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diff --git a/15614-8.txt b/15614-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a99d345 --- /dev/null +++ b/15614-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9381 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ragged Edge, by Harold MacGrath + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ragged Edge + +Author: Harold MacGrath + +Release Date: April 13, 2005 [EBook #15614] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RAGGED EDGE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Clare Elliott and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. The Ragged Edge_. +MIMI PALMERI AS RUTH EMSCHEDE, ALFRED LUNT AS HOWARD SPURLOCK.] + + +THE RAGGED EDGE + + +BY +HAROLD MACGRATH + + +AUTHOR OF +DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, ETC. + + + + +ILLUSTRATED WITH SCENES +FROM THE PHOTOPLAY +PRODUCED BY +DISTINCTIVE PICTURES CORPORATION + + +NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS + + + + +THE RAGGED EDGE + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +The Master is inordinately fond of young fools. That is why they +are permitted to rush in where angels fear to tread--and survive +their daring! This supreme protection, this unwritten warranty to +disregard all laws, occult or apparent, divine or earthly, may be +attributed to the fact that none but young fools dream gloriously. +For such of us as pretend to be wise--and we are but fools in a +lesser degree--we know that humanity moves onward only by the +impellant of fine dreams. Sometimes these dreams are simple and +tender; sometimes they are magnificent. + +With what airs we human atoms invest ourselves! What ridiculous +fancies of our importance! We believe we have destinies, when we +have only destinations: that we are something immortal, when each +of us is in truth only the repository of a dream. The dream flowers +and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our +singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed +aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. + +We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. We have +only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. +Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the +other. + +This is a tale of two young fools. + + * * * * * + +In the daytime the streets of the ancient city of Canton are yet +filled with the original confusion--human beings in quest of food. +There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions +that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. + +It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. A tourist caravan of four +pole-chairs jogged along a narrow street. It had rained during the +night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. From a +bi-secting street came shouting and music. At a sign from Ah Cum, +official custodian of the sightseers, the pole-chair coolies +pressed toward the left and halted. + +A wedding procession turned the corner. All the world over a +wedding procession arouses laughter and derision in the bystanders. +Even the children jeer. It may be instinctive; it may be that +children vaguely realize that at the end of all wedding journeys is +disillusion. + +The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better +to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride. + +"What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. + +"Kingfisher feathers," said Ah Cum. "It is an ordinary wedding," he +added; "some shopkeeper's daughter. Probably she was married years +ago and is now merely on the way to her husband's house. The +palanquin is hired and so is the procession. Quite ordinary." + +The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, +swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the +pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the +girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. + +In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling +tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. She had never before heard +the noise of firecrackers, and in the beginning the sputtering +racket caused her to wince. Presently the odour of burnt powder +mingled agreeably with that of the incense. + +She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound--the +guttural Chinese tongue. She foraged about in her mind for some +satisfying equivalent which would express in English this gurgling +drone the Chinese called a language. At length she hit upon it: +bubbling water. Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, +now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, +she smiled. + +To Ah Cum, who was watching her covertly, the smile was like a bit +of unexpected sunshine. What with these converging roofs that shut +out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this +point. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. + +The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in +behind. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. + +The girl wished that she had come afoot, despite the knowledge that +she would have suffered many inconveniences, accidental and +intentional jostling, insolence and ribald jest. The Cantonese, +excepting in the shops where he expects profit, always resents the +intrusion of the _fan-quei_--foreign devil. The chair was torture. +It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested +upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental +chair with a foot-rest. The coolies proceeded at a swinging, +mincing trot, which gave to the suspended seat a dancing action +similar to that of a suddenly agitated hanging-spring of a +birdcage. It was impossible to meet the motion bodily. + +Her shoulders began to ache. Her head felt absurdly like one of +those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. Jiggle-joggle, +jiggle-joggle...! For each pause she was grateful. Whenever Ah Cum +(whose normal stride was sufficient to keep him at the side of her +chair) pointed out something of interest, she had to strain the +cords in her neck to focus her glance upon the object. Supposing the +wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the +street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. + +This amazing world she had set forth to discover! Yesterday at this +time she had had no thought in her head about Canton. America, the +land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly +thitherward. Yet, here she was, in the ancient Chinese city, +weaving in and out of the narrow streets some scarcely wide enough +for two men to walk abreast, streets that boiled and eddied with +yellow human beings, who worshipped strange gods, ate strange +foods, and diffused strange suffocating smells. These were less +like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. It +was only when they came into a square that daylight had a positive +quality. + +So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than +leaped from object to object. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly +varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; +baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and +blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what +appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. She +glimpsed Chinese penury when she entered a square given over to the +fishmongers. Carp, tench, and roach were so divided that even the +fins, heads and fleshless spines were sold. There were doorways to +peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, +potters and rug-weavers. + +Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a +stage-like platform. He wore a long coat, beautifully flowered, and +a hat with a turned up brim. Balanced on his nose were enormous +tortoise-shell spectacles. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the +corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his +chin. She was informed by Ah Cum that the Chinaman was one of the +_literati_ and that he was expounding the deathless philosophy of +Confucius, which, summed up, signified that the end of all +philosophy is Nothing. + +Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade +loom. Ah Cum halted the caravan and indicated that they might step +within and watch. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a +faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. He held in +his hands many threads. From time to time the man below would +shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a +harpist, only to recover them instantly. There was a strip of old +rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for +the want of it. + +The girl wondered what effect the information would have upon Ah +Cum if she told him that until a month ago she had never seen a +city, she had never seen a telephone, a railway train, an +automobile, a lift, a paved street. She was almost tempted to tell +him, if only to see the cracks of surprise and incredulity break +the immobility of his yellow countenance. + +But no; she must step warily. Curiosity held her by one hand, +urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Her +safety lay in pretense--that what she saw was as a tale twice told. + +A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at +will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers +of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance +level and ever forward. She possessed it, astonishing fact! She had +summoned this energy so continuously during the past four weeks +that now it was abiding; she knew that it would always be with her, +on guard. And immeasurable was the calm evolved from this +knowledge. + +The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of +retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again +the things she saw. + +"Jade," said Ah Cum. + +She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. Pole +coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade--white +jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. + +"On the way to the cutters," said Ah Cum. "But we must be getting +along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock." + +As if an order had come to her somewhere out of space, the girl +glanced sideways at the other young fool. + +So far she had not heard the sound of his voice. The tail-ender of +this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. But he had shown +no desire for information, no curiosity. Whenever they stepped from +the chairs, he stepped down. If they entered a shop, he paused by +the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. + +Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was +possibly twenty-four. She liked his face; it had on it the +suggestion of gentleness, of fineness. She was lamentably without +comparisons; such few young men as she had seen--white men--had +been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. + +The word _handsome_ was a little beyond her grasp. She could not +apply it in this instance because she was not sure the application +would be correct. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young +man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed +eyelids and the bloodshot whites. She knew the significance: the +red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. Was he, +too, on the way to the beach? What a pity! All alone, and none to +warn him of the abject wretchedness at the end of Drink. + +Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, +she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder +and shudder. He did not like it. Why, then, did he touch it? + +As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the +little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. He was in +misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. His clothes were +smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the +day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily +cleanliness. What a pity! + +For all her ignorance of material things--the human inventions +which served the physical comforts of man--how much she knew about +man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props +which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four--broken, +without resilience. And now she was witnessing or observing the +complicated machinery of civilization through which they had come, +at length to land on the beach of her island. She knew now the +supreme human energy which sent men to hell or carried them to +their earthly heights. Selfishness. + +Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his +bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid +pictures she had seen so often. In her case the barrier was not +selfishness but the perception that her interest would be +misinterpreted, naturally. What right had a young woman to possess +the scarring and intimate knowledge of that dreg of human society, +the beachcomber? + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Ah Cum lived at No. 6 Chiu Ping le, Chiu Yam Street. He was a +Canton guide, highly educated, having been graduated from Yale +University. If he took a fancy to you, he invited you to the house +for tea, bitter and yellow and served in little cups without +handles. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like +as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket. + +He was tall, slender, and suave. He spoke English with astonishing +facility and with a purity which often embarrassed his tourists. He +made his headquarters at the Victoria on the Sha-mien, and +generally met the Hong-Kong packet in the morning. You left +Hong-Kong at night, by way of the Pearl River, and arrived in Canton +the next morning. Ah Cum presented his black-bordered card to such +individuals as seemed likely to require his services. + +This morning his entourage (as he jestingly called it) consisted of +the girl, two spinsters (Prudence and Angelina Jedson), prim and +doubtful of the world, and the young man who appeared to be +considerably the worse for the alcohol he had consumed. + +In the beginning Ah Cum would run his glance speculatively over the +assortment and select that individual who promised to be the most +companionable. He was a philosopher. Usually his charges bored him +with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information +more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. To-day +he selected the girl, and gave her the lead-chair. He motioned the +young man to the rear chair, because at that hour the youth +appeared to be a quantity close to zero. Being a Chinaman in blood +and instinct, he despised all spinsters; they were parasites. A +woman was born to have children, particularly male children. + +Half a day had turned the corner of the hours; and Ah Cum admitted +that this girl puzzled him. He dug about in his mind for a term to +fit her, and he came upon the word _new_. She was new, unlike any +other woman he had met in all his wide travel. He could not tell +whether she was English or American. From long experience with both +races he had acquired definitions, but none snugly applied to this +girl. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, +reserve, repression. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but +from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him +to grope mentally. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the +average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. + +Ah, these English! They travelled all over, up and down the world, +not to acquire information but rather to leave the impress of their +superiority as a race. It was most amusing. They would suffer +amazing hardships to hunt the snow-leopard; but in the Temple of +Five Hundred Gods they would not take the trouble to ask the name +of one! + +But this girl, she was alone. That added to his puzzle. At this +moment she was staring ahead; and again came the opportunity to +study her. Fine but strong lines marked the profile: that would +speak for courage and resolution. She was as fair as the lily of +the lotus. That suggested delicacy; and yet her young body was +strong and vital. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? + +A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a +spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had +become separated. It was then that the young man entered his +thought with some permanency: because there was no apparent reason +for his joining the tour, since from the beginning he had shown no +interest in anything. He never asked questions; he never addressed +his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his +forehead. For the first time it occurred to Ah Cum that the young +man might not be quite conscious of his surroundings, that he might +be moving in that comatose state which is the aftermath of a long +debauch. For all that, Ah Cum was forced to admit that his charge +did not look dissipated. + +Ah Cum was more or less familiar with alcoholic types. In the +genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness +in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the +lips. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only +shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes. He was +more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of +convalescence. + +Ah Cum's glance returned to the girl. Of course, it really +signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was +travelling alone. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary +situation was her manner: she was guileless. She reminded him of +his linnet, when he gave the bird the freedom of the house: it +became filled with a wild gaiety which bordered on madness. All +that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should +burst into song. + +But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically. His commissions this +day would not fill his metal pipe with one wad of tobacco. The +spinsters had purchased one grass-linen tablecloth; the girl and +the young man had purchased nothing. That she had not bought one +piece of linen subtly established in Ah Cum's mind the fact that +she had no home, that the instinct was not there, or she would have +made some purchase against the future. + +Between his lectures--and primarily he was an itinerant lecturer--he +manoeuvred in vain to acquire some facts regarding the girl, who she +was, whence she had come; but always she countered with: "What is +that?" Guileless she might be; simple, never. + +It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. +Here they would be having lunch. Ah Cum said that it was customary +to give the chair boys small money for rice. The four tourists +contributed varied sums: the spinsters ten cents each, the girl a +shilling, the young man a Mexican dollar. The lunches were +individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered +from the Victoria. + +"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters--Prudence Jedson. + +"Yes," answered the girl. + +"Aren't you afraid?" + +"Of what?"--serenely. + +"The men." + +"They know." + +"They know what?" + +"When and when not to speak. You have only to look resolute and +proceed upon your way." + +Ah Cum lent an ear covertly. + +"How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. + +The spinsters offered a good example of how singular each human +being is, despite the fact that in sisters the basic corpuscle is +the same. Prudence was the substance and Angelina the shadow; for +Angelina never offered opinions, she only agreed with those +advanced by Prudence. + +"I am twenty," said the girl. + +Prudence shook her head. "You must have travelled a good deal to +know so much about men." + +The girl smiled and began to munch a sandwich. Secretly she was +gratified to be assigned to the rôle of an old traveller. Still, it +was true about men. Seldom they molested a woman who appeared to +know where she was going and who kept her glance resolutely to the +fore. + +Said Prudence, with commendable human kindness: "My sister and I +are going on to Shanghai and Peking. If you are going that way, why +not join us." + +The girl's blood ran warmly for a minute. "That is very kind of +you, but I am on my way to America. Up to dinner yesterday I did +not expect to come to Canton. I was the last on board. Wasn't the +river beautiful under the moonlight?" + +"We did not leave our cabins. Did you bring any luggage?" + +"All I own. In this part of the world it is wise never to be +separated from your luggage." + +The girl fished into the bottle for an olive. How clever she was, +to fool everybody so easily! Not yet had any one suspected the +truth: that she was, in a certain worldly sense, only four weeks +old, that her every act had been written down on paper beforehand, +and that her success lay in rigidly observing the rules which she +herself had drafted to govern her conduct. + +She finished the olive and looked up. Directly in range stood the +strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. He +was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. She noted +the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. What +a pity! But why? + +There was no way over this puzzle, nor under it, nor around it: +that men should drink, knowing the inevitable payment. This young +man did not drink because he sought the false happiness that lured +men to the bottle. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the +night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent +manner of his tippling. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered +throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze +roved inquisitively. Apparently he had projected beyond his table +some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining +hour. + +Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was +he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old +Kanaka woman had said. Yes, yes; that was all very well in ordinary +cases; but yonder was a soul in travail, if ever she had seen one. +Here was not the individual against whom she had been warned. He +had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow +travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. +She went further: she doubted that he was fully conscious of where +he was. + +Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch. +A little kindness would not bring the world tumbling about her +ears. So she approached him with sandwiches. + +"You forgot your lunch," she said. "Won't you take these?" + +For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were +real. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. + +"Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts. I'm not +hungry." + +"Better eat these, even if you don't want them," she urged. "My +name is Ruth Enschede." + +"Mine is Howard Spurlock." + +Immediately he stepped back. Instinctively she imitated this +action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror +that confronted her. Why should he stare at her in this +fashion?--for all the world as if she had pointed a pistol at his +head? + + + +CHAPTER III + + +He had said it, spoken it like that ... his own name! After all +these weeks of trying to obliterate even the memory of it!... to +have given it to this girl without her asking! + +The thought of peril cleared a space in the alcoholic fog. He saw +the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, +that it was the reflected pattern of his own. He shut his eyes and +groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of +mummery would get over. + +"I beg your pardon!... A bit rocky this morning.... That window +there.... Cloud back of your hat!" He opened his eyes again. + +"I understand," she said. The poor boy, imagining things! "That's +want of substantial food. Better take these sandwiches." + +"All right; and thank you. I'll eat them when we start. Just now +the water-chestnuts...." + +She smiled, and returned to the spinsters. + +Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts. What he needed was not +a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts +soothed his burning tongue and throat. He had let go his name so +easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he +could not remember. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not +remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had +forgotten his. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his +feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. Mirages, over which he +was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since +invariably they spanned solid ground. + +But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. If he +adhered to this policy--to keep away from her inconspicuously--she +would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it +would sink below the level of recollection. That was life. They +were only passers-by. + +Drink for him had a queer phase. It did not cheer or fortify him +with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a +mist of unreality. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. He hated +the taste of it. The first peg was torture. But for all that, it +offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and +conscience lost its edge to bite. + +He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. His hand shook so +violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on +the floor because he dared not stoop. + +Ah Cum, sensing the difficulty, approached, recovered the damp +handkerchief and returned it. + +"Thanks." + +"Very interesting," said the Chinaman, with a wave of his tapering +hand toward the roofs. "It reminds you of a red sea suddenly +petrified." + +"Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. +Ants." + +"You are from America?" + +"Yes." But Spurlock put up his guard. + +"I am a Yale man," said Ah Cum. + +"Yale? Why, so am I." There was no danger in admitting this fact. +Spurlock offered his hand, which Ah Cum accepted gravely. A broken +laugh followed the action. "Yale!" Spurlock's gaze shifted to the +dead hills beyond the window; when it returned to the Chinaman +there was astonishment instead of interest: as if Ah Cum had been a +phantom a moment since and was now actually a human being. "Yale!" +A Chinaman who had gone to Yale! + +"Yes. Civil engineering. Mentally but not physically competent. Had +to give up the work and take to this. I'm not noble; so my +honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves." + +"Graves." Spurlock pointed in the sloping fields outside the walls. +"I've counted ten coffins so far." + +"Ah, yes. The land about these walls is a common graveyard. Every +day in the year you will witness such scenes. There are no funerals +among the poor, only burials. And many of these deaths could be +avoided if it were not for superstition. Superstition is the +Chinese Reaper. Rituals instead of medicines. Sometimes I try to +talk. I might as well try to build a ladder to heaven. We must take +the children--of any race--if we would teach knowledge. Age is set, +impervious to innovations." + +The Chinaman paused. He saw that his words were falling upon dull +ears. He turned to observe what this object was that had so +unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. It was the girl. +She was standing before a window, against the background of the +rain-burdened April sky. There was enough contra-light to render +her ethereal. + +Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate +or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. He was +always word-building, a metaphorist, lavish with singing +adjectives; but often he built in confusion because it was +difficult to describe something beautiful in a new yet simple way. + +He had not noticed the girl particularly when she offered the +sandwiches; but in this moment he found her beautiful. Her face +reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with +blond wine. But there was something else; and in his befogged +mental state the comparison eluded him. + +Ruth broke the exquisite pose by summoning Ah Cum, who was lured +into a lecture upon the water-clock. This left Spurlock alone. + +He began munching his water-chestnuts--a small brown radish-shaped +vegetable, with the flavour of coconut--that grow along the river +brims. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which +presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. This made the +eleventh. There were no mourners. But what did the occupant of the +box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the +muddle. + +From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several +five-story towers of the pawnshops. Celestial Uncles! Spurlock +chuckled, and a bit of chestnut, going down the wrong way, set him +to coughing violently. When the paroxysm passed, he was forced to +lean against the window-jamb for support. + +"That young man had better watch his cough," said Spinster +Prudence. "He acts queerly, too." + +"They always act like that after drink," said Ruth, casually. + +She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately +sensed that she had said too much. There was no way of recalling +the words; so she waited. + +"Miss Enschede--such an odd name!--are you French?" + +"Oh, no. Pennsylvania Dutch. But I have never seen America. I was +born on an island in the South Seas. I am on my way to an aunt who +lives in Hartford, Connecticut." + +The spinsters nodded approvingly. Hartford had a very respectable +sound. + +Ruth did not consider it necessary, however, to add that she had +not notified this aunt of her coming, that she did not know whether +the aunt still resided in Hartford or was underground. These two +elderly ladies would call her stark mad. Perhaps she was. + +"And you have seen ... drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of +suppressed horror. + +"Often. A very small settlement, mostly natives. There was a +trader--a man who bought copra and pearls. Not a bad man as men +go, but he would sell whisky and gin. Over here men drink because +they are lonely; and when they drink too hard and too long, they +wind up on the beach." + +The spinsters stared at her blankly. + +Ruth went on to explain. "When a man reaches the lowest scale +through drink, we call him a beachcomber. I suppose the phrase--the +word--originally meant a man who searched for food on the beach. +The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. It is queer, but men of +education and good birth fall swiftest and lowest." + +She sent a covert glance toward the young man. She alone of them +all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to +the beach. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him. He was all +alone, like herself. + +"What are those odd-looking things on the roofs?" she asked of Ah +Cum. + +"Pigs and fish, to fend off the visitations of the devil." Ah Cum +smiled. "After all, I believe we Chinese have the right idea. The +devil is on top, not below. We aren't between him and heaven; he is +between us and heaven." + +The spinsters had no counter-philosophy to offer; so they turned to +Ruth, who had singularly and unconsciously invested herself with +glamour, the glamour of adventure, which the old maids did not +recognize as such because they were only tourists. This child at +once alarmed and thrilled them. She had come across the wicked +South Seas which were still infested with cannibals; she had seen +drunkenness and called men beachcombers; who was this moment as +innocent as a babe, and in the next uttered some bitter wisdom it +had taken a thousand years of philosophy to evolve. And there was +that dress of hers! She must be warned that she had been imposed +upon. + +"You'll pardon an old woman, Miss Enschede," said Sister Prudence; +"but where in this world did you get that dress?" + +Ruth picked up both sides of the skirt and spread it, looking down. +"Is there anything wrong with it?" + +"Wrong? Why, you have been imposed upon somewhere. That dress is +thirty years old, if a day." + +"Oh!" Ruth laughed softly. "That is easily explained. I haven't +much money; I don't know how much it is going to cost me to reach +Hartford; so I fixed over a couple of my mother's dresses. It +doesn't look bad, does it?" + +"Mercy, no! That wasn't the thought. It was that somebody had +cheated you." + +The spinster did not ask if the mother lived; the question was +inconsequent. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world +with such a wardrobe. Straitened circumstances would not have +mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. In the '80s such a +dress would have indicated considerable financial means; under the +sun-helmet it was an anachronism; and yet it served only to add a +quainter charm to the girl's beauty. + +"Do you know what you make me think of?" + +"What?" + +"As if you had stepped out of some old family album." + +The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever +occurred in her life to tingle them into action. She was dressed as +a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her +instincts. But she threw a verbal bombshell into the spinsters' +camp. + +"What is a family album?" + +"You poor child, do you mean to tell me you've never seen a family +album? Why, it's a book filled with the photographs of your +grandmothers and grandfathers, your aunts and uncles and cousins, +your mother and father when they were little." + +Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall. "No; we +never had one; at least, I never saw it." + +The lack of a family album for some reason put a little ache in her +heart. Grandmothers and grandfathers and uncles and aunts ... to +love and to coddle lonely little girls. + +"You poor child!" said Prudence. + +"Then I am old-fashioned. Is that it? I thought this very pretty." + +"So it is, child. But one changes the style of one's clothes +yearly. Of course, this does not apply to uninteresting old maids," +Prudence modified with a dry little smile. + +"But this is good enough to travel in, isn't it?" + +"To be sure it is. When you reach San Francisco, you can buy +something more appropriate." It occurred to the spinster to ask: +"Have you ever seen a fashion magazine?" + +"No. Sometimes we had the _Illustrated London News_ and _Tit-Bits._ +Sailors would leave them at the trader's." + +"Alice in Wonderland!" cried Prudence, perhaps a little enviously. + +"Oh, I've read that!" + +Spurlock had heard distinctly enough all of this odd conversation; +but until the spinster's reference to the family album, no phrase +had been sufficient in strength of attraction to break the trend of +his own unhappy thoughts. Out of an old family album: here was the +very comparison that had eluded him. His literary instincts began +to stir. A South Sea island girl, and this was her first adventure +into civilization. Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; +but he knew that Howard Spurlock would never write it. + +Other phrases returned now, like echoes. The beachcomber, the +lowest in the human scale; and some day he would enter into this +estate. Between him and the beach stood the sum of six hundred +dollars. + +But one thing troubled him, and because of it he might never arrive +on the beach. A new inexplicable madness that urged him to shrill +ironically the story of his coat--to take it off and fling it at +the feet of any stranger who chanced to be nigh. + +"Look at it!" he felt like screaming. "Clean and spotless, but +beginning to show the wear and tear of constant use. I have worn it +for weeks and weeks. I have slept with it under my pillow. Observe +it--a blue-serge coat. Ever hear of the djinn in the bottle? Like +enough. But did you ever hear of a djinn in a blue-serge coat? +_Stitched_ in!" + +Something like this was always rushing into his throat; and he had +to sink his nails into his palms to stop his mouth. Very +fascinating, though, trying to analyse the impulse. It was not an +affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and +defiance. He wondered if these abnormal mental activities presaged +illness. To be ill and helpless. + +He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. +He hated horizons. He was always visualizing the Hand whenever he +let his gaze rest upon the horizon. An enormous Hand that rose up +swiftly, blotting out the sky. A Hand that strove to reach his +shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. The scrutiny of any +strange man provoked a sweaty terror. What a God-forsaken fool he +was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas--the beach! + +Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this +fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have +done. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl +(who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred +to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was +profoundly sad. + +The beach: to get there as quickly as he could, to reach the white +man's nadir of abasement and gather the promise of that soothing +indifference which comes with the final disintegration of the +fibres of conscience. He had an objective now. + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +The tourists returned to the Sha-mien at four o'clock. They were +silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the +tedious action of the chairs. Even Ah Cum had resumed his Oriental +shell of reserve. To reach the Sha-mien--and particularly the Hotel +Victoria--one crossed a narrow canal, always choked with rocking +sampans over and about which swarmed yellow men and women and +children in varied shades of faded blue cotton. At sunset the +swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer +together, with the quiet of water-fowl. There is everywhere at +night in China the original fear of darkness. + +From the portals of the hotel--scarcely fifty yards from the +canal--one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. Blank +it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead. Into this hole in the +wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, +when the stream mysteriously ceased. The silence of Canton at night +was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might +suddenly boil out. + +No Cantonese was in those days permitted to cross to the Sha-mien +after sunset without a license. To simplify matters, he carried a +coloured paper lantern upon which his license number was painted in +Arabic numerals. It added to the picturesqueness of the Sha-mien +night to observe these gaily coloured lanterns dancing hither and +yon like June fireflies in a meadow. + +Meantime the spinsters sought the dining room where tea was being +served. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. + +"But she is a dear," said Angelina, timidly. + +"I'll admit that. But I don't understand her; she's over my head. +She leaves me almost without comparisons. She is like some +character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty +years and just been excavated. That's the way she strikes me. And +it's uncanny." + +"But I never saw anybody more alive." + +"Who wouldn't be lively after thirty years' sleep? Did you hear her +explain about beachcombers? And yet she looks at one with the +straightest glance I ever saw. Still, I'm glad she didn't accept my +invitation to join us. I shouldn't care to have attention +constantly drawn to us. This world over here! Everything's +upside-down or back-end-to. Humph!" + +"What's the matter?" + +"Sh!" + +Spurlock passed by on the way to the bar. Apparently he did not see +his recent companions. There was a strained, eager expression on +his face. + +"Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment +of Prudence. + +"The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. + +"Pah! He's a fool. I never saw a man who wasn't." + +"There was Father," suggested Angelina gently. + +"Ninny! What did we know about Father, except when he was around +the house? But where is the girl? She said something about having +tea with us. I want to know more about her. I wonder if she has any +idea how oddly beautiful she is?" + +Ruth at that precise moment was engaged by a relative wonder. She +was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, +and perhaps bewilderedly. What was the matter with the dress? She +could not see. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her +delight, a new toy. Here was one that subtly mocked her. + +Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities. +Each human contact leaves some indelible mark. The spinsters--who +on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever--had +already left their imprint upon her imagination. Clothes. +Henceforth Ruth would closely observe her fellow women and note the +hang of their skirts. + +Around her neck was a little gold chain. She gathered up the chain, +revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. The locket +contained the face of her mother--all the family album she had. She +studied the face and tried to visualize the body, clothed in the +dress which had created the spinsters' astonishment. Very well. +To-morrow, when she returned to Hong-Kong, she would purchase a +simple but modern dress. Anything that drew attention to her must be +avoided. + +She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. It was precious +for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom +she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in +Hartford. + +She uttered a little ejaculative note of joy and rushed to the bed. +A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. Oh, the beautiful books! +Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her +arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. Love +stories! It was of negligible importance that these books were +bound in paper; Romance lay unalterably within. All these wonderful +comrades, henceforth and for ever hers. She would never again be +lonely. Les Misérables, A Tale of Two Cities, Henry Esmond, The +Last Days of Pompeii, The Marble Faun ... Love stories! + +Until her arrival in Singapore, she had never read a novel. +Pilgrim's Progress, The Life of Martin Luther and Alice in +Wonderland (the only fairy-story she had been permitted to read) +were the sum total of her library. But in the appendix of the +dictionary she had discovered magic names--Hugo, Dumas, Thackeray, +Hawthorne, Lytton. She had also discovered the names of Grimm and +Andersen; but at that time she had not been able to visualize "the +pale slender things with gossamer wings"--fairies. The world into +which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but +never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. Already +Cosette was her chosen friend. Daily contact with actual human +beings all the more inclined her toward the imaginative. + +Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body +began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the +room. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden +tom-toms. + +Eventually her movements carried her to the little stand at the +side of the bed. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp +black leather--the Holy Bible. + +Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, +communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. She stood +without motion and without strength. The books slid from her arms +and fluttered to the floor. Presently repellance grew under the +frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. + +"No!" she cried. "No, no!" + +With a gesture, fierce and intolerant, she seized the Bible and +thrust it out of sight, into the drawer. Then, her body still tense +with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and +rocked from side to side. But shortly this movement ceased. The +recollection of the forlorn and loveless years--stirred into +consciousness by the unexpected confrontation--bent her as the high +wind bends the water-reed. + +"My father!" she whispered. "My own father!" + +Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there +intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived +would ever be recurring. She saw the moonlit waters, the black +shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the +bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of +the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away +from the sides--and the beating of her heart. The flight. + +How she had fought her eagerness in the beginning, lest it reveal +her ignorance of the marvels of mankind! The terror and ecstasy of +that night in Singapore--the first city she had ever seen! There +was still the impression that something akin to a miracle had +piloted her successfully from one ordeal to another. + +The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. +She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. +She had not been sufficiently prompted in relation to the ways of +caravansaries; but her mind had been alert and receptive. Almost at +once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her +name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, +perhaps a trifle laboriously. Ruth Enschede, Hartford, Conn. The +address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an +infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space. + +She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the +battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. In Europe or in America +people would have smiled; but in Singapore--the half-way port of +the world--where a human kaleidoscope tumbles continuously east and +west, no one had remarked her. + +She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great +dining room. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage +had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. Every +eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation +to be the conceit of her imagination. + +The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the +women had disturbed and distressed her. Women, she had been taught, +who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in +a special catagory of the damned. Almost instantly she had +recognized the fallacy of such a statement. These women could not +be bad, else the hotel would not have permitted them to enter! +Still, the scene presented a riddle: to give immunity to the black +women who went about all but naked and to damn the white for +exposing their shoulders! + +She had eaten but little; all her hunger had been in her eyes--and +in her heart. Loneliness--something that was almost physical: as if +the vitality had been taken out of the air she breathed. The +longing to talk to someone! But in the end she had gone to her room +without giving in to the craving. + +Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had +dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the +mountain in the morning. Even then she had understood vaguely that +she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never +lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. + +Another picture slid across her vision. She saw herself begin a +slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, +conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native--the +same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. She had fallen +into it naturally, the only expression of the dance she had ever +seen or known, and that a stolen sweet. That was odd: when young +people were joyous, they had to express it physically. But native! +She must watch out. + +She remembered that she had not gone to bed until two o'clock in +the morning. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had +watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and +only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw +wheels in the courtyard. + +The great ordeal--that which she had most dreaded--had proved to be +no ordeal at all. The kindly American consul-general had himself +taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a +letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. Everything had so +far come to pass as the withered old Kanaka woman had foretold. + +"The Golden One knows that I have seen the world; therefore follow +my instructions. Never glance sideways at man. Nothing else +matters." + +The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her. +Her wings were oddly weak, but for all that she could fly. That was +the glorious if bewildering truth. She had left for ever the cage, +the galling leash: she was free. The misty caravans of which she +had dreamed were become actualities. She had but to choose. All +about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. Romance! The +romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to +the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled +ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! + +She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books +to her heart. + + + +CHAPTER V + + +At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an +invitation she accepted gratefully. She was not afraid exactly, but +there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. +Detached, it was not impossible that she would be forced to leave +the dining room because of invading tears. To be near someone, even +someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her +own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. The world +had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. Doubts began to +rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. Could she go +through with it? She must. She would never, never go back. + +As usual the substantive sister--Prudence--did all the talking for +the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods. +Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the +gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a +sharp glance of disapproval. Angelina's distress over these +mischances was pathetic. + +None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no +developing. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself +one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always +pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous +environment had been particularly humourless. But if she smiled at +all it was with her eyes. To-night she could have hugged both the +old maids. + +"Somebody ought to get hold of that young man," said Prudence, +grimly, as she nodded in Spurlock's direction. "Look at him!" + +Ruth looked. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he +shuddered. A siphon and a whisky bottle stood before him. He +measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his +hand. His food lay untouched about his plate. There was no disgust +in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful +understand. + +"I'm sorry," she said. + +"I have no sympathy," replied Prudence, "with a man who +deliberately fuddles himself with strong drink." + +"You would, if you had seen what I have. Men in this part of the +world drink to forget the things they have lost." + +"And what should a young man like this one have to forget?" +Prudence demanded to know. + +"I wonder," said Ruth. "Couldn't you speak to him?" + +"What?--and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" + +"That is it. You complain of a condition, but you leave the +correction to someone else." + +The spinster had no retort to offer such directness. This child was +frequently disconcerting. Prudence attacked her chicken wing. + +"If I spoke to him, my interest might be misinterpreted." + +"Where did you go to school?" Prudence asked, seeking a new +channel, for the old one appeared to be full of hidden reefs. + +"I never went to school." + +"But you are educated!"--astonished. + +"That depends upon what you call educated. Still, my tutor was a +highly educated scholar--my father." Neither spinster noticed the +reluctance in the tones. + +"Ah! I see. He suddenly realized that he could not keep you for +ever in this part of the world; so he sends you to your aunt. That +dress! Only a man--and an unworldly one--would have permitted you +to proceed on your adventure dressed in a gown thirty years out of +date. What is your father's business?" + +The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. + +"Souls," she answered, drily. + +"A missioner! That illuminates everything." The spinster's face +actually became warm. "You will finish your education in the East +and return. I see." + +"No. I shall never come back." + +Something in the child's voice, something in her manner, warned the +spinster that her well-meaning inquisitiveness had received a +set-back and that it would be dangerous to press it forward again. +What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another +phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. A sinister thought +edged in. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a +fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and +forced him down, step by step, until--to use the child's odd +expression--he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this +spinster. There was no such a thing as perfection in a mixed world. +Clergymen were human. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that +one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. +With the last glimmer of decency he had sent the daughter to his +sister. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on +that island of hers! + +The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned +gratefully toward the sound. + +The young man had knocked over the siphon. He rose, steadied +himself, then walked out of the dining room. Except for the dull +eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to +indicate that he was deep in liquor. He did not stagger in the +least. And in this fact lay his danger. The man who staggers, whose +face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or +truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. But men of +the Spurlock type, who walk straight, who are unobtrusive and +intensely pale, they break swiftly and inexplicably. They seldom +arrive on the beach. There are way-stations--even terminals. + +There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. Perhaps +it was loneliness. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was +wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. But he would die if +he continued in this course. They were alike in one phase--loveless +and lonely. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if +she died, who would care? + +A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to +see the folly of trying to forget. Of what use was the temporary +set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled +poignancy? + +Then came another thought, astonishing. This was the first young +man who had drawn from her something more than speculative +interest. True, on board the ships she had watched young men from +afar, but only with that normal curiosity which is aroused in the +presence of any new species. But after Singapore she found herself +enduing them with the characteristics of the heroes in the novels +she had just read for the first time. This one was Henry Esmond, +that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any +villains. It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with +evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. + +Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there +was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. Why? +Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could +remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision--Sidney Carton. +The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine +end. + +Here, then, but for the time and place, might be another Sidney +Carton. Given the proper incentive, who could say that he might not +likewise go nobly to some fine end? She thrilled. To find the +incentive! But how? Thither and yon the idea roved, seeking the +way. But always this new phase in life which civilization called +convention threw up barrier after barrier. + +She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she +knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. Had +she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins +in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense +of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present +some irresistible project. She recalled that day of the typhoon and +the sloop crashing on the outer reefs. The heroism of two beach +combers had saved all on board and their own manhood as well. + +"Are you returning to Hong-Kong to-morrow by the day boat?" + +For a moment Ruth was astonished at the sound of the spinster's +voice. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of +the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible +rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the +wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native +huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two +outcasts defying the elements. + +"I don't know," she answered vaguely. + +"But there's nothing more to see in Canton." + +"Perhaps I'm too tired to plan for to-morrow. Those awful chairs!" + +After dinner the spinsters proceeded to inscribe their accustomed +quota of postcards, and Ruth was left to herself. She walked +through the office to the door, aimlessly. + +Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. One of the coolies +held the paper lantern. Near by stood Ah Cum and the young unknown, +the former protesting gently, the latter insistent upon his +demands. + +"I repeat," said Ah Cum, "that the venture is not propitious. +Canton is all China at night. If we were set upon I could not +defend you. But I can easily bring in a sing-song girl to play for +you." + +"No. I want to make my own selection." + +"Very well, sir. But if you have considerable money, you had better +leave it in the office safe. You can pay me when we return. The +sing-song girls in Hong-Kong are far handsomer. That is a part of +the show in Hong-Kong. But here it is China." + +"If you will not take me, I'll find some guide who will." + +"I will take you. I simply warn you." + +Spurlock entered the office, passed Ruth without observing her (or +if he did observe her, failed to recognize her), and deposited his +funds with the manager. + +"I advise you against this trip, Mr. Taber," said the manager. +"Affairs are not normal in Canton at present. Only a few weeks ago +there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery +and the local police. Look at these walls." + +The walls were covered with racks of loaded rifles. In those +revolutionary times one had to be prepared. Some Chinaman might +take it into his head to shout: "Death to the foreign devils!" And +out of that wall yonder would boil battle and murder and sudden +death. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, +was a challenge to such a catastrophe. + +Taber. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. That did +not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of +the water-clock. She remained by the door until the walls of the +city swallowed the bobbing lantern. Then she went into the office. + +"What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. + +The manager twisted his moustache. "The same as a Japanese geisha +girl." + +"And what is a geisha girl?" + +Not to have heard of the geisha! It was as if she had asked: "What +is Paris?" What manner of tourist was this who had heard neither of +the geisha of Japan nor of the sing-song girl of China? Before he +could marshal the necessary phrases to explain, Ruth herself +indicated her thought. + +"A bad girl?" She put the question as she would have put any +question--level-eyed and level-toned. + +After a series of mental gymnastics--occupying the space of a few +seconds--it came to him with a shock that here was a new specimen +of the species. At the same time he comprehended that she was as +pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not +carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. He could talk to +her as frankly as he could to a man, that she would not take +offence at anything so long as it was in the form of explanation. +On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she +would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye. +All her questions would have as a background the idea of future +defence. + +"The geisha and the sing-song girl are professional entertainers. +They are not bad girls, but the average tourist has that +misconception of them. If some of them are bad in the sense you +mean, it is because there are bad folks in all walks of life. They +sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of +the street." + +The phrase was new, but Ruth nodded understandingly. + +"Still," went on the manager, "they are slaves in a sense; they are +bought and sold until their original indebtedness is paid. A father +is in debt, we'll say. He sells his daughter to a geisha or a +sing-song master, and the girl is rented out until the debt is paid. +Then the work is optional; they go on their own. There are sing-song +girls in Hong-Kong and Shanghai who are famous and wealthy. +Sometimes they marry well. If they become bad it is through +inclination, not necessity." + +Again Ruth nodded. + +"To go a little further. Morality is a point of view. It is an +Occidental point of view. The Oriental has no equivalent. What you +would look upon as immorality is here merely an established custom, +three thousand years older than Christianity, accepted with no more +ado than that which would accompany you should you become a clerk +in a shop." + +"That is what I wanted to know," said Ruth gravely. "The poor +things!" + +The manager laughed. "Your sympathy is being wasted. They are the +only happy women in the Orient." + +"Do you suppose he knew?" + +"He? Oh, you mean Mr. Taber?" He wondered if this crystal being was +interested in that blundering fool who had gone recklessly into the +city. "I don't know what his idea was." + +"Will there be any danger?" + +"To Mr. Taber? There is a possibility. Canton at night is as much +China as the border town of Lan-Chow-fu. A white man takes his life +in his hands. But Ah Cum is widely known for his luck. Besides," he +added cynically, "it is said that God watches over fools and +drunken men." + +This expression was old in Ruth's ears. She had heard the trader +utter it many times. + +"Thank you," she said, and left the office. + +The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and +returned to his ledgers. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, +the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, +it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the +mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all +combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever +met. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the +natural and pardonable simper of youth. + +Was she interested in that young ass who was risking his bones over +there in the city? They had come up on the same boat. Still, one +never could tell. The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as +the girl was in hers. He seldom spoke, and drank with a persistence +that was sinister. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of +the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. Supposing Ah +Cum's luck failed for once? + +The manager made a gesture of dismissal, and added up the bill for +the Misses Jedson, who were returning to Hong-Kong in the morning. + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Sidney Carton, thought Ruth, in pursuit of a sing-song girl! The +idea was so incongruous that a cold little smile parted her lips. +It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, +an invisible lash beat it back. Still, she knew instinctively that +all of Sidney Carton's life had not been put upon the printed page. +But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A +shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. + +She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor +with her chin resting upon the window-sill. Even the stars were +strangers. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in +fancy? Disillusion everywhere. The spinsters were not kind; they +were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years +out of date. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the +topic of many conversations. Everybody looked askance at everybody +else. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into +another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. + +She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic +blue horizon. Just beyond there would be her heart's desire. And in +these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons +were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes +were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill +of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked +a bitter truth--she was alone. + +She turned her cheek to the cold sill; and by and by the sill grew +warm and wet with tears. She wanted to stay where she was; but +tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would +become defensively. She rose briskly, turned on the light, and +opened Les Misérables to the episode of the dark forest: where Jean +Valjean reaches out and takes Cosette's frightful pail from her +chapped little hands. + +There must be persons tender and loving in this world. There must +be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? +Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who +could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with +love and anger and tenderness? + +Most of us have witnessed carnivals. Here are all our harlequins +and columbines of the spoken and written drama. They flash to and +fro, they thrill us with expectancy. Then, presto! What a dreary +lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! + +Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. The world had not passed +by but had gone around it in a tremendous half-circle. Many things +were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and +sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. +Her education was remarkable in that it was overdeveloped here and +underdeveloped there: the woman of thirty and the child of ten were +always getting in each other's way. Until she had left her island, +what she heard and what she saw were truths. And now she was +discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her +mirages and her horizons. + +At the present moment she was living in a world of her own +creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of +the tales she had so newly read for the first time. She could not +resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the +fictional characters. We all did that in our youth, when first we +came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. So, +step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith +was John Smith and nobody else. + +Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers. +That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. Cosette +sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll. +Dolls. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. She had never +had a real doll. Instinct had forced her to create something out of +rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. But a doll that rolled its +eyes and had flaxen hair! Except for the manual labour--there had +been natives to fetch and carry--she and Cosette were sisters in +loneliness. + +Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. A bobbing +lantern, crossing the bridge--for she had not drawn the +curtain--attracted her attention. She turned off the light and +approached the window. She saw a pole-chair; that would be this Mr. +Taber returning. Evidently Ah Cum's luck had held good. + +As she stared her eyes grew accustomed to the night; and she +discovered five persons instead of four. She remembered Taber's +hat. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking +beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours. She +could not see clearly. All at once her heart began to patter +queerly. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! + +The strange cortčge presently vanished below the window-sill. +Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of +Ruth's thoughts. She fought the inclination for a while, then +surrendered. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was +to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. + +Mirrors. Prior to the great adventure, her mirrors had been the +still pools in the rocks after the ebb. She had never been able to +discover where her father had hidden his shaving mirror. + +When she entered the office a strange scene was presented to her +startled gaze. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating +her forehead upon the floor and wailing: _Ai, ai! Ai, ai!_ +Spurlock--or Taber, as he called himself--sat slumped in a chair, +staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the +confusion for which he was primarily accountable. The hotel manager +was expostulating and Ah Cum was replying by a series of expressive +shrugs. + +"What has happened?" Ruth asked. + +"A drunken idea," said Ah Cum, taking his hands out of his sleeves. +"I could not make him understand." + +"She cannot stay here," the manager declared. + +"Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. + +Ah Cum explained. "She considers her future blasted beyond hope. +Mr. Taber did not leave all his money in the office. He insisted on +buying this girl for two hundred mex. He now tells her that she is +free, no longer a slave. She doesn't understand; she believes he +has taken a sudden dislike to her. Free, there is nothing left to +her but the canal. Until two hours ago she was as contented and as +happy as a linnet. If she returns to the house from which we took +her, her companions will laugh at her and smother her with +ridicule. On this side of the canal she has no place to go. Her +people live in Heng-Chow, in the Hu-nan province. It is all very +complex. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an +Eastern custom." + +"But why didn't you oppose him?" + +"I had to let him have his way, else he might not have returned +safely. One cannot successfully argue with a drunken man." + +The object of this discussion sat motionless. The voices went into +his ears but left no impression of their import. There was, in +fact, only one clear thought in his fevered brain: he had reached +the hotel without falling down. + +The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to +chatter rapidly. Ruth made a little gesture, of infinite pity; and +this was quickly seized upon by the slant-eyed Chinese girl. She +crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who +understood. + +"What is she saying to me?" + +Ah Cum shrugged. + +Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the +coursing tears. "But she is saying something to me! What is it?" + +The hotel manager, who spoke Cantonese with facility, interpreted. +He knew that he could translate literally. "She is saying that you, +a woman, will readily understand the position in which she finds +herself. She addresses you as the Flower of the Lotus, as the +Resplendent Moonbeam." + +"Just to give her her freedom?" said Ruth, turning to Ah Cum. + +"Precisely. The chair is in the veranda. I will take her back. But +of course the money will not be refunded. + +"Then take her back," said the manager. "You knew better than to +bring her here under the circumstances." + +"Well," said Ah Cum, amiably, "when I argued against the venture, +he threatened to go wandering about alone, I was most concerned in +bringing him back unhurt." + +He then spoke authoritatively to the girl. He appeared to thunder +dire happenings if she did not obey him without further ado. He +picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. The sing-song girl rose +and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. + +Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a +hand on his shoulder. + +"I understand," she said. Her faith in human beings revived. "You +tried to do something that was fine, and ... and civilization would +not let you." + +Spurlock turned his dull eyes and tried to focus hers. Suddenly he +burst into wild laughter; but equally as suddenly something +strangled the sound in his throat. He reached out a hand gropingly, +sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay +very still. + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short +duration. Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, +and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. With +a gesture which was without any kind of emotional expression, the +manager indicated the silent crumpled figure on the floor and gave +the room number. The Chinamen raised the limp body and carried it +to the hall staircase, up which they mounted laboriously. + +"A doctor at once!" cried Ruth excitedly. + +"A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of +ammonia. I can get that at the bar," the manager said, curtly. He +was not particularly grateful for the present situation. + +"I warn you, if you do not send for a doctor immediately, you will +have cause to regret it," Ruth declared vigorously. "Something more +than whisky did that. Why did you let him have it?" + +"Let him have it? I can't stand at the elbow of any of the guests +and regulate his or her actions. So long as a man behaves himself, +I can't refuse him liquor. But I'll call a doctor, since you order +it. You'll be wasting his time. It is a plain case of alcoholic +stupor. I've seen many cases like it." + +He summoned another "boy" and rumbled some Cantonese. Immediately +the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he +ran--warning to clear the way. + +"Have the aromatic spirits of ammonia sent to Mr. Taber's room at +once," Ruth ordered. "I will administer it." + +"You, Miss Enschede?"--frankly astonished that one stranger should +offer succour to another. + +"There is nobody else. Someone ought to be with him until the +doctor arrives. He may die." + +The manager made a negative sign. "Your worry is needless." + +"It wasn't the fumes of whisky that toppled him out of his chair. +It was his heart. I once saw a man die after collapsing that way." + +"You once saw a man die that way?" the manager echoed, his recent +puzzlement returning full tide. Hartford, Connecticut; she had +registered that address; but there was something so mystifyingly +Oriental about her that the address only thickened the haze behind +which she moved. "Where?" + +"That can wait," she answered. "Please hurry the ammonia;" and Ruth +turned away abruptly. + +Above she found the two Chinamen squatted at the side of the door. +They rose as she approached. She hastened past. She immediately +took the pillows from under the head of the man who had two names, +released the collar and tie, and arranged the arms alongside the +body. His heart was beating, but faintly and slowly, with ominous +intermissions. All alone; and nobody cared whether he lived or +died. + +She was now permitted freely to study the face. The comparisons +upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with +reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. +The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the +sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. For the face under +her gaze she could find but one expression--fine. The shape of the +head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, +the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had +never before looked upon closely. + +She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and +unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. Still, +something had marked the face, something had left an indelible +touch. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave +her this impression. What reassured her, however, more than +anything else, was the shape of the mouth: it was warmly turned. +The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it +becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him. It was not in +evidence here, not a sign of it. + +A drunken idea, Ah Cum had called it. And yet it was basically a +fine action. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! +For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of +custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the +idea. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly +perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial +barrier? A drunken idea--a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. +That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! + +Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, +numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first +utterance of the word. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love +made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if +it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they +thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about +what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by +any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this +young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his +lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be +this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have +been repellance? Sidney Carton. Was that it? Had she clothed this +unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? +She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really +actuated her. + +Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and +it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if +he found a woman at his bedside. More than this, it would serve to +mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with +his. + +She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, +cold forehead. A bad sign; it signified that the heart action was +in a precarious state. So far he had not stirred; from his +bloodless lips had come no sound. + +At length the manager arrived; and together he and Ruth succeeded +in getting some of the aromatic spirits of ammonia down the +patient's throat. But nothing followed to indicate that the liquid +had stimulated the heart. + +"You see?" Ruth said. + +The manager conceded that he saw, that his original diagnosis was +at fault. Superimposed was the agitating thought of what would +follow the death of this unwelcome guest: confusion, poking +authorities, British and American red tape. It would send business +elsewhere; and the hotel business in Canton was never so prosperous +that one could afford to lose a single guest. Clientčle was of the +most transitory character. + +And then, there would be the question of money. Would there be +enough in the young man's envelope to pay the doctor and the hotel +bill--and in the event of his death, enough to ship the body home? +So all things pointed to the happy circumstance of setting this +young fool upon his feet again, of seeing him hence upon his +journey. Good riddance to bad rubbish. + +An hour later the doctor arrived; and after a thorough examination, +he looked doubtful. + +"He is dying?" whispered Ruth. + +"Well, without immediate care he would have passed out. He's on the +ragged edge. It depends upon what he was before he began this +racket. Drink, and no sustaining food. But while there's life +there's hope. There isn't a nurse this side of Hong-Kong to be had. +I've only a Chinaman who is studying under me; but he's a good +sport and will help us out during the crisis. This chap's recovery +all depends upon the care he receives." + +Out of nowhere Ruth heard her voice saying: "I will see to that." + +"Your husband?" + +"No. I do not even know his name." + +The doctor sent her a sharp, quizzical glance. He could not quite +make her out; a new type. + +"Taber," said the manager; "Taber is the name." + +For some reason she did not then understand, Ruth did not offer the +information that Taber had another name. + +"This is very fine of you, Miss...." + +"Enschede." + +"Ah. Well, come back in half an hour. I'll send for Wu Fang. He +speaks English. Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. +The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back +from the brink. Run along now; but return in half an hour." + +The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with +alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. He smiled at Ruth as she turned +away from the bed, smiled with both his mouth and eyes; and she +knew that here would be a man of heart as well as of science. She +went out into the hall, where she met the Jedsons in their kimonos. + +"What has happened?" asked Sister Prudence. "We've heard coming and +going." + +"Mr. Taber is very ill." + +"Oh." Prudence shrugged. "Well, what can you expect, guzzling +poison like that? Are you returning with us to Hong-Kong in the +morning?" + +"No. I am going to help take care of him," said Ruth, quite +ordinarily, as though taking care of unknown derelicts was an +ordinary event in her life. + +"What?--help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss +Enschede!" was the protest. + +"Why can't I?" + +"You will be compromised. It isn't as if he were stricken with +typhoid or pneumonia or something like that. You will certainly be +compromised." + +"Compromised." Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a +query, but ruminantly. "Mutual concessions," she added. "I don't +quite understand the application." + +Sister Prudence looked at Sister Angelina, who understood what was +expected of her. Sister Angelina shook her head as if to say that +such ignorance was beyond her. + +"Why, it means that people will think evilly of you." + +"For a bit of kindness?" Ruth was plainly bewildered. + +"You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. "I never +saw the like of you! One has to guard one's actions constantly in +this wicked world, if one is a woman, young and pretty. A woman +such as I am might help take care of Mr. Taber and no one comment +upon it. But you couldn't. Never in this world! Let the hotel +people take care of him; it's their affair. They sold him the +whisky. Come along with us in the morning. Your father...." + +Prudence felt the hands stiffen oddly; and again the thought came +to her that perhaps this poor child's father had once been, perhaps +still was, in the same category as this Taber. + +"It's a fine idea, my child, but you mustn't do it. Even if he were +an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it. But a total stranger, +a man you never saw twenty-four hours ago! It can't be thought of. +It isn't your duty." + +"I feel bewildered," said Ruth. "Is it wrong, then, to surrender to +good impulses?" + +"In the present instance, yes. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps +it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel +defensively. You don't want people to snub you later. This isn't +your island, child; it's the great world." + +"So I perceive," said Ruth, withdrawing her hands. "He is all +alone. Without care he will die." + +"But, goodness me, the hotel will take care of him! Why not? They +sold him the poison. Besides, I have my doubts that he is so very +sick. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over +again. You're alone, too, child. I'm trying to make you see the +worldly point of view, which always inclines toward the evil side +of things." + +"I have promised. After all, why should I care what strangers +think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. "Is there no charity? Isn't it +understood?" + +"Of course it is! In the present instance I can offer it and you +can't, or shouldn't. There are unwritten laws governing human +conduct. Who invented them? Nobody knows. But woe to those who +disregard them! Of course, basically it is all wrong; and sometimes +God must laugh at our ideas of rectitude. But to live at peace with +your neighbour...." + +Ruth brushed her eyes with one hand and with the other signed for +the spinster to stop. "No more, please! I am bewildered enough. I +understand nothing of what you say. I only know that it is right to +do what I do." + +"Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some +future heartaches. God bless you, anyhow!" she added, with a +spontaneity which surprised Sister Angelina into uttering an +individual gasp. "Good-bye!" + +For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered +bosom; but long since she had learned repression. She remained +stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut +them from view ... for ever. + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Corporation. The Ragged Edge._ +A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.] + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +Slowly Ruth entered her own room. She opened her suitcase--new and +smelling strongly of leather--and took out of it a book, dogeared +and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and +bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. Herein was the sum +of human knowledge in essence. + +In the beginning it was a dictionary. Words were given with their +original meaning, without their ramifications. If you were a poet +in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Or, if +you were about to embark upon a nautical career, here was all the +information required. It also told you how to write on all +occasions, how to take out a patent, how to doctor a horse, and who +Achates was. You could, if you were ambitious to round out your +education, memorize certain popular foreign phrases. + +But beyond "amicable agreement in which mutual concessions are +made," the word "compromise" was as blank as the Canton wall at +night. There were words, then, that ran on indefinitely, with +reversals? Here they meant one thing; there, the exact opposite. To +be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first +time she was made painfully conscious of it. Mutual concessions!--and +then to turn it around so that it suggested that an act of kindness +might be interpreted as moral obloquy! + +Walls; queer, invisible walls that receded whenever she reached +out, but that still remained between her and what she sought. The +wall of the sky, the wall of the horizon, the wall behind which +each human being hid--the wall behind which she herself was hiding! +If only her mother had lived, her darling mother! + +Presently the unhappy puzzlement left her face; and an inward glow +began to lighten it. The curtain before one mystery was torn aside, +and she saw in reality what lay behind the impulse that had led her +into the young man's room. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, +who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. +An inarticulate instinct which now found expression. Upon what this +instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its +insistence. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards +the rag baby for the living one. Spurlock was no longer a man +before this instinct; he was a child in trouble. + +Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. The visitor +was the hotel manager, who respectfully announced that the doctor +was ready for her. So Ruth took another step toward her +destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. + +"Will he live?" asked Ruth. + +"Thanks to you," said the doctor. "Without proper medical care, he +would have been dead by morning." He smiled at her as he smiled at +death, cheerfully. + +The doctor's smile is singular; there is no other smile that +reaches the same level. It is the immediate inspiration of +confidence; it alleviates pain, because we know by that smile that +pain is soon to leave us; it becomes the bulwark against our +depressive thoughts of death; and it is the promise that we still +have a long way to go before we reach the Great Terminal. + +In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it +the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to +happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of +annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of +entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty +affairs as usual? + +"It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through. +Probably his first serious bout with John Barleycorn. If he had +eaten food, this wouldn't have happened. It is not a dissipated +face." + +"No; it is only--what shall I say?--troubled. The ragged edge." + +"Yes. This is also the ragged edge of the world, too. It is the +bottom of the cup, where all the dregs appear to settle. But this +chap is good wine yet. We'll have him on his way before many days. +But ... he must want to live in order that the inclination to +repeat this incident may not recur. The manager tells me that you +are an American. So am I. For ten years I've been trying to go +home, but my conscience will not permit me, I hate the Orient. It +drives one mad at times. Superstition--you knock into it whichever +way you turn. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when +my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns +joss-sticks. I hate this part of the world." + +"So do I," replied Ruth. + +"You have lived over here?"--astonished. + +"I was born in the South Seas and I am on my way to America, to an +aunt." + +"Well, it's mighty fine of you to break your journey in this +fashion--for someone you don't know, a passer-by." + +He held out his dry hard hand into which she placed hers. The +manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had +interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. +"You will find her new." New? That did not describe her. Here, +indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into +contact--a natural woman. She would be extraordinarily interesting +as a metaphysical study. She would be surrendering to all her +impulses--particularly the good impulses--many of which society had +condemned long since because they entailed too much trouble. +Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience +for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on +his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as +Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the +ingratitude. To such characters, fine actions are in themselves +sufficient. + +Perhaps her odd beauty--and that too was natural--stirred these +thoughts into being. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite +the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of +blondes. It would be protective; it would with age turn to silver +unnoticeably. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. +In the artificial light her skin had the tint and lustre of a +yellow pearl. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. Not the +explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly +meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly. + +All this while he was arranging the medicines on the stand and +jotting down his instructions on a chart sheet. He had absorbed her +in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. After a +while he spoke again. + +"Our talking will not bother him. He will be some time in this +comatose state. Later, there will be fever, after I've got his +heart pumping. Now, he must have folks somewhere. I'm going through +his pockets. It's only right that his people should know where he +is and what has happened to him." + +But he searched in vain. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk +key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of +credit, not even a tailor's label. Immediately he grasped the fact +that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. +He folded the garments carefully and replaced them on the chair. + +"I'm afraid we'll have to dig into his trunk," he said. "There's +nothing in his clothes. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a +case to fiddle-faddle over. Will you stand by and watch me?" + +The contents of the trunk only thickened the fog. Here again the +clothes were minus the labels. All the linen was new and stamped +with the mark of Whiteaway, Laidlaw & Co., British merchants with +branches all over the East. At the bottom of the trunk was a large +manila envelope, unmarked. The doctor drew out the contents +hopefully. + +"By George!" he exclaimed. "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a +writer, or is trying to be. And will you look! His name neatly cut +out from each title page. This is clear over my head." + +"A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. And yet the secondary emotion +was one of suspicion. That a longing of hers should be realized in +this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested +something of a trap. + +"Or trying to be," answered the doctor. "Evidently he could not +destroy these children of his. No doubt they've all been rejected; +but he couldn't throw them overboard. I suspect he has a bit of +vanity. I'll tell you what. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you +can read them through. Somewhere you may stumble upon a clew to his +identity. To-morrow I'll wire Cook's and the American Express in +Hong-Kong to see if there is any mail. Taber is the name. What is +he--English or American?" + +"American. What is a Yale man?" + +"Did he say he was a Yale man?" + +"He and Ah Cum were talking...." + +"I see. Ah Cum is a Yale man and so is this Taber." + +"But what is it?" + +"An American university. Now, I'll be getting along. Give him his +medicine every half hour. Keep his arms down. I'll have my man Wu +over here as soon as I can get in touch with him. We'll get this +chap on his feet if only to learn what the trouble is." + +Downstairs he sought the hotel manager. + +"Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. + +"Hope to. The next few hours will tell. But it's an odd case. His +name is Taber?" + +"Howard Taber." + +"Confidentially, I'm assured that he has another." + +"What gives you that idea?" + +"Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in +his clothes--not a single clew to his real identity. And stony +broke." + +"Not quite," replied the manager. "He left an envelope with some +money in it. Perhaps I'd better open it now." The envelope +contained exactly five hundred dollars. "How long will he be laid +up?" + +"Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night." + +The manager began some computations. "There won't be much left for +you," he said. + +"That's usual. There never is much left for me. But I'm not +worrying about that. The thing is to get the patient on his feet. +He may have resources of which we know nothing," the doctor added +optimistically. + +"But, I say, that girl is a queer one." + +"I shouldn't call her queer. She's fine. She'll be mighty +interesting to watch." + +"For an old bachelor?" + +"A human old bachelor. Has she any funds?" + +"She must have. She's headed for America. Of course, I don't +believe she's what you would call flush. But I'll take care of her +bill, if worst comes to worst. Evidently her foresight has saved me +a funeral. I'll remember that. But "fine" is the word. How the +deuce, though, am I going to account for her? People will be asking +questions when they see her; and if I tell the truth, they'll start +to snubbing her. You understand what I mean. I don't want her hurt. +But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her." + +"I hadn't thought of that. It wouldn't do to say that she was from +the hospital. She's too pretty and unusual. Besides, I'm afraid her +simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn. When anybody is +natural, these days, we dub them queer. The contact is disturbing; +and we prefer going around the fact to facing it. Aren't we funny? +And just as I was beginning to lose faith in human beings, to have +someone like this come along! It is almost as if she were acting a +rôle, and she isn't. I'll talk to her in the morning, but she won't +understand what I'm driving at. Born on a South Sea island, she +said." + +"Ah! Now I can get a perspective. This is her first adventure. She +isn't used to cities." + +"But how in the Lord's name was she brought up? There's a queer +story back of this somewhere." + +The manager extended his hands at large, as if to deny any +responsibility in the affair. "Never heard of a sing-song girl; +never heard of a geisha! Flower of the Lotus: the sing-song girl +called her that." + +"The White Hollyhock would fit her better. There is something +sensual in the thought of lotus flowers. Hollyhocks make one think +of a bright June Sunday and the way to church!" + +"Do you suppose that young fool has done anything?" + +The doctor shrugged. "I don't know. I shouldn't care to express an +opinion. I ought to stay the night through; but I'm late now for an +operation at the hospital. Good night." + +He departed, musing. How plainly he could see the patch of garden +in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the +picket fence! + + * * * * * + +Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously. Her thoughts +were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. +Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only +for a little while. In all her life no living thing had had to +depend upon her, not even a dog or a cat. All other things were +without weight or consequence before the fact that this poor young +man would have to depend upon her for his life. The amazing tonic +of the thought! + +From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it +was still cold. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible +now. + +From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no +less interesting because he was unsuccessful. Stories ... love +stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It +was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. It filled her +with indefinable fear. Until now none of her prayers had ever been +answered. Why should God give particular attention to such a +prayer, when He had ignored all others? Certainly there was a trap +somewhere. + +So, while she watched, distressed and bewildered by her tumbling +thoughts, the packet, Canton bound, ruffled the placid waters of +the Pearl River. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his +narrow bunk. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at +the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of +a youth of eighteen. + +The man was thick set, with a bright roving eye. The blue jaws +suggested courage and tenacity. It was not a hard face, but it was +resolute. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came +into his eyes. + +Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in +the haystack would have been soft work. To stumble upon the trail +through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his +bottle had rendered him conspicuous. And now, only twenty-four +hours behind him ... that is, if he wasn't paddling by on the +return route to Hong-Kong or had dropped down to Macao. But that +possibility had been anticipated. He would have to return to +Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot +on the Praya. + +Pure luck! But for that bottle of whisky, nobody in the Hong-Kong +Hotel would have been able to identify the photograph; and at this +hour James Boyle O'Higgins would have been on the way to Yokohama, +and the trail lost for ever. + +Ho-hum! + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The Hong-Kong packet lay alongside the warehouse frontage. Ah Cum +patrolled the length of the boat innumerable times, but never +letting his glance stray far from the gangplank. This was +automatically rather than thoughtfully done; habit. His mind was +busy with a résumé of yesterday's unusual events. + +The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of +course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, +and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly. But +the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge--rather +profound--of human impulses. Somehow logic could not explain her. +Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was +nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be +able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? + +Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be +the more accurate application. Besides, he was a Yale man. He might +be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool. The Yale spirit! +Ah Cum smiled whimsically. After fifteen years, to find that +peculiarly Occidental attribute--college loyalty--still alive in +his heart! A Western idea that had survived; an idea that was +merely the flower of youthful enthusiasm! + +With his hands still in his sleeves, his chin down in speculation +over this phenomenon, he continued his patrol. + +"Hey, you!" + +Ah Cum stopped and turned. Framed in one of the square ports of the +packet was a face which reminded Ah Cum of a Japanese theatrical +mask. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the +other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. + +"Speak English?" boomed the voice. + +"Yes; I speak English." + +"Fine! I'll be wanting a guide. Where can I get one?" asked +O'Higgins. + +"I am one." + +"All right. I'll be with you in a jiffy." Quarter of an hour later +O'Higgins stepped off the gangplank. He carried a small bag. "This +your regular business?" + +"For the present. Will you be wanting me alone?" asked Ah Cum. "I +generally take a party." + +"What'll it cost to have you all to myself for the day?" + +Ah Cum named the sum. He smiled inwardly. Here was one of those +Americans who would make him breathless before sundown. The booming +voice and the energetic movements spoke plainly of hurry. + +"You're on," said O'Higgins. "Now, lead me to a hotel where I can +get breakfast. Wait a moment. I've got an address here." + +O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket--and purposely let the battered +photograph fall to the ground. He pretended to be unaware of the +mishap. Politely Ah Cum stooped and recovered the photograph. He +rose slowly and extended it. An ancient smile lay on his lips. + +"You dropped this, sir." + +"Oh. Thanks." O'Higgins, bitten with disappointment, returned the +photograph to his pocket. "Victoria; that's the hotel." + +"That's but a short distance from here, sir." + +"O'Higgins is the name." + +"Mr. O'Higgins. Let me take the satchel, sir." + +"It's light. I'll tote it myself. Say, ever see any one resembling +that photograph I dropped?" + +"So many come and go," said Ah Cum, shrugging. "Few stay more than +a day. And there are other guides." + +"Uh-huh. Well, let's beat it to the hotel. I'm hungry." + +"This way, sir." + +"What's your name?" + +Ah Cum got out his black-bordered card and offered it. + +"Aw Come. That sounds kind of funny," said O'Higgins. Smiling, the +Chinaman gave the correct pronunciation. "I see. Ah Coom. What's +the idea of the black border?" + +"My father recently died, sir." + +"But that style isn't Oriental." + +"I was educated in America." + +"Where?" + +"At Yale." + +"Well, well! This part of the world is jammed full of surprises. I +met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man." + +"Will you be taking a pole-chair?" + +"If that's the racket. I naturally want to do it up in proper +style." + +"Very well, sir. I'll be outside the hotel at nine-thirty." + +Ten minutes' walk brought them to the hotel. As O'Higgins signed +the hotel register, his keen glance took in the latest signatures. + +"Anywhere," he said in answer to the manager's query. "I'm not +particular about rooms. Where's the dining room? And, say, can I +have some eggs? This jam-tea breakfast gets my goat." + +"Come this way, Mr. O'Higgins," said the manager, amusedly. + +O'Higgins followed him into the dining room. That register would be +easy to get at; comforting thought. It did not matter in the least +what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle +O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. There was something fatalistic +about the letter H. The individual twist was always there, even in +the cleverest forgeries. + +The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had +the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. Always as +black and bitter as gall. Coffee ŕ la Turque wasn't so bad; but a +guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it. + +Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. After a +while one began to talk. + +"The manager says there is still some doubt. The change will come +to-day. Ah Cum had no business taking him into the city last night. +The young man did not know what he was doing or where he was." + +O'Higgins extracted a cigar from a pocket and inspected it. Henry +Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New +York. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles +from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. He +heard the woman talking again. + +"I feel guilty, going away and leaving that ignorant child; but our +days have been so planned that we dare not change the schedule. +Didn't understand me when I said she would be compromised! He won't +be able to leave his bed under four weeks; and she said she hadn't +much money. If she had once known him, if he were some former +neighbour, it would be comprehensible. But an individual she never +laid eyes on day before yesterday! And the minute he gets up, he'll +head for the public bar. There's something queer about that young +man; but we'll never be able to find out what it is. I don't +believe his name is Taber." + +O'Higgins tore free the scarlet band of his perfecto, the end of +which he bit off with strong white teeth, and smiled. You certainly +had to hand it to these Chinks. Picked up the photograph, looked at +it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear +as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the +race itself. He hadn't patrolled old Pell Street as a plain clothes +man without getting a glimmer of the ancient truth that East is +East and West is West. He would have some sport with Mr. Ah Cum +before the day was over, slyly baiting him. But what had young +Spurlock done for Ah Cum in the space of twenty-four hours that had +engaged Ah Cum's loyalty, not only engaged it but put it on guard? +For O'Higgins, receiving light from the next table, had no doubt +regarding the identity of the subject of this old maid's +observations. + +A queer game this: he could not move directly as in an ordinary +case of man-hunt. He had certain orders from which on no account +was he to deviate. But this made the chase all the more exciting. +What was the matter with Spurlock that was to keep him in bed three +or four weeks? He would dig that out of the hotel manager. Anyhow, +there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry +would be for the next three weeks. + +There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed. Well, this was +the side of the world where things like that happened. The boy +would naturally attract the women, if the women were at all +romantic. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew +sentimental females. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as +thick as flies over here--dizzy blondes. That is, if Spurlock had +been throwing money about, which was more than likely. + +"As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence +declared. + +"Out of a family album, you said," Angelina reminded her sister. + +O'Higgins struck a match and lit his Henry Clay, thereby drawing +upon himself the mutual disapproval of the spinsters. + +"Beg pardon," he said, "but isn't smoking allowed in the dining +room?" + +"It probably is," answered Prudence, "but that in no wise mitigates +the odiousness of the procedure." + +"Plumb in the eye!" said O'Higgins, rising. "I'll tote the +odiousness outside." + +He was delighted to find the office deserted. He inspected the +formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the +register. Howard Taber. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow +letter. Quickly he compared the Hs. They were so nearly alike that +the difference would be due to a shaky hand. But for perfect +satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom. Humph. A crisis +of some kind was toward. It might be that the boy had taken one +drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops. The +Oriental waterfronts were rank with the stuff. + +But that Chink, Ah Cum! O'Higgins chuckled as he passed into the +hall and rested his hand on the newel-post of the staircase. He'd +have some fun with that Chinaman before the morning was out. + +O'Higgins mounted the stairs, his step extraordinarily light for +one so heavy. In the upper hall he paused to listen. There was +absolute quiet. Boldly he turned the knob of a certain door and +entered. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became +genuine. + +The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an +oblong block of mote-swimming light. In the midst of this light +stood a young woman. To O'Higgins--for all his sordid business he +was not insensible to beauty--to O'Higgins she appeared to have +entered the room with the light. Above her head was an aura of +white fire. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance +striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in +European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of +the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find. He +recognized the face instantly. + +There came to O'Higgins the discouraging knowledge that upon the +heels of a wonderful chase--blindman's buff in the dark--would come +a stretch of dull inaction. He would have to sit down here in +Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. Certainly he could not move now +other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. + +"I beg pardon," he said. "Got the rooms mixed." + +The young woman laid a finger on her lips, cautioning O'Higgins to +silence. The detective backed out slowly and closed the door +without sound. + +Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth +blue chin. As he understood it, folks saw in two or three days all +there was to see of Canton. After the sights he would have to +twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked. All at once he saw a +way out of the threatening doldrums. Some trustworthy Chinaman to +watch, for a small bribe, while he, James Boyle O'Higgins, enjoyed +himself in Hong-Kong, seeing the spring races, the boxing matches, +and hobnobbing with Yankee sailors. Canton was something like a +blind alley; unless you were native, you couldn't get anywhere +except by returning to Hong-Kong and starting afresh. + +Satisfied that he had solved his difficulty, he proceeded to his +room. At nine-thirty he climbed into the chair and signified to Ah +Cum that he was ready. + +"You speak English better than I do," said O'Higgins, as the +coolies jogged across the bridge toward the gate. "Where did you +pick it up?" + +"I believe I told you; at Yale." + +O'Higgins laughed. "I'd forgotten. But that explains everything." + +"Everything." It was not uttered interrogatively; rather as though +Ah Cum did not like the significance of the word and was turning it +over and about in speculation. + +"Ye-ah," said O'Higgins, jovially. "Why you pretended not to +recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these +diggings all day yesterday." + +Many wrinkles appeared at the corners of Ah Cum's slant eyes--as if +the sun hurt--but the rest of his face remained as passive as a +graven Buddha's. + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Ah Cum was himself puzzled. Why hadn't he admitted that he +recognized the photograph? What instinct had impelled him swiftly +to assume his Oriental mask? + +"Why?" asked O'Higgins. "What's the particular dope?" + +"If I told you, you would laugh," answered Ah Cum, gravely. + +"No; I don't think I'd laugh. You never saw him before yesterday. +Why should you want to shield him?" + +"I really don't know." + +"Because he said he was a Yale man?" + +"That might be it." + +"Treated you like a white man there, did they?" + +"Like a gentleman." + +"All right. I had that coming. I didn't think. But, holy smoke!--the +Yale spirit in...." + +"A Chinaman. I wonder. I spent many happy days there. Perhaps it +was the recollection of those happy days. You are a detective?" + +"Yes. I have come thirteen thousand miles for this young fellow; +I'm ready to go galloping thirteen thousand more." + +"You have extradition papers?" + +"What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. + +"Then his case is hopeless." + +"Absolutely." + +"I'm sorry. He does not look the criminal." + +"That's the way it goes. You never can tell." There was a pause. +"They tell me over here that the average Chinaman is honest." + +Ah Cum shrugged. "Yes?" + +"And that when they give their word, they never break it." +O'Higgins had an idea in regard to Ah Cum. + +"Your tone suggests something marvellous in the fact," replied Ah +Cum, ironically. "Why shouldn't a Chinaman be honest? Ah, yes; I +know. Most of you Americans pattern all Chinese upon those who fill +a little corner in New York. In fiction you make the Chinese +secretive, criminal, and terrible--or comic. I am an educated +Chinese, and I resent the imputations against my race. You +Americans laugh at our custom of honouring our ancestors, our +many-times great grandfathers. On the other hand, you seldom revere +your immediate grandfather, unless he has promised to leave you some +money." + +"Bull's eye!" piped O'Higgins. + +"Of course, there is a criminal element, but the percentage is no +larger than that in America or Europe. Why don't you try to find +out how the every-day Chinese lives, how he treats his family, what +his normal habits are, his hopes, his ambitions? Why don't you come +to China as I went to America--with an open mind?" + +"You're on," said O'Higgins, briskly. "I'll engage you for four +days. To-day is for the sights; the other three days--lessons. +How's that strike you?" + +"Very well, sir. At least I can give you a glimmer." A smile broke +the set of Ah Cum's lips. "I'll take you into a Chinese home. We +are very poor, but manage to squeeze a little happiness out of each +day." + +"And I promise that all you tell me and show me will sink in," +replied O'Higgins, frankly interested. "I'm a detective; my ears +and eyes have been trained to absorb all I see and all I hear. When +I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it +away. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids +talking about you and the young man." + +"What has he done?" + +"What did he have to drink over here last night?" + +"Not even water. No doubt he has been drinking for days without +eating substantially, and his heart gave out." + +"What happened?" + +Ah Cum recounted the story of the sing-song girl. "I had to give in +to him. You know how stubborn they get." + +"Surest thing you know. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and +all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. But the +Yale spirit!" + +Ah Cum laughed. + +"I've got a proposition to make," said O'Higgins. + +"So long as it is open and above board." + +"It's that, but it interferes with the college spirit stuff. Would +a hundred dollars interest you?" + +"Very much, if I can earn it without offending my conscience." + +"It won't. Here goes. I've come all these miles for this young +fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks +in this burg. I've an idea it'll be that long before the chap gets +up. My proposition is for you to keep an eye on him, and the moment +he puts on his clothes to send me a telegram, care of the Hong-Kong +Hotel. Understand me. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. For all +you might know, I might have someone watching you. This time he +couldn't get far. He will have to return to Hong-Kong." + +"Not necessarily. There is a railroad." + +"He won't be taking that. The only safe place for him is at sea; +and if he had kept to the sea, I shouldn't have found him so +easily. Well, what about it?" + +"I accept." + +"As an honest Chinaman?"--taking out the offensiveness of the query +by smiling. + +"As an honest Chinaman." + +O'Higgins produced his wallet. "Fifty now and fifty when I return." + +"Agreed. Here are the jade carvers. Would you like to see them at +work?" + +"Lead on, Macduff!" + +Ah Cum raised the skirt of his fluttering blue silk robe and stored +the bill away in a trouser wallet. It was the beginning and the end +of the transaction. When he finally telegraphed his startling +information to Hong-Kong, it was too late for O'Higgins to act. The +quarry had passed out into the open sea. + + * * * * * + +From the comatose state, Spurlock passed into that of the babbling +fever; but that guarding instinct which is called subconsciousness +held a stout leash on his secret. He uttered one word over and +over, monotonously: + +"Fool! ... Fool!" + +But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head +would cease to roll from side to side. He hung precariously on the +ragged edge, but he hung there. Three times he uttered a phrase: + +"A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" + +And each time he would follow it with a chuckle--the chuckle of a +soul in damnation. + +Neither the American Express nor Cook's had received mail for +Howard Taber; he was not on either list. This was irregular. A man +might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without +friends, that is to say, without letters. The affair was thick with +sinister suggestions. And yet, the doctor recalled an expression of +the girl's: that it was not a dissipated face, only troubled. + +The whole affair interested him deeply. That was one of the +compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the +world. Over here, there was generally some unusual twist to a case. +He would pull this young fellow back; but later he knew that he +would have to fight the boy's lack of will to live. When he +recovered his mental faculties, he would lie there, neutral; they +could save him or let him die, as they pleased; and the doctor knew +that he would wear himself out forcing his own will to live into +this neutrality. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. + +To fight inertia on the one hand and to study this queer girl on +the other. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the +promise of this psychological treat. The girl was like some +north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of +sunlight--beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured +elsewhere. She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere +the sleeping tigress. The elemental woman was always close to the +cat: as the elemental man was always but a point removed from the +wolf. + +It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and +remained until noon. The afternoon was her own; but from eight +until midnight she sat beside the patient. At no time did she feel +bodily or mental fatigue. Frequently she would doze in her chair; +but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. + +At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw +smiled across his table at her. She recognized him as the man who +had blundered into the wrong room. + +"How is the patient?" he asked. + +"He will live," answered Ruth. + +"That's fine," said O'Higgins. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any +day now." + +"No. It will take at least three weeks." + +"Well, so long as he gets on his feet in the end. You're a friend +of the young man?" + +"If you mean did I know him before he became ill, no." + +"Ah." O'Higgins revolved this information about, but no angle +emitted light. Basically a kindly man but made cynical and derisive +by sordid contacts, O'Higgins had almost forgotten that there was +such a thing as unselfishness. The man or woman who did something +for nothing always excited his suspicions; they were playing some +kind of a game. "You mean you were just sorry for him?" + +"As I would be for any human being in pain." + +"Uh-huh." For the life of him, O'Higgins could not think of +anything else to say. Just because she was sorry for that young +fool! "Uh-huh," he repeated, rising and bowing as he passed Ruth's +table. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a +riddle, and four-square besides. Back in the States young women did +not offer to play the Good Samaritan to strange young fools whom +Jawn D. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: +unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. Maybe the girl +was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. + +The situation bothered him considerably. Things happened frequently +over here that wouldn't happen in the States once in a hundred +years. Who could say that the two weren't in collusion? When a chap +like Spurlock jumped the traces, _cherchez la femme_, every time. +He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there +in little old New York.... + +"Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he +stepped out into the sunshine. "My old coco is disintegrating. I've +bumped into so much of the underside that I can't see clean any +more. No girl with a face like that.... And yet, dang it! I've seen +'em just as innocent looking that were prime vipers. Let's get to +Hong-Kong, James, and hit the high spots while there is time." + +He signalled to Ah Cum; and the two of them crossed on foot into +the city. + +It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant +vigil was broken. The patient fell into a natural and refreshing +sleep. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. She +tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she +carried to a chair by the window. Since the discovery of them, she +had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. Treasure +caves to explore! + +All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what +this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had +not already said. That was the true marvel of it. No matter how +many books one read, each was different, as each human being was +different. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the +sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands--one saw +the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. Ruth, +without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that +each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and +intelligence. + +Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but +where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. She was +acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the +process of analysis. + +There were seven tales in all--short stories--a method of +expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of +Dickens and Hugo. When she had finished the first tale, there was a +sense of disappointment. She had expected a love story; and love +was totally absent. It was a tale of battle, murder, and sudden +death on the New York waterfront. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's +term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. + +From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or +a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her +rushing on for something that never happened. Each manuscript was +like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. +Abruptly would come the end. It was as if she had come upon the +beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, +and behind the door--nothing. + +She did not realize that she was offering criticisms. The word +"criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than +"compromise." Some innate sense of balance told her that something +was wrong with these tales. She could not explain in words why they +disappointed her or that she was disappointed. + +Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation. At +the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she +was; which was something in their favour. + +"My coat!" + +Ruth did not move but stared astonishedly at the patient. + +"My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Corporation. The Ragged Edge._ +A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.] + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +The second call energized her into action. She dropped the +manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a +button hung loose. Later, she would sew it on. + +"What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. + +"Fold it ... under the pillow." + +This she did carefully, but inwardly commenting that he was still +in the realm of strange fancies. Wanting his coat, when he must +have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had +cost him something. The performance over, he relaxed and closed his +eyes. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on +his forehead and under the nether lip. She wet some absorbent +cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. This done, she +waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was +conscious of her nearness. + +The poor boy, wanting his empty coat! The incident, however, caused +her to review the recent events. It was now evident that he had not +been normal that first day. Perhaps he had had money in the coat, +back in Hong-Kong, and had been robbed without knowing it. Perhaps +these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered +in days. His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing +the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on +returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of +credit. How would he act when he learned that it had vanished? + +She gathered up the manuscripts and restored them to the envelope. +This she put into the trunk. She noticed that this trunk was not +littered with hotel labels. These little squares of coloured paper +interested her mightily--hotel labels. She was for ever scanning +luggage and finding her way about the world, via these miniature +pictures. London, Paris, Rome! There were no hotel labels on the +patient's trunk, but there were ship labels; and by these she was +able to reconstruct the journey: from New York to Naples, thence to +Alexandria; from Port Saďd to Colombo; from Colombo to Bombay; from +Calcutta to Rangoon, thence down to Singapore; from Singapore to +Hong-Kong. The great world outside! + +She stood motionless beside the trunk, deep in speculation; and +thus the doctor found her. + +"Well?" he whispered. + +"I believe he is conscious," she answered. "He just asked for his +coat, which he wanted under his pillow." + +"Conscious; well, that's good news. He'll be able to help us a +little now. I hope that some day he'll understand how much he owes +you." + +"Oh, that!" she said, with a deprecating gesture. + +"Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" + +"A brick?" + +He chuckled. "I forgot. That's slang, meaning you're splendid." + +"I begin to see that I shall have to learn English all over again." + +"You have always spoken it?" + +"Yes; except for some native. I wasn't taught that; I simply fell +into it from contact." + +"I see. So he's come around, then? That's fine." + +He approached the bed and laid his palm on the patient's forehead, +and nodded. Then he took the pulse. + +"He will pull through?" + +"Positively. But the big job for you is yet to come. When he begins +to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, +keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes." + +"Then he has been unfortunate?" + +"That's patent enough. He's had a hard knock somewhere; and until +he is strong enough to walk, we must keep his interest away from +that thought. After that, we'll go our several ways." + +"What makes you think he has had a hard knock?" + +"I'm a doctor, young lady." + +"You're fine, too. I doubt if you will receive anything for your +trouble." + +"Oh, yes I will. The satisfaction of cheating Death again. You've +been a great help these five days; for he had to have attendance +constantly, and neither Wu nor I could have given that. And yet, +when you offered to help, it was what is to come that I had in +mind." + +"To make him forget the knock?" + +"Precisely. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear +understanding. Can you afford to give this time? There are your own +affairs to think of." + +"There's no hurry." + +"And money?" + +"I'll have plenty, if I'm careful." + +"It has done me a whole lot of good to meet you. Over here a man +quickly loses faith, and I find myself back on solid ground once +more. Is there anything you'd like?" + +"Books." + +"What kind?" + +"Dickens, Hugo." + +"I'll bring you an armful this afternoon. I've a lot of old +magazines, too. There are a thousand questions I'd like to ask you, +but I sha'n't ask them." + +"Ask them, all of them, and I will gladly answer. I mystify you; I +can see that. Well, whenever you say, I promise to do away with the +mystery." + +"All right. I'll call for you this afternoon when Wu is on. I'll +show you the Sha-mien; and we can talk all we want." + +"I was never going to tell anybody," she added. "But you are a good +man, and you'll understand. I believed I was strong enough to go on +in silence; but I'm human like everybody else. To tell someone who +is kind and who will understand!" + +"There, there!" he said. There was a hint of tears in her voice. +"That's all right. We'll get together this afternoon; and you can +pretend that I am your father." + +"No! I have run away from my father. I shall never go back to him; +never, never!" + +Distressed, embarrassed beyond measure by this unexpected tragic +revelation, the doctor puttered about among the bottles on the +stand. + +"We're forgetting," he said. "We mustn't disturb the patient. I'll +call for you after lunch." + +"I'm sorry." + +She began to prepare the room for Wu's coming, while the doctor +went downstairs. As he was leaving the hotel, Ah Cum stepped up to +his side. + +"How is Mr. Taber?" + +"Regained consciousness this morning." + +Ah Cum nodded. "That is good." + +"You are interested?" + +"In a way, naturally. We are both graduates of Yale." + +"Ah! Did he tell you anything about himself?" + +"Aside from that, no. When will he be up?" + +"That depends. Perhaps in two or three weeks. Did he talk a little +when you took him into the city?" + +"No. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to +draw him out. He spoke only when he saw the sing-song girl he +wanted to buy." + +"Why didn't you head him off, explain that it couldn't be done by a +white man?" + +Ah Cum shrugged. "You are a physician; you know the vagaries of men +in liquor. He was a stranger. I did not know how he would act if I +obstructed him." + +"We found all his pockets empty." + +"Then they were empty when he left," replied Ah Cum, with dignity. + +"I was only commenting. Did he act to you that day as if he knew +what he was doing?" + +"Not all of the time." + +"A queer case;" and the doctor passed on. + +Ah Cum made a movement as though to follow, but reconsidered. The +word of a Chinaman; he had given it, so he must abide. There was +now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. Of +course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, +based as it was upon an intangible university idea. And yet, +mulling it over, he began to understand why the white man was so +powerful in the world: he was taught loyalty and fair play in his +schools, and he carried this spirit the world which his forebears +had conquered. + +Suddenly Ah Cum laughed aloud. He, a Chinaman, troubling himself +over Occidental ideas! With his hands in his sleeves, he proceeded +on his way. + + * * * * * + +Ruth and the doctor returned to the hotel at four. Both carried +packages of books and magazines. There was an air of repressed +gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart +was empty again. The burden of decision had been transferred. + +And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the +doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. He knew not +how to act, urged as he was in two directions. It would be useless +to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise +her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or +alive. He was also aware that all his arguments would shatter +themselves against her resolutions. There was a strange quality of +steel in this pretty creature. He understood now that it was a part +of her inheritance. The father would be all steel. One point in her +narrative stood out beyond all others. To an unthinking mind the +episode would be ordinary, trivial; but to the doctor, who had had +plenty of time to think during his sojourn in China, it was basic +of the child's unhappiness. A dozen words, and he saw Enschede as +clearly as though he stood hard by in the flesh. + +To preach a fine sermon every Sunday so that he would lose neither +the art nor the impulse; and this child, in secret rebellion, +taking it down in long hand during odd hours in the week! Preaching +grandiloquently before a few score natives who understood little +beyond the gestures, for the single purpose of warding off +disintegration! It reminded the doctor of a stubborn retreat; from +barricade to barricade, grimly fighting to keep the enemy at bay, +that insidious enemy of the white man in the South Seas--inertia. + +The drunken beachcombers; the one-sided education; the utter +loneliness of a white child without playfellows, human or animal, +without fairy stories, who for days was left alone while the father +visited neighbouring islands, these pictures sank far below their +actual importance. He would always see the picture of the huge, +raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into +the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be +carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. + +He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: +habit, a twice-told tale. A beachcomber in embryo, and she had lent +a hand through habit as much as through pity. The grim mockery of +it!--those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's +Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and +medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name +a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. And +this clear-visioned child had comprehended that only half the +rogues were really ill. But Enschede took them as they came, +without question. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the +Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. + +This started a thought moving. There must be something behind the +missioner's actions, something of which the girl knew nothing nor +suspected. It would not be possible otherwise to live in daily +contact with this level-eyed, lovely girl without loving her. +Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these +years in the lonely citadel of his heart. Teaching the word of God +to the recent cannibal, caring for the sick, storming the +strongholds of the plague, adding his own private income to the +pittance allowed him by the Society, and never seeing the angel +that walked at his side! Something the girl knew nothing about; +else Enschede was unbelievable. + +It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her +story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and +yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had +fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. And through it all, +like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of +the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. + +"Well," she said, as they reached the hotel portal, "what is your +advice?" + +"Would you follow it?" + +"Probably not. Still, I am curious." + +"I do not say that what you have done is wrong in any sense. I do +not blame you for the act. There are human limitations, and no +doubt you reached yours. For all that, it is folly. If you knew +your aunt were alive, if she expected you, that would be different. +But to plunge blindly into the unknown!" + +"I had to! I had to!" + +She had told him only the first part of her story. She wondered if +the second part would overcome his objections? Several times the +words had rushed to her tongue, to find her tongue paralysed. To a +woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, +it was unthinkable. How could she tell him of the evil that drew +her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?--the fascinating evil +that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in +her mind? + +"Yes, yes!" said the doctor. "But if you do not find this aunt, +what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against +hunger?" + +"I'll find something." + +"But warn the aunt, prepare her, if she lives." + +"And have her warn my father! No. If I surprised her, if I saw her +alone, I might make her understand." + +He shook his head. "There's only one way out of the muddle, that I +can see." + +"And what is that?" + +"I have relatives not far from Hartford. I may prevail upon them to +take you in until you are full-fledged, providing you do not find +this aunt. You say you have twenty-four hundred in your letter of +credit. It will not cost you more than six hundred to reach your +destination. The pearls were really yours?" + +"They were left to me by my mother. I sometimes laid away my +father's clothes in his trunk. I saw the metal box a hundred times, +but I never thought of opening it until the day I fled. I never +even burrowed down into the trunk. I had no curiosity of that kind. +I wanted something _alive_." She paused. + +"Go on." + +"Well, suddenly I knew that I must see the inside of that box, +which had a padlock. I wrenched this off, and in an envelope +addressed to me in faded ink, I found the locket and the pearls. It +is queer how ideas pop into one's head. Instantly I knew that I was +going to run away that night before he returned from the +neighbouring island. At the bottom of the trunk I found two of my +mother's dresses. I packed them with the other few things I owned. +Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at +once what he judged a fair price. You will wonder why he did not +hold the pearls until Father returned. I didn't understand then, +but I do now. It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father." + +"And partly what else?" + +"I shall never tell anybody that." + +"I don't know," said the doctor, dubiously. "You're only twenty--not +legally of age." + +"I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. + +"Very well. I'll cable to-night, and in a few days we'll have some +news. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain +privileges. Sometimes I am frightfully busy; and then there will be +periods of dullness. I have a few regular patients, and I take care +of them in the morning. Every afternoon, from now on, I will teach +you a little about life--I mean the worldly points of view you're +likely to meet. You are queerly educated; and it strikes me that +your father had some definite purpose in thus educating you. I'll +try to fill in the gaps." + +The girl's eyes filled. "I wonder if you will understand what this +kindness means to me? I am so terribly wise--and so wofully +ignorant!" + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +The doctor shifted his books and magazines to the crook of his +elbow. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office. +Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. +Looking at this girl, a sense of failure swept over him. He had not +been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, +the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never +materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. + +And yet he knew that his skill was equal to that of any fashionable +practitioner in Hong-Kong. He wasn't quite hard enough to win +worldly success; that was his fault. Anybody in pain had only to +call to him. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in +China, having missed all the thrills in life except one--the war +against Death. It rather astonished him. He hadn't followed this +angle of thought in ten years: what he might have been, with a +little shrewd selfishness. This extraordinary child had opened up +an old channel through which it was no longer safe to cruise. She +was like an angel with one wing. The simile started a laugh in his +throat. + +"Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. + +"At a thought. Of you--an angel with one wing." + +"Meaning that I don't belong anywhere, in heaven or on earth?" + +"Meaning that you must cut off the wing or grow another to mate it. +Let's go up and see how the patient is doing. Wu may have news for +us. We'll get those books into your room first. And I'll have +supper with you." + +"If only...." But she did not complete the thought aloud. If only +this man had been her father! The world would have meant nothing; +the island would have been wide enough. + +"You were saying--?" + +"I started to say something; that is all." + +"By the way, did you read those stories?" + +"Yes." + +"Worth anything?" + +"I don't know." + +"Silly love stories?" + +"No; love wasn't the theme. Supposing you take them and read them? +You might be able to tell me why I felt disappointed." + +"All right. I'll take them back with me. Probably he has something +to say and can't say it, or he writes well about nothing." + +"Do you believe his failure caused...." + +"What?" he barked. But he did not follow on with the thought. There +was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there +were grounds for it. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, +lamely. "These writer chaps are queer birds." + +"Queer birds." + +He laughed and followed her into the hotel. "More slang," he said. +"I'll have to set you right on that, too." + +"I have heard sailors use words like that, but I never knew what +they meant." + +Sailors, he thought; and most of them the dregs of the South Seas, +casting their evil glances at this exquisite creature and trying to +smirch with innuendo the crystal clearness of her mind. Perhaps +there were experiences she would never confide to any man. Sudden +indignation boiled up in him. The father was a madman. It did not +matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. He +hadn't played fair. + +"Remember; we must keep the young fellow's thoughts away from +himself. Tell him about the island, the coconut dance, the wooden +tom-toms; read to him." + +"What made him buy that sing-song girl?" Regarding this, Ruth had +ideas of her own, but she wanted the doctor's point of view. + +"Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine +action might give him a hand-hold on life again. You tell me he +didn't like the stuff." + +"He shuddered when he drank." + +"Well, that's a hopeful sign. I'll test him out later; see if there +is any craving. Give me the books. I'll put them in your room; then +we'll have a look-see." + +The patient was asleep. According to Wu, the young man had not +opened his eyes once during the afternoon. + +So Ruth returned to her room and sorted the books and magazines the +doctor had loaned her, inspected the titles and searched for +pictures. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's +verse--her first adventure into poetry. The hymnal lyrics had never +stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrot-wise. But here +was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to +and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. Anything that +had love in it! + +The doctor comprehended that he also had his work cut out. While +the girl kept the patient from dwelling upon his misfortunes, +whatever these were, he himself would have to keep the girl from +brooding over hers. So he made merry at the dinner table, told +comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she +grasped the comic side of life. His curiosity put itself into a +question. + +"Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me _Tit-Bits_. +He would read the jokes and illustrate them; and after a +time I could see the point of a joke without having it explained to +me. I believe it amused him. I was a novelty. He was always in a +state of semi-intoxication, but he was always gentle with me. +Probably he taught me what a joke was merely to irritate my father; +for suddenly Father stopped my going to the store for things and +sent our old Kanaka cook instead. She had been to San Francisco, +and what I learned about the world was from her. Thank you for the +books." + +"You were born on the island?" + +"I believe so." + +"You don't remember your mother?" + +"Oh, no; she died when I was very little." + +She showed him the locket; and he studied the face. It was equally +as beautiful but not quite so fine as the daughter's. He returned +the locket without comment. + +"Perhaps things would have been different if she had lived." + +"No doubt," he replied. "Mine died while I was over here. Perhaps +that is why I lost my ambition." + +"I am sorry." + +"It is life." + +There was a pause. "He never let me keep a dog or a cat about the +house. But after a time I learned the ways of the parrakeets, and +they would come down to me like doves in the stories. I never made +any effort to touch them; so by and by they learned to light +fearlessly on my arms and shoulders. And what a noise they made! +This is how I used to call them." + +She pursed her lips and uttered a whistle, piercingly shrill and +high; and instantly she became the object of intense astonishment +on the part of the other diners. She was quite oblivious to the +sensation she had created. + +The picture of her flashed across the doctor's vision magically. +The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and +swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. + +"I never told anybody," she went on. "An audience might have +frightened the birds. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer +my whistle on cloudy days." + +"Didn't the natives have a name for you?" + +She blushed. "It was silly." + +"Go on, tell me," he urged, enchanted. Never was there another girl +like this one. He blushed, too, spiritually, as it were. He had +invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. +They were exquisite. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by +travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the +fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal +warfare against indifference and slovenliness. Only the strong +survived. This queer father of hers had given her everything but +his arms. "Tell me, what did they call you?" + +"Well, the old Kanaka cook used to call me the Golden One, but the +natives called me the Dawn Pearl." + +"The Dawn Pearl! Odd, but we white folks aren't half so poetical as +the yellow or the black. What did you do when your father went on +trips to other islands?" + +"Took off my shoes and stockings and played in the lagoon." + +"He made you wear shoes and stockings?" + +"Always." + +"What else did you do when alone?" + +"I read the encyclopaedia. That is how I learned that there were +such things as novels. Books! Aren't they wonderful?" + +The blind alley of life stretching out before her, with its secret +doorways and hidden menaces; and she was unconcerned. Books; an +inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. Somewhere in the world there +was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the +best he had. He envied her a little. To fall upon those tales for +the first time, when the mind was fresh and the heart was young! + +He became aware of an odd phase to this conversation. The +continuity was frequently broken in upon by diversory suppositions. +Take the one that struck him at this moment. Supposing that was it; +at least, a solution to part of this amazing riddle? Supposing her +father had made her assist him in the care of the derelicts solely +to fill her with loathing and abhorrence for mankind? + +"Didn't you despise the men your father brought home--the +beachcombers?" + +"No. In the beginning was afraid; but after the first several +cases, I had only pity. I somehow understood." + +"Didn't some of them ... try to touch you?" + +"Not the true unfortunates. How men suffer for the foolish things +they do!" + +"Ay to that. There's our young friend upstairs." + +"There's a funny idea in my head. I've been thinking about it ever +since morning. There was a loose button on that coat, and I want to +sew it on. It keeps dangling in front of my eyes." + +"Ah, yes; that coat. Probably a sick man's whim. Certainly, there +wasn't a thing in the pockets. But be very careful not to let him +know. If he awoke and caught you at it, there might be a set-back. +By the way, what did he say when he was out of his head?" + +"The word 'Fool.' He muttered it continually. There was another +phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. I +wonder what he meant by that?" + +"The Lord knows!" + +The patient was restless during the first watch of the night. He +stirred continually, thrusting his legs about and flinging his arms +above his head. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. There was +a recurrence of fever, but nothing alarming. Once she heard him +mutter, and she leaned down. + +"Ali Baba, in a blue-serge coat!... God-forsaken fool!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +One day Ruth caught the patient's eyes following her about; but +there was no question in the gaze, no interest; so she pretended +not to notice. + +"Where am I?" asked Spurlock. + +"In Canton." + +"How long have I been in bed?" + +"A week." + +"My coat, please." + +"It is folded under your pillow." + +"Did I ask for it?" + +"Yes. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets. +You were probably robbed in Hong-Kong." + +"Nothing in the pockets." + +"You see, we didn't know but you might die; and so we had to search +your belongings for the address of your people." + +"I have no people--anybody who would care." + +She kindled with sympathy. He was all alone, too. Nobody who cared. + +Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in +pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering +impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. She was +emerging from the primordial as Spurlock was declining toward it. +She was on the rim of civilization, entering, as Spurlock was on +the rim, preparing to make his exit. Two souls in travail; one +inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. Both of them +would be committing novel and unforgettable acts. + +"How long shall I be here?" he asked. + +"That depends upon you. Not very long, if you want to get well." + +"Are you a nurse?" + +"Yes. Don't ask any more questions. Wait a little; rest." + +There was a pause. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he +took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the +sunshine touched her hair. + +"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" + +"The first day you came. Don't you remember? There were four of us, +and we went touring in the city." + +"As in a dream." There was another pause. "Was I out of my head?" + +"Yes." + +"What did I say?" + +"Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. + +"What was it?" He was insistent. + +"You repeated the word '_Fool_' over and over." + +"Nothing else?" + +"No. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the +room." + +"I promise to ask no more." + +"Would you like to have me read to you?" + +He did not answer. So she took up Stevenson and began to read +aloud. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem +signified nothing. She went from period to period exactly as she +would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally +balanced. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because +Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. But he was wide awake. + +"What poet was that?" + +"Stevenson." Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden +of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. Of +course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were +lyrics known the world over. + +Immediately Spurlock began to chant one of these. + + "'Under the wide and starry sky, + Dig the grave and let me lie. + Glad did I live and gladly die, + And I laid me down with a will.'" + + "'This be the verse you grave for me: + Here he lies where he longed to be; + Home is the sailor, home from the sea. + And the hunter home from the hill.'" + +"What is that?" she asked. Something in his tone pinched her heart. +"Did you write it?" + +"No. You will find it somewhere in that book. Ah, if I had written +that!" + +"Don't you want to live?" + +"I don't know; I really don't know." + +"But you are young!" It was a protest, almost vehement. She +remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin +when the patient recovered consciousness. "You have all the world +before you." + +"Rather behind me;" and he spoke no more that morning. + +Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first +lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would +break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down +to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. Recurrently she +heard: "I don't know; I really don't know." It was curiously like +the intermittent murmur of the surf, those weird Sundays, when her +father paused for breath to launch additional damnation for those +who disobeyed the Word. "I don't know; I really don't know." + +Her ear caught much of the lesson, and many things she stored away; +but often what she heard was sound without sense. Still, her face +never betrayed this distraction. And what was singular she did not +recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. Why? If she had put +the query to herself, she could not have answered it. It was in no +sense confessional; it was a state of mind in the patient the +doctor had already anticipated. Yet she held her tongue. + +As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would +have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it. There was scant +social life on the Sha-mien aside from masculine foregatherings, +little that interested him. He took his social pleasures once a +year in Hong-Kong, after Easter. He saw, without any particular +regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but +there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer +youngsters. Besides, by the time they were off his hands, old +McClintock would be dropping in to have his liver renovated. + +All at once he recollected the fact that McClintock's copra +plantation was down that way, somewhere in the South Seas; had an +island of his own. Perhaps he had heard of this Enschede. Mac--the +old gossip--knew about everything going on in that part of the +world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had +drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. He might +solve the riddle. All of which proves that the doctor also had his +moments of distraction, with this difference: he was not distracted +from his subject matter. + +"So endeth the first lesson," he said. "Suppose we go and have tea? +I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the +Victoria instead. I must practise what I preach." + +"I should be unafraid to go anywhere with you." + +"Lord, that's just the lesson I've been expounding! It isn't a +question of fear; it's one of propriety." + +"I'll never understand." + +"You don't have to. I'll tell you what. I'll write out certain +rules of conduct, and then you'll never be in doubt." + +She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears. If only this +child were his: what good times they would have together! The +thought passed on, but it left a little ache in his heart. + +"Why do you laugh?" he asked. + +"All that you have been telling me, our old Kanaka cook summed up +in a phrase." + +"What was it?" + +"Never glance sideways at a man.". + +"The whole thing in a nutshell!" + +"Are there no men a woman may trust absolutely?" + +"Hang it, that isn't it. Of course there are, millions of them. +It's public opinion. We all have to kow-tow to that." + +"Who made such a law?" + +"This world is governed by minorities--in politics, in religion, in +society. Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt. Footprints, +and we have to toddle along in them, willy-nilly; and those who +have the courage to step outside the appointed path are called +pariahs!" + +"I'm afraid I shall not like this world very much. It is putting +all my dreams out of joint." + +"Never let the unknown edge in upon your courage. The world is like +a peppery horse. If he senses fear in the touch of your hand, he'll +give you trouble." + +"It's all so big and aloof. It isn't friendly as I thought it would +be. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself +repeating. + +He drew her away from this thought. "I read those stories." + +"Are they good?" + +"He can write; but he hasn't found anything real to write about. He +hasn't found himself, as they say. He's rewriting Poe and De +Maupassant; and that stuff was good only when Poe and De Maupassant +wrote it." + +"How do you spell the last name?" + +He spelt it. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder +stir her shoulders. "Not the sort of stories young ladies should +read. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares. But De +Maupassant--sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. +Before you go I'll give you a list of books to read." + +"There are bad stories, then, just as there are bad people?" + +"Yes. Sewn on that button yet?" + +"I've been afraid to take the coat from under the pillow." + +"Funny, about that coat. You told him there wasn't anything in the +pockets?" + +"Yes." + +"How did he take it?" + +"He did not seem to care." + +"There you are, just as I said. We've got to get him to care. We've +got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. +That's the job. He's young and sound. Of course, there'll be a few +kinks to straighten out. He's passed through some rough mental +torture. But one of these days everything will click back into +place. Great sport, eh? To haul them back from the ragged edge. +Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll +go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole +shot to us. That would be fun, eh?" + +"I wonder if you know how kind you are? You are like somebody out +of a book." + +"There, now! You mustn't get mixed. You mustn't go by what you read +so much as by what you see and hear. You must remember, you've just +begun to read; you haven't any comparisons. You mustn't go dressing +up Tom, Dick, and Harry in Henry Esmond's ruffles. What you want to +do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon +Crawley." + +"I know what is good," she replied. + +"Yes; but what is good isn't always proper. And so, here we are, +right back from where we started. But no more of that. Let's talk +of this chap. There's good stuff in him, if one could find the way +to dig it out. But pathologically, he is still on the edge. Unless +we can get some optimism into him, he'll probably start this all +over again when he gets on his feet. That's the way it goes. But +between us, we'll have him writing books some day. That's one of +the troubles with young folks: they take themselves so seriously. +He probably imagines himself to be a thousand times worse off than +he actually is. Youth finds it pleasant sometimes to be melancholy. +Disappointed puppy-love, and all that." + +"Puppy-love." + +"A young fellow who thinks he's in love, when he has only been +reading too much." + +"Do girls have puppy-love?" + +"Land sakes, yes! On the average they are worse than the boys. A +boy can forget his amatory troubles playing baseball; but a girl +can't find any particular distraction in doing fancy work. Do you +know, I envy you. All the world before you, all the ologies. What +an adventure! Of course, you'll bark your shins here and there and +hit your funnybone; but the newness of everything will be something +of a compensation. All right. Let's get one idea into our heads. We +are going to have this chap writing books one of these days." + +Ideas are never born; they are suggested; they are planted seeds. +Ruth did not reply, but stared past the doctor, her eyes misty. The +doctor had sown a seed, carelessly. All that he had sown that +afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this +seed, cast without forethought. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a +long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things +would spring up and blossom overnight. Already the seed of a tender +dream was stirring. The hour for which, presumably, she had been +created was drawing nigh. For in life there is but one hour: an +epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. + +"By the way," said the doctor, as he sat down in the dining room of +the Victoria and ordered tea, "I've been thinking it over." + +"What?" + +"We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of +them to him." + +"But why not?" + +The doctor dallied with his teaspoon. Something about the girl had +suggested an idea. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been +other than what she was. First-off, he had decided not to tell her +what he had found at the bottom of that manila envelope. Now it +occurred to him that to show her the sealed letter would be a +better way. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical +reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the +nurse. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not +possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. To disillusion her, +forthwith. + +"I'll tell you why," he said. "At the bottom of that big envelope I +found this one." + +He passed it over; and Ruth read: + + To be opened in case of my death and the letter inside + forwarded to the address thereon. All my personal effects + to be left in charge of the nearest American Consulate. + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Ruth lost the point entirely. The doctor expected her to seize upon +the subtle inference that there was something furtive, even +criminal, in the manner the patient set this obligation upon +humanity at large, to look after him in the event of his death. The +idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. Any man might +have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no +one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it +mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar +places he loved. + +Close upon this came another thought. She had no place she loved. +In all this world there was no sacred ground that said to her: +Return! She was of all human beings the most lonely. Even now, +during the recurring doubts of the future, the thought of the +island was repellent. She hated it, she hated the mission-house; +she hated the sleek lagoon, the palms, the burning sky. But some +day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on +the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her +face. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy +apples and flurries of snow. + +"The poor young man!" she said. + +The doctor sensed that his bolt had gone wrong, but he could not +tell how or why. He dared not go on. He was not sure that the boy +had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed +that way. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and +in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the +witless cruelty of the act. + +That night in his den he smoked many pipes. Twice he cleaned the +old briar; still there was no improvement. He poured a pinch of +tobacco into his palm and sniffed. The weed was all right. Probably +something he had eaten. He was always forgetting that his tummy was +fifty-four years old. + +He would certainly welcome McClintock's advent. Mac would have some +new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. He +was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in +the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy. It was, +in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and +physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than +three or four times a year, only then when they had to. Why did the +beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that +civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see +McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. + +Sometimes at sea a skipper will order his men to trim, batten down +the hatches, and clear the deck of all litter. The barometer says +nothing, neither the sky nor the water; the skipper has the "feel" +that out yonder there's a big blow moving. Now the doctor had the +"feel" that somewhere ahead lay danger. It was below consciousness, +elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. + + * * * * * + +At the end of each day Ah Cum would inquire as to the progress of +the patient, and invariably the answer was: "About the same." This +went on for ten days. Then Ah Cum was notified that the patient had +sat up in bed for quarter of an hour. Promptly Ah Cum wired the +information to O'Higgins in Hong-Kong. The detective reckoned that +his quarry would be up in ten days more. + +To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision +a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Her fanciful +imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a +wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. The doctor's lessons, +perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed +that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. + +Between Canton and Hartford two giants had risen, invisible but +menacing--Fear and Doubt. The unknown, previously so attractive, +now presented another face--blank. The doctor had not heard from +his people. She was reasonably certain why. They did not want her. + +Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, +who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. Sometimes a +whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond +the request for a drink of water. Again, he would ask a few +questions, and Ruth would answer them. He would repeat them +innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. + +"What is your name?" + +"Ruth." + +"Ruth what?" + +"Enschede; Ruth Enschede." + +"En-shad-ay. You are French?" + +"No. Dutch; Pennsylvania Dutch." + +And then his interest would cease. Perhaps an hour later he would +begin again. + +At other times he seemed to have regained the normal completely. He +would discuss something she had been reading, and he would give her +some unexpected angle, setting a fictional character before her +with astonishing clearness. Then suddenly the curtain would fall. + +"What is your name?" To-day, however, he broke the monotony. "An +American. Enschede--that's a queer name." + +"I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile. + +Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the +disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. + +"I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real." + +"I've been wondering, too." + +"Are you a real nurse?" + +"Yes." + +"Professional?" + +"Why do you wish to know?" + +"Professional nurses wear a sort of uniform." + +"While I look as if I had stepped out of the family album?" + +He frowned perplexedly. "Where did I hear that before?" + +"Perhaps that first day, in the water-clock tower." + +"I imagine I've been in a kind of trance." + +"And now you are back in the world again, with things to do and +places to go. There is a button loose on that coat under your +pillow. Shall I sew it on for you?" + +"If you wish." + +This readiness to surrender the coat to her surprised Ruth. She had +prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that +burning glance. But in a moment she believed she understood. He was +normal now, and the coat was only a coat. It had been his fevered +imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary +value. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under +the pillow. + +"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. + +"You were a little out of your head." + +Gravely he watched the needle flash to and fro. He noted the strong +white teeth as they snipped the thread. At length the task was +done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, +and rose. + +"Do you want it back under the pillow?" + +"Hang it over a chair. Or, better still, put all my clothes in the +trunk. They litter up the room. The key is in my trousers." + +This business over, she returned to the bedside with the key. She +felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. Every +article in the trunk was fully known to her, through a recounting +of the list by the doctor. To hand the key back in silence was like +offering a lie. + +"Put it under my pillow," he said. + +Immediately she had spoken of the loose button he knew that +henceforth he must show no concern over the disposition of that +coat. He must not in any way call their attention to it. He must +preserve it, however, as they preserved the Ark of the Covenant. It +was his redemption, his ticket out of hell--that blue-serge coat. +To witness this girl sewing on a loose button, flopping the coat +about on her knees, tickled his ironic sense of humour; and +laughter bubbled into his throat. He smothered it down with such a +good will that the reaction set his heart to pounding. The walls +rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had +the nebulosity of a composite photograph. So he shut his eyes. +Presently he heard her voice. + +"I must tell you," she was saying. "We went through your +belongings. We did not know where to send ... in case you died. +There was nothing in the pockets of the coat." + +"Don't worry about that." He opened his eyes again. + +"I wanted you to know. There is nobody, then?" + +"Oh, there is an aunt. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, +I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. Will you read to +me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy." + +Half an hour later she laid aside the book. He was asleep. She +leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and +she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy +contemplation. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as +empty as hers? + +Some living thing that depended upon her. The doll she had never +owned, the cat and the dog that had never been hers: here they +were, strangely incorporated in this sleeping man. He depended upon +her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it +was now permissible to give him. The knowledge breathed into her +heart a satisfying warmth. + +At noon the doctor himself arrived. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. +He wanted to talk with the patient, test him variously; and he +wanted to be alone with him while he put these tests. His idea was +to get behind this sustained listlessness. "How goes it?" he began, +heartily. "A bit up in the world again; eh?" + +"Why did you bother with me?" + +"Because no human being has the right to die. Death belongs to God, +young man." + +"Ah." The tone was neutral. + +"And had you been the worst scoundrel unhung, I'd have seen to it +that you had the same care, the same chance. But don't thank me; +thank Miss Enschede. She caught the fact that it was something more +than strong drink that laid you out. If they hadn't sent for me, +you'd have pegged out before morning." + +"Then I owe my life to her?" + +"Positively." + +"What do you want me to do?" + +The doctor thought this query gave hopeful promise. "Always +remember the fact. She is something different. When I told her that +there were no available nurses this side of Hong-Kong, she offered +her services at once, and broke her journey. And I need not tell +you that her hotel bill is running on the same as yours." + +"Do you want me to tell her that I am grateful?" + +"Well, aren't you?" + +"I don't know; I really don't know." + +"Look here, my boy, that attitude is all damned nonsense. Here you +are, young, sound, with a heart that will recover in no time, +provided you keep liquor out of it. And you talk like that! What +the devil have you been up to, to land in this bog?" It was a cast +at random. + +His guardian angel warned Spurlock to speak carefully. "I have been +very unhappy." + +"So have we all. But we get over it. And you will." + +After a moment Spurlock said: "Perhaps I am an ungrateful dog." + +"That's better. Remember, if there's anything you'd like to get off +your chest, doctors and priests are in the same boat." + +With no little effort--for the right words had a way of tumbling +back out of reach--he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered +them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. "I'm +only a benighted fool; and having said that, I have said +everything. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much +imagination--the kind who build their own chimeras and then run +away from them. How long shall I be kept in this bed?" + +"That's particularly up to you. Ten days should see you on your +feet. But if you don't want to get up, maybe three times ten days." + +There had never been, from that fatal hour eight months gone down +to this, the inclination to confess. He had often read about it, +and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force +which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue +controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. As for himself, +there had never been a touch of it. It was less will than +education. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his +tongue had not betrayed him. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form +of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. And yet that +could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. +Living, he knew that he would never send that letter. + +His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. He could +neither stifle nor deaden that. It was always jabbing him with +white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping. But it never said: "Tell +someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? +Was it what he had lost--the familiar world--rather than what he +had done? + +He stared dully at the footrail. For the present the desire to fly +was gone. No doubt that was due to his helplessness. When he was up +and about, the idea of flight would return. But how far could he +fly on a few hundred? True, he might find a job somewhere; but +every footstep from behind...! + +"Who is she? Where does she come from?" + +"You mean Miss Enschede?" + +"Yes. That dress she has on--my mother might have worn it." + +He was beginning to notice things, then? The doctor was pleased. +The boy was coming around. + +"Miss Enschede was born on an island in the South Seas. She is +setting out for Hartford, Connecticut. The dress was her mother's, +and she was wearing it to save a little extra money." + +The doctor had entered the room fully determined to tell the +patient the major part of Ruth's story, to inspire him with proper +respect and gratitude. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor +details--why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither +she was bound. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the +fact was evident but not the reason for it. + +"How would you like a job on a copra plantation?" he asked, +irrelevantly to the thoughts crowding one another in his mind. "Out +of the beaten track, with a real man for an employer? How would +that strike you?" + +Interest shot into Spurlock's eyes; it spread to his wan face. Out +of the beaten track! He must not appear too eager. "I'll need a job +when I quit this bed. I'm not particular what or where." + +"That kind of talk makes you sound like a white man. Of course, I +can't promise you the job definitely. But I've an old friend on the +way here, and he knows the game down there. If he hasn't a job for +you, he'll know someone who has. Managers and accountants are +always shifting about, so he tells me. It's mighty lonesome down +there for a man bred to cities." + +"Find me the job. I don't care how lonesome it is." + +Out of the beaten track! thought Spurlock. A forgotten island +beyond the ship lanes, where that grim Hand would falter and move +blindly in its search for him! From what he had read, there +wouldn't be much to do; and in the idle hours he could write. + +"Thanks," he said, holding out a thin white hand. "I'll be very +glad to take that kind of a job, if you can find it." + +"Well, that's fine. Got you interested in something, then? Would +you like a peg?" + +"No. I hated the stuff. There was a pleasant numbness in the +bottle; that's why I went to it." + +"Thought so. But I had to know for sure. Down there, whisky raises +the very devil with white men. Don't build your hopes too high; but +I will do what I can. While there's life there's hope. Buck up." + +"I'm afraid I don't understand." + +"Understand what?" + +"You or this girl. There are, then, in this sorry world, people who +can be disinterestedly kind!" + +The doctor laughed, gave Spurlock's shoulder a pat, and left the +room. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels. Why +hadn't he gone on with the girl's story? What instinct had stuffed +it back into his throat? Why the inexplicable impulse to hurry this +rather pathetic derelict on his way? + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Previous to his illness, Spurlock's mind had been tortured by an +appalling worry, so that now, in the process of convalescence, it +might be compared to a pool which had been violently stirred: there +were indications of subsidence, but there were still strange forms +swirling on the surface--whims and fancies which in normal times +would never have risen above sub-consciousness. + +Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both +Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to +accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote +or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter +that refused to straighten out. + +Spurlock began to watch for Ruth's coming in the morning; first, +with negligent interest, then with positive eagerness. His literary +instincts were reviving. Ruth was something to study for future +copy; she was almost unbelievable. She was not a reversion to type, +which intimates the primordial; she suggested rather the +incarnation of some goddess of the South Seas. He was not able to +recognize, as the doctor did, that she was only a natural woman. + +His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any +sentimentality, utterly selfish. Ruth was not a woman; she was a +phenomenon. So, adroitly and patiently, he pulled Ruth apart; that +is, he plucked forth a little secret here, another there, until he +had quite a substantial array. What he did not know was this: Ruth +surrendered these little secrets because the doctor had warned her +that the patient must be amused and interested. + +From time to time, however, he was baffled. The real tragedy--which +he sensed and toward which he was always reaching--eluded all his +verbal skill. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across +that part of her life: it was of iron. Ruth could tell the doctor; +she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; +but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom +she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. It was +not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a +protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in +order to hold the interest of the male. + +When she told him that the natives called her The Dawn Pearl, his +delight was unbounded. He addressed her by that title, and +something in the tone disturbed her. A sophisticated woman would +have translated the tone as a caress. And yet to Spurlock it was +only the title of a story he would some day write. He was caressing +an idea. + +The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own +imagination. The true creative mind is always returning to battle; +defeats are only temporary set-backs. Spurlock knew that somewhere +along the way he would write a story worth while. Already he was +dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving +adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. But +somehow he could not bring any of these affairs to an orderly end. +Presently he became filled with astonishment over the singular fact +that Ruth was eluding him in fancy as well as in reality. + +One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. Men had +tried that before, but never until now had they been quick enough. +The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the +eyes that looked into hers were clean. Spurlock knew exactly what +he was doing, however: speculative mischief, to see how she would +act. + +"I haven't offended you?"--not contritely but curiously. + +"No"--as if her thoughts were elsewhere. + +Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. "Has no man +ever kissed you?" + +"No." Which was literally the truth. + +He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had +kissed her. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. But his +astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not +even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with +hands. + +Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. The significance of the +kiss was still obscure to her, though she had frequently +encountered the word and act in the Old and New Testaments and +latterly in novels. Men had tried to kiss her--unshaven derelicts, +some of them terrible--but she had always managed to escape. What +had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of +the good woman. Something namelessly abhorrent in the eyes of those +men...! + +She knew what arms were for--to fold and embrace and to hold one +tightly; but why men wished to kiss women was still a profound +mystery. No matter how often she came across this phase in love +stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human +beings perfectly understood. It would not have been for her an +anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. + +This salute of his--actually the first she could remember--while it +did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels +of speculation. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the +more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; +she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some +future experience. + +"The Dawn Pearl," he said. + +"The natives have foolish ways of saying things." + +"On the contrary, if that is a specimen, they must be poets. Tell +me about your island. I have never seen a lagoon." + +"But you can imagine it. Tell me what you think the island is +like." + +He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had +imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. To be free +of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the +scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, +he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with +the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred +face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white +sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, +sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy +floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the +screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the +mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the +lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid +sapphire. + +"I think the natives saw you coming out of the lagoon, one dawn. +For you say that you swim. Wonderful! The water, dripping from you, +must have looked like pearls. Do you know what? You're some sea +goddess and you're only fooling us." + +He opened his eyes, to behold hers large with wonder. + +"And you saw all that in your mind?" + +"It wasn't difficult. You yourself supplied the details. All I had +to do was to piece them together." + +"But I never told you how the natives fished." + +"Perhaps I read of it somewhere." + +"Still, you forgot something." + +"What did I forget?" + +"The breathless days and the faded, pitiless sky. Nothing to do; +nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. To wait for hours and +hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the +monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and +crushes you--you forgot that!" + +Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate +anger. It was his turn to express astonishment. Fire; she was full +of it. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! + +"You don't like your island?" + +"I hate it!... But, there!"--weariness edging in. "I am sorry. I +shouldn't talk like that. I'm a poor nurse." + +"You are the most wonderful human being I ever saw!" And he meant +it. + +She trembled; but she did not know why. "You mustn't talk any more; +the excitement isn't good for you." + +Drama. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she +hated her island. Never had he been so intrigued. Why, there was +drama in the very dress she wore! There was drama in the unusual +beauty of her, hidden away all these years on a forgotten isle! + +"You've been lonely, too." + +"You mustn't talk." + +He ignored the command. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if +someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone ... as I am!... yes, +and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an +eye. With nobody who cares ... the both of us!" + +He was real in this moment. She was given a glimpse of his soul. +She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat +perfectly still. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he +would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend +upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her +again. She could not analyse what was stirring in her: the thought +of losing the doll, the dog, and the cat. There was the world +besides, looming darker and larger. + +"What would you like most in this world?" he asked. Once more he +was the searcher. + +"Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly +transfixed by some inner glory. + +"Red apples and snow!" he repeated. He returned figuratively to his +bed--the bed he had made for himself and in which he must for ever +lie. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered +his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!--and +never again to behold them! + +"I am going out for a little while," she said. She wanted to be +alone. "Otherwise you will not get your morning's sleep." + +He did not reply. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been +submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of +himself. He heard the door close; and in a little while he fell +into a doze; and there came a dream filled with broken pictures, +each one of which the girl dominated. He saw her, dripping with +rosy pearls, rise out of the lagoon in the dawn light: he saw her +flashing to and fro among the coco palms in the moonshine: he saw +her breasting the hurricane, her body as full of grace and beauty +as the Winged Victory of the Louvre. The queer phase of the dream +was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of +something, and he followed to learn what this something was. There +was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his +hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the +mountain. + +His heart beat wildly and he was afraid lest the strain be too +much; but the girl shook her head and smiled and pointed to the top +of the mountain. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue +sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great +rocking circle which hemmed them in. She pointed hither and yon, +smiled and shook her head. Then he understood. Nowhere could he see +that reaching, menacing Hand. So long as she stood beside him, he +was safe. That was what she was trying to make him understand. + +He awoke, strangely content. As it happens sometimes, the idea +stepped down from the dream into the reality; and he saw it more +clearly now than he had seen it in the dream. It filled his +thoughts for the rest of the day, and became an obsession. How to +hold her, how to keep her at his side; this was the problem with +which he struggled. + +When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an +interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and +investigate: she was talismanic. So long as she stood beside him, +the Hand would not prevail. + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +Ah cum began to worry. Each morning his inquiry was properly +answered: the patient was steadily improving, but none could say +when he would be strong enough to proceed upon his journey. The +tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in +September before the tide returned. So, then, fifty gold was +considerable; it would carry Ah Cum across four comparatively idle +months. And because of this hanging gold Ah Cum left many doors +open to doubt. + +Perhaps the doctor, the manager and the girl were in collusion: +perhaps they had heard indirectly of the visit paid by Mr. +O'Higgins, the American detective, and were waiting against the +hour when they could assist the young man in a sudden dash for +liberty. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of +the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. + +One morning, as he took his stand on the Hong-Kong packet dock to +ambush the possible tourist, he witnessed the arrival of a tubby +schooner, dirty gray and blotched as though she had run through +fire. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, +her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. There was only one +clean spot in the picture--the ship's wash (all white) that +fluttered on a line stretched between the two masts. The half-nude +brown bodies of the crew informed Ah Cum that the schooner had come +up from the South Seas. The boiling under her stern, however, told +him nothing. He was not a sailor. It would not have interested him +in the least to learn that the tub ran on two powers--wind and oil. + +Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while +overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. One of the sampans +was hailed, and a rope-ladder was lowered. Shortly a man descended +laboriously. He was dressed immaculately in a suit of heavy +Shantung silk. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed +_sola topee_--sun-helmet. He turned and shouted some orders to the +Kanaka crew, then nodded to the sampan's coolies, who bore upon the +sweeps and headed for the Sha-mien. + +Ah Cum turned to his own affairs, blissfully ignorant that this tub +was, within forty-eight hours, to cost him fifty gold. What had +shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of +three who were coming down the packet gang-plank. The trio +exhibited that indecisive air with which Ah Cum was tolerably +familiar. They were looking for a guide. Forthwith he presented his +card. + +The Reverend Henry Dolby had come to see China; for that purpose he +had, with his wife and daughter, traversed land and sea to the +extent of ten thousand miles. Actually, he had come all this +distance simply to fulfil a certain clause in his contract with +Fate, to be in Canton on this particular day. + +Meantime, as the doctor was splitting his breakfast orange, he +heard a commotion in his office, two rooms removed: volleys of +pidgin English, one voice in protest, the other dominant. This was +followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room +door was flung open. + +The doctor jumped to his feet. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" + +"Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. + +"Tom! Hey, Tom!" The Chinese cook thrust his head into the dining +room. "Those chops, fried potatoes, and buttered toast." + +"Aw light!" + +The two old friends held each other off at arms' length for +inspection; this proving satisfactory, they began to prod and +pummel one another affectionately. No hair to fall awry, no powder +to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Women never throw +themselves into each other's arms; they calculate the distance and +the damage perfectly. + +They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he +began munching. + +"Come up by the packet?" + +"No; came up with _The Tigress_." + +"_The Tigress!_" The doctor laughed. "You'd have hit it off better +if you'd called her _The Sow_. I'll bet you haven't given her a +bucket of paint in three years. Oh, I know. You give her a daub +here and there where the rust shows. A man as rich as you are ought +to have a thousand-ton yacht." + +"Good enough for me. She's plenty clean below." + +"I'll bet she still smells to heaven with sour coconut. Bring your +liveralong?" + +"I sometimes wonder if I have any--if it isn't the hole where it +was that aches." + +"You look pretty fit." + +"Oh, a shave and a clean suit will do a lot. It's a pity you +wouldn't give me the prescription instead of the medicine, so I +could have it filled nearer home." + +"I'd never set eyes on you again. You'd be coming up to Hong-Kong, +but you'd be cutting out Canton. I'll bet you've been in Hong-Kong +these two weeks already, and never a line to me." + +"Didn't want any lectures spoiling a good time." + +"How long will you be here?" + +"To-morrow night. It's sixteen days down, with _The Tigress_. The +South China will be dropping to a dead calm, and I want to use +canvas as much as I can. You simply can't get good oil down there, +so I must husband the few drams I carry." + +"What a life!" + +"No worse than yours." + +"But I'm a poor man. I'm always shy the price of the ticket home. +You're rich. You could return to civilization and have a good time +all the rest of your days." + +"Two weeks in Hong-Kong," replied McClintock, "is more than +enough." + +"But, Lord, man!--don't you ever get lonesome?" + +"Don't you?" + +"I'm too busy." + +"So am I. I am carrying back a hundred new books and forty new +records for the piano-player. Whenever I feel particularly +gregarious, I take the launch and run over to Copeley's and play +poker for a couple of days. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. I can't +keep a good man beyond three pay-days. They want some fun, and +there isn't any. No other white people within twenty miles. I've +combed Hong-Kong. They all balk because there aren't any +petticoats. I won't have a beachcomber on the island. The job is +easy. The big pay strikes them; but when they find there's no place +to spend it, good-bye!" + +Tom the cook came in with the chops and the potatoes--the doctor's +dinner--and McClintock fell to with a gusto which suggested that +there was still some liver under his ribs. The doctor smoked his +pipe thoughtfully. + +"Mac, did you ever run across a missioner by the name of Enschede?" + +"Enschede?" McClintock stared at the ceiling. "Sounds as if I had +heard it, but I can't place it this minute. Certainly I never met +him. Why?" + +"I was just wondering. You say you need a man. Just how particular +are you? Will he have to bring recommendations?" + +"He will not. His face will be all I need. Have you got someone in +mind for me?" + +"Finish your breakfast and I'll tell you the story." Ten minutes +later, the doctor, having marshalled all his facts chronologically, +began his tale. He made it brief. "Of course, I haven't the least +evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a +hunch; piecing this and that together." + +"Are you friendly toward him?" asked McClintock, passing a fine +cigar across the table. + +"Yes. The boy doesn't know it, but I dug into his trunk for +something to identify him and stumbled upon some manuscripts. +Pretty good stuff, some of it. The subject matter was generally +worthless, but the handling was well done. You're always +complaining that you can't keep anybody more than three months. If +my conjectures are right, this boy would stay there indefinitely." + +"I don't know," said McClintock. + +"But you said you weren't particular. Moreover, he's a Yale +University man, and he'd be good company." + +"What's he know about copra and native talk?" + +"Nothing, probably; but I'll wager he'll pick it all up fast +enough." + +"A fugitive." + +"But that's the point--I don't know. But supposing he is? Supposing +he made but one misstep? Your island would be a haven of security. +I know something about men." + +"I agree to that. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the +woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. Why are you so anxious?" + +"Oh, if you can't see your way...." + +"I'll have a look-see before I make any decision. It's your +eagerness that bothers me. You seem to want this chap out of +Canton." + +The doctor hesitated, puffing his tobacco hastily. "There's a young +woman." + +"I remember now!" interrupted McClintock. "This Enschede--the +missioner. One of his converted Kanakas dropped in one day. He +called Enschede the Bellower. Seems Enschede's daughter ran away +and left him, and he's combing the islands in search of her. He's a +hundred miles sou'-east of me." + +"Well, this young lady I was about to describe," said the doctor, +"is Enschede's daughter." + +McClintock whistled. "Oho!" he said. "So she got away as far as +this, eh? But where does she come in?" + +The doctor recounted that side of the tale. "And so I want the boy +out of the way," he concluded. "She in intensely impressionable and +romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn't +possess. All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. You +have to see her to understand." + +"And what are you going to do with her, supposing I'm fool enough +to take this boy with me?" + +"Send her to my people, in case she cannot find her aunt." + +"I see. Afraid there'll be a love-affair. Well, I'll have a look-see +at this young De Maupassant. I know faces. Down in my part of the +world it's all a man has to go by. But if he's in bed, how the devil +is he going with me, supposing I decide to hire him? The mudhook +comes up to-morrow night." + +"I can get him aboard all right. A sea voyage under sail will be +the making of him." + +"Let's toddle over to the Victoria at once. I'll do anything in +reason for you, old top; but no pig in a poke. Enschede's daughter. +Things happen out this way. That's a queer yarn." + +"It's a queer girl." + +"With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. I know the +Dutch." He sent the doctor a sly glance. + +"She's the most beautiful creature you ever set eyes on," said the +doctor, warmly. "That's the whole difficulty. I want her to get +forward, to set her among people who'll understand what to do with +her." + +"Ship her back to her father"--sagely. + +"No. I tell you, that girl would jump into the sea, rather. +Something happened down there, and probably I'll never know what. +Every time you mention the father, she turns into marble. No; she'd +never go back. Mac, she's the honestest human being I ever saw or +heard of; and at the same time she is velvet over steel. And yet, +she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any +plausible, attractive scoundrel. That's why I'm so anxious to get +her to a haven." + +"Come along, then. You've got me interested and curious. If you +were ten years younger, you'd have me wondering." + +The doctor did not reply to this rather ambiguous statement, but +pushed back his chair and signed to McClintock to follow. They +found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were +propped by pillows. + +McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. It was his +particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given +him a remarkable appraising eye. Within ten minutes he had read +much more than had greeted his eye. A wave of pity went over +him--pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. The poor old +imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he +had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her +gifts. + +As for the patient, his decision was immediate. Here was no crooked +soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but +fundamentally honest. Given time and the right environment, and he +would outgrow these defects. Confidence in himself would strengthen +him. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States, +his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. With a +little more meat on him, he would be handsome. + +"My friend here," said McClintock, "tells me you are looking for a +job." + +"Yes." + +"Well, I've a job open; but I don't want you to get the wrong idea +of it. In the first place, it will be damnably dull. You won't +often see white folks. There will be long stretches of idleness, +heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut. A +good deal of the food will be in tins. You'll live to hate chicken; +and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink. But nobody +drinks on my island unless I offer it, which is seldom. If there is +any drinking, I'll do it." + +Spurlock smiled at the doctor. + +"He'll not trouble you on the liquor side, Mac." + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Corporation. The Ragged Edge._ +A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY.] + +"So much the better. You will have a bungalow to yourself," +continued McClintock, "and your morning meal will be your own +affair. But luncheon and dinners you will sit at my table. I'm a +stickler about clothes and clean chins. How you dress when you're +loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung, +when you dine with me, collar and tie. If you like books and music, +we'll get along." + +"Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those +of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. + +"I am going to give you a try." + +"When will you want me?"--with pitiful eagerness. "How shall I get +to you?" + +"My yacht is in the river. The doctor here says he can get you +aboard to-morrow night. But understand me thoroughly: I am offering +you this job because my friend wants to help you. I don't know +anything about you. I am gambling on his intuition." McClintock +preferred to put it thus. + +"To-morrow night!" said Spurlock, in a wondering whisper. Out of +the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed. + +The doctor reached over and laid his hand upon Spurlock's heart. +"Thumping; but that's only excitement. You'll do." + +Then he looked at Ruth. Her face expressed nothing. That was one of +the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had +always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm +that no Occidental trick could dislodge. He could not tell by the +look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would +be free. + +"I have good news for you. If you do not find your aunt, my people +will take you under wing until you can stand on your own." + +"That is very kind of you," she acknowledged. The lips of the mask +twisted upward into a smile. + +The doctor missed the expression of terror and dismay that flitted +across Spurlock's face. + +Once they were below, McClintock turned upon the doctor. "I can +readily see," he said, "why you'll always be as poor as a church +mouse." + +"What?" said the doctor, whose thoughts were in something of a +turmoil. "What's that?" + +"The old human cry of something for nothing; but with you it is in +reverse. You are always doing something for nothing, and that is +why I love you. If I offered you half of my possessions, you'd +doubtless wallop me on the jaw. To be with you is the best moral +tonic I know. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul. It is good +sometimes to walk with a man who can look God squarely in the face, +as you can." + +"But wasn't I right? That pair?" + +"I'll take the boy; he'll be a novelty. Amiable and good-looking. +That's the kind, my friend, that always fall soft. No matter what +they do, always someone to bolster them up, to lend them money, and +to coddle them." + +"But, man, this chap hasn't fallen soft." + +"Ay, but he will. And here's the proof. You and the girl have made +it soft for him, and I'm going to make it soft for him. But what I +do is based upon the fact that he is one of those individuals who +are conscience-driven. Conscience drove him to this side of the +world, to this bed. It drives him to my island, where I can study +him to my heart's content. He believes that he is leaving this +conscience behind; and I want to watch his disillusion on this +particular point. Oh, don't worry. I shall always be kind to him; I +sha'n't bait him. Only, he'll be an interesting specimen for me to +observe. But ship that girl east as soon as you can." + +"Why?" + +McClintock put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "Because she's a +fire-opal, and to the world at large they bring bad luck." + +"Rot! Mac, what do you suppose the natives used to call her? The +Dawn Pearl!" + +McClintock wagged his Scotch head negatively. He knew what he knew. + + * * * * * + +Spurlock possessed that extraordinary condition of the mind which +is called New England conscience. Buried under various ancestral +sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and +bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent +that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its +peculiar force. The Protestant Flagellant, who whipped his soul +rather than his body, who made self-denial the rack and the boot, +who believed that on Sunday it was sacrilegious to smile, +blasphemous to laugh! Spurlock had gone back spiritually three +hundred years. In the matter of his conscience he was primitive; +and for an educated man to become primitive is to become something +of a child. + +From midnight until morning he was now left alone. He had +sufficient strength to wait upon himself. During the previous night +he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts +had raced in an endless circle--action without progress. He was +reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying +conscience. He thought rationally; that is to say, he thought +clearly, as a child thinks clearly. The primitive superstition of +his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his +education disintegrated. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against +misfortune--which he now recognized as a sick man's idea--faded as +his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. But in its +stead--toward morning--there appeared another idea which appealed to +him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his +artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He +was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he +would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. + +To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, +was out of the question. Let the law put its hand on his +shoulder--if it could! But at present he was at liberty, and he +purposed to remain in that state. His conscience never told him to +go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to +the deed itself. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he +required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. + +Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt +this persistent agony. It was not necessary to appease the wrath of +human society; it was necessary only to appease that of God for the +broken Commandment. To divide the agony into two spheres so that +one would mitigate the other. In fine, to marry Ruth (if she would +consent) as a punishment for what he had done! To whip his soul so +long as he lived, but to let his body go free! To provide for her, +to work and dream for her, to be tender and thoughtful and loyal, +to shelter and guard her, to become accountable to God for her +future. + +It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. In this +hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him. + +So, then, when McClintock offered the coveted haven, Spurlock +became afire to dramatize the idea. + +"Ruth!" + +She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. All the +sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her +thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. She did not +want to go to the doctor's people; however kindly that might be, +they would be only curious strangers. She would never return to her +father; that resolution was final. What she actually wanted was the +present state of affairs to continue indefinitely. + +That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her +life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships +(like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new +circle. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage +was merely a shell to hide the lack. To have the present lengthen +into years! But in a few hours she would be upon her way, far +lonelier than she had ever been. As Spurlock called her name, she +paused and turned. + +"Dawn Pearl!... come here!" + +She moved to the side of the bed. "What is it?" + +"Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!... As my wife! +Both of us, never to be lonely again!... Will you marry me, Ruth?" + +As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness +for love. Love and companionship. A fire enveloped her, a fire +which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, +blotting out the menace of the world. She forgot her vital hatred +of the South Seas; she forgot that McClintock's would not differ a +jot from the old island she had for ever left behind her; she +forgot all the doctor's lessons and warnings. + +She would marry him. Because of the thought of love and +companionship? No. Because here was the haven for which she had +been blindly groping: the positive abolition of all her father's +rights in her--the right to drag her back. The annihilation of the +Terror which fascinated her and troubled her dreams o' nights. + +"You want me, then?" she said. + +"Oh, yes!--for always!" + +He took her hands and pressed them upon his thrumming heart; and in +this attitude they remained for some time. + +Something forbade him to draw her toward him and seal the compact +with a kiss. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the +penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. He +could not kiss Ruth. + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +After the Ten Commandments have been spoken, conscience becomes +less something inherent than something acquired. It is now a point +of view, differing widely, as the ignorant man differs from the +educated. You and I will agree upon the Ten Commandments; but +perhaps we will refuse to accept the other's interpretation of the +ramifications. I step on my neighbour's feet, return and apologize +because my acquired conscience orders me to do so; whereas you +might pass on without caring if your neighbour hopped about on one +foot. The inherent conscience keeps most of us away from jail, from +court, from the gallows; the acquired conscience helps us to +preserve the little amenities of daily life. So then, the acquired +is the livelier phase, being driven into action daily; whereas the +inherent may lie dormant for months, even years. + +To Spurlock, in this hour, his conscience stood over against the +Ten Commandments, one of which he had broken. He became primitive, +literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, +fairly relegated to limbo. He could not kiss Ruth because the +acquired conscience--struggling on its way to limbo--made the idea +repellant. Analysis would come later, when the primitive +conscience, satisfied, would cease to dominate his thought and +action. + +Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no +longer functioned in the accustomed groove. And yet he knew clearly +and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be. +This species of madness cannot properly be attributed to his +illness, though its accent might be. For a time he would be the +grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. +That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never +broke in upon his thought for consideration. The fanatic has no +such word in his vocabulary. + +Ruth had not expected to be kissed; so the omission passed unnoted. +For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that +never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the +dreams would be depending upon her. + +A strange betrothal!--the primal idea of which was escape! The +girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the +father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had +now named the Terror: the boy, seeking self-crucifixion in +expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into +damnation! + +It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she +was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to +give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. To +her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which +pursued her. + +There was nothing on the Tablets of Moses that forebade Spurlock +marrying Ruth; there were no previous contracts. And yet, Spurlock +was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. They agreed that they must +marry at once, this morning, before the doctor could suspect what +was toward. The doctor would naturally offer a hundred objections; +he might seriously interfere; so he must be forestalled. + +What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth +had not the least conception, no more than a child. If she had any +idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: +something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. But the +clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. Wherein she +differed but little from her young sisters. + +That is what marriage is to most young women: the ultimate escape +from the family, from the unwritten laws that govern children. +Whether they are loved or unloved has no bearing upon this desire +to test their wings, to try this new adventure, to take this leap +into the dark. + +Spurlock possessed a vigorous intellect, critical, disquisitional, +creative; and yet he saw nothing remarkable in the girl's readiness +to marry him! An obsession is a blind spot. + +"We must marry at once! The doctor may put me on the boat and force +you to remain behind, otherwise." + +"And you want me to find a minister?" she asked, with ready +comprehension. + +"That's it!"--eagerly. "Bring him back with you. Some of the hotel +guests can act as witnesses. Make haste!" + +Ruth hurried off to her own room. Before she put on her sun-helmet, +she paused before the mirror. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the +spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. + +"All I want is to be happy!" she said aloud, as if she were asking +for something of such ordinary value that God would readily accord +it to her because there was so little demand for the commodity. + +Thrilling, she began to dance, swirled, glided, and dipped. +Whenever ecstasy--any kind of ecstasy--filled her heart to +bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. + +Fate has two methods of procedure--the sudden and the +long-drawn-out. In some instances she tantalizes the victim for +years and mocks him in the end. In others, she acts with the speed +and surety of the loosed arrow. In the present instance she did not +want any interference; she did not want the doctor's wisdom to edge +in between these two young fools and spoil the drama. So she brought +upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, +worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and +daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. Ruth met him in +the hall as he was following his family into the dining room. She +recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness +of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. + +"To be sure I will, my child. I will be up with my wife and +daughter after lunch." + +"We'll be waiting for you. You are very kind." Ruth turned back +toward the stairs. + +Later, when the Reverend Henry Dolby entered the Spurlock room, his +wife and daughter trailing amusedly behind him, and beheld the +strained eagerness on the two young faces, he smiled inwardly and +indulgently. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had +been he neither cared nor craved to know. Their future would be +glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their +young heads. Of course, at home there would have been questions. +Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been +procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of +wedlock were necessary. + +So, forthwith, without any preliminaries beyond introductions, he +began the ceremony; and shortly Ruth Enschede became Ruth Spurlock, +for better or for worse. Spurlock gave his full name and +tremblingly inscribed it upon the certificate of marriage. + +The customary gold band was missing; but a soft gold Chinese ring +Spurlock had picked up in Singapore--the characters representing +good luck and prosperity--was slipped over Ruth's third finger. + +"There is no fee," said Dolby. "I am very happy to be of service to +you. And I wish you all the happiness in the world." + +Mrs. Dolby was portly and handsome. There were lines in her face +that age had not put there. Guiding this man of hers over the +troubled sea of life had engraved these lines. He was the true +optimist; and that he should proceed, serenely unconscious of reefs +and storms, she accepted the double buffets. + +This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. +Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she +felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room--if only in the +loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands +of miles from home. Not once during the ceremony did the two look +at each other, but riveted their gaze upon the lips of the man who +was forging the bands: gazed intensively, as if they feared the +world might vanish before the last word of the ceremony was spoken. + +Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. Ruth +felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. She bent down. + +"You are all right?"--anxiously. + +"Yes ... but dreadfully tired." + +Mrs. Dolby smiled. It was the moment for smiles. She approached +Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into +that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. + +These passers-by who touch us but lightly and are gone, leaving the +eternal imprint! So long as she lived, Ruth would always remember +that embrace. It was warm, shielding, comforting, and what was +more, full of understanding. It was in fact the first embrace of +motherhood she had ever known. Even after this woman had gone, it +seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. + +Inexplicably there flashed into vision the Chinese wedding +procession in the narrow, twisted streets of the city, that first +day: the gorgeous palanquin, the tom-toms, the weird music, the +ribald, jeering mob that trailed along behind. It was surely odd +that her thought should pick up that picture and recast it so +vividly. + +At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend +McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. + +"It's a great world," was the manager's greeting. + +"So it is," the doctor agreed. "But what, may I ask, arouses the +thought?" + +The doctor was in high good humour. Within forty-eight hours the +girl would be on her way east and the boy see-sawing the South +China Sea, for ever moving at absolute angles. + +"Then you haven't heard?" + +"Of what?" + +"Well, well!" cried the manager, delighted at the idea of +surprising the doctor. "Miss Enschede and Mr. Spurlock--for that's +his real name--were married at high noon." + +Emptiness; that was the doctor's initial sensation: his vitals had +been whisked out of him and the earth from under his feet. All his +interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be +translated into a single word--love. Wanted her out of the way +because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at +fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and +unreasoning anger. He took the first step toward the stairs, and +met the restraining hand of McClintock. + +"Steady, old top! What are you going to do?" + +"The damned scoundrel!" + +"I told you that child was opal." + +"She? My God, the pity of it! She knows nothing of life. She no +more realizes what she has done than a child of eight. Marriage! +... without the least conception of the physical and moral +responsibilities! It's a crime, Mac!" + +"But what can you do?" McClintock turned to the manager. "'It was +all perfectly legal? + +"My word for it. The Reverend Henry Dolby performed the cermony, +and his wife and daughter were witnesses." + +"When you heard what was going on, why didn't you send for me?" + +"I didn't know it was going on. I heard only after it was all +over." + +"If he could stand on two feet, I'd break every bone in his +worthless body!" + +McClintock said soothingly: "But that wouldn't nullify the +marriage, old boy. I know. Thing's upset you a bit. Go easy." + +"But, Mac . . . !" + +"I understand," interrupted McClintock. Then, in a whisper: "But +there's no reason why the whole hotel should." + +The doctor relaxed. "I've got to see him; but I'll be reasonable. +I've got to know why. And what will they do, and where will they +go?" + +"With me--the both of them. So far as I'm concerned, nothing could +please me more. A married man!--the kind I've never been able to +lure down there! But keep your temper in check. Don't lay it all to +the boy. The girl is in it as deeply as he is. I'll wait for you +down here." + +When the doctor entered the bedroom and looked into the faces of +the culprits, he laughed brokenly. Two children, who had been +caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay +doubt and fear. + +Ruth came to him directly. "You are angry?" + +"Very. You don't realize what you have done." + +"My courage gave out. The thought of going back!--the thought of +the unknown out there!--" with a tragic gesture toward the east. "I +couldn't go on!" + +"You'll need something more than courage now. But no more of that. +What is done cannot be undone. I want to talk to Mr. Spurlock. Will +you leave us for a few minutes?" + +"You are not going to be harsh?" + +"I wish to talk about the future." + +"Very well." + +She departed reluctantly. The doctor walked over to the bed, folded +his arms across his chest and stared down into the unabashed eyes +of his patient. + +"Do you realize that you are several kinds of a damned scoundrel?" +he began. This did not affect Spurlock. "Your name is Spurlock?" + +"It is." + +"Why did you use the name of Taber?" + +"To keep my real name out of the mess I expected to make of myself +over here." + +"That's frank enough," the doctor admitted astonishedly. So far the +boy's mind was clear. "But to drag this innocent child into the +muck! With her head full of book nonsense--love stories and fairy +stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble +upon some day? I don't care about you. The world is known to you. I +can see that you were somebody, in another day. But this child! ... +It's a damnable business!" + +"I shall defend her and protect her with every drop of blood in my +body!" replied the Flagellant. + +The intensity of the eyes and the defiant tone bewildered the +doctor, who found his well-constructed jeremiad without a platform. +So he was forced to shift and proceed at another angle, forgetting +his promise to McClintock to be temperate. + +"When I went through your trunk that first night, I discovered an +envelope filled with manuscripts. Later, at the bottom of that +envelope I found a letter." + +"To be opened in case of my death," added Spurlock. From under his +pillow he dragged forth the key to the trunk. "Here, take this and +get the letter and open and read it. Would you tell her ... now?" +his eyes flaming with mockery. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. The act was +mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching +about for a new vent. He was a just man, and he did not care to +start any thunder which was not based upon fairness. He had no wish +to go foraging in Spurlock's trunk. He had already shown the +covering envelope and its instructions to Ruth, and she had ignored +or misunderstood the warning. The boy was right. Ruth could not be +told now. There would be ultimate misery, but it would be needless +cruelty to give her a push toward it. But all these hours, trying +to teach the child wariness toward life, and the moment his back +was turned, this! + +He was, perhaps, still dazed by the inner revelation--his own +interest in Ruth. The haste to send her upon her way now had but +one interpretation--the recognition of his own immediate danger, +the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in +offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had +happened--the love of a man who was in all probability older than +her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so +ridiculous. + +He would talk to Spurlock, but from the bench; as a judge, not as a +chagrined lover. He dropped the key on the counterpane. + +"If I could only make you realize what you have done," he said, +lamely. + +"I know exactly what I have done," replied Spurlock. "She is my +lawful wife." + +"I should have opened that letter in the beginning," said the +doctor. "But I happen to be an honest man myself. Had you died, I +should have fully obeyed the instructions on that envelope. You +will make her suffer." + +"For every hurt she has, I shall have two. I did not lay any traps +for her. I asked her to marry me, and she consented." + +"Ah, yes; that's all very well. But when she learns that you are a +fugitive from justice...." + +"What proof have you that I am?"--was the return bolt. + +"A knowledge of the ways of men. I don't know what you have done; I +don't want to know now. But God will punish you for what you have +done this day." + +"As for that, I don't say. But I shall take care of Ruth, work for +her and fight for her." A prophecy which was to be fulfilled in a +singular way. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. I'm no +mollycoddle. I have only one question to ask you." + +"And what might that be?" + +"Will McClintock take us both?" + +"You took that chance. There has never been a white woman at +McClintock's." + +He paused, and not without malice. He was human. The pause +lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the +set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. + +"You begin to have doubts, eh? A handful of money between you, and +nothing else. There are only a few jobs over here for a man of your +type; and even these are more or less hopeless if you haven't +trained mechanical ability." Then he became merciful. "But +McClintock agrees to take you both--because he's as big a fool as I +am. But I give you this warning, and let it sink in. You will be +under the eye of the best friend I have; and if you do not treat +that child for what she is--an innocent angel--I promise to hunt +you across the wide world and kill you with bare hands." + +Spurlock's glance shot up, flaming again. "And on my part, I shall +not lift a hand to defend myself." + +"I wish I could have foreseen." + +"That is to say, you wish you had let me die?" + +"That was the thought." + +This frankness rather subdued Spurlock. His shoulders relaxed and +his gaze wavered. "Perhaps that would have been best." + +"But what, in God's name, possessed you? You have already wrecked +your own life and now you've wrecked hers. She doesn't love you; +she hasn't the least idea what it means beyond what she has read in +novels. The world isn't real yet; she hasn't comparisons by which +to govern her acts. I am a physician first, which gives the man in +me a secondary part. You have just passed through rather a severe +physical struggle; just as previously to your collapse you had gone +through some terrific mental strain. Your mind is still subtly +sick. The man in me would like to break every bone in your body, +but the physician understands that you don't actually realize what +you have done. But in a little while you will awake; and if there +is a spark of manhood in you, you will be horrified at this day's +work." + +Spurlock closed his eyes. Expiation. He felt the first sting of the +whip. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the +sensation of exaltation. + +"If you two loved each other," went on the doctor, "there would be +something to stand on--a reason why for this madness. I can fairly +understand Ruth; but you...!" + +"Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in +anguish? Twenty-four hours a day to think in, alone?... Perhaps I +did not want to go mad from loneliness. I will tell you this much, +because you have been kind. It is true that I do not love Ruth; but +I swear to you, before the God of my fathers, that she shall never +know it!" + +"I'll be getting along." The doctor ran his fingers through his +hair, despairingly. "A hell of a muddle! But all the talk in the +world can't undo it. I'll put you aboard _The Tigress_ to-morrow +after sundown. But remember my warning, and play the game!" + +Spurlock closed his eyes again. The doctor turned quickly and made +for the door, which he opened and shut gently because he was +assured that Ruth was listening across the hall for any sign of +violence. He had nothing more to say either to her or to Spurlock. +All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what +was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up +in his own lonely heart. + +Opals. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the +truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women +who make havoc with the hearts of men. + +Marriage!--and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The +shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly--and +bitterly. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some +hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become +a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an +object of pity and contempt. + +There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful +shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. The picture might +easily apply to _The Tigress_: outwardly disreputable, but richly +and comfortably appointed below. The flush deck was without wells. +The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a +spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. Amidship +there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and +dirty. + +The dining saloon was done in mahogany and sandalwood, with eight +cabins, four to port and four to starboard. The bed-and table-linen +were of the finest texture. From the centre of the ceiling hung a +replica of the temple lamp in the Taj Mahal. The odour of coconut +prevailed, delicately but abidingly; for, save for the occasioned +pleasure junket, _The Tigress_ was a copra carrier, shell and fibre. + +McClintock's was a plantation of ten thousand palms, yielding him +annually about half a million nuts. Natives brought him an equal +amount from the neighbouring islands. As the palm bears nuts +perennially, there were always coconut-laden proas making the +beach. Thus, McClintock carried to Copeley's press about half a +million pounds of copra. There was a very substantial profit in the +transaction, for he paid the natives in commodities--coloured +cotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, household +utensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. It was perfectly legitimate. +Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all +concerned.. A native sold his supply of nuts in exchange for cloth, +tobacco and so forth. In the South Seas, money is the eliminated +middleman. + +Where the islands are grouped, men discard the use of geographical +names and simply refer to "McClintock's" or "Copeley's," to the +logical dictator of this or that island. + + * * * * * + +At sundown Spurlock was brought aboard and put into cabin 2, while +Ruth was assigned to cabin 4, adjoining. From the Sha-mien to the +yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the +semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. + +Now that she was his, to make or mar, she presented an +extraordinary fascination. She had suddenly become as the jewels of +the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, +sacred. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer +absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had +put her outside that circle. His lawful wife; but nothing more; +beyond that she was only an idea, a trust. + +An incredible road he had elected to travel; he granted that it was +incredible; and along this road somewhere would be Desire. There +were menacing possibilities; the thought of them set him a-tremble. +What would happen when confronted by the actual? He was young; she +was also young and physically beautiful--his lawful wife. He had +put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a +vestal in the temple. Such was the condition of his mind that the +danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. Here would be the +true test of his strength. Upon this island whither he was bound +there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be +constant. + +All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this +phase which was wholly suppositional. He did not love Ruth. They +would be partners only in loneliness. He would provide the +necessities of life and protect her. He would teach her all he knew +of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she +would be able to defend herself. He was always anticipating, +stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent +troubles. These cogitations were interrupted by the entrance of the +doctor. + +"Good-bye, young man; and good luck." + +"You are offering your hand to me?" + +"Without reservations." The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendly +pressure. "Buck up! While there's life there's hope. Play fair with +her. You don't know what you have got; I do. Let her have her own +way in all things, for she will always be just." + +Spurlock turned aside his head as he replied: "Words are sometimes +useless things. I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I +could make you understand." + +"Probably not. The thing is done. The main idea now is of the +future. You will have lots of time on your hands. Get out your pad +and pencil. Go to it. Ruth will be a gold mine for a man of your +peculiar bent." + +"You read those yarns?" Spurlock's head came about, and there was +eagerness in his eyes. "Rot, weren't they?" + +"No. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create +yet. Go to it; and the best of luck!" + +He went out. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to +him. There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands +physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. He +proceeded to the deck, where Ruth and McClintock were waiting for +him by the ladder. He handed Ruth a letter. + +"What is this?" she wanted to know. + +"A hundred dollars which was left from your husband's money." + +"Would you be angry if I offered it to you?" + +"Very. Don't worry about me." + +"You are the kindest man I have ever known," said Ruth, unashamed +of her tears. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you. It is +useless to talk. I could never make you understand." + +Almost the identical words of the boy. "Will you write," asked the +doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" + +"Oh, yes!" + +"The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; +get him started with his writing. Remember, some day you and I are +going to have that book." He patted her hand. "Good-bye, Mac. Don't +forget to cut out all effervescent water. If you will have your +peg, take it with plain water. You'll be along next spring?" + +"If the old tub will float. I'll watch over these infants, if +that's your worry. Good-bye." + +The doctor went down the side to the waiting sampan, which at once +set out for the Sha-mien. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the +rocking light until it vanished. One more passer-by; and always +would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. +She was quite assured that she would never see him again. + +"Yon's a dear man," said McClintock. His natal burr was always in +evidence when he was sentimentally affected. He knocked his pipe on +the teak rail. "Took a great fancy to you. Wants me to look out for +you a bit. I take it, down where we're going will be nothing new to +you. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player." + +"Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" + +"No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. +Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. I'm a bit daffy +about music." + +"That sounds funny ... to play it with your feet!" + +McClintock laughed. "It's a pump, like an organ." + +"Oh, I see. What a wonderful world it is!" Music. She shuddered. + +"Ay. Well, I'll be getting this tub under way." + +Ruth walked to the companion. It was one of those old sliding trap +affairs, narrow and steep of descent. She went down, feeling rather +than seeing the way. The door of cabin 2 was open. Someone had +thoughtfully wrapped a bit of tissue paper round the electric bulb. + +She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold +and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. In the +subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. +Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a +hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the +position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the +divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written +with her heart's blood. + +What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the +divine fire was hers. + +"Ruth?" he called. + +She entered and approached the bunk. "I thought you were asleep. Is +there anything you want?" She laid her hand on his forehead, and +found it without fever. She had worried in fear that the excitement +would be too much for him. + +"Call me Hoddy. That is what my mother used to call me." + +"Hoddy," she repeated. "I shall like to call you that. But now you +must be quiet; there's been too much excitement. Knock on the +partition if you want anything during the might. I awaken easily. +Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. + +For a long time he stared at the empty doorway. He heard the +panting of the donkey-engine, then the slithering of the anchor +chains. Presently he felt motion. He chuckled. The vast ironic +humour of it: he was starting on his honeymoon! + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Meanwhile the doctor, upon returning to his office, found Ah Cum in +the waiting room. "Why, hello, Ah Cum! What's the trouble?" + +Ah Cum took his hands from his sleeves. "I should like to know +where Mr. Spurlock has gone." + +"Did he owe you money?" + +"Oh, no!" + +"Then why do you wish to know?" + +Ah Cum pondered. "I have a client who is very much interested in +Mr. Spurlock. He was here shortly after the young man was taken +ill." + +"Ah. What was this man?" + +"A detective from the States." + +"Why didn't he arrest Mr. Spurlock then?" + +"I imagine that Mr. O'Higgins is rather a kindly man. He couldn't +have taken Mr. Spurlock back to Hong-Kong with him, so he +considered it would be needless to give an additional shock. He +asked me to watch Mr. Spurlock's movements and report progress. He +admitted that it would bore him to dally here in Canton, with the +pleasures of Hong-Kong so close." + +The doctor caught the irony, and he warmed a little. "I'm afraid I +must decline to tell you. Do you know what Spurlock has done?" + +"Mr. O'Higgins did not confide in me. But he told me this much, +that no matter how far Mr. Spurlock went, it would not be far +enough." + +A detective. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. How +easily an evil thought could penetrate a normally decent mind! All +he had to do was to disclose Spurlock's destination, and in a few +months Ruth would be free. For it was but logical that she would +seek a divorce on the ground that she had unknowingly married a +fugitive from justice. McClintock would be on hand to tell her how +and where to obtain this freedom. He stopped abruptly before the +apparently incurious Chinaman. + +"Your detective has been remiss in his duty; let him suffer for +it." + +"Personally, I am neutral," said Ah Cum. "I wish merely to come out +of this bargain honourably. It would make the young wife unhappy." + +"Very." + +"There was a yacht in the river?" + +"I have nothing to say." + +"By the name of _The Tigress_?" + +The doctor smiled, but shook his head. He sent a speculative glance +at the immobile yellow face. Was Ah Cum offering him an opportunity +to warn Spurlock? But should he warn the boy? Why not let him +imagine himself secure? The thunderbolt would be launched soon +enough. + +"I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word." + +"Then I wish you good night." + +Ah Cum went directly to the telegraph office, and his message was +devoted particularly to a description of _The Tigress_. Spurlock +had been taken aboard that yacht with the Kanaka crew, because _The +Tigress_ was the only ship marked for departure that night. Ah Cum +was not a sailor, but he knew his water-front. One of his chair +coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher +to the sampan in the canal. There were three other ships at anchor; +but as two would be making Shanghai and one rounding to Singapore +two days hence, it was logically certain that no fugitive would +seek haven in one of these. + +But whither _The Tigress_ was bound or who the owner was lay beyond +the reach of Ah Cum's deductions. He did not particularly care. It +was enough that Spurlock had been taken aboard _The Tigress_. + +He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. +He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. The Victoria was +Ah Cum's bread and butter. + +The telegram dispatched, his obligation cancelled, Ah Cum proceeded +homeward, chuckling occasionally. The Yale spirit! + +James Boyle O'Higgins was, as the saying goes, somewhat out of +luck. Ah Cum's wire reached the Hong-Kong Hotel promptly enough; +but O'Higgins was on board a United States cruiser, witnessing a +bout between a British sailor and a sergeant in the U.S. Marines. +It was a capital diversion; and as usual the Leatherneck bested the +Britisher, in seven rounds. O'Higgins returned to town and made a +night of it, nothing very wild, nothing very desperate. A modest +drinking bout which had its windup in a fan-tan house over in +Kowloon, where O'Higgins tussled with varying fortune until five in +the morning. + +When he was given the telegram he flew to the Praya, engaged the +fast motor-boat he had previously bespoken against the need, and +started for the Macao Passage, with the vague hope of speaking _The +Tigress_. He hung round those broad waters from noon until three +and realized that he had embarked upon a wild-goose chase. Still, +his conscience was partly satisfied. He made Hong-Kong at dusk: +wet, hungry, and a bit groggy for the want of sleep; but he was in +no wise discouraged. The girl was in the game now, and that +narrowed the circle. + +The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a +black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. When the doctor came +in--he had just finished his breakfast--O'Higgins rose and +presented his card. Upon reading the name, the doctor's eyebrows +went up. + +"I rather fancy, as you Britishers say, that you know the nature of +my visit?" + +"I'm an American." + +"Fine!" said O'Higgins, jovially. "We won't have any trouble +understanding each other; same language. There's nothing on the +card to indicate it, but I'm a detective." + +O'Higgins threw out his chest, gave it a pat, and smiled. This +smile warned the doctor not to underestimate the man. O'Higgins was +all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky +policeman in civilian clothes. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded +eyes--now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard--the bullet head, the +pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation +with the doctor's olden mental picture. + +"Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. + +The doctor laughed. But he sobered instantly as he recollected that +O'Higgins had found Spurlock once. Journeying blindly half way +across the world, this man had found his quarry. + +"I never wear false whiskers," went on O'Higgins. "The only +disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a +pig at a Mahomedan dinner." O'Higgins was disarming the doctor. +"Won't you sit down?" + +"I beg your pardon! Come into the consultation office"; and the +doctor led the way. "What is it you want of me?" + +"All you know about this young fellow Spurlock." + +"What has he done?" + +"He has just naturally peeved his Uncle Sam. Now, you know where he +is bound." + +"Did Ah Cum advise you?" + +"He did pretty well for a Chinaman. But that's his American +education. Now, it won't do a bit of good to warn Spurlock. He +carries with him something that will mark him anywhere--the girl. +Say, that girl fooled me at first glance. You see, we guys bump up +against so much of the seamy side that we look upon everybody as +guilty until proved innocent, which is hind-side-to. The second +look told me I was wrong." + +"I'm going to put one question," interrupted the doctor. "Was there +any other woman back there in the States?" + +"Nary a female. Oh, they are married fast. What are you going to +tell me?" + +"Nothing." But the doctor softened the refusal by smiling. + +"For the sake of the girl. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. +If the boy was legging it alone...." + +"I'm a doctor. I took him out of the hands of death. Unless he has +killed someone. I sha'n't utter a word." + +"Killed someone?" O'Higgins laughed. "He wouldn't hurt a rabbit." + +"You won't tell me what he has done?" + +"If you'll tell me where he's heading." + +"You can give me a little of his history, can't you? Something +about his people?" + +"Oh, his folks were all right. His father and mother are gone now. +Rich folks, once. The boy had all kinds of opportunity; but it's +the old story of father making it too easy. It's always hard work +for a rich man's son to stand alone. Then you won't tell me where +he's going?" + +"I will tell you six months from now." + +"Prolonging the misery. Unless he deserts the girl, he won't be so +hard to find as formerly. You see, it's like this. The boss says to +me: 'Higg, here's a guy we want back. He's down in Patagonia +somewhere.' So I go to Patagonia. I know South America and Canada +like the lines in my hand. This is my first venture over here. The +point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man. Sure, I lose one +occasionally--if he stays in New York. But if he starts a long jog, +his name is Dennis. You may not know it, but it's easier to find a +guy that's gone far than it is when he lays dogo in little old New +York." + +"You had Spurlock once." + +O'Higgins grinned. "Women are always balling up and muddling clean +cases. If this girl hadn't busted into the game, Spurlock would +still be at the hotel." + +The doctor was forced to admit the truth of this. Ruth out of the +picture, he wouldn't have concerned himself so eagerly in regard to +Spurlock's departure. + +"I'm sorry, Mr. O'Higgins, but I decline to give you the least +information." + +The detective ruefully inspected the scarlet band on his perfecto. +"And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it +over with. Well-born, well-educated; those are the lads that pay in +full." + +"You're a philosopher, too. I'll tell you something. One of the +reasons why I decline to talk is this: that boy's punishment will +be enough." + +"That's not my game. They order me to get my man, and I get him. +There ends my duty. What they do with him afterward is off my +ticket, no concern of James Boyle; they can lock him up or let him +go. Say, how about this Ah Cum: is he honest?" + +"As the day is long." + +"Didn't know but what I'd been out-bid. I offered him a hundred to +watch Spurlock. Fifty in advance. This morning I met him at the +dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. A queer nut. Imagine +any one on this side refusing fifty bucks! Well, I'll be toddling +along. Don't feel fussed upon my account. I get your side all +right. H'm!" + +Over the desk, on the wall, was a map of the South Pacific +archipelagoes, embossed by a number of little circles drawn in red +ink. O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully. + +"That's your hunting ground," said the doctor. + +"It's a whale of a place. Ten thousand islands, and each one good +for a night's rest. Why, that boy could hide for thirty +years--without the girl. She's my meal-ticket. What are those little +red circles?" O'Higgins asked, rising and inspecting the map. A film +of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. For a moment +O'Higgins had hoped that the ink applications would be recent. +"Been to those places?" + +"No. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip +never materialized. Too busy." + +"That's the way it goes. Well, I'll take myself off. But if I were +you, I shouldn't warn Spurlock. Let him have his honeymoon. So +long." + +For a long time after O'Higgins had gone the doctor rocked in his +swivel chair, his glance directed at the map. In all his life he +had never realized a dream; but the thought had never before hurt +him. The Dawn Pearl. It did not seem quite fair. He had plugged +along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. And then this +girl had to sweep into and out of his life! He recalled +McClintock's comment about Spurlock being the kind that fell soft. +Even this man-hunting machine was willing to grant the boy his +honeymoon. + +Meantime, O'Higgins wended his way to the Victoria, mulling over +this and that phase, all matters little and big that bore upon the +chase. Mac's. In one of the little red circles the doctor had +traced that abbreviation. That could signify nothing except that +the doctor had a friend down there somewhere, on an island in one +of those archipelagoes. But the sheer immensity of the tract! James +Boyle was certainly up against it, hard. One chance in a thousand, +and that would be the girl. She wouldn't be able to pass by +anywhere without folks turning their heads. + +Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. But what the deuce! He +was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt. He had found +Spurlock. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as +in the lock-up. Why shouldn't James Boyle pinch out a little fun +while waiting? How was he to anticipate the girl and the sea-tramp +called _The Tigress_? Something that wasn't in the play at all but +had walked out of the scenery like the historical black cat? + +"I'll have to punish a lot of tobacco to get the kinks out of this. +Sure Mike!" + +At the hotel he wrote a long letter to his chief, explaining every +detail of the fizzle. Later he dispatched a cable announcing the +escape and the sending of the letter. When he returned to Hong-Kong, +there was a reply to his cable: + +"Hang on. Find that boy." + +Some order. South America was big; but ten thousand islands, +scattered all over the biggest ocean on the map! Nearly all of them +clear of the ship lanes and beaten tracks! The best thing he could +do would be to call up the Quai d'Orsay and turn over the job to +Lecocq. Only a book detective could dope this out. + +What he needed most in this hour was a bottle of American rye-whisky +and a friendly American bar-keep to talk to. He regretted now that +in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. The +barmaids had too strongly appealed to his sense of novelty. So he +marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable +discovery. If there was a Yankee bar-keep in Hong-Kong, James Boyle +would soon locate him. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an +American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the +proper meed of sympathy. + +The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. The hotel on the Peak had +the aspect of a fairy castle. The streets were full of colour. +O'Higgins wandered into this street and that, studying the signs +and resenting the Britisher's wariness in using too much tin and +paint. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross +streets. + +Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. + +"Solid ivory!" he said aloud; "solid from dome to neck! That's +James Boyle in the family group. And if I hadn't been thirsty, that +poor boob would have made a sure getaway and left James Boyle high +and dry among the moth-balls! Oh, the old dome works once every so +often. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" + +What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a +window. Marine Insurance. Here was a hole as wide as a church-door. +What could be simpler than, with a set of inquiries relative to a +South Sea tramp registered as _The Tigress_, to make a tour of all +the marine insurance companies in Hong-Kong? O'Higgins proceeded to +put the idea into action; and by noon he had in his possession a +good working history of the owner of _The Tigress_ and the exact +latitude and longitude of his island. + +He cabled to New York: "Probable destination known." + +"Make it positive," was the brisk reply. + +O'Higgins made it positive; but it required five weeks of broken +voyages: with dilapidated hotels, poor food, poor tobacco, and +evil-smelling tramps. It took a deal of thought to cast a +comprehensive cable, for it had to include where Spurlock was, what +he was doing, and the fact that O'Higgins's letter of credit would +not now carry him and Spurlock to San Francisco. The reply he +received this time put him into a state of continuous bewilderment. + +"Good work. Come home alone." + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind +him, shutting out the old world. He was safe, out of the beaten +track, at last really comparable to the needle in the haystack. The +terrific mental tension of the past few months--that had held his +bodily nourishment in a kind of strangulation--became as a dream; +and now his vitals responded rapidly to food and air. On the second +day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, +his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the +foremast and back. The will to live had returned. + +For five days _The Tigress_ chugged her way across the burnished +South China, grumpily, as if she resented this meddling with her +destiny. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new +thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally +she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they +called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and +threatened to ruin her temper. + +On the sixth day, however, they made the strong southwest trade, +and broke out the canvas, stout if dirty; and _The Tigress_ +answered as a bird released. Taking the wind was her business in +life. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way +of yawning when she awoke. + +The sun-canvas was stowed; and Spurlock's chair was set forward the +foremast, where the bulging jib cast a sliding blue shadow over +him. Rather a hazardous spot for a convalescent, and McClintock had +been doubtful at first; but Spurlock declared that he was a good +sailor, which was true. He loved the sea, and could give a good +account of himself in any weather. And this was an adventure of +which he had dreamed from boyhood: aboard a windjammer on the South +Seas. + +There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. There were swift +actions, too: a Kanaka crawled out upon the bowsprit to make taut a +slack stay, while two others with pulley-blocks swarmed aloft. +Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. The +sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had +ever seen. Every so often a wall of water, thin and jade-coloured, +would rise up over the port bow, hesitate, and fall smacking +amidships. Once the ship faltered, and the tip of this jade wall +broke into a million gems and splashed him liberally. Ruth, +standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. + +This laughter released something that had been striving for +expression--her own natural buoyancy. She became as _The Tigress_, +a free thing. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and +laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. There was no past, no +future, only this exhilarating present. Yesterday!--who cared? +To-morrow!--who knew? + +"Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. + +"Fox-terriers of the sea; friends with every ship that comes along. +Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. + +"When you are stronger we'll go up to the cutwater and watch them +from there." + +"I have . . . from many ships." + +A shadow, which was not cast by the jib, fell upon them both. His +voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood +that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. But +she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, +enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. + +What had actually beaten him was not to have known if someone had +picked up his trail. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated +his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. But that was all over. +Nobody could possibly find him now. The doctor would never betray +him. He might spend the rest of his days at McClintock's in perfect +security. + +McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. "Well, +how goes it?" he asked. + +"Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand. + +McClintock, without comment, accepted the hand. He rather liked the +"sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. + +"And I want to thank you, too," supplemented Ruth. + +"Tut, tut! Don't exaggerate. I needed a man the worst kind of way--a +man I could keep for at least six months. What do you think of the +old tub?" + +"She's wonderful!" cried Ruth. "I love her already. I had no idea +she could go so fast." + +"Know anything about ships?" + +"This kind. I have seen many of them. Once a sick sailor drew three +pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and +sail--square-rigger, schooner, and sloop. But this is the first time +I ever sailed on any one of the three. And I find I can't tell one +stay from another!" + +McClintock laughed. "You can't go to sea with a book of rules. _The +Tigress_ is second-hand, built for coast-trade. There used to be an +after deckhouse and a shallow well for the wheel; but I changed +that. Wanted a clean sweep for elbow-room. Of course I ought to +have some lights over the saloon; but by leaving all the cabin +doors open in the daytime, there's plenty of daylight. She's not +for pleasure, but for work. Some day I'm going to paint her; but +that will be when I've retired." + +Ruth laughed. "The doctor said something about that." + +"I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. Natives are +queer. I have established a fine trade. She is known everywhere +within the radius of five hundred miles. But if I painted her as +I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have +to build up confidence all over again. I did not know you spoke +Kanaka," he broke off. + +"So the wheelman told you? I've always spoken it, though I can +neither read nor write it." + +"I never heard of anybody who could," declared McClintock. "I have +had Kanakas who could read and write in Dutch, and English, though. +The Kanaka--which means man--is a Sandwich Islander, with a Malayan +base. He's the only native I trust in these parts. My boys are all +Sandwich Island born. I wouldn't trust a Malay, not if he were +reared in the Vatican." + +Spurlock, who was absorbing this talk thirstily, laughed. + +"What's that?" demanded McClintock. + +"The idea of a Malay, born Mahometan, being reared in the Vatican, +hit me as funny." + +"It would be funny--just as a trustworthy Malay would be funny. I +have a hundred of them--mixed blood--on my island, and they are +always rooking me. But none ever puts his foot on this boat. +To-morrow we'll raise our first island. And from then on we'll see +them, port and starboard, to the end of the voyage. I've opened the +case of books. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon. Take +your pick, Mrs. Spurlock." + +The shock of hearing this title pronounced was equally distributed +between Ruth and her husband; but it aroused two absolutely +different emotions. There came to Spurlock the recurrence of the +grim resolution of what he had set out to do: that comradeship was +all he might ever give this exquisite creature; for she was +exquisite, and in a way she dominated this picture of sea and sky +and sail. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in +this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would +always be needing her. + +"You will be wanting your broth, Hoddy," she said. "I'll fetch it." + +She made the companion without touching stay or rail, which +necessitated a fine sense of balance, for there was a growing +vigour to the wind and a corresponding lift to the roll of the sea. +The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed +flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in +silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. + +Silk. In Singapore that had been her only dissipation: a dozen +pairs of silk stockings. She did not question or analyze the +craving; she took the plunge joyously. It was the first expression +of the mother's blood. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; +it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have +her bit of silk. + +McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished +below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who +had closed his eyes. She would always be waiting upon this boy, he +mused. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the +habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become +the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. He wondered if +the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic +lottery called marriage. Probably hadn't. As for that, what man +ever had? + +"That's a remarkable young woman," he offered, merely to note what +effect it would have. + +Spurlock looked up. "She's glorious!" He knew that he must hoodwink +this keen-eyed Scot, even as he must hoodwink everybody: publicly, +the devoted husband; privately, the celibate. He was continually +dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had +elected to play. He saw it in book-covers, on the stage. "Did you +ever see the like of her?" + +"No," answered McClintock, gravely. "I wonder how she picked up +Kanaka? On her island they don't talk Kanaka lingo." + +Her island! How well he knew it, thought Spurlock, for all he +lacked the name and whereabouts! Suddenly a new thought arose and +buffeted him. How little he knew about Ruth--the background from +which she had sprung! He knew that her father was a missioner, that +her mother was dead, that she had been born on this island, and +that, at the time of his collapse, she had been on the way to an +aunt in the States. But what did he know beyond these facts? +Nothing, clearly. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the +more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. The +real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the +walls of Agra Fort. But after all, what did it matter whether she +had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and +one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. + +"She tells me there was a Kanaka cook; been in the family as long +as she can remember." + +"I see. I deal with the Malay mostly; but twice a year I visit +islands occupied by the true blacks, recently cured of their +ancient taste for long-pig." + +"What's that?" + +"Think it over," said McClintock, grimly. + +"Good Lord!--cannibals?" + +"Aye. Someday I'll take you down there and have them rig up the +coconut dance for you. The Malays have one, too, but it's a rank +imitation, tom-toms and all. But what I want to get at is this. If +your wife can coach you a bit in native lingo, it will help all +round. I have two Malay clerks in the store; but I'm obliged to +have a white man to watch over them, or they'd clean me out. Single +pearls--Lord knows where they come from!--are always turning up, +some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. My boys +buy them with beads or bolts of calico of mine. They steal over to +Copeley's at night and dispose of the pearl for cash. That's how I +finally got wind of it. Primarily your job will be to balance the +stores against the influx of coconut and keep an eye on these boys. +There'll be busy days and idle. Everything goes--the copra for oil, +the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. If you +fall upon a good pearl, buy it in barter and pay me out of your +salary." + +"Pearls!" + +"Sounds romantic, eh? Well, forty years ago the pearl game +hereabouts was romantic; but there's only one real pearl region +left--the Persian Gulf. In these waters the shell has about given +out. Still, they bob up occasionally. I need a white man, if only +to talk to; and it will be a god send to talk to someone of your +intelligence. The doctor said you wrote." + +"Trying to." + +"Well, you'll have lots of time down there." + +Here Ruth returned with the broth; and McClintock strode aft, +convinced that he was going to have something far more interesting +than books to read. + +Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. He was vaguely +uneasy; he knew not what about. Here was the same Ruth who had left +him a few minutes since: the same outwardly; and yet...! + +On the ninth day Spurlock was up and about; that is, he was strong +enough to walk alone, from the companion to his chair, to lean upon +the rail when the chair grew irksome, to join Ruth and his employer +at lunch and dinner: strong enough to argue about books, music, +paintings. He was, in fact, quite eager to go on living. + +Ruth drank in these intellectual controversies, storing away facts. +What she admired in her man was his resolute defense of his +opinions. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might. But +whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock +broke into saving laughter. + +McClintock would bang his fist upon the table. "I wouldn't give a +betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed +himself in the right. We'll have some fun down there at my place, +Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death." + +"Oh, no!" Ruth protested. "I have so much to learn." + +"Aye," said McClintock, in a tone so peculiar that it sent +Spurlock's glance to his plate. + +"All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said, +divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht. "These +islands that come out of nowhere, like transparent amethyst, that +deepen to sapphire, and then become thickly green! And always the +white coral sand rimming them--emeralds set in pearls!" + +"'A thing of beauty is a joy forever!'" quoted McClintock. "But I +like Bobby Burns best. He's neighbourly; he has a jingle for every +ache and joy I've had." + +So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with +the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the +pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, +exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to +enter the talk. + +"There is something in The Tale of Two Cities that is wonderful," +she said. + +"That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. "The end is the most beautiful +in English literature. 'It is a far, far better thing that I do, +than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, +than I have ever known.' That has always haunted me." + +"I liked that, too," she replied; "but it wasn't that I had in +mind. Here it is." She opened the book which she had brought to the +table. "'A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human +creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to +every other. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at +night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its +own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own +secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of +breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart +nearest it!' ... It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, +first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. "No matter +how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. No +matter how much you tell me, you will always keep something back." + +Neither man spoke. McClintock stared into the bowl of his pipe and +Spurlock into his coffee cup. But McClintock's mind was perceptive, +whereas Spurlock's was only dully confused. The Scot understood +that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a +question, opening a door if he cared to enter. + +So the young fool had not told her! McClintock had suspected as +much. Everything in this world changed--except human folly. This +girl was strong and vital: how would she take it when she learned +that she had cast her lot with a fugitive from justice? For +McClintock was certain that Spurlock was a hunted man. Well, well; +all he himself could do would be to watch this singular drama +unroll. + +The night before they made McClintock's Ruth and Spurlock leaned +over the rail, their shoulders touching. It might have been the +moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have +been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his +hands and kissed her on the mouth. + +"Oh!" she gasped. "I did not know ... that it was ... like that!" +She stepped back; but as his hands fell she caught and held them +tightly. "Please, Hoddy, always tell me when do I things wrong. I +never want you to be ashamed of me. I will do anything and +everything I can to become your equal." + +"You will never become that, Ruth. But if God is kind to me, +someday I may climb up to where you are. I'd like to be alone now. +Would you mind?" + +She wanted another kiss, but she did not know how to go about it; +so she satisfied the hunger by pressing his hands to her thundering +heart. She let them fall and sped to the companion, where she stood +for a moment, the moonlight giving her a celestial touch. Then she +went below. + +Spurlock bent his head to the rail. The twists in his brain had +suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he +knew now exactly what he had done. + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +McClintock's island was twelve miles long and eight miles wide, +with the shape of an oyster. The coconut plantation covered the +west side. From the white beach the palms ran in serried rows +quarter of a mile inland, then began a jungle of bamboo, gum-tree, +sandalwood, plantain, huge fern, and choking grasses. The south-east +end of the island was hillocky, with volcanic subsoil. There was +plenty of sweet water. + +The settlement was on the middle west coast. The stores, the drying +bins, McClintock's bungalows and the native huts sprawled around an +exquisite landlocked lagoon. One could enter and leave by proa, but +nothing with a keel could cross the coral gate. The island had +evidently grown round this lagoon, approached it gradually from the +volcanic upheaval--an island of coral and lava. + +There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and +pomegranate. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but +filled with scarlet honey. This fruit was McClintock's particular +pride. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely +enough, they had prospered. + +"Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you +have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is." + +The lemons had enormously thick skins and were only mildly +acidulous--sweet lemons, they were called; and one found them +delicious by dipping the slices in sugar. + +But there was an abiding serpent in this Eden. McClintock had +brought from Penang three mangosteen evergreens; and, wonders of +wonders, they had thrived--as trees. But not once in these ten +years had they borne blossom or fruit. The soil was identical, the +climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its +purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. One might have said +that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, +refused to bear. + +Of animal life, there was nothing left but monkeys and wild pig, +the latter having been domesticated. Of course there were goats. +There's an animal! He thrives in all zones, upon all manner of +food. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. The +island was snake-free. + +There were all varieties of bird-life known in these latitudes, +from the bird of paradise down to the tiny scarlet-beaked +love-birds. There were always parrots and parrakeets screaming in +the fruit groves. + +The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; +sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in +these waters. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo +drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the +treacherous sunshine. White men never went abroad without helmets. +The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an +invitation to sunstroke. + +Into this new world, vivid with colour, came Spurlock, receptively. +For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the +background. There was so much to see, so much to do, that he became +what he had once been normally, a lovable boy. + +McClintock was amused. He began really to like Spurlock, despite +the shadow of the boy's past, despite his inexplicable attitude +toward this glorious girl. To be sure, he was attentive, +respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless +_camaraderie_ of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang +if all the world knew it. If the boy did not love the girl, why the +devil had he dragged her into this marriage? + +Spurlock was a bit shaky bodily, but his brain was functioning +clearly; and, it might be added, swiftly--as the brain always acts +when confronted by a perplexing riddle. No matter how swiftly he +pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt. Why had Ruth +married _him_? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was +that. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not +love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. Had she too been flying +from something and had accepted this method of escape? But what +frying-pan could be equal to this fire? + +All this led him back to the original circle. He saw the colossal +selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of +abnormality. He had been ill; no matter about that: he recollected +every thought that had led up to it and every act that had +consummated the deed. + +To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense +echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which +tore at his vitals. To make Ruth pay for the whole shot! To wash +away his sin by crucifying her: that was precisely what he had set +about. And God had let him do it! He was--and now he perfectly +understood that he was--treading the queerest labyrinth a man had +ever entered. + +Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor +passion--utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. He +had kissed his wife on the mouth ... and had been horrified! There +was real madness somewhere along this road. + +He was unaware that his illness had opened the way to the inherent +conscience and that the acquired had been temporarily blanketed, or +that there was any ancient fanaticalism in his blood. He saw what +he had done only as it related to Ruth. He would have to go on; he +would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon +himself. + +His salvation--if there was to be any--lay in her ignorance of +life. But she could not live in constant association with him +without having these gaps filled. And when she learned that she had +been doubly cheated, what then? His thoughts began to fall on her +side of the scales, and his own misery grew lighter as he +anticipated hers. He was an imaginative young man. + +Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they +separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes +he would hold her hand in his and pat it. + +"I'll have my cot in here," said Spurlock to Ruth, "where this +table is. You never can tell. I'm likely to get up any time in the +night to work." + +Together they were making habitable the second bungalow, which was +within calling distance of McClintock's. They had scrubbed and +dusted, torn down and hung up until noon. + +"Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her +forehead. She was vaguely happy over this arrangement which put her +in the wing across the middle hall, alone. "This will be very +comfortable." + +"Isn't that lagoon gorgeous? I wonder if there'll be sharks?" + +"Not in the lagoon. Mr. McClintock says they can't get in there, or +at least they never try it." + +"Lord!--think of having sharks for neighbours? Every morning I'll +take a dip into the lagoon. That'll tune me up." + +"But don't ever swim off the main beach without someone with you." + +"I wonder where the deuce I'll be able to get some writing paper? +I'm crazy to get to work again." + +"Probably Mr. McClintock will have some." + +"I sha'n't want these curtains. You take them. The veranda bamboo +will be enough for me." + +He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her +eyes. And the infernal thought of that kiss returned--the softness +of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. He turned +irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of +his old manuscripts. + +"I believe I'll tear them up. So long as they're about, I'll always +be rewriting them and wasting my time." + +"Let me have them." + +"What for? What do you want of them?" + +"Why, they are ... yours. And I don't want anything of yours +destroyed, Hoddy. Those were dreams." + +"All right, then." He shifted the pages together, rolled and thrust +them under her arm. "But don't ever let me see them again. By +George, I forgot! McClintock said there was a typewriter in the +office and that I could have it. I'll dig it up. I'll be feeling +fine in no time. The office is a sight--not one sheet of paper on +another; bills and receipts everywhere. I'll have to put some pep +into the game--American pep. It will take a month to clean up. I've +been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" + +She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her +wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end--in +the veranda chair. All this--the island and its affairs--was an old +story; but her own peculiar distaste had vanished to a point +imperceptible, for she was seeing the island through her husband's +eyes, as in the future she would see all things. + +For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did +not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. Her +heart ached; and that puzzled her. Love was joy, and joyous she was +when alone. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity +encompassed her. + +The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of +something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the +desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone." Man +is a peculiar animal. No matter what the fire and force of his +passion, it falters eventually, and forever after smoulders or goes +out. He has nothing to fall back upon, no substitute; but a woman +always has the mother love. When the disillusion comes, when the +fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't +mind. If she has no children, she goes on loving her husband; but +he is no longer a man but a child. + +A dog appeared unexpectedly upon the threshold. He was yellow and +coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and +wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of +these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. + +"Well, well; look who's here!" cried Spurlock. + +He started toward the dog with the idea of ejecting him, but Ruth +intervened. + +"No, please! It is good luck for a dog to enter your house. Let me +keep him." + +"What? Good Lord, he's alive with fleas! They'll be all over the +place." + +"Please!" + +She dropped the curtains and the manuscripts, knelt and held out +her arms. The dog approached timidly, his tail going furiously. He +suspected a trap. The few whites he had ever known generally +offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. But when +Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in +this house would ever offer him a kick. So he decided to stay. + +"You want him?" + +"Please!" said Ruth. + +"All right. What'll we call him--Rollo?"--ironically. + +"I never had a pet. I never had even a real doll," she added, as +she snuggled the flea-bitten head to her heart. "See how glad he +is!" + +His irony and displeasure subsided. She had never had a pet, never +had a real doll. Here was a little corner of the past--a tragic +corner. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it +struck the child and the grown-up impartially. He must never refuse +her anything which was within his power to grant--anything (he +modified) which did not lead to his motives. + +"You poor child!--you can have all the dogs on the island, if you +want them! Come along to the kitchen, and we'll give Rollo a +tubbing." + +And thus their domesticity at McClintock's began--with the tubbing +of a stray yellow dog. It was an uproarious affair, for Rollo now +knew that he had been grieviously betrayed: they were trying to +kill him in a new way. Nobody will ever know what the fleas +thought. + +The two young fools laughed until they cried. They were drenched +with water and suds. Their laughter, together with the agonized +yowling of the dog, drew a circle of wondering natives; and at +length McClintock himself came over to see what the racket was +about. When he saw, his roars could be heard across the lagoon. + +"You two will have this island by the ears," he said, wiping his +eyes. "Those boys out there think this is some new religious rite +and that you are skinning the dog alive to eat him!" + +The shock of this information loosened Spurlock's grip on the dog, +who bolted out of the kitchen and out of the house, maintaining his +mile-a-minute gait until he reached the jungle muck, where he +proceeded to neutralize the poison with which he had been lathered +by rolling in the muck. + +But they found him on the veranda when they returned from +McClintock's that evening. He had forgiven everybody. From then on +he was Ruth's dog. + +Nothing else so quickly establishes the condition of comradeship as +the sharing of a laughable incident. Certain reserves went down on +both sides. Spurlock discussed the affairs of the island and Ruth +gave him in exchange her adventures with the native girl who was to +be their servant. + +This getting up at dawn--real dawn--and working until seven was a +distinct novelty. From then until four in the afternoon there was +nothing to do--the whole island went to sleep. Even the chattering +monkeys, parrots, and parrakeets departed the fruit groves for the +smelly dark of the jungle. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, +the boys made no effort to unload. They hunted up shady nooks and +went to sleep; but promptly at four they would be at the office, +ready for barter. + +Spurlock had found the typewriter, oiled and cleaned it, and began +to practise on it in the night. He would never be able to compose +upon it, but it would serve to produce the finished work. Above the +work-table was a drop-light--kerosene. The odour of kerosene +permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some +extent by burning native punk in brass jars. + +He was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. He +started a dozen stories, but they all ended in the waste-basket. +Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the +doorway. She crooked her finger. + +"What is it?" + +"The night," she answered. "Come and see the lagoon in the +moonlight." + +He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the +night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. There was +only one sound--the fall of the sea upon the main beach, and even +that said: "Hush! Hush! Hus-s-sh!" Not a leaf stirred, not a shadow +moved. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some +fabulous Grecian temple. + +"Let us sit here," she said, indicating the white sand bordering +the lagoon; "and in a minute or two you will see something quite +wonderful . . . . There!" + +Out of the dark unruffled sapphire of the lagoon came vertical +flashes of burning silver, singly and in groups. + +"What in the world is it?" he asked. + +"Flying fish. Something is feeding upon them. I thought you might +like to see. You might be able to use the picture some day." + +"I don't know." He bent his head to his knees. "Something's wrong. +I can't invent; the thing won't come." + +"Shall I tell you a real story?" + +"Something you have seen?" + +"Yes." + +"Tell it. Perhaps what I need is something to bite in." + +So she told him the adventure of the two beachcombers in the +typhoon, and how they became regenerated by their magnificent +courage. + +"That's tremendous!" he cried. "Lord, if I can only remember to +write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet. "I'll +tackle it to-night!" + +"But it's after ten!" + +"What's that got to do with it? ... The roofs of the native huts +scattering in the wind! ... the absolute agony of the twisting +palms!.... and those two beggars laughing as they breasted death! +Girl, you've gone and done it!" + +He leaned down and caught her by the hand, and then raced with her +to the bungalow. + +Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the +threshold of what they now called his study. There were no doors in +the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and +bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. His pipe hung dead in his +teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. His hand flew across the +paper. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began +another. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window +which gave upon the sea. But she could tell by the dullness of his +eyes that he saw only some inner vision. + +Unobserved, she knelt and kissed the threshold: for she knew what +kisses were now. The curtain tinkled as her head brushed it, but he +neither saw nor heard. + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +Every morning at dawn it was Spurlock's custom to take a plunge in +the lagoon. Ruth took hers in the sea, but was careful never to go +beyond her depth because of the sharks. She always managed to get +back to the bungalow before he did. + +As she came in this morning she saw that the lamp was still burning +in the study; so she stopped at the door. Spurlock lay with his +head on his arms, asleep. The lamp was spreading soot over +everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. She +ran to the lamp and extinguished it. Spurlock slept on. It was +still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note +the number of the last page--fifty-six. + +Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. She tied the obi clumsily about +her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. He did not +move. Mischief bubbled up in her. She set her fingers in the hair +and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that +her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. + +He opened his eyes, protestingly, and beheld the realization of his +dream. He had been dreaming of Ruth--an old recurrency of that +dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the +mountain. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the +dream. He smiled. + +"The Dawn Pearl!" he said, making to recline again. + +But she was relentless. "Hoddy, wake up!" She jerked his head to +and fro until the hair stung. + +"What?... Oh!... Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and +stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. Rollo barked. + +"Go and take your plunge while I attend to breakfast." + +He started to pick up a sheet of manuscript, but she pushed him +from the table toward the doorway; and he staggered out of the +bungalow, suddenly stretched his arms, and broke into a trot. + +Ruth returned to the table. The tropical dawn is swift. She could +now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came +upon the first page. "The Beachcombers." + +Romance! The Seven Seas are hers. She roves the blue fields of the +North, with the clean North Wind on her lips and her blonde head +jewelled with frost--mocking valour and hardihood! Out of the West +she comes, riding the great ships and the endless steel ways that +encompass the earth, and smoke comes with her and the glare of +furnace fires--commerce! From the East she brings strange words +upon her tongue and strange raiment upon her shoulders and the +perfume of myrrh--antiquity! But oh! when she springs from the +South, her rosy feet trailing the lotus, ripe lequats wreathing her +head, in one hand the bright torch of danger and in the other the +golden apples of love, with her eyes full of sapphires and her +mouth full of pearls! + +"With her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of pearls." All +day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts. + +A week later the manuscript was polished and typewritten, ready for +the test. Spurlock felt very well pleased with himself. To have +written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. + +It was at breakfast on this day that he told Ruth he had sent to +Batavia for some dresses. They would arrive sometime in June. + +"That gown is getting shabby." + +Ruth spread out the ruffled skirt, sundrily torn and soiled. "I +haven't worn anything else in weeks. I haven't touched the other." + +"Anything like that?" + +"Yes; but the colour is lavender." + +"Wear that to-night, then. It fits your style. You are very lovely, +Ruth." + +She wanted to dance. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing +fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. +She sat perfectly still, however. + +"I am glad you think that," she replied. "Please tell me whenever I +am at fault." + +"I wish you did have some faults, Ruth. You're an angel of +goodness." + +"No, no! I have had wicked thoughts." + +He laughed and pushed back his chair. "So has the butterfly evil +thoughts. We're to be given a treat to-night. McClintock will be +tuning up the piano to-day. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read +it to McClintock. That old chap has a remarkable range in reading. +But, hang it, I know it's good!" + +"Of course it is!" + +In the afternoon he began work on another tale. It was his purpose +to complete four or five stories before he sent any away. But to-day +he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. From +McClintock's came an infernal _tinkle-tinkle, tump-tump_! There was +no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. But +eventually Spurlock laughed. Not so bad. Battle, murder, and sudden +death--and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the +midst of it. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. + +He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; +and when he had done, the old trader nodded. + +"That's a good story, lad. You've caught the colour and the life. +But it sounds too real to be imagined. You've never seen a typhoon, +have you?" + +"No." + +"Well, imagination beats me!" + +"It's something Ruth saw. She told me the tale the other night, and +I've only elaborated it." + +"Ah, I see." McClintock saw indeed--two things: that the boy had no +conceit and that this odd girl would always be giving. "Well, it's +a good story." + +He offered cigars, and Ruth got up. She always left the table when +they began to smoke. Spurlock had not coached her on this line of +conduct. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do +and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. She hated to +leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. Both Spurlock +and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. + +"Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea +stuff, that yarn of yours. I like the way you shared it. I have +read that authors are very selfish and self-centred." + +"Oh, Ruth couldn't put it on paper, to be sure; but there was no +reason to hide the source." + +"Have you told her?" + +"Told her? Told her what?" Spurlock sat straight in his chair. + +"You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely. "In spots you are +a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad. My +friend the doctor suspected it, and so do I. You are not a tourist +seeking adventure. You have all the earmarks of a fugitive from +justice." + +Spurlock grew limp in his chair. "If you thought that, why did you +give me this job?"--his voice faint and thick. + +"The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance--for her sake. +Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of +it. A child--as innocent as a child! Nothing about life; bemused by +the fairy stories you writers call novels! I don't know what you +have done; I don't care. But you must tell her." + +"I can't! I can't--not now!" + +"Bat!--can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and +forgive? She loves you." + +The walls appeared to rock; bulging shadows reached out; the candle +flames became mocking eyes; and the blood drummed thunderously in +Spurlock's ears. The door to the apocalypse had opened! + +"Loves me? . . . Ruth?" + +"Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she +didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. It was in her +eyes--the big thing that comes but once. But you! Why the devil did +_you_ marry _her_? That's the thing that confounds me." + +"God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's +hand. + +"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. It is +a matter of degree. Lord, I am sixty. For thirty years I have lived +alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. I know life. I sit +back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my +loneliness sweet. I have had my day; and there were women in it. +So, when I tell you she loves you, I know. Supposing they find you +and take you away?