The League of the Leopard

by Harold Bindloss

  CHAPTER XVI

  ILLUMINATION

  When the two men went out Miss Chatterton discovered that she hadundertaken a very difficult task. The seamstress lay still looking ather, evidently expectant, but saying nothing. She, it appeared, feltherself mistress of the position. Lilian felt that the silence wasgrowing painful, and determined to attack the subject boldly.

  "Mr. Dane has clearly been a good friend to your brother, but may I askwhether that evening at the Hallows Bridge was the only time you spoketo him?"

  A flush crept into the sick girl's cheeks, and a hardness into her eyes.

  "I was expecting ye would ask me. What would ye say if I did notanswer?"

  "Probably nothing," returned Lilian, quietly. "Mr. Dane is, as we know,somewhat impulsive, as well as generous. Why do you tell me that youexpected such a question?"

  Mary Johnstone painfully raised herself on one elbow.

  "Ye are a grand lady, but hard, I think, as some folk would call yebonny. I am a poor sewing woman with the need to strive hard, an'always, to keep hunger from the door--but in the hearts of us there isno that difference between you an' me. No--bide ye and listen."

  Lilian had risen, but she sat down again. Something in the girl's voiceand manner compelled her attention, for the seamstress spoke as equalto equal on the basis of their common humanity.

  "I owe ye little, Miss Chatterton. What ye paid, I earned, an' some ofit hardly, but when ye bade me come no more to The Larches, with noother word, there was many an ill tongue to cast dirt at me, forby lyingtales that ye found things of value missing."

  "I never suspected that would happen," said Lilian, a little uneasily.

  "How should ye?" continued the seamstress. "But ye could not blame theslanderers, being quick yourself to think evil. May be ye did not know,either, that my good name means work and bread to more than me? So, ifthere was no other person interested, I would ask--how dare ye, thinkingwhat ye think, come here and ask me that question?"

  Lilian was contrite, realizing the harm she had unwittingly done, andrecognizing the genuine ring of injured innocence in the speaker'svoice. She was also slightly angry, as well as astonished, but she wassufficiently just to see that it would not become her to manifestdispleasure.

  "I did wrong, but how do you know what I thought, or if I thoughtanything at all?" she asked. "You have also avoided the question insteadof answering me."

  "What did I tell ye at the beginning?" said the sick girl with a curioussmile. "Being poor, am I less a woman? Well, and not for your sake only,ye shall have the answer that should pleasure ye. That night at HallowsBrig was the one time only Mr. Dane had word with me. Are ye believingme?"

  Lilian failed to understand why she should feel so relieved by theinformation, but she certainly did. She also felt humbled; and as itwas not her way to do anything by half, she made reparation with aqueenly simplicity. Stooping over the sick girl, she kissed her on thecheek.

  "After that you cannot refuse to forgive me, and must come back and helpme as soon as you are fit," she said. "But I do not understand yet whatyou meant when you said it was not for my sake only."

  The sick girl at first only regarded her with a smile, but it sufficedto show Lilian that peace was made.

  "If ye cannot guess, I fear I cannot tell ye," she said. "I have eyesand the sense to see, but it would be presumption for me to tell ye allthey showed me. Still, ye and Mr. Maxwell were not the only persons Isaw that night at the Hallows Brig."

  Lilian asked no further questions, but when she left there was abrightness in her eyes which had not been there before.

  "Mary Johnstone has clearly bewitched you," the clergyman remarked."Your very step is lighter than it was an hour ago, and you are lookingbetter than you have done all winter. Would it be indiscreet to ask whatspell she cast upon you?"

  "I am afraid it would," Lilian answered, while a softness crept into herface. She laughed, and henceforward chatted so brightly that when sheleft him her companion looked after her longingly, and then sighed as heturned back to his bachelor quarters. They struck him as very cheerlessand lonely.

