CHAPTER V
James had considerable experience with, horses. He knew at once that itwas probably a hopeless undertaking to change the mare's mind, or ratherher obstinacy. However, he tried the usual methods, touching with thewhip, getting out and attempting to lead, but they were all, as he hadsupposed from the first, in vain. A terrible sense of being up againstfate itself seized him: an animal's will unreasoning, unrelenting,bears, in fact, the aspect of fate itself. It is at once sensate andinsensate. James thought of Clemency, and decided to waste no more time.
The gray mare was near enough to a tree to tie her, and he tied her andset out on foot. It was a very dark night, cloudy and chilly andthreatening snow. He walked on, as it were, through softly envelopingshadows, which seemed to his excited fancy to be coming forward to meethim. He began to be very much alarmed. He had wasted most of his youngsentiment upon Clemency's mother, but, after all, he suddenlydiscovered that he had a feeling for the girl herself. He thought thatit was only the natural anxiety of any man of honor for the safety of ahelpless young girl out alone at night, and beset by possible dangers,but he realized himself in a panic. His plan was of course to godirectly to Annie Lipton's home, some two miles farther on, then itoccurred to him that Clemency must inevitably have left there. If shewere lying dead or injured on the road, how in the world was he to see?He felt in his pocket for matches, and found just one. He lit that andpeered around. While it burned he saw nothing except the frozen roadwith its desolate borders of woods and brush, a fit scene for countlesstragedies. When the match burned out he thought of something else.Supposing that Clemency were lying half-dead anywhere near the road, howwas she to know that a friend was near? Immediately he began to whistle.Whistling was a trick of his, and he had a remarkably sweet, clear pipe.He knew that Clemency, if she were to hear his whistle, would know whowas near. He whistled "Way down upon the Suwanee River" through, then hebegan on the "Flower Song" from Faust, walking all the time quiterapidly but with alert ears. He was half through the "Flower Song" whenhe stopped short. He thought he heard something. He listened, and didhear quite distinctly an exceedingly soft little voice, which might havebeen the voice of shadows--"Is that you?"
"Clemency," he cried out, and rushed toward the wood, and directly thegirl was clinging to him. She was panting with sobs, but she kept hervoice down to a whisper. "Speak low, speak low," she said in his ear. "Idon't know where he is. Oh, speak low." She clung to him with almost aspasmodic grip of her slender arms. "If you had been ten minutes longerI think I should have died," she whispered. "Don't make a sound. I don'tknow where he is."
"Was it--" began James. He felt himself trembling at the thought of whatthe girl might be going to reveal to him.
"Yes, that same dreadful man. Uncle Tom was right. I stayed too long atAnnie's. It was almost dark when I left there. She persuaded me to stayto dinner. They had turkey. I was about half a mile below here when he,the man, came out of the woods, just as he did before. I heard him, andI knew. I did not look around. I ran, and I heard his footsteps behindme. The darkness seemed to shut down all at once. I knew he could catchme, and remembered what I had heard about wild animals when they werehunted. I had gone a little past here, running just as softly as Icould, when I turned right into the woods, and ran back. Then I layright down in the underbrush and kept still. I heard him run past. ThenI heard him come back. He came into the woods. I expected every minutehe would step on me, but I kept still. Finally I heard him go away, butI have not dared to stir since! I made up my mind I would keep stilluntil I heard a team pass. It did seem to me one must pass, and onewould have at any other time, but it has been hours I have been lyingthere. Then I heard your whistle. I was almost afraid to speak then.Don't speak above a whisper now. Did you come on foot?"
"I had the gray mare, and she balked about half a mile from here. Youare sure you are not hurt?"
"No, only I am trying hard not to faint. Let us walk on very fast, butstep softly, and don't talk."
James put his arm around the girl and half carried her. She continuedto draw short, panting breaths, which she tried to subdue. They reachedthe place where the gray mare loomed faintly out of the gloom with thedark mass of the buggy behind her.
"Let us get in," whispered Clemency. "Quick!"
"I am afraid she won't budge."
"Yes, she will for me. She has a tender mouth, that is why she balks.You must have pulled too hard on the lines. Sometimes I have made her gowhen even Uncle Tom couldn't."
Clemency ran around to the gray's head and patted her, and James untiedher. Then the girl got into the buggy and took the reins, and Jamesfollowed. He was almost jostled out, the mare started with such impetus.They made the distance home almost on a run.
"Oh, I am so glad," panted Clemency. "You see I can seem to feel hermouth when I hold the lines, and she knows. Was poor mother worried?"
"A little."
"I know she was almost crazy."
"She will be all right when she sees you safe," said James.
"Is Uncle Tom home yet? No, of course I know he isn't, or he would havecome instead of you. Oh, dear, I know he will scold me. I shall have totell him, but I mustn't tell mother about the man. What shall I tellher? It is dreadful to have to lie, but sometimes one would rather runthe risk of fire and brimstone for one's self than have anybody elsehurt. If I tell mother she will have one of her dreadful nervousattacks. I can't tell her. What shall I tell her, Doctor Elliot?"
"I think the simplest thing will be to say that Miss Lipton persuadedyou to stay to supper, and so you were late, and I overtook you," saidJames.
"Mother will never believe that I stayed so long as that," saidClemency. "I shall have to lie more than that. I don't know exactly whatto say. I could have Charlie Horton come in to play whist, and be takingme home in his buggy. He always drives, and you could meet me on theroad."
"Yes, you could do that."
"It is a very complicated lie," said Clemency, "but I don't know that acomplicated lie is any worse than a simple one. I think I shall have tolie the complicated one. You need not say anything, you know. You cantake the mare to the stable, and I will run in and get the lie all toldbefore you come. You won't lie, will you?"
James could not help laughing. "No, I don't see any need of it," hereplied.
"It is rather awful for you to have to live with people who have to lieso," remarked Clemency, "but I don't see how it can be helped. If youhad seen my mother in one of her nervous attacks once, you would neverwant to see her again. There is only one thing, I do feel very weakstill, and I am afraid I shall look pale. Hold the lines a minute. Don'tpull on them at all. Let them lie on your knees."
"What are you doing?" asked James when he had complied.
"Doing? I am pinching my cheeks almost black and blue, so mother won'tnotice. I don't talk scared now, do I?"
"Not very."
"Well, I think I can manage that. I think I can manage my voice. I amall over being faint. Oh, I will tell you what I will do. You haven'tgot your medicine-case with you, have you?"
"No, I started so hurriedly."
"Well, I will go in the office way. I know where Uncle Tom keepsbrandy, and I will be so chilled that I'll have to take a little beforemother sees me. That will make me all right. I wouldn't take it formyself, but I will for her."
"And you are chilled, all right," said James.
"Yes, I think I am," said Clemency. "I did not think of it, but I guessit was cold there in the woods keeping still so long." Indeed, the girlwas shaking from head to foot, both with cold and nervous terror. "Itwas awful," she said in a little whisper.
James felt the girl shaking from head to foot. Suddenly a greattenderness for the poor, little hunted thing came over him. He put hisarm around her. "Poor little soul," he said. "It must have been terriblefor you lying out there in the cold and dark and not knowing--"
Clemency shrank into his embrace as a hurt child might have done. "Itwas perfectly terrible," she said, with a l
ittle sob. "I didn't know buthe might come back any minute and find me."
"It is all over now," James said soothingly.
"Yes, for the time," Clemency replied with a little note of despair inher voice, "but there is something about it all that I don't understand.Only think how long I have had to stay in the house, and he must havebeen on the watch. I don't know when it is ever going to end."
"I think that I will end it to-morrow," said James with fierceresolution.
"You? How?"
"I am going to put a stop to this. If an innocent girl can't step out ofthe house for weeks at a time without being hounded this way, it is hightime something was done. I am going to get a posse of men and scour thecountry for the scoundrel."
"Oh, will you do that?"
"Yes, I will. It is high time somebody did something."
"You saw him. You know just how he looks?"
"I could tell him from a thousand."
Clemency drew a long breath. "Well," she said doubtfully, "if you can,but--"
"But what?"
"Nothing, only somehow I doubt if Uncle Tom will think it advisable.There must be some mystery about all this or Uncle Tom himself wouldhave done that very thing at first. I don't understand it. But I don'tbelieve Uncle Tom will consent to your hunting for the man. I think forsome reason he wants it kept secret." Suddenly, Clemency gave apassionate little outcry. "Oh, how I do hate secrets!" she said. "How Ihave always hated them! I want everything right out, and here I seem tobe in a perfect snarl of secrets! I wonder how long I shall have to stayin the house."
"Perhaps you are wrong, and your uncle will take measures now this hashappened for the second time," said James.
"No, he won't," replied the girl hopelessly. "I am almost sure that hewill not."
