CHAPTER III.
Holding in leash the painful emotions that struggled for utterance,Beryl was unconscious of the lapse of time, and when her averted eyesreturned reluctantly to her grandfather's face, he was slowly tearinginto shreds the tear-stained letter, freighted with passionate prayersfor pardon, and for succor. Rolling the strips into a ball, he threw itinto the waste-paper basket under the table; then filled a glass withsherry, drank it, and dropped his head wearily on his hand. Five leadenminutes crawled away, and a long, heavy sigh quivered through Gen'lDarrington's gaunt frame. Seizing the decanter, he poured the contentsinto two glasses, and as he raised one to his lips, held the othertoward his visitor.
"You must be weary from your journey; let me insist that you drink somesherry."
"Thank you, I neither wish nor require it."
"I find your name is Beryl. Sit down here, and answer a few questions."He drew a chair near his own.
She shook her head:
"If you will excuse me, I prefer to stand."
In turning, so as to confront her fully, his elbow struck from thetable, a bronze paper-weight which rolled just beyond his reach.Instinctively she stooped to pick it up, and in restoring it, herfingers touched his. Leaning suddenly forward he grasped her wrists ereshe was aware of his intention, and drew her in front of him.
"Pardon me; but I want a good look at you."
His keen merciless eyes searched every feature, and he deliberatelylifted and examined the exquisitely shaped strong, white hands, thedainty nails, and delicately rounded wrists with their violet traceryof veins. It cost her an effort, to abstain from wrenching herselffree; but her mother's caution: "So much depends on the impression youmake upon father," girded her to submit to his critical inspection.
A grim smile crossed his face, as he watched her.
"Blood often doubles, like a fox; sometimes 'crops back,' but neverlies. You can't play out your role of pauper; and you don't look aprobable outcome of destitution and hard work. Your hands would fitmuch better in a metope of the Elgin Marbles, than in a wash-tub, or abake-oven."
Drawing away quickly, she put them behind her, and felt her palmstingle.
"It is expected I should believe that for some time past, you haveprovided for your own, and your mother's wants. In what way?"
"By coloring photographs; by furnishing designs for Christmas andEaster cards, and occasionally (not often), by selling drawings usedfor decorating china, and wallpaper. At one time, I had regular pay forsinging in a choir, but diphtheria injured my throat, and when I partlyrecovered my voice, the situation had been given to another person."
"I am informed also that before long, you intend to astonish the worldwith a wonderful picture, which shall distance such laggards as Troyon,Dore, and Ary Scheffer?"
She was looking, not at him, but out through the glass door, at theglowing western sky, where distant pine trees printed theirsilhouettes. Now her gaze came back to his face, and he noted a faintquiver in her full throat.
"If God will mercifully spare my mother to me, my loftiest and holiestambition shall be to distance the wolfish cares and woes that havehunted her, ever since she became a widow. Any and all honest laborthat can contribute to her comfort, will be welcome and sweet to me."
"The laws of heredity must be occult and complex. The offspring of arebellious and disobedient child, is certainly entitled to no filialinstincts; and some day the strain will tell, and you will overwhelmyour mother with ingratitude, black as that which she showed me."
"When I do, may God eternally forsake me!"
A brief silence ensued, and the old man drummed on the table, with thefingers of his right hand.
"Who educated you?"
"My dear father."
"It seems there are two of you. Where is your brother?"
"At present, I do not know exactly where he is, but I think in the farWest; possibly in Montana--probably in Canada."
"How does he earn his bread? By daubing, or fiddling?"
"Since he earns it honestly, that is his own affair. We have not heardfrom him for some months."
"I thought so! He inherits the worthless vagabond strain of--"
"He is his mother's idol, and she glories in his resemblance to you,sir; and to your father; hence his name--Robert L. Darrington."
"Then she must have one handsome child! I am not surprised that he isthe favorite."
"Bertie certainly is her darling, and he is very handsome; not in thevery least degree like me."
For the first time, their eyes met in a friendly glance, and a covertsmile stirred the General's lips; but as he put out his hand towardher, she moved a step beyond his reach.
"Beryl, you consider me a dreadful, cruel old tyrant?"
She made no reply.
"Answer me."
"You are my mother's father; and that word--father, means so much tome, that it shall shield even you, from the shadow of disrespect."
