CHAPTER XXIX
Then she knew that he was going straight into the very jaws of death. Ifit had been a trap set for him it could not have been any surer. In asheep-shed far below, close to the reef of rocks above Fritz's grave, ascore of men were waiting, and he was rushing toward them, down themountain side, lighted by the white moonlight. And what was she doing,groveling there among the rocks? Like a flash she was after him, but ata speed much less than his had been.
Before she was halfway down three shots rang out. The girl clutched herheart and listened, but not a sound could be heard save the long echoesin the valley, which sounded like a dying breath.
On she sped from rock to rock, keeping ever out of sight of the shed,her senses keenly alive to the one object in view--a bit of white farbelow. It might have been a bunch of flowers along the hillside, butwhite flowers never grew there--a heap of bones, then, she thought. Shemade a zigzag line along the jagged ridge of rocks, closer and closer tothe white object below. She wondered if he lay on his face or his back.How calm she was in the shock and terror of her grief! The light of themoon was growing dim, she had reached the very tip of the rocks, thewhite object was not twenty feet away, but out in the open in perfectview of the sheep-shed and the score of men it hid. Another shot brokethe stillness. The white object moved, and then a moan followed, so lowthat none but the ears of the frenzied girl could have heard. Like anenraged lioness she sprang out into the open and dragged the heavy bodyup toward the shelter of rocks. Several bullets rang about her, but theincreasing darkness made her an uncertain target. A couple of menventured outside the sheep-shed, encouraged by the stillness. The girllaughed savagely, as if in glee, and pulled the man's body close to theside of rocks, covering it with her own.
"Come on," she cried to herself. "Come on, show yourselves! I shall haveyou all! For every pang you have made him suffer, you shall have twenty,and for his death you shall have a lingering one! Come on, come on!"Three stood outside. The addition pleased her. She laughed. Takingdeliberate aim she fired again and again. Three wounded, frightened mencrawled into the shelter of the shed. Then a score of bullets splashedagainst the rocks about her. She lifted the warm bleeding body closerunder the rocks, drawing her own over it to protect it from all harm andtalking frantically the while.
"The hounds, the hounds! They murdered you right in my sight, dear, andI will tear out their hearts with my hands! See, they are hidingthemselves again! I can wait, yes, I can wait! _My love, my love!_ Foreverything they have made you suffer! Oh, you can't be _dead_, dear! Youcan't be dead! Open your eyes and let me tell you just once I love you!Only once, dear!" She put her mouth close to his ear. "_I love you, loveyou, love you!_ Only hear me once and know, dear! Know how I love you!Why didn't I tell you? I don't care if you are married a thousand times,a _million_ times! I love you with all my life--my soul! See, he'strying to get away! But he'll never reach his horse! See! A hole rightthrough his knee! Death is too good for them, dear. My love, speak to mejust once--only know that I love you, that I am mad with love for you!Tell me that you feel my face against yours--and my kisses! See, they'recrawling out like flies! and making for their horses--and now they'recrawling back again so that I cannot get them. Oh, God, let me get them_all_! My love, my love, how I love you, and _never told you so_!"
With the first hint of dawn another volley came from the opposite side,and out of the gloom a rush of cavalry closed in about the sheep-shed,and ten men, most of them suffering from slight wounds, were takencaptive. The man lying against the reef of rocks partially opened hiseyes as Hope, with one last kiss upon his face, rose to meet a smallgroup of riders.
"I say, Hope, it's a blasted shame we didn't get here in time to savehim!" exclaimed O'Hara, with grief in his voice. "I'll just send thedoctor over here at once."
While the surgeon bent over Livingston the girl stood close by, againstthe rocks, quiet as the stone itself.
"A bad shoulder wound," he commented at length. "A little of your flask,O'Hara, and he'll be all right. Why, he's quite conscious! How do youfeel? You're all right, my boy! A shattered shoulder isn't going tobother you any, is it? Not much!"
