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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bird in the Box, by Mary Mears
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Bird in the Box
-
-Author: Mary Mears
-
-Release Date: October 26, 2017 [EBook #55816]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BIRD IN THE BOX ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Al Haines
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- THE BIRD IN
- THE BOX
-
-
- BY MARY MEARS
-
-
- Author of "The Breath of The Runners"
-
-
-
- TORONTO
- WILLIAM BRIGGS
-
-
-
-
- _All rights reserved, including that of translation
- into foreign languages including the Scandinavian_
-
- Copyright, 1910, by
- FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
-
- October, 1910
-
-
-
-
-To
-
-THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER
-
-"NELLY WILDWOOD"
-
-THIS BOOK IS DEVOTEDLY INSCRIBED
-
-
-
-
-AUTHOR'S PREFACE
-
-The soul of man at birth is immured in a prison. It is like a bird
-singing in a cage, heedless of the bars that confine it. But later the
-soul knows its bondage.
-
-Panting with a desire for liberty, man tries in two ways to attain it,
-through his ability to labour, through his capacity to feel.
-
-He has need of freedom, hence the poem, the ship, the engine, the
-thousand cunning and gigantic structures for annihilating space, for
-chaining the forces of nature.
-
-He has need of freedom, hence the universal outpouring of his
-affections, the glory and the emancipation of his highest love.
-
-June, 1910
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS
-
-
- BOOK I
-
- CHAPTER
-
- I The Long Journey and the Longer One
- II The Waiting of Women
- III The Sun
- IV Amid Bleak Surroundings
- V The Barnacle
- VI The Figure-head Gains an Admirer
- VII Concerning Alexander Emil St. Ives
- VIII In the Cause of Science
- IX The Old Fascination
- X In Which a Kiss Is Given and Regretted
- XI At the Old Burying Point
- XII The Migratory Instinct
-
-
- BOOK II
-
- I The Street of Masts
- II Emily Short--Toy-Maker
- III Simon Hart to the Rescue
- IV The Unexpected Happens
- V Showing that Sacrifices Are not Always Appreciated
- VI Despair and Desolation
- VII Stop--Look--Listen
- VIII A Woman's Caprice; A Father's Repentance;
- A Lover's Self-Conquest; A Girl's Pity
- IX Rachel--Simon
- X The Bird in the Box
-
-
- BOOK III
-
- I The House in Washington Square
- II Continuation of the History of a Genius
- III The Confession
- IV How is it Possible to Stop Loving
- V Love by the Sea
- VI The Insistent Past
- VII In Which John Smith Unburdens His Conscience
- VIII The Place of the Statues
- IX The Energy of Being
- X In the Garden
- XI Flames
- XII Love Confronts Despair
- XIII The Escape
-
-
-
-
-BOOK I
-
-
-
-THE BIRD IN THE BOX
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-THE LONG JOURNEY AND THE LONGER ONE
-
-The new vessel, gay with swelling scarves of bunting, ornamented from
-stem to stern with floating flags that kissed the breeze, rested easily
-on the stocks. The ways under her had been greased, the space before
-her in the river cleared. High on the prow her name _Merida_ shone in
-gold letters. Every eye was upon her.
-
-Grimy faces looked from shop windows. The windows of the bending-shed,
-the blackboard-shed, the pipe-cutting shop, the sheet-iron shop, the
-joiner-shop, the brass-foundry,--all were filled with countenances
-blackened by labour. Similar countenances peered from the masts of
-vessels still in the slips, and from the heights of the immense
-travelling cranes and floating derricks. These gigantic and uncouth
-machines seemed to await the launch with an eagerness of their own.
-Had not each, in its own way, helped to fashion her--this marvel of a
-new ship?
-
-The contrivances for drilling, chipping, caulking, blowing
-rivet-heating fires seemed to hold their breath, so unwonted was their
-stillness at this hour; while the mammoth pontoon, whose duty was still
-to be performed,--that of transporting the eighty-ton boiler a distance
-of one hundred feet and depositing it, a living heart, within the
-vessel,--the pontoon seemed to be lost in speculation.
-
-The stocks gave no sign. Amid all the excitement of the yard, these
-great mother-arms of wood awaited stoically the instant when they must
-release their burden. All the morning a swarm of workmen had been busy
-loosening their tenacious hold on the new vessel.
-
-"She'll go out at the turn of the tide," remarked a reporter; "that
-chap over there with an eyeglass will give the signal. He's launched
-over a hundred vessels, and never a hitch."
