Carolina Lee

  CHAPTER XIII.

  GUILDFORD

  Carolina never forgot that morning. She was up at four o'clock, and, bya previous arrangement with old Aunt Calla, the cook, she had a cup ofcoffee at dawn. Aunt Calla brought it into the dining-room herself.

  "'Scuse me, honey, fer waiting awn you myself, but do you reckon I could'a' got dat no 'count fool, Lily, to git up en wait awn ennybody at distime in de mawnin'? Not ef she knowed huh soul gwine be saved by doin'it. Dese yere chillen ob mine is too fine to wuk lake dere mammy does."

  "But how did you manage to wake up so early?" asked Carolina.

  "Lawd, honey, I'se done nussed sick chillen tell I sleeps wid one eyeopen from habit. En when I see what a pretty day it gwine turn out, enwhen I see dat en de fust five minutes you laid eyes awn him, you donecotched de beau what half de young ladies in Souf Calliny done set derecaps for, I says to myself, 'Ole 'ooman, ef you wants to see courtin' asis courtin', you jes' hump doze ole rheumatiz laigs ob yours, en get dar'fore dey suspicion it demselves!' Law, Mis' Calline, how you isblushing! Ump! ump!"

  "Here, Aunt Calla, take this for your trouble, and go and see if Mr. LaGrange has come," cried Carolina.

  "Why, Mis' Calline, dis yere will buy me a new bunnet! Thank you,_ma'am_. Yas'm, dah he is! I kin tell de way Mist' Moultrie rides widmy eyes shut. He rides lake one ob dese yere centipedes!"

  Old Calla made it a point to see the riders mount. The sun was justcoming into view, sending the mists rolling upwards in silvery clouds,when Carolina stepped out of the door. Her habit was of a bluishviolet, so dark that it was almost black. It matched the colour of hereyes. Her hair caught the tinge of the sun and held it in its shiningmeshes.

  Moultrie La Grange was waiting for her at the foot of the steps.

  He held the mare Araby by the bridle, and leaned on the saddle of hisown mare, Scintilla, shielding his eyes.

  "Good morning,--Moultrie."

  "Is that you, Miss Carolina? The sun, or something blinds me."

  Carolina had heard it all many times before. Why, then, this difference?She pretended to herself that she did not know, but she did know, andwas happy in the knowing. He was so handsome! She gloried in his looks.She felt as she had felt when she stood before the Hermes of Praxiteles,and wondered, if such glorious beauty should ever come to life, how shecould _bear_ it!

  Moultrie La Grange was not considered handsome by everybody. His beautywas too cold--too aloof--for the multitude to appreciate. But does theordinary tourist go to Olympia?

  Carolina had rather dreaded the four miles to Enterprise, if their wayshould lie over the dusty highway of yesterday. But she was notsurprised; in fact, it seemed in keeping with what she had expected ofhim when he struck off through the woods, and she found herself, notonly on the most perfect animal she had ever ridden, but in an enchantedforest.

  Moultrie led the way both in conversation and in direction, and Carolinafound herself glad to follow. His sarcasm, his wit, and the poetry ofhis nature were displayed without affectation. She kept looking at himeagerly, gladly, and yet expectantly. What was she waiting for? Hediscussed men but not deeds; amusements but not occupation; designs butnot achievements. She wondered what he did with his time. He wasstrong, magnetic, gentle, charming. His voice was melodious. His mannerfull of the fineness of the old South.

  Yet there was a vague lack in him somewhere. He just failed to come upto her ideal of what a man should be. Wherein lay this intangible lack?

  Suddenly they emerged from the woods and struck the highway, and inanother moment they were in Enterprise.

  Not a breath of life was anywhere visible. Although it was six o'clock,not a wreath of smoke curled upward from any chimney. They rode throughthe sleeping town in silence.

  "Now here," said Moultrie, "is a very remarkable town. It is, I maysay, the only town in the world which is completely finished. Mosttowns grow, but not a nail has been driven in Enterprise, to myknowledge, since I was born. This town is perfectly satisfactory to itsinhabitants _just as it is_!"

  Against her will Carolina laughed. His tone was irresistible.

  "Ought you to make fun of your own--your home town?" she asked.

  "My more than that! Enterprise yields me my bread--sometimes."

  Carolina looked at him. He pointed with his whip at the shed on therailroad platform.

  "I am telegraph operator there six months in the year. I teach acountry school in winter."

  If he had struck her in the face with that same riding-whip, the redwould not have flamed into Carolina's cheeks with more sudden fury. Shedug her spurless heel into Araby's side, and the mare jumped with aswerve which would have unseated most riders. Moultrie looked at her inswift admiration, but she would not look at him. She struck her horse,and, with a mighty stride, Araby got the lead and kept it for a mile,even from Scintilla. Then the man overtook her and reached out and laida hand on Carolina's bridle hand, and looked deep into her eyes andsaid:

  "Why did you do that? Why did you try to escape from me? Don't youknow that you _never can_?"

  And all the time Carolina's heart was beating heavily against her side,and her brain was spinning out the question over and over, over andover:

  "Oh, how can he? How can he be satisfied with that? How can he endurehimself!"

  It was not the lack of money, it was the lack of ambition in the man ather side, which stung her pride until it bled.

  "Better go West on a cattle ranch," she thought, with bitter passion."Better hunt wolves for the government. Better take the trail with theIndians than to lie down and rot in such a manner! And _such_ a man!"

  But suddenly a realization came to her of how marked her resentmentwould seem to him if he should discover its cause, and she hastened toplay a part. But he was in no danger of discovering, because he did noteven suspect. All the young fellows he knew, no matter how aristocratictheir names, were at work for mere pittances at employments noself-respecting men would tolerate for a moment, because they offered nohope of betterment or promotion. Men with the talent to become lawyers,artists, bankers, and brokers were teaching school for less than Irishbricklayers get in large cities. Therefore, it could not be allegedthat they were incapable of earning more or of occupying more dignifiedpositions. It was simply the lack of ambition--the inertia of theSouth--which they could not shake off. It is the heritage of theSouthern-born.

  Presently Moultrie again pointed with his whip:

  "Over yonder is Sunnymede, our place. Poor old Sunnymede! Mortgaged toits eyes, and with all its turpentine and timber gone! Guildford isintact. We just skirt the edge of Sunnymede riding to Guildford. Andright where you see that tall blasted pine standing by itself is where Imade one of my usual failures. I'm like the man with the ugly mule, whoalways backed. He said if he could only hitch that mule with his headto the wagon, he could get there. So, if my failures were only turnedwrong side out, I'd be wealthy."

  Carolina tried to smile. Moultrie continued:

  "Once I thought I'd try to make some money, so I sold some timber to aYankee firm who wanted fine cypress, and with the money I constructed aterrapin crawl. I knew how expensive terrapin are, and, if there is onething I do know about, it is terrapin. So I canned a few prize-winners,and sent them to New York, and got word that they would take all I couldsend. Well, with that I began to feel like a Jay Gould. I could justsee myself drinking champagne and going to the opera every night. So Iimmediately raised some mo' money in the same way,--out of theYankees,--organized a small company, and built a canning factory. Thelumber company was interested with me and advanced me all the money Iwanted. So I got the thing well started, and left special word with theforeman, a cracker named Sharpe, to be sure and not can the claws, thenI went off to New York to enjoy myself. I stayed until all my money wasgone and then came home, intending to enjoy the wealth my foreman hadbuilt up in my absence. But what do you r
eckon that fool had done? Why,he had turned the work over to the niggers, and they had canned theterrapin just so,--claws, eyebrows, and all! Well, of course, the NewYork people went back on me,--wrote me the most impudent letters I evergot from anybody. It just showed me that Yankees can never hope to beconsidered gentlemen. Why, they acted as if I had cheated them! Saidthey had advertised largely on my samples, and had lost money and creditby my dishonest trickery. Just as if _I_ were to blame! Then, ofcourse, the Yankee lumbermen got mad, too, and foreclosed the mortgageand liquidated the company, and left me as poor as when I went in. Ibelieve they even declare that I owe them money. Did you ever hear ofsuch a piece of impudence?"

  "Never," said Carolina, coolly, "if you mean on your part! You dideverything that was wrong and nothing that was right. And the worst ofit is that you are morally blind to your share of the blame."

  "Why, Miss Carolina, what do you mean? I didn't go to lose their money.It hit me just as hard as it did them. I didn't make a cent."

  "But the money that you lost wasn't yours to lose," cried Carolina,hotly.

  "No, but I didn't do wrong intentionally. You can't blame a man for amistake."

  "There is such a thing as criminal negligence," said the girl,deliberately. "You had no business to trust an affair where your honourwas pledged to an incompetent cracker foreman, and go to New York on thecompany's money, even if you did think you would earn the money to payit back. How do you ever expect to pay it?"

  "I don't expect to pay it at all, and I reckon those Yankees don'texpect it, either."

  "No, I don't suppose they do," said Carolina, bitterly.

  "Well, if they are satisfied to lose it, and have forgotten all aboutit, would you bother to pay it back if you were in my place?"

  "I would pay it back if I had to pay it out of my life insurance and beburied in a pine coffin in the potter's field! And as to thoseNortherners having forgotten it,--don't you believe it! They havesimply laid it to what they call the to-be-expected dishonesty of theSouth when dealing with the North. The South calls it 'keeping theireyes peeled,' 'being wide-awake,' 'not being caught napping,' or catchphrases of that order. But the strictly honest business man calls itdishonest trickery, and mentally considers all Southerners inoculatedwith its poison. Do you know what Southern credit is worth in theNorth?"

  Moultrie only looked sulky, but Carolina went on, spurred by her owndespair and disillusionment.

  "Well, you wouldn't be proud of it if you did! And just such a tolerantview of a thoroughly wrong transaction as you have thus divulged isresponsible. Colonel Yancey was right. The South is heart-breaking!"

  "Do you care so much?" asked Moultrie, softly.

  Carolina lifted herself so proudly that the mare danced under her. Shesaw that she had gone too far. She also felt that error had mocked her.She had despaired of Moultrie's blind and false point of view when theLight of the world was at hand. Immediately her thought flew upwards.

  But with Carolina absorbed in her work, and Moultrie puzzling over thesudden changes in her behaviour, it could not be said that the remainderof the ride was proving as pleasant as each had hoped. However, aperfect day, a fine animal, and the spirits of youth and enthusiasm arenot to be ignored for long, and presently Carolina began to feelGuildford in the air. She looked inquiringly at Moultrie, and heanswered briefly:

  "In another mile." But there was a look in his eyes which madeCarolina's heart beat, for it was the glance of comprehension which onesoul flings to another in passing,--sometimes never to meet again,sometimes which leads to mating.

  In another five minutes Moultrie raised his arm.

  "There!"

  Carolina reined in and Araby stood, tossing her slim head, raising herhoofs, champing her bit, and snuffing at the breeze which came to herred nostrils, laden with the breath of piny woods and balsam. Moultrie,sitting at parade rest on Scintilla and watching Carolina catch herbreath almost with a sob, said to himself: "She feels just as that horseacts."

  Carolina could find no words, nor did she dare trust herself. She wasafraid she would break down. She lifted her gauntleted hand and thehorses drew together and moved forward.

  For more than a mile an avenue as wide as a boulevard led in a straightline, lined on each side by giant live-oaks. Ragged, unkempt shrubbery,the neglect of a lifetime, destroyed the perfectness of the avenue, butthe majesty of those monarchs of trees could not be marred. The sun wasonly about an hour high, and the rays came slantingly across meadowswhose very grasses spoke of fertility and richness. The glint of theriver occasionally flashed across their vision, and between thebird-notes, in the absolute stillness, came the whispering of thedistant tide.

  At the end of the avenue lay the ruined stones of Guildford.

  Carolina sprang down, flung her bridle-rein to Moultrie, and ranforward. She would not let him see her eyes. But she stumbled once,and by that he knew that she was crying. They were, however, tears ofjoy and thanksgiving. Guildford! Her foot was on its precious turf.These stones had once been her father's home. And she was free, young,strong, and empowered to build it up, a monument to the memory of herancestors. Every word which Mrs. Goddard had prophesied had come true,and Carolina's first thought was a repetition of her words:

  "See what Divine Love hath wrought!"

  When she came back, instead of a tear-stained face, Moultrie saw one ofsuch radiance that her beauty seemed dazzling. Where could be foundsuch tints of colouring, such luminous depths in eyes, such tendrils ofcurling hair, such a flash of teeth, such vivid lips, and such aspeaking smile? As he bent to receive her foot in his hand, he trembledthrough all his frame, and, as he felt her light spring to her mare'sback, he would not have been at all surprised to discover that she hadsimply floated upward and vanished from his earthly sight to join herwinged kindred. But, as she gathered up her reins and watched himmount, it was a very businesslike angel who spoke to him, and one whosebrain, if the truth must be told, was full of turpentine.

  "Now, let's explore," she said. "I have paid my respects to the shrineof my forefathers, now let's see what I have to sell my turpentinefarmers."

