"That is most thoughtful," the old gentleman murmured. "But, Brent, that d.a.m.ned half-wit will take savage delight in spreading his story--" the Colonel gritted his teeth and could not finish.
"I hardly think so," Brent rea.s.sured him. "It just happens that I"ve placed him in a most superst.i.tious dread of me--through a little encounter we had because of an attempt Tom Hewlet made to blackmail me.
Though I mention this in confidence, sir."
"Blackmail! Why, Brent, what does this mean? I feel as though I were dreaming!" But a deeper anxiety came into his eyes as he recalled some whisperings of two months back.
"Don"t let it worry you. It has been cooked by proper threats of the penitentiary--" He stopped short, becoming for the first time aware of Aunt Timmie"s presence as she was taking up the goblets with more than necessary deliberation. When she left, he added: "Anyway, what I started out to say is, Tusk will keep his mouth shut forever after I get hold of him. I looked for him in town, and at his half finished cabin, but he wasn"t around. So I"ll try again today."
"Do you really think you can stop this?" the Colonel leaned hopefully forward.
"I know it, unless Tom has successfully disillusioned his mind about my being a devil."
"A matter which would doubtless require more eloquence than Tom possesses," the old gentleman"s eyes twinkled: but he added in the former serious voice: "If you can"t, sir, I--I shall have his life! I will, sir!--by G.o.d, sir. I will!"
Dale had come quietly to the French window. At his place in the library, where he had been poring over books, the conversation could have been heard, but none of it drew his attention until the Colonel"s first outburst of rage. He stood now, looking calmly down at the old gentleman"s flushed face, then stepped out and approached them.
"You won"t have to do that," he said. "I killed "im this mornin"."
A deadly, sickening hush came over his listeners, and gradually through it the rythmic strokes of a galloping horse fell upon their ears. Brent turned and saw Jane. In a dry voice he said:
"The h.e.l.l you did."
For once the adaptable engineer seemed helpless to rise to the situation. It was the Colonel who pulled himself together, saying hurriedly:
"Here"s Jane! Go out, Brent, and entertain her! I"ll take Dale indoors and see what this means!"
"I haven"t time," the mountaineer irritably replied. "I"m readin", and can"t stop!"
"I"ll bet you a cooky you can stop, sir," the old Colonel snapped. "You come and talk to me! Hurry, Brent!"
Entering the French window to the library he turned nervously to Dale.
"Now, what does this mean?"
"Brent told you," the mountaineer answered. "He told you how the varmint yelled, an" what he said. This mornin" I went "foh sun an" laid out near his cabin. That"s all."
The reproach in the Colonel"s eyes fell upon Dale like a lash, and he angrily continued:
"You said you"d do it, didn"t you? If I hadn"t--or somebody hadn"t--he"d kept on shoutin" those things, an" maybe worse, till she wouldn"t have opened school next yeah! Would she? Then what would I do? I tell you, Tusk had to be kilt!"
"I was merely angry, and talking, sir," the Colonel protested, with not the same regard for truth he had formerly boasted.
"An" I was angry an" not talkin"," Dale sullenly retorted.
The silence that followed was broken by the old gentleman"s brief question:
"Dead?"
"I reckon. He went down."
"We must go and see. Come!"
"I ain"t got time to fool with "im," the mountaineer looked restlessly at the open book and then back at his interrogator. "I"ve got to study.
You go, if you think you"d ought, an" take some n.i.g.g.e.rs."
The Colonel shuddered: "By G.o.d, but you"re a cold one!" then hastily went out to consult the faithful Zack. But the mountaineer reseated himself at the long mahogany table, and plunged furiously into the maze of erudition.
CHAPTER XXI
A VOICE AND A TAPER FLAME
Brent, who for some days had not been gracious to the sight of Jane, went out to meet her in a state of mind so dazed that it bordered on the humorous. At heart most things were jests with this devil-may-care young man (it may have been a trait cultivated through sheer necessity) and whether Dale killed or were killed might some weeks ago have pa.s.sed into his continuous performance of human comedies and tragedies. But there was a new element about this which shocked him to the foundation of his nature, and the revulsion became more acute as he looked up into her face smiling politely down at him.