"Oh! very dutiful indeed, but dead as the days when daughters obeyed,and honored their fathers! Beggarly foreign professors wiped all thatout of the minds of wealthy girls at boarding schools--just as theychanged their backwoods pronunciation of French and Italian. Don'tevade my question."
"I did not come here, sir, to bandy words; and I ended my mission bydelivering the letter intrusted to me."
"You regard me as a vindictive old bear?"
"I had heard much of the Darringtons; I imagined a great deal more; butnow, like the Queen of Sheba, I must testify--'Behold, the half was nottold me.'"
He threw back his lion-like head, and laughed.
"That will do. Shake hands, child."
"No, thank you."
"And you will not sit down?"
"Frankly, I prefer not. I long to get away."
"You shall certainly be gratified, but there are a few things which Iintend you shall hear. Of course you know that your mother was my onlychild, and an heiress; but you are ignorant probably of the fact thatwhen she returned to boarding school for the last session, she wasengaged in marriage to the son of my best friend--a man in everyrespect desirable, and thoroughly acceptable to me."
"So my mother told me."
"Indeed? She should blush to remember it. While she wore his engagementring, she forgot her promise to him, her duty to me, her lineage, herbirth, her position--and was inveigled by a low adventurer who--"
"Who was my own precious father--poor, but noble, and worthy of anyprincess! Unless you can refer to him respectfully, name him not atall, in his child's presence."
She suddenly towered over him, like some threatening fate, and heruplifted arm trembled from the intensity of her indignation.
"At least--you are loyal to your tribe!"
"I am, to my heart's core. You could pay me no higher compliment."
"Ellice wrote that she had bestowed her affections on--on--the 'exiledscion of a noble house,' who paid his board bill by teaching languagesand music in the school; and who very naturally preferred to marry arich fool, who would pay them for him. I answered her letter, which wasaddressed to her own mother--then quite ill at home--and I told herprecisely what she might expect, if she persisted in her insane folly.As soon as my wife convalesced sufficiently to render my departureadvisable, I started to bring my daughter home; but she ran away, a fewhours before my arrival, and while, hoping to rescue Ellice, I was inpursuit of the precious pair, my wife relapsed and died--the victim ofexcitement brought on by her child's disgrace. I came back here to adesolate, silent house;--bereft of wife and daughter; and in the graveof her mother, I buried every atom of love and tenderness I everentertained for Ellice. When the sun is suddenly blotted out at noon,and the world turns black--black, we grope to and fro aimlessly; butafter awhile, we accommodate ourselves to the darkness;--and so, Ibecame a different man--very hard, and I dare say very bitter. Theworld soon learned that I would tolerate no illusion to my disgrace,and people respected my family cancer, and prudently refrained fromoffering me nostrums to cure
it. My wife had a handsome estate of herown right, and every cent of her fortune I collected, and sent with herjewelry to Ellice. Did you know this?"
"I have heard only of the jewels."
"As I supposed, the money was squandered before you could recollect."
"I know that we were reduced to poverty, by the failure of some bankinghouse in Paris. I was old enough when it occurred, to remember everafterward, the dismay and distress it caused. My father no doubt placedmy mother's money there for safety."
"I wrote one long, final letter when I sent the checks for the money,and I told Ellice I wished never to see, never to hear from her again.I told her also, I had only one wish concerning her, and that was, thatI might be able to forget her so completely, that if we should meet inthe Last Judgment, I could not possibly know her. I assured her sheneed expect nothing at my death; as I had taken good care that myestate should not fall into the clutches of--her--'exiled scion of anoble house.' Now do you consider that she has any claim on me?"
"You must not ask me to sit in judgment on my parents."
"You shall decide a question of business facts. I provided liberallyfor her once; can you expect me to do so again? Has she any right todemand it?"
"Having defied your parental wishes, she may have forfeited adaughter's claim; but as a heart-broken sufferer, you cannot deny herthe melancholy privilege of praying for your help, on her death-bed."
The proud clear voice trembled, and Beryl covered her face with herhands.
