The Hundredth Chance

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER XX

  DELIVERANCE

  She stared at him vaguely for a space half in wonder, half in fear. Hislook was very intent, but it was without anger. She wondered hazilywhat 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. "Youare here in the old parlour with me. I brought you here."

  "Oh?" She gazed around her doubtfully. Her brain felt clogged anddull. "Have I been away then?" she said. "Where is Bunny?"

  He rose and moved across the room to the fire. "Bunny is at school," hesaid, and stooped to lift off a saucepan. "Yes, you have been away. Youcame back from Liverpool yesterday."

  "Ah!" She gave a quick gasp. The mists were beginning to clear alittle. She became dimly conscious that there was something terriblebehind. She raised herself on her elbow, but was instantly assailed bya feeling of sickness so intense that she sank back again.

  She was lying with closed eyes when Jake came back to her. He bent overher 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 hashappened? 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, andshe suddenly realized that resistance was useless.

  He was very gentle with her, feeding her spoonful by spoonful; andgradually as she swallowed it she revived. Her brain stirred and seemedto awake. Memory came crowding back. Long ere the cup was finished,that last scene in the music-room hung before her like a lurid picturefrom which she could not tear her gaze.

  Quietly Jake set aside the cup. "Maybe you'll sleep better now," hesaid.

  She lifted her heavy eyes to his. "No, I don't want to sleep anylonger. Jake, you--you are not going away!"

  He seemed on the point of rising. She stretched out a beseeching handand 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 thoughtthere was a glitter of hardness in the red-brown eyes as he said, "Thereis no call for you to tell me anything unless you wish."

  She sat up slowly, compelling herself to face him, "But I want youto--understand," she said.

  He laid his hand abruptly upon hers with a gesture that almost seemed asif 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 tosee the awful flare of savage passion leap back into his eyes. But shelooked in vain. His eyes baffled her. They seemed to hold her backlike a sword in the hand of a practised fencer.

  The words she had thought to utter died upon her lips. There was to beno reckoning then. And yet she could not feel reassured. He did notlook 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, softlydrawling. "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, whollyuncivilized, behind his look. There was a suggestion of violence abouthim. She saw him as a man tracking his enemy through an endlesswilderness, breasting mighty rivers, hewing his way through pathlessforests, conquering every obstacle with fixed determination, mercilesslyriding him down.

  She braced herself and rose, drawing her hand free. Her head stillswam, but she controlled herself resolutely. She stood before him likea prisoner upon trial.

  "Jake," she said, "I am going to tell you something that will make youterribly angry; but it's something that you must know."

  She paused, but he sat in silence, grimly watching her. She found herresolution wavering and gripped it with all her strength.

  "When I came back here from Liverpool, it was not--not to see my motheras I gave you to understand. It was to--to--" She faltered under hislook, found she could not continue, and suddenly threw out her hands inpiteous 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 thatyou lied to me?" he said.

  She drew back from him sharply. The question felt like a blow. "I amtelling you the truth now," she said.

  "And for whose sake?" He flung the words brutally, as a man goadedbeyond endurance. But the moment they were uttered he drew a hardbreath as though he would recall them. He came to her, took her by theshoulders. "You take my advice!" he said. "Leave the whole miserablebusiness alone! You've been tricked--badly tricked. You have appealedto me to protect you, and that's enough. I don't want any more thanthat. I reckon I understand the situation better than you think. Youare trying to tell me that it was your original intention to elope withSaltash. Well, maybe it was. But you had given up the notion before youwent to him at the Castle, and he knew you had given it up. If hehadn't known it, he wouldn't have taken the trouble to drug you. It'san 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. Iguessed it would. And that's what he's going to answer to me for,--whathe'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--youcan punish me in any other way. I'll bear anything but that--anythingbut that!"

  Piteously she besought him, shaken to the soul by the grim purport ofhis speech. She did not flinch from him now. Rather she appealed tohim as one in sore straits, pouring out her entreaty with all thatremained of her quivering strength.

  And her words made an impression upon him of which she was instantlyaware. 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 adawning compassion.

  "Reckon you're the last person that deserves punishing," he said atlength, and in his voice she fancied she caught an echo of the old frankkindliness. "You've been the victim all through. Reckon you'vesuffered more than enough already."

  She hid her face from him with a sudden rush of tears. Something in hiswords 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 onceshe had poured out all her troubles to him.

  He did not kneel beside her now. He stood in silence, and as he stoodhis hands slowly clenched and he thrust them into his pockets.

  He spoke at last, but it was with a restraint that made the words soundcold. "Maybe I know you better than you think. I know you've cared forthe wrong man ever since I first met you. Guess I've known it allalong, and it hasn't made things extra easy for either of us, moreespecially as he was utterly unworthy of you. But you're not to blamefor that. It's just human nature. And you'd never have fallen in lovewith me anyway." He paused a moment. "I don't see you're to blame anyfor that either," he said, and she knew by his voice that he had turnedaway from her. "Anyway, I'm not blaming you. And if--if punishingSaltash means punishing you too--well,--even though he's a skunk and ablackguard--I reckon--I'll let him go."

  He was moving to the door with the words. They came half-strangled asif 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 parlately, and I'm kind of worried about h
im."

  He opened the door. He was on the point of squarely passing throughwhen 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 oreven look at her. There was a hint of doggedness about him, almost asthough he waited against his will.

  She stood up. Something in his attitude made it difficult, painfullydifficult, to speak. She strove for self-control. "You--are goingto--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 mightygenerous of me, wouldn't it?" he said.

  She moved a step towards him. "I--might have done it. I--sonearly--did it," she said, in distress. "I don't deserve any kindnessfrom 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 thanbare justice," he said, "put it to my credit! Make allowance for me nexttime!"

  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 rewardedher 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--willtry--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 ofhim. "That's nothing. Be worthy of yourself!"

  And with that abruptly he let her go, turned and left her. She knew bythe finality of his going that she would see him no more that night.