  A week had passed when Miss Chatterton, sitting alone, listlessly tookup a newspaper a maid brought in. The listlessness vanished, however,when a heading, "Further Fighting in the Dark Continent," caught hereye, and she eagerly hurried through an account of the reverses sufferedby a British punitive expedition in West Africa. Then, while her heartbeat fast, she sat very still, staring at the concluding paragraph:

  A French trader brought news to the coast of another unfortunate affair in the hinterland. It appears that two Englishmen, Dane and Maxwell, who left the coast months earlier, on a prospecting expedition, lost their carriers by sickness, and have since been hemmed in by hostile natives in a perilous position. Our correspondent states that the French authorities, who warned them against the expedition, consider their extrication impossible, and believe they must have perished already.

  Lilian let the paper fall from her nerveless hands, and lay motionless,shivering in her chair. The shock of a supposed discovery, and ajealousy she would not own, had played their part in forcing on herattention a question she had resolutely striven to ignore, while now,when it was perhaps too late forever, the answer was clear. She coulddeceive herself no longer; and she guessed why the man had risked hislife to win a little gold in Africa. Risked it--at the thought her eyesgrew hazy. It might well be that he had flung his life away! Yet, eventhen, it was with a passing thrill of pride that she remembered thestubbornness beneath his patience, and knew that it would go very hardwith his enemies before he went down.

  Hilton Dane had changed swiftly in her estimation from a man with aweakness to a hero, generous, loyal, swift to do her pleasure, and yetfitted to command. It seemed to her overstrained fancy that she couldalmost hear his voice ringing through the blast of the rifles in thelast struggle; and that it would be a very grim and terrible struggleshe knew. Then she shuddered once more, recollecting what she had readof the scenes within an African stockade when the rifles lay cold in theundergrowth, and the smoke of the flintlocks had melted away.

  The sense of constraint inside grew unbearable, and the girl went forthinto the night, and stood bareheaded, staring into the darkness, hoping,though almost afraid to hope, that the man she had sent away had notpassed forever beyond her power to recall him.

  Chatterton and his wife, returning presently, found her waiting in thehall; and the iron-master's action was characteristic when he hadglanced at the paper she handed him. Wrenching out his notebook he wroteon the first blank leaf the address of a firm dealing in palm oil inLiverpool, and then a message beneath it:

  "_See newspaper report of disaster to West Coast explorers, Dane andMaxwell. Wire your agents to find out how much is true, and all possibledetails. Spare no expense whatever._"

  He flung the paper to the groom outside.

  "Get that telegram sent off before the post-office closes, if you killthe horse!" he said.

  There was a rattle of wheels, and Chatterton laughed a grim laugh as heturned toward the women.

  "No great cause for anxiety as yet. I know Hilton Dane better thaneither of you, and I think I know Maxwell too. It would take severallegions of niggers to hem them in--and I should be sorry for many of theblack men."

  A few days later, Thomas Chatterton sat beside his hearth one evening inan unpleasant frame of mind. The weather might have caused a more eventempered person some discontent, because the windows rattled under theimpact of the sleet-laden blast, and the snugly curtained room was sweptby chilling draughts. But Chatterton was not considering the weather; heglanced at the clock before he turned toward the owner of Culmeny.

  "That lazy rascal is stopping somewhere to gossip on the way," he said.

  "The telegraph office is closed now, and he must be here shortly,"replied Maxwell. "I was sorry to hear that Miss Chatterton was nobetter. Have you any more favorable news to give m
e?"

  "No. She is rather worse than better, and we are distinctly uneasy abouther to-night," he said. "Dr. Gilmour was here an hour ago, lookingrather more owl-like than usual, but I could get no opinion out of him.In fact, the man puzzled me. He appeared dazed, and either would notlisten to my questions or was incapable of understanding plain English."

  "Dazed? You do not as a rule speak ambiguously. If Miss Chatterton isseriously ill I think it is my duty to tell you what you evidently donot know, though it is no secret. Gilmour is not free from a weaknessfor alcohol."

  Chatterton was a man of action; making no comment, he wrenched upon therope of the bell before he pulled out his watch.

