diff options
Diffstat (limited to '43069.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 43069.txt | 20571 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 20571 deletions
diff --git a/43069.txt b/43069.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 24a7b56..0000000 --- a/43069.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,20571 +0,0 @@ - THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE - - - - -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 http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - - -Title: The Hundredth Chance -Author: Ethel M. Dell -Release Date: June 30, 2013 [EBook #43069] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - -[Illustration: WITH THE UTMOST GENTLENESS HE LAID HIS HAND AGAIN UPON -HERS. "ARE YOU AFRAID TO SAY IT?" HE SAID. Drawn by E. L. Crompton. -(_See page_ 98)] - - - - - The - Hundredth Chance - - - BY - - ETHEL M. DELL - - AUTHOR OF - THE LAMP IN THE DESERT, - THE SWINDLER, ETC. - - - FRONTISPIECE BY - EDNA CROMPTON - - - - NEW YORK - GROSSET & DUNLAP - PUBLISHERS - - Made in the United States of America - - - - - COPYRIGHT. 1917 - BY - ETHEL M. DELL - - - - The Way of an Eagle - The Knave of Diamonds - The Rocks of Valpre - The Swindler - The Keeper of the Door - Bars of Iron - Rosa Mundi - The Hundredth Chance - The Safety Curtain - Greatheart - The Lamp in the Desert - The Tidal Wave - The Top of the World - The Obstacle Race - - - This edition is issued under arrangement with the publishers - G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK AND LONDON - - - - The Knickerbocker Press, New York - - - - - I Dedicate This Book - to - My Old Friend - W. S. H. - In Affectionate Remembrance of Many Kindnesses - - - - - "The plowman shall overtake the reaper, - And the treader of grapes him that soweth seed." - Obadiah 9-13. - - - - - CONTENTS - - _PART 1_ - - THE START - -I.--Beggars -II.--The Idol -III.--The New Acquaintance -IV.--The Accepted Suitor -V.--In the Dark -VI.--The Unwilling Guest -VII.--The Magician -VIII.--The Offer -IX.--The Real Man -X.--The Head of the Family -XI.--The Declaration of War -XII.--The Reckoning -XIII.--The Only Port -XIV.--The Way of Escape -XV.--The Closed Door -XVI.--The Champion -XVII.--The Wedding Morning -XVIII.--The Wedding Night -XIX.--The Day After -XX.--A Friend of the Family -XXI.--The Old Life -XXII.--The Faithful Widower -XXIII.--The Narrowing Circle -XXIV.--Brothers -XXV.--Misadventure -XXVI.--The Word Unspoken -XXVII.--The Token -XXVIII.--The Visitor -XXIX.--Her Other Self -XXX.--The Rising Current -XXXI.--Light Relief -XXXII.--The Only Solution -XXXIII.--The Furnace -XXXIV.--The Sacrifice -XXXV.--The Offer of Freedom -XXXVI.--The Bond - - - _PART II_ - - THE RACE - -I.--Husks -II.--The Poison Plant -III.--Confidences -IV.--The Letter -V.--Rebellion -VI.--The Problem -VII.--The Land of Moonshine -VIII.--The Warning -IX.--The Invitation -X.--The Mistake -XI.--The Reason -XII.--Refuge -XIII.--The Lamp before the Altar -XIV.--The Open Door -XV.--The Downward Path -XVI.--The Revelation -XVII.--The Last Chance -XVIII.--The Whirlpool -XIX.--The Outer Darkness -XX.--Deliverance -XXI.--The Poison Fruit -XXII.--The Loser -XXIII.--The Storm Wind -XXIV.--The Great Burden -XXV.--The Blow -XXVI.--The Deed of Gift -XXVII.--The Impossible -XXVIII.--The First of the Vultures -XXIX.--The Dutiful Wife -XXX.--The Lane of Fire -XXXI.--The New Boss -XXXII.--Old Scores -Epilogue: The Finish - - - - - The Hundredth Chance - - - - PART I - - THE START - - - CHAPTER I - - BEGGARS - - -"My dear Maud, I hope I am not lacking in proper pride. But it is an -accepted--though painful--fact that beggars cannot be choosers." - -Lady Brian spoke with plaintive emphasis the while she drew an elaborate -initial in the sand at her feet with the point of her parasol. - -"I cannot live in want," she said, after a thoughtful moment or two. -"Besides, there is poor little Bunny to be considered." Another -thoughtful pause; then: "What did you say, dear?" - -Lady Brian's daughter made an abrupt movement without taking her eyes -off the clear-cut horizon; beautiful eyes of darkest, deepest blue under -straight black brows that gave them a somewhat forbidding look. There -was nothing remarkable about the rest of her face. It was thin and -sallow and at the moment rather drawn, not a contented face, and yet -possessing a quality indefinable that made it sad rather than bitter. -Her smile was not very frequent, but when it came it transfigured her -utterly. No one ever pictured that smile of hers beforehand. It came so -brilliantly, so suddenly, like a burst of sunshine over a brown and -desolate landscape, making so vast a difference that all who saw it for -the first time marvelled at the unexpected glow. - -But it was very far from her face just now. In fact she looked as if -she could never smile again as she said: "Bunny would sooner die of -starvation than have you do this thing. And so would I." - -"You are so unpractical," sighed Lady Brian. "And really, you know, -dear, I think you are just a wee bit snobbish too, you and Bunny. Mr. -Sheppard may be a self-made man, but he is highly respectable." - -"Oh, is he?" said Maud, with a twist of the lips that made her look -years older than the woman beside her. - -"I'm sure I don't know why you should question it," protested Lady -Brian. "He is extremely respectable. He is also extremely kind,--in -fact, a friend in need." - -"And a beast!" broke in her daughter, with sudden passionate vehemence. -"A hateful, familiar beast! Mother, how can you endure the man? How -can you for a single moment demean yourself by the bare idea of--of -marrying him?" - -Lady Brian sighed again. "It isn't as if I had asked you to marry him," -she pointed out. "I never even asked you to marry Lord Saltash, -although--as you must now admit--it was the one great chance of your -life." - -Again Maud made that curious, sharp movement of hers that was as if some -inner force urged her strongly to spring up and run away. - -"We won't discuss Lord Saltash," she said, with lips that were suddenly -a little hard. - -"Then I don't see why we should discuss Giles Sheppard either," said -Lady Brian, with a touch of querulousness. "Of course I know he doesn't -compare well with your poor father. Second husbands so seldom do--which -to my mind is one of the principal objections to marrying twice. But--as -I said before--beggars cannot be choosers and something has got to be -sacrificed, so there is an end of the matter." - -Maud turned her eyes slowly away from the horizon, swept with them the -nearer expanse of broad, tumbling sea, and finally brought them to rest -upon her mother's face. - -Lady Brian was forty-five, but she looked many years younger. She was a -very pretty woman, delicate-featured, softly-tinted, with a species of -appealing charm about her that all but the stony-hearted few found it -hard to resist. She put her daughter wholly in the shade, but then Maud -never attempted to charm anyone. She had apparently no use for the -homage that was as the very breath of life to her mother's worldly -little soul. She never courted popularity. All her being seemed to be -bound up in that of her young brother who had been a helpless cripple -from his babyhood, and dependent upon her care. The ten years that -stretched between them were as nought to these two. They were pals; and -if the boy tyrannized freely over her, she was undoubtedly the only -person in the world for whom he entertained the smallest regard. She -had lavished all a mother's love upon him during the whole of his -fifteen years, and she alone knew how much had been sacrificed before -the shrine of her devotion. He filled all the empty spaces in her -heart. - -But now--now that they were practically penniless--the great question -arose: Who was to provide for Bunny? Lady Brian had lived more or less -comfortably upon credit for the past five years. It was certainly not -her fault that this bruised reed had broken at last in her hand. She -had tried every device to strengthen it. And then too there had always -been the possibility that Maud might marry Lord Saltash, who was -extremely wealthy and--by fits and starts--very sedulous in his -attentions. - -It was of course very unfortunate that he should have been connected -with that unfortunate scandal in the Divorce Court; but then everyone -knew that he had led a somewhat giddy life ever since his succession to -the title. Besides, nothing had been proved, and the unlucky affair had -fallen through in consequence. It was really too absurd of Maud to -treat it seriously, if indeed she had treated it seriously. Not being -in her daughter's confidence, Lady Brian was uncertain on this point. -But, whatever the circumstances, Charlie Saltash had obviously abandoned -his allegiance. And Maud--poor girl!--had no one else to fall back -upon. Of course it was very sweet of her to devote herself so -unsparingly to dear little Bunny, but Lady Brian was privately of the -opinion that she wasted a good deal of valuable time in his service. -She was twenty-five already, and--now that the crash had come--little -likely to find another suitor. - -They had come down to this cheery little South Coast resort to recruit -and look around them. Obviously something would have to be done, and -done very quickly, or they would end their days in the workhouse. - -Lady Brian had relations in the North, but, as she was wont to express -it, they were not inclined to be kind to her. Her runaway marriage with -Sir Bernard Brian in her irresponsible girlhood had caused something of -a split between them. The wild Irish baronet had never been regarded -with a favourable eye, and her subsequent sojourn in Ireland had -practically severed all connection with them. - -Sir Bernard's death and her subsequent migration to London had not -healed the breach. She was regarded as flighty and unreliable. There -was no knowing what her venture might be, and, save for a very -occasional correspondence with an elderly bachelor uncle who was careful -not to betray too keen an interest in her affairs, she was left severely -alone. - -Therefore she had too much pride to ask for help, sustaining herself -instead upon the kindness of friends till even this prop at length gave -way; and she, Maud and poor little Bunny (whose very empty title was all -he possessed in the world) found themselves stranded at Fairharbour at -the dead end of the season with no means of paying their way even there. - -Not wholly stranded, however! Lady Brian had stayed at Fairharbour -before at the Anchor Hotel down by the fishing-quay--"the Anchovy Hotel" -Bunny called it on account of its situation. It was not a very -high-class establishment, but Lady Brian had favoured it on a previous -occasion because Lord Saltash had a yacht in the vicinity, and it had -seemed such a precious opportunity for dear Maud. He also had large -racing-stables in the neighbourhood of the downs behind the little town, -and there was no knowing when one or other of his favourite pastimes -might tempt him thither. - -Nothing had come of the previous visit, however, save a pleasant, -half-joking acquaintance with Mr. Sheppard, the proprietor of the Anchor -Hotel, during the progress of which Lady Brian's appealing little ways -had laid such firm hold of the worthy landlord's rollicking fancy that -she had found it quite difficult to tear herself away. - -Matters had not then come to such a pass, and she had finally extricated -herself with no more than a laughing promise to return as soon as the -mood took her. Maud had been wholly unaware of the passage between them -which had been of a very slight and frothy order; and not till she found -herself established in some very shabby lodgings within a stone's throw -of the Anchor Hotel did the faintest conception of her mother's reason -for choosing Fairharbour as their city of refuge begin to dawn in her -brain. - -She was very fully alive to it now, however, and hotly, furiously -resentful, albeit she had begun already to realize (how bitterly!) that -no resentment on her part could avert the approaching catastrophe. As -Lady Brian pathetically said, something had got to be sacrificed. - -And there was Bunny! She could not leave Bunny to try to earn a living. -He was utterly dependent upon her--so dependent that it did not seem -possible that he could live without her. No, she could see no way of -escape. But it was too horrible, too revolting! She was sure, too, -that her mother had a sneaking liking for the man, and that fact -positively nauseated her. That awful person! That bounder! - -"So, you see, dear, it really can't be helped," Lady Brian said, rising -and opening her sunshade with a dainty air of finality. "Why his fancy -should have fallen upon me I cannot imagine. But--all things -considered--it is perhaps very fortunate that it has. He is quite ready -to take us all in, and that, even you must admit, is really very -generous of him." - -Maud's eyes travelled again to the far sky-line. They had a look in -them as of a caged thing yearning for freedom. - -"It is getting late," said Lady Brian. - -Sharply she turned. "Mother," she said, "I shall write to Uncle Edward. -This is too much. I am sure he will not condemn us to this." - -Lady Brian sighed a trifle petulantly. "You will do as you like, dear, -no doubt. But pray do not write on my account! Whatever he may be -moved to do or say can make no difference to me now." - -"Why not?" Curtly her daughter put the question. The beautiful brows -were painfully drawn. - -"Because," said Lady Brian plaintively, "it will be too late--so far as -I am concerned." - -"What do you mean?" Again, almost like a challenge, the girl flung the -question. - -Lady Brian began to walk along the beach. "I mean, dear, that I have -promised to give Mr. Sheppard his answer to-night." - -"But--but--Mother--" there was almost a cry in the words, "you -can't--you can't have quite decided upon what the answer will be!" - -Lady Brian sighed again. "Oh, do let us have a little common-sense!" -she said, with just a touch of irritation. "Of course I have decided. -The decision has been simply thrust upon me. I had no choice." - -"Then you mean to say Yes?" Maud's voice fell suddenly flat. She -turned her face again to the open sea, a glint of desperation in her -eyes. - -"Yes," said Lady Brian very definitely. "I mean to say Yes." - -"Then Heaven help us!" said Maud, under her breath. - -"My dear, don't be profane!" said Lady Brian. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE IDOL - - -"I say, Maud, what a dratted long time you've been! What on earth have -you and the mother been doing?" Young Bernard Brian turned his head -towards his sister with the chafing, impatient movement of one bitterly -at variance with life. "You swore you wouldn't be long," he said. - -"I know. I'm sorry." Maud came to his side and stooped over him. "I -couldn't help it, Bunny," she said. "I haven't been enjoying myself." - -He looked up at her suspiciously. "Oh, it's never your fault," he said, -with dreary sarcasm. - -Maud said nothing. She only laid a smoothing hand on his crumpled brow, -and after a moment bent and kissed it. - -He jerked his head away from her caress, opening and shutting his hands -in a nervous way he had acquired in babyhood. "I've had a perfectly -sickening time," he said. "There's a brute with a gramophone upstairs -been driving me nearly crazy. For goodness' sake, see if you can put a -stop to it before to-night comes! I shall go clean off my head if you -don't!" - -"I'll do my best, dear," Maud promised. - -"I wish to goodness we could get away from this place," the boy said -restlessly. "Even the old 'Anchovy' was preferable. I loathe this -hole." - -"Oh, so do I!" said Maud, with sudden vehemence. And then she checked -herself quickly as if half-ashamed. "Of course it might be worse, you -know, Bunny," she said. - -Bunny curled a derisive lip, and looked out of the window. - -"Did you really like 'The Anchor' better?" Maud asked, after a moment. - -He drew his brows together--beautiful brows like her own, betraying a -sensitive, not too well-balanced temperament. "It was better," he said. - -Maud sat down beside his sofa with a slight gesture of weariness. "You -would like to go back there?" she asked. - -He looked at her sharply. "We are going?" - -She met his look with steady eyes. "Mr. Sheppard has offered to take us -in," she said. - -The boy frowned still more. "What! For nothing?" he said. - -"No; not for nothing." The girl was frowning too--the frown of one -confronted with a difficult task. "Nobody ever does anything for -nothing," she said. - -"Well? What is it?" Bunny's eyes suddenly narrowed and became shrewd. -"He doesn't want you to marry him, I suppose?" - -"Good gracious, Bunny!" Maud gasped the words in sheer horror. "What -ever made you think of that?" - -Bunny laughed--a cracked, difficult laugh. "Because he's bounder enough -for anything; and you're so beastly fond of him, aren't you?" - -"Oh, don't!" Maud said. "Really don't, Bunny! It's too horrible to -joke about. No, it isn't me he wants to marry. It's--it's----" - -"The mother?" queried Bunny, without perturbation. "Oh, he's quite -welcome to her. It's a pity he's been such a plaguey time making up his -mind. He might have known she'd jump at him." - -"But, Bunny--" Maud was gazing at him in utter amazement. There were -times when the working of her young brother's brain was wholly beyond -her comprehension. "You can't be--pleased!" she said. - -"I'm never pleased," said Bunny sweepingly. "I hate everything and -everybody--except you, and you don't count. The man's a brute of -course; but if the mother has a mind to marry him, why on earth -shouldn't she? Especially if it's going to make us more comfortable!" - -"Comfortable on his money!" There was scorn unutterable in Maud's -voice. Her eyes were tragically proud. - -"But, why not?" said Bunny, with cynical composure. "We shall never be -comfortable on our own, that's certain. If the man is fool enough to -want to lay out his money in that way, why, let him!" - -"Live on his--charity!" said Maud very bitterly. - -The boy's mouth twisted. "We've got to live on someone's," he said. -"There's nothing new in that. I think you're rather an ass, Maud. It's -no good being proud when you can't afford it. We can't earn a living -for ourselves, so someone must do it for us, that's all." - -"Bunny!" There was passionate protest in the exclamation; but he passed -it by. - -"What's the good of arguing?" he said irritably. "We can't help -ourselves. If the mother would rather marry that bawling beast Sheppard -than starve on a doorstep with us, who's to blame her? I suppose we're -included in the bargain for good, are we?" - -Maud nodded mutely, her fingers locked and straining against each other. - -Bunny screwed his face up for a moment. Then: "There's that filthy -gramophone again!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Go and stop it, I say! I -can't bear the noise! I won't bear it! It's--it's--it's infernal! -That's what it is!" He flung his arms up frenziedly above his head, and -then suddenly uttered an anguished cry of pain. - -Maud was on her feet on the instant. She caught the arms, drew them -firmly down again. "Oh, don't, dear, don't!" she said. "You know you -can't!" - -The boy's face was convulsed. "I didn't know! I can sometimes! Oh, -Maud, I hate life! I hate it! I hate it!" - -His voice choked, became a gasping moan, ceased altogether. - -Maud stooped over him. His eyes were shut, his face white as death. -"Bunny, Bunny darling!" she whispered passionately. "I would give--all -the world--to make it better for you!" - -There fell a silence, while gradually the awful paroxysm began to pass. - -Then very abruptly Bunny opened his eyes. "No, you wouldn't!" he said -unexpectedly. - -"Indeed I would!" she said very earnestly. - -"You wouldn't!" he reiterated, with the paralysing conviction that -refuses to hear any reasoning. "If you would, you'd have married Lord -Saltash years ago, and been rich enough to pay one of the big men to put -me right." - -She winced sharply. "Bunny! You're not to talk to me of Lord Saltash. -It isn't kind. He is the one man in the world I--couldn't marry." - -"Rot!" said Bunny. "You know you're in love with him." - -"I know I couldn't marry him," she said, a piteous quiver in her voice. -"It is cruel to--to--" She broke off. - -"All right," said Bunny waiving the point. "Find some other rich man -then! I don't care who it is. You'll have to pretty soon. We shall -neither of us stand this Sheppard person for long." - -"If I could only--somehow--make a living for the two of us!" the girl -said. - -"You can't!" Again deadly conviction swept aside argument. "You're not -clever enough, and you haven't time--unless you propose to leave me to -the tender mercies of the Sheppard. It would be a quick way out of the -difficulty so far as I am concerned anyway." - -"Of course I could never leave you!" Maud said quickly. - -"All right then. Marry--and be quick about it!" said Bunny. - -He turned his drawn, white face to the window--a face of unconscious -pathos that often stirred his sister to the depths. Youth--and the -gladness of youth--had never existed for Bunny Brian. Life for so long -as he could remember had always been a long, dreary round of pain and -disappointment, of restless nights and dragging, futile days. Only Maud, -who shared them all, knew to the uttermost the woeful bitterness of the -lad's existence. It hurt her cruelly, that bitterness, moving her to a -perpetual self-sacrifice, of the extent of which even Bunny had small -conception. - -She identified herself completely with him, and had so done since the -tenth year of her life when he had come--a puny, wailing baby--into the -world to fill the void of her childish heart. She had, as it were, -grown up in his service, worn and sallow and thin, with the sharp edges -of nerves that were always strung up to too high a pitch--the nerves of -one who scarcely ever knew a whole night of undisturbed rest. They had -told upon her, those years of anxiety and service; they had shorn away -her youth also. Only once--and that for how short a time!--had life -ever seemed desirable in her eyes. A brief and splendid dream had been -hers, spreading like a golden sunrise over her whole horizon. But the -dream had faded, the sunrise had been extinguished in heavy clouds that -had never again parted. She knew life now for a grey, grey dreariness -on which no light could ever shine again. She was tired--tired to the -soul of her; and she was only twenty-five. - -"Maud!" Bunny's voice half-irritable, half-eager, broke in upon her. -"See that fellow down there trying to make his nag go into the sea? -It's going to be a big job. Let's go down and see it done!" - -Bunny's long chair was in a corner of the room. It was no light task to -get it in and out of the house; but Maud was used to the management of -it. The weight of it went in with the other burdens of life. She was -used also to lifting Bunny's poor little wasted body, and no wish of his -that she could gratify was ever left neglected. Moreover, the offensive -clamour of the gramophone overhead added to her alacrity to obey his -behests. And the day was bright and warm, with a south wind blowing -over a sparkling sea. - -It would do Bunny good to go out, especially if he desired to go. It -was not always that he would consent to do so after a sleepless night. -But there was an extraordinary vitality in the meagre frame, a fevered, -driving force that never seemed to be wholly exhausted. There were -times when inaction was absolute torture to him, and Maud was ready to -go until she dropped if only she could in some measure alleviate that -chafing restlessness. She counted it luck indeed if these moods of fret -and turmoil raged during the day. She was better able to cope with them -then, and it gave the night a better chance. Poor lad! He could fight -his own way through the days, but the long-drawn-out misery of nights of -incessant pain broke him down--how completely only Maud ever knew. - -So, gladly she wheeled him forth on that afternoon of late October, down -the hill to the sun-bathed shore. - -That hill taxed her physical powers to the uttermost. Secretly she -dreaded the ascent, but not for worlds would she have had Bunny know -it--Bunny who depended solely upon her for the very few pleasures that -ever came his way. To the last ounce of her strength she was dedicated -to the service of her idol. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE NEW ACQUAINTANCE - - -They reached the sunny stretch of parade in time to see the young -chestnut that had excited Bunny's interest being coaxed along the edge -of the water by his rider. The animal was covered with froth, and -evidently in a ferment of nervous excitement. The man who rode him sat -loosely in the saddle as if the tussle in progress were of very minor -importance in his estimation. He kept the fretting creature's head -turned towards the water, however, and at intervals he patted the -streaming neck and spoke a few words of encouragement. - -At Bunny's request his chair was drawn to the edge of the parade, and -from here he and Maud watched the progress of the battle. A battle of -wills it undoubtedly was, though there was nothing in the man's attitude -to indicate any strain. He was obviously one who knew how to bide his -time, thick-set, bull-necked, somewhat bullet-headed, with a face of -even redness and a short, blunt nose that looked aggressively confident. - -"Wonder if he'll do it," said Bunny. - -Maud wondered too, realizing that the task would be no easy one. The -horse was plainly on edge with apprehension, and her sympathies went out -to him. Somehow she did not want to see him conquered. In fact, not -greatly admiring the physiognomy of his rider, she hoped the horse would -win. - -Stepping with extreme daintiness, as if he expected the ground to open -and swallow him, the animal sidled past, and she caught the gleam of a -wicked eye as he went. There was mischief mingled with his fear. He -evidently was not feeling particularly kindly disposed towards the man -who rode him. The loose seat of the latter made her wonder if he were -wholly aware of this. - -"He'll be thrown if he isn't careful," she said, half to herself and -half to Bunny, who was watching with the keenest interest. - -"Hope he'll tumble into the water," said Bunny, who enjoyed dramatic -situations. - -The pair had passed them and were continuing their sidling progress -along the beach. The man still appeared preoccupied, the horse still -half-frightened, half-mischievous. Some fifty yards they covered thus; -then the figure in the saddle slowly stiffened. Aware of an impending -change of treatment, the animal began to jib with his head in the air. -An odd little thrill went through Maud, a feeling as of electricity in -the air. It was almost a sensation of foreboding. And then clean and -grim as a pistol-shot, she heard the crack of a whip on the creature's -quivering flank. - -It was a well-earned correction, deliberately administered, one stinging -cut, delivered with a calculation that knew exactly where to strike. -But the horse, a young animal, leapt into the air as if he had been shot -indeed, and landing again almost on the same spot began forwith to -buck-jump in frenzied efforts to free himself of the task-master whose -lash was so unerring. - -The whip descended again with absolute precision. It looked almost like -a feat of jugglery to Maud's fascinated eyes. The horse uttered a -furious squeal. He was being forced, literally forced, into the hated -water, and he knew it, set himself with all the fiery unreason of youth -to resist, and incidentally to receive a punishment none the less -painful on account of its extreme deliberation. - -As for his rider, he kept his seat without apparent effort. He kept his -temper also to all outward appearance. He even in the thick of the -struggle abandoned force and tried coaxing again. It was only when this -failed that it seemed to the watching girl that a certain quality of -implacability began to manifest itself. His movements were no less -studied, but they seemed to her to become relentless. From that moment -she knew with absolute certainty that there could be but one end to the -struggle. - -Some dim suspicion of the same thing must have penetrated the animal's -intelligence also, for almost from the same moment he seemed to lose -heart. He still bucked away from the water and leapt in futile frenzy -under the unsparing whip; but his fury was past. He no longer tried to -fling his rider over his head. He seemed to be fighting to save his -pride rather than for any other reason. - -But his pride had to go. Endurance had its limits, and his smooth, -clipped flanks were smarting intolerably. Very suddenly he gave in and -walked into the water. - -It foamed alarmingly round his legs, and he started in genuine terror -and tried to turn; but on the instant a hand was on his neck, a square, -sustaining hand that patted and consoled. - -"Now, don't be a fool horse any longer!" said his conqueror. "Don't you -know it's going to do you good? Go on and face it!" - -He went on, splashing his rider thoroughly, first in sheer nervousness, -later in undisguised content. - -He came out of the water some five minutes later, a wiser and -considerably less headstrong youngster than he had entered it, and -walked serenely along the edge as if he had been accustomed to it all -his life. When the spreading foam washed round his hoofs, he did not so -much as lay an ear. He had surrendered his pride, and he did not seem -to feel the sacrifice. - -"A beastly tame ending!" said Bunny in frank disappointment. "I hoped -the fellow was going to break his neck." - -The horseman was passing immediately below them. He looked up, and Maud -coloured a guilty scarlet, realizing that he had overheard the remark. -He had the most startlingly bright eyes she had ever seen. They met -hers with a directness that seemed to pierce straight through her, and -passed on unblinkingly to the boy in the long chair. There was something -lynx-like in the straight regard, something so deliberately intent that -it seemed formidable. His clean-shaven, weather-beaten face had an -untamed, primitive look about it, as of one born in the wilderness. His -mouth was rugged rather than coarse, but it was not the mouth of -civilization. - -Bunny, who was not easily daunted, looked hard back at him, with the -brazen expression of one challenging a rebuke. But the horseman refused -the challenge, passing on without a word. - -"I'm tired," said Bunny, in sudden discontent. "Let's go back!" - -When he spoke in that tone, he was invariably beyond coaxing. Maud -turned the chair without protest, and prepared to make that exhausting -ascent. - -"How slow you are to-day!" said Bunny peevishly. "I hate this beastly -hill. You make me go up it on my head!" - -The slant was certainly acute. Maud murmured sympathy. "I would pull -you up if I could," she said. - -"You've never even tried," said Bunny. - -He was plainly in an exacting mood. Her heart sank a little lower. -"It's no use trying, darling," she said. "I know I can't. But I won't -take a minute longer over it than I can help." - -"You never do anything decently," said Bunny in disgust. - -Maud made no rejoinder. She bent in silence to her task. - -Bunny could not see her face, and she strove desperately to control her -panting breath. - -"You puff like a grampus," the boy said discontentedly. - -There came the quick fall of a horse's hoofs behind them, and Maud bent -her flushed face a little lower. She did not want to meet that piercing -regard again. But the hoof-beats slackened behind her, and a voice -spoke--a voice so curiously soft that at the first sound she almost -believed it to be that of a woman. - -"Say! That's too heavy a job for you." - -She paused--it was inevitable--and looked round. - -In the same moment he slid to the ground--a square, sturdy figure, -shorter than she had imagined him when he was in the saddle, horsey of -aspect, clumsy of build, possessing a breadth of chest that seemed to -indicate vast strength. - -Again those extremely bright eyes met hers, red-brown, intensely alive. -She felt as if they saw too much; they made her vividly conscious of her -hot face and labouring heart. They embarrassed her, made her resentful. - -She was too breathless to speak; perhaps she might not have done so in -any case. But he did not wait for that. He pushed forward till he stood -beside her. - -"You take my animal!" he said. "He's quiet enough now." - -She might have refused, had she had time to consider. But he gave her -none. He almost thrust the bridle into her hands, and the next moment -he had taken her place behind the invalid-chair and begun briskly to -push it up the hill. - -Maud followed, leading the now docile horse, divided between annoyance -and gratitude. Bunny seemed struck dumb also, though whether with -embarrassment or merely surprise she could not tell. - -At the top of the steep ascent the stranger stopped and faced round. -"Thanks!" he said briefly, and took his horse back into his own keeping. - -Maud stood, feeling shy and awkward, while he set his foot in the -stirrup. Then, ere he mounted, with a desperate effort she spoke. - -"It was very kind of you. Thank you very much." - -Her voice sounded coldly formal by reason of her extreme discomfiture. -She would have given a good deal to have avoided speaking altogether. -But the man stopped dead and looked at her as though she had attempted -to detain him. - -"You've nothing to thank me for," he said, in that queer, soft voice of -his. "As I said before, it's too heavy a job for you. You'll get a -groggy heart if you keep on with it." - -There was no intentional familiarity in the speech; but it made her -stiffen instinctively. - -"It was very kind of you," she repeated, and with a bow that was even -more freezingly polite than her words she turned to the chair and -prepared to walk on. - -But at this point Bunny suddenly found his voice in belated -acknowledgment of the service rendered. "Hi! You! Stop a minute! -Thanks for pushing me up this beastly hill!" - -The stranger was still standing with his foot in the stirrup; but at the -sound of Bunny's voice he took it out again and came to the boy's side, -leading his horse. - -"What a beauty!" said Bunny, admiringly. "Let me touch him, I say!" - -"Oh, don't!" Maud said nervously. "He looked so savage just now." - -"He's not savage," said the horse's owner, and pulled the animal's nose -down to Bunny's eager, caressing hand. - -The creature was plainly suspicious. He tried to avoid the caress, but -his master and Bunny were equally insistent, and he finally submitted. - -"He's not savage," his rider said again. "He's only young and a bit -heady; wants a little shaping--like all youngsters." - -Bunny's shrewd eyes flashed him a rapid glance, meeting the red-brown -eyes deliberately scrutinizing him. With a certain blunt courage that -was his, he tackled the situation. - -"I say, did you hear what I said down on the parade?" - -The man smiled a little, still watching Bunny's red face. "Did you mean -me to hear?" he enquired. - -"No," said Bunny, staring back, half-fascinated and half-defiant. - -"All right then. I didn't," the horseman said. - -Bunny's expression changed. He smiled; and when he smiled his lost -youth looked out of his worn face. "Good for you!" he said. "I say, I -hope we shall see you again some time." - -"If you are here for long, you probably will," the man made answer. - -"Do you live here?" Bunny's voice was eager. His eyes sparkled with -interest. - -The man nodded. "Yes, I'm a fixture. And you?" - -"Oh, we're going to be fixtures too," said Bunny. "This is my sister -Maud. I am Sir Bernard Brian." - -Maud's ready blush rose burningly. She fidgeted to be gone. Bunny's -swaggering announcement made her long to sink through the earth. She -dreaded to hear his listener laugh, even looked up in surprise when no -laugh came. - -He was surveying Bunny with that same unblinking regard that had -disconcerted her. The slight smile was still on his face, but it was -not a derisive smile. - -After a moment he said, "My name is Bolton--Jake Bolton. Think you can -remember that?" - -"What are you?" said Bunny, with frank curiosity. - -"I?" The faint smile suddenly broadened, showing teeth that were large -and very white. "I am a groom," the horseman said. - -"Are you?" The boy's eyes opened wide. "Then you're not a mister!" he -said. - -"Oh no, I'm not a mister!" There was certainly a laugh in the womanish -voice this time, but it held no open ridicule. "I'm plain Jake Bolton. -You can call me Bolton or Jake--which ever you like. Good day, Sir -Bernard!" - -He backed his horse with the words, and mounted. - -Maud did not look at him. She felt too overwhelmed. Moreover, she was -sure--painfully sure--that he looked at her, and she thought there must -be at least amusement in his eyes. - -With relief she heard him turn his horse and trot down the hill. He had -not even been going their way, then. Her face burned afresh. - -"What a queer fish!" said Bunny. "Hullo! What are you so red about?" - -"I wish you wouldn't tell people your title," she said. "They only -laugh." - -"He didn't laugh when I told him," said Bunny. "And why shouldn't I? -I've a right to it." - -He would not see her point she knew. But she made an attempt to -explain. "He would have liked to call himself a gentleman," she said. -"But--he didn't." - -"That's quite different," said Bunny loftily. "He knows he isn't one." - -Maud abandoned the argument then, because--though it was against her -judgment--she found that she wanted to agree. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE ACCEPTED SUITOR - - -"Hark to the brute!" said Bunny. - -A long, loud peal of laughter was echoing through the house. Maud -shuddered at the sound. The noisy wooing of her mother's suitor made -her feel physically sick. But for Bunny, she would have fled -incontinently from the man's proximity. Because of Bunny, she sat at a -rickety writing-table in a corner of the room and penned an urgent, -almost a desperate, appeal to the bachelor uncle in the North to deliver -them from the impending horror. No other consideration on earth would -have forced such an appeal from her. She felt literally distraught that -night. She was being dragged, a helpless prisoner, to the house of -bondage. - -Again came that loud, coarse laugh, and with it the opening of a door on -the other side of the passage. - -"Watch out!" warned Bunny. "They're coming!" - -There was a hint of nervousness in his voice also. She heard it, and -swiftly rose. When their own door opened, she was standing beside him, -very upright, very pale, rigidly composed. - -Her mother entered, flushed and smiling. Behind her came her accepted -lover,--a large, florid man, handsome in ascertain coarse style, with a -dissipated look about the eyes which told its own tale. Maud quivered -in impotent resentment whenever she encountered those eyes. They could -not look upon a woman with reverence. - -He strolled into the room in her mother's wake, fondling a dark -moustache, in evident good humour with himself and all the world. - -Lady Brian ran to her daughter with all a girl's impetuosity. "My dear, -it's all settled!" she declared. "Giles and I are going to be married, -and we're all going to live at "The Anchor" with him. And dear little -Bunny is to have the best ground-floor rooms. Now, isn't that kind?" - -It was kind. Yet Maud stiffened to an even icier frigidity at the news, -and dear little Bunny's nose turned up to an aggressive angle. - -After a distinct pause, Maud bent her long neck and coldly kissed her -mother's expectant face. "I hope you--and Mr. Sheppard will be very -happy," she said. - -The happy suitor broke into his loud, self-satisfied laugh. "Egad, what -an enthusiastic reception!" he cried. "Have you got a similar chaste -salute for me?" - -He swaggered towards her, and Maud froze as she stood. Her eyes shot a -blue flare of open enmity at him; and--almost in spite of himself--Giles -Sheppard paused. - -"By Jove!" he said. "You've got a she-wolf here, madam." - -Lady Brian turned. "Oh, Giles, don't be absurd! Maud is not like me, -you know. She was never demonstrative as a child. She was always shy -and quiet. They are not quite used to the idea of you yet. You must -give them time. Bunny darling, won't you give Mother a kiss?" - -"What for?" said Bunny. - -He was tightly gripping Maud's cold hand with fingers that were like -tense wire. His eyes, very wide and bright, defied the whole world on -her behalf. - -"I'm not going to kiss anyone," he said. "Neither is Maud. I don't -know what there is to make such a fuss about. You've both been married -before." - -The landlord of "The Anchor" gave a great roar of laughter. "Not bad -for a bantling, eh, Lucy? Didn't know I was to have a sucking cynic for -a step-son. You're quite right, my boy; there is nothing to make a fuss -about. And so we shan't ask you to dance at the wedding. Not that you -could if you tried, eh? And my Lady Disdain there won't be invited. We -are going to be married by special licence to-morrow afternoon, and you -can take possession of your new quarters while the knot is being tied. -How's that appeal to you?" - -Bunny looked at him with a certain grim interest. "It'll suit me all -right," he said. "But I'm hanged if I can see where you come in." - -Giles Sheppard laughed again with his tongue in his cheek. "Oh, I shall -have my picking at the feast, old son," he declared jovially. "I've had -my eye on your mother for a long time. Pretty piece of goods she is -too. You're neither of you a patch on her. They don't do you credit, -Lucy, my dear. Sure they're your own?" - -"The man's drunk!" said Maud suddenly and sharply. - -"My dear! My dear!" cried Lady Brian, in dismayed protest. - -The girl bit her lip. The words had escaped her, she knew not how. - -Giles Sheppard however only laughed again, and seated himself on the -edge of the table to contemplate her. - -"We shall have to try and find a husband for you, young woman," he said, -"a husband who'll know how to bring you to heel. It'll be a tough job. -I wonder who'd like to take it on. Jake Bolton might do the trick. -We'll have Jake Bolton to dine with us to-morrow. He knows how to tame -wild animals, does Jake. It's a damn' pretty sight to see him do it -too. Gosh, he knows how to lay it on--just where it hurts most." - -He chuckled grimly with his eyes on Maud's now crimson face. - -"Now, Giles," protested Lady Brian, "you've promised to be good to my -two children. I'm sure we shall all shake down comfortably presently. -Dear Maud has a good deal to learn yet, so you must be patient with her. -We were foolish ourselves at her age, I have no doubt." - -"Oh, no doubt," said her fiance, with his thick-lidded eyes still -mocking the girl's face of outraged pride. "We've all been foolish in -our time. But there's only one treatment for that complaint in the -female species, my lady; and that is a sound good spanking. It does a -world of good, takes the stiffening out of a woman in no time. I've had -a daughter of my own--a decent little filly she was too. Married now and -gone to Canada. But I had to keep her in order, I can tell you, before -she went. I gave her many a slippering, and she thought the better of -me for it too. She knew I wouldn't stand any of her nonsense." - -"Oh, well," smiled Lady Brian, "we are not all alike, you know; and that -sort of treatment doesn't suit everybody. Now I think we all know each -other, and my little Bunny is looking rather tired. I think we won't -stay any longer. It means a bad night if he gets excited." - -"Wait a minute!" interposed Bunny. "That man you were talking about -just now--Jake Bolton. Who is he? Where does he live?" - -"Who is he?" Giles Sheppard slapped his thigh and rose. "He's one of -the best-known fellows about here--a bit of a card, but none the worse -for that. He's the trainer up at the stables--Lord Saltash's place. -Never heard of him? He's known as 'The Lynx' on the turf, because he's -so devilish shrewd. Oh yes, he's quite a card. And to see him break -one of them youngsters--well, it's a fair treat." - -Mr. Sheppard's grammar was apt to lapse somewhat when his enthusiasm was -kindled. Maud shivered a little. Lady Brian smiled indulgently. Poor -Giles! He was a rough diamond. She would have to do a little -polishing; but she was sure he would become quite a valuable gem when -polished. - -"Oh, he's Lord Saltash's trainer is he?" she said. "Lord Saltash is a -very old friend of ours. Is he--does he ever come down here?" - -"Who? Lord Saltash? He has a place here. You couldn't have been very -intimate with him if you didn't know that. Just as well p'raps with a -man of his tendencies." Sheppard laughed in a fashion that sent the hot -blood back to Maud's face. "A bit too fond of his neighbour's -wife--that young man. Lucky thing for him that he didn't have to pay -heavy damages. More luck than judgment, to my thinking." - -"Oh, Giles!" protested Lady Brian. "How you do run on! I did know that -he had an estate here. That was why I asked if he still came down. You -really mustn't blacken the young man's character in that way. We are -all very fond of him." - -"Are you though!" Sheppard's laugh died; he looked at Maud with a hint -of venom. "Like the rest of your charming sex, eh? Well, we don't see -much of the gay Lothario in these parts. If that was your little game, -you'd better have stopped in town." - -Maud's lips said, "Cad!", but her voice made no sound. - -He bowed in ironical acknowledgment and turned to her mother. "Now, my -lady, having received these cordial congratulations, I move an -adjournment. As you have foretold, we shall doubtless all shake down -together very comfortably in the course of a few weeks. But in the -meantime I should like to inform all whom it may concern that I am -master in my own house, and I expect to be treated as such." - -Again his insolent eyes rested upon Maud's proud face, and her slight -form quivered in response though she kept her own rigidly downcast. - -"Of course that is understood," said Lady Brian, with a pacific hand on -his arm. "There! Let us go now! I am sure we are all going to be as -happy as the day is long." - -She looked up at him with persuasive coquetry, and he at once succumbed. -He pulled her to him roughly and bestowed several resounding kisses upon -her delicate face, not desisting until with laughing remonstrance she -put up a protesting hand. - -"Giles, really--really--you mustn't be greedy!" she said, and drew him -to the door with some urgency. - -He went, his malignancy for the moment swamped by a stronger emotion; -and brother and sister were left alone. - -"What a disgusting beast!" said Bunny, as the door closed. - -Maud said nothing. She only went to the window, and flung it wide. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - IN THE DARK - - -Black night and a moaning sea! Now and then a drizzle of rain came on a -gust of wind, sprinkling the girl's tense face, damping the dark hair -that clustered about her temples. But she did not so much as feel it. -Her passionate young spirit was all on fire with a fierce revolt against -the destinies that ruled her life. She paced the parade as one -distraught. - -Only for a brief space could she let herself go thus,--only while Bunny -and their mother played their nightly game of cribbage. They did not so -much as know that she was out of the house. She would have to return -ere she was missed, and then would follow the inevitable ordeal of -putting Bunny to bed. It was an ordeal that seemed to become each night -more difficult. In the morning he was easier to manage; but at night -when he was tired out and all his nerves were on edge she sometimes -found the task almost beyond her powers. When he was in pain--and this -was not infrequently--it took her hours to get him finally settled. - -She was sure that it would be no easy task to-night. He had had bouts -of severe neuralgia during the day, and his flushed face and irritable -manner warned her that there was a struggle in store. She had sometimes -sat waiting till the small hours of the morning before he would permit -her to move or undress him. She felt that some such trial was before -her now, and her heart was as lead. - -The house had seemed to stifle her. She had run out for a breath of -air; and then something about that moaning shore had seemed to draw her. -She had run down to the parade, and now she paced along it, staring down -into the fathomless dark below her where the deep water rose and fell -with a ceaseless moaning, thumping the well beneath in sullen impotence. - -There was no splash of waves, only that dumb striving against a power it -could not overthrow. It was like her own mute rebellion, she thought to -herself miserably, as persistent and as futile. - -She reached the end of the parade. The hour was late; the place -deserted. There was a shelter here. She was sure it would be empty, -but it did not attract her. She wanted to get as close as possible to -that moaning, mysterious waste of water. It held a stark fascination -for her. It drew her like a magnet. She stood on the very edge of the -parade, facing the drift of rain that blew in from the sea. How dark it -was! The nearest lamp was fifty yards away! The thought came to her -suddenly, taking form from the formless deep: how easy to take one -single false step in that darkness! How swift the consequence, and how -complete the deliverance! - -A short, inevitable struggle in the dark--in the dark; and then a -certain release from this hateful chain called life. It would be -terrible, but so quickly over! And this misery that so galled her would -be for ever past. - -She beat her foot on the edge with a passionate impatience. What a fool -she was to suffer so--when there was nothing (never had been any thing) -in life worth living for! - -Nothing? Well, yes, there was Bunny. She was an absolute necessity to -him. That she knew. She was firmly convinced that he would die without -her. And though he would be far, far happier dead, poor darling, she -couldn't leave him to die alone. - -She lifted her clenched hands above her head in straining impotence. -For one black moment she almost wished that Bunny were dead. - -And then very suddenly, with staggering unexpectedness she received the -biggest shock of her life. Two hands closed simultaneously upon her -wrists, and she was drawn into two encircling arms. - -She uttered a startled outcry, and in the same moment began a wild and -flurried struggle for freedom. But the arms that held her closed like -steel springs. A man's strength forced her steadily away from the -yawning blackness that stretched beyond the parade. - -"It's no good kicking," a soft voice said. "You won't get away." - -Something in the voice reassured her. She ceased to struggle. "Oh, let -me go!" she said breathlessly. "You--you don't understand. -I--I--only----" - -"Came out for a breath of air?" he suggested. "Of course--I gathered -that." - -He took his arms away from her, but he still kept one of her wrists in a -strong grasp. She could not see his face in the darkness, only his -figure, which was short and stoutly built. - -"Do you know," he said, "when people take the air like that, I always -have to hold on to 'em tight till they've had all they want. It's damn' -cheek on my part, as you were just going to remark. But, my girl, it's -easier than mucking about in a dark sea looking for 'em after they've -lost their balance." - -He had led her to the shelter. She sat down rather helplessly, -wondering if it would be possible to conceal her identity from him since -it was evident that so far he had not recognized her. - -He stood in front of her, squarely planted, his hand still locked upon -her wrist. She had known him from the first word he had spoken, and, -remembering those startling lynx eyes of his, she felt decidedly uneasy. -She was sure they could see in the dark. - -She spoke after a moment with slight hesitation. "I shouldn't have lost -my balance. And if I had meant to jump over, as you imagined, I -shouldn't have stood so long thinking about it." - -"Sure you're not thinking about it now?" he said. - -"Quite sure," she answered. - -He bent down, and she was sure--quite sure--that his eyes scrutinized -her and took in every detail. - -The next moment he released her wrist also. "All right, my girl," he -said. "I believe you. But--don't do it again! Accidents happen, you -know. You might have had one then; and I should still have had to -flounder around looking for you." - -Something in his tone made her want to smile, and yet she felt so -sure--so sure--that he knew her all the time. And she wanted to resent -his familiarity at the same moment. For if he knew her, it was rank -presumption to address her so. - -She rose at length and faced him with such dignity as she could muster. -"I am obliged to you," she said, "but I fail to see why your -responsibility should extend so far. If I had fallen over, the chances -are that you could never have found me--or saved me if you had." - -"Ninety-nine to one!" he said coolly. "But, do you know, I rather count -on the hundredth chance. I've taken it--and won on it--before now." - -He was not to be disconcerted, it was evident. He was plainly a -difficult man to rout, one accustomed to keep his head in any emergency. -And she--she was but a slip of a girl in his estimation, and he had her -at a disadvantage already. - -She felt her face begin to burn in the darkness. She shifted her -ground. "I don't see why anyone should be made to live against his -will," she said, "why it should be anyone's business to interfere." - -"That's because you're young," he said. "You haven't yet got the proper -hang of things. It only comes with practice--that." - -Her face burned more hotly. He was actually patronizing her! - -She turned abruptly. "Good evening," she said, and began to walk away. - -But he fell in beside her at once. "I'm going your way," he observed. -"May as well see you past the bar of 'The Anchor.' They get a bit -lively there sometimes at this end of the day." - -He walked with the slight roll of a man accustomed to much riding. She -imagined that he never appeared in anything but breeches and gaiters. -But his tread was firm and purposeful. Quite obviously it never entered -his head that she might not desire his company. - -For that reason she had to submit to the arrangement though she felt -herself grow more and more rigid as they neared the circle of light cast -by the street-lamp. Of course he was bound to recognize her now. - -But they reached and passed the lamp, and he tramped straight ahead -without looking at her, after the square fashion that she had somehow -begun to associate with him. - -They reached and passed "The Anchor" also, with its lighted bar and -coarse voices and lounging figures. They began the steep ascent up -which he had pushed Bunny that afternoon. It was dark enough here at -least, and her self-confidence began to revive. She would put him to -the test. She would pass the gate that he had seen her enter earlier in -the day. If he displayed surprise or hesitation she would know that he -had recognized her. - -But yet again he baffled her. He tramped steadily on. - -She began to get a little breathless. There was another lamp at the top -of the road. She did not want to reach that. - -In desperation she paused. "Good evening!" she said again. - -He stopped at once, and she thought she caught the glitter of his eye, -seeking her own in the darkness. - -"You're going in now?" he asked. - -"Yes," she said. - -He came a step nearer, and laid one finger on her arm. "Look here, my -girl! You take a straight tip from me! If you're in any sort of -trouble, go and tell someone! Don't bottle it in till it gets too big -for you! And above all, don't go step-dancing on the edge of the parade -in the dark! It's a fool thing to do." - -He emphasized his points with impressive taps upon her arm. She felt -absurdly small and meek. - -"Suppose I haven't anyone to tell?" she said, after a moment. - -He rose to the occasion instantly. "I'm sound," he said. "Tell me!" - -She had not expected that. He seemed to disconcert her at every turn. - -"Thank you," she said, taking refuge in extreme frigidity. "I think -not." - -"As you like," he said. "I daresay I shouldn't in your place. I only -suggested it because I can't see a girl in trouble and pass by on the -other side." - -He spoke quite quietly, but there was a quality in the soft voice that -stirred her very strangely, something that made her for the moment -forget the man's dominant personality, and feel as if a woman had -uttered the words. - -She put out a groping hand to him, obeying a curious impulse that would -not be denied. - -"Thank you," she said again. - -He kept her hand for a second or two, holding it squarely, almost as if -he were waiting for something. - -Then, without a word, he let it go. She turned back; and he went on. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE UNWILLING GUEST - - -"But, my dear child, you must appear!" urged the bride, with a piteous -little twist of the lips. "I can't go unsupported into that dreadful -crowd." - -"Oh, Mother!" Maud said. And that was all; for what was the good of -saying more? Her mother had made the choice, and there was no turning -back. They could only go forward now along the new course, -whithersoever it led. "I'll come," she said, after a moment. - -Her mother's smile was full of pathos. "We must all make sacrifices for -one another, darling," she said. "I have made a very big one for you -and Bunny. He--poor little lad--isn't old enough to understand. But -surely, you, at least can appreciate it." - -She looked so wistful as she spoke that in spite of herself Maud was -moved to a very unusual show of tenderness. She turned and kissed her. -"I do hope you will be happy," she said. "I expect you will, you know, -when you are used to it." - -She spoke out of a very definite knowledge of her mother's character. -She knew well the yielding adaptability thereof. Giles Sheppard's -standards would very soon be hers also, and she would speedily cease to -find anything wanting in his friends. - -She turned with a sigh. "Let's go and get it over!" she said. "But I -can't stay long. I shall have to get back to Bunny." - -She and Bunny had spent all the afternoon and evening settling into -their new quarters at the Anchor Hotel, and it had been a tiring task. -The bride and bridegroom had gone straight from the registry-office -where the ceremony had been performed to the county town some thirty -miles distant, in the one ramshackle little motor that the hotel -possessed, and had returned barely in time to receive the guests whom -Sheppard had invited to his wedding-feast. - -Neither Maud nor her mother had been told much of the forthcoming -festivity, and the girl's dismay upon learning that she was expected to -attend it was considerable. She was feeling tired and depressed. Bunny -was in a difficult mood, and she knew that another bad night lay before -them. Still it was impossible to refuse. She could only yield with as -good a grace as she could muster. - -"Make yourself pretty, won't you, dear?" said Mrs. Sheppard as, her -point gained, she prepared smilingly to depart. "Wear your white silk! -You look charming in that." - -Maud had not the faintest wish to look charming, but yet again she could -not refuse to gratify a wish so amiably expressed. She donned the white -silk, therefore, though feeling in any but a festive mood, and prepared -herself for the ordeal with a grim determination to escape from it as -soon as possible. - -She was not tall, but her extreme slenderness gave her a decidedly regal -pose. She held her head proudly and bore herself with distinction. Her -eyes--those wonderful blue-violet eyes--had the aloof expression of one -whose soul is far away. - -Giles Sheppard watched her enter the drawing-room behind her mother, and -a bitter sneer crossed his bloated face. He was utterly incapable of -appreciating that innate pride of race that expressed itself in every -line of her. He read only contempt for him and his in the girl's still -face, and the deep resentment kindled the night before began to smoulder -within him with an ever-increasing heat. How dared she show her airs -and graces here?-- She, a penniless minx dependent now upon his charity -for the very bread she ate! - -He turned with an ugly jest at her expense upon his lips to the man with -whom he had been talking at her entrance; but the jest was checked -unuttered. For the man, square, thickset as a bulldog, abruptly left -his side and moved forward. - -The quick blood mounted in Maud's face as he intercepted her. She -looked at him for a second as if she would turn and flee. But he held -out a steady hand to her, and she had to place hers within it. - -In a moment his peculiar voice accosted her. "You remember me, Miss -Brian? I'm Jake Bolton--the horse breaker. I had the pleasure of doing -your brother a small service yesterday." - -Both hand and voice reassured her. She had an absurd feeling that he -was meting out to her such treatment as he would have considered -suitable for a nervous horse. She forced herself to smile upon him; it -was the only thing to do. - -He smiled in return--his pleasant open smile. "Remember me now?" he -said. - -"Quite well," she answered. - -"Good!" he said briefly. "Let me find you a chair! I don't suppose you -know many of the people here." - -She did not know any of them, and as Sheppard had seized upon his bride, -and was presenting her in rude triumph to each in turn with much noisy -laughter and coarse joking it was not difficult to slip into a corner -with Jake Bolton without attracting further attention. - -He stood beside her for a space while covertly she took stock of him. - -Yes, he actually had discarded his gaiters and was wearing evening -dress. It did not seem a natural garb for him, but he carried it better -than she would have expected. He still reminded her very forcibly of -horses, though she could not have definitely said wherein this strong -suggestion lay. His ruddy face and short, dominant nose might have -belonged to a sailor. But the brilliant chestnut eyes with their -red-brown lashes were somehow not of the sea. They made her think of -the reek of leather and the thud of galloping hoofs. - -Suddenly he turned and caught her critical survey. She dropped her eyes -instantly in hot confusion, while he, as if he had just made up his -mind, sat down beside her. - -"So you and your brother are going to live here?" he said. - -She answered him in a low voice; the words seemed to leap from her -almost without her conscious volition. "We can't help ourselves." - -He gave a short nod as of a suspicion confirmed, and sat in silence for -a little. The loud laughter of Giles Sheppard's guests filled in the -pause. - -Maud held herself rigidly still, repressing a nervous shiver that -attacked her repeatedly. - -Suddenly the man beside her spoke. "What's the matter with that young -brother of yours?" - -With relief she came out of her tense silence. "It is an injury to the -spine. He had a fall in his babyhood. He suffers terribly sometimes." - -"Nothing to be done?" he asked. - -She shook her head. "No one very good has seen him. He won't let a -doctor come near him now." - -"Oh rats!" exclaimed Jake Bolton unexpectedly. - -She felt her colour rise as he turned his bright eyes upon her. - -"You don't say that a kid like that can get the better of you?" he said. - -She resented the question; yet she answered it. "Bunny has a strong -will. I never oppose it." - -"And why not?" He was looking directly at her with a comical smile as -if he were inspecting some quaint object of interest. - -Again against her will she made reply. "I try to give him all he wants. -He has missed all that is good in life." - -He wrinkled his forehead for a moment as if puzzled, then broke into a -laugh. "Say, what a queer notion to get!" he said. - -She stiffened on the instant, but he did not seem to notice it. He -leaned towards her, and laid one finger--a short, square fore-finger--on -her arm. - -"Tell me now--what are the good things in life?" - -She withdrew her arm from his touch, and regarded him with a hauteur -that did not wholly veil her embarrassment. - -"You don't know!" said Jake. "Be honest and say so!" - -But Maud only retired further into her shell. "I think we have wandered -rather far from the subject," she said coldly. "My brother is -unfortunately the victim of circumstance, and no discussion can alter -that fact." - -He accepted the snub without a sign of discomfiture. "Is he here now?" -he asked. - -She bent her head. "In this house--yes." - -"Will you let me see him presently?" he pursued. - -Distantly she made reply. "I am afraid that is impossible." - -"Why?" he said. - -She raised her dark brows. - -"Tell me why!" he insisted. - -Calmly she met his look. "It is not good for him to see strangers at -night. It upsets his rest." - -"You think it would be bad for him to see me?" he questioned. - -His voice was suddenly very deliberate. He was looking her full in the -face. - -A curious little tremor went through her. She felt as if he had -pinioned her there before him. - -Her reply astounded herself. "I don't say it would be bad for -him,--only--inadvisable. He is rather excited already." - -"Will you ask him presently if he would cane to see me?" said Jake -Bolton steadily. - -She bit her lip, hesitating. - -"I shan't upset him," he said. "I won't excite him. I'll quiet him -down." - -She did not want to yield--yet she yielded. "I will ask him--if you -wish," she said. - -He smiled. "Thank you, Miss Brian. You didn't want to give in, did -you? But I undertake that you will not be sorry." - -"Hullo, Jacob!" blared Sheppard's voice suddenly across the room. "What -are you doing over there, you rascal? Thought I shouldn't see you, eh? -Ah, you're a deep one, you are! I daresay now you've made up your mind -that that young woman is a princess in disguise. She isn't. She's just -my step-daughter, and a very cheap article, I assure you, Jake,--very -cheap indeed!" - -The roar of laughter that greeted this sally filled the room, drowning -any further remarks. Sheppard stood in the centre, swaying a little, -looking round on the assembled company with a facetious grin. - -Jake Bolton rose and went to him. He stood with him for a moment, and -Maud, shivering in her corner, marvelled that he did not look mean and -insignificant beside the other's great bulk. She wondered what he said. -It was only a few words, and they were not apparently uttered with much -urgency. But Sheppard's grin died away, and she fancied that for a -moment--only for a moment--he looked a little sheepish. Then he clapped -a great hand upon Bolton's shoulder. - -"All right. All right. It's for you to make the running. Come along, -ladies and gentlemen! Let us feed!" - -There was a general move, and a tall, lanky young man with a white face -and black hair that shone like varnish slouched up to Maud. - -"I don't see why Bolton should have all the plums," he said. "May I -have the honour of conducting you to the supper table?" - -She was on her feet. She looked at him with a disdain so withering that -the young man wilted visibly before her. - -"No offence meant, I'm sure," he said, shuffling his feet. "But I -thought--as you were being so pally with Jake Bolton--you wouldn't -object to being pally with me." - -Maud said nothing. She was in fact so quivering with rage that speech -would have been difficult. - -A very stout elderly lady, with a neck and arms that were hardly -distinguishable from the red silk dress she wore, sailed up to them. -"Come, come, Miss!" she said, beaming good-temperedly upon Maud's pale -face. "We're not standing on ceremony to-night. We're all friends -here. You won't mind going in with my boy Tom, I'm sure. He's -considered quite the ladies' man, I can assure you." - -"Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Wright? Miss Brian is going in with me," said Jake -Bolton's smooth voice behind her. "Tom, you git!" - -Somehow--before she knew it--the black-haired young man was gone from -her path, and her hand lay trembling within Bolton's arm. - -She did not utter a word, she could not. She felt choked. - -Jake Bolton said nothing either. He only piloted her through the crowd -with the smile of the winner curving the corners of his mouth. - -They readied the dining-room, and people began to seat themselves around -a long centre table. There was no formal arrangement, and some -confusion ensued in consequence. - -"Fight it out among yourselves!" yelled Sheppard above the din of -laughter and movement. "Make yourselves at home!" - -Bolton glanced round. "There's a table for two in that alcove," he -said. "Shall we make for that?" - -"Anywhere!" she said desperately. - -He elbowed a way for her. The table was near a window, the alcove -draped with curtains. He put her into a chair where she was screened -from the eyes of those at the centre table. He seated himself opposite -to her. - -"Don't look so scared!" he said. - -She smiled at him faintly in silence. - -"I gather you don't enjoy this sort of bear-fight," he said. - -She remained silent. The man disconcerted her. She was burningly -conscious that she had not been too discreet in taking him even so far -into her confidence. - -He leaned slowly forward, fixing her with those relentless, lynx-like -eyes. "Miss Brian," he said, his voice very level, faultlessly -distinct. "I'm rough, no doubt, but please believe I'm white!" - -She looked at him, startled, unhappy, not knowing what to say. - -He nodded, still watching her. "Don't you forget it!" he said. "There -are plenty of beasts in the world, but I'm not one of 'em. You'll drink -champagne, of course." - -He got up to procure it, and Maud managed in the interval to recover -some of her composure. - -When he came back, she mustered a smile and thanked him. - -"You look fagged out," he said, as he filled her glass. "What have you -been doing?" - -"Getting straight in our new quarters here," she answered. "It takes -some time." - -"Where are your rooms?" he asked. - -She hesitated momentarily. "It is really only one room," she said. -"But it is a fine one. I have another little one upstairs; but it is a -long way off. Of course I shall sleep downstairs with Bunny." - -"Do you always sleep with him?" he asked. - -She coloured a little. "Yes." - -"Is he a good sleeper?" He had moved round and was filling his own -glass. - -She watched his steady hand with a touch of envy. She would have given -much for as cool a nerve just then. - -"Is he a good sleeper?" He repeated the question as he set down the -bottle. - -She answered it at once. "No; a very poor one." - -"And you look after him night and day?" Bolton's eyes suddenly -comprehended her. "I guess that accounts for it," he said, in a tone of -enlightenment. - -"For what?" She met his look haughtily, determined to hold her own. - -But he smiled and refused the contest. "For much," he said. "Now, what -will you eat? Lobster? That's right. I want to see you started. What -a filthy racket they are making! I hope it won't upset your appetite -any." - -She had never felt less hungry in her life, but out of a queer sensation -of gratitude she tried to eat what he put before her. He had certainly -done his best to shield her from that objectionable crowd, but she was -still by no means certain that she liked the man. He was too much -inclined to take her friendship for granted, too ready to presume upon a -very short acquaintance. And she was sure--quite sure now--that he had -recognized her from the very first moment, down on the parade the night -before. The knowledge was very disquieting. He was kind--oh, yes, he -was kind. But she felt that he knew too much. - -And so a certain antagonism warred against her gratitude, and prevented -any gracious expression thereof. She only longed--oh, how -desperately!--to flee away from this new and horrible world into which -she had been so ruthlessly dragged and to see no more of its inhabitants -for ever. - -Vain longing! Even then she knew, or shrewdly suspected, that her lot -was to be cast in that same world for the rest of her mortal life. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - THE MAGICIAN - - -"Oh, Maud! I thought you were never coming!" - -Bunny's face, pale and drawn, wearing the irritable frown so habitual to -it, turned towards the opening door. - -"I have brought you a visitor," his sister said. - -Her voice was low and nervous. She looked by no means sure of Bunny's -reception of the news. Behind her came Jake Bolton the trainer, alert -and self-assured. It was quite evident that he had no doubts whatever -upon the subject. His thick mat of chestnut hair shone like copper in -the brilliant electric light, such hair as would have been a woman's -glory, but that Jake kept very closely cropped. - -"What on earth for?" began Bunny querulously; and then magically his -face changed, and he smiled. "Hullo! You?" he said. - -Bolton came to his side and took the small, eager hand thrust out to -him. "Yes, it's me," he said. "No objection, I hope?" - -"I should think not!" The boy's face was glowing with pleasure. "Sit -down!" he said. "Maud, get a chair!" - -Bolton turned sharply, found her already bringing one and took it -swiftly from her. - -He sat down by Bunny's side, and took the little thin hand back into -his. "Do you know, I've been thinking a lot about you," he said. - -Bunny was vastly flattered. He liked the grasp of the strong fingers -also, though he would not probably have tolerated such a thing from any -but this stranger. - -"Yes," pursued Jake, in his soft, level voice. "I reckon I've taken a -fancy to you, little chap--I beg your pardon--Sir Bernard. How have you -been to-day?" - -"Don't call me that!" said Bunny, turning suddenly red. - -"What?" Jake smiled upon him, his magic, kindly smile. "Am I to call you -Bunny--like your sister--then?" - -"Yes. And you can call her Maud," said Bunny autocratically. "Can't -he, Maud?" - -Jake turned his head and looked at her. She was standing before the -fire, the red glow all about her, very slim, very graceful, very -stately. She did not so much as glance at Jake, only bent a little -towards the blaze so that he could not see her face. - -"I don't think I dare," said Jake. - -"Maud!" Peremptorily Bunny's voice accosted her. "Come over here! Come -and sit on my bed!" - -It was more of a command than an invitation. Maud straightened herself -and turned. - -But as she did so, their visitor intervened. "No, don't!" he said. -"Sit down right there, Miss Brian, in that easy-chair, and have a rest!" - -His voice was peremptory too, but in a different way. Bunny stared at -him wide-eyed. - -Jake met the stare with an admonitory shake of the head. "Guess Bunny's -not wanting you," he said. "Don't listen to anything he says!" - -Bunny's mouth opened to protest, remained open for about five seconds, -and finally he said, "All right, Maud. You can stay by the fire while we -talk." - -And Maud, much to her own surprise, sat down in the low chair on the -hearth and leaned her aching head back upon the cushion. - -She had her back to Bunny and his companion, and the soft murmur of the -latter's voice held nought disturbing. It seemed in fact to possess -something of a soothing quality, for very soon her heavy eyelids began -to droop and the voice to recede into ever growing distance. For a -space she still heard it, dim and remote as the splash of the waves on -the shore; then very softly it was blotted out. Her cares and her -troubles all fell away from her. She sank into soundless billows of -sleep. - -It was a perfectly dreamless repose, serene as a child's and it seemed -to last indefinitely. She lay in complete content, unconscious of all -the world, lapped in peace and blissfully free from the goading anxiety -that usually disturbed her rest. It was the calmest slumber she had -known for many years. - -From it she awoke at length with a guilty start. The fall of a piece of -coal had broken the happy spell. She sat up, to find herself in -firelight only. - -Her first thought was for Bunny, and she turned in her chair and looked -across the unfamiliar room. He was lying very still in the shadows. -Softly she rose and stepped across to him. - -Yes, he was asleep also, lying among his pillows. The chair by his side -was empty, the visitor vanished. - -Very cautiously she bent over him. He had been lying dressed outside -the bed. Now--with a thrill of amazement she realized it--he was -undressed and lying between the sheets. He was breathing very quietly, -and his attitude was one of easy rest. Surely some magic had been at -work! - -On a chest of drawers near stood a glass that had contained milk. He -always had some hot milk last thing, but she had not procured it for -him. She had in fact been wondering how she would obtain it to-night. - -Another coal fell, and she crept back to replace it. Stooping she caught -sight of another glass in the fender, full of milk. It must have been -there a long time, for it was barely warm. Clearly it had been intended -for her. She put it to her lips and drank. - -Who could have put it there? Her mother? No; she was sure that her -mother would have roused her from her sleep if she had entered. She was -moreover quite incapable of getting Bunny to bed now that he had grown -out of childhood. - -The house was very quiet. She wondered if the guests had all gone. The -room was situated at the end of a long passage, so that the noise of the -party had scarcely reached it. But the utter silence without as well as -within made her think that it was very late. - -She dared not switch on the light, but as the fire burned up again she -held her watch to the blaze. Half-past two! - -In utter amazement she began to undress. - -There was no second bed in the room; only a horse-hair sofa that was far -less comfortable than the chair by the fire. She lay down upon it, -however, pulling over her an ancient fur travelling-rug belonging to her -mother, and here she lay dozing and waking, turning over the mystery in -her mind, while another quiet hour slipped away. - -Then there came a movement from Bunny, and she sat up. - -"Are you awake, Maud?" asked his voice out of the shadows. "Has Jake -gone?" - -"Yes, darling," she made answer. "Are you wanting anything?" - -She was by his side with the words; she bent over him. He wanted his -pillows rearranged, and when she had done it he said, "I say, when did -you wake up?" - -"About an hour ago," she said. - -He chuckled a little. "Weren't you surprised to find me in bed?" - -"Yes, I was," she said. "How did you get there?" - -Bunny seemed to regard the matter as a joke. "That fellow Jake--he went -over and looked at you, came back and said you were fast asleep, asked -what I generally had done, and if he couldn't do it for me. He managed -very well and was jolly quick about it too. I thought you would be sure -to wake, but you didn't. And when I was settled, he asked if I didn't -want anything, and I said, 'Yes, hot milk', and he crept off and got it. -He brought a glass for you too. He stuck it in the fender. Have you -had it?" - -"Yes," Maud said. "But Bunny, didn't he hurt you at all? You nearly -always cry out when you're lifted." - -"I didn't that time," said Bunny proudly. "I told him I should probably -squeal, and he said if I so much as squeaked he'd throttle me. He's a -brick, do you know, Maud. And he seemed to know how to get hold of me -without being told." - -Maud's amazement was growing. The man must be a genius indeed to manage -Bunny in that fashion. - -"After that," said Bunny, "he sat down by me and got hold of my hand and -said, 'Now I'm going to send you to sleep.' I told him I never slept -the first part of the night, and he grinned and said, 'You'll be asleep -in five minutes from now if you let yourself go.' And I said, 'Rats!' -And he said, 'Shut up!' So I did. And he held my hand tight and sat -staring across the room like a mute till somehow he got all blurred up -and then I suppose I went to sleep. I never knew when he went. Did -you?" - -"No," said Maud. She had an uncanny feeling that Jake had somehow left -his influence behind him in the atmosphere. His personality seemed to -dominate it still. She was sure he had meant to be kind, but a queer -sense of antagonism made her resent his kindness. She did not like -Bunny's whole-hearted admiration. - -"He's a brick," the boy said again, "and do you know he's done almost -everything under the sun? He's been a sailor, and he's dug for gold, -and he's kept a Californian store, and he's been a cow-boy on a ranch. -He says the last suited him best because he's so keen on the wilds and -horses. It was out in the wilds somewhere that Lord Saltash came on him -and brought him home to be his trainer. But he's British-born all the -same. I knew he was that the first time I saw him." - -He was evidently a paragon of all the virtues in Bunny's estimation, and -Maud did not attempt to express her own feelings, which were, in fact, -somewhat complex. - -Very deep down in her woman's soul a warning voice had begun to make -itself heard, but she could not tell Bunny that. Scarcely even to -herself dared she admit that the straight, free gaze of those red-brown -eyes possessed the power to set her heart a-fluttering in wild rebellion -like the wings of a captive bird. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE OFFER - - -In many respects the change from their lodgings up the hill to the -Anchor Hotel by the fishing-quay was for the better, and as the days -went on and winter drew near Maud realized this. Bunny's room had a -southern aspect, and it was only on dull days that they needed a fire -before evening. It possessed a French window also, which was an immense -advantage; for it was perfectly easy to wheel him out on to the stone -verandah outside it, and here he would lie in his own sheltered corner -for hours; watching the sea and the shore and the passers-by, and -sometimes talking to the very infrequent visitors who came at that -season to "The Anchor." - -He and Maud lived their lives apart from the rest of the establishment, -an arrangement which Mrs. Sheppard deplored although she knew it to be -an eminently wise one. Her husband, who never lost an opportunity to -revile the girl who always treated him with the same aloof distance of -manner, bitterly resented the circumstance that so limited his chances -of what he styled "taking her down a peg." He hated her with the -rancorous and cruel hatred of conscious inferiority, savagely repenting -his undertaking to provide for her. They did not often clash because -Maud steadfastly avoided him. And this also he resented, for he was in -effect simply biding his time to drive her away. She was a perpetual -thorn in his side, and he seized every chance that presented itself of -inflicting some minor humiliation upon her. His antipathy had become -almost an obsession, and he never saw her without flinging some gibing -taunt in her direction. - -And those taunts of his rankled deep. Maud's feelings towards him were -of a very deadly order. If she had not avoided him, she knew that she -could not have remained. But for Bunny's sake she endured his insults -when contact with him became inevitable. She could not be separated -from Bunny, and she knew of no other haven. - -Towards Bunny, Sheppard displayed no ill feeling. He had small cause to -do so, for the boy was kept rigorously out of his way, and his mother -was more than willing to leave the entire care of him to Maud. In fact -there were sometimes whole days on which she scarcely saw him. The -change that Maud had foretold on her wedding-day had already begun in -her. She had quitted her own world without a pang, and was sunning -herself in the warmth of her husband's rough devotion. As she herself -expressed it, she was getting really fond of Giles, whose brutish -affection for her was patent to all. - -Maud suppressed a shudder whenever she encountered any evidence of it, -and as a result he was always noisier and coarser in his demonstrations -before her face of white disgust. What wonder that she rigidly avoided -him and insisted upon taking all her meals with Bunny? - -In this way she avoided his loud-voiced friends also,--another frequent -cause for offence!--all, that is, save one. That one was Jake Bolton; -and, since Bunny had so decreed it, this man came and went exactly as he -chose. - -She never raised the smallest objection to his presence, but she -certainly never welcomed him. In fact she generally took advantage of -his coming to leave Bunny for a space and it even became a recognized -thing between them that she should avail herself of the leisure thus -provided to run down to the shore for the brief recreation which was -never obtainable in any other way. - -Very often she would not return until after Jake's departure, and so on -the whole, though they met so frequently, she actually saw but little of -him. He was Bunny's pal, and--obedient to the inner warning--she was -firmly determined that he should never become hers. - -He did not seem inclined to combat this determination, but on the other -hand he never relinquished by a hair's breadth the position he had taken -up at the beginning of their acquaintance. It was impossible to snub -him. He never heard a snub. He never advanced, and he never retreated. -He simply stood firm, so that after a time her uneasiness began to die -down almost in spite of her, and she even came to look upon him in a -very guarded way as a friend in need. He could do anything in the world -with Bunny, and though she was half-suspicious of his influence she -could not deny that he invariably exercised it in the right direction. -He had even begun to implant in Bunny a wholly novel and sometimes -almost disconcerting consideration for herself. Bunny was more -tractable just then than he had ever been before. It was the only -bright spot in her sky. - -It was on an afternoon in late November that she went down to the shore -during one of Jake Bolton's visits to her brother, and watched the -fishing-fleet come in through a blur of rain. The beach looked dank and -sodden and there were trails of mist in the air. Dusk was just -beginning to fall, and it would be a wet night. But the air blew in off -the water sweet and southerly, and it did her good to breath it. - -She walked the length of the parade twice, and finally, as the -fishing-smacks dropped one by one into the harbour on the further side -of the quay, turned homewards, feeling invigorated and considerably the -happier for the brief exercise. - -She wondered if Jake meant to stay to tea. He did not often do so, -only, on the very rare occasions when she added her invitation to -Bunny's. She supposed she would have to ask him to-day if she found him -still there when she returned. But she hoped she would not. She liked -him best when he was not there. - -Regretfully she turned her back upon the heaving waters, and crossed the -road to the Anchor Hotel. It was growing rapidly dusk. - -She reached the entrance, and was stretching out a hand towards the -swing-doors when one of them opened abruptly from within and Jake -stepped out. He was smoking a cigarette, and he did not in the first -moment perceive her. She drew back in an instinctive effort to escape -notice. - -But he stopped short almost immediately and accosted her. - -"Ah! Is that you? I was just wondering where you were." - -Her thoughts flew to Bunny. "Am I wanted?" she asked quickly. - -He checked her with a gesture. "No, the lad's all right. It's I who -want you. Can you spare me a minute?" - -It was impossible to refuse, but she did not yield graciously. Somehow -she never could be gracious to Jake Bolton. - -"I ought to go in," she said. "It is getting late." - -"I shan't keep you long," he said, and she noticed that it was plainly a -foregone conclusion with him that she would grant him what he asked. - -She turned back into the misty darkness with a short sigh of impatience. - -"Walk to the end of the parade with me!" he said, and fell in beside -her. - -Later she wondered why she did not lodge a more energetic protest, for -it was beginning to rain in earnest; but at the time it seemed -inevitable that she should do as he desired. - -She re-crossed the road with him, and turned to walk to the nearest end -of the parade. They approached the spot where he had once laid -peremptory hands upon her and drawn her out of danger. It was as they -neared it that he suddenly spoke. - -"I am sorry to have brought you out again into the wet. Will you come -into the shelter?" - -She acquiesced. The shelter was empty. She stepped within it and stood -waiting. - -He took out his cigarette and after a moment dropped it and set his heel -upon it. - -"I want to speak to you about your brother," he said. "And, by the way, -before I forget it, I've promised to trundle him up to the Stables next -Sunday to show him the animals. You will come too, won't you? I can -give you tea at my house. It's close by." - -Maud's eyes opened a little. The suggestion somewhat startled her, and -she resented being startled. "You are very kind," she said coldly. -"But I don't think we can either of us do that." - -"I am not in the least kind," said Jake. "And will you tell me why you -are offended with me for suggesting it?" - -"I am not--offended," she said, feeling herself grow uncomfortably hot -over the assertion. "But--I think you might have proposed this to me -before mentioning it to Bunny." - -"But what's the matter with the proposal?" he said. "The boy was -delighted with it." - -"That may be," Maud said; and then she paused, feeling suddenly that she -was being absurdly unreasonable. She blushed still more hotly in the -gloom, and became silent. - -Jake stretched out one steady finger and laid it on her arm. "Don't -take fright at nothing!" he said, in an admonitory tone. "If you're -going to shy at this, I reckon you'll kick up your heels, and bolt at my -next suggestion." - -She drew herself away from his touch, standing very erect. "Perhaps you -would be wiser not to make it," she said. - -"Very likely," agreed Jake. "But--as you object to my mentioning things -to your brother first--I don't see how you can refuse to listen." - -This was unanswerable. She bit her lip. "I am listening," she said. - -"And the answer is 'No,' whatever it is," rejoined Jake, with a -whimsical note in his soft voice. "Say, Miss Brian, play fair!" - -She felt somewhat softened in spite of herself. "I have said I will -listen," she said. - -"With an unbiassed mind?" he said. - -"Of course." She spoke impatiently; she wanted to get the interview -over, and she more and more resented his attitude towards her. There -was something of the superior male about him that grated on her nerves. - -"All right," said Jake. "I'll go ahead. If you will condescend to come -up to my place on Sunday, I will show you a man--one of our jockeys--who -was injured in just the same way that your brother is injured, and who -is now as sound as I am. He was operated upon by an American doctor -called Capper--one of the biggest surgeons in the world. It was a bit -of an experiment, but it succeeded. Now what has been done once can be -done again. I chance to know Capper, and he is coming to London next -spring. He makes a speciality of spinal trouble. Won't you let him try -his hand on Bunny? There would be a certain amount of risk of course. -But wouldn't it be worth it? Say, wouldn't it be worth it, to see that -boy on his legs, living his life as it was meant to be lived instead of -dragging out a wretched existence that hardly deserves to be called life -at all?" - -He stopped abruptly, as if realizing that he had suffered his eagerness -to carry him away. But to Maud who had begun to listen in icy aloofness -that same eagerness was as the kindling of a fire in a place of utter -desolation. - -For the moment she forgot to be cold. "Oh, if it were only possible!" -she said. "If it only could be!" - -"Why can't it be?" said Jake. - -She came back with something of a shock to the consciousness of his -personality. She drew back from the warmth that he had made her feel. - -"Because," she said frigidly, "doctors--great surgeons--don't perform -big operations for nothing." - -"I don't think Capper would charge an out-of-the-way amount if he did it -for me," said Jake. - -"Perhaps not." Maud spoke in the dead tone of finality. - -He leaned slightly towards her. "Say, Miss Brian, aren't you rather -easily disheartened? Wouldn't your people scrape together something for -such a purpose?" - -"No," she said. - -"Are you quite sure?" he urged. "Won't you even ask 'em?" - -She turned from him. "It's no good asking," she said, her voice low and -reluctant. "The only relation we possess who might help won't even -answer when I write to him." - -"Why don't you go and see him?" said Jake. "Put the thing before him! -He couldn't refuse." - -She shook her head. "It wouldn't be any good," she said, with dreary -conviction. "Besides, I couldn't get to Liverpool and back in a day, -and I couldn't leave Bunny for longer. And--in any case--I know--I know -it wouldn't be any good," she ended, with half-angry vehemence. - -"I wish the little chap were my brother," said Jake. - -Maud was silent. Somehow her vehemence had upset her; she had an -outrageous desire to cry. - -Jake was silent too for a few seconds; then abruptly he squared his -shoulders and spoke with aggressive decision. "Miss Brian, a good friend -is nearer than a dozen beastly relations. With your permission--I'll -see this thing through." - -"Oh no, no!" she said quickly. "No, no!" - -"For the boy's sake!" he said. - -"No!" she said again. - -There fell a sudden silence. Then, in an odd voice Jake said, "Bunny -told me--only to-day--with pride--that there was nothing in the world -that you wouldn't do for him." - -She made a sharp movement of protest. "I can't take--what I could never -repay," she said, speaking almost below her breath. "Neither shall -Bunny." - -"There are more ways than one of paying a debt," said Jake. - -He looked almost formidable standing there in the twilight with his legs -well apart and unabashed resolution in every line of his sturdy figure. - -She faced him with a sinking sense of her own inferior strength. His -self-assertion seemed to weigh her down. She felt puny and insignificant -before it. As usual she sought refuge in stately aloofness. She had no -other weapon, and at least it covered the beating of her heart. - -"I am afraid I don't understand you," she said. - -"Shall I explain?" said Jake; and then, as she was silent: "Can't you -see I'm making a bid for your friendship?" - -She froze at the effrontery of the words. - -"Oh yes," said Jake. "I quite understand. I'm only tolerated for -Bunny's sake. Isn't that so? You're too proud to associate with a clod -like me. But for all that--though you'll never look at me--I'm not -afraid to let you know that I've taken a fancy to you. You've never -contemplated such a fool idea as marriage with me, I know: but you go -home and contemplate it right now! Ask yourself if you wouldn't find a -husband like me less nauseating than a step-father like Giles Sheppard! -Ask yourself if the little chap wouldn't stand a better chance all round -if you brought him along to me! I reckon we'd make his life easier -between us even if Capper couldn't make him walk. He's too heavy a -burden for you to carry alone, my girl. You weren't created for such a -burden as that. Let me lend a hand! I give you my solemn oath I'll be -good to you both!" - -A tremor of passion ran through his last words, and his voice took a -deeper note. Maud, upright and quivering, felt the force of the man -like the blast of a tearing gale carrying all before it. She would have -left him at the commencement of his speech, but he blocked the way. She -stood imprisoned in a corner of the shelter, steadying herself against -the woodwork, while the full strength of his individuality surged around -her. She felt physically exhausted, as though she had been trying to -stand against a tremendous wind. - -Several seconds throbbed away ere she could trust herself to speak -without faltering. Then: "Please let me pass!" she said. - -He stood back instantly and she was conscious of a lessening of that -mysterious influence which had so overwhelmed her. - -"Are you angry--or what?" he said. - -She gathered her strength, and stepped forth, though she was trembling -from head to foot. - -"Yes, I am angry," she said, forcing her voice to a certain measure of -calmness notwithstanding. "I have never been so insulted in my life!" - -"Insulted!" He echoed the word in unfeigned astonishment; then, as she -would have left him, put a detaining hand upon her arm. "Say, Miss -Brian! Since when has a proposal of marriage constituted an insult in -your estimation?" - -He spoke with something of a drawl, but it compelled attention. She -stopped, resisting the desire to shake herself free from his touch. - -"A proposal of marriage from you could be nothing else," she said very -bitterly. "You take advantage of my position, but you know full well -that we are not equals." - -"Oh yes, I know that," he said. "But--is any man your equal?" - -"I meant socially of course," she said, beginning to recover her -composure and her dignity. - -"I see." Jake's voice was very level. "And that is why you are -upset--angry?" - -"It is a very sufficient reason," she said. - -"Yes, but is it--as things now are? There is another point of view to -that problem. If you had been leading a happy, sheltered life in your -own sphere--that might have been a reason for me to hold off. You might -with justice have scorned my offer. But--as things are--as things -are--" he spoke with strong insistence. "Is it taking advantage of your -position to want to deliver you from it? It's a beastly position--it's -a humiliating position. And I gather you've no prospect of deliverance. -Well, I offer you a way of escape. It mayn't be the way you would -choose, but--there are worse, many worse. I'm not a bad sort, and I've -got a soft spot in my heart for that little brother of yours. Say, Miss -Brian, do you despise me so badly that you can't even give the idea your -impartial consideration?" - -He spoke whimsically, but there was a rough dignity about him -nevertheless which had an undeniable effect upon her. She could no -longer spurn him with contempt, though neither could she yield a single -inch to his persuasion. - -"It would be quite useless for me to consider it," she said. "I am -sorry if I was rude to you just now, but your suggestion rather took my -breath away. Please understand that it is quite, quite impossible!" - -"All right," he said. "Still you won't dismiss it quite entirely from -your mind? That is to say, you'll hold it in reserve just in case a way -of escape becomes essential to you. I shan't break my heart about it, -but neither shall I change my mind. The offer remains open day and -night just in case the emergency might arise which would make you -willing to avail yourself of it." - -He took his hand from her arm, and she felt that the interview was over. - -Yet he walked beside her as she began to move away, and crossed the road -again with her to the entrance of the hotel. - -"And one thing more," he said, as they reached it. "I have no wish or -intention to force myself upon you, so if--to please Bunny--you can -bring yourself to accompany the pair of us on the Sunday expedition to -see the stud, you need not be afraid that I shall attempt to take -advantage of your position again." - -The colour flamed up in her face at the few, leisurely words. He seemed -to possess the power of calling it up at will. - -She stood on the first step, looking down at him, uncertain whether to -be haughty or kind. - -He moved close to her, and by the lamplight that streamed through the -glass doors she saw his frank, disarming smile. - -"And look here!" he said. "Don't fling cold water on that other scheme -for Bunny that I broached to you, yet! You never know what may turn up." - -The smile decided her. She held out her hand to him. "But, you know, I -couldn't--I really couldn't--" she said rather incoherently. - -He gave the hand a firm grip and released it. "No. All right. I -understand. But think about it! And don't run away with the idea that -I planned it just for your sake! I'd like jolly well to be of use to -you. But--in the main--it's the lad I'm thinking of. You do the same! -After all, it's second nature with you to put him first, isn't it?" - -"He always will come first, with me," she said. "But I couldn't--I -can't--incur such an obligation--even for him." - -"All right," said Jake, unmoved. "Class it with the impossibles--but, -all the same, think about it!" - -He was gone with the words, striding away down the street without a -backward glance. - -Maud was left alone with the warm blood still in her cheeks and an odd -feeling of uncertainty at her heart. She felt baffled and uneasy like a -swimmer in deep waters, aware of a strong current but still not wholly -at its mercy, nor wholly aware of its force and direction. She did not -mean to let herself be drawn into that current. She hung on the edge of -it, trying to strike out and avoid it. But all the time it drew her, it -drew her. And--though she would not admit it even to herself--she knew -it and was afraid. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - THE REAL MAN - - -That Sunday of their visit to the Burchester Stables was a marked day -with Maud for the rest of her life. - -The Stables were situated on the side of a splendid down about a mile -from the sea. Lord Saltash's estate stretched for miles around, and he -practically owned the whole of Fairharbour. Burchester Castle was the -name of the seat, an ancient pile dating from Saxon times that had -belonged to the Burchester family since the days of the Tudors. Charlie -Burchester had inherited it from his uncle five years before; but he did -not live in it. He had occasional wild house-parties there, especially -for the event of the Graydown Races. And he sometimes spent a night or -two when the mood took him to visit the stud. But for the most part the -house stood in empty grandeur, its rooms shuttered and shrouded, its -stately gardens deserted save for the gardeners who tended them. - -Exquisite gardens they were. Maud had a glimpse of them from the height -of the down--terraced gardens with marble steps and glistening -fountains, yew-walks, darkly mysterious, quaintly fashioned, pines that -rustled and whispered together. The house was securely hidden from view -among its trees. - -"It used to be a nunnery," said Jake. "Its inhabitants had a chaste -objection to publicity. It's an interesting old place, about a mile -from the Stables. I'd like to show it to you some time. You'd enjoy -it." - -"Not to-day," said Bunny quickly. - -Jake smiled at his tone. "No, not to-day, lad. We'll go and see the -animals to-day." - -He had brought them up the long, winding private road which, though -smooth enough, was a continual ascent. Maud had wanted to help with the -invalid-chair, but he had steadily refused any assistance. She -marvelled at the evident ease with which he had accomplished the -journey, never hurrying, never halting, not even needing to pause for -breath, untiring as a wild animal in its native haunts. She remembered -the nickname he bore on the Turf, and reflected that it fitted him in -more than one respect. He was so supple, so tough, so sure. - -Suddenly those bright eyes flashed round on her. "Say, you're tired," -he said, in his queer, lilting voice. "We'll have tea first." - -"No!" cried Bunny on the instant. "We'll do the Stables first, Jake. -It's not time for tea. Besides, tea can wait." - -Jake's brown hand came over the back of the chair and filliped the boy's -cheek. "Shut up, my son!" said Jake. - -Maud stared at the action. Bunny turned scarlet. - -Jake unconcernedly continued his easy progress. "Reckon the animals -won't die if we don't inspect 'em till after tea," he said. "What's -your idea, Miss Brian?" - -"If Bunny wishes to go straight to the Stables--" she began. - -He interrupted. "Bunny has changed his mind. Ain't that so, Bunny?" - -"I don't care," said Bunny rather sullenly. - -"All right then," said Jake. "Tea first!" - -He wheeled the chair into a great gateway that led into a wide stone -courtyard. White-washed stables were on each side of them and at -regular intervals large green tubs containing miniature fir-trees. At -the further end of the courtyard stood a square, white-washed house. - -"That's my shanty," said Jake. - -It was a very plain building; in former days it had been a farm. There -was a white railing in front and a small white gate flanked by another -pair of toy firs. The whole effect was one of prim cleanliness. - -"There's a bit of garden at the back," said Jake. "And a -summer-house--quite a decent little summer-house--that looks right away -to the sea. Now, Bunny lad, there's a comfortable sofa inside for you. -Think I can carry you in?" - -"Can't you take in the chair?" Maud asked nervously. - -Jake looked at her. "Oh yes, I can. But the passage is a bit narrow. -It's not very easy to turn." - -"Of course he can carry me, Maud. Let him carry me!" broke in Bunny, in -an aggrieved tone. "You make such a stupid fuss always." - -Jake had thrown open the door of his home. "You go in, Miss Brian!" he -said. "Turn to the right at the end of the passage, and it's the door -facing you." - -She went in reluctantly. The passage was small and dark, oak-panelled, -low-ceiled. - -"Go right in!" said Jake. - -She did not want to turn her back on Bunny, but she knew that the boy -would resent any lingering on her part. She passed down the passage and -turned as Jake had directed. - -The door that faced her stood open, and she entered a long, low room, -oak-panelled like the passage, with a deep, old-fashioned fireplace in -which burned a cheery wood fire. Two windows, diamond-paned, and a door -with the upper panels of glass occupied the whole of the further side of -the room, and the western sunshine slanting in threw great bars of gold -across the low window-seats. - -Tea had been set on a table in the middle of the room, to the corner of -which a sofa had been drawn. There were bed-pillows as well as cushions -on the sofa. Evidently Jake had ransacked the house to provide comfort -for Bunny. - -Maud stood just within the doorway listening, dreading to hear the -indignant outcry that generally attended any movement of the poor little -crippled body. But she heard nothing beyond Jake's voice murmuring -unintelligibly, and in a few seconds the steady tread of his feet as he -entered the house. - -Then, while she stood listening, the feet drew near and there came a -pleased chuckle from Bunny. Jake came squarely in, carrying him like an -infant, and deposited him with infinite care among the cushions that -Maud hastily adjusted for his reception. - -"There you are, my son," he said. "Make yourself as much at home as you -can!" - -Bunny looked about him with keen interest. "Oh, I say, what a jolly -room! What a ripping room! You're beastly lucky to live here, Jake." - -"Oh, yes, it's a decent little crib," said Jake. "Those doorsteps were -just made for an evening pipe." - -He indicated the closed glass-panelled door. Maud went to it and found -that the ground sloped sharply away from this side of the house, -necessitating a flight of several steps. They led down into a sunny -space that was more orchard than garden,--fruit-trees and grass -spreading down the side of the hill towards the magic, pine-screened -grounds of Burchester Castle. - -Jake came and stood beside her for a moment. He was being studiously -impersonal that day, an attitude which curiously caused her more of -uneasiness than relief. - -"The arbour is at the end by those apple-trees," he said. "You can just -see the roof from here. It looks over the field where we train. It's -sport to watch the youngsters learning to run. Lord Saltash calls it -the grand stand." - -"Do you know Lord Saltash?" broke in Bunny. "He used to be a great pal -of ours once." - -"Oh, that was years ago--in London," said Maud quickly. "No doubt he -has quite forgotten our existence by this time." - -She spoke with unwitting sharpness, hotly aware that the lynx-like eyes -of her host were upon her. - -Bunny took instant offence. "I'm sure it wasn't years ago, Maud; and -you know it wasn't. It isn't more than two since we saw him last--if -that. As to forgetting all about us, that isn't very likely, -considering the mother was one of his bad debts." - -"Bunny!" Maud began in rare anger. - -But in the same moment Jake swung calmly round. "Say, Bunny, do you like -shrimps?" he asked. He moved to Bunny's side and stood looking down at -him. "I got some in case. Miss Brian, I hope shrimps are good for him, -are they?" - -"She doesn't know," said Bunny irritably. "What's the good of asking -her? Of course I like shrimps! Aren't we going to begin soon? I want -to go and see the horses." - -"You seem to be in an all-fired hurry," observed Jake. "Left your -manners behind, haven't you?" He took out his watch. "Half-past three! -All right, my son. We'll go at four, Miss Brian, do you mind pouring -out?" - -He set a chair for her facing the window, and sat down himself next to -Bunny. - -It seemed to Maud that, seated there in his own house, she saw him under -a new aspect. He played the host with ability and no small amount of -tact. - -He talked mainly about the stud, interesting her in a subject which she -had never before viewed at close quarters. He described various events -in which some of his charges had won distinction, and presently, to -Bunny's keen delight; he began a brief but stirring description of an -attempt to tamp with one of the animals two summers before on the eve of -one of the Graydown Races. Some inkling of the intended attempt had -reached him, and he himself had lain in wait to frustrate it. - -"But how?" cried Bunny breathlessly. - -"I decided to spend the night in the loose-box," said Jake. "There's no -hardship in sleeping alongside a good horse. I've done it many a time. -I wasn't so intimate with Lord Saltash then as I am now, but I knew -enough not to be altogether surprised when he came sliding into the -stable-yard a little after midnight in a two-seated car and made -straight for the loose-box where I was. The top half of the door was -ajar, and there was a dim lamp burning in the yard, but his head-lights -showed up everything like day. He pushed the top half right back and -leaned his arms on the lower and said, 'That you, Bolton?' I got up and -went to him. There was no one else about. 'I've put myself in charge -this trip,' I told him. 