"Then we will ignore outraged ties of blood, and treat on the ground ofmere humanity? Let me conclude, for it is sickening and loathsome to aman of my age, to see his long silent household graves yawn, and giveup uncalled--their sheeted dead. For some years the money sent, was aquietus, and I was left in peace. I was lonely; it was, hard work toforget, because I could never forgive; and the more desolate the grayruin, the more nature yearns to cover it close with vines and flowers;so after a time, I married a gentle, pure hearted woman, who made thebest of what was left of me. We had no children, but she had one son ofa former marriage, who proved a noble trustworthy boy; and by degreeshe crept into my heart, and raked together the cinders of my deadaffections, and kindled a feeble flame that warmed my shivering oldage. When I felt assured that I was not thawing another serpent tosting me for my pains, I adopted Thorton Prince, and with the aid of aLegislative enactment, changed his name to Prince Darrington. Only afew months elapsed, before his mother, of whom I was very fond, died ofconsumption and my boy and I comforted each other. Then I made mysecond and last will, and took every possible precaution to secure myestate of every description to him. He is my sole heir, and I intendthat at my death he shall receive every cent I possess. Did you knowthis?"
"I did, because your last endorsement on a letter of my mother'sreturned unopened to her, informed her of the fact."
"Why? Because in violation of my wishes she had persisted in writing,and soon began to importune me for money. Then I made her understandthat even at my death, she would receive no aid; and since thatendorsement, I have returned or destroyed her letters unread. My Willis so strong--has been drawn so carefully--that no contest can touchit; and it will stand forever between your mother and my property."
As he uttered these words, he elevated his voice, which had a ring ofsavage triumph in its harsh excited tones. Just then, a muffled soundattracted his attention, and seizing his gold-headed cane, he limpedwith evident pain to the threshold of the adjoining room.
"Bedney."
Receiving no reply, he closed the door with a violence that jarred thewhole room; and came slowly back to the table, where he stood leaningheavily on his stick.
"At least we will have no eavesdropping at this resurrection of mydead. That Ellice is now a miserable woman, I have no doubt; for truly:'Quien se casa por amores, ha de vivir con dolores.' Of course youunderstand Spanish?"
"No, sir; but no matter; I take it for granted that you intend somethrust at my mother, and I have heard quite enough."
"Don't know Spanish? Why I fancied your--your 'exiled scion of a noblehouse'--taught all the languages under the sun; including that used bythe serpent in beguiling Eve! Well, the wise old adage means: 'Whomarries for love, lives with sorrow.' Ellice made her choice, and sheshall abide by it; and you--being unluckily her daughter--will sharethe punishment. If 'fathers WILL eat sour grapes, the children's teethMUST be set on edge.' I repudiate all claims on my parental treasury,save such as I have given to my son Prince. To every other draft I ambankrupt; but merely as a gentleman, I will now for the last time,respond to the petition of a sick woman, whose child is so loyal as toarouse my compassion. Ellice has asked for one hundred dollars. Youshall have it. But first, tell me why she did not go to the hospital,and submit to the operation which she says will cure her?"
"Because I could not be with her there, and I will never be separatedfrom her. The aneurism has grown so alarmingly, that I becamedesperate, and having no one to aid us, I reluctantly obeyed mymother's requirement that I should come here. I could not summon mybrother, because I have no idea where a letter would reach him; andwith no friend--but the God of the friendless--I am before you. Thereis one thing I ought to tell you; I have terrible forebodings of theresult of the operation, from which the Doctor encourages her to hopeso much. She will not be able to take anesthetics, at least notchloroform, because she has a weak heart, and--"
"Yes--a very weak heart! It was never strong enough to hold her to herduty."
"If you could see her now, I think even your vindictive hatred would besufficiently gratified. So wasted, so broken!--and with such aceaseless craving for a kind word from you. One night last week painmade her restless, and I heard her sob. When I tried to relieve thesuffering, she cried bitterly: 'It is not my poor body alone--it is thegnawing hunger to see father once more. He loved me so fondly once andif I could crawl to his feet, and clasp his knees in my arms, I couldat least die in peace. I am starving for just one sight of him--onetouch.' My poor darling mother! My beautiful, bruised, broken flower."
Through the glittering mist of unshed tears, her eyes shone, likesilver lamps; and for a moment Gen'l Darrington covered his face withone hand.
