CHAPTER XX
HARBOR
"My faith, but I'm glad you're entirely well again, Sophy!" wroteThe Author, in his small, fine, hypercritical script. "You make theworld a pleasanter place by being alive in it. People like youshould inculcate in themselves the fixed and unalterable habit ofbeing alive. They should firmly refuse to be anything else. I callthis to your attention, in the hope that you will see your boundenduty and do it.
"When I thought you were going to quit, I ran away. That was acalamity I could not stand by and witness, without disaster.However, Jelnik stayed!
"Your nurse (I do not like Miss Ransome, though I respect, admire,and fear her. Her emotions are carbolized, her heart is sterilized,her personality has the mathematical perfection of something turnedout by a super-machine: like, say, the last word in machine-guns.None of the divine imperfection of your hand-wrought, artist-stuffthere! I forgive her for existing, because she is intelligent anduseful, two things that, without lying like a Christian and agentleman, one may not say of many women, and seldom of one woman atthe same time), your nurse gave me a highly interesting, impersonal,scientific account of what happened after my flight. Her testimonywas all the more valuable in that she was, as she said, only'psychologically interested.' She reminded me that Empedocles issaid to have recalled a young woman from death by the same means,i.e., the insistent repetition of her name; which proved to MissRansome that the poor old ancients had 'anticipated, though ofcourse unscientifically, some of the principles of modernpsychology.' _Eheu!_
"It proved something else to me, Sophy--that I had too willinglyunderestimated Mr. Nicholas Jelnik. There is very much more to thatyoung man than I like to admit.
"He would have made such a perfect villain: I could have made a workof art of him, as a villain! And now I can't, because he isn't. Thischagrins me. It upsets my notions of the fitness of things. Moreyet: he loves you, Sophy, more than I do, or ever could.
"Does this astound you? Come and let us reason together: the spiritmoves me to speak out in meeting.
"You are the only woman I have ever been willing to marry. That Ishould wish to marry you astonished me far, far more than it didyou. At the same time it delighted me by its very unexpectedness. Itgave me a brand-new emotion, and brand-new emotions aren't every-dayaffairs, let me tell you! You brought something naive, unusual,fresh, perplexing, into a bored existence. And then you refused tospoil it! That added to the quality of the unusualness. The ninetyand nine would have subjected me to the acid test of matrimony, withthe later and inevitable alimony. The saving hundredth sees to itthat I shall keep my illusions! O rare dear wise Sophy! How shall Irepay you?
"For I shall be able to indulge in day-dreams now. I shall not growold cynically. There _are_ unselfish, true-hearted, valiant women.There _are_ women who will not marry men for position, name, fame,power, money; no, nor for anything but love. How do I know? Becauseyou don't love me, my dear. But you do love Nicholas Jelnik. You hadnot come back from the gates of death else, Sophy.
"Marry him. You will bring him the quiet strength and sureness heneeds. A temperamental man, a finely organized, highly gifted,sensitive, and intellectual man needs just such affection as yours,as unshakable as the sun, as faithful as the fixed stars. That youshould love him almost makes me believe in the direct interventionof divine Providence in his behalf. My own innate and troublesomedecency forces me to add that he is worth it. He has altogether_too_ much, confound him!
"Do you know that while you lay ill, he came and told me about thefinding of Jessamine Hynds, showed me her statement, told me, inshort, the whole story? I was consumed with envy, malice, and alluncharitableness; to think that such a thing should or could happenright under my nose, and I all unwitting! And you, too, Sophy, wentthrough such an experience! I'd give a year of my life to have beenwith you.
"When Jelnik had finished, and I'd caught my breath, I apologizedfor having been a dam' nuisance. He explained, delicately,soothingly, with exquisite politeness, that literary folks ofconsequence _have_ to be dam' nuisances at times. It's the pricethey pay.
