The Homesteader: A Novel by Oscar Micheaux
CHAPTER XVI
THE EVIL GENIUS
"Oh, Jean," breathed Orlean, from the bed, "where have you been?"
He had come unto the house then, and the man in him was much downcast.He was, and had cause to feel discouraged, sorrowful and sad. So heexplained to the one who lay upon the bed where he had been, and whathad happened to him, and why he had been delayed.
She sighed when he was through and was sorry. For a long time he was onhis knees at the bedside, and when an hour had passed, she reached andplaced her arm about his neck, and was thankful that he was spared toher, and they would live on hopeful; but both felt their loss deeply.
"I sent papa a telegram," she said presently. Because he knew he made noanswer. He knew the other would come, and he was resigned as to whatwould follow. She sighed again. Perhaps it was because she knew and alsofeared what was to follow.... She had not known her father her lifetimewithout knowing what must happen. But she loved her husband, and now inthe weak state the delivery had left her she was struggling to withstandthe subtle attack her father was sure to make.
Two days passed, and she was progressing toward health as well as couldbe expected. Since her marriage her health on the whole had improvedwonderfully. The petty aches and pains of which she complained formerlyhad gradually disappeared, and the western air had brought health andvigor to her.
And then on the third day he arrived. Moreover, he brought Ethel withhim. They rode over the hill that led to the claim in a hired rig, andBaptiste espied them as soon as they were in sight.
Our pen cannot describe what Jean Baptiste read in the eyes of N.J.McCarthy when he alighted from the buggy and went into the house. Butsuffice to say, that what had passed twenty-two years before had comeback. There was to be war between them and as it had been then Baptistewas at a disadvantage, and must necessarily accept the inevitable.
Ethel was crying, and her tears meant more than words. She had nevercried for love. It had always been something to the contrary. But wemust turn to the one in bed--and helpless!
She saw her father when he stepped from the buggy, and understood whathe carried behind his masklike face. He did not allow his eyes to reston Jean Baptiste, and she noted this. She settled back upon the pillow,and tried to compose herself for the event that was to be. Her husbandwas compromised, and could not defend himself.... Therefore it fell uponher and from the sick bed to defend him.
He was inside the house now, and came toward her, and she was frightenedwhen he was near and saw his face and what it held. Hatred within wasthere and she shuddered audibly. She closed her eyes to shut it out. Oh,the agony that came over her. She opened her eyes when his lips touchedhers, and then began the struggle that was to be hers.
"Papa," she whispered, and in her voice there was a great appeal. "Don'tblame Jean. Jean has burdens, he has responsibilities--he's all tiedup! He's good to me, he loves me, he gives me all he has." But beforeshe had finished, she knew that her appeal had fallen upon deaf ears.Her father had come--and he had brought a purpose to be fulfilled.
He caressed her; he said many foolish things, and she pretended tobelieve him; she made as if his coming had meant the saving of her life;but she knew behind all he pretended was the evil, the evil that was hisnature, and the fear that filled her breast made her weaker; made hersick.
The doctor had said that she would be able to leave the bed in ten days,probably a week; but now with grim realization of what was before hershe became weak, weaker, weakest. And all the time she saw that it wasbeing charged to Jean Baptiste, and to his neglect.
We should perhaps try to make clear at this point in this story thatJean Baptiste could have settled matters in a very simple manner....True, the manner in which he could have settled it, would be the mannerin which wars could be avoided--by sacrificing principle. He could havegone to his Majesty and played a traitor to his nature by pretending tobelieve the Elder had been right and justified in everything; whereas,he, Jean Baptiste, had been as duly wrong. He could have acted in such amanner as to have his Majesty feel that he was a great man, that he hadbeen honored by even knowing him, much less in being privileged to marryhis daughter. This, in view of the fact that having been absent from herbedside at that crucial time, he was compromised, would have satisfiedthe Elder, and Baptiste would not have been compelled to forego all thatlater came to pass in their relations. _But Jean Baptiste had aprinciple, and was not a liar, nor a coward, nor a thief._ And,although, he had been so unfortunate as not to have been by the bedsideof his wife during that hour, he could have sentimentally appeased hisfather-in-law, but Jean Baptiste had not nor will he ever in thedevelopment of this story, sink so low. Of what was to come--and themost is--in this story, Jean Baptiste at no time sacrificed his manhoodfor any cause.
N. Justine McCarthy, and this is true of too many of his race and tothis cause may be attributed many of their failures, was not a reader.He never read anything but the newspapers briefly and the Bible alittle. He was, therefore, not an informed man. As a result he tooklittle interest in, and appreciated less, what the world is thinking anddoing. He had never understood because he had not tried, what the peoplearound where Jean Baptiste had come were doing for posterity. Yet heclaimed very loudly to be an apostle of the race--to be willing--andwas--sacrificing his very soul for the cause of Ethiopia. He took greatpride in telling and retelling how he had sacrificed for hisfamily--wife included. As he was heard by others, he had no faults;could do no wrong, and would surely reach heaven in the end!
