The Forged Note Part 73

"Come in, Brown Skin, not a man has been here tonight." He looked up, and in the doorway stood a woman. She was tall and slender, and brown.

She smiled with an effort, he could see, for, in truth, the woman was hungry.

"I'm hungry," she faltered, "and that's on the square. The landlord took every dime I made last night, for rent this morning. Not a bite have I eaten this day. Every day he calls early for his rent. Business is rotten--everybody's broke; but he must have his rent, or out into the street I go." She paused and looked tired, and then went on: "I'm so weak. I'd slip out of this h.e.l.l hole, and try to make an honest living, but I have no clothes, and besides, I'm afraid that while I was gone, he might come along and turn the lock, and carry the key with him. And too, the bulls are filling the streets tonight, and fly cops are everywhere.

So I might be arrested, and go t' jail. I don't like that place up there." And she sighed a long drawn, weary sigh.

"Why would you be arrested?" he inquired, speaking for the first time.

"Why would I be arrested?" she exclaimed. "You must not know the rules of this district," she cried. "Why, we are not allowed to leave it. When we enter this, we agree to stay!"

"To stay?" he echoed.

"Yes," she replied. "To stay...." He followed her gaze. She was not aware of what she saw, no doubt; but he was. Before her gaze rose gray, grim and sinister, one of those places--the abode of dead things. Yes, and it was waiting, silently waiting. He turned and regarded the woman.

She was quiet. A man came by crying:

"Hot sandwiches--hot tamales--five cents apiece!"

He saw her gazing at them with eyes that were dry, but hungry.

"Here," he cried, "with your sandwiches." And then turned to her:

"Take as many as you want. All you can eat tonight, and some for tomorrow!"

Her eyes widened. She beheld him now with wonder. "Do you mean it?" she whispered, in a subdued voice.

He nodded, and handed the man a half dollar.

She ate ravenously, while he watched. Presently he started, while she watched him strangely, as if he were something unearthly. He turned suddenly, and came back to where she stood. He ran his hand into his pocket, and drew forth three silver dollars. "Here," he said, and a moment later he was gone.

She stood transformed, and then, dreamlike, she cried after him:

"G.o.d bless you!"

Back toward his room he now walked, and at times stumbled. But all the way the words of that woman rang in his ears: "G.o.d bless you!" "G.o.d," he murmured, "do You know these people? Are You acquainted with these women who are sinning? They don't know You! Their souls are burning now in h.e.l.l!" He didn't know the direction he was going, nor did he hear the invitations; but soon he came to one of those walls, and looked up. Yes, they were inside.... Those who had known this life in the infinite long ago. And they were waiting for those others....

"Brown Skin," he now heard, and then much gayety followed; but he looked up and saw the others, who were likewise waiting. "Sin on little girl.

Satan's got your soul, and you'll burn in h.e.l.l some day."

He went a block where, on one side the gray silence greeted him, while on the other gay life was the order.

"Come in boy, I've something to tell you." But Sidney Wyeth made no answer; all the while he could feel that silent spectre, the grave. And it seemed to say: "We are waiting, waiting, waiting."

He went now in the direction of his room, and as he went along, the gray court kept telling him: "These are mine--all of them. And, do you know, they come to me each day. Oh, they are gay--now! The devil's got their souls, but I always get the rest. Meanwhile I am waiting, patiently waiting."

Gay music came from the doors of a cabaret, and he saw it was for colored people. White people were not allowed within. He entered. The accustomed crowd lined the walls. The same girls came each night--he now saw. They welcomed those who wished for drinks, which came at fifteen cents apiece; a half of which they received at the end of the night, and that was how they lived.

He avoided them. On the floor were the dancers. The music was inspiring, and "balling the jack" was the order. A rain of nickels came down upon them, and they quit only when they were exhausted.

He was awakened by a waiter, at the table where he had fallen asleep. So he ordered a drink, gulped it down with an effort, and took his leave.

He emerged, and had walked a few steps, when someone touched him. He looked down into the face of the woman who had been hungry.

"Who're you?" she said. "_Who're you?_" she repeated, "to feed a starving wench and ask nothing. Don't look at me so strangely. I followed you. I saw you enter there. I would have followed you in; but they don't allow _us_ in there.... They don't allow us anywhere but--oh, well, I didn't come to tell you my troubles. And then," she added, "I wouldn't wish to disgrace you by having others see; but won't you come back?"

He gazed down into her eyes and saw the truth therein. "A lost soul....

Yes, a lost soul." And then something within him seemed to burst. The world about him became a maze of darkness, and he knew no more.

CHAPTER SEVEN

"_At Last, Oh Lord, At Last!_"

Mrs. Ernestine Jacques very soon became devoted to her roomer, Mildred Latham. She told her husband as much when she had been in the house a few days.

"She's a delightful girl, a fine companion, and I am glad she made inquiry of you in regard to lodging."

"I am pleased to hear it," said her husband. "I am glad to have found you a companion, and now you won't miss me so much, will you?"

"Of course, I will," she pouted. "I didn't mean that," she said. "But women, you know, seem to require friends, even when they have the best husbands in the world."

We leave them at this point, and return to the subject of their conversation, who had begun a canva.s.s in the sale of Wyeth's book, and had met with success, which is neither unusual nor strange, since it depends upon the efforts of the worker.

She estimated that he would confine his work to the aristocratic section, where the mult.i.tude of servants were, so she decided to try the colored people in their homes, to begin with. Therefore, from one she learned of others, until she had a list of people whom she worked among, and with excellent results. She became an attendant of the Methodist church, where she met many, and made acquaintances that increased the success of her work. And thus her life flowed serenely along, uneventful for many weeks. But she had not seen or heard of the one she sought, although, in the course of time, she came across the book, and knew it had been bought from him.

It rained at times, until whole days were lost, for it was too wet to enter nice homes. She stayed in her room at these times, and talked with Mrs. Jacques as little as possible, although she longed to do so very much. She was glad to see, as the time went on, that the two were devoted to each other. Dr. Jacques was a good man, and was even a better husband.

"Some day," she sighed, "maybe I'll be like that." She pondered now for some time.

Mildred had reached no decision, as yet, in regard to her plans. She was nervous, at times, on the street, fearing she might meet Sidney. She worked hard to occupy herself, and thus it went along, until she had gotten her work well under way.

"Have you ever been up in the Perier building?" a lawyer, who purchased a book, inquired of her.

"No, sir, I have not. Where is that, and are there colored people about it?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am. It is a building occupied and owned by Negroes. There are a great many people located in it who would buy the book, I am sure," he informed her. "I would advise you to go."

"I thank you ever so much, indeed," she cried gratefully. "I shall go there tomorrow."

The next day was a beautiful one; the air was fragrant with the perfume of roses, and the birds sang, seemingly, everywhere.

"A storm of some proportion will reach this place before night," said Dr. Jacques. "A day that begins as this one, always ends that way!"

"My husband is a weather prognosticator," commented his wife, humorously. Mildred smiled knowingly from across the table.

"And you have been very successful with your work, Miss Latham?" said he, surveying her appreciatively.

"Oh, very much so. But it has been so elsewhere." She told him of her work in the city she had just left.