"And now let me speak to you, my little Sophy, as your loving andloyal friend: _Hold fast to Jelnik._ I knew his father. The positionhe occupied wasn't exactly royal, but the elect addressed him as'thou.' And you have learned somewhat of the Hyndses. In consequence,your Jelnik is a mixture of South-Carolina-Viennese-Hynds-Jelnikpride, beside which Satan's is as mild, meek, and innocuous as aproperly raised Anglican curate. Don't meet his pride with pride.Meet it with _you_, Sophy. Most of us have been loved in our time,but how few of us have been permitted really to love! That you havein full measure this heavenliest of all powers, is your hope and his.
"There are times I'm almost sorry you didn't love _me_, Sophy. Ishould then have passed my days in a state of pleasant bewilderment,trying to figure out how the deuce it happened. Or should I, though?H'm! I might have gotten used to being married to you, and thatwould have spelled boredom. The thought makes me shudder.
"Johnson and I are coming down for Leetchy's wedding, of course.That pink-and-white piece of Irishry will rule Geddes to perfection.There's the steel under the velvet, the cat's claws under that satinpaw of hers--more power to it! I have two prints and a piece ofCloisonne for her that I am sorely tempted to keep for myself. Ihave more than once bought things to give to friends, and then foundmyself unable to do so. I shouldn't be able to give these to anybodybut one of the ladies of Hynds House.
"Johnson mopes. The youngest Meade girl, she with the dimples, thepink cheeks, the fluffy hair, and the fluffier brains, is the cause.He sighs for everything and everybody. For Mary Magdalen's battercakes. For the Black family. For the Kissing Cow, and for BeautifulDog. Hynds House is a fatal place!
"So we are coming back to it, as soon as we may. I kiss your hand,Madame, and beg you to understand that so long as we two live youare never going to be able, for any considerable length of time, toget rid of, Your affectionate friend, THE AUTHOR."
I was able to read between the lines, and my heart warmed to TheAuthor. At the same time the letter saddened me, in so far as itreferred to Mr. Jelnik.
Refuse to let him go? But I couldn't keep him. I knew now that hehad to go, that it was the best thing, the only thing. Doctor Geddeshelped me to see that. The doctor tried, at first, to keep hiscousin in Hyndsville. Why shouldn't Nicholas go into partnershipwith him? Why shouldn't Nicholas share everything the open-hearted,open-handed doctor had?
Mr. Jelnik smiled, thanked him, and put the offer by. And I knew hewas right.
* * * * *
It had been a rainy day and was now one of those afternoons thathave the rawness of autumn, though summer is still present. It wasso chilly that a fire burned in the library fireplace, before whichI was sitting. The wind was from the northeast, and the trees andbushes slanted before it. Potty Black and I had the library all toour alone-selves, for Alicia was spending the day with Mary Meade,one of her bridesmaids.
The wedding was less than six weeks off, and preparations were underway. It was to be a home wedding, the first to take place in HyndsHouse since Richard's day, and somehow that lent the occasion therose color of romance. It was thus a part of Hynds House history,something Hyndsville couldn't take lightly. Alicia's wedding was atown affair, in which everybody was delightfully interested.
Besides, the bridegroom himself was a Hynds on his mother's side, asHyndsville ladies remembered, when they sat on our front porchworking on wonderful bits of embroidered things for the bride. Itwas then I learned in fullest detail the whole history ofHyndsville, of the Hyndses, and of Great-Aunt Sophronisba inparticular. I fancy that the Witch of Endor's neighbors must havehad just such an opinion of her as these Hyndsville folk had ofGreat-Aunt Sophronisba.
South Carolina people always talk in terms of three generations.When they say something about you, they remember something aboutyour mother or your grandfather at the same time, and they tel
lthat, too. There is a fearsome frankness about the conversation ofthe born South Carolinian that The Author says is only to be matchedin an English country house when the county families are gatheredtogether. Like this, for instance:
"No, my dear, I can't say I'm surprised at Sally's running away andgetting married. Let's see: her grandfather was a Dampier, wasn'the? Didn't one of the Dampiers murder somebody, or something likethat? It seems to me I have heard dear Mama relate some suchcircumstance."
"Oh, _no_, Mary! It wasn't _murder_! He shot one of the Abercrombiesin a duel, that's all. He was really a very fine man! They had adispute about a horse, and Mr. Abercrombie struck Mr. Dampier'slittle negro groom over the head with his crop. After that, ofcourse, there was nothing to do but challenge him. You must bethinking of Barton Bailey, Eliza DuFour's grandfather on hermother's side. _He_ was a complete scoundrel. His poor wife (she wasa Garrett; very dull, poor thing, like all the Garretts, but atleast the Garretts were honest, which is more than even charity cansay for the Baileys) his wife led a martyr's life with him. Ormaybe you're thinking of Tiger Bill Pendarvis. A most _awful_person!--almost an out-law!"
Mrs. Scarboro looked up, bit off a thread, and said placidly:
"Oh, awful! He was a cousin of mine on dear Papa's side of thefamily. Papa and Mama used to say that they never could understandwhy Cousin Sophronisba Hynds didn't pick out Tiger Bill instead ofpouncing upon a perfectly innocent little Englishman."
I sat and listened. One thing was joyously clear and plain to me.They liked and trusted me enough now to talk about their own peoplebefore me, which is the high sign of fellowship in South Carolina.But learn, O outsider, that silence is golden, so far as _you_ areconcerned. Wisely did I hold my peace, and devoutly thank the Lordthat times had changed for the better.
For a great deal of that change I had to thank my dear girl, so muchmore clever and tactful than I. And so I would not cloud her lastdays with me by letting her see that I was unhappy. Only, I was gladthis afternoon to be by myself for a breathing-space. It rests one'sface occasionally to take off one's smile. I took off mine, then,and let down the corners of my mouth.
The door leading to the hall was half open. The house was full ofblue-gray shadows, and had a drowsy hush upon it, a pleasanter hushthan it used to know. One heard the rushing wind outside, and aboveit Mary Magdalen singing one of her interminable "speretuals."
A slinking shadow stole through the hall, a wary yellow headappeared in the door, and Beautiful Dog sneaked into the room.Beautiful Dog had not known a happy day since the departure of Mr.Johnson. Not all the coddlings of the cook, nor the blandishments ofsympathetic housemaids consoled him for the absence of his god. Hegrew thinner, if that could be possible. His tail hung at half-mast,his ears were a signal of mourning. Queenasheeba said he looked like"sumpin' 'at happened to a dawg."
One hope sustained Beautiful Dog's drooping spirit--the hope that hemight suddenly turn a corner, or enter a room, and find the adoredJohnson smiling kindly at him. Wherefore he dared the to-be-shunnedpresence of other white people. He nerved himself to enter tabooeddomains. Love sustained him. He knew he had no business there, justas our cats knew it and, whenever they caught him at it, visitedswift and dire punishment upon him. Beautiful Dog dared even thecats, those black nightmares of his existence.
He met my glance, paused, and cringed. But as I made no hostilemovement, and seemed disposed to be friendly, Beautiful Dog grinnedhalf-heartedly, wagged his rope of a tail dejectedly, and advancedfarther. Then he paused again, head on one side, ears forlornlyflopping, and made an awkward motion with his fore paws, expressiveof doubtful trust and painful inquiry. His god had been wont tochoose this particular room by preference. Did I know where he was?When he was coming back?
Beautiful Dog glanced wistfully at the empty chair over by thewindow. Once or twice his god had allowed him to lie beside thatchair while he read, and if Beautiful Dog happened to raise hishead, a kind hand happened to fall upon it. He hadn't forgotten. Hisdesire now was to sneak over to the chair and sniff at it. Perhapsby some exquisite miracle his man might suddenly appear in his oldplace. Can't miracles happen for Beautiful Dogs as well as for otherfolks, when times and seasons are propitious?
Beautiful Dog took another step toward the chair. And then therepaced into the library, and caught him in the rear, his archenemy--Sir Thomas More Black. The great cat took one look at thenigger dog trespassing upon forbidden ground. You could see SirThomas More swell with rage and astonishment, and then lengthen outlike an accordion. Without a sound he launched himself upon theintruder. And at the same instant and actuated by the same motive,Potty Black, who had been sweetly and peacefully dozing on my lap,rose up with slitted eyes, bottle-brushed her tail, and hurledherself into the fray.
