The Homesteader: A Novel

by Oscar Micheaux

  CHAPTER XIX

  WHEN THE TRUTH BECAME KNOWN

  "I have hardly seen you for two days, my dear," he complained when Agneshad returned from the hearing.

  "I have been consumed with some very delicate business," she said, andnotwithstanding the excitement she was laboring under, allowed him tocaress her. At the same time he was regarding her strangely. For thefirst time he seemed to be aware of the fact that she was a ratherstrange person. He was trying to understand her eyes as everybody elsehad done, even herself.

  "Will Agnes tell me what has kept her so busy and away, I know notwhere?" he asked tenderly. "Or would she rather not--now."

  "She'd _rather_ not--now," and she tried to be jolly, although she knewshe must have failed miserably.

  "Very well, my dear. But, sweet one, when are you going to become myown?"

  She started. In the excitement she had so recently been through, thefact that she was engaged and expected to marry soon, had gone entirelyout of her mind.

  "Why, really--when?" She paused in her confusion, and he said quickly:

  "Let's just get married--today!"

  "Oh, no, please don't ask me to so soon."

  He frowned. Then he was pleasant again. "Then, when, Agnes?"

  She was still confused, and in that moment thought of the legacy. Shewas more confused. He caught her hand then, and touched her cheek withhis lips.

  After an hour she had told him of the legacy.

  "That place is less than a hundred miles from Chicago and we can justrun down there today and back this evening!" he exclaimed, shifting inanxious excitement. "We can go there and back today, and be marriedtomorrow."

  "No," she said slowly. "I'll suggest that we have the legacy broughthere, and attended to according to the will and all that has for alifetime to me been a mystery, be cleared here in your and your aunt'spresence. And the day after--I will marry you." She dropped her eyesthen in peculiar solemnity. He didn't understand her but the thrill ofwhat was to come overwhelmed him, and in the next instant he held her inhis arms.

  They explained their plans to his aunt, who, because she dislikednotoriety, readily agreed, and by special messenger the papers werebrought to the city the following day and opened according to hermother's will.

  The night before, as they were returning from the theatre, he said toher:

  "Agnes, do you know--and I trust you will pardon me if it seemssingular, but there is something about you I can never--somehow feel Inever _will_, understand." He paused then and she could see he wasembarrassed.

  "It is in your eyes. I see them in this hour and they are blue, but inthe next they are brown. Has any one ever observed the fact before?" heended.

  She nodded, affirmatively.

  "Why is it, dear?"

  "I don't know."

  "And you--you have noticed it yourself?"

  "Yes."

  "And--can't you understand it, either?"

  She acknowledged the fact with her eyes.

  "It is strange. I'll be glad when we understand this legacy."

  "I will, too."

  "It makes me feel that something's going to happen. Perhaps we--you aregoing to prove to be an heiress."

  She laughed cheerfully.

  "And then you will not want to marry me, maybe."

  She laughed again.

  "But nothing would keep me from loving you always, Agnes," he said withdeep feeling.

  "Even if the papers would show me to be descended from some horriblepirate or worse."

  "Nothing in the world could make a difference. Indeed, should the papersconnect you with something out of the ordinary, I think I would like youbetter--that is, it would add even more mystery to your alreadymysterious self."

  "Wonderful!"

  He kissed her impulsively, and in the next hour she went off to bed.

  * * * * *

  "What is this?" said her fiance's aunt, as the lawyer lifted a smallpackage from the box of documents, and as he did so, an old photographslipped and fell to the floor. It was yellow with age; but thereflection of the person was clearly discernible. All three looked at itin wonderment. Then her fiance and his aunt regarded her withapprehension. The package was untied, and all the papers gone throughand much history was therein contained. But one fact stood above allothers.

  "Is _this_ a fact?" said the aunt coldly. Never had she appeared moredignified. Her nephew stood away, regarding Agnes out of eyes in whichshe could see a growing fear.

  "Well, I hope everything is clear," said the lawyer astutely. "It seemsthat you have come into something, madam, and I trust it will prove ofvalue." She mumbled something in reply, and stood gazing at the twopictures she now held. All that had been so strange to her in life wasat last clear. She understood the changing color of her eyes, and herfather's statements that he had never quite explained. _At last she knewwho she was._

  She turned to find herself alone. She opened her lips and started tocall the others, and then hesitated. _Why had they left her?_ She lookedat the photographs she held--_and understood_.

  She gathered the documents and placed them in the box, went upstairs,slowly packed her belongings, and called a cab.

  * * * * *

  Jean Baptiste came into the granary on the old claim, and looked outover the place. And as he did so, he regarded the spot where the sodhouse had once stood and wherein he had spent many happy days. As hethought of it, the past rose before him, and he lived through thesweetness again that a harvest had once brought him. That was yearsbefore, and in that moment he wished he could bring it back again. _TheCustom of the Country and its law_ had forbid, and he had _paid thepenalty_. He wondered whether he would do the same again and sacrificeall that had been dear and risk the misery that had followed.

  He shifted, and in so doing his back was toward the road. "Withal, itwould have been awkward to have married a white woman," he muttered, andreached for the cold lunch he had brought for his meal. Bill and Georgewere eating in the field where they worked.

  "Baching is hell," he muttered aloud, and picked up a sandwich.

  "How very bad you are, Jean," he heard, and almost strained his neck inturning so quickly.

  "_Agnes!_"

  "Well, _why_ not?"

  "But--but--oh, tell me," and then he became silent and looked away,raising the sandwich to his mouth mechanically.

  "Don't eat the cold lunch, Jean. I have brought some that is warm," sosaying she uncovered the basket she carried, and he regarded it eagerly.

  "But, Agnes, how came you here? I--I--thought you--were _gettingmarried_. Are you here on--on your _wedding trip_?"

  "Oh, Lord, no! No, Jean, I am not going to marry."

  "_Not going to marry!_"

  She shook her head and affected to be sad, but a little smile playedaround her lips that he saw but didn't understand.

  "But--Agnes, _why_?"

  "Because the one to whom I was engaged--well, he wouldn't marry me," andshe laughed.

  "I wish you would make it all clear. At least tell me what itmeans--that it is so."

  "It _is_ so!" she said stoutly, and he believed her when he saw hereyes.

  "Well, I guess I'll understand by and by."

  "You _will_ understand, soon, Jean," she said kindly. "Papa willexplain--_everything_." She turned her eyes away then, and in the momenthe reached and grasped her hand. In the next instant he had dropped it,as a far away expression came into his eyes as if he had suddenlyrecalled something he would forget.

  "Jean," she cried, and came close to him. She looked up into his eyesand saw what was troubling him. She got beside him closely then. Sheplaced an arm around him, and with her free hand she lifted his lefthand over her shoulder and held his fingers as she looked away acrossthe harvest fields, and sighed lightly as she said:

  "Something happened and I was strangely glad and came herebecause--because I--just _had_ to see you, Jean."

  "Please, Jean. Y
ou--will--forget that _now_." She paused and was notaware that her arm was around him, and that his hand rested over hershoulder. Her eyes were as they had been that day near this selfsamespot years before, kind and endearing. She did not resist as she saw hismanly love and felt his body quiver.

  And almost were his lips touching hers when suddenly, she saw himhesitate, and despite the darkness of his face, she could see that inthat moment the blood seemed to leave it. He dropped the arms that hadembraced her, and almost groaned aloud. As she stood regarding him heturned and walked away with his eyes upon the earth.

  She turned then and retraced her steps, but as she went along theroadway she was thinking of him and herself and _who she was at last_.She sighed, strangely contented, and was positive--knew that in due time_he too_ must come to understand.