Roxy

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52. An Expedition



When "Whittaker rose on Monday morning, he found Adams waiting for him on the porch below. It was but half-past five o'clock, but the shoe-maker had waited half an hour already. This sorrow had moved him so deeply that he could no longer disguise his sensitiveness under a rugged and contradictory manner, as was his wont.

" Roxy would like to see you, Mr. Whittaker," he said. "And I want to tell you before you go, that I think she is getting a notion that she ought to go back to Mark. I want you to persuade her to stay where she is."

Whittaker hesitated.

" Is it quite fair," he said, after awhile, "for you to bar gain with a doctor beforehand that he shall prescribe such and such remedies? You must leave me free."

" To be sure, to be sure," grumbled Adams. "But why should you want her to leave her father's house to go back to such a man? Why can't she be comfortable where she is?"

" We have to take things as we find them. You don't grumble at a man for having big or little feet. You have to fit the feet he brings. I leave it to your good sense whether Roxy is likely to be happy at home."

" She was once. I wish she'd stayed there."

"But she can't be contented at home now she can'l blot out the years since she was married."

" But think of the humiliation of her going back."

" Yes, I know."

" You are going to advise her to go back, I suppose ? "

" No, I can't do that. That is a hard road, and I don't know how strong she is. Let her take her own course ; right for one is wrong for another. She is an extraordinary woman, Mr. Adams."

Adams made no reply, and they took their way to his house. Roxy was pacing the floor when they came in.

" Mr. Whittaker," she said anxiously, " Mr. Highbury says, and other people say, that it would be a sin for me to forgive Mark, and to go back. I want you to tell me what you think about it."

"It is never wrong to do good. It cannot be wrong to do good."

"I am going back to Mark, then," she said, swiftly. "He looked through that window at me last night, and his face was so wretched that I couldn't sleep all night. Surely it can't be wrong to help him out of his misery."

" There is no law against your trying to be as forgiving and as good as God. You must judge whether you can finish this task you are undertaking."

Roxy gave her arms an excited twitch, stretching them downward their full length. Her eyes shone with a feverish luster, and Whittaker could not but observe that dilatation of the nostrils and wide openness of the eyelids that expressed a deep and eager excitement. After awhile she ^poke, in a lower voice :

"Where is Nancy Kirtley ? "

" She is at her father's."

Roxy looked puzzled.

"I must see her first," she said. " I have a plan, and I must see her."

Whiittaker looked in her eyes. The Iids droped over pupils that seemed drawn to a point. He half-guessed the purpose she was trying to eoneeal.

"Dear friend," he said, " I think I know what your plan is. It is a hard road you are about to travel. Better to draw back now than to make matters worse by failure, after a while. I dare not advise you to do such a thing. It frightens me to think of it."

" Will there be anything wrong in it ? "

"No. But are you able to do it? Are you able to drink this cup and be baptized with this baptism ? As for the act you are thinking of in regard to Nancy, it is noble the noblest possible."

" I would like to do the noblest thing possible, and God helping me, I am going to try." Again she twitched her arms and paced the floor. "Don't discourage me. I know it will be hard. Give me all the encouragement you can. Tell me that God will help."

" Indeed he will. Indeed he will," said Whittaker, in a husky voice. The tone of entreaty in which Roxy had spoken deeply moved all in the room. Jemima was standing by the door wiping her eyes with her apron, and Adams was looking out of the window through the tears he could neither keep back nor conceal.

" Promise that you will not let me faint by the way that you'll give a word of encouragement or reproof, if I falter. For I tell you, Mr. Whittaker, I've thought all night about this, and, let it cost what it will, I mean to undo this evil. If God helps me, I'll live and die to overcome it. This is my work, for the rest of my time. Now I have found it, do not say anything to keep me from it. "

" God forbid ! " said Whittaker. But he bowed his head upon his hand.

"Roxy," said the old shoe-maker, "you didn't do this thing this trouble is none of your making "What do you concern yourself about it for? All sinners have to suffer, and Mark onlv suffers what he deserves."

It touched Roxy to hear her father assume a pleading tone. It had never been Ir.s custom, in speaking to her, to Bpeak otherwise than with authority.

" You are wrong, father," she said, putting her hand tremblingly upon his arm. She had never caressed him bo much within her memory. ''Mark is not the only one to blame. If I had been wiser, and kinder, and gentler than I was, it would not have happened. It is my fault. If I had only known if I had only known ! Ton are too hard on Mark, all of you." She turned toward "Whittaker as she uttered this last word.

" It is the best sign that you will succeed, Roxy, that you can extenuate his fault. That is a true sign of forgiveness," said "Whittaker.

" Come riffht along to breakfast," said Jemima. " The biscuits is gettin' cold."

But she said this with so much pathos that her inflection was ludicrously out of keeping with the subject of biscuits.

The old shoe-maker went out the door and away to his work fasting. Nothing was so intolerable to him as his own sensibility. "Whittaker refused the invitation to breakfast and took his leave. "When he had gone out of the house he could not think where Roxy would get a horse for her journey. But just in front of Lefaure's house he met old Bob riding Roxy's own saddle-horse. For Bob had taken advantage of the present disorder of the Bonamy place to treat himself to many and various luxuries. Among others was that of riding when he came into the town on an errand. Besides the pleasure of a motion thai cost him no effort, it suited his dignity to ride.

" Hello, Bob ! " said Whittaker, " how's Mr. Bonamy ? "

" Po'ly sah, mighty po'ly. Walks roim' de house mos' all night, sah."

"I see you ride a good deal, Bob," said the minister mischievously. " Do you have rheumatism ? "

" Yes sah, I'se pow'ful weak dese times, sah. But I rides 'cause de hoss needs de exe'cise."

" I think Mrs. Bonamy wants that horse today, Bob."

" She do ? " Bob's eyes grew to saucers.

" You just come in here an I'll give you a side-saddle and then you take the horse over to Mrs. Bonamy and tell her I sent you."

Bob's ardent wish had been that Roxy should return. Now he was like them that dream as he put on the horse an old side-saddle of Mrs. Lefaure's and conveyed the " clay-bank colt," as he called the horse, over to Roxy.

Roxy had yielded to the entreaties of Jemima, and was endeavoring to swallow a cup of coffee when the sight of Bob at the kitchen door made her start with surprise, and gave her a feeling of pain and pleasure.

" Good morning, Bob," she said.

" Good mornin' Mis' Roxy. I'se pow'ful glad to see you ag'in. It's awful solemcholy down to ou' house dese days."

" How's Mr. Bonamy ? "

" Well, now, to tell de trufe, on'y kinder middlin' and sorter fah like you know." Bob thought it best to be diplomatically non-committal. "I see Mr. Whittaker jis now and he thought you mout like to use Dick today and I fotch him over for you."

"I do want Dick. Just leave him tied out there, Bob.''

" You fetch him home yo'self, Mis' Roxy ? Or you tvant me to come ahtah him ? "

" I'll fetch him."

" Good Lorgoramity ! " said Bob, and this chuckling exclamation as ne turned away scratching his head in bewilderment did Roxy good. It was the beginning of new th ings.

She needed the encouragement of a good omen in her long ride over the rocky roads that clay. Part of the road she had traveled in happier days on her way to quarterly meetings, and the rest she found by inquiring her way from one little hamlet, or country store, or blacksmith's shop, to another. Behind her she left the village in a state of vague and violent surprise. Bonamy's wife had been seen riding out of town on her own horse. What could it mean? Mrs. Tartrum appointed herself a committee of one to inquire of Rachel Adams at her shop, but as Mrs. Adams did not know for what purpose Roxy had gone to see Nancy, Mother Tartrum set afloat a surmise which soon deepened into a certainty, that Roxy had gone in search of evidence for a divorce suit.

But ever as Roxy left the better farm-houses and more cultivated farms of the hill country next the river, and penetrated into the hollows where the ground was steep and rocky and the people ignorant and thriftless, there came over her a spirit of depression and fear. She shrunk from the burden of this day as a martyr from the stake. And as she drew nearer to the Kirtley house, she suffered her horse to move more and more slowly over the rough road. But at last she rode up to the fence of what she was sure must be Gid Kirtley's cabin. Her heart beat violently. There was uo stile, and no one to help her dismount. The smoke curled lazily ort of the barrel that formed the top of the stick chimney. The dogs barked it a half -threatening and half-indifferent way, baying awhile and then lying down again, seeming to take turns in making a noise. Roxy looked all around the inhospitable house in vain for some one to assist her. The place had a hostile and sinister appearance. She felt faint and weak, and almost regretful that she had undertaken so difficult a mission. She dismounted at last on a corner of the rickety fence of rails and then jumped down to the ground, and tied her horse herself, the dogs smelling her garments and bristling angrilv all the time.

