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Almaville society had not received so profound a shock since the unexplained course of Sam Houston in returning his young bride to her parents and disappearing among the Indians. Shrewd Mrs. Crawford. Between Tiara and Ensal there existed a barrier which had seemingly prevented a development of the ties that all who knew the two expected with full assurance.
Ensal Ellwood entered his room in his home in Monrovia, Liberia, West Coast Africa, a thoroughly dejected man. He had just returned from an extended trip in which he took a survey of his work and contemplated the outlook. His investigations had served to increase his hopes as to the possibilities of the African race, but he was nevertheless depressed.
When the young woman was seated, Ensal took a seat and looked in her direction, saying, "Consider me at your service, please." There was an air of unnatural calm about the young woman. She now removed her hat from her head and Ensal noted that her hair was so arranged as to allow her face to fully stand as nature gave it to her, unrelieved.
At last Ensal discussed the book with such warmth that Mr. Hostility greatly rejoiced. Leaning across the table, his fiery eyes glowing more fiercely than ever, he almost shrieked: "Friend, aside from that book, knowest thou not unto what the content of the Southern policy is leading? Extinction, sir, extinction! Listen to me awhile."
I began watching you years ago and I have carefully noted the trend of events waiting for the moment that would make our spirits congenial to each other, and I do believe that the dark shadow under which you stand will sober you into fellowship with my sombre soul." "You seem to be bitter. I am more crushed than bitter," said Ensal.
She felt that Ensal would sacredly guard her revelations, but her disclosures would be of little service to him if he could not use them to protect himself in case the charge against her became public. Not desiring to put him in a possibly embarrassing position, Tiara concluded to bear her sorrow until such a time as she would be free to defend herself openly, if such a course became necessary.
Earl remembered that in Ensal's earlier days, he had suffered a fracture of his left arm, and in his struggling Earl now weighed heavily on that arm which began to weaken. Ensal soon saw that he was not going to be able to pinion Earl for the hour to intervene before the coming of the officer. So deciding, he concluded to stake all on a fall.
Lifting his head from his desk, he wearily turned to his mail. In the pile of letters he came across one from Earl Bluefield which ran as follows: MY DEAR ENSAL: There is great need of you in America at this hour, and a golden opportunity for winning an enduring place in the history of the world awaits you.
As pastor of a Negro church at a period when almost the entire leadership of the race was centered in that functionary, Ensal was accustomed to having all sorts of matters placed before him, but the present requirement was rather unique in all of his experience as a pastor.
Gus Martin was a Negro of brownish hue, whose high cheek bones, keen eyes, coarse black hair and erect carriage told plainly of the Indian blood in his veins. Gus was a great admirer of both Ensal and Earl Bluefield and the three had gone to the Spanish-American war together, Ensal, who was a minister, as chaplain, Gus and Earl as soldiers.
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