'You needn't be nervous.' He grinned in a -sickly sort of fashion and said, 'I am nervous--deuced nervous, and I'll -tell you why. If that brute runs to-morrow I'm a ruined man.' And then -he started jawing about some fool wager he'd made, said he was under the -thumb of some rascally booky, and actually began to try and talk me into -spoiling the animal's chances." - -Jake paused. He was looking at Maud as if he expected something. - -She looked back at him, her head very high, her eyes shining defiantly -bright. "Lord Saltash has a double apparently?" she said. - -"Now, that's real clever of you!" said Jake, with a smile. "Yes, that is -the key to the mystery, and I soon grasped it. He offered me a large sum -of money to prevent Pedro running. Pedro was listening to the -transaction with his head on my shoulder. I said yes to everything, and -then I suggested that we should settle the details outside where there -was no chance of witnesses. He agreed to that, and I picked up my whip -and got into his car after him, and we slipped out and ran about -half-a-mile into the Park where I stopped him." - -Jake paused again, still looking expectantly at the girl facing him. -She was flushed but evidently not greatly moved. - -"What a thrilling recital!" she said. - -And, "Go on!" urged Bunny impatiently. - -Jake laughed a little. "I felt rather a skunk myself. He was so sweetly -unsuspicious, till I used the cowboy clutch on him and tied up his arms -in his own coat. That opened his eyes, but it was a bit too late. He -was in for a cowhiding, and he realized it, scarcely showed fight, in -fact. I didn't let him off on that account, and I don't suppose he has -forgotten it to this day. I didn't quite flay him, but I made him feel -some." - -"And you let him go afterwards?" questioned Bunny. - -"Yes, I let him go." Jake took up his cup and drank in a contemplative -fashion. "After that," he said, in his slow way, "I went back to Pedro, -and we finished the night together. But--I don't know whether having -his rest disturbed upset his nerves any--he only managed to come in -second after all." - -"And Lord Saltash?" said Maud abruptly. "Did you ever tell him what had -happened?" - -"Oh yes," said Jake. "I told him the following evening, and he laughed -in his jolly way and said, 'Well, I'm glad you weren't taken in, but I'm -glad too that you let the poor devil go. A leathering from you couldn't -have been any such joke.' It wasn't," added Jake grimly. "It was as -unlike a joke as a blue pill is unlike raspberry jam." - -"But what became of the real man?" questioned Bunny. "Did he get clean -away?" - -"Clean away," said Jake. "And now--if you're ready--we'll go and see -the hero of that episode." - -"Who was the hero?" asked Maud, with a hint of sarcasm as she rose. - -He looked at her with a faint smile. "Why, Dom Pedro, of course," he -said. "Come along and make his acquaintance!" - - - - - CHAPTER X - - THE HEAD OF THE FAMILY - - -It was among the horses that Maud at length saw Jake Bolton in his true -element. They were all plainly very dear to his heart. He introduced -them as friends. His pockets were stuffed with sugar which both she and -Bunny helped to distribute, and not till dusk came upon them did they -realize the lateness of the hour. - -It was at the last minute that Jake suddenly summoned a little man who -was lounging in the gateway. "Here, Sam! I've been telling the lady -about your tumble and how they put you together again. It interested -her." - -Sam approached with a sheepish grin. "I thought I was a goner," he -said. "But Mr. Bolton--" he looked at Jake and his grin widened--"he's -one of the Never-say-die sort. And the Yankee doctor, well, he was a -regular knock-out, he was. Mended me as clean--well, there, you -wouldn't never have known I'd had a smash." - -One eye wandered down to Bunny in his long chair as he spoke; but he -discreetly refrained from comment, and it was Bunny who eagerly broke in -with: "What happened to you? Was it your spine? Let's hear!" - -Sam was only too willing to oblige. He settled down to his story like a -horse into its stride, and for nearly a quarter of an hour Maud stood -listening to the account of the miracle which, according to Sam Vickers, -the great American doctor had performed. - -Bunny drank it all in with feverish avidity. Maud did not like to watch -his face. The look it wore went to her heart. - -She did not want to glance at Jake either though after a time she felt -impelled to do so. His eyes were fixed upon Bunny, but on the instant -they came straight to hers as if she had spoken. She avoided them -instinctively, but she felt them none the less, as though a dazzling -searchlight had suddenly and mercilessly been turned upon her, piercing -straight to her soul. - -It was soon after this that he quietly intervened to put an end to Sam's -reminiscences. It was growing late, and they ought to be moving. - -Maud agreed; Bunny protested, and was calmly overruled by Jake. They -started back through a pearly greyness of dusk that heralded the rising -of the moon. They spoke but little as they went. Bunny seemed suddenly -tired, and it did not apparently occur to either of his companions to -attempt to make conversation. - -Only, as they descended the winding road that led down to Fairharbour -and a sudden clamour of church-bells arose through the evening mist, -Jake glanced again at the girl who was walking rather wearily by Bunny's -side, and said, "Wouldn't you like to go to Church now? I'll see to the -youngster." - -She shook her head. "Thank you very much; I don't think so." - -"Oh, go on, Maud!" exclaimed Bunny, emerging from his reverie. "I don't -want you if Jake will stay. I'd sooner have Jake. He doesn't fuss like -you." - -"I'll get him to bed," Jake went on, as if he had not spoken. "You can -trust me to do that, you know. I won't let him talk too much either. -Say, Miss Brian, it's a good offer; you'd better close with it." - -She heard the smile in the words; and because of it she found she could -not refuse. "But I don't like to give you so much trouble," she said. - -"You give me pleasure," he answered simply. - -At the gate of the churchyard he stopped. "I'll say good-bye," he said. -"But don't hurry back! I shall stay as long as I am wanted." - -She knew that she could rely upon him in that respect as upon no one -else in the world. She gave him her hand with another low word of -thanks. - -"May I walk to the door with you?" he said, and drew Bunny's chair to -one side. - -It would have been churlish to refuse. She suffered him in silence. - -The church was on an eminence that overlooked the harbour. Reaching the -porch, the whole wide view of open sea lay spread before them, flooded -in moonlight. The clanging bells above them had sunk to stillness. A -peace that seemed unearthly wrapped them round. They stood for the -moment quite alone, gazing out to the far, dim sky-line. - -And suddenly Maud heard the beating of her heart in the silence, and was -conscious of an overwhelming sense of doom. - -With an effort that seemed to tear at the very foundations of her being, -she turned and walked down a narrow path between the tombstones. He -followed her till in breathless agitation she turned again. - -"Mr. Bolton!" - -Her voice was no more than a whisper. She was thankful that her face -was in shadow. - -He stood silently, his eyes, alert and bright, fixed intently upon her. - -"I must ask you," she said, "--I must beg you--to regard what I said the -other day as final. If I am friendly with you, I want you to understand -that it is solely for Bunny's sake--no other reason." - -"That is understood," said Jake. - -She drew the quick breath of one seeking relief. "Then you will forget -that--that impossible notion? You will let me forget it too?" - -"I shan't remind you of it," said Jake. - -"And you will forget it yourself?" she insisted. - -He lowered his eyes suddenly, and it was as if a light had unexpectedly -gone out. She waited in the dark with a beating heart. - -And then with a great clash the bells broke out overhead and further -speech became impossible. Jake wheeled without warning, and walked -away. - -She stood and watched him go, still with that sense of coming fate upon -her. Her heart was leaping wildly like a chained thing seeking to -escape. - -As for Jake, he rejoined Bunny and squarely resumed the journey back to -the town, without the smallest sign of discomposure. - -He seemed somewhat absent, however, trudging along in almost unbroken -silence; and it was not until he laid the boy down at length in his own -room that he said, "Now, look here, youngster! If you can't be decently -civil to your sister, I've done with you. Understand?" - -Bunny turned impulsively and buried his face in Jake's sleeve. "All -right. Don't jaw!" he begged in muffled accents. - -Jake remained unmoved. "I've been wanting to punch your head most of -the afternoon," he remarked severely. - -"You can do it now if you like," muttered Bunny, burrowing a little -deeper. - -Jake did not respond to the invitation. "Why can't you behave yourself -anyway?" he said. - -He settled Bunny's pillows with a sure hand, and laid him gently back -upon them. But Bunny clung to him still. - -"You aren't really savage with me, Jake?" he said. - -"All right. I'm not," said Jake. "But I won't have it all the same; -savvy?" - -He put his hand for a moment on Bunny's head and rumpled the dark hair. -Bunny's lips quivered unexpectedly. - -"It's so--beastly--being managed always by women," he said. - -"You don't know when you're lucky," said Jake. - -Bunny's emotion passed. He looked at his friend shrewdly. "I suppose -you're in love with her," he remarked after a moment. - -Jake's eyes met his instantly and uncompromisingly. "Well?" he said. - -"Nothing," said Bunny. "Of course she's my sister." - -"And so you think you're entitled to a voice in the matter?" Jake's -tone was strictly practical. - -Bunny's fingers slipped into his. "I'm the head of the family, you -know, Jake," he said. - -The man's face softened to a smile. "Yes, I reckon that's so," he said. -"Well? What has the head of the family to say to the notion?" - -Bunny turned rather red. "You see,--you're not a mister, are you?" he -said. - -"Not a gentleman, you mean?" suggested Jake. - -Bunny's uneasiness increased. He squeezed Jake's hand very hard in -silence. - -"All right, little chap," said Jake. "Don't agitate yourself! I'm not -what you call a gentleman,--not even a first-class imitation. Let's go -on from there! Any other objections?" - -"I don't want to be a cad, Jake!" burst from Bunny. "But you know--you -know--she might have done a lot better for herself. She might have -married Charlie Burchester." - -"Who?" said Jake. - -"Lord Saltash," explained Bunny. "We thought--everyone thought--five -years ago--that they were going to get married. He was awfully keen on -her, and she of course was in love with him. And then there was that -row with the Cressadys. Lady Cressady got him into a mess, and Sir -Philip always was an obnoxious beast. And afterwards Charlie Burchester -sheered off and went abroad. He came back after he succeeded, but -Maud--she's awfully proud, you know,--she wouldn't look at him, vows she -never will again--though I'm not so sure she won't. He's sure to come -back some day. He's such a rattling good sort, and he's jolly fond of -her." - -"And the rest," said Jake drily. - -"No, really, Jake, he isn't a rotter. He's an awfully nice chap. You'd -say so if you really knew him." - -"I do know him," said Jake. - -"And you don't like him?" Bunny's eyes opened wide in astonishment. - -"Yes, I like him." Jake's tone was enigmatical. "But I shouldn't call -him a marrying man. Anyway, he won't marry your sister, so you can make -up your mind to that! Any other gentlemen in the running?" - -"You couldn't prevent their being married if--if Maud changed her mind," -said Bunny. - -Jake smiled. "Anyone else?" he persisted. - -"No, no one. She never sees anybody now." - -"Except me," said Jake. "And I'm not genteel enough, hey?" - -"You're a brick!" said Bunny with enthusiasm. "But, you know, women -don't see that sort of thing. They only care about whether a man opens -the door for 'em or takes off his glove to shake hands." - -Jake broke into a laugh. "Say, sonny, what a thundering lot you know -about women!" he said. "Anyway, I conclude I am right in surmising that -you personally could swallow me as a brother-in-law?" - -Bunny's eyes began to shine. "You're the best fellow I know," he said. -"If--if it weren't for Lord Saltash, I wouldn't say a word!" - -"Well," said Jake very deliberately, "I refuse to be warned off on his -account. That's understood, is it?" - -Bunny hesitated. The red-brown eyes were looking full and unwaveringly -into his. "I'm not thinking of myself, Jake," he said, with sudden -pleading. - -Jake's hand closed squarely upon his. "All right, old chap, I know; and -I like you for it. But I'm taking odds. It's ninety-nine to one. If I -win on the hundredth chance, you'll take it like a sport?" - -Bunny's hand returned his grip with all the strength at his command. He -was silent for a moment or two; then, impulsively: "I say, Jake," he -said, "--you--you're such a sport yourself! I think I'll back you after -all." - -"Right O!" said Jake. "You won't be sorry." - -He dismissed the subject then with obvious intention, and Bunny seemed -relieved to let it go. He turned the conversation to Sam Vickers, -asking endless questions regarding the American doctor and his miracles. - -"I wish he'd come and have a look at me, Jake," he said wistfully at -length. - -"Thought you didn't like doctors," said Jake. - -"Oh, a man like that is different. I'd put up with a man like that," -said Bunny, with a sigh. - -"You might have to put up with more than you bargained for," said Jake. - -Bunny moved his head wearily on the pillow. "I don't think anything -could be worse than this," he said. - -"I'm glad to hear you say so," said Jake, with sudden force; and then, -pulling himself up as suddenly, "No, we won't get talking on that -subject. Capper's in America, and you've got to sleep to-night. But -you keep a stiff upper lip, old chap! I'm in with you from start to -finish. Maybe, some day, we'll work a change." - -"You're no end of a trump!" said Bunny with tears in his eyes. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE DECLARATION OF WAR - - -For three weeks after that Sunday visit to Jake's home, life went on as -usual, and a certain measure of tranquillity returned to Maud. - -She found herself able to meet the man without any show of -embarrassment, and, finding him absolutely normal in his behaviour -towards her, she began to feel a greater confidence in his presence. He -had promised that he would not force himself upon her, and it was -evident that he had every intention of keeping his word. That he might -by imperceptible degrees draw nearer to her, become more intimate, was a -possibility that for a time troubled her; but he was so absolutely -considerate in all his dealings with her that this fear of hers at -length died away. If he were playing a waiting game he did it with a -patience so consummate that his tactics were wholly hidden from her. He -had to all appearances accepted her decision as final, and put the -notion away as impracticable. - -Christmas was drawing near, and several visitors had already arrived. -There was generally a short season at Christmas, during which the Anchor -Hotel had its regular patrons. Its landlord was in an extremely -variable state of mind, sometimes aggressive, sometimes jovial, -frequently not wholly sober. Maud avoided all contact with him with -rigorous persistence, her mother's protests notwithstanding. - -"He can't be civil to me," she said, "and he shall not have the -opportunity of being anything else." - -And no persuasion could move her from this attitude. Mrs. Sheppard was -obliged reluctantly to abandon the attempt. She herself was seldom out -of favour with her husband, whatever his condition, and that after all -was what mattered most. - -But the state of affairs was such as was almost bound to lead to a -climax sooner or later. Giles Sheppard's hectoring mood was not of the -sort to be satisfied for long with passive avoidance. Every glimpse he -had of the girl, who ate his bread but disdained to do so in his company -or the company of his friends, inflamed him the more hotly against her. -It needed but a pretext to set his wrath ablaze, and a pretext was not -far to seek. - -One day about a week before Christmas he unexpectedly presented himself -at the door of Bunny's room. - -The weather was damp and raw, and a cheerful fire burned there. Bunny -was lying among pillows on the sofa. He had had a bad night, and his -face, as he turned it to the intruder, was white and drawn. - -"What on earth--" he began querulously. - -Sheppard entered with arrogance, leaving the door wide open behind him. -"Look here!" he said harshly. "You've got to turn out of this. The room -is wanted." - -Maud, who was dusting the room as was her daily custom, turned swiftly -round with something of the movement of a tigress. Her face was pale -also. She had slept even less than Bunny the previous night. Her blue -eyes shone like two flames under her knitted brows. - -"What do you mean?" she said. - -He looked at her with insult in his eyes. "I mean just that, my fine -madam," he said. "This room is wanted. The boy will have to go with the -rest of the lumber--at the top of the house." - -It was brutally spoken, but the brutality was aimed at her, not Bunny. -Maud realized that fact, and curbed her resentment. She could -endure--or so she fancied--his personal hostility with fortitude. But -his announcement was sufficiently disquieting in itself. - -"I understood that we were not to be disturbed at any time," she said, -meeting his look with that icy pride of hers that was the only weapon at -her command. "Surely some other arrangement can be made?" - -Sheppard growled out a strangled oath; she always made him feel at a -disadvantage, this slip of a girl whom he could have picked up with one -hand had he chosen. - -"I tell you, this room is wanted," he reiterated stormily. "You'd better -clear out at once." - -"Bunny can't possibly be moved to-day," Maud said quickly and decidedly. -"He is in pain. Can't you see for yourself how impossible it is? I am -quite sure no visitor who knew the facts of the case would wish to turn -him out." - -Sheppard stamped a furious foot. He was getting up his fury; and -suddenly she saw that he had been drinking. The knowledge came upon her -in a flash of understanding, and with it a disgust so complete that it -overwhelmed every other consideration. - -She pointed to the door. "Go!" she said, in tense, frozen accents. "Go -at once! How dare you come in here in this state?" - -Before her withering disdain he drew back, as it were involuntarily. He -even half turned to obey. Then, suddenly some devil prompted him, and -he swung back again. With one gigantic stride he reached the sofa; and -before either brother or sister knew what he intended to do he had -roughly seized upon the boy's slight body and lifted it in his great -arms. - -Bunny's agonized outcry at the action mingled with his sister's, but it -ceased almost immediately. He collapsed in the giant grip like an empty -sack, and Sheppard, now wrought to a blind fury that had no thought for -consequences, carried him from the room and along the passage to the -stairs, utterly unheeding the fact that he had fainted. - -Maud, nearly beside herself, went with him, striving to support the limp -body where long experience had taught her support was needed. They went -up the stairs so, flight after flight, Sheppard savage and stubborn, the -girl in a dumb agony of anxiety, seeking only to relieve the dreadful -strain that had bereft Bunny of his senses. - -They reached at length a room at the top of the house, a bare garret of -a place with sloping ceiling and uncarpeted floor. There was a bed -under the skylight, and on this the man deposited his burden. - -Then he turned and looked at Maud with eyes of cruel malevolence. "This -is good enough for you and yours," he said. - -Over Bunny's body she flung her fruitless defiance. "You drunken brute!" -she said. "You loathsome coward! You hateful, tipsy bully!" - -The words pierced him like the stabs of a dagger too swift to evade. He -was sober enough to be cowed. - -From the door he looked back at her, where she stood at the bedside, -upright, quivering, a dart-like creature full of menace despite her -delicacy of form and fibre. Again he knew himself to be at a -disadvantage. He had not drunk enough to be intrepid. Swearing and -malignant, he withdrew like a savage beast. But as he went, the madness -of hatred rose in a swirl to his brain. She had defied him, had she? -Her bitter words rang again and again in his ears. She had proclaimed -him a drunkard, a coward, a bully! And she thought he would put up with -it. Did she? Did she? Thought she could insult him with impunity in -his own house! Thought he would tamely endure her impertinences for all -time! He ground his teeth as he went down to the bar. He would have a -reckoning with her presently. Yes, there should be a reckoning. He had -borne with her too long--too long! Now matters had come to a head. She -would either have to humble herself or go. - -He had tried to be patient. He had hoped that Jake Bolton would soon -relieve him of the unwelcome burden he had taken upon himself. Jake -could tame her; he was quite sure of that. But Jake seemed to be making -no headway. He had even begun to wonder lately if Jake meant business -after all. - -In any case he was at the end of his patience; and when his wife came to -him with tears to remonstrate on behalf of poor little Bunny he hardened -himself against her and refused to discuss the subject. - -As for Maud, she spent the rest of the day in trying to make Bunny's new -quarters habitable. She hoped with all her heart that Jake would come -in the evening so that they could move him into the room she occupied, a -floor lower, which had at least a fireplace. But for once Jake -disappointed her, and so the whole day passed in severe pain for Bunny -and vexation of spirit for her. - -Towards evening to her relief he began to doze. She watched beside him -anxiously. He had been very plucky, displaying an odd protective -attitude towards herself that had gone to her heart; but she knew that -at times he had suffered intensely and the fact had been almost more -than she could bear. She knew that it would be days before he would -shake off the effects of the rough handling he had received, and she -dreaded the future with a foreboding that made her feel physically sick. - -Now that Sheppard's animosity had developed into active hostility, she -knew that the situation could not last much longer, but how to escape it -remained a problem unsolved. Her uncle had made no reply to her letter. -She could not write to him again. And there was no one else to whom she -could appeal. Alone, she could have faced the world and somehow made a -way for herself; but with Bunny-- She clenched her hands in impotent -anguish. There was only one person in the world willing to lift the -burden from her, only one person besides herself who really cared for -Bunny. She suddenly began to tremble. That sense of approaching doom -was upon her again. The current had caught her surely, surely, and was -whirling her away. - -Bunny stirred--as though somehow caught in the net of her -emotions--stirred and came out of uneasy slumber. - -"I say, Maud!" - -"What is it, darling? Are you uncomfortable?" There was a wealth of -mother-love in her low voice as she bent above him. - -Bunny put out a cold, moist hand. "I say, Maud," he said again, "Jake's -a good sort. You like Jake, don't you?" - -"Yes, darling," she answered soothingly. - -He turned his head on the pillow; she could feel his fingers opening and -closing in the restless way he had. "I like him too," he said. "I like -him awfully. He's--the real thing. I wish----" - -"What, Bunny?" There was constraint in her voice, and she knew it, but -it was a subject upon which she could not bring herself to speak freely. -She dreaded his answer more than she could have said. - -Possibly he divined the fact, for he heaved a sharp sigh and said, -"Nothing," in a tone that told her that he was very far from satisfied. - -But she could not pursue the matter. Thankfully she let it drop. - -The evening wore away. There was only one candle in the room. By it -she and Bunny ate the supper which Maud herself had fetched from the -kitchen. No one had time to wait upon them. The boy was still trying -to make the best of things, and she marvelled at his courage. - -When the meal was over he looked at her with a faint smile under his -drawn brows. "Look here, Maud! There's that bed in the corner. Can't -you make it comfortable and get a good night for once?" - -She looked at him in surprise. It was very unusual for Bunny to give a -thought to her comfort. - -"Yes, I want you to," he said. "Go and undress, and then bring your -blankets up here! You can't sit up all night in a straight-backed -chair, so you may as well be comfortable. Don't stare! Go and do it!" - -The bed in the corner was a thing of broken springs and crippled -frame-work, but it had a mattress of straw albeit bedclothes were -lacking. Bunny's suggestion seemed feasible, and since it was plain -that he would not be content unless she followed it she yielded without -demur. Her own room was only a flight of stairs away, and she had -already fetched several things from it for his comfort. She hoped to -get him down to it on the following day, if only Jake would come. It -was neither warm nor spacious, but it was preferable to this fireless -attic. - -She brought the blankets, and arranged the bed. "I don't think I'll -undress, Bunny," she said. - -"You are to," said Bunny. "Jake says no one can possibly rest properly -without." - -She was inclined to resent this assertion of Jake's teaching, but again -she yielded. Bunny was in a mood to work himself into a fever if his -behests were not obeyed. - -She went down and undressed therefore, and presently slipped up to him -again, hoping to find him asleep. But he was wide-eyed and restless. - -"It's so beastly cold," he said. "I can't sleep. My feet are like -stones. Where's the fur rug?" - -She looked round for it. "Oh, Bunny, I'm so sorry. I must have left it -in your room downstairs. Never mind! Here's a blanket instead!" - -She was already pulling it off her bed when Bunny asserted himself once -more. - -"Maud, I won't have it! I will not have it! Do you hear? Put it back -again! Why can't you go and fetch the fur rug?" - -"My dear, I can't go down like this," she objected. - -"Rot!" said Bunny. "Everyone's gone to bed by now. If you don't get it, -they'll be turning the room out in the morning, and it'll get lost. -Besides, you look all right." - -She was wearing no more than a light wrap over her night-dress; but, as -Bunny said, it was probable that everyone had retired, for the hour was -late. Only a few dim lights were left burning in the passages. There -would be no one about, and it would not take two minutes to slip down -and get the rug. She dropped the blanket he had refused, and went -softly out. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - THE RECKONING - - -The whole house was in silence as noiselessly she stole down the stairs. -It was close upon midnight, and she did not meet or hear anyone. The -place might have been empty, so still was it. - -The long, long roar of the sea came to her as she groped her way down -the winding, dark passage that led to the room from which Bunny had been -so rudely ejected a few hours before. There was no light here, but she -knew her way perfectly, and, finding the door, softly opened it and -turned on the electric light. - -The room was just as she had left it, the sofa drawn up by the burnt-out -fire. She had collected all Bunny's things earlier in the evening, but, -since the rug had been forgotten, she thought it advisable to take the -opportunity of ascertaining if anything else had been left behind. She -found the rug, pushed the sofa back against the wall, and began a quiet -search of all the drawers and other receptacles the room contained. - -She had almost finished her task, and was just closing the writing-table -drawer when a sudden sound made her start. A creaking footstep came -from the passage beyond the open door. She turned swiftly with a -jerking heart to see her step-father, bloated and malignant, standing on -the threshold. - -For a single instant he stood there looking at her, and a great throb of -misgiving went through her at the savage triumph in his eyes. He had -been drinking, drinking heavily she was sure; but he did not seem to be -intoxicated, only horribly sure of himself, brutally free from any -trammels of civilization. He closed the door with decision, and moved -forward. - -In the same moment she moved also towards the sofa over which she had -thrown the rug she had come to fetch. Her heart was beating hard and -fast, but she would not address a single word to him, would not so much -as seem to see him. Supremely disdainful, she prepared to gather up her -property and go. - -But as she turned to the door she found him barring the way. He spoke, -thickly yet not indistinctly. - -"Not so fast, my fine madam! I've got to have a reckoning with you." - -She drew herself up to the utmost of her slim height, and gave him a -single brief glance of disgust. "Be good enough to let me pass!" she -said, in tones of clear command. - -But Sheppard did not move. He had been fortifying himself against any -sudden strain such as this all day long. - -"Not so fast!" he said again, with a gleam of teeth under his dark -moustache. "You made a mistake this morning, young woman; a very big -mistake. Don't make another to-night!" - -Maud froze to an icier contempt. The steady courage of her must have -shamed any man in his sober senses. - -"Stand aside instantly," she said, "or I shall ring the bell and rouse -the house!" - -He laughed at that, a cruel, vindictive laugh. "Oh, you don't come over -me that way! You mean to have your lesson, I see, and p'raps it's as -well. It's been postponed too long already. There's a deal too much -spirit about you, and too much lip too. You think I'll put up with -anything, don't you? Think yourself much too high and mighty to -associate with the likes of me? Think you can call me any darn' names -you please, and I'll bear 'em like a lamb?" - -His voice rose. Obviously his temper was already beyond control. He -was in fact lashing it on to fury. Maud knew the process well. - -It was enough for her, and she waited for no more. She stepped quietly -to the bell. - -She was nearer to it than he, and she did not for a moment imagine that -he would dare to molest her. But she had not realized the maddened -condition to which he had wrought himself; and even when he suddenly and -violently strode forward she did not draw back or dream that he would -touch her. - -Only as his hand caught her outstretched arm did the knowledge that he -was as utterly beyond control as a wild beast burst upon her. She -uttered a desperate cry, and began a sharp, instinctive struggle to -escape. - -It was a very brief struggle, so taken by surprise and utterly -unprepared was she. One moment she was fighting wildly for freedom; the -next he had her at his mercy. - -"Oh, you may scream!" he gibed. "No one will hear you! Now--do you -know what I am going to do to you?" - -"Let me go!" she panted, crimson and breathless. - -He locked her two wrists together in one iron hand. His strength was -utterly irresistible. She was as a pigmy in the grip of a giant. - -"I'll let you go when I've done with you," he said, gloating openly over -her quivering helplessness. "But first you will have your lesson. I'm -going to give you the trouncing of your life!" - -With the words he suddenly wrenched her round and forced her, almost -flung her, face downwards over the sofa-head. - -"You've been spoiling for this for a long time," he said, "and--being -your step-father--I'll see that you get it. Never had a good spanking -before in all your life, I daresay? Well, well see how you like this -one!" - -And therewith he pulled off one of his down-at-heel carpet slippers and -proceeded to flog her with it, as if she had been a boy. - -What she went through during that awful chastisement Maud never forgot. -She fought at first like a mad creature till she was suddenly aware of -the light wrap she wore ripping in all directions, and from that moment -she resisted no more, standing passive in an agony of apprehension while -he wreaked upon her all the pent malice of the past few weeks. - -It was a brutal punishment, administered with the savage intention of -breaking down the stark silence with which she sought to meet it. And -even when he succeeded at last, even when the girl's strength went from -her and she collapsed as he held her with a wild burst of hysterical -crying and broken, unnerved entreaties, he did not stay his hand. Now -was his grand opportunity for vengeance, and he might never get another. -He did not spare her until he had inflicted the utmost of which he was -capable. - -Then at last roughly he set her free. "That's right! Blub away!" he -jeered. "I've taken all the stiffening out of you at last, and a damn' -good job too. P'raps you'll keep a civil tongue in your head for the -future, and give me no more of your dratted impudence. There's nothing -like a sound drubbing to bring a woman to her senses. But I don't -advise you to qualify for another." - -He put on his slipper, breathing somewhat heavily after his exertions, -then stood up and wiped his forehead. His fury had exhausted itself. -His mood had become one of semi-malicious elation. - -He looked at the girl still crouched over the sofa-head, sobbing and -convulsed, utterly broken, utterly conquered. - -"Come!" he said. "Don't let us have any more nonsense! You won't give -me any more of your airs after this, and we shall be all the better -friends for it. Stand up and say you're sorry!" - -She gasped and gasped again, but no words could she utter. The hateful -callousness of the man could not so much as rouse her scorn. Her pride -was in the dust. - -He took her by the arm and pulled her roughly up, making her stand -before him though she was scarcely capable of standing. - -"Come!" he began again, and broke off with a brutal laugh, staring at -her. - -A flame of fierce humiliation went through her, burning her from head to -foot as she realized that her night-dress had been rent open across her -bosom. She caught it together in her trembling fingers, shrinking in an -anguish of shame from the new devil that had begun to gibe at her out of -his bloodshot eyes. - -He laughed again. "Well, my fine madam, we seem to have pitched the -proprieties overboard quite completely this time. All your own fault, -you know. Serves you jolly well right. You aren't going to say you're -sorry, eh? Well, well, I'd give you another spanking if I felt equal to -it, but I don't. So I'll have the kiss of peace instead." - -He caught her to him with the words, gripped her tightly round the body, -tilted her head back; and for one unspeakable moment the heavy moustache -was crushed suffocatingly upon her panting lips. - -In that moment the strength of madness entered into Maud, such strength -as was later wholly beyond her own comprehension. With frenzied force -she resisted him, fighting as if for her very life, and so suddenly, so -unexpectedly, that in sheer astonishment his grip relaxed. - -It was her one chance of escape, and she seized it. With a single -furious wrench she tore herself from him, not caring how she did it, -found herself free, and fled, fled like a mad thing, panting, -dishevelled, frantic, from the room. - -His laugh of half-tipsy derision followed her, and all the devils of -hatred, malice, and bitter cauterizing shame went with her as she fled. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - THE ONLY PORT - - -It was a rainy, squally morning, and Jake returning from the Stables -after an early ride, looked down at his muddy gaiters with momentary -hesitation. Mrs. Lovelace, his cook and housekeeper, objected very -strongly to muddy gaiters in what she was pleased to call "her parlour." -They generally meant disaster to a clean table-doth, though Jake himself -could never be made to see why, since he was the only person to use it -and never noticed its condition, this should be regarded as a matter of -vital importance. - -On the present occasion, Mrs. Lovelace being out of sight and hearing, -he decided to risk detection, and, leaving his cap on a peg in the dark -oak passage, he passed on to the room overlooking the downs and the -distant sea in which he had once entertained Bunny and his sister. - -Breakfast would be awaiting him, he knew; and he was more than ready for -breakfast. In fact he was ravenously hungry, and he hastened to hide -the offending gaiters under the spotless table-doth as soon as he had -rung the bell for the dish which was being kept hot for him. - -When Mrs. Lovelace came stoutly in, he greeted her with a smile. "I'm -late this morning. Been having a tussle with one of the youngsters. -No, don't put that whip away! It wants a new lash. What a cussed -nuisance this rain is! The ground is a quagmire, and the animals can -hardly keep their feet. Any letters?" - -"One, sir," said Mrs. Lovelace, and laid it before him. Then she looked -at him searchingly. "Did you get very muddy?" she enquired. - -"What?" said Jake. He took up his letter. "Yes, you can take the -cover. No, leave the coffee! I'll pour that out when I'm ready. -Muddy? Look out of the window, my good woman, if you want to know! -Don't wait! Time's precious, and I guess you're busy." - -Again he smiled upon Mrs. Lovelace, his pleasant, candid smile; and Mrs. -Lovelace had perforce to smile back and withdraw. - -Jake heaved a sigh of relief, and began his breakfast. His letter, -bearing a purple crest of a fox's head and under it the motto: _Sans -Vertu_, lay on the table before him. He eyed it as he ate, and presently -took it up. It bore a Swiss stamp. - -Jake opened it and read: - -"DEAR BOLTON, - -"I meant to winter in Cairo, and heaven alone knows why I am here. It -is fiendishly cold, and blowing great guns. There was skating when I -arrived, but that is a dream of the oast. We now slop about knee-deep -in slush or play cat's cradle in the _salon_ during the day. We dance -or cuddle in corners practically all night. Some of the female portion -of the community are quite passably attractive, but I always preferred -one goddess to a crowd, and she is not to be found here. Unless it -freezes within the next forty-eight hours, I shall come back to beastly -old England and look for her. So if I should turn up at Burchester -within the next few days, please accept this (the only) intimation and -have the stud ready for inspection. - -"Yours sincerely, - "SALTASH." - -Jake's face wore a curious expression as he folded the letter and -returned it to the envelope. It was what Bunny called his "cowboy" -look--a look in which humour and sheer, savage determination were very -oddly mingled. There was a good deal of the primitive man about him at -that moment. He continued his breakfast with business-like rapidity and -presently helped himself to coffee with a perfectly steady hand. - -The cup, however, was still untasted beside him when Mrs. Lovelace once -more made her appearance, her plump face looking somewhat startled. - -"Miss Brian has called, sir. Wishes to see you for a moment. Shall I -show her in?" - -Jake's chair scraped back and he was on his feet in a single movement. -"Of course! Where is she? No, I'll fetch her myself. Out of the way, -my good woman!" - -He removed her from his path without the smallest ceremony, and was gone -before she could protest. - -In the passage he almost ran into his visitor. "Miss Brian! Is that -you? Come right in! Snakes! You're wet. Come along to the fire!" - -He had her by it before his greeting was fully uttered. A man of action -at all times, was Jake. And Maud, still panting from her recent -struggle with the elements, found herself in an easy-chair, holding -numbed fingers to the blaze almost before she realized how she came to -be there. He knelt beside her, unbuttoning her streaming waterproof. -She saw the glint of the firelight on his chestnut hair. - -"Thank you," she said, with an effort. "You are very kind." - -He looked at her with those lynx-like eyes of his. "Say, you're -perished!" he said, in his soft, easy drawl. - -She smiled quiveringly at the concern in his face. She had expected a -precipitate enquiry about Bunny, but it was evident that he had thoughts -only for her at that moment. And she was very badly in need of human -kindness and consideration just then. - -She sat huddled over the fire, all the queenliness gone out of her, -tried to speak to him twice and failed; finally, shook her head and sat -in silence. - -He got up and reached across the table for the coffee he had just poured -out. - -"Drink a little!" he said, holding it to her. "You need it." - -She made a small gesture of impotence. Somehow the warmth and comfort -of the room after the cheerless cold without had upset her. She still -smiled, but it was a puckered, difficult smile, and her eyes were full -of tears. She could not take the cup. Her throat worked painfully. -Again she shook her head. - -Jake stood beside her for a moment or two looking down at her, then with -swift decision he set down the coffee, stepped to the door and quietly -turned the key. - -He came back to her with the steady purpose of a man quite sure of -himself, knelt again by her side, put his arm about her. - -"You lean on me, my girl!" he said softly. "Don't be afraid!" - -She gave him a quick look. The tears were running down her face. She -covered it suddenly with both hands and sobbed. - -He drew her to him so gently that she was hardly aware of the action -till her head came to rest on his shoulder. His free hand, strong and -purposeful, took possession of one of hers and sturdily held it. - -"It's all right," he murmured to her soothingly. "It's all right." - -She wept for awhile without restraint, her nerves completely shattered, -her pride laid low. And while she wept, Jake held her, strongly, -sustainingly, his red-brown eyes staring unblinkingly full into the -heart of the fire. - -At the end of a long interval she grew a little calmer, made as if she -would withdraw herself. But very quietly he frustrated her. - -"No, not while you're feeling so badly. Say, now, let me take off your -hat! Guess I can do it without you moving." - -She was not in a condition to forbid him, and he removed it with -considerable dexterity, while she still hid her quivering face against -him with an instinctive confidence that paid a dumb tribute to the man's -complete mastery of himself. - -"I'm dreadfully sorry--to have behaved like this," she whispered at -last. - -"You needn't be sorry for that," said Jake. "No one will know except -me. And I don't count." - -"I think you do," she faltered, and made a more decided effort to free -herself. - -He let her go with a kindly pat on the shoulder. "Say, now, if that -coffee ain't cold, p'raps you'll try a sip." - -He reached for it and held it to her without rising. She lifted the cup -in both her trembling hands while he held the saucer, and slowly drank. - -Jake's eyes went with abrupt directness to her wrists as she did it. He -did not speak at the moment. Only as she returned the cup he put it -quietly aside and laid his hand over hers. - -"What's that skunk Sheppard been doing to you?" he asked. - -She shrank at the straight question "How--how did you know----" - -He lifted his hand and pushed back her sleeves without speaking. There -was something dreadful about him as he regarded the bruises thus -exposed. - -A quick fear went through her. "Jake," she said sharply, "that--is no -affair of yours. You are not to--interfere." - -His eyes came up to hers and the hardness went from him on the instant. -"I reckon you're going to make some use of me," he said. - -She trembled a little and turned her face away. She had used his -Christian name spontaneously, and now suddenly she found that all -formality had gone from between them. It disconcerted her, frightened -her, made her uncertain as to his attitude as well as her own. - -Jake waited a few seconds; then with the utmost gentleness he laid his -hand again upon hers. "Are you afraid to say it?" he said. - -"To say--what?" Her hands moved agitatedly beneath his till strangely, -unexpectedly, they turned and clasped it with convulsive strength. -"Yes, I am afraid," she said, with a sob. - -"But I asked you to marry me weeks ago," said Jake. - -Her head was bowed. She sought to avoid his look. "I know you did." - -"And you are going to marry me," he said, in a tone that was scarcely a -question. - -She turned desperately and faced him. "I must have a clear -understanding with you first," she said. - -"I--see," said Jake. - -He met her eyes with the utmost directness, and before his look hers -wavered and fell. "Please!" she whispered. "You must agree to that." - -He did not speak for a moment, but his fingers wound themselves closely -about her own. - -"I don't want you to be scared," he said finally. "But--that's a mighty -big thing you've asked of me." - -Maud's face was burning. "I knew it isn't for me to make--conditions," -she said, under her breath. - -A gleam of humour crossed Jake's face. "I guess it's up to me to accept -or refuse," he said. "But--suppose I refuse--what are you going to do -then? Will you marry me--all the same?" - -She shook her head instantly. "I don't know what I shall do, Jake. -I--I must go back and think." - -She mustered her strength and made as if she would rise, but he checked -her. - -"Wait!" he said. "I haven't refused--yet. Lean back and rest a bit! -I've got to do some thinking too." - -She obeyed him because it seemed that he must be obeyed. He got to his -feet. - -"Poor girl!" he said gently. "It hasn't been easy for you, has it? -Reckon you've just been driven to me for refuge. I'm the nearest port, -that's all." - -"The only port," Maud answered, with a shiver. - -"All right," he said. "It's a safe one. But--" He left the sentence -unfinished and turned to the window. - -She lay back with closed eyes, counting the hard throbs of her heart -while she waited. He was very quiet, standing behind her with his face -to the storm-driven clouds. She longed to know what was passing in his -mind, but she could not break the silence. It held her like a spell -while the clock on the mantelpiece ticked the dragging minutes away. She -whispered to her racing heart that the moment he moved she would rise -and go. But while the silence lasted she could not bring herself to -stir. She was worn out physically and mentally, almost too weary for -thought. - -He moved at length rather suddenly, wheeled round before she was aware, -and came back to the fire. - -"Don't get up!" he said. "You look ready to drop, and you may just as -well hear what I have to say sitting. It won't make a mite of -difference." - -She raised her eyes to his in unconscious appeal. "I am afraid I have -made a mistake," she said. - -She saw his smile for a moment. "No, you haven't made a mistake, my -girl. You're safe with me. But I wonder if you have the faintest idea -now why I want you for my wife." - -The simple directness of his speech touched her as she did not want to -be touched. She sat silent, her hands clasped tightly together. - -"You haven't," he said. "And p'raps this isn't the time to tell you. -You've come to me for refuge--as I hoped you would--and I shan't abuse -your confidence. But, you know, I had a reason." - -He paused, but she still said nothing. Only she could not meet his eyes -any longer. She looked away into the fire, waiting for him to continue. - -"Say, now," he said, after a moment, "if I make a bargain with you, you -won't accuse me of taking advantage of your position?" - -She winced a little. "I wish you--to forget--that I ever said that." - -"All right. It is forgotten," said Jake. "I'll go ahead. We haven't -mentioned Bunny though I take it he is a fairly big factor in the case. -That is to say, if it hadn't been for Bunny, you would never have taken -this step." - -Maud's eyes went swiftly up to his. "But of course I shouldn't!" she -said quickly. "I thought you understood that." - -"I quite understand," said Jake. "I assure you I'm not taking anything -for granted. But now--I want to put it to you--supposing the impossible -happened, supposing Bunny were cured,--yes, it's only the hundredth -chance, I know--still, just for a moment, suppose it! Bunny cured, able -to look after himself like other lads. You would be married to me. -What then?" - -"What then?" She repeated the words, still with an effort meeting his -look. - -He made a slight gesture with one hand. "You would stick to me?" - -The hot colour flooded her face and neck. "Of course," she said, her -voice very low. "That goes without saying." - -He bent slowly towards her. "Maud, if we ever live alone together, it -must be as man and wife." - -His voice was low too, but she heard in it a deep note that seemed to -pierce through and through her. His eyes drew and held her own. She -wanted to avoid them but could not. They burned like the red, inner -heart of a furnace. - -The blood receded from her face. She felt it go. "We--need never live -alone," she said faintly. - -He held out a quiet hand to her. "P'raps not. But I should like your -promise to that, all the same." He paused a moment; then added: "I have -sworn already to be good to you, remember." - -She laid her hand in his. She could not do otherwise. He held it and -waited. - -"Very well," she said at last, her voice almost a whisper. "I--agree." - -He let her go, and straightened himself. "It's a deal, then," he said. -"And now for more immediate details. You've decided to marry me, and I -gather you don't mind how soon?" - -He picked up a clay pipe from the mantelpiece, and knocked out some ash -against the fireplace. - -Maud watched him with a curious species of fascination. There was -something in the man's serenity of mien that puzzled her, something that -did not go with those fiery, possessive eyes. - -He looked at her with a smile that was half-quizzical, half-kindly, and -her heart began to beat more freely. - -"We must somehow get away from 'The Anchor' to-day," she said. "I have -a little money. Perhaps if you would help me to move Bunny, we could go -into lodgings again until----" - -"I have a little money too," said Jake. "And I will certainly help you. -But first,--do you object to telling me what has been happening at 'The -Anchor'?" - -She coloured again vividly, painfully, but he was fully engrossed with -the filling of his pipe and did not notice her embarrassment. - -"To begin with," she said with difficulty, "he--Mr. Sheppard--has turned -us out of the room downstairs. He carried Bunny off himself to an attic -under the roof, and hurt him horribly. I was driven nearly mad at the -time." She broke off, shuddering at the remembrance. - -Jake frowned. "Go on!" he said briefly. - -She went on with increasing difficulty. "That happened yesterday. I -hoped you would come round in the afternoon or evening, but you didn't." - -"I couldn't get away," he interpolated. "Yes? And then?" - -"Then--in the evening--that is, late at night--" Maud stumbled like a -nervous child--"I went down to fetch something and he--he came in after -me, half-tipsy; and--and--he--" She halted suddenly. "I can't go on!" -she said, with quivering lips. - -Jake laid aside his pipe and stooped over her. "Did he beat you, or did -he make love to you? Which?" he said. - -There was a sound in his voice like the growl of an angry beast. She -could not look him in the face. - -"Tell me!" he said, and laid an imperative hand on her shoulder. "You -need never tell anyone else." - -She shrank a little. "I don't see why I should tell you," she said -reluctantly. - -"You must tell me," said Jake with decision. - -And, after brief hesitation, miserably, with face averted, she yielded -and told him. After all, why should he not know? Her dainty pride was -crushed for ever. She could sink no lower. - -"He held me down and thrashed me--with his slipper. I was in my -night-dress, and--and it was rather a brutal thrashing. Perhaps some -women wouldn't have minded it much; but I--I am not used to that kind of -treatment. I hope you will never beat me, Jake. I don't bear it very -heroically." - -She tried to laugh, but it was a piteous little sound that came from her -quivering throat. - -Jake's hand closed upon her shoulder. She seemed to feel the whole man -vibrate behind it like a steel spring. Yet he made no comment whatever. -"Go on!" he said, his voice short and stern. "Tell me everything!" - -She braced herself to finish. "He went on till he was tired. I believe -I was wailing like a baby, but no one heard. And then--and then--he -suddenly discovered that I was a woman and not a naughty child, and -he--he--kissed me." She shuddered suddenly and violently. "That's -nearly all," she ended. "I got away from him, heaven knows how. And I -got back to Bunny. I didn't tell him everything, but I couldn't help -him knowing I was upset. We neither of us slept all night. And the -night before was a bad one too. That's how I came to be so idiotic just -now." - -She leaned slowly back in her chair till she rested against the hand he -had laid upon her. - -"Do you know," she said tremulously, after a moment, "I think it has -actually done me good to tell you? You are very kind to me, Jake." - -He withdrew his hand and turned away. "That may be," he said -enigmatically. "And again it may not. Thanks anyway for telling me." -He picked up the horsewhip that he had flung down on entering, and began -with his square, steady fingers to remove the lash. "You are right. -You can't spend another night at 'The Anchor.' If you will allow me, I -will find some comfortable rooms where you and Bunny can stay till we -can get married. I will go up to-morrow and get a special licence. The -marriage might be arranged for Sunday--if that will suit you." - -"Next Sunday?" Maud started round and looked at him with startled eyes. - -He nodded. "In church. After the eight o'clock service if there is -one. Your mother must give you away. Afterwards, we will come on here -with the boy." He glanced round at her. "He shall have this room for -the daytime, and the one over it to sleep in. I'm sorry there are not -two ground-floor rooms for him; but I know how to carry him in comfort. -Of course, if necessary this room could be used as a bedroom as well." - -He threw down the worn lash and went to a drawer for a new one. Maud -still watched him in silence. - -"Does that meet with your approval?" he asked at length. - -"I think you are--more than good," she said, a tremor of feeling in her -voice. - -He kept his eyes lowered over his task. "I am not hustling you too -much?" he enquired. - -She smiled wanly. "I am asking myself if I ought to let you do it," she -said. "It doesn't seem very fair to you." - -"It chances to be the thing I want," said Jake, his fingers still busy. -"And I reckon you won't disappoint me--won't draw back? I can count on -you?" - -She rose, turning fully towards him. "You can certainly count on me," -she said. "But are you really sure you meant it? It isn't going to -spoil your life?" - -Jake stood upright with a jerk. She met the extraordinary brightness of -his eyes with an odd mixture of boldness and reluctance. - -"My girl," he said, in his queer, anomalous drawl, "there ain't a man -anywhere in God's universe who knows what he wants better than I do. If -I didn't want this thing I shouldn't ask for it. See?" He came to her -with the words, and laid one finger on her arm. "Don't you know it's -your friendship I'm after?" he said, with a touch of aggressiveness. -"Why, I've been after it ever since that night I found you down in the -dark alone on the edge of the parade. You were up against it that -night, weren't you? And didn't like me over much for butting in. Do you -know what you made me think of? A forlorn princess of the Middle Ages. -There's a mediaeval flavour about you. I don't know where you keep it. -But it makes me feel mediaeval too." - -She drew back a little, stiffened ever so slightly. Something in her -resented the freedom of his speech. Something rose in swift revolt and -clamoured to be gone. - -He must have seen her gesture, her quick, protesting blush; for he -turned almost instantly and jerked the whip-lash through his fingers, -testing it. - -A fitful gleam of sunshine suddenly pierced the clouds behind him and -shone on his bent head. His hair gleamed like burnished copper. The -tawny glint of it made her think of an animal--a beast of prey, alert, -merciless, primeval. - -She put on her hat. "I must be getting back to Bunny," she said. - -"I am coming with you," said Jake. - -She looked at him sharply. "You will walk?" - -"Yes, I shall walk." - -She pointed with nervous abruptness to the whip he held. "Then you won't -want that." - -Jake smiled, and tested the whip again without speaking. - -Maud waited a moment; then steadily she spoke. "You realized of course, -that when I told you about Mr. Sheppard's behaviour of last night, it -was in strict confidence?" - -Jake squared his broad shoulders. "All right, my girl. It's safe with -me," he said. "There shan't be any scandal." - -Maud was very white, but quite resolute. "Jake," she said, "you are not -to do it." - -He raised his brows. - -"You are not to do it!" she said again, with vehemence. "I mean it! I -mean it! The quarrel is not yours. You are not to make it so." She -paused, and suddenly caught her breath. "Oh, don't look at me like -that! You make me--afraid!" - -Jake turned and tossed the whip down on the window-seat. "You've nothing -to be afraid of," he said rather curtly. "You're making your own -bugbear. P'raps it's natural," he added, with abrupt gentleness. -"You've had a lot to bear lately. There! I've done what you asked. We -had better get back while it's fine." - -He unlocked and opened the door, standing back for her to pass. - -He kept his eyes downcast as she went through, and she knew that it was -in response to her appeal that he did so. She tingled with a burning -embarrassment, which vanished all in a moment as he said: "Say, now, do -you mind if I light my pipe before I follow you? Don't wait! I'll -catch you up." - -And she made her way out into the fleeting sunlight and racing wind with -a strong sense of relief. The pipe was not a particularly aristocratic -feature of Jake's existence, but it was an extremely characteristic one, -and it placed matters on a normal footing at once. Jake was never -disconcerting or formidable when he was smoking a pipe. She consented -to it gladly. - -And Jake turned back into the room with a grim smile on his lips, picked -up a letter from the table, and thrust it deep into the fire. - -After that he lighted his pipe with the charred remnants thereof, and -followed Maud into the open. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE WAY OF ESCAPE - - -The sun shone out again as they went down the hill, and the sea gleamed -below them like a sheet of silver. - -"You like this place?" asked Jake. - -"I could like it," she made answer. - -He smiled. "Then I reckon you shall. Say, does Bunny know about your -coming up here to me?" - -She coloured deeply. "He knew I came, yes. He did not know why." - -Jake was still smiling. "Guess he'll be pleased," he said. He added, -between puffs at his pipe: "We'll make him happy between us. We'll give -him the time of his life." - -She drew a deep breath. Surely no sacrifice was too great for that! - -They passed the church on the hill, and descended the steep road to the -town. - -"There are some rooms I know of along this road," said Jake. "Kept by -the wife of one of our stable-men. Shall we go in and have a look at -'em?" - -She hesitated. "Bunny will wonder where I am." - -He glanced at her. "Well, look here! You leave me to see to it. I'll -fix up something, and then I'll come on after you and we'll get the boy -away." - -She met his look somewhat doubtfully. - -"Why not?" said Jake. - -She answered him with an effort. "You do understand, don't you, that I -couldn't--I can't--accept help from you before--before--our marriage?" - -"Why not?" he said again. "Reckon you mean to stick to your bargain?" - -"Oh, it isn't that," she said painfully. "Of course--of course--I shall -keep my word with you. But I have a little pride left--just a -little--and----" - -"And I'm to humour it, eh?" said Jake. "Well, you shall have it your -own way. But let me do the fixing for you! I know just what you want. -It's only for a few days either." - -He smiled at her, and she yielded. - -But when they separated at length she paused uneasily. "Jake!" - -"Your servant!" said Jake promptly. - -She stretched a nervous hand towards him. "Jake, if you meet--my -step-father, you will not--not----" - -"Most unfortunately I can't," said Jake. He held her hand for a moment, -and let it go. "There! Good-bye! I won't do anything indiscreet, I -promise you. There is too much at stake. Now you get back to Bunny as -quick as you can! I shan't be long after you." - -And Maud went with a feeling at the heart of relief and dread oddly -mingled. She knew that Jake would keep his word. There was a rocklike -strength about him that nothing could ever shake. For good or ill, he -would stick to a bargain, be the price what it might. But she saw him -overriding every obstacle to attain his purpose. He would never flinch -from possible consequences; of that she was certain. What he had said -he would do, that he would do, and no power on earth would divert him -therefrom. - -She shivered suddenly and violently as she walked. The relentless force -of the man had in it an element that was terrible. What had she done? -What had she done? - -She encountered her mother as she mounted the hotel stairs. - -"Oh, my dear, here you are at last!" was her greeting. "I have been so -worried about you. Come into my room!" - -But Maud resisted her. "I must go to Bunny. He has been alone for so -long." - -"No, dear, no! Bunny's all right for the present. I've been to see. -He doesn't want anything. He told me so. Come into my room--just for a -moment, dear child! We can't talk in the passage." - -As Mrs. Sheppard was plainly bent upon talking, Maud concluded she had -something to say; and followed her. - -"Shut the door, my darling! That's right. How white you look this -morning! Dearie, I am more sorry than I can say for what happened last -night. Giles told me about it. But he says he is quite willing now to -let bygones be bygones. So you won't bear malice, darling; will you? Of -course I know he ought not to have done it," with a slightly uneasy -glance at her daughter's rigid face. "I told him so. But he assured me -he only did it for your good, dear. And he seems to think that you were -rather rude to him earlier in the day. He is old-fashioned, you know. -He thinks a whipping clears the air, so to speak. It's better anyhow -than saving up grievance after grievance, isn't it, dear? You'll start -afresh now, and be much better friends. At least it won't be his fault -if you're not. He is quite ready to treat you as his own daughter." - -She paused for breath. - -Maud was standing stiff and cold against the door. "Is that what you -called me in here to say?" she asked. - -Mrs. Sheppard still looked uneasy though she tried to laugh it off. -"Not quite all, dear. But I really should go and make friends with him -if I were you. He isn't a bit angry with you any more. In fact he has -been joking about it, says his arm is so stiff this morning he can -hardly use it. You couldn't possibly keep it up if you heard him." - -"I shall not hear him," said Maud. - -White and proud she faced her mother, and the latter's half-forced -merriment died away. - -"Child, don't look so tragic! What is it? Come, he didn't hurt you so -badly surely! Can't you forgive and forget?" - -"No," Maud said. "I shall never do either. I am going away with Bunny -to-day. And I hope--with all my heart--that I shall never see his face -again." - -"Going away?" Mrs. Sheppard opened startled eyes. "But, Maud----" - -"I am going to marry Jake Bolton," Maud said, her voice very deep and -quiet. "He will take me and Bunny too." - -"Oh, my dear. That man!" Her mother gazed at her in consternation. -"He--he is infinitely rougher than Giles," she said. - -"I know he is rough. But he cares for Bunny. That matters most," said -Maud. "In fact, I believe he likes Bunny best!" - -"My dear, it's you he wants--not Bunny," said Mrs. Sheppard, with a rare -flash of insight. "I saw that at the very beginning of things--at our -wedding-party. He looked at you as if he could devour you." - -Maud put out a quick hand of protest. "Mother, please! That doesn't -prove he cares about me--any more than I care for him. It--it's just -the way with men of his sort. He--he has been very kind, and he is -genuinely fond of Bunny, and--and--in fact it's the only thing to be -done. I can't--possibly--stay here any longer." - -Her lip quivered unexpectedly. She turned to go. But her mother -intercepted her quickly, endearingly. - -"Maud, darling, wait a minute! I haven't finished. You took my breath -away. But listen a moment! This sacrifice won't be necessary, I am -sure, I am sure. You couldn't marry that horsey creature. You would -never bear life with him. You are not adaptable enough nor experienced -enough. You could never endure it. It would be infinitely worse than -poor Giles and his tantrums. No, but listen, dear! If you really feel -you must go, I think a way of escape is going to be offered to you and -poor little Bunny too. I have had a letter from your Uncle Edward, and -he is coming expressly to see you both." - -"Mother!" Maud almost tore herself free, gazing at her with that in her -eyes that was to haunt Mrs. Sheppard for many days. "Oh, why, why, why -didn't you tell me before? When did the letter come?" - -"It was last night, darling. You were such a long way off--right at the -top of the house--and I was too tired to go after you--I meant to tell -you first thing, dear; but when I went to look for you after breakfast, -you had gone. I am very sorry, but really it wasn't my fault. Still, -you won't want to marry that vulgar person now, for I am sure your uncle -means to make provision for you. He can well afford it. He is very -wealthy." - -But Maud resolutely put her mother's clinging arms away from her. "Jake -is not vulgar," she said in a voice that sounded flat and tired. "And I -have promised to marry him. Nothing can make any difference to that -now." - -"My dear! What nonsense! I will get Giles to talk to him. How can you -dream of such a thing, you who might have married Lord Saltash--and may -yet! There is no knowing. Maud, dearest, you must be reasonable. You -must indeed. This Jake Bolton may be a very excellent man, a very -worthy man, but as a husband for you he would be utterly unsuitable. -Surely you can see that for yourself! I can't imagine what possessed you -to entertain such an idea for a moment. It was rank presumption on his -part to dare to lift his eyes to you. Why, my dear, if you were to -marry him your life would be an absolute thraldom. You mustn't think of -it, dear child. You mustn't indeed. Why, he is not much better than a -stable-boy. And his speech----" - -"He has spent a good deal of his time among cowboys." Maud was still -firmly trying to disengage herself. "His speech is more or less -acquired. In any case--in any case--I have given him my promise. And -you had better not let Mr. Sheppard interfere. It would be wise of him -to keep out of Jake's way in fact. Jake knows exactly why I am prepared -to marry him." - -"My dear! You actually made a confidant of that dreadful person! How -could you?" - -"I wanted a man to protect me," Maud said very bitterly, "from the -vindictive savagery of a brute!" - -"Maud! How can you talk so? And I am sure Jake Bolton is much more of -a brute than poor Giles. Why, look at the man! Look at his mouth, his -eyes! They absolutely stamp him. Oh, dear, you're very headstrong and -difficult. I begin to think Giles had some excuse after all. Perhaps -your uncle will be able to manage you. You are quite beyond me." - -Maud almost laughed. "When does he arrive?" she asked. - -"This evening. He has asked us to reserve a room for him." Mrs. -Sheppard had speedily developed a proprietary interest in the management -of the hotel. Its welfare had become far more engrossing than that of -her children. - -Maud opened the door. "We shall be gone by that time. Jake's finding us -rooms somewhere in the town." - -Mrs. Sheppard held up her hands. "Jake finding rooms! Maud! -how--scandalous! How do you know--you don't know!--that he is to be -trusted?" - -Maud made a brief gesture as of one who submits to the inevitable. "I -trust him," she said, with that in her voice that stilled all further -protest. - -And with the words she passed with finality out of her mother's room, -and went away upstairs without a backward glance. - -Mrs. Sheppard sat down and shed a few petulant tears over her child's -waywardness. "She never would listen to advice," was the burden of her -lament. "If she had, she would have been happily married to Lord -Saltash by now, and I might have had my house in London to-day. Oh -dear, oh dear! Children are a bitter disappointment. They never can be -made to see what is for their own good. She'll rue the day. I know she -will. That trainer man has a will of iron. He'll break her to it like -one of his horses. My poor, proud Maud!" - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - THE CLOSED DOOR - - -A way of escape! A way of escape! How often during the hours of that -endless day were those words in Maud's mind. They pursued her, they -mocked her, whichever way she turned. - -To Jake she merely very briefly imparted the news of her uncle's -expected advent, and he received it without comment. - -Bunny was much more speculative. He had been somewhat carried out of -himself by the trend of events. It was Jake who whispered to him the -amazing information of his sudden conquest, together with a very -strenuous injunction not to talk to Maud about it unless she started the -subject. And Maud, for some reason, could not start it. She went -through all the necessary arrangements for their removal as one in a -dream, scarcely speaking at all, responding very occasionally to Bunny's -eager surmises respecting the unknown great-uncle who had never before -taken the faintest interest in them, or shown himself so much as aware -of their existence. His coming did not seem to matter to her. If -indeed he were about to offer her a way of escape, it could not matter -to her now. The door that led thither had closed, closed in the night, -because her mother had been too tired to seek her out and tell her. The -irony of it! The bitter cruel irony! She dared not pause to think. - -Jake spent a great part of the day with them, working with a will to get -them comfortably settled in their new quarters before the fall of the -early dusk. After that, he remained to tea; but he devoted almost the -whole of his attention to Bunny, who had in fact come to regard it as -his right. - -He left soon after, refusing to remain for the game of chess for which -the lad earnestly pleaded. - -"Not to-night, my son! Your brain has got to settle down. It's a deal -too lively at present." - -He bent over Bunny at parting, and whispered a few words that were -inaudible to Maud. Then he turned to go. - -She followed him to the outer door. The evening air smote chill and -salt upon her, and she shivered involuntarily. Jake stopped to light a -cigarette. - -"I shan't be coming round to-morrow," he remarked then. "I shall be too -busy. But I'll look in on Saturday, and tell you what I've fixed up. -Will Sunday morning do all right if I can fix it?" - -She shivered again. "Yes," she said. - -"Say, you're cold," said Jake gently. "I mustn't keep you standing -here. But you really meant that Yes?" - -He looked at her, and she saw that his eyes were kindly. She held out -her hand with a desperate little smile. - -"Yes, I meant it." - -His hand closed strongly, sustainingly, upon hers. "Guess there's -nothing to be scared of," he said. "I'll take care of you, sure." - -She felt a sudden lump rise in her throat, and found she could not -speak. - -"You're tired," said Jake softly. "Go and get a good night! It's what -you're wanting." - -"Yes, I am tired," she managed to say. - -He still held her hand, looking at her with those strange, glittering -eyes of his that seemed to pierce straight through all reserve and enter -even the hidden inner sanctuary of her soul. - -"What's this relative of yours like now?" he asked unexpectedly. - -She shook her head. "I don't know. I've never seen him." - -"Think he's coming along to offer you a home?" asked Jake. - -Her face burned suddenly and hotly. For some reason she resented the -question. "I don't know. How can I possibly know?" - -"All right," said Jake imperturbably. "But in case he does, I'd like -you to know that you are at liberty to do as you please in the matter. -He'll tell you, maybe, that I'm not the man for you. That, I gather, is -your mother's attitude. I sensed it from the beginning. If he does, -and if you feel inclined to agree with him, you're free to do so,--free -as air. But at the same time, I'd like you to remember that if you -should accept anything from him and then not find it to your liking, you -can still come along to me and follow out the original programme. I'm -only wanting to make you comfortable." - -He stopped; and in the pause that followed, Maud's other hand came out -to him, shyly yet impulsively. "You are--such a good fellow!" she said -with a catch in her voice. - -"Oh, bunkum!" said Jake, in a tone of almost indignant remonstrance. - -He held her two hands, and turning, spat forth his cigarette into the -night; an action of primitive simplicity that filled Maud with a -grotesque kind of horrified mirth, mirth so intense that she had a -sudden, hysterical desire to laugh. She restrained herself with a -desperate effort. - -"Good night!" she said, with something of urgency in her voice. "It -isn't bunkum at all. It's the truth. You--I think you are the best -friend I ever had. But--but----" - -"But--" said Jake. - -She freed her hands with a little gasp. "Nothing," she said. "Good -night!" - -It was a final dismissal, and as such he accepted it. She heard the -steady fall of his feet as he went away, and with his going she managed -to recover her composure. - -There was an undeniable greatness about him that seemed to dwarf all -criticism. She realized that to measure him by ordinary standards was -out of the question, and as she reviewed all that he had done for her -that day a gradual warmth began to glow in her. There was no other -friend in all her world who would have extended to her so firm or so -comforting a support in her hour of adversity. And if her face burned -at the memory of her own utter collapse in his presence, she could but -recall with gratitude and with confidence the steadfast kindness with -which he had upheld her. She had gone to him in anguished despair, and -he had offered her the utmost that he had to offer. As to his motives -for so doing, she had a feeling that he had deliberately refrained from -expressing them. He wanted her and he wanted Bunny. Perhaps he was -lonely. Perhaps years of wandering had created in him a longing for -home and domestic comfort. - -But she did not speculate very deeply upon that subject. She felt that -she could not. There was something in the man's nature, something -colossal of which she was but dimly aware, and which she had no means of -gauging, that checked her almost at the outset. She found herself -standing before a closed door, a door which she had neither the audacity -nor the desire to attempt to open. She was even a little fearful lest -one day that door should open to her of its own accord and she should be -constrained to enter whether she would or not. - -But on the whole that talk with Jake had calmed her. The man was so -temperate, so completely master of himself, and withal so staunch in the -friendship he had established with her, that she could not but feel -reassured. There was a delicacy in his consideration for her that -warmed her heart. She knew by every instinct of her being that he would -take care of her as he had promised. And she wanted someone to take -care of her so badly, so badly. - -She was so deadly tired of fending for herself. - -She found Bunny in a mood of remarkable docility, and she managed to get -him to bed without much trouble. He also was worn out after two nights -of restlessness, and he fell asleep earlier than usual. - -She herself sat for awhile in the little sitting-room with a book, but -she found she could not read. She was too tired to fix her attention, -and the thought of Jake kept intruding itself whenever she attempted to -do so. It was wonderful how she had come to rely upon him, knowing so -little of him. He had always been far more to Bunny than to her. - -She was drifting into a kind of semi-doze, still with the memory of him -passing and repassing through her brain, when there came the sound of a -bell in the house, and almost immediately after, the opening of the -sitting-room door. - -She started up in surprise to see her landlady usher in a little, spare -grey-whiskered man who walked with a strut and cleared his throat as he -came with a noise like the growling of a dog. He made her think -irresistibly of a Scotch terrier bristling for a fight. - -He halted in the middle of the room, and banged with his umbrella on the -floor, as one demanding a hearing. - -"Hullo!" he said. "My name's Warren. You, I take it, are Maud Brian. -If so, I'm your Uncle Edward." - -Maud came forward, still feeling a little dazed. Since Jake's departure -she had almost forgotten the approaching advent of this relative of -hers. - -"How do you do?" she said. "Yes, I am Maud Brian. Come and sit down!" - -He took her hand, looking at her with small grey eyes that were keenly -critical. - -"How old are you?" he demanded. - -"I am twenty-five," said Maud, faintly smiling. - -He uttered a grunting growl and sat down with a jerk. "I've come -straight from your mother to talk to you. She's a fool, always was. I -hope you're not another." - -"Thank you," said Maud sedately. - -He brought his shaggy grey brows together. "I've come the length of -England to see you, but I haven't any time to waste. I'm going back -to-morrow. That letter of yours--I meant to answer it, but business -pressed, and it had to stand over. Then I decided to come and see what -sort of young woman you were before I did anything further. I couldn't -stand a replica of your mother in my house. But--thank goodness--you're -not much like her. She tells me you're thinking of making a marriage of -convenience to get away from your step-father. Now, that's a very -serious step for a young woman to contemplate. It seems to me I've -turned up in the nick of time." - -Maud, sitting facing him with her hands folded in her lap, still faintly -smiled. The bluntness with which he tackled the situation appealed more -to her sense of humour than to any other emotion. She realized that he -was actually about to offer her a way of escape, but, curiously, she no -longer felt any desire to avail herself of it. By his generous -assurance that she was at liberty to do as she would, Jake had somehow -managed to range her on his side. She did not want to escape any more. -Moreover, there was Bunny to be thought of. She knew well in what -direction his desires--and his welfare also--lay. - -"It was very kind of you to come," she said. "But, as regards my -marriage, my mind is quite made up. He--the man I am going to -marry--understands everything. I have been quite open with him. He has -been most kind, most generous. I could not think of drawing back now." - -"Pshaw!" said Mr. Warren. He sat forward in his chair, his hands -gripping the knob of his umbrella and surveyed her with growing -disapproval. "You're prepared to sell yourself to a man you don't love -in return for a home, hey?" he asked. - -She winced sharply, and in a moment her tired young face was flooded -with colour. "Certainly not!" she said, her voice very low. "Most -certainly not!" - -"Looks uncommonly like it," he maintained. - -"It is not so!" she said, with low-toned vehemence. "I have told -you--he--understands." - -"And is prepared to give all and receive nothing for his pains?" pursued -the old man relentlessly. "If so, he's a very remarkable young man; and -let me tell you for your comfort, it's an attitude he won't keep up for -long, not--that is--unless he's a blithering idiot? Is he an idiot?" - -Maud almost laughed. "No, that he is not! But really--really--you are -wasting your time. If you had come this time yesterday, I would have -listened to you. To-night it is impossible." - -"Why impossible?" - -"Because I have promised." - -"Tut! tut! He must release you." - -"He would release me," Maud said slowly. "That is just it." - -"Just what? Talk sense if you can!" It was evident that patience was -not Uncle Edward's strong point. He fidgeted his umbrella testily. - -She looked at him with her clear, straight eyes. "That is just why I -will not ask for my release. In fact, I--don't want it." - -"Don't want it! Then, young woman, you're in love with him. I've come -on a fool's errand, and I'll wish you good night." - -He was on his feet with the words. Maud rose too. She laid a hand of -half-timid restraint upon his arm. - -"I am not--in love with him, Uncle Edward," she said, her voice not -wholly steady. "Such a thing would be impossible. But at the same -time--though I can't give him everything--he shall not repent his -bargain. We are going to be--friends." - -"Pshaw!" said Uncle Edward again. He gripped her hand unexpectedly, -staring up at her with his keen eyes. "Do you know how old I am?" he -said. - -She shook her head. - -"I'm eighty," he said. "I've seen a little of men in my time, and I've -been a man myself. So let me tell you this! There's not a man on this -earth who could be satisfied for long with that kind of farce. You've -got him on the leash now. He's tame and good. But there's a ravening -wolf inside us all, my dear, when we're thwarted, and the longer we're -thwarted the more savage we get. You can't bring up a wolf--not the -tamest wolf in the world--on bread and butter. Sooner or later he'll -begin to feel a bit empty, and whine for the real thing. And if you -still go on starving the brute till he's famished, he'll either break -away and go elsewhere for food, or else he'll round on you one day and -tear you in pieces. You'll be the sufferer either way. It's nature I -tell you, it's nature. You'll have to give all or drive him away at the -outset. There can't be half-measures with a man who is a man. If you -offer them you must expect trouble. And remember, it's always the woman -who pays in the end,--always the woman who pays." - -He repeated the words with the impressiveness of a judge pronouncing -sentence. - -Maud was trembling, though she tried to conceal the fact. "And then -there is Bunny to be thought of," she said. - -"Bunny? Who is Bunny? Oh, your brother, is it? And he's a hopeless -cripple, I understand? Is it for his sake that you've hatched this mad -scheme?" - -"In a great measure. You see, he and--and Jake Bolton are very fond of -one another." - -"Pshaw!" the old man exclaimed. "So this Jake Bolton is to have the -boy, with you thrown in as a makeweight; is that it? And you think -you're all going to be happy together, do you? Never heard such a -tomfool scheme in my life. Where does this Jake Bolton hang out? I'll -go and have a talk to him." - -"Oh, please don't!" Maud begged. "He'll think I sent you. And -really--really there is nothing to discuss." - -"We'll see about that," he rejoined grimly. "Seems to me it's high time -somebody came along and interfered. Now, look here, what's your -name?--Maud! I'm going to get you out of this mess. You shan't marry a -man you don't love just because there was no other way out. There is -another way out, and you're to take it. You're to come and live with -me, do you hear? You and your precious Bunny too! And when I die, I'll -leave you both provided for. See? Come, I can't say fairer than that." - -He was still gripping her hand, and looking at her with shrewd eyes -under their beetling brows as though prepared to beat down all -opposition. There was a look of Bunny about those eyes, Bunny in a -difficult mood. She recognized it with a sigh. It seemed her fate to -be continually doing battle with someone, and she felt wholly unfitted -for it. All she asked of life was peace and quietness. - -"My home is a dingy one," said her uncle, "but you may be able to make -it more cheerful. I shan't interfere with either of you. Come, now, -you're going to be a sensible girl, hey? I'm sorry I didn't turn up -before. But the knot isn't tied, so I'm not too late. We must explain -the situation to the young man. Unless he's an absolute bounder, he'll -be amenable to reason." - -But Maud shook her head. "I can't do it, Uncle Edward. I know you mean -to be kind. I am very grateful. But--I can't." - -He rasped his throat aggressively. "That's nonsense," he said with -decision. "Plainly the man is beneath you. You say you don't love him, -and never could." - -"I am not--altogether--sure that he is beneath me," she said rather -wistfully. - -"But you don't love him?" her uncle insisted, scanning her piercingly. - -She bent her head with an instinctive desire to avoid his eyes. "No." - -"Or anyone else?" he pursued. - -She made a small movement of protest. - -"Ha!" he exclaimed, in the tone of one who has discovered something. -"Your mother hinted as much. And you think you're going to make things -better for yourself by marriage with a rank outsider. Is that it? Is -that it? Then take my word for it, you're going to make the biggest -mistake of your life. And if you persist in it, I've done with you. At -least, no, I haven't done; for I'm going straight to that young man of -yours to tell him the sort of bargain he's going to make." - -He paused, for suddenly Maud had drawn herself up very straight and -proud. "If you wish to do so, you must," she said, and her pale face -was very regal and composed. "But it will not make the smallest -difference to either of us. Jake has my promise. I have his." - -It was at this point that the door opened again to admit the landlady -with a note on a salver. - -"Mr. Bolton's compliments," she said, "and will you be good enough to -send back an answer?" - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - THE CHAMPION - - -Maud took the note with a glance at her uncle. - -"Open it!" he said. "Don't mind me!" and stumped irately to the -bay-window and pulled aside the blind. - -Maud opened the note. Her hands were not very steady. The envelope -contained a half-sheet of notepaper with a few words scrawled thereupon, -and a short length of string. - -"Sorry to trouble you," ran the note. "But will you tie a knot in the -enclosed to show me the size of your wedding finger? Yours, Jake." - -She looked up from the note as her uncle came tramping back. "Is it the -young man himself?" he demanded. - -"It's Mr. Bolton, sir," said the landlady. - -"Then show him in!" ordered the old man autocratically. "Show him in, -and we'll get it over! No time like the present." - -A swift remonstrance rose to Maud's lips, but she did not utter it. The -landlady looked to her for confirmation of the order, but she did not -utter a single word. - -"Get along!" commanded Uncle Edward. "Or I'll fetch him in myself!" - -A whiff of tobacco-smoke came in through the open door. Maud stood very -still, listening. A moment later there came the sound of a pipe being -tapped on the heel of a boot, and then the firm, quiet tread of Jake's -feet in the passage. - -He entered. "I didn't mean to disturb you again, but I'd forgotten this -little detail and I've got to catch an early train." He turned with no -sign of surprise and regarded Maud's visitor. "Good evening, sir!" he -said. - -Mr. Warren gave him a brief nod. Maud still stood mute, Jake's note -with the piece of string dangling therefrom in her hand. - -He went quietly to her. "Say! Let me fix that for you!" he said. - -She suffered him to take her hand. It lay cold and quivering in his. -He wound the string round her third finger and knotted it. Then he -slipped it off, and took the hand closely and warmly into his own. - -"I hope you haven't come to forbid the banns," he said, calmly returning -the grim scrutiny that the old man had levelled at him from the moment -of his entrance. - -Uncle Edward uttered a sound indicative of intense disgust. "I? Oh, -I've no authority," he said. "I disapprove--if that's what you mean. -Any decent person would disapprove of the sort of alliance you two are -determined to make. But I don't expect my opinion to be deferred to. If -you choose to marry a woman who doesn't care two straws about you, it's -your affair, not mine." - -Jake turned in his deliberate fashion to Maud. "Your uncle, I presume?" -he said. - -"Yes," she made answer. - -His face wore a smile that baffled her, as he said: "It's my opinion -that we should get on better alone together, though it's for you to -decide." - -She looked at him rather piteously, and as if in answer to that look -Jake slipped a steady arm about her. - -"What about the head of the family?" he said, speaking softly almost as -if to a child. "Reckon he'll be wanting you. Won't you go to him?" - -The slight pressure of his arm directed her towards the door. She -yielded to it instinctively, with an abrupt feeling that the matter had -been taken out of her hands. - -He went with her into the passage, and they stood for a moment together -under the flickering lamp. - -"Bunny in bed?" he asked. - -"Yes," she said. - -He was still faintly smiling. "You go to bed too, my girl!" he said. -"I'll settle this old firebrand." - -"Don't--quarrel with him, Jake!" she said nervously. - -"What should I quarrel about?" said Jake. "Good night, forlorn -princess!" - -His voice had a note in it that was almost motherly. She went, from him -with a distinct sense of comfort. His touch had been so strong and -withal so gentle. - -As for Jake, he turned back into the room with the utmost confidence and -shut himself in with an air of decision. - -"Now, sir," he said, "if you've any complaint to make, p'raps you'll be -good enough to mention it to me right now, and I'll deal with the same. -I'm not going to have my girl bullied any more." - -His voice was quiet, even slightly drawling, but his eyes shone with -something of a glare. He came straight to the old man, who still leaned -on his umbrella, and stood before him. - -The latter gazed at him ferociously, and for a space they remained thus, -stubbornly fixing each other. Then abruptly the old man spoke. - -"You're very masterful, young fellow-my-lad. I suppose you think -yourself one of the lords of creation, good enough for anybody, hey?" - -Jake's stern face relaxed slowly. "I don't claim to be a prince of the -blood," he said, "but I reckon I've got some--points." - -"And you reckon you're good enough to marry my niece?" snapped Uncle -Edward. - -Jake squared his shoulders. "I shall make her a better husband than -some," he said. - -The old man smote the floor with his umbrella. "Shall you? And has she -told you that she's in love with another man?" - -Jake's right hand went suddenly deep into his pocket and remained there. -"I am aware that she was once," he said, speaking very deliberately. -"But that is over. Also, he was not the man for her." - -"A scoundrel, hey? Not a sound man like yourself?" There was a -malicious note in the query, but Jake ignored it. - -"He does not count anyway," he said, with finality. "If he did, your -niece wouldn't have come to me for protection. I believe she appealed -to you first, but you had more important things to attend to. With me -it was otherwise, and so I consider that I have a greater right to be -her protector than anyone else in the world." - -"Do you?" said Uncle Edward. "That means you're in love with her, I -suppose?" - -Jake's eyes fenced with his. "You may take it to mean that if it -pleases you to do so," he said. - -The old man raked his throat pugnaciously. "It's damn' presumption. I -tell you that," he said. - -"That may be," said Jake, unmoved. - -"But it doesn't alter your intentions, hey? You're one of the cussed -sort, I can see. Well, look here, young man! I'll make you a proposal. -You seem to think I've neglected my duty, though heaven knows these -Brians have no claims on me. But I've taken a fancy to the girl. She's -gentle, which is more than can be said for most of your modern young -women. So you just listen to me for a minute! You're on a wrong tack -altogether. Courting should come before marriage, not after. You may -marry first and you may think for a time that all is going to be well -between you, but there'll come a day when you'll wake up and find that -in spite of all you haven't won her. And that'll mean misery for you -both. Don't you do it, young man! You'll find the game's not worth the -candle. You have a little patience! Let the girl come to me for a bit! -I may be old, but I'll protect her. And if you care to come after her, -and do a little courting now and then, well--it's not a very brilliant -match for her, but I shan't forbid it." - -He ceased to speak. There seemed to be a smile in the eyes that watched -him, but there was no suggestion of it about Jake's mouth, which was -slightly compressed. - -"That's all very well, sir," he said in his slow quiet way. "But have -you laid this proposal of yours before Miss Brian herself?" - -Uncle Edward made a sound of impatience. "She can think of no one but -her brother. She'll agree fast enough when she realizes that it's the -only thing to do." - -"Will she?" said Jake. "And have you put it to her in that light?" - -The old man coughed and made no reply. - -Jake went on with the utmost composure. "You offer her a home where she -can continue to be a slave to her brother. You don't propose to lift -the burden at all, to ease her life, to make her happy. You wouldn't -know where to begin. You are ready and anxious to deliver her from me. -But there your goodness starts and finishes. You talk of my damnable -presumption." A ruddy glitter like the flicker of a flame dispelled the -hint of humour from the lynx-like eyes. "That is just your point of -view. But I reckon I'm nearer to her--several lengths nearer--than you -or any other man. She hasn't brought all her troubles to you and cried -her heart out in your arms, has she? No,--nor ever will--now! You've -come too late, sir,--too late by just twelve hours! You may keep your -money and your home to yourself! The girl is mine." - -A deep note suddenly sounded in the man's voice, and Uncle Edward was -abruptly made aware of a lion in his path. - -He backed at once. He had not the smallest desire for an encounter with -the savage beast. - -"Tut, tut!" he said. "You talk like a Red Indian. I wasn't proposing -to deprive you of her; only to give the girl a free hand and you the -chance of winning her. If you take her without, there'll be the devil -to pay sooner or later; I can tell you that. But, if you won't take the -chance I offer, that's your affair entirely. I have no more to say." - -"I am taking a different sort of chance," Jake said. "And I have a -suspicion that it's less of a gamble than the one you suggest. In any -case, I've put my money on it, and there it'll stay." - -He looked Uncle Edward straight in the eyes a moment, and then broke -into his sudden, disarming smile. - -"Can't you stop over the week-end now and give her away?" he asked -persuasively. "Her mother seems to shy at the notion." - -"Her mother always was a fool," said Uncle Edward irascibly. Here at -least was a safe object upon which to vent his indignation! "The -biggest fool that ever lived! What on earth men found to like in her I -never could understand. Oh yes, I'll give the girl away. If you're so -set on getting married at once, I'd better stop and see that it's done -properly. Lucy never did anything properly in her life." - -"Thank you," said Jake. "You are most kind--and considerate." - -"Mark you, that doesn't mean that I approve," warned the old man. "It's -a hare-brained scheme altogether, but I suppose I owe it to my family to -see that it's done on the square." - -Jake had suddenly become extremely suave. "That is very benevolent of -you, sir," he said. - -"I regard it as my duty," said Uncle Edward gruffly. - -He had never been called benevolent before, and the term was not -altogether to his liking. It seemed safer to accept it, however, -without question. There was an unknown element about this young man -that was in some fashion formidable. An odd respect mingled with his -first contempt. The fellow might be a bounder,--he was not absolutely -decided upon that head--but, as he himself had modestly stated, he had -some points. By marrying him, his young niece was about to commit a -very rash act, but it was possible--just possible--that it might not -lead to utter disaster. It was not a marriage of which he could -approve, but the man seemed solid, and certainly he himself had no -urgent desire to take in the girl and her cripple brother. Altogether, -though he did not like to think that his advice had been ignored, and -though at the back of his mind there lurked a vague uneasiness not -unmixed with self-reproach, it seemed that matters might have been -considerably worse. - -"Don't you tyrannize over her now!" he said to Jake at parting. "You've -got a fighting face, young fellow-my-lad. But you bear in mind, she's a -woman, and--unless I am much mistaken--she is not the sort to stand it." - -"I don't fight with women, sir," said Jake somewhat curtly. "I've other -things to do." - -Uncle Edward smiled a dry smile. "And you've a few things to -learn--yet," he remarked enigmatically. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - THE WEDDING MORNING - - -It was very dark and draughty in the church. Maud was shivering from -head to foot. Her heart felt as if it were encased in ice. Now and -then it beat a little, feebly, as if trying to break free, but the awful -cold was too much for it. She did not know how to keep her teeth from -chattering. Her hands lay in her lap, numbed and nerveless. She -wondered if she would ever manage to walk as far as the dimly lit altar -where Jake would be awaiting her. - -It was evidently draughty there also. The candles flickered fitfully. -Uncle Edward was eyeing the candles with obvious disapproval. She hoped -he would manage to suppress it at close quarters. She was sure she -would have to laugh if he didn't, and laughter, she felt, would be -fatal. - -How different this from the wedding-day which once she had dared to -picture for herself! It was like a mocking fantasy, a dreadful travesty -of that which might have been. Like an arc of prismatic colours it hung -before her--the vision of that other wedding--the wedding of her dreams; -the sunshine and the laughter and the flowers! The shining altar, the -waiting bridegroom, his flashing smile of welcome! She saw it all--she -saw it all! - -How dear he had been to her! How, unutterably dear! And she remembered -how in those far-off days he had always called her his Queen Rose. - -Her heart gave a swift throb that was anguish. She stood up with a -quick, involuntary movement. She had not dreamed that this long-past -trouble possessed the power to hurt her so. She cast a desperate glance -around her. This waiting in the cold and the dark had become -intolerable. A wild impulse to flee--to flee--was upon her. The door -was quite near. She turned towards it. - -But in that moment Uncle Edward cleared his throat and rose. - -"Here comes your precious bridegroom!" he said. "I suppose they're -ready at last. We had better get moving." - -And then it was that Maud's knees abruptly refused to support her, and -she sank down again white and powerless on the chair by the door. - -Jake's sturdy figure was coming down the aisle. She watched it with -eyes that were wide and fixed. - -He came straight to her, bent over her. "I'm real sorry you've been -kept waiting," he said, in his womanly drawl. "It's the parson's doing. -He forgot all about us. And there was no fire either. I had to force -the door of the stoke shed to light it." - -He bent a little lower over her, and suddenly she felt his hand against -the icy cold of her cheek. She started back from it. - -"Jake, I--can't come yet. I'm so cold." Stiffly her pale lips -whispered the words; her whole body seemed bound in a very rigour of -cold. And through it all she still thought she could hear phantom -echoes of that other wedding that once had seemed so near. - -"Where is your mother?" said Jake. - -There was a hint of sternness in the question. Uncle Edward answered -it. - -"I'm expecting them every minute. I drove up first to fetch Maud. Lucy -is a hopeless fool. She's never in time for anything." - -Even as he spoke, there came the rush of wheels on the hard road outside -and the hoot of a motor horn. - -The sound as it reached Maud, seemed to galvanize her into sudden -energy. She rose, white to the lips but resolute. "I am ready," she -said. - -Jake gave her a straight, hard look, and turned without another word. -He went back up the aisle, square, purposeful, steady, and took up his -stand by the waiting clergyman. - -Maud's hand pressed her uncle's arm with urgency. "Let us go! Let us -go!" she said. "I can see my mother--afterwards." - -The old man also gave her a shrewd glance, but he also said no word. -Only as he stumped up the aisle beside her, he took the girlish hand -upon his arm and held it hard in his gnarled fingers. - -They had reached the chancel steps where the clergyman awaited them ere -the opening of the door and the sound of fluttering feet announced the -arrival of Maud's mother. A heavier tread and a man's loud whisper and -barely muffled laugh testified to the presence of Giles Sheppard also. - -Uncle Edward cleared his throat ferociously, releasing Maud's hand with -a mighty squeeze as Jake came to her side. Then he turned with -deliberation and scowled upon the advancing couple. - -Maud did not turn. Her face was white and still as the face of a marble -statue. Her eyes stared blankly at the flickering candles on the altar. -Had Jake lighted those candles, she wondered, as well as the fire in the -stoke shed? - -She heard her mother's step behind her, but still she did not move; and -after the briefest pause the clergyman began to read the service. - -It was all horribly unreal. The only thing of which she was vividly and -poignantly conscious was the cold. She heard Jake's voice beside her, -very calm and steady, and when her turn came she spoke with equal -steadiness, for somehow she seemed to be imbued with his strength. But -she was too frozen, too ice-bound, to feel any meaning in the words she -uttered. She spoke them like an automaton, through lips that would -scarcely move. - -Jake's hand, warm and purposeful, holding her own, sent a faint, faint -glow through her; but it did not reach her heart. She thought it had -ceased to beat long ago, and she wondered how soon he would realize that -he was wedded to a dead woman, what he would say when he knew. For Jake -was so essentially full-blooded, so burningly alive. He was the most -virile person she had ever met. Standing there by his side, she could -feel the warmth of him. She thought it was that alone that kept her -from turning into a solid block of ice. - -When she knelt, his hand came under her elbow and supported her; when -she rose, it lifted her. When the dreadful nightmare service was over -at last, his arm was round her, and by its aid alone she stumbled -stiffly to the vestry. - -The young curate who had married them looked at her with nervous -solicitude. He had been recently married himself, and he had a -painfully vivid memory of the agonies thereof. - -He set a chair for her, and Jake put her down into it. Then he stood up -and took command of the situation. - -"Get a glass from somewhere!" he said to the curate. "And you, sir," he -turned upon Uncle Edward, "don't let that man come in here! Her mother -can if she likes, but I won't have anyone else." - -He stooped over Maud, looking closely into her deathlike face. He took -her frozen hands and held them up to his lips, breathing on them. - -Her great eyes gazed up at him in mute apology. She felt he had begun -to find out. - -"It's all right, my girl," he said in answer, "all right." - -And then her mother came to her, and surprised Maud at least by folding -her close in her arms and fondly kissing her poor numbed lips. - -"Why, Maudie, darling," she murmured to her tenderly as though she were -a child again, "what is it, dearie? What is it?" - -The words, the embrace, moved Maud, piercing straight to her frozen -heart. She turned with a passionate, inarticulate sound and hid her -face on her mother's breast. - -"My precious! My own girlie!" said Mrs. Sheppard; and gathered her -closer still. - -There followed a brief, brief interval of peace while she rested in the -sheltering arms that had not held her since her babyhood. Then she -heard Jake's voice close to her bowed head. - -"Maud, I want you to drink this." - -She stirred uneasily, and was aware of her mother's tears dropping on -her face. - -Then again came Jake's voice, quite courteous but extremely decided. "I -am afraid I must trouble you, Mrs. Sheppard. She is half-dead with -cold." - -Mrs. Sheppard gave a little sob and relaxed her hold. "Maud--my darling, -here is some brandy and water. Will you try and drink it? Mother will -hold the glass." - -But it was Jake's hand that held it, guiding it steadily to the cold, -blue lips; and it was in response to his insistence, and not of her own -volition at all, that Maud drank the fiery mixture he had prepared. - -She shuddered over it, but it revived her almost immediately. She felt -the blood begin to stir in her veins, her heart begin to beat. - -"That's right," said Jake, and she saw his smile for the first time that -wintry morning and felt the better for it. "Now, sit quiet for a minute -or two till you feel well enough to sign the register! Mrs. Sheppard, I -think your husband wants to speak to you." - -"Oh, dear!" sobbed Mrs. Sheppard. "He's always wanting something." - -Maud gently released herself. "You had better go to him, Mother, dear. -You can bring him in if you like. I am quite all right now." - -Her eyes met Jake's as her mother tearfully departed. Something like a -glance of intimacy passed between them. She held out her hand to him, -and he took it and held it, so that some of his abundant strength seemed -to communicate itself to her. - -"I don't want your mother to upset you," he said. - -She dismissed the notion with a smile. "I am quite ready to sign now. -Let us get it over, shall we? I want to go back to Bunny." - -His hand relinquished hers. He turned to the table. "The sooner the -better," he said, in a tone of cool deliberation. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - THE WEDDING NIGHT - - -It was over. Maud sat before the open fireplace in Jake's oak-panelled -parlour, gazing into the red heart of the fire with a stunned sense of -finality, a feeling that she had been overtaken and made prisoner by -Fate. She was terribly tired. Every limb seemed weighted as if with -iron fetters. She longed with a sick longing for sleep and oblivion. -She ached for solitude and repose. - -Overhead she could hear Jake moving. He was helping Bunny to prepare -for the night, by Bunny's own decree. Very soon he would come down -again, and she would have to rouse herself and make conversation. She -wondered wearily how she would do it. - -The best room in the house had been given to Bunny. Out of it led a -smaller room in which she could sleep and be within call when he needed -her. Jake had made every provision he could think of for their comfort. -She felt that she ought to be very grateful to him; but somehow she was -too tired for gratitude. And she could not concentrate her thoughts; -they wandered so. - -Now it was the glint of the firelight on her wedding-ring that drew -them. It shone with a burning, intolerable sparkle that somehow -reminded her of Jake--and the look in his eyes when he had said-- But -she pulled her mind up short at this point, with a sharp, involuntary -shiver. She would not dwell on that thought. She would bury it deep; -deep, far below all others. For she knew she would never cast it out. - -She clenched her hand and covered the ring from sight. - -The thought of Uncle Edward presented itself, and she seized upon it -with relief. He had been with them during the greater part of the day, -and had left but an hour before to catch the night train to town. He -had been very kind to her, and had taken a shrewd interest in Bunny. -Just at parting he had drawn her aside for a moment, looking at her with -his sharp eyes under their shaggy brows with just the look of a terrier -on the hunt. - -"And if at any time you should be in need of a change of air, my dear," -he had said, "don't forget that you've got an old uncle at Liverpool who -wouldn't be sorry to see you--and the boy too--however busy he happened -to be." - -He had meant that as an offer of help, should she ever stand in need of -it. She had recognized that, though neither he nor she had emphasized -the fact. He foresaw a possibility of difficulties ahead with which she -might be unable to cope single-handed. He wanted her to know that she -would never call upon him a second time in vain. She had thanked him -with simplicity, and now she registered the offer in her mind. Almost -unconsciously, she had begun already to seek for a way of escape, should -her captivity become at any time unendurable. - -For a captive she undoubtedly was. She had given herself, voluntarily -but completely, into the keeping of a man whom she felt she hardly -knew,--a man who had shown her every consideration in his power, but -upon whom even yet she was half-afraid to lean. Full of kindness as she -had found him to be she knew instinctively that he possessed other -qualities, was capable of other impulses. Something of the caged beast, -something of the pirate on shore, there was about him. He was quiet, he -was considerate, he was kind. But on his own ground, in his own -element, would he be always thus? Would he be always the generous -captor; the steadfast friend? Her heart misgave her a little. Words -that Giles Sheppard had uttered only that morning arose suddenly in her -memory, gibing words that sent the hot blood again to her cheeks. - -"Ah, he's a deep one, is Jake. What he gives with one hand he takes -with the other and more to it. He's not the man to make a one-sided -bargain. But he knows how to bide his time. He hasn't saddled himself -with a penniless wife and a hunchback brother-in-law just for the fun of -the thing. He'll be getting his own back presently, and I think I can -guess who'll pay the piper." - -Bitter words! Cruel words! Flung in her face for the malignant -pleasure of seeing her wince! - -She had not winced. She was glad to remember that. She had turned her -back on the man's hateful, sneering face. He had humbled her to the -earth once, but he would never have another opportunity. Henceforth -Jake stood between her and all the world. She had bought his protection -at a price, and she knew it for a weapon that would never fail her. As -to the price, she would pay him in service and obedience. It might be -he would never ask more of her than these. Life was short, and she was -very tired. Why should she fret herself over that which might never -come to pass? She closed her eyes from the red glow of the fire, and -lay still. - -Yet she could not have travelled far along the dim path to oblivion for -the quiet opening of the door a few minutes later brought her back in a -second. She started up in her chair, alert, nervous, to see Jake enter -in his square fashion and shut the door behind him. - -"Don't disturb yourself!" he said. - -He came and stood before the fire, and Maud, sinking back into her -chair, strove to calm the unreasonable inner tumult that his entrance -had excited. - -"Are you going to sit down and have a smoke?" she suggested. - -He gave her a side-glance that had in it a hint of humour. "You don't -object to being smoke-dried?" he asked, in his slow, gentle voice. - -"Of course I don't," she said. - -He took his clay pipe from his pocket and considered it. It was very -old, blackened, and discoloured with much use. He looked at her again, -doubtfully. - -An odd impulse moved her unexpectedly. She sat up again and held out -her hand. "Give it to me! I'll fill it for you." - -His hand closed upon it. She saw surprise in his eyes. - -"You!" he said. - -She found herself smiling. He actually looked embarrassed, a fact which -set her wholly at her ease. "But why not?" she said. "Is it too great -a treasure to be entrusted to me?" - -But he still held it back. "What do you want to do it for?" - -She kept her hand outstretched. "As a small--very small--return for -your goodness to Bunny," she said. - -His face changed a little. He put the pipe into her hand. "I don't -want any return," he said. "Don't do it for that!" - -She coloured, but she still smiled. "Very well. It is a favour -bestowed gratis. Where's your tobacco?" - -He fetched a pouch--nearly as ancient as the pipe--out of his pocket, -and laid it in her lap. - -"You're not to watch me," she said, speaking with a new-found confidence -that surprised herself. "Sit down and read the paper! I'll tell you -when it's done." - -He sat down opposite to her, and took up the paper. "You'll make a -beastly mess of your hands," he said uneasily. - -"Be quiet!" she said. - -He opened out the paper, and there fell a silence. - -Maud pursued her self-appointed task with mixed feelings. The tobacco -was rank and coarse, and it smelt like mildewed hay. It was, moreover, -nearly black, and she found herself fingering it with increasing -disgust. She was determined however not to be beaten, and with -compressed lips she pinched and poked the revolting substance, ramming -it deep into the blackened bowl with a heroic determination to -accomplish the business to the best of her ability, her feelings -notwithstanding. - -"You're packing it too tight," observed Jake gravely. - -She looked up half-laughing, half-vexed. "I told you not to watch." - -He dropped his paper, and leaned towards her. "I reckon I can't help -watching you, my girl," he said. "I've never seen anyone like you -before." - -He spoke with absolute simplicity, but his directness struck her like a -blow in the face. She lowered her eyes swiftly. - -"I'm sorry I haven't done it to your satisfaction," she said, in a -small, cold voice, from which all hint of intimacy had fled. "You had -better do it over again." - -She held out the pipe to him, and again the firelight gleamed golden-red -on that new bright ring that he had placed on her finger that day. - -He leaned further forward, stretched out a quiet hand that grasped and -held her own. - -He took the pipe from her with the utmost gentleness and laid it aside; -but he kept her hand, and after a moment he left his chair and knelt -beside her. - -She did not draw back from him, but she stiffened on the instant. Her -breathing quickened. - -There followed a silence, which she found peculiarly hard to bear, and -which she eventually broke. - -"Perhaps I ought to go to Bunny for a little. He will feel neglected." - -"He's not expecting you," said Jake. "Say,--Maud!" - -"What is it?" she said. - -She strove for composure and attained an aloofness that startled -herself. He released her hand and began to gather up the litter of -tobacco in her lap. - -"I was going to speak to you about Bunny," he said. "I've settled to -sleep with him to-night." - -"You?" She looked at him in quick surprise. - -He was not looking at her, being too intent upon his task. The firelight -shone red on his bent head. "Yes, I," he said. "You can sleep in my -room. I've had it got ready for you." - -The calm decision with which he spoke nearly took her breath away. "Oh, -but--but--" she began. - -He looked up, and she saw his frank, reassuring smile. It sent a curious -thrill of relief through her. It was such a smile as would have gained -the confidence of a child. - -"That's all right," he said. "Don't you start making difficulties, -because there aren't any at present. I've fixed it all. You're going -to bed to-night without any cares, and you're going to sleep the clock -round. See?" - -"I couldn't sleep--away from Bunny," she said, somewhat breathless -still, notwithstanding the comforting kindliness of his eyes. - -"I reckon you'll have to try," he said. "And if it's any comfort to you -to know it, Bunny is charmed with the idea." - -His words sent an odd dismay to her heart. With this lightening of her -burden, she seemed to see Bunny slipping away from her,--Bunny, who -filled her world. - -Jake was on the point of rising from his knees when she laid a detaining -hand upon his arm. "Jake," she said, with slight hesitation, "it--it is -more than kind of you to think of this. But do you know I would -rather--really rather--go on in the old way and look after Bunny myself -at night? You can help me in the daytime if you will. But--but--at -night,--Jake, please, let me take care of him at night!" - -There was entreaty in her voice. Jake remained beside her, his hand -grasping the arm of her chair. Once more she was conscious of the -warmth of the man as of a force that emanated from him. Her fingers -closed almost beseechingly upon his sleeve. - -"Say," he said slowly at last, "is it for your own sake--or for -Bunny's?" - -She quivered at the question. He was looking past her into the fire. -She had a feeling that he was deliberately compelling himself to do so. - -"I have always mothered Bunny," she said rather piteously. -"I--shouldn't feel easy about him if--if I were not within reach." - -"Is that quite true?" said Jake. - -"True!" she echoed. - -He nodded two or three times. "Is it quite true that you wouldn't feel -easy--absolutely easy--about leaving the boy in my charge?" - -She hesitated. - -"Now, don't mind me!" he said. "Be honest! I'm honest myself." - -She hesitated still. - -He turned his head slowly and looked at her, "It's not--quite--true, is -it?" he said. - -Her eyes fell before his. "Very well," she said, her voice very low. -"We will say it is entirely for my own sake. I want to be with him at -night." - -Jake was silent a moment. Then: "That's a pity," he said, "because I'm -afraid the matter is practically settled. Of course I'd call you if he -needed you," he added. - -She drew her hand from beneath his. "You have settled it between you, I -see," she said, with a small, pinched smile. - -He got up and solidly returned to his chair. "Yes, that's so. I don't -say we are going to make a rule of it. But for to-night anyway----" - -She interrupted him suddenly, with the vehemence of an abrupt -resolution. "No, Jake. It must be one thing or the other. I can't -have this discussion over again. So please understand that after -to-night we shall return to the usual arrangement, which is far the best -for us all." - -She spoke with nervous force. She was for the moment painfully afraid -of being mastered by this man whose strength was still such an unknown -quantity that she braced herself to test it as though she were -challenging a giant. - -Jake was digging in the bowl of his pipe with a penknife, and was for -the moment too engrossed with the matter to look up. At length, -however, he stuck the pipe into his mouth and began to search his -pockets for matches. He found one loose, and bent to strike it on the -heel of his boot. She watched him with a growing uneasiness. Would he -never speak? - -The rasp of the match set her nerves on edge. She rose and stood before -the fire, very slim and straight. - -Jake puffed at his pipe with immense deliberation, and in a moment the -burning match sped past her into the flames. He lay back in his chair -with his legs stretched out, his hands in his pockets, and regarded her. - -She turned to him at length, meeting the untamed glitter of his eyes -with stern composure. "Jake!" - -"My girl!" said Jake. - -She shivered suddenly and uncontrollably. He spoke as if--as if he had -a proprietary right over her. She read ownership--and the pride of -ownership--in his look. Abruptly she turned her back upon him. Just so -might he look upon one of his favourite horses. It was the look of the -master, admiring, arbitrary, possessive; and with all her soul she -resented it. - -She stood a moment gripping the mantelpiece, gathering her strength. -Then without another word she drew herself up and walked out of the -room. - -She knew even as she closed the door that by strength she would never -prevail against him. She might beat her will to atoms against his, but -not by a hair's breadth would she thus turn him from the course upon -which he was set. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - THE DAY AFTER - - -When Maud slept that night, it was the deep, deep sleep of exhaustion. -All the pressing cares of the past few months, all the strenuous -efforts, the unremitting anxieties, had culminated in one vast burden -which had at last overweighted her strength. Against her will the -burden had been lifted from her, but now that it was gone she slept and -slept. No dreams pierced that intense repose. She lay without -stirring, as though the ancient spell had been renewed and laid upon -her. - -The room in which she lay overlooked the whole stone-paved length of the -stable-yard, but no voice or stamping of hoofs awaked her. The cheery -sounds of the coming day did not even vaguely penetrate her rest. Body -and soul were wrapped in complete oblivion while hour after hour went -by. - -There had been snow in the night, and the sun arose upon a world of -dazzling whiteness. The toy fir-trees were mantled in it. The -stable-roofs gleamed in a thousand sparkles. - -She had pulled up the blind before lying down, and the reflection lit up -the room with an ever-growing brightness. She opened her eyes at last -quite suddenly and stared at the oak-beamed ceiling. - -The next instant she turned sharply on her side, aware of a furtive -movement in the room. Someone--a man--was on his knees before the -grate, stealthily coaxing the fire to burn. She had a glimpse of brown -leggings and a rough tweed suit. There were spurs on his heels that -shone like silver. His red-brown head was on a level with the bars at -which he was softly blowing. - -As she moved a flame shot up in response to his efforts and he turned, -still kneeling, and looked at her. - -"Say, you've had a real good night for once," he said in a voice of soft -approval. "How do you feel yourself this morning?" - -Maud, crimson-faced, searched for words and found none. It was one of -the most difficult moments she had ever had to endure. - -Jake glanced at the fire, pushed the poker into it, and got to his feet. -He came to her side. - -"Don't be mad with me!" he pleaded humbly. "Someone had to light the -fire, and old Lovelace is busy." - -He smiled as he said it, and when Jake smiled he was hard to resist. -Maud suddenly found the difficulties of the situation swept away. With -Jake in a docile mood she found it comparatively easy to deal. - -"Thank you," she said after a moment, and with slight hesitation -extended a hand to him. "It was kind of you to light the fire though I -could have done very well without it." - -He took the hand very respectfully. She even had a faint suspicion that -he also was secretly embarrassed. "The room faces due north," he said. -"It had to be done, though I hoped you wouldn't wake." - -"Thank you," she said again, and withdrew her hand from his steady, -all-enveloping grasp. "How--how is Bunny?" - -He smiled again with more assurance. His strong white teeth were very -good to see. "He had a splendid night. I've got him up and dressed. He -is downstairs, waiting for you to take him out." - -This piece of diplomacy obviously came to Jake as an inspiration. His -smile broadened at the brightening of her face. - -Maud raised herself on her elbow and pushed the thick hair back from her -forehead. "You are very good," she said gratefully. "Please, will you -go now, and let me get up?" - -He turned at once to the door, but paused as he reached it. "Say, -Maud," he said tentatively; "there's a breakfast-tray waiting for you. -May I bring it up?" - -"Oh, please don't!" she said hurriedly. "I never breakfast in bed. -Besides----" - -"I'll put it outside the door then," said Jake, and was gone. - -She heard him clatter down the uncarpeted stairs, whistling as if -well-pleased with himself, and as she reviewed his unceremonious -behaviour she decided to treat it with the simplicity with which he -evidently regarded it himself. There was that advantage in the situation -at least. His character and his conduct were wholly without -subtleties--or so she imagined. When he dumped down the breakfast-tray -in the passage a little later she called her thanks to him through the -closed door as though he had been an old and intimate friend. Perhaps -after all she had been over-fanciful the night before! - -She ate her breakfast with a growing sense of reassurance, dressed, and -went downstairs. - -Something of an ordeal here awaited her in the form of an encounter with -Mrs. Lovelace, who greeted her deferentially but with a reticence that -certainly did not veil any good-will. She presented her with the -household keys with the stiff remark that Mr. Bolton had desired her to -do so. - -Maud received them with an odd dismay. Somehow she had not visualized -herself as the mistress of the establishment. - -"Mr. Bolton also wished me to take your orders for dinner, ma'am," said -Mrs. Lovelace, with stiff dignity. "He is accustomed to dine in the -middle of the day, but I was to tell you that if you preferred a late -dinner it was all one to him." - -The slight emphasis on the last word did not escape Maud, and she saw at -once that Mrs. Lovelace could not be considered equally indifferent on -the subject. - -"But of course we will dine in the middle of the day," she said at once, -and was rewarded by a faint flicker of amiability on the old woman's -severe countenance. - -"That is as you please, ma'am," she said, with less formality, and Maud -felt that she had scored a point. - -She escaped from the interview at length with a sensation of relief, and -hastened to Bunny whom she found awaiting her with some impatience. - -The boy was in excellent spirits. He had enjoyed having Jake in -attendance, and unhesitatingly he let her know it. - -"Why, there's no trouble at all in being lifted by him," he said. "And, -by the way, he says you're not to lift me any more. It's too much for -you. I'm ready to go out now, but he will put me in the chair. He said -you were to call him. He's somewhere in the stables." - -Bunny's fashion of expressing himself was not a diplomatic one. Maud -did not argue the matter, but as she went in search of Jake a deep -resentment kindled and burned within her. So this was to be the first -consequence of her rash step--the gradual removal of Bunny from her -care! Bunny--her Bunny--for whose dear sake she had made the sacrifice! - -Out in the stable-yard she came upon Sam Vickers sucking a straw the -while he cleaned a saddle. He greeted her with a smile, and informed -her that the boss was in one of the loose boxes round the corner. - -Maud followed his directions, passing down a narrow passage between -stalls to an open stone-paved space beyond that was surrounded by loose -boxes. Here she paused, catching the sound of voices, and uncertain -whence they proceeded. A bony red setter came up to her and poked a -friendly nose into her hand. - -She bent to fondle him, and as she did so she heard Jake speaking in a -building close to her. She turned towards the voice with the intention -of joining him; but, so turning, she heard the words he uttered and -stood petrified. For Jake, albeit with the utmost calmness and -deliberation, was speaking a language that made her blood run cold. His -words came with a fluency and distinctness that made them all the more -terrible. If he had been stuttering with rage, she felt it would have -horrified her less. She stood rooted to the spot, white-faced and -powerless, while the kindly setter fawned about her knees. - -She thought the soft voice would never stop. Someone had done wrong and -was being cursed for it with appalling thoroughness. Such oaths as Jake -uttered she had never before heard or dreamed of, and the scathing -cruelty of his speech was like a stinging lash. - -No remonstrance or protest of any sort was offered in return; but after -what seemed to her an intolerable length of time there came the sound of -heavy, shuffling feet, and a small sandy-haired stable-lad of about -seventeen came blundering out into the yard. His face was crimson and -screwed up like the face of a crying baby. He sniffed emotionally as he -went past her. - -Maud remained where she was. She was sick with disgust. Her whole -being physical and mental was in revolt. She wanted to turn and go, but -something kept her there. She stood like an outraged princess, clothed -in a dignity that was wholly unconscious, while Despair, grim, -relentless, forced a way to her quivering heart. This--this was her -husband! This coarse-mouthed brute--this monster of evil eloquence! -This was the man to whom she had fled for protection, to whose -chivalrous instincts she had entrusted herself! Oh, what had she done? - -And then suddenly he came out upon her, striding forth, his riding-whip -clenched in his hand, his brows drawn in a ruddy, threatening line. - -He saw her and in a moment, magically, his face changed. The cruel, -lynx-like vindictiveness went out of it. He came to her smiling. - -"Hullo, Maud!" he said. - -And Maud shrank, shrank visibly, so that he could not fail to see; then -drew herself together, instinctively summoning her pride. - -"I came to look for you," she told him, with icy aloofness. "Bunny is -waiting to be moved." - -"Right O!" said Jake. - -He moved towards the passage by which she had entered the yard, and she -walked beside him, very pale, very erect, yet tingling with a disgust -that almost amounted to loathing. - -They went a few yards in silence, then silence became a burden. She -spoke. - -"It is really quite unnecessary to trouble you. I am fully capable of -moving him myself." - -He turned his head towards her. "Say, Princess, what's wrong?" he said. - -She quivered afresh at his tone; it had the possessive quality that she -so dreaded--was beginning to abhor. - -She did not answer, and he passed on with scarcely a pause. "I know you -can lift the boy; but it's very bad for you, and not over good for him. -Where's the point of it anyway when you've got me at hand to do it for -you?" - -"It is quite unnecessary to trouble you," she said again, "unnecessary -and absurd." - -"All right, my girl," he said unexpectedly. "Call it just one of my -whims and--humour it!" - -She felt herself flush. His tone--though perfectly good-tempered--had -been almost one of command. As they emerged from the stone passage into -the outer yard she gave abrupt rein to her indignation. - -"I really cannot submit to any interference in my care of Bunny. I told -you so last night, and I meant it. He has always been my especial -charge, and I cannot give him up." - -Jake's eyes were upon her, vigilant, intent, dominant. He spoke in a -drawl that sounded to her slightly derisive. "Say, now, what will you do -if Bunny is cured?" - -She turned her face sharply from him. What would she do indeed? But -the thing was an impossibility. She put the thought away from her. - -"I am not discussing that," she said, speaking with a grim effort at -calmness that cost her all her strength. "It is the present with which I -am dealing now. I believe you mean to be kind, but----" - -"You don't say!" interjected Jake softly. - -"But," she said again, with emphasis, "it is a mistaken kindness. I am -very grateful to you for your help, but really you must let me do my -share." - -An involuntary note of wistfulness in the last words softened the look -in Jake's eyes. He even smiled a little as he said: "Bunny being the -only person in the world for whom you entertain the smallest spark of -affection?" - -She looked at him quickly. "He is all that I have," she said, in a low -tone of protest. - -"That so?" said Jake deliberately. "Well,--I'm sorry." - -She felt the flush deepen to crimson in her face, and she quickened her -steps as they neared the house, longing to put an end to an encounter -that had brought her nothing but discomfiture. - -Jake lengthened his stride. He looked no longer at her, but straight -ahead with the eyes of a man who reads the future. Evidently the -prospect was a pleasing one, for the faint smile still lingered about -his lips. She was thankful that he had not observed that painful blush -of hers. - -At the door of his house he paused and stood back for her to precede -him; and so standing, suddenly and softly he gave utterance to the -thought in his mind. - -"Say, Maud," he said into her ear, "some day--when the boy is well and -off your hands--I'd just enjoy to see you with a child of your own in -your arms." - -She started away from the whispered words, started and quivered like a -wild thing trapped. For a single instant her eyes met his in open, -passionate revolt; then swiftly she passed him by. - -Jake followed with his lips pursed to a whistle, and a certain hard -glitter replacing the dream in his eyes. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - A FRIEND OF THE FAMILY - - -Someone was whistling in the stable-yard with elaborate turns and trills -to the accompaniment of a horse's hoofs that danced upon the stones. - -It was Christmas Day, and from the church half-way down the hill there -came the gay peal of bells. The stable-doors were all closed, and the -yard was in perfect order. There was no one about besides the solitary -whistler on horseback; and he, it seemed, had no intention of prolonging -his solitude, for he was heading his horse straight for the spotless -white gate that led to Jake Bolton's dwelling. - -He was a young man, with a swarthy face of undeniable ugliness that yet -possessed a monkeyish fascination that was all its own. His eyes -laughed out of it with a merry wickedness--odd eyes, one black, one -grey, that gave a most fantastic expression to his whole countenance. -They were not trustworthy eyes, but they were full of humour. He had a -comedian's trick of working the brows above them so that his features -were scarcely ever in repose. - -He sat in the saddle as one completely at home there; but there was no -grace about him. His limbs seemed to be fastened on with wires, like -the limbs of a marionette. - -Reaching the closed white gate, he stooped from the saddle, and with the -end of his riding-switch lifted the catch. On the little finger of the -hand he thus extended he wore a slender gold ring in which was set a -single sapphire surrounded by diamonds. - -He walked his horse up the footpath to the door, and on this he beat a -rousing tattoo, still without dismounting. - -During the pause that ensued he whistled a few more elaborate bars of -his melody, and then, coming to a break, bent and knocked again. - -The door opened in haste as if agitated by the second summons, and Mrs. -Lovelace, red-faced from her kitchen fire, appeared curtseying in the -entrance. - -"So sorry to keep you waiting, my lord! The girl's gone to church. And -will your lordship be pleased to walk in? We'd only heard this morning -of your lordship's return, and we'd not hardly expected to see your -lordship up so soon." - -"A merry Christmas to you, Lovelace!" said his lordship, with that most -engaging grin of his; he leaned towards her confidentially. "Take this -for love of me, in honour of the occasion!" - -He slipped a coin into Mrs. Lovelace's hand that caused her to curtsey -again ecstatically and wish him every blessing she could call to mind on -the spur of the moment. But he laughed easily and cut her short. - -"Hear, hear! But I can't stop to listen. Where's Jake Bolton? Is he -in?" - -"Well, no, my lord. I'm sorry to say Mr. Bolton's gone to church." - -"Sorry! Oh, come, Mother Lovelace, spare my morals! I always thought -going to church was an innocent amusement. Don't disabuse me of my -childish fancies! But what's the good of my walking in if the boss is -out and you are cooking the turkey? Unless you're wanting someone to -come and turn the spit!" - -Mrs. Lovelace raised hands of horrified protest. "How your lordship do -carry on, to be sure! No, no, my lord! I was only thinking that you'd -maybe fancy a glass of my cherry brandy with the wind in the east as it -is. I'm sure as Mr. Bolton would be wishful for me to make the -suggestion." - -"I should prefer the cherry brandy by itself," said Lord Saltash, with a -mischievous chuckle. "But I won't stay now, thanks all the same. I -suppose he'll be back some time? I've never known Jake go to church -before. Is he courting or what?" - -Mrs. Lovelace opened her small round eyes to their widest extent. "Why, -can it be as your lordship hasn't heard?" - -"Heard! Heard what? Tell me quickly!" urged his lordship. "This -suspense is too horrible!" - -"About Mr. Bolton's marriage, sir," explained Mrs. Lovelace, looking -suddenly prim. - -"What!" ejaculated her listener. "You don't say Bolton's been caught?" - -"The marriage took place last Sunday, my lord," said Mrs. Lovelace, -still looking prim but plainly enjoying her _role_ of informant. - -Lord Saltash slapped his thigh with a yell of laughter. "Poor old Jake! -And who is the bride?" - -"Mrs. Bolton, my lord, is the step-daughter of Mr. Sheppard of the -Anchor Hotel," said Mrs. Lovelace. - -"Is she though? What's she like? Pretty?" - -Mrs. Lovelace pursed her lips. "She is a lady, my lord,--own daughter -to a baronet." - -"Oh, I say!" protested Lord Saltash. "You're cramming me!" - -Mrs. Lovelace looked shocked but at the same time flattered by the -accusation. "Indeed, my lord, it's the truth!" she protested. "And her -brother Sir Bernard Brian is in the house at the present moment. He, -poor young gentleman, has the misfortune to be afflicted with a -humpback." - -"What? What? What? My good woman, do you know what you're talking -about?" Saltash's mobile brows came suddenly low over his eyes in a -heavy scowl that added years to his appearance. He leaned nearer to -her. "What?" he said again. - -Mrs. Lovelace paused, debating which of her statements he desired her to -repeat. But ere she could make up her mind, Lord Saltash dropped with a -thud to the ground. He threw his horse's bridle over the gate-post, and -turned to enter. - -"Just ring up one of the stable-lads, and tell him to walk Moscow up and -down till I come!" he ordered, his voice no longer bland, but curt and -imperious. "I should like to see this brother-in-law of Bolton's, so -show me in!" - -Mrs. Lovelace turned before him and scurried down the passage like a -startled hen. - -Lord Saltash strode after--a figure of medium height, sudden of -movement, unimposing of carriage, yet withal possessing that nameless -something that denotes high breeding. It was said that there was a -strain of royal blood in the Burchester family, and this member of it -had long been dubbed "the merry monarch" by his intimates. There was -about him an inherent arrogance that no one dreamed of resenting, so -essentially was it a part of himself. - -He entered Jake's sunny parlour with absolute assurance, though the -frown still drew his forehead. - -"Lord Saltash!" announced Mrs. Lovelace. - -And "Hullo, Bunny!" came from Lord Saltash in the same moment as he -strode forward to Bunny's sofa with the confidence of one entering the -presence of an old friend. - -Bunny's quick cry of "Charlie!" fully justified this attitude, and Mrs. -Lovelace withdrew with a very greatly enhanced opinion of the importance -of the Brian family. - -"He might have been greeting his own brother," she said to herself, as -she trotted back to her kitchen. - -There was certainly no cordiality lacking in Bunny's reception of the -visitor. He clung to Lord Saltash's hand with shining eyes upraised. - -"I say, what a bounder you are to have stayed away all this time! I -thought you'd have come back long ago. Maud's married. I suppose you -know?" - -"Married to Jake Bolton?" There was a peculiar intonation in the -question. Lord Saltash was smiling as he uttered it, smiling with drawn -brows. - -"Yes; and he's the best of good fellows. But I wanted her to wait for -you all the same," said Bunny, with the candour of the confidant. "It -was no good talking though. She couldn't wait." - -"How long has she been married?" Lord Saltash's tone was settling into -studied indifference. - -"Only a few days," Bunny told him. "Only since Sunday." - -"Was it so urgent as that then? She isn't generally in such a desperate -hurry." - -Bunny looked uncomfortable. "You see, it was that brute of a Sheppard -at 'The Anchor.' The mater married him, you know. Thought she was -going to do a good thing for us all. I think it has turned out all -right so far as she is concerned. But he was a perfect beast to Maud -and me." - -Lord Saltash nodded comprehension. "I never did think your mother was -over-endowed with wisdom," he commented. "And how did you come to know -Bolton? Is he a friend of Sheppard's?" - -"They're in the same lot, though I don't think Jake likes him. Jake's a -good sort, isn't he?" said Bunny almost pleadingly. "He's been jolly -decent to us." - -Lord Saltash was gazing before him through eyelids that were slightly -contracted. "I believe he is quite a good sort," he said after a moment -without enthusiasm. "And Maud? Is she in love with him?" - -"Good gracious, no!" said Bunny. - -Lord Saltash turned towards him sharply. "You're very emphatic. Why?" - -"Well, she isn't," Bunny asserted. "Jake knows she isn't." - -"Oh! And what may Jake's sentiments be?" - -"He's gone on her of course," said Bunny. "But he isn't nearly so pally -with her as he is with me. Why, he even smacks my head sometimes!" He -spoke with genuine pride. - -Lord Saltash laughed. "Oh, Jake's a great disciplinarian," he said, "or -he wouldn't be where he is. But look here, does he know that I am--so -to speak--a friend of the family?" - -"Yes, I told him," said Bunny. - -"What did you tell him?" - -"Told him that you and Maud were chums, and that if she married anyone -she ought to marry you." Bunny's tone was blunt, his face somewhat red. - -Lord Saltash laughed again. The drawn look had wholly gone from his -eyes. He worked his brows up and down with astonishing agility. "That -pleased him, I'll bet," he remarked flippantly. "And so he decided to -get married the next day, did he, and damn the consequences?" - -"Oh no, it didn't come off then. We had a big row with the Sheppard -beast first; and it was after that Maud went off and fixed it up with -Jake on her own. It was a pity you weren't there, Charlie. She'd have -married almost anyone to get away." - -"Any scoundrel?" laughed Lord Saltash. "Well, old chap, do you know, -between me and you, I'm not sure that she hasn't done better for herself -than if she had waited for me to come along? Marriage has such a nasty -way of taking the gilt off the gingerbread, and I must admit I always -liked the gilt the best. Now, Jake,--good soul--prefers the stuff -itself; in fact, I'm not sure that he isn't a bit of a beast in some -ways. He looks it. But possibly Maud likes beasts." - -"Indeed she doesn't!" said Bunny, with quick warmth. "And as for -Jake--he's a brick. I see a good deal of him, for he's taken me on at -night now; so I ought to know." - -Lord Saltash got up and strolled to the window. "Yes, he must be rather -a brick," he said, after a moment. "Doesn't Maud think so?" - -"No, Maud's furious because Jake won't let her lift me any more. I -expect she is jealous," said Bunny, with some complacence. "And she -doesn't like being bossed." - -"You don't object apparently?" Lord Saltash sounded indifferent, even -slightly bored. - -"Oh, I'd sooner be bossed by a man than a woman any day," said Bunny. -"Besides, Jake's a sport. I like him." - -"He's a gentleman," said Saltash unexpectedly. - -"Not exactly," protested Bunny. "He doesn't profess to be that." - -"My dear chap, a gentleman is born not made. Jake's sound. It's more -than most of us can say. I wouldn't part with him for a thousand -pounds." - -Lord Saltash turned from the window with a pleasant smile on his ugly -face, and broke into a careless whistle. - -Bunny watched him fidgeting to and fro with a slightly puzzled frown. -He had expected something more dramatic than this easy acquiescence to -the ruling of Fate. He was sure in his own mind that the Lord Saltash -of to-day loved his sister as much as had the Charlie Burchester of -other days, and he could not understand the serenity of his attitude. - -"I suppose you'll wait and see Maud," he said presently. - -"I suppose I shall," said Saltash, with a baffling grimace. "Are you -going to eat your Christmas dinner without visitors?" - -"Yes. The mater was coming, but that Sheppard bounder turned awkward at -the last minute, and as we none of us wanted to go there, it fell -through. They've got some show on at 'The Anchor.' We're well out of -that." - -"And you consider this a change for the better?" questioned Lord -Saltash. - -"Rather! I wouldn't go back for fifty pounds. Neither would Maud. -It's much nicer up here than down by the sea, too," said Bunny, with -enthusiasm. - -"I suppose you haven't been to the Castle," said Lord Saltash, coming -back to the fire to stand before it. - -"No. Jake said something about taking us some day. But it's not much -good my going. I'm such a log." The old bitterness suddenly sounded in -Bunny's voice. - -Lord Saltash lightly poked him with the end of his riding-switch. "I'll -take you round myself some day, you and Maud. I'm off for a ride now -when I've had a look round the stables. I shall be back in an hour or -so, in time to see the virtuous Jake when he comes back from church." - -He turned to the door therewith, and fell to whistling softly the tune -to which he had entered the stable-yard a short time before. Opening it -he glanced back to wave a careless adieu, then passed whistling out. - -"Well, I'm jiggered!" said Bunny. "Anyone would think he didn't care a -jot!" - -Which was precisely the impression that Lord Saltash had intended to -convey. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - THE OLD LIFE - - -That Christmas morning was like a dream to Maud. - -To find herself in church with Jake by her side was a circumstance that -she had been very far from expecting, and the experience was so unique -that it seemed scarcely real. - -It was by his suggestion that they were there, and he had overruled her -hesitation as to leaving Bunny with a masterly skill that had enlisted -Bunny himself on his side. - -So they had gone, like a sober married couple, as Maud said to herself, -though the thought of Jake as her husband was somehow one that she -invariably failed utterly to grasp. She herself found it impossible to -give her undivided attention to the service with the perpetual -consciousness of his presence at her side. She could not tear her mind -from him. He came between her and her devotions. - -And yet he himself seemed to be wholly absorbed. Not once did those -watchful eyes stray in her direction. He followed the entire service -with reverence and a steady concentration that she envied but could not -emulate. - -When it was over and they were walking back, he drew a deep breath and -remarked: "That's the first time I've been in church, except for our -wedding, for twenty years." - -Maud looked at him in amazement. "So long as that?" - -He nodded. "I used to go regularly till my mother died. After that, I -went to sea and got out of the way of it." - -There fell a silence upon his words. The colour that was always so -quick to rise in Maud's cheeks spread upwards to her forehead. - -It was with an evident effort that she said finally: "You haven't told -me anything about your mother yet, Jake." - -He turned his head slowly towards her. "It didn't strike me that you -would care to hear," he said, with simplicity. - -She conquered her embarrassment with difficulty, but her voice was -curiously devoid of enthusiasm as she said: "I am interested--of -course." - -"Really?" said Jake. "I don't know why you should be. She was a very -fine woman, and she killed herself with hard work when my father failed -as a farmer. That's about all her story." - -"Oh, Jake, how dreadfully sad!" There was quick sympathy in Maud's -tone. She put out a shy hand to him as they walked. - -He took it, held it fast for a moment, and let it go. "A woman will -always attempt the impossible," he said, "for the sake of anyone she -cares for. You would do the same for Bunny. I saw that the first day I -met you. I've seen it a hundred times in different parts of the world, -and I guess it's one of the greatest things in life." - -Maud uttered a sharp sigh. "I don't see anything great in doing what -one must," she said rather sadly. "It is very nice of you to admire -women, but I expect it is chiefly because you don't understand them." - -Jake's frank smile appeared at her words. "I'm not disputing that most -women need a burden of some sort," he said gently. "I guess that's just -a woman's way. She wouldn't be happy if she hadn't one." - -"And yet you want to take mine away!" The words were out almost before -she knew it. She repented them even as they fell. - -Jake's smile passed, and an odd, dogged look took its place. "I reckon -that's different," he said. "You've carried too heavy a burden all your -life. Do you know, Maud"--his voice softened though his face remained -unchanged--"that first time I saw you, I recognized that look of -desperate endurance in your eyes that my mother used to have? It cut -right through me. And you were so young, which made it worse." - -"I don't feel young," she interposed. - -"I know," he made answer. "You've missed it all. But when you're -stronger--happier--you'll find you're not so old. There are quite a lot -of good things in the world even for middle-aged folk like you and me." - -She uttered a little dubious laugh. - -"Yes, that's so," he asserted, in that calm, confident drawl of his. -"And that brings me round to what I've been wanting to say to you. I -don't want to deprive you of anything worth having, but I am -wanting--real badly--to make a sound man of Bunny as soon as may be. -Reckon you're wanting that too?" - -Her heart gave a thick, hard throb. "Of course," she said rather -breathlessly. - -"Yes, of course," agreed Jake imperturbably. "Well, I had a letter last -night from Capper, one of the biggest surgeons in the world. I had the -good luck to do him a small service, once, and he can't somehow forget -it. Now he's coming to England in a few weeks, and he'll look me up. -I've told him about Bunny, and he's sort of interested. Say, Maud, it -would be a mighty big thing to let him examine the little chap and see -what he thinks." - -Maud's face was very pale. She walked in silence. - -Jake glanced at her. "You'd be afraid?" he suggested. - -"I don't know," she said, in that same breathless tone. "It--it seems -rather soon. And suppose--suppose he failed!" - -"My dear," Jake said gently. "Capper won't fail. He'll either tackle -the job and carry it through, or he won't attempt it. That's the sort -of man he is." - -Maud dropped back into silence. The road at this point was somewhat -steep, and she was gasping for breath. - -Suddenly Jake reached out, took her hand, and pulled it through his arm. -"All right, my girl, all right!" he said kindly. "We won't hustle any. -I shan't say another word to Bunny on the subject till you have made up -your mind what you'd like done. Now you lean on me! I'll pull you up." - -She did not want to lean on him, but for some reason she could not at -once withdraw her hand. They mounted the hill side by side. - -Jake said no more upon the subject. He evidently regarded it as closed. -As they turned in at length at the white gates, he said: "I was -wondering if your mother could be persuaded to come up to tea if I went -and fetched her with the dog-cart. We couldn't squeeze Sheppard into -that if we tried." - -She knew that he made the suggestion solely for her pleasure, and a -sudden warmth kindled within her. - -"You are good to me, Jake!" she said gratefully. - -"Oh, rats!" said Jake. "Being good to you is all one with being good to -myself. I'll go then as soon as dinner is over. Now who in thunder--" -He stopped abruptly gazing straight ahead. - -A momentary frown drew his level brows and passed. "Hullo!" he said, in -a soft drawl. - -Maud was looking ahead too. She saw a man's figure moving towards them -over the stones of the yard; she heard the ring of spurs. And suddenly -she stood still, white to the lips, panting, unnerved. - -It could have been only for a second, that pause of hers; for at once -she was aware of Jake's hand pushed lightly through her arm, leading her -forward. - -"I guess I don't need to introduce Lord Saltash," he said. "You've met -before." - -Yes, they had met before, met and parted, and the memory of it stabbed -her to the heart. She moved forward, as it were mechanically, under -Jake's guidance. She had known that this ordeal would have to be faced, -but it had taken her unawares. She was unprepared. - -But the moment she heard his voice, his laugh, her agitation was gone. -There was a subtle _camaraderie_ in Lord Saltash's greeting that -smoothed the way. She remembered with a pang that it had ever been his -custom to take the easiest course. - -With his hand holding hers, and his ugly face laughing its debonair -welcome into her own, she could not feel tragic or even disconcerted any -longer, even though with his other hand he clapped Jake on the shoulder. - -"So you've gone and got married, have you?" he said, his eyebrows -working with monkeyish rapidity. "How original of you! I won't be -banal enough to congratulate. It's such a bore to have to reply to that -sort of thing. Let me wish you a happy Christmas instead! _Ma belle -reine des roses, je te salue_! You are more faultily faultless than -ever!" - -He made her a sweeping, cavalier's bow, and lightly kissed her hand. - -She laughed without effort. "How odd to meet you like this, Charlie! I -thought you were still abroad." - -She was not even aware of uttering his Christian name, so naturally did -it rise to her lips. It seemed to her suddenly that the old cruel -barrier had been removed. Since they could never again be lovers, they -were free now to be friends. - -Surely the same thought had struck him also, for his odd eyes smiled -intimately, confidentially, into hers, ere he turned in his lightning -fashion to Jake, standing solidly by her side. - -"You knew we were old friends?" he questioned. - -Jake's eyes, red-brown, intent, watched the swarthy, mobile face without -the smallest shade of expression. "Yes," he said, in his slow soft -voice, "I knew." - -Maud glanced at him quickly. How much did he know? Had Bunny ever -confided in him upon the subject? - -But his face, absolutely composed and normal, told her nothing. He -accepted the hand that Lord Saltash extended, looking him full and -straight in the face. And through her mind unbidden there ran the -memory of that strange story of treachery that Jake had once told to her -and Bunny. Looking at the dark, keen countenance of this man who had -once been so much more to her than friend, she tried to visualize his -double, and failed utterly. Surely there could be but one Charlie -Burchester in all the world! - -"What are you trying to see?" laughed Lord Saltash. "I carry neither my -virtues nor my vices in my face, being long past the ingenuous age. -Have we time to go round the Stables? Or is your Christmas turkey -clamouring to be eaten?" - -Maud shot a swift look at Jake who after a momentary pause said, "I can -go round with you now if you wish, my lord." - -Saltash made a quick grimace. "That's very obliging of you, Bolton. -But don't let me interfere with your domestic arrangements! I can come -over again later." - -It was then that Maud very quietly intervened. "If you care to join us -at dinner I am sure we shall be very pleased, and you can go and see the -stud afterwards." - -"What! Really?" said Lord Saltash. "Of course I shall be delighted. -There are to-morrow's events at Graydown, Bolton, I want you to post me -up with the latest. Sure I shan't be in the way?" - -He put the question directly to Jake, who replied without haste or -hesitation: "I reckon no guest of ours could be that." - -There was nothing in his manner to indicate if he were pleased or -otherwise by the arrangement. He seemed to be in a mood of extreme -reticence, and Maud wondered as they walked to the house if she had -vexed him by taking upon herself to extend hospitality to his patron. - -But then it had been the only course open to her. Surely he must see -that! She and Charlie were such old friends; they could not begin to be -strangers now. - -Yet the doubt worried her. Jake was plainly not upon very intimate -terms with Lord Saltash. Or was it her presence that caused constraint? -She wished she knew, but she had no means of ascertaining. She could -only do her best, ably seconded by Saltash, to smooth over any slight -difficulties that might arise from a situation that was certainly none -too easy. - -Despite her efforts she could not fail to note that Jake was more -self-contained, more unresponsive, than she had ever before seen him, -and for a time she felt her own manner to be strained and unnatural in -consequence. - -Lord Saltash plainly noticed nothing. Throughout that Christmas dinner -he was just as gay, as debonair, as audacious, as he had been in the old -days, complimented her with his usual effrontery, provoked her to -laughter with all his old quick wit. She found it impossible not to -respond, impossible not to expand in the warmth of his good comradeship. -She seemed to be drawn into a magic circle of gaiety that could not -last, that was all the more precious because it could not last. Bunny -also was well within that charmed region. He was full of animation, -eager, excited, even merry. She had an uneasy fear that he would pay -for his high spirits later, but for the time she had not the heart to -check him. She understood his feelings so thoroughly. It was so good -to have Charlie with them again and to bury all the troubles of the -past, so good to see the flower of friendship spring from the dead root -of passion. so good to be on easy terms again with this man whom in -spite of everything, she could not but regard as a kindred spirit. - -They had always been sympathetic. They looked upon much in life with -the same eyes. They had the same tastes, the same intuitions, often the -same impulses. Yes, he had shown himself unworthy. There was a fatal -flaw in his character. He was wild, lawless, immoral; but he was her -friend. Somehow she could not feel that anything could ever alter that. -They had been too near, too intimate. He had become like one of the -family. She could not regard him in any other light. He had wounded -her to the heart, but yet, with a woman's odd faithfulness, she forgave -him, pitied him, understood him. Only upon that one point she had stood -firm. Her innate purity had arisen as an angel with a flaming sword, -dividing them. She had not been able to overlook his sins and marry -him. She had known him too well--too well. Possibly even she had loved -him too well also. - -But all that was over now. The pain was stifled, the sacrifice was -past. She could suffer herself to accept his easy friendship with no -dread for the future. She could let herself be at ease with him once -more, knowing herself to be beyond his reach. Once very sorely she had -been tempted to yield to him, but that temptation could never occur -again. Her marriage was a safe anchor from which she could never break -free and drift out to sea. She could afford now to be kind, since -henceforth no more than kindness could ever be expected from her. And -it was so good to be with him again. With all his waywardness and -instability Charlie Burchester was the most satisfying friend she had. -He never wearied her. He always caught and charmed her mood. He was so -rarely sensitive, so delicately alive, to every change of feeling. -There was even something almost uncanny sometimes in the way he read her -woman's heart, a feat for which he himself accounted by declaring that -they had been born under the same star. - -It all came back to her as they sat at the same board on that Christmas -Day. It was just as if there had never been any lift in their -friendship. The memory of the man's passionate pleading and her own -anguished refusal had faded into an evil dream. They were back once -more in the old happy days of comradeship before he had ever spoken to -her of love. - -Only Jake's presence held her to the present, and when at the end of -dinner he rose to carry out his suggestion with regard to fetching her -mother in the dog-cart she felt, as soon as the door closed upon him, -that the old life she knew and loved had wholly returned. She and Bunny -and Saltash were just children together, and they settled down to enjoy -themselves as such. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - THE FAITHFUL WIDOWER - - -Lord Saltash's desire to see the stud evaporated completely during the -afternoon. He stayed and made himself extremely charming to Mrs. -Sheppard, who returned with Jake, very fluttered and arch, to spend an -hour--only an hour or Giles would be so cross--in her daughter's new -home. And when she left again under Jake's escort it was already -growing dark. - -"I've got to talk business with Jake so I may as well wait till he comes -back," said Lord Saltash comfortably, and they gathered round the -blazing fire and sat in luxurious enjoyment. - -Undoubtedly Bunny had enjoyed himself that afternoon, but he had begun -to grow restless and irritable, signs which Maud had learned to -recognize as the heralds of a wakeful night. She wondered with some -uneasiness if Jake would be able to manage him with his usual success. - -"You haven't got a piano here, have you?" asked Saltash in a pause. - -She told him, "No." - -In the old days they had sung duets together. She wondered if he -remembered. - -He went lightly on. "You will have to use the one at the Castle. You -mustn't let your talents run to seed. Come up any day, you and Bunny. -The place will always be open to you, whether I am there or not." - -She thanked him for the thought. "We should love to come; I have had no -opportunities for playing for months, not since we left London." - -"No?" he said. "I say, what made your mother come to Fairharbour? It's -a hole of a place to live in." - -She felt her face burn in the firelight. She hesitated, and at once -Bunny cut in. - -"The mother always has an eye on the main chance," he said. "And she is -a great believer in friendship. When things look black she always likes -to hunt up old friends and give them their opportunity." - -His meaning was not obscure. Maud made a quick movement of protest; but -Lord Saltash's inconsequent laugh covered her discomfiture on the -instant. - -"Poor Lady Brian! I am afraid her luck and mine are made of the same -rotten material. It tears at a touch. But I should have thought she -might have chosen a sounder man than Sheppard of 'The Anchor' for a -husband." - -"Isn't he sound?" asked Maud quickly. - -Lord Saltash laughed again. "I could sell him up--lock, stock, and -barrel--to-morrow if I wanted." - -She started. "Charlie! You don't mean that!" - -He looked at her with a gleam of mischief in his queer eyes. "Of course -I do! 'The Anchor' belongs to me, and all that is in it. It's -mortgaged for considerably more than its value, and I hold the mortgage. -Did he never mention that detail?" - -Maud sat speechless. - -He stretched out a lazy hand. "It's all right, Queen Maud. He is quite -safe so long as he behaves decently to you and yours. He's something of -a brute-beast, I believe? Well, if he needs any salutary correction, you -must let me know." - -His ugly face laughed into hers; the light in his eyes was half-mocking, -half-tender. - -"It's good to know that there may be something left that I can yet do -for you," he said. "The worthy Jake may have a stout right arm, but he -is not a Croesus." - -He turned the conversation in his easy, well-bred fashion, and her -embarrassment died down. But the carelessly uttered information dwelt -persistently in her mind, even though she found herself talking of -indifferent things. It was strange that all her affairs should be so -completely--and it seemed so irrevocably--under the direct control of -this man whom she had once so resolutely driven out of her life. Fate or -chance had thrown them together again. A little secret tremor went -through her. What would come of it? - -She had not attempted to touch the hand he had stretched forth to her. -It had fastened upon the arm of the chair in which she sat and rested -there. Presently she looked down at it, her eyes attracted by the gleam -of the ring upon it. - -"Your own," murmured Saltash. "Violets blue as your eyes!" - -He moved his hand in the firelight, and the sapphire shone in the midst -of the diamonds like a deep blue flame in the heart of a leaping fire. -He drew a little nearer to her. - -"You sent it back to me," he said. "I have worn it--like a faithful -widower--ever since." - -Her heart contracted with an odd little pain. "Don't wax sentimental, -Charlie!" she pleaded, with a difficult smile. - -"Would you prefer me heartless?" he said; but he withdrew his hand, and -the sapphire burned no more. - -They began to talk again upon ordinary topics, and the conversation -turned upon the Graydown Steeplechase Races of the morrow. Two horses -from the Burchester Stud were running. - -"Beauties they are too!" said Bunny, with enthusiasm. "Sam Vickers -swears they'll win." He uttered his quick, impatient sigh. "What -wouldn't I give to see 'em do it!" - -"Why shouldn't you?" said Saltash. "I'll take you over." - -"Will you?" cried Bunny, with shining eyes. - -And in the same breath. "No, no!" said Maud quickly. "Charlie! Why do -you suggest these impossible things?" - -Saltash laughed. "I never suggest the impossible," he said. -"Bunny--and you too--can come along in the car if you will. I can make -him quite comfortable with cushions." - -But Maud shook her head. "It isn't so easy as it used to be. And he -gets tired so soon. Really--really, it can't be done!" - -"Oh, Maud, do shut up!" broke in Bunny. "You jaw like any old woman! -Of course I'll come, Charlie! When will you be round?" - -Lord Saltash looked at Maud with an impish expression. "I am afraid you -are in the minority, _ma reine_. But leave it to me! I'll undertake -that no harm is done." - -Maud rose suddenly from her chair. She stood upright and slender in the -firelight. "I can't consent to it," she said with resolution. - -He sprang instantly to his feet. "You don't want to come?" he said. - -She met his challenging eyes with an effort. "Don't make things -difficult," she begged in a low voice. - -"But if I got your mother to come too!" he urged. "She used to love -race-meetings." - -She turned her eyes away. "Neither Bunny nor I can go," she said -steadily. - -"I say I will go!" cried Bunny hotly. "I'm old enough to do as I like, -and I won't be dictated to by anyone." - -Saltash turned back to him. "I'll take you one day, old chap. But the -queen's word is law, you know. We can't go in direct opposition to it. -Moreover," with audacious simplicity, "it wouldn't be great sport for -any one if the queen herself did not deign to accompany us." - -"She'll go fast enough if I do," said Bunny. "She sticks to me like a -leech." - -"Lucky beggar!" said Saltash. - -He glanced back at Maud. She was still on her feet, turned partially -from him. It was evident that she did not mean to renew the friendly -intercourse that his unwelcome suggestion had interrupted. - -"I must get back to my lonely castle," said Saltash. - -She turned then, as he had known she would. "No, don't go--why should -you?--till--till Jake comes back!" - -He laughed into her eyes. "Now, don't try to persuade me that you want -me any longer! I know the signs too well. I am going to walk down and -meet Jake, as I must have a word with him about the animals. By the -way, why don't you call him Jacob? The other is too frivolous for your -august lips." - -There was a sting in the smiling question of which she alone was aware. -She knew that he had it in him to be malicious at times. But she would -not seem to notice. - -"Are you backing either of the horses running to-morrow?" she asked. - -He raised his agile brows. "But, of course I am. Who ever went to a -meeting without putting something on? And you don't suppose I would lay -a wager against one of my own beasts, do you?" - -"You always back your own before anyone else's?" she said. - -"Of course," he made prompt reply. "We've pulled off a good many events -since Jake took command." - -"Yes," she said slowly. "He is a genius with horses." - -"Oh, quite useful," said Saltash carelessly. "Well, good night to you -both! Many thanks for your kind hospitality! Don't forget the piano at -the Castle! Come and go exactly as you like! I will give orders to -that effect." - -"You are very kind," she said. - -But the pleasant intimacy between them was broken. She knew that her -refusal to go with him on the morrow had hurt him. He was in a mood to -sting at a touch. - -She gave him her hand with genuine regret. "Good-bye, Charlie!" she -said gently. - -He took it with a gesture that made her remember that his mother had -been a Frenchwoman. "Good night, _ma chere_!" he said lightly. "When -thou art dreaming, think of me!" - -Her faint laugh had a note of bitterness. "But I never dream," she -said. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - THE NARROWING CIRCLE - - -When Jake returned at length, he entered an atmosphere so unmistakably -stormy that he looked instinctively to Maud for an explanation. - -The room was lighted and the curtains drawn. She was sitting in the low -chair by the fire doing some intricate crochet-work with knitted brows. -There was tension in her attitude, tension in the firm compression of -her lips. - -Bunny lay on his sofa, hot-cheeked, fiery-eyed, beating an impatient -tattoo with one hand on the table by his side. On the table lay the -presents that he had received that day, a box of paints and sketching -block from his mother, a book from Maud, a small telescope from Jake -himself. But he was looking at none of them. His brows too were -closely drawn. His teeth bit viciously into his lower lip. - -Maud did not raise her eyes at Jake's entrance. She seemed intent upon -her work. He came and stood beside her. - -"I should have been back sooner," he remarked, "but Lord Saltash met me, -and I had to take him back to the Castle in the dog-cart." - -Her fingers moved very rapidly. "I thought perhaps you would dine with -him," she said, in a voice that sounded very cold and aloof. - -"Not I," said Jake. "Give me my own fireside, and my clay pipe that -doesn't go into aristocratic society!" - -She raised her eyes momentarily. "Are you a Socialist?" she asked. - -His eyes were unblinkingly upon her. "I guess not," he said, speaking -with something of a drawl. "I've seen life--lots of it--that's all. As -to my politics, well, I reckon they're mine and no one else's. I think -just what I like of everything and everybody." He turned those intent -eyes suddenly upon Bunny. "What's wrong with the head of the family?" -he asked. - -At once Bunny burst into speech. "Jake, it's--it's infernal that I -can't go to the races in Charlie's motor--to-morrow. He's offered to -take me. Why shouldn't I go? Hang it all, I will go!" He banged his -clenched fist upon the table with the last passionate words. - -Maud kept her eyes upon her work. Her hands though they moved so -rapidly, were not wholly steady. "He is not fit to go," she said. - -"That's not the reason you refused!" flung back Bunny, who was rapidly -working himself up to fever pitch. "You said No just because you -thought Jake would be jealous if you said you'd go. You're afraid of -him, that's what's the matter with you,--afraid of his finding out that -you're still in love with Charlie." - -He broke into his cracked, painful laugh, stopping abruptly as Jake left -the hearth and stepped quietly to his side. - -"Don't touch me!" he said, shrinking sharply back. - -Jake stooped. His face was grim. "My son, I'm going to touch you," he -said. "I'm going to carry you straight up to bed. You've had more than -enough excitement for to-day." - -"I'm not going to bed!" cried Bunny, his voice high and defiant. "I'm -not going for hours yet. Jake--Jake--leave me alone, do you hear? -You're hurting me!" - -"Afraid you've got to be hurt," said Jake. - -He was slipping steady hands under the boy's writhing body. Maud had -risen. She came swiftly forward. She touched Jake's shoulder, her face -pale and agitated. - -"Don't, please, Jake!" she entreated. "It does more harm than good." - -He did not look at her or pay the smallest attention. Bunny was already -in his arms,--Bunny, purple with rage, waving his arms in blind -impotence. - -"P'raps you'd open the door for me!" said Jake, in his slow gentle -voice. - -She went to the door. Somehow it was the only thing left to do. Jake -followed her with his burden. - -As he did so, Bunny ceased to struggle, realizing the mastery of the -steady arms that bore him, and spoke; in a voice of tense hostility. - -"You beastly groom!" he said. - -Jake said nothing whatever. He carried him firmly, unfalteringly, from -the room. - -Maud closed the door softly behind him, and went back to her chair. - -But she did not take up her work again. She sat gazing into the fire -with wide, troubled eyes. She was beginning to realize that old -associations, old friends, could be nothing but a disturbing element in -her life, beginning to wish with yearning sadness that Charlie had not -come back into it. She was tired--so tired, so sick at heart. - -As for Bunny, he had grown out of hand and would never be the same to -her again. She was sure of it, she was sure of it. Nothing ever could -be the same again in this new world that she had entered. It was a -world of harsh realities, wherein dwelt no softening magic. The fate -she had dreaded was surely closing in upon her. Whichever way she -turned, she found a narrowing circle. - -A long time passed. She began to grow anxious. What was happening -upstairs? Was it possible that Jake might after all lose his temper and -visit his wrath upon Bunny's rebellious head? Would he by any chance -make use of that frightful language which she had heard him employ only -a few days before to a negligent stable-boy? Bunny's bitter epithet -dwelt in her memory. Surely Jake would be something more than human if -he did not resent it! - -And then suddenly she heard his square footfall on the uncarpeted -stairs, and a great wave of agitation went through her. All her being -quivered at the thought of him, his unyielding mastery, his utter -confidence. Two eyes, one black, one grey, seemed to flash a mocking -question out of the depths of the fire into which she gazed. Her heart -gave a little quiver of misgiving that yet was oddly mingled with -satisfaction. No, she was not wholly sorry that Lord Saltash had come -back into her life. He was so subtly refreshing. He sounded deeps in -her of which none other guessed. His gaiety of soul called back her -vanished youth. - -Jake entered, and she turned her head, masking her embarrassment with a -resolute effort. "Oh, Jake, come and sit down! I am so sorry this has -happened." - -He pulled forward a chair and dropped into it. "The little chap is -overtired," he said. "He'll be better left to himself for a bit." - -He spoke in a quiet, temperate voice. She realized with relief that he -had not taken Bunny's bitter outburst seriously. She took up her work -again. - -"He is always difficult to manage when he gets caught by one of these -moods," she said. "And he is apt to say wild things." - -Jake began to fill his pipe, making no comment. - -Maud worked on for several seconds, still struggling against an uneasy -feeling of shyness. - -After a little, in a low voice she spoke again. "Jake, I think--with -you--that if Dr. Capper will examine Bunny and--and perhaps operate on -him, it had better be done--as soon as possible." - -"That so?" said Jake. - -She knew that he turned his head to look at her, and a hot sense of -discomfiture surged through her. She worked with fevered speed, as if -much depended upon it. - -"Of course--of course I want him to have--every chance. I am not so -selfish as that. But--but--the anxiety will be very hard to bear. I -dread it more than I can possibly say." - -Her lips quivered suddenly. She became silent, still desperately making -stitches that she could hardly see. She had not meant to make any appeal -for sympathy. It had, as it were, escaped her from sheer embarrassment. -She had never felt more utterly ill at ease in Jake's presence than she -felt that night. - -He did not immediately respond though she knew that he continued to -watch her with those lynx-like, brilliant eyes. But after a very decided -pause, his hand, square and steady, came forth and stopped her fevered -working. - -"Sit still for a bit, my girl!" he said. "Give yourself a rest!" - -She started sharply at his touch, but gave in at once, suffering him to -draw the work from her hands. - -"Say, now," he said, "when you married me, I made myself a vow that you -shouldn't be burdened any more beyond your strength. This anxiety you -speak of, will it be harder to bear than to see Bunny suffering and not -be able to help?" - -She shook her head. Her eyes were full of tears. - -"Guess you're overwrought," he said gently. "Why don't you lie down on -the sofa? P'raps you'd get a sleep." - -She mastered herself with an effort. "No, thank you. I am quite all -right. Of course Bunny's welfare comes before everything and always -will with me. Do you know, I think I will run up to him and see that he -has all he wants." - -"No, my girl, no! You stay where you are!" said Jake. "I've got him in -hand. Don't you go making more trouble!" - -She glanced at him with quick uneasiness. "But is he happy? Is he -comfortable? I never leave him for long when he is like this. Once he -dragged himself right out of bed and on to the floor. He was worse for -weeks after." - -"He won't do that to-night," said Jake. - -But she was not reassured. "He may. How can you tell? He can be quite -violent sometimes." - -"He won't be to-night," said Jake with unmistakable conviction. - -"What have you been doing to him?" she said, with quick suspicion. - -He put a restraining hand upon her for she seemed on the verge of -rising. "Now, don't you meddle!" he said. "The boy will be all right; -only leave him alone! He won't come to any mischief because he can't. -I've tied him down. No, he ain't uncomfortable," as she uttered a sharp -cry of protest. "I saw to that before I put out the light and left him -to come to his senses. He won't hurt, I tell you. You leave him -alone!" - -But Maud was already on her feet. "How could you?" she panted. "How -dare you?" - -He rose with her, still holding her. "Now be reasonable!" he said, in a -voice of soft persuasion. "I'm real fond of the little chap, and I'm -trying to make a man of him. He knows that all right. It's discipline -he wants and discipline he's going to have. Don't you get interfering! -You'll do more harm than good." - -"Let me go!" breathed Maud. - -She was white to the lips as she said it, white and desperate. Her eyes -burned like two stars. But Jake held her still. - -"Say, now!" he drawled. "Aren't you a bit unreasonable? I've taken a -lot of trouble to bring him into line. And, as I tell you, I haven't -hurt any part of him, except his pride, and that'll soon mend. Maud, my -girl, now don't act the fool! Don't, I say, don't!" - -She had made a sharp effort to wrest her arm free; but he frustrated it, -taking her two wrists very gently but very decidedly into his square -hold. - -"Let me go!" she cried again, her pale lips trembling. "How--how dare -you hold me against my will? Jake, you--forget yourself!" - -He was looking at her with a hint of humour in his red-brown eyes. They -were shining too, shining with a hot intensity, as though the leaping -flames of the fire were reflected there. But at her words, he let her -go very abruptly and turned from her. He took up his pipe again, -standing so that she saw only his broad back and gleaming hair, while -she waited behind him in palpitating silence. - -Some seconds passed before he spoke. And then: "All right, my girl," he -said. "Have it your own way! I reckon he's your brother more than -mine, and I know you have his welfare at heart. If you think it to his -interest to go and undo him--he ain't uncomfortable, mind you! I saw to -that--I shan't interfere either way. Do whatever seems good to you!" - -So he delivered himself, and having spoken sat squarely down and pulled -out his match-box as though the matter were at an end. - -She stood irresolute, facing him. - -"Well? Aren't you going?" he said, after a moment. - -And still she stood, feeling the strain to be past yet not daring to -relax her guard. - -Jake struck a match and held it to his pipe, looking at her whimsically -between great puffs of smoke. - -"There! Sit down!" he said, after a meanest. "Leave the child alone -for a bit! I'll go up to him myself before long." - -Casual as was his voice, the force of his personality reached and -dominated her. It was certainly not of her own volition that she -obeyed. - -She sat down again in the low chair before the hearth. "I know he will -have a bad night," she said uneasily. - -"It won't be any the worse for this," said Jake, with confidence. "And, -now, look here, my girl, I want to ask you something--just in a friendly -way." - -Maud's hands clasped each other hard. There was no repose in her -attitude. "What is it?" she asked, in that aloof voice of hers that -emanated from intense shyness rather than pride. - -Jake was smoking steadily. The heavy odour of his tobacco filled the -room. "I don't want to give any offence," he said. "But it seems to me -that Lord Saltash is on a footing of intimacy with you and Bunny that -rather points to your not knowing the sort of person he really is." - -Maud's eyes grew suddenly darker. She looked him full in the face. "I -know him too well to discuss him with any--outsider," she said. - -"That so?" said Jake, slightly drawling. "Well, that certainly makes -matters rather more complicated. I know him, too--awfully well,--so -well that I shall have to request you to keep the young man at a -respectful distance; for he certainly won't stay there if you don't." - -Maud sat tensely still. Several moments of utter silence passed away. -Then, almost under her breath, she spoke. "Are you absurd enough to be -jealous?" - -Jake's eyes watched her unwaveringly through the smoke. "Would it be -very absurd of me?" he asked gravely. - -"Utterly." She spoke the one word with a free disdain. - -He bent his head slightly. "Since you say so--it goes. At the same -time, it might be well for you to remember that Lord Saltash invariably -hunts for himself. He is not a man that any woman can safely trust. He -has his points, maybe, but--he is not sound." - -Very steadily he delivered his verdict, and Maud received it in unbroken -silence. More or less she knew it to be true, and yet very bitterly did -she resent its utterance. It was as if he had exposed to her the -worthlessness of a possession which for old sake's sake she treasured -though conscious that in itself it was without value. For she had never -idealized Charlie Burchester. Even in the old days of close intimacy -she had always seen the feet of clay, though in her fond woman's way she -had sought to overlook them. It was intolerable to have them pointed out -to her by one whom she still curiously regarded as a comparative -stranger. - -She had nothing to say on her friend's behalf. Reason warned her that -it would be useless to attempt to take up the cudgels in his defence. -And so she sat in silence, inwardly burning, outwardly calm. - -Jake smoked on for several minutes, then quietly rose. "I'll go up and -settle the youngster now," he said. "And you have made up your mind on -the other subject? I am to write to Capper?" - -She did not answer for a moment; her eyes were fixed upon the fire. - -He paused beside her, and again there came to her that sense of warmth, -of bodily force, that seemed to reach her from the very centre of the -man's being, rushing out to her, enveloping her. - -She made a slight, involuntary movement of withdrawal. "I have said so," -she said. - -He paused no longer. "Then so be it!" he said, and walked away to the -door. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - BROTHERS - - -"Is that you, Jake?" - -Outraged pride and sullen submission combined in the utterance of the -question. The room was in complete darkness. - -"Yes, it's me," said Jake. - -He went forward into the darkness, feeling out before him. - -"Why don't you strike a match?" said Bunny. - -Jake found the bed and stood beside it. "Going to behave yourself, my -son?" he asked. - -There was silence from the bed, a dogged, uncompromising silence. - -Jake stooped. Feeling over the boy's body, he began to undo his bonds. - -"Say, Bunny, I reckoned you were a bigger man than this," he said. - -Bunny remained silent, stiff and unyielding. - -Jake completed his task and stood up. "If you're wanting to tell me to -go to blazes, you may as well say it as not," he said. - -"I'm not," growled Bunny. "But you've no right to treat me like a dog. -I'm not used to it." - -"A damn' good hiding is what you're most in need of," said Jake, in his -soft, imperturbable voice. "You'd learn a lot that way. There's too -much pride in your family, my son, and it ain't always the proper sort -of pride either. It's likely to lead you into difficulties." He paused -a moment; then bent again, his hand moving lightly upwards over the -bedclothes. "Say, Bunny, climb down a bit; climb down!" he said. "I -can't get within a mile of you on that high horse of yours." - -There was a hint of coaxing in the words and action to which Bunny taken -by surprise made instant almost involuntary response. With a swift, -passionate movement, he caught the persuasive hand. - -"Old chap--" he said, and stopped, breaking off short. - -There followed a few, pulsing seconds, during which Jake's hand was -pressed hard against a burning face. Then, very suddenly Bunny cast his -pride wholly from him and burst into choking tears. - -"Little feller! Little feller!" said Jake, and gathered him into arms -that were full of motherly comfort. - -He sat down on the bed, so holding him, rocking him a little, soothing -him in the darkness that seemed to banish all barriers and link them in -a brotherhood more close than either had anticipated before that moment. - -Bunny's surrender was complete and unconditional. He clung fast to Jake -with whispered words of penitence. "I'm always like that when I feel -bad. I've had that filthy neuralgia in my back ever since tea. It -makes me want to bite and kick. I didn't mean to be a beast to you, -Jake. I take back all I said. You'll forget it--say you'll forget it!" - -"I have forgotten it," Jake assured him. "Don't you fret now!" - -Bunny burrowed into his shoulder. "You're so beastly good to a fellow. -But you're right--quite right--about the hiding. I only wish you could -give me one. It's just that I want." - -"No--no!" Jake said tenderly. "I wouldn't lay a finger on you." - -"You would if I were sound," protested Bunny, strangling a sob. - -But Jake shook his head. "No, sonny, no! I was wrong. It ain't the -treatment for a soft-hearted little chap like you. I've been used to -dealing with roughs, and I'm rough myself. I try not to be; but there -it is. You've sensed it, and so has Maud. But--I say it now, and I'll -stick to it--I'll never use violence to you as long as I live." - -"Jake, old boy, that's rot!--I--I like you to smack my head sometimes," -blurted forth Bunny, still in accents of distress. - -Jake laughed a little. "Well, maybe, I'll do that now and then, seeing -we're brothers." He was rubbing the head with a caressing hand as he -spoke. "You know, I've got a sort of liking for you, little pard; and I -want you to grow up a man." - -"How can I?" said Bunny very bitterly. - -"It ain't the body that makes the man," said Jake gently. "Physical -conditions don't matter two cents. Reckon if you were to be a cripple -all your days, you could still be a great man. But, please God, you -won't be a cripple always. My friend Capper--you've heard me talk of -him--he's coming over from the States, and maybe he'll be able to put -you right. We'll give him the chance, eh, Bunny? We'll get him anyway -to come along and look at you." - -Bunny's frail body had begun to tremble. He held very fast to Jake's -arm. "Oh, Jake!" he whispered. - -"Guess it's a big proposition," said Jake. "But you've got spunk for -anything. I'm going to send him a letter right away. Maud views the -matter as we do. She says, the sooner the better." - -"Whatever made her say that?" said Bunny curiously. - -"She was thinking of you," said Jake. "She thinks more of you than of -anyone else in the world. Reckon you owe her a mighty lot, Bunny. Ever -thought of that?" - -"Reckon she'd be rather lost without me," said Bunny perversely. - -"Not for long," said Jake. - -"She would," persisted Bunny. "If I were to get well, she'd be glad for -my sake, but she'd be utterly miserable for her own." - -He spoke with the shrewdness that years of passive observation had -wrought in him--a shrewdness that somehow lifted him above the plane of -ordinary unthinking boyhood. Almost instinctively Jake responded to it. -He spoke to Bunny as though he had been a man. - -"She won't be miserable when she has children of her own to look after," -he said. "That's what she wants, and what I want too. They'll make all -the difference in the world to her." - -Bunny was momentarily surprised. This was a possibility that had not -occurred to him. "Oh, that's the idea, is it?" he said. - -"What's the matter with it?" said Jake. - -"I don't know," said Bunny. "Somehow I don't seem to realize that she -actually is married to you." - -"She doesn't realize it either," said Jake rather shortly. - -"That's because you don't make love to her," said Bunny wisely. "Why, -you don't even kiss her, do you?" - -"I haven't." Jake's voice was an odd compound of humour and -dissatisfaction. - -"Why on earth don't you?" said Bunny. - -"You'd better ask her," said Jake somewhat grimly. - -"Aren't you friends?" There was quick sympathy in the boy's voice. "I -know Maud is a bit difficult to get on with. She was very odd even to -Charlie this evening when he wanted us to go to the races with him. Why -shouldn't we have gone, Jake? She knew I wanted to, and she used to -like it herself." - -An echo of resentment sounded in the question. Bunny had plainly not -wholly buried his grievance. - -"I'll take you one day, my son, when you're stronger," Jake promised. -"And Maud too--if she's keen. I didn't know she was. She didn't tell -me so." - -"She doesn't tell you everything, does she?" said Bunny, giving him a -squeeze. - -"Reckon she's half afraid of me," said Jake. "What reason did she give -for not going with Lord Saltash?" - -"Oh, none. She just said we couldn't. Charlie wasn't best pleased -about it. Charlie can be rather hot stuff when he isn't pleased." - -Jake uttered a dry laugh. "Did he make himself unpleasant?" - -"No. But he cleared out almost at once. You see, he always used to be -able to twist Maud round his little finger--till she broke with him." - -Jake's arms suddenly grew tense about the slim boyish body he held. -"Say, young feller! Will you tell me something?" he said. - -"Of course! If I can," said Bunny. - -"Just this--only this," said Jake, his voice sunk to a whisper. "Have -you any real reason--any good reason--for believing that Maud still -cares for this old flame of hers? Honestly now! Was there any truth in -what you said downstairs?" - -"Oh, Jake, I'm beastly sorry I said it!" Bunny turned a distressed face -upwards, pressing his hot forehead hard against Jake's neck. - -"All right. You needn't answer." Jake's words seemed to come from -between his teeth. "It's what I suspected all along. It won't make any -difference in the end, so you needn't be upset about it. I always knew -I was taking chances." - -"She'd soon forget him if you started making love to her," Bunny assured -him. "Why don't you, Jake? Why don't you?" - -"Ah! Why don't I?" Jake uttered again his dry, somewhat scoffing -laugh. "P'raps I'm waiting for someone else to make the running. But -don't you bother your head about that, my son! I shall get home on the -straight--or perish in the attempt." - -He stooped, and laid Bunny gently down on the pillows. - -"I'll light your lamp now and leave you. Maud will be up with your -supper directly." - -But Bunny clung to his arm. "You'll come back, Jake? You--you'll sleep -with me?" - -"Oh, yes, I'll sleep with you--if Maud will let me." Jake's voice held -ironic humour. "But it's a sore point, I warn you." - -"Of course she'll let you. She can't help herself. She knows I'm ten -times more comfortable with you to look after me. It's jolly decent of -you, Jake." Bunny hugged the arm a little closer. "Sure you've -forgiven me for being such a beast?" - -"Shucks, lad! Don't think any more about it! We're all beasts -sometimes, though we don't all take the trouble to be sorry afterwards." -Jake stooped abruptly and kissed his forehead--a token received by Bunny -with a satisfaction as great as his surprise. "Be decent to Maud, -little chap!" he said. "Remember, nearly the whole of her life has been -one big sacrifice to you!" - -"Oh, I know she's a brick," Bunny said quickly. "I'm awfully fond of -her of course. You--I suppose you're fond of her too, Jake?" - -He put the question with slight hesitation, not wholly certain as to -whether Jake would welcome it, yet oddly desirous of a reply. - -Jake had withdrawn his arm. He stood by the bed in the darkness, only -dimly visible to Bunny--a square, powerful figure, of rock-like -strength, endued with the hard endurance that springs in the wilderness -and is the natural heritage of beasts and savage tribes, coming but -seldom upon the sons of adoption. - -He did not speak at all for several seconds, and Bunny began to wonder -if he had given offence. Then suddenly he stretched out his arms with a -wide, fierce gesture as of one who would seize and hold in the face of -any odds. - -"My God!" he said, and in his voice was a deep throb as of a force that -rose unfettered from the very heart of the man. "I--worship her!" - -In the awed silence that followed the words, his arms fell. He stood a -second or two as one in a dream striving to grip afresh the realities of -life. Then, quite calmly he turned aside and crossed the room to light -the lamp. - -Bunny, watching him, marvelled that the kindling flame revealed only the -resolute face and steady eyes of the man he knew. For it seemed to him -that another man had spoken in the darkness. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - MISADVENTURE - - -Lord Saltash had the satisfaction of seeing one of his own animals a -winner at the Graydown meeting on the following day, a circumstance -which plainly gave him the keenest pleasure. He joined his trainer at -the conclusion of the event and warmly congratulated him. - -Jake was himself well-pleased. He had worked hard for the victory, and -the horse was a particular favourite with him. But he did not betray -any especial gratification at his patron's openly expressed approval, -receiving it with the reticence that Maud had remarked in him the day -before. - -Lord Saltash, however, seemed bent upon breaking down all reserve. He -treated him with easy familiarity, chatted upon a thousand subjects, -received suggestions with cordiality, and finally, when the races were -over, insisted upon motoring him home in the open car which he -invariably drove himself when at Burchester, and which was the terror of -the countryside. - -The evening was chill and mist-laden. "With your permission we'll go -steady," Jake said, as they left the teeming race-course behind. - -"What! Nervous?" laughed Saltash. - -"I have a wife to think of," was Jake's unmoved reply. - -"Oh, to be sure!" A hint of mockery ran through the words. "What an -artful fox you were to go and get married on the sly like that! If I'd -known, I'd have come to the wedding." - -"It wasn't much of an affair," said Jake. "And it had to take place at -short notice, or I should have told you about it." - -"Perhaps it wouldn't have taken place at all if you had," laughed Lord -Saltash. "You know the legend of Young Lochinvar. And--" his dark face -screwed up into a comic grimace--"I presume you know my reputation." - -"Almost as well as I know you, my lord," said Jake drily. - -Saltash sent him a sharp glance through the gathering twilight. He was -driving swiftly but well. "Nobody ever really knows anybody in this -world of noughts and crosses," he observed lightly after a moment. -"It's a queer place, Bolton. And it isn't always the fellows that -gather the fruit that enjoy the eating thereof. Ever reflected on that -truism?" - -"I reckon it couldn't apply to me in any case," drawled Jake, turning up -his collar and settling into it with square deliberation. - -"Because you're one of the favoured few?" questioned Saltash. - -There was an unmistakably jeering note in his voice this time. A faint -smile came into Jake's face. His eyes stared straight before him. - -"Maybe so," he said. "But my opinion is, if a man can't hold his -own,--well, he deserves to lose it." - -Saltash laughed aloud. "It isn't always brute force that counts, most -worthy cow-puncher. There is such a thing as brains." - -"You don't say!" said Jake in a tone of gentle incredulity and, in a -moment: "Do you mind reining in a bit? We're coming to a cross-roads." - -"You're mighty nervous!" gibed Saltash. - -"It's safer," said Jake imperturbably. - -They dropped into silence with one consent. - -Saltash was obviously inclined to recklessness though he seemed for -awhile to be trying to restrain the impulse. They shot through the -gathering darkness with ever-increasing speed. - -Jake made no further protest. He sat sphinx-like, gazing straight ahead -through the misty wind-screen. The distance from Graydown to -Fairharbour was scarcely ten miles. Lord Saltash chose the shortest -route, bumping through bye lanes, whizzing round unexpected corners, -shooting uphill like a rocket, dropping down again like a thunderbolt. - -He drove with a skill that was in its way magnificent, but the entire -run was a series of risks such as only the driver could enjoy. - -It was evident that he speedily forgot the presence of his companion, -and Jake did not remind him of it. Perhaps he deemed it inadvisable to -divert his attention in any way from the task in hand. - -For nearly a quarter of an hour of rapid travelling he spoke no word. -Saltash was humming to himself an old tune with a waltz refrain which -seemed to give him considerable pleasure. - -They were drawing near the outskirts of Burchester Park when abruptly he -broke off, and spoke. "I want you to come up to lunch on Sunday, you -and Maud and the boy." - -He spoke jerkily, almost curtly. Jake turned his head. - -"Have you put the proposition before--my wife?" he asked. - -"Oh, I asked her to come of course," said Saltash carelessly. "I didn't -mention any particular day. Why? Have you any reason to suppose she -would refuse?" - -He laughed as he said it, but there was a challenging note in his laugh. - -Jake passed the question by. "It is real kind of your lordship to think -of it," he said. "I can't--of course--answer for my wife or the lad; -but I shall be very pleased to come." - -Saltash made a curious sound half of ridicule, half of exasperation. -"If she doesn't come, I shall know whose doing it is," he said, with a -touch of malice. - -Jake was silent. - -Impatiently Saltash turned towards him. "Look here, Bolton," he said -aggressively; "it's no manner of use your raising any objection to the -intimacy between us. It began long before you came on the scene, and -it's going to continue. Understand?" - -"Look where you're going!" said Jake. "Or else jam on the brake!" - -He uttered the words with a sharpness so unexpected that Saltash -started. As a consequence, the car swerved and instantly skidded in the -mud, jerking the wheel from his hold. In a moment they were half-way up -a steep bank at the side of the road, and a moment after with a crash of -splintering glass they were over, flung headlong into the roadway. - -"Damn!" said Jake. - -"Damnation!" cried Lord Saltash with violence. "It was your fault! -What the devil did you startle me like that for?"; - -He sprang up with the agility of a monkey, unscathed and furious. - -Jake remained seated in the mud. He was panting a little but his speech -when it came was unhurried. - -"What the blazes did you want to drive at that preposterous speed for, -you all-fired fool?" he said. - -"Eh? What?" Saltash stamped in the mud to relieve his feelings. "Do -you dare to say it was my fault?" - -"I say you're an all-fired fool," said Jake, with the deliberation of -one who has come to an unalterable decision. "You can draw your own -conclusions from that." - -He proceeded to get up with an effort so obvious that Saltash's -attention was caught. "Hullo! You're hurt, are you? Where?" - -"I reckon that's what I've got to find out," said Jake. "Maybe it's no -worse than a broken head. What about you?" - -"Oh, I'm all right," Saltash declared impatiently. "I say, are you -really hurt, man? Curse this dark! Wait while I strike a match!" - -"Curse everything!" said Jake whole-heartedly. "I wonder if there's a -lamp not smashed." - -Saltash struck a match and regarded him by its flare. "Great Scott!" he -ejaculated in dismay. - -For the illumination had revealed to him that which he had certainly not -expected to see; one side of Jake's face streaming with blood. - -Jake strove ineffectually to staunch the flow with a handkerchief. "I -don't know where the mischief is exactly," he said. "Somewhere above -the temple, I fancy. Don't alarm yourself, my lord. I always bleed -like a pig. It's my nature to." - -A faint grim smile drew his mouth with the words. He looked at Saltash -with eyes of steady mastery. "Let me hold that match!" he said. -"P'raps you wouldn't mind locating the mischief." - -Saltash, genuinely disturbed, complied with this suggestion, and -discovered a deep, jagged cut on Jake's forehead. - -"I say, this is a bad business!" he said, as the match went out. "Are -you feeling bad?" - -"Oh, not in the least," said Jake drily. "Sorry to give you so much -trouble." - -"My dear fellow, I'm sorrier than you are," declared Saltash -impulsively. "I've driven for ten years and never had a smash before. -Here, strike another match and let me see what I can do!" - -It was no easy matter to bandage adequately under sock conditions, but -Saltash was not without a certain rudimentary skill. He went to work -with business-like promptitude, and had succeeded in securing a -handkerchief round Jake's head with a firmness calculated at least to -check the flow of blood when the sound of wheels warned them of the -approach of some vehicle. - -It proved to be the dog-cart of a farmer known to them both who was -himself returning from the races; and Saltash was relieved beyond -measure to bundle Jake into the cart and see him depart for home. He -remained with the overturned car till help should arrive from the -Stables. - -Jake also was not sorry to find himself jogging homeward, unpleasant -though he found the jogging to be. He was nearer to collapse than he -would have allowed. - -He sat with his head in his hands, struggling desperately against a -deadly sense of weakness that threatened every instant to overcome him. - -His companion was full of solicitude. "Whatever will your missus say?" -he said, as they drew near the Stables. - -Jake roused himself. "Don't drive in!" he said. "Put me down at the -gates! I must make myself respectable before I go in." - -"Lor' bless you man, if she's a woman of sense she'd sooner know the -worst at once," declared the old farmer. "Don't ever try to hide -anything from your wife! It don't pay. I've been married three times, -so I ought to know." - -But Jake adhered firmly to his intention of descending at the gates, -resolutely declining all further help; and there his friend left him, -driving away with the reflection that there was sure to be someone about -to give him a hand. - -As it chanced, there was no one in the stable-yard when Jake entered it. -He staggered forward over the stones like a drunken man, his cap pulled -forward over his face, feeling vaguely out before him with his hands. -His brain was reeling, and he did not know how he covered the ground or -maintained his balance. So dazed was he that he did not even realize -that he reached the white railings before his home, and only awoke to -the fact when he had been leaning upon them for some time. - -With an immense effort he pulled himself together and made his way to -the door. Here the thought of Maud made him pause. She must not see -him like this. Then, reflecting that she would almost certainly be safe -upstairs with Bunny who had not left his room that day, he fumbled with -the door, opened it, and entered. - -All was quiet within with the quiet of a well-ordered household. The -passage was dimly lit. Slowly he made his halting way along it, reached -the stairs and stopped at the foot, leaning on the banisters while he -summoned his strength. At last, heavily, like a man in a trance, he -began to mount. - -The stairs seemed endless. Once or twice he stumbled. At the top he -slipped and came down upon his knees. - -"Oh damn!" he ejaculated, with weary vehemence. - -At the same moment Bunny's door opened, and he heard the light tread of -a woman's feet close to him. - -She was coming towards him, moving swiftly, when suddenly something -seemed to strike her. She stopped dead, recoiling as from a thing -unclean. - -"Jake!" she said. - -He heard the frozen horror in her voice and thrust out a groping hand. -"It's all right, my girl. Don't be scared! I didn't mean you to see -me--like this." - -She drew back from him sharply, speaking no word, gazing at him in the -dim light with eyes of wide abhorrence. - -"It's--all right," he said again, and with a labouring effort managed to -blunder to his feet. - -She drew back still further. He saw her slim white figure standing -before him erect and rigid against the wall. He caught the blazing scorn -of her blue eyes. - -"Say, Maud," he said in confused apology, "you're looking kind of vexed. -It wasn't--any fault of mine. It was--it was--that fool--Saltash." He -spoke the name with difficulty. His tongue felt dry and powerless. -"Guess I want a drink," he said. - -She spoke then, briefly and witheringly. "You had better go to bed and -stay there till you feel better. There is plenty of water in your room -if you want it." - -Her words were icy. He felt as if she had flung the water of which she -spoke full in his face. And then suddenly the truth flashed upon him, -and he uttered a laugh. - -"Columbus!" he said. "I believe you think I'm tipsy!" - -She did not attempt to contradict him. "You had better go to bed," she -reiterated. - -He put up a trembling hand, but it was only to draw the cap down further -still over his face. "I reckon I'd better," he said, and staggered past -her to his room. - -The door closed behind him, and Maud turned, white and quivering, from -the scene. - -"O God!" she whispered passionately. "What have I done? What have I -done?" - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - THE WORD UNSPOKEN - - -It was late that night when Mrs. Lovelace called Maud out of Bunny's -room with a white, scared face to tell her that Lord Saltash was below -asking for her. - -"He wanted Mr. Bolton first," she said, "but I told him as I didn't know -if he was back, and then he said something about a slight motor accident -and seemed surprised like that Mr. Bolton hadn't come home." - -"It's all right. He is home," Maud said. "There is no need to be -anxious about him." She hesitated a moment; then: "Tell Lord Saltash -so!" she said. "I think I won't come down now. He will understand." - -Nevertheless, after she had dismissed the old woman, something prompted -her to go and listen at Jake's door. She was convinced in her own mind -that there had been no accident. Charlie had seen her husband's -condition and was anxious to know if he had returned home safely. That -was the explanation, doubtless, and she felt she could not face him. - -She listened intently, but she heard no sound. Jake was sleeping no -doubt, sleeping heavily. An overwhelming disgust came upon her. She -turned shuddering away. - -Mrs. Lovelace came wheezing back. Lord Saltash had gone. Was Mr. -Bolton all right? Should she fetch him anything? - -No, Maud was quite sure he wanted nothing. He was asleep and Mrs. -Lovelace had better go to bed. - -But she herself remained up till long after, in dread of a summons for -Jake from Sam Vickers or some other of the men at the Stables. Probably -they all suspected what had happened, but she felt that at all costs she -must prevent the shameful certainty reaching them. It was too horrible, -too lowering to her own personal pride. Very strangely it was that -overpowering sense of shame that first made her realize the man as her -husband. He had dragged her into the mire, and though her whole soul -revolted she felt with a sinking despair that she could never be clean -again. She was bound to him for better for worse, and nothing could -ever set her free. She was, as it were, identified with him, and the -evil of his nature must lie upon her like a taint. There could be no -escape for her, loathe him as she might. - -She lay down at last sick at heart and full of a great bitterness. Life -was horrible, life was repulsive. Whichever way she turned some evil -monster crouched across her path. - -Bunny was restless and querulous throughout the night. He was deeply -hurt by Jake's desertion, and, though he forebore to say so, he plainly -regarded his sister as a very poor substitute. - -"I shan't get up till Jake comes to see me," he announced in the -morning. - -And Maud went down to fetch his breakfast with a reluctant promise to -inform Jake of this intention if she saw him. - -She hoped very earnestly that she would not see him, but her hope was -not to be fulfilled. Coming from the kitchen with Bunny's -breakfast-tray, she almost ran into him. He had evidently just entered -the house, and was hanging up his cap on the rack that stood in the -darkest corner of the passage. - -He stood back for her to pass him. "Good morning!" he said. - -Her face was burning. So great was her agitation for the moment that -she thought she must drop the tray she held. - -Jake evidently thought so too, for he reached out and steadily took it -from her. "I'll take up this," he said. "I want to see the little -chap. Do you mind going into the parlour? I shall be down directly." - -He spoke in his customary slightly sing-song drawl. She longed to -refuse, but could not. With an inarticulate murmur she turned aside. - -In the parlour the fire burned brightly. She went and stood before it, -striving desperately for composure. She would have given all she had to -escape the coming interview. But she knew she could not, knew she must -face it, listen to semi-humorous excuses, possibly a good-natured -apology for an offence which she regarded as inexcusable, hideous. - -With all her strength she fought for self-control. She must make it -clear to him, must somehow make him understand that this thing had -raised up a barrier between them that could never be broken down, an -immovable obstacle to all intimacy, a perpetual stumbling-block to -friendship. He had brought it on himself and never--never--never could -it now be otherwise. They had never been very near, but now they were -as far asunder as the poles. No kindness from him could ever make her -forget. - -She heard him descending the stairs, and braced herself with a throbbing -heart to meet him. But she was trembling in every limb. - -She did not turn to greet him as he entered, but kept her face -resolutely averted. - -He came in, closed the door with evident purpose, and drew near to her. -She shrank at his coming. A quick involuntary shudder went through her. -She stiffened herself instinctively. - -He spoke, in his voice a soft, half-wheedling note of remonstrance. -"Say, Maud, it ain't--altogether--reasonable to condemn a man unheard." - -Her breath came short. She would not look at him. With a quivering -effort she spoke. "I don't see any point in discussing the obvious. I -am bound to believe the evidence of my own eyes." - -"Without doubt," conceded Jake. "And they testified to my being screwed -last night?" - -"You can't--with truth--assert that you were sober," she said. - -Jake did not make the assertion. He stood considering. After a moment: -"Do you object so strongly to the sight of me that you can't bear to -look at me?" he asked. - -His tone was faintly humorous. She resented it on the instant, hotly, -almost fiercely. It was so exactly the attitude that she had -anticipated. - -"I do object--yes," she said, her voice low and vehement. "I can't think -how you can have the effrontery to speak to me until I give you leave." - -"That so?" he said. - -There was insolence in his tone this time. She turned and faced him. -Then she saw a large cross of strapping-plaster across his temple. She -looked at it a moment ere defiantly she met his eyes. - -"I suppose you are going to make that your excuse," she said. - -"I was," said Jake imperturbably. - -She bit her lip. His utter lack of shame made her pitiless. "If I -hadn't met you on the stairs last night, I might believe you," she said. - -"You're real kind," he rejoined. "As a matter of fact I didn't cut my -head open tumbling upstairs, but I reckon that detail won't interest -you. You'll think what you want to think, whatever I say. And p'raps, -as you say, there's not much point in discussing the obvious. Shall we -have some breakfast?" - -His eyes shone with a mocking gleam into hers. She was sure he was -laughing inwardly, though his mouth was grim. - -"I shall breakfast upstairs," she said coldly. - -He made a slight movement that passed unexplained. "Oh, I think not," he -said suavely. "It won't hurt you any to sit at table with me. I am a -very ordinary sinner, I assure you." - -Something in his tone made her flinch. The colour went out of her face. -She turned without a word to the table. - -They sat down, and he helped her to food, she knew not what. There -followed a silence that she felt to be terrible, a silence through which -it came to her for the first time in her experience that Jake was angry. -She looked at him no longer, but she felt as if his eyes were upon her -unceasingly. - -"What about coffee, Mrs. Bolton?" he said suddenly. - -She gave a great start. The coffee-urn was in front of her. She -proceeded to pour out for him, the cup clattering in the saucer she -held. - -He did not move to take it; she rose, as if compelled, and carried it to -him. - -As she set it down, his hand suddenly descended upon hers. He looked up -into her face, faintly smiling. - -"Maud, my girl, don't be such a fool!" he said. "Can't you see you're -making a mistake?" - -She froze in his grasp. "Don't touch me, please!" she said. -"You--I--see things from a different standpoint. It may seem a small -matter to you, but to me--to me--" She stopped. "Let me go!" she said, -with a nervous effort to free herself. - -But he held her still. "Say, now, do you think you're wise to treat me -like this?" he said. "You've got to put up with me, remember. Wouldn't -it be to your own interest to give me the benefit of the doubt?" - -"There is no doubt," she said, speaking quickly, breathlessly. "You -haven't tried to deny it. As to--to--putting up with you--" the hand he -held clenched convulsively--"I have a little self-respect----" - -"Call it pride!" interjected Jake softly. - -She looked at him with eyes of burning revolt. "Very well. Call it -pride! And understand that if this shameful thing ever occurs again, -neither Bunny nor I can stay with you any longer!" - -Quiveringly the words rushed out. He had goaded her into uttering an -ultimatum that she had never contemplated addressing to him at the -commencement of the interview and the moment that she had uttered it she -knew that she had done wrong. The red-brown eyes uplifted to hers -suddenly kindled. He looked at her with a fiery intensity that sent the -blood to her heart in a wave of wild dismay. - -His hand closed like a steel spring upon her wrist. "So, you think -you'll make a fool of me!" he said, and in his voice there sounded a -deep note that was like the menace of an angry beast. "All right, my -girl! You just try it! You'll find it an interesting experiment if a -bit costly." - -"Are you--coward enough--to threaten me?" she said, through panting -lips. - -"Reckon you've done all the threatening this journey," Jake rejoined, -with a smile that made her shiver. "It wasn't exactly a wise move on -your part, but p'raps you'll think better of it presently." - -He let her go, with the words, and she went back to her place, outwardly -calm, inwardly shaking. - -Jake proceeded with his breakfast in a silence so absorbed that it was -almost as if he had forgotten her presence altogether. It was never a -lengthy meal with him. He ate and drank with business-like rapidity, -not noticing that she did neither. - -Finally he rose. "I shall come in presently to see if Bunny wants to -come down," he said. "But the little chap doesn't look up to much this -morning. He'll have to take it easy." - -Maud did not respond. She sat rigidly gazing towards the window. - -Jake stood a moment, waiting for her to turn, but she made no movement. -He came quietly round to her, bent over her chair. - -"Say, Maud, you aren't going to keep it up? That's not like you. I'll -tell you all that happened last night if you'll listen." - -She made a slight gesture of distaste. Her face was white and cold as -marble. "I would rather not hear, thank you," she said, without looking -at him. "I would rather you went away." - -Jake stood up. There was no longer any suggestion of anger or any other -emotion about him. His eyes glittered like red quartz in the sun; but -his brow was absolutely unruffled. - -"Well," he said, in a very pronounced drawl, "I should have some -breakfast if I were you, and see how I felt then. It's wonderful what a -difference breakfast makes." - -He turned away with the words; she heard him go with relief. - -On the other side of the door was the red setter, Chops. He pushed his -way in with a passing smile at his master, who had conferred the freedom -of the house upon him since Bunny's advent, to Mrs. Lovelace's prim -disgust. - -Jake made no attempt to hinder his entrance. He knew that Chops -possessed privileges of friendship denied to himself. He closed the -door upon him and departed. - -Chops, after a cursory glance round for Bunny, came to the feet of his -mistress. He looked at her with soft, questioning eyes, then, as she -made no response, sat gravely down before her and rested his red, silken -head upon her lap. - -She looked down at him then. Her hand went forth to caress. He -snuggled closer, sensing trouble, and breathed wistful greetings through -his nose. His eyes, clear brown and full of love, looked up to hers. - -The rigidity went out of her attitude. She bent suddenly over him and -kissed him, touched by the honest devotion and sympathy of those eyes. -By the simple method of offering all he had, Chops had managed to convey -a little comfort to her soul. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - THE TOKEN - - -"Why wouldn't you see me last night?" said Saltash. - -He sat on the corner of the table, swinging a careless leg the while -under quizzical brows he watched Maud arrange a great bunch of violets -in a bowl. The violets were straight from the Burchester frames, and he -had ridden over to present them. - -Maud was plainly in a reticent mood. She had accepted the gift indeed, -but with somewhat distant courtesy. - -"It was late," she said. "And I was attending to Bunny." - -"Bunny!" He echoed the name with half-mocking surprise. "Does he still -engross the whole of your energies? I thought you would have been more -occupied with Jake." - -She stiffened ever so slightly at his words. "I only saw him for a few -moments," she said. - -"What! Didn't he come to you to tie up his broken head?" said Saltash. -"I nearly killed him, you know. But it was his own fault." - -"I am aware of that," Maud said coldly. - -"What!" ejaculated Saltash again. "Did he have the impertinence to tell -you so?" - -She raised her eyes momentarily; they shone almost black. "He told -me--nothing," she said, her voice deep with a concentrated bitterness -that made him stare. "He was not in a condition to do so." - -Saltash continued to stare. "He was talkative enough when he left me," -he remarked. - -Her eyes gazed full into his. "Why should you try to deceive me?" she -said. "Really, you needn't take the trouble." - -Comprehension dawned on his face. He laughed a little in an amused -fashion as if to himself. "What! Wasn't the rascal sober when he got -back?" - -"You know he was not," she said. - -"I know he tumbled out of the car and cracked his head," said Saltash. -"I daresay he'd been celebrating the Mascot's victory. They all do, you -know. But, my dear girl, what of it? Don't look so tragic! You'll get -used to it." - -"Don't!" Maud said suddenly in a voice that shook. "You make me--sick." - -She bent her face swiftly to the violets, and there was a silence. - -Saltash continued to swing his leg, his lips pursed to am inaudible -whistle. Suddenly he spoke. "Please remember that this is quite -unofficial! I don't want a row with Jake!" - -"You needn't be afraid," she said, putting the bowl of violets steadily -from her. "No more will be said on the subject by either of us." - -"I'm not afraid." Saltash was looking at her hard, with a certain -curiosity. "But with my best friend tied to him for life, it -wouldn't--naturally--be to my interest to quarrel with him." - -She flashed him a sudden glance. "I think you had better not call me -that, Charlie," she said. - -He laughed carelessly. "I'll call you my dearest enemy, if you like. -It would be almost as near the mark." - -She was silent. - -He bent suddenly towards her, the laugh gone from his face. "Maud," he -said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice, "you're not wanting -to throw me over?" - -She shook her head very slightly. "I can't be on really intimate terms -with you any more," she said. "You must see it's impossible." - -"No, I don't," he said. "Why is it impossible?" - -She did not answer. - -"Come," he said. "That's unreasonable. What have I done to forfeit -your friendship?" - -She leaned slowly back in her chair, and met his eyes. "I am quite -willing to be friends," she said. "But--now that I am married--you -mustn't try to flirt with me. I detest married women's flirtations." - -He made a wry grimace. "My precious prude, you don't even know the -meaning of the word. Did you ever flirt with anyone in all your pure, -sweet life? The bare idea is ludicrous." - -Maud's eyes held his with severity. "No, I never flirted with you, -Charlie," she said. "But I gave you privileges which I can never give -again, which you must never again expect of me. Is that quite clear?" - -He stooped towards her, his hands upon her shoulders; his dark face -deeply glowing. "O Maud, the sincere!" he said, in a voice that -vibrated with an odd intensity, half-fierce, half-feigned. "Dare you -look me in the face and tell me that in marrying you have not done -violence to your soul?" - -She looked him in the face with absolute steadiness. "I have nothing -whatever to tell you," she said. - -He released as suddenly as he had taken her. "There is no need," he -said. "I can read you like a book. I know that if I had been at hand -when your mother brought you down here--as heaven knows I would have -been if I had known--if I had guessed--you would have been ready enough -to marry even me." He stopped, and over his ugly, comic face there came -a strangely tragic look. "You could have dictated your own terms too," -he said. "I'm not hard to please." - -"Charlie, hush!