Chapter Sixteen.
For Gertrude’s Sake.
“Beg pardon, Miss Gertrude, could I speak to you for a minute?”
“You will excuse me a moment, Mrs Hampton?”
“Oh, of course, my dear. Don’t stand upon ceremony with me.”
Gertrude rose with an anxious expression of countenance, and followed the old housekeeper from the room.
“Is anything the matter, Denton?”
“No, my dear, only that Master George rang for the spirits, and I’ve taken ’em down the garden where they’re sitting under the big cedar.”
“They?”
“Yes, my dear, Mr Saul’s there. He saw him in the garden, I s’pose, and didn’t come up to the house. And I thought, perhaps, a word from you might keep him out of temptation, my dear; for them spirits do tempt him.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll go, Denton,” said Gertrude quickly; and she hurried down the garden, her steps inaudible on the closely shorn lawn, and came round behind the bushes in time to lay her hand upon that of the would-be suicide.
“What the dev—”
“George, dear.”
“Oh, it’s you, Gertie. Well, what’s the matter?”
“Mr Saul Harrington,” said the girl, flushing, as she turned upon the visitor, “have you forgotten Doctor Lawrence’s words?”
“I? Oh, no,” said Saul uneasily, “but doctors exaggerate, and dear George here is all the better for a refreshing draught.”
“It is not true,” she retorted angrily. “George, dear, indeed, indeed it is not good for you.”
“Nonsense, my darling,” he cried, drawing her to him so that she stood close to his chair, and he placed his arm about her waist. “You are too particular. Here, just a little more.”
“No, no,” said Gertrude fiercely. “You are so much better now. Don’t, don’t! for my sake, don’t?”
“Hang it! I want only one glass,” he began angrily, with his brow growing knotty with a network of veins. “Don’t be so confoundedly—”
“George, dear, for my sake,” she whispered.
The change was magical.
“Ah, well, then, I will not, pet. But it would not have hurt me.”
Saul Harrington’s countenance was a study during this colloquy; his face grew more sallow, and a peculiar nervous twitching set in about the corners of his eyes. At one time he seemed to be suffering intense agony, but by an effort he preserved his calmness, and a faint, sardonic smile played about his lips, as his companion assumed the manner of one betrothed toward Gertrude, but those lips looked white all the same.
“Don’t—for my sake, don’t,” he said to himself, unconsciously repeating the girl’s words. “It makes me feel half mad.”
“All right,” said the convalescent. “I’ll take care, then, Gertie. Do you hear, Saul? Spirit except in homoeopathic doses is tabooed, so tempt me not.”
“I tempt you,” said Saul, laughing merrily, but with the vocal chords horribly out of tune; “I like that. My dear Gertrude, here is a man from the States, who has been in the habit of taking whiskey as we take milk; he has been leading me into all kinds of excesses, playing Mephistopheles to me till I have had hard work to keep out of trouble, and then he turns upon me and says, ‘tempt me not.’”
“Don’t talk about it, please,” said Gertrude imploringly.
“Not I, you happy pair,” said Saul, rising, and again laughing unpleasantly as he took up his glass.
“Here’s a speedy and a happy union to you both.”
He drained his glass, and set it down in silence, as Gertrude’s face crimsoned, and then grew pale, while the master of The Mynns frowned.
“Isn’t that what you English people call bad taste?” he said sourly.
“Surely not, my dear boy. I am only Cousin Saul, and have a right to banter a little. There, I’m off back to town.”
“I thought you were going to stay and have a hand at cards, and I want to have a game at billiards on the new table.”
“Cards, billiards? For shame, man, when the lovely Thais sits beside you. Why don’t you take the good the gods provide you?”
“Eh? What do you mean. Hang it all, don’t begin quoting poetry to a fellow. What does he mean, Gertie? Oh, I see. Very good. But that’s all right. She and I understand one another, and we shall have plenty of time to court after we’re married. Eh, Gertie?”
“I must go back to Mrs Hampton now,” said Gertrude gravely.
“Hang Mrs Hampton! How glad I shall be to see her back. But don’t tell her, Gertie.”
She gave him a sad look, and bent down to whisper:
“Remember.”
“Yes, I’ll remember,” was the reply, as her hand was caught and held for a few moments before she could withdraw it.
Saul Harrington’s teeth gritted together as he drew in his breath hard.
“The jade!” he said to himself. “Womanlike. It means diamonds and carriages, does it, my cunning little schemer? Well, we shall see.”
He watched her furtively as she went off slowly; but he could not see the tears welling up to her eyes and brimming over, as with bended head she returned to the house, and in place of going upstairs directly, went into the dining-room, to stand for a few minutes with hands clasped gazing up at the searching eyes of the picture; and her lips moved as she whispered softly:
“It is so—so hard, dear; but for your sake I will, and bring him back to what you wish him to be.”
“Bless her little heart!” said the master of The Mynns, with a sneering laugh, which made Saul start. “Nice little lassie, isn’t she? Do you know, old fellow, I believe you wish you were in my shoes.”
“Bah!”
“There, you look it again. But it’s no good, Saul, my son. It was the old man’s wish, and that’s sacred to her, and, besides, she has taken to me wonderfully. I’m sorry for you, but it’s fate, my boy, fate.”
“Your fate?”
