_Mr. A. Hostility._
It will be recalled that in a very early chapter we saw a cadaverous
looking white man, wearing a much worn suit of clothes, making a sketch
of Ensal's home, as the latter was going out to make arrangements with
Mrs. Crawford for the introduction of Tiara into the best circles of
Negro life in Almaville.
And now in the crisis of the relations of Ensal and Tiara he comes
forward to inject his peculiar virus into the awful wound made in
Ensal's heart by the disclosures of the Gus Martin letter. Tiara,
burdened creature, was hardly out of sight of Ensal's home when this man
made his appearance and was ushered into the study. When he had taken
the seat proffered him, he said:
"Gus Martin wrote me a letter, enclosing a copy of a letter which he had
sent to you."
"O heaven, be merciful. Let it not come to that!" said the agonizing
Ensal, shocked that Gus had let another know of the matter that had so
disturbed him.
"Your prayer is not directed to me, but I hear, understand, and will
answer it. You do not wish the public to know of the contents of your
letter. You would shield the good name of the girl. As I shall very
shortly trust you with one of the gravest of secrets you will have a
hostage which will of itself insure silence on my part. You and I, I am
sure are the only two persons to whom Gus communicated the affair and
between us we can take care of the secret."
Ensal stepped across the room and clasped the man's hand fervently and
the two regarded themselves as mutually pledged to secrecy concerning
that matter and whatever was now about to be canvassed.
"It is not necessary for you to know my name, nationality or anything
that pertains to me. I am the incarnation of an idea. You may know me as
Mr. A. Hostility," said the man.
"Is there any significance attached to your choice of an initial to
represent your rather significant given name?" asked Ensal.
"Decidedly," said Mr. Hostility. "The A stands for Anglo-Saxon, the
God-commissioned or self-appointed world conqueror. I am the incarnation
of hostility to that race, or to that branch of the human family
claiming the dominance of that strain of blood."
The man drew his seat up to the table and, motioning for Ensal to take a
seat on the other side, said "Come near me, friend."
Ensal did as bidden and sitting thus close to the man noted the almost
maniacal look of intensity in his eye.
Keeping his eyes steadily on Ensal's face, Mr. Hostility lifted his hand
to his inside pocket and drew out a leathern case. Laying it on the
table he crossed his hands upon it and said:
"Will you hear me patiently? Gus Martin told me over and over again that
you were a Negro who had dedicated your all to the welfare of your race.
I began watching you years ago and I have carefully noted the trend of
events waiting for the moment that would make our spirits congenial to
each other, and I do believe that the dark shadow under which you stand
will sober you into fellowship with my sombre soul."
"You seem to be bitter. I am more crushed than bitter," said Ensal.
"Yes, but bitterness is the next stage, and I am sure that consideration
of a few things which I shall put before you will bring you to the next
stage," said Mr. Hostility.
Opening the leathern case he said, "Look at this map."
Ensal bent forward and looked at a map of the world spread out before
him.
"The world, you see, will soon contain but two colossal figures, the
Anglo-Saxon and the Slav. The inevitable battle for world supremacy will
be between these giants. Without going into the question as to why I am
a Pro-Slav in this matter, I hereby declare unto you that it is the one
dream of my life to so weaken the Anglo-Saxon that he will be easy prey
for the Slav in the coming momentous world struggle."
"Do I understand that you are to talk treason to me to-day; for of
course you know my people are tied up in a political system with the
Anglo-Saxons," asked Ensal, with some warmth.
"Ah! That is the question? Are you a part of the American nation or a
thing apart? I can prove that you are a thing apart--a fly in the
stomach for whose ejection an emetic is being diligently sought. Now,
hear me," said Mr. Hostility.
Always eager to hear what thoughtful men had to say with regard to his
race, Ensal leaned back in his chair, determined to give earnest
attention to this observer of American life, whose very hostility
assured the acuteness of his observations.
Just at this moment Ensal's mother informed him that a committee was in
their parlor, having come for the purpose of pleading with Ensal to
reconsider his determination to leave America.
"Madam," said Mr. Hostility, "tell the gentlemen that there is a party
closeted with your son, who has the one key to the Southern situation
long needed by your race, and that I am sure your son will abide in
America."
Mrs. Ellwood cast a look of warning at her son as she withdrew from the
room. She was not at all favorably impressed with Mr. Hostility, and
had been ill at ease ever since he entered the house.
Ensal said, "Excuse me a few moments, Mr. Hostility," and stepped out of
the room.
Mrs. Ellwood, knowing that her son would follow her, stopped in the
hallway, and when he came dropped a pistol into his coat pocket, saying
in a whisper, "My dear boy, do be careful."
Ensal smiled sadly and kissed his mother.
"Tell the committee, mother, that my mind is fully made up and a
discussion of my going would be utterly useless. Take the name of each,
assure them all that I appreciate their interest and will call on them
to have a social chat before I leave, provided, however, they agree not
to seek to disturb my purpose in this regard."
Ensal's mother went to the parlor with his final word, and Ensal
returned to Mr. A. Hostility.
Tiara was now at home praying that Ensal might not leave America yet
awhile. Mr. A. Hostility was also praying to his evil genius for a like
result.
Monstrous incongruity! How often do diverse spirits from widely
differing motives work toward a common end!