everything was put in order, the house cleaned and the cabins newly whitewashed, to brighten the place for the daughter's return. but the day looked dull when she came with the little child crying in the nurse's arms. there were tears and embraces and tremulous words of love.
on the steps my young mistress turned to the nurse and said, "give her to me, titine." and at this moment i felt that an arrow from a bow in the sky had shot through me. titine! i did not know that the world had presumed to hold a beauty and a charm so exquisite. her complexion was as the richest cream, her hair showed the merest suggestion of a waver rather than a negro kink, her eyes were black-blue, and her lips—was it solomon who said "her lips are as a thread of scarlet"? i was a man now, grown to full strength and passion—from the moment i saw that french, spanish, negro, anglo-saxon girl. never before had i seen anyone to thrill me; surely not a negress, and certainly i had not presumed to [pg 226]acknowledge the charms of a white woman. i did not fall at once in love with titine; i was too excited, too breathless as i gazed upon her. i reminded myself of an animal, beholding for the first time a female of his own species—and i verily believe that i felt a desire to throw my head up and scream like a panther.
"dan," old miss cried, "why don't you bring in the things? what do you want to stand there for like a chicken with the gapes?"
in this comparison there was something so appropriate that i could not suppress a laugh, though i took care to hide it from old miss. miss may turned to the girl and told her to help me bring in the bags, but old miss objected. "let her rest, may," she said. "dan hasn't been doing a thing. he's pretty much as you left him—scarcely worth his salt."
this was a fine recommendation to titine, and i felt the blood mount to my face, as i turned toward the carriage at the gate. but i glanced back and saw the girl following me with her eyes; and i wondered, selfishly enough, why she had not insisted upon helping me, though i needed no assistance, for i was strong enough at that moment to seize all the bags at once and hurl them over the house.
i saw but little of titine that afternoon (or evening[pg 227] as we termed it), for the child was fretful and put a claim upon nearly all her time, but i heard her singing in a room down the hall from our "office," and i stepped about, keeping quick time with the tingling leap of my blood. at the supper hour she came down to stand behind miss may, and i marched boldly into the dining-room, delighted now to resume a menial service. i stood beside her, but alas! with what scorn did she look at me. the child began to cry and she was sent above, and it was then that i began to hear something of her history. she had belonged to marston's maiden sister, a peculiar creature who had cared for nothing but titine and a white woolly dog. the dog died and the mistress, doubling her affection for the girl, sent her to a convent to be educated, greatly to the scandal of her associates. at the old woman's death, of recent date, the girl had fallen to marston. she complained at this transfer, declaring that her mistress had drawn up a paper to set her free, but the paper could not be found, so she was compelled to submit, stubbornly at first, but after a while becoming so much attached to miss may that she rejoiced in her good fortune.
"she knows as much and is a far better talker than i am," said miss may.
[pg 228]
"daughter, you must not say that," old miss objected. "it cannot be true and it surely is not right."
"very well, mother, i won't say it again, but you will soon find out for yourself."
then they all fell into a family talk, the sudden death of marston and the entanglement in which his affairs were likely to be found. he was not a good manager, never knew what his income was, and was always in debt. but he was so kind-hearted—and here miss may wept and the subject was changed.
immediately after supper young master dressed himself to call on miss potter, and when he was gone i threw aside my senseless book and went down into the yard, to dodge behind the trees at the corner of the house, hoping to catch sight of titine on the veranda. at last she came out, with a red cap on her head, and stood with her hands resting on the balustrade, looking far away at the dying pink in the sky. i stepped out boldly and touched my hat. she glanced down at me and tossed her head. but i knew that she was not displeased.
"beautiful evening," i said.
"indeed!"
[pg 229]
"this is but one of many of our charming sun-sets."
"ah, then the sun goes down every evening?"
"y-e-s," i stammered, for she was beginning to make me feel foolish.
"in the same place?" she asked, cutting her eye at me.
"well, not exactly. but in the west, generally."
