by Rex Beach
CHAPTER XII
A TANGLED SKEIN
When Burrell entered he wasted no time in greetings.
"I know why you sent for me, Poleon. I've heard the news, and I wouldhave been up anyhow to congratulate her very soon. I call it prettyfine."
"Yes, dere's been beeg strike all right, an' Necia is goin' be richegal."
"I'm as pleased as if the claim were mine, and you feel the same way,of course."
The Frenchman nodded. "I love Necia very much, lak'--well, lak' I'mbroder to her." The knowledge that she was listening made him veryuncomfortable--in fact, this whole affair savored more ofdouble-dealing and treachery than anything he had ever attempted, andit went sorely against his grain, but it had presented itself as theonly way to help her, and he proceeded, groping haltingly for fitexpression, "Dere's t'ing I want for talk 'bout wit' you, but I'mscare' you'll t'ink I'm butt in."
"Nonsense," said Burrell. "I know you too well for that."
"You know me for good man, eh? An' you know I ain' try for bre'k upoder fellers' biznesse, never! Wal, I'm come to you now lak' wan goodman to 'noder biccause I'm got bad trouble on de min', an' you mus'n'tget sore."
"There's no danger, Poleon. Let's have it. If there is anything I cando, you may count on me."
"Wal," he began, nervously, clearing his throat, "it's lak' dis. Dere'sfeller been talk some 'bout Necia, an' it ain' nice talk neider."
"Who is he?" exclaimed the soldier, in a tone that made the girl'sheart leap.
"Wait! Lemme tol' you w'at he say, den we'll talk 'bout feex 'implaintee. He say dere's joke down on Stark's saloon dat Necia Gale ismak' fool of herse'f on you, an' dat you ain' care for marry her."
"Runnion!" cried Burrell, and started for the door. "I'll settle withhim now for fair!" But Poleon blocked his way, and, observing himgravely, continued, in a tone that the other could not disregard normistake:
"No, M'sieu', before you pass on dat place you'll tol' me if it's true."
"True!" the Lieutenant retorted, angrily. "What business is it ofyours? This concerns me."
"An' me, too! I'm w'at you call gardeen for Necia till John Gale comeback, an' I'm broder of her, too. You promis' jus' now you don' getmad, an' I don' say she's Runnion neider w'at spik dose t'ing; dere'smore dan 'im been talkin'. Is it true?"
His sternness offended Burrell, for the soldier was not the kind todiscuss his affairs in this way, therefore he drew back scowling.
"Poleon Doret," he said, "it's not one's enemies who do him injury,it's his damned fool friends. I have learned to regard you highlybecause you are a brave man and an honest one, but it seems that youare a sentimental idiot."
"Dem is tough word," Doret replied. "But dere's reason w'y I can't tak'on no madnesse. You say I'm hones'. Wal, I'm hones' now, an' I come toyou wit' fair words an' I show my han' to you--I don' hoi' out nocards, M'sieu'--but I don' t'ink it is you who have play square,altogeder. I'm Necia's frien', an' I'll fight for her jus' so queeckerlak' you, but I mus' know dis t'ing for sure, so if you have de goodheart an' de courage of good man you'll tell me de truth. Do you havethe feelin' for marry on her?"
The pause that followed was awkward for both of them, while the girl,who stood concealed near by, held her breath and buried her nails inher palms. Why did he hesitate? Would he never speak? It seemed not,for he swung between diverse emotions--anger that this outsider shouldquestion him on so intimate a matter, chagrin at the knowledge ofhaving injured Necia, and rage, blind rage, at the thought of itsbecoming a bar-room topic. Gradually the conviction grew that it wasnot a question of idle curiosity with Doret, and the man's historyrecurred to him. No wonder he was interested in the girl, no wonder hewished to guard her; he had been a brother indeed, even as he said, andhe could have no motive save an honorable one. It never occurred to thesoldier that this Frenchman could harbor feelings akin to his own. Theman was rough and foreign; his thoughts had been couched in harsherlanguage, perhaps, than he intended; moreover, the fellow's high senseof honor was a byword--and of a sudden the desire to set himself rightin this man's eyes dictated his answer.
"I am amazed at myself for listening to you," he said, at last, "andquite shocked, in fact, at my answering your questions, but perhaps I'dbetter, after all. First, however, let me say that the little girl isjust as pure now as she was before she knew me--"
Poleon threw up his hand. "M'sieu', dat's more closer to de insult danw'at you call me jus' now. You don' need for spoke it."
