Page:Representative American plays.pdf/840

Mrs. Beeler. That's not the Black Man.

Uncle Abe. That's him, shore's yo' born! Jes' what he looks like. I's seen 'im, more'n once.

Rhoda. Seen the Black Man, Uncle?

Uncle Abe. Yais, ma'am. I's spied 'im, sittin' in de paw-paw bushes in de springtime, when de snakes a-runnin', an' de jays a-hollerin', and de crick a-talkin' sassy to hisse'f. (He leans nearer, more mysteriously.) En what you s'pose I heerd him whis'lin', for all de worl' lak dem scan'lous bluejays? (Chants in a high, trilling voice.) "Chillun, chillun, they ain' no Gawd, they ain' no sin nor no jedgment, they's jes' springtime an' happy days, and folks carryin' on. Whar's yo' lil gal, Abe Johnson? Whar's yo' lil sweet-heart gal?" An' me on'y got religion wintah befo', peekin' roun' pie-eyed, skeered good. En fo' you could say "De Lawd's my Shepherd," kerchunk goes de Black Man in de mud-puddle, change' into a big green bullfrog!

Mrs. Beeler. You just imagined all that.

Uncle Abe. (Indignant.) Jes' 'magine! Don' I know de Devil when I sees him, near 'nough to say "Howdy"?

Mrs. Beeler. There is n't any Devil.

Uncle Abe. (Astounded.) Ain't no Devil?

Mrs. Beeler. No.

Uncle Abe. Mis' Beelah, did I understan' you to say—they ain'—no Devil?

Mrs. Beeler. (Touching her breast.) Only here, Uncle Abe. (The old negro stares at her and Rhoda, and goes into the kitchen, feeling his own breast and shaking his head dubiously. Mrs. Beeler looks at the picture.) Do you think your Uncle Mat would mind if we took that picture down?(Rhoda unpins the picture from the wall, rolls it up, and lays it on the bookshelf. Her aunt goes on, hesitatingly.) Do you know, Rhoda, I have sometimes thought—You won't be hurt?

Rhoda. No.

Mrs. Beeler. I—I know what that old negro says is all foolishness, but—there is something the matter with Mr. Michaelis. Have you noticed?

Rhoda. (Avoiding her aunt's gaze.) Yes.

Mrs. Beeler. Just when his great work is about to begin!—What do you think it can be?

Rhoda. How should I know, Aunt Mary?

Mrs. Beeler. I thought maybe—Rhoda, I have seen him look at you so strangely! Like—like the Pilgrim in the picture, when he hears that heathen creature playing on the pipe.—You are such a wild creature, or you used to be.

Rhoda. Auntie.

Mrs. Beeler. Yes?

Rhoda. I think I ought to go away.

Mrs. Beeler. (Astonished.) Go away? Why?

Rhoda. So as not to—hinder him.

Mrs. Beeler. (Caressing her.) There, you have taken what I said too seriously. It was only a sick woman's imagination.

Rhoda. No, it was the truth. You see it, though you try not to. Even Uncle Abe sees it. Just when Mr. Michaelis most needs his strength, weakness has come upon him.

Mrs. Beeler. You mean—? (She hesitates.) You mean—because of you?—Rhoda, look at me. (Rhoda avoids her aunt's gaze; Mrs. Beeler draws down the girl's face and gazes at it.) Is there anything—that I don't know—between you and him?

Rhoda. I—I must go away.—I ought to have gone before.

Mrs. Beeler. My child, this—this troubles me very much. He is different from other men, and you—and you—

Rhoda. (With passion.) Say it, say it! What am I?

Mrs. Beeler. Don't be hurt, Rhoda, but—you have a wild nature. You are like your father. I remember when he used to drive over to see sister Jane, with his keen face and eagle eyes, behind his span of wild colts, I used to tremble for my gentle sister. You are just like him, or you used to be. (Rhoda breaks away from her aunt, and takes her hat and cloak. Mrs. Beeler rises with perturbation, and crosses to detain her.) What are you going to do?

Rhoda. I am going away—I must go away.

Mrs. Beeler. (Speaks lower.) Promise me you won't! Promise me!

Martha. To look at that, now! Seein'