Clemency was right. After she had made her entry and told her little liesuccessfully, and explained that she had taken some brandy because shewas chilled, and Mrs. Ewing had gently scolded her for staying so late,and kissed and embraced her, and gotten back her own composure, DoctorGordon arrived, and James, who had waited for him in the study, told himthe story in whispers. "Now I think you had better let me get a posse ofmen and scour the country to-morrow," he concluded. "It seems to methat this thing has gone far enough."
Doctor Gordon sat huddled up before him in an arm-chair. He had not eventaken off his overcoat, which was white with snow. The storm had begun."It will be easy to track him on account of the snow," added James.
"Tracking is not necessary," replied Gordon, with his haggard face fixedupon James. "I know exactly where the man is, and have known from thefirst."
"Then--" began James.
"You don't know what you are talking about," Gordon said gloomily. "Iwould have that fiend arrested to-morrow. I would have him hung from thenearest tree if I had my way, but I can do absolutely nothing."
"Nothing?"
"No, I can do nothing, except what I have been doing, so far in vain, itseems, to try to tire him out. I traded too much on his impatience, itseemed. I did not think he would have held out so long."
"You mean you will have to keep that poor little thing shut up the wayyou have been doing?"
"I see no other way. God knows I have tried to think of another, day andnight."
"I don't see why you or I could not take her out sometimes when wevisit patients anyway," said James in a bewildered fashion.
"You don't understand," replied Doctor Gordon irritably. "The main pointis: the girl must not be even seen by that man. That is the trouble.Driving, she might be perfectly safe; in fact, in one way she is safeanyhow. She is not in any danger of bodily harm, as you may think, but Idon't want her seen."
"Why not let me take her out sometimes of an evening then?" said James,more and more mystified. "If she wore a veil, and went out driving inthe evening, I can't see how anybody could get a glimpse of her."
"You don't understand that we have to deal with a very devil incarnate,"said Doctor Gordon wearily. "He will be on the watch for just that verymanoeuvre. However, perhaps we may be able to manage that; I will see."
"She will be ill if she remains in the house so closely," said James,"especially a girl like her, who has been accustomed to lead such anoutdoor life. In fact, I don't think she does look very well now. It istelling on her."
"Yes, I think it is," agreed Doctor Gordon gloomily, "but again, I say,I see no other way out of it. However, perhaps you or I can take her outsometimes of an evening. I suppose it had better be you, on someaccounts. I will see. Well, I will take off my coat and get something toeat. I suppose Clara and Clemency have gone to bed."
"They went hours ago," replied James. It was, in fact, two in themorning. James followed the doctor, haggard and weary, into the kitchen,where, according to custom at such times, some dinner had been left tokeep warm on the range. "I'll sit down here," said Doctor Gordon. "It iswarmer than in the dining-room, and I am chilled through. If you don'tmind, Elliot, I wish you would get me a bottle of apple-jack from thedining-room. I must have something to hearten me up, or I shall go bythe board, and I don't know what will become of her--of them."
James sat and waited while the doctor ate and drank. When he hadfinished he looked a little less haggard. He stretched himself beforethe warm glow from the range and laughed. "Now I feel my fighting bloodis up again," he said. "After all, if there is anything in the GoodBook, the wicked shall not always triumph, and I may win out. I shalldo my best anyhow. But I confess you took the wind out of me with whatyou told me when I came in. I am glad Clara does not know. Poor littleClemency having to pave her way with lies, but it would kill Clara. Oh,God, it does seem as if I had enough before. Take my advice, young man,and try to think more of yourself than anybody else in the world. Don'tlet your heart go out to anybody. Just as sure as you do, the door ofthe worst torture-chamber in creation swings open. The minute you becomevulnerable through love, you haven't a strong place in your wholearmor."
"What a doctrine!" observed James.
"I know it, but I have taken a fancy to you, boy; and hang it if I wantyou to suffer as I have to."
"But a man would not be a man at all if he did not think enough ofsomebody to suffer," said James, and now he was thinking of poor littleClemency, and how she had nestled up to him for protection.
"Maybe," said Doctor Gordon gloomily, "but sometimes I wonder whether itpays in the long run to be what you call a man. Sometimes I wish that Iwere a rock or a tree. I do to-night."
"You will feel better after you have had a little sleep," James said,as the two men rose.
