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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36666-8.txt b/36666-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d40c2eb --- /dev/null +++ b/36666-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16880 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Sins of the Father, by Thomas Dixon, +Illustrated by John Cassel + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Sins of the Father + A Romance of the South + + +Author: Thomas Dixon + + + +Release Date: July 8, 2011 [eBook #36666] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SINS OF THE FATHER*** + + +E-text prepared by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images +generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 36666-h.htm or 36666-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36666/36666-h/36666-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36666/36666-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + http://www.archive.org/details/sinsoffatherroma00dixo + + + + + +THE SINS OF THE FATHER + + +[Illustration: "She blushed scarlet, took the rosebud from her bosom and +pinned it on his coat." + +[Page 246]] + + +THE SINS OF THE FATHER + +A Romance of the South + +by + +THOMAS DIXON + +Author of +The Leopard's Spots, The Clansman, +Comrades, The Root of Evil, etc. + +Illustrated by John Cassel + + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers :: :: New York + +Copyright, 1912, by +Thomas Dixon + +All rights reserved, including that of translation into +foreign languages, including the Scandinavian. + +Published March, 1913. + +Printed in the United States of America. + + + + +TO +THE MEMORY OF + +RANDOLPH SHOTWELL + +OF NORTH CAROLINA + +SOLDIER, EDITOR, CLANSMAN +PATRIOT + + + + +TO THE READER + + +_I wish it understood that I have not used in this novel the private life +of Captain Randolph Shotwell, to whom this book is dedicated. I have drawn +the character of my central figure from the authentic personal history of +Major Daniel Norton himself, a distinguished citizen of the far South, with +whom I was intimately acquainted for many years._ + + THOMAS DIXON. + + NEW YORK + MARCH 8, 1912 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BOOK I--SIN + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I. THE WOMAN IN YELLOW 3 +II. CLEO ENTERS 26 +III. A BEAST AWAKES 39 +IV. THE ARREST 46 +V. THE RESCUE 58 +VI. A TRAITOR'S RUSE 71 +VII. THE IRONY OF FATE 78 +VIII. A NEW WEAPON 85 +IX. THE WORDS THAT COST 93 +X. MAN TO MAN 98 +XI. THE UNBIDDEN GUEST 109 +XII. THE JUDGMENT BAR 116 +XIII. AN OLD STORY 130 +XIV. THE FIGHT FOR LIFE 139 +XV. CLEO'S SILENCE 142 +XVI. THE LARGER VISION 145 +XVII. THE OPAL GATES 158 +XVIII. QUESTIONS 163 +XIX. CLEO'S CRY 171 +XX. THE BLOW FALLS 174 +XXI. THE CALL OF THE BLOOD 182 + + +BOOK II--ATONEMENT + +I. THE NEW LIFE PURPOSE 195 +II. A MODERN SCALAWAG 199 +III. HIS HOUSE IN ORDER 211 +IV. THE MAN OF THE HOUR 217 +V. A WOMAN SCORNED 222 +VI. AN OLD COMEDY 235 +VII. TRAPPED 247 +VIII. BEHIND THE BARS 259 +IX. ANDY'S DILEMMA 262 +X. THE BEST LAID PLANS 278 +XI. A RECONNOITRE 284 +XII. THE FIRST WHISPER 294 +XIII. ANDY'S PROPOSAL 299 +XIV. THE FOLLY OF PITY 307 +XV. A DISCOVERY 319 +XVI. THE CHALLENGE 329 +XVII. A SKIRMISH 335 +XVIII. LOVE LAUGHS 340 +XIX. "FIGHT IT OUT!" 346 +XX. ANDY FIGHTS 355 +XXI. THE SECOND BLOW 365 +XXII. THE TEST OF LOVE 372 +XXIII. THE PARTING 388 +XXIV. FATHER AND SON 399 +XXV. THE ONE CHANCE 414 +XXVI. BETWEEN TWO FIRES 420 +XXVII. A SURPRISE 423 +XXVIII. VIA DOLOROSA 428 +XXIX. THE DREGS IN THE CUP 438 +XXX. THE MILLS OF GOD 449 +XXXI. SIN FULL GROWN 454 +XXXII. CONFESSION 456 +XXXIII. HEALING 461 + + + + +THE SINS OF THE FATHER + +_Book One--Sin_ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE WOMAN IN YELLOW + + +The young editor of _The Daily Eagle and Phoenix_ straightened his tall +figure from the pile of papers that smothered his desk, glanced at his +foreman who stood waiting, and spoke in the quiet drawl he always used when +excited: + +"Just a moment--'til I read this over----" + +The foreman nodded. + +He scanned the scrawled pencil manuscript twice and handed it up without +changing a letter: + +"Set the title in heavy black-faced caps--_black_--the blackest you've +got." + +He read the title over again musingly, his strong mouth closing with a snap +at its finish: + + THE BLACK LEAGUE AND THE KU KLUX KLAN + DOWN WITH ALL SECRET SOCIETIES + +The foreman took the manuscript with a laugh: + +"You've certainly got 'em guessing, major----" + +"Who?" + +"Everybody. We've all been thinking until these editorials began that you +were a leader of the Klan." + +A smile played about the corners of the deep-set brown eyes as he swung +carelessly back to his desk and waved the printer to his task with a +friendly sweep of his long arm: + +"Let 'em think again!" + +A shout in the Court House Square across the narrow street caused him to +lift his head with a frown: + +"Salesday--of course--the first Monday--doomsday for the conquered +South--God, the horror of it all!" + +He laid his pencil down, walked to the window and looked out on the crowd +of slouching loafers as they gathered around the auctioneer's block. The +negroes outnumbered the whites two to one. + +A greasy, loud-mouthed negro, as black as ink, was the auctioneer. + +"Well, gemmen an' feller citizens," he began pompously, "de fust piece er +property I got ter sell hain't no property 'tall--hit's dese po' folks fum +de County Po' House. Fetch 'em up agin de wall so de bidders can see +'em----" + +He paused and a black court attendant led out and placed in line against +the weatherbeaten walls fifty or sixty inmates of the County Poor +House--all of them white men and women. Most of them were over seventy +years old, and one with the quickest step and brightest eye, a little man +of eighty-four with snow-white hair and beard, was the son of a hero of the +American Revolution. The women were bareheaded and the blazing Southern sun +of August beat down piteously on their pinched faces. + +The young editor's fists slowly clinched and his breath came in a deep +quivering draught. He watched as in a trance. He had seen four years' +service in the bloodiest war in history--seen thousands swept into +eternity from a single battlefield without a tear. He had witnessed the +sufferings of the wounded and dying until it became the routine of a day's +work. Yet no event of all that fierce and terrible struggle had stirred his +soul as the scene he was now witnessing--not even the tragic end of his +father, the editor of the _Daily Eagle_--who had been burned to death in +the building when Sherman's army swept the land with fire and sword. The +younger man had never referred to this except in a brief, hopeful editorial +in the newly christened _Eagle and Phoenix_, which he literally built on +the ashes of the old paper. He had no unkind word for General Sherman or +his army. It was war, and a soldier knew what that meant. He would have +done the same thing under similar conditions. + +Now he was brushing a tear from his cheek. A reporter at work in the +adjoining room watched him curiously. He had never before thought him +capable of such an emotion. A brilliant and powerful editor, he had made +his paper the one authoritative organ of the white race. In the midst of +riot, revolution and counter revolution his voice had the clear ring of a +bugle call to battle. There was never a note of hesitation, of uncertainty +or of compromise. In the fierce white heat of an unconquered spirit, he had +fused the souls of his people as one. At this moment he was the one man +hated and feared most by the negroid government in power, the one man most +admired and trusted by the white race. + +And he was young--very young--yet he had lived a life so packed with tragic +events no one ever guessed his real age, twenty-four. People took him to be +more than thirty and the few threads of gray about his temples, added to +the impression of age and dignity. He was not handsome in the conventional +sense. His figure was too tall, his cheek bones too high, the nostrils too +large and his eyebrows too heavy. His great height, six feet three, +invariably made him appear gaunt and serious. Though he had served the +entire four years in the Confederate army, entering a private in the ranks +at eighteen, emerging a major in command of a shattered regiment at +twenty-two, his figure did not convey the impression of military training. +He walked easily, with the long, loose stride of the Southener, his +shoulders slightly stooped from the habit of incessant reading. + +He was lifting his broad shoulders now in an ominous way as he folded his +clenched fists behind his back and listened to the negro auctioneer. + +"Come now, gemmens," he went on; "what's de lowes' offer ye gwine ter start +me fer dese folks? 'Member, now, de lowes' bid gets 'em, not de highes'! +'Fore de war de black man wuz put on de block an' sole ter de _highes'_ +bidder! Times is changed----" + +"Yas, Lawd!" shouted a negro woman. + +"Times is changed, I tells ye!--now I gwine ter sell dese po' white folks +ter de lowes' bidder. Whosomever'll take de Po' House and bode 'em fer de +least money gits de whole bunch. An' you has de right ter make 'em all work +de Po' farm. Dey kin work, too, an' don' ye fergit it. Dese here ones I +fotch out here ter show ye is all soun' in wind and limb. De bedridden ones +ain't here. Dey ain't but six er dem. What's de lowes' bid now, gemmens, +yer gwine ter gimme ter bode 'em by de month? Look 'em all over, gemmens, I +warrants 'em ter be sound in wind an' limb. Sound in wind an' limb." + +The auctioneer's sonorous voice lingered on this phrase and repeated it +again and again. + +The watcher at the window turned away in disgust, walked back to his desk, +sat down, fidgeted in his seat, rose and returned to the window in time to +hear the cry: + +"An' sold to Mister Abum Russ fer fo' dollars a month!" + +Could it be possible that he heard aright? Abe Russ the keeper to the +poor!--a drunkard, wife beater, and midnight prowler. His father before +him, "Devil Tom Russ," had been a notorious character, yet he had at least +one redeeming quality that saved him from contempt--a keen sense of humor. +He had made his living on a ten-acre red hill farm and never used a horse +or an ox. He hitched himself to the plow and made Abe seize the handles. +This strange team worked the fields. No matter how hard the day's task the +elder Russ never quite lost his humorous view of life. When the boy, tired +and thirsty, would stop and go to the spring for water, a favorite trick of +his was to place a piece of paper or a chunk of wood in the furrow a few +yards ahead. When the boy returned and they approached this object, the old +man would stop, lift his head and snort, back and fill, frisk and caper, +plunge and kick, and finally break and run, tearing over the fields like a +maniac, dragging the plow after him with the breathless boy clinging to the +handles. He would then quietly unhitch himself and thrash Abe within an +inch of his life for being so careless as to allow a horse to run away with +him. + +But Abe grew up without a trace of his father's sense of humor, picked out +the strongest girl he could find for a wife and hitched her to the plow! +And he permitted no pranks to enliven the tedium of work except the +amusement he allowed himself of beating her at mealtimes after she had +cooked his food. + +He had now turned politician, joined the Loyal Black League and was the +successful bidder for Keeper of the Poor. It was incredible! + +The watcher was roused from his painful reverie by a reporter's voice: + +"I think there's a man waiting in the hall to see you, sir." + +"Who is it?" + +The reporter smiled: + +"Mr. Bob Peeler." + +"What on earth can that old scoundrel want with me? All right--show him +in." + +The editor was busy writing when Mr. Peeler entered the room furtively. He +was coarse, heavy and fifty years old. His red hair hung in tangled locks +below his ears and a bloated double chin lapped his collar. His legs were +slightly bowed from his favorite mode of travel on horseback astride a huge +stallion trapped with tin and brass bespangled saddle. His supposed +business was farming and the raising of blooded horses. As a matter of +fact, the farm was in the hands of tenants and gambling was his real work. + +Of late he had been displaying a hankering for negro politics. A few weeks +before he had created a sensation by applying to the clerk of the court for +a license to marry his mulatto housekeeper. It was common report that this +woman was the mother of a beautiful octoroon daughter with hair exactly the +color of old Peeler's. Few people had seen her. She had been away at +school since her tenth year. + +The young editor suddenly wheeled in his chair and spoke with quick +emphasis: + +"Mr. Peeler, I believe?" + +The visitor's face lighted with a maudlin attempt at politeness: + +"Yes, sir; yes, sir!--and I'm shore glad to meet you, Major Norton!" + +He came forward briskly, extending his fat mottled hand. + +Norton quietly ignored the offer by placing a chair beside his desk: + +"Have a seat, Mr. Peeler." + +The heavy figure flopped into the chair: + +"I want to ask your advice, major, about a little secret matter"--he +glanced toward the door leading into the reporters' room. + +The editor rose, closed the door and resumed his seat: + +"Well, sir; how can I serve you?" + +The visitor fumbled in his coat pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of +paper which he fingered gingerly: + +"I've been readin' your editorials agin' secret societies, major, and I +like 'em--that's why I made up my mind to put my trust in you----" + +"Why, I thought you were a member of the Loyal Black League, Mr. Peeler?" + +"No, sir--it's a mistake, sir," was the smooth lying answer. "I hain't got +nothin' to do with no secret society. I hate 'em all--just run your eye +over that, major." + +He extended the crumpled piece of paper on which was scrawled in boyish +writing: + + "We hear you want to marry a nigger. Our advice is to leave + this country for the more congenial climate of Africa. + + "By order of the Grand Cyclops, KU KLUX KLAN." + +The young editor studied the scrawl in surprise: + +"A silly prank of schoolboys!" he said at length. + +"You think that's all?" Peeler asked dubiously. + +"Certainly. The Ku Klux Klan have more important tasks on hand just now. No +man in their authority sent that to you. Their orders are sealed in red ink +with a crossbones and skull. I've seen several of them. Pay no attention to +this--it's a fake." + +"I don't think so, major--just wait a minute, I'll show you something worse +than a red-ink crossbones and skull." + +Old Peeler tipped to the door leading into the hallway, opened it, peered +out and waved his fat hand, beckoning someone to enter. + +The voice of a woman was heard outside protesting: + +"No--no--I'll stay here----" + +Peeler caught her by the arm and drew her within: + +"This is Lucy, my housekeeper, major." + +The editor looked in surprise at the slender, graceful figure of the +mulatto. He had pictured her coarse and heavy. He saw instead a face of the +clean-cut Aryan type with scarcely a trace of negroid character. Only the +thick curling hair, shining black eyes and deep yellow skin betrayed the +African mother. + +Peeler's eyes were fixed in a tense stare on a small bundle she carried. +His voice was a queer muffled tremor as he slowly said: + +"Unwrap the thing and show it to him." + +The woman looked at the editor and smiled contemptuously, showing two rows +of perfect teeth, as she slowly drew the brown wrapper from a strange +object which she placed on the desk. + +The editor picked the thing up, looked at it and laughed. + +It was a tiny pine coffin about six inches long and two inches wide. A +piece of glass was fitted into the upper half of the lid and beneath the +glass was placed a single tube rose whose peculiar penetrating odor already +filled the room. + +Peeler mopped the perspiration from his brow. + +"Now, what do you think of that?" he asked in an awed whisper. + +In spite of an effort at self-control, Norton broke into a peal of +laughter: + +"It does look serious, doesn't it?" + +"Serious ain't no word for it, sir! It not only looks like death, but I'm +damned if it don't smell like it--smell it!" + +"So it does," the editor agreed, lifting the box and breathing the perfume +of the pale little flower. + +"And that ain't all," Peeler whispered, "look inside of it." + +He opened the lid and drew out a tightly folded scrap of paper on which was +written in pencil the words: + + "You lying, hypocritical, blaspheming old scoundrel--unless + you leave the country within forty-eight hours, this coffin + will be large enough to hold all we'll leave of you. + + K. K. K." + +The editor frowned and then smiled. + +"All a joke, Peeler," he said reassuringly. + +But Peeler was not convinced. He leaned close and his whiskey-laden breath +seemed to fill the room as his fat finger rested on the word "blaspheming:" + +"I don't like that word, major; it sounds like a preacher had something to +do with the writin' of it. You know I've been a tough customer in my day +and I used to cuss the preachers in this county somethin' frightful. Now, +ye see, if they should be in this Ku Klux Klan--I ain't er skeered er their +hell hereafter, but they sho' might give me a taste in this world of what +they think's comin' to me in the next. I tell you that thing makes the cold +chills run down my back. Now, major, I reckon you're about the +level-headest and the most influential man in the county--the question is, +what shall I do to be saved?" + +Again Norton laughed: + +"Nothing. It's a joke, I tell you----" + +"But the Ku Klux Klan ain't no joke!" persisted Peeler. "More than a +thousand of 'em--some say five thousand--paraded the county two weeks ago. +A hundred of 'em passed my house. I saw their white shrouds glisten in the +moonlight. I said my prayers that night! I says to myself, if it don't do +no good, at least it can't do no harm. I tell you, the Klan's no joke. If +you think so, take a walk through that crowd in the Square to-day and see +how quiet they are. Last court day every nigger that could holler was +makin' a speech yellin' that old Thad Stevens was goin' to hang Andy +Johnson, the President, from the White House porch, take every foot of land +from the rebels and give it to the Loyal Black League. Now, by gum, there's +a strange peace in Israel! I felt it this mornin' as I walked through them +crowds--and comin' back to this coffin, major, the question is--what shall +I do to be saved?" + +"Go home and forget about it," was the smiling answer. "The Klan didn't +send that thing to you or write that message." + +"You think not?" + +"I know they didn't. It's a forgery. A trick of some devilish boys." + +Peeler scratched his red head: + +"I'm glad you think so, major. I'm a thousand times obliged to you, sir. +I'll sleep better to-night after this talk." + +"Would you mind leaving this little gift with me, Peeler?" Norton asked, +examining the neat workmanship of the coffin. + +"Certainly--certainly, major, keep it. Keep it and more than welcome! It's +a gift I don't crave, sir. I'll feel better to know you've got it." + +The yellow woman waited beside the door until Peeler had passed out, bowed +her thanks, turned and followed her master at a respectful distance. + +The editor watched them cross the street with a look of loathing, muttering +slowly beneath his breath: + +"Oh, my country, what a problem--what a problem!" + +He turned again to his desk and forgot his burden in the joy of work. He +loved this work. It called for the best that's in the strongest man. It was +a man's work for men. When he struck a blow he saw the dent of his hammer +on the iron, and heard it ring to the limits of the state. + +Dimly aware that some one had entered his room unannounced, he looked up, +sprang to his feet and extended his hand in hearty greeting to a stalwart +farmer who stood smiling into his face: + +"Hello, MacArthur!" + +"Hello, my captain! You know you weren't a major long enough for me to get +used to it--and it sounds too old for you anyhow----" + +"And how's the best sergeant that ever walloped a recruit?" + +"Bully," was the hearty answer. + +The young editor drew his old comrade in arms down into his chair and sat +on the table facing him: + +"And how's the wife and kids, Mac?" + +"Bully," he repeated evenly and then looked up with a puzzled expression. + +"Look here, Bud," he began quietly, "you've got me up a tree. These +editorials in _The Eagle and Phoenix_ cussin' the Klan----" + +"You don't like them?" + +"Not a little wee bit!" + +The editor smiled: + +"You've got Scotch blood in you, Mac--that's what's the matter with +you----" + +"Same to you, sir." + +"But my great-great-grandmother was a Huguenot and the French, you know, +had a saving sense of humor. The Scotch are thick, Mac!" + +"Well, I'm too thick to know what you mean by lambastin' our only +salvation. The Ku Klux Klan have had just one parade--and there hasn't been +a barn burnt in this county or a white woman scared since, and every nigger +I've met to-day has taken off his hat----" + +"Are you a member of the Klan, Mac?" The question was asked with his face +turned away. + +The farmer hesitated, looked up at the ceiling and quietly answered: + +"None of your business--and that's neither here nor there--you know that +every nigger is organized in that secret Black League, grinning and +whispering its signs and passwords--you know that they've already begun to +grip the throats of our women. The Klan's the only way to save this country +from hell--what do you mean by jumpin' on it?" + +"The Black League's a bad thing, Mac, and the Klan's a bad thing----" + +"All right--still you've got to fight the devil with fire----" + +"You don't say so?" the editor said, while a queer smile played around his +serious mouth. + +"Yes, by golly, I do say so," the farmer went on with increasing warmth, +"and what I can't understand is how you're against 'em. You're a leader. +You're a soldier--the bravest that ever led his men into the jaws of +death--I know, for I've been with you--and I just come down here to-day to +ask you the plain question, what do you mean?" + +"The Klan _is_ a band of lawless night raiders, isn't it?" + +"Oh, you make me tired! What are we to do without 'em, that's the +question?" + +"Scotch! That's the trouble with you"--the young editor answered +carelessly. "Have you a pin?" + +The rugged figure suddenly straightened as though a bolt of lightning had +shot down his spine. + +"What's--what's that?" he gasped. + +"I merely asked, have you a pin?" was the even answer, as Norton touched +the right lapel of his coat with his right hand. + +The farmer hesitated a moment, and then slowly ran three trembling fingers +of his left hand over the left lapel of his coat, replying: + +"I'm afraid not." + +He looked at Norton a moment and turned pale. He had been given and had +returned the signs of the Klan. It might have been an accident. The rugged +face was a study of eager intensity as he put his friend to the test that +would tell. He slowly thrust the fingers of his right hand into the right +pocket of his trousers, the thumb protruding. + +Norton quietly answered in the same way with his left hand. + +The farmer looked into the smiling brown eyes of his commander for a moment +and his own filled with tears. He sprang forward and grasped the +outstretched hand: + +"Dan Norton! I said last night to my God that you couldn't be against us! +And so I came to ask--oh, why--why've you been foolin' with me?" + +The editor tenderly slipped his arm around his old comrade and whispered: + +"The cunning of the fox and the courage of the lion now, Mac! It was easy +for our boys to die in battle while guns were thundering, fifes screaming, +drums beating and the banners waving. You and I have something harder to +do--we've got to live--our watchword, '_The cunning of the fox and the +courage of the lion!_' I've some dangerous work to do pretty soon. The +little Scalawag Governor is getting ready for us----" + +"I want that job!" MacArthur cried eagerly. + +"I'll let you know when the time comes." + +The farmer smiled: + +"I _am_ a Scotchman--ain't I?" + +"And a good one, too!" + +With his hand on the door, the rugged face aflame with patriotic fire, he +slowly repeated: + +"The cunning of the fox and the courage of the lion!--And by the living +God, we'll win this time, boy!" + +Norton heard him laugh aloud as he hurried down the stairs. Gazing again +from his window at the black clouds of negroes floating across the Square, +he slowly muttered: + +"Yes, we'll win this time!--but twenty years from now--I wonder!" + +He took up the little black coffin and smiled at the perfection of its +workmanship: + +"I think I know the young gentleman who made that and he may give me +trouble." + +He thrust the thing into a drawer, seized his hat, strolled down a side +street and slowly passed the cabinet shop of the workman whom he suspected. +It was closed. Evidently the master had business outside. It was barely +possible, of course, that he had gone to the galleries of the Capitol to +hear the long-expected message of the Governor against the Klan. The +galleries had been packed for the past two sessions in anticipation of this +threatened message. The Capital city was only a town of five thousand white +inhabitants and four thousand blacks. Rumors of impending political +movements flew from house to house with the swiftness of village gossip. + +He walked to the Capitol building by a quiet street. As he passed through +the echoing corridor the rotund figure of Schlitz, the Carpetbagger, +leader of the House of Representatives, emerged from the Governor's office. + +The red face flushed a purple hue as his eye rested on his arch-enemy of +the _Eagle and Phoenix_. He tried to smile and nodded to Norton. His smile +was answered by a cold stare and a quickened step. + +Schlitz had been a teamster's scullion in the Union Army. He was not even +an army cook, but a servant of servants. He was now the master of the +Legislature of a great Southern state and controlled its black, ignorant +members with a snap of his bloated fingers. There was but one man Norton +loathed with greater intensity and that was the shrewd little Scalawag +Governor, the native traitor who had betrayed his people to win office. A +conference of these two cronies was always an ill omen for the state. + +He hurried up the winding stairs, pushed his way into a corner of the +crowded galleries from which he could see every face and searched in vain +for his young workman. + +He stood for a moment, looked down on the floor of the House and watched a +Black Parliament at work making laws to govern the children of the men who +had created the Republic--watched them through fetid smoke, the vapors of +stale whiskey and the deafening roar of half-drunken brutes as they voted +millions in taxes, their leaders had already stolen. + +The red blood rushed to his cheeks and the big veins on his slender swarthy +neck stood out for a moment like drawn cords. + +He hurried down to the Court House Square, walked with long, leisurely +stride through the thinning crowds, and paused before a vacant lot on the +opposite side of the street. A dozen or more horses were still tied to the +racks provided for the accommodation of countrymen. + +"Funny," he muttered, "farmers start home before sundown, and it's dusk--I +wonder if it's possible!" + +He crossed the street, strolled carelessly among the horses and noted that +their saddles had not been removed and the still more significant fact that +their saddle blankets were unusually thick. Only an eye trained to observe +this fact would have noticed it. He lifted the edge of one of the blankets +and saw the white and scarlet edges of a Klan costume. It was true. The +young dare-devil who had sent that message to old Peeler had planned an +unauthorized raid. Only a crowd of youngsters bent on a night's fun, he +knew; and yet the act at this moment meant certain anarchy unless he nipped +it in the bud. The Klan was a dangerous institution. Its only salvation lay +in the absolute obedience of its members to the orders of an intelligent +and patriotic chief. Unless the word of that chief remained the sole law of +its life, a reign of terror by irresponsible fools would follow at once. As +commander of the Klan in his county he must subdue this lawless element. It +must be done with an iron hand and done immediately or it would be too +late. His decision to act was instantaneous. + +He sent a message to his wife that he couldn't get home for supper, locked +his door and in three hours finished his day's work. There was ample time +to head these boys off before they reached old Peeler's house. They +couldn't start before eleven, yet he would take no chances. He determined +to arrive an hour ahead of them. + +The night was gloriously beautiful--a clear star-gemmed sky in the full +tide of a Southern summer, the first week in August. He paused inside the +gate of his home and drank for a moment the perfume of the roses on the +lawn. The light from the window of his wife's room poured a mellow flood of +welcome through the shadows beside the white, fluted columns. This home of +his father's was all the wreck of war had left him and his heart gave a +throb of joy to-night that it was his. + +Behind the room where the delicate wife lay, a petted invalid, was the +nursery. His baby boy was there, nestling in the arms of the black mammy +who had nursed him twenty odd years ago. He could hear the soft crooning of +her dear old voice singing the child to sleep. The heart of the young +father swelled with pride. He loved his frail little wife with a deep, +tender passion, but this big rosy-cheeked, laughing boy, which she had +given him six months ago, he fairly worshipped. + +He stopped again under the nursery window and listened to the music of the +cradle. The old lullaby had waked a mocking bird in a magnolia beside the +porch and he was answering her plaintive wail with a thrilling love song. +By the strange law of contrast, his memory flashed over the fields of death +he had trodden in the long war. + +"What does it matter after all, these wars and revolutions, if God only +brings with each new generation a nobler breed of men!" + +He tipped softly past the window lest his footfall disturb the loved ones +above, hurried to the stable, saddled his horse and slowly rode through the +quiet streets of the town. On clearing the last clump of negro cabins on +the outskirts his pace quickened to a gallop. + +He stopped in the edge of the woods at the gate which opened from Peeler's +farm on the main road. The boys would have to enter here. He would stop +them at this spot. + +The solemn beauty of the night stirred his soul to visions of the future, +and the coming battle which his Klan must fight for the mastery of the +state. The chirp of crickets, the song of katydids and the flash of +fireflies became the martial music and the flaming torches of triumphant +hosts he saw marching to certain victory. But the Klan he was leading was a +wild horse that must be broken to the bit or both horse and rider would +plunge to ruin. + +There would be at least twenty or thirty of these young marauders to-night. +If they should unite in defying his authority it would be a serious and +dangerous situation. Somebody might be killed. And yet he waited without a +fear of the outcome. He had faced odds before. He loved a battle when the +enemy outnumbered him two to one. It stirred his blood. He had ridden with +Forrest one night at the head of four hundred daring, ragged veterans, +surrounded a crack Union regiment at two o'clock in the morning, and forced +their commander to surrender 1800 men before he discovered the real +strength of the attacking force. It stirred his blood to-night to know that +General Forrest was the Commander-in-Chief of his own daring Clansmen. + +Half an hour passed without a sign of the youngsters. He grew uneasy. Could +they have dared to ride so early that they had reached the house before his +arrival? He must know at once. He opened the gate and galloped down the +narrow track at a furious pace. + +A hundred yards from Peeler's front gate he drew rein and listened. A horse +neighed in the woods, and the piercing shriek of a woman left nothing to +doubt. They were already in the midst of their dangerous comedy. + +He pressed cautiously toward the gate, riding in the shadows of the +overhanging trees. They were dragging old Peeler across the yard toward the +roadway, followed by the pleading voice of a woman begging for his +worthless life. + +Realizing that the raid was now an accomplished fact, Norton waited to see +what the young fools were going to do. He was not long in doubt. They +dragged their panting, perspiring victim into the edge of the woods, tied +him to a sapling and bared his back. The leader stepped forward holding a +lighted torch whose flickering flames made an unearthly picture of the +distorted features and bulging eyes. + +"Mr. Peeler," began the solemn muffled voice behind the cloth mask, "for +your many sins and blasphemies against God and man the preachers of this +county have assembled to-night to call you to repentance----" + +The terror-stricken eyes bulged further and the fat neck twisted in an +effort to see how many ghastly figures surrounded him, as he gasped: + +"Oh, Lord--oh, hell--are you all preachers?" + +"All!" was the solemn echo from each sepulchral figure. + +"Then I'm a goner--that coffin's too big----" + +"Yea, verily, there'll be nothing left when we get through--Selah!" +solemnly cried the leader. + +"But, say, look here, brethren," Peeler pleaded between shattering teeth, +"can't we compromise this thing? I'll repent and join the church. And +how'll a contribution of fifty dollars each strike you? Now what do you say +to that?" + +The coward's voice had melted into a pious whine. + +The leader selected a switch from the bundle extended by a shrouded figure +and without a word began to lay on. Peeler's screams could be heard a mile. + +Norton allowed them to give him a dozen lashes and spurred his horse into +the crowd. There was a wild scramble to cover and most of the boys leaped +to their saddles. Three white figures resolutely stood their ground. + +"What's the meaning of this, sir?" Norton sternly demanded of the man who +still held the switch. + +"Just a little fun, major," was the sheepish answer. + +"A dangerous piece of business." + +"For God's sake, save me, Major Norton!" Peeler cried, suddenly waking from +the spell of fear. "They've got me, sir--and it's just like I told you, +they're all preachers--I'm a goner!" + +Norton sprang from his horse and faced the three white figures. + +"Who's in command of this crowd?" + +"I am, sir!" came the quick answer from a stalwart masquerader who suddenly +stepped from the shadows. + +Norton recognized the young cabinet-maker's voice, and spoke in low tense +tones: + +"By whose authority are you using these disguises, to-night?" + +"It's none of your business!" + +The tall sinewy figure suddenly stiffened, stepped close and peered into +the eyes of the speaker's mask: + +"Does my word go here to-night or must I call out a division of the Klan?" + +A moment's hesitation and the eyes behind the mask fell: + +"All right, sir--nothing but a boyish frolic," muttered the leader +apologetically. + +"Let this be the end of such nonsense," Norton said with a quiet drawl. "If +I catch you fellows on a raid like this again I'll hang your leader to the +first limb I find--good night." + +A whistle blew and the beat of horses' hoofs along the narrow road told +their hurried retreat. + +Norton loosed the cords and led old Peeler to his house. As the fat, +wobbling legs mounted the steps the younger man paused at a sound from +behind and before he could turn a girl sprang from the shadows into his +arms, and slipped to her knees, sobbing hysterically: + +"Save me!--they're going to beat me--they'll beat me to death--don't let +them--please--please don't let them!" + +By the light from the window he saw that her hair was a deep rich red with +the slightest tendency to curl and her wide dilated eyes a soft greenish +grey. + +He was too astonished to speak for a moment and Peeler hastened to say: + +"That's our little gal, Cleo--that is--I--mean--of--course--it's Lucy's +gal! She's just home from school and she's scared to death and I don't +blame her!" + +The girl clung to her rescuer with desperate grip, pressing her trembling +form close with each convulsive sob. + +The man drew the soft arms down, held them a moment and looked into the +dumb frightened face. He was surprised at her unusual beauty. Her skin was +a delicate creamy yellow, almost white, and her cheeks were tinged with the +brownish red of ripe apple. As he looked in to her eyes he fancied that he +saw a young leopardess from an African jungle looking at him through the +lithe, graceful form of a Southern woman. + +And then something happened in the shadows that stood out forever in his +memory of that day as the turning point of his life. + +Laughing at her fears, he suddenly lifted his hand and gently stroked the +tangled red hair, smoothing it back from her forehead with a movement +instinctive, and irresistible as he would have smoothed the fur of a yellow +Persian kitten. + +Surprised at his act, he turned without a word and left the place. + +And all the way home, through the solemn starlit night, he brooded over the +strange meeting with this extraordinary girl. He forgot his fight. One +thing only stood out with increasing vividness--the curious and +irresistible impulse that caused him to stroke her hair. Personally he had +always loathed the Southern white man who stooped and crawled through the +shadows to meet such women. She was a negress and he knew it, and yet the +act was instinctive and irresistible. + +Why? + +He asked himself the question a hundred times, and the longer he faced it +the angrier he became at his stupid folly. For hours he lay awake, seeing +in the darkness only the face of this girl. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CLEO ENTERS + + +The conference of the carpetbagger with the little Governor proved more +ominous than even Norton had feared. The blow struck was so daring, so +swift and unexpected it stunned for a moment the entire white race. + +When the editor reached his office on the second morning after the raid, +his desk was piled with telegrams from every quarter of the state. The +Governor had issued a proclamation disarming every white military company +and by wire had demanded the immediate surrender of their rifles to the +negro Adjutant-General. The same proclamation had created an equal number +of negro companies who were to receive these guns and equipments. + +The negroid state Government would thus command an armed black guard of +fifty thousand men and leave the white race without protection. + +Evidently His Excellency was a man of ambitions. It was rumored that he +aspired to the Vice-Presidency and meant to win the honor by a campaign of +such brilliance that the solid negro-ruled South would back him in the +National Convention. + +Beyond a doubt, this act was the first step in a daring attempt inspired by +the radical fanatics in Congress to destroy the structure of white +civilization in the South. + +And the Governor's resources were apparently boundless. President Johnson, +though a native Southerner, was a puppet now in the hands of his powerful +enemies who dominated Congress. These men boldly proclaimed their purpose +to make the South negro territory by confiscating the property of the +whites and giving it to the negroes. Their bill to do this, House Bill +Number Twenty-nine, introduced by the government leader, Thaddeus Stevens, +was already in the calendar and Mr. Stevens was pressing for its passage +with all the skill of a trained politician inspired by the fiercest hate. +The army had been sent back into the prostrate South to enforce the edicts +of Congress and the negro state government could command all the Federal +troops needed for any scheme concocted. + +But the little Governor had a plan up his sleeve by which he proposed to +startle even the Black Radical Administration at Washington. He was going +to stamp out "Rebellion" without the aid of Federal troops, reserving his +right to call them finally as a last resort. That they were ready at his +nod gave him the moral support of their actual presence. + +That any man born of a Southern mother and reared in the South under the +conditions of refinement and culture, of the high ideals and the courage of +the old régime, could fall so low as to use this proclamation, struck +Norton at first as impossible. He refused to believe it. There must be some +misunderstanding. He sent a messenger to the Capitol for a copy of the +document before he was fully convinced. + +And then he laughed in sheer desperation at the farce-tragedy to which the +life of a brave people had been reduced. It was his business as an editor +to record the daily history of the times. For a moment in imagination he +stood outside his office and looked at his work. + +"Future generations simply can't be made to believe it!" he exclaimed. +"It's too grotesque to be credible even to-day." + +It had never occurred to him that the war was unreasonable. Its passions, +its crushing cost, its bloodstained fields, its frightful cruelties were of +the great movements of the race from a lower to a higher order of life. +Progress could only come through struggle. War was the struggle which had +to be when two great moral forces clashed. One must die, the other live. A +great issue had to be settled in the Civil War, an issue raised by the +creation of the Constitution itself, an issue its creators had not dared to +face. And each generation of compromisers and interpreters had put it off +and put it off until at last the storm of thundering guns broke from a +hundred hills at once. + +It had never been decided by the builders of the Republic whether it should +be a mighty unified nation or a loose aggregation of smaller sovereignties. +Slavery made it necessary to decide this fundamental question on which the +progress of America and the future leadership of the world hung. + +He could see all this clearly now. He had felt it dimly true throughout +every bloody scene of the war itself. And so he had closed the eyes of the +lonely dying boy with a reverent smile. It was for his country. He had died +for what he believed to be right and it was good. He had stood bareheaded +in solemn court martials and sentenced deserters to death, led them out in +the gray morning to be shot and ordered them dumped into shallow trenches +without a doubt or a moment's hesitation. He had walked over battlefields +at night and heard the groans of the wounded, the sighs of the dying, the +curses of the living, beneath the silent stars and felt that in the end it +must be good. It was war, and war, however cruel, was inevitable--the great +High Court of Life and Death for the nations of earth. + +But this base betrayal which had followed the honorable surrender of a +brave, heroic army--this wanton humiliation of a ruined people by pot-house +politicians--this war on the dead, the wounded, the dying, and their +defenseless women--this enthronement of Savagery, Superstition, Cowardice +and Brutality in high places where Courage and Honor and Chivalry had +ruled--these vandals and camp followers and vultures provoking violence and +exciting crime, set to rule a brave people who had risked all for a +principle and lost--this was a nightmare; it was the reduction of human +society to an absurdity! + +For a moment he saw the world red. Anger, fierce and cruel, possessed him. +The desire to kill gripped and strangled until he could scarcely breathe. + +Nor did it occur to this man for a moment that he could separate his +individual life from the life of his people. His paper was gaining in +circulation daily. It was paying a good dividend now and would give his +loved ones the luxuries he had dreamed for them. The greater the turmoil +the greater his profits would be. And yet this idea never once flashed +through his mind. His people were of his heart's blood. He had no life +apart from them. Their joys were his, their sorrows his, their shame his. +This proclamation of a traitor to his race struck him in the face as a +direct personal insult. The hot shame of it found his soul. + +When the first shock of surprise and indignation had spent itself, he +hurried to answer his telegrams. His hand wrote now with the eager, sure +touch of a master who knew his business. To every one he sent in substance +the same message: + +"Submit and await orders." + +As he sat writing the fierce denunciation of this act of the Chief +Executive of the state, he forgot his bitterness in the thrill of life that +meant each day a new adventure. He was living in an age whose simple record +must remain more incredible than the tales of the Arabian Nights. And the +spell of its stirring call was now upon him. + +The drama had its comedy moments, too. He could but laugh at the sorry +figures the little puppets cut who were strutting for a day in pomp and +splendor. Their end was as sure as the sweep of eternal law. Water could +not be made to run up hill by the proclamation of a Governor. + +He had made up his mind within an hour to give the Scalawag a return blow +that would be more swift and surprising than his own. On the little man's +reception of that counter stroke would hang the destiny of his +administration and the history of the state for the next generation. + +On the day the white military companies surrendered their arms to their +negro successors something happened that was not on the programme of the +Governor. + +The Ku Klux Klan held its second grand parade. It was not merely a dress +affair. A swift and silent army of drilled, desperate men, armed and +disguised, moved with the precision of clockwork at the command of one +mind. At a given hour the armory of every negro military company in the +state was broken open and its guns recovered by the white and scarlet +cavalry of the "Invisible Empire." + +Within the next hour every individual negro in the state known to be in +possession of a gun or pistol was disarmed. Resistance was futile. The +attack was so sudden and so unexpected, the attacking party so overwhelming +at the moment, each black man surrendered without a blow and a successful +revolution was accomplished in a night without a shot or the loss of a +life. + +Next morning the Governor paced the floor of his office in the Capitol with +the rage of a maddened beast, and Schlitz, the Carpetbagger, was summoned +for a second council of war. It proved to be a very important meeting in +the history of His Excellency. + +The editor sat at his desk that day smiling in quiet triumph as he read the +facetious reports wired by his faithful lieutenants from every district of +the Klan. An endless stream of callers had poured through his modest little +room and prevented any attempt at writing. He had turned the columns over +to his assistants and the sun was just sinking in a smother of purple glory +when he turned from his window and began to write his leader for the day. + +It was an easy task. A note of defiant power ran through a sarcastic +warning to the Governor that found the quick. The editorial flashed with +wit and stung with bitter epigram. And there was in his consciousness of +power a touch of cruelty that should have warned the Scalawag against his +next act of supreme folly. + +But His Excellency had bad advisers, and the wheels of Fate moved swiftly +toward the appointed end. + +Norton wrote this editorial with a joy that gave its crisp sentences the +ring of inspired leadership. He knew that every paper in the state read by +white men and women would copy it and he already felt in his heart the +reflex thrill of its call to his people. + +He had just finished his revision of the last paragraph when a deep, +laughing voice beside his chair slowly said: + +"May I come in?" + +He looked up with a start to find the tawny figure of the girl whose red +hair he had stroked that night bowing and smiling. Her white, perfect teeth +gleamed in the gathering twilight and her smile displayed two pretty +dimples in the brownish red cheeks. + +"I say, may I come in?" she repeated with a laugh. + +"It strikes me you are pretty well in," Norton said good-humoredly. + +"Yes, I didn't have any cards. So I came right up. It's getting dark and +nobody saw me----" + +The editor frowned and moved uneasily + +"You're alone, aren't you?" she asked. + +"The others have all gone to supper, I believe." + +"Yes, I waited 'til they left. I watched from the Square 'til I saw them +go." + +"Why?" he asked sharply. + +"I don't know. I reckon I was afraid of 'em." + +"And you're not afraid of me?" he laughed. + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I know you." + +Norton smiled: + +"You wish to see me?" + +"Yes." + +"Is there anything wrong at Mr. Peeler's?" + +"No, I just came to thank you for what you did and see if you wouldn't let +me work for you?" + +"Work? Where--here?" + +"Yes. I can keep the place clean. My mother said it was awful. And, honest, +it's worse than I expected. It doesn't look like it's been cleaned in a +year." + +"I don't believe it has," the editor admitted. + +"Let me keep it decent for you." + +"Thanks, no. It seems more home-like this way." + +"Must it be so dirty?" she asked, looking about the room and picking up the +scattered papers from the floor. + +Norton, watching her with indulgent amusement at her impudence, saw that +she moved her young form with a rhythmic grace that was perfect. The simple +calico dress, with a dainty little check, fitted her perfectly. It was cut +low and square at the neck and showed the fine lines of a beautiful throat. +Her arms were round and finely shaped and bare to an inch above the elbows. +The body above the waistline was slender, and the sinuous free movement of +her figure showed that she wore no corset. Her step was as light as a cat's +and her voice full of good humor and the bubbling spirits of a perfectly +healthy female animal. + +His first impulse was to send her about her business with a word of +dismissal. But when she laughed it was with such pleasant assurance and +such faith in his friendliness it was impossible to be rude. + +She picked up the last crumpled paper and laid it on a table beside the +wall, turned and said softly: + +"Well, if you don't want me to clean up for you, anyhow, I brought you some +flowers for your room--they're outside." + +She darted through the door and returned in a moment with an armful of +roses. + +"My mother let me cut them from our yard, and she told me to thank you for +coming that night. They'd have killed us if you hadn't come." + +"Nonsense, they wouldn't have touched either you or your mother!" + +"Yes, they would, too. Goodness--haven't you anything to put the flowers +in?" + +She tipped softly about the room, holding the roses up and arranging them +gracefully. + +Norton watched her with a lazy amused interest. He couldn't shake off the +impression that she was a sleek young animal, playful and irresponsible, +that had strayed from home and wandered into his office. And he loved +animals. He never passed a stray dog or a cat without a friendly word of +greeting. He had often laid on his lounge at home, when tired, and watched +a kitten play an hour with unflagging interest. Every movement of this +girl's lithe young body suggested such a scene--especially the velvet tread +of her light foot, and the delicate motions of her figure followed suddenly +by a sinuous quick turn and a childish laugh or cry. The faint shadows of +negro blood in her creamy skin and the purring gentleness of her voice +seemed part of the gathering twilight. Her eyes were apparently twice the +size as when first he saw them, and the pupils, dilated in the dusk, +flashed with unusual brilliance. + +She had wandered into the empty reporters' room without permission looking +for a vase, came back and stood in the doorway laughing: + +"This is the dirtiest place I ever got into in my life. Gracious! Isn't +there a thing to put the flowers in?" + +The editor, roused from his reveries, smiled and answered: + +"Put them in the pitcher." + +"Why, yes, of course, the pitcher!" she cried, rushing to the little +washstand. + +"Why, there isn't a drop of water in it--I'll go to the well and get some." + +She seized the pitcher, laid the flowers down in the bowl, darted out the +door and flew across the street to the well in the Court House Square. + +The young editor walked carelessly to the window and watched her. She +simply couldn't get into an ungraceful attitude. Every movement was +instinct with vitality. She was alive to her finger tips. Her body swayed +in perfect rhythmic unison with her round, bare arms as she turned the +old-fashioned rope windlass, drew the bucket to the top and dropped it +easily on the wet wooden lids that flapped back in place. + +She was singing now a crooning, half-savage melody her mother had taught +her. The low vibrant notes of her voice, deep and tender and quivering with +a strange intensity, floated across the street through the gathering +shadows. The voice had none of the light girlish quality of her age of +eighteen, but rather the full passionate power of a woman of twenty-five. +The distance, the deepening shadows and the quiet of the town's lazy life, +added to the dreamy effectiveness of the song. + +"Beautiful!" the man exclaimed. "The negro race will give the world a great +singer some day----" + +And then for the first time in his life the paradox of his personal +attitude toward this girl and his attitude in politics toward the black +race struck him as curious. He had just finished an editorial in which he +had met the aggressions of the negro and his allies with the fury, the +scorn, the defiance, the unyielding ferocity with which the Anglo-Saxon +conqueror has always treated his inferiors. And yet he was listening to the +soft tones of this girl's voice with a smile as he watched with +good-natured indulgence the light gleam mischievously from her impudent big +eyes while she moved about his room. + +Yet this was not to be wondered at. The history of the South and the +history of slavery made such a paradox inevitable. The long association +with the individual negro in the intimacy of home life had broken down the +barriers of personal race repugnance. He had grown up with negro boys and +girls as playmates. He had romped and wrestled with them. Every servant in +every home he had ever known had been a negro. The first human face he +remembered bending over his cradle was a negro woman's. He had fallen +asleep in her arms times without number. He had found refuge there against +his mother's stern commands and sobbed out on her breast the story of his +fancied wrongs and always found consolation. "Mammy's darlin'" was always +right--the world cruel and wrong! He had loved this old nurse since he +could remember. She was now nursing his own and he would defend her with +his life without a moment's hesitation. + +And so it came about inevitably that while he had swung his white and +scarlet legions of disguised Clansmen in solid line against the Governor +and smashed his negro army without the loss of a single life, he was at the +same moment proving himself defenseless against the silent and deadly +purpose that had already shaped itself in the soul of this sleek, sensuous +young animal. He was actually smiling with admiration at the beautiful +picture he saw as she lifted the white pitcher, placed it on the crown of +red hair, and crossed the street. + +She was still softly singing as she entered the room and arranged the +flowers in pretty confusion. + +Norton had lighted his lamp and seated himself at his desk again. She came +close and looked over his shoulder at the piles of papers. + +"How on earth can you work in such a mess?" she asked with a laugh. + +"Used to it," he answered without looking up from the final reading of his +editorial. + +"What's that you've written?" + +The impudent greenish gray eyes bent closer. + +"Oh, a little talk to the Governor----" + +"I bet it's a hot one. Peeler says you don't like the Governor--read it to +me!" + +The editor looked up at the mischievous young face and laughed aloud: + +"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand it." + +The girl joined in the laugh and the dimples in the reddish brown cheeks +looked prettier than ever. + +"Maybe I wouldn't," she agreed. + +He resumed his reading and she leaned over his chair until he felt the soft +touch of her shoulder against his. She was staring at his paste-pot, +extended her tapering, creamy finger and touched the paste. + +"What in the world's that?" she cried, giggling again. + +"Paste." + +Another peal of silly laughter echoed through the room. + +"Lord, I thought it was mush and milk--I thought it was your supper!--don't +you eat no supper?" + +"Sometimes." + +The editor looked up with a slight frown and said: + +"Run along now, child, I've got to work. And tell your mother I'm obliged +for the flowers." + +"I'm not going back home----" + +"Why not?" + +"I'm scared out there. I've come in town to live with my aunt." + +"Well, tell her when you see her." + +"Please let me clean this place up for you?" she pleaded. + +"Not to-night." + +"To-morrow morning, then? I'll come early and every morning--please--let +me--it's all I can do to thank you. I'll do it a month just to show you how +pretty I can keep it and then you can pay me if you want me. It's a +bargain, isn't it?" + +The editor smiled, hesitated, and said: + +"All right--every morning at seven." + +"Thank you, major--good night!" + +She paused at the door and her white teeth gleamed in the shadows. She +turned and tripped down the stairs, humming again the strangely appealing +song she had sung at the well. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A BEAST AWAKES + + +Within a week Norton bitterly regretted the arrangement he had made with +Cleo. Not because she had failed to do her work properly, but precisely +because she was doing it so well. She had apparently made it the sole +object of her daily thought and the only task to which she devoted her +time. + +He couldn't accustom his mind to the extraordinary neatness with which she +kept the office. The clean floor, the careful arrangement of the chairs, +the neat piles of exchanges laid on a table she had placed beside his desk, +and the vase of fresh flowers he found each morning, were constant +reminders of her personality which piqued his curiosity and disturbed his +poise. + +He had told her to come at seven every morning. It was his habit to reach +the office and begin reading the exchanges by eight-thirty and he had not +expected to encounter her there. She had always managed, however, to linger +over her morning tasks until his arrival, and never failed to greet him +pleasantly and ask if there were anything else she could do. She also +insisted on coming at noon to fill his pitcher and again just before supper +to change the water in the vase of flowers. + +At this last call she always tried to engage him in a few words of small +talk. At first this program made no impression on his busy brain except +that she was trying to prove her value as a servant. Gradually, however, +he began to notice that her dresses were cut with remarkable neatness for a +girl of her position and that she showed a rare talent in selecting +materials becoming to her creamy yellow skin and curling red hair. + +He observed, too, that she had acquired the habit of hanging about his desk +when finishing her tasks and had a queer way of looking at him and +laughing. + +She began to make him decidedly uncomfortable and he treated her with +indifference. No matter how sullen the scowl with which he greeted her, she +was always smiling and humming snatches of strange songs. He sought for an +excuse to discharge her and could find none. She had the instincts of a +perfect servant--intelligent, careful and loyal. She never blundered over +the papers on his desk. She seemed to know instinctively what was worthless +and what was valuable, and never made a mistake in rearranging the chaotic +piles of stuff he left in his wake. + +He thought once for just a moment of the possibility of her loyalty to the +negro race. She might in that case prove a valuable spy to the Governor and +his allies. He dismissed the idea as preposterous. She never associated +with negroes if she could help it and apparently was as innocent as a babe +of the nature of the terrific struggle in which he was engaged with the +negroid government of the state. + +And yet she disturbed him deeply and continuously, as deeply sometimes when +absent as when present. + +Why? + +He asked himself the question again and again. Why should he dislike her? +She did her work promptly and efficiently, and for the first time within +his memory the building was really fit for human habitation. + +At last he guessed the truth and it precipitated the first battle of his +life with the beast that slumbered within. Feeling her physical nearness +more acutely than usual at dusk and noting that she had paused in her task +near his desk, he slowly lifted his eyes from the paper he was reading and, +before she realized it, caught the look on her face when off guard. The +girl was in love with him. It was as clear as day now that he had the key +to her actions the past week. For this reason she had come and for this +reason she was working with such patience and skill. + +His first impulse was one of rage. He had little of the vanity of the male +animal that struts before the female. His pet aversion was the man of his +class who lowered himself to vulgar association with such girls. The fact +that, at this time in the history of the South, such intrigues were common +made his determination all the more bitter as a leader of his race to stand +for its purity. + +He suddenly swung in his chair, determined to dismiss her at once with as +few words as possible. + +She leaped gracefully back with a girlish laugh, so soft, low and full of +innocent surprise, the harsh words died on his lips. + +"Lordy, major," she cried, "how you scared me! I thought you had a fit. Did +a pin stick you--or maybe a flea bit you?" + +She leaned against the mantel laughing, her white teeth gleaming. + +He hesitated a moment, his eyes lingered on the graceful pose of her young +figure, his ear caught the soft note of friendly tenderness in her voice +and he was silent. + +"What's the matter?" she asked, stepping closer. + +"Nothing." + +"Well, you made an awful fuss about it!" + +"Just thought of something--suddenly----" + +"I thought you were going to bite my head off and then that something bit +you!" + +Again she laughed and walked slowly to the door, her greenish eyes watching +him with studied carelessness, as a cat a mouse. Every movement of her +figure was music, her smile contagious, and, by a subtle mental telepathy, +she knew that the man before her felt it, and her heart was singing a +savage song of triumph. She could wait. She had everything to gain and +nothing to lose. She belonged to the pariah world of the Negro. Her love +was patient, joyous, insistent, unconquerable. + +It was unusually joyous to-night because she felt without words that the +mad desires that burned a living fire in every nerve of her young body had +scorched the man she had marked her own from the moment she had first laid +eyes on his serious, aristocratic face--for back of every hysterical cry +that came from her lips that night in the shadows beside old Peeler's house +lay the sinister purpose of a mad love that had leaped full grown from the +deeps of her powerful animal nature. + +She paused in the doorway and softly said: + +"Good night." + +The tone of her voice was a caress and the bold eyes laughed a daring +challenge straight into his. + +He stared at her a moment, flushed, turned pale and answered in a strained +voice: + +"Good night, Cleo." + +But it was not a good night for him. It was a night never to be forgotten. +Until after twelve he walked beneath the stars and fought the Beast--the +Beast with a thousand heads and a thousand legs; the Beast that had been +bred in the bone and sinew of generations of ancestors, wilful, cruel, +courageous conquerors of the world. Before its ravenous demands the words +of mother, teacher, priest and lawgiver were as chaff before the +whirlwind--the Beast demanded his own! Peace came at last with the vision +of a baby's laughing face peeping at him from the arms of a frail little +mother. + +He made up his mind and hurried home. He would get rid of this girl +to-morrow and never again permit her shadow to cross his pathway. With +other men of more sluggish temperament, position, dignity, the +responsibility of leadership, the restraints of home and religion might be +the guarantee of safety under such temptations. He didn't propose to risk +it. He understood now why he was so nervous and distracted in her presence. +The mere physical proximity to such a creature, vital, magnetic, unmoral, +beautiful and daring, could only mean one thing to a man of his age and +inheritance--a temptation so fierce that yielding could only be a question +of time and opportunity. + +And when he told her the next morning that she must not come again she was +not surprised, but accepted his dismissal without a word of protest. + +With a look of tenderness she merely said: + +"I'm sorry." + +"Yes," he went on curtly, "you annoy me; I can't write while you are +puttering around, and I'm always afraid you'll disturb some of my papers." + +She laughed in his face, a joyous, impudent, good-natured, ridiculous +laugh, that said more eloquently than words: + +"I understand your silly excuse. You're afraid of me. You're a big coward. +Don't worry, I can wait. You'll come to me. And if not, I'll find you--for +I shall be near--and now that you know and fear, I shall be very near!" + +She moved shyly to the door and stood framed in its white woodwork, an +appealing picture of dumb regret. + +She had anticipated this from the first. And from the moment she threw the +challenge into his eyes the night before, saw him flush and pale beneath +it, she knew it must come at once, and was prepared. There was no use to +plead and beg or argue. It would be a waste of breath with him in this +mood. + +Besides, she had already found a better plan. + +So when he began to try to soften his harsh decision with kindly words she +only smiled in the friendliest possible way, stepped back to his desk, +extended her hand, and said: + +"Please let me know if you need me. I'll do anything on earth for you, +major. Good-by." + +It was impossible to refuse the gracefully outstretched hand. The Southern +man had been bred from the cradle to the most intimate and friendly +personal relations with the black folks who were servants in the house. Yet +the moment he touched her hand, felt its soft warm pressure and looked into +the depths of her shining eyes he wished that he had sent her away with +downright rudeness. + +But it was impossible to be rude with this beautiful young animal that +purred at his side. He started to say something harsh, she laughed and he +laughed. + +She held his hand clasped in hers for a moment and slowly said: + +"I haven't done anything wrong, have I, major?" + +"No." + +"You are not mad at me for anything?" + +"No, certainly not." + +"I wonder why you won't let me work here?" + +She looked about the room and back at him, speaking slowly, musingly, with +an impudence that left little doubt in his mind that she suspected the real +reason and was deliberately trying to tease him. + +He flushed, hurriedly withdrew his hand and replied carelessly: + +"You bother me--can't work when you're fooling around." + +"All right, good-bye." + +He turned to his work and she was gone. He was glad she was out of his +sight and out of his life forever. He had been a fool to allow her in the +building at all. + +He could concentrate his mind now on his fight with the Governor. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE ARREST + + +The time had come in Norton's fight when he was about to be put to a +supreme test. + +The Governor was preparing the most daring and sensational movement of his +never-to-be-forgotten administration. The audacity and thoroughness with +which the Klan had disarmed and made ridiculous his army of fifty thousand +negroes was at first a stunning blow. In vain Schlitz stormed and pleaded +for National aid. + +"You must ask for Federal troops without a moment's delay," he urged +desperately. + +The Scalawag shook his head with quiet determination. + +"Congress, under the iron rule of Stevens, will send them, I grant you----" + +"Then why hesitate?" + +"Because their coming would mean that I have been defeated on my own soil, +that my administration of the state is a failure." + +"Well, isn't it?" + +"No; I'll make good my promises to the men in Washington who have backed +me. They are preparing to impeach the President, remove him from office and +appoint a dictator in his stead. I'll show them that I can play my part in +the big drama, too. I am going to deliver this state bound hand and foot +into their hands, with a triumphant negro electorate in the saddle, or +I'll go down in ignominious defeat." + +"You'll go down, all right--without those troops--mark my word," cried the +Carpetbagger. + +"All right, I'll go down flying my own flag." + +"You're a fool!" Schlitz roared. "Union troops are our only hope!" + +His Excellency kept his temper. The little ferret eyes beneath their bushy +brows were drawn to narrow lines as he slowly said: + +"On the other hand, my dear Schlitz, I don't think I could depend on +Federal troops if they were here." + +"No?" was the indignant sneer. + +"Frankly I do not," was the even answer. "Federal officers have not shown +themselves very keen about executing the orders of Reconstruction +Governors. They have often pretended to execute them and in reality treated +us with contempt. They hold, in brief, that they fought to preserve the +Union, not to make negroes rule over white men! The task before us is not +to their liking. I don't trust them for a moment. I have a better plan----" + +"What?" + +"I propose to raise immediately an army of fifty thousand loyal white men, +arm and drill them without delay----" + +"Where'll you get them?" Schlitz cried incredulously. + +"I'll find them if I have to drag the gutters for every poor white scamp in +the state. They'll be a tough lot, maybe, but they'll make good soldiers. A +soldier is a man who obeys orders, draws his pay, and asks no +questions----" + +"And then what?" + +"And then, sir!----" + +The Governor's leathery little face flushed as he sprang to his feet and +paced the floor of his office in intense excitement. + +"I'll tell you what then!" Schlitz cried with scorn. + +The pacing figure paused and eyed his tormentor, lifting his shaggy brows: + +"Yes?" + +"And then," the Carpetbagger answered, "the Ku Klux Klan will rise in a +night, jump on your mob of ragamuffins, take their guns and kick them back +into the gutter." + +"Perhaps," the Governor said, musingly, "if I give them a chance! But I +won't!" + +"You won't? How can you prevent it?" + +"Very simply. I'll issue a proclamation suspending the _writ_ of _habeas +corpus_----" + +"But you have no right," Schlitz gasped. The ex-scullion had been studying +law the past two years and aspired to the Supreme Court bench. + +"My right is doubtful, but it will go in times of revolution. I'll suspend +the _writ_, arrest the leaders of the Klan without warrant, put them in +jail and hold them there without trial until the day after the election." + +Schlitz's eyes danced as he sprang forward and extended his fat hand to the +Scalawag: + +"Governor, you're a great man! Only a great mind would dare such a plan. +But do you think your life will be safe?" + +The little figure was drawn erect and the ferret eyes flashed: + +"The Governor of a mighty commonwealth--they wouldn't dare lift their +little finger against me." + +Schlitz shook his head dubiously. + +"A pretty big job in times of peace--to suspend the civil law, order +wholesale arrests without warrants by a ragged militia and hold your men +without trial----" + +"I like the job!" was the quick answer. "I'm going to show the smart young +man who edits the paper in this town that he isn't running the universe." + +Again the adventurer seized the hand of his chief: + +"Governor, you're a great man! I take my hat off to you, sir." + +His Excellency smiled, lifted his sloping shoulders, moistened his thin +lips and whispered: + +"Not a word now to a living soul until I strike----" + +"I understand, sir, not a word," the Carpetbagger replied in low tones as +he nervously fumbled his hat and edged his way out of the room. + +The editor received the Governor's first move in the game with contempt. It +was exactly what he had expected--this organization of white renegades, +thieves, loafers, cut-throats, and deserters. It was the last resort of +desperation. Every day, while these dirty ignorant recruits were being +organized and drilled, he taunted the Governor over the personnel of his +"Loyal" army. He began the publication of the history of its officers and +men. These biographical stories were written with a droll humor that kept +the whole state in a good-humored ripple of laughter and inspired the +convention that nominated a complete white man's ticket to renewed +enthusiasm. + +And then the bolt from the blue--the Governor's act of supreme madness! + +As the editor sat at his desk writing an editorial congratulating the state +on the brilliant ticket that the white race had nominated and predicting +its triumphant election, in spite of negroes, thieves, cut-throats, +Scalawags and Carpetbaggers, a sudden commotion on the sidewalk in front of +his office stopped his pencil in the midst of an unfinished word. + +He walked to the window and looked out. By the flickering light of the +street lamp he saw an excited crowd gathering in the street. + +A company of the Governor's new guard had halted in front. An officer +ripped off the palings from the picket fence beside the building and sent a +squad of his men to the rear. + +The tramp of heavy feet on the stairs was heard and the dirty troopers +crowded into the editor's room, muskets in hand, cocked, and their fingers +on the triggers. + +Norton quietly drew the pencil from his ear, smiled at the mottled group of +excited men, and spoke in his slow drawl: + +"And why this excitement, gentlemen?" + +The captain stepped forward: + +"Are you Major Daniel Norton?" + +"I am, sir." + +"You're my prisoner." + +"Show your warrant!" was the quick challenge. + +"I don't need one, sir." + +"Indeed! And since when is this state under martial law?" + +"Will you go peaceable?" the captain asked roughly. + +"When I know by whose authority you make this arrest." + +The editor walked close to the officer, drew himself erect, his hands +clenched behind his back and held the man's eye for a moment with a cold +stare. + +The captain hesitated and drew a document from his pocket. + +The editor scanned it hastily and suddenly turned pale: + +"A proclamation suspending the _writ_ of _habeas corpus_--impossible!" + +The captain lifted his dirty palms: + +"I reckon you can read!" + +"Oh, yes, I can read it, captain--still it's impossible. You can't suspend +the law of gravitation by saying so on a scrap of paper----" + +"You are ready to go?" + +The editor laughed: + +"Certainly, certainly--with pleasure, I assure you." + +The captain lifted his hand and his men lowered their guns. The editor +seized a number of blank writing pads, a box of pencils, put on his hat and +called to his assistants: + +"I'm moving my office temporarily to the county jail, boys. It's quieter +over there. I can do better work. Send word to my home that I'm all right +and tell my wife not to worry for a minute. Every man to his post now and +the liveliest paper ever issued! And on time to the minute." + +The printers had crowded into the room and a ringing cheer suddenly +startled the troopers. + +The foreman held an ugly piece of steel in his hand and every man seemed to +have hold of something. + +"Give the word, chief!" the foreman cried. + +The editor smiled: + +"Thanks, boys, I understand. Go back to your work. You can help best that +way." + +The men dropped their weapons and crowded to the door, jeering and howling +in derision at the awkward squad as they stumbled down the stairs after +their commander, who left the building holding tightly to the editor's arm, +as if at any moment he expected an escape or a rescue. + +The procession wended its way to the jail behind the Court House through a +crowd of silent men who merely looked at the prisoner, smiled and nodded to +him over the heads of his guard. + +An ominous quiet followed the day's work. The Governor was amazed at the +way his sensational coup was received. He had arrested and thrown into jail +without warrant the leaders of the white party in every county in the +state. He was absolutely sure that these men were the leaders of the Ku +Klux Klan, the one invisible but terrible foe he really feared. + +He had expected bluster, protests, mass meetings and fiery resolutions. +Instead his act was received with a silence that was uncanny. In vain his +Carpetbagger lieutenant congratulated him on the success of his Napoleonic +move. + +His little ferret eyes snapped with suppressed excitement. + +"But what the devil is the meaning of this silence, Schlitz?" he asked with +a tremor. + +"They're stunned, I tell you. It was a master stroke. They're a lot of +cowards and sneaks, these night raiders, anyhow. It only took a bold act of +authority to throw them into a panic." + +The Scalawag shook his head thoughtfully: + +"Doesn't look like a panic to me--I'm uneasy----" + +"The only possible mistake you've made was the arrest of Norton." + +"Yes, I know public sentiment in the North don't like an attempt to +suppress free speech, but I simply had to do it. Damn him, I've stood his +abuse as long as I'm going to. Besides his dirty sheet is at the bottom of +all our trouble." + +When the Governor scanned his copy of the next morning's _Eagle and +Phoenix_ his feeling of uneasiness increased. + +Instead of the personal abuse he had expected from the young firebrand, he +read a long, carefully written editorial reviewing the history of the great +_writ_ of _habeas corpus_ in the evolution of human freedom. The essay +closed with the significant statement that no Governor in the records of +the state or the colony had ever dared to repeal or suspend this guarantee +of Anglo-Saxon liberty--not even for a moment during the chaos of the Civil +War. + +But the most disquieting feature of this editorial was the suggestive fact +that it was set between heavy mourning lines and at the bottom of it stood +a brief paragraph enclosed in even heavier black bands: + + "We regret to announce that the state is at present without + a chief executive. Our late unlamented Governor passed away + in a fit of insanity at three o'clock yesterday." + +When the little Scalawag read the sarcastic obituary he paled for a moment +and the hand which held the paper trembled so violently he was compelled to +lay it on the table to prevent his secretary from noting his excitement. + +For the first time in the history of the state an armed guard was stationed +at the door of the Governor's mansion that night. + +The strange calm continued. No move was made by the negroid government to +bring the imprisoned men to trial and apparently no effort was being made +by the men inside the jails to regain their liberty. + +Save that his editorials were dated from the county jail, no change had +occurred in the daily routine of the editor's life. He continued his series +of articles on the history of the state each day, setting them in heavy +black mourning lines. Each of these editorials ended with an appeal to the +patriotism of the reader. And the way in which he told the simple story of +each step achieved in the blood-marked struggle for liberty had a punch in +it that boded ill for the little man who had set himself the task of +dictatorship for a free people. + +No reference was made in the _Eagle and Phoenix_ to the Governor. He was +dead. The paper ignored his existence. Each day of this ominous peace among +his enemies increased the terror which had gripped the little Scalawag from +the morning he had read his first obituary. The big black rules down the +sides of those editorials seemed a foot wide now when he read them. + +Twice he seated himself at his desk to order the editor's release and each +time cringed and paused at the thought of the sneers with which his act +would be greeted. He was now between the devil and the deep sea. He was +afraid to retreat and dared not take the next step forward. If he could +hold his ground for two weeks longer, and carry the election by the +overwhelming majority he had planned, all would be well. Such a victory, +placing him in power for four years and giving him an obedient negro +Legislature once more to do his bidding, would strike terror to his foes +and silence their assaults. The negro voters far outnumbered the whites, +and victory was a certainty. And so he held his ground--until something +happened! + +It began in a semi-tropical rain storm that swept the state. All day it +poured in blinding torrents, the wind steadily rising in velocity until at +noon it was scarcely possible to walk the streets. + +At eight o'clock the rain ceased to fall and by nine glimpses of the moon +could be seen as the fast flying clouds parted for a moment. But for these +occasional flashes of moonlight the night was pitch dark. The Governor's +company of nondescript soldiers in camp at the Capitol, drenched with rain, +had abandoned their water-soaked tents for the more congenial atmosphere of +the low dives and saloons of the negro quarters. + +The minute the rain ceased to fall, Norton's wife sent his supper--but +to-night by a new messenger. Cleo smiled at him across the little table as +she skillfully laid the cloth, placed the dishes and set a tiny vase of +roses in the center. + +"You see," she began, smiling, "your wife needed me and I'm working at your +house now, major." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes. Mammy isn't well and I help with the baby. He's a darling. He loved +me the minute I took him in my arms and hugged him." + +"No doubt." + +"His little mother likes me, too. I can pick her up in my arms and carry +her across the room. You wouldn't think I'm so strong, would you?" + +"Yes--I would," he answered slowly, studying her with a look of increasing +wonder at her audacity. + +"You're not mad at me for being there, are you? You can't be--mammy wants +me so"--she paused--"Lordy, I forgot the letter!" + +She drew from her bosom a note from his wife. He looked curiously at a +smudge where it was sealed and, glancing at the girl who was busy with the +tray, opened and read: + + "I have just received a message from MacArthur's daughter + that your life is to be imperilled to-night by a dangerous + raid. Remember your helpless wife and baby. Surely there are + trusted men who can do such work. You have often told me + that no wise general ever risks his precious life on the + firing line. You are a soldier, and know this. Please, + dearest, do not go. Baby and little mother both beg of you!" + +Norton looked at Cleo again curiously. He was sure that the seal of this +note had been broken and its message read by her. + +"Do you know what's in this note, Cleo?" he asked sharply. + +"No, sir!" was the quick answer. + +He studied her again closely. She was on guard now. Every nerve alert, +every faculty under perfect control. He was morally sure she was lying and +yet it could only be idle curiosity or jealous interest in his affairs that +prompted the act. That she should be an emissary of the Governor was +absurd. + +"It's not bad news, I hope?" she asked with an eagerness that was just a +little too eager. The man caught the false note and frowned. + +"No," he answered carelessly. "It's of no importance." He picked up a pad +and wrote a hurried answer: + + "Don't worry a moment, dear. I am not in the slightest + danger. I know a soldier's duty and I'll not forget it. + Sleep soundly, little mother and baby mine!" + +He folded the sheet of paper and handed it to her without sealing it. She +was watching him keenly. His deep, serious eyes no longer saw her. His body +was there, but the soul was gone. The girl had never seen him in this mood. +She was frightened. His life _was_ in danger. She knew it now by an +unerring instinct. She would watch the jail and see what happened. She +might do something to win his friendship, and then--the rest would be easy. +Her hand trembled as she took the note. + +"Give this to Mrs. Norton at once," he said, "and tell her you found me +well and happy in my work." + +"Yes, sir," the soft voice answered mechanically as she picked up the tray +and left the room watching him furtively. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RESCUE + + +Cleo hurried to the house, delivered the message, rocked the baby to sleep +and quietly slipped through the lawn into the street and back to the jail. + +A single guard kept watch at the door. She saw him by a flash of moonlight +and then passed so close she could have touched the long old-fashioned +musket he carried loosely across his shoulder. + +The cat-like tread left no echo and she took her stand in the underbrush +that had pushed its way closer and closer until its branches touched the +rear walls of the jail. For two hours she stood amid the shadows, her keen +young ears listening and her piercing eyes watching. Again and again she +counted the steps the sentinel made as he walked back and forth in front of +the entrance to the jail. + +She knew from the sound that he passed the corner of the building for three +steps in full view from her position, could she but see him through the +darkness. Twice she had caught a glimpse of his stupid face as the moon +flashed a moment of light through a rift of clouds. + +"The Lord help that idiot," she muttered, "if the major's men want to pass +him to-night!" + +She turned with a sharp start. The bushes softly parted behind her and a +stealthy step drew near. Her heart stood still. She was afraid to breathe. +They wouldn't hurt her if they only knew she was the major's friend. But if +they found and recognized her as old Peeler's half-breed daughter, they +might kill her on the spot as a spy. + +She hadn't thought of this terrible possibility before. It was too late now +to think. To run meant almost certain death. She flattened her figure +against the wall of the jail and drew the underbrush close completely +covering her form. + +She stood motionless and as near breathless as possible until the two men +who were approaching a step at a time had passed. At the corner of the jail +they stopped within three feet of her. She could hear every word of their +conference. + +"Now, Mac, do as I tell you," a voice whispered. "Jump on him from behind +as he passes the corner and get him in the gills." + +"I understand." + +"Choke him stiff until I get something in his mouth." + +"Ah, it's too easy. I'd like a little excitement." + +"We'll get it before morning----" + +"Sh! what's that?" + +"I didn't hear anything!" + +"Something moved." + +A bush had slipped from Cleo's hand. She gripped the others with +desperation. Ten minutes passed amid a death-like silence. A hundred times +she imagined the hand of one of these men feeling for her throat. At last +she drew a deep breath. + +The men began to move step by step toward the doomed sentinel. They were +standing beside the front corner of the jail now waiting panther-like for +their prey. They allowed him to pass twice. He stopped at the end of his +beat, blew his nose and spoke to himself: + +"God, what a lonely night!" + +The girl heard him turn, his feet measure three steps on his return and +stop with a dull thud. She couldn't see, but she could feel through the +darkness the grip of those terrible fingers on his throat. The only sound +made was the dull thud of his body on the wet ground. + +In two minutes they had carried him into the shadows of a big china tree in +the rear and tied him to the trunk. She could hear their sharp order: + +"Break those cords now or dare to open your mouth and, no matter what +happens, we'll kill you first--just for luck." + +In ten minutes they had reported the success of their work to their +comrades who were waiting and the men who had been picked for their +dangerous task surrounded the jail and slowly took up their appointed +places in the shadows. + +The attacking group stopped for their final instructions not five feet from +the girl's position. A flash of moonlight and she saw them--six grim white +and scarlet figures wearing spiked helmets from which fell a cloth mask to +their shoulders. Their big revolvers were buckled on the outside of their +disguises and each man's hand rested on the handle. + +One of them quietly slipped his robe from his shoulders, removed his +helmet, put on the sentinel's coat and cap, seized his musket and walked to +the door of the jail. + +She heard him drop the butt of the gun on the flagstone at the steps and +call: + +"Hello, jailer!" + +Some one stirred inside. It was not yet one o'clock and the jailer who had +been to a drinking bout with the soldiers had not gone to bed. In his shirt +sleeves he thrust his head out the door: + +"Who is it?" + +"The guard, sir." + +"Well, what the devil do you want?" + +"Can't ye gimme a drink of somethin'? I'm soaked through and I've caught +cold----" + +"All right, in a minute," was the gruff reply. + +The girl could hear the soft tread of the shrouded figures closing in on +the front door. A moment more and it opened. The voice inside said: + +"Here you are!" + +The words had scarcely passed his lips, and there was another dull crash. A +dozen masked Clansmen hurled themselves into the doorway and rushed over +the prostrate form of the half-drunken jailer. He was too frightened to +call for help. He lay with his face downward, begging for his life. + +It was the work of a minute to take the keys from his trembling fingers, +bind and gag him, and release Norton. The whole thing had been done so +quietly not even a dog had barked at the disturbance. + +Again they stopped within a few feet of the trembling figure against the +wall. The editor had now put on his disguise and stood in the centre of the +group giving his orders as quietly as though he were talking to his +printers about the form of his paper. + +"Quick now, Mac," she heard him say, "we've not a moment to lose. I want +two pieces of scantling strong enough for a hangman's beam. Push one of +them out of the center window of the north end of the Capitol building, +the other from the south end. We'll hang the little Scalawag on the south +side and the Carpetbagger on the north. We'll give them this grim touch of +poetry at the end. Your ropes have ready swinging from these beams. Keep +your men on guard there until I come." + +"All right, sir!" came the quick response. + +"My hundred picked men are waiting?" + +"On the turnpike at the first branch----" + +"Good! The Governor is spending the night at Schlitz's place, three miles +out. He has been afraid to sleep at home of late, I hear. We'll give the +little man and his pal a royal escort for once as they approach the +Capitol--expect us within an hour." + +A moment and they were gone. The girl staggered from her cramped position +and flew to the house. She couldn't understand it all, but she realized +that if the Governor were killed it meant possible ruin for the man she had +marked her own. + +A light was still burning in the mother's room. She had been nervous and +restless and couldn't sleep. She heard the girl's swift, excited step on +the stairway and rushed to the door: + +"What is it? What has happened?" + +Cleo paused for breath and gasped: + +"They've broken the jail open and he's gone with the Ku Klux to kill the +Governor!" + +"To kill the Governor?" + +"Yessum. He's got a hundred men waiting out on the turnpike and they're +going to hang the Governor from one of the Capitol windows!" + +The wife caught the girl by the shoulders and cried: + +"Who told you this?" + +"Nobody. I saw them. I was passing the jail, heard a noise and went close +in the dark. I heard the major give the orders to the men." + +"Oh, my God!" the little mother groaned. "And they are going straight to +the Governor's mansion?" + +"No--no--he said the Governor's out at Schlitz's place, spending the night. +They're going to kill him, too----" + +"Then there's time to stop them--quick--can you hitch a horse?" + +"Yessum!" + +"Run to the stable, hitch my horse to the buggy and take a note I'll write +to my grandfather, old Governor Carteret--you know where his place is--the +big red brick house at the edge of town?" + +"Yessum----" + +"His street leads into the turnpike--quick now--the horse and buggy!" + +The strong young body sprang down the steps three and four rounds at a leap +and in five minutes the crunch of swift wheels on the gravel walk was +heard. + +She sprang up the stairs, took the note from the frail, trembling little +hand and bounded out of the house again. + +The clouds had passed and the moon was shining now in silent splendor on +the sparkling refreshed trees and shrubbery. The girl was an expert in +handling a horse. Old Peeler had at least taught her that. In five more +minutes from the time she had left the house she was knocking furiously at +the old Governor's door. He was eighty-four, but a man of extraordinary +vigor for his age. + +He came to the door alone in his night-dress, candle in hand, scowling at +the unseemly interruption of his rest. + +"What is it?" he cried with impatience. + +"A note from Mrs. Norton." + +At the mention of her name the fine old face softened and then his eyes +flashed: + +"She is ill?" + +"No, sir--but she wants you to help her." + +He took the note, placed the candle on the old-fashioned mahogany table in +his hall, returned to his room for his glasses, adjusted them with +deliberation and read its startling message. + +He spoke without looking up: + +"You know the road to Schlitz's house?" + +"Yes, sir, every foot of it." + +"I'll be ready in ten minutes." + +"We've no time to lose--you'd better hurry," the girl said nervously. + +The old man lifted his eyebrows: + +"I will. But an ex-Governor of the state can't rush to meet the present +Governor in his shirt-tail--now, can he?" + +Cleo laughed: + +"No, sir." + +The thin, sprightly figure moved quickly in spite of the eighty-four years +and in less than ten minutes he was seated beside the girl and they were +flying over the turnpike toward the Schlitz place. + +"How long since those men left the jail?" the old Governor asked roughly. + +"About a half-hour, sir." + +"Give your horse the rein--we'll be too late, I'm afraid." + +The lines slacked over the spirited animal's back and he sprang forward as +though lashed by the insult to his high breeding. + +The sky was studded now with stars sparkling in the air cleared by the +rain, and the moon flooded the white roadway with light. The buggy flew +over the beaten track for a mile, and as they suddenly plunged down a hill +the old man seized both sides of the canopy top to steady his body as the +light rig swayed first one way and then the other. + +"You're going pretty fast," he grumbled. + +"Yes, you said to give him the reins." + +"But I didn't say to throw them on the horse's head, did I?" + +"No, sir," the girl giggled. + +"Pull him in!" he ordered sharply. + +The strong young arms drew the horse suddenly down on his haunches and the +old man lurched forward. + +"I didn't say pull him into the buggy," he growled. + +The girl suppressed another laugh. He was certainly a funny old man for all +his eighty odd winters. She thought that he must have been a young devil at +eighteen. + +"Stop a minute!" he cried sharply. "What's that roaring?" + +Cleo listened: + +"The wind in the trees, I think." + +"Nothing of the sort--isn't this Buffalo creek?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That's water we hear. The creek's out of banks. The storm has made the +ford impassable. They haven't crossed this place yet. We're in time." + +The horse lifted his head and neighed. Another answered from the woods and +in a moment a white-masked figure galloped up to the buggy and spoke +sharply: + +"You can't cross this ford--turn back." + +"Are you one of Norton's men?" the old man asked angrily. + +"None of your damned business!" was the quick answer. + +"I think it is, sir! I'm Governor Carteret. My age and services to this +state entitle me to a hearing to-night. Tell Major Norton I must speak to +him immediately--immediately, sir!" His voice rose to a high note of +imperious command. + +The horseman hesitated and galloped into the shadows. A moment later a tall +shrouded figure on horseback slowly approached. + +"Cut your wheel," the old Governor said to the girl. He stepped from the +buggy without assistance. "Now turn round and wait for me." Cleo obeyed, +and the venerable statesman with head erect, his white hair and beard +shining in the moonlight calmly awaited the approach of the younger man. + +Norton dismounted and led his horse, the rein hanging loosely over his arm. + +"Well, Governor Carteret"--the drawling voice was low and quietly +determined. + +The white-haired figure suddenly stiffened: + +"Don't insult me, sir, by talking through a mask--take that thing off your +head." + +The major bowed and removed his mask. + +When the old man spoke again, his voice trembled with emotion, he stepped +close and seized Norton's arm: + +"My boy, have you gone mad?" + +"I think not," was the even answer. The deep brown eyes were holding the +older man's gaze with a cold, deadly look. "Were you ever arrested, +Governor, by the henchmen of a peanut politician and thrown into a filthy +jail without warrant and held without trial at the pleasure of a master?" + +"No--by the living God!" + +"And if you had been, sir?" + +"I'd have killed him as I would a dog--I'd have shot him on sight--but +you--you can't do this now, my boy--you carry the life of the people in +your hands to-night! You are their chosen leader. The peace and dignity of +a great commonwealth are in your care----" + +"I am asserting its outraged dignity against a wretch who has basely +betrayed it." + +"Even so, this is not the way. Think of the consequences to-morrow morning. +The President will be forced against his wishes to declare the state in +insurrection. The army will be marched back into our borders and martial +law proclaimed." + +"The state is under martial law--the _writ_ has been suspended." + +"But not legally, my boy. I know your provocation has been great--yes, +greater than I could have borne in my day. I'll be honest with you, but +you've had better discipline, my son. I belong to the old régime and an +iron will has been my only law. You must live in the new age under new +conditions. You must adjust yourself to these conditions." + +"The man who calls himself Governor has betrayed his high trust," Norton +broke in with solemn emphasis. "He has forfeited his life. The people whom +he has basely sold into bondage will applaud his execution. The Klan +to-night is the high court of a sovereign state and his death has been +ordered." + +"I insist there's a better way. Your Klan is a resistless weapon if +properly used. You are a maniac to-night. You are pulling your own house +down over your head. The election is but a few weeks off. Use your men as +an army to force this election. The ballot is force--physical force. Apply +that force. Your men can master that rabble of negroes on election day. +Drive them from the polls. They'll run like frightened sheep. Their +enfranchisement is a crime against civilization. Every sane man in the +North knows this. No matter how violent your methods, an election that +returns the intelligent and decent manhood of a state to power against a +corrupt, ignorant and vicious mob will be backed at last by the moral +sentiment of the world. There's a fiercer vengeance to be meted out to your +Scalawag Governor----" + +"What do you mean?" the younger man asked. + +"Swing the power of your Klan in solid line against the ballot-box at this +election, carry the state, elect your Legislature, impeach the Governor, +remove him from office, deprive him of citizenship and send him to the +grave with the brand of shame on his forehead!" + +The leader lifted his somber face, and the older man saw that he was +hesitating: + +"That's possible--yes----" + +The white head moved closer: + +"The only rational thing to do, my boy--come, I love you and I love my +granddaughter. You've a great career before you. Don't throw your life away +to-night in a single act of madness. Listen to an old man whose sands are +nearly run"--a trembling arm slipped around his waist. + +"I appreciate your coming here to-night, Governor, of course." + +"But if I came in vain, why at all?" there were tears in his voice now. +"You must do as I say, my son--send those men home! I'll see the Governor +to-morrow morning and I pledge you my word of honor that I'll make him +revoke that proclamation within an hour and restore the civil rights of the +people. None of those arrests are legal and every man must be released." + +"He won't do it." + +"When he learns from my lips that I saved his dog's life to-night, he'll do +it and lick my feet in gratitude. Won't you trust me, boy?" + +The pressure of the old man's arm tightened and his keen eyes searched +Norton's face. The strong features were convulsed with passion, he turned +away and the firm mouth closed with decision: + +"All right. I'll take your advice." + +The old Governor was very still for a moment and his voice quivered with +tenderness as he touched Norton's arm affectionately: + +"You're a good boy, Dan! I knew you'd hear me. God! how I envy you the +youth and strength that's yours to fight this battle!" + +The leader blew a whistle and his orderly galloped up: + +"Tell my men to go home and meet me to-morrow at one o'clock in the Court +House Square, in their everyday clothes, armed and ready for orders. I'll +dismiss the guard I left at the Capitol." + +The white horseman wheeled and galloped away. Norton quietly removed his +disguise, folded it neatly, took off his saddle, placed the robe between +the folds of the blanket and mounted his horse. + +The old Governor waved to him: + +"My love to the little mother and that boy, Tom, that you've named for me!" + +"Yes, Governor--good night." + +The tall figure on horseback melted into the shadows and in a moment the +buggy was spinning over the glistening, moonlit track of the turnpike. + +When they reached the first street lamps on the edge of town, the old man +peered curiously at the girl by his side. + +"You drive well, young woman," he said slowly. "Who taught you?" + +"Old Peeler." + +"You lived on his place?" he asked quickly. + +"Yes, sir." + +"What's your mother's name?" + +"Lucy." + +"Hm! I thought so." + +"Why, sir?" + +"Oh, nothing," was the gruff answer. + +"Did you--did you know any of my people, sir?" she asked. + +He looked her squarely in the face, smiled and pursed his withered lips: + +"Yes. I happen to be personally acquainted with your grandfather and he was +something of a man in his day." + +[Illustration: "'You are a maniac to-night.'"] + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A TRAITOR'S RUSE + + +The old Governor had made a correct guess on the line of action his little +Scalawag successor in high office would take when confronted by the crisis +of the morning. + +The Clansmen had left the two beams projecting through the windows of the +north and south wings of the Capitol. A hangman's noose swung from each +beam's end. + +When His Excellency drove into town next morning and received the news of +the startling events of the night, he ordered a double guard of troops for +his office and another for his house. + +Old Governor Carteret called at ten o'clock and was ushered immediately +into the executive office. No more striking contrast could be imagined +between two men of equal stature. Their weight and height were almost the +same, yet they seemed to belong to different races of men. The Scalawag +official hurried to meet his distinguished caller--a man whose +administration thirty years ago was famous in the annals of the state. + +The acting Governor seemed a pigmy beside his venerable predecessor. The +only prominent feature of the Scalawag's face was his nose. Its size should +have symbolized strength, yet it didn't. It seemed to project straight in +front in a way that looked ridiculous--as if some one had caught it with a +pair of tongs, tweaked and pulled it out to an unusual length. It was +elongated but not impressive. His mouth was weak, his chin small and +retreating and his watery ferret eyes never looked any one straight in the +face. The front of his head was bald and sloped backward at an angle. His +hair was worn in long, thin, straight locks which he combed often in a vain +effort to look the typical long-haired Southern gentleman of the old +school. + +His black broadcloth suit with a velvet collar and cuffs fitted his slight +figure to perfection and yet failed to be impressive. The failure was +doubtless due to his curious way of walking about a room. Sometimes +sideways like a crab or a crawfish, and when he sought to be impressive, +straight forward with an obvious jerk and an effort to appear dignified. + +He was the kind of a man an old-fashioned negro, born and bred in the homes +of the aristocratic régime of slavery, would always laugh at. His attempt +to be a gentleman was so obvious a fraud it could deceive no one. + +"I am honored, Governor Carteret, by your call this morning," he cried with +forced politeness. "I need the advice of our wisest men. I appreciate your +coming." + +The old Governor studied the Scalawag for a moment calmly and said: + +"Thank you." + +When shown to his seat the older man walked with the unconscious dignity of +a man born to rule, the lines of his patrician face seemed cut from a cameo +in contrast with the rambling nondescript features of the person who walked +with a shuffle beside him. It required no second glance at the clean +ruffled shirt with its tiny gold studs, the black string tie, the polished +boots and gold-headed cane to recognize the real gentleman of the old +school. And no man ever looked a second time at his Roman nose and massive +chin and doubted for a moment that he saw a man of power, of iron will and +fierce passions. + +"I have called this morning, Governor," the older man began with sharp +emphasis, "to advise you to revoke at once your proclamation suspending the +_writ_ of _habeas corpus_. Your act was a blunder--a colossal blunder! We +are not living in the Dark Ages, sir--even if you were elected by a negro +constituency! Your act is four hundred years out of date in the +English-speaking world." + +The Scalawag began his answer by wringing his slippery hands: + +"I realize, Governor Carteret, the gravity of my act. Yet grave dangers +call for grave remedies. You see from the news this morning the condition +of turmoil into which reckless men have plunged the state." + +The old man rose, crossed the room and confronted the Scalawag, his eyes +blazing, his uplifted hand trembling with passion: + +"The breed of men with whom you are fooling have not submitted to such an +act of tyranny from their rulers for the past three hundred years. Your +effort to set the negro up as the ruler of the white race is the act of a +madman. Revoke your order to-day or the men who opened that jail last night +will hang you----" + +The Governor laughed lamely: + +"A cheap bluff, sir, a schoolboy's threat!" + +The older man drew closer: + +"A cheap bluff, eh? Well, when you say your prayers to-night, don't forget +to thank your Maker for two things--that He sent a storm yesterday that +made Buffalo creek impassable and that I reached its banks in time!" + +The little Scalawag paled and his voice was scarcely a whisper: + +"Why--why, what do you mean?" + +"That I reached the ford in time to stop a hundred desperate men who were +standing there in the dark waiting for its waters to fall that they might +cross and hang you from that beam's end you call a cheap bluff! That I +stood there in the moonlight with my arm around their leader for nearly an +hour begging, praying, pleading for your damned worthless life! They gave +it to me at last because I asked it. No other man could have saved you. +Your life is mine to-day! But for my solemn promise to those men that you +would revoke that order your body would be swinging at this moment from the +Capitol window--will you make good my promise?" + +"I'll--I'll consider it," was the waning answer. + +"Yes or no?" + +"I'll think it over, Governor Carteret--I'll think it over," the trembling +voice repeated. "I must consult my friends----" + +"I won't take that answer!" the old man thundered in his face. "Revoke that +proclamation here and now, or, by the Lord God, I'll send a message to +those men that'll swing you from the gallows before the sun rises to-morrow +morning!" + +"I've got my troops----" + +"A hell of a lot of troops they are! Where were they last night--the +loafing, drunken cowards? You can't get enough troops in this town to save +you. Revoke that proclamation or take your chances!" + +The old Governor seized his hat and walked calmly toward the door. The +Scalawag trembled, and finally said: + +"I'll take your advice, sir--wait a moment until I write the order." + +The room was still for five minutes, save for the scratch of the Governor's +pen, as he wrote his second famous proclamation, restoring the civil rights +of the people. He signed and sealed the document and handed it to his +waiting guest: + +"Is that satisfactory?" + +The old man adjusted his glasses, read each word carefully, and replied +with dignity: + +"Perfectly--good morning!" + +The white head erect, the visitor left the executive chamber without a +glance at the man he despised. + +The Governor had given his word, signed and sealed his solemn proclamation, +but he proved himself a traitor to the last. + +With the advice of his confederates he made a last desperate effort to gain +his end of holding the leaders of the opposition party in jail by a quick +shift of method. He wired orders to every jailer to hold the men until +warrants were issued for their arrest by one of his negro magistrates in +each county and wired instructions to the clerk of the court to admit none +of them to bail no matter what amount offered. + +The charges on which these warrants were issued were, in the main, +preposterous perjuries by the hirelings of the Governor. There was no +expectation that they would be proven in court. But if they could hold +these prisoners until the election was over the little Scalawag believed +the Klan could be thus intimidated in each district and the negro ticket +triumphantly elected. + +The Governor was explicit in his instructions to the clerk of the court in +the Capital county that under no conceivable circumstances should he accept +bail for the editor of the _Eagle and Phoenix_. + +The Governor's proclamation was issued at noon and within an hour a deputy +sheriff appeared at Norton's office and served his warrant charging the +preposterous crime of "Treason and Conspiracy" against the state +government. + +Norton's hundred picked men were already lounging in the Court House +Square. When the deputy appeared with his prisoner they quietly closed in +around him and entered the clerk's room in a body. The clerk was dumfounded +at the sudden packing of his place with quiet, sullen looking, armed men. +Their revolvers were in front and the men were nervously fingering the +handles. + +The clerk had been ordered by the Governor under no circumstances to accept +bail, and he had promised with alacrity to obey. But he changed his mind at +the sight of those revolvers. Not a word was spoken by the men and the +silence was oppressive. The frightened official mopped his brow and tried +to leave for a moment to communicate with the Capitol. He found it +impossible to move from his desk. The men were jammed around him in an +impenetrable mass. He looked over the crowd in vain for a friendly face. +Even the deputy who had made the arrest had been jostled out of the room +and couldn't get back. + +The editor looked at the clerk steadily for a moment and quietly asked: + +"What amount of bail do you require?" + +The officer smiled wanly: + +"Oh, major, it's just a formality with you, sir; a mere nominal sum of $500 +will be all right." + +"Make out your bond," the editor curtly ordered. "My friends here will sign +it." + +"Certainly, certainly, major," was the quick answer. "Have a seat, sir, +while I fill in the blank." + +"I'll stand, thank you," was the quick reply. + +The clerk's pen flew while he made out the forbidden bail which set at +liberty the arch enemy of the Governor. When it was signed and the daring +young leader quietly walked out the door, a cheer from a hundred men rent +the air. + +The shivering clerk cowered in his seat over his desk and pretended to be +very busy. In reality he was breathing a prayer of thanks to God for +sparing his life and registering a solemn vow to quit politics and go back +to farming. + +The editor hurried to his office and sent a message to each district leader +of the Klan to secure bail for the accused men in the same quiet manner. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE IRONY OF FATE + + +His political battle won, Norton turned his face homeward for a struggle in +which victory would not come so easily. He had made up his mind that Cleo +should not remain under his roof another day. How much she really knew or +understood of the events of the night he could only guess. He was sure she +had heard enough of the plans of his men to make a dangerous witness +against him if she should see fit to betray the facts to his enemies. + +Yet he was morally certain that he could trust her with this secret. What +he could not and would not do was to imperil his own life and character by +a daily intimate association with this willful, impudent, smiling young +animal. + +His one fear was the wish of his wife to keep her. In her illness she had +developed a tyranny of love that brooked no interference with her whims. He +had petted and spoiled her until it was well-nigh impossible to change the +situation. The fear of her death was the sword that forever hung over his +head. + +[Illustration: "Sitting astride her back, laughing his loudest."] + +He hoped that the girl was lying when she said his wife liked her. Yet it +was not improbable. Her mind was still a child's. She could not think evil +of any one. She loved the young and she loved grace and beauty wherever she +saw it. She loved a beautiful cat, a beautiful dog, and always had taken +pride in a handsome servant. It would be just like her to take a fancy to +Cleo that no argument could shake. He dreaded to put the thing to an +issue--but it had to be done. It was out of the question to tell her the +real truth. + +His heart sank within him as he entered his wife's room. Mammy had gone to +bed suffering with a chill. The doctors had hinted that she was suffering +from an incurable ailment and that her days were numbered. Her death might +occur at any time. + +Cleo was lying flat on a rug, the baby was sitting astride of her back, +laughing his loudest at the funny contortions of her lithe figure. She +would stop every now and then, turn her own laughing eyes on him and he +would scream with joy. + +The little mother was sitting on the floor like a child and laughing at the +scene. In a flash he realized that Cleo had made herself, in the first few +days she had been in his house, its dominant spirit. + +He paused in the doorway sobered by the realization. + +The supple young form on the floor slowly writhed on her back without +disturbing the baby's sturdy hold, his little legs clasping her body tight. +She drew his laughing face to her shoulder, smothering his laughter with +kisses, and suddenly sprang to her feet, the baby astride her neck, and +began galloping around the room. + +"W'oa! January, w'oa, sir!" she cried, galloping slowly at first and then +prancing like a playful horse. + +Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling and red hair flying in waves of +fiery beauty over her exquisite shoulders, every change of attitude a new +picture of graceful abandon, every movement of her body a throb of savage +music from some strange seductive orchestra hidden in the deep woods! + +Its notes slowly stole over the senses of the man with such alluring power, +that in spite of his annoyance he began to smile. + +The girl stopped, placed the child on the floor, ran to the corner of the +room, dropped on all fours and started slowly toward him, her voice +imitating the deep growl of a bear. + +"Now the bears are going to get him!--Boo-oo-oo." + +The baby screamed with delight. The graceful young she-bear capered around +her victim from side to side, smelling his hands and jumping back, +approaching and retreating, growling and pawing the floor, while with each +movement the child shouted a new note of joy. + +The man, watching, wondered if this marvelous creamy yellow animal could +get into an ungraceful position. + +The keen eyes of the young she-bear saw the boy had worn himself out with +laughter and slowly approached her victim, tumbled his happy flushed little +form over on the rug and devoured him with kisses. + +"Don't, Cleo--that's enough now!" the little mother cried, through her +tears of laughter. + +"Yessum--yessum--I'm just eatin' him up now--I'm done--and he'll be asleep +in two minutes." + +She sprang to her feet, crushing the little form tenderly against her warm, +young bosom, and walked past the man smiling into his face a look of +triumph. The sombre eyes answered with a smile in spite of himself. + +Could any man with red blood in his veins fight successfully a force like +that? He heard the growl of the Beast within as he stood watching the +scene. The sight of the frail little face of his invalid wife brought him +up against the ugly fact with a sharp pain. + +Yet the moment he tried to broach the subject of discharging Cleo, he +hesitated, stammered and was silent. At last he braced himself with +determination for the task. It was disagreeable, but it had to be done. The +sooner the better. + +"You like this girl, my dear?" he said softly. + +"She's the most wonderful nurse I ever saw--the baby's simply crazy about +her!" + +"Yes, I see," he said soberly. + +"It's a perfectly marvellous piece of luck that she came the day she did. +Mammy was ready to drop. She's been like a fairy in the nursery from the +moment she entered. The kiddy has done nothing but laugh and shriek with +delight." + +"And you like her personally?" + +"I've just fallen in love with her! She's so strong and young and +beautiful. She picks me up, laughing like a child, and carries me into the +bathroom, carries me back and tucks me in bed as easily as she does the +baby." + +"I'm sorry, my dear," he interrupted with a firm, hard note in his voice. + +"Sorry--for what?" the blue eyes opened with astonishment. + +"Because I don't like her, and her presence here may be very dangerous just +now----" + +"Dangerous--what on earth can you mean?" + +"To begin with that she's a negress----" + +"So's mammy--so's the cook--the man--every servant we've ever had--or will +have----" + +"I'm not so sure of the last," the husband broke in with a frown. + +"What's dangerous about the girl, I'd like to know?" his wife demanded. + +"I said, to begin with, she's a negress. That's perhaps the least +objectionable thing about her as a servant. But she has bad blood in her on +her father's side. Old Peeler's as contemptible a scoundrel as I know in +the county----" + +"The girl don't like him--that's why she left home." + +"Did she tell you that?" he asked quizzically. + +"Yes, and I'm sorry for her. She wants a good home among decent white +people and I'm not going to give her up. I don't care what you say." + +The husband ignored the finality of this decision and went on with his +argument as though she had not spoken. + +"Old Peeler is not only a low white scoundrel who would marry this girl's +mulatto mother if he dared, but he is trying to break into politics as a +negro champion. He denies it, but he is a henchman of the Governor. I'm in +a fight with this man to the death. There's not room for us both in the +state----" + +"And you think this laughing child cares anything about the Governor or his +dirty politics? Such a thing has never entered her head." + +"I'm not sure of that." + +"You're crazy, Dan." + +"But I'm not so crazy, my dear, that I can't see that this girl's presence +in our house is dangerous. She already knows too much about my +affairs--enough, in fact, to endanger my life if she should turn traitor." + +"But she won't tell, I tell you--she's loyal--I'd trust her with my life, +or yours, or the baby's, without hesitation. She proved her loyalty to me +and to you last night." + +"Yes, and that's just why she's so dangerous." He spoke slowly, as if +talking to himself. "You can't understand, dear, I am entering now the last +phase of a desperate struggle with the little Scalawag who sits in the +Governor's chair for the mastery of this state and its life. The next two +weeks and this election will decide whether white civilization shall live +or a permanent negroid mongrel government, after the pattern of Haiti and +San Domingo, shall be established. If we submit, we are not worth saving. +We ought to die and our civilization with us! We are not going to submit, +we are not going to die, we are going to win. I want you to help me now by +getting rid of this girl." + +"I won't give her up. There's no sense in it. A man who fought four years +in the war is not afraid of a laughing girl who loves his baby and his +wife! I can't risk a green, incompetent girl in the nursery now. I can't +think of breaking in a new one. I like Cleo. She's a breath of fresh air +when she comes into my room; she's clean and neat; she sings beautifully; +her voice is soft and low and deep; I love her touch when she dresses me; +the baby worships her--is all this nothing to you?" + +"Is my work nothing to you?" he answered soberly. + +"Bah! It's a joke! Your work has nothing to do with this girl. She knows +nothing, cares nothing for politics--it's absurd!" + +"My dear, you must listen to me now----" + +"I won't listen. I'll have my way about my servants. It's none of your +business. Look after your politics and let the nursery alone!" + +"Please be reasonable, my love. I assure you I'm in dead earnest. The +danger is a real one, or I wouldn't ask this of you--please----" + +"No--no--no--no!" she fairly shrieked. + +His voice was very quiet when he spoke at last: + +"I'm sorry to cross you in this, but the girl must leave to-night." + +The tones of his voice and the firm snap of his strong jaw left further +argument out of the question and the little woman played her trump card. + +She sprang to her feet, pale with rage, and gave way to a fit of hysteria. +He attempted to soothe her, in grave alarm over the possible effects on her +health of such a temper. + +With a piercing scream she threw herself across the bed and he bent over +her tenderly: + +"Please, don't act this way!" + +Her only answer was another scream, her little fists opening and closing +like a bird's talons gripping the white counterpane in her trembling +fingers. + +The man stood in helpless misery and sickening fear, bent low and +whispered: + +"Please, please, darling--it's all right--she can stay. I won't say another +word. Don't make yourself ill. Please don't!" + +The sobbing ceased for a moment, and he added: + +"I'll go into the nursery and send her here to put you to bed." + +He turned to the door and met Cleo entering. + +"Miss Jean called me?" she asked with a curious smile playing about her +greenish eyes. + +"Yes. She wishes you to put her to bed." + +The girl threw him a look of triumphant tenderness and he knew that she had +heard and understood. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A NEW WEAPON + + +From the moment the jail doors opened the Governor felt the chill of +defeat. With his armed guard of fifty thousand "Loyal" white men he hoped +to stem the rising tide of Anglo-Saxon fury. But the hope was faint. There +was no assurance in its warmth. Every leader he had arrested without +warrant and held without bail was now a firebrand in a powder magazine. +Mass meetings, barbecues and parades were scheduled for every day by his +enemies in every county. + +The state was ablaze with wrath from the mountains to the sea. The orators +of the white race spoke with tongues of flame. + +The record of negro misrule under an African Legislature was told with +brutal detail and maddening effects. The state treasury was empty, the +school funds had been squandered, millions in bonds had been voted and +stolen and the thieves had fled the state in terror. + +All this the Governor knew from the first, but he also knew that an +ignorant negro majority would ask no questions and believe no evil of their +allies. + +The adventurers from the North had done their work of alienating the races +with a thoroughness that was nothing short of a miracle. The one man on +earth who had always been his best friend, every negro now held his +bitterest foe. He would consult his old master about any subject under the +sun and take his advice against the world except in politics. He would come +to the back door, beg him for a suit of clothes, take it with joyous +thanks, put it on and march straight to the polls and vote against the hand +that gave it. + +He asked no questions as to his own ticket. It was all right if it was +against the white man of the South. The few Scalawags who trained with +negroes to get office didn't count. + +The negro had always despised such trash. The Governor knew his solid black +constituency would vote like sheep, exactly as they were told by their new +teachers. + +But the nightmare that disturbed him now, waking or dreaming, was the fear +that this full negro vote could not be polled. The daring speeches by the +enraged leaders of the white race were inflaming the minds of the people +beyond the bounds of all reason. These leaders had sworn to carry the +election and dared the Governor to show one of his scurvy guards near a +polling place on the day they should cast their ballots. + +The Ku Klux Klan openly defied all authority. Their men paraded the county +roads nightly and ended their parades by lining their horsemen in cavalry +formation, galloping through the towns and striking terror to every denizen +of the crowded negro quarters. + +In vain the Governor issued frantic appeals for the preservation of the +sanctity of the ballot. His speeches in which he made this appeal were +openly hissed. + +The ballot was no longer a sacred thing. The time was in American history +when it was the badge of citizen kingship. At this moment the best men in +the state were disfranchised and hundreds of thousands of negroes, with the +instincts of the savage and the intelligence of the child, had been given +the ballot. Never in the history of civilization had the ballot fallen so +low in any republic. The very atmosphere of a polling place was a stench in +the nostrils of decent men. + +The determination of the leaders of the Klan to clear the polls by force if +need be was openly proclaimed before the day of election. The philosophy by +which they justified this stand was simple, and unanswerable, for it was +founded in the eternal verities. Men are not made free by writing a +constitution on a piece of paper. Freedom is inside. A ballot is only a +symbol. That symbol stands for physical force directed by the highest +intelligence. The ballot, therefore, is force--physical force. Back of +every ballot is a bayonet and the red blood of the man who holds it. +Therefore, a minority submits to the verdict of a majority at the polls. If +there is not an intelligent, powerful fighting unit back of the scrap of +paper that falls into a box, there's nothing there and that man's ballot +has no more meaning than if it had been deposited by a trained pig or a +dog. + +On the day of this fated election the little Scalawag Governor sat in the +Capitol, the picture of nervous despair. Since sunrise his office had been +flooded with messages from every quarter of the state begging too late for +troops. Everywhere his henchmen were in a panic. From every quarter the +stories were the same. + +Hundreds of determined, silent white men had crowded the polls, taken their +own time to vote and refused to give an inch of room to the long line of +panic-stricken negroes who looked on helplessly. At five o'clock in the +afternoon less than a hundred blacks had voted in the entire township in +which the Capital was located. + +Norton was a candidate for the Legislature on the white ticket, and the +Governor had bent every effort to bring about his defeat. The candidate +against him was a young negro who had been a slave of his father, and now +called himself Andy Norton. Andy had been a house-servant, was exactly the +major's age and they had been playmates before the war. He was endowed with +a stentorian voice and a passion for oratory. He had acquired a reputation +for smartness, was good-natured, loud-mouthed, could tell a story, play the +banjo and amuse a crowd. He had been Norton's body-servant the first year +of the war. + +The Governor relied on Andy to swing a resistless tide of negro votes for +the ticket and sweep the county. Under ordinary conditions, he would have +done it. But before the hurricane of fury that swept the white race on the +day of the election, the voice of Andy was as one crying in the wilderness. + +He had made three speeches to his crowd of helpless black voters who hadn't +been able to vote. The Governor sent him an urgent message to mass his men +and force their way to the ballot box. + +The polling place was under a great oak that grew in the Square beside the +Court House. A space had been roped off to guard the approach to the boxes. +Since sunrise this space had been packed solid with a living wall of white +men. Occasionally a well-known old negro of good character was allowed to +pass through and vote and then the lines closed up in solid ranks. + +One by one a new white man was allowed to take his place in this wall and +gradually he was moved up to the tables on which the boxes rested, voted, +and slowly, like the movement of a glacier, the line crowded on in its +endless circle. + +The outer part of this wall of defense which the white race had erected +around the polling place was held throughout the day by the same +men--twenty or thirty big, stolid, dogged countrymen, who said nothing, but +every now and then winked at each other. + +When Andy received the Governor's message he decided to distinguish +himself. It was late in the day, but not too late perhaps to win by a +successful assault. He picked out twenty of his strongest buck negroes, +moved them quietly to a good position near the polls, formed them into a +flying wedge, and, leading the assault in person with a loud good-natured +laugh, he hurled them against the outer line of whites. + +To Andy's surprise the double line opened and yielded to his onset. He had +forced a dozen negroes into the ranks when to his surprise the white walls +suddenly closed on the blacks and held them as in a steel trap. + +And then, quick as a flash, something happened. It was a month before the +negroes found out exactly what it was. They didn't see it, they couldn't +hear it, but they knew it happened. They _felt_ it. + +And the silent swiftness with which it happened was appalling. Every negro +who had penetrated the white wall suddenly leaped into the air with a yell +of terror. The white line opened quickly and to a man the negro wedge broke +and ran for life, each black hand clasped in agony on the same spot. + +Andy's voice rang full and clear above his men's: + +"Goddermighty, what's dat!" + +"Dey shot us, man!" screamed a negro. + +The thing was simple, almost childlike in its silliness, but it was +tremendously effective. The white guard in the outer line had each been +armed with a little piece of shining steel three inches long, fixed in a +handle--a plain shoemaker's pegging awl. At a given signal they had wheeled +and thrust these awls into the thick flesh of every negro's thigh. + +The attack was so sudden, so unexpected, and the pain so sharp, so +terrible, for the moment every negro's soul was possessed with a single +idea, how to save his particular skin and do it quickest. All _esprit de +corps_ was gone. It was each for himself and the devil take the hindmost! +Some of them never stopped running until they cleared Buffalo creek, three +miles out of town. + +Andy's ambitions were given a violent turn in a new direction. Before the +polls closed at sundown he appeared at the office of the _Eagle and +Phoenix_ with a broad grin on his face and asked to see the major. + +He entered the editor's room bowing and scraping, his white teeth gleaming. + +Norton laughed and quietly said: + +"Well, Andy?" + +"Yassah, major, I des drap roun' ter kinder facilitate ye, sah, on de +'lection, sah." + +"It does look like the tide is turning, Andy." + +"Yassah, hit sho' is turnin', but hit's gotter be a purty quick tide dat +kin turn afore I does, sah." + +"Yes?" + +"Yassah! And I drap in, major, ter 'splain ter you dat I'se gwine ter +gently draw outen politics, yassah. I makes up my min' ter hitch up wid de +white folks agin. Brought up by de Nortons, sah, I'se always bin a gemman, +an' I can't afford to smut my hands wid de crowd dat I been 'sociating wid. +I'se glad you winnin' dis 'lection, sah, an' I'se glad you gwine ter de +Legislature--anyhow de office gwine ter stay in de Norton fambly--an' I'se +satisfied, sah. I know you gwine ter treat us far an' squar----" + +"If I'm elected I'll try to represent all the people, Andy," the major said +gravely. + +"If you'se 'lected?" Andy laughed. "Lawd, man, you'se dar right now! I kin +des see you settin' in one dem big chairs! I knowed it quick as I feel dat +thing pop fro my backbone des now! Yassah, I done resigned, an' I thought, +major, maybe you get a job 'bout de office or 'bout de house fer er young +likely nigger 'bout my size?" + +The editor smiled: + +"Nothing just now, Andy, but possibly I can find a place for you in a few +days." + +"Thankee, sah. I'll hold off den till you wants me. I'll des pick up er few +odd jobs till you say de word--you won't fergit me?" + +"No. I'll remember." + +"An', major, ef you kin des advance me 'bout er dollar on my wages now, I +kin cheer myself up ter-night wid er good dinner. Dese here loafers done +bust me. I hain't got er nickel lef!" + +The major laughed heartily and "advanced" his rival for Legislative honors +a dollar. + +Andy bowed to the floor: + +"Any time you'se ready, major, des lemme know, sah. You'll fin' me a handy +man 'bout de house, sah." + +"All right, Andy, I may need you soon." + +"Yassah, de sooner de better, sah," he paused in the door. "Dey gotter get +up soon in de mornin', sah, ter get erhead er us Nortons--yassah, dat dey +is----" + +A message, the first news of the election, cut Andy's gabble short. It +spelled Victory! One after another they came from every direction--north, +south, east and west--each bringing the same magic word--victory! victory! +A state redeemed from negroid corruption! A great state once more in the +hands of the children of the men who created it! + +It had only been necessary to use force to hold the polls from hordes of +ignorant negroes in the densest of the black counties. The white majorities +would be unprecedented. The enthusiasm had reached the pitch of mania in +these counties. They would all break records. + +A few daring men in the black centres of population, where negro rule was +at its worst, had guarded the polls under his direction armed with the +simple device of a shoemaker's awl, and in every case where it had been +used the resulting terror had cleared the place of every negro. In not a +single case where this novel weapon had been suddenly and mysteriously +thrust into a black skin was there an attempt to return to the polls. A +long-suffering people, driven at last to desperation, had met force with +force and wrested a commonwealth from the clutches of the vandals who were +looting and disgracing it. + +Now he would call the little Scalawag to the bar of justice. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE WORDS THAT COST + + +It was after midnight when Norton closed his desk and left for home. +Bonfires were burning in the squares, bands were playing and hundreds of +sober, gray-haired men were marching through the streets, hand in hand with +shouting boys, cheering, cheering, forever cheering! He had made three +speeches from the steps of the _Eagle and Phoenix_ building and the crowds +still stood there yelling his name and cheering. Broad-shouldered, bronzed +men had rushed into his office one by one that night, hugged him and wrung +his hands until they ached. He must have rest. The strain had been terrific +and in the reaction he was pitifully tired. + +The lights were still burning in his wife's room. She was waiting with Cleo +for his return. He had sent her the bulletins as they had come and she knew +the result of the election almost as soon as he. It was something very +unusual that she should remain up so late. The doctor had positively +forbidden it since her last attack. + +"Cleo and I were watching the procession," she exclaimed. "I never saw so +many crazy people since I was born." + +"They've had enough to drive them mad the past two years, God knows," he +answered, as his eye rested on Cleo, who was dressed in an old silk kimono +belonging to his wife, which a friend of her grandfather had sent her from +Japan. + +She saw his look of surprise and said casually: + +"I gave it to Cleo. I never liked the color. Cleo's to stay in the house +hereafter. I've moved her things from the servants' quarters to the little +room in the hall. I want her near me at night. You stay so late sometimes." + +He made no answer, but the keen eyes of the girl saw the silent rage +flashing from his eyes and caught the look of fierce determination as he +squared his shoulders and gazed at her for a moment. She knew that he would +put her out unless she could win his consent. She had made up her mind to +fight and never for a moment did she accept the possibility of defeat. + +He muttered an incoherent answer to his wife, kissed her good night, and +went to his room. He sat down in the moonlight beside the open window, +lighted a cigar and gazed out on the beautiful lawn. + +His soul raged in fury over the blind folly of his wife. If the devil +himself had ruled the world he could not have contrived more skillfully to +throw this dangerous, sensuous young animal in his way. It was horrible! He +felt himself suffocating with the thought of its possibilities! He rose and +paced the floor and sat down again in helpless rage. + +The door softly opened and closed and the girl stood before him in the +white moonlight, her rounded figure plainly showing against the shimmering +kimono as the breeze through the window pressed the delicate silk against +her flesh. + +He turned on her angrily: + +"How dare you?" + +[Illustration: "'How dare you?'"] + +"Why, I haven't done anything, major!" she answered softly. "I just came in +to pick up that basket of trash I forgot this morning"--she spoke in low, +lingering tones. + +He rose, walked in front of her, looked her in the eye and quietly said: + +"You're lying." + +"Why, major----" + +"You know that you are lying. Now get out of this room--and stay out of it, +do you hear?" + +"Yes, I hear," came the answer that was half a sob. + +"And make up your mind to leave this place to-morrow, or I'll put you out, +if I have to throw you head foremost into the street." + +She took a step backward, shook her head and the mass of tangled red hair +fell from its coil and dropped on her shoulders. Her eyes were watching him +now with dumb passionate yearning. + +"Get out!" he ordered brutally. + +A moment's silence and a low laugh was her answer. + +"Why do you hate me?" she asked the question with a note of triumph. + +"I don't," he replied with a sneer. + +"Then you're afraid of me!" + +"Afraid of you?" + +"Yes." + +He took another step and towered above her, his fists clenched and his +whole being trembled with anger: + +"I'd like to strangle you!" + +She flung back her rounded throat, shook the long waves of hair down her +back and lifted her eyes to his: + +"Do it! There's my throat! I want you to. I wouldn't mind dying that way!" + +He drew a deep breath and turned away. + +With a sob the straight figure suddenly crumpled on the floor, a scarlet +heap in the moonlight. She buried her face in her hands, choked back the +cries, fought for self-control, and then looked up at him through her eyes +half blinded by tears: + +"Oh, what's the use! I won't lie any more. I didn't come in here for the +basket. I came to see you. I came to beg you to let me stay. I watched you +to-night when she told you that I was to sleep in that room there, and I +knew you were going to send me away. Please don't! Please let me stay! I +can do you no harm, major! I'll be wise, humble, obedient. I'll live only +to please you. I haven't a single friend in the world. I hate negroes. I +loathe poor white trash. This is my place, here in your home, among the +birds and flowers, with your baby in my arms. You know that I love him and +that he loves me. I'll work for you as no one else on earth would. My hands +will be quick and my feet swift. I'll be your slave, your dog--you can kick +me, beat me, strangle me, kill me if you like, but don't send me away--I--I +can't help loving you! Please--please don't drive me away." + +The passionate, throbbing voice broke into a sob and she touched his foot +with her hand. He could feel the warmth of the soft, young flesh. He +stooped and drew her to her feet. + +"Come, child," he said with a queer hitch in his voice, "you--you--mustn't +stay here another moment. I'm sorry----" + +She clung to his hand with desperate pleading and pressed close to him: + +"But you won't send me away?" + +She could feel him trembling. + +He hesitated, and then against the warning of conscience, reason, judgment +and every instinct of law and self-preservation, he spoke the words that +cost so much: + +"No--I--I--won't send you away!" + +With a sob of gratitude her head sank, the hot lips touched his hand, a +rustle of silk and she was gone. + +And through every hour of the long night, maddened by the consciousness of +her physical nearness--he imagined at times he could hear her breathing in +the next room--he lay awake and fought the Beast for the mastery of life. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MAN TO MAN + + +Cleo made good her vow of perfect service. In the weeks which followed she +made herself practically indispensable. Her energy was exhaustless, her +strength tireless. She not only kept the baby and the little mother happy, +she watched the lawn and the flowers. The men did no more loafing. The +grass was cut, the hedges trimmed, every dead limb from shrub and tree +removed and the old place began to smile with new life. + +Her work of housekeeper and maid-of-all-work was a marvel of efficiency. No +orders were ever given to her. They were unnecessary. She knew by an +unerring instinct what was needed and anticipated the need. + +And then a thing happened that fixed her place in the house on the firmest +basis. + +The baby had taken a violent cold which quickly developed into pneumonia. +The doctor looked at the little red fever-scorched face and parched lips +with grave silence. He spoke at last with positive conviction: + +"His life depends on a nurse, Norton. All I can do is to give orders. The +nurse must save him." + +With a sob in her voice, Cleo said: + +"Let me--I'll save him. He can't die if it depends on that." + +The doctor turned to the mother. + +"Can you trust her?" + +"Absolutely. She's quick, strong, faithful, careful, and she loves him." + +"You agree, major?" + +"Yes, we couldn't do better," he answered gravely, turning away. + +And so the precious life was given into her hands. Norton spent the +mornings in the nursery executing the doctor's orders with clock-like +regularity, while Cleo slept. At noon she quietly entered and took his +place. Her meals were served in the room and she never left it until he +relieved her the next day. The tireless, greenish eyes watched the cradle +with death-like stillness and her keen young ears bent low to catch every +change in the rising and falling of the little breast. Through the long +watches of the night, the quick alert figure with the velvet tread hurried +about the room filling every order with skill and patience. + +At the end of two weeks, the doctor smiled, patted her on the shoulder and +said: + +"You're a great nurse, little girl. You've saved his life." + +Her head was bending low over the cradle, the baby reached up his hand, +caught one of her red curls and lisped faintly: + +"C-l-e-o!" + +Her eyes were shining with tears as she rushed from the room and out on the +lawn to have her cry alone. There could be no question after this of her +position. + +When the new Legislature met in the old Capitol building four months later, +it was in the atmosphere of the crisp clearness that follows the storm. The +thieves and vultures had winged their way to more congenial climes. They +dared not face the investigation of their saturnalia which the restored +white race would make. The wisest among them fled northward on the night of +the election. + +The Governor couldn't run. His term of office had two years more to be +filled. And shivering in his room alone, shunned as a pariah, he awaited +the assault of his triumphant foes. + +And nothing succeeds like success. The brilliant young editor of the _Eagle +and Phoenix_ was the man of the hour. When he entered the hall of the House +of Representatives on the day the Assembly met, pandemonium broke loose. A +shout rose from the floor that fairly shook the old granite pile. Cheer +after cheer rent the air, echoed and re-echoed through the vaulted arches +of the hall. Men overturned their desks and chairs as they rushed pellmell +to seize his hand. They lifted him on their shoulders and carried him in +procession around the Assembly Chamber, through the corridors and around +the circle of the Rotunda, cheering like madmen, and on through the Senate +Chamber where every white Senator joined the procession and returned to the +other end of the Capitol singing "Dixie" and shouting themselves hoarse. + +He was elected Speaker of the House by his party without a dissenting +voice, and the first words that fell from his lips as he ascended the dais, +gazed over the cheering House, and rapped sharply for order, sounded the +death knell to the hopes of the Governor for a compromise with his enemies. +His voice rang clear and cold as the notes of a bugle: + +"The first business before this House, gentlemen, is the impeachment and +removal from office of the alleged Governor of this state!" + +Again the long pent feelings of an outraged people passed all bounds. In +vain the tall figure in the chair rapped for order. He had as well tried to +call a cyclone to order by hammering at it with a gavel. Shout after shout, +cheer after cheer, shout and cheer in apparently unending succession! + +They had not only won a great victory and redeemed a state's honor, but +they had found a leader who dared to lead in the work of cleansing and +rebuilding the old commonwealth. It was ten minutes before order could be +restored. And then with merciless precision the Speaker put in motion the +legal machine that was to crush the life out of the little Scalawag who sat +in his room below and listened to the roar of the storm over his head. + +On the day the historic trial opened before the high tribunal of the +Senate, sitting as judges, with the Chief Justice of the state as presiding +officer, the Governor looked in vain for a friendly face among his +accusers. Now that he was down, even the dogs in his own party whom he had +reared and fed, men who had waxed fat on the spoils he had thrown them, +were barking at his heels. They accused him of being the cause of the +party's downfall. + +The Governor had quickly made up his mind to ask no favors of these +wretches. If the blow should fall, he knew to whom he would appeal that it +might be tempered with mercy. The men of his discredited party were of his +own type. His only chance lay in the generosity of a great foe. + +It would be a bitter thing to beg a favor at the hands of the editor who +had hounded him with his merciless pen from the day he had entered office, +but it would be easier than an appeal to the ungrateful hounds of his own +kennel who had deserted him in his hour of need. + +The Bill of Impeachment which charged him with high crimes and misdemeanors +against the people whose rights he had sworn to defend was drawn by the +Speaker of the House, and it was a terrible document. It would not only +deprive him of his great office, but strip him of citizenship, and send him +from the Capitol a branded man for life. + +The defense proved weak and the terrific assaults of the Impeachment +managers under Norton's leadership resistless. Step by step the remorseless +prosecutors closed in on the doomed culprit. Each day he sat in his place +beside his counsel in the thronged Senate Chamber and heard his judges vote +with practical unanimity "Guilty" on a new count in the Bill of +Impeachment. The Chief Executive of a million people cowered in his seat +while his accusers told and re-told the story of his crimes and the packed +galleries cheered. + +But one clause of the bill remained to be adjudged--the brand his accusers +proposed to put upon his forehead. His final penalty should be the loss of +citizenship. It was more than the Governor could bear. He begged an +adjournment of the High Court for a conference with his attorneys and it +was granted. + +He immediately sought the Speaker, who made no effort to conceal the +contempt in which he held the trembling petitioner. + +"I've come to you, Major Norton," he began falteringly, "in the darkest +hour of my life. I've come because I know that you are a brave and generous +man. I appeal to your generosity. I've made mistakes in my administration. +But I ask you to remember that few men in my place could have done better. +I was set to make bricks without straw. I was told to make water run up +hill and set at naught the law of gravitation. + +"I struck at you personally--yes--but remember my provocation. You made me +the target of your merciless ridicule, wit and invective for two years. It +was more than flesh and blood could bear without a return blow. Put +yourself in my place----" + +"I've tried, Governor," Norton interrupted in kindly tones. "And it's +inconceivable to me that any man born and bred as you have been, among the +best people of the South, a man whose fiery speeches in the Secession +Convention helped to plunge this state into civil war--how you could basely +betray your own flesh and blood in the hour of their sorest need--it's +beyond me! I can't understand it. I've tried to put myself in your place +and I can't." + +The little ferret eyes were dim as he edged toward the tall figure of his +accuser: + +"I'm not asking of you mercy, Major Norton, on the main issue. I understand +the bitterness in the hearts of these men who sit as my judges to-day. I +make no fight to retain the office of Governor, but--major"--his thin voice +broke--"it's too hard to brand me a criminal by depriving me of my +citizenship and the right to vote, and hurl me from the highest office +within the gift of a great people a nameless thing, a man without a +country! Come, sir, even if all you say is true, justice may be tempered +with mercy. Great minds can understand this. You are the representative +to-day of a brave and generous race of men. My life is in ruins--I am at +your feet. I have pride. I had high ambitions----" + +His voice broke, he paused, and then continued in strained tones: + +"I have loved ones to whom this shame will come as a bolt from the clear +sky. They know nothing of politics. They simply love me. This final +ignominy you would heap on my head may be just from your point of view. But +is it necessary? Can it serve any good purpose? Is it not mere wanton +cruelty? + +"Come now, man to man--our masks are off--my day is done. You are young. +The world is yours. This last blow with which you would crush my spirit is +too cruel! Can you afford an act of such wanton cruelty in the hour of your +triumph? A small man could, yes--but you? I appeal to the best that's in +you, to the spark of God that's in every human soul----" + +Norton was deeply touched, far more than he dreamed any word from the man +he hated could ever stir him. The Governor saw his hesitation and pressed +his cause: + +"I might say many things honestly in justification of my course in +politics; but the time has not come. When passions have cooled and we can +look the stirring events of these years squarely in the face--there'll be +two sides to this question, major, as there are two sides to all questions. +I might say to you that when I saw the frightful blunder I had made in +helping to plunge our country into a fatal war, I tried to make good my +mistake and went to the other extreme. I was ambitious, yes, but we are +confronted with millions of ignorant negroes. What can we do with them? +Slavery had an answer. Democracy now must give the true answer or +perish----" + +"That answer will never be to set these negroes up as rulers over white +men!" + +Norton raised his hand and spoke with bitter emphasis. + +"Even so, in a Democracy with equality as the one fundamental law of life, +what are you going to do with them? I could plead with you that in every +act of my ill-fated administration I was honestly, in the fear of God, +trying to meet and solve this apparently insoluble problem. You are now in +power. What are you going to do with these negroes?" + +"Send them back to the plow first," was the quick answer. + +"All right; when they have bought those farms and their sons and daughters +are rich and cultured--what then?" + +"We'll answer that question, Governor, when the time comes." + +"Remember, major, that you have no answer to it now, and in the pride of +your heart to-day let me suggest that you deal charitably with one who +honestly tried to find the answer when called to rule over both races. + +"I have failed, I grant you. I have made mistakes, I grant you. Won't you +accept my humility in this hour in part atonement for my mistakes? I stand +alone before you, my bitterest and most powerful enemy, because I believe +in the strength and nobility of your character. You are my only hope. I am +before you, broken, crushed, humiliated, deserted, friendless--at your +mercy!" + +The last appeal stirred the soul of the young editor to its depths. He was +surprised and shocked to find the man he had so long ridiculed and hated +so thoroughly, human and appealing in his hour of need. + +He spoke with a kindly deliberation he had never dreamed it possible to use +with this man. + +"I'm sorry for you, Governor. Your appeal is to me a very eloquent one. It +has opened a new view of your character. I can never again say bitter, +merciless things about you in my paper. You have disarmed me. But as the +leader of my race, in the crisis through which we are passing, I feel that +a great responsibility has been placed on me. Now that we have met, with +bared souls in this solemn hour, let me say that I have learned to like you +better than I ever thought it possible. But I am to-day a judge who must +make his decision, remembering that the lives and liberties of all the +people are in his keeping when he pronounces the sentence of law. A judge +has no right to spare a man who has taken human life because he is sorry +for the prisoner. I have no right, as a leader, to suspend this penalty on +you. Your act in destroying the civil law, arresting men without warrant +and holding them by military force without bail or date of trial, was, in +my judgment, a crime of the highest rank, not merely against me--one +individual whom you happened to hate--but against every man, woman and +child in the state. Unless that crime is punished another man, as daring in +high office, may repeat it in the future. I hold in my hands to-day not +only the lives and liberties of the people you have wronged, but of +generations yet unborn. Now that I have heard you, personally I am sorry +for you, but the law must take its course." + +"You will deprive me of my citizenship?" he asked pathetically. + +"It is my solemn duty. And when it is done no Governor will ever again dare +to repeat your crime." + +Norton turned away and the Governor laid his trembling hand on his arm: + +"Your decision is absolutely final, Major Norton?" + +"Absolutely," was the firm reply. + +The Governor's shoulders drooped lower as he shuffled from the room and his +eyes were fixed on space as he pushed his way through the hostile crowds +that filled the corridors of the Capitol. + +The Court immediately reassembled and the Speaker rose to make his motion +for a vote on the last count in the bill depriving the Chief Executive of +the state of his citizenship. + +The silence was intense. The crowds that packed the lobby, the galleries, +and every inch of the floor of the Senate Chamber expected a fierce speech +of impassioned eloquence from their idolized leader. Every neck was craned +and breath held for his first ringing words. + +To their surprise he began speaking in a low voice choking with emotion and +merely demanded a vote of the Senate on the final clause of the bill, and +the brown eyes of the tall orator had a suspicious look of moisture in +their depths as they rested on the forlorn figure of the little Scalawag. +The crowd caught the spirit of solemnity and of pathos from the speaker's +voice and the vote was taken amid a silence that was painful. + +When the Clerk announced the result and the Chief Justice of the state +declared the office of Governor vacant there was no demonstration. As the +Lieutenant-Governor ascended the dais and took the oath of office, the +Scalawag rose and staggered through the crowd that opened with a look of +awed pity as he passed from the chamber. + +Norton stepped to the window behind the President of the Senate and watched +the pathetic figure shuffle down the steps of the Capitol and slowly walk +from the grounds. The sun was shining in the radiant splendor of early +spring. The first flowers were blooming in the hedges by the walk and birds +were chirping, chattering and singing from every tree and shrub. A squirrel +started across the path in front of the drooping figure, stopped, cocked +his little head to one side, looked up and ran to cover. But the man with +drooping shoulders saw nothing. His dim eyes were peering into the shrouded +future. + +Norton was deeply moved. + +"The judgment of posterity may deal kindlier with his life!" he exclaimed. +"Who knows? A politician, a trimmer and a time-server--yes, so we all are +down in our cowardly hearts--I'm sorry that it had to be!" + +He was thinking of a skeleton in his own closet that grinned at him +sometimes now when he least expected it. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + + +The night was a memorable one in Norton's life. The members of the +Legislature and the leaders of his party from every quarter of the state +gave a banquet in his honor in the Hall of the House of Representatives. +Eight hundred guests, the flower and chivalry of the Commonwealth, sat down +at the eighty tables improvised for the occasion. + +Fifty leading men were guests of honor and vied with one another in +acclaiming the brilliant young Speaker the coming statesman of the Nation. +His name was linked with Hamilton, Jefferson, Webster, Clay and Calhoun. He +was the youngest man who had ever been elected Speaker of a Legislative +Assembly in American history and a dazzling career was predicted. + +Even the newly installed Chief Executive, a hold-over from the defeated +party, asked to be given a seat and in a glowing tribute to Norton hailed +him as the next Governor of the state. + +He had scarcely uttered the words when all the guests leaped to their feet +by a common impulse, raised their glasses and shouted: + +"To our next Governor, Daniel Norton!" + +The cheers which followed were not arranged, they were the spontaneous +outburst of genuine admiration by men and women who knew the man and +believed in his power and his worth. + +Norton flushed and his eyes dropped. His daring mind had already leaped the +years. The Governor's chair meant the next step--a seat in the Senate +Chamber of the United States. A quarter of a century and the South would +once more come into her own. He would then be but forty-nine years old. He +would have as good a chance for the Presidency as any other man. His +fathers had been of the stock that created the Nation. His +great-grandfather fought with Washington and Lafayette. His head was +swimming with its visions, while the great Hall rang with his name. + +While the tumult was still at its highest, he lifted his eyes for a moment +over the heads of the throng at the tables below the platform on which the +guests of honor were seated, and his heart suddenly stood still. + +Cleo was standing in the door of the Hall, a haunted look in her dilated +eyes, watching her chance to beckon to him unseen by the crowd. + +He stared at her a moment in blank amazement and turned pale. Something had +happened at his home, and by the expression on her face the message she +bore was one he would never forget. + +As he sat staring blankly, as at a sudden apparition, she disappeared in +the crowd at the door. He looked in vain for her reappearance and was +waiting an opportune moment to leave, when a waiter slipped through the +mass of palms and flowers banked behind his chair by his admirers and +thrust a crumpled note into his hand. + +"The girl said it was important, sir," he explained. + +Norton opened the message and held it under the banquet table as he +hurriedly read in Cleo's hand: + +"It's found out--she's raving. The doctor is there. I must see you quick." + + * * * * * + +He whispered to the chairman that a message had just been received +announcing the illness of his wife, but he hoped to be able to return in a +few minutes. + +It was known that his wife was an invalid and had often been stricken with +violent attacks of hysteria, and so the banquet proceeded without +interruption. The band was asked to play a stirring piece and he slipped +out as the opening strains burst over the chattering, gay crowd. + +As his tall figure rose from the seat of honor he gazed for an instant over +the sparkling scene, and for the first time in his life knew the meaning of +the word fear. A sickening horror swept his soul and the fire died from +eyes that had a moment before blazed with visions of ambition. He felt the +earth crumbling beneath his feet. He hoped for a way out, but from the +moment he saw Cleo beckoning him over the heads of his guests he knew that +Death had called him in the hour of his triumph. + +He felt his way blindly through the crowd and pushed roughly past a hundred +hands extended to congratulate him. He walked by instinct. He couldn't see. +The mists of eternity seemed suddenly to have swept him beyond the range of +time and sense. + +In the hall he stumbled against Cleo and looked at her in a dazed way. + +"Get your hat," she whispered. + +He returned to the cloakroom, got his hat and hurried back in the same dull +stupor. + +"Come down stairs into the Square," she said quickly. + +He followed her without a word, and when they reached the shadows of an oak +below the windows of the Hall, he suddenly roused himself, turned on her +fiercely and demanded: + +"Well, what's happened?" + +The girl was calm now, away from the crowd and guarded by the friendly +night. Her words were cool and touched with the least suggestion of +bravado. She looked at him steadily: + +"I reckon you know----" + +"You mean----" He felt for the tree trunk as if dizzy. + +"Yes. She has found out----" + +"What--how--when?" His words came in gasps of fear. + +"About us----" + +"How?" + +"It was mammy. She was wild with jealousy that I had taken her place and +was allowed to sleep in the house. She got to slipping to the nursery at +night and watching me. She must have seen me one night at your room door +and told her to get rid of me." + +The man suddenly gripped the girl's shoulders, swung her face toward him +and gazed into her shifting eyes, while his breath came in labored gasps: + +"You little yellow devil! Mammy never told that to my wife and you know it; +she would have told me and I would have sent you away. She knows that story +would kill my baby's mother and she'd have cut the tongue out of her own +head sooner than betray me. She has always loved me as her own child--she'd +fight for me and die for me and stand for me against every man, woman and +child on earth!" + +"Well, she told her," the girl sullenly repeated. + +"Told her what?" he asked. + +"That I was hanging around your room." She paused. + +"Well, go on----" + +"Miss Jean asked me if it was true. I saw that we were caught and I just +confessed the whole thing----" + +The man sprang at her throat, paused, and his hands fell limp by his side. +He gazed at her a moment, and grasped her wrists with cruel force: + +"Yes, that's it, you little fiend--you confessed! You were so afraid you +might not be forced to confess that you went out of your way to tell it. +Two months ago I came to my senses and put you out of my life. You +deliberately tried to commit murder to bring me back. You knew that +confession would kill my wife as surely as if you had plunged a knife into +her heart. You know that she has the mind of an innocent child--that she +can think no evil of any one. You've tried to kill her on purpose, +willfully, maliciously, deliberately--and if she dies----" + +Norton's voice choked into an inarticulate groan and the girl smiled +calmly. + +The band in the Hall over their heads ended the music in a triumphant crash +and he listened mechanically to the chairman while he announced the +temporary absence of the guest of honor: + +"And while he is out of the Hall for a few minutes, ladies and gentlemen," +he added facetiously, "we can say a lot of fine things behind his back we +would have blushed to tell him to his face----" + +Another burst of applause and the hum and chatter and laughter came through +the open window. + +With a cry of anguish, the man turned again on the girl: + +"Why do you stand there grinning at me? Why did you do this fiendish thing? +What have you to say?" + +"Nothing"--there was a ring of exultation in her voice--"I did it because I +had to." + +Norton leaned against the oak, placed his hands on his temples and groaned: + +"Oh, my God! It's a nightmare----" + +Suddenly he asked: + +"What did she do when you told her?" + +The girl answered with indifference: + +"Screamed, called me a liar, jumped on me like a wild-cat, dug her nails in +my neck and went into hysterics." + +"And you?" + +"I picked her up, carried her to bed and sent for the doctor. As quick as +he came I ran here to tell you." + +The speaker upstairs was again announcing his name as the next Governor and +Senator and the crowd were cheering. He felt the waves of Death roll over +and engulf him. His knees grew weak and in spite of all effort he sank to a +stone that lay against the gnarled trunk of the tree. + +"She may be dead now," he said to himself in a dazed whisper. + +"I don't think so!" the soft voice purred with the slightest suggestion of +a sneer. She bit her lips and actually laughed. It was more than he could +bear. With a sudden leap his hands closed on her throat and forced her +trembling form back into the shadows. + +"May--God--hurl--you--into--everlasting--hell--for--this!" he cried in +anguish and his grip suddenly relaxed. + +The girl had not struggled. Her own hand had simply been raised +instinctively and grasped his. + +"What shall I do?" she asked. + +"Get out of my sight before I kill you!" + +"I'm not afraid." + +The calm accents maddened him to uncontrollable fury: + +"And if you ever put your foot into my house again or cross my path, I'll +not be responsible for what happens!" + +His face was livid and his fists closed with an unconscious strength that +cut the blood from the palms of his hands. + +"I'm not afraid!" she repeated, her voice rising with clear assurance, a +strange smile playing about her full lips. + +"Go!" he said fiercely. + +The girl turned without a word and walked into the bright light that +streamed from the windows of the banquet hall, paused and looked at him, +the white rows of teeth shining with a smile: + +"But I'll see you again!" + +And then, with shouts of triumph mocking his soul, his shoulders drooped, +drunk with the stupor and pain of shame, he walked blindly through the +night to the Judgment Bar of Life--a home where a sobbing wife waited for +his coming. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE JUDGMENT BAR + + +He paused at the gate. His legs for the moment simply refused to go any +further. A light was burning in his wife's room. Its radiance streaming +against the white fluted columns threw their shadows far out on the lawn. + +The fine old house seemed to slowly melt in the starlight into a solemn +Court of Justice set on the highest hill of the world. Its white boards +were hewn slabs of gleaming marble, its quaint old Colonial door the grand +entrance to the Judgment Hall of Life and Death. And the judge who sat on +the high dais was not the blind figure of tradition, but a blushing little +bride he had led to God's altar four years ago. Her blue eyes were burning +into the depths of his trembling soul. + +His hand gripped the post and he tried to pull himself together, and look +the ugly situation in the face. But it was too sudden. He had repented and +was living a clean life, and the shock was so unexpected, its coming so +unforeseen, the stroke at a moment when his spirits had climbed so high, +the fall was too great. He lay a mangled heap at the foot of a precipice +and could as yet only stretch out lame hands and feel in the dark. He could +see nothing clearly. + +A curious thing flashed through his benumbed mind as his gaze fascinated +by the light in her room. She had not yet sent for him. He might have +passed a messenger on the other side of the street, or he may have gone to +the Capitol by another way, yet he was somehow morally sure that no word +had as yet been sent. It could mean but one thing--that his wife had +utterly refused to believe the girl's story. This would make the only sane +thing to do almost impossible. If he could humbly confess the truth and beg +for her forgiveness, the cloud might be lifted and her life saved. + +But if she blindly refused to admit the possibility of such a sin, the +crisis was one that sickened him. He would either be compelled to risk her +life with the shock of confession, or lie to her with a shameless passion +that would convince her of his innocence. + +Could he do this? It was doubtful. He had never been a good liar. He had +taken many a whipping as a boy sooner than lie. He had always dared to tell +the truth and had felt a cruel free joy somehow in its consequence. He had +been reserved and silent in his youth when he had sowed his wild oats +before his marriage. He had never been forced to lie about that. No +questions had been asked. He had kept his own counsel and that side of his +life was a sealed book even to his most intimate friends. + +He had never been under the influence of liquor and knew how to be a good +fellow without being a fool. The first big lie of his life he was forced to +act rather than speak when Cleo had entered his life. This lie had not yet +shaped itself into words. And he doubted his ability to carry it off +successfully. To speak the truth simply and plainly had become an ingrained +habit. He trembled at the possibility of being compelled to deliberately +and continuously lie to his wife. If he could only tell her the truth--tell +her the hours of anguish he had passed in struggling against the Beast that +at last had won the fight--if he could only make her feel to-night the +pain, the shame, the loathing, the rage that filled his soul, she must +forgive. + +But would she listen? Had the child-mind that had never faced realities the +power to adjust itself to such a tragedy and see life in its wider +relations of sin and sorrow, of repentance and struggle to the achievement +of character? There was but one answer: + +"No. It would kill her. She can't understand----" + +And then despair gripped him, his eyes grew dim and he couldn't think. He +leaned heavily on the gate in a sickening stupor from which his mind slowly +emerged and his fancy began to play pranks with an imagination suddenly +quickened by suffering into extraordinary activity. + +A katydid was crying somewhere over his head and a whip-poor-will broke the +stillness with his weird call that seemed to rise from the ground under his +feet. He was a boy again roaming the fields where stalwart slaves were +working his father's plantation. It was just such a day in early spring +when he had persuaded Andy to run away with him and go swimming in Buffalo +creek. He had caught cold and they both got a whipping that night. He +remembered how Andy had yelled so loud his father had stopped. And how he +had set his little jaws together, refused to cry and received the worst +whipping of his life. He could hear Andy now as he slipped up to him +afterward, grinning and chuckling and whispered: + +"Lordy, man, why didn't ye holler? You don't know how ter take er whippin' +nohow. He nebber hurt me no mo' dan a flea bitin'!" + +And then his mind leaped the years. Cleo was in his arms that night at old +Peeler's and he was stroking her hair as he would have smoothed the fur of +a frightened kitten. That strange impulse was the beginning--he could see +it now--and it had grown with daily contact, until the contagious animal +magnetism of her nearness became resistless. And now he stood a shivering +coward in the dark, afraid to enter his own house and look his wife in the +face. + +Yes, he was a coward. He acknowledged it with a grim smile--a coward! This +boastful, high-strung, self-poised leader of men! He drew his tall figure +erect and a bitter laugh broke from his lips. He who had led men to death +on battlefields with a smile and a shout! He who had cried in anguish the +day Lee surrendered! He who, in defeat, still indomitable and unconquered, +had fired the souls of his ruined people and led them through riot and +revolution again to victory!--He was a coward now and he knew it, as he +stood there alone in the stillness of the Southern night and looked himself +squarely in the face. + +His heart gave a throb of pity as he recalled the scenes during the war, +when deserters and cowards had been led out in the gray dawn and shot to +death for something they couldn't help. + +It must be a dream. He couldn't realize the truth--grim, hideous and +unthinkable. He had won every fight as the leader of his race against +overwhelming odds. He had subdued the desperate and lawless among his own +men until his word was law. He had rallied the shattered forces of a +defeated people and inspired them with enthusiasm. He had overturned the +negroid government in the state though backed by a million bayonets in the +hands of veteran battle-tried soldiers. He had crushed the man who led +these forces, impeached and removed him from office, and hurled him into +merited oblivion, a man without a country. He had made himself the central +figure of the commonwealth. In the dawn of manhood he had lived already a +man's full life. A conquered world at his feet, and yet a little yellow, +red-haired girl of the race he despised, in the supreme hour of triumph had +laid his life in ruins. He had conquered all save the Beast within and he +must die for it--it was only a morbid fancy, yes--yet he felt the chill in +his soul. + +How long he had stood there doubting, fearing, dreaming, he could form no +idea. He was suddenly roused to the consciousness of his position by the +doctor who was hurrying from the house. There was genuine surprise in his +voice as he spoke slowly and in a very low tone. + +Dr. Williams had the habit of slow, quiet speech. He was a privileged +character in the town and the state, with the record of a half century of +practice. A man of wide reading and genuine culture, he concealed a big +heart beneath a brutal way of expressing his thoughts. He said exactly what +he meant with a distinctness that was all the more startling because of his +curious habit of speaking harsh things in tones so softly modulated that +his hearers frequently asked him to repeat his words. + +"I had just started to the banquet hall with a message for you," he said +slowly. + +"Yes--yes," Norton answered vaguely. + +"But I see you've come--Cleo told you?" + +"Yes--she came to the hall----" + +The doctor's slender fingers touched his fine gray beard. + +"Really! She entered that hall to-night? Well, it's a funny world, this. We +spend our time and energy fighting the negro race in front and leave our +back doors open for their women and children to enter and master our life. +I congratulate you as a politician on your victory----" + +Norton lifted his hand as if to ward off a blow: + +"Please! not to-night!" + +The doctor caught the look of agony in the haggard face and suddenly +extended his hand: + +"I wasn't thinking of your personal history, my boy. I was--I was thinking +for a moment of the folly of a people--forgive me--I know you need help +to-night. You must pull yourself together before you go in there----" + +"Yes, I know!" Norton faltered. "You have seen my wife and talked with +her--you can see things clearer than I--tell me what to do!" + +"There's but one thing you can do," was the gentle answer. "Lie to +her--lie--and stick to it. Lie skillfully, carefully, deliberately, and +with such sincerity and conviction she's got to believe you. She wants to +believe you, of course. I know you are guilty----" + +"Let me tell you, doctor----" + +"No, you needn't. It's an old story. The more powerful the man the easier +his conquest when once the female animal of Cleo's race has her chance. +It's enough to make the devil laugh to hear your politicians howl against +social and political equality while this cancer is eating the heart out of +our society. It makes me sick! And she went to your banquet hall to-night! +I'll laugh over it when I'm blue----" + +The doctor paused, laughed softly, and continued: + +"Now listen, Norton. Your wife can't live unless she wills to live. I've +told you this before. The moment she gives up, she dies. It's the iron will +inside her frail body that holds the spirit. If she knows the truth, she +can't face it. She is narrow, conventional, and can't readjust herself----" + +"But doctor, can't she be made to realize that this thing is here a living +fact which the white woman of the South must face? These hundreds of +thousands of a mixed race are not accidents. She must know that this racial +degradation is not merely a thing of to-day, but the heritage of two +hundred years of sin and sorrow!" + +"The older women know this--yes--but not our younger generation, who have +been reared in the fierce defense of slavery we were forced to make before +the war. These things were not to be talked about. No girl reared as your +wife can conceive of the possibility of a decent man falling so low. I warn +you. You can't let her know the truth--and so the only thing you can do is +to lie and stick to it. It's queer advice for a doctor to give an honorable +man, perhaps. But life is full of paradoxes. My advice is medicine. Our +best medicines are the most deadly poisons in nature. I've saved many a +man's life by their use. This happens to be one of the cases where I +prescribe a poison. Put the responsibility on me if you like. My shoulders +are broad. I live close to Nature and the prattle of fools never disturbs +me." + +"Is she still hysterical?" Norton asked. + +"No. That's the strange part of it--the thing that frightens me. That's why +I haven't left her side since I was called. Her outburst wasn't hysteria in +the first place. It was rage--the blind unreasoning fury of the woman who +sees her possible rival and wishes to kill her. You'll find her very quiet. +There's a queer, still look in her eyes I don't like. It's the calm before +the storm--a storm that may leave death in its trail----" + +"Couldn't I deny it at first," Norton interrupted, "and then make my plea +to her in an appeal for mercy on an imaginary case? God only knows what +I've gone through--the fight I made----" + +"Yes, I know, my boy, with that young animal playing at your feet in +physical touch with your soul and body in the intimacies of your home, you +never had a chance. But you can't make your wife see this. An angel from +heaven, with tongue of divine eloquence, can make no impression on her if +she once believes you guilty. Don't tell her--and may God have mercy on +your soul to-night!" + +With a pressure on the younger man's arm, the straight white figure of the +old doctor passed through the gate. + +Norton walked quickly to the steps of the spacious, pillared porch, stopped +and turned again into the lawn. He sat down on a rustic seat and tried +desperately to work out what he would say, and always the gray mist of a +fog of despair closed in. + +For the first time in his life he was confronted squarely with the fact +that the whole structure of society is enfolded in a network of +interminable lies. His wife had been reared from the cradle in the +atmosphere of beauty and innocence. She believed in the innocence of her +father, her brothers, and every man who moved in her circle. Above all, she +believed in the innocence of her husband. The fact that the negro race had +for two hundred years been stirring the baser passions of her men--that +this degradation of the higher race had been bred into the bone and sinew +of succeeding generations--had never occurred to her childlike mind. How +hopeless the task to tell her now when the tragic story must shatter her +own ideals! + +The very thought brought a cry of agony to his lips: + +"God in heaven--what can I do?" + +He looked helplessly at the stream of light from her window and turned +again toward the cool, friendly darkness. + +The night was one of marvellous stillness. The band was playing again in +his banquet hall at the Capitol. So still was the night he could hear +distinctly the softer strains of the stringed instruments, faint, sweet and +thrilling, as they floated over the sleepy old town. A mocking-bird above +him wakened by the call of melody answered, tenderly at first, and then, +with the crash of cornet and drum, his voice swelled into a flood of +wonderful song. + +With a groan of pain, Norton rose and walked rapidly into the house. His +bird-dog lay on the mat outside the door and sprang forward with a joyous +whine to meet him. + +He stooped and drew the shaggy setter's head against his hot cheek. + +"I need a friend, to-night, Don, old boy!" he said tenderly. And Don +answered with an eloquent wag of his tail and a gentle nudge of his nose. + +"If you were only my judge!--Bah, what's the use----" + +He drew his drooping shoulders erect and entered his wife's room. Her eyes +were shining with peculiar brightness, but otherwise she seemed unusually +calm. She began speaking with quick nervous energy: + +"Dr. Williams told you?" + +"Yes, and I came at once." He answered with an unusually firm and clear +note of strength. His whole being was keyed now to a high tension of alert +decision. He saw that the doctor's way was the only one. + +"I don't ask you, Dan," she went on with increasing excitement and a touch +of scorn in her voice--"I don't ask you to deny this lie. What I want to +know is the motive the little devil had in saying such a thing to me. +Mammy, in her jealousy, merely told me she was hanging around your room too +often. I asked her if it were true. She looked at me a moment and burst +into her lying 'confession.' I could have killed her. I did try to tear her +green eyes out. I knew that you hated her and tried to put her out of the +house, and I thought she had taken this way to get even with you--but it +doesn't seem possible. And then I thought the Governor might have taken +this way to strike you. He knows old Peeler, the low miserable scoundrel, +who is her father. Do you think it possible?" + +"I--don't--know," he stammered, moistening his lips and turning away. + +"Yet it's possible"--she insisted. + +He saw the chance to confirm this impression by a cheap lie--to invent a +story of old Peeler's intimacy with the Governor, of his attempt to marry +Lucy, of his hatred of the policy of the paper, his fear of the Klan and +of his treacherous, cowardly nature--yet the lie seemed so cheap and +contemptible his lips refused to move. If he were going to carry out the +doctor's orders here was his chance. He struggled to speak and couldn't. +The habit of a life and the fibre of character were too strong. So he did +the fatal thing at the moment of crisis. + +"I don't think that possible," he said. + +"Why not?" + +"Well, you see, since I rescued old Peeler that night from those boys, he +has been so abjectly grateful I've had to put him out of my office once or +twice, and I'm sure he voted for me for the Legislature against his own +party." + +"He voted for you?" she asked in surprise. + +"He told me so. He may have lied, of course, but I don't think he did." + +"Then what could have been her motive?" + +His teeth were chattering in spite of a desperate effort to think clearly +and speak intelligently. He stared at a picture on the wall and made no +reply. + +"Say something--answer my question!" his wife cried excitedly. + +"I have answered, my dear. I said I don't know. I'm stunned by the whole +thing." + +"You are _stunned_?" + +"Yes----" + +"Stunned? You, a strong, innocent man, stunned by a weak contemptible lie +like this from the lips of such a girl--what do you mean?" + +"Why, that I was naturally shocked to be called out of a banquet at such a +moment by such an accusation. She actually beckoned to me from the door +over the heads of the guests----" + +The little blue eyes suddenly narrowed and the thin lips grew hard: + +"Cleo called you from the door?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"You left the hall to see her there?" + +"No, I went down stairs." + +"Into the Capitol Square?" + +"Yes. I couldn't well talk to her before all those guests----" + +"Why not?" + +The question came like the crack of a pistol. Her voice was high, cold, +metallic, ringing. He saw, when too late, that he had made a fatal mistake. +He stammered, reddened and then turned pale: + +"Why--why--naturally----" + +"If you are innocent--why not?" + +He made a desperate effort to find a place of safety: + +"I thought it wise to go down stairs where I could talk without +interruption----" + +"You--were--afraid," she was speaking each word now with cold, deadly +deliberation, "to take-a-message-from-your-servant-at-the-door-of-a-public +banquet-hall----" her words quickened--"then you suspected her possible +message! There _was_ something between you----" + +"My dear, I beg of you----" + +He turned his head away with a weary gesture. + +She sprang from the side of the bed, leaped to his side, seized him by both +arms and fairly screamed in his face: + +"Look at me, Dan!" + +He turned quickly, his haggard eyes stared into hers, and she looked with +slowly dawning horror. + +"Oh, my God!" she shrieked. "It's true--it's true--it's true!" + +She sprang back with a shiver of loathing, covered her face with her hands +and staggered to her bed, sobbing hysterically: + +"It's true--it's true--it's true! Have mercy, Lord!--it's true--it's true!" +She fell face downward, her frail figure quivering like a leaf in a storm. + +He rushed to her side, crying in terror: + +"It's not true--it's not true, my dear! Don't believe it. I swear it's a +lie--it's a lie--I tell you!" + +She was crying in sobs of utter anguish. + +He bent low: + +"It's not true, dearest! It's not true, I tell you. You mustn't believe it. +You can't believe it when I swear to you that it's a lie----" + +His head gently touched her slender shoulder. + +She flinched as if scorched by a flame, sprang to her feet, and faced him +with blazing eyes: + +"Don't--you--dare--touch--me----" + +"My dear," he pleaded. + +"Don't speak to me again!" + +"Please----" + +"Get out of this room!" + +He stood rooted to the spot in helpless stupor and she threw her little +body against his with sudden fury, pushing him toward the door. "Get out, I +say!" + +He staggered back helplessly and awkwardly amazed at her strength as she +pushed him into the hall. She stood a moment towering in the white frame of +the door, the picture of an avenging angel to his tormented soul. Through +teeth chattering with hysterical emotion she cried: + +"Go, you leper! And don't you ever dare to cross this door-sill again--not +even to look on my dead face!" + +"For God's sake, don't!" he gasped, staggering toward her. + +But the door slammed in his face and the bolt suddenly shot into its place. + +He knocked gently and received no answer. An ominous stillness reigned +within. He called again and again without response. He waited patiently for +half an hour and knocked once more. An agony of fear chilled him. She might +be dead. He knelt, pressed his ear close to the keyhole and heard a long, +low, pitiful sob from her bed. + +"Thank God----" + +He rose with sudden determination. She couldn't be left like that. He would +call the doctor back at once, and, what was better still, he would bring +her mother, a wise gray-haired little saint, who rarely volunteered advice +in her daughter's affairs. The door would fly open at her soft command. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AN OLD STORY + + +The doctor's house lay beyond the Capitol and in his haste Norton forgot +that a banquet was being held in his honor. He found himself suddenly face +to face with the first of the departing guests as they began to pour +through the gates of the Square. + +He couldn't face these people, turned in his tracks, walked back to the +next block and hurried into an obscure side street by which he could avoid +them. + +The doctor had not retired. He was seated on his porch quietly smoking, as +if he were expecting the call. + +"Well, you've bungled it, I see," he said simply, as he rose and seized his +hat. + +"Yes, she guessed the truth----" + +"Guessed?--hardly." The white head with its shining hair slowly wagged. +"She read it in those haggard eyes. Funny what poor liars your people have +always been! If your father hadn't been fool enough to tell the truth with +such habitual persistence, that office of his would never have been burned +during the war. It's a funny world. It's the fun of it that keeps us alive, +after all." + +"Do the best you can for me, doctor," he interrupted. "I'm going for her +mother." + +"All right," was the cheery answer, "bring her at once. She's a better +doctor than I to-night." + +Norton walked swiftly toward a vine-clad cottage that stood beside Governor +Carteret's place. It sat far back on the lawn that was once a part of the +original estate twenty odd years ago. The old Governor during his last +administration had built it for Robert Carteret, a handsome, wayward son, +whom pretty Jennie Pryor had married. It had been a runaway love match. The +old man had not opposed it because of any objection to the charming girl +the boy had fallen in love with. He knew that Robert was a wild, +headstrong, young scapegrace unfit to be the husband of any woman. + +But apparently marriage settled him. For two years after Jean's birth he +lived a decent life and then slipped again into hopelessly dissolute +habits. When Jean was seven years old he was found dead one night under +peculiar circumstances that were never made public. The sweet little woman +who had braved the world's wrath to marry him had never complained, and she +alone (with one other) knew the true secret of his death. + +She had always been supported by a generous allowance from the old Governor +and in his last will the vigorous octogenarian had made her his sole heir. + +Norton had loved this quiet, patient little mother with a great tenderness +since the day of his marriage to her daughter. He had never found her +wanting in sympathy or helpfulness. She rarely left her cottage, but many a +time he had gone to her with his troubles and came away with a light heart +and a clearer insight into the duty that called. Her love and faith in him +was one of the big things in life. In every dream of achievement that had +fired his imagination during the stirring days of the past months he had +always seen her face smiling with pride and love. + +It was a bitter task to confess his shame to her--this tender, gracious, +uncomplaining saint, to whom he had always been a hero. He paused a moment +with his hand on the bell of the cottage, and finally rang. + +Standing before her with bowed head he told in a few stammering words the +story of his sin and the sorrow that had overwhelmed him. + +"I swear to you that for the past two months my life has been clean and God +alone knows the anguish of remorse I have suffered. You'll help me, +mother?" he asked pathetically. + +"Yes, my son," she answered simply. + +"You don't hate me?"--the question ended with a catch in his voice that +made it almost inaudible. + +She lifted her white hands to his cheeks, drew the tall form down gently +and pressed his lips: + +"No, my son, I've lived too long. I leave judgment now to God. The unshed +tears I see in your eyes are enough for me." + +"I must see her to-night, mother. Make her see me. I can't endure this." + +"She will see you when I have talked with her," was the slow reply as if to +herself. "I am going to tell her something that I hoped to carry to the +grave. But the time has come and she must know." + +The doctor was strolling on the lawn when they arrived. + +"She didn't wish to see me, my boy," he said with a look of sympathy. "And +I thought it best to humor her. Send for me again if you wish, but I think +the mother is best to-night." Without further words he tipped his hat with +a fine old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Carteret and hurried home. + +At the sound of the mother's voice the door was opened, two frail arms +slipped around her neck and a baby was sobbing again on her breast. The +white slender hands tenderly stroked the blonde hair, lips bent low and +kissed the shining head and a cheek rested there while sob after sob shook +the little body. The wise mother spoke no words save the sign language of +love and tenderness, the slow pressure to her heart of the sobbing figure, +kisses, kisses, kisses on her hair and the soothing touch of her hand. + +A long time without a word they thus clung to each other. The sobs ceased +at last. + +"Now tell me, darling, how can I help you?" the gentle voice said. + +"Oh, mamma, I just want to go home to you again and die--that's all." + +"You'd be happier, you think, with me, dear?" + +"Yes--it's clean and pure there. I can't live in this house--the very air I +breathe is foul!" + +"But you can't leave Dan, my child. Your life and his are one in your babe. +God has made this so." + +"He is nothing to me now. He doesn't exist. I don't come of his breed of +men. My father's handsome face--my grandfather's record as the greatest +Governor of the state--are not merely memories to me. I'll return to my +own. And I'll take my child with me. I'll go back where the air is clean, +where men have always been men, not beasts----" + +The mother rose quietly and took from the mantel the dainty morocco-covered +copy of the Bible she had given her daughter the day she left home. She +turned its first, pages, put her finger on the sixteenth chapter of the +Book of Genesis, and turned down a leaf: + +"I want you to read this chapter of Genesis which I have marked when you +are yourself, and remember that the sympathy of the world has always been +with the outcast Hagar, and not with the foolish wife who brought a +beautiful girl into her husband's house and then repented of her folly." + +"But a negress! oh, my God, the horror, the shame, the humiliation he has +put on me! I've asked myself a hundred times why I lived a moment, why I +didn't leap from that window and dash my brain out on the ground below--the +beast--the beast!" + +"Yes, dear, but when you are older you will know that all men are beasts." + +"Mother!" + +"Yes, all men who are worth while----" + +"How can you say that," the daughter cried with scorn, "and remember my +father and grandfather? No man passes the old Governor to-day without +lifting his hat, and I've seen you sit for hours with my father's picture +in your lap crying over it----" + +"Yes, dear," was the sweet answer, "these hearts of ours play strange +pranks with us sometimes. You must see Dan to-night and forgive. He will +crawl on his hands and knees to your feet and beg it." + +"I'll never see him or speak to him again!" + +"You must--dear." + +"Never!" + +The mother sat down on the lounge and drew the quivering figure close. Her +face was hidden from the daughter's view when she began to speak and so +the death-like pallor was not noticed. The voice was held even by a firm +will: + +"I hoped God might let me go without my having to tell you what I must say +now, dearest"--in spite of her effort there was a break and silence. + +The little hand sought the mother's: + +"You know you can tell me anything, mamma, dear." + +"Your father, my child, was not a great man. He died in what should have +been the glory of young manhood. He achieved nothing. He was just the +spoiled child of a greater man, a child who inherited his father's +brilliant mind, fiery temper and willful passions. I loved him from the +moment we met and in spite of all I know that he loved me with the +strongest, purest love he was capable of giving to any woman. And yet, +dearest, I dare not tell you all I discovered of his wild, reckless life. +The vilest trait of his character was transmitted straight from sire to +son--he would never ask forgiveness of any human being for anything he had +done--that is your grandfather's boast to-day. The old Governor, my child, +was the owner of more than a thousand slaves on his two great plantations. +Many of them he didn't know personally--unless they were beautiful +girls----" + +"Oh, mother, darling, have mercy on me!"--the little fingers tightened +their grip. But the mother's even voice went on remorselessly: + +"Cleo's mother was one of his slaves. You may depend upon it, your +grandfather knows her history. You must remember what slavery meant, dear. +It put into the hands of a master an awful power. It was not necessary for +strong men to use this power. The humble daughters of slaves vied with one +another to win his favor. Your grandfather was a man of great intellect, of +powerful physique, of fierce, ungovernable passions----" + +"But my father"--gasped the girl wife. + +"Was a handsome, spoiled child, the kind of man for whom women have always +died--but he never possessed the strength to keep himself within the bounds +of decency as did the older man----" + +"What do you mean?" the daughter broke in desperately. + +"There has always been a secret about your father's death"--the mother +paused and drew a deep breath. "I made the secret. I told the story to save +him from shame in death. He died in the cabin of a mulatto girl he had +played with as a boy--and--the thing that's hardest for me to tell you, +dearest, is that I knew exactly where to find him when he had not returned +at two o'clock that morning----" + +The white head sank lower and rested on the shoulder of the frail young +wife, who slipped her arms about the form of her mother, and neither spoke +for a long while. + +At last the mother began in quiet tones: + +"And this was one of the reasons, my child, why slavery was doomed. The war +was a wicked and awful tragedy. The white motherhood of the South would +have crushed slavery. Before the war began we had six hundred thousand +mulattoes--six hundred thousand reasons why slavery had to die!" + +The fire flashed in the gentle eyes for a moment while she paused, and drew +her soul back from the sorrowful past to the tragedy of to-day: + +"And so, my darling, you must see your husband and forgive. He isn't bad. +He carried in his blood the inheritance of hundreds of years of lawless +passion. The noble thing about Dan is that he has the strength of character +to rise from this to a higher manhood. You must help him, dearest, to do +this." + +The daughter bent and kissed the gentle lips: + +"Ask him to come here, mother----" + +She found the restless husband pacing the floor of the pillared porch. It +was past two o'clock and the waning moon had risen. His face was ghastly as +his feet stopped their dreary beat at the rustle of her dress. His heart +stood still for a moment until he saw the smiling face. + +"It's all right, Dan," she called softly in the doorway. "She's waiting for +you." + +He sprang to the door, stooped and kissed the silken gray hair and hurried +up the stairs. + +Tears were slowly stealing from the blue eyes as the little wife extended +her frail arms. The man knelt and bowed his head in her lap, unable to +speak at first. With an effort he mastered his voice: + +"Say that you forgive me!" + +The blonde head sank until it touched the brown: + +"I forgive you--but, oh, Dan, dear, I don't want to live any more now----" + +"Don't say that!" he pleaded desperately. + +"And I've wanted to live so madly, so desperately--but now--I'm afraid I +can't." + +"You can--you must! You have forgiven me. I'll prove my love to you by a +life of such devotion I'll make you forget! All I ask is the chance to +atone and make you happy. You must live because I ask it, dear! It's the +only way you can give me a chance. And the boy--dearest--you must live to +teach him." + +She nodded her head and choked back a sob. + +When the first faint light of the dawn of a glorious spring morning began +to tinge the eastern sky he was still holding her hands and begging her to +live. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE FIGHT FOR LIFE + + +The little wife made a brave fight. For a week there was no sign of a +breakdown save an unnatural brightness of the eyes that told the story of +struggle within. He gave himself to the effort to help her win. He spent +but an hour at the Capitol, left a Speaker _pro tem_ in the chair, hurried +to his office, gave his orders and by eleven o'clock he was at home, +talking, laughing, and planning a day's work that would interest her and +bring back the flush to her pale cheeks. + +She had responded to his increasing tenderness and devotion with pathetic +eagerness. At the beginning of the second week Doctor Williams gave him +hope: + +"It looks to me, my boy," he said thoughtfully, "that I'm seeing a miracle. +I think she's not only going to survive the shock, but, what's more +remarkable, she's going to recover her health again. The mind's the source +of health and power. We give medicines, of course, but the thought that +heals the soul will reach the body. Bah!--the body is the soul anyhow, for +all our fine-spun theories, and the mind is only one of the ways through +which we reach it----" + +"You really think she may be well again?" Norton asked with boyish +eagerness. + +"Yes, if you can reconcile her mind to this thing, she'll not only live, +she will be born again into a more vigorous life. Why not? The preachers +have often called me a godless rationalist. But I go them one better when +they preach the miracle of a second, or spiritual birth. I believe in the +possibility of many births for the human soul and the readjustment of these +bodies of ours to the new spirits thus born. If you can tide her over the +next three weeks without a breakdown, she will get well." + +The husband's eyes flashed: + +"If it depends on her mental attitude, I'll make her live and grow strong. +I'll give her my body and soul." + +"There are just two dangers----" + +"What?" + +"The first mental--a sudden collapse of the will with which she's making +this fight under a reaction to the memories of our system of educated +ignorance, which we call girlish innocence. This may come at a moment when +the consciousness of these 'ideals' may overwhelm her imagination and cause +a collapse----" + +"Yes, I understand," he replied thoughtfully. "I'll guard that." + +"The other is the big physical enigma----" + +"You mean?" + +"The possible reopening of that curious abscess in her throat." + +"But the specialist assured us it would never reappear----" + +"Yes, and he knows just as much about it as you or I. It is one of the few +cases of its kind so far recorded in the science of medicine. When the baby +was born, the drawing of the mother's neck in pain pressed a bone of the +spinal column into the flesh beside the jugular vein. Your specialist never +dared to operate for a thorough removal of the trouble for fear he would +sever the vein----" + +"And if the old wound reopens it will reach the jugular vein?" + +"Yes." + +"Well--it--won't happen!" he answered fiercely. "It can't happen now----" + +"I don't think it will myself, if you can keep at its highest tension the +desire to live. That's the magic thing that works the miracle of life in +such cases. It makes food digest, sends red blood to the tips of the +slenderest finger and builds up the weak places. Don't forget this, my boy. +Make her love life, desperately and passionately, until the will to live +dominates both soul and body." + +"I'll do it," was the firm answer, as he grasped the doctor's outstretched +hand in parting. + +He withdrew completely from his political work. A Speaker _pro tem_ +presided daily over the deliberations of the House, and an assistant editor +took charge of the paper. + +The wife gently urged him to give part of his time to his work again. + +"No," he responded firmly and gayly. "The doctor says you have a chance to +get well. I'd rather see the roses in your cheeks again than be the +President of the United States." + +She drew his head down and clung to him with desperate tenderness. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +CLEO'S SILENCE + + +For two weeks the wife held her own and the doctor grew more confident each +day. When Norton began to feel sure the big danger was past his mind became +alert once more to the existence of Cleo. He began to wonder why she had +not made an effort to see or communicate with him. + +She had apparently vanished from the face of the earth. In spite of his +effort to minimize the importance of this fact, her silence gradually grew +in sinister significance. What did it mean? What was her active brain and +vital personality up to? That it boded no good to his life and the life of +those he loved he couldn't doubt for a moment. He sent a reporter on a +secret mission to Peeler's house to find if she were there. + +He returned in three hours and made his report. + +"She's at Peeler's, sir," the young man said with a smile. + +"You allowed no one to learn the real reason of your visit, as I told you?" + +"They never dreamed it. I interviewed old Peeler on the revolution in +politics and its effects on the poor whites of the state----" + +"You saw her?" + +"She seemed to be all over the place at the same time, singing, laughing +and perfectly happy." + +"Run your interview to-morrow, and keep this visit a profound secret +between us." + +"Yes, sir." + +The reporter tipped his hat and was gone. Why she was apparently happy and +contented in surroundings she had grown to loathe was another puzzle. +Through every hour of the day, down in the subconscious part of his mind, +he was at work on this surprising fact. The longer he thought of it the +less he understood it. That she would ever content herself with the dreary +existence of old Peeler's farm after her experiences in the town and in his +home was preposterous. + +That she was smiling and happy under such conditions was uncanny, and the +picture of her shining teeth and the sound of her deep voice singing as she +walked through the cheap, sordid surroundings of that drab farmhouse +haunted his mind with strange fear. + +She was getting ready to strike him in the dark. Just how the blow would +fall he couldn't guess. + +The most obvious thing for her to do would be to carry her story to his +political enemies and end his career at a stroke. Yet somehow, for the life +of him he couldn't picture her choosing that method of revenge. She had not +left him in a temper. The rage and curses had all been his. She had never +for a moment lost her self-control. The last picture that burned into his +soul was the curious smile with which she had spoken her parting words: + +"But I'll see you again!" + +Beyond a doubt some clean-cut plan of action was in her mind when she +uttered that sentence. The one question now was--"what did she mean?" + +There was one thought that kept popping into his head, but it was too +hideous for a moment's belief. He stamped on it as he would a snake and +hurried on to other possibilities. There was but one thing he could do and +that was to await with increasing dread her first move. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE LARGER VISION + + +His mind had just settled into this attitude of alert watchfulness toward +Cleo when the first danger the doctor dreaded for his wife began to take +shape. + +The feverish brightness in her eyes grew dimmer and her movements less +vigorous. The dreaded reaction had come and the taut strings of weakened +nerves could bear the strain no longer. + +With a cry of despair she threw herself into his arms: + +"Oh, Dan, dear, it's no use! I've tried--I've tried so hard--but I can't do +it--I just don't want to live any more!" + +He put his hands over the trembling, thin lips: + +"Hush, dearest, you mustn't say that--it's just a minute's reaction. You're +blue this morning, that's all. It's the weather--a dreary foggy day. The +sun will be shining again to-morrow. It's shining now behind the mists if +we only remember it. The trees are bare, but their buds are swelling and +these days of cold and fog and rain must come to make them burst in glory. +Come, let me put your shawl around you and I'll show you how the flowers +have pushed up in the sheltered places the past week." + +He drew the hands, limp and cold, from his neck, picked up her shawl, +tenderly placed it about her shoulders, lifted her in his strong arms, and +carried her to the old rose garden behind the house. + +Don sniffed his leg, and looked up into his face with surprise at the +unexpected frolic. He leaped into the air, barked softly and ran in front +to show the way. + +"You see, old Don knows the sun is shining behind the clouds, dear!" + +She made no answer. The blonde head drooped limply against his breast. He +found a seat on the south side of the greenhouse on an old rustic bench his +father had built of cedar when he was a boy. + +"There," he said cheerfully, as he smoothed her dress and drew her close by +his side. "You can feel the warmth of the sun here reflected from the +glass. The violets are already blooming along the walks. The jonquils are +all gone, and the rose bushes have begun to bud. You mustn't talk about +giving up. We haven't lived yet." + +"But I'm tired, Dan, tired----" + +"It's just for a moment, remember, my love. You'll feel differently +to-morrow. The world is always beautiful if we only have eyes to see and +ears to hear. Watch that smoke curling straight up from the chimney! That +means the clouds are already lifting and the sun will burst through them +this afternoon. You mustn't brood, dearest. You must forget the misery that +has darkened our world for a moment and remember that it's only the dawn of +a new life for us both. We are just boy and girl yet. There's nothing +impossible. I'm going to prove to you that my love is the deathless thing +in me--the thing that links me to God." + +"You really love me so?" she asked softly. + +"Give me a chance to prove it. That's all I ask. Men sometimes wait until +they're past forty before they begin to sow their wild oats. I am only +twenty-five now. This tragic sin and shame has redeemed life. It's yours +forever--you must believe me when I say this, dearest----" + +"I try," she broke in wearily. "I try, Dan, but it's hard to believe +anything now--oh, so hard----" + +"But can't you understand, my love, how I have been headstrong and selfish +before the shock of my fall brought me to my senses? And that the terror of +losing you has taught me how deep and eternal the roots of our love have +struck and this knowledge led me into the consciousness of a larger and +more wonderful life--can't--can't you understand this, dearest?" + +His voice sank to the lowest reverent whisper as he ceased to speak. She +stroked his hand with a pathetic little gesture of tenderness. + +"Yes, I believe you," she said with a far-away look in her eyes. "I know +that I can trust you now implicitly, and what I can't understand is +that--feeling this so clearly--still I have no interest in life. Something +has snapped inside of me. Life doesn't seem worth the struggle any +longer----" + +"But it is, dear! Life is always good, always beautiful, and always worth +the struggle. We've but to lift our eyes and see. Sin is only our stumbling +in the dark as we grope toward the light. I'm going to be a humbler and +better man. I am no longer proud and vain. I've a larger and sweeter +vision. I feel my kinship to the weak and the erring. Alone in the night my +soul has entered into the fellowship of the great Brotherhood through the +gates of suffering. You must know this, Jean--you know that it's true as I +thus lay my heart's last secret bare to you to-day. + +"Yes, Dan," she sighed wearily, "but I'm just tired. I don't seem to +recognize anything I used to know. I look at the baby and he don't seem to +be mine. I look at you and feel that you're a stranger. I look at my room, +the lawn, the street, the garden--no matter where, and I'm dazed. I feel +that I've lost my way. I don't know how to live any more." + +For an hour he held her hand and pleaded with all the eloquence of his love +that she would let him teach her again, and all she could do was to come +back forever in the narrow circle her mind had beaten. She was tired and +life no longer seemed worth while! + +He kissed the drooping eyelids at last and laughed a willful, daring laugh +as he gathered her in his arms and walked slowly back into the house. + +"You've got to live, my own! I'll show you how! I'll breathe my fierce +desire into your soul and call you back even from the dead!" + +Yet in spite of all she drooped and weakened daily, and at the end of a +fortnight began to complain of a feeling of uneasiness in her throat. + +The old doctor said nothing when she made this announcement. He drew his +beetling eyebrows low and walked out on the lawn. + +Pale and haggard, Norton followed him. + +"Well, doctor?" he asked queerly. + +"There's only one thing to do. Get her away from here at once, to the most +beautiful spot you can find, high altitude with pure, stimulating air. The +change may help her. That's all I can say"--he paused, laid his hand on the +husband's arm and went on earnestly--"and if you haven't discussed that +affair with her, you'd better try it. Tear the old wound open, go to the +bottom of it, find the thing that's festering there and root it out if you +can--the thing that's caused this break." + +The end of another week found them in Asheville, North Carolina. + +The wonderful views of purple hills and turquoise sky stretching away into +the infinite thrilled the heart of the little invalid. + +It was her first trip to the mountains. She never tired the first two days +of sitting in the big sun-parlor beside the open fire logs and gazing over +the valleys and watching the fleet clouds with their marvelous coloring. +The air was too chill in these early days of spring for her to feel +comfortable outside. But a great longing began to possess her to climb the +mountains and feel their beauty at closer range. + +She sat by his side in her room and held his hand while they watched the +glory of the first cloud-flecked mountain sunset. The river lay a crooked +silver ribbon in the deepening shadows of the valley, while the sky +stretched its dazzling scarlet canopy high in heaven above it. The scarlet +slowly turned to gold, and then to deepening purple and with each change +revealed new beauty to the enraptured eye. + +She caught her breath and cried at last: + +"Oh, it is a beautiful world, Dan, dear--and I wish I could live!" + +He laughed for joy: + +"Then you shall, dearest! You shall, of course you shall!" + +"I want you to take me over every one of those wonderful purple hills!" + +"Yes, dear, I will!" + +"I dream as I sit and look at them that God lives somewhere in one of those +deep shadows behind a dazzling cloud, and that if we only drive along those +ragged cliffs among them we'd come face to face with Him some day----" + +He looked at her keenly. There was again that unnatural brightness in her +eyes which he didn't like and yet he took courage. The day was a glorious +one in the calendar. Hope had dawned in her heart. + +"The first warm day we'll go, dear," he cried with the enthusiasm of a boy, +"and take mammy and the kid with us, too, if you say so----" + +"No, I want just you, Dan. The long ride might tire the baby, and I might +wish to stay up there all night. I shall never grow tired of those hills." + +"It's sweet to hear you talk like that," he cried with a smile. + +He selected a gentle horse for their use and five days later, when the sun +rose with unusual warmth, they took their first mountain drive. + +Along the banks of crystal brooks that dashed their sparkling waters over +the rocks, up and up winding, narrow roads until the town became a mottled +white spot in the valley below, and higher still until the shining clouds +they had seen from the valley rolled silently into their faces, melting +into the gray mists of fog! + +In the midst of one of these clouds, the little wife leaned close and +whispered: + +"We're in heaven now, Dan--we're passing through the opal gates! I +shouldn't be a bit surprised to see Him at any moment up here----" + +A lump suddenly rose in his throat. Her voice sounded unreal. He bent +close and saw the strange bright light again in her eyes. And the awful +thought slowly shaped itself that the light he saw was the shining image of +the angel of Death reflected there. + +He tried to laugh off his morbid fancy now that she had begun to find the +world so beautiful, but the idea haunted him with increasing terror. He +couldn't shake off the impression. + +An hour later he asked abruptly: + +"You have felt no return of the pain in your throat, dear?" + +"Just a little last night, but not to-day--I've been happy to-day." + +He made up his mind to telegraph to New York at once for the specialist to +examine her throat. + +The fine weather continued unbroken. Every day for a week she sat by his +side and drifted over sunlit valleys, lingered beside beautiful waters and +climbed a new peak to bathe in sun-kissed clouds. On the top of one of +these peaks they found a farmhouse where lodgers were allowed for the +night. They stayed to see the sunrise next morning. Mammy would not worry, +they had told her they might spend the night on these mountain trips. + +The farmer called them in time--just as the first birds were waking in the +trees by their window. + +It was a climb of only two hundred yards to reach the top of a great +boulder that gave an entrancing view in four directions. To the west lay +the still sleeping town of Asheville half hidden among its hills and trees. +Eastward towered the giant peaks of the Blue Ridge, over whose ragged +crests the sun was climbing. + +The young husband took the light form in his strong arms and carried her +to the summit. He placed his coat on the rocky ledge, seated her on it, and +slipped his arm around the slim waist. There in silence they watched the +changing glory of the sky and saw the shadows wake and flee from the +valleys at the kiss of the sun. + +He felt the moment had come that he might say some things he had waited +with patience to speak: + +"You are sure, dear, that you have utterly forgiven the great wrong I did +you?" + +"Yes, Dan," she answered simply, "why do you ask?" + +"I just want to be sure, my Jean," he said tenderly, "that there's not a +single dark corner of your heart in which the old shadows lurk. I want to +drive them all out with my love just as we see the sun now lighting with +glory every nook and corner of the world. You are sure?" + +The thin lips quivered uncertainly and her blue eyes wavered as he searched +their depths. + +"There's one thing, Dan, that I'll never quite face, I think"--she paused +and turned away. + +"What, dear?" + +"How any man who had ever bent over a baby's cradle with the tenderness and +love I've seen in your face for Tom, could forget the mother who gave the +life at his command!" + +"I didn't forget, dearest," he said sadly. "I fought as a wounded man, +alone and unarmed, fights a beast in the jungle. With her sweet spiritual +ideal of love a sheltered, innocent woman can't remember that man is still +an animal, with tooth and claw and unbridled passions, that when put to the +test his religion and his civilization often are only a thin veneer, that +if he becomes a civilized human being in his relations to women it is not +by inheritance, for he is yet in the zoölogical period of development--but +that it is by the divine achievement of character through struggle. Try, +dearest, if you can, to imagine such a struggle. This primeval man, in the +shadows with desires inflamed by hunger, meets this free primeval woman who +is unafraid, who laughs at the laws of Society because she has nothing to +lose. Both are for the moment animals pure and simple. The universal in him +finds its counterpart in the universal in her. And whether she be fair or +dark, her face, her form, her body, her desires are his--and, above all, +she is near--and in that moment with a nearness that overwhelms by its +enfolding animal magnetism all powers of the mind to think or reflect. Two +such beings are atoms tossed by a storm of forces beyond their control. A +man of refinement wakes from such a crash of elemental powers dazed and +humiliated. Your lips can speak no word as vile, no curse as bitter as I +have hurled against myself----" + +The voice broke and he was silent. A little hand pressed his, and her words +were the merest tender whisper as she leaned close: + +"I've forgiven you, my love, and I'm going to let you teach me again to +live. I'll be a very docile little scholar in your school. But you know I +can't forget in a moment the greatest single hour that is given a woman to +know--the hour she feels the breath of her first born on her breast. It's +the memory of that hour that hurts. I won't try to deceive you. I'll get +over it in the years to come if God sends them----" + +"He will send them--he will send them!" the man broke in with desperate +emotion. + +Both were silent for several minutes and a smile began to play about the +blue eyes when she spoke at last: + +"You remember how angry you were that morning when you found a doctor and a +nurse in charge of your home? And the great fear that gripped your heart at +the first mad cry of pain I gave? I laughed at myself the next moment. And +then how I found your hand and wouldn't let you go. The doctor stormed and +ordered you out, and I just held on and shook my head, and you stayed. And +when the doctor turned his back I whispered in your ear: + +"''You won't leave me, Dan, darling, for a single moment--promise me--swear +it!' + +"And you answered: + +"'Yes, I swear it, honey--but you must be very brave--braver than I am, you +know'---- + +"And you begged me to take an anesthetic and I wouldn't, like a little +fool. I wanted to know all and feel all if it killed me. And the anguish of +your face became so terrible, dear--I was sorrier for you than for myself. +And when I saw your lips murmuring in an agony of prayer, I somehow didn't +mind it then----" + +She paused, looked far out over the hills and continued: + +"What a funny cry he gave--that first one--not a real baby cry--just a +funny little grunt like a good-natured pig! And how awfully disappointed +you were at the shapeless bundle of red flesh that hardly looked human! But +I could see the lines of your dear face in his, I knew that he would be +even handsomer than his big, brave father and pressed him close and laughed +for joy----" + +She stopped and sighed: + +"You see, Dan, what I couldn't understand is how any man who has felt the +pain and the glory of this, with his hand clasped in the hand of the woman +he loves, their two souls mirrored in that first pair of mysterious little +eyes God sent from eternity--how he could forget the tie that binds----" + +He made no effort to interrupt her until the last bitter thought that had +been rankling in her heart was out. He was looking thoughtfully over the +valley. An eagle poised above the field in the foreground, darted to the +stubble with lightning swiftness and rose with a fluttering brown quail in +his talons. His shrill cry of triumph rang pitilessly in the stillness of +the heights. + +The little figure gave an unconscious shiver and she added in low tones: + +"I'm never going to speak of this nameless thing again, Dan, but you asked +me this morning and I've told you what was in my heart. I just couldn't +understand how you could forget----" + +"Only a beast could, dearest," he answered with a curl of the lip. "I'm +something more than that now, taught by the bitterness of experience. +You're just a sweet, innocent girl who has never looked the world as it is +in the face. Reared as you were, you can't understand that there's a +difference as deep as the gulf between heaven and hell, in the divine love +that binds my soul and body and life to you and the sudden passing of a +storm of passion. Won't you try to remember this?" + +"Yes, dear, I will----" + +She looked into his eyes with a smile of tenderness: + +"A curious change is coming over you, Dan. I can begin to see it. There +used to be a line of cruelty sometimes about your mouth and a flash of it +in your eyes. They're gone. There's something strong and tender, wise and +sweet, in their place. If I were an artist I could paint it but I can't +just tell you what it is. I used to think the cruel thing I saw in you was +the memory of the war. Your eyes saw so much of blood and death and pain +and cruelty----" + +"Perhaps it was," he said slowly. "War does make men cruel--unconsciously +cruel. We lose all sense of the value of human life----" + +"No, it wasn't that," she protested, "it was the other +thing--the--the--Beast you've been talking about. It's not there any more, +Dan--and I'm going to be happy now. I know it, dear----" + +He bent and kissed the slender fingers. + +"If this old throat of mine just won't bother me again," she added. + +He looked at her and turned pale: + +"It's bothering you this morning?" + +She lifted the delicately shaped head and touched her neck: + +"Not much pain, but a sense of fullness. I feel as if I'm going to choke +sometimes." + +He rose abruptly, a great fear in his heart: + +"We'll go back to town at once. The doctor should arrive at three from New +York." + +"Let's not hurry," she cried smiling. "I'm happy now. You're my old +sweetheart again and I'm on a new honeymoon----" + +He gazed at the white slender throat. She was looking unusually well. He +wondered if this were a trick of the enemy to throw him off his guard. He +wondered what was happening in those tiny cells behind the smooth round +lines of the beautiful neck. It made him sick and faint to think of the +possibility of another attack--just when the fight was over--just when she +had begun to smile and find life sweet again! His soul rose in fierce +rebellion. It was too horrible for belief. He simply wouldn't believe it! + +"All right!" he exclaimed with decision. "We'll stay here till two o'clock, +anyhow. We can drive back in three hours. The train will be late--it always +is." + +Through the long hours of a wonderful spring morning they basked in the sun +side by side on a bed of leaves he piled in a sheltered spot on the +mountain side. They were boy and girl again. The shadows had lifted and the +world was radiant with new glory. They talked of the future and the life of +perfect mutual faith and love that should be theirs. + +And each moment closer came the soft footfall of an unseen angel. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE OPAL GATES + + +The doctor was waiting at the hotel, his keen eyes very serious. He had +guessed the sinister meaning of the summons. He was an unusually brusque +man--almost rude in his words. He greeted Norton with friendly sympathy and +smiled at the radiant face of the wife. + +"Well, little mother," he said with grave humor, "we have more trouble. But +you're brave and patient. It's a joy to work for you." + +"And now," she responded gayly, "you've got to finish this thing, doctor. I +don't want any more half-way operations. I'm going to get well this time. +I'm happy and I'm going to be strong again." + +"Good, we'll get at it right away. I knew you'd feel that way and so I +brought with me a great surgeon, the most skillful man I know in New York. +I've told him of your case, a very unusual one, and he is going to help +me." + +The little mouth smiled bravely: + +"I'll be ready for the examination in half an hour----" + +When the doctors emerged from her room the sun had set behind the dark blue +hills and Norton was waiting on the balcony for their report. + +The specialist walked slowly to where he was standing. He couldn't move +from his tracks. His throat was dry and he had somehow lost the power of +speech. He looked into the face of the man of science, read the story of +tragedy and a mist closed his eyes. + +The doctor took his arm gently: + +"I've bad news for you----" + +"Yes, I know," was the low answer. + +"The truth is best----" + +"I want to know it." + +"She can't live!" + +The tall figure stiffened, there was a moment of silence and when he spoke +his words fell slowly with measured intensity: + +"There's not a single chance, doctor?" + +"Not worth your cherishing. You'd as well know this now and be prepared. We +opened and drained the old wound, and both agreed that it is too late for +an operation. The flesh that guards the wall of the great vein is a mere +shred. She would die under the operation. I can't undertake it." + +"And it will not heal again?" + +The doctor was silent for a long while and his eyes wandered to the +darkening sky where the stars were coming out one by one: + +"Who knows but God? And who am I to set bounds to his power?" + +"Then there may be a slender chance?" he asked eagerly. + +"To the eye of Science--no--yet while life lingers we always hope. But I +wouldn't advise you to leave her side for the next ten days. The end, if it +comes, will be very sudden, and it will be too late for speech." + +A groan interrupted his words and Norton leaned heavily against the +balcony rail. The doctor's voice was full of feeling as he continued: + +"If you have anything to say to her you'd better say it quickly to be sure +that it does not remain unsaid." + +"Thank you----" + +"I have told her nothing more can be done now until the wound from this +draining heals--that when it does she can come to New York for a final +decision on the operation." + +"I understand." + +"We leave to-night on the midnight express----" + +"You can do nothing more?" + +"Nothing." + +A warm pressure of the hand in the gathering twilight and he was gone. The +dazed man looked toward the fading sky-line of the southwest at Mt. +Pisgah's towering black form pushing his way into the track of the stars +and a feeling of loneliness crushed his soul. + +He turned abruptly, braced himself for the ordeal and hurried to her room. +She was unusually bright and cheerful. + +"Why, it didn't hurt a bit, dear!" she exclaimed joyfully. "It was nothing. +And when it heals you're to take me to New York for the operation----" + +He took her hot hand and kissed it through blinding tears which he tried in +vain to fight back. + +"They didn't even have to pack that nasty old gauze in it again--were you +very much scared waiting out there, Dan?" + +"Very much." + +She started at the queer note in his voice, caught her hand in his brown +locks and pressed his head back in view: + +"Why, you're crying--you big foolish boy! You mustn't do that. I'm all +right now--I feel much better--there's not a trace of pain or uneasiness. +Don't be silly--it's all right, remember." + +He stroked the little hand: + +"Yes, I'll remember, dearest." + +"It should all be healed in three weeks and then we'll go to New York. +It'll just be fun! I've always been crazy to go. I won't mind the +operation--you'll be with me every minute now till I'm well again." + +"Yes, dear, every moment now until--you--are--well." + +The last words came slowly, but by a supreme effort of will the voice was +held even. + +He found mammy, told her the solemn truth, and sent her to hire a nurse for +the baby. + +"Either you or I must be by her side every minute now, mammy--day and +night." + +"Yessir, I understand," the dear old voice answered. + +Every morning early the nurse brought the baby in for a romp as soon as he +waked and mammy came to relieve the tired watcher. + +Ten days passed before the end came. Many long, sweet hours he had with her +hand in his as the great shadow deepened, while he talked to her of life +and death, and immortality. + +A strange peace had slowly stolen into his heart. He had always hated and +feared death before. Now his fears had gone. And the face of the dim white +messenger seemed to smile at him from the friendly shadows. + +The change came quietly one night as they sat in the moonlight of her +window. + +"Oh, what a beautiful world, Dan!" she said softly, and then the little +hand suddenly grasped her throat! She turned a blanched face on him and +couldn't speak. + +He lifted her tenderly and laid her on the bed, rang for the doctor and +sent mammy for the baby. + +She motioned for a piece of paper--and slowly wrote in a queer, trembling +hand: + + "I understand, dearest, I am going--it's all right. I am + happy--remember that I love you and have forgiven--rear our + boy free from the curse--you know what I mean. I had rather + a thousand times that he should die than this--my brooding + spirit will watch and guard." + +The baby kissed her sweetly and lisped: + +"Good night, mamma!" + +From the doorway he waved his chubby little arm and cried again: + +"Night, night, mamma!" + +The sun was slowly climbing the eastern hills when the end came. Its first +rays streamed through the window and fell on his haggard face as he bent +and pressed a kiss on the silent lips of the dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +QUESTIONS + + +The thing that crushed the spirit of the man was not the shock of death +with its thousand and one unanswerable questions torturing the soul, but +the possibility that his acts had been the cause of the tragedy. Dr. +Williams had said to him over and over again: + +"Make her will to live and she'll recover!" + +He had fought this grim battle and won. She had willed to live and was +happy. The world had never seemed so beautiful as the day she died. If the +cause of her death lay further back in the curious accident which happened +at the birth of the child, his soul was clear of guilt. + +He held none of the morbid fancies of the super-sensitive mind that would +make a father responsible for a fatal outcome in the birth of a babe. God +made women to bear children. The only woman to be pitied was the one who +could not know the pain, the joy and the danger of this divine hour. + +But the one persistent question to which his mind forever returned was +whether the shock of his sin had weakened her vitality and caused the +return of this old trouble. + +The moment he left the grave on the day of her burial, he turned to the old +doctor with this grim question. He told him the whole story. He told him +every word she had spoken since they left home. He recounted every hour of +reaction and depression, the good and the bad, just as the recording angel +might have written it. He ended his recital with the burning question: + +"Tell me now, doctor, honestly before God, did I kill her?" + +"Certainly not!" was the quick response. + +"Don't try to shield me. I can stand the truth. I don't belong to a race of +cowards. After this no pain can ever come but that my soul shall laugh!" + +"I'm honest with you, my boy. I've too much self-respect not to treat you +as a man in such an hour. No, if she died as you say, you had nothing to do +with it. The seed of death was hiding there behind that slender, graceful +throat. I was always afraid of it. And I've always known that if the pain +returned she'd die----" + +"You knew that before we left home?" + +"Yes. I only hinted the truth. I thought the change might prolong her life, +that's all." + +"You're not saying this to cheer me? This is not one of your lies you give +for medicine sometimes?" + +"No"--the old doctor smiled gravely. "No, shake off this nightmare and go +back to your work. Your people are calling you." + + * * * * * + +He made a desperate effort to readjust himself to life, but somehow at the +moment the task was hopeless. He had preached, with all the eloquence of +the enthusiasm of youth, that life in itself is always beautiful and always +good. He found it was easier to preach a thing than to live it. + +The old house seemed to be empty, and, strange to say, the baby's voice +didn't fill it. He had said to himself that the patter of his little feet +and the sound of his laughter would fill its halls, make it possible to +live, and get used to the change. But it wasn't so. Somehow the child's +laughter made him faint. The sound of his voice made the memory of his +mother an intolerable pain. His voice in the morning was the first thing he +heard and it drove him from the house. At night when he knelt to lisp his +prayers her name was a stab, and when he waved his little hands and said: +"Good night, Papa!" he could remember nothing save the last picture that +had burned itself into his soul. + +He tried to feed and care for a canary she had kept in her room, but when +he cocked his little yellow head and gave the loving plaintive cry with +which he used to greet her, the room became a blur and he staggered out +unable to return for a day. + +The silent sympathy of his dog, as he thrust his nose between his hands and +wagged his shaggy tail, was the only thing that seemed to count for +anything. + +"I understand, Don, old boy," he cried, lifting his paw into his lap and +slipping his arm around the woolly neck, "you're telling me that you love +me always, good or bad, right or wrong. I understand, and it's very sweet +to know it. But I've somehow lost the way on life's field, old boy. The +night is coming on and I can't find the road home. You remember that +feeling when we were lost sometimes in strange countries hunting together, +you and I?" + +Don licked his hand and wagged his tail again. + +He rose and walked through the lawn, radiant now with the glory of spring. +But the flowers had become the emblems of Death not Life and their odor +was oppressive. + +A little black boy, in a ragged shirt and torn trousers, barefooted and +bareheaded, stopped at the gate, climbed up and looked over with idle +curiosity at his aimless wandering. He giggled and asked: + +"Ye don't need no boy fer nothin, do ye?" + +The man's sombre eyes suddenly lighted with a look of hate that faded in a +moment and he made no reply. What had this poor little ragamuffin, his face +smeared with dirt and his eyes rolling with childish mirth, to do with +tragic problems which his black skin symbolized! He was there because a +greedy race of empire builders had need of his labor. He had remained to +torment and puzzle and set at naught the wisdom of statesmen for the same +reason. For the first time in his life he asked himself a startling +question: + +"Do I really need him?" + +Before the shock that threw his life into ruins he would have answered as +every Southerner always answered at that time: + +"Certainly I need him. His labor is indispensable to the South." + +But to-day, back of the fire that flashed in his eyes, there had been born +a new thought. He was destined to forget it in the stress of the life of +the future, but it was there growing from day to day. The thought shaped +itself into questions: + +"Isn't the price we pay too great? Is his labor worth more than the purity +of our racial stock? Shall we improve the breed of men or degrade it? Is +any progress that degrades the breed of men progress at all? Is it not +retrogression? Can we afford it?" + +He threw off his train of thought with a gesture of weariness and a great +desire suddenly possessed his heart to get rid of such a burden by a +complete break with every tie of life save one. + +"Why not take the boy and go?" he exclaimed. + +The more he turned the idea over in his mind the more clearly it seemed to +be the sensible thing to do. + +But the fighting instinct within him was too strong for immediate +surrender. He went to his office determined to work and lose himself in a +return to its old habits. + +He sat down at his desk, but his mind was a blank. There wasn't a question +on earth that seemed worth writing an editorial about. Nothing mattered. + +For two hours he sat hopelessly staring at his exchanges. The same world, +which he had left a few weeks before when he had gone down into the valley +of the shadows to fight for his life, still rolled on with its endless +story of joy and sorrow, ambitions and struggle. It seemed now the record +of the buzzing of a lot of insects. It was a waste of time to record such a +struggle or to worry one way or another about it. And this effort of a +daily newspaper to write the day's history of these insects! It might be +worth the while of a philosopher to pause a moment to record the blow that +would wipe them out of existence, but to get excited again over their +little squabbles--it seemed funny now that he had ever been such a fool! + +He rose at last in disgust and seized his hat to go home when the Chairman +of the Executive Committee of his party suddenly walked into his office +unannounced. His face was wreathed in smiles and his deep bass voice had a +hearty, genuine ring: + +"I've big news for you, major!" + +The editor placed a chair beside his desk, motioned his visitor to be +seated and quietly resumed his seat. + +"It's been settled for some time," he went on enthusiastically, "but we +thought best not to make the announcement so soon after your wife's death. +I reckon you can guess my secret?" + +"I give it up," was the listless answer. + +"The Committee has voted unanimously to make you the next Governor. Your +nomination with such backing is a mere formality. Your election is a +certainty----" + +The Chairman sprang to his feet and extended his big hand: + +"I salute the Governor of the Commonwealth--the youngest man in the history +of the state to hold such high office----" + +"You mean it?" Norton asked in a stupor. + +"Mean it? Of course I mean it! Why don't you give me your hand? What's the +matter?" + +"You see, I've sort of lost my bearings in politics lately." + +The Chairman's voice was lowered: + +"Of course, major, I understand. Well, this is the medicine you need now to +brace you up. For the first time in my memory a name will go before our +convention without a rival. There'll be just one ballot and that will be a +single shout that'll raise the roof----" + +Norton rose and walked to his window overlooking the Square, as he was in +the habit of doing often, turning his back for a moment on the enthusiastic +politician. + +He was trying to think. The first big dream of his life had come true and +it didn't interest him. + +He turned abruptly and faced his visitor: + +"Tell your Committee for me," he said with slow emphatic voice, "that I +appreciate the high honor they would do me, but cannot accept----" + +"What!" + +"I cannot accept the responsibility." + +"You don't mean it?" + +"I was never more in earnest." + +The Chairman slipped his arm around the editor with a movement of genuine +sympathy: + +"Come, my boy, this is nonsense. I'm a veteran politician. No man ever did +such a thing as this in the history of the state! You can't decline such an +honor. You're only twenty-five years old." + +"Time is not measured by the tick of a clock," Norton interrupted, "but by +what we've lived." + +"Yes, yes, we know you've had a great shock in the death of your wife, but +you must remember that the people--a million people--are calling you to +lead them. It's a solemn duty. Don't say no now. Take a little time and +you'll see that it's the work sent to you at the moment you need it most. I +won't take no for an answer----" + +He put on his hat and started to the door: + +"I'll just report to the Committee that I notified you and that you have +the matter under consideration." + +Before Norton could enter a protest the politician had gone. + +His decision was instantly made. This startling event revealed the +hopelessness of life under its present conditions. He would leave the +South. He would put a thousand miles between him and the scene of the +events of the past year. He would leave his home with its torturing +memories. + +Above all, he would leave the negroid conditions that made his shame +possible and rear his boy in clean air. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +CLEO'S CRY + + +The decision once made was carried out without delay. He placed an editor +permanently in charge of his paper, closed the tall green shutters of the +stately old house, sold his horses, and bought tickets for himself and +mammy for New York. + +He paused at the gate and looked back at the white pillars of which he had +once been so proud. He hadn't a single regret at leaving. + +"A house doesn't make a home, after all!" he sighed with a lingering look. + +He took the boy to the cemetery for a last hour beside the mother's grave +before he should turn his back on the scenes of his old life forever. + +The cemetery was the most beautiful spot in the county. At this period of +the life of the South, it was the one spot where every home had its little +plot. The war had killed the flower of Southern manhood. The bravest and +the noblest boys never surrendered. They died with a shout and a smile on +their lips and Southern women came daily now to keep their love watches on +these solemn bivouacs of the dead. The girls got the habit of going there +to plant flowers and to tend them and grew to love the shaded walks, the +deep boxwood hedges, the quiet, sweetly perfumed air. Sweethearts were +always strolling among the flowers and from every nook and corner peeped a +rustic seat that could tell its story of the first stammering words from +lovers' lips. + +Norton saw them everywhere this beautiful spring afternoon, the girls in +their white, clean dresses, the boys bashful and self-conscious. A throb of +pain gripped his heart and he hurried through the wilderness of flowers to +the spot beneath a great oak where he had laid the tired body of the first +and only woman he had ever loved. + +He placed the child on the grass and led him to the newly-made mound, put +into his tiny hand the roses he had brought and guided him while he placed +them on her grave. + +"This is where little mother sleeps, my boy," he said softly. "Remember it +now--it will be a long, long time before we shall see it again. You won't +forget----" + +"No--dad-ee," he lisped sweetly. "I'll not fordet, the big tree----" + +The man rose and stood in silence seeing again the last beautiful day of +their life together and forgot the swift moments. He stood as in a trance +from which he was suddenly awakened by the child's voice calling him +excitedly from another walkway into which he had wandered: + +"Dad-ee!" he called again. + +"Yes, baby," he answered. + +"Oh, come quick! Dad-ee--here's C-l-e-o!" + +Norton turned and with angry steps measured the distance between them. + +He came upon them suddenly behind a boxwood hedge. The girl was kneeling +with the child's arms around her neck, clinging to her with all the +yearning of his hungry little heart, and she was muttering half articulate +words of love and tenderness. She held him from her a moment, looked into +his eyes and cried: + +"And you missed me, darling?" + +"Oh--C-l-e-o!" he cried, "I thought 'oo'd _nev-er_ tum!" + +The angry words died in the man's lips as he watched the scene in silence. + +He stooped and drew the child away: + +"Come, baby, we must go----" + +"Tum on, C-l-e-o, we do now," he cried. + +The girl shook her head and turned away. + +"Tum on, C-l-e-o!" he cried tenderly. + +She waved him a kiss, and the child said excitedly: + +"Oh, dad-ee, wait!--wait for C-l-e-o!" + +"No, my baby, she can't come with us----" + +The little head sank to his shoulder, a sob rose from his heart and he +burst into weeping. And through the storm of tears one word only came out +clear and soft and plaintive: + +"C-l-e-o! C-l-e-o!" + +The girl watched them until they reached the gate and then, on a sudden +impulse, ran swiftly up, caught the child's hand that hung limply down his +father's back, covered it with kisses and cried in cheerful, half-laughing +tones: + +"Don't cry, darling! Cleo will come again!" + +And in the long journey to the North the man brooded over the strange tones +of joyous assurance with which the girl had spoken. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE BLOW FALLS + + +For a time Norton lost himself in the stunning immensity of the life of New +York. He made no effort to adjust himself to it. He simply allowed its +waves to roll over and engulf him. + +He stopped with mammy and the boy at a brown-stone boarding house on +Stuyvesant Square kept by a Southern woman to whom he had a letter of +introduction. + +Mrs. Beam was not an ideal landlady, but her good-natured helplessness +appealed to him. She was a large woman of ample hips and bust, and though +very tall seemed always in her own way. She moved slowly and laughed with a +final sort of surrender to fate when anything went wrong. And it was +generally going wrong. She was still comparatively young--perhaps +thirty-two--but was built on so large and unwieldy a pattern that it was +not easy to guess her age, especially as she had a silly tendency to +harmless kittenish ways at times. + +The poor thing was pitifully at sea in her new world and its work. She had +been reared in a typically extravagant home of the old South where slaves +had waited her call from childhood. She had not learned to sew, or cook or +keep house--in fact, she had never learned to do anything useful or +important. So naturally she took boarders. Her husband, on whose shoulders +she had placed every burden of life the day of her marriage, lay somewhere +in an unmarked trench on a Virginia battlefield. + +She couldn't conceive of any human being enduring a servant that wasn't +black and so had turned her house over to a lazy and worthless crew of +Northern negro help. The house was never clean, the waste in her kitchen +was appalling, but so long as she could find money to pay her rent and +grocery bills, she was happy. Her only child, a daughter of sixteen, never +dreamed of lifting her hand to work, and it hadn't yet occurred to the +mother to insult her with such a suggestion. + +Norton was not comfortable but he was lonely, and Mrs. Beam's easy ways, +genial smile and Southern weaknesses somehow gave him a sense of being at +home and he stayed. Mammy complained bitterly of the insolence and low +manners of the kitchen. But he only laughed and told her she'd get used to +it. + +He was astonished to find that so many Southern people had drifted to New +York--exiles of all sorts, with one universal trait, poverty and +politeness. + +And they quickly made friends. As he began to realize it, his heart went +out to the great city with a throb of gratitude. + +When the novelty of the new world had gradually worn off a feeling of +loneliness set in. He couldn't get used to the crowds on every street, +these roaring rivers of strange faces rushing by like the waters of a +swollen stream after a freshet, hurrying and swirling out of its banks. + +At first he had found himself trying to bow to every man he met and take +off his hat to every woman. It took a long time to break himself of this +Southern instinct. The thing that cured him completely was when he tipped +his hat unconsciously to a lady on Fifth Avenue. She blushed furiously, +hurried to the corner and had him arrested. + +His apology was so abject, so evidently sincere, his grief so absurd over +her mistake that when she caught his Southern drawl, it was her turn to +blush and ask his pardon. + +A feeling of utter depression and pitiful homesickness gradually crushed +his spirit. His soul began to cry for the sunlit fields and the perfumed +nights of the South. There didn't seem to be any moon or stars here, and +the only birds he ever saw were the chattering drab little sparrows in the +parks. + +The first day of autumn, as he walked through Central Park, a magnificent +Irish setter lifted his fine head and spied him. Some subtle instinct told +the dog that the man was a hunter and a lover of his kind. The setter +wagged his tail and introduced himself. Norton dropped to a seat, drew the +shaggy face into his lap, and stroked his head. + +He was back home again. Don, with his fine nose high in the air, was +circling a field and Andy was shouting: + +"He's got 'em! He's got 'em sho, Marse Dan!" + +He could see Don's slim white and black figure stepping slowly through the +high grass on velvet feet, glancing back to see if his master were +coming--the muscles suddenly stiffened, his tail became rigid, and the +whole covey of quail were under his nose! + +He was a boy again and felt the elemental thrill of man's first work as +hunter and fisherman. He looked about him at the bald coldness of the +artificial park and a desperate longing surged through his heart to be +among his own people again, to live their life and feel their joys and +sorrows as his own. + +And then the memory of the great tragedy slowly surged back, he pushed the +dog aside, rose and hurried on in his search for a new world. + +He tried the theatres--saw Booth in his own house on 23d Street play +"Hamlet" and Lawrence Barrett "Othello," listened with rapture to the new +Italian Grand Opera Company in the Academy of Music--saw a burlesque in the +Tammany Theatre on 14th Street, Lester Wallack in "The School for Scandal" +at Wallack's Theatre on Broadway at 13th Street, and Tony Pastor in his +variety show at his Opera House on the Bowery, and yet returned each night +with a dull ache in his heart. + +Other men who loved home less perhaps could adjust themselves to new +surroundings, but somehow in him this home instinct, this feeling of +personal friendliness for neighbor and people, this passion for house and +lawn, flowers and trees and shrubs, for fields and rivers and hills, seemed +of the very fibre of his inmost life. This vast rushing, roaring, +impersonal world, driven by invisible titanic forces, somehow didn't appeal +to him. It merely stunned and appalled and confused his mind. + +And then without warning the blow fell. + +He told himself afterwards that he must have been waiting for it, that some +mysterious power of mental telepathy had wired its message without words +across the thousand miles that separated him from the old life, and yet the +surprise was complete and overwhelming. + +He had tried that morning to write. A story was shaping itself in his mind +and he felt the impulse to express it. But he was too depressed. He threw +his pencil down in disgust and walked to his window facing the little +park. + +It was a bleak, miserable day in November--the first freezing weather had +come during the night and turned a drizzling rain into sleet. The streets +were covered with a thin, hard, glistening coat of ice. A coal wagon had +stalled in front of the house, a magnificent draught horse had fallen and a +brutal driver began to beat him unmercifully. + +Henry Berg's Society had not yet been organized. + +Norton rushed from the door and faced the astonished driver: + +"Don't you dare to strike that horse again!" + +The workman turned his half-drunken face on the intruder with a vicious +leer: + +"Well, what t'ell----" + +"I mean it!" + +With an oath the driver lunged at him: + +"Get out of my way!" + +The big fist shot at Norton's head. He parried the attack and knocked the +man down. The driver scrambled to his feet and plunged forward again. A +second blow sent him flat on his back on the ice and his body slipped three +feet and struck the curb. + +"Have you got enough?" Norton asked, towering over the sprawling figure. + +"Yes." + +"Well, get up now, and I'll help you with the horse." + +He helped the sullen fellow unhitch the fallen horse, lift him to his feet +and readjust the harness. He put shoulder to the wheel and started the +wagon again on its way. + +He returned to his room feeling better. It was the first fight he had +started for months and it stirred his blood to healthy reaction. + +He watched the bare limbs swaying in the bitter wind in front of St. +George's Church and his eye rested on the steeples the architects said were +unsafe and might fall some day with a crash, and his depression slowly +returned. He had waked that morning with a vague sense of dread. + +"I guess it was that fight!" he muttered. "The scoundrel will be back in an +hour with a warrant for my arrest and I'll spend a few days in jail----" + +The postman's whistle blew at the basement window. He knew that fellow by +the way he started the first notes of his call--always low, swelling into a +peculiar shrill crescendo and dying away in a weird cry of pain. + +The call this morning was one of startling effects. It was his high nerve +tension, of course, that made the difference--perhaps, too, the bitter cold +and swirling gusts of wind outside. But the shock was none the less vivid. +The whistle began so low it seemed at first the moaning of the wind, the +high note rang higher and higher, until it became the shout of a fiend, and +died away with a wail of agony wrung from a lost soul. + +He shivered at the sound. He would not have been surprised to receive a +letter from the dead after that. + +He heard some one coming slowly up stairs. It was mammy and the boy. The +lazy maid had handed his mail to her, of course. + +His door was pushed open and the child ran in holding a letter in his red, +chubby hand: + +"A letter, daddy!" he cried. + +He took it mechanically, staring at the inscription. He knew now the +meaning of his horrible depression! She was writing that letter when it +began yesterday. He recognized Cleo's handwriting at a glance, though this +was unusually blurred and crooked. The postmark was Baltimore, another +striking fact. + +He laid the letter down on his table unopened and turned to mammy: + +"Take him to your room. I'm trying to do some writing." + +The old woman took the child's hand grumbling: + +"Come on, mammy's darlin', nobody wants us!" + +He closed the door, locked it, glanced savagely at the unopened letter, +drew his chair before the open fire and gazed into the glowing coals. + +He feared to break the seal--feared with a dull, sickening dread. He +glanced at it again as though he were looking at a toad that had suddenly +intruded into his room. + +Six months had passed without a sign, and he had ceased to wonder at the +strange calm with which she received her dismissal and his flight from the +scene after his wife's death. He had begun to believe that her shadow would +never again fall across his life. + +It had come at last. He picked the letter up, and tried to guess its +meaning. She was going to make demands on him, of course. He had expected +this months ago. But why should she be in Baltimore? He thought of a +hundred foolish reasons without once the faintest suspicion of the truth +entering his mind. + +He broke the seal and read its contents. A look of vague incredulity +overspread his face, followed by a sudden pallor. The one frightful thing +he had dreaded and forgotten was true! + +He crushed the letter in his powerful hand with a savage groan: + +"God in Heaven!" + +He spread it out again and read and re-read its message, until each word +burned its way into his soul: + + "Our baby was born here yesterday. I was on my way to New + York to you, but was taken sick on the train at Baltimore + and had to stop. I'm alone and have no money, but I'm proud + and happy. I know that you will help me. + + "CLEO." + +For hours he sat in a stupor of pain, holding this crumpled letter in his +hand, staring into the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE CALL OF THE BLOOD + + +It was all clear now, the mystery of Cleo's assurance, of her happiness, of +her acceptance of his going without protest. + +She had known the truth from the first and had reckoned on his strength and +manliness to draw him to her in this hour. + +"I'll show her!" he said in fierce rebellion. "I'll give her the money she +needs--yes--but her shadow shall never again darken my life. I won't permit +this shame to smirch the soul of my boy--I'll die first!" + +He moved to the West side of town, permitted no one to learn his new +address, sent her money from the general postoffice, and directed all his +mail to a lock box he had secured. + +He destroyed thus every trace by which she might discover his residence if +she dared to venture into New York. + +To his surprise it was more than three weeks before he received a reply +from her. And the second letter made an appeal well-nigh resistless. The +message was brief, but she had instinctively chosen the words that found +him. How well she knew that side of his nature! He resented it with rage +and tried to read all sorts of sinister guile into the lines. But as he +scanned them a second time reason rejected all save the simplest and most +obvious meaning the words implied. + +The letter was evidently written in a cramped position. She had missed the +lines many times and some words were so scrawled they were scarcely +legible. But he read them all at last: + + "I have been very sick since your letter came with the + money. I tried to get up too soon. I have suffered awfully. + You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through. Please + don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help + now. I want to see you just once, and then I won't trouble + you any more. I am very weak to-day, but I'll soon be strong + again. + + "CLEO." + +It made him furious, this subtle appeal to his keen sense of fatherhood. +She knew how tenderly he loved his boy. She knew that while such +obligations rest lightly on some men, the tie that bound him to his son was +the biggest thing in his life. She had been near him long enough to learn +the secret things of his inner life. She was using them now to break down +the barriers of character and self-respect. He could see it plainly. He +hated her for it and yet the appeal went straight to his heart. + +Two things in this letter he couldn't get away from: + +"You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through." + +He kept reading this over. And the next line: + +"Please don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help now." + +The appeal was so human, so simple, so obviously sincere, no man with a +soul could ignore it. How could she help it now? She too had been swept +into the tragic situation by the blind forces of Nature. After all, had it +not been inevitable? Did not such a position of daily intimate physical +contact--morning, noon and night--mean just this? Could she have helped it? +Were they not both the victims, in a sense, of the follies of centuries? +Had he the right to be angry with her? + +His reason answered, no. And again came the deeper question--can any man +ever escape the consequences of his deeds? Deeds are of the infinite and +eternal and the smallest one disturbs the universe. It slowly began to dawn +on him that nothing he could ever do or say could change one elemental +fact. She was a mother--a fact bigger than all the forms and ceremonies of +the ages. It was just this thing in his history that made his sin against +the wife so poignant, both to her and to his imagination. A child was a +child, and he had no right to sneak and play a coward in such an hour. + +Step by step the woman's simple cry forced its way into the soul and slowly +but surely the rags were stripped from pride, until he began to see himself +naked and without sham. + +The one thing that finally cut deepest was the single sentence: "You see, I +didn't know how much I had gone through----" + +He read it again with a feeling of awe. No matter what the shade of her +olive cheek or the length of her curly hair, she was a mother with all that +big word means in the language of men. Say what he might--of her art in +leading him on, of her final offering herself in a hundred subtle ways in +their daily life in his home--he was still responsible. He had accepted the +challenge at last. + +And he knew what it meant to any woman under the best conditions, with a +mother's face hovering near and the man she loved by her side. He saw +again the scene of his boy's birth. And then another picture--a lonely girl +in a strange city without a friend--a cot in the whitewashed ward of a +city's hospital--a pair of startled eyes looking in vain for a loved, +familiar face as her trembling feet stepped falteringly down into the +valley that lies between Life and Death! + +A pitiful thing, this hour of suffering and of waiting for the unknown. + +His heart went out to her in sympathy, and he answered her letter with a +promise to come. But on the day he was to start for Baltimore mammy was +stricken with a cold which developed into pneumonia. Unaccustomed to the +rigors of a Northern climate, she had been careless and the result from the +first was doubtful. To leave her was, of course, impossible. + +He sent for a doctor and two nurses and no care or expense was spared, but +in spite of every effort she died. It was four weeks before he returned +from the funeral in the South. + +He reached Baltimore in a blinding snowstorm the week preceding Christmas. +Cleo had left the hospital three weeks previous to his arrival, and for +some unexplained reason had spent a week or ten days in Norfolk and +returned in time to meet him. + +He failed to find her at the address she had given him, but was directed to +an obscure hotel in another quarter of the city. + +He was surprised and puzzled at the attitude assumed at this meeting. She +was nervous, irritable, insolent and apparently anxious for a fight. + +"Well, why do you stare at me like that?" she asked angrily. + +"Was I staring?" he said with an effort at self-control. + +"After all I've been through the past weeks," she said bitterly, "I didn't +care whether I lived or died." + +"I meant to have come at once as I wrote you. But mammy's illness and death +made it impossible to get here sooner." + +"One excuse is as good as another," she retorted with a contemptuous toss +of her head. + +Norton looked at her in blank amazement. It was inconceivable that this was +the same woman who wrote him the simple, sincere appeal a few weeks ago. It +was possible, of course, that suffering had embittered her mind and reduced +her temporarily to the nervous condition in which she appeared. + +"Why do you keep staring at me?" she asked again, with insolent ill-temper. + +He was so enraged at her evident attempt to bully him into an attitude of +abject sympathy, he shot her a look of rage, seized his hat and without a +word started for the door. + +With a cry of despair she was by his side and grasped his arm: + +"Please--please don't!" + +"Change your tactics, then, if you have anything to say to me." + +She flushed, stammered, looked at him queerly and then smiled: + +"Yes, I will, major--please don't be mad at me! You see, I'm just a little +crazy. I've been through so much since I came here I didn't know what I was +saying to you. I'm awfully sorry--let me take your hat----" + +She took his hat, laid it on the table and led him to a seat. + +"Please sit down. I'm so glad you've come, and I thank you for coming. I'm +just as humble and grateful as I can be. You must forget how foolish I've +acted. I've been so miserable and scared and lonely, it's a wonder I +haven't jumped into the bay. And I just thought at last that you were never +coming." + +Norton looked at her with new astonishment. Not because there was anything +strange in what she said--he had expected some such words on his arrival, +but because they didn't ring true. She seemed to be lying. There was an +expression of furtive cunning in her greenish eyes that was uncanny. He +couldn't make her out. In spite of the effort to be friendly she was +repulsive. + +"Well, I'm here," he said calmly. "You have something to say--what is it?" + +"Of course," she answered smilingly. "I have a lot to say. I want you to +tell me what to do." + +"Anything you like," he answered bluntly. + +"It's nothing to you?" + +"I'll give you an allowance." + +"Is that all?" + +"What else do you expect?" + +"You don't want to see her?" + +"No." + +"I thought you were coming for that?" + +"I've changed my mind. And the less we see of each other the better. I'll +go with you to-morrow and verify the records----" + +Cleo laughed: + +"You don't think I'm joking about her birth?" + +"No. But I'm not going to take your word for it." + +"All right, I'll go with you to-morrow." + +He started again to the door. He felt that he must leave--that he was +smothering. Something about the girl's manner got on his nerves. Not only +was there no sort of sympathy or attraction between them but the longer he +stayed in her presence the more he felt the desire to choke her. He began +to look into her eyes with growing suspicion and hate, and behind their +smiling plausibility he felt the power of a secret deadly hostility. + +"You don't want me to go back home with the child, do you?" Cleo asked with +a furtive glance. + +"No, I do not," he replied, emphatically. + +"I'm going back--but I'll give her up and let you educate her in a convent +on one condition----" + +"What?" he asked sharply. + +"That you let me nurse the boy again and give me the protection and shelter +of your home----" + +"Never!" he cried. + +"Please be reasonable. It will be best for you and best for me and best for +her that her life shall never be blackened by the stain of my blood. I've +thought it all out. It's the only way----" + +"No," he replied sternly. "I'll educate her in my own way, if placed in my +hands without condition. But you shall never enter my house again----" + +"Is it fair," she pleaded, "to take everything from me and turn me out in +the world alone? I'll give your boy all the love of a hungry heart. He +loves me." + +"He has forgotten your existence----" + +"You know that he hasn't!" + +"I know that he has," Norton persisted with rising wrath. "It's a waste of +breath for you to talk to me about this thing"--he turned on her fiercely: + +"Why do you wish to go back there? To grin and hint the truth to your +friends?" + +"You know that I'd cut my tongue out sooner than betray you. I'd like to +scream it from every housetop--yes. But I won't. I won't, because you smile +or frown means too much to me. I'm asking this that I may live and work for +you and be your slave without money and without price----" + +"I understand," he broke in bitterly, "because you think that thus you can +again drag me down--well, you can't do it! The power you once had is +gone--gone forever--never to return----" + +"Then why be afraid? No one there knows except my mother. You hate me. All +right. I can do you no harm. I'll never hate you. I'll just be happy to +serve you, to love your boy and help you rear him to be a fine man. Let me +go back with you and open the old house again----" + +He lifted his hand with a gesture of angry impatience: + +"Enough of this now--you go your way in life and I go mine." + +"I'll not give her up except on my conditions----" + +"Then you can keep her and go where you please. If you return home you'll +not find me. I'll put the ocean between us if necessary----" + +He stepped quickly to the door and she knew it was needless to argue +further. + +"Come to my hotel to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and I'll make you a +settlement through a lawyer." + +"I'll be there," she answered in a low tone, "but please, major, before you +go let me ask you not to remember the foolish things I said and the way I +acted when you came. I'm so sorry--forgive me. I made you terribly mad. I +don't know what was the matter with me. Remember I'm just a foolish girl +here without a friend----" + +She stopped, her voice failing: + +"Oh, my God, I'm so lonely, I don't want to live! You don't know what it +means for me just to be near you--please let me go home with you!" + +There was something genuine in this last cry. It reached his heart in spite +of anger. He hesitated and spoke in kindly tones: + +"Good night--I'll see you in the morning." + +This plea of loneliness and homesickness found the weak spot in his armor. +It was so clearly the echo of his own feelings. The old home, with its +beautiful and sad memories, his people and his work had begun to pull +resistlessly. Her suggestion was a subtle and dangerous one, doubly +seductive because it was so safe a solution of difficulties. There was not +the shadow of a doubt that her deeper purpose was to ultimately dominate +his personal life. He was sure of his strength, yet he knew that the wise +thing to do was to refuse to listen. + +At ten o'clock next morning she came. He had called a lawyer and drawn up a +settlement that only waited her signature. + +She had not said she would sign--she had not positively refused. She was +looking at him with dumb pleading eyes. + +[Illustration: "He had heard the call of his people."] + +Without a moment's warning the boy pushed his way into the room. Norton +sprang before Cleo and shouted angrily to the nurse: + +"I told you not to let him come into this room----" + +"But you see I des tum!" the boy answered with a laugh as he darted to the +corner. + +The thing he dreaded had happened. In a moment the child saw Cleo. There +was just an instant's hesitation and the father smiled that he had +forgotten her. But the hesitation was only the moment of dazed surprise. +With a scream of joy he crossed the room and sprang into her arms: + +"Oh, Cleo--Cleo--my Cleo! You've tum--you've tum! Look, Daddy! She's +tum--my Cleo!" + +He hugged her, he kissed her, he patted her flushed cheeks, he ran his +little fingers through her tangled hair, drew himself up and kissed her +again. + +She snatched him to her heart and burst into uncontrollable sobs, raised +her eyes streaming with tears to Norton and said softly: + +"Let me go home with you!" + +He looked at her, hesitated and then slowly tore the legal document to +pieces, threw it in the fire and nodded his consent. + +But this time his act was not surrender. He had heard the call of his +people and his country. It was the first step toward the execution of a new +life purpose that had suddenly flamed in the depths of his darkened soul as +he watched the picture of the olive cheek of the woman against the clear +white of his child's. + + + + +Book Two--Atonement + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE NEW LIFE PURPOSE + + +Norton had been compelled to wait twenty years for the hour when he could +strike the first decisive blow in the execution of his new life purpose. + +But the aim he had set was so high, so utterly unselfish, so visionary, so +impossible by the standards of modern materialism, he felt the thrill of +the religious fanatic as he daily girded himself to his task. + +He was far from being a religious enthusiast, although he had grown a +religion of his own, inherited in part, dreamed in part from the depth of +his own heart. The first article of this faith was a firm belief in the +ever-brooding Divine Spirit and its guidance in the work of man if he but +opened his mind to its illumination. + +He believed, as in his own existence, that God's Spirit had revealed the +vision he saw in the hour of his agony, twenty years before when he had +watched his boy's tiny arms encircle the neck of Cleo, the tawny young +animal who had wrecked his life, but won the heart of his child. He had +tried to desert his people of the South and awaked with a shock. His mind +in prophetic gaze had leaped the years and seen the gradual wearing down of +every barrier between the white and black races by the sheer force of daily +contact under the new conditions which Democracy had made inevitable. + +Even under the iron laws of slavery it was impossible for an inferior and +superior race to live side by side for centuries as master and slave +without the breaking down of some of these barriers. But the moment the +magic principle of equality in a Democracy became the law of life they must +all melt or Democracy itself yield and die. He had squarely faced this big +question and given his life to its solution. + +When he returned to his old home and installed Cleo as his housekeeper and +nurse she was the living incarnation before his eyes daily of the problem +to be solved--the incarnation of its subtleties and its dangers. He studied +her with the cold intellectual passion of a scientist. Nor was there ever a +moment's uncertainty or halting in the grim purpose that fired his soul. + +She had at first accepted his matter of fact treatment as the sign of +ultimate surrender. And yet as the years passed she saw with increasing +wonder and rage the gulf between them deepen and darken. She tried every +art her mind could conceive and her effective body symbolize in vain. His +eyes looked at her, but never saw the woman. They only saw the thing he +hated--the mongrel breed of a degraded nation. + +He had begun his work at the beginning. He had tried to do the things that +were possible. The minds of the people were not yet ready to accept the +idea of a complete separation of the races. He planned for the slow process +of an epic movement. His paper, in season and out of season, presented the +daily life of the black and white races in such a way that the dullest mind +must be struck by the fact that their relations presented an insoluble +problem. Every road of escape led at last through a blind alley against a +blank wall. + +In this policy he antagonized no one, but expressed always the doubts and +fears that lurked in the minds of thoughtful men and women. His paper had +steadily grown in circulation and in solid power. He meant to use this +power at the right moment. He had waited patiently and the hour at last had +struck. + +The thunder of a torpedo under an American warship lying in Havana harbor +shook the Nation and changed the alignment of political parties. + +The war with Spain lasted but a few months, but it gave the South her +chance. Her sons leaped to the front and proved their loyalty to the flag. +The "Bloody Shirt" could never again be waved. The negro ceased to be a +ward of the Nation and the Union of States our fathers dreamed was at last +an accomplished fact. There could never again be a "North" or a "South." + +Norton's first brilliant editorial reviewing the results of this war drew +the fire of his enemies from exactly the quarter he expected. + +A little college professor, who aspired to the leadership of Southern +thought under Northern patronage, called at his office. + +The editor's lips curled with contempt as he read the engraved card: + + "Professor Alexander Magraw" + +The man had long been one of his pet aversions. He occupied a chair in one +of the state's leading colleges, and his effusions advocating peace at any +price on the negro problem had grown so disgusting of late the _Eagle and +Phoenix_ had refused to print them. + +Magraw was nothing daunted. He devoted his energies to writing a book in +fulsome eulogy of a notorious negro which had made him famous in the North. +He wrote it to curry favor with the millionaires who were backing this +African's work and succeeded in winning their boundless admiration. They +hailed him the coming leader of "advanced thought." As a Southern white man +the little professor had boldly declared that this negro, who had never +done anything except to demonstrate his skill as a beggar in raising a +million dollars from Northern sentimentalists, was the greatest human being +ever born in America! + +Outraged public opinion in the South had demanded his expulsion from the +college for this idiotic effusion, but he was so entrenched behind the +power of money he could not be disturbed. His loud protests for free speech +following his acquittal had greatly increased the number of his henchmen. + +Norton wondered at the meaning of his visit. It could only be a sinister +one. In view of his many contemptuous references to the man, he was amazed +at his audacity in venturing to invade his office. + +He scowled a long while at the card and finally said to the boy: + +"Show him in." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A MODERN SCALAWAG + + +As the professor entered the office Norton was surprised at his height and +weight. He had never met him personally, but had unconsciously formed the +idea that he was a scrub physically. + +He saw a man above the average height, weighing nearly two hundred, with +cheeks flabby but inclined to fat. It was not until he spoke that he caught +the unmistakable note of effeminacy in his voice and saw it clearly +reflected in his features. + +He was dressed with immaculate neatness and wore a tie of an extraordinary +shade of lavender which matched the silk hose that showed above his stylish +low-cut shoes. + +"Major Norton, I believe?" he said with a smile. + +The editor bowed without rising: + +"At your service, Professor Magraw. Have a seat, sir." + +"Thank you! Thank you!" the dainty voice murmured with so marked a +resemblance to a woman's tones that Norton was torn between two +impulses--one to lift his eyebrows and sigh, "Oh, splash!" and the other to +kick him down the stairs. He was in no mood for the amenities of polite +conversation, turned and asked bluntly: + +"May I inquire, professor, why you have honored me with this unexpected +call--I confess I am very curious?" + +"No doubt, no doubt," he replied glibly. "You have certainly not minced +matters in your personal references to me in the paper of late, Major +Norton, but I have simply taken it good-naturedly as a part of your day's +work. Apparently we represent two irreconcilable ideals of Southern +society----" + +"There can be no doubt about that," Norton interrupted grimly. + +"Yet I have dared to hope that our differences are only apparent and that +we might come to a better understanding." + +He paused, simpered and smiled. + +"About what?" the editor asked with a frown. + +"About the best policy for the leaders of public opinion to pursue to more +rapidly advance the interests of the South----" + +"And by 'interests of the South' you mean?" + +"The best interest of all the people without regard to race or color!" + +Norton smiled: + +"You forgot part of the pass-word of your order, professor! The whole +clause used to read, 'race, color or previous condition of servitude'----" + +The sneer was lost on the professor. He was too intent on his mission. + +"I have called, Major Norton," he went on glibly, "to inform you that my +distinguished associates in the great Educational Movement in the South +view with increasing alarm the tendency of your paper to continue the +agitation of the so-called negro problem." + +"And may I ask by whose authority your distinguished associates have been +set up as the arbiters of the destiny of twenty millions of white citizens +of the South?" + +The professor flushed with amazement at the audacity of such a question: + +"They have given millions to the cause of education, sir! These great Funds +represent to-day a power that is becoming more and more resistless----" + +Norton sprang to his feet and faced Magraw with eyes flashing: + +"That's why I haven't minced matters in my references to you, professor. +That's why I'm getting ready to strike a blow in the cause of racial purity +for which my paper stands." + +"But why continue to rouse the bitterness of racial feeling? The question +will settle itself if let alone." + +"How?" + +"By the process of evolution----" + +"Exactly!" Norton thundered. "And by that you mean the gradual breaking +down of racial barriers and the degradation of our people to a mongrel +negroid level or you mean nothing! No miracle of evolution can gloss over +the meaning of such a tragedy. The Negro is the lowest of all human forms, +four thousand years below the standard of the pioneer white Aryan who +discovered this continent and peopled it with a race of empire builders. +The gradual mixture of our blood with his can only result in the extinction +of National character--a calamity so appalling the mind of every patriot +refuses to accept for a moment its possibility." + +"I am not advocating such a mixture!" the professor mildly protested. + +"In so many words, no," retorted Norton; "yet you are setting in motion +forces that make it inevitable, as certain as life, as remorseless as +death. When you demand that the patriot of the South let the Negro alone to +work out his own destiny, you know that the mere physical contact of two +such races is a constant menace to white civilization----" + +The professor raised the delicate, tapering hands: + +"The old nightmare of negro domination is only a thing with which to +frighten children, major, the danger is a myth----" + +"Indeed!" Norton sneered. "When our people saw the menace of an emancipated +slave suddenly clothed with the royal power of a ballot they met this +threat against the foundations of law and order by a counter revolution and +restored a government of the wealth, virtue and intelligence of the +community. What they have not yet seen, is the more insidious danger that +threatens the inner home life of a Democratic nation from the physical +contact of two such races." + +"And you propose to prevent that contact?" the piping voice asked. + +"Yes." + +"And may I ask how?" + +"By an ultimate complete separation through a process covering perhaps two +hundred years----" + +The professor laughed: + +"Visionary--impossible!" + +"All right," Norton slowly replied. "I see the invisible and set myself to +do the impossible. Because men have done such things the world moves +forward not backward!" + +The lavender hose moved stealthily: + +"You will advocate this?" the professor asked. + +"In due time. The Southern white man and woman still labor under the old +delusion that the negro's lazy, slipshod ways are necessary and that we +could not get along without him----" + +"And if you dare to antagonize that faith?" + +"When your work is done, professor, and the glorious results of Evolution +are shown to mean the giving in marriage of our sons and daughters, my task +will be easy. In the mean time I'll do the work at hand. The negro is still +a voter. The devices by which he is prevented from using the power to which +his numbers entitle him are but temporary. The first real work before the +statesmen of the South is the disfranchisement of the African, the repeal +of the Fifteenth Amendment to our Constitution and the restoration of +American citizenship to its original dignity and meaning." + +"A large undertaking," the professor glibly observed. "And you will dare +such a program?" + +"I'll at least strike a blow for it. The first great crime against the +purity of our racial stock was the mixture of blood which the physical +contact of slavery made inevitable. + +"But the second great crime, and by far the most tragic and disastrous, was +the insane Act of Congress inspired by the passions of the Reconstruction +period by which a million ignorant black men, but yesterday from the +jungles of Africa, were clothed with the full powers of citizenship under +the flag of Democracy and given the right by the ballot to rule a superior +race. + +"The Act of Emancipation was a war measure pure and simple. By that act +Lincoln sought to strike the South as a political power a mortal blow. He +did not free four million negroes for sentimental reasons. He destroyed +four billion dollars' worth of property invested in slaves as an act of war +to save the Union. Nothing was further from his mind or heart than the mad +idea that these Africans could be assimilated into our National life. He +intended to separate the races and give the Negro a nation of his own. But +the hand of a madman struck the great leader down in the hour of his +supreme usefulness. + +"In the anarchy which followed the assassination of the President and the +attempt of a daring coterie of fanatics in Washington to impeach his +successor and create a dictatorship, the great crime against Democracy was +committed. Millions of black men, with the intelligence of children and the +instincts of savages, were given full and equal citizenship with the breed +of men who created the Republic. + +"Any plan to solve intelligently the problem of the races must first +correct this blunder from which a stream of poison has been pouring into +our life. + +"The first step in the work of separating the races, therefore, must be to +deprive the negro of this enormous power over Democratic society. It is not +a solution of the problem, but as the great blunder was the giving of this +symbol of American kingship, our first task is to take it from him and +restore the ballot to its original sanctity." + +"Your movement will encounter difficulties, I foresee!" observed the +professor with a gracious smile. + +He was finding his task with Norton easier than he anticipated. The +editor's madness was evidently so hopeless he had only to deliver his +ultimatum and close the interview. + +"The difficulties are great," Norton went on with renewed emphasis, "but +less than they have been for the past twenty years. Until yesterday the +negro was the ward of the Nation. Any movement by a Southern state to +remove his menace was immediately met by a call to arms to defend the Union +by Northern demagogues who had never smelled powder when the Union was in +danger. + +"A foolish preacher in Boston who enjoys a National reputation has been in +the habit of rousing his hearers to a round of cheers by stamping his foot, +lifting hands above his head and yelling: + +"'The only way to save the Union now is for Northern mothers to rear more +children than Southern mothers!' + +"And the sad part of it is that thousands of otherwise sane people in New +England and other sections of the North and West believed this idiotic +statement to be literally true. It is no longer possible to fool them with +such chaff----" + +The professor rose and shook out his finely creased trousers until the +lavender hose scarcely showed: + +"I am afraid, Major Norton, that it is useless for us to continue this +discussion. You are quite determined to maintain the policy of your paper +on this point?" + +"Quite." + +"I am sorry. The _Eagle and Phoenix_ is a very powerful influence in this +state. The distinguished associates whom I represent sent me in the vain +hope that I might persuade you to drop the agitation of this subject and +join with us in developing the material and educational needs of the +South----" + +Norton laughed aloud: + +"Really, professor?" + +The visitor flushed at the marked sneer in his tones, and fumbled his +lavender tie: + +"I can only deliver to you our ultimatum, therefore----" + +"You are clothed with sovereign powers, then?" the editor asked +sarcastically. + +"If you choose to designate them so--yes. Unless you agree to drop this +dangerous and useless agitation of the negro question and give our people a +hearing in the columns of your paper, I am authorized to begin at once the +publication of a journal that will express the best sentiment of the +South----" + +"So?" + +"And I have unlimited capital to back it." + +Norton's eyes flashed as he squared himself before the professor: + +"I've not a doubt of your backing. Start your paper to-morrow if you like. +You'll find that it takes more than money to build a great organ of public +opinion in the South. I've put my immortal soul into this plant. I'll watch +your experiment with interest." + +"Thank you! Thank you," the thin voice piped. + +"And now that we understand each other," Norton went on, "you've given me +the chance to say a few things to you and your associates I've been wanting +to express for a long time----" + +Norton paused and fixed his visitor with an angry stare: + +"Not only is the Negro gaining in numbers, in wealth and in shallow +'culture,' and tightening his grip on the soil as the owner in fee simple +of thousands of homes, churches, schools and farms, but a Negroid party has +once more developed into a powerful and sinister influence on the life of +this state! You and your associates are loud in your claims to represent a +new South. In reality you are the direct descendants of the Reconstruction +Scalawag and Carpetbagger. + +"The old Scalawag was the Judas Iscariot who sold his people for thirty +pieces of silver which he got by licking the feet of his conqueror and +fawning on his negro allies. The Carpetbagger was a Northern adventurer who +came South to prey on the misfortunes of a ruined people. A new and far +more dangerous order of Scalawags has arisen--the man who boldly preaches +the omnipotence of the dollar and weighs every policy of state or society +by one standard only, will it pay in dollars and cents? And so you frown on +any discussion of the tragic problem the negro's continued pressure on +Southern society involves because it disturbs business. + +"The unparalleled growth of wealth in the North has created our enormous +Poor Funds, organized by generous well-meaning men for the purpose of +education in the South. As a matter of fact, this new educational movement +had its origin in the same soil that established negro classical schools +and attempted to turn the entire black race into preachers, lawyers, and +doctors just after the war. Your methods, however, are wiser, although your +policies are inspired, if not directed, by the fertile brain of a notorious +negro of doubtful moral character. + +"The directors of your Poor Funds profess to be the only true friends of +the true white man of the South. By a 'true white man of the South' you +mean a man who is willing to show his breadth of vision by fraternizing +occasionally with negroes. + +"An army of lickspittles have begun to hang on the coat-tails of your +dispensers of alms. Their methods are always the same. They attempt to +attract the notice of the Northern distributors by denouncing men of my +type who are earnestly, fearlessly and reverently trying to face and solve +the darkest problem the centuries have presented to America. These little +beggars have begun to vie with one another not only in denouncing the +leaders of public opinion in the South, but in fulsome and disgusting +fawning at the feet of the individual negro whose personal influence +dominates these Funds." + +Again the lavender socks moved uneasily. + +"In which category you place the author of a certain book, I suppose?" +inquired the professor. + +"I paused in the hope that you might not miss my meaning," Norton replied, +smiling. "The astounding power for the debasement of public opinion +developing through these vast corruption funds is one of the most sinister +influences which now threatens Southern society. It is the most difficult +of all to meet because its protestations are so plausible and +philanthropic. + +"The Carpetbagger has come back to the South. This time he is not a low +adventurer seeking coin and public office. He is a philanthropist who +carries hundreds of millions of dollars to be distributed to the 'right' +men who will teach Southern boys and girls the 'right' ideas. So far as +these 'right' ideas touch the negro, they mean the ultimate complete +acceptance of the black man as a social equal. + +"Your chief spokesman of this New Order of Carpetbag, for example, has +declared on many occasions that the one thing in his life of which he is +most proud is the fact that he is the personal friend of the negro whose +influence now dominates your dispensers of alms! This man positively +grovels with joy when his distinguished black friend honors him by becoming +his guest in New York. + +"With growing rage and wonder I have watched the development of this modern +phenomenon. I have fought you with sullen and unyielding fury from the +first, and you have proven the most dangerous and insidious force I have +encountered. You profess the loftiest motives and the highest altruism +while the effects of your work can only be the degradation of the white +race to an ultimate negroid level, to say nothing of the appalling results +if you really succeed in pauperizing the educational system of the South! + +"I expected to hear from your crowd when the movement for a white ballot +was begun. Through you the society of Affiliated Black League Almoners of +the South, under the direction of your inspired negro leader, have sounded +the alarm. And now all the little pigs who are feeding on this swill, and +all the hungry ones yet outside the fence and squealing to get in, will +unite in a chorus that you hope can have but one result--the division of +the white race on a vital issue affecting its purity, its integrity, and +its future. + +"The possible division of my race in its attitude toward the Negro is the +one big danger that has always hung its ugly menace over the South. So long +as her people stand united, our civilization can be protected against the +pressure of the Negro's growing millions. But the moment a serious division +of these forces occurs the black man's opportunity will be at hand. The +question is, can you divide the white race on this issue?" + +"We shall see, major, we shall see," piped the professor, fumbling his +lavender tie and bowing himself out. + +The strong jaw closed with a snap as Norton watched the silk hose +disappear. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HIS HOUSE IN ORDER + + +Norton knew from the first that there could be no hope of success in such a +campaign as he had planned except in the single iron will of a leader who +would lead and whose voice lifted in impassioned appeal direct to the white +race in every county of the state could rouse them to resistless +enthusiasm. + +The man who undertook this work must burn the bridges behind him, ask +nothing for himself and take his life daily in his hands. He knew the state +from the sea to its farthest mountain peak and without the slightest vanity +felt that God had called him to this task. There was no other man who could +do it, no other man fitted for it. He had the training, bitter experience, +and the confidence of the people. And he had no ambitions save a deathless +desire to serve his country in the solution of its greatest and most +insoluble problem. He edited the most powerful organ of public opinion in +the South and he was an eloquent and forceful speaker. His paper had earned +a comfortable fortune, he was independent, he had the training of a veteran +soldier and physical fear was something he had long since ceased to know. + +And his house was in order for the event. He could leave for months in +confidence that the work would run with the smoothness of a clock. + +He had sent Tom to a Northern university which had kept itself clean from +the stain of negro associations. The boy had just graduated with honor, +returned home and was at work in the office. He was a handsome, clean, +manly, straight-limbed, wholesome boy, the pride of his father's heart, and +had shown decided talent for newspaper work. + +Andy had long since become his faithful henchman, butler and man of all +work. Aunt Minerva, his fat, honest cook, was the best servant he had ever +known, and Cleo kept his house. + +The one point of doubt was Cleo. During the past year she had given +unmistakable signs of a determination to fight. If she should see fit to +strike in the midst of this campaign, her blow would be a crushing one. It +would not only destroy him personally, it would confuse and crush his party +in hopeless defeat. He weighed this probability from every point of view +and the longer he thought it over the less likely it appeared that she +would take such a step. She would destroy herself and her child as well. +She knew him too well now to believe that he would ever yield in such a +struggle. Helen was just graduating from a convent school in the Northwest, +a beautiful and accomplished girl, and the last thing on earth she could +suspect was that a drop of negro blood flowed in her veins. He knew Cleo +too well, understood her hatred of negroes too well, to believe that she +would deliberately push this child back into a negroid hell merely to wreak +a useless revenge that would crush her own life as well. She was too wise, +too cunning, too cautious. + +And yet her steadily growing desperation caused him to hesitate. The thing +he dreaded most was the loss of his boy's respect, which a last desperate +fight with this woman would involve. The one thing he had taught Tom was +racial cleanness. With a wisdom inspired and guided by the brooding spirit +of his mother he had done this thoroughly. He had so instilled into this +proud, sensitive boy's soul a hatred for all low association with women +that it was inconceivable to him that any decent white man would stoop to +an intrigue with a woman of negro blood. The withering scorn, the +unmeasured contempt with which he had recently expressed himself to his +father on this point had made the red blood slowly mount to the older man's +face. + +He had rather die than look into this boy's clean, manly eyes and confess +the shame that would blacken his life. The boy loved him with a deep, +tender, reverent love. His keen eyes had long ago seen the big traits in +his father's character. The boy's genuine admiration was the sweetest thing +in his lonely life. + +He weighed every move with care and deliberately made up his mind to strike +the blow and take the chances. No man had the right to weigh his personal +career against the life of a people--certainly no man who dared to assume +the leadership of a race. He rose from his desk, opened the door of the +reporters' room and called Tom. + +The manly young figure, in shirt sleeves, pad and pencil in hand, entered +with quick, firm step. + +"You want me to interview you, Governor?" he said with a laugh. "All +right--now what do you think of that little scrimmage at the mouth of the +harbor of Santiago yesterday? How's that for a Fourth of July celebration? +I ask it of a veteran of the Confederate army?" + +The father smiled proudly as the youngster pretended to be taking notes of +his imaginary interview. + +"You heard, sir," he went on eagerly, "that your old General, Joe Wheeler, +was there and in a moment of excitement forgot himself and shouted to his +aid: + +"'There go the damned Yankees!--charge and give 'em hell!'" + +A dreamy look came into the father's eyes as he interrupted: + +"I shouldn't be surprised if Wheeler said it--anyhow, it's too good a joke +to doubt"--he paused and the smile on his serious face slowly faded. + +"Shut the door, Tom," he said with a gesture toward the reporters' room. + +The boy rose, closed the door, and sat down near his father's chair: + +"Well, Dad, why so serious? Am I to be fired without a chance? or is it +just a cut in my wages? Don't prolong the agony!" + +"I am going to put you in my chair in this office, my son," the father said +in a slow drawl. The boy flushed scarlet and then turned pale. + +"You don't mean it--now?" he gasped. + +"To-morrow." + +"You think I can make good?" The question came through trembling lips and +he was looking at his father through a pair of dark blue eyes blurred by +tears of excitement. + +"You'll do better than I did at your age. You're better equipped." + +"You think so?" Tom asked in quick boyish eagerness. + +"I know it." + +The boy sprang to his feet and grasped his father's hand: + +"Your faith in me is glorious--it makes me feel like I can do anything----" + +"You can--if you try." + +"Well, if I can, it's because I've got good blood in me. I owe it all to +you. You're the biggest man I ever met, Dad. I've wanted to say this to you +for a long time, but I never somehow got up my courage to tell you what I +thought of you." + +The father slipped his arm tenderly about the boy and looked out the window +at the bright Southern sky for a moment before he slowly answered: + +"I'd rather hear that from you, Tom, than the shouts of the rest of the +world." + +"I'm going to do my level best to prove myself worthy of the big faith +you've shown in me--but why have you done it? What does it mean?" + +"Simply this, my boy, that the time has come in the history of the South +for a leader to strike the first blow in the battle for racial purity by +establishing a clean American citizenship. I am going to disfranchise the +Negro in this state as the first step toward the ultimate complete +separation of the races." + +The boy's eyes flashed: + +"It's a big undertaking, sir." + +"Yes." + +"Is it possible?" + +"Many say not. That's why I'm going to do it. The real work must come after +this first step. Just now the campaign which I'm going to inaugurate +to-morrow in a speech at the mass meeting celebrating our victory at +Santiago, is the thing in hand. This campaign will take me away from home +for several months. I must have a man here whom I can trust implicitly." + +"I'll do my best, sir," the boy broke in. + +"In case anything happens to me before it ends----" + +Tom bent close: + +"What do you mean?" + +"You never can tell what may happen in such a revolution----" + +"It will be a revolution?" + +"Yes. That's what my enemies as yet do not understand. They will not be +prepared for the weapons I shall use. And I'll win. I may lose my life, but +I'll start a fire that can't be put out until it has swept the state--the +South"--he paused--"and then the Nation!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE MAN OF THE HOUR + + +The editor prepared to launch his campaign with the utmost care. He invited +the Executive Committee of his party to meet in his office. The leaders +were excited. They knew Norton too well to doubt that he had something big +to suggest. Some of them came from distant sections of the state, three +hundred miles away, to hear his plans. + +He faced the distinguished group of leaders calmly, but every man present +felt the deep undercurrent of excitement beneath his words. + +"With your coöperation, gentlemen," he began, "we are going to sweep the +state this time by an overwhelming majority----" + +"That's the way to talk!" the Chairman shouted. + +"Four years ago," he went on, "we were defeated for the first time since +the overthrow of the negro government under the Reconstruction régime. This +defeat was brought about by a division of the whites under the Socialistic +program of the Farmers' Alliance. Gradually the black man has forced +himself into power under the new régime. Our farmers only wished his votes +to accomplish their plans and have no use for him as an officeholder. The +rank and file of the white wing, therefore, of the allied party in power, +are ripe for revolt if the Negro is made an issue." + +The Committee cheered. + +"I propose to make the Negro the only issue of this campaign. There will be +no half-way measures, no puling hesitation, no weakness, and it will be a +fight to the death in the open. The day for secret organizations has gone +in Southern history. There is no Black League to justify a reorganization +of the Klan. But the new Black League has a far more powerful organization. +Its mask is now philanthropy, not patriotism. Its weapon is the lure of +gold, not the flash of Federal bayonets. They will fight to divide the +white race on this vital issue. + +"Here is our danger. It is real. It is serious. But we must meet it. There +is but one way, and that is to conduct a campaign of such enthusiasm, of +such daring and revolutionary violence if need be, that the little henchmen +and sycophants of the Dispensers of the National Poor Funds will be awed +into silence. + +"The leadership of such a campaign will be a dangerous one. I offer you my +services without conditions. I ask nothing for myself. I will accept no +honors. I offer you my time, my money, my paper, my life if need be!" + +The leaders rose as one man, grasped Norton's hand, and placed him in +command. + +No inkling of even the outlines of his radical program was allowed to leak +out until the hour of the meeting of the party convention. The delegates +were waiting anxiously for the voice of a leader who would sound the note +of victory. + +And when the platform was read to the convention declaring in simple, bold +words that the time had come for the South to undo the crime of the +Fifteenth Amendment, disfranchise the Negro and restore to the Nation the +basis of white civilization, a sudden cheer like a peal of thunder swept +the crowd, followed by the roar of a storm. It died away at last in waves +of excited comment, rose again and swelled and rose higher and higher until +the old wooden building trembled. + +Again and again such assemblies had declared in vague terms for "White +Supremacy." Campaign after campaign which followed the blight of negro rule +twenty years before had been fought and won on this issue. But no man or +party had dared to whisper what "White Supremacy" really meant. There was +no fog about this platform. For the first time in the history of the party +it said exactly what was meant in so many words. + +Thoughtful men had long been weary of platitudes on this subject. The Negro +had grown enormously in wealth, in numbers and in social power in the past +two decades. As a full-fledged citizen in a Democracy he was a constant +menace to society. Here, for the first time, was the announcement of a +definite program. It was revolutionary. It meant the revision of the +constitution of the Union and a challenge to the negro race, and all his +sentimental allies in the Republic for a fight to a finish. + +The effect of its bare reading was electric. The moment the Chairman tried +to lift his voice the cheers were renewed. The hearts of the people had +been suddenly thrilled by a great ideal. No matter whether it meant success +or failure, no matter whether it meant fame or oblivion for the man who +proposed it, every intelligent delegate in that hall knew instinctively +that a great mind had spoken a bold principle that must win in the end if +the Republic live. + +Norton rose at last to advocate its adoption as the one issue of the +campaign, and again pandemonium broke loose--now they knew that he had +written it! They suspected it from the first. Instantly his name was on a +thousand lips in a shout that rent the air. + +He stood with his tall figure drawn to its full height, his face unearthly +pale, wreathed in its heavy shock of iron-gray hair and waited, without +recognizing the tumult, until the last shout had died away. + +His speech was one of passionate and fierce appeal--the voice of the +revolutionist who had boldly thrown off the mask and called his followers +to battle. + +Yet through it all, the big unspoken thing behind his words was the magic +that really swayed his hearers. They felt that what he said was great, but +that he could say something greater if he would. As he had matured in years +he had developed this reserved power. All who came in personal touch with +the man felt it instinctively with his first word. An audience, with its +simpler collective intelligence, felt it overwhelmingly. Yet if he had +dared reveal to this crowd the ideas seething in his brain behind the +simple but bold political proposition, he could not have carried them with +him. They were not ready for it. He knew that to merely take the ballot +from the negro and allow him to remain in physical touch with the white +race was no solution of the problem. But he was wise enough to know that +but one step could be taken at a time in a great movement to separate +millions of blacks from the entanglements of the life of two hundred years. + +His platform expressed what he believed could be accomplished, and the +convention at the conclusion of his eloquent speech adopted it by +acclamation amid a scene of wild enthusiasm. + +He refused all office, except the position of Chairman of the Executive +Committee without pay, and left the hall the complete master of the +politics of his party. + +Little did he dream in this hour of triumph the grim tragedy the day's work +had prepared in his own life. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A WOMAN SCORNED + + +As the time drew near for Norton to take the field in the campaign whose +fierce passions would mark a new era in the state's history, his uneasiness +over the attitude of Cleo increased. + +She had received the announcement of his approaching long absence with +sullen anger. And as the purpose of the campaign gradually became clear she +had watched him with growing suspicion and hate. He felt it in every glance +she flashed from the depth of her greenish eyes. + +Though she had never said it in so many words, he was sure that the last +hope of a resumption of their old relations was fast dying in her heart, +and that the moment she realized that he was lost to her would be the +signal for a desperate attack. What form the attack would take he could +only guess. He was sure it would be as deadly as her ingenuity could +invent. Yet in the wildest flight of his imagination he never dreamed the +daring thing she had really decided to do. + +On the night before his departure he was working late in his room at the +house. The office he had placed in Tom's hands before the meeting of the +convention. The boy's eager young face just in front of him when he made +his speech that day had been an inspiration. It had beamed with pride and +admiration, and when his father's name rang from every lip in the great +shout that shook the building Tom's eyes had filled with tears. + +Norton was seated at his typewriter, which he had moved to his room, +writing his final instructions. The last lines he put in caps: + + "UNDER NO CONCEIVABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ANNOY ME WITH ANYTHING + THAT HAPPENS AT HOME, UNLESS A MATTER OF IMMEDIATE LIFE AND + DEATH, ANYTHING ELSE CAN WAIT UNTIL MY RETURN." + +He had just finished this important sentence when the sound of a footstep +behind his chair caused him to turn suddenly. + +Cleo had entered the room and stood glaring at him with a look of sullen +defiance. + +By a curious coincidence or by design, she was dressed in a scarlet kimono +of the same shade of filmy Japanese stuff as the one she wore in his young +manhood. His quick eye caught this fact in a flash and his mind took rapid +note of the changes the years had wrought. Their burdens had made slight +impression on her exhaustless vitality. Whatever might be her personality +or her real character, she was alive from the crown of her red head to the +tips of her slippered toes. + +Her attitude of tense silence sparkled with this vital power more +eloquently than when she spoke with quick energy in the deep voice that was +her most remarkable possession. + +Her figure was heavier by twenty pounds than when she had first entered his +home, but she never produced the impression of stoutness. Her form was too +sinuous, pliant and nervous to take on flesh. She was no longer the +graceful girl of eighteen whose beauty had drugged his senses, but she was +beyond all doubt a woman of an extraordinary type, luxuriant, sensuous, +dominant. There was not a wrinkle on her smooth creamy skin nor a trace of +approaching age about the brilliant greenish eyes that were gazing into his +now with such grim determination. + +He wheeled from his machine and faced her, his eyes taking in with a quick +glance the evident care with which she had arranged her hair and the +startling manner in which she was dressed. + +He spoke with sharp, incisive emphasis: + +"It was a condition of your return that you should never enter my room +while I am in this house." + +"I have not forgotten," she answered firmly, her eyes holding his steadily. + +"Why have you dared?" + +"You are still afraid of me?" she asked with a light laugh that was half a +sneer. + +"Have I given you any such evidence during the past twenty years?" + +There was no bitterness or taunt in the even, slow drawl with which he +spoke, but the woman knew that he never used the slow tone with which he +uttered those words except he was deeply moved. + +She flushed, was silent and then answered with a frown: + +"No, you haven't shown any fear for something more than twenty years--until +a few days ago." + +The last clause she spoke very quickly as she took a step closer and +paused. + +"A few days ago?" he repeated slowly. + +"Yes. For the past week you _have_ been afraid of me--not in the sense I +asked you just now perhaps"--her white teeth showed in two even perfect +rows--"but you have been watching me out of the corners of your +eyes--haven't you?" + +"Perhaps." + +"I wonder why?" + +"And you haven't guessed?" + +"No, but I'm going to find out." + +"You haven't asked." + +"I'm going to." + +"Be quick about it!" + +"I'm going to find out--that's why I came in here to-night in defiance of +your orders." + +"All right--the quicker the better!" + +"Thank you, I'm not in a hurry." + +"What do you want?" he demanded with anger. + +She smiled tauntingly: + +"It's no use to get mad about it! I'm here now, you see that I'm not afraid +of you and I'm quite sure that you will not put me out until I'm ready to +go----" + +He sprang to his feet and advanced on her: + +"I'm not so sure of that!" + +"Well, I am," she cried, holding his gaze steadily. + +He threw up his hands with a gesture of disgust and resumed his seat: + +"What is it?" + +She crossed the room deliberately, carrying a chair in front of her, sat +down, leaned her elbow on his table and studied him a moment, their eyes +meeting in a gaze of deadly hostility. + +"What is the meaning of this long absence you have planned?" + +"I have charge of this campaign. I am going to speak in every county in the +state." + +"Why?" + +"Because I'll win that way, by a direct appeal to the people." + +"Why do you want to win?" + +"Because I generally do what I undertake." + +"Why do you want to do this thing?" + +He looked at her in amazement. Her eyes had narrowed to the tiniest lines +as she asked these questions with a steadily increasing intensity. + +"What are you up to?" he asked her abruptly. + +"I want to know why you began this campaign at all?" + +"I decline to discuss the question with you," he answered abruptly. + +"I insist on it!" + +"You wouldn't know what I was talking about," he replied with contempt. + +"I think I would." + +"Bah!" + +He turned from her with a wave of angry dismissal, seized his papers and +began to read again his instructions to Tom. + +"I'm not such a fool as you think," she began menacingly. "I've read your +platform with some care and I've been thinking it over at odd times since +your speech was reported." + +"And you contemplate entering politics?" he interrupted with a smile. + +"Who knows?" + +She watched him keenly while she slowly uttered these words and saw the +flash of uneasiness cross his face, "But don't worry," she laughed. + +"I'll not!" + +"You may for all that!" she sneered, "but I'll not enter politics as you +fear. That would be too cheap. I don't care what you do to negroes. I've a +drop of their blood in me----" + +"One in eight, to be exact." + +"But I'm not one of them, except by your laws, and I hate the sight of a +negro. You can herd them, colonize them, send them back to Africa or to the +devil for all I care. Your program interests me for another reason"--she +paused and watched him intently. + +"Yes?" he said carelessly. + +"It interests me for one reason only--you wrote that platform, you made +that speech, you carried that convention. Your man Friday is running for +Governor. You are going to take the stump, carry this election and take the +ballot from the Negro!" + +"Well?" + +"I'm excited about it merely because it shows the inside of your mind." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes. It shows either that you are afraid of me or that you're not----" + +"It couldn't well show both," he interrupted with a sneer. + +"It might," she answered. "If you are afraid of me and my presence is the +cause of this outburst, all right. I'll still play the game with you and +win or lose. I'll take my chances. But if you're not afraid of me, if +you've really not been on your guard for twenty years, it means another +thing. It means that you've learned your lesson, that the book of the past +is closed, and that you have simply been waiting for the time to come to +do this thing and save your people from a danger before which you once +fell." + +"And which horn of the dilemma do you take?" he asked coldly. + +"I haven't decided--but I will to-night." + +"How interesting!" + +"Yes, isn't it?" she leaned close. "With a patience that must have caused +you wonder, with a waiting through years as God waits, I have endured your +indifference, your coldness, your contempt. Each year I have counted the +last that you could resist the call of my body and soul, and at the end of +each year I have seen you further and further away from me and the gulf +between us deeper and darker. This absence you have planned in this +campaign means the end one way or the other. I'm going to face life now as +it is, not as I've hoped it might be." + +"I told you when you made your bargain to return to this house, that there +could be nothing between us except a hate that is eternal----" + +"And I didn't believe it! Now I'm going to face it if I must----" + +She paused, breathed deeply and her eyes were like glowing coals as she +slowly went on: + +"I'm not the kind to give up without a fight. I've lived and learned the +wisdom of caution and cunning. I'm not old and I've still a fool's +confidence in my powers. I'm not quite thirty-nine, strong and sound in +body and spirit, alive to my finger tips with the full blood of a grown +woman--and so I warn you----" + +"You warn me"--he cried with a flush of anger. + +"Yes. I warn you not to push me too far. I have negro blood in me, but I'm +at least human, and I'm going to be treated as a human being." + +"And may I ask what you mean by that?" he asked sarcastically. + +"That I'm going to demand my rights." + +"Demand?" + +"Exactly." + +"Your _rights_?" + +"The right to love----" + +Norton broke into a bitter, angry laugh: + +"Are you demanding that I marry you?" + +"I'm not quite that big a fool. No. Your laws forbid it. All right--there +are higher laws than yours. The law that drew you to me in this room twenty +years ago, in spite of all your fears and your prejudices"--she paused and +her eyes glowed in the shadows--"I gave you my soul and body then----" + +"Gifts I never sought----" + +"Yet you took them and I'm here a part of your life. What are you going to +do with me? I'm not the negro race. I'm just a woman who loves you and asks +that you treat her fairly." + +"Treat you fairly! Did I ever want you? Or seek you? You came to me, thrust +yourself into my office, and when I discharged you, pushed your way into my +home. You won my boy's love and made my wife think you were indispensable +to her comfort and happiness. I tried to avoid you. It was useless. You +forced yourself into my presence at all hours of the day and night. What +happened was your desire, not mine. And when I reproached myself with +bitter curses you laughed for joy! And you talk to me to-day of fairness! +You who dragged me from that banquet hall the night of my triumph to hurl +me into despair! You who blighted my career and sent me blinded with grief +and shame groping through life with the shadow of death on my soul! You who +struck your bargain of a pound of flesh next to my heart, and fought your +way back into my house again to hold me a prisoner for life, chained to the +dead body of my shame--you talk to me about fairness--great God!" + +He stopped, strangled with passion, his tall figure towering above her, his +face livid, his hands clutched in rage. + +She laughed hysterically: + +"Why don't you strike! I'm not your equal in strength--I dare you to do +it--I dare you to do it! I _dare_ you--do you hear?" + +With a sudden grip she tore the frail silk from its fastenings at her +throat, pressed close and thrust her angry face into his in a desperate +challenge to physical violence. + +His eyes held hers a moment and his hands relaxed: + +"I'd like to kill you. I could do it with joy!" + +"Why don't you?" + +"You're not worth the price of such a crime!" + +"You'd just as well do it, as to wish it. Don't be a coward!" Her eyes +burned with suppressed fire. + +He looked at her with cold anger and his lip twitched with a smile of +contempt. + +The strain was more than her nerves could bear. With a sob she threw her +arms around his neck. He seized them angrily, her form collapsed and she +clung to him with blind hysterical strength. + +He waited a moment and spoke in quiet determined tones: + +[Illustration: "'I _dare_ you--do you hear?'"] + +"Enough of this now." + +She raised her eyes to his, pleading with desperation: + +"Please be kind to me just this last hour before you go, and I'll be +content if you give no more. I'll never intrude again." + +She relaxed her hold, dropped to a seat and covered her face with her +hands: + +"Oh, my God! Are you made of stone--have you no pity? Through all these +years I've gone in and out of this house looking into your face for a sign +that you thought me human, and you've given none. I've lived on the +memories of the few hours when you were mine. I've sometimes told myself it +was just a dream, that it never happened--until I've almost believed it. +You've pretended that it wasn't true. You've strangled these memories and +told yourself over and over again that it never happened. I've seen you +doing this--seen it in your cold, deep eyes. Well, it's a lie! You were +mine! You shall not forget it--you can't forget it--I won't let you, I tell +you!" + +The voice broke again into sobs. + +He stood with arms folded, watching her in silence. Her desperate appeal to +his memories and his physical passion had only stirred anger and contempt. +He was seeing now as he had never noticed before the growing marks of her +negroid character. The anger was for her, the contempt for himself. He +noticed the growth of her lips with age, the heavy sensual thickness of the +negroid type! + +It was inconceivable that in this room the sight of her had once stirred +the Beast in him to incontrollable madness. There was at least some +consolation in the fact that he had made progress. He couldn't see this if +he hadn't moved to a higher plane. + +He spoke at length in quiet tones: + +"I am waiting for you to go. I have work to do to-night." + +She rose with a quick, angry movement: + +"It's all over, then. There's not a chance that you'll change your mind?" + +"Not if you were the last woman on earth and I the last man." + +He spoke without bitterness but with a firmness that was final. + +"All right. I know what to expect now and I'll plan my own life." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That there's going to be a change in my relations to your servants for one +thing." + +"Your relations to my servants?" he repeated incredulously. + +"Yes." + +"In what respect?" + +"I'm not going to take any more insolence from Minerva----" + +"Keep out of the kitchen and let her alone. She's the best cook I ever +had." + +"If I keep this house for you, I demand the full authority of my position. +I'll hire the servants and discharge them when I choose." + +"You'll do nothing of the kind," he answered firmly. + +"Then I demand that you discharge Minerva and Andy at once." + +"What's the matter with Andy?" + +"I loathe him." + +"Well, I like him, and he's going to stay. Anything else?" + +"You'll pay no attention to my wishes?" + +"I'm master of this house." + +"And in your absence?" + +"My son will be here." + +"All right, I understand now." + +"If I haven't made it plain, I'll do so." + +"Quite clear, thank you," she answered slowly. + +Norton walked to the mantel, leaned his elbow on the shelf for a moment, +returned and confronted her with his hands thrust into his pockets, his +feet wide apart, his whole attitude one of cool defiance. + +"Now I want to know what you're up to? These absurd demands are a blind. +They haven't fooled me. There's something else in the back of your devilish +mind. What is it? I want to know exactly what you mean?" + +Cleo laughed a vicious little ripple of amusement: + +"Yes, I know you do--but you won't!" + +"All right, as you please. A word from you and Helen's life is blasted. A +word from you and I withdraw from this campaign, and another will lead it. +Speak that word if you dare, and I'll throw you out of this house and your +last hold on my life is broken." + +"I've thought of that, too," she said with a smile. + +"It will be worth the agony I'll endure," he cried, "to know that I'm free +of you and breathe God's clean air at last!" + +He spoke the words with an earnestness, a deep and bitter sincerity, that +was not lost on her keen ears. + +She started to reply, hesitated and was silent. + +He saw his advantage and pressed it: + +"I want you to understand fully that I know now and I have always known +that I am at your mercy when you see fit to break the word you pledged. Yet +there has never been a moment during the past twenty years that I've been +really afraid of you. When the hour comes for my supreme humiliation, I'll +meet it. Speak as soon as you like." + +She had walked calmly to the door, paused and looked back: + +"You needn't worry, major," she said smoothly, "I'm not quite such a fool +as all that. I've been silent too many years. It's a habit I'll not easily +break." Her white teeth gleamed in a cold smile as she added: + +"Good night." + +A hundred times he told himself that she wouldn't dare, but he left home +next lay with a sickening fear slowly stealing into his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +AN OLD COMEDY + + +Norton had scarcely passed his gate on the way to catch the train when Cleo +left the window, where her keen eyes had been watching, and made her way +rapidly to the room he had just vacated. + +Books and papers were scattered loosely over his table beside the +typewriter which he had, with his usual carelessness, left open. + +With a quick decision she seated herself beside the machine and in two +hours sufficiently mastered its use to write a letter by using a single +finger and carefully touching the keys one by one. + +The light of a cunning purpose burned in her eyes as she held up the letter +which she had written on a sheet paper with the embossed heading of his +home address at the top. + +She re-read it, smiling over the certainty of the success of her plan. The +letter was carefully and simply worded: + + "MY DEAR MISS HELEN: + + "As your guardian is still in Europe, I feel it my duty, and + a pleasant one, to give you a glimpse of the South before + you go abroad. Please come at once to my home for as long as + you care to stay. If I am away in the campaign when you + arrive, my son and housekeeper, Cleo, will make you at home + and I trust happy. + + "With kindest regards, and hoping to see you soon, + + "Sincerely, + + "DANIEL NORTON." + + + +The signature she practiced with a pen for half an hour until her imitation +was almost perfect and then signed it. Satisfied with the message, she +addressed an envelope to "Miss Helen Winslow, Convent of the Sacred Heart, +Racine, Wisconsin," sealed and posted it with her own hand. + +The answer came six days later. Cleo recognized the post mark at once, +broke the seal and read it with dancing eyes: + + "MY DEAR MAJOR NORTON: + + "I am wild with joy over your kind invitation. As my last + examinations are over I will not wait for the Commencement + exercises. I am so excited over this trip I just can't wait. + I am leaving day after to-morrow and hope to arrive almost + as soon as this letter. + + "With a heart full of gratitude, + + "Your lonely ward, + + "HELEN." + + + +Two days later a hack rolled up the graveled walk to the white porch, a +girl leaped out and bounded up the steps, her cheeks flushed, her wide open +blue eyes dancing with excitement. + +She was evidently surprised to find that Cleo was an octoroon, blushed and +extended her hand with a timid hesitating look: + +"This--this--is Cleo--the major's housekeeper?" she asked. + +The quick eye of the woman took in at a glance the charm of the shy +personality and the loneliness of the young soul that looked out from her +expressive eyes. + +"Yes," she answered mechanically. + +"I'm so sorry that the major's away--the driver told me----" + +"Oh, it's all right," Cleo said with a smile, "he wrote us to make you feel +at home. Just walk right in, your room is all ready." + +"Thank you so much," Helen responded, drawing a deep breath and looking +over the lawn with its green grass, its dense hedges and wonderful clusters +of roses in full bloom. "How beautiful the South is--far more beautiful +than I had dreamed! And the perfume of these roses--why, the air is just +drowsy with their honey! We have gorgeous roses in the North, but I never +smelled them in the open before"--she paused and breathed deeply again and +again--"Oh, it's fairyland--I'll never want to go!" + +"I hope you won't," Cleo said earnestly. + +"The major asked me to stay as long as I wished. I have his letter +here"--she drew the letter from her bag and opened it--"see what he says: +'Please come at once to my home for as long as you can stay'--now wasn't +that sweet of him?" + +"Very," was the strained reply. + +The girl's sensitive ear caught the queer note in Cleo's voice and looked +at her with a start. + +"Come, I must show you to your room," she added, hurriedly opening the door +for Helen to pass. + +The keen eyes of the woman were scanning the girl and estimating her +character with increasing satisfaction. She walked with exquisite grace. +Her figure was almost the exact counterpart of her own at twenty--Helen's +a little fuller, the arms larger but more beautiful. The slender wrists and +perfectly moulded hand would have made a painter beg for a sitting. Her +eyes were deep blue and her hair the richest chestnut brown, massive and +slightly waving, her complexion the perfect white and red of the Northern +girl who had breathed the pure air of the fields and hills. The sure, +swift, easy way in which she walked told of perfect health and exhaustless +vitality. Her voice was low and sweet and full of shy tenderness. + +A smile of triumph flashed from Cleo's greenish eyes as she watched her +swiftly cross the hall toward the stairs. + +"I'll win!" she exclaimed softly. + +Helen turned sharply. + +"Did you speak to me?" she asked blushing. + +"No. I was just thinking aloud." + +"Excuse me, I thought you said something to me--" + +"It would have been something very nice if I had," Cleo said with a +friendly smile. + +"Thank you--oh, I feel that I'm going to be so happy here!" + +"I hope so." + +"When do you think the major will come?" + +The woman's face clouded in spite of her effort at self-control: + +"It may be a month or more." + +"Oh, I'm so anxious to see him! He has been acting for my old guardian, who +is somewhere abroad, ever since I can remember. I've begged and begged him +to come to see me, but he never came. It was so far away, I suppose. He +never even sent me his picture, though I've asked him often. What sort of a +man is he?" + +Cleo smiled and hesitated, and then spoke with apparent carelessness: + +"A very striking looking man." + +"With a kind face?" + +"A very stern one, clean shaven, with deep set eyes, a firm mouth, a strong +jaw that can be cruel when he wishes, a shock of thick iron gray hair, +tall, very tall and well built. He weighs two hundred and fifteen now--he +was very thin when young." + +"And his voice?" + +"Gentle, but sometimes hard as steel when he wishes it to be." + +"Oh, I'll be scared to death when I see him! I had pictured him just the +opposite." + +"How?" + +"Why, I hardly know--but I thought his voice would be always gentle like I +imagine a Southern father's who loved his children very much. And I thought +his hair would be blonde, with a kind face and friendly laughing +eyes--blue, like mine. His eyes aren't blue?" + +"Dark brown." + +"I know I'll run when he comes." + +"We'll make you feel at home and you'll not be afraid. Mr. Tom will be here +to lunch in a few minutes and I'll introduce you." + +"Then I must dress at once!" + +"The first door at the head of the stairs--your trunk has already been +taken up." + +Cleo watched the swift, strong, young form mount the stairs. + +"It's absolutely certain!" she cried under her breath. "I'll win--I'll +win!" + +She broke into a low laugh and hurried to set the table in a bower of the +sweetest roses that were in bloom. Their languorous odor filled the house. + +Helen was waiting in the old-fashioned parlor when Tom's step echoed on the +stoop. Cleo hurried to meet him on the porch. + +His face clouded with a scowl: + +"She's here?" + +"Yes, Mr. Handsome Boy," Cleo answered cheerfully. "And lunch is ready--do +rub that awful scowl off your face and look like you're glad." + +"Well, I'm not--so what's the use? It'll be a mess to have a girl on my +hands day and night and I've got no time for it. I wish Dad was here. I +know I'll hate the sight of her." + +Cleo smiled: + +"Better wait until you see her." + +"Where is she?" + +"In the parlor." + +"All right--the quicker a disagreeable job's over the better." + +"Shall I introduce you?" + +"No, I'll do it myself," he growled, bracing himself for the ordeal. + +As he entered the door he stopped short at the vision as Helen sprang to +her feet and came to meet him. She was dressed in the softest white filmy +stuff, as light as a feather, bare arms and neck, her blue eyes sparkling +with excitement, her smooth, fair cheeks scarlet with blushes. + +The boy's heart stopped beating in sheer surprise. He expected a frowzy +little waif from an orphanage, blear-eyed, sad, soulful and tiresome. + +This shining, blushing, wonderful creature took his breath. He stared at +first with open mouth, until Cleo's laugh brought him to his senses just as +he began to hear Helen's low sweet voice: + +"And this is Mr. Tom, I suppose? I am Helen Winslow, your father's ward, +from the West--at least he's all the guardian I've ever known." + +Tom grasped the warm little hand extended in so friendly greeting and held +it in dazed surprise until Cleo's low laughter again roused him. + +"Yes--I--I--am delighted to see you, Miss Helen, and I'm awfully sorry my +father couldn't be here to welcome you. I--I'll do the best I can for you +in his absence." + +"Oh, thank you," she murmured. + +"You know you're not at all like I expected to find you," he said +hesitatingly. + +"I hope I haven't disappointed you," she answered demurely. + +"No--no"--he protested--"just the opposite." + +He stopped and blushed for fear he'd said too much. + +"And you're just the opposite from what I'd pictured you since Cleo told me +how your father looks." + +"And what did you expect?" he asked eagerly. + +"A stern face, dark hair, dark eyes and a firm mouth." + +"And you find instead?" + +Helen laughed: + +"I'm afraid you love flattery." + +Tom hurried to protest: + +"Really, I wasn't fishing for a compliment, but I'm so unlike my father, +it's a joke. I get my blonde hair and blue eyes from my mother and my +great-grandfather." + +Before he knew what was happening Tom was seated by her side talking and +laughing as if they had known each other a lifetime. + +Helen paused for breath, put her elbow on the old mahogany table, rested +her dimpled chin in the palm of her pretty hand and looked at Tom with a +mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes. + +"What's the joke?" he asked. + +"Do you know that you're the first boy I ever talked to in my life?" + +"No--really?" he answered incredulously. + +"Don't you think I do pretty well?" + +"Perfectly wonderful!" + +"You see, I've played this scene so many times in my day dreams----" + +"And it's like your dream?" + +"Remarkably!" + +"How?" + +"You're just the kind of boy I always thought I'd meet first----" + +"How funny!" + +"Yes, exactly," she cried excitedly and with a serious tone in her voice +that was absolutely convincing. "You're so jolly and friendly and easy to +talk to, I feel as if I've known you all my life." + +"And I feel the same--isn't it funny?" + +They both laughed immoderately. + +"Come," the boy cried, "I want to show you my mother's and my grandfather's +portraits in the library. You'll see where I get my silly blonde hair, my +slightly pug nose and my very friendly ways." + +She rose with a laugh: + +"Your nose isn't pug, it's just good-humored." + +"Amount to the same thing." + +"And your hair is very distinguished looking for a boy. I'd envy it, if it +were a girl's." + +Tom led the way into the big, square library which opened on the pillared +porch both on the rear and on the side of the house. Before the fireplace +he paused and pointed to his mother's portrait done in oil by a famous +artist in New York. + +It was life-size and the canvas filled the entire space between the two +fluted columns of the Colonial mantel which reached to the ceiling. The +woodwork of the mantelpiece was of dark mahogany and the background of the +portrait the color of bright gold which seemed to melt into the lines of +the massive smooth gilded frame. + +The effect was wonderfully vivid and life-like in the sombre coloring of +the book-lined walls. The picture and frame seemed a living flame in its +dark setting. The portrait was an idealized study of the little mother. The +artist had put into his canvas the spirit of the tenderest brooding +motherhood. The very curve of her arms holding the child to her breast +seemed to breathe tenderness. The smile that played about her delicate lips +and blue eyes was ethereal in its fleeting spirit beauty. + +The girl caught her breath in surprise: + +"What a wonderful picture--it's perfectly divine! I feel like kneeling +before it." + +"It is an altar," the boy said reverently. "I've seen my father sit in that +big chair brooding for hours while he looked at it. And ever since he put +those two old gold candlesticks in front of it I can't get it out of my +head that he slips in here, kneels in the twilight and prays before it." + +"He must have loved your mother very tenderly," she said softly. + +"I think he worships her still," the boy answered simply. + +"Oh, I could die for a man like that!" she cried with sudden passion. + +Tom pointed to his grandfather's portrait: + +"And there you see my distinguished features and my pug nose----" + +Cleo appeared in the door smiling: + +"I've been waiting for you to come to lunch, Mr. Boy, for nearly an hour." + +"Well, for heaven's sake, why didn't you let us know?" + +"I told you it was ready when you came." + +"Forgot all about it." + +He was so serenely unconscious of anything unusual in his actions that he +failed to notice the smile that continuously played about Cleo's mouth or +to notice Andy's evident enjoyment of the little drama as he bowed and +scraped and waited on the table with unusual ceremony. + +Aunt Minerva, hearing Andy's report of the sudden affair that had developed +in the major's absence, left the kitchen and stood in the door a moment, +her huge figure completely filling the space while she watched the +unconscious boy and girl devouring each other with sparkling eyes. + +She waved her fat hand over their heads to Andy, laughed softly and left +without their noticing her presence. + +The luncheon was the longest one that had been known within the memory of +anyone present. Minerva again wandered back to the door, fascinated by the +picture they made, and whispered to Andy as he passed: + +"Well, fer de Lawd's sake, is dey gwine ter set dar all day?" + +"Nobum--'bout er nodder hour, an' he'll go back ter de office." + +Tom suddenly looked at his watch: + +"Heavens! I'm late. I'll run down to the office and cut the work out for +the day in honor of your coming." + +Helen rose blushing: + +"Oh, I'm afraid I'll make trouble for you." + +"No trouble at all! I'll be back in ten minutes." + +"I'll be on the lawn in that wilderness of roses. The odor is +maddening--it's so sweet." + +"All right--and then I'll show you the old rose garden the other side of +the house." + +"It's awfully good of you, but I'm afraid I'm taking your time from work." + +"It's all right! I'll make the other fellows do it to-day." + +She blushed again and waved her bare arm high over her dark brown hair from +the porch as he swung through the gate and disappeared. + +In a few minutes he had returned. Through the long hours of a beautiful +summer afternoon they walked through the enchanted paths of the old garden +on velvet feet, the boy pouring out his dreams and high ambitions, the +girl's lonely heart for the first time in life basking in the joyous light +of a perfect day. + +Andy made an excuse to go in the garden and putter about some flowers just +to watch them, laugh and chuckle over the exhibition. He was just in time +as he softly approached behind a trellis of climbing roses to hear Tom +say: + +"Please give me that bud you're wearing?" + +"Why?" she asked demurely. + +"Just because I've taken a fancy to it." + +She blushed scarlet, took the rosebud from her bosom and pinned it on his +coat: + +"All right--there!" + +Andy suppressed a burst of laughter and hurried back to report to Minerva. + +For four enchanted weeks the old comedy of life was thus played by the boy +and girl in sweet and utter unconsciousness of its meaning. He worked only +in the mornings and rushed home for lunch unusually early. The afternoon +usually found them seated side by side slowly driving over the quiet +country roads. Two battlefields of the civil war, where his father had led +a regiment of troops in the last desperate engagement with Sherman's army +two weeks after Lee had surrendered at Appomattox, kept them busy each +afternoon for a week. + +At night they sat on the moonlit porch behind the big pillars and he talked +to her of the great things of life with simple boyish enthusiasm. Sometimes +they walked side by side through the rose-scented lawn and paused to hear +the love song of a mocking-bird whose mate was busy each morning teaching +her babies to fly. + +The world had become a vast rose garden of light and beauty, filled with +the odors of flowers and spices and dreamy strains of ravishing music. + +And behind it all, nearer crept the swift shadow whose tread was softer +than the foot of a summer's cloud. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TRAPPED + + +Norton's campaign during its first months was a continuous triumph. The +opposition had been so completely stunned by the epoch-making declaration +of principles on which he had chosen to conduct the fight that they had as +yet been unable to rally their forces. Even the rival newspaper, founded to +combat the ideas for which the _Eagle and Phoenix_ stood, was compelled to +support Norton's ticket to save itself from ruin. The young editor found a +source of endless amusement in taunting the professor on this painful fact. + +The leader had chosen to begin his tour of the state in the farthest +mountain counties that had always been comparatively free from negro +influence. These counties were counted as safe for the opposition before +the startling program of the editor's party had been announced. Yet from +the first day's mass meeting which he had addressed an enthusiasm had been +developed under the spell of Norton's eloquence that had swept the crowds +of mountaineers off their feet. They had never been slave owners, and they +had no use for a negro as servant, laborer, voter, citizen, or in any other +capacity. The idea of freeing the state forever from their baleful +influence threw the entire white race into solid ranks supporting his +ticket. + +The enthusiasm kindled in the mountains swept the foothills, gaining +resistless force as it reached the more inflammable feelings of the people +of the plains who were living in daily touch with the negro. + +Yet amid all the scenes of cheering and enthusiasm through which he was +passing daily the heart of the leader was heavy with dread. His mind was +brooding over the last scene with Cleo and its possible outcome. + +He began to worry with increasing anguish over the certainty that when she +struck the blow would be a deadly one. The higher the tide of his triumph +rose, the greater became the tension of his nerves. Each day had its +appointment to speak. Some days were crowded with three or four +engagements. These dates were made two weeks ahead and great expense had +been incurred in each case to advertise them and secure record crowds. It +was a point of honor with him to make good these dates even to the smallest +appointment at a country crossroads. + +It was impossible to leave for a trip home. It would mean the loss of at +least four days. Yet his anxiety at last became so intense that he +determined to rearrange his dates and swing his campaign into the territory +near the Capital at once. It was not a good policy. He would risk the loss +of the cumulative power of his work now sweeping from county to county, a +resistless force. But it would enable him to return home for a few hours +between his appointments. + +There had been nothing in Tom's reports to arouse his fears. The boy had +faithfully carried out his instructions to give no information that might +annoy him. His brief letters were bright, cheerful, and always closed with +the statement: "Everything all right at home, and I'm still jollying the +professor about supporting the cause he hates." + +When he reached the county adjoining the Capital his anxiety had reached a +point beyond endurance. It would be three days before he could connect with +a schedule of trains that would enable him to get home between the time of +his hours to speak. He simply could not wait. + +He telegraphed to Tom to send Andy to the meeting next day with a bound +volume of the paper for the year 1866 which contained some facts he wished +to use in his speech in this district. + +Andy's glib tongue would give him the information he needed. + +The train was late and the papers did not arrive in time. He was compelled +to leave his hotel and go to the meeting without them. + +An enormous crowd had gathered. And for the first time on his tour he felt +hostility in the glances that occasionally shot from groups of men as he +passed. The county was noted for its gangs of toughs who lived on the edge +of a swamp that had been the rendezvous of criminals for a century. + +The opposition had determined to make a disturbance at this meeting and if +possible end it with a riot. They counted on the editor's fiery temper when +aroused to make this a certainty. They had not figured on the cool audacity +with which he would meet such a situation. + +When he reached the speaker's stand, the county Chairman whispered: + +"They are going to make trouble here to-day." + +"Yes?" + +"They've got a speaker who's going to demand a division of time." + +The editor smiled: + +"Really?" + +"Yes," the Chairman said, nodding toward a tall, ministerial-looking +individual who was already working his way through the crowd. "That's the +fellow coming now." + +Norton turned and confronted the chosen orator of the opposition, a +backwoods preacher of a rude native eloquence whose name he had often +heard. + +He saw at a glance that he was a man of force. His strong mouth was clean +of mustache and the lower lip was shaved to the chin. A long beard covered +the massive jaws and his hair reached the collar of his coat. He had been a +deserter during the war, and a drunken member of the little Scalawag +Governor's famous guard that had attempted to rule the state without the +civil law. He had been converted in a Baptist revival at a crossroads +meeting place years before and became a preacher. His religious conversion, +however, had not reached his politics or dimmed his memory of the events of +Reconstruction. + +He had hated Norton with a deep and abiding fervor from the day he had +escaped from his battalion in the Civil War down to the present moment. + +Norton hadn't the remotest idea that he was the young recruit who had taken +to his heels on entering a battle and never stopped running until he +reached home. + +"This is Major Norton?" the preacher asked. + +"Yes," was the curt answer. + +"I demand a division of time with you in a joint discussion here, sir." + +Norton's figure stiffened and he looked at the man with a flush of anger: + +"Did you say demand?" + +"Yes, sir, I did," the preacher answered, snapping his hard mouth firmly. +"We believe in free speech in this county." + +Norton placed his hands in his pockets, and looked him over from head to +foot: + +"Well, you've got the gall of the devil, I must say, even if you do wear +the livery of heaven. You demand free speech at my expense! I like your +cheek. It cost my committee two hundred dollars to advertise this meeting +and make it a success, and you step up at the last moment and demand that I +turn it over to your party. If you want free speech, hire your own hall and +make it to your heart's content. You can't address this crowd from a +speaker's stand built with my money." + +"You refuse?" + +Norton looked at him steadily for a moment and took a step closer: + +"I am trying to convey that impression to your mind. Must I use my foot to +emphasize it?" + +The long-haired one paled slightly, turned and quickly pushed his way +through the crowd to a group awaiting him on the edge of the brush arbor +that had been built to shelter the people from the sun. The Chairman +whispered to Norton: + +"There'll be trouble certain--they're a tough lot. More than half the men +here are with him." + +"They won't be when I've finished," he answered with a smile. + +"You'd better divide with them----" + +"I'll see him in hell first!" + +Norton stepped quickly on the rude pine platform that had been erected for +the speaker and faced the crowd. For the first time on his trip the +cheering was given with moderation. + +He saw the preacher walk back under the arbor and his men distribute +themselves with apparent design in different parts of the crowd. + +He lifted his hand with a gesture to stop the applause and a sudden hush +fell over the eager, serious faces. + +His eye wandered carelessly over the throng and singled out the men he had +seen distribute themselves among them. He suddenly slipped his hand behind +him and drew from beneath his long black frock coat a big revolver and laid +it beside the pitcher of lemonade the Chairman had provided. + +A slight stir swept the crowd and the stillness could be felt. + +The speaker lifted his broad shoulders and began his speech in an intense +voice that found its way to the last man who hung on the edge of the crowd: + +"Gentlemen," he began slowly, "if there's any one present who doesn't wish +to hear what I have to say, now is the time to leave. This is my meeting, +and I will not be interrupted. If, in spite of this announcement, there +happens to be any one here who is looking for trouble"--he stopped and +touched the shining thing that lay before him--"you'll find it here on the +table--walk right up to the front." + +A cheer rent the air. He stilled it with a quick gesture and plunged into +his speech. + +In the intense situation which had developed he had forgotten the fear +that had been gnawing at his heart for the past weeks. + +At the height of his power over his audience his eye suddenly caught the +black face of Andy grinning in evident admiration of his master's +eloquence. + +Something in the symbolism of this negro grinning at him over the heads of +the people hanging breathless on his words sent a wave of sickening fear to +his heart. In vain he struggled to throw the feeling off in the midst of +his impassioned appeal. It was impossible. For the remaining half hour he +spoke as if in a trance. Unconsciously his voice was lowered to a strange +intense monotone that sent the chills down the spines of his hearers. + +He closed his speech in a silence that was strangling. + +The people were dazed and he was half-way down the steps of the rude +platform before they sufficiently recovered to break into round after round +of cheering. + +He had unconsciously made the most powerful speech of his life, and no man +in all the crowd that he had hypnotized could have dreamed the grim secret +which had been the source of his inspiration. + +Without a moment's delay he found Andy, examined the package he brought and +hurried to his room. + +"Everything all right at home, Andy?" he asked with apparent carelessness. + +The negro was still lost in admiration of Norton's triumph over his hostile +audience. + +"Yassah, you sho did set 'em afire wid dat speech, major!" he said with a +laugh. + +"And I asked you if everything was all right at home?" + +"Oh, yassah, yassah--everything's all right. Of cose, sah, dey's a few +little things always happenin'. Dem pigs get in de garden las' week an' et +everything up, an' dat ole cow er own got de hollow horn agin. But +everything else all right, sah." + +"And how's aunt Minerva?" + +"Des es big an' fat ez ebber, sah, an' er gittin' mo' unruly every +day--yassah--she's gittin' so sassy she try ter run de whole place an' me, +too." + +"And Cleo?" + +This question he asked bustling over his papers with an indifference so +perfectly assumed that Andy never guessed his interest to be more than +casual, and yet he ceased to breathe until he caught the laughing answer: + +"Oh, she's right dar holdin' her own wid Miss Minerva an' I tells her las' +week she's lookin' better dan ebber--yassah--she's all right." + +Norton felt a sense of grateful relief. His fears had been groundless. They +were preposterous to start with. The idea that she might attempt to visit +Helen in his absence was, of course, absurd. + +His next question was asked with a good-natured, hearty tone: + +"And Mr. Tom?" + +Andy laughed immoderately and Norton watched him with increasing wonder. + +"Right dar's whar my tale begins!" + +"Why, what's the matter with him?" the father asked with a touch of anxiety +in his voice. + +"Lordy, dey ain't nuttin' de _matter_ wid him 'tall--hit's a fresh cut!" + +Again Andy laughed with unction. + +"What is it?" Norton asked with impatience. "What's the matter with Tom?" + +"Nuttin' 'tall, sah--nuttin' 'tall--I nebber see 'im lookin' so well in my +life. He gets up sooner den I ebber knowed him before. He comes home +quicker an' stays dar longer an' he's de jolliest young gentleman I know +anywhar in de state. Mo' specially, sah, since dat handsome young lady from +de North come down to see us----" + +The father's heart was in his throat as he stammered: + +"A handsome young lady from the North--I don't understand!" + +"Why, Miss Helen, sah, de young lady you invite ter spen' de summer wid +us." + +Norton's eyes suddenly grew dim, he leaned on the table, stared at Andy, +and repeated blankly: + +"The young lady I asked to spend the summer with us?" + +"Yassah, Miss Helen, sah, is her name--she cum 'bout er week atter you +lef----" + +"And she's been there ever since?" he asked. + +"Yassah, an' she sho is a powerful fine young lady, sah. I don't blame +Mister Tom fer bein' crazy 'bout her!" + +There was a moment's dead silence. + +"So Tom's crazy about her?" he said in a high, nervous voice, which Andy +took for a joke. + +"Yassah, I'se had some sperience myself, sah, but I ain't nebber seen +nuttin' like dis! He des trot long atter her day an' night like a fice. An' +de funny thing, sah, is dat he doan' seem ter know dat he's doin' it. +Everybody 'bout de house laffin' fit ter kill dersef an' he don't pay no +'tention. He des sticks to her like a sick kitten to a hot brick! Yassah, +hit sho's funny! I des knowed you'd bust er laughin' when you sees 'em." + +Norton had sunk to a seat too weak to stand. His face was pale and his +breath came in short gasps as he turned to the negro, stared at him +hopelessly for a moment and said: + +"Andy, get me a good horse and buggy at the livery stable--we'll drive +through the country to-night. I want to get home right away." + +Andy's mouth opened and his eyes stared in blank amazement. + +"De Lawd, major, hit's mos' sundown now an' hit's a hundred miles from here +home--hit took me all day ter come on de train." + +"No, it's only forty miles straight across the country. We can make it +to-night with a good horse. Hurry, I'll have my valise packed in a few +minutes." + +"Do you know de way, sah?" Andy asked, scratching his head. + +"Do as I tell you--quick!" Norton thundered. + +The negro darted from the room and returned in half an hour with a horse +and buggy. + +Through the long hours of the night they drove with but a single stop at +midnight in a quiet street of a sleeping village. They halted at the well +beside a store and watered the horse. + +A graveyard was passed a mile beyond the village, and Andy glanced timidly +over his shoulder at the white marble slabs glistening in the starlight. +His master had not spoken for two hours save the sharp order to stop at the +well. + +"Dis sho is er lonesome lookin' place!" Andy said with a shiver. + +But the man beside him gave no sign that he heard. His eyes were set in a +strange stare at the stars that twinkled in the edge of the tree tops far +ahead. + +Andy grew so lonely and frightened finally at the ominous silence that he +pretended to be lost at each crossroads to force Norton to speak. + +"I wuz afraid you gone ter sleep, sah!" he said with an apologetic laugh. +"An' I wuz erfered dat you'd fall out er de buggy gwine down er hill." + +In vain he tried to break the silence. There was no answer--no sign that he +was in the same world, save the fact of his body's presence. + +The first streak of dawn was widening on the eastern horizon when Norton's +cramped legs limped into the gate of his home. He stopped to steady his +nerves and looked blankly up at the window of his boy's room. He had given +Tom his mother's old room when he had reached the age of sixteen. + +Somewhere behind those fluted pillars, white and ghost-like in the dawn, +lay the girl who had suddenly risen from the dead to lead his faltering +feet up life's Calvary. He saw the cross slowly lifting its dark form from +the hilltop with arms outstretched to embrace him, and the chill of death +crept into his heart. + +The chirp of stirring birds, the dim noises of waking life, the whitening +sky-line behind the house recalled another morning in his boyhood. He had +waked at daylight to go to his traps set at the branch in the edge of the +woods behind the barn. The plantation at that time had extended into the +town. A fox had been killing his fancy chickens. He had vowed vengeance in +his boyish wrath, bought half a dozen powerful steel-traps and set them in +the fox's path. The prowler had been interrupted the night before and had +not gotten his prey. He would return sure. + +He recalled now every emotion that had thrilled his young heart as he +bounded along the dew-soaked path to his traps. + +Before he could see the place he heard the struggles of his captive. + +"I've got him!" he shouted with a throb of savage joy. + +He leaped the fence and stood frozen to the spot. The fox was a magnificent +specimen of his breed, tall and heavy as a setter dog, with beautiful +appealing eyes. His fine gray fur was spotched with blood, his mouth torn +and bleeding from the effort to break the cruel bars that held his foreleg +in their death-like grip. With each desperate pull the blood spurted afresh +and the steel cut deeper into bone and flesh. + +The strange cries of pain and terror from the trapped victim had struck him +dumb. He had come with murder in his heart to take revenge on his enemy, +but when he looked with blanched face on the blood and heard the pitiful +cries he rushed to the spot, tore the steel arms apart, loosed the fox, +pushed his quivering form from him and gasped: + +"Go--go--I'm sorry I hurt you like that!" + +Stirred by the memories of the dawn he lived this scene again in vivid +anguish, and as he slowly mounted the steps of his home, felt the steel +bars of an inexorable fate close on his own throat. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BEHIND THE BARS + + +When Norton reached his room he locked the door and began to pace the +floor, facing for the hundredth time the stunning situation which the +presence of Helen had created. + +To reveal to such a sensitive, cultured girl just as she was budding into +womanhood the fact that her blood was tainted with a negro ancestor would +be an act so pitifully cruel that every instinct of his nature revolted +from the thought. + +He began to realize that her life was at stake as well as his boy's. That +he loved this son with all the strength of his being and that he only knew +the girl to fear her, made no difference in the fundamental facts. He +acknowledged that she was his. He had accepted the fact and paid the +penalty in the sacrifice of every ambition of a brilliant mind. + +He weighed carefully the things that were certain and the things that were +merely probable. The one certainty that faced him from every angle was that +Cleo was in deadly earnest and that it meant a fight for the supremacy of +every decent instinct of his life and character. + +Apparently she had planned a tragic revenge by luring the girl to his home, +figuring on his absence for three months, to precipitate a love affair +before he could know the truth or move to interfere. A strange mental +telepathy had warned him and he had broken in on the scene two months +before he was expected. + +And yet he couldn't believe that Cleo in the wildest flight of her insane +rage could have deliberately meant that such an affair should end in +marriage. She knew the character of both father and son too well to doubt +that such an act could only end in tragedy. She was too cautious for such +madness. + +What was her game? + +He asked himself that question again and again, always to come back to one +conclusion. She had certainly brought the girl into the house to force from +his reluctant lips her recognition and thus fix her own grip on his life. +Beyond a doubt the surest way to accomplish this, and the quickest, was by +a love affair between the boy and girl. She knew that personally the father +had rather die than lose the respect of his son by a confession of his +shame. But she knew with deeper certainty that he must confess it if their +wills once clashed over the choice of a wife. The boy had a mind of his +own. His father knew it and respected and loved him all the more because of +it. + +It was improbable as yet that Tom had spoken a word of love or personally +faced such an issue. Of the girl he could only form the vaguest idea. It +was clear now that he had been stricken by a panic and that the case was +not so desperate as he had feared. + +One thing he saw with increasing clearness. He must move with the utmost +caution. He must avoid Helen at first and find the boy's attitude. He must +at all hazards keep the use of every power of body, mind and soul in the +crisis with which he was confronted. + +Two hours later when Andy cautiously approached his door and listened at +the keyhole he was still pacing the floor with the nervous tread of a +wounded lion suddenly torn from the forest and thrust behind the bars of an +iron cage. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +ANDY'S DILEMMA + + +Andy left Norton's door and rapped softly at Tom's, tried the lock, found +it unfastened, pushed his way quietly inside and called: + +"Mister Tom!" + +No answer came from the bed and Andy moved closer: + +"Mister Tom--Mister Tom!" + +"Ah--what's the matter with you--get out!" the sleeper growled. + +The negro touched the boy's shoulder with a friendly shake, whispering: + +"Yo' Pa's here!" + +Tom sat up in bed rubbing his eyes: + +"What's that?" + +"Yassah, I fotch him through the country and we rid all night----" + +"What's the matter?' + +"Dat's what I wants ter see you 'bout, sah--an' ef you'll des slip on dem +clothes an' meet me in de liberry, we'll hab a little confab an' er council +er war----" + +The boy picked up a pillow and hurled it at Andy: + +"Well, get out, you old rascal, and I'll be down in a few minutes." + +Andy dodged the pillow and at the door whispered: + +"Yassah, an' don't disturb de major! I hopes ter God he sleep er month when +he git started." + +"All right, I won't disturb him." + +Tom dressed, wondering vaguely what had brought his father home at such an +unearthly hour and by such a trip across the country. + +Andy, arrayed in a suit of broadcloth which he had appropriated from +Norton's wardrobe in his absence, was waiting for Tom with evident +impatience. + +"Now, what I want to know is," the boy began, "what the devil you mean by +pulling me out of bed this time of day?" + +Andy chuckled: + +"Well, yer see, sah, de major git home kinder sudden like en' I wuz jest er +little oneasy 'bout dis here new suit er close er mine----" + +"Well, that's not the first suit of his clothes you've swiped--you needn't +be scared." + +"Scared--who me? Man, I ain't er skeered er yo' Pa." + +Minerva banged the dining-room door and Andy jumped and started to run. Tom +laughed and seized his arm: + +"Oh, don't be a fool! There's no danger." + +"Nasah--I knows dey's no danger--but"--he glanced over his shoulder to be +sure that the master hadn't come down stairs--"but yer know de ole sayin' +is dat indiscretion is de better part er value----" + +"I see!" Tom smiled in perfect agreement. + +"An' I des has er little indiscretion----" + +"Oh, you make me tired, how can I help a coward?" + +Andy looked grieved: + +"Lordy, Mister Tom--don't say dat, sah. I ain't no coward--I'se des +cautious. Ye know I wuz in dat fus' battle er Bull's Run wid de major. I +git separated from him in a close place an' hatter move my headquarters. +Dey said I wuz er coward den 'cause I run. But twan't so, sah! Twan't cause +I wuz er coward. I knowed zactly what I wuz doin'. I run 'cause I didn't +hab no wings! I done de very bes' I could wid what I had. An' fuddermo', +sah, de fellers dat wuz whar I wuz en' didn't run--dey's all dar yit at +Bull's Run! Nasah, I ain't no coward. I des got de indiscretion----" + +Another door slammed and Andy dodged. + +"What's the matter with you anyhow, you old fool, are you having fits?" Tom +cried. + +Andy looked around the room cautiously and took hold of the boy's coat: + +"You listen to me, Mister Tom. I'se gwine tell yer somfin' now----" + +"Well?" + +"I ain't er skeered er de major--but he's dangous----" + +"Bosh!" + +"Dey's sumfin' de matter wid him!" + +"Had a few mint juleps with a friend, no doubt." + +"Mint juleps! Huh! He kin swim in 'em--dive in 'em an' stay down er whole +day an' never come up ter blow his bref--licker don't faze him!" + +"It's politics. He's leading this devilish campaign and he's worried over +politics." + +"Nasah!" Andy protested with a laugh. "Dem fool niggers des well give +up--dey ain't gwine ter vote no mo'. De odder feller's doin' all de +worryin'. He ain't worrin'----" + +"Yes, he is, too," the boy replied. "He put a revolver in his pocket when +he started on that trip." + +"Yassah!" Andy laughed. "I know, but yer don't understan'. Dat pistol's his +flatform!" + +"His platform?" + +"You ain' hear what he bin er doin' wid dat pistol?" + +"No--what?" + +"Man erlive, yer des oughter see 'im yistiddy when I take 'im dem papers +ter dat speakin', down in one er dem po' white counties full er Radicals +dat vote wid niggers. Er Kermittee comes up an' say dat de Internal +Constertooshion er de Nunited States give 'em free speech an' he gwine ter +hear from 'em. De Lordy, man, but his bristles riz! I 'lows ter myself, +folks yer sho is thumpin' de wrong watermillion dis time!" + +"And what did he say to the Committee?" + +"I nebber hear nary word. He des turn 'roun an' step up on dat flatform, +kinder peart like, an' yer oughter see 'im open dat meetin'"--Andy paused +and broke into a loud laugh. + +"How did he open it?" Tom asked with indulgent interest. + +Andy scratched his woolly head: + +"Well, sah, hit warn't opened wid prayer--I kin tell ye dat! De fust thing +he done, he reach back in his britches, kinder kereless lak, an' pull dat +big pistol an' lay hit down afore him on' de table beside his pitcher er +lemonade. Man, you oughter see de eyes er dat crowd er dirty-lookin' po' +whites! Dey fairly popped outen der heads! I hump myself an' move out +towards de outskirts----" + +Tom smiled: + +"I bet you did!" + +"Oh, I didn't run!" Andy protested. + +"Of course not--far be it from you!" + +"Nasah, I des tucken drawed out----" + +"I understand, just a little caution, so to speak!" + +"Yassah--dat's hit! Des tucken drawed out, whar I'd have elbow room in de +mergency----" + +"In other words," the boy interrupted, "just used a little indiscretion!" + +Andy chuckled: + +"Yassah! Dat's hit! Well, sah, he pat dat pistol kinder familious like an' +say: 'Ef dey's any er you lowlife po' white scoundrels here ter-day that +don't want ter hear my speech--git! But ef yer stay an' yer don't feel +comfortable, I got six little lead pills here in a box dat'll ease yer +pain. Walk right up to de prescription counter!'" + +"And they walked right up?" + +"Well, sah, dey didn't _crowd up!_--nasah!" Andy paused and laughed +immoderately. "An' wid dat he des folded his arms an' look at dat crowd er +minute an' his eyes began to spit fire. When I see dat, I feels my very +shoes commin' ontied. I sez ter myself, now folks he's gwine ter +magnify----" + +Tom laughed: + +"Magnified, did he?" + +The negro's eyes rolled and he lifted his hands in a gesture of supreme +admiration: + +"De Lordy, man--ef he didn't! He lit inter dem po' white trash lak er +thousand er brick----" + +"Give 'em what Paddy gave the drum, I suppose?" + +"Now yer talkin', honey! Ef he didn't give 'em particular hell!" + +"And what happened?" + +"Nuttin' happened, chile--dat's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye. Nary one of +'em nebber cheeped. Dey des stood dar an' listened lak er passel er +sheep-killin' dogs. Lemme tell ye, honey, politics ain't er worryin' him. +De odder fellers doin' all de worrin'. Nasah, dey's sumfin else de matter +wid de major----" + +"What?" + +Andy looked around the room furtively and whispered: + +"Dar's a quare look in his eye!" + +"Ah, pooh!" + +"Hit's des lak I tells ye, Mister Tom. I ain't seed dat quare look in his +eye before since de night I see yo' Ma's ghost come down outen dat big +picture frame an' walk cross dis hall----" + +The boy smiled and looked at the shining yellow canvas that seemed a living +thing gleaming in its dark setting: + +"I suppose, of course, Andy, you really saw her do that?" + +"'Fore God, es sho's I'm talkin' ter you now, she done dat thing--yassah! +Hit wus de las' year befo' you come back frum college. De moon wuz shinin' +froo dem big windows right on her face, an' I seed her wid my own eyes, all +of a sudden, step right down outen dat picture frame an' walk across dis +room, huggin' her baby close up in her arms--an' you'se dat very baby, +sah!" + +The boy was interested in the negro's weird recital in spite of his +amusement. He shook his head and said laughingly: + +"Andy, you've got the heat----" + +"Hit's des lak I tells ye, sah," Andy solemnly repeated. "I stood right +dar by dat table froze in my tracks, till I seed her go froo dat do' widout +openin' it----" + +"Bah!" Tom cried in disgust. + +"Dat she did!--an' Miss Minerva she see her do dat same thing once before +and tell me about it. But man erlive, when I see it, I let off one er dem +yells dat wuz hark from de tomb----" + +"I bet you did!" + +"Yassah, I went froo dat big window dar an' carry de whole sash wid me. De +major he take out atter me when he hears de commotion, an' when he kotch me +down dar in de fiel' I wuz still wearin' dat sash fer a necktie!" + +The boy laughed again: + +"And I suppose, of course, he believed all you told him?" + +The negro rolled his eyes solemnly to the ceiling and nodded his head: + +"Dat he did, sah. When I fust told 'im dat I seed er ghost, he laft fit ter +kill hissef----" + +The boy nodded: + +"I don't doubt it!" + +"But mind ye," Andy solemnly continued, "when I tells him what kin' er +ghost I seed, he nebber crack anudder smile. He nebber open his mouf ergin +fer er whole day. An' dis here's what I come ter tell ye, honey----" + +He paused and glanced over his shoulder as if momentarily fearing the +major's appearance. + +"I thought you'd been telling me?" + +"Nasah, I ain't told ye nuttin' yit. When I say what _kine_ er ghost I +see--dat quare look come in his eye--de same look dat come dar yistiddy +when I tells 'im dat Miss Helen wuz here." + +The boy looked at Andy with a sudden start: + +"Ah, how could that sweet little girl upset him? He's her guardian's +attorney and sent for her to come, of course----" + +"I don't know 'bout dat, sah--all I know is dat he went wil' es quick es I +tells 'im, an' he bin wil' ever since. Mister Tom, I ain't skeered er de +major--but he's dangous!" + +"Ah, Andy, you're the biggest fool in the county," the boy answered +laughing. "You know my father wouldn't touch a hair of your kinky head." + +Andy grinned. + +"'Cose not, Mister Tom," he said with unction. "I knows dat. But all de +same I gotter keep outen his way wid dis new suit er close till I see 'im +smilin'----" + +"Always bearing in mind that indiscretion is the better part of value!" + +"Yassah--yassah--dat's hit--an' I wants you ter promise you'll stan' by me, +sah, till de major's in a good humor." + +"All right; if you need me, give a yell." + +Tom turned with a smile to go, and Andy caught his sleeve and laughed +again: + +"Wait--wait er minute, Mister Tom--hold yer hosses. Dey's anodder little +thing I wants ye ter help me out erbout. I kin manage de major all right ef +I kin des keep outen his sight ter-day wid dis suit er clothes. But de +trouble is, I got ter wear 'em, sah--I got er 'pintment wid er lady!" + +The boy turned good-naturedly, threw his leg over the corner of the table +and raised his eyebrows with a gleam of mischief: + +"Oh, a lady! Who is she? Aunt Minerva?" + +Andy waved his hands in disgust. + +"Dat's des de one hit ain't--nasah! I can't stan' her nohow, Mr. Tom. I des +natchally can't stan' er fat 'oman! An' Miss Minerva weighs 'bout three +hundred----" + +"Oh, not so bad as that, Andy!" + +"Yassah, she's er whale! Man, ef we wuz walkin' along tergedder, en she wuz +ter slip an' fall she'd sqush de life outen me! I'd nebber know what hit +me. An' what makes bad matters wus, I'se er strong suspicion dat she got +her eyes sot on me here lately--I des feels it in my bones--she's atter me +sho, sah." + +Tom broke into a laugh: + +"Well, she can't take you by force." + +"I don't know 'bout dat, sah. When any 'oman gits her min' sot she's +dangous. But when a 'oman big an' black es she make up her min'!" + +"Black!" Tom cried, squaring himself and looking Andy over: "Aren't you +just a little shady?" + +"Who? Me?--nasah! I ain't no black nigger!" + +"No?" + +"Nasah! I'se what dey calls er tantalizin' brown!" + +"Oh, I see!" + +"Yassah, I'se er chocolate-colored gemman--an' I nebber could stan' dese +here coal-black niggers. Miss Minerva's so black she kin spit ink!" + +"And she's 'atter' you?" + +"Yassah, an' Miss Minerva's a widder 'oman, an' ye know de Scripter says, +'Beware of widders'----" + +"Of course!" Tom agreed. + +"I'se er gemman, yer know, Mister Tom. I can't insult er lady, an' dat's de +particular reason dat I wants ter percipitate mysef wid my true love before +dat big, black 'oman gits her hands on me. She's atter me sho, an' ef she +gits me in er close place, what I gwine do, sah?" + +Tom assumed a judicial attitude, folded his arms and asked: + +"Well, who's the other one?--who's your true love?" + +Andy put his hand over his mouth to suppress a snicker: + +"Now dat's whar I kinder hesitates, sah. I bin er beatin' de debbil roun' +de stump fur de pas' week tryin' ter screw up my courage ter ax ye ter help +me. But Mister Tom, you gettin' so big an' dignified I kinder skeered. You +got ter puttin' on more airs dan de major----" + +"Ah, who is she?" the boy asked brusquely. + +Andy glanced at him out of the corners of his rolling eyes: + +"Yer ain't gwine laugh at me--is yer?" + +With an effort Tom kept his face straight: + +"No, I may be just as big a fool some day myself--who is she?" + +Andy stepped close and whispered: + +"Miss Cleo!" + +"Cleo----" + +"Yassah." + +"Well, you are a fool!" the boy exclaimed indignantly. + +"Yassah, I spec I is," Andy answered, crestfallen, "but I des can't hep it, +sah." + +"Cleo, my nurse, my mammy--why, she wouldn't wipe her foot on you if you +were a door-mat. She's almost as white as I am." + +"Yassah, I know, an' dat's what make me want her so. She's mine ef I kin +git her! Hit des takes one drap er black blood to make er nigger, sah." + +"Bah--she wouldn't look at you!" + +"I know she holds er high head, sah. She's been eddicated an' all dat--but +you listen ter me, honey--she gwine look at me all de same, when I say de +word." + +"Yes, long enough to laugh." + +Andy disregarded the shot, and prinked himself before the mirror: + +"Don't yer think my complexion's gettin' little better, sah?" + +Tom picked up a book with a smile: + +"You do look a little pale to-day, but I think that's your liver!" + +Andy broke into a laugh: + +"Nasah. Dat ain't my liver!" + +"Must be!" + +"Nasah! I got er patent bleacher frum New York dat's gwine ter make me +white ef I kin des buy enough of it." + +"How much have you used?" + +"Hain't used but six bottles yit. Hit costs three dollars a bottle"--he +paused and rubbed his hands smoothingly over his head. "Don't yer think my +hair's gittin' straighter, sah?" + +Tom turned another page of the book without looking up: + +"Not so that you could notice it." + +"Yassah, 'tis!" Andy laughed, eyeing it sideways in the mirror and making +a vain effort to see the back of his head. "I'se er usin' er concoction +called 'Not-a-Kink.' Hit costs five dollars a bottle--but man, hit sho is +doin' de work! I kin des feel dem kinks slippin' right out." + +"There's nothing much the matter with your hair, Andy," Tom said, looking +up with a smile, "that's the straightest thing about you. The trouble's +inside." + +"What de matter wid me inside?" + +"You're crooked." + +"Who--me?" Andy cried. "Ah, go long, Mister Tom, wid yer projectin'--yer +des foolin' wid me"--he came close and busied himself brushing the boy's +coat and continued with insinuating unction--"now ef yer des put in one +little word fer me wid Miss Cleo----" + +"Take my advice, Andy," the boy said seriously, "keep away from her--she'll +kill you." + +"Not ef you help me out, sah," Andy urged eagerly. "She'll do anything fer +you, Mister Tom--she lubs de very ground you walks on--des put in one +little word fer me, sah----" + +Tom shook his head emphatically: + +"Can't do it, Andy!" + +"Don't say dat, Mister Tom!" + +"Can't do it." + +Andy flicked imaginary lint from both sleeves of Tom's coat: + +"Now look here, Mister Tom----" + +The boy turned away protesting: + +"No, I can't do it." + +"Lordy, Mister Tom," Andy cried in grieved tones. "You ain't gwine back on +me like dat des 'cose yer went ter college up dar in de Norf an' git mixed +up wid Yankee notions! Why, you an' me's always been good friends an' +partners. What ye got agin me?" + +A gleam of mischief slipped into the boy's eyes again as he folded his arms +with mock severity: + +"To begin with, you're the biggest old liar in the United States----" + +"Lordy, Mister Tom, I nebber tell a lie in my life, sah!" + +"Andy--Andy!" + +The negro held his face straight for a moment and then broke into a laugh: + +"Well, sah, I may has _pré-var-i-cated_ some times, but dat ain't +lyin'--why, all gemmens do dat." + +"And look at this suit of clothes," Tom said severely, "that you've just +swiped from Dad. You'd steal anything you can get your hands on!" + +Andy turned away and spoke with deep grief + +"Mister Tom, you sho do hurt my feelin's, sah--I nebber steal nuttin' in my +life." + +"I've known you to steal a palm-leaf fan in the dead of winter with snow on +the ground." + +Andy laughed uproariously: + +"Why, man, dat ain't stealin! Who gwine ter want er palm-leaf fan wid snow +on de groun'?--dat's des findin' things. You know dey calls me Hones' Andy. +When dey ketch me wid de goods I nebber try ter lie outen it lak some fool +niggers. I des laugh, 'fess right up, an' hit's all right. Dat's what make +'em call me Hones' Andy, cose I always knows dat honesty's de bes' +policy--an' here you comes callin' me a thief--Lordee, Mister Tom, yer sho +do hurt my feelin's!" + +The boy shook his head again and frowned: + +"You're a hopeless old sinner----" + +"Who, me, er sinner? Why, man erlive, I'se er pillar in de church!" + +"God save the church!" + +"I mebbe backslide a little, sah, in de winter time," Andy hastened to +admit. "But I'se always de fus' man to de mourners' bench in de spring. I +mos' generally leads de mourners, sah, an' when I comes froo an' gits +religion over again, yer kin hear me shout er mile----" + +"And I bet when the chickens hear it they roost higher the next night!" + +Andy ignored the thrust and went on enthusiastically: + +"Nasah, de church folks don't call me no sinner. I always stands up fer +religion. Don't yer min' de time dat big yaller nigger cum down here from +de Norf er castin' circumflexions on our church? I wuz de man dat stood +right up in de meetin' an' defends de cause er de Lawd. I haul off an' biff +'im right in the jaw----" + +"And you're going to ask Cleo to marry you?" + +"I sho' is, sah." + +"Haven't you a wife living, Andy?" the boy asked carelessly. + +The whites of the negro's eyes suddenly shone as he rolled them in the +opposite direction. He scratched his head and turned back to his friendly +tormentor with unction: + +"Mr. Tom, I'm gwine ter be hones'--cose honesty is de bes' policy. I did +marry a lady, sah, but dat wuz er long time ergo. She run away an' lef me +an' git married ergin an' I divorced her, sah. She don't pester me no mo' +an' I don't pester her. Hit warn't my fault, sah, an' I des put her away ez +de Bible sez. Ain't dat all right, sah?" + +"Well, it's hardly legal to-day, though it may have been a Biblical +custom." + +"Yassah, but dat's nuttin' ter do wid niggers. De white folks make de laws +an' dey hatter go by 'em. But niggers is niggers, yer know dat yosef, sah." + +Tom broke into a laugh: + +"Andy, you certainly are a bird!" + +The negro joined in the laugh with a joyous chuckle at its close: + +"Yassah, yassah--one er dese here great big brown blackbirds! But, Lordy, +Mister Tom, yer des foolin' wid me--yer ain't got nuttin' 'gin yer ole +partner, barrin' dem few little things?" + +"No, barring the few things I've mentioned, that you're a lazy, lying, +impudent old rascal--barring these few little things--why--otherwise you're +all right, Andy, you're all right!" + +The negro chuckled joyfully: + +"Yassah--yassah! I knowed yer warn't gwine back on me, Mister Tom." He +edged close and dropped his voice to the oiliest whisper: "You'll say dat +good word now to Miss Cleo right away, sah?" + +The boy shook his head: + +"The only thing I'll agree to do, Andy, is to stand by and see you commit +suicide. If it's any comfort to you, I'll tell you that she'll kill you." + +"Nasah! Don't yer believe it. Ef I kin des escape dat fat 'oman wid my life +before she gits me--now dat you'se on my side I kin read my titles +clar----" + +"Oh, you can get rid of Minerva all right!" + +"For de Lord sake, des tell me how!" + +Tom bent toward him and spoke in low tones: + +"All you've got to do if Minerva gets you in a tight place is to confess +your real love and ask her to help you out as a friend." + +Andy looked puzzled a moment and then a light broke over his dusky face: + +"Dat's a fine plan, Mister Tom. You saved er nigger's life--I'll do dat +sho!" + +"As for Cleo, I can't do anything for you, but I won't do anything against +you." + +"Thankee, sah! Thankee, sah!" + +When Tom reached the door he paused and said: + +"I might consent to consult with the undertaker about the funeral and act +as one of your pall-bearers." + +Andy waved him away with a suppressed laugh: + +"G'way frum here, Mister Tom! G'way frum here!" + +The negro returned to the mirror, adjusted his suit and after much effort +succeeded in fixing a new scarfpin of a horseshoe design in the centre of +the bow of one of Norton's old-fashioned black string ties. He dusted his +shoes, smoothed as many of the kinks out of his hair as a vigorous rubbing +could accomplish, and put the last touches on his elaborate preparations +for a meeting with Cleo that was destined to be a memorable one in her +life. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE BEST LAID PLANS + + +Andy's plans for a speedy conquest of Cleo were destined to an +interruption. Minerva had decided that he was the best man in sight for a +husband, and made up her mind to claim her own. She had noticed of late a +disposition on his part to dally with Cleo, and determined to act +immediately. Breakfast was well under way and she had heard Andy's unctous +laugh in the library with Tom. + +She put on her sweeping apron, took up a broom and entered under the +pretense of cleaning the room. + +Andy was still chuckling with joy over the brilliant plan of escape +suggested by Tom. He had just put the finishing touches on his necktie, and +was trying on an old silk hat when Minerva's voice caused him to suddenly +collapse. + +"Say, man, is dat a hat er a bee-gum?" she cried, with a laugh so jolly it +would have been contagious but for Andy's terror. + +He looked at her, dropped the hat, picked it up and stammered: + +"W-w-why--Miss Minerva, is dat you?" + +Minerva beamed on him tenderly, placed her broom in the corner and advanced +quickly to meet him: + +"I knowed ye wuz 'spectin me frum de way yer wuz gettin' ready." She +laughed and chuckled with obvious coquetry, adding coyly: + +"I knows how yer feel----" + +Andy looked for a way of escape. But Minerva was too quick for him. She was +a woman of enormous size, fat, jolly and extremely agile for her weight. +She carried her two hundred and fifty pounds without apparent effort. She +walked with a nervous, snappy energy and could waltz with the grace of a +girl of sixteen. + +She had reached Andy's side before his dull brain could think of an excuse +for going. Her shining coal-black face was aglow with tenderness and the +determination to make things easy for him in the declaration of love she +had planned that he should make. + +"I know how yer feels, Brer Andy," she repeated. + +The victim mopped his perspiring brow and stammered: + +"Yassam--yassam." + +"Yer needn't be so 'barrassed, Mr. Andy," Minerva went on in the most +insinuating tones. "Yer kin say what's on yer mind." + +"Yassam." + +"Come right here and set down er minute." + +She seized his hand and drew him with a kittenish skip toward a settee, +tripped on a bear rug and would have fallen had not Andy grabbed her. + +"De Lord save us!" he gasped. He was trying desperately in his new suit to +play the gentleman under difficulties. + +Minerva was in ecstasy over his gallantry: + +"Yer sho wuz terrified less I git hurt, Mr. Andy," she laughed. "I thought +dat bar had me sho." + +Andy mopped his brow again and glanced longingly at the door: + +"Yassam, I sho wuz terrified--I'm sorry m'am, you'll hatter 'scuse me. +Mister Tom's out dar waitin' fer me, an' I hatter go----" + +Minerva smilingly but firmly pulled him down on the seat beside her: + +"Set right down, Mr. Andy, an' make yoself at home. We got er whole half +hour yet 'fore de odder folks come down stairs. Man, don't be so +'barrassed! I knows 'zactly how yer feels. I understand what's de matter +wid yer"--she paused, glanced at him out of the corners of her eye, touched +him slyly with her elbow, and whispered: + +"Why don't yer say what's on yer mind?" + +Andy cleared his throat and began to stammer. He had the habit of +stammering under excitement, and Tom's plan of escape had just popped into +his benumbed brain. He saw the way out: + +"Y-y-yas'm--cose, m'am. I got sumfin ter tell ye, Miss M-m-Minerva." + +Minerva moved a little closer. + +"Yas, honey, I knows what 'tis, but I'se jes' waitin' ter hear it." + +He cleared his throat and tried to begin his speech in a friendly +business-like way: + +"Yassam, I gwine tell yer sho----" + +He turned to face her and to his horror found her lips so close she had +evidently placed them in position for the first kiss. + +He stopped appalled, fidgeted, looked the other way and stammered: + +"H-hit sho is powful warm ter-day, m'am!" + +"Tain't so much de heat, Brer Andy," she responded tenderly, "as 'tis de +humility dat's in de air!" + +Andy turned, looked into her smiling face for a moment and they both broke +into a loud laugh while he repeated: + +"Yassam, de humility--dat's hit! De humility dat's in de air!" + +The expression had caught his fancy enormously. + +"Yassir, de humility--dat's hit!" Minerva murmured. + +When the laughter had slowly died down she moved a little closer and said +reassuringly: + +"And now, Brer Andy, ez dey's des you an' me here tergedder--ef hits suits +yo' circumstantial convenience, hab no reprehenshun, sah, des say what's on +yo' min'." + +Andy glanced at her quickly, bowed grandiloquently and catching the spirit +of her high-flown language decided to spring his confession and ask her +help to win Cleo. + +"Yassam, Miss Minerva, dat's so. An' ez I allays sez dat honesty is de bes' +policy, I'se gwine ter ré-cede ter yo' invitation!" + +Minerva laughed with joyous admiration: + +"Des listen at dat nigger now! You sho is er talkin' man when yer gits +started----" + +"Yassam, I bin er tryin' ter tell ye fer de longest kind er time an' ax ye +ter help me----" + +Minerva moved her massive figure close against him: + +"Cose I help you." + +Andy edged as far away as possible, but the arm of the settee had caught +him and he couldn't get far. He smiled wanly and tried to assume a purely +platonic tone: + +"Wuz yer ebber in love, Miss Minerva?" + +Minerva nudged him slyly: + +"Wuz I?" + +Andy tried to ignore the hint, lifted his eyes to the ceiling and in +far-away tones put the hypothetical case of the friend who needed help: + +"Well, des 'spose m'am dat a po' man wuz ter fall in love wid er beautiful +lady, fur above him, wid eyes dat shine lak de stars----" + +"Oh, g'way frum here, man!" Minerva cried entranced as she broke into a +peal of joyous laughter, nudging him again. + +The insinuating touch of her elbow brought Andy to a sharp realization that +his plan had not only failed to work, but was about to compromise him +beyond hope. He hurried to correct her mistake. + +"But listen, Miss Minerva--yer don't understand. Would yer be his friend +an' help him to win her?" + +With a cry of joy she threw her huge arms around his neck: + +"Would I--Lordy--man!" + +Andy tried to dodge her strangle hold, but was too slow and she had him. + +He struggled and grasped her arms, but she laughed and held on. + +"B-b-but--yer--yer," he stammered. + +"Yer needn't say annudder word----" + +"Yassam, but wait des er minute," he pleaded, struggling to lower her arms. + +"Hush, man," Minerva said good-naturedly. "Cose I knows yer bin er bad +nigger--but ye needn't tell me 'bout it now----" + +"For Gawd's sake!" Andy gasped, wrenching her arms away at last, "will yer +des lemme say one word?" + +"Nasah!" she said generously. "I ain't gwine ter let ye say no harsh words +ergin yoself. I sho do admire de indelicate way dat yer tells me of yo' +love!" + +"B-but yer don't understand----" + +"Cose I does, chile!" Minerva exclaimed with a tender smile. + +Andy made a gesture of despair: + +"B-b-but I tries ter 'splain----" + +"Yer don't hatter 'splain nuttin' ter me, man--I ain't no spring chicken--I +knowed what ye means befo' ye opens yer mouf. Yer tells me dat ye lubs me +an' I done say dat I lubs you--an' dat's all dey is to it." + +Minerva enfolded him in her ample arms and he collapsed with feeble assent: + +"Yassam--yassam." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A RECONNOITRE + + +Norton slept at last from sheer physical exhaustion and waked at eleven +o'clock refreshed and alert, his faculties again strung for action. + +He wondered in the clear light of noon at the folly of his panic the night +before. The fighting instinct in him had always been the dominant one. He +smiled now at his silly collapse and his quick brain began to plan his line +of defense. + +The girl was in his house, yes. But she had been here in spirit, a living, +breathing threat over his life, every moment the past twenty years. No +scene of pain or struggle could come but that he had already lived it a +thousand times. There was a kind of relief in facing these phantoms for the +first time in flesh and blood. They couldn't be more formidable than the +ghosts he had fought. + +He shaved and dressed with deliberation--dressed with unusual care--his +brain on fire now with the determination to fight and win. The instincts of +the soldier were again in command. And the first thing a true soldier did +when driven to desperation and surrounded by an overwhelming foe was to +reconnoitre, find the strength of his enemy, and strike at their weakest +spot. + +He must avoid Cleo and find the exact situation of Tom and Helen. His +safest way was again to cultivate Andy's knowledge of the house in his +absence. + +He rang for him and waited in vain for his appearance. He rang again and, +getting no response, walked down stairs to the door and searched the lawn. +He saw Cleo beside a flower bed talking to Helen. He caught a glimpse of +the lovely young face as she lifted her eyes and saw him. He turned back +quickly into the house to avoid her, and hurried to the library. + +Andy had been watching carefully until Norton went through the front door. +Sure that he had strolled out on the lawn to see Helen, with a sigh of +relief the negro hurried back to the mirror to take another admiring glance +at his fine appearance in the new suit. + +Norton's sudden entrance completely upset him. He tried to laugh and the +effort froze on his lips. He saw that Norton had recognized the stolen +suit, but was too excited to see the amusement lurking behind his frown: + +"Where were you a while ago, when I was calling?" + +"I been right here all mornin', sah," Andy answered with forced surprise. + +"You didn't hear that bell?" + +"Nasah, nebber hear a thing, sah." + +Norton looked at him severely: + +"There's a bigger bell going to ring for you one of these days. You like to +go to funerals, don't you?" + +Andy laughed: + +"Yassah--odder folk's funerals--but dey's one I ain't in no hurry to git +to----" + +"That's the one--where were you when I rang just now?" + +The negro looked at his master, hesitated, and a broad grin overspread his +black face. He bowed and chuckled and walked straight up to Norton: + +"Yassah, major, I gwine tell yer de honest truf now, cose honesty is de +bes' policy. I wuz des embellishin' mysef wid dis here ole suit er close +dat ye gimme, sah, an' I wants ter specify my 'preciation, sah, at de +generosity wid which yer always treats me, sah. I had a mos' particular +reason fer puttin' dis suit on dis mornin'----" + +Norton examined the lapel of the coat, his lips twitching to suppress a +smile: + +"My suit of broadcloth----" + +Andy rubbed his hands over the coat in profound amazement: + +"Is dis de broadcloth? De Lawd er mussy!" + +Norton shook his head: + +"You old black hound----" + +Andy broke into a loud laugh: + +"Yassah, yassah! Dat's me. But, major, I couldn't find the vest!" + +"Too bad--shall I get it for you?" + +"Nasah--des tell me whar yer put it!" + +Norton smiled: + +"Did you look in my big cedar box?" + +"Thankee, sah--thankee, sah. Yer sho is good ter me, major, an' yer can +always 'pend on me, sah." + +"Yes, I'm going to send you to the penitentiary for this----" + +Andy roared with laughter: + +"Yassah--yassah--cose, sah! I kin see myse'f in dat suit er stripes now, +but I sho is gwine ter blossom out in dat double-breasted vest fust!" + +When the laughter had died away Norton asked in good-natured tones: + +"You say I can depend on you, Andy?" + +"Dat yer kin, sah--every day in the year--you'se de bes frien' I ebber had +in de world, sah." + +"Then I want to ask you a question." + +"Yassah, I tells yer anything I know, sah." + +"I'm just a little worried about Tom. He's too young to get married. Do you +think he's been really making love to Miss Helen?" + +Norton watched the negro keenly. He knew that a boy would easily trust his +secrets to such a servant, and that his sense of loyalty to the young would +be strong. He was relieved at the quick reply which came without guile: + +"Lawdy, major, he ain't got dat far, sah. I bin er watchin' 'em putty +close. He des kinder skimmin' 'round de edges." + +"You think so?" + +"Yassah!" was the confident reply. "He 'minds me er one er dese here +minnows when ye go fishin'. He ain't swallowed de hook yit--he des +nibblin'." + +Norton smiled, lighted a cigar, and quietly said: + +"Go down to the office and tell Mr. Tom that I'm up and wish to see him." + +"Yassah--yassah--right away, sah." + +Andy bowed and grinned and hurried from the house. + +Norton seated himself in an armchair facing the portrait of the little +mother. His memory lingered tenderly over the last beautiful days they had +spent together. He recalled every smile with which she had looked her +forgiveness and her love. He felt the presence of her spirit and took +courage. + +He lifted his eyes to the sweet, tender face bending over her baby and +breathed a prayer for guidance. He wondered if she could see and know in +the dim world beyond. Without trying to reason about it, he had grown to +believe that she did, and that her soul was near in this hour of his trial. + +How like this mother the boy had grown the past year--just her age when he +was born. The color of his blonde hair was almost an exact reproduction of +hers. And this beautiful hair lent a peculiar distinction to the boy's fine +face. He had developed, too, a lot of little ways strikingly like the +mother's when a laughing school girl. He smiled in the same flashing way, +like a sudden burst of sunlight from behind a cloud. His temper was quick +like hers, and his voice more and more seemed to develop the peculiar tones +he had loved. + +That this boy, around whose form every desire of life had centered, should +be in peril was a thought that set his heart to beating with new energy. + +He heard his quick step in the hall, rose and laid down his cigar. With a +rush Tom was in the room grasping the outstretched hand: + +"Glad to see you back, Dad!" he cried, "but we had no idea you were coming +so soon." + +"I got a little homesick," the father replied, "and decided to come in for +a day or two." + +"I was awfully surprised at Miss Helen's popping in on us so +unexpectedly--I suppose you forgot to tell me about it in the rush of +getting away." + +"I really didn't expect her to come before my return," was the vague +answer. + +"But you wrote her to come at once." + +"Did I?" he replied carelessly. + +"Why, yes, she showed me your letter. I didn't write you about her arrival +because you told me under no circumstances, except of life or death, to +tell you of anything here and I obeyed orders." + +"I'm glad you've made that a principle of your life--stick to it." + +"I'm sorry you're away in this dangerous campaign so much, Dad," the boy +said with feeling. "It may end your career." + +The father smiled and a far-away look stole into his eyes: + +"I have no career, my boy! I gave that up years ago and I had to lead this +campaign." + +"Why?" + +The look in the brown eyes deepened: + +"Because I am the man to whom our danger has been revealed. I am the man to +whom God has given a message--I who have been tried in the fires of hell +and fought my way up and out of the pit--only the man who has no ambitions +can tell the truth!" + +The boy nodded and smiled: + +"Yes, I know your hobby----" + +"The big tragic truth, that the physical contact of the black race with the +white is a menace to our life"--his voice had dropped to a passionate +whisper as if he were talking to himself. + +A laugh from Tom roused him to the consciousness of time and place: + +"But that isn't a speech you meant for me, Dad!" + +The father caught his bantering tone with a light reply: + +"No." + +And then his tall form confronted the boy with a look of deep seriousness: + +"To-morrow I enter on the last phase of this campaign. At any moment a fool +or a madman may blow my brains out." + +Tom gave a start: + +"Dad----" + +"Over every mile of that long drive home last night, I was brooding and +thinking of you----" + +"Of me?" + +"Wondering if I had done my level best to carry out the dying commands of +your mother----" + +He paused, drew a deep breath, looked up tenderly and continued: + +"I wish you were settled in life." + +The boy turned slightly away and the father watched him keenly and +furtively for a moment, and took a step toward him: + +"You have never been in love?" + +With a shrug and a laugh, Tom dropped carelessly on the settee and crossed +his legs: + +"Love--hardly!" + +The father held his breath until the light answer brought relief and then +smiled: + +"It will come some day, my boy, and when it hits you, I think it's going to +hit hard." + +The handsome young head was poised on one side with a serious judicial +expression: + +"Yes, I think it will--but I guess my ideal's too high, though." + +The father spoke with deep emotion: + +"A man's ideal can't be too high, my boy!" + +Tom didn't hear. His mind was busy with his ideal. + +"But if I ever find her," he went on dreamily, "do you know what I'll +want?" + +"No." + +"The strength of Samson!" + +"What for?" + +He shook his head with a smile: + +"To reach over in California, tear one of those big trees up by the roots, +dip it in the crater of Vesuvius and write her name in letters of fire +across the sky!" + +He ended with a wide, sweeping gesture, showing just how he would inscribe +it. + +"Really!" the father laughed. + +"That's how I feel!" he cried, springing to his feet with an emphatic +gesture, a smile playing about his firm mouth. + +The father slipped his arm around him: + +"Well, if you should happen to do it, be sure to stand in the ocean, +because otherwise, you know, if the grass should be dry you might set the +world on fire." + +The boy broke into a hearty laugh, crossed to the table, and threw his leg +carelessly over the corner, a habit he had gotten from his father. When the +laugh had died away, he picked up a magazine and said carelessly: + +"I guess there's no danger, after all. I'm afraid that the big thing poets +sing about is only a myth after all"--he paused, raised his eyes and they +rested on his mother's portrait, and his voice became a reverent +whisper--"except your love for my mother, Dad--that was the real thing!" + +He was looking the other way and couldn't see the cloud of anguish that +suddenly darkened his father's face. + +"You'll know its meaning some day, my son," was the even reply that came +after a pause, "and I only demand of you one thing----" + +He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder: + +"That the woman you ask to be your wife bear a name without shadow. Good +blood is the noblest inheritance that any father or mother ever gave to a +child." + +"I'm proud of mine, sir!" the boy said, drawing his form erect. + +The father's arm stole around the young shoulders and his voice was very +low: + +"Fools sometimes say, my son, that a man can sow his wild oats and be all +the better for it. It's a lie. The smallest deed takes hold on eternity for +it may start a train of events that even God can't stop----" + +He paused and fought back a cry from the depths of his soul. + +"I did something that hurt your mother once"--his voice dropped--"and for +twenty years my soul in anguish has begged for forgiveness----" + +The boy looked at him in startled sympathy and his own arm instinctively +slipped around his father's form as he lifted his face to the shining +figure over the mantel: + +"But you believe that she sees and understands now?" + +Norton turned his head away to hide the mists that clouded his eyes. His +answer was uttered with the reverence of a prayer: + +"Yes! I've seen her in dreams sometimes so vividly and heard her voice so +plainly, I couldn't believe that I was asleep"--his voice stopped before +it broke, his arm tightening its hold--"and I know that her spirit broods +and watches over you----" + +And then he suddenly decided to do the most cruel thing to which his mind +had ever given assent. But he believed it necessary and did not hesitate. +Only the vague intensity of his eyes showed his deep feeling as he said +evenly: + +"Ask Miss Helen to come here. You'll find her on the lawn with Cleo." + +The boy left the room to summon Helen, and Norton seated himself with grim +determination. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FIRST WHISPER + + +When Tom reached the lawn Helen was nowhere to be seen. He searched every +nook and corner which they had been accustomed to haunt, looked through the +rose garden and finally knocked timidly on the door of her room. He was +sure at first that he heard a sound within. He dared not open her door and +so hurried down town to see if he could find her in one of the stores. + +Helen shivering inside had held her breath until his his footsteps died +away on the stairs. + +With heavy heart but swift hands she was packing her trunk. In spite of +Cleo's assurances she had been startled and frightened beyond measure by +the certainty that Norton had purposely avoided her. She had expected the +most hearty welcome. Her keen intuition had scented his hostility though +not a word had been spoken. + +Cleo, who had avoided Tom, again rapped on her door: + +"Just a minute, Miss Helen!" + +There was no answer and the woman strained her ear to hear what was +happening inside. It couldn't be possible that the girl was really going to +leave! Such an act of madness would upset her plans just as they were +coming out exactly as she had hoped. + +"She can't mean it!" Cleo muttered under her breath. "It's only a fit of +petulance!" She didn't dare to give Helen a hint of her clouded birth. That +might send her flying. Yet if necessary she must excite her curiosity by a +whisper about her parentage. She had already guessed from hints the girl +had dropped that her one passionate desire was to know the names of her +father and mother. She would be careful, but it was necessary to hold her +at all hazards. + +She rapped again: + +"Please, Miss Helen, may I come in just a minute?" + +Her voice was full of pleading. A step was heard, a pause and the door +opened. Cleo quickly entered, turned the key and in earnest tones, her eyes +dancing excitedly, asked: + +"You are really packing your trunk?" + +"It's already packed," was the firm answer. + +"But you can't mean this----" + +"I do." + +"I tell you, child, the major didn't see you----" + +"He did see me. I caught his eye in a straight, clear look. And he turned +quickly to avoid me." + +"You have his letter of invitation. You can't think it a forgery?" she +asked with impatience. + +The girl's color deepened: + +"He has evidently changed his mind for some reason." + +"Nonsense!" + +"I was just ready to rush to meet him and thank him with the deepest +gratitude for his invitation. The look on his face when he turned was like +a blow." + +"It's only your imagination!" Cleo urged eagerly. "He's worried over +politics." + +"I'm not in politics. No, it's something else--I must go." + +Cleo put her hand appealingly on Helen's arm: + +"Don't be foolish, child!" + +The girl drew away suddenly with instinctive aversion. The act was slight +and quick, but not too slight or quick for the woman's sharp eye. She threw +Helen a look of resentment: + +"Why do you draw away from me like that?" + +The girl flushed with embarrassment and stammered: + +"Why--you see, I've lived up North all my life, shut up in a convent most +of the time and I'm not used--to--colored people----" + +"Well, I'm not a negro, please remember that. I'm a nurse and housekeeper, +if you please, and there happens to be a trace of negro blood in my veins, +but a white soul throbs beneath this yellow skin. I'd strip it off inch by +inch if I could change its color"--her voice broke with assumed emotion--it +was a pose for the moment, but its apparent genuineness deceived the girl +and roused her sympathy. + +"I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said contritely. + +"Oh, it's no matter." + +Helen snapped the lid of her trunk: + +"I'm leaving on the first train." + +"Oh, come now," Cleo urged impatiently. "You'll do nothing of the kind--the +major will be himself to-morrow." + +"I am going at once----" + +"You're not going!" the woman declared firmly, laying her hand again on the +girl's arm. + +With a shudder Helen drew quickly away. + +"Please--please don't touch me again!" she cried with anger. "I'm sorry, +but I can't help it." + +With an effort Cleo suppressed her rage: + +"Well, I won't. I understand--but you can't go like this. The major will be +furious." + +"I'm going," the girl replied, picking up the odds and ends she had left +and placing them in her travelling bag. + +Cleo watched her furtively: + +"I--I--ought to tell you something that I know about your life--" + +Helen dropped a brush from her hand and quickly crossed the room, a bright +color rushing to her cheeks: + +"About my birth?" + +"You believe," Cleo began cautiously, "that the major is the agent of your +guardian who lives abroad. Well, he's not the agent--he is your guardian." + +"Why should he deceive me?" + +"He had reasons, no doubt," Cleo replied with a smile. + +"You mean that he knows the truth? That he knows the full history of my +birth and the names of my father and mother?" + +"Yes." + +"He has assured me again and again that he does not--" + +"I know that he has deceived you." + +Helen looked at her with a queer expression of angry repulsion that she +should possess this secret of her unhappy life. + +"You know?" she asked faintly. + +"No," was the quick reply, "not about your birth; but I assure you the +major does. Demand that he tell you." + +"He'll refuse--" + +"Ask him again, and stay until he does." + +"But I'm intruding!" Helen cried, brushing a tear from her eyes. + +"No matter, you're here, you're of age, you have the right to know the +truth--stay until you learn it. If he slights you, pay no attention to +it--stay until you know." + +The girl's form suddenly stiffened and her eyes flashed: + +"Yes, I will--I'll know at any cost." + +With a soft laugh which Helen couldn't hear Cleo hurried from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Andy's Proposal + + +Andy had been waiting patiently for Cleo to leave Helen's door. He had +tried in vain during the entire morning to get an opportunity to see her +alone, but since Helen's appearance at breakfast she had scarcely left the +girl's side for five minutes. + +He had slipped to the head of the back stairs, lifted the long flaps of the +tail of his new coat and carefully seated himself on the last step to wait +her appearance. He smiled with assurance. She couldn't get down without a +word at least. + +"I'm gwine ter bring things to er head dis day, sho's yer born!" he +muttered, wagging his head. + +He had been to Norfolk the week before on an excursion to attend the annual +convention of his African mutual insurance society, "The Children of the +King." While there he had met the old woman who had given him a startling +piece of information about Cleo which had set his brain in a whirl. He had +long been desperately in love with her, but she had treated him with such +scorn he had never summoned the courage to declare his affection. + +The advent of Helen at first had made no impression on his slowly working +mind, but when he returned from Norfolk with the new clew to Cleo's life he +watched the girl with increasing suspicion. And when he saw the collapse +of Norton over the announcement of her presence he leaped to an important +conclusion. No matter whether his guess was correct or not, he knew enough +to give him a power over the proud housekeeper he proposed to exercise +without a moment's delay. + +"We see now whether she turns up her nose at me ergin," he chuckled, as he +heard the door open. + +He rose with a broad grin as he saw that at last she was alone. He adjusted +his suit with a touch of pride and pulled down his vest with a little jerk +he had seen his master use in dressing. He had found the heavy, black, +double-breasted vest in the cedar box, but thought it rather sombre when +contrasted with a red English hunting jacket the major had affected once in +a fashionable fox hunt before the war. The rich scarlet took his fancy and +he selected that one instead. He carried his ancient silk hat jauntily +balanced in one hand, in the other hand a magnolia in full bloom. The +petals of the flower were at least a half-foot long and the leaves longer. + +He bowed with an attempt at the easy manners of a gentleman in a gallant +effort to attract her attention. She was about to pass him on the stairs +without noticing his existence when Andy cleared his throat: + +"Ahem!" + +Cleo paused with a frown: + +"What's the matter? Have you caught cold!" + +Andy generously ignored her tone, bowed and handed her the magnolia: + +"Would you embellish yousef wid dis little posie, m'am?" + +The woman turned on him, drew her figure to its full height, her eyes +blazing with wrath, snatched the flower from his hand and threw it in his +face. + +Andy dodged in time to save his nose and his offering went tumbling down +the stairs. He shook his head threateningly when he caught his breath: + +"Look a here, m'am, is dat de way yer gwine spessify my welcome?" + +"Why, no, I was only thanking you for the compliment!" she answered with a +sneer. "How dare you insult me?" + +"Insult you, is I?" Andy chuckled. "Huh, if dat's de way ye talk I'm gwine +ter say sumfin quick----" + +"You can't be too quick!" + +Andy held her eye a moment and pointed his index finger in her face: + +"Yassam! As de ole sayin' is--I'm gwine take my tex' from dat potion er de +Scripter whar de 'Postle Paul pint his 'pistle at de Fenians!--I'se er +comin' straight ter de pint." + +"Well, come to it, you flat-nosed baboon!" she cried in rage. "What makes +your nose so flat, anyhow?" + +Andy grinned at her tantalizingly, and spoke with a note of deliberate +insult: + +"I don't know, m'am, but I spec hit wuz made dat way ter keep hit outen +odder folks' business!" + +"You impudent scoundrel, how dare you speak to me like this?" Cleo hissed. + +A triumphant chuckle was his answer. He flicked a piece of imaginary dust +from the rim of his hat, his eyes rolled to the ceiling and he slowly said +with a smile: + +"Well, yer see, m'am, circumstances alters cases an' dat always makes de +altercations! I git holt er a little secret o' yourn dat gimme courage----" + +"A secret of mine?" Cleo interrupted with the first flash of surprise. + +"Yassam!" was the unctuous answer, as Andy looked over his shoulder and +bent to survey the hall below for any one who might possibly be passing. + +"Yassam," he went on smoothly, "down ter Norfork las' week, m'am----" + +"Wait a minute!" Cleo interrupted. "Some one might be below. Come to my +room." + +"Yassam, ob course, I wuz gwine ter say dat in de fust place, but ye didn't +gimme time"--he bowed--"cose, m'am, de pleasure's all mine, as de sayin' +is." + +He placed his silk hat jauntily on his head as they reached the door, and +gallantly took hold of Cleo's arm to assist her down the steps. + +She stopped abruptly: + +"Wait here, I'll go ahead and you can come in a few minutes." + +"Sholy, sholy, m'am, I understan' dat er lady allus likes ter make er +little preparations ter meet er gemman. I understands. I des stroll out on +de lawn er minute." + +"The backyard's better," she replied, quietly throwing him a look of scorn. + +"Yassam, all right. I des take a little cursory view er de chickens." + +"As soon as I'm out of sight, you can come right up." + +Andy nodded and Cleo quickly crossed the fifty yards that separated the +house from the neat square brick building that was still used as the +servants' quarters. + +In a few minutes, with his silk hat set on the side of his head, Andy +tipped up the stairs and knocked on her door. + +He entered with a grandiloquent bow and surveyed the place curiously. Her +room was a sacred spot he had never been allowed to enter before. + +"Have a seat," Cleo said, placing a chair. + +Andy bowed, placed his hat pompously on the table, pulled down his red vest +with a jerk and seated himself deliberately. + +Cleo glanced at him: + +"You were about to tell me something that you heard in Norfolk?" + +Andy looked at the door as an extra precaution and smiled blandly: + +"Yassam, I happen ter hear down dar dat a long time ergo, mo'rn twenty +years, afore I cum ter live here--dat is when I wuz er politicioner--dey +wuz rumors 'bout you an' de major when you wuz Mister Tom's putty young +nurse." + +"Well?" + +"De major's wife fin' it out an' die. De major wuz heart-broke, drap +everything an' go Norf, an' while he wuz up dar, you claims ter be de +mudder of a putty little gal. Now min' ye, I ain't nebber seed her, but +dat's what I hears you claims----" + +Andy paused impressively and Cleo held his eye in a steady, searching +stare. She was trying to guess how much he really knew. She began to +suspect that his story was more than half a bluff and made up her mind to +fight. + +"Claim? No, you fool!" she said with indifferent contempt, "I didn't claim +it--I proved it. I proved it to his satisfaction. You may worry some one +else with your secret. It doesn't interest me. But I'd advise you to have +your life insured before you mention it to the major"--she paused, broke +into a light laugh and added: "So that's your wonderful discovery?" + +Andy looked at her with a puzzled expression and scratched his head: + +"Yassam." + +"Then I'll excuse you from wasting any more of your valuable time," Cleo +said, rising. + +Andy rose and smiled: + +"Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am!" + +"No?" + +"Nobum. I ain't 'sputin dat de little gal wuz born des lak you say, or des +lak, mebbe, de major believes ter dis day"--he paused and leaned over until +he could whisper in her ear--"but sposen she die?" + +The woman never moved a muscle for an instant. She spoke at last in a +half-laughing, incredulous way: + +"Suppose she died? Why, what do you mean?" + +"Now, mind ye," Andy said, lifting his hands in a persuasive gesture, "I +ain't sayin' dat she raly did die--I des say--sposen she die----" + +Cleo lost her temper and turned on her tormentor in sudden fury: + +"But she didn't! Who dares to tell such a lie? She's living to-day a +beautiful, accomplished girl." + +Andy solemnly raised his hand again: + +"Mind ye, I don't say dat she ain't, I des say sposen--sposen she die, an' +you git a little orphan baby ter put in her place, twenty years ergo, jis' +ter keep yer grip on de major----" + +Cleo peered steadily into his face: + +[Illustration: "'Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am.'"] + +"Did you guess that lie?" + +He cocked his head to one side and grinned: + +"I don't say dat I did, an' I don't say dat I didn't. I des say dat I +mought, an' den ergin I moughn't!" + +"Well, it's a lie!" she cried fiercely--"I tell you it's an infamous lie!" + +"Yassam, dat may be so, but hit's a putty dangous lie fer you, m'am, +ef----" + +He looked around the room in a friendly, cautious way and continued in a +whisper: + +"Especially ef de major wuz ter ever git pizened wid it!" + +Cleo's voice dropped suddenly to pleading tones: + +"You're not going to suggest such an idea to him?" + +Andy looked away coyly and glanced back at her with a smile: + +"Not ef yer ax me----" + +"Well, I do ask you," she said in tender tones. "A more infamous lie +couldn't be told. But if such a suspicion were once roused it would be hard +to protect myself against it." + +"Oh, I des wants ter help ye, m'am," Andy protested earnestly. + +"Then I'm sure you'll never suggest such a thing to the major?--I'm sorry +I've treated you so rudely, and spoke to you as I did just now." + +Andy waved the apology aside with a generous gesture and spoke with large +good nature: + +"Oh, dat's all right, m'am! Dat's all right! I'm gwine ter show you now dat +I'se yer best friend----" + +"I may need one soon," she answered slowly. "Things can't go on in this +house much longer as they are." + +"Yassam!" Andy said reassuringly as he laid his hand on Cleo's arm and +bent low. "You kin 'pend on me. I'se always called Hones' Andy." + +She shuddered unconsciously at his touch, looked suddenly toward the house +and said: + +"Go--quick! Mr. Tom has come. I don't want him to see us together." + +Andy bowed grandly, took up his hat and tipped down the stairs chuckling +over his conquest, and Cleo watched him cross the yard to the kitchen. + +"I'll manage him!" she murmured with a smile of contempt. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE FOLLY OF PITY + + +Norton sat in the library for more than an hour trying to nerve himself for +the interview while waiting for Helen. He had lighted and smoked two cigars +in rapid succession and grown restless at her delay. He rose, strolled +through the house and seeing nothing of either Tom or Helen, returned to +the library and began pacing the floor with measured tread. + +He had made up his mind to do a cruel thing and told himself over and over +again that cruel things are often best. The cruelty of surgery is the +highest form of pity, pity expressed in terms of the highest intelligence. + +He was sure the boy had not made love to the girl. Helen was no doubt +equally innocent in her attitude toward him. + +It would only be necessary to tell her a part of the bitter truth and her +desire to leave would be a resistless one. + +And yet, the longer he delayed and the longer he faced such an act, the +more pitiless it seemed and the harder its execution became. At heart a +deep tenderness was the big trait of his character. + +Above all, he dreaded the first interview with Helen. The idea of the +responsibility of fatherhood had always been a solemn one. His love for Tom +was of the very beat of his heart. The day he first looked into his face +was the most wonderful in all the calendar of life. + +He had simply refused to let this girl come into his heart. He had closed +the door with a firm will. He had only seen her once when a little tot of +two and he was laboring under such deep excitement and such abject fear +lest a suspicion of the truth, or any part of the truth, reach the sisters +to whom he was intrusting the child, that her personality had made no +impression on him. + +He vaguely hoped that she might not be attractive. The idea of a girl of +his own had always appealed to him with peculiar tenderness, and, unlike +most fathers, he had desired that his first-born should be a girl. If Helen +were commonplace and unattractive his task would be comparatively easy. It +was a mental impossibility for him as yet to accept the fact that she was +his--he had seen so little of her, her birth was so unwelcome, her coming +into his life fraught with such tragic consequences. + +The vague hope that she might prove weak and uninteresting had not been +strengthened by the momentary sight of her face. The flash of joy that +lighted her sensitive features, though it came across the lawn, had reached +him with a very distinct impression of charm. He dreaded the effect at +close range. + +However, there was no other way. He had to see her and he had to make her +stay impossible. It would be a staggering blow for a girl to be told in the +dawn of young womanhood that her birth was shadowed by disgrace. It would +be a doubly cruel one to tell her that her blood was mixed with a race of +black slaves. + +And yet a life built on a lie was set on shifting sand. It would not +endure. It was best to build it squarely on the truth, and the sooner the +true foundation was laid the better. There could be no place in our +civilization for a woman of culture and refinement with negro blood in her +veins. More and more the life of such people must become impossible. That +she should remain in the South was unthinkable. That the conditions in the +North were at bottom no better he knew from the experience of his stay in +New York. + +He would tell her the simple, hideous truth, depend on her terror to keep +the secret, and send her abroad. It was the only thing to do. + +He rose with a start at the sound of Tom's voice calling her from the +stairway. + +The answer came in low tones so charged with the quality of emotion that +belongs to a sincere nature that his heart sank at the thought of his task. + +She had only said the most commonplace thing--"All right, I'll be down in a +moment." Yet the tones of her voice were so vibrant with feeling that its +force reached him instantly, and he knew that his interview was going to be +one of the most painful hours of his life. + +And still he was not prepared for the shock her appearance in the shadows +of the tall doorway gave. He had formed no conception of the gracious and +appealing personality. In spite of the anguish her presence had brought, in +spite of preconceived ideas of the inheritance of the vicious nature of her +mother, in spite of his ingrained repugnance to the negroid type, in spite +of his horror of the ghost of his young manhood suddenly risen from the +dead to call him to judgment, in spite of his determination to be cruel as +the surgeon to the last--in spite of all, his heart suddenly went out to +her in a wave of sympathy and tenderness! + +She was evidently so pitifully embarrassed and the suffering in her large, +expressive eyes so keen and genuine, his first impulse was to rush to her +side with words of comfort and assurance. + +The simple white dress, with tiny pink ribbons drawn through its edges, +which she wore accentuated the impression of timidity and suffering. + +He was surprised to find not the slightest trace of negroid blood apparent, +though he knew that a mixture of the sixteenth degree often left no trace +until its sudden reversion to a black child. + +Her hair was the deep brown of his own in young manhood, the eyes large and +tender in their rich blue depths--the eyes of innocence, intelligence, +sincerity. The lips were full and fluted, and the chin marked with an +exquisite dimple that gave a childlike wistfulness to a face that without +it might have suggested too much strength. + +Her neck was slightly curved and set on full, strong shoulders with an +unconscious grace. The bust was slight and girlish, the arms and figure +rounded and beautiful in their graceful fullness. + +Her walk, when she took the first few steps into the room and paused, he +saw was the incarnation of rhythmic strength and perfect health. + +But her voice was the climax of her appeal--low, vibrant, quivering with +feeling and full of a subtle quality that convinced the hearer from the +first moment of the truth and purity of its owner. + +She smiled with evident embarrassment at his silence. He was stunned for +the moment and simply couldn't speak. + +"So, I see you at last, Major Norton!" she said as the color slowly stole +over her face. + +He recovered himself, walked quickly to meet her and extended his hand: + +"I must apologize for not seeing you earlier this morning," he said +gravely. "I was up all night travelling through the country and slept very +late." + +As her hand rested in his the girl forgot her restraint and wounded pride +at the cold and doubtful reception he had given earlier. Her heart suddenly +beat with a desire to win this grave, strong man's love and respect. + +With a look of girlish tenderness she hastened to say: + +"I want to thank you with the deepest gratitude, major, for your kindness +in inviting me here this summer----" + +"Don't mention it, child," he interrupted frowning. + +"Oh, if you only knew," she went on hurriedly, "how I love the South, how +my soul glows under its skies, how I love its people, their old-fashioned +ways, their kindness, their hospitality, their high ideals----" + +He lifted his hand and the gesture stopped her in the midst of a sentence. +He was evidently struggling with an embarrassment that was painful and had +determined to end it. + +"The time has come, Helen," he began firmly--"you're of age--that I should +tell you the important facts about your birth." + +"Yes--yes----" the girl answered in an excited whisper as she sank into a +chair and gazed at him fascinated with the terror of his possible +revelation. + +"I wish I could tell you all," he said, pausing painfully. + +"You know--all?" + +"Yes, I know." + +"My father--my mother--they are living?" + +In spite of his effort at self-control Norton was pale and his voice +strained. His answers to her pointed questions were given with his face +turned from her searching gaze. + +"Your mother is living," was the slow reply. + +"And my father?" + +His eyes were set in a fixed stare waiting for this question, as a prisoner +in the dock for the sentence of a judge. His lips gave no answer for the +moment and the girl went on eagerly: + +"Through all the years that I've been alone, the one desperate yearning of +my heart has been to know my father"--the lines of the full lips +quivered--"I've always felt somehow that a mother who could give up her +babe was hardly worth knowing. And so I've brooded over the idea of a +father. I've hoped and dreamed and prayed that he might be living--that I +might see and know him, win his love, and in its warmth and joy, its +shelter and strength--never be lonely or afraid again----" + +Her voice sank to a sob, and Norton, struggling to master his feelings, +said: + +"You have been lonely and afraid?" + +"Utterly lonely! When other girls at school shouted for joy at the approach +of vacation, the thought of home and loved ones, it brought to me only +tears and heartache. Many a night I've laid awake for hours and sobbed +because a girl had asked me about my father and mother. Lonely!--oh, dear +Lord! And always I've dried my eyes with the thought that some day I might +know my father and sob out on his breast all I've felt and suffered"--she +paused, and looked at Norton through a mist of tears--"my father is not +dead?" + +The stillness was painful. The man could hear the tick of the little French +clock on the mantel. How tired his soul was of lies! He couldn't lie to her +in answer to this question. And so without lifting his head he said very +softly: + +"He is also alive." + +"Thank God!" the girl breathed reverently. "Oh, if I could only touch his +hand and look into his face! I don't care who he is, how poor and humble +his home, if it's a log cabin on a mountain side, or a poor white man's +hovel in town, I'll love him and cling to him and make him love me!" + +The man winced. There was one depth her mind had not fathomed! + +How could he push this timid, lonely, haunted creature over such a +precipice! He glanced at her furtively and saw that she was dreaming as in +a trance. + +"But suppose," he said quietly, "you should hate this man when you had +met?" + +"It's unthinkable," was the quick response. "My father is my father. I'd +love him if he were a murderer!" + +Again her mind had failed to sound the black depths into which he was about +to hurl her. She might love a murderer, but there was one thing beyond all +question, this beautiful, sensitive, cultured girl could not love the man +who had thrust her into the hell of a negroid life in America! She might +conceive of the love of a father who could take human life, but her mind +could not conceive the possibility of facing the truth with which he must +now crush the soul out of her body. Why had he lied and deceived her at +all? The instinctive desire to shield his own blood from a life of +ignominy--yes. But was it worth the risk? No--he knew it when it was too +late. The steel jaws with their cold teeth were tearing the flesh now at +every turn and there was no way of escape. + +When he failed to respond, she rose, pressed close and pleaded eagerly: + +"Tell me his name! Oh, it's wonderful that you have seen him, heard his +voice and held his hand! He may not be far away--tell me----" + +Norton shook his head: + +"The one thing, child, I can never do." + +"You are a father--a father who loves his own--I've seen and know that. A +nameless waif starving for a word of love begs it--just one word of deep, +real love--think of it! My heart has never known it in all the years I've +lived!" + +Norton lifted his hand brusquely: + +"You ask the impossible. The conditions under which I am acting as your +guardian seal my lips." + +The girl looked at him steadily: + +"Then, you are my real guardian?" + +"Yes." + +"And why have you not told me before?" + +The question was asked with a firm emphasis that startled him into a sense +of renewed danger. + +"Why?" she repeated. + +"To avoid questions I couldn't answer." + +"You will answer them now?" + +"With reservations." + +The girl drew herself up with a movement of quiet determination and spoke +in even tones: + +"My parents are Southern?" + +"Yes----" + +"My father and mother were--were"--her voice failed, her head dropped and +in an effort at self-control she walked to the table, took a book in her +hand and tried to turn its leaves. The hideous question over which she had +long brooded was too horrible to put into words. The answer he might give +was too big with tragic possibilities. She tried to speak again and +couldn't. He looked at her with a great pity in his heart and when at last +she spoke her voice was scarcely a whisper: + +"My father and mother were married?" + +He knew it was coming and that he must answer, and yet hesitated. His reply +was low, but it rang through her soul like the stroke of a great bell +tolling for the dead: + +"No!" + +The book she held slipped from the trembling fingers and fell to the floor. +Norton walked to the window that he might not see the agony in her +sensitive face. + +She stood very still and the tears began slowly to steal down her cheeks. + +"God pity me!" she sobbed, lifting her face and looking pathetically at +Norton. "Why did you let them send me to school? Why teach me to think and +feel and know this?" + +The low, sweet tones of her wonderful voice found the inmost heart of the +man. The misery and loneliness of the orphan years of which she had spoken +were nothing to the anguish with which her being now shook. + +He crossed the room quickly and extended his hand in a movement of +instinctive sympathy and tenderness: + +"Come, come, child--you're young and life is all before you." + +"Yes, a life of shame and humiliation!" + +"The world is wide to-day! A hundred careers are open to you. Marriage is +impossible--yes----" + +"And if I only wish for marriage?" the girl cried with passionate +intensity. "If my ideal is simple and old-fashioned--if all I ask of God is +the love of one man--a home--a baby----" + +A shadow of pain clouded Norton's face and he lifted a hand in tender +warning: + +"Put marriage out of your mind once and for all time! It can only bring to +you and your loved ones hopeless misery." + +Helen turned with a start: + +"Even if the man I love should know all?" + +"Yes," was the firm answer. + +She gazed steadily into his eyes and asked with sharp rising emphasis: + +"Why?" + +The question brought him squarely to the last blow he must give if he +accomplish the thing he had begun. He must tell her that her mother is a +negress. He looked at the quivering figure, the white, sensitive, young +face with the deep, serious eyes, and his lips refused to move. He tried +to speak and his throat was dry. It was too cruel. There must be an easier +way. He couldn't strike the sweet uplifted head. + +He hesitated, stammered and said: + +"I--I'm sorry--I can't answer that question fully and frankly. It may be +best, but----" + +"Yes, yes--it's best!" she urged. + +"It may be best," he repeated, "but I simply can't do it"--he paused, +turned away and suddenly wheeled confronting her: + +"I'll tell you all that you need to know to-day--you were born under the +shadow of a hopeless disgrace----" + +The girl lifted her hand as if to ward a blow while she slowly repeated: + +"A hopeless--disgrace----" + +"Beneath a shadow so deep, no lover's vow can ever lift it from your life. +I should have told you this before, perhaps--well, somehow I couldn't"--he +paused and his voice trembled--"I wanted you to grow in strength and +character first----" + +The girl clenched her hands and sprang in front of him: + +"That my agony might be beyond endurance? Now you _must_ tell me the whole +truth!" + +Again the appealing uplifted face had invited the blow, and again his heart +failed. It was impossible to crush her. It was too horrible. He spoke with +firm decision: + +"Not another word!" + +He turned and walked rapidly to the door. The girl clung desperately to his +arm: + +"I beg of you! I implore you!" + +He paused in the doorway, and gently took her hands: + +"Forgive me, child, if I seem cruel. In reality I am merciful. I must leave +it just there!" + +He passed quickly out. + +The girl caught the heavy curtains for support, turned with an effort, +staggered back into the room, fell prostrate on the lounge with a cry of +despair, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A DISCOVERY + + +Tom had grown restless waiting for Helen to emerge from the interminable +interview with his father. A half dozen times he had walked past the +library door only to hear the low hum of their voices still talking. + +"What on earth is it all about, I wonder?" he muttered. "Must be telling +her the story of his whole life!" + +He had asked her to meet him in the old rose garden when she came out. For +the dozenth time he strolled in and sat down on their favorite rustic. He +could neither sit still nor content himself with wandering. + +"What the devil's the matter with me anyhow?" he said aloud. "The next +thing I'll be thinking I'm in love--good joke--bah!" + +Helen was not the ideal he had dreamed. She had simply brought a sweet +companionship into his life--that was all. She was a good fellow. She could +walk, ride, run and hold her own at any game he liked to play. He had +walked with her over miles of hills and valleys stretching in every +direction about town. He had never grown tired of these walks. He didn't +have to entertain her. They were silent often for a long time. They sat +down beside the roadway, laughed and talked like chums with never a +thought of entertaining each other. + +In the long rides they had taken in the afternoons and sometimes late in +the starlight or moonlight, she had never grown silly, sentimental or +tiresome. A restful and home-like feeling always filled him when she was by +his side. He hadn't thought her very beautiful at first, but the longer he +knew her the more charming and irresistible her companionship became. + +"Her figure's a little too full for the finest type of beauty!" he was +saying to himself now. "Her arms are splendid, but the least bit too big, +and her face sometimes looks too strong for a girl's! It's a pity. Still, +by geeminy, when she smiles she is beautiful! Her face seems to fairly +blossom with funny little dimples--and that one on the chin is awfully +pretty! She just misses by a hair being a stunningly beautiful girl!" + +He flicked a fly from his boot with a switch he was carrying and glanced +anxiously toward the house. "And I must say," he acknowledged judicially, +"that she has a bright mind, her tastes are fine, her ideals high. She +isn't all the time worrying over balls and dresses and beaux like a lot of +silly girls I know. She's got too much sense for that. The fact is, she has +a brilliant mind." + +Now that he came to think of it, she had a mind of rare brilliance. +Everything she said seemed to sparkle. He didn't stop to ask the reason +why, he simply knew that it was so. If she spoke about the weather, her +words never seemed trivial. + +He rose scowling and walked back to the house. + +"What on earth can they be talking about all this time?" he cried angrily. +Just then his father's tall figure stepped out on the porch, walked its +length and entered the sitting-room by one of the French windows. + +He sprang up the steps, thrust his head into the hall, and softly whistled. +He waited a moment, there was no response, and he repeated the call. Still +receiving no answer, he entered cautiously: + +"Miss Helen!" + +He tipped to the library door and called again: + +"Miss Helen!" + +Surprised that she could have gone so quickly he rushed into the room, +glanced hastily around, crossed to the window, looked out on the porch, +heard the rustle of a skirt and turned in time to see her flying to escape. + +With a quick dash he headed her off. + +Hiding her face she turned and ran the other way for the door through which +he had entered. + +With a laugh and a swift leap Tom caught her arms. + +"Lord, you're a sprinter!" he cried breathlessly. "But I've got you now!" +he laughed, holding her pinioned arms tightly. + +Helen lifted her tear-stained face: + +"Please----" + +Tom drew her gently around and looked into her eyes: + +"Why--what on earth--you're crying!" + +She tried to draw away but he held her hand firmly: + +"What is it? What's happened? What's the matter?" + +His questions were fired at her with lightning rapidity. + +The girl dropped forlornly on the lounge and turned her face away: + +"Please go!" + +"I won't go--I won't!" he answered firmly as he bent closer. + +"Please--please!" + +"Tell me what it is?" + +Helen held her face resolutely from him. + +"Tell me," he urged tenderly. + +"I can't!" + +She threw herself prostrate and broke into sobs. + +The boy wrung his hands helplessly, started to put his arm around her, +caught himself in time and drew back with a start. At last he burst out +passionately: + +"Don't--don't! For heaven's sake don't! It hurts me more than it does +you--I don't know what it is but it hurts--it hurts inside and it hurts +deep--please!" + +Without lifting her head Helen cried: + +"I don't want to live any more!" + +"Oh, is that all?" Tom laughed. "I see, you've stubbed your toe and don't +want to live any more!" + +"I mean it!" she broke in desperately. + +"Good joke!" he cried again, laughing. "You don't want to live any more! +Twenty years old and every line of your graceful, young form quivering with +the joy of life--you--you don't want to live! That's great!" + +The girl lifted her dimmed eyes, looked at him a moment, and spoke the +thought that had poisoned her soul--spoke it in hard, bitter accents with a +touch of self-loathing: + +"I've just learned that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!" + +"Well, what have you to do with that?" he asked quickly. "Your whole being +shines with truth and purity. What's an accident of birth? You couldn't +choose your parents, could you? You're a nameless orphan and my father is +the attorney of an old fool guardian who lives somewhere in Europe. All +right! The worst thing your worst enemy could say is that you're a child of +love--a great love that leaped all bounds and defied the law--a love that +was madness and staked all life on the issue! That means you're a child of +the gods. Some of the greatest men and women of the world were born like +that. Your own eyes are clear. There's no cloud on your beautiful soul----" + +Tom paused and Helen lifted her face in rapt attention. The boy suddenly +leaped to his feet, turned away and spoke in ecstatic whispers: + +"Good Lord--listen at me--why--I'm making love--great Scott--I'm in love! +The big thing has happened--to me--to me! I feel the thrill of it--the +thing that transforms the world--why--it's like getting religion!" + +He strode back and forth in a frenzy of absurd happiness. + +Helen, smiling through her tears, asked: + +"What are you saying? What are you talking about?" + +With a cry of joy he was at her side, her hand tight gripped in his: + +"Why, that I'm in love, my own--that I love you, my glorious little girl! I +didn't realize it until I saw just now the tears in your eyes and felt the +pain of it. Every day these past weeks you've been stealing into my heart +until now you're my very life! What hurts you hurts me--your joys are +mine--your sorrows are mine!" + +Laughing in spite of herself, Helen cried: + +"You--don't realize what you're saying!" + +"No--but I'm beginning to!" he answered with a boyish smile. "And it goes +to my head like wine--I'm mad with its joy! I tell you I love you--I love +you! and you love me--you do love me?" + +The girl struggled, set her lips grimly and said fiercely: + +"No--and I never shall!" + +"You don't mean it?" + +"I do!" + +"You--you--don't love another?" + +"No--no!" + +"Then you _do_ love me!" he cried triumphantly. "You've just _got_ to love +me! I won't take any other answer! Look into my eyes!" + +She turned resolutely away and he took both hands drawing her back until +their eyes met. + +"Your lips say no," he went on, "but your tears, your voice, the tremor of +your hand and the tenderness of your eyes say yes!" + +Helen shook her head: + +"No--no--no!" + +But the last "no" grew feebler than the first and he pressed her hand with +cruel pleading: + +"Yes--yes--yes--say it, dear--please--just once." + +Helen looked at him and then with a cry of joy that was resistless said: + +"God forgive me! I can't help it--yes, yes, yes, I love you--I love you!" + +Tom snatched her to his heart and held her in perfect surrender. She +suddenly drew her arms from his neck, crying in dismay: + +"No--no--I don't love you!" + +The boy looked at her with a start and she went on quickly: + +"I didn't mean to say it--I meant to say--I hate you!" + +With a cry of pain she threw herself into his arms, clasping his neck and +held him close. + +His hand gently stroked the brown hair while he laughed: + +"Well, if that's the way you hate--keep it up!" + +With an effort she drew back: + +"But I mustn't----" + +"There!" he said, tenderly drawing her close again. "It's all right. It's +no use to struggle. You're mine--mine, I tell you!" + +With a determined effort she freed herself: + +"It's no use, dear, our love is impossible." + +"Nonsense!" + +"But you don't realize that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!" + +"I don't believe it--I wouldn't believe it if an angel said it. Who dares +to say such a thing?" + +"Your father!" + +"My father?" he repeated in a whisper. + +"He has always known the truth and now that I am of age he has told me----" + +"Told you what?" + +"Just what I said, and warned me that marriage could only bring pain and +sorrow to those I love." + +"He gave you no facts--only these vague warnings?" + +"Yes, more--he told me----" + +She paused and moved behind the table: + +"That my father and mother were never married." + +"Nothing more?" the boy asked eagerly. + +"That's enough." + +"Not for me!" + +"Suppose my father were a criminal?" + +"No matter--your soul's as white as snow" + +"Suppose my mother----" + +"I don't care who she was--you're an angel!" + +Helen faced him with strained eagerness: + +"You swear that no stain on my father or mother can ever make the least +difference between us?" + +"I swear it!" he cried grasping her hand. "Come, you're mine!" + +Helen drew back: + +"Oh, if I could only believe it----" + +"You do believe it--come!" + +He opened his arms and she smiled. + +"What shall I do!" + +"Come!" + +Slowly at first, and then with quick, passionate tenderness she threw +herself into his arms: + +"I can't help it, dearest. It's too sweet and wonderful--God help me if I'm +doing wrong!" + +"Wrong!" he exclaimed indignantly. "How can it be wrong, this solemn pledge +of life and love, of body and soul?" + +She lifted her face to his in wonder: + +"And you will dare to tell your father?" + +"In good time, yes. But it's our secret now. Keep it until I say the time +has come for him to know. I'll manage him--promise!" + +"Yes! How sweet it is to hear you tell me what to do! I shall never be +lonely or afraid again." + +The father's footstep on the porch warned of his approach. + +"Go quickly!" the boy whispered. "I don't want him to see us together +yet--it means too much now--it means life itself!" + +Helen moved toward the door, looked back, laughed, flew again into his arms +and quickly ran into the hall as Norton entered from the porch. + +The boy caught the look of surprise on his father's face, realized that he +must have heard the rustle of Helen's dress, and decided instantly to +accept the fact. + +He boldly walked to the door and gazed after her retreating figure, his +back squarely on his father. + +Norton paused and looked sharply at Tom: + +"Was--that--Helen?" + +The boy turned, smiling, and nodded with slight embarrassment in spite of +his determined effort at self-control: + +"Yes." + +The father's keen eyes pierced the boy's: + +"Why should she run?" + +Tom's face sobered: + +"I don't think she wished to see you just now, sir." + +"Evidently!" + +"She had been crying." + +"And told you why?" + +"Yes." + +The father frowned: + +"She has been in the habit of making you her confidant?" + +"No. But I found her in tears and asked her the reason for them." + +Norton was watching closely: + +"She told you what I had just said to her?" + +"Vaguely," Tom answered, and turning squarely on his father asked: "Would +you mind telling me the whole truth about it?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +The question came from the father's lips with a sudden snap, so suddenly, +so sharply the boy lost his composure, hung his head, and stammered with an +attempt at a smile: + +"Oh--naturally curious--I suppose it's a secret?" + +"Yes--I wish I could tell you, but I can't"--he paused and spoke with +sudden decision: + +"Ask Cleo to come here." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE CHALLENGE + + +Norton was morally certain now that the boy was interested in Helen. How +far this interest had gone he could only guess. + +What stunned him was that Tom had already taken sides with the girl. He had +not said so in words. But his embarrassment and uneasiness could mean but +one thing. He must move with caution, yet he must act at once and end the +dangerous situation. A clandestine love affair was a hideous possibility. +Up to a moment ago he had held such a thing out of the question with the +boy's high-strung sense of honor and his lack of experience with girls. + +He was afraid now of both the boy and girl. She had convinced him of her +purity when the first words had fallen from her lips. Yet wiser men had +been deceived before. The thought of her sleek, tawny mother came with a +shudder. No daughter could escape such an inheritance. + +There was but one thing to do and it must be done quickly. He would send +Helen abroad and if necessary tell her the whole hideous truth. + +He lifted his head at the sound of Cleo's footsteps, rose and confronted +her. As his deep-set eyes surveyed her he realized that the hour had come +for a fight to the finish. + +She gazed at him steadily with a look of undisguised hate: + +"What is it?" + +He took a step closer, planted his long legs apart and met her greenish +eyes with an answering flash of rage: + +"When I think of your damned impudence, using my typewriter and letterheads +to send an invitation to that girl to spend the summer here with Tom at +home, and signing my name----" + +"I have the right to use your name with her," she broke in with a sneer. + +"It will be the last time I'll give you the chance." + +"We'll see," was the cool reply. + +Norton slowly drew a chair to the table, seated himself and said: + +"I want the truth from you now." + +"You'll get it. I've never had to lie to you, at least----" + +"I've no time to bandy words--will you tell me exactly what's been going on +between Tom and Helen during my absence in this campaign?" + +"I haven't seen anything!" was the light answer. + +His lips moved to say that she lied, but he smiled instead. What was the +use? He dropped his voice to a careless, friendly tone: + +"They have seen each other every day?" + +"Certainly." + +"How many hours have they usually spent together?" + +"I didn't count them." + +Norton bit his lips to keep back an oath: + +"How often have they been riding?" + +"Perhaps a dozen times." + +"They returned late occasionally?" + +"Twice." + +"How late?" + +"It was quite dark----" + +"What time?--eight, nine, ten or eleven o'clock?" + +"As late as nine one night, half-past nine another--the moon was shining." +She said it with a taunting smile. + +"Were they alone?" + +"Yes." + +"You took pains to leave them alone, I suppose?" + +"Sometimes"--she paused and looked at him with a smile that was a sneer. +"What are you afraid of?" + +He returned her gaze steadily: + +"Anything is possible of your daughter--the thought of it strangles me!" + +Cleo laughed lightly: + +"Then all you've got to do is to speak--tell Tom the truth." + +"I'll die first!" he fiercely replied. "At least I've taught him racial +purity. I've been true to my promise to the dead in this. He shall never +know the depths to which I once fell! You have robbed me of everything else +in life, this boy's love and respect is all that you've left me"--he +stopped, his breast heaving with suppressed passion. "Why--why did you +bring that girl into this house?" + +"I wished to see her--that's enough. For twenty years, I've lived here as a +slave, always waiting and hoping for a sign from you that you were +human----" + +"For a sign that I'd sink again to your level! Well, I found out twenty +years ago that beneath the skin of every man sleeps an ape and a tiger--I +fought that battle and won----" + +"And I have lost?" + +"Yes." + +"Perhaps I haven't begun to fight yet." + +"I shouldn't advise you to try it. I know now that I made a tragic blunder +when I brought you back into this house. I've cursed myself a thousand +times that I didn't put the ocean between us. If my boy hadn't loved you, +if he hadn't slipped his little arms around your neck and clung to you +sobbing out the loneliness of his hungry heart--if I hadn't seen the tears +in your own eyes and known that you had saved his life once--I wouldn't +have made the mistake that I did. But I gave you my word, and I've lived up +to it. I've reared and educated your child and given you the protection of +my home----" + +"Yes," she broke in, "that you might watch and guard me and know that your +secret was safely kept while you've grown to hate me each day with deeper +and fiercer hatred--God!--I've wondered sometimes that you haven't killed +me!" + +Norton's voice sank to a whisper: + +"I've wondered sometimes, too"--a look of anguish swept his face--"but I +gave you my word, and I've kept it." + +"Because you had to keep it!" + +He sprang to his feet: + +"Had to keep it--you say that to me?" + +"I do." + +"This house is still mine----" + +"But your past is mine!" she cried with a look of triumph. + +"Indeed! We'll see. Helen leaves this house immediately." + +"She shall not!" + +"You refuse to obey my orders?" + +"And what's more," she cried with angry menace, "I refuse to allow you to +put her out!" + +"To _allow_?" + +"I said it!" + +"So I am your servant? I must ask your permission?--God!----" he sprang +angrily toward the bell and Cleo stepped defiantly before him: + +"Don't you touch that bell----" + +Norton thrust her aside: + +"Get out of my way!" + +"Ring that bell if you dare!" she hissed. + +"Dare?" + +The woman drew her form erect: + +"If you dare! And in five minutes I'll be in that newspaper office across +the way from yours! The editor doesn't love you. To-morrow morning the +story of your life and mine will blaze on that first page!" + +Norton caught a chair for support, his face paled and he sank slowly to a +seat. + +Cleo leaned toward him, trembling with passion: + +"I'll give you fair warning. There are plenty of negroes to-day your equal +in wealth and culture. Do you think they have been listening to their great +leader's call to battle for nothing--building fine houses, buying land, +piling up money, sending their sons and daughters to college, to come at +your beck and call? You're a fool if you do. They are only waiting their +chance to demand social equality and get it. Wealth and culture will give +it in the end, ballot or no ballot. Once rich, white men and women will +come at their command. I've got my chance now to demand my rights of you +and do a turn for the negro race. You've got to recognize Helen before your +son. I've brought her here for that purpose. With her by my side, I'll be +the mistress of this house. Now resign your leadership and get out of this +campaign!" + +With a stamp of her foot she ended her mad speech in sharp, high tones, +turned quickly and started to the door. + +Between set teeth Norton growled: + +"And you think that I'll submit?" + +The woman wheeled suddenly and rushed back to his side, her eyes flaming: + +"You've got to submit--you've got to submit--or begin with me a fight that +can only end in your ruin! I've nothing to lose, and I tell you now that +I'll fight to win, I'll fight to kill! I'll ask no quarter of you and I'll +give none. I'll fight with every ounce of strength I've got, body and +soul--and if I lose I'll still have strength enough left to pull you into +hell with me!" + +Her voice broke in a sob, she pulled herself together, straightened her +figure and cried: + +"Now what are you going to do? What are you going to do? Accept my terms or +fight?" + +Norton's face was livid, his whole being convulsed as he leaped to his feet +and confronted her: + +"I'll fight!" + +"All right! All right!" she said with hysterical passion, backing toward +the door. "I've warned you now--I didn't want to fight--but I'll show +you--I'll show you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A SKIRMISH + + +Norton's fighting blood was up, but he was too good a soldier and too good +a commander to rush into battle without preparation. Cleo's mask was off at +last, and he knew her too well to doubt that she would try to make good her +threat. The fire of hate that had flamed in her greenish eyes was not a +sudden burst of anger, it had been smoldering there for years, eating its +way into the fiber of her being. + +There were three courses open. + +He could accept her demand, acknowledge Helen to his son, establish her in +his home, throw his self-respect to the winds and sink to the woman's +level. It was unthinkable! Besides, the girl would never recover from the +shock. She would disappear or take her own life. He felt it with +instinctive certainty. But the thing which made such a course impossible +was the fact that it meant his daily degradation before the boy. He would +face death without a tremor sooner than this. + +He could defy Cleo and pack Helen off to Europe on the next steamer, and +risk a scandal that would shake the state, overwhelm the party he was +leading, disgrace him not only before his son but before the world, and set +back the cause he had at heart for a generation. + +It was true she might weaken when confronted with the crisis that would +mean the death of her own hopes. Yet the risk was too great to act on such +a possibility. Her defiance had in it all the elements of finality, and he +had accepted it as final. + +The simpler alternative was a temporary solution which would give him time +to think and get his bearings. He could return to the campaign immediately, +take Tom with him, keep him in the field every day until the election, ask +Helen to stay until his return, and after his victory had been achieved +settle with the woman. + +It was the wisest course for many reasons, and among them not the least +that it would completely puzzle Cleo as to his ultimate decision. + +He rang for Andy: + +"Ask Mr. Tom to come here." + +Andy bowed and Norton resumed his seat. + +When Tom entered, the father spoke with quick decision: + +"The situation in this campaign, my boy, is tense and dangerous. I want you +to go with me to-morrow and stay to the finish." + +Tom flushed and there was a moment's pause: + +"Certainly, Dad, if you wish it." + +"We'll start at eight o'clock in the morning and drive through the country +to the next appointment. Fix your business at the office this afternoon, +place your men in charge and be ready to leave promptly at eight. I've some +important writing to do. I'm going to lock myself in my room until it's +done. See that I'm not disturbed except to send Andy up with my supper. +I'll not finish before midnight." + +"I'll see to it, sir," Tom replied, turned and was gone. + +The father had watched the boy with keen scrutiny every moment and failed +to catch the slightest trace of resentment or of hesitation. The pause he +had made on receiving the request was only an instant of natural surprise. + +Before leaving next morning he sent for Helen who had not appeared at +breakfast. + +She hastened to answer his summons and he found no trace of anger, +resentment or rebellion in her gentle face. Every vestige of the shadow he +had thrown over her life seem to have lifted. A tender smile played about +her lips as she entered the room. + +"You sent for me, major?" she asked with the slightest tremor of timidity +in her voice. + +"Yes," he answered gravely. "I wish you to remain here until Tom and I +return. We'll have a conference then about your future." + +"Thank you," she responded simply. + +"I trust you will not find yourself unhappy or embarrassed in remaining +here alone until we return?" + +"Certainly not, major, if it is your wish," was the prompt response. + +He bowed and murmured: + +"I'll see you soon." + +Tom waved his hand from the buggy when his father's back was turned and +threw her an audacious kiss over his head as the tall figure bent to climb +into the seat. The girl answered with another from her finger tips which he +caught with a smile. + +Norton's fears of Tom were soon at rest at the sight of his overflowing +boyish spirits. He had entered into the adventure of the campaign from the +moment he found himself alone with his father, and apparently without +reservation. + +Through every one of his exciting speeches, when surrounded by hostile +crowds, the father had watched Tom's face with a subconscious smile. At the +slightest noise, the shuffle of a foot, the mutter of a drunken word, or +the movement of a careless listener, the keen eyes of the boy had flashed +and his right arm instinctively moved toward his hip pocket. + +When the bitter struggle had ended, father and son had drawn closer than +ever before in life. They had become chums and comrades. + +Norton had planned his tour to keep him out of town until after the polls +closed on the day of election. They had spent several nights within fifteen +or twenty miles of the Capital, but had avoided home. + +He had planned to arrive at the speaker's stand in the Capitol Square in +time to get the first returns of the election. + +Five thousand people were packed around the bulletin board when they +arrived on a delayed train. + +The first returns indicated that the leader's daring platform had swept the +state by a large majority. The negro race had been disfranchised and the +ballot restored to its original dignity. And much more had been done. The +act was purely political, but its effects on the relations, mental and +moral and physical, of the two races, so evenly divided in the South, would +be tremendous. + +The crowds of cheering men and women felt this instinctively, though it had +not as yet found expression in words. + +A half-dozen stalwart men with a rush and a shout seized Norton and lifted +him, blushing and protesting, carried him on their shoulders through the +yelling crowd and placed him on the platform. + +He had scarcely begun his speech when Tom, watching his chance, slipped +hurriedly through the throng and flew to the girl who was waiting with +beating heart for the sound of his footstep. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +LOVE LAUGHS + + +When Helen had received a brief note from Tom the night before the election +that he would surely reach home the next day, she snatched his picture from +the library table with a cry of joy and rushed to her room. + +She placed the little gold frame on her bureau, sat down before it and +poured out her heart in silly speeches of love, pausing to laugh and kiss +the glass that saved the miniature from ruin. The portrait was an exquisite +work of art on ivory which the father had commisioned a painter in New York +to do in celebration of Tom's coming of age. The artist had caught the +boy's spirit in the tender smile that played about his lips and lingered in +the corners of his blue eyes, the same eyes and lips in line and color in +the dainty little mother's portrait over the mantel. + +"Oh, you big, handsome, brave, glorious boy!" she cried in ecstasy. "My +sweetheart--so generous, so clean, so strong, so free in soul! I love +you--I love you--I love you!" + +She fell asleep at last with the oval frame clasped tight in one hand +thrust under her pillow. A sound sleep was impossible, the busy brain was +too active. Again and again she waked with a start, thinking she had heard +his swift footfall on the stoop. + +At daybreak she leaped to her feet and found herself in the middle of the +room laughing when she came to herself, the precious picture still clasped +in her hand. + +"Oh, foolish heart, wake up!" she cried with another laugh. "It's dawn, and +my lover is coming! It's his day! No more sleep--it's too wonderful! I'm +going to count every hour until I hear his step--every minute of every +hour, foolish heart!" + +She looked out the window and it was raining. The overhanging boughs of the +oaks were dripping on the tin roof of the bay window in which she was +standing. She had dreamed of a wonderful sunrise this morning. But it +didn't matter--the rain didn't matter. The slow, familiar dropping on the +roof suggested the nearness of her lover. They would sit in some shadowy +corner hand in hand and love all the more tenderly. The raindrops were the +drum beat of a band playing the march that was bringing him nearer with +each throb. The mocking-bird that had often waked her with his song was +silent, hovering somewhere in a tree beneath the thick leaves. She had +expected him to call her to-day with the sweetest lyric he had ever sung. +Somehow it didn't matter. Her soul was singing the song that makes all +other music dumb. + +"My love is coming!" she murmured joyfully. "My love is coming!" + +And then she stood for an hour in brooding, happy silence and watched the +ghost-like trees come slowly out of the mists. To her shining eyes there +were no mists. The gray film that hung over the waking world was a bridal +veil hiding the blushing face of the earth from the sun-god lover who was +on his way over the hills to clasp her in his burning arms! + +For the first time in her memory she was supremely happy. + +Every throb of pain that belonged to the past was lost in the sea of joy on +which her soul had set sail. In the glory of his love pain was only another +name for joy. All she had suffered was but the preparation for this supreme +good. It was all the more wonderful, this fairy world into which she had +entered, because the shadows had been so deep in her lonely childhood. + +There really hadn't been any past! She couldn't remember the time she had +not known and loved Tom. Love filled the universe, past, present and +future. There was no task too hard for her hands, no danger she was not +ready to meet. The hungry heart had found its own. + +Through the long hours of the day she waited without impatience. Each tick +of the tiny clock on the mantel brought him nearer. The hands couldn't turn +back! She watched them with a smile as she sat in the gathering twilight. + +She had placed the miniature back in its place and sat where her eye caught +the smile from his lips when she lifted her head from the embroidery on her +lap. + +The band was playing a stirring strain in the Square. She could hear the +tumult and the shouts of the crowds about the speaker's stand as they read +the bulletins of the election. The darkness couldn't hold him many more +minutes. + +She rose with a soft laugh and turned on the lights, walked to the window, +looked out and listened to the roar of the cheering when Norton made his +appearance. The band struck up another stirring piece. Yes, it was "Hail +to the Chief!" He had come. + +She counted the minutes it would take for him to elude his father and reach +the house. She pictured the smile on his face as he threaded his way +through the throng and started to her on swift feet. She could see him +coming with the long, quick stride he had inherited from his father. + +She turned back into the room exclaiming: + +"Oh, foolish heart, be still!" + +She seated herself again and waited patiently, a smile about the corners of +her lips and another playing hide and seek in the depths of her expressive +eyes. + +Tom had entered the house unobserved by any one and softly tipped into the +library from the door directly behind her. He paused, removed his hat, +dropped it silently into a chair and stood looking at the graceful, +beautiful form bending over her work. The picture of this waiting figure he +had seen in his day-dreams a thousand times and yet it was so sweet and +wonderful he had to stop and drink in the glory of it for a moment. + +A joyous laugh was bubbling in his heart as he tipped softly over the thick +yielding rug and slipped his hands over her eyes. His voice was the +gentlest whisper: + +"Guess?" + +The white figure slowly rose and her words came in little ripples of +gasping laughter as she turned and lifted her arms: + +"It's--it's--Tom!" + +With a smothered cry she was on his breast. He held her long and close +without a word. His voice had a queer hitch in it as he murmured: + +"Helen--my darling!" + +"Oh, I thought you'd never come!" she sighed, looking up through her tears. + +Tom held her off and gazed into her eyes: + +"It's been a century since I've seen you! I did my level best when we got +into these nearby counties again, but I couldn't shake Dad once this week. +He watched me like a hawk and insisted on staying out of town till the very +last hour of the election to-day. Did old Andy find out I slipped in last +week?" + +"No!" she laughed. + +"Did Cleo find it out?" + +"No." + +"You're sure Cleo didn't find out?" + +"Sure--but Aunt Minerva did." + +"Oh, I'm not afraid of her--kiss me!" + +With a glad cry their lips met. + +He held her off. + +"I'm not afraid of anything!" + +With an answering laugh, she kissed him again. + +"I'm not afraid of Dad!" he said in tones of mock tragedy. "Once more!" + +She gently disengaged herself, asking: + +"How did you get away from him so quickly?" + +"Oh, he's making a speech to the crowd in the Square proclaiming victory +and so"--his voice fell to a whisper--"I flew to celebrate mine!" + +"Won't he miss you?" + +"Not while he's talking. Dad enjoys an eloquent speech--especially one of +his own----" + +He stopped abruptly, took a step toward her and cried: + +"Say! Do you know what the Governor of North Carolina said once upon a +time to the Governor of South Carolina?" + +Helen laughed: + +"What?" + +He opened his arms: + +"'It strikes me,' said he, 'that it's a long time between drinks!'" + +Again her arms flashed around his neck. + +"Did you miss me?" + +"Dreadfully!" she sighed. "But I've been happy--happy in your love--oh, so +happy, dearest!" + +"Well, if Dad wins this election to-night," he said with a boyish smile, +"I'm going to tell him. Now's the time--no more slipping and sliding!"--he +paused, rushed to the window and looked out--"come, the clouds have lifted +and the moon is rising. Our old seat among the roses is waiting." + +With a look of utter happiness she slipped her arm in his and they strolled +across the lawn. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +"FIGHT IT OUT!" + + +Cleo had heard the shouts in the square with increasing dread. The hour was +rapidly approaching when she must face Norton. + +She had deeply regretted the last scene with him when she had completely +lost her head. For the first time in her life she had dared to say things +that could not be forgiven. They had lived an armed truce for twenty years. +She had endured it in the hope of a change in his attitude, but she had +driven him to uncontrollable fury now by her angry outburst and spoken +words that could not be unsaid. + +She realized when too late that he would never forgive these insults. And +she began to wonder nervously what form his revenge would take. That he had +matured a definite plan of hostile action which he would put into force on +his arrival, she did not doubt. + +Why had she been so foolish? She asked herself the question a hundred +times. And yet the clash was inevitable. She could not see Helen packed off +to Europe and her hopes destroyed at a blow. She might have stopped him +with something milder than a threat of exposure in his rival's paper. That +was the mad thing she had done. + +What effect this threat had produced on his mind she could only guess. But +she constantly came back to it with increasing fear. If he should accept +her challenge, dare her to speak, and, weary of the constant strain of her +presence in his house, put her out, it meant the end of the world. She had +lived so long in dependence on his will, the thought of beginning life +again under new conditions of humiliating service was unthinkable. + +She could only wait now until the blow fell, and adjust herself to the +situation as best she could. That she had the power to lay his life in +ruins and break Tom's heart she had never doubted. Yet this was the one +thing she did not wish to do. It meant too much to her. + +She walked on the porch and listened again to the tumult in the Square. She +had seen Tom enter the house on tip-toe and knew that the lovers were +together and smiled in grim triumph. That much of her scheme had not +failed! It only remained to be seen whether, with their love an +accomplished fact, she could wring from Norton's lips the confession she +had demanded and save her own skin in the crash. + +Andy had entered the gate and she heard him bustling in the pantry as Tom +and Helen strolled on the lawn. The band in the Square was playing their +star piece of rag-time music, "A Georgia Campmeeting." + +The stirring refrain echoed over the sleepy old town with a weird appeal +to-night. It had the ring of martial music--of hosts shouting their victory +as they marched. They were playing it with unusual swinging power. + +She turned with a gesture of impatience into the house to find Andy. He was +carrying a tray of mint juleps into the library. + +Cleo looked at him in amazement, suppressed an angry exclamation and asked: + +"What's that band playing for?" + +"White folks celebratin' de victory!" he replied enthusiastically, placing +the tray on the table. + +"It's only seven o'clock. The election returns can't be in yet?" + +"Yassam! Hit's all over but de shoutin'!" + +Cleo moved a step closer: + +"The major has won?" + +"Yassam! Yassam!" Andy answered with loud good humor, as he began to polish +a glass with a napkin. "Yassam, I des come frum dar. De news done come in. +Dey hain't gwine ter 'low de niggers ter vote no mo', 'ceptin they kin read +an' write--an' _den_ dey won't let 'em!" + +He held one of the shining glasses up to the light, examined it with +judicial care and continued in tones of resignation: + +"Don't make no diffrunce ter me, dough!--I hain't nebber got nuttin' fer my +vote nohow, 'ceptin' once when er politicioner shoved er box er cigars at +me"--he chuckled--"an' den, by golly, I had ter be a gemman, I couldn't +grab er whole handful--I des tuck four!" + +Cleo moved impatiently and glared at the tray: + +"What on earth did you bring all that stuff for? The whole mob are not +coming here, are they?" + +"Nobum--nobum! Nobody but de major, but I 'low dat he gwine ter consume +some! He's on er high hoss. Dey's 'bout ten thousand folks up dar in de +Square. De boys carry de major on dere back to de flatform an' he make 'em +a big speech. Dey sho is er-raisin' er mighty humbug. Dey gwine ter +celebrate all night out dar, an' gwine ter serenade everybody in town. But +de major comin' right home. Dey try ter git him ter stay wid 'em, but he +'low dat he got some 'portant business here at de house." + +"Important business here?" she asked anxiously. + +"Yassam, I spec him any minute." + +Cleo turned quickly toward the door and Andy called: + +"Miss Cleo!" + +She continued to go without paying any attention and he repeated his call: + +"Miss Cleo!" + +She paused indifferently, while Andy touched his lips smiling: + +"I got my mouf shet!" + +"Does it pain you?" + +"Nobum!" he laughed. + +"Keep it shut!" she replied contemptuously as she again moved toward the +door. + +"Yassam--yassam--but ain't yer got nuttin' mo' dan dat ter say ter me?" + +He asked this question with a rising inflection that might mean a threat. + +The woman walked back to him: + +"Prove your love by a year's silence----" + +"De Lawd er mussy!" Andy gasped. "A whole year?" + +"Am I not worth waiting for?" she asked with a smile. + +"Yassam--yassam," he replied slowly, "Jacob he wait seben years an' den, by +golly, de ole man cheat him outen his gal! But ef yer say so, I'se +er-waitin', honey----" + +Andy placated, her mind returned in a flash to the fear that haunted her: + +"He said important business here at once?" + +The gate closed with a vigorous slam and the echo of Norton's step was +heard on the gravel walk. + +"Yassam, dar he is now." + +Cleo trembled and hurried to the opposite door: + +"If the major asks for me, tell him I've gone to the meeting in the +Square." + +She passed quickly from the room in a panic of fear. She couldn't meet him +in this condition. She must wait a better moment. + +Andy, arranging his tray, began to mix three mint juleps, humming a +favorite song: + + "Dis time er-nudder year, + Oh, Lawd, how long! + In some lonesome graveyard-- + Woh, Lawd, how long!" + +Norton paused on the threshold with a smile and listened to the foolish +melody. His whole being was quivering with the power that thrilled from a +great act of will. He had just made a momentous decision. His work in hand +was done. He had lived for years in an atmosphere poisoned by a yellow +venomous presence. He had resolved to be free!--no matter what the cost. + +His mind flew to the boy he had grown to love with deeper tenderness the +past weeks. The only thing he really dreaded was his humiliation before +those blue eyes. But, if the worst came to worst, he must speak. There were +things darker than death--the consciousness to a proud and sensitive man +that he was the slave to an inferior was one of them. He had to be +free--free at any cost. The thought was an inspiration. + +With brisk step he entered the library and glanced with surprise at the +empty room. + +"Tom not come?" he asked briskly. + +"Nasah, I ain't seed 'im," Andy replied. + +Norton threw his linen coat on a chair, and a dreamy look came into his +deep-set eyes: + +"Well, Andy, we've made a clean sweep to-day--the old state's white again!" + +The negro, bustling over his tray, replied with unction: + +"Yassah, dat's what I done tole 'em, sah!" + +"All government rests on force, Andy! The ballot is force--physical force. +Back of every ballot is a gun----" + +He paused, drew the revolver slowly from his pocket and held it in his +hand. + +Andy glanced up from his tray and jumped in alarm: + +"Yassah, dat's so, sah--in dese parts sho, sah!" he ended his speech by a +good-natured laugh at the expense of the country that allowed itself to be +thus intimidated. + +Norton lifted the gleaming piece of steel and looked at it thoughtfully: + +"Back of every ballot a gun and the red blood of the man who holds it! No +freeman ever yet voted away his right to a revolution----" + +"Yassah--dat's what I tells dem niggers--you gwine ter giv 'em er dose er +de revolution----" + +"Well, it's done now and I've no more use for this thing--thank God!" + +He crossed to the writing desk, laid the revolver on its top and walked to +the lounge his face set with a look of brooding intensity: + +"Bah! The big battles are all fought inside, Andy! There's where the brave +die and cowards run--inside----" + +"Yassah!--I got de stuff right here fer de _inside_, sah!" he held up the +decanter with a grin. + +"From to-night my work outside is done," Norton went on moodily. "And I'm +going to be free--free! I'm no longer afraid of one of my servants----" + +He dropped into a seat and closed his fists with a gesture of intense +emotion. + +Andy looked at him in astonishment and asked incredulously: + +"Who de debbil say you'se er scared of any nigger? Show dat man ter me--who +say dat?" + +"I say it!" was the bitter answer. He had been thinking aloud, but now that +the negro had heard he didn't care. His soul was sick of subterfuge and +lies. + +Andy laughed apologetically: + +"Yassah! Cose, sah, ef you say dat hit's so, why I say hit's so--but all de +same, 'twixt you an' me, I knows tain't so!" + +"But from to-night!" Norton cried, ignoring Andy as he sprang to his feet +and looked sharply about the room: + +"Tell Cleo I wish to see her at once!" + +"She gone out in de Squar ter hear de news, sah." + +"The moment she comes let me know!" he said with sharp emphasis and turned +quickly to the door. + +"Yassah," Andy answered watching him go with amazement. "De Lawdy, major, +you ain't gwine off an' leave dese mint juleps lak dat, is ye?" + +Norton retraced a step: + +"Yes, from to-night I'm the master of my house and myself!" + +Andy looked at the tray and then at Norton: + +"Well, sah, yer ain't got no objections to me pizinin' mysef, is ye?" + +The master surveyed the grinning servant, glanced at the tray, smiled and +said: + +"No--you'll do it anyhow, so go as far as you like!" + +"Yassah!" the negro laughed as Norton turned again. "An' please, sah, won't +yer gimme jes a little advice befo' you go?" + +Norton turned a puzzled face on the grinning black one: + +"Advice?" + +"Yassah. What I wants ter know, major, is dis. Sposen, sah, dat a gemman +got ter take his choice twixt marryin' er lady dat's forcin' herself on +'im, er kill hissef?" + +"Kill her!" + +Andy broke into a loud laugh: + +"Yassah! but she's er dangous 'oman, sah! She's a fighter from +Fightersville--an' fuddermo', sah, I'se engaged to annudder lady at the +same time--an' I'se in lub wid dat one an' skeered er de fust one." + +"Face it, then. Confess your love and fight it out! Fight it out and let +them fight it out. You like to see a fight, don't you?" + +"Yassah! Oh, yassah," Andy declared bravely. "I likes ter see a fight--I +likes ter see de fur fly--but I don't care 'bout furnishin' none er de +fur!" + +Norton had reached the door when he suddenly turned, the momentary humor of +his play with the negro gone from his sombre face, the tragedy of a life +speaking in every tone as he slowly said: + +"Fight it out! It's the only thing to do--fight it out!" + +Andy stared at the retreating figure dazed by the violence of passion with +which his master had answered, wondering vaguely what could be the meaning +of the threat behind his last words. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ANDY FIGHTS + + +When Andy had recovered from his surprise at the violence of Norton's +parting advice his eye suddenly rested on the tray of untouched mint +juleps. + +A broad smile broke over his black countenance: + +"Fight it out! Fight it out!" he exclaimed with a quick movement toward the +table. "Yassah, I'm gwine do it, too, I is!" + +He paused before the array of filled glasses of the iced beverage, saluted +silently, and raised one high over his head to all imaginary friends who +might be present. His eye rested on the portrait of General Lee. He bowed +and saluted again. Further on hung Stonewall Jackson. He lifted his glass +to him, and last to Norton's grandfather in his blue and yellow colonial +regimentals. He pressed the glass to his thirsty lips and waved the julep a +jovial farewell with the palm of his left hand as he poured it gently but +firmly down to the last drop. + +He smacked his lips, drew a long breath and sighed: + +"Put ernuff er dat stuff inside er me, I kin fight er wil'cat! Yassah, an' +I gwine do it. I gwine ter be rough wid her, too! Rough wid her, I is!" + +He seized another glass and drained half of it, drew himself up with +determination, walked to the door leading to the hall toward the kitchen +and called: + +"Miss Minerva!" + +Receiving no answer, he returned quickly to the tray and took another +drink: + +"Rough wid her--dat's de way--rough wid her!" + +He pulled his vest down with a vicious jerk, bravely took one step, paused, +reached back, picked up his glass again, drained it, and walked to the +door. + +"Miss Minerva!" he called loudly and fiercely. + +From the kitchen came the answer in tender tones: + +"Yas--honey!" + +Andy retreated hastily to the table and took another drink before the huge +but smiling figure appeared in the doorway. + +"Did my true love call?" she asked softly. + +Andy groaned, grasped a glass and quickly poured another drink of Dutch +courage down. "Yassam, Miss Minerva, I thought I hear yer out dar----" + +Minerva giggled as lightly as she could considering her two hundred and +fifty pounds: + +"Yas, honey, hit's little me!" + +Andy had begun to feel the bracing effects of the two full glasses of mint +juleps. He put his hands in his pockets, walked with springing strides to +the other end of the room, returned and squared himself impressively before +Minerva. Before he could speak his courage began to fail and he stuttered: + +"M-M-M-Miss Minerva!" + +The good-humored, shining black face was raised in sharp surprise: + +"What de matter wid you, man, er hoppin' roun' over de flo' lak er flea in +er hot skillet?" + +Andy saw that the time had come when he must speak unless he meant to again +ignominiously surrender. He began boldly: + +"Miss Minerva! I got somethin' scandalous ter say ter you!" + +She glared at him, the whites of her eyes shining ominously, crossed the +room quickly and confronted Andy: + +"Don't yer dar' say nuttin' scandalizin' ter me, sah!" + +His eyes fell and he moved as if to retreat. She nudged him gently: + +"G'long, man, what is it?" + +He took courage: + +"I got ter 'fess ter you, m'am, dat I'se tangled up wid annuder 'oman!" + +The black face suddenly flashed with wrath, and her figure was electric +with battle. The very pores of her dusky skin seemed to radiate war. + +"Who bin tryin' ter steal you?" she cried. "Des sho' her ter me, an' we see +who's who!" + +Andy waved his hands in a conciliatory self-accusing gesture: + +"Yassam--yassam! But I make er fool outen myse'f about her--hit's Miss +Cleo!" + +"Cleo!" Minerva gasped, staggering back until her form collided with the +table and rattled the glasses on the tray. At the sound of the tinkling +glass, she turned, grasped a mint julep, and drank the whole of it at a +single effort. + +Andy, who had been working on a figure in the rug with the toe of his shoe +during his confession, looked up, saw that she had captured his +inspiration, and sprang back in alarm. + +Minerva paused but a moment for breath and rushed for him: + +"Dat yaller Jezebel!--tryin' ter fling er spell over you--but I gwine ter +save ye, honey!" + +Andy retreated behind the lounge, his ample protector hot on his heels: + +"Yassam!" he cried, "but I don't want ter be saved!" + +Before he had finished the plea, she had pinned him in a corner and cut off +retreat. + +"Of course yer don't!" she answered generously. "No po' sinner ever does. +But don't yer fret, honey, I'se gwine ter save ye in spite er yosef! Yer +needn't ter kick, yer needn't ter scramble, now's de time ye needs me, an +I'se gwine ter stan' by ye. Nuttin' kin shake me loose now!" + +She took a step toward him and he vainly tried to dodge. It was useless. +She hurled her ample form straight on him and lifted her arms for a +generous embrace: + +"Lordy, man, dat make me lub yer er hundred times mo!" + +Andy made up his mind in a sudden burst of courage to fight for his life. +If she once got those arms about him he was gone. He grasped them roughly +and stayed the onset: + +"Yassam!" he answered warningly. "But I got ter 'fess up ter you now de +whole truf. I bin er deceivin' you 'bout myself. I'se er bad nigger, Miss +Minerva, an' I hain't worthy ter be you' husban'!" + +"G'long, chile, I done know dat all de time!" she laughed. + +Andy walled his eyes at her uneasily, and she continued: + +"But I likes ter hear ye talk humble dat a way--hit's a good sign." + +He shook his head impatiently: + +"But ye don't know what I means!" + +"Why, of cose, I does!" she replied genially. "I always knowed dat I wuz +high above ye. I'se black, but I'se pure ez de drivellin' snow. I always +knowed, honey, dat ye wern't my equal. But ye can't help dat. I'se er born +'ristocrat. My mudder was er African princess. My grandmudder wuz er +queen--an' I'se er cook!" + +Andy stamped his foot with angry impatience; + +"Yassam--but ye git dat all wrong!" + +"Cose, you' Minerva understan's when ye comes along side er yo' true love +dat ye feels humble----" + +"Nobum! Nobum!" he broke in emphatically--"ye got dat all wrong--all +wrong!" He paused, drew a chair to the table and motioned her to a seat +opposite. + +"Des lemme tell ye now," he continued with determined kindness. "Ye see I +got ter 'fess de whole truf ter you. Tain't right ter fool ye." + +Minerva seated herself, complacently murmuring: + +"Yassah, dat's so, Brer Andy." + +He leaned over the table and looked at her a moment solemnly: + +"I gotter 'fess ter you now, Miss Minerva, dat I'se always bin a bad +nigger--what dey calls er pizen bad nigger--I'se er wife beater!" + +Minerva's eyes walled in amazement: + +"No?" + +"Yassam," he went on seriously. "When I wuz married afore I got de habit er +beatin' my wife!" + +"Beat her?" + +Andy shook his head dolefully: + +"Yassam. Hit's des lak I tell ye. I hates ter 'fess hit ter you, m'am, but +I formed de habit, same ez drinkin' licker--I beat her! I des couldn't keep +my hands offen her. I beat her scandalous! I pay no tenshun to her +hollerin!--huh!--de louder she holler, 'pears lak de harder I beat her!" + +"My, my, ain't dat terrible!" she gasped. + +"Yassam----" + +"Scandalous!" + +"Dat it is----" + +"Sinful!" + +"Jes so!" he agreed sorrowfully. + +"But man!" she cried ecstatically, "dat's what I calls er husband!" + +"Hey?" + +"Dat's de man fer me!" + +He looked at her in dismay, snatched the decanter, poured himself a +straight drink of whiskey, gulped it down, leaned over the table and +returned to his task with renewed vigor: + +"But I kin see, m'am, dat yer don't know what I means! I didn't des switch +'er wid er cowhide er de buggy whip! I got in er regular habit er lammin' +her wid anything I git hold of--wid er axe handle or wid er fire +shovel----" + +"Well, dat's all right," Minerva interrupted admiringly. "She had de same +chance ez you! I takes my chances. What I wants is er husban'--a husban' +dat's got de sand in his gizzard! Dat fust husban' er mine weren't no good +'tall--nebber hit me in his life but once--slap me in de face one day, lak +dat!" + +She gave a contemptuous imitation of the trivial blow with the palms of her +hands. + +"An' what'd you do, m'am?" Andy asked with sudden suspicion. + +"Nuttin' 'tall!" she said with a smile. "I des laf, haul off, kinder +playful lak, an' knock 'im down wid de flatiron----" + +Andy leaped to his feet and walked around the table toward the door: + +"Wid de flatiron!" he repeated incredulously. + +"Didn't hit 'im hard!" Minerva laughed. "But he tumble on de flo' lak er +ten-pin in er bowlin' alley. I stan' dar waitin' fer 'im ter git up an' +come ergin, an' what ye reckon he done?" + +"I dunno, m'am," Andy sighed, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. + +Minerva laughed joyously at the memory of the scene: + +"He jump up an' run des lak er turkey! He run all de way down town, an' +bless God ef he didn't buy me a new calico dress an' fotch hit home ter me. +He warn't no man at all! I wuz dat sorry fer 'im an' dat ershamed er him I +couldn't look 'im in de face ergin. I gits er divorce frum him----" + +She paused, rose, and looked at Andy with tender admiration: + +"But, Lordy, honey, you an' me's gwine ter have joyful times!" + +Andy made a break for the door but she was too quick for him. With a swift +swinging movement, astonishing in its rapidity for her size, she threw +herself on him and her arms encircled his neck: + +"I'se yo' woman an' you'se my man!" she cried with a finality that left her +victim without a ray of hope. He was muttering incoherent protests when +Helen's laughing voice came to his rescue: + +"Oho!" she cried, with finger uplifted in a teasing gesture. + +Minerva loosed her grip on Andy overwhelmed with embarrassment, while he +crouched behind her figure crying: + +"'Twa'n't me, Miss Helen--'twa'n't me!" + +Helen continued to laugh while Andy grasped the tray and beat a hasty +retreat. + +Helen approached Minerva teasingly: + +"Why, Aunt Minerva!" + +The big, jovial black woman glanced at her: + +"G'way, chile--g'way frum here!" + +"Aunt Minerva, I wouldn't have thought such a thing of you!" Helen said +demurely. + +Minerva broke into a jolly laugh and faced her tormentor: + +"Yassum, honey, I spec hit wuz all my fault. Love's such foolishness--yer +knows how dat is yosef!" + +A look of rapture overspread Helen's face: + +"Such a sweet, wonderful foolishness, Aunt Minerva!"