Carmen Ariza
Chapter 112 : CHAPTER 6 Carmen's rapid transition from the eternal solitudes of Guamoco to the

CHAPTER 6

Carmen's rapid transition from the eternal solitudes of Guamoco to the whirring activities of New York was like a plunge into the maelstrom, and left her groping blindly in the effort to adapt herself to the changed order. There was little in her former mode of existence that could be transferred to her new environment, and she felt that she was starting life like a new-born babe. For days, even weeks, she moved about dreamily, absorbed, ceaselessly striving to orient herself and to accept easily and naturally the marvels, the sudden accession of material aids, and the wonders of this modern, complex civilization, so common to her a.s.sociates, but scarcely even dreamed of by her in her former home, despite the preparation which Jose had tried to give her. The Elwin school was small, its student-body seldom numbering more than fifty, and in it Carmen found herself hedged about by restrictions which in a way were beneficial, in that they narrowed her environment and afforded her time for her slow adjustment to it.

But if these restrictions aided her, they also rendered the length of her stay in the school almost calculable. Little by little the girl saw the forces developing which she knew must effect her dismissal; little by little, as Madam Elwin's manner toward her became less gracious, and her schoolmates made fewer efforts to conceal from her the fact that she was not one of them, Carmen prepared for the inevitable. Six months after the girl's enrollment, Madam Elwin terminated her series of disparaging reports to Ketchim by a request that he come at once and remove his charge from the school.

"As I have repeatedly said, Mr. Ketchim, the girl is a paradox. And after these months of disappointing effort to instruct her, I am forced to throw up my hands in despair and send for you." Madam Elwin tapped nervously with a dainty finger upon the desk before her.

"But, if I may be permitted the question, what specific reasons have you, Madam, for--ah, for requesting her removal?" asked the very Reverend Dr. William Jurges, who, having come up to the city to attend a meeting of the directors of the Simiti company, had accepted Ketchim's invitation to first accompany him on his flying trip to Conway-on-the-Hudson, in response to Madam Elwin's peremptory summons.

"Because," replied that worthy personage with a show of exasperation, "I consider her influence upon the young ladies here quite detrimental.

Our school, while non-sectarian, is at least Christian. Miss Carmen is not. Where she got her views, I can not imagine. At first she made frequent mention of a Catholic priest, who taught her in her home town, in South America. But of late she has grown very reserved--I might say, sullen, and talks but little. Her views, however, are certainly not Catholic. In her cla.s.s work she has become impossible. She refuses to accept a large part of our instruction. Her answers to examination questions are wholly in accord with her peculiar views, and hence quite apart from the texts. For that reason she fails to make any grades, excepting in mathematics and the languages. She utterly refuses to accept any religious instruction whatsoever. She would not be called atheistic, for she talks--or used to at first--continually about G.o.d.

But her G.o.d is not the G.o.d of the Scriptures, Dr. Jurges. She is a free-thinker, in the strictest sense. And as such, we can not consent to her remaining longer with us."

"Ah--quite so, Madam, quite so," returned the clergyman, in his unconsciously pompous manner. "Doubtless the child's thought became--ah--contaminated ere she was placed in your care. But--ah--I have heard so much from our good friend, Mr. Ketchim, regarding this young girl, that--ah--I should like exceedingly to see and talk with her--if it might be--ah--"

"Madam Elwin will arrange that, I am sure," interposed Ketchim.

"Suppose," he suggested, addressing the lady, "we let him talk with her, while I discuss with you our recently acquired mine in South America, and the advisability of an investment with us."

"Certainly," acquiesced Madam Elwin, rising and pressing one of the several b.u.t.tons in the desk. "Bring Miss Carmen," she directed, to the maid who answered the summons.

"Pardon me," interrupted Dr. Jurges; "but may I go to her? Ah--it would doubtless be less embarra.s.sing for the child."

"Miss Carmen was in the chapel a few moments ago," volunteered the maid.

"Then take the doctor there," returned Madam Elwin, with a gesture of dismissal.

At the head of the stairway the mingled sounds of a human voice and the soft, trembling notes of an organ drifted through the long hall and fell upon the ears of the clergyman.

"Miss Carmen," said the maid, answering his unspoken thought. "She often comes up to the chapel and sings for hours at a time--alone. The chapel is down there," pointing to the end of the hall.

"Then--ah--leave me," said the doctor. "I will proceed alone."

The maid turned willingly and went below, while the man tiptoed to the chapel door. There he stopped and stood listening. The girl was singing in Spanish, and he could not understand the words. But they would have meant nothing to him then. It was the voice upon which they were borne that held him. The song was a weird lament that had come down to the children of Simiti from the hard days of the _Conquistadores_. It voiced the untold wrongs of the Indian slaves; its sad, unvarying minor echoed their smothered moans under the cruel goad; on the plaintive melody of the repeated chorus their piteous cries were carried to heaven's deaf ears; their dull despair floated up on the wailing tones of the little organ, and then died away, as died the hope of the innocent victims of Spanish l.u.s.t.

