“‘You exaggerate,’ I replied, shrinking back with a longing look at the comfortable bed I had just left. ‘These old houses are always strong. It will take many such a gust as that you hear, to overturn it, I assure you.’
“‘I exaggerate!’ she returned with a look of scorn impossible to describe. ‘Hark!’ she said, ‘hear that.’
“I did hear, and I must acknowledge that it seemed is if we were about to be swept from our foundations.
“‘Yes,’ said I, ‘but it is a fearful night to be out in.’
“‘I shall go with you,’ said she.
“‘In that case—’ I began with an ill-advised attempt at gallantry which she cut short with a gesture.
“‘Here is your hat,’ remarked she, ‘and here is your bag. The fishing-pole must remain, you cannot carry it.’
“‘But—’ I expostulated.
“‘Hush!’ said she with her ear turned towards the depths of the staircase at the top of which we stood. ‘My father and brother will think as you do that it is folly to leave the shelter of a roof for the uncertainties of the road on such a night as this, but you must not heed them. I tell you shelter this night is danger, and that the only safety to be found is on the stormy highway.’
“And without waiting for my reply, she passed rapidly down stairs, pushed open a door at the bottom, and stepped at once into the room we had left an hour or so before.
“What was there in that room that for the first time struck an ominous chill as of distinct peril through my veins? Nothing at first sight, everything at the second. The fire which had not been allowed to die out, still burned brightly on the ruddy hearthstone, but it was not that which awakened my apprehension. Nor was it the loud ticking clock on the mantel-piece with its hand pointing silently to the hour of eleven. Nor yet the heavy quiet of the scantily-furnished room with its one lamp burning on the deal table against the side of the wall. It was the sight of those two powerful men drawn up in grim silence, the one against the door leading to the front hall, the other against that opening into the kitchen.
“A glance at Luttra standing silent and undismayed at my side, however, instantly reassured me. With that will exercised in my favor, I could not but win through whatever it was that menaced me. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I made a move towards the door and the silent figure of my host. But with a quick outreaching of her hand, she drew me back.
“‘Stand still!’ said she. ‘Karl,’ she went on, turning her face towards the more sullen but less intent countenance of her brother, ‘open the door and let this gentleman pass. He finds the house unsafe in such a gale and desires to leave it. At once!’ she continued as her brother settled himself more determinedly against the lock: ‘I don’t often ask favors.’
“‘The man is a fool that wants to go out in a night like this,’ quoth the fellow with a dogged move; ‘and so are you to encourage it. I think too much of your health to allow it.’
“She did not seem to hear. ‘Will you open the door?’ she went on, not advancing a step from the fire, before which she had placed herself and me.’
“‘No, I won’t,’ was the brutal reply. ‘It’s been locked for the night and it’s not me nor one like me, that will open it.’
“With a sudden whitening of her already pale face, she turned towards her father. He was not even looking at her.
“‘Someone must open the house,’ said she, glancing back at her brother. ‘This gentleman purposes to leave and his whim must be humored. Will you unlock that door or shall I?’
“An angry snarl interrupted her. Her father had bounded from the door where he stood and was striding hastily towards her. In my apprehension I put up my arm for a shield, for he looked ready to murder her, but I let it drop again as l caught her glance which was like white flame undisturbed by the least breeze of personal terror.
“‘You will stop there,’ said she, pointing to a spot a few feet from where she stood. ‘Another step and I let that for which I have heard you declare you would peril your very soul, fall into the heart of the flames.’ And drawing from her breast a roll of bills, she stretched them out above the fire before which she was standing.
“‘You ——-’ broke from the gray-bearded lips of the old man, but he stopped where he was, eyeing those bills as if fascinated.
“‘I am not a girl of many words, as you know,’ continued she in a lofty tone inexpressibly commanding. ‘You may strangle me, you may kill me, it matters little; but this gentleman leaves the house this night, or I destroy the money with a gesture.’
“‘You ——-’ again broke from those quivering lips, but the old man did not move.
