An Oregon Girl: A Tale of American Life in the New West

by Alfred Ernest Rice

  When John Thorpe, closely followed by Rutley, entered the greatballroom in search of Corway, the guests who saw him were struck withthe pallor of his face and the strangely piercing yet lustreless darkeyes that shone out from beneath his shaggy, frowning eyebrows. Hiscold, stony look repelled all smiles and discouraged all questions.Through the room he strode, regardless alike of the timid whisperingsof women and offended stare of men. He cared not what they thought,for every sentiment of rudeness or discourtesy, every tender feelingof grief or pain, was drowned by his one great mad, overpoweringpassion to wreak summary vengeance on the author of his bitter shame.

  Not for a moment had he suspected "My Lord's" integrity and utterdisinterestedness, and the maddening fire of his disgrace kindledwithin him and fanned to a crucible heat by Rutley burned withunquenchable fury.

  Men of the temperament of John Thorpe are not blessed with a stoicalmind in moments of great excitement, nor are they apt to pause andtranquilly reason out the pros and cons of this most prolific sourceof human tragedies.

  He had loved his wife too fondly and too well to go and openly chargeher with unfaithfulness.

  His life heretofore had been very happy, but now the first "damnedspot" in the clear blue of his domestic horizon would not out, thefeeling of suspicion would not smother. And it grew and enlarged withamazing rapidity, and haunted him till the very thought of Corwayaroused his latent jealousy to a pitch that became unbearable. Rutleyhad developed the demon within him.

  The love that had become a fixed part of his being, flooding him withits radiance, had been violently wrenched from his heart, and hisonly, all-absorbing, insatiable desire was to confront the man who wasresponsible for it.

  Oh, for the frailty of human happiness!

  Out near the steps of the east piazza a group of ladies and gentlemen,composed of Mr. and Mrs. Harris, Mr. Corway and Hazel were chattingmerrily about the new waltz and incidentally they had referred to theprolonged absence of "My Lord" and John Thorpe from the ballroom. Mrs.Harris discovered them on the piazza approaching the steps andexclaimed, "Ah, here come the truants."

  Without a moment's hesitation, John Thorpe descended the steps alone,Rutley remaining on the piazza.

  "Mr. Harris," said John Thorpe in a husky voice, "in the name of thesociety whom he contaminates, I demand that you eject that man fromthis place."

  This peremptory and extraordinary demand, coupled with itsinsinuation, stunned the hearers, who looked from one to the other instartled amazement.

  The dead silence that followed was broken by Mr. Harris, who answeredin a grave, dazed way, as thoughts of Thorpe's sanity flitted throughhis brain, "But, Thorpe! I--what--I don't think--my hearing is notexactly right of late. I did not understand--"

  Without removing his steady gaze from Corway, Mr. Thorpe reiteratedhis words slowly and with stinging accentuation, "I demand that youeject that man from this place," and he pointed his fingerdramatically at Corway, while glints of merciless intent shot from hiseyes.

  The red flushed into Mr. Harris's face as he realized the indignityhis guests and himself were being subjected to.

  "Thorpe--John--you are insulting all of us. Mr. Corway is my guest. Whatis the meaning of this affront to my hospitality?"

  "To defend my honor!" cried the distracted man, lost to all sense ofpropriety or decorum, "or to add my blood to the other crimes thatdisgrace him."

  "In the name of all that's astounding, what do you mean, Thorpe?"exclaimed Corway.

  "I mean that I intend to avenge the irreparable wrong I havesuffered," replied Mr. Thorpe, fairly hissing the words from betweenhis teeth.

  "Irreparable wrong! To whom do you refer?"

  "To you, scoundrel! Tell how you came by that ring!"

  Mr. Harris had listened to the two men with ill-concealed impatience,but when Mr. Thorpe called Mr. Corway, one of his guests, a scoundrel,and dangerous business appearing imminent, he could control hisindignation no longer and shouted, "Mr. Thorpe's carriage immediately!Here, Sam, your assistance. Wells, get some more help to maintainorder."

  The words had scarcely been uttered, when Sam, who had appeared withVirginia on the piazza, sprang down the steps to his uncle'sassistance. They were quickly joined by the coachman and gardener who,having chanced to meet in a nearby secluded angle of the porch, hadheard the loud, passionate words and were at once available for duty.

