"On Sunday next, the 14th inst., the Reverend John Creedy, B.A., of Magdalen College, Oxford1, will preach in Walton Magna Church, on behalf of the Gold Coast Mission." Not a very startling announcement that, and yet, simple as it looks, it stirred Ethel Berry's soul to its inmost depths. For Ethel had been brought up by her Aunt Emily to look upon foreign missions as the one thing on earth worth living for and thinking about, and the Reverend John Creedy, B.A., had a missionary2 history of his own, strange enough even in these strange days of queer juxtapositions3 between utter savagery4 and advanced civilization.
"Only think," she said to her aunt, as they read the placard on the schoolhouse-board, "he's a real African negro, the vicar says, taken from a slaver on the Gold Coast when he was a child, and brought to England to be educated. He's been to Oxford and got a degree; and now he's going out again to Africa to convert his own people. And he's coming down to the vicar's to stay on Wednesday."
"It's my belief," said old Uncle James, Aunt Emily's brother, the[Pg 2] superannuated5 skipper, "that he'd much better stop in England for ever. I've been a good bit on the Coast myself in my time, after palm oil and such, and my opinion is that a nigger's a nigger anywhere, but he's a sight less of a nigger in England than out yonder in Africa. Take him to England, and you make a gentleman of him: send him home again, and the nigger comes out at once in spite of you."
"Oh, James," Aunt Emily put in, "how can you talk such unchristianlike talk, setting yourself up against missions, when we know that all the nations of the earth are made of one blood?"
"I've always lived a Christian6 life myself, Emily," answered Uncle James, "though I have cruised a good bit on the Coast, too, which is against it, certainly; but I take it a nigger's a nigger whatever you do with him. The Ethiopian cannot change his skin, the Scripture7 says, nor the leopard8 his spots, and a nigger he'll be to the end of his days; you mark my words, Emily."
On Wednesday, in due course, the Reverend John Creedy arrived at the vicarage, and much curiosity there was throughout the village of Walton Magna that week to see this curious new thing, a coal-black parson. Next day, Thursday, an almost equally unusual event occurred to Ethel Berry, for, to her great surprise, she got a little note in the morning inviting9 her up to a tennis party at the vicarage the same afternoon. Now, though the vicar called on Aunt Emily often enough, and accepted her help readily for school feasts and other village festivities of the milder sort, the Berrys were hardly up to that level of society which is commonly invited to the parson's lawn tennis parties. And the reason why Ethel was asked on this particular Thursday must be traced to a certain pious10 conspiracy11 between the vicar and the secretary of the Gold Coast Evangelistic Society. When those two eminent12 missionary advocates had met a fortnight before at Exeter Hall, the secretary had represented to[Pg 3] the vicar the desirability of young John Creedy's taking to himself an English wife before his departure. "It will steady him, and keep him right on the Coast," he said, "and it will give him importance in the eyes of the natives as well." Whereto the vicar responded that he knew exactly the right girl to suit the place in his own parish, and that by a providential conjunction she already took a deep interest in foreign missions. So these two good men conspired13 in all innocence14 of heart to sell poor Ethel into African slavery; and the vicar had asked John Creedy down to Walton Magna on purpose to meet her.
That afternoon Ethel put on her pretty sateen and her witching little white hat, with two natural dog-roses pinned on one side, and went pleased and proud up to the vicarage. The Reverend John Creedy was there, not in full clerical costume, but arrayed in tennis flannels15, with only a loose white tie beneath his flap collar to mark his newly acquired spiritual dignity. He was a comely16 looking negro enough, full-blooded, but not too broad-faced nor painfully African in type; and when he was playing tennis his athletic17 quick limbs and his really handsome build took away greatly from the general impression of an inferior race. His voice was of the ordinary Oxford type, open, pleasant, and refined, with a certain easy-going air of natural gentility, hardly marred18 by just the faintest tinge19 of the thick negro blur20 in the broad vowels21. When he talked to Ethel—and the vicar's wife took good care that they should talk together a great deal—his conversation was of a sort that she seldom heard at Walton Magna. It was full of London and Oxford, of boat-races at Iffley and cricket matches at Lord's; of people and books whose very names Ethel had never heard—one of them was a Mr. Mill, she thought, and another a Mr. Aristotle—but which she felt vaguely22 to be one step higher in the[Pg 4] intellectual scale than her own level. Then his friends, to whom he alluded23 casually24, not like one who airs his grand acquaintances, were such very distinguished25 people. There was a real live lord, apparently26, at the same college with him, and he spoke27 of a young baronet whose estate lay close by, as plain "Harrington of Christchurch," without any "Sir Arthur"—a thing which even the vicar himself would hardly have ventured to do. She knew that he was learned, too; as a matter of fact he had taken a fair second class in Greats at Oxford; and he could talk delightfully28 of poetry and novels. To say the truth, John Creedy, in spite of his black face, dazzled poor Ethel, for he was more of a scholar and a gentleman than anybody with whom she had ever before had the chance of conversing29 on equal terms.