“Not so the younger. With a rush he left his post and in another instant would have had his powerful arms about her slender form, only that I met him half way with a blow that laid him on the floor at her feet. She said nothing, but one of the bills immediately left her hand and fluttered into the fire where it instantly shrivelled into nothing.
“With the yell of a mad beast wounded in his most vulnerable spot, the old man before us stamped with his heel upon the floor.
“‘Stop!’ cried he; and going rapidly to the front door he opened it. ‘There!’ shrieked he, ‘if you will be fools, go! and may the lightning blast you. But first give me the money.’
“‘Come from the door,’ said she, reaching out her left hand for the lantern hanging at the side of the fireplace, ‘and let Karl light this and keep himself out of the way.’
“It was all done. In less time than I can tell it, the old man had stepped from the door, the younger one had lit the lantern and we were in readiness to depart.
“‘Now do you proceed,’ said she to me, ‘I will follow.’
“‘No,’ said I, ‘we will go together.’
“‘But the money?’ growled the heavy voice of my host over my shoulder.
“‘I will give it to you on my return,’ said the girl.”
CHAPTER XII
A WOMAN’S LOVE
“Shall I ever forget the blast of driving rain that struck our faces and enveloped us in a cloud of wet, as the door swung on its hinges and let us forth into the night; or the electric thrill that shot through me as that slender girl grasped my hand and drew me away through the blinding darkness. It was not that I was so much affected by her beauty as influenced by her power and energy. The fury of the gale seemed to bend to her will, the wind lend wings to her feet. I began to realize what intellect was. Arrived at the roadside, she paused and looked back. The two burly forms of the men we had left behind us were standing in the door of the inn; in another moment they had plunged forth and towards us. With a low cry the young girl leaped towards a tree where to my unbounded astonishment I beheld my horse standing ready saddled. Dragging the mare from her fastenings, she hung the lantern, burning as it was, on the pommel of the saddle, struck the panting creature a smart blow upon the flank, and drew back with a leap to my side.
“The startled horse snorted, gave a plunge of dismay and started away from us down the road.
“‘We will wait,’ said Luttra.
“The words were no sooner out of her mouth than her father and brother rushed by.
“‘They will follow the light,’ whispered she; and seizing me again by the hand, she hurried me away in the direction opposite to that which the horse had taken. ‘If you will trust me, I will bring you to shelter,’ she murmured, bending her slight form to the gusty wind but relaxing not a whit of her speed.
“‘You are too kind,’ I murmured in return. ‘Why should you expose yourself to such an extent for a stranger?’
“Her hand tightened on mine, but she did not reply, and we hastened on as speedily as the wind and rain would allow. After a short but determined breasting of the storm, during which my breath had nearly failed me, she suddenly stopped.
“‘Do you know,’ she exclaimed in a low impressive tone, ‘that we are on the verge of a steep and dreadful precipice? It runs along here for a quarter of a mile and
it is not an uncommon thing for a horse and rider to be dashed over it in a night like this.’
“There was something in her manner that awakened a chill in my veins almost as if she had pointed out some dreadful doom which I had unwittingly escaped.
“‘This is, then, a dangerous road,’ I murmured.
“‘Very,’ was her hurried and almost incoherent reply.
“How far we travelled through the mud and tangled grasses of that horrible road I do not know. It seemed a long distance; it was probably not more than three quarters of a mile. At last she paused with a short ‘Here we are;’ and looking up, I saw that we were in front of a small unlighted cottage.
“No refuge ever appeared more welcome to a pair of sinking wanderers I am sure. Wet to the skin, bedrabbled with mud, exhausted with breasting the gale, we stood for a moment under the porch to regain our breath, then with her characteristic energy she lifted the knocker and struck a smart blow on the door.
“‘We will find shelter here,’ said she.
“She was not mistaken. In a few moments we were standing once more before a comfortable fire hastily built by the worthy couple whose slumbers we had thus interrupted. As I began to realize the sweetness of conscious safety, all that this young, heroic creature had done for me swept warmly across my mind. Looking up from the fire that was beginning to infuse its heat through my grateful system, I surveyed her as she slowly undid her long braids and shook them dry over the blaze, and almost started to see how young she was. Not more than sixteen I should say, and yet what an invincible will shone from her dark eyes and dignified her slender form; a will gentle as it was strong, elevated as it was unbending. I bowed my head as I watched her, in grateful thankfulness which I presently put into words.
“At once she drew herself erect. ‘I did but my duty,’ said she quietly. ‘I am glad I was prospered in it.’ Then slowly. ‘If you are grateful, sir, will you promise to say nothing of—of what took place at the inn?’
“Instantly I remembered a suspicion which had crossed my mind while there, and my hand went involuntarily to my vest pocket. The roll of bills was gone.
“She did not falter. ‘I would be relieved if you would,’ continued she.
“I drew out my empty hand, looked at it, but said nothing.
“‘Have you lost anything?’ asked she. ‘Search in your overcoat pockets.’
“I plunged my hand into the one nearest her and drew it out with satisfaction; the roll of bills was there. ‘I give you my promise,’ said I.
“‘You will find a bill missing,’ she murmured; ‘for what amount I do not know; the sacrifice of something was inevitable.’
“‘I can only wonder over the ingenuity you displayed, as well as express my appreciation for your bravery,’ returned I with enthusiasm. ‘You are a noble girl.’
“She put out her hand as if compliments hurt her. ‘It is the first time they have ever attempted anything like that,’ cried she in a quick low tone full of shame and suffering. ‘They have shown a disposition to—to take money sometimes, but they never threatened life before. And they did threaten yours. They saw you take out your money, through a hole pierced in the wall of the room you occupied, and the sight made them mad. They were going to kill you and then tumble you and your horse over the precipice below there. But I overheard them talking and when they went out to saddle the horse, I hurried up to your room to wake you. I had to take possession of the bills; you were not safe while you held them. I took them quietly because I hoped to save you without betraying them. But I failed in that. You must remember they are my father and my brother.’
“‘I will not betray them,’ said I.
“She smiled. It was a wintry gleam but it ineffably softened her face. I became conscious of a movement of pity towards her.
“‘You have a hard lot,’ remarked I. ‘Your life must be a sad one.’
“She flashed upon me one glance of her dark eye. ‘I was born for hardship,’ said she, ‘but—’ and a sudden wild shudder seized her, ‘but not for crime.’
“The word fell like a drop of blood wrung from her heart.
“‘Good heavens!’ cried I, ‘and must you—’
“‘No,’ rang from her lips in a clarion-like peal; ‘some things cut the very bonds of nature. I am not called upon to cleave to what will drag me into infamy.’ Then calmly, as if speaking of the most ordinary matter in the world, ‘I shall never go back to that house we have left behind us, sir.’
“‘But,’ cried I, glancing at her scanty garments, ‘where will you go? What will you do? You are young—’
“‘And very strong,’ she interrupted. ‘Do not fear for me.’ And her smile was like a burst of sudden sunshine.
“I said no more that night.
“But when in the morning I stumbled upon her sitting in the kitchen reading a book not only above her position but beyond her years, a sudden impulse seized me and I asked her if she would like to be educated. The instantaneous illumining of her whole face was sufficient reply without her low emphatic words,
“‘I would be content to study on my knees to know what some women do, whom I have seen.’
“It is not necessary for me to relate with what pleasure I caught at the idea that here was a chance to repay in some slight measure the inestimable favor she had done me; nor by what arguments I finally won her to accept an education at my hands as some sort of recompense for the life she had saved. The advantage which it would give her in her struggle with the world she seemed duly to appreciate, but that so great a favor could be shown her without causing me much trouble and an unwarrantable expense, she could not at once be brought to comprehend, and till she could, she held out with that gentle but inflexible will of hers. The battle, however, was won at last and I left her in that little cottage, with the understanding that as soon as the matter could be arranged, she was to enter a certain boarding-school in Troy with the mistress of which I was acquainted. Meanwhile she was to go out to service at Melville and earn enough money to provide herself with clothes.