  "Hold, Mr. Harris!" spoke up Corway, who seemed to be less disturbedthan either Thorpe or his host, "don't be hasty in this matter! Mr.Thorpe is certainly laboring under some delusion."

  "I will not listen to you," replied Mr. Harris, now worked up to afury. "Mr. Thorpe's conduct is outrageous. Away with him to hiscarriage."

  "I guess so!" responded Sam, pulling off his coat and looking at hisuncle sideways, "stampede the corral, eh, uncle? That's what youwant!"

  "Away with him!" repeated Mr. Harris, gesticulating with his armswildly.

  The two lackeys advanced, encouraged no doubt by the assurance ofSam's assistance.

  They were brought to an abrupt halt by Corway, who stepped in front ofthem and declared with heat, "Stand back! I demand an explanation!"

  In a low, hoarse voice that quivered with the intensity of hispassion, with ghastly white face, and glittering eyes that flashed thelie to his forced calmness, Thorpe replied: "You shall haveit--blackguard, liar, and coward!" With which he struck Corway on themouth with the back of his closed hand.

  Corway passionately rushed at him and attempted to strike, but Mr.Harris sprang between them and caught his upraised arm, and with thehelp of Sam, separated them.

  When Sam sprang down the steps to his uncle's assistance, Virginia wasleft standing on the piazza watching the progress of the quarrel withintense interest and also evidently alarmed at the violent passion herbrother displayed.

  With a woman's intuition, she surmised that Rutley had worked onJohn's jealous susceptibilities with merciless finesse.

  Rutley, who was watching her, noted her alarmed expression, andfeeling it to be a sign of weakening purpose, stepped over and stoodbeside her, so silently that she was quite unaware of his presence.

  "It's a horrible wrong," she muttered.

  The words were caught by Rutley, and he whispered, so close as tostartle her, "Remember the wrong Corway has done you."

  The excited men barely had been separated when Corway spoke withpassionate emphasis, "You shall hear from me."

  "Quite soon enough for your courage," sneered Thorpe.

  "No, no, my brother shall not fight with him!" exclaimed Virginia,appalled at the magnitude the quarrel had assumed.

  Swiftly she glanced at Rutley and said with tremulous lips: "What haveyou told him to cause such fearful passion?"

  "What you bade me," he coolly replied, and with a gloating smile onhis lips, added: "The result is what you wanted, isn't it?"

  "Not so terrible," she gasped. "There must be some awful mistake."

  And Rutley's smile deepened, but as he looked into her horrified eyesand blanched face, and noted the change from vengeance to anxiety andconsternation fast coming over her, he knew but too well when thechange was complete, in a moment of frenzied zeal to explain and saveher brother, she, womanlike, was likely to undo and wreck all hiswork.

  He realized that the moment was fraught with the gravest danger to hisplans and person, and he acted quickly, but with the utmost coolness.

  Her hand held straight down by her side was closed tightly, expressiveof immediate and determined action.

  He gripped her wrist. It hurt her. The action concealed from others bythe folds of her dress, succeeded in diverting her attention, and hefollowed it up by whispering, so that she alone heard him,"Remember--the material you gave me; Corway has met his deserts and youare avenged!"

  And then the voice of Constance cleft the air, in a wild, terrifyingscream. "John, John! Save Dorothy! She's adrift on the water."

  Her piercing cry freighted with a mother's anguish, at once filled allwho
heard it with consternation, in the midst of which Mrs. Harrisexclaimed, "Dear me, how dreadful it all is!"

  All turned in the direction of the cry and almost immediatelyConstance, in an agony of despair, and deathly white, franticallyrushed among them.

  She looked appealingly from one to the other, her heart in her throatand pathos in her voice. "I heard her cry, 'Mama! Papa! Help! Saveme!' Oh, will no one rescue my darling?"

  "I'm off," said Sam, in his short, sententious way, and rushed towardthe river.

  The sudden strain on her nerves was greater than Constance could bear.

  Naturally of a weak constitution, the ordeal was overpowering; themother's affection, forming a magnetic part of her heart, leapt out toher child and left her numb and cold almost unto death, and then herlimbs trembled, and with Sam's words ringing in her ears, down shesank, a senseless being.

  Virginia's consternation was complete. She rushed down the steps,knelt beside her prostrate form, thrust her arm lovingly under herhead and sobbed: "Constance! Dear Constance! Don't give way so.Dorothy will be found."