samuel slept not a wink all that night. first he lay wrestling with the congregation. and then his thoughts came to miss gladys, and what he was going to say to her. this kindled a fire in his blood, and when the first streaks of dawn were in the sky, he rose and went out to walk.
throughout all these adventures, his feelings had been mingled with the excitement of his love for her. samuel hardly knew what to make of himself. he had never kissed a woman in his life before—but now desire was awake, and from the deeps of him the most unexpected emotions came surging, sweeping him away. he was a prey to longings and terrors. wild ecstasies came to him, and then followed plunges into melancholy. he longed to see her, and other things stood in the way, and he did not know why he should be so tormented.
just to be in love would have been enough. but to have been given the love of a being like miss gladys—peerless and unapproachable, almost unimaginable!
after hours of pacing the streets, he called to see her. and she came to him, her face alight with eager curiosity, and crying, “tell me all about it!”
she listened, almost dumb with amazement. “and you said that to my father!” she exclaimed again and again. “and to mr. hickman! and to old mr. curtis! samuel! samuel!”
“it was all true, miss gladys,” he insisted.
“yes,” she said—“but—to say it to them!”
“they turned me out of the church,” he went on. “had they a right to do that?”
“i don't know,” she answered. “oh, my, what a time there will be!”
“and what are you going to do now?” she asked after a pause.
“i don't know. i wanted to talk about it with you.”
“but what do you think of doing?”
“i must expose them to the people.”
miss gladys looked at him quickly. “oh, no, samuel,” she said—“you mustn't do that!”
“why not, miss gladys?”
“because—it wouldn't do.”
“but miss gladys—”
“it wouldn't be decent, samuel. and it's so much more effective to talk with people privately, as you have been doing.”
“but who else is there to talk to?”
“why, i don't know. we'll have to think.”
“it's your father and mr. hickman i have to deal with, miss gladys. and they won't listen to me any more!”
“perhaps not. but, then, see how much you have done already!”
“what have i done?”
“think how ashamed you have made them!”
“but what difference does that make, miss gladys? don't you see they've still got the money they've taken?”
there was a pause. “this is something i have been thinking,” said samuel gravely. “i've had this great burden laid upon me, and i must carry it. i have to see the thing through to the end. and i'm afraid it will be painful to you. you may feel that you can't possibly marry me.”
at these words miss gladys gave a wild start. she stared at him in consternation. “marry you!” she gasped.
“yes,” he said; and then, seeing the look upon her face, he stopped.
“marry you!” she panted again.
a silence followed, while they gazed at each other.
“why, samuel!” she exclaimed.
“miss gladys,” he said in a low voice, “you told me that you loved me.”
“yes,” she said, “but surely—” and then suddenly she bit her lips together exclaiming, “this has gone too far!”
“miss gladys!” he cried.
“samuel,” she said, “we have been two bad children; and we must not go on in this way.”
the boy gave a gasp of amazement.
“i had no idea that you were taking me so seriously,” she continued. “it wasn't fair to me.”
“then—then you don't love me!” he panted.
“why—perhaps,” she replied, “how can i tell? but one does not marry because one loves, samuel.”
he gazed at her, speechless.
“i thought we were playing with each other; and i thought you understood it. it wasn't very wise, perhaps—-”
“playing with each other!” whispered the boy, his voice almost gone.
“you take everything with such frightful seriousness,” she protested. “really, i don't think you had any right—-”
“miss gladys!” he cried in sudden anguish; and she stopped and stared at him, frightened.
“do you know what you have done to me?” he exclaimed.
“samuel,” she said in a trembling voice, “i am very much surprised and upset. i had no idea of such a thing; and you must stop, before it is too late.”
“but i love you!” he cried, half beside himself.
“yes,” she said in great agitation—“and that's very good of you. but there are some things you must remember—”
“you—you let me embrace you, miss gladys! you let me think of you so! why, what is a man to do? what was i to make of it? i had never loved a woman before. and you—you led me on—”
“samuel, you must not talk like this!” she broke in. “i can't listen to you. it was a misunderstanding, and you must forget it all. you must go away. we must not meet again.”
“miss gladys!” he cried in horror.
“yes,” she exclaimed, “you must go—”
“you are going to turn me off!” he panted. “oh, how can you say such a thing? why, think what you have done to me!”
“samuel,” protested the girl angrily, “this is perfectly preposterous behavior of you! you have no right to go on in this way. you never had any right to—to think such things. how could you so forget your place?”
and he started as if stung with a whip. “my place!” he gasped.
“yes,” she said.
“i see, i see!” he burst out. “it's my 'place' again. it's the fact that i have no money!”
“why, samuel!” she exclaimed. “what a thing to say! it's not that—”
“it's that, and it's nothing but that! it never is anything but that! it's because i am a poor boy, and couldn't help myself! you told me that you loved me, and i believed you. you were so beautiful, and i thought that you must be good! why, i worshiped the very ground you walked on. i would have done anything in the world for you—i would have died for you! i went about thinking about you all day—i made you into a dream of everything that was good and perfect! and now—now—you say that you were only playing with me! using me for your selfish pleasure—just as you do all the other poor people!”
“samuel!” she gasped.
“just as your father does the children in his mill! just as your cousin does the poor girls he seduces! just as you do everything in life that you touch!”
the girl had turned scarlet with anger. “how dare you speak to me that way?” she cried.
“i dare to speak the truth to anyone! and that is the truth about you! you are like all the rest of them—the members of your class. you are parasites—vampires—you devour other people's lives! and you are the worst, because you are a woman! you are beautiful, and you ought to be all the things that i imagined you were! but you use your beauty for a snare—you wreck men's lives with it—”
“stop, samuel!”
“i won't stop! you shall hear me! you drew me on deliberately—you wanted to amuse yourself with me, to see what i would do. and you had never a thought about me, or my rights, or the harm you might be doing to me! and now you've got tired—and you tell me to end it! you tell me about my 'place!' what am i in the world for, but to afford you amusement? what are all the working people for but to save you trouble and keep you beautiful and happy? what are the children for but to spin clothes for you to wear? and you—what do you do for them, to pay for their wasted lives, for all their toil and suffering?”
“samuel prescott!” cried the outraged girl. “i will not hear another word of this!”
“yes, that's just what your father said! and what your cousin said! and what your clergyman said! and you can send for the butler and have me put out—but let me tell you that will not be the end of it. we shall find some way to get at you! the people will not always be your slaves—they will not always give their lives to keep you in idleness and luxury! you were born to it—you've had everything in the world that you wanted, from the first hour of your life. and you think that will go on forever, that nothing can ever change it! but let me tell you that it seems different to the people underneath! we are tired of being robbed and spit upon! and we mean to fight! we mean to fight! we don't intend to be starved and tormented forever!”
and then in the midst of his wild tirade, samuel stopped, and stared with horror in his eyes—realizing that this was miss gladys to whom he was talking! and suddenly a storm of sobs rose in him; and he put his hands to his face, and burst into tears, and turned and rushed from the room.
he went down the street, like a hunted animal, beside himself with grief, and looking for some place to hide. and as he ran on, he pulled out the faded pictures he had carried next to his heart, and tore them into pieces and flung them to the winds.