-
-The newspaper artist to whom these remarks were addressed, scarcely
-heeded them. He was busy with his sketch. But an old man, standing
-near, caught the words and shivered ecstatically.
-
-"She's a Ward liner to be used in the fruit trade between New York and
-Havana," continued the reporter. "Look, there comes the launching
-party now," he cried. "The messenger boy has the flowers,--and that's
-the girl who's to do the christening! She's the granddaughter of the
-owner. Rather good looking, don't you think?"
-
-The old man turned squarely about. His stick shook in his hand.
-Excitement gripped him by the throat. He smiled broadly. The girl,
-accompanied by a bevy of friends, came forward. She was a slight
-thing, dressed in grey, and had about her neck a white feather boa,
-which fluttered in the breeze. Escorted by a man wearing a high hat,
-who helped her over the obstructions, she approached the new vessel,
-lifting blue eyes to the imposing height. A platform, reached by a
-slant of stairway and bright with red, white and blue bunting, had been
-built against the boat's bow. The girl's slim fingers grasped the
-railing, and followed by the rest of the party, she lightly ascended
-the steps.
-
-Immediately there was a commotion. A score or more workmen, like
-elves, swarmed beneath the immense swelling sides of the boat, and with
-rhythmical strokes of sledge hammers, drove in wedges and removed the
-long pieces of timber placed in a slanting position against the ship.
-Thus lifted, the _Merida_ rested completely on the greased ways. Only
-one log now restrained the six hundred feet of her impatient length.
-Was it the mother's lingering hold?
-
-Red below the water-line, black above, her new anchor turned to silver
-in the sunlight, the _Merida_ was without blemish, save for the spots
-left when the shores were hauled down; and these spots workmen,
-carrying long-handled brushes, touched rapidly with paint. At last all
-was in readiness and the dull sound of a saw passing through wood could
-be heard. The silence grew so deep that the word given by the man
-wearing the eyeglass was heard by the spectators. He spoke quietly;
-the saw passed through the log. The girl with the fluttering boa was
-seen to raise her hand; there was a shattering of glass, and with one
-plunge, one impulse of superb motion, the new ship slid down the ways.
-Swiftly, smoothly, she glided forward and the laughing water seemed to
-rise to meet her.
-
-Instantly from an hundred throats a shout went up. The boats watching
-from the river began to whistle, the locomotives on the surrounding
-railroads shrieked shrilly. The workmen threw their caps into the air
-and followed as fast as they could along the line of the deserted
-stocks. The girl in the white boa waved her handkerchief. But the
-boats on the river had their own way. Shrilly, loudly, continuously,
-they tooted; while those still in the slips,--double-turreted monitors
-and squat battleships,--without bells, without whistles, without
-cannon,--by the very eagerness with which they seemed to await their
-turn, added mystically to the commotion.
-
-_Free_! This was the one thought expressed on every side. It was as
-if man, by the intensity of his craving to escape bonds, communicated
-this desire to the objects of his creation. The impulse of the
-launching had carried the new ship to the middle of the stream, and
-there, hailed by the enthusiasm of the shore and the river, she
-floated, half-turning as if looking back coquettishly at the land;
-while over her a flock of birds, little specks in air, circled in an
-abandonment of freedom.
-
-Amid all the tumult only one figure had remained without stirring. The
-old man with the stick in his hand was a stranger; until that day he
-had never been seen in the place. Yet, at the moment of the launch, he
-alone reached the highest pitch of exultation of which the human spirit
-is capable.
-
-No longer conscious of his body, he laughed while great tears rolled
-down his cheeks and lost themselves in his beard. Suddenly, however,
-he looked at the ways covered with tallow which lay in folds
-now,--wrinkled like the flesh of the very old,--at the stocks lifting
-empty arms to the sky; and a change came over him. The sparkles died
-in his eyes, the eyes themselves seemed to sink back in his head. He
-lifted his hand. Then, after a wavering second, the hand fell.
-
-"Ships," he quavered, speaking half to himself, half, it would seem, to
-the deserted stocks, "ships is like sons. There's no use clutchin' 'em
-or hangin' on to 'em. It's their nature to go exploitin' over the
-world. All we can say is, the Lord bless 'em, the Lord reveal his
-mighty wonders to 'em. Amen."
-
-After this quaint speech, his spirit, which was the eternal youth
-within him, revived. Chuckling to himself, old David Beckett started
-on his homeward journey to Pemoquod Point on the Maine coast, a day's
-and a night's travel, by water and rail. His pilgrimage to
-Philadelphia, from every point of view but his own, had proved
-unsuccessful.
