The Quest of the Silver Fleece: A Novel

  _Twenty-two_

  MISS CAROLINE WYNN

  Bles Alwyn was seated in the anteroom of Senator Smith's office inWashington. The Senator had not come in yet, and there were otherswaiting, too.

  The young man sat in a corner, dreaming. Washington was his first greatcity, and it seemed a never-ending delight--the streets, the buildings,the crowds; the shops, and lights, and noise; the kaleidoscopic panoramaof a world's doing, the myriad forms and faces, the talk and laughter ofmen. It was all wonderful magic to the country boy, and he stretched hisarms and filled his lungs and cried: "Here I shall live!"

  Especially was he attracted by his own people. They seemed transformed,revivified, changed. Some might be mistaken for field hands on aholiday--but not many. Others he did not recognize--they seemed strangeand alien--sharper, quicker, and at once more overbearing and moreunscrupulous.

  There were yet others--and at the sight of these Bles stood straighterand breathed like a man. They were well dressed, and well appearing menand women, who walked upright and looked one in the eye, and seemed likepersons of affairs and money. They had arrived--they were men--theyfilled his mind's ideal--he felt like going up to them and graspingtheir hands and saying, "At last, brother!" Ah, it was good to findone's dreams, walking in the light, in flesh and blood. Continually suchthoughts were surging through his brain, and they were rioting throughit again as he sat waiting in Senator Smith's office.

  The Senator was late this morning; when he came in he glanced at themorning paper before looking over his mail and the list of his callers."Do fools like the American people deserve salvation?" he sneered,holding off the headlines and glancing at them.

  "'League Beats Trust.' ... 'Farmers of South Smash Effort to Bear Market... Send Cotton to Twelve Cents ... Common People Triumph.'

  "A man is induced to bite off his own nose and then to sing a paean ofvictory. It's nauseating--senseless. There is no earthly use strivingfor such blockheads; they'd crucify any Saviour." Thus half consciouslySenator Smith salved his conscience, while he extracted a certificate ofdeposit for fifty thousand dollars from his New York mail. He thrust itaside from his secretary's view and looked at his list as he rang thebell: there was Representative Todd, and somebody named Alwyn--nobody ofimportance. Easterly was due in a half-hour. He would get rid of Toddmeantime.

  "Poor Todd," he mused; "a lamb for the slaughter."

  But he patiently listened to him plead for party support and influencefor his bill to prohibit gambling in futures.

  "I was warned that it was useless to see you, Senator Smith, but I wouldcome. I believe in you. Frankly, there is a strong group of your oldfriends and followers forming against you; they met only last night, butI did not go. Won't you take a stand on some of these progressivematters--this bill, or the Child Labor movement, or Low Tarifflegislation?"

  Mr. Smith listened but shook his head.

  "When the time comes," he announced deliberately, "I shall havesomething to say on several of these matters. At present I can only saythat I cannot support this bill," and Mr. Todd was ushered out. He metMr. Easterly coming in and greeted him effusively. He knew him only as arich philanthropist, who had helped the Neighborhood Guild inWashington--one of Todd's hobbies.

  Easterly greeted Smith quietly.

  "Got my letter?"

  "Yes."

  "Here are the three bills. You will go on the Finance Committeetomorrow; Sumdrich is chairman by courtesy, but you'll have the realpower. Put the Child Labor Bill first, and we'll work the press. TheTariff will take most of the session, of course. We'll put the cottoninspection bill through in the last days of the session--see? I'mmanoeuvring to get the Southern Congressmen into line.... Oh, one thing.Thompson says he's a little worried about the Negroes; says there'ssomething more than froth in the talk of a bolt in the Northern Negrovote. We may have to give them a little extra money and a few more minoroffices than usual. Talk with Thompson; the Negroes are sweet on you andhe's going to be the new chairman of the campaign, you know. Ever methim?"

  "Yes."

  "Well--so long."

  "Just a moment," the statesman stayed the financier.

  "Todd just let fall something of a combination against us inCongress--know anything of it?"

  "Not definitely; I heard some rumors. Better see if you can run it down.Well, I must hurry--good day."