He had watched her interest in Dale, and now guessed her depth of disappointment when she were told how the mountaineer"s career had gone dashing into the black wall of ruin. But he had watched with a twinge of jealousy which, as jealousy has the knack of doing, exaggerated both the extent and kind of interest she may have felt.
Many opportunities had come to Brent, and it was not all his fault that most of them had been neglected. His capacity for achievement was as an arm perpetually carried in a sling; no one"s fingers had untied the knot and ma.s.saged the cramped muscles, nor had anyone"s lips bidden him strike the right sort of blow. His mother breathed his name when a trained nurse had laid him down beside her on the bed; and that was the only time he might have heard her voice. His father was a man so threaded in the loom of finance that the rearing of a baby boy seemed wasted energy for one of his activities. The governess whom he employed to a.s.sume this duty came with recommendations; that was all--came with recommendations. And the boy"s days were without intelligent direction of any kind.
The only trait in his character which this governess strongly developed, was a desire to hide from every one his deepest and best impulses. Since one day, when his four-year-old arms had clasped a homeless puppy hurt by a pa.s.sing wagon, and she had poked her finger and laughed at his tears in order to keep his clothes from becoming worse soiled, his generous side shrank back into itself and froze. Then he began to clasp this newly bruised thing--a little boy"s wounded n.o.bility; so jealously guarding it from the cruelty of other laughs, from other curled lips and fingers of scorn, that few might have suspected it lived in him at all.
Later in life there appeared an object he might have cherished--the girl of whom he had told Jane; but this did not leave the regret he tried to make himself believe. He had never been able to rise above a lingering disappointment because her fingers made no effort to untie the knot;--rather, had she drawn it tighter by applauding those things which inherently he realized needed rebuking. For in his soul lived a voice comparing her to an ideal known only to his dreams--a being, somewhere, who would tear off the sling with brave and loving hands, and not be content to see him drift. His closely guarded better nature was persistently pleading with him to face about, while her pouting lips imperiously demanded his mornings and afternoons for her entertainment.
Then, very softly, a consciousness began to dawn upon this little romance, showing its glitter to be the veriest tinsel; and, so it was, in a make-believe fervor of self-righteousness, he pressed the pseudo crown of martyrdom upon his brow and "stepped aside."
If the truth were known, his soul had many times craved self-sacrifice--a hunger from which true men and women do not long escape. So he hugged the imitation, knowing it to be an imitation, but pretending it was real; before this false altar he "stepped aside,"
crying within himself that he had done a n.o.ble act, and knowing it was counterfeit. The knowledge, not the sacrifice, was bitter; nevertheless, this false altar sweetly fed his innate hunger--and, to keep the false in an att.i.tude of real, he dreamed more, drank more. In the three years which had pa.s.sed since then he retained only the love of drifting.
As he now looked seriously up into Jane"s face he was swept by one thought: tragedy, cruelty, disappointment were ent.i.tled to no place in the atmosphere of her dwelling. With a pang he realized that Dale was bringing them all to her. With a bound, something that was very far from being false, awoke in his heart, whispering how she might be spared. Then he perceived her still smiling down at him.
"Dreaming?" she asked.
"Fascinated," he murmured.
Without a.s.sistance she slipped from the saddle, exclaiming:
"My, but it"s a lovely day!"
"Isn"t it! Oh, you can"t interrupt the Colonel and Dale just now," he warned, seeing her intention. "They"re hard at it. Come with me while I tie your horse, and then let"s go to your charmed circle and talk. Have you forgiven my--er--shortcomings?"
"I"d forgotten you were so afflicted," she laughed, knowing he had no reference to the dinner--that absolutely closed subject.
"I didn"t know I was either, till you told me one day. In fact, you"re always enlightening me. How wonderful you must be to discover so many things in a chap!"
"My insight is very clear," she observed, without enthusiasm.
"A vision filtered through such wonderful eyes should transform everything to beauty," he smiled. "In a negative way I might feel complimented."