"If you could realize how bitterly galling to my own pride and selfrespect is this appeal to a man who hates and spurns all whom I love, Ithink, sir, that even you would pity me so heartily, that your hardenedheart would melt into one last farewell message of forgiveness to yourunfortunate daughter. I would rather carry her one word of love thanall your fortune."
"No--I come of a flinty race. We never forgive insults; never condonewrongs; and expecting loyalty in our own blood, we cannot live longenough to pardon its treachery. Once, I made an idol of my beautiful,graceful, high-bred girl; but she stabbed my pride, dragged my namethrough the gutters, broke her doting mother's heart; and now, I tellyou, she is as dead to me as if she had lain twenty-three years in hergrave. I have only one message. Tell her she is reaping the tares herown hand sowed. I know her no more as child of mine, and my son fillsher place so completely, I do not even miss her. That is the best I cansay. No doubt I am hard, but at least I am honest; and I will not feignwhat I cannot feel."
He limped across the floor, to a recess on one side of the chimney,where a square vault with an iron door had been built into the wall.Leaning on his cane, he took from his pocket a bunch of keys, fittedone into the lock, and pushing the bolt, the door slid back into agroove, instead of opening on hinges. He lifted a black tin box fromthe depths of the vault, carried it to the table, sat down, and openedit. Near the top, were numerous papers tied into packages with redtape, and two large envelopes carefully sealed with dark-green wax. Inremoving the bundles, to find something beneath them, these envelopeswere laid on the table; and as one was either accidentally orintentionally turned, Beryl saw the endorsement written in bold blackletters, and heavily underscored in red ink: "Last Will and Testamentof Robert Luke Darrington." Untying a small chamois bag, the ownercounted out five twen
ty-dollar gold pieces, closed the bag, andreplaced it in the box.
"Hold out your hand. Your mother asked fur one hundred dollars. Here isthe exact amount. Henceforth, leave me in peace. I am an old man, and Iadvise you to 'let sleeping dogs lie.'"
If he had laid a red-hot iron on her palm, it would scarcely have beenmore scorching than the touch of his gold, and only the vision of a wanand woeful face in that far off cheerless attic room, restrained herimpulse to throw it at his feet.
An almost intolerable humiliation dyed her pale cheeks a deep purplishcrimson, and she proudly drew herself to her utmost height.
"Because I cannot now help myself, I accept the money--not as a gift,but as a loan for my mother's benefit; and so help me God! I will notowe it to you one moment longer than by hard labor I can earn andreturn it. Goodbye, Gen'l Darrington."
She turned toward the closed door leading to the library, but raisinghis cane, he held it out, to intercept her.
"Wait a moment. There is one thing more."
He took from the tin box an oblong package, wrapped in letter paper,yellowed by age, and carefully sealed with red wax. As he held it up,she read thereon: "My last folly." He tore off the paper, lifted an oldfashioned morocco case, and attempted to open it, but the catch wasobstinate, or rusty, and several ineffectual efforts were made, ere hesucceeded in moving the spring. The once white velvet cushion, haddarkened and turned very yellow, but time had robbed in no degree, thelustre of the magnificent sapphires coiled there; and the blue firesleaped out, as if rejoicing in the privilege of displaying theirsplendor. "This set of stones was intended as a gift to your mother,when she was graduated at boarding-school. The time fixed for the closeof the session was only one month later than the day on which sheeloped with that foreign fraud, who should never have been allowed inthe school. My wife had promised that if your mother won the honor ofvaledictorian, she should have the handsomest present ever worn at acommencement. These costly sapphires were my poor wife's choice. PoorHelena! how often she admired them!" His voice faltered, and he bit hisunder lip to still its quiver.
Was there some necromancy in the azure flames, that suddenly revealedthe beloved face of the wife of his youth, and the lovely vision oftheir only child? His eagle eyes were dim with tears, and his handshook; but, as if ashamed of the weakness, he closed the jewel casewith a snap, and held it out.
"Here--take them. I had intended to give them as a bridal present to myson's wife, when he marries to suit me--as he certainly will; butsomehow, such a disposal seems hard on my dear Helena's wishes, and forher sake, I don't feel quite easy about leaving them to Prince's bride.Your mother never saw them, never knew of their existence. They arevery valuable, and the amount they will bring must relieve all presentnecessities. Tell Ellice the sight of the case disturbs me, like athorn in the flesh, so I send them away, to rid myself of an annoyance.She must not thank me; they come from her--dead mother."