--she paused and her +voice was trembling when she added--"It makes us all akin, doesn't it?" + +"Yassam, an' I sho' is glad ter see you so happy!" + +"Oh, I'm too happy, Aunt Minerva, it frightens me"--she stopped, glanced at +the door, drew nearer and continued in low tones: "I've just left Tom out +there on the lawn, to ask you to do something for me." + +"Yassam." + +"I want you to tell the major our secret to-night. He'll be proud and happy +in his victory and I want him to know at once." + +The black woman shook her head dubiously: + +"Tell him yosef, honey!" + +"But I'm afraid. The major frightens me. When I look into his deep eyes I +feel that he has the power to crush the soul out of my body and that he +will do it if I make him very angry." + +"Dat's 'cause yer deceives him, child." + +"Please tell him for us, Aunt Minerva! Oh, you've been so good to me! For +the past weeks I've been in heaven. It seems only a day instead of a month +since he told me his love and then it seems I've lived through all eternity +since I first felt his arms about me. Sitting out there in the moonlight by +his side I forget that I'm on earth, forget that there's a pain or a secret +in it. I'm just in heaven. I have to pinch myself to see if it's real"--she +smiled and pinched her arm--"I'm afraid I'll wake up and find it only a +dream!" + +"Well, yer better wake up just er minute an' tell de major--Mister Tom got +ter have it out wid him." + +"Yes, I know, and that's what scares me. Won't you tell him for us right +away? Get him in a good humor, make him laugh, say a good word for us and +then tell him. Tell him how useless it will be to oppose us. He can't hold +out long against Tom, he loves him so." + +"Mr. Tom want me ter tell de major ter-night? He ax yer ter see me?" + +"No. He doesn't know what I came for. I just decided all of a sudden to +come. I want to surprise him. He is going to tell his father himself +to-night. But somehow I'm afraid, Aunt Minerva. I want you to help us. You +will, won't you?" + +The black woman shook her head emphatically: + +"Nasah, I ain't gwine ter git mixed up in dis thing!" + +"Aunt Minerva!" + +"Nasah--I'se skeered!" + +"Ah, please?" + +"Nasah!" + +"Please----" + +"Na, na, na!" + +"Aunt Minerva----" + +"Na------" + +The girl's pleading eyes were resistless and the black lips smiled: + +"Cose I will, chile! Cose I will--I'll see 'im right away. I'll tell him de +minute I lays my eyes on 'im." + +She turned to go and ran squarely into Norton as he strode into the room. +She stopped and stammered: + +"Why--why--wuz yer lookin' fer me, major?" + +Norton gazed at her a moment and couldn't call his mind from its painful +train of thought. He spoke finally with sharp accent: + +"No. I want to see Cleo." + +Helen slipped behind Minerva: + +"Stay and tell him now. I'll go." + +"No, better wait," was her low reply, as she watched Norton furtively. "I +don't like de way his eyes er spittin' fire." + +Norton turned to Minerva sharply: + +"Find Cleo and tell her I wish to see her immediately!" + +"Yassah--yassah!" Minerva answered, nervously, whispering to Helen: "Come +on, honey--git outen here--come on!" + +Helen followed mechanically, glancing timidly back over her shoulder at +Norton's drawn face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE SECOND BLOW + + +Norton could scarcely control his eagerness to face the woman he loathed. +Every nerve of his body tingled with the agony of his desire to be free. + +He was ready for the end, no matter what she might do. The time had come in +the strong man's life when compromise, conciliation, and delay were alike +impossible. He cursed himself and his folly to-night that he had delayed so +long. He had tried to be fair to the woman he hated. His sense of justice, +personal honor, and loyalty to his pledged word, had given her the +opportunity to strike him the blow she had delivered through the girl. He +had been more than fair and he would settle it now for all time. + +That she was afraid to meet him was only too evident from her leaving the +house on his return. He smiled grimly when he recalled the effrontery with +which she had defied him at their last meeting. + +Her voice, sharp and angry, rang out to Andy at the back door. + +Norton's strong jaw closed with a snap, and he felt his whole being quiver +at the rasping sound of her familiar tones. She had evidently recovered her +composure and was ready with her usual insolence. + +She walked quickly into the room, and threw her head up with defiance: + +"Well?" + +"Why have you avoided me to-night?" + +"Have I?" + +"I think so." + +Cleo laughed sneeringly: + +"You'll think again before I'm done with you!" + +She shook her head with the old bravado, but the keen eyes of the man +watching saw that she was not sure of her ground. + +He folded his arms and quietly began: + +"For twenty years I have breathed the air poisoned by your presence. I have +seen your insolence grow until you have announced yourself the mistress of +my house. You knew that I was afraid of your tongue, and thought that a +coward would submit in the end. Well, it's over. I've held my hand for the +past four weeks until my duty to the people was done. I've been a coward +when I saw the tangled web of lies and shame in which I floundered. But the +past is past. I face life to-night as it is"--his voice dropped--"and I'm +going to take what comes. Your rule in my house is at an end----" + +"Indeed!" + +"Helen leaves here to-morrow morning and _you_ go." + +"Really?" + +"I've made a decent provision for your future--which is more than you +deserve. Pack your things!" + +The woman threw him a look of hate and her lips curved with scorn: + +"So--you have kindly allowed me to stay until your campaign was ended. +Well, I've understood you. I knew that you were getting ready for me. I'm +ready for you." + +"And you think that I will allow you to remain in my house after what has +passed between us?" + +"Yes, you will," she answered smiling. "I'm not going to leave. You'll have +to throw me into the street. And if you do, God may pity you, I'll not. +There's one thing you fear more than a public scandal!" + +Norton advanced and glared at her: + +"What?" + +"The hatred of the boy you idolize. I dare you to lay your hands on me to +put me out of this house! And if you do, Tom will hear from my lips the +story of the affair that ended in the death of his mother. I'll tell him +the truth, the whole truth, and then a great deal more than the truth----" + +"No doubt!" he interrupted. + +"But there'll be enough truth in all I say to convince him beyond a doubt. +I promise you now"--she dropped her voice to a whisper--"to lie to him with +a skill so sure, so cunning, so perfect, no denial you can ever make will +shake his faith in my words. He loves me and I'll make him believe me. When +I finish my story he ought to kill you. There's one thing you can depend on +with his high-strung and sensitive nature and the training you have given +him in racial purity--when he hears my story, he'll curse you to your face +and turn from you as if you were a leper. I'll see that he does this if +it's the last and only thing I do on this earth!" + +"And if you do----" + +"Oh, I'm not afraid!" she sneered, holding his eye with the calm assurance +of power. "I've thought it all over and I know exactly what to say." + +He leaned close: + +"Now listen! I don't want to hurt you but you're going out of my life. +Every day while I've sheltered you in this house you have schemed and +planned to drag me down again to your level. You have failed. I am not +going to risk that girl's presence here another day--and _you_ go!" + +As he spoke the last words he turned from her with a gesture of final +dismissal. She tossed her head in a light laugh and calmly said: + +"You're too late!" + +He stopped in his tracks, his heart chilled by the queer note of triumph in +her voice. Without turning or moving a muscle he asked: + +"What do you mean?" + +"Tom is already in love with Helen!" + +He wheeled and hurled himself at her: + +"What?" + +"And she is desperately in love with him"--she stopped and deliberately +laughed again in his face--"and I have known it for weeks!" + +Another step brought his trembling figure towering over her: + +"I don't believe you!" he hissed. + +Cleo walked leisurely to the door and smiled: + +"Ask the servants if you doubt my word." She finished with a sneer. "I +begged you not to fight, major!" + +He stood rooted to the spot and watched her slowly walk backward into the +hall. It was a lie, of course. And yet the calm certainty with which she +spoke chilled his soul as he recalled his own suspicions. He must know now +without a moment's delay and he must know the whole truth without +reservation. + +Before he approached either Tom or Helen there was one on whom he had +always relied to tell the truth. Her honest black face had been the one +comfort of his life through the years of shadow and deceit. If Minerva knew +she would tell him. + +He rushed to the door that led to the kitchen and called: + +"Minerva!" + +The answer came feebly: + +"Yassah." + +"Come here!" + +He had controlled his emotions sufficiently to speak his last command with +some degree of dignity. + +He walked back to the table and waited for her coming. His brain was in a +whirl of conflicting, stunning emotion. He simply couldn't face at once the +appalling possibilities such a statement involved. His mind refused to +accept it. As yet it was a lie of Cleo's fertile invention, and still his +reason told him that such a lie could serve no sane purpose in such a +crisis. He felt that he was choking. His hand involuntarily went to his +neck and fumbled at his collar. + +Minerva's heavy footstep was heard and he turned sharply: + +"Minerva!" + +"Yassah"--she answered, glancing at him timidly. Never had she seen his +face so ghastly or the look in his eye so desperate. She saw that he was +making an effort at self-control and knew instinctively that the happiness +of the lovers was at stake. It was too solemn a moment for anything save +the naked truth and her heart sank in pity and sympathy for the girl she +had promised to help. + +"Minerva," he began evenly, "you are the only servant in this house who +has never lied to me"--he took a step closer. "Are Tom and Miss Helen +lovers?" + +Minerva fumbled her apron, glanced at his drawn face, looked down on the +floor and stammered: + +"De Lordy, major----" + +"Yes or no!" he thundered. + +The black woman moistened her lips, hesitated, turned her honest face on +his and said tremblingly: + +"Yassah, dey is!" + +His eyes burned into hers: + +"And you, too, have known this for weeks?" + +"Yassah. Mister Tom ax me not ter tell ye----" + +Norton staggered to a seat and sank with a groan of despair, repeating over +and over again in low gasps the exclamation that was a sob and a prayer: + +"Great God!--Great God!" + +Minerva drew near with tender sympathy. Her voice was full of simple, +earnest pleading: + +"De Lordy, major, what's de use? Young folks is young folks, an' love's +love. What ye want ter break 'em up fer--dey's so happy! Yer know, sah, ye +can't mend er butterfly's wing er put er egg back in de shell. Miss Helen's +young, beautiful, sweet and good--won't ye let me plead fer 'em, sah?" + +With a groan of anguish Norton sprang to his feet: + +"Silence--silence!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Go--find Miss Helen--send her to me quickly. I don't want to see Mr. Tom. +I want to see her alone first." + +Minerva had backed out of his way and answered plaintively: + +"Yassah." + +She paused and extended her hand pleadingly: + +"You'll be easy wid 'em, sah?" + +He hadn't heard. The tall figure slowly sank into the chair and his +shoulders drooped in mortal weariness. + +Minerva shook her head sadly and turned to do his bidding. + +Norton's eyes were set in agony, his face white, his breast scarcely moving +to breathe, as he waited Helen's coming. The nerves suddenly snapped--he +bowed his face in his hands and sobbed aloud: + +"Oh, dear God, give me strength! I can't--I can't confess to my boy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE TEST OF LOVE + + +Norton made a desperate effort to pull himself together for his appeal to +Helen. On its outcome hung the possibility of saving himself from the +terror that haunted him. If he could tell the girl the truth and make her +see that a marriage with Tom was utterly out of the question because her +blood was stained with that of a negro, it might be possible to save +himself the humiliation of the full confession of their relationship and of +his bitter shame. + +He had made a fearful mistake in not telling her this at their first +interview, and a still more frightful mistake in rearing her in ignorance +of the truth. No life built on a lie could endure. He was still trying +desperately to hold his own on its shifting sands, but in his soul of souls +he had begun to despair of the end. He was clutching at straws. In moments +of sanity he realized it, but there was nothing else to do. The act was +instinctive. + +The girl's sensitive mind was the key to a possible solution. He had felt +instinctively on the day he told her the first fact about the disgrace of +her birth, vague and shadowy as he had left it, that she could never adjust +herself to the certainty that negro blood flowed in her veins. He had +observed that her aversion to negroes was peculiarly acute. If her love for +the boy were genuine, if it belonged to the big things of the soul, and +were not the mere animal impulse she had inherited from her mother, he +would have a ground of most powerful appeal. Love seeks not its own. If she +really loved she would sink her own life to save his. + +It was a big divine thing to demand of her and his heart sank at the +thought of her possible inheritance from Cleo. Yet he knew by an instinct +deeper and truer than reason, that the ruling power in this sensitive, +lonely creature was in the spirit, not the flesh. He recalled in vivid +flashes the moments he had felt this so keenly in their first pitiful +meeting. If he could win her consent to an immediate flight and the +sacrifice of her own desires to save the boy! It was only a hope--it was a +desperate one--but he clung to it with painful eagerness. + +Why didn't she come? The minutes seemed hours and there were minutes in +which he lived a life. + +He rose nervously and walked toward the mantel, lifted his eyes and they +rested on the portrait of his wife. + +"'My brooding spirit will watch and guard!'" + +He repeated the promise of her last scrawled message. He leaned heavily +against the mantel, his eyes burning with an unusual brightness. + +"Oh, Jean, darling," he groaned, "if you see and hear and know, let me feel +your presence! Your dear eyes are softer and kinder than the world's +to-night. Help me, I'm alone, heartsick and broken!" + +He choked down a sob, walked back to the chair and sank in silence. His +eyes were staring into space, his imagination on fire, passing in stern +review the events of his life. How futile, childish and absurd it all +seemed! What a vain and foolish thing its hope and struggles, its dreams +and ambitions! What a failure for all its surface brilliance! He was +standing again at the window behind the dais of the President of the +Senate, watching the little drooping figure of the Governor staggering away +into oblivion, and his heart went out to him in a great tenderness and +pity. He longed to roll back the years that he might follow the impulse he +had felt to hurry down the steps of the Capitol, draw the broken man into a +sheltered spot, slip his arms about him and say: + +"Who am I to judge? You're my brother--I'm sorry! Come, we'll try it again +and help one another!" + +The dream ended in a sudden start. He had heard the rustle of a dress at +the door and knew without lifting his head that she was in the room. + +Only the slightest sound had come from her dry throat, a little muffled +attempt to clear it of the tightening bands. It was scarcely audible, yet +his keen ear had caught it instantly, not only caught the excitement under +which she was struggling, but in it the painful consciousness of his +hostility and her pathetic desire to be friends. + +He rose trembling and turned his dark eyes on her white uplifted face. + +A feeling of terror suddenly weakened her knees. He was evidently not angry +as she had feared. There was something bigger and more terrible than anger +behind the mask he was struggling to draw over his mobile features. + +"What has happened, major?" she asked in a subdued voice. + +[Illustration: "Only the slightest sound came from her dry throat."] + +"That is what I must know of you, child," he replied, watching her +intently. + +She pressed closer with sudden desperate courage, her voice full of wistful +friendliness: + +"Oh, major, what have I done to offend you? I've tried so hard to win your +love and respect. All my life I've been alone in a world of strangers, +friendless and homesick----" + +He lifted his hand with a firm gesture: + +"Come, child, to the point! I must know the truth now. Tom has made love to +you?" + +She blushed: + +"I--I--wish to see Tom before I answer----" + +Norton dropped his uplifted arm with a groan: + +"Thank you," he murmured in tones scarcely audible. "I have your +answer!"--he paused and looked at her curiously--"And you love him?" + +The girl hesitated for just an instant, her blue eyes flashed and she drew +her strong, young figure erect: + +"Yes! And I'm proud of it. His love has lifted me into the sunlight and +made the world glorious--made me love everything in it--every tree and +every flower and every living thing that moves and feels-----" + +She stopped abruptly and lifted her flushed face to his: + +"I've learned to love you, in spite of your harshness to me--I love you +because you are his father!" + +He turned from her and then wheeled suddenly, his face drawn with pain: + +"Now, I must be frank, I must be brutal. I must know the truth without +reservation--how far has this thing gone?" + +"I--I--don't understand you!" + +"Marriage is impossible! I told you that and you must have realized it." + +Her head drooped: + +"You said so----" + +"Impossible--utterly impossible! And you know it"--he drew a deep breath. +"What--what are your real relations?" + +"My--real--relations?" she gasped. + +"Answer me now, before God! I'll hold your secret sacred--your life and his +may depend on it"--his voice dropped to a tense whisper. "Your love is pure +and unsullied?" + +The girl's eyes flashed with rage: + +"As pure and unsullied as his dead mother's for you!" + +"Thank God!" he breathed. "I believe you--but I had to know, child! I had +to know--there are big, terrible reasons why I had to know." + +A tear slowly stole down Helen's flushed cheeks as she quietly asked: + +"Why--why should you insult and shame me by asking that question?" + +"My knowledge of your birth." + +The girl smiled sadly: + +"Yet you might have guessed that I had learned to cherish honor and purity +before I knew I might not claim them as my birthright!" + +"Forgive me, child," he said contritely, "if in my eagerness, my fear, my +anguish, I hurt you. But I had to ask that question! I had to know. Your +answer gives me courage"--he paused and his voice quivered with deep +intensity--"you really love Tom?" + +"With a love beyond words!" + +"The big, wonderful love that comes to the human soul but once?" + +"Yes!" + +His eyes were piercing to the depths now: + +"With the deep, unselfish yearning that asks nothing for itself and seeks +only the highest good of its beloved?" + +"Yes--yes," she answered mechanically and, pausing, looked again into his +burning eyes; "but you frighten me--" she grasped a chair for support, +recovered herself and went on rapidly--"you mustn't ask me to give him +up--I won't give him up! Poor and friendless, with a shadow over my life +and everything against me, I have won him and he's mine! I have the right +to his love--I didn't ask to be born. I must live my own life. I have as +much right to happiness as you. Why must I bear the sins of my father and +mother? Have I broken the law? Haven't I a heart that can ache and break +and cry for joy?" + +He allowed the first paroxysm of her emotion to spend itself before he +replied, and then in quiet tones said: + +"You must give him up!" + +"I won't! I won't, I tell you!" she said through her set teeth as she +suddenly swung her strong, young form before him. "I won't give him up! His +love has made life worth living and I'm going to live it! I don't care what +you say--he's mine--and you shall not take him from me!" + +Norton was stunned by the fiery intensity with which her answer had been +given. There was no mistaking the strength of her character. Every vibrant +note of her voice had rung with sincerity, purity, the justice of her +cause, and the consciousness of power. He was dealing with no trembling +schoolgirl's mind, filled with sentimental dreams. A woman, in the tragic +strength of a great nature, stood before him. He felt this greatness +instinctively and met it with reverence. It could only be met thus, and as +he realized its strength, his heart took fresh courage. His own voice +became tender, eager, persuasive: + +"But suppose, my dear, I show you that you will destroy the happiness and +wreck the life of the man you love?" + +"Impossible! He knows that I'm nameless and his love is all the deeper, +truer and more manly because he realizes that I am defenseless." + +"But suppose I convince you?" + +"You can't!" + +"Suppose," he said in a queer tone, "I tell you that the barrier between +you is so real, so loathsome----" + +"Loathsome?" she repeated with a start. + +"So loathsome," he went on evenly, "that when he knows the truth, whether +he wishes it or not, he will instinctively turn from you with a shudder." + +"I won't believe it!" + +"Suppose I prove to you that marriage would wreck both your life and +his"--he gazed at her with trembling intensity--"would you give him up to +save him?" + +She held his eye steadily: + +"Yes--I'd die to save him!" + +A pitiful stillness followed. The man scarcely moved. His lips quivered and +his eyes grew dim. He looked at her pathetically and motioned her to a +seat. + +"And if I convince you," he went on tenderly, "you will submit yourself to +my advice and leave America?" + +The blue eyes never flinched as she firmly replied: + +"Yes. But I warn you that no such barrier can exist." + +"Then I must prove to you that it does." He drew a deep breath and watched +her. "You realize the fact that a man who marries a nameless girl bars +himself from all careers of honor?" + +"The honor of fools, yes--of the noble and wise, no!" + +"You refuse to see that the shame which shadows a mother's life will smirch +her children, and like a deadly gangrene at last eat the heart out of her +husband's love?" + +"My faith in him is too big----" + +"You can conceive of no such barrier?" + +"No!" + +"In the first rush of love," he replied kindly, "you feel this. Emotion +obscures reason. But there are such barriers between men and women." + +"Name one!" + +His brow clouded, his lips moved to speak and stopped. It was more +difficult to frame in speech than he had thought. His jaw closed with firm +decision at last and he began calmly: + +"I take an extreme case. Suppose, for example, your father, a proud +Southern white man, of culture, refinement and high breeding, forgot for a +moment that he was white and heard the call of the Beast, and your mother +were an octoroon--what then?" + +The girl flushed with anger: + +"Such a barrier, yes! Nothing could be more loathsome. But why ask me so +disgusting a question? No such barrier could possibly exist between us!" + +Norton's eyes were again burning into her soul as he asked in a low voice: + +"Suppose it does?" + +The girl smiled with a puzzled look: + +"Suppose it does? Of course, you're only trying to prove that such an +impossible barrier might exist! And for the sake of argument I agree that +it would be real"--she paused and her breath came in a quick gasp. She +sprang to her feet clutching at her throat, trembling from head to +foot--"What do you mean by looking at me like that?" + +Norton lowered his head and barely breathed the words: + +"That _is_ the barrier between you!" + +Helen looked at him dazed. The meaning was too big and stupefying to be +grasped at once. + +"Why, of course, major," she faltered, "you just say that to crush me in +the argument. But I've given up the point. I've granted that such a barrier +may exist and would be real. But you haven't told me the one between us." + +The man steeled his heart, turned his face away and spoke in gentle tones: + +"I am telling you the pitiful, tragic truth--your mother is a negress----" + +With a smothered cry of horror the girl threw herself on him and covered +his mouth with her hand, half gasping, half screaming her desperate appeal: + +"Stop! don't--don't say it!--take it back! Tell me that it's not true--tell +me that you only said it to convince me and I'll believe you. If the +hideous thing is true--for the love of God deny it now! If it's true--lie +to me"--her voice broke and she clung to Norton's arms with cruel +grip--"lie to me! Tell me that you didn't mean it, and I'll believe +you--truth or lie, I'll never question it! I'll never cross your purpose +again--I'll do anything you tell me, major"--she lifted her streaming eyes +and began slowly to sink to her knees--"see how humble--how obedient I am! +You don't hate me, do you? I'm just a poor, lonely girl, helpless and +friendless now at your feet"--her head sank into her hands until the +beautiful brown hair touched the floor--"have mercy! have mercy on me!" + +Norton bent low and fumbled for the trembling hand. He couldn't see and for +a moment words were impossible. + +He found her hand and pressed it gently: + +"I'm sorry, little girl! I'd lie to you if I could--but you know a lie +don't last long in this world. I've lied about you before--I'd lie now to +save you this anguish, but it's no use--we all have to face things in the +end!" + +With a mad cry of pain, the girl sprang to her feet and staggered to the +table: + +"Oh, God, how could any man with a soul--any living creature, even a beast +of the field--bring me into the world--teach me to think and feel, to laugh +and cry, and thrust me into such a hell alone! My proud father--I could +kill him!" + +Norton extended his hands to her in a gesture of instinctive sympathy: + +"Come, you'll see things in a calm light to-morrow, you are young and life +is all before you!" + +"Yes!" she cried fiercely, "a life of shame--a life of insult, of taunts, +of humiliation, of horror! The one thing I've always loathed was the touch +of a negro----" + +She stopped suddenly and lifted her hand, staring with wildly dilated eyes +at the nails of her finely shaped fingers to find if the telltale marks of +negro blood were there which she had seen on Cleo's. Finding none, the +horror in her eyes slowly softened into a look of despairing tenderness as +she went on: + +"The one passionate yearning of my soul has been to be a mother--to feel +the breath of a babe on my heart, to hear it lisp my name and know a +mother's love--the love I've starved for--and now, it can never be!" + +She had moved beyond the table in her last desperate cry and Norton +followed with a look of tenderness: + +"Nonsense," he cried persuasively, "you're but a child yourself. You can go +abroad where no such problem of white and black race exists. You can marry +there and be happy in your home and little ones, if God shall give them!" + +She turned on him savagely: + +"Well, God shall not give them! I'll see to that! I'm young, but I'm not a +fool. I know something of the laws of life. I know that Tom is not like +you"--she turned and pointed to the portrait on the wall--"he is like his +great-grandfather! Mine may have been----" + +Her voice choked with passion. She grasped a chair with one hand and tore +at the collar of her dress with the other. She had started to say "mine may +have been a black cannibal!" and the sheer horror of its possibility had +strangled her. When she had sufficiently mastered her feelings to speak she +said in a strange muffled tone: + +"I ask nothing of God now--if I could see Him, I'd curse Him to His face!" + +"Come, come!" Norton exclaimed, "this is but a passing ugly fancy--such +things rarely happen----" + +"But they do happen!" she retorted slowly. "I've known one such tragedy, of +a white mother's child coming into the world with the thick lips, kinky +hair, flat nose and black skin of a cannibal ancestor! She killed herself +when she was strong enough to leap out the window"--her voice dropped to a +dreamy chant--"yes, blood will tell--there's but one thing for me to do! I +wonder, with the yellow in me, if I'll have the courage." + +Norton spoke with persuasive tenderness: + +"You mustn't think of such madness! I'll send you abroad at once and you +can begin life over again----" + +Helen suddenly snatched the chair to which she had been holding out of her +way and faced Norton with flaming eyes: + +"I don't want to be an exile! I've been alone all my miserable orphan life! +I don't want to go abroad and die among strangers! I've just begun to live +since I came here! I love the South--it's mine--I feel it--I know it! I +love its blue skies and its fields--I love its people--they are mine! I +think as you think, feel as you feel----" + +She paused and looked at him queerly: + +"I've learned to honor, respect and love you because I've grown to feel +that you stand for what I hold highest, noblest and best in life"--the +voice died in a sob and she was silent. + +The man turned away, crying in his soul: + +"O God, I'm paying the price now!" + +"What can I do!" she went on at last. "What is life worth since I know this +leper's shame? There are millions like me, yes. If I could bend my back and +be a slave there are men and women who need my services. And there are men +I might know--yes--but I can't--I can't! I'm not a slave. I'm not bad. I +can't stoop. There's but one thing!" + +Norton's face was white with emotion: + +"I can't tell you, little girl, how sorry I am"--his voice broke. He +turned, suddenly extended his hand and cried hoarsely: "Tell me what I can +do to help you--I'll do anything on this earth that's within reason!" + +The girl looked up surprised at his anguish, wondering vaguely if he could +mean what he had said, and then threw herself at him in a burst of sudden, +fierce rebellion, her voice, low and quivering at first, rising to the +tragic power of a defiant soul in combat with overwhelming odds: + +"Then give me back the man I love--he's mine! He's mine, I tell you, body +and soul! God--gave--him--to--me! He's your son, but I love him! He's my +mate! He's of age--he's no longer yours! His time has come to build his own +home--he's mine--not yours! He's my life--and you're tearing the very heart +out of my body!" + +The white, trembling figure slowly crumpled at his feet. + +He took both of her hands, and lifted her gently: + +"Pull yourself together, child. It's hard, I know, but you begin to realize +that you must bear it. You must look things calmly in the face now." + +The girl's mouth hardened and she answered with bitterness: + +"Yes, of course--I'm nobody! We must consider you"--she staggered to a +chair and dropped limply into it, her voice a whisper--"we must consider +Tom--yes--yes--we must, too--I know that----" + +Norton pressed eagerly to her side and leaned over the drooping figure: + +"You can begin to see now that I was right," he pleaded. "You love +Tom--he's worth saving--you'll do as I ask and give him up?" + +The sensitive young face was convulsed with an agony words could not +express and the silence was pitiful. The man bending over her could hear +the throb of his own heart. A quartet of serenaders celebrating the victory +of the election stopped at the gate and the soft strains of the music came +through the open window. Norton felt that he must scream in a moment if she +did not answer. He bent low and softly repeated: + +"You'll do as I ask now, and give him up?" + +The tangled mass of brown hair sank lower and her answer was a sigh of +despair: + +"Yes!" + +The man couldn't speak at once. His eyes filled. When he had mastered his +voice he said eagerly: + +"There's but one way, you know. You must leave at once without seeing him." + +She lifted her face with a pleading look: + +"Just a moment--without letting him know what has passed between us--just +one last look into his dear face?" + +He shook his head kindly: + +"It isn't wise----" + +"Yes, I know," she sighed. "I'll go at once." + +He drew his watch and looked at it hurriedly: + +"The first train leaves in thirty minutes. Get your hat, a coat and +travelling bag and go just as you are. I'll send your things----" + +"Yes--yes"--she murmured. + +"I'll join you in a few days in New York and arrange your future. Leave the +house immediately. Tom mustn't see you. Avoid him as you cross the lawn. +I'll have a carriage at the gate in a few minutes." + +The little head sank again: + +"I understand." + +He looked uncertainly at the white drooping figure. The serenaders were +repeating the chorus of the old song in low, sweet strains that floated +over the lawn and stole through the house in weird ghost-like echoes. He +returned to her chair and bent over her: + +"You won't stop to change your dress, you'll get your hat and coat and go +just as you are--at once?" + +The brown head nodded slowly and he gazed at her tenderly: + +"You've been a brave little girl to-night"--he lifted his hand to place it +on her shoulder in the first expression of love he had ever given. The hand +paused, held by the struggle of the feelings of centuries of racial pride +and the memories of his own bitter tragedy. But the pathos of her suffering +and the heroism of her beautiful spirit won. The hand was gently lowered +and pressed the soft, round shoulder. + +A sob broke from the lonely heart, and her head drooped until it lay +prostrate on the table, the beautiful arms outstretched in helpless +surrender. + +Norton staggered blindly to the door, looked back, lifted his hand and in a +quivering voice, said: + +"I can never forget this!" + +His long stride quickly measured the distance to the gate, and a loud cheer +from the serenaders roused the girl from her stupor of pain. + +In a moment they began singing again, a love song, that tore her heart with +cruel power. + +"Oh, God, will they never stop?" she cried, closing her ears with her hands +in sheer desperation. + +She rose, crossed slowly to the window and looked out on the beautiful +moonlit lawn at the old rustic seat where her lover was waiting. She +pressed her hand on her throbbing forehead, walked to the center of the +room, looked about her in a helpless way and her eye rested on the +miniature portrait of Tom. She picked it up and gazed at it tenderly, +pressed it to her heart, and with a low sob felt her way through the door +and up the stairs to her room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE PARTING + + +Tom had grown impatient, waiting in their sheltered seat on the lawn for +Helen to return. She had gone on a mysterious mission to see Minerva, +laughingly refused to tell him its purpose, but promised to return in a few +minutes. When half an hour had passed without a sign he reconnoitered to +find Minerva, and to his surprise she, too, had disappeared. + +He returned to his trysting place and listened while the serenaders sang +their first song. Unable to endure the delay longer he started to the house +just as his father hastily left by the front door, and quickly passing the +men at the gate, hurried down town. + +The coast was clear and he moved cautiously to fathom, if possible, the +mystery of Helen's disappearance. Finding no trace of her in Minerva's +room, he entered the house and, seeing nothing of her in the halls, thrust +his head in the library and found it empty. He walked in, peeping around +with a boyish smile expecting her to leap out and surprise him. He opened +the French window and looked for her on the porch. He hurried back into the +room with a look of surprised disappointment and started to the door +opening on the hall of the stairway. He heard distinctly the rustle of a +dress and the echo on the stairs of the footstep he knew so well. + +He gave a boyish laugh, tiptoed quickly to the old-fashioned settee, +dropped behind its high back and waited her coming. + +Helen had hastily packed a travelling bag and thrown a coat over her arm. +She slowly entered the library to replace the portrait she had taken, +kissed it and started with feet of lead and set, staring eyes to slip +through the lawn and avoid Tom as she had promised. + +As she approached the corner of the settee the boy leaped up with a laugh: + +"Where have you been?" + +With a quick movement of surprise she threw the bag and coat behind her +back. Luckily he had leaped so close he could not see. + +"Where've you been?" he repeated. + +"Why, I've just come from my room," she replied with an attempt at +composure. + +"What have you got your hat for?" + +She flushed the slightest bit: + +"Why, I was going for a walk." + +"With a veil--at night--what have you got that veil for?" + +The boyish banter in his tones began to yield to a touch of wonder. + +Helen hesitated: + +"Why, the crowds of singing and shouting men on the streets. I didn't wish +to be recognized, and I wanted to hear what the speakers said." + +"You were going to leave me and go alone to the speaker's stand?" + +"Yes. Your father is going to see you and I was nervous and frightened and +wanted to pass the time until you were free again"--she paused, looked at +him intently and spoke in a queer monotone--"the negroes who can't read and +write have been disfranchised, haven't they?" + +"Yes," he answered mechanically, "the ballot should never have been given +them." + +"Yet there's something pitiful about it after all, isn't there, Tom?" She +asked the question with a strained wistfulness that startled the boy. + +He answered automatically, but his keen, young eyes were studying with +growing anxiety every movement of her face and form and every tone of her +voice: + +"I don't see it," he said carelessly. + +She laid her left hand on his arm, the right hand still holding her bag and +coat out of sight. + +"Suppose," she whispered, "that you should wake up to-morrow morning and +suddenly discover that a strain of negro blood poisoned your veins--what +would you do?" + +Tom frowned and watched her with a puzzled look: + +"Never thought of such a thing!" + +She pressed his arm eagerly: + +"Think--what would you do?" + +"What would I do?" he repeated in blank amazement. + +"Yes." + +His eyes were holding hers now with a steady stare of alarm. The questions +she asked didn't interest him. Her glittering eyes and trembling hand did. +Studying her intently he said lightly: + +"To be perfectly honest, I'd blow my brains out." + +With a cry she staggered back and threw her hand instinctively up as if to +ward a blow: + +"Yes--yes, you would--wouldn't you?" + +He was staring at her now with blanched face and she was vainly trying to +hide her bag and coat. + +He seized her arms: + +"Why are you so excited? Why do you tremble so?"--he drew the arm around +that she was holding back--"What is it? What's the matter?" + +His eye rested on the bag, he turned deadly pale and she dropped it with a +sigh. + +"What--what--does this mean?" he gasped. "You are trying to leave me +without a word?" + +She staggered and fell limp into a seat: + +"Oh, Tom, the end has come, and I must go!" + +"Go!" he cried indignantly, "then I go, too!" + +"But you can't, dear!" + +"And why not?" + +"Your father has just told me the whole hideous secret of my birth--and +it's hopeless!" + +"What sort of man do you think I am? What sort of love do you think I've +given you? Separate us after the solemn vows we've given to each other! +Neither man nor the devil can come between us now!" + +She looked at him wistfully: + +"It's sweet to hear such words--though I know you can't make them good." + +"I'll make them good," he broke in, "with every drop of blood in my +veins--and no coward has ever borne my father's name--it's good blood!" + +"That's just it--and blood will tell. It's the law of life and I've given +up." + +"Well, I haven't given up," he protested, "remember that! Try me with your +secret--I laugh before I hear it!" + +With a gleam of hope in her deep blue eyes she rose trembling: + +"You really mean that? If I go an outcast you would go with me?" + +"Yes--yes." + +"And if a curse is branded on my forehead you'll take its shame as yours?" + +"Yes." + +She laid her hand on his arm, looked long and yearningly into his eyes, and +said: + +"Your father has just told me that I am a negress--my mother is an +octoroon!" + +The boy flinched involuntarily, stared in silence an instant, and his form +suddenly stiffened: + +"I don't believe a word of it! My father has been deceived. It's +preposterous!" + +Helen drew closer as if for shelter and clung to his hand wistfully: + +"It does seem a horrible joke, doesn't it? I can't realize it. But it's +true. The major gave me his solemn word in tears of sympathy. He knew both +my father and mother. I am a negress!" + +The boy's arm unconsciously shrank the slightest bit from her touch while +he stared at her with wildly dilated eyes and spoke in a hoarse whisper: + +"It's impossible! It's impossible--I tell you!" + +He attempted to lift his hand to place it on his throbbing forehead. Helen +clung to him in frantic grief and terror: + +"Please, please--don't shrink from me! Have pity on me! If you feel that +way, for God's sake don't let me see it--don't let me know it--I--I--can't +endure it! I can't----" + +The tense figure collapsed in his arms and the brown head sank on his +breast with a sob of despair. The boy pressed her to his heart and held her +close. He felt her body shiver as he pushed the tangled ringlets back from +her high, fair forehead and felt the cold beads of perspiration. The +serenaders at the gate were singing again--a negro folk-song. The absurd +childish words which he knew so well rang through the house, a chanting +mockery. + +"There, there," he whispered tenderly, "I didn't shrink from you, dear. I +couldn't shrink from you--you only imagined it. I was just stunned for a +moment. The blow blinded me. But it's all right now, I see things clearly. +I love you--that's all--and love is from God, or it's not love, it's a +sham----" + +A low sob and she clung to him with desperate tenderness. + +He bent his head close until the blonde hair mingled with the rich brown: + +"Hush, my own! If a single nerve of my body shrank from your little hand, +find it and I'll tear it out!" + +She withdrew herself slowly from his embrace, and brushed the tears from +her eyes with a little movement of quiet resignation: + +"It's all right. I'm calm again and it's all over. I won't mind now if you +shrink a little. I'm really glad that you did. It needed just that to +convince me that your father was right. Our love would end in the ruin of +your life. I see it clearly now. It would become to you at last a conscious +degradation. _That_ I couldn't endure." + +"I have your solemn vow," he interrupted impatiently, "you're mine! I'll +not give you up!" + +She looked at him sadly: + +"But I'm going, dear, in a few minutes. You can't hold me--now that I know +it's for the best." + +"You can't mean this?" + +She clung to his hand and pressed it with cruel force: + +"Don't think it isn't hard. All my life I've been a wistful beggar, eager +and hungry for love. In your arms I had forgotten the long days of misery. +I've been happy--perfectly, divinely happy! It will be hard, the darkness +and the loneliness again. But I can't drag you down, my sweetheart, my +hero! Your life must be big and brilliant. I've dreamed it thus. You shall +be a man among men, the world's great men--and so I am going out of your +life!" + +"You shall not!" the boy cried fiercely. "I tell you I don't believe this +hideous thing--it's a lie, I tell you--it's a lie, and I don't care who +says it! Nothing shall separate us now. I'll go with you to the ends of the +earth and if you sink into hell, I'll follow you there, lift you in my arms +and fight my way back through its flames!" + +She smiled at him tenderly: + +"It's beautiful to hear you say that, dearest, but our dream has ended!" + +She stooped, took up the bag and coat, paused and looked into his face with +the hunger and longing of a life burning in her eyes: + +"But I shall keep the memory of every sweet and foolish word you have +spoken, every tone of your voice, every line of your face, every smile and +trick of your lips and eyes! I know them all. The old darkness will not be +the same. I have loved and I have lived. A divine fire has been kindled in +my soul. I can go into no world so far I shall not feel the warmth of your +love, your kisses on my lips, your strong arms pressing me to your +heart--the one true, manly heart that has loved me. I shall see your face +forever though I see it through a mist of tears--good-by!" + +The last word was the merest whisper. + +The boy sprang toward her: + +"I won't say it--I won't--I won't!" + +"But you must!" + +He opened his arms and called in tones of compelling anguish: + +"Helen!" + +The girl's lips trembled, her eyes grew dim, her fingers were locked in a +cruel grip trying to hold the bag which slipped to the floor. And then with +a cry she threw herself madly into his arms: + +"Oh, I can't give you up, dearest! I can't--I've tried--but I can't!" + +He held her clasped without a word, stroking her hair, kissing it tenderly +and murmuring little inarticulate cries of love. + +Norton suddenly appeared in the door, his face blanched with horror. With a +rush of his tall figure he was by their side and hurled them apart: + +"My God! Do you know what you're doing?" + +He turned on Tom, his face white with pain: + +"I forbid you to ever see or speak to this girl again!" + +Tom sprang back and confronted his father: + +"Forbid!" + +Helen lifted her head: + +"He's right, Tom." + +"Yes," the father said with bated breath, "in the name of the law--by all +that's pure and holy, by the memory of the mother who bore you and the +angels who guard the sanctity of every home, I forbid you!" + +The boy squared himself and drew his figure to its full height: + +"You're my father! But I want you to remember that I'm of age. I'm +twenty-two years old and I'm a man! Forbid? How dare you use such words to +me in the presence of the woman I love?" + +Norton's voice dropped to pitiful tenderness: + +"You--you--don't understand, my boy. Helen knows that--I'm right. We have +talked it over. She has agreed to go at once. The carriage will be at the +door in a moment. She can never see you again"--he paused and lifted his +hand solemnly above Tom's head--"and in the name of Almighty God I warn you +not to attempt to follow her----" + +He turned quickly, picked up the fallen bag and coat and added: + +"I'll explain all to you at last if I must." + +"Well, I won't hear it!" Tom cried in rage. "I'm a free agent! I won't take +such orders from you or any other man!" + +The sound of the carriage wheels were heard on the graveled drive at the +door. + +Norton turned to Helen and took her arm: + +"Come, Helen, the carriage is waiting." + +With a sudden leap Tom was by his side, tore the bag and coat from his +hand, hurled them to the floor and turned on his father with blazing eyes: + +"Now, look here, Dad, this thing's going too far! You can't bulldoze me. +There's one right no American man ever yields without the loss of his +self-respect--the right to choose the woman he loves. When Helen leaves +this house, I go with her! I'm running this thing now--your carriage +needn't wait." + +With sudden decision he rushed to the porch and and called: + +"Driver!" + +"Yassah." + +"Go back to your stable--you're not wanted." + +"Yassah." + +"I'll send for you if I want you--wait a minute till I tell you." + +Norton's head drooped and he blindly grasped a chair. + +Helen watched him with growing pity, drew near and said softly: + +"I'm sorry, major, to have brought you this pain----" + +"You promised to go without seeing him!" he exclaimed bitterly. + +"I tried. I only gave up for a moment. I fought bravely. Remember now in +all you say to Tom that I am going--that I know I must go----" + +"Yes, I understand, child," he replied brokenly, "and my heart goes out to +you. Mine is heavy to-night with a burden greater than I can bear. You're a +brave little girl. The fault isn't yours--it's mine. I've got to face it +now"--he paused and looked at her tenderly. "You say that you've been +lonely--well, remember that in all your orphan life you never saw an hour +as lonely as the one my soul is passing through now! The loneliest road +across this earth is the way of sin." + +Helen watched him in amazement: + +"The way of sin--why----" + +Tom's brusque entrance interrupted her. With quick, firm decision he took +her arm and led her to the door opening on the hall: + +"Wait for me in your room, dear," he said quietly. "I have something to say +to my father." + +She looked at him timidly: + +"You won't forget that he is your father, and loves you better than his own +life?" + +"I'll not forget." + +She started with sudden alarm and whispered: + +"You haven't got the pistol that you brought home to-day from the campaign, +have you?" + +"Surely, dear----" + +"Give it to me!" she demanded. + +"No." + +"Why?" she asked pleadingly. + +"I've too much self-respect." + +She looked into his clear eyes: + +"Forgive me, dear, but I was so frightened just now. You were so violent. I +never saw you like that before. I was afraid something might happen in a +moment of blind passion, and I could never lift my head again----" + +"I'll not forget," he broke in, "if my father does. Run now, dear, I'll +join you in a few minutes." + +A pressure of the hand, a look of love, and she was gone. The boy closed +the door, quickly turned and faced his father. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +FATHER AND SON + + +Norton had ignored the scene between Helen and Tom and his stunned mind was +making a desperate fight to prepare for the struggle that was inevitable. + +The thing that gave him fresh courage was the promise the girl had repeated +that she would go. Somehow he had grown to trust her implicitly. He hadn't +time as yet to realize the pity and pathos of such a trust in such an hour. +He simply believed that she would keep her word. He had to win his fight +now with the boy without the surrender of his secret. Could he do it? It +was doubtful, but he was going to try. His back was to the wall. + +Tom took another step into the room and the father turned, drew his tall +figure erect in an instinctive movement of sorrowful dignity and reserve +and walked to the table. + +All traces of anger had passed from the boy's handsome young face and a +look of regret had taken its place. He began speaking very quietly and +reverently: + +"Now, Dad, we must face this thing. It's a tragedy for you perhaps----" + +The father interrupted: + +"How big a tragedy, my son, I hope that you may never know----" + +"Anyhow," Tom went on frankly, "I am ashamed of the way I acted. But you're +a manly man and you can understand." + +"Yes." + +"I know that all you've done is because you love me----" + +"How deeply, you can never know." + +"I'm sorry if I forgot for a moment the respect I owe you, the reverence +and love I hold for you--I've always been proud of you, Dad--of your +stainless name, of the birthright you have given me--you know this----" + +"Yet it's good to hear you say it!" + +"And now that I've said this, you'd as well know first as last that any +argument about Helen is idle between us. I'm not going to give up the woman +I love!" + +"Ah, my boy----" + +Tom lifted his hand emphatically: + +"It's no use! You needn't tell me that her blood is tainted--I don't +believe it!" + +The father came closer: + +"You _do_ believe it! In the first mad riot of passion you're only trying +to fool yourself." + +"It's unthinkable, I tell you! and I've made my decision"--he paused a +moment and then demanded: "How do you know her blood is tainted?" + +The father answered firmly: + +"I have the word both of her mother and father." + +"Well, I won't take their word. Some natures are their own defense. On them +no stain can rest, and I stake my life on Helen's!" + +"My boy----" + +"Oh, I know what you're going to say--as a theory it's quite correct. But +it's one thing to accept a theory, another to meet the thing in your own +heart before God alone with your life in your hands." + +"What do you mean by that?" the father asked savagely. + +"That for the past hour I've been doing some thinking on my own account." + +"That's just what you haven't been doing. You haven't thought at all. If +you had, you'd know that you can't marry this girl. Come, come, my boy, +remember that you have reason and because you have this power that's bigger +than all passion, all desire, all impulse, you're a man, not a brute----" + +"All right," the boy broke in excitedly, "submit it to reason! I'll stand +the test--it's more than you can do. I love this girl--she's my mate. She +loves me and I am hers. Haven't I taken my stand squarely on Nature and her +highest law?" + +"No!" + +"What's higher? Social fictions--prejudices?" + +The father lifted his head: + +"Prejudices! You know as well as I that the white man's instinct of racial +purity is not prejudice, but God's first law of life--the instinct of +self-preservation! The lion does not mate with the jackal!" + +The boy flushed angrily: + +"The girl I love is as fair as you or I." + +"Even so," was the quick reply, "we inherit ninety per cent. of character +from our dead ancestors! Born of a single black progenitor, she is still a +negress. Change every black skin in America to-morrow to the white of a +lily and we'd yet have ten million negroes--ten million negroes whose +blood relatives are living in Africa the life of a savage." + +"Granted that what you say it true--and I refuse to believe it--I still +have the right to live my own life in my own way." + +"No man has the right to live life in his own way if by that way he imperil +millions." + +"And whom would I imperil?" + +"The future American. No white man ever lived who desired to be a negro. +Every negro longs to be a white man. No black man has ever added an iota to +the knowledge of the world of any value to humanity. In Helen's body flows +sixteen million tiny drops of blood--one million black--poisoned by the +inheritance of thousands of years of savage cruelty, ignorance, slavery and +superstition. The life of generations are bound up in you. In you are wrapt +the onward years. Man's place in nature is no longer a myth. You are bound +by the laws of heredity--laws that demand a nobler not a baser race of men! +Shall we improve the breed of horses and degrade our men? You have no right +to damn a child with such a legacy!" + +"But I tell you I'm not trying to--I refuse to see in her this stain!" + +The father strode angrily to the other side of the room in an effort to +control his feelings: + +"Because you refuse to think, my boy!" he cried in agony. "I tell you, you +can't defy these laws! They are eternal--never new, never old--true a +thousand years ago, to-day, to-morrow and on a million years, when this +earth is thrown, a burnt cinder, into God's dust heap. I can't tell you +what I feel--it strangles me!" + +"No, and I can't understand it. I feel one thing, the touch of the hand of +the woman I love; hear one thing, the music of her voice----" + +"And in that voice, my boy, I hear the crooning of a savage mother! But +yesterday our negroes were brought here from the West Soudan, black, +chattering savages, nearer the anthropoid ape than any other living +creature. And you would dare give to a child such a mother? Who is this +dusky figure of the forest with whom you would cross your blood? In old +Andy there you see him to-day, a creature half child, half animal. For +thousands of years beyond the seas he stole his food, worked his wife, sold +his child, and ate his brother--great God, could any tragedy be more +hideous than our degradation at last to his racial level!" + +"It can't happen! It's a myth!" + +"It's the most dangerous thing that threatens the future!" the father cried +with desperate earnestness. "A pint of ink can make black gallons of water. +The barriers once down, ten million negroes can poison the source of life +and character for a hundred million whites. This nation is great for one +reason only--because of the breed of men who created the Republic! Oh, my +boy, when you look on these walls at your fathers, don't you see this, +don't you feel this, don't you know this?" + +Tom shook his head: + +"To-night I feel and know one thing. I love her! We don't choose whom we +love----" + +"Ah, but if we are more than animals, if we reason, we do choose whom we +marry! Marriage is not merely a question of personal whim, impulse or +passion. It's the one divine law on which human society rests. There are +always men who hear the call of the Beast and fall below their ideals, who +trail the divine standards of life in the dust as they slink under the +cover of night----" + +"At least, I'm not trying to do that!" + +"No, worse! You would trample them under your feet at noon in defiance of +the laws of man and God! You're insane for the moment. You're mad with +passion. You're not really listening to me at all--I feel it!" + +"Perhaps I'm not----" + +"Yet you don't question the truth of what I've said. You can't question it. +You just stand here blind and maddened by desire, while I beg and plead, +saying in your heart: 'I want this woman and I'm going to have her.' You've +never faced the question that she's a negress--you can't face it, and yet I +tell you that I know it's true!" + +The boy turned on his father and studied him angrily for a moment, his blue +eyes burning into his, his face flushed and his lips curled with the +slightest touch of incredulity: + +"And do you really believe all you've been saying to me?" + +"As I believe in God!" + +With a quick, angry gesture he faced his father: + +"Well, you've had a mighty poor way of showing it! If you really believed +all you've been saying to me, you wouldn't stop to eat or sleep until every +negro is removed from physical contact with the white race. And yet on the +day that I was born you placed me in the arms of a negress! The first human +face on which I looked was hers. I grew at her breast. You let her love me +and teach me to love her. You keep only negro servants. I grow up with +them, fall into their lazy ways, laugh at their antics and see life through +their eyes, and now that my life touches theirs at a thousand points of +contact, you tell me that we must live together and yet a gulf separates +us! Why haven't you realized this before? If what you say about Helen is +true, in God's name--I ask it out of a heart quivering with anguish--why +haven't you realized it before? I demand an answer! I have the right to +know!" + +Norton's head was lowered while the boy poured out his passionate protest +and he lifted it at the end with a look of despair: + +"You have the right to know, my boy. But the South has not a valid answer +to your cry. The Negro is not here by my act or will, and their continued +presence is a constant threat against our civilization. Equality is the law +of life and we dare not grant it to the negro unless we are willing to +descend to his racial level. We cannot lift him to ours. This truth forced +me into a new life purpose twenty years ago. The campaign I have just +fought and won is the first step in a larger movement to find an answer to +your question in the complete separation of the races--and nothing is surer +than that the South will maintain the purity of her home! It's as fixed as +her faith in God!" + +The boy was quiet a moment and looked at the tall figure with a queer +expression: + +"Has she maintained it?" + +"Yes." + +"Is her home life clean?" + +"Yes." + +"And these millions of children born in the shadows--these mulattoes?" + +The older man's lips trembled and his brow clouded: + +"The lawless have always defied the law, my son, North, South, East and +West, but they have never defended their crimes. Dare to do this thing +that's in your heart and you make of crime a virtue and ask God's blessing +on it. The difference between the two things is as deep and wide as the +gulf between heaven and hell." + +"My marriage to Helen will be the purest and most solemn act of my +life----" + +"Silence, sir!" the father thundered in a burst of uncontrollable passion, +as he turned suddenly on him, his face blanched and his whole body +trembling. "I tell you once for all that your marriage to this girl is a +physical and moral impossibility! And I refuse to argue with you a question +that's beyond all argument!" + +The two men glared at each other in a duel of wills in which steel cut +steel without a tremor of yielding. And then with a sudden flash of anger, +Tom turned on his heel crying: + +"All right, then!" + +With swift, determined step he moved toward the door. The father grasped +the corner of the table for support: + +"Tom!" + +His hands were extended in pitiful appeal when the boy stopped as if in +deep study, turned, looked at him, and walked deliberately back: + +"I'm going to ask you some personal questions!" + +In spite of his attempt at self-control, Norton's face paled. He drew +himself up with an attempt at dignified adjustment to the new situation, +but his hands were trembling as he nervously repeated: + +"Personal questions?" + +"Yes. There's something very queer about your position. Your creed forbids +you to receive a negro as a social equal?" + +"Yes." + +The boy suddenly lifted his head: + +"Why did you bring Helen into this house?" + +"I didn't bring her." + +"You didn't invite her?" + +"No." + +"She says that you did." + +"She thought so." + +"She got an invitation?" + +"Yes." + +"Signed with your name?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"Who dared to write such a letter without your knowledge?" + +"I can't tell you that." + +"I demand it!" + +Norton struggled between anger and fear and finally answered in measured +tones: + +"It was forged by an enemy who wished to embarrass me in this campaign." + +"You know who wrote it?" + +"I suspect." + +"You don't _know_?" + +"I said, I suspect," was the angry retort. + +"And you didn't kill him?" + +"In this campaign my hands were tied." + +The boy, watching furtively his father's increasing nervousness and anger, +continued his questions in a slower, cooler tone: + +"When you returned and found her here, you could have put her out?" + +"Yes," Norton answered tremblingly, "and I ought to have done it!" + +"But you didn't?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +The father fumbled his watch chain, moved uneasily and finally said with +firmness: + +"I am Helen's guardian!" + +The boy lifted his brows: + +"You are supposed to be his attorney only. Why did you, of all men on +earth, accept such a position?" + +"I felt that I had to." + +"And the possibility of my meeting this girl never occurred to you? You, +who have dinned into my ears from childhood that I should keep myself clean +from the touch of such pollution--why did you take the risk?" + +"A sense of duty to one to whom I felt bound." + +"Duty?" + +"Yes." + +"It must have been deep--what duty?" + +Norton lifted his hand in a movement of wounded pride: + +"My boy!" + +"Come, come, Dad, don't shuffle; this thing's a matter of life and death +with me and you must be fair----" + +"I'm trying----" + +"I want to know why you are Helen's guardian, exactly why. We must face +each other to-day with souls bare--why are you her guardian?" + +"I--I--can't tell you." + +"You've got to tell me!" + +"You must trust me in this, my son!" + +"I won't do it!" the boy cried, trembling with passion that brought the +tears blinding to his eyes. "We're not father and son now. We face each +other man to man with two lives at stake--hers and mine! You can't ask me +to trust you! I won't do it--I've got to know!" + +The father turned away: + +"I can't betray this secret even to you, my boy." + +"Does any one else share it?" + +"Why do you use that queer tone? What do you mean?" The father's last +question was barely breathed. + +"Nothing," the boy answered with a toss of his head. "Does any one in this +house suspect it?" + +"Possibly." + +Again Tom paused, watching keenly: + +"On the day you returned and found Helen here, you quarrelled with Cleo?" + +Norton wheeled with sudden violence: + +"We won't discuss this question further, sir!" + +"Yes, we will," was the steady answer through set teeth. "Haven't you been +afraid of Cleo?" + +The father's eyes were looking into his now with a steady stare: + +"I refuse to be cross-examined, sir!" + +Tom ignored his answer: + +"Hasn't Cleo been blackmailing you?" + +"No--no." + +The boy held his father's gaze until it wavered, and then in cold tones +said: + +"You are not telling me the truth!" + +Norton flinched as if struck: + +"Do you know what you are saying. Have you lost your senses?" + +Tom held his ground with dogged coolness: + +"_Have_ you told me the truth?" + +"Yes." + +"It's a lie!" + +The words were scarcely spoken when Norton's clenched fist struck him a +blow full in the face. + +A wild cry of surprise, inarticulate in fury, came from the boy's lips as +he staggered against the table. He glared at his father, drew back a step, +his lips twitching, his breath coming in gasps, and suddenly felt for the +revolver in his pocket. + +With a start of horror the father cried: + +"My boy!" + +The hand dropped limp, he leaned against the table for support and sobbed: + +"O God! Let me die!" + +Norton rushed to his side, his voice choking with grief: + +"Tom, listen!" + +"I won't listen!" he hissed. "I never want to hear the sound of your voice +again!" + +"Don't say that--you don't mean it!" the father pleaded. + +"I do mean it!" + +Norton touched his arm tenderly: + +"You can't mean it, Tom. You're all I've got in the world. You mustn't say +that. Forgive me--I was mad. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't mean +to strike you. I forgot for a moment that you're a man, proud and sensitive +as I am----" + +The boy tore himself free from his touch and crossed the room with quick, +angry stride and turned: + +"Well, you'd better not forget it again"--he paused and drew himself erect. +"You're my father, but I tell you to your face that I hate and loathe +you----" + +The silver-gray head drooped: + +"That I should have lived to hear it!" + +"And I want you to understand one thing," Tom went on fiercely, "if an +angel from heaven told me that Helen's blood was tainted, I'd demand +proofs! You have shown none, and I'm not going to give up the woman I +love!" + +Norton supported himself by the table and felt his way along its edges as +if blinded. His eyes were set with a half-mad stare as he gripped Tom's +shoulders: + +"I love you, my boy, with a love beyond your ken, a love that can be fierce +and cruel when God calls, and sooner than see you marry this girl, I'll +kill you with my own hands if I must!" + +The answer came slowly: + +"And you can't guess what's happened?" + +"Guess--what's--happened!" the father repeated in a whisper. "What do you +mean?" + +"That I'm married already!" + +With hands uplifted, his features convulsed, the father fell back, his +voice a low piteous shriek: + +"Merciful God!--No!" + +"Married an hour before you dragged me away in that campaign!" he shouted +in triumph. "I knew you'd never consent and so I took matters into my own +hands!" + +With a leap Norton grasped the boy again and shook him madly: + +"Married already? It's not true, I tell you! It's not true. You're lying to +me--lying to gain time--it's not true!" + +"You wish me to swear it?" + +"Silence, sir!" the father cried in solemn tones. "You are my son--this is +my house--I order you to be silent!" + +"Before God, I swear it's true! Helen is my lawful----" + +"Don't say it! It's false--you lie, I tell you!" Again the father shook him +with cruel violence, his eyes staring with the glitter of a maniac. + +Tom seized the trembling hands and threw them from his shoulders with a +quick movement of anger: + +"If that's all you've got to say, sir, excuse me, I'll go to my wife!" + +He wheeled, slammed the door and was gone. + +The father stared a moment, stunned, looked around blankly, placed his +hands over his ears and held them, crying: + +"God have mercy!" + +He rushed to a window and threw it open. The band was playing "For He's a +Jolly Good Fellow!" The mocking strains rolled over his prostrate soul. He +leaned heavily against the casement and groaned: + +"My God!" + +He slammed the sash, staggered back into the room, lifted his eyes in a +leaden stare at the portrait over the mantel, and then rushed toward it +with uplifted arms and streaming eyes: + +"It's not true, dearest! Don't believe it--it's not true, I tell you! It's +not true!" + +The voice sank into inarticulate sobs, he reeled and fell, a limp, black +heap on the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE ONE CHANCE + + +The dim light began to creep into the darkened brain at last. Norton's eyes +opened wider and the long arms felt their way on the floor until they +touched a rug and then a chair. He tried to think what had happened and why +he was lying there. It seemed a dream, half feverish, half restful. His +head was aching and he was very tired. + +"What's the matter?" he murmured, unable to lift his head. + +He was whirling through space again and the room faded. Once before in his +life had he been knocked insensible. From the trenches before Petersburg in +the last days of the war he had led his little band of less than five +hundred ragged, half-starved, tatterdemalions in a mad charge against the +line in front. A bomb from a battery on a hilltop exploded directly before +them. He had been thrown into the air and landed on a heap of dead bodies, +bruised and stunned into insensibility. He had waked feeling the dead limbs +and wondering if they were his own. + +He rubbed his hands now, first over his head, and then over each limb, to +find if all were there. He felt his body to see if a bomb had torn part of +it away. + +And then the light of memory suddenly flashed into the darkened mind and +he drew himself to his knees and fumbled his way to a chair. + +"Married? Married already!" he gasped. "O, God, it can't be true! And he +said, 'married an hour before you dragged me away in that campaign'"--it +was too hideous! He laughed in sheer desperation and again his brain +refused to work. He pressed his hands to his forehead and looked about the +room, rose, staggered to the bell and rang for Andy. + +When his black face appeared, he lifted his bloodshot eyes and said feebly: + +"Whiskey----" + +The negro bowed: + +"Yassah!" + +He pulled himself together and tried to walk. He could only reel from one +piece of furniture to the next. His head was on fire. He leaned again +against the mantel for support and dropped his head on his arm in utter +weariness: + +"I must think! I must think!" + +Slowly the power to reason returned. + +"What can I do? What can I do?" he kept repeating mechanically, until the +only chance of escape crept slowly into his mind. He grasped it with +feverish hope. + +If Tom had married but an hour before leaving on that campaign, he hadn't +returned until to-day. But had he? It was, of course, a physical +possibility. From the nearby counties, he could have ridden a swift horse +through the night, reached home and returned the next day without his +knowing it. It was possible, but not probable. He wouldn't believe it until +he had to. + +If he had married in haste the morning he had left town and had only +rejoined Helen to-night, it was no marriage. It was a ceremony that had no +meaning. In law it was void and could be annulled immediately. But if he +were really married in all that word means--his mind stopped short and +refused to go on. + +He would cross that bridge when he came to it. But he must find out at once +and he must know before he saw Tom again. + +His brain responded with its old vigor under the pressure of the new +crisis. One by one his powers returned and his mind was deep in its tragic +problem when Andy entered the room with a tray on which stood a decanter of +whiskey, a glass of water and two small empty glasses. + +The negro extended the tray. Norton was staring into space and paid no +attention. + +Andy took one of the empty glasses and clicked it against the other. There +was still no sign of recognition until he pushed the tray against Norton's +arm and cleared his throat: + +"Ahem! Ahem!" + +The dazed man turned slowly and looked at the tray and then at the grinning +negro: + +"What's this?" + +Andy's face kindled with enthusiasm: + +"Dat is moonshine, sah--de purest mountain dew--yassah!" + +"Whiskey?" + +"Yassah," was the astonished reply, "de whiskey you jis ring fer, sah!" + +"Take it back!" + +Andy could not believe his ears. The major was certainly in a queer mood. +Was he losing his mind? + +There was nothing to do but obey. He bowed and turned away: + +"Yassah." + +Norton watched him with a dazed look and cried suddenly: + +"Where are you going?" + +"Back!" + +"Stop!" + +Andy stopped with a sudden jerk: + +"Yassah!" + +"Put that tray down on the table!" + +The negro obeyed but watched his master out of the corners of his eye: + +"Yassah!" + +Again Norton forgot Andy's existence, his eyes fixed in space, his mind in +a whirl of speculation in which he felt his soul and body sinking deeper. +The negro was watching him with increasing suspicion and fear as he turned +his head in the direction of the table. + +"What are you standing there for?" he asked sharply. + +"You say stop, sah." + +"Well, get away--get out!" Norton cried with sudden anger. + +Andy backed rapidly: + +"Yassah!" + +As he reached the doorway Norton's command rang so sharply that the negro +spun around on one foot: + +"Wait!" + +"Y--yas--sah!" + +The master took a step toward the trembling figure with an imperious +gesture: + +"Come here!" + +Andy approached gingerly, glancing from side to side for the best way of +retreat in case of emergency: + +"What's the matter with you?" Norton demanded. + +Andy laughed feebly: + +"I--I--I dunno, sah; I wuz des wonderin' what's de matter wid you, sah!" + +"Tell me!" + +The negro's teeth were chattering as he glanced up: + +"Yassah! I tell all I know, sah!" + +Norton fixed him with a stern look: + +"Has Tom been back here during the past four weeks?" + +"Nasah!" was the surprised answer, "he bin wid you, sah!" + +The voice softened to persuasive tones: + +"He hasn't slipped back here even for an hour since I've been gone?" + +"I nebber seed him!" + +"I didn't ask you," Norton said threateningly, "whether you'd 'seed' +him"--he paused and dropped each word with deliberate emphasis--"I asked +you if you knew whether he'd been here?" + +Andy mopped his brow and glanced at his inquisitor with terror: + +"Nasah, I don't know nuttin', sah!" + +"Haven't you lied to me?" + +"Yassah! yassah," the negro replied in friendly conciliation. "I has +pér-var-i-cated sometimes--but I sho is tellin' you de truf dis time, sah!" + +The master glared at him a moment and suddenly sprang at his throat, both +hands clasping his neck with a strangling grip. Andy dropped spluttering +to his knees. + +"You're lying to me!" Norton growled. "Out with the truth now"--his grip +tightened--"out with it, or I'll choke it out of you!" + +Andy grasped the tightening fingers and drew them down: + +"Fer Gawd's sake, major, doan' do dat!" + +"Has Tom been back here during the past weeks to see Miss Helen?" + +Andy struggled with the desperate fingers: + +"Doan' do dat, major--doan' do dat! I ain't holdin' nuttin' back--I let it +all out, sah!" + +The grip slackened: + +"Then out with the whole truth!" + +"Yassah. Des tell me what ye wants me ter say, sah, an' I sho say hit!" + +"Bah! You miserable liar!" Norton cried in disgust, hurling him to the +floor, and striding angrily from the room. "You're all in this thing, all +of you! You're all in it--all in it!" + +Andy scrambled to his feet and rushed to the window in time to see him +hurry down the steps and disappear in the shadows of the lawn. He stood +watching with open mouth and staring eyes: + +"Well, 'fore de Lawd, ef he ain't done gone plum crazy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +BETWEEN TWO FIRES + + +So intent was Andy's watch on the lawn, so rapt his wonder and terror at +the sudden assault, he failed to hear Cleo's step as she entered the room, +walked to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder: + +"Andy----" + +With a loud groan he dropped to his knees: + +"De Lawd save me!" + +Cleo drew back with amazement at the prostrate figure: + +"What on earth's the matter?" + +"Oh--oh, Lawd," he shivered, scrambling to his feet and mopping his brow. +"Lordy, I thought de major got me dat time sho!" + +"You thought the major had you?" Cleo cried incredulously. + +Andy ran back to the window and looked out again: + +"Yassam--yassam! De major try ter kill me--he's er regular maniacker--gone +wild----" + +"What about?" + +The black hands went to his throat: + +"Bout my windpipes, 'pears like!" + +"What did he do?" + +"Got me in de _gills_!" + +"Why?" + +"Dunno," was the whispered answer as he peered out the window. "He asked me +if Mr. Tom been back here in de past fo' weeks----" + +"Asked if Tom had been back here?" + +"Yassam!" + +"What a fool question, when he's had the boy with him every day! He must +have gone crazy." + +"Yassam!" Andy agreed with unction as he turned back into the room and +threw both hands high above his head in wild gestures. "He say we wuz all +in it! Dat what he say--we wuz all in it! _All_ in it!" + +"In what?" + +"Gawd knows!" he cried, as his hands again went to his neck to feel if +anything were broken, "Gawd knows, but he sho wuz gittin' inside er me!" + +Cleo spoke with stern appeal: + +"Well, you're a man; you'll know how to defend yourself next time, won't +you?" + +"Yassam!--yas, m'am!" Andy answered boldly. "Oh, I fit 'im! Don't you think +I didn't fight him! I fit des lak er wild-cat--yassam!" + +The woman's eyes narrowed and her voice purred: + +"You're going to stand by me now?" + +"Dat I is!" was the brave response. + +"You'll do anything for me?" + +"Yassam!" + +"Defend me with your life if the major attacks me to-night?" + +"Dat I will!" + +Cleo leaned close: + +"You'll die for me?" + +"Yassam! yassam--I'll _die_ fer you--I'll die fer ye; of cose I'll _die_ +for ye! B-b-but fer Gawd's sake what ye want wid er dead nigger?" + +Andy leaped back in terror as Norton's tall figure suddenly appeared in the +door, his rumpled iron-gray hair gleaming in the shadows, his eyes flashing +with an unnatural light. He quickly crossed the room and lifted his index +finger toward Cleo: + +"Just a word with you----" + +The woman's hands met nervously, and she glanced at Andy: + +"Very well, but I want a witness. Andy can stay." + +Norton merely glanced at the negro: + +"Get out!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Stay where you are!" Cleo commanded. + +"Y--yassam"--Andy stammered, halting. + +"Get out!" Norton growled. + +Andy jumped into the doorway at a single bound: + +"Done out, sah!" + +The major lifted his hand and the negro stopped: + +"Tell Minerva I want to see her." + +Andy hastened toward the hall, the whites of his eyes shining: + +"Yassah, but she ain't in de kitchen, sah!" + +"Find her and bring her here!" Norton thundered. His words rang like the +sudden peal of a gun at close quarters: + +Andy jumped: + +"Yassah, yassah, I fetch her! I fetch her!" As he flew through the door he +repeated humbly: + +"I fetch her, right away, sah--right away, sah!" + +Cleo watched his cowardly desertion with lips curled in scorn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A SURPRISE + + +For a while Norton stood with folded arms gazing at Cleo, his eyes +smouldering fires of wonder and loathing. The woman was trembling beneath +his fierce scrutiny, but he evidently had not noted the fact. His mind was +busy with a bigger problem of character and the possible depths to which a +human being might fall and still retain the human form. He was wondering +how a man of his birth and breeding, the heir to centuries of culture and +refinement, of high thinking and noble aspirations, could ever have sunk to +the level of this yellow animal--this bundle of rags and coarse flesh! It +was incredible! His loathing for her was surpassed by one thing only--his +hatred of himself. + +He was free in this moment as never before. In the fearlessness of death +soul and body stood erect and gazed calmly out on time and eternity. + +There was one thing about the woman he couldn't understand. That she was +without moral scruple--that she was absolutely unmoral in her fundamental +being--he could easily believe. In fact, he could believe nothing else. +That she would not hesitate to defy every law of God or man to gain her +end, he never doubted for a moment. But that a creature of her cunning and +trained intelligence could deliberately destroy herself by such an act of +mad revenge was unreasonable. He began dimly to suspect that her plans had +gone awry. How completely she had been crushed by her own trap he could not +yet guess. + +She was struggling frantically now to regain her composure but his sullen +silence and his piercing eyes were telling on her nerves. She was on the +verge of screaming in his face when he said in low, intense tones: + +"You did get even with me--didn't you?" + +"Yes!" + +"I didn't think _you_ quite capable of this!" + +His words were easier to bear than silence. She felt an instant relief and +pulled herself together with a touch of bravado: + +"And now that you see I am, what are you going to do about it?" + +"That's my secret," was the quiet reply. "There's just one thing that +puzzles me!" + +"Indeed!" + +"How you could willfully and deliberately do this beastly thing?" + +"For one reason only, I threw them together and brought about their love +affair----" + +"Revenge--yes," Norton interrupted, "but the boy--you don't hate him--you +can't. You've always loved him as if he were your own----" + +"Well, what of it?" + +"I'm wondering----" + +"What?" + +His voice was low, vibrant but quiet: + +"Why, if your mother instincts have always been so powerful and you've +loved my boy with such devotion"--the tones quickened to sudden +menace--"why you were so willing to give up your own child that day twenty +years ago?" + +He held her gaze until her own fell: + +"I--I--don't understand you," she said falteringly. + +He seized her with violence and drew her squarely before him: + +"Look at me!" he cried fiercely. "Look me in the face!" He paused until she +slowly lifted her eyes to his and finally glared at him with hate. "I want +to see your soul now if you've got one. There's just one chance and I'm +clutching at that as a drowning man a straw." + +"Well?" she asked defiantly. + +Norton's words were hurled at her, each one a solid shot: + +"Would you have given up that child without a struggle--if she had really +been your own?" + +"Why--what--do you--mean?" Cleo asked, her eyes shifting. + +"You know what I mean. If Helen is really your child, why did you give her +up so easily that day?" + +"Why?" she repeated blankly. + +"Answer my question!" + +With an effort she recovered her composure: + +"You know why! I was mad. I was a miserable fool. I did it because you +asked it. I did it to please you, and I've cursed myself for it ever +since." + +Norton's grip slowly relaxed, and he turned thoughtfully away. The woman's +hand went instinctively to the bruises he had left on her arms as she +stepped back nearer the door and watched him furtively. + +"It's possible, yes!" he cried turning again to face her suddenly. "And yet +if you are human how could you dare defy the laws of man and God to bring +about this marriage?" + +"It's not a question of marriage yet," she sneered. "You've simply got to +acknowledge her, that's all. That's why I brought her here. That's why I've +helped their love affair. You're in my power now. You've got to tell Tom +that Helen is my daughter, and yours--his half sister! Now that they're in +love with one another you've got to do it!" + +Norton drew back in amazement: + +"You mean to tell me that you don't know that they are married?" + +With a cry of surprise and terror, the woman leaped to his side, her voice +a whisper: + +"Married? Who says they are married?" + +"Tom has just said so." + +"But they are not married!" she cried hysterically. "They can't marry!" + +Norton fixed her with a keen look: + +"They _are_ married!" + +The woman wrung her hands nervously: + +"But you can separate them if you tell them the truth. That's all you've +got to do. Tell them now--tell them at once!" + +Never losing the gaze with which he was piercing her soul Norton said in +slow menacing tones: + +"There's another way!" + +He turned from her suddenly and walked toward the desk. She followed a +step, trembling. + +"Another way"--she repeated. + +Norton turned: + +"An old way brave men have always known--I'll take it if I must!" + +Chilled with fear Cleo glanced in a panic about the room and spoke feebly: + +"You--you--don't mean----" + +Minerva and Andy entered cautiously as Norton answered: + +"No matter what I mean, it's enough for you to know that I'm free--free +from you--I breathe clean air at last!" + +Minerva shot Cleo a look: + +"Praise God!" + +Cleo extended a hand in pleading: + +"Major----" + +"That will do now!" he said sternly. "Go!" + +Cleo turned hurriedly to the door leading toward the stairs. + +"Not that way!" Norton called sharply. "Tom has no further need of your +advice. Go to the servants' quarters and stay there. I am the master of +this house to-night!" + +Cleo slowly crossed the room and left through the door leading to the +kitchen, watching Norton with terror. Minerva broke into a loud laugh and +Andy took refuge behind her ample form. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +VIA DOLOROSA + + +Minerva was still laughing at the collapse of her enemy and Andy sheltering +himself behind her when a sharp call cut her laughter short: + +"Minerva!" + +"Yassah"--she answered soberly. + +"You have been a faithful servant to me," Norton began, "you have never +lied----" + +"An' I ain't gwine ter begin now, sah." + +He searched her black face keenly: + +"Did Tom slip back here to see Miss Helen while I was away on this last +trip?" + +Minerva looked at Andy, fumbled with her apron, started to speak, hesitated +and finally admitted feebly: + +"Yassah!" + +Andy's eyes fairly bulged: + +"De Lordy, major, I didn't know dat, sah!" + +Norton glanced at him: + +"Shut up!" + +"You ain't gwine ter be hard on 'em, major?" Minerva pleaded. + +He ignored her interruption and went on evenly: + +"How many times did he come?" + +"Twice, sah." + +"He sho come in de night time den!" Andy broke in. "I nebber seed 'im +once!" + +Norton bent close: + +"How long did he stay?" + +Minerva fidgeted, hesitated again and finally said: + +"Once he stay about er hour----" + +"And the other time?" + +She looked in vain for a way of escape, the perspiration standing in beads +on her shining black face: + +"He stay all night, sah." + +A moment of stillness followed. Norton's eyes closed, and his face became a +white mask. He breathed deeply and then spoke quietly: + +"You--you knew they were married?" + +"Yassah!" was the quick reply. "I seed 'em married. Miss Helen axed me, +sah." + +Andy lifted his hands in solemn surprise and walled his eyes at Minerva: + +"Well, 'fore Gawd!" + +Another moment of silence and Andy's mouth was still open with wonder when +a call like the crack of a revolver suddenly rang through the room: + +"Andy!" + +The negro dropped to his knees and lifted his hands: + +"Don't do nuttin' ter me, sah! 'Fore de Lawd, major, I 'clare I nebber +knowed it! Dey fool me, sah--I'd a tole you sho!" + +Norton frowned: + +"Shut your mouth and get up." + +"Yassah!" Andy cried. "Hit's shet an' I'se up!" + +He scrambled to his feet and watched his master. + +"You and Minerva go down that back stairway into the basement, fasten the +windows and lock the doors." + +Andy's eyes were two white moons in the shadows as he cried through +chattering teeth: + +"G--g--odder mighty--what--what's de matter, major?" + +"Do as I tell you, quick!" + +Andy dodged and leaped toward the door: + +"R--right away, sah!" + +"Pay no attention to anything Mr. Tom may say to you----" + +"Nasah," Andy gasped. "I pay no 'tension ter nobody, sah!" + +"When you've fastened everything below, do the same on this floor and come +back here--I want you." + +"Y-y-yas--sah! R-r-r-right a-way, sah!" + +Andy backed out, beckoning frantically to Minerva. She ignored him and +watched Norton as he turned toward a window and looked vaguely out. As Andy +continued his frantic calls she slipped to the doorway and whispered: + +"G'long! I be dar in er minute. You po' fool, you can't talk nohow. You're +skeered er de major. I'm gwine do my duty now, I'm gwine ter tell him +sumfin' quick----" + +Norton wheeled on her with sudden fury: + +"Do as I tell you! Do as I tell you!" + +Minerva dodged at each explosion, backing away. She paused and extended her +hand pleadingly: + +"Can't I put in des one little word, sah?" + +"Not another word!" he thundered, advancing on her--"Go!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Go! I tell you!" + +Dodging again, she hurried below to join Andy. Norton turned back into the +room and stood staring at something that gleamed with sinister brightness +from the top of the little writing desk. An electric lamp with crimson +shade seemed to focus every ray of light on the shining steel and a devil +in the shadows pointed a single finger and laughed: + +"It's ready--just where you laid it!" + +He took a step toward the desk, stopped and gripped the back of the settee, +steadied himself, and glared at the thing with fascination. He walked +unsteadily to the chair in front of the desk and stared again. His hand +moved to grasp the revolver and hesitated. And then, the last thought of +pity strangled, he gripped the handle, lifted it with quick familiar touch, +grasped the top clasp, loosed the barrel, threw the cylinder open and +examined the shells, dropped them into his hand and saw that there were no +blanks. One by one he slowly replaced them, snapped the cylinder in place +and put the weapon in his pocket. + +He glanced about the room furtively, walked to each of the tall French +windows, closed the shutters and carefully drew the heavy draperies. He +turned the switch of the electric lights, extinguishing all in the room +save the small red one burning on the desk. He would need that in a moment. + +He walked softly to the foot of the stairs and called: + +"Tom!" + +Waiting and receiving no answer he called again: + +"Tom! Tom!" + +A door opened above and the boy answered: + +"Well?" + +"Just a word, my son," the gentle voice called. + +"I've nothing to say, sir! We're packing our trunks to leave at once." + +"Yes, yes, I understand," the father answered tenderly. "You're going, of +course, and it can't be helped--but just a minute, my son; we must say +good-by in a decent way, you know--and--I've something to show you before +you go"--the voice broke--"you--won't try to leave without seeing me?" + +There was a short silence and the answer came in friendly tones: + +"I'll see you. I'll be down in a few minutes." + +The father murmured: + +"Thank God!" + +He hurried back to the library, unlocked a tiny drawer in the desk, drew +out a plain envelope from which he took the piece of paper on which was +scrawled the last message from the boy's mother. His hand trembled as he +read and slowly placed it in a small pigeon-hole. + +He took his pen and began to write rapidly on a pad of legal cap paper. + +While he was still busy with his writing, in obedience to his orders, Andy +and Minerva returned. They stopped at the doorway and peeped in cautiously +before entering. Astonished and terrified to find the room so dimly lighted +they held a whispered conference in the hall: + +"Better not go in dar, chile!" Andy warned. + +"Ah, come on, you fool!" Minerva insisted. "He ain't gwine ter hurt us!" + +"I tell ye he's wild--he's gone crazy, sho's yer born! I kin feel dem +fingers playin' on my windpipe now!" + +"What's he doin' dar at dat desk?" Minerva asked. + +"He's writin' good-by ter dis world, I'm tellin' ye, an' hit's time me an' +you wuz makin' tracks!" + +"Ah, come on!" the woman urged. + +Andy hung back and shook his head: + +"Nasah--I done bin in dar an' got my dose!" + +"You slip up behin' him an' see what he's writin'," Minerva suggested. + +"Na, you slip up!" + +"You're de littlest an' makes less fuss," she argued. + +"Yes, but you'se de biggest an' you las' de longest in er scrimmage----" + +"Ah, go on!" she commanded, getting behind Andy and suddenly pushing him +into the room. + +He rushed back into her arms, but she pushed him firmly on: + +"G'long, I tell ye, fool, an' see what he's doin'. I back ye up." + +Andy balked and she pressed him another step: + +"G'long!" + +He motioned her to come closer, whispering: + +"Ef yer gwine ter stan' by me, for de Lawd's sake stan' by me--don't stan' +by de do'!" + +Seeing that retreat was cut off and he was in for it, the negro picked his +way cautiously on tip-toe until he leaned over the chair and tried to read +what his master was writing. + +Norton looked up suddenly: + +"Andy!" + +He jumped in terror: + +"I--I--didn't see nuttin', major! Nasah! I nebber seed a thing, sah!" + +Norton calmly lifted his head and looked into the black face that had been +his companion so many years: + +"I want you to see it!" + +"Oh!" Andy cried with surprised relief, "you wants me to see hit"--he +glanced at Minerva and motioned her to come nearer. "Well, dat's different, +sah. Yer know I wouldn't er tried ter steal er glimpse of it ef I'd knowed +ye wuz gwine ter show it ter me. I allers is er gemman, sah!" + +Norton handed him the paper: + +"I taught you to read and write, Andy. You can do me a little service +to-night--read that!" + +"Yassah--yassah," he answered, pompously, adjusting his coat and vest. He +held the paper up before him, struck it lightly with the back of his hand +and cleared his throat: + +"Me an' you has bin writin' fer de newspapers now 'bout fifteen +years--yassah"--he paused and hurriedly read the document. "Dis yo' will, +sah? An' de Lawd er mussy, 'tain't more'n ten lines. An' dey hain't nary +one er dem whereases an' haremditaments aforesaids, like de lawyers puts in +dem in de Cote House--hit's des plain writin"--he paused again--"ye gives +de house, an' ten thousand dollars ter Miss Helen an' all yer got ter de +Columnerzation Society ter move de niggers ter er place er dey own!"--he +paused again and walled his eyes at Minerva. "What gwine come er Mr. Tom?" + +Norton's head sank: + +"He'll be rich without this! Sign your name here as a witness," he said +shortly, picking up the pen. + +Andy took the pen, rolled up his sleeve carefully, bent over the desk, +paused and scratched his head: + +"Don't yer think, major, dat's er terrible pile er money ter fling loose +'mongst er lot er niggers?" + +Norton's eyes were dreaming again and Andy went on insinuatingly: "Now, +wouldn't hit be better, sah, des ter pick out one good _reliable_ nigger +dat yer knows pussonally--an' move him?" + +Norton looked up impatiently: + +"Sign it!" + +"Yassah! Cose, sah, you knows bes', sah, but 'pears ter me lak er powerful +waste er good money des flingin' it broadcast!" + +Norton lifted his finger warningly and Andy hastened to sign his name with +a flourish of the pen. He looked at it admiringly: + +"Dar now! Dey sho know dat's me! I practise on dat quereque two whole +mont's----" + +Norton folded the will, placed it in an envelope, addressed it and lifted +his drawn face: + +"Tell the Clerk of the Court that I executed this will to-night and placed +it in this desk"--his voice became inaudible a moment and went on--"Ask him +to call for it to-morrow and record it for me." + +Minerva, who had been listening and watching with the keenest interest, +pressed forward and asked in a whisper: + +"Yassah, but whar's you gwine ter be? You sho ain't gwine ter die +ter-night?" + +Norton quietly recovered himself and replied angrily: + +"Do I look as if I were dying?" + +"Nasah!--But ain't dey no way dat I kin help ye, major? De young folks is +gwine ter leave, sah----" + +"They are not going until I'm ready!" was the grim answer. + +"Nasah, but dey's gwine," the black woman replied tenderly. "Ye can't stop +'em long. Lemme plead fur 'em, sah! You wuz young an' wild once, +major"--the silvery gray head sank low and the white lips quivered--"you +take all yer money frum Mister Tom--what he care fer dat now wid love +singin' in his heart? Young folks is young folks----" + +Norton lifted his head and stared as in a dream. + +"Won't ye hear me, sah? Can't I go upstairs an' speak de good word ter +Mister Tom now an' tell him hit's all right?" + +A sudden idea flashed into Norton's mind. + +The ruse would be the surest and quickest way to get Tom into the room +alone. + +"Yes, yes," he answered, glancing at her. "You can say that to him now----" + +Minerva laughed: + +"I kin go right up dar to his room now an' tell 'im dat you're er waitin' +here wid yer arms open an' yer heart full er love an' fergiveness?" + +"Yes, go at once"--he paused--"and keep Miss Helen there a few minutes. I +want to see him first--you understand----" + +"Yassah! yassah!" Minerva cried, hastening to the door followed by Andy. "I +understands, I understands"--she turned on Andy. "Ye hear dat, you fool +nigger? Ain't I done tole you dat hit would all come out right ef I could +des say de good word? Gloree! We gwine ter hab dat weddin' all over agin! +You des wait till yer seen dat cake I gwine ter bake----" + +With a quick turn she was about to pass through the door when Andy caught +her sleeve: + +"Miss Minerva!" + +"Yas, honey!" + +"Miss Minerva," he repeated, nervously glancing at Norton, "fer Gawd's +sake don't you leave me now! You'se de only restful pusson in dis house!" + +With a triumphant laugh Minerva whispered: + +"I'll be right back in a minute, honey!" + +Norton had watched with apparent carelessness until Minerva had gone. He +sprang quickly to his feet, crossed the room and spoke in an excited +whisper: + +"Andy!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Go down to that front gate and stay there. Turn back anybody who tries to +come in. Don't you allow a soul to enter the lawn." + +"I'll do de best I kin, sah," he replied hastening toward the door. + +Norton took an angry step toward him: + +"You do exactly as I tell you, sir!" + +Andy jumped and replied quickly: + +"Yassah, but ef dem serenaders come back here you know dey ain't gwine pay +no 'tensun ter no nigger talkin' to 'em--dat's what dey er celebratin' +erbout----" + +Norton frowned and was silent a moment: + +"Say that I ask them not to come in." + +"I'll tell 'em, sah, but I spec I'll hatter climb er tree 'fore I explains +hit to 'em--but I tell 'em, sah--yassah." + +As Andy slowly backed out, Norton said sternly: + +"I'll call you when I want you. Stay until I do!" + +"Yassah," Andy breathed softly as he disappeared trembling and wondering. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE DREGS IN THE CUP + + +Norton walked quickly to the window, drew back the draperies, opened the +casement and looked out to see if Andy were eavesdropping. He watched the +lazy figure cross the lawn, glancing back at the house. The full moon, at +its zenith, was shining in a quiet glory, uncanny in its dazzling +brilliance. + +He stood drinking in for the last time the perfumed sweetness and languor +of the Southern night. His senses seemed supernaturally acute. He could +distinctly note the odors of the different flowers that were in bloom on +the lawn. A gentle breeze was blowing from the path across the old rose +garden. The faint, sweet odor of the little white carnations his mother had +planted along the walks stole over his aching soul and he was a child again +watching her delicate hands plant them, while grumbling slaves protested at +the soiling of her fingers. She was looking up with a smile saying: + +"I love to plant them. I feel that they are my children then, and I'm +making the world sweet and beautiful through them!" + +Had he made the world sweeter and more beautiful? + +He asked himself the question sternly. + +"God knows I've tried for twenty years--and it has come to this!" + +The breeze softened, the odor of the pinks grew; fainter and the strange +penetrating smell of the hedge of tuberoses swept in from the other +direction with the chill of Death in its breath. + +His heart rose in rebellion. It was too horrible, such an end of life! He +was scarcely forty-nine years old. Never had the blood pulsed through his +veins with stronger throb and never had his vision of life seemed clearer +and stronger than to-day when he had faced those thousands of cheering men +and hinted for the first time his greater plans for uplifting the Nation's +life. + +The sense of utter loneliness overwhelmed his soul. The nearest being in +the universe whose presence he could feel was the dead wife and mother. + +His eye rested on the portrait tenderly: + +"We're coming, dearest, to-night!" + +For the first time his spirit faced the mystery of eternity at close range. +He had long speculated in theories of immortality and brooded over the +problem of the world that lies but a moment beyond the senses. + +He had clasped hands with Death now and stood face to face, calm and +unafraid. His mind quickened with the thought of the strange world into +which he would be ushered within an hour. Would he know and understand? Or +would the waves of oblivion roll over the prostrate body without a sign? It +couldn't be! The hunger of immortality was too keen for doubt. He would see +and know! The cry rose triumphant within. He refused to perish with the +moth and worm. The baser parts of his being might die--the nobler must +live. There could be no other meaning to this sublimely cruel and mad +decision to kill the body rather than see it dishonored. His eye caught +the twinkle of a star through the branches of a tree-top. His feet would +find the pathway among those shining worlds! There could be no other +meaning to the big thing that throbbed and ached within and refused to be +content to whelp and stable here as a beast of the field. Pride, Honor, +Aspiration, Prayer, meant this or nothing! + +"I've made blunders here," he cried, "but I'm searching for the light and +I'll find the face of God!" + +The distant shouts of cheering hosts still celebrating in the Square +brought his mind to earth with a sickening shock. He closed the windows, +and drew the curtains. His hands clutched the velvet hangings in a moment +of physical weakness and he steadied himself before turning to call Tom. + +Recovering his composure in a measure, his hand touched the revolver in his +pocket, the tall figure instinctively straightened and he walked rapidly +toward the hall. He had barely passed the centre of the room when the boy's +voice distinctly echoed from the head of the stairs: + +"I'll be back in a minute, dear!" + +He heard the door of Helen's room close softly and the firm step descend +the stairs. The library door opened and closed quickly, and Tom stood +before him, his proud young head lifted and his shoulders squared. The +dignity and reserve of conscious manhood shone in every line of his +stalwart body and spoke in every movement of face and form. + +"Well, sir," he said quietly. "It's done now and it can't be helped, you +know." + +Norton was stunned by the sudden appearance of the dear familiar form. His +eyes were dim with unshed tears. It was too hideous, this awful thing he +had to do! He stared at him piteously and with an effort walked to his +side, speaking in faltering tones that choked between the words: + +"Yes, it's done now--and it can't be helped"--he strangled and couldn't go +on--"I--I--have realized that, my son--but I--I have an old letter from +your mother--that I wanted to show you before you go--you'll find it on the +desk there." + +He pointed to the desk on which burned the only light in the room. + +The boy hesitated, pained by the signs of deep anguish in his father's +face, turned and rapidly crossed the room. + +The moment his back was turned, Norton swiftly and silently locked the +door, and with studied carelessness followed. + +The boy began to search for the letter: + +"I don't see it, sir." + +The father, watching him with feverish eyes, started at his voice, raised +his hand to his forehead and walked quickly to his side: + +"Yes, I--I--forgot--I put it away!" + +He dropped limply into the chair before the desk, fumbled among the papers +and drew the letter from the pigeon-hole in which he had placed it. + +He held it in his hand, shaking now like a leaf, and read again the scrawl +that he had blurred with tears and kisses. He placed his hand on the top of +the desk, rose with difficulty and looked for Tom. The boy had moved +quietly toward the table. The act was painfully significant of their new +relations. The sense of alienation cut the broken man to the quick. He +could scarcely see as he felt his way to the boy's side and extended the +open sheet of paper without a word. + +Tom took the letter, turned his back on his father and read it in silence. + +"How queer her handwriting!" he said at length. + +Norton spoke in strained muffled tones: + +"Yes--she--she was dying when she scrawled that. The mists of the other +world were gathering about her. I don't think she could see the paper"--the +voice broke, he fought for self-control and then went on--"but every tiny +slip of her pencil, each little weak hesitating mark etched itself in fire +on my heart"--the voice stopped and then went on--"you can read them?" + +"Yes." + +The father's long trembling finger traced slowly each word: + +"'Remember that I love you and have forgiven----'" + +"Forgiven what?" Tom interrupted. + +Norton turned deadly pale, recovered himself and began in a low voice: + +"You see, boy, I grew up under the old régime. Like a lot of other fellows +with whom I ran, I drank, gambled and played the devil--you know what that +meant in those days----" + +"No, I don't," the boy interrupted. "That's just what I don't know. I +belong to a new generation. And you've made a sort of exception of me even +among the men of to-day. You taught me to keep away from women. I learned +the lesson. I formed clean habits, and so I don't know just what you mean +by that. Tell me plainly." + +"It's hard to say it to you, my boy!" the older man faltered. + +"I want to know it." + +"I--I mean that twenty years ago it was more common than now for youngsters +to get mixed up with girls of negroid blood----" + +The boy shrank back: + +"You!--great God!" + +"Yes, she came into my life at last--a sensuous young animal with wide, +bold eyes that knew everything and was not afraid. That sentence means the +shame from which I've guarded you with such infinite care----" + +He paused and pointed again to the letter, tracing its words: + +"'Rear our boy free from the curse!'--you--you--see why I have been so +desperately in earnest?"--Norton bent close with pleading eagerness: "And +that next sentence, there, you can read it? 'I had rather a thousand times +that he should die than this--My brooding spirit will watch and guard'"--he +paused and repeated--"'that he should die'--you--you--see that?" + +The boy looked at his father's trembling hand and into his glittering eyes +with a start: + +"Yes, yes, but, of course, that was only a moment's despair--no mother +could mean such a thing." + +Norton's eyes fell, he moved uneasily, tried to speak again and was silent. +When he began his words were scarcely audible: + +"We must part now in tenderness, my boy, as father and son--we--we--must do +that you know. You--you forgive me for striking you to-night?" + +Tom turned away, struggled and finally answered: + +"No." + +The father followed eagerly: + +"Tell me that it's all right!" + +The boy's hand nervously fumbled at the cloth on the table: + +"I--I--am glad I didn't do something worse!" + +"Say that you forgive me! Why is it so hard?" + +Tom turned his back: + +"I don't know, Dad, I try, but--I--just can't!" + +The father's hand touched the boy's arm timidly: + +"You can never understand, my son, how my whole life has been bound up in +you! For years I've lived, worked, and dreamed and planned for you alone. +In your young manhood I've seen all I once hoped to be and have never been. +In your love I've found the healing of a broken heart. Many a night I've +gone out there alone in that old cemetery, knelt beside your mother's grave +and prayed her spirit to guide me that I might at least lead your little +feet aright----" + +The boy moved slightly and the father's hand slipped limply from his, he +staggered back with a cry of despair, and fell prostrate on the lounge: + +"I can endure anything on this earth but your hate, my boy! I can't endure +that--I can't--even for a moment!" + +His form shook with incontrollable grief as he lay with his face buried in +his outstretched arms. + +The boy struggled with conflicting pride and love, looked at the scrawled, +tear-stained letter he still held in his hand and then at the bowed figure, +hesitated a moment, and rushed to his father's side, knelt and slipped his +arm around the trembling figure: + +"It's all right, Dad! I'll not remember--a single tear from your eyes blots +it all out!" + +The father's hand felt blindly for the boy's and grasped it desperately: + +"You won't remember a single harsh word that I've said?" + +"No--no--it's all right," was the soothing answer, as he returned the +pressure. + +Norton looked at him long and tenderly: + +"How you remind me of _her_ to-night! The deep blue of your eyes, the +trembling of your lips when moved, your little tricks of speech, the tear +that quivers on your lash and never falls and the soul that's mirrored +there"--he paused and stroked the boy's head--"and her hair, the beaten +gold of honeycomb!" + +His head sank and he was silent. + +The boy again pressed his hand tenderly and rose, drawing his father to his +feet: + +"I'm sorry to have hurt you, Dad. I'm sorry that we have to go--good-by!" + +He turned and slowly moved toward the door. Norton slipped his right hand +quickly to the revolver, hesitated, his fingers relaxed and the deadly +thing dropped back into his pocket as he sank to his seat with a groan: + +"Wait! Wait, Tom!" + +The boy stopped. + +"I--I've got to tell it to you now!" he went on hoarsely. "I--I tried to +save you this horror--but I couldn't--the way was too hard and cruel." + +Tom took a step and looked up in surprise: + +"The way--what way?" + +"I couldn't do it," the father cried. "I just couldn't--and so I have to +tell you." + +The boy spoke with sharp eagerness: + +"Tell me what?" + +"Now that I know you are married in all that word means and I have failed +to save you from it--I must give you the proofs that you demand. I must +prove to you that Helen _is_ a negress----" + +A sudden terror crept into the young eyes: + +"You--you have the proofs?" + +"Yes!" the father nodded, placing his hand on his throat and fighting for +breath. He took a step toward the boy, and whispered: + +"Cleo--is--her mother!" + +Tom flinched as if struck a blow. The red blood rushed to his head and he +blanched with a death-like pallor: + +"And you have been afraid of Cleo?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +The father's head was slowly lowered and his hands moved in the slightest +gesture of dumb confession. + +A half-articulate, maniac cry and the boy grasped him with trembling hands, +screaming in his face: + +"God in Heaven, let me keep my reason for just a +moment!--So--you--are--Helen's----" + +The bowed head sank lower. + +"Father!" + +Tom reeled, and fell into a chair with a groan: + +"Lord have mercy on my lost soul!" + +Norton solemnly lifted his eyes: + +"God's full vengeance has fallen at last! You have married your own----" + +The boy sprang to his feet covering his face: + +"Don't! Don't! Helen doesn't know?" + +"No." + +"She mustn't!" he shivered, looking wildly at his father. "But why, +why--oh, dear God, why didn't you kill me before I knew!" + +He sank back into the chair, his arms outstretched across the table, his +face hidden in voiceless shame. + +The father slowly approached the prostrate figure, bent low and tenderly +placed his cheek against the blonde head, soothing it with trembling touch. +For a long while he remained thus, with no sound breaking the stillness +save the sobs that came from the limp form. + +And then Norton said brokenly: + +"I tried, my boy, to end it for us both without your knowing just now when +your back was turned, but I couldn't. It seemed too cowardly and cruel! I +just couldn't"--he paused, slowly drew the revolver from his pocket and +laid it on the table. + +The boy felt the dull weight of the steel strike the velvet cover and knew +what had been done without lifting his head. + +"Now you know," the father added, "what we both must do." + +Tom rose staring at the thing on the dark red cloth, and lifted his eyes to +his father's. + +"Yes, and hurry! Helen may come at any moment." + +He had barely spoken when the knob of the door turned. A quick knock was +heard at the same instant and Helen's voice rang through the hall: + +"Tom! Tom!" + +Norton grasped the pistol, thrust it under the table-cover and pressed the +boy toward the door: + +"Quick! Open it, at once!" + +Tom stared in a stupor, unable to move until his father shook his arm: + +"Quick--open it--let her in a moment--it's best." + +He opened the door and Helen sprang in breathlessly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE MILLS OF GOD + + +Norton had dropped into a seat with apparent carelessness, while Tom stood +immovable, his face a mask. + +The girl looked quickly from one to the other, her breath coming in quick +gasps. + +She turned to Tom: + +"Why did you lock the door--what does it mean?" + +Norton hastened to answer, his tones reassuringly simple: + +"Why, only that we wished to be alone for a few moments----" + +"Yes, we understand each other now," Tom added. + +Helen's eyes flashed cautiously from one to the other: + +"I heard a strange noise"--she turned to the boy--"and, oh, Tom, darling, I +was so frightened! I thought I heard a struggle and then everything became +so still. I was wild--I couldn't wait any longer!" + +"Why, it was really nothing," Tom answered her bravely smiling. "We--we did +have a little scene, and lost our temper for a moment, but you can see for +yourself it's all right now. We've thrashed the whole thing out and have +come to a perfect understanding!" + +His words were convincing but not his manner. He hadn't dared to look her +in the face. His eyes were on the rug and his foot moved nervously. + +"You are not deceiving me?" she asked trembling. + +The boy appealed to his father: + +"Haven't we come to a perfect understanding, Dad?" + +Norton rose: + +"Perfect, my son. It's all right, now, Helen." + +"Just wait for me five minutes, dear," Tom pleaded. + +"Can't I hear what you have to say?" + +"We prefer to be alone," the father said gravely. + +Again her eyes flashed from one to the other and rested on Tom. She rushed +to him and laid her hand appealingly on his arm: + +"Oh, Tom, dear, am I not your wife?" the boy's head drooped--"must you have +a secret from me now?" + +"Just a few minutes," Norton pleaded, "that's a good girl!" + +"Only a few minutes, Helen," Tom urged. + +"Please let me stay. Why were you both so pale when I came in?" + +Father and son glanced at each other over her head. Norton hesitated and +said: + +"You see we are perfectly calm now. All bitterness is gone from our hearts. +We are father and son again." + +"Why do you look so queerly at me? Why do you look so strangely at each +other?" + +"It's only your imagination, dear," Tom said. + +"No, there's something wrong," Helen declared desperately. "I feel it in +the air of this room--in the strange silence between you. For God's sake +tell me what it means! Surely, I have the right to know"--she turned +suddenly to Norton--"You don't hate me now, do you, major?" + +The somber brown eyes rested on her in a moment of intense silence and he +slowly said: + +"I have never hated you, my child!" + +"Then what is it?" she cried in anguish, turning again to Tom. "Tell me +what I can do to help you! I'll obey you, dearest, even if it's to lay my +life down. Don't send me away. Don't keep this secret from me. I feel its +chill in my heart. My place is by your side--tell me how I can help you!" + +Tom looked at her intently: + +"You say that you will obey me?" + +"Yes--you are my lord and master!" + +He seized her hand and led her to the door + +"Then wait for me just five minutes." + +She lifted her head pleadingly: + +"You will let me come to you then?" + +"Yes." + +"You won't lock the door again?" + +"Not now." + +While Tom stood immovable, with a lingering look of tenderness she turned +and passed quickly from the room. + +He closed the door softly, steadied himself before loosing the knob and +turned to his father in a burst of sudden rebellion: + +"Oh, Dad! It can't be true! It can't be true! I can't believe it. Did you +look at her closely again?" + +Norton drew himself wearily to his feet and spoke with despairing +certainty: + +"Yes, yes, as I've looked at her a hundred times with growing wonder." + +"She's not like you----" + +"No more than you, my boy, and yet you're bone of my bone and flesh of my +flesh--it can't be helped----" + +He paused and pointed to the revolver: + +"Give it to me!" + +The boy started to lift the cloth and the father caught his arm: + +"But first--before you do," he faltered. "I want you to tell me now with +your own lips that you forgive me for what I must do--and then I think, +perhaps, I can--say it!" + +Their eyes met in a long, tender, searching gaze: + +"I forgive you," he softly murmured. + +"Now give it to me!" the father firmly said, stepping back and lifting his +form erect. + +The boy felt for the table, fumbled at the cloth, caught the weapon and +slowly lifted it toward his father's extended hand. He opened his eyes, +caught the expression of agony in the drawn face, the fingers relaxed and +the pistol fell to the floor. He threw himself blindly on his father, his +arms about his neck: + +"Oh, Dad, it's too hard! Wait--wait--just a moment!" + +The father held him close for a long while. His voice was very low when he +spoke at last: + +"There's no appeal, my boy! The sin of your father is full grown and has +brought forth death. Yet I was not all to blame. We are caught to-night in +the grip of the sins of centuries. I tried to give my life to the people to +save the children of the future. My shame showed me the way as few men +could have seen it, and I have set in motion forces that can never be +stopped. Others will complete the work that I have begun. But our time has +come----" + +"Yes, yes, I understand!" + +The father's arms pressed the son in a last long embrace: + +"What an end to all my hopes! Oh, my boy, heart of my heart!" + +Tom's hand slowly slipped down and caught his father's: + +"Good-by, Dad!" + +Norton held the clasp with lingering tenderness as the boy slowly drew +away, measured four steps and calmly folded his arms, his head erect, his +broad young shoulders squared and thrown far back. + +Cleo, who had crept into the hall, stood behind the curtains of the inner +door watching the scene with blanched face. + +The father walked quickly to the revolver, picked it up, turned and lifted +it above his head. + +With a smothered cry Cleo sprang into the room--but she was too late. +Norton had quickly dropped the pistol to the level of the eye and fired. + +A tiny red spot flamed on the white skin of the boy's forehead, the +straight figure swayed, and pitched forward face down on the rug. + +The woman staggered back, cowering in the shadows. + +The father knelt beside the quivering form, clasped his left hand in Tom's, +placed the revolver to his temple and fired. The silver-gray head sank +slowly against the breast of the boy as a piercing scream from Helen's lips +rang through the silent hall. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +SIN FULL GROWN + + +The sensitive soul of the girl had seen the tragedy before she rushed into +the library. At the first shot she sprang to her feet, her heart in her +throat. The report had sounded queerly through the closed doors and she was +not sure. She had entered the hall, holding her breath, when the second +shot rang out its message of death. + +She was not the woman who faints in an emergency. She paused just a moment +in the door, saw the ghastly heap on the floor and rushed to the spot. + +She tore Tom's collar open and placed her ear over his heart: + +"O God! He's alive--he's alive!" + +She turned and saw Cleo leaning against the table with blanched face and +chattering teeth. + +"Call Andy and Aunt Minerva--and go for the doctor--his heart's +beating--quick--the doctor--he's alive--we may save him!" + +She knelt again on the floor, took Tom's head in her lap, wiped the blood +from the clean, white forehead, pressed her lips to his and sobbed: + +"Come back, my own--it's I--Helen, your little wife--I'm calling you--you +can't die--you're too young and life's too dear. We've only begun to live, +my sweetheart! You shall not die!" + +The tears were raining on his pale face and her cries had become little +wordless prayers when Andy and Minerva entered the room. + +She nodded her head toward Norton's motionless body: + +"Lift him on the lounge!" + +They moved him tenderly: + +"See if his heart's still beating," she commanded. + +Andy reverently lowered his dusky face against the white bosom of his +master. When he lifted it the tears had blinded his eyes: + +"Nobum," he said slowly, "he's done dead!" + +The tick of the little French clock on the mantel beneath the mother's +portrait rang with painful clearness. + +Helen raised her hand to Minerva: + +"Open the windows and let the smoke out. I'll hold him in my arms until the +doctor comes." + +"Yassum----" + +Minerva drew the heavy curtains back from the tall windows, opened the +casements and the perfumed air of the beautiful Southern night swept into +the room. + +A cannon boomed its final cry of victory from the Square and a rocket, +bursting above the tree-tops, flashed a ray of red light on the white face +of the dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +CONFESSION + + +When Dr. Williams entered the room Helen was still holding Tom's head in +her lap. + +He had stirred once with a low groan. + +"The major is dead, but Tom's alive, doctor!" she cried through her tears. +"He's going to live, too--I feel it--I know it--tell me that it's so!" + +The lips trembled pitifully with the last words. + +The doctor felt the pulse and was silent. + +"It's all right? He's going to live--isn't he?" she asked pathetically. + +"I can't tell yet, my child," was the calm answer. + +He examined the wound and ran his hand over the blonde hair. His fingers +stopped suddenly and he felt the head carefully. He bent low, parted the +hair and found a damp blood mark three inches above the line of the +forehead. + +"See!" he cried, "the ball came out here. His head was thrown far back, the +bullet struck the inner skull bone at an angle and glanced." + +"What does it mean?" she asked breathlessly. + +The doctor smiled: + +"That the brain is untouched. He is only stunned and in a swoon. He'll be +well in two weeks." + +Helen lifted her eyes and sobbed: + +"O God!" + +She tried to bend and kiss Tom's lips, her body swayed and she fell +backward in a dead faint. + +Andy and Minerva carried her to her room, left Cleo to minister to her and +returned to help the doctor. + +He examined Norton's body to make sure that life was extinct and placed the +body on an improvised bed on the floor until he should regain his senses. + +In half an hour Tom looked into the doctor's face: + +"Why, it's Doctor Williams?" + +"Yes." + +"What--what's happened?" + +"It's only a scratch for you, my boy. You'll be well in a few days----" + +"Well in a few days"--he repeated blankly. "I can't get well! I've got to +die"--his head dropped and he caught his breath. + +The doctor waited for him to recover himself to ask the question that was +on his lips. He had gotten as yet no explanation of the tragedy save Cleo's +statement that the major had shot Tom and killed himself. He had guessed +that the ugly secret in Norton's life was in some way responsible. + +"Why must you die, my boy?" he asked kindly. + +Tom opened his eyes in a wild stare: + +"Helen's my wife--we married secretly without my father knowing it. He has +just told me that Cleo is her mother and I have married my own----" + +His voice broke and his head sank. + +The doctor seized the boy's hand and spoke eagerly: + +"It's a lie, boy! It's a lie! Take my word for it----" + +Tom shook his head. + +"I'll stake my life on it that it's a lie"--the old man repeated--"and I'll +prove it--I'll prove it from Cleo's lips!" + +"You--you--can do it!" the boy said hopelessly, though his eyes flashed +with a new light. + +"Keep still until I return!" the doctor cried, "and I'll bring Cleo with +me." + +He placed the revolver in his pocket and hastily left the room, the boy's +eyes following him with feverish excitement. + +He called Cleo into the hall and closed Helen's door. + +The old man seized her hand with a cruel grip: + +"Do you dare tell me that this girl is your daughter?" + +She trembled and faltered: + +"Yes!" + +"You're a liar!" he hissed. "You may have fooled Norton for twenty years, +but you can't fool me. I've seen too much of this sort of thing. I'll stake +my immortal soul on it that no girl with Helen's pure white skin and +scarlet cheeks, clean-cut features and deep blue eyes can have in her body +a drop of negro blood!" + +"She's mine all the same, and you know when she was born," the woman +persisted. + +He could feel her body trembling, looked at her curiously and said: + +"Come down stairs with me a minute." + +Cleo drew back: + +"I don't want to go in that room again!" + +"You've got to come!" + +He seized her roughly and drew her down the stairs into the library. + +She gripped the door, panting in terror. He loosed her hands and pushed +her inside before the lounge on which the body of Norton lay, the cold +wide-open eyes staring straight into her face. + +She looked a moment in abject horror, shivered and covered her eyes: + +"Oh, my God, let me go!" + +The doctor tore her hands from her face and confronted her. His snow-white +beard and hair, his tense figure and flaming anger seemed to the trembling +woman the image of an avenging fate as he solemnly cried: + +"Here, in the presence of Death, with the all-seeing eye of God as your +witness, and the life of the boy you once held in your arms hanging on your +words, I ask if that girl is your daughter?" + +The greenish eyes wavered, but the answer came clear at last: + +"No----" + +"I knew it!" the doctor cried. "Now the whole truth!" + +The color mounted Tom's cheeks as he listened. + +"My own baby died," she began falteringly, "I was wild with grief and +hunted for another. I found Helen in Norfolk at the house of an old woman +whom I knew, and she gave her to me----" + +"Or you stole her--no matter"--the doctor interrupted--"Go on." + +Helen had slipped down stairs, crept into the room unobserved and stood +listening. + +"Who was the child's mother?" the doctor demanded. + +Cleo was gasping for breath: + +"The daughter of an old fool who had disowned her because she ran away and +married a poor white boy--the husband died--the father never forgave her. +When the baby was born the mother died, too, and I got the child from the +old nurse--she's pure white--there's not a stain of any kind on her birth!" + +With a cry of joy Helen knelt and drew Tom into her arms: + +"Oh, darling, did you hear it--oh, my sweetheart, did you hear it?" + +The boy's head sank on her breast and he breathed softly: + +"Thank God!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HEALING + + +The years brought their healing to wounded hearts. Tom Norton refused to +leave his old home. He came of a breed of men who had never known how to +quit. He faced the world and with grim determination took up the work for +the Republic which his father had begun. + +With tireless voice his paper pleads for the purity of the race. Its +circulation steadily increases and its influence deepens and widens. + +The patter of a baby's feet again echoes through the wide hall behind the +white fluted columns. The young father and mother have taught his little +hands to place flowers on the two green mounds beneath the oak in the +cemetery. He is not old enough yet to understand, and so the last time they +were there he opened his eyes wide at his mother's tears and lisped: + +"Are 'oo hurt, mama?" + +"No, my dear, I'm happy now." + +"Why do 'oo cry?" + +"For a great man I knew a little while, loved and lost, dearest--your +grandfather for whom we named you." + +Little Dan's eyes grew very serious as he looked again at the flower-strewn +graves and wondered what it all meant. + +But the thing which marks the Norton home with peculiar distinction is that +since the night of his father's death, Tom has never allowed a negro to +cross the threshold or enter its gates. + +THE END + + * * * * * + +NOVELS OF SOUTHERN LIFE + +By THOMAS DIXON, JR. + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS_: A Story of the White Man's Burden, 1865-1900. With +illustrations by C. D. Williams. + +A tale of the South about the dramatic events of Destruction. +Reconstruction and Upbuilding. The work is able and eloquent and the +verifiable events of history are followed closely in the development of a +story full of struggle. + + +_THE CLANSMAN._ With illustrations by Arthur I. Keller. + +While not connected with it in any way, this is a companion volume to the +author's "epoch-making" story _The Leopard's Spots_. It is a novel with a +great deal to it, and which very properly is going to interest many +thousands of readers. * * * It is, first of all, a forceful, dramatic, +absorbing love story, with a sequence of events so surprising that one is +prepared for the fact that much of it is founded on actual happenings; but +Mr. Dixon has, as before, a deeper purpose--he has aimed to show that the +original formers of the Ku Klux Klan were modern knights errant taking the +only means at hand to right intolerable wrongs. + + +_THE TRAITOR._ A Story of the Fall of the Invisible Empire. Illustrations +by C. D. Williams. + +The third and last book in this remarkable trilogy of novels relating to +Southern Reconstruction. It is a thrilling story of love, adventure, +treason, and the United States Secret Service dealing with the decline and +fall of the Ku Klux Klan. + + +_COMRADES._ Illustrations by C. D. Williams. + +A novel dealing with the establishment of a Socialistic Colony upon a +deserted island off the coast of California. The way of disillusionment is +the course over which Mr. Dixon conducts the reader. + + +_THE ONE WOMAN._ A Story of Modern Utopia. + +A love story and character study of three strong men and two fascinating +women. In swift, unified, and dramatic action, we see Socialism a deadly +force, in the hour of the eclipse of Faith, destroying the home life and +weakening the fiber of Anglo Saxon manhood. + + * * * * * + +STORIES OF WESTERN LIFE + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE_, By Zane Grey. Illustrated by Douglas Duer. + +In this picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago, we are +permitted to see the unscrupulous methods employed by the invisible hand of +the Mormon Church to break the will of those refusing to conform to its +rule. + + +_FRIAR TUCK_, By Robert Alexander Wason. Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood. + +Happy Hawkins tells us, in his humorous way, how Friar Tuck lived among the +Cowboys, how he adjusted their quarrels and love affairs and how he fought +with them and for them when occasion required. + + +_THE SKY PILOT_, By Ralph Connor. Illustrated by Louis Rhead. + +There is no novel, dealing with the rough existence of cowboys, so charming +in the telling, abounding as it does with the freshest and the truest +pathos. + + +_THE EMIGRANT TRAIL_, By Geraldine Bonner. Colored frontispiece by John +Rae. + +The book relates the adventures of a party on its overland pilgrimage, and +the birth and growth of the absorbing love of two strong men for a charming +heroine. + + +_THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER_, By A. M. Chisholm. Illustrated by Frank Tenney +Johnson. + +This is a strong, virile novel with the lumber industry for its central +theme and a love story full of interest as a sort of subplot. + + +_A PRAIRIE COURTSHIP_, By Harold Bindloss. + +A story of Canadian prairies in which the hero is stirred, through the +influence of his love for a woman, to settle down to the heroic business of +pioneer farming. + + +_JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS_, By Harriet T. Comstock. Illustrated by John +Cassel. + +A story of the deep woods that shows the power of love at work among its +primitive dwellers. It is a tensely moving study of the human heart and its +aspirations that unfolds itself through thrilling situations and dramatic +developments. + + * * * * * + +JOHN FOX, JR'S. + +STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list + + +_THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE._ Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +[Illustration] + +The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree +that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine +lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he +finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the +_footprints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and the +trail of these girlish footprints led the young engineer a madder chase +than "the trail of the lonesome pine." + + +_THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME._ Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come." It is +a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often +springs the flower of civilization. + +"Chad" the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he came--he +had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, seeking shelter +with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and mothered this waif about +whom there was such a mystery--a charming waif, by the way, who could play +the banjo better that anyone else in the mountains. + + +_A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND._ Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland the lair of +moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the heroine +a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two impetuous young +Southerners' fall under the spell of "The Blight's" charms and she learns +what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the +mountaineers. + +Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some of +Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives. + + * * * * * + +MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_LAVENDER AND OLD LACE._ + +[Illustration] + +A charming story of a quaint corner of New England where bygone romance +finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the +young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the prettiest, +sweetest and quaintest of old fashioned love stories, * * * a rare book, +exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy, of tenderness, +of delightful humor and spontaniety. + + +_A SPINNER IN THE SUN._ + +Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story in which +poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a clever and +entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she always displays a +quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of pathos which give a touch +of active realism to all her writings. In "A Spinner in the Sun" she tells +an old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and +whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the +heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance. + + +_THE MASTER'S VIOLIN,_ + +A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso is +the reverent possessor of a genuine "Cremona." He consents to take for his +pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for technique, but +not the soul of an artist. The youth has led the happy, careless life of a +modern, well-to-do young American and he cannot, with his meagre past, +express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life and all its happy +phases as can the master who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl +comes into his life--a beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had +taken into her heart and home, and through his passionate love for her, he +learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul awakes. + +Founded on a fact that all artists realize. + + * * * * * + +LOUIS TRACY'S + +CAPTIVATING AND EXHILARATING ROMANCES + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_CYNTHIA'S CHAUFFEUR._ Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. + +A pretty American girl in London is touring in a car with a chauffeur whose +identity puzzles her. An amusing mystery. + + +_THE STOWAWAY GIRL._ Illustrated by Nesbitt Benson. + +A shipwreck, a lovely girl stowaway, a rascally captain, a fascinating +officer, and thrilling adventures in South Seas. + + +_THE CAPTAIN OF THE KANSAS._ + +Love and the salt sea, a helpless ship whirled into the hands of cannibals, +desperate fighting and a tender romance. + + +_THE MESSAGE._ Illustrated by Joseph Cummings Chase. + +A bit of parchment found in the figurehead of an old vessel tells of a +buried treasure. A thrilling mystery develops. + + +_THE PILLAR OF LIGHT._ + +The pillar thus designated was a lighthouse, and the author tells with +exciting detail the terrible dilemma of its cut off inhabitants. + + +_THE WHEEL O'FORTUNE._ With illustrations by James Montgomery Flagg. + +The story deals with the finding of a papyrus containing the particulars of +some of the treasures of the Queen of Sheba. + + +_A SON OF THE IMMORTALS._ Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. + +A young American is proclaimed king of a little Balkan Kingdom, and a +pretty Parisian art student is the power behind the throne. + +_THE WINGS OF THE MORNING._ + +A sort of Robinson Crusoe _redivivus_ with modern settings and a very +pretty love story added. The hero and heroine, are the only survivors of a +wreck, and have many thrilling adventures on their desert island. + + * * * * * + +THE NOVELS OF + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + +_THE RULES OF THE GAME._ Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller. + +The romance of the son of "The Riverman." The young college hero goes into +the lumber camp, is antagonized by "graft" and comes into the romance of +his life. + + +_ARIZONA NIGHTS._ Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth. + +A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life of the +ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece. + + +_THE BLAZED TRAIL._ With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty. + +A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young man who blazed +his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan pines. + + +_THE CLAIM JUMPERS._ A Romance. + +The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the Black Hills has +a hard time of it, but "wins out" in more ways than one. + + +_CONJUROR'S HOUSE._ Illustrated Theatrical Edition. + +Dramatized under the title of "The Call of the North." + +Conjuror's House is a Hudson Bay trading post where the head factor is the +absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and won a bride on this +forbidden land. + + +_THE MAGIC FOREST._ A Modern Fairy Tale. Illustrated. + +The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and their life is +treated could only belong to one who is in love with the forest and open +air. Based on fact. + + +_THE RIVERMAN._ Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood. + +The story of a man's fight against a river and of a struggle between +honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and shrewdness on the +other. + + +_THE SILENT PLACES._ Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin. + +The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine devotion, and +masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian and the instinct of the +Indian, are all finely drawn in this story. + + +_THE WESTERNERS._ + +A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the best American +novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no other book has done in +recent years. + + +_THE MYSTERY._ In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams. + +With illustrations by Will Crawford. + +The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout ship "Laughing +Lass" in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. In the solution, +there is a story of the most exciting voyage that man ever undertook. + + * * * * * + +TITLES SELECTED FROM + +GROSSET & DUNLAP'S LIST + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS._ By Meredith Nicholson. Illustrated by C. +Coles Phillips and Reginald Birch. + +Seven suitors vie with each other for the love of a beautiful girl, and she +subjects them to a test that is full of mystery, magic and sheer amusement. + + +_THE MAGNET._ By Henry C. Rowland. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood. + +The story of a remarkable courtship involving three pretty girls on a +yacht, a poet-lover in pursuit, and a mix-up in the names of the girls. + + +_THE TURN OF THE ROAD._ By Eugenia Brooks Frothingham. + +A beautiful young opera singer chooses professional success instead of +love, but comes to a place in life where the call of the heart is stronger +than worldly success. + + +_SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY._ By Margaret Morse. Illustrated by Harold M. Brett. + +A young girl whose affections have been blighted is presented with a Scotch +Collie to divert her mind, and the roving adventures of her pet lead the +young mistress into another romance. + + +_SHEILA VEDDER._ By Amelia E. Barr. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher. + +A very beautiful romance of the Shetland Islands, with a handsome, strong +willed hero and a lovely girl of Gaelic blood as heroine. A sequel to "Jan +Vedder's Wife." + + +_JOHN WARD, PREACHER._ By Margaret Deland. + +The first big success of this much loved American novelist. It is a +powerful portrayal of a young clergyman's attempt to win his beautiful wife +to his own narrow creed. + + +_THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT._ By Robert W. Service. Illustrated by Maynard +Dixon. + +One of the best stories of "Vagabondia" ever written, and one of the most +accurate and picturesque of the stampede of gold seekers to the Yukon. The +love story embedded in the narrative is strikingly original. + + +_THE SECOND WIFE._ By Thompson Buchanan. Illustrated by W. W. Fawcett. +Harrison Fisher wrapper printed in four colors and gold. + +An intensely interesting story of a marital complication in a wealthy New +York family involving the happiness of a beautiful young girl. + + +_TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY._ By Grace Miller White. Illustrated by Howard +Chandler Christy. + +An amazingly vivid picture of low class life in a New York college town, +with a heroine beautiful and noble, who makes a great sacrifice for love. + + +_FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING._ By Grace Miller White. + +Frontispiece and wrapper in colors by Penthyn Stanlaws. + +Another story of "the storm country." Two beautiful children are kidnapped +from a wealthy home and appear many years after showing the effects of a +deep, malicious scheme behind their disappearance. + + +_THE LIGHTED MATCH._ By Charles Neville Buck. Illustrated by R. F. +Schabelitz. + +A lovely princess travels incognito through the States and falls in love +with an American man. There are ties that bind her to someone in her own +home, and the great plot revolves round her efforts to work her way out. + + +_MAUD BAXTER._ By C. C. Hotchkiss. Illustrated by Will Grefe. + +A romance both daring and delightful, involving an American girl and a +young man who had been impressed into English service during the +Revolution. + + +_THE HIGHWAYMAN._ By Guy Rawlence. Illustrated by Will Grefe. + +A French beauty of mysterious antecedents wins the love of an Englishman of +title. Developments of a startling character and a clever untangling of +affairs hold the reader's interest. + + +_THE PURPLE STOCKINGS._ By Edward Salisbury Field. Illustrated in colors; +marginal illustrations. + +A young New York business man, his pretty sweetheart, his sentimental +stenographer, and his fashionable sister are all mixed up in a +misunderstanding that surpasses anything in the way of comedy in years. A +story with a laugh on every page. + + +_Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_ + +GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26th ST., NEW YORK + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SINS OF THE FATHER*** + + +******* This file should be named 36666-8.txt or 36666-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/6/6/6/36666 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Sins of the Father</p> +<p> A Romance of the South</p> +<p>Author: Thomas Dixon</p> +<p>Release Date: July 8, 2011 [eBook #36666]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SINS OF THE FATHER***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci,<br /> + and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by<br /> + Internet Archive<br /> + (<a href="http://www.archive.org">http://www.archive.org</a>)</h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/sinsoffatherroma00dixo"> + http://www.archive.org/details/sinsoffatherroma00dixo</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 392px;"> +<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="392" height="650" alt="title page" title="" /> + +</div> + +<h1>THE SINS OF THE FATHER</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 425px;"> +<img src="images/i001.jpg" width="425" height="650" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"She blushed scarlet, took the rosebud from her bosom and +pinned it on his coat."<br /> + +[Page 246]</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SINS OF THE FATHER</h2> + +<h3><i>A ROMANCE OF THE SOUTH</i></h3> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>THOMAS DIXON</h2> + +<h4> +AUTHOR OF<br /> +THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS, THE CLANSMAN,<br /> +COMRADES, THE ROOT OF EVIL, ETC.<br /> +</h4> + +<h4>ILLUSTRATED BY</h4> + +<h3>JOHN CASSEL</h3> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"> +GROSSET & DUNLAP<br /> +PUBLISHERS :: :: NEW YORK<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1912, by</span><br /> +THOMAS DIXON<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<i>All rights reserved, including that of translation into<br /> +foreign languages, including the Scandinavian.</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Published March, 1913.</i><br /> +<br /> +Printed in the United States of America.<br /> +</p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<p class="center"> +TO<br /> +THE MEMORY OF<br /> +<br /> +RANDOLPH SHOTWELL<br /> +<br /> +OF NORTH CAROLINA<br /> +<br /> +SOLDIER, EDITOR, CLANSMAN<br /> +PATRIOT<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>TO THE READER</h2> + + +<p><i>I wish it understood that I have not used in this novel the private life +of Captain Randolph Shotwell, to whom this book is dedicated. I have drawn +the character of my central figure from the authentic personal history of +Major Daniel Norton himself, a distinguished citizen of the far South, with +whom I was intimately acquainted for many years.</i></p> + +<p class="sig"> +THOMAS DIXON.<br /> +<br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +MARCH 8, 1912<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<p> +BOOK I—SIN<br /> +<br /> +CHAPTER <span class="tocnum">PAGE</span><br /> +<br /> +I. <span class="smcap">The Woman in Yellow</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_3'>3</a></span><br /> +II. <span class="smcap">Cleo Enters</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_26'>26</a></span><br /> +III. <span class="smcap">A Beast Awakes</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_39'>39</a></span><br /> +IV. <span class="smcap">The Arrest</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_46'>46</a></span><br /> +V. <span class="smcap">The Rescue</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_58'>58</a></span><br /> +VI. <span class="smcap">A Traitor's Ruse</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_71'>71</a></span><br /> +VII. <span class="smcap">The Irony of Fate</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_78'>78</a></span><br /> +VIII. <span class="smcap">A New Weapon</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_85'>85</a></span><br /> +IX. <span class="smcap">The Words that Cost</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_93'>93</a></span><br /> +X. <span class="smcap">Man to Man</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_98'>98</a></span><br /> +XI. <span class="smcap">The Unbidden Guest</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_109'>109</a></span><br /> +XII. <span class="smcap">The Judgment Bar</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_116'>116</a></span><br /> +XIII. <span class="smcap">An Old Story</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_130'>130</a></span><br /> +XIV. <span class="smcap">The Fight for Life</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_139'>139</a></span><br /> +XV. <span class="smcap">Cleo's Silence</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></span><br /> +XVI. <span class="smcap">The Larger Vision</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_145'>145</a></span><br /> +XVII. <span class="smcap">The Opal Gates</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_158'>158</a></span><br /> +XVIII. <span class="smcap">Questions</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_163'>163</a></span><br /> +XIX. <span class="smcap">Cleo's Cry</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_171'>171</a></span><br /> +XX. <span class="smcap">The Blow Falls</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_174'>174</a></span><br /> +XXI. <span class="smcap">The Call of the Blood</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_182'>182</a></span><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +BOOK II—ATONEMENT<br /> +<br /> +I. <span class="smcap">The New Life Purpose</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_195'>195</a></span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span>II. <span class="smcap">A Modern Scalawag</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_199'>199</a></span><br /> +III. <span class="smcap">His House in Order</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_211'>211</a></span><br /> +IV. <span class="smcap">The Man of the Hour</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_217'>217</a></span><br /> +V. <span class="smcap">A Woman Scorned</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_222'>222</a></span><br /> +VI. <span class="smcap">An Old Comedy</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_235'>235</a></span><br /> +VII. <span class="smcap">Trapped</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_247'>247</a></span><br /> +VIII. <span class="smcap">Behind the Bars</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_259'>259</a></span><br /> +IX. <span class="smcap">Andy's Dilemma</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_262'>262</a></span><br /> +X. <span class="smcap">The Best Laid Plans</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_278'>278</a></span><br /> +XI. <span class="smcap">A Reconnoitre</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_284'>284</a></span><br /> +XII. <span class="smcap">The First Whisper</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_294'>294</a></span><br /> +XIII. <span class="smcap">Andy's Proposal</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_299'>299</a></span><br /> +XIV. <span class="smcap">The Folly of Pity</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_307'>307</a></span><br /> +XV. <span class="smcap">A Discovery</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_319'>319</a></span><br /> +XVI. <span class="smcap">The Challenge</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_329'>329</a></span><br /> +XVII. <span class="smcap">A Skirmish</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_335'>335</a></span><br /> +XVIII. <span class="smcap">Love Laughs</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_340'>340</a></span><br /> +XIX. "<span class="smcap">Fight It Out!</span>" <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_346'>346</a></span><br /> +XX. <span class="smcap">Andy Fights</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_355'>355</a></span><br /> +XXI. <span class="smcap">The Second Blow</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_365'>365</a></span><br /> +XXII. <span class="smcap">The Test of Love</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_372'>372</a></span><br /> +XXIII. <span class="smcap">The Parting</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_388'>388</a></span><br /> +XXIV. <span class="smcap">Father and Son</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_399'>399</a></span><br /> +XXV. <span class="smcap">The One Chance</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_414'>414</a></span><br /> +XXVI. <span class="smcap">Between Two Fires</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_420'>420</a></span><br /> +XXVII. <span class="smcap">A Surprise</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_423'>423</a></span><br /> +XXVIII. <span class="smcap">Via Dolorosa</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_428'>428</a></span><br /> +XXIX. <span class="smcap">The Dregs in the Cup</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_438'>438</a></span><br /> +XXX. <span class="smcap">The Mills of God</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_449'>449</a></span><br /> +XXXI. <span class="smcap">Sin Full Grown</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_454'>454</a></span><br /> +XXXII. <span class="smcap">Confession</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_456'>456</a></span><br /> +XXXIII. <span class="smcap">Healing</span> <span class="tocnum"><a href='#Page_461'>461</a></span><br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SINS OF THE FATHER</h2> + +<h3><i>Book One—Sin</i></h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE WOMAN IN YELLOW</h3> + + +<p>The young editor of <i>The Daily Eagle and Phoenix</i> straightened his tall +figure from the pile of papers that smothered his desk, glanced at his +foreman who stood waiting, and spoke in the quiet drawl he always used when +excited:</p> + +<p>"Just a moment—'til I read this over——"</p> + +<p>The foreman nodded.</p> + +<p>He scanned the scrawled pencil manuscript twice and handed it up without +changing a letter:</p> + +<p>"Set the title in heavy black-faced caps—<i>black</i>—the blackest you've +got."</p> + +<p>He read the title over again musingly, his strong mouth closing with a snap +at its finish:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">THE BLACK LEAGUE AND THE KU KLUX KLAN<br /></span> +<span class="i0">DOWN WITH ALL SECRET SOCIETIES<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The foreman took the manuscript with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"You've certainly got 'em guessing, major——"</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Everybody. We've all been thinking until these editorials began that you +were a leader of the Klan."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>A smile played about the corners of the deep-set brown eyes as he swung +carelessly back to his desk and waved the printer to his task with a +friendly sweep of his long arm:</p> + +<p>"Let 'em think again!"</p> + +<p>A shout in the Court House Square across the narrow street caused him to +lift his head with a frown:</p> + +<p>"Salesday—of course—the first Monday—doomsday for the conquered +South—God, the horror of it all!"</p> + +<p>He laid his pencil down, walked to the window and looked out on the crowd +of slouching loafers as they gathered around the auctioneer's block. The +negroes outnumbered the whites two to one.</p> + +<p>A greasy, loud-mouthed negro, as black as ink, was the auctioneer.</p> + +<p>"Well, gemmen an' feller citizens," he began pompously, "de fust piece er +property I got ter sell hain't no property 'tall—hit's dese po' folks fum +de County Po' House. Fetch 'em up agin de wall so de bidders can see +'em——"</p> + +<p>He paused and a black court attendant led out and placed in line against +the weatherbeaten walls fifty or sixty inmates of the County Poor +House—all of them white men and women. Most of them were over seventy +years old, and one with the quickest step and brightest eye, a little man +of eighty-four with snow-white hair and beard, was the son of a hero of the +American Revolution. The women were bareheaded and the blazing Southern sun +of August beat down piteously on their pinched faces.</p> + +<p>The young editor's fists slowly clinched and his breath came in a deep +quivering draught. He watched as in a trance. He had seen four years' +service in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> bloodiest war in history—seen thousands swept into +eternity from a single battlefield without a tear. He had witnessed the +sufferings of the wounded and dying until it became the routine of a day's +work. Yet no event of all that fierce and terrible struggle had stirred his +soul as the scene he was now witnessing—not even the tragic end of his +father, the editor of the <i>Daily Eagle</i>—who had been burned to death in +the building when Sherman's army swept the land with fire and sword. The +younger man had never referred to this except in a brief, hopeful editorial +in the newly christened <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i>, which he literally built on +the ashes of the old paper. He had no unkind word for General Sherman or +his army. It was war, and a soldier knew what that meant. He would have +done the same thing under similar conditions.</p> + +<p>Now he was brushing a tear from his cheek. A reporter at work in the +adjoining room watched him curiously. He had never before thought him +capable of such an emotion. A brilliant and powerful editor, he had made +his paper the one authoritative organ of the white race. In the midst of +riot, revolution and counter revolution his voice had the clear ring of a +bugle call to battle. There was never a note of hesitation, of uncertainty +or of compromise. In the fierce white heat of an unconquered spirit, he had +fused the souls of his people as one. At this moment he was the one man +hated and feared most by the negroid government in power, the one man most +admired and trusted by the white race.</p> + +<p>And he was young—very young—yet he had lived a life so packed with tragic +events no one ever guessed his real age, twenty-four. People took him to be +more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> than thirty and the few threads of gray about his temples, added to +the impression of age and dignity. He was not handsome in the conventional +sense. His figure was too tall, his cheek bones too high, the nostrils too +large and his eyebrows too heavy. His great height, six feet three, +invariably made him appear gaunt and serious. Though he had served the +entire four years in the Confederate army, entering a private in the ranks +at eighteen, emerging a major in command of a shattered regiment at +twenty-two, his figure did not convey the impression of military training. +He walked easily, with the long, loose stride of the Southener, his +shoulders slightly stooped from the habit of incessant reading.</p> + +<p>He was lifting his broad shoulders now in an ominous way as he folded his +clenched fists behind his back and listened to the negro auctioneer.</p> + +<p>"Come now, gemmens," he went on; "what's de lowes' offer ye gwine ter start +me fer dese folks? 'Member, now, de lowes' bid gets 'em, not de highes'! +'Fore de war de black man wuz put on de block an' sole ter de <i>highes'</i> +bidder! Times is changed——"</p> + +<p>"Yas, Lawd!" shouted a negro woman.</p> + +<p>"Times is changed, I tells ye!—now I gwine ter sell dese po' white folks +ter de lowes' bidder. Whosomever'll take de Po' House and bode 'em fer de +least money gits de whole bunch. An' you has de right ter make 'em all work +de Po' farm. Dey kin work, too, an' don' ye fergit it. Dese here ones I +fotch out here ter show ye is all soun' in wind and limb. De bedridden ones +ain't here. Dey ain't but six er dem. What's de lowes' bid now, gemmens, +yer gwine ter gimme ter bode 'em by de month? Look 'em all over, gemmens, I +warrants<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> 'em ter be sound in wind an' limb. Sound in wind an' limb."</p> + +<p>The auctioneer's sonorous voice lingered on this phrase and repeated it +again and again.</p> + +<p>The watcher at the window turned away in disgust, walked back to his desk, +sat down, fidgeted in his seat, rose and returned to the window in time to +hear the cry:</p> + +<p>"An' sold to Mister Abum Russ fer fo' dollars a month!"</p> + +<p>Could it be possible that he heard aright? Abe Russ the keeper to the +poor!—a drunkard, wife beater, and midnight prowler. His father before +him, "Devil Tom Russ," had been a notorious character, yet he had at least +one redeeming quality that saved him from contempt—a keen sense of humor. +He had made his living on a ten-acre red hill farm and never used a horse +or an ox. He hitched himself to the plow and made Abe seize the handles. +This strange team worked the fields. No matter how hard the day's task the +elder Russ never quite lost his humorous view of life. When the boy, tired +and thirsty, would stop and go to the spring for water, a favorite trick of +his was to place a piece of paper or a chunk of wood in the furrow a few +yards ahead. When the boy returned and they approached this object, the old +man would stop, lift his head and snort, back and fill, frisk and caper, +plunge and kick, and finally break and run, tearing over the fields like a +maniac, dragging the plow after him with the breathless boy clinging to the +handles. He would then quietly unhitch himself and thrash Abe within an +inch of his life for being so careless as to allow a horse to run away with +him.</p> + +<p>But Abe grew up without a trace of his father's sense<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> of humor, picked out +the strongest girl he could find for a wife and hitched her to the plow! +And he permitted no pranks to enliven the tedium of work except the +amusement he allowed himself of beating her at mealtimes after she had +cooked his food.</p> + +<p>He had now turned politician, joined the Loyal Black League and was the +successful bidder for Keeper of the Poor. It was incredible!</p> + +<p>The watcher was roused from his painful reverie by a reporter's voice:</p> + +<p>"I think there's a man waiting in the hall to see you, sir."</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>The reporter smiled:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bob Peeler."</p> + +<p>"What on earth can that old scoundrel want with me? All right—show him +in."</p> + +<p>The editor was busy writing when Mr. Peeler entered the room furtively. He +was coarse, heavy and fifty years old. His red hair hung in tangled locks +below his ears and a bloated double chin lapped his collar. His legs were +slightly bowed from his favorite mode of travel on horseback astride a huge +stallion trapped with tin and brass bespangled saddle. His supposed +business was farming and the raising of blooded horses. As a matter of +fact, the farm was in the hands of tenants and gambling was his real work.</p> + +<p>Of late he had been displaying a hankering for negro politics. A few weeks +before he had created a sensation by applying to the clerk of the court for +a license to marry his mulatto housekeeper. It was common report that this +woman was the mother of a beautiful octoroon daughter with hair exactly the +color of old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> Peeler's. Few people had seen her. She had been away at +school since her tenth year.</p> + +<p>The young editor suddenly wheeled in his chair and spoke with quick +emphasis:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Peeler, I believe?"</p> + +<p>The visitor's face lighted with a maudlin attempt at politeness:</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; yes, sir!—and I'm shore glad to meet you, Major Norton!"</p> + +<p>He came forward briskly, extending his fat mottled hand.</p> + +<p>Norton quietly ignored the offer by placing a chair beside his desk:</p> + +<p>"Have a seat, Mr. Peeler."</p> + +<p>The heavy figure flopped into the chair:</p> + +<p>"I want to ask your advice, major, about a little secret matter"—he +glanced toward the door leading into the reporters' room.</p> + +<p>The editor rose, closed the door and resumed his seat:</p> + +<p>"Well, sir; how can I serve you?"</p> + +<p>The visitor fumbled in his coat pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of +paper which he fingered gingerly:</p> + +<p>"I've been readin' your editorials agin' secret societies, major, and I +like 'em—that's why I made up my mind to put my trust in you——"</p> + +<p>"Why, I thought you were a member of the Loyal Black League, Mr. Peeler?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir—it's a mistake, sir," was the smooth lying answer. "I hain't got +nothin' to do with no secret society. I hate 'em all—just run your eye +over that, major."</p> + +<p>He extended the crumpled piece of paper on which was scrawled in boyish +writing:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We hear you want to marry a nigger. Our advice is to leave +this country for the more congenial climate of Africa.</p> + +<p> +"By order of the Grand Cyclops, <span class="smcap">ku klux klan</span>."<br /> +</p></div> + +<p>The young editor studied the scrawl in surprise:</p> + +<p>"A silly prank of schoolboys!" he said at length.</p> + +<p>"You think that's all?" Peeler asked dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. The Ku Klux Klan have more important tasks on hand just now. No +man in their authority sent that to you. Their orders are sealed in red ink +with a crossbones and skull. I've seen several of them. Pay no attention to +this—it's a fake."</p> + +<p>"I don't think so, major—just wait a minute, I'll show you something worse +than a red-ink crossbones and skull."</p> + +<p>Old Peeler tipped to the door leading into the hallway, opened it, peered +out and waved his fat hand, beckoning someone to enter.</p> + +<p>The voice of a woman was heard outside protesting:</p> + +<p>"No—no—I'll stay here——"</p> + +<p>Peeler caught her by the arm and drew her within:</p> + +<p>"This is Lucy, my housekeeper, major."</p> + +<p>The editor looked in surprise at the slender, graceful figure of the +mulatto. He had pictured her coarse and heavy. He saw instead a face of the +clean-cut Aryan type with scarcely a trace of negroid character. Only the +thick curling hair, shining black eyes and deep yellow skin betrayed the +African mother.</p> + +<p>Peeler's eyes were fixed in a tense stare on a small bundle she carried. +His voice was a queer muffled tremor as he slowly said:</p> + +<p>"Unwrap the thing and show it to him."</p> + +<p>The woman looked at the editor and smiled contemptuously,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> showing two rows +of perfect teeth, as she slowly drew the brown wrapper from a strange +object which she placed on the desk.</p> + +<p>The editor picked the thing up, looked at it and laughed.</p> + +<p>It was a tiny pine coffin about six inches long and two inches wide. A +piece of glass was fitted into the upper half of the lid and beneath the +glass was placed a single tube rose whose peculiar penetrating odor already +filled the room.</p> + +<p>Peeler mopped the perspiration from his brow.</p> + +<p>"Now, what do you think of that?" he asked in an awed whisper.</p> + +<p>In spite of an effort at self-control, Norton broke into a peal of +laughter:</p> + +<p>"It does look serious, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Serious ain't no word for it, sir! It not only looks like death, but I'm +damned if it don't smell like it—smell it!"</p> + +<p>"So it does," the editor agreed, lifting the box and breathing the perfume +of the pale little flower.</p> + +<p>"And that ain't all," Peeler whispered, "look inside of it."</p> + +<p>He opened the lid and drew out a tightly folded scrap of paper on which was +written in pencil the words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"You lying, hypocritical, blaspheming old scoundrel—unless +you leave the country within forty-eight hours, this coffin +will be large enough to hold all we'll leave of you.</p> + +<p class="sig">K. K. K."</p></div> + +<p>The editor frowned and then smiled.</p> + +<p>"All a joke, Peeler," he said reassuringly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Peeler was not convinced. He leaned close and his whiskey-laden breath +seemed to fill the room as his fat finger rested on the word "blaspheming:"</p> + +<p>"I don't like that word, major; it sounds like a preacher had something to +do with the writin' of it. You know I've been a tough customer in my day +and I used to cuss the preachers in this county somethin' frightful. Now, +ye see, if they should be in this Ku Klux Klan—I ain't er skeered er their +hell hereafter, but they sho' might give me a taste in this world of what +they think's comin' to me in the next. I tell you that thing makes the cold +chills run down my back. Now, major, I reckon you're about the +level-headest and the most influential man in the county—the question is, +what shall I do to be saved?"</p> + +<p>Again Norton laughed:</p> + +<p>"Nothing. It's a joke, I tell you——"</p> + +<p>"But the Ku Klux Klan ain't no joke!" persisted Peeler. "More than a +thousand of 'em—some say five thousand—paraded the county two weeks ago. +A hundred of 'em passed my house. I saw their white shrouds glisten in the +moonlight. I said my prayers that night! I says to myself, if it don't do +no good, at least it can't do no harm. I tell you, the Klan's no joke. If +you think so, take a walk through that crowd in the Square to-day and see +how quiet they are. Last court day every nigger that could holler was +makin' a speech yellin' that old Thad Stevens was goin' to hang Andy +Johnson, the President, from the White House porch, take every foot of land +from the rebels and give it to the Loyal Black League. Now, by gum, there's +a strange peace in Israel! I felt it this mornin' as I walked through them +crowds—and comin' back to this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> coffin, major, the question is—what shall +I do to be saved?"</p> + +<p>"Go home and forget about it," was the smiling answer. "The Klan didn't +send that thing to you or write that message."</p> + +<p>"You think not?"</p> + +<p>"I know they didn't. It's a forgery. A trick of some devilish boys."</p> + +<p>Peeler scratched his red head:</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you think so, major. I'm a thousand times obliged to you, sir. +I'll sleep better to-night after this talk."</p> + +<p>"Would you mind leaving this little gift with me, Peeler?" Norton asked, +examining the neat workmanship of the coffin.</p> + +<p>"Certainly—certainly, major, keep it. Keep it and more than welcome! It's +a gift I don't crave, sir. I'll feel better to know you've got it."</p> + +<p>The yellow woman waited beside the door until Peeler had passed out, bowed +her thanks, turned and followed her master at a respectful distance.</p> + +<p>The editor watched them cross the street with a look of loathing, muttering +slowly beneath his breath:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my country, what a problem—what a problem!"</p> + +<p>He turned again to his desk and forgot his burden in the joy of work. He +loved this work. It called for the best that's in the strongest man. It was +a man's work for men. When he struck a blow he saw the dent of his hammer +on the iron, and heard it ring to the limits of the state.</p> + +<p>Dimly aware that some one had entered his room unannounced, he looked up, +sprang to his feet and extended<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> his hand in hearty greeting to a stalwart +farmer who stood smiling into his face:</p> + +<p>"Hello, MacArthur!"</p> + +<p>"Hello, my captain! You know you weren't a major long enough for me to get +used to it—and it sounds too old for you anyhow——"</p> + +<p>"And how's the best sergeant that ever walloped a recruit?"</p> + +<p>"Bully," was the hearty answer.</p> + +<p>The young editor drew his old comrade in arms down into his chair and sat +on the table facing him:</p> + +<p>"And how's the wife and kids, Mac?"</p> + +<p>"Bully," he repeated evenly and then looked up with a puzzled expression.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Bud," he began quietly, "you've got me up a tree. These +editorials in <i>The Eagle and Phoenix</i> cussin' the Klan——"</p> + +<p>"You don't like them?"</p> + +<p>"Not a little wee bit!"</p> + +<p>The editor smiled:</p> + +<p>"You've got Scotch blood in you, Mac—that's what's the matter with +you——"</p> + +<p>"Same to you, sir."</p> + +<p>"But my great-great-grandmother was a Huguenot and the French, you know, +had a saving sense of humor. The Scotch are thick, Mac!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm too thick to know what you mean by lambastin' our only +salvation. The Ku Klux Klan have had just one parade—and there hasn't been +a barn burnt in this county or a white woman scared since, and every nigger +I've met to-day has taken off his hat——"</p> + +<p>"Are you a member of the Klan, Mac?" The question was asked with his face +turned away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>The farmer hesitated, looked up at the ceiling and quietly answered:</p> + +<p>"None of your business—and that's neither here nor there—you know that +every nigger is organized in that secret Black League, grinning and +whispering its signs and passwords—you know that they've already begun to +grip the throats of our women. The Klan's the only way to save this country +from hell—what do you mean by jumpin' on it?"</p> + +<p>"The Black League's a bad thing, Mac, and the Klan's a bad thing——"</p> + +<p>"All right—still you've got to fight the devil with fire——"</p> + +<p>"You don't say so?" the editor said, while a queer smile played around his +serious mouth.</p> + +<p>"Yes, by golly, I do say so," the farmer went on with increasing warmth, +"and what I can't understand is how you're against 'em. You're a leader. +You're a soldier—the bravest that ever led his men into the jaws of +death—I know, for I've been with you—and I just come down here to-day to +ask you the plain question, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"The Klan <i>is</i> a band of lawless night raiders, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you make me tired! What are we to do without 'em, that's the +question?"</p> + +<p>"Scotch! That's the trouble with you"—the young editor answered +carelessly. "Have you a pin?"</p> + +<p>The rugged figure suddenly straightened as though a bolt of lightning had +shot down his spine.</p> + +<p>"What's—what's that?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"I merely asked, have you a pin?" was the even answer,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> as Norton touched +the right lapel of his coat with his right hand.</p> + +<p>The farmer hesitated a moment, and then slowly ran three trembling fingers +of his left hand over the left lapel of his coat, replying:</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not."</p> + +<p>He looked at Norton a moment and turned pale. He had been given and had +returned the signs of the Klan. It might have been an accident. The rugged +face was a study of eager intensity as he put his friend to the test that +would tell. He slowly thrust the fingers of his right hand into the right +pocket of his trousers, the thumb protruding.</p> + +<p>Norton quietly answered in the same way with his left hand.</p> + +<p>The farmer looked into the smiling brown eyes of his commander for a moment +and his own filled with tears. He sprang forward and grasped the +outstretched hand:</p> + +<p>"Dan Norton! I said last night to my God that you couldn't be against us! +And so I came to ask—oh, why—why've you been foolin' with me?"</p> + +<p>The editor tenderly slipped his arm around his old comrade and whispered:</p> + +<p>"The cunning of the fox and the courage of the lion now, Mac! It was easy +for our boys to die in battle while guns were thundering, fifes screaming, +drums beating and the banners waving. You and I have something harder to +do—we've got to live—our watchword, '<i>The cunning of the fox and the +courage of the lion!</i>' I've some dangerous work to do pretty soon. The +little Scalawag Governor is getting ready for us——"</p> + +<p>"I want that job!" MacArthur cried eagerly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll let you know when the time comes."</p> + +<p>The farmer smiled:</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> a Scotchman—ain't I?"</p> + +<p>"And a good one, too!"</p> + +<p>With his hand on the door, the rugged face aflame with patriotic fire, he +slowly repeated:</p> + +<p>"The cunning of the fox and the courage of the lion!—And by the living +God, we'll win this time, boy!"</p> + +<p>Norton heard him laugh aloud as he hurried down the stairs. Gazing again +from his window at the black clouds of negroes floating across the Square, +he slowly muttered:</p> + +<p>"Yes, we'll win this time!—but twenty years from now—I wonder!"</p> + +<p>He took up the little black coffin and smiled at the perfection of its +workmanship:</p> + +<p>"I think I know the young gentleman who made that and he may give me +trouble."</p> + +<p>He thrust the thing into a drawer, seized his hat, strolled down a side +street and slowly passed the cabinet shop of the workman whom he suspected. +It was closed. Evidently the master had business outside. It was barely +possible, of course, that he had gone to the galleries of the Capitol to +hear the long-expected message of the Governor against the Klan. The +galleries had been packed for the past two sessions in anticipation of this +threatened message. The Capital city was only a town of five thousand white +inhabitants and four thousand blacks. Rumors of impending political +movements flew from house to house with the swiftness of village gossip.</p> + +<p>He walked to the Capitol building by a quiet street. As he passed through +the echoing corridor the rotund<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> figure of Schlitz, the Carpetbagger, +leader of the House of Representatives, emerged from the Governor's office.</p> + +<p>The red face flushed a purple hue as his eye rested on his arch-enemy of +the <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i>. He tried to smile and nodded to Norton. His smile +was answered by a cold stare and a quickened step.</p> + +<p>Schlitz had been a teamster's scullion in the Union Army. He was not even +an army cook, but a servant of servants. He was now the master of the +Legislature of a great Southern state and controlled its black, ignorant +members with a snap of his bloated fingers. There was but one man Norton +loathed with greater intensity and that was the shrewd little Scalawag +Governor, the native traitor who had betrayed his people to win office. A +conference of these two cronies was always an ill omen for the state.</p> + +<p>He hurried up the winding stairs, pushed his way into a corner of the +crowded galleries from which he could see every face and searched in vain +for his young workman.</p> + +<p>He stood for a moment, looked down on the floor of the House and watched a +Black Parliament at work making laws to govern the children of the men who +had created the Republic—watched them through fetid smoke, the vapors of +stale whiskey and the deafening roar of half-drunken brutes as they voted +millions in taxes, their leaders had already stolen.</p> + +<p>The red blood rushed to his cheeks and the big veins on his slender swarthy +neck stood out for a moment like drawn cords.</p> + +<p>He hurried down to the Court House Square, walked with long, leisurely +stride through the thinning crowds, and paused before a vacant lot on the +opposite side of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> the street. A dozen or more horses were still tied to the +racks provided for the accommodation of countrymen.</p> + +<p>"Funny," he muttered, "farmers start home before sundown, and it's dusk—I +wonder if it's possible!"</p> + +<p>He crossed the street, strolled carelessly among the horses and noted that +their saddles had not been removed and the still more significant fact that +their saddle blankets were unusually thick. Only an eye trained to observe +this fact would have noticed it. He lifted the edge of one of the blankets +and saw the white and scarlet edges of a Klan costume. It was true. The +young dare-devil who had sent that message to old Peeler had planned an +unauthorized raid. Only a crowd of youngsters bent on a night's fun, he +knew; and yet the act at this moment meant certain anarchy unless he nipped +it in the bud. The Klan was a dangerous institution. Its only salvation lay +in the absolute obedience of its members to the orders of an intelligent +and patriotic chief. Unless the word of that chief remained the sole law of +its life, a reign of terror by irresponsible fools would follow at once. As +commander of the Klan in his county he must subdue this lawless element. It +must be done with an iron hand and done immediately or it would be too +late. His decision to act was instantaneous.</p> + +<p>He sent a message to his wife that he couldn't get home for supper, locked +his door and in three hours finished his day's work. There was ample time +to head these boys off before they reached old Peeler's house. They +couldn't start before eleven, yet he would take no chances. He determined +to arrive an hour ahead of them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>The night was gloriously beautiful—a clear star-gemmed sky in the full +tide of a Southern summer, the first week in August. He paused inside the +gate of his home and drank for a moment the perfume of the roses on the +lawn. The light from the window of his wife's room poured a mellow flood of +welcome through the shadows beside the white, fluted columns. This home of +his father's was all the wreck of war had left him and his heart gave a +throb of joy to-night that it was his.</p> + +<p>Behind the room where the delicate wife lay, a petted invalid, was the +nursery. His baby boy was there, nestling in the arms of the black mammy +who had nursed him twenty odd years ago. He could hear the soft crooning of +her dear old voice singing the child to sleep. The heart of the young +father swelled with pride. He loved his frail little wife with a deep, +tender passion, but this big rosy-cheeked, laughing boy, which she had +given him six months ago, he fairly worshipped.</p> + +<p>He stopped again under the nursery window and listened to the music of the +cradle. The old lullaby had waked a mocking bird in a magnolia beside the +porch and he was answering her plaintive wail with a thrilling love song. +By the strange law of contrast, his memory flashed over the fields of death +he had trodden in the long war.</p> + +<p>"What does it matter after all, these wars and revolutions, if God only +brings with each new generation a nobler breed of men!"</p> + +<p>He tipped softly past the window lest his footfall disturb the loved ones +above, hurried to the stable, saddled his horse and slowly rode through the +quiet streets<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> of the town. On clearing the last clump of negro cabins on +the outskirts his pace quickened to a gallop.</p> + +<p>He stopped in the edge of the woods at the gate which opened from Peeler's +farm on the main road. The boys would have to enter here. He would stop +them at this spot.</p> + +<p>The solemn beauty of the night stirred his soul to visions of the future, +and the coming battle which his Klan must fight for the mastery of the +state. The chirp of crickets, the song of katydids and the flash of +fireflies became the martial music and the flaming torches of triumphant +hosts he saw marching to certain victory. But the Klan he was leading was a +wild horse that must be broken to the bit or both horse and rider would +plunge to ruin.</p> + +<p>There would be at least twenty or thirty of these young marauders to-night. +If they should unite in defying his authority it would be a serious and +dangerous situation. Somebody might be killed. And yet he waited without a +fear of the outcome. He had faced odds before. He loved a battle when the +enemy outnumbered him two to one. It stirred his blood. He had ridden with +Forrest one night at the head of four hundred daring, ragged veterans, +surrounded a crack Union regiment at two o'clock in the morning, and forced +their commander to surrender 1800 men before he discovered the real +strength of the attacking force. It stirred his blood to-night to know that +General Forrest was the Commander-in-Chief of his own daring Clansmen.</p> + +<p>Half an hour passed without a sign of the youngsters. He grew uneasy. Could +they have dared to ride so early that they had reached the house before his +arrival?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> He must know at once. He opened the gate and galloped down the +narrow track at a furious pace.</p> + +<p>A hundred yards from Peeler's front gate he drew rein and listened. A horse +neighed in the woods, and the piercing shriek of a woman left nothing to +doubt. They were already in the midst of their dangerous comedy.</p> + +<p>He pressed cautiously toward the gate, riding in the shadows of the +overhanging trees. They were dragging old Peeler across the yard toward the +roadway, followed by the pleading voice of a woman begging for his +worthless life.</p> + +<p>Realizing that the raid was now an accomplished fact, Norton waited to see +what the young fools were going to do. He was not long in doubt. They +dragged their panting, perspiring victim into the edge of the woods, tied +him to a sapling and bared his back. The leader stepped forward holding a +lighted torch whose flickering flames made an unearthly picture of the +distorted features and bulging eyes.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Peeler," began the solemn muffled voice behind the cloth mask, "for +your many sins and blasphemies against God and man the preachers of this +county have assembled to-night to call you to repentance——"</p> + +<p>The terror-stricken eyes bulged further and the fat neck twisted in an +effort to see how many ghastly figures surrounded him, as he gasped:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Lord—oh, hell—are you all preachers?"</p> + +<p>"All!" was the solemn echo from each sepulchral figure.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm a goner—that coffin's too big——"</p> + +<p>"Yea, verily, there'll be nothing left when we get through—Selah!" +solemnly cried the leader.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, say, look here, brethren," Peeler pleaded between shattering teeth, +"can't we compromise this thing? I'll repent and join the church. And +how'll a contribution of fifty dollars each strike you? Now what do you say +to that?"</p> + +<p>The coward's voice had melted into a pious whine.</p> + +<p>The leader selected a switch from the bundle extended by a shrouded figure +and without a word began to lay on. Peeler's screams could be heard a mile.</p> + +<p>Norton allowed them to give him a dozen lashes and spurred his horse into +the crowd. There was a wild scramble to cover and most of the boys leaped +to their saddles. Three white figures resolutely stood their ground.</p> + +<p>"What's the meaning of this, sir?" Norton sternly demanded of the man who +still held the switch.</p> + +<p>"Just a little fun, major," was the sheepish answer.</p> + +<p>"A dangerous piece of business."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, save me, Major Norton!" Peeler cried, suddenly waking from +the spell of fear. "They've got me, sir—and it's just like I told you, +they're all preachers—I'm a goner!"</p> + +<p>Norton sprang from his horse and faced the three white figures.</p> + +<p>"Who's in command of this crowd?"</p> + +<p>"I am, sir!" came the quick answer from a stalwart masquerader who suddenly +stepped from the shadows.</p> + +<p>Norton recognized the young cabinet-maker's voice, and spoke in low tense +tones:</p> + +<p>"By whose authority are you using these disguises, to-night?"</p> + +<p>"It's none of your business!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tall sinewy figure suddenly stiffened, stepped close and peered into +the eyes of the speaker's mask:</p> + +<p>"Does my word go here to-night or must I call out a division of the Klan?"</p> + +<p>A moment's hesitation and the eyes behind the mask fell:</p> + +<p>"All right, sir—nothing but a boyish frolic," muttered the leader +apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Let this be the end of such nonsense," Norton said with a quiet drawl. "If +I catch you fellows on a raid like this again I'll hang your leader to the +first limb I find—good night."</p> + +<p>A whistle blew and the beat of horses' hoofs along the narrow road told +their hurried retreat.</p> + +<p>Norton loosed the cords and led old Peeler to his house. As the fat, +wobbling legs mounted the steps the younger man paused at a sound from +behind and before he could turn a girl sprang from the shadows into his +arms, and slipped to her knees, sobbing hysterically:</p> + +<p>"Save me!—they're going to beat me—they'll beat me to death—don't let +them—please—please don't let them!"</p> + +<p>By the light from the window he saw that her hair was a deep rich red with +the slightest tendency to curl and her wide dilated eyes a soft greenish +grey.</p> + +<p>He was too astonished to speak for a moment and Peeler hastened to say:</p> + +<p>"That's our little gal, Cleo—that is—I—mean—of—course—it's Lucy's +gal! She's just home from school and she's scared to death and I don't +blame her!"</p> + +<p>The girl clung to her rescuer with desperate grip, pressing her trembling +form close with each convulsive sob.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man drew the soft arms down, held them a moment and looked into the +dumb frightened face. He was surprised at her unusual beauty. Her skin was +a delicate creamy yellow, almost white, and her cheeks were tinged with the +brownish red of ripe apple. As he looked in to her eyes he fancied that he +saw a young leopardess from an African jungle looking at him through the +lithe, graceful form of a Southern woman.</p> + +<p>And then something happened in the shadows that stood out forever in his +memory of that day as the turning point of his life.</p> + +<p>Laughing at her fears, he suddenly lifted his hand and gently stroked the +tangled red hair, smoothing it back from her forehead with a movement +instinctive, and irresistible as he would have smoothed the fur of a yellow +Persian kitten.</p> + +<p>Surprised at his act, he turned without a word and left the place.</p> + +<p>And all the way home, through the solemn starlit night, he brooded over the +strange meeting with this extraordinary girl. He forgot his fight. One +thing only stood out with increasing vividness—the curious and +irresistible impulse that caused him to stroke her hair. Personally he had +always loathed the Southern white man who stooped and crawled through the +shadows to meet such women. She was a negress and he knew it, and yet the +act was instinctive and irresistible.</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p>He asked himself the question a hundred times, and the longer he faced it +the angrier he became at his stupid folly. For hours he lay awake, seeing +in the darkness only the face of this girl.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>CLEO ENTERS</h3> + + +<p>The conference of the carpetbagger with the little Governor proved more +ominous than even Norton had feared. The blow struck was so daring, so +swift and unexpected it stunned for a moment the entire white race.</p> + +<p>When the editor reached his office on the second morning after the raid, +his desk was piled with telegrams from every quarter of the state. The +Governor had issued a proclamation disarming every white military company +and by wire had demanded the immediate surrender of their rifles to the +negro Adjutant-General. The same proclamation had created an equal number +of negro companies who were to receive these guns and equipments.</p> + +<p>The negroid state Government would thus command an armed black guard of +fifty thousand men and leave the white race without protection.</p> + +<p>Evidently His Excellency was a man of ambitions. It was rumored that he +aspired to the Vice-Presidency and meant to win the honor by a campaign of +such brilliance that the solid negro-ruled South would back him in the +National Convention.</p> + +<p>Beyond a doubt, this act was the first step in a daring attempt inspired by +the radical fanatics in Congress to destroy the structure of white +civilization in the South.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the Governor's resources were apparently boundless. President Johnson, +though a native Southerner, was a puppet now in the hands of his powerful +enemies who dominated Congress. These men boldly proclaimed their purpose +to make the South negro territory by confiscating the property of the +whites and giving it to the negroes. Their bill to do this, House Bill +Number Twenty-nine, introduced by the government leader, Thaddeus Stevens, +was already in the calendar and Mr. Stevens was pressing for its passage +with all the skill of a trained politician inspired by the fiercest hate. +The army had been sent back into the prostrate South to enforce the edicts +of Congress and the negro state government could command all the Federal +troops needed for any scheme concocted.</p> + +<p>But the little Governor had a plan up his sleeve by which he proposed to +startle even the Black Radical Administration at Washington. He was going +to stamp out "Rebellion" without the aid of Federal troops, reserving his +right to call them finally as a last resort. That they were ready at his +nod gave him the moral support of their actual presence.</p> + +<p>That any man born of a Southern mother and reared in the South under the +conditions of refinement and culture, of the high ideals and the courage of +the old régime, could fall so low as to use this proclamation, struck +Norton at first as impossible. He refused to believe it. There must be some +misunderstanding. He sent a messenger to the Capitol for a copy of the +document before he was fully convinced.</p> + +<p>And then he laughed in sheer desperation at the farce-tragedy to which the +life of a brave people had been reduced. It was his business as an editor +to record<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> the daily history of the times. For a moment in imagination he +stood outside his office and looked at his work.</p> + +<p>"Future generations simply can't be made to believe it!" he exclaimed. +"It's too grotesque to be credible even to-day."</p> + +<p>It had never occurred to him that the war was unreasonable. Its passions, +its crushing cost, its bloodstained fields, its frightful cruelties were of +the great movements of the race from a lower to a higher order of life. +Progress could only come through struggle. War was the struggle which had +to be when two great moral forces clashed. One must die, the other live. A +great issue had to be settled in the Civil War, an issue raised by the +creation of the Constitution itself, an issue its creators had not dared to +face. And each generation of compromisers and interpreters had put it off +and put it off until at last the storm of thundering guns broke from a +hundred hills at once.</p> + +<p>It had never been decided by the builders of the Republic whether it should +be a mighty unified nation or a loose aggregation of smaller sovereignties. +Slavery made it necessary to decide this fundamental question on which the +progress of America and the future leadership of the world hung.</p> + +<p>He could see all this clearly now. He had felt it dimly true throughout +every bloody scene of the war itself. And so he had closed the eyes of the +lonely dying boy with a reverent smile. It was for his country. He had died +for what he believed to be right and it was good. He had stood bareheaded +in solemn court martials and sentenced deserters to death, led them out in +the gray morning to be shot and ordered them dumped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> into shallow trenches +without a doubt or a moment's hesitation. He had walked over battlefields +at night and heard the groans of the wounded, the sighs of the dying, the +curses of the living, beneath the silent stars and felt that in the end it +must be good. It was war, and war, however cruel, was inevitable—the great +High Court of Life and Death for the nations of earth.</p> + +<p>But this base betrayal which had followed the honorable surrender of a +brave, heroic army—this wanton humiliation of a ruined people by pot-house +politicians—this war on the dead, the wounded, the dying, and their +defenseless women—this enthronement of Savagery, Superstition, Cowardice +and Brutality in high places where Courage and Honor and Chivalry had +ruled—these vandals and camp followers and vultures provoking violence and +exciting crime, set to rule a brave people who had risked all for a +principle and lost—this was a nightmare; it was the reduction of human +society to an absurdity!</p> + +<p>For a moment he saw the world red. Anger, fierce and cruel, possessed him. +The desire to kill gripped and strangled until he could scarcely breathe.</p> + +<p>Nor did it occur to this man for a moment that he could separate his +individual life from the life of his people. His paper was gaining in +circulation daily. It was paying a good dividend now and would give his +loved ones the luxuries he had dreamed for them. The greater the turmoil +the greater his profits would be. And yet this idea never once flashed +through his mind. His people were of his heart's blood. He had no life +apart from them. Their joys were his, their sorrows his, their shame his. +This proclamation of a traitor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> to his race struck him in the face as a +direct personal insult. The hot shame of it found his soul.</p> + +<p>When the first shock of surprise and indignation had spent itself, he +hurried to answer his telegrams. His hand wrote now with the eager, sure +touch of a master who knew his business. To every one he sent in substance +the same message:</p> + +<p>"Submit and await orders."</p> + +<p>As he sat writing the fierce denunciation of this act of the Chief +Executive of the state, he forgot his bitterness in the thrill of life that +meant each day a new adventure. He was living in an age whose simple record +must remain more incredible than the tales of the Arabian Nights. And the +spell of its stirring call was now upon him.</p> + +<p>The drama had its comedy moments, too. He could but laugh at the sorry +figures the little puppets cut who were strutting for a day in pomp and +splendor. Their end was as sure as the sweep of eternal law. Water could +not be made to run up hill by the proclamation of a Governor.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind within an hour to give the Scalawag a return blow +that would be more swift and surprising than his own. On the little man's +reception of that counter stroke would hang the destiny of his +administration and the history of the state for the next generation.</p> + +<p>On the day the white military companies surrendered their arms to their +negro successors something happened that was not on the programme of the +Governor.</p> + +<p>The Ku Klux Klan held its second grand parade. It was not merely a dress +affair. A swift and silent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> army of drilled, desperate men, armed and +disguised, moved with the precision of clockwork at the command of one +mind. At a given hour the armory of every negro military company in the +state was broken open and its guns recovered by the white and scarlet +cavalry of the "Invisible Empire."</p> + +<p>Within the next hour every individual negro in the state known to be in +possession of a gun or pistol was disarmed. Resistance was futile. The +attack was so sudden and so unexpected, the attacking party so overwhelming +at the moment, each black man surrendered without a blow and a successful +revolution was accomplished in a night without a shot or the loss of a +life.</p> + +<p>Next morning the Governor paced the floor of his office in the Capitol with +the rage of a maddened beast, and Schlitz, the Carpetbagger, was summoned +for a second council of war. It proved to be a very important meeting in +the history of His Excellency.</p> + +<p>The editor sat at his desk that day smiling in quiet triumph as he read the +facetious reports wired by his faithful lieutenants from every district of +the Klan. An endless stream of callers had poured through his modest little +room and prevented any attempt at writing. He had turned the columns over +to his assistants and the sun was just sinking in a smother of purple glory +when he turned from his window and began to write his leader for the day.</p> + +<p>It was an easy task. A note of defiant power ran through a sarcastic +warning to the Governor that found the quick. The editorial flashed with +wit and stung with bitter epigram. And there was in his consciousness of +power a touch of cruelty that should have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> warned the Scalawag against his +next act of supreme folly.</p> + +<p>But His Excellency had bad advisers, and the wheels of Fate moved swiftly +toward the appointed end.</p> + +<p>Norton wrote this editorial with a joy that gave its crisp sentences the +ring of inspired leadership. He knew that every paper in the state read by +white men and women would copy it and he already felt in his heart the +reflex thrill of its call to his people.</p> + +<p>He had just finished his revision of the last paragraph when a deep, +laughing voice beside his chair slowly said:</p> + +<p>"May I come in?"</p> + +<p>He looked up with a start to find the tawny figure of the girl whose red +hair he had stroked that night bowing and smiling. Her white, perfect teeth +gleamed in the gathering twilight and her smile displayed two pretty +dimples in the brownish red cheeks.</p> + +<p>"I say, may I come in?" she repeated with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"It strikes me you are pretty well in," Norton said good-humoredly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I didn't have any cards. So I came right up. It's getting dark and +nobody saw me——"</p> + +<p>The editor frowned and moved uneasily</p> + +<p>"You're alone, aren't you?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"The others have all gone to supper, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I waited 'til they left. I watched from the Square 'til I saw them +go."</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I reckon I was afraid of 'em."</p> + +<p>"And you're not afraid of me?" he laughed.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because I know you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton smiled:</p> + +<p>"You wish to see me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Is there anything wrong at Mr. Peeler's?"</p> + +<p>"No, I just came to thank you for what you did and see if you wouldn't let +me work for you?"</p> + +<p>"Work? Where—here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I can keep the place clean. My mother said it was awful. And, honest, +it's worse than I expected. It doesn't look like it's been cleaned in a +year."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it has," the editor admitted.</p> + +<p>"Let me keep it decent for you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, no. It seems more home-like this way."</p> + +<p>"Must it be so dirty?" she asked, looking about the room and picking up the +scattered papers from the floor.</p> + +<p>Norton, watching her with indulgent amusement at her impudence, saw that +she moved her young form with a rhythmic grace that was perfect. The simple +calico dress, with a dainty little check, fitted her perfectly. It was cut +low and square at the neck and showed the fine lines of a beautiful throat. +Her arms were round and finely shaped and bare to an inch above the elbows. +The body above the waistline was slender, and the sinuous free movement of +her figure showed that she wore no corset. Her step was as light as a cat's +and her voice full of good humor and the bubbling spirits of a perfectly +healthy female animal.</p> + +<p>His first impulse was to send her about her business with a word of +dismissal. But when she laughed it was with such pleasant assurance and +such faith in his friendliness it was impossible to be rude.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<p>She picked up the last crumpled paper and laid it on a table beside the +wall, turned and said softly:</p> + +<p>"Well, if you don't want me to clean up for you, anyhow, I brought you some +flowers for your room—they're outside."</p> + +<p>She darted through the door and returned in a moment with an armful of +roses.</p> + +<p>"My mother let me cut them from our yard, and she told me to thank you for +coming that night. They'd have killed us if you hadn't come."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, they wouldn't have touched either you or your mother!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they would, too. Goodness—haven't you anything to put the flowers +in?"</p> + +<p>She tipped softly about the room, holding the roses up and arranging them +gracefully.</p> + +<p>Norton watched her with a lazy amused interest. He couldn't shake off the +impression that she was a sleek young animal, playful and irresponsible, +that had strayed from home and wandered into his office. And he loved +animals. He never passed a stray dog or a cat without a friendly word of +greeting. He had often laid on his lounge at home, when tired, and watched +a kitten play an hour with unflagging interest. Every movement of this +girl's lithe young body suggested such a scene—especially the velvet tread +of her light foot, and the delicate motions of her figure followed suddenly +by a sinuous quick turn and a childish laugh or cry. The faint shadows of +negro blood in her creamy skin and the purring gentleness of her voice +seemed part of the gathering twilight. Her eyes were apparently twice the +size as when first he saw them, and the pupils, dilated in the dusk, +flashed with unusual brilliance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>She had wandered into the empty reporters' room without permission looking +for a vase, came back and stood in the doorway laughing:</p> + +<p>"This is the dirtiest place I ever got into in my life. Gracious! Isn't +there a thing to put the flowers in?"</p> + +<p>The editor, roused from his reveries, smiled and answered:</p> + +<p>"Put them in the pitcher."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, of course, the pitcher!" she cried, rushing to the little +washstand.</p> + +<p>"Why, there isn't a drop of water in it—I'll go to the well and get some."</p> + +<p>She seized the pitcher, laid the flowers down in the bowl, darted out the +door and flew across the street to the well in the Court House Square.</p> + +<p>The young editor walked carelessly to the window and watched her. She +simply couldn't get into an ungraceful attitude. Every movement was +instinct with vitality. She was alive to her finger tips. Her body swayed +in perfect rhythmic unison with her round, bare arms as she turned the +old-fashioned rope windlass, drew the bucket to the top and dropped it +easily on the wet wooden lids that flapped back in place.</p> + +<p>She was singing now a crooning, half-savage melody her mother had taught +her. The low vibrant notes of her voice, deep and tender and quivering with +a strange intensity, floated across the street through the gathering +shadows. The voice had none of the light girlish quality of her age of +eighteen, but rather the full passionate power of a woman of twenty-five. +The distance, the deepening shadows and the quiet of the town's lazy life, +added to the dreamy effectiveness of the song.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Beautiful!" the man exclaimed. "The negro race will give the world a great +singer some day——"</p> + +<p>And then for the first time in his life the paradox of his personal +attitude toward this girl and his attitude in politics toward the black +race struck him as curious. He had just finished an editorial in which he +had met the aggressions of the negro and his allies with the fury, the +scorn, the defiance, the unyielding ferocity with which the Anglo-Saxon +conqueror has always treated his inferiors. And yet he was listening to the +soft tones of this girl's voice with a smile as he watched with +good-natured indulgence the light gleam mischievously from her impudent big +eyes while she moved about his room.</p> + +<p>Yet this was not to be wondered at. The history of the South and the +history of slavery made such a paradox inevitable. The long association +with the individual negro in the intimacy of home life had broken down the +barriers of personal race repugnance. He had grown up with negro boys and +girls as playmates. He had romped and wrestled with them. Every servant in +every home he had ever known had been a negro. The first human face he +remembered bending over his cradle was a negro woman's. He had fallen +asleep in her arms times without number. He had found refuge there against +his mother's stern commands and sobbed out on her breast the story of his +fancied wrongs and always found consolation. "Mammy's darlin'" was always +right—the world cruel and wrong! He had loved this old nurse since he +could remember. She was now nursing his own and he would defend her with +his life without a moment's hesitation.</p> + +<p>And so it came about inevitably that while he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> swung his white and +scarlet legions of disguised Clansmen in solid line against the Governor +and smashed his negro army without the loss of a single life, he was at the +same moment proving himself defenseless against the silent and deadly +purpose that had already shaped itself in the soul of this sleek, sensuous +young animal. He was actually smiling with admiration at the beautiful +picture he saw as she lifted the white pitcher, placed it on the crown of +red hair, and crossed the street.</p> + +<p>She was still softly singing as she entered the room and arranged the +flowers in pretty confusion.</p> + +<p>Norton had lighted his lamp and seated himself at his desk again. She came +close and looked over his shoulder at the piles of papers.</p> + +<p>"How on earth can you work in such a mess?" she asked with a laugh.</p> + +<p>"Used to it," he answered without looking up from the final reading of his +editorial.</p> + +<p>"What's that you've written?"</p> + +<p>The impudent greenish gray eyes bent closer.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a little talk to the Governor——"</p> + +<p>"I bet it's a hot one. Peeler says you don't like the Governor—read it to +me!"</p> + +<p>The editor looked up at the mischievous young face and laughed aloud:</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand it."</p> + +<p>The girl joined in the laugh and the dimples in the reddish brown cheeks +looked prettier than ever.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I wouldn't," she agreed.</p> + +<p>He resumed his reading and she leaned over his chair until he felt the soft +touch of her shoulder against his. She was staring at his paste-pot, +extended her tapering, creamy finger and touched the paste.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What in the world's that?" she cried, giggling again.</p> + +<p>"Paste."</p> + +<p>Another peal of silly laughter echoed through the room.</p> + +<p>"Lord, I thought it was mush and milk—I thought it was your supper!—don't +you eat no supper?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes."</p> + +<p>The editor looked up with a slight frown and said:</p> + +<p>"Run along now, child, I've got to work. And tell your mother I'm obliged +for the flowers."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going back home——"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I'm scared out there. I've come in town to live with my aunt."</p> + +<p>"Well, tell her when you see her."</p> + +<p>"Please let me clean this place up for you?" she pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Not to-night."</p> + +<p>"To-morrow morning, then? I'll come early and every morning—please—let +me—it's all I can do to thank you. I'll do it a month just to show you how +pretty I can keep it and then you can pay me if you want me. It's a +bargain, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>The editor smiled, hesitated, and said:</p> + +<p>"All right—every morning at seven."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, major—good night!"</p> + +<p>She paused at the door and her white teeth gleamed in the shadows. She +turned and tripped down the stairs, humming again the strangely appealing +song she had sung at the well.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A BEAST AWAKES</h3> + + +<p>Within a week Norton bitterly regretted the arrangement he had made with +Cleo. Not because she had failed to do her work properly, but precisely +because she was doing it so well. She had apparently made it the sole +object of her daily thought and the only task to which she devoted her +time.</p> + +<p>He couldn't accustom his mind to the extraordinary neatness with which she +kept the office. The clean floor, the careful arrangement of the chairs, +the neat piles of exchanges laid on a table she had placed beside his desk, +and the vase of fresh flowers he found each morning, were constant +reminders of her personality which piqued his curiosity and disturbed his +poise.</p> + +<p>He had told her to come at seven every morning. It was his habit to reach +the office and begin reading the exchanges by eight-thirty and he had not +expected to encounter her there. She had always managed, however, to linger +over her morning tasks until his arrival, and never failed to greet him +pleasantly and ask if there were anything else she could do. She also +insisted on coming at noon to fill his pitcher and again just before supper +to change the water in the vase of flowers.</p> + +<p>At this last call she always tried to engage him in a few words of small +talk. At first this program made no impression on his busy brain except +that she was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> trying to prove her value as a servant. Gradually, however, +he began to notice that her dresses were cut with remarkable neatness for a +girl of her position and that she showed a rare talent in selecting +materials becoming to her creamy yellow skin and curling red hair.</p> + +<p>He observed, too, that she had acquired the habit of hanging about his desk +when finishing her tasks and had a queer way of looking at him and +laughing.</p> + +<p>She began to make him decidedly uncomfortable and he treated her with +indifference. No matter how sullen the scowl with which he greeted her, she +was always smiling and humming snatches of strange songs. He sought for an +excuse to discharge her and could find none. She had the instincts of a +perfect servant—intelligent, careful and loyal. She never blundered over +the papers on his desk. She seemed to know instinctively what was worthless +and what was valuable, and never made a mistake in rearranging the chaotic +piles of stuff he left in his wake.</p> + +<p>He thought once for just a moment of the possibility of her loyalty to the +negro race. She might in that case prove a valuable spy to the Governor and +his allies. He dismissed the idea as preposterous. She never associated +with negroes if she could help it and apparently was as innocent as a babe +of the nature of the terrific struggle in which he was engaged with the +negroid government of the state.</p> + +<p>And yet she disturbed him deeply and continuously, as deeply sometimes when +absent as when present.</p> + +<p>Why?</p> + +<p>He asked himself the question again and again. Why should he dislike her? +She did her work promptly and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> efficiently, and for the first time within +his memory the building was really fit for human habitation.</p> + +<p>At last he guessed the truth and it precipitated the first battle of his +life with the beast that slumbered within. Feeling her physical nearness +more acutely than usual at dusk and noting that she had paused in her task +near his desk, he slowly lifted his eyes from the paper he was reading and, +before she realized it, caught the look on her face when off guard. The +girl was in love with him. It was as clear as day now that he had the key +to her actions the past week. For this reason she had come and for this +reason she was working with such patience and skill.</p> + +<p>His first impulse was one of rage. He had little of the vanity of the male +animal that struts before the female. His pet aversion was the man of his +class who lowered himself to vulgar association with such girls. The fact +that, at this time in the history of the South, such intrigues were common +made his determination all the more bitter as a leader of his race to stand +for its purity.</p> + +<p>He suddenly swung in his chair, determined to dismiss her at once with as +few words as possible.</p> + +<p>She leaped gracefully back with a girlish laugh, so soft, low and full of +innocent surprise, the harsh words died on his lips.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, major," she cried, "how you scared me! I thought you had a fit. Did +a pin stick you—or maybe a flea bit you?"</p> + +<p>She leaned against the mantel laughing, her white teeth gleaming.</p> + +<p>He hesitated a moment, his eyes lingered on the graceful pose of her young +figure, his ear caught the soft<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> note of friendly tenderness in her voice +and he was silent.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she asked, stepping closer.</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Well, you made an awful fuss about it!"</p> + +<p>"Just thought of something—suddenly——"</p> + +<p>"I thought you were going to bite my head off and then that something bit +you!"</p> + +<p>Again she laughed and walked slowly to the door, her greenish eyes watching +him with studied carelessness, as a cat a mouse. Every movement of her +figure was music, her smile contagious, and, by a subtle mental telepathy, +she knew that the man before her felt it, and her heart was singing a +savage song of triumph. She could wait. She had everything to gain and +nothing to lose. She belonged to the pariah world of the Negro. Her love +was patient, joyous, insistent, unconquerable.</p> + +<p>It was unusually joyous to-night because she felt without words that the +mad desires that burned a living fire in every nerve of her young body had +scorched the man she had marked her own from the moment she had first laid +eyes on his serious, aristocratic face—for back of every hysterical cry +that came from her lips that night in the shadows beside old Peeler's house +lay the sinister purpose of a mad love that had leaped full grown from the +deeps of her powerful animal nature.</p> + +<p>She paused in the doorway and softly said:</p> + +<p>"Good night."</p> + +<p>The tone of her voice was a caress and the bold eyes laughed a daring +challenge straight into his.</p> + +<p>He stared at her a moment, flushed, turned pale and answered in a strained +voice:</p> + +<p>"Good night, Cleo."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>But it was not a good night for him. It was a night never to be forgotten. +Until after twelve he walked beneath the stars and fought the Beast—the +Beast with a thousand heads and a thousand legs; the Beast that had been +bred in the bone and sinew of generations of ancestors, wilful, cruel, +courageous conquerors of the world. Before its ravenous demands the words +of mother, teacher, priest and lawgiver were as chaff before the +whirlwind—the Beast demanded his own! Peace came at last with the vision +of a baby's laughing face peeping at him from the arms of a frail little +mother.</p> + +<p>He made up his mind and hurried home. He would get rid of this girl +to-morrow and never again permit her shadow to cross his pathway. With +other men of more sluggish temperament, position, dignity, the +responsibility of leadership, the restraints of home and religion might be +the guarantee of safety under such temptations. He didn't propose to risk +it. He understood now why he was so nervous and distracted in her presence. +The mere physical proximity to such a creature, vital, magnetic, unmoral, +beautiful and daring, could only mean one thing to a man of his age and +inheritance—a temptation so fierce that yielding could only be a question +of time and opportunity.</p> + +<p>And when he told her the next morning that she must not come again she was +not surprised, but accepted his dismissal without a word of protest.</p> + +<p>With a look of tenderness she merely said:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he went on curtly, "you annoy me; I can't write while you are +puttering around, and I'm always afraid you'll disturb some of my papers."</p> + +<p>She laughed in his face, a joyous, impudent, good-natured,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> ridiculous +laugh, that said more eloquently than words:</p> + +<p>"I understand your silly excuse. You're afraid of me. You're a big coward. +Don't worry, I can wait. You'll come to me. And if not, I'll find you—for +I shall be near—and now that you know and fear, I shall be very near!"</p> + +<p>She moved shyly to the door and stood framed in its white woodwork, an +appealing picture of dumb regret.</p> + +<p>She had anticipated this from the first. And from the moment she threw the +challenge into his eyes the night before, saw him flush and pale beneath +it, she knew it must come at once, and was prepared. There was no use to +plead and beg or argue. It would be a waste of breath with him in this +mood.</p> + +<p>Besides, she had already found a better plan.</p> + +<p>So when he began to try to soften his harsh decision with kindly words she +only smiled in the friendliest possible way, stepped back to his desk, +extended her hand, and said:</p> + +<p>"Please let me know if you need me. I'll do anything on earth for you, +major. Good-by."</p> + +<p>It was impossible to refuse the gracefully outstretched hand. The Southern +man had been bred from the cradle to the most intimate and friendly +personal relations with the black folks who were servants in the house. Yet +the moment he touched her hand, felt its soft warm pressure and looked into +the depths of her shining eyes he wished that he had sent her away with +downright rudeness.</p> + +<p>But it was impossible to be rude with this beautiful young animal that +purred at his side. He started to say something harsh, she laughed and he +laughed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> + +<p>She held his hand clasped in hers for a moment and slowly said:</p> + +<p>"I haven't done anything wrong, have I, major?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You are not mad at me for anything?"</p> + +<p>"No, certainly not."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why you won't let me work here?"</p> + +<p>She looked about the room and back at him, speaking slowly, musingly, with +an impudence that left little doubt in his mind that she suspected the real +reason and was deliberately trying to tease him.</p> + +<p>He flushed, hurriedly withdrew his hand and replied carelessly:</p> + +<p>"You bother me—can't work when you're fooling around."</p> + +<p>"All right, good-bye."</p> + +<p>He turned to his work and she was gone. He was glad she was out of his +sight and out of his life forever. He had been a fool to allow her in the +building at all.</p> + +<p>He could concentrate his mind now on his fight with the Governor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE ARREST</h3> + + +<p>The time had come in Norton's fight when he was about to be put to a +supreme test.</p> + +<p>The Governor was preparing the most daring and sensational movement of his +never-to-be-forgotten administration. The audacity and thoroughness with +which the Klan had disarmed and made ridiculous his army of fifty thousand +negroes was at first a stunning blow. In vain Schlitz stormed and pleaded +for National aid.</p> + +<p>"You must ask for Federal troops without a moment's delay," he urged +desperately.</p> + +<p>The Scalawag shook his head with quiet determination.</p> + +<p>"Congress, under the iron rule of Stevens, will send them, I grant you——"</p> + +<p>"Then why hesitate?"</p> + +<p>"Because their coming would mean that I have been defeated on my own soil, +that my administration of the state is a failure."</p> + +<p>"Well, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No; I'll make good my promises to the men in Washington who have backed +me. They are preparing to impeach the President, remove him from office and +appoint a dictator in his stead. I'll show them that I can play my part in +the big drama, too. I am going to deliver this state bound hand and foot +into their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> hands, with a triumphant negro electorate in the saddle, or +I'll go down in ignominious defeat."</p> + +<p>"You'll go down, all right—without those troops—mark my word," cried the +Carpetbagger.</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll go down flying my own flag."</p> + +<p>"You're a fool!" Schlitz roared. "Union troops are our only hope!"</p> + +<p>His Excellency kept his temper. The little ferret eyes beneath their bushy +brows were drawn to narrow lines as he slowly said:</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, my dear Schlitz, I don't think I could depend on +Federal troops if they were here."</p> + +<p>"No?" was the indignant sneer.</p> + +<p>"Frankly I do not," was the even answer. "Federal officers have not shown +themselves very keen about executing the orders of Reconstruction +Governors. They have often pretended to execute them and in reality treated +us with contempt. They hold, in brief, that they fought to preserve the +Union, not to make negroes rule over white men! The task before us is not +to their liking. I don't trust them for a moment. I have a better plan——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"I propose to raise immediately an army of fifty thousand loyal white men, +arm and drill them without delay——"</p> + +<p>"Where'll you get them?" Schlitz cried incredulously.</p> + +<p>"I'll find them if I have to drag the gutters for every poor white scamp in +the state. They'll be a tough lot, maybe, but they'll make good soldiers. A +soldier is a man who obeys orders, draws his pay, and asks no +questions——"</p> + +<p>"And then what?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And then, sir!—--"</p> + +<p>The Governor's leathery little face flushed as he sprang to his feet and +paced the floor of his office in intense excitement.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what then!" Schlitz cried with scorn.</p> + +<p>The pacing figure paused and eyed his tormentor, lifting his shaggy brows:</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"And then," the Carpetbagger answered, "the Ku Klux Klan will rise in a +night, jump on your mob of ragamuffins, take their guns and kick them back +into the gutter."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," the Governor said, musingly, "if I give them a chance! But I +won't!"</p> + +<p>"You won't? How can you prevent it?"</p> + +<p>"Very simply. I'll issue a proclamation suspending the <i>writ</i> of <i>habeas +corpus</i>——"</p> + +<p>"But you have no right," Schlitz gasped. The ex-scullion had been studying +law the past two years and aspired to the Supreme Court bench.</p> + +<p>"My right is doubtful, but it will go in times of revolution. I'll suspend +the <i>writ</i>, arrest the leaders of the Klan without warrant, put them in +jail and hold them there without trial until the day after the election."</p> + +<p>Schlitz's eyes danced as he sprang forward and extended his fat hand to the +Scalawag:</p> + +<p>"Governor, you're a great man! Only a great mind would dare such a plan. +But do you think your life will be safe?"</p> + +<p>The little figure was drawn erect and the ferret eyes flashed:</p> + +<p>"The Governor of a mighty commonwealth—they wouldn't dare lift their +little finger against me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>Schlitz shook his head dubiously.</p> + +<p>"A pretty big job in times of peace—to suspend the civil law, order +wholesale arrests without warrants by a ragged militia and hold your men +without trial——"</p> + +<p>"I like the job!" was the quick answer. "I'm going to show the smart young +man who edits the paper in this town that he isn't running the universe."</p> + +<p>Again the adventurer seized the hand of his chief:</p> + +<p>"Governor, you're a great man! I take my hat off to you, sir."</p> + +<p>His Excellency smiled, lifted his sloping shoulders, moistened his thin +lips and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Not a word now to a living soul until I strike——"</p> + +<p>"I understand, sir, not a word," the Carpetbagger replied in low tones as +he nervously fumbled his hat and edged his way out of the room.</p> + +<p>The editor received the Governor's first move in the game with contempt. It +was exactly what he had expected—this organization of white renegades, +thieves, loafers, cut-throats, and deserters. It was the last resort of +desperation. Every day, while these dirty ignorant recruits were being +organized and drilled, he taunted the Governor over the personnel of his +"Loyal" army. He began the publication of the history of its officers and +men. These biographical stories were written with a droll humor that kept +the whole state in a good-humored ripple of laughter and inspired the +convention that nominated a complete white man's ticket to renewed +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>And then the bolt from the blue—the Governor's act of supreme madness!</p> + +<p>As the editor sat at his desk writing an editorial congratulating the state +on the brilliant ticket that the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> white race had nominated and predicting +its triumphant election, in spite of negroes, thieves, cut-throats, +Scalawags and Carpetbaggers, a sudden commotion on the sidewalk in front of +his office stopped his pencil in the midst of an unfinished word.</p> + +<p>He walked to the window and looked out. By the flickering light of the +street lamp he saw an excited crowd gathering in the street.</p> + +<p>A company of the Governor's new guard had halted in front. An officer +ripped off the palings from the picket fence beside the building and sent a +squad of his men to the rear.</p> + +<p>The tramp of heavy feet on the stairs was heard and the dirty troopers +crowded into the editor's room, muskets in hand, cocked, and their fingers +on the triggers.</p> + +<p>Norton quietly drew the pencil from his ear, smiled at the mottled group of +excited men, and spoke in his slow drawl:</p> + +<p>"And why this excitement, gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>The captain stepped forward:</p> + +<p>"Are you Major Daniel Norton?"</p> + +<p>"I am, sir."</p> + +<p>"You're my prisoner."</p> + +<p>"Show your warrant!" was the quick challenge.</p> + +<p>"I don't need one, sir."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! And since when is this state under martial law?"</p> + +<p>"Will you go peaceable?" the captain asked roughly.</p> + +<p>"When I know by whose authority you make this arrest."</p> + +<p>The editor walked close to the officer, drew himself erect, his hands +clenched behind his back and held the man's eye for a moment with a cold +stare.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>The captain hesitated and drew a document from his pocket.</p> + +<p>The editor scanned it hastily and suddenly turned pale:</p> + +<p>"A proclamation suspending the <i>writ</i> of <i>habeas corpus</i>—impossible!"</p> + +<p>The captain lifted his dirty palms:</p> + +<p>"I reckon you can read!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I can read it, captain—still it's impossible. You can't suspend +the law of gravitation by saying so on a scrap of paper——"</p> + +<p>"You are ready to go?"</p> + +<p>The editor laughed:</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly—with pleasure, I assure you."</p> + +<p>The captain lifted his hand and his men lowered their guns. The editor +seized a number of blank writing pads, a box of pencils, put on his hat and +called to his assistants:</p> + +<p>"I'm moving my office temporarily to the county jail, boys. It's quieter +over there. I can do better work. Send word to my home that I'm all right +and tell my wife not to worry for a minute. Every man to his post now and +the liveliest paper ever issued! And on time to the minute."</p> + +<p>The printers had crowded into the room and a ringing cheer suddenly +startled the troopers.</p> + +<p>The foreman held an ugly piece of steel in his hand and every man seemed to +have hold of something.</p> + +<p>"Give the word, chief!" the foreman cried.</p> + +<p>The editor smiled:</p> + +<p>"Thanks, boys, I understand. Go back to your work. You can help best that +way."</p> + +<p>The men dropped their weapons and crowded to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> door, jeering and howling +in derision at the awkward squad as they stumbled down the stairs after +their commander, who left the building holding tightly to the editor's arm, +as if at any moment he expected an escape or a rescue.</p> + +<p>The procession wended its way to the jail behind the Court House through a +crowd of silent men who merely looked at the prisoner, smiled and nodded to +him over the heads of his guard.</p> + +<p>An ominous quiet followed the day's work. The Governor was amazed at the +way his sensational coup was received. He had arrested and thrown into jail +without warrant the leaders of the white party in every county in the +state. He was absolutely sure that these men were the leaders of the Ku +Klux Klan, the one invisible but terrible foe he really feared.</p> + +<p>He had expected bluster, protests, mass meetings and fiery resolutions. +Instead his act was received with a silence that was uncanny. In vain his +Carpetbagger lieutenant congratulated him on the success of his Napoleonic +move.</p> + +<p>His little ferret eyes snapped with suppressed excitement.</p> + +<p>"But what the devil is the meaning of this silence, Schlitz?" he asked with +a tremor.</p> + +<p>"They're stunned, I tell you. It was a master stroke. They're a lot of +cowards and sneaks, these night raiders, anyhow. It only took a bold act of +authority to throw them into a panic."</p> + +<p>The Scalawag shook his head thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"Doesn't look like a panic to me—I'm uneasy——"</p> + +<p>"The only possible mistake you've made was the arrest of Norton."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I know public sentiment in the North don't like an attempt to +suppress free speech, but I simply had to do it. Damn him, I've stood his +abuse as long as I'm going to. Besides his dirty sheet is at the bottom of +all our trouble."</p> + +<p>When the Governor scanned his copy of the next morning's <i>Eagle and +Phoenix</i> his feeling of uneasiness increased.</p> + +<p>Instead of the personal abuse he had expected from the young firebrand, he +read a long, carefully written editorial reviewing the history of the great +<i>writ</i> of <i>habeas corpus</i> in the evolution of human freedom. The essay +closed with the significant statement that no Governor in the records of +the state or the colony had ever dared to repeal or suspend this guarantee +of Anglo-Saxon liberty—not even for a moment during the chaos of the Civil +War.</p> + +<p>But the most disquieting feature of this editorial was the suggestive fact +that it was set between heavy mourning lines and at the bottom of it stood +a brief paragraph enclosed in even heavier black bands:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"We regret to announce that the state is at present without +a chief executive. Our late unlamented Governor passed away +in a fit of insanity at three o'clock yesterday."</p></div> + +<p>When the little Scalawag read the sarcastic obituary he paled for a moment +and the hand which held the paper trembled so violently he was compelled to +lay it on the table to prevent his secretary from noting his excitement.</p> + +<p>For the first time in the history of the state an armed guard was stationed +at the door of the Governor's mansion that night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>The strange calm continued. No move was made by the negroid government to +bring the imprisoned men to trial and apparently no effort was being made +by the men inside the jails to regain their liberty.</p> + +<p>Save that his editorials were dated from the county jail, no change had +occurred in the daily routine of the editor's life. He continued his series +of articles on the history of the state each day, setting them in heavy +black mourning lines. Each of these editorials ended with an appeal to the +patriotism of the reader. And the way in which he told the simple story of +each step achieved in the blood-marked struggle for liberty had a punch in +it that boded ill for the little man who had set himself the task of +dictatorship for a free people.</p> + +<p>No reference was made in the <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i> to the Governor. He was +dead. The paper ignored his existence. Each day of this ominous peace among +his enemies increased the terror which had gripped the little Scalawag from +the morning he had read his first obituary. The big black rules down the +sides of those editorials seemed a foot wide now when he read them.</p> + +<p>Twice he seated himself at his desk to order the editor's release and each +time cringed and paused at the thought of the sneers with which his act +would be greeted. He was now between the devil and the deep sea. He was +afraid to retreat and dared not take the next step forward. If he could +hold his ground for two weeks longer, and carry the election by the +overwhelming majority he had planned, all would be well. Such a victory, +placing him in power for four years and giving him an obedient negro +Legislature once more to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> do his bidding, would strike terror to his foes +and silence their assaults. The negro voters far outnumbered the whites, +and victory was a certainty. And so he held his ground—until something +happened!</p> + +<p>It began in a semi-tropical rain storm that swept the state. All day it +poured in blinding torrents, the wind steadily rising in velocity until at +noon it was scarcely possible to walk the streets.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock the rain ceased to fall and by nine glimpses of the moon +could be seen as the fast flying clouds parted for a moment. But for these +occasional flashes of moonlight the night was pitch dark. The Governor's +company of nondescript soldiers in camp at the Capitol, drenched with rain, +had abandoned their water-soaked tents for the more congenial atmosphere of +the low dives and saloons of the negro quarters.</p> + +<p>The minute the rain ceased to fall, Norton's wife sent his supper—but +to-night by a new messenger. Cleo smiled at him across the little table as +she skillfully laid the cloth, placed the dishes and set a tiny vase of +roses in the center.</p> + +<p>"You see," she began, smiling, "your wife needed me and I'm working at your +house now, major."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Mammy isn't well and I help with the baby. He's a darling. He loved +me the minute I took him in my arms and hugged him."</p> + +<p>"No doubt."</p> + +<p>"His little mother likes me, too. I can pick her up in my arms and carry +her across the room. You wouldn't think I'm so strong, would you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I would," he answered slowly, studying her with a look of increasing +wonder at her audacity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You're not mad at me for being there, are you? You can't be—mammy wants +me so"—she paused—"Lordy, I forgot the letter!"</p> + +<p>She drew from her bosom a note from his wife. He looked curiously at a +smudge where it was sealed and, glancing at the girl who was busy with the +tray, opened and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I have just received a message from MacArthur's daughter +that your life is to be imperilled to-night by a dangerous +raid. Remember your helpless wife and baby. Surely there are +trusted men who can do such work. You have often told me +that no wise general ever risks his precious life on the +firing line. You are a soldier, and know this. Please, +dearest, do not go. Baby and little mother both beg of you!"</p></div> + +<p>Norton looked at Cleo again curiously. He was sure that the seal of this +note had been broken and its message read by her.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what's in this note, Cleo?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"No, sir!" was the quick answer.</p> + +<p>He studied her again closely. She was on guard now. Every nerve alert, +every faculty under perfect control. He was morally sure she was lying and +yet it could only be idle curiosity or jealous interest in his affairs that +prompted the act. That she should be an emissary of the Governor was +absurd.</p> + +<p>"It's not bad news, I hope?" she asked with an eagerness that was just a +little too eager. The man caught the false note and frowned.</p> + +<p>"No," he answered carelessly. "It's of no importance." He picked up a pad +and wrote a hurried answer:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Don't worry a moment, dear. I am not in the slightest +danger. I know a soldier's duty and I'll not forget it. +Sleep soundly, little mother and baby mine!"</p></div> + +<p>He folded the sheet of paper and handed it to her without sealing it. She +was watching him keenly. His deep, serious eyes no longer saw her. His body +was there, but the soul was gone. The girl had never seen him in this mood. +She was frightened. His life <i>was</i> in danger. She knew it now by an +unerring instinct. She would watch the jail and see what happened. She +might do something to win his friendship, and then—the rest would be easy. +Her hand trembled as she took the note.</p> + +<p>"Give this to Mrs. Norton at once," he said, "and tell her you found me +well and happy in my work."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," the soft voice answered mechanically as she picked up the tray +and left the room watching him furtively.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>THE RESCUE</h3> + + +<p>Cleo hurried to the house, delivered the message, rocked the baby to sleep +and quietly slipped through the lawn into the street and back to the jail.</p> + +<p>A single guard kept watch at the door. She saw him by a flash of moonlight +and then passed so close she could have touched the long old-fashioned +musket he carried loosely across his shoulder.</p> + +<p>The cat-like tread left no echo and she took her stand in the underbrush +that had pushed its way closer and closer until its branches touched the +rear walls of the jail. For two hours she stood amid the shadows, her keen +young ears listening and her piercing eyes watching. Again and again she +counted the steps the sentinel made as he walked back and forth in front of +the entrance to the jail.</p> + +<p>She knew from the sound that he passed the corner of the building for three +steps in full view from her position, could she but see him through the +darkness. Twice she had caught a glimpse of his stupid face as the moon +flashed a moment of light through a rift of clouds.</p> + +<p>"The Lord help that idiot," she muttered, "if the major's men want to pass +him to-night!"</p> + +<p>She turned with a sharp start. The bushes softly parted behind her and a +stealthy step drew near. Her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> heart stood still. She was afraid to breathe. +They wouldn't hurt her if they only knew she was the major's friend. But if +they found and recognized her as old Peeler's half-breed daughter, they +might kill her on the spot as a spy.</p> + +<p>She hadn't thought of this terrible possibility before. It was too late now +to think. To run meant almost certain death. She flattened her figure +against the wall of the jail and drew the underbrush close completely +covering her form.</p> + +<p>She stood motionless and as near breathless as possible until the two men +who were approaching a step at a time had passed. At the corner of the jail +they stopped within three feet of her. She could hear every word of their +conference.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mac, do as I tell you," a voice whispered. "Jump on him from behind +as he passes the corner and get him in the gills."</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>"Choke him stiff until I get something in his mouth."</p> + +<p>"Ah, it's too easy. I'd like a little excitement."</p> + +<p>"We'll get it before morning——"</p> + +<p>"Sh! what's that?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't hear anything!"</p> + +<p>"Something moved."</p> + +<p>A bush had slipped from Cleo's hand. She gripped the others with +desperation. Ten minutes passed amid a death-like silence. A hundred times +she imagined the hand of one of these men feeling for her throat. At last +she drew a deep breath.</p> + +<p>The men began to move step by step toward the doomed sentinel. They were +standing beside the front corner of the jail now waiting panther-like for +their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> prey. They allowed him to pass twice. He stopped at the end of his +beat, blew his nose and spoke to himself:</p> + +<p>"God, what a lonely night!"</p> + +<p>The girl heard him turn, his feet measure three steps on his return and +stop with a dull thud. She couldn't see, but she could feel through the +darkness the grip of those terrible fingers on his throat. The only sound +made was the dull thud of his body on the wet ground.</p> + +<p>In two minutes they had carried him into the shadows of a big china tree in +the rear and tied him to the trunk. She could hear their sharp order:</p> + +<p>"Break those cords now or dare to open your mouth and, no matter what +happens, we'll kill you first—just for luck."</p> + +<p>In ten minutes they had reported the success of their work to their +comrades who were waiting and the men who had been picked for their +dangerous task surrounded the jail and slowly took up their appointed +places in the shadows.</p> + +<p>The attacking group stopped for their final instructions not five feet from +the girl's position. A flash of moonlight and she saw them—six grim white +and scarlet figures wearing spiked helmets from which fell a cloth mask to +their shoulders. Their big revolvers were buckled on the outside of their +disguises and each man's hand rested on the handle.</p> + +<p>One of them quietly slipped his robe from his shoulders, removed his +helmet, put on the sentinel's coat and cap, seized his musket and walked to +the door of the jail.</p> + +<p>She heard him drop the butt of the gun on the flagstone at the steps and +call:</p> + +<p>"Hello, jailer!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Some one stirred inside. It was not yet one o'clock and the jailer who had +been to a drinking bout with the soldiers had not gone to bed. In his shirt +sleeves he thrust his head out the door:</p> + +<p>"Who is it?"</p> + +<p>"The guard, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, what the devil do you want?"</p> + +<p>"Can't ye gimme a drink of somethin'? I'm soaked through and I've caught +cold——"</p> + +<p>"All right, in a minute," was the gruff reply.</p> + +<p>The girl could hear the soft tread of the shrouded figures closing in on +the front door. A moment more and it opened. The voice inside said:</p> + +<p>"Here you are!"</p> + +<p>The words had scarcely passed his lips, and there was another dull crash. A +dozen masked Clansmen hurled themselves into the doorway and rushed over +the prostrate form of the half-drunken jailer. He was too frightened to +call for help. He lay with his face downward, begging for his life.</p> + +<p>It was the work of a minute to take the keys from his trembling fingers, +bind and gag him, and release Norton. The whole thing had been done so +quietly not even a dog had barked at the disturbance.</p> + +<p>Again they stopped within a few feet of the trembling figure against the +wall. The editor had now put on his disguise and stood in the centre of the +group giving his orders as quietly as though he were talking to his +printers about the form of his paper.</p> + +<p>"Quick now, Mac," she heard him say, "we've not a moment to lose. I want +two pieces of scantling strong enough for a hangman's beam. Push one of +them out of the center window of the north end of the Capitol<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> building, +the other from the south end. We'll hang the little Scalawag on the south +side and the Carpetbagger on the north. We'll give them this grim touch of +poetry at the end. Your ropes have ready swinging from these beams. Keep +your men on guard there until I come."</p> + +<p>"All right, sir!" came the quick response.</p> + +<p>"My hundred picked men are waiting?"</p> + +<p>"On the turnpike at the first branch——"</p> + +<p>"Good! The Governor is spending the night at Schlitz's place, three miles +out. He has been afraid to sleep at home of late, I hear. We'll give the +little man and his pal a royal escort for once as they approach the +Capitol—expect us within an hour."</p> + +<p>A moment and they were gone. The girl staggered from her cramped position +and flew to the house. She couldn't understand it all, but she realized +that if the Governor were killed it meant possible ruin for the man she had +marked her own.</p> + +<p>A light was still burning in the mother's room. She had been nervous and +restless and couldn't sleep. She heard the girl's swift, excited step on +the stairway and rushed to the door:</p> + +<p>"What is it? What has happened?"</p> + +<p>Cleo paused for breath and gasped:</p> + +<p>"They've broken the jail open and he's gone with the Ku Klux to kill the +Governor!"</p> + +<p>"To kill the Governor?"</p> + +<p>"Yessum. He's got a hundred men waiting out on the turnpike and they're +going to hang the Governor from one of the Capitol windows!"</p> + +<p>The wife caught the girl by the shoulders and cried:</p> + +<p>"Who told you this?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nobody. I saw them. I was passing the jail, heard a noise and went close +in the dark. I heard the major give the orders to the men."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God!" the little mother groaned. "And they are going straight to +the Governor's mansion?"</p> + +<p>"No—no—he said the Governor's out at Schlitz's place, spending the night. +They're going to kill him, too——"</p> + +<p>"Then there's time to stop them—quick—can you hitch a horse?"</p> + +<p>"Yessum!"</p> + +<p>"Run to the stable, hitch my horse to the buggy and take a note I'll write +to my grandfather, old Governor Carteret—you know where his place is—the +big red brick house at the edge of town?"</p> + +<p>"Yessum——"</p> + +<p>"His street leads into the turnpike—quick now—the horse and buggy!"</p> + +<p>The strong young body sprang down the steps three and four rounds at a leap +and in five minutes the crunch of swift wheels on the gravel walk was +heard.</p> + +<p>She sprang up the stairs, took the note from the frail, trembling little +hand and bounded out of the house again.</p> + +<p>The clouds had passed and the moon was shining now in silent splendor on +the sparkling refreshed trees and shrubbery. The girl was an expert in +handling a horse. Old Peeler had at least taught her that. In five more +minutes from the time she had left the house she was knocking furiously at +the old Governor's door. He was eighty-four, but a man of extraordinary +vigor for his age.</p> + +<p>He came to the door alone in his night-dress, candle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> in hand, scowling at +the unseemly interruption of his rest.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" he cried with impatience.</p> + +<p>"A note from Mrs. Norton."</p> + +<p>At the mention of her name the fine old face softened and then his eyes +flashed:</p> + +<p>"She is ill?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir—but she wants you to help her."</p> + +<p>He took the note, placed the candle on the old-fashioned mahogany table in +his hall, returned to his room for his glasses, adjusted them with +deliberation and read its startling message.</p> + +<p>He spoke without looking up:</p> + +<p>"You know the road to Schlitz's house?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, every foot of it."</p> + +<p>"I'll be ready in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>"We've no time to lose—you'd better hurry," the girl said nervously.</p> + +<p>The old man lifted his eyebrows:</p> + +<p>"I will. But an ex-Governor of the state can't rush to meet the present +Governor in his shirt-tail—now, can he?"