"You're right! There's no need to tell you that. As for showing hercertain attentions--well, I admit that I have, as you know, but, thankGod, I can say I've been a gentleman and addressed her as I would thefairest lady I've known."
"An' you mean for marry, eh?" probed the other.
Now, no man could have answered such a direct question easily, and inthis case it was especially hard for the Kentuckian, who was tornbetween his ungovernable desire and that decision which cold reason hadthrust upon him. He wanted to say, "Yes, I'll marry her to-morrow," butsomething bade him pause before he sacrificed upon this altar of ayouthful love his life, his hopes, his ambitions. Had he not wrestledwith himself for months in thinking it all out, until his mind wasweary and listless with the effort? For the great test that tries aman's soul and compels him to know himself had not yet come to MeadeBurrell; wherefore, he hesitated long.
"I did not say so," he declared, at last. "It's a thing I can't welldiscuss, because I doubt if you could understand what I would say. Thislife of yours is different from mine, and it would be useless for me toexplain the reason why I cannot marry her. Leaving out all question ofmy sentiment, there are insurmountable obstacles to such a union; butas to this talk, I think that can be stopped without annoyance to her,and as for the rest, we must trust to time to bring about a properadjustment--"
A low, discordant sound of laughter arrested his words, and, turning,he beheld Necia standing revealed in the dimness.
"What an amusing person you are!" she said. "I've had hard work holdingin all this time while you were torturing your mind and twisting thehonest English language out of shape and meaning. I knew I should haveto laugh sooner or later."
"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Is it a joke?"
"Indeed it is," she declared, laughing afresh, "and the best I've everenjoyed. Wasn't it funny, Poleon"--she turned gayly to the Frenchman,but he stood like one petrified--"to see him debating coolly whether hecared for me enough to face the world with me, and trying to explain toyou that he was too good to marry a squaw? Oh, you were verygentlemanly about it, sir, and you wouldn't have hurt my feelings forthe world!"
"Necia!"
"That's your Dixie chivalry, I suppose. Well, I've played with you longenough, Lieutenant Burrell, I'm tired of the game, and you interest meno longer."
"You--you--say you've been playing with me!" stammered the man. Thebottom of things seemed suddenly to slide from under him; he was likeone sinking in some hideous quagmire. He felt as if he were choking.
"Why, of course," she cried, scornfully, "just as you took me up foramusement. You were such a fine, well-dressed, immaculate mound ofconceit that I couldn't resist the temptation, and you hid yourcondescension so poorly that I thought you ought to be taken down apeg. I knew I was a squaw, but I wanted to see if I were not like otherwomen, after all, and if you were not like other men." She was talkingrapidly now, almost shrilly, for she had never attempted to act before,while he stood dazed and speechless, fumbling at his throat while sherailed at him. "You needn't waste time debating whether I'm good enoughfor you, because I'm not--decidedly, I'm not your kind, and you are ajoke to me."
He uttered an inarticulate cry, but she ran on unheeding, her eyes wideand glowing like coals, her lips chalk-white. "You see, it's time Istopped such foolishness, anyhow, for I'm to be married on Sunday."
"You are going to be married?" he muttered, laboriously.
"Yes, to Poleon. Why, that's been understood for years."
He whirled u
pon the Canadian in a fury, and his words came hot andtumbling.
"So you're in this, Doret. You're a part of this little farce. Youtrapped me here to make a fool of me, did you? Well, I can settle withyou--"
"D-don't blame him!" cried the girl, hysterically. "It is all my doing.He had no part in it."
Burrell wheeled back to the Frenchman again. "Is this true?"
"Yes," said Doret, in a restrained voice. "Dis ain' no work of mine."
"You're a liar!" breathed the Kentuckian, now fairly wild with anger;but the other looked him squarely between the eyes and made no move.
"M'sieu'," he cried, "I'm livin' t'orty year, an' never took no nam'lak' dat before, but dere's reason here w'y I can't mak' no answer." Heinclined his head towards the girl, and before Burrell could break outagain he checked him.
"It's no good mak' fight wit' lesser dan two people. You've tol' me datyou are gentleman. Wal, I ain' nobody but trapper an' trader, but Idon' spoil de name of no good girl, an' I don' quarrel in presence oflady, so mebbe, affer all, dere's mistak' somew'ere, an' I'm gentlemanmese'f 'stead of you."