  "Send Robertson here at once!" he ordered; and when his groom appeared,he asked:

  "Is it possible to ride a horse to Swiftsbridge across the Langside mossand through the ford in time to bring out the doctor by the lasttrain?"

  "No, sir," was the answer. "The moor track's under water, the ford justroaring full, and I'm thinking that to swim the Swift to-night isimpossible."

  "I think he is right," Maxwell said; "though I fancy I could have doneit twenty years ago."

  "Then you can drive!" Chatterton said harshly to the groom. "It's alittle over forty miles there and back by road. Get a fresh horse at thebridge; but if you value your place don't come back without the doctor!"

  Chatterton walked to the window and flung the curtains behind him; thenhe returned with brows contracted farther.

  "The moor is white all over, and the air thick with sleet," he said. "Itwill take that fellow all his time to bring the doctor here byto-morrow."

  A maid, appearing, laid a telegraphic envelope on the table, andChatterton tore it open.

  "At last! I always thought the man was incapable. Listen to this!

  "_Difficult to communicate by ocean cable except at heavy cost, butsurmise from message received that our coast agent credits publishedaccount. His cable just received reads, as deciphered by our code: Yes.Consider prospects discouraging. Do not look for improvement. Think wecould confirm._"

  Chatterton whipped out a pencil and, scribbling across the foot of themessage, handed it to Maxwell.

  "Can you send somebody down to the office with that?" he said. "It can'tgo until to-morrow. I want to keep my other man ready."

  "Yes," agreed Maxwell. "There are regulations, Chatterton, which willbar out your opening sentence, _Damn your private code._ The rest is, Ithink, plain enough. _Get news whatever it costs. Wire your agent inEnglish if he has sense enough to understand it. Believe I am quite ableto meet the bill._"

  "That man," explained Chatterton, "is, I blush to say, a relative of myown, and given to complaining that times are bad. It surprises me thathe does not find them ruinous, if this is a sample of his enterprise.I'm almost as much cut up as you are about this affair; and I'm sorryfor you, Maxwell."

  "Thanks," returned the master of Culmeny, quietly. "He was the only sonleft me, and I have a presentiment of what the end will be. It is,however, in the hands of the Almighty; but, if the worst comes, I knowthat neither of them will forget what is due to the land that bred him."

  Chatterton coughed huskily.

  "You are morbid, Culmeny. If they can only steer clear of treachery, bythe Lord, those two lads will cut their way out in spite of all thesavages in Africa. I know the one whose father was my partner, and Iknow your son. If my own brother told me he had seen them beaten, Iwould not believe him."

  Maxwell left, and in a few minutes Mrs. Chatterton came in to say thatLilian was growing delirious. As they spoke together the iron-masterheard a voice in the hall.

  "It is that confounded Rae," he observed. "It was he who encouraged Lilyto go poking into the houses of poor folks who didn't want her, allwinter. I consider him responsible for her illness, and feel quitecapable of telling him so."

  The clergyman was ushered in, and he had barely stated the purport ofhis visit when the elder man cut him short.

  "No. Miss Chatterton will neither sing at your concert, nor distributeany more coal tickets to encourage professional loafers!" he said. "Infact she is seriously ill. If you had not been enjoying yourself inEdinburgh you would have known it. You are sorry! Well, I really cannothelp saying that I think you ought to be. Miss Chatterton has not beenstrong all winter, and was warned against damp and exposure; but youmanaged to convince her it was her duty to wander up and down thevillage, pestering the sick folk, in spite of the rain and snow. Womenhave not the sense to discriminate between what is necessary andsentimental foolishness, you know."

  Rae, who was not readily browbeaten, interrupted the speaker, and thoughhe expressed no contrition, he showed such genuine anxiety concerningMiss Chatterton's health that her uncle was surprised, as well asmollified. It is possible that the clergyman showed his fears tooplainly.

