The Homesteader: A Novel

  CHAPTER VII

  THE DAY BEFORE

  Never since the night at the sod house had Agnes Stewart been the sameperson. She could not seem to dismiss Jean Baptiste, and the instance ofher providence in getting lost and thereby saving him, from her mind.His strange words and singular recognition of her was baffling. Being sovery curious therefore, she had since learned that he was well known inthe community and held in popular favor.

  She knew little and understood less with regard to predestination; butshe had, since meeting him, recalled that he was the one she had seen inher dream--and loved! She tried to laugh away such a freak; but do whatshe might, she grew more curious to see him again as the days passed; totalk with him, and learn at last what she was anxious to know--curiousto know. _How did he come to utter her name and say that he had waited?_

  And, coincident with this, she recalled anew what she had learned--whichpositively was little--regarding her mother. She had been told that sheinherited that one's peculiarity; that her mother had possessed rareeyes, which in a measure explained her own. But she had not been told orknew why her mother had arranged the legacy as she had. Not until theday before she was to marry must she know. And then should she not havewon a husband to herself by the time she had reached thirty, she was tohave the same then, anyhow. Singular, but in a sense practical.

  Well, it was so, and she could only sigh and be patient. Most girls shehad known back in "Nubbin Ridge" were usually married by the time theyhad reached her present age. But she was not quite like other girls, anddid not even have a beau.

  She wondered if the man she had saved had a sweetheart. And when shethought of this, she had a feeling that she would know in time. And asthe days passed she began at last to believe that in some manner hewould play a part in her own life. But Agnes Stewart was too innocent toknow--at least appeared not to be aware of--_the custom of the countryand its law_, and therefore could not appreciate the invisible andsocially invincible barrier between them. 'Twas only the man JeanBaptiste she saw and reckoned according to what she understood.Therefore, because she could get nowhere in her wonderings, as adiversion she turned to the little diary and recorded therein:

  JANUARY 20TH, 19-- I have not had the patience since arriving here to record any of the events that have transpired since we left Indiana. We have been here now nearly three weeks. Have not as yet had time to draw any conclusion with regard to the country, but this much I can cheerfully say--and which did not prevail back where we came from--there is spirit in the country, the spirit of the Pioneer.

  The weather has been cold, cold every day since we arrived. Because we ran out of urgent provisions soon after coming here I ventured to go to Gregory, which is seven miles distant, for some more. I have been too much upset over what took place on that memorable trip to say much about it. Because I have never kept anything from him, I told papa how I started from the town, became lost, and stayed all night at a house and saved a man thereby. He has been so frightened over what happened that he will not let me go anywhere alone again--not even in the daytime. "Just think, my girl," he has said time and again, "supposing you had not stumbled into that house, you would surely have frozen to death on the plains!" I somehow feel that Dolly would have brought me home; but that is a matter for conjecture. But what I say to papa in return is: "Had I not gotten lost, that man that is known so well about the country must surely have suffered death!" This seems to pacify him, and he is pleased after all to know that my getting lost was so provident and opportune.

  He has met the man, Jean Baptiste, (such an odd name,) and likes him very much--in fact, he is very much carried away with him. I have not seen him since the morning I left him at his sod house; but I cannot get out of my mind the events that passed while I was there. Always I can see him look up into my eyes with that strange recognition, and then as he turned, call "_Agnes, it is you. I'm glad you have come for I've waited for you so long._" What that means I would give most half my life to know. I know that I shall never rest in peace until I have become well enough acquainted with him to ask him why and how he knew me. Then followed the morning when he talked to himself and did not know I heard. It is all so vivid in my mind.

  Of late I have had an uncontrollable desire. I have wanted to know more of my mother. It seems that if I could have known her, I would understand myself better. I am positive now, that she must have been a rare person. That she was French and very high tempered, papa has told me; and also that she had lived in the West Indies before he met her, but that she was born in France. As to the legacy, he lays that to her peculiarity. She was always peculiar in a way, says he; and that at all times she was mysterious. She had been over almost all the world, and was wise in many things. He thinks I have inherited much of her wit, and that eventually it will express itself in some manner, which is all so strange. I hope, however, it will. To rise in some manner out of the simple, uneventful life I've lived would certainly be appreciated; but whatever it is I cannot conclude.

  Should I ever rise in any way, I feel now it would be due in some manner to my meeting that strange colored man. I have wondered so often since meeting him, how it feels to be a Negro. Papa and I have discussed it often since. I understand there is a sort of prejudice against the race in this country; that in the South they are held down and badly treated; that in the North, even, they are not fairly treated. Papa and I were both agreed about it. We cannot understand why one should be disliked because his skin is dark; or because his ancestors were slaves. But withal I cannot understand how one could deal unfairly with them because of this. It is said that some of the race are very ignorant and vicious; that they very often commit the unspeakable crime. I suppose that is possible. If so, then they should be educated. Take this Jean Baptiste, for instance, an educated man, and what a gentleman! But papa, (he is very vindictive!) he says that only about half the colored people in this country are full blood; that in the days of slavery and since, even, the white man who is very often ready to abuse the black men, has been the cause of this mixture.... I should think their consciences would disturb them.

  Oh, well, I am glad that I have grown up where prejudice against races is not a custom. My mother was French; my father Scotch all through, and because I know him and am so ingrained with his liberal traditions--even tho' he be poor,--I am at peace with all mankind.

  We haven't all the money we need, and the fact worries me. Papa says he will hire Bill to some one if any one should need help. It might be that the colored man will hire him, maybe. They say he is going to hire a man. Papa intends to speak to him about it. The only thing that worries us is that we have to explain that weakness in Bill and George. George is impossible: too slow, talks too much, and would never earn his salt. But if one is patient with Bill until he catches on, he is an excellent worker, and faithful. I wish the colored man would give him the job. He owns the quarter that corners with us, which he expects to complete breaking out and putting into flax next summer, so we are told. If Bill could get that job it would be handy. Handy for Bill, for Mr. Baptiste, and for us.

  We have not met many people as yet. Because it is so cold to get out, I haven't met any so to speak; but papa appears to be getting acquainted right along. We are going to town--to Gregory again Saturday. I am looking forward to it with pleasant anticipation. I sincerely trust it will be a beautiful day. In the meantime the clock has struck one, papa is turning over in bed and I can hear him. I'll hear his voice presently, so I will close this with hopes that Saturday will be a beautiful day and that I'll meet and become acquainted with some nice people.