A Woman Named Smith Page 3

  CHAPTER II

  AND ARIEL MAKES MUSIC

  We had wired Judge Gatchell when to expect us, but the venerablenegro hackman who was on the lookout for us explained that the judgehad a "misery in the laigs" which confined him to his room, and thathe advised us to go to the hotel for a while.

  We couldn't, for wasn't our own house waiting for us? A minute laterwe had bundled into the ancient hack and were bumping and splashingthrough unpaved streets, getting wet, gray glimpses of old houses inold gardens, and every now and then a pink crape-myrtle blushing inthe pouring rain. Hyndsville was, it seemed, one of those sprawling,easy-going old Carolina towns that liked plenty of elbow-room andwasn't particular about architectural order. Hynds House itself wason the extreme edge of things.

  The hack presently stopped before a high iron gate in a waist-highbrick wall with a spiked iron railing on top of it, the wholeoverrun with weeds and creepers. Of Hynds House itself one couldn'tsee anything but a stack of chimneys above a forest of trees.

  The gate creaked and groaned on its rusty hinges; then we werewalking up a weedy, rain-soaked path where untrimmed branchesslapped viciously at our faces, and tough brambles, like snares andgins, tried to catch our feet. On each side was a jungle. Of asudden the path turned, widened into a fairly cleared space; andHynds House was before us.

  We had expected a fair-sized dwelling-house in its garden. And thereconfronted us, glooming under the gray and threatening sky thatseemed the only proper and fitting canopy for it, what looked like apile reared in medieval Europe rather than a home in America. Itsstained brick walls, partly covered with ivy and lichens; itssmokeless chimneys; its barred doors; its many shuttered windows,like blind eyes--all appeared deliberately to thrust aside humanhabitancy.

  _A residence for woman, child, and man, A dwelling-place,--and yet no habitation; A House,--but under some prodigious ban Of Excommunication._

  Yet there was nothing ruinous about it, for the Hyndses had soughtto build it as the old Egyptians sought to build their temples--tolast forever, to defy time and decay. It was not only meant to be aplace for Hyndses to be born and live and die in: it was a monumentto Family Pride, a brick-and-granite symbol of place and power.

  The walls were of an immense thickness, the corners furtherstrengthened with great blocks of granite. The house had but twostories, with an attic under its sloping roofs, but it gave aneffect of height as well as of solidity. Behind it was another brickbuilding, the lower part of which had been used for stables andcarriage house, and the upper portion as quarters for the houseslaves, in the old days. Another smaller building, slate-roofed andivy covered, was the spring-house, with a clear, cold little springstill bubbling away as merrily in its granite basin, as if all theHyndses were not dead and gone. And there was a deep well, protectedby a round stone wall, with a cupola-like roof supported by fourslender pillars. And everything was dank and weedy and splotchedwith mildew and with mold.

  _O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear A sense of mystery the spirit daunted And said, as plain as whisper in the ear, The place is Haunted!_

  When we opened the great front door, above which was the fan-lightof Alicia's hope, just as the round front porch had the big pillars,a damp and moldy air met us. The house had not been opened sinceSophronisba's funeral, and everything--stairs, settles, tables,cabinets, pictures, the chairs backed inhospitably against the wallas if to prevent anybody from sitting in them--was covered with ashrouding pall of dust.

  The hall was cross-shaped, the side passage running between the backdrawing-room and library on one side, and the dining-room and twolocked rooms on the other. It was a nice place, that side passage,with a fireplace and settles; and beautiful windows opening upon thetangled garden. All the down-stairs walls were paneled: preciouswoods were not so hard to come by when Hynds House was built. It waslovely, of course, but depressingly dark.

  We got one of the big windows open, and let some stale damp air outand some fresh damp air in. Then, having despatched our hackman forcertain necessities, Alicia and I turned and stared at each other,another Alicia and Sophy staring back at us from a dim and dustymirror opposite. If, at that moment, I could have heard the familiarbuzzer at my elbow! If I could have heard the good everyday New York"Miss Smith, attend to this, please"! God wot, if I had notliterally burned my bridges behind me--Oh, oh, I had!

