The Dust of Conflict

by Harold Bindloss

  XX -- FOUND GUILTY

  TWO or three weeks had passed since the concert on the Low Wood lawn,and Therese Clavier had gone back into the obscurity she came from, whenNettie Harding once more stood beside the effigy in Northrop church. Itwas then late in the afternoon, and the little ancient building wasgrowing shadowy. Hester Earle and Violet Wayne were moving about theaisle with bundles of wheat-ears and streamers of ivy, for the harvestthanksgiving was shortly to be celebrated, while the vicar stood waitingtheir directions on the chancel steps with a great handful of crimsongladioli.

  Nettie, however, noticed none of them. She was lost in reflection, andher eyes were fixed on the grim stone face. She had gazed at it oftenwith a vague sense of comprehension and a feeling that the contemplationof it brought within her grasp the spirit of the chivalrous past.Loyalty, she felt, was the predominative motive in the sculptured face,though it bore the stamp of stress and weariness; and she stood verystill struggling with a half-formed resolution as she gazed at it.

  Hester's voice rose softly from the aisle, and there was a patter offeet and swish of draperies, but it was low, as though the girl who madeit felt the silence of the place. The door beside the organ was openwide, and Nettie could hear a faint rustle of moving leaves, and thesighing of a little warm wind about the church, while, lifting her head,she caught a brief glimpse of the dusky beech woods and sunlit valley.It was all very still, impressively quiet, and she felt the peace of it;but it was not peace, but something born of strife and yet akin to ither fancy strained after, and once more she seemed to hear the stridentcrackle of riflery and the shouts of the Sin Verguenza. The greenEnglish valley faded, and she saw in place of it the white walls of theCuban town rise against the dusky indigo. Then once more she could dimlyrealize the calm that came of a high purpose, and was beyond and greaterthan the peace of prosperity. She had seen it beneath the stress andweariness in the faces of the marble knight and a living man.

  Then with a little swift move of her shoulders she shook off thefancies, and fell to considering the task which it seemed was laidbefore her. She had made a friend of Bernard Appleby and that meant muchwith her; while ever since she had heard Miss Clavier's story the desireto right him had been growing stronger, but she had unpleasantmisgivings. She felt the responsibility of breaking the smooth course ofother lives almost too great for her, and wondered vaguely whether ifshe declared the truth in that sheltered land where nothing that wasstartling or indecorous ever seemed to happen anybody would believe her.She might even have kept silent had Violet Wayne been different, butNettie already entertained an affection that was largely respectful forher, and determined that if she married Tony Palliser she should atleast do so knowing what kind of man he was. Once more, however, herresolution almost failed her, and she glanced at the great glitteringangel in the west window with a sense of her presumption in venturing tomeddle with the great scheme of destiny. Still, Nettie was daring, andturning suddenly she looked down into the stone face again.

  "I think you would understand, and at least you would not be afraid.Well, the man who is very like you shall have his rights," she said.

  The stillness seemed to grow more intense, the calm face more resolute,while the spirit of the dead sculptor's conception gripped the girl asit had never done before. She felt that her duty was plain before her,and that fears and misgivings must be trampled on. Then there was a stepbehind her, and she saw Hester looking at her with a little smile.

  "Were you talking to the effigy, Nettie?" she said.

  "Yes," said Nettie quietly. "I think I was. There is no reason youshouldn't laugh if you want to, but I seem to fancy that man understandsme. What you will not believe, however, is that he answered me."

  Hester appeared a trifle astonished, but she smiled again. "I saw youturn and look at the figure in the west window," she said. "Were youholding communion with the angel too?"

  "No," said Nettie with a curious naive gravity. "I'm quite open to admitI don't know much about angels--I've only seen pictures of them. Still, Isometimes think there's a little of their nature in the hearts of men.That man must have had it, and the Palliser who was killed in Africa hadit too. Of course, that's not the kind of talk you would expect from anAmerican."

  Hester realized by the last trace of irony that Nettie did not desire topursue the topic, and looking round saw that the vicar had joined themunobserved. He was a quiet man with an ascetic face, but there was alittle twinkle in his eyes.

  "Yes," he said. "I admit I overheard. It seems to me that Miss Harding'sattitude is perfectly comprehensible."

  Hester laughed. "That," she said, "is convincing, coming from you. Inthe meanwhile I am positively thirsty, and tea will be waiting at LowWood. You may as well come over with us now since we expect you atdinner."

  It was, however, half an hour later when they left the rectory andwalked through the fields to Low Wood with Tony, who had been waitingthem. Nettie laughed and talked to the vicar with her usual freedom, butshe was also sensible of a quiet resolution. Violet Wayne should knowthe truth and Appleby's name be cleared, but she was shrewd, and saw thedifficulty of attesting it convincingly. She was also very fair, anddecided that Tony must have an opportunity of defending himself oradmitting his offence. Now and then she felt her heart throbbing as shewondered whether she would fail at her task, but she shook off hermisgivings, and it was only afterwards the vicar guessed at the strugglethat went on within his companion.

