Red and Black

by Grace S. Richmond

On one of her trips into the room, when Cary happened to be quiet for a little, Jane whispered to Black that she would take his place and he must go downstairs and eat the lunch she had prepared for him. When he told her that he didn’t need it she only pointed, quite imperiously, to the door, and he obediently left the room and went to do her bidding. It was as he was finishing the delicious viands he found on the table in the room below that his ear, alert for any signs of trouble above, caught the sinister sound he was listening for. He ran up, three steps at a time, to find Jane struggling in the grip of her half-crazed brother, who was demanding in language so profane that it seemed to burn the air, the instant production of the one thing in the world he wanted.

“You’ve got it—you’re hiding it—you little fool! Do you want to see me dead before morning—you——” Then came the oaths, this time but half uttered before a strong, smothering hand descended upon the twisting mouth, and a stern voice said commandingly: “Not another word like that, Ray, or I’ll choke you till you’re still!” At the same moment a jerk of Black’s head toward the door and his fiery glance at Jane told her that he wanted her out of the room and out of hearing as fast as she could get away.

It was a long tussle this time, but it was over at last, and once more, worn out by the violence of his own efforts, Cary lay quiet for a little. Confident that though not asleep he would not at once find strength to fight again, Black stole out of the room. In the narrow hall outside he found Jane, sitting on the top stair, her head buried in her arms.

Thus far he had known Jane only as a finely practical young business woman, as independent as she was capable. He had seen that adorable head of hers, with its smooth crown of chestnut hair, always held high, with a suggestion of indomitable courage. Now—it looked as if it had been brought low—incredibly low. She had long before exchanged the dress in which she had spent the day in the shop for a plain white skirt and blouse such as nurses wear, and in this costume she looked much younger and more girlish than in the more conventional dress. Her white-shod feet were crossed as a girl crosses them; and altogether, in the dim light from the half-open door, she seemed to Black more like Cary’s dependent young sister than one older than himself to whom he had come as to a refuge. He didn’t know, as yet, that after all it was Cary who was the older.

At the sound of the light footstep, however, Jane instantly lifted her head, and then rose quickly to her feet, and he saw her smile—an undoubtedly forced little smile, but full of pluck.

“You must be desperately tired,” she whispered. “But I don’t know what I should have done without you this night.”

“You couldn’t have done without me. I can’t tell you how glad I am to be here. And I’m not half as tired as you are. Won’t you go now and lie down? You can’t do a bit of good by staying on guard here, and you’ll need your strength to-morrow. This isn’t going to be a short siege, I’m afraid.”

“I know it’s not. But I’ve been through it all before. I shall call Doctor Burns to-morrow. I tried to to-night, so I could release you, but he was away for the night. And—I didn’t want to call anybody else. Nobody else—here—knows, and—I can’t have them know.”

“Nobody knows you have a brother?”

“Oh, they’ve seen Cary—but only when he was—himself. He is—Cary is a genius, Mr. Black; he just has—the defects of his temperament. He—I can show you——”