Suddenly one of Doctor Gordon's inexplicable changes of mood came overhim. He laughed. "If it were not so late we would go down to GeorgieK.'s," said he. "I never felt more awake. Well, I guess it's too late.You must be dead tired yourself. I have not thanked you at all for yourrescue of the girl. She would have been down with a serious illness ifyou had not gone, for she would have lain in that place being snowedover until somebody came."
"She was mighty clever to do what she did," said James.
"Yes, she is clever," returned Doctor Gordon. "She is a good girl, andit stings me to the very heart that she has to suffer such persecution.Well, 'all's well that ends well.' Did it ever occur to you that Godmade up to mankind for the horrors of creation, by stating that therewould be an end to it some day? Good God, if this terrible world had toroll on to all eternity!" Doctor Gordon laughed again his unnaturallaugh. "Fancy if you were awakened to-night by the last trump," he said."How small everything would seem. Hang it, though, if I wouldn't try tohave a hand at that man's finish before the angel of the Lord got hisflaming sword at work."
James looked at him with terror.
"Don't mind me, boy," said Gordon. "I don't mean to blaspheme; but Jobis not in it with me just now. You cannot imagine what I had to contendwith before this melodramatic villain appeared on the stage. Sometimes Ithink this is the finish," Gordon's mouth contracted. He looked savage.James continued to stare at him. Gordon laid his han
d on James'sshoulder. "Thank the Lord for one thing," he said almost tenderly, "thathe sent you here. Between us we will take care of poor little Clemencyanyhow. Now go to bed, and go to sleep."
James obeyed as to the one, but he could not as to the other. He became,as the hours wore on, so nervous that he was half-inclined to take asleeping powder. The room seemed full of flashes of lightning. He heardsounds which made him cold with horror. He was highly strung nervously,and was really in a state bordering upon hysteria. The mystery whichsurrounded him was the main cause. He was never himself before anunknown quantity. He had too much imagination. He made all sorts ofsurmises as to the stranger who was haunting Clemency. Starting with twoknown quantities, he might have accomplished something, but here he hadonly one: Clemency herself. He had a good head for algebra, but a mancannot work out a problem easily with only one known quantity. He beganto wonder if the poor girl herself were sleeping. He realized a sort ofprotective tenderness for her, and indignation on her behalf. It did notoccur to him as being love. Still the image of her wonderful motherdominated him. But his mind dwelt upon the girl. He thought of a piazzawhose roof opened as he knew upon Clemency's room. He wondered if a manlike that would stick at anything. Then he recalled what Doctor Gordonhad said about Clemency's not being in any bodily danger, and again hespeculated. The room began to grow pale with the late winter dawn.Familiar objects began to gain clearness of outline. There were twowindows in James's room. They gave upon the piazza. Suddenly James madea leap from his bed. He sprang to one of the windows. Flattened againstit was the face of the man. But the face was so destitute ofconsciousness of him, that James doubted if he saw rightly. The wideeyes seemed to gaze upon him without seeing him, the mouth smiled as ifat something within. The next moment James was sure that the face wasnot there. He drew on his trousers, thrust his feet into his shoes, andwas out of his room and the house, and on the piazza. It was stillsnowing, but the dawn was overcoming the storm. The whole world was litwith dead white pallor like the face of a corpse. James rushed thelength of the piazza. He looked at the walk leading to it. He thought hecould distinguish footprints. He looked on the piazza, but the wind,being on the other side of the house, there was not enough snow there tomake footprints visible. The snow on the walk was drifted. He looked atit closely, and made sure of deep marks. He stood for a moment undecidedwhat to do. He disliked to arouse Doctor Gordon. He was afraid ofawakening Mrs. Ewing, if he ventured into the upper part of the house.Then he thought of the man Aaron who slept in a room over the stable. Hereentered the house, locked the front door, went softly into thedoctor's study, and out of the door which was near the stable. Then hemade a hard snowball, and threw it at Aaron's window. The window openeddirectly, and Aaron's head appeared. James could see, even in the dimlight, and presumably just awakened from sleep, the rotary motion of hisjaws. He was probably not chewing anything, simply moving his mouth fromforce of habit. "Hullo!" said Aaron, "that you Doctor Gordon?"
"No, it is I," replied James. "Put on something as quick as you can, andcome down here. Something is wrong."
Aaron's head disappeared. In an incredibly short space of time thestable door was unlocked and slid cautiously back, and Aaron stoodthere, huddled into his clothes. "What's up?" he asked.
"I don't know. Have you got a lantern in the stable?"
"Yep."