"A knowledge of their history would give her infinitely more pain thanthe proceeds of their sale could bring comfort. I would not stab heraching heart for twenty times the value of the jewels."
"Then sell them, or do as you like. It matters not what becomes ofthem, if I am spared in future all reminders of the past. Put them inyour pocket. What? The case is too large? Where is your trunk--yourbaggage?"
"I have none, except my basket and shawl."
She picked them up from the carpet near the library door, and droppedthe case into her basket.
"You are a brave, and a loyal woman, and you appear to deserve farbetter parents than fell to your lot. Before you go, let me offer you aglass of wine, and a biscuit."
"Thank you--no. I could not possibly accept it."
"Well, we shall never meet again. Good-bye. Shake hands."
"I will very gladly do so if you will only give me just one gentle,forgiving kind word to comfort mother."
He set his teeth, and shook his head.
"Good-bye, Gen'l Darrington. When you lie down to die, I hope God willbe more merciful to your poor soul, than you have shown yourself toyour suffering child."
He bowed profoundly.
Her hand was on the knob of the door, when he pointed to the westernveranda.
"You are going back to town? Then, if you please, be so good as to passout through that rear entrance, and close the glass door after you. Aside path leads to the lawn; and I prefer that you should not meet theservants, who pry and tattle."
When she stood on the veranda, and turned to close the wide archedglass door, whence the inside red silk curtain had been looped back,her last view of the gaunt, tall figure within, showed him leaning onhis stick, with the tin box held in his left hand, and the dyingsunlight shining on his silver hair and furrowed face.
Along the serpentine path which was bordered with masses of brilliantchrysanthemums, Beryl walked rapidly, feeling almost stifled by thepressure of contending emotions. Recollecting that these spice censersof Autumn were her mother's favorite flowers, she stooped and brokeseveral lovely clusters of orange and garnet color, hoping that alingering breath of perfume from the home of her girlhood, might affordat least a melancholy pleasure to the distant invalid.
Advancing into the elm avenue, she heard a voice calling, and lookingback, saw the old negro man, Bedney, waving his white apron and runningtoward her; but at that moment his steps were arrested by the sudden,loud and rapid ringing of a bell. He paused, listened, wavered; thenthrew up his hands, and hurried back to the house, whence issued theimpatient summons.
The sun had gone down in the green sea of far-off pine tops, but thewestern sky glowed like some vast altar of topaz, whereon zodiacalfires had kindled the rays of vivid rose, that sprang into the zenithand cooled their flush in the pale blue of the upper air. Under theelms, swift southern twilight was already filling the arches withpurple gloom, and when the heavy iron gate closed with a sullen clangbehind her, Beryl drew a long deep breath of relief. On the sultryatmosphere broke the gurgling andante music of the "branch," as iteddied among the nodding ferns, and darted under the bridge; and theweary, thirsty woman knelt on the mossy margin, dipped up the amberwater in her palms, drank, and bathed her burning face which stilltingled painfully.
Having learned from the station agent, who had already sold her areturn ticket, that the north bound railway train, by which she desiredto travel home, would not depart until 7.15, she was beguiled by thebrilliance of the sky into the belief that she had ample time, tocomply with her mother's farewell request. Mrs. Brentano had tied witha scrap of ribbon the bouquet of flowers, bought by her daughter on theafternoon of her journey south, and asked her to lay them on hermother's grave.
Anxious to accomplish this sacred mission Beryl took the faded blossomsfrom her basket, added a cluster of chrysanthemums, a frond of fernfrom the "branch" border, and hurried on to the cemetery. When shereached the entrance, the gate was locked, but unwilling to returnwithout having gratified her mother's wish, she climbed into aspreading cedar close by the low brick wall, and swung herself easilydown inside the enclosure.
Some time was lost in finding the Darrington lot, but at last she stoodbefore a tall iron railing, that bristled with lance-like points,between the dust, of her ancestors and herself. In one corner rose abeautiful monument, bearing on its front, in gilt letters, theinscription "Helena Tracy, wife of R. L. Darrington."
