The Homesteader: A Novel
CHAPTER X
A DISCOVERY--AND A SURPRISE
Jean Baptiste called by to see the Merrills before leaving the city, andtook Mildred and her mother one afternoon to a matinee at the Colonialtheatre. It was a musical repertoire, and a delightful entertainment.Before one of the numbers was to appear, the director of the orchestracame upon the stage and announced:
"Ladies and gentlemen: If I may have your kind attention, I wish toannounce that the next number is an extraordinary specialty. Miss InezMaryland, the young prima donna who has made considerable of areputation by her beautiful singing in the last year, will thisafternoon sing in an introduction, a song that is destined by thecritics to be one of the most popular of recent production." Whereat, hestepped to one side, and led upon the stage, a charming blonde who wasgreeted profusely.
"I am glad to have you meet Miss Maryland, who will now sing thediscovery of the season, _O, My Homesteader_, by Miss Agnes Stewart."
In the moment Jean Baptiste did not quite recall the name, or rather, hedid not connect it with an instance in his life; but as the sweet mezzosoprano voice, combined with the strains of the orchestra, floated outover the audience, the years gone by, to him were recalled. He listenedto it with a peculiar and growing enchantment, and the night he had lainupon the ground and would have frozen, but for the now composer, camefresh again into his mind.
"Beautiful."
"Wonderful."
"Grand!" came to his ears from over all the theatre and then followedthe storm of applause. Again and again did the singer have to return tosatisfy the audience before her, and when the crowds poured into thestreet at the close of the performance, every one seemed to be hummingthe tune that had that afternoon began its initial success.
As it would take nine months or a year for the suit to come to trial,Jean resumed his efforts in the book business, and was able by borrowinga little, to meet the interest and taxes on the foreclosed property, andwas given the customary year's extension.
He traveled now from town to town, from city to city, and found agentsfor his book, and was able in a small way to recuperate his finances. Hehired an engine to plow all his land that was not prepared, besidesrenting a little more, and also took a flier in wheat. The war abroadhad been going on a year, and he conceived that if it "happened" to rainat the right time he _might_ get a crop and redeem his land. At least,he could lose only what he put into it by risking the same, so he tookthe chance. So with all he could get hold of until the last days ofOctober of that year, he put it into winter wheat on his land, andsucceeded in getting over 700 acres seeded.
And everywhere he went, the people were playing and singing _O, MyHomesteader_. Never, whether it was fifty times a day, or one, could heseem to tire of hearing it. At the stores he saw hundreds of copies ofit, and in every home it was. And always it took him back to hisyouthful days in the land where he had gone with the great hope. Andthen one day he saw a picture of her. It was in a musical review. Itspoke at length of her, and of the simple life she had lived. That shewas a product of the prairies and a wonderful future was in store forher because of the fact that her work was original.
So the winter passed and springtime came again with all its beauty, andhe continued in his book business. He made a trip to Gregory and Winnerto see what the prospects were again in the Northwest. The winter forthe wheat, he was cheered to learn, had been ideal; but the spring wasdry, and that was not to the wheat's advantage. However, he had the bestprospects he had had for years, and he returned to the book businesswith renewed hope.
* * * * *
And now we are compelled by the course of events to return to certaincharacters who were conspicuous in the early part of our story.
When Jack Stewart left the farm he had rented near the property of JeanBaptiste and went West and took a homestead and had George and Bill andAgnes to do likewise, he was obsessed with a dream that riches had cometo him at last. Agnes was delighted with the prospects, also, and sothey looked forward to a great future in the new land.
But there was something that troubled Jack Stewart, and for days whenalone he would shake his head and cry: "Dang it. Dang it! I oughtn't tohave let it go that far, dang it!" But he had kept what was now thecause of his worry to himself so long that he would not bring himself toconfess it even to Agnes after what had occurred. But never did heforget Jean Baptiste, and to Agnes he would mention him quite often.
"By the way, my girl," he said one day when they were settled on theirclaims, staying mostly on his, of course, for the prospects werehopeful. "Do you know that I never did learn who saved me from thatforeclosure. No, sir, I never did! I paid the note and was so glad thatit was paid, that I tore it up and forgot the whole matter.
"Now _who_ do you reckon it was that interceded for me?"
She paused and looked up from her sewing, and then bent over it again,as she said:
"Jean Baptiste."
"Jean Baptiste!" he exclaimed incredibly.
"It was him."
"Why the stinkin' rascal, he never told me!"
She was silent.
"And it was him that came to my assistance," the other musedreflectively. "Well, now since I come to recall him, it was just likehim to do something like that and keep it to himself. Well, well, I dosay!" He paused then, and looked down at the toe of his boot. Suddenlyhe looked up, and concentrated his gaze on Agnes.
"And _you knew_ it all the time. He told you."
"He didn't tell me."
"Didn't tell you!"
"I knew it when you returned home that morning."
"Well, well...."
"I was positive the administrator hadn't granted you an extension, norwouldn't have, so it must have been some one near. So who else could ithave been but Jean Baptiste."
"Of course not, now that I recall it; but did you tell him about it?"
Her eyes had business in her lap at the moment, _very_ much business.She saw the sewing and she didn't see it. What she was seeing again was_what had happened one day when she had gone to carry his and herbrother's luncheon_.... It passed before her, as it had done many timessince. _Never_, she knew, would she be able to forget _that day, thatday_ when the harvest was on, and he had said sweet words to her.... Itwas all past now, forever, but it was as fresh as the day it was done.
She understood why he had gone away, and when he returned and she hadseen his face she understood then his sacrifice. She knew that the man'shonor, his respect for his race and their struggle had brought him tocommit the sacrifice. And strangely, she loved him the more for it. Ithad been an evidence of his great courage, the great strength with whichhe was possessed. It was strange that the only man she, a white girl,had ever loved was a Negro, and now when that was history, it seemed torelieve her when she could recall that he had been a _man_.
"Did you hear me, Aggie?" her father called now again. She started.
"Why--yes, father--I heard you," she said, straightening up. "And--ofcourse--I told him about it...."
"Now I'm glad to hear that you did. It seems that you ought to have toldme at the time--at least before we left there, so that I could havethanked him." He was silent for a time then and reflective.
"I wonder what sort of woman he married," he mused after a time.
"I don't know."
"I am sometimes a little afraid that he didn't get the right kind ofwoman.
"He was such a prince of a good fellow, that it would most likely havebeen his luck to have gotten a woman who would betray him in some way.It is all rather strange, for I don't think he loved any woman but_you_, Aggie."
He darted his eyes quickly in her direction, recalling a time beforewhen he had intimated something of the kind. This time, however, she didnot cry out, but continued at her sewing as though he had not spoken.
As he slowly walked out, what was in his mind was the thing that hadworried him before.
She looked after him and sighed. It was her effort then to forget
thepast, and in so doing, the inspiration with regard to music came again,and developed in her mind. But her efforts had brought so littleencouragement from those to whom she had submitted her compositions thatshe for a long time despaired of making another effort.
So it was not until the great drought swept over the land and drovealmost all the settlers from their claims in a search for food, thatmade her again resort to the effort.
The drought was even worse in the part of the country they now calledhome than it had been in Tripp County and other parts farther East. Cornthat was planted under the sod one spring had actually not sprouted fortwo years, for the moisture that fell had never wet the earth that deep.So, after two years in which they came nearer to starvation than theyhad ever before, she secured a position in a hotel in a town fartherWest, and the money earned thereby, she gave to her father and brothersto live on.
It was then she had returned to compositions in a desperate effort andhope to save them from disaster. For a long time she met with the usualrejections, and it was a year or more before anything she composedreceived any notice.
But _O, My Homesteader_ was an instantaneous success. While she stillworked in the kitchen of the little hotel in the western village, theroyalties came pouring in upon her so fast until she could hardlybelieve it. And coincident with the same, she became the recipient ofnumerous offers from almost everywhere. Most were for compositions;while many were offers to go on the stage, at which she was compelled tolaugh. The very thought of her, a dishwasher in a country hotel, goingon the stage! But she resigned her position and went back to her fatherand brothers on the farm. She used her money to pay off their debts andstarted them to farming, and made herself contented with staying on asshe had done before, and keeping house for her father and the boys. Sherefused to submit any more manuscripts until the success of her firstsong was growing old, and then she released others which followed with ameasure of success.
The offers from the East persisted; and with them, drought in the Westcontinued and they saw that trying to farm so far west was, for thepresent time, at least, impractical. So they returned to Gregory whereshe purchased the place they had lived on. Owing to the fact that thedrought had been severe there, also, she secured the place at a fairbargain, and they returned to farming the summer following thepublication of Baptiste's book.
When she read it, she hardly knew what to think; but it was ratherunusual she thought, because he had told a true story in every detail;but had chosen to leave his experiences with her out of it. She heard ofhim, and the disaster that had overcome him, and was sorry. She feltthat if she could only help him in some way, it would give her relief.And so the time passed, and he came again into her life in a strange andmysterious manner.
She was surprised one day to receive a visit in person from thepublisher of her works. She was, to say the least, also flattered. Hehad come direct from Chicago to persuade her to come to the city, andwhile she was flattered and was really anxious to see the city, sherefrained from going, but promised to write more music.
In the months that followed, he wrote to her, and the experience wasnew. Then his letters grew serious, and later she received the surprise.He came again to see her and proposed. She hardly knew how to accept it,but he was so persistent. To be offered the love of a man of such atype, carried her off her feet, and she made him promise to wait.
He was very patient about it, and at last she concluded that while shedid not feel that she really loved him yet, she was a woman, and growingno younger, and, besides, he was a successful publisher and the matchseemed logical. So after some months in which she tried to make herselfappear like the woman she knew he wished her to be, she accepted, butleft the date for their wedding indefinite.