AT last the time come, as every time will come if you wait long enough
for it—the time had come when the colony wuz to embark for their new
home.
Victor and Genieve wuz to be married the mornin’ they started, Cousin
John Richard a performin’ the ceremony in the parlor at Belle Fanchon,
and Father Gasperin a layin’ out to make a good prayer on the occasion.
And the evenin’ before everything wuz ready.
In Genieve’s room, acrost the white bed lay the simple grey travellin’
dress and wrap she wuz a goin’ to wear on her journey, with a little
grey velvet turban by the side of it, and the heavy travellin’ cloak
she would most probable need on her long sea voyage.
The little grey gloves and the handkerchief and the well-filled
travellin’ bag lay all ready to take up at a minute’s notice, for we
knew there wouldn’t be any too much time in the mornin’.
The pretty plain white dress she wuz a goin’ to wear to enter her new
life in, and which would be a good dress for years, and handy where she
wuz a goin’, lay acrost two chairs, ready for her to put on the first
thing in the mornin’.
Yes, everything wuz ready in Genieve’s room. And in the kitchen, though
I am fur, fur from bein’ the one to speak on’t (as I had done the most
of the cookin’), wuz as good vittles as I ever see in my hull life.
Aunt Mela done well and done considerable; but I wanted Victor and
Genieve and Cousin John Richard to have some of my own particular
Jonesville cookin’, and everything had turned out jest right.
Every cake had riz up in good form, ready for the icing; not one
lop-sided or heavy cake wuz there in the hull collection.
And the roast fowls wuz jest the right brown, not a speck of scorch on
one of ’em.
The jellys wuz firm and clear as so many moulds of rose and amber ice.
And the posys had all been picked, and Maggie had arranged ’em in great
crystal bowls and vases of sweetness and beauty.
The table wuz all sot. We thought we would arrange it the night before,
when we had plenty of time, so it would suit us.
And we had got everything ready, and though I dare presume to say I
ortn’t to say it, it looked good enough to eat, vittles, table-cloth,
posys, and all.
(Though it is fur from me to propose eatin’ stun china and
table-cloths; but I use this simely to let you know the exceedin’
loveliness of the spectacle.)
Genieve went in to see it after it wuz all ready. We wouldn’t let her
do much, knowin’ what a journey wuz ahead on her.
But when she went in to look at it she looked as if she wuz in a dream,
a happy dream. And she wuz pleased with every single thing we had done
for her. Snow, the dear little lamb, follered Genieve round tight
to her all the time; she knew she wuz a goin’ away from us, and she
couldn’t bear the thought; but we had tried to reason with her and tell
her how happy Genieve wuz a goin’ to be, and she, havin’ such a deep
mind, seemed to be middlin’ reconciled.
Boy wuz of course too small to realize anything. And it wuz on
Genieve’s heart that the tug of partin’ with him come hardest. She
wanted him in her arms all the time, a most. And as happy as she wuz,
I see more than one tear drop down on his little short brown curls and
dimpled cheeks and on Snow’s golden locks.
But I looked forward to the time when Genieve, sweet, tender heart,
would hold a child of her own in her arms, and give it some of the love
she lavished on everything round her.
Wall, as evenin’ drew on and the mockin’ birds begun singin’ to their
mates down under the magnolias, we see Victor’s tall figure a comin’
along the well-known path, and Genieve went out to meet him for the
last time as a maiden.
The next time she went out to meet him it would be as his wife. And I
spoze they both thought of that with a sort of a sad rapture, for they
both loved Belle Fanchon and the folks that lived there.
And they knew it would be on the soil of a strange land when she next
sot out to meet him in the starry dusk of the evenin’ shadows.
And the birds that would be a singin’ over their heads would not be the
mockin’ birds of old Georgia. And different stars would be a shinin’
down on ’em, and it would be in a new world.
I spoze they thought of all this, I spoze so, as they slowly wended
their way up to the house in the soft glow of the semi-twilight amidst
the odor and bloom of the blossomin’ flowers, and the melancholy, sweet
notes of the mockin’ birds.
They come into the settin’ room, and Victor sot down as usual and took
Boy up in his arms—he loved the child.
Genieve went up into her room to tend to some last thing she wanted
done, and we sot there in the settin’ room, and visited for a spell
back and forth.
Josiah and Cousin John Richard had walked down to the village, and
Thomas Jefferson hadn’t come home yet.
Genieve found a letter from Hester a layin’ on her table, and she
opened it and read it in the last faint rosy glow of the daylight.
Hester and Felix wuz to meet them where they embarked. Hester’s letter
wuz full of joyful anticipation about the new home to which she wuz a
goin’. Poor thing! bein’ so tosted about and misused as she had been,
it is no wonder.
She and Felix wuz lookin’ forward with such delight and happiness
towards the new home that their fervor thrilled Genieve’s heart anew,
and she sot there after she had read the letter and looked off into the
rosy light of the sunset, and she dreamed a dream.
It wuz a still twilight. The flowers about her window stood sweet and
motionless against the glowin’ light.
The last golden rays come through the vine-wreathed casement and fell
on the letter lyin’ open in her lap, and as she sot there with her
beautiful head leanin’ back against the old carved chair-back, the
shinin’ rays seemed to move and get mixed with the shadows of the vine
leaves.
They moved, they shone, they took form, and as she sot there Genieve
saw—whether in the body or out of the body I cannot tell, God
knoweth—but she saw her future home in the New Republic.
She saw a fair land lyin’ under a clearer, softer sky, but it bent down
on strange foliage—giant palm-trees cleaved the blue sky, and birds,
like great crimson and golden blossoms, were flyin’ back and forth in
and out of the green, shinin’ branches.
Crystal rivers wuz flowin’ through that land, whose clear waves wuz
dotted with the sails of a busy commerce.
She looked on these heavily freighted ships and see that the commanders
and officers, as well as crews, wuz her own dark-skinned race.
By the side of these blue crystal highways for the Republic’s wealth
wuz flourishin’ towns in which stood great manufactories and workshops
for all useful and valuable purposes. She looked into these busy
places, and she saw at the loom, and the forge, and the work-bench
her own people, and also in the countin’ rooms, and offices, and the
superintendent’s rooms—all wore the dark livery of the sun. And
she saw that none wuz very rich and none wuz poor, for the work wuz
co-operative, and all wuz paid livin’ wages, and all owned a share,
even if a small one, in these large undertakings; and she saw that
none of the toilers looked haggard and overworked, for their hours of
labor wuz short enough to give them all a chance for bodily rest and
recreation.
She looked into the pulpits of the beautiful churches whose spires rose
from the glitterin’ foliage, and wuz scattered over this new land.
Colored men and colored wimmen stood in the pulpits and sot in the pews.
Large, noble universities and a multitude of public schools dotted
the land of this New Republic; colored men and colored wimmen wuz
presidents, professors, teachers. The old lessons learned by their
ancestors with many a heartache in the Old World wuz bearin’ its rich
fruit in the new.
She saw great museums, lecture rooms, art galleries, all filled with
the glowin’ imagery of the race that tried to orniment and wreathe the
chains of servitude with some pitiful blossoms of crude beauty; she
beheld these gorgeous fancies trained into magnificent results. The
walls wuz glowin’ with beauty and bold magnificence that the tamer,
colder-blooded races never dreamed of.
[Illustration: “IN THE CHAIR OF THE RULER.”]
She entered the halls of song, free for all, rich or poor, and heard
melodious sounds such as she had never dreamed of hearin’ this side
of heaven. And the musicians wuz all of her own music-lovin’ race,
and the melody almost seemed to have the secret of Paradise in it, so
heavenly sweet it wuz.
All through this favored land out in the rich country wuz immense
co-operative farms stocked with sleek herds, and worked with new and
wonderful machinery invented by her own people.
And in the Capitol, in the chair of the ruler, sot one of her own race,
wise and beneficent. And all the offices and chairs of State wuz filled
by the colored people.
Over all the land wuz prosperity, over all the land wuz peace, for
there wuz no conflictin’ elements of diverse and alien races and
interests mixed up in it; and purified by past sufferings, grown wise
by the direct teachings of God, the rulers ruled wisely, the people
listened gladly, and the teachings of the Christ who more than two
thousand years before come upon earth wuz fulfilled to His chosen
people, whom He had brought up out of the depths to show His glory to
the heathens.
She saw—for her vision wuz ontrammelled by time or space—she saw the
wise and kind influences of the Republic stretching out like the rays
from a star into the darkest corners and deepest jungles of this great
Eastern Hemisphere—she saw the light slowly dawning in these depths.
She saw missionaries ever goin’ into these places from this New
Republic with the Bible in their hands and its sweet wisdom in their
lives, and then ever goin’ back with some new recruits gathered from
the lowest places, to be in time educated in all good things, and then
sent back as missionaries to their own tribes.
And the sunlight lay lovingly on this land like the love of God long
hidden under the cloud of His judgments, but now seeming the sweeter
from what had gone before.
And from all these cozy homes in city and in country she heard the
steady tread, tread of the children walkin’ along to the music of the
future, the future of accomplishment, of education, of promise. She saw
them forever learnin’ new things, the newer things that wuz forever
displacin’ the old—newer, grander, broader views and aims. For heaven
and earth wuz drawin’ nearer to each other, and the era of peace on
earth, good-will to man had come.
Long did Genieve set there wrapped in the glory of what she
saw—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know. God knoweth.
At last the voice of little Snow aroused her, and she took her up in
her arms.
But the light remained in her face.
Little Snow come into our room in a few minutes, and she sez, “Genny
took me up in her lap, and her face shined.”
And I sez, “Like enough, darlin’. She is one of the Lord’s anointed,
anyway.”
And Josiah sez—he had come back, and wuz a layin’ on the
lounge—“Probable the sun wuz a shinin’ into her face.”
And Snow sez, “The sun had gone down; it wasn’t shinin’ into her room.”
“Wall,” sez Josiah, “it wuz most probable the lamp.”
“She hadn’t lighted one,” sez Snow.
“Wall, it wuz most probable sunthin’,” sez Josiah.
And I sez, “I presume so.”
And I felt that it wuz.
Wall, while this happy glow wuz still a shinin’ in Genieve’s eyes,
Victor wuz a settin’ down below. Genieve had gone across the garden to
bid baby Tommy good-bye.
When I went down agin Victor wuz a settin’ by the open window of the
settin’ room.
It wuz a lovely night, as I could see plain, for the big windows wuz
wide open and the moon shone bright in the east, while yet the rosy
glow had not faded out of the western sky.
I sot down with my knittin’ work, and as I sot there a peacefully
seamin’ three and one on Josiah’s sock, I see a little white bird come
a flyin’ along from towards the clump of roses and magnolias that riz
up over little Belle Fanchon’s grave.
It flew along most to the window, and settled down on a wavin’ rose
branch, and there it swung back and forth and sung a sweet sort of a
invitin’ song. And into its liquid notes seemed to be blent sunthin’
sad and sort o’ comfortin’, and sunthin’ high, and inspirin’, and glad.
I thought I had seen and hearn most every kind of song bird sence I had
been South; but thinkses I to myself, I don’t believe I ever see a bird
that looked exactly like that, or heard a song that wuz quite so sweet,
so sad.
It sot there for all the world as if it wuz a waitin’ for sunthin’.
I didn’t say nuthin’, but I couldn’t help watchin’ it. I felt queer.
Bimeby Victor came up the steps and come in—he had been down on the
lawn for a flower for Genieve—and bein’ startled by him, I spoze, the
bird flew up a little ways onto a branch that hung over the porch, and
kep’ on with that same plaintive, sweet song, and it had that same air
as if it wuz a waitin’, waitin’ for somebody or sunthin’.
But pretty soon Maggie come in, and Victor begun to tell us how all
his preparations wuz completed, and about his plans, and his hopes,
etc., and I got all took up with ’em, and then I had to set my heel—or
ruther Josiah’s heel, and that takes up sights of mind and intellect to
do it jest right.
And jest as I got it set, in come Snow, the precious darlin’, with her
youngest dolly in her arms.
She made me kiss it good-night. I didn’t really want to, its face wuz
pasty and bare in patches, but I done it, and got two kisses from
Snow’s sweet little lips to take the taste out of my mouth.
And as I had kissed the doll affectionate and accordin’ to her wishes,
she put up her little hand to my face in that sweet caress she always
gin me when she wuz real satisfied and happy with what I had done, or
when I felt bad about anything.
And as I bent my head for that lovin’ and tender caress, oh, how joyful
and clear that bird’s song did sound through the twilight; it rung out
as if whatever it wuz waitin’ for had come nigh it, and its little
lonesome heart wuz full of content and joy.
And after she left my side, Snow kissed her mamma and then went up
to bid Victor good-night. She loved Victor, and he loved her dearly.
And knowin’ it would be the last time he would ever have the chance
agin most likely, he felt agitated and sorry, and took the dear little
creeter up in his arms, dolly and all.
As he did so I thought I heard the sound of steps in the garden, but
I glanced out past Victor and couldn’t hear anything more, only that
plaintive bird song, low, and strange, and thrillin’.
And I kep’ on with my work. But agin we all thought we heard steps, and
we listened for a minute, but everything wuz still. But sunthin’ drawed
my eyes to look up at little Snow, and even as I looked a ball come
crashin’ through the window and went right through that baby’s breast.
Victor sprung to his feet and sez:
“That wuz meant for me!”
And as he looked down on Snow he cried out:
“My God! has it killed the child?”
But he laid her down on the lounge right by him, and, bold as a lion,
and as if to shield us all from further harm, he sprang out on the
piazza and from there to the ground, and faced the gang of masked men
we could see surroundin’ him.
But we couldn’t foller him with any of our thoughts; all of our hearts
wuz centred on our little lamb.
She lay there white as death where Victor put her. She lay there still,
with her big blue eyes lookin’ up—up—and what did they see? Wuz the
Form a bendin’ over her? We thought so, from her face—such a look of
content, and understandin’, and comprehension of sunthin’ that wuz
beyend our poor knowledge.
For a minute she looked up with that rapt look on her face, and then
she tried to lift her little white hand in that pretty gesture of
greetin’ somebody we couldn’t see.
And then she slowly turned her look onto all of us, full of love—love
and pity; and then she wuz gone from us; we had only the beautiful
little body left.
We couldn’t believe it; we wuz stunned and almost killed with the
suddenness of it, the terribleness, the onheard-of agony and pity of it.
But it wuz so. When we had come to ourselves a little, and sent for the
doctor, and worked over her, and wept over her till fur into the night,
we had to believe it—dear little Snow had gone.
Victor, full of thought for Genieve, for us all, led the gang away
under a clump of magnolias in a distant part of the grounds, nigh to
the little tomb of Belle Fanchon.
They faced him, their faces full of brutal anger, and low envy, and all
bad passions. Led on by the cruel lies and influence of Col. Seybert,
and their own low distrust and dislike of superiority in one of their
own class, their own besotted ideas of their personal freedom—
They told Victor they would give him a chance for life. Let him give
up his ideas of colonization, let him give up his plans of enrichin’
himself on the earnings of the poor, let him show he wuz one of his own
people by goin’ back to his work again to Col. Seybert’s—they would
give him this one chance.
[Illustration: “FACED THE GANG OF MASKED MEN.”]
Victor turned his deep, pitiful eyes on the imbruted forms before
him, some black and some white, but all covered with the blackness of
ignorance, and superstition, and causeless anger, and brutality—
And he sez to them, “My friends and brothers, I have only wanted to do
you good. Heaven is my witness I have only sought out a better way for
you. And I have been willing to spend my life and strength to help you.
This country is no place for us.”
“It wuz good nuff for our faders and muders, and, ’fore Gawd, it is
good nuff for us,” shouted out some one in the crowd.
“I have wanted to help you all—to help myself to a better way of
living. The evils we have about us are not of our own making nor of
this generation—they are old and heavy with sorrow and iniquity. This
land is burdened, and cries out under this load of woe, and perplexity,
and sin. I have tried the old way—we all have—we have been burdened
more than we could bear in the old paths. I have only sought to lead
my people out into a safer, broader place, where we could be free from
some of the worst evils that beset us here, and where there is a chance
for us to have a home and a country of our own.”
“Curse you! shet up your jaw!” sung out one burly ruffian, in the thick
tones of semi-intoxication. For Col. Seybert had not failed to prime
up their courage with bad whiskey. “We have heard enough of your yawp!
Will you give up your plans or not?”
“Never!” said Victor. “I will never give up this hope, this work while
I live.”
“Then you may die, curse you!” said one voice.
And another voice rose up in venomous, brutal tones:
“You have preached your damned sermons about patience, and forgiveness,
and all that bosh, and you have been all the time a carryin’ on
your underhanded stealin’, and featherin’ your own nest out of the
hard-earned wages of the black men. And they say,” went on this voice,
which wuz evidently the voice of a white man, “they say that you are a
goin’ to sell the hull crew you take over for slaves and line your own
pockets with the blood-money of your brothers—you traitor you!”
Victor raised his arms mutely to the heavens as if to plead aginst the
injustice of men.
And as his clasped hands wuz raised, a bullet struck that noble heart,
and he fell, breathin’ out that old prayer:
“Lord, lay not this sin to their charge.”
[Illustration: “WHEN THE MOON HAD RISEN.”]