When Ethel turned the course of talk to Africa, the young parson was equally eloquent30 and fascinating. He didn't care about leaving England for many reasons, but he would be glad to do something for his poor brethren. He was enthusiastic about missions; that was a common interest; and he was so anxious to raise and improve the condition of his fellow-negroes that Ethel couldn't help feeling what a noble thing it was of him thus to sacrifice himself, cultivated gentleman as he was, in an African jungle, for his heathen countrymen. Altogether, she went home from the tennis-court that afternoon thoroughly31 overcome by John Creedy's personality. She didn't for a moment think of falling in love with him—a certain indescribable race-instinct set up an impassable barrier against that—but she admired him and was interested in him in a way that she had never yet felt with any other man.
As for John Creedy, he was naturally charmed with Ethel. In the first place, he would have been charmed with any English girl who took so much interest in himself and his plans, for, like all negroes, he was frankly32 egotistical, and delighted to find a white lady who seemed to[Pg 5] treat him as a superior being. But in the second place, Ethel was really a charming, simple English village lassie, with sweet little manners and a delicious blush, who might have impressed a far less susceptible33 man than the young negro parson. So, whatever Ethel felt, John Creedy felt himself truly in love. And after all, John Creedy was in all essentials an educated English gentleman, with the same chivalrous34 feelings towards a pretty and attractive girl that every English gentleman ought to have.
On Sunday morning Aunt Emily and Ethel went to the parish church, and the Reverend John Creedy preached the expected sermon. It was almost his first—sounded like a trial trip, Uncle James muttered—but it was undoubtedly35 what connoisseurs36 describe as an admirable discourse37. John Creedy was free from any tinge of nervousness—negroes never know what that word means—and he spoke fervently38, eloquently39, and with much power of manner about the necessity for a Gold Coast Mission. Perhaps there was really nothing very original or striking in what he said, but his way of saying it was impressive and vigorous. The negro, like many other lower races, has the faculty40 of speech largely developed, and John Creedy had been noted41 as one of the readiest and most fluent talkers at the Oxford union debates. When he enlarged upon the need for workers, the need for help, the need for succour and sympathy in the great task of evangelization, Aunt Emily and Ethel forgot his black hands, stretched out open-palmed towards the people, and felt only their hearts stirred within them by the eloquence42 and enthusiasm of that appealing gesture.
The end of it all was, that instead of a week John Creedy stopped for two months at Walton Magna, and during all that time he saw a great deal of Ethel. Before the end of the first fortnight he walked out one afternoon along the river-bank with her, and talked earnestly of his[Pg 6] expected mission.
"Miss Berry," he said, as they sat to rest awhile on the parapet of the little bridge by the weeping willows43, "I don't mind going to Africa, but I can't bear going all alone. I am to have a station entirely44 by myself up the Ancobra river, where I shall see no other Christian face from year's end to year's end. I wish I could have had some one to accompany me."
"You will be very lonely," Ethel answered. "I wish indeed you could have some companionship."
"Do you really?" John Creedy went on. "It is not good for man to live alone; he wants a helpmate. Oh, Miss Ethel, may I venture to hope that perhaps, if I can try to deserve you, you will be mine?"
Ethel started in dismay. Mr. Creedy had been very attentive45, very kind, and she had liked to hear him talk and had encouraged his coming, but she was hardly prepared for this. The nameless something in our blood recoiled46 at it. The proposal stunned47 her, and she said nothing but "Oh, Mr. Creedy, how can you say such a thing?"
