Part 50 (1/2)

”You cannot know. I have taken an oath.”

”And it separates us?”

”Yes.”

”But why--if--you--love--me--and I love--you--”

She paused and blushed scarlet. She had told a man her love before he had spoken. But he _had_ spoken! His voice, his tears, his tones had told her.

He looked at her a moment, trembling. He spoke one word at a time as if he had no breath to finish the sentence.

”It's--sweet--to--hear--your--dear--lips--say--that--you--love--me--G.o.d knows I love you--you-dear-little-angel-sent-from heaven! I'm not worthy to touch your hand and yet I'm crus.h.i.+ng it--I can't help it--I can't-I can't.”

She slipped into his arms and he crushed her to his heart.

”I love you,” she whispered. ”I can trust you. I'll never ask your secret until you wish to tell me. Just love me, forever. That's all I ask.”

”I can do that, and I will!” he answered solemnly.

They were married the next night in the parsonage of the Methodist Church of which she was a member. And the foundation was laid for a tragedy involving more lives than one.

CHAPTER XXVIII

From an old log farmhouse on the hills of Maryland,--overlooking the town of Harper's Ferry, the panther was crouching to spring.

For four months in various disguises Brown had reconnoitered the mountains around the gorge of the two rivers. He had climbed the peak and looked into the county of Fauquier with its swarming slave population. Each week he piloted his wagon to the town of Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, thirty-five miles back in the hills.

The Humanitarians through their agents were s.h.i.+pping there, day by day, the powder, lead, guns, knives, torches and iron pikes the Chosen One had asked.

These pious men met him for a final conference in the home of Gerrit Smith, the preacher philanthropist of Peterboro.

The canny old huntsman revealed to them just enough to excite the unconscious archaic impulse beneath the skin of culture. He told them that he was going to make a daring raid into the heart of the Old South and rescue as many of the ”oppressed” as possible. They knew that the raid into Missouri had resulted in murder and that he rode back into Kansas with the red stains on his hands.

Brown gained their support by this carefully concealed appeal to their subconscious natures. As the crowd of eager faces bent close to catch, the details of his scheme, the burning eyes of the leader were suddenly half closed. Silence followed and they watched the two pin points of light in vain.

Each pious man present caught the smell of human blood. Yet each pious man carefully concealed this from himself and his neighbor until it would be approved by all. Had the bald facts behind the enterprise been told in plain English, religion and culture would have called a halt. The elemental impulse of the Beast must therefore be carefully concealed.

Every man present knew that they were sending Brown on a man-hunt. They knew that the results might mean bloodshed. They knew, as individuals, exactly what was being said and what was being planned. Its details they did not wish to know. The moral significance--the _big_ moral significance of the deed was something apart from the b.l.o.o.d.y details.

The Great Deed could be justified by the Higher Law, the Greater Glory of G.o.d. They were twisting the moral universe into accord with the elemental impulse of the brute that sleeps beneath every human skin.

The Great Deed about to be done would be glorious, its actors heroes and martyrs of a Divine Cause. They knelt in prayer and their Chosen Leader invoked the blessings of the Lord of Hosts upon them and upon his disciples in the Divine Cause.

The hour of Action was now swiftly approaching. Cook had become a book agent. With his pretty Virginia wife his figure became familiar to every farm, in the county. He visited every house where a slave was to be found. He sold maps as well as books. He also sketched maps in secret when he reached the quiet of his home while his happy little bride sang at her work.

He carefully compiled a census of slaves at the Ferry and in the surrounding country. So sure had he become of the success of the blow when it should fall, that he begged his Chief to permit him to begin to whisper the promise of the uprising to a few chosen men among the slaves.

The old man's eyes; flamed with anger.

”You have not done this already?” he growled.