  While Bles Alwyn in the outer office was waiting and musing, a ladycame in. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the curve of her gown,and as she seated herself beside him, the suggestion of a faint perfume.A vague resentment rose in him. Colored women would look as well asthat, he argued, with the clothes and wealth and training. He paused,however, in his thought: he did not want them like the whites--so coldand formal and precise, without heart or marrow. He started up, for thesecretary was speaking to him.

  "Are you the--er--the man who had a letter to the Senator?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Let me see it. Oh, yes--he will see you in a moment."

  Bles was returning the letter to his pocket when he heard a voice almostat his ear.

  "I beg your pardon--"

  He turned and started. It was the lady next to him, and she was colored!Not extremely colored, but undoubtedly colored, with waving black hair,light brown skin, and the fuller facial curving of the darker world. Andyet Bles was surprised, for everything else about her--her voice, herbearing, the set of her gown, her gloves and shoes, the whole impressionwas--Bles hesitated for a word--well, "white."

  "Yes--yes, ma'am," he stammered, becoming suddenly conscious that thelady had now a second time asked him if he was acquainted with SenatorSmith. "That is, ma'am,"--why was he saying "ma'am," like a child or aservant?--"I know his sister and have a letter for him."

  "Do you live in Washington?" she inquired.

  "No--but I want to. I've been trying to get in as a clerk, and I haven'tsucceeded yet. That's what I'm going to see Senator Smith about."

  "Have you had the civil-service examinations?"

  "Yes. I made ninety-three in the examination for a treasury clerkship."

  "And no appointment? I see--they are not partial to us there."

  Bles was glad to hear her say "us."

  She continued after a pause:

  "May I venture to ask a favor of you?"

  "Certainly," he responded.

  "My name is Wynn," lowering her voice slightly and leaning toward him."There are so many ahead of me and I am in a hurry to get to my school;but I must see the Senator--couldn't I go in with you? I think I mightbe of service in this matter of the examination, and then perhaps I'dget a chance to say a word for myself."

  "I'd be very glad to have you come," said Bles, cordially.

  The secretary hesitated a little when the two started in, but MissWynn's air was so quietly assured that he yielded.

  Senator Smith looked at the tall, straight black man with his smoothskin and frank eyes. And for a second time that morning a vision of hisown youth dimmed his eyes. But he spoke coldly:

  "Mr. Alwyn, I believe."

  "Yes, sir."

  "And--"

  "My friend, Miss Wynn."

  The Senator glanced at Miss Wynn and she bowed demurely. Then he turnedto Alwyn.

  "Well, Mr. Alwyn, Washington is a bad place to start in the world."

  Bles looked surprised and incredulous. He could conceive of no finerstarting-place, but he said nothing.

  "It is a grave," continued the Senator, "of ambitions and ideals. Youwould far better go back to Alabama"--pausing and looking at the youngman keenly--"but you won't--you won't--not yet, at any rate." And Blesshook his head slowly.

  "No--well, what can I do for you?"

  "I want work--I'll do anything."

  "No, you'll do one thing--be a clerk, and then if you have the rightstuff in you you will throw up that job in a year and start again."

  "I'd like at least to try it, sir."

  "Well, I can't help you much there; that's in civil-service
, and youmust take the examination."

  "I have, sir."

  "So? Where, and what mark?"

  "In the Treasury Department; I got a mark of ninety-three."

  "What!--and no appointment?" The Senator was incredulous.

  "No, sir; not yet."

  Here Miss Wynn interposed.

  "You see, Senator," she said, "civil-service rules are not alwaysimpervious to race prejudice."

  The Senator frowned.

  "Do you mean to intimate that Mr. Alwyn's appointment is held up becausehe is colored?"

  "I do."

  "Well--well!" The Senator rang for a clerk.

  "Get me the Treasury on the telephone."

  In a moment the bell rang.

  "I want Mr. Cole. Is that you, Mr. Cole? Good-morning. Have you a youngman named Alwyn on your eligible list? What? Yes?" A pause. "Indeed?Well, why has he no appointment? Of course, I know, he's a Negro. Yes, Idesire it very much--thank you."