The girl moved closer.
"Is he alive and conscious? Will he live?" she asked.
"He's all right, madam," replied the surgeon. As he spoke Livingstonturned his face toward her, his eyes alight with all the love-light ofhis heart--answering every prayer she had breathed upon him. Her ownanswered his. Then she drew back, farther and farther away, until shestood outside the group of riders. O'Hara tried to detain her as shepassed him.
"Why, you're wounded yourself, girl!" he exclaimed.
She looked at her sleeve, and the wet stream of blood upon her dress,and laughed. It was true, but she had not felt the wound.
"Not at all, Larry," she replied. "The blood came from _him_," and shepointed back to the rocks. She started on, but turned back. "Tell me,"she said, "what became of little Ned."
"I sent him home," replied Larry. "The poor little chap was about allin. We met his uncle, Long Bill, riding like blazes for the doctor. Itseems that those young divils of twins shot old Harris some time duringthe night, which stopped that faction from joining these fellows here asthey had planned. A pretty lucky shot, I'm thinking! They ought to havea gold medal for it, bless their souls, but they'll both dangle from theend of a rope before they're forty, the devils, or I'll miss my guess!"
Larry looked around to speak to an officer, and before he could realizeit Hope had disappeared, climbing back toward the summit of the hillwhere she had left her horse.
In the gulch on the opposite side she fell exhausted into the very armsof old Jim McCullen, who had returned in time to hear the shooting, andwas hastening toward the scene.
"My poor little Hopie!" he cried, carrying her to the stream, where thealarmed party from the camp found them a few minutes later.
"You will drown her, Mr. McCullen!" exclaimed Clarice Van Rensselaer,rushing up quite white and breathless. "The poor darling, I just _knew_she'd get into trouble with all those dreadful Indians! Someone give mesome whisky, _quick_! That's right, Sydney, _make_ her swallow it! Here,give it to me! _There!_"
Louisa, stricken with grief, pointed to the damp, stiffened sleeve ofthe girl's shirt-waist. "See," she sobbed, "they have shot her, too,like my Fritz!"
Of them all, Mrs. Van Rensselaer was the most contained, and showedremarkable coolness and nerve in the way she ripped off the sleeve andbathed the wound, which was hardly more than a deep scratch, yet hadcaused considerable loss of blood.
"It's exhaustion, pure and simple," said Jim McCullen. Then he andSydney drew away a short distance, and examined the horse.
Hope finally looked up into the anxious faces above her.
"I think, Clarice," she said, "I'll go back to New York with you."
CHAPTER XXX
Hope, a vision in white, leaned back resignedly in the soft embrace ofthe carriage cushions.
"I thought," she said, "you never visited the Grandons, Clarice,particularly since Harriet made her alliance with the titleless duke."Mrs. Van Rensselaer smiled behind the laces of her muff. "I didn'tsuppose you were going there this afternoon," continued the girl, with asweeping look along the solidly built street. "How does it happen?"
"Well, you see," replied Clarice, "_Larry_ wished it; and you know hiswish is law to me--_until_ we're married. That's only right and as itshould be--the _dear boy_!" Then impulsively: "I don't know how I'veever lived without him, Hope! Positively, he is the _dearest_ thing thatever lived!"
"And you'll both be tremendously happy, I know. Both of you young andgay, and in love with life and its frivolities--both the center of yourset, and both rattle-brained enough to want to keep that center andthrow away your lives in the whirling, rapid stream of society."
"You shouldn't ridicule this life, Hope. Don't you know we are the verypulse of the world! I had an idea you were taking to it pretty well. Youare certainly making a tremendous hit. Even mamma smi
les upon you in themost affectionate manner, and is proud for once of her offspring. Youare simply gorgeous, Hope--a perfect _queen_!"
