Conclusion.
How soft had been the day, how tender
the tone of every voice. The road under the moon
was white and from a persimmon tree in an old field
came the trill of a mockingbird. Two happy men
were riding toward an old home.
“And here is where he fell,”
said Alf. “I am tempted to get down and
pray. Bill, you don’t know what it is to
be freed from the conviction that you have killed
a man. He might not have died then if it had not
been for me, but, thank God, I didn’t kill him.
Yes, here is where I eased him down. I remembered
afterward that I had not seen a drop of his blood
and I was deeply thankful for it. We can almost
see the General’s house from here. You
saw the old man to-day when he came up and shook hands
with me. He hardly knew what he was about, and
he said, ’Alf, what’s your father doing?’
But his eyes were full of tears and he had to wipe
them when I told him that I was going to buy the old
Morton place. He thinks you are a great man,
Bill, and I honor him for it. To-night we will
sleep in our room and early to-morrow morning I’m
going over to see Millie. Do you think I ought
to go to-night? No, I will wait and dream over
it.”
In the old room we sat and peacefully
smoked our pipes. And after I had gone to bed,
and when I thought Alf was asleep, I heard him talking
to himself. No, it was not talk, it was a chant,
and it reminded me of his mother. I said nothing
and I sank to sleep, and strange, mystic words were
in my ears, soothing me down to forgetful slumber.
We were aroused early at morning by
the rattle of a wagon at the door. The old people Guinea
had come back. Alf dressed quickly and ran down
stairs, and I stuffed my ears that I might hear no
sound from below. After a long time, and while
I sat looking out of the window, the old man came
up.
“By jings, I must have got that
dispatch of yourn before you sent it. Mighty
glad to see you again. But don’t go down
stairs yet. Everybody down there is as foolish
as a chicken with his neck wrung. I tell you
the Lord works things out in his own way. Sometimes
we may think that we could run things better, but
I don’t believe we could! and, thurfore, I say,
kiver to kiver. Ah, Lord, what a time we have
had. Yes, sir, a time if there ever was one.
Alf has jest told me what you intend to do, but if
you think that you are goin’ to crowd a lot of
money off on me you are wrong. Give us this old
house and see that we don’t need nothin’ but,
of course, you’ll do that. I thought I’d
let ’em fight to a finish up yander, but I didn’t.
They looked at me so pitiful that I called an old
feller that happened to be passin’ along and
told him that he might have ’em. I’ve
got to have a Sam and a Bob. Old Craighead, that
lives about ten miles from here, has some of the finest
in the world. Always wanted ’em, but they
were so high that I couldn’t tip-toe and reach
’em. Reckon you could fix it so I could
git a couple?”
“You shall have as many as you want all
of them.”
“I’m a thousand times
obleeged to you. Yes, sir; sometimes we think
we could run things better than He does, but I don’t
reckon we could. We seen young Lundsford as we
driv along jest now. And I think he’ll be
over here putty soon, but don’t you worry.
No, sir, we ain’t got nothin’ to worry
about now. Believe it would push us to scratch
up a worry, don’t you? By jings, though,
I hardly know what to do; I step around here like
a blind sheep in a barn, as the feller says. Well,
it’s gettin’ pretty quiet down there now.
Alf got away as soon as he could, and has gone over
to the General’s. Hush a minit. Thought
I heard Chyd’s voice. Well, I’m going
to poke round a little, and it’s not worth while
to tell you to make yourself at home.”
He went out, and I heard him humming
a tune as he tramped slowly down the stairs.
I took a seat near the window. Voices reached
me, and, looking down through the branches of a mulberry
tree, I saw Guinea sitting on a bench, and near her
stood Chyd Lundsford. In his hand he held a switch
and with it he was slowly cutting at a bloom on a vine
that grew about the tree. He was talking.
Guinea’s face was turned upward and her hands
were clasped behind her head. I could look down
into her eyes, but she did not see me, and I felt a
sense of self-reproach at thus watching her, listening
for her to speak, and I thought to get up, but my
legs refused to move, and I sat there, looking down
into her eyes. Her face was pale and her lips,
which had seemed to me in bloom with the rich juice
of life, were now drawn thin.
“Of course, I was wrong,”
he said, “but I’m not the first man that
ever did a wrong. And I should think that as
a broad-minded and generous woman you could forgive
me. I don’t think that you can find any
man who would take any better care of you than I would.
I’ve got no romance about me, and why should
I have? I can just remember seeing the trail of
that monster called advancement that mighty
thing called progress, though in the guise of war,
and that thing swallowed the romance of this country.
I say that I can remember seeing the fading trail,
but I know its history and I know that if it did not
swallow romance it should have done so. I don’t
suppose I could ever think as much of any woman as
I do of you, and I know that no woman could make my
house so bright and cheerful. I was afraid of
any complication that might hurt my prospects as a
physician, my standing in the opinion of a careful
and discriminating public; so, influenced by that
sense of self-protection, I broke our engagement.
But now I beg of you to renew it.”
“On your knees!” she said, without looking
at him.
“Now, Guinea, that’s ridiculous.
I am willing to make all sorts of amends ”
“On your knees!” she said.
“I see that there is no use
to appeal to your reason. I suppose, however,
that the way to reason with a woman is to gratify her
whim and then appeal to her sense. It is a foolish
thing to do, but in order to secure a hearing I will
do as you say.”
He sank upon his knees. She glanced
down at him and then looked up at the sky. He
began to talk, but she stopped him with a motion of
her hand.
“You have heard the preacher
say that we must be born again,” she said.
“I have been born again born into
the kingdom of love, and I find myself in a rapturous
heaven. Get up.” He obeyed, and she
continued. “And you are so far from this
kingdom that I cannot see you you are off
somewhere in the dark, and to me your words are cold.
But there is one who stands in the light and I must
go to him.”
I sprang from my seat and hastened
down the stairs. My heart beat fast, and I trembled.
I was frightened like a child, like a timid overgrown
boy, who is called to the table to sit beside a girl
whom he slyly worships; and I ran away down
the path to the spring. I heard her calling me,
and I stood there trembling, waiting for a holy spirit
that was searching for me; and worship made me dumb.
She came down the path, and, seeing me, hastened toward
me with her head bent forward and her hands held out.
And I caught her in my arms, swept her off the ground
and held her to my beating heart.
And over the stones the water was
laughing, and the strip of green moss-land flashed
in the sun. I saw the old man walking up the ravine,
with his hands behind him, and I caught the faint sound
of a tune he was humming. Slowly her arms came
from about my neck, and hand in hand we walked toward
the house, she in the shining path, I on the green
sward; and as we drew near we saw Alf and Millie,
standing under a tree, waiting for us.