</p> + +<p>Cleo laughed:</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>The thin, sprightly figure moved quickly in spite of the eighty-four years +and in less than ten minutes he was seated beside the girl and they were +flying over the turnpike toward the Schlitz place.</p> + +<p>"How long since those men left the jail?" the old Governor asked roughly.</p> + +<p>"About a half-hour, sir."</p> + +<p>"Give your horse the rein—we'll be too late, I'm afraid."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p>The lines slacked over the spirited animal's back and he sprang forward as +though lashed by the insult to his high breeding.</p> + +<p>The sky was studded now with stars sparkling in the air cleared by the +rain, and the moon flooded the white roadway with light. The buggy flew +over the beaten track for a mile, and as they suddenly plunged down a hill +the old man seized both sides of the canopy top to steady his body as the +light rig swayed first one way and then the other.</p> + +<p>"You're going pretty fast," he grumbled.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you said to give him the reins."</p> + +<p>"But I didn't say to throw them on the horse's head, did I?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," the girl giggled.</p> + +<p>"Pull him in!" he ordered sharply.</p> + +<p>The strong young arms drew the horse suddenly down on his haunches and the +old man lurched forward.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say pull him into the buggy," he growled.</p> + +<p>The girl suppressed another laugh. He was certainly a funny old man for all +his eighty odd winters. She thought that he must have been a young devil at +eighteen.</p> + +<p>"Stop a minute!" he cried sharply. "What's that roaring?"</p> + +<p>Cleo listened:</p> + +<p>"The wind in the trees, I think."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort—isn't this Buffalo creek?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"That's water we hear. The creek's out of banks. The storm has made the +ford impassable. They haven't crossed this place yet. We're in time."</p> + +<p>The horse lifted his head and neighed. Another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> answered from the woods and +in a moment a white-masked figure galloped up to the buggy and spoke +sharply:</p> + +<p>"You can't cross this ford—turn back."</p> + +<p>"Are you one of Norton's men?" the old man asked angrily.</p> + +<p>"None of your damned business!" was the quick answer.</p> + +<p>"I think it is, sir! I'm Governor Carteret. My age and services to this +state entitle me to a hearing to-night. Tell Major Norton I must speak to +him immediately—immediately, sir!" His voice rose to a high note of +imperious command.</p> + +<p>The horseman hesitated and galloped into the shadows. A moment later a tall +shrouded figure on horseback slowly approached.</p> + +<p>"Cut your wheel," the old Governor said to the girl. He stepped from the +buggy without assistance. "Now turn round and wait for me." Cleo obeyed, +and the venerable statesman with head erect, his white hair and beard +shining in the moonlight calmly awaited the approach of the younger man.</p> + +<p>Norton dismounted and led his horse, the rein hanging loosely over his arm.</p> + +<p>"Well, Governor Carteret"—the drawling voice was low and quietly +determined.</p> + +<p>The white-haired figure suddenly stiffened:</p> + +<p>"Don't insult me, sir, by talking through a mask—take that thing off your +head."</p> + +<p>The major bowed and removed his mask.</p> + +<p>When the old man spoke again, his voice trembled with emotion, he stepped +close and seized Norton's arm:</p> + +<p>"My boy, have you gone mad?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think not," was the even answer. The deep brown eyes were holding the +older man's gaze with a cold, deadly look. "Were you ever arrested, +Governor, by the henchmen of a peanut politician and thrown into a filthy +jail without warrant and held without trial at the pleasure of a master?"</p> + +<p>"No—by the living God!"</p> + +<p>"And if you had been, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I'd have killed him as I would a dog—I'd have shot him on sight—but +you—you can't do this now, my boy—you carry the life of the people in +your hands to-night! You are their chosen leader. The peace and dignity of +a great commonwealth are in your care——"</p> + +<p>"I am asserting its outraged dignity against a wretch who has basely +betrayed it."</p> + +<p>"Even so, this is not the way. Think of the consequences to-morrow morning. +The President will be forced against his wishes to declare the state in +insurrection. The army will be marched back into our borders and martial +law proclaimed."</p> + +<p>"The state is under martial law—the <i>writ</i> has been suspended."</p> + +<p>"But not legally, my boy. I know your provocation has been great—yes, +greater than I could have borne in my day. I'll be honest with you, but +you've had better discipline, my son. I belong to the old régime and an +iron will has been my only law. You must live in the new age under new +conditions. You must adjust yourself to these conditions."</p> + +<p>"The man who calls himself Governor has betrayed his high trust," Norton +broke in with solemn emphasis. "He has forfeited his life. The people whom +he has basely sold into bondage will applaud his execution.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> The Klan +to-night is the high court of a sovereign state and his death has been +ordered."</p> + +<p>"I insist there's a better way. Your Klan is a resistless weapon if +properly used. You are a maniac to-night. You are pulling your own house +down over your head. The election is but a few weeks off. Use your men as +an army to force this election. The ballot is force—physical force. Apply +that force. Your men can master that rabble of negroes on election day. +Drive them from the polls. They'll run like frightened sheep. Their +enfranchisement is a crime against civilization. Every sane man in the +North knows this. No matter how violent your methods, an election that +returns the intelligent and decent manhood of a state to power against a +corrupt, ignorant and vicious mob will be backed at last by the moral +sentiment of the world. There's a fiercer vengeance to be meted out to your +Scalawag Governor——"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" the younger man asked.</p> + +<p>"Swing the power of your Klan in solid line against the ballot-box at this +election, carry the state, elect your Legislature, impeach the Governor, +remove him from office, deprive him of citizenship and send him to the +grave with the brand of shame on his forehead!"</p> + +<p>The leader lifted his somber face, and the older man saw that he was +hesitating:</p> + +<p>"That's possible—yes——"</p> + +<p>The white head moved closer:</p> + +<p>"The only rational thing to do, my boy—come, I love you and I love my +granddaughter. You've a great career before you. Don't throw your life away +to-night in a single act of madness. Listen to an old man whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> sands are +nearly run"—a trembling arm slipped around his waist.</p> + +<p>"I appreciate your coming here to-night, Governor, of course."</p> + +<p>"But if I came in vain, why at all?" there were tears in his voice now. +"You must do as I say, my son—send those men home! I'll see the Governor +to-morrow morning and I pledge you my word of honor that I'll make him +revoke that proclamation within an hour and restore the civil rights of the +people. None of those arrests are legal and every man must be released."</p> + +<p>"He won't do it."</p> + +<p>"When he learns from my lips that I saved his dog's life to-night, he'll do +it and lick my feet in gratitude. Won't you trust me, boy?"</p> + +<p>The pressure of the old man's arm tightened and his keen eyes searched +Norton's face. The strong features were convulsed with passion, he turned +away and the firm mouth closed with decision:</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll take your advice."</p> + +<p>The old Governor was very still for a moment and his voice quivered with +tenderness as he touched Norton's arm affectionately:</p> + +<p>"You're a good boy, Dan! I knew you'd hear me. God! how I envy you the +youth and strength that's yours to fight this battle!"</p> + +<p>The leader blew a whistle and his orderly galloped up:</p> + +<p>"Tell my men to go home and meet me to-morrow at one o'clock in the Court +House Square, in their everyday clothes, armed and ready for orders. I'll +dismiss the guard I left at the Capitol."</p> + +<p>The white horseman wheeled and galloped away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> Norton quietly removed his +disguise, folded it neatly, took off his saddle, placed the robe between +the folds of the blanket and mounted his horse.</p> + +<p>The old Governor waved to him:</p> + +<p>"My love to the little mother and that boy, Tom, that you've named for me!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Governor—good night."</p> + +<p>The tall figure on horseback melted into the shadows and in a moment the +buggy was spinning over the glistening, moonlit track of the turnpike.</p> + +<p>When they reached the first street lamps on the edge of town, the old man +peered curiously at the girl by his side.</p> + +<p>"You drive well, young woman," he said slowly. "Who taught you?"</p> + +<p>"Old Peeler."</p> + +<p>"You lived on his place?" he asked quickly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"What's your mother's name?"</p> + +<p>"Lucy."</p> + +<p>"Hm! I thought so."</p> + +<p>"Why, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing," was the gruff answer.</p> + +<p>"Did you—did you know any of my people, sir?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He looked her squarely in the face, smiled and pursed his withered lips:</p> + +<p>"Yes. I happen to be personally acquainted with your grandfather and he was +something of a man in his day."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> +<img src="images/i002.jpg" width="416" height="650" alt=""'You are a maniac to-night.'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'You are a maniac to-night.'"</span> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>A TRAITOR'S RUSE</h3> + + +<p>The old Governor had made a correct guess on the line of action his little +Scalawag successor in high office would take when confronted by the crisis +of the morning.</p> + +<p>The Clansmen had left the two beams projecting through the windows of the +north and south wings of the Capitol. A hangman's noose swung from each +beam's end.</p> + +<p>When His Excellency drove into town next morning and received the news of +the startling events of the night, he ordered a double guard of troops for +his office and another for his house.</p> + +<p>Old Governor Carteret called at ten o'clock and was ushered immediately +into the executive office. No more striking contrast could be imagined +between two men of equal stature. Their weight and height were almost the +same, yet they seemed to belong to different races of men. The Scalawag +official hurried to meet his distinguished caller—a man whose +administration thirty years ago was famous in the annals of the state.</p> + +<p>The acting Governor seemed a pigmy beside his venerable predecessor. The +only prominent feature of the Scalawag's face was his nose. Its size should +have symbolized strength, yet it didn't. It seemed to project straight in +front in a way that looked ridiculous—as if some one had caught it with a +pair of tongs,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> tweaked and pulled it out to an unusual length. It was +elongated but not impressive. His mouth was weak, his chin small and +retreating and his watery ferret eyes never looked any one straight in the +face. The front of his head was bald and sloped backward at an angle. His +hair was worn in long, thin, straight locks which he combed often in a vain +effort to look the typical long-haired Southern gentleman of the old +school.</p> + +<p>His black broadcloth suit with a velvet collar and cuffs fitted his slight +figure to perfection and yet failed to be impressive. The failure was +doubtless due to his curious way of walking about a room. Sometimes +sideways like a crab or a crawfish, and when he sought to be impressive, +straight forward with an obvious jerk and an effort to appear dignified.</p> + +<p>He was the kind of a man an old-fashioned negro, born and bred in the homes +of the aristocratic régime of slavery, would always laugh at. His attempt +to be a gentleman was so obvious a fraud it could deceive no one.</p> + +<p>"I am honored, Governor Carteret, by your call this morning," he cried with +forced politeness. "I need the advice of our wisest men. I appreciate your +coming."</p> + +<p>The old Governor studied the Scalawag for a moment calmly and said:</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>When shown to his seat the older man walked with the unconscious dignity of +a man born to rule, the lines of his patrician face seemed cut from a cameo +in contrast with the rambling nondescript features of the person who walked +with a shuffle beside him. It required no second glance at the clean +ruffled shirt with its tiny gold studs, the black string tie, the polished +boots and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> gold-headed cane to recognize the real gentleman of the old +school. And no man ever looked a second time at his Roman nose and massive +chin and doubted for a moment that he saw a man of power, of iron will and +fierce passions.</p> + +<p>"I have called this morning, Governor," the older man began with sharp +emphasis, "to advise you to revoke at once your proclamation suspending the +<i>writ</i> of <i>habeas corpus</i>. Your act was a blunder—a colossal blunder! We +are not living in the Dark Ages, sir—even if you were elected by a negro +constituency! Your act is four hundred years out of date in the +English-speaking world."</p> + +<p>The Scalawag began his answer by wringing his slippery hands:</p> + +<p>"I realize, Governor Carteret, the gravity of my act. Yet grave dangers +call for grave remedies. You see from the news this morning the condition +of turmoil into which reckless men have plunged the state."</p> + +<p>The old man rose, crossed the room and confronted the Scalawag, his eyes +blazing, his uplifted hand trembling with passion:</p> + +<p>"The breed of men with whom you are fooling have not submitted to such an +act of tyranny from their rulers for the past three hundred years. Your +effort to set the negro up as the ruler of the white race is the act of a +madman. Revoke your order to-day or the men who opened that jail last night +will hang you——"</p> + +<p>The Governor laughed lamely:</p> + +<p>"A cheap bluff, sir, a schoolboy's threat!"</p> + +<p>The older man drew closer:</p> + +<p>"A cheap bluff, eh? Well, when you say your prayers to-night, don't forget +to thank your Maker for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> two things—that He sent a storm yesterday that +made Buffalo creek impassable and that I reached its banks in time!"</p> + +<p>The little Scalawag paled and his voice was scarcely a whisper:</p> + +<p>"Why—why, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That I reached the ford in time to stop a hundred desperate men who were +standing there in the dark waiting for its waters to fall that they might +cross and hang you from that beam's end you call a cheap bluff! That I +stood there in the moonlight with my arm around their leader for nearly an +hour begging, praying, pleading for your damned worthless life! They gave +it to me at last because I asked it. No other man could have saved you. +Your life is mine to-day! But for my solemn promise to those men that you +would revoke that order your body would be swinging at this moment from the +Capitol window—will you make good my promise?"</p> + +<p>"I'll—I'll consider it," was the waning answer.</p> + +<p>"Yes or no?"</p> + +<p>"I'll think it over, Governor Carteret—I'll think it over," the trembling +voice repeated. "I must consult my friends——"</p> + +<p>"I won't take that answer!" the old man thundered in his face. "Revoke that +proclamation here and now, or, by the Lord God, I'll send a message to +those men that'll swing you from the gallows before the sun rises to-morrow +morning!"</p> + +<p>"I've got my troops——"</p> + +<p>"A hell of a lot of troops they are! Where were they last night—the +loafing, drunken cowards? You can't get enough troops in this town to save +you. Revoke that proclamation or take your chances!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old Governor seized his hat and walked calmly toward the door. The +Scalawag trembled, and finally said:</p> + +<p>"I'll take your advice, sir—wait a moment until I write the order."</p> + +<p>The room was still for five minutes, save for the scratch of the Governor's +pen, as he wrote his second famous proclamation, restoring the civil rights +of the people. He signed and sealed the document and handed it to his +waiting guest:</p> + +<p>"Is that satisfactory?"</p> + +<p>The old man adjusted his glasses, read each word carefully, and replied +with dignity:</p> + +<p>"Perfectly—good morning!"</p> + +<p>The white head erect, the visitor left the executive chamber without a +glance at the man he despised.</p> + +<p>The Governor had given his word, signed and sealed his solemn proclamation, +but he proved himself a traitor to the last.</p> + +<p>With the advice of his confederates he made a last desperate effort to gain +his end of holding the leaders of the opposition party in jail by a quick +shift of method. He wired orders to every jailer to hold the men until +warrants were issued for their arrest by one of his negro magistrates in +each county and wired instructions to the clerk of the court to admit none +of them to bail no matter what amount offered.</p> + +<p>The charges on which these warrants were issued were, in the main, +preposterous perjuries by the hirelings of the Governor. There was no +expectation that they would be proven in court. But if they could hold +these prisoners until the election was over the little Scalawag<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> believed +the Klan could be thus intimidated in each district and the negro ticket +triumphantly elected.</p> + +<p>The Governor was explicit in his instructions to the clerk of the court in +the Capital county that under no conceivable circumstances should he accept +bail for the editor of the <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i>.</p> + +<p>The Governor's proclamation was issued at noon and within an hour a deputy +sheriff appeared at Norton's office and served his warrant charging the +preposterous crime of "Treason and Conspiracy" against the state +government.</p> + +<p>Norton's hundred picked men were already lounging in the Court House +Square. When the deputy appeared with his prisoner they quietly closed in +around him and entered the clerk's room in a body. The clerk was dumfounded +at the sudden packing of his place with quiet, sullen looking, armed men. +Their revolvers were in front and the men were nervously fingering the +handles.</p> + +<p>The clerk had been ordered by the Governor under no circumstances to accept +bail, and he had promised with alacrity to obey. But he changed his mind at +the sight of those revolvers. Not a word was spoken by the men and the +silence was oppressive. The frightened official mopped his brow and tried +to leave for a moment to communicate with the Capitol. He found it +impossible to move from his desk. The men were jammed around him in an +impenetrable mass. He looked over the crowd in vain for a friendly face. +Even the deputy who had made the arrest had been jostled out of the room +and couldn't get back.</p> + +<p>The editor looked at the clerk steadily for a moment and quietly asked:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What amount of bail do you require?"</p> + +<p>The officer smiled wanly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, major, it's just a formality with you, sir; a mere nominal sum of $500 +will be all right."</p> + +<p>"Make out your bond," the editor curtly ordered. "My friends here will sign +it."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly, major," was the quick answer. "Have a seat, sir, +while I fill in the blank."</p> + +<p>"I'll stand, thank you," was the quick reply.</p> + +<p>The clerk's pen flew while he made out the forbidden bail which set at +liberty the arch enemy of the Governor. When it was signed and the daring +young leader quietly walked out the door, a cheer from a hundred men rent +the air.</p> + +<p>The shivering clerk cowered in his seat over his desk and pretended to be +very busy. In reality he was breathing a prayer of thanks to God for +sparing his life and registering a solemn vow to quit politics and go back +to farming.</p> + +<p>The editor hurried to his office and sent a message to each district leader +of the Klan to secure bail for the accused men in the same quiet manner.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>THE IRONY OF FATE</h3> + + +<p>His political battle won, Norton turned his face homeward for a struggle in +which victory would not come so easily. He had made up his mind that Cleo +should not remain under his roof another day. How much she really knew or +understood of the events of the night he could only guess. He was sure she +had heard enough of the plans of his men to make a dangerous witness +against him if she should see fit to betray the facts to his enemies.</p> + +<p>Yet he was morally certain that he could trust her with this secret. What +he could not and would not do was to imperil his own life and character by +a daily intimate association with this willful, impudent, smiling young +animal.</p> + +<p>His one fear was the wish of his wife to keep her. In her illness she had +developed a tyranny of love that brooked no interference with her whims. He +had petted and spoiled her until it was well-nigh impossible to change the +situation. The fear of her death was the sword that forever hung over his +head.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 434px;"> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" width="434" height="650" alt=""Sitting astride her back, laughing his loudest."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Sitting astride her back, laughing his loudest."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>He hoped that the girl was lying when she said his wife liked her. Yet it +was not improbable. Her mind was still a child's. She could not think evil +of any one. She loved the young and she loved grace and beauty wherever she +saw it. She loved a beautiful cat, a beautiful dog, and always had taken +pride in a handsome servant. It would be just like her to take a fancy to +Cleo that no argument could shake. He dreaded to put the thing to an +issue—but it had to be done. It was out of the question to tell her the +real truth.</p> + +<p>His heart sank within him as he entered his wife's room. Mammy had gone to +bed suffering with a chill. The doctors had hinted that she was suffering +from an incurable ailment and that her days were numbered. Her death might +occur at any time.</p> + +<p>Cleo was lying flat on a rug, the baby was sitting astride of her back, +laughing his loudest at the funny contortions of her lithe figure. She +would stop every now and then, turn her own laughing eyes on him and he +would scream with joy.</p> + +<p>The little mother was sitting on the floor like a child and laughing at the +scene. In a flash he realized that Cleo had made herself, in the first few +days she had been in his house, its dominant spirit.</p> + +<p>He paused in the doorway sobered by the realization.</p> + +<p>The supple young form on the floor slowly writhed on her back without +disturbing the baby's sturdy hold, his little legs clasping her body tight. +She drew his laughing face to her shoulder, smothering his laughter with +kisses, and suddenly sprang to her feet, the baby astride her neck, and +began galloping around the room.</p> + +<p>"W'oa! January, w'oa, sir!" she cried, galloping slowly at first and then +prancing like a playful horse.</p> + +<p>Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling and red hair flying in waves of +fiery beauty over her exquisite shoulders, every change of attitude a new +picture of graceful abandon, every movement of her body a throb of savage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +music from some strange seductive orchestra hidden in the deep woods!</p> + +<p>Its notes slowly stole over the senses of the man with such alluring power, +that in spite of his annoyance he began to smile.</p> + +<p>The girl stopped, placed the child on the floor, ran to the corner of the +room, dropped on all fours and started slowly toward him, her voice +imitating the deep growl of a bear.</p> + +<p>"Now the bears are going to get him!—Boo-oo-oo."</p> + +<p>The baby screamed with delight. The graceful young she-bear capered around +her victim from side to side, smelling his hands and jumping back, +approaching and retreating, growling and pawing the floor, while with each +movement the child shouted a new note of joy.</p> + +<p>The man, watching, wondered if this marvelous creamy yellow animal could +get into an ungraceful position.</p> + +<p>The keen eyes of the young she-bear saw the boy had worn himself out with +laughter and slowly approached her victim, tumbled his happy flushed little +form over on the rug and devoured him with kisses.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Cleo—that's enough now!" the little mother cried, through her +tears of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Yessum—yessum—I'm just eatin' him up now—I'm done—and he'll be asleep +in two minutes."</p> + +<p>She sprang to her feet, crushing the little form tenderly against her warm, +young bosom, and walked past the man smiling into his face a look of +triumph. The sombre eyes answered with a smile in spite of himself.</p> + +<p>Could any man with red blood in his veins fight successfully a force like +that? He heard the growl of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> Beast within as he stood watching the +scene. The sight of the frail little face of his invalid wife brought him +up against the ugly fact with a sharp pain.</p> + +<p>Yet the moment he tried to broach the subject of discharging Cleo, he +hesitated, stammered and was silent. At last he braced himself with +determination for the task. It was disagreeable, but it had to be done. The +sooner the better.</p> + +<p>"You like this girl, my dear?" he said softly.</p> + +<p>"She's the most wonderful nurse I ever saw—the baby's simply crazy about +her!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see," he said soberly.</p> + +<p>"It's a perfectly marvellous piece of luck that she came the day she did. +Mammy was ready to drop. She's been like a fairy in the nursery from the +moment she entered. The kiddy has done nothing but laugh and shriek with +delight."</p> + +<p>"And you like her personally?"</p> + +<p>"I've just fallen in love with her! She's so strong and young and +beautiful. She picks me up, laughing like a child, and carries me into the +bathroom, carries me back and tucks me in bed as easily as she does the +baby."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, my dear," he interrupted with a firm, hard note in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Sorry—for what?" the blue eyes opened with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Because I don't like her, and her presence here may be very dangerous just +now——"</p> + +<p>"Dangerous—what on earth can you mean?"</p> + +<p>"To begin with that she's a negress——"</p> + +<p>"So's mammy—so's the cook—the man—every servant we've ever had—or will +have——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of the last," the husband broke in with a frown.</p> + +<p>"What's dangerous about the girl, I'd like to know?" his wife demanded.</p> + +<p>"I said, to begin with, she's a negress. That's perhaps the least +objectionable thing about her as a servant. But she has bad blood in her on +her father's side. Old Peeler's as contemptible a scoundrel as I know in +the county——"</p> + +<p>"The girl don't like him—that's why she left home."</p> + +<p>"Did she tell you that?" he asked quizzically.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I'm sorry for her. She wants a good home among decent white +people and I'm not going to give her up. I don't care what you say."</p> + +<p>The husband ignored the finality of this decision and went on with his +argument as though she had not spoken.</p> + +<p>"Old Peeler is not only a low white scoundrel who would marry this girl's +mulatto mother if he dared, but he is trying to break into politics as a +negro champion. He denies it, but he is a henchman of the Governor. I'm in +a fight with this man to the death. There's not room for us both in the +state——"</p> + +<p>"And you think this laughing child cares anything about the Governor or his +dirty politics? Such a thing has never entered her head."</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure of that."</p> + +<p>"You're crazy, Dan."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not so crazy, my dear, that I can't see that this girl's presence +in our house is dangerous. She already knows too much about my +affairs—enough, in fact, to endanger my life if she should turn traitor."</p> + +<p>"But she won't tell, I tell you—she's loyal—I'd trust her with my life, +or yours, or the baby's, without hesitation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> She proved her loyalty to me +and to you last night."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and that's just why she's so dangerous." He spoke slowly, as if +talking to himself. "You can't understand, dear, I am entering now the last +phase of a desperate struggle with the little Scalawag who sits in the +Governor's chair for the mastery of this state and its life. The next two +weeks and this election will decide whether white civilization shall live +or a permanent negroid mongrel government, after the pattern of Haiti and +San Domingo, shall be established. If we submit, we are not worth saving. +We ought to die and our civilization with us! We are not going to submit, +we are not going to die, we are going to win. I want you to help me now by +getting rid of this girl."</p> + +<p>"I won't give her up. There's no sense in it. A man who fought four years +in the war is not afraid of a laughing girl who loves his baby and his +wife! I can't risk a green, incompetent girl in the nursery now. I can't +think of breaking in a new one. I like Cleo. She's a breath of fresh air +when she comes into my room; she's clean and neat; she sings beautifully; +her voice is soft and low and deep; I love her touch when she dresses me; +the baby worships her—is all this nothing to you?"</p> + +<p>"Is my work nothing to you?" he answered soberly.</p> + +<p>"Bah! It's a joke! Your work has nothing to do with this girl. She knows +nothing, cares nothing for politics—it's absurd!"</p> + +<p>"My dear, you must listen to me now——"</p> + +<p>"I won't listen. I'll have my way about my servants. It's none of your +business. Look after your politics and let the nursery alone!"</p> + +<p>"Please be reasonable, my love. I assure you I'm in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> dead earnest. The +danger is a real one, or I wouldn't ask this of you—please——"</p> + +<p>"No—no—no—no!" she fairly shrieked.</p> + +<p>His voice was very quiet when he spoke at last:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to cross you in this, but the girl must leave to-night."</p> + +<p>The tones of his voice and the firm snap of his strong jaw left further +argument out of the question and the little woman played her trump card.</p> + +<p>She sprang to her feet, pale with rage, and gave way to a fit of hysteria. +He attempted to soothe her, in grave alarm over the possible effects on her +health of such a temper.</p> + +<p>With a piercing scream she threw herself across the bed and he bent over +her tenderly:</p> + +<p>"Please, don't act this way!"</p> + +<p>Her only answer was another scream, her little fists opening and closing +like a bird's talons gripping the white counterpane in her trembling +fingers.</p> + +<p>The man stood in helpless misery and sickening fear, bent low and +whispered:</p> + +<p>"Please, please, darling—it's all right—she can stay. I won't say another +word. Don't make yourself ill. Please don't!"</p> + +<p>The sobbing ceased for a moment, and he added:</p> + +<p>"I'll go into the nursery and send her here to put you to bed."</p> + +<p>He turned to the door and met Cleo entering.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jean called me?" she asked with a curious smile playing about her +greenish eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes. She wishes you to put her to bed."</p> + +<p>The girl threw him a look of triumphant tenderness and he knew that she had +heard and understood.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>A NEW WEAPON</h3> + + +<p>From the moment the jail doors opened the Governor felt the chill of +defeat. With his armed guard of fifty thousand "Loyal" white men he hoped +to stem the rising tide of Anglo-Saxon fury. But the hope was faint. There +was no assurance in its warmth. Every leader he had arrested without +warrant and held without bail was now a firebrand in a powder magazine. +Mass meetings, barbecues and parades were scheduled for every day by his +enemies in every county.</p> + +<p>The state was ablaze with wrath from the mountains to the sea. The orators +of the white race spoke with tongues of flame.</p> + +<p>The record of negro misrule under an African Legislature was told with +brutal detail and maddening effects. The state treasury was empty, the +school funds had been squandered, millions in bonds had been voted and +stolen and the thieves had fled the state in terror.</p> + +<p>All this the Governor knew from the first, but he also knew that an +ignorant negro majority would ask no questions and believe no evil of their +allies.</p> + +<p>The adventurers from the North had done their work of alienating the races +with a thoroughness that was nothing short of a miracle. The one man on +earth who had always been his best friend, every negro now held his +bitterest foe. He would consult his old master about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> any subject under the +sun and take his advice against the world except in politics. He would come +to the back door, beg him for a suit of clothes, take it with joyous +thanks, put it on and march straight to the polls and vote against the hand +that gave it.</p> + +<p>He asked no questions as to his own ticket. It was all right if it was +against the white man of the South. The few Scalawags who trained with +negroes to get office didn't count.</p> + +<p>The negro had always despised such trash. The Governor knew his solid black +constituency would vote like sheep, exactly as they were told by their new +teachers.</p> + +<p>But the nightmare that disturbed him now, waking or dreaming, was the fear +that this full negro vote could not be polled. The daring speeches by the +enraged leaders of the white race were inflaming the minds of the people +beyond the bounds of all reason. These leaders had sworn to carry the +election and dared the Governor to show one of his scurvy guards near a +polling place on the day they should cast their ballots.</p> + +<p>The Ku Klux Klan openly defied all authority. Their men paraded the county +roads nightly and ended their parades by lining their horsemen in cavalry +formation, galloping through the towns and striking terror to every denizen +of the crowded negro quarters.</p> + +<p>In vain the Governor issued frantic appeals for the preservation of the +sanctity of the ballot. His speeches in which he made this appeal were +openly hissed.</p> + +<p>The ballot was no longer a sacred thing. The time was in American history +when it was the badge of citizen kingship. At this moment the best men in +the state were disfranchised and hundreds of thousands of negroes, with the +instincts of the savage and the intelligence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> of the child, had been given +the ballot. Never in the history of civilization had the ballot fallen so +low in any republic. The very atmosphere of a polling place was a stench in +the nostrils of decent men.</p> + +<p>The determination of the leaders of the Klan to clear the polls by force if +need be was openly proclaimed before the day of election. The philosophy by +which they justified this stand was simple, and unanswerable, for it was +founded in the eternal verities. Men are not made free by writing a +constitution on a piece of paper. Freedom is inside. A ballot is only a +symbol. That symbol stands for physical force directed by the highest +intelligence. The ballot, therefore, is force—physical force. Back of +every ballot is a bayonet and the red blood of the man who holds it. +Therefore, a minority submits to the verdict of a majority at the polls. If +there is not an intelligent, powerful fighting unit back of the scrap of +paper that falls into a box, there's nothing there and that man's ballot +has no more meaning than if it had been deposited by a trained pig or a +dog.</p> + +<p>On the day of this fated election the little Scalawag Governor sat in the +Capitol, the picture of nervous despair. Since sunrise his office had been +flooded with messages from every quarter of the state begging too late for +troops. Everywhere his henchmen were in a panic. From every quarter the +stories were the same.</p> + +<p>Hundreds of determined, silent white men had crowded the polls, taken their +own time to vote and refused to give an inch of room to the long line of +panic-stricken negroes who looked on helplessly. At five o'clock in the +afternoon less than a hundred blacks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> had voted in the entire township in +which the Capital was located.</p> + +<p>Norton was a candidate for the Legislature on the white ticket, and the +Governor had bent every effort to bring about his defeat. The candidate +against him was a young negro who had been a slave of his father, and now +called himself Andy Norton. Andy had been a house-servant, was exactly the +major's age and they had been playmates before the war. He was endowed with +a stentorian voice and a passion for oratory. He had acquired a reputation +for smartness, was good-natured, loud-mouthed, could tell a story, play the +banjo and amuse a crowd. He had been Norton's body-servant the first year +of the war.</p> + +<p>The Governor relied on Andy to swing a resistless tide of negro votes for +the ticket and sweep the county. Under ordinary conditions, he would have +done it. But before the hurricane of fury that swept the white race on the +day of the election, the voice of Andy was as one crying in the wilderness.</p> + +<p>He had made three speeches to his crowd of helpless black voters who hadn't +been able to vote. The Governor sent him an urgent message to mass his men +and force their way to the ballot box.</p> + +<p>The polling place was under a great oak that grew in the Square beside the +Court House. A space had been roped off to guard the approach to the boxes. +Since sunrise this space had been packed solid with a living wall of white +men. Occasionally a well-known old negro of good character was allowed to +pass through and vote and then the lines closed up in solid ranks.</p> + +<p>One by one a new white man was allowed to take his place in this wall and +gradually he was moved up to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> the tables on which the boxes rested, voted, +and slowly, like the movement of a glacier, the line crowded on in its +endless circle.</p> + +<p>The outer part of this wall of defense which the white race had erected +around the polling place was held throughout the day by the same +men—twenty or thirty big, stolid, dogged countrymen, who said nothing, but +every now and then winked at each other.</p> + +<p>When Andy received the Governor's message he decided to distinguish +himself. It was late in the day, but not too late perhaps to win by a +successful assault. He picked out twenty of his strongest buck negroes, +moved them quietly to a good position near the polls, formed them into a +flying wedge, and, leading the assault in person with a loud good-natured +laugh, he hurled them against the outer line of whites.</p> + +<p>To Andy's surprise the double line opened and yielded to his onset. He had +forced a dozen negroes into the ranks when to his surprise the white walls +suddenly closed on the blacks and held them as in a steel trap.</p> + +<p>And then, quick as a flash, something happened. It was a month before the +negroes found out exactly what it was. They didn't see it, they couldn't +hear it, but they knew it happened. They <i>felt</i> it.</p> + +<p>And the silent swiftness with which it happened was appalling. Every negro +who had penetrated the white wall suddenly leaped into the air with a yell +of terror. The white line opened quickly and to a man the negro wedge broke +and ran for life, each black hand clasped in agony on the same spot.</p> + +<p>Andy's voice rang full and clear above his men's:</p> + +<p>"Goddermighty, what's dat!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dey shot us, man!" screamed a negro.</p> + +<p>The thing was simple, almost childlike in its silliness, but it was +tremendously effective. The white guard in the outer line had each been +armed with a little piece of shining steel three inches long, fixed in a +handle—a plain shoemaker's pegging awl. At a given signal they had wheeled +and thrust these awls into the thick flesh of every negro's thigh.</p> + +<p>The attack was so sudden, so unexpected, and the pain so sharp, so +terrible, for the moment every negro's soul was possessed with a single +idea, how to save his particular skin and do it quickest. All <i>esprit de +corps</i> was gone. It was each for himself and the devil take the hindmost! +Some of them never stopped running until they cleared Buffalo creek, three +miles out of town.</p> + +<p>Andy's ambitions were given a violent turn in a new direction. Before the +polls closed at sundown he appeared at the office of the <i>Eagle and +Phoenix</i> with a broad grin on his face and asked to see the major.</p> + +<p>He entered the editor's room bowing and scraping, his white teeth gleaming.</p> + +<p>Norton laughed and quietly said:</p> + +<p>"Well, Andy?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, major, I des drap roun' ter kinder facilitate ye, sah, on de +'lection, sah."</p> + +<p>"It does look like the tide is turning, Andy."</p> + +<p>"Yassah, hit sho' is turnin', but hit's gotter be a purty quick tide dat +kin turn afore I does, sah."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah! And I drap in, major, ter 'splain ter you dat I'se gwine ter +gently draw outen politics, yassah. I makes up my min' ter hitch up wid de +white folks agin. Brought up by de Nortons, sah, I'se always bin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> a gemman, +an' I can't afford to smut my hands wid de crowd dat I been 'sociating wid. +I'se glad you winnin' dis 'lection, sah, an' I'se glad you gwine ter de +Legislature—anyhow de office gwine ter stay in de Norton fambly—an' I'se +satisfied, sah. I know you gwine ter treat us far an' squar——"</p> + +<p>"If I'm elected I'll try to represent all the people, Andy," the major said +gravely.</p> + +<p>"If you'se 'lected?" Andy laughed. "Lawd, man, you'se dar right now! I kin +des see you settin' in one dem big chairs! I knowed it quick as I feel dat +thing pop fro my backbone des now! Yassah, I done resigned, an' I thought, +major, maybe you get a job 'bout de office or 'bout de house fer er young +likely nigger 'bout my size?"</p> + +<p>The editor smiled:</p> + +<p>"Nothing just now, Andy, but possibly I can find a place for you in a few +days."</p> + +<p>"Thankee, sah. I'll hold off den till you wants me. I'll des pick up er few +odd jobs till you say de word—you won't fergit me?"</p> + +<p>"No. I'll remember."</p> + +<p>"An', major, ef you kin des advance me 'bout er dollar on my wages now, I +kin cheer myself up ter-night wid er good dinner. Dese here loafers done +bust me. I hain't got er nickel lef!"</p> + +<p>The major laughed heartily and "advanced" his rival for Legislative honors +a dollar.</p> + +<p>Andy bowed to the floor:</p> + +<p>"Any time you'se ready, major, des lemme know, sah. You'll fin' me a handy +man 'bout de house, sah."</p> + +<p>"All right, Andy, I may need you soon."</p> + +<p>"Yassah, de sooner de better, sah," he paused in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> door. "Dey gotter get +up soon in de mornin', sah, ter get erhead er us Nortons—yassah, dat dey +is——"</p> + +<p>A message, the first news of the election, cut Andy's gabble short. It +spelled Victory! One after another they came from every direction—north, +south, east and west—each bringing the same magic word—victory! victory! +A state redeemed from negroid corruption! A great state once more in the +hands of the children of the men who created it!</p> + +<p>It had only been necessary to use force to hold the polls from hordes of +ignorant negroes in the densest of the black counties. The white majorities +would be unprecedented. The enthusiasm had reached the pitch of mania in +these counties. They would all break records.</p> + +<p>A few daring men in the black centres of population, where negro rule was +at its worst, had guarded the polls under his direction armed with the +simple device of a shoemaker's awl, and in every case where it had been +used the resulting terror had cleared the place of every negro. In not a +single case where this novel weapon had been suddenly and mysteriously +thrust into a black skin was there an attempt to return to the polls. A +long-suffering people, driven at last to desperation, had met force with +force and wrested a commonwealth from the clutches of the vandals who were +looting and disgracing it.</p> + +<p>Now he would call the little Scalawag to the bar of justice.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>THE WORDS THAT COST</h3> + + +<p>It was after midnight when Norton closed his desk and left for home. +Bonfires were burning in the squares, bands were playing and hundreds of +sober, gray-haired men were marching through the streets, hand in hand with +shouting boys, cheering, cheering, forever cheering! He had made three +speeches from the steps of the <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i> building and the crowds +still stood there yelling his name and cheering. Broad-shouldered, bronzed +men had rushed into his office one by one that night, hugged him and wrung +his hands until they ached. He must have rest. The strain had been terrific +and in the reaction he was pitifully tired.</p> + +<p>The lights were still burning in his wife's room. She was waiting with Cleo +for his return. He had sent her the bulletins as they had come and she knew +the result of the election almost as soon as he. It was something very +unusual that she should remain up so late. The doctor had positively +forbidden it since her last attack.</p> + +<p>"Cleo and I were watching the procession," she exclaimed. "I never saw so +many crazy people since I was born."</p> + +<p>"They've had enough to drive them mad the past two years, God knows," he +answered, as his eye rested on Cleo, who was dressed in an old silk kimono +belonging<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> to his wife, which a friend of her grandfather had sent her from +Japan.</p> + +<p>She saw his look of surprise and said casually:</p> + +<p>"I gave it to Cleo. I never liked the color. Cleo's to stay in the house +hereafter. I've moved her things from the servants' quarters to the little +room in the hall. I want her near me at night. You stay so late sometimes."</p> + +<p>He made no answer, but the keen eyes of the girl saw the silent rage +flashing from his eyes and caught the look of fierce determination as he +squared his shoulders and gazed at her for a moment. She knew that he would +put her out unless she could win his consent. She had made up her mind to +fight and never for a moment did she accept the possibility of defeat.</p> + +<p>He muttered an incoherent answer to his wife, kissed her good night, and +went to his room. He sat down in the moonlight beside the open window, +lighted a cigar and gazed out on the beautiful lawn.</p> + +<p>His soul raged in fury over the blind folly of his wife. If the devil +himself had ruled the world he could not have contrived more skillfully to +throw this dangerous, sensuous young animal in his way. It was horrible! He +felt himself suffocating with the thought of its possibilities! He rose and +paced the floor and sat down again in helpless rage.</p> + +<p>The door softly opened and closed and the girl stood before him in the +white moonlight, her rounded figure plainly showing against the shimmering +kimono as the breeze through the window pressed the delicate silk against +her flesh.</p> + +<p>He turned on her angrily:</p> + +<p>"How dare you?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 423px;"> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="423" height="650" alt=""'How dare you?'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'How dare you?'"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, I haven't done anything, major!" she answered softly. "I just came in +to pick up that basket of trash I forgot this morning"—she spoke in low, +lingering tones.</p> + +<p>He rose, walked in front of her, looked her in the eye and quietly said:</p> + +<p>"You're lying."</p> + +<p>"Why, major——"</p> + +<p>"You know that you are lying. Now get out of this room—and stay out of it, +do you hear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I hear," came the answer that was half a sob.</p> + +<p>"And make up your mind to leave this place to-morrow, or I'll put you out, +if I have to throw you head foremost into the street."</p> + +<p>She took a step backward, shook her head and the mass of tangled red hair +fell from its coil and dropped on her shoulders. Her eyes were watching him +now with dumb passionate yearning.</p> + +<p>"Get out!" he ordered brutally.</p> + +<p>A moment's silence and a low laugh was her answer.</p> + +<p>"Why do you hate me?" she asked the question with a note of triumph.</p> + +<p>"I don't," he replied with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"Then you're afraid of me!"</p> + +<p>"Afraid of you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>He took another step and towered above her, his fists clenched and his +whole being trembled with anger:</p> + +<p>"I'd like to strangle you!"</p> + +<p>She flung back her rounded throat, shook the long waves of hair down her +back and lifted her eyes to his:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do it! There's my throat! I want you to. I wouldn't mind dying that way!"</p> + +<p>He drew a deep breath and turned away.</p> + +<p>With a sob the straight figure suddenly crumpled on the floor, a scarlet +heap in the moonlight. She buried her face in her hands, choked back the +cries, fought for self-control, and then looked up at him through her eyes +half blinded by tears:</p> + +<p>"Oh, what's the use! I won't lie any more. I didn't come in here for the +basket. I came to see you. I came to beg you to let me stay. I watched you +to-night when she told you that I was to sleep in that room there, and I +knew you were going to send me away. Please don't! Please let me stay! I +can do you no harm, major! I'll be wise, humble, obedient. I'll live only +to please you. I haven't a single friend in the world. I hate negroes. I +loathe poor white trash. This is my place, here in your home, among the +birds and flowers, with your baby in my arms. You know that I love him and +that he loves me. I'll work for you as no one else on earth would. My hands +will be quick and my feet swift. I'll be your slave, your dog—you can kick +me, beat me, strangle me, kill me if you like, but don't send me away—I—I +can't help loving you! Please—please don't drive me away."</p> + +<p>The passionate, throbbing voice broke into a sob and she touched his foot +with her hand. He could feel the warmth of the soft, young flesh. He +stooped and drew her to her feet.</p> + +<p>"Come, child," he said with a queer hitch in his voice, "you—you—mustn't +stay here another moment. I'm sorry——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>She clung to his hand with desperate pleading and pressed close to him:</p> + +<p>"But you won't send me away?"</p> + +<p>She could feel him trembling.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, and then against the warning of conscience, reason, judgment +and every instinct of law and self-preservation, he spoke the words that +cost so much:</p> + +<p>"No—I—I—won't send you away!"</p> + +<p>With a sob of gratitude her head sank, the hot lips touched his hand, a +rustle of silk and she was gone.</p> + +<p>And through every hour of the long night, maddened by the consciousness of +her physical nearness—he imagined at times he could hear her breathing in +the next room—he lay awake and fought the Beast for the mastery of life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>MAN TO MAN</h3> + + +<p>Cleo made good her vow of perfect service. In the weeks which followed she +made herself practically indispensable. Her energy was exhaustless, her +strength tireless. She not only kept the baby and the little mother happy, +she watched the lawn and the flowers. The men did no more loafing. The +grass was cut, the hedges trimmed, every dead limb from shrub and tree +removed and the old place began to smile with new life.</p> + +<p>Her work of housekeeper and maid-of-all-work was a marvel of efficiency. No +orders were ever given to her. They were unnecessary. She knew by an +unerring instinct what was needed and anticipated the need.</p> + +<p>And then a thing happened that fixed her place in the house on the firmest +basis.</p> + +<p>The baby had taken a violent cold which quickly developed into pneumonia. +The doctor looked at the little red fever-scorched face and parched lips +with grave silence. He spoke at last with positive conviction:</p> + +<p>"His life depends on a nurse, Norton. All I can do is to give orders. The +nurse must save him."</p> + +<p>With a sob in her voice, Cleo said:</p> + +<p>"Let me—I'll save him. He can't die if it depends on that."</p> + +<p>The doctor turned to the mother.</p> + +<p>"Can you trust her?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Absolutely. She's quick, strong, faithful, careful, and she loves him."</p> + +<p>"You agree, major?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we couldn't do better," he answered gravely, turning away.</p> + +<p>And so the precious life was given into her hands. Norton spent the +mornings in the nursery executing the doctor's orders with clock-like +regularity, while Cleo slept. At noon she quietly entered and took his +place. Her meals were served in the room and she never left it until he +relieved her the next day. The tireless, greenish eyes watched the cradle +with death-like stillness and her keen young ears bent low to catch every +change in the rising and falling of the little breast. Through the long +watches of the night, the quick alert figure with the velvet tread hurried +about the room filling every order with skill and patience.</p> + +<p>At the end of two weeks, the doctor smiled, patted her on the shoulder and +said:</p> + +<p>"You're a great nurse, little girl. You've saved his life."</p> + +<p>Her head was bending low over the cradle, the baby reached up his hand, +caught one of her red curls and lisped faintly:</p> + +<p>"C-l-e-o!"</p> + +<p>Her eyes were shining with tears as she rushed from the room and out on the +lawn to have her cry alone. There could be no question after this of her +position.</p> + +<p>When the new Legislature met in the old Capitol building four months later, +it was in the atmosphere of the crisp clearness that follows the storm. The +thieves and vultures had winged their way to more congenial climes. They +dared not face the investigation of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> saturnalia which the restored +white race would make. The wisest among them fled northward on the night of +the election.</p> + +<p>The Governor couldn't run. His term of office had two years more to be +filled. And shivering in his room alone, shunned as a pariah, he awaited +the assault of his triumphant foes.</p> + +<p>And nothing succeeds like success. The brilliant young editor of the <i>Eagle +and Phoenix</i> was the man of the hour. When he entered the hall of the House +of Representatives on the day the Assembly met, pandemonium broke loose. A +shout rose from the floor that fairly shook the old granite pile. Cheer +after cheer rent the air, echoed and re-echoed through the vaulted arches +of the hall. Men overturned their desks and chairs as they rushed pellmell +to seize his hand. They lifted him on their shoulders and carried him in +procession around the Assembly Chamber, through the corridors and around +the circle of the Rotunda, cheering like madmen, and on through the Senate +Chamber where every white Senator joined the procession and returned to the +other end of the Capitol singing "Dixie" and shouting themselves hoarse.</p> + +<p>He was elected Speaker of the House by his party without a dissenting +voice, and the first words that fell from his lips as he ascended the dais, +gazed over the cheering House, and rapped sharply for order, sounded the +death knell to the hopes of the Governor for a compromise with his enemies. +His voice rang clear and cold as the notes of a bugle:</p> + +<p>"The first business before this House, gentlemen, is the impeachment and +removal from office of the alleged Governor of this state!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span></p> + +<p>Again the long pent feelings of an outraged people passed all bounds. In +vain the tall figure in the chair rapped for order. He had as well tried to +call a cyclone to order by hammering at it with a gavel. Shout after shout, +cheer after cheer, shout and cheer in apparently unending succession!</p> + +<p>They had not only won a great victory and redeemed a state's honor, but +they had found a leader who dared to lead in the work of cleansing and +rebuilding the old commonwealth. It was ten minutes before order could be +restored. And then with merciless precision the Speaker put in motion the +legal machine that was to crush the life out of the little Scalawag who sat +in his room below and listened to the roar of the storm over his head.</p> + +<p>On the day the historic trial opened before the high tribunal of the +Senate, sitting as judges, with the Chief Justice of the state as presiding +officer, the Governor looked in vain for a friendly face among his +accusers. Now that he was down, even the dogs in his own party whom he had +reared and fed, men who had waxed fat on the spoils he had thrown them, +were barking at his heels. They accused him of being the cause of the +party's downfall.</p> + +<p>The Governor had quickly made up his mind to ask no favors of these +wretches. If the blow should fall, he knew to whom he would appeal that it +might be tempered with mercy. The men of his discredited party were of his +own type. His only chance lay in the generosity of a great foe.</p> + +<p>It would be a bitter thing to beg a favor at the hands of the editor who +had hounded him with his merciless pen from the day he had entered office, +but it would be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> easier than an appeal to the ungrateful hounds of his own +kennel who had deserted him in his hour of need.</p> + +<p>The Bill of Impeachment which charged him with high crimes and misdemeanors +against the people whose rights he had sworn to defend was drawn by the +Speaker of the House, and it was a terrible document. It would not only +deprive him of his great office, but strip him of citizenship, and send him +from the Capitol a branded man for life.</p> + +<p>The defense proved weak and the terrific assaults of the Impeachment +managers under Norton's leadership resistless. Step by step the remorseless +prosecutors closed in on the doomed culprit. Each day he sat in his place +beside his counsel in the thronged Senate Chamber and heard his judges vote +with practical unanimity "Guilty" on a new count in the Bill of +Impeachment. The Chief Executive of a million people cowered in his seat +while his accusers told and re-told the story of his crimes and the packed +galleries cheered.</p> + +<p>But one clause of the bill remained to be adjudged—the brand his accusers +proposed to put upon his forehead. His final penalty should be the loss of +citizenship. It was more than the Governor could bear. He begged an +adjournment of the High Court for a conference with his attorneys and it +was granted.</p> + +<p>He immediately sought the Speaker, who made no effort to conceal the +contempt in which he held the trembling petitioner.</p> + +<p>"I've come to you, Major Norton," he began falteringly, "in the darkest +hour of my life. I've come because I know that you are a brave and generous +man. I appeal to your generosity. I've made mistakes in my administration. +But I ask you to remember that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> few men in my place could have done better. +I was set to make bricks without straw. I was told to make water run up +hill and set at naught the law of gravitation.</p> + +<p>"I struck at you personally—yes—but remember my provocation. You made me +the target of your merciless ridicule, wit and invective for two years. It +was more than flesh and blood could bear without a return blow. Put +yourself in my place——"</p> + +<p>"I've tried, Governor," Norton interrupted in kindly tones. "And it's +inconceivable to me that any man born and bred as you have been, among the +best people of the South, a man whose fiery speeches in the Secession +Convention helped to plunge this state into civil war—how you could basely +betray your own flesh and blood in the hour of their sorest need—it's +beyond me! I can't understand it. I've tried to put myself in your place +and I can't."</p> + +<p>The little ferret eyes were dim as he edged toward the tall figure of his +accuser:</p> + +<p>"I'm not asking of you mercy, Major Norton, on the main issue. I understand +the bitterness in the hearts of these men who sit as my judges to-day. I +make no fight to retain the office of Governor, but—major"—his thin voice +broke—"it's too hard to brand me a criminal by depriving me of my +citizenship and the right to vote, and hurl me from the highest office +within the gift of a great people a nameless thing, a man without a +country! Come, sir, even if all you say is true, justice may be tempered +with mercy. Great minds can understand this. You are the representative +to-day of a brave and generous race of men. My life is in ruins—I am at +your feet. I have pride. I had high ambitions——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> + +<p>His voice broke, he paused, and then continued in strained tones:</p> + +<p>"I have loved ones to whom this shame will come as a bolt from the clear +sky. They know nothing of politics. They simply love me. This final +ignominy you would heap on my head may be just from your point of view. But +is it necessary? Can it serve any good purpose? Is it not mere wanton +cruelty?</p> + +<p>"Come now, man to man—our masks are off—my day is done. You are young. +The world is yours. This last blow with which you would crush my spirit is +too cruel! Can you afford an act of such wanton cruelty in the hour of your +triumph? A small man could, yes—but you? I appeal to the best that's in +you, to the spark of God that's in every human soul——"</p> + +<p>Norton was deeply touched, far more than he dreamed any word from the man +he hated could ever stir him. The Governor saw his hesitation and pressed +his cause:</p> + +<p>"I might say many things honestly in justification of my course in +politics; but the time has not come. When passions have cooled and we can +look the stirring events of these years squarely in the face—there'll be +two sides to this question, major, as there are two sides to all questions. +I might say to you that when I saw the frightful blunder I had made in +helping to plunge our country into a fatal war, I tried to make good my +mistake and went to the other extreme. I was ambitious, yes, but we are +confronted with millions of ignorant negroes. What can we do with them? +Slavery had an answer. Democracy now must give the true answer or +perish——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That answer will never be to set these negroes up as rulers over white +men!"</p> + +<p>Norton raised his hand and spoke with bitter emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Even so, in a Democracy with equality as the one fundamental law of life, +what are you going to do with them? I could plead with you that in every +act of my ill-fated administration I was honestly, in the fear of God, +trying to meet and solve this apparently insoluble problem. You are now in +power. What are you going to do with these negroes?"</p> + +<p>"Send them back to the plow first," was the quick answer.</p> + +<p>"All right; when they have bought those farms and their sons and daughters +are rich and cultured—what then?"</p> + +<p>"We'll answer that question, Governor, when the time comes."</p> + +<p>"Remember, major, that you have no answer to it now, and in the pride of +your heart to-day let me suggest that you deal charitably with one who +honestly tried to find the answer when called to rule over both races.</p> + +<p>"I have failed, I grant you. I have made mistakes, I grant you. Won't you +accept my humility in this hour in part atonement for my mistakes? I stand +alone before you, my bitterest and most powerful enemy, because I believe +in the strength and nobility of your character. You are my only hope. I am +before you, broken, crushed, humiliated, deserted, friendless—at your +mercy!"</p> + +<p>The last appeal stirred the soul of the young editor to its depths. He was +surprised and shocked to find<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> the man he had so long ridiculed and hated +so thoroughly, human and appealing in his hour of need.</p> + +<p>He spoke with a kindly deliberation he had never dreamed it possible to use +with this man.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for you, Governor. Your appeal is to me a very eloquent one. It +has opened a new view of your character. I can never again say bitter, +merciless things about you in my paper. You have disarmed me. But as the +leader of my race, in the crisis through which we are passing, I feel that +a great responsibility has been placed on me. Now that we have met, with +bared souls in this solemn hour, let me say that I have learned to like you +better than I ever thought it possible. But I am to-day a judge who must +make his decision, remembering that the lives and liberties of all the +people are in his keeping when he pronounces the sentence of law. A judge +has no right to spare a man who has taken human life because he is sorry +for the prisoner. I have no right, as a leader, to suspend this penalty on +you. Your act in destroying the civil law, arresting men without warrant +and holding them by military force without bail or date of trial, was, in +my judgment, a crime of the highest rank, not merely against me—one +individual whom you happened to hate—but against every man, woman and +child in the state. Unless that crime is punished another man, as daring in +high office, may repeat it in the future. I hold in my hands to-day not +only the lives and liberties of the people you have wronged, but of +generations yet unborn. Now that I have heard you, personally I am sorry +for you, but the law must take its course."</p> + +<p>"You will deprive me of my citizenship?" he asked pathetically.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is my solemn duty. And when it is done no Governor will ever again dare +to repeat your crime."</p> + +<p>Norton turned away and the Governor laid his trembling hand on his arm:</p> + +<p>"Your decision is absolutely final, Major Norton?"</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," was the firm reply.</p> + +<p>The Governor's shoulders drooped lower as he shuffled from the room and his +eyes were fixed on space as he pushed his way through the hostile crowds +that filled the corridors of the Capitol.</p> + +<p>The Court immediately reassembled and the Speaker rose to make his motion +for a vote on the last count in the bill depriving the Chief Executive of +the state of his citizenship.</p> + +<p>The silence was intense. The crowds that packed the lobby, the galleries, +and every inch of the floor of the Senate Chamber expected a fierce speech +of impassioned eloquence from their idolized leader. Every neck was craned +and breath held for his first ringing words.</p> + +<p>To their surprise he began speaking in a low voice choking with emotion and +merely demanded a vote of the Senate on the final clause of the bill, and +the brown eyes of the tall orator had a suspicious look of moisture in +their depths as they rested on the forlorn figure of the little Scalawag. +The crowd caught the spirit of solemnity and of pathos from the speaker's +voice and the vote was taken amid a silence that was painful.</p> + +<p>When the Clerk announced the result and the Chief Justice of the state +declared the office of Governor vacant there was no demonstration. As the +Lieutenant-Governor ascended the dais and took the oath of office, the +Scalawag rose and staggered through the crowd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> that opened with a look of +awed pity as he passed from the chamber.</p> + +<p>Norton stepped to the window behind the President of the Senate and watched +the pathetic figure shuffle down the steps of the Capitol and slowly walk +from the grounds. The sun was shining in the radiant splendor of early +spring. The first flowers were blooming in the hedges by the walk and birds +were chirping, chattering and singing from every tree and shrub. A squirrel +started across the path in front of the drooping figure, stopped, cocked +his little head to one side, looked up and ran to cover. But the man with +drooping shoulders saw nothing. His dim eyes were peering into the shrouded +future.</p> + +<p>Norton was deeply moved.</p> + +<p>"The judgment of posterity may deal kindlier with his life!" he exclaimed. +"Who knows? A politician, a trimmer and a time-server—yes, so we all are +down in our cowardly hearts—I'm sorry that it had to be!"</p> + +<p>He was thinking of a skeleton in his own closet that grinned at him +sometimes now when he least expected it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>THE UNBIDDEN GUEST</h3> + + +<p>The night was a memorable one in Norton's life. The members of the +Legislature and the leaders of his party from every quarter of the state +gave a banquet in his honor in the Hall of the House of Representatives. +Eight hundred guests, the flower and chivalry of the Commonwealth, sat down +at the eighty tables improvised for the occasion.</p> + +<p>Fifty leading men were guests of honor and vied with one another in +acclaiming the brilliant young Speaker the coming statesman of the Nation. +His name was linked with Hamilton, Jefferson, Webster, Clay and Calhoun. He +was the youngest man who had ever been elected Speaker of a Legislative +Assembly in American history and a dazzling career was predicted.</p> + +<p>Even the newly installed Chief Executive, a hold-over from the defeated +party, asked to be given a seat and in a glowing tribute to Norton hailed +him as the next Governor of the state.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely uttered the words when all the guests leaped to their feet +by a common impulse, raised their glasses and shouted:</p> + +<p>"To our next Governor, Daniel Norton!"</p> + +<p>The cheers which followed were not arranged, they were the spontaneous +outburst of genuine admiration<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> by men and women who knew the man and +believed in his power and his worth.</p> + +<p>Norton flushed and his eyes dropped. His daring mind had already leaped the +years. The Governor's chair meant the next step—a seat in the Senate +Chamber of the United States. A quarter of a century and the South would +once more come into her own. He would then be but forty-nine years old. He +would have as good a chance for the Presidency as any other man. His +fathers had been of the stock that created the Nation. His +great-grandfather fought with Washington and Lafayette. His head was +swimming with its visions, while the great Hall rang with his name.</p> + +<p>While the tumult was still at its highest, he lifted his eyes for a moment +over the heads of the throng at the tables below the platform on which the +guests of honor were seated, and his heart suddenly stood still.</p> + +<p>Cleo was standing in the door of the Hall, a haunted look in her dilated +eyes, watching her chance to beckon to him unseen by the crowd.</p> + +<p>He stared at her a moment in blank amazement and turned pale. Something had +happened at his home, and by the expression on her face the message she +bore was one he would never forget.</p> + +<p>As he sat staring blankly, as at a sudden apparition, she disappeared in +the crowd at the door. He looked in vain for her reappearance and was +waiting an opportune moment to leave, when a waiter slipped through the +mass of palms and flowers banked behind his chair by his admirers and +thrust a crumpled note into his hand.</p> + +<p>"The girl said it was important, sir," he explained.</p> + +<p>Norton opened the message and held it under the banquet table as he +hurriedly read in Cleo's hand:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's found out—she's raving. The doctor is there. I must see you quick."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He whispered to the chairman that a message had just been received +announcing the illness of his wife, but he hoped to be able to return in a +few minutes.</p> + +<p>It was known that his wife was an invalid and had often been stricken with +violent attacks of hysteria, and so the banquet proceeded without +interruption. The band was asked to play a stirring piece and he slipped +out as the opening strains burst over the chattering, gay crowd.</p> + +<p>As his tall figure rose from the seat of honor he gazed for an instant over +the sparkling scene, and for the first time in his life knew the meaning of +the word fear. A sickening horror swept his soul and the fire died from +eyes that had a moment before blazed with visions of ambition. He felt the +earth crumbling beneath his feet. He hoped for a way out, but from the +moment he saw Cleo beckoning him over the heads of his guests he knew that +Death had called him in the hour of his triumph.</p> + +<p>He felt his way blindly through the crowd and pushed roughly past a hundred +hands extended to congratulate him. He walked by instinct. He couldn't see. +The mists of eternity seemed suddenly to have swept him beyond the range of +time and sense.</p> + +<p>In the hall he stumbled against Cleo and looked at her in a dazed way.</p> + +<p>"Get your hat," she whispered.</p> + +<p>He returned to the cloakroom, got his hat and hurried back in the same dull +stupor.</p> + +<p>"Come down stairs into the Square," she said quickly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>He followed her without a word, and when they reached the shadows of an oak +below the windows of the Hall, he suddenly roused himself, turned on her +fiercely and demanded:</p> + +<p>"Well, what's happened?"</p> + +<p>The girl was calm now, away from the crowd and guarded by the friendly +night. Her words were cool and touched with the least suggestion of +bravado. She looked at him steadily:</p> + +<p>"I reckon you know——"</p> + +<p>"You mean——" He felt for the tree trunk as if dizzy.</p> + +<p>"Yes. She has found out——"</p> + +<p>"What—how—when?" His words came in gasps of fear.</p> + +<p>"About us——"</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"It was mammy. She was wild with jealousy that I had taken her place and +was allowed to sleep in the house. She got to slipping to the nursery at +night and watching me. She must have seen me one night at your room door +and told her to get rid of me."</p> + +<p>The man suddenly gripped the girl's shoulders, swung her face toward him +and gazed into her shifting eyes, while his breath came in labored gasps:</p> + +<p>"You little yellow devil! Mammy never told that to my wife and you know it; +she would have told me and I would have sent you away. She knows that story +would kill my baby's mother and she'd have cut the tongue out of her own +head sooner than betray me. She has always loved me as her own child—she'd +fight for me and die for me and stand for me against every man, woman and +child on earth!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, she told her," the girl sullenly repeated.</p> + +<p>"Told her what?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"That I was hanging around your room." She paused.</p> + +<p>"Well, go on——"</p> + +<p>"Miss Jean asked me if it was true. I saw that we were caught and I just +confessed the whole thing——"</p> + +<p>The man sprang at her throat, paused, and his hands fell limp by his side. +He gazed at her a moment, and grasped her wrists with cruel force:</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it, you little fiend—you confessed! You were so afraid you +might not be forced to confess that you went out of your way to tell it. +Two months ago I came to my senses and put you out of my life. You +deliberately tried to commit murder to bring me back. You knew that +confession would kill my wife as surely as if you had plunged a knife into +her heart. You know that she has the mind of an innocent child—that she +can think no evil of any one. You've tried to kill her on purpose, +willfully, maliciously, deliberately—and if she dies——"</p> + +<p>Norton's voice choked into an inarticulate groan and the girl smiled +calmly.</p> + +<p>The band in the Hall over their heads ended the music in a triumphant crash +and he listened mechanically to the chairman while he announced the +temporary absence of the guest of honor:</p> + +<p>"And while he is out of the Hall for a few minutes, ladies and gentlemen," +he added facetiously, "we can say a lot of fine things behind his back we +would have blushed to tell him to his face——"</p> + +<p>Another burst of applause and the hum and chatter and laughter came through +the open window.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a cry of anguish, the man turned again on the girl:</p> + +<p>"Why do you stand there grinning at me? Why did you do this fiendish thing? +What have you to say?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing"—there was a ring of exultation in her voice—"I did it because I +had to."</p> + +<p>Norton leaned against the oak, placed his hands on his temples and groaned:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! It's a nightmare——"</p> + +<p>Suddenly he asked:</p> + +<p>"What did she do when you told her?"</p> + +<p>The girl answered with indifference:</p> + +<p>"Screamed, called me a liar, jumped on me like a wild-cat, dug her nails in +my neck and went into hysterics."</p> + +<p>"And you?"</p> + +<p>"I picked her up, carried her to bed and sent for the doctor. As quick as +he came I ran here to tell you."</p> + +<p>The speaker upstairs was again announcing his name as the next Governor and +Senator and the crowd were cheering. He felt the waves of Death roll over +and engulf him. His knees grew weak and in spite of all effort he sank to a +stone that lay against the gnarled trunk of the tree.</p> + +<p>"She may be dead now," he said to himself in a dazed whisper.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so!" the soft voice purred with the slightest suggestion of +a sneer. She bit her lips and actually laughed. It was more than he could +bear. With a sudden leap his hands closed on her throat and forced her +trembling form back into the shadows.</p> + +<p>"May—God—hurl—you—into—everlasting—hell—for—this!" he cried in +anguish and his grip suddenly relaxed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl had not struggled. Her own hand had simply been raised +instinctively and grasped his.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Get out of my sight before I kill you!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid."</p> + +<p>The calm accents maddened him to uncontrollable fury:</p> + +<p>"And if you ever put your foot into my house again or cross my path, I'll +not be responsible for what happens!"</p> + +<p>His face was livid and his fists closed with an unconscious strength that +cut the blood from the palms of his hands.</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid!" she repeated, her voice rising with clear assurance, a +strange smile playing about her full lips.</p> + +<p>"Go!" he said fiercely.</p> + +<p>The girl turned without a word and walked into the bright light that +streamed from the windows of the banquet hall, paused and looked at him, +the white rows of teeth shining with a smile:</p> + +<p>"But I'll see you again!"</p> + +<p>And then, with shouts of triumph mocking his soul, his shoulders drooped, +drunk with the stupor and pain of shame, he walked blindly through the +night to the Judgment Bar of Life—a home where a sobbing wife waited for +his coming.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE JUDGMENT BAR</h3> + + +<p>He paused at the gate. His legs for the moment simply refused to go any +further. A light was burning in his wife's room. Its radiance streaming +against the white fluted columns threw their shadows far out on the lawn.</p> + +<p>The fine old house seemed to slowly melt in the starlight into a solemn +Court of Justice set on the highest hill of the world. Its white boards +were hewn slabs of gleaming marble, its quaint old Colonial door the grand +entrance to the Judgment Hall of Life and Death. And the judge who sat on +the high dais was not the blind figure of tradition, but a blushing little +bride he had led to God's altar four years ago. Her blue eyes were burning +into the depths of his trembling soul.</p> + +<p>His hand gripped the post and he tried to pull himself together, and look +the ugly situation in the face. But it was too sudden. He had repented and +was living a clean life, and the shock was so unexpected, its coming so +unforeseen, the stroke at a moment when his spirits had climbed so high, +the fall was too great. He lay a mangled heap at the foot of a precipice +and could as yet only stretch out lame hands and feel in the dark. He could +see nothing clearly.</p> + +<p>A curious thing flashed through his benumbed mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> as his gaze fascinated +by the light in her room. She had not yet sent for him. He might have +passed a messenger on the other side of the street, or he may have gone to +the Capitol by another way, yet he was somehow morally sure that no word +had as yet been sent. It could mean but one thing—that his wife had +utterly refused to believe the girl's story. This would make the only sane +thing to do almost impossible. If he could humbly confess the truth and beg +for her forgiveness, the cloud might be lifted and her life saved.</p> + +<p>But if she blindly refused to admit the possibility of such a sin, the +crisis was one that sickened him. He would either be compelled to risk her +life with the shock of confession, or lie to her with a shameless passion +that would convince her of his innocence.</p> + +<p>Could he do this? It was doubtful. He had never been a good liar. He had +taken many a whipping as a boy sooner than lie. He had always dared to tell +the truth and had felt a cruel free joy somehow in its consequence. He had +been reserved and silent in his youth when he had sowed his wild oats +before his marriage. He had never been forced to lie about that. No +questions had been asked. He had kept his own counsel and that side of his +life was a sealed book even to his most intimate friends.</p> + +<p>He had never been under the influence of liquor and knew how to be a good +fellow without being a fool. The first big lie of his life he was forced to +act rather than speak when Cleo had entered his life. This lie had not yet +shaped itself into words. And he doubted his ability to carry it off +successfully. To speak the truth simply and plainly had become an ingrained +habit. He trembled at the possibility of being compelled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> to deliberately +and continuously lie to his wife. If he could only tell her the truth—tell +her the hours of anguish he had passed in struggling against the Beast that +at last had won the fight—if he could only make her feel to-night the +pain, the shame, the loathing, the rage that filled his soul, she must +forgive.</p> + +<p>But would she listen? Had the child-mind that had never faced realities the +power to adjust itself to such a tragedy and see life in its wider +relations of sin and sorrow, of repentance and struggle to the achievement +of character? There was but one answer:</p> + +<p>"No. It would kill her. She can't understand——"</p> + +<p>And then despair gripped him, his eyes grew dim and he couldn't think. He +leaned heavily on the gate in a sickening stupor from which his mind slowly +emerged and his fancy began to play pranks with an imagination suddenly +quickened by suffering into extraordinary activity.</p> + +<p>A katydid was crying somewhere over his head and a whip-poor-will broke the +stillness with his weird call that seemed to rise from the ground under his +feet. He was a boy again roaming the fields where stalwart slaves were +working his father's plantation. It was just such a day in early spring +when he had persuaded Andy to run away with him and go swimming in Buffalo +creek. He had caught cold and they both got a whipping that night. He +remembered how Andy had yelled so loud his father had stopped. And how he +had set his little jaws together, refused to cry and received the worst +whipping of his life. He could hear Andy now as he slipped up to him +afterward, grinning and chuckling and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Lordy, man, why didn't ye holler? You don't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> how ter take er whippin' +nohow. He nebber hurt me no mo' dan a flea bitin'!"</p> + +<p>And then his mind leaped the years. Cleo was in his arms that night at old +Peeler's and he was stroking her hair as he would have smoothed the fur of +a frightened kitten. That strange impulse was the beginning—he could see +it now—and it had grown with daily contact, until the contagious animal +magnetism of her nearness became resistless. And now he stood a shivering +coward in the dark, afraid to enter his own house and look his wife in the +face.</p> + +<p>Yes, he was a coward. He acknowledged it with a grim smile—a coward! This +boastful, high-strung, self-poised leader of men! He drew his tall figure +erect and a bitter laugh broke from his lips. He who had led men to death +on battlefields with a smile and a shout! He who had cried in anguish the +day Lee surrendered! He who, in defeat, still indomitable and unconquered, +had fired the souls of his ruined people and led them through riot and +revolution again to victory!—He was a coward now and he knew it, as he +stood there alone in the stillness of the Southern night and looked himself +squarely in the face.</p> + +<p>His heart gave a throb of pity as he recalled the scenes during the war, +when deserters and cowards had been led out in the gray dawn and shot to +death for something they couldn't help.</p> + +<p>It must be a dream. He couldn't realize the truth—grim, hideous and +unthinkable. He had won every fight as the leader of his race against +overwhelming odds. He had subdued the desperate and lawless among his own +men until his word was law. He had rallied the shattered forces of a +defeated people and inspired them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> with enthusiasm. He had overturned the +negroid government in the state though backed by a million bayonets in the +hands of veteran battle-tried soldiers. He had crushed the man who led +these forces, impeached and removed him from office, and hurled him into +merited oblivion, a man without a country. He had made himself the central +figure of the commonwealth. In the dawn of manhood he had lived already a +man's full life. A conquered world at his feet, and yet a little yellow, +red-haired girl of the race he despised, in the supreme hour of triumph had +laid his life in ruins. He had conquered all save the Beast within and he +must die for it—it was only a morbid fancy, yes—yet he felt the chill in +his soul.</p> + +<p>How long he had stood there doubting, fearing, dreaming, he could form no +idea. He was suddenly roused to the consciousness of his position by the +doctor who was hurrying from the house. There was genuine surprise in his +voice as he spoke slowly and in a very low tone.</p> + +<p>Dr. Williams had the habit of slow, quiet speech. He was a privileged +character in the town and the state, with the record of a half century of +practice. A man of wide reading and genuine culture, he concealed a big +heart beneath a brutal way of expressing his thoughts. He said exactly what +he meant with a distinctness that was all the more startling because of his +curious habit of speaking harsh things in tones so softly modulated that +his hearers frequently asked him to repeat his words.</p> + +<p>"I had just started to the banquet hall with a message for you," he said +slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes," Norton answered vaguely.</p> + +<p>"But I see you've come—Cleo told you?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes—she came to the hall——"</p> + +<p>The doctor's slender fingers touched his fine gray beard.</p> + +<p>"Really! She entered that hall to-night? Well, it's a funny world, this. We +spend our time and energy fighting the negro race in front and leave our +back doors open for their women and children to enter and master our life. +I congratulate you as a politician on your victory——"</p> + +<p>Norton lifted his hand as if to ward off a blow:</p> + +<p>"Please! not to-night!"</p> + +<p>The doctor caught the look of agony in the haggard face and suddenly +extended his hand:</p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking of your personal history, my boy. I was—I was thinking +for a moment of the folly of a people—forgive me—I know you need help +to-night. You must pull yourself together before you go in there——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know!" Norton faltered. "You have seen my wife and talked with +her—you can see things clearer than I—tell me what to do!"</p> + +<p>"There's but one thing you can do," was the gentle answer. "Lie to +her—lie—and stick to it. Lie skillfully, carefully, deliberately, and +with such sincerity and conviction she's got to believe you. She wants to +believe you, of course. I know you are guilty——"</p> + +<p>"Let me tell you, doctor——"</p> + +<p>"No, you needn't. It's an old story. The more powerful the man the easier +his conquest when once the female animal of Cleo's race has her chance. +It's enough to make the devil laugh to hear your politicians howl against +social and political equality while this cancer is eating the heart out of +our society. It makes me<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> sick! And she went to your banquet hall to-night! +I'll laugh over it when I'm blue——"</p> + +<p>The doctor paused, laughed softly, and continued:</p> + +<p>"Now listen, Norton. Your wife can't live unless she wills to live. I've +told you this before. The moment she gives up, she dies. It's the iron will +inside her frail body that holds the spirit. If she knows the truth, she +can't face it. She is narrow, conventional, and can't readjust herself——"</p> + +<p>"But doctor, can't she be made to realize that this thing is here a living +fact which the white woman of the South must face? These hundreds of +thousands of a mixed race are not accidents. She must know that this racial +degradation is not merely a thing of to-day, but the heritage of two +hundred years of sin and sorrow!"</p> + +<p>"The older women know this—yes—but not our younger generation, who have +been reared in the fierce defense of slavery we were forced to make before +the war. These things were not to be talked about. No girl reared as your +wife can conceive of the possibility of a decent man falling so low. I warn +you. You can't let her know the truth—and so the only thing you can do is +to lie and stick to it. It's queer advice for a doctor to give an honorable +man, perhaps. But life is full of paradoxes. My advice is medicine. Our +best medicines are the most deadly poisons in nature. I've saved many a +man's life by their use. This happens to be one of the cases where I +prescribe a poison. Put the responsibility on me if you like. My shoulders +are broad. I live close to Nature and the prattle of fools never disturbs +me."</p> + +<p>"Is she still hysterical?" Norton asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No. That's the strange part of it—the thing that frightens me. That's why +I haven't left her side since I was called. Her outburst wasn't hysteria in +the first place. It was rage—the blind unreasoning fury of the woman who +sees her possible rival and wishes to kill her. You'll find her very quiet. +There's a queer, still look in her eyes I don't like. It's the calm before +the storm—a storm that may leave death in its trail——"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't I deny it at first," Norton interrupted, "and then make my plea +to her in an appeal for mercy on an imaginary case? God only knows what +I've gone through—the fight I made——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, my boy, with that young animal playing at your feet in +physical touch with your soul and body in the intimacies of your home, you +never had a chance. But you can't make your wife see this. An angel from +heaven, with tongue of divine eloquence, can make no impression on her if +she once believes you guilty. Don't tell her—and may God have mercy on +your soul to-night!"</p> + +<p>With a pressure on the younger man's arm, the straight white figure of the +old doctor passed through the gate.</p> + +<p>Norton walked quickly to the steps of the spacious, pillared porch, stopped +and turned again into the lawn. He sat down on a rustic seat and tried +desperately to work out what he would say, and always the gray mist of a +fog of despair closed in.</p> + +<p>For the first time in his life he was confronted squarely with the fact +that the whole structure of society is enfolded in a network of +interminable lies. His wife had been reared from the cradle in the +atmosphere of beauty and innocence. She believed in the innocence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> of her +father, her brothers, and every man who moved in her circle. Above all, she +believed in the innocence of her husband. The fact that the negro race had +for two hundred years been stirring the baser passions of her men—that +this degradation of the higher race had been bred into the bone and sinew +of succeeding generations—had never occurred to her childlike mind. How +hopeless the task to tell her now when the tragic story must shatter her +own ideals!</p> + +<p>The very thought brought a cry of agony to his lips:</p> + +<p>"God in heaven—what can I do?"</p> + +<p>He looked helplessly at the stream of light from her window and turned +again toward the cool, friendly darkness.</p> + +<p>The night was one of marvellous stillness. The band was playing again in +his banquet hall at the Capitol. So still was the night he could hear +distinctly the softer strains of the stringed instruments, faint, sweet and +thrilling, as they floated over the sleepy old town. A mocking-bird above +him wakened by the call of melody answered, tenderly at first, and then, +with the crash of cornet and drum, his voice swelled into a flood of +wonderful song.</p> + +<p>With a groan of pain, Norton rose and walked rapidly into the house. His +bird-dog lay on the mat outside the door and sprang forward with a joyous +whine to meet him.</p> + +<p>He stooped and drew the shaggy setter's head against his hot cheek.</p> + +<p>"I need a friend, to-night, Don, old boy!" he said tenderly. And Don +answered with an eloquent wag of his tail and a gentle nudge of his nose.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you were only my judge!—Bah, what's the use——"</p> + +<p>He drew his drooping shoulders erect and entered his wife's room. Her eyes +were shining with peculiar brightness, but otherwise she seemed unusually +calm. She began speaking with quick nervous energy:</p> + +<p>"Dr. Williams told you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I came at once." He answered with an unusually firm and clear +note of strength. His whole being was keyed now to a high tension of alert +decision. He saw that the doctor's way was the only one.</p> + +<p>"I don't ask you, Dan," she went on with increasing excitement and a touch +of scorn in her voice—"I don't ask you to deny this lie. What I want to +know is the motive the little devil had in saying such a thing to me. +Mammy, in her jealousy, merely told me she was hanging around your room too +often. I asked her if it were true. She looked at me a moment and burst +into her lying 'confession.' I could have killed her. I did try to tear her +green eyes out. I knew that you hated her and tried to put her out of the +house, and I thought she had taken this way to get even with you—but it +doesn't seem possible. And then I thought the Governor might have taken +this way to strike you. He knows old Peeler, the low miserable scoundrel, +who is her father. Do you think it possible?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't—know," he stammered, moistening his lips and turning away.</p> + +<p>"Yet it's possible"—she insisted.</p> + +<p>He saw the chance to confirm this impression by a cheap lie—to invent a +story of old Peeler's intimacy with the Governor, of his attempt to marry +Lucy, of his hatred of the policy of the paper, his fear of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> Klan and +of his treacherous, cowardly nature—yet the lie seemed so cheap and +contemptible his lips refused to move. If he were going to carry out the +doctor's orders here was his chance. He struggled to speak and couldn't. +The habit of a life and the fibre of character were too strong. So he did +the fatal thing at the moment of crisis.</p> + +<p>"I don't think that possible," he said.</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, you see, since I rescued old Peeler that night from those boys, he +has been so abjectly grateful I've had to put him out of my office once or +twice, and I'm sure he voted for me for the Legislature against his own +party."</p> + +<p>"He voted for you?" she asked in surprise.</p> + +<p>"He told me so. He may have lied, of course, but I don't think he did."</p> + +<p>"Then what could have been her motive?"</p> + +<p>His teeth were chattering in spite of a desperate effort to think clearly +and speak intelligently. He stared at a picture on the wall and made no +reply.</p> + +<p>"Say something—answer my question!" his wife cried excitedly.</p> + +<p>"I have answered, my dear. I said I don't know. I'm stunned by the whole +thing."</p> + +<p>"You are <i>stunned</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes——"</p> + +<p>"Stunned? You, a strong, innocent man, stunned by a weak contemptible lie +like this from the lips of such a girl—what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that I was naturally shocked to be called out of a banquet at such a +moment by such an accusation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> She actually beckoned to me from the door +over the heads of the guests——"</p> + +<p>The little blue eyes suddenly narrowed and the thin lips grew hard:</p> + +<p>"Cleo called you from the door?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You left the hall to see her there?"</p> + +<p>"No, I went down stairs."</p> + +<p>"Into the Capitol Square?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I couldn't well talk to her before all those guests——"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>The question came like the crack of a pistol. Her voice was high, cold, +metallic, ringing. He saw, when too late, that he had made a fatal mistake. +He stammered, reddened and then turned pale:</p> + +<p>"Why—why—naturally——"</p> + +<p>"If you are innocent—why not?"</p> + +<p>He made a desperate effort to find a place of safety:</p> + +<p>"I thought it wise to go down stairs where I could talk without +interruption——"</p> + +<p>"You—were—afraid," she was speaking each word now with cold, deadly +deliberation, "to take-a-message-from-your-servant-at-the-door-of-a-public +banquet-hall——" her words quickened—"then you suspected her possible +message! There <i>was</i> something between you——"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I beg of you——"</p> + +<p>He turned his head away with a weary gesture.</p> + +<p>She sprang from the side of the bed, leaped to his side, seized him by both +arms and fairly screamed in his face:</p> + +<p>"Look at me, Dan!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p> + +<p>He turned quickly, his haggard eyes stared into hers, and she looked with +slowly dawning horror.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God!" she shrieked. "It's true—it's true—it's true!"</p> + +<p>She sprang back with a shiver of loathing, covered her face with her hands +and staggered to her bed, sobbing hysterically:</p> + +<p>"It's true—it's true—it's true! Have mercy, Lord!—it's true—it's true!" +She fell face downward, her frail figure quivering like a leaf in a storm.</p> + +<p>He rushed to her side, crying in terror:</p> + +<p>"It's not true—it's not true, my dear! Don't believe it. I swear it's a +lie—it's a lie—I tell you!"</p> + +<p>She was crying in sobs of utter anguish.</p> + +<p>He bent low:</p> + +<p>"It's not true, dearest! It's not true, I tell you. You mustn't believe it. +You can't believe it when I swear to you that it's a lie——"</p> + +<p>His head gently touched her slender shoulder.</p> + +<p>She flinched as if scorched by a flame, sprang to her feet, and faced him +with blazing eyes:</p> + +<p>"Don't—you—dare—touch—me——"</p> + +<p>"My dear," he pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Don't speak to me again!"</p> + +<p>"Please——"</p> + +<p>"Get out of this room!"</p> + +<p>He stood rooted to the spot in helpless stupor and she threw her little +body against his with sudden fury, pushing him toward the door. "Get out, I +say!"</p> + +<p>He staggered back helplessly and awkwardly amazed at her strength as she +pushed him into the hall. She stood a moment towering in the white frame of +the door, the picture of an avenging angel to his tormented soul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> Through +teeth chattering with hysterical emotion she cried:</p> + +<p>"Go, you leper! And don't you ever dare to cross this door-sill again—not +even to look on my dead face!"</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, don't!" he gasped, staggering toward her.</p> + +<p>But the door slammed in his face and the bolt suddenly shot into its place.</p> + +<p>He knocked gently and received no answer. An ominous stillness reigned +within. He called again and again without response. He waited patiently for +half an hour and knocked once more. An agony of fear chilled him. She might +be dead. He knelt, pressed his ear close to the keyhole and heard a long, +low, pitiful sob from her bed.</p> + +<p>"Thank God——"</p> + +<p>He rose with sudden determination. She couldn't be left like that. He would +call the doctor back at once, and, what was better still, he would bring +her mother, a wise gray-haired little saint, who rarely volunteered advice +in her daughter's affairs. The door would fly open at her soft command.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>AN OLD STORY</h3> + + +<p>The doctor's house lay beyond the Capitol and in his haste Norton forgot +that a banquet was being held in his honor. He found himself suddenly face +to face with the first of the departing guests as they began to pour +through the gates of the Square.</p> + +<p>He couldn't face these people, turned in his tracks, walked back to the +next block and hurried into an obscure side street by which he could avoid +them.</p> + +<p>The doctor had not retired. He was seated on his porch quietly smoking, as +if he were expecting the call.</p> + +<p>"Well, you've bungled it, I see," he said simply, as he rose and seized his +hat.</p> + +<p>"Yes, she guessed the truth——"</p> + +<p>"Guessed?—hardly." The white head with its shining hair slowly wagged. +"She read it in those haggard eyes. Funny what poor liars your people have +always been! If your father hadn't been fool enough to tell the truth with +such habitual persistence, that office of his would never have been burned +during the war. It's a funny world. It's the fun of it that keeps us alive, +after all."</p> + +<p>"Do the best you can for me, doctor," he interrupted. "I'm going for her +mother."</p> + +<p>"All right," was the cheery answer, "bring her at once. She's a better +doctor than I to-night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton walked swiftly toward a vine-clad cottage that stood beside Governor +Carteret's place. It sat far back on the lawn that was once a part of the +original estate twenty odd years ago. The old Governor during his last +administration had built it for Robert Carteret, a handsome, wayward son, +whom pretty Jennie Pryor had married. It had been a runaway love match. The +old man had not opposed it because of any objection to the charming girl +the boy had fallen in love with. He knew that Robert was a wild, +headstrong, young scapegrace unfit to be the husband of any woman.</p> + +<p>But apparently marriage settled him. For two years after Jean's birth he +lived a decent life and then slipped again into hopelessly dissolute +habits. When Jean was seven years old he was found dead one night under +peculiar circumstances that were never made public. The sweet little woman +who had braved the world's wrath to marry him had never complained, and she +alone (with one other) knew the true secret of his death.</p> + +<p>She had always been supported by a generous allowance from the old Governor +and in his last will the vigorous octogenarian had made her his sole heir.</p> + +<p>Norton had loved this quiet, patient little mother with a great tenderness +since the day of his marriage to her daughter. He had never found her +wanting in sympathy or helpfulness. She rarely left her cottage, but many a +time he had gone to her with his troubles and came away with a light heart +and a clearer insight into the duty that called. Her love and faith in him +was one of the big things in life. In every dream of achievement that had +fired his imagination during the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> stirring days of the past months he had +always seen her face smiling with pride and love.</p> + +<p>It was a bitter task to confess his shame to her—this tender, gracious, +uncomplaining saint, to whom he had always been a hero. He paused a moment +with his hand on the bell of the cottage, and finally rang.</p> + +<p>Standing before her with bowed head he told in a few stammering words the +story of his sin and the sorrow that had overwhelmed him.</p> + +<p>"I swear to you that for the past two months my life has been clean and God +alone knows the anguish of remorse I have suffered. You'll help me, +mother?" he asked pathetically.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my son," she answered simply.</p> + +<p>"You don't hate me?"—the question ended with a catch in his voice that +made it almost inaudible.</p> + +<p>She lifted her white hands to his cheeks, drew the tall form down gently +and pressed his lips:</p> + +<p>"No, my son, I've lived too long. I leave judgment now to God. The unshed +tears I see in your eyes are enough for me."</p> + +<p>"I must see her to-night, mother. Make her see me. I can't endure this."</p> + +<p>"She will see you when I have talked with her," was the slow reply as if to +herself. "I am going to tell her something that I hoped to carry to the +grave. But the time has come and she must know."</p> + +<p>The doctor was strolling on the lawn when they arrived.</p> + +<p>"She didn't wish to see me, my boy," he said with a look of sympathy. "And +I thought it best to humor her. Send for me again if you wish, but I think +the mother is best to-night." Without further words he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> tipped his hat with +a fine old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Carteret and hurried home.</p> + +<p>At the sound of the mother's voice the door was opened, two frail arms +slipped around her neck and a baby was sobbing again on her breast. The +white slender hands tenderly stroked the blonde hair, lips bent low and +kissed the shining head and a cheek rested there while sob after sob shook +the little body. The wise mother spoke no words save the sign language of +love and tenderness, the slow pressure to her heart of the sobbing figure, +kisses, kisses, kisses on her hair and the soothing touch of her hand.</p> + +<p>A long time without a word they thus clung to each other. The sobs ceased +at last.</p> + +<p>"Now tell me, darling, how can I help you?" the gentle voice said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma, I just want to go home to you again and die—that's all."</p> + +<p>"You'd be happier, you think, with me, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—it's clean and pure there. I can't live in this house—the very air I +breathe is foul!"</p> + +<p>"But you can't leave Dan, my child. Your life and his are one in your babe. +God has made this so."</p> + +<p>"He is nothing to me now. He doesn't exist. I don't come of his breed of +men. My father's handsome face—my grandfather's record as the greatest +Governor of the state—are not merely memories to me. I'll return to my +own. And I'll take my child with me. I'll go back where the air is clean, +where men have always been men, not beasts——"</p> + +<p>The mother rose quietly and took from the mantel the dainty morocco-covered +copy of the Bible she had given her daughter the day she left home. She<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +turned its first, pages, put her finger on the sixteenth chapter of the +Book of Genesis, and turned down a leaf:</p> + +<p>"I want you to read this chapter of Genesis which I have marked when you +are yourself, and remember that the sympathy of the world has always been +with the outcast Hagar, and not with the foolish wife who brought a +beautiful girl into her husband's house and then repented of her folly."</p> + +<p>"But a negress! oh, my God, the horror, the shame, the humiliation he has +put on me! I've asked myself a hundred times why I lived a moment, why I +didn't leap from that window and dash my brain out on the ground below—the +beast—the beast!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, but when you are older you will know that all men are beasts."</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all men who are worth while——"</p> + +<p>"How can you say that," the daughter cried with scorn, "and remember my +father and grandfather? No man passes the old Governor to-day without +lifting his hat, and I've seen you sit for hours with my father's picture +in your lap crying over it——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear," was the sweet answer, "these hearts of ours play strange +pranks with us sometimes. You must see Dan to-night and forgive. He will +crawl on his hands and knees to your feet and beg it."</p> + +<p>"I'll never see him or speak to him again!"</p> + +<p>"You must—dear."</p> + +<p>"Never!"</p> + +<p>The mother sat down on the lounge and drew the quivering figure close. Her +face was hidden from the daughter's view when she began to speak and so +the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> death-like pallor was not noticed. The voice was held even by a firm +will:</p> + +<p>"I hoped God might let me go without my having to tell you what I must say +now, dearest"—in spite of her effort there was a break and silence.</p> + +<p>The little hand sought the mother's:</p> + +<p>"You know you can tell me anything, mamma, dear."</p> + +<p>"Your father, my child, was not a great man. He died in what should have +been the glory of young manhood. He achieved nothing. He was just the +spoiled child of a greater man, a child who inherited his father's +brilliant mind, fiery temper and willful passions. I loved him from the +moment we met and in spite of all I know that he loved me with the +strongest, purest love he was capable of giving to any woman. And yet, +dearest, I dare not tell you all I discovered of his wild, reckless life. +The vilest trait of his character was transmitted straight from sire to +son—he would never ask forgiveness of any human being for anything he had +done—that is your grandfather's boast to-day. The old Governor, my child, +was the owner of more than a thousand slaves on his two great plantations. +Many of them he didn't know personally—unless they were beautiful +girls——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, darling, have mercy on me!"—the little fingers tightened +their grip. But the mother's even voice went on remorselessly:</p> + +<p>"Cleo's mother was one of his slaves. You may depend upon it, your +grandfather knows her history. You must remember what slavery meant, dear. +It put into the hands of a master an awful power. It was not necessary for +strong men to use this power. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> humble daughters of slaves vied with one +another to win his favor. Your grandfather was a man of great intellect, of +powerful physique, of fierce, ungovernable passions——"</p> + +<p>"But my father"—gasped the girl wife.</p> + +<p>"Was a handsome, spoiled child, the kind of man for whom women have always +died—but he never possessed the strength to keep himself within the bounds +of decency as did the older man——"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" the daughter broke in desperately.</p> + +<p>"There has always been a secret about your father's death"—the mother +paused and drew a deep breath. "I made the secret. I told the story to save +him from shame in death. He died in the cabin of a mulatto girl he had +played with as a boy—and—the thing that's hardest for me to tell you, +dearest, is that I knew exactly where to find him when he had not returned +at two o'clock that morning——"</p> + +<p>The white head sank lower and rested on the shoulder of the frail young +wife, who slipped her arms about the form of her mother, and neither spoke +for a long while.</p> + +<p>At last the mother began in quiet tones:</p> + +<p>"And this was one of the reasons, my child, why slavery was doomed. The war +was a wicked and awful tragedy. The white motherhood of the South would +have crushed slavery. Before the war began we had six hundred thousand +mulattoes—six hundred thousand reasons why slavery had to die!"</p> + +<p>The fire flashed in the gentle eyes for a moment while she paused, and drew +her soul back from the sorrowful past to the tragedy of to-day:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And so, my darling, you must see your husband and forgive. He isn't bad. +He carried in his blood the inheritance of hundreds of years of lawless +passion. The noble thing about Dan is that he has the strength of character +to rise from this to a higher manhood. You must help him, dearest, to do +this."</p> + +<p>The daughter bent and kissed the gentle lips:</p> + +<p>"Ask him to come here, mother——"</p> + +<p>She found the restless husband pacing the floor of the pillared porch. It +was past two o'clock and the waning moon had risen. His face was ghastly as +his feet stopped their dreary beat at the rustle of her dress. His heart +stood still for a moment until he saw the smiling face.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, Dan," she called softly in the doorway. "She's waiting for +you."</p> + +<p>He sprang to the door, stooped and kissed the silken gray hair and hurried +up the stairs.</p> + +<p>Tears were slowly stealing from the blue eyes as the little wife extended +her frail arms. The man knelt and bowed his head in her lap, unable to +speak at first. With an effort he mastered his voice:</p> + +<p>"Say that you forgive me!"</p> + +<p>The blonde head sank until it touched the brown:</p> + +<p>"I forgive you—but, oh, Dan, dear, I don't want to live any more now——"</p> + +<p>"Don't say that!" he pleaded desperately.</p> + +<p>"And I've wanted to live so madly, so desperately—but now—I'm afraid I +can't."</p> + +<p>"You can—you must! You have forgiven me. I'll prove my love to you by a +life of such devotion I'll make you forget! All I ask is the chance to +atone and make you happy. You must live because I ask it, dear! It's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> the +only way you can give me a chance. And the boy—dearest—you must live to +teach him."</p> + +<p>She nodded her head and choked back a sob.</p> + +<p>When the first faint light of the dawn of a glorious spring morning began +to tinge the eastern sky he was still holding her hands and begging her to +live.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE FIGHT FOR LIFE</h3> + + +<p>The little wife made a brave fight. For a week there was no sign of a +breakdown save an unnatural brightness of the eyes that told the story of +struggle within. He gave himself to the effort to help her win. He spent +but an hour at the Capitol, left a Speaker <i>pro tem</i> in the chair, hurried +to his office, gave his orders and by eleven o'clock he was at home, +talking, laughing, and planning a day's work that would interest her and +bring back the flush to her pale cheeks.</p> + +<p>She had responded to his increasing tenderness and devotion with pathetic +eagerness. At the beginning of the second week Doctor Williams gave him +hope:</p> + +<p>"It looks to me, my boy," he said thoughtfully, "that I'm seeing a miracle. +I think she's not only going to survive the shock, but, what's more +remarkable, she's going to recover her health again. The mind's the source +of health and power. We give medicines, of course, but the thought that +heals the soul will reach the body. Bah!—the body is the soul anyhow, for +all our fine-spun theories, and the mind is only one of the ways through +which we reach it——"</p> + +<p>"You really think she may be well again?" Norton asked with boyish +eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you can reconcile her mind to this thing, she'll not only live, +she will be born again into a more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> vigorous life. Why not? The preachers +have often called me a godless rationalist. But I go them one better when +they preach the miracle of a second, or spiritual birth. I believe in the +possibility of many births for the human soul and the readjustment of these +bodies of ours to the new spirits thus born. If you can tide her over the +next three weeks without a breakdown, she will get well."</p> + +<p>The husband's eyes flashed:</p> + +<p>"If it depends on her mental attitude, I'll make her live and grow strong. +I'll give her my body and soul."</p> + +<p>"There are just two dangers——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"The first mental—a sudden collapse of the will with which she's making +this fight under a reaction to the memories of our system of educated +ignorance, which we call girlish innocence. This may come at a moment when +the consciousness of these 'ideals' may overwhelm her imagination and cause +a collapse——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," he replied thoughtfully. "I'll guard that."</p> + +<p>"The other is the big physical enigma——"</p> + +<p>"You mean?"</p> + +<p>"The possible reopening of that curious abscess in her throat."</p> + +<p>"But the specialist assured us it would never reappear——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he knows just as much about it as you or I. It is one of the few +cases of its kind so far recorded in the science of medicine. When the baby +was born, the drawing of the mother's neck in pain pressed a bone of the +spinal column into the flesh beside the jugular vein. Your specialist never +dared to operate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> for a thorough removal of the trouble for fear he would +sever the vein——"</p> + +<p>"And if the old wound reopens it will reach the jugular vein?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well—it—won't happen!" he answered fiercely. "It can't happen now——"</p> + +<p>"I don't think it will myself, if you can keep at its highest tension the +desire to live. That's the magic thing that works the miracle of life in +such cases. It makes food digest, sends red blood to the tips of the +slenderest finger and builds up the weak places. Don't forget this, my boy. +Make her love life, desperately and passionately, until the will to live +dominates both soul and body."</p> + +<p>"I'll do it," was the firm answer, as he grasped the doctor's outstretched +hand in parting.</p> + +<p>He withdrew completely from his political work. A Speaker <i>pro tem</i> +presided daily over the deliberations of the House, and an assistant editor +took charge of the paper.</p> + +<p>The wife gently urged him to give part of his time to his work again.</p> + +<p>"No," he responded firmly and gayly. "The doctor says you have a chance to +get well. I'd rather see the roses in your cheeks again than be the +President of the United States."</p> + +<p>She drew his head down and clung to him with desperate tenderness.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>CLEO'S SILENCE</h3> + + +<p>For two weeks the wife held her own and the doctor grew more confident each +day. When Norton began to feel sure the big danger was past his mind became +alert once more to the existence of Cleo. He began to wonder why she had +not made an effort to see or communicate with him.</p> + +<p>She had apparently vanished from the face of the earth. In spite of his +effort to minimize the importance of this fact, her silence gradually grew +in sinister significance. What did it mean? What was her active brain and +vital personality up to? That it boded no good to his life and the life of +those he loved he couldn't doubt for a moment. He sent a reporter on a +secret mission to Peeler's house to find if she were there.</p> + +<p>He returned in three hours and made his report.</p> + +<p>"She's at Peeler's, sir," the young man said with a smile.</p> + +<p>"You allowed no one to learn the real reason of your visit, as I told you?"</p> + +<p>"They never dreamed it. I interviewed old Peeler on the revolution in +politics and its effects on the poor whites of the state——"</p> + +<p>"You saw her?"</p> + +<p>"She seemed to be all over the place at the same time, singing, laughing +and perfectly happy."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Run your interview to-morrow, and keep this visit a profound secret +between us."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>The reporter tipped his hat and was gone. Why she was apparently happy and +contented in surroundings she had grown to loathe was another puzzle. +Through every hour of the day, down in the subconscious part of his mind, +he was at work on this surprising fact. The longer he thought of it the +less he understood it. That she would ever content herself with the dreary +existence of old Peeler's farm after her experiences in the town and in his +home was preposterous.</p> + +<p>That she was smiling and happy under such conditions was uncanny, and the +picture of her shining teeth and the sound of her deep voice singing as she +walked through the cheap, sordid surroundings of that drab farmhouse +haunted his mind with strange fear.</p> + +<p>She was getting ready to strike him in the dark. Just how the blow would +fall he couldn't guess.</p> + +<p>The most obvious thing for her to do would be to carry her story to his +political enemies and end his career at a stroke. Yet somehow, for the life +of him he couldn't picture her choosing that method of revenge. She had not +left him in a temper. The rage and curses had all been his. She had never +for a moment lost her self-control. The last picture that burned into his +soul was the curious smile with which she had spoken her parting words:</p> + +<p>"But I'll see you again!"</p> + +<p>Beyond a doubt some clean-cut plan of action was in her mind when she +uttered that sentence. The one question now was—"what did she mean?"</p> + +<p>There was one thought that kept popping into his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> head, but it was too +hideous for a moment's belief. He stamped on it as he would a snake and +hurried on to other possibilities. There was but one thing he could do and +that was to await with increasing dread her first move.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE LARGER VISION</h3> + + +<p>His mind had just settled into this attitude of alert watchfulness toward +Cleo when the first danger the doctor dreaded for his wife began to take +shape.</p> + +<p>The feverish brightness in her eyes grew dimmer and her movements less +vigorous. The dreaded reaction had come and the taut strings of weakened +nerves could bear the strain no longer.</p> + +<p>With a cry of despair she threw herself into his arms:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dan, dear, it's no use! I've tried—I've tried so hard—but I can't do +it—I just don't want to live any more!"</p> + +<p>He put his hands over the trembling, thin lips:</p> + +<p>"Hush, dearest, you mustn't say that—it's just a minute's reaction. You're +blue this morning, that's all. It's the weather—a dreary foggy day. The +sun will be shining again to-morrow. It's shining now behind the mists if +we only remember it. The trees are bare, but their buds are swelling and +these days of cold and fog and rain must come to make them burst in glory. +Come, let me put your shawl around you and I'll show you how the flowers +have pushed up in the sheltered places the past week."</p> + +<p>He drew the hands, limp and cold, from his neck, picked up her shawl, +tenderly placed it about her shoulders,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> lifted her in his strong arms, and +carried her to the old rose garden behind the house.</p> + +<p>Don sniffed his leg, and looked up into his face with surprise at the +unexpected frolic. He leaped into the air, barked softly and ran in front +to show the way.</p> + +<p>"You see, old Don knows the sun is shining behind the clouds, dear!"</p> + +<p>She made no answer. The blonde head drooped limply against his breast. He +found a seat on the south side of the greenhouse on an old rustic bench his +father had built of cedar when he was a boy.</p> + +<p>"There," he said cheerfully, as he smoothed her dress and drew her close by +his side. "You can feel the warmth of the sun here reflected from the +glass. The violets are already blooming along the walks. The jonquils are +all gone, and the rose bushes have begun to bud. You mustn't talk about +giving up. We haven't lived yet."</p> + +<p>"But I'm tired, Dan, tired——"</p> + +<p>"It's just for a moment, remember, my love. You'll feel differently +to-morrow. The world is always beautiful if we only have eyes to see and +ears to hear. Watch that smoke curling straight up from the chimney! That +means the clouds are already lifting and the sun will burst through them +this afternoon. You mustn't brood, dearest. You must forget the misery that +has darkened our world for a moment and remember that it's only the dawn of +a new life for us both. We are just boy and girl yet. There's nothing +impossible. I'm going to prove to you that my love is the deathless thing +in me—the thing that links me to God."</p> + +<p>"You really love me so?" she asked softly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Give me a chance to prove it. That's all I ask. Men sometimes wait until +they're past forty before they begin to sow their wild oats. I am only +twenty-five now. This tragic sin and shame has redeemed life. It's yours +forever—you must believe me when I say this, dearest——"</p> + +<p>"I try," she broke in wearily. "I try, Dan, but it's hard to believe +anything now—oh, so hard——"</p> + +<p>"But can't you understand, my love, how I have been headstrong and selfish +before the shock of my fall brought me to my senses? And that the terror of +losing you has taught me how deep and eternal the roots of our love have +struck and this knowledge led me into the consciousness of a larger and +more wonderful life—can't—can't you understand this, dearest?"</p> + +<p>His voice sank to the lowest reverent whisper as he ceased to speak. She +stroked his hand with a pathetic little gesture of tenderness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe you," she said with a far-away look in her eyes. "I know +that I can trust you now implicitly, and what I can't understand is +that—feeling this so clearly—still I have no interest in life. Something +has snapped inside of me. Life doesn't seem worth the struggle any +longer——"</p> + +<p>"But it is, dear! Life is always good, always beautiful, and always worth +the struggle. We've but to lift our eyes and see. Sin is only our stumbling +in the dark as we grope toward the light. I'm going to be a humbler and +better man. I am no longer proud and vain. I've a larger and sweeter +vision. I feel my kinship to the weak and the erring. Alone in the night my +soul has entered into the fellowship of the great Brotherhood through the +gates of suffering. You must know this,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> Jean—you know that it's true as I +thus lay my heart's last secret bare to you to-day.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dan," she sighed wearily, "but I'm just tired. I don't seem to +recognize anything I used to know. I look at the baby and he don't seem to +be mine. I look at you and feel that you're a stranger. I look at my room, +the lawn, the street, the garden—no matter where, and I'm dazed. I feel +that I've lost my way. I don't know how to live any more."</p> + +<p>For an hour he held her hand and pleaded with all the eloquence of his love +that she would let him teach her again, and all she could do was to come +back forever in the narrow circle her mind had beaten. She was tired and +life no longer seemed worth while!</p> + +<p>He kissed the drooping eyelids at last and laughed a willful, daring laugh +as he gathered her in his arms and walked slowly back into the house.</p> + +<p>"You've got to live, my own! I'll show you how! I'll breathe my fierce +desire into your soul and call you back even from the dead!"</p> + +<p>Yet in spite of all she drooped and weakened daily, and at the end of a +fortnight began to complain of a feeling of uneasiness in her throat.</p> + +<p>The old doctor said nothing when she made this announcement. He drew his +beetling eyebrows low and walked out on the lawn.</p> + +<p>Pale and haggard, Norton followed him.</p> + +<p>"Well, doctor?" he asked queerly.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing to do. Get her away from here at once, to the most +beautiful spot you can find, high altitude with pure, stimulating air. The +change may help her. That's all I can say"—he paused, laid his hand on the +husband's arm and went on earnestly—"and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> if you haven't discussed that +affair with her, you'd better try it. Tear the old wound open, go to the +bottom of it, find the thing that's festering there and root it out if you +can—the thing that's caused this break."</p> + +<p>The end of another week found them in Asheville, North Carolina.</p> + +<p>The wonderful views of purple hills and turquoise sky stretching away into +the infinite thrilled the heart of the little invalid.</p> + +<p>It was her first trip to the mountains. She never tired the first two days +of sitting in the big sun-parlor beside the open fire logs and gazing over +the valleys and watching the fleet clouds with their marvelous coloring. +The air was too chill in these early days of spring for her to feel +comfortable outside. But a great longing began to possess her to climb the +mountains and feel their beauty at closer range.</p> + +<p>She sat by his side in her room and held his hand while they watched the +glory of the first cloud-flecked mountain sunset. The river lay a crooked +silver ribbon in the deepening shadows of the valley, while the sky +stretched its dazzling scarlet canopy high in heaven above it. The scarlet +slowly turned to gold, and then to deepening purple and with each change +revealed new beauty to the enraptured eye.</p> + +<p>She caught her breath and cried at last:</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is a beautiful world, Dan, dear—and I wish I could live!"</p> + +<p>He laughed for joy:</p> + +<p>"Then you shall, dearest! You shall, of course you shall!"</p> + +<p>"I want you to take me over every one of those wonderful purple hills!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I will!"</p> + +<p>"I dream as I sit and look at them that God lives somewhere in one of those +deep shadows behind a dazzling cloud, and that if we only drive along those +ragged cliffs among them we'd come face to face with Him some day——"</p> + +<p>He looked at her keenly. There was again that unnatural brightness in her +eyes which he didn't like and yet he took courage. The day was a glorious +one in the calendar. Hope had dawned in her heart.</p> + +<p>"The first warm day we'll go, dear," he cried with the enthusiasm of a boy, +"and take mammy and the kid with us, too, if you say so——"</p> + +<p>"No, I want just you, Dan. The long ride might tire the baby, and I might +wish to stay up there all night. I shall never grow tired of those hills."</p> + +<p>"It's sweet to hear you talk like that," he cried with a smile.</p> + +<p>He selected a gentle horse for their use and five days later, when the sun +rose with unusual warmth, they took their first mountain drive.</p> + +<p>Along the banks of crystal brooks that dashed their sparkling waters over +the rocks, up and up winding, narrow roads until the town became a mottled +white spot in the valley below, and higher still until the shining clouds +they had seen from the valley rolled silently into their faces, melting +into the gray mists of fog!</p> + +<p>In the midst of one of these clouds, the little wife leaned close and +whispered:</p> + +<p>"We're in heaven now, Dan—we're passing through the opal gates! I +shouldn't be a bit surprised to see Him at any moment up here——"</p> + +<p>A lump suddenly rose in his throat. Her voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> sounded unreal. He bent +close and saw the strange bright light again in her eyes. And the awful +thought slowly shaped itself that the light he saw was the shining image of +the angel of Death reflected there.</p> + +<p>He tried to laugh off his morbid fancy now that she had begun to find the +world so beautiful, but the idea haunted him with increasing terror. He +couldn't shake off the impression.</p> + +<p>An hour later he asked abruptly:</p> + +<p>"You have felt no return of the pain in your throat, dear?"</p> + +<p>"Just a little last night, but not to-day—I've been happy to-day."</p> + +<p>He made up his mind to telegraph to New York at once for the specialist to +examine her throat.</p> + +<p>The fine weather continued unbroken. Every day for a week she sat by his +side and drifted over sunlit valleys, lingered beside beautiful waters and +climbed a new peak to bathe in sun-kissed clouds. On the top of one of +these peaks they found a farmhouse where lodgers were allowed for the +night. They stayed to see the sunrise next morning. Mammy would not worry, +they had told her they might spend the night on these mountain trips.</p> + +<p>The farmer called them in time—just as the first birds were waking in the +trees by their window.</p> + +<p>It was a climb of only two hundred yards to reach the top of a great +boulder that gave an entrancing view in four directions. To the west lay +the still sleeping town of Asheville half hidden among its hills and trees. +Eastward towered the giant peaks of the Blue Ridge, over whose ragged +crests the sun was climbing.</p> + +<p>The young husband took the light form in his strong<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> arms and carried her +to the summit. He placed his coat on the rocky ledge, seated her on it, and +slipped his arm around the slim waist. There in silence they watched the +changing glory of the sky and saw the shadows wake and flee from the +valleys at the kiss of the sun.</p> + +<p>He felt the moment had come that he might say some things he had waited +with patience to speak:</p> + +<p>"You are sure, dear, that you have utterly forgiven the great wrong I did +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Dan," she answered simply, "why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"I just want to be sure, my Jean," he said tenderly, "that there's not a +single dark corner of your heart in which the old shadows lurk. I want to +drive them all out with my love just as we see the sun now lighting with +glory every nook and corner of the world. You are sure?"</p> + +<p>The thin lips quivered uncertainly and her blue eyes wavered as he searched +their depths.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing, Dan, that I'll never quite face, I think"—she paused +and turned away.</p> + +<p>"What, dear?"</p> + +<p>"How any man who had ever bent over a baby's cradle with the tenderness and +love I've seen in your face for Tom, could forget the mother who gave the +life at his command!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't forget, dearest," he said sadly. "I fought as a wounded man, +alone and unarmed, fights a beast in the jungle. With her sweet spiritual +ideal of love a sheltered, innocent woman can't remember that man is still +an animal, with tooth and claw and unbridled passions, that when put to the +test his religion and his civilization often are only a thin veneer, that +if he becomes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> a civilized human being in his relations to women it is not +by inheritance, for he is yet in the zoölogical period of development—but +that it is by the divine achievement of character through struggle. Try, +dearest, if you can, to imagine such a struggle. This primeval man, in the +shadows with desires inflamed by hunger, meets this free primeval woman who +is unafraid, who laughs at the laws of Society because she has nothing to +lose. Both are for the moment animals pure and simple. The universal in him +finds its counterpart in the universal in her. And whether she be fair or +dark, her face, her form, her body, her desires are his—and, above all, +she is near—and in that moment with a nearness that overwhelms by its +enfolding animal magnetism all powers of the mind to think or reflect. Two +such beings are atoms tossed by a storm of forces beyond their control. A +man of refinement wakes from such a crash of elemental powers dazed and +humiliated. Your lips can speak no word as vile, no curse as bitter as I +have hurled against myself——"</p> + +<p>The voice broke and he was silent. A little hand pressed his, and her words +were the merest tender whisper as she leaned close:</p> + +<p>"I've forgiven you, my love, and I'm going to let you teach me again to +live. I'll be a very docile little scholar in your school. But you know I +can't forget in a moment the greatest single hour that is given a woman to +know—the hour she feels the breath of her first born on her breast. It's +the memory of that hour that hurts. I won't try to deceive you. I'll get +over it in the years to come if God sends them——"</p> + +<p>"He will send them—he will send them!" the man broke in with desperate +emotion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>Both were silent for several minutes and a smile began to play about the +blue eyes when she spoke at last:</p> + +<p>"You remember how angry you were that morning when you found a doctor and a +nurse in charge of your home? And the great fear that gripped your heart at +the first mad cry of pain I gave? I laughed at myself the next moment. And +then how I found your hand and wouldn't let you go. The doctor stormed and +ordered you out, and I just held on and shook my head, and you stayed. And +when the doctor turned his back I whispered in your ear:</p> + +<p>"''You won't leave me, Dan, darling, for a single moment—promise me—swear +it!'</p> + +<p>"And you answered:</p> + +<p>"'Yes, I swear it, honey—but you must be very brave—braver than I am, you +know'——</p> + +<p>"And you begged me to take an anesthetic and I wouldn't, like a little +fool. I wanted to know all and feel all if it killed me. And the anguish of +your face became so terrible, dear—I was sorrier for you than for myself. +And when I saw your lips murmuring in an agony of prayer, I somehow didn't +mind it then——"</p> + +<p>She paused, looked far out over the hills and continued:</p> + +<p>"What a funny cry he gave—that first one—not a real baby cry—just a +funny little grunt like a good-natured pig! And how awfully disappointed +you were at the shapeless bundle of red flesh that hardly looked human! But +I could see the lines of your dear face in his, I knew that he would be +even handsomer than his big, brave father and pressed him close and laughed +for joy——"</p> + +<p>She stopped and sighed:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You see, Dan, what I couldn't understand is how any man who has felt the +pain and the glory of this, with his hand clasped in the hand of the woman +he loves, their two souls mirrored in that first pair of mysterious little +eyes God sent from eternity—how he could forget the tie that binds——"</p> + +<p>He made no effort to interrupt her until the last bitter thought that had +been rankling in her heart was out. He was looking thoughtfully over the +valley. An eagle poised above the field in the foreground, darted to the +stubble with lightning swiftness and rose with a fluttering brown quail in +his talons. His shrill cry of triumph rang pitilessly in the stillness of +the heights.</p> + +<p>The little figure gave an unconscious shiver and she added in low tones:</p> + +<p>"I'm never going to speak of this nameless thing again, Dan, but you asked +me this morning and I've told you what was in my heart. I just couldn't +understand how you could forget——"</p> + +<p>"Only a beast could, dearest," he answered with a curl of the lip. "I'm +something more than that now, taught by the bitterness of experience. +You're just a sweet, innocent girl who has never looked the world as it is +in the face. Reared as you were, you can't understand that there's a +difference as deep as the gulf between heaven and hell, in the divine love +that binds my soul and body and life to you and the sudden passing of a +storm of passion. Won't you try to remember this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, I will——"</p> + +<p>She looked into his eyes with a smile of tenderness:</p> + +<p>"A curious change is coming over you, Dan. I can begin to see it. There +used to be a line of cruelty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> sometimes about your mouth and a flash of it +in your eyes. They're gone. There's something strong and tender, wise and +sweet, in their place. If I were an artist I could paint it but I can't +just tell you what it is. I used to think the cruel thing I saw in you was +the memory of the war. Your eyes saw so much of blood and death and pain +and cruelty——"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was," he said slowly. "War does make men cruel—unconsciously +cruel. We lose all sense of the value of human life——"</p> + +<p>"No, it wasn't that," she protested, "it was the other +thing—the—the—Beast you've been talking about. It's not there any more, +Dan—and I'm going to be happy now. I know it, dear——"</p> + +<p>He bent and kissed the slender fingers.</p> + +<p>"If this old throat of mine just won't bother me again," she added.</p> + +<p>He looked at her and turned pale:</p> + +<p>"It's bothering you this morning?"</p> + +<p>She lifted the delicately shaped head and touched her neck:</p> + +<p>"Not much pain, but a sense of fullness. I feel as if I'm going to choke +sometimes."</p> + +<p>He rose abruptly, a great fear in his heart:</p> + +<p>"We'll go back to town at once. The doctor should arrive at three from New +York."</p> + +<p>"Let's not hurry," she cried smiling. "I'm happy now. You're my old +sweetheart again and I'm on a new honeymoon——"</p> + +<p>He gazed at the white slender throat. She was looking unusually well. He +wondered if this were a trick of the enemy to throw him off his guard. He +wondered what was happening in those tiny cells behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> the smooth round +lines of the beautiful neck. It made him sick and faint to think of the +possibility of another attack—just when the fight was over—just when she +had begun to smile and find life sweet again! His soul rose in fierce +rebellion. It was too horrible for belief. He simply wouldn't believe it!</p> + +<p>"All right!" he exclaimed with decision. "We'll stay here till two o'clock, +anyhow. We can drive back in three hours. The train will be late—it always +is."</p> + +<p>Through the long hours of a wonderful spring morning they basked in the sun +side by side on a bed of leaves he piled in a sheltered spot on the +mountain side. They were boy and girl again. The shadows had lifted and the +world was radiant with new glory. They talked of the future and the life of +perfect mutual faith and love that should be theirs.</p> + +<p>And each moment closer came the soft footfall of an unseen angel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE OPAL GATES</h3> + + +<p>The doctor was waiting at the hotel, his keen eyes very serious. He had +guessed the sinister meaning of the summons. He was an unusually brusque +man—almost rude in his words. He greeted Norton with friendly sympathy and +smiled at the radiant face of the wife.</p> + +<p>"Well, little mother," he said with grave humor, "we have more trouble. But +you're brave and patient. It's a joy to work for you."</p> + +<p>"And now," she responded gayly, "you've got to finish this thing, doctor. I +don't want any more half-way operations. I'm going to get well this time. +I'm happy and I'm going to be strong again."</p> + +<p>"Good, we'll get at it right away. I knew you'd feel that way and so I +brought with me a great surgeon, the most skillful man I know in New York. +I've told him of your case, a very unusual one, and he is going to help +me."</p> + +<p>The little mouth smiled bravely:</p> + +<p>"I'll be ready for the examination in half an hour——"</p> + +<p>When the doctors emerged from her room the sun had set behind the dark blue +hills and Norton was waiting on the balcony for their report.</p> + +<p>The specialist walked slowly to where he was standing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> He couldn't move +from his tracks. His throat was dry and he had somehow lost the power of +speech. He looked into the face of the man of science, read the story of +tragedy and a mist closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>The doctor took his arm gently:</p> + +<p>"I've bad news for you——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," was the low answer.</p> + +<p>"The truth is best——"</p> + +<p>"I want to know it."</p> + +<p>"She can't live!"</p> + +<p>The tall figure stiffened, there was a moment of silence and when he spoke +his words fell slowly with measured intensity:</p> + +<p>"There's not a single chance, doctor?"</p> + +<p>"Not worth your cherishing. You'd as well know this now and be prepared. We +opened and drained the old wound, and both agreed that it is too late for +an operation. The flesh that guards the wall of the great vein is a mere +shred. She would die under the operation. I can't undertake it."</p> + +<p>"And it will not heal again?"</p> + +<p>The doctor was silent for a long while and his eyes wandered to the +darkening sky where the stars were coming out one by one:</p> + +<p>"Who knows but God? And who am I to set bounds to his power?"</p> + +<p>"Then there may be a slender chance?" he asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"To the eye of Science—no—yet while life lingers we always hope. But I +wouldn't advise you to leave her side for the next ten days. The end, if it +comes, will be very sudden, and it will be too late for speech."</p> + +<p>A groan interrupted his words and Norton leaned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> heavily against the +balcony rail. The doctor's voice was full of feeling as he continued:</p> + +<p>"If you have anything to say to her you'd better say it quickly to be sure +that it does not remain unsaid."</p> + +<p>"Thank you——"</p> + +<p>"I have told her nothing more can be done now until the wound from this +draining heals—that when it does she can come to New York for a final +decision on the operation."</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>"We leave to-night on the midnight express——"</p> + +<p>"You can do nothing more?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>A warm pressure of the hand in the gathering twilight and he was gone. The +dazed man looked toward the fading sky-line of the southwest at Mt. +Pisgah's towering black form pushing his way into the track of the stars +and a feeling of loneliness crushed his soul.</p> + +<p>He turned abruptly, braced himself for the ordeal and hurried to her room. +She was unusually bright and cheerful.</p> + +<p>"Why, it didn't hurt a bit, dear!" she exclaimed joyfully. "It was nothing. +And when it heals you're to take me to New York for the operation——"</p> + +<p>He took her hot hand and kissed it through blinding tears which he tried in +vain to fight back.</p> + +<p>"They didn't even have to pack that nasty old gauze in it again—were you +very much scared waiting out there, Dan?"</p> + +<p>"Very much."</p> + +<p>She started at the queer note in his voice, caught her hand in his brown +locks and pressed his head back in view:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, you're crying—you big foolish boy! You mustn't do that. I'm all +right now—I feel much better—there's not a trace of pain or uneasiness. +Don't be silly—it's all right, remember."</p> + +<p>He stroked the little hand:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll remember, dearest."</p> + +<p>"It should all be healed in three weeks and then we'll go to New York. +It'll just be fun! I've always been crazy to go. I won't mind the +operation—you'll be with me every minute now till I'm well again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, every moment now until—you—are—well."</p> + +<p>The last words came slowly, but by a supreme effort of will the voice was +held even.</p> + +<p>He found mammy, told her the solemn truth, and sent her to hire a nurse for +the baby.</p> + +<p>"Either you or I must be by her side every minute now, mammy—day and +night."</p> + +<p>"Yessir, I understand," the dear old voice answered.</p> + +<p>Every morning early the nurse brought the baby in for a romp as soon as he +waked and mammy came to relieve the tired watcher.</p> + +<p>Ten days passed before the end came. Many long, sweet hours he had with her +hand in his as the great shadow deepened, while he talked to her of life +and death, and immortality.</p> + +<p>A strange peace had slowly stolen into his heart. He had always hated and +feared death before. Now his fears had gone. And the face of the dim white +messenger seemed to smile at him from the friendly shadows.</p> + +<p>The change came quietly one night as they sat in the moonlight of her +window.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a beautiful world, Dan!" she said softly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> and then the little +hand suddenly grasped her throat! She turned a blanched face on him and +couldn't speak.</p> + +<p>He lifted her tenderly and laid her on the bed, rang for the doctor and +sent mammy for the baby.</p> + +<p>She motioned for a piece of paper—and slowly wrote in a queer, trembling +hand:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I understand, dearest, I am going—it's all right. I am +happy—remember that I love you and have forgiven—rear our +boy free from the curse—you know what I mean. I had rather +a thousand times that he should die than this—my brooding +spirit will watch and guard."</p></div> + +<p>The baby kissed her sweetly and lisped:</p> + +<p>"Good night, mamma!"</p> + +<p>From the doorway he waved his chubby little arm and cried again:</p> + +<p>"Night, night, mamma!"</p> + +<p>The sun was slowly climbing the eastern hills when the end came. Its first +rays streamed through the window and fell on his haggard face as he bent +and pressed a kiss on the silent lips of the dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>QUESTIONS</h3> + + +<p>The thing that crushed the spirit of the man was not the shock of death +with its thousand and one unanswerable questions torturing the soul, but +the possibility that his acts had been the cause of the tragedy. Dr. +Williams had said to him over and over again:</p> + +<p>"Make her will to live and she'll recover!"</p> + +<p>He had fought this grim battle and won. She had willed to live and was +happy. The world had never seemed so beautiful as the day she died. If the +cause of her death lay further back in the curious accident which happened +at the birth of the child, his soul was clear of guilt.</p> + +<p>He held none of the morbid fancies of the super-sensitive mind that would +make a father responsible for a fatal outcome in the birth of a babe. God +made women to bear children. The only woman to be pitied was the one who +could not know the pain, the joy and the danger of this divine hour.</p> + +<p>But the one persistent question to which his mind forever returned was +whether the shock of his sin had weakened her vitality and caused the +return of this old trouble.</p> + +<p>The moment he left the grave on the day of her burial, he turned to the old +doctor with this grim question. He told him the whole story. He told him +every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> word she had spoken since they left home. He recounted every hour of +reaction and depression, the good and the bad, just as the recording angel +might have written it. He ended his recital with the burning question:</p> + +<p>"Tell me now, doctor, honestly before God, did I kill her?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" was the quick response.</p> + +<p>"Don't try to shield me. I can stand the truth. I don't belong to a race of +cowards. After this no pain can ever come but that my soul shall laugh!"</p> + +<p>"I'm honest with you, my boy. I've too much self-respect not to treat you +as a man in such an hour. No, if she died as you say, you had nothing to do +with it. The seed of death was hiding there behind that slender, graceful +throat. I was always afraid of it. And I've always known that if the pain +returned she'd die——"</p> + +<p>"You knew that before we left home?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I only hinted the truth. I thought the change might prolong her life, +that's all."</p> + +<p>"You're not saying this to cheer me? This is not one of your lies you give +for medicine sometimes?"</p> + +<p>"No"—the old doctor smiled gravely. "No, shake off this nightmare and go +back to your work. Your people are calling you."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He made a desperate effort to readjust himself to life, but somehow at the +moment the task was hopeless. He had preached, with all the eloquence of +the enthusiasm of youth, that life in itself is always beautiful and always +good. He found it was easier to preach a thing than to live it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old house seemed to be empty, and, strange to say, the baby's voice +didn't fill it. He had said to himself that the patter of his little feet +and the sound of his laughter would fill its halls, make it possible to +live, and get used to the change. But it wasn't so. Somehow the child's +laughter made him faint. The sound of his voice made the memory of his +mother an intolerable pain. His voice in the morning was the first thing he +heard and it drove him from the house. At night when he knelt to lisp his +prayers her name was a stab, and when he waved his little hands and said: +"Good night, Papa!" he could remember nothing save the last picture that +had burned itself into his soul.</p> + +<p>He tried to feed and care for a canary she had kept in her room, but when +he cocked his little yellow head and gave the loving plaintive cry with +which he used to greet her, the room became a blur and he staggered out +unable to return for a day.</p> + +<p>The silent sympathy of his dog, as he thrust his nose between his hands and +wagged his shaggy tail, was the only thing that seemed to count for +anything.</p> + +<p>"I understand, Don, old boy," he cried, lifting his paw into his lap and +slipping his arm around the woolly neck, "you're telling me that you love +me always, good or bad, right or wrong. I understand, and it's very sweet +to know it. But I've somehow lost the way on life's field, old boy. The +night is coming on and I can't find the road home. You remember that +feeling when we were lost sometimes in strange countries hunting together, +you and I?"</p> + +<p>Don licked his hand and wagged his tail again.</p> + +<p>He rose and walked through the lawn, radiant now with the glory of spring. +But the flowers had become<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> the emblems of Death not Life and their odor +was oppressive.</p> + +<p>A little black boy, in a ragged shirt and torn trousers, barefooted and +bareheaded, stopped at the gate, climbed up and looked over with idle +curiosity at his aimless wandering. He giggled and asked:</p> + +<p>"Ye don't need no boy fer nothin, do ye?"</p> + +<p>The man's sombre eyes suddenly lighted with a look of hate that faded in a +moment and he made no reply. What had this poor little ragamuffin, his face +smeared with dirt and his eyes rolling with childish mirth, to do with +tragic problems which his black skin symbolized! He was there because a +greedy race of empire builders had need of his labor. He had remained to +torment and puzzle and set at naught the wisdom of statesmen for the same +reason. For the first time in his life he asked himself a startling +question:</p> + +<p>"Do I really need him?"</p> + +<p>Before the shock that threw his life into ruins he would have answered as +every Southerner always answered at that time:</p> + +<p>"Certainly I need him. His labor is indispensable to the South."</p> + +<p>But to-day, back of the fire that flashed in his eyes, there had been born +a new thought. He was destined to forget it in the stress of the life of +the future, but it was there growing from day to day. The thought shaped +itself into questions:</p> + +<p>"Isn't the price we pay too great? Is his labor worth more than the purity +of our racial stock? Shall we improve the breed of men or degrade it? Is +any progress that degrades the breed of men progress at all? Is it not +retrogression? Can we afford it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + +<p>He threw off his train of thought with a gesture of weariness and a great +desire suddenly possessed his heart to get rid of such a burden by a +complete break with every tie of life save one.</p> + +<p>"Why not take the boy and go?" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The more he turned the idea over in his mind the more clearly it seemed to +be the sensible thing to do.</p> + +<p>But the fighting instinct within him was too strong for immediate +surrender. He went to his office determined to work and lose himself in a +return to its old habits.</p> + +<p>He sat down at his desk, but his mind was a blank. There wasn't a question +on earth that seemed worth writing an editorial about. Nothing mattered.</p> + +<p>For two hours he sat hopelessly staring at his exchanges. The same world, +which he had left a few weeks before when he had gone down into the valley +of the shadows to fight for his life, still rolled on with its endless +story of joy and sorrow, ambitions and struggle. It seemed now the record +of the buzzing of a lot of insects. It was a waste of time to record such a +struggle or to worry one way or another about it. And this effort of a +daily newspaper to write the day's history of these insects! It might be +worth the while of a philosopher to pause a moment to record the blow that +would wipe them out of existence, but to get excited again over their +little squabbles—it seemed funny now that he had ever been such a fool!</p> + +<p>He rose at last in disgust and seized his hat to go home when the Chairman +of the Executive Committee of his party suddenly walked into his office +unannounced. His face was wreathed in smiles and his deep bass voice had a +hearty, genuine ring:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've big news for you, major!"</p> + +<p>The editor placed a chair beside his desk, motioned his visitor to be +seated and quietly resumed his seat.</p> + +<p>"It's been settled for some time," he went on enthusiastically, "but we +thought best not to make the announcement so soon after your wife's death. +I reckon you can guess my secret?"</p> + +<p>"I give it up," was the listless answer.</p> + +<p>"The Committee has voted unanimously to make you the next Governor. Your +nomination with such backing is a mere formality. Your election is a +certainty——"</p> + +<p>The Chairman sprang to his feet and extended his big hand:</p> + +<p>"I salute the Governor of the Commonwealth—the youngest man in the history +of the state to hold such high office——"</p> + +<p>"You mean it?" Norton asked in a stupor.</p> + +<p>"Mean it? Of course I mean it! Why don't you give me your hand? What's the +matter?"</p> + +<p>"You see, I've sort of lost my bearings in politics lately."</p> + +<p>The Chairman's voice was lowered:</p> + +<p>"Of course, major, I understand. Well, this is the medicine you need now to +brace you up. For the first time in my memory a name will go before our +convention without a rival. There'll be just one ballot and that will be a +single shout that'll raise the roof——"</p> + +<p>Norton rose and walked to his window overlooking the Square, as he was in +the habit of doing often, turning his back for a moment on the enthusiastic +politician.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was trying to think. The first big dream of his life had come true and +it didn't interest him.</p> + +<p>He turned abruptly and faced his visitor:</p> + +<p>"Tell your Committee for me," he said with slow emphatic voice, "that I +appreciate the high honor they would do me, but cannot accept——"</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"I cannot accept the responsibility."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it?"</p> + +<p>"I was never more in earnest."</p> + +<p>The Chairman slipped his arm around the editor with a movement of genuine +sympathy:</p> + +<p>"Come, my boy, this is nonsense. I'm a veteran politician. No man ever did +such a thing as this in the history of the state! You can't decline such an +honor. You're only twenty-five years old."</p> + +<p>"Time is not measured by the tick of a clock," Norton interrupted, "but by +what we've lived."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, we know you've had a great shock in the death of your wife, but +you must remember that the people—a million people—are calling you to +lead them. It's a solemn duty. Don't say no now. Take a little time and +you'll see that it's the work sent to you at the moment you need it most. I +won't take no for an answer——"</p> + +<p>He put on his hat and started to the door:</p> + +<p>"I'll just report to the Committee that I notified you and that you have +the matter under consideration."</p> + +<p>Before Norton could enter a protest the politician had gone.</p> + +<p>His decision was instantly made. This startling event revealed the +hopelessness of life under its present<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> conditions. He would leave the +South. He would put a thousand miles between him and the scene of the +events of the past year. He would leave his home with its torturing +memories.</p> + +<p>Above all, he would leave the negroid conditions that made his shame +possible and rear his boy in clean air.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>CLEO'S CRY</h3> + + +<p>The decision once made was carried out without delay. He placed an editor +permanently in charge of his paper, closed the tall green shutters of the +stately old house, sold his horses, and bought tickets for himself and +mammy for New York.</p> + +<p>He paused at the gate and looked back at the white pillars of which he had +once been so proud. He hadn't a single regret at leaving.</p> + +<p>"A house doesn't make a home, after all!" he sighed with a lingering look.</p> + +<p>He took the boy to the cemetery for a last hour beside the mother's grave +before he should turn his back on the scenes of his old life forever.</p> + +<p>The cemetery was the most beautiful spot in the county. At this period of +the life of the South, it was the one spot where every home had its little +plot. The war had killed the flower of Southern manhood. The bravest and +the noblest boys never surrendered. They died with a shout and a smile on +their lips and Southern women came daily now to keep their love watches on +these solemn bivouacs of the dead. The girls got the habit of going there +to plant flowers and to tend them and grew to love the shaded walks, the +deep boxwood hedges, the quiet, sweetly perfumed air. Sweethearts were +always strolling among the flowers and from every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> nook and corner peeped a +rustic seat that could tell its story of the first stammering words from +lovers' lips.</p> + +<p>Norton saw them everywhere this beautiful spring afternoon, the girls in +their white, clean dresses, the boys bashful and self-conscious. A throb of +pain gripped his heart and he hurried through the wilderness of flowers to +the spot beneath a great oak where he had laid the tired body of the first +and only woman he had ever loved.</p> + +<p>He placed the child on the grass and led him to the newly-made mound, put +into his tiny hand the roses he had brought and guided him while he placed +them on her grave.</p> + +<p>"This is where little mother sleeps, my boy," he said softly. "Remember it +now—it will be a long, long time before we shall see it again. You won't +forget——"</p> + +<p>"No—dad-ee," he lisped sweetly. "I'll not fordet, the big tree——"</p> + +<p>The man rose and stood in silence seeing again the last beautiful day of +their life together and forgot the swift moments. He stood as in a trance +from which he was suddenly awakened by the child's voice calling him +excitedly from another walkway into which he had wandered:</p> + +<p>"Dad-ee!" he called again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, baby," he answered.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come quick! Dad-ee—here's C-l-e-o!"</p> + +<p>Norton turned and with angry steps measured the distance between them.</p> + +<p>He came upon them suddenly behind a boxwood hedge. The girl was kneeling +with the child's arms around her neck, clinging to her with all the +yearning of his hungry little heart, and she was muttering half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> articulate +words of love and tenderness. She held him from her a moment, looked into +his eyes and cried:</p> + +<p>"And you missed me, darling?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—C-l-e-o!" he cried, "I thought 'oo'd <i>nev-er</i> tum!"</p> + +<p>The angry words died in the man's lips as he watched the scene in silence.</p> + +<p>He stooped and drew the child away:</p> + +<p>"Come, baby, we must go——"</p> + +<p>"Tum on, C-l-e-o, we do now," he cried.</p> + +<p>The girl shook her head and turned away.</p> + +<p>"Tum on, C-l-e-o!" he cried tenderly.</p> + +<p>She waved him a kiss, and the child said excitedly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, dad-ee, wait!—wait for C-l-e-o!"</p> + +<p>"No, my baby, she can't come with us——"</p> + +<p>The little head sank to his shoulder, a sob rose from his heart and he +burst into weeping. And through the storm of tears one word only came out +clear and soft and plaintive:</p> + +<p>"C-l-e-o! C-l-e-o!"</p> + +<p>The girl watched them until they reached the gate and then, on a sudden +impulse, ran swiftly up, caught the child's hand that hung limply down his +father's back, covered it with kisses and cried in cheerful, half-laughing +tones:</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, darling! Cleo will come again!"</p> + +<p>And in the long journey to the North the man brooded over the strange tones +of joyous assurance with which the girl had spoken.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>THE BLOW FALLS</h3> + + +<p>For a time Norton lost himself in the stunning immensity of the life of New +York. He made no effort to adjust himself to it. He simply allowed its +waves to roll over and engulf him.</p> + +<p>He stopped with mammy and the boy at a brown-stone boarding house on +Stuyvesant Square kept by a Southern woman to whom he had a letter of +introduction.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Beam was not an ideal landlady, but her good-natured helplessness +appealed to him. She was a large woman of ample hips and bust, and though +very tall seemed always in her own way. She moved slowly and laughed with a +final sort of surrender to fate when anything went wrong. And it was +generally going wrong. She was still comparatively young—perhaps +thirty-two—but was built on so large and unwieldy a pattern that it was +not easy to guess her age, especially as she had a silly tendency to +harmless kittenish ways at times.</p> + +<p>The poor thing was pitifully at sea in her new world and its work. She had +been reared in a typically extravagant home of the old South where slaves +had waited her call from childhood. She had not learned to sew, or cook or +keep house—in fact, she had never learned to do anything useful or +important. So naturally she took boarders. Her husband, on whose shoulders +she had placed every burden of life the day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> of her marriage, lay somewhere +in an unmarked trench on a Virginia battlefield.</p> + +<p>She couldn't conceive of any human being enduring a servant that wasn't +black and so had turned her house over to a lazy and worthless crew of +Northern negro help. The house was never clean, the waste in her kitchen +was appalling, but so long as she could find money to pay her rent and +grocery bills, she was happy. Her only child, a daughter of sixteen, never +dreamed of lifting her hand to work, and it hadn't yet occurred to the +mother to insult her with such a suggestion.</p> + +<p>Norton was not comfortable but he was lonely, and Mrs. Beam's easy ways, +genial smile and Southern weaknesses somehow gave him a sense of being at +home and he stayed. Mammy complained bitterly of the insolence and low +manners of the kitchen. But he only laughed and told her she'd get used to +it.</p> + +<p>He was astonished to find that so many Southern people had drifted to New +York—exiles of all sorts, with one universal trait, poverty and +politeness.</p> + +<p>And they quickly made friends. As he began to realize it, his heart went +out to the great city with a throb of gratitude.</p> + +<p>When the novelty of the new world had gradually worn off a feeling of +loneliness set in. He couldn't get used to the crowds on every street, +these roaring rivers of strange faces rushing by like the waters of a +swollen stream after a freshet, hurrying and swirling out of its banks.</p> + +<p>At first he had found himself trying to bow to every man he met and take +off his hat to every woman. It took a long time to break himself of this +Southern instinct. The thing that cured him completely was when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> he tipped +his hat unconsciously to a lady on Fifth Avenue. She blushed furiously, +hurried to the corner and had him arrested.</p> + +<p>His apology was so abject, so evidently sincere, his grief so absurd over +her mistake that when she caught his Southern drawl, it was her turn to +blush and ask his pardon.</p> + +<p>A feeling of utter depression and pitiful homesickness gradually crushed +his spirit. His soul began to cry for the sunlit fields and the perfumed +nights of the South. There didn't seem to be any moon or stars here, and +the only birds he ever saw were the chattering drab little sparrows in the +parks.</p> + +<p>The first day of autumn, as he walked through Central Park, a magnificent +Irish setter lifted his fine head and spied him. Some subtle instinct told +the dog that the man was a hunter and a lover of his kind. The setter +wagged his tail and introduced himself. Norton dropped to a seat, drew the +shaggy face into his lap, and stroked his head.</p> + +<p>He was back home again. Don, with his fine nose high in the air, was +circling a field and Andy was shouting:</p> + +<p>"He's got 'em! He's got 'em sho, Marse Dan!"</p> + +<p>He could see Don's slim white and black figure stepping slowly through the +high grass on velvet feet, glancing back to see if his master were +coming—the muscles suddenly stiffened, his tail became rigid, and the +whole covey of quail were under his nose!</p> + +<p>He was a boy again and felt the elemental thrill of man's first work as +hunter and fisherman. He looked about him at the bald coldness of the +artificial park and a desperate longing surged through his heart to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> be +among his own people again, to live their life and feel their joys and +sorrows as his own.</p> + +<p>And then the memory of the great tragedy slowly surged back, he pushed the +dog aside, rose and hurried on in his search for a new world.</p> + +<p>He tried the theatres—saw Booth in his own house on 23d Street play +"Hamlet" and Lawrence Barrett "Othello," listened with rapture to the new +Italian Grand Opera Company in the Academy of Music—saw a burlesque in the +Tammany Theatre on 14th Street, Lester Wallack in "The School for Scandal" +at Wallack's Theatre on Broadway at 13th Street, and Tony Pastor in his +variety show at his Opera House on the Bowery, and yet returned each night +with a dull ache in his heart.</p> + +<p>Other men who loved home less perhaps could adjust themselves to new +surroundings, but somehow in him this home instinct, this feeling of +personal friendliness for neighbor and people, this passion for house and +lawn, flowers and trees and shrubs, for fields and rivers and hills, seemed +of the very fibre of his inmost life. This vast rushing, roaring, +impersonal world, driven by invisible titanic forces, somehow didn't appeal +to him. It merely stunned and appalled and confused his mind.</p> + +<p>And then without warning the blow fell.</p> + +<p>He told himself afterwards that he must have been waiting for it, that some +mysterious power of mental telepathy had wired its message without words +across the thousand miles that separated him from the old life, and yet the +surprise was complete and overwhelming.</p> + +<p>He had tried that morning to write. A story was shaping itself in his mind +and he felt the impulse to express it. But he was too depressed. He threw +his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> pencil down in disgust and walked to his window facing the little +park.</p> + +<p>It was a bleak, miserable day in November—the first freezing weather had +come during the night and turned a drizzling rain into sleet. The streets +were covered with a thin, hard, glistening coat of ice. A coal wagon had +stalled in front of the house, a magnificent draught horse had fallen and a +brutal driver began to beat him unmercifully.</p> + +<p>Henry Berg's Society had not yet been organized.</p> + +<p>Norton rushed from the door and faced the astonished driver:</p> + +<p>"Don't you dare to strike that horse again!"</p> + +<p>The workman turned his half-drunken face on the intruder with a vicious +leer:</p> + +<p>"Well, what t'ell——"</p> + +<p>"I mean it!"</p> + +<p>With an oath the driver lunged at him:</p> + +<p>"Get out of my way!"</p> + +<p>The big fist shot at Norton's head. He parried the attack and knocked the +man down. The driver scrambled to his feet and plunged forward again. A +second blow sent him flat on his back on the ice and his body slipped three +feet and struck the curb.</p> + +<p>"Have you got enough?" Norton asked, towering over the sprawling figure.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, get up now, and I'll help you with the horse."</p> + +<p>He helped the sullen fellow unhitch the fallen horse, lift him to his feet +and readjust the harness. He put shoulder to the wheel and started the +wagon again on its way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> + +<p>He returned to his room feeling better. It was the first fight he had +started for months and it stirred his blood to healthy reaction.</p> + +<p>He watched the bare limbs swaying in the bitter wind in front of St. +George's Church and his eye rested on the steeples the architects said were +unsafe and might fall some day with a crash, and his depression slowly +returned. He had waked that morning with a vague sense of dread.</p> + +<p>"I guess it was that fight!" he muttered. "The scoundrel will be back in an +hour with a warrant for my arrest and I'll spend a few days in jail——"</p> + +<p>The postman's whistle blew at the basement window. He knew that fellow by +the way he started the first notes of his call—always low, swelling into a +peculiar shrill crescendo and dying away in a weird cry of pain.</p> + +<p>The call this morning was one of startling effects. It was his high nerve +tension, of course, that made the difference—perhaps, too, the bitter cold +and swirling gusts of wind outside. But the shock was none the less vivid. +The whistle began so low it seemed at first the moaning of the wind, the +high note rang higher and higher, until it became the shout of a fiend, and +died away with a wail of agony wrung from a lost soul.</p> + +<p>He shivered at the sound. He would not have been surprised to receive a +letter from the dead after that.</p> + +<p>He heard some one coming slowly up stairs. It was mammy and the boy. The +lazy maid had handed his mail to her, of course.</p> + +<p>His door was pushed open and the child ran in holding a letter in his red, +chubby hand:</p> + +<p>"A letter, daddy!" he cried.</p> + +<p>He took it mechanically, staring at the inscription.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> He knew now the +meaning of his horrible depression! She was writing that letter when it +began yesterday. He recognized Cleo's handwriting at a glance, though this +was unusually blurred and crooked. The postmark was Baltimore, another +striking fact.</p> + +<p>He laid the letter down on his table unopened and turned to mammy:</p> + +<p>"Take him to your room. I'm trying to do some writing."</p> + +<p>The old woman took the child's hand grumbling:</p> + +<p>"Come on, mammy's darlin', nobody wants us!"</p> + +<p>He closed the door, locked it, glanced savagely at the unopened letter, +drew his chair before the open fire and gazed into the glowing coals.</p> + +<p>He feared to break the seal—feared with a dull, sickening dread. He +glanced at it again as though he were looking at a toad that had suddenly +intruded into his room.</p> + +<p>Six months had passed without a sign, and he had ceased to wonder at the +strange calm with which she received her dismissal and his flight from the +scene after his wife's death. He had begun to believe that her shadow would +never again fall across his life.</p> + +<p>It had come at last. He picked the letter up, and tried to guess its +meaning. She was going to make demands on him, of course. He had expected +this months ago. But why should she be in Baltimore? He thought of a +hundred foolish reasons without once the faintest suspicion of the truth +entering his mind.</p> + +<p>He broke the seal and read its contents. A look of vague incredulity +overspread his face, followed by a sudden pallor. The one frightful thing +he had dreaded and forgotten was true!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + +<p>He crushed the letter in his powerful hand with a savage groan:</p> + +<p>"God in Heaven!"</p> + +<p>He spread it out again and read and re-read its message, until each word +burned its way into his soul:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Our baby was born here yesterday. I was on my way to New +York to you, but was taken sick on the train at Baltimore +and had to stop. I'm alone and have no money, but I'm proud +and happy. I know that you will help me.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +"<span class="smcap">Cleo.</span>"<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>For hours he sat in a stupor of pain, holding this crumpled letter in his +hand, staring into the fire.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE CALL OF THE BLOOD</h3> + + +<p>It was all clear now, the mystery of Cleo's assurance, of her happiness, of +her acceptance of his going without protest.</p> + +<p>She had known the truth from the first and had reckoned on his strength and +manliness to draw him to her in this hour.</p> + +<p>"I'll show her!" he said in fierce rebellion. "I'll give her the money she +needs—yes—but her shadow shall never again darken my life. I won't permit +this shame to smirch the soul of my boy—I'll die first!"</p> + +<p>He moved to the West side of town, permitted no one to learn his new +address, sent her money from the general postoffice, and directed all his +mail to a lock box he had secured.</p> + +<p>He destroyed thus every trace by which she might discover his residence if +she dared to venture into New York.</p> + +<p>To his surprise it was more than three weeks before he received a reply +from her. And the second letter made an appeal well-nigh resistless. The +message was brief, but she had instinctively chosen the words that found +him. How well she knew that side of his nature! He resented it with rage +and tried to read all sorts of sinister guile into the lines. But as he +scanned them a second time reason rejected all save the simplest and most +obvious meaning the words implied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + +<p>The letter was evidently written in a cramped position. She had missed the +lines many times and some words were so scrawled they were scarcely +legible. But he read them all at last:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I have been very sick since your letter came with the +money. I tried to get up too soon. I have suffered awfully. +You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through. Please +don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help +now. I want to see you just once, and then I won't trouble +you any more. I am very weak to-day, but I'll soon be strong +again.</p> + +<p class="sig"> +"<span class="smcap">Cleo.</span>"<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>It made him furious, this subtle appeal to his keen sense of fatherhood. +She knew how tenderly he loved his boy. She knew that while such +obligations rest lightly on some men, the tie that bound him to his son was +the biggest thing in his life. She had been near him long enough to learn +the secret things of his inner life. She was using them now to break down +the barriers of character and self-respect. He could see it plainly. He +hated her for it and yet the appeal went straight to his heart.</p> + +<p>Two things in this letter he couldn't get away from:</p> + +<p>"You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through."</p> + +<p>He kept reading this over. And the next line:</p> + +<p>"Please don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help now."</p> + +<p>The appeal was so human, so simple, so obviously sincere, no man with a +soul could ignore it. How could she help it now? She too had been swept +into the tragic situation by the blind forces of Nature. After all, had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> it +not been inevitable? Did not such a position of daily intimate physical +contact—morning, noon and night—mean just this? Could she have helped it? +Were they not both the victims, in a sense, of the follies of centuries? +Had he the right to be angry with her?</p> + +<p>His reason answered, no. And again came the deeper question—can any man +ever escape the consequences of his deeds? Deeds are of the infinite and +eternal and the smallest one disturbs the universe. It slowly began to dawn +on him that nothing he could ever do or say could change one elemental +fact. She was a mother—a fact bigger than all the forms and ceremonies of +the ages. It was just this thing in his history that made his sin against +the wife so poignant, both to her and to his imagination. A child was a +child, and he had no right to sneak and play a coward in such an hour.</p> + +<p>Step by step the woman's simple cry forced its way into the soul and slowly +but surely the rags were stripped from pride, until he began to see himself +naked and without sham.</p> + +<p>The one thing that finally cut deepest was the single sentence: "You see, I +didn't know how much I had gone through——"</p> + +<p>He read it again with a feeling of awe. No matter what the shade of her +olive cheek or the length of her curly hair, she was a mother with all that +big word means in the language of men. Say what he might—of her art in +leading him on, of her final offering herself in a hundred subtle ways in +their daily life in his home—he was still responsible. He had accepted the +challenge at last.</p> + +<p>And he knew what it meant to any woman under the best conditions, with a +mother's face hovering near and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> the man she loved by her side. He saw +again the scene of his boy's birth. And then another picture—a lonely girl +in a strange city without a friend—a cot in the whitewashed ward of a +city's hospital—a pair of startled eyes looking in vain for a loved, +familiar face as her trembling feet stepped falteringly down into the +valley that lies between Life and Death!</p> + +<p>A pitiful thing, this hour of suffering and of waiting for the unknown.</p> + +<p>His heart went out to her in sympathy, and he answered her letter with a +promise to come. But on the day he was to start for Baltimore mammy was +stricken with a cold which developed into pneumonia. Unaccustomed to the +rigors of a Northern climate, she had been careless and the result from the +first was doubtful. To leave her was, of course, impossible.</p> + +<p>He sent for a doctor and two nurses and no care or expense was spared, but +in spite of every effort she died. It was four weeks before he returned +from the funeral in the South.</p> + +<p>He reached Baltimore in a blinding snowstorm the week preceding Christmas. +Cleo had left the hospital three weeks previous to his arrival, and for +some unexplained reason had spent a week or ten days in Norfolk and +returned in time to meet him.</p> + +<p>He failed to find her at the address she had given him, but was directed to +an obscure hotel in another quarter of the city.</p> + +<p>He was surprised and puzzled at the attitude assumed at this meeting. She +was nervous, irritable, insolent and apparently anxious for a fight.</p> + +<p>"Well, why do you stare at me like that?" she asked angrily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Was I staring?" he said with an effort at self-control.</p> + +<p>"After all I've been through the past weeks," she said bitterly, "I didn't +care whether I lived or died."</p> + +<p>"I meant to have come at once as I wrote you. But mammy's illness and death +made it impossible to get here sooner."</p> + +<p>"One excuse is as good as another," she retorted with a contemptuous toss +of her head.</p> + +<p>Norton looked at her in blank amazement. It was inconceivable that this was +the same woman who wrote him the simple, sincere appeal a few weeks ago. It +was possible, of course, that suffering had embittered her mind and reduced +her temporarily to the nervous condition in which she appeared.</p> + +<p>"Why do you keep staring at me?" she asked again, with insolent ill-temper.</p> + +<p>He was so enraged at her evident attempt to bully him into an attitude of +abject sympathy, he shot her a look of rage, seized his hat and without a +word started for the door.</p> + +<p>With a cry of despair she was by his side and grasped his arm:</p> + +<p>"Please—please don't!"</p> + +<p>"Change your tactics, then, if you have anything to say to me."</p> + +<p>She flushed, stammered, looked at him queerly and then smiled:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will, major—please don't be mad at me! You see, I'm just a little +crazy. I've been through so much since I came here I didn't know what I was +saying to you. I'm awfully sorry—let me take your hat——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> + +<p>She took his hat, laid it on the table and led him to a seat.</p> + +<p>"Please sit down. I'm so glad you've come, and I thank you for coming. I'm +just as humble and grateful as I can be. You must forget how foolish I've +acted. I've been so miserable and scared and lonely, it's a wonder I +haven't jumped into the bay. And I just thought at last that you were never +coming."</p> + +<p>Norton looked at her with new astonishment. Not because there was anything +strange in what she said—he had expected some such words on his arrival, +but because they didn't ring true. She seemed to be lying. There was an +expression of furtive cunning in her greenish eyes that was uncanny. He +couldn't make her out. In spite of the effort to be friendly she was +repulsive.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm here," he said calmly. "You have something to say—what is it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," she answered smilingly. "I have a lot to say. I want you to +tell me what to do."</p> + +<p>"Anything you like," he answered bluntly.</p> + +<p>"It's nothing to you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll give you an allowance."</p> + +<p>"Is that all?"</p> + +<p>"What else do you expect?"</p> + +<p>"You don't want to see her?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were coming for that?"</p> + +<p>"I've changed my mind. And the less we see of each other the better. I'll +go with you to-morrow and verify the records——"</p> + +<p>Cleo laughed:</p> + +<p>"You don't think I'm joking about her birth?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No. But I'm not going to take your word for it."</p> + +<p>"All right, I'll go with you to-morrow."</p> + +<p>He started again to the door. He felt that he must leave—that he was +smothering. Something about the girl's manner got on his nerves. Not only +was there no sort of sympathy or attraction between them but the longer he +stayed in her presence the more he felt the desire to choke her. He began +to look into her eyes with growing suspicion and hate, and behind their +smiling plausibility he felt the power of a secret deadly hostility.</p> + +<p>"You don't want me to go back home with the child, do you?" Cleo asked with +a furtive glance.</p> + +<p>"No, I do not," he replied, emphatically.</p> + +<p>"I'm going back—but I'll give her up and let you educate her in a convent +on one condition——"</p> + +<p>"What?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"That you let me nurse the boy again and give me the protection and shelter +of your home——"</p> + +<p>"Never!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Please be reasonable. It will be best for you and best for me and best for +her that her life shall never be blackened by the stain of my blood. I've +thought it all out. It's the only way——"</p> + +<p>"No," he replied sternly. "I'll educate her in my own way, if placed in my +hands without condition. But you shall never enter my house again——"</p> + +<p>"Is it fair," she pleaded, "to take everything from me and turn me out in +the world alone? I'll give your boy all the love of a hungry heart. He +loves me."</p> + +<p>"He has forgotten your existence——"</p> + +<p>"You know that he hasn't!"</p> + +<p>"I know that he has," Norton persisted with rising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> wrath. "It's a waste of +breath for you to talk to me about this thing"—he turned on her fiercely:</p> + +<p>"Why do you wish to go back there? To grin and hint the truth to your +friends?"</p> + +<p>"You know that I'd cut my tongue out sooner than betray you. I'd like to +scream it from every housetop—yes. But I won't. I won't, because you smile +or frown means too much to me. I'm asking this that I may live and work for +you and be your slave without money and without price——"</p> + +<p>"I understand," he broke in bitterly, "because you think that thus you can +again drag me down—well, you can't do it! The power you once had is +gone—gone forever—never to return——"</p> + +<p>"Then why be afraid? No one there knows except my mother. You hate me. All +right. I can do you no harm. I'll never hate you. I'll just be happy to +serve you, to love your boy and help you rear him to be a fine man. Let me +go back with you and open the old house again——"</p> + +<p>He lifted his hand with a gesture of angry impatience:</p> + +<p>"Enough of this now—you go your way in life and I go mine."</p> + +<p>"I'll not give her up except on my conditions——"</p> + +<p>"Then you can keep her and go where you please. If you return home you'll +not find me. I'll put the ocean between us if necessary——"</p> + +<p>He stepped quickly to the door and she knew it was needless to argue +further.</p> + +<p>"Come to my hotel to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and I'll make you a +settlement through a lawyer."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll be there," she answered in a low tone, "but please, major, before you +go let me ask you not to remember the foolish things I said and the way I +acted when you came. I'm so sorry—forgive me. I made you terribly mad. I +don't know what was the matter with me. Remember I'm just a foolish girl +here without a friend——"</p> + +<p>She stopped, her voice failing:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God, I'm so lonely, I don't want to live! You don't know what it +means for me just to be near you—please let me go home with you!"</p> + +<p>There was something genuine in this last cry. It reached his heart in spite +of anger. He hesitated and spoke in kindly tones:</p> + +<p>"Good night—I'll see you in the morning."</p> + +<p>This plea of loneliness and homesickness found the weak spot in his armor. +It was so clearly the echo of his own feelings. The old home, with its +beautiful and sad memories, his people and his work had begun to pull +resistlessly. Her suggestion was a subtle and dangerous one, doubly +seductive because it was so safe a solution of difficulties. There was not +the shadow of a doubt that her deeper purpose was to ultimately dominate +his personal life. He was sure of his strength, yet he knew that the wise +thing to do was to refuse to listen.</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock next morning she came. He had called a lawyer and drawn up a +settlement that only waited her signature.</p> + +<p>She had not said she would sign—she had not positively refused. She was +looking at him with dumb pleading eyes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="419" height="650" alt=""He had heard the call of his people."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"He had heard the call of his people."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without a moment's warning the boy pushed his way into the room. Norton +sprang before Cleo and shouted angrily to the nurse:</p> + +<p>"I told you not to let him come into this room——"</p> + +<p>"But you see I des tum!" the boy answered with a laugh as he darted to the +corner.</p> + +<p>The thing he dreaded had happened. In a moment the child saw Cleo. There +was just an instant's hesitation and the father smiled that he had +forgotten her. But the hesitation was only the moment of dazed surprise. +With a scream of joy he crossed the room and sprang into her arms:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Cleo—Cleo—my Cleo! You've tum—you've tum! Look, Daddy! She's +tum—my Cleo!"</p> + +<p>He hugged her, he kissed her, he patted her flushed cheeks, he ran his +little fingers through her tangled hair, drew himself up and kissed her +again.</p> + +<p>She snatched him to her heart and burst into uncontrollable sobs, raised +her eyes streaming with tears to Norton and said softly:</p> + +<p>"Let me go home with you!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her, hesitated and then slowly tore the legal document to +pieces, threw it in the fire and nodded his consent.</p> + +<p>But this time his act was not surrender. He had heard the call of his +people and his country. It was the first step toward the execution of a new +life purpose that had suddenly flamed in the depths of his darkened soul as +he watched the picture of the olive cheek of the woman against the clear +white of his child's.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>Book Two—Atonement</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE NEW LIFE PURPOSE</h3> + + +<p>Norton had been compelled to wait twenty years for the hour when he could +strike the first decisive blow in the execution of his new life purpose.</p> + +<p>But the aim he had set was so high, so utterly unselfish, so visionary, so +impossible by the standards of modern materialism, he felt the thrill of +the religious fanatic as he daily girded himself to his task.</p> + +<p>He was far from being a religious enthusiast, although he had grown a +religion of his own, inherited in part, dreamed in part from the depth of +his own heart. The first article of this faith was a firm belief in the +ever-brooding Divine Spirit and its guidance in the work of man if he but +opened his mind to its illumination.</p> + +<p>He believed, as in his own existence, that God's Spirit had revealed the +vision he saw in the hour of his agony, twenty years before when he had +watched his boy's tiny arms encircle the neck of Cleo, the tawny young +animal who had wrecked his life, but won the heart of his child. He had +tried to desert his people of the South and awaked with a shock. His mind +in prophetic gaze had leaped the years and seen the gradual wearing down of +every barrier between the white and black races by the sheer force of daily +contact under the new conditions which Democracy had made inevitable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + +<p>Even under the iron laws of slavery it was impossible for an inferior and +superior race to live side by side for centuries as master and slave +without the breaking down of some of these barriers. But the moment the +magic principle of equality in a Democracy became the law of life they must +all melt or Democracy itself yield and die. He had squarely faced this big +question and given his life to its solution.</p> + +<p>When he returned to his old home and installed Cleo as his housekeeper and +nurse she was the living incarnation before his eyes daily of the problem +to be solved—the incarnation of its subtleties and its dangers. He studied +her with the cold intellectual passion of a scientist. Nor was there ever a +moment's uncertainty or halting in the grim purpose that fired his soul.</p> + +<p>She had at first accepted his matter of fact treatment as the sign of +ultimate surrender. And yet as the years passed she saw with increasing +wonder and rage the gulf between them deepen and darken. She tried every +art her mind could conceive and her effective body symbolize in vain. His +eyes looked at her, but never saw the woman. They only saw the thing he +hated—the mongrel breed of a degraded nation.</p> + +<p>He had begun his work at the beginning. He had tried to do the things that +were possible. The minds of the people were not yet ready to accept the +idea of a complete separation of the races. He planned for the slow process +of an epic movement. His paper, in season and out of season, presented the +daily life of the black and white races in such a way that the dullest mind +must be struck by the fact that their relations presented an insoluble +problem. Every road of escape led at last through a blind alley against a +blank wall.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>In this policy he antagonized no one, but expressed always the doubts and +fears that lurked in the minds of thoughtful men and women. His paper had +steadily grown in circulation and in solid power. He meant to use this +power at the right moment. He had waited patiently and the hour at last had +struck.</p> + +<p>The thunder of a torpedo under an American warship lying in Havana harbor +shook the Nation and changed the alignment of political parties.</p> + +<p>The war with Spain lasted but a few months, but it gave the South her +chance. Her sons leaped to the front and proved their loyalty to the flag. +The "Bloody Shirt" could never again be waved. The negro ceased to be a +ward of the Nation and the Union of States our fathers dreamed was at last +an accomplished fact. There could never again be a "North" or a "South."</p> + +<p>Norton's first brilliant editorial reviewing the results of this war drew +the fire of his enemies from exactly the quarter he expected.</p> + +<p>A little college professor, who aspired to the leadership of Southern +thought under Northern patronage, called at his office.</p> + +<p>The editor's lips curled with contempt as he read the engraved card:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Professor Alexander Magraw"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The man had long been one of his pet aversions. He occupied a chair in one +of the state's leading colleges, and his effusions advocating peace at any +price on the negro problem had grown so disgusting of late the <i>Eagle and +Phoenix</i> had refused to print them.</p> + +<p>Magraw was nothing daunted. He devoted his energies<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> to writing a book in +fulsome eulogy of a notorious negro which had made him famous in the North. +He wrote it to curry favor with the millionaires who were backing this +African's work and succeeded in winning their boundless admiration. They +hailed him the coming leader of "advanced thought." As a Southern white man +the little professor had boldly declared that this negro, who had never +done anything except to demonstrate his skill as a beggar in raising a +million dollars from Northern sentimentalists, was the greatest human being +ever born in America!</p> + +<p>Outraged public opinion in the South had demanded his expulsion from the +college for this idiotic effusion, but he was so entrenched behind the +power of money he could not be disturbed. His loud protests for free speech +following his acquittal had greatly increased the number of his henchmen.</p> + +<p>Norton wondered at the meaning of his visit. It could only be a sinister +one. In view of his many contemptuous references to the man, he was amazed +at his audacity in venturing to invade his office.</p> + +<p>He scowled a long while at the card and finally said to the boy:</p> + +<p>"Show him in."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>A MODERN SCALAWAG</h3> + + +<p>As the professor entered the office Norton was surprised at his height and +weight. He had never met him personally, but had unconsciously formed the +idea that he was a scrub physically.</p> + +<p>He saw a man above the average height, weighing nearly two hundred, with +cheeks flabby but inclined to fat. It was not until he spoke that he caught +the unmistakable note of effeminacy in his voice and saw it clearly +reflected in his features.</p> + +<p>He was dressed with immaculate neatness and wore a tie of an extraordinary +shade of lavender which matched the silk hose that showed above his stylish +low-cut shoes.</p> + +<p>"Major Norton, I believe?" he said with a smile.</p> + +<p>The editor bowed without rising:</p> + +<p>"At your service, Professor Magraw. Have a seat, sir."</p> + +<p>"Thank you! Thank you!" the dainty voice murmured with so marked a +resemblance to a woman's tones that Norton was torn between two +impulses—one to lift his eyebrows and sigh, "Oh, splash!" and the other to +kick him down the stairs. He was in no mood for the amenities of polite +conversation, turned and asked bluntly:</p> + +<p>"May I inquire, professor, why you have honored<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> me with this unexpected +call—I confess I am very curious?"</p> + +<p>"No doubt, no doubt," he replied glibly. "You have certainly not minced +matters in your personal references to me in the paper of late, Major +Norton, but I have simply taken it good-naturedly as a part of your day's +work. Apparently we represent two irreconcilable ideals of Southern +society——"</p> + +<p>"There can be no doubt about that," Norton interrupted grimly.</p> + +<p>"Yet I have dared to hope that our differences are only apparent and that +we might come to a better understanding."</p> + +<p>He paused, simpered and smiled.</p> + +<p>"About what?" the editor asked with a frown.</p> + +<p>"About the best policy for the leaders of public opinion to pursue to more +rapidly advance the interests of the South——"</p> + +<p>"And by 'interests of the South' you mean?"</p> + +<p>"The best interest of all the people without regard to race or color!"</p> + +<p>Norton smiled:</p> + +<p>"You forgot part of the pass-word of your order, professor! The whole +clause used to read, 'race, color or previous condition of servitude'——"</p> + +<p>The sneer was lost on the professor. He was too intent on his mission.</p> + +<p>"I have called, Major Norton," he went on glibly, "to inform you that my +distinguished associates in the great Educational Movement in the South +view with increasing alarm the tendency of your paper to continue the +agitation of the so-called negro problem."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask by whose authority your distinguished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> associates have been +set up as the arbiters of the destiny of twenty millions of white citizens +of the South?"</p> + +<p>The professor flushed with amazement at the audacity of such a question:</p> + +<p>"They have given millions to the cause of education, sir! These great Funds +represent to-day a power that is becoming more and more resistless——"</p> + +<p>Norton sprang to his feet and faced Magraw with eyes flashing:</p> + +<p>"That's why I haven't minced matters in my references to you, professor. +That's why I'm getting ready to strike a blow in the cause of racial purity +for which my paper stands."</p> + +<p>"But why continue to rouse the bitterness of racial feeling? The question +will settle itself if let alone."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"By the process of evolution——"</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" Norton thundered. "And by that you mean the gradual breaking +down of racial barriers and the degradation of our people to a mongrel +negroid level or you mean nothing! No miracle of evolution can gloss over +the meaning of such a tragedy. The Negro is the lowest of all human forms, +four thousand years below the standard of the pioneer white Aryan who +discovered this continent and peopled it with a race of empire builders. +The gradual mixture of our blood with his can only result in the extinction +of National character—a calamity so appalling the mind of every patriot +refuses to accept for a moment its possibility."</p> + +<p>"I am not advocating such a mixture!" the professor mildly protested.</p> + +<p>"In so many words, no," retorted Norton; "yet you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> are setting in motion +forces that make it inevitable, as certain as life, as remorseless as +death. When you demand that the patriot of the South let the Negro alone to +work out his own destiny, you know that the mere physical contact of two +such races is a constant menace to white civilization——"</p> + +<p>The professor raised the delicate, tapering hands:</p> + +<p>"The old nightmare of negro domination is only a thing with which to +frighten children, major, the danger is a myth——"</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" Norton sneered. "When our people saw the menace of an emancipated +slave suddenly clothed with the royal power of a ballot they met this +threat against the foundations of law and order by a counter revolution and +restored a government of the wealth, virtue and intelligence of the +community. What they have not yet seen, is the more insidious danger that +threatens the inner home life of a Democratic nation from the physical +contact of two such races."</p> + +<p>"And you propose to prevent that contact?" the piping voice asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask how?"</p> + +<p>"By an ultimate complete separation through a process covering perhaps two +hundred years——"</p> + +<p>The professor laughed:</p> + +<p>"Visionary—impossible!"</p> + +<p>"All right," Norton slowly replied. "I see the invisible and set myself to +do the impossible. Because men have done such things the world moves +forward not backward!"</p> + +<p>The lavender hose moved stealthily:</p> + +<p>"You will advocate this?" the professor asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In due time. The Southern white man and woman still labor under the old +delusion that the negro's lazy, slipshod ways are necessary and that we +could not get along without him——"</p> + +<p>"And if you dare to antagonize that faith?"</p> + +<p>"When your work is done, professor, and the glorious results of Evolution +are shown to mean the giving in marriage of our sons and daughters, my task +will be easy. In the mean time I'll do the work at hand. The negro is still +a voter. The devices by which he is prevented from using the power to which +his numbers entitle him are but temporary. The first real work before the +statesmen of the South is the disfranchisement of the African, the repeal +of the Fifteenth Amendment to our Constitution and the restoration of +American citizenship to its original dignity and meaning."</p> + +<p>"A large undertaking," the professor glibly observed. "And you will dare +such a program?"</p> + +<p>"I'll at least strike a blow for it. The first great crime against the +purity of our racial stock was the mixture of blood which the physical +contact of slavery made inevitable.</p> + +<p>"But the second great crime, and by far the most tragic and disastrous, was +the insane Act of Congress inspired by the passions of the Reconstruction +period by which a million ignorant black men, but yesterday from the +jungles of Africa, were clothed with the full powers of citizenship under +the flag of Democracy and given the right by the ballot to rule a superior +race.</p> + +<p>"The Act of Emancipation was a war measure pure and simple. By that act +Lincoln sought to strike the South as a political power a mortal blow. He +did not free four million negroes for sentimental reasons. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> destroyed +four billion dollars' worth of property invested in slaves as an act of war +to save the Union. Nothing was further from his mind or heart than the mad +idea that these Africans could be assimilated into our National life. He +intended to separate the races and give the Negro a nation of his own. But +the hand of a madman struck the great leader down in the hour of his +supreme usefulness.</p> + +<p>"In the anarchy which followed the assassination of the President and the +attempt of a daring coterie of fanatics in Washington to impeach his +successor and create a dictatorship, the great crime against Democracy was +committed. Millions of black men, with the intelligence of children and the +instincts of savages, were given full and equal citizenship with the breed +of men who created the Republic.</p> + +<p>"Any plan to solve intelligently the problem of the races must first +correct this blunder from which a stream of poison has been pouring into +our life.</p> + +<p>"The first step in the work of separating the races, therefore, must be to +deprive the negro of this enormous power over Democratic society. It is not +a solution of the problem, but as the great blunder was the giving of this +symbol of American kingship, our first task is to take it from him and +restore the ballot to its original sanctity."</p> + +<p>"Your movement will encounter difficulties, I foresee!" observed the +professor with a gracious smile.</p> + +<p>He was finding his task with Norton easier than he anticipated. The +editor's madness was evidently so hopeless he had only to deliver his +ultimatum and close the interview.</p> + +<p>"The difficulties are great," Norton went on with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> renewed emphasis, "but +less than they have been for the past twenty years. Until yesterday the +negro was the ward of the Nation. Any movement by a Southern state to +remove his menace was immediately met by a call to arms to defend the Union +by Northern demagogues who had never smelled powder when the Union was in +danger.</p> + +<p>"A foolish preacher in Boston who enjoys a National reputation has been in +the habit of rousing his hearers to a round of cheers by stamping his foot, +lifting hands above his head and yelling:</p> + +<p>"'The only way to save the Union now is for Northern mothers to rear more +children than Southern mothers!'</p> + +<p>"And the sad part of it is that thousands of otherwise sane people in New +England and other sections of the North and West believed this idiotic +statement to be literally true. It is no longer possible to fool them with +such chaff——"</p> + +<p>The professor rose and shook out his finely creased trousers until the +lavender hose scarcely showed:</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, Major Norton, that it is useless for us to continue this +discussion. You are quite determined to maintain the policy of your paper +on this point?"</p> + +<p>"Quite."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry. The <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i> is a very powerful influence in this +state. The distinguished associates whom I represent sent me in the vain +hope that I might persuade you to drop the agitation of this subject and +join with us in developing the material and educational needs of the +South——"</p> + +<p>Norton laughed aloud:</p> + +<p>"Really, professor?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + +<p>The visitor flushed at the marked sneer in his tones, and fumbled his +lavender tie:</p> + +<p>"I can only deliver to you our ultimatum, therefore——"</p> + +<p>"You are clothed with sovereign powers, then?" the editor asked +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"If you choose to designate them so—yes. Unless you agree to drop this +dangerous and useless agitation of the negro question and give our people a +hearing in the columns of your paper, I am authorized to begin at once the +publication of a journal that will express the best sentiment of the +South——"</p> + +<p>"So?"</p> + +<p>"And I have unlimited capital to back it."</p> + +<p>Norton's eyes flashed as he squared himself before the professor:</p> + +<p>"I've not a doubt of your backing. Start your paper to-morrow if you like. +You'll find that it takes more than money to build a great organ of public +opinion in the South. I've put my immortal soul into this plant. I'll watch +your experiment with interest."</p> + +<p>"Thank you! Thank you," the thin voice piped.</p> + +<p>"And now that we understand each other," Norton went on, "you've given me +the chance to say a few things to you and your associates I've been wanting +to express for a long time——"</p> + +<p>Norton paused and fixed his visitor with an angry stare:</p> + +<p>"Not only is the Negro gaining in numbers, in wealth and in shallow +'culture,' and tightening his grip on the soil as the owner in fee simple +of thousands of homes, churches, schools and farms, but a Negroid party has +once more developed into a powerful and sinister influence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> on the life of +this state! You and your associates are loud in your claims to represent a +new South. In reality you are the direct descendants of the Reconstruction +Scalawag and Carpetbagger.</p> + +<p>"The old Scalawag was the Judas Iscariot who sold his people for thirty +pieces of silver which he got by licking the feet of his conqueror and +fawning on his negro allies. The Carpetbagger was a Northern adventurer who +came South to prey on the misfortunes of a ruined people. A new and far +more dangerous order of Scalawags has arisen—the man who boldly preaches +the omnipotence of the dollar and weighs every policy of state or society +by one standard only, will it pay in dollars and cents? And so you frown on +any discussion of the tragic problem the negro's continued pressure on +Southern society involves because it disturbs business.</p> + +<p>"The unparalleled growth of wealth in the North has created our enormous +Poor Funds, organized by generous well-meaning men for the purpose of +education in the South. As a matter of fact, this new educational movement +had its origin in the same soil that established negro classical schools +and attempted to turn the entire black race into preachers, lawyers, and +doctors just after the war. Your methods, however, are wiser, although your +policies are inspired, if not directed, by the fertile brain of a notorious +negro of doubtful moral character.</p> + +<p>"The directors of your Poor Funds profess to be the only true friends of +the true white man of the South. By a 'true white man of the South' you +mean a man who is willing to show his breadth of vision by fraternizing +occasionally with negroes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p> + +<p>"An army of lickspittles have begun to hang on the coat-tails of your +dispensers of alms. Their methods are always the same. They attempt to +attract the notice of the Northern distributors by denouncing men of my +type who are earnestly, fearlessly and reverently trying to face and solve +the darkest problem the centuries have presented to America. These little +beggars have begun to vie with one another not only in denouncing the +leaders of public opinion in the South, but in fulsome and disgusting +fawning at the feet of the individual negro whose personal influence +dominates these Funds."</p> + +<p>Again the lavender socks moved uneasily.</p> + +<p>"In which category you place the author of a certain book, I suppose?" +inquired the professor.</p> + +<p>"I paused in the hope that you might not miss my meaning," Norton replied, +smiling. "The astounding power for the debasement of public opinion +developing through these vast corruption funds is one of the most sinister +influences which now threatens Southern society. It is the most difficult +of all to meet because its protestations are so plausible and +philanthropic.</p> + +<p>"The Carpetbagger has come back to the South. This time he is not a low +adventurer seeking coin and public office. He is a philanthropist who +carries hundreds of millions of dollars to be distributed to the 'right' +men who will teach Southern boys and girls the 'right' ideas. So far as +these 'right' ideas touch the negro, they mean the ultimate complete +acceptance of the black man as a social equal.</p> + +<p>"Your chief spokesman of this New Order of Carpetbag, for example, has +declared on many occasions that the one thing in his life of which he is +most proud is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> the fact that he is the personal friend of the negro whose +influence now dominates your dispensers of alms! This man positively +grovels with joy when his distinguished black friend honors him by becoming +his guest in New York.</p> + +<p>"With growing rage and wonder I have watched the development of this modern +phenomenon. I have fought you with sullen and unyielding fury from the +first, and you have proven the most dangerous and insidious force I have +encountered. You profess the loftiest motives and the highest altruism +while the effects of your work can only be the degradation of the white +race to an ultimate negroid level, to say nothing of the appalling results +if you really succeed in pauperizing the educational system of the South!</p> + +<p>"I expected to hear from your crowd when the movement for a white ballot +was begun. Through you the society of Affiliated Black League Almoners of +the South, under the direction of your inspired negro leader, have sounded +the alarm. And now all the little pigs who are feeding on this swill, and +all the hungry ones yet outside the fence and squealing to get in, will +unite in a chorus that you hope can have but one result—the division of +the white race on a vital issue affecting its purity, its integrity, and +its future.</p> + +<p>"The possible division of my race in its attitude toward the Negro is the +one big danger that has always hung its ugly menace over the South. So long +as her people stand united, our civilization can be protected against the +pressure of the Negro's growing millions. But the moment a serious division +of these forces occurs the black man's opportunity will be at hand. The +question is, can you divide the white race on this issue?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We shall see, major, we shall see," piped the professor, fumbling his +lavender tie and bowing himself out.</p> + +<p>The strong jaw closed with a snap as Norton watched the silk hose +disappear.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>HIS HOUSE IN ORDER</h3> + + +<p>Norton knew from the first that there could be no hope of success in such a +campaign as he had planned except in the single iron will of a leader who +would lead and whose voice lifted in impassioned appeal direct to the white +race in every county of the state could rouse them to resistless +enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The man who undertook this work must burn the bridges behind him, ask +nothing for himself and take his life daily in his hands. He knew the state +from the sea to its farthest mountain peak and without the slightest vanity +felt that God had called him to this task. There was no other man who could +do it, no other man fitted for it. He had the training, bitter experience, +and the confidence of the people. And he had no ambitions save a deathless +desire to serve his country in the solution of its greatest and most +insoluble problem. He edited the most powerful organ of public opinion in +the South and he was an eloquent and forceful speaker. His paper had earned +a comfortable fortune, he was independent, he had the training of a veteran +soldier and physical fear was something he had long since ceased to know.</p> + +<p>And his house was in order for the event. He could leave for months in +confidence that the work would run with the smoothness of a clock.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had sent Tom to a Northern university which had kept itself clean from +the stain of negro associations. The boy had just graduated with honor, +returned home and was at work in the office. He was a handsome, clean, +manly, straight-limbed, wholesome boy, the pride of his father's heart, and +had shown decided talent for newspaper work.</p> + +<p>Andy had long since become his faithful henchman, butler and man of all +work. Aunt Minerva, his fat, honest cook, was the best servant he had ever +known, and Cleo kept his house.</p> + +<p>The one point of doubt was Cleo. During the past year she had given +unmistakable signs of a determination to fight. If she should see fit to +strike in the midst of this campaign, her blow would be a crushing one. It +would not only destroy him personally, it would confuse and crush his party +in hopeless defeat. He weighed this probability from every point of view +and the longer he thought it over the less likely it appeared that she +would take such a step. She would destroy herself and her child as well. +She knew him too well now to believe that he would ever yield in such a +struggle. Helen was just graduating from a convent school in the Northwest, +a beautiful and accomplished girl, and the last thing on earth she could +suspect was that a drop of negro blood flowed in her veins. He knew Cleo +too well, understood her hatred of negroes too well, to believe that she +would deliberately push this child back into a negroid hell merely to wreak +a useless revenge that would crush her own life as well. She was too wise, +too cunning, too cautious.</p> + +<p>And yet her steadily growing desperation caused him to hesitate. The thing +he dreaded most was the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> loss of his boy's respect, which a last desperate +fight with this woman would involve. The one thing he had taught Tom was +racial cleanness. With a wisdom inspired and guided by the brooding spirit +of his mother he had done this thoroughly. He had so instilled into this +proud, sensitive boy's soul a hatred for all low association with women +that it was inconceivable to him that any decent white man would stoop to +an intrigue with a woman of negro blood. The withering scorn, the +unmeasured contempt with which he had recently expressed himself to his +father on this point had made the red blood slowly mount to the older man's +face.</p> + +<p>He had rather die than look into this boy's clean, manly eyes and confess +the shame that would blacken his life. The boy loved him with a deep, +tender, reverent love. His keen eyes had long ago seen the big traits in +his father's character. The boy's genuine admiration was the sweetest thing +in his lonely life.</p> + +<p>He weighed every move with care and deliberately made up his mind to strike +the blow and take the chances. No man had the right to weigh his personal +career against the life of a people—certainly no man who dared to assume +the leadership of a race. He rose from his desk, opened the door of the +reporters' room and called Tom.</p> + +<p>The manly young figure, in shirt sleeves, pad and pencil in hand, entered +with quick, firm step.</p> + +<p>"You want me to interview you, Governor?" he said with a laugh. "All +right—now what do you think of that little scrimmage at the mouth of the +harbor of Santiago yesterday? How's that for a Fourth of July celebration? +I ask it of a veteran of the Confederate army?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p> + +<p>The father smiled proudly as the youngster pretended to be taking notes of +his imaginary interview.</p> + +<p>"You heard, sir," he went on eagerly, "that your old General, Joe Wheeler, +was there and in a moment of excitement forgot himself and shouted to his +aid:</p> + +<p>"'There go the damned Yankees!—charge and give 'em hell!'"</p> + +<p>A dreamy look came into the father's eyes as he interrupted:</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't be surprised if Wheeler said it—anyhow, it's too good a joke +to doubt"—he paused and the smile on his serious face slowly faded.</p> + +<p>"Shut the door, Tom," he said with a gesture toward the reporters' room.</p> + +<p>The boy rose, closed the door, and sat down near his father's chair:</p> + +<p>"Well, Dad, why so serious? Am I to be fired without a chance? or is it +just a cut in my wages? Don't prolong the agony!"</p> + +<p>"I am going to put you in my chair in this office, my son," the father said +in a slow drawl. The boy flushed scarlet and then turned pale.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it—now?" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow."</p> + +<p>"You think I can make good?" The question came through trembling lips and +he was looking at his father through a pair of dark blue eyes blurred by +tears of excitement.</p> + +<p>"You'll do better than I did at your age. You're better equipped."</p> + +<p>"You think so?" Tom asked in quick boyish eagerness.</p> + +<p>"I know it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy sprang to his feet and grasped his father's hand:</p> + +<p>"Your faith in me is glorious—it makes me feel like I can do anything——"</p> + +<p>"You can—if you try."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I can, it's because I've got good blood in me. I owe it all to +you. You're the biggest man I ever met, Dad. I've wanted to say this to you +for a long time, but I never somehow got up my courage to tell you what I +thought of you."</p> + +<p>The father slipped his arm tenderly about the boy and looked out the window +at the bright Southern sky for a moment before he slowly answered:</p> + +<p>"I'd rather hear that from you, Tom, than the shouts of the rest of the +world."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to do my level best to prove myself worthy of the big faith +you've shown in me—but why have you done it? What does it mean?"</p> + +<p>"Simply this, my boy, that the time has come in the history of the South +for a leader to strike the first blow in the battle for racial purity by +establishing a clean American citizenship. I am going to disfranchise the +Negro in this state as the first step toward the ultimate complete +separation of the races."</p> + +<p>The boy's eyes flashed:</p> + +<p>"It's a big undertaking, sir."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?"</p> + +<p>"Many say not. That's why I'm going to do it. The real work must come after +this first step. Just now the campaign which I'm going to inaugurate +to-morrow in a speech at the mass meeting celebrating our victory at +Santiago, is the thing in hand. This campaign will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> take me away from home +for several months. I must have a man here whom I can trust implicitly."</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best, sir," the boy broke in.</p> + +<p>"In case anything happens to me before it ends——"</p> + +<p>Tom bent close:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You never can tell what may happen in such a revolution——"</p> + +<p>"It will be a revolution?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. That's what my enemies as yet do not understand. They will not be +prepared for the weapons I shall use. And I'll win. I may lose my life, but +I'll start a fire that can't be put out until it has swept the state—the +South"—he paused—"and then the Nation!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>THE MAN OF THE HOUR</h3> + + +<p>The editor prepared to launch his campaign with the utmost care. He invited +the Executive Committee of his party to meet in his office. The leaders +were excited. They knew Norton too well to doubt that he had something big +to suggest. Some of them came from distant sections of the state, three +hundred miles away, to hear his plans.</p> + +<p>He faced the distinguished group of leaders calmly, but every man present +felt the deep undercurrent of excitement beneath his words.</p> + +<p>"With your coöperation, gentlemen," he began, "we are going to sweep the +state this time by an overwhelming majority——"</p> + +<p>"That's the way to talk!" the Chairman shouted.</p> + +<p>"Four years ago," he went on, "we were defeated for the first time since +the overthrow of the negro government under the Reconstruction régime. This +defeat was brought about by a division of the whites under the Socialistic +program of the Farmers' Alliance. Gradually the black man has forced +himself into power under the new régime. Our farmers only wished his votes +to accomplish their plans and have no use for him as an officeholder. The +rank and file of the white wing, therefore, of the allied party in power, +are ripe for revolt if the Negro is made an issue.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>"</p> + +<p>The Committee cheered.</p> + +<p>"I propose to make the Negro the only issue of this campaign. There will be +no half-way measures, no puling hesitation, no weakness, and it will be a +fight to the death in the open. The day for secret organizations has gone +in Southern history. There is no Black League to justify a reorganization +of the Klan. But the new Black League has a far more powerful organization. +Its mask is now philanthropy, not patriotism. Its weapon is the lure of +gold, not the flash of Federal bayonets. They will fight to divide the +white race on this vital issue.</p> + +<p>"Here is our danger. It is real. It is serious. But we must meet it. There +is but one way, and that is to conduct a campaign of such enthusiasm, of +such daring and revolutionary violence if need be, that the little henchmen +and sycophants of the Dispensers of the National Poor Funds will be awed +into silence.</p> + +<p>"The leadership of such a campaign will be a dangerous one. I offer you my +services without conditions. I ask nothing for myself. I will accept no +honors. I offer you my time, my money, my paper, my life if need be!"</p> + +<p>The leaders rose as one man, grasped Norton's hand, and placed him in +command.</p> + +<p>No inkling of even the outlines of his radical program was allowed to leak +out until the hour of the meeting of the party convention. The delegates +were waiting anxiously for the voice of a leader who would sound the note +of victory.</p> + +<p>And when the platform was read to the convention declaring in simple, bold +words that the time had come for the South to undo the crime of the +Fifteenth Amendment,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> disfranchise the Negro and restore to the Nation the +basis of white civilization, a sudden cheer like a peal of thunder swept +the crowd, followed by the roar of a storm. It died away at last in waves +of excited comment, rose again and swelled and rose higher and higher until +the old wooden building trembled.</p> + +<p>Again and again such assemblies had declared in vague terms for "White +Supremacy." Campaign after campaign which followed the blight of negro rule +twenty years before had been fought and won on this issue. But no man or +party had dared to whisper what "White Supremacy" really meant. There was +no fog about this platform. For the first time in the history of the party +it said exactly what was meant in so many words.</p> + +<p>Thoughtful men had long been weary of platitudes on this subject. The Negro +had grown enormously in wealth, in numbers and in social power in the past +two decades. As a full-fledged citizen in a Democracy he was a constant +menace to society. Here, for the first time, was the announcement of a +definite program. It was revolutionary. It meant the revision of the +constitution of the Union and a challenge to the negro race, and all his +sentimental allies in the Republic for a fight to a finish.</p> + +<p>The effect of its bare reading was electric. The moment the Chairman tried +to lift his voice the cheers were renewed. The hearts of the people had +been suddenly thrilled by a great ideal. No matter whether it meant success +or failure, no matter whether it meant fame or oblivion for the man who +proposed it, every intelligent delegate in that hall knew instinctively +that a great mind had spoken a bold principle that must win in the end if +the Republic live.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton rose at last to advocate its adoption as the one issue of the +campaign, and again pandemonium broke loose—now they knew that he had +written it! They suspected it from the first. Instantly his name was on a +thousand lips in a shout that rent the air.</p> + +<p>He stood with his tall figure drawn to its full height, his face unearthly +pale, wreathed in its heavy shock of iron-gray hair and waited, without +recognizing the tumult, until the last shout had died away.</p> + +<p>His speech was one of passionate and fierce appeal—the voice of the +revolutionist who had boldly thrown off the mask and called his followers +to battle.</p> + +<p>Yet through it all, the big unspoken thing behind his words was the magic +that really swayed his hearers. They felt that what he said was great, but +that he could say something greater if he would. As he had matured in years +he had developed this reserved power. All who came in personal touch with +the man felt it instinctively with his first word. An audience, with its +simpler collective intelligence, felt it overwhelmingly. Yet if he had +dared reveal to this crowd the ideas seething in his brain behind the +simple but bold political proposition, he could not have carried them with +him. They were not ready for it. He knew that to merely take the ballot +from the negro and allow him to remain in physical touch with the white +race was no solution of the problem. But he was wise enough to know that +but one step could be taken at a time in a great movement to separate +millions of blacks from the entanglements of the life of two hundred years.</p> + +<p>His platform expressed what he believed could be accomplished, and the +convention at the conclusion of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> his eloquent speech adopted it by +acclamation amid a scene of wild enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>He refused all office, except the position of Chairman of the Executive +Committee without pay, and left the hall the complete master of the +politics of his party.</p> + +<p>Little did he dream in this hour of triumph the grim tragedy the day's work +had prepared in his own life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>A WOMAN SCORNED</h3> + + +<p>As the time drew near for Norton to take the field in the campaign whose +fierce passions would mark a new era in the state's history, his uneasiness +over the attitude of Cleo increased.</p> + +<p>She had received the announcement of his approaching long absence with +sullen anger. And as the purpose of the campaign gradually became clear she +had watched him with growing suspicion and hate. He felt it in every glance +she flashed from the depth of her greenish eyes.</p> + +<p>Though she had never said it in so many words, he was sure that the last +hope of a resumption of their old relations was fast dying in her heart, +and that the moment she realized that he was lost to her would be the +signal for a desperate attack. What form the attack would take he could +only guess. He was sure it would be as deadly as her ingenuity could +invent. Yet in the wildest flight of his imagination he never dreamed the +daring thing she had really decided to do.</p> + +<p>On the night before his departure he was working late in his room at the +house. The office he had placed in Tom's hands before the meeting of the +convention. The boy's eager young face just in front of him when he made +his speech that day had been an inspiration. It had beamed with pride and +admiration, and when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> his father's name rang from every lip in the great +shout that shook the building Tom's eyes had filled with tears.</p> + +<p>Norton was seated at his typewriter, which he had moved to his room, +writing his final instructions. The last lines he put in caps:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Under no conceivable circumstances annoy me with anything +that happens at home, unless a matter of immediate life and +death, anything else can wait until my return.</span>"</p></div> + +<p>He had just finished this important sentence when the sound of a footstep +behind his chair caused him to turn suddenly.</p> + +<p>Cleo had entered the room and stood glaring at him with a look of sullen +defiance.</p> + +<p>By a curious coincidence or by design, she was dressed in a scarlet kimono +of the same shade of filmy Japanese stuff as the one she wore in his young +manhood. His quick eye caught this fact in a flash and his mind took rapid +note of the changes the years had wrought. Their burdens had made slight +impression on her exhaustless vitality. Whatever might be her personality +or her real character, she was alive from the crown of her red head to the +tips of her slippered toes.</p> + +<p>Her attitude of tense silence sparkled with this vital power more +eloquently than when she spoke with quick energy in the deep voice that was +her most remarkable possession.</p> + +<p>Her figure was heavier by twenty pounds than when she had first entered his +home, but she never produced the impression of stoutness. Her form was too +sinuous, pliant and nervous to take on flesh. She was no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> longer the +graceful girl of eighteen whose beauty had drugged his senses, but she was +beyond all doubt a woman of an extraordinary type, luxuriant, sensuous, +dominant. There was not a wrinkle on her smooth creamy skin nor a trace of +approaching age about the brilliant greenish eyes that were gazing into his +now with such grim determination.</p> + +<p>He wheeled from his machine and faced her, his eyes taking in with a quick +glance the evident care with which she had arranged her hair and the +startling manner in which she was dressed.</p> + +<p>He spoke with sharp, incisive emphasis:</p> + +<p>"It was a condition of your return that you should never enter my room +while I am in this house."</p> + +<p>"I have not forgotten," she answered firmly, her eyes holding his steadily.</p> + +<p>"Why have you dared?"</p> + +<p>"You are still afraid of me?" she asked with a light laugh that was half a +sneer.</p> + +<p>"Have I given you any such evidence during the past twenty years?"</p> + +<p>There was no bitterness or taunt in the even, slow drawl with which he +spoke, but the woman knew that he never used the slow tone with which he +uttered those words except he was deeply moved.</p> + +<p>She flushed, was silent and then answered with a frown:</p> + +<p>"No, you haven't shown any fear for something more than twenty years—until +a few days ago."</p> + +<p>The last clause she spoke very quickly as she took a step closer and +paused.</p> + +<p>"A few days ago?" he repeated slowly.</p> + +<p>"Yes. For the past week you <i>have</i> been afraid of me—not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> in the sense I +asked you just now perhaps"—her white teeth showed in two even perfect +rows—"but you have been watching me out of the corners of your +eyes—haven't you?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why?"</p> + +<p>"And you haven't guessed?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I'm going to find out."</p> + +<p>"You haven't asked."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to."</p> + +<p>"Be quick about it!"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to find out—that's why I came in here to-night in defiance of +your orders."</p> + +<p>"All right—the quicker the better!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you, I'm not in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"What do you want?" he demanded with anger.</p> + +<p>She smiled tauntingly:</p> + +<p>"It's no use to get mad about it! I'm here now, you see that I'm not afraid +of you and I'm quite sure that you will not put me out until I'm ready to +go——"</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet and advanced on her:</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of that!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I am," she cried, holding his gaze steadily.</p> + +<p>He threw up his hands with a gesture of disgust and resumed his seat:</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>She crossed the room deliberately, carrying a chair in front of her, sat +down, leaned her elbow on his table and studied him a moment, their eyes +meeting in a gaze of deadly hostility.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this long absence you have planned?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have charge of this campaign. I am going to speak in every county in the +state."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Because I'll win that way, by a direct appeal to the people."</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to win?"</p> + +<p>"Because I generally do what I undertake."</p> + +<p>"Why do you want to do this thing?"</p> + +<p>He looked at her in amazement. Her eyes had narrowed to the tiniest lines +as she asked these questions with a steadily increasing intensity.</p> + +<p>"What are you up to?" he asked her abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I want to know why you began this campaign at all?"</p> + +<p>"I decline to discuss the question with you," he answered abruptly.</p> + +<p>"I insist on it!"</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't know what I was talking about," he replied with contempt.</p> + +<p>"I think I would."</p> + +<p>"Bah!"</p> + +<p>He turned from her with a wave of angry dismissal, seized his papers and +began to read again his instructions to Tom.</p> + +<p>"I'm not such a fool as you think," she began menacingly. "I've read your +platform with some care and I've been thinking it over at odd times since +your speech was reported."</p> + +<p>"And you contemplate entering politics?" he interrupted with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Who knows?"</p> + +<p>She watched him keenly while she slowly uttered these words and saw the +flash of uneasiness cross his face,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> "But don't worry," she laughed.</p> + +<p>"I'll not!"</p> + +<p>"You may for all that!" she sneered, "but I'll not enter politics as you +fear. That would be too cheap. I don't care what you do to negroes. I've a +drop of their blood in me——"</p> + +<p>"One in eight, to be exact."</p> + +<p>"But I'm not one of them, except by your laws, and I hate the sight of a +negro. You can herd them, colonize them, send them back to Africa or to the +devil for all I care. Your program interests me for another reason"—she +paused and watched him intently.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" he said carelessly.</p> + +<p>"It interests me for one reason only—you wrote that platform, you made +that speech, you carried that convention. Your man Friday is running for +Governor. You are going to take the stump, carry this election and take the +ballot from the Negro!"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I'm excited about it merely because it shows the inside of your mind."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. It shows either that you are afraid of me or that you're not——"</p> + +<p>"It couldn't well show both," he interrupted with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"It might," she answered. "If you are afraid of me and my presence is the +cause of this outburst, all right. I'll still play the game with you and +win or lose. I'll take my chances. But if you're not afraid of me, if +you've really not been on your guard for twenty years, it means another +thing. It means that you've learned your lesson, that the book of the past +is closed, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> that you have simply been waiting for the time to come to +do this thing and save your people from a danger before which you once +fell."</p> + +<p>"And which horn of the dilemma do you take?" he asked coldly.</p> + +<p>"I haven't decided—but I will to-night."</p> + +<p>"How interesting!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, isn't it?" she leaned close. "With a patience that must have caused +you wonder, with a waiting through years as God waits, I have endured your +indifference, your coldness, your contempt. Each year I have counted the +last that you could resist the call of my body and soul, and at the end of +each year I have seen you further and further away from me and the gulf +between us deeper and darker. This absence you have planned in this +campaign means the end one way or the other. I'm going to face life now as +it is, not as I've hoped it might be."</p> + +<p>"I told you when you made your bargain to return to this house, that there +could be nothing between us except a hate that is eternal——"</p> + +<p>"And I didn't believe it! Now I'm going to face it if I must——"</p> + +<p>She paused, breathed deeply and her eyes were like glowing coals as she +slowly went on:</p> + +<p>"I'm not the kind to give up without a fight. I've lived and learned the +wisdom of caution and cunning. I'm not old and I've still a fool's +confidence in my powers. I'm not quite thirty-nine, strong and sound in +body and spirit, alive to my finger tips with the full blood of a grown +woman—and so I warn you——"</p> + +<p>"You warn me"—he cried with a flush of anger.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I warn you not to push me too far. I have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> negro blood in me, but I'm +at least human, and I'm going to be treated as a human being."</p> + +<p>"And may I ask what you mean by that?" he asked sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"That I'm going to demand my rights."</p> + +<p>"Demand?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly."</p> + +<p>"Your <i>rights</i>?"</p> + +<p>"The right to love——"</p> + +<p>Norton broke into a bitter, angry laugh:</p> + +<p>"Are you demanding that I marry you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not quite that big a fool. No. Your laws forbid it. All right—there +are higher laws than yours. The law that drew you to me in this room twenty +years ago, in spite of all your fears and your prejudices"—she paused and +her eyes glowed in the shadows—"I gave you my soul and body then——"</p> + +<p>"Gifts I never sought——"</p> + +<p>"Yet you took them and I'm here a part of your life. What are you going to +do with me? I'm not the negro race. I'm just a woman who loves you and asks +that you treat her fairly."