"Light it quick, then, and come along with me."
Aaron obeyed. "Anybody sick," he asked, coming alongside with theflashing lantern. He threw a cloth over it so as to prevent the raysshining into the house windows. "I don't want to frighten her," he said,and James knew that he meant Mrs. Ewing. "She's awful nervous," saidAaron. Then he said again, "What's up?"
"I saw a man's face looking into one of my windows," replied James.
Aaron gave a low whistle. "Somebody wanted the doc?" he inquired.
"No," replied James shortly, "it was not."
"Must have been."
"No, it was not."
"Must have been," repeated Aaron, chewing.
"I tell you it was not. I knew--" James stopped. He suddenly wonderedhow much he ought to tell the man, how much Doctor Gordon had told him.
Aaron chewed imperturbably, but a sly look came into his face. "I haveeyes, and they see, and ears, and they hear," he said, after an oddScriptural fashion, "but don't you tell me nothin', Doctor Elliot.Either I take what I get from the fountain-head, or I makes my ownconclusions that I can't help. Don't you tell me nothin'. S'pose we lookan' see ef there's footprints that show anythin'."
Aaron flashed the lantern, all the time carefully shading it from thehouse windows, over the walk which led to the front door and the piazza.James followed him. "Well," said Aaron, "there's been somebody here,but, with snow like this, it might have been a monkey or a rhinocerosor an alligator. You can't make nothin' of them tracks. But they do goout to the road, and turn toward Stanbridge."
"Suppose we--" began James. He was about to suggest following theprints, when he remembered Doctor Gordon's injunction to the contrary.
However, Aaron anticipated him. "Might as well leave the devil alone,"said he. "It might have been the old one himself, for all we can tell bythem tracks. You had better go back to bed, Doctor Elliot. You ain't gotmuch on. It ain't near breakfast time yet. Better go back to bed."
And James thought such a course the wiser one himself. He went back tobed, but not to sleep. He kept his eyes fixed upon the windows. He wasprepared at any instant, should the man reappear, to spring out. He feltalmost murderous. "It has come to a pretty pass," he thought, "if thatscoundrel, whoever he may be, is lurking around the house at night."
The daylight came slowly on account of the storm. When it did come, itwas an opaque white daylight. James began to smell coffee and fryingham. He rose and dressed himself, and looked out of the window. It waslike looking into a blurred mirror. He began to wonder if he could havebeen mistaken, if possibly that face had been simply a vision which hadcome from his overwrought brain. He wondered if he should tell DoctorGordon, if it might not disturb him unnecessarily. He wondered if heshould have enforced secrecy upon Aaron. He was still undecided when theJapanese gong sounded, and he went out to breakfast. Clemency waslooking worn and ill. Somehow the sight of her piteous little facedecided James. He thought how easily an athletic man could climb up oneof those piazza posts, which was, moreover, encircled by a strong oldvine which might almost serve as ladder. He made up his mind to tellDoctor Gordon, and he did tell him when they were out upon their rounds,tilting and sliding along the drifted country roads in an old sleigh. "Idon't think I can be mistaken," he said when he had finished.
Doctor Gordon looked at him intently. "You are sure," he said. "You area nervous subject for a man, and you had not slept, and you had this manvery much on your mind, and there must have been some snow on thewindow which could produce an illusion. Be very sure, because this isserious."
James thought again of Clemency's little white face. "Yes," he said, "Iam sure."
"You have no doubt at all?"
"None. The man had his face staring into the room. He did not seem tosee me, but looked past me at the bed."
"He might easily have thought that room, being on the ground floor andaccessible to night-calls, was mine," said Doctor Gordon, as if tohimself.
"I thought how easily he could have climbed up one of the piazza poststo her room," said James.
The Doctor started. "Yes, that is so," he said. "He might have had twomotives. That is so."
The next call was at a patient's who had a slight attack of grippe.Doctor Gordon left James there, saying that he would make another calland be back for him directly. James noticed how he urged the horses outof the drive at almost a run. He was back soon, and James having made uphis prescription, went out and got into the sleigh. Doctor Gordon lookedat him gloomily. "He is no longer where he has been staying," he said,and his face settled into a stern melancholy. That evening, although thestorm continued, he suggested a visit to Georgie K
.'s; and at suppertime he insisted upon Clemency's occupying another room that night. "Thewind is on your side of the house," he said, "and I am afraid you willtake more cold." Clemency stared and pouted, then said, "All right,Uncle Tom!"
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