THE SECOND BLOW
Norton could scarcely control his eagerness to face the woman he loathed. Every nerve of his body tingled with the agony of his desire to be free.
He was ready for the end, no matter what she might do. The time had come in the strong man's life when compromise, conciliation, and delay were alike impossible. He cursed himself and his folly to-night that he had delayed so long. He had tried to be fair to the woman he hated. His sense of justice, personal honor, and loyalty to his pledged word, had given her the opportunity to strike him the blow she had delivered through the girl. He had been more than fair and he would settle it now for all time.
That she was afraid to meet him was only too evident from her leaving the house on his return. He smiled grimly when he recalled the effrontery with which she had defied him at their last meeting.
Her voice, sharp and angry, rang out to Andy at the back door.
Norton's strong jaw closed with a snap, and he felt his whole being quiver at the rasping sound of her familiar tones. She had evidently recovered her composure and was ready with her usual insolence.
She walked quickly into the room, and threw her head up with defiance:
"Well?"
"Why have you avoided me to-night?"
"Have I?"
"I think so."
Cleo laughed sneeringly:
"You'll think again before I'm done with you!"
She shook her head with the old bravado, but the keen eyes of the man watching saw that she was not sure of her ground.
He folded his arms and quietly began:
"For twenty years I have breathed the air poisoned by your presence. I have seen your insolence grow until you have announced yourself the mistress of my house. You knew that I was afraid of your tongue, and thought that a coward would submit in the end. Well, it's over. I've held my hand for the past four weeks until my duty to the people was done. I've been a coward when I saw the tangled web of lies and shame in which I floundered. But the past is past. I face life to-night as it is"—his voice dropped—"and I'm going to take what comes. Your rule in my house is at an end——"
"Indeed!"
"Helen leaves here to-morrow morning and you go."
"Really?"
"I've made a decent provision for your future—which is more than you deserve. Pack your things!"
The woman threw him a look of hate and her lips curved with scorn:
"So—you have kindly allowed me to stay until your campaign was ended. Well, I've understood you. I knew that you were getting ready for me. I'm ready for you."
"And you think that I will allow you to remain in my house after what has passed between us?"
"Yes, you will," she answered smiling. "I'm not going to leave. You'll have to throw me into the street. And if you do, God may pity you, I'll not. There's one thing you fear more than a public scandal!"
Norton advanced and glared at her:
"What?"
"The hatred of the boy you idolize. I dare you to lay your hands on me to put me out of this house! And if you do, Tom will hear from my lips the story of the affair that ended in the death of his mother. I'll tell him the truth, the whole truth, and then a great deal more than the truth——"
"No doubt!" he interrupted.
"But there'll be enough truth in all I say to convince him beyond a doubt. I promise you now"—she dropped her voice to a whisper—"to lie to him with a skill so sure, so cunning, so perfect, no denial you can ever make will shake his faith in my words. He loves me and I'll make him believe me. When I finish my story he ought to kill you. There's one thing you can depend on with his high-strung and sensitive nature and the training you have given him in racial purity—when he hears my story, he'll curse you to your face and turn from you as if you were a leper. I'll see that he does this if it's the last and only thing I do on this earth!"
"And if you do——"
"Oh, I'm not afraid!" she sneered, holding his eye with the calm assurance of power. "I've thought it all over and I know exactly what to say."
He leaned close:
"Now listen! I don't want to hurt you but you're going out of my life. Every day while I've sheltered you in this house you have schemed and planned to drag me down again to your level. You have failed. I am not going to risk that girl's presence here another day—and you go!"
As he spoke the last words he turned from her with a gesture of final dismissal. She tossed her head in a light laugh and calmly said:
"You're too late!"
He stopped in his tracks, his heart chilled by the queer note of triumph in her voice. Without turning or moving a muscle he asked:
"What do you mean?"
"Tom is already in love with Helen!"
He wheeled and hurled himself at her:
"What?"
"And she is desperately in love with him"—she stopped and deliberately laughed again in his face—"and I have known it for weeks!"
Another step brought his trembling figure towering over her:
"I don't believe you!" he hissed.
Cleo walked leisurely to the door and smiled:
"Ask the servants if you doubt my word." She finished with a sneer. "I begged you not to fight, major!"
He stood rooted to the spot and watched her slowly walk backward into the hall. It was a lie, of course. And yet the calm certainty with which she spoke chilled his soul as he recalled his own suspicions. He must know now without a moment's delay and he must know the whole truth without reservation.
Before he approached either Tom or Helen there was one on whom he had always relied to tell the truth. Her honest black face had been the one comfort of his life through the years of shadow and deceit. If Minerva knew she would tell him.
He rushed to the door that led to the kitchen and called:
"Minerva!"
The answer came feebly:
"Yassah."
"Come here!"
He had controlled his emotions sufficiently to speak his last command with some degree of dignity.
He walked back to the table and waited for her coming. His brain was in a whirl of conflicting, stunning emotion. He simply couldn't face at once the appalling possibilities such a statement involved. His mind refused to accept it. As yet it was a lie of Cleo's fertile invention, and still his reason told him that such a lie could serve no sane purpose in such a crisis. He felt that he was choking. His hand involuntarily went to his neck and fumbled at his collar.
Minerva's heavy footstep was heard and he turned sharply:
"Minerva!"
"Yassah"—she answered, glancing at him timidly. Never had she seen his face so ghastly or the look in his eye so desperate. She saw that he was making an effort at self-control and knew instinctively that the happiness of the lovers was at stake. It was too solemn a moment for anything save the naked truth and her heart sank in pity and sympathy for the girl she had promised to help.
"Minerva," he began evenly, "you are the only servant in this house who has never lied to me"—he took a step closer. "Are Tom and Miss Helen lovers?"
Minerva fumbled her apron, glanced at his drawn face, looked down on the floor and stammered:
"De Lordy, major——"
"Yes or no!" he thundered.
The black woman moistened her lips, hesitated, turned her honest face on his and said tremblingly:
"Yassah, dey is!"
His eyes burned into hers:
"And you, too, have known this for weeks?"
"Yassah. Mister Tom ax me not ter tell ye——"
Norton staggered to a seat and sank with a groan of despair, repeating over and over again in low gasps the exclamation that was a sob and a prayer:
"Great God!—Great God!"
Minerva drew near with tender sympathy. Her voice was full of simple, earnest pleading:
"De Lordy, major, what's de use? Young folks is young folks, an' love's love. What ye want ter break 'em up fer—dey's so happy! Yer know, sah, ye can't mend er butterfly's wing er put er egg back in de shell. Miss Helen's young, beautiful, sweet and good—won't ye let me plead fer 'em, sah?"
With a groan of anguish Norton sprang to his feet:
"Silence—silence!"
"Yassah!"
"Go—find Miss Helen—send her to me quickly. I don't want to see Mr. Tom. I want to see her alone first."
Minerva had backed out of his way and answered plaintively:
She paused and extended her hand pleadingly:
"You'll be easy wid 'em, sah?"
He hadn't heard. The tall figure slowly sank into the chair and his shoulders drooped in mortal weariness.
Minerva shook her head sadly and turned to do his bidding.
Norton's eyes were set in agony, his face white, his breast scarcely moving to breathe, as he waited Helen's coming. The nerves suddenly snapped—he bowed his face in his hands and sobbed aloud:
"Oh, dear God, give me strength! I can't—I can't confess to my boy!"