“Yes. But never mind, old boy. I’ll stand by you, and it’s something to make up for your disappointment.”
“Disappointment, man! What disappointment?”
“Yours,” said the other mockingly. “That settles it. You’re a clever fellow, Saul Harrington, but a wretched failure at hiding your feelings.”
“Or else you are a little too clever at divining,” retorted Saul.
“Perhaps so, old fellow. But never mind that. I’ve made up my mind about that investment.”
“And you decline.”
“No; I shall sell out or raise, or do something; and you may tell your friends to do what is necessary.”
“You mean it, George?”
“Of course, I mean it. You have not known me long, but you ought to have seen by now that I never play over money matters. By the way, shall you bring some one here to settle the business?”
“No, I shall take you to the city.”
“When?”
“Oh, not for a week or so. There will be papers to prepare—a sort of transfer.”
“Well, hadn’t I better do it all through old Hampton?”
“If you do, the business will never come off.”
“Because it is too risky.”
“Hampton will say it is.”
“Ah, well, we shall see about that.”
They stayed talking for long enough in the garden, and then went into the house to play billiards till dinner time, when Saul proposed leaving, but was overruled, and he stayed to keep up the principal part of the conversation, and in spite of all that his friend had said, he masked his own feelings so admirably as to throw whoever suspected him off guard.
“I’m going to persuade George to come up soon,” he said; “and I’m going to beg for a little music, Gertie.”
He said this as he held the door open for the ladies to pass out. But he did not keep his word, for the gentlemen sat long over their coffee, and then adjourned to the study.
“Don’t fidget, my dear,” said Mrs Hampton, over their tea. “Mr Hampton is going to stay down to the last, and he’ll speak out if George attempts to take too much.”
Gertrude felt pleased, and yet hurt for her betrothed’s sake, but she said nothing, only felt that all was going on as she could wish, while down in the study the two young men exchanged glances which seemed in each case to say:
“Old Hampton’s down here on guard over the whiskey-bottle.”
“I may smoke,” said the young host, aloud.
“Of course, my dear sir,” said the old lawyer placidly, “of course; but you must not indulge in what Mr Saul Harrington here is taking with impunity.”
“Never mind. I shall be quite right soon, and then I can set you all at defiance. Oh, by the way, Mr Hampton, my funds at the bank are low. I want you to place two thousand pounds more to my credit.”
The old lawyer knit his brows a little, but received his orders calmly enough.
“Am I to dispose of those A Shares, Mr Harrington?”
“Yes, that will do; they bring in no interest worth having.”
“It shall be done, sir. But it will be nearly a fortnight before the transfer can be made.”
“That will do. There is no hurry. Shall we join the ladies now?”
“By all means.”
About an hour later Saul Harrington took his leave, looking friendliness personified, as he promised to be down again soon.
“And disabuse your mind of those fancies, George,” he said, as they walked down to the gate.
“What fancies?”
“About Gertie. Had it been as you say, I had a couple of years for my siege. To show you that you are wrong, I want you to make me a promise.”
“What is it?”
“Let me be best man at your wedding.”
“I was going to ask you.”
“Then that’s settled. Good-night. I’ll put matters in train for the investment.”
“Thanks, do; you see I am in earnest.”
“It takes some thinking out,” said Saul, as he walked slowly toward the station, cigar in mouth, “but it’s worth working for. Poor miserable idiot! And he believes he’s cleverness refined.”
“I don’t quite see through Master Saul’s game,” said the object of his thoughts, as he lit a fresh cigar, and after walking up and down the path a few times, went into the study, where he threw himself upon a couch, and lay looking through the soft wreaths of smoke.
“He’s as jealous as a Turk, and he’d do anything to come between me and little Gertie. But, poor little lass, she’s caught—limed. That’s safe enough. The brute! He led me on and on that night, over that bad champagne, and hardly touched it himself. Wanted to show me up here; and it only made the little darling fonder of me. He’s plotting, but he’s a shallow-brained ass, and one of these days I shall come down upon him a crusher. Now, what does he mean about that money. I don’t want to lose two thousand, but would with pleasure to get him out of the way, for he’s like a lion in one’s path, and I never feel sure. Next heir, eh? Next heir. And my coming kept him out of the cake.”
“Well, Master Saul Harrington,” he said, after a pause, “you may be very clever, but one gets one’s brains edged up a bit out in the West, and if you mean mischief over that money, pray, for your own sake, be careful, for two can play at that game.”
He rose slowly and marched across to the cabinet, one of whose drawers he unlocked; and as he stood with his back to the window, a dimly-seen face appeared at a short distance from one of the panes, and was made more indistinct by a tuft of the evergreen which grew at the side, and half behind which the owner of the face was concealed.
The watcher gazed eagerly in, but was unable to make out whether the occupant of the room was examining letters or counting over money—the latter suggested itself as correct.
But he was wrong, for the possessor of The Mynns was slowly and carefully thrusting cartridge after cartridge into the chambers of a large revolver, one which had been his companion far away in the West.
“‘A friend in need is a friend indeed,’” he said, as he closed the drawer. “It may be imagination, but when one has a fortune, a goodly home, and a pretty girl waiting to call one ‘hub,’ a fellow wants to live as long as he can. If it’s fancy, why, there’s no harm done.”
As he spoke, the face at the window was still watching, but so far from the pane as to be invisible from within.