The Hundredth Chance

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER XI

  THE DECLARATION OF WAR

  For three weeks after that Sunday visit to Jake's home, life went on asusual, and a certain measure of tranquillity returned to Maud.

  She found herself able to meet the man without any show ofembarrassment, and, finding him absolutely normal in his behaviourtowards her, she began to feel a greater confidence in his presence. Hehad promised that he would not force himself upon her, and it wasevident that he had every intention of keeping his word. That he mightby imperceptible degrees draw nearer to her, become more intimate, was apossibility that for a time troubled her; but he was so absolutelyconsiderate in all his dealings with her that this fear of hers atlength died away. If he were playing a waiting game he did it with apatience so consummate that his tactics were wholly hidden from her. Hehad to all appearances accepted her decision as final, and put thenotion away as impracticable.

  Christmas was drawing near, and several visitors had already arrived.There was generally a short season at Christmas, during which the AnchorHotel had its regular patrons. Its landlord was in an extremelyvariable state of mind, sometimes aggressive, sometimes jovial,frequently not wholly sober. Maud avoided all contact with him withrigorous persistence, her mother's protests notwithstanding.

  "He can't be civil to me," she said, "and he shall not have theopportunity of being anything else."

  And no persuasion could move her from this attitude. Mrs. Sheppard wasobliged reluctantly to abandon the attempt. She herself was seldom outof favour with her husband, whatever his condition, and that after allwas what mattered most.

  But the state of affairs was such as was almost bound to lead to aclimax sooner or later. Giles Sheppard's hectoring mood was not of thesort to be satisfied for long with passive avoidance. Every glimpse hehad of the girl, who ate his bread but disdained to do so in his companyor 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 notfar to seek.

  One day about a week before Christmas he unexpectedly presented himselfat the door of Bunny's room.

  The weather was damp and raw, and a cheerful fire burned there. Bunnywas lying among pillows on the sofa. He had had a bad night, and hisface, 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 roomis wanted."

  Maud, who was dusting the room as was her daily custom, turned swiftlyround with something of the movement of a tigress. Her face was palealso. She had slept even less than Bunny the previous night. Her blueeyes 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 finemadam," he said. "This room is wanted. The boy will have to go with therest 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 couldendure--or so she fancied--his personal hostility with fortitude. Buthis 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 ather command. "Surely some other arrangement can be made?"

  Sheppard growled out a strangled oath; she always made him feel at adisadvantage, this slip of a girl whom he could have picked up with onehand had he chosen.

  "I tell you, this room is wanted," he reiterated stormily. "You'd betterclear 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 amquite sure no visitor who knew the facts of the case would wish to turnhim out."

  Sheppard stamped a furious foot. He was getting up his fury; andsuddenly she saw that he had been drinking. The knowledge came upon herin a flash of understanding, and with it a disgust so complete that itoverwhelmed every other consideration.

  She pointed to the door. "Go!" she said, in tense, frozen accents. "Goat once! How dare you come in here in this state?"

  Before her withering disdain he drew back, as it were involuntarily. Heeven half turned to obey. Then, suddenly some devil prompted him, andhe swung back again. With one gigantic stride he reached the sofa; andbefore either brother or sister knew what he intended to do he hadroughly seized upon the boy's slight body and lifted it in his greatarms.

  Bunny's agonized outcry at the action mingled with his sister's, but itceased almost immediately. He collapsed in the giant grip like an emptysack, and Sheppard, now wrought to a blind fury that had no thought forconsequences, carried him from the room and along the passage to thestairs, utterly unheeding the fact that he had fainted.

  Maud, nearly beside herself, went with him, striving to support the limpbody where long experience had taught her support was needed. They wentup the stairs so, flight after flight, Sheppard savage and stubborn, thegirl in a dumb agony of anxiety, seeking only to relieve the dreadfulstrain that had bereft Bunny of his senses.

  They reached at length a room at the top of the house, a bare garret ofa place with sloping ceiling and uncarpeted floor. There was a bedunder the skylight, and on this the man deposited his burden.