The girl's eyes darkened, her face flushed. "A _queen_," she retorted."A queen! Clarice, did you ever sit upon a throne and feel the worldslipping out from under you? A woman is never a queen, except to the_one_ man. But you are mistaken, Clarice. I simply cannot adapt myselfto this life. If it wasn't for the continual monotony of it all--thenever changing display of good points and fine clothes--where even one'sown prayers are gilded and framed in consciousness and vanity--andthese streets--the reflection of it all--these blocks and blocks alwaysthe same, like the people they cover--presenting always the samemoney-stamped faces--oh, it is this sameness that stifles me! It is allgrand and wonderful, but it isn't _life_." She paused, then smiled atClarice's perplexed face. "Leave me at mamma's when you return, for I'vegot stacks of things to do, and I want the evening all to myself--Louisaand I, you know. And we'll say, Clarice, that I perfectly love dear oldNew York."
"Oh, I don't mind, dear, not at all! I know you are no more fitted inyour heart for this life than I am for the life out there with those_dreadful_ Indians. But you've certainly been acting superb these lasttwo months!"
"You are such a _dear_, Clarice," said Hope impulsively, stroking hergloved hand. "I have you and Louisa, and, of course, I am perfectlyhappy! I tell myself so a thousand times a day. My poor little Louisa!_She's_ about the happiest girl I ever saw in all my life, but shedoesn't know it. Here she is worrying her head off because Sydney ispressing his suit too strongly and won't take 'no' for an answer, andshe thinks she ought to be faithful to poor Fritz, her cousin, who isreally only a sweet, sad memory to her now, while all the time she iscrazy in love with Syd. Isn't it a fright? But Sydney is way out inMontana, and his letters serve only as little pricks to her poorconscience. Her replies are left mostly to me, so that is what I must doto-night."
"But your mother entertains this evening. Had you forgotten?" remindedMrs. Van Rensselaer. "So how are you going to get away?"
"I suppose I will have to come down for awhile, but I simply will notremain long."
"Well, I will see you then. Larry and I are going to drop in for alittle while in the early evening."
When they drove away from the Grandons' a half hour later Claricesearched the girl's quiet face for some expression of her thoughts, butfound none.
"So you have seen the Lady Livingston at last, Hope! What do you thinkof her?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders and looked into the street. "Yourdescription tallied very well," she replied.
That evening Hope met the blond Lady Helene at her mother's musicale.This time it was Clarice, again, who brought the meeting about.
Mrs. Van Rensselaer was in her gayest, most voluble mood.
"I'm _so_ anxious to have you two get acquainted," she said. "Dear LadyHelene, this is _Hope_--Miss Hathaway, and she can tell you everythingyou want to know about the West. Do, Hope, entertain her for a fewmoments until I find Larry." This the girl did in her gracious way, butadroitly kept the conversation away from the West.
After a few moments Clarice returned without Larry. A shadow ofdisappointment crossed her face as she joined the conversation.
"I thought you were going to talk about the West, Hope," she laughed,"and here you are talking _New York_--nothing but New York!"
"New York is always an entertaining topic," said Lady Helene. "I do notseem to fancy the West particularly. You know Lord Livingston hasrecently been hurt out there, and so I do not enjoy a very kindlyfeeling toward that country. The poor boy! I have been so worried abouthim! Really, don't you know, I haven't had a good night's sleep since Iheard of his injury! Yes, you know, it's a wonder he wasn't _scalped_!It's just fearful, really! He is so much to me, you know. Ever since mypoor husband died and the title and estates fell to Edward, I have felta _great_ responsibility for him. He is so much younger than my husband,Lord Henry, and so, well, really, sort of wild, don't you know." HereLady Helene smiled and wiped one eye with a filmy bit of lace. Perhapsshe was saddened by thoughts of the havoc she had wrought in the life ofthe late lord, and his fortunes.
Hope sat motionless, suddenly paralyzed. "Do you mean," she asked, inshort gasps, "that Edward--Lord Livingston is not your _husband_?"