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "That is a forbidden -subject. I told you definitely long ago that I could never marry you. -You know as well as I do that it wouldn't have answered. You would have -tired very quickly of my prim ways--just as you did tire in the old days -when you fancied you cared for me. I couldn't have satisfied you. I am -not the kind of woman you crave for." - -"No?" He laughed whimsically. "Yet, you know, you are unjust to -me--always were. I don't know that you can help it, being what you are. -But--if it had been my good luck to marry you--I would have been -faithful to you. It's in my bones to be faithful to one woman. However, -since she is denied me--" he snapped his fingers with an airy -gesture--"_je m'amuse autrement_. By the way, are you coming up to -lunch at the Castle on Sunday?" - -"I?" She raised her brows momentarily. "No, I don't think so," she -said. - -"What! You won't? Jake's coming." - -She lowered her eyes. "No, Charlie," she said firmly. "Bunny has had -one of his bad attacks. He won't be well enough for any excitement, and -of course I couldn't dream of leaving him." - -"How you do worship that boy!" said Saltash, with a touch of impatience. - -Maud was silent. - -"Look here!" he said abruptly. "Why don't you have a proper opinion for -Bunny? I'll lend you the wherewithal. I'm quite well off just now." - -She looked up then with eyes of frank gratitude. "Charlie, that's more -than kind of you! But as a matter of fact--Jake has the matter in hand. -He knows an American surgeon--a very clever man--a Dr. Capper, who is -coming to England soon. And he is going to get him to come and examine -Bunny. He--it is really very good of Jake." - -She spoke haltingly, with flushed cheeks. Saltash was watching her with -critical eyes. - -"Oh, so the worthy Jake has the matter in hand, has he?" he said, as she -paused. "Wise man! I suppose it is no part of his plans to be hampered -with a helpless brother-in-law all his days." - -She broke in upon him swiftly. "Charlie! That is ungenerous!" - -He laughed. "My dear girl, it is the obvious. Were I in Jake's -position, my first thought would be to relieve you of the all-engrossing -care of Bunny. You don't suppose he married you just to make a home for -Bunny, do you?" - -She rose quickly and turned from him. "Why do you try to make things -harder for me?" she said in a voice of passionate protest. - -Saltash remained seated, still swinging an idle leg. "On the contrary, -I am anxious to make everything as pleasant as possible," he said. - -But there was a slightly malicious twist to his smile and his voice was -suavely mocking, notwithstanding. - -Maud moved from him to the window and stood before it very still, with a -queenly pose of bearing wholly unconscious, unapproachably aloof. - -He watched her for a space, an odd, dancing gleam in his strange eyes. -At length, as she made no movement, he spoke again, not wholly lightly. - -"See here, Maud! As a proof of my goodness of heart where you are -concerned, I am going to make you an offer. This doctor man will -probably want to perform an operation on Bunny, and it couldn't possibly -take place here. So if it comes to that, will you let it be done at the -Castle? There's room for an army of nurses there. The whole place is -at your disposal--and Bunny's. And I'll undertake not to get in the -way. Come, be friends with me! You know I am as harmless as a dove in -your sweet company." - -He stood up with the words, came impulsively to her, took her hand and, -bending with a careless grace, kissed it. - -She started at his touch, seemed as it were to emerge from an evil -dream. She met his laughing eyes, and smiled as though in spite of -herself. - -"You are going to be friends with me," said Saltash, with pleased -conviction. - -She left her hand in his. "If you don't suggest--impossible things," -she said. - -He laughed carelessly, satisfied that he had scored a point. "Nonsense! -Why should I? Is life so hard?" - -"I think it is," she said sadly. - -"It's only your point of view," he said. "Don't take things too -seriously! And above all, stick to your friends!" - -She looked at him very earnestly. "Will you be a true friend to me, -Charlie?" - -He bent, pressing her hand to his heart. "None so true as I!" he said. - -She caught back a sigh. "I want a friend--terribly," she said. - -"Behold me!" said Saltash. - -She drew her hand slowly from him. "But don't make love to me!" she -urged pleadingly. "Not even in jest! Let me trust you! Let me lean on -you! Don't--don't trifle with me! I can't bear it!" - -Her voice trembled suddenly. Her eyes filled with tears. - -Saltash made a quick gesture as if something had hurt him. "I am not -always trifling when I jest," he said. "That is the mistake you always -made." - -Maud was silent, struggling for self-command. Yet after a moment she -gave him her hand again in mute response to his protest. - -He took it, held it a moment or two, then let it go. - -"And you will consider my suggestion with regard to Bunny," he said. - -She replied with an effort, "Yes, I will consider it." - -"Good!" he said. "Talk it over with Jake! If he doesn't view it -reasonably, send him to me! But I think he will, you know. I think he -will." - -He turned as if to go; but paused and after a moment turned back. With -an air half-imperious, half-whimsical, he held out upon the palm of his -hand the sapphire and diamond ring which till that moment he had worn. - -"As a token of the friendship between us," he said, "will you take this -back? No, don't shake your head! It means nothing. But I wish you to -have it, and--if ever the need should arise--the need of a friend, -remember!--send it to me!" - -She looked at him with serious eyes. "Charlie, I would rather not." - -"It isn't sentiment," he said, with a quick lift of the brows. "It is a -token--just a token whereby you may test my friendship." Then, as she -still stood dubious: "Here, take it! He is coming." - -He almost thrust it upon her, and wheeled round. She did not want to -take it, but the thing was in her hand. Her fingers closed upon it -almost mechanically as Jake opened the door, and as they did so she was -conscious of a great flood of colour that rose and covered face and -neck. She turned her back to the light as one ashamed. - -Jake came in slowly, as if weary. - -Saltash greeted him with airy nonchalance. "Hullo, Bolton! I came -round to enquire for you. How's the broken crown?" - -Jake's eyes regarded him, bright, unswervingly direct. "I reckon that -was real kind of your lordship," he said. "I had it stitched this -morning. I am sorry I omitted to send help along last night." - -Saltash laughed. "Oh, that's all right. I hardly expected it of you. -As a matter of fact the car didn't turn over as you supposed. I soon -righted her. You were a bit damaged, eh?" - -Jake's eyes were still upon him. There was something formidable in -their straight survey. "So the car didn't turn over," he said, after a -moment. - -"No. If you'd hung on a bit tighter, you wouldn't have been pitched -out. Old Harris brought you safe home, did he? No further mishaps by -the way?" - -"None," said Jake. He advanced into the room, and stopped by the table. -His riding-whip was in his hand. "I came home too dazed to give an -intelligible account of myself," he said, speaking very deliberately, -wholly without emotion. "My wife imagined that I was not sober. Will -your lordship be good enough to convince her that she was mistaken?" - -"I?" said Saltash. - -"You, my lord." Jake stood at the table, square and determined. "I was -in your company. You can testify--if you will--that up to the time of -the accident I was in a perfectly normal condition. Will you tell her -so?" - -Saltash was facing him across the table. There was a queer look on his -swarthy face, a grimace half-comic, half-dismayed. - -As Jake ended his curt appeal he shrugged and spoke. "You are putting me -in a very embarrassing position." - -"I am sorry," said Jake steadily. "But you are the only witness that I -can call." - -"And why should she accept my testimony?" said Saltash. "Evidence given, -so to speak, at the sword's point, my good Bolton, is seldom worth -having. Moreover, if she had seen my crazy driving last night she might -have been disposed to doubt whether my own condition were above -suspicion." - -"I see," said Jake slowly. He still looked hard into Saltash's face, -and there was that in the look that quelled derision. "In that case, -there is nothing more to be said." - -Saltash made him a slight bow that was not without a touch of hauteur. -"I quite agree with you. It is an unprofitable subject. With Mrs. -Bolton's permission I will take my leave." - -He turned to her, took and pressed her hand, sent a sudden droll smile -into her grave face, and walked to the door. - -Jake held it open for him, but very abruptly Saltash clapped a hand on -his shoulder. "Come along, man! I'm going round the Stables. I'm -sorry you've got a sore head, but I'm off to town this afternoon, so -it's now or never. By the way, we shall have to postpone the -luncheon-party til a more convenient season. I've no doubt it's all the -same to you." - -He had his way. Jake went with him, and Maud drew a breath of deep -relief. She felt that another private interview with her husband just -then would have been unendurable. - -She sat down and leaned upon the table, feeling weak and unnerved. Not -till several minutes had passed did she awake to the fact that she was -holding Saltash's ring--that old dear gift of his--tightly clasped -within her quivering hands. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - THE VISITOR - - -"I do hope as I don't intrude," said Mrs. Wright, passing her -handkerchief over her shining forehead. "I didn't mean to take the -liberty of calling, Mrs. Bolton, but your husband met my Tom the other -day, and something he let fall made me think p'raps you'd be finding it -a bit lonely; so I thought I'd come up on the chance." - -"It was very kind of you," Maud said. - -She sat with her visitor in the little dark front room in which Jake -kept his business books, his whips, and all the paraphernalia of his -calling. It was a bare, office-like apartment, and reeked horribly of -Jake's tobacco; but Bunny was lying in the parlour and he had -strenuously set his face against admitting the worthy Mrs. Wright there. - -It was extremely cold, and Maud felt pinched and inhospitable. The -grate was full of shavings, the whole place was cheerless and forlorn. -It was a room that she scarcely ever entered, regarding it in fact more -as Jake's office than an alternative sitting-room. - -Mrs. Wright, however, stout, red, comfortable, did not feel the cold. -She sat with her umbrella propped against her chair and regarded her -stiff young hostess with much geniality on her homely face. - -"You do look like a princess in a cottage, my dear, if you'll allow me -to say so," she said. "And how are you getting on? I hope Jake's a -good husband to you. I feel sure he would be. He's such an honest -fellow. I often says to Tom, 'Give me a plain honest man like Jake -Bolton,' I says; 'he's a man in a thousand.' I'm sure you think so -yourself, Mrs. Bolton." - -Maud, not knowing quite what to say, replied with reserve that she had -no doubt he was. She was wondering if she could possibly offer Mrs. -Wright tea in that dreadful little room of Jake's and if she would ever -get rid of her if she didn't. - -Mrs. Wright, serenely unconscious of the troublous question vexing her -soul, went comfortably on. "I've often thought that if it had pleased -the Almighty to send me a daughter, Jake's just the man I would have -chosen for her. I like them eyes of his. They're so straight. But mind -you, I think he has a temper of his own. Mayhap you've never met with -it yet?" - -She looked at Maud slyly out of merry little slits of eyes, and chuckled -at the flush that rose in the girl's face. - -"He certainly never loses it in my presence," Maud said stiffly. - -Mrs. Wright's chuckle became a laugh. "Lor', my dear, you needn't be -shy with me. He worships you; now, don't he? I saw that the first time -I laid eyes on you. That was when you was waiting for him to come and -take you in to supper, and my Tom came first. I said to myself then, -'Ah, Jake, young man, it's plain to see where your fancy lies.' And I -laughed to myself," said Mrs. Wright, still chuckling. "For I couldn't -help thinking he was ambitious to lift his eyes to a real lady. Not -that in my opinion a man who is a man isn't good enough for any woman, -and I'm sure you think the same. And then, you know, he's that fond of -children, is Jake. The wonder to my mind is not that he's married now, -but that he stayed single so long." - -"He is very fond of my young brother," Maud observed. - -"Ah! Is he now? The poor little lad is a cripple, isn't he? Many's -the time I've watched you go by my shop-window. It's the wool shop at -the corner of East Street with one window that looks over the sea. I -used to wish you'd drop in to buy something, my dear; but you never did. -P'raps now you'll manage to find your way round there some day." - -"Thank you," Maud said. "But I so seldom go anywhere. My brother takes -up all my time." - -Mrs. Wright's rubicund face took a look of disappointment, but she still -smiled; it was a face that lent itself to smiles. "It isn't to be -expected that he'd want to come," she said. "But I'd be very pleased to -see you both any time. What a good sister you are to him, my dear! I -hope as he appreciates you." - -Maud's heart smote her suddenly. She realized that she had been -ungracious. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Wright," she said, with more of -cordiality than she had yet shown. "I will try to run in some day." - -Mrs. Wright looked enchanted on the instant. "My dear, I'd be -delighted! Come any time of day, just when it suits you! Tom and me, -we live alone now. He's such a good son. He keeps a hair-dresser's -saloon, you know, at the side of the shop. That's how we come to know -Mr. Bolton. He comes as regular as possible every third week to have -his hair cut. Such a head of hair it is--hair such as a woman would -give her eyes for. It's to be hoped he'll get a little daughter some -day, as'll take after him. Your eyes and his hair--wouldn't she be a -picture!" - -Maud's geniality passed like a light extinguished. She became -statuesque. "How soon the light goes!" she said, with a glance towards -the darkening window. - -"Yes; don't it?" said Mrs. Wright. - -There fell a silence most unusual with Mrs. Wright. With an effort Maud -dispelled it. - -"We are very much interested in the horses. You heard of the Mascot's -victory at Graydown?" - -Mrs. Wright came out of her silence, shook herself together, as it were, -and smiled again. "Now, isn't that nice for Jake? He's that wrapped up -in the animals, and to have you interested in 'em too! Now I should be -jealous of 'em if it was me!" - -It was at this point that Jake himself threw open the door and entered, -stopping short within the room in surprise to find it occupied. - -Mrs. Wright laughed aloud. "There, now! You didn't expect to find me -in possession, did you? How de do, Jake? What's happened to your -head?" - -Jake advanced with extended hand. "Hullo, it's Mother Wright!" he said, -and to Maud's amazement stooped and kissed her. "If this isn't a real -pleasure! But what are you doing in here? My head made a hole in the -road coming home from the races the other night, and it is still too -sore a subject for discussion." - -"Now--now, Jake!" protested Mrs. Wright. - -"Fact!" he assured her, with the candid smile that Maud had seen but -little of late. "But now what are you doing in here, I want to know? -This place is like a vault. Come along into the parlour and have some -tea!" - -He had not so much as glanced at Maud; she spoke suddenly, with nervous -haste. "Bunny is in the parlour, Jake. He may be dozing." - -"We'll soon wake him up," said Jake, - -He drew Mrs. Wright's tightly-gloved hand through his arm and turned to -the door. But she held him back, laughing. - -"Jake! Jake! You've forgotten something." - -"What's that?" said Jake. - -She told him amid many fat chuckles. "Why, you've kissed me, and you -haven't kissed your wife. Come, now, that's not right, and you but just -married. I know you're wanting to, so don't be shy! I've been a bride -myself, and I know all about it." - -She would have withdrawn her hand from Jake's arm, but he would not -suffer it. - -"No, no!" he said, with a careless laugh. "We don't do our kissing in -public. Guess it isn't a genial enough atmosphere either. Come along, -Mother! You'll perish in here." - -He led her from the room, still without glancing in Maud's direction, -and drew her along the narrow passage to the door of the parlour. - -Maud followed with a stateliness that veiled a burning embarrassment. - -She listened for Bunny's voice at the opening of the door, and instantly -heard it raised in cracked remonstrance. - -"Here, I say! Don't bring anyone in here! Oh, it's you, Jake! I -thought it was Maud. I thought----" - -His voice suddenly ended in what she felt to be the silence of disgust, -and Jake's accents very measured, very determined, took up the tale. - -"This is my young brother-in-law, Mrs. Wright, Sir Bernard Brian, -commonly called Bunny. Well, Bunny, my lad, I've brought you a visitor -to tea." - -Bunny growled an inarticulate response, and Mrs. Wright covered all -deficiencies with her cheery chuckle. - -"So nice to see you so cosy and comfortable, my dear. I hope as I'm not -intruding too much. Do you know, Jake, I don't think I'd better stop to -tea? It's getting dark, and Tom'll be wondering." - -"Let him wonder!" said Jake. "I'll see you home all in good time. You -know you always have tea when you come to see me. It's seldom enough -you come too. Maud," for the first time he addressed her directly, and -in his voice was a new note of authority such as she had never heard -before, "order the tea, will you? We will have it at once." - -It was a distinct command. Maud's delicate neck stiffened -instinctively. She crossed the room in silence, and rang the bell. - -The summons was answered with unusual promptitude by Mrs. Lovelace, who -entered with the supper-cloth on her arm and was greeted by the visitor -with much joviality. - -"How is it I never see you round our way, Sarah? Have you quite -forgotten your old friends?" - -"Not at all, Mrs. Wright, ma'am," said Mrs. Lovelace, dexterously -flinging her cloth over the table. "But I've been a bit busy, you see, -what with one thing and another, and me time's been occupied." - -"What on earth are you spreading that cloth for?" here broke in Bunny, -in irritable astonishment. "We never have that for tea." - -Mrs. Lovelace looked at him with dignity and hitched one shoulder. "We -always has a good spread when Mrs. Wright comes to see the master," she -said, in a tone that conveyed a distinct reproof for ill-timed -interference. - -Bunny subsided into sullen silence, and Mrs. Wright laughed again. "I -remember as it always used to be a heavy tea," she said. "But I don't -suppose a young gentleman like you would know what such things mean. -Now, I do hope you won't put yourself out on my account, Mrs. Bolton. -It's true I'm not accustomed to drawing-room meals, never had tea on my -lap in my life. But there, you might say as I haven't got much lap left -to have it on. Is that sardines you've got there, Sarah? Ah, you always -remember my pet weakness. Well, Jake, my dear, I haven't congratulated -you yet on your marriage. I hope it's going to be a very prosperous -one. I don't doubt as you've got a wife to be proud of, and I hope -you'll pull together well and make each other happy and comfortable; and -may you have your heart's desire, Jake, which--if I know you -properly--isn't very far to seek!" - -"That's real kind of you, Mother," said Jake sombrely. - -He had seated himself near Bunny whose brows were drawn in an ominous -scowl. - -In spite of the fire that roared up the chimney, the atmosphere was very -far from being a genial one. Jake's eyes, compellingly bright, were -fixed upon Maud, who though burningly conscious of his regard refused -persistently to raise her own. She was bitterly resentful of Jake's -attitude. It placed her in an intolerable position from which she felt -herself powerless to break free. She had no desire to treat this -impossible old woman churlishly, but somehow Jake forced her to a more -acute realization of the great gulf that stretched between them. She -could not even pretend to be cordial in his presence. She sat -tongue-tied. Mrs. Wright, however, chatted on with the utmost -complacence. She was plainly quite at her ease with Jake and she kept -the conversation going without an effort, despite Maud's obvious -embarrassment and Bunny's evident impatience. - -She made a hearty meal, urged on by Jake who presently bestowed the -whole of his attention upon her, seeming to dismiss his wife and -brother-in-law from his mind. - -"I really must be going," she declared at length, having detailed all -the local gossip she could think of for his delectation. "You shouldn't -encourage me so, Jake. I'm sure you'll all be tired out." - -"I reckon you're just the most welcome visitor that ever darkens my -doors," said Jake, rising with her. "Now, you're not to hurry. I'm -going to tell them to put the horse in." - -"No, no, Jake, my dear, don't you! I'd sooner walk. I would indeed. It -does me good, and it's too cold to-night for driving. No, and I'm not -going to let you see me home either. I'd know the way blindfold, and -I'm not that nervous. Oh, there now! What's this?" - -Mrs. Lovelace had just thrown open the door with some pomp. She -entered, bearing an enormous bunch of violets which she proceeded to -present to Maud with the ceremonious announcement: "Lord Saltash's -compliments, ma'am, and will you do him the honour to accept these?" - -"Oh my! How lovely!" cried Mrs. Wright. - -Maud said nothing. She took the violets and held them up to her face. - -Jake glanced at her momentarily, and thence to Mrs. Lovelace who had -come forward to help Mrs. Wright into her cloak. - -"Is Lord Saltash at the door?" he asked. - -Mrs. Lovelace gave a start, as if something in the query surprised her. -"No sir, the flowers was brought by a groom," she said. - -Jake said no more, but something in his silence sent the ever-ready -colour flooding Maud's face and neck. She bent a little lower over the -violets, saying no word. - -Mrs. Wright came clumsily into the breach. "But aren't they lovely, to -be sure? Never did I see such beauties. And the scent of 'em, why, the -room is full of it! Isn't that kind of Lord Saltash now?" - -"They have a great quantity at the Castle," Maud said in muffled tones. - -She held the flowers for Mrs. Wright to smell, and at the same moment -Jake reached forth and took them from her outstretched hand. - -"You take 'em if you like 'em, Mother. We get more of 'em than we -want," he said, in leisurely tones, and thrust the bouquet forthwith -into her astonished grasp. - -"Oh, my dear!" cried Mrs. Wright, between dismay and delight. "But--but -they was a present to Mrs. Bolton. I couldn't really! No, that I -couldn't!" - -"Take 'em!" Jake said. He was smiling a smile of deadly determination -and his leisurely utterance held something of a fateful quality that -induced Mrs. Wright to hush her remonstrances and turn appealingly to -Maud. - -The latter was standing erect and still with eyes of burning blue fixed -steadily upon emptiness. She made no response whatever to her visitor's -unspoken appeal, it seemed that she did not even see it. - -"It's all right, Mother," smiled Jake. "You take 'em home and enjoy -'em. As a matter of fact, Maud and I are getting a bit fed up with 'em -ourselves. Yes, I'm going to see you home. I'd rather." - -"And I'd rather not, Jake," Mrs. Wright asserted with sudden decision. -An odd expression of sternness had come into her jolly countenance. It -sat very strangely there. She came close to Maud, and as the girl -extended a stiff hand in farewell she took it and pressed the flowers -into it. "They're not Jake's to give," she said, "and I'm not going to -deprive you of 'em. Thank you kindly for a very good tea, Mrs. Bolton, -my dear. And now I'll wish you good-bye. If there's ever anything as I -can do for you, you must let me know." - -The words, the tone, were full of kindly comprehension, a sympathy too -subtle for outward expression. Maud looked into eyes of shining -friendliness, and as if a sudden shaft of sunlight had caught her heart, -her bitterness melted into something that was near akin to gratitude. - -She held up the violets with a smile. "Wait a moment!" she said. "I -would like you to have some of them." - -She untied them with the words, divided the great bunch, and gave back a -generous half into Mrs. Wright's plump hand. - -"Now, that's very good of you, dear," said Mrs. Wright. "I shall just -treasure them violets. They'll make me think of you whenever I look at -'em. They're just the colour of your eyes. Good-bye, and thank you -most kindly." - -It was then that Maud did a thing that amazed herself, impelled thereto -by that subtle sympathy which she had so little expected to meet. She -bent her stately neck and kissed the red, smiling face uplifted in such -honest admiration to hers. "Good-bye, Mrs. Wright," she said. "And -thank you for coming. I shall try to come and see you one day--when I -can make time." - -"Any time, dear, any time!" beamed Mrs. Wright. "Drop in just whenever -you feel inclined! I'm most always there." She gave her a hearty hug -with the words, and then, as if afraid that this demonstration had been -too ardent, she turned and trotted to the door. - -"Good-bye, Jake! Good-bye! There, now, I've forgotten Sir Brian. You -must excuse me for being so stupid." - -"Oh, don't trouble!" said Bunny, with ironical courtesy. "Pray don't -come back on my account!" - -She looked back at him from the threshold, a very motherly compassion on -her jolly face. - -"Poor little lad!" she murmured pityingly. "How sadly he looks, to be -sure! Good-bye, then, Sir Brian! I won't come back. Now, Jake, I'll -let you see me to the door-step--no further. The moon's up, and Tom'll -be sure to come and meet me." She started down the passage with Jake -behind her, her voice dwindling as she went. "I'm so glad as I've seen -your princess, Jake. I think she's lovely. Mind you're very good to -her! She's high born, you know, Jake, my boy; better-class than you and -me. I never see anyone so proud and so dainty. You be kind to her, my -lad, and see you treat her like the lady she is!" - -Jake's reply, if he made one, was inaudible. - -"Common old hag!" growled Bunny from his sofa. - -Maud said nothing at all. Her face was hidden in her violets, and she -was as one who heard not. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - HER OTHER SELF - - -It was on an afternoon in mid-January that Maud found herself for the -first time in the precincts of Burchester Castle. She had heard nothing -of Lord Saltash since his departure for town, though gifts of flowers -arrived at regular intervals from his hot-houses; and it seemed that his -absence was to be indefinitely prolonged. She almost hoped that it -would be so, for though he was practically her only friend his presence -was not an unalloyed pleasure. She felt more at ease when he was away. - -On this particular afternoon she had left Bunny wrapped up in his long -chair and lying in the summer-house that overlooked the field where Jake -was occupied in breaking in a wild young colt. The day was fine and -unusually warm. Bunny was in a contented mood and, since Jake was close -at hand, she did not see why she should not leave him for a space. He -had been needing her less and less of late, and though his behaviour -towards herself had undoubtedly undergone a considerable improvement, it -was becoming very evident to her that he vastly preferred Jake's -masculine companionship to her own. He was in fact so devoted to Jake -that he would endure correction from him without a murmur, a state of -affairs that Maud vaguely resented, without knowing why. They were such -close allies that she often felt herself to be superfluous. Neither by -day nor by night was her presence any longer essential. - -She knew that she ought not to regret this, for it meant that Bunny's -health was very materially improving; but yet at the heart of her there -often came a pang. She missed his dependence upon her with a poignancy -that was very hard to bear. - -And so for the first time that afternoon she decided to avail herself of -Lord Saltash's permission to use the piano at the Castle. She had an -intense love of music and a natural gift for it which she had never been -able to develop very freely. - -Charlie was musical too. Some of her happiest hours had been spent at -the piano with him in the old days. He was an accomplished musician -himself, and he had given her many a lesson and valuable hint. She -sometimes thought that it was over the piano that her heart had first -gone out to his. - -She did not want to recall those happy times they had had together. -They lay far behind her with her buried youth. But the longing to make -music was strong upon her. It had risen out of her loneliness like a -fiery thirst in the desert, and she yearned to gratify it. - -And after all why should she not? Charlie was away. There was no one to -know or care how she spent her time. It was obviously and unquestionably -her own. - -Jake had wholly ceased to take any interest in her doings. He treated -her as the most casual acquaintance. When he greeted her, he never so -much as touched her hand. He was everything to Bunny, he was nothing to -her; and every day it seemed to her that he drew a little further away -from her. She had tried to make overtures more than once, but he never -seemed to understand. He would look at her in his straight, -impenetrable way, and pass deliberately on to some other matter, whether -with intention or not she could never wholly decide. He had never tried -to be kind to her since the day that she had refused to hear his -proffered explanation. - -A great bitterness was growing up within her. She felt as if he had -deprived her of all she cared for, and given her nothing in return. It -was in part this bitterness of spirit that drove her to Burchester -Castle that day, and, added thereto, an intense and feverish desire to -escape if only for an hour from the atmosphere of her daily existence. -She felt as if it were crushing out her individuality, and she longed -desperately to be herself, her best and happiest self, if only for an -hour. - -So, with no word to any but Bunny of her intention, she passed up the -long fir avenue to the Castle with the winter sun sinking red behind -her. - -The great stone building frowned upon her as she drew near. She -approached it with a certain awe. The dark windows seemed to gaze at -her. The massive entrance yawned to receive her. - -She stepped into the echoing Gothic porch, and found herself confronted -by a massive oak door. The electric bell at the side of this, however, -was reassuring, and she rang it without hesitation. - -While she waited for the door to open she amused herself by examining -the gargoyles that surmounted the pillars of the porch,--jeering, demon -faces that made her shiver. There was about the place an ecclesiastical -dignity at which those faces seemed to mock. The thought of Saltash -went through her. Saltash in a derisive mood was strikingly like one of -these. - -The door opened with noiseless state, and an ancient man-servant stood -before her. He looked at her with grave enquiry, and with a touch of -nervousness she explained her presence. - -"I am Mrs. Bolton. Lord Saltash is away, I know; but he has given me -permission to use his piano. I thought I should like to do so this -afternoon." - -The old man stood back and bowed before her. "Come in, madam!" he said. - -She entered with a curious sensation of unreality, and found herself in -an immense stone hall, carpeted with rich Persian rugs, and splendidly -warmed by a great fire that roared in an open fireplace. The sense of -ecclesiastical austerity completely vanished as soon as the door closed -behind her. The whole atmosphere became luxurious, sensuous, Eastern. -There were some wonderful pieces of statuary, some in marble and some in -bronze, placed here and there, that were of anything but monastical -design. One in particular in a niche in the stone wall caught Maud's -eyes as she followed her guide--a nude, female figure with wings, one of -which was spread like an eagle's pinion as though to soar, while the -other trailed back, broken, drooping, powerless. It was a wonderful -marble, and she paused before it almost involuntarily. The arms of the -figure were outstretched and straining upwards, the head flung back, and -in the face such anguish, such longing, such passionate protest as -thrilled her through and through. - -The old butler paused also. "That," he said in his decorous monotone, -"is Spentoli's _Fallen Woman_. His lordship prefers to call it _The -Captured Angel_. A very valuable piece of sculptury, I believe, madam. -Quite one of the features of the place. His lordship sets great store -by it, and it is universally admired by all visitors." - -"It is wonderful," Maud said. But yet she turned her eyes away almost -immediately. There was something about that mute, agonized figure of -womanhood that she felt she could not bear to look upon except in -solitude. - -The butler stumped on down the great hall, and she followed, to a grand -oak staircase that divided into two half-way up and led to a panelled -gallery that ran along three sides of the hall. Solemnly they mounted. -A high oak door confronted them at the top which the old man threw open -with much ceremony. - -"The grand piano, madam, is over by the west window," he said, and with -another deep bow withdrew, closing the door without sound behind her. - -Maud went forward into the room. The first impression she received was -of great loftiness. It was a huge apartment, oak-panelled, and with a -floor of polished oak. The whole of one side of the room was lighted by -south windows that looked out over terraced gardens to the pine-woods of -the park. At the end was a turret in the western angle of the wall, and -here stood the piano, full in the glow of the sinking sun. There were -two fireplaces in the room, and in the one nearer to the piano a red -still fire was burning. A low couch stood before it, and a great -tiger-skin--the only rug in the whole vast place--was spread on the -hearth. There were other couches and strangely-shaped divans in the -room, but no chairs, and only one small table. The whole effect was -spacious and Eastern, curiously attractive to the senses and yet -curiously elusive. - -Maud went over the uncovered floor, treading lightly, with a feeling of -having entered an enchanted land,--a feeling not wholly pleasant of -being caught in a fairy web of subtleties from which she might not find -it easy to escape. - -The whole atmosphere breathed of Saltash. She was sure that he had -designed every elusive detail. - -The piano was thrown invitingly open. A French song was on the rack. -It had the appearance of having been placed there but a moment before. -A sudden doubt assailed her, a sensation as of having walked unwittingly -into a trap. Some force had drawn her hither, some magnetism had surely -been at work. - -The impulse came to her then to turn and go, yet she resisted it. -Later, it seemed to her that she had lacked the motive power to do aught -but move straight to the piano and drop onto the music-stool before the -keys. Her hands went out to them, and suddenly she was playing, at -first very softly, then with gathering tone as she felt the instrument -respond to her touch, till at length all sense of strangeness left her, -and she began to sing the little French ditty that once had been one of -her favourites! She had never heard her own voice to greater advantage -than in that lofty music-room. It was a mezzo, sweet rather than -powerful, with a ringing, bell-like quality that Charlie had been wont -to compare to the tentative notes of a bullfinch. He had always -declared that she was afraid of the sound of it, but this was certainly -not the case to-day. The glad notes left her lips, true and free and -birdlike. The heart within her had suddenly grown light. - -The song came to an end. Her fingers began to wander idly over the -keys. She played a dreamy air with an old-world waltz refrain, too lost -in her trance of delight to realize what she played, and again -half-unconsciously she was singing, as she had sung long ago before the -gates of youth. - - "There has fall'n a splendid tear, - From the passion flower at the gate, - She is coming, my dove, my dear; - She is coming, my life, my fate. - The red rose cries, 'She is near, she is near'; - And the white rose weeps, 'She is late'; - The larkspur listens, 'I hear, I hear'; - And the lily whispers, 'I wait.'" - - -Softly, sweetly, the notes stole through the room, wandered awhile, and -ceased. There fell a pause, and the girl's eyes rested dreaming on the -long dark line of pine-trees red-flushed in the glow of sunset. - -Then, still following her dream, she sang on. - - "She is coming, my own, my sweet, - Were it ever so airy a tread - My heart would hear her and beat - Were it earth in an earthy bed; - My dust would hear her and beat, - Had I lain for a century dead; - Would start and tremble under her feet, - And blossom in purple and red." - -And then she was singing the refrain, and while she sang it she awoke. - - "Come into the garden, Maud, - For the black bat night has flown; - Come into the garden, Maud, - I am here at the gate alone, - I am here at the gate alone." - -She stopped suddenly with the conviction that a man's voice had joined -hers in the singing of that refrain. Yet, if this had been so, the -accompanying voice ceased as abruptly as her own. She found herself -sitting in absolute silence, with every pulse racing, every nerve -strained to listen. - -No sound came to her. The whole great chamber was as still as death. -The fire burned red and silent. There was not so much as the ticking of -a clock to be heard. And yet it seemed to her that eyes watched her from -some vantage point unseen. She had a firm conviction that she was not -alone. - -She controlled the curious excitement that possessed her, and slowly set -her fingers once more on the keys. She played the old refrain again, -singing it very softly, listening intently while she sang. This time -she was sure--quite sure--that a man's voice hummed the air. She went -on to the end, and suffered her hands to fall. - -"Charlie!" she said, without turning. - -There came a slight sound behind her, the click as of a spring catch. -She looked round, and saw him standing against the high panelling of the -wall. - -"What a childish game to play!" she said, with lips that slightly -trembled. - -"We are all children," observed Saltash. "We may think ourselves mighty -clever, but the fact remains. Greeting, my queen rose! I am enchanted -to see you." - -He came forward, his black brows working comically, his queer ugly face -smiling a welcome. - -In spite of herself, Maud smiled in answer. "But why did you pretend -you weren't at home?" she said, in a voice of protest. - -He laughed as he took her hand. "But I wasn't," he said. "I motored -down on purpose to receive you. Are you so disappointed?" - -She shook her head, but she still looked at him somewhat dubiously. -"You know, Charlie," she said, "I like people to behave quite -straightforwardly, and to tell the truth." - -"Heavens above!" laughed Saltash. "Why so grievously moral? Well, look -here, let me be quite, quite honest, and admit that it was wholly by -chance that I came down here to-day. Chance or the beneficent will of -the gods! Call it what you will! And, my dear girl, don't be prudish -now you are married! Remember, that though it is a state of bondage -there are certain liberties attached that are well worth having. Now, -you are going to play and sing to me while I smoke and admire." - -He turned from her and threw himself upon a low settee in the window -embrasure. The scent of his cigarette came to her, aromatic, Eastern, -fragrant of many subtleties. She breathed it as one who inhales the -magic of the gods. - -"Now, play!" he commanded, his strange, restless eyes upon her. "Play -as the spirit moves you! Never mind me! I am of no account." - -She had done it often before in the old days. It was not difficult to -do it now, with the spell of his personality upon her. Her own spirit -responded instinctively to the call of his. The sympathy between them -became communion. She began to play, and, playing, lost herself in the -music as one inspired. - -Saltash lay without moving, as if half-asleep. He also seemed as one -under a charm. - -And Maud played on and on, seeing visions, steeping her soul in romance, -forgetful wholly of the chain by which she was bound; forgetful also of -her companion, or perhaps so merged in his individuality as to be -unaware of any dividing line. It was the old, sweet dreamland that had -always held them both. - -Time passed, and the red sun with it. The early dark began to fall, the -shining visions to wane. She came out of her trance at last with a deep -sigh, and suffered her hands to fall. - -Instantly Saltash sat up. "Bravo, _ma belle reine_! Your touch is like -velvet to the senses. You have scarcely sung to me at all. But no -matter! You have closed the gates now, and we can't go back. But -wasn't it good? Come, be honest and say so." - -She lifted her eyes to his with something of her dream still lingering -there. "It was--very good," she said. - -"And you'll come again?" he insinuated. - -The dream began to fade. With her right hand she picked out a nervous -little air on the piano, saying no word. - -He leaned towards her. "Maud," he insisted, "surely you'll come again!" - -"I don't know," she said slowly. - -"Surely!" he said again. - -Her eyes grew troubled. "Charlie," she said, her fingers still softly -pressing the keys, "I can't come here when you are here. I like to -come,--oh yes, I like to come. But I mustn't." - -"Why not?" said Saltash. "Afraid of the cow-puncher?" - -She shrank, and struck a sudden discordant chord. "I am not afraid of -anyone, but I must think of appearances. I owe it to myself. I should -like to come sometimes and play. But--with you here--I can't." - -"All right," he said abruptly. "I'll go." - -Her eyes flashed up to his. She took her hand from the piano and gave -it to him. "You are going to be a true friend to me, Charlie," she -said. - -He smiled rather wryly. "My friendship is to take a somewhat negative -form, it seems to me, but perhaps it will stand the strain. Have you -heard anything yet about the American doctor?" - -She shook her head. "No, nothing." - -"And you have not laid my proposal before Jake, I gather?" he pursued, -boldly keeping her hand in his. - -"Not yet," she said. - -"Have you given the matter your own august consideration?" he asked. - -Her hand began to fidget for freedom. "I have thought about it, -Charlie. I have not quite made up my mind. But you mustn't be hurt if I -say No." - -"I shan't be hurt," he said, slowly relaxing his hold so that her hand -slipped free. "But I shall think that your love of propriety somewhat -outweighs your love for Bunny." - -She flushed, and turned aside to take up her gloves in silence. - -He stood and watched her. "That is so like you," he said, after a -moment. - -She glanced at him. "What do you mean?" - -He laughed lightly, but without mockery. "Your stately silences! Do -you know I remember you best by your silences? It is there that you -differ from all the rest of your charming sex. Other women, when they -are misjudged, clamour for redress. You endure in silence, too proud to -complain. I wonder if Jake has realized your silences yet." - -Maud stiffened a little. "I must be going," she said. "I promised Bunny -I would be back to tea." - -"I'll walk back with you," Saltash said. - -She shook her head. "No, I would rather go alone." - -"Why don't you tackle the situation boldly and ask me to tea?" he said. - -She was walking down the long room, and he sauntered beside her, smoking -a cigarette, careless and debonair. - -"I think it wiser not, Charlie," she said. - -He laughed. "As you will. But remember, life is short. We may as well -enjoy ourselves, while it lasts. Did old Billings show you up here? He -is the one respectable feature of this establishment." - -"Yes, he certainly is respectable," she agreed, with a smile. "But where -were you when I came in? You didn't come through this door." - -He laughed again in a fashion half-mocking, half-secretive. "That is my -affair, _ma belle reine_. Some day I may show you--several things; but -that day has not dawned yet." - -He threw open the door, and they found the great hall below them ablaze -with electric light. "I suppose I may accompany you downstairs," he -observed. - -"What a wonderful place it is!" Maud said. - -Her eyes went almost involuntarily to the statue that had arrested her -attention on entering. It shone from its niche with a white splendour -that seemed to give forth light. - -"My _Captured Angel_ has the place of honour by night and by day," said -Saltash. "I have been wanting you to see her, or perhaps it would be -more correct to say, I have been wanting to see you together. Have you -ever met your other self before?" - -"My other self?" She looked at him interrogatively. - -He made her a quizzical bow. "Have you never seen that face before?" - -She descended the stairs, and approached the statue. They stood together -before it. She had desired to see it in solitude before, but with -Saltash by her side that desire had left her. They viewed it from the -same standpoint, in that subtle communion of spirit that had always -characterized their intercourse. - -And she saw--as he saw--her own features carved in the marble, piteous, -tragic, alive. - -"Poor _Captured Angel_!" murmured Saltash softly. "So fair of face, so -sad of soul!" - -She did not respond. She felt as if in that recognition something had -pierced her heart. It was like a revelation of things to come. So for -awhile she stood, gazing upon that tragic figure of broken womanhood; -and finally in silence turned away. - -He went with her to the door, but he did not offer a second time to -accompany her farther. On the threshold she gave him her hand in -farewell. - -"You will come again?" he said. - -She met his strange, unstable eyes for a moment and fancied that they -pleaded with her. - -"Not to see you, Charlie," she said, and was conscious in a vaguely -troubled way that the words cost her an effort. - -His eyes flashed her a laugh. "No, not to see me," he said lightly. -"Of course not. Just for your own enjoyment. You will enjoy that -piano, you know. And you can have it all to yourself." - -She smiled in spite of herself even against her will. "Very well," she -said. "I will come again some day, And thank you very much." - -"Oh, don't do that!" he protested. "It spoils everything." - -She released her hand, and turned from him, still smiling. "Good-bye!" -she said. - -"Farewell, Queen of the roses!" he made light response. - -She passed through the wide stone porch and out into the dark of the -winter evening. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - THE RISING CURRENT - - -It was very dark along the avenue of pine-trees, darker than she had -anticipated. She almost wished that she had allowed Saltash to -accompany her. She went as quickly as she dared in the gloom, conscious -that it was growing late. The road wound considerably, and she could -not see the lamp at the gates. Overhead a rising wind moaned desolately -through the pines. They swayed and creaked as though whispering -together. Very soon the lights of the Castle were obscured behind her, -and she was in almost total darkness. - -She pressed on with an uneasy suspicion that it must be later than she -had thought. Doubtless Jake had wheeled Bunny back to the house long -before. Bunny knew whither she had gone, so they would not be anxious -about her; but they would wonder why she was so late. The afternoon had -fled away like a dream. - -She began to quicken her steps somewhat recklessly, but the road curved -more abruptly than she realized, and she presently ran into the grassy -bank, nearly falling into the outstretched arms of a fir-tree. She -recovered herself sharply with a gasp of dismay, and paused to try to -discern more clearly the winding of the way. It was at this point that -there came to her the sound of advancing footsteps. Someone was -approaching with a slow, purposeful stride that suddenly sent the blood -to her heart in a quick wave of something that was almost apprehension. -She stood quite still and waited. - -Nearer and nearer came the leisurely tread. Instinct, blind and -unreasoning, prompted her to draw back into the shielding recesses of -the tree with a desperate desire to escape notice. It was a footfall -that she had come to know, and--why she could not have said--she did not -want to meet Jake at that moment. With a very curious dread at her -heart she stood and waited. - -He came to within a couple of yards of her, and stopped. "You can come -out," he remarked dryly. "It's just you I've come along to fetch." - -His voice was perfectly quiet and natural, but there was that in the -words that fired within her a burning indignation. She came forward and -faced him in the gloom. - -"Why should you take that trouble?" she said. - -She saw his eyes glitter in the darkness, and knew that they were upon -her with a lynx-like intensity. "I reckon I have the right," he said, -in his slow way. "You've no objection, I presume?" - -Her cheeks burned hotly in the darkness. She knew that he had her at a -disadvantage. "I am fully capable of taking care of myself," she said, -beginning to walk on down the dim avenue. - -He fell into his easy stride beside her. "Is that why Lord Saltash left -you to walk home alone?" he said. - -She clenched her hands in the darkness. "What do you mean?" - -"I think I am right in concluding that you have spent the afternoon with -him," Jake said, in his measured tones. - -Maud stood suddenly still. She was quivering from head to foot. "You -are--quite right," she said, in a voice that she strove in vain to -steady. "I think I have told you before, Lord Saltash and I are old -friends." - -"Yes, I am aware of that," Jake said. - -He reached out a quiet hand and took her by the arm, leading her calmly -forward. - -She went with him because she could not do otherwise, but she would have -given all she had at that moment to wrench herself free. There was no -escape for her, however; she was forced to endure his touch, forced to -go forward with him along a road that she could not see. - -He led her in silence, calmly, unfalteringly, with the utmost -confidence. She was sure that those lynx-eyes of his could see in the -dark. - -But his silence speedily became intolerable. It seemed to her to -bristle with condemnation. It goaded her against her will into speech. - -"Lord Saltash has given me his permission to use the piano at the -Castle. I did not know when I went that he had returned." - -"I could have told you that," commented Jake. - -Again her resentment rose to a flame, burning fiercely. Yet his words -held no insult. With all her strength she strove for calmness. - -"I did not know of it. In any case, I do not see that it was a matter -of very vital importance. An hour at the piano is a great treat to me, -and I shall probably go again." - -"For an hour?" said Jake. - -This time the peculiar intonation of his voice was unmistakable, not to -be ignored. She flung him instant defiance. - -"For as long as I choose. My time is my own." - -He was silent a moment, but she was conscious of the tightening of his -hand. At length: "All right, my girl," he said. "But remember, my -claim to it comes before Lord Saltash's. Some day it may happen that I -shall put in my claim. I never have been content to be passed at the -winning-post." - -Her heart quivered at the deliberate purpose with which he spoke. She -walked on, saying no word. - -They were nearing the gates, and the glare from the two great lamps -shone towards them, lighting the way. She braced herself, and made a -resolute attempt to free her arm from his hold. - -"Easy! Easy!" said Jake. "We haven't got there yet. It's dark beyond -those lights." - -She abandoned her effort, feeling that she had no choice. They walked -on together silently. - -They reached and passed through the gates. The road stretched before -them steep and winding. - -"We'll cut across the fields," said Jake. - -He led her to a stile almost concealed in the hedge, and here his hold -upon her relaxed. He vaulted the rail, and waited for her. - -He did not offer to assist her though the step was high. She mounted in -nervous haste to avoid his touch. - -But for the darkness she would have found no difficulty in springing -down, but as it was she misjudged the distance, slipped, and fell. She -threw out her hands with a cry, and the next moment she was caught in -Jake's arms. He held her fast, so fast that for a few palpitating -seconds she felt the hard beating of his heart against her own. Then, -in response to her desperate efforts for freedom, he let her go, without -excuse, without apology, in a deep-breathing silence that somehow -appalled her. They walked side by side along the field-path, saying no -word. - -There was a gate at the further end that led into the training-field -below the little orchard. As they reached this, Jake paused very -deliberately and spoke. - -"I reckon I've got to prepare you for a visitor." - -"A visitor!" She stopped in swift dread of she knew not what. - -"A friend of mine," drawled Jake, with an odd touch of aggressiveness. -"You're not precisely dead nuts on my friends as a rule, I know. But I -guess this one may prove an exception. Dr. Capper turned up this -afternoon. I left him having tea with Bunny." - -"Dr. Capper!" Maud gasped the name, scarcely conscious of speaking at -all. - -"Dr. Capper from the States," said Jake, unmoved. "He chanced to be just -leaving for this country when my letter reached him, so he thought he'd -answer it in person and look us up first. He and Bunny are fast pals -already. He's a regular magician, is Dr. Capper." - -"But--but--you never expected him so soon!" faltered Maud. "Surely--he -won't want to--to--examine Bunny yet." - -"Not before to-morrow, maybe," said Jake. "We can't expect to keep him -very long, you know. He's a busy man. I've heard that people in this -country simply tumble over each other to consult him. He could make a -score of fortunes over here if he would. But he won't. He'll only take -up the cases he fancies, won't waste himself over easy things. That's -why we're so almighty lucky to get him." - -His easy, unhurried speech gave her time to collect herself. She forced -her first, involuntary dismay into the background, facing the sudden -exigency of the situation with all the strength at her disposal. - -"Jake," she said, "this thing has come very suddenly, but curiously -enough Lord Saltash was speaking about it only this afternoon. If--if -there is to be anything of the nature of an operation, he has offered to -place any part of the Castle at our disposal. It is a very generous -offer, and it--it would be an excellent thing for Bunny." - -"Then you have decided to accept it?" said Jake. - -His tone was perfectly quiet and matter-of-fact, but it amazed her. She -had expected a determined opposition. Disconcerted, she paused before -replying. - -"I don't think it is especially generous," Jake said, and again it -seemed to her that he was talking to give her time. "But it might be a -good thing for Bunny. If you like, I will go up to-night and see -Saltash about it." - -He opened the gate for her with the words, and she passed through with -feelings too mixed to bear any analysis. - -"Am I to go?" he asked, as he dropped back into his sturdy stride beside -her. - -"Please," she said, in a low voice. - -His attitude was a complete puzzle to her. It seemed so utterly at -variance with the absurdly jealous line he had taken but a few minutes -before. But she could not ask for an explanation. The relief of -finding him prepared to act in unison with her on this point was too -great. She did not understand either his motives or his actions, but -she was thankful to find that there was to be no battle of wills between -them. After all, his motives were not of paramount importance. - -As they walked through the last field, she tried to banish her -embarrassment and recover her normal composure of mien. But strive as -she would, she could not wholly reassure herself. Nor could she forget -the fast holding of his arms and the strong, deep throbbing of his heart -against her own. That moment had been a revelation to her upon which -she dared not dwell. - -They reached the dark orchard, and passed up the dim path to the house. -Jake went straight up the steps to the French windows of the parlour -from which a cheery welcoming light shone forth. He raised a hand to -the catch. - -"Wouldn't it be better to go round?" Maud said. - -She was suddenly trembling all over in an agitation that seemed to -possess her, body and soul. - -Jake did not pause. Steadily he raised the latch. "Come right in!" he -said. - -The door opened, the light poured out upon them? - -There came to her the sound of Bunny's cracked, difficult laugh. She -entered in front of Jake, dazzled, hesitating, uncertain. - -Instantly a man's voice greeted her, a quiet, casual voice with an -unmistakable New York accent. "Ah, I guess this is the lady of the -house. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, madam. Mr. Bolton -will have told you who I am." - -Tall and gaunt and meagre, he bent over the hand she offered him, -holding it in a strong, sustaining clasp. - -She looked at him rather piteously, aware of green eyes darting over her -with lizard-like swiftness, eyes that shone intensely in a face that was -the colour of old ivory. She also saw a yellow pointed beard that for a -moment prejudiced her and the next was forgotten. - -"It was so kind of you to come," she said, with a quivering smile. - -He smiled in answer, a sudden, transforming smile that warmed her heart. -"I guess I followed my own inclination," he said. "Say, now, you're -cold. Bunny and I have been keeping up a good fire for you. Sit down -and make your husband do the waiting!" - -His manner was so kind and withal so courteous that Maud's embarrassment -passed like a cloud. She came to the fire, pulling off her gloves and -stretching her fingers to the blaze. - -Bunny accosted her with eager eyes. "Maud, he's going to overhaul me -and see if he can do anything for me. Maud, can't he do it to-night? I -won't sleep a wink if he doesn't." - -Her heart sank inexplicably. She seemed to have stepped into a new -atmosphere that seethed with possibilities that somehow frightened her. -She was as one in the grip of a force indomitable that hurled her -headlong towards a goal she dreaded. - -She leaned upon the mantelpiece, looking towards Capper with more of -appeal than she knew. "You are much too kind," she said. - -He pushed up a chair for her. "Say, now, there's no need to hustle -any," he said. "I suspect there is no harm in my looking at the lad; -but we don't take any further action at present. I've a lot to get -through in this old country, and I'd just like to know right now if this -is a case for me or not." - -He patted the back of the chair with fatherly insistence, and she sank -into it with a feeling of utter weariness and impotence. It seemed -futile to battle any longer against the torrent that bore her. She was -as a straw in the whirlpool of Fate. - -"It is so good of you even to think of helping us," she said rather -unsteadily. "Please make your examination whenever it suits you best! -But Bunny is not a good sleeper. You will remember that, won't you?" - -Capper took up the cup of tea that Jake had prepared, and handed it to -her. "Let me have the pleasure of seeing you drink this!" he said. "I -should like to make my examination to-night, if you have no objection. -In fact, I have come down for the purpose. My time, madam, is more -limited than anyone on this side could ever be made to realize. I won't -hustle you, but if I didn't hustle myself I guess I'd have to account -some day for a waste of good material." - -He sat down in a chair facing her with the words, and fell to cracking -his finger-joints one after the other with absent energy. It was a way -he had, as Maud was soon to discover. - -"You have had tea?" she asked. - -He nodded. "I am ready to get to work. I shan't want an audience. If -I want anything I'll let you know. But I've a very decided notion that -my patient and I will get on best alone." - -Jake raised his eyes suddenly. "That so, doctor?" he drawled. "Then I -guess I'll carry the youngster up right now." - -Capper looked at him with a smile, and pulled his beard speculatively. -Bunny beamed approval. - -Maud drank her tea in utter silence, feeling as if it would choke her. - -The silence became prolonged, but she did not realize that anything was -expected of her till Capper leaned slightly towards her, and spoke. - -"Have I your permission, madam?" he asked courteously. - -She met his keen eyes and was struck afresh by the kindly reassurance -they held. "Of course," she said, in a low voice. "I--am very grateful -to you." - -"I hope--some day--you may have cause to be," he rejoined. - -Jake went to Bunny's side. She saw the boy raise his arms as he bent, -and clasp his neck. A few muttered confidences passed between them; -then Jake's strong arms lifted the frail, impotent body as they alone -knew how to lift. And in that moment it seemed to Maud that the beloved -burden had been taken finally from her, and she was left to wander alone -in a desert that was very dark and bare. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - - LIGHT RELIEF - - -"May I come in?" said Capper. - -Maud started. She had been sitting huddled over the fire for what -seemed like countless ages, listening with straining nerves to every -sound overhead and sometimes shrinking and trembling at what she heard. -Jake had gone out long since to the stables, and she had been thankful -to see him go. His very presence was intolerable to her just then. - -At the sound of Capper's voice she turned an ashen face. "Say, now," he -said, in a tone of kindly chiding, "you've been scaring yourself, Mrs. -Bolton; and if that's not the silliest game under the sun, you may call -me a nigger." - -She rose to receive him, trying to force her quivering lips to practical -speech. But she could only articulate, "I heard him cry out several -times. Does he want me?" - -"Not yet," said Capper. He laid a very steady hand upon her shoulder. -"Leave him alone for a little! He'll pull himself together best alone. -He's got the spunk all right." - -She stood still under his hand, piteously awaiting the information for -which she could not bring herself to ask. He was looking at her keenly, -she knew; but she could not face his look. She could have been strong -had strength been essential, but the need for it seemed to have gone. - -Bunny no longer leaned upon her sustaining love. - -"Come, now, I want a straight talk with you," the great doctor said. "I -want to understand your point of view if you will be gracious enough to -expound it to me." - -She made a pathetic attempt to laugh. "Do you think you can cure him, -Doctor?" she said. - -Capper laughed too with a species of grim exultation. "Is that what -troubles you? If that's all, I guess I can soon set your mind at rest. -I can cure him absolutely--within three months. But I shall want your -co-operation. Can I count on that?" - -His hand pressed upon her with something of insistence. His yellow face -looked searchingly, with an odd elation into hers. She met his look -reluctantly, and became dominated by it. - -"Of course you can count upon it," she said. - -He nodded, pulling restlessly at his beard with his free hand. "To what -extent, I wonder? Are you keen?" - -"Of course I am keen," she said, almost with indignation. He stood -silent a moment, his hand still upon her shoulder. Then, "Mrs. Bolton," -he said, "do you know your young brother has got a curious notion into -his head that you don't want him to be made sound?" - -"Ah, but that is a mistake!" she said quickly. - -"Is it a mistake?" said Capper. "No, don't answer! Why should you? But -it's curious that I should have sensed the same myself the moment I saw -you. However, if you tell me it is not so, I shall take your word for -it. But at the same time I think I begin to see your point of view. -Without the care of him you would feel lost for a bit. Life might be -rather difficult. Isn't that so?" - -She laughed somewhat tremulously. "I think I have always found life -difficult. But lately--just lately--" She paused in uncertainty. - -"Ah!" said Capper. "Maybe you're up against it. But you've got solid -ground to stand on. You may take my word for that, because I happen to -know." - -He spoke with a kindness that went straight to her heart. Almost -involuntarily she put her hand into his, feeling the long, active -fingers close upon it with a sense of security that was infinitely -comforting. - -"Did Jake ever tell you the foundation of our friendship?" he asked her -suddenly. - -She shook her head. - -"It's an interesting story," Capper said. "P'raps you'd like to hear -it." - -Maud was silent. - -He proceeded as if she had answered in the affirmative. "It was on a -dark night in the Atlantic ten years ago. Do you remember the wreck of -the _Hyperion_? No, maybe you wouldn't. She ran into a submerged -iceberg and was nearly torn in two. I was knocked down by the shock and -got jammed against a locker in the saloon. It was a case of every man -for himself, and I was soon left to my fate. But Jake--he was working -his way across as ship's carpenter--came back on his own to see if there -were anyone left below, and found me, wedged there in the wreckage. We -were settling down fast, the water was over our knees, and I told him to -look out for himself; but he wouldn't. I cursed him for a fool, I -remember." Capper's yellow face was strangely alight; his fingers -gripped hers tensely. "But that didn't make any difference. He had no -time to go and get any implements to work with, so he just set to with -his hands and ripped and tore at the wood till at last it splintered and -he got me free. He worked like a Titan. I've never forgotten. He got -me out just in time, Heaven knows how. The water was above his waist -before he'd done, and I was on the verge of drowning. But he did it, and -more also. He grabbed me up out of that death-trap, as if I had been a -priceless possession of his own. He dragged me upon deck and roped me -to him because I was too damaged to help myself. And when we went down, -as we very soon did, we sank together and we came up together, and he -managed at last to get me to a boat. Now you'll never get him to speak -of that episode, but it's about the finest piece of work I've ever come -across. The man was utterly unknown to me and I to him. Yet he never -thought of passing me by, but just kept on till he'd saved my life. Not -a thought to his own safety, mark you. He wasn't out for that. And he -wasn't out for reward either. When I offered him money later he just -laughed in a purring sort of fashion and told me to keep it for some -chap who had failed. 'We don't all of us win out on the hundredth -chance,' he said. 'Thank the high gods, not me!' I saw he meant it, so -of course I let him have his way. But it's been a sort of bond between -us ever since--a bond that stretches but never breaks." - -He ceased to speak, ceased also to hold her hand. Maud's face was -turned towards him, her blue eyes were intently fixed upon his. She -said nothing whatever, and there fell a silence that was curiously -intimate between them. - -Capper broke it at length. "He's been a bit of a rover, but I've never -quite lost sight of him since that night. When I make a friend like -that, I can't afford to lose him again. But I've never had a chance of -doing him a service till now. He's a married man and considerably more -civilized than he was in those days. But I have a notion that there's a -leaven of the wild ass still in his composition. That's why I'm afraid -you may not realize that he's gold all through--all through." He paused -a moment, looking at her quizzically; then: "By way of light relief," he -said, "I guess you know the fascinating story of the princess and the -frog. She had to take the beast as he was, and even give him her pillow -o' nights. But only when she struck at last and threw him against the -wall did she find out that she'd caught a prince after all. I guess the -man who wrote that story was a student of human nature. It's a comic -story anyway." - -Maud was laughing. Somehow, inexplicably, the man had eased her burden. -"I don't think you are presumptuous, Doctor," she said. "I think you -are very kind." - -"It's mighty fine of you to take that view," said Capper, with a tug at -his yellow beard. "I shall do my best to deserve it." - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII - - THE ONLY SOLUTION - - -"Oh, Lord Saltash! So you're home at last! What a pity you didn't come -back a little sooner!" - -"Am I late for anything, Lady Brian?" smiled Lord Saltash, holding her -hand in his. - -She shook her head at him. "You are hopelessly late. And you mustn't -call me that. I have renounced my title." - -"Really? How generous of you!" Saltash began to laugh in his easy, -mocking way. "Lady Brian has left town for the South Coast, and Mrs. -Sheppard is now in residence at Fairharbour. I am sorry that I was not -at hand to escort her ladyship; but I am none the less pleased to be -received by Mrs. Sheppard. Have I missed anything besides the -first-mentioned privilege?" - -Mrs. Sheppard threw out her hands with a dainty gesture of despair. "My -dear Charlie, you've missed--everything! Have you seen my poor Maud?" - -He nodded. "More than once. I make a point of seeing her whenever I -feel so disposed. Now that she is in such safe hands, there is no -longer any necessity to hold me at arms' length, I assure you we are on -the best of terms." - -Mrs. Sheppard groaned. "Why, oh, why didn't you come back sooner? It -would have altered--everything." - -He looked at her, the teasing smile still hovering about his swarthy -face. "It would have been too obvious a solution," he said lightly. -"Don't you know that the unattainable is always the dearest?" - -Mrs. Sheppard clasped her hands with a tragic gesture. "You don't -realize--or perhaps you don't care--that she has sold herself to a man -for whom she has not the smallest shadow of affection." - -"In pursuit of her illustrious mother's example?" suggested Saltash, -with careless effrontery. "But why did you allow it? Wasn't it up to -you to forbid the banns?" - -"I?" Mrs. Sheppard cast up her eyes. "Do you suppose I have ever had -any control over her?" - -"I presume you had the slapping of her in her babyhood," he observed. - -She laughed almost hysterically. "As if I ever did or could! She was -always so serious and quiet and determined. No one she didn't love -could ever move her an inch. And the dear child never loved me, you -know. Somehow we didn't touch. No, I couldn't prevent the marriage. -Only one person in the world could have done that. Oh, Charlie, what a -pity! What a pity!" - -The easy tears had risen to her eyes. She was very appealing in woe. - -But Saltash was apparently unmoved. He sat facing her with his odd eyes -glancing hither and thither, the brows above them jerking continually. -"She certainly married in the deuce of a hurry," he remarked, after a -moment. "What made her do it, eh? I presume it was the old man? Did he -turn amorous, or what?" - -Mrs. Sheppard laughed rather pathetically and dried her eyes. "Oh, -dear, no! Giles was rather too severe. He was always willing to be -friendly, but Maud's attitude was so hostile that at last--it was hardly -to be wondered at--he turned against her. I was very sorry, but, you -know, Maud always takes things so seriously, poor child, and she -wouldn't hear of making friends when it was over, but must needs go -straight away to Jake Bolton and offer to marry him. He was ready to -take her at any price of course. So they settled it all between them -with never a word to me." - -"But you haven't altogether enlightened me even now," said Saltash, -recalling her with his semi-ironical courtesy. "What was this dire -offence that Maud couldn't bring herself to forgive? I should like to -know for my own future guidance." - -Mrs. Sheppard's laugh had a deprecating note. "Oh, it was only a little -thing, quite a little thing. If she hadn't been really spoilt all her -life, I don't think she would have thought so much of it. I blame -myself of course. But there, what is the use? Giles is a plain man, -and he believes in a little wholesome chastisement now and then. It does -a woman good, he says. And I daresay he is not altogether wrong. But -in this case----" - -"Oh, forgive me for interrupting you!" Rather lazily he cut her short. -"That term 'a little wholesome chastisement'--does it mean a beating or -what?" - -Mrs. Sheppard nodded with some agitation. "Yes, he gave her a whipping -one night. It was very unfortunate, but I must say, not wholly -undeserved. And I am afraid he had rather a heavy hand. Poor Maud was -very much upset." - -"Really!" said Saltash. - -"Yes. He shouldn't have done it of course, but----" - -"He probably was not in a state to know what he was doing," suggested -Saltash. - -There was a slight frown between his mobile brows, but his voice was -suave. - -Mrs. Sheppard eyed him wistfully. "Poor Giles!" she murmured. - -Saltash uttered a sudden sharp laugh and rose. "Well, I mustn't take up -any more of your valuable time. No doubt you are busy. You have heard -about Bunny's prospects, I presume?" - -"Oh yes, they have told me about Bunny. I am sure I hope it will be a -success, but of course I have had no say in the matter," said Mrs. -Sheppard plaintively. "I don't so much as know when the operation is to -be performed." - -"That isn't finally settled," said Saltash. "It's to be according to -the American doctor man's convenience. I suggested that they might like -to make use of Burchester for the occasion, and Bolton has caught on to -the idea. Very sensible of him!" Saltash's mouth twisted into a faint -smile. "How do you get on with your son-in-law?" he enquired -pleasantly. - -Mrs. Sheppard shook her head dubiously. "I never liked him. There is -something of the wild about him. Maud doesn't like him either. I am -sure of that. They are complete strangers, and always will be. In -fact, if it weren't for Bunny--" she lowered her voice--"I believe she -would very soon desert him." - -"What? Really?" said Saltash, in a peculiar tone. - -She met his interrogation with a swift upward glance. "She would never -stand life alone with him. It would drive her desperate. I am -sure--quite sure--if it comes to that, she will somehow break free." - -"Really!" he said again, subtle encouragement in his voice. - -Mrs. Sheppard suddenly clasped her hands against her bosom and went -close to him. "Oh, Charlie, I do think--sometimes--divorce is the only -way. You know she has always loved you. And it isn't your fault you -came too late. Charlie, if the chance were to come to you again--the -chance to make her your wife--you wouldn't--surely you couldn't--let it -slip again?" - -"Again!" said Saltash. His lip lifted a little. He was looking at her -fixedly. - -She made a small nervous gesture of pleading. "You would marry her, -Charlie, if you could. She loves you. You would never--never----" - -"Let her down?" suggested Saltash. - -His expression was utterly cynical, yet something in those queer eyes of -his emboldened her. She placed her two hands against his shoulders, and -suffered the tears to run down her face. - -"Charlie, I am wretched about her--quite wretched. Save her from that -rough cow-herd, Charlie! Make her your own--in spite of all!" - -She broke down into muffled sobbing, and would have leaned upon him for -support had he permitted it. But with gentle decision he eluded her, -taking her hands and leading her to a chair. - -"Now, Lady Brian, there is no need for this agitation, believe me. For -the present there is nothing to be done. Bunny occupies the centre of -the stage. He won't, of course, remain there for ever, but he has got -to have his turn. Till that is over, we can only possess our souls in -patience." - -"But afterwards!" wailed Mrs. Sheppard. "It is the afterwards that -troubles me." - -"Afterwards," he said lightly, "I presume it will be someone else's -turn." - -"And Maud will be miserable," she protested. - -Saltash was silent. Only after a moment he strolled to the window and -stood looking at the grey, tumbling waves that dashed against the -sea-wall. - -Mrs. Sheppard dabbed her eyes and began to recover herself; it was -plainly the only course. She remembered regretfully that sympathy had -never been dear Charlie's strong point. - -When he glanced over his shoulder a few seconds later she mustered a -somewhat piteous smile. "Life is very difficult sometimes," she said -apologetically. - -"Oh, quite damnable," he answered, in his careless, mocking way. "But -we've got to get through with it somehow, and with as few tumbles as -possible. I really think I must be going now. We shall let you know -when anything definite is settled about Bunny. Don't fret, you know! -Take it easy!" - -He came back to her with the words and took her hand with a certain -arrogant kindness characteristic of him. - -She looked up at him with quivering lips. "It is so good of you to let -them have Burchester," she said. - -He made her a brief bow. "I serve my own ends," he said. - -Mrs. Sheppard rose. "And I don't know what will happen when Bunny is -cured," she said pathetically. "He will have to go to school. And who -is going to pay for it, I wonder?" - -Saltash shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps he'll train for a jockey. Who -knows?" - -Mrs. Sheppard sighed. "I can't think how you can treat everything as a -joke. I can't myself." - -He laughed. "I don't chance to be gifted with a serious mind, you see. -Besides, _cui bono_? Does worrying help?" - -"I'm sure it ought to," sighed Mrs. Sheppard. - -He laughed again derisively. "Sheer waste of time, believe me. Either -fight or submit to the inevitable! Personally, I prefer to fight." He -shut his teeth with a sudden click, and for a single instant his face -was grim. But the next he was laughing again. "Good-bye, Lady Brian! -In the name of beauty, don't fret! It can't be done with impunity, -remember!" He pressed her hand and released it. "You've given me quite -a lot to think about. It's been an interesting conversation. I have -quite enjoyed it. Good-bye!" - -He was gone. She heard him departing, light-footed as a happy boy, -whistling under his breath an old, old waltz refrain. - -Gradually a smile came into her own face as she turned to the glass to -repair the ravages of her recent emotion. - -"I wonder whether he will do anything," she murmured to her reflection. -"He isn't a man to sit still. And really, the circumstances are so -exceptional. It is the only solution--literally the only one." She -paused a moment, drew out a hairpin, twisted back a curl and very nicely -readjusted it. "And when Giles is bankrupt," she added, with a little -nod to the thoughtful gaze that met hers, "there will be a home for me -to go to." She heaved a pensive sigh. "I am glad he knows everything," -she said. "There is nothing like telling the whole truth." - -She smiled again with more assurance, and went her way. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII - - THE FURNACE - - -It was on a frosty morning in February that Maud stood in one of the -great guest-chambers of Burchester Castle, waiting with Bunny for news -of Dr. Capper's coming. - -A nurse was busy in the room, and the hour fixed for the operation was -drawing near. - -Bunny was full of pluck that morning. He had greeted her bravely -smiling. Yes, he had slept like a top, thanks to Jake, who had held his -hand half the night and scared away the bogies. Jake was a stunner; he -was going to pay him back some day. And what a ripping room Charlie had -given him! Was it true that there was a music-room close by? That -would be ripping too. Maud would be able to play to him all day long -while he was getting well. Maud was looking a bit blue this morning; -what was the matter? - -She had to admit that she had passed a restless night. - -"Silly!" said Bunny, and squeezed her hand. "Why didn't you come and -sleep in here? Jake could have looked after you too then." - -He chattered on incessantly, making her respond, compelling her -attention, till news was brought to her of Dr. Capper's arrival, and she -went down to receive him. - -She found him standing in the great entrance hall with the doctor from -Fairharbour. He moved forward to greet her as serenely as if he had -come upon pleasure bent. - -"Delighted to meet you again, Mrs. Bolton. I am just admiring this fine -old English castle. Guess it's the sort of setting that suits you." - -He held her hand a moment and looked at her, but he made no comment upon -her appearance. - -She faced the green eyes with an odd little feeling of shame. They -seemed to see so much that she hid from all the world. - -"You are very--punctual," she said, with an effort, as she turned to -greet the local doctor. "I hope you found the car ready at the -station." - -"We were driven up by his lordship himself," said Capper. - -She gave a great start. "O! Has he come down? I didn't know." - -"He joined us at the terminus quite unexpectedly," Capper told her. "I -have brought my assistant Rafford to administer the anaesthetic. -Rafford, where are you?" - -A dark young man, with absolutely black eyes and a high, dominant -forehead, turned sharply from a rapt contemplation of Saltash's -_Captured Angel_, and bowed automatically to Maud. - -"I was just trying to make out the anatomy of those wings," he said, in -a very pronounced American accent. "Guess it's a cute addition to the -human frame, but I'd like to know how it's worked from the spinal column -without an extra vertebra or two." - -Maud suddenly felt hysterical. She looked at Capper, who pulled at his -beard and smiled. - -"Guess it's up to you to find the solution, Raff," he said. - -Rafford bowed again. "I'd like to make a sketch of that figure if Lady -Saltash will permit me," he said. "It's an anatomical problem." - -The blood rose to Maud's pale face in a great wave. She was about to -speak, when a voice at her shoulder spoke for her. - -"I am sure Lady Saltash will be charmed to do so. But I think the face -must be excluded. That can scarcely be of any anatomical interest to -you." - -Maud started. Saltash's hand gripped her elbow for a moment and -instantly relaxed. He did not speak to her. The young American glanced -back at the face of the statue, stared at it for a second, then looked -again at Maud. She saw his thin black brows rise ever so slightly. - -"The face is certainly of interest," he said, speaking with evident -caution; "but not, as you say, my lord, from an anatomical point of -view." - -He withdrew himself with the words, seemed as it were to became Capper's -background, while Saltash sauntered forward to offer refreshment. - -Capper asked for coffee and smoked a cigarette. He sat in an ungainly -attitude by the fire while these were in process of consumption, and -spoke scarcely at all. Maud stood near him in silence, chafing at the -delay, yet dreading unspeakably the moment when it should be at an end. - -Saltash lounged smoking on a settee with Dr. Burrowes of Fairharbour, -and chatted cheerily about local matters with one eye on the great -American surgeon who sat cracking his long fingers so abstractedly -before the fire. - -Suddenly Capper turned his head and looked up at Maud. "Where is Jake?" - -"He is coming," she made answer. - -"Coming! Why? Does the boy want him? Is he nervous any?" - -"He is being very brave," she said. "But of course, naturally, he is -nervous." - -He nodded. "Well, I guess we needn't wait for Jake. Let's go up! He'll -keep a stiff upper lip if you're there." - -He got up with the words; his bony, yellow hand closed upon her arm, -kindly, reassuringly, confidently. - -The burden of her anxiety grew magically lighter. She felt immensely -comforted by reason of that friendly pressure. She prepared to lead the -way. - -Capper paused a moment. "I am going to have five minutes' talk with the -patient," he said to Dr. Burrowes. "Will you be kind enough to follow on -when the time is up? Raff, you can make your anatomical study right -now, but be at my disposal in five minutes! Lord Saltash, maybe you -will stay behind and show them the way." - -He made his dispositions with the calm air of a man accustomed to -obedience; and then, his hand still upon Maud's arm, he turned with her -to ascend the stairs. - -A great shivering fit assailed her as they went. She fought it -resolutely down. - -"Say, you're not worrying any?" he questioned. "It seems to me that -it's you Jake ought to be thinking about. What have you been doing since -I saw you last?" - -"Nothing, nothing," she said hastily. - -Capper grunted. "That's a very unhealthy occupation, especially for a -woman." - -She looked at him appealingly. "Oh, please, Dr. Capper, don't talk -about me! I--I would so much rather not." - -Capper smiled a little. "You're a true woman. But I can't have you -worrying to death like this. Will you believe me when I tell you that -this operation is going to be an almighty success?" - -She stopped short. "Are you sure--quite sure?" she breathed. - -He nodded. "I am willing to stake my reputation on it. If I weren't -sure, I wouldn't touch it. I'm past the speculating age." He led her -gently on along the corridor at the head of the stairs. "You may bet -your last dollar," he said, "that I shan't mush up this business. I -never lose my patients when they're young and keen. It's the older -ones, when they get tired, fed up with life--" He paused, and a very -human shadow crossed his face, darkening his shrewd eyes. "That's when -God sometimes interferes," he said. "So I'm never quite sure of the -older ones. But the youngsters--He lets me have my own way with them. -There's such a mighty force in what the French call _joie de vivre_." - -A quick sigh rose to Maud's lips. She laid a sudden, impulsive hand -upon the long thin fingers that held her arm. "You are so good, so very -good," she said tremulously. - -Capper smiled. "Oh, just ordinary, I guess. Wait till you're up -against me! You won't like me then. I'm going to have a straight talk -with Jake presently--about you." - -She gave a quick start of dismay. "Oh no! Please don't! Please don't! -It--it's nothing to do with Jake. He wouldn't understand." - -"He'll understand me," said Capper inexorably. "I've a patent way of -expressing myself that leaves no room for misunderstandings. There! -Now I've given you something more important than your brother to think -about. Suppose you take me to him!" - -She would have detained him to protest still further, but he refused to -be detained, and she found herself compelled to yield. Very quietly he -insisted, and she had no choice. - -They entered the room in which Bunny lay; and immediately a square -check-clad figure rose from the boy's side and came forward with hand -outstretched in greeting. - -"Hullo, Doc!" said Jake. - -Maud gazed at him in astonishment. "I had no idea you were up here. -When--how did you come?" - -Jake was faintly smiling. "I came just now, by the back way, as is my -custom. I promised to be here to give him a send-off, Doctor. Guess -you've no objection?" - -"So long as you go when you're told," said Capper rather shortly. - -"Reckon I always do that," said Jake. - -"Do you?" said Capper, with his sudden smile. "That's not always been -my experience of you." - -"Oh, shucks!" said Jake, turning deep red. - -Capper passed him by, and went to Bunny. Maud saw that he was intent -upon reassuring him as he had reassured her. She turned away to the -window, and waited. - -Jake did not join her there, possibly because his hand was tightly -locked in Bunny's. But very soon Capper called her back to the bedside, -and drew her into talk, keeping her there till he finally rose and went -out with the nurse. - -Maud scarcely knew how she came through the next few minutes, but Jake -and Bunny seemed to feel no strain. Jake was talking of the horses, and -the boy's keenest interest was aroused. - -"And you're going to teach me to ride like you do," he said, with an -eagerness that Maud had seldom seen in him. "I'm just mad to begin." - -He was picking up Jake's manner of speech in a fashion that his sister -deplored but could not attempt to check; but no evil word had she ever -heard on his lips, nor had she ever heard Jake use bad language in his -presence. - -Like one in the mesh of an evil dream she listened to Jake's reply, -marvelling at the easy detachment with which he made it. And then the -door opened, and the nurse came in with Rafford. She stood up, her -heart beating as if it would choke her. - -Bunny shot a swift glance around. "You'll stay with me, Jake?" he said -quickly. - -"Sure," said Jake. - -Bunny drew a hard breath. "Hang on to me--tight, Jake!" he whispered. - -And Maud turned to the door without a word. He did not need her--he did -not need her! - -She had a passing impression of the sympathy in Rafford's eyes as he -held open the door for her, and then she was alone in the passage -outside. - -She moved along it uncertainly, almost as if groping her way, found the -door of the music-room ajar, and entered. - -A warm fragrance met her on the threshold, a sense of Eastern luxuriance -and delight, soothing her troubled spirit as with a soft, healing hand, -wooing her to a curious peace of mind. It was as though a misty veil -had been drawn over her troubles, obscuring them, deadening her faculty -for suffering. - -She went forward to the fire that burned so mysteriously red and still, -reaching out her cold hands to its comfort. She had a feeling that she -ought to kneel and pray, but somehow in that strangely soothing -atmosphere prayer was an impossibility. Her brain felt drugged and -powerless, and she was numbly thankful for the respite. - -"Come and sit down!" a cool voice said. - -She turned with no surprise or agitation and saw Saltash lounging on a -divan behind her. He had a cigarette between his fingers. The scent of -it came to her with a strange allurement. Almost mechanically she -accepted the invitation. - -"Have you been here at all in my absence?" he asked, stretching a -careless arm along the cushions behind her. - -She shook her head. "No." - -"But why not? Does Jake think I am not to be trusted?" - -She smiled at that. "Oh no. Jake never interferes. But--somehow--I -haven't wanted to make music lately." - -"You are not happy," said Saltash, with conviction. - -She coloured a little. "It has been an anxious time, Charlie, and, I am -afraid, yet will be." - -"You take things too hard," he said. - -She clasped her hands tightly together. "How can I help it? Everything -is hard. Life is hard." - -"Only if you choose to have it so," said Saltash. - -He leaned a little forward, looking into her face. She turned her eyes -to his with a vague reluctance. - -"Yes," he said. "You've got the wrong pilot on board. That's why you're -getting dragged into the whirlpools. You'll have to heave him over the -side if you want to ride the seas with a free helm. My dear girl, what -a frightful mess you've made of things!" - -She did not resent his tone. Somehow in that atmosphere resentment was -difficult. Moreover, her attention was not wholly given to what he was -saying. - -"I had to think of Bunny," she said, after a moment, as one in search of -an excuse. - -Saltash laughed. "And when are you going to begin to think of yourself? -Don't you realize what is going to happen now that Bunny has been taken -off your hands? You, the dainty, the proud, the fastidious, who wouldn't -look at even the man you loved because you thought him unworthy! On my -soul,--" a sudden tremor of passion ran through his speech--"I think you -were mad. You must have been mad to have done such a thing. Have you -looked forward at all? Can you see yourself a few years hence? I -can--and it's a sight to make angels weep. Oh, Maud, my love, my fate, -is that to be the end? I'd sooner see you dead!" - -His hand was upon both hers as he ended. His dark face was burning with -a fierce emotion. - -But Maud only shivered, and leaning forward, gazed deep into the heart -of the fire, saying no word. - -Saltash watched her, a mocking light in his eyes that shone and slowly -died. "What are you looking for?" he said. - -She shook her head in silence. He threw his cigarette suddenly into the -deep glow upon which her eyes were fixed. It leaped at once to flame, -flame that burned ardently for a brief while, and then went out. - -"Are you trying to find a way out?" he asked her then very softly. -"There is a way out of every hole, believe me." - -She gave him a quick glance as of one hard pressed, but still she did -not speak. - -He leaned forward also, pointing to the red heart of the fire that -glowed but never flickered. "If you have the nerve,--the pluck--to face -the furnace," he said, "it may scorch you a bit, but it shan't consume -you. And it would be soon over. Would you be afraid--would you be -afraid--to face it with me?" - -His voice was low, stink almost to a whisper; yet it reached her, for he -spoke almost into her ear. - -She sat rigidly still, gazing before her. The fragrance of the burnt -cigarette came out like incense from an altar. - -He drew a little closer to her. "Maud, I am always ready--always ready. -I am willing to offer any sacrifice. I should never count the cost. -Nothing could be too much. I don't say any more that you are -mine--unless you stoop to bestow yourself upon me. But I am -yours--always--for all time. Bear that in mind--when the time comes!" -He paused a moment; then: "Let that ring of ours be the sign and -message," he murmured. "When you need deliverance, I will come to you -from the world's end." - -He rose with the words, so suddenly that she was startled; and in a -moment his voice calm and debonair rang across the room. - -"Hullo, Bolton! How long have you been hiding there? Come over here, -and see if you can put a little heart into your wife! She needs it." - -Maud, her white face turned over her shoulder, saw Jake's square -shoulders outlined against the furthest south window. He was looking -over his shoulder also; their eyes met across the room. Then he turned -round fully in his solid way and came to them. - -He was wearing slippers that he had donned for the sick room, and they -made no sound. - -Saltash's lithe form straightened. He stood ready, almost on guard, at -the other man's approach. But his face remained debonair still. There -was even a hint of humour about his mobile brows. His eyes flashed -wickedly. - -"So they've turned you out, have they?" he said, with that hint of regal -haughtiness that usually characterized his speech when addressing an -inferior. - -Jake did not answer. His eyes, red-brown and very still, were upon -Maud. They did not leave her for a moment. They seemed to search her -through and through. - -There came to her a second of deadly panic, panic that stopped her -heart. She put up a hand to her throat with a spasmodic effort to -breathe. And suddenly it seemed to her that she sat engulfed in the -red, red heart of a soundless furnace. She gave a gasping cry, tried to -rise, and fell forward fainting at her husband's feet. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV - - THE SACRIFICE - - -He lifted her. She knew that he lifted her, but all her powers were -gone. She hung, a dead weight, in his arms. - -Over her head she heard his voice, intensely quiet but deeper than -usual; she thought it held a menacing note. - -"I'll take her to the window. Thanks, I'm not wanting any help from -you." - -She felt the strength of the man as he lifted her bodily, and bore her -across the room. He set her down upon the window-seat, supporting her -with the utmost steadiness while he opened the window. The wintry air -blew in upon her, and she shivered and came to life. - -"Don't move!" he said. - -The awful weakness was still upon her; she obeyed him because she had no -choice, lying back against his arm in quivering submission. - -"I'm--so sorry," she whispered at length. "I--I never did anything so -stupid before." - -"That so?" said Jake. - -She lifted her eyes with a piteous effort to his. "Please leave me now! -I shall do quite well--by myself." - -"That so?" he said again. - -His eyes held hers with a piercing, straight regard; but after a moment -his hand came up and rubbed her icy cheek. It was a small act, but it -affected her very curiously. She turned her face quickly to hide a rush -of tears. - -Jake's attitude changed on the instant. He stooped over her, his arm -about her. "Say, Maud, my girl, what is it? What is it?" he said. "The -little chap will be all right. Don't you worry any!" - -The old kindness was in his voice; he held her to him just as he had -held her on the morning that she had first gone to him for help. For -the moment she yielded herself, scarcely knowing what she did; then she -realized his nearness and began to draw herself away. - -"I am foolish," she whispered, "just foolish. Don't take any notice!" - -"Guess you're worn out," he said gently. - -She shook her head, striving to master herself. "No, it's not that. It -isn't anything. Please leave me alone for a little! I would rather." - -He let her go, but he still remained beside her, looking down at her -bent dark head. She leaned against the woodwork of the window, panting -a little. - -"I am better," she said uneasily, after a moment. "Please don't worry -about me any more!" - -"Who else should I worry about?" he said. "Do you suppose you aren't -first with me every time?" - -She quivered at the question, but she made no attempt to answer it. - -He went on with a restraint that was somehow eloquent of vehemence -suppressed. "I know well enough that you aren't happy with me. It's -not in nature that you should be. Maybe it's my fault too; maybe it's -not. I've been a damn' fool; I know that. But even so, you've no call -to be afraid of me. You won't come up against me if you play a straight -game." - -He paused, and she saw his hands slowly clench. At the same moment she -became aware of someone approaching, and turned her head to see Saltash -coming towards her with a wine-glass in his hand. - -"Oh, that's right; you're better," he said. "Here, Bolton! Make her -drink this! It'll put a little life into her." - -He gave the glass to Jake who stood a moment as if undecided as to what -to do with it, then bent over Maud. - -She drew back. "Oh no, thank you! I never drink brandy. Besides, I am -quite well again now." - -She made as if she would get up to demonstrate this fact, but he stopped -her. "Take a little!" he drawled. "Lord Saltash has had the trouble of -fetching it." - -"I would rather not," she said. "I would much rather not." - -"Let her please herself!" said Saltash sharply. - -But Jake's hand, steady as rock, was already holding the glass to her -lips. She drank as one compelled. - -Saltash fidgeted up and down in front of the window in evident -dissatisfaction, his ugly face full of lines. "I am infernally sorry -this has happened," he said. "You ought to have had the stuff sooner. -I wish I had ordered champagne. We'll have some presently. Ah, that'll -do, Jake, that'll do! Don't force it on her, for Heaven's sake! Look -here, you and I will clear out now, and let her rest in front of the -fire. You'd like that, Maud, wouldn't you?" - -Maud murmured an affirmative. - -"Sure?" said Jake. - -She looked up at him. "Yes; but not too near the fire. And--and leave -the door open. I want to hear--to know--" Her voice failed, sank into -silence. - -"All right," Jake said quietly. "I'm not leaving you till it's over." - -The calm decision of his speech silenced all protest. Maud attempted -none. Saltash shrugged his shoulders and flung round on his heel. Jake -bent to offer a steady arm. - -She accepted his support in silence. There was that about him that -would not brook resistance just then. She was sure that Saltash was -aware of it also, for after a very brief pause he began to whistle under -his breath and in a very few moments more sauntered from the room. - -Jake, very quiet and determined, led her to a settee. - -"I won't lie down," she said restlessly. "I want to listen." - -Jake was looking round for a chair. Failing to see one, he seated -himself by her side. "I reckon this is the most respectable piece of -furniture in the place," he observed. "Here is a cushion. Lean back and -shut your eyes!" - -"I wish you wouldn't wait here," she murmured uneasily. - -"I've got to wait somewhere," said Jake. - -And then his hand descended upon hers and held it. - -She started at his touch, seeking instinctively to free herself, but in -the end she yielded, lying back in a tense stillness in which she knew -the beating of her heart to be clearly audible. - -What was he going to say to her? What had he overheard? What must he -think of the agitation she had displayed upon discovering him? - -Her breath quivered through her parted lips. The dread of the night -before was upon her, but ten times magnified by her present weakness and -the thought of that which he might have overheard. - -But Jake sat in unbroken silence, his hand holding hers in a steady, -purposeful grasp; and gradually, very gradually, her fear began to -subside. He could have heard nothing! Surely he could have heard -nothing! Surely, if he had, he would have spoken, have questioned--or -accused! - -A great shiver went through her. - -"Cold?" said Jake. - -She opened her eyes. "No." - -His hand closed more firmly about her own. "Don't be so anxious!" he -said. "It'll be all right." - -His voice was kind, she tried to smile. - -"Was he--was he very nervous?" she asked, finding relief in speech. - -"Game all through," said Jake. "Went off like a baby. Say, Maud, he'll -be a fine man some day." - -"He'll never be mine any more," she said, and turned her face aside. - -Jake said nothing. He fell into a musing silence that seemed to stretch -and widen to an unknown abyss between them. She closed her eyes, hoping -that he would think her sleeping. - -He remained absolutely still by her side while the silence lengthened -and deepened. She wondered for a while if ha were watching her, -wondered if he were actually as free from anxiety on Bunny's account as -he appeared, became finally vaguely aware of a curious hushed sense of -repose stealing over her tired nerves. She drifted away at last into a -state that was not quite slumber, that yet held her trance-like and -unaware of time. She knew that Jake was beside her, never wholly forgot -his presence, but he had ceased to have a disquieting effect upon her. -Somehow he fitted into the atmosphere of peace that surrounded her. She -was even dimly glad that he had not left her alone. She was tired, -unutterably tired, but her mind had ceased to work at the problems that -so vexed her soul; it had become as it were dormant. Even the thought -of Bunny did not disturb her any more. Had not Dr. Capper solemnly -declared that all would be well? - -So she sank into an ever-deepening sea of oblivion, unmindful of the -hand that so surely held her own; and so that long, long hour crept by. - -When there came at last the opening of a door and the sound of voices -she was too far away in her merciful dreamland to hear. She knew in a -vague fashion that Jake's hand left hers, even murmured a faint protest, -but she did not attempt to rouse herself. She had yielded too -completely to the healing magic of rest. - -There followed a space during which all consciousness was entirely -blotted out and she slept like a weary child, a space that seemed to -last interminably, and yet was all too short. Then at length nature or -conscience stirred within her, and her brain began to work once more. -Out of a vague obscurity of dimly registered impressions the light of -understanding began to dawn. She opened heavy eyes upon the red, still -fire that burned so steadily, so unfailingly. It put her in mind of -something--that hot, silent fire--but she could not remember what it -was; something that was vigilant, intense, unquenchable, something that -she could never wholly grasp or wholly elude. - -She opened her eyes a little wider, and moved her head upon the cushion. -Surely she had slept for a long, long time! - -And then she caught the sound of a voice that whispered--a low, clear -whisper. - -"Why don't you take her for a honeymoon, my son? It would do you both -all the good in the world." - -There was a pause, and then someone--Jake--murmured something -unintelligible. Maud raised herself slightly and saw him standing -before the fire. His thick-set figure was turned from her. His head -leaned somewhat dejectedly against the high mantelpiece. - -Capper was standing beside him, lounging against the carved wood in an -ungainly attitude, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. At Jake's -muttered words he turned and looked at him keenly, with eyes of -semi-quizzical sympathy. - -"Say, Jake," he said, "the man who walks his horse along a hedge-side -never gets there. The hedge has a way of getting higher, moreover, -every step he goes. Guess being in love has kind of demoralized you. -You'll never win out this way." - -Jake moved a little, straightened himself, stood squarely facing the -great doctor. "I'm going to win out," he said; and with that very -abruptly he wheeled round and came straight to Maud, as though she had -called him. - -So sudden was his movement that she was taken wholly by surprise. He -stooped over her and took her hand before she had time to draw back. - -"It's all right, my girl," he said, and she heard a note of reassurance -in his voice. "The little chap's come through it finely. There's -nothing to be anxious about. Capper says so; and whatever Capper says -goes." - -"Guess that's so," said Capper. He remained at his post by the fire, a -smile of keen satisfaction on his parchment face. "You shall see him -presently; not yet, not for another hour, and then only for a few -seconds. He's got to be kept as quiet as an infant. But I've done just -what I figured to do. In another six weeks he ought to be learning to -walk." - -"Bunny--walking!" Maud spoke the words as one dazed. The whole of her -world seemed suddenly to have changed. It was as if she actually -breathed a new atmosphere. She caught her breath, feeling half afraid. -"Is it--is it true?" she said. - -Capper laughed. "Seems like a miracle, does it? Never met with a -miracle before? Yet there's quite a lot of 'em to be seen in this -curious old world. Maybe you'll come across some more, now you've -started." - -He came quietly to her, bent and took her free hand into his. She felt -his thin, sensitive fingers press her pulse. - -"I'm quite well indeed," she said in a tone of protest. "Please tell me -more about Bunny. I want to hear everything." - -"My dear lady, you know practically all there is to know," he made -answer. "Bunny is going to be one of my proudest successes. But -there's just one thing to be arranged, I want to have him under my own -eye for a time. It's for his own good, so I know your consent is a -foregone conclusion. No, not yet of course. I will give him a month -here, and then I want to fetch him up to London and keep him in a Home -there belonging to my colleague Sir Kersley Whitton until I am able to -discharge him as cured. Will you agree to that?" - -His eyes, shrewd and kindly, looked down into hers. His hand still held -her wrist. She felt the magic of his personality, and found it hard to -resist. - -But, "To take him away from me!" she said rather piteously. "Must you -take him away?" - -Jake had withdrawn a little as if he did not wish to take part in the -conversation. Capper sat down beside her. - -"Mrs. Bolton," he said, "I guess that young brother of yours is just one -of the biggest factors of your existence. Isn't that so? You'd do -anything for him, and never count the cost. Well, here's something you -can do for him, a mighty big thing too. It'll be a very critical time, -and I want to have him under my own eye. I also want to have complete -control of him. I'm not hinting that your influence isn't good. I know -it is. But, for all that, he'll do better with comparative strangers -during that critical time than he would with his own people. I want to -lift him entirely out of the old ruts. I want to start him on an -entirely new footing, to give him self-reliance, to get him into good, -wholesome habits. It'll make all the difference in the world to him or -I shouldn't be urging it so strongly. Say, now, you promised me your -co-operation, you are not going to refuse?" - -She could not refuse. She realized it with a leaden heart. Yet she made -one quivering attempt to pierce through the ever-narrowing circle. - -"But the cost," she said. - -"It won't cost you a single cent," said Capper. "It's just for my -private satisfaction that it will be done." - -Her last hope faded. She made a little gesture of helplessness. "He is -in your hands, Doctor," she said. "I--I am much more grateful to you -than I seem." - -Capper's hand pressed hers. "You will never regret this sacrifice as -long as you live," he said, looking at her with his keen, kindly eyes. -"I'm even ready to prophesy that you'll one day reap a very considerable -benefit from it." - -But Maud's only answer was a dreary little shake of the head. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV - - OFFER OF FREEDOM - - -Slowly the dreary winter days gave place to spring. March came with -gusty rain-storms that swept over sea and downs; lashing the waves to -fury, blotting the countryside like a torn veil. March went, smiling -and wonderful, with a treacherous graciousness that deceived all nature -into imagining that the winter was really gone. - -At Burchester Castle, Bunny, lying perpetually flat on his back by the -doctor's unalterable decree, alternated between fits of bitter -complaining and fits of black despair. He suffered more from tedium and -weariness than from any definite pain, and Maud found herself fully -occupied once more with the care of him. The nurse was thankful to have -her at hand, for Bunny was at all times a difficult patient. And to be -in attendance upon him was Maud's greatest joy in those days. She -watched over him with such a wealth of devotion as she had never -displayed before, a devotion at which even the boy himself sometimes -marvelled. - -Jake came and went, but he was never with him at night. The nurse slept -in his room and Maud in the one adjoining. Jake went back to his home to -sleep. - -He and Maud saw but little of each other. They met daily, but she -avoided all intercourse with him so strenuously that only the most -ordinary commonplaces ever passed between them. - -She saw much more of Saltash, though he was often away. His comings and -goings were never known beforehand, and he never intruded himself upon -her. Only when she went in the afternoons or evenings to the music-room -and, propping the door wide, played and sometimes sang to Bunny, he had -a fashion of coming lightly in upon her, dropping as it seemed from -nowhere, and lying outstretched upon the settee near her while he smoked -his endless cigarettes, and occasionally criticized. - -How he entered she never discovered; he was always there before she -knew, and he never came in by the door. When she asked him, he would -only jest. - -"Some day I will show you my secret chamber, _ma belle reine_. But not -yet--not yet." - -No intimate conversation took place at these times. They were seldom -really alone, being always within call of Bunny's imperious voice. - -Saltash was very good to Bunny, but his company was considered by the -nurse to be too lively for her patient, and she would not permit him to -stay long in the sick-room. Her orders regarding Bunny were very strict. -He was to be kept quiet,--contented also, if possible, but always quiet. - -For that reason his mother's visits were also very brief. She did not -often come to the Castle. It seemed to Maud that her plump face was -beginning to wear a harassed look, but there never had been any -confidence between them, and she did not like to question her. She knew -herself quite powerless to assist in the bearing of her mother's -burdens. - -During that final month of devotion to Bunny she gave herself up to him -so completely that even her own problems grew remote and almost unreal. -She was upon the usual friendly terms with Charlie; but he was very far -from occupying her first attention. So absorbed indeed was she that the -memory of their brief conversation on the day of Bunny's operation, -together with his mad, characteristic suggestion, had faded altogether -into the background of her mind. It seemed somehow impossible that -Bunny could ever cease to be the centre and aim of her whole conscious -existence, impossible that Capper and his miracles could so alter the -trend of her life's destiny. - -Her feeling for Saltash seemed to be lying dormant, very far below the -surface. She was not thinking of herself at all just then. She was too -fully occupied. Her feeling for Jake also was almost a blank. Now that -he no longer attempted to play any part in her life but that of passive -spectator, she treated him without conscious effort as a comparative -stranger. But all the time deep down in her heart she smothered that -nameless dread of the man that once had been so active. She did not -want to think of him; she instinctively restrained herself from thinking -of him. She had schooled herself to meet him without agitation. She had -thrust him unresisting into the furthest background of her -consciousness. And now she lived for Bunny, and for Bunny alone. - -So that last month slipped away. - -April came, but no word from Capper. A faint, new hope began to dawn in -her heart. Was it possible that the sacrifice might not after all be -demanded of her? Was it possible that the miracle might even yet be -worked out with much patience at Burchester? Bunny did not seem to be -making much progress, but at least she was sure he was not losing -ground. He did not suffer so much as formerly, though his chafing -irritability sometimes seemed to her to be even greater than before. He -talked incessantly of Capper, urging Jake to write to him. - -But Jake would not be persuaded. "Capper knows his own business, my -son. You leave him alone!" he said. - -And Bunny had perforce to accept the fiat. He never seriously attempted -to resist Jake. Their friendship was too near for that. Jake's -influence over him was practically boundless. - -But he could not check the boy's fierce impatience which grew -perceptibly from day to day. - -It was on a warm afternoon towards the middle of the month that Maud was -sitting at the piano, trying to soothe him with the music he loved, -during the absence of the nurse, when the sound of a footfall in the -room made her turn. Saltash had been away for a few days, but she was -half-expecting him. He never remained away for long. - -"Why, Charlie,--" she began, with a quick smile of welcome, and broke -off sharply. It was Capper. - -Her face must have displayed something more than surprise, she reflected -later, for his first words, albeit he smiled whimsically as he uttered -them, were words of apology. - -"So sorry, Mrs. Bolton. I shouldn't have taken you off your guard like -this, only I had a notion that being somewhat over-due, you might be -more or less prepared to see me." - -She left the piano, and went with outstretched hand to meet him. "You -at last!" she said. - -Her welcome was cordial, but it was wholly without eagerness. Her heart -was beating wildly, uncontrollably. She felt suddenly cold, as if she -had stepped into a stone vault. - -Capper bent a little over her hand; she saw his eyes flash over her. "I -don't find the frog in attendance," he remarked. "Has he been shunted -for a spell?" - -She felt her colour come again. "Don't you want to hear about Bunny?" -she said. - -He smiled at her. "I know my own business so well, madam, that I know -all I need to know about Bunny," he told her dryly. "The boy is just -mad to be allowed to try his strength, and between you and me he'll have -about the biggest disappointment of his life when he does. It won't do -him any harm though, so don't you worry any!" He suddenly held up her -hand to the light and surveyed it critically. "Say, Mrs. Bolton," he -said, "what do you live on? Just monkey-nuts?" - -She laughed in spite of herself. "I live very well, I assure you. But -I could never get fat. It's not my nature." - -He grunted and pulled at his yellow beard. "Do you realize that you've -lost pounds of flesh since it was first my privilege to meet you?" - -She shook her head protestingly. "Oh no, really. It is your -imagination." - -Capper shook his head also. "My imagination feeds on facts only. Jake -is not looking after you properly. It's my belief he is treating you to -slow starvation." - -"Oh indeed--indeed," she broke in with vehemence, "Jake has had nothing -to do with me lately. I have been much too busy with Bunny, and he has -had the good sense not to interfere." - -"Is that good sense?" said Capper, in the tone of one who does not -require an answer. - -"Besides," she went on rather breathlessly, "it's not Jake's business to -look after me." - -"I thought that was what husbands were for," said Capper, with his -whimsical smile. "It's a fool policy anyway to leave a woman to look -after herself, and you're just a living illustration of that fact." - -Her hands clasped his arm almost unconsciously. "Please--please don't -ever discuss me again with Jake!" she begged in tones of distress. - -He patted her hand with fatherly reassurance and passed the matter by. -"What are you going to do when Bunny is gone?" he asked. - -Her face paled again. "You are really going to take him away?" she -said. - -"To-morrow," said Capper. - -She removed her hands with a gesture that was piteous, she said nothing -whatever. - -Capper turned aside. "Maybe you'll take up housekeeping," he said -practically. "If I dare to venture upon the suggestion, you would make -a charming hostess." - -She was silent still. - -He glanced at her. "Say, Mrs. Bolton," he said, "I guess you'll think -me several kinds of a nuisance; but your husband has offered me his -hospitality for to-night. And I,--well, I have accepted it -provisionally, that is, on the condition that he can supply me with a -hostess." - -She looked at him in blank dismay. "But I sleep here!" she said. "I--I -must be always at hand in case Bunny should want me." - -"Isn't the nurse in attendance?" asked Capper, with a touch of -sharpness. - -"Oh, of course," she answered. "But--but----" - -"And how often in the night does she generally call you?" - -Maud was silent. - -Capper's hand patted her shoulder again, paternally, admonishingly. -"Guess he could spare you for to-night," he said. "Pack your grip and -come home! Jake will be pleased to see you, sure." - -She shivered. "It isn't home to me," she said. - -"What?" said Capper. "Not your husband's house?" - -The hot colour rushed up over her face. She turned from him. "Come and -see Bunny!" she said. - -A few minutes later she stood alone in the music-room, gazing forth from -the western window with eyes that seemed to search the horizon for help. - -Capper was occupied with Bunny. The nurse had returned, and she was not -needed. The certainty of this was upon her, a dead weight pressing her -down. Bunny's need of her was past forever. Duty, stark and -implacable, was all that remained in life. - -Ah! A step behind her! She turned swiftly. "Charlie!" - -He came to her, a smile on his swarthy face, a gleam of wickedness in -his eyes. He took the hands that almost involuntarily she stretched to -him. "You summoned me!" he said. - -Something in his look warned her of danger. His clasp was electric in -its tenseness. - -She stood a moment before replying; then: "I didn't so much as know you -were in the house," she said. - -She left her hands in his. An odd recklessness was upon her, the -recklessness born of despair. - -He laughed into her eyes. "Yet you summoned me, most tragic queen of -the roses," he said. "You weren't so much as thinking of me, perhaps? -Yet subconsciously your spirit cried to mine, and behold--I am here." - -He had drawn her close to him, holding her hands against his breast, so -that the quick, ardent beat of his heart came to her, sending a curious, -half-reluctant thrill through her own. - -She looked into his face of mocking subtleties. "No, I wasn't thinking -of you, Charlie," she said. "I was thinking of myself, hating the life -before me--hating everything!" - -The concentrated bitterness of her speech was almost like a challenge. -She spoke passionately, as one goaded, not caring what came of it. - -Saltash was bending slowly towards her, still laughing, ready to take -refuge in a joke if refuge were needed, yet daring also, warily marking -his game. "Why don't you think of me--for a change?" he said. - -She turned her face swiftly aside. Her lips were suddenly quivering. -"No one--not even you--can help me now," she said. - -"You are wrong," he answered instantly. "I can help you. It's just -what I'm here for." - -She glanced at him again. "As a friend, Charlie?" she said. - -He bent his dark head over her hands. "Yes, a friend," he said. - -"But--" She began to tremble; the old dread was upon her, the old -instinctive recoil, the old ache of distrust. She set her hands against -him, holding him from her. "How can you help me?" she said. - -He did not lift his head. "I can't keep you out of the furnace -altogether," he said. "But I can save you from living in bondage to a -man you loathe. You will have to trust me--to a certain extent. Do you -trust me?" - -"I don't know." Her voice was low, quivering with an agitation she -could not repress. "Tell me what you are thinking of! Tell me -how--how----" - -"I will tell you," he said, "when you have made up your mind as to my -trustworthiness." - -She controlled her agitation with an effort. "Oh, don't play with me, -Charlie!" she besought him. "Don't you see I'm cornered--desperate? Of -course I will trust you." - -He looked up at her with a wry lift of one eyebrow. "Being a case of -needs must," he observed dryly. "Well, my dear girl, the case is simple -enough. You are ready to trust me because you must. No one else is -under the same obligation. Everyone else--the worthy cow-puncher -included--knows my fascinating reputation. Disappear with me for a week -or so--we'll run away and hide--and all charitably-minded folks will -jump to the obvious conclusion. The result will be an undefended divorce -suit, and I shall pay the damages." His smile became a grimace. "That -is your road to freedom, _ma belle reine_," he said. "And think on me, I -pray thee, when that freedom shall be achieved! There are sunnier lands -than England where lovely ladies may be wooed by wandering cavaliers. -And surely, surely," his smile flashed forth again, "having thus made -such atonement for past offences as lies in my power, my queen would -stoop to be gracious to me at last!" - -He bent again over her hands, holding them pressed to his lips. - -Maud stood mute. The audacity of the suggestion seemed to deprive her -of the power of speech. None but Charlie could ever have evolved such a -plan. None but Charlie--who loved her! - -The sudden realization of his love went through her like a sword-thrust -in her heart. She actually gasped with the pain of it. What he -suggested was impossible of course--of course! But how gallantly, and -withal how tenderly, he had laid the offer before her, urging no claim, -merely--out of the love he still had for her--offering her deliverance! - -But she must find an answer for him. He was waiting, bent in courtly -fashion, with that kinglike carelessness of pose that marked him out -from all other men. - -She looked at the bowed head that could be poised so arrogantly, and -suddenly her eyes were full of tears. She made a movement to withdraw -her hands. - -"Oh, Charlie," she said, in a broken, passionate whisper, "if I were -only free!" - -He raised his head on the instant. "But you can be free. I am offering -you freedom. A little courage, a little confidence! Can't you face it -with me? Are you afraid?" - -His voice was eager, his eyes were shining and boyishly persuasive. His -hands still clasped hers with a pressure so vital and insistent that she -felt impelled to suffer it. - -She shook her head. "No, Charlie. It isn't that. But--but--my -promise!" - -"Oh, what of that?" he said impetuously. "A promise made under -compulsion is no bond at all. You can't keep it and yet be true to -yourself. The mistake lay in making it. But to stick to it would be -worse than madness. Listen; Maud! You must listen! Your marriage is -an abomination, and you must rid yourself of it, whatever the cost. I -can see--I have seen all along--that it is an absolute violation of your -whole nature. You shrink from the man. I believe in your soul you abhor -him. You did it on impulse. He knows that. And you have repented ever -since. Your heart was never in it. I think I know where your heart -is,"--his voice suddenly softened, and his hand began subtly to draw her -back to him. "But we won't discuss that now. It isn't the time. I am -concerned only to deliver you. And I am offering you such deliverance -as you can accept, a deliverance that you can safely contemplate without -shrinking. The publicity of the thing need never touch you personally. -You can live in seclusion till it is all forgotten. Maud, my Maud, -won't you--can't you--trust an old friend?" His hands were drawing her -closer. His dark face, aglow with the ardour of his quest, was close to -hers. "You want to be free," he urged. "And--my darling,--I want you -free, I want you free!" - -His voice throbbed into silence. He was drawing her--drawing her. In -another moment he would have had her in his arms, but she held back from -him with quivering, desperate strength. "No, Charlie! No!" she said -gaspingly. - -He released her hands at once, and abruptly. With a species of royal -indifference curiously characteristic of him, he veiled his ardour. "It -is for you to choose," he said. "I don't take. I offer." Then, as she -covered her face, he softened again, took her suddenly, very lightly, by -the shoulders. "Have I gone too far, queen of the roses?" he whispered. -"Yet he will go further still. It is that that I want to save you from. -You must forgive me, sweet, if I seem too anxious. I am hard pressed -myself. I want you badly enough, it's true. But that isn't my main -reason for urging this. If you had married a man you cared for, I could -have borne it. But this,--this is intolerable. There! I have done. -Only remember, that I am ready--I am always ready. I shall wait for you -by day and by night. Sooner or later--sooner or later, I know you will -come. Don't be afraid to come, Queen Maud! I will be to you whatever -you wish always. I only ask to serve you." - -Rapidly he uttered the low words, still holding her with a touch that -was scarcely perceptible, but of which she was so vividly conscious that -she quivered from head to foot, every nerve stretched and vibrant, -burningly alive, chafing to respond. - -The wild impulse to yield herself to his arms, casting away all -shackles, was for the moment almost overpowering. Her spirit leapt to -the call of his, beating fiercely for freedom like a caged bird viewing -its mate in the open sky. How she restrained it she knew not. Perhaps -it was fear, perhaps it was that old, instinctive sense of fitness that -had influenced her long ago. But the moment passed, and she remained -motionless. - -Saltash turned aside. - -He betrayed no sign of disappointment. That also was characteristic of -him. He saw no defeat in failure. He regarded it only as victory -postponed. - -And his attitude said as much when after a moment or two he began to -speak in a light and careless strain of matters indifferent to them -both. If he had not squarely hit his mark, he was not far therefrom, -and with that he was content. He knew her to be nearer to his level -than she had ever been before. The Maud of old days would have viewed -his suggestion with the shrinking horror of a spirit that had never -known temptation. The Maud of to-day was different, more human, more -truly woman. She had suffered, and her dainty pride had ceased to -uphold her. He had offered himself to her in the light of deliverer, and -as such he believed he would win her. The odds were at last in his -favour. - -As for Jake, he might be formidable, but Saltash was no coward. He -fancied that when the time came, Jake would accept the inevitable. In -any case he was far too keen upon the chase to be deterred by the -thought of an outsider like Jake. If any element of danger existed, he -welcomed it. If a thing were worth having, it was worth fighting for, -Saltash never had in any one of his rash intrigues paused to count the -cost, and certainly it was not often that the cost had been borne by -him. He snatched his pleasures, and he drank deep thereof; but the -dregs he was wont to throw away. Once only--or possibly twice--had he -ever been made to drink to the bottom of the cup. And he did not stop -now to consider that on each of those occasions the cup had been firmly -held in the hand of Jake Bolton. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI - - THE BOND - - -"I have called him The Hundredth Chance," said Jake. "But I guess he is -going to be a winner." - -He was stooping over a tiny black foal that stood with trembling legs -pressed against its mother's flank. She was looking round at the master -with questioning eyes. Even he was only allowed in the loose-box on -suffrance. - -"You're very hopeful," said Capper. - -He stood leaning on the half-door, looking in upon Jake's latest -treasure. - -Maud was standing with him, but slightly apart, fondling the red setter -Chops who fawned about her knees. Chops had been unfeignedly delighted -to see her again, and he could not desist from telling her so. She had -bid good-bye to Bunny till the morrow, but she had made no definite -arrangements for leaving the Castle, and even yet she was wondering if -she might not manage to return for that one last night of her brother's -sojourn there. - -Jake had received her without comment when she had arrived with Capper -half an hour before. She fancied his manner was somewhat guarded, but -he treated her as if he had expected her and her coming had caused him -no surprise. - -Upon an ordinary occasion she would have been charmed with the sight of -the week-old foal that Jake had brought them thither to see, but at the -moment she was too stiff with shy reserve to enjoy it. So she stood -apart instead while Jake talked in his soft voice to the doctor, -striving to hide her embarrassment in murmured endearments to Chops. - -"Oh yes, the dam's a blood mare," Jake was saying, "the most valuable -animal we have. She's a mass of nerves, unfortunately. We've had a lot -of trouble with her." - -He stretched a fondling hand to the creature's enquiring muzzle. She -laid her ears for a moment, but the next her tongue came out and softly -licked first his fingers and then the wistful black face of her -offspring. - -Jake smiled and stood up. "She's a good mother, Doctor. I like a good -mother," he said. - -His eyes fell on Maud, bending low with flushed face over the dog. A -momentary shadow crossed his face. He had counted upon a greater -enthusiasm on her part. Never before had she failed to take a keen -interest in the animals. "Reckon we'd better go in and get some supper," -he said. - -They went in. The spring twilight was falling and with it a brief -shower that pattered awhile and was stayed. Down in the orchard the -blackbirds were singing in a wonderful chorus that seemed to fill all -the world with music. The scents that rose from the rain-steeped earth -were of that wondrous fragrance that holds the senses spellbound in the -magic of Spring. - -From somewhere near the open French window there came the breath of -violets, and from a little further away, subtly mingling with it, the -incense of wallflowers, all wet and luscious from the damp, sweet earth. - -"A wonderful season," said Capper. - -Jake smiled somewhat grimly. "A stormy May," he said. - -The meal was of the simplest, served by Mrs. Lovelace in her best gown -of black sateen. Her plump face wore a pursed look of peculiar -severity. Maud, very pale and still, at the end of the table, gave her -a murmured greeting which called forth a very grim response. - -Jake was apparently at his ease, but he made no attempt to draw his wife -into the conversation. He talked to Capper or was silent. He was still -wearing the riding-costume with which she always associated him. She -heard the clink of his spurs whenever he moved. - -Capper was very gentle with her, full of kindly consideration. There -were no difficult pauses. To a casual observer there would have been no -evidence of strain. Only to the girl, sitting there at her husband's -table, a stranger, was it almost insupportable. She did not know how -she came through the meal, nor was she aware of eating anything. When it -was over at last, she was thankful to rise and go. - -She took refuge upstairs in the room that had been Bunny's, standing -there in darkness, striving with herself, fighting desperately for -composure. What was expected of her she did not know, whether to go or -to remain. The impulse to go strongly urged her, but she held it back. -There was the morrow to be thought of, the morrow to be faced, and she -had a feeling--a dreadful, growing suspicion--that Jake was drawing to -the end of his patience. Not that he had betrayed it by word or look; -only he seemed to be waiting, waiting with an iron determination that no -action of hers could baulk. She felt that if she fled from him -to-night, she would never dare to face him again. - -The thought of Charlie arose within her, Charlie, careless, debonair, -gay of soul. He had offered her his protection. Should she go to -him--even now? Could she? Dared she? - -The temptation drew her, drew her. She knew Charlie so well. She was -sure he would be chivalrous. She was sure she could count upon him. -But his protection--what was it worth? - -Now that she had seen Jake, had felt the primitive force of the man -anew, her heart misgave her. She was possessed by the appalling -conviction that in the matter of lawlessness Jake could outdo Charlie -many times over, if once roused. No trammels of civilization would hold -him. He would go straight for his prey, and no power on earth would -turn him aside, or make him relinquish his hold till he had wreaked his -vengeance. - -For the first time it occurred to her that it might not be upon herself -alone that that vengeance would fall. A great shudder went through her. -She quivered all over, and turning crept to the bed and crouched beside -it. She was terrified, unnerved, despairing. Her own wickedness -frightened her, so that she could not even pray for help. She knew not -which way to turn. - -A long time passed thus; then there came a step upon the stair, a -steady, quiet step. A hand pushed open the door. - -"Say, Maud, are you here?" Jake said. - -She tried to answer him, but could not. She knew that the moment she -spoke, she would betray herself. - -He came forward into the room. She saw his square figure against the -light outside the door. - -"Capper has gone back," he said. "He wouldn't stay any longer." - -That startled her to a tragic activity. She sprang up in wild dismay. -"Dr. Capper--gone! I--I thought he was spending the night!" - -"I wanted him to," said Jake. "He wouldn't. He said I was to wish you -good-night, and thank you for your hospitality." - -Maud stood still, her hands at her throat. For the moment she was too -electrified for speech. Then anger--bitter, furious resentment--came to -her aid. - -"So you brought me here by--a trick!" she said, her voice pitched very -low but full of a quivering abhorrence that must have reached him where -he stood. - -"I don't know what you mean," said Jake. His voice was curt and cool; -he spoke without the smallest evidence of indignation or constraint. "I -never asked you to come, nor did I ask Capper to bring you. I presume -you were a free agent so far as that goes. But since you are here there -is not much point in running away again. It's here that you belong." - -The finality of his speech came upon her with stunning force. It had -the dead level of absolute assurance. As he made it, he came forward -into the room, and she heard the rattle of his matchbox as he drew it -forth. - -She stood and waited tensely while he deliberately struck a match and -lighted one of the candles upon the mantel-piece. All the blood in her -body seemed to be throbbing at her throat. She had not been alone with -him for weeks. She had never been alone with him as she was to-night. - -The light from the candle showed her the room prepared as for a guest. -The chintz covers were all newly-starched, and from the bed there seemed -to come a subtle scent of lavender. The lattice-window was wide to the -night, and from far away there rose the long deep roar of the sea. - -Jake turned from the lighted candle, and pointed to a low chair by the -bed. "Sit down!" he said. "There's something I've got to say to you." - -She looked at him with hunted eyes. She thought his face was very grim, -but the dim flickering light threw strange shadows upon it, baffling -her. - -He came to her as she still remained upon her feet, took her between his -hands, and held her so, facing him. - -"Say, now," he said, and a hint of half-coaxing kindliness softened the -measured resolution of his speech, "where's the sense of fighting when -you know you can't win? You're not a very good loser, my girl. But I -reckon it's just a woman's way. I won't be hard on you on that -account." - -She drew back from him swiftly, with the old, instinctive shrinking from -the man's overwhelming force of personality. - -"Oh, need we talk about that now?" she said hurriedly. "I--there is -still Bunny to think of. It is his last night, and--and--and----" - -She broke off with a sound half-choked that was almost a cry. For -Jake's hands were holding her, drawing her, compelling her. She -realized that in another moment she would be in his arms. She set her -quivering hands against his shoulders, pushing him from her with all her -strength. - -He set her free then, with a gesture half-contemptuous. "So it's to be -the same old fool game to the bitter end, is it?" he asked, and she -caught in his voice a new note as of anger barely held in check. "Well, -I reckon it's up to you to make good sooner or later. It was not my -intention to hold you down to that bargain of ours; but if you must have -it, you shall. I want to know when you propose to make good." - -She shrank away from him in quivering disgust. "Oh, never, never!" she -said. - -The words rushed out almost against her will, and the moment they were -uttered she wished them back. For Jake's eyes leapt into sudden furious -flame, such flame as seemed to scorch her from head to foot. He did not -speak at once, but stood looking at her, looking at her, while the awful -seconds crept away. - -At last, "It's rather--rash of you to put it that way," he said, and -there was a faintly humorous sound in his voice as though he restrained -a laugh. "So you're not--a woman of your word after all? That's -queer--damn' queer. I could have sworn you were." - -She wrung her hands hard together in a desperate effort at self-control. -"Oh, Jake," she said piteously, "it isn't my fault that we're not made -of the same stuff, indeed--indeed! You--you wouldn't ask the impossible -of me!" - -"P'raps not," said Jake, and now he spoke in the old soft drawl that she -knew well as a cloak to unwavering determination. "But has it never -occurred to you that I might leave asking and just--take?" - -She recoiled further from him. The man's deadly assurance appalled her. -She had no weapon to oppose against it. And his eyes were as a red-hot -furnace into which she dared not look. - -"Now, listen to me!" he suddenly said. "There's been enough of this -fooling around--more than enough. I've put up with it so far, but -there's a limit to everything. The time has come for you to remember -that you are my wife, I am your husband. We may not be over well suited -to one another, as you have pointed out. But the bond exists and we -have got to make the best of it. And so you will not go back to the -Castle to-night. You will stay here under your husband's roof, and fill -your rightful place by my side. Is that understood?" - -He spoke with the utmost decision; and Maud, white to the lips, -attempted no reply. She had made her appeal, and he had not heard it. -She knew with sure intuition that further resistance would be useless. -She had staked all, and she had lost. In that moment she saw her life a -heap of ruins, blasted by a devastating tempest that had scattered to -the four winds all that she had ever held precious. And nothing was left -to her. Nothing of value could ever be hers again. Only out of the -smoking ruins there presently arose one thing--a poison plant--that was -to flourish in the midst of desolation. Out of the furnace of a man's -unshackled passion it sprang to full growth in a single night ready to -bear its evil fruit when time should have made it ripe. - -The seed of it had been sown by Saltash. The tropical raising of it was -the work of Jake Bolton. The nourishing of it was left to Maud. But -the final ingathering of that bitter harvest was to fall to the lot of -all three. - - - - - PART II - - THE RACE - - - CHAPTER I - - HUSKS - - -Chops the setter was puzzled. - -He had been following his mistress about in his faithful way throughout -the whole of that hot July afternoon, and he had fathomed the fact that -she was preparing for a visitor. He even half-suspected that he knew -who the visitor would prove to be. But none the less was he puzzled by -her attitude. For to Chops' plain and honest mind the coming of a guest -was a cause for undiluted joy. But it was evident that to Maud the -advent of this one was a matter of anxiety, even almost of dread. - -Jake's old bedroom facing the Stables had been assigned to the newcomer. -She had spent hours of loving care upon it, yet on this, the great day -of arrival, she did not seem happy or by any means content. - -A great restlessness possessed her, and Chops in consequence was uneasy -also. He had conceived a vast affection for his young mistress that was -in some fashion vaguely mingled with pitying concern. She had a -disconcerting way of weeping in private when only Chops might see, and -he had a feeling that such consolation as he was able to proffer, though -quite whole-hearted, was never altogether equal to the occasion. The -tears she shed were so piteously hopeless, and even her smiles were -hopeless too. Chops often mourned over the sadness of his idol. - -She had just come in from the garden with a great handful of sweet peas. -It was a glorious sunny morning, and she had put on an old blue -sunbonnet that had done duty down on the sea-shore in previous summers -to protect her from the glare. She was holding the flowers up to her -face as she mounted the steps to the parlour, and such was her -absorption that she did not notice what Chops, following close behind, -perceived on the instant,--the strong, square figure of her husband -waiting in the entrance of the glass door. - -She was actually within touch of him before she was aware of his -presence, and then with a great start she lowered her flowers, while -over her face there came a look that was like the sudden donning of a -mask. - -"I thought you had gone," she said. - -"Not quite," said Jake. - -He bent slightly as she entered, stretched out a hand, took her by the -chin, and kissed her mask-like face. - -She endured his action with the most complete show of indifference, -neither returning nor avoiding his caress. A faint, faint tinge of -colour showed in her cheeks as with scarcely a pause she passed on into -the room; that was all. - -"It is getting late," she observed. "I think you had better go." - -Jake's eyes, red-brown and shining, followed her with a masterful -expression as she moved to the table and laid down her flowers, marking -the queenly bend of her neck, the cold majesty of her pose. - -He said nothing for the moment, merely took his pipe out of his pocket -and began to fill it. - -Maud went to the sideboard for a vase. Her movements were very -measured, very stately. She did not so much as glance towards the man -who watched her. The old quick nervousness of manner had gone utterly -from her. She was like a marble statue endued with a certain icy -animation. - -"You don't look exactly--excited," remarked Jake, as he finally stuck -his pipe into his mouth. - -She smiled, a cold, aloof smile, saying nothing. - -He lighted his pipe, his eyes still upon her. "Say, Maud," he said, -between the puffs, "why don't you come too?" - -She raised her beautiful brows a little at the question and slightly -shrugged her shoulders. - -"You don't want to?" pursued Jake. - -Her blue eyes met his for a single instant. They were dark and remote -as a deep mountain tarn. "Not in the least," she said. - -He swung round with a jingle of spurs and came to the table by which she -stood. - -"What if I wish you to come?" he said. - -The faint, cold smile still drew her lips. She had begun already to -arrange her flowers. - -"Of course your wish is law," she said. - -He leaned towards her, laying an abrupt hand upon hers. "Maud!" he -said. - -She became still on the instant, but she did not look at him or attempt -to avoid the tobacco smoke that curled between them. - -"Maud," he said again, and there was a hint of pleading in his voice, -"why can't you be friends with me? Surely I'm not all that hard to get -on with!" - -She kept her eyes lowered. The pale composure of her face did not vary -as she made reply. "I am sorry if you are not satisfied. I thought you -had got--all you wanted." - -He pulled the pipe from his mouth and laid it on the table. "Do you -think any man is satisfied with husks?" he said. - -Her lip curled a little. She said nothing. - -He took her by the arms, not violently but with firmness. "Maud," he -said, and there was urgency in his voice, "where's the use of behaving -like this? Do you think it's going to make life easier, happier? Is it -doing God's work in the world to be always fighting the inevitable? I'm -rough, I know; but I'm white. Why can't you take me as I am, and make -the best of me?" - -He had never thus appealed to her before. She stood stiffly between his -hands. But still she did not look at him. Her eyes were upon the -flowers on the table that lay scorching and slowly shrivelling under his -pipe. - -"I really don't know what you want," she said, in a tone of cold -aloofness. - -"And don't care!" said Jake, with sudden vehemence. "On my soul, I -sometimes think to myself that if you treated Sheppard as you treat me, -he had some reason for giving you a hiding." - -Her eyelids quivered sharply at the rough allusion, but she did not -raise them. "You are rather--hard to please," she said, in a low voice. - -"Am I?" said Jake. "And do you ever try to please me by any chance?" - -A slight tremor went through her. "I give you submission--obedience," -she said. "You have--all that you married me for." - -"Have I?" said Jake. His voice was suddenly ironical. "Ah, my girl, you -know a mighty lot about that, don't you? And have I also your -confidence, your goodwill, your--friendship?" - -Her eyes flashed him a look of swift protest. "They were not a part of -the bargain," she said. - -"Damn the bargain!" said Jake, with force. "If I didn't want them, what -did I want?" - -Her eyes comprehended him and fell again. She said nothing. - -He held her by the shoulders and gave her a sharp shake as if to bring -her to her senses. - -"P'raps you think I'm brutal," he said. "But you treat me as I wouldn't -treat any brute in creation. Why do you never speak to me? Why do you -never kiss me? On my oath, you starve me of all that's good in life and -yet expect me to remain civilized." - -She made no attempt to free herself, nor did she utter remonstrance of -any kind. If the grip of his hands hurt her, she did not show it. She -stood in utter silence. - -Slowly Jake's hold relaxed. The fierceness went out of it. He stood -for a few seconds watching her, a deep frown between his brows. - -"I don't seem able to get hold of you somehow," he said at length. "And -yet it ain't for want of trying. Say, Maud, can't you be decent to me -for a bit now the little chap is coming? He'll notice, sure, if you're -not. Guess we don't either of us want him pestering around with -questions." - -There was a species of half-grudging persuasion in his voice. He held -her as though at the faintest sign of encouragement he would have drawn -her into his arms. - -But Maud made no such sign. She stood motionless. Without looking at -him she spoke. - -"I can't pretend to love you. You see,--I don't." - -He made a sharp gesture--such a gesture as a man might make if stabbed -in the back. A very bitter look came into his eyes. It was as if an -evil spirit looked gibing forth. They glittered like the red flare of a -torch. - -"All right, my girl," he said, and his voice was soft and slow and -wholly without emotion. "Then I continue my meal of husks." - -With the words he let her go, took up his pipe from the table, and left -her. Mutely she watched him go. Then, as the sound of his footsteps -died away, she sank on her knees by the table, burying her face upon the -scorched and ruined flowers; and so she remained for a long, long time. - -Even the sympathy of Chops was lacking. He had followed his master and -the dog-cart to the station to welcome the visitor for whom such loving -preparations had been made. And he was being compelled to fly like the -wild to keep pace with the flying wheels. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE POISON PLANT - - -The wheels of the dog-cart clattered back over the stone paving of the -yard, and a wild whoop of welcome echoed through the place. A small, -boyish figure leapt impetuously to the ground to be caught and fast held -in Maud's straining arms. - -"Hullo, Maud! Hullo, Maud!" cried Bunny. - -He hugged her none the less ardently, hugged and kissed her. They had -not seen each other for three months. - -Maud's greeting was quite inaudible; she could only hold him -passionately close, feeling the abounding activity of his light young -frame, and realizing with a great throb of rejoicing that the miracle -had been wrought indeed. Bunny had been made whole. - -"I say, isn't it fine?" the boy cried eagerly. "I've been doing -gymnastics and physical exercises to any amount. I can swim too, and Dr. -Capper says I may learn to ride. Jake's going to teach me, aren't you, -Jake? Oh, isn't it fine, Maud? Isn't it fine?" - -She held him a little from her, gazing at him fondly ere she gathered -him close again. He was very slight and thin but he was taller than she -had thought possible. The deep hollows about his eyes were far less -marked than before, though his whole face bore that indelible stamp of -suffering which had always made him older than his years. - -He gave her another hearty hug. "I'm as fit as a fiddler," he declared. -"But I still have to do four hours flat on the floor every day. I told -Jake I wasn't going to do it any more, but he swears he'll tie me down -to the table-legs if I don't. You're a sport, aren't you, Jake?" - -He left his sister abruptly to attach himself to Jake whose threats of -violence were plainly a huge attraction to his boyish mind. - -Jake thrust an arm about the narrow shoulders. "We've got to make a man -of you somehow, my son," he said. "And Capper is very emphatic about -keeping up the treatment for another six weeks." - -"Yes, and after that I'm going to school," said Bunny, with the -assurance of a man who holds the ruling of his own destiny. "There's -Fairhaven College up on the hill, Jake. That'll do for me. And I'll be -a weekly boarder, and you'll take me to races on Saturdays." - -But Jake shook his head. "Not at your time of life, young feller. No, -when you go to school you'll stay there. You've got to make up for lost -time. P'raps in the holidays we'll see. But I make no rash promises. -Now, Mrs. Bolton, what about tea?" - -They went within to the meal prepared in the sunny parlour with its door -thrown open to the garden. - -They sat at the table, Bunny alert, excited, radiant; Jake cheery and -indulgent, bestowing his exclusive attention upon him; Maud, very quiet -and reserved but watching the boy with eyes of shining affection that -scarcely left him for a moment. - -He had so much to tell them of this treatment and of that, how at the -beginning of things he had found it so hard to bear, and how the doctors -had helped him through. - -"They were so awfully decent," he said. "There was one of 'em--Dr. -Wyndham, who was no end of a swell. He used to come twice a week and put -me through the most ghastly drill that rolled me out quite flat. He -made me think of you, Jake. He was such a chap for getting his own way. -Somehow I never could get ratty with him, though I used to dread the -sight of him for ever so long. He soon got to know it, and he'd sit down -by my side, and talk in a reassuring sort of way till he'd worked me up -to it. He seemed to have no end of time to waste, and yet he was always -ready; used to come in with his hands in his pockets and a funny smile -on his face, and send the nurse packing because he knew I hated anyone -looking on. I got to like him no end. You'd have liked him too, Maud. -He was just our sort." And there he stopped suddenly, for the first -time gazing fully at her. "Great Scott!" he said. "How queer you -look!" - -"I?" said Maud, slightly startled. - -Bunny was looking at her hard. He turned abruptly to Jake. "Why does -she lock like that? She hasn't been ill, has she?" - -Jake's eyes went to his wife's face. He regarded her critically for a -moment. - -But before he could speak Maud hastily broke in. "Bunny! How absurd! -Of course not! I am never ill. Jake, pass up his cup!" - -He obeyed in silence, and she received it with a hand that trembled. -Her face was burning. - -"You look better now," said Bunny. "P'raps it's the heat. How do you -amuse yourself nowadays? Is Saltash at the Castle?" - -She shook her head. "No. He left on the same day that you did. I have -scarcely seen him since." - -"You have heard from him," said Jake, in the tone of one making a casual -statement. - -She was silent for a second or two while she poured out Bunny's tea; -then, without lifting her eyes, "Yes," she said. "I have heard from -him." - -"Where is he?" asked Bunny. "Does he write often?" - -"Not often," said Maud. She suddenly looked across at Jake with eyes -that seemed to fling a challenge. "I expect you know where he is," she -said. - -"He is in town," said Jake. - -He met her look with the utmost deliberation, and almost at once she -looked away. - -"I expect he'll be going to Scotland next month," said Bunny. "But I -hope he'll come here first. I'd like to see him. Aren't there some big -races at Graydown soon, Jake? Won't he come for them?" - -"I can't say what he'll do," said Jake, pulling out his pipe. "The -Burchester Cup will be run in a fortnight." - -"Oh, Jake, old chap, do--do let me see that!" urged Bunny, with shining -eyes. "Is the Mascot going to run again?" - -"No, not the Mascot this time,--the Albatross. You remember him? -Reckon he ought to carry it off if his jockey is good enough." Jake -spoke with something of a frown. - -Bunny was all eagerness. "The Albatross! Wasn't he the chap you were -forcing into the water that day you first spoke to us? Yes, I remember -him, of course--a beauty. Who's up, Jake? Isn't he any good?" - -"I wanted Vickers to ride him," Jake said. "He's been training. But he -has just broken his thumb, confound him. That leaves it to Dick -Stevens, and I don't feel just sure of him. He may pull it off; but -he's not like Sam Vickers. The animals haven't the same faith in -him,--any more than I have." - -He got up from the table as he spoke, and went to the mantelpiece for a -match. Bunny gulped down his tea and sprang up also. - -"Say, Jake, I'm coming round the Stables with you," he said. "I won't -be in the way." - -Jake, his clay pipe between his teeth, puffed forth a cloud of smoke, -and turned. "Not to-night, my son. You've got another two hours' -floor-drill before you. You go and do it!" - -Bunny's face fell. "Oh, damn it, Jake! Not to-night!" - -Jake's hand shot forth and grasped his shoulder. "Who taught you to say -that?" he demanded. - -Bunny stared. "I don't know. Lots of fellows say it. Charlie often -does." - -"I do myself," said Jake grimly. "But you're not to, savvy? I mean it. -It ain't a mite clever, my son. It's beastly ugly. And you--you've got -to be a gentleman if you do live under the roof of a bounder. Now you -go and do as you're told, quick march! I shall know if you don't, and I -shall know the reason why too. Take him upstairs, Maud; and if he don't -behave himself, undress him and put him to bed!" - -He would have gone with the words, but Bunny with a red face stayed him. -"I'll do as you tell me, Jake," he said, "but I won't be managed by -anyone else. And I'm not a bit afraid of you. See?" - -Jake stopped, and the old kind smile that once had been so much more -frequent lighted his face. "That's right, little pard; you've no call -to be," he said. "But I won't have it said that you were brought up in -a stable. And I won't have you hanging around with the boys in the yard -either. Our language is not your language, and you're not to learn it. -Now go and do your duty! I'll take you round the Stables to-morrow." - -He bestowed a kindly pat upon Bunny's shoulder, and departed. - -Bunny turned round to Maud. "What's the matter with him?" he said. - -She sat with her face to the window, her eyes fixed unseeingly upon the -sunlit garden. "Nothing that I know of," she said, without moving. - -Bunny came to her side. "But, Maud, he isn't always like that, at least -he used not to be." - -"Like what?" she said. - -Bunny was looking at her hard. "You used not to be like this either," -he said. "What's happened to you both?" - -She gave herself a sharp shake--it was almost like a shudder -suppressed--and came out of her reverie. She met Bunny's questioning -eyes with a smile. - -"My dear boy, nothing has happened. Don't look so suspicious! There! -Come and let me look at you! Do you know I hardly know you? You seem -so young." - -Bunny pushed an arm about her neck, and gave the kiss for which she -yearned. "You look years older than you did," he said, with brotherly -candour. "I thought you'd get on like a house on fire when you hadn't -me to worry you, but you look more down in the mouth than ever." - -"I shan't now I've got you," she whispered, clinging to him. "I've -missed you--horribly, dear." - -"I thought you would," said Bunny with complacence. "I missed you too at -first. When they gave me that beastly massage, I used to howl for you." - -"Was it so terribly bad?" she murmured, holding him faster. - -"It was--unspeakable," said Bunny. "I shouldn't have stuck to it if -you'd been there. As it was,--well, I couldn't help myself. But they -were awfully kind too. No one ever pitched into me for behaving badly. -They all seemed to take it for granted that I should. And when I began -to get better, they were so jolly encouraging. But I'd rather be -flogged every day for a year," ended Bunny, "than go through it all -again." - -"Dr. Capper didn't tell me it would be so bad," said Maud. - -"No. Capper's a deep one. He didn't tell me either. He laughs about it -now," said Bunny, "and says the end has fully justified the means. He's -rather a card, but he's a fine chap. He is coming to see us before he -leaves England. I made him promise. He'll be off before the end of -August." Bunny stretched himself luxuriously. "How's the mother -getting on?" he enquired. - -"I haven't seen her for quite a long time. I believe she is very busy," -Maud said. "They have discharged some of the servants at 'The Anchor.' -I don't believe it answers. She was looking rather worried the last time -we met. But she didn't tell me anything, except that times were bad." - -"They always are with some people," said Bunny. "I suppose Jake is -quite prosperous, is he?" - -"Oh, quite, I think," she said in surprise. "Of course he is Charlie's -paid man. Why do you ask?" - -"He looks a bit bothered," said Bunny. "P'raps it isn't that though. -Come along! Let's go upstairs!" - -He twined his arm in hers. They went up side by side. - -A little later they separated, and Maud went to her own room. Down in -the training-field below the orchard a solitary horseman was riding a -young, untamed animal that fought savagely against his mastery, striving -by every conceivable artifice to unseat him. She paused at the casement -window and watched the struggle, marked the man's calm assurance, his -inflexible strength of purpose, his ruthless self-assertion. And, as -she watched, that evil thing that she nourished in her heart opened its -first poisonous flowers and bloomed in rank profusion. She hoped with a -sickening intensity that the animal would win the day, and that Jake -Bolton would be killed. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - CONFIDENCES - - -Three days after Bunny's return, Maud drove him down in the dog-cart one -afternoon to see their mother. She herself would not go into the Anchor -Hotel. She had never entered it since that bitter day in the winter when -she had thrown herself upon Jake's protection, nor had she exchanged a -single word with her step-father since her wedding-day. - -Her mother seemed to have grown completely away from them, and would -seldom be persuaded to visit her daughter even though Jake himself -offered to fetch her. She had become fretful and irritable, and was in -a certain measure vexed with Maud who had not apparently made the most -of her opportunities. There was no denying the fact that they were -drifting further and further apart, and to neither of them did the -other's presence afford the smallest pleasure. Now that Lord Saltash had -quitted the scene, Mrs. Sheppard took no further interest in her -daughter's doings. She strongly suspected that it was in response to -Maud's insistence that he had gone, and she was inclined to regard his -absence as a personal grievance against her in consequence. -Emphatically, Mrs. Sheppard was not improved by adversity. Her looks -were fading, and her placid temperament had vanished. Giles was such a -trial, life was so difficult. She had always acted for the best, but -she never reaped any benefit therefrom. In fact, Fate had never been -kind to her, and she was beginning to cherish a grudge in consequence. - -Bunny was by no means anxious to pay her a visit; it was only by Jake's -commands that he went. Maud was a little surprised to find that he was -developing a scrupulous regard for Jake's wishes. She drove the -dog-cart into the stable-yard of "The Anchor" and left it there with a -promise to return for him in an hour. Then she herself wandered down to -the shore to pass the time. - -The day was sultry with a brooding heat. The sea lay wrapped in mist -like a steaming sheet of molten lead. There was no sound of waves; only -now and then the wailing cry of a sea-gull floated across the water, and -sometimes there throbbed upon the heavy air the paddle of an unseen -steamer beating through that silent waste of greyness. - -She had no sunshade, and the glare was intense, albeit the sun was -veiled. Half-mechanically she turned her steps towards the shelter in -which--how long ago!--Jake had made his astounding proposal of marriage. -She felt miserable, depressed, sick at heart. The close weather did not -agree with her. She was limp and listless, and she could neither eat -nor sleep. - -She dropped wearily down upon the seat and leaned back with her eyes -half-closed. Her head was aching dully, as if a heavy weight pressed -upon it. - -There was no one in sight. That end of the parade was little -frequented. The gay crowd preferred the vicinity of the -bathing-machines where a little troupe of Pierrots were making merry. -Now and then the raucous voice of the funny man of the party reached -her, but it was too far away to disturb her. She was thankful for the -attraction that kept the people away. - -Chops lay at her feet, snapping at the flies, grave, sympathetic, -watchful. He was feeling the heat too, but he took it philosophically, -with the wisdom of experience. He knew better than to chafe at the -inevitable. - -Half-an-hour crawled away thus in dumb oppression while the atmosphere -grew imperceptibly thicker, gradually extinguishing the sun-rays, -darkening the world. At length a long ridge rose with ghostly -suddenness on that flat desert of waters and swept shorewards, bursting -upon the beach with a startling roar. - -Maud started and opened her eyes. In a moment she was on her feet, -dismayed, irresolute. One glance at the ominous sky and sullen, glassy -water told her that a storm was imminent. She could not stay in that -exposed place. She would not contemplate taking refuge at "The Anchor." -Whither could she go? - -She began to walk swiftly along the parade, Chops pacing sedately -behind. The Pierrots were gone, the crowd scattered. She was sure that -in a few moments there would be a terrific downpour. - -Another long swell showed like the back of a swift-moving monster on the -face of the waters. It travelled landwards with incredible rapidity; it -burst in thunder just below her. A great swirl of surf rushed up to the -wall and receded to rejoin the inky water. And suddenly the blast of -the storm caught her. - -Almost before she realized it, she was fleeing before it down the -deserted road. Eddies of dust rose up under her feet, and sand whipped -up from the beach stung her face. She raced the tempest, making for the -nearest side-road to escape the unbroken fury with which it raged along -the shore. - -As she tore across to the sheltering houses there came a blinding flash -of lightning, and instantly overhead a splitting explosion that seemed -to shatter the whole world. For a second or two she was checked in her -wild career. She felt stunned. Then in a sweeping torrent the rain was -upon her, and she stumbled towards the nearest doorway. - -Before she reached it, however, a voice called to her, a stout figure -came running forth with amazing lightness, and two plump hands seized -one of hers. - -"Come in, my dear, come in!" panted a wheezy voice. "Why, whatever -brought you out in such a storm? You look scared to death. Come and -sit down in my back parlour behind the shop! It's all right, dearie, -all right. Don't be upset!" - -Gasping and unnerved, Maud tottered into the little shop, groping, -clinging to her guide. The gloom without made almost impenetrable -darkness within. She had not the faintest idea as to whither she was -being led. But there was no hesitation about her companion. She -pressed her forward till a glimmer of light revealed a window in a dingy -little room beyond the shop, and here she deposited her with friendly -firmness upon a horse-hair sofa, making her lean against a cushion sewn -with beads while she recovered her breath. - -"Don't you be frightened any more, my dear!" she admonished her. -"You're quite safe. Trust the dear Lord for that! The wind and storm -are only fulfilling His Will. Poor child, you're all of a tremble! -There, let's take your hat off! And I'll get you a cup of tea, dear. -You'll be better then." - -Tenderly she removed the hat while Maud, panting and spent, lay limply -against the cushion. Chops sat pressed against her, his silken head on -her knee. - -"Why, look at him! It's just as if he's trying to tell you not to take -on," said her rescuer. "There's a deal of soul in a dog, I always say. -Now you know who I am, Mrs. Bolton, my dear, don't you? You don't feel -as if you're taking shelter with a stranger?" - -"You are--Mrs. Wright," Maud said, speaking with an effort. - -"That's right, my dear. I felt sure you'd remember me. Now will you be -quite comfortable if I run into the kitchen and make the tea? Or will -you come along with me? I often think company is a good thing in a -storm." - -Maud was recovering herself. She sat up with something of her usual -quiet demeanour, though her heart was still beating unpleasantly fast. -"Please don't trouble to get any tea for me!" she said. "If I may stay -till the worst is over, I shall be very grateful. But I must go -directly it gets better. My brother is waiting for me at 'The Anchor.'" - -Another terrible flash pierced the gloom, and she shrank involuntarily, -one hand covering her face while the thunder crashed above them with a -force that shook the house. - -As the dreadful echoes died away, she awoke to the fact that Mrs. Wright -was kneeling stoutly beside her, one kindly arm pressing her close. - -"It's all right, darling. Don't shiver so!" she murmured maternally. -"We're quite safe in the Lord's good keeping. He won't let us be harmed -if we trust in Him." - -Maud made a slight gesture as though she would withdraw herself, and -then the comfort of that motherly arm overcame her shyness. Very -suddenly she let herself go into the old woman's embrace. She hid her -face on the ample shoulder. - -"I'm not really frightened," she whispered piteously. "But oh, I'm so -tired--I'm so tired!" - -"Poor lamb!" said Mrs. Wright compassionately.' - -She gathered her to her bosom rocking her softly in her arms as one who -soothes a hurt child, and whispering endearing words from time to time, -while Maud, spent and weary, wept silently there till with the shedding -of tears some measure of relief came to her aching soul. - -She forgot the storm that raged around them; she forgot that Mrs. Wright -was a comparative stranger to her; she forgot the passage of time and -all besides in the blessed consciousness of another woman's sympathy -compassing her round, sustaining, comprehending, lifting her up from the -depths of despair into which she had lately sunk so low. - -"There then! There! You're better now," murmured Mrs. Wright at last. -"Would you like to talk a bit, darling? Or shall we just pretend as -there's nothing to talk about?" - -h But Maud was clinging to her, as a drowning person clings to a spar. -"You're very good to me," she whispered tremulously. - -It was enough for Mrs. Wright. She proceeded with boldness. "It didn't -become me to take the first step, dearie, you being a lady like you are, -and me only a clumsy old woman. But I've had troubles myself, and I'm -not blind. You aren't well, dear; you aren't happy. I was afraid that -day in the winter, and I've been much more afraid since. I was wanting -to step up and see you again; but then I wasn't sure as you 'd want me. -But I've thought of you often and often, and poor Jake too." - -Maud shivered. "Life is horrible--horrible!" she said, and there was a -quiver of passion in the words. - -"Ah, dear!" Mrs. Wright held her closer. "Maybe that's because you're -not taking things just as you should. No, I don't suppose as it's your -fault. I wouldn't presume. But there's ways and ways of looking at -things. And sometimes, when a girl is hurried into marrying, like you -were, she's likely to be a bit taken aback when she comes to realize -what it means. And it is then maybe that she gets a wrong impression of -men and their ways which is like to interfere with all happiness. But, -you know, dearie, men are only a pack of children. Any woman can manage -a man if she puts her mind to it, and he'll like her the better for it -too. But if once a man gets the whip-hand, and knows it, that's fatal. -A spoilt child soon becomes a tyrant." - -"Jake is no child!" Low and bitter the words came; Maud's face was -buried deep in her new friend's shoulder. "He is nothing but--a brute!" - -"Lord love me!" ejaculated Mrs. Wright. And then very tenderly her hand -began to smooth the girl's tumbled hair. "Has he been--that--to you?" -she said. "Ah, dear, dear, dear! And what's going to happen, I wonder, -when he knows what you're going to give him? No, don't shrink, darling! -There's nothing to be ashamed of. Would you be ashamed if God sent an -angel to lay a baby in your arms? For it's just that, darling. It is -His gift. Aren't you going to thank Him for it? The first is so much -the most wonderful. Think, dear, think of the little wee thing that -will cling to you, cry to you, depend on only you!" - -Maud was shivering violently. She did not lift her head or speak. - -Mrs. Wright's hand did not cease to caress and soothe. "I am right, -dear, am I?" she asked softly. - -And Maud's silence answered her. - -Thereafter there came an interval during which the loud patter of the -rain was the only sound. Maud's tears had ceased. She sat bowed upon -the old woman's breast as though she lacked the strength to lift -herself. - -But presently, without moving, she spoke. "I suppose I am very wicked; -but I don't feel like--that about it. I can't. I don't want it. -You'll be dreadfully shocked, I'm afraid. I've never spoken my mind to -anyone before. But--the fact is--I've never felt really married to Jake. -I don't in my heart belong to him. And that makes everything wrong." - -"My dear! My dear!" said Mrs. Wright. "But he is your husband all the -same. And you--you are the one woman in the world to him. He loves you -as his own soul." - -Maud shook her head hopelessly. "Oh no, indeed he doesn't! He doesn't -know the meaning of the word. If he did--things would be very -different." - -"Dear heart, that's just where you go wrong--the beginning and end of -the whole trouble," declared Mrs. Wright. "I knew he loved you that -night last year at your mother's wedding-party. Why, it was shining in -his eyes for all to see. Was he such a dunderhead then that he never -told you so?" - -But at that Maud raised herself. She met the old woman's eyes in the -gloom, her own heavy with bitterness. - -"Mrs. Wright, that was not love," she said, "or anything approaching to -love." She paused a moment, as though the tragic words had cost her all -her strength; then piteously she ended, "He told me he had a fancy for -me; that was all. So for Bunny's sake--and partly for my own--I married -him. And now I am the slave of that fancy." - -"Oh dear, dear, dear!" Mrs. Wright said again. "And has he never made -love to you at all? What a silly fellow, to be sure! Men don't know -anything; upon my word, they don't!" - -"I didn't like his methods of making love." Maud spoke with growing -bitterness. "And I never suffered them. Oh yes, I have to endure them -now. He takes whatever he wants. But every spark of affection or -respect that I ever had for him went out one night in the winter when he -came home the worse for drink." - -"Sakes alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Wright. "Not Jake!" - -"Yes, Jake." Maud spoke with tragic vehemence. "I saw him, and so did -Charlie. We both knew it." - -"Who is Charlie?" questioned Mrs. Wright. - -A faint tinge of colour rose in the girl's pale face. "Lord Saltash. -He is an old family friend of ours. He was always Charlie Burchester to -us in the old days." - -"And he told you Jake was drunk?" demanded Mrs. Wright, with round, -indignant eyes. - -Maud made a gesture of weary indifference. "He didn't actually tell me -so. I think he didn't want me to know. But he couldn't deny it when I -put it to him." - -"Then, my dear, he was very grievously mistaken," declared Mrs. Wright, -with stout emphasis. "Jake was not drunk. He never drinks. Why, look -at the man! His eyes are as clear as the day. Oh, believe me, dear, -you've wronged him. You've wronged him cruelly. And that's maybe what's -brought about all your trouble. For men can't put up with injustice. -It's the one thing they can't abide, and I don't blame 'em." - -She paused. Maud was listening, but not as one convinced, or even -greatly interested. - -"It doesn't really alter anything, whether it's true or not," she said. -"I had begun even before that to know what sort of a man he was. I -heard him using the most appalling language one day. That opened my -eyes." - -"Not to you, dear, surely?" urged Mrs. Wright, looking momentarily -shocked. - -"Oh no, not to me. I overheard it accidentally. But," Maud shivered -again, "I've never forgotten it. Sometimes the memory of it turns me -nearly sick!" - -"Oh, dearie me! What a pity! What a pity! And he loving you so!" -Mrs. Wright put up a very tender hand, and stroked her cheek. "Poor -little hurt princess!" she said. "If I could but open your eyes and -show you how much true love there is behind his roughness! You'll see -it some day. I'm sure of that. Please God some day quite soon! You're -tired and heart-sick now, dear. But that'll get better as time goes on. -And if you'll take an old woman's advice, you'll tell him soon of the -little one that's coming. It'll maybe make all the difference to you -both." - -But Maud drew back sharply at the bare suggestion. "I couldn't possibly -tell him yet. I--I couldn't tell anyone." - -Mrs. Wright looked at her with eyes of motherly wisdom. "You'll feel -different--presently," she said. "I know, dear, I know." - -"You don't know! You can't know!" Maud's voice was strangled. She -seemed to be striving for self-control. - -"I do know." Very firmly Mrs. Wright made the assertion. "Just you -listen a minute, dearie, and I'll tell you something that I've never -told to mortal being before. I'm only just an ordinary old woman; but I -am a woman, and I know what it means to--love the wrong man." She spoke -impressively, but she did not seem to notice Maud's quick start. "When -I was a girl, I was something of a belle. It seems funny now, don't it? -But I attracted the attention of a good many young men, and I got a bit -uppish in consequence. My poor Tom was the best of the bunch, and I -always knew it, though I led him a fine dance before we came to walking -out together. And then a young doctor's assistant came to the place, -and--well, I'll not deny it now--we was both young and a bit flighty. We -got larking together on them roundabouts one night at a fair, and after -that we took to meeting one another on the sly, till, to cut it short, I -fell in love with him--very badly in love. I ought to have known -better, of course, for gentlemen like him don't marry little farmers' -daughters like me. But I was young and inexperienced, and I thought his -intentions were honest, till one night I found as they weren't. I've -never ceased to thank the Almighty that I had the strength to send him -about his business then and there. And I got engaged to Tom the -following Sunday, and tried to forget it all. I wasn't in love with -him, but I knew he was a good sort; and the match pleased my people who -weren't too well-to-do. Well, I thought I was going to be happy in a -home of my own, and I let everything be arranged, and I deceived myself -into thinking that it was going to be all right. And then--when the -wedding was over--I felt, quite sudden-like, sick, just sick, to think -what I'd done. I didn't let on to Tom. He was such a good, solid man. -I'd have died of shame if I had. I didn't let on to anybody. But I was -that miserable. There were times, on and off, when I almost hated him. -And then--well, then--I began to have hopes. It didn't help me a bit at -first, but gradually, very gradually, the thought of poor Tom's baby -purified me. And when I'd come through my trouble and little Tom was -born, I felt as if I had been born again too, and all my regrets were -gone. I never had 'em any more, dear, after that. And I got that fond -of poor Tom, he never guessed. I thank the Almighty he didn't, for the -morning as he died he told me so simple-like that I'd been the sunshine -of his life from the very first day he ever met me." Mrs. Wright paused -to wipe her eyes. "Poor Tom! I was never good enough for him," she -said. "He was such a good, kind soul, and--luckily for me--he never saw -an inch beyond his nose." - -She got up with the words, dismissing the subject with practical common -sense. - -"Now I'm going to get you some tea, dear, and by that time it'll have -left off raining. See! It's getting lighter already. I'm so glad you -came this way. Maybe, you'll come again now, and if there's ever -anything I can do, why, you've only to let me know, and it's as good as -done." - -She bent, in response to Maud's silent gesture, and kissed her tenderly. -"Try not to fret any more, darling! Everything will come right. I'm -sure of it. I know Jake so well. You only know the rough side of him -at present. There's a whole lot of reserve in Jake. He won't show you -his heart so long as he thinks you've no use for it. Maybe, he's shy -too. I've sometimes thought so." - -Maud turned from the subject with a sigh. In some subtle fashion old -Mrs. Wright's confidences had helped her, but she felt as if the matter -would not bear further discussion. "I shall never forget your kindness," -she said rather wistfully. "I wish I had come to see you long ago. I -did mean to. And then there came Bunny's operation; and after -that--after that--I felt too miserable." - -Mrs. Wright shook her head in gentle chiding. "Don't ever again stay -away on that account, dear!" she said. "And do you know I've got a -feeling that maybe he is miserable too? Why don't you try a little -kindness, my dear? Do now! It's wonderful what a difference to sore -hearts a little kindness makes." - -She bustled away with the words. She also knew that for the moment -there was no more to be said. Yet there was a smile on her face as she -closed the door--a wise, mother-smile that turned its plainness into -beauty. - -"Poor children!" she murmured to herself. "They'll find each other some -day. And then--dear Lord--how happy they'll be!" - -She permitted herself a little chuckle as she set the kettle to boil. -Things always came right in the end. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE LETTER - - -Maud drove home with Bunny after the storm through an atmosphere washed -clean of cloud and golden with evening sunshine. She found him very -silent, and concluded that he had not greatly enjoyed himself. - -She asked few questions about his visit, and Bunny did not seem inclined -to volunteer anything, till as they reined in to a walk at the steep -hill by the church, he turned abruptly towards her and spoke. - -"I told the mother you were corresponding with Saltash." - -Maud started a little. "Really, Bunny!" she said, in a tone of protest. - -Bunny's face was red. He looked at her with a species of dogged -defiance. "I didn't mean to tell her. It just came out. I don't see -why she shouldn't know anyway. Jake knows." - -"There is not the faintest reason." Maud's tone was cold. She stared -straight between the horse's ears with eyes that were fixed and hard. -"I don't see why it should interest her, that's all. Charlie is such an -old friend that surely there is nothing very surprising about it." - -"Or anything to get ratty about," said Bunny, with a touch of warmth. -"That wasn't what I set out to tell you; but you do jump down a fellow's -throat so. Of course the mother didn't see anything in it. Why should -she?" - -"What were you going to tell me?" Maud's voice still sounded cold but -she forced herself to smile. She had no desire to give offence to Bunny -who was not always easy to conciliate. - -Bunny considered a moment. "Well, it has to do with Charlie. You know, -he owns 'The Anchor.'" - -Maud's attitude relaxed. She turned towards him. "Yes, I know he does. -He holds the mortgage, at least." - -"Yes, that's it; the mortgage." Bunny's face wore a troubled frown. -"Well, it seems that the place isn't answering and they can't go on -paying interest. In fact, they are badly in arrears already, and he--or -his agent--is tightening the reins and threatening to sell them up. The -mother is pretty desperate about it, but she was very particular that I -wasn't to tell anybody but you. She says it means ruin, and no one can -prevent it but Charlie--unless someone came along with a little money, -which is the last thing likely to happen. She wants you to get hold of -Charlie; says he will do anything for you, though I don't know how she -knows that. In fact, she went on as if it was a matter of life and -death. Say, Maud, do you really think they are going to be ruined? -What would happen if they were?" - -Bunny looked at her with worried eyes. Evidently Mrs. Sheppard had -succeeded in impressing him with the urgency of the situation. - -Maud shook her head. She had not the least idea. "How much money do -they want to tide them over?" she asked. - -"Rather a lot," said Bunny uneasily. "Four hundred pounds at least, she -said. I suppose it would be no good to write to Uncle Edward? He -wouldn't do it for the mother, I know, but he might for you." - -"I couldn't ask him," Maud said. "I might if it were for you or myself. -But not for Mother. I am sure he wouldn't do it." - -"It's a beastly mess," said Bunny gloomily. "You'll have to get round -Charlie, there's no other way." - -"I must think," Maud said. - -They reached the top of the hill, and she shook the reins. In sober -silence they trotted home. - -Jake was in the yard when they turned in. He came to meet them. - -"I've had a fine scare about you," he said, as he helped Bunny to -descend. "Were you caught in the storm?" - -Sam Vickers came to the horse's head, and Maud followed her brother -down. Jake did not offer to assist her. He was wearing neither coat -nor waistcoat, only a white canvas shirt with rolled up sleeves, -unbuttoned at the neck and displaying a good deal of brawny chest. His -clay pipe was between his teeth, and the pungent scent of his tobacco -seemed even more nauseating than usual. - -"No, we weren't caught," Bunny made answer. "I was at 'The Anchor,' and -Maud took refuge with that old Wright woman who came here in the -winter." - -"What? Old Mother Wright?" Jake turned to his wife with a smile of -approval. "Been having tea with her, have you? I'm real pleased to -hear it. You couldn't be in better company." - -Maud stiffened a little. Somehow his approval nettled her. "I took the -first shelter within reach," she said coldly. - -Bunny stared at her as though astonished at something in her tone. -Sharply Jake turned on him. - -"You trot in, my son, and do your floor-drill!" he said. "You've got -just two hours before supper." - -Bunny coloured and flung away. "Oh, damn!" he said. - -He was on the step with Maud immediately behind him when Jake's voice -arrested him. "Bunny!" - -It was a perfectly quiet voice, but it was the voice of authority. -Bunny stopped short. "Well?" - -"You will do an extra half-hour for that after supper," Jake said. - -Bunny faced round, his face crimson. "Oh, I say, Jake! That's too bad. -I didn't mean to say it, and anyway I can't do any extra time. It's -beastly enough as it is." - -"I have said it," remarked Jake. - -Bunny clenched his hands. "Dash it all, you can't make me!" he said, -his voice low and defiant. - -"No, no, you can't." Impulsively Maud broke in, her hand through -Bunny's arm. "It's ridiculous and tyrannical. I won't have him bullied, -Jake. You are to leave him alone." - -She spoke with vehemence, carried away by a gust of indignation. But -the moment she had spoken, she realized that she had made a mistake. - -Jake said nothing whatever. He did not so much as look at her. But he -did look at Bunny hard and straight, and in a moment the boy's attitude -changed. - -He unclenched his hands with a gesture half-shamed, half-deprecatory. -"All right, Jake," he said, in a tone of sullen submission; and to his -sister curtly, "Shut up, Maud! You always make a mess of things." - -With the words he pulled himself from her hold and went within. - -She turned to follow him upstairs, but was checked by the knowledge that -Jake was entering the house behind her. - -He did not speak, but it was certainly not of her own free will that she -passed on to the parlour instead. Angry as she was, she yet would have -avoided the encounter had it been possible. - -It was not possible. Jake followed her, grim as Fate, and in -desperation she turned and faced him the moment she was in the room. - -"Jake," she said, in a voice that quivered in spite of her, "I can't -have you interfering with Bunny--punishing him--like this. It's too -much." - -Jake closed the door and stood against it. The sheer brute strength of -the man had never been more forcibly apparent to her than at that -moment; the thick, powerful neck and broad chest, the red-brown, -lynx-like eyes, the merciless mouth, all seemed to mock her openly, -exulting over her, dominating her. - -Like Bunny she clenched her hands, meeting the straight gaze of those -glittering eyes with the defiance born of conscious impotence. "And -another thing!" she said. "I wish you wouldn't come into the house in -that horrible wild West attire. You look worse than any stable-hand. I -don't know how you can expect Bunny to be civilized with such an example -before him." - -She paused a moment, but, as he said nothing, rushed blindly on, finding -silence intolerable. - -"You come in at all hours in the day with your horrible clay pipe and -vile tobacco. You behave like a farm labourer; you use hateful language -to the men; and still you take it upon you to--to mete out punishment to -Bunny, because he has picked up, doubtless from you, an expression that -is a household word in your daily life!" - -She stopped, for Jake had made an abrupt movement as if her fierce words -had somehow pierced a joint in his armour. - -He came squarely forward, took his pipe from his mouth and knocked out -the half-burned contents into the grate. She turned to watch him, -feeling her heart racing like a runaway engine. And, so turning, her -eyes fell upon a letter that lay upon the table. She could not read the -address, but in a flash she recognized the handwriting, and suddenly the -mad racing of her heart died down, so that it did not seem to be beating -at all. - -Swiftly, while Jake was still intent upon his pipe, she reached across -the table and picked up the letter. Her fingers felt the crest on the -back of the envelope as she slipped it into her dress. She had fallen -into the habit of walking to meet the postman of late, but to-day the -storm had made her miss him. She hoped--earnestly she hoped--that Jake -had not chanced to see the letter. She was sure his eyes had not rested -upon the table. - -Her heart began to beat again with great leaps as Jake turned from the -fireplace. She felt as if she had over-taxed her strength in opposing -him, and yet now that she had begun she must go on,--she must! - -But still he did not speak, and, fascinated, she stood and watched him, -saw him thrust the offending pipe deep into his breeches pocket, unroll -the sleeves of his shirt, and button it at the neck. - -Then at last he came and stood before her and spoke. "I'm sorry I've -offended you," he said. - -The words were so utterly unexpected that Maud literally gasped. She -drew back before him as if he had threatened her. There was something -about him at that moment that made her feel infinitesimally small and -mean. She stood silent, dismayed, ashamed. - -Jake was looking straight at her with a steady intentness that seemed to -search and search her soul. There was no anger in his face. She almost -wished there had been. - -He waited for her to speak, but as she did not, broke the silence again -himself. "I know my ways are not exactly polished. I'll try and mend -'em. As for my language, I didn't know you had ever heard me in full -swing. You were never meant to, anyway. As for Bunny, I guess he's -your brother, and you've a right to stick up for him if you think he -needs it. But I give you my word of honour--my oath if you like--that -he'll never be one cent the worse for anything I may do to him. You can -tell him from me that if he don't do that extra half-hour, I shan't say -a word." - -Maud's lips quivered. She strove for dignity in the face of -overwhelming defeat. He had beaten her as it were with his hands behind -him. "He won't take it from me," she said. "You know that quite well." - -"That so?" said Jake. "Well, I reckon he'd better go through with it -then. It won't hurt him. It'll do him good." He paused a moment, -then, "Are you still feeling mad with me?" he asked. - -Her eyes fell before his. She did not understand his tone. It held a -note of gentleness which she had not heard since the day of Bunny's -operation. It was almost as if he were pleading with her, striving to -pierce through her resentment. She found it very difficult to reply. - -"I--don't want to quarrel with you, Jake," she said at last, with an -effort. - -Jake's intent look deepened, became for a moment almost intolerable. -Then it passed. He even faintly smiled, albeit his smile had a touch of -irony. "All right, my girl," he said. "Don't you worry any about that! -I like you for being open with me. It's an almighty mistake to keep -things back." - -He moved to the window with the words, stood a moment or two as if to -give her an opportunity to call him back, then, as she remained silent, -went down the steps into the garden and passed out of sight round the -house. - -Maud was left with a stinging sensation of discomfiture that was -compounded of doubt, indignation, and shame. - -She was relieved to think he had not seen the letter, but she hated the -impulse that had moved her to conceal it. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - REBELLION - - -That letter from Saltash, written in French, contained the announcement -of his approaching return. It was at her urgent written request that he -had gone three months before. Somehow the very thought of him at the -Castle had been intolerable after what had passed between them on the -day of her return to her husband. But they had corresponded ever since. -She could not refuse to receive and answer his letters. Her intimacy -with Charlie was like a gem with many facets. He had an adroit fashion -of flashing it before her hither and thither till, dazzled, she wondered -if she had ever truly grasped its full value. Sometimes it seemed to her -that it had been cut from the very bedrock of friendship, and at such -times the realization of the sympathy that ever pulsed between them was -a pure joy to her. At other times, remembering the strange impulses of -the man, his sudden gusts of passion, swift misgiving would assail her -and she would tell herself that she was making a terrible mistake. And -then again she would catch a glimpse of his careless, butterfly -temperament, and her doubts would vanish almost in spite of her. How -could she take him seriously? His gay inconsequence made the hare -notion seem ridiculous. They were pals, no more. True, he had offered -to help her; but, knowing him through and through as she did, he was the -last man in the world to whom she would really turn for help. And since -she was so sure of herself, what had she to fear? Charlie was before all -things a gentleman. There was nothing coarse or brutal about him. In -his own words, where women were concerned, he did not take; he offered. -For that very reason he was the harder to resist. - -But she knew him to be safe. That was the foundation of her confidence. -She had no fear of him; he had always set her at her ease. Without -virtue he might be, yet was he not without a certain code of honour. He -tempted; therein lay the subtle attraction of the man; but he never -compelled. He was selfish; oh yes, he was selfish, but he was also -strangely, whimsically kind at heart. In all her experience of him, she -had never found him merciless. - -And so she did not see why she should wholly deny herself the friendship -which seemed to her to be the only good thing left in her life now. She -had not wanted to see him, but now that he wrote to announce his return -she found that she was glad. The first meeting with him might be a -little difficult, but Charlie always knew how to deal with difficulties. -He understood her; it would not be really hard. They would be friends -again--just friends. - -She slipped the letter away with a smile. He always allowed himself a -little more latitude when he wrote in French. It was but natural. It -meant nothing, she knew. How could anyone take him really seriously? -His soul was as elusive as thistledown. It was only in the realms of -music that she ever really saw his soul. - -He did not say on what day he would return. She wondered if Jake knew, -wondered if she could induce Bunny to ask him without betraying any -interest in the subject herself. She was a little afraid of Bunny. His -shrewdness embarrassed her. It was like a microscope, discovering -things that otherwise would have escaped notice. She did not want to -come under that microscope very often. There were some parts of her -existence that would not bear it. She suspected that Bunny was already -beginning to find out. She was sure that he was aware of a lack of -sympathy between herself and Jake, and she wished she could have kept it -from him. - -With regard to her mother's affairs also, she would have been glad if -the boy had not been drawn into the discussion. It was characteristic of -Mrs. Sheppard to fling her burden upon the first shoulder that offered, -but Maud was fashioned otherwise, and she wanted Bunny to throw off his -precocities and become like other boys. The thought of his education -was beginning to weigh upon her. She wanted to talk about it to Jake, -but somehow she did not know how to broach the subject. She wondered if -she should write to Uncle Edward, but hesitated to do so. Letters were -never satisfactory. - -She was pondering this matter as she undressed that night when a sudden -thought struck her--a thought that darted through her like a flash, -leaving a shining trail of possibilities behind. Why should they not -accept the old man's invitation and go to him for a little while? He -would be glad to see them, she was sure; and she would be glad--oh, -unspeakably glad--to get away for a time. Face to face with him, she -might even plead for her mother. She would infinitely rather be under an -obligation to him than to Charlie. - -The idea drew her more and more. She wondered it had not occurred to -her before. In the end, finding it still early, she sat down at the -table and began to scribble a hasty note. She determined that she would -not tell Jake until Uncle Edward's reply reached her. She felt -convinced that it would contain the invitation she was soliciting. - -Feverishly she penned her appeal. Would he invite them to spend a few -days? Bunny was well, or nearly so; she herself was feeling the heat, -and would like a change. Jake--, no, she found she could not mention -Jake. With trembling fingers she brought the note to an end. - -She had scarcely finished addressing the envelope when she heard Jake's -step on the stairs. Startled, she caught up letter and writing-case, -and pushed them into a drawer. He seldom retired late, but she had not -expected him so early as this. Swiftly she turned, shut the door that -led into his room, blew out her lamp and slipped into bed. - -But he did not pass on to his own room. He stopped at the door of hers, -paused a second, then quietly opened it. She heard the creak of his -gaiters as he entered. He had a candle in one hand; he put up the other -to shield it from the draught, and the door blew gently to behind him. - -Maud leaned against her pillow and watched him. Her heart was beating -very fast. She wondered if he had heard her hasty movements of the past -few moments. - -He came to her side and set down his candle. "Say, Maud," he said, "I -saw your light go out, so I guessed you weren't asleep." - -Maud's eyes, blue-black and sombre, looked up to his. "What do you -want?" she asked him coldly. - -He stood squarely beside her. "I wanted just to speak to you," he said, -"and I thought if I waited to undress, maybe you'd be asleep." - -With the words he sat down rather heavily in the chair by her side, and -there fell a silence, a dragging, difficult silence. Maud's heart was -beating very fast. Had he come to talk about that letter from Saltash? -Was he about to make a scene? - -His stillness began to act upon her nerves. She turned towards him -restlessly. "Oh, what is it?" she said, veiling her doubt with a show -of impatience. - -He stretched out a strong hand and took one of hers. "It's you, my -girl," he said, and in his voice was a note of anxiety that partly -reassured her. "You've not been yourself lately. Guess there's -something the matter." - -"There is nothing the matter," she said hastily. - -He held her hand closely. "You've no call to be afraid of me," he said -gently. "Maybe, I've been rough and rude at times. I've never meant -it, my princess. I can't live up to you always; but I try,--God knows I -try!" - -A sudden tremor sounded in his voice; he became abruptly silent. - -Maud's hand was hard clenched in his. She did not look at him; but the -beating of her heart rose up between them--a hard, insistent drumming -that she was powerless to control. - -After a brief space he spoke again, his voice quite steady and -controlled. "Reckon you're not happy. Reckon you're not well either. -I've been thinking maybe you'd like to go away for a spell--you and the -boy. If so, I'm willing to manage it. It'll be a bit of a rest for -you." - -He paused. The clenched hand he held had made a sharp, convulsive -movement as if at a sudden twinge of pain. Maud lay breathing rapidly, -her eyes fixed upon the flame of the candle. - -He waited a few moments; then, "What do you think of the proposition, my -girl?" he asked. - -She turned her head slowly towards him. "Bunny and I alone?" she said. - -"That's the idea," said Jake. - -Her eyes met his resolutely, with a certain challenging directness. "As -a matter of fact, I had thought myself that we might go to Uncle Edward -for a little," she said. - -He showed no surprise. "You would like that?" he asked. - -"Yes." She spoke with instant decision. - -"Then go!" said Jake. He set her hand free with the words, but he -remained seated as if he had something further on his mind. "By the -way," he said, after a moment, "I had a letter this evening." - -She started. "A letter?" - -"Yes." Very deliberately he answered her. "I met the postman and took -it from him at the door." - -"Ah!" It was scarcely more than a whisper. She shrank against her -pillow with a gesture wholly involuntary. - -Jake's eyes were upon her, alert, unswerving, dominating. "My letter -came from Capper," he said quietly. "He is coming to us in a few days; -he wants to see Bunny again before he leaves England." - -"Oh, surely we needn't wait for him!" With a sudden rush the words -came; she spoke with feverish vehemence. "If we really are going away, -let us go soon!" she urged. "Why should we wait?" - -"I thought maybe you'd like to say 'Thank you' to Capper before he -goes," said Jake. - -"But I needn't see him for that," she said, in growing agitation. "I'll -write." - -Jake was silent. - -"He will very likely sail from Liverpool," she went on. "Be could come -and see Bunny there." - -Jake bent towards her. "Say, Maud," he said in his soft slow way, -"don't be upset any. If you're not wanting to meet Capper, it's all one -to me. But, my girl, there ain't anything he could tell me about you -that I don't know already." - -Her face flamed scarlet. For the moment she was furious with an -indignation that burned intolerably. Her very soul felt on fire. It -was more than she could bear. - -"Oh, go away!" she cried out fiercely. "Go, I say! Go! You make me -hate you more and more every day--every night!" He rose on the instant. -For a few quivering moments she thought she had roused him to anger, for -his eyes glowed in the dimness like a slow-burning fire. And then in -utter silence he turned away. He went into his own room, and softly -closed the door. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - THE PROBLEM - - -"He's going to be a winner, is he?" asked Saltash, flicking the ash from -his cigarette as he stood in the training-field with Jake. - -"That depends how he's ridden, my lord," said Jake dryly. "He is a hot -favourite." - -"Pity you can't ride him yourself," observed Saltash, watching the -Albatross with a critical eye as he cantered down the field. "Who is in -the saddle? Not Vickers?" - -"No. Vickers is incapacitated. I have put Stevens up. He seems keen -for the chance, though I'm not so keen to give it him," Jake spoke with -grimness. - -"He ought to pull it off," said Saltash. - -"He ought, my lord." Jake's tone lacked conviction notwithstanding. - -Saltash turned. "What's the matter with the lad? You don't seem over -enthusiastic about him." - -Jake flicked at a clump of nettles with his riding-whip. "I've done my -best to shape him, but he's a bit of a cur. The animals don't trust -him." - -Saltash uttered a careless laugh. "Oh, you always were an adept at -reading the equine mind. Come along and show me the latest offspring! -What was it you called him? The Hundredth Chance? A curious name to -choose!" - -Jake's grim face relaxed to a smile. "Oh, he's in the paddock along -with his mother. He promises to be the most valuable animal in the -Stables. He'll carry everything before him when the time comes." - -"Is that why you've given him such a hopeful name?" asked Saltash. - -Jake uttered a brief laugh. "Even so, my lord. He carries my luck with -him wherever he goes." - -"You're a queer fish, Bolton," observed Saltash, turning to leave the -field. - -The paddock lay on the further side of the orchard, and here they found -the pride of Jake's heart, a frisky black foal who kicked up his heels -and scampered at the sight of him. - -"He'll take some taming presently," commented Saltash. - -"And he'll knock spots off any animal I have ever had to tame," said -Jake. - -Saltash laughed again with nonchalant interest. "If ever there were the -right man in the right place, it is you," he said. "Can we go back -through the garden? I believe that's the shortest way." He spoke with -a wary glance in the direction whither he wished to go. A white figure -was visible on the steps that led into the parlour. "I hear Mrs. Bolton -is away," he added, immediately averting his eyes. - -Jake turned in his sturdy fashion, and began to walk towards the house. -"No, she is at home for the present," he said. "We are expecting -Capper. In fact the lad has gone to the station to meet him." - -"What! Bunny? Is he really all right? Capper must be a magician!" -ejaculated Saltash. - -"He is the biggest man I know," said Jake simply. - -They approached the house. The white figure had disappeared. - -Saltash chatted inconsequently, strolling along with a cigarette between -his lips, and a confident smile on his dark face. He had come down as -usual unexpectedly, but she was probably aware of his advent. His car -was awaiting him in the stable-yard. He did not think she would suffer -him to pass the window unnoticed. - -Yet as he drew near she made no sign. Chops came smiling down the steps -to greet him, and he paused at once to fondle the dog. - -Jake paused also, but he did not invite him to enter. He stood pulling -at the lash of his riding-whip, stolidly patient, awaiting his patron's -pleasure. - -Suddenly Saltash looked up. "I believe your guest has arrived, Bolton. -You'd better go. Never mind me!" - -There came undoubtedly the sound of wheels from the other side of the -house. Jake glanced towards the gate that led thither. Saltash bent -again over the dog. - -"You'd better go," he reiterated. "I won't show. Don't let me keep -you!" - -Jake raised a hand to his cap and turned away. - -Instantly Saltash straightened himself. He uttered a low, clear -whistle, and almost immediately Maud, clad in white, came to the window. -He sprang up the steps in a single bound and caught her hands into his -own. - -"I had your letter," he said. "Quick! When can you meet me?" - -Maud was gasping a little. Her face was deeply flushed. "Charlie! You -are so sudden! I only want--a few minutes alone with you." - -He held her hands. "When?" he said. - -His eyes were gazing into hers freely, ardently; but he was laughing as -he always laughed, ready to turn his ardour into a joke at a moment's -notice. - -She hesitated. - -"Quick!" he said. "They are coming, and I must go. Come down to the -orchard-gate after dinner to-night! Jake and Capper will be smoking. No -one will know, Queen Rose. That is settled then. I shall be at the -gate alone." He laughed under his breath, lifted her hands to his lips, -made a wide gesture as if he would clasp her in his arms, laughed again -as she drew back, and wheeling, sprang down the steps and was gone in a -moment round the side of the house. - -Maud's cheeks were burning. She turned to meet the visitor with the -feeling of one who has had a sudden rapid fall through space. She was -not sure of the ground beneath her feet. - -She did not know how she greeted Capper, but somehow the difficult -moment passed. She was convinced afterwards that her manner had been -perfectly normal, for the atmosphere was quite natural and free from -strain. In a very few minutes they were all seated round the tea-table, -and to her relief Bunny, and not she, was the centre of observation and -general topic of their talk. - -She feared that when tea was over Capper would seek her out; but he did -not. He went round the Stables with Jake. - -She went to her own room to rest and recover her composure. It was true -that she had wanted to see Charlie alone; in fact it had become -essential to her mother's interests that she should do so. But she had -not altogether expected so prompt a reply to her request. She wished -she could have made some more ordinary arrangement. She wished with all -her heart that she had had the presence of mind to veto his suggestion. -It had never been her intention to meet him secretly and at night. Not -that she cared personally how or when she met him. Their friendship was -too old for that. But she did not like secrecy. Small as was the -confidence she extended to her husband, she yet had no desire to exclude -him deliberately from the knowledge of her doings. She did not wish to -commit any act, however innocent, which might appear suspicious in his -eyes. - -The thing was unavoidable, however, the appointment was made. She could -not leave Charlie to wait in vain. For this once she must run the risk -and trust to luck to bring her through. It would not be a long -interview; she was fully determined upon that point. And she would -never agree to another on the same clandestine lines. She must assert -her independence, and meet him openly. Jake must learn to trust her. -She must not suffer him to interfere with her liberty of action. If he -were ridiculous enough to be jealous, that was his affair. She would -not allow herself to be influenced by such an absurd attitude. She never -questioned his doings; she must not suffer him to question hers. So she -sought to reassure herself the while her uneasiness grew. - -She put on a dress of black lace when the supper-hour drew near. It -made her look even paler than her wont, but she gave scarcely a thought -to her appearance. Her mind was weighed down by far more serious -matters. - -Even the prospect of a _tete-a-tete_ with Dr. Capper hardly disquieted -her, and when she discovered him on the garden-steps of the parlour she -went forward to join him without hesitation. - -His greeting of her was full of kindness; there was nothing -disconcerting about his attitude. - -"I was just thinking about my friend Rafford," he said. "You remember -him? And how mad he went over that piece of statuary at Burchester -Castle? But, strange to say, it's not the anatomy that interests him -any longer. It's the face." - -She felt herself colour a little. "If it bears any resemblance to me, -it is purely accidental," she said. - -"Or rather, a coincidence," amended Capper. "It's a fine piece of work -anyway. But he is nothing of a judge. Guess it's just the humanity of -the thing that gets him." - -"It's rather a painful study," Maud said. - -"Ah, but it leaves endless possibilities. That is where the genius of -the sculptor displays itself. Rafford saw that. 'The hotter the -furnace, the purer the gold,' he said to me; 'if I had the naming of -that work I'd call it _The Crucible or Seven Times Purified_.'" - -"What a peculiar point of view!" Maud exclaimed, almost in spite of -herself. - -Capper assented. "Raff is highly imaginative. He has a very long -perspective. A bit of a dreamer too. If it weren't for that, I should -prophesy a great future for him. But there's no time for dreaming in -this world. You must either hustle through or be content to stand aside. -You can't do both." - -"I don't like hustling," Maud said, with a smile. - -He made her a bow. "No, you are English. But Raff has not that excuse. -That's why I doubt if he ever gets there. He needs to be up against a -thing before he considers it worth while. That's not the way to win out -handsomely. It's the way to get whipped off the field." - -"Always make for the crest of the wave!" said Jake's voice behind them. -"You may get there--some day--if you're lucky; though it's more likely -you'll be dragged under and swamped." - -Capper turned to him. "Not you, Jake!" he said. "You're a born winner. -I'm sure Mrs. Bolton will bear me out there." - -Jake's hand descended upon his wife's shoulder. "Mrs. Bolton doesn't -know my capabilities in that respect at present," he remarked dryly. -"She has only witnessed the start." - -Maud did not turn her head. "You are all invincible, of course," she -said. - -Bunny's advent diverted the conversation. He could think and talk of -nothing but the forthcoming races at Graydown which had been fixed for -the end of the week, and which he had prevailed upon Jake to allow him -to attend. - -Capper, though not particularly enthusiastic, was to remain for them, -"just to see Jake come out on top," as he expressed it. It was taken -for granted by all that Maud would go too, and she supposed she would do -so; but she took no part in the conversation which Bunny found so -all-absorbing. She was too occupied with the thought of Charlie. - -There was no need for her to talk. She sat silent and abstracted while -the protracted discussion went on around her. Bunny had learned more -about the animals in ten days than she had discovered in as many weeks, -and Capper listened with amused indulgence. It all went over her head, -and no one seemed to notice her aloofness. - -Bunny would gladly have sat up till late, but Jake would not permit -this. He ordered him off to bed on the stroke of nine, and Bunny went -without demur. He was learning to obey his brother-in-law without any -thought of rebellion. Maud noted the fact bitterly. It was another -proof to her of the despotic mastery of Jake's personality. He ruled -them all. - -She herself rose from the table upon Bunny's departure, and as she did -so she was for the first time conscious of Capper's critical scrutiny. -It passed almost immediately as he sprang to his feet to open the door. - -"I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again?" he asked. - -She bent her head. "I am only going to fetch a wrap for the garden." - -He smiled and bowed her out. - -Jake was in the act of lighting a cigarette when he returned to the -table. He proffered the end of it to Capper, and as the latter stooped -to kindle his own their eyes met. Capper's held a question that could -scarcely be ignored. - -Half-reluctantly Jake removed his cigarette and spoke. "It's the biggest -problem I've ever been up against." - -Capper puffed forth a cloud of smoke. "What's troubling you?" - -Jake sat down heavily. "She ain't pleased--not any. Life is damnably -difficult. I thought I was going to make her happy, but I've made an -almighty failure of it. She used to just tolerate me in the old days; -but now--she hates the very sight of me. The mere thought of bearing me -a child seems to drive her clean crazy." - -He ceased to speak and sat bowed in his chair, his chin on his breast, -his eyes gazing sombrely forth under bent brows. - -Capper was still on his feet. He stood cracking his fingers one after -the other with meditative regularity. His eyes, very green and shrewd, -rested upon Jake's head that shone like copper in the lamplight. - -There fell a silence of several seconds; then at length with another -great puff of smoke he spoke. "Guess it's just a case for patience, -Jake, my lad. These things right 'emselves, you know, when the time -comes. It's wonderful how childbearing softens a woman. And you love -her. That'll make a difference too--when the time comes." - -Jake did not look up. "God knows I do," he said slowly. "But you know, -Doc--" he seemed to be speaking with something of an effort--"I don't -fancy she knows it." - -"Oh, shucks!" Capper exclaimed. "She wouldn't be a woman if she -didn't." - -Jake shook his head despondently. "I suppose I'm just a brute beast. -She thinks so, and I can't show her anything different now. Maybe I am -more flesh than spirit; but for all that she is the one woman I want, -and none other could ever satisfy me now. But I haven't got her. Even -when I hold her in my arms, she ain't there. And she has never kissed -me, never once." - -Again he ceased to speak, and Capper pulled at his beard and said -nothing. - -There fell a long silence between them through which the grandfather -clock in the corner ticked with a melancholy beat. It was like the -heart of a tired man. - -Jake's cigarette hung neglected between his fingers which almost trailed -on the floor. His eyes still stared before him as though they saw one -thing, and only one. - -Capper smoked with scarcely a pause. His yellow face was very -thoughtful His cigarette came to an end, and he dropped it smouldering -on to a plate. Then he turned and laid a kindly hand upon Jake's -shoulder. - -"Keep a stiff upper lip, my son! I guess she's yours for the winning, -or she will be. It's no good trying to understand a woman's moods. You -never will do that as long as you live. But she'll come to you in the -end, sure. Give her all the rope you can! If she hasn't any use for you -at present, it'll come." - -"Will it?" said Jake rather bitterly. "I reckon I'm further away from -winning her now than I've ever been. Once--it's ages ago--she came to me -and cried out her troubles on my shoulder. She'd no more dream of doing -that now than she'd dream of flying. She'd be more likely to--" He -broke off short. - -"What?" said Capper. - -Jake sat slowly up. His eyes still seemed to be fixed upon some -definite object. "I was going to say," he said, in a voice that had -become peculiarly soft and deliberate, "that she'd be more likely to -carry her troubles to Saltash. But I don't think exactly that. He's too -crooked to hold a woman's confidence. No woman with any sense would -trust him." - -He grasped Capper's hand and looked up with a curious smile. - -"It would be a pity to have to shoot a freak like Saltash; wouldn't it?" -he said. "Reckon a good many women would miss him." - -His eyes shone red for a moment, then he uttered a laugh that seemed to -dismiss the subject. - -"Come into the garden and see the moon rise!" he said. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - THE LAND OF MOONSHINE - - -The dew was thick on the orchard grass as Maud ran down under the trees. -An orange moon was rising behind them and the shadows lay deep and -mysterious across her path. The wind blew fresh from the sea, sweeping -the wide down, bringing relief after the heat of the day. - -She was trembling as she went, yet as she neared the trysting-place she -checked herself and walked with some dignity. She did not want to -arrive in a state of agitation. She was sure he would be waiting for -her. She was sure, she was sure! - -Yes, he was there. They saw each other simultaneously, and in a moment -he had sprung to meet her with the ardour she knew so well. Her hands -were in his almost in the same instant. He held them closely, -lingeringly. - -"At last!" he said. - -Rather breathlessly she made response. "Yes, but I can't stay. I want -to speak to you--only to speak to you--about my mother." - -"Good heavens!" said Saltash. His hold relaxed for a second, then -tightened again. "My dear girl, how absurdly prosaic of you to come to -me on such a night as this and talk about anybody or anything on earth -besides ourselves! I won't allow it and that's a fact." - -She laughed a little unsteadily. "But it is just that I have come for, -Charlie; and nothing else. And I can't stay either. You must let me -say what I have to say quickly, and then go." - -He drew her gently through the gate and led her to the summer-house -close by that overlooked the down. The moonlight filtered in upon them -through a lattice-work of leaves. - -"Don't tremble, _ma belle reine_!" he said. "You shall go whenever you -will. But need we waste to-night? I will call upon you formally in the -morning if you desire it and talk about anything you wish." - -She sat down with the feeling of one who moves beneath a spell, and -after a moment he sat beside her, still lightly holding her hand. Yes, -she was at liberty to go whenever she would; and yet she could not, she -could not! - -The witchery of the hour was upon her. It was not the first time that -they had sat thus, he and she, hand in hand, wrapped in the mystery and -romance of a summer night. Her thoughts went back with a bitter pang to -the old dear dream. Ah, why had she sent him from her? She had obeyed -the instincts of her soul, perchance; but she had wrecked her life to do -it. Why? Why? - -He was speaking, leaning to her, his swarthy face against her shoulder. -"Maud, let us forget the world to-night! Never mind what brought you! -Just remember that you are here--in the land of moonshine--with me!" - -She turned at his voice; she yielded ever so slightly to the subtle -drawing of his hand. "But let me speak, Charlie!" she whispered. "I am -so troubled. I want your help." - -"It is yours for ever," he made answer. "You have but to command." - -"That is a promise?" she urged. - -"My solemn promise," said Saltash. "Now--shall we forget?" - -His voice was full of a tenderness that stirred her to the depths. A -piteous sob caught her throat; she put up a swift, silencing hand. "Oh, -if I only could!" she said. - -"You can," said Saltash. He moved also, slid a gentle arm about her. -"Close your eyes, dear heart, and forget all your troubles!" he -whispered. "I can charm them all away." - -She shook her head. Her eyes were full of tears. "I am caught in the -whirlpools, Charlie," she whispered back. "I shall never get away. All -the romance is gone out of my life--for ever." - -"I can bring it back," he said. - -Her tears overflowed. She could not hold them back. "I wish I were -dead!" she said. - -The arm that encircled her grew gradually tense like the tightening of a -coil. "Come to me!" he murmured. "Listen to your own heart and come! -What does it matter what lies behind? Put it all away from you--and -come!" - -She suffered his arm, but she yielded herself no further to it. "I -can't," she said hopelessly. "I--can't." - -"Why not?" he urged. "Haven't I waited long enough? Are you afraid?" - -She bent her head, covering her face. "Oh yes, I am afraid--afraid. -Life is so dreadful. It is full of--terrible consequences." - -It had come upon her so suddenly. She had as it were stepped out of -prison into a world of seething temptation with the passing of that -gate. Never before had she felt so lured and drawn by that which was -evil. The swift spell had caught her in a moment, and it held,--how it -held her! - -His arms were about her. He drew her to his breast. "What do I care for -consequences?" he whispered passionately. "Come to me, queen of my -heart! I have been cheated of my right long enough. Yes, my right--my -right! You have belonged to me always, and you know it. Oh, what are we -to fight against destiny? Do you think I don't know how you have -suffered? Do you think I haven't suffered too? All because you loved -me--and sent me away! You will never do that again, queen of the roses. -You have called me back to you. You are mine. Turn your face to me, -sweetheart! There is no love in all the world like ours. How can we -resist it? It is greater than we ourselves." - -But she kept her face covered, hidden low against the throbbing of his -heart. - -His words went into silence--a silence that was stark and cold--the very -shadow of Despair. It bound them both for a while; then shudderingly -she spoke. - -"It is no good, Charlie. I can't do it--now. If I had known--three -months ago--what was before me--I think I would have come. But the -whirlpools caught me--drew me down. I realized too late--too late. I -can't come now. I am bound--hand and foot--in outer darkness." - -"I can deliver you," he said. - -"No one can deliver me." The bitter conviction of her voice silenced -even him. "It is what you foretold. I am a slave, and I have got to -bear the yoke of my slavery. I shall never be free now, never as long -as I live. I am bound to the oar by chain that--even you--could never -break." - -She moved in his arms; she raised her head at last. - -"Say good-bye to me, Charlie!" she whispered, "and--go!" - -He caught her to him. He looked closely into her quivering face. "You -love me still?" he whispered, with passionate insistence. "Tell me you -love me still!" - -She seemed to hesitate as if reluctant or irresolute. She seemed about -to draw back. And then something magnetic in his face or his touch must -haw moved her; or was it the weird enchantment of the night? She gave -him her lips without a word, and so he had his answer.... - -There came the click of the orchard-gate, the sound of a quiet voice. - -"Come round to the summer-house, Doc! There's a fine view from there." - -Maud stiffened in Saltash's arms as if turned to stone. - -He set her free with the utmost coolness and rose. The next instant she -was sitting alone in the chequered moonlight. He had vanished without -sound round the side of the arbour furthest from the orchard-gate. - -She sat with a thumping heart, waiting. There had been something almost -eerie in his disappearance. She knew he must be standing pressed -against the wall by which she sat, but yet his going had been so silent -that--even though her lips still burned with the memory of his kiss--she -felt curiously as though the whole episode were as incredible as a -dream. - -She made no attempt to move. Her limbs felt like lead. Only her heart -raced so madly that she gasped for breath. - -She heard again the quiet, drawling voice. "The gate was open. Very -likely my wife is here." - -A great shiver went through her. She felt suddenly cold from head to -foot. She clasped her hands tightly together, striving with all her -strength for self-control. - -There fell the tread of feet upon the grass, and Capper's tall thin form -came round the side of the arbour. He saw her in a moment, for the -moonlight was on her face. She stared at him with hunted eyes. Where -was Jake? - -He accosted her at once. "Ah, Mrs. Bolton, so here you are! Say, do -you think you're wise to sit here with the frogs? It's cold, you know. -Where's that wrap you were going to fetch?" - -She stretched out a hand to him instinctively. "Yes, I am cold," she -said, and her teeth chattered upon the words. "Is--is--Jake there?" - -Capper glanced over his shoulder. "He was there. But--Columbus!