  Then he turned and looked at Maud with eyes of cruel malevolence. "Thisis 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. Hewas 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 herdelicacy of form and fibre. Again he knew himself to be at adisadvantage. He had not drunk enough to be intrepid. Swearing andmalignant, he withdrew like a savage beast. But as he went, the madnessof 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 proclaimedhim a drunkard, a coward, a bully! And she thought he would put up withit. Did she? Did she? Thought she could insult him with impunity inhis own house! Thought he would tamely endure her impertinences for alltime! He ground his teeth as he went down to the bar. He would have areckoning with her presently. Yes, there should be a reckoning. He hadborne with her too long--too long! Now matters had come to a head. Shewould either have to humble herself or go.

  He had tried to be patient. He had hoped that Jake Bolton would soonrelieve him of the unwelcome burden he had taken upon himself. Jakecould tame her; he was quite sure of that. But Jake seemed to be makingno headway. He had even begun to wonder lately if Jake meant businessafter all.

  In any case he was at the end of his patience; and when his wife came tohim with tears to remonstrate on behalf of poor little Bunny he hardenedhimself against her and refused to discuss the subject.

  As for Maud, she spent the rest of the day in trying to make Bunny's newquarters habitable. She hoped with all her heart that Jake would comein the evening so that they could move him into the room she occupied, afloor lower, which had at least a fireplace. But for once Jakedisappointed her, and so the whole day passed in severe pain for Bunnyand vexation of spirit for her.

  Towards evening to her relief he began to doze. She watched beside himanxiously. He had been very plucky, displaying an odd protectiveattitude towards herself that had gone to her heart; but she knew thatat times he had suffered intensely and the fact had been almost morethan she could bear. She knew that it would be days before he wouldshake off the effects of the rough handling he had received, and shedreaded the future with a foreboding that made her feel physically sick.

  Now that Sheppard's animo
sity had developed into active hostility, sheknew that the situation could not last much longer, but how to escape itremained 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 shecould appeal. Alone, she could have faced the world and somehow made away for herself; but with Bunny-- She clenched her hands in impotentanguish. There was only one person in the world willing to lift theburden from her, only one person besides herself who really cared forBunny. She suddenly began to tremble. That sense of approaching doomwas upon her again. The current had caught her surely, surely, and waswhirling her away.

  Bunny stirred--as though somehow caught in the net of heremotions--stirred and came out of uneasy slumber.

  "I say, Maud!"

  "What is it, darling? Are you uncomfortable?" There was a wealth ofmother-love in her low voice as she bent above him.

  Bunny put out a cold, moist hand. "I say, Maud," he said again, "Jake'sa 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 andclosing in the restless way he had. "I like him too," he said. "I likehim awfully. He's--the real thing. I wish----"

  "What, Bunny?" There was constraint in her voice, and she knew it, butit 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 itshe and Bunny ate the supper which Maud herself had fetched from thekitchen. No one had time to wait upon them. The boy was still tryingto 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 hisdrawn brows. "Look here, Maud! There's that bed in the corner. Can'tyou make it comfortable and get a good night for once?"

  She looked at him in surprise. It was very unusual for Bunny to give athought to her comfort.

  "Yes, I want you to," he said. "Go and undress, and then bring yourblankets up here! You can't sit up all night in a straight-backedchair, 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 crippledframe-work, but it had a mattress of straw albeit bedclothes werelacking. Bunny's suggestion seemed feasible, and since it was plainthat he would not be content unless she followed it she yielded withoutdemur. Her own room was only a flight of stairs away, and she hadalready fetched several things from it for his comfort. She hoped toget him down to it on the following day, if only Jake would come. Itwas neither warm nor spacious, but it was preferable to this firelessattic.

  She brought the blankets, and arranged the bed. "I don't think I'llundress, Bunny," she said.

  "You are to," said Bunny. "Jake says no one can possibly rest properlywithout."

  She was inclined to resent this assertion of Jake's teaching, but againshe yielded. Bunny was in a mood to work himself into a fever if hisbehests were not obeyed.

  She went down and undressed therefore, and presently slipped up to himagain, 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 likestones. Where's the fur rug?"

  She looked round for it. "Oh, Bunny, I'm so sorry. I must have left itin your room downstairs. Never mind! Here's a blanket instead!"

  She was already pulling it off her bed when Bunny asserted himself oncemore.

  "Maud, I won't have it! I will not have it! Do you hear? Put it backagain! 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, asBunny said, it was probable that everyone had retired, for the hour waslate. Only a few dim lights were left burning in the passages. Therewould be no one about, and it would not take two minutes to slip downand get the rug. She dropped the blanket he had refused, and wentsoftly out.