--and she unprepared? Have you thought of that? +Why did you marry her?" + +"God alone knows!" + +"And you don't love her! What kind of a woman do you want, +anyhow?"--with rising anger. He saw the tragedy on the boy's face; +but he was merciless. "Are you a poltroon, after all?" + +"That's it! I ought to have died that night!" + +"Or is there a taint of insanity in your family history? Alone and +practically penniless like yourself! You weren't even stirred by +gratitude. You just married her. Lad, that fuddles me!" + +"Did you bring me down here to crucify me?" cried Spurlock, in +passionate rebellion. + +"No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. "Only, what +you have done is out of all human calculation. You did not marry +her because you loved her; you did not marry because she might have +had money; you did not marry her out of gratitude; you did not +marry her because you had to. You just married her! But there she +is--'with her eyes full of sapphires and her mouth full of +pearls'!" McClintock quoted with gentle irony. "What have you got +there in your breast--a stone? Is there blood or water in your +veins?" + +The dam broke, but not with violence. A vast relief filled +Spurlock's heart as he decided to tell this man everything which +related to Ruth. This island was the one haven he had; he might be +forced to remain here for several years--until the Hand had +forgotten him. He must win this man's confidence, even at the risk +of being called mad. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he +told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the +table and bent his head to them. + +There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather +a tableau. The candles--for McClintock never used oil in his dining +room--were burning low in the sconces. Occasionally the flames +would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred +himself. + +McClintock's astonishment merged into a state of mild hypnosis. +That any human being could conceive and execute such a thing! A +Roundhead, here in these prosaic times!--and mad as a hatter! +Trying the rôle of St. Anthony, when God Himself had found only one +man strong enough for that! McClintock shook his head violently, as +if to dismiss this dream he was having. But the objects in his +range of vision remained unchanged. Presently he reached out and +laid his hand upon Spurlock's motionless shoulders. + +"'Tis a cruel thing you've done, lad. Even if you were sick in the +mind and did not understand what you were doing, it's a mighty +cruel thing you have done. Probably she mistook you; probably she +thought you cared. I'm neither an infidel nor an agnostic, so I'll +content myself by saying that the hand of God is in this somewhere. +'He's a good fellow, and 'twill all end well'. You have set out to +do something which is neither God's way nor man's. What'll you be +doing?" + +"What can I do?" asked Spurlock, raising his haggard face. "Can't +you see? I can't hurt her, if ... if she cares! I can't tell her +I'm a madman as well as a thief!... What a fool! What a fool!" + +A thief. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an +honest man. But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves +of pity and understanding. One transgression; he was sure of that. +The boy was all conscience, and he suffered through this conscience +to such lengths that the law would be impotent to add anything. All +this muddle to placate his conscience! + +"Here--quick!" McClintock thrust a cigar into Spurlock's hand. "Put +it in your teeth and light it. I hear her coming." + +Spurlock obeyed mechanically. The candle was shaking in his hand as +Ruth appeared in the doorway. + +"I thought we were going to have some music," she said. + +Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. Flesh and blood, +vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had +become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. And this +utter stranger ... loved him! He had no reason to doubt +McClintock's statement; the Scot had solved the riddle why Ruth +Enschede had married Howard Spurlock. All emotions laid hold of +him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. For a space +he rode the whirligig. + +"We were talking shop," said McClintock, rising. Observing +Spurlock's spell-bound attitude, he clapped the boy on the +shoulder. "Come along! We'll start that concert right away." + +In the living room Spurlock's glance was constantly drawn toward +Ruth; but in fear that she might sense something wrong, he walked +over to the piano and struck a few chords. + +"You play?" asked McClintock, who was sorting the rolls. + +"A little. This is a good piano." + +"It ought to be; it cost enough to get it here," said the Scot, +ruefully. "Ever play one of these machines?" + +"Yes. I've always been more or less music-mad. But machinery will +never approach the hand." + +"I know a man.... But I'll tell you about him some other time. I'm +crazy over music, too. I can't pump out all there is to these +compositions. Try something." + +Spurlock gratefully accepted the Grieg _concerto_, gratefully, +because it was brilliant and thunderous. _Papillon_ would have +broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and +like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. +He played for an hour--Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing +music. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, +too, that helped. He had been for months without music of the +character he loved--and he dared not play any of it! + +McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a +corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. His +interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his +glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to +Ruth. These amazing infants! + +Suddenly he came upon the true solution: that the boy hadn't meant +to steal whatever it was he had stolen. A victim of one of those +mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct +and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. Never +any doubt of it. That handsome, finely drawn face belonged to a +soul with clean ideals. All in a moment. McClintock's heart went +out to Spurlock; he would always be the boy's friend, even though +he had dragged this girl on to the rocks with him. + +Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. He could remember +when women laid away their gowns in lavender--as this girl's mother +had. He would always be her friend, too. That boy--blind as a bat! +Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! + +From the first chord of the Grieg _concerto_ to the _finale_ of the +Chopin _ballade_, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. +She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. What would happen to +her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?--as it had been +those other times? Music--that took out of her the sense of +reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the +directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. But before +the Grieg _concerto_ was done, she knew that she was free. Free! +All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. + +Spurlock sat limply, his arms hanging. McClintock, striking a match +to relight his cigar, broke the spell. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood +up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a +dream. + +"I didn't know the machine had such stuff in it," said McClintock. +"I imagine I must have a hundred rolls--all the old fellows. It's a +sorry world," he went on. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, +nobody writes--I mean, on a par with what we've just heard." + +The clock tinkled ten. Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home. +They walked in silence. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, +she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the +echo of the magic sounds. At the threshold of the study he bade her +good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. + +"I feel like work," he lied. What he wanted desperately was to be +alone. + +"But you are tired!" + +"I want to go over the story again." + +"Mr. McClintock liked it." + +"He couldn't help it, Ruth. It's big, thanks to you." + +"You.... need me a little?" + +"Not a little, but a great deal." + +That satisfied something of her undefined hunger. She went to her +bedroom, but she did not go to bed. She drew a chair to the window +and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. By and by she +heard the screen door. Hollo rumbled in his throat. + +"Hush!" she said. + +Presently she saw Spurlock on the way to the lagoon. He walked with +bent head. After quarter of an hour, she followed. + +The unexpected twist--his disclosure to McClintock--had given +Spurlock but temporary relief. The problem had returned, made +gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. The thought allured +him, and therein lay the danger. If it were but the question of his +reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple. But +he was a thief, a fugitive from justice. On that basis alone, he +had no right to give or accept love. + +Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? +It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had +said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of +excuse. + +Ruth loved him. It was perfectly logical. And he could not return +this love. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day +out. The Dawn Pearl! To be with her constantly, with no diversions +to serve as barricades! Damn McClintock for putting this thought in +his head--that Ruth loved him! + +He flung himself upon the beach, face downward, his outflung hands +digging into the sand: which was oddly like his problem--he could +not grip it. Torment! + +And so Ruth discovered him. She was about to rush to his side, when +she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. +Her heart swelled to suffocation. To go to him, to console him! But +she stirred not from her hiding place. Instinctively she knew--some +human recollection she had inherited--that she must not disturb him +in this man-agony. She could not go to him when it was apparent +that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this +agony did not matter--then. It was enough that she witnessed it and +could not go to him. + +By and by--as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless--she +stole back to the bungalow to wait. Through her door curtain she +could see the light from the study lamp. If, when he returned, he +blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on +for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain +to learn if his agony was still upon him. She heard him come in; +the light burned on. + +She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. He +had something across his knees. At first she could not tell what it +was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized +the old coat. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the +lagoon. Here again instinct guided her. If he had nothing to tell +her, she had nothing to ask. She did not want particularly to know +what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old +coat. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the +ache in her heart. + +At breakfast both of them played their parts skillfully. There was +nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. +There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed +her heart this morning. So they fenced with smiles. + +He noted that she was fully dressed, that her hair was carefully +done, that there was a knotted ribbon around her throat. It now +occurred to him that she had always been fully dressed. He did not +know--and probably never would unless she told him--that it was +very easy (and comfortable for a woman) to fall into slatternly +ways in this latitude. So long as she could remember, her father +had never permitted her to sit at the table unless she came fully +dressed. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become +habit. + +Fascination. It would be difficult to find another human being +subjected to so many angles of attack as Spurlock. Ruth loved him. +This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his +terror, which is a phase of fascination. She loved him. That held +his thought as the magnet holds the needle, inescapably. The mortal +youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all +sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. The novel danger of the +situation enthralled him. He saw himself retreating from barricade +to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the +terror she inspired. + +While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. She +attacked his hair resolutely. He laughed to hide his uneasiness. +The touch of her hands was pleasurable. + +"The part was crooked," she explained. + +"I don't believe McClintock would have gone into convulsions at the +sight of it. Anyhow, ten minutes after I get to work I'll be +rumpling it." + +"That isn't the point, Hoddy. You don't notice the heat; but it is +always there, pressing down. You must always shave and part your +hair straight. It doesn't matter that you deal with black people. +It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. Mr. McClintock does +it; and he knows why. In the morning and at night he is dressed as +he would dress in the big hotels. In the afternoon he probably +loafs in his pajamas. You can, too, if you wish.." + +"All right, teacher; I'll shave and comb my hair." He rose for fear +she might touch him again. + +But such is the perversity of the human that frequently thereafter +he purposely crooked the part in his hair, to give her the excuse +to fetch the comb. Not that he deliberately courted danger; it was +rather the searcher, seeking analysis, the why and wherefore of +this or that invading emotion. + +He was always tenderly courteous; he answered her ordinary +questions readily and her extraordinary ones patiently; he always +rose when she entered or left the room. This formality irked her: +she wanted to play a little, romp. The moment she entered the room +and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the +circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled +it with diffidence. There was a wall; she was always encountering +it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when +the part in his hair was crooked. + +She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone--the +bones of all women. She required no instructions from books; her +wit and beauty were her own. What lends a tragic mockery to all +these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. +This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. + +But Spurlock was ever on guard, even when she fussed over his hair. +His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not +sensitive to this. The fire--if there was any in him--never made +headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of +these manifold inward agitations. + +Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the +name of Rollo unflinchingly--the dog that adored her openly, +shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. +Upon this grateful animal she lavished that affection which was +subtly repelled by its lawful object. + +Spurlock was by nature orderly, despite his literary activities. +Before the first month was gone, McClintock admitted that the boy +was a find. Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on +them. The cheating of the boys in the stores ceased. If there were +any pearls, none came into the light. Gradually McClintock shifted +the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and +music rolls. + +Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's--twenty miles to the northwest--for +ice and mail. It was a port of call, since fortnightly a British +mail-boat dropped her mudhook in the bay. All sorts of battered +tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. Spurlock +was tremendously interested in these derelicts, and got a good deal +of information regarding them, which he stored away for future use. +There were electric and ice plants, and a great store in which one +could buy anything from jewsharps to gas-engines. White men and +natives dealt conveniently at Copeley's. It saved long voyages and +long waits; and the buyers rarely grumbled because the prices were +stiff. There were white men with families, a fine mission-house, and +a club-house for cards and billiards. + +He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined +all the proffered courtesies. Getting back the ice was rather a +serious affair. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds--all +she could carry--and started home immediately after sundown; but +even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds +before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered +sawdust pit. This ice was used for refrigerator purposes and for +McClintock's evening peg. + +Ruth with Rollo as her guide explored the island. In the heart of +the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. Into one of these he +waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. At first she +thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after +a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities +and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. In the +presence of the husband of his mistress Rollo was always +dignifiedly cheerful, but he never leaped or cavorted as he did +when alone with Ruth. + +Spurlock was fond of dogs; he was fond of this offspring of many +mesalliances; but he never made any attempt to win Rollo, to share +him. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. He filled the +rôle of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not +utterly as he would have liked. Yes--as he would have liked. + +For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. She was as lovely in +the spirit as in the flesh. Her moods were many and always +striking. She was never violent when angry: she became as calm and +baffling as the sea in doldrums. She never grew angry for anything +her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the +lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the +inner temple--Spurlock's study. + +She formed a habit which embarrassed Spurlock greatly, but at first +he dared not complain. She would come and sit cross-legged just +beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. One night +she apparently fell asleep. He could not permit her to remain in +that position. So, very carefully, he raised her in his arms and +carried her to her bed. The moment he was out in the hall, Ruth sat +up hugging and rocking her body in delight. This charming episode +was repeated three times. Then he sensed the trap. + +"Ruth, you must not come and sit on the threshold. I can't +concentrate on my work. It doesn't annoy me; it only disturbs me. I +can't help looking at you frequently. You don't want me to spoil +the story, do you?" + +"No. But it's so wonderful to watch you! Whenever you have written +something beautiful, your face shows it." + +"I know; but ..." + +"And sometimes you say out loud: 'That's great stuff!' I never make +any sound." + +"But it is the sight of you!" + +"All right, Hoddy. I promise not to do it again." She rose. "Good +night." + +He stared at the agitated curtain; and slowly his chin sank until +it touched his chest. He had hurt her. But the recollection of the +warm pliant body in his arms ...! + +"I am a thief!" he whispered. He had only to recall this fact +(which he did in each crisis) to erect a barrier she could not go +around or over. + +Sometimes it seemed to him that he was an impostor: that Ruth +believed him to be one Howard Spurlock, when he was only +masquerading as Spurlock. If ever the denouement came--if ever the +Hand reached him--Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed +all her tender advances. The law would accord her all her previous +rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his +madness he had taken her. She might even forgive him. + +He thanked God for this talent of his. He could lose himself for +hours at a time. Whatever he wrote he was: he became this or that +character, he suffered or prospered equally. He was the +beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), +or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. There was +a fourth story; but he never told either Ruth or McClintock about +this. He called it "The Man Who Could Not Go Home." Himself. He did +not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. + +By the middle of July he was in full health. In the old days he had +been something of an athlete--a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at +tennis. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red +corpuscle. For all the enervating heat, he applied himself +vigorously to his tasks. + +Late in July he finished the fourth story. This time there wasn't +any doubt. He had done it. These were _yarns_! As he was about to +slip the manuscripts into the envelope, something caught his eye: +by Howard Spurlock. Entranced, he stared at the name. Suddenly he +understood what had happened. A wrathful God was watching him. +Howard Spurlock. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. To write +under a pseudonym!--to be forced to disown his children! He could +not write under his own name, enjoy the fruits of fame should these +tales prove successful. + +Here was a thundering blow. All his dreams shattered in an instant. +What is the supreme idea in the heart and mind of youth? To win +fame and fortune: and particularly to enjoy them. Spurlock slumped +in his chair, weak and empty. This was the bitterest hour he had +ever known. From thoughts of fame to thoughts of mere bread and +butter! It seemed to Spurlock that he had tumbled off the edge of +Somewhere into the abyss of Nowhere. + +At length, when he saw no escape from the inevitable, he took the +four title pages from the manuscripts and typed new ones, +substituting Taber for Spurlock. A vast indifference settled down +upon him. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. +He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe +he would ever write again. + +Both Ruth and McClintock came down to the launch to wish him +God-speed and good luck. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, +with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. Through it +all Spurlock maintained a gaiety which deceived them completely. But +his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet. + +And yet--such is the buoyancy of youth--within a fortnight he began +his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's +account. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable +thought. + + * * * * * + +Coconuts grew perpetually. There will often be six growths in a +single palm. So proas loaded with nuts were always landing on the +beach. _The Tigress_ went prowling for nut, too. Once, both Ruth +and Spurlock accompanied McClintock far south, to an island of +blacks; and Spurlock had his first experience with the coconut +dance and the booming of wooden tom-toms. + +At first Spurlock tasted coconut in his eggs, in what meat he ate; +it permeated everything, taste and smell. For a long time even the +strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed +a coconut flavour. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or +tasted it. + +On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a +packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. McClintock never +threw away any advertising matter; in fact, he openly courted +pamphlets; and they came from automobile dealers and great +mail-order houses, from haberdashers and tailors and manufacturers +of hair-tonics, razors, gloves, shoes, open plumbing. In this way +(he informed Spurlock) he kept posted on what was going on in the +strictly commercial world. "Besides, lad, even an advertisement of +a cough-drop is something to read." So there was always plenty of +mail. + +Among the commercial enticements McClintock found a real letter. In +privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually +destroyed it by fire. It was, in his opinion, the most astonishing +letter he had ever read. He hated to destroy it; but that was the +obligation imposed; and he was an honourable man. + +Not since she had discovered it had Ruth touched or opened the +mission Bible; but to-night (the same upon which the wonderful +manuscripts started on their long and circuitous voyage to America) +she was inexplicably drawn to it. In all these weeks she had not +once knelt to pray. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. God had +never answered any of her prayers. But this time she wanted nothing +for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy--success. So, not +exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. +She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, +knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. + +It was not a long prayer. She said it audibly, having learned long +since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. And yet, at +the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to +consciousness. "And someday let him care for me!" + +She sprang up, alarmed. This unexpected interpolation might spoil +the efficacy of all that had gone before. She hadn't meant to ask +anything for herself. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. She had +been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, +that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind +for a substance, and now regretted what he had done--married a girl +who was not his equal in anything. The agony on the sands now +ceased to puzzle her. + +All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered +themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. +Why had he offered her that kiss on board _The Tigress_? Perhaps +that had been his hour of disenchantment. She hadn't measured up; +she had been stupid; she hadn't known how to make love. + +Loneliness. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness +had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would +for years to come. + +If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his +tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding +bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. Very well. She +would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the +slightest hint that she was unhappy. + +She still had her letter of credit. She could run away from him, if +she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry +out the original adventure. But the cases were not identical. Her +father--man of rock--had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if +he did not love her, would always be needing her. + +Love stories!... A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it +she buried her face in a pillow. + +Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west +veranda. The chair had extension arms over which a man might +comfortably dangle his legs. For awhile he watched the revolving +light on Copeley's. Occasionally he relit his pipe. Once he +chuckled aloud. Certain phases of irony always caused him to +chuckle audibly. Every one of those four stories would be accepted. +He knew it absolutely, as if he had the check in his hand. Why? +Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of +Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs +in this cup of irony. For what could be more ironical than for +Howard Spurlock to see himself grow famous under the name of Taber? +The ambrosia of which he had so happily dreamt!--and this gall and +wormwood! He stood up and rapped his pipe on the rail. + +"All right," he said. "Whatever you say--you, behind those stars +there, if you are a God. We Spurlocks take our medicine, standing. +Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, +don't let her suffer for anything I've done. Be a sport, and pile +it all on me!" + +He went to bed. + +There is something in prayer; not that there may be any noticeable +result, any definite answer; but no human being can offer an honest +prayer to God without gaining immeasurably in courage, in +fortitude, in resignation, and that alone is worth the effort. + +On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a +prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. He became really +companionable, discussed the new story he had in mind, and asked +some questions about colour. Ruth, having decided a course for +herself--that of renunciation--and having the strength to keep it, +met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. So +these two young philosophers got along very well that day; and the +succeeding days. + +She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life +and the changing mysteries of the sea. She taught him how to sail a +proa, how to hack open a milk-coconut, how to relish bamboo +sprouts. Eventually this comradeship (slightly resented by Rollo) +reached a point where he could call out from the study: "Hey, +Ruth!--come and tell me what you think of this." + +Her attitude now entirely sisterly, he ceased to be afraid of her; +there was never anything in her eyes (so far as he could see) but +friendly interest in all he said or did. And yet, often when alone, +he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care +in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have +filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut +the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. Yesterday this +glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly. No +more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. And +instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely +hurt! + +One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach. It +brought no coconut. There stepped forth a tall brown man. He +remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving +investigatingly. He wore a battered sun-helmet, a loin-cloth and a +pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. At length he proceeded toward +McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. + +Sure of foot, noiseless, he made the veranda and paused at the side +of one of the screened windows. By and by he ventured to peer into +this window. He saw three people: a young man at the piano, an +elderly man smoking in a corner, and a young woman reclining in a +chair, her eyes closed. The watcher's intake of breath was +sibilant. + +It was she! The Dawn Pearl! + +He vaulted the veranda rail, careless now whether or not he was +heard, and ran down to the beach. He gave an order, the proa was +floated and the sail run up. In a moment the brisk evening breeze +caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. The proa bore away to +the northwest out of which it had come. + +James Boyle O'Higgins knew little or nothing of the South Seas, but +he knew human beings, all colours. His deduction was correct that +the beauty of Ruth Enschede could not remain hidden long even on a +forgotten isle. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + + +Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. For a long time to +come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to +write. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the +study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. +She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither +the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did +correct his lapses in colour. She never touched the manuscript with +pencil, but jotted down her notes on slips of paper and left them +where he might easily find them. + +She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. He worked +afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night +under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, +with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could +not. With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he +laboured. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a +shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his +face and arms and hands. He kept at it even on those nights when +the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight +down with stones everything on his table. Soot was everywhere, for +the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale. But he wrote on. + +As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and +dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams +reviewed--as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. It +frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but +the chapter following would reassure her. Here would be a woman +perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. + +This heroine ruled an island which (in the '80s) was rich with +shell--pearl-shell; and she fought pearl thievers and marauding +beachcombers, fought them with weapons and with woman's guile. No +man knew whence she had come nor why. That there would eventually +be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, +waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. If +the creator drew a hero anything like himself, she would accept it +as a sign that he did care a little. + +Ruth did not resent the use of her mind and body in this tale of +adventure. She gloried in it: he needed her. When the hero finally +did appear, Ruth became filled with gentle self-mockery. He was no +Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and +drink-shattered intellect. Day by day she followed the spiritual +and physical contest between this man and woman. One day a pall of +blackness encompassed the sick mind of the giant; and when he came +to his senses, they properly functioned: and he saw his wife by his +bedside! + +An astonishing idea entered Ruth's head one day--when the novel was +complete in the rough--an astonishing idea because it had not +developed long ago. A thing which had mystified her since +childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she +had never felt the urge to investigate. She tucked the mission +Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to +the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened +with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. During the wet monsoon +the west beach was always littered. Where the stuff came from was +always a mystery. + +The Enschede Bible--the one out of which she read--had been +strangely mutilated. Sections and pages had been pasted together, +and all through both Testaments a word had been blotted out. The +open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, +morning and night. One of her duties, after she had been taught to +read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to +bed. The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had +come times when shrieking would have relieved her. How she had +hated it!... All these mumblings which were never explained, which +carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to +Old Morgan's swearing parrot. Like the parrot, she could memorize +the lines, but she could not understand them. Never had her father +explained. "Read the first chapter of Job"; beyond that, nothing. +Whenever she came upon the obliterated word and paused, her father +would say: "Faith. Go on." So, after a time, encountering the blot, +she herself would supply the word Faith. But was it Faith? That is +what she was this day going to find out. + +She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had +carried the blot. And so she came upon the word _Love_. Blotted +out--Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, +her father had obliterated the word _Love_. Why? Love was a word of +God's, and yet her father had denied it--denied it to the Book, +denied it to his own flesh and blood. Why? He could preach the Word +and deny Love!--tame the savage heart, succour broken white +men!--pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea +made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable. She could accord her +father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. Tender +with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had +the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. + +She recalled him. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face +decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a +countenance hewn out of rock. Never had he corrected her with hand +or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower +her. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; +never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. She +had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name--Ruth. + +Love, obliterated, annihilated; out of his heart and out of his +Bible. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. No matter. It was ended. She +herself had cut the slender tie that had bound them. Ah, but she +could remember; and many things there were that she would never +forgive. Sometimes--a lonely forlorn child--she had gone to him and +put her arms around his neck. Stonily he had disengaged himself. "I +forbid you to do that." She had brought home a puppy one day. He +had taken it back. He destroyed her clumsily made dolls whenever he +found them. + +Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" + +He had answered: "I am." + +She had no reason to doubt him. Her father, her own father! She +remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been +quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. + +_How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? for ever? How long wilt thou +hide thy face from me?_ + +She came upon the Song of Songs--which had been pasted down in the +Enschede Bible--the burning litany of love; and from time to time +she intoned some verse of tender lyric beauty. There was one verse +that haunted and mocked her. + +_Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of +love._ + +Here was Ruth Enschede--sick of love! Love--something the world +would always keep hidden from her, at least human love. All she had +found was the love of this dog. She threw her arms around Rollo's +neck and laid her cheek upon the flea-bitten head. + +"Oh, Rollo, there are so many things I don't know! But you love me, +don't you?" + +Rollo wagged his stump violently and tried to lick her face. He +understood. When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick +which he fetched and laid at her feet. But she was staring seaward +and did not notice the offering. + + * * * * * + +October. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting +in. Then came the great day. It was at lunch when McClintock +announced that in the mail-pouch he had found a letter addressed to +Howard Taber, care of Donald McClintock and so-forth. + +Spurlock grew cold. All that confidence, born of irony, +disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. The envelope might contain +only a request as to what he wanted done with the manuscripts. In +mailing the tales he had not enclosed return postage or the +equivalent in money. + +"So you're writing under a nom de plume, eh?" said McClintock, +holding out the letter. + +"You open it, Ruth. I'm in a funk," Spurlock confessed. + +McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. She, having all +the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the +contents--a letter and a check. What the editor had to say none of +the three cared just then. Spurlock snatched the check out of +Ruth's hands and ran to the window. + +"A thousand dollars in British pounds!... A thousand dollars for +four short stories!" The tan on Spurlock's face lightened. He was +profoundly stirred. He turned to Ruth and McClintock. "You two ... +both of you! But for you I couldn't have done it. If only you knew +what this means to me!" + +"We do, lad," replied McClintock, gravely. The youth of them! And +what was he going to do when they left his island? What would +Donald McClintock be doing with himself, when youth left the +island, never more to return? + +Ruth was thrilling with joy. Every drop of blood in her body glowed +and expanded. To go to Hoddy, to smother him with kisses and +embraces in this hour of triumph! To save herself from committing +the act--the thought of which was positive hypnotism--she began the +native dance. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) +welcomed the diversion. He seized a tray, squatted on the floor, +and imitated the tom-tom. It was a mad half-hour. + +"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was +McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. + +"You read it, Ruth. You're luck." + +"Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. Luck. The boy would +never know just how lucky he was. Ruth read: + + DEAR SIR: + + "We are delighted to accept these four stories, + particularly 'The Man Who Could Not Go Home.' We shall be + pleased to see more of your work. + +"'The Man Who Could Not Go Home.' Why," said Ruth, "you did not +read that to us." + +"Wanted to see if I could turn out one all on my own," replied +Spurlock, looking at McClintock, who nodded slightly. "It was the +story of a man, so to speak, who had left his vitals in his native +land and wandered strange paths emptily. But never mind that. Come +along home, Ruth. I'm burning to get to work." + +After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if +there was the flavour of irony. At least, he would always be able +to take care of Ruth. The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her! +The pearl without price--his and not his! + +He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down +the veranda steps. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but +he was too far away in thought to be observant. He saw rifts in +clouds--sunshine. The future was not so black. All the money he +earned--serving McClintock and the muse--could be laid away. Then, +in a few years, he and Ruth might fare forth in comfort and +security. After five or six years it would not be difficult to hide +in Italy or in France. No; the future was not so dark; there was a +bit of dawn visible. If this success continued, it would be easy to +assume the name of Taber. Ruth could not very well object, since an +air of distinction would go with Taber. + +Suddenly he felt Ruth swing violently away from him, and he wheeled +to learn the cause. + +He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a +winter's road, grim, stony. His gangling body was clothed in rusty +twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the +throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the +world over as a man of the Word. His hand rested heavily and +cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. + +"So, wanton, I have found you!" + +"Wanton! Why, you infernal liar!" cried Spurlock, striking at the +arm. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on +the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. Berserker, +Spurlock rose, head down, and charged. + +"Hoddy, Hoddy!... No, no! This is my father!" warned Ruth. + +Spurlock halted in his tracks. "But what does he mean by calling +you a wanton?--you, my wife?" + +Enschede's hand slipped from his daughter's shoulder. The iron +slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment. "Your +wife?" + +"His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. + +For a moment none of them stirred; then slowly Enschede turned +away. To Spurlock's observing eye, Enschede's wrinkles multiplied +and the folds in his clothes. The young man's imagination suddenly +pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling +as it fell. But why did he turn away? + +"Wait!" Ruth called to her father. + +The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the +unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in +verbal lava. It is not well that a daughter should talk to her +father as Ruth talked to hers that day. + +The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and +heard the other, his amazement indescribable. Never before had he +seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. But as the +mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her +father thickened. + +"I used to cry myself to sleep, Hoddy, I was so forlorn and lonely. +He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. For +fifteen years!--so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a +little love, a caress now and then. But I waited in vain. So I ran +away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. Youth! You +denied me even that," said Ruth, her glance now flashing to her +father. "Spring!--I never knew any. I dared not sing, I dared not +laugh, except when you went away. What little happiness I had I was +forced to steal. I am glad you found me. I am out of your life +forever, never having been in it. Did you break my mother's heart +as you tried to break mine? I am no longer accountable to you for +anything. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, +understanding. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. No, no! Not +now!" + +Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the +veranda steps, and vanished within. Without a word, without a sign, +Enschede started toward the beach, where his proa waited. + +For a time Spurlock did not move. This incredible scene robbed him +of the sense of locomotion. But his glance roved, to the door +through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. +Unexpectedly he found himself speeding toward the father. + +"Enschede!" he called. + +Enschede halted. "Well?" he said, as Spurlock reached his side. + +"Are you a human being, to leave her thus?" + +"It is better so. You heard her. What she said is true." + +"But why? In the name of God, why? Your flesh and blood! Have you +never loved anything?" + +"Are you indeed my daughter's lawful husband?" Enschede countered. + +"I am. You will find the proof in McClintock's safe. You called her +a wanton!" + +"Because I had every reason to believe she was one. There was every +indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute +rogue." Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. + +Fired with wrath, Spurlock recounted the Canton episode. "She +travelled alone; and she is the purest woman God ever permitted to +inhabit the earth. What!--you know so little of that child? She ran +away from _you_. Somebody tricked you back yonder--baited you for +spite. She ran away from you; and now I can easily understand why. +What sort of a human being are you, anyhow?" + +Enschede gazed seaward. When he faced Spurlock, the granite was +cracked and rived; never had Spurlock seen such dumb agony in human +eyes. "What shall I say? Shall I tell you, or shall I leave you in +the dark--as I must always leave her? What shall I say except that +I am accursed of men? Yes; I have loved something--her mother. Not +wisely but too well. I loved her beyond anything in heaven or on +earth--to idolatry. God is a jealous God, and He turned upon me +relentlessly. I had consecrated my life to His Work; and I took the +primrose path." + +"But a man may love his wife!" cried Spurlock, utterly bewildered. + +"Not as I loved mine. So, one day, because God was wroth, her +mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, +miserably. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. +Perhaps I am still mad. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer +the way I did--and do. For I still love her mother. So I undertook +to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it +whenever it appeared, obliterating it. I made it a point to bring +beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind. I +never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. Anything that +might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all." + +"Man, in God's name, come with me and tell her this!" urged +Spurlock. + +"It is too late. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than +let it speak her mother's infamy. To tell Ruth anything, it would +be necessary to tell her everything; and I cannot and you must not. +She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the +answers. So she built a shrine. Always her prayers ended--'And may +my beautiful mother guide me!' No. It is better as it is. She is no +longer mine; she is yours." + +"What a mistake!" + +"Yes. But you--you have a good face. Be kind to her. Whenever you +grow impatient with her, remember the folly of her father. I can +now give myself to God utterly; no human emotion will ever be +shuttling in between." + +"And all the time you loved her?"--appalled. + +"Perhaps." + +Enschede stepped into the proa, and the natives shoved off. +Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an +infinitesimal speck in the distance. His throat filled; he wanted +to weep. For yonder went the loneliest man in all God's unhappy +world. + + + +CHAPTER XXV + + +Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, +buckling his knees and folding his arms around them--pondering. Was +he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father +lacked the essential human touch to make it real. Without a +struggle he could give up his flesh and blood like that! "I can now +give myself to God utterly; no human emotion will ever be shuttling +in between." The mortal agony behind those eyes! And all the while +he had probably loved his child. To take Spring and Love out of her +life, as if there were no human instincts to tell Ruth what was +being denied her! And what must have been the man's thought as he +came upon Ruth wearing a gown of her mother's?