--how -cold you are, child! You will be sick if you stay here. Come! Let me -take you in!" - -He drew her to her feet; then, as she tottered, leaning upon him, passed -a wiry arm about her. As he did so, she saw Jake come round the other -corner of the arbour and stop upon the threshold. - -She turned suddenly giddy and clung weakly to Capper. He had seen; he -must have seen! But why had there been no encounter--no challenge of -any sort? Where--where was Charlie? - -She went through an agony of apprehension during those few moments. She -thought the awful suspense would kill her. - -Then Jake's square figure advanced, blocking the opening. His voice -pierced through her agitation. - -"So you have found her, Doc. I thought she would be hereabouts. I see -there is a mist coming up. We had better go in." - -There was nothing in the words, but she shivered uncontrollably at the -sound of them. That slow soft speech was as a veil that hid unutterable -things. With a great effort she mastered her weakness and spoke. - -"Yes, it has turned quite cold. I think it is the dew. Did you come -here to admire the view, Dr. Capper? It is one of the best in the -neighbourhood. I often think I should like to come and camp out here on -these summer nights." - -"You would want plenty of blankets," said Capper. "There is a creepy -chill in the atmosphere that reminds one of the fall." He took his arm -from about her, and drew her hand through it. "Come, we must go. It -isn't right for you to take risks. A glass of wine before you turn in -is what I should recommend." - -She made an attempt to laugh, but she did not feel it to be a success. -"That is Jake's invariable remedy for all ills," she declared. "But I -thought it had ceased to be popular with your profession." - -She emerged from the summer-house, holding his arm, but a new strength -born of terrible expediency seemed to have entered into her. She moved -without effort, Jake stepping back to let her pass. - -"Do admire the beauties of it before we go!" she urged. "It is so -romantic by this light. The Brethaven lighthouse is over there. It has -a revolving light. Do you see it?" She turned and spoke over her -shoulder. "Jake, come and show Dr. Capper all the different points of -interest." - -But Capper would have none of it. "I shan't be satisfied till I've got -you indoors," he said. "What have you got on your feet? Nothing but -light slippers? Say, Mrs. Bolton, you ought to take more care of -yourself." - -"Oh, but I never have," she protested. "I am wonderfully strong. Jake -will tell you that." - -"I think as Dr. Capper thinks," Jake said. "You ought to be more -careful." - -She felt herself flush. Now that her agitation had subsided, she was -capable of feeling resentment once more, and there was that in the quiet -utterance that stung her. - -She made no rejoinder, but her face burned hotter and hotter as they -began to walk back. She was sure--quite sure--that she had been made a -subject of discussion between her husband and Dr. Capper. - -Jake walked on her other side. She had the feeling of being a prisoner -between two warders. And she wondered if Charlie were watching with -that mocking humour in his eyes. - -She set her teeth as the memory of his voice, his touch, went through -her. She wondered with a sinking heart what she would have to tell him -when they met again.... - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE WARNING - - -Half an hour later Maud stood in her bedroom, waiting. The window was -wide open, and the night-air blew in cold and pure, with a scent of -dew-drenched roses and the salt of the sea behind. There was a large -moth in the room. It had been attracted thither by the light of the -candles, but it seemed to be dashing to and fro now in a wild search for -freedom. She watched its futile efforts with a vague pity. But she was -powerless to help it. Every moment it was circling closer and closer to -the flame and would probably perish there in the end. She supposed it -didn't matter. It was born to die in any case, and surely death was -kinder than life. She had often thought so. - -If she could have chosen death in that moment instead of this numb -waiting for an ordeal which she felt would be beyond her strength, she -believed she would not have hesitated. This continual battling against -a will so immeasurably stronger than her own was wearing her down. The -bare thought of an open conflict made her sick. And that an open -conflict was before her she felt convinced. He had not chosen to -confound her in the presence of Capper, but she knew that the reckoning -was only deferred. She had come to know him as a man of unerring -justice, and she had long ceased to hope for mercy from him. - -Ah! She heard his step at last, and turned, bracing herself. The moth -was flitting dizzily round and round the candle. Her eyes followed it -fascinated. - -Suddenly it made a headlong dash for the flame, there came a sharp -crackle, and then the dull thud of its fall upon the floor. A great -shudder caught her, almost convulsed her. And in the same instant the -door that intervened between her room and Jake's opened; and he stood -before her. - -She faced him stiffly in utter silence. One glimpse she had of his -face, and only one; for she could not look again. The red-brown eyes -were alight with a fire that seemed to consume her even from afar. She -stood and numbly waited. - -He came straight to her. "So," he said, "you have decided to make a -fool of me, have you?" - -His voice was very low, but it had in it the sound as of an angry -animal. There was something of the animal in his pose also, something -from which her whole being shrank affrighted. - -Yet she was not without courage. She forced herself to a certain -calmness. "Will you tell me what you mean?" she said. - -He made a slight gesture that seemed to cry aloud of a savagery scarcely -restrained. "I guess you can do that," he said. "What do I mean? Tell -me!" - -She drew back from him with an instinctive movement of recoil, but on -the instant, as though she had stepped into a trap, his hands came out -and caught her by the wrists. He held her firmly before him. - -"Tell me!" he reiterated. - -But she took refuge in silence. She had no words. - -He held her so for many seconds, and she knew that during those seconds -his eyes remained immovably fixed upon her. She made no attempt to -resist him. She knew beyond all question that resistance would be worse -than useless. But she refused with mute determination to meet his eyes. -Crush her, conquer her, as he would, he should not force his way past -every barrier unopposed. Her submission was physical but not mental. -She had always held back from him her soul. - -He spoke at length, and still in his voice she heard that terrible, deep -menace as of a savage force that gathered and gathered under the -thinning surface of his civilization. "I reckon you think I'm easier to -fool than I am. Old friends must have their privileges. Ain't that so? -And if they include a little genteel love-making, where's the harm? Who -is to raise any objection? Not the husband who has been too big an oaf -ever to make love to you in his life! The husband who just takes what he -wants and leaves what's over for the lover! He should be the last -person to interfere, I reckon. Ain't that so?" - -She shivered in his hold, but she spoke no word. Had they not always -been utterly at variance with one another? How could she hope to make -him see anything but evil now that his brutal passions were aroused? -How could she ever attempt to convince him that he alone was responsible -for the fact that temptation had become even possible to her? - -And so she stood in silence while the dreadful force of the man mounted -and mounted, menacing her. - -He waited for several seconds for some response from her; then, at last, -as she made none, he moved, drew her locked wrists behind her, forcing -her slowly back till her face was turned up to his gaze. - -She felt the scorching fire of the eyes she would not meet, and in a -moment her whole body seemed to burn in a furnace of shame. The hot -blood stung her from head to foot, pricking every vein. Crimson and -quivering, she hung there in his hold, waiting. - -"So you won't speak to me?" he said. "Won't even try to defend -yourself? Well, maybe you're wise. Maybe explanations would do more -harm than good. I know well enough how it is with you. You've got to -the pitch of enduring me like a loathsome but incurable disease. You -never reflected, did you, that in so doing you were making your own -hell? You hate me, but you don't realize that the thing you hate is not -me at all but a brute of your own creation. And because of that--p'raps -it's a natural consequence--you've come to prefer another man's love to -mine." - -His hold was tightening upon her; she felt herself being drawn to him, -felt the warmth of his body like the glow of an open fire. And a sudden -wild wave of rebellion went through her, goading her into action at -last. She had never resisted him before; she resisted him now fiercely, -passionately, striving with all her strength to free herself from that -pitiless hold. - -"You never offered me love," she panted, straining back from him even -while he mastered her. "Love--love--is a very different thing!" - -Her voice went into a gasp that was almost a cry. He was holding her -crushed to him in a grip that nearly suffocated her. His eyes blazed -down into hers, terrible in their intensity, cruelly, appallingly -bright. The savage in him had leapt free of all shackles at last, and -had her utterly at his mercy. - -"Well?" he said, speaking with lips drawn back, showing his set teeth. -"And what is love--as defined by you--and Saltash? Something peculiarly -holy?" - -The taunt pierced her like a knife, with a pain so unbearable that for -the moment she was almost beside herself. For an instant she winced from -that intolerable thrust; but only for an instant. The next with a -furious wrench she freed one hand and struck him--struck him across his -grim, menacing mouth. - -"How dare you say that?" she cried. "How dare you? How dare you?" - -She struck him afresh with each repetition, so stung to frenzy was she -by that sneer. But when the sudden realization that he stood to endure -her blows without the smallest attempt to check or avoid them came upon -her, the spirit went out of her. She became passive again, trembling -from head to foot, so that but for his upholding arms she must have -fallen. - -"Let me go!" she whispered voicelessly. "Let me go!" - -He was still gazing at her, but his look had changed. His eyes still -burned, but they no longer threatened. Rather she read in them a -slow-gathering wonder, as of a man who has picked up some strange -substance of which he does not know the value or properties. - -He held her awhile longer, and then very gradually he let her go. - -She drew away from him, her bosom heaving, her lips panting, and leaned -upon the dressing-table for support. She had withstood him indeed, but -it had cost her every inch of her strength. - -She did not know how she endured his silence. It seemed to pierce every -nerve, while he still stood observing her, as it were appraising her. - -Then at length very slowly he spoke. "I take back what I said about -Saltash. I see I was wrong." - -He paused a moment. She had made a sharp gesture of surprise, but she -spoke no word. He went on. - -"I realize--now--that you do not know what love is. If you did, you -wouldn't be so--ashamed. Maybe you never will know. It isn't given to -all of us--not that sort. But let me tell you this! Your friendship--or -whatever you call it--with Saltash must end. There must be no more -letters--no more secret meetings. Saltash is not a white man. I -believe in your own heart you know it. Trust him, and he will let you -down,--sure." - -He spoke with sombre force. She heard him in utter silence, her head -bent, still striving to call back her vanished strength. - -He came a step nearer to her. "Maybe you think you can hoodwink -me--disobey me, and I shan't know. You haven't a very great opinion of -my intellect, I guess. But--you may take it from me--I shall know. And -if you try to deceive me, you will repent it. You wouldn't fancy life -on a lone ranch with not a soul but me to speak to--and all the dishes -to wash?" A grim note that was not without a hint of humour crept into -his voice. "That's what it will mean, my girl, if you don't obey your -husband now. I'm a man of my word, and I think you know it." - -He was standing close to her. She felt the vitality of the man, -encompassing her, enthralling her. Her brief resistance was over. The -very heart of her felt too tired to beat. He had not forcibly quelled -her rebellion, yet in some fashion he had taken from her the power to -rebel. - -He waited for her to speak, but still she could not. Only after a -moment or two she drew back from him again and sat down in a chair by -the table. He had delivered his ultimatum. There seemed nothing more -to be said. - -She wished dully that he would go. Surely he could see that the game -was his, that she had ceased to move or to attempt to counter that final -stroke! Yet he still stood motionless, almost as if he were waiting for -something. - -Suddenly he spoke again with an odd, restrained vehemence; she felt that -he spoke in spite of himself. "That's a prospect that doesn't attract -you, I reckon. You've no use for me, never have had--save once. My -love is just an insult to you. You even call it by another name. But I -tell you this," his voice deepened with a strong vibration that affected -her very strangely, gripping her close attention, "whatever it is, it's -a driving force that I can't restrain. It may be an obsession, it may -be a curse; but there is no getting away from it. It simply is and it -has got to be. And if any man ever dares to come between us--you had -better mark what I say--I'll shoot him!" - -He spoke with a fatalism that sank deep into her soul. It was no savage -threat, but the clear pronouncement of a man who knew exactly what he -would do under given circumstances. And she was sure in that moment, -absolutely sure, that no dread of consequences would deter him. - -She did not answer him; there was nothing to say. But there swept over -her another dreadful wave of apprehension such as had caught her in the -summer-house an hour before, turning her cold from head to foot. What -would he say if he knew what had passed between them--if he knew that -their lips had met? - -She pictured him selecting his weapon with the deadly determination that -had inspired his words, saw the cruel set of the mouth, the ruthless -glitter of the savage eyes; and she shivered, shivered uncontrollably, -convulsively, as one in the grip of an ague. - -He saw the shiver; he could not fail to see it, and his attitude changed -a little. A measure of softening came into it, even a tinge of -kindliness. - -"There, you're overwrought," he said. "It's time you got to bed. -Reckon you understand me, so we'll give the matter a rest." - -He turned with the words, turned in his sturdy, purposeful fashion and -went back to his room. - -She did not watch him go, but she listened with straining ears for the -closing of the door between them. It did not come to her. There was to -be no relief from his presence that night. The door remained half-open. - -She sat on motionless for a moment or two, listening in a numb, hopeless -fashion to his quiet, methodical movements. - -She got up sharply at length and began with quivering speed to undress, -not daring to linger lest she should have to meet again the straight, -unsparing scrutiny of those terribly bright eyes. - -Once only, and that just at the last, did she stay a moment and stoop -over a small dark object on the floor--something she fancied she had -dropped. But the next instant a wild fit of trembling seized her, she -stood up again, feeling giddy, physically sick. The thing on the floor -was the charred remnant of the moth that had fluttered impotent wings to -escape but so short a time before. It lay there shrivelled, lifeless, -the wings that had beaten so madly for freedom shattered and consumed in -the flame. - -She caught her hand to her throat. What evil Fate had decreed that such -things should be? Even the tiniest thread of life could not escape the -seething whirlpool of destruction. - -Sick at heart, she turned and extinguished the candle that had wrought -so cruel a doom. The moonlight shone whitely into the room. She went -to the window and pulled down the blind; then trembling, she crept to -bed. And the darkness covered her soul. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - THE INVITATION - - -Saltash did not come to her on the following day, and for her own sake -she was thankful that he did not. But the problem of her mother's -difficulties had begun to vex her sorely. Without communicating with -him, she knew that it could not be solved. He had given his promise to -help her, yet somehow she did not feel the task before her to be a very -easy one. Charlie was so curiously elusive in some respects. It was -not always a simple matter to detach him from the whim of the moment. -And she had many a time heard him declare that he was not a business -man. - -She watched the post with nervous anxiety, but nothing came for her. -She was relieved to have nothing to conceal, but her mother's anxieties -weighed upon her. She hesitated to write to Charlie, but told herself -she would have to do so if no word came from him. It was all highly -unsatisfactory, and behind her uneasiness there lurked a deep sense of -self-reproach, self-distrust. She had suffered him to go too far, too -far. It might be difficult to recover a normal footing. It might be he -was even now planning some deep game, some master-stroke to follow up -the advantage he had gained and win her for his own. - -He would not succeed. He could not succeed. She would not so much as -allow her thoughts to wander in that direction. She had been mad that -night. There had been witchery in the very air. But now she was awake -to the crude realities of life, awake and sane and bitterly ashamed of -her weakness. He might plot and intrigue, but he could not overthrow -her reason a second time. The madness had passed, and it would not -return. But the necessity for seeing him remained, and it was an urgent -one. She found it hard to wait in inactivity. - -The whole day passed without a sign from him, and her patience began to -wear thin. Surely, surely he could not fail to keep that solemn promise -of his! Surely he could not have forgotten--or be waiting for her to -make the first move! - -She went for a walk on the down with Capper in the evening. She did not -greatly want to go. She was a little afraid of his shrewd insight. But -she found that she had no cause for fear. He was full of kindly -commonplace topics, and he touched upon no intimate subject whatever. -She returned from the walk feeling soothed and refreshed. - -They went through the training-field on the way back, and here they came -upon Jake, giving Bunny his first riding-lesson. It was good to see the -boy's eagerness, his flushed face and shining eyes. He was utterly -fearless and even impatient of Jake's care. - -They stood awhile and watched, then turned and walked up through the -garden. - -"He is very happy," Maud said. - -Capper smiled. "Jake is an A1 companion for him, Mrs. Bolton. He is -thrice lucky to be in the care of a man like Jake." - -She agreed without enthusiasm. "Yes, Jake is very kind." - -"That's so. And he won't spoil him either. Also," Capper spoke with -emphasis, "he'll never learn anything that isn't clean and straight from -Jake. Guess he'll make a fine man some day." - -"Thanks to you, Doctor!" Maud said. - -"No, madam. Thanks to Jake! My part was a very small one. I am just a -mechanic; but Jake is a driver of engines--a maker of men." - -Maud said nothing, and he changed the subject. - -They lingered in the garden till Jake and Bunny joined them; then they -separated, Bunny, contrary to custom, attaching himself to Maud, and -Jake taking possession of Capper. - -Brother and sister ascended the steps into the house and entered the -parlour. Bunny was still flushed and excited. Life was full of -absorbing interest to him. He had actually been off the leading rein -most of the time,--yes, and he had cantered too. Jake said he was to go -and have a warm bath and then do his time on the floor. It was a great -bore, but he supposed he'd have to. What was Maud looking so sick -about? Wasn't she well? - -This amiable enquiry was made just as Maud's eyes had fallen upon a -letter lying on the table. She almost snatched it up, and then found -with a mingling of relief and disappointment that it was not from -Saltash. - -The crabbed writing was wholly unfamiliar to her. She stood gazing at it -while her sudden agitation subsided. - -"Who's it from?" said Bunny, coming to peer over her shoulder. -"Liverpool post-mark. Why, that's from that queer old codger who was -down here in the winter, I'll bet. What on earth does he want?" - -"To be sure--Uncle Edward," Maud said. - -She opened the letter with Bunny looking on. They read it together. - -"MY DEAR GRAND-NIECE, - -"I am pleased to acknowledge your letter of the 4th inst., and I write -to inform you that I shall be delighted to receive you and your brother -on whatever date it may suit you to come. I am glad to hear of the -latter's excellent progress. I presume you are capable of keeping him -in order. You will of course be prepared to find your own -entertainment. Should your worthy husband care to join the party by any -chance, I have room for all. - -"Your affectionate uncle, - "EDWARD WARREN." - -"Holy Christopher!" ejaculated Bunny. "What on earth did you want to -write to him for? I'm not going there,--jiggered if I am! And to be -tied to your apron-strings too,--not much!" - -Maud folded the letter. "I thought you might like to go away with me -for a little," she said. - -He stared at her. "What! Away from Jake? Not--much!" - -She tried to smile. "You're not very flattering, Bunny." - -Bunny was still staring. "I can't think what's come to you! Jake's the -best chap in the world, and yet you don't seem to get on with him. Say, -what the blazes is the matter with you anyway?" - -She bit her lip. "I wish you wouldn't be so horribly imitative, Bunny. -You never used to talk like that." - -Bunny flared up on the instant. "I'll talk as I damn' well please! -It's no affair of yours. As to leaving Jake, I'm hanged if I will! You -can jolly well go by yourself!" - -"And as to behaving like a beastly bounder, you'll apologize for it -before you leave this room," a soft voice said. - -Both started violently. Jake had come up the steps from the garden. He -walked over to the mantelpiece, searched for and found a box of matches; -then turned. - -"If we were alone, my son, I'd punch your head for you. Maud is quite -right. You've no call to talk like a cowboy. Now apologize--quick!" - -But Bunny stood sullenly silent. - -Maud turned to the door. "Pray don't trouble to make him do that!" she -said. "I am accustomed to cowboy manners." - -The door closed upon her, and in the same instant Jake's hand closed -upon Bunny's shoulder. - -"Go after her!" he commanded, "Catch her up, and say you're sorry!" - -But Bunny resisted him. "I won't, Jake. I'm not sorry. And I won't go -and stay with Uncle Edward. There! If you send me, I'll run away." - -Jake shook him. "I'll be mad with you in a minute, my son. Go after -her, do you hear? Go after her and make it up before she starts -crying!" - -"She won't cry!" said Bunny incredulously. "She never does." - -Jake swung him round to the door. "Bunny, don't you be a skunk! If you -don't go, there'll be trouble--bad trouble." - -"But it was her fault!" protested Bunny, stung to remonstrance. "She -set on to me first." - -"I don't care whose fault it was," said Jake. "You're to go." - -Bunny writhed in his hold. "You're beastly unfair, Jake. If I do go, I -shan't apologize." - -"You won't?" said Jake. - -"No, I won't!" There was a faint note of apprehension in Bunny's voice, -notwithstanding its defiance. He stood up to Jake, but his eyelids -quivered ever so slightly. His hands opened and shut in the old nervous -fashion. - -Jake was holding him fast. "Think it over!" he said. "Think it over!" - -His voice was steady, his grip inflexible. His eyes never left the -boy's hot face. They held a stern warning that could not be ignored. - -Bunny straightened himself to meet it. "I suppose you'll thrash me," he -said. "Well,--you must, that's all." - -A faint gleam crossed Jake's face. It was hardly a smile, and was gone -on the instant. "No, I shan't thrash you," he said. "Now, will you -go?" - -And Bunny capitulated, struck his colours unconditionally, flung his -arms round his brother-in-law's shoulders. "All right, Jake. I'll go, -old man. I'll go. Don't look so confoundedly grim!" - -Jake held him back with one hand on his rough dark head. "Be off with -you, boy! I'll see you later--maybe when you're in bed. Go now!" - -He smiled upon Bunny, for there were tears in the boy's eyes, patted him -on the back, and turned to go as he had entered. - -Ten seconds later Bunny was beating a rousing tattoo on his sister's -door. "Say, Maud, let me in--quick--quick!" - -He wriggled at the handle, for the door was locked, and, meeting with no -response, beat again. - -"Maud, I say, let me in! I've come to say I'm sorry. Don't be waxy, old -girl! Open the door!" - -There came a lagging footstep. The key turned, Bunny burst into the -room headlong. - -"You're not crying, are you? I knew you weren't. There! It's all -right, isn't it? What makes you so touchy, nowadays? You never used to -be." - -Her arms held him tightly in a mute embrace. She kissed him with a -yearning tenderness. - -Bunny drew back and looked at her with sudden, close attention. "Maud, -what's the matter? Tell me what's the matter!" - -She was smiling, a strangely drawn smile. Not for the first time he -became conscious of the veil of reserve that hung between them. He -strove with it indignantly, seeking to tear it aside. - -"Maud, tell me, I say! You would have told me in the old days." - -She caught back an involuntary sigh. "You were older then, Bunny." - -"I wasn't!" he declared. "What rot!" - -"Ah well," she said gently, "things were different in those days." - -And suddenly there came to Bunny--Bunny who had lain and watched life so -long that his eyes had grown tired with watching--one of the old shrewd -flashes of enlightenment, solving the mystery. - -He held her very tightly, his face burning red. "Say, Maud--old girl, -is it--is it--I know what it is!" - -"Don't, Bunny!" she whispered inarticulately. - -He kissed her with the warmth of renewed understanding. "That's why -Jake's so beastly worried about you. Poor old boy! He's getting as -lean as Chops. Have you noticed?" - -She had not. They sat down together on an ottoman near the window, -Bunny's arm protectingly around her. - -"He sent me up after you in such a hurry because he was afraid you were -going to cry," he went on. "He was furious with me for vexing you. -Poor old Jake!" - -A curious little pang of resentment went through her. "You seem to think -he is very much to be pitied," she said. - -"I do," said Bunny instantly. "He looks so down in the mouth nowadays. -I saw it directly I came home. He's got a sort of hurt look at the back -of his eyes, as if he wasn't getting on with himself. I sometimes wish -you'd be a bit kinder to him, Maud. I'm sure he mopes." - -This was a point of view so new to Maud that she hardly knew how to -regard it. Somehow it had never occurred to her that Jake could take -her attitude to heart, Jake who trampled down all rebellion with so -merciless a heel. She had always told herself that Jake had all he -really wanted. That he was aware of any need of the spirit she had never -seriously believed. Bunny's assertion brought to mind Mrs. Wright's -kindly assurance that there was a whole lot of reserve in Jake; and for -the first time the old woman's words recurred to her. "He won't show -you his heart so long as he thinks you've no use for it." Was there a -measure of truth in those words? She wondered. She wondered. - -"Guess I must be going," said Bunny. "I've got to have a bath. You -might turn on the water for me like a brick while I go and undress." - -There was subtle tact in the suggestion. Bunny knew--none better--that -to wait upon him was his sister's dearest privilege, and he judged by -her sad face that it was time to change her thoughts. - -When he arrived in the bath-room a few minutes later, he found -everything put ready for his comfort, and Maud waiting to turn off the -water at his command. He was attired in a large bath towel which he -held artistically draped about his person. He thrust a bare, warm arm -about her neck. - -"Thanks, old girl. You're jolly decent to me! I don't know how I -managed to be such a beast. Guess my temper must have got warped in its -youth. By the way, there's a letter for you from Charlie on my -dressing-table. He told me to give it to you when we were alone. I -suppose it's something to do with the mother's affairs." - -"Oh, perhaps," Maud said; and she hoped he did not note her sudden start -or the quick flushing of her face. "When did you see him?" - -"He came up the garden way this evening just before I went riding with -Jake. You were out with Dr. Capper. He was in rather a decent mood," -said Bunny. "He gave me half a sovereign. Not a bad sort--Charlie." - -He began to emerge from the enveloping towel, and Maud turned to go. - -"You can stay if you like," said Bunny graciously. "I've no wish to make -a stranger of you." - -But she smiled and declined the invitation. "You do better without me -now," she said. - -And as the boy's small thin figure slipped down into the bath, she went -out and crossed the passage swiftly to his room. - -The letter from Charlie was not on his table, but tossed carelessly on -the bed with his clothes. She shivered at the thought that Jake, and -not she, might have found it there. The purple crest stood out -conspicuous on the white envelope--a fox's head with the motto: Sans -vertu, underneath. She wondered what wild ancestor of his had designed -the cynical device. - -Her hands were trembling as she tore open the flap. She was impatient, -yet half-afraid. Her heart throbbed hard at sight of the dashing scrawl -once so familiar and so dear. - -"_Ma belle reine des roses;_"--her heart throbbed a little faster. The -old sweet name, how it brought back to her those free, happy days of her -youth! How she marvelled now at the high, girlish pride that had sent -him away. How cruel had been the cost of that same pride! - -She read on. It was a characteristic epistle, half-mocking, -half-tender, throughout. Would she meet him again? But of course she -would! Had she not said that he could serve her? But they would not -risk another interruption. Would she be going to the Graydown races? If -not, he would manage to return early and come to her by the garden way. -They would thus be sure of at least half an hour together before anyone -else got back. He seemed confident that she would not refuse, and she -knew, even as she read, that she could not. She must see him somehow. -She must somehow get back to normal relations with him. She could not -sacrifice his friendship to that one night's madness. Besides, there -was her mother. - -A trampling of hoofs in the yard below drew her to the window. She -looked forth. - -It was the Albatross being led out of his stable for the evening canter. - -Dick Stevens held the bridle. He wore a heavy, glowering look. She -remembered--and the memory seemed to scorch her--that morning after her -wedding-day when she had stood and listened in petrified horror to Jake -pouring forth terrible invective upon the lad's head. - -He was standing by now, watching with a frown, as though the boy's -movements displeased him; and even as she looked he went forward and -took the bridle into his own hand. - -Stevens stood aside sullenly, while he readjusted the bit with set lips. -The Albatross nozzled against him, and after a few moments Jake's hand -went to his pocket and brought forth a piece of sugar. - -Then, while the animal munched it, he turned round upon the sulky -stable-boy and spoke. - -"If any harm comes to him through any damn' carelessness of yours, I -warn you,--and I'm a man of my word--I'll leather you to a jelly, if it -costs me fifty pounds." - -His words were quiet, but absolutely distinct. His right hand was hard -gripped on his riding-whip. - -Stevens slunk back a step, not speaking, his face crimson and defiant. - -Maud at the upper window clasped her hands suddenly and very tightly -upon the letter they held. Yes, he was a man of his word. And what if -he kept that other promise he had made to her? Life alone on a ranch -with Jake! Her whole being rose in revolt at the thought. She turned -away with a shudder. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - THE MISTAKE - - -The day fixed for the race for the Burchester Cup was inclined to be -showery. Jake was up at an early hour, and when he was gone Maud rose -also. But she felt too languid to bestir herself very greatly. She sat -by the open window, breathing the pure morning air, and wondering, -wondering, what the day would bring forth. - -Since the receipt of Saltash's letter, she had been making up her mind. -That she must see him alone that day was inevitable, but she had formed -a strong determination that for the future she would put bounds to their -intercourse. It could but lead in the one hopeless direction. Moreover, -open friendship between them had become, owing to Jake's prohibition, -impossible. - -She did not blame Saltash for what had happened, but bitterly she blamed -herself. She had been carried away by the moment's madness. Her feet -had slipped. But the determination to retrace that false step was -strong within her. For Charlie's sake, as well as for her own, she knew -that they must not go on. With fatal clearness she realized that it was -the downward path leading to destruction. It had never attracted her -before her marriage, that downward path. The care of Bunny had absorbed -her life. But now that her life was empty of all but the bondage she -hated, she faced the fact that her resolution had begun to waver. She -could no longer trust herself to stand firm. - -Sitting there, drinking in the refreshing coolness of the rain-washed -air, feeling the sweet morning chill all about her, something of that -innate purity of hers seemed to revive. Some of the bitterness went -from her soul. She was very, very tired; but after long meditation she -had begun to see her way more clearly. Perhaps dimly the future had -begun to draw her. Yes, her life was empty now. But in a little -while--a little while-- A deep, deep breath escaped her. The memory of -Mrs. Wright and her confident words of wisdom came to her. Her life -would not be always a dreary wandering in a desert land. Prisoner she -might be, but even so, the flowers might bloom around her, within her -reach. - -A little tremor went through her. Ah yes, it might be there were -compensations in store, even for her. Her life would not be always -empty. - -A kind of waking dream came upon her. It was as though a soothing hand -had been laid upon her, stilling her wild rebellion, giving her hope. -The kaleidoscope of life was changing every day. Why should she -despair? - -When she descended to breakfast, she was calmer, more at peace with -herself, than she had been for long. - -She found Capper waiting alone. He gave her his quick, keen look, but -characteristically he made no comment upon what he saw. - -"I am wondering how I shall catch the boat-train to-night," he said. - -"Must you do so?" she asked. - -He nodded vigorously. "Indeed I must. I have trespassed upon your -hospitality quite long enough. And there is work waiting across the -Atlantic that only Maurice Capper can do." - -She smiled at him. "How indefatigable you are! Won't it wait a little -longer?" - -"Not a day!" declared Capper. - -And neither of them dreamed that that same work would have to wait many -days ere Maurice Capper was at liberty to handle it. - -They sat down alone to breakfast. Jake and Bunny had had their meal -long before. - -"There's no holding the boy this morning," Capper observed. "It will be -a good thing now when you can get him off to school, Mrs. Bolton. He'll -grow quicker there than anywhere." - -Maud looked up quickly. "You think so?" - -He smiled. "I have told Jake so. He, I believe, is waiting till these -all-absorbing races are over to consult you on the subject." - -Maud's eyes fell. "He won't do that," she said, in a low voice. "He -and Bunny will settle it between them, and I shall be told afterwards." - -"That so?" said Capper. "Then, if I may take the liberty to advise you, -madam, I should consult them first." - -She shook her head in silence. How could she even begin to tell Capper -of the utter lack of sympathy between herself and Jake? - -"And you really think he is fit to go to school, and fend for himself?" -she asked, after a moment. - -"Do him all the good in the world," said Capper. He added kindly: -"Guess you'll miss him some, my dear; but believe me you won't be sorry -when you see what it does for him." - -"Oh no, I shall never be sorry on his account," she said. - -And there the subject ended, but before she left the breakfast table she -found an opportunity to acquaint him with her decision to remain at home -that day. - -He expressed regret but not surprise. "You are wise not to overtire -yourself," he said. - -She became aware again of the green eyes surveying her for a moment, and -coloured. "I--am not sleeping very well," she said, with an effort. - -He nodded as one who fully understood. "Take things easily!" he said. -"Don't fret over 'em! Let the world go by!" - -She got up, moved by an impulse curiously insistent. "Dr. Capper," she -said, "it--it's rather a difficult world, isn't it?" - -Her voice had a quiver of wistfulness in it. He reached out a hand at -once that sought and held hers. "My dear Mrs. Bolton," he said, "we -live too hard--all of us. That's nine-tenths of the trouble. It's -because we won't trust the Hand on the helm. We're all so mighty -anxious to do our own steering, and we don't know a thing about it." - -The hold of the thin yellow fingers was full of kindly comfort. There -was nothing disconcerting in the shrewd green eyes that looked into -hers. - -"I think you'll be happier presently, you know," he said. "It seems to -me that two people I'm mighty fond of have got wandering off their -bearings in the wilderness. They'll find each other presently and then, -I guess, that same wilderness will blossom into a garden and they'll -settle down in comfort and enjoy themselves." - -He pressed her hand, and released it, making it evident that he had no -intention of pursuing the matter further without definite encouragement. -And Maud gave him none. Something in her shrank from doing so. He was -Jake's friend before he was hers. - -The day seemed very long. It was oppressive also, gleams of sunshine -alternating with occasional heavy thunder showers. - -She was lying in a hammock-chair under the trees in the orchard with -Chops at her feet when Jake came striding through at the last moment to -find her. - -"Capper tells me you don't feel up to coming," he said. - -She barely glanced up from the book in her lap, she did not want to meet -his eyes. "I didn't tell him so," she said. - -"But it is so?" insisted Jake. - -"I have decided not to come, certainly," she said, feeling her heart -jerk apprehensively as she made the statement. - -He stood a moment in silence, then bent unexpectedly, took her by the -chin, and turned her face up to his own. It was flooded with scarlet on -the instant; her eyes flinched away from his. - -He held her so for several seconds, looking at her, mercilessly watching -that agonizing blush, till it faded under his eyes, leaving her white to -the lips. Then, without another word, he let her go. - -She heard the jingle of his spurs as he went away, and for a long time -after she lay as he had left her, too unnerved to move. What could he -know? How much did he suspect? She felt cold to the very heart of her, -stricken and sick with fear. He had not so much as kissed her in his -brutal, domineering way, and that fact disquieted her more than any -other. Though she hated the touch of his lips she would have welcomed -it thankfully in that hour of sickening apprehension only to feel -reassured and safe. - -The patter of rain roused her to activity and drove her back to the -house, in time to meet Mrs. Lovelace hastening forth with an umbrella to -her rescue. - -"You shouldn't be sitting out there, ma'am, on a day like this," the old -woman said. "And, lawk-a-massy, you do look bad!" - -Maud tried to smile. "I am not bad, Mrs. Lovelace. It's only the heat." - -Mrs. Lovelace pursed her lips and looked severely incredulous. "You'd -best lie down, ma'am," she said. "I'll bring your lunch immediately." - -She bustled away, and Maud sank on the couch in the parlour and strove -to compose herself. But she could not with that awful fear coiled like -a snake about her heart. A terrible restlessness possessed her. It was -impossible to remain still. - -If she could only send a message to Charlie, warning him not to come! -But that was impossible. She knew that no message could reach him now. -He would have to come, and Jake would know of it. Manoeuvre as she -might, those lynx-eyes would wrest from her the secret. She knew -herself powerless to withstand them. - -She made scarcely any pretence to eat the luncheon that Mrs. Lovelace -brought her. She had never before been in such a ferment of -disquietude. Those few awful moments of Jake's silent scrutiny had -shaken her to the very foundations of her being. She felt that he had -ruthlessly forced his way past her defences and looked upon her naked -soul. And she realized that he had spoken the truth when he had said -that she could not deceive him. He could tear her reserve from her like -a garment and expose her most secret thoughts. - -She spent most of the afternoon in pacing to and fro, for she could not -rest. Her feet were soaked with the drenched orchard grass, but she did -not know it. Her limbs were strung to a feverish activity. There were -times when she thought she would go mad. - -The hours crawled by leaden-footed. She did not know in the least when -Charlie would come, but she began to expect him long before he could -possibly arrive, and the waiting became a torment that chafed her -intolerably. If he would only come soon--so that she might make her -petition and let him go! - -Back and forth, back and forth, she wandered, conscious sometimes of a -dreadful, physical sinking, but for the most part too torn with anxiety -to be aware of anything else. And Chops paced with her in mute sympathy -with her distress. - -The afternoon was beginning to wane towards evening when Mrs. Lovelace -came forth once more in search of her--Mrs. Lovelace with prim, set -lips, sternly disapproving. - -"You'll make yourself bad if you go on, ma'am," she said. "And if you -please, Mrs. Wright is here, and I'm laying the cloth for tea." - -"Mrs. Wright!" Maud looked at her with dazed eyes, bringing her -thoughts back as it were from afar. - -"There she is!" said Mrs. Lovelace. - -And even as she spoke Maud caught sight of the comfortable, portly -figure standing on the steps. - -She gave a gasp that was almost a cry, and began to hasten towards her. - -Mrs. Wright on her part bustled down to meet her. "Don't hurry, my dear, -don't! I've only just come. Why, how tired and white you look! There! -Run along, Sarah, and get the tea, like a good soul! I'll take care of -Mrs. Bolton." - -Her arm was already around Maud's waist; she looked up at her with round -eyes full of kindly concern. - -Maud bent to kiss her. "How--good of you to come!" she said. - -She herself was divided between relief and dismay; but the relief -predominated. It would not matter now if Charlie came. She would have -to write to him on her mother's behalf. It was the only way. She -believed she could evade Jake's vigilance with a letter--so long as -Charlie did not write to her. The anguish through which she had passed -had made her realize that she must not, could not, take such a risk -again. - -She clung to Mrs. Wright as to a deliverer. "Thank you for coming!" she -said. - -Mrs. Wright had begun to steer sturdily for the house. "Lor' bless you, -dear, I'm as pleased as anything to come," she said. "Jake dropped in -this morning casual-like, and happened to pass the remark as they was -all going to the races but you. So I sent down to Tom's young lady to -be so kind as to come and mind the shop for me this afternoon, and after -dinner I dressed myself and came along to keep you company. I could -have got here an hour ago, but I thought as you'd be resting, and I knew -as Sarah would be busy." - -So it was Jake's doing! He had taken this step to circumvent her. Maud -was conscious of a throb of anger against him, but her visitor's -guileless chatter made her stifle it. Mrs. Wright was so obviously -unsuspecting. - -They ascended the steps together, Mrs. Wright's arm stoutly assisting -her. Then in the parlour she turned and looked at Maud. - -"If I was you, my dearie, I should lie right down and have a rest. And -I'll give you a drop of brandy in your tea." - -She sank upon the sofa without protest. The reaction from those hours -of feverish suspense was upon her. She felt exhausted in mind and body. - -Mrs. Wright attended upon her with the utmost kindness. She did not talk -a great deal, for which forbearance Maud was mutely thankful. She was -so unutterably tired, too tired even to protest against that drop of -brandy in her tea upon which Mrs. Wright insisted. - -Another hour went by, but there was no sign of Saltash's coming. The -evening was turning dark and wet. Maud lay on her sofa, sometimes -dozing, sometimes talking abstractedly to her visitor. For Mrs. Wright -was determined to remain till Jake returned, and briskly said so. Maud -did not want to combat the decision. She was glad to have her there. -It seemed that Charlie was not coming after all. Something had detained -him. Her anxiety had spent itself, but she felt terribly weak. The -comfort of the old woman's tender care was too great to refuse. - -She scarcely knew how the time went, so overpowering was the languor -that possessed her. The rainy sky brought down an early dusk long -before the setting of the sun. A brooding stillness hung upon all -things through which the patter of the rain sounded with unvarying -monotony. - -"Deary me! They will get wet," sighed Mrs. Wright. - -Slowly the heavy clouds gathered and hung! Slowly the darkness -deepened. - -Suddenly Maud raised herself, sat up, tensely listened. "What is that?" -she said. - -Mrs. Wright looked at her. "I hear nothing but the rain, dear." - -Maud broke in upon her impatiently. "Yes, that--that--that! Don't you -hear? What is it? O God, what is it?" - -Her voice rose wildly. In a moment she had sprung from her couch and -was standing with caught breath, listening. - -"My dearie, it's only the rain," said Mrs. Wright soothingly. "Don't -let yourself get jumpy! There's nothing there." - -But Maud paid no attention to her. With a movement incredibly swift she -reached the door and threw it open. - -Then indeed Mrs. Wright heard sounds, muffled but undeniable, of some -commotion in the stable-yard. "I expect they've just got home, dear," -she said. "And very wet they'll be. Hadn't you better tell Sarah to -get a nice hot brew of tea ready for 'em? Little Sir Brian will be sure -to want his tea." - -But the rush of Maud's feet along the oaken passage was her only answer. -The girl went like the wind, urged by the most awful fear she had ever -known. - -The front door was open. Bunny was on the step. But she brushed past -him without so much as seeing him, tearing forth bare-headed, -ashen-faced, into the rain. - -For there in the murky twilight, terrible as a lion newly roused, stood -Jake, gripping by the collar a struggling, writhing figure, the while he -administered to it as sound a horse-whipping as his great strength could -accomplish. His right arm moved slowly, with a deliberate regularity -unspeakably horrible to behold. She had a glimpse--only a glimpse--of -his face, and the savage cruelty of it was such that it seemed no longer -human. Of his victim she saw very little, but of his identity not the -smallest doubt existed in her mind; and as the sound of those awful -blows reached her, the last shred of her endurance was torn away. She -shrieked and shrieked again as she ran. - -Those shrieks reached Jake as the cry of its mate in distress might -reach an animal intent upon its prey. He flung the prey from him on the -instant and wheeled. He met her a full ten yards from the spot, just as -her feet slipped on the wet stones of the yard. He caught her--she -almost fell against him--and held her hard in his arms. - -She was sobbing terribly, utterly unstrung, hysterical. She struggled -for speech, but the wild sounds that left her lips were wholly -unintelligible. She struggled to free herself, but her strength was -gone. In the end, her knees suddenly gave way under her. She collapsed -with a gasping cry. And Jake, stooping, raised her, and bore her in -senseless out of the drenching rain. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE REASON - - -"You've only yourself to thank," said Capper. He tugged irritably at -his pointed yellow beard. His eyes were moody under brows that frowned. -"You might have known what to expect if you had an ounce of sense." - -"Guess I always was an all-fired fool," said Jake. - -The great doctor looked down at him from his post on the hearth, and his -eyes softened a little. For Jake's dejection was very thorough. He sat -as it were in dust and ashes. - -"Not always, my son," he said. "But I guess you've surpassed yourself -on this occasion. Well, it's done. She may get over it, but she won't -love you any the better for it. It'll be up to you to make a fresh -start presently." - -Jake was silent. He was not smoking. He sat with bent head and lowered -eyes. - -Capper contemplated him awhile, till at length a faint glint of humour -began to shine in his green eyes. He moved, and laid a long, wiry hand -upon Jake's shoulder. - -"Say, Jake!" he said. "Don't take it too hard, man! Let it be a lesson -to you, that's all. And the next time you want to whip a stable-boy, do -it on the quiet, and there'll be no misunderstandings. Guess you'll -have to sing small for a bit, but it's not a hanging matter. She'll -forgive you by and by." - -"Why should she?" Jake did not move his head or respond in any way to -the friendly touch. - -"Because she's that sort." Capper spoke with stout conviction. "She -won't hold out against you when she sees you're sorry. Don't be afraid -to tell her so, Jake! Don't hide your soul!" - -Jake raised his head suddenly, looking full up at Capper with eyes that -glowed red and sombre. "You don't quite grasp the situation, Doc," he -said. "She won't be sorry for this when she comes to herself. She -never wanted to bear a child of mine. She loathes the very ground I -walk on. She'd do most anything--most anything--to get quit of me. No, -I reckon she won't be sorry any. She'll be--sort of--glad!" - -"Oh, shucks!" Capper's hand suddenly smote him hard. "You don't know -women. I tell you, you don't know 'em!" - -"I know one!" Jake's voice was deadly calm. His eyes shone like a -still, hot fire. "I thought I could win her, though the odds were dead -against me. I staked all on the chance--the hundredth chance--and it's -gone. I've lost. There's no sense in pretending otherwise. Now that -this has happened I shan't hold her any longer, unless it's by brute -force; and I reckon there's more lost than gained that way. And yet I -know--I know--" his voice suddenly took a deeper note--"that where I've -failed, no other man has ever yet succeeded. No one else has ever got -to the heart of her. That I know." - -He spoke with grim force, as though challenging incredulity on Capper's -part, but Capper made no attempt to contradict him. He even nodded as -if he held the same opinion. - -"Then I guess it's up to you to find the way," he said. "There's a -better way for all of us than brute force, my son. There is a power -that all the violence in the world can't beat. It's greater than all -the devils. And you'll win out--you'll win out--on the strength of it." - -He paused. Jake's eyes had kindled a little. He set his hands on the -arms of his chair as though about to rise. - -"You get me?" Capper asked. - -A faint smile came over his face. "You speak as one who knows," he -said. - -"I do know." Capper's voice was very emphatic. "It's not an easy world -to live in. It's a mighty difficult one. But we've been given a compass -to steer by--a Divine compass, Jake, my lad. Guess it's our own fault -in the main if we fail to get there." - -He waited. The light was gradually growing in Jake's eyes. He had a -speculative, half-doubtful look. - -"And yet you advised me to jump the hedge," he said. - -Capper smiled somewhat ruefully. "I didn't tell you to burst your way -through, did I?" he said. "You didn't take it the right way, my son. -You blundered, and it's left a nasty breach. It's not beyond repair, -mind you. But it'll take some patience and some faith before it's all -filled up. Set to work on it right now! You've got the materials. Use -'em--all you know! Show her what Love--real Love--is worth! She's a -woman. She'll soon understand." - -Jake got to his feet with the quiet, purposeful movement of a man who -has work before him. He gripped Capper's hand for a moment, and looked -him straight in the face. - -"I reckon you're right, sir," he said, speaking rather heavily. "I've -made a damn' muddle of the whole show. I was nearer to her--several -lengths nearer--in the old days when we were just friends--just -friends--" his voice quivered slightly--"than I am now. Well, I reckon -I must get back to the old footing. We'll be--just friends--again." - -He turned from Capper with the words, went to the mantelpiece and took -up his pipe. - -The doctor watched him for awhile silently. There was a greatness about -the man's simplicity that commanded his respect. There was even an -element of the superb in it. - -"I take off my hat, to you, Jake," he said at length "You're a white -man." - -Jake's head was bent over his pipe. He made a brief, contemptuous -sound, and rammed it into his mouth. "We don't all think alike," he -said. "Well, I must be going anyway. So long, Doc!" - -"Where are you off to?" Capper asked. - -He made a gesture as of one who contemplates an unpleasant task. "I -must go up to the Castle. I said I would. I've got to tell Lord -Saltash how the Albatross failed this afternoon." - -"But, man, he knows!" exclaimed Capper. "He was there!" - -Jake turned round. His pipe was alight. He puffed at it grimly. -"Maybe he does. But it's my duty to tell him all the same. It may -interest him also to hear that Stevens won't be fit for the saddle again -for a week or two. I'd have marked the young blackguard for life if I -hadn't been stopped." His brows suddenly met fiercely. "I'd have got -out of him what he did it for too--though I guess I know. When a hot -favourite like the Albatross gets left behind like that there's always a -reason--a damn' substantial reason--at the bottom of it. Oh, it's a -foul business," he said bitterly. "I ought to have scratched sooner -than run the chance of having him pulled. I never trusted -Stevens--never. I'll see him drawn and quartered before he ever rides -another horse of mine!" - -"But you've no evidence?" suggested Capper. - -"I've the evidence of my own eyes," said Jake bluntly. "And there'll be -further evidence presently, or I'm a nigger." - -"What do you mean? He'll never own it." - -"No." Jake spoke with a savage disdain. "He won't have the spunk for -that. And he won't have the spunk either to take out a summons for -assault. He'll just take it all lying down. I know. I know." - -He swung round on his heel to go, went as far as the door, then suddenly -wheeled and came back. - -"Say, Capper!" he said, and all the savagery was gone from his voice; it -held a note of pleading. "She'll get over it, sure?" - -Capper's yellow face was full of kindness. He reached forth a hand that -gripped hard. "Please God she'll live to be the mother of your children -yet, Jake!" he said. - -Jake drew a sharp breath. "God knows I don't want her--just for that," -he said, with husky vehemence. - -And then abruptly, as if ashamed, he pulled his hand free and departed. - -Capper's fingers sought his beard as the door closed. "You're learning, -Jake," he said. "You're learning. Wonder how soon she'll begin to find -out that there's another man in the place where her husband used to be!" - -He coiled himself down into a chair, bending and cracking his long -fingers with meditative zest. But the frown remained between his brows. -If Capper the man was satisfied, Capper the doctor was very much the -reverse. He was not dismayed, but he was anxious, more anxious than he -deemed it necessary for anyone to know. - -"She'll pull through," he muttered to himself once. And again: "She must -pull through." - -But in his heart he knew that it was more than possible that his -patient's life might ebb out on the bitter tide of disappointment and -misery even when the worst danger seemed to be over. She was so lonely -in her trouble, so piteously bereft of all desire or incentive to live. - -Up in the room above, Maud lay, white and still, her dark hair all about -her, her eyes closed, an aloofness that was almost like the shadow of -Death wrapping her round. - -Mrs. Wright sat by her side, very alert and watchful. It was growing -late, but she had long ago signified her intention of remaining for the -night. Very practical and sure of herself was Mrs. Wright. She and Dr. -Capper were already firm allies. - -The night was close, and the windows were flung wide. The door into the -adjoining room was wide open also, and a faint current of air eddied -about the room, stirring now and again the chintz hangings of the -old-fashioned bed, rustling occasionally the white muslin curtains at -the window. The wash of the sea came up vaguely from the dark distance. -It sounded like the far splashing of mighty oars. - -Near at hand, down in the dim garden there came sometimes the mysterious -movements of some small creature creeping stealthily through the bushes, -and once or twice down in the orchard an owl hooted its weird, -half-human signal. - -Mrs. Wright did not like the voice of the owl. She shivered whenever -she heard it; but Maud lay as one oblivious of all things, drifting, -drifting, on a great lonely sea on which no sun ever rose or star shone. - -Someone came into the adjoining room and stood in the open doorway. -Mrs. Wright looked swiftly round. - -Jake's eyes met hers, he made a brief sign for silence. Then, without -sound, he crept in and stood against the bed-curtain, looking down -mutely at his wife's still face. - -Several seconds of complete silence followed, then, quite suddenly, as -though someone had called her, she opened her eyes wide and turned her -head. - -He drew back behind the curtain on the instant ere she could catch sight -of him, standing motionless as a statue, not seeming so much as to -breathe. - -A troubled frown gathered on Maud's face; she made a restless movement. - -At once Mrs. Wright bent to her from the other side of the bed. "What -is it, my dearie? You're not in pain?" - -Maud was panting a little. She tried to raise herself, but was gently -checked by a motherly hand. She took and held it with trembling -fingers. - -"Mrs. Wright,--please--you won't go!" she begged. - -"Surely not, my dear." Stoutly Mrs. Wright made answer. "I'm going to -take care of you all night long." - -But Maud was not wholly reassured. She clung faster to the plump, -soothing hand. "If Jake comes in, he--he will want to send you away. -Don't let him, Mrs. Wright! I--I can't be alone with Jake to-night." - -She was becoming agitated, but Mrs. Wright gently hushed her. "You -shan't be, dearest. Jake wants me to be with you to-night. He is very -unhappy about you, is poor Jake. Dear knows you needn't be afraid of -him." - -"Oh, how can I help it after what he did to Charlie? Did you see? Did -you see? Is Charlie very badly hurt?" - -"Charlie?" questioned Mrs. Wright. - -"Charlie Burchester--Lord Saltash. Didn't you see what--what Jake did -to him? Oh, it was terrible--terrible!" A great shudder shook her at -the remembrance of what she had seen. - -"My dear! My dear!" Mrs. Wright leaned to her, smoothing her pillow. -"Why, what a mistake to be sure! And to think you've put yourself out -like this all for nothing! Dear, dear, dear, to be sure! That wasn't -Lord Saltash, darling. Whatever made you think it was? It was just one -of them pesky stable-boys as he was giving a jacketing to; and richly he -deserved it, I'll be bound." - -"Oh, Mrs. Wright!" Maud's voice was suddenly eager. "Are you sure? Are -you sure?" - -Her dark eyes, wide and beseeching, were raised in earnest questioning -to her old friend's kindly face. She clung to the sustaining hand. - -"My dear, of course I'm sure. I came along behind you. I saw it all. -It was that young dog, Dick Stevens. I know him well, never did like -him; and I'm sure he deserved all he got, probably more. Now you -mustn't worry yourself any longer. Leave it all to old Mother Wright -and go to deep! Will you, my dearie?" - -"You're sure Charlie is safe?" Maud said quiveringly. "He--he was -coming--don't tell Jake!--to see me to-day. But he didn't come. And I -thought--I thought--Oh, are you sure Jake isn't listening?" - -She broke off in sudden terror, starting up as if she would tear aside -the curtain. But Mrs. Wright was swift to interpose. - -"My dear, you mustn't upset yourself like this. It's very wrong. What -if Jake did know? Surely he would understand. He would know that there -could be no reason why Lord Saltash should not drop in and see you in a -friendly way now and then. Didn't you tell me you were old friends?" - -"Oh, you don't know Jake!" moaned Maud. "He is so terrible--so -terrible. He would shoot Charlie--if he knew!" - -"My dear!" Mrs. Wright was genuinely shocked. She threw a sharp glance -towards the curtain. "But there is no reason! There can be no reason! -You're talking wildly. You can't know what you're saying." - -Maud had sunk back upon her pillows, white-lipped, exhausted. "There is -a reason," she whispered. "There is a reason! I love Charlie. I have -loved him for years. And Jake--Jake would kill him if he knew. He does -know--a little. That's why--why I am so--afraid. Oh, I wish--I wish I -were--dead!" - -She ceased to speak, and a dreadful pallor crept up over her face. Mrs. -Wright, anxiously watching, saw that she was slipping into -unconsciousness, and across the bed she issued a sharp command. - -"Quick, Jake! Go and fetch the doctor!" - -The shadow behind the curtain vanished. Mrs. Wright reached for a fan. -The heat was intense. The darkness hung before the window like a pall. -And the good woman trembled a little in spite of herself. She felt as -if the Angel of Death had suddenly entered the quiet room to share her -watch. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - REFUGE - - -"So you've come to see your old uncle at last! Dear me, you've been a -precious long time about it. Tut, tut, child, what a clothes-peg to be -sure! Sit down. Sit down! You don't look fit to stand." - -Old Uncle Edward pulled out a chair from his dining-room table and -almost thrust his visitor into it. Then he turned, seized a decanter, -and poured some wine into a large old-fashioned glass goblet. - -"You drink this! It's good stuff--older than you are. It'll turn to -blood in your veins, and a good thing too. You look as if you hadn't got -more than a thin half-pint in the whole of your constitution. There! -That's better. Don't be afraid of it! Don't be afraid of it! Take -another dose before you start talking! I know what you women are once -your tongues get going. Take another dose, I say! You're looking -half-dead. What have they been doing to you? Starving you?" - -His grey whiskers seemed to bristle with indignation as he asked the -question; his eyes glared at her like the eyes of a terrier on the hunt. -Maud sat in the red velvet chair with a feeling of vast unreality. It -was true that she was feeling almost too weak to stand, and her weakness -imparted to her an odd desire to cry. The gruff kindliness of her -reception made her feel like a lost child brought home to a kind but -somewhat severe parent. She drank the wine in almost unbroken silence. - -Uncle Edward stood looking on, sternly critical. "So you've been ill, -have you? I can see you have. Poor girl, poor girl! Well, we must see -what we can do, to get you strong again. And you haven't brought your -young brother along? How is he? Quite cured?" - -"Yes, quite cured." Maud put out a hesitating hand and somewhat shyly -slipped it into her uncle's. "He is quite cured," she said, forcing a -difficult smile. "And he would have come too--it was so good of you to -ask him--only it is September, and the school will soon be opening; and -it seemed a pity not to let him go at the beginning of the term. We all -thought so." - -Uncle Edward grunted as if not wholly pleased. But his old knotted -fingers closed very kindly about her own. "So your good husband is going -to pay for his schooling, is he? That's very generous of him--very -generous, indeed. He's a man of property, is he,--your Jake?" - -A quick flush rose in Maud's upturned face; she averted it swiftly. "I -don't know. He seems to be able to do anything he likes. He--he is -very kind to Bunny." - -Uncle Edward grunted again. "Well, and how do you amuse yourself, now -that the all-important Bunny is off your hands? I suppose you play the -busy housewife, do you?" - -Maud uttered a faint laugh as forced as her smile had been. "Oh no. I -don't do anything. There is an old woman who cooks and does everything. -I really can't think of anything that I do. Of course lately--just -lately--I haven't been able to do things. But everything goes very well -without me." - -Uncle Edward squeezed her hand and released it. "You've too humble an -opinion of yourself, my dear. Most women get uppish when they marry. I -don't as a rule like young married women for that reason. They think -all the world stands still to admire 'em. But you--well, you're -different. You and I will get on together." - -He smiled upon her so suddenly and so genially that she felt as if a -burst of sunshine had warmed her tired soul. She lifted her face with a -gesture that was half-instinctive, and he stooped at once and kissed it. - -"You're a very pretty young woman," he said, patting her cheek -paternally. "At least you might be, if you weren't so painfully thin. -You've been very ill, I can see. You're hardly fit to travel alone now. -Why didn't you tell me? I'd have come and fetched you if I'd known." - -"Oh, I didn't travel alone," she said. "I had Dr. Capper with me. I -shouldn't have come so soon but for him. He was going to the docks, and -he offered to bring me and take care of me. He knew how dreadfully I -wanted to get away." - -"And who may Dr. Capper be?" Uncle Edward demanded grimly. - -"He is a very great American surgeon--a friend of Jake's. He was with -us when--when I began to be ill. And--and I have been in his hands ever -since." Maud spoke haltingly. "He is a very kind man," she said. "I -don't think I should have lived if it hadn't been for him. He made me -live." - -"Oh, he's one of your quacks, is he?" Uncle Edward spoke with a mighty -contempt. "Well, I thank Heaven I've never called in a doctor all my -life, and I consider it's one of the chief reasons why I've lived so -long. People think a deal too much about their health nowadays. The -world is getting neurotic. Plenty of fresh air and exercise, and good -wholesome food. That's my motto. No beastly doctors' messes for me. -Now that man of yours, he's a healthy animal, I'll be bound. I liked -the looks of him, and the ways of him too. A bit off-hand, but straight -and clean. He's been good to you, has he?" - -He shot the question with an abruptness that found Maud wholly -unprepared. She made an involuntary movement of shrinking. - -"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Uncle Edward. "He's been high-handed, I -gather. Just what I expected. If a man doesn't make love to a woman -before he marries her, he'll never be bothered to after. Silly fool! -Silly fool! Still, you might have done worse. Don't take him too -seriously, my dear! Tip him off his perch if he crows too loud!" - -Maud smiled her faint sad smile and rose. "I am not complaining of -anyone, Uncle Edward. You mustn't jump to conclusions. And you mustn't -call Dr. Capper a quack, for he has healed Bunny. Now, may I please go -up to my room? I know you are busy, and I shall be glad to rest for a -little if I may." - -"Go by all means!" said Uncle Edward. "You're to do exactly as you like -in this house. Consider the whole show at your disposal! Come and go -exactly as you will!" He drew her to him abruptly and kissed her a -second time. "Be happy, my dear!" he said. "Be happy! You won't be -young always, and there's not much fun to be had when you're -old--specially if you're alone. But you'll never be that, please -Heaven. You'll have your children and your children's children growing -up around you--even when you're old." - -He paused, holding her, for Maud had suddenly hidden her face against -his shoulder. "I can't look forward--like that," she whispered. "I -often think--that I'd rather--live alone." - -There was a pathos in her words that bordered upon tragedy. Uncle -Edward thrust a protecting arm about her, rasping his throat as if -something had made it smart. "Tut, tut!" he said. "You wouldn't enjoy -it for long. There's precious little fun in the lonely life, I can tell -you, for I know. I sit here on a Sunday and listen to the quiet till -even the racket of a dog-fight would be welcome. We're all the same, I -expect; wanting what we haven't got instead of making the best of what -we have. I should think the Almighty must smile sometimes at the very -contrariness of us." - -He patted her shoulder as she lifted her head, looking at her with his -keen grey eyes that held humour as well as sympathy. - -"You'll have plenty of solitude in this establishment, anyhow," he said. -"You can soak yourself in it all day long. There's a library that may -amuse you, but that's all I can offer in the way of entertainment." - -"Oh, I don't want entertainment," Maud assured him. - -"You're singularly unlike your mother," was Uncle Edward's comment. - -He did not ask her how her mother was faring, and she did not feel that -the moment for speaking of her affairs had arrived. There was a touch -of the formidable about the old man, all his kindness to her -notwithstanding; and she felt too tired and ill for a difficult -discussion. She wanted to lie down and rest for a long, long time. - -This visit to Uncle Edward meant deliverance to her from a yoke too -heavy to be borne. All through her illness she had yearned for, striven -for, this escape; and because of this intense longing of hers, Capper, -realizing that disappointment could but retard her progress, had set -himself to further her desire. - -Jake had offered no opposition to it. She had scarcely seen Jake since -the night of the races, and not once had they been alone together. He -had bidden her farewell that morning in Capper's presence briefly, -almost coldly. There had not been even so much as a touch of hands -between them at parting. He had got into the carriage after them, it -was true, and had wrapped a rug about her knees; but he had done it -without any personal solicitude or show of sympathy. Only at the very -last, just as the train started, had he looked her in the face; and then -as it were half against his will he had turned his eyes upon her. - -And the memory of that look had gone with her throughout the journey; it -was to haunt her for many days with a strange poignancy. For the -red-brown eyes had held no mastery, no passion, only a dumb misery that -had somehow gone to her heart. Why had he looked at her like that? Why -was he so unhappy? Had he wanted to speak to her and failed for lack of -words? Did he blame himself at all for what had happened? Did he -desire in any way to make amends? - -She had thought that to escape from his proximity would have been sheer -relief, but now that she actually found herself free from all -possibility of seeing him she was curiously perturbed by the thought of -him. She had an odd little regret that she had not waved a hand to him -as the train had borne her away. Just a friendly wave to show him that -she harboured no resentment any longer! She might have done it, but for -an overpowering shyness that had prevented any expression of farewell. -Ill though she was, ill and weary, she could have made him that sign of -friendship and been none the worse for it. - -But reserve had held her back. It towered between them, a barrier more -insurmountable than it had ever been before. And behind that reserve -her whole being crouched in fear. For she had begun to tell herself -over and over, over and over, like a panic-stricken child, that once -away from him she could never return, never, face again that which she -had faced. - -Possibly he had begun to realize this also; possibly that was why he had -looked at her so. Would he accept it as inevitable, she wondered? -Would he, now that she had dragged herself free for a space from a -bondage unendurable, be merciful and let her go altogether? - -There was her promise. Oh yes, there was her promise. But might not -that promise now be regarded as fulfilled? She had striven to do her -duty, but it had proved too hard for her. Surely he must see that now! -Surely he could not wish to hold her any longer against her will! The -thought tortured her. She was like a hunted creature in a temporary -refuge all exits from which were barred. If she made a final dash for -freedom and the open, she would almost certainly be trapped. - -Against her will the thought of Charlie went through her like a flaming -sword;--Charlie who had sworn to be a friend to her--Charlie from whom -she had not heard one single word since that awful day that she had -awaited him in vain. No one had spoken to her of him, but that he was -no longer at the Castle she was fairly convinced. He had, as it were, -darted like a fire-fly into her ken and out of it again. But he would -return. She was sure he would return. And when he came--what then? -What then? - -She did not ask herself why he had gone in that sudden fashion. It was -so characteristic of the man that she saw nothing in it. That there had -been no encounter between him and Jake she was now certain. Perhaps he -had gone away for her sake in order to avert Jake's suspicion. His -complete silence seemed to point to this. But it was quite useless to -speculate. His ways were past understanding, so vague was her knowledge -of the motive that governed his actions. - -Meanwhile the problem of her mother's difficulties remained and was -becoming more and more acute. The place had been mortgaged by Sheppard -to Saltash's predecessor who had had a fancy for possessing the whole of -Fairharbour; and the affairs of the landlord of the Anchor Hotel had -been on the downward trend ever since. Occasionally a good season would -arrest this decline for a space; but good seasons were becoming more and -more rare. Giles Sheppard sought consolation too often in his cellars, -and the management was no longer what it had been. Regular visitors were -beginning to desert him in consequence, and the downward slope was -rapidly becoming precipitous. Saltash's man of business was tightening -his hold, and Sheppard's tenure of the place was becoming week by week -more uncertain. - -All of this Maud knew. Her mother was growing desperate. Her life, it -seemed, had been nothing but a series of misfortunes, and this -threatened to be the greatest of them all. Giles had deceived her -outrageously, and now that he had secured her he cared for her no -longer, save when his frequent libations rendered him tipsily amorous. -Something of a vixenish nature was beginning to develop in Mrs. -Sheppard. She was no more the gentle, plaintive creature she had been. -She had once--and only once--approached Jake on the subject of financial -help. Maud was unaware of this. Jake's reply had been perfectly -courteous but uncompromisingly firm. He would give Mrs. Sheppard -shelter, if she ever needed it, but he would have nothing to do with her -husband or his affairs. Mrs. Sheppard had turned from him with a bitter -look that had said more than words. And since that day she had steadily -avoided all intercourse even with her daughter, declaring herself far -too busy to get as far as the Stables. - -Maud had not needed her; but none the less she was uneasy about her. -She wished she knew where Charlie was; but she could not risk sending a -letter to the Castle. There seemed to be nothing more she could do. She -had begun to tell him of her trouble. He knew she needed help. -Possibly even he might without further persuasion refrain from carrying -matters to extremes. She had mentioned her mother to him. He must have -understood. He would surely remember her distress. - -And yet whenever her thoughts turned towards him the memory of Jake's -words awoke within her, tormented her: "Trust him, and he will let you -down,--sure." Why had he spoken so certainly? What did he know of -Saltash and his ways? Was it possible--could it be--that he knew a side -of Charlie's whimsical nature that had never been presented to her? Or -was she so blind that she had failed to perceive it? It was true that -in the old days he had failed her, he had wavered in his allegiance. -But he had come back. He had come back. Always she remembered that. -And because he had come back, her heart had warmed to him again, against -her will, against her judgment, even in spite of every instinct. He -belonged to her; that was the thought that flashed with such a burning -intensity through her soul, the thought that refused utterly to be -stifled or put away. He belonged to her and to none other, trifle or -intrigue as he might. She was his fate. How often he had said it! And -so he would return. She was sure he would return. And when he -came--what then? Ah, what then? - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - THE LAMP BEFORE THE ALTAR - - -Life at Uncle Edward's was as he had predicted a very quiet affair -indeed, but Maud slipped into it very easily, with a sense of comfort at -her heart. It had a healing effect upon her. It stilled the fevered -unrest of her spirit. It was all so well-ordered, so methodical. It -soothed her, gave her a sense of normality and peace. Her physical -strength came back to her with a rapidity that surprised herself, and -with its return she found herself beginning to look upon the world with -new eyes, found herself able to thrust dark thoughts and problems into -the background, found herself at rest. - -At Uncle Edward's suggestion, she wrote once a week to Jake. It was not -easy to write, but when her uncle remarked that the young man would -probably come tearing hell-for-leather across England to find out what -was the matter if she didn't, she deemed it the wiser course to follow. -Her letters were very brief, very formal, and the letters she received -in reply were equally so. She was sure that they were penned in that -cheerless little den of his that faced north and overlooked the -stable-yard. - -Bunny's letters were very few and far between. He was completely -engrossed with the thought of the new life at school upon which he was -about to enter, and it was very plain to Maud that he missed her not at -all. The fact had ceased to hurt her as poignantly as when she first -discovered it. Empty though her life was, she had learned by degrees to -do without him. She was learning day by day to endure that emptiness -with patience, for by some secret instinct she knew that it would not be -her portion for ever. - -Not far from her uncle's house, at the corner of a busy street, there -stood an old grey church. The doors were always open, and one day she -dropped in to rest. - -It was the first visit of many. The place was infinitely peaceful, full -of silence and soft shadows. A red light burned ever before the altar, -and there were always beautiful flowers upon it, white lilies that never -seemed to fade. She loved to draw near and smell the incense of those -flowers, to gaze upon their shining purity, to feel with awe that the -ground beneath her feet was holy. - -She did not often turn her eyes upon the lamp that burned so still and -red. It was always the flowers that drew her, the fragrance of them -that comforted her soul. - -Once, on a golden afternoon in mid-September, she came in late and -stayed for the evening service; and then it was that, sitting in the -body of the church, she found herself gazing, gazing, not at the -flowers, but at the red, mystic flame that burned unflickering before -the altar. It reminded her of something, that still red -flame,--something that made her want to flee away and hide. It came -between her and her prayers. It lay in wait for her in her dreams. - -And yet when Sunday evening came and Uncle Edward prepared to sally -forth alone, she put forward a tentative suggestion that she should -accompany him. - -He was delighted with the proposal, and as they fared forth together, -his horny old hand was on her arm, making her glad that she was with -him. - -They sat near the door, and she was secretly relieved. In the glare of -many lights all down the body of the church, the gleam of that one red -light was swallowed up and she saw only the flowers. It was a beautiful -service--a harmonious whole in which no individual note was struck. The -man who officiated was young and very quiet, and not till he ascended -the pulpit was she aware of anything out of the ordinary in his -personality. It came to her then instantaneously, like a flash-light -piercing her soul. He struck no attitudes, made no visible attempt to -gain the attention of his audience; but it was fully his from the moment -he began to speak. He preached, not as one delivering a discourse, but -with the absolute simplicity of a man who speaks from his heart. "Let -your lights be burning," were the words he first uttered, and then -without preamble he began to talk of Love--Love Divine, Unconquerable, -Eternal--Love that stoops but is never small--Love that soars, but is -never out of reach. He spoke of the great warfare of the spirit, of the -thousand difficulties holding back the soul. And he declared that Love -was the one great weapon to meet and overcome them all. "We do not know -the power of Love," he said. "We only know that it is invincible and -undying--the very Essence of God." He spoke of spiritual blindness, and -swept it aside as nought. "We may not all of us be able to believe; but -we can all have Love. Nothing counts in the same way. However blind we -may be, we can keep that one lamp burning in the darkness, burning in -the desert, giving light to the outcast, and guiding the feet of the -wanderers." - -It was while he was speaking thus that the lights in the body of the -church went down and the red flame before the altar shone clear and -unchanging in the gloom. Maud's eyes were drawn instantly to it, became -riveted upon it. She sat with bated breath, almost as one who watched a -miracle. And by some strange telepathy the man in the pulpit became -aware of it also. He turned towards it. - -"Look at that light!" he said. "It is kept burning perpetually, the -symbol of undying worship, undying Love. Everyone may keep such a light -as that burning always. The spark is ours for the kindling. It may be -placed before the Altar of an Unknown God. But none the less is it -offered to His Glory and immortal. It is not faith or hope that the -soul needs above all things. It is Love, the power to love, and the -power to create love--the will to offer love perpetually before the -Altar of Love. It is only love that counts in the long run, only love -that survives. There may be a thousand other things around us when we -die, good and evil, but the only thing we shall carry with us beyond is -that lamp that we have always kept burning before the altar and never -suffered to go out. It is no easy thing to keep it always burning in -this world of many failures. It is bound to flicker sometimes, even to -die down; but while we live, the power to revive it is still ours, the -power to worship God with love." He paused a moment, turned slowly back -to face the dim nave, and then very quietly he gave utterance to words -that Maud was never to forget. "We all want Love, hunger for it, starve -for it. Our lives are mere ash-heaps without it. But do we all realize -that love is only gained by love, that we must pour out all we have to -win it, that we must purge our hearts of all selfish desire, sanctify -ourselves by self-sacrifice, by the complete renunciation of self, -before the perfect gift can be ours? Love is a joyful sacrifice. There -are people whom everyone loves. They are the people who realize what -Love means, who give and give, without measure, not counting the cost, -rejoicing only in the power to give, till it all comes back to them a -thousandfold. It is then that the ploughman overtakes the reaper, for -ploughman and reaper are one." - -When Maud lay down that night, those words were still running in her -mind. That unstinted giving, that measureless pouring out, that utter -sacrifice, were these indeed the means by which the desert could be made -to blossom--even for her? - -She slept sooner than usual, but the echoes of that quiet voice still -followed her down through the deeps of slumber, till she dreamed that -she was back before that shining altar of flowers. And a radiance that -was not of earth was all about her--a radiance unimaginable that was -warmth as well as light; and looking up she saw that it came from the -red lamp above her--the symbol of undying Love. - -As in a trance she waited, for the wonder of the thing held her -spellbound. And while she waited, she became aware of someone else in -the holy place, someone who moved stealthily, as if half-afraid. And -turning, by the light of that revealing glow, she saw her husband with -that look of silent misery in his eyes. - -It pierced her then as it had not pierced her before. She was conscious -of an almost fierce impulse to comfort, an impulse that urged her to -him, banishing all hesitation, all doubt. She went near to him, she -gave him both her hands. And even as she did so, the look in his eyes -changed. She saw a deep, still fire come into them. It seemed to be -reflected from the red lamp above. He moved forward with her into the -glow. - -And suddenly her own eyes were opened and she knew that he loved her--he -loved her.... - -Then she awoke with a palpitating heart and realized that it was a -dream. - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE OPEN DOOR - - -Not till she had been in her uncle's house for close upon four weeks did -Maud brace herself to speak to him of her mother. She had been on the -verge of doing so many times, but always, in his bluff fashion, he had -managed to convey to her that the subject was not to be broached. - -But for an urgent letter from Mrs. Sheppard herself, she would scarcely -have summoned the courage to break through what was almost a -prohibition, for Uncle Edward was not an easy man to resist; and even as -she did so, she knew with absolute conviction that her effort was -foredoomed to failure. She scarcely knew how to make it, so -uncompromising was the old man's attitude, and when at last it was made, -when in desperation she forced herself to tell him of her mother's -pitiable plight, she regretted it almost immediately so curtly was her -information received. She saw that Uncle Edward was really angry though -he said but little. She also saw that what she said on her mother's -behalf made not the smallest impression upon his will. He heard her out -indeed, but so grimly that at length, feeling that she was presenting -the matter quite inadequately in face of his total lack of sympathy, she -gave him her mother's hysterical appeal to read. - -He shook his head at first, but finally, as she pressed it upon him -almost tearfully, he took and read the letter. Then, while anxiously she -watched him, he tore it across and across and flung it back to her over -the table. - -"Pshaw!" he said. "The woman's a hypocrite--a confounded impostor. I -know her. You don't. Leave her alone, and let her sink!" - -And with that he stumped angrily from the room with beetling brows and -fiery eyes. - -Maud sat very still after his departure. She had known in her heart -that it was hopeless to appeal to him, but now that the appeal had -failed she was utterly nonplussed. There was no doubt in her mind that -matters were desperate. Her mother had made her realize that, and she -felt she could not write and tell her that she could do nothing. Slight -as was the bond of sympathy between them, still were they mother and -daughter, and she could not fling her off as Uncle Edward recommended. -In a fashion the old man's anger reacted in her mother's favour; for she -was conscious of indignation on her behalf. Whatever Mrs. Sheppard's -faults might be--and it was quite possible that insincerity was among -them--he had no right to abuse her to her daughter. It aroused her own -anger, and it aroused also that protective instinct which was never very -far below the surface with her. When she rose at length, her face was -very pale and determined. She had not wanted to write to Charlie, but -it seemed that she had no choice. - -It was a still, warm afternoon in October. She went into the -drawing-room, a stiff apartment upholstered in gold brocade, and sat -down at a writing-table in a window-recess to write. - -It was the most difficult letter she had ever composed, and yet she had -never experienced the smallest difficulty in writing to him before. She -could not express herself freely. Words would not come. She desired to -avoid all reference to what had passed between them on that night of -witchery on which they had last met. She wanted to blot it out of her -mind and heart, to address him, to regard him, as only a friend. Ever -since that Sunday evening, now nearly a week ago, she had kept her -thoughts rigidly from straying in his direction. Had it been possible -she would have put him altogether out of her life. It was not possible, -and she knew it. But it was with the greatest reluctance that she set -herself to write to him, and her reluctance displayed itself in every -sentence. - -She sat over that letter for the greater part of the afternoon, and when -it was finished at last she felt utterly dissatisfied with it. She had -an urgent desire to tear it up. But she could not face the writing of -another. With a weary sigh she closed and stamped the envelope. - -It was then that there fell a step outside the drawing-room door, and -Uncle Edward's discreet, elderly maidservant peeped in. - -Maud turned in her chair. "What is it, Martha?" - -Martha was about to explain, but broke off with a gasp and drew back. -There was a muttered word in the doorway, and the next moment Martha had -disappeared, and a man's figure stood in the opening. - -"Hullo!" said Charlie, with a smile of gay effrontery. "May I come in?" - -Maud sat for a second or two as one in a trance and stared at him. It -was as if the afternoon's labour had suddenly taken concrete form. - -He did not wait for her greeting, but came lightly forward with hands -outstretched. "Ah, queen of the roses," he said, "what a peculiarly -unbecoming setting you have chosen for yourself! Why--why--what is -that? A letter to me? How many times a day do you write them?" - -With a lithe, elastic movement, he drew her to her feet, held her a -moment, looking at her, then bent his smiling, swarthy face to hers. - -"Greeting, queen of the roses!" he said. - -She awoke then, came out of her trance, drew swiftly back from him. -"Oh, Charlie, is it--is it really you?" she said rather incoherently. -"You--how you startled me!" - -He let her go, as always, at her desire, but with a faint, monkeyish -grimace of disapproval. "You were always easily shocked," he said. -"But on this occasion I assure you there is no need. I found myself in -the neighbourhood, and thought it would be the correct thing to pay you -a morning call." - -His queer eyes mocked her openly as he made the explanation. She felt -discomfited, painfully embarrassed, and withal conscious of an almost -desperate longing to tell him to go. - -But she knew she could not do that. Too much hung in the balance. - -"Sit down!" she said, mustering her dignity with an immense effort. -"And I will tell you why I have been writing to you." - -"Wouldn't it save trouble to show me the letter?" he suggested, with -easy audacity. "Or have you decided--now that you have had a further -opportunity of considering my personal charms--that you really can't?" - -She flushed at the implied suggestion. "You can read the letter if you -like," she said somewhat stiffly. "It is on business." - -She held it out to him, and he sank upon one knee to receive it. - -"_Merci, ma belle reine_! Do you wish me to read it in your august -presence?" - -"Please!" she said. - -He sat facing her, and read it. - -She watched his mobile brows as his eyes travelled over the page. She -saw amusement turn to humour and humour to merriment on his face. When -he looked up at her at length he was laughing. - -"You write as a serf appealing to a feudal lord," he said. "Did you -mean to write like that?" - -She shook her head at him gravely. "It is not a laughing matter," she -said. - -"What I am laughing at is," he rejoined, still smiling with a hint of -derision. "By the way, have you heard from our worthy cow-puncher -lately?" - -She flinched sharply, before she was aware. Her whole body tingled with -a sudden, burning blush. - -And Saltash laughed again wickedly. "I saw him yesterday. He was in a -fiendish temper for some reason or other. Naturally I asked after you, -when he was expecting you back. What do you think he said?" - -"What?" Maud breathed the word through lips that panted. Her heart was -beating violently she knew not why. - -Saltash's dark face seemed to exult over her agitation. "He said,--you -know his soft, drawly way--'I guess I shall go--shortly--and fetch her -back, my lord.' I wondered if you were aware of his amiable intention. -There was the most deadly air of determination about him. I thought you -might like to know." - -Maud's face was no longer burning; she was white to the lips. But she -turned from the subject with composure. "How did you know where to find -me?" - -He laughed teasingly. "You are curiously curious, Maud of the roses. -Don't you yet realize that I always know everything? For instance, I -know exactly why you are treating me to this wet-blanket reception. But -you would be angry if I told you; so I won't. I also know--" he paused -suddenly. "Shall I say it? No, perhaps I had better not." - -She smiled faintly. "Perhaps it is beside the point, Charlie. Do you -mind coming back to the subject of that letter? It is that that is -troubling me now more than anything else." - -"Really?" he said. "But why should you be troubled? It wouldn't trouble -me to see my arch-enemy in dire straits." - -"It is my mother I am anxious about," she said. "If Giles Sheppard goes -under, she will go too." - -Saltash raised his brows in amused interrogation. "Oh, does that -follow? I should abandon the sinking ship if I were Mrs. Sheppard. She -has nothing to gain by sticking to it." - -Maud received the remark in silence. He leaned forward, his dark face -still smiling. - -"Do you know I love you for that?" he said. "_Chere reine des fleurs_, -lady of the golden silences! Do you ever say what you really think?" - -She shook her head. "Charlie, I am learning--very slowly--a hard -lesson. Don't--please--make it any harder for me!" - -"What?" he said. "You are really going back to him?" - -She put up a hand to her face, almost as if she would hide it from him. -"I don't know--yet--what I shall do. But I do know that it would be -wrong not to go back." - -"_Mais vraiment!_" he protested. "Is life so simple as that? How do -you arrive at that conclusion? Do you follow always the easy path of -virtue?" - -She looked at him quickly. "It is not easy!" she said. - -He lifted his shoulders. "No? But it is--safe at least. And you do not -possess the adventurous soul. You like to be--safe, _ma belle_, even at -the sacrifice of your very heart. Do you remember that night of -moonshine? But of course you do. Do you know that I prowled in the -garden half the night for your sake--just in case you should deem it -worth while to be true to that poor heart of yours? You went through a -good deal that night, my Maud." His voice changed subtly; the -half-scoffing note went out of it, a faint warmth of pity took its -place. "And yet you endured it all in silence. Why didn't you break -free and come to me? You knew--and so did he--that I was waiting,--or -you might have known." - -Maud's head was bent; she did not attempt to answer him. - -He got up abruptly and came to her. "Good-bye, Maud of the roses!" - -She started slightly. "You are going?" - -"Yes, I am going. I have received my discharge. My faithful service is -at end--unless--or may I say until?--that message comes to call me -back." He bent towards her. "Even I cannot wait for ever." he said. -"Do you know I stood by the orchard-gate in the rain for two hours on -the day of the races? You had a visitor, and so I would not intrude -upon you. But you, _chere reine_,--you knew I was going to be there. -And yet you never came." - -She raised her head sharply, moved by something in his tone. "But how -could I? How could I?" she said. "Besides,--Jake knew." - -He laughed. "Yes, Jake knew. He saw me that night of moonshine. He -nearly challenged me. And then he changed his mind and passed on. I -conclude it didn't suit him to quarrel with me. But what of that? He -was bound to know some day." - -She clasped her hands tightly together. "If he knew all--he would shoot -you," she said, with a sudden hard shudder. - -But Saltash only laughed again, and touched a wisp of her hair. "Oh, I -don't think so, queen of the roses. I think he would have pity on my -innocence--if he knew all. But that isn't the point, you know. The -point is that you choose bondage with him rather than freedom with me. -And that being so, I can only bow to your ruling. Once more--good-bye!" - -She parted her hands with an effort, and gave him one of them. "What -about--my mother, Charlie?" she said. - -He pressed her fingers lightly. "I commend her to the kind care of her -worthy son-in-law." - -She raised her eyes to his almost incredulously. "You are going to--to -let them be ruined?" - -He smiled at her, flashing his strange eyes. "It wouldn't do for you to -be under an obligation--a personal obligation--to me, would it? -Jake--you know--Jake might object." - -She rose quickly and stood facing him. "Charlie, please don't jest!" -she urged him, her voice low and very earnest. - -His smile became a grimace. "It rests with you," he said, "whether I -jest my way to the devil or whether I live a godly, righteous and sober -life for evermore. If it is to be the latter, then I am quite prepared -to fulfil my virtuous devoirs to my prospective mother-in-law. But if -the former is to be my portion--well, I don't think even St. Peter -himself would have saddled himself with anyone else's. That is the -position, _chere reine. Tu comprends maintenant_?" - -Yes, she understood. There was nothing complex in the situation. She -stood looking at him her hand still in his. - -"Then I cannot look upon you as--a friend?" she said at last, almost -under her breath. - -He smiled upon her--a sudden, baffling smile. "But ask yourself that -question, Maud of the roses!" he said. "You will find the answer there -in your own heart, if you seek for it." - -She quivered at the words, feeling the subtle attraction of the man even -against her will. - -"You have refused to help me," she said. - -He bent towards her, his dark face glowing. "I offer you--all I have," -he said. "It is your own, to do with as you will. But you must take -all or leave all. Maud, Maud," his speech quickened to sudden -vehemence, "you love me! Why do you cling to your prison when the door -is standing wide? Now is your time to escape, if ever. I will take all -your cares--all your burdens. You shall be free as air. Only--now that -the door is open--come!" - -"Yes. I should shut the door another time if I were you," a gruff voice -commented behind them. "It's a rash thing, young man, to leave the door -open when you're talking confidences. What are you doing in this house, -I wonder? Did you come in at the door?" - -Both Maud and Saltash had faced round at the first sentence, she with a -sharp exclamation, he with a laugh. - -Uncle Edward, his eyes very bright under the beetling brows, stumped up -to them with the air of an old watchdog investigating the presence of a -suspicious stranger. He rasped his throat ferociously as he came. - -"Who may you be?" he demanded. - -"I?" Saltash was laughing still, facing the situation with his hands in -his pockets, the soul of careless effrontery. "I don't suppose you have -ever heard my name before. I am Saltash." - -"Who?" Uncle Edward turned for explanation towards his niece. - -"Lord Saltash," she said, in a low voice. - -"Oh! Lord Saltash!" The old man turned back to him with a sound like a -snarl. "Yes, I have heard of you before. You were co-respondent in the -Cressady divorce case a few years back." - -Saltash laughed again with easy nonchalance. "You have a good memory, -sir. If it serves you as it should, you will also recall the fact that -the case was dismissed." - -"I remember--all the facts," said Uncle Edward, with ominous -deliberation, "And as it is not my custom to admit men of your stamp -into my house, you will oblige me by quitting it without delay." - -Saltash turned to Maud. "I am sorry you have been caught in such bad -company," he said. "Pray explain that I came uninvited! I shall be at -Burchester for the present. When you come back, you and your husband -must come and dine. Good-bye!" - -With the unabashed smile still on his ugly face, he turned to go, moving -with the easy arrogance of the ruling race, royally incapable of -discomfiture. - -Uncle Edward followed him to the door, and grimly watched his exit. -Then still more grimly he came tramping back. "And now to pick a bone -with you, my niece!" he said. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - THE DOWNWARD PATH - - -She stood erect, facing him. Her face was very pale, but her eyes were -quite unflinching. There was about her a majesty of demeanour that -might have deterred a less determined man than Uncle Edward. But he -stood upon his own ground and grappled with the situation quite -undismayed. He was moreover very angry. - -"You young hussy!" he said, bringing out his words with immense -emphasis. "How dare you have your lover here? Thought you were safe, -eh? Thought I shouldn't know? Oh, you're like the rest of 'em, crafty -as an eel. What's the meaning of it, eh? What have you got to say for -yourself?" - -She did not attempt to answer him. Where her mother would have been -loud in self-justification, she uttered not a word. Only, after a -moment or two, she turned slowly and sat down at the writing-table, -leaning her chin on her hand as one spent. Even so, there was an -aloofness in her attitude that conveyed to the wrathful old man beside -her an unpleasant sense of being at a disadvantage. - -He stood looking down at her, grievously resentful, striving to select a -weapon sharp enough to pierce her calm. - -"I thought you were to be trusted," he said. "Goodness knows why! You -didn't seem to have any leaven of your mother about you. But I see now -I was wrong. You are just your mother over again. But if you think you -are going to pursue an intrigue with that aristocratic blackguard in my -house, you're very much mistaken. No doubt I'm very old-fashioned and -strait-laced. But there it is. I object. I object strongly. The -man's a liar and a thief and a scoundrel. Don't you know it, eh? -Haven't you found him out yet?" - -He stopped so pointedly for an answer that she could not maintain her -silence longer. She moved a little, turned her head slightly, without -raising her eyes, and spoke. - -"I know him very well. But--forgive me, Uncle Edward!--I can't discuss -him with you. I--I am sorry you thought it necessary to insult him." - -"Insult him!" Uncle Edward's anger boiled afresh. "Didn't I catch the -hound making love to you? Here in my house where I have lived decently -and respectably for over fifty years! Didn't I catch him, I say--he a -well-known profligate and you a married woman? Didn't I actually hear -him trying to tempt you from your husband and your duty? And you were -calmly permitting it. Look here, young woman! I've been too kind to -you. That's the fact of the matter. You've had too much liberty, too -much indulgence, too much of your own way. You married in a hurry -against my judgment. But--by heaven--since you are married, you shall -stick to your bargain! You take a pen now--do you hear?