  "You'll get an appointment to-morrow morning," and the Senator rose."How is my sister?" he asked absently.

  "She was looking worried, but hopeful of the new endowment when I left."The Senator held out his hand; Bles took it and then remembered.

  "Oh, I beg pardon, but Miss Wynn wanted a word on another matter."

  The Senator turned to Miss Wynn.

  "I am a school-teacher, Senator Smith, and like all the rest of us I amdeeply interested in the appointment of the new school-board."

  "But you know the district committee attends to those things," said theSenator hastily. "And then, too, I believe there is talk of abolishingthe school-board and concentrating power in the hands of thesuperintendent."

  "Precisely," said Miss Wynn. "And I came to tell you, Senator Smith,that the interests which are back of this attack upon the schools are nofriends of yours." Miss Wynn extracted from her reticule a typewrittenpaper.

  He took the paper and read it intently. Then he keenly scrutinized theyoung woman, and she steadily returned his regard.

  "How am I to know this is true?"

  "Follow it up and see."

  He mused.

  "Where did you get these facts?" he asked suddenly.

  She smiled.

  "It is hardly necessary to say."

  "And yet," he persisted, "if I were sure of its source I would know myground better and--my obligation to you would be greater."

  She laughed and glanced toward Alwyn. He had moved out of earshot andwas waiting by the window.

  "I am a teacher in the M Street High School," she said, "and we havesome intelligent boys there who work their way through."

  "Yes," said the Senator.

  "Some," continued Miss Wynn, tapping her boot on the carpet, "some--waiton table."

  The Senator slowly put the paper in his pocket.

  "And now," he said, "Miss Wynn, what can I do for you?"

  She looked at him.

  "If Judge Haynes is reappointed to the school-board I shall probablycontinue to teach in the M Street High School," she said slowly.

  The Senator made a memorandum and said:

  "I shall not forget Miss Wynn--nor her friends." And he bowed, glancingat Alwyn.

  The woman contemplated Bles in momentary perplexity, then bowing inturn, left. Bles followed, debating just what he ought to say, how farhe might venture to accompany her, what--but she easily settled it all.

  "I thank you--good-bye," she said briefly at the door, and was gone.Bles did not know whether to feel relieved or provoked, or disappointed,and by way of compromise felt something of all three.

  The next morning he received notice of his appointment to a clerkship inthe Treasury Department, at a salary of nine hundred dollars. The sumseemed fabulous and he was in the seventh heaven. For many days theconsciousness of wealth, the new duties, the street scenes, and the citylife kept him more than busy. He planned to study, and arranged with aprofessor at Howard University to guide him. He bought an armful ofbooks and a desk, and plunged desperately to work.

  Gradually as he became used to the office routine, and in the hours whenhe was weary of study, he began to find time hanging a little heavily onhis hands; indeed--although he would not acknowledge it--he was gettinglonesome, homesick, amid the myriad men of a busy city. He argued tohimself that this was absurd, and yet he knew that he was longing forhuman companionship. When he looked about him for fellowship he foundhimself in a strange dilemma: those black folk in whom he recognized theold sweet-tempered Negro traits, had also looser, uglier manners than hewas accustomed to, from which he shrank. The upper classes of Negroes,on the other hand, he still observed from afar; they were strangers notonly in acquaintance but because of a curious coldness and aloofnessthat made them cease to seem his own kind; they seemed almost at timeslike black white people--strangers in way and thought.

  He tried to shake off this feeling but it clung, and at last in sheerdesperation, he promised to go out of a night with a fellow clerk whorather boasted of the "people" he knew. He was soon tired of thestrange company, and had turned to go home, when he met a newcomer inthe doorway.

  "Why, hello, Sam! Sam Stillings!" he exclaimed delightedly, and was soongrasping the hand of a slim, well-dressed man of perhaps thirty, withyellow face, curling hair, and shifting eyes.

  "Well, of all things, Bles--er--ah--Mr. Alwyn! Thought you were hoeingcotton."

  Bles laughed and continued shaking his head. He was foolishly glad tosee the former Cresswell butler, whom he had known but slightly. Hisface brought back unuttered things that made his heart beat faster and ayearning surge within him.