"startling."
"oh, not when we have accustomed ourselves to it."
"indeed. but tell me, is salt very high here, or do you use a great deal of it?"
"i don't quite understand you."
"i heard your old mistress say that you were not worth your salt."
"yes, she would say anything to humiliate me. i inflicted a mortal wound when i began to study with my young master."
"oh, you have studied, have you? that was foolish. i committed the same indiscretion."
"if you have studied, then it was glorious to study."
"it is bad enough not to be worth your salt, but please don't be a fool."
"i can't help it. you would rob a philosopher of his wisdom."
she laughed, and i believe that had a lancet pricked[pg 230] an artery my blood would have spurted a mile high. i heard a sharp cry from the child, and it smote my heart, not that the little thing might be suffering, but that i was to be robbed. "i must go," she said.
"and shall i stay?"
"yes, if you sleep standing up, like a horse."
she was gone, and i stood under the trees, gazing at the cabin lights; and i waited there until the lights began to go out, but the girl did not return. i heard young master ride up to the gate, and i went out to take his horse. he walked with me to the stable. he said not a word until we were returning, and then, clutching my arm, he told me that miss potter had consented to be his wife. "i am the happiest human being on the face of this broad earth," he said, waving his arm so as to take in the entire universe. "and she says that she will wait till i have made myself famous, for i told her i thought that this would be wise, believing with some of the great thinkers, that while marriage might improve a man's judgment, it might also put out a part of his fire. you know i was born with the idea that i was to become an orator, and i have not run against anything to change my opinion. i feel something surging within me, and all i need is a subject. i can be proud of her, dan; i am proud[pg 231] of her, and i must make myself worthy of her pride. what are you so glum about to-night?"
"you have seen the girl that came with miss may?"
"yes, she is a beauty. and she has caught you? i'm glad of it. oh, it seems that old mother nature is not disposed to let us drift far apart. in common we felt many an emotion, and love came along to teach one of us what the other did not know. but you don't mean that you have fallen in love with her so soon?"
"i don't know anything when i think of her, mars. bob. more than half my life seems to be compressed into the few hours she has been under our roof."
it was getting late, and bob went to bed soon after we reached the room, to dream of a love that had leaped to meet his own; and i lay there listening to the faint cries of a child, and the almost silent sounds of foot-falls on the floor, down the hall. in the morning i was up before the sun, dodging about among the trees at the east end of the veranda. at last she came down to freshen her eyes with a glimpse of the dawn-couch, purple with the sun's resurrection.
"i am almost persuaded that you are determined to earn your salt, you are up so early," she said with a smile brighter than the new day.
[pg 232]
"is it because you are from the sugar lands of louisiana that salt is such a novelty to you?" i asked. she did not reply, but stood looking at the hills, far away.
"i never get tired of them," she said; "they are so strange and new. we have no hills in our country, you know; nothing but a level stretch as far as the eye can see, and we know that beyond this another level stretch lies, and beyond that, still another. but here, i don't know what's beyond. blue mystery everywhere."
"some time i will take the buggy and drive you over to the hills," i said, and the light of a new interest flew to her eyes.
"will you? that will be kind. but will they let you take the buggy?"
"my young master will give me permission, and we can slip off from old miss. let us go sunday, after dinner?"
this was on a saturday, and the length of time lying dead between then and sunday afternoon was to me a sunless, moonless and starless age. but the hour, the minute came, and amidst the half contemptuous titterings and envious glances of the negroes, we drove off from the gate, down a lane, far across two white turn-pikes that streaked a hill and striped a valley, up[pg 233] through a fern cove to a dark, mysterious spring; and here we left the buggy to climb a crag. she had seen red lumps of sand-stone, but never had she touched a living rock, and at the foot of a cliff, moss-grown and vine-strung, she stood with her head bowed and with her red cap in her hand—a goddess in meditation, a nymph at prayer. i stood apart and in deep reverence looked at her, fearful that my nearness might profane her devotions. i had begun to ascribe to her a super-human quality, a beauty belonging not to this world, and a virtue breathed by the ancient maidens who preferred death to a tarnishment of their chastity. indeed, had there been such an institution as the supreme bench of sentimental idiots, i should surely have been selected to a seat upon it.