  They were sitting about the little table on the lawn when an opportunitywas made for her, and the scene long remained impressed on Nettie'smemory. The old house showed cool and gray between its wrappings ofcreepers that were flecked with saffron now, while here and there atendril gleamed warm crimson against the stone. Its long shadow layblack upon the velvet grass, and there were ruddy gleams from thewoodlands from which the yellow light was fading beyond the moss-crustedwall. Still, the river shone dazzlingly where it came rippling out ofthe gloom of a copse, and a long row of windows blinked in the buildingbeside its bank.

  Nettie noticed this vacantly, for it was Tony and Violet Wayne she waslooking at. The man lay with a curious languid gracefulness in hischair, his straw hat on the back of his head and a smile on his lips,though Nettie fancied that she saw care in his face. Violet sat erectlooking down the valley with thoughtful eyes, and though every line ofher figure suggested quiet composure it seemed to Nettie that her facewas a trifle too colorless, and that her big gray eyes lackedbrightness. She could almost fancy that the shadow of care which restedon Tony had touched his sweetheart too. Opposite them sat the vicar, whohad, Nettie understood, been a close friend of the Pallisers, and HesterEarle was busy with her spirit kettle close beside him. The latterlooked up suddenly.

  "I can't help thinking that the Americans are a somewhat inconsistentpeople," she said. "It is only a little while since Nettie fanciedherself a torpedo, and yet I found her explaining her sentiments to themarble knight this afternoon."

  "Well," said Nettie with a little smile, though she could feel her heartbeating, "I feel more like a torpedo than ever just now."

  Hester nodded. "That is more or less comprehensible," she said. "Atorpedo is an essentially modern thing stored with potential activitiesand likely to go off and startle everybody when they least expect it,all of which is characteristically American. The marble knight--and Ifancy some people would include the angel--belongs to the past, to theold knightly days when women were worshipped, men believed in saints andguardian angels, and faith wrought miracles."

  The vicar glanced at Nettie as he said, "Extremes meet now and then."

  "Well," said Nettie, "women are made much of in my country still, evenby impecunious Englishmen who claim descent from men who did their sharein those days of chivalry. That is, when they have money enough, butjust now I'm not going to be too prickly. You haven't much voice,Hester, but you sing that little jingly song about the fairies quiteprettily, and the notion it's hung upon gets hold of me. I can feel itbetter in No
rthrop church than anywhere. You know what I mean. There isvery little to keep us out of fairyland. You have but to touch with yourfinger tips the ivory gate and golden!"

  "If Hester understands your meaning I admit that it's more than I do,"said Tony.

  "Still," said Nettie naively, "I didn't think you would. You have toomany possessions, and, you see, there are limitations in the song. Youmight knock a long while at those ivory gates before they let you in."

  There was a little laughter, in which Tony joined, and the vicar said,"Excellent! He deserved it. Please don't stop. Miss Harding."

  "That's not necessary," said Hester. "Once Nettie gets started shegenerally, as she would express it, goes straight through."

  "Yes," said Nettie, "I quite often do. I'm not in the least afraid, likeyou, of being thought sentimental. In fact, we are fond of tellingpeople what we think in my country. Still, I'm not sure about thoselimitations. The gates should open to everybody, even business men andheiresses--but I don't want to go trespassing while the vicar's here."

  The vicar nodded. "I claim you as an ally," he said, "The idea you havetaken up is not, however, exactly a novel one."

  "Well," said Nettie, "what I feel is this. The old loyal spirit isliving still--because it belongs to all time and can never die. It's withus now in these days of steam engines and magazine rifles. Those old-time men wore their labels--the monk's girdle, the red-cross shield, thepalmer's shell, and some, according to the pictures, the nimbus too; butcan't modern men, even those who play poker, which is a game of nerve aswell as chance, and smoke green cigars, be as good as they? Now, I don'tlike a man to be ostensibly puritanical and ascetic--unless, of course,he's a clergyman."

  There was a little laughter, and the vicar shook his head. "I'm afraidthey don't all come under that category," he said.

  "Still, there are men who never did a mean thing or counted the costwhen they saw what was expected of them. Can't one fancy their passingthe gates of that fairyland the easier because they are stained with thedust of the strife, and reaching out towards communion with the spiritsof those old loyal folk who went before them--they, and the women theybelieve in?"

  There was a moment's silence. Nettie's face was a trifle flushed, and afaint gleam showed in Violet Wayne's gray eyes.

  "I think," said the vicar reflectively, "you might go further and say--with all angels and archangels! We will take it that fairyland is only asymbol."

  Tony, however, laughed indolently. "One would feel tempted to wonderwhether there are many men who never did a mean thing."

  A curious anger came upon Nettie. Tony Palliser seemed the embodiment ofall that her simple strenuous nature despised, and he who had everythinghad taken from a better man the blameless name which was his onepossession. He sat before her honored and prosperous, while sheremembered Appleby's weariness and rags, and obeyed the impulse thatdrove her to unmask him. Her answer was coldly incisive.