  "Your what?" asked the man, with the amused smile a man saves for thepretty woman who talks business.

  "I am going to sell the orchard turpentine rights of Guildford to getmoney for building," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

  "And I was thinking of you in a white robe playing a harp!" he said,with a groan.

  "I often wear a white robe, and I play a harp quite commendably,considering that I have studied it since I was nine years old, but whenI am working, I don't wear my wings. They get in my way."

  Carolina by instinct rode to an elevation which commanded a view of thepine forests of Guildford.

  "How much do I own?" she asked.

  "As far as you can see in that direction. Over here your property runsinto ours just where you see that broad gap."

  "Why don't you rebuild Sunnymede?"

  "No money!" he said, with a shrug.

  "You have plenty of fallen timber and acres of stumpage to sell to thepatent turpentine people."

  "I don't know. I have never heard it discussed. We wouldn't sell toYankees. We feel that we wouldn't have come to grief with the terrapinaffair if we had been dealing with Southerners."

  "Who are there to discuss? Who owns it with you?" asked Carolina,calmly ignoring the absurdity of his remarks.

  "My brother and sister--" He paused abruptly, and then said: "You aresure to hear it from others, so I will tell you myself. The La Grangefamily skeleton shall be shown to you by no less a hand than my own! Mybrother has made a very--I hardly know what to call it. It is anunfortunate marriage, since no one knows who the girl is. When you sawme in New York, I was hoping to prevent their marriage, but it was toolate. They had eloped and had been married immediately on arriving inNew York. As soon as her aunt, with whom she lived, learned that Flowerhad eloped with my brother, she sent for me. She had bee
n a greatinvalid, and the excitement had upset her so that when I arrived shelooked as if she had not an hour to live. She caught me by the arm andsaid: 'Flower must not marry a La Grange. She is not my niece nor anyrelative of mine. Her mother was--' and with that her speech failed.She struggled as I never saw a being struggle to speak the one wordmore,--the one word needful,--and, failing, she fell back against herpillow--dead!"

  Carolina's face showed her horror. He felt soothed by her understandingand went on, in a low, pained voice.

  "It ruined my life. And it has ruined Winfield's."

  "And the girl," said Carolina, in a tense voice, "Flower!"

  "It has ruined hers. They are the most unhappy couple I ever saw. Andmore so since the baby came."

  "It will all come right," declared Carolina, straightening herself."You will discover that Flower is entitled to a name, and that yourworst fears are incorrect."

  "My worst fears--" began Moultrie. Then he stopped abruptly. "I cannotexplain them to you," he said.

  "I know what you mean. But remember that I, too, have seen Flower. Isaw her that day, and I say to you that not one drop of negro bloodflows in that girl's veins, and your brother's child is safe."

  "You think so?" he exclaimed, moved by the earnestness of her voice andthe calm conviction of her manner. Then he shook his head.

  "It seems too good to be true."

  "I can understand," she said, "the terrible strain you are all under,but, believe me, it will all come out right."

  "They think the baby is bewitched,--that he has been voodooed,--if youknow what that means. The negroes declare that an evil spirit can beseen moving around whatever spot the child inhabits."

  "What utter nonsense!" cried Carolina. "I hope your brother has toomuch sense, too much religion, to encourage such a belief."

  "My poor brother believes that the devil has marked him for his own."

  "Does your brother believe in a devil?" asked Carolina.

  "Why, don't you?" asked Moultrie, in a shocked tone.

  "I was not aware that any enlightened person did nowadays," answeredCarolina, with a lift of her chin.

  The movement irritated her companion far more than her words, just asCarolina had intended it to.

  There are some subjects which cannot be argued. They must be obliteratedby a contempt which bites into one's self-love.

  The mare saved the situation by a soft whinny. She turned her headexpectantly, and, following her eyes, the riders saw the tall, lithefigure of a man making his way toward them through the underbrush.Moultrie gave vent to an exclamation.

  "What is it?" asked Carolina.

  "Oh, only a bad negro who haunts places where he has no business to. Heis a perfect wonder with horses, and broke in that mare you are riding,who will follow him anywhere without a bridle, pushing her nose underhis arm like any dog who thrusts a muzzle into your palm. He is alwaysup to something. From present appearances, I should say that he hadprobably been bleeding your trees."

  The negro, hearing voices, stopped, glanced in their direction, andpromptly disappeared. Carolina only had time to notice that he was veryblack, but she followed him in thought, mentally denying dishonesty anddeclaring that harm could not come to her through error in any form.

