Frank Merriwell's Son; Or, A Chip Off the Old Block
Page 13
CHAPTER XIII.
THE PLEDGE OF FAITH.
Still it seemed impossible for her to believe. She put out her handtoward the near-by wall of the house, as if seeking support. When heoffered to give her that support, she continued to hold him at bay.
"You're a noble boy, Berlin," she whispered. "You will make a noblehusband for some girl."
"For you."
"No, not for me."
"Then you do not love me! You never loved me!" he panted. "You weretoying with me! You were deceiving me! It was a part of your amusement!You knew you had fascinated me and bewitched me, and it gave youpleasure to toy with me! Ah, this hurts more than everything else!"
"I did care for you," she asserted faintly.
"You did care--in a way, perhaps."
"You never told me that you loved me."
"Because you would not give me a chance. I never told you in words, butmy eyes told you so a hundred times."
"I've seen others who talked with their eyes and kept silent with theirlips."
"And you thought me like them?"
"Well--no. You were different; I acknowledge that."
"But you thought me fit only to flirt with. That was it. You tookdelight in arousing the fire in my heart that you might see it glowingfrom my eyes. You're like them all. They love to play with fire. Theylove to lead a man on and then throw him down. But I didn't think youjust like every other girl. I thought you different."
"You have learned that I was different, but in a way you did notsuspect."
"Then you confess you were toying with me, deceiving me?" he bitterlyexclaimed.
A little while before she had sought to turn him against her by tellingall the truth. When that effort failed and he suddenly accused her inthis manner, she had fancied she saw the way to accomplish her purposewith a falsehood. But now that she was face to face with it she falteredand could not lie.
"I tell you I did care for you--I cared for you more than words mayexpress. My fear in those days--and it was the only fear I had everknown--was that you would learn the truth about me and despise me. Doyou remember the day that you brought Frank Merriwell to the FlyingDollars? Do you remember that you were left alone in the little libraryand in a book you found some verse I had written? I used to write poetryin those days. Those verses were entitled 'My Secret.' I was angry whenI found you had read them, and I tore them up. I can quote the firststanza."
In a low musical voice she repeated the following lines:
"When he comes riding up the valley I watch from my window nook; My cheeks burn hot, my heart is throbbing For a single word or look To tell me that he loves me truly, But fear his lips will not be Unsealed to whisper low the story That means so much to me.
"It's poor poetry, Berlin--poor poetry; but it expressed the longing ofmy heart. And your lips remained sealed!"
Now he would have seized her and crushed her to his heart, but withastonishing strength she clutched his wrists and held him back.
"My lips are unsealed now!" he panted.
"It's too late!" she cried, in a weak, heartbroken tone; "too late!"
"Why is it too late? How can that be?"
"One thing you have forgotten. You found me here playing a part. Do youthink I'm pretending to be a French nurse merely as a whim--merely as anamusement?"
"I can't understand that," he confessed. "Why is it?"
She forced a laugh that was wholly without merriment.
"Perhaps this is only one of many parts I have played. You called me anactress. I am--an actress on the stage of life. I intended that no oneshould ever again recognize me as the daughter of Colonel King. I foundit necessary to work--to make my living somehow. Had I appeared here asBessie King, do you think Frank Merriwell would have trusted me? Do youthink I would be an inmate of his home? Oh, no, Berlin. I had todisguise myself to deceive him, and it was necessary to play my partwell. Even when I did my best I realized he knew he had seen me beforesome time, somewhere. Once he questioned me. Once he asked me if I had abrother. He was very, very near discovering the truth then. Do you thinkI can have any feeling of friendliness for this man Merriwell? Do youthink I can forget that it was through him my father met his fate? Onlyfor Frank Merriwell the real truth might have remained a secret. In timethe cattle stealing would have ceased. My father would have sold theFlying Dollars, and we would have gone elsewhere. But Merriwell came,and his discovery brought the sheriff and his posse. Sometimes when Ihave thought of this I've longed to kill Frank Merriwell. More than onceI have said to myself, 'His life is yours, for you saved it once.'"
"You should put aside such thoughts and feelings, Bessie. You cannotblame Frank. He was my friend. I brought him to the Big Sandy. Ourcattle were being stolen. As my friend, he did his best to aid me."
"Oh, I suppose it's wrong, but a person brought up as I have been findsit hard to distinguish right from wrong. Many of the things peoplerecognize as right seem wholly wrong to me. Would you have a wife withsuch a distorted conscience, Berlin Carson?"
"Let me be your guide," he pleaded. "Let me teach you the right."
"I tell you it is too late!"
Words seemed useless, and he stood there gazing at her helplessly,almost hopelessly. A sudden thought struck him like a blow, and healmost reeled.
"There is another!" he hoarsely whispered. "Ah, ha, that's it! I'vestruck the truth at last! It's that man--the man you met to-night! Speakup, Bessie! Tell me who he is! By Heaven, you shall tell me!"
"I will--in time," she promised. "Wait, Berlin--please wait!"
"I've waited too long already. Have I waited simply to find another manin my place?"
"Wait a little longer," she urged. "I have promised to tell you all, andI will. Can't you trust me a little longer, Berlin? Please--please trustme a little longer!"
She held out her hands in pleading, and a moment later, ere she couldcheck him, he had seized her and was holding her to his heart.
"Yes, yes," he panted, "I will trust you, Bessie--I'll trust you with myvery life!"
Their lips met, and then----
The heavens fell!