From the cabin window Nance had watched her.

" There's that blamed Roxy Bonamy," she said to her mother. "What's she come fer? No good, I'll bet."

" I 'low I'll go and help her off her hoss." said the old woman.

" No you wont, nuther. Let her help herself. Them town women thinks everybody orter run after 'em. She's come to sass me. I s'pose. Liker'n not she means to kill me. I'll show her."

And the desperate Nancy seized a stout butcher knife and hid it beneath her apron. " Now let her look out," she said. And she seated herself on the corner of the hearth.

Roxy, environed by dogs, knocked at the door. The old woman raised the latch and opened it slowly, saying coldly :

" Howdy. Walk in."

" Is Nancy Kirtley here ; I want to see her ? " said Roxy.

" Thar she is."

Nancy sat sullen on the hearth. The old woman gave Roxy a chair. Then she lit her pipe and sat down herself

"You're having a hard time, Nancy," said Roxy.



" What's that your business ? " said Nancy.

"Well, I thought maybe I could help you," said Roxy but all hope seemed to die out of her heart as she spoke.

"They can't nobody help me. They wont nobody look at me no more. The gals all larfs at me bekase they're so glad I'm out of their way. And the young fellers, they wont be seed here no more. Thar's even Jim McGowan wont look at me no more. An' it's all along of you and your man. Ugh ! I'll git even yet ! " Nancy spoke the last with a sudden burst of angry fire, with her teeth shut and her fist shaken in Roxy's face.

"Nancy, I think I can help you out of your troubles. I'm going back to live with my husband and I want to help you, too."

" You're goin' back ! You're goin' back ! An' me, I'm left out here, poor and larfed at, an' then when my baby's born, everybody'll larf at it, too. Blame you all ! It's too confounded mean." And Nancy began to cry.

" But I think I can fix a plan so that nobody will laugh at you or at your child. You are young yet, and you are so handsome."

Roxy said this not with a purpose to flatter the girl, but almost involuntarily, for, despite the trouble Nancy had suffered, and the scowl on her face, there was a beauty about it that Roxy could not but acknowledge. The compliment went far toward softening Nancy. Roxy now drew her chair a little toward Nancy's, but the other drew back, afraid of some treachery.

"Nancy," said Roxy, standing up, "I want to talk to you in private. I wont hurt you, poor girl."

Nancy in turn was impressed. She felt Roxy's superiority and mastery much as an animal might. As she had drawn her chair, now, close against the jamb, she could not draw it away from Roxy any farther. Roxy planted her own chair close by Nancy's. She had determined to conquer all shrinking and disgust. She sat down by the girl, who now turned her head and looked sullenly into the fire, clutching the knife under her apron, so as to be ready if there should be need of defense.

Roxy began to whisper in her ear. She told Nancy how much she had hated her when she saw her that day with Mark's watch-seal and Testament, and heard what she had to tell. She told her how she had felt since, how she could not sleep at night. All of this made Nancy uneasy, but it accomplished what Roxy meant it should. It opened the way for an understanding. Then she told about Mark's looking in at the window, and of what she had thought in the night, and how she wanted to help Nancy, and how the people at home didn't want her to.

It was hard for Nancy to understand this. She had in herself no alphabet by which she could spell out the exercises of a mind like Roxy's; but she did get from this confession a sense of the superior goodness of the woman who talked to her. Her suspicions were gradually lulled, and her resentment toward Roxy became by degrees less keen. In fact, since Mark had rebuffed her, and she had come to understand her situation, she had been more anxious to find means of escape, than even to find opportunity for revenge.

" Now," said Roxy, " I want to help you."

"You can't do nothin'," said Nancy in dejection. " Mark'll give me money, but money wont do no good, plague on it! I might 'a'married Jim McGowan, a good-hearted feller, and that fond o' me. But here I am, air who'll look at me now? W'y, the ugliest gal on Rocky Fork's got a better show'n I have."

