Chapter XIII: Part 13

"Yes, the Washington girl. But he got over that and you straightened him out finally. Still, Emma probably thinks yours is the prior claim, knowing, of course, nothing of facts. And Bles knows she thinks of him and you, and I'm convinced if you say the word, they'd love and marry."

Zora walked silently with her to the door, where, looking out, she saw Bles and Emma coming from Aunt Rachel's. He was helping her from the carriage with smiling eyes, and her innocent blue eyes were fastened on him.

Zora looked long and searchingly.

"Please run and tell them of the legacy," she begged. "I--I will come--in a moment." And Mrs. Cresswell hurried out.

Zora turned back steadily to her room, and locked herself in. After all, why shouldn't it be? Why had it not occurred to her before in her blindness? If she had wanted him--and ah, God! was not all her life simply the want of him?--why had she not bound him to her when he had offered himself? Why had she not bound him to her? She knew as she asked--because she had wanted all, not a part--everything, love, respect and perfect faith--not one thing could she spare then--not one thing. And now, oh, God! she had dreamed that it was all hers, since that night of death and circling flame when they looked at each other soul to soul. But he had not meant anything. It was pity she had seen there, not love; and she rose and walked the room slowly, fast and faster.

With trembling hands she drew the Silver Fleece round her. Her head swam again and the blood flashed in her eyes. She heard a calling in the swamp, and the shadow of Elspeth seemed to hover over her, claiming her for her own, dragging her down, down.... She rushed through the swamp. The lagoon lay there before her presently, gleaming in the darkness--cold and still, and in it swam an awful shape.

She held her burning head--was not everything plain? Was not everything clear? This was Sacrifice! This was the Atonement for the unforgiven sin. Emma's was the pure soul which she must offer up to God; for it was God, a cold and mighty God, who had given it to Bles--her Bles. It was well; God willed it. But could she live? Must she live? Did God ask that, too?

All at once she stood straight; her whole body grew tense, alert. She heard no sound behind her, but knew he was there, and braced herself. She must be true. She must be just. She must pay the uttermost farthing.

"Bles," she called faintly, but did not turn her head.

"Zora!"

"Bles," she choked, but her voice came stronger, "I know--all. Emma is a good girl. I helped bring her up myself and did all I could for her and she--she is pure; marry her."

His voice came slow and firm:

"Emma? But I don't love Emma. I love--some one else."

Her heart bounded and again was still. It was that Washington girl then. She answered dully, groping for words, for she was tired:

"Who is it?"

"The best woman in all the world, Zora."

"And is"--she struggled at the word madly--"is she pure?"

"She is more than pure."

"Then you must marry her, Bles."

"I am not worthy of her," he answered, sinking before her.

Then at last illumination dawned upon her blindness. She stood very still and lifted up her eyes. The swamp was living, vibrant, tremulous. There where the first long note of night lay shot with burning crimson, burst in sudden radiance the wide beauty of the moon. There pulsed a glory in the air. Her little hands groped and wandered over his close-curled hair, and she sobbed, deep voiced:

"Will you--marry me, Bles?"

L'ENVOI

Lend me thine ears, O God the Reader, whose Fathers aforetime sent
mine down into the land of Egypt, into this House of Bondage. Lay
not these words aside for a moment's phantasy, but lift up thine
eyes upon the Horror in this land;--the maiming and mocking and
murdering of my people, and the prisonment of their souls. Let my
people go, O Infinite One, lest the world shudder at

The End

End of Project Gutenberg's The Quest of the Silver Fleece, by W. E. B. Du Bois