</p> + +<p>"Treat you fairly! Did I ever want you? Or seek you? You came to me, thrust +yourself into my office, and when I discharged you, pushed your way into my +home. You won my boy's love and made my wife think you were indispensable +to her comfort and happiness. I tried to avoid you. It was useless. You +forced yourself into my presence at all hours of the day and night. What +happened was your desire, not mine. And when I reproached myself with +bitter curses you laughed for joy! And you talk to me to-day of fairness! +You who dragged me from that banquet hall the night of my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> triumph to hurl +me into despair! You who blighted my career and sent me blinded with grief +and shame groping through life with the shadow of death on my soul! You who +struck your bargain of a pound of flesh next to my heart, and fought your +way back into my house again to hold me a prisoner for life, chained to the +dead body of my shame—you talk to me about fairness—great God!"</p> + +<p>He stopped, strangled with passion, his tall figure towering above her, his +face livid, his hands clutched in rage.</p> + +<p>She laughed hysterically:</p> + +<p>"Why don't you strike! I'm not your equal in strength—I dare you to do +it—I dare you to do it! I <i>dare</i> you—do you hear?"</p> + +<p>With a sudden grip she tore the frail silk from its fastenings at her +throat, pressed close and thrust her angry face into his in a desperate +challenge to physical violence.</p> + +<p>His eyes held hers a moment and his hands relaxed:</p> + +<p>"I'd like to kill you. I could do it with joy!"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you?"</p> + +<p>"You're not worth the price of such a crime!"</p> + +<p>"You'd just as well do it, as to wish it. Don't be a coward!" Her eyes +burned with suppressed fire.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with cold anger and his lip twitched with a smile of +contempt.</p> + +<p>The strain was more than her nerves could bear. With a sob she threw her +arms around his neck. He seized them angrily, her form collapsed and she +clung to him with blind hysterical strength.</p> + +<p>He waited a moment and spoke in quiet determined tones:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 419px;"> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" width="419" height="650" alt=""'I dare you—do you hear?'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'I dare you—do you hear?'"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Enough of this now."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes to his, pleading with desperation:</p> + +<p>"Please be kind to me just this last hour before you go, and I'll be +content if you give no more. I'll never intrude again."</p> + +<p>She relaxed her hold, dropped to a seat and covered her face with her +hands:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God! Are you made of stone—have you no pity? Through all these +years I've gone in and out of this house looking into your face for a sign +that you thought me human, and you've given none. I've lived on the +memories of the few hours when you were mine. I've sometimes told myself it +was just a dream, that it never happened—until I've almost believed it. +You've pretended that it wasn't true. You've strangled these memories and +told yourself over and over again that it never happened. I've seen you +doing this—seen it in your cold, deep eyes. Well, it's a lie! You were +mine! You shall not forget it—you can't forget it—I won't let you, I tell +you!"</p> + +<p>The voice broke again into sobs.</p> + +<p>He stood with arms folded, watching her in silence. Her desperate appeal to +his memories and his physical passion had only stirred anger and contempt. +He was seeing now as he had never noticed before the growing marks of her +negroid character. The anger was for her, the contempt for himself. He +noticed the growth of her lips with age, the heavy sensual thickness of the +negroid type!</p> + +<p>It was inconceivable that in this room the sight of her had once stirred +the Beast in him to incontrollable madness. There was at least some +consolation in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> fact that he had made progress. He couldn't see this if +he hadn't moved to a higher plane.</p> + +<p>He spoke at length in quiet tones:</p> + +<p>"I am waiting for you to go. I have work to do to-night."</p> + +<p>She rose with a quick, angry movement:</p> + +<p>"It's all over, then. There's not a chance that you'll change your mind?"</p> + +<p>"Not if you were the last woman on earth and I the last man."</p> + +<p>He spoke without bitterness but with a firmness that was final.</p> + +<p>"All right. I know what to expect now and I'll plan my own life."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That there's going to be a change in my relations to your servants for one +thing."</p> + +<p>"Your relations to my servants?" he repeated incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"In what respect?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to take any more insolence from Minerva——"</p> + +<p>"Keep out of the kitchen and let her alone. She's the best cook I ever +had."</p> + +<p>"If I keep this house for you, I demand the full authority of my position. +I'll hire the servants and discharge them when I choose."</p> + +<p>"You'll do nothing of the kind," he answered firmly.</p> + +<p>"Then I demand that you discharge Minerva and Andy at once."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with Andy?"</p> + +<p>"I loathe him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I like him, and he's going to stay. Anything else?"</p> + +<p>"You'll pay no attention to my wishes?"</p> + +<p>"I'm master of this house."</p> + +<p>"And in your absence?"</p> + +<p>"My son will be here."</p> + +<p>"All right, I understand now."</p> + +<p>"If I haven't made it plain, I'll do so."</p> + +<p>"Quite clear, thank you," she answered slowly.</p> + +<p>Norton walked to the mantel, leaned his elbow on the shelf for a moment, +returned and confronted her with his hands thrust into his pockets, his +feet wide apart, his whole attitude one of cool defiance.</p> + +<p>"Now I want to know what you're up to? These absurd demands are a blind. +They haven't fooled me. There's something else in the back of your devilish +mind. What is it? I want to know exactly what you mean?"</p> + +<p>Cleo laughed a vicious little ripple of amusement:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know you do—but you won't!"</p> + +<p>"All right, as you please. A word from you and Helen's life is blasted. A +word from you and I withdraw from this campaign, and another will lead it. +Speak that word if you dare, and I'll throw you out of this house and your +last hold on my life is broken."</p> + +<p>"I've thought of that, too," she said with a smile.</p> + +<p>"It will be worth the agony I'll endure," he cried, "to know that I'm free +of you and breathe God's clean air at last!"</p> + +<p>He spoke the words with an earnestness, a deep and bitter sincerity, that +was not lost on her keen ears.</p> + +<p>She started to reply, hesitated and was silent.</p> + +<p>He saw his advantage and pressed it:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want you to understand fully that I know now and I have always known +that I am at your mercy when you see fit to break the word you pledged. Yet +there has never been a moment during the past twenty years that I've been +really afraid of you. When the hour comes for my supreme humiliation, I'll +meet it. Speak as soon as you like."</p> + +<p>She had walked calmly to the door, paused and looked back:</p> + +<p>"You needn't worry, major," she said smoothly, "I'm not quite such a fool +as all that. I've been silent too many years. It's a habit I'll not easily +break." Her white teeth gleamed in a cold smile as she added:</p> + +<p>"Good night."</p> + +<p>A hundred times he told himself that she wouldn't dare, but he left home +next lay with a sickening fear slowly stealing into his heart.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>AN OLD COMEDY</h3> + + +<p>Norton had scarcely passed his gate on the way to catch the train when Cleo +left the window, where her keen eyes had been watching, and made her way +rapidly to the room he had just vacated.</p> + +<p>Books and papers were scattered loosely over his table beside the +typewriter which he had, with his usual carelessness, left open.</p> + +<p>With a quick decision she seated herself beside the machine and in two +hours sufficiently mastered its use to write a letter by using a single +finger and carefully touching the keys one by one.</p> + +<p>The light of a cunning purpose burned in her eyes as she held up the letter +which she had written on a sheet paper with the embossed heading of his +home address at the top.</p> + +<p>She re-read it, smiling over the certainty of the success of her plan. The +letter was carefully and simply worded:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My Dear Miss Helen:</span></p> + +<p>"As your guardian is still in Europe, I feel it my duty, and +a pleasant one, to give you a glimpse of the South before +you go abroad. Please come at once to my home for as long as +you care to stay. If I am away in the campaign<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> when you +arrive, my son and housekeeper, Cleo, will make you at home +and I trust happy.</p> + +<p>"With kindest regards, and hoping to see you soon,</p> + +<p class="sig"> +"Sincerely,<br /> +<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Daniel Norton.</span>"<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>The signature she practiced with a pen for half an hour until her imitation +was almost perfect and then signed it. Satisfied with the message, she +addressed an envelope to "Miss Helen Winslow, Convent of the Sacred Heart, +Racine, Wisconsin," sealed and posted it with her own hand.</p> + +<p>The answer came six days later. Cleo recognized the post mark at once, +broke the seal and read it with dancing eyes:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My Dear Major Norton:</span></p> + +<p>"I am wild with joy over your kind invitation. As my last +examinations are over I will not wait for the Commencement +exercises. I am so excited over this trip I just can't wait. +I am leaving day after to-morrow and hope to arrive almost +as soon as this letter.</p> + +<p>"With a heart full of gratitude,</p> + +<p class="sig"> +"Your lonely ward,<br /> +<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Helen.</span>"<br /> +</p> +</div> + +<p>Two days later a hack rolled up the graveled walk to the white porch, a +girl leaped out and bounded up the steps, her cheeks flushed, her wide open +blue eyes dancing with excitement.</p> + +<p>She was evidently surprised to find that Cleo was an octoroon, blushed and +extended her hand with a timid hesitating look:</p> + +<p>"This—this—is Cleo—the major's housekeeper?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The quick eye of the woman took in at a glance the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> charm of the shy +personality and the loneliness of the young soul that looked out from her +expressive eyes.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered mechanically.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry that the major's away—the driver told me——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all right," Cleo said with a smile, "he wrote us to make you feel +at home. Just walk right in, your room is all ready."</p> + +<p>"Thank you so much," Helen responded, drawing a deep breath and looking +over the lawn with its green grass, its dense hedges and wonderful clusters +of roses in full bloom. "How beautiful the South is—far more beautiful +than I had dreamed! And the perfume of these roses—why, the air is just +drowsy with their honey! We have gorgeous roses in the North, but I never +smelled them in the open before"—she paused and breathed deeply again and +again—"Oh, it's fairyland—I'll never want to go!"</p> + +<p>"I hope you won't," Cleo said earnestly.</p> + +<p>"The major asked me to stay as long as I wished. I have his letter +here"—she drew the letter from her bag and opened it—"see what he says: +'Please come at once to my home for as long as you can stay'—now wasn't +that sweet of him?"</p> + +<p>"Very," was the strained reply.</p> + +<p>The girl's sensitive ear caught the queer note in Cleo's voice and looked +at her with a start.</p> + +<p>"Come, I must show you to your room," she added, hurriedly opening the door +for Helen to pass.</p> + +<p>The keen eyes of the woman were scanning the girl and estimating her +character with increasing satisfaction. She walked with exquisite grace. +Her figure was almost the exact counterpart of her own at twenty—Helen's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +a little fuller, the arms larger but more beautiful. The slender wrists and +perfectly moulded hand would have made a painter beg for a sitting. Her +eyes were deep blue and her hair the richest chestnut brown, massive and +slightly waving, her complexion the perfect white and red of the Northern +girl who had breathed the pure air of the fields and hills. The sure, +swift, easy way in which she walked told of perfect health and exhaustless +vitality. Her voice was low and sweet and full of shy tenderness.</p> + +<p>A smile of triumph flashed from Cleo's greenish eyes as she watched her +swiftly cross the hall toward the stairs.</p> + +<p>"I'll win!" she exclaimed softly.</p> + +<p>Helen turned sharply.</p> + +<p>"Did you speak to me?" she asked blushing.</p> + +<p>"No. I was just thinking aloud."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, I thought you said something to me—"</p> + +<p>"It would have been something very nice if I had," Cleo said with a +friendly smile.</p> + +<p>"Thank you—oh, I feel that I'm going to be so happy here!"</p> + +<p>"I hope so."</p> + +<p>"When do you think the major will come?"</p> + +<p>The woman's face clouded in spite of her effort at self-control:</p> + +<p>"It may be a month or more."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so anxious to see him! He has been acting for my old guardian, who +is somewhere abroad, ever since I can remember. I've begged and begged him +to come to see me, but he never came. It was so far away, I suppose. He +never even sent me his picture, though I've asked him often. What sort of a +man is he?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cleo smiled and hesitated, and then spoke with apparent carelessness:</p> + +<p>"A very striking looking man."</p> + +<p>"With a kind face?"</p> + +<p>"A very stern one, clean shaven, with deep set eyes, a firm mouth, a strong +jaw that can be cruel when he wishes, a shock of thick iron gray hair, +tall, very tall and well built. He weighs two hundred and fifteen now—he +was very thin when young."</p> + +<p>"And his voice?"</p> + +<p>"Gentle, but sometimes hard as steel when he wishes it to be."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll be scared to death when I see him! I had pictured him just the +opposite."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I hardly know—but I thought his voice would be always gentle like I +imagine a Southern father's who loved his children very much. And I thought +his hair would be blonde, with a kind face and friendly laughing +eyes—blue, like mine. His eyes aren't blue?"</p> + +<p>"Dark brown."</p> + +<p>"I know I'll run when he comes."</p> + +<p>"We'll make you feel at home and you'll not be afraid. Mr. Tom will be here +to lunch in a few minutes and I'll introduce you."</p> + +<p>"Then I must dress at once!"</p> + +<p>"The first door at the head of the stairs—your trunk has already been +taken up."</p> + +<p>Cleo watched the swift, strong, young form mount the stairs.</p> + +<p>"It's absolutely certain!" she cried under her breath. "I'll win—I'll +win!"</p> + +<p>She broke into a low laugh and hurried to set the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> table in a bower of the +sweetest roses that were in bloom. Their languorous odor filled the house.</p> + +<p>Helen was waiting in the old-fashioned parlor when Tom's step echoed on the +stoop. Cleo hurried to meet him on the porch.</p> + +<p>His face clouded with a scowl:</p> + +<p>"She's here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mr. Handsome Boy," Cleo answered cheerfully. "And lunch is ready—do +rub that awful scowl off your face and look like you're glad."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not—so what's the use? It'll be a mess to have a girl on my +hands day and night and I've got no time for it. I wish Dad was here. I +know I'll hate the sight of her."</p> + +<p>Cleo smiled:</p> + +<p>"Better wait until you see her."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?"</p> + +<p>"In the parlor."</p> + +<p>"All right—the quicker a disagreeable job's over the better."</p> + +<p>"Shall I introduce you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'll do it myself," he growled, bracing himself for the ordeal.</p> + +<p>As he entered the door he stopped short at the vision as Helen sprang to +her feet and came to meet him. She was dressed in the softest white filmy +stuff, as light as a feather, bare arms and neck, her blue eyes sparkling +with excitement, her smooth, fair cheeks scarlet with blushes.</p> + +<p>The boy's heart stopped beating in sheer surprise. He expected a frowzy +little waif from an orphanage, blear-eyed, sad, soulful and tiresome.</p> + +<p>This shining, blushing, wonderful creature took his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> breath. He stared at +first with open mouth, until Cleo's laugh brought him to his senses just as +he began to hear Helen's low sweet voice:</p> + +<p>"And this is Mr. Tom, I suppose? I am Helen Winslow, your father's ward, +from the West—at least he's all the guardian I've ever known."</p> + +<p>Tom grasped the warm little hand extended in so friendly greeting and held +it in dazed surprise until Cleo's low laughter again roused him.</p> + +<p>"Yes—I—I—am delighted to see you, Miss Helen, and I'm awfully sorry my +father couldn't be here to welcome you. I—I'll do the best I can for you +in his absence."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"You know you're not at all like I expected to find you," he said +hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>"I hope I haven't disappointed you," she answered demurely.</p> + +<p>"No—no"—he protested—"just the opposite."</p> + +<p>He stopped and blushed for fear he'd said too much.</p> + +<p>"And you're just the opposite from what I'd pictured you since Cleo told me +how your father looks."</p> + +<p>"And what did you expect?" he asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"A stern face, dark hair, dark eyes and a firm mouth."</p> + +<p>"And you find instead?"</p> + +<p>Helen laughed:</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you love flattery."</p> + +<p>Tom hurried to protest:</p> + +<p>"Really, I wasn't fishing for a compliment, but I'm so unlike my father, +it's a joke. I get my blonde hair and blue eyes from my mother and my +great-grandfather."</p> + +<p>Before he knew what was happening Tom was seated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> by her side talking and +laughing as if they had known each other a lifetime.</p> + +<p>Helen paused for breath, put her elbow on the old mahogany table, rested +her dimpled chin in the palm of her pretty hand and looked at Tom with a +mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's the joke?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Do you know that you're the first boy I ever talked to in my life?"</p> + +<p>"No—really?" he answered incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think I do pretty well?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"You see, I've played this scene so many times in my day dreams——"</p> + +<p>"And it's like your dream?"</p> + +<p>"Remarkably!"</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"You're just the kind of boy I always thought I'd meet first——"</p> + +<p>"How funny!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, exactly," she cried excitedly and with a serious tone in her voice +that was absolutely convincing. "You're so jolly and friendly and easy to +talk to, I feel as if I've known you all my life."</p> + +<p>"And I feel the same—isn't it funny?"</p> + +<p>They both laughed immoderately.</p> + +<p>"Come," the boy cried, "I want to show you my mother's and my grandfather's +portraits in the library. You'll see where I get my silly blonde hair, my +slightly pug nose and my very friendly ways."</p> + +<p>She rose with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Your nose isn't pug, it's just good-humored."</p> + +<p>"Amount to the same thing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And your hair is very distinguished looking for a boy. I'd envy it, if it +were a girl's."</p> + +<p>Tom led the way into the big, square library which opened on the pillared +porch both on the rear and on the side of the house. Before the fireplace +he paused and pointed to his mother's portrait done in oil by a famous +artist in New York.</p> + +<p>It was life-size and the canvas filled the entire space between the two +fluted columns of the Colonial mantel which reached to the ceiling. The +woodwork of the mantelpiece was of dark mahogany and the background of the +portrait the color of bright gold which seemed to melt into the lines of +the massive smooth gilded frame.</p> + +<p>The effect was wonderfully vivid and life-like in the sombre coloring of +the book-lined walls. The picture and frame seemed a living flame in its +dark setting. The portrait was an idealized study of the little mother. The +artist had put into his canvas the spirit of the tenderest brooding +motherhood. The very curve of her arms holding the child to her breast +seemed to breathe tenderness. The smile that played about her delicate lips +and blue eyes was ethereal in its fleeting spirit beauty.</p> + +<p>The girl caught her breath in surprise:</p> + +<p>"What a wonderful picture—it's perfectly divine! I feel like kneeling +before it."</p> + +<p>"It is an altar," the boy said reverently. "I've seen my father sit in that +big chair brooding for hours while he looked at it. And ever since he put +those two old gold candlesticks in front of it I can't get it out of my +head that he slips in here, kneels in the twilight and prays before it."</p> + +<p>"He must have loved your mother very tenderly," she said softly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I think he worships her still," the boy answered simply.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I could die for a man like that!" she cried with sudden passion.</p> + +<p>Tom pointed to his grandfather's portrait:</p> + +<p>"And there you see my distinguished features and my pug nose——"</p> + +<p>Cleo appeared in the door smiling:</p> + +<p>"I've been waiting for you to come to lunch, Mr. Boy, for nearly an hour."</p> + +<p>"Well, for heaven's sake, why didn't you let us know?"</p> + +<p>"I told you it was ready when you came."</p> + +<p>"Forgot all about it."</p> + +<p>He was so serenely unconscious of anything unusual in his actions that he +failed to notice the smile that continuously played about Cleo's mouth or +to notice Andy's evident enjoyment of the little drama as he bowed and +scraped and waited on the table with unusual ceremony.</p> + +<p>Aunt Minerva, hearing Andy's report of the sudden affair that had developed +in the major's absence, left the kitchen and stood in the door a moment, +her huge figure completely filling the space while she watched the +unconscious boy and girl devouring each other with sparkling eyes.</p> + +<p>She waved her fat hand over their heads to Andy, laughed softly and left +without their noticing her presence.</p> + +<p>The luncheon was the longest one that had been known within the memory of +anyone present. Minerva again wandered back to the door, fascinated by the +picture they made, and whispered to Andy as he passed:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, fer de Lawd's sake, is dey gwine ter set dar all day?"</p> + +<p>"Nobum—'bout er nodder hour, an' he'll go back ter de office."</p> + +<p>Tom suddenly looked at his watch:</p> + +<p>"Heavens! I'm late. I'll run down to the office and cut the work out for +the day in honor of your coming."</p> + +<p>Helen rose blushing:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm afraid I'll make trouble for you."</p> + +<p>"No trouble at all! I'll be back in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>"I'll be on the lawn in that wilderness of roses. The odor is +maddening—it's so sweet."</p> + +<p>"All right—and then I'll show you the old rose garden the other side of +the house."</p> + +<p>"It's awfully good of you, but I'm afraid I'm taking your time from work."</p> + +<p>"It's all right! I'll make the other fellows do it to-day."</p> + +<p>She blushed again and waved her bare arm high over her dark brown hair from +the porch as he swung through the gate and disappeared.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes he had returned. Through the long hours of a beautiful +summer afternoon they walked through the enchanted paths of the old garden +on velvet feet, the boy pouring out his dreams and high ambitions, the +girl's lonely heart for the first time in life basking in the joyous light +of a perfect day.</p> + +<p>Andy made an excuse to go in the garden and putter about some flowers just +to watch them, laugh and chuckle over the exhibition. He was just in time +as he softly approached behind a trellis of climbing roses to hear Tom +say:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Please give me that bud you're wearing?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" she asked demurely.</p> + +<p>"Just because I've taken a fancy to it."</p> + +<p>She blushed scarlet, took the rosebud from her bosom and pinned it on his +coat:</p> + +<p>"All right—there!"</p> + +<p>Andy suppressed a burst of laughter and hurried back to report to Minerva.</p> + +<p>For four enchanted weeks the old comedy of life was thus played by the boy +and girl in sweet and utter unconsciousness of its meaning. He worked only +in the mornings and rushed home for lunch unusually early. The afternoon +usually found them seated side by side slowly driving over the quiet +country roads. Two battlefields of the civil war, where his father had led +a regiment of troops in the last desperate engagement with Sherman's army +two weeks after Lee had surrendered at Appomattox, kept them busy each +afternoon for a week.</p> + +<p>At night they sat on the moonlit porch behind the big pillars and he talked +to her of the great things of life with simple boyish enthusiasm. Sometimes +they walked side by side through the rose-scented lawn and paused to hear +the love song of a mocking-bird whose mate was busy each morning teaching +her babies to fly.</p> + +<p>The world had become a vast rose garden of light and beauty, filled with +the odors of flowers and spices and dreamy strains of ravishing music.</p> + +<p>And behind it all, nearer crept the swift shadow whose tread was softer +than the foot of a summer's cloud.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>TRAPPED</h3> + + +<p>Norton's campaign during its first months was a continuous triumph. The +opposition had been so completely stunned by the epoch-making declaration +of principles on which he had chosen to conduct the fight that they had as +yet been unable to rally their forces. Even the rival newspaper, founded to +combat the ideas for which the <i>Eagle and Phoenix</i> stood, was compelled to +support Norton's ticket to save itself from ruin. The young editor found a +source of endless amusement in taunting the professor on this painful fact.</p> + +<p>The leader had chosen to begin his tour of the state in the farthest +mountain counties that had always been comparatively free from negro +influence. These counties were counted as safe for the opposition before +the startling program of the editor's party had been announced. Yet from +the first day's mass meeting which he had addressed an enthusiasm had been +developed under the spell of Norton's eloquence that had swept the crowds +of mountaineers off their feet. They had never been slave owners, and they +had no use for a negro as servant, laborer, voter, citizen, or in any other +capacity. The idea of freeing the state forever from their baleful +influence threw the entire white race into solid ranks supporting his +ticket.</p> + +<p>The enthusiasm kindled in the mountains swept the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> foothills, gaining +resistless force as it reached the more inflammable feelings of the people +of the plains who were living in daily touch with the negro.</p> + +<p>Yet amid all the scenes of cheering and enthusiasm through which he was +passing daily the heart of the leader was heavy with dread. His mind was +brooding over the last scene with Cleo and its possible outcome.</p> + +<p>He began to worry with increasing anguish over the certainty that when she +struck the blow would be a deadly one. The higher the tide of his triumph +rose, the greater became the tension of his nerves. Each day had its +appointment to speak. Some days were crowded with three or four +engagements. These dates were made two weeks ahead and great expense had +been incurred in each case to advertise them and secure record crowds. It +was a point of honor with him to make good these dates even to the smallest +appointment at a country crossroads.</p> + +<p>It was impossible to leave for a trip home. It would mean the loss of at +least four days. Yet his anxiety at last became so intense that he +determined to rearrange his dates and swing his campaign into the territory +near the Capital at once. It was not a good policy. He would risk the loss +of the cumulative power of his work now sweeping from county to county, a +resistless force. But it would enable him to return home for a few hours +between his appointments.</p> + +<p>There had been nothing in Tom's reports to arouse his fears. The boy had +faithfully carried out his instructions to give no information that might +annoy him. His brief letters were bright, cheerful, and always closed with +the statement: "Everything all right at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> home, and I'm still jollying the +professor about supporting the cause he hates."</p> + +<p>When he reached the county adjoining the Capital his anxiety had reached a +point beyond endurance. It would be three days before he could connect with +a schedule of trains that would enable him to get home between the time of +his hours to speak. He simply could not wait.</p> + +<p>He telegraphed to Tom to send Andy to the meeting next day with a bound +volume of the paper for the year 1866 which contained some facts he wished +to use in his speech in this district.</p> + +<p>Andy's glib tongue would give him the information he needed.</p> + +<p>The train was late and the papers did not arrive in time. He was compelled +to leave his hotel and go to the meeting without them.</p> + +<p>An enormous crowd had gathered. And for the first time on his tour he felt +hostility in the glances that occasionally shot from groups of men as he +passed. The county was noted for its gangs of toughs who lived on the edge +of a swamp that had been the rendezvous of criminals for a century.</p> + +<p>The opposition had determined to make a disturbance at this meeting and if +possible end it with a riot. They counted on the editor's fiery temper when +aroused to make this a certainty. They had not figured on the cool audacity +with which he would meet such a situation.</p> + +<p>When he reached the speaker's stand, the county Chairman whispered:</p> + +<p>"They are going to make trouble here to-day."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They've got a speaker who's going to demand a division of time."</p> + +<p>The editor smiled:</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the Chairman said, nodding toward a tall, ministerial-looking +individual who was already working his way through the crowd. "That's the +fellow coming now."</p> + +<p>Norton turned and confronted the chosen orator of the opposition, a +backwoods preacher of a rude native eloquence whose name he had often +heard.</p> + +<p>He saw at a glance that he was a man of force. His strong mouth was clean +of mustache and the lower lip was shaved to the chin. A long beard covered +the massive jaws and his hair reached the collar of his coat. He had been a +deserter during the war, and a drunken member of the little Scalawag +Governor's famous guard that had attempted to rule the state without the +civil law. He had been converted in a Baptist revival at a crossroads +meeting place years before and became a preacher. His religious conversion, +however, had not reached his politics or dimmed his memory of the events of +Reconstruction.</p> + +<p>He had hated Norton with a deep and abiding fervor from the day he had +escaped from his battalion in the Civil War down to the present moment.</p> + +<p>Norton hadn't the remotest idea that he was the young recruit who had taken +to his heels on entering a battle and never stopped running until he +reached home.</p> + +<p>"This is Major Norton?" the preacher asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the curt answer.</p> + +<p>"I demand a division of time with you in a joint discussion here, sir."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton's figure stiffened and he looked at the man with a flush of anger:</p> + +<p>"Did you say demand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, I did," the preacher answered, snapping his hard mouth firmly. +"We believe in free speech in this county."</p> + +<p>Norton placed his hands in his pockets, and looked him over from head to +foot:</p> + +<p>"Well, you've got the gall of the devil, I must say, even if you do wear +the livery of heaven. You demand free speech at my expense! I like your +cheek. It cost my committee two hundred dollars to advertise this meeting +and make it a success, and you step up at the last moment and demand that I +turn it over to your party. If you want free speech, hire your own hall and +make it to your heart's content. You can't address this crowd from a +speaker's stand built with my money."</p> + +<p>"You refuse?"</p> + +<p>Norton looked at him steadily for a moment and took a step closer:</p> + +<p>"I am trying to convey that impression to your mind. Must I use my foot to +emphasize it?"</p> + +<p>The long-haired one paled slightly, turned and quickly pushed his way +through the crowd to a group awaiting him on the edge of the brush arbor +that had been built to shelter the people from the sun. The Chairman +whispered to Norton:</p> + +<p>"There'll be trouble certain—they're a tough lot. More than half the men +here are with him."</p> + +<p>"They won't be when I've finished," he answered with a smile.</p> + +<p>"You'd better divide with them——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll see him in hell first!"</p> + +<p>Norton stepped quickly on the rude pine platform that had been erected for +the speaker and faced the crowd. For the first time on his trip the +cheering was given with moderation.</p> + +<p>He saw the preacher walk back under the arbor and his men distribute +themselves with apparent design in different parts of the crowd.</p> + +<p>He lifted his hand with a gesture to stop the applause and a sudden hush +fell over the eager, serious faces.</p> + +<p>His eye wandered carelessly over the throng and singled out the men he had +seen distribute themselves among them. He suddenly slipped his hand behind +him and drew from beneath his long black frock coat a big revolver and laid +it beside the pitcher of lemonade the Chairman had provided.</p> + +<p>A slight stir swept the crowd and the stillness could be felt.</p> + +<p>The speaker lifted his broad shoulders and began his speech in an intense +voice that found its way to the last man who hung on the edge of the crowd:</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he began slowly, "if there's any one present who doesn't wish +to hear what I have to say, now is the time to leave. This is my meeting, +and I will not be interrupted. If, in spite of this announcement, there +happens to be any one here who is looking for trouble"—he stopped and +touched the shining thing that lay before him—"you'll find it here on the +table—walk right up to the front."</p> + +<p>A cheer rent the air. He stilled it with a quick gesture and plunged into +his speech.</p> + +<p>In the intense situation which had developed he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> forgotten the fear +that had been gnawing at his heart for the past weeks.</p> + +<p>At the height of his power over his audience his eye suddenly caught the +black face of Andy grinning in evident admiration of his master's +eloquence.</p> + +<p>Something in the symbolism of this negro grinning at him over the heads of +the people hanging breathless on his words sent a wave of sickening fear to +his heart. In vain he struggled to throw the feeling off in the midst of +his impassioned appeal. It was impossible. For the remaining half hour he +spoke as if in a trance. Unconsciously his voice was lowered to a strange +intense monotone that sent the chills down the spines of his hearers.</p> + +<p>He closed his speech in a silence that was strangling.</p> + +<p>The people were dazed and he was half-way down the steps of the rude +platform before they sufficiently recovered to break into round after round +of cheering.</p> + +<p>He had unconsciously made the most powerful speech of his life, and no man +in all the crowd that he had hypnotized could have dreamed the grim secret +which had been the source of his inspiration.</p> + +<p>Without a moment's delay he found Andy, examined the package he brought and +hurried to his room.</p> + +<p>"Everything all right at home, Andy?" he asked with apparent carelessness.</p> + +<p>The negro was still lost in admiration of Norton's triumph over his hostile +audience.</p> + +<p>"Yassah, you sho did set 'em afire wid dat speech, major!" he said with a +laugh.</p> + +<p>"And I asked you if everything was all right at home?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, yassah, yassah—everything's all right. Of cose, sah, dey's a few +little things always happenin'. Dem pigs get in de garden las' week an' et +everything up, an' dat ole cow er own got de hollow horn agin. But +everything else all right, sah."</p> + +<p>"And how's aunt Minerva?"</p> + +<p>"Des es big an' fat ez ebber, sah, an' er gittin' mo' unruly every +day—yassah—she's gittin' so sassy she try ter run de whole place an' me, +too."</p> + +<p>"And Cleo?"</p> + +<p>This question he asked bustling over his papers with an indifference so +perfectly assumed that Andy never guessed his interest to be more than +casual, and yet he ceased to breathe until he caught the laughing answer:</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's right dar holdin' her own wid Miss Minerva an' I tells her las' +week she's lookin' better dan ebber—yassah—she's all right."</p> + +<p>Norton felt a sense of grateful relief. His fears had been groundless. They +were preposterous to start with. The idea that she might attempt to visit +Helen in his absence was, of course, absurd.</p> + +<p>His next question was asked with a good-natured, hearty tone:</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Tom?"</p> + +<p>Andy laughed immoderately and Norton watched him with increasing wonder.</p> + +<p>"Right dar's whar my tale begins!"</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter with him?" the father asked with a touch of anxiety +in his voice.</p> + +<p>"Lordy, dey ain't nuttin' de <i>matter</i> wid him 'tall—hit's a fresh cut!"</p> + +<p>Again Andy laughed with unction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What is it?" Norton asked with impatience. "What's the matter with Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Nuttin' 'tall, sah—nuttin' 'tall—I nebber see 'im lookin' so well in my +life. He gets up sooner den I ebber knowed him before. He comes home +quicker an' stays dar longer an' he's de jolliest young gentleman I know +anywhar in de state. Mo' specially, sah, since dat handsome young lady from +de North come down to see us——"</p> + +<p>The father's heart was in his throat as he stammered:</p> + +<p>"A handsome young lady from the North—I don't understand!"</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Helen, sah, de young lady you invite ter spen' de summer wid +us."</p> + +<p>Norton's eyes suddenly grew dim, he leaned on the table, stared at Andy, +and repeated blankly:</p> + +<p>"The young lady I asked to spend the summer with us?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, Miss Helen, sah, is her name—she cum 'bout er week atter you +lef——"</p> + +<p>"And she's been there ever since?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yassah, an' she sho is a powerful fine young lady, sah. I don't blame +Mister Tom fer bein' crazy 'bout her!"</p> + +<p>There was a moment's dead silence.</p> + +<p>"So Tom's crazy about her?" he said in a high, nervous voice, which Andy +took for a joke.</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I'se had some sperience myself, sah, but I ain't nebber seen +nuttin' like dis! He des trot long atter her day an' night like a fice. An' +de funny thing, sah, is dat he doan' seem ter know dat he's doin' it. +Everybody 'bout de house laffin' fit ter kill dersef an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> he don't pay no +'tention. He des sticks to her like a sick kitten to a hot brick! Yassah, +hit sho's funny! I des knowed you'd bust er laughin' when you sees 'em."</p> + +<p>Norton had sunk to a seat too weak to stand. His face was pale and his +breath came in short gasps as he turned to the negro, stared at him +hopelessly for a moment and said:</p> + +<p>"Andy, get me a good horse and buggy at the livery stable—we'll drive +through the country to-night. I want to get home right away."</p> + +<p>Andy's mouth opened and his eyes stared in blank amazement.</p> + +<p>"De Lawd, major, hit's mos' sundown now an' hit's a hundred miles from here +home—hit took me all day ter come on de train."</p> + +<p>"No, it's only forty miles straight across the country. We can make it +to-night with a good horse. Hurry, I'll have my valise packed in a few +minutes."</p> + +<p>"Do you know de way, sah?" Andy asked, scratching his head.</p> + +<p>"Do as I tell you—quick!" Norton thundered.</p> + +<p>The negro darted from the room and returned in half an hour with a horse +and buggy.</p> + +<p>Through the long hours of the night they drove with but a single stop at +midnight in a quiet street of a sleeping village. They halted at the well +beside a store and watered the horse.</p> + +<p>A graveyard was passed a mile beyond the village, and Andy glanced timidly +over his shoulder at the white marble slabs glistening in the starlight. +His master had not spoken for two hours save the sharp order to stop at the +well.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dis sho is er lonesome lookin' place!" Andy said with a shiver.</p> + +<p>But the man beside him gave no sign that he heard. His eyes were set in a +strange stare at the stars that twinkled in the edge of the tree tops far +ahead.</p> + +<p>Andy grew so lonely and frightened finally at the ominous silence that he +pretended to be lost at each crossroads to force Norton to speak.</p> + +<p>"I wuz afraid you gone ter sleep, sah!" he said with an apologetic laugh. +"An' I wuz erfered dat you'd fall out er de buggy gwine down er hill."</p> + +<p>In vain he tried to break the silence. There was no answer—no sign that he +was in the same world, save the fact of his body's presence.</p> + +<p>The first streak of dawn was widening on the eastern horizon when Norton's +cramped legs limped into the gate of his home. He stopped to steady his +nerves and looked blankly up at the window of his boy's room. He had given +Tom his mother's old room when he had reached the age of sixteen.</p> + +<p>Somewhere behind those fluted pillars, white and ghost-like in the dawn, +lay the girl who had suddenly risen from the dead to lead his faltering +feet up life's Calvary. He saw the cross slowly lifting its dark form from +the hilltop with arms outstretched to embrace him, and the chill of death +crept into his heart.</p> + +<p>The chirp of stirring birds, the dim noises of waking life, the whitening +sky-line behind the house recalled another morning in his boyhood. He had +waked at daylight to go to his traps set at the branch in the edge of the +woods behind the barn. The plantation at that time had extended into the +town. A fox had been killing his fancy chickens. He had vowed vengeance in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +his boyish wrath, bought half a dozen powerful steel-traps and set them in +the fox's path. The prowler had been interrupted the night before and had +not gotten his prey. He would return sure.</p> + +<p>He recalled now every emotion that had thrilled his young heart as he +bounded along the dew-soaked path to his traps.</p> + +<p>Before he could see the place he heard the struggles of his captive.</p> + +<p>"I've got him!" he shouted with a throb of savage joy.</p> + +<p>He leaped the fence and stood frozen to the spot. The fox was a magnificent +specimen of his breed, tall and heavy as a setter dog, with beautiful +appealing eyes. His fine gray fur was spotched with blood, his mouth torn +and bleeding from the effort to break the cruel bars that held his foreleg +in their death-like grip. With each desperate pull the blood spurted afresh +and the steel cut deeper into bone and flesh.</p> + +<p>The strange cries of pain and terror from the trapped victim had struck him +dumb. He had come with murder in his heart to take revenge on his enemy, +but when he looked with blanched face on the blood and heard the pitiful +cries he rushed to the spot, tore the steel arms apart, loosed the fox, +pushed his quivering form from him and gasped:</p> + +<p>"Go—go—I'm sorry I hurt you like that!"</p> + +<p>Stirred by the memories of the dawn he lived this scene again in vivid +anguish, and as he slowly mounted the steps of his home, felt the steel +bars of an inexorable fate close on his own throat.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>BEHIND THE BARS</h3> + + +<p>When Norton reached his room he locked the door and began to pace the +floor, facing for the hundredth time the stunning situation which the +presence of Helen had created.</p> + +<p>To reveal to such a sensitive, cultured girl just as she was budding into +womanhood the fact that her blood was tainted with a negro ancestor would +be an act so pitifully cruel that every instinct of his nature revolted +from the thought.</p> + +<p>He began to realize that her life was at stake as well as his boy's. That +he loved this son with all the strength of his being and that he only knew +the girl to fear her, made no difference in the fundamental facts. He +acknowledged that she was his. He had accepted the fact and paid the +penalty in the sacrifice of every ambition of a brilliant mind.</p> + +<p>He weighed carefully the things that were certain and the things that were +merely probable. The one certainty that faced him from every angle was that +Cleo was in deadly earnest and that it meant a fight for the supremacy of +every decent instinct of his life and character.</p> + +<p>Apparently she had planned a tragic revenge by luring the girl to his home, +figuring on his absence for three months, to precipitate a love affair +before he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> could know the truth or move to interfere. A strange mental +telepathy had warned him and he had broken in on the scene two months +before he was expected.</p> + +<p>And yet he couldn't believe that Cleo in the wildest flight of her insane +rage could have deliberately meant that such an affair should end in +marriage. She knew the character of both father and son too well to doubt +that such an act could only end in tragedy. She was too cautious for such +madness.</p> + +<p>What was her game?</p> + +<p>He asked himself that question again and again, always to come back to one +conclusion. She had certainly brought the girl into the house to force from +his reluctant lips her recognition and thus fix her own grip on his life. +Beyond a doubt the surest way to accomplish this, and the quickest, was by +a love affair between the boy and girl. She knew that personally the father +had rather die than lose the respect of his son by a confession of his +shame. But she knew with deeper certainty that he must confess it if their +wills once clashed over the choice of a wife. The boy had a mind of his +own. His father knew it and respected and loved him all the more because of +it.</p> + +<p>It was improbable as yet that Tom had spoken a word of love or personally +faced such an issue. Of the girl he could only form the vaguest idea. It +was clear now that he had been stricken by a panic and that the case was +not so desperate as he had feared.</p> + +<p>One thing he saw with increasing clearness. He must move with the utmost +caution. He must avoid Helen at first and find the boy's attitude. He must +at all hazards keep the use of every power of body, mind and soul in the +crisis with which he was confronted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span></p> + +<p>Two hours later when Andy cautiously approached his door and listened at +the keyhole he was still pacing the floor with the nervous tread of a +wounded lion suddenly torn from the forest and thrust behind the bars of an +iron cage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>ANDY'S DILEMMA</h3> + + +<p>Andy left Norton's door and rapped softly at Tom's, tried the lock, found +it unfastened, pushed his way quietly inside and called:</p> + +<p>"Mister Tom!"</p> + +<p>No answer came from the bed and Andy moved closer:</p> + +<p>"Mister Tom—Mister Tom!"</p> + +<p>"Ah—what's the matter with you—get out!" the sleeper growled.</p> + +<p>The negro touched the boy's shoulder with a friendly shake, whispering:</p> + +<p>"Yo' Pa's here!"</p> + +<p>Tom sat up in bed rubbing his eyes:</p> + +<p>"What's that?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I fotch him through the country and we rid all night——"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?'</p> + +<p>"Dat's what I wants ter see you 'bout, sah—an' ef you'll des slip on dem +clothes an' meet me in de liberry, we'll hab a little confab an' er council +er war——"</p> + +<p>The boy picked up a pillow and hurled it at Andy:</p> + +<p>"Well, get out, you old rascal, and I'll be down in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>Andy dodged the pillow and at the door whispered:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yassah, an' don't disturb de major! I hopes ter God he sleep er month when +he git started."</p> + +<p>"All right, I won't disturb him."</p> + +<p>Tom dressed, wondering vaguely what had brought his father home at such an +unearthly hour and by such a trip across the country.</p> + +<p>Andy, arrayed in a suit of broadcloth which he had appropriated from +Norton's wardrobe in his absence, was waiting for Tom with evident +impatience.</p> + +<p>"Now, what I want to know is," the boy began, "what the devil you mean by +pulling me out of bed this time of day?"</p> + +<p>Andy chuckled:</p> + +<p>"Well, yer see, sah, de major git home kinder sudden like en' I wuz jest er +little oneasy 'bout dis here new suit er close er mine——"</p> + +<p>"Well, that's not the first suit of his clothes you've swiped—you needn't +be scared."</p> + +<p>"Scared—who me? Man, I ain't er skeered er yo' Pa."</p> + +<p>Minerva banged the dining-room door and Andy jumped and started to run. Tom +laughed and seized his arm:</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't be a fool! There's no danger."</p> + +<p>"Nasah—I knows dey's no danger—but"—he glanced over his shoulder to be +sure that the master hadn't come down stairs—"but yer know de ole sayin' +is dat indiscretion is de better part er value——"</p> + +<p>"I see!" Tom smiled in perfect agreement.</p> + +<p>"An' I des has er little indiscretion——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you make me tired, how can I help a coward?"</p> + +<p>Andy looked grieved:</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Mister Tom—don't say dat, sah. I ain't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> no coward—I'se des +cautious. Ye know I wuz in dat fus' battle er Bull's Run wid de major. I +git separated from him in a close place an' hatter move my headquarters. +Dey said I wuz er coward den 'cause I run. But twan't so, sah! Twan't cause +I wuz er coward. I knowed zactly what I wuz doin'. I run 'cause I didn't +hab no wings! I done de very bes' I could wid what I had. An' fuddermo', +sah, de fellers dat wuz whar I wuz en' didn't run—dey's all dar yit at +Bull's Run! Nasah, I ain't no coward. I des got de indiscretion——"</p> + +<p>Another door slammed and Andy dodged.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you anyhow, you old fool, are you having fits?" Tom +cried.</p> + +<p>Andy looked around the room cautiously and took hold of the boy's coat:</p> + +<p>"You listen to me, Mister Tom. I'se gwine tell yer somfin' now——"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't er skeered er de major—but he's dangous——"</p> + +<p>"Bosh!"</p> + +<p>"Dey's sumfin' de matter wid him!"</p> + +<p>"Had a few mint juleps with a friend, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"Mint juleps! Huh! He kin swim in 'em—dive in 'em an' stay down er whole +day an' never come up ter blow his bref—licker don't faze him!"</p> + +<p>"It's politics. He's leading this devilish campaign and he's worried over +politics."</p> + +<p>"Nasah!" Andy protested with a laugh. "Dem fool niggers des well give +up—dey ain't gwine ter vote no mo'. De odder feller's doin' all de +worryin'. He ain't worrin'——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, he is, too," the boy replied. "He put a revolver in his pocket when +he started on that trip."</p> + +<p>"Yassah!" Andy laughed. "I know, but yer don't understan'. Dat pistol's his +flatform!"</p> + +<p>"His platform?"</p> + +<p>"You ain' hear what he bin er doin' wid dat pistol?"</p> + +<p>"No—what?"</p> + +<p>"Man erlive, yer des oughter see 'im yistiddy when I take 'im dem papers +ter dat speakin', down in one er dem po' white counties full er Radicals +dat vote wid niggers. Er Kermittee comes up an' say dat de Internal +Constertooshion er de Nunited States give 'em free speech an' he gwine ter +hear from 'em. De Lordy, man, but his bristles riz! I 'lows ter myself, +folks yer sho is thumpin' de wrong watermillion dis time!"</p> + +<p>"And what did he say to the Committee?"</p> + +<p>"I nebber hear nary word. He des turn 'roun an' step up on dat flatform, +kinder peart like, an' yer oughter see 'im open dat meetin'"—Andy paused +and broke into a loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"How did he open it?" Tom asked with indulgent interest.</p> + +<p>Andy scratched his woolly head:</p> + +<p>"Well, sah, hit warn't opened wid prayer—I kin tell ye dat! De fust thing +he done, he reach back in his britches, kinder kereless lak, an' pull dat +big pistol an' lay hit down afore him on' de table beside his pitcher er +lemonade. Man, you oughter see de eyes er dat crowd er dirty-lookin' po' +whites! Dey fairly popped outen der heads! I hump myself an' move out +towards de outskirts——"</p> + +<p>Tom smiled:</p> + +<p>"I bet you did!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't run!" Andy protested.</p> + +<p>"Of course not—far be it from you!"</p> + +<p>"Nasah, I des tucken drawed out——"</p> + +<p>"I understand, just a little caution, so to speak!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah—dat's hit! Des tucken drawed out, whar I'd have elbow room in de +mergency——"</p> + +<p>"In other words," the boy interrupted, "just used a little indiscretion!"</p> + +<p>Andy chuckled:</p> + +<p>"Yassah! Dat's hit! Well, sah, he pat dat pistol kinder familious like an' +say: 'Ef dey's any er you lowlife po' white scoundrels here ter-day that +don't want ter hear my speech—git! But ef yer stay an' yer don't feel +comfortable, I got six little lead pills here in a box dat'll ease yer +pain. Walk right up to de prescription counter!'"</p> + +<p>"And they walked right up?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sah, dey didn't <i>crowd up!</i>—nasah!" Andy paused and laughed +immoderately. "An' wid dat he des folded his arms an' look at dat crowd er +minute an' his eyes began to spit fire. When I see dat, I feels my very +shoes commin' ontied. I sez ter myself, now folks he's gwine ter +magnify——"</p> + +<p>Tom laughed:</p> + +<p>"Magnified, did he?"</p> + +<p>The negro's eyes rolled and he lifted his hands in a gesture of supreme +admiration:</p> + +<p>"De Lordy, man—ef he didn't! He lit inter dem po' white trash lak er +thousand er brick——"</p> + +<p>"Give 'em what Paddy gave the drum, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Now yer talkin', honey! Ef he didn't give 'em particular hell!"</p> + +<p>"And what happened?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nuttin' happened, chile—dat's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye. Nary one of +'em nebber cheeped. Dey des stood dar an' listened lak er passel er +sheep-killin' dogs. Lemme tell ye, honey, politics ain't er worryin' him. +De odder fellers doin' all de worrin'. Nasah, dey's sumfin else de matter +wid de major——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>Andy looked around the room furtively and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Dar's a quare look in his eye!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, pooh!"</p> + +<p>"Hit's des lak I tells ye, Mister Tom. I ain't seed dat quare look in his +eye before since de night I see yo' Ma's ghost come down outen dat big +picture frame an' walk cross dis hall——"</p> + +<p>The boy smiled and looked at the shining yellow canvas that seemed a living +thing gleaming in its dark setting:</p> + +<p>"I suppose, of course, Andy, you really saw her do that?"</p> + +<p>"'Fore God, es sho's I'm talkin' ter you now, she done dat thing—yassah! +Hit wus de las' year befo' you come back frum college. De moon wuz shinin' +froo dem big windows right on her face, an' I seed her wid my own eyes, all +of a sudden, step right down outen dat picture frame an' walk across dis +room, huggin' her baby close up in her arms—an' you'se dat very baby, +sah!"</p> + +<p>The boy was interested in the negro's weird recital in spite of his +amusement. He shook his head and said laughingly:</p> + +<p>"Andy, you've got the heat——"</p> + +<p>"Hit's des lak I tells ye, sah," Andy solemnly repeated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> "I stood right +dar by dat table froze in my tracks, till I seed her go froo dat do' widout +openin' it——"</p> + +<p>"Bah!" Tom cried in disgust.</p> + +<p>"Dat she did!—an' Miss Minerva she see her do dat same thing once before +and tell me about it. But man erlive, when I see it, I let off one er dem +yells dat wuz hark from de tomb——"</p> + +<p>"I bet you did!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I went froo dat big window dar an' carry de whole sash wid me. De +major he take out atter me when he hears de commotion, an' when he kotch me +down dar in de fiel' I wuz still wearin' dat sash fer a necktie!"</p> + +<p>The boy laughed again:</p> + +<p>"And I suppose, of course, he believed all you told him?"</p> + +<p>The negro rolled his eyes solemnly to the ceiling and nodded his head:</p> + +<p>"Dat he did, sah. When I fust told 'im dat I seed er ghost, he laft fit ter +kill hissef——"</p> + +<p>The boy nodded:</p> + +<p>"I don't doubt it!"</p> + +<p>"But mind ye," Andy solemnly continued, "when I tells him what kin' er +ghost I seed, he nebber crack anudder smile. He nebber open his mouf ergin +fer er whole day. An' dis here's what I come ter tell ye, honey——"</p> + +<p>He paused and glanced over his shoulder as if momentarily fearing the +major's appearance.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd been telling me?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah, I ain't told ye nuttin' yit. When I say what <i>kine</i> er ghost I +see—dat quare look come in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> eye—de same look dat come dar yistiddy +when I tells 'im dat Miss Helen wuz here."</p> + +<p>The boy looked at Andy with a sudden start:</p> + +<p>"Ah, how could that sweet little girl upset him? He's her guardian's +attorney and sent for her to come, of course——"</p> + +<p>"I don't know 'bout dat, sah—all I know is dat he went wil' es quick es I +tells 'im, an' he bin wil' ever since. Mister Tom, I ain't skeered er de +major—but he's dangous!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, Andy, you're the biggest fool in the county," the boy answered +laughing. "You know my father wouldn't touch a hair of your kinky head."</p> + +<p>Andy grinned.</p> + +<p>"'Cose not, Mister Tom," he said with unction. "I knows dat. But all de +same I gotter keep outen his way wid dis new suit er close till I see 'im +smilin'——"</p> + +<p>"Always bearing in mind that indiscretion is the better part of value!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah—yassah—dat's hit—an' I wants you ter promise you'll stan' by me, +sah, till de major's in a good humor."</p> + +<p>"All right; if you need me, give a yell."</p> + +<p>Tom turned with a smile to go, and Andy caught his sleeve and laughed +again:</p> + +<p>"Wait—wait er minute, Mister Tom—hold yer hosses. Dey's anodder little +thing I wants ye ter help me out erbout. I kin manage de major all right ef +I kin des keep outen his sight ter-day wid dis suit er clothes. But de +trouble is, I got ter wear 'em, sah—I got er 'pintment wid er lady!"</p> + +<p>The boy turned good-naturedly, threw his leg over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> the corner of the table +and raised his eyebrows with a gleam of mischief:</p> + +<p>"Oh, a lady! Who is she? Aunt Minerva?"</p> + +<p>Andy waved his hands in disgust.</p> + +<p>"Dat's des de one hit ain't—nasah! I can't stan' her nohow, Mr. Tom. I des +natchally can't stan' er fat 'oman! An' Miss Minerva weighs 'bout three +hundred——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not so bad as that, Andy!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, she's er whale! Man, ef we wuz walkin' along tergedder, en she wuz +ter slip an' fall she'd sqush de life outen me! I'd nebber know what hit +me. An' what makes bad matters wus, I'se er strong suspicion dat she got +her eyes sot on me here lately—I des feels it in my bones—she's atter me +sho, sah."</p> + +<p>Tom broke into a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Well, she can't take you by force."</p> + +<p>"I don't know 'bout dat, sah. When any 'oman gits her min' sot she's +dangous. But when a 'oman big an' black es she make up her min'!"</p> + +<p>"Black!" Tom cried, squaring himself and looking Andy over: "Aren't you +just a little shady?"</p> + +<p>"Who? Me?—nasah! I ain't no black nigger!"</p> + +<p>"No?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah! I'se what dey calls er tantalizin' brown!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I'se er chocolate-colored gemman—an' I nebber could stan' dese +here coal-black niggers. Miss Minerva's so black she kin spit ink!"</p> + +<p>"And she's 'atter' you?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah, an' Miss Minerva's a widder 'oman, an' ye know de Scripter says, +'Beware of widders'——"</p> + +<p>"Of course!" Tom agreed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'se er gemman, yer know, Mister Tom. I can't insult er lady, an' dat's de +particular reason dat I wants ter percipitate mysef wid my true love before +dat big, black 'oman gits her hands on me. She's atter me sho, an' ef she +gits me in er close place, what I gwine do, sah?"</p> + +<p>Tom assumed a judicial attitude, folded his arms and asked:</p> + +<p>"Well, who's the other one?—who's your true love?"</p> + +<p>Andy put his hand over his mouth to suppress a snicker:</p> + +<p>"Now dat's whar I kinder hesitates, sah. I bin er beatin' de debbil roun' +de stump fur de pas' week tryin' ter screw up my courage ter ax ye ter help +me. But Mister Tom, you gettin' so big an' dignified I kinder skeered. You +got ter puttin' on more airs dan de major——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, who is she?" the boy asked brusquely.</p> + +<p>Andy glanced at him out of the corners of his rolling eyes:</p> + +<p>"Yer ain't gwine laugh at me—is yer?"</p> + +<p>With an effort Tom kept his face straight:</p> + +<p>"No, I may be just as big a fool some day myself—who is she?"</p> + +<p>Andy stepped close and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Miss Cleo!"</p> + +<p>"Cleo——"</p> + +<p>"Yassah."</p> + +<p>"Well, you are a fool!" the boy exclaimed indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I spec I is," Andy answered, crestfallen, "but I des can't hep it, +sah."</p> + +<p>"Cleo, my nurse, my mammy—why, she wouldn't wipe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> her foot on you if you +were a door-mat. She's almost as white as I am."</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I know, an' dat's what make me want her so. She's mine ef I kin +git her! Hit des takes one drap er black blood to make er nigger, sah."</p> + +<p>"Bah—she wouldn't look at you!"</p> + +<p>"I know she holds er high head, sah. She's been eddicated an' all dat—but +you listen ter me, honey—she gwine look at me all de same, when I say de +word."</p> + +<p>"Yes, long enough to laugh."</p> + +<p>Andy disregarded the shot, and prinked himself before the mirror:</p> + +<p>"Don't yer think my complexion's gettin' little better, sah?"</p> + +<p>Tom picked up a book with a smile:</p> + +<p>"You do look a little pale to-day, but I think that's your liver!"</p> + +<p>Andy broke into a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Nasah. Dat ain't my liver!"</p> + +<p>"Must be!"</p> + +<p>"Nasah! I got er patent bleacher frum New York dat's gwine ter make me +white ef I kin des buy enough of it."</p> + +<p>"How much have you used?"</p> + +<p>"Hain't used but six bottles yit. Hit costs three dollars a bottle"—he +paused and rubbed his hands smoothingly over his head. "Don't yer think my +hair's gittin' straighter, sah?"</p> + +<p>Tom turned another page of the book without looking up:</p> + +<p>"Not so that you could notice it."</p> + +<p>"Yassah, 'tis!" Andy laughed, eyeing it sideways in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> the mirror and making +a vain effort to see the back of his head. "I'se er usin' er concoction +called 'Not-a-Kink.' Hit costs five dollars a bottle—but man, hit sho is +doin' de work! I kin des feel dem kinks slippin' right out."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing much the matter with your hair, Andy," Tom said, looking +up with a smile, "that's the straightest thing about you. The trouble's +inside."</p> + +<p>"What de matter wid me inside?"</p> + +<p>"You're crooked."</p> + +<p>"Who—me?" Andy cried. "Ah, go long, Mister Tom, wid yer projectin'—yer +des foolin' wid me"—he came close and busied himself brushing the boy's +coat and continued with insinuating unction—"now ef yer des put in one +little word fer me wid Miss Cleo——"</p> + +<p>"Take my advice, Andy," the boy said seriously, "keep away from her—she'll +kill you."</p> + +<p>"Not ef you help me out, sah," Andy urged eagerly. "She'll do anything fer +you, Mister Tom—she lubs de very ground you walks on—des put in one +little word fer me, sah——"</p> + +<p>Tom shook his head emphatically:</p> + +<p>"Can't do it, Andy!"</p> + +<p>"Don't say dat, Mister Tom!"</p> + +<p>"Can't do it."</p> + +<p>Andy flicked imaginary lint from both sleeves of Tom's coat:</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Mister Tom——"</p> + +<p>The boy turned away protesting:</p> + +<p>"No, I can't do it."</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Mister Tom," Andy cried in grieved tones. "You ain't gwine back on +me like dat des 'cose yer went ter college up dar in de Norf an' git mixed +up wid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> Yankee notions! Why, you an' me's always been good friends an' +partners. What ye got agin me?"</p> + +<p>A gleam of mischief slipped into the boy's eyes again as he folded his arms +with mock severity:</p> + +<p>"To begin with, you're the biggest old liar in the United States——"</p> + +<p>"Lordy, Mister Tom, I nebber tell a lie in my life, sah!"</p> + +<p>"Andy—Andy!"</p> + +<p>The negro held his face straight for a moment and then broke into a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Well, sah, I may has <i>pré-var-i-cated</i> some times, but dat ain't +lyin'—why, all gemmens do dat."</p> + +<p>"And look at this suit of clothes," Tom said severely, "that you've just +swiped from Dad. You'd steal anything you can get your hands on!"</p> + +<p>Andy turned away and spoke with deep grief</p> + +<p>"Mister Tom, you sho do hurt my feelin's, sah—I nebber steal nuttin' in my +life."</p> + +<p>"I've known you to steal a palm-leaf fan in the dead of winter with snow on +the ground."</p> + +<p>Andy laughed uproariously:</p> + +<p>"Why, man, dat ain't stealin! Who gwine ter want er palm-leaf fan wid snow +on de groun'?—dat's des findin' things. You know dey calls me Hones' Andy. +When dey ketch me wid de goods I nebber try ter lie outen it lak some fool +niggers. I des laugh, 'fess right up, an' hit's all right. Dat's what make +'em call me Hones' Andy, cose I always knows dat honesty's de bes' +policy—an' here you comes callin' me a thief—Lordee, Mister Tom, yer sho +do hurt my feelin's!"</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head again and frowned:</p> + +<p>"You're a hopeless old sinner——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who, me, er sinner? Why, man erlive, I'se er pillar in de church!"</p> + +<p>"God save the church!"</p> + +<p>"I mebbe backslide a little, sah, in de winter time," Andy hastened to +admit. "But I'se always de fus' man to de mourners' bench in de spring. I +mos' generally leads de mourners, sah, an' when I comes froo an' gits +religion over again, yer kin hear me shout er mile——"</p> + +<p>"And I bet when the chickens hear it they roost higher the next night!"</p> + +<p>Andy ignored the thrust and went on enthusiastically:</p> + +<p>"Nasah, de church folks don't call me no sinner. I always stands up fer +religion. Don't yer min' de time dat big yaller nigger cum down here from +de Norf er castin' circumflexions on our church? I wuz de man dat stood +right up in de meetin' an' defends de cause er de Lawd. I haul off an' biff +'im right in the jaw——"</p> + +<p>"And you're going to ask Cleo to marry you?"</p> + +<p>"I sho' is, sah."</p> + +<p>"Haven't you a wife living, Andy?" the boy asked carelessly.</p> + +<p>The whites of the negro's eyes suddenly shone as he rolled them in the +opposite direction. He scratched his head and turned back to his friendly +tormentor with unction:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tom, I'm gwine ter be hones'—cose honesty is de bes' policy. I did +marry a lady, sah, but dat wuz er long time ergo. She run away an' lef me +an' git married ergin an' I divorced her, sah. She don't pester me no mo' +an' I don't pester her. Hit warn't my fault, sah, an' I des put her away ez +de Bible sez. Ain't dat all right, sah?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, it's hardly legal to-day, though it may have been a Biblical +custom."</p> + +<p>"Yassah, but dat's nuttin' ter do wid niggers. De white folks make de laws +an' dey hatter go by 'em. But niggers is niggers, yer know dat yosef, sah."</p> + +<p>Tom broke into a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Andy, you certainly are a bird!"</p> + +<p>The negro joined in the laugh with a joyous chuckle at its close:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, yassah—one er dese here great big brown blackbirds! But, Lordy, +Mister Tom, yer des foolin' wid me—yer ain't got nuttin' 'gin yer ole +partner, barrin' dem few little things?"</p> + +<p>"No, barring the few things I've mentioned, that you're a lazy, lying, +impudent old rascal—barring these few little things—why—otherwise you're +all right, Andy, you're all right!"</p> + +<p>The negro chuckled joyfully:</p> + +<p>"Yassah—yassah! I knowed yer warn't gwine back on me, Mister Tom." He +edged close and dropped his voice to the oiliest whisper: "You'll say dat +good word now to Miss Cleo right away, sah?"</p> + +<p>The boy shook his head:</p> + +<p>"The only thing I'll agree to do, Andy, is to stand by and see you commit +suicide. If it's any comfort to you, I'll tell you that she'll kill you."</p> + +<p>"Nasah! Don't yer believe it. Ef I kin des escape dat fat 'oman wid my life +before she gits me—now dat you'se on my side I kin read my titles +clar——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can get rid of Minerva all right!"</p> + +<p>"For de Lord sake, des tell me how!"</p> + +<p>Tom bent toward him and spoke in low tones:</p> + +<p>"All you've got to do if Minerva gets you in a tight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> place is to confess +your real love and ask her to help you out as a friend."</p> + +<p>Andy looked puzzled a moment and then a light broke over his dusky face:</p> + +<p>"Dat's a fine plan, Mister Tom. You saved er nigger's life—I'll do dat +sho!"</p> + +<p>"As for Cleo, I can't do anything for you, but I won't do anything against +you."</p> + +<p>"Thankee, sah! Thankee, sah!"</p> + +<p>When Tom reached the door he paused and said:</p> + +<p>"I might consent to consult with the undertaker about the funeral and act +as one of your pall-bearers."</p> + +<p>Andy waved him away with a suppressed laugh:</p> + +<p>"G'way frum here, Mister Tom! G'way frum here!"</p> + +<p>The negro returned to the mirror, adjusted his suit and after much effort +succeeded in fixing a new scarfpin of a horseshoe design in the centre of +the bow of one of Norton's old-fashioned black string ties. He dusted his +shoes, smoothed as many of the kinks out of his hair as a vigorous rubbing +could accomplish, and put the last touches on his elaborate preparations +for a meeting with Cleo that was destined to be a memorable one in her +life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE BEST LAID PLANS</h3> + + +<p>Andy's plans for a speedy conquest of Cleo were destined to an +interruption. Minerva had decided that he was the best man in sight for a +husband, and made up her mind to claim her own. She had noticed of late a +disposition on his part to dally with Cleo, and determined to act +immediately. Breakfast was well under way and she had heard Andy's unctous +laugh in the library with Tom.</p> + +<p>She put on her sweeping apron, took up a broom and entered under the +pretense of cleaning the room.</p> + +<p>Andy was still chuckling with joy over the brilliant plan of escape +suggested by Tom. He had just put the finishing touches on his necktie, and +was trying on an old silk hat when Minerva's voice caused him to suddenly +collapse.</p> + +<p>"Say, man, is dat a hat er a bee-gum?" she cried, with a laugh so jolly it +would have been contagious but for Andy's terror.</p> + +<p>He looked at her, dropped the hat, picked it up and stammered:</p> + +<p>"W-w-why—Miss Minerva, is dat you?"</p> + +<p>Minerva beamed on him tenderly, placed her broom in the corner and advanced +quickly to meet him:</p> + +<p>"I knowed ye wuz 'spectin me frum de way yer wuz<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> gettin' ready." She +laughed and chuckled with obvious coquetry, adding coyly:</p> + +<p>"I knows how yer feel——"</p> + +<p>Andy looked for a way of escape. But Minerva was too quick for him. She was +a woman of enormous size, fat, jolly and extremely agile for her weight. +She carried her two hundred and fifty pounds without apparent effort. She +walked with a nervous, snappy energy and could waltz with the grace of a +girl of sixteen.</p> + +<p>She had reached Andy's side before his dull brain could think of an excuse +for going. Her shining coal-black face was aglow with tenderness and the +determination to make things easy for him in the declaration of love she +had planned that he should make.</p> + +<p>"I know how yer feels, Brer Andy," she repeated.</p> + +<p>The victim mopped his perspiring brow and stammered:</p> + +<p>"Yassam—yassam."</p> + +<p>"Yer needn't be so 'barrassed, Mr. Andy," Minerva went on in the most +insinuating tones. "Yer kin say what's on yer mind."</p> + +<p>"Yassam."</p> + +<p>"Come right here and set down er minute."</p> + +<p>She seized his hand and drew him with a kittenish skip toward a settee, +tripped on a bear rug and would have fallen had not Andy grabbed her.</p> + +<p>"De Lord save us!" he gasped. He was trying desperately in his new suit to +play the gentleman under difficulties.</p> + +<p>Minerva was in ecstasy over his gallantry:</p> + +<p>"Yer sho wuz terrified less I git hurt, Mr. Andy," she laughed. "I thought +dat bar had me sho."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>Andy mopped his brow again and glanced longingly at the door:</p> + +<p>"Yassam, I sho wuz terrified—I'm sorry m'am, you'll hatter 'scuse me. +Mister Tom's out dar waitin' fer me, an' I hatter go——"</p> + +<p>Minerva smilingly but firmly pulled him down on the seat beside her:</p> + +<p>"Set right down, Mr. Andy, an' make yoself at home. We got er whole half +hour yet 'fore de odder folks come down stairs. Man, don't be so +'barrassed! I knows 'zactly how yer feels. I understand what's de matter +wid yer"—she paused, glanced at him out of the corners of her eye, touched +him slyly with her elbow, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Why don't yer say what's on yer mind?"</p> + +<p>Andy cleared his throat and began to stammer. He had the habit of +stammering under excitement, and Tom's plan of escape had just popped into +his benumbed brain. He saw the way out:</p> + +<p>"Y-y-yas'm—cose, m'am. I got sumfin ter tell ye, Miss M-m-Minerva."</p> + +<p>Minerva moved a little closer.</p> + +<p>"Yas, honey, I knows what 'tis, but I'se jes' waitin' ter hear it."</p> + +<p>He cleared his throat and tried to begin his speech in a friendly +business-like way:</p> + +<p>"Yassam, I gwine tell yer sho——"</p> + +<p>He turned to face her and to his horror found her lips so close she had +evidently placed them in position for the first kiss.</p> + +<p>He stopped appalled, fidgeted, looked the other way and stammered:</p> + +<p>"H-hit sho is powful warm ter-day, m'am!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tain't so much de heat, Brer Andy," she responded tenderly, "as 'tis de +humility dat's in de air!"</p> + +<p>Andy turned, looked into her smiling face for a moment and they both broke +into a loud laugh while he repeated:</p> + +<p>"Yassam, de humility—dat's hit! De humility dat's in de air!"</p> + +<p>The expression had caught his fancy enormously.</p> + +<p>"Yassir, de humility—dat's hit!" Minerva murmured.</p> + +<p>When the laughter had slowly died down she moved a little closer and said +reassuringly:</p> + +<p>"And now, Brer Andy, ez dey's des you an' me here tergedder—ef hits suits +yo' circumstantial convenience, hab no reprehenshun, sah, des say what's on +yo' min'."</p> + +<p>Andy glanced at her quickly, bowed grandiloquently and catching the spirit +of her high-flown language decided to spring his confession and ask her +help to win Cleo.</p> + +<p>"Yassam, Miss Minerva, dat's so. An' ez I allays sez dat honesty is de bes' +policy, I'se gwine ter ré-cede ter yo' invitation!"</p> + +<p>Minerva laughed with joyous admiration:</p> + +<p>"Des listen at dat nigger now! You sho is er talkin' man when yer gits +started——"</p> + +<p>"Yassam, I bin er tryin' ter tell ye fer de longest kind er time an' ax ye +ter help me——"</p> + +<p>Minerva moved her massive figure close against him:</p> + +<p>"Cose I help you."</p> + +<p>Andy edged as far away as possible, but the arm of the settee had caught +him and he couldn't get far. He smiled wanly and tried to assume a purely +platonic tone:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wuz yer ebber in love, Miss Minerva?"</p> + +<p>Minerva nudged him slyly:</p> + +<p>"Wuz I?"</p> + +<p>Andy tried to ignore the hint, lifted his eyes to the ceiling and in +far-away tones put the hypothetical case of the friend who needed help:</p> + +<p>"Well, des 'spose m'am dat a po' man wuz ter fall in love wid er beautiful +lady, fur above him, wid eyes dat shine lak de stars——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, g'way frum here, man!" Minerva cried entranced as she broke into a +peal of joyous laughter, nudging him again.</p> + +<p>The insinuating touch of her elbow brought Andy to a sharp realization that +his plan had not only failed to work, but was about to compromise him +beyond hope. He hurried to correct her mistake.</p> + +<p>"But listen, Miss Minerva—yer don't understand. Would yer be his friend +an' help him to win her?"</p> + +<p>With a cry of joy she threw her huge arms around his neck:</p> + +<p>"Would I—Lordy—man!"</p> + +<p>Andy tried to dodge her strangle hold, but was too slow and she had him.</p> + +<p>He struggled and grasped her arms, but she laughed and held on.</p> + +<p>"B-b-but—yer—yer," he stammered.</p> + +<p>"Yer needn't say annudder word——"</p> + +<p>"Yassam, but wait des er minute," he pleaded, struggling to lower her arms.</p> + +<p>"Hush, man," Minerva said good-naturedly. "Cose I knows yer bin er bad +nigger—but ye needn't tell me 'bout it now——"</p> + +<p>"For Gawd's sake!" Andy gasped, wrenching her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> arms away at last, "will yer +des lemme say one word?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah!" she said generously. "I ain't gwine ter let ye say no harsh words +ergin yoself. I sho do admire de indelicate way dat yer tells me of yo' +love!"</p> + +<p>"B-but yer don't understand——"</p> + +<p>"Cose I does, chile!" Minerva exclaimed with a tender smile.</p> + +<p>Andy made a gesture of despair:</p> + +<p>"B-b-but I tries ter 'splain——"</p> + +<p>"Yer don't hatter 'splain nuttin' ter me, man—I ain't no spring chicken—I +knowed what ye means befo' ye opens yer mouf. Yer tells me dat ye lubs me +an' I done say dat I lubs you—an' dat's all dey is to it."</p> + +<p>Minerva enfolded him in her ample arms and he collapsed with feeble assent:</p> + +<p>"Yassam—yassam."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>A RECONNOITRE</h3> + + +<p>Norton slept at last from sheer physical exhaustion and waked at eleven +o'clock refreshed and alert, his faculties again strung for action.</p> + +<p>He wondered in the clear light of noon at the folly of his panic the night +before. The fighting instinct in him had always been the dominant one. He +smiled now at his silly collapse and his quick brain began to plan his line +of defense.</p> + +<p>The girl was in his house, yes. But she had been here in spirit, a living, +breathing threat over his life, every moment the past twenty years. No +scene of pain or struggle could come but that he had already lived it a +thousand times. There was a kind of relief in facing these phantoms for the +first time in flesh and blood. They couldn't be more formidable than the +ghosts he had fought.</p> + +<p>He shaved and dressed with deliberation—dressed with unusual care—his +brain on fire now with the determination to fight and win. The instincts of +the soldier were again in command. And the first thing a true soldier did +when driven to desperation and surrounded by an overwhelming foe was to +reconnoitre, find the strength of his enemy, and strike at their weakest +spot.</p> + +<p>He must avoid Cleo and find the exact situation of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> Tom and Helen. His +safest way was again to cultivate Andy's knowledge of the house in his +absence.</p> + +<p>He rang for him and waited in vain for his appearance. He rang again and, +getting no response, walked down stairs to the door and searched the lawn. +He saw Cleo beside a flower bed talking to Helen. He caught a glimpse of +the lovely young face as she lifted her eyes and saw him. He turned back +quickly into the house to avoid her, and hurried to the library.</p> + +<p>Andy had been watching carefully until Norton went through the front door. +Sure that he had strolled out on the lawn to see Helen, with a sigh of +relief the negro hurried back to the mirror to take another admiring glance +at his fine appearance in the new suit.</p> + +<p>Norton's sudden entrance completely upset him. He tried to laugh and the +effort froze on his lips. He saw that Norton had recognized the stolen +suit, but was too excited to see the amusement lurking behind his frown:</p> + +<p>"Where were you a while ago, when I was calling?"</p> + +<p>"I been right here all mornin', sah," Andy answered with forced surprise.</p> + +<p>"You didn't hear that bell?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah, nebber hear a thing, sah."</p> + +<p>Norton looked at him severely:</p> + +<p>"There's a bigger bell going to ring for you one of these days. You like to +go to funerals, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Andy laughed:</p> + +<p>"Yassah—odder folk's funerals—but dey's one I ain't in no hurry to git +to——"</p> + +<p>"That's the one—where were you when I rang just now?"</p> + +<p>The negro looked at his master, hesitated, and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> broad grin overspread his +black face. He bowed and chuckled and walked straight up to Norton:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, major, I gwine tell yer de honest truf now, cose honesty is de +bes' policy. I wuz des embellishin' mysef wid dis here ole suit er close +dat ye gimme, sah, an' I wants ter specify my 'preciation, sah, at de +generosity wid which yer always treats me, sah. I had a mos' particular +reason fer puttin' dis suit on dis mornin'——"</p> + +<p>Norton examined the lapel of the coat, his lips twitching to suppress a +smile:</p> + +<p>"My suit of broadcloth——"</p> + +<p>Andy rubbed his hands over the coat in profound amazement:</p> + +<p>"Is dis de broadcloth? De Lawd er mussy!"</p> + +<p>Norton shook his head:</p> + +<p>"You old black hound——"</p> + +<p>Andy broke into a loud laugh:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, yassah! Dat's me. But, major, I couldn't find the vest!"</p> + +<p>"Too bad—shall I get it for you?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah—des tell me whar yer put it!"</p> + +<p>Norton smiled:</p> + +<p>"Did you look in my big cedar box?"</p> + +<p>"Thankee, sah—thankee, sah. Yer sho is good ter me, major, an' yer can +always 'pend on me, sah."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm going to send you to the penitentiary for this——"</p> + +<p>Andy roared with laughter:</p> + +<p>"Yassah—yassah—cose, sah! I kin see myse'f in dat suit er stripes now, +but I sho is gwine ter blossom out in dat double-breasted vest fust!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the laughter had died away Norton asked in good-natured tones:</p> + +<p>"You say I can depend on you, Andy?"</p> + +<p>"Dat yer kin, sah—every day in the year—you'se de bes frien' I ebber had +in de world, sah."</p> + +<p>"Then I want to ask you a question."</p> + +<p>"Yassah, I tells yer anything I know, sah."</p> + +<p>"I'm just a little worried about Tom. He's too young to get married. Do you +think he's been really making love to Miss Helen?"</p> + +<p>Norton watched the negro keenly. He knew that a boy would easily trust his +secrets to such a servant, and that his sense of loyalty to the young would +be strong. He was relieved at the quick reply which came without guile:</p> + +<p>"Lawdy, major, he ain't got dat far, sah. I bin er watchin' 'em putty +close. He des kinder skimmin' 'round de edges."</p> + +<p>"You think so?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!" was the confident reply. "He 'minds me er one er dese here +minnows when ye go fishin'. He ain't swallowed de hook yit—he des +nibblin'."</p> + +<p>Norton smiled, lighted a cigar, and quietly said:</p> + +<p>"Go down to the office and tell Mr. Tom that I'm up and wish to see him."</p> + +<p>"Yassah—yassah—right away, sah."</p> + +<p>Andy bowed and grinned and hurried from the house.</p> + +<p>Norton seated himself in an armchair facing the portrait of the little +mother. His memory lingered tenderly over the last beautiful days they had +spent together. He recalled every smile with which she had looked her +forgiveness and her love. He felt the presence of her spirit and took +courage.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> + +<p>He lifted his eyes to the sweet, tender face bending over her baby and +breathed a prayer for guidance. He wondered if she could see and know in +the dim world beyond. Without trying to reason about it, he had grown to +believe that she did, and that her soul was near in this hour of his trial.</p> + +<p>How like this mother the boy had grown the past year—just her age when he +was born. The color of his blonde hair was almost an exact reproduction of +hers. And this beautiful hair lent a peculiar distinction to the boy's fine +face. He had developed, too, a lot of little ways strikingly like the +mother's when a laughing school girl. He smiled in the same flashing way, +like a sudden burst of sunlight from behind a cloud. His temper was quick +like hers, and his voice more and more seemed to develop the peculiar tones +he had loved.</p> + +<p>That this boy, around whose form every desire of life had centered, should +be in peril was a thought that set his heart to beating with new energy.</p> + +<p>He heard his quick step in the hall, rose and laid down his cigar. With a +rush Tom was in the room grasping the outstretched hand:</p> + +<p>"Glad to see you back, Dad!" he cried, "but we had no idea you were coming +so soon."</p> + +<p>"I got a little homesick," the father replied, "and decided to come in for +a day or two."</p> + +<p>"I was awfully surprised at Miss Helen's popping in on us so +unexpectedly—I suppose you forgot to tell me about it in the rush of +getting away."</p> + +<p>"I really didn't expect her to come before my return," was the vague +answer.</p> + +<p>"But you wrote her to come at once."</p> + +<p>"Did I?" he replied carelessly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, yes, she showed me your letter. I didn't write you about her arrival +because you told me under no circumstances, except of life or death, to +tell you of anything here and I obeyed orders."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you've made that a principle of your life—stick to it."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry you're away in this dangerous campaign so much, Dad," the boy +said with feeling. "It may end your career."</p> + +<p>The father smiled and a far-away look stole into his eyes:</p> + +<p>"I have no career, my boy! I gave that up years ago and I had to lead this +campaign."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>The look in the brown eyes deepened:</p> + +<p>"Because I am the man to whom our danger has been revealed. I am the man to +whom God has given a message—I who have been tried in the fires of hell +and fought my way up and out of the pit—only the man who has no ambitions +can tell the truth!"</p> + +<p>The boy nodded and smiled:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know your hobby——"</p> + +<p>"The big tragic truth, that the physical contact of the black race with the +white is a menace to our life"—his voice had dropped to a passionate +whisper as if he were talking to himself.</p> + +<p>A laugh from Tom roused him to the consciousness of time and place:</p> + +<p>"But that isn't a speech you meant for me, Dad!"</p> + +<p>The father caught his bantering tone with a light reply:</p> + +<p>"No."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<p>And then his tall form confronted the boy with a look of deep seriousness:</p> + +<p>"To-morrow I enter on the last phase of this campaign. At any moment a fool +or a madman may blow my brains out."</p> + +<p>Tom gave a start:</p> + +<p>"Dad——"</p> + +<p>"Over every mile of that long drive home last night, I was brooding and +thinking of you——"</p> + +<p>"Of me?"</p> + +<p>"Wondering if I had done my level best to carry out the dying commands of +your mother——"</p> + +<p>He paused, drew a deep breath, looked up tenderly and continued:</p> + +<p>"I wish you were settled in life."</p> + +<p>The boy turned slightly away and the father watched him keenly and +furtively for a moment, and took a step toward him:</p> + +<p>"You have never been in love?"</p> + +<p>With a shrug and a laugh, Tom dropped carelessly on the settee and crossed +his legs:</p> + +<p>"Love—hardly!"</p> + +<p>The father held his breath until the light answer brought relief and then +smiled:</p> + +<p>"It will come some day, my boy, and when it hits you, I think it's going to +hit hard."</p> + +<p>The handsome young head was poised on one side with a serious judicial +expression:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think it will—but I guess my ideal's too high, though."</p> + +<p>The father spoke with deep emotion:</p> + +<p>"A man's ideal can't be too high, my boy!"</p> + +<p>Tom didn't hear. His mind was busy with his ideal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But if I ever find her," he went on dreamily, "do you know what I'll +want?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"The strength of Samson!"</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head with a smile:</p> + +<p>"To reach over in California, tear one of those big trees up by the roots, +dip it in the crater of Vesuvius and write her name in letters of fire +across the sky!"</p> + +<p>He ended with a wide, sweeping gesture, showing just how he would inscribe +it.</p> + +<p>"Really!" the father laughed.</p> + +<p>"That's how I feel!" he cried, springing to his feet with an emphatic +gesture, a smile playing about his firm mouth.</p> + +<p>The father slipped his arm around him:</p> + +<p>"Well, if you should happen to do it, be sure to stand in the ocean, +because otherwise, you know, if the grass should be dry you might set the +world on fire."</p> + +<p>The boy broke into a hearty laugh, crossed to the table, and threw his leg +carelessly over the corner, a habit he had gotten from his father. When the +laugh had died away, he picked up a magazine and said carelessly:</p> + +<p>"I guess there's no danger, after all. I'm afraid that the big thing poets +sing about is only a myth after all"—he paused, raised his eyes and they +rested on his mother's portrait, and his voice became a reverent +whisper—"except your love for my mother, Dad—that was the real thing!"</p> + +<p>He was looking the other way and couldn't see the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> cloud of anguish that +suddenly darkened his father's face.</p> + +<p>"You'll know its meaning some day, my son," was the even reply that came +after a pause, "and I only demand of you one thing——"</p> + +<p>He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder:</p> + +<p>"That the woman you ask to be your wife bear a name without shadow. Good +blood is the noblest inheritance that any father or mother ever gave to a +child."</p> + +<p>"I'm proud of mine, sir!" the boy said, drawing his form erect.</p> + +<p>The father's arm stole around the young shoulders and his voice was very +low:</p> + +<p>"Fools sometimes say, my son, that a man can sow his wild oats and be all +the better for it. It's a lie. The smallest deed takes hold on eternity for +it may start a train of events that even God can't stop——"</p> + +<p>He paused and fought back a cry from the depths of his soul.</p> + +<p>"I did something that hurt your mother once"—his voice dropped—"and for +twenty years my soul in anguish has begged for forgiveness——"</p> + +<p>The boy looked at him in startled sympathy and his own arm instinctively +slipped around his father's form as he lifted his face to the shining +figure over the mantel:</p> + +<p>"But you believe that she sees and understands now?"</p> + +<p>Norton turned his head away to hide the mists that clouded his eyes. His +answer was uttered with the reverence of a prayer:</p> + +<p>"Yes! I've seen her in dreams sometimes so vividly and heard her voice so +plainly, I couldn't believe that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> I was asleep"—his voice stopped before +it broke, his arm tightening its hold—"and I know that her spirit broods +and watches over you——"</p> + +<p>And then he suddenly decided to do the most cruel thing to which his mind +had ever given assent. But he believed it necessary and did not hesitate. +Only the vague intensity of his eyes showed his deep feeling as he said +evenly:</p> + +<p>"Ask Miss Helen to come here. You'll find her on the lawn with Cleo."</p> + +<p>The boy left the room to summon Helen, and Norton seated himself with grim +determination.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>THE FIRST WHISPER</h3> + + +<p>When Tom reached the lawn Helen was nowhere to be seen. He searched every +nook and corner which they had been accustomed to haunt, looked through the +rose garden and finally knocked timidly on the door of her room. He was +sure at first that he heard a sound within. He dared not open her door and +so hurried down town to see if he could find her in one of the stores.</p> + +<p>Helen shivering inside had held her breath until his his footsteps died +away on the stairs.</p> + +<p>With heavy heart but swift hands she was packing her trunk. In spite of +Cleo's assurances she had been startled and frightened beyond measure by +the certainty that Norton had purposely avoided her. She had expected the +most hearty welcome. Her keen intuition had scented his hostility though +not a word had been spoken.</p> + +<p>Cleo, who had avoided Tom, again rapped on her door:</p> + +<p>"Just a minute, Miss Helen!"</p> + +<p>There was no answer and the woman strained her ear to hear what was +happening inside. It couldn't be possible that the girl was really going to +leave! Such an act of madness would upset her plans just as they were +coming out exactly as she had hoped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She can't mean it!" Cleo muttered under her breath. "It's only a fit of +petulance!" She didn't dare to give Helen a hint of her clouded birth. That +might send her flying. Yet if necessary she must excite her curiosity by a +whisper about her parentage. She had already guessed from hints the girl +had dropped that her one passionate desire was to know the names of her +father and mother. She would be careful, but it was necessary to hold her +at all hazards.</p> + +<p>She rapped again:</p> + +<p>"Please, Miss Helen, may I come in just a minute?"</p> + +<p>Her voice was full of pleading. A step was heard, a pause and the door +opened. Cleo quickly entered, turned the key and in earnest tones, her eyes +dancing excitedly, asked:</p> + +<p>"You are really packing your trunk?"</p> + +<p>"It's already packed," was the firm answer.</p> + +<p>"But you can't mean this——"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"I tell you, child, the major didn't see you——"</p> + +<p>"He did see me. I caught his eye in a straight, clear look. And he turned +quickly to avoid me."</p> + +<p>"You have his letter of invitation. You can't think it a forgery?" she +asked with impatience.</p> + +<p>The girl's color deepened:</p> + +<p>"He has evidently changed his mind for some reason."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"I was just ready to rush to meet him and thank him with the deepest +gratitude for his invitation. The look on his face when he turned was like +a blow."</p> + +<p>"It's only your imagination!" Cleo urged eagerly. "He's worried over +politics."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not in politics. No, it's something else—I must go."</p> + +<p>Cleo put her hand appealingly on Helen's arm:</p> + +<p>"Don't be foolish, child!"</p> + +<p>The girl drew away suddenly with instinctive aversion. The act was slight +and quick, but not too slight or quick for the woman's sharp eye. She threw +Helen a look of resentment:</p> + +<p>"Why do you draw away from me like that?"</p> + +<p>The girl flushed with embarrassment and stammered:</p> + +<p>"Why—you see, I've lived up North all my life, shut up in a convent most +of the time and I'm not used—to—colored people——"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not a negro, please remember that. I'm a nurse and housekeeper, +if you please, and there happens to be a trace of negro blood in my veins, +but a white soul throbs beneath this yellow skin. I'd strip it off inch by +inch if I could change its color"—her voice broke with assumed emotion—it +was a pose for the moment, but its apparent genuineness deceived the girl +and roused her sympathy.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said contritely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's no matter."</p> + +<p>Helen snapped the lid of her trunk:</p> + +<p>"I'm leaving on the first train."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come now," Cleo urged impatiently. "You'll do nothing of the kind—the +major will be himself to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I am going at once——"</p> + +<p>"You're not going!" the woman declared firmly, laying her hand again on the +girl's arm.</p> + +<p>With a shudder Helen drew quickly away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Please—please don't touch me again!" she cried with anger. "I'm sorry, +but I can't help it."</p> + +<p>With an effort Cleo suppressed her rage:</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't. I understand—but you can't go like this. The major will be +furious."</p> + +<p>"I'm going," the girl replied, picking up the odds and ends she had left +and placing them in her travelling bag.</p> + +<p>Cleo watched her furtively:</p> + +<p>"I—I—ought to tell you something that I know about your life—"</p> + +<p>Helen dropped a brush from her hand and quickly crossed the room, a bright +color rushing to her cheeks:</p> + +<p>"About my birth?"</p> + +<p>"You believe," Cleo began cautiously, "that the major is the agent of your +guardian who lives abroad. Well, he's not the agent—he is your guardian."</p> + +<p>"Why should he deceive me?"</p> + +<p>"He had reasons, no doubt," Cleo replied with a smile.</p> + +<p>"You mean that he knows the truth? That he knows the full history of my +birth and the names of my father and mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"He has assured me again and again that he does not—"</p> + +<p>"I know that he has deceived you."</p> + +<p>Helen looked at her with a queer expression of angry repulsion that she +should possess this secret of her unhappy life.</p> + +<p>"You know?" she asked faintly.</p> + +<p>"No," was the quick reply, "not about your birth;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> but I assure you the +major does. Demand that he tell you."</p> + +<p>"He'll refuse—"</p> + +<p>"Ask him again, and stay until he does."</p> + +<p>"But I'm intruding!" Helen cried, brushing a tear from her eyes.</p> + +<p>"No matter, you're here, you're of age, you have the right to know the +truth—stay until you learn it. If he slights you, pay no attention to +it—stay until you know."</p> + +<p>The girl's form suddenly stiffened and her eyes flashed:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will—I'll know at any cost."</p> + +<p>With a soft laugh which Helen couldn't hear Cleo hurried from the room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>Andy's Proposal</h3> + + +<p>Andy had been waiting patiently for Cleo to leave Helen's door. He had +tried in vain during the entire morning to get an opportunity to see her +alone, but since Helen's appearance at breakfast she had scarcely left the +girl's side for five minutes.</p> + +<p>He had slipped to the head of the back stairs, lifted the long flaps of the +tail of his new coat and carefully seated himself on the last step to wait +her appearance. He smiled with assurance. She couldn't get down without a +word at least.</p> + +<p>"I'm gwine ter bring things to er head dis day, sho's yer born!" he +muttered, wagging his head.</p> + +<p>He had been to Norfolk the week before on an excursion to attend the annual +convention of his African mutual insurance society, "The Children of the +King." While there he had met the old woman who had given him a startling +piece of information about Cleo which had set his brain in a whirl. He had +long been desperately in love with her, but she had treated him with such +scorn he had never summoned the courage to declare his affection.</p> + +<p>The advent of Helen at first had made no impression on his slowly working +mind, but when he returned from Norfolk with the new clew to Cleo's life he +watched the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> girl with increasing suspicion. And when he saw the collapse +of Norton over the announcement of her presence he leaped to an important +conclusion. No matter whether his guess was correct or not, he knew enough +to give him a power over the proud housekeeper he proposed to exercise +without a moment's delay.</p> + +<p>"We see now whether she turns up her nose at me ergin," he chuckled, as he +heard the door open.</p> + +<p>He rose with a broad grin as he saw that at last she was alone. He adjusted +his suit with a touch of pride and pulled down his vest with a little jerk +he had seen his master use in dressing. He had found the heavy, black, +double-breasted vest in the cedar box, but thought it rather sombre when +contrasted with a red English hunting jacket the major had affected once in +a fashionable fox hunt before the war. The rich scarlet took his fancy and +he selected that one instead. He carried his ancient silk hat jauntily +balanced in one hand, in the other hand a magnolia in full bloom. The +petals of the flower were at least a half-foot long and the leaves longer.</p> + +<p>He bowed with an attempt at the easy manners of a gentleman in a gallant +effort to attract her attention. She was about to pass him on the stairs +without noticing his existence when Andy cleared his throat:</p> + +<p>"Ahem!"</p> + +<p>Cleo paused with a frown:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter? Have you caught cold!"</p> + +<p>Andy generously ignored her tone, bowed and handed her the magnolia:</p> + +<p>"Would you embellish yousef wid dis little posie, m'am?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>The woman turned on him, drew her figure to its full height, her eyes +blazing with wrath, snatched the flower from his hand and threw it in his +face.</p> + +<p>Andy dodged in time to save his nose and his offering went tumbling down +the stairs. He shook his head threateningly when he caught his breath:</p> + +<p>"Look a here, m'am, is dat de way yer gwine spessify my welcome?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no, I was only thanking you for the compliment!" she answered with a +sneer. "How dare you insult me?"</p> + +<p>"Insult you, is I?" Andy chuckled. "Huh, if dat's de way ye talk I'm gwine +ter say sumfin quick——"</p> + +<p>"You can't be too quick!"</p> + +<p>Andy held her eye a moment and pointed his index finger in her face:</p> + +<p>"Yassam! As de ole sayin' is—I'm gwine take my tex' from dat potion er de +Scripter whar de 'Postle Paul pint his 'pistle at de Fenians!—I'se er +comin' straight ter de pint."</p> + +<p>"Well, come to it, you flat-nosed baboon!" she cried in rage. "What makes +your nose so flat, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Andy grinned at her tantalizingly, and spoke with a note of deliberate +insult:</p> + +<p>"I don't know, m'am, but I spec hit wuz made dat way ter keep hit outen +odder folks' business!"</p> + +<p>"You impudent scoundrel, how dare you speak to me like this?" Cleo hissed.</p> + +<p>A triumphant chuckle was his answer. He flicked a piece of imaginary dust +from the rim of his hat, his eyes rolled to the ceiling and he slowly said +with a smile:</p> + +<p>"Well, yer see, m'am, circumstances alters cases an'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> dat always makes de +altercations! I git holt er a little secret o' yourn dat gimme courage——"</p> + +<p>"A secret of mine?" Cleo interrupted with the first flash of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yassam!" was the unctuous answer, as Andy looked over his shoulder and +bent to survey the hall below for any one who might possibly be passing.</p> + +<p>"Yassam," he went on smoothly, "down ter Norfork las' week, m'am——"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!" Cleo interrupted. "Some one might be below. Come to my +room."</p> + +<p>"Yassam, ob course, I wuz gwine ter say dat in de fust place, but ye didn't +gimme time"—he bowed—"cose, m'am, de pleasure's all mine, as de sayin' +is."</p> + +<p>He placed his silk hat jauntily on his head as they reached the door, and +gallantly took hold of Cleo's arm to assist her down the steps.</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly:</p> + +<p>"Wait here, I'll go ahead and you can come in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>"Sholy, sholy, m'am, I understan' dat er lady allus likes ter make er +little preparations ter meet er gemman. I understands. I des stroll out on +de lawn er minute."</p> + +<p>"The backyard's better," she replied, quietly throwing him a look of scorn.</p> + +<p>"Yassam, all right. I des take a little cursory view er de chickens."</p> + +<p>"As soon as I'm out of sight, you can come right up."</p> + +<p>Andy nodded and Cleo quickly crossed the fifty yards that separated the +house from the neat square brick building that was still used as the +servants' quarters.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p> + +<p>In a few minutes, with his silk hat set on the side of his head, Andy +tipped up the stairs and knocked on her door.</p> + +<p>He entered with a grandiloquent bow and surveyed the place curiously. Her +room was a sacred spot he had never been allowed to enter before.</p> + +<p>"Have a seat," Cleo said, placing a chair.</p> + +<p>Andy bowed, placed his hat pompously on the table, pulled down his red vest +with a jerk and seated himself deliberately.</p> + +<p>Cleo glanced at him:</p> + +<p>"You were about to tell me something that you heard in Norfolk?"</p> + +<p>Andy looked at the door as an extra precaution and smiled blandly:</p> + +<p>"Yassam, I happen ter hear down dar dat a long time ergo, mo'rn twenty +years, afore I cum ter live here—dat is when I wuz er politicioner—dey +wuz rumors 'bout you an' de major when you wuz Mister Tom's putty young +nurse."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"De major's wife fin' it out an' die. De major wuz heart-broke, drap +everything an' go Norf, an' while he wuz up dar, you claims ter be de +mudder of a putty little gal. Now min' ye, I ain't nebber seed her, but +dat's what I hears you claims——"</p> + +<p>Andy paused impressively and Cleo held his eye in a steady, searching +stare. She was trying to guess how much he really knew. She began to +suspect that his story was more than half a bluff and made up her mind to +fight.</p> + +<p>"Claim? No, you fool!" she said with indifferent contempt, "I didn't claim +it—I proved it. I proved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> it to his satisfaction. You may worry some one +else with your secret. It doesn't interest me. But I'd advise you to have +your life insured before you mention it to the major"—she paused, broke +into a light laugh and added: "So that's your wonderful discovery?"</p> + +<p>Andy looked at her with a puzzled expression and scratched his head:</p> + +<p>"Yassam."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll excuse you from wasting any more of your valuable time," Cleo +said, rising.</p> + +<p>Andy rose and smiled:</p> + +<p>"Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am!"</p> + +<p>"No?"</p> + +<p>"Nobum. I ain't 'sputin dat de little gal wuz born des lak you say, or des +lak, mebbe, de major believes ter dis day"—he paused and leaned over until +he could whisper in her ear—"but sposen she die?"</p> + +<p>The woman never moved a muscle for an instant. She spoke at last in a +half-laughing, incredulous way:</p> + +<p>"Suppose she died? Why, what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Now, mind ye," Andy said, lifting his hands in a persuasive gesture, "I +ain't sayin' dat she raly did die—I des say—sposen she die——"</p> + +<p>Cleo lost her temper and turned on her tormentor in sudden fury:</p> + +<p>"But she didn't! Who dares to tell such a lie? She's living to-day a +beautiful, accomplished girl."</p> + +<p>Andy solemnly raised his hand again:</p> + +<p>"Mind ye, I don't say dat she ain't, I des say sposen—sposen she die, an' +you git a little orphan baby ter put in her place, twenty years ergo, jis' +ter keep yer grip on de major——"</p> + +<p>Cleo peered steadily into his face:</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 446px;"> +<img src="images/i007.jpg" width="446" height="650" alt=""'Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am.'"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"'Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am.'"</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you guess that lie?"</p> + +<p>He cocked his head to one side and grinned:</p> + +<p>"I don't say dat I did, an' I don't say dat I didn't. I des say dat I +mought, an' den ergin I moughn't!"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's a lie!" she cried fiercely—"I tell you it's an infamous lie!"</p> + +<p>"Yassam, dat may be so, but hit's a putty dangous lie fer you, m'am, +ef——"</p> + +<p>He looked around the room in a friendly, cautious way and continued in a +whisper:</p> + +<p>"Especially ef de major wuz ter ever git pizened wid it!"</p> + +<p>Cleo's voice dropped suddenly to pleading tones:</p> + +<p>"You're not going to suggest such an idea to him?"</p> + +<p>Andy looked away coyly and glanced back at her with a smile:</p> + +<p>"Not ef yer ax me——"</p> + +<p>"Well, I do ask you," she said in tender tones. "A more infamous lie +couldn't be told. But if such a suspicion were once roused it would be hard +to protect myself against it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I des wants ter help ye, m'am," Andy protested earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Then I'm sure you'll never suggest such a thing to the major?—I'm sorry +I've treated you so rudely, and spoke to you as I did just now."</p> + +<p>Andy waved the apology aside with a generous gesture and spoke with large +good nature:</p> + +<p>"Oh, dat's all right, m'am! Dat's all right! I'm gwine ter show you now dat +I'se yer best friend——"</p> + +<p>"I may need one soon," she answered slowly. "Things can't go on in this +house much longer as they are."</p> + +<p>"Yassam!" Andy said reassuringly as he laid his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> hand on Cleo's arm and +bent low. "You kin 'pend on me. I'se always called Hones' Andy."</p> + +<p>She shuddered unconsciously at his touch, looked suddenly toward the house +and said:</p> + +<p>"Go—quick! Mr. Tom has come. I don't want him to see us together."</p> + +<p>Andy bowed grandly, took up his hat and tipped down the stairs chuckling +over his conquest, and Cleo watched him cross the yard to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"I'll manage him!" she murmured with a smile of contempt.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>THE FOLLY OF PITY</h3> + + +<p>Norton sat in the library for more than an hour trying to nerve himself for +the interview while waiting for Helen. He had lighted and smoked two cigars +in rapid succession and grown restless at her delay. He rose, strolled +through the house and seeing nothing of either Tom or Helen, returned to +the library and began pacing the floor with measured tread.</p> + +<p>He had made up his mind to do a cruel thing and told himself over and over +again that cruel things are often best. The cruelty of surgery is the +highest form of pity, pity expressed in terms of the highest intelligence.</p> + +<p>He was sure the boy had not made love to the girl. Helen was no doubt +equally innocent in her attitude toward him.</p> + +<p>It would only be necessary to tell her a part of the bitter truth and her +desire to leave would be a resistless one.</p> + +<p>And yet, the longer he delayed and the longer he faced such an act, the +more pitiless it seemed and the harder its execution became. At heart a +deep tenderness was the big trait of his character.</p> + +<p>Above all, he dreaded the first interview with Helen. The idea of the +responsibility of fatherhood had always been a solemn one. His love for Tom +was of the very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> beat of his heart. The day he first looked into his face +was the most wonderful in all the calendar of life.</p> + +<p>He had simply refused to let this girl come into his heart. He had closed +the door with a firm will. He had only seen her once when a little tot of +two and he was laboring under such deep excitement and such abject fear +lest a suspicion of the truth, or any part of the truth, reach the sisters +to whom he was intrusting the child, that her personality had made no +impression on him.</p> + +<p>He vaguely hoped that she might not be attractive. The idea of a girl of +his own had always appealed to him with peculiar tenderness, and, unlike +most fathers, he had desired that his first-born should be a girl. If Helen +were commonplace and unattractive his task would be comparatively easy. It +was a mental impossibility for him as yet to accept the fact that she was +his—he had seen so little of her, her birth was so unwelcome, her coming +into his life fraught with such tragic consequences.</p> + +<p>The vague hope that she might prove weak and uninteresting had not been +strengthened by the momentary sight of her face. The flash of joy that +lighted her sensitive features, though it came across the lawn, had reached +him with a very distinct impression of charm. He dreaded the effect at +close range.</p> + +<p>However, there was no other way. He had to see her and he had to make her +stay impossible. It would be a staggering blow for a girl to be told in the +dawn of young womanhood that her birth was shadowed by disgrace. It would +be a doubly cruel one to tell her that her blood was mixed with a race of +black slaves.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + +<p>And yet a life built on a lie was set on shifting sand. It would not +endure. It was best to build it squarely on the truth, and the sooner the +true foundation was laid the better. There could be no place in our +civilization for a woman of culture and refinement with negro blood in her +veins. More and more the life of such people must become impossible. That +she should remain in the South was unthinkable. That the conditions in the +North were at bottom no better he knew from the experience of his stay in +New York.</p> + +<p>He would tell her the simple, hideous truth, depend on her terror to keep +the secret, and send her abroad. It was the only thing to do.</p> + +<p>He rose with a start at the sound of Tom's voice calling her from the +stairway.</p> + +<p>The answer came in low tones so charged with the quality of emotion that +belongs to a sincere nature that his heart sank at the thought of his task.</p> + +<p>She had only said the most commonplace thing—"All right, I'll be down in a +moment." Yet the tones of her voice were so vibrant with feeling that its +force reached him instantly, and he knew that his interview was going to be +one of the most painful hours of his life.</p> + +<p>And still he was not prepared for the shock her appearance in the shadows +of the tall doorway gave. He had formed no conception of the gracious and +appealing personality. In spite of the anguish her presence had brought, in +spite of preconceived ideas of the inheritance of the vicious nature of her +mother, in spite of his ingrained repugnance to the negroid type, in spite +of his horror of the ghost of his young manhood suddenly risen from the +dead to call him to judgment,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> in spite of his determination to be cruel as +the surgeon to the last—in spite of all, his heart suddenly went out to +her in a wave of sympathy and tenderness!</p> + +<p>She was evidently so pitifully embarrassed and the suffering in her large, +expressive eyes so keen and genuine, his first impulse was to rush to her +side with words of comfort and assurance.</p> + +<p>The simple white dress, with tiny pink ribbons drawn through its edges, +which she wore accentuated the impression of timidity and suffering.</p> + +<p>He was surprised to find not the slightest trace of negroid blood apparent, +though he knew that a mixture of the sixteenth degree often left no trace +until its sudden reversion to a black child.</p> + +<p>Her hair was the deep brown of his own in young manhood, the eyes large and +tender in their rich blue depths—the eyes of innocence, intelligence, +sincerity. The lips were full and fluted, and the chin marked with an +exquisite dimple that gave a childlike wistfulness to a face that without +it might have suggested too much strength.</p> + +<p>Her neck was slightly curved and set on full, strong shoulders with an +unconscious grace. The bust was slight and girlish, the arms and figure +rounded and beautiful in their graceful fullness.</p> + +<p>Her walk, when she took the first few steps into the room and paused, he +saw was the incarnation of rhythmic strength and perfect health.</p> + +<p>But her voice was the climax of her appeal—low, vibrant, quivering with +feeling and full of a subtle quality that convinced the hearer from the +first moment of the truth and purity of its owner.</p> + +<p>She smiled with evident embarrassment at his silence.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> He was stunned for +the moment and simply couldn't speak.</p> + +<p>"So, I see you at last, Major Norton!" she said as the color slowly stole +over her face.</p> + +<p>He recovered himself, walked quickly to meet her and extended his hand:</p> + +<p>"I must apologize for not seeing you earlier this morning," he said +gravely. "I was up all night travelling through the country and slept very +late."</p> + +<p>As her hand rested in his the girl forgot her restraint and wounded pride +at the cold and doubtful reception he had given earlier. Her heart suddenly +beat with a desire to win this grave, strong man's love and respect.</p> + +<p>With a look of girlish tenderness she hastened to say:</p> + +<p>"I want to thank you with the deepest gratitude, major, for your kindness +in inviting me here this summer——"</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it, child," he interrupted frowning.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you only knew," she went on hurriedly, "how I love the South, how +my soul glows under its skies, how I love its people, their old-fashioned +ways, their kindness, their hospitality, their high ideals——"</p> + +<p>He lifted his hand and the gesture stopped her in the midst of a sentence. +He was evidently struggling with an embarrassment that was painful and had +determined to end it.</p> + +<p>"The time has come, Helen," he began firmly—"you're of age—that I should +tell you the important facts about your birth."</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes——" the girl answered in an excited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> whisper as she sank into a +chair and gazed at him fascinated with the terror of his possible +revelation.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could tell you all," he said, pausing painfully.</p> + +<p>"You know—all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know."</p> + +<p>"My father—my mother—they are living?"</p> + +<p>In spite of his effort at self-control Norton was pale and his voice +strained. His answers to her pointed questions were given with his face +turned from her searching gaze.</p> + +<p>"Your mother is living," was the slow reply.</p> + +<p>"And my father?"</p> + +<p>His eyes were set in a fixed stare waiting for this question, as a prisoner +in the dock for the sentence of a judge. His lips gave no answer for the +moment and the girl went on eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Through all the years that I've been alone, the one desperate yearning of +my heart has been to know my father"—the lines of the full lips +quivered—"I've always felt somehow that a mother who could give up her +babe was hardly worth knowing. And so I've brooded over the idea of a +father. I've hoped and dreamed and prayed that he might be living—that I +might see and know him, win his love, and in its warmth and joy, its +shelter and strength—never be lonely or afraid again——"</p> + +<p>Her voice sank to a sob, and Norton, struggling to master his feelings, +said:</p> + +<p>"You have been lonely and afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Utterly lonely! When other girls at school shouted for joy at the approach +of vacation, the thought of home and loved ones, it brought to me only +tears<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> and heartache. Many a night I've laid awake for hours and sobbed +because a girl had asked me about my father and mother. Lonely!—oh, dear +Lord! And always I've dried my eyes with the thought that some day I might +know my father and sob out on his breast all I've felt and suffered"—she +paused, and looked at Norton through a mist of tears—"my father is not +dead?"</p> + +<p>The stillness was painful. The man could hear the tick of the little French +clock on the mantel. How tired his soul was of lies! He couldn't lie to her +in answer to this question. And so without lifting his head he said very +softly:</p> + +<p>"He is also alive."</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" the girl breathed reverently. "Oh, if I could only touch his +hand and look into his face! I don't care who he is, how poor and humble +his home, if it's a log cabin on a mountain side, or a poor white man's +hovel in town, I'll love him and cling to him and make him love me!"</p> + +<p>The man winced. There was one depth her mind had not fathomed!</p> + +<p>How could he push this timid, lonely, haunted creature over such a +precipice! He glanced at her furtively and saw that she was dreaming as in +a trance.</p> + +<p>"But suppose," he said quietly, "you should hate this man when you had +met?"</p> + +<p>"It's unthinkable," was the quick response. "My father is my father. I'd +love him if he were a murderer!"</p> + +<p>Again her mind had failed to sound the black depths into which he was about +to hurl her. She might love a murderer, but there was one thing beyond all +question, this beautiful, sensitive, cultured girl could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> love the man +who had thrust her into the hell of a negroid life in America! She might +conceive of the love of a father who could take human life, but her mind +could not conceive the possibility of facing the truth with which he must +now crush the soul out of her body. Why had he lied and deceived her at +all? The instinctive desire to shield his own blood from a life of +ignominy—yes. But was it worth the risk? No—he knew it when it was too +late. The steel jaws with their cold teeth were tearing the flesh now at +every turn and there was no way of escape.</p> + +<p>When he failed to respond, she rose, pressed close and pleaded eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Tell me his name! Oh, it's wonderful that you have seen him, heard his +voice and held his hand! He may not be far away—tell me——"</p> + +<p>Norton shook his head:</p> + +<p>"The one thing, child, I can never do."</p> + +<p>"You are a father—a father who loves his own—I've seen and know that. A +nameless waif starving for a word of love begs it—just one word of deep, +real love—think of it! My heart has never known it in all the years I've +lived!"</p> + +<p>Norton lifted his hand brusquely:</p> + +<p>"You ask the impossible. The conditions under which I am acting as your +guardian seal my lips."</p> + +<p>The girl looked at him steadily:</p> + +<p>"Then, you are my real guardian?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And why have you not told me before?"</p> + +<p>The question was asked with a firm emphasis that startled him into a sense +of renewed danger.</p> + +<p>"Why?" she repeated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"To avoid questions I couldn't answer."</p> + +<p>"You will answer them now?"</p> + +<p>"With reservations."</p> + +<p>The girl drew herself up with a movement of quiet determination and spoke +in even tones:</p> + +<p>"My parents are Southern?"</p> + +<p>"Yes——"</p> + +<p>"My father and mother were—were"—her voice failed, her head dropped and +in an effort at self-control she walked to the table, took a book in her +hand and tried to turn its leaves. The hideous question over which she had +long brooded was too horrible to put into words. The answer he might give +was too big with tragic possibilities. She tried to speak again and +couldn't. He looked at her with a great pity in his heart and when at last +she spoke her voice was scarcely a whisper:</p> + +<p>"My father and mother were married?"</p> + +<p>He knew it was coming and that he must answer, and yet hesitated. His reply +was low, but it rang through her soul like the stroke of a great bell +tolling for the dead:</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>The book she held slipped from the trembling fingers and fell to the floor. +Norton walked to the window that he might not see the agony in her +sensitive face.</p> + +<p>She stood very still and the tears began slowly to steal down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"God pity me!" she sobbed, lifting her face and looking pathetically at +Norton. "Why did you let them send me to school? Why teach me to think and +feel and know this?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> + +<p>The low, sweet tones of her wonderful voice found the inmost heart of the +man. The misery and loneliness of the orphan years of which she had spoken +were nothing to the anguish with which her being now shook.</p> + +<p>He crossed the room quickly and extended his hand in a movement of +instinctive sympathy and tenderness:</p> + +<p>"Come, come, child—you're young and life is all before you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, a life of shame and humiliation!"</p> + +<p>"The world is wide to-day! A hundred careers are open to you. Marriage is +impossible—yes——"</p> + +<p>"And if I only wish for marriage?" the girl cried with passionate +intensity. "If my ideal is simple and old-fashioned—if all I ask of God is +the love of one man—a home—a baby——"</p> + +<p>A shadow of pain clouded Norton's face and he lifted a hand in tender +warning:</p> + +<p>"Put marriage out of your mind once and for all time! It can only bring to +you and your loved ones hopeless misery."</p> + +<p>Helen turned with a start:</p> + +<p>"Even if the man I love should know all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," was the firm answer.</p> + +<p>She gazed steadily into his eyes and asked with sharp rising emphasis:</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>The question brought him squarely to the last blow he must give if he +accomplish the thing he had begun. He must tell her that her mother is a +negress. He looked at the quivering figure, the white, sensitive, young +face with the deep, serious eyes, and his lips refused<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> to move. He tried +to speak and his throat was dry. It was too cruel. There must be an easier +way. He couldn't strike the sweet uplifted head.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, stammered and said:</p> + +<p>"I—I'm sorry—I can't answer that question fully and frankly. It may be +best, but——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes—it's best!" she urged.</p> + +<p>"It may be best," he repeated, "but I simply can't do it"—he paused, +turned away and suddenly wheeled confronting her:</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you all that you need to know to-day—you were born under the +shadow of a hopeless disgrace——"</p> + +<p>The girl lifted her hand as if to ward a blow while she slowly repeated:</p> + +<p>"A hopeless—disgrace——"</p> + +<p>"Beneath a shadow so deep, no lover's vow can ever lift it from your life. +I should have told you this before, perhaps—well, somehow I couldn't"—he +paused and his voice trembled—"I wanted you to grow in strength and +character first——"</p> + +<p>The girl clenched her hands and sprang in front of him:</p> + +<p>"That my agony might be beyond endurance? Now you <i>must</i> tell me the whole +truth!"</p> + +<p>Again the appealing uplifted face had invited the blow, and again his heart +failed. It was impossible to crush her. It was too horrible. He spoke with +firm decision:</p> + +<p>"Not another word!"</p> + +<p>He turned and walked rapidly to the door. The girl clung desperately to his +arm:</p> + +<p>"I beg of you! I implore you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + +<p>He paused in the doorway, and gently took her hands:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, child, if I seem cruel. In reality I am merciful. I must leave +it just there!"</p> + +<p>He passed quickly out.</p> + +<p>The girl caught the heavy curtains for support, turned with an effort, +staggered back into the room, fell prostrate on the lounge with a cry of +despair, and burst into uncontrollable sobs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>A DISCOVERY</h3> + + +<p>Tom had grown restless waiting for Helen to emerge from the interminable +interview with his father. A half dozen times he had walked past the +library door only to hear the low hum of their voices still talking.</p> + +<p>"What on earth is it all about, I wonder?" he muttered. "Must be telling +her the story of his whole life!"</p> + +<p>He had asked her to meet him in the old rose garden when she came out. For +the dozenth time he strolled in and sat down on their favorite rustic. He +could neither sit still nor content himself with wandering.</p> + +<p>"What the devil's the matter with me anyhow?" he said aloud. "The next +thing I'll be thinking I'm in love—good joke—bah!"</p> + +<p>Helen was not the ideal he had dreamed. She had simply brought a sweet +companionship into his life—that was all. She was a good fellow. She could +walk, ride, run and hold her own at any game he liked to play. He had +walked with her over miles of hills and valleys stretching in every +direction about town. He had never grown tired of these walks. He didn't +have to entertain her. They were silent often for a long time. They sat +down beside the roadway, laughed and talked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> like chums with never a +thought of entertaining each other.</p> + +<p>In the long rides they had taken in the afternoons and sometimes late in +the starlight or moonlight, she had never grown silly, sentimental or +tiresome. A restful and home-like feeling always filled him when she was by +his side. He hadn't thought her very beautiful at first, but the longer he +knew her the more charming and irresistible her companionship became.</p> + +<p>"Her figure's a little too full for the finest type of beauty!" he was +saying to himself now. "Her arms are splendid, but the least bit too big, +and her face sometimes looks too strong for a girl's! It's a pity. Still, +by geeminy, when she smiles she is beautiful! Her face seems to fairly +blossom with funny little dimples—and that one on the chin is awfully +pretty! She just misses by a hair being a stunningly beautiful girl!"</p> + +<p>He flicked a fly from his boot with a switch he was carrying and glanced +anxiously toward the house. "And I must say," he acknowledged judicially, +"that she has a bright mind, her tastes are fine, her ideals high. She +isn't all the time worrying over balls and dresses and beaux like a lot of +silly girls I know. She's got too much sense for that. The fact is, she has +a brilliant mind."</p> + +<p>Now that he came to think of it, she had a mind of rare brilliance. +Everything she said seemed to sparkle. He didn't stop to ask the reason +why, he simply knew that it was so. If she spoke about the weather, her +words never seemed trivial.</p> + +<p>He rose scowling and walked back to the house.</p> + +<p>"What on earth can they be talking about all this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> time?" he cried angrily. +Just then his father's tall figure stepped out on the porch, walked its +length and entered the sitting-room by one of the French windows.</p> + +<p>He sprang up the steps, thrust his head into the hall, and softly whistled. +He waited a moment, there was no response, and he repeated the call. Still +receiving no answer, he entered cautiously:</p> + +<p>"Miss Helen!"</p> + +<p>He tipped to the library door and called again:</p> + +<p>"Miss Helen!"</p> + +<p>Surprised that she could have gone so quickly he rushed into the room, +glanced hastily around, crossed to the window, looked out on the porch, +heard the rustle of a skirt and turned in time to see her flying to escape.</p> + +<p>With a quick dash he headed her off.</p> + +<p>Hiding her face she turned and ran the other way for the door through which +he had entered.</p> + +<p>With a laugh and a swift leap Tom caught her arms.</p> + +<p>"Lord, you're a sprinter!" he cried breathlessly. "But I've got you now!" +he laughed, holding her pinioned arms tightly.</p> + +<p>Helen lifted her tear-stained face:</p> + +<p>"Please——"</p> + +<p>Tom drew her gently around and looked into her eyes:</p> + +<p>"Why—what on earth—you're crying!"</p> + +<p>She tried to draw away but he held her hand firmly:</p> + +<p>"What is it? What's happened? What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>His questions were fired at her with lightning rapidity.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl dropped forlornly on the lounge and turned her face away:</p> + +<p>"Please go!"</p> + +<p>"I won't go—I won't!" he answered firmly as he bent closer.</p> + +<p>"Please—please!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me what it is?"</p> + +<p>Helen held her face resolutely from him.</p> + +<p>"Tell me," he urged tenderly.</p> + +<p>"I can't!"</p> + +<p>She threw herself prostrate and broke into sobs.</p> + +<p>The boy wrung his hands helplessly, started to put his arm around her, +caught himself in time and drew back with a start. At last he burst out +passionately:</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't! For heaven's sake don't! It hurts me more than it does +you—I don't know what it is but it hurts—it hurts inside and it hurts +deep—please!"</p> + +<p>Without lifting her head Helen cried:</p> + +<p>"I don't want to live any more!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that all?" Tom laughed. "I see, you've stubbed your toe and don't +want to live any more!"</p> + +<p>"I mean it!" she broke in desperately.</p> + +<p>"Good joke!" he cried again, laughing. "You don't want to live any more! +Twenty years old and every line of your graceful, young form quivering with +the joy of life—you—you don't want to live! That's great!"</p> + +<p>The girl lifted her dimmed eyes, looked at him a moment, and spoke the +thought that had poisoned her soul—spoke it in hard, bitter accents with a +touch of self-loathing:</p> + +<p>"I've just learned that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, what have you to do with that?" he asked quickly. "Your whole being +shines with truth and purity. What's an accident of birth? You couldn't +choose your parents, could you? You're a nameless orphan and my father is +the attorney of an old fool guardian who lives somewhere in Europe. All +right! The worst thing your worst enemy could say is that you're a child of +love—a great love that leaped all bounds and defied the law—a love that +was madness and staked all life on the issue! That means you're a child of +the gods. Some of the greatest men and women of the world were born like +that. Your own eyes are clear. There's no cloud on your beautiful soul——"</p> + +<p>Tom paused and Helen lifted her face in rapt attention. The boy suddenly +leaped to his feet, turned away and spoke in ecstatic whispers:</p> + +<p>"Good Lord—listen at me—why—I'm making love—great Scott—I'm in love! +The big thing has happened—to me—to me! I feel the thrill of it—the +thing that transforms the world—why—it's like getting religion!"</p> + +<p>He strode back and forth in a frenzy of absurd happiness.</p> + +<p>Helen, smiling through her tears, asked:</p> + +<p>"What are you saying? What are you talking about?"</p> + +<p>With a cry of joy he was at her side, her hand tight gripped in his:</p> + +<p>"Why, that I'm in love, my own—that I love you, my glorious little girl! I +didn't realize it until I saw just now the tears in your eyes and felt the +pain of it. Every day these past weeks you've been stealing into my heart +until now you're my very life! What hurts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> you hurts me—your joys are +mine—your sorrows are mine!"</p> + +<p>Laughing in spite of herself, Helen cried:</p> + +<p>"You—don't realize what you're saying!"</p> + +<p>"No—but I'm beginning to!" he answered with a boyish smile. "And it goes +to my head like wine—I'm mad with its joy! I tell you I love you—I love +you! and you love me—you do love me?"</p> + +<p>The girl struggled, set her lips grimly and said fiercely:</p> + +<p>"No—and I never shall!"</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it?"</p> + +<p>"I do!"</p> + +<p>"You—you—don't love another?"</p> + +<p>"No—no!"</p> + +<p>"Then you <i>do</i> love me!" he cried triumphantly. "You've just <i>got</i> to love +me! I won't take any other answer! Look into my eyes!"</p> + +<p>She turned resolutely away and he took both hands drawing her back until +their eyes met.</p> + +<p>"Your lips say no," he went on, "but your tears, your voice, the tremor of +your hand and the tenderness of your eyes say yes!"</p> + +<p>Helen shook her head:</p> + +<p>"No—no—no!"</p> + +<p>But the last "no" grew feebler than the first and he pressed her hand with +cruel pleading:</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes—yes—say it, dear—please—just once."</p> + +<p>Helen looked at him and then with a cry of joy that was resistless said:</p> + +<p>"God forgive me! I can't help it—yes, yes, yes, I love you—I love you!"</p> + +<p>Tom snatched her to his heart and held her in perfect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> surrender. She +suddenly drew her arms from his neck, crying in dismay:</p> + +<p>"No—no—I don't love you!"</p> + +<p>The boy looked at her with a start and she went on quickly:</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to say it—I meant to say—I hate you!"</p> + +<p>With a cry of pain she threw herself into his arms, clasping his neck and +held him close.</p> + +<p>His hand gently stroked the brown hair while he laughed:</p> + +<p>"Well, if that's the way you hate—keep it up!"</p> + +<p>With an effort she drew back:</p> + +<p>"But I mustn't——"</p> + +<p>"There!" he said, tenderly drawing her close again. "It's all right. It's +no use to struggle. You're mine—mine, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>With a determined effort she freed herself:</p> + +<p>"It's no use, dear, our love is impossible."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!"</p> + +<p>"But you don't realize that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it—I wouldn't believe it if an angel said it. Who dares +to say such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"Your father!"</p> + +<p>"My father?" he repeated in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"He has always known the truth and now that I am of age he has told me——"</p> + +<p>"Told you what?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I said, and warned me that marriage could only bring pain and +sorrow to those I love."</p> + +<p>"He gave you no facts—only these vague warnings?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, more—he told me——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + +<p>She paused and moved behind the table:</p> + +<p>"That my father and mother were never married."</p> + +<p>"Nothing more?" the boy asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"That's enough."</p> + +<p>"Not for me!"</p> + +<p>"Suppose my father were a criminal?"</p> + +<p>"No matter—your soul's as white as snow"</p> + +<p>"Suppose my mother——"</p> + +<p>"I don't care who she was—you're an angel!"</p> + +<p>Helen faced him with strained eagerness:</p> + +<p>"You swear that no stain on my father or mother can ever make the least +difference between us?"</p> + +<p>"I swear it!" he cried grasping her hand. "Come, you're mine!"</p> + +<p>Helen drew back:</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I could only believe it——"</p> + +<p>"You do believe it—come!"</p> + +<p>He opened his arms and she smiled.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do!"</p> + +<p>"Come!"</p> + +<p>Slowly at first, and then with quick, passionate tenderness she threw +herself into his arms:</p> + +<p>"I can't help it, dearest. It's too sweet and wonderful—God help me if I'm +doing wrong!"</p> + +<p>"Wrong!" he exclaimed indignantly. "How can it be wrong, this solemn pledge +of life and love, of body and soul?"</p> + +<p>She lifted her face to his in wonder:</p> + +<p>"And you will dare to tell your father?"</p> + +<p>"In good time, yes. But it's our secret now. Keep it until I say the time +has come for him to know. I'll manage him—promise!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes! How sweet it is to hear you tell me what to do! I shall never be +lonely or afraid again."</p> + +<p>The father's footstep on the porch warned of his approach.</p> + +<p>"Go quickly!" the boy whispered. "I don't want him to see us together +yet—it means too much now—it means life itself!"</p> + +<p>Helen moved toward the door, looked back, laughed, flew again into his arms +and quickly ran into the hall as Norton entered from the porch.</p> + +<p>The boy caught the look of surprise on his father's face, realized that he +must have heard the rustle of Helen's dress, and decided instantly to +accept the fact.</p> + +<p>He boldly walked to the door and gazed after her retreating figure, his +back squarely on his father.</p> + +<p>Norton paused and looked sharply at Tom:</p> + +<p>"Was—that—Helen?"</p> + +<p>The boy turned, smiling, and nodded with slight embarrassment in spite of +his determined effort at self-control:</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>The father's keen eyes pierced the boy's:</p> + +<p>"Why should she run?"</p> + +<p>Tom's face sobered:</p> + +<p>"I don't think she wished to see you just now, sir."</p> + +<p>"Evidently!"</p> + +<p>"She had been crying."</p> + +<p>"And told you why?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>The father frowned:</p> + +<p>"She has been in the habit of making you her confidant?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No. But I found her in tears and asked her the reason for them."</p> + +<p>Norton was watching closely:</p> + +<p>"She told you what I had just said to her?"</p> + +<p>"Vaguely," Tom answered, and turning squarely on his father asked: "Would +you mind telling me the whole truth about it?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>The question came from the father's lips with a sudden snap, so suddenly, +so sharply the boy lost his composure, hung his head, and stammered with an +attempt at a smile:</p> + +<p>"Oh—naturally curious—I suppose it's a secret?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—I wish I could tell you, but I can't"—he paused and spoke with +sudden decision:</p> + +<p>"Ask Cleo to come here."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>THE CHALLENGE</h3> + + +<p>Norton was morally certain now that the boy was interested in Helen. How +far this interest had gone he could only guess.</p> + +<p>What stunned him was that Tom had already taken sides with the girl. He had +not said so in words. But his embarrassment and uneasiness could mean but +one thing. He must move with caution, yet he must act at once and end the +dangerous situation. A clandestine love affair was a hideous possibility. +Up to a moment ago he had held such a thing out of the question with the +boy's high-strung sense of honor and his lack of experience with girls.</p> + +<p>He was afraid now of both the boy and girl. She had convinced him of her +purity when the first words had fallen from her lips. Yet wiser men had +been deceived before. The thought of her sleek, tawny mother came with a +shudder. No daughter could escape such an inheritance.</p> + +<p>There was but one thing to do and it must be done quickly. He would send +Helen abroad and if necessary tell her the whole hideous truth.</p> + +<p>He lifted his head at the sound of Cleo's footsteps, rose and confronted +her. As his deep-set eyes surveyed her he realized that the hour had come +for a fight to the finish.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span></p> + +<p>She gazed at him steadily with a look of undisguised hate:</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>He took a step closer, planted his long legs apart and met her greenish +eyes with an answering flash of rage:</p> + +<p>"When I think of your damned impudence, using my typewriter and letterheads +to send an invitation to that girl to spend the summer here with Tom at +home, and signing my name——"</p> + +<p>"I have the right to use your name with her," she broke in with a sneer.</p> + +<p>"It will be the last time I'll give you the chance."</p> + +<p>"We'll see," was the cool reply.</p> + +<p>Norton slowly drew a chair to the table, seated himself and said:</p> + +<p>"I want the truth from you now."</p> + +<p>"You'll get it. I've never had to lie to you, at least——"</p> + +<p>"I've no time to bandy words—will you tell me exactly what's been going on +between Tom and Helen during my absence in this campaign?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen anything!" was the light answer.</p> + +<p>His lips moved to say that she lied, but he smiled instead. What was the +use? He dropped his voice to a careless, friendly tone:</p> + +<p>"They have seen each other every day?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"How many hours have they usually spent together?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't count them."</p> + +<p>Norton bit his lips to keep back an oath:</p> + +<p>"How often have they been riding?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps a dozen times."</p> + +<p>"They returned late occasionally?"</p> + +<p>"Twice."</p> + +<p>"How late?"</p> + +<p>"It was quite dark——"</p> + +<p>"What time?—eight, nine, ten or eleven o'clock?"</p> + +<p>"As late as nine one night, half-past nine another—the moon was shining." +She said it with a taunting smile.</p> + +<p>"Were they alone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You took pains to leave them alone, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes"—she paused and looked at him with a smile that was a sneer. +"What are you afraid of?"</p> + +<p>He returned her gaze steadily:</p> + +<p>"Anything is possible of your daughter—the thought of it strangles me!"</p> + +<p>Cleo laughed lightly:</p> + +<p>"Then all you've got to do is to speak—tell Tom the truth."</p> + +<p>"I'll die first!" he fiercely replied. "At least I've taught him racial +purity. I've been true to my promise to the dead in this. He shall never +know the depths to which I once fell! You have robbed me of everything else +in life, this boy's love and respect is all that you've left me"—he +stopped, his breast heaving with suppressed passion. "Why—why did you +bring that girl into this house?"</p> + +<p>"I wished to see her—that's enough. For twenty years, I've lived here as a +slave, always waiting and hoping for a sign from you that you were +human——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span></p> + +<p>"For a sign that I'd sink again to your level! Well, I found out twenty +years ago that beneath the skin of every man sleeps an ape and a tiger—I +fought that battle and won——"</p> + +<p>"And I have lost?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I haven't begun to fight yet."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't advise you to try it. I know now that I made a tragic blunder +when I brought you back into this house. I've cursed myself a thousand +times that I didn't put the ocean between us. If my boy hadn't loved you, +if he hadn't slipped his little arms around your neck and clung to you +sobbing out the loneliness of his hungry heart—if I hadn't seen the tears +in your own eyes and known that you had saved his life once—I wouldn't +have made the mistake that I did. But I gave you my word, and I've lived up +to it. I've reared and educated your child and given you the protection of +my home——"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she broke in, "that you might watch and guard me and know that your +secret was safely kept while you've grown to hate me each day with deeper +and fiercer hatred—God!—I've wondered sometimes that you haven't killed +me!"</p> + +<p>Norton's voice sank to a whisper:</p> + +<p>"I've wondered sometimes, too"—a look of anguish swept his face—"but I +gave you my word, and I've kept it."</p> + +<p>"Because you had to keep it!"</p> + +<p>He sprang to his feet:</p> + +<p>"Had to keep it—you say that to me?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"This house is still mine——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But your past is mine!" she cried with a look of triumph.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! We'll see. Helen leaves this house immediately."</p> + +<p>"She shall not!"</p> + +<p>"You refuse to obey my orders?"</p> + +<p>"And what's more," she cried with angry menace, "I refuse to allow you to +put her out!"</p> + +<p>"To <i>allow</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I said it!"</p> + +<p>"So I am your servant? I must ask your permission?—God!—--" he sprang +angrily toward the bell and Cleo stepped defiantly before him:</p> + +<p>"Don't you touch that bell——"</p> + +<p>Norton thrust her aside:</p> + +<p>"Get out of my way!"</p> + +<p>"Ring that bell if you dare!" she hissed.</p> + +<p>"Dare?"</p> + +<p>The woman drew her form erect:</p> + +<p>"If you dare! And in five minutes I'll be in that newspaper office across +the way from yours! The editor doesn't love you. To-morrow morning the +story of your life and mine will blaze on that first page!"</p> + +<p>Norton caught a chair for support, his face paled and he sank slowly to a +seat.</p> + +<p>Cleo leaned toward him, trembling with passion:</p> + +<p>"I'll give you fair warning. There are plenty of negroes to-day your equal +in wealth and culture. Do you think they have been listening to their great +leader's call to battle for nothing—building fine houses, buying land, +piling up money, sending their sons and daughters to college, to come at +your beck and call? You're a fool if you do. They are only waiting their +chance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> to demand social equality and get it. Wealth and culture will give +it in the end, ballot or no ballot. Once rich, white men and women will +come at their command. I've got my chance now to demand my rights of you +and do a turn for the negro race. You've got to recognize Helen before your +son. I've brought her here for that purpose. With her by my side, I'll be +the mistress of this house. Now resign your leadership and get out of this +campaign!"</p> + +<p>With a stamp of her foot she ended her mad speech in sharp, high tones, +turned quickly and started to the door.</p> + +<p>Between set teeth Norton growled:</p> + +<p>"And you think that I'll submit?"</p> + +<p>The woman wheeled suddenly and rushed back to his side, her eyes flaming:</p> + +<p>"You've got to submit—you've got to submit—or begin with me a fight that +can only end in your ruin! I've nothing to lose, and I tell you now that +I'll fight to win, I'll fight to kill! I'll ask no quarter of you and I'll +give none. I'll fight with every ounce of strength I've got, body and +soul—and if I lose I'll still have strength enough left to pull you into +hell with me!"</p> + +<p>Her voice broke in a sob, she pulled herself together, straightened her +figure and cried:</p> + +<p>"Now what are you going to do? What are you going to do? Accept my terms or +fight?"</p> + +<p>Norton's face was livid, his whole being convulsed as he leaped to his feet +and confronted her:</p> + +<p>"I'll fight!"</p> + +<p>"All right! All right!" she said with hysterical passion, backing toward +the door. "I've warned you now—I didn't want to fight—but I'll show +you—I'll show you!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>A SKIRMISH</h3> + + +<p>Norton's fighting blood was up, but he was too good a soldier and too good +a commander to rush into battle without preparation. Cleo's mask was off at +last, and he knew her too well to doubt that she would try to make good her +threat. The fire of hate that had flamed in her greenish eyes was not a +sudden burst of anger, it had been smoldering there for years, eating its +way into the fiber of her being.</p> + +<p>There were three courses open.</p> + +<p>He could accept her demand, acknowledge Helen to his son, establish her in +his home, throw his self-respect to the winds and sink to the woman's +level. It was unthinkable! Besides, the girl would never recover from the +shock. She would disappear or take her own life. He felt it with +instinctive certainty. But the thing which made such a course impossible +was the fact that it meant his daily degradation before the boy. He would +face death without a tremor sooner than this.</p> + +<p>He could defy Cleo and pack Helen off to Europe on the next steamer, and +risk a scandal that would shake the state, overwhelm the party he was +leading, disgrace him not only before his son but before the world, and set +back the cause he had at heart for a generation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was true she might weaken when confronted with the crisis that would +mean the death of her own hopes. Yet the risk was too great to act on such +a possibility. Her defiance had in it all the elements of finality, and he +had accepted it as final.</p> + +<p>The simpler alternative was a temporary solution which would give him time +to think and get his bearings. He could return to the campaign immediately, +take Tom with him, keep him in the field every day until the election, ask +Helen to stay until his return, and after his victory had been achieved +settle with the woman.</p> + +<p>It was the wisest course for many reasons, and among them not the least +that it would completely puzzle Cleo as to his ultimate decision.</p> + +<p>He rang for Andy:</p> + +<p>"Ask Mr. Tom to come here."</p> + +<p>Andy bowed and Norton resumed his seat.</p> + +<p>When Tom entered, the father spoke with quick decision:</p> + +<p>"The situation in this campaign, my boy, is tense and dangerous. I want you +to go with me to-morrow and stay to the finish."</p> + +<p>Tom flushed and there was a moment's pause:</p> + +<p>"Certainly, Dad, if you wish it."</p> + +<p>"We'll start at eight o'clock in the morning and drive through the country +to the next appointment. Fix your business at the office this afternoon, +place your men in charge and be ready to leave promptly at eight. I've some +important writing to do. I'm going to lock myself in my room until it's +done. See that I'm not disturbed except to send Andy up with my supper. +I'll not finish before midnight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll see to it, sir," Tom replied, turned and was gone.</p> + +<p>The father had watched the boy with keen scrutiny every moment and failed +to catch the slightest trace of resentment or of hesitation. The pause he +had made on receiving the request was only an instant of natural surprise.</p> + +<p>Before leaving next morning he sent for Helen who had not appeared at +breakfast.</p> + +<p>She hastened to answer his summons and he found no trace of anger, +resentment or rebellion in her gentle face. Every vestige of the shadow he +had thrown over her life seem to have lifted. A tender smile played about +her lips as she entered the room.</p> + +<p>"You sent for me, major?" she asked with the slightest tremor of timidity +in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered gravely. "I wish you to remain here until Tom and I +return. We'll have a conference then about your future."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she responded simply.</p> + +<p>"I trust you will not find yourself unhappy or embarrassed in remaining +here alone until we return?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not, major, if it is your wish," was the prompt response.</p> + +<p>He bowed and murmured:</p> + +<p>"I'll see you soon."</p> + +<p>Tom waved his hand from the buggy when his father's back was turned and +threw her an audacious kiss over his head as the tall figure bent to climb +into the seat. The girl answered with another from her finger tips which he +caught with a smile.</p> + +<p>Norton's fears of Tom were soon at rest at the sight of his overflowing +boyish spirits. He had entered into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> the adventure of the campaign from the +moment he found himself alone with his father, and apparently without +reservation.</p> + +<p>Through every one of his exciting speeches, when surrounded by hostile +crowds, the father had watched Tom's face with a subconscious smile. At the +slightest noise, the shuffle of a foot, the mutter of a drunken word, or +the movement of a careless listener, the keen eyes of the boy had flashed +and his right arm instinctively moved toward his hip pocket.</p> + +<p>When the bitter struggle had ended, father and son had drawn closer than +ever before in life. They had become chums and comrades.</p> + +<p>Norton had planned his tour to keep him out of town until after the polls +closed on the day of election. They had spent several nights within fifteen +or twenty miles of the Capital, but had avoided home.</p> + +<p>He had planned to arrive at the speaker's stand in the Capitol Square in +time to get the first returns of the election.</p> + +<p>Five thousand people were packed around the bulletin board when they +arrived on a delayed train.</p> + +<p>The first returns indicated that the leader's daring platform had swept the +state by a large majority. The negro race had been disfranchised and the +ballot restored to its original dignity. And much more had been done. The +act was purely political, but its effects on the relations, mental and +moral and physical, of the two races, so evenly divided in the South, would +be tremendous.</p> + +<p>The crowds of cheering men and women felt this instinctively, though it had +not as yet found expression in words.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span></p> + +<p>A half-dozen stalwart men with a rush and a shout seized Norton and lifted +him, blushing and protesting, carried him on their shoulders through the +yelling crowd and placed him on the platform.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely begun his speech when Tom, watching his chance, slipped +hurriedly through the throng and flew to the girl who was waiting with +beating heart for the sound of his footstep.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>LOVE LAUGHS</h3> + + +<p>When Helen had received a brief note from Tom the night before the election +that he would surely reach home the next day, she snatched his picture from +the library table with a cry of joy and rushed to her room.</p> + +<p>She placed the little gold frame on her bureau, sat down before it and +poured out her heart in silly speeches of love, pausing to laugh and kiss +the glass that saved the miniature from ruin. The portrait was an exquisite +work of art on ivory which the father had commisioned a painter in New York +to do in celebration of Tom's coming of age. The artist had caught the +boy's spirit in the tender smile that played about his lips and lingered in +the corners of his blue eyes, the same eyes and lips in line and color in +the dainty little mother's portrait over the mantel.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you big, handsome, brave, glorious boy!" she cried in ecstasy. "My +sweetheart--so generous, so clean, so strong, so free in soul! I love +you--I love you--I love you!"</p> + +<p>She fell asleep at last with the oval frame clasped tight in one hand +thrust under her pillow. A sound sleep was impossible, the busy brain was +too active. Again and again she waked with a start, thinking she had heard +his swift footfall on the stoop.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span></p> + +<p>At daybreak she leaped to her feet and found herself in the middle of the +room laughing when she came to herself, the precious picture still clasped +in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, foolish heart, wake up!" she cried with another laugh. "It's dawn, and +my lover is coming! It's his day! No more sleep—it's too wonderful! I'm +going to count every hour until I hear his step—every minute of every +hour, foolish heart!"</p> + +<p>She looked out the window and it was raining. The overhanging boughs of the +oaks were dripping on the tin roof of the bay window in which she was +standing. She had dreamed of a wonderful sunrise this morning. But it +didn't matter—the rain didn't matter. The slow, familiar dropping on the +roof suggested the nearness of her lover. They would sit in some shadowy +corner hand in hand and love all the more tenderly. The raindrops were the +drum beat of a band playing the march that was bringing him nearer with +each throb. The mocking-bird that had often waked her with his song was +silent, hovering somewhere in a tree beneath the thick leaves. She had +expected him to call her to-day with the sweetest lyric he had ever sung. +Somehow it didn't matter. Her soul was singing the song that makes all +other music dumb.</p> + +<p>"My love is coming!" she murmured joyfully. "My love is coming!"</p> + +<p>And then she stood for an hour in brooding, happy silence and watched the +ghost-like trees come slowly out of the mists. To her shining eyes there +were no mists. The gray film that hung over the waking world was a bridal +veil hiding the blushing face of the earth from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> the sun-god lover who was +on his way over the hills to clasp her in his burning arms!</p> + +<p>For the first time in her memory she was supremely happy.</p> + +<p>Every throb of pain that belonged to the past was lost in the sea of joy on +which her soul had set sail. In the glory of his love pain was only another +name for joy. All she had suffered was but the preparation for this supreme +good. It was all the more wonderful, this fairy world into which she had +entered, because the shadows had been so deep in her lonely childhood.</p> + +<p>There really hadn't been any past! She couldn't remember the time she had +not known and loved Tom. Love filled the universe, past, present and +future. There was no task too hard for her hands, no danger she was not +ready to meet. The hungry heart had found its own.</p> + +<p>Through the long hours of the day she waited without impatience. Each tick +of the tiny clock on the mantel brought him nearer. The hands couldn't turn +back! She watched them with a smile as she sat in the gathering twilight.</p> + +<p>She had placed the miniature back in its place and sat where her eye caught +the smile from his lips when she lifted her head from the embroidery on her +lap.</p> + +<p>The band was playing a stirring strain in the Square. She could hear the +tumult and the shouts of the crowds about the speaker's stand as they read +the bulletins of the election. The darkness couldn't hold him many more +minutes.</p> + +<p>She rose with a soft laugh and turned on the lights, walked to the window, +looked out and listened to the roar of the cheering when Norton made his +appearance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> The band struck up another stirring piece. Yes, it was "Hail +to the Chief!" He had come.</p> + +<p>She counted the minutes it would take for him to elude his father and reach +the house. She pictured the smile on his face as he threaded his way +through the throng and started to her on swift feet. She could see him +coming with the long, quick stride he had inherited from his father.</p> + +<p>She turned back into the room exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Oh, foolish heart, be still!"</p> + +<p>She seated herself again and waited patiently, a smile about the corners of +her lips and another playing hide and seek in the depths of her expressive +eyes.</p> + +<p>Tom had entered the house unobserved by any one and softly tipped into the +library from the door directly behind her. He paused, removed his hat, +dropped it silently into a chair and stood looking at the graceful, +beautiful form bending over her work. The picture of this waiting figure he +had seen in his day-dreams a thousand times and yet it was so sweet and +wonderful he had to stop and drink in the glory of it for a moment.</p> + +<p>A joyous laugh was bubbling in his heart as he tipped softly over the thick +yielding rug and slipped his hands over her eyes. His voice was the +gentlest whisper:</p> + +<p>"Guess?"</p> + +<p>The white figure slowly rose and her words came in little ripples of +gasping laughter as she turned and lifted her arms:</p> + +<p>"It's—it's—Tom!"</p> + +<p>With a smothered cry she was on his breast. He held her long and close +without a word. His voice had a queer hitch in it as he murmured:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Helen—my darling!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought you'd never come!" she sighed, looking up through her tears.</p> + +<p>Tom held her off and gazed into her eyes:</p> + +<p>"It's been a century since I've seen you! I did my level best when we got +into these nearby counties again, but I couldn't shake Dad once this week. +He watched me like a hawk and insisted on staying out of town till the very +last hour of the election to-day. Did old Andy find out I slipped in last +week?"</p> + +<p>"No!" she laughed.</p> + +<p>"Did Cleo find it out?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You're sure Cleo didn't find out?"</p> + +<p>"Sure—but Aunt Minerva did."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not afraid of her—kiss me!"</p> + +<p>With a glad cry their lips met.</p> + +<p>He held her off.</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid of anything!"</p> + +<p>With an answering laugh, she kissed him again.</p> + +<p>"I'm not afraid of Dad!" he said in tones of mock tragedy. "Once more!"</p> + +<p>She gently disengaged herself, asking:</p> + +<p>"How did you get away from him so quickly?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's making a speech to the crowd in the Square proclaiming victory +and so"—his voice fell to a whisper—"I flew to celebrate mine!"</p> + +<p>"Won't he miss you?"</p> + +<p>"Not while he's talking. Dad enjoys an eloquent speech—especially one of +his own——"</p> + +<p>He stopped abruptly, took a step toward her and cried:</p> + +<p>"Say! Do you know what the Governor of North<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> Carolina said once upon a +time to the Governor of South Carolina?"</p> + +<p>Helen laughed:</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>He opened his arms:</p> + +<p>"'It strikes me,' said he, 'that it's a long time between drinks!'"</p> + +<p>Again her arms flashed around his neck.</p> + +<p>"Did you miss me?"</p> + +<p>"Dreadfully!" she sighed. "But I've been happy—happy in your love—oh, so +happy, dearest!"</p> + +<p>"Well, if Dad wins this election to-night," he said with a boyish smile, +"I'm going to tell him. Now's the time—no more slipping and sliding!"—he +paused, rushed to the window and looked out—"come, the clouds have lifted +and the moon is rising. Our old seat among the roses is waiting."</p> + +<p>With a look of utter happiness she slipped her arm in his and they strolled +across the lawn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>"FIGHT IT OUT!"</h3> + + +<p>Cleo had heard the shouts in the square with increasing dread. The hour was +rapidly approaching when she must face Norton.</p> + +<p>She had deeply regretted the last scene with him when she had completely +lost her head. For the first time in her life she had dared to say things +that could not be forgiven. They had lived an armed truce for twenty years. +She had endured it in the hope of a change in his attitude, but she had +driven him to uncontrollable fury now by her angry outburst and spoken +words that could not be unsaid.</p> + +<p>She realized when too late that he would never forgive these insults. And +she began to wonder nervously what form his revenge would take. That he had +matured a definite plan of hostile action which he would put into force on +his arrival, she did not doubt.</p> + +<p>Why had she been so foolish? She asked herself the question a hundred +times. And yet the clash was inevitable. She could not see Helen packed off +to Europe and her hopes destroyed at a blow. She might have stopped him +with something milder than a threat of exposure in his rival's paper. That +was the mad thing she had done.</p> + +<p>What effect this threat had produced on his mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> she could only guess. But +she constantly came back to it with increasing fear. If he should accept +her challenge, dare her to speak, and, weary of the constant strain of her +presence in his house, put her out, it meant the end of the world. She had +lived so long in dependence on his will, the thought of beginning life +again under new conditions of humiliating service was unthinkable.</p> + +<p>She could only wait now until the blow fell, and adjust herself to the +situation as best she could. That she had the power to lay his life in +ruins and break Tom's heart she had never doubted. Yet this was the one +thing she did not wish to do. It meant too much to her.</p> + +<p>She walked on the porch and listened again to the tumult in the Square. She +had seen Tom enter the house on tip-toe and knew that the lovers were +together and smiled in grim triumph. That much of her scheme had not +failed! It only remained to be seen whether, with their love an +accomplished fact, she could wring from Norton's lips the confession she +had demanded and save her own skin in the crash.</p> + +<p>Andy had entered the gate and she heard him bustling in the pantry as Tom +and Helen strolled on the lawn. The band in the Square was playing their +star piece of rag-time music, "A Georgia Campmeeting."</p> + +<p>The stirring refrain echoed over the sleepy old town with a weird appeal +to-night. It had the ring of martial music—of hosts shouting their victory +as they marched. They were playing it with unusual swinging power.</p> + +<p>She turned with a gesture of impatience into the house to find Andy. He was +carrying a tray of mint juleps into the library.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cleo looked at him in amazement, suppressed an angry exclamation and asked:</p> + +<p>"What's that band playing for?"</p> + +<p>"White folks celebratin' de victory!" he replied enthusiastically, placing +the tray on the table.</p> + +<p>"It's only seven o'clock. The election returns can't be in yet?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam! Hit's all over but de shoutin'!"</p> + +<p>Cleo moved a step closer:</p> + +<p>"The major has won?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam! Yassam!" Andy answered with loud good humor, as he began to polish +a glass with a napkin. "Yassam, I des come frum dar. De news done come in. +Dey hain't gwine ter 'low de niggers ter vote no mo', 'ceptin they kin read +an' write—an' <i>den</i> dey won't let 'em!"</p> + +<p>He held one of the shining glasses up to the light, examined it with +judicial care and continued in tones of resignation:</p> + +<p>"Don't make no diffrunce ter me, dough!—I hain't nebber got nuttin' fer my +vote nohow, 'ceptin' once when er politicioner shoved er box er cigars at +me"—he chuckled—"an' den, by golly, I had ter be a gemman, I couldn't +grab er whole handful—I des tuck four!"</p> + +<p>Cleo moved impatiently and glared at the tray:</p> + +<p>"What on earth did you bring all that stuff for? The whole mob are not +coming here, are they?"</p> + +<p>"Nobum—nobum! Nobody but de major, but I 'low dat he gwine ter consume +some! He's on er high hoss. Dey's 'bout ten thousand folks up dar in de +Square. De boys carry de major on dere back to de flatform an' he make 'em +a big speech. Dey sho is er-raisin' er<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> mighty humbug. Dey gwine ter +celebrate all night out dar, an' gwine ter serenade everybody in town. But +de major comin' right home. Dey try ter git him ter stay wid 'em, but he +'low dat he got some 'portant business here at de house."</p> + +<p>"Important business here?" she asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yassam, I spec him any minute."</p> + +<p>Cleo turned quickly toward the door and Andy called:</p> + +<p>"Miss Cleo!"</p> + +<p>She continued to go without paying any attention and he repeated his call:</p> + +<p>"Miss Cleo!"</p> + +<p>She paused indifferently, while Andy touched his lips smiling:</p> + +<p>"I got my mouf shet!"</p> + +<p>"Does it pain you?"</p> + +<p>"Nobum!" he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Keep it shut!" she replied contemptuously as she again moved toward the +door.</p> + +<p>"Yassam—yassam—but ain't yer got nuttin' mo' dan dat ter say ter me?"</p> + +<p>He asked this question with a rising inflection that might mean a threat.</p> + +<p>The woman walked back to him:</p> + +<p>"Prove your love by a year's silence——"</p> + +<p>"De Lawd er mussy!" Andy gasped. "A whole year?"</p> + +<p>"Am I not worth waiting for?" she asked with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Yassam—yassam," he replied slowly, "Jacob he wait seben years an' den, by +golly, de ole man cheat him outen his gal! But ef yer say so, I'se +er-waitin', honey——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span></p> + +<p>Andy placated, her mind returned in a flash to the fear that haunted her:</p> + +<p>"He said important business here at once?"</p> + +<p>The gate closed with a vigorous slam and the echo of Norton's step was +heard on the gravel walk.</p> + +<p>"Yassam, dar he is now."</p> + +<p>Cleo trembled and hurried to the opposite door:</p> + +<p>"If the major asks for me, tell him I've gone to the meeting in the +Square."</p> + +<p>She passed quickly from the room in a panic of fear. She couldn't meet him +in this condition. She must wait a better moment.</p> + +<p>Andy, arranging his tray, began to mix three mint juleps, humming a +favorite song:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Dis time er-nudder year,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, Lawd, how long!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In some lonesome graveyard—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Woh, Lawd, how long!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Norton paused on the threshold with a smile and listened to the foolish +melody. His whole being was quivering with the power that thrilled from a +great act of will. He had just made a momentous decision. His work in hand +was done. He had lived for years in an atmosphere poisoned by a yellow +venomous presence. He had resolved to be free!—no matter what the cost.</p> + +<p>His mind flew to the boy he had grown to love with deeper tenderness the +past weeks. The only thing he really dreaded was his humiliation before +those blue eyes. But, if the worst came to worst, he must speak. There were +things darker than death—the consciousness to a proud and sensitive man +that he was the slave to an inferior was one of them. He had to be +free—free<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> at any cost. The thought was an inspiration.</p> + +<p>With brisk step he entered the library and glanced with surprise at the +empty room.</p> + +<p>"Tom not come?" he asked briskly.</p> + +<p>"Nasah, I ain't seed 'im," Andy replied.</p> + +<p>Norton threw his linen coat on a chair, and a dreamy look came into his +deep-set eyes:</p> + +<p>"Well, Andy, we've made a clean sweep to-day—the old state's white again!"</p> + +<p>The negro, bustling over his tray, replied with unction:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, dat's what I done tole 'em, sah!"</p> + +<p>"All government rests on force, Andy! The ballot is force—physical force. +Back of every ballot is a gun——"</p> + +<p>He paused, drew the revolver slowly from his pocket and held it in his +hand.</p> + +<p>Andy glanced up from his tray and jumped in alarm:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, dat's so, sah—in dese parts sho, sah!" he ended his speech by a +good-natured laugh at the expense of the country that allowed itself to be +thus intimidated.</p> + +<p>Norton lifted the gleaming piece of steel and looked at it thoughtfully:</p> + +<p>"Back of every ballot a gun and the red blood of the man who holds it! No +freeman ever yet voted away his right to a revolution——"</p> + +<p>"Yassah—dat's what I tells dem niggers—you gwine ter giv 'em er dose er +de revolution——"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's done now and I've no more use for this thing—thank God!"</p> + +<p>He crossed to the writing desk, laid the revolver on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> its top and walked to +the lounge his face set with a look of brooding intensity:</p> + +<p>"Bah! The big battles are all fought inside, Andy! There's where the brave +die and cowards run—inside——"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!—I got de stuff right here fer de <i>inside</i>, sah!" he held up the +decanter with a grin.</p> + +<p>"From to-night my work outside is done," Norton went on moodily. "And I'm +going to be free—free! I'm no longer afraid of one of my servants——"</p> + +<p>He dropped into a seat and closed his fists with a gesture of intense +emotion.</p> + +<p>Andy looked at him in astonishment and asked incredulously:</p> + +<p>"Who de debbil say you'se er scared of any nigger? Show dat man ter me—who +say dat?"</p> + +<p>"I say it!" was the bitter answer. He had been thinking aloud, but now that +the negro had heard he didn't care. His soul was sick of subterfuge and +lies.</p> + +<p>Andy laughed apologetically:</p> + +<p>"Yassah! Cose, sah, ef you say dat hit's so, why I say hit's so—but all de +same, 'twixt you an' me, I knows tain't so!"</p> + +<p>"But from to-night!" Norton cried, ignoring Andy as he sprang to his feet +and looked sharply about the room:</p> + +<p>"Tell Cleo I wish to see her at once!"</p> + +<p>"She gone out in de Squar ter hear de news, sah."</p> + +<p>"The moment she comes let me know!" he said with sharp emphasis and turned +quickly to the door.</p> + +<p>"Yassah," Andy answered watching him go with amazement. "De Lawdy, major, +you ain't gwine off an' leave dese mint juleps lak dat, is ye?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton retraced a step:</p> + +<p>"Yes, from to-night I'm the master of my house and myself!"</p> + +<p>Andy looked at the tray and then at Norton:</p> + +<p>"Well, sah, yer ain't got no objections to me pizinin' mysef, is ye?"</p> + +<p>The master surveyed the grinning servant, glanced at the tray, smiled and +said:</p> + +<p>"No—you'll do it anyhow, so go as far as you like!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!" the negro laughed as Norton turned again. "An' please, sah, won't +yer gimme jes a little advice befo' you go?"</p> + +<p>Norton turned a puzzled face on the grinning black one:</p> + +<p>"Advice?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah. What I wants ter know, major, is dis. Sposen, sah, dat a gemman +got ter take his choice twixt marryin' er lady dat's forcin' herself on +'im, er kill hissef?"</p> + +<p>"Kill her!"</p> + +<p>Andy broke into a loud laugh:</p> + +<p>"Yassah! but she's er dangous 'oman, sah! She's a fighter from +Fightersville—an' fuddermo', sah, I'se engaged to annudder lady at the +same time—an' I'se in lub wid dat one an' skeered er de fust one."</p> + +<p>"Face it, then. Confess your love and fight it out! Fight it out and let +them fight it out. You like to see a fight, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah! Oh, yassah," Andy declared bravely. "I likes ter see a fight—I +likes ter see de fur fly—but I don't care 'bout furnishin' none er de +fur!"</p> + +<p>Norton had reached the door when he suddenly turned, the momentary humor of +his play with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> negro gone from his sombre face, the tragedy of a life +speaking in every tone as he slowly said:</p> + +<p>"Fight it out! It's the only thing to do—fight it out!"</p> + +<p>Andy stared at the retreating figure dazed by the violence of passion with +which his master had answered, wondering vaguely what could be the meaning +of the threat behind his last words.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>ANDY FIGHTS</h3> + + +<p>When Andy had recovered from his surprise at the violence of Norton's +parting advice his eye suddenly rested on the tray of untouched mint +juleps.</p> + +<p>A broad smile broke over his black countenance:</p> + +<p>"Fight it out! Fight it out!" he exclaimed with a quick movement toward the +table. "Yassah, I'm gwine do it, too, I is!"</p> + +<p>He paused before the array of filled glasses of the iced beverage, saluted +silently, and raised one high over his head to all imaginary friends who +might be present. His eye rested on the portrait of General Lee. He bowed +and saluted again. Further on hung Stonewall Jackson. He lifted his glass +to him, and last to Norton's grandfather in his blue and yellow colonial +regimentals. He pressed the glass to his thirsty lips and waved the julep a +jovial farewell with the palm of his left hand as he poured it gently but +firmly down to the last drop.</p> + +<p>He smacked his lips, drew a long breath and sighed:</p> + +<p>"Put ernuff er dat stuff inside er me, I kin fight er wil'cat! Yassah, an' +I gwine do it. I gwine ter be rough wid her, too! Rough wid her, I is!"</p> + +<p>He seized another glass and drained half of it, drew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> himself up with +determination, walked to the door leading to the hall toward the kitchen +and called:</p> + +<p>"Miss Minerva!"</p> + +<p>Receiving no answer, he returned quickly to the tray and took another +drink:</p> + +<p>"Rough wid her—dat's de way—rough wid her!"</p> + +<p>He pulled his vest down with a vicious jerk, bravely took one step, paused, +reached back, picked up his glass again, drained it, and walked to the +door.</p> + +<p>"Miss Minerva!" he called loudly and fiercely.</p> + +<p>From the kitchen came the answer in tender tones:</p> + +<p>"Yas—honey!"</p> + +<p>Andy retreated hastily to the table and took another drink before the huge +but smiling figure appeared in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Did my true love call?" she asked softly.</p> + +<p>Andy groaned, grasped a glass and quickly poured another drink of Dutch +courage down. "Yassam, Miss Minerva, I thought I hear yer out dar——"</p> + +<p>Minerva giggled as lightly as she could considering her two hundred and +fifty pounds:</p> + +<p>"Yas, honey, hit's little me!"</p> + +<p>Andy had begun to feel the bracing effects of the two full glasses of mint +juleps. He put his hands in his pockets, walked with springing strides to +the other end of the room, returned and squared himself impressively before +Minerva. Before he could speak his courage began to fail and he stuttered:</p> + +<p>"M-M-M-Miss Minerva!"</p> + +<p>The good-humored, shining black face was raised in sharp surprise:</p> + +<p>"What de matter wid you, man, er hoppin' roun' over de flo' lak er flea in +er hot skillet?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> + +<p>Andy saw that the time had come when he must speak unless he meant to again +ignominiously surrender. He began boldly:</p> + +<p>"Miss Minerva! I got somethin' scandalous ter say ter you!"</p> + +<p>She glared at him, the whites of her eyes shining ominously, crossed the +room quickly and confronted Andy:</p> + +<p>"Don't yer dar' say nuttin' scandalizin' ter me, sah!"</p> + +<p>His eyes fell and he moved as if to retreat. She nudged him gently:</p> + +<p>"G'long, man, what is it?"</p> + +<p>He took courage:</p> + +<p>"I got ter 'fess ter you, m'am, dat I'se tangled up wid annuder 'oman!"</p> + +<p>The black face suddenly flashed with wrath, and her figure was electric +with battle. The very pores of her dusky skin seemed to radiate war.</p> + +<p>"Who bin tryin' ter steal you?" she cried. "Des sho' her ter me, an' we see +who's who!"</p> + +<p>Andy waved his hands in a conciliatory self-accusing gesture:</p> + +<p>"Yassam—yassam! But I make er fool outen myse'f about her—hit's Miss +Cleo!"</p> + +<p>"Cleo!" Minerva gasped, staggering back until her form collided with the +table and rattled the glasses on the tray. At the sound of the tinkling +glass, she turned, grasped a mint julep, and drank the whole of it at a +single effort.</p> + +<p>Andy, who had been working on a figure in the rug with the toe of his shoe +during his confession, looked up, saw that she had captured his +inspiration, and sprang back in alarm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span></p> + +<p>Minerva paused but a moment for breath and rushed for him:</p> + +<p>"Dat yaller Jezebel!—tryin' ter fling er spell over you—but I gwine ter +save ye, honey!"</p> + +<p>Andy retreated behind the lounge, his ample protector hot on his heels:</p> + +<p>"Yassam!" he cried, "but I don't want ter be saved!"</p> + +<p>Before he had finished the plea, she had pinned him in a corner and cut off +retreat.</p> + +<p>"Of course yer don't!" she answered generously. "No po' sinner ever does. +But don't yer fret, honey, I'se gwine ter save ye in spite er yosef! Yer +needn't ter kick, yer needn't ter scramble, now's de time ye needs me, an +I'se gwine ter stan' by ye. Nuttin' kin shake me loose now!"</p> + +<p>She took a step toward him and he vainly tried to dodge. It was useless. +She hurled her ample form straight on him and lifted her arms for a +generous embrace:</p> + +<p>"Lordy, man, dat make me lub yer er hundred times mo!"</p> + +<p>Andy made up his mind in a sudden burst of courage to fight for his life. +If she once got those arms about him he was gone. He grasped them roughly +and stayed the onset:</p> + +<p>"Yassam!" he answered warningly. "But I got ter 'fess up ter you now de +whole truf. I bin er deceivin' you 'bout myself. I'se er bad nigger, Miss +Minerva, an' I hain't worthy ter be you' husban'!"</p> + +<p>"G'long, chile, I done know dat all de time!" she laughed.</p> + +<p>Andy walled his eyes at her uneasily, and she continued:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But I likes ter hear ye talk humble dat a way—hit's a good sign."</p> + +<p>He shook his head impatiently:</p> + +<p>"But ye don't know what I means!"</p> + +<p>"Why, of cose, I does!" she replied genially. "I always knowed dat I wuz +high above ye. I'se black, but I'se pure ez de drivellin' snow. I always +knowed, honey, dat ye wern't my equal. But ye can't help dat. I'se er born +'ristocrat. My mudder was er African princess. My grandmudder wuz er +queen—an' I'se er cook!"</p> + +<p>Andy stamped his foot with angry impatience;</p> + +<p>"Yassam—but ye git dat all wrong!"</p> + +<p>"Cose, you' Minerva understan's when ye comes along side er yo' true love +dat ye feels humble——"</p> + +<p>"Nobum! Nobum!" he broke in emphatically—"ye got dat all wrong—all +wrong!" He paused, drew a chair to the table and motioned her to a seat +opposite.</p> + +<p>"Des lemme tell ye now," he continued with determined kindness. "Ye see I +got ter 'fess de whole truf ter you. Tain't right ter fool ye."</p> + +<p>Minerva seated herself, complacently murmuring:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, dat's so, Brer Andy."</p> + +<p>He leaned over the table and looked at her a moment solemnly:</p> + +<p>"I gotter 'fess ter you now, Miss Minerva, dat I'se always bin a bad +nigger—what dey calls er pizen bad nigger—I'se er wife beater!"</p> + +<p>Minerva's eyes walled in amazement:</p> + +<p>"No?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam," he went on seriously. "When I wuz married afore I got de habit er +beatin' my wife!"</p> + +<p>"Beat her?"</p> + +<p>Andy shook his head dolefully:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yassam. Hit's des lak I tell ye. I hates ter 'fess hit ter you, m'am, but +I formed de habit, same ez drinkin' licker—I beat her! I des couldn't keep +my hands offen her. I beat her scandalous! I pay no tenshun to her +hollerin!—huh!—de louder she holler, 'pears lak de harder I beat her!"</p> + +<p>"My, my, ain't dat terrible!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Yassam——"</p> + +<p>"Scandalous!"</p> + +<p>"Dat it is——"</p> + +<p>"Sinful!"</p> + +<p>"Jes so!" he agreed sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"But man!" she cried ecstatically, "dat's what I calls er husband!"</p> + +<p>"Hey?"</p> + +<p>"Dat's de man fer me!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her in dismay, snatched the decanter, poured himself a +straight drink of whiskey, gulped it down, leaned over the table and +returned to his task with renewed vigor:</p> + +<p>"But I kin see, m'am, dat yer don't know what I means! I didn't des switch +'er wid er cowhide er de buggy whip! I got in er regular habit er lammin' +her wid anything I git hold of—wid er axe handle or wid er fire +shovel——"</p> + +<p>"Well, dat's all right," Minerva interrupted admiringly. "She had de same +chance ez you! I takes my chances. What I wants is er husban'—a husban' +dat's got de sand in his gizzard! Dat fust husban' er mine weren't no good +'tall—nebber hit me in his life but once—slap me in de face one day, lak +dat!"</p> + +<p>She gave a contemptuous imitation of the trivial blow with the palms of her +hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> + +<p>"An' what'd you do, m'am?" Andy asked with sudden suspicion.</p> + +<p>"Nuttin' 'tall!" she said with a smile. "I des laf, haul off, kinder +playful lak, an' knock 'im down wid de flatiron——"</p> + +<p>Andy leaped to his feet and walked around the table toward the door:</p> + +<p>"Wid de flatiron!" he repeated incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Didn't hit 'im hard!" Minerva laughed. "But he tumble on de flo' lak er +ten-pin in er bowlin' alley. I stan' dar waitin' fer 'im ter git up an' +come ergin, an' what ye reckon he done?"</p> + +<p>"I dunno, m'am," Andy sighed, wiping the perspiration from his forehead.</p> + +<p>Minerva laughed joyously at the memory of the scene:</p> + +<p>"He jump up an' run des lak er turkey! He run all de way down town, an' +bless God ef he didn't buy me a new calico dress an' fotch hit home ter me. +He warn't no man at all! I wuz dat sorry fer 'im an' dat ershamed er him I +couldn't look 'im in de face ergin. I gits er divorce frum him——"</p> + +<p>She paused, rose, and looked at Andy with tender admiration:</p> + +<p>"But, Lordy, honey, you an' me's gwine ter have joyful times!"</p> + +<p>Andy made a break for the door but she was too quick for him. With a swift +swinging movement, astonishing in its rapidity for her size, she threw +herself on him and her arms encircled his neck:</p> + +<p>"I'se yo' woman an' you'se my man!" she cried with a finality that left her +victim without a ray of hope. He was muttering incoherent protests when +Helen's laughing voice came to his rescue:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oho!" she cried, with finger uplifted in a teasing gesture.</p> + +<p>Minerva loosed her grip on Andy overwhelmed with embarrassment, while he +crouched behind her figure crying:</p> + +<p>"'Twa'n't me, Miss Helen—'twa'n't me!"</p> + +<p>Helen continued to laugh while Andy grasped the tray and beat a hasty +retreat.</p> + +<p>Helen approached Minerva teasingly:</p> + +<p>"Why, Aunt Minerva!"</p> + +<p>The big, jovial black woman glanced at her:</p> + +<p>"G'way, chile—g'way frum here!"</p> + +<p>"Aunt Minerva, I wouldn't have thought such a thing of you!" Helen said +demurely.</p> + +<p>Minerva broke into a jolly laugh and faced her tormentor:</p> + +<p>"Yassum, honey, I spec hit wuz all my fault. Love's such foolishness—yer +knows how dat is yosef!"</p> + +<p>A look of rapture overspread Helen's face:</p> + +<p>"Such a sweet, wonderful foolishness, Aunt Minerva!"—she paused and her +voice was trembling when she added—"It makes us all akin, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam, an' I sho' is glad ter see you so happy!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm too happy, Aunt Minerva, it frightens me"—she stopped, glanced at +the door, drew nearer and continued in low tones: "I've just left Tom out +there on the lawn, to ask you to do something for me."</p> + +<p>"Yassam."</p> + +<p>"I want you to tell the major our secret to-night. He'll be proud and happy +in his victory and I want him to know at once."</p> + +<p>The black woman shook her head dubiously:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tell him yosef, honey!"</p> + +<p>"But I'm afraid. The major frightens me. When I look into his deep eyes I +feel that he has the power to crush the soul out of my body and that he +will do it if I make him very angry."</p> + +<p>"Dat's 'cause yer deceives him, child."</p> + +<p>"Please tell him for us, Aunt Minerva! Oh, you've been so good to me! For +the past weeks I've been in heaven. It seems only a day instead of a month +since he told me his love and then it seems I've lived through all eternity +since I first felt his arms about me. Sitting out there in the moonlight by +his side I forget that I'm on earth, forget that there's a pain or a secret +in it. I'm just in heaven. I have to pinch myself to see if it's real"—she +smiled and pinched her arm—"I'm afraid I'll wake up and find it only a +dream!"</p> + +<p>"Well, yer better wake up just er minute an' tell de major—Mister Tom got +ter have it out wid him."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, and that's what scares me. Won't you tell him for us right +away? Get him in a good humor, make him laugh, say a good word for us and +then tell him. Tell him how useless it will be to oppose us. He can't hold +out long against Tom, he loves him so."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Tom want me ter tell de major ter-night? He ax yer ter see me?"</p> + +<p>"No. He doesn't know what I came for. I just decided all of a sudden to +come. I want to surprise him. He is going to tell his father himself +to-night. But somehow I'm afraid, Aunt Minerva. I want you to help us. You +will, won't you?"</p> + +<p>The black woman shook her head emphatically:</p> + +<p>"Nasah, I ain't gwine ter git mixed up in dis thing!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aunt Minerva!"</p> + +<p>"Nasah—I'se skeered!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, please?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah!"</p> + +<p>"Please——"</p> + +<p>"Na, na, na!"</p> + +<p>"Aunt Minerva——"</p> + +<p>"Na———"</p> + +<p>The girl's pleading eyes were resistless and the black lips smiled:</p> + +<p>"Cose I will, chile! Cose I will—I'll see 'im right away. I'll tell him de +minute I lays my eyes on 'im."</p> + +<p>She turned to go and ran squarely into Norton as he strode into the room. +She stopped and stammered:</p> + +<p>"Why—why—wuz yer lookin' fer me, major?"</p> + +<p>Norton gazed at her a moment and couldn't call his mind from its painful +train of thought. He spoke finally with sharp accent:</p> + +<p>"No. I want to see Cleo."</p> + +<p>Helen slipped behind Minerva:</p> + +<p>"Stay and tell him now. I'll go."</p> + +<p>"No, better wait," was her low reply, as she watched Norton furtively. "I +don't like de way his eyes er spittin' fire."</p> + +<p>Norton turned to Minerva sharply:</p> + +<p>"Find Cleo and tell her I wish to see her immediately!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah—yassah!" Minerva answered, nervously, whispering to Helen: "Come +on, honey—git outen here—come on!"</p> + +<p>Helen followed mechanically, glancing timidly back over her shoulder at +Norton's drawn face.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>THE SECOND BLOW</h3> + + +<p>Norton could scarcely control his eagerness to face the woman he loathed. +Every nerve of his body tingled with the agony of his desire to be free.</p> + +<p>He was ready for the end, no matter what she might do. The time had come in +the strong man's life when compromise, conciliation, and delay were alike +impossible. He cursed himself and his folly to-night that he had delayed so +long. He had tried to be fair to the woman he hated. His sense of justice, +personal honor, and loyalty to his pledged word, had given her the +opportunity to strike him the blow she had delivered through the girl. He +had been more than fair and he would settle it now for all time.</p> + +<p>That she was afraid to meet him was only too evident from her leaving the +house on his return. He smiled grimly when he recalled the effrontery with +which she had defied him at their last meeting.</p> + +<p>Her voice, sharp and angry, rang out to Andy at the back door.</p> + +<p>Norton's strong jaw closed with a snap, and he felt his whole being quiver +at the rasping sound of her familiar tones. She had evidently recovered her +composure and was ready with her usual insolence.</p> + +<p>She walked quickly into the room, and threw her head up with defiance:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Why have you avoided me to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Have I?"</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>Cleo laughed sneeringly:</p> + +<p>"You'll think again before I'm done with you!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head with the old bravado, but the keen eyes of the man +watching saw that she was not sure of her ground.</p> + +<p>He folded his arms and quietly began:</p> + +<p>"For twenty years I have breathed the air poisoned by your presence. I have +seen your insolence grow until you have announced yourself the mistress of +my house. You knew that I was afraid of your tongue, and thought that a +coward would submit in the end. Well, it's over. I've held my hand for the +past four weeks until my duty to the people was done. I've been a coward +when I saw the tangled web of lies and shame in which I floundered. But the +past is past. I face life to-night as it is"—his voice dropped—"and I'm +going to take what comes. Your rule in my house is at an end——"</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Helen leaves here to-morrow morning and <i>you</i> go."</p> + +<p>"Really?"</p> + +<p>"I've made a decent provision for your future—which is more than you +deserve. Pack your things!"</p> + +<p>The woman threw him a look of hate and her lips curved with scorn:</p> + +<p>"So—you have kindly allowed me to stay until your campaign was ended. +Well, I've understood you. I knew that you were getting ready for me. I'm +ready for you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And you think that I will allow you to remain in my house after what has +passed between us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will," she answered smiling. "I'm not going to leave. You'll have +to throw me into the street. And if you do, God may pity you, I'll not. +There's one thing you fear more than a public scandal!"</p> + +<p>Norton advanced and glared at her:</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"The hatred of the boy you idolize. I dare you to lay your hands on me to +put me out of this house! And if you do, Tom will hear from my lips the +story of the affair that ended in the death of his mother. I'll tell him +the truth, the whole truth, and then a great deal more than the truth——"</p> + +<p>"No doubt!" he interrupted.</p> + +<p>"But there'll be enough truth in all I say to convince him beyond a doubt. +I promise you now"—she dropped her voice to a whisper—"to lie to him with +a skill so sure, so cunning, so perfect, no denial you can ever make will +shake his faith in my words. He loves me and I'll make him believe me. When +I finish my story he ought to kill you. There's one thing you can depend on +with his high-strung and sensitive nature and the training you have given +him in racial purity—when he hears my story, he'll curse you to your face +and turn from you as if you were a leper. I'll see that he does this if +it's the last and only thing I do on this earth!"</p> + +<p>"And if you do——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not afraid!" she sneered, holding his eye with the calm assurance +of power. "I've thought it all over and I know exactly what to say."</p> + +<p>He leaned close:</p> + +<p>"Now listen! I don't want to hurt you but you're<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> going out of my life. +Every day while I've sheltered you in this house you have schemed and +planned to drag me down again to your level. You have failed. I am not +going to risk that girl's presence here another day—and <i>you</i> go!"</p> + +<p>As he spoke the last words he turned from her with a gesture of final +dismissal. She tossed her head in a light laugh and calmly said:</p> + +<p>"You're too late!"</p> + +<p>He stopped in his tracks, his heart chilled by the queer note of triumph in +her voice. Without turning or moving a muscle he asked:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Tom is already in love with Helen!"</p> + +<p>He wheeled and hurled himself at her:</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"And she is desperately in love with him"—she stopped and deliberately +laughed again in his face—"and I have known it for weeks!"</p> + +<p>Another step brought his trembling figure towering over her:</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you!" he hissed.</p> + +<p>Cleo walked leisurely to the door and smiled:</p> + +<p>"Ask the servants if you doubt my word." She finished with a sneer. "I +begged you not to fight, major!"</p> + +<p>He stood rooted to the spot and watched her slowly walk backward into the +hall. It was a lie, of course. And yet the calm certainty with which she +spoke chilled his soul as he recalled his own suspicions. He must know now +without a moment's delay and he must know the whole truth without +reservation.</p> + +<p>Before he approached either Tom or Helen there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> was one on whom he had +always relied to tell the truth. Her honest black face had been the one +comfort of his life through the years of shadow and deceit. If Minerva knew +she would tell him.</p> + +<p>He rushed to the door that led to the kitchen and called:</p> + +<p>"Minerva!"</p> + +<p>The answer came feebly:</p> + +<p>"Yassah."</p> + +<p>"Come here!"</p> + +<p>He had controlled his emotions sufficiently to speak his last command with +some degree of dignity.</p> + +<p>He walked back to the table and waited for her coming. His brain was in a +whirl of conflicting, stunning emotion. He simply couldn't face at once the +appalling possibilities such a statement involved. His mind refused to +accept it. As yet it was a lie of Cleo's fertile invention, and still his +reason told him that such a lie could serve no sane purpose in such a +crisis. He felt that he was choking. His hand involuntarily went to his +neck and fumbled at his collar.</p> + +<p>Minerva's heavy footstep was heard and he turned sharply:</p> + +<p>"Minerva!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah"—she answered, glancing at him timidly. Never had she seen his +face so ghastly or the look in his eye so desperate. She saw that he was +making an effort at self-control and knew instinctively that the happiness +of the lovers was at stake. It was too solemn a moment for anything save +the naked truth and her heart sank in pity and sympathy for the girl she +had promised to help.</p> + +<p>"Minerva," he began evenly, "you are the only servant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> in this house who +has never lied to me"—he took a step closer. "Are Tom and Miss Helen +lovers?"</p> + +<p>Minerva fumbled her apron, glanced at his drawn face, looked down on the +floor and stammered:</p> + +<p>"De Lordy, major——"</p> + +<p>"Yes or no!" he thundered.</p> + +<p>The black woman moistened her lips, hesitated, turned her honest face on +his and said tremblingly:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, dey is!"</p> + +<p>His eyes burned into hers:</p> + +<p>"And you, too, have known this for weeks?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah. Mister Tom ax me not ter tell ye——"</p> + +<p>Norton staggered to a seat and sank with a groan of despair, repeating over +and over again in low gasps the exclamation that was a sob and a prayer:</p> + +<p>"Great God!—Great God!"</p> + +<p>Minerva drew near with tender sympathy. Her voice was full of simple, +earnest pleading:</p> + +<p>"De Lordy, major, what's de use? Young folks is young folks, an' love's +love. What ye want ter break 'em up fer—dey's so happy! Yer know, sah, ye +can't mend er butterfly's wing er put er egg back in de shell. Miss Helen's +young, beautiful, sweet and good—won't ye let me plead fer 'em, sah?"</p> + +<p>With a groan of anguish Norton sprang to his feet:</p> + +<p>"Silence—silence!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>"Go—find Miss Helen—send her to me quickly. I don't want to see Mr. Tom. +I want to see her alone first."</p> + +<p>Minerva had backed out of his way and answered plaintively:</p> + +<p>"Yassah."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span></p> + +<p>She paused and extended her hand pleadingly:</p> + +<p>"You'll be easy wid 'em, sah?"</p> + +<p>He hadn't heard. The tall figure slowly sank into the chair and his +shoulders drooped in mortal weariness.</p> + +<p>Minerva shook her head sadly and turned to do his bidding.</p> + +<p>Norton's eyes were set in agony, his face white, his breast scarcely moving +to breathe, as he waited Helen's coming. The nerves suddenly snapped—he +bowed his face in his hands and sobbed aloud:</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear God, give me strength! I can't—I can't confess to my boy!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>THE TEST OF LOVE</h3> + + +<p>Norton made a desperate effort to pull himself together for his appeal to +Helen. On its outcome hung the possibility of saving himself from the +terror that haunted him. If he could tell the girl the truth and make her +see that a marriage with Tom was utterly out of the question because her +blood was stained with that of a negro, it might be possible to save +himself the humiliation of the full confession of their relationship and of +his bitter shame.</p> + +<p>He had made a fearful mistake in not telling her this at their first +interview, and a still more frightful mistake in rearing her in ignorance +of the truth. No life built on a lie could endure. He was still trying +desperately to hold his own on its shifting sands, but in his soul of souls +he had begun to despair of the end. He was clutching at straws. In moments +of sanity he realized it, but there was nothing else to do. The act was +instinctive.</p> + +<p>The girl's sensitive mind was the key to a possible solution. He had felt +instinctively on the day he told her the first fact about the disgrace of +her birth, vague and shadowy as he had left it, that she could never adjust +herself to the certainty that negro blood flowed in her veins. He had +observed that her aversion to negroes was peculiarly acute. If her love for +the boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> were genuine, if it belonged to the big things of the soul, and +were not the mere animal impulse she had inherited from her mother, he +would have a ground of most powerful appeal. Love seeks not its own. If she +really loved she would sink her own life to save his.</p> + +<p>It was a big divine thing to demand of her and his heart sank at the +thought of her possible inheritance from Cleo. Yet he knew by an instinct +deeper and truer than reason, that the ruling power in this sensitive, +lonely creature was in the spirit, not the flesh. He recalled in vivid +flashes the moments he had felt this so keenly in their first pitiful +meeting. If he could win her consent to an immediate flight and the +sacrifice of her own desires to save the boy! It was only a hope—it was a +desperate one—but he clung to it with painful eagerness.</p> + +<p>Why didn't she come? The minutes seemed hours and there were minutes in +which he lived a life.</p> + +<p>He rose nervously and walked toward the mantel, lifted his eyes and they +rested on the portrait of his wife.</p> + +<p>"'My brooding spirit will watch and guard!'"</p> + +<p>He repeated the promise of her last scrawled message. He leaned heavily +against the mantel, his eyes burning with an unusual brightness.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jean, darling," he groaned, "if you see and hear and know, let me feel +your presence! Your dear eyes are softer and kinder than the world's +to-night. Help me, I'm alone, heartsick and broken!"</p> + +<p>He choked down a sob, walked back to the chair and sank in silence. His +eyes were staring into space, his imagination on fire, passing in stern +review the events<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> of his life. How futile, childish and absurd it all +seemed! What a vain and foolish thing its hope and struggles, its dreams +and ambitions! What a failure for all its surface brilliance! He was +standing again at the window behind the dais of the President of the +Senate, watching the little drooping figure of the Governor staggering away +into oblivion, and his heart went out to him in a great tenderness and +pity. He longed to roll back the years that he might follow the impulse he +had felt to hurry down the steps of the Capitol, draw the broken man into a +sheltered spot, slip his arms about him and say:</p> + +<p>"Who am I to judge? You're my brother—I'm sorry! Come, we'll try it again +and help one another!"</p> + +<p>The dream ended in a sudden start. He had heard the rustle of a dress at +the door and knew without lifting his head that she was in the room.</p> + +<p>Only the slightest sound had come from her dry throat, a little muffled +attempt to clear it of the tightening bands. It was scarcely audible, yet +his keen ear had caught it instantly, not only caught the excitement under +which she was struggling, but in it the painful consciousness of his +hostility and her pathetic desire to be friends.</p> + +<p>He rose trembling and turned his dark eyes on her white uplifted face.</p> + +<p>A feeling of terror suddenly weakened her knees. He was evidently not angry +as she had feared. There was something bigger and more terrible than anger +behind the mask he was struggling to draw over his mobile features.</p> + +<p>"What has happened, major?" she asked in a subdued voice.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 422px;"> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" width="422" height="650" alt=""Only the slightest sound came from her dry throat."" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"Only the slightest sound came from her dry throat."</span> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is what I must know of you, child," he replied, watching her +intently.</p> + +<p>She pressed closer with sudden desperate courage, her voice full of wistful +friendliness:</p> + +<p>"Oh, major, what have I done to offend you? I've tried so hard to win your +love and respect. All my life I've been alone in a world of strangers, +friendless and homesick——"</p> + +<p>He lifted his hand with a firm gesture:</p> + +<p>"Come, child, to the point! I must know the truth now. Tom has made love to +you?"</p> + +<p>She blushed:</p> + +<p>"I—I—wish to see Tom before I answer——"</p> + +<p>Norton dropped his uplifted arm with a groan:</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he murmured in tones scarcely audible. "I have your +answer!"—he paused and looked at her curiously—"And you love him?"</p> + +<p>The girl hesitated for just an instant, her blue eyes flashed and she drew +her strong, young figure erect:</p> + +<p>"Yes! And I'm proud of it. His love has lifted me into the sunlight and +made the world glorious—made me love everything in it—every tree and +every flower and every living thing that moves and feels——-"</p> + +<p>She stopped abruptly and lifted her flushed face to his:</p> + +<p>"I've learned to love you, in spite of your harshness to me—I love you +because you are his father!"</p> + +<p>He turned from her and then wheeled suddenly, his face drawn with pain:</p> + +<p>"Now, I must be frank, I must be brutal. I must know the truth without +reservation—how far has this thing gone?"</p> + +<p>"I—I—don't understand you!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Marriage is impossible! I told you that and you must have realized it."</p> + +<p>Her head drooped:</p> + +<p>"You said so——"</p> + +<p>"Impossible—utterly impossible! And you know it"—he drew a deep breath. +"What—what are your real relations?"</p> + +<p>"My—real—relations?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Answer me now, before God! I'll hold your secret sacred—your life and his +may depend on it"—his voice dropped to a tense whisper. "Your love is pure +and unsullied?"</p> + +<p>The girl's eyes flashed with rage:</p> + +<p>"As pure and unsullied as his dead mother's for you!"</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" he breathed. "I believe you—but I had to know, child! I had +to know—there are big, terrible reasons why I had to know."</p> + +<p>A tear slowly stole down Helen's flushed cheeks as she quietly asked:</p> + +<p>"Why—why should you insult and shame me by asking that question?"</p> + +<p>"My knowledge of your birth."</p> + +<p>The girl smiled sadly:</p> + +<p>"Yet you might have guessed that I had learned to cherish honor and purity +before I knew I might not claim them as my birthright!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, child," he said contritely, "if in my eagerness, my fear, my +anguish, I hurt you. But I had to ask that question! I had to know. Your +answer gives me courage"—he paused and his voice quivered with deep +intensity—"you really love Tom?"</p> + +<p>"With a love beyond words!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The big, wonderful love that comes to the human soul but once?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>His eyes were piercing to the depths now:</p> + +<p>"With the deep, unselfish yearning that asks nothing for itself and seeks +only the highest good of its beloved?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes," she answered mechanically and, pausing, looked again into his +burning eyes; "but you frighten me—" she grasped a chair for support, +recovered herself and went on rapidly—"you mustn't ask me to give him +up—I won't give him up! Poor and friendless, with a shadow over my life +and everything against me, I have won him and he's mine! I have the right +to his love—I didn't ask to be born. I must live my own life. I have as +much right to happiness as you. Why must I bear the sins of my father and +mother? Have I broken the law? Haven't I a heart that can ache and break +and cry for joy?"</p> + +<p>He allowed the first paroxysm of her emotion to spend itself before he +replied, and then in quiet tones said:</p> + +<p>"You must give him up!"</p> + +<p>"I won't! I won't, I tell you!" she said through her set teeth as she +suddenly swung her strong, young form before him. "I won't give him up! His +love has made life worth living and I'm going to live it! I don't care what +you say—he's mine—and you shall not take him from me!"</p> + +<p>Norton was stunned by the fiery intensity with which her answer had been +given. There was no mistaking the strength of her character. Every vibrant +note of her voice had rung with sincerity, purity, the justice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> of her +cause, and the consciousness of power. He was dealing with no trembling +schoolgirl's mind, filled with sentimental dreams. A woman, in the tragic +strength of a great nature, stood before him. He felt this greatness +instinctively and met it with reverence. It could only be met thus, and as +he realized its strength, his heart took fresh courage. His own voice +became tender, eager, persuasive:</p> + +<p>"But suppose, my dear, I show you that you will destroy the happiness and +wreck the life of the man you love?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible! He knows that I'm nameless and his love is all the deeper, +truer and more manly because he realizes that I am defenseless."</p> + +<p>"But suppose I convince you?"</p> + +<p>"You can't!"</p> + +<p>"Suppose," he said in a queer tone, "I tell you that the barrier between +you is so real, so loathsome——"</p> + +<p>"Loathsome?" she repeated with a start.</p> + +<p>"So loathsome," he went on evenly, "that when he knows the truth, whether +he wishes it or not, he will instinctively turn from you with a shudder."</p> + +<p>"I won't believe it!"</p> + +<p>"Suppose I prove to you that marriage would wreck both your life and +his"—he gazed at her with trembling intensity—"would you give him up to +save him?"</p> + +<p>She held his eye steadily:</p> + +<p>"Yes—I'd die to save him!"</p> + +<p>A pitiful stillness followed. The man scarcely moved. His lips quivered and +his eyes grew dim. He looked at her pathetically and motioned her to a +seat.</p> + +<p>"And if I convince you," he went on tenderly, "you will submit yourself to +my advice and leave America?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p> + +<p>The blue eyes never flinched as she firmly replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes. But I warn you that no such barrier can exist."</p> + +<p>"Then I must prove to you that it does." He drew a deep breath and watched +her. "You realize the fact that a man who marries a nameless girl bars +himself from all careers of honor?"</p> + +<p>"The honor of fools, yes—of the noble and wise, no!"</p> + +<p>"You refuse to see that the shame which shadows a mother's life will smirch +her children, and like a deadly gangrene at last eat the heart out of her +husband's love?"</p> + +<p>"My faith in him is too big——"</p> + +<p>"You can conceive of no such barrier?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"In the first rush of love," he replied kindly, "you feel this. Emotion +obscures reason. But there are such barriers between men and women."</p> + +<p>"Name one!"</p> + +<p>His brow clouded, his lips moved to speak and stopped. It was more +difficult to frame in speech than he had thought. His jaw closed with firm +decision at last and he began calmly:</p> + +<p>"I take an extreme case. Suppose, for example, your father, a proud +Southern white man, of culture, refinement and high breeding, forgot for a +moment that he was white and heard the call of the Beast, and your mother +were an octoroon—what then?"</p> + +<p>The girl flushed with anger:</p> + +<p>"Such a barrier, yes! Nothing could be more loathsome. But why ask me so +disgusting a question? No such barrier could possibly exist between us!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton's eyes were again burning into her soul as he asked in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"Suppose it does?"</p> + +<p>The girl smiled with a puzzled look:</p> + +<p>"Suppose it does? Of course, you're only trying to prove that such an +impossible barrier might exist! And for the sake of argument I agree that +it would be real"—she paused and her breath came in a quick gasp. She +sprang to her feet clutching at her throat, trembling from head to +foot—"What do you mean by looking at me like that?"</p> + +<p>Norton lowered his head and barely breathed the words:</p> + +<p>"That <i>is</i> the barrier between you!"</p> + +<p>Helen looked at him dazed. The meaning was too big and stupefying to be +grasped at once.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course, major," she faltered, "you just say that to crush me in +the argument. But I've given up the point. I've granted that such a barrier +may exist and would be real. But you haven't told me the one between us."</p> + +<p>The man steeled his heart, turned his face away and spoke in gentle tones:</p> + +<p>"I am telling you the pitiful, tragic truth—your mother is a negress——"</p> + +<p>With a smothered cry of horror the girl threw herself on him and covered +his mouth with her hand, half gasping, half screaming her desperate appeal:</p> + +<p>"Stop! don't—don't say it!—take it back! Tell me that it's not true—tell +me that you only said it to convince me and I'll believe you. If the +hideous thing is true—for the love of God deny it now! If it's true—lie +to me"—her voice broke and she clung to Norton's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> arms with cruel +grip—"lie to me! Tell me that you didn't mean it, and I'll believe +you—truth or lie, I'll never question it! I'll never cross your purpose +again—I'll do anything you tell me, major"—she lifted her streaming eyes +and began slowly to sink to her knees—"see how humble—how obedient I am! +You don't hate me, do you? I'm just a poor, lonely girl, helpless and +friendless now at your feet"—her head sank into her hands until the +beautiful brown hair touched the floor—"have mercy! have mercy on me!"</p> + +<p>Norton bent low and fumbled for the trembling hand. He couldn't see and for +a moment words were impossible.</p> + +<p>He found her hand and pressed it gently:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, little girl! I'd lie to you if I could—but you know a lie +don't last long in this world. I've lied about you before—I'd lie now to +save you this anguish, but it's no use—we all have to face things in the +end!"</p> + +<p>With a mad cry of pain, the girl sprang to her feet and staggered to the +table:</p> + +<p>"Oh, God, how could any man with a soul—any living creature, even a beast +of the field—bring me into the world—teach me to think and feel, to laugh +and cry, and thrust me into such a hell alone! My proud father—I could +kill him!"</p> + +<p>Norton extended his hands to her in a gesture of instinctive sympathy:</p> + +<p>"Come, you'll see things in a calm light to-morrow, you are young and life +is all before you!"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she cried fiercely, "a life of shame—a life of insult, of taunts, +of humiliation, of horror! The one thing I've always loathed was the touch +of a negro——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p> + +<p>She stopped suddenly and lifted her hand, staring with wildly dilated eyes +at the nails of her finely shaped fingers to find if the telltale marks of +negro blood were there which she had seen on Cleo's. Finding none, the +horror in her eyes slowly softened into a look of despairing tenderness as +she went on:</p> + +<p>"The one passionate yearning of my soul has been to be a mother—to feel +the breath of a babe on my heart, to hear it lisp my name and know a +mother's love—the love I've starved for—and now, it can never be!"</p> + +<p>She had moved beyond the table in her last desperate cry and Norton +followed with a look of tenderness:</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," he cried persuasively, "you're but a child yourself. You can go +abroad where no such problem of white and black race exists. You can marry +there and be happy in your home and little ones, if God shall give them!"</p> + +<p>She turned on him savagely:</p> + +<p>"Well, God shall not give them! I'll see to that! I'm young, but I'm not a +fool. I know something of the laws of life. I know that Tom is not like +you"—she turned and pointed to the portrait on the wall—"he is like his +great-grandfather! Mine may have been——"</p> + +<p>Her voice choked with passion. She grasped a chair with one hand and tore +at the collar of her dress with the other. She had started to say "mine may +have been a black cannibal!" and the sheer horror of its possibility had +strangled her. When she had sufficiently mastered her feelings to speak she +said in a strange muffled tone:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I ask nothing of God now—if I could see Him, I'd curse Him to His face!"</p> + +<p>"Come, come!" Norton exclaimed, "this is but a passing ugly fancy—such +things rarely happen——"</p> + +<p>"But they do happen!" she retorted slowly. "I've known one such tragedy, of +a white mother's child coming into the world with the thick lips, kinky +hair, flat nose and black skin of a cannibal ancestor! She killed herself +when she was strong enough to leap out the window"—her voice dropped to a +dreamy chant—"yes, blood will tell—there's but one thing for me to do! I +wonder, with the yellow in me, if I'll have the courage."</p> + +<p>Norton spoke with persuasive tenderness:</p> + +<p>"You mustn't think of such madness! I'll send you abroad at once and you +can begin life over again——"</p> + +<p>Helen suddenly snatched the chair to which she had been holding out of her +way and faced Norton with flaming eyes:</p> + +<p>"I don't want to be an exile! I've been alone all my miserable orphan life! +I don't want to go abroad and die among strangers! I've just begun to live +since I came here! I love the South—it's mine—I feel it—I know it! I +love its blue skies and its fields—I love its people—they are mine! I +think as you think, feel as you feel——"</p> + +<p>She paused and looked at him queerly:</p> + +<p>"I've learned to honor, respect and love you because I've grown to feel +that you stand for what I hold highest, noblest and best in life"—the +voice died in a sob and she was silent.</p> + +<p>The man turned away, crying in his soul:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O God, I'm paying the price now!"</p> + +<p>"What can I do!" she went on at last. "What is life worth since I know this +leper's shame? There are millions like me, yes. If I could bend my back and +be a slave there are men and women who need my services. And there are men +I might know—yes—but I can't—I can't! I'm not a slave. I'm not bad. I +can't stoop. There's but one thing!"</p> + +<p>Norton's face was white with emotion:</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you, little girl, how sorry I am"—his voice broke. He +turned, suddenly extended his hand and cried hoarsely: "Tell me what I can +do to help you—I'll do anything on this earth that's within reason!"</p> + +<p>The girl looked up surprised at his anguish, wondering vaguely if he could +mean what he had said, and then threw herself at him in a burst of sudden, +fierce rebellion, her voice, low and quivering at first, rising to the +tragic power of a defiant soul in combat with overwhelming odds:</p> + +<p>"Then give me back the man I love—he's mine! He's mine, I tell you, body +and soul! God—gave—him—to—me! He's your son, but I love him! He's my +mate! He's of age—he's no longer yours! His time has come to build his own +home—he's mine—not yours! He's my life—and you're tearing the very heart +out of my body!"</p> + +<p>The white, trembling figure slowly crumpled at his feet.</p> + +<p>He took both of her hands, and lifted her gently:</p> + +<p>"Pull yourself together, child. It's hard, I know, but you begin to realize +that you must bear it. You must look things calmly in the face now."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span></p> + +<p>The girl's mouth hardened and she answered with bitterness:</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course—I'm nobody! We must consider you"—she staggered to a +chair and dropped limply into it, her voice a whisper—"we must consider +Tom—yes—yes—we must, too—I know that——"</p> + +<p>Norton pressed eagerly to her side and leaned over the drooping figure:</p> + +<p>"You can begin to see now that I was right," he pleaded. "You love +Tom—he's worth saving—you'll do as I ask and give him up?"</p> + +<p>The sensitive young face was convulsed with an agony words could not +express and the silence was pitiful. The man bending over her could hear +the throb of his own heart. A quartet of serenaders celebrating the victory +of the election stopped at the gate and the soft strains of the music came +through the open window. Norton felt that he must scream in a moment if she +did not answer. He bent low and softly repeated:</p> + +<p>"You'll do as I ask now, and give him up?"</p> + +<p>The tangled mass of brown hair sank lower and her answer was a sigh of +despair:</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>The man couldn't speak at once. His eyes filled. When he had mastered his +voice he said eagerly:</p> + +<p>"There's but one way, you know. You must leave at once without seeing him."</p> + +<p>She lifted her face with a pleading look:</p> + +<p>"Just a moment—without letting him know what has passed between us—just +one last look into his dear face?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head kindly:</p> + +<p>"It isn't wise——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," she sighed. "I'll go at once."</p> + +<p>He drew his watch and looked at it hurriedly:</p> + +<p>"The first train leaves in thirty minutes. Get your hat, a coat and +travelling bag and go just as you are. I'll send your things——"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes"—she murmured.</p> + +<p>"I'll join you in a few days in New York and arrange your future. Leave the +house immediately. Tom mustn't see you. Avoid him as you cross the lawn. +I'll have a carriage at the gate in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>The little head sank again:</p> + +<p>"I understand."</p> + +<p>He looked uncertainly at the white drooping figure. The serenaders were +repeating the chorus of the old song in low, sweet strains that floated +over the lawn and stole through the house in weird ghost-like echoes. He +returned to her chair and bent over her:</p> + +<p>"You won't stop to change your dress, you'll get your hat and coat and go +just as you are—at once?"</p> + +<p>The brown head nodded slowly and he gazed at her tenderly:</p> + +<p>"You've been a brave little girl to-night"—he lifted his hand to place it +on her shoulder in the first expression of love he had ever given. The hand +paused, held by the struggle of the feelings of centuries of racial pride +and the memories of his own bitter tragedy. But the pathos of her suffering +and the heroism of her beautiful spirit won. The hand was gently lowered +and pressed the soft, round shoulder.</p> + +<p>A sob broke from the lonely heart, and her head drooped until it lay +prostrate on the table, the beautiful arms outstretched in helpless +surrender.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton staggered blindly to the door, looked back, lifted his hand and in a +quivering voice, said:</p> + +<p>"I can never forget this!"</p> + +<p>His long stride quickly measured the distance to the gate, and a loud cheer +from the serenaders roused the girl from her stupor of pain.</p> + +<p>In a moment they began singing again, a love song, that tore her heart with +cruel power.</p> + +<p>"Oh, God, will they never stop?" she cried, closing her ears with her hands +in sheer desperation.</p> + +<p>She rose, crossed slowly to the window and looked out on the beautiful +moonlit lawn at the old rustic seat where her lover was waiting. She +pressed her hand on her throbbing forehead, walked to the center of the +room, looked about her in a helpless way and her eye rested on the +miniature portrait of Tom. She picked it up and gazed at it tenderly, +pressed it to her heart, and with a low sob felt her way through the door +and up the stairs to her room.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>THE PARTING</h3> + + +<p>Tom had grown impatient, waiting in their sheltered seat on the lawn for +Helen to return. She had gone on a mysterious mission to see Minerva, +laughingly refused to tell him its purpose, but promised to return in a few +minutes. When half an hour had passed without a sign he reconnoitered to +find Minerva, and to his surprise she, too, had disappeared.</p> + +<p>He returned to his trysting place and listened while the serenaders sang +their first song. Unable to endure the delay longer he started to the house +just as his father hastily left by the front door, and quickly passing the +men at the gate, hurried down town.</p> + +<p>The coast was clear and he moved cautiously to fathom, if possible, the +mystery of Helen's disappearance. Finding no trace of her in Minerva's +room, he entered the house and, seeing nothing of her in the halls, thrust +his head in the library and found it empty. He walked in, peeping around +with a boyish smile expecting her to leap out and surprise him. He opened +the French window and looked for her on the porch. He hurried back into the +room with a look of surprised disappointment and started to the door +opening on the hall of the stairway. He heard distinctly the rustle of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> a +dress and the echo on the stairs of the footstep he knew so well.</p> + +<p>He gave a boyish laugh, tiptoed quickly to the old-fashioned settee, +dropped behind its high back and waited her coming.</p> + +<p>Helen had hastily packed a travelling bag and thrown a coat over her arm. +She slowly entered the library to replace the portrait she had taken, +kissed it and started with feet of lead and set, staring eyes to slip +through the lawn and avoid Tom as she had promised.</p> + +<p>As she approached the corner of the settee the boy leaped up with a laugh:</p> + +<p>"Where have you been?"</p> + +<p>With a quick movement of surprise she threw the bag and coat behind her +back. Luckily he had leaped so close he could not see.</p> + +<p>"Where've you been?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Why, I've just come from my room," she replied with an attempt at +composure.</p> + +<p>"What have you got your hat for?"</p> + +<p>She flushed the slightest bit:</p> + +<p>"Why, I was going for a walk."</p> + +<p>"With a veil—at night—what have you got that veil for?"</p> + +<p>The boyish banter in his tones began to yield to a touch of wonder.</p> + +<p>Helen hesitated:</p> + +<p>"Why, the crowds of singing and shouting men on the streets. I didn't wish +to be recognized, and I wanted to hear what the speakers said."</p> + +<p>"You were going to leave me and go alone to the speaker's stand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Your father is going to see you and I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> nervous and frightened and +wanted to pass the time until you were free again"—she paused, looked at +him intently and spoke in a queer monotone—"the negroes who can't read and +write have been disfranchised, haven't they?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," he answered mechanically, "the ballot should never have been given +them."</p> + +<p>"Yet there's something pitiful about it after all, isn't there, Tom?" She +asked the question with a strained wistfulness that startled the boy.</p> + +<p>He answered automatically, but his keen, young eyes were studying with +growing anxiety every movement of her face and form and every tone of her +voice:</p> + +<p>"I don't see it," he said carelessly.</p> + +<p>She laid her left hand on his arm, the right hand still holding her bag and +coat out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," she whispered, "that you should wake up to-morrow morning and +suddenly discover that a strain of negro blood poisoned your veins—what +would you do?"</p> + +<p>Tom frowned and watched her with a puzzled look:</p> + +<p>"Never thought of such a thing!"</p> + +<p>She pressed his arm eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Think—what would you do?"</p> + +<p>"What would I do?" he repeated in blank amazement.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>His eyes were holding hers now with a steady stare of alarm. The questions +she asked didn't interest him. Her glittering eyes and trembling hand did. +Studying her intently he said lightly:</p> + +<p>"To be perfectly honest, I'd blow my brains out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span></p> + +<p>With a cry she staggered back and threw her hand instinctively up as if to +ward a blow:</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes, you would—wouldn't you?"</p> + +<p>He was staring at her now with blanched face and she was vainly trying to +hide her bag and coat.</p> + +<p>He seized her arms:</p> + +<p>"Why are you so excited? Why do you tremble so?"—he drew the arm around +that she was holding back—"What is it? What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>His eye rested on the bag, he turned deadly pale and she dropped it with a +sigh.</p> + +<p>"What—what—does this mean?" he gasped. "You are trying to leave me +without a word?"</p> + +<p>She staggered and fell limp into a seat:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom, the end has come, and I must go!"</p> + +<p>"Go!" he cried indignantly, "then I go, too!"</p> + +<p>"But you can't, dear!"</p> + +<p>"And why not?"</p> + +<p>"Your father has just told me the whole hideous secret of my birth—and +it's hopeless!"</p> + +<p>"What sort of man do you think I am? What sort of love do you think I've +given you? Separate us after the solemn vows we've given to each other! +Neither man nor the devil can come between us now!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him wistfully:</p> + +<p>"It's sweet to hear such words—though I know you can't make them good."</p> + +<p>"I'll make them good," he broke in, "with every drop of blood in my +veins—and no coward has ever borne my father's name—it's good blood!"</p> + +<p>"That's just it—and blood will tell. It's the law of life and I've given +up."</p> + +<p>"Well, I haven't given up," he protested, "remember<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span> that! Try me with your +secret—I laugh before I hear it!"</p> + +<p>With a gleam of hope in her deep blue eyes she rose trembling:</p> + +<p>"You really mean that? If I go an outcast you would go with me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes."</p> + +<p>"And if a curse is branded on my forehead you'll take its shame as yours?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>She laid her hand on his arm, looked long and yearningly into his eyes, and +said:</p> + +<p>"Your father has just told me that I am a negress—my mother is an +octoroon!"</p> + +<p>The boy flinched involuntarily, stared in silence an instant, and his form +suddenly stiffened:</p> + +<p>"I don't believe a word of it! My father has been deceived. It's +preposterous!"</p> + +<p>Helen drew closer as if for shelter and clung to his hand wistfully:</p> + +<p>"It does seem a horrible joke, doesn't it? I can't realize it. But it's +true. The major gave me his solemn word in tears of sympathy. He knew both +my father and mother. I am a negress!"</p> + +<p>The boy's arm unconsciously shrank the slightest bit from her touch while +he stared at her with wildly dilated eyes and spoke in a hoarse whisper:</p> + +<p>"It's impossible! It's impossible—I tell you!"</p> + +<p>He attempted to lift his hand to place it on his throbbing forehead. Helen +clung to him in frantic grief and terror:</p> + +<p>"Please, please—don't shrink from me! Have pity on me! If you feel that +way, for God's sake don't let<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> me see it—don't let me know it—I—I—can't +endure it! I can't——"</p> + +<p>The tense figure collapsed in his arms and the brown head sank on his +breast with a sob of despair. The boy pressed her to his heart and held her +close. He felt her body shiver as he pushed the tangled ringlets back from +her high, fair forehead and felt the cold beads of perspiration. The +serenaders at the gate were singing again—a negro folk-song. The absurd +childish words which he knew so well rang through the house, a chanting +mockery.</p> + +<p>"There, there," he whispered tenderly, "I didn't shrink from you, dear. I +couldn't shrink from you—you only imagined it. I was just stunned for a +moment. The blow blinded me. But it's all right now, I see things clearly. +I love you—that's all—and love is from God, or it's not love, it's a +sham——"</p> + +<p>A low sob and she clung to him with desperate tenderness.</p> + +<p>He bent his head close until the blonde hair mingled with the rich brown:</p> + +<p>"Hush, my own! If a single nerve of my body shrank from your little hand, +find it and I'll tear it out!"</p> + +<p>She withdrew herself slowly from his embrace, and brushed the tears from +her eyes with a little movement of quiet resignation:</p> + +<p>"It's all right. I'm calm again and it's all over. I won't mind now if you +shrink a little. I'm really glad that you did. It needed just that to +convince me that your father was right. Our love would end in the ruin of +your life. I see it clearly now. It would become to you at last a conscious +degradation. <i>That</i> I couldn't endure."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have your solemn vow," he interrupted impatiently, "you're mine! I'll +not give you up!"</p> + +<p>She looked at him sadly:</p> + +<p>"But I'm going, dear, in a few minutes. You can't hold me—now that I know +it's for the best."</p> + +<p>"You can't mean this?"</p> + +<p>She clung to his hand and pressed it with cruel force:</p> + +<p>"Don't think it isn't hard. All my life I've been a wistful beggar, eager +and hungry for love. In your arms I had forgotten the long days of misery. +I've been happy—perfectly, divinely happy! It will be hard, the darkness +and the loneliness again. But I can't drag you down, my sweetheart, my +hero! Your life must be big and brilliant. I've dreamed it thus. You shall +be a man among men, the world's great men—and so I am going out of your +life!"</p> + +<p>"You shall not!" the boy cried fiercely. "I tell you I don't believe this +hideous thing—it's a lie, I tell you—it's a lie, and I don't care who +says it! Nothing shall separate us now. I'll go with you to the ends of the +earth and if you sink into hell, I'll follow you there, lift you in my arms +and fight my way back through its flames!"</p> + +<p>She smiled at him tenderly:</p> + +<p>"It's beautiful to hear you say that, dearest, but our dream has ended!"</p> + +<p>She stooped, took up the bag and coat, paused and looked into his face with +the hunger and longing of a life burning in her eyes:</p> + +<p>"But I shall keep the memory of every sweet and foolish word you have +spoken, every tone of your voice, every line of your face, every smile and +trick of your lips and eyes! I know them all. The old darkness will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> not be +the same. I have loved and I have lived. A divine fire has been kindled in +my soul. I can go into no world so far I shall not feel the warmth of your +love, your kisses on my lips, your strong arms pressing me to your +heart—the one true, manly heart that has loved me. I shall see your face +forever though I see it through a mist of tears—good-by!"</p> + +<p>The last word was the merest whisper.</p> + +<p>The boy sprang toward her:</p> + +<p>"I won't say it—I won't—I won't!"</p> + +<p>"But you must!"</p> + +<p>He opened his arms and called in tones of compelling anguish:</p> + +<p>"Helen!"</p> + +<p>The girl's lips trembled, her eyes grew dim, her fingers were locked in a +cruel grip trying to hold the bag which slipped to the floor. And then with +a cry she threw herself madly into his arms:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't give you up, dearest! I can't—I've tried—but I can't!"</p> + +<p>He held her clasped without a word, stroking her hair, kissing it tenderly +and murmuring little inarticulate cries of love.</p> + +<p>Norton suddenly appeared in the door, his face blanched with horror. With a +rush of his tall figure he was by their side and hurled them apart:</p> + +<p>"My God! Do you know what you're doing?"</p> + +<p>He turned on Tom, his face white with pain:</p> + +<p>"I forbid you to ever see or speak to this girl again!"</p> + +<p>Tom sprang back and confronted his father:</p> + +<p>"Forbid!"</p> + +<p>Helen lifted her head:</p> + +<p>"He's right, Tom."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," the father said with bated breath, "in the name of the law—by all +that's pure and holy, by the memory of the mother who bore you and the +angels who guard the sanctity of every home, I forbid you!"</p> + +<p>The boy squared himself and drew his figure to its full height:</p> + +<p>"You're my father! But I want you to remember that I'm of age. I'm +twenty-two years old and I'm a man! Forbid? How dare you use such words to +me in the presence of the woman I love?"</p> + +<p>Norton's voice dropped to pitiful tenderness:</p> + +<p>"You—you—don't understand, my boy. Helen knows that—I'm right. We have +talked it over. She has agreed to go at once. The carriage will be at the +door in a moment. She can never see you again"—he paused and lifted his +hand solemnly above Tom's head—"and in the name of Almighty God I warn you +not to attempt to follow her——"</p> + +<p>He turned quickly, picked up the fallen bag and coat and added:</p> + +<p>"I'll explain all to you at last if I must."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't hear it!" Tom cried in rage. "I'm a free agent! I won't take +such orders from you or any other man!"</p> + +<p>The sound of the carriage wheels were heard on the graveled drive at the +door.</p> + +<p>Norton turned to Helen and took her arm:</p> + +<p>"Come, Helen, the carriage is waiting."</p> + +<p>With a sudden leap Tom was by his side, tore the bag and coat from his +hand, hurled them to the floor and turned on his father with blazing eyes:</p> + +<p>"Now, look here, Dad, this thing's going too far!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span> You can't bulldoze me. +There's one right no American man ever yields without the loss of his +self-respect—the right to choose the woman he loves. When Helen leaves +this house, I go with her! I'm running this thing now—your carriage +needn't wait."</p> + +<p>With sudden decision he rushed to the porch and and called:</p> + +<p>"Driver!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah."</p> + +<p>"Go back to your stable—you're not wanted."</p> + +<p>"Yassah."</p> + +<p>"I'll send for you if I want you—wait a minute till I tell you."</p> + +<p>Norton's head drooped and he blindly grasped a chair.