The Highgrader

by William MacLeod Raine

  CHAPTER XVI

  ONE MAID--TWO MEN

  Jack saw to it that he and Joyce followed the others down the trail at avery leisurely pace. The early night of the Rockies was already cuttingthem off from the rest of the world. Captain Kilmeny and his betrothedcould be seen as shadows growing every minute more tenuous. India andher escort were already lost in the descending darkness.

  It was the first time that the Goldbanks miner had ever been alone withMiss Seldon. He meant to make the most of his chance. Her lovelinesssang its way through his alert, masterful eyes into the blood of theman. Where else under heaven could a woman be found with such a glory ofamber extravagance for hair, with such exquisitely turned scarlet lipsin so fine-textured colorless a skin of satin? She moved with thelightness of perfect health, the long, graceful lines of her limbsbreaking into new curves at every step. Sinuous and supple, she wasexquisitely feminine to the finger tips.

  They talked little, and that irrelevantly. In both of them the tide ofemotion ran full. Each was drawn by the subtle irresistible magnet ofsex attraction. When their eyes met it was but for an instant. Ashyness, delirious and delightful, ran like a golden thread through theexcitement which burned their blood.

  "We ... must hurry." Joyce breathed deep, as if she had been running.

  "Why must we?" he demanded. "This is my hour. I claim it."

  "But ... they're getting ahead of us."

  "Let them." He gave her his hand to help her down a steep place in thetrail. Their fingers laced, palm clinging to palm.

  "You ... mustn't," she protested.

  "Mustn't I?"

  "No-o."

  The note of faintness was in her voice. Courage flooded him intriumphant waves. A moment and his arms were about her, the velvet ofher cheek against his. She lay still for an instant, pulses throbbingwildly. But when his lips found hers the woman in her awoke. In anecstasy of tenderness her arms crept around his neck, and she clung tohim. A distant sea surf roared in her ears. For the first time in herlife passion had drowned coquetry.

  They spoke in kisses, in caresses, in little murmured nothings, aslovers will till the end of time. Something sweet and turbulent swelledin her bosom, an emotion new and inexplicable. For the first time inmany experiences of the sex duel she was afraid of herself, of thestrength of this impassioned feeling that was sweeping her. Shedisengaged herself from his embrace and stood back.

  Beneath the quick probe of his eyes a faint tremor passed through herbody. The long lashes fell to the hot cheeks and curtained lambentwindows of light.

  "What are we doing?" she cried softly.

  "Doing? I'm making love to you, sweetheart, and you're telling me youlove me for it," he answered, capturing her hands.

  "Yes, but ... I don't want you to ... make love to me ... that way."

  "You do." He laughed aloud, and with a swift motion drew her to himagain. "We belong, you witch."

  His ardent kisses smothered her and drew the color into her lovely face.She yearned toward him, faint with a sweet, exquisite longing. Was thislove then? Had it at last trapped her in spite of her cool wariness? Shedid not know. All she was sure of was that she wanted to be in hisstrong arms and to feel forever this champagne leap of the blood.

  * * * * *

  With the excuse that she must dress for dinner, Joyce went at once toher room and locked the door. Discarding the walking suit she waswearing, she slipped into a negligee gown and seated herself before theglass. She liked, while thinking things over, to look at herself in themirror. The picture that she saw always evoked pleasant fugitivememories. It was so now. Never had her beauty seemed so radiant andvital, so much an inspiration of the spirit in her. Joyce could havekissed the parted scarlet lips and the glowing pansy eyes reflected backto her. It was good to be young and lovely, to know that men's heartsleaped because of her, especially that of the untamed desert son who hadmade love to her so masterfully.

  How had he dared? She was a rare imperious queen of hearts. No manbefore had ever ravished kisses from her in such turbulent fashion. Whenshe thought of the abandon with which she had given herself to his lipsand his embrace, the dye deepened on her cheeks. What was this shamelesslonging that had carried her to him as one looking down from a hightower is drawn to throw himself over the edge? He had trampled underfoot the defenses that had availed against many who had a hundred timeshis advantages to offer.

  It was of herself, not him, that she was afraid. She had _wanted_ hiskisses. She had rejoiced in that queer, exultant stir of the blood whenhis eyes stabbed fathoms deep into hers. What was the matter with her?Always she had felt a good-natured contempt for girls who threw awaysubstantial advantages for what they called love. After steering acourse as steady as a mariner's compass for years was she going to playthe fool at last? Was she going to marry a pauper, a workingman, oneaccused of crime, merely because of the ridiculous emotion he excited inher?