Thrusting her hand through a space in the railing, Beryl dropped hermother's withered Arkja tribute on the marble slab. Her dress wascaught by a sharp point of iron, and while endeavoring to disengage it,she heard the shrill whistle of the R. R. engine. Tearing the skirtaway, she ran to the wall, climbed over, after some delay, and findingherself once more in the open road, darted on as fast as possiblethrough the dusk, heedless of appearances, fearful only of missing thetrain. How the houses multiplied, and what interminable lengths thesquares seemed, as she neared the brick warehouse and office of thestation! The lamps at the street corners beckoned her on, and whenpanting for breath she rush
ed around the side of the tall building thatfronted the railway, there was no train in sight.
Two or three coal cars stood on a siding, near a detached engine, whereone man was lighting the lamp before the reflector of the headlight,and another, who whistled merrily, burnished the brass and copperplatings. In the door of the ticket office the agent lounged, puffedhis cigar, and fanned himself with his hat.
"What time is it?" cried Beryl.
"Seven-forty-five."
"Oh! do not tell me I have missed the train."
"You certainly have. I told you it left at 7:15 sharp. It was tenminutes behind time on account of hot boxes, but rolled out just twentyminutes ago. Did you get lost hunting 'Elm Bluff,' and miss your trainon that account?"
"No, I had no difficulty in finding the place, but having no watch, Iwas forced to guess at the time. Only twenty minutes too late!"
"Did you see the old war-horse?"
Beryl did not answer, and after a moment the agent added:
"That is Gen'l Darrington's nick-name all over this section."
"When will the next train leave here?"
"Not until 3:05 A.M."
Beryl sat down on the edge of a baggage truck, and pondered thesituation. She knew that her mother, who had carefully studied therailway schedule, was with feverish anxiety expecting her return by thetrain, now many miles away; and she feared that any unexplaineddetention would have an injurious effect on the sick woman's shatterednerves.
Although she could ill afford the expense, she resolved to allay allapprehension, by the costly sedative of a telegram.
Only a wall separated the ticket office from that of the "telegraph,"and approaching the operator, Beryl asked for a blank form, on whichshe wrote her mother's address, and the following message:
"Complete success required delay. All will be satisfactory. Expect meSaturday. B. B."
When she had paid the operator, there remained in her purse, exclusiveof the gold coins received that afternoon, only thirty-eight cents.Where could she spend the next seven hours? Interpreting the perplexedexpression of her face, the agent, who had curiously noted hermovements, said courteously:
"There is a hotel a few blocks off, where you can rest until traintime."
"I prefer to remain here."
"We generally lock up this office about half-past eight, and re-open athalf-past two, which gives passengers ample accommodation for the 3:05train."
"Would you violate regulations by leaving the waiting-room opento-night?"
"Not exactly; as of course we are obliged to keep open for delayedtrains; but it will be lonesome waiting, for no one stays here, exceptthe Night Train Despatcher, and the switch watchman. Still if it willoblige you, miss, I will not lock up, and you can doze away the time byspreading your shawl on two chairs. I am going to supper now, and shallturn down the lights. One burner will be sufficient."
"Thank you very much. Where can I find some water?"
"In the cooler in the ladies' dressing-room. It is most unaccountablyhot tonight, and I never knew anything like it in October. There mustbe a cyclone brewing somewhere not far off."
He lifted his hat, as he passed her, and disappeared; and the tiredgirl seated herself near a window and stirred the dense, impure air byfanning herself with her straw hat. Gradually the few stragglersloitering about the station wandered away; the engineer stepped uponthe locomotive; a piercing whistle broke suddenly on the silencesettling down over the whilom busy precincts, and as the rhythmicmeasure of the engine bell rang farewell chimes, a pyramid of sparksleaped high, and the mighty mechanism fled down the track, hunting itsown echoes. The man in charge of the express office came out, looked upand down the street; yawned, lighted his pipe, and after locking theoffice, wended his way homeward.
From the adjoining room came the slow monotonous clicking of thetelegraph wires, as messages passed to other stations, and only theswitch watchman was visible, sitting on an inverted tub, and playingsnatches from "Mascotte" and "Olivette" upon a harmonicon.