  "Perhaps you could not help it, being possibly afflicted with the crazynotion that to destroy one's bodily health is good for the soul," hesaid. "It is one of the few things which always excites my indignation."

  Rae, who knew that the things which roused the speaker's ire werenumerous, smiled a little. "I certainly have never preached thatdoctrine."

  "You must forgive me if I appear abrupt," Chatterton apologized. "Thefact is that when I'm anxious my temper is not so good as it generallyis, and I am very anxious about my niece to-night. When Gilmour cameround, the infernal--yes, that's the adjective I meant--old scoundrelwasn't even sober. And you remember Dane? Well, he is hemmed in byhostile savages somewhere in Africa, and we can learn no news of him. Myniece and he were very good friends, and when she grows light-headed shebegs us to tell her what has happened to him. It is distressing because,of course, we cannot do so."

  Rae winced visibly at the last few sentences, and found a corroborationof them in the recollection of the change in Miss Chatterton afterhearing Johnstone's story. Still, he pulled out his watch.

  "There is a clever doctor at Swiftsbridge."

  "I believe so," said Chatterton, impatiently. "There are also a numberin London and a few in New York, I've heard. I sent over for theSwiftsbridge man some time ago; but considering the snow and bad roads,I don't expect him before to-morrow--and to-morrow may be too late."

  "It is scarcely twelve miles across the moor and moss," said Rae."There's a train this way in two hours' time. If you could lend me ahorse----"

  "My man, who ought to know, declares that nobody could get through theford to-night. I'm obliged to you, Rae, but what you suggest is out ofthe question. The one horse now in my stable has the fiend's own temper,and I cannot allow you, who cannot have had much experience in thesaddle, to run risks that were too heavy for a very capable horseman."

  "I used to ride a little, and haven't quite forgotten. If, as yousuggest, I am responsible for Miss Chatterton's illness, I must make theonly reparation possible. In fact, I intend to do so; and unless youwill mount me I will borrow a horse at Culmeny. I will not, howeverpromise to spare the beast."

  "You can drown him if you bring the doctor through by the last train!"said Chatterton, ringing the bell. "The horse will be ready inside tenminutes; and I'm greatly obliged to you."

  The time had not elapsed when Rae walked quietly toward the mettlesomebeast, which, resenting the change from its warm stable into thestinging sleet, laid its ears back, and when Chatterton approached itbared its teeth.

  "Stand clear of his head!" cautioned Rae, swinging himself to thesaddle; and the horse, rearing half upright, sent the gravel flying."No. Leave the gate shut! I'm going the nearest way."

  "I shall not forget this kindness," called Chatterton. "Feel I ought tostop you, but dare not do it. Take care of yourself--and God bless you!"

  "I hope He will prosper my journey," the younger man answered gravely.

  There was a further scattering of gravel, a pounding of hoofs across astrip of lawn, and a crash of brittle branches as horse and ridersmashed through a tall hedge into the sleet which whirled across themeadow beyond it.

&
nbsp; Chatterton, shaking the white flakes from him, returned to his wife.

  "I suppose you saw what has happened," he said. "There's another of themin the running now, and this one has mettle in him if he is a clergyman.He's going through Langside moss to-night, though I gave him theplainest hint I could that in respect to Lilian his chance is of thesmallest. Maxwell, it seems, took his dismissal gracefully; but whatRae has done to-night will count heavily on his side. Why must thatidiot Hilton go out and get himself cut off by niggers in Africa?"

  Thanks to Rae's daring ride, a skilful doctor arrived at the junction bythe last train, and remained at The Larches all the next day. He alsomade a number of other visits before he stated that his patient wasmaking rapid progress on the way to recovery.

  "You had, however, better take her south, say Egypt or the Canaries, toescape our genial spring," he said. "Not necessary, but distinctlyadvisable. Miss Chatterton might sail almost at any time."

  "We will choose Teneriffe, and start at once," Chatterton informed hiswife. "It is well on the mail route to West Africa, and I'm growinganxious about Hilton."