Nedra

by George Barr McCutcheon

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE CONFESSION OF VEATH

  "Hugh, have you observed anything strange in Mr. Veath lately?"

  The interrogation came suddenly from Grace, the next morning, on deck.They had been discussing the plans for a certain day in May, and all thetime there was evidence of trouble in her eyes. At last she had broacheda subject that had been on her mind for days.

  "Can't say that I have." The answer was somewhat brusque.

  "I am convinced of one thing," she said hurriedly, coming direct to thepoint. "He is in love with me."

  "The scoundrel!" gasped Hugh, stopping short and turning very white."How dare he do such--"

  "Now, don't be absurd, dear. I can't see what he finds in me to love,but he has a perfect right to the emotion, you know. He doesn'tknow, dear."

  "Where is he? I'll, take the emotion out of him in short order. Ah, ha!Don't look frightened! I understand. You love him. I see it all.It's as--"

  "Stop! You have no right to say that," she exclaimed, her eyes flashingdangerously. His heart smote him at once and he sued humbly for pardon.He listened to her views concerning the hapless Indianian, and it wasnot long before he was heart and head in sympathy with Veath.

  "Poor fellow! When I told him last night that I was to be married withina year he actually trembled from head to foot. I never was so miserableover a thing in my life," she said dismally. "Really, Hugh, I can't bearto think of him finding out how we have played with him."

  "Shall I tell him all about it?" asked he in troubled tones.

  "Then I should not be able to look him in the face. Dear me, elopementshave their drawbacks, haven't they?"

  Other passengers joined them, Veath and Lady Huntingford among them. Inthe group were Captain Shadburn, Mr. and Mrs. Evarts, Mr. Higsworth andhis daughter Rosella, Lieutenant Hamilton--a dashing young fellow whowas an old and particularly good friend of Lady Huntingford. Hugh noted,with strange satisfaction, that Hamilton seemed unusually devoted toMiss Higsworth. In a most casual manner he took his stand at the railbeside her Ladyship, who had coaxed Captain Shadburn to tell them hisstory of the great typhoon.

  Presently, a chance came to address her.

  "Grace tells me that your name is an odd one, for a girl--woman, Imean--Tennyson. Were you named for the poet?"

  "Yes. My father knew him well. Odd, isn't it? My friends call me LadyTennys. By the way, you have not told Grace what I told you last nighton deck, have you?" she asked.

  "I should say not. Does she suspect that you know her secret and mine?"he asked in return.

  "She does not dream that I know. Ah, I believe I am beginning to learnwhat love is. I worship your sweetheart, Hugh Ridgeway."

  "If you could love as she loves me, Lady Huntingford, you might knowwhat love really is."

  "What a strange thing it must be that you and she can know it and Icannot," she mused, looking wistfully at the land afar off.

  At Aden everybody went ashore while the ship coaled at Steamer Point, onthe western side of the rock, three miles from the town proper.Multitudes of Jewish ostrich-feather merchants and Somali boys gave thetravellers amusement at the landing and in the coast part of the town.The Americans began to breathe what Hugh called a genuinely orientalatmosphere.

  They were far from Aden when night came down and with it the mostgorgeous sunset imaginable. Everybody was on deck. The sky was aflame,the waters blazed and all the world seemed about to be swept up in thewondrous conflagration. Late in the afternoon a bank of clouds had grownup from the western line, and as the sun dropped behind them they glowedwith the intensity of fiercely fanned coals of huge dimensions. At lastthe fiery hues faded away, the giant holocaust of the skies drew to anend, and the soft afterglow spread across the dome, covering it with atranquil beauty more sublime than words can paint.

  Grace looked eagerly among the impressed spectators for Henry Veath.Somehow she longed for him to see all this beauty that had given her somuch pleasure. He was not there and she was conscious of a guiltydepression. She was sitting with Hugh and Lady Huntingford when, longafterward, Veath approached.

  "I'd like a word with you, Hugh," he said after the greetings, "when theladies have gone below."

  "It is getting late and I am really very tired," said Grace. It wasquite dark, or they could have seen that her face was pale and full ofconcern. She knew instinctively what it was that Veath wanted to say toHugh. Then she did something she had never done before in the presenceof another. She walked quickly to Hugh's side, bent over and kissed hislips, almost as he gasped in astonishment.

  "Good-night, dear," she said, quite audibly, and was gone with LadyHuntingford. The astounded lover was some time in recovering from thesurprise inspired by her unexpected act. It was the first time she hadever been sisterly in that fashion before the eyes of others.

  "I hope I have said nothing to offend them," said Veath miserably. "WasI too abrupt?"

  "Not in the least. They've seen enough for one night anyhow, and I guessthey were only waiting for an excuse to go below," replied Hugh. Tohimself he said, "I wonder what the dickens Grace did that for? And whywas Lady Huntingford so willing to leave?"

  Veath sat nervously wriggling his thumbs, plainly ill at ease. His jawwas set, however, and there was a look in his eyes which signified adetermination to brave it out.