  The idea was of course absurd. The most obvious point of the situationto her was that she dared not marry him. In her sober senses she wouldnot want to do such a ruinous thing. Already she was beginning to escapefrom the thrill of his physical presence. He had taken the future forgranted, and during that mad quarter of an hour she had let him. Carriedaway by his impetuosity and her own desire, she had consented to hispreposterous hopes. But of a certainty the idea was absurd. Joyce Seldonwas the last woman in the world to make a poor man's wife.

  To-morrow she must have a serious talk with him and set the matter on aproper footing. She must not let herself be swept away by any quixoticsentiment. The trouble was that she liked him so well. When they met,her good resolutions would be likely to melt in the air. She wouldsafeguard herself from her weakness by telling him during a ride thathad been planned. With her friends a few yards in front of them therecould be no danger of yielding to her febrile foolishness.

  Or perhaps it would be better to wait. It was now only ten days till thetime set for leaving. She might write him her decision. It would besweet to hold him as long as she could....

  A knock at the door aroused her from revery. She let Fisher in and madepreparations to have her hair dressed. This was always one of theimportant duties of the day. India and Moya might scamp such things onthe plea that they were thousands of miles from civilization, but Joyceknew what was due her lovely body and saw that the service was paidrigorously. She chose to wear to-night a black gown that set offwonderfully the soft beauty of her face and the grace of her figure.Jack Kilmeny was to be there later for bridge, and before he came shehad to dazzle and placate Verinder, who had been for several days verysulky at having to play second fiddle.

  When Joyce sailed down the corridor to the parlor which adjoined theprivate dining-room of the party, she caught a glimpse of Verinderturning a corner of the passage toward his room. Lady Farquhar was alonein the parlor.

  "Didn't I see Mr. Verinder going out?" asked Joyce, sinking indolentlyinto the easiest chair and reaching for a magazine.

  "Yes. At least he was here." After a moment Lady Farquhar addedquietly, "He leaves to-morrow."

  Joyce looked up quickly. "Leaves where?"

  "Goldbanks. He is starting for London."

  "But.... What about the reorganization of the companies? I thought...."

  "He has changed his plans. James is to have his proxies and to arrangethe consolidation. Mr. Verinder is anxious to get away at once."

  After an instant's consideration Joyce laughed scornfully. She wasdismayed by this sudden move, but did not intend to show it. "Isn't thisrather ... precipitous? We're all going in a few days. Why can't hewait?"

  Her chaperone looked at Joyce as she answered. "Urgent business, hesays."

  "Urgent fiddlesticks!" Joyce stifled a manufactured yawn. "I dare say webore him as much as he does us. Wish we were all back in grimy oldLondon."

  "It won't be long now." Lady Jim answered with a smile at the othersuggestion. "No, I don't think business calls him, and I don't think heis
bored."

  Joyce understood the significance of the retort. Verinder at last hadrevolted against being played with fast and loose. He was going becauseof her violent flirtation with Jack Kilmeny. This was his declaration ofindependence.

  Miss Seldon was alarmed. She had not for a minute intended to let themillionaire escape. The very possibility of it frightened her. It hadnot occurred to her that the little man had spirit enough to resent hercourse so effectively. With the prospect of losing it in sight, hisgreat wealth loomed up to dwarf the desire of the hour. She blamedherself because in the excitement of her affair with Kilmeny she had forthe first time in her life let herself forget real values.

  But Joyce was too cool a hand to waste time in repining so long as therewas a chance to repair the damage. Was the lost prize beyond recovery?Two points were in her favor. Verinder had not yet gone, and he was verymuch infatuated with her. No doubt his vanity was in arms. He would beshy of any advances. His intention was to beat a retreat in sulkydignity, and he would not respond to any of the signals which in thepast had always brought him to heel. It all rested on the fortuity ofher getting five minutes alone with him. Granted this, she would have achance. There are ways given to women whereby men of his type can beplacated. She would have to flatter him by abasing herself, by throwingherself upon his mercy. But since this must be done, she was prepared topay the price.

  It appeared that Dobyans Verinder did not intend to give her anopportunity. From the soup to the walnuts the topic of conversation hadto do with the impending departure of the mine owner. Joyce was preparedto be very kind to him, but he did not for an instant let his eyes dwellin hers. Behind the curtain of her dark silken lashes she was alertlyconscious of the man without appearing to be so. He meant to snub her,to leave without seeing her alone. That was to be her punishment forhaving cut too deep into his self-esteem. He was going to jilt her.

