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Agatha Webb

Page 14

by Anna Katharine Green


  XIV

  A FINAL TEMPTATION

  Frederick looked like a man thoroughly exhausted when the final echo ofthis hateful voice died away on the hillside. For the last twenty hourshe had been the prey of one harrowing emotion after another, and humannature could endure no more without rest.

  But rest would not come. The position in which he found himself, betweenAmabel and the man who had just left, was of too threatening a naturefor him to ignore. But one means of escape presented itself. It was acowardly one; but anything was better than to make an attempt to standhis ground against two such merciless antagonists; so he resolved uponflight.

  Packing up a few necessaries and leaving a letter behind him for hisfather, he made his way down the stairs of the now darkened house to adoor opening upon the garden. To his astonishment he found it unlocked,but, giving little heed to this in his excitement, he opened it withcaution, and, with a parting sigh for the sheltering home he was aboutto leave forever, stepped from the house he no longer felt worthy toinhabit.

  His intention was to take the train at Portchester, and that he mightreach that place without inconvenient encounters, he decided to proceedby a short cut through the fields. This led him north along the ridgethat overlooks the road running around the base of the hill. He did notthink of this road, however, or of anything, in fact, but the necessityof taking the very earliest train out of Portchester. As this left at3.30 A.M., he realised that he must hasten in order to reach it. But hewas not destined to take it or any other train out of Portchester thatnight, for when he reached the fence dividing Mr. Sutherland's groundsfrom those of his adjoining neighbour, he saw, drawn up in the moonlightjust at the point where he had intended to leap the fence, the form of awoman with one hand held out to stop him.

  It was Amabel.

  Confounded by this check and filled with an anger that was nigh todangerous, he fell back and then immediately sprang forward.

  "What are you doing here?" he cried. "Don't you know that it is eleveno'clock and that my father requires the house to be closed at thathour?"

  "And you?" was her sole retort; "what are you doing here? Are yousearching for flowers in the woods, and is that valise you carry thereceptacle in which you hope to put your botanical specimens?"

  With a savage gesture he dropped the valise and took her fiercely by theshoulders.

  "Where have you hidden my money?" he hissed. "Tell me, or---"

  "Or what?" she asked, smiling into his face in a way that made him losehis grip.

  "Or--or I cannot answer for myself," he proceeded, stammering. "Do you.think I can endure everything from you because you are a woman? No; Iwill have those bills, every one of them, or show myself your master.Where are they, you incarnate fiend?"

  It was an unwise word to use, but she did not seem to heed it.

  "Ah," she said softly, and with a lingering accent, as if his grasp ofher had been a caress to which she was not entirely averse. "I did notthink you would discover its loss so soon. When did you go to the woods,Frederick? And was Miss Halliday with you?"

  He had a disposition to strike her, but controlled himself. Blows wouldnot avail against the softness of this suave, yet merciless, being. Onlya will as strong as her own could hope to cope with this smiling fury;and this he was determined to show, though, alas! he had everything tolose in a struggle that robbed her of nothing but a hope which was but abaseless fabric at best; for he was more than ever determined never tomarry her.

  "A man does not need to wait long to miss his own," said he. "And if youhave taken this money, which, you do not deny, you have shown yourselfvery short-sighted, for danger lies closer to the person holding thismoney than to the one you vilify by your threats. This you will find,Amabel, when you come to make use of the weapon with which you havethought to arm yourself."

  "Tut, tut!" was her contemptuous reply. "Do you consider me a child? DoI look like a babbling infant, Frederick?"

  Her face, which had been lifted to his in saying this, was so illumined,both by her smile, which was strangely enchanting for one so evil, andby the moonlight, which so etherialises all that it touches, that hefound himself forced to recall that other purer, truer face he had leftat the honeysuckle porch to keep down a last wild impulse toward her,which would have been his undoing, both in this world and the next, ashe knew.

  "Or do I look simply like a woman?" she went on, seeing the impressionshe had made, and playing upon it. "A woman who understands herself andyou and all the secret perils of the game we are both playing? If I am achild, treat me as a child; but if I am a woman---"

  "Stand out of my way!" he cried, catching up his valise and stridingfuriously by her. "Woman or child, know that I will not be yourplaything to be damned in this world and in the next."

  "Are you bound for the city of destruction?" she laughed, not moving,but showing such confidence in her power to hold him back that hestopped in spite of himself. "If so, you are taking the direct roadthere and have only to hasten. But you had better remain in yourfather's house; even if you are something of a prisoner there, like myvery insignificant self. The outcome will be more satisfactory, even ifyou have to share your future with me."

  "And what course will you take," he asked, pausing with his hand on thefence, "if I decide to choose destruction without you, rather thanperdition with you?"

  "What course? Why, I shall tell Dr. Talbot just enough to show you to beas desirable a witness in the impending inquest as myself. The result Ileave to your judgment. But you will not drive me to this extremity. Youwill come back and--"

  "Woman, I will never come back. I shall have to dare your worst in aweek and will begin by daring you now. I--"

  But he did not leap the fence, though he made a move to do so, for atthat moment a party of men came hurrying by on the lower road, one ofwhom was heard to say:

  "I will bet my head that we will put our hand on Agatha Webb's murdererto-night. The man who shoves twenty-dollar bills around so heedlesslyshould not wear a beard so long it leads to detection."

  It was the coroner, the constable, Knapp, and Abel on their way to theforest road on which lived John and James Zabel.

  Frederick and Amabel confronted each other, and after a moment's silencereturned as if by a common impulse towards the house.

  "What have they got in their heads?" queried she. "Whatever it is, itmay serve to occupy them till the week of your probation is over."

  He did not answer. A new and overwhelming complication had been added tothe difficulties of his situation.

 

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