"Why, you aren't really angry, Lieutenant?" mocked Necia. "It's onlythe joke of an ignorant half-breed girl whose sense of humor is all outof gear. You mustn't quarrel over a SQUAW!"
She taunted him like a baited badger, for this thing was getting beyondher control and the savage instincts of the wilderness were uppermost.
"You are quite right," he replied. "I am very foolish, and the laugh iswith you." His lips tried to frame a smile, but failed, and he added:"Your wit is not my kind, that is all. I beg you both to accept mycongratulations on your nuptials. Undoubtedly, you will be happytogether; two people with such similar ideas of humor must have much toenjoy in common." He bowed low and, turning, walked out.
The moment he was gone she cried, breathlessly:
"You must marry me, Poleon. You've got to do it now."
"Do you mean dat for sure?" he said.
"Can't you see there's nothing else for it, after this? I'll show himthat he can't make me a toy to suit his convenience. I've told him Iwould marry you on Sunday, and I'll do it or die. Of course you don'tlove me, for you don't know what love is, I suppose; how--could you?"She broke down and began to catch her breath amid coughing sobs thatshook her slender body, though they left her eyes dry and feverish.
"I--I'm very unhappy, b-but I'll be a good--wife to you. Oh, Poleon, ifyou only knew--"
He drew a long breath. When he spoke his voice had the timbre of somesoftly played instrument, and a tremor ran through his words.
"No! I don' know w'at kin' of love is dis, for sure. De kin' of love Iknow is de kin' I sing 'bout in my songs; I s'pose it's different breedto yours, an' I'm begin to see it don' live nowhere but on dem songs ofmine. Dere's long tarn' I waste here now--five year--but to-morrow I goagain lookin' for my own countree."
"Poleon!" she cried, looking up with startled eyes. "Not to-morrow, butSunday--we will go together."
He shook his head. "To-morrow, Necia! An' I go alone."
"Then you won't--marry me?" she asked, in a hushed and frightened voice.
"No! Dere's wan t'ing I can't do even for you, Necia, dere's wan t'ingI can't geeve, dat's all--jus' wan on all de worl'. I can't kill deli'l' god wit' de bow an' arrer. He's all dat mak' de sun shine, debirds sing, an' de leaves w'isper to me; he's de wan li'l' feller w'atmak' my life wort' livin' an' keep music in my soul. If I keel 'im dereain' no more lef lak' it, an' I'm never goin' fin' my lan' of content,nor sing nor laugh no more. I'm t'inkin' I would rader sing songs to'im all alone onderneat' de stars beside my campfire, an' talk wit' 'imin my bark canoe, dan go livin' wit' you in fine house an' let 'im getcol' an' die."
"But I told him I'd marry you--that I had always intended to. He'llbelieve I was lying," she moaned, in distress.
"Dat's too bad--but dis t'ing ain' no doin's wit' me. Dere's wan t'ingin dis worl' mus' live forever, an' dat's love--if we kill 'im den it'spurty poor place for stoppin' in. I'm cut off my han' for help you,Necia, but I can't be husban' to no woman in fun."
"Your foolish head is full of romance," she burst out. "You thinkyou're doing me a favor, but you're not. Why, there's Runnion--he wantsme so much that he'd 'even marry me'!" Her wild laughter stabbed theman. "Was ever a girl in such a fix! I've been made love to ever sinceI was half a woman, but at thought of a priest men seem to turn paleand run like whipped dogs. I'm only good enough for a bad man and agambler, I suppose." She sank to a seat, flung out her arms hopelessly,and, bowing her head, began to weep uncontrollably. "If--if--I only hada woman to talk to--but they are all men--all men."
Poleon waited patiently until her paroxysm of sobbing had passed, thengently raised her and led her out through the back door into the summerday, which an hour ago had been so bright and promising and was now sogray and dismal. He followed her with his eyes until she disappearedinside the log-house.
"An' dat's de end of it all," he mused. "Five year I've wait--an' jus'for dis."
Meade Burrell never knew how he gained his quarters, but when he haddone so he locked his door behind him, then loosed his hold on thingsmaterial. He raged about the room like a wild animal, and vented hisspite on every inanimate thing that lay within reach. His voice wasstrange in his own ears, as was the destructive frenzy that possessedhim. In time he grew quieter, as the physical energy of this brutalimpulse spent itself; but there came no surcease of his mentaldisquiet. As yet his mind grasped but dully the fact that she was tomarry another, but gradually this thought in turn took possession ofhim. She would be a wife in two days. That great, roistering, brown manwould fold her to himself--she would yield to him every inch of herpalpitant, passionate body. The thought drove the lover frantic, and hefelt that madness lay that way if he dwelt on such fancies for long. Ofa sudden he realized all that she meant to him, and cursed himselfanew. While he had the power to possess her he had dallied andhesitated, but now that he had no voice in it, now that she wasirretrievably beyond his reach, he vowed to snatch her and hold heragainst the world.