Heat seemed radiating from the brick pavement outside, from the innerwalls of the waiting-room; and Beryl, finding the atmosphere almoststifling, went out under the stars. Up and down she paced, until wearyof the dusty thoroughfare, she turned into the street which, earlier inthe day, had conducted her toward the suburbs. She knew that a fullmoon had climbed above the horizon, and some malign Morgana lured heron, with visions of cool pine glades paved with silver mosaics, andbalmy with breath of balsam; where through vast forest naves echoed themelodious monody chanted by the reddish gold wavelets of the "branch."In the eastern sky the florid face of a hunter's moon looked down, fromthe level line of a leaden cloud, which striped the star emblazonedshield of night, like a bar sinister; and the white lustre of her rayswas dimmed to a lurid dulness solemn and presageful.
As Beryl crossed the common near the station, and entered the pillaredaisles of the pines, the air was less oppressive, but a dun haze seemedon every side to curtain the horizon, and the stars looked bleared andtired in the breathless vault above her. A man driving two cows towardtown, stared at her; then a wagon drawn by four horses rattled along,bearing homeward a gay picnic party of young people, who made the woodsring with the echoes of "Hold the Fort." The grandeur of toweringpines, the mysterious dimness of illimitable arcades, and the peculiarresinous odor that stole like lingering ghosts of myrrh, frankincenseand onycha through the vaulted solitude of a deserted hoary sanctuary,all these phases of primeval Southern forests combined to weave a spellthat the stranger could not resist.
After a while, fearful of straying too far, the weary woman threw hershawl on the brown straw, and sat down quite near the road. She leanedher bare head against the trunk of a pine, listened to the katydidsgossiping in a distant oak that shaded the "branch," to the quaveringstrident song of a locust; and she intended, after resting for a fewmoments, to return to the station-house; but unexpected drowsinessoverpowered her. Suddenly aroused from a sound sleep, she heard theclatter of galloping hoofs, and as she sprang up, the horse, startledby her movement, shied and reared within a few feet of the spot whereshe stood. The moon shone full on the glossy black animal, and upon hispowerful rider, and Beryl recognized the massive head, swarthy face andkeen eyes of the attorney, Lennox Dunbar. He leaned forward and said,as he patted the erect ears of his horse:
"Madam, you seem a stranger. Have you lost your way?"
"No, sir."
"Pardon me; but having seen you this afternoon at 'Elm Bluff,' Ithought it possible you had missed the road."
Standing so straight and tall, with the sheen of the moon on herfaultless features, he thought she looked the incarnation of someprescient Norn, fit for the well of Urda.
She made no reply; and he touched his hat, and rode rapidly away in thedirection of the town, carrying an indelible impression of themysterious picture under the pines.
The sky had changed; the face of the moon had cleared, but tatters andscuds of smoke-colored cloud fled northward, as if scourged by a stormycurrent too high to stir the sultry stagnation of the lower atmosphericstratum. From its vaporous lair somewhere in the cypress and palmjungles of the Mexican Gulf borders, the tempest had risen, and beforeits breath the shreds of cloud flew like avant couriers of disaster.Already the lurid glare of incessant sheet lightning fought with themoon for supremacy, and from a leaden wall along the southeastern sky,came the long reverberating growl of thunder, that told where theelectric batteries had opened fire. A vague foreboding, which forseveral days had haunted Beryl's mind, now pressed so heavily upon her,that she hurried back to the station, which was near the edge of thetown; and more than once she started nervously at sight of grotesqueshadows cast by the trees across the sandy road.
The streets were deserted, and lights gleamed only in upper windows ofapartments, where sick sufferers tossed, or tender mothers sang softlullabys to restless babies crooning in their cribs. Now and then asudden gust of wind shook the yellow berries from the china trees, thatbordered
the pavements, and very soon the moonshine faded, then flashedfitfully, and finally vanished, as the blackening cloud swept over theface of earth and sky. The watchman dozed on his post of observation; aporter slept on a baggage truck under the awning, and as Beryl peepedinto the telegraph office, she heard the snoring of the operator, whosehead rested upon the table close to the silent instrument. She listenedto the ticking of a clock in the ticket office, but could not see itsface; wondered how late it was, and how long she had been absent.Feeling very lonely and restless she closed the door, and sat down inthe deserted waiting-room, glad of the companionship of atortoise-shell cat which was curled up on a chair next her own.