</p> + +<p>Helen watched him with growing pity, drew near and said softly:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, major, to have brought you this pain——"</p> + +<p>"You promised to go without seeing him!" he exclaimed bitterly.</p> + +<p>"I tried. I only gave up for a moment. I fought bravely. Remember now in +all you say to Tom that I am going—that I know I must go——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand, child," he replied brokenly, "and my heart goes out to +you. Mine is heavy to-night with a burden greater than I can bear. You're a +brave little girl. The fault isn't yours—it's mine. I've got to face it +now"—he paused and looked at her tenderly. "You say that you've been +lonely—well, remember that in all your orphan life you never saw an hour +as lonely as the one my soul is passing through now! The loneliest road +across this earth is the way of sin."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span></p> + +<p>Helen watched him in amazement:</p> + +<p>"The way of sin—why——"</p> + +<p>Tom's brusque entrance interrupted her. With quick, firm decision he took +her arm and led her to the door opening on the hall:</p> + +<p>"Wait for me in your room, dear," he said quietly. "I have something to say +to my father."</p> + +<p>She looked at him timidly:</p> + +<p>"You won't forget that he is your father, and loves you better than his own +life?"</p> + +<p>"I'll not forget."</p> + +<p>She started with sudden alarm and whispered:</p> + +<p>"You haven't got the pistol that you brought home to-day from the campaign, +have you?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, dear——"</p> + +<p>"Give it to me!" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why?" she asked pleadingly.</p> + +<p>"I've too much self-respect."</p> + +<p>She looked into his clear eyes:</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, dear, but I was so frightened just now. You were so violent. I +never saw you like that before. I was afraid something might happen in a +moment of blind passion, and I could never lift my head again——"</p> + +<p>"I'll not forget," he broke in, "if my father does. Run now, dear, I'll +join you in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>A pressure of the hand, a look of love, and she was gone. The boy closed +the door, quickly turned and faced his father.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>FATHER AND SON</h3> + + +<p>Norton had ignored the scene between Helen and Tom and his stunned mind was +making a desperate fight to prepare for the struggle that was inevitable.</p> + +<p>The thing that gave him fresh courage was the promise the girl had repeated +that she would go. Somehow he had grown to trust her implicitly. He hadn't +time as yet to realize the pity and pathos of such a trust in such an hour. +He simply believed that she would keep her word. He had to win his fight +now with the boy without the surrender of his secret. Could he do it? It +was doubtful, but he was going to try. His back was to the wall.</p> + +<p>Tom took another step into the room and the father turned, drew his tall +figure erect in an instinctive movement of sorrowful dignity and reserve +and walked to the table.</p> + +<p>All traces of anger had passed from the boy's handsome young face and a +look of regret had taken its place. He began speaking very quietly and +reverently:</p> + +<p>"Now, Dad, we must face this thing. It's a tragedy for you perhaps——"</p> + +<p>The father interrupted:</p> + +<p>"How big a tragedy, my son, I hope that you may never know——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Anyhow," Tom went on frankly, "I am ashamed of the way I acted. But you're +a manly man and you can understand."</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I know that all you've done is because you love me——"</p> + +<p>"How deeply, you can never know."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry if I forgot for a moment the respect I owe you, the reverence +and love I hold for you—I've always been proud of you, Dad—of your +stainless name, of the birthright you have given me—you know this——"</p> + +<p>"Yet it's good to hear you say it!"</p> + +<p>"And now that I've said this, you'd as well know first as last that any +argument about Helen is idle between us. I'm not going to give up the woman +I love!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my boy——"</p> + +<p>Tom lifted his hand emphatically:</p> + +<p>"It's no use! You needn't tell me that her blood is tainted—I don't +believe it!"</p> + +<p>The father came closer:</p> + +<p>"You <i>do</i> believe it! In the first mad riot of passion you're only trying +to fool yourself."</p> + +<p>"It's unthinkable, I tell you! and I've made my decision"—he paused a +moment and then demanded: "How do you know her blood is tainted?"</p> + +<p>The father answered firmly:</p> + +<p>"I have the word both of her mother and father."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't take their word. Some natures are their own defense. On them +no stain can rest, and I stake my life on Helen's!"</p> + +<p>"My boy——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what you're going to say—as a theory it's quite correct. But +it's one thing to accept a theory, another to meet the thing in your own +heart before God alone with your life in your hands."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by that?" the father asked savagely.</p> + +<p>"That for the past hour I've been doing some thinking on my own account."</p> + +<p>"That's just what you haven't been doing. You haven't thought at all. If +you had, you'd know that you can't marry this girl. Come, come, my boy, +remember that you have reason and because you have this power that's bigger +than all passion, all desire, all impulse, you're a man, not a brute——"</p> + +<p>"All right," the boy broke in excitedly, "submit it to reason! I'll stand +the test—it's more than you can do. I love this girl—she's my mate. She +loves me and I am hers. Haven't I taken my stand squarely on Nature and her +highest law?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"What's higher? Social fictions—prejudices?"</p> + +<p>The father lifted his head:</p> + +<p>"Prejudices! You know as well as I that the white man's instinct of racial +purity is not prejudice, but God's first law of life—the instinct of +self-preservation! The lion does not mate with the jackal!"</p> + +<p>The boy flushed angrily:</p> + +<p>"The girl I love is as fair as you or I."</p> + +<p>"Even so," was the quick reply, "we inherit ninety per cent. of character +from our dead ancestors! Born of a single black progenitor, she is still a +negress. Change every black skin in America to-morrow to the white of a +lily and we'd yet have ten million negroes—ten<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> million negroes whose +blood relatives are living in Africa the life of a savage."</p> + +<p>"Granted that what you say it true—and I refuse to believe it—I still +have the right to live my own life in my own way."</p> + +<p>"No man has the right to live life in his own way if by that way he imperil +millions."</p> + +<p>"And whom would I imperil?"</p> + +<p>"The future American. No white man ever lived who desired to be a negro. +Every negro longs to be a white man. No black man has ever added an iota to +the knowledge of the world of any value to humanity. In Helen's body flows +sixteen million tiny drops of blood—one million black—poisoned by the +inheritance of thousands of years of savage cruelty, ignorance, slavery and +superstition. The life of generations are bound up in you. In you are wrapt +the onward years. Man's place in nature is no longer a myth. You are bound +by the laws of heredity—laws that demand a nobler not a baser race of men! +Shall we improve the breed of horses and degrade our men? You have no right +to damn a child with such a legacy!"</p> + +<p>"But I tell you I'm not trying to—I refuse to see in her this stain!"</p> + +<p>The father strode angrily to the other side of the room in an effort to +control his feelings:</p> + +<p>"Because you refuse to think, my boy!" he cried in agony. "I tell you, you +can't defy these laws! They are eternal—never new, never old—true a +thousand years ago, to-day, to-morrow and on a million years, when this +earth is thrown, a burnt cinder, into God's dust heap. I can't tell you +what I feel—it strangles me!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, and I can't understand it. I feel one thing, the touch of the hand of +the woman I love; hear one thing, the music of her voice——"</p> + +<p>"And in that voice, my boy, I hear the crooning of a savage mother! But +yesterday our negroes were brought here from the West Soudan, black, +chattering savages, nearer the anthropoid ape than any other living +creature. And you would dare give to a child such a mother? Who is this +dusky figure of the forest with whom you would cross your blood? In old +Andy there you see him to-day, a creature half child, half animal. For +thousands of years beyond the seas he stole his food, worked his wife, sold +his child, and ate his brother—great God, could any tragedy be more +hideous than our degradation at last to his racial level!"</p> + +<p>"It can't happen! It's a myth!"</p> + +<p>"It's the most dangerous thing that threatens the future!" the father cried +with desperate earnestness. "A pint of ink can make black gallons of water. +The barriers once down, ten million negroes can poison the source of life +and character for a hundred million whites. This nation is great for one +reason only—because of the breed of men who created the Republic! Oh, my +boy, when you look on these walls at your fathers, don't you see this, +don't you feel this, don't you know this?"</p> + +<p>Tom shook his head:</p> + +<p>"To-night I feel and know one thing. I love her! We don't choose whom we +love——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but if we are more than animals, if we reason, we do choose whom we +marry! Marriage is not merely a question of personal whim, impulse or +passion. It's the one divine law on which human society rests. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> are +always men who hear the call of the Beast and fall below their ideals, who +trail the divine standards of life in the dust as they slink under the +cover of night——"</p> + +<p>"At least, I'm not trying to do that!"</p> + +<p>"No, worse! You would trample them under your feet at noon in defiance of +the laws of man and God! You're insane for the moment. You're mad with +passion. You're not really listening to me at all—I feel it!"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I'm not——"</p> + +<p>"Yet you don't question the truth of what I've said. You can't question it. +You just stand here blind and maddened by desire, while I beg and plead, +saying in your heart: 'I want this woman and I'm going to have her.' You've +never faced the question that she's a negress—you can't face it, and yet I +tell you that I know it's true!"</p> + +<p>The boy turned on his father and studied him angrily for a moment, his blue +eyes burning into his, his face flushed and his lips curled with the +slightest touch of incredulity:</p> + +<p>"And do you really believe all you've been saying to me?"</p> + +<p>"As I believe in God!"</p> + +<p>With a quick, angry gesture he faced his father:</p> + +<p>"Well, you've had a mighty poor way of showing it! If you really believed +all you've been saying to me, you wouldn't stop to eat or sleep until every +negro is removed from physical contact with the white race. And yet on the +day that I was born you placed me in the arms of a negress! The first human +face on which I looked was hers. I grew at her breast. You let her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> love me +and teach me to love her. You keep only negro servants. I grow up with +them, fall into their lazy ways, laugh at their antics and see life through +their eyes, and now that my life touches theirs at a thousand points of +contact, you tell me that we must live together and yet a gulf separates +us! Why haven't you realized this before? If what you say about Helen is +true, in God's name—I ask it out of a heart quivering with anguish—why +haven't you realized it before? I demand an answer! I have the right to +know!"</p> + +<p>Norton's head was lowered while the boy poured out his passionate protest +and he lifted it at the end with a look of despair:</p> + +<p>"You have the right to know, my boy. But the South has not a valid answer +to your cry. The Negro is not here by my act or will, and their continued +presence is a constant threat against our civilization. Equality is the law +of life and we dare not grant it to the negro unless we are willing to +descend to his racial level. We cannot lift him to ours. This truth forced +me into a new life purpose twenty years ago. The campaign I have just +fought and won is the first step in a larger movement to find an answer to +your question in the complete separation of the races—and nothing is surer +than that the South will maintain the purity of her home! It's as fixed as +her faith in God!"</p> + +<p>The boy was quiet a moment and looked at the tall figure with a queer +expression:</p> + +<p>"Has she maintained it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Is her home life clean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And these millions of children born in the shadows—these mulattoes?"</p> + +<p>The older man's lips trembled and his brow clouded:</p> + +<p>"The lawless have always defied the law, my son, North, South, East and +West, but they have never defended their crimes. Dare to do this thing +that's in your heart and you make of crime a virtue and ask God's blessing +on it. The difference between the two things is as deep and wide as the +gulf between heaven and hell."</p> + +<p>"My marriage to Helen will be the purest and most solemn act of my +life——"</p> + +<p>"Silence, sir!" the father thundered in a burst of uncontrollable passion, +as he turned suddenly on him, his face blanched and his whole body +trembling. "I tell you once for all that your marriage to this girl is a +physical and moral impossibility! And I refuse to argue with you a question +that's beyond all argument!"</p> + +<p>The two men glared at each other in a duel of wills in which steel cut +steel without a tremor of yielding. And then with a sudden flash of anger, +Tom turned on his heel crying:</p> + +<p>"All right, then!"</p> + +<p>With swift, determined step he moved toward the door. The father grasped +the corner of the table for support:</p> + +<p>"Tom!"</p> + +<p>His hands were extended in pitiful appeal when the boy stopped as if in +deep study, turned, looked at him, and walked deliberately back:</p> + +<p>"I'm going to ask you some personal questions!"</p> + +<p>In spite of his attempt at self-control, Norton's face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span> paled. He drew +himself up with an attempt at dignified adjustment to the new situation, +but his hands were trembling as he nervously repeated:</p> + +<p>"Personal questions?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. There's something very queer about your position. Your creed forbids +you to receive a negro as a social equal?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>The boy suddenly lifted his head:</p> + +<p>"Why did you bring Helen into this house?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't bring her."</p> + +<p>"You didn't invite her?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"She says that you did."</p> + +<p>"She thought so."</p> + +<p>"She got an invitation?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Signed with your name?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"Who dared to write such a letter without your knowledge?"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you that."</p> + +<p>"I demand it!"</p> + +<p>Norton struggled between anger and fear and finally answered in measured +tones:</p> + +<p>"It was forged by an enemy who wished to embarrass me in this campaign."</p> + +<p>"You know who wrote it?"</p> + +<p>"I suspect."</p> + +<p>"You don't <i>know</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I said, I suspect," was the angry retort.</p> + +<p>"And you didn't kill him?"</p> + +<p>"In this campaign my hands were tied."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy, watching furtively his father's increasing nervousness and anger, +continued his questions in a slower, cooler tone:</p> + +<p>"When you returned and found her here, you could have put her out?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Norton answered tremblingly, "and I ought to have done it!"</p> + +<p>"But you didn't?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>The father fumbled his watch chain, moved uneasily and finally said with +firmness:</p> + +<p>"I am Helen's guardian!"</p> + +<p>The boy lifted his brows:</p> + +<p>"You are supposed to be his attorney only. Why did you, of all men on +earth, accept such a position?"</p> + +<p>"I felt that I had to."</p> + +<p>"And the possibility of my meeting this girl never occurred to you? You, +who have dinned into my ears from childhood that I should keep myself clean +from the touch of such pollution—why did you take the risk?"</p> + +<p>"A sense of duty to one to whom I felt bound."</p> + +<p>"Duty?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It must have been deep—what duty?"</p> + +<p>Norton lifted his hand in a movement of wounded pride:</p> + +<p>"My boy!"</p> + +<p>"Come, come, Dad, don't shuffle; this thing's a matter of life and death +with me and you must be fair——"</p> + +<p>"I'm trying——"</p> + +<p>"I want to know why you are Helen's guardian, exactly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> why. We must face +each other to-day with souls bare—why are you her guardian?"</p> + +<p>"I—I—can't tell you."</p> + +<p>"You've got to tell me!"</p> + +<p>"You must trust me in this, my son!"</p> + +<p>"I won't do it!" the boy cried, trembling with passion that brought the +tears blinding to his eyes. "We're not father and son now. We face each +other man to man with two lives at stake—hers and mine! You can't ask me +to trust you! I won't do it—I've got to know!"</p> + +<p>The father turned away:</p> + +<p>"I can't betray this secret even to you, my boy."</p> + +<p>"Does any one else share it?"</p> + +<p>"Why do you use that queer tone? What do you mean?" The father's last +question was barely breathed.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," the boy answered with a toss of his head. "Does any one in this +house suspect it?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly."</p> + +<p>Again Tom paused, watching keenly:</p> + +<p>"On the day you returned and found Helen here, you quarrelled with Cleo?"</p> + +<p>Norton wheeled with sudden violence:</p> + +<p>"We won't discuss this question further, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we will," was the steady answer through set teeth. "Haven't you been +afraid of Cleo?"</p> + +<p>The father's eyes were looking into his now with a steady stare:</p> + +<p>"I refuse to be cross-examined, sir!"</p> + +<p>Tom ignored his answer:</p> + +<p>"Hasn't Cleo been blackmailing you?"</p> + +<p>"No—no."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy held his father's gaze until it wavered, and then in cold tones +said:</p> + +<p>"You are not telling me the truth!"</p> + +<p>Norton flinched as if struck:</p> + +<p>"Do you know what you are saying. Have you lost your senses?"</p> + +<p>Tom held his ground with dogged coolness:</p> + +<p>"<i>Have</i> you told me the truth?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie!"</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely spoken when Norton's clenched fist struck him a +blow full in the face.</p> + +<p>A wild cry of surprise, inarticulate in fury, came from the boy's lips as +he staggered against the table. He glared at his father, drew back a step, +his lips twitching, his breath coming in gasps, and suddenly felt for the +revolver in his pocket.</p> + +<p>With a start of horror the father cried:</p> + +<p>"My boy!"</p> + +<p>The hand dropped limp, he leaned against the table for support and sobbed:</p> + +<p>"O God! Let me die!"</p> + +<p>Norton rushed to his side, his voice choking with grief:</p> + +<p>"Tom, listen!"</p> + +<p>"I won't listen!" he hissed. "I never want to hear the sound of your voice +again!"</p> + +<p>"Don't say that—you don't mean it!" the father pleaded.</p> + +<p>"I do mean it!"</p> + +<p>Norton touched his arm tenderly:</p> + +<p>"You can't mean it, Tom. You're all I've got in the world. You mustn't say +that. Forgive me—I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> mad. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't mean +to strike you. I forgot for a moment that you're a man, proud and sensitive +as I am——"</p> + +<p>The boy tore himself free from his touch and crossed the room with quick, +angry stride and turned:</p> + +<p>"Well, you'd better not forget it again"—he paused and drew himself erect. +"You're my father, but I tell you to your face that I hate and loathe +you——"</p> + +<p>The silver-gray head drooped:</p> + +<p>"That I should have lived to hear it!"</p> + +<p>"And I want you to understand one thing," Tom went on fiercely, "if an +angel from heaven told me that Helen's blood was tainted, I'd demand +proofs! You have shown none, and I'm not going to give up the woman I +love!"</p> + +<p>Norton supported himself by the table and felt his way along its edges as +if blinded. His eyes were set with a half-mad stare as he gripped Tom's +shoulders:</p> + +<p>"I love you, my boy, with a love beyond your ken, a love that can be fierce +and cruel when God calls, and sooner than see you marry this girl, I'll +kill you with my own hands if I must!"</p> + +<p>The answer came slowly:</p> + +<p>"And you can't guess what's happened?"</p> + +<p>"Guess—what's—happened!" the father repeated in a whisper. "What do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"That I'm married already!"</p> + +<p>With hands uplifted, his features convulsed, the father fell back, his +voice a low piteous shriek:</p> + +<p>"Merciful God!—No!"</p> + +<p>"Married an hour before you dragged me away in that campaign!" he shouted +in triumph. "I knew you'd<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> never consent and so I took matters into my own +hands!"</p> + +<p>With a leap Norton grasped the boy again and shook him madly:</p> + +<p>"Married already? It's not true, I tell you! It's not true. You're lying to +me—lying to gain time—it's not true!"</p> + +<p>"You wish me to swear it?"</p> + +<p>"Silence, sir!" the father cried in solemn tones. "You are my son—this is +my house—I order you to be silent!"</p> + +<p>"Before God, I swear it's true! Helen is my lawful——"</p> + +<p>"Don't say it! It's false—you lie, I tell you!" Again the father shook him +with cruel violence, his eyes staring with the glitter of a maniac.</p> + +<p>Tom seized the trembling hands and threw them from his shoulders with a +quick movement of anger:</p> + +<p>"If that's all you've got to say, sir, excuse me, I'll go to my wife!"</p> + +<p>He wheeled, slammed the door and was gone.</p> + +<p>The father stared a moment, stunned, looked around blankly, placed his +hands over his ears and held them, crying:</p> + +<p>"God have mercy!"</p> + +<p>He rushed to a window and threw it open. The band was playing "For He's a +Jolly Good Fellow!" The mocking strains rolled over his prostrate soul. He +leaned heavily against the casement and groaned:</p> + +<p>"My God!"</p> + +<p>He slammed the sash, staggered back into the room, lifted his eyes in a +leaden stare at the portrait over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span> the mantel, and then rushed toward it +with uplifted arms and streaming eyes:</p> + +<p>"It's not true, dearest! Don't believe it—it's not true, I tell you! It's +not true!"</p> + +<p>The voice sank into inarticulate sobs, he reeled and fell, a limp, black +heap on the floor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>THE ONE CHANCE</h3> + + +<p>The dim light began to creep into the darkened brain at last. Norton's eyes +opened wider and the long arms felt their way on the floor until they +touched a rug and then a chair. He tried to think what had happened and why +he was lying there. It seemed a dream, half feverish, half restful. His +head was aching and he was very tired.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he murmured, unable to lift his head.</p> + +<p>He was whirling through space again and the room faded. Once before in his +life had he been knocked insensible. From the trenches before Petersburg in +the last days of the war he had led his little band of less than five +hundred ragged, half-starved, tatterdemalions in a mad charge against the +line in front. A bomb from a battery on a hilltop exploded directly before +them. He had been thrown into the air and landed on a heap of dead bodies, +bruised and stunned into insensibility. He had waked feeling the dead limbs +and wondering if they were his own.</p> + +<p>He rubbed his hands now, first over his head, and then over each limb, to +find if all were there. He felt his body to see if a bomb had torn part of +it away.</p> + +<p>And then the light of memory suddenly flashed into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> the darkened mind and +he drew himself to his knees and fumbled his way to a chair.</p> + +<p>"Married? Married already!" he gasped. "O, God, it can't be true! And he +said, 'married an hour before you dragged me away in that campaign'"—it +was too hideous! He laughed in sheer desperation and again his brain +refused to work. He pressed his hands to his forehead and looked about the +room, rose, staggered to the bell and rang for Andy.</p> + +<p>When his black face appeared, he lifted his bloodshot eyes and said feebly:</p> + +<p>"Whiskey——"</p> + +<p>The negro bowed:</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>He pulled himself together and tried to walk. He could only reel from one +piece of furniture to the next. His head was on fire. He leaned again +against the mantel for support and dropped his head on his arm in utter +weariness:</p> + +<p>"I must think! I must think!"</p> + +<p>Slowly the power to reason returned.</p> + +<p>"What can I do? What can I do?" he kept repeating mechanically, until the +only chance of escape crept slowly into his mind. He grasped it with +feverish hope.</p> + +<p>If Tom had married but an hour before leaving on that campaign, he hadn't +returned until to-day. But had he? It was, of course, a physical +possibility. From the nearby counties, he could have ridden a swift horse +through the night, reached home and returned the next day without his +knowing it. It was possible, but not probable. He wouldn't believe it until +he had to.</p> + +<p>If he had married in haste the morning he had left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span> town and had only +rejoined Helen to-night, it was no marriage. It was a ceremony that had no +meaning. In law it was void and could be annulled immediately. But if he +were really married in all that word means—his mind stopped short and +refused to go on.</p> + +<p>He would cross that bridge when he came to it. But he must find out at once +and he must know before he saw Tom again.</p> + +<p>His brain responded with its old vigor under the pressure of the new +crisis. One by one his powers returned and his mind was deep in its tragic +problem when Andy entered the room with a tray on which stood a decanter of +whiskey, a glass of water and two small empty glasses.</p> + +<p>The negro extended the tray. Norton was staring into space and paid no +attention.</p> + +<p>Andy took one of the empty glasses and clicked it against the other. There +was still no sign of recognition until he pushed the tray against Norton's +arm and cleared his throat:</p> + +<p>"Ahem! Ahem!"</p> + +<p>The dazed man turned slowly and looked at the tray and then at the grinning +negro:</p> + +<p>"What's this?"</p> + +<p>Andy's face kindled with enthusiasm:</p> + +<p>"Dat is moonshine, sah—de purest mountain dew—yassah!"</p> + +<p>"Whiskey?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah," was the astonished reply, "de whiskey you jis ring fer, sah!"</p> + +<p>"Take it back!"</p> + +<p>Andy could not believe his ears. The major was certainly in a queer mood. +Was he losing his mind?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was nothing to do but obey. He bowed and turned away:</p> + +<p>"Yassah."</p> + +<p>Norton watched him with a dazed look and cried suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"Back!"</p> + +<p>"Stop!"</p> + +<p>Andy stopped with a sudden jerk:</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>"Put that tray down on the table!"</p> + +<p>The negro obeyed but watched his master out of the corners of his eye:</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>Again Norton forgot Andy's existence, his eyes fixed in space, his mind in +a whirl of speculation in which he felt his soul and body sinking deeper. +The negro was watching him with increasing suspicion and fear as he turned +his head in the direction of the table.</p> + +<p>"What are you standing there for?" he asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"You say stop, sah."</p> + +<p>"Well, get away—get out!" Norton cried with sudden anger.</p> + +<p>Andy backed rapidly:</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>As he reached the doorway Norton's command rang so sharply that the negro +spun around on one foot:</p> + +<p>"Wait!"</p> + +<p>"Y—yas—sah!"</p> + +<p>The master took a step toward the trembling figure with an imperious +gesture:</p> + +<p>"Come here!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span></p> + +<p>Andy approached gingerly, glancing from side to side for the best way of +retreat in case of emergency:</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" Norton demanded.</p> + +<p>Andy laughed feebly:</p> + +<p>"I—I—I dunno, sah; I wuz des wonderin' what's de matter wid you, sah!"</p> + +<p>"Tell me!"</p> + +<p>The negro's teeth were chattering as he glanced up:</p> + +<p>"Yassah! I tell all I know, sah!"</p> + +<p>Norton fixed him with a stern look:</p> + +<p>"Has Tom been back here during the past four weeks?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah!" was the surprised answer, "he bin wid you, sah!"</p> + +<p>The voice softened to persuasive tones:</p> + +<p>"He hasn't slipped back here even for an hour since I've been gone?"</p> + +<p>"I nebber seed him!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask you," Norton said threateningly, "whether you'd 'seed' +him"—he paused and dropped each word with deliberate emphasis—"I asked +you if you knew whether he'd been here?"</p> + +<p>Andy mopped his brow and glanced at his inquisitor with terror:</p> + +<p>"Nasah, I don't know nuttin', sah!"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you lied to me?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah! yassah," the negro replied in friendly conciliation. "I has +pér-var-i-cated sometimes—but I sho is tellin' you de truf dis time, sah!"</p> + +<p>The master glared at him a moment and suddenly sprang at his throat, both +hands clasping his neck with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> a strangling grip. Andy dropped spluttering +to his knees.</p> + +<p>"You're lying to me!" Norton growled. "Out with the truth now"—his grip +tightened—"out with it, or I'll choke it out of you!"</p> + +<p>Andy grasped the tightening fingers and drew them down:</p> + +<p>"Fer Gawd's sake, major, doan' do dat!"</p> + +<p>"Has Tom been back here during the past weeks to see Miss Helen?"</p> + +<p>Andy struggled with the desperate fingers:</p> + +<p>"Doan' do dat, major—doan' do dat! I ain't holdin' nuttin' back—I let it +all out, sah!"</p> + +<p>The grip slackened:</p> + +<p>"Then out with the whole truth!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah. Des tell me what ye wants me ter say, sah, an' I sho say hit!"</p> + +<p>"Bah! You miserable liar!" Norton cried in disgust, hurling him to the +floor, and striding angrily from the room. "You're all in this thing, all +of you! You're all in it—all in it!"</p> + +<p>Andy scrambled to his feet and rushed to the window in time to see him +hurry down the steps and disappear in the shadows of the lawn. He stood +watching with open mouth and staring eyes:</p> + +<p>"Well, 'fore de Lawd, ef he ain't done gone plum crazy!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>BETWEEN TWO FIRES</h3> + + +<p>So intent was Andy's watch on the lawn, so rapt his wonder and terror at +the sudden assault, he failed to hear Cleo's step as she entered the room, +walked to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder:</p> + +<p>"Andy——"</p> + +<p>With a loud groan he dropped to his knees:</p> + +<p>"De Lawd save me!"</p> + +<p>Cleo drew back with amazement at the prostrate figure:</p> + +<p>"What on earth's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—oh, Lawd," he shivered, scrambling to his feet and mopping his brow. +"Lordy, I thought de major got me dat time sho!"</p> + +<p>"You thought the major had you?" Cleo cried incredulously.</p> + +<p>Andy ran back to the window and looked out again:</p> + +<p>"Yassam—yassam! De major try ter kill me—he's er regular maniacker—gone +wild——"</p> + +<p>"What about?"</p> + +<p>The black hands went to his throat:</p> + +<p>"Bout my windpipes, 'pears like!"</p> + +<p>"What did he do?"</p> + +<p>"Got me in de <i>gills</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Why?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dunno," was the whispered answer as he peered out the window. "He asked me +if Mr. Tom been back here in de past fo' weeks——"</p> + +<p>"Asked if Tom had been back here?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam!"</p> + +<p>"What a fool question, when he's had the boy with him every day! He must +have gone crazy."</p> + +<p>"Yassam!" Andy agreed with unction as he turned back into the room and +threw both hands high above his head in wild gestures. "He say we wuz all +in it! Dat what he say—we wuz all in it! <i>All</i> in it!"</p> + +<p>"In what?"</p> + +<p>"Gawd knows!" he cried, as his hands again went to his neck to feel if +anything were broken, "Gawd knows, but he sho wuz gittin' inside er me!"</p> + +<p>Cleo spoke with stern appeal:</p> + +<p>"Well, you're a man; you'll know how to defend yourself next time, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam!—yas, m'am!" Andy answered boldly. "Oh, I fit 'im! Don't you think +I didn't fight him! I fit des lak er wild-cat—yassam!"</p> + +<p>The woman's eyes narrowed and her voice purred:</p> + +<p>"You're going to stand by me now?"</p> + +<p>"Dat I is!" was the brave response.</p> + +<p>"You'll do anything for me?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam!"</p> + +<p>"Defend me with your life if the major attacks me to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Dat I will!"</p> + +<p>Cleo leaned close:</p> + +<p>"You'll die for me?"</p> + +<p>"Yassam! yassam—I'll <i>die</i> fer you—I'll die fer ye;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span> of cose I'll <i>die</i> +for ye! B-b-but fer Gawd's sake what ye want wid er dead nigger?"</p> + +<p>Andy leaped back in terror as Norton's tall figure suddenly appeared in the +door, his rumpled iron-gray hair gleaming in the shadows, his eyes flashing +with an unnatural light. He quickly crossed the room and lifted his index +finger toward Cleo:</p> + +<p>"Just a word with you——"</p> + +<p>The woman's hands met nervously, and she glanced at Andy:</p> + +<p>"Very well, but I want a witness. Andy can stay."</p> + +<p>Norton merely glanced at the negro:</p> + +<p>"Get out!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>"Stay where you are!" Cleo commanded.</p> + +<p>"Y—yassam"—Andy stammered, halting.</p> + +<p>"Get out!" Norton growled.</p> + +<p>Andy jumped into the doorway at a single bound:</p> + +<p>"Done out, sah!"</p> + +<p>The major lifted his hand and the negro stopped:</p> + +<p>"Tell Minerva I want to see her."</p> + +<p>Andy hastened toward the hall, the whites of his eyes shining:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, but she ain't in de kitchen, sah!"</p> + +<p>"Find her and bring her here!" Norton thundered. His words rang like the +sudden peal of a gun at close quarters:</p> + +<p>Andy jumped:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, yassah, I fetch her! I fetch her!" As he flew through the door he +repeated humbly:</p> + +<p>"I fetch her, right away, sah—right away, sah!"</p> + +<p>Cleo watched his cowardly desertion with lips curled in scorn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>A SURPRISE</h3> + + +<p>For a while Norton stood with folded arms gazing at Cleo, his eyes +smouldering fires of wonder and loathing. The woman was trembling beneath +his fierce scrutiny, but he evidently had not noted the fact. His mind was +busy with a bigger problem of character and the possible depths to which a +human being might fall and still retain the human form. He was wondering +how a man of his birth and breeding, the heir to centuries of culture and +refinement, of high thinking and noble aspirations, could ever have sunk to +the level of this yellow animal—this bundle of rags and coarse flesh! It +was incredible! His loathing for her was surpassed by one thing only—his +hatred of himself.</p> + +<p>He was free in this moment as never before. In the fearlessness of death +soul and body stood erect and gazed calmly out on time and eternity.</p> + +<p>There was one thing about the woman he couldn't understand. That she was +without moral scruple—that she was absolutely unmoral in her fundamental +being—he could easily believe. In fact, he could believe nothing else. +That she would not hesitate to defy every law of God or man to gain her +end, he never doubted for a moment. But that a creature of her cunning and +trained intelligence could deliberately destroy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> herself by such an act of +mad revenge was unreasonable. He began dimly to suspect that her plans had +gone awry. How completely she had been crushed by her own trap he could not +yet guess.</p> + +<p>She was struggling frantically now to regain her composure but his sullen +silence and his piercing eyes were telling on her nerves. She was on the +verge of screaming in his face when he said in low, intense tones:</p> + +<p>"You did get even with me—didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't think <i>you</i> quite capable of this!"</p> + +<p>His words were easier to bear than silence. She felt an instant relief and +pulled herself together with a touch of bravado:</p> + +<p>"And now that you see I am, what are you going to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"That's my secret," was the quiet reply. "There's just one thing that +puzzles me!"</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"How you could willfully and deliberately do this beastly thing?"</p> + +<p>"For one reason only, I threw them together and brought about their love +affair——"</p> + +<p>"Revenge—yes," Norton interrupted, "but the boy—you don't hate him—you +can't. You've always loved him as if he were your own——"</p> + +<p>"Well, what of it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm wondering——"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>His voice was low, vibrant but quiet:</p> + +<p>"Why, if your mother instincts have always been so powerful and you've +loved my boy with such devotion"—the tones quickened to sudden +menace—"why you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> were so willing to give up your own child that day twenty +years ago?"</p> + +<p>He held her gaze until her own fell:</p> + +<p>"I—I—don't understand you," she said falteringly.</p> + +<p>He seized her with violence and drew her squarely before him:</p> + +<p>"Look at me!" he cried fiercely. "Look me in the face!" He paused until she +slowly lifted her eyes to his and finally glared at him with hate. "I want +to see your soul now if you've got one. There's just one chance and I'm +clutching at that as a drowning man a straw."</p> + +<p>"Well?" she asked defiantly.</p> + +<p>Norton's words were hurled at her, each one a solid shot:</p> + +<p>"Would you have given up that child without a struggle—if she had really +been your own?"</p> + +<p>"Why—what—do you—mean?" Cleo asked, her eyes shifting.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean. If Helen is really your child, why did you give her +up so easily that day?"</p> + +<p>"Why?" she repeated blankly.</p> + +<p>"Answer my question!"</p> + +<p>With an effort she recovered her composure:</p> + +<p>"You know why! I was mad. I was a miserable fool. I did it because you +asked it. I did it to please you, and I've cursed myself for it ever +since."</p> + +<p>Norton's grip slowly relaxed, and he turned thoughtfully away. The woman's +hand went instinctively to the bruises he had left on her arms as she +stepped back nearer the door and watched him furtively.</p> + +<p>"It's possible, yes!" he cried turning again to face her suddenly. "And yet +if you are human how could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span> you dare defy the laws of man and God to bring +about this marriage?"</p> + +<p>"It's not a question of marriage yet," she sneered. "You've simply got to +acknowledge her, that's all. That's why I brought her here. That's why I've +helped their love affair. You're in my power now. You've got to tell Tom +that Helen is my daughter, and yours—his half sister! Now that they're in +love with one another you've got to do it!"</p> + +<p>Norton drew back in amazement:</p> + +<p>"You mean to tell me that you don't know that they are married?"</p> + +<p>With a cry of surprise and terror, the woman leaped to his side, her voice +a whisper:</p> + +<p>"Married? Who says they are married?"</p> + +<p>"Tom has just said so."</p> + +<p>"But they are not married!" she cried hysterically. "They can't marry!"</p> + +<p>Norton fixed her with a keen look:</p> + +<p>"They <i>are</i> married!"</p> + +<p>The woman wrung her hands nervously:</p> + +<p>"But you can separate them if you tell them the truth. That's all you've +got to do. Tell them now—tell them at once!"</p> + +<p>Never losing the gaze with which he was piercing her soul Norton said in +slow menacing tones:</p> + +<p>"There's another way!"</p> + +<p>He turned from her suddenly and walked toward the desk. She followed a +step, trembling.</p> + +<p>"Another way"—she repeated.</p> + +<p>Norton turned:</p> + +<p>"An old way brave men have always known—I'll take it if I must!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span></p> + +<p>Chilled with fear Cleo glanced in a panic about the room and spoke feebly:</p> + +<p>"You—you—don't mean——"</p> + +<p>Minerva and Andy entered cautiously as Norton answered:</p> + +<p>"No matter what I mean, it's enough for you to know that I'm free—free +from you—I breathe clean air at last!"</p> + +<p>Minerva shot Cleo a look:</p> + +<p>"Praise God!"</p> + +<p>Cleo extended a hand in pleading:</p> + +<p>"Major——"</p> + +<p>"That will do now!" he said sternly. "Go!"</p> + +<p>Cleo turned hurriedly to the door leading toward the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Not that way!" Norton called sharply. "Tom has no further need of your +advice. Go to the servants' quarters and stay there. I am the master of +this house to-night!"</p> + +<p>Cleo slowly crossed the room and left through the door leading to the +kitchen, watching Norton with terror. Minerva broke into a loud laugh and +Andy took refuge behind her ample form.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>VIA DOLOROSA</h3> + + +<p>Minerva was still laughing at the collapse of her enemy and Andy sheltering +himself behind her when a sharp call cut her laughter short:</p> + +<p>"Minerva!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah"—she answered soberly.</p> + +<p>"You have been a faithful servant to me," Norton began, "you have never +lied——"</p> + +<p>"An' I ain't gwine ter begin now, sah."</p> + +<p>He searched her black face keenly:</p> + +<p>"Did Tom slip back here to see Miss Helen while I was away on this last +trip?"</p> + +<p>Minerva looked at Andy, fumbled with her apron, started to speak, hesitated +and finally admitted feebly:</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>Andy's eyes fairly bulged:</p> + +<p>"De Lordy, major, I didn't know dat, sah!"</p> + +<p>Norton glanced at him:</p> + +<p>"Shut up!"</p> + +<p>"You ain't gwine ter be hard on 'em, major?" Minerva pleaded.</p> + +<p>He ignored her interruption and went on evenly:</p> + +<p>"How many times did he come?"</p> + +<p>"Twice, sah."</p> + +<p>"He sho come in de night time den!" Andy broke in. "I nebber seed 'im +once!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton bent close:</p> + +<p>"How long did he stay?"</p> + +<p>Minerva fidgeted, hesitated again and finally said:</p> + +<p>"Once he stay about er hour——"</p> + +<p>"And the other time?"</p> + +<p>She looked in vain for a way of escape, the perspiration standing in beads +on her shining black face:</p> + +<p>"He stay all night, sah."</p> + +<p>A moment of stillness followed. Norton's eyes closed, and his face became a +white mask. He breathed deeply and then spoke quietly:</p> + +<p>"You—you knew they were married?"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!" was the quick reply. "I seed 'em married. Miss Helen axed me, +sah."</p> + +<p>Andy lifted his hands in solemn surprise and walled his eyes at Minerva:</p> + +<p>"Well, 'fore Gawd!"</p> + +<p>Another moment of silence and Andy's mouth was still open with wonder when +a call like the crack of a revolver suddenly rang through the room:</p> + +<p>"Andy!"</p> + +<p>The negro dropped to his knees and lifted his hands:</p> + +<p>"Don't do nuttin' ter me, sah! 'Fore de Lawd, major, I 'clare I nebber +knowed it! Dey fool me, sah—I'd a tole you sho!"</p> + +<p>Norton frowned:</p> + +<p>"Shut your mouth and get up."</p> + +<p>"Yassah!" Andy cried. "Hit's shet an' I'se up!"</p> + +<p>He scrambled to his feet and watched his master.</p> + +<p>"You and Minerva go down that back stairway into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span> the basement, fasten the +windows and lock the doors."</p> + +<p>Andy's eyes were two white moons in the shadows as he cried through +chattering teeth:</p> + +<p>"G—g—odder mighty—what—what's de matter, major?"</p> + +<p>"Do as I tell you, quick!"</p> + +<p>Andy dodged and leaped toward the door:</p> + +<p>"R—right away, sah!"</p> + +<p>"Pay no attention to anything Mr. Tom may say to you——"</p> + +<p>"Nasah," Andy gasped. "I pay no 'tension ter nobody, sah!"</p> + +<p>"When you've fastened everything below, do the same on this floor and come +back here—I want you."</p> + +<p>"Y-y-yas—sah! R-r-r-right a-way, sah!"</p> + +<p>Andy backed out, beckoning frantically to Minerva. She ignored him and +watched Norton as he turned toward a window and looked vaguely out. As Andy +continued his frantic calls she slipped to the doorway and whispered:</p> + +<p>"G'long! I be dar in er minute. You po' fool, you can't talk nohow. You're +skeered er de major. I'm gwine do my duty now, I'm gwine ter tell him +sumfin' quick——"</p> + +<p>Norton wheeled on her with sudden fury:</p> + +<p>"Do as I tell you! Do as I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Minerva dodged at each explosion, backing away. She paused and extended her +hand pleadingly:</p> + +<p>"Can't I put in des one little word, sah?"</p> + +<p>"Not another word!" he thundered, advancing on her—"Go!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go! I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Dodging again, she hurried below to join Andy. Norton turned back into the +room and stood staring at something that gleamed with sinister brightness +from the top of the little writing desk. An electric lamp with crimson +shade seemed to focus every ray of light on the shining steel and a devil +in the shadows pointed a single finger and laughed:</p> + +<p>"It's ready—just where you laid it!"</p> + +<p>He took a step toward the desk, stopped and gripped the back of the settee, +steadied himself, and glared at the thing with fascination. He walked +unsteadily to the chair in front of the desk and stared again. His hand +moved to grasp the revolver and hesitated. And then, the last thought of +pity strangled, he gripped the handle, lifted it with quick familiar touch, +grasped the top clasp, loosed the barrel, threw the cylinder open and +examined the shells, dropped them into his hand and saw that there were no +blanks. One by one he slowly replaced them, snapped the cylinder in place +and put the weapon in his pocket.</p> + +<p>He glanced about the room furtively, walked to each of the tall French +windows, closed the shutters and carefully drew the heavy draperies. He +turned the switch of the electric lights, extinguishing all in the room +save the small red one burning on the desk. He would need that in a moment.</p> + +<p>He walked softly to the foot of the stairs and called:</p> + +<p>"Tom!"</p> + +<p>Waiting and receiving no answer he called again:</p> + +<p>"Tom! Tom!"</p> + +<p>A door opened above and the boy answered:</p> + +<p>"Well?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just a word, my son," the gentle voice called.</p> + +<p>"I've nothing to say, sir! We're packing our trunks to leave at once."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I understand," the father answered tenderly. "You're going, of +course, and it can't be helped—but just a minute, my son; we must say +good-by in a decent way, you know—and—I've something to show you before +you go"—the voice broke—"you—won't try to leave without seeing me?"</p> + +<p>There was a short silence and the answer came in friendly tones:</p> + +<p>"I'll see you. I'll be down in a few minutes."</p> + +<p>The father murmured:</p> + +<p>"Thank God!"</p> + +<p>He hurried back to the library, unlocked a tiny drawer in the desk, drew +out a plain envelope from which he took the piece of paper on which was +scrawled the last message from the boy's mother. His hand trembled as he +read and slowly placed it in a small pigeon-hole.</p> + +<p>He took his pen and began to write rapidly on a pad of legal cap paper.</p> + +<p>While he was still busy with his writing, in obedience to his orders, Andy +and Minerva returned. They stopped at the doorway and peeped in cautiously +before entering. Astonished and terrified to find the room so dimly lighted +they held a whispered conference in the hall:</p> + +<p>"Better not go in dar, chile!" Andy warned.</p> + +<p>"Ah, come on, you fool!" Minerva insisted. "He ain't gwine ter hurt us!"</p> + +<p>"I tell ye he's wild—he's gone crazy, sho's yer born! I kin feel dem +fingers playin' on my windpipe now!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What's he doin' dar at dat desk?" Minerva asked.</p> + +<p>"He's writin' good-by ter dis world, I'm tellin' ye, an' hit's time me an' +you wuz makin' tracks!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, come on!" the woman urged.</p> + +<p>Andy hung back and shook his head:</p> + +<p>"Nasah—I done bin in dar an' got my dose!"</p> + +<p>"You slip up behin' him an' see what he's writin'," Minerva suggested.</p> + +<p>"Na, you slip up!"</p> + +<p>"You're de littlest an' makes less fuss," she argued.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you'se de biggest an' you las' de longest in er scrimmage——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, go on!" she commanded, getting behind Andy and suddenly pushing him +into the room.</p> + +<p>He rushed back into her arms, but she pushed him firmly on:</p> + +<p>"G'long, I tell ye, fool, an' see what he's doin'. I back ye up."</p> + +<p>Andy balked and she pressed him another step:</p> + +<p>"G'long!"</p> + +<p>He motioned her to come closer, whispering:</p> + +<p>"Ef yer gwine ter stan' by me, for de Lawd's sake stan' by me—don't stan' +by de do'!"</p> + +<p>Seeing that retreat was cut off and he was in for it, the negro picked his +way cautiously on tip-toe until he leaned over the chair and tried to read +what his master was writing.</p> + +<p>Norton looked up suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Andy!"</p> + +<p>He jumped in terror:</p> + +<p>"I—I—didn't see nuttin', major! Nasah! I nebber seed a thing, sah!"</p> + +<p>Norton calmly lifted his head and looked into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> black face that had been +his companion so many years:</p> + +<p>"I want you to see it!"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Andy cried with surprised relief, "you wants me to see hit"—he +glanced at Minerva and motioned her to come nearer. "Well, dat's different, +sah. Yer know I wouldn't er tried ter steal er glimpse of it ef I'd knowed +ye wuz gwine ter show it ter me. I allers is er gemman, sah!"</p> + +<p>Norton handed him the paper:</p> + +<p>"I taught you to read and write, Andy. You can do me a little service +to-night—read that!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah—yassah," he answered, pompously, adjusting his coat and vest. He +held the paper up before him, struck it lightly with the back of his hand +and cleared his throat:</p> + +<p>"Me an' you has bin writin' fer de newspapers now 'bout fifteen +years—yassah"—he paused and hurriedly read the document. "Dis yo' will, +sah? An' de Lawd er mussy, 'tain't more'n ten lines. An' dey hain't nary +one er dem whereases an' haremditaments aforesaids, like de lawyers puts in +dem in de Cote House—hit's des plain writin"—he paused again—"ye gives +de house, an' ten thousand dollars ter Miss Helen an' all yer got ter de +Columnerzation Society ter move de niggers ter er place er dey own!"—he +paused again and walled his eyes at Minerva. "What gwine come er Mr. Tom?"</p> + +<p>Norton's head sank:</p> + +<p>"He'll be rich without this! Sign your name here as a witness," he said +shortly, picking up the pen.</p> + +<p>Andy took the pen, rolled up his sleeve carefully, bent over the desk, +paused and scratched his head:</p> + +<p>"Don't yer think, major, dat's er terrible pile er money ter fling loose +'mongst er lot er niggers?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton's eyes were dreaming again and Andy went on insinuatingly: "Now, +wouldn't hit be better, sah, des ter pick out one good <i>reliable</i> nigger +dat yer knows pussonally—an' move him?"</p> + +<p>Norton looked up impatiently:</p> + +<p>"Sign it!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah! Cose, sah, you knows bes', sah, but 'pears ter me lak er powerful +waste er good money des flingin' it broadcast!"</p> + +<p>Norton lifted his finger warningly and Andy hastened to sign his name with +a flourish of the pen. He looked at it admiringly:</p> + +<p>"Dar now! Dey sho know dat's me! I practise on dat quereque two whole +mont's——"</p> + +<p>Norton folded the will, placed it in an envelope, addressed it and lifted +his drawn face:</p> + +<p>"Tell the Clerk of the Court that I executed this will to-night and placed +it in this desk"—his voice became inaudible a moment and went on—"Ask him +to call for it to-morrow and record it for me."</p> + +<p>Minerva, who had been listening and watching with the keenest interest, +pressed forward and asked in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, but whar's you gwine ter be? You sho ain't gwine ter die +ter-night?"</p> + +<p>Norton quietly recovered himself and replied angrily:</p> + +<p>"Do I look as if I were dying?"</p> + +<p>"Nasah!—But ain't dey no way dat I kin help ye, major? De young folks is +gwine ter leave, sah——"</p> + +<p>"They are not going until I'm ready!" was the grim answer.</p> + +<p>"Nasah, but dey's gwine," the black woman replied tenderly. "Ye can't stop +'em long. Lemme plead fur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> 'em, sah! You wuz young an' wild once, +major"—the silvery gray head sank low and the white lips quivered—"you +take all yer money frum Mister Tom—what he care fer dat now wid love +singin' in his heart? Young folks is young folks——"</p> + +<p>Norton lifted his head and stared as in a dream.</p> + +<p>"Won't ye hear me, sah? Can't I go upstairs an' speak de good word ter +Mister Tom now an' tell him hit's all right?"</p> + +<p>A sudden idea flashed into Norton's mind.</p> + +<p>The ruse would be the surest and quickest way to get Tom into the room +alone.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he answered, glancing at her. "You can say that to him now——"</p> + +<p>Minerva laughed:</p> + +<p>"I kin go right up dar to his room now an' tell 'im dat you're er waitin' +here wid yer arms open an' yer heart full er love an' fergiveness?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, go at once"—he paused—"and keep Miss Helen there a few minutes. I +want to see him first—you understand——"</p> + +<p>"Yassah! yassah!" Minerva cried, hastening to the door followed by Andy. "I +understands, I understands"—she turned on Andy. "Ye hear dat, you fool +nigger? Ain't I done tole you dat hit would all come out right ef I could +des say de good word? Gloree! We gwine ter hab dat weddin' all over agin! +You des wait till yer seen dat cake I gwine ter bake——"</p> + +<p>With a quick turn she was about to pass through the door when Andy caught +her sleeve:</p> + +<p>"Miss Minerva!"</p> + +<p>"Yas, honey!"</p> + +<p>"Miss Minerva," he repeated, nervously glancing at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> Norton, "fer Gawd's +sake don't you leave me now! You'se de only restful pusson in dis house!"</p> + +<p>With a triumphant laugh Minerva whispered:</p> + +<p>"I'll be right back in a minute, honey!"</p> + +<p>Norton had watched with apparent carelessness until Minerva had gone. He +sprang quickly to his feet, crossed the room and spoke in an excited +whisper:</p> + +<p>"Andy!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah!"</p> + +<p>"Go down to that front gate and stay there. Turn back anybody who tries to +come in. Don't you allow a soul to enter the lawn."</p> + +<p>"I'll do de best I kin, sah," he replied hastening toward the door.</p> + +<p>Norton took an angry step toward him:</p> + +<p>"You do exactly as I tell you, sir!"</p> + +<p>Andy jumped and replied quickly:</p> + +<p>"Yassah, but ef dem serenaders come back here you know dey ain't gwine pay +no 'tensun ter no nigger talkin' to 'em—dat's what dey er celebratin' +erbout——"</p> + +<p>Norton frowned and was silent a moment:</p> + +<p>"Say that I ask them not to come in."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell 'em, sah, but I spec I'll hatter climb er tree 'fore I explains +hit to 'em—but I tell 'em, sah—yassah."</p> + +<p>As Andy slowly backed out, Norton said sternly:</p> + +<p>"I'll call you when I want you. Stay until I do!"</p> + +<p>"Yassah," Andy breathed softly as he disappeared trembling and wondering.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>THE DREGS IN THE CUP</h3> + + +<p>Norton walked quickly to the window, drew back the draperies, opened the +casement and looked out to see if Andy were eavesdropping. He watched the +lazy figure cross the lawn, glancing back at the house. The full moon, at +its zenith, was shining in a quiet glory, uncanny in its dazzling +brilliance.</p> + +<p>He stood drinking in for the last time the perfumed sweetness and languor +of the Southern night. His senses seemed supernaturally acute. He could +distinctly note the odors of the different flowers that were in bloom on +the lawn. A gentle breeze was blowing from the path across the old rose +garden. The faint, sweet odor of the little white carnations his mother had +planted along the walks stole over his aching soul and he was a child again +watching her delicate hands plant them, while grumbling slaves protested at +the soiling of her fingers. She was looking up with a smile saying:</p> + +<p>"I love to plant them. I feel that they are my children then, and I'm +making the world sweet and beautiful through them!"</p> + +<p>Had he made the world sweeter and more beautiful?</p> + +<p>He asked himself the question sternly.</p> + +<p>"God knows I've tried for twenty years—and it has come to this!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span></p> + +<p>The breeze softened, the odor of the pinks grew; fainter and the strange +penetrating smell of the hedge of tuberoses swept in from the other +direction with the chill of Death in its breath.</p> + +<p>His heart rose in rebellion. It was too horrible, such an end of life! He +was scarcely forty-nine years old. Never had the blood pulsed through his +veins with stronger throb and never had his vision of life seemed clearer +and stronger than to-day when he had faced those thousands of cheering men +and hinted for the first time his greater plans for uplifting the Nation's +life.</p> + +<p>The sense of utter loneliness overwhelmed his soul. The nearest being in +the universe whose presence he could feel was the dead wife and mother.</p> + +<p>His eye rested on the portrait tenderly:</p> + +<p>"We're coming, dearest, to-night!"</p> + +<p>For the first time his spirit faced the mystery of eternity at close range. +He had long speculated in theories of immortality and brooded over the +problem of the world that lies but a moment beyond the senses.</p> + +<p>He had clasped hands with Death now and stood face to face, calm and +unafraid. His mind quickened with the thought of the strange world into +which he would be ushered within an hour. Would he know and understand? Or +would the waves of oblivion roll over the prostrate body without a sign? It +couldn't be! The hunger of immortality was too keen for doubt. He would see +and know! The cry rose triumphant within. He refused to perish with the +moth and worm. The baser parts of his being might die—the nobler must +live. There could be no other meaning to this sublimely cruel and mad +decision to kill the body rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span> than see it dishonored. His eye caught +the twinkle of a star through the branches of a tree-top. His feet would +find the pathway among those shining worlds! There could be no other +meaning to the big thing that throbbed and ached within and refused to be +content to whelp and stable here as a beast of the field. Pride, Honor, +Aspiration, Prayer, meant this or nothing!</p> + +<p>"I've made blunders here," he cried, "but I'm searching for the light and +I'll find the face of God!"</p> + +<p>The distant shouts of cheering hosts still celebrating in the Square +brought his mind to earth with a sickening shock. He closed the windows, +and drew the curtains. His hands clutched the velvet hangings in a moment +of physical weakness and he steadied himself before turning to call Tom.</p> + +<p>Recovering his composure in a measure, his hand touched the revolver in his +pocket, the tall figure instinctively straightened and he walked rapidly +toward the hall. He had barely passed the centre of the room when the boy's +voice distinctly echoed from the head of the stairs:</p> + +<p>"I'll be back in a minute, dear!"</p> + +<p>He heard the door of Helen's room close softly and the firm step descend +the stairs. The library door opened and closed quickly, and Tom stood +before him, his proud young head lifted and his shoulders squared. The +dignity and reserve of conscious manhood shone in every line of his +stalwart body and spoke in every movement of face and form.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," he said quietly. "It's done now and it can't be helped, you +know."</p> + +<p>Norton was stunned by the sudden appearance of the dear familiar form. His +eyes were dim with unshed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span> tears. It was too hideous, this awful thing he +had to do! He stared at him piteously and with an effort walked to his +side, speaking in faltering tones that choked between the words:</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's done now—and it can't be helped"—he strangled and couldn't go +on—"I—I—have realized that, my son—but I—I have an old letter from +your mother—that I wanted to show you before you go—you'll find it on the +desk there."</p> + +<p>He pointed to the desk on which burned the only light in the room.</p> + +<p>The boy hesitated, pained by the signs of deep anguish in his father's +face, turned and rapidly crossed the room.</p> + +<p>The moment his back was turned, Norton swiftly and silently locked the +door, and with studied carelessness followed.</p> + +<p>The boy began to search for the letter:</p> + +<p>"I don't see it, sir."</p> + +<p>The father, watching him with feverish eyes, started at his voice, raised +his hand to his forehead and walked quickly to his side:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I—I—forgot—I put it away!"</p> + +<p>He dropped limply into the chair before the desk, fumbled among the papers +and drew the letter from the pigeon-hole in which he had placed it.</p> + +<p>He held it in his hand, shaking now like a leaf, and read again the scrawl +that he had blurred with tears and kisses. He placed his hand on the top of +the desk, rose with difficulty and looked for Tom. The boy had moved +quietly toward the table. The act was painfully significant of their new +relations. The sense of alienation cut the broken man to the quick. He +could scarcely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> see as he felt his way to the boy's side and extended the +open sheet of paper without a word.</p> + +<p>Tom took the letter, turned his back on his father and read it in silence.</p> + +<p>"How queer her handwriting!" he said at length.</p> + +<p>Norton spoke in strained muffled tones:</p> + +<p>"Yes—she—she was dying when she scrawled that. The mists of the other +world were gathering about her. I don't think she could see the paper"—the +voice broke, he fought for self-control and then went on—"but every tiny +slip of her pencil, each little weak hesitating mark etched itself in fire +on my heart"—the voice stopped and then went on—"you can read them?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>The father's long trembling finger traced slowly each word:</p> + +<p>"'Remember that I love you and have forgiven——'"</p> + +<p>"Forgiven what?" Tom interrupted.</p> + +<p>Norton turned deadly pale, recovered himself and began in a low voice:</p> + +<p>"You see, boy, I grew up under the old régime. Like a lot of other fellows +with whom I ran, I drank, gambled and played the devil—you know what that +meant in those days——"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," the boy interrupted. "That's just what I don't know. I +belong to a new generation. And you've made a sort of exception of me even +among the men of to-day. You taught me to keep away from women. I learned +the lesson. I formed clean habits, and so I don't know just what you mean +by that. Tell me plainly."</p> + +<p>"It's hard to say it to you, my boy!" the older man faltered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want to know it."</p> + +<p>"I—I mean that twenty years ago it was more common than now for youngsters +to get mixed up with girls of negroid blood——"</p> + +<p>The boy shrank back:</p> + +<p>"You!—great God!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she came into my life at last—a sensuous young animal with wide, +bold eyes that knew everything and was not afraid. That sentence means the +shame from which I've guarded you with such infinite care——"</p> + +<p>He paused and pointed again to the letter, tracing its words:</p> + +<p>"'Rear our boy free from the curse!'—you—you—see why I have been so +desperately in earnest?"—Norton bent close with pleading eagerness: "And +that next sentence, there, you can read it? 'I had rather a thousand times +that he should die than this—My brooding spirit will watch and guard'"—he +paused and repeated—"'that he should die'—you—you—see that?"</p> + +<p>The boy looked at his father's trembling hand and into his glittering eyes +with a start:</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, but, of course, that was only a moment's despair—no mother +could mean such a thing."</p> + +<p>Norton's eyes fell, he moved uneasily, tried to speak again and was silent. +When he began his words were scarcely audible:</p> + +<p>"We must part now in tenderness, my boy, as father and son—we—we—must do +that you know. You—you forgive me for striking you to-night?"</p> + +<p>Tom turned away, struggled and finally answered:</p> + +<p>"No."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span></p> + +<p>The father followed eagerly:</p> + +<p>"Tell me that it's all right!"</p> + +<p>The boy's hand nervously fumbled at the cloth on the table:</p> + +<p>"I—I—am glad I didn't do something worse!"</p> + +<p>"Say that you forgive me! Why is it so hard?"</p> + +<p>Tom turned his back:</p> + +<p>"I don't know, Dad, I try, but—I—just can't!"</p> + +<p>The father's hand touched the boy's arm timidly:</p> + +<p>"You can never understand, my son, how my whole life has been bound up in +you! For years I've lived, worked, and dreamed and planned for you alone. +In your young manhood I've seen all I once hoped to be and have never been. +In your love I've found the healing of a broken heart. Many a night I've +gone out there alone in that old cemetery, knelt beside your mother's grave +and prayed her spirit to guide me that I might at least lead your little +feet aright——"</p> + +<p>The boy moved slightly and the father's hand slipped limply from his, he +staggered back with a cry of despair, and fell prostrate on the lounge:</p> + +<p>"I can endure anything on this earth but your hate, my boy! I can't endure +that—I can't—even for a moment!"</p> + +<p>His form shook with incontrollable grief as he lay with his face buried in +his outstretched arms.</p> + +<p>The boy struggled with conflicting pride and love, looked at the scrawled, +tear-stained letter he still held in his hand and then at the bowed figure, +hesitated a moment, and rushed to his father's side, knelt and slipped his +arm around the trembling figure:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's all right, Dad! I'll not remember—a single tear from your eyes blots +it all out!"</p> + +<p>The father's hand felt blindly for the boy's and grasped it desperately:</p> + +<p>"You won't remember a single harsh word that I've said?"</p> + +<p>"No—no—it's all right," was the soothing answer, as he returned the +pressure.</p> + +<p>Norton looked at him long and tenderly:</p> + +<p>"How you remind me of <i>her</i> to-night! The deep blue of your eyes, the +trembling of your lips when moved, your little tricks of speech, the tear +that quivers on your lash and never falls and the soul that's mirrored +there"—he paused and stroked the boy's head—"and her hair, the beaten +gold of honeycomb!"</p> + +<p>His head sank and he was silent.</p> + +<p>The boy again pressed his hand tenderly and rose, drawing his father to his +feet:</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry to have hurt you, Dad. I'm sorry that we have to go—good-by!"</p> + +<p>He turned and slowly moved toward the door. Norton slipped his right hand +quickly to the revolver, hesitated, his fingers relaxed and the deadly +thing dropped back into his pocket as he sank to his seat with a groan:</p> + +<p>"Wait! Wait, Tom!"</p> + +<p>The boy stopped.</p> + +<p>"I—I've got to tell it to you now!" he went on hoarsely. "I—I tried to +save you this horror—but I couldn't—the way was too hard and cruel."</p> + +<p>Tom took a step and looked up in surprise:</p> + +<p>"The way—what way?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I couldn't do it," the father cried. "I just couldn't—and so I have to +tell you."</p> + +<p>The boy spoke with sharp eagerness:</p> + +<p>"Tell me what?"</p> + +<p>"Now that I know you are married in all that word means and I have failed +to save you from it—I must give you the proofs that you demand. I must +prove to you that Helen <i>is</i> a negress——"</p> + +<p>A sudden terror crept into the young eyes:</p> + +<p>"You—you have the proofs?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" the father nodded, placing his hand on his throat and fighting for +breath. He took a step toward the boy, and whispered:</p> + +<p>"Cleo—is—her mother!"</p> + +<p>Tom flinched as if struck a blow. The red blood rushed to his head and he +blanched with a death-like pallor:</p> + +<p>"And you have been afraid of Cleo?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>The father's head was slowly lowered and his hands moved in the slightest +gesture of dumb confession.</p> + +<p>A half-articulate, maniac cry and the boy grasped him with trembling hands, +screaming in his face:</p> + +<p>"God in Heaven, let me keep my reason for just a +moment!—So—you—are—Helen's——"</p> + +<p>The bowed head sank lower.</p> + +<p>"Father!"</p> + +<p>Tom reeled, and fell into a chair with a groan:</p> + +<p>"Lord have mercy on my lost soul!"</p> + +<p>Norton solemnly lifted his eyes:</p> + +<p>"God's full vengeance has fallen at last! You have married your own——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span></p> + +<p>The boy sprang to his feet covering his face:</p> + +<p>"Don't! Don't! Helen doesn't know?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"She mustn't!" he shivered, looking wildly at his father. "But why, +why—oh, dear God, why didn't you kill me before I knew!"</p> + +<p>He sank back into the chair, his arms outstretched across the table, his +face hidden in voiceless shame.</p> + +<p>The father slowly approached the prostrate figure, bent low and tenderly +placed his cheek against the blonde head, soothing it with trembling touch. +For a long while he remained thus, with no sound breaking the stillness +save the sobs that came from the limp form.</p> + +<p>And then Norton said brokenly:</p> + +<p>"I tried, my boy, to end it for us both without your knowing just now when +your back was turned, but I couldn't. It seemed too cowardly and cruel! I +just couldn't"—he paused, slowly drew the revolver from his pocket and +laid it on the table.</p> + +<p>The boy felt the dull weight of the steel strike the velvet cover and knew +what had been done without lifting his head.</p> + +<p>"Now you know," the father added, "what we both must do."</p> + +<p>Tom rose staring at the thing on the dark red cloth, and lifted his eyes to +his father's.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and hurry! Helen may come at any moment."</p> + +<p>He had barely spoken when the knob of the door turned. A quick knock was +heard at the same instant and Helen's voice rang through the hall:</p> + +<p>"Tom! Tom!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span></p> + +<p>Norton grasped the pistol, thrust it under the table-cover and pressed the +boy toward the door:</p> + +<p>"Quick! Open it, at once!"</p> + +<p>Tom stared in a stupor, unable to move until his father shook his arm:</p> + +<p>"Quick—open it—let her in a moment—it's best."</p> + +<p>He opened the door and Helen sprang in breathlessly.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>THE MILLS OF GOD</h3> + + +<p>Norton had dropped into a seat with apparent carelessness, while Tom stood +immovable, his face a mask.</p> + +<p>The girl looked quickly from one to the other, her breath coming in quick +gasps.</p> + +<p>She turned to Tom:</p> + +<p>"Why did you lock the door—what does it mean?"</p> + +<p>Norton hastened to answer, his tones reassuringly simple:</p> + +<p>"Why, only that we wished to be alone for a few moments——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, we understand each other now," Tom added.</p> + +<p>Helen's eyes flashed cautiously from one to the other:</p> + +<p>"I heard a strange noise"—she turned to the boy—"and, oh, Tom, darling, I +was so frightened! I thought I heard a struggle and then everything became +so still. I was wild—I couldn't wait any longer!"</p> + +<p>"Why, it was really nothing," Tom answered her bravely smiling. "We—we did +have a little scene, and lost our temper for a moment, but you can see for +yourself it's all right now. We've thrashed the whole thing out and have +come to a perfect understanding!"</p> + +<p>His words were convincing but not his manner. He hadn't dared to look her +in the face. His eyes were on the rug and his foot moved nervously.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are not deceiving me?" she asked trembling.</p> + +<p>The boy appealed to his father:</p> + +<p>"Haven't we come to a perfect understanding, Dad?"</p> + +<p>Norton rose:</p> + +<p>"Perfect, my son. It's all right, now, Helen."</p> + +<p>"Just wait for me five minutes, dear," Tom pleaded.</p> + +<p>"Can't I hear what you have to say?"</p> + +<p>"We prefer to be alone," the father said gravely.</p> + +<p>Again her eyes flashed from one to the other and rested on Tom. She rushed +to him and laid her hand appealingly on his arm:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tom, dear, am I not your wife?" the boy's head drooped—"must you have +a secret from me now?"</p> + +<p>"Just a few minutes," Norton pleaded, "that's a good girl!"</p> + +<p>"Only a few minutes, Helen," Tom urged.</p> + +<p>"Please let me stay. Why were you both so pale when I came in?"</p> + +<p>Father and son glanced at each other over her head. Norton hesitated and +said:</p> + +<p>"You see we are perfectly calm now. All bitterness is gone from our hearts. +We are father and son again."</p> + +<p>"Why do you look so queerly at me? Why do you look so strangely at each +other?"</p> + +<p>"It's only your imagination, dear," Tom said.</p> + +<p>"No, there's something wrong," Helen declared desperately. "I feel it in +the air of this room—in the strange silence between you. For God's sake +tell me what it means! Surely, I have the right to know"—she turned +suddenly to Norton—"You don't hate me now, do you, major?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span></p> + +<p>The somber brown eyes rested on her in a moment of intense silence and he +slowly said:</p> + +<p>"I have never hated you, my child!"</p> + +<p>"Then what is it?" she cried in anguish, turning again to Tom. "Tell me +what I can do to help you! I'll obey you, dearest, even if it's to lay my +life down. Don't send me away. Don't keep this secret from me. I feel its +chill in my heart. My place is by your side—tell me how I can help you!"</p> + +<p>Tom looked at her intently:</p> + +<p>"You say that you will obey me?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—you are my lord and master!"</p> + +<p>He seized her hand and led her to the door</p> + +<p>"Then wait for me just five minutes."</p> + +<p>She lifted her head pleadingly:</p> + +<p>"You will let me come to you then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"You won't lock the door again?"</p> + +<p>"Not now."</p> + +<p>While Tom stood immovable, with a lingering look of tenderness she turned +and passed quickly from the room.</p> + +<p>He closed the door softly, steadied himself before loosing the knob and +turned to his father in a burst of sudden rebellion:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dad! It can't be true! It can't be true! I can't believe it. Did you +look at her closely again?"</p> + +<p>Norton drew himself wearily to his feet and spoke with despairing +certainty:</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, as I've looked at her a hundred times with growing wonder."</p> + +<p>"She's not like you——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No more than you, my boy, and yet you're bone of my bone and flesh of my +flesh—it can't be helped——"</p> + +<p>He paused and pointed to the revolver:</p> + +<p>"Give it to me!"</p> + +<p>The boy started to lift the cloth and the father caught his arm:</p> + +<p>"But first—before you do," he faltered. "I want you to tell me now with +your own lips that you forgive me for what I must do—and then I think, +perhaps, I can—say it!"</p> + +<p>Their eyes met in a long, tender, searching gaze:</p> + +<p>"I forgive you," he softly murmured.</p> + +<p>"Now give it to me!" the father firmly said, stepping back and lifting his +form erect.</p> + +<p>The boy felt for the table, fumbled at the cloth, caught the weapon and +slowly lifted it toward his father's extended hand. He opened his eyes, +caught the expression of agony in the drawn face, the fingers relaxed and +the pistol fell to the floor. He threw himself blindly on his father, his +arms about his neck:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dad, it's too hard! Wait—wait—just a moment!"</p> + +<p>The father held him close for a long while. His voice was very low when he +spoke at last:</p> + +<p>"There's no appeal, my boy! The sin of your father is full grown and has +brought forth death. Yet I was not all to blame. We are caught to-night in +the grip of the sins of centuries. I tried to give my life to the people to +save the children of the future. My shame showed me the way as few men +could have seen it, and I have set in motion forces that can never be +stopped. Others will complete the work that I have begun. But our time has +come——"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I understand!"</p> + +<p>The father's arms pressed the son in a last long embrace:</p> + +<p>"What an end to all my hopes! Oh, my boy, heart of my heart!"</p> + +<p>Tom's hand slowly slipped down and caught his father's:</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Dad!"</p> + +<p>Norton held the clasp with lingering tenderness as the boy slowly drew +away, measured four steps and calmly folded his arms, his head erect, his +broad young shoulders squared and thrown far back.</p> + +<p>Cleo, who had crept into the hall, stood behind the curtains of the inner +door watching the scene with blanched face.</p> + +<p>The father walked quickly to the revolver, picked it up, turned and lifted +it above his head.</p> + +<p>With a smothered cry Cleo sprang into the room—but she was too late. +Norton had quickly dropped the pistol to the level of the eye and fired.</p> + +<p>A tiny red spot flamed on the white skin of the boy's forehead, the +straight figure swayed, and pitched forward face down on the rug.</p> + +<p>The woman staggered back, cowering in the shadows.</p> + +<p>The father knelt beside the quivering form, clasped his left hand in Tom's, +placed the revolver to his temple and fired. The silver-gray head sank +slowly against the breast of the boy as a piercing scream from Helen's lips +rang through the silent hall.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>SIN FULL GROWN</h3> + + +<p>The sensitive soul of the girl had seen the tragedy before she rushed into +the library. At the first shot she sprang to her feet, her heart in her +throat. The report had sounded queerly through the closed doors and she was +not sure. She had entered the hall, holding her breath, when the second +shot rang out its message of death.</p> + +<p>She was not the woman who faints in an emergency. She paused just a moment +in the door, saw the ghastly heap on the floor and rushed to the spot.</p> + +<p>She tore Tom's collar open and placed her ear over his heart:</p> + +<p>"O God! He's alive—he's alive!"</p> + +<p>She turned and saw Cleo leaning against the table with blanched face and +chattering teeth.</p> + +<p>"Call Andy and Aunt Minerva—and go for the doctor—his heart's +beating—quick—the doctor—he's alive—we may save him!"</p> + +<p>She knelt again on the floor, took Tom's head in her lap, wiped the blood +from the clean, white forehead, pressed her lips to his and sobbed:</p> + +<p>"Come back, my own—it's I—Helen, your little wife—I'm calling you—you +can't die—you're too young and life's too dear. We've only begun to live, +my sweetheart! You shall not die!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tears were raining on his pale face and her cries had become little +wordless prayers when Andy and Minerva entered the room.</p> + +<p>She nodded her head toward Norton's motionless body:</p> + +<p>"Lift him on the lounge!"</p> + +<p>They moved him tenderly:</p> + +<p>"See if his heart's still beating," she commanded.</p> + +<p>Andy reverently lowered his dusky face against the white bosom of his +master. When he lifted it the tears had blinded his eyes:</p> + +<p>"Nobum," he said slowly, "he's done dead!"</p> + +<p>The tick of the little French clock on the mantel beneath the mother's +portrait rang with painful clearness.</p> + +<p>Helen raised her hand to Minerva:</p> + +<p>"Open the windows and let the smoke out. I'll hold him in my arms until the +doctor comes."</p> + +<p>"Yassum——"</p> + +<p>Minerva drew the heavy curtains back from the tall windows, opened the +casements and the perfumed air of the beautiful Southern night swept into +the room.</p> + +<p>A cannon boomed its final cry of victory from the Square and a rocket, +bursting above the tree-tops, flashed a ray of red light on the white face +of the dead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>CONFESSION</h3> + + +<p>When Dr. Williams entered the room Helen was still holding Tom's head in +her lap.</p> + +<p>He had stirred once with a low groan.</p> + +<p>"The major is dead, but Tom's alive, doctor!" she cried through her tears. +"He's going to live, too—I feel it—I know it—tell me that it's so!"</p> + +<p>The lips trembled pitifully with the last words.</p> + +<p>The doctor felt the pulse and was silent.</p> + +<p>"It's all right? He's going to live—isn't he?" she asked pathetically.</p> + +<p>"I can't tell yet, my child," was the calm answer.</p> + +<p>He examined the wound and ran his hand over the blonde hair. His fingers +stopped suddenly and he felt the head carefully. He bent low, parted the +hair and found a damp blood mark three inches above the line of the +forehead.</p> + +<p>"See!" he cried, "the ball came out here. His head was thrown far back, the +bullet struck the inner skull bone at an angle and glanced."</p> + +<p>"What does it mean?" she asked breathlessly.</p> + +<p>The doctor smiled:</p> + +<p>"That the brain is untouched. He is only stunned and in a swoon. He'll be +well in two weeks."</p> + +<p>Helen lifted her eyes and sobbed:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span></p> + +<p>"O God!"</p> + +<p>She tried to bend and kiss Tom's lips, her body swayed and she fell +backward in a dead faint.</p> + +<p>Andy and Minerva carried her to her room, left Cleo to minister to her and +returned to help the doctor.</p> + +<p>He examined Norton's body to make sure that life was extinct and placed the +body on an improvised bed on the floor until he should regain his senses.</p> + +<p>In half an hour Tom looked into the doctor's face:</p> + +<p>"Why, it's Doctor Williams?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What—what's happened?"</p> + +<p>"It's only a scratch for you, my boy. You'll be well in a few days——"</p> + +<p>"Well in a few days"—he repeated blankly. "I can't get well! I've got to +die"—his head dropped and he caught his breath.</p> + +<p>The doctor waited for him to recover himself to ask the question that was +on his lips. He had gotten as yet no explanation of the tragedy save Cleo's +statement that the major had shot Tom and killed himself. He had guessed +that the ugly secret in Norton's life was in some way responsible.</p> + +<p>"Why must you die, my boy?" he asked kindly.</p> + +<p>Tom opened his eyes in a wild stare:</p> + +<p>"Helen's my wife—we married secretly without my father knowing it. He has +just told me that Cleo is her mother and I have married my own——"</p> + +<p>His voice broke and his head sank.</p> + +<p>The doctor seized the boy's hand and spoke eagerly:</p> + +<p>"It's a lie, boy! It's a lie! Take my word for it——"</p> + +<p>Tom shook his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll stake my life on it that it's a lie"—the old man repeated—"and I'll +prove it—I'll prove it from Cleo's lips!"</p> + +<p>"You—you—can do it!" the boy said hopelessly, though his eyes flashed +with a new light.</p> + +<p>"Keep still until I return!" the doctor cried, "and I'll bring Cleo with +me."</p> + +<p>He placed the revolver in his pocket and hastily left the room, the boy's +eyes following him with feverish excitement.</p> + +<p>He called Cleo into the hall and closed Helen's door.</p> + +<p>The old man seized her hand with a cruel grip:</p> + +<p>"Do you dare tell me that this girl is your daughter?"</p> + +<p>She trembled and faltered:</p> + +<p>"Yes!"</p> + +<p>"You're a liar!" he hissed. "You may have fooled Norton for twenty years, +but you can't fool me. I've seen too much of this sort of thing. I'll stake +my immortal soul on it that no girl with Helen's pure white skin and +scarlet cheeks, clean-cut features and deep blue eyes can have in her body +a drop of negro blood!"</p> + +<p>"She's mine all the same, and you know when she was born," the woman +persisted.</p> + +<p>He could feel her body trembling, looked at her curiously and said:</p> + +<p>"Come down stairs with me a minute."</p> + +<p>Cleo drew back:</p> + +<p>"I don't want to go in that room again!"</p> + +<p>"You've got to come!"</p> + +<p>He seized her roughly and drew her down the stairs into the library.</p> + +<p>She gripped the door, panting in terror. He loosed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span> her hands and pushed +her inside before the lounge on which the body of Norton lay, the cold +wide-open eyes staring straight into her face.</p> + +<p>She looked a moment in abject horror, shivered and covered her eyes:</p> + +<p>"Oh, my God, let me go!"</p> + +<p>The doctor tore her hands from her face and confronted her. His snow-white +beard and hair, his tense figure and flaming anger seemed to the trembling +woman the image of an avenging fate as he solemnly cried:</p> + +<p>"Here, in the presence of Death, with the all-seeing eye of God as your +witness, and the life of the boy you once held in your arms hanging on your +words, I ask if that girl is your daughter?"</p> + +<p>The greenish eyes wavered, but the answer came clear at last:</p> + +<p>"No——"</p> + +<p>"I knew it!" the doctor cried. "Now the whole truth!"</p> + +<p>The color mounted Tom's cheeks as he listened.</p> + +<p>"My own baby died," she began falteringly, "I was wild with grief and +hunted for another. I found Helen in Norfolk at the house of an old woman +whom I knew, and she gave her to me——"</p> + +<p>"Or you stole her—no matter"—the doctor interrupted—"Go on."</p> + +<p>Helen had slipped down stairs, crept into the room unobserved and stood +listening.</p> + +<p>"Who was the child's mother?" the doctor demanded.</p> + +<p>Cleo was gasping for breath:</p> + +<p>"The daughter of an old fool who had disowned her because she ran away and +married a poor white boy—the husband died—the father never forgave her. +When<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> the baby was born the mother died, too, and I got the child from the +old nurse—she's pure white—there's not a stain of any kind on her birth!"</p> + +<p>With a cry of joy Helen knelt and drew Tom into her arms:</p> + +<p>"Oh, darling, did you hear it—oh, my sweetheart, did you hear it?"</p> + +<p>The boy's head sank on her breast and he breathed softly:</p> + +<p>"Thank God!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3>HEALING</h3> + + +<p>The years brought their healing to wounded hearts. Tom Norton refused to +leave his old home. He came of a breed of men who had never known how to +quit. He faced the world and with grim determination took up the work for +the Republic which his father had begun.</p> + +<p>With tireless voice his paper pleads for the purity of the race. Its +circulation steadily increases and its influence deepens and widens.</p> + +<p>The patter of a baby's feet again echoes through the wide hall behind the +white fluted columns. The young father and mother have taught his little +hands to place flowers on the two green mounds beneath the oak in the +cemetery. He is not old enough yet to understand, and so the last time they +were there he opened his eyes wide at his mother's tears and lisped:</p> + +<p>"Are 'oo hurt, mama?"</p> + +<p>"No, my dear, I'm happy now."</p> + +<p>"Why do 'oo cry?"</p> + +<p>"For a great man I knew a little while, loved and lost, dearest—your +grandfather for whom we named you."</p> + +<p>Little Dan's eyes grew very serious as he looked again at the flower-strewn +graves and wondered what it all meant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the thing which marks the Norton home with peculiar distinction is that +since the night of his father's death, Tom has never allowed a negro to +cross the threshold or enter its gates.</p> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>NOVELS OF SOUTHERN LIFE</h3> + +<h4>By THOMAS DIXON, JR.</h4> + +<h5>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list</h5> + + +<p><i>THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS</i>: A Story of the White Man's Burden, 1865-1900. With +illustrations by C. D. Williams.</p> + +<p>A tale of the South about the dramatic events of Destruction. +Reconstruction and Upbuilding. The work is able and eloquent and the +verifiable events of history are followed closely in the development of a +story full of struggle.</p> + + +<p><i>THE CLANSMAN.</i> With illustrations by Arthur I. Keller.</p> + +<p>While not connected with it in any way, this is a companion volume to the +author's "epoch-making" story <i>The Leopard's Spots</i>. It is a novel with a +great deal to it, and which very properly is going to interest many +thousands of readers. * * * It is, first of all, a forceful, dramatic, +absorbing love story, with a sequence of events so surprising that one is +prepared for the fact that much of it is founded on actual happenings; but +Mr. Dixon has, as before, a deeper purpose—he has aimed to show that the +original formers of the Ku Klux Klan were modern knights errant taking the +only means at hand to right intolerable wrongs.</p> + + +<p><i>THE TRAITOR.</i> A Story of the Fall of the Invisible Empire. Illustrations +by C. D. Williams.</p> + +<p>The third and last book in this remarkable trilogy of novels relating to +Southern Reconstruction. It is a thrilling story of love, adventure, +treason, and the United States Secret Service dealing with the decline and +fall of the Ku Klux Klan.</p> + + +<p><i>COMRADES.</i> Illustrations by C. D. Williams.</p> + +<p>A novel dealing with the establishment of a Socialistic Colony upon a +deserted island off the coast of California. The way of disillusionment is +the course over which Mr. Dixon conducts the reader.</p> + + +<p><i>THE ONE WOMAN.</i> A Story of Modern Utopia.</p> + +<p>A love story and character study of three strong men and two fascinating +women. In swift, unified, and dramatic action, we see Socialism a deadly +force, in the hour of the eclipse of Faith, destroying the home life and +weakening the fiber of Anglo Saxon manhood.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>STORIES OF WESTERN LIFE</h3> + +<p>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list</p> + + +<p><i>RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE</i>, By Zane Grey. Illustrated by Douglas Duer.</p> + +<p>In this picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago, we are +permitted to see the unscrupulous methods employed by the invisible hand of +the Mormon Church to break the will of those refusing to conform to its +rule.</p> + + +<p><i>FRIAR TUCK</i>, By Robert Alexander Wason. Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood.</p> + +<p>Happy Hawkins tells us, in his humorous way, how Friar Tuck lived among the +Cowboys, how he adjusted their quarrels and love affairs and how he fought +with them and for them when occasion required.</p> + + +<p><i>THE SKY PILOT</i>, By Ralph Connor. Illustrated by Louis Rhead.</p> + +<p>There is no novel, dealing with the rough existence of cowboys, so charming +in the telling, abounding as it does with the freshest and the truest +pathos.</p> + + +<p><i>THE EMIGRANT TRAIL</i>, By Geraldine Bonner. Colored frontispiece by John +Rae.</p> + +<p>The book relates the adventures of a party on its overland pilgrimage, and +the birth and growth of the absorbing love of two strong men for a charming +heroine.</p> + + +<p><i>THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER</i>, By A. M. Chisholm. Illustrated by Frank Tenney +Johnson.</p> + +<p>This is a strong, virile novel with the lumber industry for its central +theme and a love story full of interest as a sort of subplot.</p> + + +<p><i>A PRAIRIE COURTSHIP</i>, By Harold Bindloss.</p> + +<p>A story of Canadian prairies in which the hero is stirred, through the +influence of his love for a woman, to settle down to the heroic business of +pioneer farming.</p> + + +<p><i>JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS</i>, By Harriet T. Comstock. Illustrated by John +Cassel.</p> + +<p>A story of the deep woods that shows the power of love at work among its +primitive dwellers. It is a tensely moving study of the human heart and its +aspirations that unfolds itself through thrilling situations and dramatic +developments.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>JOHN FOX, JR'S.</h3> + +<h4>STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS</h4> + +<h5>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list</h5> + + +<p><i>THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.</i> Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 155px;"> +<img src="images/ad01.jpg" width="155" height="200" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree +that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine +lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he +finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the +<i>footprints of a girl</i>. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and the +trail of these girlish footprints led the young engineer a madder chase +than "the trail of the lonesome pine."</p> + + +<p><i>THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME.</i> Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<p>This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come." It is +a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often +springs the flower of civilization.</p> + +<p>"Chad" the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he came—he +had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, seeking shelter +with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and mothered this waif about +whom there was such a mystery—a charming waif, by the way, who could play +the banjo better that anyone else in the mountains.</p> + + +<p><i>A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.</i> Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.</p> + +<p>The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland the lair of +moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the heroine +a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two impetuous young +Southerners' fall under the spell of "The Blight's" charms and she learns +what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the +mountaineers.</p> + +<p>Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some of +Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS</h3> + +<h5>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list</h5> + + +<p><i>LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.</i></p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 146px;"> +<img src="images/ad02.jpg" width="146" height="200" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>A charming story of a quaint corner of New England where bygone romance +finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the +young people on the staff of a newspaper—and it is one of the prettiest, +sweetest and quaintest of old fashioned love stories, * * * a rare book, +exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy, of tenderness, +of delightful humor and spontaniety.</p> + + +<p><i>A SPINNER IN THE SUN.</i></p> + +<p>Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story in which +poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a clever and +entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she always displays a +quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of pathos which give a touch +of active realism to all her writings. In "A Spinner in the Sun" she tells +an old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and +whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the +heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance.</p> + + +<p><i>THE MASTER'S VIOLIN,</i></p> + +<p>A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso is +the reverent possessor of a genuine "Cremona." He consents to take for his +pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for technique, but +not the soul of an artist. The youth has led the happy, careless life of a +modern, well-to-do young American and he cannot, with his meagre past, +express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life and all its happy +phases as can the master who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl +comes into his life—a beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had +taken into her heart and home, and through his passionate love for her, he +learns the lessons that life has to give—and his soul awakes.</p> + +<p>Founded on a fact that all artists realize.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3>LOUIS TRACY'S</h3> + +<h4>CAPTIVATING AND EXHILARATING ROMANCES</h4> + +<h5>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list</h5> + + +<p><i>CYNTHIA'S CHAUFFEUR.</i> Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> + +<p>A pretty American girl in London is touring in a car with a chauffeur whose +identity puzzles her. An amusing mystery.</p> + + +<p><i>THE STOWAWAY GIRL.</i> Illustrated by Nesbitt Benson.</p> + +<p>A shipwreck, a lovely girl stowaway, a rascally captain, a fascinating +officer, and thrilling adventures in South Seas.</p> + + +<p><i>THE CAPTAIN OF THE KANSAS.</i></p> + +<p>Love and the salt sea, a helpless ship whirled into the hands of cannibals, +desperate fighting and a tender romance.</p> + + +<p><i>THE MESSAGE.</i> Illustrated by Joseph Cummings Chase.</p> + +<p>A bit of parchment found in the figurehead of an old vessel tells of a +buried treasure. A thrilling mystery develops.</p> + + +<p><i>THE PILLAR OF LIGHT.</i></p> + +<p>The pillar thus designated was a lighthouse, and the author tells with +exciting detail the terrible dilemma of its cut off inhabitants.</p> + + +<p><i>THE WHEEL O'FORTUNE.</i> With illustrations by James Montgomery Flagg.</p> + +<p>The story deals with the finding of a papyrus containing the particulars of +some of the treasures of the Queen of Sheba.</p> + + +<p><i>A SON OF THE IMMORTALS.</i> Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.</p> + +<p>A young American is proclaimed king of a little Balkan Kingdom, and a +pretty Parisian art student is the power behind the throne.</p> + +<p><i>THE WINGS OF THE MORNING.</i></p> + +<p>A sort of Robinson Crusoe <i>redivivus</i> with modern settings and a very +pretty love story added. The hero and heroine, are the only survivors of a +wreck, and have many thrilling adventures on their desert island.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>THE NOVELS OF</h4> + +<h3>STEWART EDWARD WHITE</h3> + + +<p><i>THE RULES OF THE GAME.</i> Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller.</p> + +<p>The romance of the son of "The Riverman." The young college hero goes into +the lumber camp, is antagonized by "graft" and comes into the romance of +his life.</p> + + +<p><i>ARIZONA NIGHTS.</i> Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth.</p> + +<p>A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life of the +ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece.</p> + + +<p><i>THE BLAZED TRAIL.</i> With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty.</p> + +<p>A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young man who blazed +his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan pines.</p> + + +<p><i>THE CLAIM JUMPERS.</i> A Romance.</p> + +<p>The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the Black Hills has +a hard time of it, but "wins out" in more ways than one.</p> + + +<p><i>CONJUROR'S HOUSE.</i> Illustrated Theatrical Edition.</p> + +<p>Dramatized under the title of "The Call of the North."</p> + +<p>Conjuror's House is a Hudson Bay trading post where the head factor is the +absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and won a bride on this +forbidden land.</p> + + +<p><i>THE MAGIC FOREST.</i> A Modern Fairy Tale. Illustrated.</p> + +<p>The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and their life is +treated could only belong to one who is in love with the forest and open +air. Based on fact.</p> + + +<p><i>THE RIVERMAN.</i> Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood.</p> + +<p>The story of a man's fight against a river and of a struggle between +honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and shrewdness on the +other.</p> + + +<p><i>THE SILENT PLACES.</i> Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin.</p> + +<p>The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine devotion, and +masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian and the instinct of the +Indian, are all finely drawn in this story.</p> + + +<p><i>THE WESTERNERS.</i></p> + +<p>A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the best American +novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no other book has done in +recent years.</p> + + +<p><i>THE MYSTERY.</i> In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams.</p> + +<p>With illustrations by Will Crawford.</p> + +<p>The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout ship "Laughing +Lass" in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. In the solution, +there is a story of the most exciting voyage that man ever undertook.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h4>TITLES SELECTED FROM</h4> + +<h3>GROSSET & DUNLAP'S LIST</h3> + +<h5>May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list</h5> + + +<p><i>THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS.</i> By Meredith Nicholson. Illustrated by C. +Coles Phillips and Reginald Birch.</p> + +<p>Seven suitors vie with each other for the love of a beautiful girl, and she +subjects them to a test that is full of mystery, magic and sheer amusement.</p> + + +<p><i>THE MAGNET.</i> By Henry C. Rowland. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.</p> + +<p>The story of a remarkable courtship involving three pretty girls on a +yacht, a poet-lover in pursuit, and a mix-up in the names of the girls.</p> + + +<p><i>THE TURN OF THE ROAD.</i> By Eugenia Brooks Frothingham.</p> + +<p>A beautiful young opera singer chooses professional success instead of +love, but comes to a place in life where the call of the heart is stronger +than worldly success.</p> + + +<p><i>SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY.</i> By Margaret Morse. Illustrated by Harold M. Brett.</p> + +<p>A young girl whose affections have been blighted is presented with a Scotch +Collie to divert her mind, and the roving adventures of her pet lead the +young mistress into another romance.</p> + + +<p><i>SHEILA VEDDER.</i> By Amelia E. Barr. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher.</p> + +<p>A very beautiful romance of the Shetland Islands, with a handsome, strong +willed hero and a lovely girl of Gaelic blood as heroine. A sequel to "Jan +Vedder's Wife."</p> + + +<p><i>JOHN WARD, PREACHER.</i> By Margaret Deland.</p> + +<p>The first big success of this much loved American novelist. It is a +powerful portrayal of a young clergyman's attempt to win his beautiful wife +to his own narrow creed.</p> + + +<p><i>THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT.</i> By Robert W. Service. Illustrated by Maynard +Dixon.</p> + +<p>One of the best stories of "Vagabondia" ever written, and one of the most +accurate and picturesque of the stampede of gold seekers to the Yukon. The +love story embedded in the narrative is strikingly original.</p> + + +<p><i>THE SECOND WIFE.</i> By Thompson Buchanan. Illustrated by W. W. Fawcett. +Harrison Fisher wrapper printed in four colors and gold.</p> + +<p>An intensely interesting story of a marital complication in a wealthy New +York family involving the happiness of a beautiful young girl.</p> + + +<p><i>TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY.</i> By Grace Miller White. Illustrated by Howard +Chandler Christy.</p> + +<p>An amazingly vivid picture of low class life in a New York college town, +with a heroine beautiful and noble, who makes a great sacrifice for love.</p> + + +<p><i>FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING.</i> By Grace Miller White.</p> + +<p>Frontispiece and wrapper in colors by Penthyn Stanlaws.</p> + +<p>Another story of "the storm country." Two beautiful children are kidnapped +from a wealthy home and appear many years after showing the effects of a +deep, malicious scheme behind their disappearance.</p> + + +<p><i>THE LIGHTED MATCH.</i> By Charles Neville Buck. Illustrated by R. F. +Schabelitz.</p> + +<p>A lovely princess travels incognito through the States and falls in love +with an American man. There are ties that bind her to someone in her own +home, and the great plot revolves round her efforts to work her way out.</p> + + +<p><i>MAUD BAXTER.</i> By C. C. Hotchkiss. Illustrated by Will Grefe.</p> + +<p>A romance both daring and delightful, involving an American girl and a +young man who had been impressed into English service during the +Revolution.</p> + + +<p><i>THE HIGHWAYMAN.</i> By Guy Rawlence. Illustrated by Will Grefe.</p> + +<p>A French beauty of mysterious antecedents wins the love of an Englishman of +title. Developments of a startling character and a clever untangling of +affairs hold the reader's interest.</p> + + +<p><i>THE PURPLE STOCKINGS.</i> By Edward Salisbury Field. Illustrated in colors; +marginal illustrations.</p> + +<p>A young New York business man, his pretty sweetheart, his sentimental +stenographer, and his fashionable sister are all mixed up in a +misunderstanding that surpasses anything in the way of comedy in years. A +story with a laugh on every page.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +<i>Ask for complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction</i><br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West</span> 26th <span class="smcap">St., New York</span><br /> +</p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SINS OF THE FATHER***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 36666-h.txt or 36666-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/6/6/6/36666">http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/6/6/36666</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Sins of the Father + A Romance of the South + + +Author: Thomas Dixon + + + +Release Date: July 8, 2011 [eBook #36666] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SINS OF THE FATHER*** + + +E-text prepared by David Edwards, Josephine Paolucci, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images +generously made available by Internet Archive (http://www.archive.org) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 36664-h.htm or 36664-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36664/36664-h/36664-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/36664/36664-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + http://www.archive.org/details/sinsoffatherroma00dixo + + + + + +THE SINS OF THE FATHER + + +[Illustration: "She blushed scarlet, took the rosebud from her bosom and +pinned it on his coat." + +[Page 246]] + + +THE SINS OF THE FATHER + +A Romance of the South + +by + +THOMAS DIXON + +Author of +The Leopard's Spots, The Clansman, +Comrades, The Root of Evil, etc. + +Illustrated by John Cassel + + + + + + + +Grosset & Dunlap +Publishers :: :: New York + +Copyright, 1912, by +Thomas Dixon + +All rights reserved, including that of translation into +foreign languages, including the Scandinavian. + +Published March, 1913. + +Printed in the United States of America. + + + + +TO +THE MEMORY OF + +RANDOLPH SHOTWELL + +OF NORTH CAROLINA + +SOLDIER, EDITOR, CLANSMAN +PATRIOT + + + + +TO THE READER + + +_I wish it understood that I have not used in this novel the private life +of Captain Randolph Shotwell, to whom this book is dedicated. I have drawn +the character of my central figure from the authentic personal history of +Major Daniel Norton himself, a distinguished citizen of the far South, with +whom I was intimately acquainted for many years._ + + THOMAS DIXON. + + NEW YORK + MARCH 8, 1912 + + + + +CONTENTS + + +BOOK I--SIN + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I. THE WOMAN IN YELLOW 3 +II. CLEO ENTERS 26 +III. A BEAST AWAKES 39 +IV. THE ARREST 46 +V. THE RESCUE 58 +VI. A TRAITOR'S RUSE 71 +VII. THE IRONY OF FATE 78 +VIII. A NEW WEAPON 85 +IX. THE WORDS THAT COST 93 +X. MAN TO MAN 98 +XI. THE UNBIDDEN GUEST 109 +XII. THE JUDGMENT BAR 116 +XIII. AN OLD STORY 130 +XIV. THE FIGHT FOR LIFE 139 +XV. CLEO'S SILENCE 142 +XVI. THE LARGER VISION 145 +XVII. THE OPAL GATES 158 +XVIII. QUESTIONS 163 +XIX. CLEO'S CRY 171 +XX. THE BLOW FALLS 174 +XXI. THE CALL OF THE BLOOD 182 + + +BOOK II--ATONEMENT + +I. THE NEW LIFE PURPOSE 195 +II. A MODERN SCALAWAG 199 +III. HIS HOUSE IN ORDER 211 +IV. THE MAN OF THE HOUR 217 +V. A WOMAN SCORNED 222 +VI. AN OLD COMEDY 235 +VII. TRAPPED 247 +VIII. BEHIND THE BARS 259 +IX. ANDY'S DILEMMA 262 +X. THE BEST LAID PLANS 278 +XI. A RECONNOITRE 284 +XII. THE FIRST WHISPER 294 +XIII. ANDY'S PROPOSAL 299 +XIV. THE FOLLY OF PITY 307 +XV. A DISCOVERY 319 +XVI. THE CHALLENGE 329 +XVII. A SKIRMISH 335 +XVIII. LOVE LAUGHS 340 +XIX. "FIGHT IT OUT!" 346 +XX. ANDY FIGHTS 355 +XXI. THE SECOND BLOW 365 +XXII. THE TEST OF LOVE 372 +XXIII. THE PARTING 388 +XXIV. FATHER AND SON 399 +XXV. THE ONE CHANCE 414 +XXVI. BETWEEN TWO FIRES 420 +XXVII. A SURPRISE 423 +XXVIII. VIA DOLOROSA 428 +XXIX. THE DREGS IN THE CUP 438 +XXX. THE MILLS OF GOD 449 +XXXI. SIN FULL GROWN 454 +XXXII. CONFESSION 456 +XXXIII. HEALING 461 + + + + +THE SINS OF THE FATHER + +_Book One--Sin_ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE WOMAN IN YELLOW + + +The young editor of _The Daily Eagle and Phoenix_ straightened his tall +figure from the pile of papers that smothered his desk, glanced at his +foreman who stood waiting, and spoke in the quiet drawl he always used when +excited: + +"Just a moment--'til I read this over----" + +The foreman nodded. + +He scanned the scrawled pencil manuscript twice and handed it up without +changing a letter: + +"Set the title in heavy black-faced caps--_black_--the blackest you've +got." + +He read the title over again musingly, his strong mouth closing with a snap +at its finish: + + THE BLACK LEAGUE AND THE KU KLUX KLAN + DOWN WITH ALL SECRET SOCIETIES + +The foreman took the manuscript with a laugh: + +"You've certainly got 'em guessing, major----" + +"Who?" + +"Everybody. We've all been thinking until these editorials began that you +were a leader of the Klan." + +A smile played about the corners of the deep-set brown eyes as he swung +carelessly back to his desk and waved the printer to his task with a +friendly sweep of his long arm: + +"Let 'em think again!" + +A shout in the Court House Square across the narrow street caused him to +lift his head with a frown: + +"Salesday--of course--the first Monday--doomsday for the conquered +South--God, the horror of it all!" + +He laid his pencil down, walked to the window and looked out on the crowd +of slouching loafers as they gathered around the auctioneer's block. The +negroes outnumbered the whites two to one. + +A greasy, loud-mouthed negro, as black as ink, was the auctioneer. + +"Well, gemmen an' feller citizens," he began pompously, "de fust piece er +property I got ter sell hain't no property 'tall--hit's dese po' folks fum +de County Po' House. Fetch 'em up agin de wall so de bidders can see +'em----" + +He paused and a black court attendant led out and placed in line against +the weatherbeaten walls fifty or sixty inmates of the County Poor +House--all of them white men and women. Most of them were over seventy +years old, and one with the quickest step and brightest eye, a little man +of eighty-four with snow-white hair and beard, was the son of a hero of the +American Revolution. The women were bareheaded and the blazing Southern sun +of August beat down piteously on their pinched faces. + +The young editor's fists slowly clinched and his breath came in a deep +quivering draught. He watched as in a trance. He had seen four years' +service in the bloodiest war in history--seen thousands swept into +eternity from a single battlefield without a tear. He had witnessed the +sufferings of the wounded and dying until it became the routine of a day's +work. Yet no event of all that fierce and terrible struggle had stirred his +soul as the scene he was now witnessing--not even the tragic end of his +father, the editor of the _Daily Eagle_--who had been burned to death in +the building when Sherman's army swept the land with fire and sword. The +younger man had never referred to this except in a brief, hopeful editorial +in the newly christened _Eagle and Phoenix_, which he literally built on +the ashes of the old paper. He had no unkind word for General Sherman or +his army. It was war, and a soldier knew what that meant. He would have +done the same thing under similar conditions. + +Now he was brushing a tear from his cheek. A reporter at work in the +adjoining room watched him curiously. He had never before thought him +capable of such an emotion. A brilliant and powerful editor, he had made +his paper the one authoritative organ of the white race. In the midst of +riot, revolution and counter revolution his voice had the clear ring of a +bugle call to battle. There was never a note of hesitation, of uncertainty +or of compromise. In the fierce white heat of an unconquered spirit, he had +fused the souls of his people as one. At this moment he was the one man +hated and feared most by the negroid government in power, the one man most +admired and trusted by the white race. + +And he was young--very young--yet he had lived a life so packed with tragic +events no one ever guessed his real age, twenty-four. People took him to be +more than thirty and the few threads of gray about his temples, added to +the impression of age and dignity. He was not handsome in the conventional +sense. His figure was too tall, his cheek bones too high, the nostrils too +large and his eyebrows too heavy. His great height, six feet three, +invariably made him appear gaunt and serious. Though he had served the +entire four years in the Confederate army, entering a private in the ranks +at eighteen, emerging a major in command of a shattered regiment at +twenty-two, his figure did not convey the impression of military training. +He walked easily, with the long, loose stride of the Southener, his +shoulders slightly stooped from the habit of incessant reading. + +He was lifting his broad shoulders now in an ominous way as he folded his +clenched fists behind his back and listened to the negro auctioneer. + +"Come now, gemmens," he went on; "what's de lowes' offer ye gwine ter start +me fer dese folks? 'Member, now, de lowes' bid gets 'em, not de highes'! +'Fore de war de black man wuz put on de block an' sole ter de _highes'_ +bidder! Times is changed----" + +"Yas, Lawd!" shouted a negro woman. + +"Times is changed, I tells ye!--now I gwine ter sell dese po' white folks +ter de lowes' bidder. Whosomever'll take de Po' House and bode 'em fer de +least money gits de whole bunch. An' you has de right ter make 'em all work +de Po' farm. Dey kin work, too, an' don' ye fergit it. Dese here ones I +fotch out here ter show ye is all soun' in wind and limb. De bedridden ones +ain't here. Dey ain't but six er dem. What's de lowes' bid now, gemmens, +yer gwine ter gimme ter bode 'em by de month? Look 'em all over, gemmens, I +warrants 'em ter be sound in wind an' limb. Sound in wind an' limb." + +The auctioneer's sonorous voice lingered on this phrase and repeated it +again and again. + +The watcher at the window turned away in disgust, walked back to his desk, +sat down, fidgeted in his seat, rose and returned to the window in time to +hear the cry: + +"An' sold to Mister Abum Russ fer fo' dollars a month!" + +Could it be possible that he heard aright? Abe Russ the keeper to the +poor!--a drunkard, wife beater, and midnight prowler. His father before +him, "Devil Tom Russ," had been a notorious character, yet he had at least +one redeeming quality that saved him from contempt--a keen sense of humor. +He had made his living on a ten-acre red hill farm and never used a horse +or an ox. He hitched himself to the plow and made Abe seize the handles. +This strange team worked the fields. No matter how hard the day's task the +elder Russ never quite lost his humorous view of life. When the boy, tired +and thirsty, would stop and go to the spring for water, a favorite trick of +his was to place a piece of paper or a chunk of wood in the furrow a few +yards ahead. When the boy returned and they approached this object, the old +man would stop, lift his head and snort, back and fill, frisk and caper, +plunge and kick, and finally break and run, tearing over the fields like a +maniac, dragging the plow after him with the breathless boy clinging to the +handles. He would then quietly unhitch himself and thrash Abe within an +inch of his life for being so careless as to allow a horse to run away with +him. + +But Abe grew up without a trace of his father's sense of humor, picked out +the strongest girl he could find for a wife and hitched her to the plow! +And he permitted no pranks to enliven the tedium of work except the +amusement he allowed himself of beating her at mealtimes after she had +cooked his food. + +He had now turned politician, joined the Loyal Black League and was the +successful bidder for Keeper of the Poor. It was incredible! + +The watcher was roused from his painful reverie by a reporter's voice: + +"I think there's a man waiting in the hall to see you, sir." + +"Who is it?" + +The reporter smiled: + +"Mr. Bob Peeler." + +"What on earth can that old scoundrel want with me? All right--show him +in." + +The editor was busy writing when Mr. Peeler entered the room furtively. He +was coarse, heavy and fifty years old. His red hair hung in tangled locks +below his ears and a bloated double chin lapped his collar. His legs were +slightly bowed from his favorite mode of travel on horseback astride a huge +stallion trapped with tin and brass bespangled saddle. His supposed +business was farming and the raising of blooded horses. As a matter of +fact, the farm was in the hands of tenants and gambling was his real work. + +Of late he had been displaying a hankering for negro politics. A few weeks +before he had created a sensation by applying to the clerk of the court for +a license to marry his mulatto housekeeper. It was common report that this +woman was the mother of a beautiful octoroon daughter with hair exactly the +color of old Peeler's. Few people had seen her. She had been away at +school since her tenth year. + +The young editor suddenly wheeled in his chair and spoke with quick +emphasis: + +"Mr. Peeler, I believe?" + +The visitor's face lighted with a maudlin attempt at politeness: + +"Yes, sir; yes, sir!--and I'm shore glad to meet you, Major Norton!" + +He came forward briskly, extending his fat mottled hand. + +Norton quietly ignored the offer by placing a chair beside his desk: + +"Have a seat, Mr. Peeler." + +The heavy figure flopped into the chair: + +"I want to ask your advice, major, about a little secret matter"--he +glanced toward the door leading into the reporters' room. + +The editor rose, closed the door and resumed his seat: + +"Well, sir; how can I serve you?" + +The visitor fumbled in his coat pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of +paper which he fingered gingerly: + +"I've been readin' your editorials agin' secret societies, major, and I +like 'em--that's why I made up my mind to put my trust in you----" + +"Why, I thought you were a member of the Loyal Black League, Mr. Peeler?" + +"No, sir--it's a mistake, sir," was the smooth lying answer. "I hain't got +nothin' to do with no secret society. I hate 'em all--just run your eye +over that, major." + +He extended the crumpled piece of paper on which was scrawled in boyish +writing: + + "We hear you want to marry a nigger. Our advice is to leave + this country for the more congenial climate of Africa. + + "By order of the Grand Cyclops, KU KLUX KLAN." + +The young editor studied the scrawl in surprise: + +"A silly prank of schoolboys!" he said at length. + +"You think that's all?" Peeler asked dubiously. + +"Certainly. The Ku Klux Klan have more important tasks on hand just now. No +man in their authority sent that to you. Their orders are sealed in red ink +with a crossbones and skull. I've seen several of them. Pay no attention to +this--it's a fake." + +"I don't think so, major--just wait a minute, I'll show you something worse +than a red-ink crossbones and skull." + +Old Peeler tipped to the door leading into the hallway, opened it, peered +out and waved his fat hand, beckoning someone to enter. + +The voice of a woman was heard outside protesting: + +"No--no--I'll stay here----" + +Peeler caught her by the arm and drew her within: + +"This is Lucy, my housekeeper, major." + +The editor looked in surprise at the slender, graceful figure of the +mulatto. He had pictured her coarse and heavy. He saw instead a face of the +clean-cut Aryan type with scarcely a trace of negroid character. Only the +thick curling hair, shining black eyes and deep yellow skin betrayed the +African mother. + +Peeler's eyes were fixed in a tense stare on a small bundle she carried. +His voice was a queer muffled tremor as he slowly said: + +"Unwrap the thing and show it to him." + +The woman looked at the editor and smiled contemptuously, showing two rows +of perfect teeth, as she slowly drew the brown wrapper from a strange +object which she placed on the desk. + +The editor picked the thing up, looked at it and laughed. + +It was a tiny pine coffin about six inches long and two inches wide. A +piece of glass was fitted into the upper half of the lid and beneath the +glass was placed a single tube rose whose peculiar penetrating odor already +filled the room. + +Peeler mopped the perspiration from his brow. + +"Now, what do you think of that?" he asked in an awed whisper. + +In spite of an effort at self-control, Norton broke into a peal of +laughter: + +"It does look serious, doesn't it?" + +"Serious ain't no word for it, sir! It not only looks like death, but I'm +damned if it don't smell like it--smell it!" + +"So it does," the editor agreed, lifting the box and breathing the perfume +of the pale little flower. + +"And that ain't all," Peeler whispered, "look inside of it." + +He opened the lid and drew out a tightly folded scrap of paper on which was +written in pencil the words: + + "You lying, hypocritical, blaspheming old scoundrel--unless + you leave the country within forty-eight hours, this coffin + will be large enough to hold all we'll leave of you. + + K. K. K." + +The editor frowned and then smiled. + +"All a joke, Peeler," he said reassuringly. + +But Peeler was not convinced. He leaned close and his whiskey-laden breath +seemed to fill the room as his fat finger rested on the word "blaspheming:" + +"I don't like that word, major; it sounds like a preacher had something to +do with the writin' of it. You know I've been a tough customer in my day +and I used to cuss the preachers in this county somethin' frightful. Now, +ye see, if they should be in this Ku Klux Klan--I ain't er skeered er their +hell hereafter, but they sho' might give me a taste in this world of what +they think's comin' to me in the next. I tell you that thing makes the cold +chills run down my back. Now, major, I reckon you're about the +level-headest and the most influential man in the county--the question is, +what shall I do to be saved?" + +Again Norton laughed: + +"Nothing. It's a joke, I tell you----" + +"But the Ku Klux Klan ain't no joke!" persisted Peeler. "More than a +thousand of 'em--some say five thousand--paraded the county two weeks ago. +A hundred of 'em passed my house. I saw their white shrouds glisten in the +moonlight. I said my prayers that night! I says to myself, if it don't do +no good, at least it can't do no harm. I tell you, the Klan's no joke. If +you think so, take a walk through that crowd in the Square to-day and see +how quiet they are. Last court day every nigger that could holler was +makin' a speech yellin' that old Thad Stevens was goin' to hang Andy +Johnson, the President, from the White House porch, take every foot of land +from the rebels and give it to the Loyal Black League. Now, by gum, there's +a strange peace in Israel! I felt it this mornin' as I walked through them +crowds--and comin' back to this coffin, major, the question is--what shall +I do to be saved?" + +"Go home and forget about it," was the smiling answer. "The Klan didn't +send that thing to you or write that message." + +"You think not?" + +"I know they didn't. It's a forgery. A trick of some devilish boys." + +Peeler scratched his red head: + +"I'm glad you think so, major. I'm a thousand times obliged to you, sir. +I'll sleep better to-night after this talk." + +"Would you mind leaving this little gift with me, Peeler?" Norton asked, +examining the neat workmanship of the coffin. + +"Certainly--certainly, major, keep it. Keep it and more than welcome! It's +a gift I don't crave, sir. I'll feel better to know you've got it." + +The yellow woman waited beside the door until Peeler had passed out, bowed +her thanks, turned and followed her master at a respectful distance. + +The editor watched them cross the street with a look of loathing, muttering +slowly beneath his breath: + +"Oh, my country, what a problem--what a problem!" + +He turned again to his desk and forgot his burden in the joy of work. He +loved this work. It called for the best that's in the strongest man. It was +a man's work for men. When he struck a blow he saw the dent of his hammer +on the iron, and heard it ring to the limits of the state. + +Dimly aware that some one had entered his room unannounced, he looked up, +sprang to his feet and extended his hand in hearty greeting to a stalwart +farmer who stood smiling into his face: + +"Hello, MacArthur!" + +"Hello, my captain! You know you weren't a major long enough for me to get +used to it--and it sounds too old for you anyhow----" + +"And how's the best sergeant that ever walloped a recruit?" + +"Bully," was the hearty answer. + +The young editor drew his old comrade in arms down into his chair and sat +on the table facing him: + +"And how's the wife and kids, Mac?" + +"Bully," he repeated evenly and then looked up with a puzzled expression. + +"Look here, Bud," he began quietly, "you've got me up a tree. These +editorials in _The Eagle and Phoenix_ cussin' the Klan----" + +"You don't like them?" + +"Not a little wee bit!" + +The editor smiled: + +"You've got Scotch blood in you, Mac--that's what's the matter with +you----" + +"Same to you, sir." + +"But my great-great-grandmother was a Huguenot and the French, you know, +had a saving sense of humor. The Scotch are thick, Mac!" + +"Well, I'm too thick to know what you mean by lambastin' our only +salvation. The Ku Klux Klan have had just one parade--and there hasn't been +a barn burnt in this county or a white woman scared since, and every nigger +I've met to-day has taken off his hat----" + +"Are you a member of the Klan, Mac?" The question was asked with his face +turned away. + +The farmer hesitated, looked up at the ceiling and quietly answered: + +"None of your business--and that's neither here nor there--you know that +every nigger is organized in that secret Black League, grinning and +whispering its signs and passwords--you know that they've already begun to +grip the throats of our women. The Klan's the only way to save this country +from hell--what do you mean by jumpin' on it?" + +"The Black League's a bad thing, Mac, and the Klan's a bad thing----" + +"All right--still you've got to fight the devil with fire----" + +"You don't say so?" the editor said, while a queer smile played around his +serious mouth. + +"Yes, by golly, I do say so," the farmer went on with increasing warmth, +"and what I can't understand is how you're against 'em. You're a leader. +You're a soldier--the bravest that ever led his men into the jaws of +death--I know, for I've been with you--and I just come down here to-day to +ask you the plain question, what do you mean?" + +"The Klan _is_ a band of lawless night raiders, isn't it?" + +"Oh, you make me tired! What are we to do without 'em, that's the +question?" + +"Scotch! That's the trouble with you"--the young editor answered +carelessly. "Have you a pin?" + +The rugged figure suddenly straightened as though a bolt of lightning had +shot down his spine. + +"What's--what's that?" he gasped. + +"I merely asked, have you a pin?" was the even answer, as Norton touched +the right lapel of his coat with his right hand. + +The farmer hesitated a moment, and then slowly ran three trembling fingers +of his left hand over the left lapel of his coat, replying: + +"I'm afraid not." + +He looked at Norton a moment and turned pale. He had been given and had +returned the signs of the Klan. It might have been an accident. The rugged +face was a study of eager intensity as he put his friend to the test that +would tell. He slowly thrust the fingers of his right hand into the right +pocket of his trousers, the thumb protruding. + +Norton quietly answered in the same way with his left hand. + +The farmer looked into the smiling brown eyes of his commander for a moment +and his own filled with tears. He sprang forward and grasped the +outstretched hand: + +"Dan Norton! I said last night to my God that you couldn't be against us! +And so I came to ask--oh, why--why've you been foolin' with me?" + +The editor tenderly slipped his arm around his old comrade and whispered: + +"The cunning of the fox and the courage of the lion now, Mac! It was easy +for our boys to die in battle while guns were thundering, fifes screaming, +drums beating and the banners waving. You and I have something harder to +do--we've got to live--our watchword, '_The cunning of the fox and the +courage of the lion!_' I've some dangerous work to do pretty soon. The +little Scalawag Governor is getting ready for us----" + +"I want that job!" MacArthur cried eagerly. + +"I'll let you know when the time comes." + +The farmer smiled: + +"I _am_ a Scotchman--ain't I?" + +"And a good one, too!" + +With his hand on the door, the rugged face aflame with patriotic fire, he +slowly repeated: + +"The cunning of the fox and the courage of the lion!--And by the living +God, we'll win this time, boy!" + +Norton heard him laugh aloud as he hurried down the stairs. Gazing again +from his window at the black clouds of negroes floating across the Square, +he slowly muttered: + +"Yes, we'll win this time!--but twenty years from now--I wonder!" + +He took up the little black coffin and smiled at the perfection of its +workmanship: + +"I think I know the young gentleman who made that and he may give me +trouble." + +He thrust the thing into a drawer, seized his hat, strolled down a side +street and slowly passed the cabinet shop of the workman whom he suspected. +It was closed. Evidently the master had business outside. It was barely +possible, of course, that he had gone to the galleries of the Capitol to +hear the long-expected message of the Governor against the Klan. The +galleries had been packed for the past two sessions in anticipation of this +threatened message. The Capital city was only a town of five thousand white +inhabitants and four thousand blacks. Rumors of impending political +movements flew from house to house with the swiftness of village gossip. + +He walked to the Capitol building by a quiet street. As he passed through +the echoing corridor the rotund figure of Schlitz, the Carpetbagger, +leader of the House of Representatives, emerged from the Governor's office. + +The red face flushed a purple hue as his eye rested on his arch-enemy of +the _Eagle and Phoenix_. He tried to smile and nodded to Norton. His smile +was answered by a cold stare and a quickened step. + +Schlitz had been a teamster's scullion in the Union Army. He was not even +an army cook, but a servant of servants. He was now the master of the +Legislature of a great Southern state and controlled its black, ignorant +members with a snap of his bloated fingers. There was but one man Norton +loathed with greater intensity and that was the shrewd little Scalawag +Governor, the native traitor who had betrayed his people to win office. A +conference of these two cronies was always an ill omen for the state. + +He hurried up the winding stairs, pushed his way into a corner of the +crowded galleries from which he could see every face and searched in vain +for his young workman. + +He stood for a moment, looked down on the floor of the House and watched a +Black Parliament at work making laws to govern the children of the men who +had created the Republic--watched them through fetid smoke, the vapors of +stale whiskey and the deafening roar of half-drunken brutes as they voted +millions in taxes, their leaders had already stolen. + +The red blood rushed to his cheeks and the big veins on his slender swarthy +neck stood out for a moment like drawn cords. + +He hurried down to the Court House Square, walked with long, leisurely +stride through the thinning crowds, and paused before a vacant lot on the +opposite side of the street. A dozen or more horses were still tied to the +racks provided for the accommodation of countrymen. + +"Funny," he muttered, "farmers start home before sundown, and it's dusk--I +wonder if it's possible!" + +He crossed the street, strolled carelessly among the horses and noted that +their saddles had not been removed and the still more significant fact that +their saddle blankets were unusually thick. Only an eye trained to observe +this fact would have noticed it. He lifted the edge of one of the blankets +and saw the white and scarlet edges of a Klan costume. It was true. The +young dare-devil who had sent that message to old Peeler had planned an +unauthorized raid. Only a crowd of youngsters bent on a night's fun, he +knew; and yet the act at this moment meant certain anarchy unless he nipped +it in the bud. The Klan was a dangerous institution. Its only salvation lay +in the absolute obedience of its members to the orders of an intelligent +and patriotic chief. Unless the word of that chief remained the sole law of +its life, a reign of terror by irresponsible fools would follow at once. As +commander of the Klan in his county he must subdue this lawless element. It +must be done with an iron hand and done immediately or it would be too +late. His decision to act was instantaneous. + +He sent a message to his wife that he couldn't get home for supper, locked +his door and in three hours finished his day's work. There was ample time +to head these boys off before they reached old Peeler's house. They +couldn't start before eleven, yet he would take no chances. He determined +to arrive an hour ahead of them. + +The night was gloriously beautiful--a clear star-gemmed sky in the full +tide of a Southern summer, the first week in August. He paused inside the +gate of his home and drank for a moment the perfume of the roses on the +lawn. The light from the window of his wife's room poured a mellow flood of +welcome through the shadows beside the white, fluted columns. This home of +his father's was all the wreck of war had left him and his heart gave a +throb of joy to-night that it was his. + +Behind the room where the delicate wife lay, a petted invalid, was the +nursery. His baby boy was there, nestling in the arms of the black mammy +who had nursed him twenty odd years ago. He could hear the soft crooning of +her dear old voice singing the child to sleep. The heart of the young +father swelled with pride. He loved his frail little wife with a deep, +tender passion, but this big rosy-cheeked, laughing boy, which she had +given him six months ago, he fairly worshipped. + +He stopped again under the nursery window and listened to the music of the +cradle. The old lullaby had waked a mocking bird in a magnolia beside the +porch and he was answering her plaintive wail with a thrilling love song. +By the strange law of contrast, his memory flashed over the fields of death +he had trodden in the long war. + +"What does it matter after all, these wars and revolutions, if God only +brings with each new generation a nobler breed of men!" + +He tipped softly past the window lest his footfall disturb the loved ones +above, hurried to the stable, saddled his horse and slowly rode through the +quiet streets of the town. On clearing the last clump of negro cabins on +the outskirts his pace quickened to a gallop. + +He stopped in the edge of the woods at the gate which opened from Peeler's +farm on the main road. The boys would have to enter here. He would stop +them at this spot. + +The solemn beauty of the night stirred his soul to visions of the future, +and the coming battle which his Klan must fight for the mastery of the +state. The chirp of crickets, the song of katydids and the flash of +fireflies became the martial music and the flaming torches of triumphant +hosts he saw marching to certain victory. But the Klan he was leading was a +wild horse that must be broken to the bit or both horse and rider would +plunge to ruin. + +There would be at least twenty or thirty of these young marauders to-night. +If they should unite in defying his authority it would be a serious and +dangerous situation. Somebody might be killed. And yet he waited without a +fear of the outcome. He had faced odds before. He loved a battle when the +enemy outnumbered him two to one. It stirred his blood. He had ridden with +Forrest one night at the head of four hundred daring, ragged veterans, +surrounded a crack Union regiment at two o'clock in the morning, and forced +their commander to surrender 1800 men before he discovered the real +strength of the attacking force. It stirred his blood to-night to know that +General Forrest was the Commander-in-Chief of his own daring Clansmen. + +Half an hour passed without a sign of the youngsters. He grew uneasy. Could +they have dared to ride so early that they had reached the house before his +arrival? He must know at once. He opened the gate and galloped down the +narrow track at a furious pace. + +A hundred yards from Peeler's front gate he drew rein and listened. A horse +neighed in the woods, and the piercing shriek of a woman left nothing to +doubt. They were already in the midst of their dangerous comedy. + +He pressed cautiously toward the gate, riding in the shadows of the +overhanging trees. They were dragging old Peeler across the yard toward the +roadway, followed by the pleading voice of a woman begging for his +worthless life. + +Realizing that the raid was now an accomplished fact, Norton waited to see +what the young fools were going to do. He was not long in doubt. They +dragged their panting, perspiring victim into the edge of the woods, tied +him to a sapling and bared his back. The leader stepped forward holding a +lighted torch whose flickering flames made an unearthly picture of the +distorted features and bulging eyes. + +"Mr. Peeler," began the solemn muffled voice behind the cloth mask, "for +your many sins and blasphemies against God and man the preachers of this +county have assembled to-night to call you to repentance----" + +The terror-stricken eyes bulged further and the fat neck twisted in an +effort to see how many ghastly figures surrounded him, as he gasped: + +"Oh, Lord--oh, hell--are you all preachers?" + +"All!" was the solemn echo from each sepulchral figure. + +"Then I'm a goner--that coffin's too big----" + +"Yea, verily, there'll be nothing left when we get through--Selah!" +solemnly cried the leader. + +"But, say, look here, brethren," Peeler pleaded between shattering teeth, +"can't we compromise this thing? I'll repent and join the church. And +how'll a contribution of fifty dollars each strike you? Now what do you say +to that?" + +The coward's voice had melted into a pious whine. + +The leader selected a switch from the bundle extended by a shrouded figure +and without a word began to lay on. Peeler's screams could be heard a mile. + +Norton allowed them to give him a dozen lashes and spurred his horse into +the crowd. There was a wild scramble to cover and most of the boys leaped +to their saddles. Three white figures resolutely stood their ground. + +"What's the meaning of this, sir?" Norton sternly demanded of the man who +still held the switch. + +"Just a little fun, major," was the sheepish answer. + +"A dangerous piece of business." + +"For God's sake, save me, Major Norton!" Peeler cried, suddenly waking from +the spell of fear. "They've got me, sir--and it's just like I told you, +they're all preachers--I'm a goner!" + +Norton sprang from his horse and faced the three white figures. + +"Who's in command of this crowd?" + +"I am, sir!" came the quick answer from a stalwart masquerader who suddenly +stepped from the shadows. + +Norton recognized the young cabinet-maker's voice, and spoke in low tense +tones: + +"By whose authority are you using these disguises, to-night?" + +"It's none of your business!" + +The tall sinewy figure suddenly stiffened, stepped close and peered into +the eyes of the speaker's mask: + +"Does my word go here to-night or must I call out a division of the Klan?" + +A moment's hesitation and the eyes behind the mask fell: + +"All right, sir--nothing but a boyish frolic," muttered the leader +apologetically. + +"Let this be the end of such nonsense," Norton said with a quiet drawl. "If +I catch you fellows on a raid like this again I'll hang your leader to the +first limb I find--good night." + +A whistle blew and the beat of horses' hoofs along the narrow road told +their hurried retreat. + +Norton loosed the cords and led old Peeler to his house. As the fat, +wobbling legs mounted the steps the younger man paused at a sound from +behind and before he could turn a girl sprang from the shadows into his +arms, and slipped to her knees, sobbing hysterically: + +"Save me!--they're going to beat me--they'll beat me to death--don't let +them--please--please don't let them!" + +By the light from the window he saw that her hair was a deep rich red with +the slightest tendency to curl and her wide dilated eyes a soft greenish +grey. + +He was too astonished to speak for a moment and Peeler hastened to say: + +"That's our little gal, Cleo--that is--I--mean--of--course--it's Lucy's +gal! She's just home from school and she's scared to death and I don't +blame her!" + +The girl clung to her rescuer with desperate grip, pressing her trembling +form close with each convulsive sob. + +The man drew the soft arms down, held them a moment and looked into the +dumb frightened face. He was surprised at her unusual beauty. Her skin was +a delicate creamy yellow, almost white, and her cheeks were tinged with the +brownish red of ripe apple. As he looked in to her eyes he fancied that he +saw a young leopardess from an African jungle looking at him through the +lithe, graceful form of a Southern woman. + +And then something happened in the shadows that stood out forever in his +memory of that day as the turning point of his life. + +Laughing at her fears, he suddenly lifted his hand and gently stroked the +tangled red hair, smoothing it back from her forehead with a movement +instinctive, and irresistible as he would have smoothed the fur of a yellow +Persian kitten. + +Surprised at his act, he turned without a word and left the place. + +And all the way home, through the solemn starlit night, he brooded over the +strange meeting with this extraordinary girl. He forgot his fight. One +thing only stood out with increasing vividness--the curious and +irresistible impulse that caused him to stroke her hair. Personally he had +always loathed the Southern white man who stooped and crawled through the +shadows to meet such women. She was a negress and he knew it, and yet the +act was instinctive and irresistible. + +Why? + +He asked himself the question a hundred times, and the longer he faced it +the angrier he became at his stupid folly. For hours he lay awake, seeing +in the darkness only the face of this girl. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +CLEO ENTERS + + +The conference of the carpetbagger with the little Governor proved more +ominous than even Norton had feared. The blow struck was so daring, so +swift and unexpected it stunned for a moment the entire white race. + +When the editor reached his office on the second morning after the raid, +his desk was piled with telegrams from every quarter of the state. The +Governor had issued a proclamation disarming every white military company +and by wire had demanded the immediate surrender of their rifles to the +negro Adjutant-General. The same proclamation had created an equal number +of negro companies who were to receive these guns and equipments. + +The negroid state Government would thus command an armed black guard of +fifty thousand men and leave the white race without protection. + +Evidently His Excellency was a man of ambitions. It was rumored that he +aspired to the Vice-Presidency and meant to win the honor by a campaign of +such brilliance that the solid negro-ruled South would back him in the +National Convention. + +Beyond a doubt, this act was the first step in a daring attempt inspired by +the radical fanatics in Congress to destroy the structure of white +civilization in the South. + +And the Governor's resources were apparently boundless. President Johnson, +though a native Southerner, was a puppet now in the hands of his powerful +enemies who dominated Congress. These men boldly proclaimed their purpose +to make the South negro territory by confiscating the property of the +whites and giving it to the negroes. Their bill to do this, House Bill +Number Twenty-nine, introduced by the government leader, Thaddeus Stevens, +was already in the calendar and Mr. Stevens was pressing for its passage +with all the skill of a trained politician inspired by the fiercest hate. +The army had been sent back into the prostrate South to enforce the edicts +of Congress and the negro state government could command all the Federal +troops needed for any scheme concocted. + +But the little Governor had a plan up his sleeve by which he proposed to +startle even the Black Radical Administration at Washington. He was going +to stamp out "Rebellion" without the aid of Federal troops, reserving his +right to call them finally as a last resort. That they were ready at his +nod gave him the moral support of their actual presence. + +That any man born of a Southern mother and reared in the South under the +conditions of refinement and culture, of the high ideals and the courage of +the old regime, could fall so low as to use this proclamation, struck +Norton at first as impossible. He refused to believe it. There must be some +misunderstanding. He sent a messenger to the Capitol for a copy of the +document before he was fully convinced. + +And then he laughed in sheer desperation at the farce-tragedy to which the +life of a brave people had been reduced. It was his business as an editor +to record the daily history of the times. For a moment in imagination he +stood outside his office and looked at his work. + +"Future generations simply can't be made to believe it!" he exclaimed. +"It's too grotesque to be credible even to-day." + +It had never occurred to him that the war was unreasonable. Its passions, +its crushing cost, its bloodstained fields, its frightful cruelties were of +the great movements of the race from a lower to a higher order of life. +Progress could only come through struggle. War was the struggle which had +to be when two great moral forces clashed. One must die, the other live. A +great issue had to be settled in the Civil War, an issue raised by the +creation of the Constitution itself, an issue its creators had not dared to +face. And each generation of compromisers and interpreters had put it off +and put it off until at last the storm of thundering guns broke from a +hundred hills at once. + +It had never been decided by the builders of the Republic whether it should +be a mighty unified nation or a loose aggregation of smaller sovereignties. +Slavery made it necessary to decide this fundamental question on which the +progress of America and the future leadership of the world hung. + +He could see all this clearly now. He had felt it dimly true throughout +every bloody scene of the war itself. And so he had closed the eyes of the +lonely dying boy with a reverent smile. It was for his country. He had died +for what he believed to be right and it was good. He had stood bareheaded +in solemn court martials and sentenced deserters to death, led them out in +the gray morning to be shot and ordered them dumped into shallow trenches +without a doubt or a moment's hesitation. He had walked over battlefields +at night and heard the groans of the wounded, the sighs of the dying, the +curses of the living, beneath the silent stars and felt that in the end it +must be good. It was war, and war, however cruel, was inevitable--the great +High Court of Life and Death for the nations of earth. + +But this base betrayal which had followed the honorable surrender of a +brave, heroic army--this wanton humiliation of a ruined people by pot-house +politicians--this war on the dead, the wounded, the dying, and their +defenseless women--this enthronement of Savagery, Superstition, Cowardice +and Brutality in high places where Courage and Honor and Chivalry had +ruled--these vandals and camp followers and vultures provoking violence and +exciting crime, set to rule a brave people who had risked all for a +principle and lost--this was a nightmare; it was the reduction of human +society to an absurdity! + +For a moment he saw the world red. Anger, fierce and cruel, possessed him. +The desire to kill gripped and strangled until he could scarcely breathe. + +Nor did it occur to this man for a moment that he could separate his +individual life from the life of his people. His paper was gaining in +circulation daily. It was paying a good dividend now and would give his +loved ones the luxuries he had dreamed for them. The greater the turmoil +the greater his profits would be. And yet this idea never once flashed +through his mind. His people were of his heart's blood. He had no life +apart from them. Their joys were his, their sorrows his, their shame his. +This proclamation of a traitor to his race struck him in the face as a +direct personal insult. The hot shame of it found his soul. + +When the first shock of surprise and indignation had spent itself, he +hurried to answer his telegrams. His hand wrote now with the eager, sure +touch of a master who knew his business. To every one he sent in substance +the same message: + +"Submit and await orders." + +As he sat writing the fierce denunciation of this act of the Chief +Executive of the state, he forgot his bitterness in the thrill of life that +meant each day a new adventure. He was living in an age whose simple record +must remain more incredible than the tales of the Arabian Nights. And the +spell of its stirring call was now upon him. + +The drama had its comedy moments, too. He could but laugh at the sorry +figures the little puppets cut who were strutting for a day in pomp and +splendor. Their end was as sure as the sweep of eternal law. Water could +not be made to run up hill by the proclamation of a Governor. + +He had made up his mind within an hour to give the Scalawag a return blow +that would be more swift and surprising than his own. On the little man's +reception of that counter stroke would hang the destiny of his +administration and the history of the state for the next generation. + +On the day the white military companies surrendered their arms to their +negro successors something happened that was not on the programme of the +Governor. + +The Ku Klux Klan held its second grand parade. It was not merely a dress +affair. A swift and silent army of drilled, desperate men, armed and +disguised, moved with the precision of clockwork at the command of one +mind. At a given hour the armory of every negro military company in the +state was broken open and its guns recovered by the white and scarlet +cavalry of the "Invisible Empire." + +Within the next hour every individual negro in the state known to be in +possession of a gun or pistol was disarmed. Resistance was futile. The +attack was so sudden and so unexpected, the attacking party so overwhelming +at the moment, each black man surrendered without a blow and a successful +revolution was accomplished in a night without a shot or the loss of a +life. + +Next morning the Governor paced the floor of his office in the Capitol with +the rage of a maddened beast, and Schlitz, the Carpetbagger, was summoned +for a second council of war. It proved to be a very important meeting in +the history of His Excellency. + +The editor sat at his desk that day smiling in quiet triumph as he read the +facetious reports wired by his faithful lieutenants from every district of +the Klan. An endless stream of callers had poured through his modest little +room and prevented any attempt at writing. He had turned the columns over +to his assistants and the sun was just sinking in a smother of purple glory +when he turned from his window and began to write his leader for the day. + +It was an easy task. A note of defiant power ran through a sarcastic +warning to the Governor that found the quick. The editorial flashed with +wit and stung with bitter epigram. And there was in his consciousness of +power a touch of cruelty that should have warned the Scalawag against his +next act of supreme folly. + +But His Excellency had bad advisers, and the wheels of Fate moved swiftly +toward the appointed end. + +Norton wrote this editorial with a joy that gave its crisp sentences the +ring of inspired leadership. He knew that every paper in the state read by +white men and women would copy it and he already felt in his heart the +reflex thrill of its call to his people. + +He had just finished his revision of the last paragraph when a deep, +laughing voice beside his chair slowly said: + +"May I come in?" + +He looked up with a start to find the tawny figure of the girl whose red +hair he had stroked that night bowing and smiling. Her white, perfect teeth +gleamed in the gathering twilight and her smile displayed two pretty +dimples in the brownish red cheeks. + +"I say, may I come in?" she repeated with a laugh. + +"It strikes me you are pretty well in," Norton said good-humoredly. + +"Yes, I didn't have any cards. So I came right up. It's getting dark and +nobody saw me----" + +The editor frowned and moved uneasily + +"You're alone, aren't you?" she asked. + +"The others have all gone to supper, I believe." + +"Yes, I waited 'til they left. I watched from the Square 'til I saw them +go." + +"Why?" he asked sharply. + +"I don't know. I reckon I was afraid of 'em." + +"And you're not afraid of me?" he laughed. + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I know you." + +Norton smiled: + +"You wish to see me?" + +"Yes." + +"Is there anything wrong at Mr. Peeler's?" + +"No, I just came to thank you for what you did and see if you wouldn't let +me work for you?" + +"Work? Where--here?" + +"Yes. I can keep the place clean. My mother said it was awful. And, honest, +it's worse than I expected. It doesn't look like it's been cleaned in a +year." + +"I don't believe it has," the editor admitted. + +"Let me keep it decent for you." + +"Thanks, no. It seems more home-like this way." + +"Must it be so dirty?" she asked, looking about the room and picking up the +scattered papers from the floor. + +Norton, watching her with indulgent amusement at her impudence, saw that +she moved her young form with a rhythmic grace that was perfect. The simple +calico dress, with a dainty little check, fitted her perfectly. It was cut +low and square at the neck and showed the fine lines of a beautiful throat. +Her arms were round and finely shaped and bare to an inch above the elbows. +The body above the waistline was slender, and the sinuous free movement of +her figure showed that she wore no corset. Her step was as light as a cat's +and her voice full of good humor and the bubbling spirits of a perfectly +healthy female animal. + +His first impulse was to send her about her business with a word of +dismissal. But when she laughed it was with such pleasant assurance and +such faith in his friendliness it was impossible to be rude. + +She picked up the last crumpled paper and laid it on a table beside the +wall, turned and said softly: + +"Well, if you don't want me to clean up for you, anyhow, I brought you some +flowers for your room--they're outside." + +She darted through the door and returned in a moment with an armful of +roses. + +"My mother let me cut them from our yard, and she told me to thank you for +coming that night. They'd have killed us if you hadn't come." + +"Nonsense, they wouldn't have touched either you or your mother!" + +"Yes, they would, too. Goodness--haven't you anything to put the flowers +in?" + +She tipped softly about the room, holding the roses up and arranging them +gracefully. + +Norton watched her with a lazy amused interest. He couldn't shake off the +impression that she was a sleek young animal, playful and irresponsible, +that had strayed from home and wandered into his office. And he loved +animals. He never passed a stray dog or a cat without a friendly word of +greeting. He had often laid on his lounge at home, when tired, and watched +a kitten play an hour with unflagging interest. Every movement of this +girl's lithe young body suggested such a scene--especially the velvet tread +of her light foot, and the delicate motions of her figure followed suddenly +by a sinuous quick turn and a childish laugh or cry. The faint shadows of +negro blood in her creamy skin and the purring gentleness of her voice +seemed part of the gathering twilight. Her eyes were apparently twice the +size as when first he saw them, and the pupils, dilated in the dusk, +flashed with unusual brilliance. + +She had wandered into the empty reporters' room without permission looking +for a vase, came back and stood in the doorway laughing: + +"This is the dirtiest place I ever got into in my life. Gracious! Isn't +there a thing to put the flowers in?" + +The editor, roused from his reveries, smiled and answered: + +"Put them in the pitcher." + +"Why, yes, of course, the pitcher!" she cried, rushing to the little +washstand. + +"Why, there isn't a drop of water in it--I'll go to the well and get some." + +She seized the pitcher, laid the flowers down in the bowl, darted out the +door and flew across the street to the well in the Court House Square. + +The young editor walked carelessly to the window and watched her. She +simply couldn't get into an ungraceful attitude. Every movement was +instinct with vitality. She was alive to her finger tips. Her body swayed +in perfect rhythmic unison with her round, bare arms as she turned the +old-fashioned rope windlass, drew the bucket to the top and dropped it +easily on the wet wooden lids that flapped back in place. + +She was singing now a crooning, half-savage melody her mother had taught +her. The low vibrant notes of her voice, deep and tender and quivering with +a strange intensity, floated across the street through the gathering +shadows. The voice had none of the light girlish quality of her age of +eighteen, but rather the full passionate power of a woman of twenty-five. +The distance, the deepening shadows and the quiet of the town's lazy life, +added to the dreamy effectiveness of the song. + +"Beautiful!" the man exclaimed. "The negro race will give the world a great +singer some day----" + +And then for the first time in his life the paradox of his personal +attitude toward this girl and his attitude in politics toward the black +race struck him as curious. He had just finished an editorial in which he +had met the aggressions of the negro and his allies with the fury, the +scorn, the defiance, the unyielding ferocity with which the Anglo-Saxon +conqueror has always treated his inferiors. And yet he was listening to the +soft tones of this girl's voice with a smile as he watched with +good-natured indulgence the light gleam mischievously from her impudent big +eyes while she moved about his room. + +Yet this was not to be wondered at. The history of the South and the +history of slavery made such a paradox inevitable. The long association +with the individual negro in the intimacy of home life had broken down the +barriers of personal race repugnance. He had grown up with negro boys and +girls as playmates. He had romped and wrestled with them. Every servant in +every home he had ever known had been a negro. The first human face he +remembered bending over his cradle was a negro woman's. He had fallen +asleep in her arms times without number. He had found refuge there against +his mother's stern commands and sobbed out on her breast the story of his +fancied wrongs and always found consolation. "Mammy's darlin'" was always +right--the world cruel and wrong! He had loved this old nurse since he +could remember. She was now nursing his own and he would defend her with +his life without a moment's hesitation. + +And so it came about inevitably that while he had swung his white and +scarlet legions of disguised Clansmen in solid line against the Governor +and smashed his negro army without the loss of a single life, he was at the +same moment proving himself defenseless against the silent and deadly +purpose that had already shaped itself in the soul of this sleek, sensuous +young animal. He was actually smiling with admiration at the beautiful +picture he saw as she lifted the white pitcher, placed it on the crown of +red hair, and crossed the street. + +She was still softly singing as she entered the room and arranged the +flowers in pretty confusion. + +Norton had lighted his lamp and seated himself at his desk again. She came +close and looked over his shoulder at the piles of papers. + +"How on earth can you work in such a mess?" she asked with a laugh. + +"Used to it," he answered without looking up from the final reading of his +editorial. + +"What's that you've written?" + +The impudent greenish gray eyes bent closer. + +"Oh, a little talk to the Governor----" + +"I bet it's a hot one. Peeler says you don't like the Governor--read it to +me!" + +The editor looked up at the mischievous young face and laughed aloud: + +"I'm afraid you wouldn't understand it." + +The girl joined in the laugh and the dimples in the reddish brown cheeks +looked prettier than ever. + +"Maybe I wouldn't," she agreed. + +He resumed his reading and she leaned over his chair until he felt the soft +touch of her shoulder against his. She was staring at his paste-pot, +extended her tapering, creamy finger and touched the paste. + +"What in the world's that?" she cried, giggling again. + +"Paste." + +Another peal of silly laughter echoed through the room. + +"Lord, I thought it was mush and milk--I thought it was your supper!--don't +you eat no supper?" + +"Sometimes." + +The editor looked up with a slight frown and said: + +"Run along now, child, I've got to work. And tell your mother I'm obliged +for the flowers." + +"I'm not going back home----" + +"Why not?" + +"I'm scared out there. I've come in town to live with my aunt." + +"Well, tell her when you see her." + +"Please let me clean this place up for you?" she pleaded. + +"Not to-night." + +"To-morrow morning, then? I'll come early and every morning--please--let +me--it's all I can do to thank you. I'll do it a month just to show you how +pretty I can keep it and then you can pay me if you want me. It's a +bargain, isn't it?" + +The editor smiled, hesitated, and said: + +"All right--every morning at seven." + +"Thank you, major--good night!" + +She paused at the door and her white teeth gleamed in the shadows. She +turned and tripped down the stairs, humming again the strangely appealing +song she had sung at the well. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A BEAST AWAKES + + +Within a week Norton bitterly regretted the arrangement he had made with +Cleo. Not because she had failed to do her work properly, but precisely +because she was doing it so well. She had apparently made it the sole +object of her daily thought and the only task to which she devoted her +time. + +He couldn't accustom his mind to the extraordinary neatness with which she +kept the office. The clean floor, the careful arrangement of the chairs, +the neat piles of exchanges laid on a table she had placed beside his desk, +and the vase of fresh flowers he found each morning, were constant +reminders of her personality which piqued his curiosity and disturbed his +poise. + +He had told her to come at seven every morning. It was his habit to reach +the office and begin reading the exchanges by eight-thirty and he had not +expected to encounter her there. She had always managed, however, to linger +over her morning tasks until his arrival, and never failed to greet him +pleasantly and ask if there were anything else she could do. She also +insisted on coming at noon to fill his pitcher and again just before supper +to change the water in the vase of flowers. + +At this last call she always tried to engage him in a few words of small +talk. At first this program made no impression on his busy brain except +that she was trying to prove her value as a servant. Gradually, however, +he began to notice that her dresses were cut with remarkable neatness for a +girl of her position and that she showed a rare talent in selecting +materials becoming to her creamy yellow skin and curling red hair. + +He observed, too, that she had acquired the habit of hanging about his desk +when finishing her tasks and had a queer way of looking at him and +laughing. + +She began to make him decidedly uncomfortable and he treated her with +indifference. No matter how sullen the scowl with which he greeted her, she +was always smiling and humming snatches of strange songs. He sought for an +excuse to discharge her and could find none. She had the instincts of a +perfect servant--intelligent, careful and loyal. She never blundered over +the papers on his desk. She seemed to know instinctively what was worthless +and what was valuable, and never made a mistake in rearranging the chaotic +piles of stuff he left in his wake. + +He thought once for just a moment of the possibility of her loyalty to the +negro race. She might in that case prove a valuable spy to the Governor and +his allies. He dismissed the idea as preposterous. She never associated +with negroes if she could help it and apparently was as innocent as a babe +of the nature of the terrific struggle in which he was engaged with the +negroid government of the state. + +And yet she disturbed him deeply and continuously, as deeply sometimes when +absent as when present. + +Why? + +He asked himself the question again and again. Why should he dislike her? +She did her work promptly and efficiently, and for the first time within +his memory the building was really fit for human habitation. + +At last he guessed the truth and it precipitated the first battle of his +life with the beast that slumbered within. Feeling her physical nearness +more acutely than usual at dusk and noting that she had paused in her task +near his desk, he slowly lifted his eyes from the paper he was reading and, +before she realized it, caught the look on her face when off guard. The +girl was in love with him. It was as clear as day now that he had the key +to her actions the past week. For this reason she had come and for this +reason she was working with such patience and skill. + +His first impulse was one of rage. He had little of the vanity of the male +animal that struts before the female. His pet aversion was the man of his +class who lowered himself to vulgar association with such girls. The fact +that, at this time in the history of the South, such intrigues were common +made his determination all the more bitter as a leader of his race to stand +for its purity. + +He suddenly swung in his chair, determined to dismiss her at once with as +few words as possible. + +She leaped gracefully back with a girlish laugh, so soft, low and full of +innocent surprise, the harsh words died on his lips. + +"Lordy, major," she cried, "how you scared me! I thought you had a fit. Did +a pin stick you--or maybe a flea bit you?" + +She leaned against the mantel laughing, her white teeth gleaming. + +He hesitated a moment, his eyes lingered on the graceful pose of her young +figure, his ear caught the soft note of friendly tenderness in her voice +and he was silent. + +"What's the matter?" she asked, stepping closer. + +"Nothing." + +"Well, you made an awful fuss about it!" + +"Just thought of something--suddenly----" + +"I thought you were going to bite my head off and then that something bit +you!" + +Again she laughed and walked slowly to the door, her greenish eyes watching +him with studied carelessness, as a cat a mouse. Every movement of her +figure was music, her smile contagious, and, by a subtle mental telepathy, +she knew that the man before her felt it, and her heart was singing a +savage song of triumph. She could wait. She had everything to gain and +nothing to lose. She belonged to the pariah world of the Negro. Her love +was patient, joyous, insistent, unconquerable. + +It was unusually joyous to-night because she felt without words that the +mad desires that burned a living fire in every nerve of her young body had +scorched the man she had marked her own from the moment she had first laid +eyes on his serious, aristocratic face--for back of every hysterical cry +that came from her lips that night in the shadows beside old Peeler's house +lay the sinister purpose of a mad love that had leaped full grown from the +deeps of her powerful animal nature. + +She paused in the doorway and softly said: + +"Good night." + +The tone of her voice was a caress and the bold eyes laughed a daring +challenge straight into his. + +He stared at her a moment, flushed, turned pale and answered in a strained +voice: + +"Good night, Cleo." + +But it was not a good night for him. It was a night never to be forgotten. +Until after twelve he walked beneath the stars and fought the Beast--the +Beast with a thousand heads and a thousand legs; the Beast that had been +bred in the bone and sinew of generations of ancestors, wilful, cruel, +courageous conquerors of the world. Before its ravenous demands the words +of mother, teacher, priest and lawgiver were as chaff before the +whirlwind--the Beast demanded his own! Peace came at last with the vision +of a baby's laughing face peeping at him from the arms of a frail little +mother. + +He made up his mind and hurried home. He would get rid of this girl +to-morrow and never again permit her shadow to cross his pathway. With +other men of more sluggish temperament, position, dignity, the +responsibility of leadership, the restraints of home and religion might be +the guarantee of safety under such temptations. He didn't propose to risk +it. He understood now why he was so nervous and distracted in her presence. +The mere physical proximity to such a creature, vital, magnetic, unmoral, +beautiful and daring, could only mean one thing to a man of his age and +inheritance--a temptation so fierce that yielding could only be a question +of time and opportunity. + +And when he told her the next morning that she must not come again she was +not surprised, but accepted his dismissal without a word of protest. + +With a look of tenderness she merely said: + +"I'm sorry." + +"Yes," he went on curtly, "you annoy me; I can't write while you are +puttering around, and I'm always afraid you'll disturb some of my papers." + +She laughed in his face, a joyous, impudent, good-natured, ridiculous +laugh, that said more eloquently than words: + +"I understand your silly excuse. You're afraid of me. You're a big coward. +Don't worry, I can wait. You'll come to me. And if not, I'll find you--for +I shall be near--and now that you know and fear, I shall be very near!" + +She moved shyly to the door and stood framed in its white woodwork, an +appealing picture of dumb regret. + +She had anticipated this from the first. And from the moment she threw the +challenge into his eyes the night before, saw him flush and pale beneath +it, she knew it must come at once, and was prepared. There was no use to +plead and beg or argue. It would be a waste of breath with him in this +mood. + +Besides, she had already found a better plan. + +So when he began to try to soften his harsh decision with kindly words she +only smiled in the friendliest possible way, stepped back to his desk, +extended her hand, and said: + +"Please let me know if you need me. I'll do anything on earth for you, +major. Good-by." + +It was impossible to refuse the gracefully outstretched hand. The Southern +man had been bred from the cradle to the most intimate and friendly +personal relations with the black folks who were servants in the house. Yet +the moment he touched her hand, felt its soft warm pressure and looked into +the depths of her shining eyes he wished that he had sent her away with +downright rudeness. + +But it was impossible to be rude with this beautiful young animal that +purred at his side. He started to say something harsh, she laughed and he +laughed. + +She held his hand clasped in hers for a moment and slowly said: + +"I haven't done anything wrong, have I, major?" + +"No." + +"You are not mad at me for anything?" + +"No, certainly not." + +"I wonder why you won't let me work here?" + +She looked about the room and back at him, speaking slowly, musingly, with +an impudence that left little doubt in his mind that she suspected the real +reason and was deliberately trying to tease him. + +He flushed, hurriedly withdrew his hand and replied carelessly: + +"You bother me--can't work when you're fooling around." + +"All right, good-bye." + +He turned to his work and she was gone. He was glad she was out of his +sight and out of his life forever. He had been a fool to allow her in the +building at all. + +He could concentrate his mind now on his fight with the Governor. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE ARREST + + +The time had come in Norton's fight when he was about to be put to a +supreme test. + +The Governor was preparing the most daring and sensational movement of his +never-to-be-forgotten administration. The audacity and thoroughness with +which the Klan had disarmed and made ridiculous his army of fifty thousand +negroes was at first a stunning blow. In vain Schlitz stormed and pleaded +for National aid. + +"You must ask for Federal troops without a moment's delay," he urged +desperately. + +The Scalawag shook his head with quiet determination. + +"Congress, under the iron rule of Stevens, will send them, I grant you----" + +"Then why hesitate?" + +"Because their coming would mean that I have been defeated on my own soil, +that my administration of the state is a failure." + +"Well, isn't it?" + +"No; I'll make good my promises to the men in Washington who have backed +me. They are preparing to impeach the President, remove him from office and +appoint a dictator in his stead. I'll show them that I can play my part in +the big drama, too. I am going to deliver this state bound hand and foot +into their hands, with a triumphant negro electorate in the saddle, or +I'll go down in ignominious defeat." + +"You'll go down, all right--without those troops--mark my word," cried the +Carpetbagger. + +"All right, I'll go down flying my own flag." + +"You're a fool!" Schlitz roared. "Union troops are our only hope!" + +His Excellency kept his temper. The little ferret eyes beneath their bushy +brows were drawn to narrow lines as he slowly said: + +"On the other hand, my dear Schlitz, I don't think I could depend on +Federal troops if they were here." + +"No?" was the indignant sneer. + +"Frankly I do not," was the even answer. "Federal officers have not shown +themselves very keen about executing the orders of Reconstruction +Governors. They have often pretended to execute them and in reality treated +us with contempt. They hold, in brief, that they fought to preserve the +Union, not to make negroes rule over white men! The task before us is not +to their liking. I don't trust them for a moment. I have a better plan----" + +"What?" + +"I propose to raise immediately an army of fifty thousand loyal white men, +arm and drill them without delay----" + +"Where'll you get them?" Schlitz cried incredulously. + +"I'll find them if I have to drag the gutters for every poor white scamp in +the state. They'll be a tough lot, maybe, but they'll make good soldiers. A +soldier is a man who obeys orders, draws his pay, and asks no +questions----" + +"And then what?" + +"And then, sir!----" + +The Governor's leathery little face flushed as he sprang to his feet and +paced the floor of his office in intense excitement. + +"I'll tell you what then!" Schlitz cried with scorn. + +The pacing figure paused and eyed his tormentor, lifting his shaggy brows: + +"Yes?" + +"And then," the Carpetbagger answered, "the Ku Klux Klan will rise in a +night, jump on your mob of ragamuffins, take their guns and kick them back +into the gutter." + +"Perhaps," the Governor said, musingly, "if I give them a chance! But I +won't!" + +"You won't? How can you prevent it?" + +"Very simply. I'll issue a proclamation suspending the _writ_ of _habeas +corpus_----" + +"But you have no right," Schlitz gasped. The ex-scullion had been studying +law the past two years and aspired to the Supreme Court bench. + +"My right is doubtful, but it will go in times of revolution. I'll suspend +the _writ_, arrest the leaders of the Klan without warrant, put them in +jail and hold them there without trial until the day after the election." + +Schlitz's eyes danced as he sprang forward and extended his fat hand to the +Scalawag: + +"Governor, you're a great man! Only a great mind would dare such a plan. +But do you think your life will be safe?" + +The little figure was drawn erect and the ferret eyes flashed: + +"The Governor of a mighty commonwealth--they wouldn't dare lift their +little finger against me." + +Schlitz shook his head dubiously. + +"A pretty big job in times of peace--to suspend the civil law, order +wholesale arrests without warrants by a ragged militia and hold your men +without trial----" + +"I like the job!" was the quick answer. "I'm going to show the smart young +man who edits the paper in this town that he isn't running the universe." + +Again the adventurer seized the hand of his chief: + +"Governor, you're a great man! I take my hat off to you, sir." + +His Excellency smiled, lifted his sloping shoulders, moistened his thin +lips and whispered: + +"Not a word now to a living soul until I strike----" + +"I understand, sir, not a word," the Carpetbagger replied in low tones as +he nervously fumbled his hat and edged his way out of the room. + +The editor received the Governor's first move in the game with contempt. It +was exactly what he had expected--this organization of white renegades, +thieves, loafers, cut-throats, and deserters. It was the last resort of +desperation. Every day, while these dirty ignorant recruits were being +organized and drilled, he taunted the Governor over the personnel of his +"Loyal" army. He began the publication of the history of its officers and +men. These biographical stories were written with a droll humor that kept +the whole state in a good-humored ripple of laughter and inspired the +convention that nominated a complete white man's ticket to renewed +enthusiasm. + +And then the bolt from the blue--the Governor's act of supreme madness! + +As the editor sat at his desk writing an editorial congratulating the state +on the brilliant ticket that the white race had nominated and predicting +its triumphant election, in spite of negroes, thieves, cut-throats, +Scalawags and Carpetbaggers, a sudden commotion on the sidewalk in front of +his office stopped his pencil in the midst of an unfinished word. + +He walked to the window and looked out. By the flickering light of the +street lamp he saw an excited crowd gathering in the street. + +A company of the Governor's new guard had halted in front. An officer +ripped off the palings from the picket fence beside the building and sent a +squad of his men to the rear. + +The tramp of heavy feet on the stairs was heard and the dirty troopers +crowded into the editor's room, muskets in hand, cocked, and their fingers +on the triggers. + +Norton quietly drew the pencil from his ear, smiled at the mottled group of +excited men, and spoke in his slow drawl: + +"And why this excitement, gentlemen?" + +The captain stepped forward: + +"Are you Major Daniel Norton?" + +"I am, sir." + +"You're my prisoner." + +"Show your warrant!" was the quick challenge. + +"I don't need one, sir." + +"Indeed! And since when is this state under martial law?" + +"Will you go peaceable?" the captain asked roughly. + +"When I know by whose authority you make this arrest." + +The editor walked close to the officer, drew himself erect, his hands +clenched behind his back and held the man's eye for a moment with a cold +stare. + +The captain hesitated and drew a document from his pocket. + +The editor scanned it hastily and suddenly turned pale: + +"A proclamation suspending the _writ_ of _habeas corpus_--impossible!" + +The captain lifted his dirty palms: + +"I reckon you can read!" + +"Oh, yes, I can read it, captain--still it's impossible. You can't suspend +the law of gravitation by saying so on a scrap of paper----" + +"You are ready to go?" + +The editor laughed: + +"Certainly, certainly--with pleasure, I assure you." + +The captain lifted his hand and his men lowered their guns. The editor +seized a number of blank writing pads, a box of pencils, put on his hat and +called to his assistants: + +"I'm moving my office temporarily to the county jail, boys. It's quieter +over there. I can do better work. Send word to my home that I'm all right +and tell my wife not to worry for a minute. Every man to his post now and +the liveliest paper ever issued! And on time to the minute." + +The printers had crowded into the room and a ringing cheer suddenly +startled the troopers. + +The foreman held an ugly piece of steel in his hand and every man seemed to +have hold of something. + +"Give the word, chief!" the foreman cried. + +The editor smiled: + +"Thanks, boys, I understand. Go back to your work. You can help best that +way." + +The men dropped their weapons and crowded to the door, jeering and howling +in derision at the awkward squad as they stumbled down the stairs after +their commander, who left the building holding tightly to the editor's arm, +as if at any moment he expected an escape or a rescue. + +The procession wended its way to the jail behind the Court House through a +crowd of silent men who merely looked at the prisoner, smiled and nodded to +him over the heads of his guard. + +An ominous quiet followed the day's work. The Governor was amazed at the +way his sensational coup was received. He had arrested and thrown into jail +without warrant the leaders of the white party in every county in the +state. He was absolutely sure that these men were the leaders of the Ku +Klux Klan, the one invisible but terrible foe he really feared. + +He had expected bluster, protests, mass meetings and fiery resolutions. +Instead his act was received with a silence that was uncanny. In vain his +Carpetbagger lieutenant congratulated him on the success of his Napoleonic +move. + +His little ferret eyes snapped with suppressed excitement. + +"But what the devil is the meaning of this silence, Schlitz?" he asked with +a tremor. + +"They're stunned, I tell you. It was a master stroke. They're a lot of +cowards and sneaks, these night raiders, anyhow. It only took a bold act of +authority to throw them into a panic." + +The Scalawag shook his head thoughtfully: + +"Doesn't look like a panic to me--I'm uneasy----" + +"The only possible mistake you've made was the arrest of Norton." + +"Yes, I know public sentiment in the North don't like an attempt to +suppress free speech, but I simply had to do it. Damn him, I've stood his +abuse as long as I'm going to. Besides his dirty sheet is at the bottom of +all our trouble." + +When the Governor scanned his copy of the next morning's _Eagle and +Phoenix_ his feeling of uneasiness increased. + +Instead of the personal abuse he had expected from the young firebrand, he +read a long, carefully written editorial reviewing the history of the great +_writ_ of _habeas corpus_ in the evolution of human freedom. The essay +closed with the significant statement that no Governor in the records of +the state or the colony had ever dared to repeal or suspend this guarantee +of Anglo-Saxon liberty--not even for a moment during the chaos of the Civil +War. + +But the most disquieting feature of this editorial was the suggestive fact +that it was set between heavy mourning lines and at the bottom of it stood +a brief paragraph enclosed in even heavier black bands: + + "We regret to announce that the state is at present without + a chief executive. Our late unlamented Governor passed away + in a fit of insanity at three o'clock yesterday." + +When the little Scalawag read the sarcastic obituary he paled for a moment +and the hand which held the paper trembled so violently he was compelled to +lay it on the table to prevent his secretary from noting his excitement. + +For the first time in the history of the state an armed guard was stationed +at the door of the Governor's mansion that night. + +The strange calm continued. No move was made by the negroid government to +bring the imprisoned men to trial and apparently no effort was being made +by the men inside the jails to regain their liberty. + +Save that his editorials were dated from the county jail, no change had +occurred in the daily routine of the editor's life. He continued his series +of articles on the history of the state each day, setting them in heavy +black mourning lines. Each of these editorials ended with an appeal to the +patriotism of the reader. And the way in which he told the simple story of +each step achieved in the blood-marked struggle for liberty had a punch in +it that boded ill for the little man who had set himself the task of +dictatorship for a free people. + +No reference was made in the _Eagle and Phoenix_ to the Governor. He was +dead. The paper ignored his existence. Each day of this ominous peace among +his enemies increased the terror which had gripped the little Scalawag from +the morning he had read his first obituary. The big black rules down the +sides of those editorials seemed a foot wide now when he read them. + +Twice he seated himself at his desk to order the editor's release and each +time cringed and paused at the thought of the sneers with which his act +would be greeted. He was now between the devil and the deep sea. He was +afraid to retreat and dared not take the next step forward. If he could +hold his ground for two weeks longer, and carry the election by the +overwhelming majority he had planned, all would be well. Such a victory, +placing him in power for four years and giving him an obedient negro +Legislature once more to do his bidding, would strike terror to his foes +and silence their assaults. The negro voters far outnumbered the whites, +and victory was a certainty. And so he held his ground--until something +happened! + +It began in a semi-tropical rain storm that swept the state. All day it +poured in blinding torrents, the wind steadily rising in velocity until at +noon it was scarcely possible to walk the streets. + +At eight o'clock the rain ceased to fall and by nine glimpses of the moon +could be seen as the fast flying clouds parted for a moment. But for these +occasional flashes of moonlight the night was pitch dark. The Governor's +company of nondescript soldiers in camp at the Capitol, drenched with rain, +had abandoned their water-soaked tents for the more congenial atmosphere of +the low dives and saloons of the negro quarters. + +The minute the rain ceased to fall, Norton's wife sent his supper--but +to-night by a new messenger. Cleo smiled at him across the little table as +she skillfully laid the cloth, placed the dishes and set a tiny vase of +roses in the center. + +"You see," she began, smiling, "your wife needed me and I'm working at your +house now, major." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes. Mammy isn't well and I help with the baby. He's a darling. He loved +me the minute I took him in my arms and hugged him." + +"No doubt." + +"His little mother likes me, too. I can pick her up in my arms and carry +her across the room. You wouldn't think I'm so strong, would you?" + +"Yes--I would," he answered slowly, studying her with a look of increasing +wonder at her audacity. + +"You're not mad at me for being there, are you? You can't be--mammy wants +me so"--she paused--"Lordy, I forgot the letter!" + +She drew from her bosom a note from his wife. He looked curiously at a +smudge where it was sealed and, glancing at the girl who was busy with the +tray, opened and read: + + "I have just received a message from MacArthur's daughter + that your life is to be imperilled to-night by a dangerous + raid. Remember your helpless wife and baby. Surely there are + trusted men who can do such work. You have often told me + that no wise general ever risks his precious life on the + firing line. You are a soldier, and know this. Please, + dearest, do not go. Baby and little mother both beg of you!" + +Norton looked at Cleo again curiously. He was sure that the seal of this +note had been broken and its message read by her. + +"Do you know what's in this note, Cleo?" he asked sharply. + +"No, sir!" was the quick answer. + +He studied her again closely. She was on guard now. Every nerve alert, +every faculty under perfect control. He was morally sure she was lying and +yet it could only be idle curiosity or jealous interest in his affairs that +prompted the act. That she should be an emissary of the Governor was +absurd. + +"It's not bad news, I hope?" she asked with an eagerness that was just a +little too eager. The man caught the false note and frowned. + +"No," he answered carelessly. "It's of no importance." He picked up a pad +and wrote a hurried answer: + + "Don't worry a moment, dear. I am not in the slightest + danger. I know a soldier's duty and I'll not forget it. + Sleep soundly, little mother and baby mine!" + +He folded the sheet of paper and handed it to her without sealing it. She +was watching him keenly. His deep, serious eyes no longer saw her. His body +was there, but the soul was gone. The girl had never seen him in this mood. +She was frightened. His life _was_ in danger. She knew it now by an +unerring instinct. She would watch the jail and see what happened. She +might do something to win his friendship, and then--the rest would be easy. +Her hand trembled as she took the note. + +"Give this to Mrs. Norton at once," he said, "and tell her you found me +well and happy in my work." + +"Yes, sir," the soft voice answered mechanically as she picked up the tray +and left the room watching him furtively. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE RESCUE + + +Cleo hurried to the house, delivered the message, rocked the baby to sleep +and quietly slipped through the lawn into the street and back to the jail. + +A single guard kept watch at the door. She saw him by a flash of moonlight +and then passed so close she could have touched the long old-fashioned +musket he carried loosely across his shoulder. + +The cat-like tread left no echo and she took her stand in the underbrush +that had pushed its way closer and closer until its branches touched the +rear walls of the jail. For two hours she stood amid the shadows, her keen +young ears listening and her piercing eyes watching. Again and again she +counted the steps the sentinel made as he walked back and forth in front of +the entrance to the jail. + +She knew from the sound that he passed the corner of the building for three +steps in full view from her position, could she but see him through the +darkness. Twice she had caught a glimpse of his stupid face as the moon +flashed a moment of light through a rift of clouds. + +"The Lord help that idiot," she muttered, "if the major's men want to pass +him to-night!" + +She turned with a sharp start. The bushes softly parted behind her and a +stealthy step drew near. Her heart stood still. She was afraid to breathe. +They wouldn't hurt her if they only knew she was the major's friend. But if +they found and recognized her as old Peeler's half-breed daughter, they +might kill her on the spot as a spy. + +She hadn't thought of this terrible possibility before. It was too late now +to think. To run meant almost certain death. She flattened her figure +against the wall of the jail and drew the underbrush close completely +covering her form. + +She stood motionless and as near breathless as possible until the two men +who were approaching a step at a time had passed. At the corner of the jail +they stopped within three feet of her. She could hear every word of their +conference. + +"Now, Mac, do as I tell you," a voice whispered. "Jump on him from behind +as he passes the corner and get him in the gills." + +"I understand." + +"Choke him stiff until I get something in his mouth." + +"Ah, it's too easy. I'd like a little excitement." + +"We'll get it before morning----" + +"Sh! what's that?" + +"I didn't hear anything!" + +"Something moved." + +A bush had slipped from Cleo's hand. She gripped the others with +desperation. Ten minutes passed amid a death-like silence. A hundred times +she imagined the hand of one of these men feeling for her throat. At last +she drew a deep breath. + +The men began to move step by step toward the doomed sentinel. They were +standing beside the front corner of the jail now waiting panther-like for +their prey. They allowed him to pass twice. He stopped at the end of his +beat, blew his nose and spoke to himself: + +"God, what a lonely night!" + +The girl heard him turn, his feet measure three steps on his return and +stop with a dull thud. She couldn't see, but she could feel through the +darkness the grip of those terrible fingers on his throat. The only sound +made was the dull thud of his body on the wet ground. + +In two minutes they had carried him into the shadows of a big china tree in +the rear and tied him to the trunk. She could hear their sharp order: + +"Break those cords now or dare to open your mouth and, no matter what +happens, we'll kill you first--just for luck." + +In ten minutes they had reported the success of their work to their +comrades who were waiting and the men who had been picked for their +dangerous task surrounded the jail and slowly took up their appointed +places in the shadows. + +The attacking group stopped for their final instructions not five feet from +the girl's position. A flash of moonlight and she saw them--six grim white +and scarlet figures wearing spiked helmets from which fell a cloth mask to +their shoulders. Their big revolvers were buckled on the outside of their +disguises and each man's hand rested on the handle. + +One of them quietly slipped his robe from his shoulders, removed his +helmet, put on the sentinel's coat and cap, seized his musket and walked to +the door of the jail. + +She heard him drop the butt of the gun on the flagstone at the steps and +call: + +"Hello, jailer!" + +Some one stirred inside. It was not yet one o'clock and the jailer who had +been to a drinking bout with the soldiers had not gone to bed. In his shirt +sleeves he thrust his head out the door: + +"Who is it?" + +"The guard, sir." + +"Well, what the devil do you want?" + +"Can't ye gimme a drink of somethin'? I'm soaked through and I've caught +cold----" + +"All right, in a minute," was the gruff reply. + +The girl could hear the soft tread of the shrouded figures closing in on +the front door. A moment more and it opened. The voice inside said: + +"Here you are!" + +The words had scarcely passed his lips, and there was another dull crash. A +dozen masked Clansmen hurled themselves into the doorway and rushed over +the prostrate form of the half-drunken jailer. He was too frightened to +call for help. He lay with his face downward, begging for his life. + +It was the work of a minute to take the keys from his trembling fingers, +bind and gag him, and release Norton. The whole thing had been done so +quietly not even a dog had barked at the disturbance. + +Again they stopped within a few feet of the trembling figure against the +wall. The editor had now put on his disguise and stood in the centre of the +group giving his orders as quietly as though he were talking to his +printers about the form of his paper. + +"Quick now, Mac," she heard him say, "we've not a moment to lose. I want +two pieces of scantling strong enough for a hangman's beam. Push one of +them out of the center window of the north end of the Capitol building, +the other from the south end. We'll hang the little Scalawag on the south +side and the Carpetbagger on the north. We'll give them this grim touch of +poetry at the end. Your ropes have ready swinging from these beams. Keep +your men on guard there until I come." + +"All right, sir!" came the quick response. + +"My hundred picked men are waiting?" + +"On the turnpike at the first branch----" + +"Good! The Governor is spending the night at Schlitz's place, three miles +out. He has been afraid to sleep at home of late, I hear. We'll give the +little man and his pal a royal escort for once as they approach the +Capitol--expect us within an hour." + +A moment and they were gone. The girl staggered from her cramped position +and flew to the house. She couldn't understand it all, but she realized +that if the Governor were killed it meant possible ruin for the man she had +marked her own. + +A light was still burning in the mother's room. She had been nervous and +restless and couldn't sleep. She heard the girl's swift, excited step on +the stairway and rushed to the door: + +"What is it? What has happened?" + +Cleo paused for breath and gasped: + +"They've broken the jail open and he's gone with the Ku Klux to kill the +Governor!" + +"To kill the Governor?" + +"Yessum. He's got a hundred men waiting out on the turnpike and they're +going to hang the Governor from one of the Capitol windows!" + +The wife caught the girl by the shoulders and cried: + +"Who told you this?" + +"Nobody. I saw them. I was passing the jail, heard a noise and went close +in the dark. I heard the major give the orders to the men." + +"Oh, my God!" the little mother groaned. "And they are going straight to +the Governor's mansion?" + +"No--no--he said the Governor's out at Schlitz's place, spending the night. +They're going to kill him, too----" + +"Then there's time to stop them--quick--can you hitch a horse?" + +"Yessum!" + +"Run to the stable, hitch my horse to the buggy and take a note I'll write +to my grandfather, old Governor Carteret--you know where his place is--the +big red brick house at the edge of town?" + +"Yessum----" + +"His street leads into the turnpike--quick now--the horse and buggy!" + +The strong young body sprang down the steps three and four rounds at a leap +and in five minutes the crunch of swift wheels on the gravel walk was +heard. + +She sprang up the stairs, took the note from the frail, trembling little +hand and bounded out of the house again. + +The clouds had passed and the moon was shining now in silent splendor on +the sparkling refreshed trees and shrubbery. The girl was an expert in +handling a horse. Old Peeler had at least taught her that. In five more +minutes from the time she had left the house she was knocking furiously at +the old Governor's door. He was eighty-four, but a man of extraordinary +vigor for his age. + +He came to the door alone in his night-dress, candle in hand, scowling at +the unseemly interruption of his rest. + +"What is it?" he cried with impatience. + +"A note from Mrs. Norton." + +At the mention of her name the fine old face softened and then his eyes +flashed: + +"She is ill?" + +"No, sir--but she wants you to help her." + +He took the note, placed the candle on the old-fashioned mahogany table in +his hall, returned to his room for his glasses, adjusted them with +deliberation and read its startling message. + +He spoke without looking up: + +"You know the road to Schlitz's house?" + +"Yes, sir, every foot of it." + +"I'll be ready in ten minutes." + +"We've no time to lose--you'd better hurry," the girl said nervously. + +The old man lifted his eyebrows: + +"I will. But an ex-Governor of the state can't rush to meet the present +Governor in his shirt-tail--now, can he?" + +Cleo laughed: + +"No, sir." + +The thin, sprightly figure moved quickly in spite of the eighty-four years +and in less than ten minutes he was seated beside the girl and they were +flying over the turnpike toward the Schlitz place. + +"How long since those men left the jail?" the old Governor asked roughly. + +"About a half-hour, sir." + +"Give your horse the rein--we'll be too late, I'm afraid." + +The lines slacked over the spirited animal's back and he sprang forward as +though lashed by the insult to his high breeding. + +The sky was studded now with stars sparkling in the air cleared by the +rain, and the moon flooded the white roadway with light. The buggy flew +over the beaten track for a mile, and as they suddenly plunged down a hill +the old man seized both sides of the canopy top to steady his body as the +light rig swayed first one way and then the other. + +"You're going pretty fast," he grumbled. + +"Yes, you said to give him the reins." + +"But I didn't say to throw them on the horse's head, did I?" + +"No, sir," the girl giggled. + +"Pull him in!" he ordered sharply. + +The strong young arms drew the horse suddenly down on his haunches and the +old man lurched forward. + +"I didn't say pull him into the buggy," he growled. + +The girl suppressed another laugh. He was certainly a funny old man for all +his eighty odd winters. She thought that he must have been a young devil at +eighteen. + +"Stop a minute!" he cried sharply. "What's that roaring?" + +Cleo listened: + +"The wind in the trees, I think." + +"Nothing of the sort--isn't this Buffalo creek?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"That's water we hear. The creek's out of banks. The storm has made the +ford impassable. They haven't crossed this place yet. We're in time." + +The horse lifted his head and neighed. Another answered from the woods and +in a moment a white-masked figure galloped up to the buggy and spoke +sharply: + +"You can't cross this ford--turn back." + +"Are you one of Norton's men?" the old man asked angrily. + +"None of your damned business!" was the quick answer. + +"I think it is, sir! I'm Governor Carteret. My age and services to this +state entitle me to a hearing to-night. Tell Major Norton I must speak to +him immediately--immediately, sir!" His voice rose to a high note of +imperious command. + +The horseman hesitated and galloped into the shadows. A moment later a tall +shrouded figure on horseback slowly approached. + +"Cut your wheel," the old Governor said to the girl. He stepped from the +buggy without assistance. "Now turn round and wait for me." Cleo obeyed, +and the venerable statesman with head erect, his white hair and beard +shining in the moonlight calmly awaited the approach of the younger man. + +Norton dismounted and led his horse, the rein hanging loosely over his arm. + +"Well, Governor Carteret"--the drawling voice was low and quietly +determined. + +The white-haired figure suddenly stiffened: + +"Don't insult me, sir, by talking through a mask--take that thing off your +head." + +The major bowed and removed his mask. + +When the old man spoke again, his voice trembled with emotion, he stepped +close and seized Norton's arm: + +"My boy, have you gone mad?" + +"I think not," was the even answer. The deep brown eyes were holding the +older man's gaze with a cold, deadly look. "Were you ever arrested, +Governor, by the henchmen of a peanut politician and thrown into a filthy +jail without warrant and held without trial at the pleasure of a master?" + +"No--by the living God!" + +"And if you had been, sir?" + +"I'd have killed him as I would a dog--I'd have shot him on sight--but +you--you can't do this now, my boy--you carry the life of the people in +your hands to-night! You are their chosen leader. The peace and dignity of +a great commonwealth are in your care----" + +"I am asserting its outraged dignity against a wretch who has basely +betrayed it." + +"Even so, this is not the way. Think of the consequences to-morrow morning. +The President will be forced against his wishes to declare the state in +insurrection. The army will be marched back into our borders and martial +law proclaimed." + +"The state is under martial law--the _writ_ has been suspended." + +"But not legally, my boy. I know your provocation has been great--yes, +greater than I could have borne in my day. I'll be honest with you, but +you've had better discipline, my son. I belong to the old regime and an +iron will has been my only law. You must live in the new age under new +conditions. You must adjust yourself to these conditions." + +"The man who calls himself Governor has betrayed his high trust," Norton +broke in with solemn emphasis. "He has forfeited his life. The people whom +he has basely sold into bondage will applaud his execution. The Klan +to-night is the high court of a sovereign state and his death has been +ordered." + +"I insist there's a better way. Your Klan is a resistless weapon if +properly used. You are a maniac to-night. You are pulling your own house +down over your head. The election is but a few weeks off. Use your men as +an army to force this election. The ballot is force--physical force. Apply +that force. Your men can master that rabble of negroes on election day. +Drive them from the polls. They'll run like frightened sheep. Their +enfranchisement is a crime against civilization. Every sane man in the +North knows this. No matter how violent your methods, an election that +returns the intelligent and decent manhood of a state to power against a +corrupt, ignorant and vicious mob will be backed at last by the moral +sentiment of the world. There's a fiercer vengeance to be meted out to your +Scalawag Governor----" + +"What do you mean?" the younger man asked. + +"Swing the power of your Klan in solid line against the ballot-box at this +election, carry the state, elect your Legislature, impeach the Governor, +remove him from office, deprive him of citizenship and send him to the +grave with the brand of shame on his forehead!" + +The leader lifted his somber face, and the older man saw that he was +hesitating: + +"That's possible--yes----" + +The white head moved closer: + +"The only rational thing to do, my boy--come, I love you and I love my +granddaughter. You've a great career before you. Don't throw your life away +to-night in a single act of madness. Listen to an old man whose sands are +nearly run"--a trembling arm slipped around his waist. + +"I appreciate your coming here to-night, Governor, of course." + +"But if I came in vain, why at all?" there were tears in his voice now. +"You must do as I say, my son--send those men home! I'll see the Governor +to-morrow morning and I pledge you my word of honor that I'll make him +revoke that proclamation within an hour and restore the civil rights of the +people. None of those arrests are legal and every man must be released." + +"He won't do it." + +"When he learns from my lips that I saved his dog's life to-night, he'll do +it and lick my feet in gratitude. Won't you trust me, boy?" + +The pressure of the old man's arm tightened and his keen eyes searched +Norton's face. The strong features were convulsed with passion, he turned +away and the firm mouth closed with decision: + +"All right. I'll take your advice." + +The old Governor was very still for a moment and his voice quivered with +tenderness as he touched Norton's arm affectionately: + +"You're a good boy, Dan! I knew you'd hear me. God! how I envy you the +youth and strength that's yours to fight this battle!" + +The leader blew a whistle and his orderly galloped up: + +"Tell my men to go home and meet me to-morrow at one o'clock in the Court +House Square, in their everyday clothes, armed and ready for orders. I'll +dismiss the guard I left at the Capitol." + +The white horseman wheeled and galloped away. Norton quietly removed his +disguise, folded it neatly, took off his saddle, placed the robe between +the folds of the blanket and mounted his horse. + +The old Governor waved to him: + +"My love to the little mother and that boy, Tom, that you've named for me!" + +"Yes, Governor--good night." + +The tall figure on horseback melted into the shadows and in a moment the +buggy was spinning over the glistening, moonlit track of the turnpike. + +When they reached the first street lamps on the edge of town, the old man +peered curiously at the girl by his side. + +"You drive well, young woman," he said slowly. "Who taught you?" + +"Old Peeler." + +"You lived on his place?" he asked quickly. + +"Yes, sir." + +"What's your mother's name?" + +"Lucy." + +"Hm! I thought so." + +"Why, sir?" + +"Oh, nothing," was the gruff answer. + +"Did you--did you know any of my people, sir?" she asked. + +He looked her squarely in the face, smiled and pursed his withered lips: + +"Yes. I happen to be personally acquainted with your grandfather and he was +something of a man in his day." + +[Illustration: "'You are a maniac to-night.'"] + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +A TRAITOR'S RUSE + + +The old Governor had made a correct guess on the line of action his little +Scalawag successor in high office would take when confronted by the crisis +of the morning. + +The Clansmen had left the two beams projecting through the windows of the +north and south wings of the Capitol. A hangman's noose swung from each +beam's end. + +When His Excellency drove into town next morning and received the news of +the startling events of the night, he ordered a double guard of troops for +his office and another for his house. + +Old Governor Carteret called at ten o'clock and was ushered immediately +into the executive office. No more striking contrast could be imagined +between two men of equal stature. Their weight and height were almost the +same, yet they seemed to belong to different races of men. The Scalawag +official hurried to meet his distinguished caller--a man whose +administration thirty years ago was famous in the annals of the state. + +The acting Governor seemed a pigmy beside his venerable predecessor. The +only prominent feature of the Scalawag's face was his nose. Its size should +have symbolized strength, yet it didn't. It seemed to project straight in +front in a way that looked ridiculous--as if some one had caught it with a +pair of tongs, tweaked and pulled it out to an unusual length. It was +elongated but not impressive. His mouth was weak, his chin small and +retreating and his watery ferret eyes never looked any one straight in the +face. The front of his head was bald and sloped backward at an angle. His +hair was worn in long, thin, straight locks which he combed often in a vain +effort to look the typical long-haired Southern gentleman of the old +school. + +His black broadcloth suit with a velvet collar and cuffs fitted his slight +figure to perfection and yet failed to be impressive. The failure was +doubtless due to his curious way of walking about a room. Sometimes +sideways like a crab or a crawfish, and when he sought to be impressive, +straight forward with an obvious jerk and an effort to appear dignified. + +He was the kind of a man an old-fashioned negro, born and bred in the homes +of the aristocratic regime of slavery, would always laugh at. His attempt +to be a gentleman was so obvious a fraud it could deceive no one. + +"I am honored, Governor Carteret, by your call this morning," he cried with +forced politeness. "I need the advice of our wisest men. I appreciate your +coming." + +The old Governor studied the Scalawag for a moment calmly and said: + +"Thank you." + +When shown to his seat the older man walked with the unconscious dignity of +a man born to rule, the lines of his patrician face seemed cut from a cameo +in contrast with the rambling nondescript features of the person who walked +with a shuffle beside him. It required no second glance at the clean +ruffled shirt with its tiny gold studs, the black string tie, the polished +boots and gold-headed cane to recognize the real gentleman of the old +school. And no man ever looked a second time at his Roman nose and massive +chin and doubted for a moment that he saw a man of power, of iron will and +fierce passions. + +"I have called this morning, Governor," the older man began with sharp +emphasis, "to advise you to revoke at once your proclamation suspending the +_writ_ of _habeas corpus_. Your act was a blunder--a colossal blunder! We +are not living in the Dark Ages, sir--even if you were elected by a negro +constituency! Your act is four hundred years out of date in the +English-speaking world." + +The Scalawag began his answer by wringing his slippery hands: + +"I realize, Governor Carteret, the gravity of my act. Yet grave dangers +call for grave remedies. You see from the news this morning the condition +of turmoil into which reckless men have plunged the state." + +The old man rose, crossed the room and confronted the Scalawag, his eyes +blazing, his uplifted hand trembling with passion: + +"The breed of men with whom you are fooling have not submitted to such an +act of tyranny from their rulers for the past three hundred years. Your +effort to set the negro up as the ruler of the white race is the act of a +madman. Revoke your order to-day or the men who opened that jail last night +will hang you----" + +The Governor laughed lamely: + +"A cheap bluff, sir, a schoolboy's threat!" + +The older man drew closer: + +"A cheap bluff, eh? Well, when you say your prayers to-night, don't forget +to thank your Maker for two things--that He sent a storm yesterday that +made Buffalo creek impassable and that I reached its banks in time!" + +The little Scalawag paled and his voice was scarcely a whisper: + +"Why--why, what do you mean?" + +"That I reached the ford in time to stop a hundred desperate men who were +standing there in the dark waiting for its waters to fall that they might +cross and hang you from that beam's end you call a cheap bluff! That I +stood there in the moonlight with my arm around their leader for nearly an +hour begging, praying, pleading for your damned worthless life! They gave +it to me at last because I asked it. No other man could have saved you. +Your life is mine to-day! But for my solemn promise to those men that you +would revoke that order your body would be swinging at this moment from the +Capitol window--will you make good my promise?" + +"I'll--I'll consider it," was the waning answer. + +"Yes or no?" + +"I'll think it over, Governor Carteret--I'll think it over," the trembling +voice repeated. "I must consult my friends----" + +"I won't take that answer!" the old man thundered in his face. "Revoke that +proclamation here and now, or, by the Lord God, I'll send a message to +those men that'll swing you from the gallows before the sun rises to-morrow +morning!" + +"I've got my troops----" + +"A hell of a lot of troops they are! Where were they last night--the +loafing, drunken cowards? You can't get enough troops in this town to save +you. Revoke that proclamation or take your chances!" + +The old Governor seized his hat and walked calmly toward the door. The +Scalawag trembled, and finally said: + +"I'll take your advice, sir--wait a moment until I write the order." + +The room was still for five minutes, save for the scratch of the Governor's +pen, as he wrote his second famous proclamation, restoring the civil rights +of the people. He signed and sealed the document and handed it to his +waiting guest: + +"Is that satisfactory?" + +The old man adjusted his glasses, read each word carefully, and replied +with dignity: + +"Perfectly--good morning!" + +The white head erect, the visitor left the executive chamber without a +glance at the man he despised. + +The Governor had given his word, signed and sealed his solemn proclamation, +but he proved himself a traitor to the last. + +With the advice of his confederates he made a last desperate effort to gain +his end of holding the leaders of the opposition party in jail by a quick +shift of method. He wired orders to every jailer to hold the men until +warrants were issued for their arrest by one of his negro magistrates in +each county and wired instructions to the clerk of the court to admit none +of them to bail no matter what amount offered. + +The charges on which these warrants were issued were, in the main, +preposterous perjuries by the hirelings of the Governor. There was no +expectation that they would be proven in court. But if they could hold +these prisoners until the election was over the little Scalawag believed +the Klan could be thus intimidated in each district and the negro ticket +triumphantly elected. + +The Governor was explicit in his instructions to the clerk of the court in +the Capital county that under no conceivable circumstances should he accept +bail for the editor of the _Eagle and Phoenix_. + +The Governor's proclamation was issued at noon and within an hour a deputy +sheriff appeared at Norton's office and served his warrant charging the +preposterous crime of "Treason and Conspiracy" against the state +government. + +Norton's hundred picked men were already lounging in the Court House +Square. When the deputy appeared with his prisoner they quietly closed in +around him and entered the clerk's room in a body. The clerk was dumfounded +at the sudden packing of his place with quiet, sullen looking, armed men. +Their revolvers were in front and the men were nervously fingering the +handles. + +The clerk had been ordered by the Governor under no circumstances to accept +bail, and he had promised with alacrity to obey. But he changed his mind at +the sight of those revolvers. Not a word was spoken by the men and the +silence was oppressive. The frightened official mopped his brow and tried +to leave for a moment to communicate with the Capitol. He found it +impossible to move from his desk. The men were jammed around him in an +impenetrable mass. He looked over the crowd in vain for a friendly face. +Even the deputy who had made the arrest had been jostled out of the room +and couldn't get back. + +The editor looked at the clerk steadily for a moment and quietly asked: + +"What amount of bail do you require?" + +The officer smiled wanly: + +"Oh, major, it's just a formality with you, sir; a mere nominal sum of $500 +will be all right." + +"Make out your bond," the editor curtly ordered. "My friends here will sign +it." + +"Certainly, certainly, major," was the quick answer. "Have a seat, sir, +while I fill in the blank." + +"I'll stand, thank you," was the quick reply. + +The clerk's pen flew while he made out the forbidden bail which set at +liberty the arch enemy of the Governor. When it was signed and the daring +young leader quietly walked out the door, a cheer from a hundred men rent +the air. + +The shivering clerk cowered in his seat over his desk and pretended to be +very busy. In reality he was breathing a prayer of thanks to God for +sparing his life and registering a solemn vow to quit politics and go back +to farming. + +The editor hurried to his office and sent a message to each district leader +of the Klan to secure bail for the accused men in the same quiet manner. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE IRONY OF FATE + + +His political battle won, Norton turned his face homeward for a struggle in +which victory would not come so easily. He had made up his mind that Cleo +should not remain under his roof another day. How much she really knew or +understood of the events of the night he could only guess. He was sure she +had heard enough of the plans of his men to make a dangerous witness +against him if she should see fit to betray the facts to his enemies. + +Yet he was morally certain that he could trust her with this secret. What +he could not and would not do was to imperil his own life and character by +a daily intimate association with this willful, impudent, smiling young +animal. + +His one fear was the wish of his wife to keep her. In her illness she had +developed a tyranny of love that brooked no interference with her whims. He +had petted and spoiled her until it was well-nigh impossible to change the +situation. The fear of her death was the sword that forever hung over his +head. + +[Illustration: "Sitting astride her back, laughing his loudest."] + +He hoped that the girl was lying when she said his wife liked her. Yet it +was not improbable. Her mind was still a child's. She could not think evil +of any one. She loved the young and she loved grace and beauty wherever she +saw it. She loved a beautiful cat, a beautiful dog, and always had taken +pride in a handsome servant. It would be just like her to take a fancy to +Cleo that no argument could shake. He dreaded to put the thing to an +issue--but it had to be done. It was out of the question to tell her the +real truth. + +His heart sank within him as he entered his wife's room. Mammy had gone to +bed suffering with a chill. The doctors had hinted that she was suffering +from an incurable ailment and that her days were numbered. Her death might +occur at any time. + +Cleo was lying flat on a rug, the baby was sitting astride of her back, +laughing his loudest at the funny contortions of her lithe figure. She +would stop every now and then, turn her own laughing eyes on him and he +would scream with joy. + +The little mother was sitting on the floor like a child and laughing at the +scene. In a flash he realized that Cleo had made herself, in the first few +days she had been in his house, its dominant spirit. + +He paused in the doorway sobered by the realization. + +The supple young form on the floor slowly writhed on her back without +disturbing the baby's sturdy hold, his little legs clasping her body tight. +She drew his laughing face to her shoulder, smothering his laughter with +kisses, and suddenly sprang to her feet, the baby astride her neck, and +began galloping around the room. + +"W'oa! January, w'oa, sir!" she cried, galloping slowly at first and then +prancing like a playful horse. + +Her cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling and red hair flying in waves of +fiery beauty over her exquisite shoulders, every change of attitude a new +picture of graceful abandon, every movement of her body a throb of savage +music from some strange seductive orchestra hidden in the deep woods! + +Its notes slowly stole over the senses of the man with such alluring power, +that in spite of his annoyance he began to smile. + +The girl stopped, placed the child on the floor, ran to the corner of the +room, dropped on all fours and started slowly toward him, her voice +imitating the deep growl of a bear. + +"Now the bears are going to get him!--Boo-oo-oo." + +The baby screamed with delight. The graceful young she-bear capered around +her victim from side to side, smelling his hands and jumping back, +approaching and retreating, growling and pawing the floor, while with each +movement the child shouted a new note of joy. + +The man, watching, wondered if this marvelous creamy yellow animal could +get into an ungraceful position. + +The keen eyes of the young she-bear saw the boy had worn himself out with +laughter and slowly approached her victim, tumbled his happy flushed little +form over on the rug and devoured him with kisses. + +"Don't, Cleo--that's enough now!" the little mother cried, through her +tears of laughter. + +"Yessum--yessum--I'm just eatin' him up now--I'm done--and he'll be asleep +in two minutes." + +She sprang to her feet, crushing the little form tenderly against her warm, +young bosom, and walked past the man smiling into his face a look of +triumph. The sombre eyes answered with a smile in spite of himself. + +Could any man with red blood in his veins fight successfully a force like +that? He heard the growl of the Beast within as he stood watching the +scene. The sight of the frail little face of his invalid wife brought him +up against the ugly fact with a sharp pain. + +Yet the moment he tried to broach the subject of discharging Cleo, he +hesitated, stammered and was silent. At last he braced himself with +determination for the task. It was disagreeable, but it had to be done. The +sooner the better. + +"You like this girl, my dear?" he said softly. + +"She's the most wonderful nurse I ever saw--the baby's simply crazy about +her!" + +"Yes, I see," he said soberly. + +"It's a perfectly marvellous piece of luck that she came the day she did. +Mammy was ready to drop. She's been like a fairy in the nursery from the +moment she entered. The kiddy has done nothing but laugh and shriek with +delight." + +"And you like her personally?" + +"I've just fallen in love with her! She's so strong and young and +beautiful. She picks me up, laughing like a child, and carries me into the +bathroom, carries me back and tucks me in bed as easily as she does the +baby." + +"I'm sorry, my dear," he interrupted with a firm, hard note in his voice. + +"Sorry--for what?" the blue eyes opened with astonishment. + +"Because I don't like her, and her presence here may be very dangerous just +now----" + +"Dangerous--what on earth can you mean?" + +"To begin with that she's a negress----" + +"So's mammy--so's the cook--the man--every servant we've ever had--or will +have----" + +"I'm not so sure of the last," the husband broke in with a frown. + +"What's dangerous about the girl, I'd like to know?" his wife demanded. + +"I said, to begin with, she's a negress. That's perhaps the least +objectionable thing about her as a servant. But she has bad blood in her on +her father's side. Old Peeler's as contemptible a scoundrel as I know in +the county----" + +"The girl don't like him--that's why she left home." + +"Did she tell you that?" he asked quizzically. + +"Yes, and I'm sorry for her. She wants a good home among decent white +people and I'm not going to give her up. I don't care what you say." + +The husband ignored the finality of this decision and went on with his +argument as though she had not spoken. + +"Old Peeler is not only a low white scoundrel who would marry this girl's +mulatto mother if he dared, but he is trying to break into politics as a +negro champion. He denies it, but he is a henchman of the Governor. I'm in +a fight with this man to the death. There's not room for us both in the +state----" + +"And you think this laughing child cares anything about the Governor or his +dirty politics? Such a thing has never entered her head." + +"I'm not sure of that." + +"You're crazy, Dan." + +"But I'm not so crazy, my dear, that I can't see that this girl's presence +in our house is dangerous. She already knows too much about my +affairs--enough, in fact, to endanger my life if she should turn traitor." + +"But she won't tell, I tell you--she's loyal--I'd trust her with my life, +or yours, or the baby's, without hesitation. She proved her loyalty to me +and to you last night." + +"Yes, and that's just why she's so dangerous." He spoke slowly, as if +talking to himself. "You can't understand, dear, I am entering now the last +phase of a desperate struggle with the little Scalawag who sits in the +Governor's chair for the mastery of this state and its life. The next two +weeks and this election will decide whether white civilization shall live +or a permanent negroid mongrel government, after the pattern of Haiti and +San Domingo, shall be established. If we submit, we are not worth saving. +We ought to die and our civilization with us! We are not going to submit, +we are not going to die, we are going to win. I want you to help me now by +getting rid of this girl." + +"I won't give her up. There's no sense in it. A man who fought four years +in the war is not afraid of a laughing girl who loves his baby and his +wife! I can't risk a green, incompetent girl in the nursery now. I can't +think of breaking in a new one. I like Cleo. She's a breath of fresh air +when she comes into my room; she's clean and neat; she sings beautifully; +her voice is soft and low and deep; I love her touch when she dresses me; +the baby worships her--is all this nothing to you?" + +"Is my work nothing to you?" he answered soberly. + +"Bah! It's a joke! Your work has nothing to do with this girl. She knows +nothing, cares nothing for politics--it's absurd!" + +"My dear, you must listen to me now----" + +"I won't listen. I'll have my way about my servants. It's none of your +business. Look after your politics and let the nursery alone!" + +"Please be reasonable, my love. I assure you I'm in dead earnest. The +danger is a real one, or I wouldn't ask this of you--please----" + +"No--no--no--no!" she fairly shrieked. + +His voice was very quiet when he spoke at last: + +"I'm sorry to cross you in this, but the girl must leave to-night." + +The tones of his voice and the firm snap of his strong jaw left further +argument out of the question and the little woman played her trump card. + +She sprang to her feet, pale with rage, and gave way to a fit of hysteria. +He attempted to soothe her, in grave alarm over the possible effects on her +health of such a temper. + +With a piercing scream she threw herself across the bed and he bent over +her tenderly: + +"Please, don't act this way!" + +Her only answer was another scream, her little fists opening and closing +like a bird's talons gripping the white counterpane in her trembling +fingers. + +The man stood in helpless misery and sickening fear, bent low and +whispered: + +"Please, please, darling--it's all right--she can stay. I won't say another +word. Don't make yourself ill. Please don't!" + +The sobbing ceased for a moment, and he added: + +"I'll go into the nursery and send her here to put you to bed." + +He turned to the door and met Cleo entering. + +"Miss Jean called me?" she asked with a curious smile playing about her +greenish eyes. + +"Yes. She wishes you to put her to bed." + +The girl threw him a look of triumphant tenderness and he knew that she had +heard and understood. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A NEW WEAPON + + +From the moment the jail doors opened the Governor felt the chill of +defeat. With his armed guard of fifty thousand "Loyal" white men he hoped +to stem the rising tide of Anglo-Saxon fury. But the hope was faint. There +was no assurance in its warmth. Every leader he had arrested without +warrant and held without bail was now a firebrand in a powder magazine. +Mass meetings, barbecues and parades were scheduled for every day by his +enemies in every county. + +The state was ablaze with wrath from the mountains to the sea. The orators +of the white race spoke with tongues of flame. + +The record of negro misrule under an African Legislature was told with +brutal detail and maddening effects. The state treasury was empty, the +school funds had been squandered, millions in bonds had been voted and +stolen and the thieves had fled the state in terror. + +All this the Governor knew from the first, but he also knew that an +ignorant negro majority would ask no questions and believe no evil of their +allies. + +The adventurers from the North had done their work of alienating the races +with a thoroughness that was nothing short of a miracle. The one man on +earth who had always been his best friend, every negro now held his +bitterest foe. He would consult his old master about any subject under the +sun and take his advice against the world except in politics. He would come +to the back door, beg him for a suit of clothes, take it with joyous +thanks, put it on and march straight to the polls and vote against the hand +that gave it. + +He asked no questions as to his own ticket. It was all right if it was +against the white man of the South. The few Scalawags who trained with +negroes to get office didn't count. + +The negro had always despised such trash. The Governor knew his solid black +constituency would vote like sheep, exactly as they were told by their new +teachers. + +But the nightmare that disturbed him now, waking or dreaming, was the fear +that this full negro vote could not be polled. The daring speeches by the +enraged leaders of the white race were inflaming the minds of the people +beyond the bounds of all reason. These leaders had sworn to carry the +election and dared the Governor to show one of his scurvy guards near a +polling place on the day they should cast their ballots. + +The Ku Klux Klan openly defied all authority. Their men paraded the county +roads nightly and ended their parades by lining their horsemen in cavalry +formation, galloping through the towns and striking terror to every denizen +of the crowded negro quarters. + +In vain the Governor issued frantic appeals for the preservation of the +sanctity of the ballot. His speeches in which he made this appeal were +openly hissed. + +The ballot was no longer a sacred thing. The time was in American history +when it was the badge of citizen kingship. At this moment the best men in +the state were disfranchised and hundreds of thousands of negroes, with the +instincts of the savage and the intelligence of the child, had been given +the ballot. Never in the history of civilization had the ballot fallen so +low in any republic. The very atmosphere of a polling place was a stench in +the nostrils of decent men. + +The determination of the leaders of the Klan to clear the polls by force if +need be was openly proclaimed before the day of election. The philosophy by +which they justified this stand was simple, and unanswerable, for it was +founded in the eternal verities. Men are not made free by writing a +constitution on a piece of paper. Freedom is inside. A ballot is only a +symbol. That symbol stands for physical force directed by the highest +intelligence. The ballot, therefore, is force--physical force. Back of +every ballot is a bayonet and the red blood of the man who holds it. +Therefore, a minority submits to the verdict of a majority at the polls. If +there is not an intelligent, powerful fighting unit back of the scrap of +paper that falls into a box, there's nothing there and that man's ballot +has no more meaning than if it had been deposited by a trained pig or a +dog. + +On the day of this fated election the little Scalawag Governor sat in the +Capitol, the picture of nervous despair. Since sunrise his office had been +flooded with messages from every quarter of the state begging too late for +troops. Everywhere his henchmen were in a panic. From every quarter the +stories were the same. + +Hundreds of determined, silent white men had crowded the polls, taken their +own time to vote and refused to give an inch of room to the long line of +panic-stricken negroes who looked on helplessly. At five o'clock in the +afternoon less than a hundred blacks had voted in the entire township in +which the Capital was located. + +Norton was a candidate for the Legislature on the white ticket, and the +Governor had bent every effort to bring about his defeat. The candidate +against him was a young negro who had been a slave of his father, and now +called himself Andy Norton. Andy had been a house-servant, was exactly the +major's age and they had been playmates before the war. He was endowed with +a stentorian voice and a passion for oratory. He had acquired a reputation +for smartness, was good-natured, loud-mouthed, could tell a story, play the +banjo and amuse a crowd. He had been Norton's body-servant the first year +of the war. + +The Governor relied on Andy to swing a resistless tide of negro votes for +the ticket and sweep the county. Under ordinary conditions, he would have +done it. But before the hurricane of fury that swept the white race on the +day of the election, the voice of Andy was as one crying in the wilderness. + +He had made three speeches to his crowd of helpless black voters who hadn't +been able to vote. The Governor sent him an urgent message to mass his men +and force their way to the ballot box. + +The polling place was under a great oak that grew in the Square beside the +Court House. A space had been roped off to guard the approach to the boxes. +Since sunrise this space had been packed solid with a living wall of white +men. Occasionally a well-known old negro of good character was allowed to +pass through and vote and then the lines closed up in solid ranks. + +One by one a new white man was allowed to take his place in this wall and +gradually he was moved up to the tables on which the boxes rested, voted, +and slowly, like the movement of a glacier, the line crowded on in its +endless circle. + +The outer part of this wall of defense which the white race had erected +around the polling place was held throughout the day by the same +men--twenty or thirty big, stolid, dogged countrymen, who said nothing, but +every now and then winked at each other. + +When Andy received the Governor's message he decided to distinguish +himself. It was late in the day, but not too late perhaps to win by a +successful assault. He picked out twenty of his strongest buck negroes, +moved them quietly to a good position near the polls, formed them into a +flying wedge, and, leading the assault in person with a loud good-natured +laugh, he hurled them against the outer line of whites. + +To Andy's surprise the double line opened and yielded to his onset. He had +forced a dozen negroes into the ranks when to his surprise the white walls +suddenly closed on the blacks and held them as in a steel trap. + +And then, quick as a flash, something happened. It was a month before the +negroes found out exactly what it was. They didn't see it, they couldn't +hear it, but they knew it happened. They _felt_ it. + +And the silent swiftness with which it happened was appalling. Every negro +who had penetrated the white wall suddenly leaped into the air with a yell +of terror. The white line opened quickly and to a man the negro wedge broke +and ran for life, each black hand clasped in agony on the same spot. + +Andy's voice rang full and clear above his men's: + +"Goddermighty, what's dat!" + +"Dey shot us, man!" screamed a negro. + +The thing was simple, almost childlike in its silliness, but it was +tremendously effective. The white guard in the outer line had each been +armed with a little piece of shining steel three inches long, fixed in a +handle--a plain shoemaker's pegging awl. At a given signal they had wheeled +and thrust these awls into the thick flesh of every negro's thigh. + +The attack was so sudden, so unexpected, and the pain so sharp, so +terrible, for the moment every negro's soul was possessed with a single +idea, how to save his particular skin and do it quickest. All _esprit de +corps_ was gone. It was each for himself and the devil take the hindmost! +Some of them never stopped running until they cleared Buffalo creek, three +miles out of town. + +Andy's ambitions were given a violent turn in a new direction. Before the +polls closed at sundown he appeared at the office of the _Eagle and +Phoenix_ with a broad grin on his face and asked to see the major. + +He entered the editor's room bowing and scraping, his white teeth gleaming. + +Norton laughed and quietly said: + +"Well, Andy?" + +"Yassah, major, I des drap roun' ter kinder facilitate ye, sah, on de +'lection, sah." + +"It does look like the tide is turning, Andy." + +"Yassah, hit sho' is turnin', but hit's gotter be a purty quick tide dat +kin turn afore I does, sah." + +"Yes?" + +"Yassah! And I drap in, major, ter 'splain ter you dat I'se gwine ter +gently draw outen politics, yassah. I makes up my min' ter hitch up wid de +white folks agin. Brought up by de Nortons, sah, I'se always bin a gemman, +an' I can't afford to smut my hands wid de crowd dat I been 'sociating wid. +I'se glad you winnin' dis 'lection, sah, an' I'se glad you gwine ter de +Legislature--anyhow de office gwine ter stay in de Norton fambly--an' I'se +satisfied, sah. I know you gwine ter treat us far an' squar----" + +"If I'm elected I'll try to represent all the people, Andy," the major said +gravely. + +"If you'se 'lected?" Andy laughed. "Lawd, man, you'se dar right now! I kin +des see you settin' in one dem big chairs! I knowed it quick as I feel dat +thing pop fro my backbone des now! Yassah, I done resigned, an' I thought, +major, maybe you get a job 'bout de office or 'bout de house fer er young +likely nigger 'bout my size?" + +The editor smiled: + +"Nothing just now, Andy, but possibly I can find a place for you in a few +days." + +"Thankee, sah. I'll hold off den till you wants me. I'll des pick up er few +odd jobs till you say de word--you won't fergit me?" + +"No. I'll remember." + +"An', major, ef you kin des advance me 'bout er dollar on my wages now, I +kin cheer myself up ter-night wid er good dinner. Dese here loafers done +bust me. I hain't got er nickel lef!" + +The major laughed heartily and "advanced" his rival for Legislative honors +a dollar. + +Andy bowed to the floor: + +"Any time you'se ready, major, des lemme know, sah. You'll fin' me a handy +man 'bout de house, sah." + +"All right, Andy, I may need you soon." + +"Yassah, de sooner de better, sah," he paused in the door. "Dey gotter get +up soon in de mornin', sah, ter get erhead er us Nortons--yassah, dat dey +is----" + +A message, the first news of the election, cut Andy's gabble short. It +spelled Victory! One after another they came from every direction--north, +south, east and west--each bringing the same magic word--victory! victory! +A state redeemed from negroid corruption! A great state once more in the +hands of the children of the men who created it! + +It had only been necessary to use force to hold the polls from hordes of +ignorant negroes in the densest of the black counties. The white majorities +would be unprecedented. The enthusiasm had reached the pitch of mania in +these counties. They would all break records. + +A few daring men in the black centres of population, where negro rule was +at its worst, had guarded the polls under his direction armed with the +simple device of a shoemaker's awl, and in every case where it had been +used the resulting terror had cleared the place of every negro. In not a +single case where this novel weapon had been suddenly and mysteriously +thrust into a black skin was there an attempt to return to the polls. A +long-suffering people, driven at last to desperation, had met force with +force and wrested a commonwealth from the clutches of the vandals who were +looting and disgracing it. + +Now he would call the little Scalawag to the bar of justice. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE WORDS THAT COST + + +It was after midnight when Norton closed his desk and left for home. +Bonfires were burning in the squares, bands were playing and hundreds of +sober, gray-haired men were marching through the streets, hand in hand with +shouting boys, cheering, cheering, forever cheering! He had made three +speeches from the steps of the _Eagle and Phoenix_ building and the crowds +still stood there yelling his name and cheering. Broad-shouldered, bronzed +men had rushed into his office one by one that night, hugged him and wrung +his hands until they ached. He must have rest. The strain had been terrific +and in the reaction he was pitifully tired. + +The lights were still burning in his wife's room. She was waiting with Cleo +for his return. He had sent her the bulletins as they had come and she knew +the result of the election almost as soon as he. It was something very +unusual that she should remain up so late. The doctor had positively +forbidden it since her last attack. + +"Cleo and I were watching the procession," she exclaimed. "I never saw so +many crazy people since I was born." + +"They've had enough to drive them mad the past two years, God knows," he +answered, as his eye rested on Cleo, who was dressed in an old silk kimono +belonging to his wife, which a friend of her grandfather had sent her from +Japan. + +She saw his look of surprise and said casually: + +"I gave it to Cleo. I never liked the color. Cleo's to stay in the house +hereafter. I've moved her things from the servants' quarters to the little +room in the hall. I want her near me at night. You stay so late sometimes." + +He made no answer, but the keen eyes of the girl saw the silent rage +flashing from his eyes and caught the look of fierce determination as he +squared his shoulders and gazed at her for a moment. She knew that he would +put her out unless she could win his consent. She had made up her mind to +fight and never for a moment did she accept the possibility of defeat. + +He muttered an incoherent answer to his wife, kissed her good night, and +went to his room. He sat down in the moonlight beside the open window, +lighted a cigar and gazed out on the beautiful lawn. + +His soul raged in fury over the blind folly of his wife. If the devil +himself had ruled the world he could not have contrived more skillfully to +throw this dangerous, sensuous young animal in his way. It was horrible! He +felt himself suffocating with the thought of its possibilities! He rose and +paced the floor and sat down again in helpless rage. + +The door softly opened and closed and the girl stood before him in the +white moonlight, her rounded figure plainly showing against the shimmering +kimono as the breeze through the window pressed the delicate silk against +her flesh. + +He turned on her angrily: + +"How dare you?" + +[Illustration: "'How dare you?'"] + +"Why, I haven't done anything, major!" she answered softly. "I just came in +to pick up that basket of trash I forgot this morning"--she spoke in low, +lingering tones. + +He rose, walked in front of her, looked her in the eye and quietly said: + +"You're lying." + +"Why, major----" + +"You know that you are lying. Now get out of this room--and stay out of it, +do you hear?" + +"Yes, I hear," came the answer that was half a sob. + +"And make up your mind to leave this place to-morrow, or I'll put you out, +if I have to throw you head foremost into the street." + +She took a step backward, shook her head and the mass of tangled red hair +fell from its coil and dropped on her shoulders. Her eyes were watching him +now with dumb passionate yearning. + +"Get out!" he ordered brutally. + +A moment's silence and a low laugh was her answer. + +"Why do you hate me?" she asked the question with a note of triumph. + +"I don't," he replied with a sneer. + +"Then you're afraid of me!" + +"Afraid of you?" + +"Yes." + +He took another step and towered above her, his fists clenched and his +whole being trembled with anger: + +"I'd like to strangle you!" + +She flung back her rounded throat, shook the long waves of hair down her +back and lifted her eyes to his: + +"Do it! There's my throat! I want you to. I wouldn't mind dying that way!" + +He drew a deep breath and turned away. + +With a sob the straight figure suddenly crumpled on the floor, a scarlet +heap in the moonlight. She buried her face in her hands, choked back the +cries, fought for self-control, and then looked up at him through her eyes +half blinded by tears: + +"Oh, what's the use! I won't lie any more. I didn't come in here for the +basket. I came to see you. I came to beg you to let me stay. I watched you +to-night when she told you that I was to sleep in that room there, and I +knew you were going to send me away. Please don't! Please let me stay! I +can do you no harm, major! I'll be wise, humble, obedient. I'll live only +to please you. I haven't a single friend in the world. I hate negroes. I +loathe poor white trash. This is my place, here in your home, among the +birds and flowers, with your baby in my arms. You know that I love him and +that he loves me. I'll work for you as no one else on earth would. My hands +will be quick and my feet swift. I'll be your slave, your dog--you can kick +me, beat me, strangle me, kill me if you like, but don't send me away--I--I +can't help loving you! Please--please don't drive me away." + +The passionate, throbbing voice broke into a sob and she touched his foot +with her hand. He could feel the warmth of the soft, young flesh. He +stooped and drew her to her feet. + +"Come, child," he said with a queer hitch in his voice, "you--you--mustn't +stay here another moment. I'm sorry----" + +She clung to his hand with desperate pleading and pressed close to him: + +"But you won't send me away?" + +She could feel him trembling. + +He hesitated, and then against the warning of conscience, reason, judgment +and every instinct of law and self-preservation, he spoke the words that +cost so much: + +"No--I--I--won't send you away!" + +With a sob of gratitude her head sank, the hot lips touched his hand, a +rustle of silk and she was gone. + +And through every hour of the long night, maddened by the consciousness of +her physical nearness--he imagined at times he could hear her breathing in +the next room--he lay awake and fought the Beast for the mastery of life. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +MAN TO MAN + + +Cleo made good her vow of perfect service. In the weeks which followed she +made herself practically indispensable. Her energy was exhaustless, her +strength tireless. She not only kept the baby and the little mother happy, +she watched the lawn and the flowers. The men did no more loafing. The +grass was cut, the hedges trimmed, every dead limb from shrub and tree +removed and the old place began to smile with new life. + +Her work of housekeeper and maid-of-all-work was a marvel of efficiency. No +orders were ever given to her. They were unnecessary. She knew by an +unerring instinct what was needed and anticipated the need. + +And then a thing happened that fixed her place in the house on the firmest +basis. + +The baby had taken a violent cold which quickly developed into pneumonia. +The doctor looked at the little red fever-scorched face and parched lips +with grave silence. He spoke at last with positive conviction: + +"His life depends on a nurse, Norton. All I can do is to give orders. The +nurse must save him." + +With a sob in her voice, Cleo said: + +"Let me--I'll save him. He can't die if it depends on that." + +The doctor turned to the mother. + +"Can you trust her?" + +"Absolutely. She's quick, strong, faithful, careful, and she loves him." + +"You agree, major?" + +"Yes, we couldn't do better," he answered gravely, turning away. + +And so the precious life was given into her hands. Norton spent the +mornings in the nursery executing the doctor's orders with clock-like +regularity, while Cleo slept. At noon she quietly entered and took his +place. Her meals were served in the room and she never left it until he +relieved her the next day. The tireless, greenish eyes watched the cradle +with death-like stillness and her keen young ears bent low to catch every +change in the rising and falling of the little breast. Through the long +watches of the night, the quick alert figure with the velvet tread hurried +about the room filling every order with skill and patience. + +At the end of two weeks, the doctor smiled, patted her on the shoulder and +said: + +"You're a great nurse, little girl. You've saved his life." + +Her head was bending low over the cradle, the baby reached up his hand, +caught one of her red curls and lisped faintly: + +"C-l-e-o!" + +Her eyes were shining with tears as she rushed from the room and out on the +lawn to have her cry alone. There could be no question after this of her +position. + +When the new Legislature met in the old Capitol building four months later, +it was in the atmosphere of the crisp clearness that follows the storm. The +thieves and vultures had winged their way to more congenial climes. They +dared not face the investigation of their saturnalia which the restored +white race would make. The wisest among them fled northward on the night of +the election. + +The Governor couldn't run. His term of office had two years more to be +filled. And shivering in his room alone, shunned as a pariah, he awaited +the assault of his triumphant foes. + +And nothing succeeds like success. The brilliant young editor of the _Eagle +and Phoenix_ was the man of the hour. When he entered the hall of the House +of Representatives on the day the Assembly met, pandemonium broke loose. A +shout rose from the floor that fairly shook the old granite pile. Cheer +after cheer rent the air, echoed and re-echoed through the vaulted arches +of the hall. Men overturned their desks and chairs as they rushed pellmell +to seize his hand. They lifted him on their shoulders and carried him in +procession around the Assembly Chamber, through the corridors and around +the circle of the Rotunda, cheering like madmen, and on through the Senate +Chamber where every white Senator joined the procession and returned to the +other end of the Capitol singing "Dixie" and shouting themselves hoarse. + +He was elected Speaker of the House by his party without a dissenting +voice, and the first words that fell from his lips as he ascended the dais, +gazed over the cheering House, and rapped sharply for order, sounded the +death knell to the hopes of the Governor for a compromise with his enemies. +His voice rang clear and cold as the notes of a bugle: + +"The first business before this House, gentlemen, is the impeachment and +removal from office of the alleged Governor of this state!" + +Again the long pent feelings of an outraged people passed all bounds. In +vain the tall figure in the chair rapped for order. He had as well tried to +call a cyclone to order by hammering at it with a gavel. Shout after shout, +cheer after cheer, shout and cheer in apparently unending succession! + +They had not only won a great victory and redeemed a state's honor, but +they had found a leader who dared to lead in the work of cleansing and +rebuilding the old commonwealth. It was ten minutes before order could be +restored. And then with merciless precision the Speaker put in motion the +legal machine that was to crush the life out of the little Scalawag who sat +in his room below and listened to the roar of the storm over his head. + +On the day the historic trial opened before the high tribunal of the +Senate, sitting as judges, with the Chief Justice of the state as presiding +officer, the Governor looked in vain for a friendly face among his +accusers. Now that he was down, even the dogs in his own party whom he had +reared and fed, men who had waxed fat on the spoils he had thrown them, +were barking at his heels. They accused him of being the cause of the +party's downfall. + +The Governor had quickly made up his mind to ask no favors of these +wretches. If the blow should fall, he knew to whom he would appeal that it +might be tempered with mercy. The men of his discredited party were of his +own type. His only chance lay in the generosity of a great foe. + +It would be a bitter thing to beg a favor at the hands of the editor who +had hounded him with his merciless pen from the day he had entered office, +but it would be easier than an appeal to the ungrateful hounds of his own +kennel who had deserted him in his hour of need. + +The Bill of Impeachment which charged him with high crimes and misdemeanors +against the people whose rights he had sworn to defend was drawn by the +Speaker of the House, and it was a terrible document. It would not only +deprive him of his great office, but strip him of citizenship, and send him +from the Capitol a branded man for life. + +The defense proved weak and the terrific assaults of the Impeachment +managers under Norton's leadership resistless. Step by step the remorseless +prosecutors closed in on the doomed culprit. Each day he sat in his place +beside his counsel in the thronged Senate Chamber and heard his judges vote +with practical unanimity "Guilty" on a new count in the Bill of +Impeachment. The Chief Executive of a million people cowered in his seat +while his accusers told and re-told the story of his crimes and the packed +galleries cheered. + +But one clause of the bill remained to be adjudged--the brand his accusers +proposed to put upon his forehead. His final penalty should be the loss of +citizenship. It was more than the Governor could bear. He begged an +adjournment of the High Court for a conference with his attorneys and it +was granted. + +He immediately sought the Speaker, who made no effort to conceal the +contempt in which he held the trembling petitioner. + +"I've come to you, Major Norton," he began falteringly, "in the darkest +hour of my life. I've come because I know that you are a brave and generous +man. I appeal to your generosity. I've made mistakes in my administration. +But I ask you to remember that few men in my place could have done better. +I was set to make bricks without straw. I was told to make water run up +hill and set at naught the law of gravitation. + +"I struck at you personally--yes--but remember my provocation. You made me +the target of your merciless ridicule, wit and invective for two years. It +was more than flesh and blood could bear without a return blow. Put +yourself in my place----" + +"I've tried, Governor," Norton interrupted in kindly tones. "And it's +inconceivable to me that any man born and bred as you have been, among the +best people of the South, a man whose fiery speeches in the Secession +Convention helped to plunge this state into civil war--how you could basely +betray your own flesh and blood in the hour of their sorest need--it's +beyond me! I can't understand it. I've tried to put myself in your place +and I can't." + +The little ferret eyes were dim as he edged toward the tall figure of his +accuser: + +"I'm not asking of you mercy, Major Norton, on the main issue. I understand +the bitterness in the hearts of these men who sit as my judges to-day. I +make no fight to retain the office of Governor, but--major"--his thin voice +broke--"it's too hard to brand me a criminal by depriving me of my +citizenship and the right to vote, and hurl me from the highest office +within the gift of a great people a nameless thing, a man without a +country! Come, sir, even if all you say is true, justice may be tempered +with mercy. Great minds can understand this. You are the representative +to-day of a brave and generous race of men. My life is in ruins--I am at +your feet. I have pride. I had high ambitions----" + +His voice broke, he paused, and then continued in strained tones: + +"I have loved ones to whom this shame will come as a bolt from the clear +sky. They know nothing of politics. They simply love me. This final +ignominy you would heap on my head may be just from your point of view. But +is it necessary? Can it serve any good purpose? Is it not mere wanton +cruelty? + +"Come now, man to man--our masks are off--my day is done. You are young. +The world is yours. This last blow with which you would crush my spirit is +too cruel! Can you afford an act of such wanton cruelty in the hour of your +triumph? A small man could, yes--but you? I appeal to the best that's in +you, to the spark of God that's in every human soul----" + +Norton was deeply touched, far more than he dreamed any word from the man +he hated could ever stir him. The Governor saw his hesitation and pressed +his cause: + +"I might say many things honestly in justification of my course in +politics; but the time has not come. When passions have cooled and we can +look the stirring events of these years squarely in the face--there'll be +two sides to this question, major, as there are two sides to all questions. +I might say to you that when I saw the frightful blunder I had made in +helping to plunge our country into a fatal war, I tried to make good my +mistake and went to the other extreme. I was ambitious, yes, but we are +confronted with millions of ignorant negroes. What can we do with them? +Slavery had an answer. Democracy now must give the true answer or +perish----" + +"That answer will never be to set these negroes up as rulers over white +men!" + +Norton raised his hand and spoke with bitter emphasis. + +"Even so, in a Democracy with equality as the one fundamental law of life, +what are you going to do with them? I could plead with you that in every +act of my ill-fated administration I was honestly, in the fear of God, +trying to meet and solve this apparently insoluble problem. You are now in +power. What are you going to do with these negroes?" + +"Send them back to the plow first," was the quick answer. + +"All right; when they have bought those farms and their sons and daughters +are rich and cultured--what then?" + +"We'll answer that question, Governor, when the time comes." + +"Remember, major, that you have no answer to it now, and in the pride of +your heart to-day let me suggest that you deal charitably with one who +honestly tried to find the answer when called to rule over both races. + +"I have failed, I grant you. I have made mistakes, I grant you. Won't you +accept my humility in this hour in part atonement for my mistakes? I stand +alone before you, my bitterest and most powerful enemy, because I believe +in the strength and nobility of your character. You are my only hope. I am +before you, broken, crushed, humiliated, deserted, friendless--at your +mercy!" + +The last appeal stirred the soul of the young editor to its depths. He was +surprised and shocked to find the man he had so long ridiculed and hated +so thoroughly, human and appealing in his hour of need. + +He spoke with a kindly deliberation he had never dreamed it possible to use +with this man. + +"I'm sorry for you, Governor. Your appeal is to me a very eloquent one. It +has opened a new view of your character. I can never again say bitter, +merciless things about you in my paper. You have disarmed me. But as the +leader of my race, in the crisis through which we are passing, I feel that +a great responsibility has been placed on me. Now that we have met, with +bared souls in this solemn hour, let me say that I have learned to like you +better than I ever thought it possible. But I am to-day a judge who must +make his decision, remembering that the lives and liberties of all the +people are in his keeping when he pronounces the sentence of law. A judge +has no right to spare a man who has taken human life because he is sorry +for the prisoner. I have no right, as a leader, to suspend this penalty on +you. Your act in destroying the civil law, arresting men without warrant +and holding them by military force without bail or date of trial, was, in +my judgment, a crime of the highest rank, not merely against me--one +individual whom you happened to hate--but against every man, woman and +child in the state. Unless that crime is punished another man, as daring in +high office, may repeat it in the future. I hold in my hands to-day not +only the lives and liberties of the people you have wronged, but of +generations yet unborn. Now that I have heard you, personally I am sorry +for you, but the law must take its course." + +"You will deprive me of my citizenship?" he asked pathetically. + +"It is my solemn duty. And when it is done no Governor will ever again dare +to repeat your crime." + +Norton turned away and the Governor laid his trembling hand on his arm: + +"Your decision is absolutely final, Major Norton?" + +"Absolutely," was the firm reply. + +The Governor's shoulders drooped lower as he shuffled from the room and his +eyes were fixed on space as he pushed his way through the hostile crowds +that filled the corridors of the Capitol. + +The Court immediately reassembled and the Speaker rose to make his motion +for a vote on the last count in the bill depriving the Chief Executive of +the state of his citizenship. + +The silence was intense. The crowds that packed the lobby, the galleries, +and every inch of the floor of the Senate Chamber expected a fierce speech +of impassioned eloquence from their idolized leader. Every neck was craned +and breath held for his first ringing words. + +To their surprise he began speaking in a low voice choking with emotion and +merely demanded a vote of the Senate on the final clause of the bill, and +the brown eyes of the tall orator had a suspicious look of moisture in +their depths as they rested on the forlorn figure of the little Scalawag. +The crowd caught the spirit of solemnity and of pathos from the speaker's +voice and the vote was taken amid a silence that was painful. + +When the Clerk announced the result and the Chief Justice of the state +declared the office of Governor vacant there was no demonstration. As the +Lieutenant-Governor ascended the dais and took the oath of office, the +Scalawag rose and staggered through the crowd that opened with a look of +awed pity as he passed from the chamber. + +Norton stepped to the window behind the President of the Senate and watched +the pathetic figure shuffle down the steps of the Capitol and slowly walk +from the grounds. The sun was shining in the radiant splendor of early +spring. The first flowers were blooming in the hedges by the walk and birds +were chirping, chattering and singing from every tree and shrub. A squirrel +started across the path in front of the drooping figure, stopped, cocked +his little head to one side, looked up and ran to cover. But the man with +drooping shoulders saw nothing. His dim eyes were peering into the shrouded +future. + +Norton was deeply moved. + +"The judgment of posterity may deal kindlier with his life!" he exclaimed. +"Who knows? A politician, a trimmer and a time-server--yes, so we all are +down in our cowardly hearts--I'm sorry that it had to be!" + +He was thinking of a skeleton in his own closet that grinned at him +sometimes now when he least expected it. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE UNBIDDEN GUEST + + +The night was a memorable one in Norton's life. The members of the +Legislature and the leaders of his party from every quarter of the state +gave a banquet in his honor in the Hall of the House of Representatives. +Eight hundred guests, the flower and chivalry of the Commonwealth, sat down +at the eighty tables improvised for the occasion. + +Fifty leading men were guests of honor and vied with one another in +acclaiming the brilliant young Speaker the coming statesman of the Nation. +His name was linked with Hamilton, Jefferson, Webster, Clay and Calhoun. He +was the youngest man who had ever been elected Speaker of a Legislative +Assembly in American history and a dazzling career was predicted. + +Even the newly installed Chief Executive, a hold-over from the defeated +party, asked to be given a seat and in a glowing tribute to Norton hailed +him as the next Governor of the state. + +He had scarcely uttered the words when all the guests leaped to their feet +by a common impulse, raised their glasses and shouted: + +"To our next Governor, Daniel Norton!" + +The cheers which followed were not arranged, they were the spontaneous +outburst of genuine admiration by men and women who knew the man and +believed in his power and his worth. + +Norton flushed and his eyes dropped. His daring mind had already leaped the +years. The Governor's chair meant the next step--a seat in the Senate +Chamber of the United States. A quarter of a century and the South would +once more come into her own. He would then be but forty-nine years old. He +would have as good a chance for the Presidency as any other man. His +fathers had been of the stock that created the Nation. His +great-grandfather fought with Washington and Lafayette. His head was +swimming with its visions, while the great Hall rang with his name. + +While the tumult was still at its highest, he lifted his eyes for a moment +over the heads of the throng at the tables below the platform on which the +guests of honor were seated, and his heart suddenly stood still. + +Cleo was standing in the door of the Hall, a haunted look in her dilated +eyes, watching her chance to beckon to him unseen by the crowd. + +He stared at her a moment in blank amazement and turned pale. Something had +happened at his home, and by the expression on her face the message she +bore was one he would never forget. + +As he sat staring blankly, as at a sudden apparition, she disappeared in +the crowd at the door. He looked in vain for her reappearance and was +waiting an opportune moment to leave, when a waiter slipped through the +mass of palms and flowers banked behind his chair by his admirers and +thrust a crumpled note into his hand. + +"The girl said it was important, sir," he explained. + +Norton opened the message and held it under the banquet table as he +hurriedly read in Cleo's hand: + +"It's found out--she's raving. The doctor is there. I must see you quick." + + * * * * * + +He whispered to the chairman that a message had just been received +announcing the illness of his wife, but he hoped to be able to return in a +few minutes. + +It was known that his wife was an invalid and had often been stricken with +violent attacks of hysteria, and so the banquet proceeded without +interruption. The band was asked to play a stirring piece and he slipped +out as the opening strains burst over the chattering, gay crowd. + +As his tall figure rose from the seat of honor he gazed for an instant over +the sparkling scene, and for the first time in his life knew the meaning of +the word fear. A sickening horror swept his soul and the fire died from +eyes that had a moment before blazed with visions of ambition. He felt the +earth crumbling beneath his feet. He hoped for a way out, but from the +moment he saw Cleo beckoning him over the heads of his guests he knew that +Death had called him in the hour of his triumph. + +He felt his way blindly through the crowd and pushed roughly past a hundred +hands extended to congratulate him. He walked by instinct. He couldn't see. +The mists of eternity seemed suddenly to have swept him beyond the range of +time and sense. + +In the hall he stumbled against Cleo and looked at her in a dazed way. + +"Get your hat," she whispered. + +He returned to the cloakroom, got his hat and hurried back in the same dull +stupor. + +"Come down stairs into the Square," she said quickly. + +He followed her without a word, and when they reached the shadows of an oak +below the windows of the Hall, he suddenly roused himself, turned on her +fiercely and demanded: + +"Well, what's happened?" + +The girl was calm now, away from the crowd and guarded by the friendly +night. Her words were cool and touched with the least suggestion of +bravado. She looked at him steadily: + +"I reckon you know----" + +"You mean----" He felt for the tree trunk as if dizzy. + +"Yes. She has found out----" + +"What--how--when?" His words came in gasps of fear. + +"About us----" + +"How?" + +"It was mammy. She was wild with jealousy that I had taken her place and +was allowed to sleep in the house. She got to slipping to the nursery at +night and watching me. She must have seen me one night at your room door +and told her to get rid of me." + +The man suddenly gripped the girl's shoulders, swung her face toward him +and gazed into her shifting eyes, while his breath came in labored gasps: + +"You little yellow devil! Mammy never told that to my wife and you know it; +she would have told me and I would have sent you away. She knows that story +would kill my baby's mother and she'd have cut the tongue out of her own +head sooner than betray me. She has always loved me as her own child--she'd +fight for me and die for me and stand for me against every man, woman and +child on earth!" + +"Well, she told her," the girl sullenly repeated. + +"Told her what?" he asked. + +"That I was hanging around your room." She paused. + +"Well, go on----" + +"Miss Jean asked me if it was true. I saw that we were caught and I just +confessed the whole thing----" + +The man sprang at her throat, paused, and his hands fell limp by his side. +He gazed at her a moment, and grasped her wrists with cruel force: + +"Yes, that's it, you little fiend--you confessed! You were so afraid you +might not be forced to confess that you went out of your way to tell it. +Two months ago I came to my senses and put you out of my life. You +deliberately tried to commit murder to bring me back. You knew that +confession would kill my wife as surely as if you had plunged a knife into +her heart. You know that she has the mind of an innocent child--that she +can think no evil of any one. You've tried to kill her on purpose, +willfully, maliciously, deliberately--and if she dies----" + +Norton's voice choked into an inarticulate groan and the girl smiled +calmly. + +The band in the Hall over their heads ended the music in a triumphant crash +and he listened mechanically to the chairman while he announced the +temporary absence of the guest of honor: + +"And while he is out of the Hall for a few minutes, ladies and gentlemen," +he added facetiously, "we can say a lot of fine things behind his back we +would have blushed to tell him to his face----" + +Another burst of applause and the hum and chatter and laughter came through +the open window. + +With a cry of anguish, the man turned again on the girl: + +"Why do you stand there grinning at me? Why did you do this fiendish thing? +What have you to say?" + +"Nothing"--there was a ring of exultation in her voice--"I did it because I +had to." + +Norton leaned against the oak, placed his hands on his temples and groaned: + +"Oh, my God! It's a nightmare----" + +Suddenly he asked: + +"What did she do when you told her?" + +The girl answered with indifference: + +"Screamed, called me a liar, jumped on me like a wild-cat, dug her nails in +my neck and went into hysterics." + +"And you?" + +"I picked her up, carried her to bed and sent for the doctor. As quick as +he came I ran here to tell you." + +The speaker upstairs was again announcing his name as the next Governor and +Senator and the crowd were cheering. He felt the waves of Death roll over +and engulf him. His knees grew weak and in spite of all effort he sank to a +stone that lay against the gnarled trunk of the tree. + +"She may be dead now," he said to himself in a dazed whisper. + +"I don't think so!" the soft voice purred with the slightest suggestion of +a sneer. She bit her lips and actually laughed. It was more than he could +bear. With a sudden leap his hands closed on her throat and forced her +trembling form back into the shadows. + +"May--God--hurl--you--into--everlasting--hell--for--this!" he cried in +anguish and his grip suddenly relaxed. + +The girl had not struggled. Her own hand had simply been raised +instinctively and grasped his. + +"What shall I do?" she asked. + +"Get out of my sight before I kill you!" + +"I'm not afraid." + +The calm accents maddened him to uncontrollable fury: + +"And if you ever put your foot into my house again or cross my path, I'll +not be responsible for what happens!" + +His face was livid and his fists closed with an unconscious strength that +cut the blood from the palms of his hands. + +"I'm not afraid!" she repeated, her voice rising with clear assurance, a +strange smile playing about her full lips. + +"Go!" he said fiercely. + +The girl turned without a word and walked into the bright light that +streamed from the windows of the banquet hall, paused and looked at him, +the white rows of teeth shining with a smile: + +"But I'll see you again!" + +And then, with shouts of triumph mocking his soul, his shoulders drooped, +drunk with the stupor and pain of shame, he walked blindly through the +night to the Judgment Bar of Life--a home where a sobbing wife waited for +his coming. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE JUDGMENT BAR + + +He paused at the gate. His legs for the moment simply refused to go any +further. A light was burning in his wife's room. Its radiance streaming +against the white fluted columns threw their shadows far out on the lawn. + +The fine old house seemed to slowly melt in the starlight into a solemn +Court of Justice set on the highest hill of the world. Its white boards +were hewn slabs of gleaming marble, its quaint old Colonial door the grand +entrance to the Judgment Hall of Life and Death. And the judge who sat on +the high dais was not the blind figure of tradition, but a blushing little +bride he had led to God's altar four years ago. Her blue eyes were burning +into the depths of his trembling soul. + +His hand gripped the post and he tried to pull himself together, and look +the ugly situation in the face. But it was too sudden. He had repented and +was living a clean life, and the shock was so unexpected, its coming so +unforeseen, the stroke at a moment when his spirits had climbed so high, +the fall was too great. He lay a mangled heap at the foot of a precipice +and could as yet only stretch out lame hands and feel in the dark. He could +see nothing clearly. + +A curious thing flashed through his benumbed mind as his gaze fascinated +by the light in her room. She had not yet sent for him. He might have +passed a messenger on the other side of the street, or he may have gone to +the Capitol by another way, yet he was somehow morally sure that no word +had as yet been sent. It could mean but one thing--that his wife had +utterly refused to believe the girl's story. This would make the only sane +thing to do almost impossible. If he could humbly confess the truth and beg +for her forgiveness, the cloud might be lifted and her life saved. + +But if she blindly refused to admit the possibility of such a sin, the +crisis was one that sickened him. He would either be compelled to risk her +life with the shock of confession, or lie to her with a shameless passion +that would convince her of his innocence. + +Could he do this? It was doubtful. He had never been a good liar. He had +taken many a whipping as a boy sooner than lie. He had always dared to tell +the truth and had felt a cruel free joy somehow in its consequence. He had +been reserved and silent in his youth when he had sowed his wild oats +before his marriage. He had never been forced to lie about that. No +questions had been asked. He had kept his own counsel and that side of his +life was a sealed book even to his most intimate friends. + +He had never been under the influence of liquor and knew how to be a good +fellow without being a fool. The first big lie of his life he was forced to +act rather than speak when Cleo had entered his life. This lie had not yet +shaped itself into words. And he doubted his ability to carry it off +successfully. To speak the truth simply and plainly had become an ingrained +habit. He trembled at the possibility of being compelled to deliberately +and continuously lie to his wife. If he could only tell her the truth--tell +her the hours of anguish he had passed in struggling against the Beast that +at last had won the fight--if he could only make her feel to-night the +pain, the shame, the loathing, the rage that filled his soul, she must +forgive. + +But would she listen? Had the child-mind that had never faced realities the +power to adjust itself to such a tragedy and see life in its wider +relations of sin and sorrow, of repentance and struggle to the achievement +of character? There was but one answer: + +"No. It would kill her. She can't understand----" + +And then despair gripped him, his eyes grew dim and he couldn't think. He +leaned heavily on the gate in a sickening stupor from which his mind slowly +emerged and his fancy began to play pranks with an imagination suddenly +quickened by suffering into extraordinary activity. + +A katydid was crying somewhere over his head and a whip-poor-will broke the +stillness with his weird call that seemed to rise from the ground under his +feet. He was a boy again roaming the fields where stalwart slaves were +working his father's plantation. It was just such a day in early spring +when he had persuaded Andy to run away with him and go swimming in Buffalo +creek. He had caught cold and they both got a whipping that night. He +remembered how Andy had yelled so loud his father had stopped. And how he +had set his little jaws together, refused to cry and received the worst +whipping of his life. He could hear Andy now as he slipped up to him +afterward, grinning and chuckling and whispered: + +"Lordy, man, why didn't ye holler? You don't know how ter take er whippin' +nohow. He nebber hurt me no mo' dan a flea bitin'!" + +And then his mind leaped the years. Cleo was in his arms that night at old +Peeler's and he was stroking her hair as he would have smoothed the fur of +a frightened kitten. That strange impulse was the beginning--he could see +it now--and it had grown with daily contact, until the contagious animal +magnetism of her nearness became resistless. And now he stood a shivering +coward in the dark, afraid to enter his own house and look his wife in the +face. + +Yes, he was a coward. He acknowledged it with a grim smile--a coward! This +boastful, high-strung, self-poised leader of men! He drew his tall figure +erect and a bitter laugh broke from his lips. He who had led men to death +on battlefields with a smile and a shout! He who had cried in anguish the +day Lee surrendered! He who, in defeat, still indomitable and unconquered, +had fired the souls of his ruined people and led them through riot and +revolution again to victory!--He was a coward now and he knew it, as he +stood there alone in the stillness of the Southern night and looked himself +squarely in the face. + +His heart gave a throb of pity as he recalled the scenes during the war, +when deserters and cowards had been led out in the gray dawn and shot to +death for something they couldn't help. + +It must be a dream. He couldn't realize the truth--grim, hideous and +unthinkable. He had won every fight as the leader of his race against +overwhelming odds. He had subdued the desperate and lawless among his own +men until his word was law. He had rallied the shattered forces of a +defeated people and inspired them with enthusiasm. He had overturned the +negroid government in the state though backed by a million bayonets in the +hands of veteran battle-tried soldiers. He had crushed the man who led +these forces, impeached and removed him from office, and hurled him into +merited oblivion, a man without a country. He had made himself the central +figure of the commonwealth. In the dawn of manhood he had lived already a +man's full life. A conquered world at his feet, and yet a little yellow, +red-haired girl of the race he despised, in the supreme hour of triumph had +laid his life in ruins. He had conquered all save the Beast within and he +must die for it--it was only a morbid fancy, yes--yet he felt the chill in +his soul. + +How long he had stood there doubting, fearing, dreaming, he could form no +idea. He was suddenly roused to the consciousness of his position by the +doctor who was hurrying from the house. There was genuine surprise in his +voice as he spoke slowly and in a very low tone. + +Dr. Williams had the habit of slow, quiet speech. He was a privileged +character in the town and the state, with the record of a half century of +practice. A man of wide reading and genuine culture, he concealed a big +heart beneath a brutal way of expressing his thoughts. He said exactly what +he meant with a distinctness that was all the more startling because of his +curious habit of speaking harsh things in tones so softly modulated that +his hearers frequently asked him to repeat his words. + +"I had just started to the banquet hall with a message for you," he said +slowly. + +"Yes--yes," Norton answered vaguely. + +"But I see you've come--Cleo told you?" + +"Yes--she came to the hall----" + +The doctor's slender fingers touched his fine gray beard. + +"Really! She entered that hall to-night? Well, it's a funny world, this. We +spend our time and energy fighting the negro race in front and leave our +back doors open for their women and children to enter and master our life. +I congratulate you as a politician on your victory----" + +Norton lifted his hand as if to ward off a blow: + +"Please! not to-night!" + +The doctor caught the look of agony in the haggard face and suddenly +extended his hand: + +"I wasn't thinking of your personal history, my boy. I was--I was thinking +for a moment of the folly of a people--forgive me--I know you need help +to-night. You must pull yourself together before you go in there----" + +"Yes, I know!" Norton faltered. "You have seen my wife and talked with +her--you can see things clearer than I--tell me what to do!" + +"There's but one thing you can do," was the gentle answer. "Lie to +her--lie--and stick to it. Lie skillfully, carefully, deliberately, and +with such sincerity and conviction she's got to believe you. She wants to +believe you, of course. I know you are guilty----" + +"Let me tell you, doctor----" + +"No, you needn't. It's an old story. The more powerful the man the easier +his conquest when once the female animal of Cleo's race has her chance. +It's enough to make the devil laugh to hear your politicians howl against +social and political equality while this cancer is eating the heart out of +our society. It makes me sick! And she went to your banquet hall to-night! +I'll laugh over it when I'm blue----" + +The doctor paused, laughed softly, and continued: + +"Now listen, Norton. Your wife can't live unless she wills to live. I've +told you this before. The moment she gives up, she dies. It's the iron will +inside her frail body that holds the spirit. If she knows the truth, she +can't face it. She is narrow, conventional, and can't readjust herself----" + +"But doctor, can't she be made to realize that this thing is here a living +fact which the white woman of the South must face? These hundreds of +thousands of a mixed race are not accidents. She must know that this racial +degradation is not merely a thing of to-day, but the heritage of two +hundred years of sin and sorrow!" + +"The older women know this--yes--but not our younger generation, who have +been reared in the fierce defense of slavery we were forced to make before +the war. These things were not to be talked about. No girl reared as your +wife can conceive of the possibility of a decent man falling so low. I warn +you. You can't let her know the truth--and so the only thing you can do is +to lie and stick to it. It's queer advice for a doctor to give an honorable +man, perhaps. But life is full of paradoxes. My advice is medicine. Our +best medicines are the most deadly poisons in nature. I've saved many a +man's life by their use. This happens to be one of the cases where I +prescribe a poison. Put the responsibility on me if you like. My shoulders +are broad. I live close to Nature and the prattle of fools never disturbs +me." + +"Is she still hysterical?" Norton asked. + +"No. That's the strange part of it--the thing that frightens me. That's why +I haven't left her side since I was called. Her outburst wasn't hysteria in +the first place. It was rage--the blind unreasoning fury of the woman who +sees her possible rival and wishes to kill her. You'll find her very quiet. +There's a queer, still look in her eyes I don't like. It's the calm before +the storm--a storm that may leave death in its trail----" + +"Couldn't I deny it at first," Norton interrupted, "and then make my plea +to her in an appeal for mercy on an imaginary case? God only knows what +I've gone through--the fight I made----" + +"Yes, I know, my boy, with that young animal playing at your feet in +physical touch with your soul and body in the intimacies of your home, you +never had a chance. But you can't make your wife see this. An angel from +heaven, with tongue of divine eloquence, can make no impression on her if +she once believes you guilty. Don't tell her--and may God have mercy on +your soul to-night!" + +With a pressure on the younger man's arm, the straight white figure of the +old doctor passed through the gate. + +Norton walked quickly to the steps of the spacious, pillared porch, stopped +and turned again into the lawn. He sat down on a rustic seat and tried +desperately to work out what he would say, and always the gray mist of a +fog of despair closed in. + +For the first time in his life he was confronted squarely with the fact +that the whole structure of society is enfolded in a network of +interminable lies. His wife had been reared from the cradle in the +atmosphere of beauty and innocence. She believed in the innocence of her +father, her brothers, and every man who moved in her circle. Above all, she +believed in the innocence of her husband. The fact that the negro race had +for two hundred years been stirring the baser passions of her men--that +this degradation of the higher race had been bred into the bone and sinew +of succeeding generations--had never occurred to her childlike mind. How +hopeless the task to tell her now when the tragic story must shatter her +own ideals! + +The very thought brought a cry of agony to his lips: + +"God in heaven--what can I do?" + +He looked helplessly at the stream of light from her window and turned +again toward the cool, friendly darkness. + +The night was one of marvellous stillness. The band was playing again in +his banquet hall at the Capitol. So still was the night he could hear +distinctly the softer strains of the stringed instruments, faint, sweet and +thrilling, as they floated over the sleepy old town. A mocking-bird above +him wakened by the call of melody answered, tenderly at first, and then, +with the crash of cornet and drum, his voice swelled into a flood of +wonderful song. + +With a groan of pain, Norton rose and walked rapidly into the house. His +bird-dog lay on the mat outside the door and sprang forward with a joyous +whine to meet him. + +He stooped and drew the shaggy setter's head against his hot cheek. + +"I need a friend, to-night, Don, old boy!" he said tenderly. And Don +answered with an eloquent wag of his tail and a gentle nudge of his nose. + +"If you were only my judge!--Bah, what's the use----" + +He drew his drooping shoulders erect and entered his wife's room. Her eyes +were shining with peculiar brightness, but otherwise she seemed unusually +calm. She began speaking with quick nervous energy: + +"Dr. Williams told you?" + +"Yes, and I came at once." He answered with an unusually firm and clear +note of strength. His whole being was keyed now to a high tension of alert +decision. He saw that the doctor's way was the only one. + +"I don't ask you, Dan," she went on with increasing excitement and a touch +of scorn in her voice--"I don't ask you to deny this lie. What I want to +know is the motive the little devil had in saying such a thing to me. +Mammy, in her jealousy, merely told me she was hanging around your room too +often. I asked her if it were true. She looked at me a moment and burst +into her lying 'confession.' I could have killed her. I did try to tear her +green eyes out. I knew that you hated her and tried to put her out of the +house, and I thought she had taken this way to get even with you--but it +doesn't seem possible. And then I thought the Governor might have taken +this way to strike you. He knows old Peeler, the low miserable scoundrel, +who is her father. Do you think it possible?" + +"I--don't--know," he stammered, moistening his lips and turning away. + +"Yet it's possible"--she insisted. + +He saw the chance to confirm this impression by a cheap lie--to invent a +story of old Peeler's intimacy with the Governor, of his attempt to marry +Lucy, of his hatred of the policy of the paper, his fear of the Klan and +of his treacherous, cowardly nature--yet the lie seemed so cheap and +contemptible his lips refused to move. If he were going to carry out the +doctor's orders here was his chance. He struggled to speak and couldn't. +The habit of a life and the fibre of character were too strong. So he did +the fatal thing at the moment of crisis. + +"I don't think that possible," he said. + +"Why not?" + +"Well, you see, since I rescued old Peeler that night from those boys, he +has been so abjectly grateful I've had to put him out of my office once or +twice, and I'm sure he voted for me for the Legislature against his own +party." + +"He voted for you?" she asked in surprise. + +"He told me so. He may have lied, of course, but I don't think he did." + +"Then what could have been her motive?" + +His teeth were chattering in spite of a desperate effort to think clearly +and speak intelligently. He stared at a picture on the wall and made no +reply. + +"Say something--answer my question!" his wife cried excitedly. + +"I have answered, my dear. I said I don't know. I'm stunned by the whole +thing." + +"You are _stunned_?" + +"Yes----" + +"Stunned? You, a strong, innocent man, stunned by a weak contemptible lie +like this from the lips of such a girl--what do you mean?" + +"Why, that I was naturally shocked to be called out of a banquet at such a +moment by such an accusation. She actually beckoned to me from the door +over the heads of the guests----" + +The little blue eyes suddenly narrowed and the thin lips grew hard: + +"Cleo called you from the door?" she asked. + +"Yes." + +"You left the hall to see her there?" + +"No, I went down stairs." + +"Into the Capitol Square?" + +"Yes. I couldn't well talk to her before all those guests----" + +"Why not?" + +The question came like the crack of a pistol. Her voice was high, cold, +metallic, ringing. He saw, when too late, that he had made a fatal mistake. +He stammered, reddened and then turned pale: + +"Why--why--naturally----" + +"If you are innocent--why not?" + +He made a desperate effort to find a place of safety: + +"I thought it wise to go down stairs where I could talk without +interruption----" + +"You--were--afraid," she was speaking each word now with cold, deadly +deliberation, "to take-a-message-from-your-servant-at-the-door-of-a-public +banquet-hall----" her words quickened--"then you suspected her possible +message! There _was_ something between you----" + +"My dear, I beg of you----" + +He turned his head away with a weary gesture. + +She sprang from the side of the bed, leaped to his side, seized him by both +arms and fairly screamed in his face: + +"Look at me, Dan!" + +He turned quickly, his haggard eyes stared into hers, and she looked with +slowly dawning horror. + +"Oh, my God!" she shrieked. "It's true--it's true--it's true!" + +She sprang back with a shiver of loathing, covered her face with her hands +and staggered to her bed, sobbing hysterically: + +"It's true--it's true--it's true! Have mercy, Lord!--it's true--it's true!" +She fell face downward, her frail figure quivering like a leaf in a storm. + +He rushed to her side, crying in terror: + +"It's not true--it's not true, my dear! Don't believe it. I swear it's a +lie--it's a lie--I tell you!" + +She was crying in sobs of utter anguish. + +He bent low: + +"It's not true, dearest! It's not true, I tell you. You mustn't believe it. +You can't believe it when I swear to you that it's a lie----" + +His head gently touched her slender shoulder. + +She flinched as if scorched by a flame, sprang to her feet, and faced him +with blazing eyes: + +"Don't--you--dare--touch--me----" + +"My dear," he pleaded. + +"Don't speak to me again!" + +"Please----" + +"Get out of this room!" + +He stood rooted to the spot in helpless stupor and she threw her little +body against his with sudden fury, pushing him toward the door. "Get out, I +say!" + +He staggered back helplessly and awkwardly amazed at her strength as she +pushed him into the hall. She stood a moment towering in the white frame of +the door, the picture of an avenging angel to his tormented soul. Through +teeth chattering with hysterical emotion she cried: + +"Go, you leper! And don't you ever dare to cross this door-sill again--not +even to look on my dead face!" + +"For God's sake, don't!" he gasped, staggering toward her. + +But the door slammed in his face and the bolt suddenly shot into its place. + +He knocked gently and received no answer. An ominous stillness reigned +within. He called again and again without response. He waited patiently for +half an hour and knocked once more. An agony of fear chilled him. She might +be dead. He knelt, pressed his ear close to the keyhole and heard a long, +low, pitiful sob from her bed. + +"Thank God----" + +He rose with sudden determination. She couldn't be left like that. He would +call the doctor back at once, and, what was better still, he would bring +her mother, a wise gray-haired little saint, who rarely volunteered advice +in her daughter's affairs. The door would fly open at her soft command. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +AN OLD STORY + + +The doctor's house lay beyond the Capitol and in his haste Norton forgot +that a banquet was being held in his honor. He found himself suddenly face +to face with the first of the departing guests as they began to pour +through the gates of the Square. + +He couldn't face these people, turned in his tracks, walked back to the +next block and hurried into an obscure side street by which he could avoid +them. + +The doctor had not retired. He was seated on his porch quietly smoking, as +if he were expecting the call. + +"Well, you've bungled it, I see," he said simply, as he rose and seized his +hat. + +"Yes, she guessed the truth----" + +"Guessed?--hardly." The white head with its shining hair slowly wagged. +"She read it in those haggard eyes. Funny what poor liars your people have +always been! If your father hadn't been fool enough to tell the truth with +such habitual persistence, that office of his would never have been burned +during the war. It's a funny world. It's the fun of it that keeps us alive, +after all." + +"Do the best you can for me, doctor," he interrupted. "I'm going for her +mother." + +"All right," was the cheery answer, "bring her at once. She's a better +doctor than I to-night." + +Norton walked swiftly toward a vine-clad cottage that stood beside Governor +Carteret's place. It sat far back on the lawn that was once a part of the +original estate twenty odd years ago. The old Governor during his last +administration had built it for Robert Carteret, a handsome, wayward son, +whom pretty Jennie Pryor had married. It had been a runaway love match. The +old man had not opposed it because of any objection to the charming girl +the boy had fallen in love with. He knew that Robert was a wild, +headstrong, young scapegrace unfit to be the husband of any woman. + +But apparently marriage settled him. For two years after Jean's birth he +lived a decent life and then slipped again into hopelessly dissolute +habits. When Jean was seven years old he was found dead one night under +peculiar circumstances that were never made public. The sweet little woman +who had braved the world's wrath to marry him had never complained, and she +alone (with one other) knew the true secret of his death. + +She had always been supported by a generous allowance from the old Governor +and in his last will the vigorous octogenarian had made her his sole heir. + +Norton had loved this quiet, patient little mother with a great tenderness +since the day of his marriage to her daughter. He had never found her +wanting in sympathy or helpfulness. She rarely left her cottage, but many a +time he had gone to her with his troubles and came away with a light heart +and a clearer insight into the duty that called. Her love and faith in him +was one of the big things in life. In every dream of achievement that had +fired his imagination during the stirring days of the past months he had +always seen her face smiling with pride and love. + +It was a bitter task to confess his shame to her--this tender, gracious, +uncomplaining saint, to whom he had always been a hero. He paused a moment +with his hand on the bell of the cottage, and finally rang. + +Standing before her with bowed head he told in a few stammering words the +story of his sin and the sorrow that had overwhelmed him. + +"I swear to you that for the past two months my life has been clean and God +alone knows the anguish of remorse I have suffered. You'll help me, +mother?" he asked pathetically. + +"Yes, my son," she answered simply. + +"You don't hate me?"--the question ended with a catch in his voice that +made it almost inaudible. + +She lifted her white hands to his cheeks, drew the tall form down gently +and pressed his lips: + +"No, my son, I've lived too long. I leave judgment now to God. The unshed +tears I see in your eyes are enough for me." + +"I must see her to-night, mother. Make her see me. I can't endure this." + +"She will see you when I have talked with her," was the slow reply as if to +herself. "I am going to tell her something that I hoped to carry to the +grave. But the time has come and she must know." + +The doctor was strolling on the lawn when they arrived. + +"She didn't wish to see me, my boy," he said with a look of sympathy. "And +I thought it best to humor her. Send for me again if you wish, but I think +the mother is best to-night." Without further words he tipped his hat with +a fine old-fashioned bow to Mrs. Carteret and hurried home. + +At the sound of the mother's voice the door was opened, two frail arms +slipped around her neck and a baby was sobbing again on her breast. The +white slender hands tenderly stroked the blonde hair, lips bent low and +kissed the shining head and a cheek rested there while sob after sob shook +the little body. The wise mother spoke no words save the sign language of +love and tenderness, the slow pressure to her heart of the sobbing figure, +kisses, kisses, kisses on her hair and the soothing touch of her hand. + +A long time without a word they thus clung to each other. The sobs ceased +at last. + +"Now tell me, darling, how can I help you?" the gentle voice said. + +"Oh, mamma, I just want to go home to you again and die--that's all." + +"You'd be happier, you think, with me, dear?" + +"Yes--it's clean and pure there. I can't live in this house--the very air I +breathe is foul!" + +"But you can't leave Dan, my child. Your life and his are one in your babe. +God has made this so." + +"He is nothing to me now. He doesn't exist. I don't come of his breed of +men. My father's handsome face--my grandfather's record as the greatest +Governor of the state--are not merely memories to me. I'll return to my +own. And I'll take my child with me. I'll go back where the air is clean, +where men have always been men, not beasts----" + +The mother rose quietly and took from the mantel the dainty morocco-covered +copy of the Bible she had given her daughter the day she left home. She +turned its first, pages, put her finger on the sixteenth chapter of the +Book of Genesis, and turned down a leaf: + +"I want you to read this chapter of Genesis which I have marked when you +are yourself, and remember that the sympathy of the world has always been +with the outcast Hagar, and not with the foolish wife who brought a +beautiful girl into her husband's house and then repented of her folly." + +"But a negress! oh, my God, the horror, the shame, the humiliation he has +put on me! I've asked myself a hundred times why I lived a moment, why I +didn't leap from that window and dash my brain out on the ground below--the +beast--the beast!" + +"Yes, dear, but when you are older you will know that all men are beasts." + +"Mother!" + +"Yes, all men who are worth while----" + +"How can you say that," the daughter cried with scorn, "and remember my +father and grandfather? No man passes the old Governor to-day without +lifting his hat, and I've seen you sit for hours with my father's picture +in your lap crying over it----" + +"Yes, dear," was the sweet answer, "these hearts of ours play strange +pranks with us sometimes. You must see Dan to-night and forgive. He will +crawl on his hands and knees to your feet and beg it." + +"I'll never see him or speak to him again!" + +"You must--dear." + +"Never!" + +The mother sat down on the lounge and drew the quivering figure close. Her +face was hidden from the daughter's view when she began to speak and so +the death-like pallor was not noticed. The voice was held even by a firm +will: + +"I hoped God might let me go without my having to tell you what I must say +now, dearest"--in spite of her effort there was a break and silence. + +The little hand sought the mother's: + +"You know you can tell me anything, mamma, dear." + +"Your father, my child, was not a great man. He died in what should have +been the glory of young manhood. He achieved nothing. He was just the +spoiled child of a greater man, a child who inherited his father's +brilliant mind, fiery temper and willful passions. I loved him from the +moment we met and in spite of all I know that he loved me with the +strongest, purest love he was capable of giving to any woman. And yet, +dearest, I dare not tell you all I discovered of his wild, reckless life. +The vilest trait of his character was transmitted straight from sire to +son--he would never ask forgiveness of any human being for anything he had +done--that is your grandfather's boast to-day. The old Governor, my child, +was the owner of more than a thousand slaves on his two great plantations. +Many of them he didn't know personally--unless they were beautiful +girls----" + +"Oh, mother, darling, have mercy on me!"--the little fingers tightened +their grip. But the mother's even voice went on remorselessly: + +"Cleo's mother was one of his slaves. You may depend upon it, your +grandfather knows her history. You must remember what slavery meant, dear. +It put into the hands of a master an awful power. It was not necessary for +strong men to use this power. The humble daughters of slaves vied with one +another to win his favor. Your grandfather was a man of great intellect, of +powerful physique, of fierce, ungovernable passions----" + +"But my father"--gasped the girl wife. + +"Was a handsome, spoiled child, the kind of man for whom women have always +died--but he never possessed the strength to keep himself within the bounds +of decency as did the older man----" + +"What do you mean?" the daughter broke in desperately. + +"There has always been a secret about your father's death"--the mother +paused and drew a deep breath. "I made the secret. I told the story to save +him from shame in death. He died in the cabin of a mulatto girl he had +played with as a boy--and--the thing that's hardest for me to tell you, +dearest, is that I knew exactly where to find him when he had not returned +at two o'clock that morning----" + +The white head sank lower and rested on the shoulder of the frail young +wife, who slipped her arms about the form of her mother, and neither spoke +for a long while. + +At last the mother began in quiet tones: + +"And this was one of the reasons, my child, why slavery was doomed. The war +was a wicked and awful tragedy. The white motherhood of the South would +have crushed slavery. Before the war began we had six hundred thousand +mulattoes--six hundred thousand reasons why slavery had to die!" + +The fire flashed in the gentle eyes for a moment while she paused, and drew +her soul back from the sorrowful past to the tragedy of to-day: + +"And so, my darling, you must see your husband and forgive. He isn't bad. +He carried in his blood the inheritance of hundreds of years of lawless +passion. The noble thing about Dan is that he has the strength of character +to rise from this to a higher manhood. You must help him, dearest, to do +this." + +The daughter bent and kissed the gentle lips: + +"Ask him to come here, mother----" + +She found the restless husband pacing the floor of the pillared porch. It +was past two o'clock and the waning moon had risen. His face was ghastly as +his feet stopped their dreary beat at the rustle of her dress. His heart +stood still for a moment until he saw the smiling face. + +"It's all right, Dan," she called softly in the doorway. "She's waiting for +you." + +He sprang to the door, stooped and kissed the silken gray hair and hurried +up the stairs. + +Tears were slowly stealing from the blue eyes as the little wife extended +her frail arms. The man knelt and bowed his head in her lap, unable to +speak at first. With an effort he mastered his voice: + +"Say that you forgive me!" + +The blonde head sank until it touched the brown: + +"I forgive you--but, oh, Dan, dear, I don't want to live any more now----" + +"Don't say that!" he pleaded desperately. + +"And I've wanted to live so madly, so desperately--but now--I'm afraid I +can't." + +"You can--you must! You have forgiven me. I'll prove my love to you by a +life of such devotion I'll make you forget! All I ask is the chance to +atone and make you happy. You must live because I ask it, dear! It's the +only way you can give me a chance. And the boy--dearest--you must live to +teach him." + +She nodded her head and choked back a sob. + +When the first faint light of the dawn of a glorious spring morning began +to tinge the eastern sky he was still holding her hands and begging her to +live. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE FIGHT FOR LIFE + + +The little wife made a brave fight. For a week there was no sign of a +breakdown save an unnatural brightness of the eyes that told the story of +struggle within. He gave himself to the effort to help her win. He spent +but an hour at the Capitol, left a Speaker _pro tem_ in the chair, hurried +to his office, gave his orders and by eleven o'clock he was at home, +talking, laughing, and planning a day's work that would interest her and +bring back the flush to her pale cheeks. + +She had responded to his increasing tenderness and devotion with pathetic +eagerness. At the beginning of the second week Doctor Williams gave him +hope: + +"It looks to me, my boy," he said thoughtfully, "that I'm seeing a miracle. +I think she's not only going to survive the shock, but, what's more +remarkable, she's going to recover her health again. The mind's the source +of health and power. We give medicines, of course, but the thought that +heals the soul will reach the body. Bah!--the body is the soul anyhow, for +all our fine-spun theories, and the mind is only one of the ways through +which we reach it----" + +"You really think she may be well again?" Norton asked with boyish +eagerness. + +"Yes, if you can reconcile her mind to this thing, she'll not only live, +she will be born again into a more vigorous life. Why not? The preachers +have often called me a godless rationalist. But I go them one better when +they preach the miracle of a second, or spiritual birth. I believe in the +possibility of many births for the human soul and the readjustment of these +bodies of ours to the new spirits thus born. If you can tide her over the +next three weeks without a breakdown, she will get well." + +The husband's eyes flashed: + +"If it depends on her mental attitude, I'll make her live and grow strong. +I'll give her my body and soul." + +"There are just two dangers----" + +"What?" + +"The first mental--a sudden collapse of the will with which she's making +this fight under a reaction to the memories of our system of educated +ignorance, which we call girlish innocence. This may come at a moment when +the consciousness of these 'ideals' may overwhelm her imagination and cause +a collapse----" + +"Yes, I understand," he replied thoughtfully. "I'll guard that." + +"The other is the big physical enigma----" + +"You mean?" + +"The possible reopening of that curious abscess in her throat." + +"But the specialist assured us it would never reappear----" + +"Yes, and he knows just as much about it as you or I. It is one of the few +cases of its kind so far recorded in the science of medicine. When the baby +was born, the drawing of the mother's neck in pain pressed a bone of the +spinal column into the flesh beside the jugular vein. Your specialist never +dared to operate for a thorough removal of the trouble for fear he would +sever the vein----" + +"And if the old wound reopens it will reach the jugular vein?" + +"Yes." + +"Well--it--won't happen!" he answered fiercely. "It can't happen now----" + +"I don't think it will myself, if you can keep at its highest tension the +desire to live. That's the magic thing that works the miracle of life in +such cases. It makes food digest, sends red blood to the tips of the +slenderest finger and builds up the weak places. Don't forget this, my boy. +Make her love life, desperately and passionately, until the will to live +dominates both soul and body." + +"I'll do it," was the firm answer, as he grasped the doctor's outstretched +hand in parting. + +He withdrew completely from his political work. A Speaker _pro tem_ +presided daily over the deliberations of the House, and an assistant editor +took charge of the paper. + +The wife gently urged him to give part of his time to his work again. + +"No," he responded firmly and gayly. "The doctor says you have a chance to +get well. I'd rather see the roses in your cheeks again than be the +President of the United States." + +She drew his head down and clung to him with desperate tenderness. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +CLEO'S SILENCE + + +For two weeks the wife held her own and the doctor grew more confident each +day. When Norton began to feel sure the big danger was past his mind became +alert once more to the existence of Cleo. He began to wonder why she had +not made an effort to see or communicate with him. + +She had apparently vanished from the face of the earth. In spite of his +effort to minimize the importance of this fact, her silence gradually grew +in sinister significance. What did it mean? What was her active brain and +vital personality up to? That it boded no good to his life and the life of +those he loved he couldn't doubt for a moment. He sent a reporter on a +secret mission to Peeler's house to find if she were there. + +He returned in three hours and made his report. + +"She's at Peeler's, sir," the young man said with a smile. + +"You allowed no one to learn the real reason of your visit, as I told you?" + +"They never dreamed it. I interviewed old Peeler on the revolution in +politics and its effects on the poor whites of the state----" + +"You saw her?" + +"She seemed to be all over the place at the same time, singing, laughing +and perfectly happy." + +"Run your interview to-morrow, and keep this visit a profound secret +between us." + +"Yes, sir." + +The reporter tipped his hat and was gone. Why she was apparently happy and +contented in surroundings she had grown to loathe was another puzzle. +Through every hour of the day, down in the subconscious part of his mind, +he was at work on this surprising fact. The longer he thought of it the +less he understood it. That she would ever content herself with the dreary +existence of old Peeler's farm after her experiences in the town and in his +home was preposterous. + +That she was smiling and happy under such conditions was uncanny, and the +picture of her shining teeth and the sound of her deep voice singing as she +walked through the cheap, sordid surroundings of that drab farmhouse +haunted his mind with strange fear. + +She was getting ready to strike him in the dark. Just how the blow would +fall he couldn't guess. + +The most obvious thing for her to do would be to carry her story to his +political enemies and end his career at a stroke. Yet somehow, for the life +of him he couldn't picture her choosing that method of revenge. She had not +left him in a temper. The rage and curses had all been his. She had never +for a moment lost her self-control. The last picture that burned into his +soul was the curious smile with which she had spoken her parting words: + +"But I'll see you again!" + +Beyond a doubt some clean-cut plan of action was in her mind when she +uttered that sentence. The one question now was--"what did she mean?" + +There was one thought that kept popping into his head, but it was too +hideous for a moment's belief. He stamped on it as he would a snake and +hurried on to other possibilities. There was but one thing he could do and +that was to await with increasing dread her first move. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE LARGER VISION + + +His mind had just settled into this attitude of alert watchfulness toward +Cleo when the first danger the doctor dreaded for his wife began to take +shape. + +The feverish brightness in her eyes grew dimmer and her movements less +vigorous. The dreaded reaction had come and the taut strings of weakened +nerves could bear the strain no longer. + +With a cry of despair she threw herself into his arms: + +"Oh, Dan, dear, it's no use! I've tried--I've tried so hard--but I can't do +it--I just don't want to live any more!" + +He put his hands over the trembling, thin lips: + +"Hush, dearest, you mustn't say that--it's just a minute's reaction. You're +blue this morning, that's all. It's the weather--a dreary foggy day. The +sun will be shining again to-morrow. It's shining now behind the mists if +we only remember it. The trees are bare, but their buds are swelling and +these days of cold and fog and rain must come to make them burst in glory. +Come, let me put your shawl around you and I'll show you how the flowers +have pushed up in the sheltered places the past week." + +He drew the hands, limp and cold, from his neck, picked up her shawl, +tenderly placed it about her shoulders, lifted her in his strong arms, and +carried her to the old rose garden behind the house. + +Don sniffed his leg, and looked up into his face with surprise at the +unexpected frolic. He leaped into the air, barked softly and ran in front +to show the way. + +"You see, old Don knows the sun is shining behind the clouds, dear!" + +She made no answer. The blonde head drooped limply against his breast. He +found a seat on the south side of the greenhouse on an old rustic bench his +father had built of cedar when he was a boy. + +"There," he said cheerfully, as he smoothed her dress and drew her close by +his side. "You can feel the warmth of the sun here reflected from the +glass. The violets are already blooming along the walks. The jonquils are +all gone, and the rose bushes have begun to bud. You mustn't talk about +giving up. We haven't lived yet." + +"But I'm tired, Dan, tired----" + +"It's just for a moment, remember, my love. You'll feel differently +to-morrow. The world is always beautiful if we only have eyes to see and +ears to hear. Watch that smoke curling straight up from the chimney! That +means the clouds are already lifting and the sun will burst through them +this afternoon. You mustn't brood, dearest. You must forget the misery that +has darkened our world for a moment and remember that it's only the dawn of +a new life for us both. We are just boy and girl yet. There's nothing +impossible. I'm going to prove to you that my love is the deathless thing +in me--the thing that links me to God." + +"You really love me so?" she asked softly. + +"Give me a chance to prove it. That's all I ask. Men sometimes wait until +they're past forty before they begin to sow their wild oats. I am only +twenty-five now. This tragic sin and shame has redeemed life. It's yours +forever--you must believe me when I say this, dearest----" + +"I try," she broke in wearily. "I try, Dan, but it's hard to believe +anything now--oh, so hard----" + +"But can't you understand, my love, how I have been headstrong and selfish +before the shock of my fall brought me to my senses? And that the terror of +losing you has taught me how deep and eternal the roots of our love have +struck and this knowledge led me into the consciousness of a larger and +more wonderful life--can't--can't you understand this, dearest?" + +His voice sank to the lowest reverent whisper as he ceased to speak. She +stroked his hand with a pathetic little gesture of tenderness. + +"Yes, I believe you," she said with a far-away look in her eyes. "I know +that I can trust you now implicitly, and what I can't understand is +that--feeling this so clearly--still I have no interest in life. Something +has snapped inside of me. Life doesn't seem worth the struggle any +longer----" + +"But it is, dear! Life is always good, always beautiful, and always worth +the struggle. We've but to lift our eyes and see. Sin is only our stumbling +in the dark as we grope toward the light. I'm going to be a humbler and +better man. I am no longer proud and vain. I've a larger and sweeter +vision. I feel my kinship to the weak and the erring. Alone in the night my +soul has entered into the fellowship of the great Brotherhood through the +gates of suffering. You must know this, Jean--you know that it's true as I +thus lay my heart's last secret bare to you to-day. + +"Yes, Dan," she sighed wearily, "but I'm just tired. I don't seem to +recognize anything I used to know. I look at the baby and he don't seem to +be mine. I look at you and feel that you're a stranger. I look at my room, +the lawn, the street, the garden--no matter where, and I'm dazed. I feel +that I've lost my way. I don't know how to live any more." + +For an hour he held her hand and pleaded with all the eloquence of his love +that she would let him teach her again, and all she could do was to come +back forever in the narrow circle her mind had beaten. She was tired and +life no longer seemed worth while! + +He kissed the drooping eyelids at last and laughed a willful, daring laugh +as he gathered her in his arms and walked slowly back into the house. + +"You've got to live, my own! I'll show you how! I'll breathe my fierce +desire into your soul and call you back even from the dead!" + +Yet in spite of all she drooped and weakened daily, and at the end of a +fortnight began to complain of a feeling of uneasiness in her throat. + +The old doctor said nothing when she made this announcement. He drew his +beetling eyebrows low and walked out on the lawn. + +Pale and haggard, Norton followed him. + +"Well, doctor?" he asked queerly. + +"There's only one thing to do. Get her away from here at once, to the most +beautiful spot you can find, high altitude with pure, stimulating air. The +change may help her. That's all I can say"--he paused, laid his hand on the +husband's arm and went on earnestly--"and if you haven't discussed that +affair with her, you'd better try it. Tear the old wound open, go to the +bottom of it, find the thing that's festering there and root it out if you +can--the thing that's caused this break." + +The end of another week found them in Asheville, North Carolina. + +The wonderful views of purple hills and turquoise sky stretching away into +the infinite thrilled the heart of the little invalid. + +It was her first trip to the mountains. She never tired the first two days +of sitting in the big sun-parlor beside the open fire logs and gazing over +the valleys and watching the fleet clouds with their marvelous coloring. +The air was too chill in these early days of spring for her to feel +comfortable outside. But a great longing began to possess her to climb the +mountains and feel their beauty at closer range. + +She sat by his side in her room and held his hand while they watched the +glory of the first cloud-flecked mountain sunset. The river lay a crooked +silver ribbon in the deepening shadows of the valley, while the sky +stretched its dazzling scarlet canopy high in heaven above it. The scarlet +slowly turned to gold, and then to deepening purple and with each change +revealed new beauty to the enraptured eye. + +She caught her breath and cried at last: + +"Oh, it is a beautiful world, Dan, dear--and I wish I could live!" + +He laughed for joy: + +"Then you shall, dearest! You shall, of course you shall!" + +"I want you to take me over every one of those wonderful purple hills!" + +"Yes, dear, I will!" + +"I dream as I sit and look at them that God lives somewhere in one of those +deep shadows behind a dazzling cloud, and that if we only drive along those +ragged cliffs among them we'd come face to face with Him some day----" + +He looked at her keenly. There was again that unnatural brightness in her +eyes which he didn't like and yet he took courage. The day was a glorious +one in the calendar. Hope had dawned in her heart. + +"The first warm day we'll go, dear," he cried with the enthusiasm of a boy, +"and take mammy and the kid with us, too, if you say so----" + +"No, I want just you, Dan. The long ride might tire the baby, and I might +wish to stay up there all night. I shall never grow tired of those hills." + +"It's sweet to hear you talk like that," he cried with a smile. + +He selected a gentle horse for their use and five days later, when the sun +rose with unusual warmth, they took their first mountain drive. + +Along the banks of crystal brooks that dashed their sparkling waters over +the rocks, up and up winding, narrow roads until the town became a mottled +white spot in the valley below, and higher still until the shining clouds +they had seen from the valley rolled silently into their faces, melting +into the gray mists of fog! + +In the midst of one of these clouds, the little wife leaned close and +whispered: + +"We're in heaven now, Dan--we're passing through the opal gates! I +shouldn't be a bit surprised to see Him at any moment up here----" + +A lump suddenly rose in his throat. Her voice sounded unreal. He bent +close and saw the strange bright light again in her eyes. And the awful +thought slowly shaped itself that the light he saw was the shining image of +the angel of Death reflected there. + +He tried to laugh off his morbid fancy now that she had begun to find the +world so beautiful, but the idea haunted him with increasing terror. He +couldn't shake off the impression. + +An hour later he asked abruptly: + +"You have felt no return of the pain in your throat, dear?" + +"Just a little last night, but not to-day--I've been happy to-day." + +He made up his mind to telegraph to New York at once for the specialist to +examine her throat. + +The fine weather continued unbroken. Every day for a week she sat by his +side and drifted over sunlit valleys, lingered beside beautiful waters and +climbed a new peak to bathe in sun-kissed clouds. On the top of one of +these peaks they found a farmhouse where lodgers were allowed for the +night. They stayed to see the sunrise next morning. Mammy would not worry, +they had told her they might spend the night on these mountain trips. + +The farmer called them in time--just as the first birds were waking in the +trees by their window. + +It was a climb of only two hundred yards to reach the top of a great +boulder that gave an entrancing view in four directions. To the west lay +the still sleeping town of Asheville half hidden among its hills and trees. +Eastward towered the giant peaks of the Blue Ridge, over whose ragged +crests the sun was climbing. + +The young husband took the light form in his strong arms and carried her +to the summit. He placed his coat on the rocky ledge, seated her on it, and +slipped his arm around the slim waist. There in silence they watched the +changing glory of the sky and saw the shadows wake and flee from the +valleys at the kiss of the sun. + +He felt the moment had come that he might say some things he had waited +with patience to speak: + +"You are sure, dear, that you have utterly forgiven the great wrong I did +you?" + +"Yes, Dan," she answered simply, "why do you ask?" + +"I just want to be sure, my Jean," he said tenderly, "that there's not a +single dark corner of your heart in which the old shadows lurk. I want to +drive them all out with my love just as we see the sun now lighting with +glory every nook and corner of the world. You are sure?" + +The thin lips quivered uncertainly and her blue eyes wavered as he searched +their depths. + +"There's one thing, Dan, that I'll never quite face, I think"--she paused +and turned away. + +"What, dear?" + +"How any man who had ever bent over a baby's cradle with the tenderness and +love I've seen in your face for Tom, could forget the mother who gave the +life at his command!" + +"I didn't forget, dearest," he said sadly. "I fought as a wounded man, +alone and unarmed, fights a beast in the jungle. With her sweet spiritual +ideal of love a sheltered, innocent woman can't remember that man is still +an animal, with tooth and claw and unbridled passions, that when put to the +test his religion and his civilization often are only a thin veneer, that +if he becomes a civilized human being in his relations to women it is not +by inheritance, for he is yet in the zoological period of development--but +that it is by the divine achievement of character through struggle. Try, +dearest, if you can, to imagine such a struggle. This primeval man, in the +shadows with desires inflamed by hunger, meets this free primeval woman who +is unafraid, who laughs at the laws of Society because she has nothing to +lose. Both are for the moment animals pure and simple. The universal in him +finds its counterpart in the universal in her. And whether she be fair or +dark, her face, her form, her body, her desires are his--and, above all, +she is near--and in that moment with a nearness that overwhelms by its +enfolding animal magnetism all powers of the mind to think or reflect. Two +such beings are atoms tossed by a storm of forces beyond their control. A +man of refinement wakes from such a crash of elemental powers dazed and +humiliated. Your lips can speak no word as vile, no curse as bitter as I +have hurled against myself----" + +The voice broke and he was silent. A little hand pressed his, and her words +were the merest tender whisper as she leaned close: + +"I've forgiven you, my love, and I'm going to let you teach me again to +live. I'll be a very docile little scholar in your school. But you know I +can't forget in a moment the greatest single hour that is given a woman to +know--the hour she feels the breath of her first born on her breast. It's +the memory of that hour that hurts. I won't try to deceive you. I'll get +over it in the years to come if God sends them----" + +"He will send them--he will send them!" the man broke in with desperate +emotion. + +Both were silent for several minutes and a smile began to play about the +blue eyes when she spoke at last: + +"You remember how angry you were that morning when you found a doctor and a +nurse in charge of your home? And the great fear that gripped your heart at +the first mad cry of pain I gave? I laughed at myself the next moment. And +then how I found your hand and wouldn't let you go. The doctor stormed and +ordered you out, and I just held on and shook my head, and you stayed. And +when the doctor turned his back I whispered in your ear: + +"''You won't leave me, Dan, darling, for a single moment--promise me--swear +it!' + +"And you answered: + +"'Yes, I swear it, honey--but you must be very brave--braver than I am, you +know'---- + +"And you begged me to take an anesthetic and I wouldn't, like a little +fool. I wanted to know all and feel all if it killed me. And the anguish of +your face became so terrible, dear--I was sorrier for you than for myself. +And when I saw your lips murmuring in an agony of prayer, I somehow didn't +mind it then----" + +She paused, looked far out over the hills and continued: + +"What a funny cry he gave--that first one--not a real baby cry--just a +funny little grunt like a good-natured pig! And how awfully disappointed +you were at the shapeless bundle of red flesh that hardly looked human! But +I could see the lines of your dear face in his, I knew that he would be +even handsomer than his big, brave father and pressed him close and laughed +for joy----" + +She stopped and sighed: + +"You see, Dan, what I couldn't understand is how any man who has felt the +pain and the glory of this, with his hand clasped in the hand of the woman +he loves, their two souls mirrored in that first pair of mysterious little +eyes God sent from eternity--how he could forget the tie that binds----" + +He made no effort to interrupt her until the last bitter thought that had +been rankling in her heart was out. He was looking thoughtfully over the +valley. An eagle poised above the field in the foreground, darted to the +stubble with lightning swiftness and rose with a fluttering brown quail in +his talons. His shrill cry of triumph rang pitilessly in the stillness of +the heights. + +The little figure gave an unconscious shiver and she added in low tones: + +"I'm never going to speak of this nameless thing again, Dan, but you asked +me this morning and I've told you what was in my heart. I just couldn't +understand how you could forget----" + +"Only a beast could, dearest," he answered with a curl of the lip. "I'm +something more than that now, taught by the bitterness of experience. +You're just a sweet, innocent girl who has never looked the world as it is +in the face. Reared as you were, you can't understand that there's a +difference as deep as the gulf between heaven and hell, in the divine love +that binds my soul and body and life to you and the sudden passing of a +storm of passion. Won't you try to remember this?" + +"Yes, dear, I will----" + +She looked into his eyes with a smile of tenderness: + +"A curious change is coming over you, Dan. I can begin to see it. There +used to be a line of cruelty sometimes about your mouth and a flash of it +in your eyes. They're gone. There's something strong and tender, wise and +sweet, in their place. If I were an artist I could paint it but I can't +just tell you what it is. I used to think the cruel thing I saw in you was +the memory of the war. Your eyes saw so much of blood and death and pain +and cruelty----" + +"Perhaps it was," he said slowly. "War does make men cruel--unconsciously +cruel. We lose all sense of the value of human life----" + +"No, it wasn't that," she protested, "it was the other +thing--the--the--Beast you've been talking about. It's not there any more, +Dan--and I'm going to be happy now. I know it, dear----" + +He bent and kissed the slender fingers. + +"If this old throat of mine just won't bother me again," she added. + +He looked at her and turned pale: + +"It's bothering you this morning?" + +She lifted the delicately shaped head and touched her neck: + +"Not much pain, but a sense of fullness. I feel as if I'm going to choke +sometimes." + +He rose abruptly, a great fear in his heart: + +"We'll go back to town at once. The doctor should arrive at three from New +York." + +"Let's not hurry," she cried smiling. "I'm happy now. You're my old +sweetheart again and I'm on a new honeymoon----" + +He gazed at the white slender throat. She was looking unusually well. He +wondered if this were a trick of the enemy to throw him off his guard. He +wondered what was happening in those tiny cells behind the smooth round +lines of the beautiful neck. It made him sick and faint to think of the +possibility of another attack--just when the fight was over--just when she +had begun to smile and find life sweet again! His soul rose in fierce +rebellion. It was too horrible for belief. He simply wouldn't believe it! + +"All right!" he exclaimed with decision. "We'll stay here till two o'clock, +anyhow. We can drive back in three hours. The train will be late--it always +is." + +Through the long hours of a wonderful spring morning they basked in the sun +side by side on a bed of leaves he piled in a sheltered spot on the +mountain side. They were boy and girl again. The shadows had lifted and the +world was radiant with new glory. They talked of the future and the life of +perfect mutual faith and love that should be theirs. + +And each moment closer came the soft footfall of an unseen angel. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE OPAL GATES + + +The doctor was waiting at the hotel, his keen eyes very serious. He had +guessed the sinister meaning of the summons. He was an unusually brusque +man--almost rude in his words. He greeted Norton with friendly sympathy and +smiled at the radiant face of the wife. + +"Well, little mother," he said with grave humor, "we have more trouble. But +you're brave and patient. It's a joy to work for you." + +"And now," she responded gayly, "you've got to finish this thing, doctor. I +don't want any more half-way operations. I'm going to get well this time. +I'm happy and I'm going to be strong again." + +"Good, we'll get at it right away. I knew you'd feel that way and so I +brought with me a great surgeon, the most skillful man I know in New York. +I've told him of your case, a very unusual one, and he is going to help +me." + +The little mouth smiled bravely: + +"I'll be ready for the examination in half an hour----" + +When the doctors emerged from her room the sun had set behind the dark blue +hills and Norton was waiting on the balcony for their report. + +The specialist walked slowly to where he was standing. He couldn't move +from his tracks. His throat was dry and he had somehow lost the power of +speech. He looked into the face of the man of science, read the story of +tragedy and a mist closed his eyes. + +The doctor took his arm gently: + +"I've bad news for you----" + +"Yes, I know," was the low answer. + +"The truth is best----" + +"I want to know it." + +"She can't live!" + +The tall figure stiffened, there was a moment of silence and when he spoke +his words fell slowly with measured intensity: + +"There's not a single chance, doctor?" + +"Not worth your cherishing. You'd as well know this now and be prepared. We +opened and drained the old wound, and both agreed that it is too late for +an operation. The flesh that guards the wall of the great vein is a mere +shred. She would die under the operation. I can't undertake it." + +"And it will not heal again?" + +The doctor was silent for a long while and his eyes wandered to the +darkening sky where the stars were coming out one by one: + +"Who knows but God? And who am I to set bounds to his power?" + +"Then there may be a slender chance?" he asked eagerly. + +"To the eye of Science--no--yet while life lingers we always hope. But I +wouldn't advise you to leave her side for the next ten days. The end, if it +comes, will be very sudden, and it will be too late for speech." + +A groan interrupted his words and Norton leaned heavily against the +balcony rail. The doctor's voice was full of feeling as he continued: + +"If you have anything to say to her you'd better say it quickly to be sure +that it does not remain unsaid." + +"Thank you----" + +"I have told her nothing more can be done now until the wound from this +draining heals--that when it does she can come to New York for a final +decision on the operation." + +"I understand." + +"We leave to-night on the midnight express----" + +"You can do nothing more?" + +"Nothing." + +A warm pressure of the hand in the gathering twilight and he was gone. The +dazed man looked toward the fading sky-line of the southwest at Mt. +Pisgah's towering black form pushing his way into the track of the stars +and a feeling of loneliness crushed his soul. + +He turned abruptly, braced himself for the ordeal and hurried to her room. +She was unusually bright and cheerful. + +"Why, it didn't hurt a bit, dear!" she exclaimed joyfully. "It was nothing. +And when it heals you're to take me to New York for the operation----" + +He took her hot hand and kissed it through blinding tears which he tried in +vain to fight back. + +"They didn't even have to pack that nasty old gauze in it again--were you +very much scared waiting out there, Dan?" + +"Very much." + +She started at the queer note in his voice, caught her hand in his brown +locks and pressed his head back in view: + +"Why, you're crying--you big foolish boy! You mustn't do that. I'm all +right now--I feel much better--there's not a trace of pain or uneasiness. +Don't be silly--it's all right, remember." + +He stroked the little hand: + +"Yes, I'll remember, dearest." + +"It should all be healed in three weeks and then we'll go to New York. +It'll just be fun! I've always been crazy to go. I won't mind the +operation--you'll be with me every minute now till I'm well again." + +"Yes, dear, every moment now until--you--are--well." + +The last words came slowly, but by a supreme effort of will the voice was +held even. + +He found mammy, told her the solemn truth, and sent her to hire a nurse for +the baby. + +"Either you or I must be by her side every minute now, mammy--day and +night." + +"Yessir, I understand," the dear old voice answered. + +Every morning early the nurse brought the baby in for a romp as soon as he +waked and mammy came to relieve the tired watcher. + +Ten days passed before the end came. Many long, sweet hours he had with her +hand in his as the great shadow deepened, while he talked to her of life +and death, and immortality. + +A strange peace had slowly stolen into his heart. He had always hated and +feared death before. Now his fears had gone. And the face of the dim white +messenger seemed to smile at him from the friendly shadows. + +The change came quietly one night as they sat in the moonlight of her +window. + +"Oh, what a beautiful world, Dan!" she said softly, and then the little +hand suddenly grasped her throat! She turned a blanched face on him and +couldn't speak. + +He lifted her tenderly and laid her on the bed, rang for the doctor and +sent mammy for the baby. + +She motioned for a piece of paper--and slowly wrote in a queer, trembling +hand: + + "I understand, dearest, I am going--it's all right. I am + happy--remember that I love you and have forgiven--rear our + boy free from the curse--you know what I mean. I had rather + a thousand times that he should die than this--my brooding + spirit will watch and guard." + +The baby kissed her sweetly and lisped: + +"Good night, mamma!" + +From the doorway he waved his chubby little arm and cried again: + +"Night, night, mamma!" + +The sun was slowly climbing the eastern hills when the end came. Its first +rays streamed through the window and fell on his haggard face as he bent +and pressed a kiss on the silent lips of the dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +QUESTIONS + + +The thing that crushed the spirit of the man was not the shock of death +with its thousand and one unanswerable questions torturing the soul, but +the possibility that his acts had been the cause of the tragedy. Dr. +Williams had said to him over and over again: + +"Make her will to live and she'll recover!" + +He had fought this grim battle and won. She had willed to live and was +happy. The world had never seemed so beautiful as the day she died. If the +cause of her death lay further back in the curious accident which happened +at the birth of the child, his soul was clear of guilt. + +He held none of the morbid fancies of the super-sensitive mind that would +make a father responsible for a fatal outcome in the birth of a babe. God +made women to bear children. The only woman to be pitied was the one who +could not know the pain, the joy and the danger of this divine hour. + +But the one persistent question to which his mind forever returned was +whether the shock of his sin had weakened her vitality and caused the +return of this old trouble. + +The moment he left the grave on the day of her burial, he turned to the old +doctor with this grim question. He told him the whole story. He told him +every word she had spoken since they left home. He recounted every hour of +reaction and depression, the good and the bad, just as the recording angel +might have written it. He ended his recital with the burning question: + +"Tell me now, doctor, honestly before God, did I kill her?" + +"Certainly not!" was the quick response. + +"Don't try to shield me. I can stand the truth. I don't belong to a race of +cowards. After this no pain can ever come but that my soul shall laugh!" + +"I'm honest with you, my boy. I've too much self-respect not to treat you +as a man in such an hour. No, if she died as you say, you had nothing to do +with it. The seed of death was hiding there behind that slender, graceful +throat. I was always afraid of it. And I've always known that if the pain +returned she'd die----" + +"You knew that before we left home?" + +"Yes. I only hinted the truth. I thought the change might prolong her life, +that's all." + +"You're not saying this to cheer me? This is not one of your lies you give +for medicine sometimes?" + +"No"--the old doctor smiled gravely. "No, shake off this nightmare and go +back to your work. Your people are calling you." + + * * * * * + +He made a desperate effort to readjust himself to life, but somehow at the +moment the task was hopeless. He had preached, with all the eloquence of +the enthusiasm of youth, that life in itself is always beautiful and always +good. He found it was easier to preach a thing than to live it. + +The old house seemed to be empty, and, strange to say, the baby's voice +didn't fill it. He had said to himself that the patter of his little feet +and the sound of his laughter would fill its halls, make it possible to +live, and get used to the change. But it wasn't so. Somehow the child's +laughter made him faint. The sound of his voice made the memory of his +mother an intolerable pain. His voice in the morning was the first thing he +heard and it drove him from the house. At night when he knelt to lisp his +prayers her name was a stab, and when he waved his little hands and said: +"Good night, Papa!" he could remember nothing save the last picture that +had burned itself into his soul. + +He tried to feed and care for a canary she had kept in her room, but when +he cocked his little yellow head and gave the loving plaintive cry with +which he used to greet her, the room became a blur and he staggered out +unable to return for a day. + +The silent sympathy of his dog, as he thrust his nose between his hands and +wagged his shaggy tail, was the only thing that seemed to count for +anything. + +"I understand, Don, old boy," he cried, lifting his paw into his lap and +slipping his arm around the woolly neck, "you're telling me that you love +me always, good or bad, right or wrong. I understand, and it's very sweet +to know it. But I've somehow lost the way on life's field, old boy. The +night is coming on and I can't find the road home. You remember that +feeling when we were lost sometimes in strange countries hunting together, +you and I?" + +Don licked his hand and wagged his tail again. + +He rose and walked through the lawn, radiant now with the glory of spring. +But the flowers had become the emblems of Death not Life and their odor +was oppressive. + +A little black boy, in a ragged shirt and torn trousers, barefooted and +bareheaded, stopped at the gate, climbed up and looked over with idle +curiosity at his aimless wandering. He giggled and asked: + +"Ye don't need no boy fer nothin, do ye?" + +The man's sombre eyes suddenly lighted with a look of hate that faded in a +moment and he made no reply. What had this poor little ragamuffin, his face +smeared with dirt and his eyes rolling with childish mirth, to do with +tragic problems which his black skin symbolized! He was there because a +greedy race of empire builders had need of his labor. He had remained to +torment and puzzle and set at naught the wisdom of statesmen for the same +reason. For the first time in his life he asked himself a startling +question: + +"Do I really need him?" + +Before the shock that threw his life into ruins he would have answered as +every Southerner always answered at that time: + +"Certainly I need him. His labor is indispensable to the South." + +But to-day, back of the fire that flashed in his eyes, there had been born +a new thought. He was destined to forget it in the stress of the life of +the future, but it was there growing from day to day. The thought shaped +itself into questions: + +"Isn't the price we pay too great? Is his labor worth more than the purity +of our racial stock? Shall we improve the breed of men or degrade it? Is +any progress that degrades the breed of men progress at all? Is it not +retrogression? Can we afford it?" + +He threw off his train of thought with a gesture of weariness and a great +desire suddenly possessed his heart to get rid of such a burden by a +complete break with every tie of life save one. + +"Why not take the boy and go?" he exclaimed. + +The more he turned the idea over in his mind the more clearly it seemed to +be the sensible thing to do. + +But the fighting instinct within him was too strong for immediate +surrender. He went to his office determined to work and lose himself in a +return to its old habits. + +He sat down at his desk, but his mind was a blank. There wasn't a question +on earth that seemed worth writing an editorial about. Nothing mattered. + +For two hours he sat hopelessly staring at his exchanges. The same world, +which he had left a few weeks before when he had gone down into the valley +of the shadows to fight for his life, still rolled on with its endless +story of joy and sorrow, ambitions and struggle. It seemed now the record +of the buzzing of a lot of insects. It was a waste of time to record such a +struggle or to worry one way or another about it. And this effort of a +daily newspaper to write the day's history of these insects! It might be +worth the while of a philosopher to pause a moment to record the blow that +would wipe them out of existence, but to get excited again over their +little squabbles--it seemed funny now that he had ever been such a fool! + +He rose at last in disgust and seized his hat to go home when the Chairman +of the Executive Committee of his party suddenly walked into his office +unannounced. His face was wreathed in smiles and his deep bass voice had a +hearty, genuine ring: + +"I've big news for you, major!" + +The editor placed a chair beside his desk, motioned his visitor to be +seated and quietly resumed his seat. + +"It's been settled for some time," he went on enthusiastically, "but we +thought best not to make the announcement so soon after your wife's death. +I reckon you can guess my secret?" + +"I give it up," was the listless answer. + +"The Committee has voted unanimously to make you the next Governor. Your +nomination with such backing is a mere formality. Your election is a +certainty----" + +The Chairman sprang to his feet and extended his big hand: + +"I salute the Governor of the Commonwealth--the youngest man in the history +of the state to hold such high office----" + +"You mean it?" Norton asked in a stupor. + +"Mean it? Of course I mean it! Why don't you give me your hand? What's the +matter?" + +"You see, I've sort of lost my bearings in politics lately." + +The Chairman's voice was lowered: + +"Of course, major, I understand. Well, this is the medicine you need now to +brace you up. For the first time in my memory a name will go before our +convention without a rival. There'll be just one ballot and that will be a +single shout that'll raise the roof----" + +Norton rose and walked to his window overlooking the Square, as he was in +the habit of doing often, turning his back for a moment on the enthusiastic +politician. + +He was trying to think. The first big dream of his life had come true and +it didn't interest him. + +He turned abruptly and faced his visitor: + +"Tell your Committee for me," he said with slow emphatic voice, "that I +appreciate the high honor they would do me, but cannot accept----" + +"What!" + +"I cannot accept the responsibility." + +"You don't mean it?" + +"I was never more in earnest." + +The Chairman slipped his arm around the editor with a movement of genuine +sympathy: + +"Come, my boy, this is nonsense. I'm a veteran politician. No man ever did +such a thing as this in the history of the state! You can't decline such an +honor. You're only twenty-five years old." + +"Time is not measured by the tick of a clock," Norton interrupted, "but by +what we've lived." + +"Yes, yes, we know you've had a great shock in the death of your wife, but +you must remember that the people--a million people--are calling you to +lead them. It's a solemn duty. Don't say no now. Take a little time and +you'll see that it's the work sent to you at the moment you need it most. I +won't take no for an answer----" + +He put on his hat and started to the door: + +"I'll just report to the Committee that I notified you and that you have +the matter under consideration." + +Before Norton could enter a protest the politician had gone. + +His decision was instantly made. This startling event revealed the +hopelessness of life under its present conditions. He would leave the +South. He would put a thousand miles between him and the scene of the +events of the past year. He would leave his home with its torturing +memories. + +Above all, he would leave the negroid conditions that made his shame +possible and rear his boy in clean air. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +CLEO'S CRY + + +The decision once made was carried out without delay. He placed an editor +permanently in charge of his paper, closed the tall green shutters of the +stately old house, sold his horses, and bought tickets for himself and +mammy for New York. + +He paused at the gate and looked back at the white pillars of which he had +once been so proud. He hadn't a single regret at leaving. + +"A house doesn't make a home, after all!" he sighed with a lingering look. + +He took the boy to the cemetery for a last hour beside the mother's grave +before he should turn his back on the scenes of his old life forever. + +The cemetery was the most beautiful spot in the county. At this period of +the life of the South, it was the one spot where every home had its little +plot. The war had killed the flower of Southern manhood. The bravest and +the noblest boys never surrendered. They died with a shout and a smile on +their lips and Southern women came daily now to keep their love watches on +these solemn bivouacs of the dead. The girls got the habit of going there +to plant flowers and to tend them and grew to love the shaded walks, the +deep boxwood hedges, the quiet, sweetly perfumed air. Sweethearts were +always strolling among the flowers and from every nook and corner peeped a +rustic seat that could tell its story of the first stammering words from +lovers' lips. + +Norton saw them everywhere this beautiful spring afternoon, the girls in +their white, clean dresses, the boys bashful and self-conscious. A throb of +pain gripped his heart and he hurried through the wilderness of flowers to +the spot beneath a great oak where he had laid the tired body of the first +and only woman he had ever loved. + +He placed the child on the grass and led him to the newly-made mound, put +into his tiny hand the roses he had brought and guided him while he placed +them on her grave. + +"This is where little mother sleeps, my boy," he said softly. "Remember it +now--it will be a long, long time before we shall see it again. You won't +forget----" + +"No--dad-ee," he lisped sweetly. "I'll not fordet, the big tree----" + +The man rose and stood in silence seeing again the last beautiful day of +their life together and forgot the swift moments. He stood as in a trance +from which he was suddenly awakened by the child's voice calling him +excitedly from another walkway into which he had wandered: + +"Dad-ee!" he called again. + +"Yes, baby," he answered. + +"Oh, come quick! Dad-ee--here's C-l-e-o!" + +Norton turned and with angry steps measured the distance between them. + +He came upon them suddenly behind a boxwood hedge. The girl was kneeling +with the child's arms around her neck, clinging to her with all the +yearning of his hungry little heart, and she was muttering half articulate +words of love and tenderness. She held him from her a moment, looked into +his eyes and cried: + +"And you missed me, darling?" + +"Oh--C-l-e-o!" he cried, "I thought 'oo'd _nev-er_ tum!" + +The angry words died in the man's lips as he watched the scene in silence. + +He stooped and drew the child away: + +"Come, baby, we must go----" + +"Tum on, C-l-e-o, we do now," he cried. + +The girl shook her head and turned away. + +"Tum on, C-l-e-o!" he cried tenderly. + +She waved him a kiss, and the child said excitedly: + +"Oh, dad-ee, wait!--wait for C-l-e-o!" + +"No, my baby, she can't come with us----" + +The little head sank to his shoulder, a sob rose from his heart and he +burst into weeping. And through the storm of tears one word only came out +clear and soft and plaintive: + +"C-l-e-o! C-l-e-o!" + +The girl watched them until they reached the gate and then, on a sudden +impulse, ran swiftly up, caught the child's hand that hung limply down his +father's back, covered it with kisses and cried in cheerful, half-laughing +tones: + +"Don't cry, darling! Cleo will come again!" + +And in the long journey to the North the man brooded over the strange tones +of joyous assurance with which the girl had spoken. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE BLOW FALLS + + +For a time Norton lost himself in the stunning immensity of the life of New +York. He made no effort to adjust himself to it. He simply allowed its +waves to roll over and engulf him. + +He stopped with mammy and the boy at a brown-stone boarding house on +Stuyvesant Square kept by a Southern woman to whom he had a letter of +introduction. + +Mrs. Beam was not an ideal landlady, but her good-natured helplessness +appealed to him. She was a large woman of ample hips and bust, and though +very tall seemed always in her own way. She moved slowly and laughed with a +final sort of surrender to fate when anything went wrong. And it was +generally going wrong. She was still comparatively young--perhaps +thirty-two--but was built on so large and unwieldy a pattern that it was +not easy to guess her age, especially as she had a silly tendency to +harmless kittenish ways at times. + +The poor thing was pitifully at sea in her new world and its work. She had +been reared in a typically extravagant home of the old South where slaves +had waited her call from childhood. She had not learned to sew, or cook or +keep house--in fact, she had never learned to do anything useful or +important. So naturally she took boarders. Her husband, on whose shoulders +she had placed every burden of life the day of her marriage, lay somewhere +in an unmarked trench on a Virginia battlefield. + +She couldn't conceive of any human being enduring a servant that wasn't +black and so had turned her house over to a lazy and worthless crew of +Northern negro help. The house was never clean, the waste in her kitchen +was appalling, but so long as she could find money to pay her rent and +grocery bills, she was happy. Her only child, a daughter of sixteen, never +dreamed of lifting her hand to work, and it hadn't yet occurred to the +mother to insult her with such a suggestion. + +Norton was not comfortable but he was lonely, and Mrs. Beam's easy ways, +genial smile and Southern weaknesses somehow gave him a sense of being at +home and he stayed. Mammy complained bitterly of the insolence and low +manners of the kitchen. But he only laughed and told her she'd get used to +it. + +He was astonished to find that so many Southern people had drifted to New +York--exiles of all sorts, with one universal trait, poverty and +politeness. + +And they quickly made friends. As he began to realize it, his heart went +out to the great city with a throb of gratitude. + +When the novelty of the new world had gradually worn off a feeling of +loneliness set in. He couldn't get used to the crowds on every street, +these roaring rivers of strange faces rushing by like the waters of a +swollen stream after a freshet, hurrying and swirling out of its banks. + +At first he had found himself trying to bow to every man he met and take +off his hat to every woman. It took a long time to break himself of this +Southern instinct. The thing that cured him completely was when he tipped +his hat unconsciously to a lady on Fifth Avenue. She blushed furiously, +hurried to the corner and had him arrested. + +His apology was so abject, so evidently sincere, his grief so absurd over +her mistake that when she caught his Southern drawl, it was her turn to +blush and ask his pardon. + +A feeling of utter depression and pitiful homesickness gradually crushed +his spirit. His soul began to cry for the sunlit fields and the perfumed +nights of the South. There didn't seem to be any moon or stars here, and +the only birds he ever saw were the chattering drab little sparrows in the +parks. + +The first day of autumn, as he walked through Central Park, a magnificent +Irish setter lifted his fine head and spied him. Some subtle instinct told +the dog that the man was a hunter and a lover of his kind. The setter +wagged his tail and introduced himself. Norton dropped to a seat, drew the +shaggy face into his lap, and stroked his head. + +He was back home again. Don, with his fine nose high in the air, was +circling a field and Andy was shouting: + +"He's got 'em! He's got 'em sho, Marse Dan!" + +He could see Don's slim white and black figure stepping slowly through the +high grass on velvet feet, glancing back to see if his master were +coming--the muscles suddenly stiffened, his tail became rigid, and the +whole covey of quail were under his nose! + +He was a boy again and felt the elemental thrill of man's first work as +hunter and fisherman. He looked about him at the bald coldness of the +artificial park and a desperate longing surged through his heart to be +among his own people again, to live their life and feel their joys and +sorrows as his own. + +And then the memory of the great tragedy slowly surged back, he pushed the +dog aside, rose and hurried on in his search for a new world. + +He tried the theatres--saw Booth in his own house on 23d Street play +"Hamlet" and Lawrence Barrett "Othello," listened with rapture to the new +Italian Grand Opera Company in the Academy of Music--saw a burlesque in the +Tammany Theatre on 14th Street, Lester Wallack in "The School for Scandal" +at Wallack's Theatre on Broadway at 13th Street, and Tony Pastor in his +variety show at his Opera House on the Bowery, and yet returned each night +with a dull ache in his heart. + +Other men who loved home less perhaps could adjust themselves to new +surroundings, but somehow in him this home instinct, this feeling of +personal friendliness for neighbor and people, this passion for house and +lawn, flowers and trees and shrubs, for fields and rivers and hills, seemed +of the very fibre of his inmost life. This vast rushing, roaring, +impersonal world, driven by invisible titanic forces, somehow didn't appeal +to him. It merely stunned and appalled and confused his mind. + +And then without warning the blow fell. + +He told himself afterwards that he must have been waiting for it, that some +mysterious power of mental telepathy had wired its message without words +across the thousand miles that separated him from the old life, and yet the +surprise was complete and overwhelming. + +He had tried that morning to write. A story was shaping itself in his mind +and he felt the impulse to express it. But he was too depressed. He threw +his pencil down in disgust and walked to his window facing the little +park. + +It was a bleak, miserable day in November--the first freezing weather had +come during the night and turned a drizzling rain into sleet. The streets +were covered with a thin, hard, glistening coat of ice. A coal wagon had +stalled in front of the house, a magnificent draught horse had fallen and a +brutal driver began to beat him unmercifully. + +Henry Berg's Society had not yet been organized. + +Norton rushed from the door and faced the astonished driver: + +"Don't you dare to strike that horse again!" + +The workman turned his half-drunken face on the intruder with a vicious +leer: + +"Well, what t'ell----" + +"I mean it!" + +With an oath the driver lunged at him: + +"Get out of my way!" + +The big fist shot at Norton's head. He parried the attack and knocked the +man down. The driver scrambled to his feet and plunged forward again. A +second blow sent him flat on his back on the ice and his body slipped three +feet and struck the curb. + +"Have you got enough?" Norton asked, towering over the sprawling figure. + +"Yes." + +"Well, get up now, and I'll help you with the horse." + +He helped the sullen fellow unhitch the fallen horse, lift him to his feet +and readjust the harness. He put shoulder to the wheel and started the +wagon again on its way. + +He returned to his room feeling better. It was the first fight he had +started for months and it stirred his blood to healthy reaction. + +He watched the bare limbs swaying in the bitter wind in front of St. +George's Church and his eye rested on the steeples the architects said were +unsafe and might fall some day with a crash, and his depression slowly +returned. He had waked that morning with a vague sense of dread. + +"I guess it was that fight!" he muttered. "The scoundrel will be back in an +hour with a warrant for my arrest and I'll spend a few days in jail----" + +The postman's whistle blew at the basement window. He knew that fellow by +the way he started the first notes of his call--always low, swelling into a +peculiar shrill crescendo and dying away in a weird cry of pain. + +The call this morning was one of startling effects. It was his high nerve +tension, of course, that made the difference--perhaps, too, the bitter cold +and swirling gusts of wind outside. But the shock was none the less vivid. +The whistle began so low it seemed at first the moaning of the wind, the +high note rang higher and higher, until it became the shout of a fiend, and +died away with a wail of agony wrung from a lost soul. + +He shivered at the sound. He would not have been surprised to receive a +letter from the dead after that. + +He heard some one coming slowly up stairs. It was mammy and the boy. The +lazy maid had handed his mail to her, of course. + +His door was pushed open and the child ran in holding a letter in his red, +chubby hand: + +"A letter, daddy!" he cried. + +He took it mechanically, staring at the inscription. He knew now the +meaning of his horrible depression! She was writing that letter when it +began yesterday. He recognized Cleo's handwriting at a glance, though this +was unusually blurred and crooked. The postmark was Baltimore, another +striking fact. + +He laid the letter down on his table unopened and turned to mammy: + +"Take him to your room. I'm trying to do some writing." + +The old woman took the child's hand grumbling: + +"Come on, mammy's darlin', nobody wants us!" + +He closed the door, locked it, glanced savagely at the unopened letter, +drew his chair before the open fire and gazed into the glowing coals. + +He feared to break the seal--feared with a dull, sickening dread. He +glanced at it again as though he were looking at a toad that had suddenly +intruded into his room. + +Six months had passed without a sign, and he had ceased to wonder at the +strange calm with which she received her dismissal and his flight from the +scene after his wife's death. He had begun to believe that her shadow would +never again fall across his life. + +It had come at last. He picked the letter up, and tried to guess its +meaning. She was going to make demands on him, of course. He had expected +this months ago. But why should she be in Baltimore? He thought of a +hundred foolish reasons without once the faintest suspicion of the truth +entering his mind. + +He broke the seal and read its contents. A look of vague incredulity +overspread his face, followed by a sudden pallor. The one frightful thing +he had dreaded and forgotten was true! + +He crushed the letter in his powerful hand with a savage groan: + +"God in Heaven!" + +He spread it out again and read and re-read its message, until each word +burned its way into his soul: + + "Our baby was born here yesterday. I was on my way to New + York to you, but was taken sick on the train at Baltimore + and had to stop. I'm alone and have no money, but I'm proud + and happy. I know that you will help me. + + "CLEO." + +For hours he sat in a stupor of pain, holding this crumpled letter in his +hand, staring into the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE CALL OF THE BLOOD + + +It was all clear now, the mystery of Cleo's assurance, of her happiness, of +her acceptance of his going without protest. + +She had known the truth from the first and had reckoned on his strength and +manliness to draw him to her in this hour. + +"I'll show her!" he said in fierce rebellion. "I'll give her the money she +needs--yes--but her shadow shall never again darken my life. I won't permit +this shame to smirch the soul of my boy--I'll die first!" + +He moved to the West side of town, permitted no one to learn his new +address, sent her money from the general postoffice, and directed all his +mail to a lock box he had secured. + +He destroyed thus every trace by which she might discover his residence if +she dared to venture into New York. + +To his surprise it was more than three weeks before he received a reply +from her. And the second letter made an appeal well-nigh resistless. The +message was brief, but she had instinctively chosen the words that found +him. How well she knew that side of his nature! He resented it with rage +and tried to read all sorts of sinister guile into the lines. But as he +scanned them a second time reason rejected all save the simplest and most +obvious meaning the words implied. + +The letter was evidently written in a cramped position. She had missed the +lines many times and some words were so scrawled they were scarcely +legible. But he read them all at last: + + "I have been very sick since your letter came with the + money. I tried to get up too soon. I have suffered awfully. + You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through. Please + don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help + now. I want to see you just once, and then I won't trouble + you any more. I am very weak to-day, but I'll soon be strong + again. + + "CLEO." + +It made him furious, this subtle appeal to his keen sense of fatherhood. +She knew how tenderly he loved his boy. She knew that while such +obligations rest lightly on some men, the tie that bound him to his son was +the biggest thing in his life. She had been near him long enough to learn +the secret things of his inner life. She was using them now to break down +the barriers of character and self-respect. He could see it plainly. He +hated her for it and yet the appeal went straight to his heart. + +Two things in this letter he couldn't get away from: + +"You see, I didn't know how much I had gone through." + +He kept reading this over. And the next line: + +"Please don't be angry with me for what neither you nor I can help now." + +The appeal was so human, so simple, so obviously sincere, no man with a +soul could ignore it. How could she help it now? She too had been swept +into the tragic situation by the blind forces of Nature. After all, had it +not been inevitable? Did not such a position of daily intimate physical +contact--morning, noon and night--mean just this? Could she have helped it? +Were they not both the victims, in a sense, of the follies of centuries? +Had he the right to be angry with her? + +His reason answered, no. And again came the deeper question--can any man +ever escape the consequences of his deeds? Deeds are of the infinite and +eternal and the smallest one disturbs the universe. It slowly began to dawn +on him that nothing he could ever do or say could change one elemental +fact. She was a mother--a fact bigger than all the forms and ceremonies of +the ages. It was just this thing in his history that made his sin against +the wife so poignant, both to her and to his imagination. A child was a +child, and he had no right to sneak and play a coward in such an hour. + +Step by step the woman's simple cry forced its way into the soul and slowly +but surely the rags were stripped from pride, until he began to see himself +naked and without sham. + +The one thing that finally cut deepest was the single sentence: "You see, I +didn't know how much I had gone through----" + +He read it again with a feeling of awe. No matter what the shade of her +olive cheek or the length of her curly hair, she was a mother with all that +big word means in the language of men. Say what he might--of her art in +leading him on, of her final offering herself in a hundred subtle ways in +their daily life in his home--he was still responsible. He had accepted the +challenge at last. + +And he knew what it meant to any woman under the best conditions, with a +mother's face hovering near and the man she loved by her side. He saw +again the scene of his boy's birth. And then another picture--a lonely girl +in a strange city without a friend--a cot in the whitewashed ward of a +city's hospital--a pair of startled eyes looking in vain for a loved, +familiar face as her trembling feet stepped falteringly down into the +valley that lies between Life and Death! + +A pitiful thing, this hour of suffering and of waiting for the unknown. + +His heart went out to her in sympathy, and he answered her letter with a +promise to come. But on the day he was to start for Baltimore mammy was +stricken with a cold which developed into pneumonia. Unaccustomed to the +rigors of a Northern climate, she had been careless and the result from the +first was doubtful. To leave her was, of course, impossible. + +He sent for a doctor and two nurses and no care or expense was spared, but +in spite of every effort she died. It was four weeks before he returned +from the funeral in the South. + +He reached Baltimore in a blinding snowstorm the week preceding Christmas. +Cleo had left the hospital three weeks previous to his arrival, and for +some unexplained reason had spent a week or ten days in Norfolk and +returned in time to meet him. + +He failed to find her at the address she had given him, but was directed to +an obscure hotel in another quarter of the city. + +He was surprised and puzzled at the attitude assumed at this meeting. She +was nervous, irritable, insolent and apparently anxious for a fight. + +"Well, why do you stare at me like that?" she asked angrily. + +"Was I staring?" he said with an effort at self-control. + +"After all I've been through the past weeks," she said bitterly, "I didn't +care whether I lived or died." + +"I meant to have come at once as I wrote you. But mammy's illness and death +made it impossible to get here sooner." + +"One excuse is as good as another," she retorted with a contemptuous toss +of her head. + +Norton looked at her in blank amazement. It was inconceivable that this was +the same woman who wrote him the simple, sincere appeal a few weeks ago. It +was possible, of course, that suffering had embittered her mind and reduced +her temporarily to the nervous condition in which she appeared. + +"Why do you keep staring at me?" she asked again, with insolent ill-temper. + +He was so enraged at her evident attempt to bully him into an attitude of +abject sympathy, he shot her a look of rage, seized his hat and without a +word started for the door. + +With a cry of despair she was by his side and grasped his arm: + +"Please--please don't!" + +"Change your tactics, then, if you have anything to say to me." + +She flushed, stammered, looked at him queerly and then smiled: + +"Yes, I will, major--please don't be mad at me! You see, I'm just a little +crazy. I've been through so much since I came here I didn't know what I was +saying to you. I'm awfully sorry--let me take your hat----" + +She took his hat, laid it on the table and led him to a seat. + +"Please sit down. I'm so glad you've come, and I thank you for coming. I'm +just as humble and grateful as I can be. You must forget how foolish I've +acted. I've been so miserable and scared and lonely, it's a wonder I +haven't jumped into the bay. And I just thought at last that you were never +coming." + +Norton looked at her with new astonishment. Not because there was anything +strange in what she said--he had expected some such words on his arrival, +but because they didn't ring true. She seemed to be lying. There was an +expression of furtive cunning in her greenish eyes that was uncanny. He +couldn't make her out. In spite of the effort to be friendly she was +repulsive. + +"Well, I'm here," he said calmly. "You have something to say--what is it?" + +"Of course," she answered smilingly. "I have a lot to say. I want you to +tell me what to do." + +"Anything you like," he answered bluntly. + +"It's nothing to you?" + +"I'll give you an allowance." + +"Is that all?" + +"What else do you expect?" + +"You don't want to see her?" + +"No." + +"I thought you were coming for that?" + +"I've changed my mind. And the less we see of each other the better. I'll +go with you to-morrow and verify the records----" + +Cleo laughed: + +"You don't think I'm joking about her birth?" + +"No. But I'm not going to take your word for it." + +"All right, I'll go with you to-morrow." + +He started again to the door. He felt that he must leave--that he was +smothering. Something about the girl's manner got on his nerves. Not only +was there no sort of sympathy or attraction between them but the longer he +stayed in her presence the more he felt the desire to choke her. He began +to look into her eyes with growing suspicion and hate, and behind their +smiling plausibility he felt the power of a secret deadly hostility. + +"You don't want me to go back home with the child, do you?" Cleo asked with +a furtive glance. + +"No, I do not," he replied, emphatically. + +"I'm going back--but I'll give her up and let you educate her in a convent +on one condition----" + +"What?" he asked sharply. + +"That you let me nurse the boy again and give me the protection and shelter +of your home----" + +"Never!" he cried. + +"Please be reasonable. It will be best for you and best for me and best for +her that her life shall never be blackened by the stain of my blood. I've +thought it all out. It's the only way----" + +"No," he replied sternly. "I'll educate her in my own way, if placed in my +hands without condition. But you shall never enter my house again----" + +"Is it fair," she pleaded, "to take everything from me and turn me out in +the world alone? I'll give your boy all the love of a hungry heart. He +loves me." + +"He has forgotten your existence----" + +"You know that he hasn't!" + +"I know that he has," Norton persisted with rising wrath. "It's a waste of +breath for you to talk to me about this thing"--he turned on her fiercely: + +"Why do you wish to go back there? To grin and hint the truth to your +friends?" + +"You know that I'd cut my tongue out sooner than betray you. I'd like to +scream it from every housetop--yes. But I won't. I won't, because you smile +or frown means too much to me. I'm asking this that I may live and work for +you and be your slave without money and without price----" + +"I understand," he broke in bitterly, "because you think that thus you can +again drag me down--well, you can't do it! The power you once had is +gone--gone forever--never to return----" + +"Then why be afraid? No one there knows except my mother. You hate me. All +right. I can do you no harm. I'll never hate you. I'll just be happy to +serve you, to love your boy and help you rear him to be a fine man. Let me +go back with you and open the old house again----" + +He lifted his hand with a gesture of angry impatience: + +"Enough of this now--you go your way in life and I go mine." + +"I'll not give her up except on my conditions----" + +"Then you can keep her and go where you please. If you return home you'll +not find me. I'll put the ocean between us if necessary----" + +He stepped quickly to the door and she knew it was needless to argue +further. + +"Come to my hotel to-morrow morning at ten o'clock and I'll make you a +settlement through a lawyer." + +"I'll be there," she answered in a low tone, "but please, major, before you +go let me ask you not to remember the foolish things I said and the way I +acted when you came. I'm so sorry--forgive me. I made you terribly mad. I +don't know what was the matter with me. Remember I'm just a foolish girl +here without a friend----" + +She stopped, her voice failing: + +"Oh, my God, I'm so lonely, I don't want to live! You don't know what it +means for me just to be near you--please let me go home with you!" + +There was something genuine in this last cry. It reached his heart in spite +of anger. He hesitated and spoke in kindly tones: + +"Good night--I'll see you in the morning." + +This plea of loneliness and homesickness found the weak spot in his armor. +It was so clearly the echo of his own feelings. The old home, with its +beautiful and sad memories, his people and his work had begun to pull +resistlessly. Her suggestion was a subtle and dangerous one, doubly +seductive because it was so safe a solution of difficulties. There was not +the shadow of a doubt that her deeper purpose was to ultimately dominate +his personal life. He was sure of his strength, yet he knew that the wise +thing to do was to refuse to listen. + +At ten o'clock next morning she came. He had called a lawyer and drawn up a +settlement that only waited her signature. + +She had not said she would sign--she had not positively refused. She was +looking at him with dumb pleading eyes. + +[Illustration: "He had heard the call of his people."] + +Without a moment's warning the boy pushed his way into the room. Norton +sprang before Cleo and shouted angrily to the nurse: + +"I told you not to let him come into this room----" + +"But you see I des tum!" the boy answered with a laugh as he darted to the +corner. + +The thing he dreaded had happened. In a moment the child saw Cleo. There +was just an instant's hesitation and the father smiled that he had +forgotten her. But the hesitation was only the moment of dazed surprise. +With a scream of joy he crossed the room and sprang into her arms: + +"Oh, Cleo--Cleo--my Cleo! You've tum--you've tum! Look, Daddy! She's +tum--my Cleo!" + +He hugged her, he kissed her, he patted her flushed cheeks, he ran his +little fingers through her tangled hair, drew himself up and kissed her +again. + +She snatched him to her heart and burst into uncontrollable sobs, raised +her eyes streaming with tears to Norton and said softly: + +"Let me go home with you!" + +He looked at her, hesitated and then slowly tore the legal document to +pieces, threw it in the fire and nodded his consent. + +But this time his act was not surrender. He had heard the call of his +people and his country. It was the first step toward the execution of a new +life purpose that had suddenly flamed in the depths of his darkened soul as +he watched the picture of the olive cheek of the woman against the clear +white of his child's. + + + + +Book Two--Atonement + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE NEW LIFE PURPOSE + + +Norton had been compelled to wait twenty years for the hour when he could +strike the first decisive blow in the execution of his new life purpose. + +But the aim he had set was so high, so utterly unselfish, so visionary, so +impossible by the standards of modern materialism, he felt the thrill of +the religious fanatic as he daily girded himself to his task. + +He was far from being a religious enthusiast, although he had grown a +religion of his own, inherited in part, dreamed in part from the depth of +his own heart. The first article of this faith was a firm belief in the +ever-brooding Divine Spirit and its guidance in the work of man if he but +opened his mind to its illumination. + +He believed, as in his own existence, that God's Spirit had revealed the +vision he saw in the hour of his agony, twenty years before when he had +watched his boy's tiny arms encircle the neck of Cleo, the tawny young +animal who had wrecked his life, but won the heart of his child. He had +tried to desert his people of the South and awaked with a shock. His mind +in prophetic gaze had leaped the years and seen the gradual wearing down of +every barrier between the white and black races by the sheer force of daily +contact under the new conditions which Democracy had made inevitable. + +Even under the iron laws of slavery it was impossible for an inferior and +superior race to live side by side for centuries as master and slave +without the breaking down of some of these barriers. But the moment the +magic principle of equality in a Democracy became the law of life they must +all melt or Democracy itself yield and die. He had squarely faced this big +question and given his life to its solution. + +When he returned to his old home and installed Cleo as his housekeeper and +nurse she was the living incarnation before his eyes daily of the problem +to be solved--the incarnation of its subtleties and its dangers. He studied +her with the cold intellectual passion of a scientist. Nor was there ever a +moment's uncertainty or halting in the grim purpose that fired his soul. + +She had at first accepted his matter of fact treatment as the sign of +ultimate surrender. And yet as the years passed she saw with increasing +wonder and rage the gulf between them deepen and darken. She tried every +art her mind could conceive and her effective body symbolize in vain. His +eyes looked at her, but never saw the woman. They only saw the thing he +hated--the mongrel breed of a degraded nation. + +He had begun his work at the beginning. He had tried to do the things that +were possible. The minds of the people were not yet ready to accept the +idea of a complete separation of the races. He planned for the slow process +of an epic movement. His paper, in season and out of season, presented the +daily life of the black and white races in such a way that the dullest mind +must be struck by the fact that their relations presented an insoluble +problem. Every road of escape led at last through a blind alley against a +blank wall. + +In this policy he antagonized no one, but expressed always the doubts and +fears that lurked in the minds of thoughtful men and women. His paper had +steadily grown in circulation and in solid power. He meant to use this +power at the right moment. He had waited patiently and the hour at last had +struck. + +The thunder of a torpedo under an American warship lying in Havana harbor +shook the Nation and changed the alignment of political parties. + +The war with Spain lasted but a few months, but it gave the South her +chance. Her sons leaped to the front and proved their loyalty to the flag. +The "Bloody Shirt" could never again be waved. The negro ceased to be a +ward of the Nation and the Union of States our fathers dreamed was at last +an accomplished fact. There could never again be a "North" or a "South." + +Norton's first brilliant editorial reviewing the results of this war drew +the fire of his enemies from exactly the quarter he expected. + +A little college professor, who aspired to the leadership of Southern +thought under Northern patronage, called at his office. + +The editor's lips curled with contempt as he read the engraved card: + + "Professor Alexander Magraw" + +The man had long been one of his pet aversions. He occupied a chair in one +of the state's leading colleges, and his effusions advocating peace at any +price on the negro problem had grown so disgusting of late the _Eagle and +Phoenix_ had refused to print them. + +Magraw was nothing daunted. He devoted his energies to writing a book in +fulsome eulogy of a notorious negro which had made him famous in the North. +He wrote it to curry favor with the millionaires who were backing this +African's work and succeeded in winning their boundless admiration. They +hailed him the coming leader of "advanced thought." As a Southern white man +the little professor had boldly declared that this negro, who had never +done anything except to demonstrate his skill as a beggar in raising a +million dollars from Northern sentimentalists, was the greatest human being +ever born in America! + +Outraged public opinion in the South had demanded his expulsion from the +college for this idiotic effusion, but he was so entrenched behind the +power of money he could not be disturbed. His loud protests for free speech +following his acquittal had greatly increased the number of his henchmen. + +Norton wondered at the meaning of his visit. It could only be a sinister +one. In view of his many contemptuous references to the man, he was amazed +at his audacity in venturing to invade his office. + +He scowled a long while at the card and finally said to the boy: + +"Show him in." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A MODERN SCALAWAG + + +As the professor entered the office Norton was surprised at his height and +weight. He had never met him personally, but had unconsciously formed the +idea that he was a scrub physically. + +He saw a man above the average height, weighing nearly two hundred, with +cheeks flabby but inclined to fat. It was not until he spoke that he caught +the unmistakable note of effeminacy in his voice and saw it clearly +reflected in his features. + +He was dressed with immaculate neatness and wore a tie of an extraordinary +shade of lavender which matched the silk hose that showed above his stylish +low-cut shoes. + +"Major Norton, I believe?" he said with a smile. + +The editor bowed without rising: + +"At your service, Professor Magraw. Have a seat, sir." + +"Thank you! Thank you!" the dainty voice murmured with so marked a +resemblance to a woman's tones that Norton was torn between two +impulses--one to lift his eyebrows and sigh, "Oh, splash!" and the other to +kick him down the stairs. He was in no mood for the amenities of polite +conversation, turned and asked bluntly: + +"May I inquire, professor, why you have honored me with this unexpected +call--I confess I am very curious?" + +"No doubt, no doubt," he replied glibly. "You have certainly not minced +matters in your personal references to me in the paper of late, Major +Norton, but I have simply taken it good-naturedly as a part of your day's +work. Apparently we represent two irreconcilable ideals of Southern +society----" + +"There can be no doubt about that," Norton interrupted grimly. + +"Yet I have dared to hope that our differences are only apparent and that +we might come to a better understanding." + +He paused, simpered and smiled. + +"About what?" the editor asked with a frown. + +"About the best policy for the leaders of public opinion to pursue to more +rapidly advance the interests of the South----" + +"And by 'interests of the South' you mean?" + +"The best interest of all the people without regard to race or color!" + +Norton smiled: + +"You forgot part of the pass-word of your order, professor! The whole +clause used to read, 'race, color or previous condition of servitude'----" + +The sneer was lost on the professor. He was too intent on his mission. + +"I have called, Major Norton," he went on glibly, "to inform you that my +distinguished associates in the great Educational Movement in the South +view with increasing alarm the tendency of your paper to continue the +agitation of the so-called negro problem." + +"And may I ask by whose authority your distinguished associates have been +set up as the arbiters of the destiny of twenty millions of white citizens +of the South?" + +The professor flushed with amazement at the audacity of such a question: + +"They have given millions to the cause of education, sir! These great Funds +represent to-day a power that is becoming more and more resistless----" + +Norton sprang to his feet and faced Magraw with eyes flashing: + +"That's why I haven't minced matters in my references to you, professor. +That's why I'm getting ready to strike a blow in the cause of racial purity +for which my paper stands." + +"But why continue to rouse the bitterness of racial feeling? The question +will settle itself if let alone." + +"How?" + +"By the process of evolution----" + +"Exactly!" Norton thundered. "And by that you mean the gradual breaking +down of racial barriers and the degradation of our people to a mongrel +negroid level or you mean nothing! No miracle of evolution can gloss over +the meaning of such a tragedy. The Negro is the lowest of all human forms, +four thousand years below the standard of the pioneer white Aryan who +discovered this continent and peopled it with a race of empire builders. +The gradual mixture of our blood with his can only result in the extinction +of National character--a calamity so appalling the mind of every patriot +refuses to accept for a moment its possibility." + +"I am not advocating such a mixture!" the professor mildly protested. + +"In so many words, no," retorted Norton; "yet you are setting in motion +forces that make it inevitable, as certain as life, as remorseless as +death. When you demand that the patriot of the South let the Negro alone to +work out his own destiny, you know that the mere physical contact of two +such races is a constant menace to white civilization----" + +The professor raised the delicate, tapering hands: + +"The old nightmare of negro domination is only a thing with which to +frighten children, major, the danger is a myth----" + +"Indeed!" Norton sneered. "When our people saw the menace of an emancipated +slave suddenly clothed with the royal power of a ballot they met this +threat against the foundations of law and order by a counter revolution and +restored a government of the wealth, virtue and intelligence of the +community. What they have not yet seen, is the more insidious danger that +threatens the inner home life of a Democratic nation from the physical +contact of two such races." + +"And you propose to prevent that contact?" the piping voice asked. + +"Yes." + +"And may I ask how?" + +"By an ultimate complete separation through a process covering perhaps two +hundred years----" + +The professor laughed: + +"Visionary--impossible!" + +"All right," Norton slowly replied. "I see the invisible and set myself to +do the impossible. Because men have done such things the world moves +forward not backward!" + +The lavender hose moved stealthily: + +"You will advocate this?" the professor asked. + +"In due time. The Southern white man and woman still labor under the old +delusion that the negro's lazy, slipshod ways are necessary and that we +could not get along without him----" + +"And if you dare to antagonize that faith?" + +"When your work is done, professor, and the glorious results of Evolution +are shown to mean the giving in marriage of our sons and daughters, my task +will be easy. In the mean time I'll do the work at hand. The negro is still +a voter. The devices by which he is prevented from using the power to which +his numbers entitle him are but temporary. The first real work before the +statesmen of the South is the disfranchisement of the African, the repeal +of the Fifteenth Amendment to our Constitution and the restoration of +American citizenship to its original dignity and meaning." + +"A large undertaking," the professor glibly observed. "And you will dare +such a program?" + +"I'll at least strike a blow for it. The first great crime against the +purity of our racial stock was the mixture of blood which the physical +contact of slavery made inevitable. + +"But the second great crime, and by far the most tragic and disastrous, was +the insane Act of Congress inspired by the passions of the Reconstruction +period by which a million ignorant black men, but yesterday from the +jungles of Africa, were clothed with the full powers of citizenship under +the flag of Democracy and given the right by the ballot to rule a superior +race. + +"The Act of Emancipation was a war measure pure and simple. By that act +Lincoln sought to strike the South as a political power a mortal blow. He +did not free four million negroes for sentimental reasons. He destroyed +four billion dollars' worth of property invested in slaves as an act of war +to save the Union. Nothing was further from his mind or heart than the mad +idea that these Africans could be assimilated into our National life. He +intended to separate the races and give the Negro a nation of his own. But +the hand of a madman struck the great leader down in the hour of his +supreme usefulness. + +"In the anarchy which followed the assassination of the President and the +attempt of a daring coterie of fanatics in Washington to impeach his +successor and create a dictatorship, the great crime against Democracy was +committed. Millions of black men, with the intelligence of children and the +instincts of savages, were given full and equal citizenship with the breed +of men who created the Republic. + +"Any plan to solve intelligently the problem of the races must first +correct this blunder from which a stream of poison has been pouring into +our life. + +"The first step in the work of separating the races, therefore, must be to +deprive the negro of this enormous power over Democratic society. It is not +a solution of the problem, but as the great blunder was the giving of this +symbol of American kingship, our first task is to take it from him and +restore the ballot to its original sanctity." + +"Your movement will encounter difficulties, I foresee!" observed the +professor with a gracious smile. + +He was finding his task with Norton easier than he anticipated. The +editor's madness was evidently so hopeless he had only to deliver his +ultimatum and close the interview. + +"The difficulties are great," Norton went on with renewed emphasis, "but +less than they have been for the past twenty years. Until yesterday the +negro was the ward of the Nation. Any movement by a Southern state to +remove his menace was immediately met by a call to arms to defend the Union +by Northern demagogues who had never smelled powder when the Union was in +danger. + +"A foolish preacher in Boston who enjoys a National reputation has been in +the habit of rousing his hearers to a round of cheers by stamping his foot, +lifting hands above his head and yelling: + +"'The only way to save the Union now is for Northern mothers to rear more +children than Southern mothers!' + +"And the sad part of it is that thousands of otherwise sane people in New +England and other sections of the North and West believed this idiotic +statement to be literally true. It is no longer possible to fool them with +such chaff----" + +The professor rose and shook out his finely creased trousers until the +lavender hose scarcely showed: + +"I am afraid, Major Norton, that it is useless for us to continue this +discussion. You are quite determined to maintain the policy of your paper +on this point?" + +"Quite." + +"I am sorry. The _Eagle and Phoenix_ is a very powerful influence in this +state. The distinguished associates whom I represent sent me in the vain +hope that I might persuade you to drop the agitation of this subject and +join with us in developing the material and educational needs of the +South----" + +Norton laughed aloud: + +"Really, professor?" + +The visitor flushed at the marked sneer in his tones, and fumbled his +lavender tie: + +"I can only deliver to you our ultimatum, therefore----" + +"You are clothed with sovereign powers, then?" the editor asked +sarcastically. + +"If you choose to designate them so--yes. Unless you agree to drop this +dangerous and useless agitation of the negro question and give our people a +hearing in the columns of your paper, I am authorized to begin at once the +publication of a journal that will express the best sentiment of the +South----" + +"So?" + +"And I have unlimited capital to back it." + +Norton's eyes flashed as he squared himself before the professor: + +"I've not a doubt of your backing. Start your paper to-morrow if you like. +You'll find that it takes more than money to build a great organ of public +opinion in the South. I've put my immortal soul into this plant. I'll watch +your experiment with interest." + +"Thank you! Thank you," the thin voice piped. + +"And now that we understand each other," Norton went on, "you've given me +the chance to say a few things to you and your associates I've been wanting +to express for a long time----" + +Norton paused and fixed his visitor with an angry stare: + +"Not only is the Negro gaining in numbers, in wealth and in shallow +'culture,' and tightening his grip on the soil as the owner in fee simple +of thousands of homes, churches, schools and farms, but a Negroid party has +once more developed into a powerful and sinister influence on the life of +this state! You and your associates are loud in your claims to represent a +new South. In reality you are the direct descendants of the Reconstruction +Scalawag and Carpetbagger. + +"The old Scalawag was the Judas Iscariot who sold his people for thirty +pieces of silver which he got by licking the feet of his conqueror and +fawning on his negro allies. The Carpetbagger was a Northern adventurer who +came South to prey on the misfortunes of a ruined people. A new and far +more dangerous order of Scalawags has arisen--the man who boldly preaches +the omnipotence of the dollar and weighs every policy of state or society +by one standard only, will it pay in dollars and cents? And so you frown on +any discussion of the tragic problem the negro's continued pressure on +Southern society involves because it disturbs business. + +"The unparalleled growth of wealth in the North has created our enormous +Poor Funds, organized by generous well-meaning men for the purpose of +education in the South. As a matter of fact, this new educational movement +had its origin in the same soil that established negro classical schools +and attempted to turn the entire black race into preachers, lawyers, and +doctors just after the war. Your methods, however, are wiser, although your +policies are inspired, if not directed, by the fertile brain of a notorious +negro of doubtful moral character. + +"The directors of your Poor Funds profess to be the only true friends of +the true white man of the South. By a 'true white man of the South' you +mean a man who is willing to show his breadth of vision by fraternizing +occasionally with negroes. + +"An army of lickspittles have begun to hang on the coat-tails of your +dispensers of alms. Their methods are always the same. They attempt to +attract the notice of the Northern distributors by denouncing men of my +type who are earnestly, fearlessly and reverently trying to face and solve +the darkest problem the centuries have presented to America. These little +beggars have begun to vie with one another not only in denouncing the +leaders of public opinion in the South, but in fulsome and disgusting +fawning at the feet of the individual negro whose personal influence +dominates these Funds." + +Again the lavender socks moved uneasily. + +"In which category you place the author of a certain book, I suppose?" +inquired the professor. + +"I paused in the hope that you might not miss my meaning," Norton replied, +smiling. "The astounding power for the debasement of public opinion +developing through these vast corruption funds is one of the most sinister +influences which now threatens Southern society. It is the most difficult +of all to meet because its protestations are so plausible and +philanthropic. + +"The Carpetbagger has come back to the South. This time he is not a low +adventurer seeking coin and public office. He is a philanthropist who +carries hundreds of millions of dollars to be distributed to the 'right' +men who will teach Southern boys and girls the 'right' ideas. So far as +these 'right' ideas touch the negro, they mean the ultimate complete +acceptance of the black man as a social equal. + +"Your chief spokesman of this New Order of Carpetbag, for example, has +declared on many occasions that the one thing in his life of which he is +most proud is the fact that he is the personal friend of the negro whose +influence now dominates your dispensers of alms! This man positively +grovels with joy when his distinguished black friend honors him by becoming +his guest in New York. + +"With growing rage and wonder I have watched the development of this modern +phenomenon. I have fought you with sullen and unyielding fury from the +first, and you have proven the most dangerous and insidious force I have +encountered. You profess the loftiest motives and the highest altruism +while the effects of your work can only be the degradation of the white +race to an ultimate negroid level, to say nothing of the appalling results +if you really succeed in pauperizing the educational system of the South! + +"I expected to hear from your crowd when the movement for a white ballot +was begun. Through you the society of Affiliated Black League Almoners of +the South, under the direction of your inspired negro leader, have sounded +the alarm. And now all the little pigs who are feeding on this swill, and +all the hungry ones yet outside the fence and squealing to get in, will +unite in a chorus that you hope can have but one result--the division of +the white race on a vital issue affecting its purity, its integrity, and +its future. + +"The possible division of my race in its attitude toward the Negro is the +one big danger that has always hung its ugly menace over the South. So long +as her people stand united, our civilization can be protected against the +pressure of the Negro's growing millions. But the moment a serious division +of these forces occurs the black man's opportunity will be at hand. The +question is, can you divide the white race on this issue?" + +"We shall see, major, we shall see," piped the professor, fumbling his +lavender tie and bowing himself out. + +The strong jaw closed with a snap as Norton watched the silk hose +disappear. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HIS HOUSE IN ORDER + + +Norton knew from the first that there could be no hope of success in such a +campaign as he had planned except in the single iron will of a leader who +would lead and whose voice lifted in impassioned appeal direct to the white +race in every county of the state could rouse them to resistless +enthusiasm. + +The man who undertook this work must burn the bridges behind him, ask +nothing for himself and take his life daily in his hands. He knew the state +from the sea to its farthest mountain peak and without the slightest vanity +felt that God had called him to this task. There was no other man who could +do it, no other man fitted for it. He had the training, bitter experience, +and the confidence of the people. And he had no ambitions save a deathless +desire to serve his country in the solution of its greatest and most +insoluble problem. He edited the most powerful organ of public opinion in +the South and he was an eloquent and forceful speaker. His paper had earned +a comfortable fortune, he was independent, he had the training of a veteran +soldier and physical fear was something he had long since ceased to know. + +And his house was in order for the event. He could leave for months in +confidence that the work would run with the smoothness of a clock. + +He had sent Tom to a Northern university which had kept itself clean from +the stain of negro associations. The boy had just graduated with honor, +returned home and was at work in the office. He was a handsome, clean, +manly, straight-limbed, wholesome boy, the pride of his father's heart, and +had shown decided talent for newspaper work. + +Andy had long since become his faithful henchman, butler and man of all +work. Aunt Minerva, his fat, honest cook, was the best servant he had ever +known, and Cleo kept his house. + +The one point of doubt was Cleo. During the past year she had given +unmistakable signs of a determination to fight. If she should see fit to +strike in the midst of this campaign, her blow would be a crushing one. It +would not only destroy him personally, it would confuse and crush his party +in hopeless defeat. He weighed this probability from every point of view +and the longer he thought it over the less likely it appeared that she +would take such a step. She would destroy herself and her child as well. +She knew him too well now to believe that he would ever yield in such a +struggle. Helen was just graduating from a convent school in the Northwest, +a beautiful and accomplished girl, and the last thing on earth she could +suspect was that a drop of negro blood flowed in her veins. He knew Cleo +too well, understood her hatred of negroes too well, to believe that she +would deliberately push this child back into a negroid hell merely to wreak +a useless revenge that would crush her own life as well. She was too wise, +too cunning, too cautious. + +And yet her steadily growing desperation caused him to hesitate. The thing +he dreaded most was the loss of his boy's respect, which a last desperate +fight with this woman would involve. The one thing he had taught Tom was +racial cleanness. With a wisdom inspired and guided by the brooding spirit +of his mother he had done this thoroughly. He had so instilled into this +proud, sensitive boy's soul a hatred for all low association with women +that it was inconceivable to him that any decent white man would stoop to +an intrigue with a woman of negro blood. The withering scorn, the +unmeasured contempt with which he had recently expressed himself to his +father on this point had made the red blood slowly mount to the older man's +face. + +He had rather die than look into this boy's clean, manly eyes and confess +the shame that would blacken his life. The boy loved him with a deep, +tender, reverent love. His keen eyes had long ago seen the big traits in +his father's character. The boy's genuine admiration was the sweetest thing +in his lonely life. + +He weighed every move with care and deliberately made up his mind to strike +the blow and take the chances. No man had the right to weigh his personal +career against the life of a people--certainly no man who dared to assume +the leadership of a race. He rose from his desk, opened the door of the +reporters' room and called Tom. + +The manly young figure, in shirt sleeves, pad and pencil in hand, entered +with quick, firm step. + +"You want me to interview you, Governor?" he said with a laugh. "All +right--now what do you think of that little scrimmage at the mouth of the +harbor of Santiago yesterday? How's that for a Fourth of July celebration? +I ask it of a veteran of the Confederate army?" + +The father smiled proudly as the youngster pretended to be taking notes of +his imaginary interview. + +"You heard, sir," he went on eagerly, "that your old General, Joe Wheeler, +was there and in a moment of excitement forgot himself and shouted to his +aid: + +"'There go the damned Yankees!--charge and give 'em hell!'" + +A dreamy look came into the father's eyes as he interrupted: + +"I shouldn't be surprised if Wheeler said it--anyhow, it's too good a joke +to doubt"--he paused and the smile on his serious face slowly faded. + +"Shut the door, Tom," he said with a gesture toward the reporters' room. + +The boy rose, closed the door, and sat down near his father's chair: + +"Well, Dad, why so serious? Am I to be fired without a chance? or is it +just a cut in my wages? Don't prolong the agony!" + +"I am going to put you in my chair in this office, my son," the father said +in a slow drawl. The boy flushed scarlet and then turned pale. + +"You don't mean it--now?" he gasped. + +"To-morrow." + +"You think I can make good?" The question came through trembling lips and +he was looking at his father through a pair of dark blue eyes blurred by +tears of excitement. + +"You'll do better than I did at your age. You're better equipped." + +"You think so?" Tom asked in quick boyish eagerness. + +"I know it." + +The boy sprang to his feet and grasped his father's hand: + +"Your faith in me is glorious--it makes me feel like I can do anything----" + +"You can--if you try." + +"Well, if I can, it's because I've got good blood in me. I owe it all to +you. You're the biggest man I ever met, Dad. I've wanted to say this to you +for a long time, but I never somehow got up my courage to tell you what I +thought of you." + +The father slipped his arm tenderly about the boy and looked out the window +at the bright Southern sky for a moment before he slowly answered: + +"I'd rather hear that from you, Tom, than the shouts of the rest of the +world." + +"I'm going to do my level best to prove myself worthy of the big faith +you've shown in me--but why have you done it? What does it mean?" + +"Simply this, my boy, that the time has come in the history of the South +for a leader to strike the first blow in the battle for racial purity by +establishing a clean American citizenship. I am going to disfranchise the +Negro in this state as the first step toward the ultimate complete +separation of the races." + +The boy's eyes flashed: + +"It's a big undertaking, sir." + +"Yes." + +"Is it possible?" + +"Many say not. That's why I'm going to do it. The real work must come after +this first step. Just now the campaign which I'm going to inaugurate +to-morrow in a speech at the mass meeting celebrating our victory at +Santiago, is the thing in hand. This campaign will take me away from home +for several months. I must have a man here whom I can trust implicitly." + +"I'll do my best, sir," the boy broke in. + +"In case anything happens to me before it ends----" + +Tom bent close: + +"What do you mean?" + +"You never can tell what may happen in such a revolution----" + +"It will be a revolution?" + +"Yes. That's what my enemies as yet do not understand. They will not be +prepared for the weapons I shall use. And I'll win. I may lose my life, but +I'll start a fire that can't be put out until it has swept the state--the +South"--he paused--"and then the Nation!" + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE MAN OF THE HOUR + + +The editor prepared to launch his campaign with the utmost care. He invited +the Executive Committee of his party to meet in his office. The leaders +were excited. They knew Norton too well to doubt that he had something big +to suggest. Some of them came from distant sections of the state, three +hundred miles away, to hear his plans. + +He faced the distinguished group of leaders calmly, but every man present +felt the deep undercurrent of excitement beneath his words. + +"With your cooperation, gentlemen," he began, "we are going to sweep the +state this time by an overwhelming majority----" + +"That's the way to talk!" the Chairman shouted. + +"Four years ago," he went on, "we were defeated for the first time since +the overthrow of the negro government under the Reconstruction regime. This +defeat was brought about by a division of the whites under the Socialistic +program of the Farmers' Alliance. Gradually the black man has forced +himself into power under the new regime. Our farmers only wished his votes +to accomplish their plans and have no use for him as an officeholder. The +rank and file of the white wing, therefore, of the allied party in power, +are ripe for revolt if the Negro is made an issue." + +The Committee cheered. + +"I propose to make the Negro the only issue of this campaign. There will be +no half-way measures, no puling hesitation, no weakness, and it will be a +fight to the death in the open. The day for secret organizations has gone +in Southern history. There is no Black League to justify a reorganization +of the Klan. But the new Black League has a far more powerful organization. +Its mask is now philanthropy, not patriotism. Its weapon is the lure of +gold, not the flash of Federal bayonets. They will fight to divide the +white race on this vital issue. + +"Here is our danger. It is real. It is serious. But we must meet it. There +is but one way, and that is to conduct a campaign of such enthusiasm, of +such daring and revolutionary violence if need be, that the little henchmen +and sycophants of the Dispensers of the National Poor Funds will be awed +into silence. + +"The leadership of such a campaign will be a dangerous one. I offer you my +services without conditions. I ask nothing for myself. I will accept no +honors. I offer you my time, my money, my paper, my life if need be!" + +The leaders rose as one man, grasped Norton's hand, and placed him in +command. + +No inkling of even the outlines of his radical program was allowed to leak +out until the hour of the meeting of the party convention. The delegates +were waiting anxiously for the voice of a leader who would sound the note +of victory. + +And when the platform was read to the convention declaring in simple, bold +words that the time had come for the South to undo the crime of the +Fifteenth Amendment, disfranchise the Negro and restore to the Nation the +basis of white civilization, a sudden cheer like a peal of thunder swept +the crowd, followed by the roar of a storm. It died away at last in waves +of excited comment, rose again and swelled and rose higher and higher until +the old wooden building trembled. + +Again and again such assemblies had declared in vague terms for "White +Supremacy." Campaign after campaign which followed the blight of negro rule +twenty years before had been fought and won on this issue. But no man or +party had dared to whisper what "White Supremacy" really meant. There was +no fog about this platform. For the first time in the history of the party +it said exactly what was meant in so many words. + +Thoughtful men had long been weary of platitudes on this subject. The Negro +had grown enormously in wealth, in numbers and in social power in the past +two decades. As a full-fledged citizen in a Democracy he was a constant +menace to society. Here, for the first time, was the announcement of a +definite program. It was revolutionary. It meant the revision of the +constitution of the Union and a challenge to the negro race, and all his +sentimental allies in the Republic for a fight to a finish. + +The effect of its bare reading was electric. The moment the Chairman tried +to lift his voice the cheers were renewed. The hearts of the people had +been suddenly thrilled by a great ideal. No matter whether it meant success +or failure, no matter whether it meant fame or oblivion for the man who +proposed it, every intelligent delegate in that hall knew instinctively +that a great mind had spoken a bold principle that must win in the end if +the Republic live. + +Norton rose at last to advocate its adoption as the one issue of the +campaign, and again pandemonium broke loose--now they knew that he had +written it! They suspected it from the first. Instantly his name was on a +thousand lips in a shout that rent the air. + +He stood with his tall figure drawn to its full height, his face unearthly +pale, wreathed in its heavy shock of iron-gray hair and waited, without +recognizing the tumult, until the last shout had died away. + +His speech was one of passionate and fierce appeal--the voice of the +revolutionist who had boldly thrown off the mask and called his followers +to battle. + +Yet through it all, the big unspoken thing behind his words was the magic +that really swayed his hearers. They felt that what he said was great, but +that he could say something greater if he would. As he had matured in years +he had developed this reserved power. All who came in personal touch with +the man felt it instinctively with his first word. An audience, with its +simpler collective intelligence, felt it overwhelmingly. Yet if he had +dared reveal to this crowd the ideas seething in his brain behind the +simple but bold political proposition, he could not have carried them with +him. They were not ready for it. He knew that to merely take the ballot +from the negro and allow him to remain in physical touch with the white +race was no solution of the problem. But he was wise enough to know that +but one step could be taken at a time in a great movement to separate +millions of blacks from the entanglements of the life of two hundred years. + +His platform expressed what he believed could be accomplished, and the +convention at the conclusion of his eloquent speech adopted it by +acclamation amid a scene of wild enthusiasm. + +He refused all office, except the position of Chairman of the Executive +Committee without pay, and left the hall the complete master of the +politics of his party. + +Little did he dream in this hour of triumph the grim tragedy the day's work +had prepared in his own life. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +A WOMAN SCORNED + + +As the time drew near for Norton to take the field in the campaign whose +fierce passions would mark a new era in the state's history, his uneasiness +over the attitude of Cleo increased. + +She had received the announcement of his approaching long absence with +sullen anger. And as the purpose of the campaign gradually became clear she +had watched him with growing suspicion and hate. He felt it in every glance +she flashed from the depth of her greenish eyes. + +Though she had never said it in so many words, he was sure that the last +hope of a resumption of their old relations was fast dying in her heart, +and that the moment she realized that he was lost to her would be the +signal for a desperate attack. What form the attack would take he could +only guess. He was sure it would be as deadly as her ingenuity could +invent. Yet in the wildest flight of his imagination he never dreamed the +daring thing she had really decided to do. + +On the night before his departure he was working late in his room at the +house. The office he had placed in Tom's hands before the meeting of the +convention. The boy's eager young face just in front of him when he made +his speech that day had been an inspiration. It had beamed with pride and +admiration, and when his father's name rang from every lip in the great +shout that shook the building Tom's eyes had filled with tears. + +Norton was seated at his typewriter, which he had moved to his room, +writing his final instructions. The last lines he put in caps: + + "UNDER NO CONCEIVABLE CIRCUMSTANCES ANNOY ME WITH ANYTHING + THAT HAPPENS AT HOME, UNLESS A MATTER OF IMMEDIATE LIFE AND + DEATH, ANYTHING ELSE CAN WAIT UNTIL MY RETURN." + +He had just finished this important sentence when the sound of a footstep +behind his chair caused him to turn suddenly. + +Cleo had entered the room and stood glaring at him with a look of sullen +defiance. + +By a curious coincidence or by design, she was dressed in a scarlet kimono +of the same shade of filmy Japanese stuff as the one she wore in his young +manhood. His quick eye caught this fact in a flash and his mind took rapid +note of the changes the years had wrought. Their burdens had made slight +impression on her exhaustless vitality. Whatever might be her personality +or her real character, she was alive from the crown of her red head to the +tips of her slippered toes. + +Her attitude of tense silence sparkled with this vital power more +eloquently than when she spoke with quick energy in the deep voice that was +her most remarkable possession. + +Her figure was heavier by twenty pounds than when she had first entered his +home, but she never produced the impression of stoutness. Her form was too +sinuous, pliant and nervous to take on flesh. She was no longer the +graceful girl of eighteen whose beauty had drugged his senses, but she was +beyond all doubt a woman of an extraordinary type, luxuriant, sensuous, +dominant. There was not a wrinkle on her smooth creamy skin nor a trace of +approaching age about the brilliant greenish eyes that were gazing into his +now with such grim determination. + +He wheeled from his machine and faced her, his eyes taking in with a quick +glance the evident care with which she had arranged her hair and the +startling manner in which she was dressed. + +He spoke with sharp, incisive emphasis: + +"It was a condition of your return that you should never enter my room +while I am in this house." + +"I have not forgotten," she answered firmly, her eyes holding his steadily. + +"Why have you dared?" + +"You are still afraid of me?" she asked with a light laugh that was half a +sneer. + +"Have I given you any such evidence during the past twenty years?" + +There was no bitterness or taunt in the even, slow drawl with which he +spoke, but the woman knew that he never used the slow tone with which he +uttered those words except he was deeply moved. + +She flushed, was silent and then answered with a frown: + +"No, you haven't shown any fear for something more than twenty years--until +a few days ago." + +The last clause she spoke very quickly as she took a step closer and +paused. + +"A few days ago?" he repeated slowly. + +"Yes. For the past week you _have_ been afraid of me--not in the sense I +asked you just now perhaps"--her white teeth showed in two even perfect +rows--"but you have been watching me out of the corners of your +eyes--haven't you?" + +"Perhaps." + +"I wonder why?" + +"And you haven't guessed?" + +"No, but I'm going to find out." + +"You haven't asked." + +"I'm going to." + +"Be quick about it!" + +"I'm going to find out--that's why I came in here to-night in defiance of +your orders." + +"All right--the quicker the better!" + +"Thank you, I'm not in a hurry." + +"What do you want?" he demanded with anger. + +She smiled tauntingly: + +"It's no use to get mad about it! I'm here now, you see that I'm not afraid +of you and I'm quite sure that you will not put me out until I'm ready to +go----" + +He sprang to his feet and advanced on her: + +"I'm not so sure of that!" + +"Well, I am," she cried, holding his gaze steadily. + +He threw up his hands with a gesture of disgust and resumed his seat: + +"What is it?" + +She crossed the room deliberately, carrying a chair in front of her, sat +down, leaned her elbow on his table and studied him a moment, their eyes +meeting in a gaze of deadly hostility. + +"What is the meaning of this long absence you have planned?" + +"I have charge of this campaign. I am going to speak in every county in the +state." + +"Why?" + +"Because I'll win that way, by a direct appeal to the people." + +"Why do you want to win?" + +"Because I generally do what I undertake." + +"Why do you want to do this thing?" + +He looked at her in amazement. Her eyes had narrowed to the tiniest lines +as she asked these questions with a steadily increasing intensity. + +"What are you up to?" he asked her abruptly. + +"I want to know why you began this campaign at all?" + +"I decline to discuss the question with you," he answered abruptly. + +"I insist on it!" + +"You wouldn't know what I was talking about," he replied with contempt. + +"I think I would." + +"Bah!" + +He turned from her with a wave of angry dismissal, seized his papers and +began to read again his instructions to Tom. + +"I'm not such a fool as you think," she began menacingly. "I've read your +platform with some care and I've been thinking it over at odd times since +your speech was reported." + +"And you contemplate entering politics?" he interrupted with a smile. + +"Who knows?" + +She watched him keenly while she slowly uttered these words and saw the +flash of uneasiness cross his face, "But don't worry," she laughed. + +"I'll not!" + +"You may for all that!" she sneered, "but I'll not enter politics as you +fear. That would be too cheap. I don't care what you do to negroes. I've a +drop of their blood in me----" + +"One in eight, to be exact." + +"But I'm not one of them, except by your laws, and I hate the sight of a +negro. You can herd them, colonize them, send them back to Africa or to the +devil for all I care. Your program interests me for another reason"--she +paused and watched him intently. + +"Yes?" he said carelessly. + +"It interests me for one reason only--you wrote that platform, you made +that speech, you carried that convention. Your man Friday is running for +Governor. You are going to take the stump, carry this election and take the +ballot from the Negro!" + +"Well?" + +"I'm excited about it merely because it shows the inside of your mind." + +"Indeed!" + +"Yes. It shows either that you are afraid of me or that you're not----" + +"It couldn't well show both," he interrupted with a sneer. + +"It might," she answered. "If you are afraid of me and my presence is the +cause of this outburst, all right. I'll still play the game with you and +win or lose. I'll take my chances. But if you're not afraid of me, if +you've really not been on your guard for twenty years, it means another +thing. It means that you've learned your lesson, that the book of the past +is closed, and that you have simply been waiting for the time to come to +do this thing and save your people from a danger before which you once +fell." + +"And which horn of the dilemma do you take?" he asked coldly. + +"I haven't decided--but I will to-night." + +"How interesting!" + +"Yes, isn't it?" she leaned close. "With a patience that must have caused +you wonder, with a waiting through years as God waits, I have endured your +indifference, your coldness, your contempt. Each year I have counted the +last that you could resist the call of my body and soul, and at the end of +each year I have seen you further and further away from me and the gulf +between us deeper and darker. This absence you have planned in this +campaign means the end one way or the other. I'm going to face life now as +it is, not as I've hoped it might be." + +"I told you when you made your bargain to return to this house, that there +could be nothing between us except a hate that is eternal----" + +"And I didn't believe it! Now I'm going to face it if I must----" + +She paused, breathed deeply and her eyes were like glowing coals as she +slowly went on: + +"I'm not the kind to give up without a fight. I've lived and learned the +wisdom of caution and cunning. I'm not old and I've still a fool's +confidence in my powers. I'm not quite thirty-nine, strong and sound in +body and spirit, alive to my finger tips with the full blood of a grown +woman--and so I warn you----" + +"You warn me"--he cried with a flush of anger. + +"Yes. I warn you not to push me too far. I have negro blood in me, but I'm +at least human, and I'm going to be treated as a human being." + +"And may I ask what you mean by that?" he asked sarcastically. + +"That I'm going to demand my rights." + +"Demand?" + +"Exactly." + +"Your _rights_?" + +"The right to love----" + +Norton broke into a bitter, angry laugh: + +"Are you demanding that I marry you?" + +"I'm not quite that big a fool. No. Your laws forbid it. All right--there +are higher laws than yours. The law that drew you to me in this room twenty +years ago, in spite of all your fears and your prejudices"--she paused and +her eyes glowed in the shadows--"I gave you my soul and body then----" + +"Gifts I never sought----" + +"Yet you took them and I'm here a part of your life. What are you going to +do with me? I'm not the negro race. I'm just a woman who loves you and asks +that you treat her fairly." + +"Treat you fairly! Did I ever want you? Or seek you? You came to me, thrust +yourself into my office, and when I discharged you, pushed your way into my +home. You won my boy's love and made my wife think you were indispensable +to her comfort and happiness. I tried to avoid you. It was useless. You +forced yourself into my presence at all hours of the day and night. What +happened was your desire, not mine. And when I reproached myself with +bitter curses you laughed for joy! And you talk to me to-day of fairness! +You who dragged me from that banquet hall the night of my triumph to hurl +me into despair! You who blighted my career and sent me blinded with grief +and shame groping through life with the shadow of death on my soul! You who +struck your bargain of a pound of flesh next to my heart, and fought your +way back into my house again to hold me a prisoner for life, chained to the +dead body of my shame--you talk to me about fairness--great God!" + +He stopped, strangled with passion, his tall figure towering above her, his +face livid, his hands clutched in rage. + +She laughed hysterically: + +"Why don't you strike! I'm not your equal in strength--I dare you to do +it--I dare you to do it! I _dare_ you--do you hear?" + +With a sudden grip she tore the frail silk from its fastenings at her +throat, pressed close and thrust her angry face into his in a desperate +challenge to physical violence. + +His eyes held hers a moment and his hands relaxed: + +"I'd like to kill you. I could do it with joy!" + +"Why don't you?" + +"You're not worth the price of such a crime!" + +"You'd just as well do it, as to wish it. Don't be a coward!" Her eyes +burned with suppressed fire. + +He looked at her with cold anger and his lip twitched with a smile of +contempt. + +The strain was more than her nerves could bear. With a sob she threw her +arms around his neck. He seized them angrily, her form collapsed and she +clung to him with blind hysterical strength. + +He waited a moment and spoke in quiet determined tones: + +[Illustration: "'I _dare_ you--do you hear?'"] + +"Enough of this now." + +She raised her eyes to his, pleading with desperation: + +"Please be kind to me just this last hour before you go, and I'll be +content if you give no more. I'll never intrude again." + +She relaxed her hold, dropped to a seat and covered her face with her +hands: + +"Oh, my God! Are you made of stone--have you no pity? Through all these +years I've gone in and out of this house looking into your face for a sign +that you thought me human, and you've given none. I've lived on the +memories of the few hours when you were mine. I've sometimes told myself it +was just a dream, that it never happened--until I've almost believed it. +You've pretended that it wasn't true. You've strangled these memories and +told yourself over and over again that it never happened. I've seen you +doing this--seen it in your cold, deep eyes. Well, it's a lie! You were +mine! You shall not forget it--you can't forget it--I won't let you, I tell +you!" + +The voice broke again into sobs. + +He stood with arms folded, watching her in silence. Her desperate appeal to +his memories and his physical passion had only stirred anger and contempt. +He was seeing now as he had never noticed before the growing marks of her +negroid character. The anger was for her, the contempt for himself. He +noticed the growth of her lips with age, the heavy sensual thickness of the +negroid type! + +It was inconceivable that in this room the sight of her had once stirred +the Beast in him to incontrollable madness. There was at least some +consolation in the fact that he had made progress. He couldn't see this if +he hadn't moved to a higher plane. + +He spoke at length in quiet tones: + +"I am waiting for you to go. I have work to do to-night." + +She rose with a quick, angry movement: + +"It's all over, then. There's not a chance that you'll change your mind?" + +"Not if you were the last woman on earth and I the last man." + +He spoke without bitterness but with a firmness that was final. + +"All right. I know what to expect now and I'll plan my own life." + +"What do you mean?" + +"That there's going to be a change in my relations to your servants for one +thing." + +"Your relations to my servants?" he repeated incredulously. + +"Yes." + +"In what respect?" + +"I'm not going to take any more insolence from Minerva----" + +"Keep out of the kitchen and let her alone. She's the best cook I ever +had." + +"If I keep this house for you, I demand the full authority of my position. +I'll hire the servants and discharge them when I choose." + +"You'll do nothing of the kind," he answered firmly. + +"Then I demand that you discharge Minerva and Andy at once." + +"What's the matter with Andy?" + +"I loathe him." + +"Well, I like him, and he's going to stay. Anything else?" + +"You'll pay no attention to my wishes?" + +"I'm master of this house." + +"And in your absence?" + +"My son will be here." + +"All right, I understand now." + +"If I haven't made it plain, I'll do so." + +"Quite clear, thank you," she answered slowly. + +Norton walked to the mantel, leaned his elbow on the shelf for a moment, +returned and confronted her with his hands thrust into his pockets, his +feet wide apart, his whole attitude one of cool defiance. + +"Now I want to know what you're up to? These absurd demands are a blind. +They haven't fooled me. There's something else in the back of your devilish +mind. What is it? I want to know exactly what you mean?" + +Cleo laughed a vicious little ripple of amusement: + +"Yes, I know you do--but you won't!" + +"All right, as you please. A word from you and Helen's life is blasted. A +word from you and I withdraw from this campaign, and another will lead it. +Speak that word if you dare, and I'll throw you out of this house and your +last hold on my life is broken." + +"I've thought of that, too," she said with a smile. + +"It will be worth the agony I'll endure," he cried, "to know that I'm free +of you and breathe God's clean air at last!" + +He spoke the words with an earnestness, a deep and bitter sincerity, that +was not lost on her keen ears. + +She started to reply, hesitated and was silent. + +He saw his advantage and pressed it: + +"I want you to understand fully that I know now and I have always known +that I am at your mercy when you see fit to break the word you pledged. Yet +there has never been a moment during the past twenty years that I've been +really afraid of you. When the hour comes for my supreme humiliation, I'll +meet it. Speak as soon as you like." + +She had walked calmly to the door, paused and looked back: + +"You needn't worry, major," she said smoothly, "I'm not quite such a fool +as all that. I've been silent too many years. It's a habit I'll not easily +break." Her white teeth gleamed in a cold smile as she added: + +"Good night." + +A hundred times he told himself that she wouldn't dare, but he left home +next lay with a sickening fear slowly stealing into his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +AN OLD COMEDY + + +Norton had scarcely passed his gate on the way to catch the train when Cleo +left the window, where her keen eyes had been watching, and made her way +rapidly to the room he had just vacated. + +Books and papers were scattered loosely over his table beside the +typewriter which he had, with his usual carelessness, left open. + +With a quick decision she seated herself beside the machine and in two +hours sufficiently mastered its use to write a letter by using a single +finger and carefully touching the keys one by one. + +The light of a cunning purpose burned in her eyes as she held up the letter +which she had written on a sheet paper with the embossed heading of his +home address at the top. + +She re-read it, smiling over the certainty of the success of her plan. The +letter was carefully and simply worded: + + "MY DEAR MISS HELEN: + + "As your guardian is still in Europe, I feel it my duty, and + a pleasant one, to give you a glimpse of the South before + you go abroad. Please come at once to my home for as long as + you care to stay. If I am away in the campaign when you + arrive, my son and housekeeper, Cleo, will make you at home + and I trust happy. + + "With kindest regards, and hoping to see you soon, + + "Sincerely, + + "DANIEL NORTON." + + + +The signature she practiced with a pen for half an hour until her imitation +was almost perfect and then signed it. Satisfied with the message, she +addressed an envelope to "Miss Helen Winslow, Convent of the Sacred Heart, +Racine, Wisconsin," sealed and posted it with her own hand. + +The answer came six days later. Cleo recognized the post mark at once, +broke the seal and read it with dancing eyes: + + "MY DEAR MAJOR NORTON: + + "I am wild with joy over your kind invitation. As my last + examinations are over I will not wait for the Commencement + exercises. I am so excited over this trip I just can't wait. + I am leaving day after to-morrow and hope to arrive almost + as soon as this letter. + + "With a heart full of gratitude, + + "Your lonely ward, + + "HELEN." + + + +Two days later a hack rolled up the graveled walk to the white porch, a +girl leaped out and bounded up the steps, her cheeks flushed, her wide open +blue eyes dancing with excitement. + +She was evidently surprised to find that Cleo was an octoroon, blushed and +extended her hand with a timid hesitating look: + +"This--this--is Cleo--the major's housekeeper?" she asked. + +The quick eye of the woman took in at a glance the charm of the shy +personality and the loneliness of the young soul that looked out from her +expressive eyes. + +"Yes," she answered mechanically. + +"I'm so sorry that the major's away--the driver told me----" + +"Oh, it's all right," Cleo said with a smile, "he wrote us to make you feel +at home. Just walk right in, your room is all ready." + +"Thank you so much," Helen responded, drawing a deep breath and looking +over the lawn with its green grass, its dense hedges and wonderful clusters +of roses in full bloom. "How beautiful the South is--far more beautiful +than I had dreamed! And the perfume of these roses--why, the air is just +drowsy with their honey! We have gorgeous roses in the North, but I never +smelled them in the open before"--she paused and breathed deeply again and +again--"Oh, it's fairyland--I'll never want to go!" + +"I hope you won't," Cleo said earnestly. + +"The major asked me to stay as long as I wished. I have his letter +here"--she drew the letter from her bag and opened it--"see what he says: +'Please come at once to my home for as long as you can stay'--now wasn't +that sweet of him?" + +"Very," was the strained reply. + +The girl's sensitive ear caught the queer note in Cleo's voice and looked +at her with a start. + +"Come, I must show you to your room," she added, hurriedly opening the door +for Helen to pass. + +The keen eyes of the woman were scanning the girl and estimating her +character with increasing satisfaction. She walked with exquisite grace. +Her figure was almost the exact counterpart of her own at twenty--Helen's +a little fuller, the arms larger but more beautiful. The slender wrists and +perfectly moulded hand would have made a painter beg for a sitting. Her +eyes were deep blue and her hair the richest chestnut brown, massive and +slightly waving, her complexion the perfect white and red of the Northern +girl who had breathed the pure air of the fields and hills. The sure, +swift, easy way in which she walked told of perfect health and exhaustless +vitality. Her voice was low and sweet and full of shy tenderness. + +A smile of triumph flashed from Cleo's greenish eyes as she watched her +swiftly cross the hall toward the stairs. + +"I'll win!" she exclaimed softly. + +Helen turned sharply. + +"Did you speak to me?" she asked blushing. + +"No. I was just thinking aloud." + +"Excuse me, I thought you said something to me--" + +"It would have been something very nice if I had," Cleo said with a +friendly smile. + +"Thank you--oh, I feel that I'm going to be so happy here!" + +"I hope so." + +"When do you think the major will come?" + +The woman's face clouded in spite of her effort at self-control: + +"It may be a month or more." + +"Oh, I'm so anxious to see him! He has been acting for my old guardian, who +is somewhere abroad, ever since I can remember. I've begged and begged him +to come to see me, but he never came. It was so far away, I suppose. He +never even sent me his picture, though I've asked him often. What sort of a +man is he?" + +Cleo smiled and hesitated, and then spoke with apparent carelessness: + +"A very striking looking man." + +"With a kind face?" + +"A very stern one, clean shaven, with deep set eyes, a firm mouth, a strong +jaw that can be cruel when he wishes, a shock of thick iron gray hair, +tall, very tall and well built. He weighs two hundred and fifteen now--he +was very thin when young." + +"And his voice?" + +"Gentle, but sometimes hard as steel when he wishes it to be." + +"Oh, I'll be scared to death when I see him! I had pictured him just the +opposite." + +"How?" + +"Why, I hardly know--but I thought his voice would be always gentle like I +imagine a Southern father's who loved his children very much. And I thought +his hair would be blonde, with a kind face and friendly laughing +eyes--blue, like mine. His eyes aren't blue?" + +"Dark brown." + +"I know I'll run when he comes." + +"We'll make you feel at home and you'll not be afraid. Mr. Tom will be here +to lunch in a few minutes and I'll introduce you." + +"Then I must dress at once!" + +"The first door at the head of the stairs--your trunk has already been +taken up." + +Cleo watched the swift, strong, young form mount the stairs. + +"It's absolutely certain!" she cried under her breath. "I'll win--I'll +win!" + +She broke into a low laugh and hurried to set the table in a bower of the +sweetest roses that were in bloom. Their languorous odor filled the house. + +Helen was waiting in the old-fashioned parlor when Tom's step echoed on the +stoop. Cleo hurried to meet him on the porch. + +His face clouded with a scowl: + +"She's here?" + +"Yes, Mr. Handsome Boy," Cleo answered cheerfully. "And lunch is ready--do +rub that awful scowl off your face and look like you're glad." + +"Well, I'm not--so what's the use? It'll be a mess to have a girl on my +hands day and night and I've got no time for it. I wish Dad was here. I +know I'll hate the sight of her." + +Cleo smiled: + +"Better wait until you see her." + +"Where is she?" + +"In the parlor." + +"All right--the quicker a disagreeable job's over the better." + +"Shall I introduce you?" + +"No, I'll do it myself," he growled, bracing himself for the ordeal. + +As he entered the door he stopped short at the vision as Helen sprang to +her feet and came to meet him. She was dressed in the softest white filmy +stuff, as light as a feather, bare arms and neck, her blue eyes sparkling +with excitement, her smooth, fair cheeks scarlet with blushes. + +The boy's heart stopped beating in sheer surprise. He expected a frowzy +little waif from an orphanage, blear-eyed, sad, soulful and tiresome. + +This shining, blushing, wonderful creature took his breath. He stared at +first with open mouth, until Cleo's laugh brought him to his senses just as +he began to hear Helen's low sweet voice: + +"And this is Mr. Tom, I suppose? I am Helen Winslow, your father's ward, +from the West--at least he's all the guardian I've ever known." + +Tom grasped the warm little hand extended in so friendly greeting and held +it in dazed surprise until Cleo's low laughter again roused him. + +"Yes--I--I--am delighted to see you, Miss Helen, and I'm awfully sorry my +father couldn't be here to welcome you. I--I'll do the best I can for you +in his absence." + +"Oh, thank you," she murmured. + +"You know you're not at all like I expected to find you," he said +hesitatingly. + +"I hope I haven't disappointed you," she answered demurely. + +"No--no"--he protested--"just the opposite." + +He stopped and blushed for fear he'd said too much. + +"And you're just the opposite from what I'd pictured you since Cleo told me +how your father looks." + +"And what did you expect?" he asked eagerly. + +"A stern face, dark hair, dark eyes and a firm mouth." + +"And you find instead?" + +Helen laughed: + +"I'm afraid you love flattery." + +Tom hurried to protest: + +"Really, I wasn't fishing for a compliment, but I'm so unlike my father, +it's a joke. I get my blonde hair and blue eyes from my mother and my +great-grandfather." + +Before he knew what was happening Tom was seated by her side talking and +laughing as if they had known each other a lifetime. + +Helen paused for breath, put her elbow on the old mahogany table, rested +her dimpled chin in the palm of her pretty hand and looked at Tom with a +mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes. + +"What's the joke?" he asked. + +"Do you know that you're the first boy I ever talked to in my life?" + +"No--really?" he answered incredulously. + +"Don't you think I do pretty well?" + +"Perfectly wonderful!" + +"You see, I've played this scene so many times in my day dreams----" + +"And it's like your dream?" + +"Remarkably!" + +"How?" + +"You're just the kind of boy I always thought I'd meet first----" + +"How funny!" + +"Yes, exactly," she cried excitedly and with a serious tone in her voice +that was absolutely convincing. "You're so jolly and friendly and easy to +talk to, I feel as if I've known you all my life." + +"And I feel the same--isn't it funny?" + +They both laughed immoderately. + +"Come," the boy cried, "I want to show you my mother's and my grandfather's +portraits in the library. You'll see where I get my silly blonde hair, my +slightly pug nose and my very friendly ways." + +She rose with a laugh: + +"Your nose isn't pug, it's just good-humored." + +"Amount to the same thing." + +"And your hair is very distinguished looking for a boy. I'd envy it, if it +were a girl's." + +Tom led the way into the big, square library which opened on the pillared +porch both on the rear and on the side of the house. Before the fireplace +he paused and pointed to his mother's portrait done in oil by a famous +artist in New York. + +It was life-size and the canvas filled the entire space between the two +fluted columns of the Colonial mantel which reached to the ceiling. The +woodwork of the mantelpiece was of dark mahogany and the background of the +portrait the color of bright gold which seemed to melt into the lines of +the massive smooth gilded frame. + +The effect was wonderfully vivid and life-like in the sombre coloring of +the book-lined walls. The picture and frame seemed a living flame in its +dark setting. The portrait was an idealized study of the little mother. The +artist had put into his canvas the spirit of the tenderest brooding +motherhood. The very curve of her arms holding the child to her breast +seemed to breathe tenderness. The smile that played about her delicate lips +and blue eyes was ethereal in its fleeting spirit beauty. + +The girl caught her breath in surprise: + +"What a wonderful picture--it's perfectly divine! I feel like kneeling +before it." + +"It is an altar," the boy said reverently. "I've seen my father sit in that +big chair brooding for hours while he looked at it. And ever since he put +those two old gold candlesticks in front of it I can't get it out of my +head that he slips in here, kneels in the twilight and prays before it." + +"He must have loved your mother very tenderly," she said softly. + +"I think he worships her still," the boy answered simply. + +"Oh, I could die for a man like that!" she cried with sudden passion. + +Tom pointed to his grandfather's portrait: + +"And there you see my distinguished features and my pug nose----" + +Cleo appeared in the door smiling: + +"I've been waiting for you to come to lunch, Mr. Boy, for nearly an hour." + +"Well, for heaven's sake, why didn't you let us know?" + +"I told you it was ready when you came." + +"Forgot all about it." + +He was so serenely unconscious of anything unusual in his actions that he +failed to notice the smile that continuously played about Cleo's mouth or +to notice Andy's evident enjoyment of the little drama as he bowed and +scraped and waited on the table with unusual ceremony. + +Aunt Minerva, hearing Andy's report of the sudden affair that had developed +in the major's absence, left the kitchen and stood in the door a moment, +her huge figure completely filling the space while she watched the +unconscious boy and girl devouring each other with sparkling eyes. + +She waved her fat hand over their heads to Andy, laughed softly and left +without their noticing her presence. + +The luncheon was the longest one that had been known within the memory of +anyone present. Minerva again wandered back to the door, fascinated by the +picture they made, and whispered to Andy as he passed: + +"Well, fer de Lawd's sake, is dey gwine ter set dar all day?" + +"Nobum--'bout er nodder hour, an' he'll go back ter de office." + +Tom suddenly looked at his watch: + +"Heavens! I'm late. I'll run down to the office and cut the work out for +the day in honor of your coming." + +Helen rose blushing: + +"Oh, I'm afraid I'll make trouble for you." + +"No trouble at all! I'll be back in ten minutes." + +"I'll be on the lawn in that wilderness of roses. The odor is +maddening--it's so sweet." + +"All right--and then I'll show you the old rose garden the other side of +the house." + +"It's awfully good of you, but I'm afraid I'm taking your time from work." + +"It's all right! I'll make the other fellows do it to-day." + +She blushed again and waved her bare arm high over her dark brown hair from +the porch as he swung through the gate and disappeared. + +In a few minutes he had returned. Through the long hours of a beautiful +summer afternoon they walked through the enchanted paths of the old garden +on velvet feet, the boy pouring out his dreams and high ambitions, the +girl's lonely heart for the first time in life basking in the joyous light +of a perfect day. + +Andy made an excuse to go in the garden and putter about some flowers just +to watch them, laugh and chuckle over the exhibition. He was just in time +as he softly approached behind a trellis of climbing roses to hear Tom +say: + +"Please give me that bud you're wearing?" + +"Why?" she asked demurely. + +"Just because I've taken a fancy to it." + +She blushed scarlet, took the rosebud from her bosom and pinned it on his +coat: + +"All right--there!" + +Andy suppressed a burst of laughter and hurried back to report to Minerva. + +For four enchanted weeks the old comedy of life was thus played by the boy +and girl in sweet and utter unconsciousness of its meaning. He worked only +in the mornings and rushed home for lunch unusually early. The afternoon +usually found them seated side by side slowly driving over the quiet +country roads. Two battlefields of the civil war, where his father had led +a regiment of troops in the last desperate engagement with Sherman's army +two weeks after Lee had surrendered at Appomattox, kept them busy each +afternoon for a week. + +At night they sat on the moonlit porch behind the big pillars and he talked +to her of the great things of life with simple boyish enthusiasm. Sometimes +they walked side by side through the rose-scented lawn and paused to hear +the love song of a mocking-bird whose mate was busy each morning teaching +her babies to fly. + +The world had become a vast rose garden of light and beauty, filled with +the odors of flowers and spices and dreamy strains of ravishing music. + +And behind it all, nearer crept the swift shadow whose tread was softer +than the foot of a summer's cloud. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +TRAPPED + + +Norton's campaign during its first months was a continuous triumph. The +opposition had been so completely stunned by the epoch-making declaration +of principles on which he had chosen to conduct the fight that they had as +yet been unable to rally their forces. Even the rival newspaper, founded to +combat the ideas for which the _Eagle and Phoenix_ stood, was compelled to +support Norton's ticket to save itself from ruin. The young editor found a +source of endless amusement in taunting the professor on this painful fact. + +The leader had chosen to begin his tour of the state in the farthest +mountain counties that had always been comparatively free from negro +influence. These counties were counted as safe for the opposition before +the startling program of the editor's party had been announced. Yet from +the first day's mass meeting which he had addressed an enthusiasm had been +developed under the spell of Norton's eloquence that had swept the crowds +of mountaineers off their feet. They had never been slave owners, and they +had no use for a negro as servant, laborer, voter, citizen, or in any other +capacity. The idea of freeing the state forever from their baleful +influence threw the entire white race into solid ranks supporting his +ticket. + +The enthusiasm kindled in the mountains swept the foothills, gaining +resistless force as it reached the more inflammable feelings of the people +of the plains who were living in daily touch with the negro. + +Yet amid all the scenes of cheering and enthusiasm through which he was +passing daily the heart of the leader was heavy with dread. His mind was +brooding over the last scene with Cleo and its possible outcome. + +He began to worry with increasing anguish over the certainty that when she +struck the blow would be a deadly one. The higher the tide of his triumph +rose, the greater became the tension of his nerves. Each day had its +appointment to speak. Some days were crowded with three or four +engagements. These dates were made two weeks ahead and great expense had +been incurred in each case to advertise them and secure record crowds. It +was a point of honor with him to make good these dates even to the smallest +appointment at a country crossroads. + +It was impossible to leave for a trip home. It would mean the loss of at +least four days. Yet his anxiety at last became so intense that he +determined to rearrange his dates and swing his campaign into the territory +near the Capital at once. It was not a good policy. He would risk the loss +of the cumulative power of his work now sweeping from county to county, a +resistless force. But it would enable him to return home for a few hours +between his appointments. + +There had been nothing in Tom's reports to arouse his fears. The boy had +faithfully carried out his instructions to give no information that might +annoy him. His brief letters were bright, cheerful, and always closed with +the statement: "Everything all right at home, and I'm still jollying the +professor about supporting the cause he hates." + +When he reached the county adjoining the Capital his anxiety had reached a +point beyond endurance. It would be three days before he could connect with +a schedule of trains that would enable him to get home between the time of +his hours to speak. He simply could not wait. + +He telegraphed to Tom to send Andy to the meeting next day with a bound +volume of the paper for the year 1866 which contained some facts he wished +to use in his speech in this district. + +Andy's glib tongue would give him the information he needed. + +The train was late and the papers did not arrive in time. He was compelled +to leave his hotel and go to the meeting without them. + +An enormous crowd had gathered. And for the first time on his tour he felt +hostility in the glances that occasionally shot from groups of men as he +passed. The county was noted for its gangs of toughs who lived on the edge +of a swamp that had been the rendezvous of criminals for a century. + +The opposition had determined to make a disturbance at this meeting and if +possible end it with a riot. They counted on the editor's fiery temper when +aroused to make this a certainty. They had not figured on the cool audacity +with which he would meet such a situation. + +When he reached the speaker's stand, the county Chairman whispered: + +"They are going to make trouble here to-day." + +"Yes?" + +"They've got a speaker who's going to demand a division of time." + +The editor smiled: + +"Really?" + +"Yes," the Chairman said, nodding toward a tall, ministerial-looking +individual who was already working his way through the crowd. "That's the +fellow coming now." + +Norton turned and confronted the chosen orator of the opposition, a +backwoods preacher of a rude native eloquence whose name he had often +heard. + +He saw at a glance that he was a man of force. His strong mouth was clean +of mustache and the lower lip was shaved to the chin. A long beard covered +the massive jaws and his hair reached the collar of his coat. He had been a +deserter during the war, and a drunken member of the little Scalawag +Governor's famous guard that had attempted to rule the state without the +civil law. He had been converted in a Baptist revival at a crossroads +meeting place years before and became a preacher. His religious conversion, +however, had not reached his politics or dimmed his memory of the events of +Reconstruction. + +He had hated Norton with a deep and abiding fervor from the day he had +escaped from his battalion in the Civil War down to the present moment. + +Norton hadn't the remotest idea that he was the young recruit who had taken +to his heels on entering a battle and never stopped running until he +reached home. + +"This is Major Norton?" the preacher asked. + +"Yes," was the curt answer. + +"I demand a division of time with you in a joint discussion here, sir." + +Norton's figure stiffened and he looked at the man with a flush of anger: + +"Did you say demand?" + +"Yes, sir, I did," the preacher answered, snapping his hard mouth firmly. +"We believe in free speech in this county." + +Norton placed his hands in his pockets, and looked him over from head to +foot: + +"Well, you've got the gall of the devil, I must say, even if you do wear +the livery of heaven. You demand free speech at my expense! I like your +cheek. It cost my committee two hundred dollars to advertise this meeting +and make it a success, and you step up at the last moment and demand that I +turn it over to your party. If you want free speech, hire your own hall and +make it to your heart's content. You can't address this crowd from a +speaker's stand built with my money." + +"You refuse?" + +Norton looked at him steadily for a moment and took a step closer: + +"I am trying to convey that impression to your mind. Must I use my foot to +emphasize it?" + +The long-haired one paled slightly, turned and quickly pushed his way +through the crowd to a group awaiting him on the edge of the brush arbor +that had been built to shelter the people from the sun. The Chairman +whispered to Norton: + +"There'll be trouble certain--they're a tough lot. More than half the men +here are with him." + +"They won't be when I've finished," he answered with a smile. + +"You'd better divide with them----" + +"I'll see him in hell first!" + +Norton stepped quickly on the rude pine platform that had been erected for +the speaker and faced the crowd. For the first time on his trip the +cheering was given with moderation. + +He saw the preacher walk back under the arbor and his men distribute +themselves with apparent design in different parts of the crowd. + +He lifted his hand with a gesture to stop the applause and a sudden hush +fell over the eager, serious faces. + +His eye wandered carelessly over the throng and singled out the men he had +seen distribute themselves among them. He suddenly slipped his hand behind +him and drew from beneath his long black frock coat a big revolver and laid +it beside the pitcher of lemonade the Chairman had provided. + +A slight stir swept the crowd and the stillness could be felt. + +The speaker lifted his broad shoulders and began his speech in an intense +voice that found its way to the last man who hung on the edge of the crowd: + +"Gentlemen," he began slowly, "if there's any one present who doesn't wish +to hear what I have to say, now is the time to leave. This is my meeting, +and I will not be interrupted. If, in spite of this announcement, there +happens to be any one here who is looking for trouble"--he stopped and +touched the shining thing that lay before him--"you'll find it here on the +table--walk right up to the front." + +A cheer rent the air. He stilled it with a quick gesture and plunged into +his speech. + +In the intense situation which had developed he had forgotten the fear +that had been gnawing at his heart for the past weeks. + +At the height of his power over his audience his eye suddenly caught the +black face of Andy grinning in evident admiration of his master's +eloquence. + +Something in the symbolism of this negro grinning at him over the heads of +the people hanging breathless on his words sent a wave of sickening fear to +his heart. In vain he struggled to throw the feeling off in the midst of +his impassioned appeal. It was impossible. For the remaining half hour he +spoke as if in a trance. Unconsciously his voice was lowered to a strange +intense monotone that sent the chills down the spines of his hearers. + +He closed his speech in a silence that was strangling. + +The people were dazed and he was half-way down the steps of the rude +platform before they sufficiently recovered to break into round after round +of cheering. + +He had unconsciously made the most powerful speech of his life, and no man +in all the crowd that he had hypnotized could have dreamed the grim secret +which had been the source of his inspiration. + +Without a moment's delay he found Andy, examined the package he brought and +hurried to his room. + +"Everything all right at home, Andy?" he asked with apparent carelessness. + +The negro was still lost in admiration of Norton's triumph over his hostile +audience. + +"Yassah, you sho did set 'em afire wid dat speech, major!" he said with a +laugh. + +"And I asked you if everything was all right at home?" + +"Oh, yassah, yassah--everything's all right. Of cose, sah, dey's a few +little things always happenin'. Dem pigs get in de garden las' week an' et +everything up, an' dat ole cow er own got de hollow horn agin. But +everything else all right, sah." + +"And how's aunt Minerva?" + +"Des es big an' fat ez ebber, sah, an' er gittin' mo' unruly every +day--yassah--she's gittin' so sassy she try ter run de whole place an' me, +too." + +"And Cleo?" + +This question he asked bustling over his papers with an indifference so +perfectly assumed that Andy never guessed his interest to be more than +casual, and yet he ceased to breathe until he caught the laughing answer: + +"Oh, she's right dar holdin' her own wid Miss Minerva an' I tells her las' +week she's lookin' better dan ebber--yassah--she's all right." + +Norton felt a sense of grateful relief. His fears had been groundless. They +were preposterous to start with. The idea that she might attempt to visit +Helen in his absence was, of course, absurd. + +His next question was asked with a good-natured, hearty tone: + +"And Mr. Tom?" + +Andy laughed immoderately and Norton watched him with increasing wonder. + +"Right dar's whar my tale begins!" + +"Why, what's the matter with him?" the father asked with a touch of anxiety +in his voice. + +"Lordy, dey ain't nuttin' de _matter_ wid him 'tall--hit's a fresh cut!" + +Again Andy laughed with unction. + +"What is it?" Norton asked with impatience. "What's the matter with Tom?" + +"Nuttin' 'tall, sah--nuttin' 'tall--I nebber see 'im lookin' so well in my +life. He gets up sooner den I ebber knowed him before. He comes home +quicker an' stays dar longer an' he's de jolliest young gentleman I know +anywhar in de state. Mo' specially, sah, since dat handsome young lady from +de North come down to see us----" + +The father's heart was in his throat as he stammered: + +"A handsome young lady from the North--I don't understand!" + +"Why, Miss Helen, sah, de young lady you invite ter spen' de summer wid +us." + +Norton's eyes suddenly grew dim, he leaned on the table, stared at Andy, +and repeated blankly: + +"The young lady I asked to spend the summer with us?" + +"Yassah, Miss Helen, sah, is her name--she cum 'bout er week atter you +lef----" + +"And she's been there ever since?" he asked. + +"Yassah, an' she sho is a powerful fine young lady, sah. I don't blame +Mister Tom fer bein' crazy 'bout her!" + +There was a moment's dead silence. + +"So Tom's crazy about her?" he said in a high, nervous voice, which Andy +took for a joke. + +"Yassah, I'se had some sperience myself, sah, but I ain't nebber seen +nuttin' like dis! He des trot long atter her day an' night like a fice. An' +de funny thing, sah, is dat he doan' seem ter know dat he's doin' it. +Everybody 'bout de house laffin' fit ter kill dersef an' he don't pay no +'tention. He des sticks to her like a sick kitten to a hot brick! Yassah, +hit sho's funny! I des knowed you'd bust er laughin' when you sees 'em." + +Norton had sunk to a seat too weak to stand. His face was pale and his +breath came in short gasps as he turned to the negro, stared at him +hopelessly for a moment and said: + +"Andy, get me a good horse and buggy at the livery stable--we'll drive +through the country to-night. I want to get home right away." + +Andy's mouth opened and his eyes stared in blank amazement. + +"De Lawd, major, hit's mos' sundown now an' hit's a hundred miles from here +home--hit took me all day ter come on de train." + +"No, it's only forty miles straight across the country. We can make it +to-night with a good horse. Hurry, I'll have my valise packed in a few +minutes." + +"Do you know de way, sah?" Andy asked, scratching his head. + +"Do as I tell you--quick!" Norton thundered. + +The negro darted from the room and returned in half an hour with a horse +and buggy. + +Through the long hours of the night they drove with but a single stop at +midnight in a quiet street of a sleeping village. They halted at the well +beside a store and watered the horse. + +A graveyard was passed a mile beyond the village, and Andy glanced timidly +over his shoulder at the white marble slabs glistening in the starlight. +His master had not spoken for two hours save the sharp order to stop at the +well. + +"Dis sho is er lonesome lookin' place!" Andy said with a shiver. + +But the man beside him gave no sign that he heard. His eyes were set in a +strange stare at the stars that twinkled in the edge of the tree tops far +ahead. + +Andy grew so lonely and frightened finally at the ominous silence that he +pretended to be lost at each crossroads to force Norton to speak. + +"I wuz afraid you gone ter sleep, sah!" he said with an apologetic laugh. +"An' I wuz erfered dat you'd fall out er de buggy gwine down er hill." + +In vain he tried to break the silence. There was no answer--no sign that he +was in the same world, save the fact of his body's presence. + +The first streak of dawn was widening on the eastern horizon when Norton's +cramped legs limped into the gate of his home. He stopped to steady his +nerves and looked blankly up at the window of his boy's room. He had given +Tom his mother's old room when he had reached the age of sixteen. + +Somewhere behind those fluted pillars, white and ghost-like in the dawn, +lay the girl who had suddenly risen from the dead to lead his faltering +feet up life's Calvary. He saw the cross slowly lifting its dark form from +the hilltop with arms outstretched to embrace him, and the chill of death +crept into his heart. + +The chirp of stirring birds, the dim noises of waking life, the whitening +sky-line behind the house recalled another morning in his boyhood. He had +waked at daylight to go to his traps set at the branch in the edge of the +woods behind the barn. The plantation at that time had extended into the +town. A fox had been killing his fancy chickens. He had vowed vengeance in +his boyish wrath, bought half a dozen powerful steel-traps and set them in +the fox's path. The prowler had been interrupted the night before and had +not gotten his prey. He would return sure. + +He recalled now every emotion that had thrilled his young heart as he +bounded along the dew-soaked path to his traps. + +Before he could see the place he heard the struggles of his captive. + +"I've got him!" he shouted with a throb of savage joy. + +He leaped the fence and stood frozen to the spot. The fox was a magnificent +specimen of his breed, tall and heavy as a setter dog, with beautiful +appealing eyes. His fine gray fur was spotched with blood, his mouth torn +and bleeding from the effort to break the cruel bars that held his foreleg +in their death-like grip. With each desperate pull the blood spurted afresh +and the steel cut deeper into bone and flesh. + +The strange cries of pain and terror from the trapped victim had struck him +dumb. He had come with murder in his heart to take revenge on his enemy, +but when he looked with blanched face on the blood and heard the pitiful +cries he rushed to the spot, tore the steel arms apart, loosed the fox, +pushed his quivering form from him and gasped: + +"Go--go--I'm sorry I hurt you like that!" + +Stirred by the memories of the dawn he lived this scene again in vivid +anguish, and as he slowly mounted the steps of his home, felt the steel +bars of an inexorable fate close on his own throat. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +BEHIND THE BARS + + +When Norton reached his room he locked the door and began to pace the +floor, facing for the hundredth time the stunning situation which the +presence of Helen had created. + +To reveal to such a sensitive, cultured girl just as she was budding into +womanhood the fact that her blood was tainted with a negro ancestor would +be an act so pitifully cruel that every instinct of his nature revolted +from the thought. + +He began to realize that her life was at stake as well as his boy's. That +he loved this son with all the strength of his being and that he only knew +the girl to fear her, made no difference in the fundamental facts. He +acknowledged that she was his. He had accepted the fact and paid the +penalty in the sacrifice of every ambition of a brilliant mind. + +He weighed carefully the things that were certain and the things that were +merely probable. The one certainty that faced him from every angle was that +Cleo was in deadly earnest and that it meant a fight for the supremacy of +every decent instinct of his life and character. + +Apparently she had planned a tragic revenge by luring the girl to his home, +figuring on his absence for three months, to precipitate a love affair +before he could know the truth or move to interfere. A strange mental +telepathy had warned him and he had broken in on the scene two months +before he was expected. + +And yet he couldn't believe that Cleo in the wildest flight of her insane +rage could have deliberately meant that such an affair should end in +marriage. She knew the character of both father and son too well to doubt +that such an act could only end in tragedy. She was too cautious for such +madness. + +What was her game? + +He asked himself that question again and again, always to come back to one +conclusion. She had certainly brought the girl into the house to force from +his reluctant lips her recognition and thus fix her own grip on his life. +Beyond a doubt the surest way to accomplish this, and the quickest, was by +a love affair between the boy and girl. She knew that personally the father +had rather die than lose the respect of his son by a confession of his +shame. But she knew with deeper certainty that he must confess it if their +wills once clashed over the choice of a wife. The boy had a mind of his +own. His father knew it and respected and loved him all the more because of +it. + +It was improbable as yet that Tom had spoken a word of love or personally +faced such an issue. Of the girl he could only form the vaguest idea. It +was clear now that he had been stricken by a panic and that the case was +not so desperate as he had feared. + +One thing he saw with increasing clearness. He must move with the utmost +caution. He must avoid Helen at first and find the boy's attitude. He must +at all hazards keep the use of every power of body, mind and soul in the +crisis with which he was confronted. + +Two hours later when Andy cautiously approached his door and listened at +the keyhole he was still pacing the floor with the nervous tread of a +wounded lion suddenly torn from the forest and thrust behind the bars of an +iron cage. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +ANDY'S DILEMMA + + +Andy left Norton's door and rapped softly at Tom's, tried the lock, found +it unfastened, pushed his way quietly inside and called: + +"Mister Tom!" + +No answer came from the bed and Andy moved closer: + +"Mister Tom--Mister Tom!" + +"Ah--what's the matter with you--get out!" the sleeper growled. + +The negro touched the boy's shoulder with a friendly shake, whispering: + +"Yo' Pa's here!" + +Tom sat up in bed rubbing his eyes: + +"What's that?" + +"Yassah, I fotch him through the country and we rid all night----" + +"What's the matter?' + +"Dat's what I wants ter see you 'bout, sah--an' ef you'll des slip on dem +clothes an' meet me in de liberry, we'll hab a little confab an' er council +er war----" + +The boy picked up a pillow and hurled it at Andy: + +"Well, get out, you old rascal, and I'll be down in a few minutes." + +Andy dodged the pillow and at the door whispered: + +"Yassah, an' don't disturb de major! I hopes ter God he sleep er month when +he git started." + +"All right, I won't disturb him." + +Tom dressed, wondering vaguely what had brought his father home at such an +unearthly hour and by such a trip across the country. + +Andy, arrayed in a suit of broadcloth which he had appropriated from +Norton's wardrobe in his absence, was waiting for Tom with evident +impatience. + +"Now, what I want to know is," the boy began, "what the devil you mean by +pulling me out of bed this time of day?" + +Andy chuckled: + +"Well, yer see, sah, de major git home kinder sudden like en' I wuz jest er +little oneasy 'bout dis here new suit er close er mine----" + +"Well, that's not the first suit of his clothes you've swiped--you needn't +be scared." + +"Scared--who me? Man, I ain't er skeered er yo' Pa." + +Minerva banged the dining-room door and Andy jumped and started to run. Tom +laughed and seized his arm: + +"Oh, don't be a fool! There's no danger." + +"Nasah--I knows dey's no danger--but"--he glanced over his shoulder to be +sure that the master hadn't come down stairs--"but yer know de ole sayin' +is dat indiscretion is de better part er value----" + +"I see!" Tom smiled in perfect agreement. + +"An' I des has er little indiscretion----" + +"Oh, you make me tired, how can I help a coward?" + +Andy looked grieved: + +"Lordy, Mister Tom--don't say dat, sah. I ain't no coward--I'se des +cautious. Ye know I wuz in dat fus' battle er Bull's Run wid de major. I +git separated from him in a close place an' hatter move my headquarters. +Dey said I wuz er coward den 'cause I run. But twan't so, sah! Twan't cause +I wuz er coward. I knowed zactly what I wuz doin'. I run 'cause I didn't +hab no wings! I done de very bes' I could wid what I had. An' fuddermo', +sah, de fellers dat wuz whar I wuz en' didn't run--dey's all dar yit at +Bull's Run! Nasah, I ain't no coward. I des got de indiscretion----" + +Another door slammed and Andy dodged. + +"What's the matter with you anyhow, you old fool, are you having fits?" Tom +cried. + +Andy looked around the room cautiously and took hold of the boy's coat: + +"You listen to me, Mister Tom. I'se gwine tell yer somfin' now----" + +"Well?" + +"I ain't er skeered er de major--but he's dangous----" + +"Bosh!" + +"Dey's sumfin' de matter wid him!" + +"Had a few mint juleps with a friend, no doubt." + +"Mint juleps! Huh! He kin swim in 'em--dive in 'em an' stay down er whole +day an' never come up ter blow his bref--licker don't faze him!" + +"It's politics. He's leading this devilish campaign and he's worried over +politics." + +"Nasah!" Andy protested with a laugh. "Dem fool niggers des well give +up--dey ain't gwine ter vote no mo'. De odder feller's doin' all de +worryin'. He ain't worrin'----" + +"Yes, he is, too," the boy replied. "He put a revolver in his pocket when +he started on that trip." + +"Yassah!" Andy laughed. "I know, but yer don't understan'. Dat pistol's his +flatform!" + +"His platform?" + +"You ain' hear what he bin er doin' wid dat pistol?" + +"No--what?" + +"Man erlive, yer des oughter see 'im yistiddy when I take 'im dem papers +ter dat speakin', down in one er dem po' white counties full er Radicals +dat vote wid niggers. Er Kermittee comes up an' say dat de Internal +Constertooshion er de Nunited States give 'em free speech an' he gwine ter +hear from 'em. De Lordy, man, but his bristles riz! I 'lows ter myself, +folks yer sho is thumpin' de wrong watermillion dis time!" + +"And what did he say to the Committee?" + +"I nebber hear nary word. He des turn 'roun an' step up on dat flatform, +kinder peart like, an' yer oughter see 'im open dat meetin'"--Andy paused +and broke into a loud laugh. + +"How did he open it?" Tom asked with indulgent interest. + +Andy scratched his woolly head: + +"Well, sah, hit warn't opened wid prayer--I kin tell ye dat! De fust thing +he done, he reach back in his britches, kinder kereless lak, an' pull dat +big pistol an' lay hit down afore him on' de table beside his pitcher er +lemonade. Man, you oughter see de eyes er dat crowd er dirty-lookin' po' +whites! Dey fairly popped outen der heads! I hump myself an' move out +towards de outskirts----" + +Tom smiled: + +"I bet you did!" + +"Oh, I didn't run!" Andy protested. + +"Of course not--far be it from you!" + +"Nasah, I des tucken drawed out----" + +"I understand, just a little caution, so to speak!" + +"Yassah--dat's hit! Des tucken drawed out, whar I'd have elbow room in de +mergency----" + +"In other words," the boy interrupted, "just used a little indiscretion!" + +Andy chuckled: + +"Yassah! Dat's hit! Well, sah, he pat dat pistol kinder familious like an' +say: 'Ef dey's any er you lowlife po' white scoundrels here ter-day that +don't want ter hear my speech--git! But ef yer stay an' yer don't feel +comfortable, I got six little lead pills here in a box dat'll ease yer +pain. Walk right up to de prescription counter!'" + +"And they walked right up?" + +"Well, sah, dey didn't _crowd up!_--nasah!" Andy paused and laughed +immoderately. "An' wid dat he des folded his arms an' look at dat crowd er +minute an' his eyes began to spit fire. When I see dat, I feels my very +shoes commin' ontied. I sez ter myself, now folks he's gwine ter +magnify----" + +Tom laughed: + +"Magnified, did he?" + +The negro's eyes rolled and he lifted his hands in a gesture of supreme +admiration: + +"De Lordy, man--ef he didn't! He lit inter dem po' white trash lak er +thousand er brick----" + +"Give 'em what Paddy gave the drum, I suppose?" + +"Now yer talkin', honey! Ef he didn't give 'em particular hell!" + +"And what happened?" + +"Nuttin' happened, chile--dat's what I'm tryin' ter tell ye. Nary one of +'em nebber cheeped. Dey des stood dar an' listened lak er passel er +sheep-killin' dogs. Lemme tell ye, honey, politics ain't er worryin' him. +De odder fellers doin' all de worrin'. Nasah, dey's sumfin else de matter +wid de major----" + +"What?" + +Andy looked around the room furtively and whispered: + +"Dar's a quare look in his eye!" + +"Ah, pooh!" + +"Hit's des lak I tells ye, Mister Tom. I ain't seed dat quare look in his +eye before since de night I see yo' Ma's ghost come down outen dat big +picture frame an' walk cross dis hall----" + +The boy smiled and looked at the shining yellow canvas that seemed a living +thing gleaming in its dark setting: + +"I suppose, of course, Andy, you really saw her do that?" + +"'Fore God, es sho's I'm talkin' ter you now, she done dat thing--yassah! +Hit wus de las' year befo' you come back frum college. De moon wuz shinin' +froo dem big windows right on her face, an' I seed her wid my own eyes, all +of a sudden, step right down outen dat picture frame an' walk across dis +room, huggin' her baby close up in her arms--an' you'se dat very baby, +sah!" + +The boy was interested in the negro's weird recital in spite of his +amusement. He shook his head and said laughingly: + +"Andy, you've got the heat----" + +"Hit's des lak I tells ye, sah," Andy solemnly repeated. "I stood right +dar by dat table froze in my tracks, till I seed her go froo dat do' widout +openin' it----" + +"Bah!" Tom cried in disgust. + +"Dat she did!--an' Miss Minerva she see her do dat same thing once before +and tell me about it. But man erlive, when I see it, I let off one er dem +yells dat wuz hark from de tomb----" + +"I bet you did!" + +"Yassah, I went froo dat big window dar an' carry de whole sash wid me. De +major he take out atter me when he hears de commotion, an' when he kotch me +down dar in de fiel' I wuz still wearin' dat sash fer a necktie!" + +The boy laughed again: + +"And I suppose, of course, he believed all you told him?" + +The negro rolled his eyes solemnly to the ceiling and nodded his head: + +"Dat he did, sah. When I fust told 'im dat I seed er ghost, he laft fit ter +kill hissef----" + +The boy nodded: + +"I don't doubt it!" + +"But mind ye," Andy solemnly continued, "when I tells him what kin' er +ghost I seed, he nebber crack anudder smile. He nebber open his mouf ergin +fer er whole day. An' dis here's what I come ter tell ye, honey----" + +He paused and glanced over his shoulder as if momentarily fearing the +major's appearance. + +"I thought you'd been telling me?" + +"Nasah, I ain't told ye nuttin' yit. When I say what _kine_ er ghost I +see--dat quare look come in his eye--de same look dat come dar yistiddy +when I tells 'im dat Miss Helen wuz here." + +The boy looked at Andy with a sudden start: + +"Ah, how could that sweet little girl upset him? He's her guardian's +attorney and sent for her to come, of course----" + +"I don't know 'bout dat, sah--all I know is dat he went wil' es quick es I +tells 'im, an' he bin wil' ever since. Mister Tom, I ain't skeered er de +major--but he's dangous!" + +"Ah, Andy, you're the biggest fool in the county," the boy answered +laughing. "You know my father wouldn't touch a hair of your kinky head." + +Andy grinned. + +"'Cose not, Mister Tom," he said with unction. "I knows dat. But all de +same I gotter keep outen his way wid dis new suit er close till I see 'im +smilin'----" + +"Always bearing in mind that indiscretion is the better part of value!" + +"Yassah--yassah--dat's hit--an' I wants you ter promise you'll stan' by me, +sah, till de major's in a good humor." + +"All right; if you need me, give a yell." + +Tom turned with a smile to go, and Andy caught his sleeve and laughed +again: + +"Wait--wait er minute, Mister Tom--hold yer hosses. Dey's anodder little +thing I wants ye ter help me out erbout. I kin manage de major all right ef +I kin des keep outen his sight ter-day wid dis suit er clothes. But de +trouble is, I got ter wear 'em, sah--I got er 'pintment wid er lady!" + +The boy turned good-naturedly, threw his leg over the corner of the table +and raised his eyebrows with a gleam of mischief: + +"Oh, a lady! Who is she? Aunt Minerva?" + +Andy waved his hands in disgust. + +"Dat's des de one hit ain't--nasah! I can't stan' her nohow, Mr. Tom. I des +natchally can't stan' er fat 'oman! An' Miss Minerva weighs 'bout three +hundred----" + +"Oh, not so bad as that, Andy!" + +"Yassah, she's er whale! Man, ef we wuz walkin' along tergedder, en she wuz +ter slip an' fall she'd sqush de life outen me! I'd nebber know what hit +me. An' what makes bad matters wus, I'se er strong suspicion dat she got +her eyes sot on me here lately--I des feels it in my bones--she's atter me +sho, sah." + +Tom broke into a laugh: + +"Well, she can't take you by force." + +"I don't know 'bout dat, sah. When any 'oman gits her min' sot she's +dangous. But when a 'oman big an' black es she make up her min'!" + +"Black!" Tom cried, squaring himself and looking Andy over: "Aren't you +just a little shady?" + +"Who? Me?--nasah! I ain't no black nigger!" + +"No?" + +"Nasah! I'se what dey calls er tantalizin' brown!" + +"Oh, I see!" + +"Yassah, I'se er chocolate-colored gemman--an' I nebber could stan' dese +here coal-black niggers. Miss Minerva's so black she kin spit ink!" + +"And she's 'atter' you?" + +"Yassah, an' Miss Minerva's a widder 'oman, an' ye know de Scripter says, +'Beware of widders'----" + +"Of course!" Tom agreed. + +"I'se er gemman, yer know, Mister Tom. I can't insult er lady, an' dat's de +particular reason dat I wants ter percipitate mysef wid my true love before +dat big, black 'oman gits her hands on me. She's atter me sho, an' ef she +gits me in er close place, what I gwine do, sah?" + +Tom assumed a judicial attitude, folded his arms and asked: + +"Well, who's the other one?--who's your true love?" + +Andy put his hand over his mouth to suppress a snicker: + +"Now dat's whar I kinder hesitates, sah. I bin er beatin' de debbil roun' +de stump fur de pas' week tryin' ter screw up my courage ter ax ye ter help +me. But Mister Tom, you gettin' so big an' dignified I kinder skeered. You +got ter puttin' on more airs dan de major----" + +"Ah, who is she?" the boy asked brusquely. + +Andy glanced at him out of the corners of his rolling eyes: + +"Yer ain't gwine laugh at me--is yer?" + +With an effort Tom kept his face straight: + +"No, I may be just as big a fool some day myself--who is she?" + +Andy stepped close and whispered: + +"Miss Cleo!" + +"Cleo----" + +"Yassah." + +"Well, you are a fool!" the boy exclaimed indignantly. + +"Yassah, I spec I is," Andy answered, crestfallen, "but I des can't hep it, +sah." + +"Cleo, my nurse, my mammy--why, she wouldn't wipe her foot on you if you +were a door-mat. She's almost as white as I am." + +"Yassah, I know, an' dat's what make me want her so. She's mine ef I kin +git her! Hit des takes one drap er black blood to make er nigger, sah." + +"Bah--she wouldn't look at you!" + +"I know she holds er high head, sah. She's been eddicated an' all dat--but +you listen ter me, honey--she gwine look at me all de same, when I say de +word." + +"Yes, long enough to laugh." + +Andy disregarded the shot, and prinked himself before the mirror: + +"Don't yer think my complexion's gettin' little better, sah?" + +Tom picked up a book with a smile: + +"You do look a little pale to-day, but I think that's your liver!" + +Andy broke into a laugh: + +"Nasah. Dat ain't my liver!" + +"Must be!" + +"Nasah! I got er patent bleacher frum New York dat's gwine ter make me +white ef I kin des buy enough of it." + +"How much have you used?" + +"Hain't used but six bottles yit. Hit costs three dollars a bottle"--he +paused and rubbed his hands smoothingly over his head. "Don't yer think my +hair's gittin' straighter, sah?" + +Tom turned another page of the book without looking up: + +"Not so that you could notice it." + +"Yassah, 'tis!" Andy laughed, eyeing it sideways in the mirror and making +a vain effort to see the back of his head. "I'se er usin' er concoction +called 'Not-a-Kink.' Hit costs five dollars a bottle--but man, hit sho is +doin' de work! I kin des feel dem kinks slippin' right out." + +"There's nothing much the matter with your hair, Andy," Tom said, looking +up with a smile, "that's the straightest thing about you. The trouble's +inside." + +"What de matter wid me inside?" + +"You're crooked." + +"Who--me?" Andy cried. "Ah, go long, Mister Tom, wid yer projectin'--yer +des foolin' wid me"--he came close and busied himself brushing the boy's +coat and continued with insinuating unction--"now ef yer des put in one +little word fer me wid Miss Cleo----" + +"Take my advice, Andy," the boy said seriously, "keep away from her--she'll +kill you." + +"Not ef you help me out, sah," Andy urged eagerly. "She'll do anything fer +you, Mister Tom--she lubs de very ground you walks on--des put in one +little word fer me, sah----" + +Tom shook his head emphatically: + +"Can't do it, Andy!" + +"Don't say dat, Mister Tom!" + +"Can't do it." + +Andy flicked imaginary lint from both sleeves of Tom's coat: + +"Now look here, Mister Tom----" + +The boy turned away protesting: + +"No, I can't do it." + +"Lordy, Mister Tom," Andy cried in grieved tones. "You ain't gwine back on +me like dat des 'cose yer went ter college up dar in de Norf an' git mixed +up wid Yankee notions! Why, you an' me's always been good friends an' +partners. What ye got agin me?" + +A gleam of mischief slipped into the boy's eyes again as he folded his arms +with mock severity: + +"To begin with, you're the biggest old liar in the United States----" + +"Lordy, Mister Tom, I nebber tell a lie in my life, sah!" + +"Andy--Andy!" + +The negro held his face straight for a moment and then broke into a laugh: + +"Well, sah, I may has _pre-var-i-cated_ some times, but dat ain't +lyin'--why, all gemmens do dat." + +"And look at this suit of clothes," Tom said severely, "that you've just +swiped from Dad. You'd steal anything you can get your hands on!" + +Andy turned away and spoke with deep grief + +"Mister Tom, you sho do hurt my feelin's, sah--I nebber steal nuttin' in my +life." + +"I've known you to steal a palm-leaf fan in the dead of winter with snow on +the ground." + +Andy laughed uproariously: + +"Why, man, dat ain't stealin! Who gwine ter want er palm-leaf fan wid snow +on de groun'?--dat's des findin' things. You know dey calls me Hones' Andy. +When dey ketch me wid de goods I nebber try ter lie outen it lak some fool +niggers. I des laugh, 'fess right up, an' hit's all right. Dat's what make +'em call me Hones' Andy, cose I always knows dat honesty's de bes' +policy--an' here you comes callin' me a thief--Lordee, Mister Tom, yer sho +do hurt my feelin's!" + +The boy shook his head again and frowned: + +"You're a hopeless old sinner----" + +"Who, me, er sinner? Why, man erlive, I'se er pillar in de church!" + +"God save the church!" + +"I mebbe backslide a little, sah, in de winter time," Andy hastened to +admit. "But I'se always de fus' man to de mourners' bench in de spring. I +mos' generally leads de mourners, sah, an' when I comes froo an' gits +religion over again, yer kin hear me shout er mile----" + +"And I bet when the chickens hear it they roost higher the next night!" + +Andy ignored the thrust and went on enthusiastically: + +"Nasah, de church folks don't call me no sinner. I always stands up fer +religion. Don't yer min' de time dat big yaller nigger cum down here from +de Norf er castin' circumflexions on our church? I wuz de man dat stood +right up in de meetin' an' defends de cause er de Lawd. I haul off an' biff +'im right in the jaw----" + +"And you're going to ask Cleo to marry you?" + +"I sho' is, sah." + +"Haven't you a wife living, Andy?" the boy asked carelessly. + +The whites of the negro's eyes suddenly shone as he rolled them in the +opposite direction. He scratched his head and turned back to his friendly +tormentor with unction: + +"Mr. Tom, I'm gwine ter be hones'--cose honesty is de bes' policy. I did +marry a lady, sah, but dat wuz er long time ergo. She run away an' lef me +an' git married ergin an' I divorced her, sah. She don't pester me no mo' +an' I don't pester her. Hit warn't my fault, sah, an' I des put her away ez +de Bible sez. Ain't dat all right, sah?" + +"Well, it's hardly legal to-day, though it may have been a Biblical +custom." + +"Yassah, but dat's nuttin' ter do wid niggers. De white folks make de laws +an' dey hatter go by 'em. But niggers is niggers, yer know dat yosef, sah." + +Tom broke into a laugh: + +"Andy, you certainly are a bird!" + +The negro joined in the laugh with a joyous chuckle at its close: + +"Yassah, yassah--one er dese here great big brown blackbirds! But, Lordy, +Mister Tom, yer des foolin' wid me--yer ain't got nuttin' 'gin yer ole +partner, barrin' dem few little things?" + +"No, barring the few things I've mentioned, that you're a lazy, lying, +impudent old rascal--barring these few little things--why--otherwise you're +all right, Andy, you're all right!" + +The negro chuckled joyfully: + +"Yassah--yassah! I knowed yer warn't gwine back on me, Mister Tom." He +edged close and dropped his voice to the oiliest whisper: "You'll say dat +good word now to Miss Cleo right away, sah?" + +The boy shook his head: + +"The only thing I'll agree to do, Andy, is to stand by and see you commit +suicide. If it's any comfort to you, I'll tell you that she'll kill you." + +"Nasah! Don't yer believe it. Ef I kin des escape dat fat 'oman wid my life +before she gits me--now dat you'se on my side I kin read my titles +clar----" + +"Oh, you can get rid of Minerva all right!" + +"For de Lord sake, des tell me how!" + +Tom bent toward him and spoke in low tones: + +"All you've got to do if Minerva gets you in a tight place is to confess +your real love and ask her to help you out as a friend." + +Andy looked puzzled a moment and then a light broke over his dusky face: + +"Dat's a fine plan, Mister Tom. You saved er nigger's life--I'll do dat +sho!" + +"As for Cleo, I can't do anything for you, but I won't do anything against +you." + +"Thankee, sah! Thankee, sah!" + +When Tom reached the door he paused and said: + +"I might consent to consult with the undertaker about the funeral and act +as one of your pall-bearers." + +Andy waved him away with a suppressed laugh: + +"G'way frum here, Mister Tom! G'way frum here!" + +The negro returned to the mirror, adjusted his suit and after much effort +succeeded in fixing a new scarfpin of a horseshoe design in the centre of +the bow of one of Norton's old-fashioned black string ties. He dusted his +shoes, smoothed as many of the kinks out of his hair as a vigorous rubbing +could accomplish, and put the last touches on his elaborate preparations +for a meeting with Cleo that was destined to be a memorable one in her +life. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE BEST LAID PLANS + + +Andy's plans for a speedy conquest of Cleo were destined to an +interruption. Minerva had decided that he was the best man in sight for a +husband, and made up her mind to claim her own. She had noticed of late a +disposition on his part to dally with Cleo, and determined to act +immediately. Breakfast was well under way and she had heard Andy's unctous +laugh in the library with Tom. + +She put on her sweeping apron, took up a broom and entered under the +pretense of cleaning the room. + +Andy was still chuckling with joy over the brilliant plan of escape +suggested by Tom. He had just put the finishing touches on his necktie, and +was trying on an old silk hat when Minerva's voice caused him to suddenly +collapse. + +"Say, man, is dat a hat er a bee-gum?" she cried, with a laugh so jolly it +would have been contagious but for Andy's terror. + +He looked at her, dropped the hat, picked it up and stammered: + +"W-w-why--Miss Minerva, is dat you?" + +Minerva beamed on him tenderly, placed her broom in the corner and advanced +quickly to meet him: + +"I knowed ye wuz 'spectin me frum de way yer wuz gettin' ready." She +laughed and chuckled with obvious coquetry, adding coyly: + +"I knows how yer feel----" + +Andy looked for a way of escape. But Minerva was too quick for him. She was +a woman of enormous size, fat, jolly and extremely agile for her weight. +She carried her two hundred and fifty pounds without apparent effort. She +walked with a nervous, snappy energy and could waltz with the grace of a +girl of sixteen. + +She had reached Andy's side before his dull brain could think of an excuse +for going. Her shining coal-black face was aglow with tenderness and the +determination to make things easy for him in the declaration of love she +had planned that he should make. + +"I know how yer feels, Brer Andy," she repeated. + +The victim mopped his perspiring brow and stammered: + +"Yassam--yassam." + +"Yer needn't be so 'barrassed, Mr. Andy," Minerva went on in the most +insinuating tones. "Yer kin say what's on yer mind." + +"Yassam." + +"Come right here and set down er minute." + +She seized his hand and drew him with a kittenish skip toward a settee, +tripped on a bear rug and would have fallen had not Andy grabbed her. + +"De Lord save us!" he gasped. He was trying desperately in his new suit to +play the gentleman under difficulties. + +Minerva was in ecstasy over his gallantry: + +"Yer sho wuz terrified less I git hurt, Mr. Andy," she laughed. "I thought +dat bar had me sho." + +Andy mopped his brow again and glanced longingly at the door: + +"Yassam, I sho wuz terrified--I'm sorry m'am, you'll hatter 'scuse me. +Mister Tom's out dar waitin' fer me, an' I hatter go----" + +Minerva smilingly but firmly pulled him down on the seat beside her: + +"Set right down, Mr. Andy, an' make yoself at home. We got er whole half +hour yet 'fore de odder folks come down stairs. Man, don't be so +'barrassed! I knows 'zactly how yer feels. I understand what's de matter +wid yer"--she paused, glanced at him out of the corners of her eye, touched +him slyly with her elbow, and whispered: + +"Why don't yer say what's on yer mind?" + +Andy cleared his throat and began to stammer. He had the habit of +stammering under excitement, and Tom's plan of escape had just popped into +his benumbed brain. He saw the way out: + +"Y-y-yas'm--cose, m'am. I got sumfin ter tell ye, Miss M-m-Minerva." + +Minerva moved a little closer. + +"Yas, honey, I knows what 'tis, but I'se jes' waitin' ter hear it." + +He cleared his throat and tried to begin his speech in a friendly +business-like way: + +"Yassam, I gwine tell yer sho----" + +He turned to face her and to his horror found her lips so close she had +evidently placed them in position for the first kiss. + +He stopped appalled, fidgeted, looked the other way and stammered: + +"H-hit sho is powful warm ter-day, m'am!" + +"Tain't so much de heat, Brer Andy," she responded tenderly, "as 'tis de +humility dat's in de air!" + +Andy turned, looked into her smiling face for a moment and they both broke +into a loud laugh while he repeated: + +"Yassam, de humility--dat's hit! De humility dat's in de air!" + +The expression had caught his fancy enormously. + +"Yassir, de humility--dat's hit!" Minerva murmured. + +When the laughter had slowly died down she moved a little closer and said +reassuringly: + +"And now, Brer Andy, ez dey's des you an' me here tergedder--ef hits suits +yo' circumstantial convenience, hab no reprehenshun, sah, des say what's on +yo' min'." + +Andy glanced at her quickly, bowed grandiloquently and catching the spirit +of her high-flown language decided to spring his confession and ask her +help to win Cleo. + +"Yassam, Miss Minerva, dat's so. An' ez I allays sez dat honesty is de bes' +policy, I'se gwine ter re-cede ter yo' invitation!" + +Minerva laughed with joyous admiration: + +"Des listen at dat nigger now! You sho is er talkin' man when yer gits +started----" + +"Yassam, I bin er tryin' ter tell ye fer de longest kind er time an' ax ye +ter help me----" + +Minerva moved her massive figure close against him: + +"Cose I help you." + +Andy edged as far away as possible, but the arm of the settee had caught +him and he couldn't get far. He smiled wanly and tried to assume a purely +platonic tone: + +"Wuz yer ebber in love, Miss Minerva?" + +Minerva nudged him slyly: + +"Wuz I?" + +Andy tried to ignore the hint, lifted his eyes to the ceiling and in +far-away tones put the hypothetical case of the friend who needed help: + +"Well, des 'spose m'am dat a po' man wuz ter fall in love wid er beautiful +lady, fur above him, wid eyes dat shine lak de stars----" + +"Oh, g'way frum here, man!" Minerva cried entranced as she broke into a +peal of joyous laughter, nudging him again. + +The insinuating touch of her elbow brought Andy to a sharp realization that +his plan had not only failed to work, but was about to compromise him +beyond hope. He hurried to correct her mistake. + +"But listen, Miss Minerva--yer don't understand. Would yer be his friend +an' help him to win her?" + +With a cry of joy she threw her huge arms around his neck: + +"Would I--Lordy--man!" + +Andy tried to dodge her strangle hold, but was too slow and she had him. + +He struggled and grasped her arms, but she laughed and held on. + +"B-b-but--yer--yer," he stammered. + +"Yer needn't say annudder word----" + +"Yassam, but wait des er minute," he pleaded, struggling to lower her arms. + +"Hush, man," Minerva said good-naturedly. "Cose I knows yer bin er bad +nigger--but ye needn't tell me 'bout it now----" + +"For Gawd's sake!" Andy gasped, wrenching her arms away at last, "will yer +des lemme say one word?" + +"Nasah!" she said generously. "I ain't gwine ter let ye say no harsh words +ergin yoself. I sho do admire de indelicate way dat yer tells me of yo' +love!" + +"B-but yer don't understand----" + +"Cose I does, chile!" Minerva exclaimed with a tender smile. + +Andy made a gesture of despair: + +"B-b-but I tries ter 'splain----" + +"Yer don't hatter 'splain nuttin' ter me, man--I ain't no spring chicken--I +knowed what ye means befo' ye opens yer mouf. Yer tells me dat ye lubs me +an' I done say dat I lubs you--an' dat's all dey is to it." + +Minerva enfolded him in her ample arms and he collapsed with feeble assent: + +"Yassam--yassam." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A RECONNOITRE + + +Norton slept at last from sheer physical exhaustion and waked at eleven +o'clock refreshed and alert, his faculties again strung for action. + +He wondered in the clear light of noon at the folly of his panic the night +before. The fighting instinct in him had always been the dominant one. He +smiled now at his silly collapse and his quick brain began to plan his line +of defense. + +The girl was in his house, yes. But she had been here in spirit, a living, +breathing threat over his life, every moment the past twenty years. No +scene of pain or struggle could come but that he had already lived it a +thousand times. There was a kind of relief in facing these phantoms for the +first time in flesh and blood. They couldn't be more formidable than the +ghosts he had fought. + +He shaved and dressed with deliberation--dressed with unusual care--his +brain on fire now with the determination to fight and win. The instincts of +the soldier were again in command. And the first thing a true soldier did +when driven to desperation and surrounded by an overwhelming foe was to +reconnoitre, find the strength of his enemy, and strike at their weakest +spot. + +He must avoid Cleo and find the exact situation of Tom and Helen. His +safest way was again to cultivate Andy's knowledge of the house in his +absence. + +He rang for him and waited in vain for his appearance. He rang again and, +getting no response, walked down stairs to the door and searched the lawn. +He saw Cleo beside a flower bed talking to Helen. He caught a glimpse of +the lovely young face as she lifted her eyes and saw him. He turned back +quickly into the house to avoid her, and hurried to the library. + +Andy had been watching carefully until Norton went through the front door. +Sure that he had strolled out on the lawn to see Helen, with a sigh of +relief the negro hurried back to the mirror to take another admiring glance +at his fine appearance in the new suit. + +Norton's sudden entrance completely upset him. He tried to laugh and the +effort froze on his lips. He saw that Norton had recognized the stolen +suit, but was too excited to see the amusement lurking behind his frown: + +"Where were you a while ago, when I was calling?" + +"I been right here all mornin', sah," Andy answered with forced surprise. + +"You didn't hear that bell?" + +"Nasah, nebber hear a thing, sah." + +Norton looked at him severely: + +"There's a bigger bell going to ring for you one of these days. You like to +go to funerals, don't you?" + +Andy laughed: + +"Yassah--odder folk's funerals--but dey's one I ain't in no hurry to git +to----" + +"That's the one--where were you when I rang just now?" + +The negro looked at his master, hesitated, and a broad grin overspread his +black face. He bowed and chuckled and walked straight up to Norton: + +"Yassah, major, I gwine tell yer de honest truf now, cose honesty is de +bes' policy. I wuz des embellishin' mysef wid dis here ole suit er close +dat ye gimme, sah, an' I wants ter specify my 'preciation, sah, at de +generosity wid which yer always treats me, sah. I had a mos' particular +reason fer puttin' dis suit on dis mornin'----" + +Norton examined the lapel of the coat, his lips twitching to suppress a +smile: + +"My suit of broadcloth----" + +Andy rubbed his hands over the coat in profound amazement: + +"Is dis de broadcloth? De Lawd er mussy!" + +Norton shook his head: + +"You old black hound----" + +Andy broke into a loud laugh: + +"Yassah, yassah! Dat's me. But, major, I couldn't find the vest!" + +"Too bad--shall I get it for you?" + +"Nasah--des tell me whar yer put it!" + +Norton smiled: + +"Did you look in my big cedar box?" + +"Thankee, sah--thankee, sah. Yer sho is good ter me, major, an' yer can +always 'pend on me, sah." + +"Yes, I'm going to send you to the penitentiary for this----" + +Andy roared with laughter: + +"Yassah--yassah--cose, sah! I kin see myse'f in dat suit er stripes now, +but I sho is gwine ter blossom out in dat double-breasted vest fust!" + +When the laughter had died away Norton asked in good-natured tones: + +"You say I can depend on you, Andy?" + +"Dat yer kin, sah--every day in the year--you'se de bes frien' I ebber had +in de world, sah." + +"Then I want to ask you a question." + +"Yassah, I tells yer anything I know, sah." + +"I'm just a little worried about Tom. He's too young to get married. Do you +think he's been really making love to Miss Helen?" + +Norton watched the negro keenly. He knew that a boy would easily trust his +secrets to such a servant, and that his sense of loyalty to the young would +be strong. He was relieved at the quick reply which came without guile: + +"Lawdy, major, he ain't got dat far, sah. I bin er watchin' 'em putty +close. He des kinder skimmin' 'round de edges." + +"You think so?" + +"Yassah!" was the confident reply. "He 'minds me er one er dese here +minnows when ye go fishin'. He ain't swallowed de hook yit--he des +nibblin'." + +Norton smiled, lighted a cigar, and quietly said: + +"Go down to the office and tell Mr. Tom that I'm up and wish to see him." + +"Yassah--yassah--right away, sah." + +Andy bowed and grinned and hurried from the house. + +Norton seated himself in an armchair facing the portrait of the little +mother. His memory lingered tenderly over the last beautiful days they had +spent together. He recalled every smile with which she had looked her +forgiveness and her love. He felt the presence of her spirit and took +courage. + +He lifted his eyes to the sweet, tender face bending over her baby and +breathed a prayer for guidance. He wondered if she could see and know in +the dim world beyond. Without trying to reason about it, he had grown to +believe that she did, and that her soul was near in this hour of his trial. + +How like this mother the boy had grown the past year--just her age when he +was born. The color of his blonde hair was almost an exact reproduction of +hers. And this beautiful hair lent a peculiar distinction to the boy's fine +face. He had developed, too, a lot of little ways strikingly like the +mother's when a laughing school girl. He smiled in the same flashing way, +like a sudden burst of sunlight from behind a cloud. His temper was quick +like hers, and his voice more and more seemed to develop the peculiar tones +he had loved. + +That this boy, around whose form every desire of life had centered, should +be in peril was a thought that set his heart to beating with new energy. + +He heard his quick step in the hall, rose and laid down his cigar. With a +rush Tom was in the room grasping the outstretched hand: + +"Glad to see you back, Dad!" he cried, "but we had no idea you were coming +so soon." + +"I got a little homesick," the father replied, "and decided to come in for +a day or two." + +"I was awfully surprised at Miss Helen's popping in on us so +unexpectedly--I suppose you forgot to tell me about it in the rush of +getting away." + +"I really didn't expect her to come before my return," was the vague +answer. + +"But you wrote her to come at once." + +"Did I?" he replied carelessly. + +"Why, yes, she showed me your letter. I didn't write you about her arrival +because you told me under no circumstances, except of life or death, to +tell you of anything here and I obeyed orders." + +"I'm glad you've made that a principle of your life--stick to it." + +"I'm sorry you're away in this dangerous campaign so much, Dad," the boy +said with feeling. "It may end your career." + +The father smiled and a far-away look stole into his eyes: + +"I have no career, my boy! I gave that up years ago and I had to lead this +campaign." + +"Why?" + +The look in the brown eyes deepened: + +"Because I am the man to whom our danger has been revealed. I am the man to +whom God has given a message--I who have been tried in the fires of hell +and fought my way up and out of the pit--only the man who has no ambitions +can tell the truth!" + +The boy nodded and smiled: + +"Yes, I know your hobby----" + +"The big tragic truth, that the physical contact of the black race with the +white is a menace to our life"--his voice had dropped to a passionate +whisper as if he were talking to himself. + +A laugh from Tom roused him to the consciousness of time and place: + +"But that isn't a speech you meant for me, Dad!" + +The father caught his bantering tone with a light reply: + +"No." + +And then his tall form confronted the boy with a look of deep seriousness: + +"To-morrow I enter on the last phase of this campaign. At any moment a fool +or a madman may blow my brains out." + +Tom gave a start: + +"Dad----" + +"Over every mile of that long drive home last night, I was brooding and +thinking of you----" + +"Of me?" + +"Wondering if I had done my level best to carry out the dying commands of +your mother----" + +He paused, drew a deep breath, looked up tenderly and continued: + +"I wish you were settled in life." + +The boy turned slightly away and the father watched him keenly and +furtively for a moment, and took a step toward him: + +"You have never been in love?" + +With a shrug and a laugh, Tom dropped carelessly on the settee and crossed +his legs: + +"Love--hardly!" + +The father held his breath until the light answer brought relief and then +smiled: + +"It will come some day, my boy, and when it hits you, I think it's going to +hit hard." + +The handsome young head was poised on one side with a serious judicial +expression: + +"Yes, I think it will--but I guess my ideal's too high, though." + +The father spoke with deep emotion: + +"A man's ideal can't be too high, my boy!" + +Tom didn't hear. His mind was busy with his ideal. + +"But if I ever find her," he went on dreamily, "do you know what I'll +want?" + +"No." + +"The strength of Samson!" + +"What for?" + +He shook his head with a smile: + +"To reach over in California, tear one of those big trees up by the roots, +dip it in the crater of Vesuvius and write her name in letters of fire +across the sky!" + +He ended with a wide, sweeping gesture, showing just how he would inscribe +it. + +"Really!" the father laughed. + +"That's how I feel!" he cried, springing to his feet with an emphatic +gesture, a smile playing about his firm mouth. + +The father slipped his arm around him: + +"Well, if you should happen to do it, be sure to stand in the ocean, +because otherwise, you know, if the grass should be dry you might set the +world on fire." + +The boy broke into a hearty laugh, crossed to the table, and threw his leg +carelessly over the corner, a habit he had gotten from his father. When the +laugh had died away, he picked up a magazine and said carelessly: + +"I guess there's no danger, after all. I'm afraid that the big thing poets +sing about is only a myth after all"--he paused, raised his eyes and they +rested on his mother's portrait, and his voice became a reverent +whisper--"except your love for my mother, Dad--that was the real thing!" + +He was looking the other way and couldn't see the cloud of anguish that +suddenly darkened his father's face. + +"You'll know its meaning some day, my son," was the even reply that came +after a pause, "and I only demand of you one thing----" + +He laid his hand on the boy's shoulder: + +"That the woman you ask to be your wife bear a name without shadow. Good +blood is the noblest inheritance that any father or mother ever gave to a +child." + +"I'm proud of mine, sir!" the boy said, drawing his form erect. + +The father's arm stole around the young shoulders and his voice was very +low: + +"Fools sometimes say, my son, that a man can sow his wild oats and be all +the better for it. It's a lie. The smallest deed takes hold on eternity for +it may start a train of events that even God can't stop----" + +He paused and fought back a cry from the depths of his soul. + +"I did something that hurt your mother once"--his voice dropped--"and for +twenty years my soul in anguish has begged for forgiveness----" + +The boy looked at him in startled sympathy and his own arm instinctively +slipped around his father's form as he lifted his face to the shining +figure over the mantel: + +"But you believe that she sees and understands now?" + +Norton turned his head away to hide the mists that clouded his eyes. His +answer was uttered with the reverence of a prayer: + +"Yes! I've seen her in dreams sometimes so vividly and heard her voice so +plainly, I couldn't believe that I was asleep"--his voice stopped before +it broke, his arm tightening its hold--"and I know that her spirit broods +and watches over you----" + +And then he suddenly decided to do the most cruel thing to which his mind +had ever given assent. But he believed it necessary and did not hesitate. +Only the vague intensity of his eyes showed his deep feeling as he said +evenly: + +"Ask Miss Helen to come here. You'll find her on the lawn with Cleo." + +The boy left the room to summon Helen, and Norton seated himself with grim +determination. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE FIRST WHISPER + + +When Tom reached the lawn Helen was nowhere to be seen. He searched every +nook and corner which they had been accustomed to haunt, looked through the +rose garden and finally knocked timidly on the door of her room. He was +sure at first that he heard a sound within. He dared not open her door and +so hurried down town to see if he could find her in one of the stores. + +Helen shivering inside had held her breath until his his footsteps died +away on the stairs. + +With heavy heart but swift hands she was packing her trunk. In spite of +Cleo's assurances she had been startled and frightened beyond measure by +the certainty that Norton had purposely avoided her. She had expected the +most hearty welcome. Her keen intuition had scented his hostility though +not a word had been spoken. + +Cleo, who had avoided Tom, again rapped on her door: + +"Just a minute, Miss Helen!" + +There was no answer and the woman strained her ear to hear what was +happening inside. It couldn't be possible that the girl was really going to +leave! Such an act of madness would upset her plans just as they were +coming out exactly as she had hoped. + +"She can't mean it!" Cleo muttered under her breath. "It's only a fit of +petulance!" She didn't dare to give Helen a hint of her clouded birth. That +might send her flying. Yet if necessary she must excite her curiosity by a +whisper about her parentage. She had already guessed from hints the girl +had dropped that her one passionate desire was to know the names of her +father and mother. She would be careful, but it was necessary to hold her +at all hazards. + +She rapped again: + +"Please, Miss Helen, may I come in just a minute?" + +Her voice was full of pleading. A step was heard, a pause and the door +opened. Cleo quickly entered, turned the key and in earnest tones, her eyes +dancing excitedly, asked: + +"You are really packing your trunk?" + +"It's already packed," was the firm answer. + +"But you can't mean this----" + +"I do." + +"I tell you, child, the major didn't see you----" + +"He did see me. I caught his eye in a straight, clear look. And he turned +quickly to avoid me." + +"You have his letter of invitation. You can't think it a forgery?" she +asked with impatience. + +The girl's color deepened: + +"He has evidently changed his mind for some reason." + +"Nonsense!" + +"I was just ready to rush to meet him and thank him with the deepest +gratitude for his invitation. The look on his face when he turned was like +a blow." + +"It's only your imagination!" Cleo urged eagerly. "He's worried over +politics." + +"I'm not in politics. No, it's something else--I must go." + +Cleo put her hand appealingly on Helen's arm: + +"Don't be foolish, child!" + +The girl drew away suddenly with instinctive aversion. The act was slight +and quick, but not too slight or quick for the woman's sharp eye. She threw +Helen a look of resentment: + +"Why do you draw away from me like that?" + +The girl flushed with embarrassment and stammered: + +"Why--you see, I've lived up North all my life, shut up in a convent most +of the time and I'm not used--to--colored people----" + +"Well, I'm not a negro, please remember that. I'm a nurse and housekeeper, +if you please, and there happens to be a trace of negro blood in my veins, +but a white soul throbs beneath this yellow skin. I'd strip it off inch by +inch if I could change its color"--her voice broke with assumed emotion--it +was a pose for the moment, but its apparent genuineness deceived the girl +and roused her sympathy. + +"I'm sorry if I hurt you," she said contritely. + +"Oh, it's no matter." + +Helen snapped the lid of her trunk: + +"I'm leaving on the first train." + +"Oh, come now," Cleo urged impatiently. "You'll do nothing of the kind--the +major will be himself to-morrow." + +"I am going at once----" + +"You're not going!" the woman declared firmly, laying her hand again on the +girl's arm. + +With a shudder Helen drew quickly away. + +"Please--please don't touch me again!" she cried with anger. "I'm sorry, +but I can't help it." + +With an effort Cleo suppressed her rage: + +"Well, I won't. I understand--but you can't go like this. The major will be +furious." + +"I'm going," the girl replied, picking up the odds and ends she had left +and placing them in her travelling bag. + +Cleo watched her furtively: + +"I--I--ought to tell you something that I know about your life--" + +Helen dropped a brush from her hand and quickly crossed the room, a bright +color rushing to her cheeks: + +"About my birth?" + +"You believe," Cleo began cautiously, "that the major is the agent of your +guardian who lives abroad. Well, he's not the agent--he is your guardian." + +"Why should he deceive me?" + +"He had reasons, no doubt," Cleo replied with a smile. + +"You mean that he knows the truth? That he knows the full history of my +birth and the names of my father and mother?" + +"Yes." + +"He has assured me again and again that he does not--" + +"I know that he has deceived you." + +Helen looked at her with a queer expression of angry repulsion that she +should possess this secret of her unhappy life. + +"You know?" she asked faintly. + +"No," was the quick reply, "not about your birth; but I assure you the +major does. Demand that he tell you." + +"He'll refuse--" + +"Ask him again, and stay until he does." + +"But I'm intruding!" Helen cried, brushing a tear from her eyes. + +"No matter, you're here, you're of age, you have the right to know the +truth--stay until you learn it. If he slights you, pay no attention to +it--stay until you know." + +The girl's form suddenly stiffened and her eyes flashed: + +"Yes, I will--I'll know at any cost." + +With a soft laugh which Helen couldn't hear Cleo hurried from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Andy's Proposal + + +Andy had been waiting patiently for Cleo to leave Helen's door. He had +tried in vain during the entire morning to get an opportunity to see her +alone, but since Helen's appearance at breakfast she had scarcely left the +girl's side for five minutes. + +He had slipped to the head of the back stairs, lifted the long flaps of the +tail of his new coat and carefully seated himself on the last step to wait +her appearance. He smiled with assurance. She couldn't get down without a +word at least. + +"I'm gwine ter bring things to er head dis day, sho's yer born!" he +muttered, wagging his head. + +He had been to Norfolk the week before on an excursion to attend the annual +convention of his African mutual insurance society, "The Children of the +King." While there he had met the old woman who had given him a startling +piece of information about Cleo which had set his brain in a whirl. He had +long been desperately in love with her, but she had treated him with such +scorn he had never summoned the courage to declare his affection. + +The advent of Helen at first had made no impression on his slowly working +mind, but when he returned from Norfolk with the new clew to Cleo's life he +watched the girl with increasing suspicion. And when he saw the collapse +of Norton over the announcement of her presence he leaped to an important +conclusion. No matter whether his guess was correct or not, he knew enough +to give him a power over the proud housekeeper he proposed to exercise +without a moment's delay. + +"We see now whether she turns up her nose at me ergin," he chuckled, as he +heard the door open. + +He rose with a broad grin as he saw that at last she was alone. He adjusted +his suit with a touch of pride and pulled down his vest with a little jerk +he had seen his master use in dressing. He had found the heavy, black, +double-breasted vest in the cedar box, but thought it rather sombre when +contrasted with a red English hunting jacket the major had affected once in +a fashionable fox hunt before the war. The rich scarlet took his fancy and +he selected that one instead. He carried his ancient silk hat jauntily +balanced in one hand, in the other hand a magnolia in full bloom. The +petals of the flower were at least a half-foot long and the leaves longer. + +He bowed with an attempt at the easy manners of a gentleman in a gallant +effort to attract her attention. She was about to pass him on the stairs +without noticing his existence when Andy cleared his throat: + +"Ahem!" + +Cleo paused with a frown: + +"What's the matter? Have you caught cold!" + +Andy generously ignored her tone, bowed and handed her the magnolia: + +"Would you embellish yousef wid dis little posie, m'am?" + +The woman turned on him, drew her figure to its full height, her eyes +blazing with wrath, snatched the flower from his hand and threw it in his +face. + +Andy dodged in time to save his nose and his offering went tumbling down +the stairs. He shook his head threateningly when he caught his breath: + +"Look a here, m'am, is dat de way yer gwine spessify my welcome?" + +"Why, no, I was only thanking you for the compliment!" she answered with a +sneer. "How dare you insult me?" + +"Insult you, is I?" Andy chuckled. "Huh, if dat's de way ye talk I'm gwine +ter say sumfin quick----" + +"You can't be too quick!" + +Andy held her eye a moment and pointed his index finger in her face: + +"Yassam! As de ole sayin' is--I'm gwine take my tex' from dat potion er de +Scripter whar de 'Postle Paul pint his 'pistle at de Fenians!--I'se er +comin' straight ter de pint." + +"Well, come to it, you flat-nosed baboon!" she cried in rage. "What makes +your nose so flat, anyhow?" + +Andy grinned at her tantalizingly, and spoke with a note of deliberate +insult: + +"I don't know, m'am, but I spec hit wuz made dat way ter keep hit outen +odder folks' business!" + +"You impudent scoundrel, how dare you speak to me like this?" Cleo hissed. + +A triumphant chuckle was his answer. He flicked a piece of imaginary dust +from the rim of his hat, his eyes rolled to the ceiling and he slowly said +with a smile: + +"Well, yer see, m'am, circumstances alters cases an' dat always makes de +altercations! I git holt er a little secret o' yourn dat gimme courage----" + +"A secret of mine?" Cleo interrupted with the first flash of surprise. + +"Yassam!" was the unctuous answer, as Andy looked over his shoulder and +bent to survey the hall below for any one who might possibly be passing. + +"Yassam," he went on smoothly, "down ter Norfork las' week, m'am----" + +"Wait a minute!" Cleo interrupted. "Some one might be below. Come to my +room." + +"Yassam, ob course, I wuz gwine ter say dat in de fust place, but ye didn't +gimme time"--he bowed--"cose, m'am, de pleasure's all mine, as de sayin' +is." + +He placed his silk hat jauntily on his head as they reached the door, and +gallantly took hold of Cleo's arm to assist her down the steps. + +She stopped abruptly: + +"Wait here, I'll go ahead and you can come in a few minutes." + +"Sholy, sholy, m'am, I understan' dat er lady allus likes ter make er +little preparations ter meet er gemman. I understands. I des stroll out on +de lawn er minute." + +"The backyard's better," she replied, quietly throwing him a look of scorn. + +"Yassam, all right. I des take a little cursory view er de chickens." + +"As soon as I'm out of sight, you can come right up." + +Andy nodded and Cleo quickly crossed the fifty yards that separated the +house from the neat square brick building that was still used as the +servants' quarters. + +In a few minutes, with his silk hat set on the side of his head, Andy +tipped up the stairs and knocked on her door. + +He entered with a grandiloquent bow and surveyed the place curiously. Her +room was a sacred spot he had never been allowed to enter before. + +"Have a seat," Cleo said, placing a chair. + +Andy bowed, placed his hat pompously on the table, pulled down his red vest +with a jerk and seated himself deliberately. + +Cleo glanced at him: + +"You were about to tell me something that you heard in Norfolk?" + +Andy looked at the door as an extra precaution and smiled blandly: + +"Yassam, I happen ter hear down dar dat a long time ergo, mo'rn twenty +years, afore I cum ter live here--dat is when I wuz er politicioner--dey +wuz rumors 'bout you an' de major when you wuz Mister Tom's putty young +nurse." + +"Well?" + +"De major's wife fin' it out an' die. De major wuz heart-broke, drap +everything an' go Norf, an' while he wuz up dar, you claims ter be de +mudder of a putty little gal. Now min' ye, I ain't nebber seed her, but +dat's what I hears you claims----" + +Andy paused impressively and Cleo held his eye in a steady, searching +stare. She was trying to guess how much he really knew. She began to +suspect that his story was more than half a bluff and made up her mind to +fight. + +"Claim? No, you fool!" she said with indifferent contempt, "I didn't claim +it--I proved it. I proved it to his satisfaction. You may worry some one +else with your secret. It doesn't interest me. But I'd advise you to have +your life insured before you mention it to the major"--she paused, broke +into a light laugh and added: "So that's your wonderful discovery?" + +Andy looked at her with a puzzled expression and scratched his head: + +"Yassam." + +"Then I'll excuse you from wasting any more of your valuable time," Cleo +said, rising. + +Andy rose and smiled: + +"Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am!" + +"No?" + +"Nobum. I ain't 'sputin dat de little gal wuz born des lak you say, or des +lak, mebbe, de major believes ter dis day"--he paused and leaned over until +he could whisper in her ear--"but sposen she die?" + +The woman never moved a muscle for an instant. She spoke at last in a +half-laughing, incredulous way: + +"Suppose she died? Why, what do you mean?" + +"Now, mind ye," Andy said, lifting his hands in a persuasive gesture, "I +ain't sayin' dat she raly did die--I des say--sposen she die----" + +Cleo lost her temper and turned on her tormentor in sudden fury: + +"But she didn't! Who dares to tell such a lie? She's living to-day a +beautiful, accomplished girl." + +Andy solemnly raised his hand again: + +"Mind ye, I don't say dat she ain't, I des say sposen--sposen she die, an' +you git a little orphan baby ter put in her place, twenty years ergo, jis' +ter keep yer grip on de major----" + +Cleo peered steadily into his face: + +[Illustration: "'Yassam, but dat ain't all, m'am.'"] + +"Did you guess that lie?" + +He cocked his head to one side and grinned: + +"I don't say dat I did, an' I don't say dat I didn't. I des say dat I +mought, an' den ergin I moughn't!" + +"Well, it's a lie!" she cried fiercely--"I tell you it's an infamous lie!" + +"Yassam, dat may be so, but hit's a putty dangous lie fer you, m'am, +ef----" + +He looked around the room in a friendly, cautious way and continued in a +whisper: + +"Especially ef de major wuz ter ever git pizened wid it!" + +Cleo's voice dropped suddenly to pleading tones: + +"You're not going to suggest such an idea to him?" + +Andy looked away coyly and glanced back at her with a smile: + +"Not ef yer ax me----" + +"Well, I do ask you," she said in tender tones. "A more infamous lie +couldn't be told. But if such a suspicion were once roused it would be hard +to protect myself against it." + +"Oh, I des wants ter help ye, m'am," Andy protested earnestly. + +"Then I'm sure you'll never suggest such a thing to the major?--I'm sorry +I've treated you so rudely, and spoke to you as I did just now." + +Andy waved the apology aside with a generous gesture and spoke with large +good nature: + +"Oh, dat's all right, m'am! Dat's all right! I'm gwine ter show you now dat +I'se yer best friend----" + +"I may need one soon," she answered slowly. "Things can't go on in this +house much longer as they are." + +"Yassam!" Andy said reassuringly as he laid his hand on Cleo's arm and +bent low. "You kin 'pend on me. I'se always called Hones' Andy." + +She shuddered unconsciously at his touch, looked suddenly toward the house +and said: + +"Go--quick! Mr. Tom has come. I don't want him to see us together." + +Andy bowed grandly, took up his hat and tipped down the stairs chuckling +over his conquest, and Cleo watched him cross the yard to the kitchen. + +"I'll manage him!" she murmured with a smile of contempt. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE FOLLY OF PITY + + +Norton sat in the library for more than an hour trying to nerve himself for +the interview while waiting for Helen. He had lighted and smoked two cigars +in rapid succession and grown restless at her delay. He rose, strolled +through the house and seeing nothing of either Tom or Helen, returned to +the library and began pacing the floor with measured tread. + +He had made up his mind to do a cruel thing and told himself over and over +again that cruel things are often best. The cruelty of surgery is the +highest form of pity, pity expressed in terms of the highest intelligence. + +He was sure the boy had not made love to the girl. Helen was no doubt +equally innocent in her attitude toward him. + +It would only be necessary to tell her a part of the bitter truth and her +desire to leave would be a resistless one. + +And yet, the longer he delayed and the longer he faced such an act, the +more pitiless it seemed and the harder its execution became. At heart a +deep tenderness was the big trait of his character. + +Above all, he dreaded the first interview with Helen. The idea of the +responsibility of fatherhood had always been a solemn one. His love for Tom +was of the very beat of his heart. The day he first looked into his face +was the most wonderful in all the calendar of life. + +He had simply refused to let this girl come into his heart. He had closed +the door with a firm will. He had only seen her once when a little tot of +two and he was laboring under such deep excitement and such abject fear +lest a suspicion of the truth, or any part of the truth, reach the sisters +to whom he was intrusting the child, that her personality had made no +impression on him. + +He vaguely hoped that she might not be attractive. The idea of a girl of +his own had always appealed to him with peculiar tenderness, and, unlike +most fathers, he had desired that his first-born should be a girl. If Helen +were commonplace and unattractive his task would be comparatively easy. It +was a mental impossibility for him as yet to accept the fact that she was +his--he had seen so little of her, her birth was so unwelcome, her coming +into his life fraught with such tragic consequences. + +The vague hope that she might prove weak and uninteresting had not been +strengthened by the momentary sight of her face. The flash of joy that +lighted her sensitive features, though it came across the lawn, had reached +him with a very distinct impression of charm. He dreaded the effect at +close range. + +However, there was no other way. He had to see her and he had to make her +stay impossible. It would be a staggering blow for a girl to be told in the +dawn of young womanhood that her birth was shadowed by disgrace. It would +be a doubly cruel one to tell her that her blood was mixed with a race of +black slaves. + +And yet a life built on a lie was set on shifting sand. It would not +endure. It was best to build it squarely on the truth, and the sooner the +true foundation was laid the better. There could be no place in our +civilization for a woman of culture and refinement with negro blood in her +veins. More and more the life of such people must become impossible. That +she should remain in the South was unthinkable. That the conditions in the +North were at bottom no better he knew from the experience of his stay in +New York. + +He would tell her the simple, hideous truth, depend on her terror to keep +the secret, and send her abroad. It was the only thing to do. + +He rose with a start at the sound of Tom's voice calling her from the +stairway. + +The answer came in low tones so charged with the quality of emotion that +belongs to a sincere nature that his heart sank at the thought of his task. + +She had only said the most commonplace thing--"All right, I'll be down in a +moment." Yet the tones of her voice were so vibrant with feeling that its +force reached him instantly, and he knew that his interview was going to be +one of the most painful hours of his life. + +And still he was not prepared for the shock her appearance in the shadows +of the tall doorway gave. He had formed no conception of the gracious and +appealing personality. In spite of the anguish her presence had brought, in +spite of preconceived ideas of the inheritance of the vicious nature of her +mother, in spite of his ingrained repugnance to the negroid type, in spite +of his horror of the ghost of his young manhood suddenly risen from the +dead to call him to judgment, in spite of his determination to be cruel as +the surgeon to the last--in spite of all, his heart suddenly went out to +her in a wave of sympathy and tenderness! + +She was evidently so pitifully embarrassed and the suffering in her large, +expressive eyes so keen and genuine, his first impulse was to rush to her +side with words of comfort and assurance. + +The simple white dress, with tiny pink ribbons drawn through its edges, +which she wore accentuated the impression of timidity and suffering. + +He was surprised to find not the slightest trace of negroid blood apparent, +though he knew that a mixture of the sixteenth degree often left no trace +until its sudden reversion to a black child. + +Her hair was the deep brown of his own in young manhood, the eyes large and +tender in their rich blue depths--the eyes of innocence, intelligence, +sincerity. The lips were full and fluted, and the chin marked with an +exquisite dimple that gave a childlike wistfulness to a face that without +it might have suggested too much strength. + +Her neck was slightly curved and set on full, strong shoulders with an +unconscious grace. The bust was slight and girlish, the arms and figure +rounded and beautiful in their graceful fullness. + +Her walk, when she took the first few steps into the room and paused, he +saw was the incarnation of rhythmic strength and perfect health. + +But her voice was the climax of her appeal--low, vibrant, quivering with +feeling and full of a subtle quality that convinced the hearer from the +first moment of the truth and purity of its owner. + +She smiled with evident embarrassment at his silence. He was stunned for +the moment and simply couldn't speak. + +"So, I see you at last, Major Norton!" she said as the color slowly stole +over her face. + +He recovered himself, walked quickly to meet her and extended his hand: + +"I must apologize for not seeing you earlier this morning," he said +gravely. "I was up all night travelling through the country and slept very +late." + +As her hand rested in his the girl forgot her restraint and wounded pride +at the cold and doubtful reception he had given earlier. Her heart suddenly +beat with a desire to win this grave, strong man's love and respect. + +With a look of girlish tenderness she hastened to say: + +"I want to thank you with the deepest gratitude, major, for your kindness +in inviting me here this summer----" + +"Don't mention it, child," he interrupted frowning. + +"Oh, if you only knew," she went on hurriedly, "how I love the South, how +my soul glows under its skies, how I love its people, their old-fashioned +ways, their kindness, their hospitality, their high ideals----" + +He lifted his hand and the gesture stopped her in the midst of a sentence. +He was evidently struggling with an embarrassment that was painful and had +determined to end it. + +"The time has come, Helen," he began firmly--"you're of age--that I should +tell you the important facts about your birth." + +"Yes--yes----" the girl answered in an excited whisper as she sank into a +chair and gazed at him fascinated with the terror of his possible +revelation. + +"I wish I could tell you all," he said, pausing painfully. + +"You know--all?" + +"Yes, I know." + +"My father--my mother--they are living?" + +In spite of his effort at self-control Norton was pale and his voice +strained. His answers to her pointed questions were given with his face +turned from her searching gaze. + +"Your mother is living," was the slow reply. + +"And my father?" + +His eyes were set in a fixed stare waiting for this question, as a prisoner +in the dock for the sentence of a judge. His lips gave no answer for the +moment and the girl went on eagerly: + +"Through all the years that I've been alone, the one desperate yearning of +my heart has been to know my father"--the lines of the full lips +quivered--"I've always felt somehow that a mother who could give up her +babe was hardly worth knowing. And so I've brooded over the idea of a +father. I've hoped and dreamed and prayed that he might be living--that I +might see and know him, win his love, and in its warmth and joy, its +shelter and strength--never be lonely or afraid again----" + +Her voice sank to a sob, and Norton, struggling to master his feelings, +said: + +"You have been lonely and afraid?" + +"Utterly lonely! When other girls at school shouted for joy at the approach +of vacation, the thought of home and loved ones, it brought to me only +tears and heartache. Many a night I've laid awake for hours and sobbed +because a girl had asked me about my father and mother. Lonely!--oh, dear +Lord! And always I've dried my eyes with the thought that some day I might +know my father and sob out on his breast all I've felt and suffered"--she +paused, and looked at Norton through a mist of tears--"my father is not +dead?" + +The stillness was painful. The man could hear the tick of the little French +clock on the mantel. How tired his soul was of lies! He couldn't lie to her +in answer to this question. And so without lifting his head he said very +softly: + +"He is also alive." + +"Thank God!" the girl breathed reverently. "Oh, if I could only touch his +hand and look into his face! I don't care who he is, how poor and humble +his home, if it's a log cabin on a mountain side, or a poor white man's +hovel in town, I'll love him and cling to him and make him love me!" + +The man winced. There was one depth her mind had not fathomed! + +How could he push this timid, lonely, haunted creature over such a +precipice! He glanced at her furtively and saw that she was dreaming as in +a trance. + +"But suppose," he said quietly, "you should hate this man when you had +met?" + +"It's unthinkable," was the quick response. "My father is my father. I'd +love him if he were a murderer!" + +Again her mind had failed to sound the black depths into which he was about +to hurl her. She might love a murderer, but there was one thing beyond all +question, this beautiful, sensitive, cultured girl could not love the man +who had thrust her into the hell of a negroid life in America! She might +conceive of the love of a father who could take human life, but her mind +could not conceive the possibility of facing the truth with which he must +now crush the soul out of her body. Why had he lied and deceived her at +all? The instinctive desire to shield his own blood from a life of +ignominy--yes. But was it worth the risk? No--he knew it when it was too +late. The steel jaws with their cold teeth were tearing the flesh now at +every turn and there was no way of escape. + +When he failed to respond, she rose, pressed close and pleaded eagerly: + +"Tell me his name! Oh, it's wonderful that you have seen him, heard his +voice and held his hand! He may not be far away--tell me----" + +Norton shook his head: + +"The one thing, child, I can never do." + +"You are a father--a father who loves his own--I've seen and know that. A +nameless waif starving for a word of love begs it--just one word of deep, +real love--think of it! My heart has never known it in all the years I've +lived!" + +Norton lifted his hand brusquely: + +"You ask the impossible. The conditions under which I am acting as your +guardian seal my lips." + +The girl looked at him steadily: + +"Then, you are my real guardian?" + +"Yes." + +"And why have you not told me before?" + +The question was asked with a firm emphasis that startled him into a sense +of renewed danger. + +"Why?" she repeated. + +"To avoid questions I couldn't answer." + +"You will answer them now?" + +"With reservations." + +The girl drew herself up with a movement of quiet determination and spoke +in even tones: + +"My parents are Southern?" + +"Yes----" + +"My father and mother were--were"--her voice failed, her head dropped and +in an effort at self-control she walked to the table, took a book in her +hand and tried to turn its leaves. The hideous question over which she had +long brooded was too horrible to put into words. The answer he might give +was too big with tragic possibilities. She tried to speak again and +couldn't. He looked at her with a great pity in his heart and when at last +she spoke her voice was scarcely a whisper: + +"My father and mother were married?" + +He knew it was coming and that he must answer, and yet hesitated. His reply +was low, but it rang through her soul like the stroke of a great bell +tolling for the dead: + +"No!" + +The book she held slipped from the trembling fingers and fell to the floor. +Norton walked to the window that he might not see the agony in her +sensitive face. + +She stood very still and the tears began slowly to steal down her cheeks. + +"God pity me!" she sobbed, lifting her face and looking pathetically at +Norton. "Why did you let them send me to school? Why teach me to think and +feel and know this?" + +The low, sweet tones of her wonderful voice found the inmost heart of the +man. The misery and loneliness of the orphan years of which she had spoken +were nothing to the anguish with which her being now shook. + +He crossed the room quickly and extended his hand in a movement of +instinctive sympathy and tenderness: + +"Come, come, child--you're young and life is all before you." + +"Yes, a life of shame and humiliation!" + +"The world is wide to-day! A hundred careers are open to you. Marriage is +impossible--yes----" + +"And if I only wish for marriage?" the girl cried with passionate +intensity. "If my ideal is simple and old-fashioned--if all I ask of God is +the love of one man--a home--a baby----" + +A shadow of pain clouded Norton's face and he lifted a hand in tender +warning: + +"Put marriage out of your mind once and for all time! It can only bring to +you and your loved ones hopeless misery." + +Helen turned with a start: + +"Even if the man I love should know all?" + +"Yes," was the firm answer. + +She gazed steadily into his eyes and asked with sharp rising emphasis: + +"Why?" + +The question brought him squarely to the last blow he must give if he +accomplish the thing he had begun. He must tell her that her mother is a +negress. He looked at the quivering figure, the white, sensitive, young +face with the deep, serious eyes, and his lips refused to move. He tried +to speak and his throat was dry. It was too cruel. There must be an easier +way. He couldn't strike the sweet uplifted head. + +He hesitated, stammered and said: + +"I--I'm sorry--I can't answer that question fully and frankly. It may be +best, but----" + +"Yes, yes--it's best!" she urged. + +"It may be best," he repeated, "but I simply can't do it"--he paused, +turned away and suddenly wheeled confronting her: + +"I'll tell you all that you need to know to-day--you were born under the +shadow of a hopeless disgrace----" + +The girl lifted her hand as if to ward a blow while she slowly repeated: + +"A hopeless--disgrace----" + +"Beneath a shadow so deep, no lover's vow can ever lift it from your life. +I should have told you this before, perhaps--well, somehow I couldn't"--he +paused and his voice trembled--"I wanted you to grow in strength and +character first----" + +The girl clenched her hands and sprang in front of him: + +"That my agony might be beyond endurance? Now you _must_ tell me the whole +truth!" + +Again the appealing uplifted face had invited the blow, and again his heart +failed. It was impossible to crush her. It was too horrible. He spoke with +firm decision: + +"Not another word!" + +He turned and walked rapidly to the door. The girl clung desperately to his +arm: + +"I beg of you! I implore you!" + +He paused in the doorway, and gently took her hands: + +"Forgive me, child, if I seem cruel. In reality I am merciful. I must leave +it just there!" + +He passed quickly out. + +The girl caught the heavy curtains for support, turned with an effort, +staggered back into the room, fell prostrate on the lounge with a cry of +despair, and burst into uncontrollable sobs. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +A DISCOVERY + + +Tom had grown restless waiting for Helen to emerge from the interminable +interview with his father. A half dozen times he had walked past the +library door only to hear the low hum of their voices still talking. + +"What on earth is it all about, I wonder?" he muttered. "Must be telling +her the story of his whole life!" + +He had asked her to meet him in the old rose garden when she came out. For +the dozenth time he strolled in and sat down on their favorite rustic. He +could neither sit still nor content himself with wandering. + +"What the devil's the matter with me anyhow?" he said aloud. "The next +thing I'll be thinking I'm in love--good joke--bah!" + +Helen was not the ideal he had dreamed. She had simply brought a sweet +companionship into his life--that was all. She was a good fellow. She could +walk, ride, run and hold her own at any game he liked to play. He had +walked with her over miles of hills and valleys stretching in every +direction about town. He had never grown tired of these walks. He didn't +have to entertain her. They were silent often for a long time. They sat +down beside the roadway, laughed and talked like chums with never a +thought of entertaining each other. + +In the long rides they had taken in the afternoons and sometimes late in +the starlight or moonlight, she had never grown silly, sentimental or +tiresome. A restful and home-like feeling always filled him when she was by +his side. He hadn't thought her very beautiful at first, but the longer he +knew her the more charming and irresistible her companionship became. + +"Her figure's a little too full for the finest type of beauty!" he was +saying to himself now. "Her arms are splendid, but the least bit too big, +and her face sometimes looks too strong for a girl's! It's a pity. Still, +by geeminy, when she smiles she is beautiful! Her face seems to fairly +blossom with funny little dimples--and that one on the chin is awfully +pretty! She just misses by a hair being a stunningly beautiful girl!" + +He flicked a fly from his boot with a switch he was carrying and glanced +anxiously toward the house. "And I must say," he acknowledged judicially, +"that she has a bright mind, her tastes are fine, her ideals high. She +isn't all the time worrying over balls and dresses and beaux like a lot of +silly girls I know. She's got too much sense for that. The fact is, she has +a brilliant mind." + +Now that he came to think of it, she had a mind of rare brilliance. +Everything she said seemed to sparkle. He didn't stop to ask the reason +why, he simply knew that it was so. If she spoke about the weather, her +words never seemed trivial. + +He rose scowling and walked back to the house. + +"What on earth can they be talking about all this time?" he cried angrily. +Just then his father's tall figure stepped out on the porch, walked its +length and entered the sitting-room by one of the French windows. + +He sprang up the steps, thrust his head into the hall, and softly whistled. +He waited a moment, there was no response, and he repeated the call. Still +receiving no answer, he entered cautiously: + +"Miss Helen!" + +He tipped to the library door and called again: + +"Miss Helen!" + +Surprised that she could have gone so quickly he rushed into the room, +glanced hastily around, crossed to the window, looked out on the porch, +heard the rustle of a skirt and turned in time to see her flying to escape. + +With a quick dash he headed her off. + +Hiding her face she turned and ran the other way for the door through which +he had entered. + +With a laugh and a swift leap Tom caught her arms. + +"Lord, you're a sprinter!" he cried breathlessly. "But I've got you now!" +he laughed, holding her pinioned arms tightly. + +Helen lifted her tear-stained face: + +"Please----" + +Tom drew her gently around and looked into her eyes: + +"Why--what on earth--you're crying!" + +She tried to draw away but he held her hand firmly: + +"What is it? What's happened? What's the matter?" + +His questions were fired at her with lightning rapidity. + +The girl dropped forlornly on the lounge and turned her face away: + +"Please go!" + +"I won't go--I won't!" he answered firmly as he bent closer. + +"Please--please!" + +"Tell me what it is?" + +Helen held her face resolutely from him. + +"Tell me," he urged tenderly. + +"I can't!" + +She threw herself prostrate and broke into sobs. + +The boy wrung his hands helplessly, started to put his arm around her, +caught himself in time and drew back with a start. At last he burst out +passionately: + +"Don't--don't! For heaven's sake don't! It hurts me more than it does +you--I don't know what it is but it hurts--it hurts inside and it hurts +deep--please!" + +Without lifting her head Helen cried: + +"I don't want to live any more!" + +"Oh, is that all?" Tom laughed. "I see, you've stubbed your toe and don't +want to live any more!" + +"I mean it!" she broke in desperately. + +"Good joke!" he cried again, laughing. "You don't want to live any more! +Twenty years old and every line of your graceful, young form quivering with +the joy of life--you--you don't want to live! That's great!" + +The girl lifted her dimmed eyes, looked at him a moment, and spoke the +thought that had poisoned her soul--spoke it in hard, bitter accents with a +touch of self-loathing: + +"I've just learned that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!" + +"Well, what have you to do with that?" he asked quickly. "Your whole being +shines with truth and purity. What's an accident of birth? You couldn't +choose your parents, could you? You're a nameless orphan and my father is +the attorney of an old fool guardian who lives somewhere in Europe. All +right! The worst thing your worst enemy could say is that you're a child of +love--a great love that leaped all bounds and defied the law--a love that +was madness and staked all life on the issue! That means you're a child of +the gods. Some of the greatest men and women of the world were born like +that. Your own eyes are clear. There's no cloud on your beautiful soul----" + +Tom paused and Helen lifted her face in rapt attention. The boy suddenly +leaped to his feet, turned away and spoke in ecstatic whispers: + +"Good Lord--listen at me--why--I'm making love--great Scott--I'm in love! +The big thing has happened--to me--to me! I feel the thrill of it--the +thing that transforms the world--why--it's like getting religion!" + +He strode back and forth in a frenzy of absurd happiness. + +Helen, smiling through her tears, asked: + +"What are you saying? What are you talking about?" + +With a cry of joy he was at her side, her hand tight gripped in his: + +"Why, that I'm in love, my own--that I love you, my glorious little girl! I +didn't realize it until I saw just now the tears in your eyes and felt the +pain of it. Every day these past weeks you've been stealing into my heart +until now you're my very life! What hurts you hurts me--your joys are +mine--your sorrows are mine!" + +Laughing in spite of herself, Helen cried: + +"You--don't realize what you're saying!" + +"No--but I'm beginning to!" he answered with a boyish smile. "And it goes +to my head like wine--I'm mad with its joy! I tell you I love you--I love +you! and you love me--you do love me?" + +The girl struggled, set her lips grimly and said fiercely: + +"No--and I never shall!" + +"You don't mean it?" + +"I do!" + +"You--you--don't love another?" + +"No--no!" + +"Then you _do_ love me!" he cried triumphantly. "You've just _got_ to love +me! I won't take any other answer! Look into my eyes!" + +She turned resolutely away and he took both hands drawing her back until +their eyes met. + +"Your lips say no," he went on, "but your tears, your voice, the tremor of +your hand and the tenderness of your eyes say yes!" + +Helen shook her head: + +"No--no--no!" + +But the last "no" grew feebler than the first and he pressed her hand with +cruel pleading: + +"Yes--yes--yes--say it, dear--please--just once." + +Helen looked at him and then with a cry of joy that was resistless said: + +"God forgive me! I can't help it--yes, yes, yes, I love you--I love you!" + +Tom snatched her to his heart and held her in perfect surrender. She +suddenly drew her arms from his neck, crying in dismay: + +"No--no--I don't love you!" + +The boy looked at her with a start and she went on quickly: + +"I didn't mean to say it--I meant to say--I hate you!" + +With a cry of pain she threw herself into his arms, clasping his neck and +held him close. + +His hand gently stroked the brown hair while he laughed: + +"Well, if that's the way you hate--keep it up!" + +With an effort she drew back: + +"But I mustn't----" + +"There!" he said, tenderly drawing her close again. "It's all right. It's +no use to struggle. You're mine--mine, I tell you!" + +With a determined effort she freed herself: + +"It's no use, dear, our love is impossible." + +"Nonsense!" + +"But you don't realize that my birth is shadowed by disgrace!" + +"I don't believe it--I wouldn't believe it if an angel said it. Who dares +to say such a thing?" + +"Your father!" + +"My father?" he repeated in a whisper. + +"He has always known the truth and now that I am of age he has told me----" + +"Told you what?" + +"Just what I said, and warned me that marriage could only bring pain and +sorrow to those I love." + +"He gave you no facts--only these vague warnings?" + +"Yes, more--he told me----" + +She paused and moved behind the table: + +"That my father and mother were never married." + +"Nothing more?" the boy asked eagerly. + +"That's enough." + +"Not for me!" + +"Suppose my father were a criminal?" + +"No matter--your soul's as white as snow" + +"Suppose my mother----" + +"I don't care who she was--you're an angel!" + +Helen faced him with strained eagerness: + +"You swear that no stain on my father or mother can ever make the least +difference between us?" + +"I swear it!" he cried grasping her hand. "Come, you're mine!" + +Helen drew back: + +"Oh, if I could only believe it----" + +"You do believe it--come!" + +He opened his arms and she smiled. + +"What shall I do!" + +"Come!" + +Slowly at first, and then with quick, passionate tenderness she threw +herself into his arms: + +"I can't help it, dearest. It's too sweet and wonderful--God help me if I'm +doing wrong!" + +"Wrong!" he exclaimed indignantly. "How can it be wrong, this solemn pledge +of life and love, of body and soul?" + +She lifted her face to his in wonder: + +"And you will dare to tell your father?" + +"In good time, yes. But it's our secret now. Keep it until I say the time +has come for him to know. I'll manage him--promise!" + +"Yes! How sweet it is to hear you tell me what to do! I shall never be +lonely or afraid again." + +The father's footstep on the porch warned of his approach. + +"Go quickly!" the boy whispered. "I don't want him to see us together +yet--it means too much now--it means life itself!" + +Helen moved toward the door, looked back, laughed, flew again into his arms +and quickly ran into the hall as Norton entered from the porch. + +The boy caught the look of surprise on his father's face, realized that he +must have heard the rustle of Helen's dress, and decided instantly to +accept the fact. + +He boldly walked to the door and gazed after her retreating figure, his +back squarely on his father. + +Norton paused and looked sharply at Tom: + +"Was--that--Helen?" + +The boy turned, smiling, and nodded with slight embarrassment in spite of +his determined effort at self-control: + +"Yes." + +The father's keen eyes pierced the boy's: + +"Why should she run?" + +Tom's face sobered: + +"I don't think she wished to see you just now, sir." + +"Evidently!" + +"She had been crying." + +"And told you why?" + +"Yes." + +The father frowned: + +"She has been in the habit of making you her confidant?" + +"No. But I found her in tears and asked her the reason for them." + +Norton was watching closely: + +"She told you what I had just said to her?" + +"Vaguely," Tom answered, and turning squarely on his father asked: "Would +you mind telling me the whole truth about it?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +The question came from the father's lips with a sudden snap, so suddenly, +so sharply the boy lost his composure, hung his head, and stammered with an +attempt at a smile: + +"Oh--naturally curious--I suppose it's a secret?" + +"Yes--I wish I could tell you, but I can't"--he paused and spoke with +sudden decision: + +"Ask Cleo to come here." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE CHALLENGE + + +Norton was morally certain now that the boy was interested in Helen. How +far this interest had gone he could only guess. + +What stunned him was that Tom had already taken sides with the girl. He had +not said so in words. But his embarrassment and uneasiness could mean but +one thing. He must move with caution, yet he must act at once and end the +dangerous situation. A clandestine love affair was a hideous possibility. +Up to a moment ago he had held such a thing out of the question with the +boy's high-strung sense of honor and his lack of experience with girls. + +He was afraid now of both the boy and girl. She had convinced him of her +purity when the first words had fallen from her lips. Yet wiser men had +been deceived before. The thought of her sleek, tawny mother came with a +shudder. No daughter could escape such an inheritance. + +There was but one thing to do and it must be done quickly. He would send +Helen abroad and if necessary tell her the whole hideous truth. + +He lifted his head at the sound of Cleo's footsteps, rose and confronted +her. As his deep-set eyes surveyed her he realized that the hour had come +for a fight to the finish. + +She gazed at him steadily with a look of undisguised hate: + +"What is it?" + +He took a step closer, planted his long legs apart and met her greenish +eyes with an answering flash of rage: + +"When I think of your damned impudence, using my typewriter and letterheads +to send an invitation to that girl to spend the summer here with Tom at +home, and signing my name----" + +"I have the right to use your name with her," she broke in with a sneer. + +"It will be the last time I'll give you the chance." + +"We'll see," was the cool reply. + +Norton slowly drew a chair to the table, seated himself and said: + +"I want the truth from you now." + +"You'll get it. I've never had to lie to you, at least----" + +"I've no time to bandy words--will you tell me exactly what's been going on +between Tom and Helen during my absence in this campaign?" + +"I haven't seen anything!" was the light answer. + +His lips moved to say that she lied, but he smiled instead. What was the +use? He dropped his voice to a careless, friendly tone: + +"They have seen each other every day?" + +"Certainly." + +"How many hours have they usually spent together?" + +"I didn't count them." + +Norton bit his lips to keep back an oath: + +"How often have they been riding?" + +"Perhaps a dozen times." + +"They returned late occasionally?" + +"Twice." + +"How late?" + +"It was quite dark----" + +"What time?--eight, nine, ten or eleven o'clock?" + +"As late as nine one night, half-past nine another--the moon was shining." +She said it with a taunting smile. + +"Were they alone?" + +"Yes." + +"You took pains to leave them alone, I suppose?" + +"Sometimes"--she paused and looked at him with a smile that was a sneer. +"What are you afraid of?" + +He returned her gaze steadily: + +"Anything is possible of your daughter--the thought of it strangles me!" + +Cleo laughed lightly: + +"Then all you've got to do is to speak--tell Tom the truth." + +"I'll die first!" he fiercely replied. "At least I've taught him racial +purity. I've been true to my promise to the dead in this. He shall never +know the depths to which I once fell! You have robbed me of everything else +in life, this boy's love and respect is all that you've left me"--he +stopped, his breast heaving with suppressed passion. "Why--why did you +bring that girl into this house?" + +"I wished to see her--that's enough. For twenty years, I've lived here as a +slave, always waiting and hoping for a sign from you that you were +human----" + +"For a sign that I'd sink again to your level! Well, I found out twenty +years ago that beneath the skin of every man sleeps an ape and a tiger--I +fought that battle and won----" + +"And I have lost?" + +"Yes." + +"Perhaps I haven't begun to fight yet." + +"I shouldn't advise you to try it. I know now that I made a tragic blunder +when I brought you back into this house. I've cursed myself a thousand +times that I didn't put the ocean between us. If my boy hadn't loved you, +if he hadn't slipped his little arms around your neck and clung to you +sobbing out the loneliness of his hungry heart--if I hadn't seen the tears +in your own eyes and known that you had saved his life once--I wouldn't +have made the mistake that I did. But I gave you my word, and I've lived up +to it. I've reared and educated your child and given you the protection of +my home----" + +"Yes," she broke in, "that you might watch and guard me and know that your +secret was safely kept while you've grown to hate me each day with deeper +and fiercer hatred--God!--I've wondered sometimes that you haven't killed +me!" + +Norton's voice sank to a whisper: + +"I've wondered sometimes, too"--a look of anguish swept his face--"but I +gave you my word, and I've kept it." + +"Because you had to keep it!" + +He sprang to his feet: + +"Had to keep it--you say that to me?" + +"I do." + +"This house is still mine----" + +"But your past is mine!" she cried with a look of triumph. + +"Indeed! We'll see. Helen leaves this house immediately." + +"She shall not!" + +"You refuse to obey my orders?" + +"And what's more," she cried with angry menace, "I refuse to allow you to +put her out!" + +"To _allow_?" + +"I said it!" + +"So I am your servant? I must ask your permission?--God!----" he sprang +angrily toward the bell and Cleo stepped defiantly before him: + +"Don't you touch that bell----" + +Norton thrust her aside: + +"Get out of my way!" + +"Ring that bell if you dare!" she hissed. + +"Dare?" + +The woman drew her form erect: + +"If you dare! And in five minutes I'll be in that newspaper office across +the way from yours! The editor doesn't love you. To-morrow morning the +story of your life and mine will blaze on that first page!" + +Norton caught a chair for support, his face paled and he sank slowly to a +seat. + +Cleo leaned toward him, trembling with passion: + +"I'll give you fair warning. There are plenty of negroes to-day your equal +in wealth and culture. Do you think they have been listening to their great +leader's call to battle for nothing--building fine houses, buying land, +piling up money, sending their sons and daughters to college, to come at +your beck and call? You're a fool if you do. They are only waiting their +chance to demand social equality and get it. Wealth and culture will give +it in the end, ballot or no ballot. Once rich, white men and women will +come at their command. I've got my chance now to demand my rights of you +and do a turn for the negro race. You've got to recognize Helen before your +son. I've brought her here for that purpose. With her by my side, I'll be +the mistress of this house. Now resign your leadership and get out of this +campaign!" + +With a stamp of her foot she ended her mad speech in sharp, high tones, +turned quickly and started to the door. + +Between set teeth Norton growled: + +"And you think that I'll submit?" + +The woman wheeled suddenly and rushed back to his side, her eyes flaming: + +"You've got to submit--you've got to submit--or begin with me a fight that +can only end in your ruin! I've nothing to lose, and I tell you now that +I'll fight to win, I'll fight to kill! I'll ask no quarter of you and I'll +give none. I'll fight with every ounce of strength I've got, body and +soul--and if I lose I'll still have strength enough left to pull you into +hell with me!" + +Her voice broke in a sob, she pulled herself together, straightened her +figure and cried: + +"Now what are you going to do? What are you going to do? Accept my terms or +fight?" + +Norton's face was livid, his whole being convulsed as he leaped to his feet +and confronted her: + +"I'll fight!" + +"All right! All right!" she said with hysterical passion, backing toward +the door. "I've warned you now--I didn't want to fight--but I'll show +you--I'll show you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +A SKIRMISH + + +Norton's fighting blood was up, but he was too good a soldier and too good +a commander to rush into battle without preparation. Cleo's mask was off at +last, and he knew her too well to doubt that she would try to make good her +threat. The fire of hate that had flamed in her greenish eyes was not a +sudden burst of anger, it had been smoldering there for years, eating its +way into the fiber of her being. + +There were three courses open. + +He could accept her demand, acknowledge Helen to his son, establish her in +his home, throw his self-respect to the winds and sink to the woman's +level. It was unthinkable! Besides, the girl would never recover from the +shock. She would disappear or take her own life. He felt it with +instinctive certainty. But the thing which made such a course impossible +was the fact that it meant his daily degradation before the boy. He would +face death without a tremor sooner than this. + +He could defy Cleo and pack Helen off to Europe on the next steamer, and +risk a scandal that would shake the state, overwhelm the party he was +leading, disgrace him not only before his son but before the world, and set +back the cause he had at heart for a generation. + +It was true she might weaken when confronted with the crisis that would +mean the death of her own hopes. Yet the risk was too great to act on such +a possibility. Her defiance had in it all the elements of finality, and he +had accepted it as final. + +The simpler alternative was a temporary solution which would give him time +to think and get his bearings. He could return to the campaign immediately, +take Tom with him, keep him in the field every day until the election, ask +Helen to stay until his return, and after his victory had been achieved +settle with the woman. + +It was the wisest course for many reasons, and among them not the least +that it would completely puzzle Cleo as to his ultimate decision. + +He rang for Andy: + +"Ask Mr. Tom to come here." + +Andy bowed and Norton resumed his seat. + +When Tom entered, the father spoke with quick decision: + +"The situation in this campaign, my boy, is tense and dangerous. I want you +to go with me to-morrow and stay to the finish." + +Tom flushed and there was a moment's pause: + +"Certainly, Dad, if you wish it." + +"We'll start at eight o'clock in the morning and drive through the country +to the next appointment. Fix your business at the office this afternoon, +place your men in charge and be ready to leave promptly at eight. I've some +important writing to do. I'm going to lock myself in my room until it's +done. See that I'm not disturbed except to send Andy up with my supper. +I'll not finish before midnight." + +"I'll see to it, sir," Tom replied, turned and was gone. + +The father had watched the boy with keen scrutiny every moment and failed +to catch the slightest trace of resentment or of hesitation. The pause he +had made on receiving the request was only an instant of natural surprise. + +Before leaving next morning he sent for Helen who had not appeared at +breakfast. + +She hastened to answer his summons and he found no trace of anger, +resentment or rebellion in her gentle face. Every vestige of the shadow he +had thrown over her life seem to have lifted. A tender smile played about +her lips as she entered the room. + +"You sent for me, major?" she asked with the slightest tremor of timidity +in her voice. + +"Yes," he answered gravely. "I wish you to remain here until Tom and I +return. We'll have a conference then about your future." + +"Thank you," she responded simply. + +"I trust you will not find yourself unhappy or embarrassed in remaining +here alone until we return?" + +"Certainly not, major, if it is your wish," was the prompt response. + +He bowed and murmured: + +"I'll see you soon." + +Tom waved his hand from the buggy when his father's back was turned and +threw her an audacious kiss over his head as the tall figure bent to climb +into the seat. The girl answered with another from her finger tips which he +caught with a smile. + +Norton's fears of Tom were soon at rest at the sight of his overflowing +boyish spirits. He had entered into the adventure of the campaign from the +moment he found himself alone with his father, and apparently without +reservation. + +Through every one of his exciting speeches, when surrounded by hostile +crowds, the father had watched Tom's face with a subconscious smile. At the +slightest noise, the shuffle of a foot, the mutter of a drunken word, or +the movement of a careless listener, the keen eyes of the boy had flashed +and his right arm instinctively moved toward his hip pocket. + +When the bitter struggle had ended, father and son had drawn closer than +ever before in life. They had become chums and comrades. + +Norton had planned his tour to keep him out of town until after the polls +closed on the day of election. They had spent several nights within fifteen +or twenty miles of the Capital, but had avoided home. + +He had planned to arrive at the speaker's stand in the Capitol Square in +time to get the first returns of the election. + +Five thousand people were packed around the bulletin board when they +arrived on a delayed train. + +The first returns indicated that the leader's daring platform had swept the +state by a large majority. The negro race had been disfranchised and the +ballot restored to its original dignity. And much more had been done. The +act was purely political, but its effects on the relations, mental and +moral and physical, of the two races, so evenly divided in the South, would +be tremendous. + +The crowds of cheering men and women felt this instinctively, though it had +not as yet found expression in words. + +A half-dozen stalwart men with a rush and a shout seized Norton and lifted +him, blushing and protesting, carried him on their shoulders through the +yelling crowd and placed him on the platform. + +He had scarcely begun his speech when Tom, watching his chance, slipped +hurriedly through the throng and flew to the girl who was waiting with +beating heart for the sound of his footstep. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +LOVE LAUGHS + + +When Helen had received a brief note from Tom the night before the election +that he would surely reach home the next day, she snatched his picture from +the library table with a cry of joy and rushed to her room. + +She placed the little gold frame on her bureau, sat down before it and +poured out her heart in silly speeches of love, pausing to laugh and kiss +the glass that saved the miniature from ruin. The portrait was an exquisite +work of art on ivory which the father had commisioned a painter in New York +to do in celebration of Tom's coming of age. The artist had caught the +boy's spirit in the tender smile that played about his lips and lingered in +the corners of his blue eyes, the same eyes and lips in line and color in +the dainty little mother's portrait over the mantel. + +"Oh, you big, handsome, brave, glorious boy!" she cried in ecstasy. "My +sweetheart--so generous, so clean, so strong, so free in soul! I love +you--I love you--I love you!" + +She fell asleep at last with the oval frame clasped tight in one hand +thrust under her pillow. A sound sleep was impossible, the busy brain was +too active. Again and again she waked with a start, thinking she had heard +his swift footfall on the stoop. + +At daybreak she leaped to her feet and found herself in the middle of the +room laughing when she came to herself, the precious picture still clasped +in her hand. + +"Oh, foolish heart, wake up!" she cried with another laugh. "It's dawn, and +my lover is coming! It's his day! No more sleep--it's too wonderful! I'm +going to count every hour until I hear his step--every minute of every +hour, foolish heart!" + +She looked out the window and it was raining. The overhanging boughs of the +oaks were dripping on the tin roof of the bay window in which she was +standing. She had dreamed of a wonderful sunrise this morning. But it +didn't matter--the rain didn't matter. The slow, familiar dropping on the +roof suggested the nearness of her lover. They would sit in some shadowy +corner hand in hand and love all the more tenderly. The raindrops were the +drum beat of a band playing the march that was bringing him nearer with +each throb. The mocking-bird that had often waked her with his song was +silent, hovering somewhere in a tree beneath the thick leaves. She had +expected him to call her to-day with the sweetest lyric he had ever sung. +Somehow it didn't matter. Her soul was singing the song that makes all +other music dumb. + +"My love is coming!" she murmured joyfully. "My love is coming!" + +And then she stood for an hour in brooding, happy silence and watched the +ghost-like trees come slowly out of the mists. To her shining eyes there +were no mists. The gray film that hung over the waking world was a bridal +veil hiding the blushing face of the earth from the sun-god lover who was +on his way over the hills to clasp her in his burning arms! + +For the first time in her memory she was supremely happy. + +Every throb of pain that belonged to the past was lost in the sea of joy on +which her soul had set sail. In the glory of his love pain was only another +name for joy. All she had suffered was but the preparation for this supreme +good. It was all the more wonderful, this fairy world into which she had +entered, because the shadows had been so deep in her lonely childhood. + +There really hadn't been any past! She couldn't remember the time she had +not known and loved Tom. Love filled the universe, past, present and +future. There was no task too hard for her hands, no danger she was not +ready to meet. The hungry heart had found its own. + +Through the long hours of the day she waited without impatience. Each tick +of the tiny clock on the mantel brought him nearer. The hands couldn't turn +back! She watched them with a smile as she sat in the gathering twilight. + +She had placed the miniature back in its place and sat where her eye caught +the smile from his lips when she lifted her head from the embroidery on her +lap. + +The band was playing a stirring strain in the Square. She could hear the +tumult and the shouts of the crowds about the speaker's stand as they read +the bulletins of the election. The darkness couldn't hold him many more +minutes. + +She rose with a soft laugh and turned on the lights, walked to the window, +looked out and listened to the roar of the cheering when Norton made his +appearance. The band struck up another stirring piece. Yes, it was "Hail +to the Chief!" He had come. + +She counted the minutes it would take for him to elude his father and reach +the house. She pictured the smile on his face as he threaded his way +through the throng and started to her on swift feet. She could see him +coming with the long, quick stride he had inherited from his father. + +She turned back into the room exclaiming: + +"Oh, foolish heart, be still!" + +She seated herself again and waited patiently, a smile about the corners of +her lips and another playing hide and seek in the depths of her expressive +eyes. + +Tom had entered the house unobserved by any one and softly tipped into the +library from the door directly behind her. He paused, removed his hat, +dropped it silently into a chair and stood looking at the graceful, +beautiful form bending over her work. The picture of this waiting figure he +had seen in his day-dreams a thousand times and yet it was so sweet and +wonderful he had to stop and drink in the glory of it for a moment. + +A joyous laugh was bubbling in his heart as he tipped softly over the thick +yielding rug and slipped his hands over her eyes. His voice was the +gentlest whisper: + +"Guess?" + +The white figure slowly rose and her words came in little ripples of +gasping laughter as she turned and lifted her arms: + +"It's--it's--Tom!" + +With a smothered cry she was on his breast. He held her long and close +without a word. His voice had a queer hitch in it as he murmured: + +"Helen--my darling!" + +"Oh, I thought you'd never come!" she sighed, looking up through her tears. + +Tom held her off and gazed into her eyes: + +"It's been a century since I've seen you! I did my level best when we got +into these nearby counties again, but I couldn't shake Dad once this week. +He watched me like a hawk and insisted on staying out of town till the very +last hour of the election to-day. Did old Andy find out I slipped in last +week?" + +"No!" she laughed. + +"Did Cleo find it out?" + +"No." + +"You're sure Cleo didn't find out?" + +"Sure--but Aunt Minerva did." + +"Oh, I'm not afraid of her--kiss me!" + +With a glad cry their lips met. + +He held her off. + +"I'm not afraid of anything!" + +With an answering laugh, she kissed him again. + +"I'm not afraid of Dad!" he said in tones of mock tragedy. "Once more!" + +She gently disengaged herself, asking: + +"How did you get away from him so quickly?" + +"Oh, he's making a speech to the crowd in the Square proclaiming victory +and so"--his voice fell to a whisper--"I flew to celebrate mine!" + +"Won't he miss you?" + +"Not while he's talking. Dad enjoys an eloquent speech--especially one of +his own----" + +He stopped abruptly, took a step toward her and cried: + +"Say! Do you know what the Governor of North Carolina said once upon a +time to the Governor of South Carolina?" + +Helen laughed: + +"What?" + +He opened his arms: + +"'It strikes me,' said he, 'that it's a long time between drinks!'" + +Again her arms flashed around his neck. + +"Did you miss me?" + +"Dreadfully!" she sighed. "But I've been happy--happy in your love--oh, so +happy, dearest!" + +"Well, if Dad wins this election to-night," he said with a boyish smile, +"I'm going to tell him. Now's the time--no more slipping and sliding!"--he +paused, rushed to the window and looked out--"come, the clouds have lifted +and the moon is rising. Our old seat among the roses is waiting." + +With a look of utter happiness she slipped her arm in his and they strolled +across the lawn. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +"FIGHT IT OUT!" + + +Cleo had heard the shouts in the square with increasing dread. The hour was +rapidly approaching when she must face Norton. + +She had deeply regretted the last scene with him when she had completely +lost her head. For the first time in her life she had dared to say things +that could not be forgiven. They had lived an armed truce for twenty years. +She had endured it in the hope of a change in his attitude, but she had +driven him to uncontrollable fury now by her angry outburst and spoken +words that could not be unsaid. + +She realized when too late that he would never forgive these insults. And +she began to wonder nervously what form his revenge would take. That he had +matured a definite plan of hostile action which he would put into force on +his arrival, she did not doubt. + +Why had she been so foolish? She asked herself the question a hundred +times. And yet the clash was inevitable. She could not see Helen packed off +to Europe and her hopes destroyed at a blow. She might have stopped him +with something milder than a threat of exposure in his rival's paper. That +was the mad thing she had done. + +What effect this threat had produced on his mind she could only guess. But +she constantly came back to it with increasing fear. If he should accept +her challenge, dare her to speak, and, weary of the constant strain of her +presence in his house, put her out, it meant the end of the world. She had +lived so long in dependence on his will, the thought of beginning life +again under new conditions of humiliating service was unthinkable. + +She could only wait now until the blow fell, and adjust herself to the +situation as best she could. That she had the power to lay his life in +ruins and break Tom's heart she had never doubted. Yet this was the one +thing she did not wish to do. It meant too much to her. + +She walked on the porch and listened again to the tumult in the Square. She +had seen Tom enter the house on tip-toe and knew that the lovers were +together and smiled in grim triumph. That much of her scheme had not +failed! It only remained to be seen whether, with their love an +accomplished fact, she could wring from Norton's lips the confession she +had demanded and save her own skin in the crash. + +Andy had entered the gate and she heard him bustling in the pantry as Tom +and Helen strolled on the lawn. The band in the Square was playing their +star piece of rag-time music, "A Georgia Campmeeting." + +The stirring refrain echoed over the sleepy old town with a weird appeal +to-night. It had the ring of martial music--of hosts shouting their victory +as they marched. They were playing it with unusual swinging power. + +She turned with a gesture of impatience into the house to find Andy. He was +carrying a tray of mint juleps into the library. + +Cleo looked at him in amazement, suppressed an angry exclamation and asked: + +"What's that band playing for?" + +"White folks celebratin' de victory!" he replied enthusiastically, placing +the tray on the table. + +"It's only seven o'clock. The election returns can't be in yet?" + +"Yassam! Hit's all over but de shoutin'!" + +Cleo moved a step closer: + +"The major has won?" + +"Yassam! Yassam!" Andy answered with loud good humor, as he began to polish +a glass with a napkin. "Yassam, I des come frum dar. De news done come in. +Dey hain't gwine ter 'low de niggers ter vote no mo', 'ceptin they kin read +an' write--an' _den_ dey won't let 'em!" + +He held one of the shining glasses up to the light, examined it with +judicial care and continued in tones of resignation: + +"Don't make no diffrunce ter me, dough!--I hain't nebber got nuttin' fer my +vote nohow, 'ceptin' once when er politicioner shoved er box er cigars at +me"--he chuckled--"an' den, by golly, I had ter be a gemman, I couldn't +grab er whole handful--I des tuck four!" + +Cleo moved impatiently and glared at the tray: + +"What on earth did you bring all that stuff for? The whole mob are not +coming here, are they?" + +"Nobum--nobum! Nobody but de major, but I 'low dat he gwine ter consume +some! He's on er high hoss. Dey's 'bout ten thousand folks up dar in de +Square. De boys carry de major on dere back to de flatform an' he make 'em +a big speech. Dey sho is er-raisin' er mighty humbug. Dey gwine ter +celebrate all night out dar, an' gwine ter serenade everybody in town. But +de major comin' right home. Dey try ter git him ter stay wid 'em, but he +'low dat he got some 'portant business here at de house." + +"Important business here?" she asked anxiously. + +"Yassam, I spec him any minute." + +Cleo turned quickly toward the door and Andy called: + +"Miss Cleo!" + +She continued to go without paying any attention and he repeated his call: + +"Miss Cleo!" + +She paused indifferently, while Andy touched his lips smiling: + +"I got my mouf shet!" + +"Does it pain you?" + +"Nobum!" he laughed. + +"Keep it shut!" she replied contemptuously as she again moved toward the +door. + +"Yassam--yassam--but ain't yer got nuttin' mo' dan dat ter say ter me?" + +He asked this question with a rising inflection that might mean a threat. + +The woman walked back to him: + +"Prove your love by a year's silence----" + +"De Lawd er mussy!" Andy gasped. "A whole year?" + +"Am I not worth waiting for?" she asked with a smile. + +"Yassam--yassam," he replied slowly, "Jacob he wait seben years an' den, by +golly, de ole man cheat him outen his gal! But ef yer say so, I'se +er-waitin', honey----" + +Andy placated, her mind returned in a flash to the fear that haunted her: + +"He said important business here at once?" + +The gate closed with a vigorous slam and the echo of Norton's step was +heard on the gravel walk. + +"Yassam, dar he is now." + +Cleo trembled and hurried to the opposite door: + +"If the major asks for me, tell him I've gone to the meeting in the +Square." + +She passed quickly from the room in a panic of fear. She couldn't meet him +in this condition. She must wait a better moment. + +Andy, arranging his tray, began to mix three mint juleps, humming a +favorite song: + + "Dis time er-nudder year, + Oh, Lawd, how long! + In some lonesome graveyard-- + Woh, Lawd, how long!" + +Norton paused on the threshold with a smile and listened to the foolish +melody. His whole being was quivering with the power that thrilled from a +great act of will. He had just made a momentous decision. His work in hand +was done. He had lived for years in an atmosphere poisoned by a yellow +venomous presence. He had resolved to be free!--no matter what the cost. + +His mind flew to the boy he had grown to love with deeper tenderness the +past weeks. The only thing he really dreaded was his humiliation before +those blue eyes. But, if the worst came to worst, he must speak. There were +things darker than death--the consciousness to a proud and sensitive man +that he was the slave to an inferior was one of them. He had to be +free--free at any cost. The thought was an inspiration. + +With brisk step he entered the library and glanced with surprise at the +empty room. + +"Tom not come?" he asked briskly. + +"Nasah, I ain't seed 'im," Andy replied. + +Norton threw his linen coat on a chair, and a dreamy look came into his +deep-set eyes: + +"Well, Andy, we've made a clean sweep to-day--the old state's white again!" + +The negro, bustling over his tray, replied with unction: + +"Yassah, dat's what I done tole 'em, sah!" + +"All government rests on force, Andy! The ballot is force--physical force. +Back of every ballot is a gun----" + +He paused, drew the revolver slowly from his pocket and held it in his +hand. + +Andy glanced up from his tray and jumped in alarm: + +"Yassah, dat's so, sah--in dese parts sho, sah!" he ended his speech by a +good-natured laugh at the expense of the country that allowed itself to be +thus intimidated. + +Norton lifted the gleaming piece of steel and looked at it thoughtfully: + +"Back of every ballot a gun and the red blood of the man who holds it! No +freeman ever yet voted away his right to a revolution----" + +"Yassah--dat's what I tells dem niggers--you gwine ter giv 'em er dose er +de revolution----" + +"Well, it's done now and I've no more use for this thing--thank God!" + +He crossed to the writing desk, laid the revolver on its top and walked to +the lounge his face set with a look of brooding intensity: + +"Bah! The big battles are all fought inside, Andy! There's where the brave +die and cowards run--inside----" + +"Yassah!--I got de stuff right here fer de _inside_, sah!" he held up the +decanter with a grin. + +"From to-night my work outside is done," Norton went on moodily. "And I'm +going to be free--free! I'm no longer afraid of one of my servants----" + +He dropped into a seat and closed his fists with a gesture of intense +emotion. + +Andy looked at him in astonishment and asked incredulously: + +"Who de debbil say you'se er scared of any nigger? Show dat man ter me--who +say dat?" + +"I say it!" was the bitter answer. He had been thinking aloud, but now that +the negro had heard he didn't care. His soul was sick of subterfuge and +lies. + +Andy laughed apologetically: + +"Yassah! Cose, sah, ef you say dat hit's so, why I say hit's so--but all de +same, 'twixt you an' me, I knows tain't so!" + +"But from to-night!" Norton cried, ignoring Andy as he sprang to his feet +and looked sharply about the room: + +"Tell Cleo I wish to see her at once!" + +"She gone out in de Squar ter hear de news, sah." + +"The moment she comes let me know!" he said with sharp emphasis and turned +quickly to the door. + +"Yassah," Andy answered watching him go with amazement. "De Lawdy, major, +you ain't gwine off an' leave dese mint juleps lak dat, is ye?" + +Norton retraced a step: + +"Yes, from to-night I'm the master of my house and myself!" + +Andy looked at the tray and then at Norton: + +"Well, sah, yer ain't got no objections to me pizinin' mysef, is ye?" + +The master surveyed the grinning servant, glanced at the tray, smiled and +said: + +"No--you'll do it anyhow, so go as far as you like!" + +"Yassah!" the negro laughed as Norton turned again. "An' please, sah, won't +yer gimme jes a little advice befo' you go?" + +Norton turned a puzzled face on the grinning black one: + +"Advice?" + +"Yassah. What I wants ter know, major, is dis. Sposen, sah, dat a gemman +got ter take his choice twixt marryin' er lady dat's forcin' herself on +'im, er kill hissef?" + +"Kill her!" + +Andy broke into a loud laugh: + +"Yassah! but she's er dangous 'oman, sah! She's a fighter from +Fightersville--an' fuddermo', sah, I'se engaged to annudder lady at the +same time--an' I'se in lub wid dat one an' skeered er de fust one." + +"Face it, then. Confess your love and fight it out! Fight it out and let +them fight it out. You like to see a fight, don't you?" + +"Yassah! Oh, yassah," Andy declared bravely. "I likes ter see a fight--I +likes ter see de fur fly--but I don't care 'bout furnishin' none er de +fur!" + +Norton had reached the door when he suddenly turned, the momentary humor of +his play with the negro gone from his sombre face, the tragedy of a life +speaking in every tone as he slowly said: + +"Fight it out! It's the only thing to do--fight it out!" + +Andy stared at the retreating figure dazed by the violence of passion with +which his master had answered, wondering vaguely what could be the meaning +of the threat behind his last words. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ANDY FIGHTS + + +When Andy had recovered from his surprise at the violence of Norton's +parting advice his eye suddenly rested on the tray of untouched mint +juleps. + +A broad smile broke over his black countenance: + +"Fight it out! Fight it out!" he exclaimed with a quick movement toward the +table. "Yassah, I'm gwine do it, too, I is!" + +He paused before the array of filled glasses of the iced beverage, saluted +silently, and raised one high over his head to all imaginary friends who +might be present. His eye rested on the portrait of General Lee. He bowed +and saluted again. Further on hung Stonewall Jackson. He lifted his glass +to him, and last to Norton's grandfather in his blue and yellow colonial +regimentals. He pressed the glass to his thirsty lips and waved the julep a +jovial farewell with the palm of his left hand as he poured it gently but +firmly down to the last drop. + +He smacked his lips, drew a long breath and sighed: + +"Put ernuff er dat stuff inside er me, I kin fight er wil'cat! Yassah, an' +I gwine do it. I gwine ter be rough wid her, too! Rough wid her, I is!" + +He seized another glass and drained half of it, drew himself up with +determination, walked to the door leading to the hall toward the kitchen +and called: + +"Miss Minerva!" + +Receiving no answer, he returned quickly to the tray and took another +drink: + +"Rough wid her--dat's de way--rough wid her!" + +He pulled his vest down with a vicious jerk, bravely took one step, paused, +reached back, picked up his glass again, drained it, and walked to the +door. + +"Miss Minerva!" he called loudly and fiercely. + +From the kitchen came the answer in tender tones: + +"Yas--honey!" + +Andy retreated hastily to the table and took another drink before the huge +but smiling figure appeared in the doorway. + +"Did my true love call?" she asked softly. + +Andy groaned, grasped a glass and quickly poured another drink of Dutch +courage down. "Yassam, Miss Minerva, I thought I hear yer out dar----" + +Minerva giggled as lightly as she could considering her two hundred and +fifty pounds: + +"Yas, honey, hit's little me!" + +Andy had begun to feel the bracing effects of the two full glasses of mint +juleps. He put his hands in his pockets, walked with springing strides to +the other end of the room, returned and squared himself impressively before +Minerva. Before he could speak his courage began to fail and he stuttered: + +"M-M-M-Miss Minerva!" + +The good-humored, shining black face was raised in sharp surprise: + +"What de matter wid you, man, er hoppin' roun' over de flo' lak er flea in +er hot skillet?" + +Andy saw that the time had come when he must speak unless he meant to again +ignominiously surrender. He began boldly: + +"Miss Minerva! I got somethin' scandalous ter say ter you!" + +She glared at him, the whites of her eyes shining ominously, crossed the +room quickly and confronted Andy: + +"Don't yer dar' say nuttin' scandalizin' ter me, sah!" + +His eyes fell and he moved as if to retreat. She nudged him gently: + +"G'long, man, what is it?" + +He took courage: + +"I got ter 'fess ter you, m'am, dat I'se tangled up wid annuder 'oman!" + +The black face suddenly flashed with wrath, and her figure was electric +with battle. The very pores of her dusky skin seemed to radiate war. + +"Who bin tryin' ter steal you?" she cried. "Des sho' her ter me, an' we see +who's who!" + +Andy waved his hands in a conciliatory self-accusing gesture: + +"Yassam--yassam! But I make er fool outen myse'f about her--hit's Miss +Cleo!" + +"Cleo!" Minerva gasped, staggering back until her form collided with the +table and rattled the glasses on the tray. At the sound of the tinkling +glass, she turned, grasped a mint julep, and drank the whole of it at a +single effort. + +Andy, who had been working on a figure in the rug with the toe of his shoe +during his confession, looked up, saw that she had captured his +inspiration, and sprang back in alarm. + +Minerva paused but a moment for breath and rushed for him: + +"Dat yaller Jezebel!--tryin' ter fling er spell over you--but I gwine ter +save ye, honey!" + +Andy retreated behind the lounge, his ample protector hot on his heels: + +"Yassam!" he cried, "but I don't want ter be saved!" + +Before he had finished the plea, she had pinned him in a corner and cut off +retreat. + +"Of course yer don't!" she answered generously. "No po' sinner ever does. +But don't yer fret, honey, I'se gwine ter save ye in spite er yosef! Yer +needn't ter kick, yer needn't ter scramble, now's de time ye needs me, an +I'se gwine ter stan' by ye. Nuttin' kin shake me loose now!" + +She took a step toward him and he vainly tried to dodge. It was useless. +She hurled her ample form straight on him and lifted her arms for a +generous embrace: + +"Lordy, man, dat make me lub yer er hundred times mo!" + +Andy made up his mind in a sudden burst of courage to fight for his life. +If she once got those arms about him he was gone. He grasped them roughly +and stayed the onset: + +"Yassam!" he answered warningly. "But I got ter 'fess up ter you now de +whole truf. I bin er deceivin' you 'bout myself. I'se er bad nigger, Miss +Minerva, an' I hain't worthy ter be you' husban'!" + +"G'long, chile, I done know dat all de time!" she laughed. + +Andy walled his eyes at her uneasily, and she continued: + +"But I likes ter hear ye talk humble dat a way--hit's a good sign." + +He shook his head impatiently: + +"But ye don't know what I means!" + +"Why, of cose, I does!" she replied genially. "I always knowed dat I wuz +high above ye. I'se black, but I'se pure ez de drivellin' snow. I always +knowed, honey, dat ye wern't my equal. But ye can't help dat. I'se er born +'ristocrat. My mudder was er African princess. My grandmudder wuz er +queen--an' I'se er cook!" + +Andy stamped his foot with angry impatience; + +"Yassam--but ye git dat all wrong!" + +"Cose, you' Minerva understan's when ye comes along side er yo' true love +dat ye feels humble----" + +"Nobum! Nobum!" he broke in emphatically--"ye got dat all wrong--all +wrong!" He paused, drew a chair to the table and motioned her to a seat +opposite. + +"Des lemme tell ye now," he continued with determined kindness. "Ye see I +got ter 'fess de whole truf ter you. Tain't right ter fool ye." + +Minerva seated herself, complacently murmuring: + +"Yassah, dat's so, Brer Andy." + +He leaned over the table and looked at her a moment solemnly: + +"I gotter 'fess ter you now, Miss Minerva, dat I'se always bin a bad +nigger--what dey calls er pizen bad nigger--I'se er wife beater!" + +Minerva's eyes walled in amazement: + +"No?" + +"Yassam," he went on seriously. "When I wuz married afore I got de habit er +beatin' my wife!" + +"Beat her?" + +Andy shook his head dolefully: + +"Yassam. Hit's des lak I tell ye. I hates ter 'fess hit ter you, m'am, but +I formed de habit, same ez drinkin' licker--I beat her! I des couldn't keep +my hands offen her. I beat her scandalous! I pay no tenshun to her +hollerin!--huh!--de louder she holler, 'pears lak de harder I beat her!" + +"My, my, ain't dat terrible!" she gasped. + +"Yassam----" + +"Scandalous!" + +"Dat it is----" + +"Sinful!" + +"Jes so!" he agreed sorrowfully. + +"But man!" she cried ecstatically, "dat's what I calls er husband!" + +"Hey?" + +"Dat's de man fer me!" + +He looked at her in dismay, snatched the decanter, poured himself a +straight drink of whiskey, gulped it down, leaned over the table and +returned to his task with renewed vigor: + +"But I kin see, m'am, dat yer don't know what I means! I didn't des switch +'er wid er cowhide er de buggy whip! I got in er regular habit er lammin' +her wid anything I git hold of--wid er axe handle or wid er fire +shovel----" + +"Well, dat's all right," Minerva interrupted admiringly. "She had de same +chance ez you! I takes my chances. What I wants is er husban'--a husban' +dat's got de sand in his gizzard! Dat fust husban' er mine weren't no good +'tall--nebber hit me in his life but once--slap me in de face one day, lak +dat!" + +She gave a contemptuous imitation of the trivial blow with the palms of her +hands. + +"An' what'd you do, m'am?" Andy asked with sudden suspicion. + +"Nuttin' 'tall!" she said with a smile. "I des laf, haul off, kinder +playful lak, an' knock 'im down wid de flatiron----" + +Andy leaped to his feet and walked around the table toward the door: + +"Wid de flatiron!" he repeated incredulously. + +"Didn't hit 'im hard!" Minerva laughed. "But he tumble on de flo' lak er +ten-pin in er bowlin' alley. I stan' dar waitin' fer 'im ter git up an' +come ergin, an' what ye reckon he done?" + +"I dunno, m'am," Andy sighed, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. + +Minerva laughed joyously at the memory of the scene: + +"He jump up an' run des lak er turkey! He run all de way down town, an' +bless God ef he didn't buy me a new calico dress an' fotch hit home ter me. +He warn't no man at all! I wuz dat sorry fer 'im an' dat ershamed er him I +couldn't look 'im in de face ergin. I gits er divorce frum him----" + +She paused, rose, and looked at Andy with tender admiration: + +"But, Lordy, honey, you an' me's gwine ter have joyful times!" + +Andy made a break for the door but she was too quick for him. With a swift +swinging movement, astonishing in its rapidity for her size, she threw +herself on him and her arms encircled his neck: + +"I'se yo' woman an' you'se my man!" she cried with a finality that left her +victim without a ray of hope. He was muttering incoherent protests when +Helen's laughing voice came to his rescue: + +"Oho!" she cried, with finger uplifted in a teasing gesture. + +Minerva loosed her grip on Andy overwhelmed with embarrassment, while he +crouched behind her figure crying: + +"'Twa'n't me, Miss Helen--'twa'n't me!" + +Helen continued to laugh while Andy grasped the tray and beat a hasty +retreat. + +Helen approached Minerva teasingly: + +"Why, Aunt Minerva!" + +The big, jovial black woman glanced at her: + +"G'way, chile--g'way frum here!" + +"Aunt Minerva, I wouldn't have thought such a thing of you!" Helen said +demurely. + +Minerva broke into a jolly laugh and faced her tormentor: + +"Yassum, honey, I spec hit wuz all my fault. Love's such foolishness--yer +knows how dat is yosef!" + +A look of rapture overspread Helen's face: + +"Such a sweet, wonderful foolishness, Aunt Minerva!"--she paused and her +voice was trembling when she added--"It makes us all akin, doesn't it?" + +"Yassam, an' I sho' is glad ter see you so happy!" + +"Oh, I'm too happy, Aunt Minerva, it frightens me"--she stopped, glanced at +the door, drew nearer and continued in low tones: "I've just left Tom out +there on the lawn, to ask you to do something for me." + +"Yassam." + +"I want you to tell the major our secret to-night. He'll be proud and happy +in his victory and I want him to know at once." + +The black woman shook her head dubiously: + +"Tell him yosef, honey!" + +"But I'm afraid. The major frightens me. When I look into his deep eyes I +feel that he has the power to crush the soul out of my body and that he +will do it if I make him very angry." + +"Dat's 'cause yer deceives him, child." + +"Please tell him for us, Aunt Minerva! Oh, you've been so good to me! For +the past weeks I've been in heaven. It seems only a day instead of a month +since he told me his love and then it seems I've lived through all eternity +since I first felt his arms about me. Sitting out there in the moonlight by +his side I forget that I'm on earth, forget that there's a pain or a secret +in it. I'm just in heaven. I have to pinch myself to see if it's real"--she +smiled and pinched her arm--"I'm afraid I'll wake up and find it only a +dream!" + +"Well, yer better wake up just er minute an' tell de major--Mister Tom got +ter have it out wid him." + +"Yes, I know, and that's what scares me. Won't you tell him for us right +away? Get him in a good humor, make him laugh, say a good word for us and +then tell him. Tell him how useless it will be to oppose us. He can't hold +out long against Tom, he loves him so." + +"Mr. Tom want me ter tell de major ter-night? He ax yer ter see me?" + +"No. He doesn't know what I came for. I just decided all of a sudden to +come. I want to surprise him. He is going to tell his father himself +to-night. But somehow I'm afraid, Aunt Minerva. I want you to help us. You +will, won't you?" + +The black woman shook her head emphatically: + +"Nasah, I ain't gwine ter git mixed up in dis thing!" + +"Aunt Minerva!" + +"Nasah--I'se skeered!" + +"Ah, please?" + +"Nasah!" + +"Please----" + +"Na, na, na!" + +"Aunt Minerva----" + +"Na------" + +The girl's pleading eyes were resistless and the black lips smiled: + +"Cose I will, chile! Cose I will--I'll see 'im right away. I'll tell him de +minute I lays my eyes on 'im." + +She turned to go and ran squarely into Norton as he strode into the room. +She stopped and stammered: + +"Why--why--wuz yer lookin' fer me, major?" + +Norton gazed at her a moment and couldn't call his mind from its painful +train of thought. He spoke finally with sharp accent: + +"No. I want to see Cleo." + +Helen slipped behind Minerva: + +"Stay and tell him now. I'll go." + +"No, better wait," was her low reply, as she watched Norton furtively. "I +don't like de way his eyes er spittin' fire." + +Norton turned to Minerva sharply: + +"Find Cleo and tell her I wish to see her immediately!" + +"Yassah--yassah!" Minerva answered, nervously, whispering to Helen: "Come +on, honey--git outen here--come on!" + +Helen followed mechanically, glancing timidly back over her shoulder at +Norton's drawn face. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +THE SECOND BLOW + + +Norton could scarcely control his eagerness to face the woman he loathed. +Every nerve of his body tingled with the agony of his desire to be free. + +He was ready for the end, no matter what she might do. The time had come in +the strong man's life when compromise, conciliation, and delay were alike +impossible. He cursed himself and his folly to-night that he had delayed so +long. He had tried to be fair to the woman he hated. His sense of justice, +personal honor, and loyalty to his pledged word, had given her the +opportunity to strike him the blow she had delivered through the girl. He +had been more than fair and he would settle it now for all time. + +That she was afraid to meet him was only too evident from her leaving the +house on his return. He smiled grimly when he recalled the effrontery with +which she had defied him at their last meeting. + +Her voice, sharp and angry, rang out to Andy at the back door. + +Norton's strong jaw closed with a snap, and he felt his whole being quiver +at the rasping sound of her familiar tones. She had evidently recovered her +composure and was ready with her usual insolence. + +She walked quickly into the room, and threw her head up with defiance: + +"Well?" + +"Why have you avoided me to-night?" + +"Have I?" + +"I think so." + +Cleo laughed sneeringly: + +"You'll think again before I'm done with you!" + +She shook her head with the old bravado, but the keen eyes of the man +watching saw that she was not sure of her ground. + +He folded his arms and quietly began: + +"For twenty years I have breathed the air poisoned by your presence. I have +seen your insolence grow until you have announced yourself the mistress of +my house. You knew that I was afraid of your tongue, and thought that a +coward would submit in the end. Well, it's over. I've held my hand for the +past four weeks until my duty to the people was done. I've been a coward +when I saw the tangled web of lies and shame in which I floundered. But the +past is past. I face life to-night as it is"--his voice dropped--"and I'm +going to take what comes. Your rule in my house is at an end----" + +"Indeed!" + +"Helen leaves here to-morrow morning and _you_ go." + +"Really?" + +"I've made a decent provision for your future--which is more than you +deserve. Pack your things!" + +The woman threw him a look of hate and her lips curved with scorn: + +"So--you have kindly allowed me to stay until your campaign was ended. +Well, I've understood you. I knew that you were getting ready for me. I'm +ready for you." + +"And you think that I will allow you to remain in my house after what has +passed between us?" + +"Yes, you will," she answered smiling. "I'm not going to leave. You'll have +to throw me into the street. And if you do, God may pity you, I'll not. +There's one thing you fear more than a public scandal!" + +Norton advanced and glared at her: + +"What?" + +"The hatred of the boy you idolize. I dare you to lay your hands on me to +put me out of this house! And if you do, Tom will hear from my lips the +story of the affair that ended in the death of his mother. I'll tell him +the truth, the whole truth, and then a great deal more than the truth----" + +"No doubt!" he interrupted. + +"But there'll be enough truth in all I say to convince him beyond a doubt. +I promise you now"--she dropped her voice to a whisper--"to lie to him with +a skill so sure, so cunning, so perfect, no denial you can ever make will +shake his faith in my words. He loves me and I'll make him believe me. When +I finish my story he ought to kill you. There's one thing you can depend on +with his high-strung and sensitive nature and the training you have given +him in racial purity--when he hears my story, he'll curse you to your face +and turn from you as if you were a leper. I'll see that he does this if +it's the last and only thing I do on this earth!" + +"And if you do----" + +"Oh, I'm not afraid!" she sneered, holding his eye with the calm assurance +of power. "I've thought it all over and I know exactly what to say." + +He leaned close: + +"Now listen! I don't want to hurt you but you're going out of my life. +Every day while I've sheltered you in this house you have schemed and +planned to drag me down again to your level. You have failed. I am not +going to risk that girl's presence here another day--and _you_ go!" + +As he spoke the last words he turned from her with a gesture of final +dismissal. She tossed her head in a light laugh and calmly said: + +"You're too late!" + +He stopped in his tracks, his heart chilled by the queer note of triumph in +her voice. Without turning or moving a muscle he asked: + +"What do you mean?" + +"Tom is already in love with Helen!" + +He wheeled and hurled himself at her: + +"What?" + +"And she is desperately in love with him"--she stopped and deliberately +laughed again in his face--"and I have known it for weeks!" + +Another step brought his trembling figure towering over her: + +"I don't believe you!" he hissed. + +Cleo walked leisurely to the door and smiled: + +"Ask the servants if you doubt my word." She finished with a sneer. "I +begged you not to fight, major!" + +He stood rooted to the spot and watched her slowly walk backward into the +hall. It was a lie, of course. And yet the calm certainty with which she +spoke chilled his soul as he recalled his own suspicions. He must know now +without a moment's delay and he must know the whole truth without +reservation. + +Before he approached either Tom or Helen there was one on whom he had +always relied to tell the truth. Her honest black face had been the one +comfort of his life through the years of shadow and deceit. If Minerva knew +she would tell him. + +He rushed to the door that led to the kitchen and called: + +"Minerva!" + +The answer came feebly: + +"Yassah." + +"Come here!" + +He had controlled his emotions sufficiently to speak his last command with +some degree of dignity. + +He walked back to the table and waited for her coming. His brain was in a +whirl of conflicting, stunning emotion. He simply couldn't face at once the +appalling possibilities such a statement involved. His mind refused to +accept it. As yet it was a lie of Cleo's fertile invention, and still his +reason told him that such a lie could serve no sane purpose in such a +crisis. He felt that he was choking. His hand involuntarily went to his +neck and fumbled at his collar. + +Minerva's heavy footstep was heard and he turned sharply: + +"Minerva!" + +"Yassah"--she answered, glancing at him timidly. Never had she seen his +face so ghastly or the look in his eye so desperate. She saw that he was +making an effort at self-control and knew instinctively that the happiness +of the lovers was at stake. It was too solemn a moment for anything save +the naked truth and her heart sank in pity and sympathy for the girl she +had promised to help. + +"Minerva," he began evenly, "you are the only servant in this house who +has never lied to me"--he took a step closer. "Are Tom and Miss Helen +lovers?" + +Minerva fumbled her apron, glanced at his drawn face, looked down on the +floor and stammered: + +"De Lordy, major----" + +"Yes or no!" he thundered. + +The black woman moistened her lips, hesitated, turned her honest face on +his and said tremblingly: + +"Yassah, dey is!" + +His eyes burned into hers: + +"And you, too, have known this for weeks?" + +"Yassah. Mister Tom ax me not ter tell ye----" + +Norton staggered to a seat and sank with a groan of despair, repeating over +and over again in low gasps the exclamation that was a sob and a prayer: + +"Great God!--Great God!" + +Minerva drew near with tender sympathy. Her voice was full of simple, +earnest pleading: + +"De Lordy, major, what's de use? Young folks is young folks, an' love's +love. What ye want ter break 'em up fer--dey's so happy! Yer know, sah, ye +can't mend er butterfly's wing er put er egg back in de shell. Miss Helen's +young, beautiful, sweet and good--won't ye let me plead fer 'em, sah?" + +With a groan of anguish Norton sprang to his feet: + +"Silence--silence!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Go--find Miss Helen--send her to me quickly. I don't want to see Mr. Tom. +I want to see her alone first." + +Minerva had backed out of his way and answered plaintively: + +"Yassah." + +She paused and extended her hand pleadingly: + +"You'll be easy wid 'em, sah?" + +He hadn't heard. The tall figure slowly sank into the chair and his +shoulders drooped in mortal weariness. + +Minerva shook her head sadly and turned to do his bidding. + +Norton's eyes were set in agony, his face white, his breast scarcely moving +to breathe, as he waited Helen's coming. The nerves suddenly snapped--he +bowed his face in his hands and sobbed aloud: + +"Oh, dear God, give me strength! I can't--I can't confess to my boy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE TEST OF LOVE + + +Norton made a desperate effort to pull himself together for his appeal to +Helen. On its outcome hung the possibility of saving himself from the +terror that haunted him. If he could tell the girl the truth and make her +see that a marriage with Tom was utterly out of the question because her +blood was stained with that of a negro, it might be possible to save +himself the humiliation of the full confession of their relationship and of +his bitter shame. + +He had made a fearful mistake in not telling her this at their first +interview, and a still more frightful mistake in rearing her in ignorance +of the truth. No life built on a lie could endure. He was still trying +desperately to hold his own on its shifting sands, but in his soul of souls +he had begun to despair of the end. He was clutching at straws. In moments +of sanity he realized it, but there was nothing else to do. The act was +instinctive. + +The girl's sensitive mind was the key to a possible solution. He had felt +instinctively on the day he told her the first fact about the disgrace of +her birth, vague and shadowy as he had left it, that she could never adjust +herself to the certainty that negro blood flowed in her veins. He had +observed that her aversion to negroes was peculiarly acute. If her love for +the boy were genuine, if it belonged to the big things of the soul, and +were not the mere animal impulse she had inherited from her mother, he +would have a ground of most powerful appeal. Love seeks not its own. If she +really loved she would sink her own life to save his. + +It was a big divine thing to demand of her and his heart sank at the +thought of her possible inheritance from Cleo. Yet he knew by an instinct +deeper and truer than reason, that the ruling power in this sensitive, +lonely creature was in the spirit, not the flesh. He recalled in vivid +flashes the moments he had felt this so keenly in their first pitiful +meeting. If he could win her consent to an immediate flight and the +sacrifice of her own desires to save the boy! It was only a hope--it was a +desperate one--but he clung to it with painful eagerness. + +Why didn't she come? The minutes seemed hours and there were minutes in +which he lived a life. + +He rose nervously and walked toward the mantel, lifted his eyes and they +rested on the portrait of his wife. + +"'My brooding spirit will watch and guard!'" + +He repeated the promise of her last scrawled message. He leaned heavily +against the mantel, his eyes burning with an unusual brightness. + +"Oh, Jean, darling," he groaned, "if you see and hear and know, let me feel +your presence! Your dear eyes are softer and kinder than the world's +to-night. Help me, I'm alone, heartsick and broken!" + +He choked down a sob, walked back to the chair and sank in silence. His +eyes were staring into space, his imagination on fire, passing in stern +review the events of his life. How futile, childish and absurd it all +seemed! What a vain and foolish thing its hope and struggles, its dreams +and ambitions! What a failure for all its surface brilliance! He was +standing again at the window behind the dais of the President of the +Senate, watching the little drooping figure of the Governor staggering away +into oblivion, and his heart went out to him in a great tenderness and +pity. He longed to roll back the years that he might follow the impulse he +had felt to hurry down the steps of the Capitol, draw the broken man into a +sheltered spot, slip his arms about him and say: + +"Who am I to judge? You're my brother--I'm sorry! Come, we'll try it again +and help one another!" + +The dream ended in a sudden start. He had heard the rustle of a dress at +the door and knew without lifting his head that she was in the room. + +Only the slightest sound had come from her dry throat, a little muffled +attempt to clear it of the tightening bands. It was scarcely audible, yet +his keen ear had caught it instantly, not only caught the excitement under +which she was struggling, but in it the painful consciousness of his +hostility and her pathetic desire to be friends. + +He rose trembling and turned his dark eyes on her white uplifted face. + +A feeling of terror suddenly weakened her knees. He was evidently not angry +as she had feared. There was something bigger and more terrible than anger +behind the mask he was struggling to draw over his mobile features. + +"What has happened, major?" she asked in a subdued voice. + +[Illustration: "Only the slightest sound came from her dry throat."] + +"That is what I must know of you, child," he replied, watching her +intently. + +She pressed closer with sudden desperate courage, her voice full of wistful +friendliness: + +"Oh, major, what have I done to offend you? I've tried so hard to win your +love and respect. All my life I've been alone in a world of strangers, +friendless and homesick----" + +He lifted his hand with a firm gesture: + +"Come, child, to the point! I must know the truth now. Tom has made love to +you?" + +She blushed: + +"I--I--wish to see Tom before I answer----" + +Norton dropped his uplifted arm with a groan: + +"Thank you," he murmured in tones scarcely audible. "I have your +answer!"--he paused and looked at her curiously--"And you love him?" + +The girl hesitated for just an instant, her blue eyes flashed and she drew +her strong, young figure erect: + +"Yes! And I'm proud of it. His love has lifted me into the sunlight and +made the world glorious--made me love everything in it--every tree and +every flower and every living thing that moves and feels-----" + +She stopped abruptly and lifted her flushed face to his: + +"I've learned to love you, in spite of your harshness to me--I love you +because you are his father!" + +He turned from her and then wheeled suddenly, his face drawn with pain: + +"Now, I must be frank, I must be brutal. I must know the truth without +reservation--how far has this thing gone?" + +"I--I--don't understand you!" + +"Marriage is impossible! I told you that and you must have realized it." + +Her head drooped: + +"You said so----" + +"Impossible--utterly impossible! And you know it"--he drew a deep breath. +"What--what are your real relations?" + +"My--real--relations?" she gasped. + +"Answer me now, before God! I'll hold your secret sacred--your life and his +may depend on it"--his voice dropped to a tense whisper. "Your love is pure +and unsullied?" + +The girl's eyes flashed with rage: + +"As pure and unsullied as his dead mother's for you!" + +"Thank God!" he breathed. "I believe you--but I had to know, child! I had +to know--there are big, terrible reasons why I had to know." + +A tear slowly stole down Helen's flushed cheeks as she quietly asked: + +"Why--why should you insult and shame me by asking that question?" + +"My knowledge of your birth." + +The girl smiled sadly: + +"Yet you might have guessed that I had learned to cherish honor and purity +before I knew I might not claim them as my birthright!" + +"Forgive me, child," he said contritely, "if in my eagerness, my fear, my +anguish, I hurt you. But I had to ask that question! I had to know. Your +answer gives me courage"--he paused and his voice quivered with deep +intensity--"you really love Tom?" + +"With a love beyond words!" + +"The big, wonderful love that comes to the human soul but once?" + +"Yes!" + +His eyes were piercing to the depths now: + +"With the deep, unselfish yearning that asks nothing for itself and seeks +only the highest good of its beloved?" + +"Yes--yes," she answered mechanically and, pausing, looked again into his +burning eyes; "but you frighten me--" she grasped a chair for support, +recovered herself and went on rapidly--"you mustn't ask me to give him +up--I won't give him up! Poor and friendless, with a shadow over my life +and everything against me, I have won him and he's mine! I have the right +to his love--I didn't ask to be born. I must live my own life. I have as +much right to happiness as you. Why must I bear the sins of my father and +mother? Have I broken the law? Haven't I a heart that can ache and break +and cry for joy?" + +He allowed the first paroxysm of her emotion to spend itself before he +replied, and then in quiet tones said: + +"You must give him up!" + +"I won't! I won't, I tell you!" she said through her set teeth as she +suddenly swung her strong, young form before him. "I won't give him up! His +love has made life worth living and I'm going to live it! I don't care what +you say--he's mine--and you shall not take him from me!" + +Norton was stunned by the fiery intensity with which her answer had been +given. There was no mistaking the strength of her character. Every vibrant +note of her voice had rung with sincerity, purity, the justice of her +cause, and the consciousness of power. He was dealing with no trembling +schoolgirl's mind, filled with sentimental dreams. A woman, in the tragic +strength of a great nature, stood before him. He felt this greatness +instinctively and met it with reverence. It could only be met thus, and as +he realized its strength, his heart took fresh courage. His own voice +became tender, eager, persuasive: + +"But suppose, my dear, I show you that you will destroy the happiness and +wreck the life of the man you love?" + +"Impossible! He knows that I'm nameless and his love is all the deeper, +truer and more manly because he realizes that I am defenseless." + +"But suppose I convince you?" + +"You can't!" + +"Suppose," he said in a queer tone, "I tell you that the barrier between +you is so real, so loathsome----" + +"Loathsome?" she repeated with a start. + +"So loathsome," he went on evenly, "that when he knows the truth, whether +he wishes it or not, he will instinctively turn from you with a shudder." + +"I won't believe it!" + +"Suppose I prove to you that marriage would wreck both your life and +his"--he gazed at her with trembling intensity--"would you give him up to +save him?" + +She held his eye steadily: + +"Yes--I'd die to save him!" + +A pitiful stillness followed. The man scarcely moved. His lips quivered and +his eyes grew dim. He looked at her pathetically and motioned her to a +seat. + +"And if I convince you," he went on tenderly, "you will submit yourself to +my advice and leave America?" + +The blue eyes never flinched as she firmly replied: + +"Yes. But I warn you that no such barrier can exist." + +"Then I must prove to you that it does." He drew a deep breath and watched +her. "You realize the fact that a man who marries a nameless girl bars +himself from all careers of honor?" + +"The honor of fools, yes--of the noble and wise, no!" + +"You refuse to see that the shame which shadows a mother's life will smirch +her children, and like a deadly gangrene at last eat the heart out of her +husband's love?" + +"My faith in him is too big----" + +"You can conceive of no such barrier?" + +"No!" + +"In the first rush of love," he replied kindly, "you feel this. Emotion +obscures reason. But there are such barriers between men and women." + +"Name one!" + +His brow clouded, his lips moved to speak and stopped. It was more +difficult to frame in speech than he had thought. His jaw closed with firm +decision at last and he began calmly: + +"I take an extreme case. Suppose, for example, your father, a proud +Southern white man, of culture, refinement and high breeding, forgot for a +moment that he was white and heard the call of the Beast, and your mother +were an octoroon--what then?" + +The girl flushed with anger: + +"Such a barrier, yes! Nothing could be more loathsome. But why ask me so +disgusting a question? No such barrier could possibly exist between us!" + +Norton's eyes were again burning into her soul as he asked in a low voice: + +"Suppose it does?" + +The girl smiled with a puzzled look: + +"Suppose it does? Of course, you're only trying to prove that such an +impossible barrier might exist! And for the sake of argument I agree that +it would be real"--she paused and her breath came in a quick gasp. She +sprang to her feet clutching at her throat, trembling from head to +foot--"What do you mean by looking at me like that?" + +Norton lowered his head and barely breathed the words: + +"That _is_ the barrier between you!" + +Helen looked at him dazed. The meaning was too big and stupefying to be +grasped at once. + +"Why, of course, major," she faltered, "you just say that to crush me in +the argument. But I've given up the point. I've granted that such a barrier +may exist and would be real. But you haven't told me the one between us." + +The man steeled his heart, turned his face away and spoke in gentle tones: + +"I am telling you the pitiful, tragic truth--your mother is a negress----" + +With a smothered cry of horror the girl threw herself on him and covered +his mouth with her hand, half gasping, half screaming her desperate appeal: + +"Stop! don't--don't say it!--take it back! Tell me that it's not true--tell +me that you only said it to convince me and I'll believe you. If the +hideous thing is true--for the love of God deny it now! If it's true--lie +to me"--her voice broke and she clung to Norton's arms with cruel +grip--"lie to me! Tell me that you didn't mean it, and I'll believe +you--truth or lie, I'll never question it! I'll never cross your purpose +again--I'll do anything you tell me, major"--she lifted her streaming eyes +and began slowly to sink to her knees--"see how humble--how obedient I am! +You don't hate me, do you? I'm just a poor, lonely girl, helpless and +friendless now at your feet"--her head sank into her hands until the +beautiful brown hair touched the floor--"have mercy! have mercy on me!" + +Norton bent low and fumbled for the trembling hand. He couldn't see and for +a moment words were impossible. + +He found her hand and pressed it gently: + +"I'm sorry, little girl! I'd lie to you if I could--but you know a lie +don't last long in this world. I've lied about you before--I'd lie now to +save you this anguish, but it's no use--we all have to face things in the +end!" + +With a mad cry of pain, the girl sprang to her feet and staggered to the +table: + +"Oh, God, how could any man with a soul--any living creature, even a beast +of the field--bring me into the world--teach me to think and feel, to laugh +and cry, and thrust me into such a hell alone! My proud father--I could +kill him!" + +Norton extended his hands to her in a gesture of instinctive sympathy: + +"Come, you'll see things in a calm light to-morrow, you are young and life +is all before you!" + +"Yes!" she cried fiercely, "a life of shame--a life of insult, of taunts, +of humiliation, of horror! The one thing I've always loathed was the touch +of a negro----" + +She stopped suddenly and lifted her hand, staring with wildly dilated eyes +at the nails of her finely shaped fingers to find if the telltale marks of +negro blood were there which she had seen on Cleo's. Finding none, the +horror in her eyes slowly softened into a look of despairing tenderness as +she went on: + +"The one passionate yearning of my soul has been to be a mother--to feel +the breath of a babe on my heart, to hear it lisp my name and know a +mother's love--the love I've starved for--and now, it can never be!" + +She had moved beyond the table in her last desperate cry and Norton +followed with a look of tenderness: + +"Nonsense," he cried persuasively, "you're but a child yourself. You can go +abroad where no such problem of white and black race exists. You can marry +there and be happy in your home and little ones, if God shall give them!" + +She turned on him savagely: + +"Well, God shall not give them! I'll see to that! I'm young, but I'm not a +fool. I know something of the laws of life. I know that Tom is not like +you"--she turned and pointed to the portrait on the wall--"he is like his +great-grandfather! Mine may have been----" + +Her voice choked with passion. She grasped a chair with one hand and tore +at the collar of her dress with the other. She had started to say "mine may +have been a black cannibal!" and the sheer horror of its possibility had +strangled her. When she had sufficiently mastered her feelings to speak she +said in a strange muffled tone: + +"I ask nothing of God now--if I could see Him, I'd curse Him to His face!" + +"Come, come!" Norton exclaimed, "this is but a passing ugly fancy--such +things rarely happen----" + +"But they do happen!" she retorted slowly. "I've known one such tragedy, of +a white mother's child coming into the world with the thick lips, kinky +hair, flat nose and black skin of a cannibal ancestor! She killed herself +when she was strong enough to leap out the window"--her voice dropped to a +dreamy chant--"yes, blood will tell--there's but one thing for me to do! I +wonder, with the yellow in me, if I'll have the courage." + +Norton spoke with persuasive tenderness: + +"You mustn't think of such madness! I'll send you abroad at once and you +can begin life over again----" + +Helen suddenly snatched the chair to which she had been holding out of her +way and faced Norton with flaming eyes: + +"I don't want to be an exile! I've been alone all my miserable orphan life! +I don't want to go abroad and die among strangers! I've just begun to live +since I came here! I love the South--it's mine--I feel it--I know it! I +love its blue skies and its fields--I love its people--they are mine! I +think as you think, feel as you feel----" + +She paused and looked at him queerly: + +"I've learned to honor, respect and love you because I've grown to feel +that you stand for what I hold highest, noblest and best in life"--the +voice died in a sob and she was silent. + +The man turned away, crying in his soul: + +"O God, I'm paying the price now!" + +"What can I do!" she went on at last. "What is life worth since I know this +leper's shame? There are millions like me, yes. If I could bend my back and +be a slave there are men and women who need my services. And there are men +I might know--yes--but I can't--I can't! I'm not a slave. I'm not bad. I +can't stoop. There's but one thing!" + +Norton's face was white with emotion: + +"I can't tell you, little girl, how sorry I am"--his voice broke. He +turned, suddenly extended his hand and cried hoarsely: "Tell me what I can +do to help you--I'll do anything on this earth that's within reason!" + +The girl looked up surprised at his anguish, wondering vaguely if he could +mean what he had said, and then threw herself at him in a burst of sudden, +fierce rebellion, her voice, low and quivering at first, rising to the +tragic power of a defiant soul in combat with overwhelming odds: + +"Then give me back the man I love--he's mine! He's mine, I tell you, body +and soul! God--gave--him--to--me! He's your son, but I love him! He's my +mate! He's of age--he's no longer yours! His time has come to build his own +home--he's mine--not yours! He's my life--and you're tearing the very heart +out of my body!" + +The white, trembling figure slowly crumpled at his feet. + +He took both of her hands, and lifted her gently: + +"Pull yourself together, child. It's hard, I know, but you begin to realize +that you must bear it. You must look things calmly in the face now." + +The girl's mouth hardened and she answered with bitterness: + +"Yes, of course--I'm nobody! We must consider you"--she staggered to a +chair and dropped limply into it, her voice a whisper--"we must consider +Tom--yes--yes--we must, too--I know that----" + +Norton pressed eagerly to her side and leaned over the drooping figure: + +"You can begin to see now that I was right," he pleaded. "You love +Tom--he's worth saving--you'll do as I ask and give him up?" + +The sensitive young face was convulsed with an agony words could not +express and the silence was pitiful. The man bending over her could hear +the throb of his own heart. A quartet of serenaders celebrating the victory +of the election stopped at the gate and the soft strains of the music came +through the open window. Norton felt that he must scream in a moment if she +did not answer. He bent low and softly repeated: + +"You'll do as I ask now, and give him up?" + +The tangled mass of brown hair sank lower and her answer was a sigh of +despair: + +"Yes!" + +The man couldn't speak at once. His eyes filled. When he had mastered his +voice he said eagerly: + +"There's but one way, you know. You must leave at once without seeing him." + +She lifted her face with a pleading look: + +"Just a moment--without letting him know what has passed between us--just +one last look into his dear face?" + +He shook his head kindly: + +"It isn't wise----" + +"Yes, I know," she sighed. "I'll go at once." + +He drew his watch and looked at it hurriedly: + +"The first train leaves in thirty minutes. Get your hat, a coat and +travelling bag and go just as you are. I'll send your things----" + +"Yes--yes"--she murmured. + +"I'll join you in a few days in New York and arrange your future. Leave the +house immediately. Tom mustn't see you. Avoid him as you cross the lawn. +I'll have a carriage at the gate in a few minutes." + +The little head sank again: + +"I understand." + +He looked uncertainly at the white drooping figure. The serenaders were +repeating the chorus of the old song in low, sweet strains that floated +over the lawn and stole through the house in weird ghost-like echoes. He +returned to her chair and bent over her: + +"You won't stop to change your dress, you'll get your hat and coat and go +just as you are--at once?" + +The brown head nodded slowly and he gazed at her tenderly: + +"You've been a brave little girl to-night"--he lifted his hand to place it +on her shoulder in the first expression of love he had ever given. The hand +paused, held by the struggle of the feelings of centuries of racial pride +and the memories of his own bitter tragedy. But the pathos of her suffering +and the heroism of her beautiful spirit won. The hand was gently lowered +and pressed the soft, round shoulder. + +A sob broke from the lonely heart, and her head drooped until it lay +prostrate on the table, the beautiful arms outstretched in helpless +surrender. + +Norton staggered blindly to the door, looked back, lifted his hand and in a +quivering voice, said: + +"I can never forget this!" + +His long stride quickly measured the distance to the gate, and a loud cheer +from the serenaders roused the girl from her stupor of pain. + +In a moment they began singing again, a love song, that tore her heart with +cruel power. + +"Oh, God, will they never stop?" she cried, closing her ears with her hands +in sheer desperation. + +She rose, crossed slowly to the window and looked out on the beautiful +moonlit lawn at the old rustic seat where her lover was waiting. She +pressed her hand on her throbbing forehead, walked to the center of the +room, looked about her in a helpless way and her eye rested on the +miniature portrait of Tom. She picked it up and gazed at it tenderly, +pressed it to her heart, and with a low sob felt her way through the door +and up the stairs to her room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE PARTING + + +Tom had grown impatient, waiting in their sheltered seat on the lawn for +Helen to return. She had gone on a mysterious mission to see Minerva, +laughingly refused to tell him its purpose, but promised to return in a few +minutes. When half an hour had passed without a sign he reconnoitered to +find Minerva, and to his surprise she, too, had disappeared. + +He returned to his trysting place and listened while the serenaders sang +their first song. Unable to endure the delay longer he started to the house +just as his father hastily left by the front door, and quickly passing the +men at the gate, hurried down town. + +The coast was clear and he moved cautiously to fathom, if possible, the +mystery of Helen's disappearance. Finding no trace of her in Minerva's +room, he entered the house and, seeing nothing of her in the halls, thrust +his head in the library and found it empty. He walked in, peeping around +with a boyish smile expecting her to leap out and surprise him. He opened +the French window and looked for her on the porch. He hurried back into the +room with a look of surprised disappointment and started to the door +opening on the hall of the stairway. He heard distinctly the rustle of a +dress and the echo on the stairs of the footstep he knew so well. + +He gave a boyish laugh, tiptoed quickly to the old-fashioned settee, +dropped behind its high back and waited her coming. + +Helen had hastily packed a travelling bag and thrown a coat over her arm. +She slowly entered the library to replace the portrait she had taken, +kissed it and started with feet of lead and set, staring eyes to slip +through the lawn and avoid Tom as she had promised. + +As she approached the corner of the settee the boy leaped up with a laugh: + +"Where have you been?" + +With a quick movement of surprise she threw the bag and coat behind her +back. Luckily he had leaped so close he could not see. + +"Where've you been?" he repeated. + +"Why, I've just come from my room," she replied with an attempt at +composure. + +"What have you got your hat for?" + +She flushed the slightest bit: + +"Why, I was going for a walk." + +"With a veil--at night--what have you got that veil for?" + +The boyish banter in his tones began to yield to a touch of wonder. + +Helen hesitated: + +"Why, the crowds of singing and shouting men on the streets. I didn't wish +to be recognized, and I wanted to hear what the speakers said." + +"You were going to leave me and go alone to the speaker's stand?" + +"Yes. Your father is going to see you and I was nervous and frightened and +wanted to pass the time until you were free again"--she paused, looked at +him intently and spoke in a queer monotone--"the negroes who can't read and +write have been disfranchised, haven't they?" + +"Yes," he answered mechanically, "the ballot should never have been given +them." + +"Yet there's something pitiful about it after all, isn't there, Tom?" She +asked the question with a strained wistfulness that startled the boy. + +He answered automatically, but his keen, young eyes were studying with +growing anxiety every movement of her face and form and every tone of her +voice: + +"I don't see it," he said carelessly. + +She laid her left hand on his arm, the right hand still holding her bag and +coat out of sight. + +"Suppose," she whispered, "that you should wake up to-morrow morning and +suddenly discover that a strain of negro blood poisoned your veins--what +would you do?" + +Tom frowned and watched her with a puzzled look: + +"Never thought of such a thing!" + +She pressed his arm eagerly: + +"Think--what would you do?" + +"What would I do?" he repeated in blank amazement. + +"Yes." + +His eyes were holding hers now with a steady stare of alarm. The questions +she asked didn't interest him. Her glittering eyes and trembling hand did. +Studying her intently he said lightly: + +"To be perfectly honest, I'd blow my brains out." + +With a cry she staggered back and threw her hand instinctively up as if to +ward a blow: + +"Yes--yes, you would--wouldn't you?" + +He was staring at her now with blanched face and she was vainly trying to +hide her bag and coat. + +He seized her arms: + +"Why are you so excited? Why do you tremble so?"--he drew the arm around +that she was holding back--"What is it? What's the matter?" + +His eye rested on the bag, he turned deadly pale and she dropped it with a +sigh. + +"What--what--does this mean?" he gasped. "You are trying to leave me +without a word?" + +She staggered and fell limp into a seat: + +"Oh, Tom, the end has come, and I must go!" + +"Go!" he cried indignantly, "then I go, too!" + +"But you can't, dear!" + +"And why not?" + +"Your father has just told me the whole hideous secret of my birth--and +it's hopeless!" + +"What sort of man do you think I am? What sort of love do you think I've +given you? Separate us after the solemn vows we've given to each other! +Neither man nor the devil can come between us now!" + +She looked at him wistfully: + +"It's sweet to hear such words--though I know you can't make them good." + +"I'll make them good," he broke in, "with every drop of blood in my +veins--and no coward has ever borne my father's name--it's good blood!" + +"That's just it--and blood will tell. It's the law of life and I've given +up." + +"Well, I haven't given up," he protested, "remember that! Try me with your +secret--I laugh before I hear it!" + +With a gleam of hope in her deep blue eyes she rose trembling: + +"You really mean that? If I go an outcast you would go with me?" + +"Yes--yes." + +"And if a curse is branded on my forehead you'll take its shame as yours?" + +"Yes." + +She laid her hand on his arm, looked long and yearningly into his eyes, and +said: + +"Your father has just told me that I am a negress--my mother is an +octoroon!" + +The boy flinched involuntarily, stared in silence an instant, and his form +suddenly stiffened: + +"I don't believe a word of it! My father has been deceived. It's +preposterous!" + +Helen drew closer as if for shelter and clung to his hand wistfully: + +"It does seem a horrible joke, doesn't it? I can't realize it. But it's +true. The major gave me his solemn word in tears of sympathy. He knew both +my father and mother. I am a negress!" + +The boy's arm unconsciously shrank the slightest bit from her touch while +he stared at her with wildly dilated eyes and spoke in a hoarse whisper: + +"It's impossible! It's impossible--I tell you!" + +He attempted to lift his hand to place it on his throbbing forehead. Helen +clung to him in frantic grief and terror: + +"Please, please--don't shrink from me! Have pity on me! If you feel that +way, for God's sake don't let me see it--don't let me know it--I--I--can't +endure it! I can't----" + +The tense figure collapsed in his arms and the brown head sank on his +breast with a sob of despair. The boy pressed her to his heart and held her +close. He felt her body shiver as he pushed the tangled ringlets back from +her high, fair forehead and felt the cold beads of perspiration. The +serenaders at the gate were singing again--a negro folk-song. The absurd +childish words which he knew so well rang through the house, a chanting +mockery. + +"There, there," he whispered tenderly, "I didn't shrink from you, dear. I +couldn't shrink from you--you only imagined it. I was just stunned for a +moment. The blow blinded me. But it's all right now, I see things clearly. +I love you--that's all--and love is from God, or it's not love, it's a +sham----" + +A low sob and she clung to him with desperate tenderness. + +He bent his head close until the blonde hair mingled with the rich brown: + +"Hush, my own! If a single nerve of my body shrank from your little hand, +find it and I'll tear it out!" + +She withdrew herself slowly from his embrace, and brushed the tears from +her eyes with a little movement of quiet resignation: + +"It's all right. I'm calm again and it's all over. I won't mind now if you +shrink a little. I'm really glad that you did. It needed just that to +convince me that your father was right. Our love would end in the ruin of +your life. I see it clearly now. It would become to you at last a conscious +degradation. _That_ I couldn't endure." + +"I have your solemn vow," he interrupted impatiently, "you're mine! I'll +not give you up!" + +She looked at him sadly: + +"But I'm going, dear, in a few minutes. You can't hold me--now that I know +it's for the best." + +"You can't mean this?" + +She clung to his hand and pressed it with cruel force: + +"Don't think it isn't hard. All my life I've been a wistful beggar, eager +and hungry for love. In your arms I had forgotten the long days of misery. +I've been happy--perfectly, divinely happy! It will be hard, the darkness +and the loneliness again. But I can't drag you down, my sweetheart, my +hero! Your life must be big and brilliant. I've dreamed it thus. You shall +be a man among men, the world's great men--and so I am going out of your +life!" + +"You shall not!" the boy cried fiercely. "I tell you I don't believe this +hideous thing--it's a lie, I tell you--it's a lie, and I don't care who +says it! Nothing shall separate us now. I'll go with you to the ends of the +earth and if you sink into hell, I'll follow you there, lift you in my arms +and fight my way back through its flames!" + +She smiled at him tenderly: + +"It's beautiful to hear you say that, dearest, but our dream has ended!" + +She stooped, took up the bag and coat, paused and looked into his face with +the hunger and longing of a life burning in her eyes: + +"But I shall keep the memory of every sweet and foolish word you have +spoken, every tone of your voice, every line of your face, every smile and +trick of your lips and eyes! I know them all. The old darkness will not be +the same. I have loved and I have lived. A divine fire has been kindled in +my soul. I can go into no world so far I shall not feel the warmth of your +love, your kisses on my lips, your strong arms pressing me to your +heart--the one true, manly heart that has loved me. I shall see your face +forever though I see it through a mist of tears--good-by!" + +The last word was the merest whisper. + +The boy sprang toward her: + +"I won't say it--I won't--I won't!" + +"But you must!" + +He opened his arms and called in tones of compelling anguish: + +"Helen!" + +The girl's lips trembled, her eyes grew dim, her fingers were locked in a +cruel grip trying to hold the bag which slipped to the floor. And then with +a cry she threw herself madly into his arms: + +"Oh, I can't give you up, dearest! I can't--I've tried--but I can't!" + +He held her clasped without a word, stroking her hair, kissing it tenderly +and murmuring little inarticulate cries of love. + +Norton suddenly appeared in the door, his face blanched with horror. With a +rush of his tall figure he was by their side and hurled them apart: + +"My God! Do you know what you're doing?" + +He turned on Tom, his face white with pain: + +"I forbid you to ever see or speak to this girl again!" + +Tom sprang back and confronted his father: + +"Forbid!" + +Helen lifted her head: + +"He's right, Tom." + +"Yes," the father said with bated breath, "in the name of the law--by all +that's pure and holy, by the memory of the mother who bore you and the +angels who guard the sanctity of every home, I forbid you!" + +The boy squared himself and drew his figure to its full height: + +"You're my father! But I want you to remember that I'm of age. I'm +twenty-two years old and I'm a man! Forbid? How dare you use such words to +me in the presence of the woman I love?" + +Norton's voice dropped to pitiful tenderness: + +"You--you--don't understand, my boy. Helen knows that--I'm right. We have +talked it over. She has agreed to go at once. The carriage will be at the +door in a moment. She can never see you again"--he paused and lifted his +hand solemnly above Tom's head--"and in the name of Almighty God I warn you +not to attempt to follow her----" + +He turned quickly, picked up the fallen bag and coat and added: + +"I'll explain all to you at last if I must." + +"Well, I won't hear it!" Tom cried in rage. "I'm a free agent! I won't take +such orders from you or any other man!" + +The sound of the carriage wheels were heard on the graveled drive at the +door. + +Norton turned to Helen and took her arm: + +"Come, Helen, the carriage is waiting." + +With a sudden leap Tom was by his side, tore the bag and coat from his +hand, hurled them to the floor and turned on his father with blazing eyes: + +"Now, look here, Dad, this thing's going too far! You can't bulldoze me. +There's one right no American man ever yields without the loss of his +self-respect--the right to choose the woman he loves. When Helen leaves +this house, I go with her! I'm running this thing now--your carriage +needn't wait." + +With sudden decision he rushed to the porch and and called: + +"Driver!" + +"Yassah." + +"Go back to your stable--you're not wanted." + +"Yassah." + +"I'll send for you if I want you--wait a minute till I tell you." + +Norton's head drooped and he blindly grasped a chair. + +Helen watched him with growing pity, drew near and said softly: + +"I'm sorry, major, to have brought you this pain----" + +"You promised to go without seeing him!" he exclaimed bitterly. + +"I tried. I only gave up for a moment. I fought bravely. Remember now in +all you say to Tom that I am going--that I know I must go----" + +"Yes, I understand, child," he replied brokenly, "and my heart goes out to +you. Mine is heavy to-night with a burden greater than I can bear. You're a +brave little girl. The fault isn't yours--it's mine. I've got to face it +now"--he paused and looked at her tenderly. "You say that you've been +lonely--well, remember that in all your orphan life you never saw an hour +as lonely as the one my soul is passing through now! The loneliest road +across this earth is the way of sin." + +Helen watched him in amazement: + +"The way of sin--why----" + +Tom's brusque entrance interrupted her. With quick, firm decision he took +her arm and led her to the door opening on the hall: + +"Wait for me in your room, dear," he said quietly. "I have something to say +to my father." + +She looked at him timidly: + +"You won't forget that he is your father, and loves you better than his own +life?" + +"I'll not forget." + +She started with sudden alarm and whispered: + +"You haven't got the pistol that you brought home to-day from the campaign, +have you?" + +"Surely, dear----" + +"Give it to me!" she demanded. + +"No." + +"Why?" she asked pleadingly. + +"I've too much self-respect." + +She looked into his clear eyes: + +"Forgive me, dear, but I was so frightened just now. You were so violent. I +never saw you like that before. I was afraid something might happen in a +moment of blind passion, and I could never lift my head again----" + +"I'll not forget," he broke in, "if my father does. Run now, dear, I'll +join you in a few minutes." + +A pressure of the hand, a look of love, and she was gone. The boy closed +the door, quickly turned and faced his father. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +FATHER AND SON + + +Norton had ignored the scene between Helen and Tom and his stunned mind was +making a desperate fight to prepare for the struggle that was inevitable. + +The thing that gave him fresh courage was the promise the girl had repeated +that she would go. Somehow he had grown to trust her implicitly. He hadn't +time as yet to realize the pity and pathos of such a trust in such an hour. +He simply believed that she would keep her word. He had to win his fight +now with the boy without the surrender of his secret. Could he do it? It +was doubtful, but he was going to try. His back was to the wall. + +Tom took another step into the room and the father turned, drew his tall +figure erect in an instinctive movement of sorrowful dignity and reserve +and walked to the table. + +All traces of anger had passed from the boy's handsome young face and a +look of regret had taken its place. He began speaking very quietly and +reverently: + +"Now, Dad, we must face this thing. It's a tragedy for you perhaps----" + +The father interrupted: + +"How big a tragedy, my son, I hope that you may never know----" + +"Anyhow," Tom went on frankly, "I am ashamed of the way I acted. But you're +a manly man and you can understand." + +"Yes." + +"I know that all you've done is because you love me----" + +"How deeply, you can never know." + +"I'm sorry if I forgot for a moment the respect I owe you, the reverence +and love I hold for you--I've always been proud of you, Dad--of your +stainless name, of the birthright you have given me--you know this----" + +"Yet it's good to hear you say it!" + +"And now that I've said this, you'd as well know first as last that any +argument about Helen is idle between us. I'm not going to give up the woman +I love!" + +"Ah, my boy----" + +Tom lifted his hand emphatically: + +"It's no use! You needn't tell me that her blood is tainted--I don't +believe it!" + +The father came closer: + +"You _do_ believe it! In the first mad riot of passion you're only trying +to fool yourself." + +"It's unthinkable, I tell you! and I've made my decision"--he paused a +moment and then demanded: "How do you know her blood is tainted?" + +The father answered firmly: + +"I have the word both of her mother and father." + +"Well, I won't take their word. Some natures are their own defense. On them +no stain can rest, and I stake my life on Helen's!" + +"My boy----" + +"Oh, I know what you're going to say--as a theory it's quite correct. But +it's one thing to accept a theory, another to meet the thing in your own +heart before God alone with your life in your hands." + +"What do you mean by that?" the father asked savagely. + +"That for the past hour I've been doing some thinking on my own account." + +"That's just what you haven't been doing. You haven't thought at all. If +you had, you'd know that you can't marry this girl. Come, come, my boy, +remember that you have reason and because you have this power that's bigger +than all passion, all desire, all impulse, you're a man, not a brute----" + +"All right," the boy broke in excitedly, "submit it to reason! I'll stand +the test--it's more than you can do. I love this girl--she's my mate. She +loves me and I am hers. Haven't I taken my stand squarely on Nature and her +highest law?" + +"No!" + +"What's higher? Social fictions--prejudices?" + +The father lifted his head: + +"Prejudices! You know as well as I that the white man's instinct of racial +purity is not prejudice, but God's first law of life--the instinct of +self-preservation! The lion does not mate with the jackal!" + +The boy flushed angrily: + +"The girl I love is as fair as you or I." + +"Even so," was the quick reply, "we inherit ninety per cent. of character +from our dead ancestors! Born of a single black progenitor, she is still a +negress. Change every black skin in America to-morrow to the white of a +lily and we'd yet have ten million negroes--ten million negroes whose +blood relatives are living in Africa the life of a savage." + +"Granted that what you say it true--and I refuse to believe it--I still +have the right to live my own life in my own way." + +"No man has the right to live life in his own way if by that way he imperil +millions." + +"And whom would I imperil?" + +"The future American. No white man ever lived who desired to be a negro. +Every negro longs to be a white man. No black man has ever added an iota to +the knowledge of the world of any value to humanity. In Helen's body flows +sixteen million tiny drops of blood--one million black--poisoned by the +inheritance of thousands of years of savage cruelty, ignorance, slavery and +superstition. The life of generations are bound up in you. In you are wrapt +the onward years. Man's place in nature is no longer a myth. You are bound +by the laws of heredity--laws that demand a nobler not a baser race of men! +Shall we improve the breed of horses and degrade our men? You have no right +to damn a child with such a legacy!" + +"But I tell you I'm not trying to--I refuse to see in her this stain!" + +The father strode angrily to the other side of the room in an effort to +control his feelings: + +"Because you refuse to think, my boy!" he cried in agony. "I tell you, you +can't defy these laws! They are eternal--never new, never old--true a +thousand years ago, to-day, to-morrow and on a million years, when this +earth is thrown, a burnt cinder, into God's dust heap. I can't tell you +what I feel--it strangles me!" + +"No, and I can't understand it. I feel one thing, the touch of the hand of +the woman I love; hear one thing, the music of her voice----" + +"And in that voice, my boy, I hear the crooning of a savage mother! But +yesterday our negroes were brought here from the West Soudan, black, +chattering savages, nearer the anthropoid ape than any other living +creature. And you would dare give to a child such a mother? Who is this +dusky figure of the forest with whom you would cross your blood? In old +Andy there you see him to-day, a creature half child, half animal. For +thousands of years beyond the seas he stole his food, worked his wife, sold +his child, and ate his brother--great God, could any tragedy be more +hideous than our degradation at last to his racial level!" + +"It can't happen! It's a myth!" + +"It's the most dangerous thing that threatens the future!" the father cried +with desperate earnestness. "A pint of ink can make black gallons of water. +The barriers once down, ten million negroes can poison the source of life +and character for a hundred million whites. This nation is great for one +reason only--because of the breed of men who created the Republic! Oh, my +boy, when you look on these walls at your fathers, don't you see this, +don't you feel this, don't you know this?" + +Tom shook his head: + +"To-night I feel and know one thing. I love her! We don't choose whom we +love----" + +"Ah, but if we are more than animals, if we reason, we do choose whom we +marry! Marriage is not merely a question of personal whim, impulse or +passion. It's the one divine law on which human society rests. There are +always men who hear the call of the Beast and fall below their ideals, who +trail the divine standards of life in the dust as they slink under the +cover of night----" + +"At least, I'm not trying to do that!" + +"No, worse! You would trample them under your feet at noon in defiance of +the laws of man and God! You're insane for the moment. You're mad with +passion. You're not really listening to me at all--I feel it!" + +"Perhaps I'm not----" + +"Yet you don't question the truth of what I've said. You can't question it. +You just stand here blind and maddened by desire, while I beg and plead, +saying in your heart: 'I want this woman and I'm going to have her.' You've +never faced the question that she's a negress--you can't face it, and yet I +tell you that I know it's true!" + +The boy turned on his father and studied him angrily for a moment, his blue +eyes burning into his, his face flushed and his lips curled with the +slightest touch of incredulity: + +"And do you really believe all you've been saying to me?" + +"As I believe in God!" + +With a quick, angry gesture he faced his father: + +"Well, you've had a mighty poor way of showing it! If you really believed +all you've been saying to me, you wouldn't stop to eat or sleep until every +negro is removed from physical contact with the white race. And yet on the +day that I was born you placed me in the arms of a negress! The first human +face on which I looked was hers. I grew at her breast. You let her love me +and teach me to love her. You keep only negro servants. I grow up with +them, fall into their lazy ways, laugh at their antics and see life through +their eyes, and now that my life touches theirs at a thousand points of +contact, you tell me that we must live together and yet a gulf separates +us! Why haven't you realized this before? If what you say about Helen is +true, in God's name--I ask it out of a heart quivering with anguish--why +haven't you realized it before? I demand an answer! I have the right to +know!" + +Norton's head was lowered while the boy poured out his passionate protest +and he lifted it at the end with a look of despair: + +"You have the right to know, my boy. But the South has not a valid answer +to your cry. The Negro is not here by my act or will, and their continued +presence is a constant threat against our civilization. Equality is the law +of life and we dare not grant it to the negro unless we are willing to +descend to his racial level. We cannot lift him to ours. This truth forced +me into a new life purpose twenty years ago. The campaign I have just +fought and won is the first step in a larger movement to find an answer to +your question in the complete separation of the races--and nothing is surer +than that the South will maintain the purity of her home! It's as fixed as +her faith in God!" + +The boy was quiet a moment and looked at the tall figure with a queer +expression: + +"Has she maintained it?" + +"Yes." + +"Is her home life clean?" + +"Yes." + +"And these millions of children born in the shadows--these mulattoes?" + +The older man's lips trembled and his brow clouded: + +"The lawless have always defied the law, my son, North, South, East and +West, but they have never defended their crimes. Dare to do this thing +that's in your heart and you make of crime a virtue and ask God's blessing +on it. The difference between the two things is as deep and wide as the +gulf between heaven and hell." + +"My marriage to Helen will be the purest and most solemn act of my +life----" + +"Silence, sir!" the father thundered in a burst of uncontrollable passion, +as he turned suddenly on him, his face blanched and his whole body +trembling. "I tell you once for all that your marriage to this girl is a +physical and moral impossibility! And I refuse to argue with you a question +that's beyond all argument!" + +The two men glared at each other in a duel of wills in which steel cut +steel without a tremor of yielding. And then with a sudden flash of anger, +Tom turned on his heel crying: + +"All right, then!" + +With swift, determined step he moved toward the door. The father grasped +the corner of the table for support: + +"Tom!" + +His hands were extended in pitiful appeal when the boy stopped as if in +deep study, turned, looked at him, and walked deliberately back: + +"I'm going to ask you some personal questions!" + +In spite of his attempt at self-control, Norton's face paled. He drew +himself up with an attempt at dignified adjustment to the new situation, +but his hands were trembling as he nervously repeated: + +"Personal questions?" + +"Yes. There's something very queer about your position. Your creed forbids +you to receive a negro as a social equal?" + +"Yes." + +The boy suddenly lifted his head: + +"Why did you bring Helen into this house?" + +"I didn't bring her." + +"You didn't invite her?" + +"No." + +"She says that you did." + +"She thought so." + +"She got an invitation?" + +"Yes." + +"Signed with your name?" + +"Yes, yes." + +"Who dared to write such a letter without your knowledge?" + +"I can't tell you that." + +"I demand it!" + +Norton struggled between anger and fear and finally answered in measured +tones: + +"It was forged by an enemy who wished to embarrass me in this campaign." + +"You know who wrote it?" + +"I suspect." + +"You don't _know_?" + +"I said, I suspect," was the angry retort. + +"And you didn't kill him?" + +"In this campaign my hands were tied." + +The boy, watching furtively his father's increasing nervousness and anger, +continued his questions in a slower, cooler tone: + +"When you returned and found her here, you could have put her out?" + +"Yes," Norton answered tremblingly, "and I ought to have done it!" + +"But you didn't?" + +"No." + +"Why?" + +The father fumbled his watch chain, moved uneasily and finally said with +firmness: + +"I am Helen's guardian!" + +The boy lifted his brows: + +"You are supposed to be his attorney only. Why did you, of all men on +earth, accept such a position?" + +"I felt that I had to." + +"And the possibility of my meeting this girl never occurred to you? You, +who have dinned into my ears from childhood that I should keep myself clean +from the touch of such pollution--why did you take the risk?" + +"A sense of duty to one to whom I felt bound." + +"Duty?" + +"Yes." + +"It must have been deep--what duty?" + +Norton lifted his hand in a movement of wounded pride: + +"My boy!" + +"Come, come, Dad, don't shuffle; this thing's a matter of life and death +with me and you must be fair----" + +"I'm trying----" + +"I want to know why you are Helen's guardian, exactly why. We must face +each other to-day with souls bare--why are you her guardian?" + +"I--I--can't tell you." + +"You've got to tell me!" + +"You must trust me in this, my son!" + +"I won't do it!" the boy cried, trembling with passion that brought the +tears blinding to his eyes. "We're not father and son now. We face each +other man to man with two lives at stake--hers and mine! You can't ask me +to trust you! I won't do it--I've got to know!" + +The father turned away: + +"I can't betray this secret even to you, my boy." + +"Does any one else share it?" + +"Why do you use that queer tone? What do you mean?" The father's last +question was barely breathed. + +"Nothing," the boy answered with a toss of his head. "Does any one in this +house suspect it?" + +"Possibly." + +Again Tom paused, watching keenly: + +"On the day you returned and found Helen here, you quarrelled with Cleo?" + +Norton wheeled with sudden violence: + +"We won't discuss this question further, sir!" + +"Yes, we will," was the steady answer through set teeth. "Haven't you been +afraid of Cleo?" + +The father's eyes were looking into his now with a steady stare: + +"I refuse to be cross-examined, sir!" + +Tom ignored his answer: + +"Hasn't Cleo been blackmailing you?" + +"No--no." + +The boy held his father's gaze until it wavered, and then in cold tones +said: + +"You are not telling me the truth!" + +Norton flinched as if struck: + +"Do you know what you are saying. Have you lost your senses?" + +Tom held his ground with dogged coolness: + +"_Have_ you told me the truth?" + +"Yes." + +"It's a lie!" + +The words were scarcely spoken when Norton's clenched fist struck him a +blow full in the face. + +A wild cry of surprise, inarticulate in fury, came from the boy's lips as +he staggered against the table. He glared at his father, drew back a step, +his lips twitching, his breath coming in gasps, and suddenly felt for the +revolver in his pocket. + +With a start of horror the father cried: + +"My boy!" + +The hand dropped limp, he leaned against the table for support and sobbed: + +"O God! Let me die!" + +Norton rushed to his side, his voice choking with grief: + +"Tom, listen!" + +"I won't listen!" he hissed. "I never want to hear the sound of your voice +again!" + +"Don't say that--you don't mean it!" the father pleaded. + +"I do mean it!" + +Norton touched his arm tenderly: + +"You can't mean it, Tom. You're all I've got in the world. You mustn't say +that. Forgive me--I was mad. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't mean +to strike you. I forgot for a moment that you're a man, proud and sensitive +as I am----" + +The boy tore himself free from his touch and crossed the room with quick, +angry stride and turned: + +"Well, you'd better not forget it again"--he paused and drew himself erect. +"You're my father, but I tell you to your face that I hate and loathe +you----" + +The silver-gray head drooped: + +"That I should have lived to hear it!" + +"And I want you to understand one thing," Tom went on fiercely, "if an +angel from heaven told me that Helen's blood was tainted, I'd demand +proofs! You have shown none, and I'm not going to give up the woman I +love!" + +Norton supported himself by the table and felt his way along its edges as +if blinded. His eyes were set with a half-mad stare as he gripped Tom's +shoulders: + +"I love you, my boy, with a love beyond your ken, a love that can be fierce +and cruel when God calls, and sooner than see you marry this girl, I'll +kill you with my own hands if I must!" + +The answer came slowly: + +"And you can't guess what's happened?" + +"Guess--what's--happened!" the father repeated in a whisper. "What do you +mean?" + +"That I'm married already!" + +With hands uplifted, his features convulsed, the father fell back, his +voice a low piteous shriek: + +"Merciful God!--No!" + +"Married an hour before you dragged me away in that campaign!" he shouted +in triumph. "I knew you'd never consent and so I took matters into my own +hands!" + +With a leap Norton grasped the boy again and shook him madly: + +"Married already? It's not true, I tell you! It's not true. You're lying to +me--lying to gain time--it's not true!" + +"You wish me to swear it?" + +"Silence, sir!" the father cried in solemn tones. "You are my son--this is +my house--I order you to be silent!" + +"Before God, I swear it's true! Helen is my lawful----" + +"Don't say it! It's false--you lie, I tell you!" Again the father shook him +with cruel violence, his eyes staring with the glitter of a maniac. + +Tom seized the trembling hands and threw them from his shoulders with a +quick movement of anger: + +"If that's all you've got to say, sir, excuse me, I'll go to my wife!" + +He wheeled, slammed the door and was gone. + +The father stared a moment, stunned, looked around blankly, placed his +hands over his ears and held them, crying: + +"God have mercy!" + +He rushed to a window and threw it open. The band was playing "For He's a +Jolly Good Fellow!" The mocking strains rolled over his prostrate soul. He +leaned heavily against the casement and groaned: + +"My God!" + +He slammed the sash, staggered back into the room, lifted his eyes in a +leaden stare at the portrait over the mantel, and then rushed toward it +with uplifted arms and streaming eyes: + +"It's not true, dearest! Don't believe it--it's not true, I tell you! It's +not true!" + +The voice sank into inarticulate sobs, he reeled and fell, a limp, black +heap on the floor. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE ONE CHANCE + + +The dim light began to creep into the darkened brain at last. Norton's eyes +opened wider and the long arms felt their way on the floor until they +touched a rug and then a chair. He tried to think what had happened and why +he was lying there. It seemed a dream, half feverish, half restful. His +head was aching and he was very tired. + +"What's the matter?" he murmured, unable to lift his head. + +He was whirling through space again and the room faded. Once before in his +life had he been knocked insensible. From the trenches before Petersburg in +the last days of the war he had led his little band of less than five +hundred ragged, half-starved, tatterdemalions in a mad charge against the +line in front. A bomb from a battery on a hilltop exploded directly before +them. He had been thrown into the air and landed on a heap of dead bodies, +bruised and stunned into insensibility. He had waked feeling the dead limbs +and wondering if they were his own. + +He rubbed his hands now, first over his head, and then over each limb, to +find if all were there. He felt his body to see if a bomb had torn part of +it away. + +And then the light of memory suddenly flashed into the darkened mind and +he drew himself to his knees and fumbled his way to a chair. + +"Married? Married already!" he gasped. "O, God, it can't be true! And he +said, 'married an hour before you dragged me away in that campaign'"--it +was too hideous! He laughed in sheer desperation and again his brain +refused to work. He pressed his hands to his forehead and looked about the +room, rose, staggered to the bell and rang for Andy. + +When his black face appeared, he lifted his bloodshot eyes and said feebly: + +"Whiskey----" + +The negro bowed: + +"Yassah!" + +He pulled himself together and tried to walk. He could only reel from one +piece of furniture to the next. His head was on fire. He leaned again +against the mantel for support and dropped his head on his arm in utter +weariness: + +"I must think! I must think!" + +Slowly the power to reason returned. + +"What can I do? What can I do?" he kept repeating mechanically, until the +only chance of escape crept slowly into his mind. He grasped it with +feverish hope. + +If Tom had married but an hour before leaving on that campaign, he hadn't +returned until to-day. But had he? It was, of course, a physical +possibility. From the nearby counties, he could have ridden a swift horse +through the night, reached home and returned the next day without his +knowing it. It was possible, but not probable. He wouldn't believe it until +he had to. + +If he had married in haste the morning he had left town and had only +rejoined Helen to-night, it was no marriage. It was a ceremony that had no +meaning. In law it was void and could be annulled immediately. But if he +were really married in all that word means--his mind stopped short and +refused to go on. + +He would cross that bridge when he came to it. But he must find out at once +and he must know before he saw Tom again. + +His brain responded with its old vigor under the pressure of the new +crisis. One by one his powers returned and his mind was deep in its tragic +problem when Andy entered the room with a tray on which stood a decanter of +whiskey, a glass of water and two small empty glasses. + +The negro extended the tray. Norton was staring into space and paid no +attention. + +Andy took one of the empty glasses and clicked it against the other. There +was still no sign of recognition until he pushed the tray against Norton's +arm and cleared his throat: + +"Ahem! Ahem!" + +The dazed man turned slowly and looked at the tray and then at the grinning +negro: + +"What's this?" + +Andy's face kindled with enthusiasm: + +"Dat is moonshine, sah--de purest mountain dew--yassah!" + +"Whiskey?" + +"Yassah," was the astonished reply, "de whiskey you jis ring fer, sah!" + +"Take it back!" + +Andy could not believe his ears. The major was certainly in a queer mood. +Was he losing his mind? + +There was nothing to do but obey. He bowed and turned away: + +"Yassah." + +Norton watched him with a dazed look and cried suddenly: + +"Where are you going?" + +"Back!" + +"Stop!" + +Andy stopped with a sudden jerk: + +"Yassah!" + +"Put that tray down on the table!" + +The negro obeyed but watched his master out of the corners of his eye: + +"Yassah!" + +Again Norton forgot Andy's existence, his eyes fixed in space, his mind in +a whirl of speculation in which he felt his soul and body sinking deeper. +The negro was watching him with increasing suspicion and fear as he turned +his head in the direction of the table. + +"What are you standing there for?" he asked sharply. + +"You say stop, sah." + +"Well, get away--get out!" Norton cried with sudden anger. + +Andy backed rapidly: + +"Yassah!" + +As he reached the doorway Norton's command rang so sharply that the negro +spun around on one foot: + +"Wait!" + +"Y--yas--sah!" + +The master took a step toward the trembling figure with an imperious +gesture: + +"Come here!" + +Andy approached gingerly, glancing from side to side for the best way of +retreat in case of emergency: + +"What's the matter with you?" Norton demanded. + +Andy laughed feebly: + +"I--I--I dunno, sah; I wuz des wonderin' what's de matter wid you, sah!" + +"Tell me!" + +The negro's teeth were chattering as he glanced up: + +"Yassah! I tell all I know, sah!" + +Norton fixed him with a stern look: + +"Has Tom been back here during the past four weeks?" + +"Nasah!" was the surprised answer, "he bin wid you, sah!" + +The voice softened to persuasive tones: + +"He hasn't slipped back here even for an hour since I've been gone?" + +"I nebber seed him!" + +"I didn't ask you," Norton said threateningly, "whether you'd 'seed' +him"--he paused and dropped each word with deliberate emphasis--"I asked +you if you knew whether he'd been here?" + +Andy mopped his brow and glanced at his inquisitor with terror: + +"Nasah, I don't know nuttin', sah!" + +"Haven't you lied to me?" + +"Yassah! yassah," the negro replied in friendly conciliation. "I has +per-var-i-cated sometimes--but I sho is tellin' you de truf dis time, sah!" + +The master glared at him a moment and suddenly sprang at his throat, both +hands clasping his neck with a strangling grip. Andy dropped spluttering +to his knees. + +"You're lying to me!" Norton growled. "Out with the truth now"--his grip +tightened--"out with it, or I'll choke it out of you!" + +Andy grasped the tightening fingers and drew them down: + +"Fer Gawd's sake, major, doan' do dat!" + +"Has Tom been back here during the past weeks to see Miss Helen?" + +Andy struggled with the desperate fingers: + +"Doan' do dat, major--doan' do dat! I ain't holdin' nuttin' back--I let it +all out, sah!" + +The grip slackened: + +"Then out with the whole truth!" + +"Yassah. Des tell me what ye wants me ter say, sah, an' I sho say hit!" + +"Bah! You miserable liar!" Norton cried in disgust, hurling him to the +floor, and striding angrily from the room. "You're all in this thing, all +of you! You're all in it--all in it!" + +Andy scrambled to his feet and rushed to the window in time to see him +hurry down the steps and disappear in the shadows of the lawn. He stood +watching with open mouth and staring eyes: + +"Well, 'fore de Lawd, ef he ain't done gone plum crazy!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +BETWEEN TWO FIRES + + +So intent was Andy's watch on the lawn, so rapt his wonder and terror at +the sudden assault, he failed to hear Cleo's step as she entered the room, +walked to his side and laid her hand on his shoulder: + +"Andy----" + +With a loud groan he dropped to his knees: + +"De Lawd save me!" + +Cleo drew back with amazement at the prostrate figure: + +"What on earth's the matter?" + +"Oh--oh, Lawd," he shivered, scrambling to his feet and mopping his brow. +"Lordy, I thought de major got me dat time sho!" + +"You thought the major had you?" Cleo cried incredulously. + +Andy ran back to the window and looked out again: + +"Yassam--yassam! De major try ter kill me--he's er regular maniacker--gone +wild----" + +"What about?" + +The black hands went to his throat: + +"Bout my windpipes, 'pears like!" + +"What did he do?" + +"Got me in de _gills_!" + +"Why?" + +"Dunno," was the whispered answer as he peered out the window. "He asked me +if Mr. Tom been back here in de past fo' weeks----" + +"Asked if Tom had been back here?" + +"Yassam!" + +"What a fool question, when he's had the boy with him every day! He must +have gone crazy." + +"Yassam!" Andy agreed with unction as he turned back into the room and +threw both hands high above his head in wild gestures. "He say we wuz all +in it! Dat what he say--we wuz all in it! _All_ in it!" + +"In what?" + +"Gawd knows!" he cried, as his hands again went to his neck to feel if +anything were broken, "Gawd knows, but he sho wuz gittin' inside er me!" + +Cleo spoke with stern appeal: + +"Well, you're a man; you'll know how to defend yourself next time, won't +you?" + +"Yassam!--yas, m'am!" Andy answered boldly. "Oh, I fit 'im! Don't you think +I didn't fight him! I fit des lak er wild-cat--yassam!" + +The woman's eyes narrowed and her voice purred: + +"You're going to stand by me now?" + +"Dat I is!" was the brave response. + +"You'll do anything for me?" + +"Yassam!" + +"Defend me with your life if the major attacks me to-night?" + +"Dat I will!" + +Cleo leaned close: + +"You'll die for me?" + +"Yassam! yassam--I'll _die_ fer you--I'll die fer ye; of cose I'll _die_ +for ye! B-b-but fer Gawd's sake what ye want wid er dead nigger?" + +Andy leaped back in terror as Norton's tall figure suddenly appeared in the +door, his rumpled iron-gray hair gleaming in the shadows, his eyes flashing +with an unnatural light. He quickly crossed the room and lifted his index +finger toward Cleo: + +"Just a word with you----" + +The woman's hands met nervously, and she glanced at Andy: + +"Very well, but I want a witness. Andy can stay." + +Norton merely glanced at the negro: + +"Get out!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Stay where you are!" Cleo commanded. + +"Y--yassam"--Andy stammered, halting. + +"Get out!" Norton growled. + +Andy jumped into the doorway at a single bound: + +"Done out, sah!" + +The major lifted his hand and the negro stopped: + +"Tell Minerva I want to see her." + +Andy hastened toward the hall, the whites of his eyes shining: + +"Yassah, but she ain't in de kitchen, sah!" + +"Find her and bring her here!" Norton thundered. His words rang like the +sudden peal of a gun at close quarters: + +Andy jumped: + +"Yassah, yassah, I fetch her! I fetch her!" As he flew through the door he +repeated humbly: + +"I fetch her, right away, sah--right away, sah!" + +Cleo watched his cowardly desertion with lips curled in scorn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +A SURPRISE + + +For a while Norton stood with folded arms gazing at Cleo, his eyes +smouldering fires of wonder and loathing. The woman was trembling beneath +his fierce scrutiny, but he evidently had not noted the fact. His mind was +busy with a bigger problem of character and the possible depths to which a +human being might fall and still retain the human form. He was wondering +how a man of his birth and breeding, the heir to centuries of culture and +refinement, of high thinking and noble aspirations, could ever have sunk to +the level of this yellow animal--this bundle of rags and coarse flesh! It +was incredible! His loathing for her was surpassed by one thing only--his +hatred of himself. + +He was free in this moment as never before. In the fearlessness of death +soul and body stood erect and gazed calmly out on time and eternity. + +There was one thing about the woman he couldn't understand. That she was +without moral scruple--that she was absolutely unmoral in her fundamental +being--he could easily believe. In fact, he could believe nothing else. +That she would not hesitate to defy every law of God or man to gain her +end, he never doubted for a moment. But that a creature of her cunning and +trained intelligence could deliberately destroy herself by such an act of +mad revenge was unreasonable. He began dimly to suspect that her plans had +gone awry. How completely she had been crushed by her own trap he could not +yet guess. + +She was struggling frantically now to regain her composure but his sullen +silence and his piercing eyes were telling on her nerves. She was on the +verge of screaming in his face when he said in low, intense tones: + +"You did get even with me--didn't you?" + +"Yes!" + +"I didn't think _you_ quite capable of this!" + +His words were easier to bear than silence. She felt an instant relief and +pulled herself together with a touch of bravado: + +"And now that you see I am, what are you going to do about it?" + +"That's my secret," was the quiet reply. "There's just one thing that +puzzles me!" + +"Indeed!" + +"How you could willfully and deliberately do this beastly thing?" + +"For one reason only, I threw them together and brought about their love +affair----" + +"Revenge--yes," Norton interrupted, "but the boy--you don't hate him--you +can't. You've always loved him as if he were your own----" + +"Well, what of it?" + +"I'm wondering----" + +"What?" + +His voice was low, vibrant but quiet: + +"Why, if your mother instincts have always been so powerful and you've +loved my boy with such devotion"--the tones quickened to sudden +menace--"why you were so willing to give up your own child that day twenty +years ago?" + +He held her gaze until her own fell: + +"I--I--don't understand you," she said falteringly. + +He seized her with violence and drew her squarely before him: + +"Look at me!" he cried fiercely. "Look me in the face!" He paused until she +slowly lifted her eyes to his and finally glared at him with hate. "I want +to see your soul now if you've got one. There's just one chance and I'm +clutching at that as a drowning man a straw." + +"Well?" she asked defiantly. + +Norton's words were hurled at her, each one a solid shot: + +"Would you have given up that child without a struggle--if she had really +been your own?" + +"Why--what--do you--mean?" Cleo asked, her eyes shifting. + +"You know what I mean. If Helen is really your child, why did you give her +up so easily that day?" + +"Why?" she repeated blankly. + +"Answer my question!" + +With an effort she recovered her composure: + +"You know why! I was mad. I was a miserable fool. I did it because you +asked it. I did it to please you, and I've cursed myself for it ever +since." + +Norton's grip slowly relaxed, and he turned thoughtfully away. The woman's +hand went instinctively to the bruises he had left on her arms as she +stepped back nearer the door and watched him furtively. + +"It's possible, yes!" he cried turning again to face her suddenly. "And yet +if you are human how could you dare defy the laws of man and God to bring +about this marriage?" + +"It's not a question of marriage yet," she sneered. "You've simply got to +acknowledge her, that's all. That's why I brought her here. That's why I've +helped their love affair. You're in my power now. You've got to tell Tom +that Helen is my daughter, and yours--his half sister! Now that they're in +love with one another you've got to do it!" + +Norton drew back in amazement: + +"You mean to tell me that you don't know that they are married?" + +With a cry of surprise and terror, the woman leaped to his side, her voice +a whisper: + +"Married? Who says they are married?" + +"Tom has just said so." + +"But they are not married!" she cried hysterically. "They can't marry!" + +Norton fixed her with a keen look: + +"They _are_ married!" + +The woman wrung her hands nervously: + +"But you can separate them if you tell them the truth. That's all you've +got to do. Tell them now--tell them at once!" + +Never losing the gaze with which he was piercing her soul Norton said in +slow menacing tones: + +"There's another way!" + +He turned from her suddenly and walked toward the desk. She followed a +step, trembling. + +"Another way"--she repeated. + +Norton turned: + +"An old way brave men have always known--I'll take it if I must!" + +Chilled with fear Cleo glanced in a panic about the room and spoke feebly: + +"You--you--don't mean----" + +Minerva and Andy entered cautiously as Norton answered: + +"No matter what I mean, it's enough for you to know that I'm free--free +from you--I breathe clean air at last!" + +Minerva shot Cleo a look: + +"Praise God!" + +Cleo extended a hand in pleading: + +"Major----" + +"That will do now!" he said sternly. "Go!" + +Cleo turned hurriedly to the door leading toward the stairs. + +"Not that way!" Norton called sharply. "Tom has no further need of your +advice. Go to the servants' quarters and stay there. I am the master of +this house to-night!" + +Cleo slowly crossed the room and left through the door leading to the +kitchen, watching Norton with terror. Minerva broke into a loud laugh and +Andy took refuge behind her ample form. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +VIA DOLOROSA + + +Minerva was still laughing at the collapse of her enemy and Andy sheltering +himself behind her when a sharp call cut her laughter short: + +"Minerva!" + +"Yassah"--she answered soberly. + +"You have been a faithful servant to me," Norton began, "you have never +lied----" + +"An' I ain't gwine ter begin now, sah." + +He searched her black face keenly: + +"Did Tom slip back here to see Miss Helen while I was away on this last +trip?" + +Minerva looked at Andy, fumbled with her apron, started to speak, hesitated +and finally admitted feebly: + +"Yassah!" + +Andy's eyes fairly bulged: + +"De Lordy, major, I didn't know dat, sah!" + +Norton glanced at him: + +"Shut up!" + +"You ain't gwine ter be hard on 'em, major?" Minerva pleaded. + +He ignored her interruption and went on evenly: + +"How many times did he come?" + +"Twice, sah." + +"He sho come in de night time den!" Andy broke in. "I nebber seed 'im +once!" + +Norton bent close: + +"How long did he stay?" + +Minerva fidgeted, hesitated again and finally said: + +"Once he stay about er hour----" + +"And the other time?" + +She looked in vain for a way of escape, the perspiration standing in beads +on her shining black face: + +"He stay all night, sah." + +A moment of stillness followed. Norton's eyes closed, and his face became a +white mask. He breathed deeply and then spoke quietly: + +"You--you knew they were married?" + +"Yassah!" was the quick reply. "I seed 'em married. Miss Helen axed me, +sah." + +Andy lifted his hands in solemn surprise and walled his eyes at Minerva: + +"Well, 'fore Gawd!" + +Another moment of silence and Andy's mouth was still open with wonder when +a call like the crack of a revolver suddenly rang through the room: + +"Andy!" + +The negro dropped to his knees and lifted his hands: + +"Don't do nuttin' ter me, sah! 'Fore de Lawd, major, I 'clare I nebber +knowed it! Dey fool me, sah--I'd a tole you sho!" + +Norton frowned: + +"Shut your mouth and get up." + +"Yassah!" Andy cried. "Hit's shet an' I'se up!" + +He scrambled to his feet and watched his master. + +"You and Minerva go down that back stairway into the basement, fasten the +windows and lock the doors." + +Andy's eyes were two white moons in the shadows as he cried through +chattering teeth: + +"G--g--odder mighty--what--what's de matter, major?" + +"Do as I tell you, quick!" + +Andy dodged and leaped toward the door: + +"R--right away, sah!" + +"Pay no attention to anything Mr. Tom may say to you----" + +"Nasah," Andy gasped. "I pay no 'tension ter nobody, sah!" + +"When you've fastened everything below, do the same on this floor and come +back here--I want you." + +"Y-y-yas--sah! R-r-r-right a-way, sah!" + +Andy backed out, beckoning frantically to Minerva. She ignored him and +watched Norton as he turned toward a window and looked vaguely out. As Andy +continued his frantic calls she slipped to the doorway and whispered: + +"G'long! I be dar in er minute. You po' fool, you can't talk nohow. You're +skeered er de major. I'm gwine do my duty now, I'm gwine ter tell him +sumfin' quick----" + +Norton wheeled on her with sudden fury: + +"Do as I tell you! Do as I tell you!" + +Minerva dodged at each explosion, backing away. She paused and extended her +hand pleadingly: + +"Can't I put in des one little word, sah?" + +"Not another word!" he thundered, advancing on her--"Go!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Go! I tell you!" + +Dodging again, she hurried below to join Andy. Norton turned back into the +room and stood staring at something that gleamed with sinister brightness +from the top of the little writing desk. An electric lamp with crimson +shade seemed to focus every ray of light on the shining steel and a devil +in the shadows pointed a single finger and laughed: + +"It's ready--just where you laid it!" + +He took a step toward the desk, stopped and gripped the back of the settee, +steadied himself, and glared at the thing with fascination. He walked +unsteadily to the chair in front of the desk and stared again. His hand +moved to grasp the revolver and hesitated. And then, the last thought of +pity strangled, he gripped the handle, lifted it with quick familiar touch, +grasped the top clasp, loosed the barrel, threw the cylinder open and +examined the shells, dropped them into his hand and saw that there were no +blanks. One by one he slowly replaced them, snapped the cylinder in place +and put the weapon in his pocket. + +He glanced about the room furtively, walked to each of the tall French +windows, closed the shutters and carefully drew the heavy draperies. He +turned the switch of the electric lights, extinguishing all in the room +save the small red one burning on the desk. He would need that in a moment. + +He walked softly to the foot of the stairs and called: + +"Tom!" + +Waiting and receiving no answer he called again: + +"Tom! Tom!" + +A door opened above and the boy answered: + +"Well?" + +"Just a word, my son," the gentle voice called. + +"I've nothing to say, sir! We're packing our trunks to leave at once." + +"Yes, yes, I understand," the father answered tenderly. "You're going, of +course, and it can't be helped--but just a minute, my son; we must say +good-by in a decent way, you know--and--I've something to show you before +you go"--the voice broke--"you--won't try to leave without seeing me?" + +There was a short silence and the answer came in friendly tones: + +"I'll see you. I'll be down in a few minutes." + +The father murmured: + +"Thank God!" + +He hurried back to the library, unlocked a tiny drawer in the desk, drew +out a plain envelope from which he took the piece of paper on which was +scrawled the last message from the boy's mother. His hand trembled as he +read and slowly placed it in a small pigeon-hole. + +He took his pen and began to write rapidly on a pad of legal cap paper. + +While he was still busy with his writing, in obedience to his orders, Andy +and Minerva returned. They stopped at the doorway and peeped in cautiously +before entering. Astonished and terrified to find the room so dimly lighted +they held a whispered conference in the hall: + +"Better not go in dar, chile!" Andy warned. + +"Ah, come on, you fool!" Minerva insisted. "He ain't gwine ter hurt us!" + +"I tell ye he's wild--he's gone crazy, sho's yer born! I kin feel dem +fingers playin' on my windpipe now!" + +"What's he doin' dar at dat desk?" Minerva asked. + +"He's writin' good-by ter dis world, I'm tellin' ye, an' hit's time me an' +you wuz makin' tracks!" + +"Ah, come on!" the woman urged. + +Andy hung back and shook his head: + +"Nasah--I done bin in dar an' got my dose!" + +"You slip up behin' him an' see what he's writin'," Minerva suggested. + +"Na, you slip up!" + +"You're de littlest an' makes less fuss," she argued. + +"Yes, but you'se de biggest an' you las' de longest in er scrimmage----" + +"Ah, go on!" she commanded, getting behind Andy and suddenly pushing him +into the room. + +He rushed back into her arms, but she pushed him firmly on: + +"G'long, I tell ye, fool, an' see what he's doin'. I back ye up." + +Andy balked and she pressed him another step: + +"G'long!" + +He motioned her to come closer, whispering: + +"Ef yer gwine ter stan' by me, for de Lawd's sake stan' by me--don't stan' +by de do'!" + +Seeing that retreat was cut off and he was in for it, the negro picked his +way cautiously on tip-toe until he leaned over the chair and tried to read +what his master was writing. + +Norton looked up suddenly: + +"Andy!" + +He jumped in terror: + +"I--I--didn't see nuttin', major! Nasah! I nebber seed a thing, sah!" + +Norton calmly lifted his head and looked into the black face that had been +his companion so many years: + +"I want you to see it!" + +"Oh!" Andy cried with surprised relief, "you wants me to see hit"--he +glanced at Minerva and motioned her to come nearer. "Well, dat's different, +sah. Yer know I wouldn't er tried ter steal er glimpse of it ef I'd knowed +ye wuz gwine ter show it ter me. I allers is er gemman, sah!" + +Norton handed him the paper: + +"I taught you to read and write, Andy. You can do me a little service +to-night--read that!" + +"Yassah--yassah," he answered, pompously, adjusting his coat and vest. He +held the paper up before him, struck it lightly with the back of his hand +and cleared his throat: + +"Me an' you has bin writin' fer de newspapers now 'bout fifteen +years--yassah"--he paused and hurriedly read the document. "Dis yo' will, +sah? An' de Lawd er mussy, 'tain't more'n ten lines. An' dey hain't nary +one er dem whereases an' haremditaments aforesaids, like de lawyers puts in +dem in de Cote House--hit's des plain writin"--he paused again--"ye gives +de house, an' ten thousand dollars ter Miss Helen an' all yer got ter de +Columnerzation Society ter move de niggers ter er place er dey own!"--he +paused again and walled his eyes at Minerva. "What gwine come er Mr. Tom?" + +Norton's head sank: + +"He'll be rich without this! Sign your name here as a witness," he said +shortly, picking up the pen. + +Andy took the pen, rolled up his sleeve carefully, bent over the desk, +paused and scratched his head: + +"Don't yer think, major, dat's er terrible pile er money ter fling loose +'mongst er lot er niggers?" + +Norton's eyes were dreaming again and Andy went on insinuatingly: "Now, +wouldn't hit be better, sah, des ter pick out one good _reliable_ nigger +dat yer knows pussonally--an' move him?" + +Norton looked up impatiently: + +"Sign it!" + +"Yassah! Cose, sah, you knows bes', sah, but 'pears ter me lak er powerful +waste er good money des flingin' it broadcast!" + +Norton lifted his finger warningly and Andy hastened to sign his name with +a flourish of the pen. He looked at it admiringly: + +"Dar now! Dey sho know dat's me! I practise on dat quereque two whole +mont's----" + +Norton folded the will, placed it in an envelope, addressed it and lifted +his drawn face: + +"Tell the Clerk of the Court that I executed this will to-night and placed +it in this desk"--his voice became inaudible a moment and went on--"Ask him +to call for it to-morrow and record it for me." + +Minerva, who had been listening and watching with the keenest interest, +pressed forward and asked in a whisper: + +"Yassah, but whar's you gwine ter be? You sho ain't gwine ter die +ter-night?" + +Norton quietly recovered himself and replied angrily: + +"Do I look as if I were dying?" + +"Nasah!--But ain't dey no way dat I kin help ye, major? De young folks is +gwine ter leave, sah----" + +"They are not going until I'm ready!" was the grim answer. + +"Nasah, but dey's gwine," the black woman replied tenderly. "Ye can't stop +'em long. Lemme plead fur 'em, sah! You wuz young an' wild once, +major"--the silvery gray head sank low and the white lips quivered--"you +take all yer money frum Mister Tom--what he care fer dat now wid love +singin' in his heart? Young folks is young folks----" + +Norton lifted his head and stared as in a dream. + +"Won't ye hear me, sah? Can't I go upstairs an' speak de good word ter +Mister Tom now an' tell him hit's all right?" + +A sudden idea flashed into Norton's mind. + +The ruse would be the surest and quickest way to get Tom into the room +alone. + +"Yes, yes," he answered, glancing at her. "You can say that to him now----" + +Minerva laughed: + +"I kin go right up dar to his room now an' tell 'im dat you're er waitin' +here wid yer arms open an' yer heart full er love an' fergiveness?" + +"Yes, go at once"--he paused--"and keep Miss Helen there a few minutes. I +want to see him first--you understand----" + +"Yassah! yassah!" Minerva cried, hastening to the door followed by Andy. "I +understands, I understands"--she turned on Andy. "Ye hear dat, you fool +nigger? Ain't I done tole you dat hit would all come out right ef I could +des say de good word? Gloree! We gwine ter hab dat weddin' all over agin! +You des wait till yer seen dat cake I gwine ter bake----" + +With a quick turn she was about to pass through the door when Andy caught +her sleeve: + +"Miss Minerva!" + +"Yas, honey!" + +"Miss Minerva," he repeated, nervously glancing at Norton, "fer Gawd's +sake don't you leave me now! You'se de only restful pusson in dis house!" + +With a triumphant laugh Minerva whispered: + +"I'll be right back in a minute, honey!" + +Norton had watched with apparent carelessness until Minerva had gone. He +sprang quickly to his feet, crossed the room and spoke in an excited +whisper: + +"Andy!" + +"Yassah!" + +"Go down to that front gate and stay there. Turn back anybody who tries to +come in. Don't you allow a soul to enter the lawn." + +"I'll do de best I kin, sah," he replied hastening toward the door. + +Norton took an angry step toward him: + +"You do exactly as I tell you, sir!" + +Andy jumped and replied quickly: + +"Yassah, but ef dem serenaders come back here you know dey ain't gwine pay +no 'tensun ter no nigger talkin' to 'em--dat's what dey er celebratin' +erbout----" + +Norton frowned and was silent a moment: + +"Say that I ask them not to come in." + +"I'll tell 'em, sah, but I spec I'll hatter climb er tree 'fore I explains +hit to 'em--but I tell 'em, sah--yassah." + +As Andy slowly backed out, Norton said sternly: + +"I'll call you when I want you. Stay until I do!" + +"Yassah," Andy breathed softly as he disappeared trembling and wondering. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE DREGS IN THE CUP + + +Norton walked quickly to the window, drew back the draperies, opened the +casement and looked out to see if Andy were eavesdropping. He watched the +lazy figure cross the lawn, glancing back at the house. The full moon, at +its zenith, was shining in a quiet glory, uncanny in its dazzling +brilliance. + +He stood drinking in for the last time the perfumed sweetness and languor +of the Southern night. His senses seemed supernaturally acute. He could +distinctly note the odors of the different flowers that were in bloom on +the lawn. A gentle breeze was blowing from the path across the old rose +garden. The faint, sweet odor of the little white carnations his mother had +planted along the walks stole over his aching soul and he was a child again +watching her delicate hands plant them, while grumbling slaves protested at +the soiling of her fingers. She was looking up with a smile saying: + +"I love to plant them. I feel that they are my children then, and I'm +making the world sweet and beautiful through them!" + +Had he made the world sweeter and more beautiful? + +He asked himself the question sternly. + +"God knows I've tried for twenty years--and it has come to this!" + +The breeze softened, the odor of the pinks grew; fainter and the strange +penetrating smell of the hedge of tuberoses swept in from the other +direction with the chill of Death in its breath. + +His heart rose in rebellion. It was too horrible, such an end of life! He +was scarcely forty-nine years old. Never had the blood pulsed through his +veins with stronger throb and never had his vision of life seemed clearer +and stronger than to-day when he had faced those thousands of cheering men +and hinted for the first time his greater plans for uplifting the Nation's +life. + +The sense of utter loneliness overwhelmed his soul. The nearest being in +the universe whose presence he could feel was the dead wife and mother. + +His eye rested on the portrait tenderly: + +"We're coming, dearest, to-night!" + +For the first time his spirit faced the mystery of eternity at close range. +He had long speculated in theories of immortality and brooded over the +problem of the world that lies but a moment beyond the senses. + +He had clasped hands with Death now and stood face to face, calm and +unafraid. His mind quickened with the thought of the strange world into +which he would be ushered within an hour. Would he know and understand? Or +would the waves of oblivion roll over the prostrate body without a sign? It +couldn't be! The hunger of immortality was too keen for doubt. He would see +and know! The cry rose triumphant within. He refused to perish with the +moth and worm. The baser parts of his being might die--the nobler must +live. There could be no other meaning to this sublimely cruel and mad +decision to kill the body rather than see it dishonored. His eye caught +the twinkle of a star through the branches of a tree-top. His feet would +find the pathway among those shining worlds! There could be no other +meaning to the big thing that throbbed and ached within and refused to be +content to whelp and stable here as a beast of the field. Pride, Honor, +Aspiration, Prayer, meant this or nothing! + +"I've made blunders here," he cried, "but I'm searching for the light and +I'll find the face of God!" + +The distant shouts of cheering hosts still celebrating in the Square +brought his mind to earth with a sickening shock. He closed the windows, +and drew the curtains. His hands clutched the velvet hangings in a moment +of physical weakness and he steadied himself before turning to call Tom. + +Recovering his composure in a measure, his hand touched the revolver in his +pocket, the tall figure instinctively straightened and he walked rapidly +toward the hall. He had barely passed the centre of the room when the boy's +voice distinctly echoed from the head of the stairs: + +"I'll be back in a minute, dear!" + +He heard the door of Helen's room close softly and the firm step descend +the stairs. The library door opened and closed quickly, and Tom stood +before him, his proud young head lifted and his shoulders squared. The +dignity and reserve of conscious manhood shone in every line of his +stalwart body and spoke in every movement of face and form. + +"Well, sir," he said quietly. "It's done now and it can't be helped, you +know." + +Norton was stunned by the sudden appearance of the dear familiar form. His +eyes were dim with unshed tears. It was too hideous, this awful thing he +had to do! He stared at him piteously and with an effort walked to his +side, speaking in faltering tones that choked between the words: + +"Yes, it's done now--and it can't be helped"--he strangled and couldn't go +on--"I--I--have realized that, my son--but I--I have an old letter from +your mother--that I wanted to show you before you go--you'll find it on the +desk there." + +He pointed to the desk on which burned the only light in the room. + +The boy hesitated, pained by the signs of deep anguish in his father's +face, turned and rapidly crossed the room. + +The moment his back was turned, Norton swiftly and silently locked the +door, and with studied carelessness followed. + +The boy began to search for the letter: + +"I don't see it, sir." + +The father, watching him with feverish eyes, started at his voice, raised +his hand to his forehead and walked quickly to his side: + +"Yes, I--I--forgot--I put it away!" + +He dropped limply into the chair before the desk, fumbled among the papers +and drew the letter from the pigeon-hole in which he had placed it. + +He held it in his hand, shaking now like a leaf, and read again the scrawl +that he had blurred with tears and kisses. He placed his hand on the top of +the desk, rose with difficulty and looked for Tom. The boy had moved +quietly toward the table. The act was painfully significant of their new +relations. The sense of alienation cut the broken man to the quick. He +could scarcely see as he felt his way to the boy's side and extended the +open sheet of paper without a word. + +Tom took the letter, turned his back on his father and read it in silence. + +"How queer her handwriting!" he said at length. + +Norton spoke in strained muffled tones: + +"Yes--she--she was dying when she scrawled that. The mists of the other +world were gathering about her. I don't think she could see the paper"--the +voice broke, he fought for self-control and then went on--"but every tiny +slip of her pencil, each little weak hesitating mark etched itself in fire +on my heart"--the voice stopped and then went on--"you can read them?" + +"Yes." + +The father's long trembling finger traced slowly each word: + +"'Remember that I love you and have forgiven----'" + +"Forgiven what?" Tom interrupted. + +Norton turned deadly pale, recovered himself and began in a low voice: + +"You see, boy, I grew up under the old regime. Like a lot of other fellows +with whom I ran, I drank, gambled and played the devil--you know what that +meant in those days----" + +"No, I don't," the boy interrupted. "That's just what I don't know. I +belong to a new generation. And you've made a sort of exception of me even +among the men of to-day. You taught me to keep away from women. I learned +the lesson. I formed clean habits, and so I don't know just what you mean +by that. Tell me plainly." + +"It's hard to say it to you, my boy!" the older man faltered. + +"I want to know it." + +"I--I mean that twenty years ago it was more common than now for youngsters +to get mixed up with girls of negroid blood----" + +The boy shrank back: + +"You!--great God!" + +"Yes, she came into my life at last--a sensuous young animal with wide, +bold eyes that knew everything and was not afraid. That sentence means the +shame from which I've guarded you with such infinite care----" + +He paused and pointed again to the letter, tracing its words: + +"'Rear our boy free from the curse!'--you--you--see why I have been so +desperately in earnest?"--Norton bent close with pleading eagerness: "And +that next sentence, there, you can read it? 'I had rather a thousand times +that he should die than this--My brooding spirit will watch and guard'"--he +paused and repeated--"'that he should die'--you--you--see that?" + +The boy looked at his father's trembling hand and into his glittering eyes +with a start: + +"Yes, yes, but, of course, that was only a moment's despair--no mother +could mean such a thing." + +Norton's eyes fell, he moved uneasily, tried to speak again and was silent. +When he began his words were scarcely audible: + +"We must part now in tenderness, my boy, as father and son--we--we--must do +that you know. You--you forgive me for striking you to-night?" + +Tom turned away, struggled and finally answered: + +"No." + +The father followed eagerly: + +"Tell me that it's all right!" + +The boy's hand nervously fumbled at the cloth on the table: + +"I--I--am glad I didn't do something worse!" + +"Say that you forgive me! Why is it so hard?" + +Tom turned his back: + +"I don't know, Dad, I try, but--I--just can't!" + +The father's hand touched the boy's arm timidly: + +"You can never understand, my son, how my whole life has been bound up in +you! For years I've lived, worked, and dreamed and planned for you alone. +In your young manhood I've seen all I once hoped to be and have never been. +In your love I've found the healing of a broken heart. Many a night I've +gone out there alone in that old cemetery, knelt beside your mother's grave +and prayed her spirit to guide me that I might at least lead your little +feet aright----" + +The boy moved slightly and the father's hand slipped limply from his, he +staggered back with a cry of despair, and fell prostrate on the lounge: + +"I can endure anything on this earth but your hate, my boy! I can't endure +that--I can't--even for a moment!" + +His form shook with incontrollable grief as he lay with his face buried in +his outstretched arms. + +The boy struggled with conflicting pride and love, looked at the scrawled, +tear-stained letter he still held in his hand and then at the bowed figure, +hesitated a moment, and rushed to his father's side, knelt and slipped his +arm around the trembling figure: + +"It's all right, Dad! I'll not remember--a single tear from your eyes blots +it all out!" + +The father's hand felt blindly for the boy's and grasped it desperately: + +"You won't remember a single harsh word that I've said?" + +"No--no--it's all right," was the soothing answer, as he returned the +pressure. + +Norton looked at him long and tenderly: + +"How you remind me of _her_ to-night! The deep blue of your eyes, the +trembling of your lips when moved, your little tricks of speech, the tear +that quivers on your lash and never falls and the soul that's mirrored +there"--he paused and stroked the boy's head--"and her hair, the beaten +gold of honeycomb!" + +His head sank and he was silent. + +The boy again pressed his hand tenderly and rose, drawing his father to his +feet: + +"I'm sorry to have hurt you, Dad. I'm sorry that we have to go--good-by!" + +He turned and slowly moved toward the door. Norton slipped his right hand +quickly to the revolver, hesitated, his fingers relaxed and the deadly +thing dropped back into his pocket as he sank to his seat with a groan: + +"Wait! Wait, Tom!" + +The boy stopped. + +"I--I've got to tell it to you now!" he went on hoarsely. "I--I tried to +save you this horror--but I couldn't--the way was too hard and cruel." + +Tom took a step and looked up in surprise: + +"The way--what way?" + +"I couldn't do it," the father cried. "I just couldn't--and so I have to +tell you." + +The boy spoke with sharp eagerness: + +"Tell me what?" + +"Now that I know you are married in all that word means and I have failed +to save you from it--I must give you the proofs that you demand. I must +prove to you that Helen _is_ a negress----" + +A sudden terror crept into the young eyes: + +"You--you have the proofs?" + +"Yes!" the father nodded, placing his hand on his throat and fighting for +breath. He took a step toward the boy, and whispered: + +"Cleo--is--her mother!" + +Tom flinched as if struck a blow. The red blood rushed to his head and he +blanched with a death-like pallor: + +"And you have been afraid of Cleo?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +The father's head was slowly lowered and his hands moved in the slightest +gesture of dumb confession. + +A half-articulate, maniac cry and the boy grasped him with trembling hands, +screaming in his face: + +"God in Heaven, let me keep my reason for just a +moment!--So--you--are--Helen's----" + +The bowed head sank lower. + +"Father!" + +Tom reeled, and fell into a chair with a groan: + +"Lord have mercy on my lost soul!" + +Norton solemnly lifted his eyes: + +"God's full vengeance has fallen at last! You have married your own----" + +The boy sprang to his feet covering his face: + +"Don't! Don't! Helen doesn't know?" + +"No." + +"She mustn't!" he shivered, looking wildly at his father. "But why, +why--oh, dear God, why didn't you kill me before I knew!" + +He sank back into the chair, his arms outstretched across the table, his +face hidden in voiceless shame. + +The father slowly approached the prostrate figure, bent low and tenderly +placed his cheek against the blonde head, soothing it with trembling touch. +For a long while he remained thus, with no sound breaking the stillness +save the sobs that came from the limp form. + +And then Norton said brokenly: + +"I tried, my boy, to end it for us both without your knowing just now when +your back was turned, but I couldn't. It seemed too cowardly and cruel! I +just couldn't"--he paused, slowly drew the revolver from his pocket and +laid it on the table. + +The boy felt the dull weight of the steel strike the velvet cover and knew +what had been done without lifting his head. + +"Now you know," the father added, "what we both must do." + +Tom rose staring at the thing on the dark red cloth, and lifted his eyes to +his father's. + +"Yes, and hurry! Helen may come at any moment." + +He had barely spoken when the knob of the door turned. A quick knock was +heard at the same instant and Helen's voice rang through the hall: + +"Tom! Tom!" + +Norton grasped the pistol, thrust it under the table-cover and pressed the +boy toward the door: + +"Quick! Open it, at once!" + +Tom stared in a stupor, unable to move until his father shook his arm: + +"Quick--open it--let her in a moment--it's best." + +He opened the door and Helen sprang in breathlessly. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE MILLS OF GOD + + +Norton had dropped into a seat with apparent carelessness, while Tom stood +immovable, his face a mask. + +The girl looked quickly from one to the other, her breath coming in quick +gasps. + +She turned to Tom: + +"Why did you lock the door--what does it mean?" + +Norton hastened to answer, his tones reassuringly simple: + +"Why, only that we wished to be alone for a few moments----" + +"Yes, we understand each other now," Tom added. + +Helen's eyes flashed cautiously from one to the other: + +"I heard a strange noise"--she turned to the boy--"and, oh, Tom, darling, I +was so frightened! I thought I heard a struggle and then everything became +so still. I was wild--I couldn't wait any longer!" + +"Why, it was really nothing," Tom answered her bravely smiling. "We--we did +have a little scene, and lost our temper for a moment, but you can see for +yourself it's all right now. We've thrashed the whole thing out and have +come to a perfect understanding!" + +His words were convincing but not his manner. He hadn't dared to look her +in the face. His eyes were on the rug and his foot moved nervously. + +"You are not deceiving me?" she asked trembling. + +The boy appealed to his father: + +"Haven't we come to a perfect understanding, Dad?" + +Norton rose: + +"Perfect, my son. It's all right, now, Helen." + +"Just wait for me five minutes, dear," Tom pleaded. + +"Can't I hear what you have to say?" + +"We prefer to be alone," the father said gravely. + +Again her eyes flashed from one to the other and rested on Tom. She rushed +to him and laid her hand appealingly on his arm: + +"Oh, Tom, dear, am I not your wife?" the boy's head drooped--"must you have +a secret from me now?" + +"Just a few minutes," Norton pleaded, "that's a good girl!" + +"Only a few minutes, Helen," Tom urged. + +"Please let me stay. Why were you both so pale when I came in?" + +Father and son glanced at each other over her head. Norton hesitated and +said: + +"You see we are perfectly calm now. All bitterness is gone from our hearts. +We are father and son again." + +"Why do you look so queerly at me? Why do you look so strangely at each +other?" + +"It's only your imagination, dear," Tom said. + +"No, there's something wrong," Helen declared desperately. "I feel it in +the air of this room--in the strange silence between you. For God's sake +tell me what it means! Surely, I have the right to know"--she turned +suddenly to Norton--"You don't hate me now, do you, major?" + +The somber brown eyes rested on her in a moment of intense silence and he +slowly said: + +"I have never hated you, my child!" + +"Then what is it?" she cried in anguish, turning again to Tom. "Tell me +what I can do to help you! I'll obey you, dearest, even if it's to lay my +life down. Don't send me away. Don't keep this secret from me. I feel its +chill in my heart. My place is by your side--tell me how I can help you!" + +Tom looked at her intently: + +"You say that you will obey me?" + +"Yes--you are my lord and master!" + +He seized her hand and led her to the door + +"Then wait for me just five minutes." + +She lifted her head pleadingly: + +"You will let me come to you then?" + +"Yes." + +"You won't lock the door again?" + +"Not now." + +While Tom stood immovable, with a lingering look of tenderness she turned +and passed quickly from the room. + +He closed the door softly, steadied himself before loosing the knob and +turned to his father in a burst of sudden rebellion: + +"Oh, Dad! It can't be true! It can't be true! I can't believe it. Did you +look at her closely again?" + +Norton drew himself wearily to his feet and spoke with despairing +certainty: + +"Yes, yes, as I've looked at her a hundred times with growing wonder." + +"She's not like you----" + +"No more than you, my boy, and yet you're bone of my bone and flesh of my +flesh--it can't be helped----" + +He paused and pointed to the revolver: + +"Give it to me!" + +The boy started to lift the cloth and the father caught his arm: + +"But first--before you do," he faltered. "I want you to tell me now with +your own lips that you forgive me for what I must do--and then I think, +perhaps, I can--say it!" + +Their eyes met in a long, tender, searching gaze: + +"I forgive you," he softly murmured. + +"Now give it to me!" the father firmly said, stepping back and lifting his +form erect. + +The boy felt for the table, fumbled at the cloth, caught the weapon and +slowly lifted it toward his father's extended hand. He opened his eyes, +caught the expression of agony in the drawn face, the fingers relaxed and +the pistol fell to the floor. He threw himself blindly on his father, his +arms about his neck: + +"Oh, Dad, it's too hard! Wait--wait--just a moment!" + +The father held him close for a long while. His voice was very low when he +spoke at last: + +"There's no appeal, my boy! The sin of your father is full grown and has +brought forth death. Yet I was not all to blame. We are caught to-night in +the grip of the sins of centuries. I tried to give my life to the people to +save the children of the future. My shame showed me the way as few men +could have seen it, and I have set in motion forces that can never be +stopped. Others will complete the work that I have begun. But our time has +come----" + +"Yes, yes, I understand!" + +The father's arms pressed the son in a last long embrace: + +"What an end to all my hopes! Oh, my boy, heart of my heart!" + +Tom's hand slowly slipped down and caught his father's: + +"Good-by, Dad!" + +Norton held the clasp with lingering tenderness as the boy slowly drew +away, measured four steps and calmly folded his arms, his head erect, his +broad young shoulders squared and thrown far back. + +Cleo, who had crept into the hall, stood behind the curtains of the inner +door watching the scene with blanched face. + +The father walked quickly to the revolver, picked it up, turned and lifted +it above his head. + +With a smothered cry Cleo sprang into the room--but she was too late. +Norton had quickly dropped the pistol to the level of the eye and fired. + +A tiny red spot flamed on the white skin of the boy's forehead, the +straight figure swayed, and pitched forward face down on the rug. + +The woman staggered back, cowering in the shadows. + +The father knelt beside the quivering form, clasped his left hand in Tom's, +placed the revolver to his temple and fired. The silver-gray head sank +slowly against the breast of the boy as a piercing scream from Helen's lips +rang through the silent hall. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +SIN FULL GROWN + + +The sensitive soul of the girl had seen the tragedy before she rushed into +the library. At the first shot she sprang to her feet, her heart in her +throat. The report had sounded queerly through the closed doors and she was +not sure. She had entered the hall, holding her breath, when the second +shot rang out its message of death. + +She was not the woman who faints in an emergency. She paused just a moment +in the door, saw the ghastly heap on the floor and rushed to the spot. + +She tore Tom's collar open and placed her ear over his heart: + +"O God! He's alive--he's alive!" + +She turned and saw Cleo leaning against the table with blanched face and +chattering teeth. + +"Call Andy and Aunt Minerva--and go for the doctor--his heart's +beating--quick--the doctor--he's alive--we may save him!" + +She knelt again on the floor, took Tom's head in her lap, wiped the blood +from the clean, white forehead, pressed her lips to his and sobbed: + +"Come back, my own--it's I--Helen, your little wife--I'm calling you--you +can't die--you're too young and life's too dear. We've only begun to live, +my sweetheart! You shall not die!" + +The tears were raining on his pale face and her cries had become little +wordless prayers when Andy and Minerva entered the room. + +She nodded her head toward Norton's motionless body: + +"Lift him on the lounge!" + +They moved him tenderly: + +"See if his heart's still beating," she commanded. + +Andy reverently lowered his dusky face against the white bosom of his +master. When he lifted it the tears had blinded his eyes: + +"Nobum," he said slowly, "he's done dead!" + +The tick of the little French clock on the mantel beneath the mother's +portrait rang with painful clearness. + +Helen raised her hand to Minerva: + +"Open the windows and let the smoke out. I'll hold him in my arms until the +doctor comes." + +"Yassum----" + +Minerva drew the heavy curtains back from the tall windows, opened the +casements and the perfumed air of the beautiful Southern night swept into +the room. + +A cannon boomed its final cry of victory from the Square and a rocket, +bursting above the tree-tops, flashed a ray of red light on the white face +of the dead. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +CONFESSION + + +When Dr. Williams entered the room Helen was still holding Tom's head in +her lap. + +He had stirred once with a low groan. + +"The major is dead, but Tom's alive, doctor!" she cried through her tears. +"He's going to live, too--I feel it--I know it--tell me that it's so!" + +The lips trembled pitifully with the last words. + +The doctor felt the pulse and was silent. + +"It's all right? He's going to live--isn't he?" she asked pathetically. + +"I can't tell yet, my child," was the calm answer. + +He examined the wound and ran his hand over the blonde hair. His fingers +stopped suddenly and he felt the head carefully. He bent low, parted the +hair and found a damp blood mark three inches above the line of the +forehead. + +"See!" he cried, "the ball came out here. His head was thrown far back, the +bullet struck the inner skull bone at an angle and glanced." + +"What does it mean?" she asked breathlessly. + +The doctor smiled: + +"That the brain is untouched. He is only stunned and in a swoon. He'll be +well in two weeks." + +Helen lifted her eyes and sobbed: + +"O God!" + +She tried to bend and kiss Tom's lips, her body swayed and she fell +backward in a dead faint. + +Andy and Minerva carried her to her room, left Cleo to minister to her and +returned to help the doctor. + +He examined Norton's body to make sure that life was extinct and placed the +body on an improvised bed on the floor until he should regain his senses. + +In half an hour Tom looked into the doctor's face: + +"Why, it's Doctor Williams?" + +"Yes." + +"What--what's happened?" + +"It's only a scratch for you, my boy. You'll be well in a few days----" + +"Well in a few days"--he repeated blankly. "I can't get well! I've got to +die"--his head dropped and he caught his breath. + +The doctor waited for him to recover himself to ask the question that was +on his lips. He had gotten as yet no explanation of the tragedy save Cleo's +statement that the major had shot Tom and killed himself. He had guessed +that the ugly secret in Norton's life was in some way responsible. + +"Why must you die, my boy?" he asked kindly. + +Tom opened his eyes in a wild stare: + +"Helen's my wife--we married secretly without my father knowing it. He has +just told me that Cleo is her mother and I have married my own----" + +His voice broke and his head sank. + +The doctor seized the boy's hand and spoke eagerly: + +"It's a lie, boy! It's a lie! Take my word for it----" + +Tom shook his head. + +"I'll stake my life on it that it's a lie"--the old man repeated--"and I'll +prove it--I'll prove it from Cleo's lips!" + +"You--you--can do it!" the boy said hopelessly, though his eyes flashed +with a new light. + +"Keep still until I return!" the doctor cried, "and I'll bring Cleo with +me." + +He placed the revolver in his pocket and hastily left the room, the boy's +eyes following him with feverish excitement. + +He called Cleo into the hall and closed Helen's door. + +The old man seized her hand with a cruel grip: + +"Do you dare tell me that this girl is your daughter?" + +She trembled and faltered: + +"Yes!" + +"You're a liar!" he hissed. "You may have fooled Norton for twenty years, +but you can't fool me. I've seen too much of this sort of thing. I'll stake +my immortal soul on it that no girl with Helen's pure white skin and +scarlet cheeks, clean-cut features and deep blue eyes can have in her body +a drop of negro blood!" + +"She's mine all the same, and you know when she was born," the woman +persisted. + +He could feel her body trembling, looked at her curiously and said: + +"Come down stairs with me a minute." + +Cleo drew back: + +"I don't want to go in that room again!" + +"You've got to come!" + +He seized her roughly and drew her down the stairs into the library. + +She gripped the door, panting in terror. He loosed her hands and pushed +her inside before the lounge on which the body of Norton lay, the cold +wide-open eyes staring straight into her face. + +She looked a moment in abject horror, shivered and covered her eyes: + +"Oh, my God, let me go!" + +The doctor tore her hands from her face and confronted her. His snow-white +beard and hair, his tense figure and flaming anger seemed to the trembling +woman the image of an avenging fate as he solemnly cried: + +"Here, in the presence of Death, with the all-seeing eye of God as your +witness, and the life of the boy you once held in your arms hanging on your +words, I ask if that girl is your daughter?" + +The greenish eyes wavered, but the answer came clear at last: + +"No----" + +"I knew it!" the doctor cried. "Now the whole truth!" + +The color mounted Tom's cheeks as he listened. + +"My own baby died," she began falteringly, "I was wild with grief and +hunted for another. I found Helen in Norfolk at the house of an old woman +whom I knew, and she gave her to me----" + +"Or you stole her--no matter"--the doctor interrupted--"Go on." + +Helen had slipped down stairs, crept into the room unobserved and stood +listening. + +"Who was the child's mother?" the doctor demanded. + +Cleo was gasping for breath: + +"The daughter of an old fool who had disowned her because she ran away and +married a poor white boy--the husband died--the father never forgave her. +When the baby was born the mother died, too, and I got the child from the +old nurse--she's pure white--there's not a stain of any kind on her birth!" + +With a cry of joy Helen knelt and drew Tom into her arms: + +"Oh, darling, did you hear it--oh, my sweetheart, did you hear it?" + +The boy's head sank on her breast and he breathed softly: + +"Thank God!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +HEALING + + +The years brought their healing to wounded hearts. Tom Norton refused to +leave his old home. He came of a breed of men who had never known how to +quit. He faced the world and with grim determination took up the work for +the Republic which his father had begun. + +With tireless voice his paper pleads for the purity of the race. Its +circulation steadily increases and its influence deepens and widens. + +The patter of a baby's feet again echoes through the wide hall behind the +white fluted columns. The young father and mother have taught his little +hands to place flowers on the two green mounds beneath the oak in the +cemetery. He is not old enough yet to understand, and so the last time they +were there he opened his eyes wide at his mother's tears and lisped: + +"Are 'oo hurt, mama?" + +"No, my dear, I'm happy now." + +"Why do 'oo cry?" + +"For a great man I knew a little while, loved and lost, dearest--your +grandfather for whom we named you." + +Little Dan's eyes grew very serious as he looked again at the flower-strewn +graves and wondered what it all meant. + +But the thing which marks the Norton home with peculiar distinction is that +since the night of his father's death, Tom has never allowed a negro to +cross the threshold or enter its gates. + +THE END + + * * * * * + +NOVELS OF SOUTHERN LIFE + +By THOMAS DIXON, JR. + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS_: A Story of the White Man's Burden, 1865-1900. With +illustrations by C. D. Williams. + +A tale of the South about the dramatic events of Destruction. +Reconstruction and Upbuilding. The work is able and eloquent and the +verifiable events of history are followed closely in the development of a +story full of struggle. + + +_THE CLANSMAN._ With illustrations by Arthur I. Keller. + +While not connected with it in any way, this is a companion volume to the +author's "epoch-making" story _The Leopard's Spots_. It is a novel with a +great deal to it, and which very properly is going to interest many +thousands of readers. * * * It is, first of all, a forceful, dramatic, +absorbing love story, with a sequence of events so surprising that one is +prepared for the fact that much of it is founded on actual happenings; but +Mr. Dixon has, as before, a deeper purpose--he has aimed to show that the +original formers of the Ku Klux Klan were modern knights errant taking the +only means at hand to right intolerable wrongs. + + +_THE TRAITOR._ A Story of the Fall of the Invisible Empire. Illustrations +by C. D. Williams. + +The third and last book in this remarkable trilogy of novels relating to +Southern Reconstruction. It is a thrilling story of love, adventure, +treason, and the United States Secret Service dealing with the decline and +fall of the Ku Klux Klan. + + +_COMRADES._ Illustrations by C. D. Williams. + +A novel dealing with the establishment of a Socialistic Colony upon a +deserted island off the coast of California. The way of disillusionment is +the course over which Mr. Dixon conducts the reader. + + +_THE ONE WOMAN._ A Story of Modern Utopia. + +A love story and character study of three strong men and two fascinating +women. In swift, unified, and dramatic action, we see Socialism a deadly +force, in the hour of the eclipse of Faith, destroying the home life and +weakening the fiber of Anglo Saxon manhood. + + * * * * * + +STORIES OF WESTERN LIFE + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE_, By Zane Grey. Illustrated by Douglas Duer. + +In this picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago, we are +permitted to see the unscrupulous methods employed by the invisible hand of +the Mormon Church to break the will of those refusing to conform to its +rule. + + +_FRIAR TUCK_, By Robert Alexander Wason. Illustrated by Stanley L. Wood. + +Happy Hawkins tells us, in his humorous way, how Friar Tuck lived among the +Cowboys, how he adjusted their quarrels and love affairs and how he fought +with them and for them when occasion required. + + +_THE SKY PILOT_, By Ralph Connor. Illustrated by Louis Rhead. + +There is no novel, dealing with the rough existence of cowboys, so charming +in the telling, abounding as it does with the freshest and the truest +pathos. + + +_THE EMIGRANT TRAIL_, By Geraldine Bonner. Colored frontispiece by John +Rae. + +The book relates the adventures of a party on its overland pilgrimage, and +the birth and growth of the absorbing love of two strong men for a charming +heroine. + + +_THE BOSS OF WIND RIVER_, By A. M. Chisholm. Illustrated by Frank Tenney +Johnson. + +This is a strong, virile novel with the lumber industry for its central +theme and a love story full of interest as a sort of subplot. + + +_A PRAIRIE COURTSHIP_, By Harold Bindloss. + +A story of Canadian prairies in which the hero is stirred, through the +influence of his love for a woman, to settle down to the heroic business of +pioneer farming. + + +_JOYCE OF THE NORTH WOODS_, By Harriet T. Comstock. Illustrated by John +Cassel. + +A story of the deep woods that shows the power of love at work among its +primitive dwellers. It is a tensely moving study of the human heart and its +aspirations that unfolds itself through thrilling situations and dramatic +developments. + + * * * * * + +JOHN FOX, JR'S. + +STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list + + +_THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE._ Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +[Illustration] + +The "lonesome pine" from which the story takes its name was a tall tree +that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine +lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he +finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the +_footprints of a girl_. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and the +trail of these girlish footprints led the young engineer a madder chase +than "the trail of the lonesome pine." + + +_THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME._ Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as "Kingdom Come." It is +a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often +springs the flower of civilization. + +"Chad" the "little shepherd" did not know who he was nor whence he came--he +had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, seeking shelter +with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and mothered this waif about +whom there was such a mystery--a charming waif, by the way, who could play +the banjo better that anyone else in the mountains. + + +_A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND._ Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. + +The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland the lair of +moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner's son, and the heroine +a beautiful girl perversely christened "The Blight." Two impetuous young +Southerners' fall under the spell of "The Blight's" charms and she learns +what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the +mountaineers. + +Included in this volume is "Hell fer-Sartain" and other stories, some of +Mr. Fox's most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives. + + * * * * * + +MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_LAVENDER AND OLD LACE._ + +[Illustration] + +A charming story of a quaint corner of New England where bygone romance +finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the +young people on the staff of a newspaper--and it is one of the prettiest, +sweetest and quaintest of old fashioned love stories, * * * a rare book, +exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy, of tenderness, +of delightful humor and spontaniety. + + +_A SPINNER IN THE SUN._ + +Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story in which +poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a clever and +entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she always displays a +quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of pathos which give a touch +of active realism to all her writings. In "A Spinner in the Sun" she tells +an old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and +whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the +heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance. + + +_THE MASTER'S VIOLIN,_ + +A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso is +the reverent possessor of a genuine "Cremona." He consents to take for his +pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for technique, but +not the soul of an artist. The youth has led the happy, careless life of a +modern, well-to-do young American and he cannot, with his meagre past, +express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life and all its happy +phases as can the master who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl +comes into his life--a beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had +taken into her heart and home, and through his passionate love for her, he +learns the lessons that life has to give--and his soul awakes. + +Founded on a fact that all artists realize. + + * * * * * + +LOUIS TRACY'S + +CAPTIVATING AND EXHILARATING ROMANCES + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_CYNTHIA'S CHAUFFEUR._ Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. + +A pretty American girl in London is touring in a car with a chauffeur whose +identity puzzles her. An amusing mystery. + + +_THE STOWAWAY GIRL._ Illustrated by Nesbitt Benson. + +A shipwreck, a lovely girl stowaway, a rascally captain, a fascinating +officer, and thrilling adventures in South Seas. + + +_THE CAPTAIN OF THE KANSAS._ + +Love and the salt sea, a helpless ship whirled into the hands of cannibals, +desperate fighting and a tender romance. + + +_THE MESSAGE._ Illustrated by Joseph Cummings Chase. + +A bit of parchment found in the figurehead of an old vessel tells of a +buried treasure. A thrilling mystery develops. + + +_THE PILLAR OF LIGHT._ + +The pillar thus designated was a lighthouse, and the author tells with +exciting detail the terrible dilemma of its cut off inhabitants. + + +_THE WHEEL O'FORTUNE._ With illustrations by James Montgomery Flagg. + +The story deals with the finding of a papyrus containing the particulars of +some of the treasures of the Queen of Sheba. + + +_A SON OF THE IMMORTALS._ Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy. + +A young American is proclaimed king of a little Balkan Kingdom, and a +pretty Parisian art student is the power behind the throne. + +_THE WINGS OF THE MORNING._ + +A sort of Robinson Crusoe _redivivus_ with modern settings and a very +pretty love story added. The hero and heroine, are the only survivors of a +wreck, and have many thrilling adventures on their desert island. + + * * * * * + +THE NOVELS OF + +STEWART EDWARD WHITE + + +_THE RULES OF THE GAME._ Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller. + +The romance of the son of "The Riverman." The young college hero goes into +the lumber camp, is antagonized by "graft" and comes into the romance of +his life. + + +_ARIZONA NIGHTS._ Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth. + +A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life of the +ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece. + + +_THE BLAZED TRAIL._ With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty. + +A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young man who blazed +his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan pines. + + +_THE CLAIM JUMPERS._ A Romance. + +The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the Black Hills has +a hard time of it, but "wins out" in more ways than one. + + +_CONJUROR'S HOUSE._ Illustrated Theatrical Edition. + +Dramatized under the title of "The Call of the North." + +Conjuror's House is a Hudson Bay trading post where the head factor is the +absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and won a bride on this +forbidden land. + + +_THE MAGIC FOREST._ A Modern Fairy Tale. Illustrated. + +The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and their life is +treated could only belong to one who is in love with the forest and open +air. Based on fact. + + +_THE RIVERMAN._ Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood. + +The story of a man's fight against a river and of a struggle between +honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and shrewdness on the +other. + + +_THE SILENT PLACES._ Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin. + +The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine devotion, and +masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian and the instinct of the +Indian, are all finely drawn in this story. + + +_THE WESTERNERS._ + +A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the best American +novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no other book has done in +recent years. + + +_THE MYSTERY._ In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams. + +With illustrations by Will Crawford. + +The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout ship "Laughing +Lass" in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. In the solution, +there is a story of the most exciting voyage that man ever undertook. + + * * * * * + +TITLES SELECTED FROM + +GROSSET & DUNLAP'S LIST + +May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list + + +_THE SIEGE OF THE SEVEN SUITORS._ By Meredith Nicholson. Illustrated by C. +Coles Phillips and Reginald Birch. + +Seven suitors vie with each other for the love of a beautiful girl, and she +subjects them to a test that is full of mystery, magic and sheer amusement. + + +_THE MAGNET._ By Henry C. Rowland. Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood. + +The story of a remarkable courtship involving three pretty girls on a +yacht, a poet-lover in pursuit, and a mix-up in the names of the girls. + + +_THE TURN OF THE ROAD._ By Eugenia Brooks Frothingham. + +A beautiful young opera singer chooses professional success instead of +love, but comes to a place in life where the call of the heart is stronger +than worldly success. + + +_SCOTTIE AND HIS LADY._ By Margaret Morse. Illustrated by Harold M. Brett. + +A young girl whose affections have been blighted is presented with a Scotch +Collie to divert her mind, and the roving adventures of her pet lead the +young mistress into another romance. + + +_SHEILA VEDDER._ By Amelia E. Barr. Frontispiece by Harrison Fisher. + +A very beautiful romance of the Shetland Islands, with a handsome, strong +willed hero and a lovely girl of Gaelic blood as heroine. A sequel to "Jan +Vedder's Wife." + + +_JOHN WARD, PREACHER._ By Margaret Deland. + +The first big success of this much loved American novelist. It is a +powerful portrayal of a young clergyman's attempt to win his beautiful wife +to his own narrow creed. + + +_THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT._ By Robert W. Service. Illustrated by Maynard +Dixon. + +One of the best stories of "Vagabondia" ever written, and one of the most +accurate and picturesque of the stampede of gold seekers to the Yukon. The +love story embedded in the narrative is strikingly original. + + +_THE SECOND WIFE._ By Thompson Buchanan. Illustrated by W. W. Fawcett. +Harrison Fisher wrapper printed in four colors and gold. + +An intensely interesting story of a marital complication in a wealthy New +York family involving the happiness of a beautiful young girl. + + +_TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY._ By Grace Miller White. Illustrated by Howard +Chandler Christy. + +An amazingly vivid picture of low class life in a New York college town, +with a heroine beautiful and noble, who makes a great sacrifice for love. + + +_FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING._ By Grace Miller White. + +Frontispiece and wrapper in colors by Penthyn Stanlaws. + +Another story of "the storm country." Two beautiful children are kidnapped +from a wealthy home and appear many years after showing the effects of a +deep, malicious scheme behind their disappearance. + + +_THE LIGHTED MATCH._ By Charles Neville Buck. Illustrated by R. F. +Schabelitz. + +A lovely princess travels incognito through the States and falls in love +with an American man. There are ties that bind her to someone in her own +home, and the great plot revolves round her efforts to work her way out. + + +_MAUD BAXTER._ By C. C. Hotchkiss. Illustrated by Will Grefe. + +A romance both daring and delightful, involving an American girl and a +young man who had been impressed into English service during the +Revolution. + + +_THE HIGHWAYMAN._ By Guy Rawlence. Illustrated by Will Grefe. + +A French beauty of mysterious antecedents wins the love of an Englishman of +title. Developments of a startling character and a clever untangling of +affairs hold the reader's interest. + + +_THE PURPLE STOCKINGS._ By Edward Salisbury Field. Illustrated in colors; +marginal illustrations. + +A young New York business man, his pretty sweetheart, his sentimental +stenographer, and his fashionable sister are all mixed up in a +misunderstanding that surpasses anything in the way of comedy in years. A +story with a laugh on every page. + + +_Ask for complete free list of G. & D. 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