Attacked front and rear, Beautiful Dog was at hideous disadvantage.He launched himself sidewise; he didn't even have time to howl. Hefell over his own splay feet as he ran, butted into chairs andtables, twisted, turned, whirled, dodged, but always presented justthe right spot to be clawed. He couldn't dash to the door andescape: the cats were too swift for him. They kept their bewilderedvictim circling around the middle of the room.
I was sorry for Beautiful Dog, for my sleek, petted, purring pussieshad turned into raging black tornadoes edged with a lightning ofclaws. If the aristocratic Black Family had been raised inHooligan's Alley itself, on the soft side of the ash-bins, theycouldn't have behaved more villainously. Alas! they were _cats_,just as people are people.
I snatched up the brass-headed poker, the readiest thing to my hand.I merely wished to shoo off the Blacks with it. But as I rose frommy chair with a _scat_! upon my lips, Beautiful Dog, seeing out ofthe tail of his eye a chance to escape, dashed headlong into me. Hecame with such force that I fell backward, and the poker flew out ofmy hand and came _crack_! upon the sacred tiles of Hynds Houselibrary. There was an ominous clatter, for no less than the Fatherof his Country himself had fallen out of his place. At the sameinstant Beautiful Dog gained the door, with both cats upon his hindquarters; with one prolonged yell of terror he made for safety andMary Magdalen.
I picked myself and the tile up. Thank Heaven, it wasn't broken. Theblow had loosened the cement that held it in place, and where it hadbeen was a small square hole.
I looked at that hole doubtfully. There oughtn't to be any holethere at all. That was a curious way to fix tiles, such precioustiles as ours. I slipped my hand in and tentatively tested the blackwall, and discovered that the other tiles, as might be expected, hadbeen properly put in; that is, against a solid background.
I put my hand farther into the aperture. It was larger than might beexpected, and most cunningly contrived--a hollow space some teninches in width, and possibly a foot deep. There was something init.
Now I am mortally afraid of rats and mice, and what I had touchedhad the sleazy feel of frayed silk. It might be a rat's nest! I tooka sliver of lightwood from the fire, and with this examined theblack interior, before I ventured my fingers again. It wasn't arat's nest in the corner. It was a package. A package, or rather asizable buckskin bag carefully tied together with thongs of the samematerial, and this wrapped in a piece of silk that tore and went topieces even as I fingered it.
Even then I didn't guess! I thought it was, perhaps, a Revolutionaryhoard, maybe such another collection of old coins as we had found inthe room without windows.
The silk dropped away like rotting leaves, but the buckskin bag wasstout and in perfect condition. So many and so hard were the knotsin the thongs that I had to use my penknife to cut them. And havingdone so, I poured the contents of the bag on the library table.
It was, as I have said, a gray day. But the fires of a century'ssunsets flamed and flashed in that library! Ruby, sapphire, diamond,emerald, pearl--how they glowed and glimmered! How they shone andsparkled! For the moment there fell upon me that madness that jewelsbring upon women, a sort of wild delight in their hard, brightbeauty, an ecstasy, an intoxication. I poured them from one han
d tothe other, I held the greatest to my cheek. The loveliness of themwent to my head. "I did chap them atween my hands, as children chapchaff. They did glow like the Devill his rainbow," Jessamine hadsaid. And remembering her, the delight vanished.
With stunning force the meaning of this discovery came home to me. Ihad found the unfindable! This, this was where Shooba had hiddenthem between a night and a morning, Shooba the "skilfullest workmanon Hynds place." One fancied him here, in the dead of night, whileall Hynds House slept a drugged sleep. It would suit his sardonichumor, his impish malice, to hide them where the Hyndses must passthem daily; and, himself a slave, to hide them behind the picturedsemblance of Washington. The grim irony of the thing! And not thecunning of man, but the antics of a cur, a yellow nigger dog, hadoutwitted the cunning of the old witch doctor! Beautiful Dog hadbrought to light that which Jessamine had died alone in the darkrather than reveal.