As he grew calmer his reason began to dissect the scene that had takenplace in the store, and he wondered whether she had been lying to him,after all. No doubt she had been engaged to the Frenchman, and hadalways planned to wed Poleon, for that was not out of reason; she mighteven have set out mischievously to amuse herself with him, but at therecollection of those rapturous hours they had spent together, hedeclared aloud that she had loved him, and him only. Every instinct inhim shouted that she loved him, in spite of her cruel protestations.
All that afternoon he stayed locked in his room, and during thosesolitary hours he came to know his own soul. He saw what life meant:what part love plays in it, how dwarfed and withered all things arewhen pitted against it.
A man came with his supper, but he called to him to be gone. The nightsettled slowly, and with the darkness came such a feeling of despairand lonesomeness that Burrell lighted every lamp and candle in theplace to dispel, in some measure, the gloom that had fallen upon him.There are those who believe that in passing from daylight to darkness asubtle transition occurs akin to the change from positive to negativein an electrical current, and that this intangible, untraceableatmospheric influence exerts a definite, psychical effect upon men andtheir modes of thought. Be this as it may, it is certain that as thenight grew darker the Lieutenant's mood changed. He lost his fierceanger at the girl, and reasoned that he owed it to her to set himselfright in her eyes; that in all justice to her he ought to prove his ownsincerity, and assure her that whatever her own state of mind had been,she wronged him when she said he had made sport of her for his ownpleasure. She might then dismiss him and proceed with her marriage, butfirst she must know this much of the truth at least. So he argued,insensible to the sophistry of his reasoning, which was in realityimpelled by the hunger to see her and hear her voice again. He snatchedhis hat and bolted out, almost running in his eagerness.
An up-river steamboat was just landing as he nea
red the trading-post--afreighter, as he noted by her lights. In the glare at the river-bank hesaw Poleon and the trader, who had evidently returned from Lee's Creek,and without accosting them he hurried on to the store. Peering in fromthe darkness, he saw Alluna; no doubt Necia was alone in the housebehind. So he stumbled around to the back to find the window of herroom aglow behind its curtain, and, receiving no answer to his knock,he entered, for it was customary at Gale's to waive ceremony. Insidethe big room he paused, then stepped swiftly across and rapped at herdoor, falling back a pace as she came out.
Instead of speaking at once, as he had planned, to prevent herescaping, he was struck speechless, for the vision that met his eyeswas that which he had seen one blithe spring morning three monthsbefore; but to-night there was no shawl to conceal her sweetly roundedneck and shoulders, whose whiteness was startling against the black ofthe ball-room gown. The slim gold chain hung around her neck and herhair was piled high, as before. He noted every smallest detail as shestood there waiting for him to speak, forgetful of everything else.
She had put on the gown again to see if, perchance, there might be somemark of her blood or breed that had escaped her previous scrutiny, and,as there was no one to observe her, she had attired herself slowly,absorbed in her whimsy. Her wistful beauty dazed the young man androbbed him of the words he had rehearsed; but as she made to flee fromhim, with a pitiful gesture, towards her room, the fear of losing heraroused him and spurred his wit.
"Don't go away! I have something I must tell you. I've thought it over,and you've got to listen, Necia."
"I am listening," she answered, very quietly.
"Understand me, I'm not whining, and I'm willing to take my medicine. Icouldn't talk or think very straight this afternoon, but you werewrong."
"Yes, I know now, I was wrong. It was most unlady-like, wasn't it? Butyou see, I am only a little savage."
"I don't mean that; I mean you were wrong when you said I had playedwith you. In the sight of God, I swear you were mistaken. You have mademe love you, Necia. Can't you see?"
She made no sign.
"If you can't, I owe it to you and to myself to set you right. I am notashamed to acknowledge my love, and even when you are married to PoleonI want you to know that I shall love you always."
Even yet she made no sign. Was he not merely repeating the same emptywords with which he had so often beguiled her? There was no word ofmarriage: he still considered her unworthy, beneath him. The pain of itcaused the girl to wince suddenly, and her sensitive face flinched,seeing which he broke out:
"You do love me, Necia--you do; I see it in your eyes!" And he startedtowards her with open arms, but she shrank away from him.