The reverend doctor had never heard a song of that kind before. Nor could he readily a.s.sociate the voice, which again and again he could not distinguish from the flute-like tones of the organ, with the sordidness and grime of material, fleshly existence. He entered softly and took a seat in the shadow of a pillar. The clear, sweet voice of the young girl flowed over him like celestial balm. Song after song she sang. Some were dreamy bits and s.n.a.t.c.hes in Spanish and English; others were sacred in character. He wondered deeply, as the girl mused over these; yet he knew not that they were her own compositions.

Curiosity and uncertainty mastered him at length, and he got softly to his feet and moved away from the pillar, that he might see from what manner of being issued such unbroken harmony. But in his eagerness his foot struck a chair, and the sound echoed loudly through the room.

The music abruptly ceased, and the girl rose and looked over the organ at the intruder.

"I--I beg your pardon," said the clergyman, advancing in some embarra.s.sment. "I was listening to your singing--uninvited, but none the less appreciative. I--"

"Wait, please!" cried the girl, hastily stooping over and fumbling with her shoes. The doctor laughed genially, as he grasped the situation.

"I took them off," she explained hurriedly. "I am not yet accustomed to them. I never wore shoes until I left Simiti." Her face was scarlet, and she tried to cover her confusion with a little laugh.

The doctor stood staring at her, lost in admiration of the shapely figure, the heavy, curling hair, and the wonderfully expressive face.

The girl quickly recovered her poise and returned him a frank smile.

"You wish to see me?" she said, after waiting in vain for him to begin.

"Ah--a--yes, certainly--that is, I beg your pardon," stammered the doctor. "I did request permission of Madam Elwin to make your acquaintance. We have heard so much about you. I am Doctor Jurges, an Episcopal clergyman." His sentences issued like blasts from an engine exhaust.

"I am Carmen Ariza," said the girl, extending her hand.

"Ah--quite so, quite so," bl.u.s.tered the doctor, clearing his throat noisily. "Let us be seated. Ah--ah--you have a remarkable voice. It gives evidence of careful cultivation."

"No," returned the girl simply. "It has never had any cultivation. It is natural for me to sing. And my poor organ-playing is what I have picked up myself these six months."

The man regarded her with amazement. "Remarkable!" he murmured.

The girl looked up into his face searchingly. "Why," she asked, "should every one up here think it remarkable when a human mind is clear enough to be a transparency for G.o.d?"

Had the roof fallen, the excellent doctor could have been no more startled. He cleared his throat violently again; then fumbled nervously in his pocket and drew out his gla.s.ses. These he poised upon the ample arch of his ecclesiastical nose, and through them turned a penetrating glance upon the girl.

"H'm! yes," said he at length; "quite so, quite so! And--ah--Miss Carmen, that brings us to the matter in question--your religious instruction--ah--may I ask from whom you received it?"

"From G.o.d," was the immediate and frank reply.

The clergyman started, but quickly recovered his equipoise.

"H'm! yes, quite so, quite so! All real instruction descendeth from above. But--your religious views--I believe they are not considered--ah--quite evangelical, are they? By your present a.s.sociates, that is."

"No," she replied, with a trace of sadness in her tone. "But," looking up with a queer little smile, "I am not persecuting them for that."

"Oh, no," with a jerky little laugh. "a.s.suredly not! H'm! I judge the persecution has come from the other side, has it not?"

"We will not speak of that," she said quickly. "They do not understand--that is all."

"H'm! no, quite so--that is--ah--may I ask why you think they do not understand? May not you be in error, instead?"

"If that which I believe is not true," the girl replied evenly, "it will fail under the test of demonstration. Their beliefs have long since failed under such test--and yet they still cling jealously to them, and try to force them upon all who disagree with them. I am a heretic, Doctor."

"H'm--ah--yes, I see. But--it is a quite unfortunate characteristic of mankind to attribute one's views indiscriminately to the Almighty--and--ah--I regret to note that you are not wholly free from this error."

"You do not understand, I think," she quickly returned. "I put every view, every thought, every idea to the test. If good is the result, I know that the thought or idea comes from the source of all good, G.o.d.

The views I hold are those which I have time and again tested--and some of them have withstood trials which I think you would regard as unusually severe." Her thought had rested momentarily upon her vivid experience in Banco, the dangers which had menaced her in distant Simiti, and the fire through which she had pa.s.sed in her first hours in Christian America, the land of churches, sects, and creeds.

"H'm!" the worthy doctor mused, regarding the girl first through his spectacles, and then over the tops of them, while his bushy eyebrows moved up and down with such comicality that Carmen could scarcely refrain from laughing. "H'm! quite so. Ah--suppose you relate to me some of the tests to which your views have been subjected."

"No," she returned firmly; "those experiences were only states of consciousness, which are now past and gone forever. Why rehea.r.s.e them?

They were human, and so, unreal. Why go back now and give them the appearance of reality?"

"Unreal! H'm--then you do not regard untoward experience as given us by G.o.d for the testing of our faith, I take it."

Carmen turned her head away with a little sigh of weariness. "I think," she said slowly, "I think we had better not talk about these things, Doctor. You are a preacher. Your views are not mine."

"Why--ah," bl.u.s.tered the clergyman, a.s.suming a more paternal air, "we--ah--would not for a moment cause you embarra.s.sment, Miss Carmen!

But--in fact, Madam Elwin has--ah--expressed her disapproval of your views--your religious ideals, if I may put it so baldly, and she--that is--the good lady regrets--"