  "The garden around this house,"--Alicia spoke in awhisper--"stretches to the end of the world and then laps over. Ithasn't been trimmed since Adam and Eve moved out. But thosecrape-myrtle trees are quite the loveliest things left over fromParadise, and I'm glad we came here to see them with our own eyes!Brace up, Sophy! We'll feel heaps better when we've had something toeat. Aren't you frightfully hungry, and doesn't a chill suspicionstrike you, somewhere around the wishbone, that if that AncientMariner of a hackman doesn't get back soon we shall starve?"

  At that moment, from somewhere--it seemed to us from up-stairs--asudden flood of sweetest sound poured goldenly through that sad,dim, dusty house, as if a blithe spirit had slipped in unawares andwas bidding us welcome. For a few wonderful moments the exquisitemusic filled the dark old place and banished gloom and neglect anddecay; then, with a pattering scamper, as of the bare, rosy feet ofa beloved and mischievous child making a rush for his crib, it wentas suddenly as it had come. There was nothing to break the silencebut the swishing downpour of the outside rain.

  When I could speak: "It came from up-stairs! Somebody's playing aviolin up-stairs. I'm going up-stairs to find out who it is."

  Alicia demurred: "It may be a real person, Sophy!--a real personwith a real violin. But I'd rather believe it's Ariel's self, comeout of those pink crape-myrtles. Don't go up-stairs, please, Sophy!"

  "Nonsense!" said I. "Somebody's played a violin and I mean to knowwho he is!"

  And up-stairs I went, into a huge dark hall, with the cross-passagecutting it, and closed doors everywhere. At the front end was a mostbeautiful window, opening doorlike upon a tiny iron bird-cage of abalcony, hung up Southern fashion under the roof of the pillaredfront porch. At the rear a more ordinary door opened upon the broadveranda that ran the full width of the house. Both door and windowwere closed, and bolted on the inside, and the big, dark, dustyrooms which I resolutely entered were quite empty, their fireplacesboarded up, their windows close-shuttered. There was no signanywhere of violin or player. I went down-stairs just as wise as Ihad gone up.

  "I told you it was Ariel!" Alicia stood by the open window--ourwindows are sunk into the walls, and cased with solid black walnutas Impervious to decay as the granite itself--and leaned out to thewet and dripping garden.

  "Sophy," said she, in her high, sweet voice that carries like athrush's. "Sophy, the best thing about this world is, that the bestthings in it aren't really _real_. This is one of its enchantedplaces. Sycorax used to live in this house: that's what you feelabout it yet. But now she's gone, her spell is lifting, and HyndsHouse is going to come alive and be young again!"

  "At least," I grumbled, "admit that the dust inside and the rainoutside and the weeds and mud are real; and I'm really hungry!"

  "Me too!" Alicia assented instantly and ungrammatically. "Oh, for asquare meal!" She thrust her charming head out far enough for therain to splatter on her bright hair and whip it into curls, andbring a deeper shade of pink to her cheeks, and a deeper blueto her eyes. "Ariel!" she fluted, "Spirit of the Violin, I'mhungry--earthily, worm-of-the-dustly, unromantically hungry! Send ussomething to eat."

  "Why don't you rap on one of the tables," I suggested ironically,"and call up your high spirits to do your bidding?"

  "My high spirits won't be above making you a soothing cup of coffeejust as soon as that ancient African returns. In the meantime,let's look around us."

  People had forests to draw from when they built rooms like those inHynds House. There were eight of them on the first floor. On oneside the two drawing-rooms, the library,
and behind that a roomevidently used for an office. We didn't know it then, of course, butthat library was treasure trove. Almost every book and pamphletcovering the early American settlements, that is of any value atall, is in Hynds House library; we have some pamphlets that even theBritish Museum lacks.

  The rooms had enough furniture to stock half a dozen antique-shops,all of it in a shocking state, the brocades in tatters, the carvingscaked with dust. You couldn't see yourself in the tarnished mirrors,the portraits were black with dirt, and most of the prints werebadly stained. Alicia swooped upon a pair of china dogs with mauveeyes and black spots and sloppy red tongues, on a what-not in acorner. She said she had been aching for a china dog ever since shewas born.