"is it not divine here, in this air, blown fresh from paradise?" i said, lifting my eyes like an ox.
"yes, and i wish we had brought something to eat," she replied. "this rough climbing has made me hungry."
"you hungry!" i cried. "impossible."
"why impossible?" and she put on her red cap and looked at me from head to foot.
"because your soul—"
"bosh!" she said and laughed. "all you kentucky[pg 234] men are alike, from what i have read and from what i now see. you try to make love and you declaim like school-boys. they laugh at such love in new orleans. don't you know that the first step toward making love to a woman is to interest her by something you do or say?"
"and haven't i interested you?" i asked.
"why, i can't say that you have. you have been very kind, and attentive, but i haven't seen anything surprising about you. ever since i came i have heard how smart you were, and i suppose you must have lorded it over those poor ignorant negroes."
"miss," said i, "i might be ready to drop at your feet and cover your shoes with kisses, but you musn't talk to me that way. what little learning i have, has been a source of reproach and trouble to me, and never have i attempted to show it off. i don't suppose i could say as much if i had been fed upon the hot mush of french romances."
she turned about and sat down, put forth her dainty foot, looked at it and said that hot mush was at all times to be preferred to cold slop. "won't you sit down?" she asked, turning her foot over so that i might see the exquisite arch of the instep. i sat down, though not beside her; and for a time i mused[pg 235] in silence upon the temper, the unhealthful fancy of the old maid who had presided over the mind of this fair creature. i knew that in her selection of a partner she would look high, but i knew also that her actions must ever be subservient to the will of an owner, invested with far more authority than that granted to a husband by our almost mock ceremony of marriage. but how high could she look? surely no higher than the plane upon which i stood. these reflections threw a dash of old earth into the countenance of my romance, and in bitterness i laughed at myself and at her.
"what has tickled you so?" she asked.
"two fools," i replied.
"two fools, or one fool big enough for two?"
"two fools," i repeated. "we are owned body and soul, and even sentiment, the gift of god, comes to mock us."
in an instant she had planted her feet firmly upon the ground and was standing in front of me. "i can begin to detect a glimmering of sense in you," she said. "in a negro's courtship there can be nothing absurd," she went on, flooding me with the light from her eyes. "an hour's acquaintance is as good as a year's close relationship. he is an animal looking for a mate and[pg 236] he makes his proposal of marriage. he may already have a dozen wives, it makes no difference, for neither law nor society takes any account of his relations with women. my mistress was a sensible woman, and she taught me to hate a negro marriage and i do hate it. i have the instincts of a lady and i refuse to be an animal. i saw at once that you were determined to ask me to be your wife and i am glad you have given me a chance to head you off."
strange talk for a maiden, there on a hill, under a cliff overlooking broad kentucky. i might have expected it from a wrinkled hag, a sibyl, but from this ripe and creamy maid it came as a blunt blow upon the head.
"there is truth in what you say," i was forced to admit, "but ours would not be a common negro marriage."
"no, but you are making the courtship characteristically negro. do you reflect upon how short a time we have known each other?"
"titine, this suddenness is not negro—it is impulse and romance. how long did romeo know juliet?"
"and what came of their love but death? dan, we can be good friends, brother and sister, but you must not ask me to go through with a mock ceremony, the[pg 237] sentimental joke of a plantation, and pretend that i am your wife. when we reflect upon our condition we must be miserable. education has made us unhappy, except when we lose our minds in a book; and to unite two miseries, two conditions of helplessness—a crime!" she cried. "yes, i have read french romances. year after year i sat beside my mistress and read to her and listened to her remarks upon the phases of life that came under our view. she called me precocious—a reflex of her own mind. my mind was apt and it stored many images and caught many a color from my surroundings, and—but what is the use of talking about myself?"
