Frank Merriwell's Son; Or, A Chip Off the Old Block
Page 10
CHAPTER X.
A MOONLIGHT MEETING.
In truth, the game had livened Carson up and taken his thoughts fromunpleasant things.
The remainder of the afternoon was fully occupied, for Merry showedBerlin through the buildings and explained the methods of the school.
At dinner Carson seemed much brighter and joined in the talk andlaughter. After dinner he accompanied Frank and Inza to see the baby.Little Frank was sound asleep, and one of the maids was watching overhim.
"Where's Lizette, Maggie?" asked Inza.
"Th' poor crather do have a headache," answered Maggie. "She axed mewould Oi look afther th' choild whoile she rested a bit."
"A headache? That's strange. Lizette has told me she never had an acheor a pain in all her life."
"Did yez notice, ma'am, if she touched wood whin she said it?" askedMaggie.
"I didn't notice."
"Thot's it, thot's it," declared the maid, with conviction. "Oi'm notsuperstitious, but Oi nivver brag about mesilf thot Oi don't touch wood.Mark me worruds, whin a person boasts and fergits to touch wood,something happens to thot person. I nivver knew it to fail."
"A fine baby, Frank," said Berlin, as he stood looking at the child."You ought to be proud of him."
"No peacock was ever prouder," laughed Merry. "We hope to make a star ofhim, eh, Inza?"
"Oh, the star--the birthmark!" exclaimed Inza. "Can't you show it to Mr.Carson without waking the baby, Maggie?"
"Oi kin try, ma'am."
The maid gently slipped the clothes from the baby's left shoulder andrevealed the tiny, perfectly formed pink star.
"Wonderful! wonderful!" declared Berlin. "Why, one would think itstamped there. I never saw anything so perfect in all my life. Frank,Inza, that child is marked for something great."
"Let us hope you're right," said Merry.
That night, after retiring to his room, Carson sat a long time at theopen window, gazing out through the whispering trees toward the fallmoon that was rising in the east. The old feeling of sadness anddisappointment stole over him and gave him a sensation of uncontrollableloneliness in the world.
"I suppose I was mistaken about Lizette," he finally muttered. "I shallbe able to tell when I see her again. I hoped to see her when they tookme to look at the baby. Rather strange she wasn't there. Still, Ipresume it's true that she had a headache."
Finally he undressed, donned his pajamas, and got into bed.
Sleep did not come readily at his command. His brain was busy with manythoughts. He recalled the old days at college, when he first met FrankMerriwell. In those happy days ere meeting Bessie he was heart-free andcare-free. It seemed so long ago--so long ago. It was something like adream. Dimly he recalled the classroom, the campus, and the field. Hesaw his youthful comrades gathering about him at the old fence in thedusk of a soft spring evening. He heard their light talk and carelesslaughter. He heard them singing beneath the windows of the dormitories.He heard them cheering on the field as Old Eli battled for baseballhonors or struggled to win new gridiron glory.
Ah, those were happy days, Carson, my boy! They were the happiest youhave ever known. You did not appreciate those glorious days as they werepassing, but you appreciate them now, and the memory is a precious one.Can such happy days as those ever again be yours?
Then he recalled old times on the ranch. He thrilled as he rememberedhis first meeting with dark-eyed Bessie. How she had bewitched him! Howshe had puzzled and fascinated him! At the very first he had felt herfascination dangerous, yet it was so delightful that he did not mind thedanger.
Thinking of Bessie, he finally fell asleep and dreamed of her. On thebed he tossed restlessly, murmuring her name. He seemed to see her nearat hand, yet gliding away before him as he vainly sought to overtakeher. She turned her bewitching face and smiled at him alluringly.Desperately he strove to reach her, but always she kept just beyond hisgrasp. Yet she beckoned him on with her smile and with her hypnoticeyes. Finally, in mad desperation, he made one last great leap andseized her. He had her now! She was his! She could not get away! In thatmoment of triumph a marvelous metamorphosis took place, and as his armbound her to his side he beheld her transformed into a boy. She was nolonger Bessie, but young Tom King, reckless, taunting, derisive, andmocking.
In that mysterious way of dreams, he now beheld himself gazing down upona dying man, who lay stretched upon the ground, a bullet having passedthrough his body. He knew the man. It was Colonel King, the cattlerustler, who had carried on his criminal work disguised as Laramie Dave.There were other men standing about--armed men. The sheriff was therewith his posse. At last, through the revelation and informationfurnished by Frank Merriwell, this cattle stealer had been captured andshot. And now he was gasping his life away, and soon his stain-spottedsoul would stand naked before the judgment bar above.
Through his dream--if dream it was--a voice sounded, cutting him to theheart. That voice cried, "You have killed him, you devils!" Then youngTom King threw himself on his father's prostrate body, weeping bitterly.Carson attempted to lift the boy, but once more before his eyes a changetook place, and Tom King became Lizette, the French nurse.
He awoke, shaking in every limb, with cold perspiration on his face.
"Did I dream," he hoarsely muttered, "or did I live the past overagain?"
There was no more sleep for him. He rose and went to the window. Thecool night beckoned to him. The soft moon smiled at him. The whisperingleaves said, "Come out, come out."
Carson dressed, softly descended the stairs, and left the house.
He filled his lungs and stretched his arms. The moon had mounted intothe eastern sky, and there were deep shadows beneath the trees. Therestless young man walked amid those shadows.
Suddenly he paused, startled by the sound of voices. Near at hand twopersons were talking. One voice, hoarse, harsh, suppressed, was that ofa man. The other was a woman's voice.
"What does it mean?" thought Carson. "Who is here at this hour? I mustknow--I'll investigate."
Cautiously he stole forward, keeping deep within the shadows. He had notproceeded far before these words, spoken by the woman, came distinctlyto his ears:
"I cannot--I will not do it!"
An instant later a shadowy figure came rustling toward him. It was thewoman, and she was right upon him ere she discovered the silent man whostood there beneath the trees. With a little gasp, she turned and fledon. A patch of moonlight, shimmering through the branches, had shown himher face.
The face of Lizette!