  "There are. You know one of them," she said.

  "No," said Tony, and there was a trace of anxiety in his glance, "I amnot sure that I do, though I have some passable friends."

  "Well," said Nettie, "I certainly met one, and he did not wear a label.In fact, he was a smuggler of rifles and a leader of the ShamelessLegion, but he was very loyal to his comrades, and when he was woundedand weary with battle he risked and lost a good deal to take care of awoman who had no claim on him. She had, he felt, been committed to histrust, and he would have been torn to pieces before he failed in it.That was why the knight's face reminded me of his--but I have told youabout him already."

  Tony's face expressed relief, and Nettie sat silent a moment until thevicar said, "It was a generous impulse, but it may have been a momentaryone, while in the crusader's case there must have been a sustainingpurpose, and a great abnegation, a leaving of lands and possessions hemight never regain."

  Nettie realized that her task must be undertaken now, and wondered thatshe felt so quietly and almost mercilessly collected.

  "Still," she said, "the man I mentioned did as much--not to win fame or apardon for his sins, but to save a comrade who was not worthy of thesacrifice. You would like me to tell you about it?"

  Hester smiled in languid approbation, and the vicar's face showed hisinterest; but Tony sat very still, with the fingers of one handquivering a little, and Violet's eyes seemed curiously grave as shefixed them upon the girl.

  "Then," said Nettie, "I will try, though it isn't exactly a pleasantstory. There was a man in England who involved himself with a girl whom,because of your notions in this country, he could not marry. It was onlya flirtation, but the girl's father made the most of it, and raisedtrouble for the man when he wanted to marry a woman of his own degree.He had done nothing wrong as yet, but he was weak--so he sent his friendto bluff off the man who had been squeezing money out of him."

  Tony made a little abrupt movement, and a tinge of gray showed in hischeek, but it passed unnoticed by all save Nettie Harding. The vicar waswatching her with a curious intentness, and there was apprehension inViolet's face, while Hester gazed steadily at Nettie with growingastonishment.

  "It was at night the friend met the blackmailer," she said. "There wasan altercation, and then a struggle. Still, the blackmailer was notseriously hurt, and the other man saw him walk away. It was not untilnext day they found he had fallen into a river from the bridge."

  She stopped a moment, and Violet turned to her, very white in face, witha great horror in her eyes.

  "You venture to tell me this?" she said.

  "Yes," said Nettie, glancing at Tony. "It hurts me, but it's necessary.If you do not believe me ask the man who sent his friend to meet the manhe dared not face."

  There was a sound that suggested a gasp, and a dress rustled softly asViolet, moving a little, closed one hand, while Tony's face showed grayand drawn as he leaned forward in his chair. It was, however, the vicarwho broke the tense silence.

  "Since you have told us so much, Miss Harding, I must ask you to go on,"he said.

  "Then," said Nettie, "the friend gave up everything, and took the blamethat his comrade might marry the woman he loved, He went to America--andwhen he comes back there from Cuba we will find room for him."

  "I think," said the vicar very slowly, "in order to make quite sure oneof us should ask you for his name."

  Nettie glanced at Violet, who made a little sign.

  "It was Bernard Appleby," she said.

  Then Violet turned to Tony, and her voice, which was low and strained,sent a little thrill through the listeners.

  "Speak!" she said. "Tony, you can, you must, controvert it!"

  Tony rose very slowly to his feet, and the courage of desperation washis. "I can't. Miss Harding is quite correct," he said. "I must ask therest to leave us. This affair is ours--mine and Violet's only, you see."

  "He is right," said the vicar, rising. "I will ask you to let the storygo no further in the meanwhile, Miss Harding. There is, I think, onlyone thing Mr. Palliser can do, but the responsibility is his."

  The others went away with him, and for a moment or two Violet and Tonystood face to face. Then when the man would have spoken the girl turnedfrom him with a little gesture of repulsion.

  "No," she said faintly. "It is too horrible. I can bear nothing furthernow."

  She swept away from him, and Tony, standing rigidly still with handsclenched, let her go. Then he turned and strode with bent head acrossthe lawn.

  Five minutes later Hester Earle, entering one of the rooms quietly withthe vicar, found Nettie lying in a chair and apparently shivering. Shelooked up when she saw them, and then turned her head away.

  "Oh, I know you don't want to talk to me!" she said. "Still, though Ifeel most horribly mean, I did it because I had to."

  "Yes," said the vicar gently, "I think I understand. It must have costyou a good deal--and I fancy you were warranted."

  "Then go away, both of you, and leave me alone," said Nettie faintly.

  They turned a
way, and met Violet Wayne in the hall. She made a littlegesture when she saw their faces, as though to warn them from anyexpression of sympathy.

  "You will excuse me, Hester," she said very quietly. "I think I wouldsooner walk home alone. I will not ask you to remember that what youheard concerns only Tony and me."

  Then she turned and left them, walking slowly, and holding herself verystraight with an effort.