Roxy leaned over and whispered again. Nancy listened ntently. Then she started a little.

" You wouldn't do that ! You dursent do it ! You durseut take it yourself ! "

Again Roxy whispered to her.

" You don't mean it ! " broke out Nancy. " You're a-foolin' weth ine ! I wont be fooled weth any more ! "

But Roxy, intent now on her purpose, laid her right hand on Nancy's left, gently clasped it, and whispered airain in her ear.

" Will you kiss the book on that air ? " asked the suspicious Nancy, looking Roxy full in the face.

" Yes, to be sure I will. I'll do what I say."

" I'll git the book. You've got to sw'ar to it."

Nancy rose from her seat eagerly, and the knife fell from under her apron upon the hearth. The clatter attracted Roxy's attention, and Nancy turned red.

" I hadn't orter'a' done it," she said, " but I 'lowed may be you was agoin' to do me some harm."

But Roxy could hardly make out that Nancy had concealed the knife as a weapon.

Nancy brought out Mark's Testament. Seeing Roxy shudder, she apologized.

" We haint got no other Bible, an' as this 'ere is his'n, it's jest as good. I don't know jest how to do," she said, puzzled, " but I reckon this'll do. You sw'ar on this book that you'll do what you promised."

" I swear on this book that I'll do what I've promised. So help me God ! " Roxy's voice trembled. Nancy held up the Testament, and Roxy kissed it.

After a while, the old woman had her earl" dinner of pork and cabbage on the table, and pressed Roxy to eat. She could not eat, but she drank a little of Mrs. Kirtley's sassafras tea, for the sake of peace. The old man had beec duly called, by the blowing of a tin horn, and he wondered not a little at the amity between his daughter and Mrs. Bonamy. Nancy was more and more fascinated by Roxy'o friendliness. She was hungry now for just such human recognition. Not very capable of moral distinction, she was yet very full of feeling, and there was growing up in her mind a great sense of gratitude to Roxy as her deliverer, that gratitude which strongly affects even dumb brutes sometimes. Nancy sat by Roxy at the table, urged her with the rude hospitality of the country to eat, and wondered more and more at a magnanimity that was beyond her comprehension. After dinner, though Roxy was in haste to be away, Nancy detained her while she herself put some corn in a pail and fed the clay-bank colt.

At last Roxy told the old woman good-bye, and then held out her hand to Nancy. Nancy took it held it a moment, while her face twitched and her whole frame trembled. She felt her own humiliation deeply, in her growing worship of Roxy, and she had an almost animal desire to be petted and caressed, greatly intensified since she had felt herself outcast.

" Would you mind " here she looked down and stammered " would you mind kissin' a poor thing like me, jist once, you know ? "

In that moment Roxy remembered the words that Whittaker had spoken that morning " There is no law against your trying to be as forgiving; and as good as God ; " but for an instant her woman's heart held her back from the guilty girl. A sense of the wrong she herself had endured, rose up in her. But she repeated to herself the words "'To be as forgiving as God," and then folded her anna alout Nancy, who wept upon her shoulder a poor dumb thing, beaten upon, of tempestuous passions, but susceptible at last to good influence that came to her through her sensibilities through shame and defeat and forsrrveness and deliverance.

The old man Kirtley had perceived dimly that for some reason Roxy Bonamy was to be treated as a friend. So he held the bridle of her horse while she mounted from the fence corner. Then when she was about to ride off Nancy came close to the horse and said :

" I'm a-goin' to send the ole man over to tell Jim ALcGowaii. He's awful mad and I've been expectin' that any day he'd shoot somebocty."

" I wish you would," said Roxy.

" You and me 'll always be frien's," said Nancy.

" Yes, indeed we will, Nancy." And Roxy, worn with fatigue and excitement, rode away now to the other part of her task. Sometimes during her loner ride her heart rebelled when she thought that she had embraced Nancy. But she repeated to herself, " Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of these ye did it unto me." She had often in revival meetings entreated people to " embrace Christ." But even now in her mental and physical depression it dawned upon her that she herself had never before in so full a sense embraced the Chris* as when she had taken Naney into her bosom.