The Broken Sword Part 11

Alice bowed lovingly at the bedside of the poor widow and kissed the pallid cheek, and looking into the faded eyes asked, with heartfelt sympathy, if she knew who had kissed her?

"Ah, vera well la.s.sie," she answered smilingly. "I ken nae ane in this puir auld world but you; And why should I dearie? Do you think I shall ever cease to love you, Allie, you are sae bright and trustful; your gentle spirit is like the little star that s.h.i.+nes just yonner when the twilight deepens into the night, its light ond joy ond comfort are for some ither fauk, for some ither fauk," she repeated with earnestness.

"Oh, I do thank you, Mrs. MacLaren, for such kind, yet undeserved expressions, they are sweet dewdrops that are always leaking from a heart, kind and true," said Alice, as she brought from her little basket such delicacies as she thought would tempt the sick lady.

"Now that you love me so dearly," continued Alice, "will you not take a little nourishment, for my sake?"

"For your sake, dearie," interrogated the old lady, "thot I will, and thank you with an auld ruck of a heart thot has but ane love--all for you, chiel, all for you. If I live it will be to bless you, ond if I dee I will whisper to the angels to love my sweet chiel as I have loved you, Allie."

The old head was very tired and the eyes that now mirrored another light than that which came through the natural senses were closing as Alice sang so tenderly, so softly her favorite hymn; and it appeared to come fragrant, laden with the aroma of the heather, with the memories of the gude auld days from the glades and trossachs.

"It's here we hae oor trials, ond it is here that He prepares A' his chosen for the raiment, which the ransomed sinner wears Ond it is here that he would hear us, mid oor tribulations sing We'll trust oor G.o.d who reigneth in the Palace of the King.

"Though his palace is up yonner, He has kingdoms here below; Ond we are his amba.s.sadors, wherever we may go; We've a message to deliver, ond we've lost anes hame to bring To be leal and loyal hearted, in the Palace of the King.

"Its ivory halls are bonnie, upon which the rainbows s.h.i.+ne, Ond its Eden bowers are trellised with a never fading vine; Ond the pearly gates of Heaven do a glorious radiance fling, On the starry floor that s.h.i.+mmers in the Palace of the King.

"Noo nicht shall be in Heaven ond nae desolating sea, Ond nae tyrant's hoof shall trample in the City of the free; There is everlasting daylight ond a never-fading Spring, Where the Lamb is all the glory in the Palace of the King."

The widow lay as though she were dead, so tranquil was the slumber that had kissed down her heavy eyelids, and her crossed hands were laid upon the light coverlid that rested upon her bosom.

"Oh," thought Alice as she looked upon the scarcely animated human body, "if it were not a sin, and if you were not so wearied, how I would envy you, Mrs. MacLaren; you are soon to be so happy. Your tired feet will soon press the 'Starry floor that s.h.i.+mmers in the palace of the King'

ond your tired een will soon 'behold the King in his beauty,' ond your tired heart will throb with a divine feeling when He bids you welcome in the 'palace of the King; ond he will gae you the t.i.tle to your mansion with a smile, ond you ken fine it is your ain hoose, ond after sich sae travail you have coom hame to abide for aye.'"

After a while the old lady awoke to find Alice kneeling at her head, to wipe the damp from her brow with her handkerchief.

Alice was the first to speak and she said quite endearingly "How are you now, my dear Mrs. MacLaren? I hope you feel ever so much better."

The old lady with some effort raised her eyes and responded feebly, "Better chiel. Ah my dearie," she said almost hopefully, "may be I'll nae go to my ain hame the day. Just then I was so weary and I had almost forgotten that you were still with me. Ond were you nae singing a wee bit ago dearie? or was I dreaming ond heard the Angels singing, 'We'll trust our G.o.d who reigneth in the palace of the King?' It might have been the voice of my auld mither, I dinna ken, I dinna ken," she repeated emotionally.

"If you are not tired, Allie, will you not read a pa.s.sage from the blessed book, just to make me think of the auld, auld story."