--a fair picture of +the mother in the primrose days? Not a flicker of an eyelash; steel +and granite outwardly. + +The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental +suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know. To +find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale +Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable +thought. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in +the man!--the iron in this child of his! + +Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. Spurlock bent his +head to his knees. He took into his soul some of the father's +misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. Enschede, +to have starved his heart as well as Ruth's because, having laid a +curse, he knew not how to turn aside from it! How easily he might +have forgotten the unworthy mother in the love of the child! And +this day to hear her voice lifted in a quality of anathema. Poor +Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband--a thief! + +Spurlock rocked his body slightly. He knew that at this moment Ruth +lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the +reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be +putting scars on her soul. And he, her lawful husband, dared not go +to her and console her! Accursed--all of them--Enschede, Ruth, and +himself. + +"What's the matter, lad, after all the wonderful fireworks at +lunch?" + +Spurlock beheld McClintock standing beside him. He waved a hand +toward the sea. + +"A sail?" said McClintock. "What about it?" + +"Enschede." + +"Enschede?--her father? What's happened?" McClintock sat down. "Do +you mean to tell me he's come and gone in an hour? What the devil +kind of a father is he?" + +Spurlock shook his head. + +"What's become of Ruth?" + +"Gone to her room." + +"Come, lad; let's have it," said McClintock. "Anything that +concerns Ruth is of interest to me. What happened between Ruth and +her father that made him hurry off without passing ordinary +courtesies with me?" + +"I suppose I ought to tell you," said Spurlock; "but it is +understood that Ruth shall never know the truth." + +"Not if it will hurt her." + +"Hurt her? It would tear her to pieces; God knows she has had +enough. Her mother.... Do you recall the night she showed you the +face in the locket? Do you remember how she said--'If only my +mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or +beautiful?" + +"I remember. Go on and tell me." + +When Spurlock had finished the tale, touched here and there by his +own imagination, McClintock made a negative sign. + +"So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping +alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of +bitterness?" + +"What can I do?" + +"You can go to her and take her in your arms." + +"I might have been able to do that if you hadn't told me ... she +cared." + +"Man, she's your wife!" + +"And I am a thief." + +"You're a damn fool, too!" exploded the trader. + +"I am as God made me." + +"No. God gives us an equal chance; but we make ourselves. You are +captain of your soul; don't forget your Henley. But I see now. That +poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. Her father for +fifteen years, and you now for the rest of her life! Tell her +you're a thief. Get it off your soul." + +"Add that to what she is now suffering? It's too late. She would +not forgive me." + +"And why should you care whether she forgave you or not?" + +Spurlock jumped to his feet, the look of the damned upon his face. +"Why? Because I love her! Because I loved her at the start, but was +too big a fool to know it!" + +His own astonishment was quite equal to McClintock's. The latter +began to heave himself up from the sand. + +"Did I hear you ..." began McClintock. + +"Yes!" interrupted Spurlock, savagely. "You heard me say it! It was +inevitable. I might have known it. Another labyrinth in hell!" + +A smile broke over the trader's face. It began in the eyes and +spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. + +"Man, man! You're coming to life. There's something human about you +now. Go to her and tell her. Put your arms around her and tell her +you love her. Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" + +The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless +weariness fell upon him. "I can't make you understand; I can't make +you see things as I see them. As matters now stand, I'm only a +thief, not a blackguard. What!--add another drop to her cup? Who +knows? Any day they may find me. So long as matters remain as they +are, and they found me, there would be no shame for Ruth. Can't I +make you see?" + +"But I'm telling you Ruth loves you. And her kind of love forgives +everything and anything but infidelity." + +"You did not hear her when she spoke to her father; I did." + +"But she would understand you; whereas she will never understand +her father. Spurlock: 'tis Roundhead, sure enough. Go to her, I +say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I +can't make _you_ see. Man, if you tell her you love her, and later +they took you away to prison, who would sit at the prison gate +until your term was up? Ruth. Why am I here--thirty years of +loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because +I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. The woman I +wanted was another man's wife. So here I am, king of all I survey, +with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player. +But you! Ruth is your lawful wife. Not to go to her is wickeder than +if I had run away with my friend's wife. You're a queer lad. With +your pencil you see into the hearts of all; and without your pencil +you are dumb and blind. Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all +your own, for better or for worse. Have you thought of the monstrous +lie you are adding to your theft?" + +"Lie?" said Spurlock, astounded. + +"Aye--to pretend to her that you don't care. That's a most damnable +lie; and when she finds out, 'tis then she will not forgive. She'll +have this hour always with her; and you failed her. Go to her." + +"I can't." + +"Afraid?" + +"Yes." + +This simple admission disarmed McClintock. "Well, well; I have +given out of my wisdom. I'd like to shake you until your bones +rattled; but the bones of a Roundhead wouldn't rattle to any +purpose. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. Mountains out of +molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in +one direction and shatter yourself in the other. There is strength +in you--misguided. You will torture yourself and torture her all +through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith +into a sound chalice. I would that you were my own." + +"I, a thief?" + +"Aye; thief, Roundhead and all. If a certain kink in your sense of +honour will not permit you to go to her as a lover, go to her as a +comrade. Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her +heart has been twisted sorely." + +McClintock without further speech strode toward his bungalow; and +half an hour later Spurlock, passing, heard the piano-tuning key at +work. + +Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and +mind as well as in the feet. But recently he had asked God to pile +it all on him; and God had added this, with a fresh portion for +Ruth. One thing--he could be thankful for that--the peak of his +misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now +and not matter in the least. + +Love ... to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to +add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a +thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and +pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already +wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. The future? He dared not +speculate upon that. + +He paused at the bamboo curtain of her room, which was in +semi-darkness. He heard Rollo's stump beat a gentle tattoo on the +floor. + +"Ruth?" + +Silence for a moment. "Yes. What is it?" + +"Is there anything I can do?" The idiocy of the question filled him +with the craving of laughter. Was there anything he could do! + +"No, Hoddy; nothing." + +"Would you like to have me come in and talk?" How tender that +sounded!--talk! + +"If you want to." + +Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. The dusky +obscurity of the room was twice welcome. He did not want Ruth to +see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, +ravaged by tears. He knew she had been weeping. He drew a chair to +the side of the bed and sat down, terrified by the utter fallowness +of his mind. Filled as he was with conflicting emotions, any +stretch of silence would be dangerous. The fascination of the idea +of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in +his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her +arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand +clenched tightly. + +"I am very wicked," she said. "After all, he is my father, Hoddy; +and I cursed him. But all those empty years!... My heart was hot. +I'm sorry. I do forgive him; but he will never know now." + +"Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. + +"He would return my letters unopened or destroy them." + +That was true, thought Spurlock. No matter what happened, whether +the road smoothed out or became still rougher, he would always be +carrying this secret with him; and each time he recalled it, the +rack. + +"Would you rather be alone?" + +"No. It's kind of comforting to have you there. You understand. I +sha'n't cry any more. Tell me a story--with apple-blossoms in +it--about people who are happy." + +Miserably his thoughts shuttled to and fro in search of what he +knew she wanted--a love story. Presently he began to weave a tale, +sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. +How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. When +he reached the happy ending, he waited. But there was no sign from +her. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. She +had fallen asleep. The hand that had been clenched lay open, +relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + + +Spurlock went out on his toes, careful lest the bamboo curtain +rattle behind him. He went into the study and sat down at his +table, but not to write. He drew out the check and the editorial +letter. He had sold half a dozen short tales to third-rate +magazines; but this letter had been issued from a distinguished +editorial room, of international reputation. If he could keep it +up--style and calibre of imagination--within a year the name of +Taber would become widely known. Everything in the world to live +for!--fame that he could not reap, love that he must not take! What +was all this pother about hell as a future state? + +By and by things began to stir on the table: little invisible +things. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper +began to beckon imperiously. So he sharpened a score of pencils, +and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written +the previous night, he plunged into work. It was hot and dry. There +were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the +sea. He was always deceived by these rustlings which promised wind +and seldom fulfilled that promise. + +"Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. "I +don't see how you do it, Hoddy. It's so stuffy--and all that +tobacco smoke!" + +He inspected his watch. Half after six. He was astonished. For four +hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these +imaginative characters. + +"He called me a wanton, Hoddy. That is what I don't understand." + +"There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you +are. No doubt--because he did not understand you--he thought you +had run away with someone. The trader you spoke about: he disliked +your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a +horrible practical joke." + +"Perhaps that was it. I always wondered why he bought my mother's +pearls so readily. I am dreadfully sad." + +"I'll tell you what. I'll speak to McClintock to-night and see if +he won't take us for a junket on _The Tigress_. Eh? Banging against +the old rollers--that'll put some life into us both. Run along +while I rig up and get the part in my hair straight." + +"If he had only been my father!--McClintock!" + +"God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is +like another. See the new litter of Mrs. Pig? By George, every one +of them looks like the other; and yet each one attacks the source +of supply with a squeal and an oof that's entirely different from +his brothers' and sisters'. Put on that new dress--the one that's +all white. We'll celebrate that check, and let the rest of the +world go hang." + +"You are very good to me, Hoddy." + +Something reached down into his heart and twisted it. But he held +the smile until she turned away from the curtain. He dressed +mechanically; so many moves this way, so many moves that. The +evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and +rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. To prevent the +leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed +paper weights. Still unconscious of anything he did physically. + +He tried not to think--of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her +misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. He drew +compellingly upon his new characters to keep him out of this +melancholy channel; but they ebbed and ebbed; he could not hold +them. Enschede: no human emotion should ever again shuttle between +him and God. As if God would not continue to mock him so long as +his brain held a human thought! God had given him a pearl without +price, and he had misunderstood until this day. + +McClintock was in a gay mood at dinner that night; but he did not +see fit to give these children the true reason. For a long time +there had been a standing offer from the company at Copeley's to +take over the McClintock plantation; and to-day he had decided to +sell. Why? Because he knew that when these two young people left, +the island would become intolerable. For nearly thirty years he had +lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill +him with discontent. + +He would give _The Tigress_ a triple coat of paint, and take these +two on a long cruise, wherever they wanted to go--Roundhead and +Seraph, the blunderbus and the flaming angel. And there was another +matter. To have sprung this upon them to-night would have been worth +a thousand pounds. But his lips were honour-locked. + +There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both +taboo) at his elbow. In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange +was arranged in spiral form. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the +exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. + +"I sha'n't offer any of these to you two," he said; "but I know you +won't mind me having an imitation king's peg. The occasion is worth +a dash of the grape, lad. You're on the way to big things. A +thousand dollars is a lot of money for an author to earn." + +Spurlock laughed. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. I +wouldn't touch the stuff for all the pearls in India. A cup of +lies. I know all about it." + +Ruth's eyes began to glow. She had often wondered if Hoddy would +ever go back to it. She knew now that he never would. + +"Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. +"In wine there is truth. What about that?" + +"It means that drink cheats a man into telling things he ought not +to. And there's your liver." + +"Ay, and there's my liver. It'll be turning over to-morrow. But +never mind that," said McClintock grinning as he drew the dish of +bread-fruit toward him. "To-morrow I shall have a visitor. I do not +say guest because that suggests friendship; and I am no friend of +this Wastrel. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn +on the subject." + +"The pianist?" + +"Yes. He'll be here two or three days. So Mrs. Spurlock had better +stick to the bungalow." + +"Ah," said Spurlock; "that kind of a man." + +"Many kinds; a thorough outlaw. We've never caught him cheating at +cards; too clever; but we know he cheats. But he's witty and +amusing, and when reasonably drunk he can play the piano like a +Paderewski. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. +Nobody knows what his real name is, but he's a Hollander. Kicked +out of there for something shady. A remittance man. A check arrives +in Batavia every three months. He has a grand time. Then he goes +stony, and beats his way around the islands for another three +months. Retribution has a queer way of acting sometimes. The +Wastrel--as we call him--cannot play when he's sober; hands too +shaky. He can't play cards, either, when he's sober. Alcohol--would +you believe it?--steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is +against the laws of gravitation, you might say. He has often told +me that if he could play sober, he would go to America and reap a +fortune." + +"You never told me what he is like," said Spurlock. + +"I thought it best that you should imagine him. You were wide the +mark, physically; otherwise you had him pat. He is big and +powerful; one of those drinkers who show it but little outwardly. +Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually. In his +youth he must have been a remarkably handsome man, for he is still +handsome. I don't believe he is much past forty. A bad one in a +rough-and-tumble; all the water-front tricks. His hair is oddly +streaked with gray--I might say a dishonourable gray. Perhaps in +the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him." + +"That's reasonable. I don't know how to explain it," said Spurlock, +"but music hits women queerly. I've often seen them storming the +Carnegie Hall stage." + +"Aye, music hits them. I'm thinking that the Wastrel was one day a +celebrated professional; and the women were partly the cause of his +fall. Women! He is always chanting the praise of some discovery; +sometimes it will be a native, often a white woman out of the +stews. So it will be wise for Mrs. Spurlock to keep to the bungalow +until the rogue goes back to Copeley's. Queer world. For every +Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a +wolf." + +"What's the matter, Ruth?" asked Spurlock, anxiously. + +"It has been ... rather a hard day, Hoddy," Ruth answered. She was +wan and white. + +So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked +far into the night. + + * * * * * + +The general office was an extension of the west wing of the +McClintock bungalow. From one window the beach was always visible; +from another, the stores. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk +in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and +the stores an occasional glance. Whenever McClintock had guests, he +loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. + +This morning he heard voices--McClintock's and the Wastrel's. + +"Sorry," said McClintock, "but I must ask you to check out this +afternoon before five. I'm having some unexpected guests." + +"Ah! Sometimes I wonder I don't run amok and kill someone," said +the Wastrel, in broken English. "I give you all of my genius, and +you say--'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog." + +"That is your fault, none of mine. Without whisky," went on +McClintock, "your irritability is beyond tolerance. You have said a +thousand times that there was no shame in you. Nobody can trust +you. Nobody can anticipate your next move. We tolerate you for your +genius, that's a fact. But underneath this tolerance there is +always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert +itself." + +The Wastrel laughed. "Did you ever hear me whine?" + +"No," admitted McClintock + +"You've no objection to my dropping in again later, after your +guests go?" + +"No. When I'm alone I don't mind." + +"Very well. You won't mind if I empty this gin?" + +"No. Befuddle yourself, if you want to." + +Silence. + +Spurlock mused over the previous night. After he had eaten dinner +with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such +as he had heard only in the great concert halls. The picturesque +scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at +the thought of such genius gone to pot. To use it as a passport to +card-tables and gin-bottles! McClintock wasn't having any guests; +at any rate, he had not mentioned the fact. + +Spurlock had sensed what had gone completely over McClintock's +head--that this was the playing of a soul in damnation. His own +peculiar genius--a miracle key to the hidden things in men's +souls--had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. As +the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable +end--death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, +the past, once so full of promise. And, decently as he could, +McClintock was giving the man the boot. + +There was, it might be said, a double illumination. But for Ruth, +he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably +damned. The Dawn Pearl. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was +alone. + +These thoughts, however, came to a broken end. From the window he +saw _The Tigress_ faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was +coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably. Still, he was +puzzled because McClintock had not spoken. + +Presently McClintock came in. "General inspection after lunch; +drying bins, stores and the young palms south-east. It will be hot +work, but it must be done at once." + +"All right, Mr. McClintock." Spurlock lowered his voice. "You are +giving that chap the boot rather suddenly?" + +"Had to." + +"Somebody coming?" + +"Yes. Top-side insurance people. You know all this stuff is +insured. They'll inspect the schooner on the way back," McClintock +lied, cheerfully. + +"The Wastrel seemed to take it all right." + +"Oh, it's a part of the game," said McClintock. "He knows he had to +take it. There are some islands upon which he is not permitted to +land any more." + +At luncheon, preoccupied in thought, Spurlock did not notice the +pallor on Ruth's cheeks or the hunted look in her eyes. She hung +about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve +timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which +refused to rise to her tongue. + +He patted the hand on his sleeve. "Could you get any of the music +last night?" + +"Yes." + +"Wonderful! It's an infernal shame." + +"Couldn't ... couldn't I go with you this afternoon?" + +"Too hot." + +"But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. + +"I'd rather you went over the last four chapters, which I haven't +polished yet. You know what's what. Slash and cut as much as you +please. I'll knock off at tea. By-by." + +The desperate eagerness to go with him--and she dared not voice it! +She watched him until McClintock joined him and the two made off +toward the south. She turned back into the hall. Rollo began to +cavort. + +"No, Rollo; not this afternoon." + +"But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable +dog-talk. + +"Be still!" + +"Oh, come along! I've just got to have my muck bath. I'm burning +up." + +"Rollo!" + +There were no locks or panelled doors in the bungalow; and Rollo +was aware of it. He dashed against the screen door before she could +catch him and made the veranda. Once more he begged; but as Ruth +only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the +jungle. Immediately he was gone, she regretted that she had not +followed. + +Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. +Ruth shivered; she was cold. Alone; not even the dog to warn her, +and Hoddy deep in the island somewhere. Help--should she need +it--from the natives was out of the question. She had not made +friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. + +Yes; she had heard the music the night before. She had resisted as +long as she could; then she had stolen over. She had to make sure, +for the peace of her mind, that this was really the man. One glance +through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. A +momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. + +He had found her by the same agency her father had: native talk, +which flew from isle to isle as fast as proas could carry it. She +was a lone white woman, therefore marked. + +What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? +Music--was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? +But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, +but that had been after he had played for her. + +She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. One +hour later she had gone back to the mission--without the salt. For +the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to +enchanted sounds had been flung wide. For hours after she had not +been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. + +Of course she had often heard sailors hammering out their ditties. +Sometimes ships would stop three or four days for water and +repairs; and the men would carouse in the back room at Morgan's. + +Day after day--five, to be exact--she had returned to Morgan's; and +each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a +kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Sometimes the +music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning +to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled +and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the +storms crashing, thunderous. + +On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her. He told her +something about music, the great world outside. Then he had gone +away. But two weeks later he returned. Again he played for her; and +again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her +soul. He talked with his manner gentle and kindly. Shy, grateful in +her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. She +had even confided to him how lonely it was in the island. He had +promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. +On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is, +she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his +eyes. + +And it had not shocked her! It was this appalling absence of +indignation that had put terror into her heart. The same look she +had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father +had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. And now +she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) +knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. + +Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and +partly because of her father's mandate. Yet the thing hidden within +her called and called. + +Traps, set with peculiar cunning; she had encountered them +everywhere. By following her he had discovered her secret nook in +the rocks. Here she would find candy awaiting her, bits of ribbon, +books. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to +hold her maddening curiosity in check. Books! She knew now what had +saved her--her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set +the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. One day +she had thrown all the gifts into the lagoon, and visited the +secret nook no more. + +And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed +his genius through the mud. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. Between +herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God +could give--love. Hoddy. No other man should touch her; she was +Hoddy's, body and soul, in this life and after. + +She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the +pencils, curiously stirred. Lead, worth nothing at all until Hoddy +picked them up; then they became full of magic. She began to read, +and presently she entered another world, and remained in it for two +hours. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving +drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. Love.... He +could imagine it even if he could not feel it. That was the true +miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and +hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, +when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast +them aside for new imaginings. + +She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. She looked up +quickly. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside +the room. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + + +His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to +confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would +rob her coherent thought. Everything in his favour--the luck of the +gods! The only white men were miles down the coast. She might +scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her +aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. + +"It is droll," he said. "Your father--poor imbecile!--believes we +ran away together. I arranged that he should. So that way is +closed. You never can go back." + +There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. +Wanton!... This, then, was what her father had meant. And he had +gone away without knowing the truth! + +"My proa boys are ready; the wind is brisk; and in an hour we shall +be beyond all pursuit. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry +you? You are _mine_!" + +Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; +they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed +instantly to the surface. Danger, the most terrible she had ever +faced, was substantially in this room. She must kill this man, or +kill herself. She knew it. No tricks would serve. There would be no +mercy in this man. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. +To-morrow he might be sorry; but to-day, this hour! + +She rose, not quickly, but with a dignity which only accentuated +her beauty. + +"And you ran away with a weakling! You denied me for a puppet!" + +"My lawful husband." + +"Ah, yes, yes; lawful husbands in these parts are those who can +take and hold.... As I shall take and hold." The Wastrel advanced. + +"If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors +which lay beside the pencils--Hoddy's! + +The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. "Fire! That was what drew me +to you in the beginning. Well, kill me. Either we go forth +together, or they shall bury me." + +"Beast!" + +For a little while they manoeuvred around the table. Suddenly the +Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. Even in +this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the +scattering pencils. + +He reached for her, and she struck savagely. But with the skill of +a fencer he met the blow and broke it, seizing the wrist. + +"It looks as though, we should go together," he said, pulling her +toward him. + +Ruth was strong in body and soul. She fought him with tooth and +nail. Three times she escaped. Chairs were overturned. Once she +reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his +arms went around her waist. The third time she escaped she reached +the inconsequent barricade of the overturned table. + +"If there is any honour in you, stop and think. I love my husband. +I love him!" She was weak and dizzy: from horror as much as from +physical exertion. She knew that the next time he caught her she +would not be able to free herself. "What good would it do you to +destroy me? For I have courage to kill myself." + +The Wastrel laughed. He had heard this talk before. + +The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would +be no escape. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into +her own heart! Hoddy ... to return and find her either gone or +dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the +sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. + +"Ruth?" + +"Hoddy!" she cried. + +Spurlock stepped into the room. One of those hanging moments +ensued--hypnotic. + +Spurlock had seen Rollo heading for the jungle, and for some reason +he could not explain the incident had bothered him. Fretting and +fidgeting, he had, after an hour or so, turned to McClintock. + +"I'm going back for Ruth." + +"Nonsense!" + +"Something's wrong." + +"Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, +irascibly. He had particular reasons for wanting to keep Spurlock +away from the jetty. + +"I haven't any answer for that; but I'm going back after her. She +wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her." + +"Run along, then." + + * * * * * + +"To me, you dirty blackguard!" cried Spurlock, flinging aside his +helmet. That he was hot and breathless was of no matter; in that +moment he would have faced a dozen Samsons. + +"She was mine before you ever saw her." The Wastrel tried to reach +Ruth's lips. + +"You lie!" + +Head down, fists doubled, Spurlock rushed: only to be met with a +kick which was intended for the groin but which struck the thigh +instead. Even then it sent Spurlock spinning backward, to crash +against the wall. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick. That +would come later. Again he rushed. He dodged the boot this time, +and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody +pulp. + +The Wastrel did not relish this. He flung Ruth aside, careless +whether she fell or not. There was only one idea in his head now--to +batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet +of his love-lorn wife. He brought into service all his Oriental +bar-room tricks. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner +or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous +boot could reach the mark. From all angles he was at a disadvantage--in +weight, skill, endurance. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to +God to defend her. + +"One of us has got to die," he panted. "You've got to kill me to +get out of here alive." + +The Wastrel rushed. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, +toppling the man. In this moment he could have stamped upon the +Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in +him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. Not even for Ruth could +he do such a beastly thing. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent +but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. + +The unequal battle went on. It came to Spurlock suddenly that if +something did not react in his favour inside of five minutes, he +was done. In a side-glance--for the floor was variously encumbered +with overturned objects--he saw one of his paper weights, a +coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. As the +Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, +set himself and threw it. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant +he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned +directly into its path. It struck his forehead, splitting it, and +brought him to his knees. + +Luck. Spurlock understood that his vantage would be temporary; the +Wastrel had been knocked down, not out. Still, the respite was +sufficient for Spurlock to look about for some weapon. Hanging on +the wall was a temple censer, bronze, moulded in the shape of a +lotus blossom with stem and leaves--deadly as a club. He tore it +down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. Spurlock +advanced, the censer swung high. + +The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. The blow had brought +him back to the realm of sober thought. He glanced at Ruth (who had +stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the +contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then +at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular +adventure was finished. + +His hesitation was visible, and Spurlock took advantage of this to +run to Ruth. He put his free arm around her and held the censer +ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they +were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. Without a word or a +gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit +of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose +already described. + +For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the +doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and +twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. + +"I was going to die, Hoddy!" she whispered. "You do love me?" + +"God knows how much!" Suddenly he laid his head on her shoulder. +"But I'm a blackguard, too, Ruth. I had no right to marry you. I +have no right to love you." + +"Why not?" + +"I am a thief, a hunted man." + +"So that is what separated us! Oh, Hoddy, you have wasted so many +wonderful days! Why didn't you tell me?" + +"I couldn't!" He made as though to draw away, but her arms became +hoops of steel. + +"Because you did not wish to hurt me?" + +"Yes. If I let you believe I did not love you, and they found me, +your shame would be negligible." + +"And loving me, you fought me, avoided all my traps! I'm glad I've +been so unhappy. Remember, in your story--look at it, scattered +everywhere!--that line? _We arrive at true happiness only through +labyrinths of misery._" + +"I am a thief, nevertheless." + +"Oh, that!" + +He raised his head, staring at her in blank astonishment. "You +mean, it doesn't matter?" + +"Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you +babbled words. Only a few, but enough for me to understand that +some act had driven you to this part of the world, where the hunted +hide." + +"And you married me, knowing?" + +"I married the man who bought a sing-song girl to give her her +freedom." + +"But I was intoxicated!" + +"So was the man you just fought in this room. There is no hidden +beast in you, Hoddy. I could not love you else." + +"They may find me." + +"Well, if they send you to prison, I'll be outside when they let +you go." + +He took her face between his hands and kissed her on the lips. "I'm +not worth it. You are all that I am or hope to be--the celestial +atom God put into me at the beginning. Now He has taken that out +and given it form and beauty--you!" + +"Wonderful hand!" Ruth seized his right hand and kissed it. "All +the wonderful things it is going to do! If I could only know for +certain that my mother knew how happy I'm going to be!" + +"You love the memory of your mother?" + +"It is a part of my blood ... my beautiful mother!" + +He saw Enschede, putting out to sea, alone, memories and regrets +crowding upon his wake. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. +The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly +far more substantial than the living form. So long as he lived, +Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene +between himself and Ruth's father. + +Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. Gazing into each +other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden +appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained +linen. + +There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. The lips were +straight and pale, the chin aggressive, the nose indomitable. She +was, by certain signs, charged with anger, but she saw upon the +faces of these two young fools the look of angels and an ineffable +kindness breathed upon her withered heart. + +"So, you young fool, I have found you!" she said, harshly. + +Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly +dumfounded. + +"Auntie?" he cried. + +"Yes, Auntie! And to date you have cost me precisely sixteen +thousand dollars--hard earned, every one of them." + +Spurlock wondered if something hadn't suddenly gone awry in his +head. He had just passed through a terrific physical test. Surely +he was imagining this picture. His aunt, here at McClintock's? It +was unbelievable. He righted a chair and sat in it, his face in his +hands. But when he looked again, there she was! + +"I don't understand," he said, finally. + +"You will before I'm done with you. I have come to take you home; +and hereafter my word will be the law. You will obey me out of +common decency. You can scribble if you want to, but after you've +given your eight hours daily to the mills. Sixteen thousand! Mark +me, young man, you'll pay it back through the nose, every dollar of +it!" + +"I owe you nothing." Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; +pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his +throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. "I owe you +nothing," he repeated, dully. + +"Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. They were very +nice about it, in memory of your father. They telephoned that you +had absconded with ten thousand, and that if I would make good the +loss within twenty-four hours, they would not prosecute. I sent my +check for ten thousand; and it has cost me six thousand to find +you. I should say that you owed me considerable." + +Still his brain refused to assimilate the news or to deduce the +tremendous importance of it. + +"You are Ruth?" + +"Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. +This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a +cup of water. + +"Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. Ruth obeyed, not +willingly, but because there was something hypnotic in the +authoritative tone. "Put your arms about me." Ruth did so, but +without any particular fervour. "Kiss me." Ruth slightly brushed +the withered cheek. The aunt laughed. "Love me, love my dog! +Because I've scolded him and told him a few truths, you are ice to +me. Not afraid of me, either." + +"No," said Ruth, pulling back. + +But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her. "A miserly +old woman. Well, I've had to be. All my life I've had to fight +human wolves to hold what I have. So I've grown hard--outside. +What's all this about, anyhow? You. Far away there was the one +woman for this boy of mine--some human being who would understand +the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. But God did +not put you next door. He decided that Hoddy should pay a colossal +price for the Dawn Pearl--shame, loneliness, torment, for only +through these agencies would he learn your worth. The fibre of his +soul had to be tested, queerly, to make him worthy of you. Through +fire and water, through penury and pestilence, your hand will +always be on his shoulder. McClintock wrote me about you; but all I +needed was the sight of your face as it was a moment gone." + +Gently she thrust Ruth aside. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw +light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. + +The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her +arms. "My little Hoddy! You used to love me; and I have always +loved you. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, +believing yourself hunted--it tore my old heart to pieces! For I +knew you. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you +had done. So I set out to find you, even if it cost ten times +sixteen thousand. My poor Hoddy! I had to talk harshly, or break +down and have hysterics. I've come to take you back home. Don't you +understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the +wiser. Have you suffered?" + +"Dear God!... every hour since!" + +"The Spurlock conscience. That is why Wall Street broke your +father; he was honest." + +"Ah, my father! The way you treated him...!" + +"Good money after bad. You haven't heard my side if it, Hoddy. To +shore up a business that never had any foundation, he wanted me to +lend him a hundred thousand; and for his sake as well as for mine I +had to refuse. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the +paper-mills your grandfather left us. He wanted to become a +millionaire. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me +dreadfully to do it. In the end he broke his own heart along with +your mother's. I even offered him back the half interest he had +sold to me. You sent back my Christmas checks." + +"I had to. I couldn't accept anything from you." + +"You might have added 'then'," said Miss Spurlock, drily. + +"I'm an ungrateful dog!" + +"You will be if you don't instantly kiss me the way you used to. +But your face! What happened here just before I came?" + +"Perhaps God wasn't quite sure that I could hold what I had, and +wanted to try me out." + +"And you whipped the beast? I passed him." + +"At any rate, I won, for he went away. But, Auntie, however in this +world did you find this island?" + +She told him. "The chief of the detective agency informed me that +it would be best not to let Mr. O'Higgins know the truth; he +wouldn't be reckless with the funds, then. For a time I didn't know +we'd ever find you. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, +ill, but not dangerously so. Mr. O'Higgins was to keep track of you +until I believed you had had enough punishment. Then he was to +arrest you and bring you home to me. When I learned you were +married, I changed my plans. I did not know what God had in mind +then. Mr. O'Higgins and I landed at Copeley's yesterday; and Mr. +McClintock sent his yacht over for us this morning. Hoddy, what +made you do it? Whatever made you do it?" + +"God knows! Something said to me: _Take it! Take it!_ And ... I +took it. After I took the bills it was too late to turn back. I +drew out what I had saved and boarded the first ship out. Wait!" + +He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and +fetched the old coat. With the aid of a penknife he ripped the +shoulder seams and drew out the ten one-thousand dollar bills. +Gravely he placed them in his aunt's hand. + +"You didn't spend it?" + +"I never intended to spend it--any more than I really intended to +steal it. That's the sort of fool your nephew is!" + +"Not even a good time!" said the aunt, whimsically, as she stuffed +the bills into her reticule. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing +but torment and remorse ... and Ruth! Children, put your arms +around me. In a little while--to-morrow--all these tender, +beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was +yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. I'll be wanting my +sixteen thousand." + +"Six," he corrected. + +"Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. "Think of me +forgetting ten thousand so quickly!" + +"Go to, you old fraud! You'll never fool me again. God bless you, +Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if +you want me to. Home!--which I never hoped to see again. To dream +and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. And if +sometimes I grow heady--and it's in the blood--remind me of this +day when you took me out of hell--a thief." + +"Hoddy!" said Ruth. "You mustn't!" + +"Nothing can change that, Dawn Pearl. Auntie has taken the nails +out of my palms, but the scars will always be there." + +There fell upon the three the silence of perfect understanding; and +in this silence each saw a vision. To Ruth came that of the great +world, her lawful lover at her side; and there would be glorious +books into each of which he would unconsciously put a little of her +soul along with his own, needing her always. The spinster saw +herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth--a +flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. Spurlock's vision was +oddly of the past. He saw Enschede, making the empty sea, alone, +alone, forever alone. + +"Children," said the aunt, first to awake, "be young fools as long +as God will permit you. And don't worry about the six thousand, +Hoddy. I'll call it my wedding gift. There's nothing so sad in this +world as an old fool," she added. + +The three of them laughed joyously. + +And Rollo, who had been waiting for some encouraging sound, +presented himself at the doorway. He was caked with dried muck. He +was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, +there was hope. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump +wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if +there was any forgiveness visible. There was. + + + +~THE END~ + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Photoplay The Ragged Edge_ +MIMI PALMERI AS RUTH ENSCHEDE ALFRED LUNT AS HOWARD SPURLOCK] + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Photoplay The Ragged Edge_ +A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY] + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Photoplay The Ragged Edge_ +A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY] + +[Illustration: _Distinctive Pictures Photoplay The Ragged Edge_ +A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY] + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ragged Edge, by Harold MacGrath + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RAGGED EDGE *** + +***** This file should be named 15614-8.txt or 15614-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/6/1/15614/ + +Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Clare Elliott and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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