There was one thing more in the buckskin bag, wrapped separately.When I got this separate package open, I found three frayed, blackfeathers bound together with a strand of black hair, a piece ofyellow wax with two slivers of what I think was bone thrust throughit crosswise, and a small semblance of a snake, rudely carved out ofwood. There was, too, some dust, or powder, that must once havebeen leaves, or perhaps roots. These unchancy things and the bagthat held them I dropped into the fire, breathing a sigh of reliefto see its red tooth seize upon them. The wax made a hissing noise,and the dust of leaves, or whatever it was, burned with a bright,fierce flame.
Then with feverish haste I got the Hynds jewels back into thebuckskin bag. I hadn't the faintest notion as to their actual value,though I knew it must be considerable--enough to make up to NicholasJelnik the losses he had sustained; enough to decide his fate--andmine. Even now he was packing to go; even now there were "For Sale"signs on the gray cottage.
I ran into our living-room, snatched my sewing-bag from thesewing-stand, and dropped the heavy bag into it. That looked morecommonplace.
The clamor from the kitchen, incident upon Beautiful Dog's havingtaken refuge under Mary Magdalen's skirts, had died down. I knewthat Beautiful Dog was licking his wounds after defeat, and theBlack cats, sedate and mild-mannered, were licking their paws aftervictory. I determined that from that afternoon Beautiful Dog shouldbecome an honored and important institution in Hynds House. If I hadto choose a new family escutcheon, I think I should insist uponhaving Beautiful Dog rampant upon it!
When I went outside, the garden was a gray-green gloom of flyingleaves and twisting tree-branches bending before the stiff northeastgale. It was wild weather--weather that sent the blood tinglingthrough the veins and whipped red into one's cheeks.
I got into Mr. Jelnik's grounds through the hedge behind thespring-house, and ran like a hare through his garden. I had tohammer upon his door before I could make Achmet hear me, so loud andsurf-like was the noise of the wind in the trees.
The Jinnee stepped back and salaamed, his hands upon his breast.Then he laid a finger upon his lips, for from up-stairs came thewailing outcry of a violin.
The Jinnee looked thin and old. His garments hung loose upon hisshrunken frame. There was trouble in that house, he told me. Themaster had wished to send Daoud away. Daoud had refused to go. Toleave one's lord when calamity came upon him was to shame one'sbeard. It was the act of the infidel, not the behavior of thefaithful, and Daoud had threatened to shave his beard, put on thedress of a pilgrim, and beg his way from Hyndsville to Mecca. He waseven now kneeling upon a prayer-mat reciting a four-bow prayer. Asfor the master, for two days he had not eaten; he merely swalloweda cup of coffee in the morning because Achmet wept. This afternoonhe had fled to his violin for relief. Verily, God was afflictingthem! "The bad fortune of the good turns his face to heaven, even asthe good fortune of the bad bends his head to the earth. It is thewill of God: _Islam_!" said The Jinnee, simply.
"I must see Mr. Jelnik, now, this minute! I have news for him," Isaid hastily.
The Jinnee looked doubtful. Plainly, he didn't want his masterdisturbed, even by me. "I have never seen him like this before," hetold me. "Listen!"
Came the cries of the violin, heart-rending cries of regret anddespair, followed by furious protests; then a nobler grief, andlove, and longing.
"After a while it will pray for him. Then Satan the stoned, whom mayGod confound, will depart from him," said Achmet.
"But in the meantime I must see him, immediately."
"He goes to-morrow. That is why he is afflicted to-day," said TheJinnee. "I think, _hanoum_, he would go without seeing you again. Itis a grievous thing to say to one's beloved, 'I leave you.' I havesaid it. I was young then. I am old now, but I have not forgotten."
I unfastened the chain from my neck. A half-coin swung from it as apendant.
"Place this in his hand. It is a sign. It has power to lay the evilspirit which troubles this house," I told him gravely.
He seized upon it with an eager hand. "In the name of God!" said TheJinnee, and fairly flew out of the room.
A minute later, his violin grasped in one hand, my chain in theother, Nicholas Jelnik appeared. His appearance shocked me. The maskwas off; here was stark and naked misery.
"Nicholas!" I said, "Nicholas!"