"Mercy, no," replied Lady Helene, "my husband's brother! Indeed, Edwardis not married! I doubt very much if he ever will be. I hope if he does,that it will be to someone at home, in his own class, don't you know!Really, he is a great responsibility to me, Mrs. Van Rensselaer! Why,where did Miss Hathaway go? She seems to be such a bright, dashing youngwoman. Really, one meets few American girls so royally beautiful! Yes,as I was saying, Edward is a terrible responsibility to me. Even now Iam obliged to hurry away because he has just arrived here in town, and Imust meet him at his hotel. That is the worst of not having a house ofyour own! To think of poor, dear Edward stopping at a _hotel_!"
"Which one?" gasped Clarice. Receiving the information, she abruptlyexcused herself from Lady Helene, who immediately decided that someAmericans had very poor manners.
While Clarice drove rapidly toward Livingston's hotel, Hope, in eagerhaste, was literally throwing things in a trunk that had been pulledinto the center of the room. Little Louisa, no less excited and eager,assisted.
"To think, my Louisa," laughed the girl, "that we are going back to ourWest--_home_--again, away from all this fuss and foolishness! Oh, don'tbe so particular, dear. Throw them in any way, just so they get in! Ourtrain leaves at twelve, and I have telephoned for tickets, state-roomand everything. Isn't it _grand_? Mamma will be furious! But dear oldDad, won't he be glad! He's so lonesome for me, Louisa. He says he canhardly exist there without me! And Jim, and Sydney, and--everyone! Oh, Iam wild for my horses and the prairie again! And you've got to be niceto Syd! Yes, dear, it's your _duty_. Can't you see it? If you don't, thepoor boy will go to the bad _altogether_, and something _dreadful_ willhappen to him! And it will be all your fault!" Which statement sentLouisa into a paroxysm of tears, not altogether sorrowful.
"You will spoil dose _beautiful_ clothes!" she finally exclaimed,looking in dismay through her tears at the reckless packer.
"It makes no difference," laughed Hope. "What are _clothes_! We willhave the rest sent on after us. I suppose we've forgotten half what wereally need, but that doesn't matter, either, does it, my Louisa?"
Louisa dried her tears and assisted until the trunk was packed andstrapped. Then they took hold of hands and danced like children aroundit. Suddenly Hope stopped, her face growing white and fearful.
"_If he shouldn't forgive me!_" she exclaimed softly.
"Ah, but he lofs you!" said Louisa.
At that moment Mrs. Van Rensselaer opened the door and looked in.
"My dear," she began, then stopped in amazement. "What in theworld----Why, you are going away!"
"Yes," replied Hope, putting her head down upon Clarice's soft eveningwrap. "I am going back to----"
"But he has come to you, dear, and he is waiting right here in thehall!"
"No, no!" breathed the girl.
"But he _is_!" exclaimed Clarice, gently pushing the girl, still in allher white evening glory of gown, into the great hall. "And he carrieshis arm in a sling, so _do_ be careful!" she admonished, closing thedoor upon her.
From below came the indistinct murmur of many voices. Under the redglare of the lamp at the head of the broad staircase Livingston and Hopemet in a happiness too great for words.
"Louisa," said Clarice Van Rensselaer, from her seat upon the trunk, "Ihope you see it your duty to make a man of Sydney."
"_A man_," replied Louisa indignantly, "he is already de greatest man inall de whole world, and _I lof him_!"
FINIS.
* * * * *
TRANSCRIBER NOTES:
Punctuation corrected without note.
page 48: "through" changed to "though" (as though talking to herself).
page 95: "bloodthristy" changed to "bloodthirsty" (more bloodthirstythan she suspected).
page 123: "protuded" changed to "protruded" (teeth protruded from herthin lips).
page 303: "upon" removed from text as redundant (patting him upon thehead).
page 369: "close" changed to "closed" (just before the flap of the whitetent closed upon her).
Hope Hathaway: A Story of Western Ranch Life Page 29