  During dinner and during that subsequent half hour while the ladieswaited for the men to rejoin them, Joyce was in a tremor of anxiety. Butshe carried herself with an indifference that was superb. She had takena chair at the far end of the long parlor close to a French windowopening upon a porch. Apparently she was idly interested in a new novel,but never had she been more watchful. If she had a chance to play herhand she would win; if the luck broke against her she would lose.

  Most of her friends had mothers to maneuver for them. Joyce had none,but she was not one to let that stand in her way. Already she had madeher first move by asking Lord Farquhar in a whisper not to linger longover the cigars. He had nodded silently, and she knew he would keep hisword. If Jack would only stay away until she could see Verinder....

  She called the mine owner to her the instant that the men reappeared. Helooked across the room sullenly and appeared for one dubious moment tohesitate. But before he could frame an excuse she had spoken again.

  "I want you to see this ridiculous illustration. It is the mostamusing...."

  Without any hesitation she had summoned him before them all. He couldnot rudely refuse her the ordinary civilities that pass current insociety. Sulkily he moved to her side.

  She held up the book to him. No illustration met the eyes of thesurprised man. Joyce was pointing to a sentence in the story heavilyunderscored by a pencil.

  "_Why are you so cruel to me?_"

  His chin dropped with amazement. Then slowly an angry flush rose to hisface. His jaw set firmly as he looked at her.

  "Yes, it's certainly ridiculous ... and amusing," he said aloud.

  "There's another, too," she went on quickly, recovering the book.

  Her fingers turned a page or two swiftly. On the margin was a pencilednote.

  "I must see you alone, Dobyans. I must."

  She lifted to him a face flushed and eager, from which wounded eyesfilmy with tears appealed to him. Her shyness, her diffidence, thechildlike call upon his chivalry were wholly charming. She was adistractingly pretty woman, and she had thrown herself upon his mercy.Verinder began insensibly to soften, but he would not give up hisgrievance.

  "It's amusing, too--and unnecessary, I think," he said.

  The long lashes fluttered tremulously to her cheeks. It seemed to himthat she was on the verge of unconsciousness, that the pent emotion wasgoing to prove too much for her.

  "I--I think the story calls for it," she answered, a little brokenly.

  He retorted, still carrying on the conversation that was to mean onething to the others in case they heard and another to them. "Depends onthe point of view, I suppose. The story is plain enough--doesn't needany more to carry its meaning."

  He was standing between her and the rest of the party. Joyce laid anappealing hand on his coat sleeve. Tears brimmed over from the softeyes. She bit her lip and turned her head away. If ever a womanconfessed love without words Joyce was doing it now. Verinder'sinflammable heart began to quicken.

  "Where?" he asked grudgingly, lowering his voice.

  A glow of triumphant relief swept through her. She had won. But the verynearness of her defeat tempered pride to an emotion still related togratitude. The warm eyes that met his were alive with thanks. She movedher head slightly toward the window.

  In another moment they stood outside, alone in the darkness. The nightwas chill and she shivered at the change from the warm room. Verinderstepped back into the parlor, stripped from the piano the small Navajorug that draped it, and rejoined Joyce on the porch. He wrapped it abouther shoulders.

  She nodded thanks and led him to the end of the porch. For a few momentsshe leaned on the railing and watched the street lights. Then, abruptly,she shot her question at him.

  "Why are you going away?"

  Stiff as a poker, he made answer. "Business in London, Miss Seldon.Sorry to leave and all that, but----"

  She cut him off sharply. "I want the truth. What have I done that youshould ... treat me so?"

  Anger stirred in him again. "Did I say you had done anything?"

  "But you think I'm to blame. You know you do."

  "Do I?" His vanity and suspicion made him wary, though he knew she wastrying to win him back. He told himself that he had been made a fool oflong enough.

  "Yes, you do ... and it's all your fault." She broke down and turnedhalf from him. Deep sobs began to rack her body.

  "I'd like to know how it's my fault," he demanded resentfully. "Am I toblame because you broke your engagement to walk with me and went withthat thief Kilmeny?"

  "Yes." The word fell from her lips so low that he almost doubted hisears.

  "What? By Jove, that's rich!"

  Her luminous eyes fell full into his, then dropped. "If ... if you can'tsee----"

  "See what? I see you threw me overboard for him. I see you've beenflirting a mile a minute with the beggar and playing fast and loose withme. I'm hanged if I stand it."

  "Oh, Dobyans! Don't you see? I ... I ... You made me."

  "Made you?"

  She was standing in profile toward him. He could see the quiver of herlip and the shadows beneath her eyes. Already he felt the lift of thebig wave that was to float him to success.