-
-Five months before, David's son, Thomas Beckett, had disappeared from
-the Point and had gone to Philadelphia to work in the shipyards.
-Beyond the bald statement of this fact, which he left scrawled on the
-back of an envelope, young Thomas had never written a word home, though
-once he had sent a draft for a small sum of money. His was an
-impatient, gloomy spirit, easily depressed and easily excited. Life,
-indeed, either blazed in him like a devouring flame, or died down to a
-flicker which left him frozen and taciturn, with never a word on his
-thick, handsome lips, and no feeling in his heart, save, apparently,
-that of a fierce caged thing. In this mood when at home he had been
-wont to go about for weeks, leaving the care of the lobster pots
-entirely to his father, while he nursed his insensate wrath. Then,
-suddenly, the light would come. He would set about his work with
-savage joy, and with painful eagerness would read every book that came
-to his hand, from the Bible to a ten cent translation of a French
-novel. He would sing, he would lay plans. It was in this mood that he
-had gone to Philadelphia. When, however, his father followed him,
-bearing urgent news concerning the young fellow's wife, Thomas had
-again disappeared. Two weeks before, so old David learned, he had
-shipped as a sailor on an out-going vessel he had helped to build. But
-the father understood.
-
-"I tell ye, Zary," he proclaimed the following evening in Old Harbour,
-as he clambered into the cart of his friend Zarah Patch, blandly
-ignoring the question in the other's face, "Philadelphy's changed since
-the days when I used to work in the car shops at t'other end of the
-town. There wa'n't any sech vessels built then. Double-turreted
-monitors and iron-clad battleships and cruisers that blaze with lights
-at night jest like floating hotels, all gilt furniture and white paint.
-Times has changed. Why some of them ships, when they was finished,
-they told me, would have as many as four engines apiece a-beatin'
-inside of 'em, to say nothin' of cylinders and twin-screws; and the
-fightin' ships would jest bristle with breach-loading rifles and
-Gatling guns. Think of the commotion they'll make when they're once
-finished, all them ships!" he concluded gleefully. "Yet there they
-stood, each in its stocks, quiet as lambs, helpless as babes unborn."
-
-As David uttered the last words, Zarah gave him a sidelong glance,
-though he made no comment other than the sharp flap he gave the reins
-on the mare's back. He was not given to speech. Zarah owned a bit of
-ground on which he raised vegetables which he delivered to the summer
-hotel. He also carried what travellers there were from Old Harbour
-dock to Pemoquod. To-night David, the lobsterman, was his one
-passenger.
-
-It was about seven o'clock of an evening in late summer, and across
-that bleak, barren bit of land the sun was just setting. As they drove
-along, it sparkled on the window panes of the houses and lit up the
-cross on the Catholic church; beyond the village it seemed to confine
-itself to the rocks by the wayside. It turned them a dull soft gold.
-A strong salt breeze was blowing.
-
-Bony with boulders, the land reached like an eager arm into the sea, as
-if it would obtain somewhat. But beyond the dories of the lobstermen
-clinging close in shore and visible as the road ascended to a slight
-eminence, nothing told of any garnering whatsoever. On every side were
-wastes of long brownish grass, low shrubs and clumps of pines, that
-stood up stark by the roadside. Beneath the dark shade of the trees
-mushrooms and little clumps of shell were embedded in moss.
-
-Of farms, strictly speaking, there were none, though the houses that
-revealed themselves occasionally as the road dipped and turned, had
-each its poor attempt at a garden. It was frankly a land of bleak
-striving, bordering closely on want, of roistering storms and sweet,
-enveloping fogs.
-
-As David Beckett talked he raised his voice to a piping treble. Ships
-and the building of ships, this was his theme. And exalted beyond time
-and reality, he gave himself up to it, so that at last even Zarah was
-influenced. Its poetry began to work in his slower brain and his lips
-relaxed into a smile.
-
-As the sun neared the horizon, the wind increased, and in every
-direction the shrubs bent before it with a writhing movement; and as
-far as the eye could see, an agitation ran through the coarse grass.
-From the sea came the steady moaning of the surf. It was as if the
-earth emitted heavy sighs; but for these two ancient men the burdens
-that weigh upon human life had ceased to exist.
-
-The house before which they presently stopped was a gaunt frame
-structure with scarcely a trace of whitewash remaining upon its
-clapboards. Cold and exposed it turned its front door away from the
-road with New England reserve. A lilac bush grew under one of the
-windows. With every breath of wind it sawed against the sill. As
-David possessed himself of his carpet-bag and turned in at the gate
-with a wave of the hand, the sun, which until that moment had shone
-full upon this window, disappeared. Shadows and the old man entered
-the house together.
-
-Flushed like Ulysses returned from his adventures, old David deposited
-his grip-sack in the entry and then cautiously approached his
-daughter-in-law's room. She lay there in a great bed with four posts,
-and in her thin fingers, she held a leaf of the lilac bush--a leaf like
-a green heart.
-
-The old man peered in at her, pursing up his lips. He thought that his
-story would "liven Laviny up," and he was enjoying the prospect of
-relating it, when she turned toward him. She half lifted herself on
-her elbow. Her face was ghastly, her eyes shining. She looked past
-him; then fixed her eyes wildly on his face. But he shook his head at
-her and began speaking with soft jocularity.
-
-"No, I didn't bring him, I couldn't; let me tell you how it was;" and
-he advanced smiling into the room. "Day after day as Thomas seen that
-ship he was at work on, grow up taller in the stocks; as he fitted them
-pieces of red tin unto her sides,--for Thomas was what they call a
-'fitter-up', Laviny,--he had his thoughts. And you an' me, knowin'
-him, we know pretty well what those thoughts were. The long and short
-of it was, he couldn't stand bein' tied by the leg no longer. He
-thought how she would glide through the water, that great ship, of the
-lands she'd visit, of--Laviny!" he cried sharply, as with a gasp, she
-fell back on the pillow.
-
-"You hadn't ought to act so," he expostulated; "you know he wa'n't
-marked the way he was fer nothin' with that little spot on his left
-cheek under the eye. His mother marked him that way before ever he was
-born, and we often spoke of its bein' jest the shape of the continent
-of Africky; and it's to Africky--"
-
-A hoarse rattle drowned his words. He peered more closely at her with
-his aged eyes. And at that moment a faint thin wail came up from the
-other side of the bed.
-
-He seized her arm while his tears fell on her wrist, which never
-quivered under their hot touch. "Laviny!" he cried, "Oh, he hadn't
-ought to have done it! Don't leave me alone with _it_--the little
-one!" he shrieked. "Why didn't you tell me it was here? Oh, Laviny,
-Laviny girl!"
-
-But Lavina Beckett paid no heed. She had embarked for a stranger port
-and over stormier seas than any her husband had dared. The sound of
-the old man's sobs brought a woman to the door. Her figure surged with
-fat. One of her teeth projected when her face was in repose. She
-hastily approached the bed, but even she was awed.
-
-"Don't make sech a noise," she said finally. "It ain't no use. You
-can't call her back now. If you could've managed to bring _him_, it
-would've been different likely. But you didn't. You never did manage,
-I guess, to do anything you set out to."
-
-But the old man paid no heed. He sat with his hands on his knees, his
-head dropped forward, inefficient, old, broken down by grief, and a
-thin low wail for the second time broke the silence.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-THE WAITING OF WOMEN
-
-Lavina Beckett lay in the front room of the old house, and people
-passing glanced askance at the closed blinds. Recent death inhabits a
-place more completely than life, and Lavina's personality seemed to
-lurk in the panels of the grey door, in the branches of the lilac bush,
-and even extended to the road.
-
-All through the day neighbours came to offer condolences. Then,
-shrewd-faced, with the marks of child-bearing, hard work and a harsh
-climate in every line, these respectable wives of lobstermen took their
-way home in little groups. In the house they had borne themselves
-somewhat awkwardly, and once outside, their pity for the dead woman
-appeared tinged with resentment. Little was known about her at the
-Point.
-
-It was after nightfall when a woman wearing a shawl over her head,
-knocked timidly at old David's door. A boy of six years clung to her
-skirts. When she was admitted, she slipped furtively into the room of
-death, and the boy, with difficulty restraining his tears, waited for
-her in the kitchen. He was afraid of the fat woman with her face bound
-round with a handkerchief, who was washing dishes at the sink. She
-made a great clatter. When she stepped to a cupboard, the candle threw
-an exaggerated portrait of her on the opposite wall. The ends of the
-cloth around her face stood up in two points, like horns; from between
-her flabby cheeks, projected a nose like a beak. A fork in her hand
-became, to his gaze, the size of a pitchfork. Once, when she passed
-near him, she held back her skirts, muttering under her breath; and he
-saw the same aversion in her eyes that he knew to be in his own, save
-that in her look there was a mingling of scorn and in his, a mingling
-of fright. It was a strange look to be directed toward a child, but it
-was one with which the boy was familiar. Presently his mother
-reappeared and they went out again. She walked very rapidly and now
-and then she wiped her eyes with a corner of her apron. The boy had to
-run to keep up with her. When they struck into a rugged path leading
-to the lighthouse, he paused and looked back.