"titine, listen to me. something tells me that the world will not always be thus, holding the worshippers of nature in a grip of bondage—"
"hush!" she cried, putting her hands to her ears. "when you have changed the subject i will listen to you."
"you will listen now!" i cried, springing to my feet, grasping her hands, holding them tight, bending her backward, gazing into her eyes. "you will listen to me now." her eyes darted forked tongues at mine, and i liberated her. she smiled and sat down.[pg 238] "yes," she said sweetly, her anger vanishing, "i will listen to you now."
"first, let me beg your pardon."
"oh, another mockery. let us skip that. let me hear your speech; you are a lawyer."
"i will not make the speech of a lawyer, but of a lover."
"you can't love. you are a negro." she said this with bitterness and her laugh was cold.
"titine, even an animal can love."
"oh, for a season, yes; but nature does not make a mockery of an animal's love. the animal can seize its young and run away, but if the negro runs away to protect his young, he is brought back with the hounds. dan, i am going to live as my mistress did, and no man shall have a claim on me."
"but titine, you are a human being, you have passion, the sense of—"
"sense of justice to myself and to those who might come after me."
"titine, you are not a girl, you are a beautiful witch. you know too much for one of your age—your shrivelled old mistress left you her mind; and she is now watching you—"
"ugh!" she cried, putting out her hands, "don't say[pg 239] that. but if she does watch me she will see that i follow her commands."
"but her commands were against your interests. she would shut you out from all enjoyment, from sentiment and from love. thank her for her kindness but rebel against her exactions. be my wife."
"poor fool," she said, clasping her hands over her knee and gazing at me. "you are not a man to have a wife; you are a piece of property, and no matter how tightly i might cling to you, you could be torn from me and sold, and the howl of the auctioneer, yelling for another animal to be brought forward, would drown my cries of distress. oh, i have stood in the slave market, and i have seen a child snatched from the arms of its heart-broken mother. old mistress used to take me there to show me the bitterness of life. and you would be the father of a stock to be sold! poor fool, put your foot on such a thought." she rocked herself and laughed, and upon my soul, for a moment i fancied that she was a witch, endowed with a frightful wisdom; but a bough moved, the strong light fell upon her, and she sat there, warm, rich and human.
"have you given your strange views to miss may?"
[pg 240]
"there are two children in our family and one of them is miss may," she said.
"but don't you read to her?"
"yes, the 'children of the abbey' and let her cry herself to sleep. she is a child."
"titine, there is strange blood in you; you are cleopatra come to earth again; and the serpent of slavery is at your breast."
she shuddered.
"and it may suck out my life, but mine alone," she said.
"titine, a week ago i could not have believed it possible to be placed in such a position; i could not have believed that a creature like you existed in the world. the knowledge of slavery has always been a burden; you make it a snake and it bites me. but tell me, what are you going to do? are you going to spend your life in servitude?"
"who is there to take me away?" she asked, and the look she gave me stilled my blood, but it flowed again with a spurt, and leaping to my feet i ran to the edge of the cliff and looked far below, at the lengthening shadows, the crows sailing round and round, the cattle feeding in a distant meadow. i turned back to her. she did not look at me. i sat down beside her,[pg 241] sought to take her hand, but she moved and motioned me away.
"titine, once i thought i saw a hangman's rope—the maids have told you a part of the story—and money was thrown at me, but i would not run away so deeply was i devoted to bob gradley. i thought that the devil was trying to tempt me, but now i believe that the temptation comes from god."
"you have misunderstood me," she said, and her words were freezing. "i would not suggest a temptation; i would not run away with you. i will be frank—i don't love you, and if i did, i would not run away to be brought back in shame. let us be fellow servants, dan?"
"but is there no hope left in the world?"
"do you read the bible, and do you find hope there?"
"come, let us go home," i said.
