Part 32 (1/2)
”I believe I would take his advice, Louise,” she said at last. ”I have not noticed the man much beyond the fact that he has been wonderfully attentive to your wants. What do you think of him--or of his motives?”
”I believe they are good,” said the girl, promptly. ”He is dissatisfied; I can see that--one of the insurrection sort who are always restless. He's entirely bound up in the issue of the war, as regards his own people. He suspects me and because he suspects me tries to warn me--to be my friend. When I am gone you may need some one here, and of all I see he is the one to be most trusted, though, perhaps, Dr. Delaven--”
”Is out of the question,” and Judithe's decision was emphatic. ”These people are his friends.”
”They are yours, too, Marquise,” said the girl, smiling a little; but no smile answered her, a slight shade of annoyance--a tiny frown--bent the dark brows.
”Yes, I remember that sometimes, but I possess an antidote,” she replied, lightly. ”You know--or perhaps you do not know--that it is counted a virtue in a Gypsy to deceive a Georgio--well, I am fancying myself a Gypsy. In the Mohammedan it is a virtue to deceive the Christian, and I am a Mohammedan for the moment. In the Christian it was counted for centuries a mark of special grace if he despoil the Jew, until generations of oppression showed the wanderer the real G.o.d held sacred by his foes--money, my child, which he proceeded to garner that he might purchase the privileges of other races. So, with my Jewish name as a foundation, I have created an imaginary Jewish ancestor whose wrongs I take up against the people of a Christian land; I add all this debt to the debt Africa owes this enlightened nation, and I shall help to pay it.”
The eyes of Louise widened at this fantastical reason. She was often puzzled to determine whether the Marquise was entirely serious, or only amusing herself with wild fancies when she touched on pondrous questions with gay mockery.
Just now she laughed as she read dismay in the maid's face.
”Oh, it is quite true, Louise, it _is_ a Christian land--and more, it is the most Christian portion of a Christian land, because the South is entirely orthodox; only in the North will you find a majority of skeptics, atheists, and agnostics. Though they may be scarcely conscious of it themselves, it is because of their independent heterodox tendencies that they are marching today by thousands to war against a slavery not their own--the most righteous motive for a war in the world's history; but it cannot be denied that they are making war against an eminently Christian inst.i.tution.” And she smiled across at Louise, whose philosophy did not extend to the intricacies of such questions.
”I don't understand even half the reasons back of the war,” she confessed, ”but the thing I do understand is that the black man is likely to have a chance for freedom if the North wins, and that's the one question to me. Miss Evilena said yesterday it was all a turmoil got up by Yankee politicians who will fill their pockets by it.”
”Oh, that was after Judge Clarkson's call; she only quoted him in that, and he is right in a way,” she added; ”there is a great deal of political jugglery there without a vestige of patriotism in it, but they do not in the least represent the great heart of the people of the North; _they_ are essentially humanitarians. So you see I weigh all this, with my head, not my heart,” she added, quizzically, ”and having done so--having chosen my part--I can't turn back in the face of the enemy, even when met by smiles, though I confess they are hard weapons to face. It is a battle where the end to be gained justifies the methods used.”
”_Ma belle_, Marquise,” murmured the girl, in the untranslatable caress of voice and eyes. ”Sometimes I grow afraid, and you scatter the fear by your own fearlessness. Sometimes I grow weak, and you strengthen me with reasons, reasons, reasons!”
”That is because the heart is not allowed to hamper the head.”
”Oh, you tease me. You speak to me like a guardian angel of my people; your voice is like a trumpet, it stirs echoes in my heart, and the next minute you laugh as though it were all a play, and I were a child to be amused.”
”'And each man in his time plays many parts,'” quoted Judithe, thoughtfully, then with a mocking glance she added: ”But not so many as women do.”
”There--that is what I mean. One moment you are all seriousness and the next--”
”But, my child, it is criminal to be serious all the time; it kills the real life and leads to melancholia. You would grow morbid through your fears if I did not laugh at them sometimes, and it would never--never do for me to approve them.”
She touched the girl's hand softly with her own and looked at her with a certain affectionate chiding.
”You are going away from me, Louise, and you must not go in dread or despondency. It may not be for long, perhaps, but even if it should be, you must remember that I love you--I trust you. I pity you for the childhood and youth whose fate was no choice of yours. Never forget my trust in you; when we are apart it may comfort you to remember it.”
The girl looked at her with wide black eyes, into which the tears crept.
”Marquise,” she whispered, ”you talk as if you might be sending me away for always. Oh, Marquise--”
Judithe raised her hand warningly.
”Be a soldier, child,” she said, softly, ”each time we separate for even a day--you and I--we do not know that we will ever meet again.
These are war times, you know.”
”I know--but I never dreaded a separation so much; I wish you were not to remain. Perhaps that Pluto's words made me more nervous--it is so hard to tell how much he guesses, and those people--the Lorings--”
”I think I shall be able to manage the Lorings,” said her mistress, with a rea.s.suring smile, ”even the redoubtable Matthew--the tyrannical terror of the county; so cheer up, Louise. Even the longest parting need only be a lifetime, and I should find you at the end of it.”