-
-Under the light of a full moon the Beckett house shone with a quite
-peculiar radiance. And yes, there it was! as they had said. It stood
-near the tumble-down cow-shed. The funeral was to take place in a
-village some miles distant, and an early start in the morning was
-necessary. The undertaker had gone, but the driver, with the hearse,
-would remain the night. He was eating his supper now, waited upon by
-the ugly woman. Meanwhile it stood out in the yard and the moonlight
-glinted on the four sable urns that decorated its corners, and sparkled
-on its glass sides and peeped between the black hangings without
-hindrance. The moon, indeed, to the child's thought, seemed to be as
-curious as he. Beads of perspiration started to his forehead, and,
-grasping his mother's skirt, he stumbled on at her side.
-
-As the boy had pictured, in the Beckett kitchen the driver of the
-hearse was eating his supper, washing it down with a drink of whiskey.
-Then he disposed himself as best he could on two chairs, and fell
-asleep. Nora Gage finished the preserves the man had left on his
-plate, ate a quarter of a pie and went to bed in a room conveniently
-near the pantry. By eleven o'clock old David was alone.
-
-He entered the front room, and very softly approached the coffin. The
-light from a candle wavered over the dead face. Leaning his elbow on
-the coffin lid and his chin in his hand, old David inspected the face.
-The first shock past, he wondered that he did not feel more poignant
-sorrow, but there was something almost impersonal in Lavina's
-expression. There were violet shadows under the eyes, and the lashes,
-as they rested on the cheek, were somewhat separated. The small mouth
-was closed rigidly, the cheeks showed hollows. Young as she was, her
-delicate feminine countenance already bore upon it the world-old
-legend--_The waiting of women_. The look did not belong to her
-individually--twenty years of life could not have branded it there. It
-was inherited from the first woman who had loved,--the first mother.
-It was the woman-look, and David recognized it. But he was almost
-seventy years old, and he sank into a chair and was soon nodding.
-
-The candle spluttered, and the faint significance of the woman's days
-on earth for the last time blended confusedly with the silence, the
-night, the wind blowing in the moonlit sedge-grass. When we bury the
-body we cut off the last light of a jewel already dimmed by death.
-
-In life Lavina had borne about her a faint suggestion of learning; it
-was said that on arriving at the Point she had brought with her a box
-of books. Some of the neighbours believed that she had been a
-schoolteacher; others that she had been reared by a relative who dealt
-in books, since the volumes she brought were all new. But Lavina never
-told them anything, and nothing was known about her, save that she came
-from a village thirty miles distant, which was on no railroad.
-
-A gust of wind flickered the flame of the candle and a drop of tallow
-fell on the coffin.
-
-Was it this supposed learning that had attracted Thomas Beckett, or the
-coiled braids of hair, or the nose, the nostrils of which used to
-expand slightly, as is the way with people who feel things keenly; or
-was it, perhaps, the sensitive hands, crossed now so patiently? In any
-case, whatever the attraction, it had ceased to hold Thomas after the
-third month; and once more in the grip of his black mood, he had been
-seen striding over the rocks, with the hair clinging to his forehead
-and his eye glowing as if from drink; and finally came the night when
-the old man and the young woman, both sleeping now so quietly, knew
-that they were deserted.
-
-Again the draught from the window reduced the light of the candle to a
-mere blue tongue, and a shadow fell across the woman's face. It
-blotted out the lips which had been on the point of revealing their
-tender secret when the blow fell; it still further shrouded the eyes,
-which through the succeeding weary months gazing from the windows of
-the alien house, had noted the rags of mist that went floating by and
-vanished--like human hopes. It blotted out the hands, eloquent of
-agony, heavy with ungiven caresses. For an instant the shadows
-obliterated the whole slight frame that until recently had carried
-beneath its heart another life. Suddenly the candle flame brightened,
-and simultaneously a cry, small, sharp, almost impudent, broke the
-silence.
-
-The old man started from his sleep. The cry was repeated. A smile so
-triumphant that it was sly, spread itself across his wrinkled visage.
-Seizing the candle which lit the room of death, he trotted into the
-room of the creature just born.
-
-Outside, the hearse stood in the moonlight. And over yonder at the
-lighthouse a boy tossed restlessly on the bed beside his mother. In
-his imagination he still saw the hearse and it filled him with dull
-questioning. Lifting himself, he laid a hand on the shoulder of his
-drowsing parent.
-
-'Why were they going to take the woman away?' he asked.
-
-'Because--why because it was necessary.'
-
-'Were they going to put her in the ground?
-
-'Yes, that also was necessary.'
-
-'But wasn't it dark under the ground, and wouldn't she be afraid?'
-
-The mother sighed in her sleep.
-
-The boy regarded her for an instant. Then propping his head on his
-hand, he fell to listening to the beat of the surf. Gradually his
-fears ceased, for each silver-lipped wave seemed to be speaking not
-alone to him, but to the dead woman.
-
-"_Rest, rest,_" they seemed to say, "_rest, rest._"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-THE SUN
-
-Old David Beckett, though he never spoke on the subject, was haunted by
-memories of a childhood passed amid scenes of refinement and wealth.
-He had a hazy impression that his father had been a gentleman of local
-distinction in a Canadian town. However, with his father's death had
-come a change in the fortunes of the family. Its members had drifted
-apart, and David himself, at the time scarcely more than a child, had
-gone to Philadelphia. Year after year he had worked in the car shops
-until the lead in the paint had affected his health. This break-down
-had occurred after his wife's death, in his fiftieth year. Reduced in
-strength he had come to the Point where one of the owners of the shops,
-in recognition of his long and faithful service, had given him a little
-house and a bit of land. This change David had welcomed, but it had
-engendered in his son Thomas a brooding discontent which had increased
-with the years.
-
-Brought up in Philadelphia until his tenth year, Thomas Beckett had
-received a rudimentary training in the public schools, and this
-training, after coming to the Point, he had managed to eke out with
-haphazard reading. But the cheerless surroundings had fostered in him
-a tendency to indulge fits of melancholy. Without visible cause, he
-would become taciturn. When he was twenty-one his father urged him to
-marry and settle down, but domestic life had small attraction for
-Thomas, and it was a surprise to the old man when he finally acted on
-the suggestion. At the time of his marriage the young lobsterman was
-thirty years old, tall and broad shouldered, with bold intelligent eyes
-gazing out from beneath heavy brows, and a moustached lip that, as he
-spoke, lifted slightly, showing the tips of the white teeth. One raw
-day he had sailed away from the Point with a cargo of lobsters, and a
-fortnight later had returned with the meek and fragile Lavina.
-
-During the short period of her wedded life the young wife had
-contributed to the house of the father and son an air of comfort.
-Geraniums had bloomed at the windows and the curtains of the front room
-had been kept white; all the beds had been covered with bright
-patch-work quilts and the dishes had been washed as soon as used and
-arranged in gleaming rows in the cupboard. But from the hour of
-Thomas's desertion, Lavina had relaxed her care of the house. Now,
-after her death, the change in it was complete. The curtains were
-dingy, the plants dead, fish-heads from the dog's dish littered the
-kitchen floor and flies buzzed about the rich messes Nora Gage was
-constantly preparing for her own consumption. The deterioration in the
-home suggested a picture by Hogarth.
-
-David Beckett was bewildered. He would have preferred absolute
-solitude to the presence of Nora Gage, but the fat woman had
-established herself with the intention of remaining and he was too old
-and too ineffectual to know how to get rid of her. Often, from a
-distance, he would stare at the house with a look of indecision, then,
-with an oath, he would start on a rapid trot for the kitchen. But once
-in the presence of the woman, his courage forsook him. With one glance
-from her little crevice eyes, Nora dominated him.
-
-However, she had one virtue. Though she ignored the appeal of hanging
-buttons and refused to patch his clothes, she fed him. For that
-matter, it was her custom to feed every living thing that came under
-her notice, the dog, the chickens, even flies. For the flies she had
-been known to scatter sugar grains, leaning heavily on a substantial
-elbow to watch the progress of the tiny meal. To old David's food she
-gave especial attention. His teeth suggested isolated stumps in a
-clearing; therefore she prepared soft foods for him, porridges and
-soups, and, while he ate, she was wont to watch him. Her jaws would
-move in sympathy and in profound contemplation she would even lick her
-lips.