“I was a careless fellow in those days but I kept my promise to that girl. I not only entered her into that school for a course of three years, but acting through its mistress who had taken a great fancy to her, supplied her with the necessities her position required. It was so easy; merely the signing of a check from time to time, and it was done. I say this because I really think if it had involved any personal sacrifice on my part, even of an hour of my time, or the labor of a thought, I should not have done it. For with my return to the city my interest in my cousin revived, absorbing me to such an extent that any matter disconnected with her soon lost all charm for me.
“Two years passed; I was the slave of Evelyn Blake, but there was no engagement between us. My father’s determined opposition was enough to prevent that. But there was an understanding which I fondly hoped would one day open for me the way of happiness. But I did not know my father. Sick as he was—he was at that time laboring under the disease which in a couple of months later bore him to the tomb—he kept an eye upon my movements and seemed to probe my inmost heart. At last he came to a definite decision and spoke.
“His words opened a world of dismay before me. I was his only child, as he remarked, and it had been and was the desire of his heart to leave me as rich and independent a man as himself. But I seemed disposed to commit one of those acts against which he had the most determined prejudice; marriage between cousins being in his eyes an unsanctified and dangerous proceeding, liable to consequences the most unhappy. If I persisted, he must will his property elsewhere. The Blake estate should never descend with the seal of his approbation to a race of probable imbeciles.
“Nor was this enough. He not only robbed me of the woman I loved, but with a clear insight into the future, I presume, insisted upon my marrying someone else of respectability and worth before he died. ‘Anyone whose appearance will do you credit and whose virtue is beyond reproach,’ said he. ‘I don’t ask her t
o be rich or even the offspring of one of our old families. Let her be good and pure and of no connection to us, and I will bless her and you with my dying breath.’
“The idea had seized upon him with great force, and I soon saw he was not to be shaken out of it. To all my objections he returned but the one word,
“‘I don’t restrict your choice and I give you a month in which to make it. If at the end of that time you cannot bring your bride to my bedside, I must look around for an heir who will not thwart my dying wishes.’”
“A month! I surveyed the fashionable belles that nightly thronged the parlors of my friends and felt my heart sink within me. Take one of them for my wife, loving another woman? Impossible. Women like these demanded something in return for the honor they conferred upon a man by marrying him. Wealth? they had it. Position? that was theirs also. Consideration? ah, what consideration had I to give? I turned from them with distaste.
“My cousin Evelyn gave me no help. She was a proud woman and loved my money and my expectations as much as she did me.
“‘If you must marry another woman to retain your wealth, marry, said she, ‘but do not marry one of my associates. I will have no rival in my own empire; your wife must be a plainer and a less aspiring woman than Evelyn Blake. Yet do not discredit your name—which is mine,’ she would always add.
“Meanwhile the days flew by. If my own conscience had allowed me to forget the fact, my father’s eagerly inquiring, but sternly unrelenting gaze as I came each evening to his bedside, would have kept it sufficiently in my mind. I began to feel like one in the power of some huge crushing machine whose slowly descending weight he in vain endeavors to escape.
“How or when the thought of Luttra first crossed my mind I cannot say. At first I recoiled at the suggestion and put it away from me in disdain; but it ever recurred and with it so many arguments in her favor that before long I found myself regarding it as a refuge. To be sure she was a waif and a stray, but that seemed to be the kind of wife demanded of me. She was allied to rogues if not villains, I knew; but then had she not cut all connection with them, dropped away from them, planted her feet on new ground which they would never invade? I commenced to cherish the idea. With this friendless, grateful, unassuming protegee of mine for a wife, I would be as little bound as might be. She would ask nothing, and I need give nothing, beyond a home and the common attentions required of a gentleman and a friend. Then she was not disagreeable, nor was her beauty of a type to suggest the charms of her I had lost. None of the graces of the haughty patrician lady whose lightest gesture was a command, would appear in this humble girl, to mock and constrain me. No, I should have a fair wife and an obedient one, but no vulgarized shadow of Evelyn, thank God, or of any of her fashionably dressed friends.
The Anna Katharine Green Mystery Megapack Page 284