--and a sheet of -paper, and write to your husband this minute, and ask him to come and -join you here! I won't be surety for you any longer. Tell him to come -to-morrow!" - -But Maud only stiffened as she sat making no movement to comply. She -looked like a marble statue of Despair. - -Uncle Edward came a little nearer to her. He was not accustomed to -being set at nought. Most people regarded him as formidable even when -he was in a comparatively genial mood. - -"Are you going to do as I tell you?" he said. - -She glanced up at him momentarily. "I think," she said, "we will wait -till to-morrow." - -He stamped a furious foot. "Will we, indeed, madam! Well, you may wait -as long as you please; but I tell you this: If you don't write that -letter--instantly, I shall go straight to the post-office found the -corner and send your husband a telegram to summon him at once. He will -be here by the morning, if I know him. And then I shall tell him -exactly why I sent for him. So now you can take your choice. Which is -it to be?" - -He had moved her at last. Maud rose to her feet with a suddenness that -was almost suggestive of panic. "You would never do such a thing!" she -said. "You could not be so--so wickedly cruel!" - -He snapped his jaws like an angry terrier. "Oh, that would be wicked, -would it? You have some odd ideas of morals; that's all I can say. But -wicked or cruel, it's what I mean to do. So take your choice, and be -quick about it! For I shan't go back on what I've said. When a woman -starts on the downward path, she usually takes it at a run; and I won't -be responsible. So which is it to be? Your letter or my telegram? Make -up your mind! Which?" - -His manner was almost menacing. She stood facing with an awful sense of -impotence growing at her heart. To summon Jake herself was a proceeding -that she could not for a moment contemplate, but the bare thought of -Uncle Edward's alternative pierced like a poisoned knife. She felt again -that dreadful trapped feeling of former days. The liberty she had -enjoyed of late made it all the more terrible. - -"I can't decide anything just now," she said at last, and she knew that -her voice trembled painfully. "Please--please let us wait a little! -There is really no need to send for Jake. Lord Saltash has gone, and he -will not come back." - -"Don't tell me!" said Uncle Edward truculently. "Even if he doesn't, -how am I to be sure that you won't take it into your head to go to him? -No, my niece, I've heard too much. Why, he'd have had his arm round you -in another second. I know--I saw. If I'd waited another three seconds, -he'd have been kissing you. And not for the first time, I'll be bound." - -The hot colour rushed to Maud's face; she turned sharply aside. - -"Ha! That touches you, does it?" snarled Uncle Edward, with ferocious -triumph. "I guessed as much. Now which is it to be? Are you going to -write that letter?" - -It was hopeless to carry the discussion further. A burning wave of -anger went through her, anger that buoyed her up above despair, -stimulating her to a fierce rebellion. She drew herself to her full -height and faced him with supreme defiance. - -"I will not write that letter!" she said. "I will not be forced into a -false position. If you are tired of me, I will go. I will not stay--in -any case--to be insulted!" - -And with that boldly, with the carriage of an outraged princess, she -swept by him and out of the room, leaving him staring after her in a -fury too great to express itself before the closing of the door. - -Up to her room she went, outwardly calm, inwardly raging. All the old -hot rebellion against destiny had awaked within her. It had died down -of late, soothed into quiescence by the peaceful solitude in which she -had been living. But now it had sprung afresh to quivering life. Her -freedom from bondage had given her new strength. She would not be bound -again hand and foot, and thrust back into the old bitter slavery. It -was too much, too much. She had her life to live. It was hers, not -Jake's. She had a right to do with it as she would. - -With hands that trembled she began to pack. Uncle Edward had made it -impossible for her to stay. If he had not set her feet upon the -downward path, he had sped her upon it with an impetus that drove her -irresistibly. She worked in a fever, not pausing for thought, conscious -but of the one urgent desire to be gone, to escape--she had scarcely -begun to think whither. - -No one came near her during those evening hours. The daylight waned, and -she realized that it was nearing the dinner hour. Then suddenly it came -to her that she could not face her uncle again. She must make some -excuse. - -Her work was done; she rang the bell. - -After a pause Martha came to her. There was a scared look on the -woman's face. She seemed half-afraid to meet Maud's eyes. - -"Did you ring, ma'am?" she enquired. - -"Yes." With an effort Maud made reply. "Is--is my uncle in?" - -"He's just come in and gone upstairs to dress for dinner, ma'am," Martha -told her. - -"Ah!" Maud's heart contracted a little. "He has been out some time?" -she said. - -"Yes, ma'am, a long time. He seems a bit out of temper about -something," Martha's round eyes suddenly conveyed sympathy that shone -out to Maud like a beacon in the darkness. "I shouldn't take much -notice of him, ma'am," she said. "He often says what he don't mean when -he's in one of his tantrums. He'll be better in the morning." - -Again that awful sense of impotence assailed Maud. She leaned her head -against the door-post, closing her eyes for a second. What would the -morning bring forth? The thought turned her sick. - -"Is there anything as I can do, ma'am?" asked Martha. - -"Yes." Abruptly Maud pulled herself together. A sudden resolution had -sprung up within her. She could not face another storm such as that -through which she had just come. Above all she could not face the -morrow and its possibilities in this house. She turned back into the -room, and took half a sovereign from the table. "Martha," she said, "I -have packed everything up, and I am going away. I want you, please, to -call a cab now, at once, to take me away before my uncle comes -downstairs. I will write him a note while you are gone. Please, -please, Martha, be as quick as you can!" - -The sympathy in Martha's eyes became a sort of tragic friendliness. "I -knew as you wouldn't stay, ma'am," she said, "not after the way he -hollered at you. I wouldn't myself in your place, ma'am; no, that I -wouldn't. But you see, I've been with him so long. I don't mind his -rough ways. I'll go at once, and thank you kindly, ma'am. It won't take -me five minutes. But, mind you, I think he'll be sorry to lose you." - -"I can't help that," Maud made answer. "It is quite impossible for me -to stay. He will know why. But I will write him a note all the same." - -And when Martha had gone, she sat down and scribbled two notes. - -The first she addressed to her uncle: - -"DEAR UNCLE EDWARD, - -"I do not think you will be greatly surprised at my leaving you. After -what has passed, I could not stay. I am very sorry for what has -happened, but I suppose it had to be. I wish I could thank you for all -your kindness to me, but I know this is not the time. So I will only -say good-bye. - -"Yours, - "MAUD." - -The second note consisted of one sentence only, "I am going to my -mother. Maud." And when she had written it she picked up a tiny packet -of tissue-paper that lay beside her and dropped it into the envelope -with the note. She addressed the envelope to Lord Saltash, Burchester -Castle, and later she sealed and registered it, stopping at a -post-office to send it on its way. She believed it would reach its -destination almost as soon as he did. And that packet--that tiny object -wrapped in tissue-paper--would convey its own message. No further words -were needed. - -She herself went for the night to a small hotel in a back-street that -was not far from her uncle's house. There would be a train in the early -morning. She would not travel by night. Something held her back, some -instinct she did not attempt to fathom. But she believed that Charlie -would travel by the night-train, and she did not want to see him again -until he had received that packet. Afterwards--well, the afterwards -would rest with him. - -Her sleep was fitful and troubled that night, broken repeatedly by the -persistent chime of a church-clock. Towards morning she slept and -dreamed again that strangely haunting dream of the flower-decked altar -and the red, shining lamp above. For a space she held herself aloof -from the dream, refusing to yield to it. But at length it seemed to her -that someone came and took her hand, drawing her forward, and she had no -choice. - -Straight into the wondrous glow she went, and presently she knelt before -those flowers of dazzling purity. The quiet hand still held hers in a -calm and comforting grasp. She felt that she would have been frightened -but for that sustaining hold. - -And then suddenly she saw that the candles also were burning upon the -altar, knew that she was kneeling there with Jake, heard a voice above -their heads very low and clear that seemed to be speaking to their -hearts:--"Those whom God hath joined together, let no man put asunder." -... - -And turning she found Jake's eyes upon her, alight with adoration.... - -She awoke with a gasping cry to a seething, passionate regret. Because -in those first wild moments she knew with an awful certainty that her -feet were set upon the downward path, and she could never turn back -again. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - THE REVELATION - - -The autumn dusk was falling as the Fairharbour train crawled at length -into the station. A sea-fog hung clammily along the shore, and a smell -of burning weeds was in the air. - -Maud shivered with cold and weariness as she descended to the platform. -It had been a long, long journey. Her whole body ached with fatigue. - -There were not many travellers, and they had all disappeared before she -had collected her luggage and made her way out into the dank chill of -the station-yard where a rickety cab stood waiting. - -She shivered afresh as she got into it. The dampness and the cold -seemed to penetrate to her very bones. She sat huddled in a corner. - -"Where to, miss?" The porter thrust a cheery face in upon her, and, -albeit she was veiled, she shrank back with an instinctive desire to -avoid recognition. - -"The Anchor Hotel," she said, through teeth that chattered in spite of -her. - -She heard him give the order, and in a moment the ramshackle conveyance -was on its way. They clattered forth over the stones into the clinging -billows of mist. - -The cold caught and pierced her anew as they neared the dreary front. -She heard the muffled roar of the sea splashing dully against the wall. -The mist became a wet drizzle beating in through the window. She tried -to close it, but the strap was broken. She could only draw her wrap -more closely about her. - -The cab horse stumbled, and was dragged up by his driver with a curse. -They were nearing the Anchor Hotel. She wished she had prepared her -mother for her advent. She had not dared to do so in case--just in -case--it should come to Jake's knowledge, though she believed that Jake -must be well on his way to Liverpool by now, if he had not already -arrived there. It was possible that he had not been able to leave at a -moment's notice, and she had not dared to take the chance of any rumour -of her coming reaching him. But now that she was so nearly at the end of -her journey, she wished earnestly that her mother were expecting her. -The thought of meeting Giles Sheppard, asking his hospitality, was -hateful to her. - -It would not be for more than that one night. Of that she was -convinced. Charlie would be swift to answer her summons, if indeed he -had returned to the Castle. But he was so erratic in all his ways that -she had some doubt on this point. If he had not returned--! But she -could not think of that possibility. She turned from it with a sick -foreboding. Surely Fate could not play her so hideous a trick! - -They lumbered on. - -Suddenly the light from the swinging lamp that hung in the porch of "The -Anchor" burst across their path. The horse stumbled again, recovered -itself, jolted on a few yards, stopped. They had arrived. - -Maud gathered her energies for one supreme effort though she felt almost -too stiff with cold to move. The cabman shambled down and opened the -door. - -"No one about seemin'ly," he remarked. - -She controlled her quivering nerves. "Perhaps you will get down my -trunk," she said. "You can leave it in the porch." - -The man grumbled to himself, but proceeded to comply, she standing on -the step to watch him. - -The mist was beating in from the sea. Her face was wet with it. And -yet her dread of entering that house was such that she could hardly -bring herself to open the swing door, debating with herself if even then -she might not run up the hill to the house in which they had lodged a -year before--only a year before--and obtain shelter for the night there. - -The darkness and the rain deterred her. Her courage seemed to have -quite left her. In the end she turned with a species of dreary -desperation and pushed back the heavy door. - -The entrance-hall was empty, vaguely lit by one flaring gas-jet round -which the fog-wreaths curled and drifted in the draught, cold as a -vault, and smelling of stale tobacco-smoke. The place looked bare and -poverty-stricken, almost squalid. The rugs were gone from the floor, -the pictures from the walls. - -The door swung closed behind her, and she felt as if she stood inside a -prison. The office-window was shut, and no sound came from any quarter. -Only through the desolate silence there came the sullen thump of the sea -against the wall, like the waning struggle of a giant grown impotent -with long and fruitless striving. - -The utter solitude of the place began to possess her like an evil dream. -She stood as one under a spell, afraid to move. And then, quite -suddenly, she heard a step. - -The impulse came to her then to flee, but she did not obey it. She -stood stiffly waiting. Even if it were Giles Sheppard himself, she -would meet him before she went out into the dripping dark outside. - -It was not Giles Sheppard. A man in a tweed suit and black gaiters, -square-shouldered, rather short than tall,--a man of bull-dog -strength--came suddenly upon her from the interior of the house. She -heard the jingle of spurs upon the stones of the hall, caught one glance -of a sunburnt, dominant face and hair that shone like burnished copper -in the light; and then she was tottering blindly backwards, groping, -groping for the door by which she might escape. - -He came to her ere she could open it, and in a moment she became rigid, -as one fascinated into passivity. He took her ice-cold hands and held -them. - -"Why, Maud! Maud!" he said, in the tone of one who would comfort a -child. - -A great shiver went through her at his touch; but she stood speechless. -His face swam before her shrinking vision. She felt sick and faint. - -"Snakes!" he said. "You're perished with cold. Say, why didn't you -tell me you were coming?" Then, as still she could not speak: "Come -along into the office! There's no one there; and I'll soon have a fire -for you. You lean on me, my girl! It'll be all right." - -His arm went round her; he supported her strongly. The warmth of his -body sent a faint glow through her. Almost without knowing it, she -leaned upon him. - -He took her into the deserted office, put her into a chair by the empty -fireplace, lighted the gas, then knelt to kindle the fire. The wood was -damp; he coaxed it to burn, blowing at the unwilling flame, his head in -the smoke. - -"Say, that's better," he said softly at length. "Now I'm going to give -you something you'll hate, but I reckon you'll take it to please me. -Won't you?" - -He still knelt beside her, but there was no hint of authority, no -possessiveness, in his bearing. Rather there was about him a curious -something that was almost like humility. - -She watched him dumbly as he pulled a small glass flask out of his -pocket and withdrew the cork. He turned to her as he did it, and for an -instant she met his eyes. The old hot glow was wholly gone from them. -She missed it with an odd sense of shock. Only kindness shone out at -her; only friendliness was in the clasp of the hand he laid on hers. - -"You'll take it?" he said, in his voice of soft persuasion, "It's raw -spirit; but it's not going to do you any harm. Just a drop, and then -I'll feel easier about you! There now, if that's not real good of you!" - -He was pressing it gently upon her; and she could not refuse. She took -the flask from him and drank a burning drain. - -"Has it gone?" said Jake. - -She nodded silently, feeling the glow of the spirit spreading through -her veins and the deadly coldness at her heart giving place to it. - -He smiled upon her, his pleasant, sudden smile, and took the flask back -into his own keeping. Then he bent again to the fire, blowing at it -persistently, patiently, till it shot up into a blaze. - -She watched him as one in a dream--a dream from which all nightmare -horror had been magically banished. This--this was the old Jake to whom -she had once turned in trouble, in whose arms she had sobbed out her -misery and despair. This was Jake the friend into whose keeping she had -given her life. - -He straightened himself again, coughing a little. She caught again the -gleam of the red-brown eyes, seeking hers. - -"Better now?" he asked her. - -She bent her head. "Yes, I am all right now. You--you--I didn't expect -to see you here." - -"Guess it was a mutual surprise," said Jake. "What brought you anyway?" - -Her heart gave a sudden quick throb of dismay. - -Actually she had forgotten the desperate resolution that had urged her -for so long. She turned her face quickly from him. "I--came--to--to -see my mother," she faltered. - -He raised his brows momentarily. "She wasn't expecting you, sure," he -commented. - -"No," she felt her cheeks burning, and strove still further to avoid his -look. "No. It--it was a--surprise visit." - -There fell a brief silence upon her words, and while it lasted, she sat -in tense suspense, waiting--waiting for him to pounce upon her secret -and drag it to the light. She dared not look at him kneeling there -beside her, dared not meet the awful scrutiny of those lynx-eyes. Such -was her agitation that she scarcely dared even to breathe. - -And then an amazing thing happened. Jake's hand was suddenly laid upon -her knee, pressing it reassuringly. "Well," he said in his casual drawl, -"I reckon you've come in the nick of time so far as your mother is -concerned. Your amiable step-father has cleared out bag and baggage, and -left her to face the music. He pawned everything he could lay his dirty -hands on first, and the place is empty except for the old ostler who is -serving behind the bar till further orders." - -"Oh Jake!" Startled, Maud turned back to him. "And what is my mother -doing?" - -There was a faintly humorous twist about Jake's lips as he made reply. -"Your mother has gone to bed in hysterics. I can't get out of her what -exactly she means to do. P'raps you will be more successful. I came -down this morning as soon as I got the news of Sheppard's departure, and -tried to persuade her to come along to the Stables; but she wouldn't -hear of it. She's got some idea at the back of her mind, I gather; or -maybe the Stables aren't aristocratic enough. Anyway, there was no -moving her. I've been up at Tattersall's all day. Only got back half an -hour ago. I thought I'd look in again here, and see how things were -going before I went home. But they haven't moved any since this -morning, and she is still in bed with hysterics." - -He had not been home all day; he had received no message. The thought -darted through Maud with a suddenness that nearly made her gasp with -relief. He did not know of Uncle Edward's summons. And then she -remembered that it must be awaiting him, and her heart sank again. - -"You're shivering still," said Jake gently. - -"It's nothing," she made answer. "It's nothing." And then desperately: -"You--you didn't get--a telegram from Uncle Edward--last night?" - -"I?" said Jake. "No. What should he wire to me for?" - -She hesitated a second, then feverishly faced the danger that menaced -her. "You--I expect you will find a message waiting for you. We--we -had a disagreement yesterday. That's why I came away." - -Jake's brows met abruptly. "Hasn't he been treating you properly?" - -"Oh, it's not that. I--I can't tell you what it was. But--he said he -should wire to you--to go to Liverpool." - -Maud's hands clasped each other very tightly. She was striving with all -her strength for composure. But she could not bring herself to look him -in the face. - -"And so you came away," Jake said slowly. - -She nodded, swallowing down her agitation. "I didn't want to meet -you--like that. I didn't know what was in the telegram." - -Jake's fingers patted her knee gently. "And so you came back here for -refuge! All right, my girl! You needn't be afraid. Uncle Edward may -go to blazes. I shan't read that telegram." - -He stooped with the words, picked up a fragment of burning stick that -had fallen at her feet, and tossed it back into the flames. - -Maud uttered a sharp exclamation. "Jake! You'll be burnt!" - -He looked up at her with a smile. "I guess not," he said. "And now that -that matter is disposed of, you'll maybe like to go and see your -mother." - -She met his eyes with a feeling that she could do no less. "You're very -good," she said, with an effort. - -His smile broadened. "Then it's the cheapest form of goodness I know," -he said. "If your Uncle Edward were a little younger, I'd give myself -the pleasure of accepting his invitation just for the sake of -administering the kicking he deserves. However, we won't waste time -discussing him. Are you going to spend the night here along with your -mother?" - -He seemed bent upon making things easy for her. His attitude amazed -her. She kept asking herself again and again if this could be the man -from whom she had fled in bitterness of spirit all those weeks ago. - -She hesitated to answer his question. She was painfully uncertain of -the ground beneath her feet. Almost she expected it to cleave asunder -at any moment and reveal the raging fires that once had scorched her -soul. - -But Jake did not suffer her to remain in suspense. Very quietly he -filled in her hesitation. "Maybe you'd sooner stay here," he said, in -his soft, rather sing-song voice. "It's up to you to decide. Guess I -shan't interfere any with your movements." - -His one hand still lay on her knee. It pressed upon her a little as -though seeking to convey something that she was slow to grasp. - -Her doubt subsided under the steady touch. She suddenly knew beyond all -questioning that she stood on solid ground. Yet it was not without -difficulty that she answered him. "I think--perhaps--for to-night--I -will stay with her." - -Jake nodded with his face to the flames. "It's up to you," he said -again. - -She looked at his bent head, conscious of a new distress. How was she -going to repay him for this his goodness to her? He was trusting her -blindly. He had refused to let his eyes be opened. For she knew he -would keep his word about that telegram. Jake always kept his word. - -Her distress grew, became almost unbearable. She saw herself in a new -and horrible light, and shrank in anguish of soul from the revelation. -It was as if upon that downward path she had suddenly caught a glimpse -of the precipice at the end, the cruel rocks, the dreadful fall, the -black, seething whirlpool below. And her whole being revolted. All -that was pure in her made swift outcry. - -If Jake--Jake--had climbed back to the old high ground, surely she could -do the same! Surely she could do no less. He trusted her--he trusted -her! How could she go on? - -The wild tempest of feeling rushed through her, and passed. She was -left very cold, striving desperately to suppress a fit of shuddering -that threatened to overwhelm her. - -Jake was not looking at her. He seemed unaware of her agitation. After -a moment he took his hand away, and rose. - -He began to feel in his pockets, produced his clay pipe and -tobacco-pouch; then suddenly paused. "Do you mind if I light up? I'm -just going." - -"Oh, please do!" she said. - -He began to fill the pipe with minute care. "Don't let your mother take -too much out of you!" he said. "Have a meal and turn in as early as you -can! Guess you're needing a good rest." - -She leaned her head on her hand. "Yes. I am tired." - -Jake was silent again for a space. Finally he put the pipe into his -mouth and shook the tobacco back into his pouch. Then in a curiously -hesitating voice, he spoke. "Say,--Maud!" - -She gave a start, and raised her head. He was looking down at her with -a faint smile in his eyes, a smile that struck her as being whimsical -and yet curiously wistful also. - -"I just want to tell you, my girl," he said, "that you're not to be -scared of me any more. Reckon you've had a hell of a time all your -life, but it's to come to an end right now. For the future, you do the -asking and I the giving. You're boss, and don't you forget it! I'm your -man, not your master, and I'll behave accordingly. Guess I'll even lie -down and let you kick me if it'll make you happy any." - -Maud was gazing at him in open amazement long before he had finished his -astounding speech. The slow utterance, half-sad, half-humorous, was -spoken with the full weight of the man's strength of purpose. Every -word came with the steady force of unwavering resolution. There was a -touch of the superb about him even with that unlighted pipe between his -teeth. And every word seemed to pierce her with a deeper pain, pain -that was well-nigh unendurable. - -As he uttered the last deliberate sentence, she rose quickly with a -gesture of protest. She could bear no more. - -"Jake, you--you--you hurt me!" she stammered incoherently. - -He put out a hand to her. "No--no!" he said. "That was not my -intention." - -It was almost as though he pleaded with her for some species of -clemency. She was sure she read entreaty in the red-brown eyes. But -she could not lay her hand in his. She could not--she could not! She -stood before him panting, speechless, shaken to the very foundations of -her being. - -His hand fell. "I just want you to be happy, my girl, that's all," he -said gently; "happy after your own notions of happiness. Maybe there -ain't room for me in the general scheme of things. If that's so,--I -reckon I'll stay outside." - -He turned aside with the words and struck a match to kindle his pipe -with the air of a man who has said his say. Then while she still watched -him, he puffed a great cloud of smoke into the air, straightened -himself, and made her an odd, clumsy bow. - -"I'm going now. So long!" he said. - -And so, without further parley, he left her, striding away in his -square, purposeful fashion without a backward glance. - -Only when he was gone did it flash upon her that this--this--was her -dream come true. All unknowing, wholly without intention, he had opened -her eyes. And she knew that he loved her--he loved her! - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - THE LAST CHANCE - - -"It's a cruel world," complained Mrs. Sheppard. "Nothing ever goes -right, and no one ever thinks of anybody but themselves." She wiped her -eyes pathetically. "I'm sure I've always tried to consider others. And -this is the result. In my hour of need I am forsaken by everybody." - -"It's no good fretting," Maud said very wearily. "We must think what is -best to be done." - -She realized that her mother was in her most unreasonable mood, and she -felt herself powerless to cope with it. Yet the situation had to be -faced, and with a heavy heart she faced it. - -"My dear, I've thought and thought till my brain refuses to work," said -Mrs. Sheppard plaintively. "What is the good of it? You know as well -as I that if Charlie refuses to help, all hope is gone. And you say he -has refused." - -"Yes." Maud was stooping over the kettle that she was boiling in her -mother's bedroom. "He has refused." - -"Unconditionally?" Mrs. Sheppard sent a sudden keen glance across at -the slim, drooping figure and noted the weariness of its pose. "Maud, -tell me! Unconditionally?" - -Maud remained bent. "I am not going to accept his conditions," she -said, after a moment. - -"Then he made conditions?" The question came sharp and querulous from -the bed. - -"One condition." Maud bent a little lower. - -"What was it? My child, you must tell me. I have a right to know." -Mrs. Sheppard raised herself to a sitting position. "What was this -condition?" - -Maud did not turn. "What does it matter what it was as I am not going -to accept it," she said. - -"You have refused?" - -"I am going to refuse." There was utter weariness in her voice. She -spoke as one to whom nothing mattered any more. - -"Maud! Then you haven't actually refused him yet?" Mrs. Sheppard -suddenly flung out her arms. "Maud--darling, come and tell me all about -it!" she urged. "There is something behind that you haven't told me yet. -Come here, dearest! Come to me!" - -Maud turned an unwilling face over her shoulder. "I am too tired -to-night, Mother," she said. "Besides, there is really nothing to tell. -Charlie made me a certain proposal which--which I thought for a little -that I might accept. I now realize that I can't and--and--" a faint -quiver of vehemence crept into her voice,--"I want to forget that I ever -thought I could. Please let me forget!" - -"My dear child! Do you mean that he made you a proposal of marriage?" -The eagerness of Mrs. Sheppard's query was scarcely veiled. Her eyes -had the look of one in search of treasure. - -"Yes; just that." The emotion had gone out of Maud's voice again. It -sounded flat and mechanical. She leaned her arm upon the mantelpiece -for support. "I ought not to have suffered it. I was to blame more -than he. He has always been--that sort. I--haven't." - -"But, my dear, you have always loved each other. Why should either of -you be to blame? The fault was certainly yours in the first place for -sending him away long ago; but now--now----" - -"Now I am married to another man," Maud said. - -Mrs. Sheppard clapped her hands together in a sudden access of -impatience. "A man for whom you have not the smallest respect or -affection! A man of intemperate habits who took advantage of a weak -moment to marry you, who has made you utterly miserable, and deserves -nothing from you but the utmost contempt! My dear Maud, I always -thought that you were proud and fastidious. Didn't Charlie always call -you his queen rose? How can you--how can you--regard that farcical -marriage of yours as binding? How can you contemplate ruining your own -life and Charlie's also now that another chance has been given you? It -is sheer wilful folly. It is madness. Or is it that you are -just--afraid?" - -Maud shook her head. "I don't suppose you would ever really understand, -Mother," she said. "Anyhow I don't know how to explain. But I can't do -it--now. I thought I could. I came back because I thought I could. But -now I am here--now I have seen Jake--I find I can't." - -"That is because you are afraid," declared Mrs. Sheppard, "He has -terrorized you. But, oh, my dear, do try to break away from that! Do -think of yourself--and of Charlie who has loved you all these years! -One great effort--only one--and you will be free from this horrible, -unnatural bond. I know that Charlie will be true to you. You are the -one woman so far as he is concerned. And he--he is the one man, dear, -isn't he? You can't--surely you can't--bear to disappoint him now! -Think of the years to come! Think of the life-happiness waiting for you -if you only muster the strength now to grasp it! Maud, my darling, my -own girlie, can't you be brave just this once when so much hangs upon -it? He will take you away in his yacht, and you will be all in all to -each other. You will find all the good things you have missed till now; -and this dreadful year will fade away like a dream. Oh, darling, surely -you will make this one great effort to gain so much! The chance will -never come again to you. It is the one chance of your life,--the last. -How can you bear to throw it away?" - -"And what of Jake?" Maud spoke the words as though uttering her thought -aloud. She was gazing downwards at the steaming kettle and the red-hot -glow of the fire. - -"Jake!" Mrs. Sheppard's reply was instant and contemptuous. "He will -marry a girl in his own station who will satisfy all his desires. You -can't honestly imagine that you have done that, that he regards his -marriage with you as a success! He may be annoyed at your preference, -but he will be as glad as you are to be rid of his bargain. It will be -the greatest kindness you can do him--if you want to be kind. You know -you hate him from the bottom of your heart." - -"Mother! You're wrong!" Sharply--as though stung to action--Maud -turned. "I don't hate Jake. He--he is too good a man--too upright a -man--to hate. It is true I haven't been happy with him, but that has -not been his fault. Our ideas of happiness are not the same, that's -all." - -Mrs. Sheppard stared in momentary discomfiture at this sudden display of -strength. She had not expected serious resistance in this quarter. But -she was quick to rally her forces. - -"Oh, I don't blame him entirely," she said. "As you say, you are -utterly unsuited to each other. But it is sheer nonsense to call him a -good man. I know that he is often the worse for drink. I have seen him -myself flogging his horses down on the beach as no man in his sober -senses would dream of doing. He is an utter brute at heart. There is -no getting away from that fact. He may not be a wholly bad man. I have -not said that he is. But he is a man of violent impulses. He knows -nothing of the refinements of life. He is a brute." - -Mrs. Sheppard paused. Maud was standing mute and motionless with tragic -eyes fixed before her. - -After a moment or two to give her words time to sink in, Mrs. Sheppard -continued on a note of pathos. - -"You may say to me that I have made exactly the same mistake myself. -But then, I did it for you children. And it was not the whole of my -life that I had to offer. But you,--you are young. Your good time is -yet to come. And think, dear, think how much depends upon you! If -Charlie dies unmarried, there will be no one to succeed him. He is the -last of the Burchesters. And if he doesn't marry you, I am sure he will -never marry any other woman. He loves you so devotedly. Through all -his peccadilloes, he has always remembered you, come back to you. Are -you going to let him be lonely always because of his love for you? He -has laid the greatest gift in the world at your feet, dear. Oh, grasp -it while you can! Don't let the whole of his manhood, your womanhood, -be one long and fruitless regret!" - -It was the climax of her pleading. The tears were running down her face -as she reached it, and she did not check them too readily though she -knew that she had made an impression. Victory would not come at once, -she fully realized. The stony immobility of Maud's attitude told her -that. But she had laid her plans with craft. She believed that by the -exercise of extreme patience victory might ultimately be achieved. - -"There, darling! You're very tired," she said, as she slowly dried her -eyes; "much too tired to see anything in its proper light to-night. You -must go to bed and sleep. You will see things much more clearly in the -morning. And shall I tell you a secret?" She smiled, a wistful, loving -smile. "Charlie will be at the Castle to-morrow afternoon." - -"How do you know, Mother?" Maud spoke quickly as one suddenly awakened. - -"How do I know? But everyone knows," Mrs. Sheppard answered vaguely. -"The yacht is in the harbour, and they are getting her ready for a trip. -Darling, the kettle is boiling at last. Mind how you take it off! Oh -dear, I'm very tired. I hope I shan't end my days in the workhouse. So -trying to have to make one's bed every day. Good night, darling! No -tea for me, thank you. I haven't the heart to drink it. There's a bed -made up in the room next to this. I hope you will find it comfortable. -Good night, dear! Good night!" - -The words went into a deep sigh. Mrs. Sheppard sank down upon her -pillow. And Maud turned with a set face, and prepared to leave her for -the night. - -Yes, her mother's words had made an impression upon her. They had -voiced all the doubt and turmoil in her own sad heart. But they had not -blotted out that vision of the precipice, the rocks, and the black, -black whirlpool that awaited her at the end of the downward path. - -Neither had they wholly taken from her the memory of a man's eyes, -straight and honest and strangely appealing, that had looked into hers -only a couple of hours before. - -Above her mother's warnings, above all the trouble and the tumult of her -soul, she heard a voice within, clear, insistent, indomitable: "Love is -only gained by love. We must pour out all we have to win it, purge our -hearts of all selfish desire, sanctify ourselves by the complete -renunciation of self, before the perfect gift can be ours." - -The perfect gift! The perfect gift! She had almost ceased to believe -in it. But that night she dreamed that she had it in her grasp. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - THE WHIRLPOOL - - -"Well, Billings, you're looking as cadaverously blooming as ever. How -do you do it, man? Did someone give you an over-dose of respectability -in your youth?" - -Saltash leaned back in his chair smiling up at his wry-faced servitor -with insolent humour. - -Billings, the decorous, betrayed not the smallest sign of surprise or -resentment. It was said of him that when Saltash had once in a fit of -anger flung a wine-glass at his head, he had knelt and collected the -fragments and mopped up the wine before he had dreamed of retiring to -attend to the cut on his face that the glass had inflicted. - -On the present occasion he made response with the utmost gravity. "I -can't say, my lord. Shall I light the fire, my lord?" - -"Oh yes, it's a filthy day, typical of a filthy climate. Yes, light the -fire, and pull down the blinds, and let's be comfortable!" - -"It won't be dark yet, my lord," observed Billings, with a glance at the -clock. - -Saltash's eyes went in the same direction. It was not quite three -o'clock. "What of that, good Billings? I please myself," he said. "By -the way, you might take coffee up to the music-room. Leave it to brew -up there! And when Mrs. Bolton calls tell her I'm out, but I shall be -back in a very short time! Ask her to wait in the music-room, and pour -her out some coffee! Light the red lamp by the piano, but leave the -rest! Is that quite clear, Billings?" - -"Quite clear, my lord." - -Billings was on his knees before the fire. Saltash leaned forward in -his chair. - -"Be sure you get her to have some coffee, Billings!" he said. "Tell her -I specially recommend it." - -"Very good, my lord." Billings spoke with his head nearly touching the -logs of wood he was seeking to kindle. "I quite understand, my lord." - -Saltash got to his feet. "I'll give you a gold watch if you succeed, -Billings," he said. - -"You're very good, my lord," said Billings. - -Saltash wandered down the hall. He had a cigarette between his lips, -but he was not smoking. He reached the marble statue near the grand -staircase and pressed a switch that flooded it with light. Then he -stood before it, silent and intent. White and wonderful the anguished -figure shone, but it was rather a figure of death than life. Its purity -was almost dazzling. Its very agony was unearthly. - -Saltash frowned abruptly and switched off the light. Then for a space he -stood in the gloom, staring at the vague outline. - -Billings came up behind him soft-footed, unobtrusive. "The rose light, -my lord, was placed on the other side according to your lordship's -orders," he said deferentially, and passed on as if he had not spoken. - -Saltash glanced over his shoulder momentarily, and resumed his silent -contemplation of the figure in the shadows. - -Several seconds passed. Then very suddenly he moved again, bent swiftly -and pressed another switch. In a moment the figure was fully visible -again, but no longer did it dazzle the eyes with its whiteness. A soft -rose radiance surrounded it. It glowed into life, pulsing, palpitating -flesh and blood. - -And the man's eyes suddenly kindled as they passed over the naked, -straining form. "I have you now, my Captured Angel," he murmured. - -He stood and feasted upon the vision. Once he stretched a hand to touch -the faultless curve of the breast, but checked himself with an odd, -flickering smile as though he did reverence whimsically to a sacred -element in which he had no faith. The agonized shame of the thing, -poignant, arresting, though it was, seemed wholly to pass him by. His -queer, glancing eyes saw only the unveiled voluptuousness of the form, -the perfect contour of the limbs, the exquisite moulding of each full -and gracious line. He dwelt upon them all with the look of an epicure. -He moved again at length, drew near to the statue, reached a hand to the -dark panelling of the recess behind. It slipped inwards noiselessly, -disclosing a narrow doorway. In a moment he had passed through, and the -great hall was empty; empty save for that figure of tragic womanhood, -rose-lighted, piteously alive, standing out against the shadows. - -It was nearly half an hour later that an electric bell sounded through -the silence, and Billings, the respectable, came noiselessly through the -hall. He swung the great door open with a well-bred flourish. - -A woman's figure clad in a streaming waterproof stood on the step, and -in a low voice asked for Lord Saltash. Billings stood back with a deep -bow. "Will you walk in, madam?" - -She entered and stood on the mat. He took her umbrella and set it -aside. - -"Will you permit me to remove your waterproof, madam?" he suggested. - -She seemed to hesitate, but in a moment yielded. "But I can only stay a -few moments," she said. "Please tell him so!" - -"Quite so, madam!" Billings was deftly removing the wet garment. "Up -in the music-room, if you please, madam." - -She suffered his ministrations in silence; only as he turned to lead the -way she shivered suddenly and uncontrollably. - -She followed him up the dim hall. They approached the rose-lit statue. -Her eyes were drawn to it. She stopped as though involuntarily, stopped -and caught her breath as if in sudden surprise or dismay. Then quickly -she passed on. - -They ascended the grand staircase in solemn procession, and reached the -music-room door. - -Again Billings stood back for her to enter, but when she had done so, he -closed the door, remaining within. - -The great room was dim and shadowy, heavy with some mysterious Eastern -fragrance that hung in the air like incense. It was lighted by two red -fires that burned without flame and a red-shaded lamp that shed a -mysterious arc of light far away by the piano. - -There was a small table by the further fire, and on this a silver -coffee-pot hissed over a spirit-lamp. A low divan--so low that it -looked a mere pile of luxurious cushions--stood invitingly close. -Billings deferentially led the way thither. - -"If you will be pleased to take a seat, madam," he said. "His lordship -will not keep you waiting long." - -"Is he out?" Maud asked quickly. - -"He has been out, madam. He came in wet through and is changing. He -begged very particularly that you would drink a cup of coffee while you -awaited him." - -He indicated the divan, but Maud remained on her feet. The atmosphere of -the place disturbed her. It seemed to be charged with subtleties that -baffled her, making her vaguely uneasy. - -She had come in answer to a message accompanying a great bunch of -violets that had reached her that morning. She had not wanted to come; -but for this once it seemed imperative that she should meet him face to -face, and explain that which she felt no written words could ever -express. She had sent him her rash summons, and he had replied by that -bunch of violets and the request that she would come to him since he did -not wish to risk interruption from "_madame la mere_." On this point -she had been fully in accord with him, and she had sent back word that -she would come in the afternoon, just to speak with him for a few -minutes. She had hoped that he would gather from that that since the -sending of her summons she had repented of her madness. It would not be -an easy interview, she was sure; but she was not afraid of Charlie. She -hated the thought of hurting him all the more because she did not fear -him. He would let her go; oh yes, he would let her go. He had never -sought to hold her against her will. But that very fact would make the -parting the more bitter. His half-whimsical chivalry was somehow harder -to face than any fury of indignation. He had hurt her at their last -interview, hurt and disappointed her. But yet the man's fascination -overpowered all thought of his shortcomings. Already she had almost -forgotten them. - -She stood before the fire, absently watching the servant as he busied -himself over the coffee, till the aromatic scent of it suddenly brought -her out of her reverie. - -"Oh, thank you," she said. "I don't think I will have any. I have only -come for five minutes' talk with Lord Saltash." - -"His lordship particularly desired that you would take a cup, madam," -the man replied. "It is a very special Egyptian brew." He turned round -with a small silver cup on a salver which he decorously presented. "It -is supposed to be particularly pleasing to a lady's palate, madam," he -said. - -She did not want the coffee, but it seemed ungracious to refuse it. She -took the cup and set it on the mantelpiece. - -"It should be drunk very hot, madam," said Billings persuasively. "Will -you be so very kind, madam, as to taste it, and tell me if it is to your -liking?" - -She hesitated momentarily, but it was too small a matter to refuse. She -took the cup by its slender handle and put it to her lips. Instantly it -was as if a warm current of life went through her, a fine, golden thread -of delight. - -She looked at Billings and smiled. "It is--delicious," she said. - -Billings looked gratified. "The second cup is generally considered even -better than the first, madam," he said. - -"Oh, I won't take more than one, thank you," she said. - -And Billings retired, closing the door soundlessly behind him. - -Maud lifted the cup again to her lips. Its fragrance pervaded all her -senses. It was unlike anything she knew, and yet in some subtle fashion -it made her think of palms and orange-groves, and the strong sunshine of -the East. It presented before her mind a vivid picture of beauties that -she had never seen. She drank again; and again that strange sense of -dawning bliss came to her. It was like the coming of a tropic morning -after a long, black night. Her anxiety was magically lifted from her; a -sensation of pure gladness, of warmth of soul and body began to possess -her. It was like drinking in the pure essence of sunshine. All things -seemed easy, all difficulties were smoothed away. She was sure that -Charlie would understand and be content. Had he not promised to be to -her whatever she wished? - -She drained the cup, and set it down. It seemed a little strange to her -that her hand should be trembling as she did so; for all her misgivings -had vanished. She had stepped as it were into a garden of delight. A -strange, unearthly happiness was hers. It was as if her life had been -suddenly and mysteriously filled to the brim with all that she could -desire. - -The only thing lacking was music. She looked across at the grand piano -lighted with that one red lamp, and a haunting memory came to her--came -to her. She saw the altar and the glow of the undying flame before it; -but the flowers--the white lilies of purity--where were they? - -A vague distress came to her, filtering as it were through locked -senses, dispelling the golden rapture, dimming her dream. She moved -over the polished floor, drawn by that red arc of light. She reached -the piano. She stood before it. And then her dream changed. - -The vision of the altar faded, faded. She slipped down before the -gleaming keys. She struck a soft, sweet chord. And with it the former -magic took her. The sun and the orange-groves were hers again, and a -blue, blue gleam of sea came into the picture like the last touch of -romance into a fairy-tale. As one beneath a spell she sat and wove her -vision into such music as she had never contemplated before.... - -As of old, she never knew quite when he came to her. She only realized -very suddenly that he was there. His dark face gleamed down at her in -the lamplight. His odd eyes sent a mocking invitation into hers. - -Again her vision was swept away. Her hands fell from the piano, and -were caught in the same instant into his. - -"Oh, Charlie!" she gasped incoherently. - -He drew her close, laughing at her with half-teasing tenderness. "Oh, -Maud!" he said. "O queen of all the roses!" - -But she hung back from him. It was almost as if something dragged her -back. "I--I have something to say to you," she faltered confusedly. "I -came to say it. What was it? Oh, what was it?" - -His swarthy face was bending nearer, nearer. She saw the humorous lift -of his black brows. "You have said it," he told her softly. "There is -nothing left to say. There will never again be any need for words -between us two." - -He laughed at her again with a kind of kingly indulgence. His arms went -round her, pressing her to him, ignoring her last, quivering effort to -resist. His lips suddenly found her own. - -And then it was that her eyes were opened, and her memory came back. In -a flash of anguished understanding she was brought face to face with the -realities of life. She knew that she had been enmeshed in a dream of -evil delight, drawn unaccountably, by some hidden, devilish strategy to -the very edge of that precipice that she had striven so desperately to -avoid. - -In that moment she would have torn herself free, but her strength was -gone. Her body felt leaden and powerless; her throat too numb to utter -any protest. Her visions had all fallen away from her, but she thought -she heard the roar of the whirlpool below. And through all she was -madly conscious of the lips that pressed her own, the arms that drew her -closer, always closer, to the gulf. - -She thought that her senses were leaving her, so utterly helpless had -she become. An awful cloud seemed to be hanging over her,--slowly, -slowly descending. Faintly she tried to pray for deliverance, but his -lips stilled the prayer. Against her will, as one horribly compelled, -she knew that she returned his kiss. - -And then she was lying on the low divan with Charlie beside her, holding -her, calling her his queen, his captured angel--his wife. - -She did not know exactly what happened afterwards, for a great darkness -took her. She only knew that she was suddenly lifted and borne away. -She only heard the rush of the whirlpool as it closed over her head. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - THE OUTER DARKNESS - - -Something was waking her. Someone seemed to be knocking on the outer -door of her brain. She came back to consciousness as one returning from -a far, far journey that yet had occupied but a very brief space of time. -An inner sense of urgency awoke and responded to that outer knocking. -As through a maze of disconnected impressions she heard a voice. - -"I give you ten seconds, my lord," it said. "Just--ten--seconds!" - -The words were absolutely quiet, they sounded almost suave; but the -deadly determination of them smote upon her like the call of a trumpet. -She started up. - -The next instant she was staring about her in utter bewilderment. She -was lying on a deep couch in a room she had never seen before, a -strange, conical chamber, oak-panelled, lighted by a domed skylight. It -was furnished with bizarre Eastern luxury. The couch on which she lay -was a nest of tiger-skins. - -But she saw these details but vaguely. That voice she had heard had -made all else of no importance. It had spoken close to her, but it was -not in the room with her, and she could not for the moment tell whence -it had come. She could only listen with caught breath for more, listen -with starting eyes fixed on the stuffed skin of a cobra poised on a -small table near as if ready to strike. She even fancied for a moment -that the thing was alive, and then realized with a passing relief that -it had been converted into the stem of a reading-lamp. - -Again the voice came. It was counting slowly, with the utmost -regularity. - -But it was not allowed to continue. Saltash's voice; quick and -imperious, broke in upon it. "Be quiet, you damn' fool! If you murder -me, you'll only be sorry afterwards. I have told you I don't know where -she is." - -"You have told me a lie, my lord." Grim as fate came the answer, and -following it a movement that turned her sick with fear. - -She sprang to her feet with a wild cry. "Jake! Jake! I am here! -Jake,--come to me!" - -She threw herself against the panelling of the wall in a frenzy of -terror, and beat upon it fiercely, frantically. There was a door behind -her, but instinct warned her that it did not lead whither she desired to -go. It was through the panelling that those sinister words had reached -her. - -But it resisted her wild efforts. She beat in vain. "Oh, Jake!" she -cried again, and broke into agonized sobbing. "Jake, where are you?" - -And then she heard his voice again, short this time and commanding. -"Let her out, my lord! The game is up." - -"Trust a woman to give it away!" said Saltash, and laughed a cold, hard -laugh. - -The panelling against which she stood suddenly yielded, slid back. She -found herself standing on the threshold of the music-room, close to one -of the carved fireplaces. And there, face to face with her, one hand -thrust deep into his breeches-pocket, stood her husband, stood Jake. -All her life she was to remember the look he wore. - -Saltash was nearer still, but she scarcely saw him. She went past him, -sobbing, inarticulate, unnerved. She stretched out trembling, -beseeching hands to the man in whose eyes she read the lust of murder. -She cried aloud to him in her agony! - -"Come away! Oh, come away! Be merciful this once--only this once! -Jake! Jake!" - -She reached him, she clung to him; she would have knelt to him. But he -thrust his left arm around her, forcibly holding her up. - -He did not speak to her, did not, she believed, so much as look at her. -His eyes were fixed with a terrible intensity upon the man beyond her. -His attitude was strained and unyielding. The untamed ferocity of the -wilds was in every line of him, in every tense muscle. Ruthlessness, -lawlessness, savagery unshackled, fiercely eager, beat in every pulse, -every sinew of his frame. She felt as if she were holding back a -furious animal from his prey, as if at any moment he would burst free, -and rend and tear till the demon that possessed him was satisfied. - -But she clung to him faster and faster, seeking to pinion the murderous -right hand that was thrust so deeply away out of her reach. She heard -another laugh from Saltash, but she did not dare to turn. And then came -a sound like the click of a spring-trap. - -The tension went suddenly out of Jake. He relaxed and with a certain -cowboy roughness took his hand from his pocket and grasped her by the -shoulders. His eyes came from beyond her, and looked straight into -hers. And she knew without turning her head that her own hour of -reckoning had come. They were alone. - -For many, many seconds he looked at her so with a red-hot glow in his -eyes that seemed as though it would burn its way to her most secret -soul. She endured it with a desperate courage. If he had caught her by -the throat she would not have flinched. But his hold, though insistent, -was without violence. And at last very, very slowly he let her go. - -"I guess that ends it," he said. - -"What do you mean?" Through quivering lips she asked the question. She -felt as if an icy wind had suddenly caught her. She was cold from head -to foot. - -He made a slight gesture as of one indicating the obvious, and turned -away. She saw his square figure moving away from her, and a terrible -fear went through her. Her very heart felt frozen within her. She -tried to speak, to utter his name; but her throat only worked -spasmodically, making no sound. - -He reached the door, opened it, and then--as if he could not help it--he -looked back at her. And in that moment with frantic effort she burst -the bonds that held her. She threw out her arms in wild entreaty. - -"Jake!" she gasped. "Jake! Don't--don't leave me!" - -He stopped, but he did not return. There was a curious look on his -face. He seemed to stand irresolute. - -She began to move towards him, but found herself trembling too much to -walk. She tottered to the mantel-piece for support. But she still -looked towards him, still tremulously entreated him. - -"Jake, you--you don't understand! You never will understand if you -leave me now. I'm going under--I'm going under! Jake,--save me!" - -She bowed her head suddenly upon her hands, and stood quivering. She -had made her last piteous effort to escape from the toils that held her. -Nothing but a miracle could save her now. Nothing but the power of that -love that dieth not. - -Seconds passed. She thought that he had gone, had abandoned her to her -fate, left her to the mercy of a man who would compass her ruin. And -she wondered in her agony if she could muster sufficient strength to -flee from that evil place and snatch her own deliverance down on the -dark, lonely shore, where no one could ever drag her back again. - -And then very suddenly a hand touched her, closed upon her arm. It was -as if a current of electricity ran through her. She turned with a great -start. - -Jake's eyes, very level, quite inscrutable, looked straight into hers. -"I guess we'll be getting along home," he said. - -His hand urged her steadily, indomitably. He led her speechless from -the room, supporting her when she faltered, but never hesitating or -suffering her to pause. - -They came out at the top of the great, branching staircase. The hall -below them was lighted only by the soft glow that surrounded Saltash's -favourite statue. The hand that held Maud's arm tightened to a grip. -They went down the stairs together, and passed the tragic figure by. - -As they moved down the long hall, a man stepped suddenly out from behind -the statue, and looked after them with eyes that shone derisively. He -did not utter a word, and his movements were without sound. - -Neither of the two was aware of his presence. Only as they paused at -the outer door, Maud glanced back and saw the arc of light about the -statue vanish. - -She uttered a quick exclamation, for it was as if the marble itself had -come to life and fled from her gaze. And then she was aware of Jake's -hands fastening her waterproof about her, and she forgot all but her -longing to escape--to escape. - -A few seconds more, and she heard the heavy door shut behind them. She -was out in the gathering darkness with Jake, and the rain was beating in -her face. - -It was then that her weakness came back to her, a sense of terrible -exhaustion that gave her the feeling of dragging heavy chains. She -fought against it desperately, dreading every instant lest he should -misinterpret her dragging steps and leave her. An overwhelming -drowsiness was creeping over her, numbing all her facilities. She -struggled to fling it off, but could not. It crowded upon her like an -evil dream. She staggered, stumbled, almost fell. - -Jake stopped. "Reckon you're tired," he said. - -She answered him with a rush of tears. "I can't help it! Really, I -can't help it! I--I believe I must be ill." - -She tried to cling to his supporting arm, but her hands slipped weakly -away. She felt herself sinking, sinking into a black sea of oblivion, -and knew it was futile to struggle any longer. - -Yet a vague sense of comfort came to her with the consciousness of his -arms tightening around her. She gave herself to him like a tired child. -She even feebly thanked him as he lifted her. - -And then for a long, long space she knew nothing. Billows and billows -of unfathomable nothingness were over her, under her, all about her. -Sometimes her drugged brain stirred as if about to register an -impression, but no actual impression reached it. The things of earth -had faded utterly away. She was as one vaguely floating in a nebulous -cloud through which now and then, now and then, a dim star shone for a -moment and then went out. - -After a time even this slender link was snapped. She went into a deeper -darkness, and there for awhile her troubled wanderings were stayed. She -slept as she had never slept before. It was as if for a long, long -space she ceased to be.... - -Out of the silence at last came a fearful dream. Out of a great -emptiness she entered another world, a world of demon shapes and demon -voices, of faces that jeered and vanished, a world of terrible, outer -darkness, in which she seemed to be bereft of all things, to stand as it -were naked and alone. She dreamed that the statue had come to life -indeed, and behold, it was herself! In horror unutterable, in shame -that was agony she went her appointed way,--a fallen woman who could -never rise again. - -And ever a voice within seemed urging her to soar, to soar; but she -could not. Wings had been given her, but she could not use them. One -wing had been broken, how she knew not. Perhaps it was in beating -against the bars of a cage. Some such struggle hovered vaguely in her -memory, but all struggling was over now. All hope of escape was dead. - -Again the demon-faces came all about her, demon-hands clutched at her, -pulling her down. And every face was the face of Charlie Burchester, -every hand wore the ring which twice over he had given to her. And -still she heard his laugh, that cruel, bitter laugh with which he had -left her alone in the music-room with Jake. - -At last she knew that she cried aloud to die, but instantly she realized -the futility of her prayer. There was no God to hear her in this awful -place. And there was no Death. - -Yet it was then that it seemed to her that a door was opened somewhere -very far above her, and a gracious breath of purity came down. Crushed -as she was, over-whelmed with evil, grossly besmirched and degraded, it -came to her like a puff of morning wind from the clean, open spaces of -the earth. She turned her face upwards. She gasped and opened her eyes. - -And then all in a moment the dreadful vision passed away from her, and -she saw Jake's face gazing, gazing into hers. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - DELIVERANCE - - -She stared at him vaguely for a space half in wonder, half in fear. His -look was very intent, but it was without anger. She wondered hazily -what had happened, why he was watching her so. - -"Where am I?" she murmured at length. - -He made answer very quietly, as if he had expected the question. "You -are here in the old parlour with me. I brought you here." - -"Oh?" She gazed around her doubtfully. Her brain felt clogged and -dull. "Have I been away then?" she said. "Where is Bunny?" - -He rose and moved across the room to the fire. "Bunny is at school," he -said, and stooped to lift off a saucepan. "Yes, you have been away. You -came back from Liverpool yesterday." - -"Ah!" She gave a quick gasp. The mists were beginning to clear a -little. She became dimly conscious that there was something terrible -behind. She raised herself on her elbow, but was instantly assailed by -a feeling of sickness so intense that she sank back again. - -She was lying with closed eyes when Jake came back to her. He bent over -her with a steaming cup in his hand. - -"Try a little of this!" he said. - -She looked up with an effort. "I don't think I can. Jake, what has -happened? Am I ill again?" - -"Guess you'll remember presently if you drink this," he said. - -She drew back shuddering. "What is it? Not brandy?" - -"No. It's beef-tea." He sat down beside her with a resolute air, and -she suddenly realized that resistance was useless. - -He was very gentle with her, feeding her spoonful by spoonful; and -gradually as she swallowed it she revived. Her brain stirred and seemed -to awake. Memory came crowding back. Long ere the cup was finished, -that last scene in the music-room hung before her like a lurid picture -from which she could not tear her gaze. - -Quietly Jake set aside the cup. "Maybe you'll sleep better now," he -said. - -She lifted her heavy eyes to his. "No, I don't want to sleep any -longer. Jake, you--you are not going away!" - -He seemed on the point of rising. She stretched out a beseeching hand -and laid it on his arm. - -"Jake, I--I want to tell you something. Will you listen to me? Please, -will you listen to me?" - -His arm grew tense as a stretched wire under her touch. She thought -there was a glitter of hardness in the red-brown eyes as he said, "There -is no call for you to tell me anything unless you wish." - -She sat up slowly, compelling herself to face him, "But I want you -to--understand," she said. - -He laid his hand abruptly upon hers with a gesture that almost seemed as -if he would restrain her. "You needn't fret any about that," he said. -"Reckon I--do understand." - -The vital force of the man was in that free grip of his. She looked to -see the awful flare of savage passion leap back into his eyes. But she -looked in vain. His eyes baffled her. They seemed to hold her back -like a sword in the hand of a practised fencer. - -The words she had thought to utter died upon her lips. There was to be -no reckoning then. And yet she could not feel reassured. He did not -look like a man who would forego his revenge. - -"What--what are you going to do?" she faltered at last. - -"I shouldn't want to know too much if I were you," said Jake, softly -drawling. "Not at this stage anyway." - -His hand still held hers. He looked her hard and straight in the face, -and she was conscious of something fiery, something elementary, wholly -uncivilized, behind his look. There was a suggestion of violence about -him. She saw him as a man tracking his enemy through an endless -wilderness, breasting mighty rivers, hewing his way through pathless -forests, conquering every obstacle with fixed determination, mercilessly -riding him down. - -She braced herself and rose, drawing her hand free. Her head still -swam, but she controlled herself resolutely. She stood before him like -a prisoner upon trial. - -"Jake," she said, "I am going to tell you something that will make you -terribly angry; but it's something that you must know." - -She paused, but he sat in silence, grimly watching her. She found her -resolution wavering and gripped it with all her strength. - -"When I came back here from Liverpool, it was not--not to see my mother -as I gave you to understand. It was to--to--" She faltered under his -look, found she could not continue, and suddenly threw out her hands in -piteous appeal. "Jake, don't make it impossible for me to tell you!" - -He rose also. They stood face to face. "Are you going to tell me that -you lied to me?" he said. - -She drew back from him sharply. The question felt like a blow. "I am -telling you the truth now," she said. - -"And for whose sake?" He flung the words brutally, as a man goaded -beyond endurance. But the moment they were uttered he drew a hard -breath as though he would recall them. He came to her, took her by the -shoulders. "You take my advice!" he said. "Leave the whole miserable -business alone! You've been tricked--badly tricked. You have appealed -to me to protect you, and that's enough. I don't want any more than -that. I reckon I understand the situation better than you think. You -are trying to tell me that it was your original intention to elope with -Saltash. Well, maybe it was. But you had given up the notion before you -went to him at the Castle, and he knew you had given it up. If he -hadn't known it, he wouldn't have taken the trouble to drug you. It's -an old device--old as the hills. He's probably done it a score of times, -and with more success than he had to-day. Yes, that makes you sick. I -guessed it would. And that's what he's going to answer to me for,--what -he'll ask your pardon for on his knees before I've done with him." - -"Oh no, Jake, no!" She broke in upon him with a cry of consternation. -"For pity's sake, no! Jake, I can't bear it! I cannot bear it! Jake, -I beseech you, leave him alone now! Oh, do leave him alone! You--you -can punish me in any other way. I'll bear anything but that--anything -but that!" - -Piteously she besought him, shaken to the soul by the grim purport of -his speech. She did not flinch from him now. Rather she appealed to -him as one in sore straits, pouring out her entreaty with all that -remained of her quivering strength. - -And her words made an impression upon him of which she was instantly -aware. His hands still held her, but the tension went out of his grasp. -He looked at her with eyes that were no longer hard, eyes that held a -dawning compassion. - -"Reckon you're the last person that deserves punishing," he said at -length, and in his voice she fancied she caught an echo of the old frank -kindliness. "You've been the victim all through. Reckon you've -suffered more than enough already." - -She hid her face from him with a sudden rush of tears. Something in his -words pierced straight to her heart. - -"You don't know me!" she sobbed. "Oh, you don't know me!" - -She drew herself away and sank down in the chair by the fire where once -she had poured out all her troubles to him. - -He did not kneel beside her now. He stood in silence, and as he stood -his hands slowly clenched and he thrust them into his pockets. - -He spoke at last, but it was with a restraint that made the words sound -cold. "Maybe I know you better than you think. I know you've cared for -the wrong man ever since I first met you. Guess I've known it all -along, and it hasn't made things extra easy for either of us, more -especially as he was utterly unworthy of you. But you're not to blame -for that. It's just human nature. And you'd never have fallen in love -with me anyway." He paused a moment. "I don't see you're to blame any -for that either," he said, and she knew by his voice that he had turned -away from her. "Anyway, I'm not blaming you. And if--if punishing -Saltash means punishing you too--well,--even though he's a skunk and a -blackguard--I reckon--I'll let him go." - -He was moving to the door with the words. They came half-strangled as -if something within rebelled fiercely against their utterance. - -He reached the door and stopped with his back to her. - -"You'd better get your mother to join you here to-morrow," he said. -"I'm sleeping with The Hundredth Chance to-night. He's been below par -lately, and I'm kind of worried about him." - -He opened the door. He was on the point of squarely passing through -when quickly, tremulously, she stopped him. - -"Jake, please--please wait a moment! I must--I must--Jake!" - -He closed the door again and turned round, but he did not come back or -even look at her. There was a hint of doggedness about him, almost as -though he waited against his will. - -She stood up. Something in his attitude made it difficult, painfully -difficult, to speak. She strove for self-control. "You--are going -to--to forgive me?" she said quiveringly. - -He glanced up momentarily, a grim flicker as of a smile about his mouth. -"For what you haven't done, and never could do? It would be mighty -generous of me, wouldn't it?" he said. - -She moved a step towards him. "I--might have done it. I--so -nearly--did it," she said, in distress. "I don't deserve any kindness -from you, Jake. I--don't know how to thank you for it." - -He made a sharp gesture with one hand. "If I've given you more than -bare justice," he said, "put it to my credit! Make allowance for me next -time!" - -Something rose in her throat. She stood for a moment battling with it. -Bare justice! Had she ever given him so much as that? And he rewarded -her with this blind generosity that would not even be aware of her sin. - -Trembling, she drew nearer to him. She stretched out a quivering hand. -"Jake," she said, and the tears were running down her face. "I--will -try--to be worthy of your--goodness to me." - -He took the hand, gripping it with a force that made her wince. -"Shucks, my girl!" he said, with a gruffness oddly uncharacteristic of -him. "That's nothing. Be worthy of yourself!" - -And with that abruptly he let her go, turned and left her. She knew by -the finality of his going that she would see him no more that night. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - THE POISON FRUIT - - -It was curiously like the old days to see Jake enter the parlour on the -following morning with Chops the red setter at his heels. But for -Chops' delighted welcome of her, Maud could almost have felt that the -intervening weeks had been no more than a dream. - -She sat in her accustomed place and fondled him. Them, as Jake passed -her, she put out a detaining hand. - -"Good morning, Jake!" - -Her face was burning; yet she lifted it. He stood a second, only a -second, behind her chair; then bent and touched her forehead with his -lips. - -"You're down early," he said. "Have you slept?" - -She nodded, feeling her agitation subside with thankfulness. "How -is--The Hundredth Chance?" - -Jake went to the fire. "I think he'll be all right; but I won't trust -anyone else to look after him. By the way, here's a letter for you!" - -He held it out to her behind his back. She took it. Her fingers closed -upon a crest. - -She got up sharply, went to his side, and with a passionate movement -dropped it straight into the flames. - -"Shall we have breakfast now?" she said. - -"Here's another letter!" said Jake. - -The grim smile was hovering about his mouth; but he made no comment -whatever upon her action. - -She took the second letter. "Is this all?" - -"That's all," said Jake. - -"It's from Uncle Edward." She opened it, and began to read. - -Suddenly she glanced up and found his eyes upon her. They fell -instantly. - -"You can read it too," she said, and held the letter so that he might -share it with her. - -He stood at her shoulder and read. - -It was a very brief epistle, written in evident distress of mind. - -"MY DEAR GRAND-NIECE, - -"Will you permit me to tender to you my very humble apology for the -gross behaviour by which I drove you from the shelter of my roof? The -fact that you have returned to your husband's house convinces me of the -base injustice of my suspicions. I ought to be old enough to know that -a woman cannot be judged by her friends. If you find that you possess -sufficient magnanimity to extend a free pardon to a very lonely and -penitent old sinner, will you of your charity return--for however brief -a period--and give him an opportunity to demonstrate his penitence? - -"Yours humbly and hopefully, - "EDWARD WARREN." - -"Oh, poor old man!" Maud looked up quickly. "But how did he know I was -here?" - -"I wired to him of your safe arrival," Jake said, "in reply to a wire -from him which I didn't read. I thought he might come posting down here -if I didn't." - -"Poor old man!" she said again. And after a moment, "Thank you, Jake." - -He looked at her. "For keeping my word? I generally do that. Say, -what are you going to do?" - -"I'll write to him," she said. - -He moved round to his place at the breakfast-table. "You're not wanting -to go back then?" - -She hesitated. - -"What is it?" he said. "Money? I can let you have some if you're short -of it." - -She flushed. "No, Jake, no! I think--I think I'll stay here for the -present. I will make him understand." - -"Please yourself!" said Jake, and opened the morning paper. - -A faint sense of disappointment went through her. She had fancied her -decision would have evoked approval if not open pleasure from him. She -poured out his coffee in silence. - -As she brought it to him, he glanced up at her. "Don't stay on my -account if you feel you'd sooner go!" he said. "I get along very well -alone." - -She stiffened ever so slightly. "Thank you," she said. "I'll think -about it." - -Jake fell to work upon his breakfast with his usual business-like -rapidity. She did not attempt to keep pace with him. Somehow the idea -that he really wished her to go had robbed her of all desire to eat. - -After a time he glanced across at her again. "Are you going down to see -your mother?" - -She answered him somewhat listlessly. "Yes, I suppose so." - -"She'll have to decide on something soon," he observed. - -Maud bit her lip. The thought of going to her mother again was wholly -repugnant to her. She marvelled that he did not see it. - -"I am sure she won't come and live in this place," she said, after a -moment, - -"She can please herself," said Jake imperturbably. - -That was to be his attitude then. They were to please themselves. He -had withdrawn his control over her actions. An evil spirit suddenly -whispered to her that he would even have left her in Saltash's keeping -had she not called to him to deliver her. She shook off the poisonous -thought; but it had been there. He had been kind--more than kind--to -her. She forced herself to dwell upon his kindness. But his present -indifference was even more obvious. He was engrossed in his work. He -had thought only for his animals. Plainly it was a matter of small -importance to him if she went or stayed. - -He finished his breakfast and got up. "Well, so long!" he said. "I may -not get back before nightfall. I have to go over to Graydown." - -She scarcely acknowledged his words, and he did not wait for any -acknowledgment. He took up his riding-whip and went out. Chops looked -round at her doubtfully and followed him. - -The door closed upon them. And suddenly Maud leaned upon the table and -hid her face. This was to be her life then--the unspeakable dreariness -of a loveless home. She had thought he loved her. She had thought! -She had thought! And now she saw that it began and ended with mere -kindness, and possibly a sense of duty. His passion for her--that -fiery, all-mastering desire--had burnt itself out, and there was nothing -left. An unutterable weariness came upon her. Oh, she was tired--she -was tired of life! - -It was then that in some mystic fashion that voice which she had once -heard spoke again in her soul. "The spark is ours for the kindling--the -power to love--the power to create love...." - -Was she indeed capable of kindling this lamp in the desert? Out of -those dead ashes of passion, could Love the Immortal indeed be made to -rise? - -She sat for a long time and pondered--pondered. - -When, an hour later, she went down the hill to the town, the day was -brilliant and the sky without a cloud. The sea was one glorious sheet of -blue that seemed to stretch away limitless into Infinity. - -Down by the quay a white yacht rocked at her moorings. She marked it -with a throbbing heart. Why, oh why, did he linger? She yearned to -thrust him for ever out of her life. - -She reached the Anchor Hotel and entered. The bareness of the place -smote cold upon the senses. She passed through it quickly and went up -to her mother's room. - -"Oh, my dear, at last!" Querulously Mrs. Sheppard greeted her. "Shut -the door and come in! Charlie is watching for you. He will be over -directly." - -She was clad in an old pink wrapper, and kneeling before a half-filled -trunk. - -Maud stood still in the doorway, every spark of animation gone out of -her. "Mother, what are you doing? What do you mean?" - -Her voice sounded frozen and devoid of all emotion. Her fingers were -clenched rigidly upon the handle of the door. She stared at her mother -with eyes that were suddenly stony. - -"What do you mean?" she repeated. - -Mrs. Sheppard looked up at her smiling. "I mean, dear, that while you -go for your Mediterranean cruise, I am going back to London. Dear me, -why did I ever leave it? I have never been happy since. Fairharbour -never suited me. I was saying so to Charlie only last night. He told -me all about it, dear. Poor child, I hope that horrible cowboy person -wasn't very cruel to you. I couldn't help letting out where you had -gone yesterday afternoon. He came in only a few minutes after you left, -and was so insistent. But, thank goodness, you've broken away. You had -Charlie's letter, did you? I told him I was sure you would come -directly you knew he was waiting. Dear Charlie! He really is very -good. I quite see his point of view about the poor old 'Anchor,' and I -really think it is all for the best. Giles is gone anyway, and I am -released from any obligations in that direction. Charlie hated Giles -for some reason, though I can't discover that he ever met him. Come in, -child! Why do you stand there looking so tragic? Surely all's well -that ends well?" - -Maud turned stiffly as though her limbs had become automatic. "I am -going," she said. "I am going." - -"Oh, wait till Charlie comes for you, dearest! Don't be too impetuous! -I am sure he will come immediately. He would be watching the shore from -the yacht. Such a lovely morning for a cruise too! You will be wanting -a few little necessaries, dear. I have put them up for you in that -leather bag. I knew you would never think of that for yourself. I -believe he means to take you straight to Paris, you lucky child. The -yacht will go round and wait for you at Marseilles. Charlie always does -things so royally, doesn't he? He has been most kind, most generous, to -me." - -Mrs. Sheppard was talking into the trunk, a smile of happy anticipation -about her lips that made her almost comely again. - -"Really," she said, "it is quite wonderful how things always turn out -for the best. I only wish I had known a year ago how happy you and dear -little Bunny were going to be. It would have saved me so much anxiety. -When you are Lady Saltash, of course you will make a home for him at the -Castle. And there may be just a corner sometimes for me too, darling. -What a happy party we shall all be!" - -She threw a smile over her shoulder, and then suddenly turned and -stared. The door was closed, and she was alone. - -Down the wide staircase Maud ran like a wild thing seeking freedom, down -into the bare, echoing hall. But the moment she reached it, she -stopped--stopped dead as one suddenly turned to stone. - -He was waiting for her, there in the sunny open doorway, a smile of -arrogant satisfaction on his ugly face, and triumph, open triumph, in -his eyes. - -He came to meet her like a king, carelessly gracious, royally -self-assured. - -"Ah, Maud of the roses!" he said. "Free at last!" - -He reached her where she stood, rigidly waiting. He opened his arms to -take her. And then--as though there had been the flash of a dagger -between them--he stopped. - -She had not moved. She did not move. But the blazing blue of her eyes -gave him check. For the space of many seconds they stood, not -breathing, not stirring; and in those seconds, as by the light of a -piercing torch, each read the other's soul. - -It was Saltash who gave ground at last, but insolently with a smile of -bitter mockery. "This scene is called 'The Unmasking of the Villain,'" -he observed. "The virtuous heroine, having descended from her pedestal -to expose his many crimes, now gathers her mud-stained garments about -her and climbs back again, in the confident hope that the worthy -cow-puncher who owns her will conclude that she has never left her -exalted position and that the mud was all thrown by the villain. Now, I -wonder if the worthy cow-puncher is quite such a fool as that." - -Her face was quite colourless, but she heard his gibe without a sign of -shrinking. Only as he ceased to speak, she lifted one hand and pointed -to the open door. - -"Go!" she said. - -Just the one word, spoken with a finality more crushing than any -outburst of anger! If it expressed contempt, it was involuntary, she -uttered only what was in her soul. - -He looked at her, and suddenly the derision in his eye flamed into -fierce malignancy. "Oh, I am going," he said. "You will never kick me -from your path again. You shall tread it alone--quite alone except for -the cow-puncher who no doubt will see to it that you walk on the stony -side of the way. And I warn you it will be--very stony, especially when -he comes to realize that his lady wife has been his ruin. A tramp -across the world with Jake Bolton under those conditions will at least -destroy all illusions as to the stuff of which he is made. And I wish -you joy of the journey." He made her a deep, ironical bow, and swung -upon his heel. - -But as he went she spoke, suddenly, passionately, as though the words -leaped forth, compelling her. "Jake Bolton is a man--a white man!" - -Saltash laughed aloud, lifting his shoulders as he sauntered away. -"With the heart of a beast, _chere reine_," he said. "For that cause -also, I wish you joy." - -He went. The sun smote through the empty doorway. She put up both hands -to her eyes as though to blot out some evil vision. - -And presently--like a creature that has been sorely wounded--she also -crept away, fleeing ashamed by another door, that no one might observe -her going. - -No, Jake was no fool. He saw only what he chose to see, believed only -what he willed to believe. He had been generous to her--ay, generous -past all understanding. But he was no fool. He had refused the mute -offer of her lips only that morning. Wherefore? Wherefore? - -The answer lay in Saltash's mocking words, and all her life she would -remember them. The poison plant had borne its bitter fruit indeed, and -she had been forced to eat thereof. It burned her now with a cruel -intensity, consuming her like a darting flame. But she knew by its very -fierceness that it could not last. Very soon her heart--her soul--would -all be burnt away; and there would be only dead ashes left--only dead -ashes from which no living spark could ever be kindled again. - -No, Jake was no fool--no fool! He would not blame her, that was all; -because she was a woman. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - THE LOSER - - -"Why doesn't Maud come back?" said Bunny discontentedly. "It's beastly -mean of her to stay away over the holidays." - -"You can go to her if you like, my son," said Jake, between whiffs at -his pipe. - -"Oh, I know. But it isn't the same thing. And besides, I'm not going -to leave you alone for Christmas, so there! Say, Jake, I wonder you put -up with it. Why shouldn't we go--the two of us--and fetch her back?" - -"She's better where she is," said Jake. "And as to my going away, it's -out of the question. I'm a fixture--so long as there's anything left to -do." - -Something in the last words caught Bunny's attention. He looked at him -with sudden shrewdness. "What do you mean, Jake? What's up?" - -Jake was silent. He sat moodily smoking and staring into the fire. His -chin was sunk on his chest. He looked older than his years. - -Bunny on the other side of the hearth gazed at him for several seconds -with close attention. Finally he got up, went to him, slipped down on -to the arm of his chair. - -"What is it, Jake, old feller? Tell me!" - -Jake looked up, met the warm sympathy in the boy's eyes, and in a moment -thrust a kindly arm about the slim young figure. - -"Don't you worry about me, little pard!" he said. "There ain't anything -the matter that I can't face out by myself." - -"Oh, but that's rot, Jake." Bunny's cheek went down against the man's -bronze head and pressed it hard. "What's the good of bottling it up? -'Sides, you know, Jake, I don't count. I'd die before I'd split." - -"Guess I know that," Jake said. - -He hugged Bunny to him as if there were comfort in mere contact, but he -said no more. - -Bunny hugged him in return, and after a brief silence began to probe for -the enlightenment he desired. "Why do you say Maud is better where she -is, Jake? After all, she is your wife and no one else's, isn't she?" - -Jake puffed at his pipe for a few seconds as if considering his reply. -At last, "I say it because it is so," he said. "Your Uncle Edward wanted -her, and I reckon that's just the silver lining to my cloud. He's a -rich man, I gather. He can look after the two of you--if I go under." - -"Jake! You aren't going under!" Horrified incredulity sounded in -Bunny's voice. He leaned swiftly forward to look into Jake's face. - -A queer, dogged smile showed upon it for an instant and was gone. -"Don't you worry any, sonny! I shall come up again," said Jake. "I've -been under before, practically down and out. But it hasn't killed me. -It ain't going to kill me this time. So long as you and Maud are -provided for, I can fend for myself." - -"But Jake, what's it mean? You haven't lost money?" urged Bunny in -bewilderment. - -"No. I've got a little money. There are plenty of poor devils worse -off than I." Jake leaned his head back against Bunny's wiry arm. There -was a fighting gleam in his eyes. "But it ain't enough to keep me -going. If it had been, I reckon I shouldn't have waited for notice to -quit." - -"Is that what you've got? Jake, you aren't in earnest! Charlie wouldn't -be such a blackguard!" - -Jake uttered an abrupt laugh; his teeth were clenched on his lower lip. -"Oh, Charlie's a blackguard all right--blackguard enough for anything. -Don't you ever make any mistake about that! But I presume it's up to -him to sell the stud if he feels so disposed. There ain't anything -specially blackguardly in that. It's just his polite way of telling me -to git." - -"Sell the stud! Is that what he's going to do? Oh, Jake, old feller! -Jake!" Shocked sympathy was in Bunny's voice. - -Jake hugged him harder. "I hadn't meant to tell you on your first -night. But you're such a shrewd little chap. And you've got to know -sooner or later. Don't make an all-fired fuss about it anyway!" - -"All right, Jake." Bunny sounded a little breathless, but there was -resolution in his voice. "It's you I'm thinking of. When--when's it -going to be?" - -"The sale? Early in the year I expect. I haven't any definite -instructions as to that. I'm expecting 'em every day. All I've been -told officially at present is to cancel all engagements. Of course I -guessed what was in the wind then. I tackled old Bishop the Agent about -it the other day; and he had to confirm it. Ah, well!" Jake heaved an -abrupt sigh that seemed to catch him unawares, and became silent. - -"P'raps he won't sell 'em all, Jake," said Bunny hesitatingly. "He -couldn't--surely--sell The Hundredth Chance!" - -Jake's pipe suddenly cracked between his teeth. He sat up sharply, and -took it out of his mouth. It fell in twain between his fingers. He sat -staring at it, then with a curious reverence he stooped forward and -dropped the pieces into the heart of the fire. - -"Yes," he said heavily. "I reckon The Hundredth Chance will go with all -the rest." - -He looked at Bunny, and there was desolation in his eyes; but he gave it -no verbal expression. And Bunny also found that the subject demanded -silence; it was beyond words. - -"Does Maud know?" he asked at length, speaking rather doubtfully, as if -not quite sure of his ground. - -"No. I didn't want to worry her before I need." Jake's eyes went back -to the fire, gazing into it, dumbly troubled. "I fancy there's no doubt -that the old man will provide for her--for both of you. That's what I'm -counting on anyway." - -Bunny made an abrupt movement of impatience. "Oh, damn all that, Jake! -What of you?" - -For the first time his strong language went unrebuked. Jake's eyes -remained fixed upon the fire where burned the remains of his treasure. -He spoke slowly, as one reading words but dimly discerned. - -"Reckon I shall go back to America. I shall find my feet again there. -There's no call for you to be anxious about me. Guess I shan't starve." - -"Jake!" Bunny's arm went round his shoulders, gripping them hard. He -spoke into Jake's ear, a rapid, nervous whisper. "Jake, if you're going -to America, I reckon I'm coming too. There's no one worth speaking to -after you. I just won't be left behind. I'll work, Jake. I'll work -like a nigger. I won't be a drag on you. But I can't stay behind--not -after all you've been to me. Jake, Jake, old feller, say you'll have -me! I'm as strong as a horse. And I'd sooner starve along with you -than be left without you. I--I--Jake, old feller, please!" He suddenly -bowed his head upon Jake's shoulder with a hard sob. - -"Little pard!" Jake said, and pulled him down beside him. "Don't act -the fool now! That ain't like you!" - -Bunny clung to him almost fiercely. "You shan't lose everything, Jake. -First Maud, and then the animals, and then the home,--and--and--me too. -You like me a bit, don't you, Jake?" - -"Just a bit," said Jake, ruffling the black head. - -"Then let me come with you, Jake! I'll do whatever you tell me. -I--I'll black your boots for you every day. I'll do anything under the -sun. Only don't leave me behind! I miss you badly enough at school. -But I can't stick it--without you--altogether." - -"Shucks! Shucks!" said Jake very softly. - -He was holding Bunny in his arms in the old brotherly way. They were -too close to one another for any boyish dignity to come between. The -bond that linked them had been forged in the fires of adversity, and -adversity served but to strengthen it. - -"I can't!" Bunny reiterated. "You don't know what you are to me, Jake. -You've just made me. And I--I feel as if I'll all come undone again if -you go right away." - -"I haven't gone yet," Jake said, in a drawl that was slightly unsteady. -"But if it is to be, Bunny lad,--and God knows it's more than -likely--you can do a bigger thing for me by staying back here--along -with Maud--than if you came along and roughed it with me. You'll be the -link between us, boy, when--all the other links are gone." - -He became silent, gently smoothing the hair that he had ruffled. - -Bunny was silent also for a space. It was as if something sacred had -come into their communion. At last with his head still pillowed on -Jake's shoulder he spoke. - -"Say, Jake!" - -Jake's arm tightened almost as if he would silence him, but he said -nothing. - -And Bunny persisted. "Jake, old chap, it doesn't take a prophet to see -that things aren't as they should be between you two. I'm beastly -sorry. I know jolly well it's not your fault." - -"It ain't hers," Jake said, almost under his breath. - -"No. I guess it's that blackguard Charlie. I wish I were a man. I'd -shoot him!" said Bunny vindictively. - -"I guess you wouldn't," Jake said, faint humour in his voice. "Besides, -there's nothing to shoot him for now. He's as much a loser as I am." - -"What! They've quarrelled?" questioned Bunny. "Where is he? At the -Castle?" - -"No. Heaven knows where he is. He's been gone for the last six weeks -and more." - -"It's twice that since Maud went away," observed Bunny uneasily. "Why -on earth doesn't she come back, Jake? She's not--not--afraid of you?" - -"She has been back once in that time," Jake said quietly. "She stayed -one night with your mother at 'The Anchor.' The place is shut up now, -and your mother has gone back to London. I thought possibly that she -would have settled down here a bit with Maud. But she didn't quite see -it. And it was as well, for the old uncle wrote asking Maud to go back -to him, and she went." - -"Without consulting you?" asked Bunny quickly. - -"She didn't consult me certainly, but she knew I was willing for her to -go." Jake spoke with a touch of restraint. - -Bunny raised his head and looked at him with sudden shrewdness. "Who -did she want to get away from? You? Or Charlie?" - -A flicker that was scarcely humorous crossed Jake's face. "Maybe both," -he said. - -"And you--you quarrelled with Charlie?" - -"No. Seeing he was a loser, I let him go in peace. It was the only -thing to do." - -"And he has got his knife into you on that account?" questioned Bunny. - -"Maybe," Jake admitted. - -"Then he's a low hound, and I'd love to tell him so." - -"Where's the use? Reckon he knows it all right," said Jake dryly. - -"I hope Maud knows it too!" - -"She does," said Jake. - -Bunny looked slightly mollified. "That's something anyway. Say, Jake?" - -"What is it, my son?" Jake's red-brown eyes looked at him with a -tenderness that only Bunny was ever allowed to see. - -Bunny's head went back to its resting-place against his shoulder -swiftly, endearingly. "Jake, Jake, old man, why don't you go back to -her? Maybe she's wanting you--and hasn't the pluck to say so. Women -are like that, you know." - -Jake was silent. - -"Give her the chance, Jake!" Bunny urged. "You don't know her like I -do. She always was shy. Lots of people thought her proud, but it was -mostly shyness. Give her the chance, Jake, old fellow! Just this one -chance! It may make all the difference." - -"Think so?" said Jake. - -"Course I do. I know Maud. She'd sooner die than show you her -feelings. But she's got 'em all the same. Maybe she's wanting -you--quite a lot, Jake. You can't tell." - -"And maybe she's not," said Jake. - -"Oh don't--don't be an ass, Jake! Come along and find out anyway! -It's--it's up to you, Jake. And there's no one else in the running." - -A whimsical smile touched Jake's grim mouth. "Guess that's just what -makes it so difficult," he said. "Is anyone at all in the running? I'd -sooner draw a loser than a blank." - -Bunny lifted a hot, earnest face. "Don't be an ass, Jake!" he urged -again. "Go in, man! Go in and win! You love her, don't you?" - -It was a straight shot, and it found its mark. Something fiery, -something wholly untamed, leaped into Jake's eyes. They shone like a -flame upon which spirit has been poured. Bunny pulled himself free with -a sound that was almost a whoop of triumph. "You silly coon! Go and -tell her so!" he said. "I'll bet you never have yet!" - -And Jake uttered a laugh that was curiously broken. "You're getting too -damn' clever, my son," he said. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII - - THE STORM WIND - - -"It'll be real sport to take her by surprise," said Bunny, with a -chuckle of anticipation. "But what a beast of a journey it's been!" - -They had been travelling practically all day, and a black night of -streaming rain had been their welcome. - -They had found accommodation at the hotel in which Maud had once spent a -night, and having dined there they splashed through the muddy streets in -search of their goal. - -They found it, a tall, gaunt house standing back in a dark, dripping -garden, unlighted, forsaken. - -"It can't be the place!" said Bunny, for the first time feeling his -ardour for the adventure slightly damped. - -"We'll soon find out," said Jake. - -They groped their way to a flight of steps and with the aid of a match -found the bell. It rang desolately through the building. - -"The house is empty!" declared Bunny. - -But after a considerable pause a step sounded within, and a white-faced -maid-servant opened to them. - -"Come in!" she said, in a hollow voice. "You're very late." - -"Mrs. Bolton here?" asked Jake, as he stepped on to the mat. - -She nodded as if in agitation. "Yes, I'll tell her." - -She shut the door behind them and went away, leaving them in the narrow, -dimly-lighted hall. - -"What a rum go!" said Bunny. - -Jake said nothing. He was gazing into the shadows in front of him with -intent, searching eyes. How would she greet him? Would she be glad? -Would she be sorry? He watched for her face, and the first instinctive -expression it would wear at sight of him. - -There came the rustle of a dress, a footfall that was light and yet -somehow sounded weary. She came through the dim hall with a slow, tired -gait. - -"Good evening!" she said. "Will you come upstairs?" - -Bunny's fist suddenly prodded Jake in the back. He went forward a step -almost involuntarily. - -"Maud!" he said. - -"Jake!" She stood as one transfixed. - -And in that moment he forgot to notice how she looked at him, forgot -everything in the one overwhelming thought that he was with her. He -strode forward, and somehow her two cold hands were in his before he -knew whether he had taken or she had offered them. - -"My girl!" he said, and again huskily, "My girl!" - -She lifted a quivering face. "Jake, thank you for coming! I--I hardly -thought you could have got here so soon." - -He drew her to him and kissed her. "You've been wanting me?" he said. - -She nodded. "I sent for you, yes. I--I didn't feel as if I could--face -it all--by myself." - -His hold was warm, full of sustaining strength. "You'll have to tell me -what has happened," he said. "I didn't get your message." - -"You didn't?" She looked momentarily startled. "Then why are you here?" - -"I came--" he hesitated, glanced over his shoulder. "Bunny's here too," -he said. - -"Thought we'd just look you up," said Bunny, emerging from the -background, "Hullo, Maud! What's the matter? Is the old man ill?" - -She turned to greet him. "He died yesterday," she said. - -"Great Scott!" said Bunny. - -Jake said nothing. He was watching her closely, closely. - -She kissed Bunny lingeringly, but without emotion. "He was only ill -five days," she said. "It was a chill and then pneumonia. I nursed him -right up to the last. He wouldn't have anyone else. In fact he -wouldn't let me out of his sight." Her face quivered again, and she -paused. Then drearily, "I was expecting the undertaker when you came -in," she said. "I've had to arrange everything. The funeral will be -the day after to-morrow. Will you come into the dining room? There's a -fire there." - -She led the way to that stiff and cheerless apartment. Bunny pressed -close to her and pushed his hand through her arm. - -"Say, Maud, old girl, you're ill yourself," he said. - -She looked at him out of deeply shadowed eyes. "No. I'm not ill; only -tired, too tired to sleep. There is some wine in that cupboard, dear. -Do you mind getting it out? You and Jake must have some." - -She went over to the fire almost as one moving in a dream, and stood -before it silently. - -Jake came to her, put a kindly arm about her. "You must go to bed, my -dear," he said. "You're worn out." - -She shook her head with a rather piteous smile. "Oh no, I can't go for -a long while yet. I must get some rooms ready for you and Bunny." - -"You won't need to do that," he said. "Bunny is putting up at the hotel -round the corner. And I can sleep just anywhere." - -She let herself lean against him. "Thank you for coming, Jake," she -said again. - -She was plainly worn out, and from that moment Jake took command. He -made her sit in one of the stiff velvet chairs in front of the fire, -made her drink some wine, and finally left her there with Bunny in -charge. - -She was absolutely docile, gladly relinquishing all responsibility. To -Bunny she gave a few halting details of the old man's death, but she -could not talk much. The strain of those days and nights of constant -watching had brought her very near to a complete breakdown. She was so -tired, so piteously tired. - -She dozed presently, sitting there before the fire with him, holding his -hand. It was so good to have him there, so good to feel that there was -someone left to love her, to think for her, so good to know that -Bunny--though he had ceased to be the one aim and end of her -existence--had not drifted wholly out of her life. - -It must have been more than an hour later that she was aroused by a few -whispered words over her head, and sat up to see Bunny on his feet, -preparing to take his departure. - -She looked up in swift distress. "Oh, are you going? Must you go?" - -"Yes, he must go," Jake said gently. "He'll get locked out if he -doesn't. And the little chap's tired, you know, Maud. He's been -travelling all day and wants a good night's rest." - -That moved her. Though Bunny disclaimed fatigue she saw that he had -been sleeping also. All the mother in her rose to the surface. - -"Yes, of course, dear. You must go," she said. "I wish you could have -slept here, but perhaps it's better you shouldn't. Can you find your -way alone? Jake, won't you go with him?" - -But Bunny strenuously refused Jake's escort. He bade her good night -with warmth, and she saw that he hugged Jake at parting. And then the -door closed upon him, and Jake's square figure came back alone. - -He came straight to her, and bent over her. "My dear," he said, "you're -tired to death. You must go to bed." - -She shook her head, wanly smiling. "It's no good going to bed, Jake. -I'm much happier here. Directly I lie down I am wide awake. Besides, -I'm too tired to get there." - -"All right. I'll put you there," he said. - -"No, no, Jake." She stretched out a quick hand of protest; but there -was no holding him off. - -His arm was already about her; he lifted her to her feet. His face wore -the old dominant look, yet with a subtle difference. His eyes held -nought but kindness. - -She yielded herself to him almost involuntarily. "I haven't been to bed -for nearly a week," she said. "I've slept of course in snatches. I -used to lie down in Uncle Edward's room. Poor dear old man! He wanted -me so." Her eyes were full of tears. "I--I was with him when he died," -she whispered. "We had arranged to have a nurse this morning, but the -end came rather quickly. We knew his heart was weak. The doctor -said--it was better for him really--that he went like that." - -"Why didn't you send for me sooner?" Jake said. - -Her pale face flushed. She turned it from him. - -"I didn't think--you would want to come. It wasn't till--till I got -frightened at the dreadful emptiness that--that--" She broke off, -fighting with herself. - -"All right. Don't try to tell me! I understand," he said soothingly. -He went up the long, dim staircase with her, still strongly supporting -her. He entered her room as one who had the right. - -The tears were running down her face, for she could not check them. She -attempted no remonstrance, suffering him like a forlorn child. And as -though she had been a child, he ministered to her, waiting upon her, -helping her, with a womanly intuition that robbed the situation of all -difficulty, meeting her utter need with a simplicity and singleness of -purpose that could not but achieve its end. - -"You treat me as if--as if I were Bunny," she said once, smiling faintly -through her tears. - -And Jake smiled in answer. "A man ought to be able to valet his own -wife," he said. - -The words were simply uttered, but they sent the blood to her cheeks. -"You--you are very good to me," she murmured confusedly. "I--ought not -to let you." - -"Don't you worry any about that!" said Jake. "The main idea is to get -you to bed." - -"I am sure I shall never sleep again," she said. - -Yet as she sank down at last upon the pillow there was a measure of -relief in her eyes. - -"Now you're going to lie quiet till morning," Jake said, tucking in the -bedclothes with motherly care. "Good night, my girl! Is that -comfortable?" - -He kissed her for the second time, lightly, caressingly, exactly as he -might have kissed a child. - -She tried to answer him, to thank him, but could not. He smoothed the -hair from her temples, and turned away. - -But in that moment her hands came out to him with a gesture that was -almost convulsive, caught and held his sleeve. "Oh, Jake!" she said. -"Jake! I'm so lonely!" and suddenly began to sob--"I want you more than -Bunny does. Don't go! Don't go!" - -It was a cry of utter desolation. He turned back to her on the instant. -He stooped over her, his face close to hers. "Do you mean that?" he -said, and in his voice, low as it was, there sounded a deep note as of -something forcibly suppressed. - -She clung to him, hiding her face against the rough tweed coat. "I've -no one else," she sobbed. - -"Ah!" Jake said. A very strange look came into his face. His mouth -twitched a little as if in self-ridicule. "But, my girl," he said, "I -reckon you'd say that to anyone to-night." - -"No--no!" Quiveringly she answered him. "I say it to you--to you! -I'm--so terribly--alone,--so--so--empty. Uncle Edward used to tell -me--what it meant to be lonely. But I never knew it could be--like -this." - -"Poor girl!" Jake murmured softly. "I know--I know." - -The look of faint irony still hovered about his lips, but his voice, his -touch, conveyed nothing but tenderness. He was stroking the dark hair -with a motherliness that was infinitely soothing. - -She was holding his other hand tightly, tightly, against her breast, and -it was wet with her tears. "I've been--so miserable," she told him -brokenly. "I know it's been--no one's fault--but my own. But life is -so difficult--so difficult. I've treated you badly--badly. I haven't -done--my duty. I've always yearned for the things out of reach. And -now--and now--oh, Jake, my world is a desert. I haven't a friend left -anywhere." - -"That's wrong," Jake said in his voice of soft decision. "You've got me. -I mayn't be the special kind of friend you're wanting. But--as you -say--I reckon I'm better than nothing. And I'm your husband anyway." - -"My husband--yes. That's why--I sent for you, Jake," she hid her face -lower, deeper into his coat, "if--if I had had--a child, would it--would -it--have made you happy?" - -"Oh, that!" Jake laid his head down suddenly on the pillow above hers. -He spoke into the thick darkness of her hair. "My girl, don't cry so! -I wanted it--yes!" - -She moved slightly, stretched a hesitating hand upwards, touched his -face, his neck. "Jake, it--it would make me happy--too." - -He put his arm about her as she lay, and gathered her close to him, not -speaking. - -She was trembling all over, her face was still hidden. But she yielded -to the drawing of his arm, clinging to him blindly, desperately. - -He held her so for a little space, then with steady insistence he moved -his other hand, beginning to turn her face upwards to his own. She -tried to resist him, but he would not be resisted. In the end panting, -quivering, she yielded very suddenly. She lifted her face voluntarily -to his. She offered him her lips. But her eyes were closed. She -palpitated like a trapped thing in his hold. - -Yet when his lips met hers, she returned his kiss; and it was for the -first time in her life. - -She slept that night in the shelter of his arms, safe from the desolate -emptiness of her desert. And if she dreamed that she had gone back into -the house of bondage for the sake of the fire that burned there, the -dream did not distress her, nor did the fire scorch. Rather the warmth -of it filled her lonely spirit with such comfort as she had long ceased -to hope for. And the steady beat of a man's heart lulled her to a -deeper rest. - -When the dim dawnlight came filtering in, Jake's eyes turned to meet it -with a lynx-like watchfulness as of an animal on guard. There was no -sleep in them. He had not slept all through the night. His face was -grim and still, and there was a hint of savagery--or was it -irony?--about his mouth. For the second time in their lives Fate had -driven her to him for refuge. Like a bird out of the storm she had come -to him, perchance but for that one night's shelter. Already a contrary -wind was blowing that might sunder them forever. With the coming of the -day, they might drift apart and meet no more at all, so slender was the -bond between them, so transient their union. For he knew that she loved -him not, had never loved him. - -His eyes grew harder, brighter. They shone with a great and bitter -hunger. He turned them upon her sleeping face. And then magically they -softened, grew pitiful, grew tender. For though she slept, the veil was -lifted, and he read the sadness of her soul. - -His lips suddenly trembled as he looked upon her, and the irony went out -of him like an evil spirit. Whether she loved him or loved him not, she -was his, she was his, till the storm wind drove her from him. - -And she needed him as she needed no one else on earth. - -His arms clasped her. He gathered her closer to his breast. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV - - THE GREAT BURDEN - - -"By Jove!" said Bunny, in a voice of awe. "I never thought of that! -Then--Maud--will be rich, will she? Rich as Croesus! Just think of it! -Maud!" He drew a deep breath that ended in a whistle. "Puts a -different complexion on things, eh, Jake, old feller?" he said. - -"Quite different," said Jake. - -He stood at the window, gazing forth into the murky atmosphere with his -brows drawn. He looked like a man searching the far distance. - -Bunny glanced at him questioningly. "What does she say to it? Was it a -great shock?" - -"I don't know. I think it was. She said he once offered to provide for -the two of you, and leave you provided for at his death. But that was -before her marriage." - -"And now he's gone and left her the whole caboodle! Say, Jake, what's it -come to? Did the lawyer chap give you any idea?" - -"No one knew what the old man was worth," Jake said, with his eyes still -fixed steadily ahead. "He wasn't very great at spending money. But he -owned a large factory, and had a vested interest in several others, -besides some thousands in other concerns. The lawyer put it down at not -less than two hundred and fifty thousand." - -"Jake!" Bunny began to execute an ecstatic war dance behind him. - -Jake wheeled sharply. "Don't do that here, Bunny! It's not decent." - -Bunny stopped. "Oh, sorry, Jake! I forgot. But aren't you pleased, -old feller? You don't look it. Or is it just decency on your part?" - -"I'm pleased she's got enough to live on, yes," Jake said. "I don't -know that a whole pile is specially good for anyone. And now look here, -young chap! I'm going back directly after the funeral--I've got to -go--and you're to stay and take care of her." - -Bunny's face fell. "Oh, I say, Jake, I'd sooner come with you." - -"That may be." Jake smiled momentarily. "But you've got to do as -you're told. See?" - -Bunny looked mutinous. "But she won't want me, Jake. She'll be much too -busy. And this is such a beastly hole. And there's the hunting. You -promised I might hunt these holidays. Oh, I can't stick here. I shall -only be in the way." His eyes flashed sudden rebellion. "Can't and -won't, Jake!" he said boldly, "so that's settled." - -He stood and defied Jake openly for an instant, then flung round with a -dogged air and walked away. - -Jake remained motionless watching him. "Say, Bunny!" he said after a -moment, his voice very soft and drawling. - -Bunny came to a stand before the fire which he poked with considerable -violence. He did not turn his head. - -"Put that thing down!" The order came from the further end of the room, -but he obeyed it. - -There fell a brief silence, then from his post by the window Jake spoke. -"You can do as you like about it. You can come back with me to the -Stables. But you'll do all your riding on a leading-string if you do. -And if you hunt, it'll be on foot." - -Bunny's face flamed scarlet. "Jake, you're a beast!" he said. - -"Oh, I can do beastlier things than that," Jake said. "I can give you -one hell of a time, my son. I'm dashed ingenious in that respect when I -give my mind to it." - -Bunny growled something deep in his throat, and kicked the coals with a -savage foot. - -Jake turned deliberately round, and looked at him, watched him with the -utmost patience till he desisted; then, - -"Come here now," he said, "and have your head punched!" - -Bunny growled again less articulately, more ferociously. - -Jake left the window. The boy wheeled to meet him with the glare of a -tiger. "Touch me if you dare!" he exclaimed. - -There was a faint, relentless smile on Jake's face. He took Bunny by -the shoulders, and looked him full and straight in the eyes. - -Bunny stood before him for a space, with clenched hands. Then he dropped -his own eyes sullenly before that stern regard--slowly lowered his head. -There fell a tense silence; then: "Get on with it, Jake!" he said in a -voice half-sulky, half-submissive. And Jake abruptly moved, struck him -twice lightly on the side of the head. "That's for using the forbidden -language," he said. "And that's for general fooling around. A taste of -the leather would do you good, only I can't leather a jolly little -cock-sparrow like you. Don't you think you're rather a fool, Bunny? I -do." - -"I'm a damn' cad!" Bunny said with shaky vehemence, and pulled himself -away with the words. "I can't help it. I don't see much of you now. -And I do hate being left behind." - -He turned his back on Jake and leaned dejectedly against the high -mantelpiece. But Jake's arm went round his shoulders, giving him a -comforting squeeze. - -"Don't you know I'm trying to make a partner of you, my son?" he said in -his soft voice. "You needn't be so mighty difficult to handle. What -I'm on to now is more than a one-man job. I'm wanting all the help I -can get." - -Bunny laid a hot cheek against his hand. "You know I'd do anything for -you, Jake," he said. He swallowed once or twice hard and faced round. -"Anything under the sun," he said. - -Jake's hand smote him the blow of good-fellowship. "I'm counting -on--just that, sonny," he said. - -He turned round with the words. Someone was entering the room. - -"Hullo!" said Bunny. "Hullo, Maud!" - -He moved to meet his sister with a curious new shyness. She looked pale, -aloof, very sad. - -"Jake has been telling you?" she said. - -Bunny nodded. "It's rather great, isn't it?" he said. - -She came slowly forward, not looking at Jake. "It's too great," she -said. "I might have been glad of it once. But now--now--" She broke -off. - -Jake drew forward a chair. "Reckon you'll find it just as useful now as -then," he said. - -She glanced at him quickly, and a tinge of colour rose in her face. -"Oh, I daresay we shall all find it useful," she said. - -Jake's expression was enigmatical. He stood up squarely, looking -straight before him. "You'll be able to buy anything and everything you -want," he said, "to live where and how you like; in short you'll be in a -position to create your own atmosphere. Money is freedom; remember -that! If you choose to buy a team of camels and trundle off into the -desert, there's no one can prevent you." - -She shivered as if a cold blast had struck her, and leaned towards the -fire. "I'm not particularly fond of the desert," she said, in a low -voice. - -"Oh, you needn't go alone," Jake said. "You'll be able to buy your -friends by the score and populate all the lonely places." - -There was no sound of scoffing in his voice. It was even not without a -hint of kindliness. But she shook her head in silence. - -And suddenly Bunny knelt down beside her, thrusting an impetuous arm -about her waist. "Say, Maud, he's only rotting. We'll have a ripping -time together presently. Don't be so down in the mouth, old girl! -There's plenty of fun to be got out of life." - -She smiled with lips that trembled. "I'm afraid I'm getting rather old, -Bunny," she said wistfully, "old enough anyhow to know that money -doesn't bring happiness." - -"Depends how you spend it," maintained Bunny stoutly. "Of course it is a -downright curse to the people who hoard it--like that beast who buried -his talent. But you can make any amount of happiness out of it if you -try. Think of the crowds you can reach with it! That's where the fun -comes in. Why, you reap as fast as you sow!" - -Maud made a sudden quick gesture. "Bunny! How curious that you should -say that!" - -"Why?" Bunny opened his eyes in surprise. - -"Oh, never mind! It reminded me of something--something rather big--I -once heard in a church here." Maud gently passed on as though it were a -matter too sacred for discussion. "Perhaps you're right, dear. Perhaps -there is happiness to be got out of it. Anyhow we'll try, won't we? -Won't we, Jake?" - -There was almost a note of entreaty in her voice; but she received no -answer. She turned sharply. Jake had gone. - -"Never mind!" said Bunny, quick to console. "He's busy. Letters or -something. But you've got me. Say, Maud, you'll be able to keep the -mother above water now. That's rather a mercy anyway." - -He almost forced her into the channel of his own cheery speculations -with the reflection that if it wasn't decent at least it was wholesome. - -But when he looked back upon that talk with her later, he could not -remember that she had made a single suggestion of her own, or displayed -the smallest spark of enthusiasm in connection with the great fortune -that had come to her. She was tired of course and sad. No doubt she -would change her mind; but for the present she seemed to regard it only -in the light of a new and heavy burden that had been laid upon her. -Bunny could not understand it, but an uneasy wonder awoke and stirred in -his heart. Was it because she was married to Jake that she felt it had -come too late? If so--if so--well, if so, poor old Jake! - - - - - CHAPTER XXV - - THE BLOW - - -"Home for Christmas. Motoring from Graydown. Three cheers, Bunny." - -The ecstatic message stood on the mantelpiece in the old parlour above a -roaring fire, and Jake stood in front of it, grimly patient, while the -old grandfather clock ticked monotonously in the corner. - -It was Christmas Eve, still and frosty. The glass door into the garden -was wide open so that he could hear the first hoot of a motor, and he -was listening for it with a lynx-like intensity, a concentration that -had in it something almost terrible. It was nearly a fortnight since he -had left her, and all his veins were on fire at the thought of having -her again. He yearned for her with a fierce hunger that tore at the -very soul of him, a hunger that he knew he must suppress, crush down out -of sight, ere he met her. - -Because in her desolation she had turned to him for comfort, he must not -take it for granted that she needed him still. She had had time to -recover, time possibly to be amazed, to be shocked, at her own yielding. -He dreaded to see that instinctive recoil from him which he had learned -to know so cruelly well in the summer that was dead. Those words of -hers--"I can't pretend to love you. You see--I don't,"--still haunted -him. And he remembered how once in bitterness of soul she had told him -that she hated him. - -He clenched his hands over the memory, cursing himself for the passion -that even now leaped so fiercely within him. She had changed towards him -since those days; that he knew. But even though she turned to him she -was half afraid of him still, and he dared not show her his heart. He -must be calm and temperate, taking only what she offered, lest he should -drive her away again. It might be she would never offer very much. -Possibly it did not lie in her power. She had given her whole love to -another man, and it had been crushed into the mud. It might be that it -still lived there in quivering shame, a thing to be hidden if it could -not be utterly destroyed. He could not tell. But he did not feel that -his chance of winning to the heart of her was very great. It might be -that when she came to realize the practically boundless power with which -this great fortune endowed her, it would vanish altogether. True, he -might put up a fight for his rights. He might insist upon his -ownership. But--had he not already done that? And what had it brought -him? Nothing but emptiness. The desire of the flesh was nothing to the -aching longing of the spirit, and that could never be satisfied by such -means. And she did not so much as know that it existed! - -He had dreamed once that a child might draw them together. But now--but -now--a curiously wistful smile drew his mouth. Poor girl! She wanted a -child to comfort her desolation. But if she had her wish, he knew that -she would never turn to him again for comfort. His last chance would be -gone. - -Someone knocked at the open door that led into the garden. He turned -sharply and saw Sam Vickers' good-humoured countenance looking up at -him. - -"Post just in, sir," he remarked. "I was comin' round so brought your -letter along." - -"Oh, thanks! Come in!" - -Jake remained before the fire, and after an instant's hesitation Sam -mounted the steps and entered. He was carrying a huge bunch of -mistletoe in one hand. - -"Thought you'd like a bit, sir," he said, with a cheery smile. "You -haven't got any decorations, I see." - -"Thanks!" Jake said again. "I don't know where you'll fix it." - -"Over the front door, sir, if you ask me," said Sam promptly. - -"Oh, no, not there, Sam! It's a bit too public. Over this door if you -like." Jake smiled a little and began to open his letter. - -"All right, sir. I'll get a nail," said Sam. - -He departed, and Jake, with a face grown stern, proceeded to read his -letter. - -When Sam returned, the letter had disappeared, and Jake was grinding at -the fire with the poker with his head down and a deep red flush on his -face. Sam noticed nothing. He was too much engrossed with the matter -in hand. - -Mounted on a wooden chair and whistling softly he applied himself to the -task of hanging the mistletoe at the most inviting angle. - -"Like a bit for your cap, sir?" he enquired, with an impudent grin, when -he had finished. - -Jake made no reply. - -Sam threw him a glance, and found that he had turned and was standing -with his back to the fire, gazing out before him with eyes that shone -like two pieces of red quartz. - -Sam was momentarily disconcerted. "No offence meant, sir," he said, -picking up his own cap, and hastening somewhat clumsily to conceal the -decoration it bore. - -Jake's eyes came to him, regarded him for a moment fiercely without -seeing him; then abruptly softened and took him in. "Sam," he said, "I -trust you, and I'm going to tell you something. Shut that door!" - -Sam obeyed. He looked straight at Jake with sunny, honest eyes. -"Hadn't you better think it over first, sir?" he suggested. - -"No." Jake held out his hand suddenly. "I trust you," he repeated, a -dogged note in his voice. - -Sam's hand gripped his like a vice. "Right you are, sir," he said -cheerily. - -Jake went on, as if impelled. "You remember what happened in the summer -at the Graydown Meeting when I thrashed young Stevens?" - -"Quite well, sir." Sam's reply came brisk and smart. He held himself -like a soldier on parade. - -"You know why I thrashed him?" Jake proceeded. - -"Yes, sir. Thrashed him and kicked him out, sir. I was never more -pleased in my life," said Sam. - -"He's been employed at the Castle stables ever since," Jake said very -bitterly. "I was a fool! a damn' fool--not to expose him. But Lord -Saltash knew that he pulled the Albatross. I told him so. He now says -that he has proof that I aided and abetted--proof enough to get me -warned off the Turf." - -"Proof be damned, sir!" said Sam warmly. "That ain't a good enough -story for anyone with a head on his shoulders to swallow." - -"No, Sam. You're right. And Lord Saltash knows it. I can't go to him -and demand to see his proof because he's on the other side of the world. -But there's no scotching a lie of that sort. It'll have spread like the -plague long before he gets back. And meantime he has decided that -horse-racing and breeding are no longer his fancy, and he is going to -sell the Stud--and me along with it." - -Jake's mouth took a bitter, downward curve with the last words. - -Sam's jaw dropped. "Going to sell the Stud, sir?" - -Jake nodded. "Yes, before the Spring meetings. You'll be all right, -Sam. Anyone would be glad to get you. The Stewards know you all -right." - -"Oh, I wasn't thinking of that, sir. I was thinking of you." Sam's -blue eyes were gravely troubled. "You've got a wife, sir." - -"My wife inherits her uncle's money. She is not dependent upon -me--fortunately for her." Jake was speaking through set teeth. "I knew -it was coming," he added. "I've known it for some weeks." His eyes -suddenly glittered afresh. "It ain't a knock-out blow, Sam," he said. -"Don't you make any mistake as to that!" - -Sam's eyes sparkled in response. "It's you that's the knock-out, sir," -he said, with eager partisanship. "He hits below the belt, but he won't -down you that way. You're better known than I am. And no one will -believe as you're not straight. If I was to hear any chap say a single -word against you, why, I'd crack his skull for him. I would that--if it -was Saltash himself!" - -Jake uttered a brief laugh. "No. You steer clear of Saltash! He's one -too many for honest men." - -"He's a dirty swab!" said Sam, and spat into the fire with fervour. "He -ain't fit to employ anyone except Dick Stevens and the likes of him. I -often wondered who squared Dick that time, but it wouldn't surprise me -now if--" He paused, looking at Jake interrogatively. - -But the latter's face had changed, changed magically, as though some -transforming hand had touched it, wiping all the bitterness away. - -He looked at Sam with a dawning smile in his eyes. "Good night, my lad!" -he said. "I must go." - -He went to the door with the words and opened it. There came the sound -of a motor-horn without, the gay whoop of a boyish voice. Jake's spurs -went jingling down the passage. - -And Sam turned to leave by the garden-door by which he had entered. He -crammed his cap down over his eyes as he did so. "Poor old boss!" he -said. "Poor--old--boss!" - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI - - THE DEED OF GIFT - - -"Oh, isn't it good to be home again?" said Bunny. "Isn't it just good?" - -They sat before the blazing fire in the parlour after a late supper, -drinking Mrs. Lovelace's rhubarb wine and enjoying the glow. - -Maud's cheeks were flushed and her eyes very bright. She did not look at -her husband very often, and there was that about her manner that seemed -to suggest that she was striving against considerable odds to appear at -her ease. - -"How are the animals, Jake?" she asked. "How is The Hundredth Chance?" - -Jake on the other side of the fire was lying back in his chair with a -cigarette between his lips. His gaitered legs were stretched out before -him, and eyes fixed downwards as if he were half-asleep. He did not -stir from this attitude as he made reply. - -"They're all going strong. You must see them for yourself in the -morning." - -His words did not seem to invite any further development of the subject. -Perhaps he really was sleepy. Maud bent to fondle Chops who lay on the -hearth at her feet, and asked no more. - -But Bunny at once plunged into the silence. He had not permitted any -silences during supper, having plainly determined that the evening -should not drag. He also was a little fevered in his animation, a fact -which made Jake's absolute calmness of demeanour all the more marked. He -had been getting quieter and quieter ever since the removal of the -supper things. - -Bunny fought against this quietness, talking with a nervous excitement -that elicited only occasional low replies from Maud and none at all from -Jake. - -But it was Jake who finally at the striking of the clock broke in upon -his insistent chatter. "Time you went to bed, my son. Say good night -and go!" - -A quick word sprang at once to Bunny's lips, but Jake's hand abruptly -gripped his knee hard and he swallowed it unspoken. He got up with a -somewhat wry smile. - -"Yes, all right. I'll go. But I don't generally clear out before -eleven, do I, Maud?" - -"You do in my house, whatever you do in Maud's," said Jake -imperturbably. "Good night, my son! pleasant dreams to you!" - -He looked up at Bunny with a sudden, kindly smile, and Bunny bent -impulsively to him. - -"Say, Jake, come and see me presently, when--when you come up yourself!" - -The request was proffered in an undertone with unmistakable nervousness. -Jake looked him straight in the eyes. - -"All right," he said. - -The door closed upon Bunny, and there fell a silence. - -Maud sat very still, her hands clasped in her lap. But there was no -repose in her attitude, only a dumb tension that seemed to indicate -suspense. - -Jake leaned forward slowly, at length, took the cigarette from his mouth -and dropped it into the heart of the fire. Then, without looking at her, -he spoke. - -"What's the matter with the little chap?" - -She looked across at him quickly, from beneath eyelids that slightly -fluttered. "Is there anything the matter with him? I didn't notice." - -"He was nearly crying when he said good night, anyway," said Jake. - -"Oh, was he! Perhaps he thought--perhaps he thought--you were vexed -with him," murmured Maud. - -"Why should he think that?" Jake's eyes, piercingly bright, suddenly -met hers. - -She winced involuntarily, as one might wince from the glare of a -searchlight. Then, with a visible effort, she met them. "Jake," she -said, "I--want to talk to you." - -Jake's eyes fell away from her. They went with a sombre directness to -the fire and became fixed. "About your affairs, my girl?" he said. - -She hesitated momentarily; then: "Our affairs, Jake," she said, her -voice very low. - -He jerked his head as if to indicate attention, but he said nothing -further. It remained for her to proceed, and she did so, slowly, as if -carefully weighing each word. - -"You have left me a free hand in the settling of Uncle Edward's affairs, -and Mr. Craven is a very clever business man. I know Uncle Edward -trusted him implicitly. But I should like you to know everything that -has been done--that is, if you care to know." She paused a moment. -"You do care, don't you, Jake?" she said. - -"I care for your welfare, my girl," he made answer. "Not being your -trustee, it's not essential that I should be told every detail." - -"I wish you were a trustee," she said. - -He bent his head. "Thanks. But I don't know that I am especially well -suited to be. It's better for you, I reckon, to have--a free hand. And -it's a mighty lot better that you should have a man of education to -attend to your business affairs." - -"Jake!" There was quick pain in her voice, pain that he could not fail -to note. She leaned forward, stretching a hand to him across the -hearth. "Jake!" she said again very earnestly. "Do you think -that--that I shall ever forget--that I owe you--everything?" - -He took her hand, but with a curious doggedness he kept his eyes -averted. "I guess we're quits," he said. "You don't owe me anything. -I took my payment for all I ever gave you." - -There was no bitterness in his voice, no emotion of any sort. The clasp -of his fingers was no more than kind. His mouth looked stubborn. - -But a strange sort of stubbornness seemed to have entered into Maud -also. She kept her hand in his. - -"I take--another view," she said. "I don't think any man--has ever -done--more for a woman--than you have done--for me." Haltingly the -words came, but she spoke them bravely. "It's a big, big debt, -Jake--immeasurably big,--a personal debt that can never be repaid. I -feel--contemptible--whenever I think of it." Her voice shook. - -Jake's fingers closed upon hers with a quiet strength. "You've no call -to feel like that," he said. - -Her hand clung to his suddenly, desperately. "You--believe in me, -Jake?" she whispered. - -His face did not vary. "I guess I've proved that," he said very -steadily. - -She uttered a sharp, catching sigh. "Yes--yes! That is another debt. -But till--till that night you came to me at Uncle Edward's--I was -never--quite--sure." - -"Why weren't you sure?" He put the question abruptly, with an -insistence that demanded an instant reply. But still he did not look at -her. His eyes gazed ever straight into the fire. - -Tremulously she answered him. "I met Charlie--Lord Saltash--the morning -after--down at 'The Anchor.' He said--he said--you wouldn't be--such a -fool. That was why I went away." - -"Damn him!" The words burst from Jake with terrific violence. He -sprang to his feet as a man goaded beyond all bearing. "Curse him!" he -said, his face gone white with passion. "May his soul rot in----" - -"Jake!" The name was a cry, breaking through the fierce rush of his -fury. Maud was on her feet also. She held him by the shoulders, in a -vital, quivering hold. "You are not to say it!" she said and her face -was close to his, compelling him to silence. "You are not to curse him! -A curse comes back--comes back!" - -She put one hand on his mouth, for he seemed on the verge of breaking -forth afresh. She looked him full in the eyes. - -"You're not to, Jake!" she said. "I won't have it. You who have -been--so splendidly generous--can afford to leave a beaten enemy alone. -Ah,--Jake!" - -For his arms were round her, gripping her. The naked soul of the man -was looking into hers. With a supreme impulse, she took her hand away -and gave her lips to his, surrendered herself wholly to the fiery -passion that had suddenly blazed forth upon her. - -But in a moment his arms were loosened. He went back against the -mantelpiece as though he had been struck a blow between the eyes. He -stood motionless, his mouth working but uttering no word. - -She stood before him, pale to the lips but not without a certain -strength. She had offered, and he had not taken. But yet her doubts -were set at rest. Perhaps for the first time in her life she faced him -wholly unafraid. - -"So--we will leave him out of it," she said, breathing fast. "He -has--ceased to count." - -Jake moved, pulled himself together. "You must forgive me," he said. -"Maybe you'd be wise to leave me I shall be--saner--presently." - -She put one hand against his breast. "No, Jake, no. You're going to be -sane now. Sit down again! Let us finish our talk!" - -He looked at her with the red light still smouldering in his eyes. -After a moment he took her wrist with a grip in which passion lingered. -"I'm trying to act fair by you, my girl," he said, with a faint smile -that somehow touched her heart. "It seems to me you've never had a -chance--not a real chance--all your life. What with Bunny--and -me--and--and--Saltash"--his mouth twisted over the name--"you've been -handicapped right and left. That's why I've sworn to myself that I -won't interfere with you anymore. You shall have a free hand--a free -hand. This money of yours makes it possible. Play with it, spend it, -enjoy yourself! Be happy, my girl, be happy! I won't step in to -prevent it." - -Maud's eyes were suddenly full of tears, yet she laughed. "You've sworn -to give me a free hand?" she said. - -He nodded. "Sure." - -Her other hand clasped his quickly, pleadingly. "Then, Jake, you won't -be angry if--if--I decide to do something that--that you may -not--altogether--like?" - -"It's your money," said Jake doggedly. - -"Yes--yes. And--I have your permission--your unreserved consent--to--to -do what I like with it?" - -Her voice quivered. She was clinging to him almost unconsciously. - -He stood steadily facing her. He had forced his passion down again, but -there was tension about him still. "My girl," he said, "if you want to -turn it all into paper and make a bonfire of it,--I shan't object." - -"Oh, I don't want to do that," she said, and again she faintly laughed -though in her laughter there was a sound of tears. "I felt just at -first--just at first--that I didn't want it. But I've got over that, -though I've come to the conclusion that there's no fun to be got out of -money unless there's someone to enjoy it with you. And so--and so--" -she became a little breathless and her hands pressed his in -agitation--"I'm making over half of it to you--by deed of gift. Please, -Jake, please--you don't mind?" - -"What?" said Jake. He raised his tawny brows, staring at her for an -instant in sheer, overwhelming amazement; then they came down -uncompromisingly in a thick straight line above his eyes. He put her -hands away from him gently but with the utmost decision. He turned -himself from her and bent to pick up the poker. Then, as he stirred the -fire, with his face in the glow he spoke briefly, almost roughly. "I -don't know if you're joking or in earnest; but that's the one thing that -I can't--and won't--consent to. So I reckon that's all there is to it." - -"Jake!" There was consternation in her voice, bitter disappointment, -keen pain. "Oh, Jake," she said, "you can't mean to refuse--like that!" - -"How did you expect me to refuse?" said Jake, without turning. - -She answered him chokingly. "Not as if--as if--I had insulted you." - -He dropped the poker and straightened himself. "Maybe you didn't intend -any insult," he said. "But you don't credit me with an over-allowance -of self-respect, do you?" - -She did not answer him, for she could not. She stood fighting for -self-control, striving to collect her scattered forces, but so -overwhelmingly distressed that she could not attempt to withstand him. - -He turned round to her slowly at length. "Say, Maud," he said, -something of the old kindliness in his tone, "we won't talk any more -about it. Guess it's an impossible subject. You'll know me better next -time." - -She struggled for utterance with lips that trembled piteously; her eyes -were brimming with tears. Finally, with a small, hopeless gesture, she -turned away, moved across the room blindly, found the door and -fumblingly opened it. - -"Good night!" she whispered then in a voice that was scarcely audible, -and in another moment the door closed without sound behind her. - -She was gone. Jake's mouth set itself in a hard, straight line. He -squared his shoulders with the instinctive movement of a man facing -odds. He began to feel with brutal deliberation for his cigarette-case. - -The rasp of his match made a short, indignant sound in the quiet room. -It was like a sharp protest. The smell of his tobacco began to dominate -the atmosphere. He smoked furiously. - -Suddenly there came a check. The cigarette had ceased to draw. He -ground his teeth on it, turned, and spat it into the flames. It hissed -and vanished. - -Then Jake abruptly lifted his clenched hands above, his head and swore a -frightful oath that comprehended himself, the world, and all things in -it, in one vast anathema. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII - - THE IMPOSSIBLE - - -"Say, Jake, are you going to spend the night downstairs?" Bunny's thin, -eager face peered round the door with the words. He slipped into the -room clad in pyjamas, his hair all ruffled on his forehead. - -Jake was sitting before a burnt-out fire. He looked round at Bunny with -heavy eyes. - -"Were you asleep?" said Bunny. - -"No." He got up stiffly. "Just--thinking. What have you come down -for?" - -Bunny glanced at the clock. "Why, you said you'd come and see me in -bed, and it's long past midnight. I've been lying awake for ages." He -pressed close to Jake, reproach mingling with a touch of apprehension in -his eyes. "Fact is,--I--wanted to tell you something. But I've got cold -now. I don't know that I shall, after all." - -Jake put a hand on his shoulder. "I shouldn't, my son," he said. "I -should cut back to bed if I were you. I give you a free pardon, -whatever it is. There! Good night!" - -But Bunny refused to be dismissed thus perfunctorily. "You treat me like -a child, Jake," he grumbled. "It's not fair. I'd sooner be pitched -into than that." - -Jake smiled faintly. "Well, what's the matter?" he said. - -Bunny's eyes gleamed a little. "It's just this. I expect you'll be -savage, but you've got to know. Maud knows all about the Stud and -everything. She was bound to know sooner or later, so I don't see that -it greatly matters. But I'd no right to tell her. And I did." - -He ended on a note of defiance. His penitence had plainly not survived -his long-drawn-out suspense. - -But Jake heard him without any sign of displeasure. "Betrayed my -confidence, eh?" he said. "Well, I reckon that's a matter for your -conscience, not mine." - -Bunny bit his lip. "You ought to have told her yourself, Jake," he -said. - -Jake nodded. He seemed to be past all feeling that night. "I know that. -But she had plenty to think of without worrying herself about my -affairs. Anyway she knows now." - -"Yes. Knows you're thinking of going to America, Jake." Eagerly Bunny -broke in. "And she's jolly sick about it, I can tell you. She doesn't -want you to go." - -"Oh, doesn't she?" said Jake. - -Bunny seized his arm and shook it. "Jake, surely you won't go! She's -rich enough to keep us all. She wants to share everything with you." - -"Oh, yes." Jake's voice was dead level. His eyes looked at Bunny, but -they saw beyond him. "I know all about that. I know--just what she -wants. She wants a watchdog, one that'll fetch and carry and accept all -benefits with humility. She's lonely now; but she won't be lonely long. -She'll have a crowd round her--a set of fashionable, gibbering monkeys, -who will sneer at the watch-dog, the meek and patient hanger-on, the -adjunct at every party, who lives on his mistress's smile and doesn't -object to her kick. That's what she wants. And that, my son, is the -one thing she's not going to get." - -"But what on earth do you want, Jake?" burst from Bunny, half-startled, -half-exasperated. "You needn't be that. You never could be that. Her -idea was to make you independent." - -"Oh yes, I know." Jake's mouth twisted a little. "She is mighty -generous. She figured to hand over half her fortune by deed of gift." - -"And you wouldn't have it?" Bunny almost gasped. - -"I wouldn't touch it," Jake said, with a sound that was oddly like a -suppressed laugh in his throat. - -"But why in wonder not?" Bunny stared at him as if he thought he had -gone suddenly mad. "We've taken oceans of things from you." - -"That's different," said Jake. - -"How different? Make me understand, Jake! I've a right to understand." -Bunny's voice was imperious. - -Jake looked at him. There was actually a smile in his eyes, but it was -a smile of self-ridicule. "You asked me just now what I wanted," he -said. "I'll tell you. I want a woman who loves me well enough to chuck -up everything--everything, mind you--and follow me barefoot to the other -end of the world." He broke into a laugh that seemed to hurt him. "And -that," he said, "is the one thing I'm not going to get. Now do you -understand?" - -"Not quite, Jake. Not quite." Bunny spoke almost diffidently. He -looked back at Jake with awe in his eyes. "You think she doesn't love -you well enough. Is that it?" - -Jake nodded, still with that smile of self-mockery about his mouth. -"You've hit it, my son," he said. "We're not a pair, that's the -trouble. She means to be kind, but I'd sooner go empty than be fed on -husks. I didn't offer either of you that. It was the real thing I gave -you. But she--she hasn't the real thing to offer. And so--I'll do -without." - -He turned squarely to put out the waning lamp as though the discussion -were ended, but Bunny stayed him with a nervous hand. - -"Jake, suppose you're wrong, old boy? Suppose she does care--care -badly?" His voice quivered with earnestness. "Women are queer fishes, -you know, Jake. Suppose you've made a mistake?" - -"Where's the use of supposing the impossible?" asked Jake sombrely. Yet -he paused, his hand rubbing the boy's rough head caressingly. - -"Ah, but just for a moment," Bunny insisted. "If she loved you, Jake, -you wouldn't refuse then to--to do what she wanted?" - -"If she loved me," Jake said, and stopped suddenly. He moved abruptly to -the lamp and extinguished it. Then in the dim light that filtered -through the blinds from a full moon of frosty radiance, he spoke, -deeply, slowly, solemnly. "If she loved me, I would accept anything -under the sun from her. Everything she had would be mine. Everything -of mine would be hers. And--before God--I would make her happy--if she -loved me." He drew a great breath that seemed to burst from the very -heart of him. Then in a moment he turned aside. "But that's the -impossible, Bunny," he said. "And now good night!" - -They went upstairs together, and parted in the passage. Bunny seemed too -awed for speech. Only he hugged Jake hard for a moment before he went -to his own room. - -Jake passed on to his. Utter silence reigned there. He lighted a -candle, and went softly to the door that led into his wife's room. It -was shut. Softly he turned the handle, pressed a little; softly he -turned it back. The door was locked. - -Then he threw off his clothes, blew out the candle, and lay down alone. - -And all through the night he was listening to words uttered over and -over above his head, like evil spirits whispering together. - -"I can't pretend to love you. You see--I don't." - -He realized now that she had been right. It was better not to pretend! -It was better not to pretend! - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII - - THE FIRST OF THE VULTURES - - -Christmas Day was a farce in which Jake, Maude and Bunny each played -their appointed parts with somewhat dreary zest. The brother and sister -had drawn much closer to each other during the past fortnight in which -they had been thrown together. The old quick understanding, the old -comradeship, had revived between them, and on Bunny's part there was -added to it a certain protectiveness that created a new and even more -intimate element in their intercourse. In a fashion their positions -were reversed. Maud leaned upon him as he once had leaned upon her, and -his sturdy support comforted her sick heart. - -As for Jake, he went his way among his animals, spending his time almost -exclusively with them during that day and the days that followed. He -was very quiet, invariably kind, but there was about him a suggestion of -strain behind his composure, a hint of something terrible, as of a man -hiding a mortal wound. He never talked about the animals now, and he -did not welcome even Bunny in the stables. - -"He's fretting his heart out over them," the boy said, and Maud knew -that he spoke the truth. The thought of the coming parting with them -hurt him to the soul. - -Sam Vickers knew this also, and watched him in mute sympathy. He would -have given all he had to avert this bitter blow from the boss, but he -could only stand and look on. - -It was on the last day in the year, a biting, sunless day, that he -sought him late in the afternoon with a visiting card in his hand. - -Jake was leaning on the half-door of the loose-box in which was lodged -the black colt of his dreams--The Hundredth Chance. The animal's head -was nuzzled against his shoulder. There seemed to be a perfect -understanding between them. - -But at sight of Sam the colt started back. He was suspicious of all the -world but Jake. - -Jake looked round, his face grey in the failing light. "Hullo! What is -it?" - -Sam came forward and gave him the card. "Mrs. Bolton was out, sir, and -he asked for you; said he'd wait in the yard, sir." - -Jake bent his brows over the card. It bore a name that seemed vaguely -familiar to him though in what connection he could not for the moment -recall:--Monterey W. Rafford. Jake looked up. "He's no friend of mine. -Do you know what he wants?" - -"Said he was a friend of Dr. Capper, sir," said Sam. - -"Oh, that American chap! I remember now. All right, Sam. I'll see -him." Jake gently pushed back the colt's enquiring nose, closed the -upper half of the door, and strode off down the stone passage that led -to the yard. - -The visitor was standing under a lamp, a slim young man with a dark, -keen face that broke into a smile at Jake's approach. He moved to meet -him, speaking in a voice that betrayed his nationality at the first -word. - -"I am very pleased to meet you again, sir, though no doubt you have -forgotten me." - -They shook hands. Jake was looking at him with steady eyes. "No," he -said, in his slow way, "I think you are the sort of man that doesn't get -forgotten very easily." - -Rafford laughed. He had an easy, well-bred laugh. "Capper doesn't -believe in me," he said. "He declares I'll never get there. P'raps -he's right. It doesn't concern me very much either way. Anyway, I've -given up sending sick people to sleep for the present. I'm out on my -own this journey. How is your young brother-in-law? Cure complete?" - -"Absolutely." Jake was still looking at him hard. "If it's not a rude -question," he said deliberately, "is that what brought you?" - -The American met his look with a flicker of the eyes that betrayed a -hint of wariness. "It's not a rude question, Mr. Bolton," he said. -"And it is not what brought me. I'm after art treasures at the present -moment. To be particular, I'm after Saltash's wonder in marble, _The -Fallen Woman_. We did a deal over that marble, he and I, in New York -the other day. He was showing me a card-trick, and--I--spotted--the -knave." - -Rafford suddenly drawled, and Jake's eyes grew brighter. - -"Come inside!" he said. - -But Rafford shook his head. "No, not right away if you don't mind. -There's a little light left. Will you show me the animals?" - -Jake's right hand clenched on his whip. "Have you done a deal over them -too?" he said, sinking his voice very low. - -"No. But I've got an idea," Rafford said. "I'll tell you what it is -presently. You've got some valuable stock here, I'm told. Say, Mr. -Bolton, you don't object to showing me round?" - -His smile was disarming. Jake swung round on his heel without another -word. - -They went from stable to stable, inspecting one after another of Jake's -treasures, Jake himself reciting the record of each. He began the tour -almost in silence, speaking only words of bare necessity, but in some -magnetic fashion Rafford broke through his reserve. His quiet -enthusiasm reached and fired Jake. Gradually the glow kindled, the -bitterness passed from him, he became himself in his own element, he -opened his heart to the stranger because it seemed that he understood. - -It was a long inspection, and darkness was upon them before it ended. -They came last of all to the home of The Hundredth Chance, and here with -his favourite's nose tucked confidingly into his arm Jake told his -hopes, his dreams. - -Rafford listened with a sympathy that was scarcely perceptible in his -speech yet of which Jake was very strongly aware, or he had not so -expanded. Later he marvelled himself at his own candour, but at the -time it seemed wholly natural, even inevitable. By that mysterious -force which makes men know each other as comrades even from afar, he -recognized in Rafford the one quality that his soul demanded. -Circumstance had flung them together for an hour, circumstance would -part them again, but for that hour the bond of sympathy between them was -complete. - -In the end he remembered again the coming loss, the crushing failure of -all his plans, and the bitterness came down upon him afresh, an -overwhelming burden forcing him down. He fondled the colt, and with a -gentle hand closed the door upon him. "Yes," he said heavily, "given -fair treatment he'll turn out a winner, but I shan't be here to see it." - -"What's come to Saltash?" Rafford questioned. "He seems ready to throw -up everything." - -"Yes, that's him," Jake said. "But then he hasn't had the working up of -the Stud as I have. It's nothing to him to part with the animals. They -were no more than a pastime." - -"And not always a creditable pastime at that?" suggested Rafford. "I -guess you're too straight for him, Mr. Bolton. He's a crooked devil--but -a curiously likable one." He smiled as if at some reminiscence. "Well, -what's your opinion? Do you think he could be persuaded to sell this -show privately if he got a good offer?" - -Jake's reserve came down upon him like a mask. "I can't say. You'd -better go to his agent, Bishop." - -Rafford was still faintly smiling. "I've just come from him. He -practically sent me to you. I've just paid him Saltash's price for the -statue. She will be on her way to America with me in a fortnight. But -I'd like to bring off this deal before we go." - -"It doesn't rest with me," Jake said, doggedness in every line. - -"No, I know. But I'd like to feel that I've got you behind me. My -patron would like to know that." - -"Who is your patron?" Jake asked. - -"His name is Ruse. You mayn't have heard of him, but he's quite well -known in a good many circles--specially on our side. He has taken a -fancy for horse-racing and he will probably drop a lot of money over it -before he's done; that is, unless he's lucky enough to retain you for -his trainer." - -A hot gleam suddenly kindled in Jake's eyes, and as suddenly died. "I -reckon that won't be possible," he said, "Lord Saltash will see to -that." - -"Saltash may not be able to prevent it," Rafford observed quietly. -"Ruse will want a trainer, and when I tell him how your heart's in the -job, it wouldn't surprise me if he persuaded you to keep it on. You -wouldn't be very hard to persuade, I take it?" - -Jake hesitated momentarily, then passed the question by. "Is your friend -in England?" he asked. - -"He will be in England very soon after the deal is completed--if it is -completed," Rafford answered. - -"Won't he want to see the Stud first?" Jake's voice was quietly -business-like. He seemed to have put all personal considerations away. - -"I doubt it." Rafford said. "The value of the Stud is well-known, -and--to let you into a secret--he is mad keen on securing it. You won't -tell Saltash that of course, or Bishop, who, I understand, is empowered -to act on his behalf. But I think Saltash will get his price without -much haggling. My patron is particularly anxious to prevent the Stud -coming on the market. He is prepared to offer something better than a -market price to make sure of it." - -"He must be a very remarkable man," observed Jake. - -"He is, sir; a very remarkable man, a man who never misses his -opportunities. And in consequence he is on the whole very seldom a -loser. It would be a great mistake to let him slip through your -fingers--a very great mistake." - -Rafford spoke with earnestness. His dark face was alight with -eagerness. - -Jake looked at him, faintly smiling. "You have an interest at stake?" -he suggested. - -"Only the interest that makes me want to push a thing to success. I -have full powers though." Rafford's face reflected his smile. "When my -patron got news of this thing, shall I tell you what he said to me? -Just 'Clinch!' I shall go to Bishop to-morrow, and carry oat those -instructions, if I can, to the letter." - -"You won't do it in a day," Jake said. "Maybe you'd like to put up at -my place pending negotiations." - -Rafford's hand came out to him with impulsive friendliness. "No, sir. -You're more than kind, but I won't do that. I've seen the animate and -I've seen you. That's enough. You and I mustn't get too intimate over -this deal. You know what Saltash is. When we've pulled it off, I'll be -delighted--if there's still time." He gripped Jake's hand hard, looking -him straight in the face. "You've given me a real happy hour, Mr. -Bolton," he said. "And I shan't forget it. It was mighty generous of -you, considering you regarded me as the first of the vultures. Well, I -hope I shall be the last. So long!" - -"So long!" Jake said. "I hope you will." - -He accompanied the young man to the gate, and watched him go. - -Then squarely he came back again, walked straight up the middle of the -yard, looking neither to right nor left, went into his own house, and -shut the door. - -Late that night when Maud rose to go upstairs, he came out of what had -apparently been a heavy doze before the fire and spoke for the first -time of his own affairs. - -"Bunny told you some time ago that the Stud was to be sold, I believe?" -he said. - -Maud stood still on the hearth, looking down at him. The question -evidently startled her, for her breath came suddenly faster. "Yes, he -told me," she said. - -"Why didn't you tell me you knew?" said Jake. And then he saw that his -abruptness had agitated her and leaned forward to take her hand. - -She suffered him to take it, but she was trembling from head to foot. -"I didn't think--you wished me to know," she said. - -He bent his head slightly so that only the shining copper of his hair -met her look. "It wasn't--that," he said slowly. "At least not at -first. Just at first I didn't want to bother you. Afterwards,--well, I -guess I'm an independent sort of cuss and I was afraid you'd want to -finance me when you knew I was to be kicked out." - -"I did want to, Jake," she said quickly. - -He nodded. "I know. I was mighty ungracious over it. I've been sorry -since." - -"Jake!" She stooped a little, a quick dawning of hope in her pale face; -but he kept his head bent. - -"No," he said. "The answer is still No. I don't want to hurt your -feelings any, but I can't live on any one's charity. If there's -anything under the sun that I can do to serve you, I'll do it. But I -can't do the pet-dog business. For one thing I'm not ornamental enough. -And for another, it ain't my nature." - -He paused a moment, but Maud made no attempt to speak. Only the hope -had all died out of her face, and she looked unutterably tired. - -Jake went on. "Just when your uncle died, you were feeling extra -lonely, and--" his voice sank a little--"you turned to me for comfort. -But I didn't flatter myself that I had become permanently necessary to -you. I knew you never intended me to think that. I saw it directly we -met again. You fancied yourself under an obligation to me. You were -willing--because of that--to give me anything I wanted. But it's come -to this. What I really want is not in your power to give, and I can't -accept less. For that reason, I've got to live in my own house, not in -yours. I don't want you to feel bound to live with me, I know my -setting never was good enough for you either. You can come to me just -sometimes, and I shall be honoured to receive you. But I'd like you to -know that you are absolutely free to come or go. I'm not insisting on -my rights, just because I've learnt that it doesn't make for happiness -on either side." - -Again he paused, but still she did not speak. - -Quietly he resumed. "That brings me to what I set out to tell you about -the Stud. There is a chance--I think it's a good one--that it may be -kept together after all. There is also a chance--a less promising -one--that I may be retained as trainer. If I am offered the post, I -shall accept it. If I am not offered the post, well, I shall have to -start again at the beginning. I shall have to rough it. So if that -happens, you will have to go your way and I mine." - -He ceased to speak, and his hand relinquished hers. - -Maud stood up. She was no longer trembling, but she was very pale. - -"I hope you will get the post," she said, after a moment. "You--I think -you would feel it if you had to part with the horses. They mean--so -much to you." - -"I belong to 'em," Jake said simply. - -She smiled a little with lips that quivered. "Then I hope you will have -them always," she said. "Good night--and thank you for being -so--explicit." She looked at his bent head, stretched a hand above it -almost as if she would touch it, then drew it swiftly back and turned to -go. - -A few seconds later she was ascending the stairs, still piteously -smiling, with the tears running down her face. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX - - THE DUTIFUL WIFE - - -"Well, my dearie, this is the biggest treat I've had for I don't know -how long. Sit you down and tell me all your news! Is it true, what my -Tom tells me, as you've come into a pot of money? Well, there now, I am -pleased! Put your feet on the fender, my dear! There's a cruel wind -blowing to-day. We'll have some hot buttered toast for tea." - -"I hope you're not busy, Mrs. Wright." Maud clasped the round, dumpy -form very closely for a minute. - -"Lor' no, my dear; not a bit. It's early closing to-day. Fancy your -thinking of that now! And fancy your coming to see me of all people! -Why, I feel just as if a princess had stepped out of a fairy-tale." - -"I don't feel a bit like a princess," Maud said. - -She sat down before the cheery little fire in Mrs. Wright's back parlour -and stretched out her hands to the blaze. - -The old woman hovered over her tenderly. "You look like one, my dear," -she said. "I think it's just wonderful that you should condescend to be -friendly with the likes of me." - -"Oh, Mrs. Wright, don't--please--put it like that!" Maud leaned quickly -back, turning up a face of flushed protest. "I don't like that aspect -of myself at all," she said. "I don't think I am that sort of person -indeed." - -"I always think of you as Jake's princess, dear," Mrs. Wright -maintained. "I don't see why it should distress you. I like to think -of you so." - -Maud laughed a little. "I wish you wouldn't. And I wish Jake wouldn't -either. Perhaps once I was foolish and proud, but really I have got -over that now. I am very humble, nowadays." - -"Are you happy, dearie? That's the great thing," said Mrs. Wright. - -Maud stooped again over the fire. "I'm--trying to be," she said. "I -don't succeed perhaps all the time. But--" She stopped. "Don't let us -talk about my affairs till I have heard all yours!" she said. "How is -Tom? When is he going to be married?" - -It was the signal for Mrs. Wright to plunge into personal gossip, and -she did so with zest. But she kept a motherly eye upon her visitor -notwithstanding, missing no detail of her appearance and general -demeanour. There was plenty to be said, Mrs. Wright was always voluble, -but she was not a selfish talker. She did not monopolize the -conversation, and she never lost sight of her listener. - -Maud's sympathy was quite unfeigned. She liked to hear about Mrs. -Wright's various interests, and there was a genial warmth in the -atmosphere that did her good. - -"Let me come into the kitchen with you and help you make the toast!" she -begged at length. - -And after a brief demur, Mrs. Wright consented. Tom was out and there -would be no one to disturb them. She would not have dreamed of -permitting Tom to sit down in the kitchen with Jake's princess. - -So to the kitchen they went, and finding it cosier than the parlour, -decided to remain there to partake of the meal they had prepared, Mrs. -Wright, albeit sorely against her will occupying the wooden armchair of -state, while Maud sat close to her knees on the fender. - -"You're looking very thin, dear," Mrs. Wright checked her chatter to -observe, as she put down her final cup of tea. - -"It's my nature to be thin," Maud said. - -Mrs. Wright permitted herself a more critical survey. "I wonder what -Jake thinks," she said. "I shouldn't feel happy about you if I were -Jake." - -Maud smiled faintly into the fire and said nothing. - -Mrs. Wright's plump hand stole down to her shoulder. "I hope as he's -being good to you, dearie," she murmured. - -Maud leaned back against her knee. "He is trying to be," she said. -"You know that the Stud has been sold?" - -"It really has?" said Mrs. Wright. - -"Yes, it really has. The animals were to have been sent to -Tattersall's, but a man we know--an American--came at the very beginning -of the year and made an offer on behalf of a friend of his that Lord -Saltash's agent thought too good to refuse. He has gone back to America -now, and no doubt his principal will make his appearance soon. The idea -is to build new Stables nearer to Graydown. Jake is negotiating about -some land there. It's such a pretty part, and there will have to be a -house for him too. We shall probably be allowed to stay on at the -Burchester Stables till it is all ready. Jake is hoping that it may all -be done in a year, I think," she smiled again with a hint of -wistfulness. "I think Jake is going to enjoy himself." - -"And you, dearie?" whispered Mrs. Wright, tenderly persistent. - -Maud reached up a hand to clasp hers. "I have been lost in the desert -for a long, long time, dear Mrs. Wright," she said. "But I am just -beginning to find myself." - -Mrs. Wright stooped impulsively and carried the soft hand to her lips. -"May it please the dear Lord to guide you, dear!" she said. - -"He is guiding me," Maud said with simplicity. "But I've some way to -travel yet before I reach my goal. And--it's very sandy travelling -sometimes, Mother Wright." She lifted her face with its sweet quivering -smile. "And there are stones too, sometimes," she said. "But--I'd like -you to know that I've passed the worst. I've left off yearning -for--for--the mirage. It doesn't draw me any more--at all. I've left -it all behind me,--like an evil dream and I can never, never, never be -deceived by it again." - -"My darling!" murmured Mrs. Wright very tenderly. "My darling!" - -Maud suddenly clung to her closely. "I'm beginning to find out," she -whispered tremulously, "that the thing I took for a rank weed growing -beside my path is the one flower I have always wanted in my garden. -I've tried for ever so long to uproot it, but now--but now--I'm trying -to make it grow. I want it--but this is a secret!--more than anything -else on earth." - -Mrs. Wright's own eyes were full of tears. "I am sure you will have it, -darling," she said. "I am sure--quite sure--your want will be -satisfied." - -She kissed the quivering face on her bosom and fondled the soft dark -hair. They remained so for a space not speaking; then very gently Maud -withdrew herself. - -"Did I tell you that Bunny is allowed to play hockey this term? It is -horribly dangerous--I went up to watch it last Saturday--but he enjoys -it tremendously; and they say it will do him good. He is growing fast, -getting quite a man." - -"I am very pleased to hear it," Mrs. Wright said warmly. "Dearie me, -just to think of the poor little weakly thing he was a year ago! Do you -remember that day I first looked in on you, and how you gave me them -violets? I've never forgotten it." - -Maud flushed a little. "You were so good to me, and I had been so -ungracious. I wonder you ever forgave me." - -"What rubbish, dear! What rubbish!" softly interpolated Mrs. Wright. -"I loved you from the first moment I set eyes on you that night at Giles -Sheppard's. And that reminds me. How is your mother doing now?" - -"She is living in London," Maud said. "I believe Giles Sheppard went to -Canada. She doesn't seem to trouble about him, but has settled down -quite happily in a boarding-house in Bayswater. I invested some of -Uncle Edward's money in an annuity for her. It seemed the best plan." - -"I am so glad you have got that money, dear," said Mrs. Wright simply. - -"Thank you," Maud said. "But--you know--I could have been quite happy -without it. At least I think I could. We should have had to emigrate. -And I--" she smiled momentarily, "I suppose I should have been a -cow-puncher's wife in earnest." - -"You wouldn't have liked that," said Mrs. Wright with conviction. - -"Shouldn't I? I wonder. I am beginning to think that external -circumstances haven't much to do with happiness." Maud spoke -thoughtfully. "Still--now I am used to the idea--I am glad to have the -money. Uncle Edward left all his affairs in such perfect order that -they will probably be wound up very soon now. Mr. Craven, the -solicitor, said it was one of the simplest matters he had ever had to -deal with, which is all the better for me. He is in a position to raise -almost any amount for me even now." Maud was smiling again, that faint, -half-wistful smile that had become hers. "It will be useful when it -comes to furnishing the new house, won't it?" she said. - -"My dear, you will just love that," said Mrs. Wright. "And what does -Jake say to it all? Isn't he pleased to know as you and little Sir -Bernard are provided for as befits your rank and station?" - -Maud's smile became a laugh. "Dear Mother Wright, you are -incorrigible!" she declared. "No, Jake is not over and above pleased. -I think he has a lurking fear that I want to take him away from his -horses and make him lead a life of elegant idleness. He doesn't guess -how thankful I was to know that he would not have to give them up after -all. For he loves his animals as he loves nothing else on earth." - -"Oh, tut, tut, dearie!" remonstrated Mrs. Wright. "And it really is -settled for him to keep on in his present position?" - -"Practically settled. He says he must wait and see his boss before he -regards it as a sure thing. Meantime, he is carrying out Mr. Rafford's -instructions as far as possible. He has gone over to Graydown to-day -about the building-site for the new stables. I hope he will secure it. -It is on a southern slope. It would be splendid for the animals." - -"Why, you are getting quite enthusiastic!" said Mrs. Wright, with a -chuckle. - -"I believe I am," Maud admitted. "I never thought so much of them till -it seemed that we were going to lose them. I think it would almost have -broken Jake's heart." - -"He don't keep his heart in the stables," said Mrs. Wright wisely, "nor -yet in the training-field. What, my dear, you're not thinking of going -yet? Why, it's quite early!" - -"Yes, I ought to be going," Maud said. "I like to be in first, to give -him his tea and so on. He is much too polite to say so, but I fancy he -likes it." - -"Of course he likes it, dear. And I think he's a very, very lucky man." -Mrs. Wright spoke with great emphasis. - -Maud was on her feet. She looked down at her half-laughing. "Oh, do -you? I wonder why." - -"To have such a dutiful wife, dear," said Mrs. Wright. "I hope you're -not going to spoil him, now. It would be a pity to do that." - -Maud uttered a funny little sigh. "Oh no, I shan't spoil him. He is -most careful not to take anything for granted. In fact, I sometimes -wonder--" She paused. - -"What, darling?" Mrs. Wright looked up at her with loving admiration. - -Maud's face was flushed. "Oh, nothing very much. I was only going to -say that I sometimes wonder if he has any real use for the dutiful wife -after all. I try to please him, but all he seems really to want me to -do is to please myself." - -Mrs. Wright rose up in her own resilient fashion. "Oh, there now! How -like a man!" she said. "They're as cussed as mules, my dear. But never -you mind! You'll catch him off his guard one of these days if you keep -on. And then'll be your time. You step in and take possession before -he can turn round and stop you. It's only a question of patience, dear. -It'll come. It'll come." - -Maud smiled again as she bent to kiss her. "You're such a good friend -to me," she said. "I'll be sure to take your advice--if I can." - -"God bless you, my darling!" said Mrs. Wright, with great fervour. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX - - THE LANE OF FIRE - - -An icy wind was blowing as Maud climbed the steep road by the church. -It whirled down on her with a fierceness that made quick progress out of -the question. Nevertheless, she fought valiantly against it, fearing -that Jake would have returned before her. - -It was not dark. The tearing wind had chased all clouds from the sky, -and the daylight still lingered. Ahead of her the North Star hung like -a beacon, marvellously bright. There was a smell of smoke in the air -that seemed to accentuate the bitter coldness. - -The church clock struck six as she passed it, and she sought to quicken -her steps, she did not want Jake to come in search of her. For some -reason she did not greatly want to tell him how she had been spending -the afternoon. - -Round the bend of the road the wind caught her mercilessly. She had to -battle against it with all her might to make any progress at all. It -was while she was struggling round this bend that there suddenly came to -her the sound of galloping hoofs and a man's voice wildly shouting. She -drew to one side, and stood against the hedge; and in a moment a -horseman dashed into view and thundered past her. He was lying forward -on the animal's neck, urging him like a jockey. - -He was gone like a whirlwind into the dusk, and Maud was left with a -throbbing heart that seemed to have been touched by a hand that was -icy-cold. She was nearly sure that the animal had come from the Stables -and that the man was Sam Vickers. He was not a furious rider as a rule. -What had induced him to ride like that to-night? Something was -wrong--something was wrong! The certainty of it stabbed her like a -knife. What could it be? What? What? Had Jake met with an accident? -Was Sam tearing thus madly down to Fairharbour to find the doctor? - -The strength of a great fear entered into her. She began to run up the -hill in the teeth of the wind. She had only half a mile to go. She -would soon know the worst. - -But she had not gone twenty yards before her progress was checked. She -became aware of a drifting mist all about her, a mist that made her gasp -and choke. She ran on in the face of it, but it was with failing -progress, for the further she went the more it enveloped her like the -smoke of a vast bonfire. - -The coldness at her heart became a tangible and ever-growing fear. She -tried to tell herself that the suffocating vapour blowing down on her -came from a group of ricks that stood not far from the entrance to the -Stables. Some mischievous person had fired them, and Sam had discovered -it and gone to raise the alarm. But deep within her there clamoured an -insistent something that refused to be reassured. Struggling on through -the blinding, ever-thickening smoke, the conviction forced itself upon -her that no hayricks were responsible for that headlong gallop of Sam's. -He had gone as a man going for his life. His progress had been winged -by tragedy. - -Gasping, stumbling, with terror in her soul, she fought her way on, till -a further bend in the road revealed to her the driving smoke all lurid -with the glare of flames behind. By that curve she escaped from the -direct drift of it and found herself able to breathe more freely. The -shoulder of the hill protected her at this point in some degree from the -wind also. She covered the ground more quickly and with less effort. - -It was here that there first came to her that awful sound as of a -rending, devouring monster--the fierce crackling and roaring of fire. -The horror of it set all her pulses leaping, but its effect upon her -senses was curiously stimulating. Where another might have been -paralysed by fear, she was driven forward as though goaded irresistibly. -It came to her--whence she knew not--that something immense lay before -her. A task of such magnitude as she had never before contemplated had -been laid upon her; and strength--such strength as had never before been -hers--had been given to her for its accomplishment. - -She did not know exactly when her fear became certainty, but when that -happened all personal fear passed utterly away from her. She forgot -herself completely. All her being leapt to the fulfilment of the -unknown task. - -The last curve in the uphill road brought her within view of the red -flames rushing skyward and curling over like fiery waves before the -wind. Through the roar of the furnace there came to her the shouting of -men's voices and the wild stampeding of horses. And twice ere she -reached the gates she heard the terrible cry of a horse. Then as though -she moved on wings, she was there in the stable-yard in the thick of the -confusion, with the fire roaring ahead of her and the red glare all -around. - -The whole stone-paved space seemed crowded with men and horses, and for -the first few seconds the noise and movement bewildered her. Then she -grasped the fact that only one side of the double row of stables was -alight and that in consequence of the driving north wind the other side -was in comparative safety. - -They were leading the terrified animals out through a passage that led -to further buildings on this safe side. But the task was no light one, -for they were all maddened by fear and almost beyond control. - -As she drew nearer however Maud saw that the men themselves were -grappling with the situation with energy and resolution, and there was -no panic among them. One--a mere lad--gripping a plunging horse by the -forelock, recognized her and shouted a warning through the din. - -She came to him, unheeding the trampling hoofs. "Is Mr. Bolton back?" -she cried. - -He shook his head, striving to back the animal away from her. He had a -halter flung over his shoulder which he had not stopped to adjust. - -Maud took it from him, and between them, with difficulty, they slipped -it over the terrified creature's head. Then, obtaining a firmer hold, -the boy shouted further information. - -"No, the boss ain't back yet. He'll be in any minute now. Sam's gone -for the fire-engine. He thinks the house will be safe if the wind don't -veer. But the other side'll be burnt out before he gets back at this -rate. We've got most all the animals out now though." - -"Not all?" Maud cried the words with a momentary wild misgiving. - -The boy yelled back again, still wrestling with the struggling horse. -"All but The Hundredth Chance. He's gone by this time. We couldn't -save 'im. It's like an open furnace along there." - -Then she knew what it was that lay before her, the task for which this -great new strength had been bestowed. She left the boy and ran up the -yard in the rear of that raging fire. She did not feel the stones under -her feet. The seething crowd of men and horses became no more than -shadows on the wall. Twice as she went she narrowly escaped death from -the plunging hoofs, and knew it not.... - -The heat was terrific, but the smoke was all blown away from her. She -felt no suffocation. But when she reached the stone passage that led to -the group of loose-boxes where once she had stood horror-stricken and -listened to Jake reprimanding Dick Stevens in the language of the -stables, she realized the truth of what the boy had said. It was like -an open furnace. - -Yet there seemed a chance--the faintest chance--that that one loose-box -at the southern corner, the best loose-box in the whole of the -Stables--might yet be untouched by the devouring flames. The block of -buildings was alight and burning fiercely, but it was not yet alight -from end to end. It looked like a lane of fire at the end of that stone -passage, but she could see the line of loose-boxes beyond, fitfully -through wreaths of smoke. All the doors stood open as far as she could -see. They had evidently taken the animals in order, and it had been the -fate of The Hundredth Chance to be left till last. - -And how to reach him! It had baffled his rescuers. For the moment it -baffled her also. She stood at the entrance to the stone passage -looking through, feeling the stones under her feet hot like a grid, -seeing the red flames leaping from roof to roof. - -Then the driving wind came swirling behind her, and she felt as if a -hand had pushed her. She plunged into the passage and ran before it. - -She emerged in that lane of fire. It roared all around her. She felt -the heat envelop her with a fiery, blistering intensity, but ever that -unseen hand seemed to urge her. She hesitated no more, though she rushed -into a seething cauldron of flame. - -And ever the thought of Jake was with her, Jake who loved his animals as -he loved nothing else on earth. - -She reached that line of boxes, how she knew not. The roof was burning -now from end to end, but as she tore past the open doors there came to -her an awful cry, and she knew that the colt still lived. - -The smoke came down on her here, blinding her, but though it stopped her -breath it could not stop her progress. It seemed as though no power on -earth could do that now until she had reached her goal. Crouching, with -lungs that felt like bursting, she forced a way over those last -desperate yards. - -Every door was open save that one, and against that one there came a -maddened wild tattoo. The Hundredth Chance was fighting for life. - -She reached the door through swirling smoke. The flames were shooting -over her head. She caught at the bolt. It was burning hot as the door -of an oven; but she knew no pain. She dragged it back. - -Again there came that fearful shriek and the battering of heels against -the wood. The animal was plunging about his prison like a mad thing. -She mustered all her strength and pushed upper and lower doors inwards -at the same moment. - -Instantly there came the rush of hoofs. She was flung violently -backwards, falling headlong on the stones. The Hundredth Chance -galloped free; and she was left shattered, inert, with the fire raging -all around her. - -But the deed was done, the great task accomplished. And nothing mattered -any more. Jake loved his animals as he loved nothing else on earth.... - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI - - THE NEW BOSS - - -What was that red light burning? Symbol of undying Love! Symbol of the -Immortal! The Lamp that burns for ever before the High Altar of Heaven! - -Over the wide, sandy desert it shone, the only light in leagues and -leagues of darkness. A great many wayfarers were drawing towards it, -but they were very far away from it and from each other. Billows and -billows of sandy waste stretched between. But they could all see the -lamp. It shone like a red, still beacon, giving light to the outcast, -guiding the feet of the wanderers. - -Ah, the long sandy ridges--how weary for the feet! Who could have faced -the journey if God had not lifted up that lamp in the desert? Who could -ever have hoped to reach the goal? Even as it was, the journey was -long--so long, and the light so far away! - -Who was that speaking? Was it the Voice that had not sounded in tempest -or fire, but only at the very last, when all other things were past? -"Love is only gained by Love,--by the complete renunciation of self. -Love is a joyful sacrifice,--to give and give without measure, not -counting the cost, rejoicing only in the power to give, till it all -comes back a thousand-fold--Love the Invincible. Love the Divine, Love -the Perfect Gift." - -Surely it was Love Itself that spoke those words--Love that had raised -that eternal beacon--Love that drew the pilgrims out of the long, dark -night! And the sandy desert faded and became a garden where white -lilies bloomed--lilies that faded not, such lilies as decked the High -Altar of Heaven. - -There were no wayfarers here. There was no journeying for tired feet. -Only a peace ineffable, beyond the power of words to describe. The -lilies grew tall and white, unspeakably pure, fairer than any earthly -flowers, dazzling in splendour, decked in holiness. Very peaceful was -that quiet garden, with no song of birds to break the stillness, no -whisper of fountains, no faintest echo of voices. Perfect rest was -there, a calm as the calm of still waters, a hush that was Divine. Like -a veil the solitude lay spread, stretching into the great spaces of -eternity. And the lilies stood waiting, waiting, to be laid upon the -Altar of God. - -How long had they stood waiting thus? Were they yet not pure enough? -How long had they still to wait? Would the gates of that garden never -open and the angel that served the Altar come to gather the flowers? -Ah! Surely they were opening now! There came a waft of air, the scent -and sound of the earth. But no one entered, and the lilies never -stirred. Only the gates remained open, and the peace that wrapt the -garden quivered like a filmy veil. - -Very far away from that quiet place someone was calling, calling. At -first it was suggestion rather than sound, a vague murmur from the old, -sad world so many millions of miles away. But gradually it grew till it -seemed the echo of a cry, and at last the cry itself became -articulate,--a cry of anguish rising from the void. - -"Come back! Come back! O God, send her back to me! Send her back!" - -The lilies were moving now. They seemed to be listening, whispering -together. The wind that blew through the open gates rustled among their -ranks. Someone was lost then. Someone was wanted. Someone was sought -through the great spaces of eternity. Was it a sod that had drifted -free too soon? Would the searcher ever find that drifting soul? Did -the one great Bond that nought could ever sever hang between them, -linking each to each? It was only by the drawing closer of this Bond -that they would ever find each other. - -And the way back was long and dark and stormy. Other worlds were there, -other worlds and other voices. And once there came a great sound of -singing as of men and angels praising God before the High Altar of -Heaven. - -Then the darkness of earth rushed upwards like the smoke from a mighty -furnace, and all was blotted out.... - -Someone was holding her. Someone was whispering her name. She opened -her eyes upon the old world of cloud and sunshine, and knew that the -Bond had brought her back. Through all the great spaces of Eternity he -bad drawn her to his side. She looked into his face, and it was the -face of a man who had suffered agony. - -"Thank God!" he said. "O thank God!" - -Then she remembered in what cause she had spent herself. "What of--The -Hundredth Chance?" she said. - -He caught his breath. His lips were quivering. "He's safe enough. -But--my girl--what made you do it?" - -She looked at him wonderingly. "But it was all I could do," she said. - -He bent his head over something that he was holding, and it came to her -with a little start of surprise that it was her own hand swathed in -bandages. - -"Oh, Jake," she said, "am I ill? Have I been hurt?" - -He did not look at her. "Thank God, not seriously," he said, speaking -with an odd jerkiness. "The colt knocked you down. You were stunned. -You scorched your hands over that infernal bolt. But the wind blew the -fire away from you. You weren't actually burnt." - -"Is the fire out?" she asked anxiously. "Tell me what happened!" - -Jake's head was still bent. She thought that he suppressed a shudder. -"Yes, they soon got it under. There wasn't much left to burn that side. -It was a good thing the wind held, or the whole show might have been -gutted. It's all safe now." - -Maud's eyes wandered round the panelled parlour and came back to his -bent head. "I feel so strange," she said, "as if I had been a long, -long journey, and as if it had all happened ages and ages ago. Is it so -very long ago, Jake?" - -"About four hours," said Jake. "Dr. Burrowes has been in. He chanced -to be passing in his dog-cart. He was on his way to a case, and -couldn't stay except to give you first aid. He is coming back -presently." - -"And you have been here with me ever since?" she said, with a touch of -shyness. "Didn't you want to be looking after the animals?" - -He shook his head, gazing steadily downwards. - -"Have you been--anxious about me, Jake?" she whispered. - -"Yes." Just the one word spoken with an almost savage emphasis. - -"But Dr. Burrowes must have known if--if I were in any danger," she -said. - -He answered her with what she felt to be a great effort. "Burrowes was -anxious too. He was afraid of the shock for you. He thought there -was--danger." - -She moved her hand a little, and in a moment, as though he feared to -hurt her, he laid it gently down. - -"I am so sorry you have been worried about me," she said. - -"It doesn't matter now," said Jake. He reached out for a glass that -stood on the table. "Burrowes left this for you. Can you manage to -drink it?" - -He held it to her lips with a hand that was not so steady as usual. She -drank and felt revived. - -Her brain was becoming more active. There was something in Jake's -attitude that required explanation. "I am better now," she said. "Tell -me a little more! How did I get here? Who found me?" - -"I found you. The Hundredth Chance came tearing out. We had some -trouble to catch him. And then one of the boys suddenly said--" Jake -stopped and swallowed hard--"said--said you had been in the yard, and -must have set him free. I--got to you--just in time." - -"You saved me?" she said swiftly. - -He nodded. - -She raised herself, leaning towards him. "Jake! Were you hurt?" - -"No." He kept his eyes stubbornly lowered. - -"No one has been hurt?" she persisted. - -"No one but you." His tone was almost surly. - -But something urged her on. "Jake," she said wistfully, "aren't you -glad your animals are all safe?" - -"They belong to the new boss," he said doggedly. "They don't belong to -me." - -Her face changed a little. "I think they belong to you first, Jake," -she said. "You love them so." - -He made a sharp gesture. "It's quite likely the new boss will tell me -to shunt." - -"Oh, he won't do that, Jake!" she protested quickly. "I'm sure he won't -do that. You--you are one of the best trainers in England." - -His mouth twitched a little; she thought he wryly smiled. "One of the -best blackguards too, my girl," he said grimly. - -She opened her eyes in surprise. "Jake, what do you mean? Are people -saying hateful things against you?" - -He gripped his hands between his knees. "It ain't that I meant. People -can say what they damn please. No, it's just my own estimate of myself. -I'm going to chuck the animals. They've come near costing me too dear. -I'm going to give in to you now. You can do what you like with me. -I'll serve you to the best of my ability, fetch and carry and generally -wait around on you till you're tired of me. Then I'll go." - -"Jake! Jake!" She was half-laughing, but there was remonstrance in her -voice. "But I never wanted you to give up the animals. Why, I don't -believe you could live without them, could you?" - -He gave himself an odd, half-angry shake. "I've done with 'em!" he -declared almost fiercely. "I can't serve two masters. If the new boss -don't chuck me, I shall chuck him." - -"But the horses, Jake!" she urged. "And The Hundredth Chance! You -can't be in earnest. You--you have always loved them better than -anything else in the world!" - -He winced sharply. "You're wrong! And I am in earnest. If--if you had -lost your life over the colt, I'd have shot him first and myself after. -What sort of brute do you take me for? Do you think I'm without any -heart at all? All animal and no heart?" - -The question was passionate, but yet he did not look at her as he -uttered it. He was gazing downwards at his clenched hands. - -He was formidable at that moment, but she did not shrink from him. -Rather she drew nearer. "Of course I don't think so," she said. -"But--but--am I first with you, Jake? Am I really first?" - -He made a choked sound in his throat as if many emotions struggled for -utterance. Then, almost under his breath, "An easy first!" he muttered. -"An easy first!" - -Her bandaged hand slipped on to his arm. Her eyes were shining. "Oh, -Jake, thank you for telling me that," she said. "You--I know you didn't -want to tell me. And--now--I've got to tell you something--that I don't -want to tell you either--that I don't know how to tell you. Oh, Jake, -do help me! Don't--don't be angry!" - -He turned towards her, but he did not lift his eyes. He seemed almost -afraid to look her in the face. "My girl, you've no call to be afraid -of me," he said. - -But there was constraint in his tone, constraint in his attitude, and -her heart sank. - -"I'm so--horribly afraid--of hurting you," she said. - -A faint, faint gleam of humour crossed his face. "Oh, I guess I'm -down," he said. "You needn't be afraid of that either." - -She tried to clasp his arm. "Jake, if--if I really come first with you, -perhaps--perhaps--you'll be able to forgive me. It's because you came -first with me too--a very, very long way first--" her voice shook--"that -I was able to do it. It's because I wanted you to have what you wanted -without--without feeling under an obligation to me or anyone. It's -because--because your happiness is more to me--a thousand times -more--than anything else in the world!" Her breast began to heave; -Jake's eyes were suddenly upon her, but it was she who could not, dared -not meet their look. "Ah, I haven't told you yet!" she said brokenly. -"How shall I tell you? It's--it's the animals, Jake. It's the Stud!" - -"What about the Stud?" he said. His voice was sunk very low, it sounded -stern. - -With a great effort she mastered her agitation and answered him. "It's -yours, Jake, all yours. The new boss is--is just an invention of Mr. -Rafford's. You--you are--the new boss." - -"What?" he said. - -He got up suddenly, with a movement that verged upon violence, and stood -over her, she felt, almost threateningly. - -Through quivering distress she answered him again. - -"I've played a double game. I met Mr. Rafford first at Liverpool and -then I chanced to meet him again here after--after you had refused to -have my money. And he was kind and sympathetic and offered to help me. -I wanted you so to have the horses. And I couldn't bear to think that -you should lose them through me. Oh, Jake, don't look so--so terrible!" - -She sank back panting on her cushions. That one brief glimpse of his -face had appalled her. He had the look of a man hard pressed and -nearing the end of his strength. She saw that his hands were clenched. - -He spoke after several tense seconds. "Why have you done this thing?" - -She made a piteous gesture. "Oh, Jake, only--only because I loved you." - -"Only!" he said, and with the word she saw his hand unclench. - -For a moment a wild uncertainty possessed her, and then it was gone. -Jake dropped down on his knees beside her and took her into his arms. - -"Maud--" he said, and again "Maud!" - -But no further words would come. His voice broke. He hid his face -against her breast with a great sob. - -Her arms were round his neck in an instant, her cheek was pressed -against his hair. All doubts were gone forever. "My darling!" she -whispered. "My darling!" - -And through the great storm of emotion that shook Jake, she said the -soft words over and over, holding his head against her heart, kissing -the cropped hair above his temple, drawing him nearer, ever nearer, to -the inner sanctuary of her soul, till at length by the shattering of her -own reserve she broke down the last of his also. He lifted his face to -her with no attempt to hide his tears, and in the long, long kiss that -passed between them they found each other at last where the sand of the -desert turns to gold. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII - - OLD SCORES - - -Someone was whistling on the garden-path below the parlour-window. -Someone had sauntered up by way of the orchard through an April night of -radiant moonlight, and was softly whistling an old, old love-song with a -waltz-refrain. - -There was a light burning in the parlour, and at the table a woman sat -with bent head working. She did not look up as the sweet, rhythmic -sound reached her. She worked steadily on. - -The waltz-refrain came to an end. There fell a step outside the window. -A wicked, mischievous face peered in. - -"What! All alone, queen of the roses? Will you grant me admittance?" - -She looked across at him then, but she did not rise. "Come in, -certainly, if you wish!" she said. - -He came in with the air of one conferring a royal favour. He moved round -the table to her side, bent, and lightly kissed her hand. - -She suffered him with an enigmatic smile, scarcely pausing in her work. - -"And where is the worthy cow-puncher?" he said. - -She raised her brows ever so slightly. "Are you speaking of Jake--my -husband?" - -He smiled briefly, derisively. "Even so. Of Jake--your husband." - -She smiled also, but her smile was wholly sweet. "He will be in soon. -He has gone round to see that all is well. Sit down, won't you, and wait -till he comes?" - -"Oh ho!" said Saltash. He sat down facing her, closely watching her -every movement with his queer, restless eyes. "Do you think he will be -pleased to see me?" he asked. - -She glanced at him. "As pleased as I am," she said. - -"Are you pleased?" He flung the question as though he scarcely expected -an answer. - -But she answered it with serenity. "Yes, I am quite pleased to see you, -Charlie. I have been half-expecting you all day." - -"Really!" he said. - -She bent her head. "Ever since I heard of your return to the Castle. -It was kind of you to come round so soon. And we want to thank you--Jake -and I--for letting us use the stables till the new ones at Graydown are -leady." - -"Really!" Saltash said again. He added, "As half are already demolished -and the other half will be pulled down as soon as the Stud goes, it was -not much of a favour to grant. Do I understand that Jake is to continue -in command under the new regime?" - -She smiled again as she answered, "In absolute command." - -He frowned momentarily. "A fortunate thing for Jake!" - -"He thinks so too," she said. - -He began to finger his cigarette case. "Do you mind if I smoke?" - -"Not in the least." She raised her eyes suddenly and fully to his. -"Please remember that you are in the house of friends!" she said, with a -slight emphasis on the last word. - -"You amaze me!" said Saltash. - -She laid aside her work with heightened colour. "Charlie, I have some -rather serious things to say to you." - -"My dear girl," he protested, "must you?" - -"Yes, I must, and you must listen." She spoke with resolution. "I will -be as brief as I possibly can, but I must speak. Smoke--please -smoke--if you want to!" - -He laughed a little, leaning towards her. "On second thoughts, I don't. -This promises to be interesting, after all. Do you know when I came in -just now you looked so prim that I was nearly frightened quite away?" - -She was looking him straight in the face. "Charlie, why did you come?" - -He shrugged his shoulders. "Ask the needle why it follows the magnet!" -he said. - -His eyes caressed her, but she steadily faced them. "I ought to hate -you," she said. "But I don't. I think of you always--in spite of -myself--as a friend. I suppose that is a woman's way--to be tricked and -to forgive. Anyhow, I forgave you a long while ago. I believe I have -even begun to forget. Charlie, I know that you are capable of a sincere -friendship. I can't help knowing it." - -"You deceive yourself," he said lightly. His eyes still dwelt upon her, -but it was with a half-tender mockery, as one who smiles at the -make-believe of a child. - -Her lips quivered a little. "No," she said. "It is the truth. You are -pleased to wear a mask--but I know--the real man. I know that you are -often crooked in your dealings, often cruelly malicious and vindictive; -but at the back of it all there is a man capable of big things, of -chivalry, generosity, and honest kindness of heart. Charlie, I appeal -to that man!" - -"What do you want of him?" said Saltash. And still he looked at her, -but again his look had changed. The mockery had given place to a -species of dispassionate curiosity. His ugly face had the odd -melancholy as of something longed for but hopelessly lost which may be -seen on the face of a monkey. - -Because of that look she suddenly stretched out her hands to him -impulsively, generously. - -"I want fair play," she said. "Perhaps I don't deserve it. I haven't -always treated you fairly. But I want you to put the past away from -you--as I have done. I want to trust you again." - -There were tears in her eyes as she spoke. He held her hands hard -pressed in his. - -"A dangerous experiment, Maud of the roses," he said. "But if you will -you must. What more do you want?" - -She answered him quickly, pleadingly. "Charlie, you have a grudge -against--my husband! I want it put right away--right away. I don't -think you have the power to hurt him, but even if you had, I want to -know that you wouldn't use it. He has always served you faithfully. I -want fair play for him." - -Saltash's dark face showed a faint, twisted smile. "You certainly -credit me with considerable generosity," he said. - -"He deserves fair play from you," she insisted. "You have tried to -undermine his reputation, and you have failed. But you might have -succeeded, although you know, as well as I do--that he is a white man." - -"Do I?" said Saltash. - -"You do! You do!" she said with conviction. "You have no right to -cherish a grudge against him. He has done nothing to deserve it." - -"And how do you know that?" said Saltash. - -"I know him," she said with simplicity. - -"I see." His smile became a little more marked. "Did he ever tell you -the funny story of my double?" he asked. - -She gave a great start, and in a moment her face was burning. - -"I see," he said again. "You needn't answer. And you tell me that I -have no right to cherish a grudge against him." - -She spoke with difficulty. "He did not accuse you of anything." - -Saltash laughed. "Left you to draw your own conclusions, eh? Score -number one! And after that, when he knew that I was coming home, when -he knew that you were mine for the asking, didn't he race you into -marriage with him before you had time to find your breath?" - -Her face burned more hotly. "Wouldn't you have done the same?" she -said. - -He looked sardonic. "You must remember that I am not--a white man, my -queen of the roses. My standards won't compare with his. Score number -two then! And hasn't he baulked me at every turn ever since? When have -I ever got back any of my own--except once when I made you see him as he -wasn't--a drunkard, and except when one night of moonshine I held you in -my arms and you gave your lips to mine?" His voice suddenly thrilled. - -She caught her breath sharply. "I was mad!" she said. "I was mad!" - -She would have withdrawn her hands from his, but he frustrated her. A -gleam of mischief flashed in his eyes. "No, Maud of the roses, it was -just--a dream. Have you never said to yourself, That was the happiest -dream of my life?" - -She shook her head. "That part of my life is over--quite over. I have -come into reality, and--Charlie--it is better than any dream. That is -why I want all that is evil to be taken away. If Jake has ever wronged -you, then I have wronged you. And I appeal to your kindness of heart, -your generosity, for forgiveness." - -The mischief died out of the eyes that watched her. Saltash bent a -little over the hands he held. "But why should you take that -trouble--if I have ceased to count?" he said. - -"You do count," she answered quickly and earnestly. - -"Surely not if--as you say--it is out of my power to hurt him." There -was a hint of banter in the words, but they held no venom. - -"It isn't that," she said. "I want to know that the hatchet is buried, -that there will be no more ill feeling. Jake is his own master, and I -know he will make his mark. But I want him to have a fair chance, free -from all handicap." - -"What do you mean by that?" Saltash suddenly broke in. "I presume he is -still a paid servant though it may no longer be my privilege to employ -him." - -She lifted her head a little. "No. Jake is his own master. The Stud -was bought with my money. It belongs to him." - -Saltash's brows went up. "Your money? You never had any!" - -"Never before last winter," she said. "I inherited a very large fortune -from my uncle in the North. It came to me--just in time." - -Saltash's brows were working up and down like a monkey's. "And -you--bought the Stud? Then all this American business was bunkum! Did -my agent know of this?" - -She shook her head. "No; no one knows yet except Jake, Bunny, and me." - -He let her hands go abruptly, and began to pace the room. - -She stood motionless, watching him. "Even Jake did not know till it had -all gone through," she said, after a moment. "I told him--on the night -of the fire." - -"What did he say?" Saltash tossed the words over his shoulder. His -dark face was drawn, almost distorted. - -Maud hesitated. Then: "He asked me why I had done it," she said, in a -low voice. - -He paused in his walk. "And you struck a bargain with him? He was to -let you go your own way for all time, please yourself, live your own -life! Wasn't that it?" - -Her eyes fell involuntarily before the sudden fire in his. "Oh no!" she -said quickly. "Oh no! I didn't want that." - -"What then?" He wheeled and came to her, stood before her. "Surely you -didn't give him all that for nothing!" - -She faced him again steadily. "He wouldn't have taken it," she said. - -"Then--" he was standing close to her; his odd eyes gazed, deeply -craving, into hers. - -But she did not flinch. "I gave it to him--for love," she said. - -He made a sudden movement; his features were for a moment convulsed. -Then swiftly he controlled himself. "You--love the man!" he said. - -She clasped her hands together tightly. Her eyes never wavered for an -instant from his. "Yes, I love him," she said. - -He flung violently away from her. "Why didn't I destroy him long ago?" -he said. - -Again he paced the room with sharp, jerky movements. Suddenly he flung -two questions over his shoulder. "That was why you changed your mind -after sending me that ring? That was what you came to me to the Castle -to tell me?" - -She bent her head. "I believe that was the reason. But I couldn't have -told you that then. I didn't know it myself." - -"How long have you known it?" - -He was not looking at her, and very piteously she smiled. "It came to -me--quite suddenly--in the hall at 'The Anchor' when you told me--you -told me--that he wouldn't be such a fool as to believe in me. I left -him without seeing him again. And then--and then--just when my uncle -died--he came to me. And I knew that he did believe in me after all." - -Saltash broke into a laugh--the laugh of a man who hides pain. "It was -my doing then! Come, you owe me something after all. But it seems I -have been misspending my energies ever since. I thought you wanted to -be rid of him." - -Again abruptly he came back to her, stopped in front of her. "And so it -all came out on the night of the fire," he said. - -She looked at him, and her blue eyes shone. "Yes," she said softly. -"There have been no misunderstandings since then." - -He smiled a little with twisted brows. "Do you know who was responsible -for that fire?" - -She started. "No!" - -"A certain scoundrel named Stevens," he said. "The same scoundrel who -pulled the Albatross at the Cup Meeting, and was thrashed for it by the -virtuous cow-puncher. Do you know who was at the back of that -scoundrel?" - -Her eyes fell before the grim bitterness of his. "Charlie!" she -faltered. - -"Yes, Charlie," he said. "Charles Burchester, Lord Saltash, another -scoundrel blacker than the first who had suffered a similar punishment -for a somewhat similar offence from the same virtuous hands. Scoundrel -number one won't trouble you again. I have shipped him off to -Australia. Scoundrel number two is awaiting his orders to go -to--another place." - -Her lips suddenly quivered. She put out a trembling hand. "Charlie, I -don't believe it of you!" - -"Believe it or not," he said, "it's true. I'm a spiteful devil. You -said so yourself a minute ago." But he held her hand almost as one -pleading for clemency. - -She raised her eyes to his. The fascination of the man drew her, -but--possibly for the first time--not against her better judgment. "Let -us forget it all!" she said. "Let us be friends!" - -He laughed in a fashion that moved her to pity, and bending kissed her -hand. "If Jake agrees--Amen!" he said. - -And then sharply, like an animal trapped, he turned towards the window -and met Jake face to face. - -They stood for a moment so, confronting each other in dead silence. -Then lightly Saltash spoke. - -"Caught trespassing, but not poaching!" he said. "Your wife and I have -been settling--old scores." - -Jake's eyes went past him to his wife's face. She made no sign of any -kind, save that she met the look. - -Jake came quietly forward. "You are very welcome, my lord," he said, -and held out a steady hand. - -A gleam of surprise crossed Saltash's dark face. He took the hand, -looking at Jake whimsically. "You are the fellow who is not accustomed -to being beaten at the winning-post," he said. "Well, you were a bad -starter and the odds were dead against you, but you've got there. I -congratulate you." - -"You are very good, my lord." Jake's eyes, red-brown and resolute, -looked into his. - -Saltash shrugged his shoulders, with a slight grimace. "The _role_ is -thrust upon me. I wonder if I shall be able to sustain it." - -Something in the word reached Jake. His lips parted in a sudden smile -that banished all the hardness from his face. His hand squarely gripped -and held. For a second--just a second--there was a gleam of comradeship -in his eyes. "I guess it's up to you, my lord," he said. - -The moment passed and Saltash turned aside, laughing with a certain -royal graciousness that was all his own. "The odds are ninety-nine to -one, Bolton," he said. "But you are too accustomed to that to be -dismayed." - -"I put my money on the hundredth chance," Jake answered in his slow, -sure fashion. "And I reckon I shan't lose it." - - - - - EPILOGUE - - THE FINISH - - -"The black colt leads! The black colt leads! He wins! He wins! He -wins!" - -A great shout went up from the straining multitude as The Hundredth -Chance, ridden by Sam Vickers, shot past the winning-post three lengths -ahead of the horse behind. It was a sensational victory, for it was his -maiden race, and the crowd yelled themselves hoarse over it, cheering -and cheering again till the black colt came forth in a welter of sweat -and foam to gather his laurels, still carrying his jockey and led by his -owner, Jake Bolton. - -He bore himself proudly, as if fully conscious of the distinction he had -won. Jake looked proud too. He stuffed some sugar between the wet lips -as he came, and his hand caressed the streaming neck. It was a popular -meeting, and it was plainly a popular victory, though the favourite had -not proved the winner. Jake Bolton's name went from mouth to mouth, and -the throng cheered him to the echo. He smiled his open, pleasant smile -in answer. He had been looking to this moment for the past two years, -he had worked hard for it; and his trust in The Hundredth Chance had -been vindicated, his labour rewarded. He knew that yet greater -victories lay before his favourite. The Hundredth Chance was a born -winner. He would be famous. - -Back in the paddock a slim, boyish figure leaped to meet him. "Jake, -he's a stunner! Let me hold him a minute, Jake! Well done, Sam! Well -done!" - -Sam grinned from ear to ear as he dropped from the saddle. "Pretty -sight, weren't it, Sir Bernard?" - -"Best I've ever seen!" declared Bunny enthusiastically. He led the black -colt proudly after his jockey for a few paces, then gave him up and went -back to Jake. "Old feller, I'm so jolly bucked," he said, hugging his -arm, "I want to dance on my head. Do you know what I heard a chap say -of you just now--a chap who knew too? He said, 'There goes the -Lynx--one of the straightest men on the Turf.' It sounded just fine. I -wanted to go and shake hands with him." - -Jake laughed, a quiet satisfied laugh. "Was Maud pleased?" - -"Oh! rather! She's going home now, said I was to tell you; said she'd -save up and congratulate you in private." - -"That so?" said Jake. - -He disengaged himself from Bunny and went about his business, but the -smile lingered in his eyes for the rest of the afternoon. And it was -the smile of a man who grasps his heart's desire. - -There was a white house on one of the great rolling downs behind the -Graydown race-course, a low, white house with gabled roofs and dark -green shutters. There were woodland trees about it, and a terraced -garden bright with many spring flowers. - -Behind it lay the racing-stables, also white,--model stables, the pride -of Jake's heart. He seldom approached the house by any other route. -But as he passed between the long, orderly buildings on that particular -evening after his horse's victory, he did not linger. Straight to the -house he went, and straight within, pausing only in the wide, square -hall to threw down hat and whip ere he passed on, guided by the notes of -a piano, to a room that overlooked the garden and the whole sweep of -hill-side beyond. - -She did not hear him enter, albeit she was playing softly, a dreamy -melody that had in it something of dawning gladness and of infinite -hope. Only Chops, the red setter, lying by the open French window, -looked up and wagged a noiseless welcome. Then as he reached her, she -caught the jingle of his spurs and in a moment she had turned to meet -him with a vivid smile of eagerness. - -"Oh, Jake, I am so glad--so glad!" - -He put his arms about her as she sat, holding the flushed face upturned -to his. "What's that you're playing, my girl? Not a paean of -thanksgiving!" - -Her eyelids fluttered under his look. She laughed faintly. She offered -him her lips with just a hint of shyness. He kissed her, but he -continued to look at her with an intent glitter in his eyes. "You're -glad, are you?" he said. "Real glad?" - -Her arms clung about his neck. "Yes, real glad, Jake. I know you call -The Hundredth Chance your luck. I was horribly anxious lest--lest he -should lose after all." - -He smiled a little. "What if he had? Think I can't stand up to a -loss?" - -She lifted her eyes to his for a moment, but they fell almost -immediately. "No. To use your own language, I think you're just fine. -But--but all the same, I've been saving up a little consolation for you -in case you needed it." - -"That so?" said Jake. He spoke very softly through lips that were -suddenly tender. "Well, let's imagine I'm in need of consolation! I'd -enjoy to be consoled by you." - -She laughed again that faint, shy laugh, and, freeing one hand, began to -feel over the keys of the piano, striking a soft chord here and there. - -Jake stood for a moment or two, then squarely bent, bringing his face on -a level with hers. - -She made a slight gesture of protest, and then very suddenly, as if -compelled, she raised her eyes fully to his. - -"You once told me you'd enjoy--something quite different," she said. - -The red-brown eyes gazed deeply into hers. "And--good land--how shocked -you were!" he said. "You didn't view yourself as a plain man's wife in -those days, my princess. Reckon you hated the plain man pretty badly -for teaching you the meaning of the word." - -She laid one hand against his breast. Her eyes were of that intense -blueness that comes from the heart of a sapphire. "And now," she said, -"I love him better every day--every night." - -His big hand closed upon her wrist. He drew a great breath. "Ah!" he -said. - -She went on, albeit her lips were quivering. "I don't need to tell you -that, do I? You know it so well. I don't think I really need to tell -you--of this other thing either--of this big, big gift that is coming to -us. Oh, Jake, dear Jake, I have so hoped--so hoped!" - -He held her closer. "My own girl! Guess you'll be happy now!" he -whispered. - -She smiled at him through tears. "No, not for my own sake,--for -yours--for yours!" - -"For mine!" he said. "Haven't you given me all the world and then -some?" - -She uttered a trembling laugh. "I've given you lots that you didn't -want to take--things that have cost me nothing. But this--this is -different. And--it's the thing you wanted." - -He clasped her to him almost fiercely. "My girl, I want nothing--no -one--but you!" - -She clung to him with a tenseness that was passionate. "That is what I -wanted to say to you, my darling. You will always be -first--first--first. Dr. Capper once told me that--that my frog would -turn into a prince some day. And--dear--he was right. You are the -prince of my heart--for ever. I love you as--as I never thought it was -humanly possible to love." - -"Maybe it's not--all human," he whispered, with lips that moved against -her own. - -"You are right," she whispered back. "It is Divine. The perfect Gift. -But it only comes to those who give--without measure--not counting the -cost--rejoicing only in the power to give--till it all comes back a -thousandfold--a thousandfold." Her voice thrilled, her arms clung -closer. "I once heard a man preach about that. And at the end he said, -'It is then that the ploughman overtakes the reaper, for ploughman and -reaper are one.' Jake, I think that man spoke a great truth. You and I -have done some heavy ploughing, but we are beginning to be reapers now." -Her lips suddenly pressed his closely, lingeringly. Her tears were -gone. "It's good to reap our own harvest, isn't it, Jake?" she -murmured. "Yours and mine together?" - -And Jake answered her in his own language, his voice very soft and slow, -his eyes gazing straight into hers, seeing her soul. "Sure!" he said. -"Sure!" - - - - - THE END - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/43069 - -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. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a -registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, -unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything -for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may -use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative -works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and -printed and given away - you may do practically _anything_ with public -domain eBooks. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, -especially commercial redistribution. - - - -The Full Project Gutenberg License - - -_Please read this before you distribute or use this work._ - -To protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or -any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License available with this file or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works - - -*1.A.* By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the -terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all -copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in your possession. If -you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -*1.B.* "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things -that you can do with most Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works even -without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph -1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -*1.C.* The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of -Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works. Nearly all the individual works -in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you -from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating -derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project -Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the -Project Gutenberg(tm) mission of promoting free access to electronic -works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg(tm) works in compliance with -the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg(tm) name -associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this -agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full -Project Gutenberg(tm) License when you share it without charge with -others. - - -*1.D.* The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg(tm) work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -*1.E.* Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -*1.E.1.* The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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 http://www.gutenberg.org - -*1.E.2.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can -be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying -any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a -work with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on -the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs -1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -*1.E.3.* If an individual Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg(tm) License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work. - -*1.E.4.* Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg(tm) License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg(tm). - -*1.E.5.* Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) License. - -*1.E.6.* You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg(tm) work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg(tm) web site -(http://www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg(tm) License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -*1.E.7.* Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg(tm) works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -*1.E.8.* You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works -provided that - - - You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg(tm) works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - - - You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg(tm) - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) - works. - - - You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - - - You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) works. - - -*1.E.9.* If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg(tm) trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below. - -*1.F.* - -*1.F.1.* Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection. -Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, and the -medium on which they may be stored, may contain "Defects," such as, but -not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription -errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a -defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer -codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. - -*1.F.2.* LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg(tm) trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg(tm) electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. -YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, -BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN -PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND -ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR -ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES -EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE. - -*1.F.3.* LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -*1.F.4.* Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -*1.F.5.* Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -*1.F.6.* INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg(tm) -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg(tm) work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg(tm) - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg(tm)'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg(tm) collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and -permanent future for Project Gutenberg(tm) and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org . - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state -of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue -Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification number is -64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the -full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official page -at http://www.pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - - -Project Gutenberg(tm) depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where -we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any -statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside -the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways -including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, -please visit: http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic -works. - - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg(tm) -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg(tm) eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg(tm) eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. unless -a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(tm), -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |