Ruth Babcock was seated at the dresser curling her hair when her aunt
entered the room. "Going out tonight, Ruth?"
"Yes, Mr. King and I are going to drive to Zala."
"Anything of interest going on?"
"Yes, a very interesting affair--rather private--only a select few
invited, you know."
When her aunt left the room Ruth fell into a reverie. She thought of
the past years of anxiety and hardship; they were behind her now. The
last few months had removed so much of care and restored so much of the
lightness of heart that she had known before her father was injured
that she felt like a new creature.
Jim Stover had been convicted of fraud and forgery and sentenced from
ten to twenty years in the penitentiary. John Hinds, who was the
principal witness against Stover, was sentenced to a short term in the
penitentiary but was paroled on account of his poor health. Babcock and
Watson had recovered through civil suits the value of the bank stock
of which Stover had defrauded them. Mr. Babcock had been operated on
by Dr. Lilly and had fully recovered. He now remembered every detail
of the transaction by which Stover came into possession of the bank.
With the return of his money and restored health he again engaged in
business. As Ruth thought of the restored health of her father and
the love of the strong young man who had been such a good friend and
gallant suitor she felt that she had every reason to be thankful, and
that there certainly never had lived a happier mortal than she.
It was seven o'clock when Harold called for her in his limousine. It
was a balmy May evening. The breezes from the meadows and pastures were
laden with the breath of wild flowers. Young rabbits hopped into the
hedges along the way and occasionally a foolish one would get in front
of the car and try to outrun it. A red bird in a hedge row was singing
a blithe song. Harold stopped the car that they might enjoy the music.
It was still light enough for them to discover the cause of his joy.
He was singing to his mate, who as a good wife and homemaker, was on
a nest nearby. As they rode past farm houses they heard the lowing of
cattle and the bleating of sheep. When they passed near a pond they
heard a bull-frog with a basso-profundo serenading his lady love. What
a night for lovers!
"Harold," said Ruth, "you remember that I won the three wishes when we
pulled the wish bone?"
"Yes, and I won the two."
"Mine have all come true."
"What were they? You told me that when they came true you would tell
me."
"I wished that my father would get well; that you would land the hotel
job at the capital, and that I would get an increase in wages. They all
came true, but my increase in wages came from a different source than I
had expected. Now you must tell me what your wishes were."
"Only one of mine has come true."
"What was it?" she asked.
"I mustn't tell until the other one comes true. You know you said that
if one told before all of the wishes came true the unfulfilled ones
would not come true."
"I know I did, but I believe that part of the wish charm is
superstition. I don't think it will make any difference. Come on and
tell me."
"Oh, no, young lady, you don't work me like that. I am not taking any
chances."
When they arrived at Zala they drove at once to the parsonage where the
old pastor who had preached Ruth's mother's funeral resided. A half
dozen of Ruth's girl friends were at the gate to meet them. "We have
been here waiting for almost an hour," one of the girls said.
In the minister's little study Ruth and Harold clasped hands,
symbolizing the union of their lives in love, while their vows were
being solemnized, which bound them--even unto death.
On the way home Harold said, "Now, Ruth, I can tell you the wishes; the
other one has come true. I wished that I might be able to help your
father secure the money that had been stolen from him, and I think you
can guess what the other was."
"It must have been that you would get to Zala without having any engine
trouble or puncturing a tire," she said, laughing.
"You are very dense, my darling, my wife," he said, as he put his arm
around her and kissed her.
"Now be careful. You can't drive with one hand. You will run the car
into the ditch," she cautioned.
They were about half way back to Wilford Springs when Ruth exclaimed,
"Oh, look there, there's a fiery cross!"
"It must be the Trenton Klan having a meeting."
"Isn't the cross beautiful and inspiring?"
"Yes, and it represents a wonderful movement. A movement that will mean
a better citizenship."
"Just what is the significance of the fiery cross? Of course I know
that the cross is the symbol of the Christian religion, but why a fiery
cross?"
"The cross was made red with the blood of the Savior, the great
Sacrifice for the sins of the world. As we behold this fiery cross we
see in it the symbol of the love of God for humanity and the suggestion
for unselfish service. There is also another meaning attached to it. It
has a militant significance. It is the signal for the assembling of the
Klansmen.
"In the old days in Scotland, when any great danger threatened their
nation and it became necessary for the Klans to assemble for the
defense of their country, a cross was made of wood and set afire. The
fiery brand was then quenched in the blood of a sacrifice. The chief
commander then gave the symbol to a Klansman to carry and pass to
another, who in turn should carry it, and so on, until it had been
carried through the territory of every Klan. The Klansman carrying this
fiery cross would shout the name of the muster-place. No true Klansman
who saw the cross and heard the muster-place called would fail to be at
the gathering. And he to whom the runner passed the emblem must carry
it on.
"Scott in his 'Lady of the Lake' shows the loyalty of the Klansmen and
the women of the Klan. He tells of this summons to the gathering being
carried into a home where the master of the house lay a corpse. The
Klansman, to whom the cross was to have been passed, is dead, but his
son takes his place. If I can recall the lines I will repeat them for
you." After a moment of silence he quoted:
'All stand aghast: unheeding all,
The henchman bursts into the hall;
Before the dead man's bier he stood;
Held forth the cross besmeared with blood;
"The muster-place is Lanrick mead;
Speed forth the signal! Klansman, speed!"
Angus, the heir of Duncan's line,
Sprung forth and seized the fatal sign.
In haste the stripling to his side
His father's dirk and broadsword tied;
But when he saw his mother's eye
Watch him in speechless agony,
Back to her open'd arms he flew,
Pressed on her lips a fond adieu--
"Alas," she sobbed, "and yet begone,
And speed thee forth, like Duncan's son."
* * * * *
He vanished and o'er moor and moss
Sped forward with the Fiery Cross.'
"Good," she said, "that makes this emblem mean so much to me now."
* * * * *
"Fred," said Aunt Clara, "it's almost eleven o'clock. Ruth should be
getting home."
"She will be back before long," Mr. Babcock replied.
"I expect Ruth and Mr. King will be getting married some of these
times. She hasn't had anything to do with Mr. Golter since she quit
work at the bank."
"And what's more, Clara, I don't want a girl of mine to have anything
to do with that kind of stock."
"Golter has money, and that means a lot these days," Clara commented,
and then added, "but Mr. King has picked up wonderfully in the last few
months."
"Harold King is a man," said Babcock.
Footsteps were heard on the porch. "There they come, now," said Clara.
The door was thrown open and Ruth and Harold entered.
"Well, Miss Babcock," said her father, smiling, "you have returned."
"No," she answered, "Miss Babcock has not returned and never will
return. Allow me to introduce my husband."
"What, you're not married!" exclaimed Aunt Clara.
"Yes, didn't I tell you that a very interesting affair was to take
place at Zala tonight?"
Mr. Babcock stepped between his daughter and his son and placed his arm
around her and a hand on his new son's shoulder. "Children," he said,
"I wish you the greatest of happiness, and may God crown your lives
with his richest blessings."
The End
End of Project Gutenberg's Harold the Klansman, by George Alfred Brown