  "Oh, Sophy!" cried she, dancing, "wasn't it heavenly of that oldsoul to die and leave you two whole china dogs! I wouldn't wantsure-enough dogs that looked like these, but as china dogs they'reperfect! And cast your eyes about you, Sophy! Have you ever in allyour life seen a house that needed so much done to it as this housedoes?

  "'If seven maids with seven mops, Swept it for half a year, Do you suppose,' the Walrus said, 'That that would make it clear?' 'I doubt it,' said the Carpenter, 'And--'

  "Sophy! I shall clean some of these windows myself. Did you knowthat Queen Victoria, when she was a child, had the same virtuousinclination? Well, she had, and you see how she turned out!"

  "I don't believe it!"

  "Don't be skeptical!--Look at that pink mustache-cup over there onthat little table! Who do you suppose had a mustache and drank outof that cup? It couldn't have been Sophronisba herself? _I_insist that it was a black-mustached Confederate with a red sasharound his waist. I adore Confederates! They're the most glamorous,romantic figures in American history. I wish a black mustache wentalong with the cup and the house; don't you? It would make things somuch more interesting!" And she began to sing, at the top of hervoice, in the sad and faded room that hadn't heard a singing voicethese many, many years:

  "'Arrah, Missis McGraw,' the Captain said, 'Will ye make a sojer av your son Ted? Wid a g-r-rand mus-tache, an' a three-cocked hat, Wisha, Missis McGraw, wouldn't you like that! _You like that--tooroo looroo loo!_ _Wisha, Missis McGraw, wouldn't you like that!_'"

  If Great-Aunt Sophronisba's ghost, and the scandalized ghosts of allthe haughy Hyndses ever intended to walk, now was the accepted time!And as if that graceless ballad were the signal for something tohappen, upon the hall window-shutter sounded three loud, imperativeknocks.

  Alicia dashed down the hall.

  "Sophy!" she called, breathlessly, "Sophy!"

  Framed in the open window, with the dripping trees and the slantingrain behind him, was the bizarre, the astounding figure of agnomelike negro in a terra-cotta robe fastened about the waist witha girdle made of a twisted black shawl with the most beautifulPersian border and fringe. A striped silk scarf was boundturban-wise about his head, from which tufts of snowy woolprotruded. From his ears hung crescent-shaped silver ear-ringsstudded with coral and turquoise; a necklace of the same barbaricmagnificence was about his neck, and his arms were covered withbracelets. His deep-set eyes, his flat nose, his mouth set in athousand fine wrinkles, the whole aspect of him, breathed a sly andimpish drollery. He glanced from Alicia to me with the smilingmalice of a jinnee delighted to mystify mortals. Then with a rapidmovement he shifted the umbrella he carried over a largelinen-covered tray, eased the latter upon the deep window-ledge, andbeckoned with a very black and beringed hand.

  "For _us_?" breathed Alicia.

  With a fine flourish he swept aside the linen covering. And therewas golden-brown chicken, white rice, cream gravy, hot biscuit, coolsliced tomatoes with sprigs of green parsley, fresh butter, freshcream, a great slab of heavenly cake, a wicker basket of Elbertapeaches, rain-cooled, odorous, delicious, and a pot of steamingcoffee. On the edge of the tray was a cluster of rain-washed roses.

  "No," Alicia doubted, "this is not true: it can't be!--Sophy, do yousee it, too?"

  He motioned her to take the tray; and his ear-rings swung, and allhis bracelets set up a silver tinkling. An automobile honked outsidein the street shut off by our garden trees, and a dog barked. Ourjinnee cocked a cautious head and a listening ear, thrust the trayupon Alicia, and with inconceivable swiftness vanished around acorner.

  "Let's hurry and eat it before it, too, takes to its heels," saidAlicia, practically. Without further ado we dragged forward a smalltable, and fell to. Aladdin probably tasted fare like that, thefirst time he rubbed the magic lamp.

  When we had polished the last chicken bone, and had that comfortablefeeling that nothing can give so thoroughly as a good meal, Aliciacarefully examined the china and silver.

  "Old blue-and-white English china; English silver initialed 'R.H.G.'Sophy, handle this prayerfully: it's an apostle spoon. Think ofhaving a jinnee fetch you your coffee, and of stirring it with anapostle spoon."

  She spoke reverently. Alicia is the sort who flattens her noseagainst antique-shop windows, and would go without dessert for amonth of Sundays and trudge afoot to save carfare, if thereby shemight buy an old print, or a bit of pottery; just as I am content toadmire the print or the pottery in the shop window, feeling surethat when they are finally sold to somebody better able to buy them,something else I can admire just as much will take their place. Mineis a philosophy not altogether to be despised, though Alicia rejectsit. She handled the blue-and-white ware with tender hands, laid thesilver together, and set the tray upon the window-ledge. Then, on aleaf of my pocket memorandum--she never carries one of her own--shescribbled the following absurdity and pinned it to the linen cover:

  Ariel, accept the gratitude of mortals set down hungry in the house of Sycorax. Gay and kind spirit, when we broke your bread you broke her spell: the wishbone of your chicken has cooked her goose! Maker of Music, Donator of Dinners, thanks!

  "And now," said she, "having been serenaded, and satisfied withnothing short of perfection, let's go up-stairs, Sophy, and decidewhere we shall sleep to-night."

  We chose the front room because of a gate-legged table that Aliciawanted to say her prayers beside, and because of the particularlyfine portrait of a colonial gentleman above the mantel, a veryhandsome man in claret-colored satin, with a vest of flowered goldbrocade, a gold-hilted sword upon which his fine fingers rested, anda pair of silk-stockinged legs of which he seemed complacentlyaware.

  "I wish you weren't dead," Alicia told him regretfully. "Your tastein clothes is above all praise, though I fancy you were somewhat toovain of your legs, sir. I never knew before that men had legs likethat, did you, Sophy?"

  "I take no pleasure in the legs of a man." I quoted the Psalmistacridly enough.

  "Don't pay any attention to Sophy," Alicia advised the portrait,naughtily. "Just to prove how much we both admire you, you shallhave Ariel's roses." She had brought them up-stairs with us, and nowshe walked over to the mantel to place them beneath the picture.

  "Why!" exclaimed Alicia, "why!" and she held up nothing moreremarkable than a package of cigarettes, evidently left thererecently, for it was not dusty.

  "I dare say Judge Gatchell forgot it, when he was looking over thehouse. That reminds me: the silver you admired so much was marked'G.' Then, in all probability, Judge Gatchell sent us that spread,and very thoughtful it was of him, I must say."

  "Rheumatic old judges don't smoke superfine cigarettes, Sophy, norsend black tray-bearers in terra-cotta robes out on rainy days forthe entertainment of strange ladies. No: this is something, orsomebody, _young_. But since when did Ariel take to tobacco?"

  "Let's go down-stairs," I suggested, "and wait for that old darky,if he is a real darky and ever means to return." I did not fancythose big forlorn rooms, with their great beds that didn't seem madefor people to sleep and dream in, but to stay awake and worry overtheir sins--and then die in.

  The down-sta
irs halls had grown darker, and the rain came down in agray sheet, so that the open window seemed a hole cut into it. Thetray we had left on the window-ledge was gone. In its place wasnothing more romantic than a freshly filled and trimmed kerosenelamp, two candles, and a box of matches.

  When our Jehu finally returned he rummaged out some firewood fromthe sooty kitchen and built us a fire in the hall. He was a pleasantold negro, garrulous and kindly, by name Adam King, or, as heinformed us, "Unc' Adam" to all Hyndsville folks.

  "Uncle Adam," Alicia asked, while he was drying himself before theblazing logs, "Uncle Adam, who's the violinist around here?"

  Uncle Adam looked at the Yankee lady a bit doubtfully. The oldfellow was slightly deaf, but he would have died rather than admitit.

  "Wellum," he told us, "since ol' Mis' Scarlett's gone, folks doessay de doctor is. Dat's 'cause ob de Hynds' blood in 'im. All demHyndses was natchelly de violentest kind o' pussons, an' Doctor, heain't behin' de do'." He rubbed his hands and chuckled. "Lawd, yes!I know de Doctor, man an' boy, an' he suttinly rips an' ta'hs whenhe's riled! You ought ter seen 'im de day ol' Mis' Scarlett let flywid 'er shot-gun an' blowed de tails spang off'n two of 'is hens an'de haid off'n 'is prize rooster! De fowls come thoo' de haidge, an'ol' Mis' grab 'er gun an' blaze away. De Doctor hear de squallation,an' come flyin' outer de office an' right ovah de haidge. I 'uztotin' fiahwood fo' ol' Mis' dat day, an' I drap een de bushes; itain't no place fo' sensible niggahs when white folks grab shot-guns.Doctor see me an' holler: 'Adam! git outer dem bushes, you ol' fool!You my witness what dis hellion's done to my fowls!'

  "Ol' Mis' Scarlett she s'anter ter de winder wid 'er gun sort o'hangin' loose, an' holler: 'Adam! Come outer dem bushes 'fo' Ipickle yo' hide! You my witness ob dis ruffian trispassin' on myprop'ty an' cussin' an' seducin' a ol' woman widout 'er consent,'she says. 'Has I retched my age,' says ol' Mis' Scarlett, 'to havehis fowls ruinin' my gyardin', an' him whut's a dunghill roosterhimself flyin' ovah my fences unbeknownst?'

  "'If there evah was a leather-hided ol' hen ripe foh roastin' onBeelzebub's own griddle, it's you, you gallows ol' witch!' saysDoctor, shakin' 'is fist up at her.

  "'Aha! I got a plain case!' says ol' Mis', grim-like. 'I'll have awarrant out foh you dis day, Geddes, you owdacious villyum!'

  "And she done it. Yas'm. An' dey done sont de shariff atter me forwitness, all two bofe o' dem."

  "Well, and what did you do?" I asked, curiously. I was getting aside-light on Great-Aunt Sophronisba.

  "Me? I got on muh knees an' wrastled wid de speret," said UncleAdam. "I done tuck mah troubles to de Lawd, whichin He _'bleeged_ter know I cyant deal wid ol' Mis' Scarlett an' de Doctor. Missis, Iprayed!"

  "Oh! And what happened then?"

  The old man looked around him, cautiously, and lowered his voice:"Wellum, Mis' Scarlett she tuck an' went an' up an' died. Yessum!She done daid. An' next thing we-all heah, she 'd went an' lef deHynds place to youna, 'stead ob de Doctor, or dat furriner."

  "She had Hynds relatives, then? I didn't know."

  "Wellum, de Doctor an' ol' Mis' Scarlett wuz cousins. Dat's how comedey could fight so powerful. Ain't you nevah had no relations tofight wid, ma'ams?"

  We explained, regretfully, that we hadn't.

  "Den you ain't nevah knowed, an' you ain't nevah gwine ter knew,whut real, sho-nough fightin' _is_," said Unc' Adam, withconviction.

  "You mentioned a foreigner," hinted Alicia.

  The old man shook his head deprecatingly. "Don't seem lak I evahable to rickermembah dat boy's name, nohow. His grampa' 'uz a Hynds,likewise his ma, but she 'sisted on marryin' er furriner, an' deboy takes atter de furriners 'stead er we-all. 'Taint de po' boy'sfault, but ol' Mis' Scarlett hated 'im wuss 'n pizen. De only noticeshe take er de boy is ter warrant 'im fo' trispassin'. Dat 's howcome folkses ter say--" he paused suddenly.

  "Well, what do folks say?" I wanted to know.

  "Well, Missis," he admitted, "dey say it's natchel to fight wid yo'kin whilst you 're livin', but 'taint natchel ter carry de fightinter de grave-yahd. Dat's whut she done, ma'ams. An' folks isoutdone wid 'er, whichin' she ain't lef de Hynds place to deHyndses, but done tuhn it ovah ter--uh--ah--"

  "To a Yankee woman named Smith?"

  "Yessum, dat's it."