"You should not have come!" he said roughly. "Why have you come? Idid not want you to see me--thus. Is it not enough for me tosuffer?" And he made an impatient, imploring gesture. His lipsquivered.
"Put aside the violin, Ariel," I said. "But keep the coin."
He stiffened, as if he braced himself for further blows. But he laidaside the violin, and with a supreme effort of will got himself inhand. That early training in self-control worked a miracle now. Herewas no longer the wild, white-lipped musician, but a pale, proudyoung man who faced me with stately politeness.
"I have another gift for you, Nicholas Jelnik." To save my life Icouldn't keep my voice from shaking, my eyes from glittering, mycheeks from flaming. "Do not go, old Jinnee. Stay and see what giftI bring the master."
Then it occurred to me that it would be dangerous should strange orgreedy eyes look upon what my sewing-bag hid. The thought frightenedme."
"You are sure there is none to see? Achmet, there is no strangeraround?"
"We are alone," said the black man, quietly. Both of them seemedastonished and concerned.
Reassured, I drew forth the heavy buckskin bag and placed it inNicholas Jelnik's hands.
"From Hynds House--and me--and oh, Nicholas, from Beautiful Dog,too!" I said, and laughed and cried.
For the moment he didn't understand. He thought it some lovingwoman-foolishness of Sophy's, some woman-gift she had made for him.I knew, for he gave me a glance of tenderness. And then he openedthe bag, and staggered like a drunken man, and sank into the nearestchair, trembling like a leaf in the wind. The Hynds fortune had comeback to the last of Richard's blood.
When the mist cleared from my eyes, I saw old Achmet on the floor,with his hands upraised and tears running down his black cheekslike rain, unashamedly and unaffectedly pouring out praises andthanksgivings to his Creator.
"Hold out your skirts, Sophy!" cried Nicholas Jelnik, and poured theglittering things into my lap, boyishly. He was beautiful again,radiant and young-eyed as the choiring cherubim. There were twoexquisite, pear-shaped ear-ring drops among the Hynds jewels, andthese he took, threaded upon my chain on either side the brokencoin, and hung around my neck. He held a ruby against my lip andturquoises near my eyes, and laughed.
"These for Hynds House, Sophy!" he cried, and laughed again to seemy lips tremble. "What? It is not these you want? Choose foryourself, then. I promised you the best of them, you know."
"I want none of them," I said.
"No? Take them, then, Achmet, and put them away," said Mr. Jelnik,in a matter-of-fact voice. "You will guard them for me, for the timebeing. And tell Daoud I have changed my mind about sending him away.He can change his about shaving his beard, and save himself thetrouble of begging his way to Mecca."
&nb
sp; I stood up in silence, and held out my skirt apron-wise, while TheJinnee as silently removed the Hynds jewels. Then he tied thebuckskin bag, concealed it in a fold of his robe, and left the room.
"Now, Sophy," said Mr. Jelnik, facing me, "you offered Hynds Houseto me once, and I refused it because I didn't have the price. I toldyou at the time that if ever I had the Hynds jewels in mypossession, I might be tempted to make you an offer of exchange. Iam going to make you an offer now. I should like to live in HyndsHouse, Sophy. I don't think I could be happy anywhere else. You see,Sophy, I'm going to spend the rest of my life here in America,become an American citizen. Now, what about Hynds House?"
"You may have it," I said.
"At my own price?" he demanded.
"At your own price. Did you think I would haggle with you?"
"No. It's I who intend to haggle with you. I'm going to make atremendous bargain. There's something that must go with the house.Something that's worth more than all the Hyndses ever had in alltheir lives. _You_, Sophy. My sweetheart, come!" And he stood thereshining-eyed, and held out his arms.
"Once I sent for you. Once I called you. And both times you came tome, Sophy. You came because you are mine. _Come!_" said NicholasJelnik. And the golden lights danced in and out of his eyes thatwere like brown mountain water when the sun is upon it, and his hairwas like Absalom's.
_In all Israel there was none to be so much praised as Absalom for his beauty; from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head there was no blemish in him._
And caught by the surge and power, as it were of the very wave oflife itself, I was swept into those outstretched arms.
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