I held her for a moment after saying this, and then I bent down and for the first time in my life kissed her. But it was on the brow that I kissed her. And I am sure no brother could have saluted her more respectfully.
She drew back. Her head fell against my shoulder. I saw deep into her splendid eyes,—deep, deep. Back of all the tears and the smiles and the mystery I read at last what they were saying. I read—and I was humbled and abashed. I knew the truth at last. Wanza loved me.
I saw clearly now, indeed. I recalled Father O’Shan’s words: “Be careful in your dealings with that child.” I had been blind, and a fool. I blamed myself, and I hated myself. I stood stupidly staring into the face so near my own until with a sudden wrench Wanza jerked away from me, and ran on down the purpling wood-aisle before me, dashing the tears from her eyes as she fled.
I walked home slowly, astounded and perplexed by the revelation I had had.
CHAPTER XXI
FATE’S FINAL JAVELIN
THAT night in my lonely cabin I fell ill, and burned with fever, and shook with ague so that I was unable to drag myself about the cabin, but lay all the next day and the next in my bunk. The following day my fever left me magically; and late in the afternoon I arose, fed and curried my half-starved cayuse and, mounting, rode away beneath the berry-reddened yews to the trail that led to Haidee.
I dismounted at the rustic pergola at the rear of the cabin, tethered my cayuse and walked around to the front door. The door was closed, and a silence that was almost oppressive brooded over the place. I ran up the steps, and a curious premonition that Haidee had gone away sickened me as I rapped on the panel. Terrified at receiving no response, I turned the handle, pressed forward, and caught at the casement for support in my weakness. I peered in, and at the sight I saw my knees all but gave way so that I swung about like a loose sail in a sudden breeze.
On the floor lay Randall Batterly in a ghastly pool of blood. His face was upturned to the cold October sunlight. His lips were opened in a half snarl, his full lids were wide apart over his rolled back, terrible eyes. He was bleeding from a wound in his chest. And Haidee stood above him, gazing down upon him, gray horror painted on her face.
She heard my step and turned, and I caught the metallic thud as the revolver she had been holding dropped to the bare floor. She stared at me, put out her hand as if to thrust me back. I saw fear in her face.
“It is you! It is you!” she breathed.