Gradually the storm approached, and she thought that an hour hadelapsed, when the dust-tainted smell of rain came with the rush of coldair. There was no steady gale, but the tempest broke in franticspasmodic gusts, as though it had lost its reckoning, andsimultaneously assaulted all the points of the compass; while thelightning glared almost continuously, and the roar of the thunder wasuninterrupted. Now and then a vivid zig-zag flash gored the intensedarkness with its baleful blue death-light, followed by a crash,appalling as if the battlements of heaven had been shattered. Once thewhole air seemed ablaze, and the simultaneous shock of the detonationwas so violent, that Beryl involuntarily sank on her knees, and hid hereyes on a chair. The rain fell in torrents, that added a solemn sullenswell to the diapason of the thunder fugue, and by degrees a deliciouscoolness crept into the cisterns of the night.
When the cloud had wept away its fury, and electric fires burned low inthe far west, a gentle shower droned on the roof, and lulled by itscadence Beryl fell asleep, still kneeling on the floor, with her headresting on the chair where the cat lay coiled.
In dreams, she wandered with her father and brother upon a Tuscanhillside draped with purple fruited grape vines, and Bertie wascrushing a luscious cluster against her thirsty lips, when some noisestartled her. Wide awake, she sprang to her feet, and listened.
"There ain't no train till daylight, 'cepting it be the throughfreight."
"When is that due?"
"Pretty soon; it's mighty nigh time now, but it don't stop here; itgoes on to the water tank, whar it blows for the railroad bridge."
"How far is the bridge?"
"Only a short piece down the track, after you pass the tank."
Beryl had rushed to the window, and looked out, but no one was visible.She could scarcely mistake that peculiar voice, and was so assured ofits identity, that she ran out under the awning and looked up and downthe platform in front of the station buildings. The rain had ceased,but drops still pattered from the tin roof, and a few stars peeped overthe ragged ravelled edge of slowly drifting clouds. By the light of agas lamp, she saw an old negro man limping away, who held a stick overhis shoulder, on which was slung a bundle wrapped in a redhandkerchief; and while she stood watching, he vanished in some cul desac. With her basket in her hand, and her shawl on her arm, she speddown the track, looking to right and left.
"Bertie! Bertie!"
Once she fancied she discerned a form flying ahead of her, leaping fromcross tie to cross tie to avoid the water, but when she calledvehemently, only the sound of her own voice broke the silence.
Was it merely an illusion born of her vivid dream of her brother; andwhile scarcely awake, had she confounded the tones of a stranger, withthose so long familiar? She could not shake off the conviction thatBertie had really spoken only a few yards from her, and while she stoodirresolute, puzzling over the problem, the through freight train dashedby the station and left a trail of sparks and cinders. To avoid it shesprang on a pile of cross ties beside the track, and when the fieryserpent wound out of sight, she reluctantly retraced her steps. Howlong the night seemed! Would day never dawn again? She heard thetelegraph operator whistling at his work, and as she re-entered thewaiting-room, she saw the ticket agent standing in his office.
"What time is it?"
"Half-past two o'clock. I might as well have locked up as usual, forafter all, you did not stay here."
"Yes I did."
He eyed her suspiciously.
"I came back from supper, and brought a pitcher of cold tea, thinkingyou might relish it, but you were not here. I waited nearly an hour;then I went home."
"It was so hot, I walked about outside. What a frightful storm."
"Yes, perfectly awful. Were you exposed to the worst of it?"
"No, I was here."
He shook his head, smiled, and went into the next room, knowing thatwhen he returned to unlock his office she was not in the building, andthat he had seen her coming up the railway track. The bustle ofpreparation soon began; the baggage wagons thundered up to theplatform, porters called to one another; passengers collected in thewaiting-room, carriages and omnibuses dashed about; then at 2:50 thelong train of north bound cars swept in. With her shawl and basket inone hand, and the odorous bunches of chrysanthemums clasped in theother, Beryl stepped upon the platform. She found a seat at an openwindow, and made herself comfortable; placing her feet upon the basketwhich contained the jewels that constituted her sole earthly fortune.The bell rang, the train glided on, and as it passed the office door,she saw the agent watching her, with a strangely suspicious expression.
The cars wound around a curve, and she sank back and shut her eyes,rejoicing in the belief that her mission to "Elm Bluff," and its keenhumiliation, were forever ended.
At the Mercy of Tiberius Page 3