Alice took the Bible from the little deal table and upon opening its pages a five dollar treasury note of the Confederate government, of the issue of eighteen hundred and sixty two, fell upon the floor. It appeared to Alice as a pictorial representation of war, its havoc, its chariot wheels, with great cruel tires and knives, and its heaps of slain. She turned it over and saw this writing, in a neat feminine hand on the back, "It was not for the like of this that my lad was slain at Gettysburg, it was for honor. With the tidings of his death came this note from his hands. 'The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.'"

Alice placed the note back in the Bible with the thought almost expressed by her tongue, "The liveliest emblems of Heaven are His saints, who in the deep sense of anguish can uplift their hearts to Him in simple child-like faith."

The old lady again expressed herself as feeling so much better. Poor woman, perhaps it was but a momentary reinforcement of the vital energy, that was preparing her for the last interview with death, when he should come again with shroud and coffin. "And the Spirit and the bride say come," the sweet girl began to read, "and let him that heareth say come, and let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will let him take of the water of life freely."

"The water of life freely, and let him that is athirst say come," echoed the old lady feelingly. "Ond all, all, dearie, we shall hae in ower aboondance in the palace of the King, bye and bye. Ond wud you mind putting up a wee bit prayer for sich an auld rack of a body?"

Alice got down upon her knees and clasping the hands of the sick lady in her own she prayed fervently that the Father of all mercies would watch over her charge who had been faithful through her life; deal lovingly with her, for she is thy child; be with her now and always to comfort her and give her that peace which the world cannot give or take away.

Alice rose from her supplications to kiss the old lady once more before taking her departure, when the invalid, pointing to a little box in beautiful Mosaic upon the mantel, said to her, "You will find there a little siller that I have put by for my beerial chiel, for the gown ond the coffin ond the grave."

As Alice entered the old mansion at Ingleside with her mind tranquilized by the experience through which she had just pa.s.sed, she heard her father in quite a loud voice, call one of his old servants, "Ned, Ned, where is that black rascal Ephraim?"

"Don't know, mars Jon, came back the answer, Specks he is dun gone to de baptising in de crick sar."

"Where is my saddle mare?"

"Don't know dat sar, nudder, specks she's dun gone wid Ephraim tu sar."

"Where is my new hat and umbrella?"

"Don't know mars Jon, specks dey is dun took demselves off en wid Ephraim tu sar."

"Who is that banging on Miss Alice's piano?"

"Dey is dem culled ladies sar, Miss Maria und Miss Susan, er playin high opperattucks sar. I seed dem er gwine in dere und spishoned dey wur gwine rong, und I axed dem to play de high opperattucks some wheys else, kase dis grate house was too dimmycratuck fur dem, but dey lowed dat dere daddy had worked fur hit und dey wus hissen und den I didn't say no mo, kase I wus afeared. Pend erpun hit, mars Jon, de bottom rail has dun got on top now sho nuff."

Reconstruction had come with its mildew. Black cavernous mouths were lapping up the virus and spitting it out everywhere. Retribution in history had come too with the evolution of the negro.

The old master like a besieged baron of mediaeval civilization, was still looking out upon his broad domains and his cattle upon a hundred hills, but there was rust upon the plow shares, tares in the wheat, c.o.c.kles in the rye, and the high noon bell in its tower hung lifeless and tongueless. No summons thence to the tired hands and feet and backs upon the old plantation. Labor was disorganized--discipline a dead precedent--the negroes, like the swallows and ravens in the old rookery, homeward and townward as they list, were pluming their flight.

The many-gabled mansion lay fast asleep in the Sabbath nooning. A bee-martin, as it leaped to wing from the neglected meadow, piped a shrill note or two and scurried away after the thieving crow; and the interlacing oaks and elms of a century's growth coquetted with the whispering winds.

Alice felt that she had sustained a mortal shock when she heard the sound of her mother's piano, every chord thrilling with strange dissonance; boisterous, vulgar singing and the shuffling of feet upon the richly carpeted floor.