So while they lingered at the bedside of Orlean, he and Ethel, as apastime argued with each other, and involved everybody but themselveswith wrongs. For instance, the Reverend, affecting much piety, would indiscussing his wife, whom he ever did in terms regarding her faults,find occasion to remark in a burst of self pity--and of self pity he hadan abundant supply:
"After all I have done for that woman; after all I have sacrificed forher; after all the patience I have endured while she has held medown--kept me from being what I would have been and should, she is everbursting out with: 'You're the meanest man in the world! You're themeanest man in the world!'" Whereupon he would affect a look of deepself pity and eternal mortification.
Unless we lengthen the story unnecessarily, we would not have the spaceto relate all he said in reference to his son-in-law in subtle waysduring these days. But Jean Baptiste was too busy building a barn andother buildings to listen to these compliments the Elder was bestowingupon his wife with regard to him. "Yes, my dear," he said time andagain, "If Jean was like your father, you would not be here now withyour child lying dead in the grave. No, no. You would be in the besthospital in Chicago, with nurses and attendants all about you and yourdarling baby at your side," and, so saying, he would affect another sighof self pity.
At first she had struggled to protest, but after a few days she gave upentirely and became resigned to the inevitable. She received anoccasional diversion, however, when the Elder and Ethel entered into acontroversy. Unlike Orlean, Ethel was not afraid of her father,especially when he had something to say about Glavis. The truth was,that while he so pretended, N.J. McCarthy had no more love for Glavisthan he had for Baptiste; but he could tolerate Glavis because Glavisendeavored to satisfy his vanity. Baptiste, on the other hand, while henow accepted all his father-in-law chose to pour upon him in the way ofrebuke for what he had done and should not have, and what he had notdone and should have, he never told the Elder that he was a great man.
The first few days the Elder had held the usual prayer; but after somedays he dispensed with this, and turned all his energy to rebuking JeanBaptiste, when he was out of sight.
"Now, don't you talk about Glavis," cried Ethel one day when hisMajesty had tired of abusing Baptiste and sought a diversion byremarking that Glavis had come from a stumpy farm in the woodlands ofTennessee. "No, you don't! Glavis is my husband and you can't abuse himto his back like you are doing Baptiste!"
"Just listen how she treats her father, Orlean,
When Jean Baptiste had completed his barn, and his wife was out ofdanger, according to the doctor--but would never be according to theElder--who insisted that the only cure would be for her to return toChicago with them,--he was ready to go to work. His wife wanted to go toChicago, for what the Reverend had done to her in the days he had sat byher and professed his great love, would have made her wish to goanywhere to appease him for even a day.
"Now, after the expense we have been to," said Baptiste, "I hardly knowwhether I can let you go to Chicago or not."
The Elder sighed, and said to her low enough for her husband's ears notto hear: "Just listen to that. After all I have done! Then I will haveto pay your way to Chicago where I shall endeavor to save your life,your dear life which this man is trying to grind out of you to getrich."
"But I'll think it over," said Baptiste. "We have lots of work thissummer, and will try to get caught up," and the next moment he was gone.
"Did you hear that, daughter?" said the Reverend, now aloud, when theother's back was turned. "Oh, it's awful, the man you have married! Justcrazy, crazy to get rich! And puts you after his work; after his horses;after his everything! And after all your poor old father has done foryou," whereupon he let escape another sigh, and fell into tears of selfpity.
Orlean stroked his head and swallowed what she would have offered indefense of the man she had married. It was useless to offer defense, hehad broken this down long since.
"Yes, he is wanting to kill, to kill my poor daughter after all she hassacrificed," he sobbed, "and when you are dead and in your grave likeyour baby is out in this wild country," his voice was breaking now withsobs, "he will up and marry another woman to enjoy the fruits of yoursacrifice!" He was lost in his own tears then, and could say no more.
"Now, dear," she suddenly heard her husband, and looked up to find thathe had returned. He stooped and kissed her fondly, and then went on: "Iam going up to my sister's homestead to start the men to work with theengine breaking the land and I must haul them the coal, which I will getat Colome. Now I will not be back for several days, but will make up mymind in the meantime as to whether I can let you go to Chicago or not."
"All right, dear," she said, raising from the bed and caressing him longand lingeringly. She could not understand how much she wanted him then,it seemed that she could hold him so forever. She kissed him again andagain, and as he passed out of the room she looked after him long andlingeringly, and upon her face was a heavenly smile as he passed out ofsight and disappeared over the hill. As he did so, the Elder got fromhis position at the other side of the bed, went to the door, and alsowatched him out sight. As he turned away, Baptiste's grandmother who hadfed many a preacher back there in old Illinois, the Reverend included,started. She had seen his face, and what she had seen therein hadfrightened her. When he went back into the room and to the bed whereOrlean lay, she dropped by the table and buried her face in her old armsand sobbed, long and silently. And a close observer could have heardthese shaken words:
"Poor Jean, poor Jean, poor Orlean, oh, poor Orlean! You made all thefight you could but you were weak. You were doomed before you started,for he knew you and knew you were weak. But would to God that the worldcould end today, for it will end tomorrow for you two. Poor Orlean, poorJean!"