John Creedy saw the shadow on her face, the unintentional dilatation of her delicate nostrils48, the faint puckering49 at the corner of her lips, and knew with a negro's quick instinct of face-reading what it all meant. "Oh, Miss Ethel," he said, with a touch of genuine bitterness in his tone, "don't you, too, despise us. I won't ask you for any answer now; I don't want an answer. But I want you to think it over. Do think it over, and consider whether you can ever love me. I won't press the matter on you. I won't insult you by importunity50, but I will tell you just this once, and once for all, what I feel. I love you, and I shall always love you, whatever you answer me now. I know it would cost you a wrench51 to take me, a greater wrench than to take the least and the unworthiest of your own people. But if you can only get over that first[Pg 7] wrench, I can promise earnestly and faithfully to love you as well as ever woman yet was loved. Don't say anything now," he went on, as he saw she was going to open her mouth again: "wait and think it over; pray it over; and if you can't see your way straight before you when I ask you this day fortnight "yes or no," answer me "no," and I give you my word of honour as a gentleman I will never speak to you of the matter again. But I shall carry your picture written on my heart to my grave."
And Ethel knew that he was speaking from his very soul.
When she went home, she took Aunt Emily up into her little bedroom, over the porch where the dog-roses grew, and told her all about it. Aunt Emily cried and sobbed52 as if her heart would break, but she saw only one answer from the first. "It is a gate opened to you, my darling," she said: "I shall break my heart over it, Ethel, but it is a gate opened." And though she felt that all the light would be gone out of her life if Ethel went, she worked with her might from that moment forth53 to induce Ethel to marry John Creedy and go to Africa. Poor soul, she acted faithfully up to her lights.
As for Uncle James, he looked at the matter very differently. "Her instinct is against it," he said stoutly54, "and our instincts wasn't put in our hearts for nothing. They're meant to be a guide and a light to us in these dark questions. No white girl ought to marry a black man, even if he is a parson. It ain't natural: our instinct is again it. A white man may marry a black woman if he likes: I don't say anything again him, though I don't say I'd do it myself, not for any money. But a white woman to marry a black man, why, it makes our blood rise, you know, 'specially55 if you've happened to have cruised worth speaking of along the Coast."
But the vicar and the vicar's wife were charmed with the prospect56 of[Pg 8] success, and spoke seriously to Ethel about it. It was a call, they thought, and Ethel oughtn't to disregard it. They had argued themselves out of those wholesome57 race instincts that Uncle James so rightly valued, and they were eager to argue Ethel out of them too. What could the poor girl do? Her aunt and the vicar on the one hand, and John Creedy on the other, were too much between them for her native feelings. At the end of the fortnight John Creedy asked her his simple question "yes or no," and half against her will she answered "yes." John Creedy took her hand delicately in his and fervidly58 kissed the very tips of her fingers; something within him told him he must not kiss her lips. She started at the kiss, but she said nothing. John Creedy noticed the start, and said within himself, "I shall so love and cherish her that I will make her love me in spite of my black skin." For with all the faults of his negro nature, John Creedy was at heart an earnest and affectionate man, after his kind.
And Ethel really did, to some extent, love him already. It was such a strange mixture of feeling. From one point of view he was a gentleman by position, a clergyman, a man of learning and of piety59; and from this point of view Ethel was not only satisfied, but even proud of him. For the rest, she took him as some good Catholics take the veil, from a sense of the call. And so, before the two months were out, Ethel Berry had married John Creedy, and both started together at once for Southampton, on their way to Axim. Aunt Emily cried, and hoped they might be blessed in their new work, but Uncle James never lost his misgivings60 about the effect of Africa upon a born African. "Instincts is a great thing," he said, with a shake of his head, as he saw the West Coast mail steam slowly down Southampton Water, "and when he gets among his own people his instincts will surely get the better of him, as safe as my name is James Berry."
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1
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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juxtapositions
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| n.并置，并列( juxtaposition的名词复数 ) | |
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savagery
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| n.野性 | |
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superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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leopard
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| n.豹 | |
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inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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tinge
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| vt.(较淡)着色于，染色；使带有…气息；n.淡淡色彩，些微的气息 | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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vowels
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| n.元音，元音字母( vowel的名词复数 ) | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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conversing
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的现在分词 ) | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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connoisseurs
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| n.鉴赏家，鉴定家，行家( connoisseur的名词复数 ) | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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eloquently
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| adv. 雄辩地(有口才地, 富于表情地) | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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46
recoiled
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| v.畏缩( recoil的过去式和过去分词 )；退缩；报应；返回 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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49
puckering
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的现在分词 )；小褶纹；小褶皱 | |
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importunity
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| n.硬要，强求 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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fervidly
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| adv.热情地，激情地 | |
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piety
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| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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