"No, no! Don't touch me!" she almost screamed.
"My dear one," he breathed, "you must listen to me. You have nothing tofear, for I love you--love you--love you! You were made for me! You'llbe my wife. Yes; you'll be married on Sunday, but to me, not to Poleonor any other man!"
Did she hear aright? Was he, her soldier lover, asking her, the Indiangirl--?
"You do love me, don't you?" he pleaded. But still she could not speak,and he tried to read the answer in her swimming eyes.
"You mean--you want to--marry me?" she murmured, at last, hesitatingshyly at the word that had come to play so momentous a part in herlittle world.
"Indeed I do!" he declared, with emphasis. "In spite of everything,anything. Nothing else matters."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing! I'll quit the army. I'll give up the Service, and my people,too. I'll put everything back of me, and we'll start out anew--just youand I."
"Wait a moment," she said, retreating a little from his eager,out-stretched arms. "Why do you need to do all that?"
"Never mind why; it's as good as done. You wouldn't understand--"
"But I think I do understand now. Do I really mean all that to you?"
"Yes, and more!"
"Listen to me," said the girl, quietly. "I want you to talk slowly so Imay not misunderstand. If you--marry me, must you forego all thosegreat things you speak of--your profession, your family, your future?"
"Don't let's talk about it, Necia; I've got you, and--"
"Please answer me," she urged. "I thought I understood, but I'm afraidI don't. I thought it was my being a breed that stood in the way--"
"There's nothing in the way--"
"--that I wasn't good enough. I knew I could overcome that; I knew Icould make myself grow to your level, but I didn't think my blood wouldfetter you and make this difference. I suppose I am putting itawkwardly, because I'm not sure that I quite understand it myself yet.Things seem different now, somehow, than they did before."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the soldier. "If they don't bother me, Necia, whyshould you worry?"
"Would you really have to give up your family--your sister? Would thosepeople you are so proud of and who are so proud of you--would they cutyou off?"
"There is no question of cutting off. I have no inheritance coming; Idon't want any. I don't want anything except you, dear."
"Won't you tell me?" she persisted. "You see, I am dull at thesethings."
"Well, what if they do?" he conceded. "You more than make it up tome--you outweigh a thousand families."
"And would your marriage to a--a--to me destroy your army career?"
"Well, it will really be much easier for both of us if I resign fromthe Service," he finally admitted. "In fact, I've decided to do so atonce."
"No, no! You mustn't do that. To-night you think I am worth the price,but a day will come--"
He leaned forward and caught her hands in his.
"--Meade, I can't let you do it."
"I'd like to see you help yourself," he said, banteringly.
"I can and I will. You must not marry me, Meade--it's not right--itcan't be." She suddenly realized what this renunciation would mean, andbegan to shiver. To think of losing him now, after he had come to herfreely--it would be very hard! But to her, too, there had come therevelation that love means sacrifice, and she knew now that she lovedher soldier too well to let her shadow darken his bright future, toowell to ruin him.
"It will be over before you know it," she heard him saying, in a lameattempt at levity. "Father Barnum is an expert, and the operation won'toccupy him ten minutes."
"Meade, you must listen to me now," she said, so earnestly that itsobered him. "Do you think a girl could be happy if she knew a good manhad spoiled his life for her? I would rather die now than let you dosuch a thing. I couldn't bear to see myself a drag on you. Oh, I knowit would be wonderful, this happiness of ours, for a time, and then--"She was finding it more and more difficult to continue. "A prisonergrows to hate the chains that bind him; when that day came for you, Ishould hate myself. No, no! Believe me, it can't be. You're not of mypeople, and I'm not of yours."
At that moment they heard the voices of the trader and his squawoutside, approaching the house. The girl's breath caught in her throat,she flung herself recklessly upon her lover's breast and threw her armsaround his neck in an agony of farewell.
"Meade! Meade! my soldier!" she sobbed, "kiss me good-bye for the lasttime!"
"No," he said roughly.
But she dragged his face down to her burning lips.
"Now you must go," she said, tearing herself away, "and, for my sake,don't see me again."
"I will! I will! I'll ask your father for you to-night."
"No, no! Don't; please don't! Wait till--till to-morrow--till I say theword! Promise me! On your love, promise!"
Her eyes held such a painful entreaty that he nodded acquiescence asthe door opened and her father and Alluna entered.