  "I ... have no mother."

  "Don't take the point."

  She spoke as a troubled child, as if to the breezes of the night. "Ihave to be careful. You know how people talk. Could I let them say thatI ... ran after you?" The last words were almost in a whisper.

  "Do you mean...?"

  "Oh, couldn't you see? How blind men are!"

  The little man, moved to his soul because this proud beauty was sodeeply in love with him, took her in his arms and kissed her.

  A little shudder went through her blood. It had not been two hours sinceJack Kilmeny's kisses had sent a song electrically into her veins. Butshe trod down the momentary nausea with the resolute will that hadalways been hers. Verinder had paid for the right to caress her. He hadoffered his millions for the privilege. She too must pay the price forwhat she received.

  "We must go in," she told him presently. "They will wond
er."

  "They won't wonder long, by Jove," he replied, a surge of triumph in hisvoice.

  Joyce looked at him quickly. "You're not going to tell them to-night?"

  He nodded. "To-night, my beauty."

  "Oh, no. Please not to-night. Let's ... keep it to ourselves for a fewdays, dear." The last word was a trifle belated, but that might bebecause she was not used to it.

  Verinder shot a look of quick suspicion at her. "I'm going to tell themto-night--as soon as we get back into the room."

  "But ... surely it's for me to say that, Dobyans. I want to keep ourlittle secret for awhile." She caught with her hands the lapels of hisdinner jacket and looked pleadingly at him.

  "No--to-night." He had a good deal of the obstinacy characteristic ofmany stupid men, but this decision was based on shrewd sense. He heldthe upper hand. So long as they were in the neighborhood of Jack Kilmenyhe intended to keep it.

  "Even though I want to wait?"

  "Why do you want to wait?" he demanded sullenly. "Because of that fellowKilmeny?"

  She knew that she had gone as far as she dared. "How absurd. Of coursenot. Tell them if you like, but--it's the first favor I've asked of yousince----"

  Her voice faltered and broke. It held a note of exquisite pathos.Verinder felt like a brute, but he did not intend to give way.

  "You haven't any real reason, Joyce."

  "Isn't it a reason that ... I want to keep our engagement just toourselves for a few days? It's our secret--yours and mine--and I don'twant everybody staring at us just yet, Dobyans. Don't you understand?"

  "Different here," he answered jauntily. "I want to shout it from thehouse-top." He interrupted himself to caress her again and to kiss thelittle pink ear that alone was within reach. "I'll make it up to you ahundred times, but I'm jolly well set on telling them to-night, dear."

  She gave up with a shrug, not because she wanted to yield but becauseshe must. Her face was turned away from him, so that he did not see thesteely look in her eyes and the hard set of the mouth. She was thinkingof Jack Kilmeny. What would he say or do when he was told? Surely hewould protect her. He would not give her away. If he were a gentleman,he couldn't betray a woman. But how far would the code of her worldgovern him? He was primeval man. Would the savagery in him break bounds?

  Within five minutes she found out. Jack Kilmeny, in evening dress, wasjesting in animated talk with India when the engaged couple reenteredthe room. He turned, the smile still on his face, to greet Joyce as shecame forward beside Verinder. The little man was strutting pompouslytoward Lady Farquhar, the arm of the young woman tucked under his.

  The eyes of Joyce went straight to Kilmeny in appeal for charity. Inthem he read both fear and shame, as well as a hint of defiantjustification.

  Even before the mine owner spoke everybody in the room knew what hadhappened on the veranda.

  "Congratulate me, Lady Farquhar. Miss Seldon has promised to be mywife," Verinder sang out chirpily.

  There was a chorus of ejaculations, of excited voices. Joyce disappearedinto the arms of her friends, while Farquhar and Captain Kilmeny shookhands with the beaming millionaire and congratulated him. Jack's handswere filled with sheet music, but he nodded across to his successfulrival.

  "You're a lucky man to have won so true a heart, Mr. Verinder," he saidcomposedly.

  Joyce heard the words and caught the hidden irony. Her heart was in herthroat. Did he mean to tell more?

  Presently it came his turn to wish her joy. Jack looked straight at her.There was a hard smile on his sardonic face.

  "I believe the right man has won you, Miss Seldon. All marriages aren'tmade in Heaven, but---- I've been hoping Mr. Verinder would lose outbecause he wasn't good enough for you. But I've changed my mind. He'sjust the man for you. Hope you'll always love him as much as you donow."

  Joyce felt the color beat into her cheeks. She knew now that Kilmeny wasnot going to betray her, but she knew too that he understood anddespised her.