  "I thought you went to Chicago," cried Bles.

  "I did, but goin' into politics--having entered the political field, Icame here. And you graduated, I suppose, and all that?"

  "No," Bless admitted a little sadly, as he told of his coming north, andof Senator Smith's influence. "But--but how are--all?"

  Abruptly Sam hooked his arm into Alwyn's and pulled him with him downthe street. Stillings was a type. Up from servility and menial servicehe was struggling to climb to money and power. He was shrewd, willing tostoop to anything in order to win. The very slights and humiliations ofprejudice he turned to his advantage. When he learned all theparticulars of Alwyn's visit to Senator Smith and his cordial receptionhe judged it best to keep in touch with this young man, and he forthwithinvited Bles to accompany him the next night to the Fifteenth StreetPresbyterian Church.

  "You'll find the best people there," he said; "the aristocracy. TheTreble Clef gives a concert, and everybody that's anybody will bethere."

  They met again the following evening and proceeded to the church. It wasa simple but pleasant auditorium, nearly filled with well-dressedpeople. During the programme Bles applauded vociferously every numberthat pleased him, which is to say, every one--and stamped his feet,until he realized that he was attracting considerable attention tohimself. Then the entertainment straightway lost all its charm; he grewpainfully embarrassed, and for the remainder of the evening wasawkwardly self-conscious. When all was over, the audience rose leisurelyand stood in little knots and eddies, laughing and talking; many movedforward to say a word to the singers and players, Stillings steppedaside to a group of men, and Bles was left miserably alone. A man cameto him, a white-faced man, with slightly curling close gray hair, andhigh-bred ascetic countenance.

  "You are a stranger?" he asked pleasantly, and Bles liked him.

  "Yes, sir," he answered, and they fell to talking. He discovered thatthis was the pastor of the church.

  "Do you know no one in town?"

  "One or two of my fellow clerks and Mr. Stillings. Oh, yes, I've metMiss Wynn."

  "Why, here is Miss Wynn now."

  Bles turned. She was right behind him, the centre of a group. Sheturned, slowly, and smiled.

  "Oh!" she uttered twice, but with difference cadence. Then somethinglike amusement lurked a moment in her eye, and she quietly presentedBles to her friends, while Stillings hovered unnoticed in
the offing:

  "Miss Jones--Mr. Alwyn of--" she paused a second--"Alabama. MissTaylor--Mr. Alwyn--and," with a backward curving of her neck, "Mr.Teerswell," and so on. Mr. Teerswell was handsome and indolent, withindecision in his face and a cynical voice. In a moment Bles felt thesubtle antagonism of the group. He was an intruder. Mr. Teerswell noddedeasily and turned away, continuing his conversation with the ladies.

  But Miss Wynn was perverse and interrupted. "I saw you enjoyed theconcert, Mr. Alwyn," she said, and one of the young ladies rippledaudibly. Bles darkened painfully, realizing that these people must havebeen just behind him. But he answered frankly:

  "Yes, I did immensely--I hope I didn't disturb you; you see, I'm notused to hearing such singing."

  Mr. Teerswell, compelled to listen, laughed drily.

  "Plantation melodies, I suppose, are more your specialty," he said witha slight cadence.

  "Yes," said Bles simply. A slight pause ensued.

  Then came the surprise of the evening for Bles Alwyn. Even hisinexperienced eye could discern that Miss Wynn was very popular, andthat most of the men were rivals for her attentions.

  "Mr. Alwyn," she said graciously, rising. "I'm going to trouble you tosee me to my door; it's only a block. Good-night, all!" she called, butshe bowed to Mr. Teerswell.

  Miss Wynn placed her hand lightly on Bles's arm, and for a moment hepaused. A thrill ran through him as he felt again the weight of a littlehand and saw beside him the dark beautiful eyes of a girl. He felt againthe warm quiver of her body. Then he awoke to the lighted church and themoving, well-dressed throng. The hand on his arm was not so small; butit was well-gloved, and somehow the fancy struck him that it was a coldhand and not always sympathetic in its touch.