She started to enter the room when a rude black hand was placed with violence upon her arm, and she was thrust back into the hall, with the remark, "jess git outen here forthwid. Us ladies is musin our selfs er makin dis ole fing farly howl. Daddy ses how dat ef we cullud ladies notices white trash lak yu is eny mo he's ergwine ter whup us an' whup us good," and with this they courtesied toward each other and retired as if they had been princesses of some black realm.

Alice wept out her indignation in her mother's room. Poor Alice! Sowing the wind! By and by what shall the harvest be?

"Ned," called Colonel Seymour, "tell Aleck to come to me." Ned came back in a few minutes concealing a grin with his open hand to his mouth.

"Boss," he said, "I seed Ellick, und he tole me how dat I mout tell yu pintedly dat ef yu wants ter see him wusser dan he do yu, yu mout c.u.m ter him er let hit erlone udder. Dem wus his berry wurds." The old man turned away with the wish in his heart that the black vat of reconstruction might be heaped up to the brim with the freedmen who had turned their backs upon their only friends.

As the evening sun was drawing a watery cloud before its face to shut out, if possible, the degradation of the white people of the South, Ephraim rode up at break-neck speed upon the exhausted mare and as he alighted upon the foot-block he threw the bridle towards his old master with the insulting demand, "unsaddle dat beastis Semo, widout yu wants her tu tote de saddle all her life."

"You insolent scoundrel!" exclaimed the old man in white heat, "has it come to this?"

"Looker heer, po white man, dus yu no who's yu er sa.s.sin? Ise er spectable cullud gemman, sar, er franksized woter, sar, und what's yu sar? Po down white trash. Take yer ole mar und yer ole umbrill, und yer ole hat, und go ter de debbil." Thus was slipping away the eventide of the day that G.o.d, in his infinite condescension aeons ago, had hallowed and blessed.

In the excitement of these almost tragical events Alice had quite forgotten the sick woman across the meadow, and she was hurrying there as fast as she could, when she was intercepted in her journey by Aleck, who commanded,

"Hole up dar, white 'oman! Whar is yer agwine wid dat baskit und dem wittles?"

The girl was greatly alarmed at the presence of the brutish negro in this solitary place and she spoke as complacently as possible and told him that she was carrying some food to poor Mrs. MacLaren. "Will you not let me go on?" she said; "the poor woman is very ill, and I am sure that I am doing no one any harm."

"Yes yu is fer a fac, the negro replied with anger, pears lak yu an yer yo ole daddy is terminated tu gin de culled genmen all de tribulashun yu kin und we haint ergwine tu stan hit no longer. Boff ob yu is jist got tu git outen de grate house und stop toting wittles tu de po white trash. When we takes holt ob dis plantashun dey haint ergwine ter be nary horg, nur chickin, nur pefowell on de lan und de culled genmen und ladies will be bleeged to look at tother wuns and suck dey fingers in misery."

As the negro turned away from the affrighted girl he purposely threw against her fair face, with a deft hand a thorn switch, that tore the flesh and caused the cheek to bleed and then laughed with the gratification of an arch-fiend.

She went on her way in silence but her outraged spirit could hardly contain itself, and this she said to herself with burning anger is reconstruction! A civilization that with whipcords and chains has suspended law and love and benevolence.

When Alice reached the little home of the widow she knew that the death angel had entered before her and was putting his icy finger upon the eye and the heart, and with an almost inaudible exclamation of "poor Allie"

she pa.s.sed away.

With tenderness and love Alice arranged the coverlid over the body and locked the door and went in search of help to prepare the old woman for burial. She saw aunt Charlotte gathering sticks for fuel for the pot that was boiling in her yard, for it was wash day, and told her that poor old Mrs. MacLaren was dead. "Will you not go with me and give such a.s.sistance as you can?" "Dat I wont," sharply replied the old negress "Ise dun und got way by any sich drudgery as dat now a days. When wun ob our siety ceases we has grate blowin' ob horns und muskits shooting at de grabe und ebery body is as hapy as er rane frog in de willer tree.

Yu sees dem dere bilin cloes in de pot don't yu, and yu sees dat ar sun ergwine down as peert as er race hoss, well den Ise got my orders from Joe und I don't ame tu git a beatin when he c.u.ms home ef I kin hep it."