  "You know me pretty well by this time, Hugh," he said. Hugh awoke fromhis abstraction and displayed immediate interest. "You know that I amstraightforward and honest, if nothing else. There is also in my make-upa pride which you may never have observed or suspected, and it is ofthis that I want to speak before attempting to say something which willdepend altogether upon the way you receive the introduction."

  "Go ahead, Henry. You're serious to-night, and I can see that somethingheavy is upon your mind."

  "It is a very serious matter, I can assure you. Well, as you perhapsknow from my remarks or allusions on previous occasions, I am a poordevil. I have nothing on earth but the salary I can earn, and you canguess what that will amount to in Manila. My father educated me as besthe could, and I worked my way through college after he had given me tounderstand that he was unable to send me there himself. When I wasgraduated, I accepted a position with a big firm in its engineeringservice. Within a year I was notified that I could have a five months'lay-off, as they call it. At the end of that period, if mattersimproved, I was to have my place back. Out of my wages I saved a coupleof hundred dollars, but it dwindled as I drifted through weeks ofidleness. There was nothing for me to do, try as I would to find aplace. It was a hard pill to swallow, after four years of the kind ofwork I had done in college, but I had to throw every plan to the windsand go to the Philippines. My uncle, who is rich, sent me money enoughto prepare for the voyage, and here I am, sneaking off to the jungles,disgusted, discouraged and disappointed. To-night I sit before you withless than one hundred dollars as the sum total of my earthlypossessions."

  "By George, Veath, just let me know how much you need--" broke in Hughwarmly, but the other silenced him, smiling sadly.

  "I'm greatly obliged to you, but I don't believe it is money that I wantnow--at least, not borrowed money. When you told me that your sister wasto become a missionary, I inferred that you were not burdened withworldly goods, and I felt at home with you both--more so than I should,I believe--"

  "Oh, the devil!"

  "But a few days ago your sister told me that she is not to be amissionary and that she is rich enough to make this trip to the Orientfor mere pleasure--oh, well, you know better than I how rich you bothare." His voice was low and unsteady. "I don't know why you should havetold me that she--she was to be a missionary."

  "It was--I did it for a little joke on her, honestly I did," mumbledHugh.

  "And it was a serious one for me. Before I knew of her real position sheseemed more approachable to me, more as if I could claim her friendshipon the grounds of mutual sympathy. I was deceived into believing ourlots not vastly unequal, and I have suffered
more than I can tell you bythe disparity which I now know exists."

  "But what difference can it make whether we are rich or poor? We canstill be friends," said Hugh eagerly.

  "It was when I believed your sister to be a missionary that I learned tolove her better than all else in this world. Now do you understand?"

  "Great Scott!" gasped his listener, starting from his chair. Now herealised that she had not been mistaken in her fears. "Does she knowthis?" he managed to ask.

  "No, and I dare not tell her--I cannot. I had to tell some one, and towhom should I confess it if not to the brother of the woman I love? Itis no disgrace, no dishonor to her. You cannot blame me for being honestwith you. Some day after you have gone back to America you can tell herthat I love her and always will. She has intimated to me that she is tomarry another man, so what chance is there for a poor wretch like me? Idon't see how I have endured the awakening from the dreams I have had.I even went so far as to imagine a little home in Manila, after I hadwon her from the mission field and after I had laid by the savings of ayear or two. I had planned to fairly starve myself that I might saveenough to make a home for her and--and--" but he could say no more. Hughheard the sob and turned sick at heart. To what a pass theirelopement had come!

  Above all things, how could he comfort the unfortunate man? There was noword of encouragement, no word of hope to be given. The deepest pity hehad ever felt went out to Henry Veath; the greatest remorse he had everknown stung his soul. Should he tell Veath the truth? Could he do it?

  "Do you see my position?" asked Veath steadily, after a long silence. "Icould never hope to provide for her as she has been accustomed toliving, and I have too much pride to allow my wife to live other thanthe way in which I would have to live."

  "She may not love you," said Hugh, suddenly hopeful.

  "But I could win her love. I'm sure I could, Hugh. Even though she ispledged to another man, I could love her so powerfully that a new lovewould be inspired in her for me. You don't know how I love her. Hugh,you are not angry with me for having told you this?"

  "Angry? Great Heavens, no! I'm heartbroken over it," cried Hugh. Therewere traces of tears in his eyes.

  "You know how hopeless it is for me," went on Veath, "and I hope youwill remember that I have been honest and plain with you. Before we partin Manila I may tell her, but that is all. I believe I should like tohave her know that I love her. She can't think badly of me for it,I'm sure."

  Hugh did not answer. He arose and silently grasped the hand of theother, who also had conic to his feet.

  "I would to God that I could call you brother," said he.

  "Don't say it! It is too wild an improbability," cried Veath.

  "Yes; it is more than that: it is an impossibility."

  "If in the end I should conclude to tell Miss Ridge of my feelings, willyou tell me now that I may do so with your permission?"

  "But there is no hope," cried Hugh miserably.

  "I do not ask for hope. I shall not ask her to love me or to be my wife.I may want to tell her that I love her, that's all. You can have noobjection to that, Hugh."

  "I have no objection," murmured Ridgeway, a chill striking deep into hisheart.