"I conna," she answered firmly. "I conna promise yo". Yo" mun let me do as I ha" done fur th" sake o" my own peace."
She made no further explanation, and he could not persuade her to alter her determination. In fact, he was led to see at last, that there was more behind than she had the will or power to reveal to him; something in her reticence silenced him.
"Yo" dunnot know what _I_ do," she said before they parted. "An"
happen yo" would na quoite understand it if yo" did. I dunnot do things lightly,--I ha" no reason to,--an" I ha" set my moind on seein" that th"
harm as has been brewin" fur long enow, shanna reach wheer it"s aimed.
I mun ha" my way. Dunnot ask me to gi"e it up. Let me do as I ha" been doin" fur th" sake o" mysen, if fur no one else."
The truth which he could not reach, and would not have reached if he had talked to her till doomsday, was that she was right in saying that she could not give it up. This woman had made no inconsequent boast when she told her father that if deadly blows fell, they must fall first upon herself. She was used to blows, she could bear them, she was fearless before them,--but she could not have borne to sit at home, under any possibility of wrong being done to this man. G.o.d knows what heavy sadness had worn her soul, through the months in which she had never for a moment flinched from the knowledge that a whole world lay between herself and him. G.o.d knows how she had struggled against the unconquerable tide of feeling as it crept slowly upon her, refusing to be stemmed and threatening to overwhelm her in its remorseless waves.
She was only left endurance--yet even in this there was a gladness which she had in nothing else. She could never meet him as a happier woman might, but she could do for him what other women could not do--she could brave darkness and danger, she could watch over him, if need be; if the worst came to the worst, she could interpose herself between him and violence, or death itself.
But of all this, Fergus Derrick suspected nothing. He only knew that while she had not misinterpreted his appeal, some reason of her own held her firm.
CHAPTER XXVI - The Package Returned
As Joan turned the corner of a lane leading to the high road, she found herself awkwardly trying to pa.s.s a man who confronted her--a young fellow far too elegant and well-dressed to be a Rigganite.
"Beg pardon!" he said abruptly, as if he were not in the best of humors.
And then she recognized him.
"It"s Mester Ralph Landsell," she said to herself as she went on. "What is he doin" here?"
But before she had finished speaking, she started at the sight of a figure hurrying on before her,--Liz herself, who had evidently just parted from her lover, and was walking rapidly homeward.
It was a shock to Joan, though she did not suspect the whole truth.
She had trusted the girl completely; she had never interfered with her outgoing or incoming; she had been generously lenient toward her on every point, and her pang at finding herself deceived was keen. Her sudden discovery of the subterfuge filled her with alarm.
What was the meaning of it? Surely it could not mean that this man was digging fresh pitfalls for the poor straying feet. She could not believe this,--she could only shudder as the ominous thought suggested itself.
And Liz--nay, even Liz could not be weak enough to trifle with danger again.
But it was Liz who was hurrying on before her, and who was walking so fast that both were breathless when Joan reached her side and laid a detaining hand upon her shoulder.
"Liz," she said, "are yo" afeard o" me?"
Liz turned her face around, colorless and frightened. There was a tone in the voice she had never heard before, a reproach in Joan"s eyes before which she faltered.
"I--did na know it wur yo"," she said, almost peevishly. "What fur should I be afeard o" yo"?"
Joan"s hand dropped.
"Yo" know best," she answered. "I did na say yo" wur."
Liz pulled her shawl closer about her shoulders, as if in nervous protest.
"I dunnot see why I should be, though to be sure it"s enow to fear one to be followed i" this way. Canna I go out fur a minnit wi"out--wi"out--"
"Nay, la.s.s," Joan interrupted, "that"s wild talk."
Liz began to whimper.
"Th" choild wur asleep," she said, "an" it wur so lonesome i" th" house.
Theer wur no harm i" comin" out."
"I hope to G.o.d theer wur na," exclaimed Joan. "I"d rayther see thy dead face lyin" by th" little un"s on th" pillow than think as theer wur. Yo"
know what I mean, Liz. Yo" know I could na ha" caught up wi" yo"
wi"out pa.s.sin" thot mon theer,--th" mon as yo" ha" been meetin" on th"
sly,--G.o.d knows why, la.s.s, fur I canna see, unless yo" want to fa" back to shame an" ruin."
They were at home by this time, and she opened the door to let the girl walk in before her.
"Get thee inside, Liz," she said. "I mun hear what tha has to say, fur I conna rest i" fear for thee. I am na angered, fur I pity thee too much.
Tha art naught but a choild at th" best, an" th" world is fu" o" traps an" snares."
Liz took off her hat and shawl and sat down. She covered her face with her hands, and sobbed appealingly.
"I ha" na done no harm," she protested. "I nivver meant none. It wur his fault. He wunnot let me a-be, an"--an" he said he wanted to hear summat about th" choild, an" gi"e me summat to help me along. He said as he wur ashamed o" hissen to ha" left me wi"out money, but he wur hard run at the toime, an" now he wanted to gi" me some."
"Money!" said Joan. "Did he offer yo" money?"
"Aye, he said----"
"Wait!" said Joan. "Did yo" tak" it?"
"What would yo" ha" me do?" restlessly. "Theer wur no harm----"
"Ha" yo" getten it on yo"?" interrupting her again.
"Aye," stopping to look up questioningly.
Joan held out her hand.
"Gi"e it to me," she said, steadily.
Mr. Ralph Landsell, who was sitting in his comfortable private parlor at the princ.i.p.al hotel of the little town, was disturbed in the enjoyment of his nightly cigar by the abrupt announcement of a visitor,--a young woman, who surprised him by walking into the room and straight up to the table near which he sat.
She was such a very handsome young woman, with her large eyes and finely cut face, and heavy nut-brown hair, and, despite her common dress, so very imposing a young woman, that the young man was quite startled,--especially when she laid upon the table-cloth a little package, which he knew had only left his hands half an hour before.
"I ha" browt it back to yo";" she said, calmly.
He glanced down at the package and then up at her, irritated and embarra.s.sed.
"You have brought it back to me?" he said. "May I ask what it is?"
"I dunnot think yo" need ask; but sin" yo" do so, I con answer. It"s th"
money, Mester Landsell,--th" money yo" give to poor Lizzie."