  She was struck, too, by the manner in which her sensitive, high-bredmare lifted her pretty head and looked after his retreating form, pawingthe earth impatiently and sending out little snuffling neighs which werehardly more than bleatings. Surely, if a man had the power to call forthdevoted love from such an animal, there must be much good in him!

  "What makes you so quiet?" asked Moultrie, breaking in on her thought.

  Carolina looked at him abruptly and decided her course of action.

  "You have told me of the skeleton in your closet. Let me be equallyfrank and tell you of mine. I am a Christian Scientist."

  "A what?"

  "A Christian Scientist!"

  "I never heard of one," said the young man, simply. "What is it?"

  For the second time the girl's face flushed with a vicariousmortification.

  "It is a new form of religion founded on a perfect belief in the life ofChrist and a literal following of His commandments to His disciples,regardless of time," said Carolina, slowly.

  Moultrie allowed a deep silence to follow her words. Then he drew along breath.

  "I think I should like that," he said. "Does it answer all yourquestions?"

  "All! Every one of them!" she answered, with the almost too eagermanner of the young believer in Christian Science. But an eagerness toimpart good news and to relieve apparent distress should be readilyforgiven by a self-loving humanity. Curiously, however, the most blatantego is generally affronted by it.

  "I was raised a Baptist," he said, reluctantly, "but I reckon I neverwas a very good one, for I never got any peace from it."

  "My religion gives peace."

  "And my prayers were never answered."

  "My religion answers prayers."

  "Not even when I lifted my heart to God in earnest pleading to spare mybrother the unhappiness I felt sure would follow his marriage. _How_ Iprayed to be in time to prevent it! God never heard me!"

  "My religion holds the answer to that unanswered prayer."

  "Not even when I prayed, lying on the floor all night, for the life ofmy father."

  "My religion heals the sick."

  He turned to her eagerly.

  "Do you believe so implicitly in Christ's teachings that you canreproduce His miracles?" he cried.

  "Christ never performed any miracles. He healed sickness through thesimplest belief in the world,--or rather an understanding of HisFather's power. That same privilege of understanding is open to me--andto you. You have the power within you at this very moment to heal anydisease, if you only know where to look for the understanding to showyou how to use it."

  "Do you believe that?"

  "I do better than believe it. I understand it. I know it."

  "Is there a book which will tell me how to find it?"

  "Yes."

  "Will you order it for me, or tell me where to order it?"

  "It is a very expensive book," said Carolina, hesitatingly, thinking ofthe telegraph-office.

  "How expensive?"

  "Three dollars."

  "Do you call that expensive for what you promise it will do?"

  When Carolina looked at him, he saw that she was smiling, but there weretears in her eyes. And he understood.

  "You only said that to try me."

  And she nodded. Her heart was too full of mingled emotions for her tospeak. She had loved, despised, been proud of, and mortified for thisman,--all with poignant, pungent vehemence,--during this three-hourride, and at the last he had humbled and rebuked her by his childlikereadiness to believe the greatest truth of the ages. She sat her horse,biting her lips to keep back the tears.

  "Give me just one fact to go on," he begged.

  "Do you read your Bible?"

  "I used to, till I found I was getting not to believe in it. Then Istopped for my dead father's sake. He believed in it implicitly."

  "Then you have read the fourteenth chapter of John?"

  "I got fifty cents when I was twelve years old for learning it byheart."

  "Then run it over in your own mind until you come to the twelfth verse.When you get to that, say it aloud."

  "'Verily, verily I say unto you, He that believeth on me, the works thatI do shall he do also; and greater works than these shall he do; becauseI go unto my Father.'"

  He did not glance her way again, which Carolina noticed with gratitude.It showed that he was not accepting it for her sake. Presently he spokeagain.

  "Did you yourself ever heal any one?"

  "Through my understanding of Divine Love, I healed Gladys Yancey," shesaid, quietly.

  The man's face flushed with his earnestness. He lifted his hat and rodebareheaded.

  "Do you remember what the f
ather of the dumb child said? 'Lord, Ibelieve! Help thou mine unbelief!'"

  When they rode in at the gates of Whitehall, Moultrie was astonished atthe radiance of the girl's countenance. She seemed transfigured bylove. Moultrie's ready belief had glorified her, and for the second timeher grateful thought ascended in the words, "See what Divine Love hathwrought!"