  "Had either the Doctor or the foreigner any real claim or right tothis property, do you know?"

  "No, ma'am, we-all 'lows dey ain't got no mo' law-right dan whutyou's got. Ol' Mis' Scarlett ain't _'bleeged_ ter lef it to deHyndses, but folks thinks she oughter done it, an' dey's powerfulriled 'cause she ain't. Dey minds dis wuss'n all de warrantin' an'rampagin' an' rucusses she cut up whilst she wuz wid us."

  "I see," said I, thoughtfully.

  "Missises," said the old man, anxiously, "you-all ain't meanin' terstay hyuh to-night, is you?" He seemed really distressed at thenotion. "Lemme take you-all to de hotel, please, Missises! Don'tstay hyuh to-night!"

  "Why not? What's the matter with this house?"

  Again he looked around him, stealthily.

  "It's h'anted!" said he, desperately. "Missis, listen: I 'uz comin'home from prayer-meetin', 'bout two weeks ago, walkin' back er dissame place in de dark ob de moon. An' all ob a suddin I hyuh depianner in de pahlor, _ting-a-ling-a-ling! ting-a-ling-a-ling!_ Isay, 'Who de name er Gawd in ol' Mis' Scarlett's pahlor, when deyain't nobody in it?' I look thoo de haidge, an' dey's one weenchylight in de room, an' whilst I'm lookin', it goes out! An' depianner, she's a-playin' right along! Yessum, de pianner, she's ertingalingin' by 'erself in de middle o' de night!"

  "And who was playing it, Uncle Adam?"

  "Dat's what I axin yit: who playin' Mis' Scarlett's pianner when deywasn't nobody in de house?"

  "Why didn't you find out?"

  "Who, me?" cried the old man, with horror. "If I could er borried aextra pahr er laigs from er yaller dawg, I'd a did it right den, so 'sI could run twict faster 'n I done!--Whichin' please, ma'ams, lemmetake you-all ter de hotel."

  When he saw that he couldn't prevail upon us to do so, he left usregretfully, shaking his head. He would come back early in themorning to do anything we might require. But he wouldn't stayovernight in Hynds House for any consideration. No negro in thecounty would.

  "Alicia," said I, when we had had a cup of tea made over our spiritlamp, and firelight and lamplight made the place less depressing andeerie, "Alicia, that terrible old woman has played me, like an aceup her sleeve, against her neighbors and her family. She has left mea house that needs everything done to it except to burn it down andrebuild it, and a garden that will have to be cleared out withdynamite. And she has seen to it that I have the preconceivedprejudice of all Hyndsville."

  Alicia's pretty, soft lips closed firmly.

  "Here we are and here we stay!" she said determinedly. "Nobody'sbeen disinherited to make room for us. Sophy, in all our lives wehave never had a chance to make a real home. Well, then, Hynds Houseis our chance, and I'd just like to see anybody take it away fromus!"

  "Up, Guards, and at 'em!" said I, smiling at her tone. I am slowerthan she, but even more stubborn, as the English are.

  "Tell your admiral that if he gets in my way I will blow his shipsout of the water!" said Alicia, gallantly.

  But when we went up-stairs, we took good care to lock our door, andbolt it, too. Alicia said her prayers kneeling by the gate-leggedtable, snuggled into bed between the clean sheets we had broughtwith us, tucked a china dog under her chin, and went to sleep likethe child that she was. I said the Shepherd's Psalm and went tosleep, too.

  I was awakened suddenly, and found myself sitting up in bed, staringwildly about the strange room. The house was breathlessly still. Myheart pounded against my ribs, the blood beat in my ears. I wasoppressed with a nameless terror, an anguished sense that somethinghad happened, something irremediable. The feeling was so strong thatmy throat closed chokingly.

  I am particular in thus setting it down, because it was anexperience that all of us under that roof had to undergo. You had tofight i
t, shut your mind against it, oppose your will to it like astone wall, refuse to let it master you. Then, as if defeated, itwould go as suddenly, as inexplicably, as it had come.

  That's what I did then, more by instinct than reason. But I wasexhausted when I finally got back to sleep.