-
-On Sundays Nora rolled out of bed at an early hour, and, with her
-prayer book clasped in her pudgy fingers and her too plump bust visibly
-undulating, she proceeded by slow stages to Old Harbour, where she
-attended both early mass and vespers in the ancient Catholic church.
-This church was none too well thought of by the majority of the
-townspeople, who in the latter years had turned Protestant. Though
-placed solemnly in the very centre of the town, the edifice was
-entirely nautical in character, and many were the sympathetic
-quiverings of its bell when there was a storm off Pemoquod. It seemed
-to be sounding a requiem for its invisible congregation of sailormen of
-every port and clime. Perhaps it was the sight of an occasional
-sea-faring stranger with a bold look in his eyes that attracted Nora.
-Or perhaps it was the nearness of a certain little eating-house in a
-side street, owned by a friend, Katherine Fry.
-
-The hours not occupied in divine worship, Nora was accustomed to spend
-with Katherine in a room curtained off from the public gaze. There,
-the one buttressed with unwholesome fat, the eyes playing in her
-countenance the part of little, gleaming, deep-driven nails, the other,
-lank as a skeleton, in a shawl the fringe of which suggested her own
-cookery, the friends were wont to regale themselves, Nora with rich
-cakes and pastry, Katherine with the quarters and dimes her customer
-unwillingly relinquished to her. Quarrels were frequent, for each had
-a spiteful understanding of the other's vice; but greed united them.
-
-"I tell ye," old David would remark when of a Sunday he had undisputed
-possession of his lonely grey old house and with Zarah Patch could
-enjoy to the full the pleasures of a pipe before the kitchen ingle--a
-pleasure denied him during the week--"I tell ye, Zary, I thank the Lord
-Nora has religious inclinations! As for me," he would add, hanging his
-head with a sudden change of mood, "I'm old and filled with wickedness;
-the wickedness of the world has got to the very marrow of my bones. I
-ain't fit to bring up no child, Zary."
-
-However, he did bring up the infant literally by hand. Puny, touching,
-defenceless, the tiny creature, surrounded from the moment of its birth
-with these oddly unfavourable conditions, asserted at once its
-independence. It screamed and squirmed every time Nora Gage took it
-up, so that the care of it devolved entirely upon the grandfather. But
-far from complaining, he was secretly flattered by this preference.
-"She feels the tie of blood," he would explain, "but don't you mind,
-Nora, she'll outgrow these little ways." The woman, however, laughed
-straight in his face. She was not particularly anxious that the baby
-should outgrow them.
-
-The infant early became a tyrant. She was not a very pretty child.
-From beneath a high rounded forehead peered forth two eyes dark and
-restless. They had the furtive look seen in the eyes of some animals,
-save that the pupils had a way of expanding suddenly with inquiry.
-Even before she could speak, her crowing had a strong note of
-interrogation. "Eee?" she would pipe, raising imperceptible eyebrows,
-and the old man, as well as he could for chuckling, would answer in the
-same cryptic language. She had, moreover, a very amusing and energetic
-way of creeping.
-
-When the times for her feeding arrived, she was always close beside the
-door; and there old David found her when, big silver watch in hand, he
-came hastening up from the dory. He carried the odour of the lobsters,
-and before he could do anything else he must wash his hands. Then the
-bottle must be scalded and rinsed and the milk warmed. All the
-wrinkles of his face drew together, such was the care with which he
-performed these operations; and eager-eyed, occasionally fretting if he
-were late or particularly slow, the infant watched him from her place
-on the floor. Presently he lifted her; then what a picture of peace!
-
-With both hands she clutched the bottle and a soft gurgling, similar to
-the purring of a cat, filled the room. She laughed, and the look of
-rapturous content which filled her face was reflected in the
-countenance of the grandfather. They looked oddly, touchingly alike.
-Occasionally it was necessary for him to draw the bottle away in order
-that she might take breath, and at such times she either pursued it
-with her rosy, clinging mouth, or, being partially satisfied, turned to
-thrust her fingers between his lips or to pull his beard. Weary as he
-was from the labour that had occupied him since four in the morning,
-nothing could have prevailed upon him to relinquish these ministrations
-to his granddaughter.
-
-When she was nine months old, he had her christened in the Catholic
-church before a figure of St. Anthony, which seemed to his anxious mind
-to be of a friendly mien. But it was with no idea of turning her over
-to the church. Her religion when she grew up should be a thing of her
-own choosing. Meanwhile he hearkened to the persuasions of Nora Gage,
-and the child was baptized Rachel Beckett in honour of his dead wife.
-After that event, however, the housekeeper lapsed into her former state
-of indifference; and, neglected on the one hand, and foolishly indulged
-on the other, the child's life flowed on until her fifth year. When
-she was five years old a change dawned for her. In the care of the boy
-from the lighthouse she went to the district school, where she was
-enrolled as a pupil.
-
-Lizzie Goodenough never abbreviated her son's name. She called him
-boldly André Garins. But when he gave this name at school, the older
-boys put tongue in cheek. He was an exceedingly handsome lad, with a
-woodsy grace. Moreover, his ears were slightly pointed like a fawn's;
-nor did the likeness end there, for his eyes under the thick mat of
-hair had a wild and impenetrable look and his soft arched lips seemed
-formed for other speech than that of human beings. When addressed, he
-would either twist his fingers in a kind of wordless agony, or take
-fleetly to his heels. He was considered an "innocent" by the folk of
-the Point.
-
-He led Rachel to the school, her tiny cold hand resting noncommittally
-in his, and left her stranded before the teacher's desk. But that
-brisk person frightened the child and she became as restless as a
-little trapped animal. She refused to learn her letters, she refused
-to learn to count; André Garins, stealthily on the watch, was ashamed
-of her. But one day she heard the teacher explaining a point in
-geography by means of a map on the wall and her eyes suddenly dilated.
-All at once those monotonous recitations, to which she was wont to shut
-her ears, those garbled descriptions of mountains, oceans, and
-climates, assumed a startling significance. In that map grimed by
-smoke and the breath of generations of children, in that square of
-painted canvas, with its spots of blue for the water, its spots of
-yellow and pink for the land, its black veins for rivers, and its fuzzy
-lines, like caterpillars, for the mountains, she beheld what was an
-actual vision of the actual world. And this brilliancy of the
-imagination, this power to touch with life and colour any fact that
-penetrated her brain at all, proved to be a special gift. But she was
-too young to understand the liberation that comes through books.
-
-The schoolroom seemed to her the one point of stagnation in an active
-world. She longed to the point of tears for the sight of trees of
-which she was temporarily deprived, and for the smell of the outdoor
-air. The teacher finally in despair left her alone. With something
-disconcerting in her extraordinarily intelligent eyes, she gazed about
-her at the other pupils as if she dimly recognised herself as belonging
-to a distinct and lonely species. Perhaps some subtle power of
-reasoning underneath the dark hair which grew in a point on her
-forehead, revealed to her that their needs were not her needs. As
-instinctively as a plant, she selected from the atmosphere surrounding
-her what she most required for growth; and idleness offered opportunity
-for observations, shrewd, penetrating, constant.
-
-Lizzie Goodenough's son was the one child admitted to her friendship.
-In winter she permitted him to drag her to and from school on his sled,
-and in summer she allowed him to string thimble-berries for her on a
-long grass, which could be smuggled under the desk out of sight of the
-teacher and eaten at odd moments, when one stood in such dire need of
-refreshment in the dry country of learning. But, strictly speaking,
-she had no companions.
-
-For her grandfather a warm strong love beat in her little heart. Often
-she would clasp him about the neck with one thin arm, and with the
-other hand against his cheek, would gaze intently upon him until a
-simultaneous gleam of laughter shot into both their faces. Then she
-would nestle to him, quivering with a divine mirth which was the mask
-of diviner tears.
-
-For Nora Gage, Rachel entertained a silent dislike that expressed
-itself in manoeuvres to keep out of her way. If Nora entered a room,
-Rachel, if possible, left it. If the housekeeper, in her flapping
-slippers, shuffled out into the yard and cast herself down on the seat
-beneath the apple tree, where Rachel was playing, the child immediately
-gathered up her pebbles and shells and gravely sought another place.
-She spoke no oftener to the housekeeper than was necessary, and when
-she did speak, a weight of scorn trembled in her voice as if some
-feeling were silently gathering power. Nora Gage looked upon her with
-her little eyes, which were shrewd and meditative, exactly as a pig's
-are shrewd and meditative, and was apparently indifferent. But it was
-inconceivable that she did not hate her.
-
-A part of a battered wreck and a figure-head were, in the truest sense,
-Rachel's companions. Both were rooted fast where they had come ashore,
-but before they had reached that expanse of sand, the sea had had its
-way with them. They were by no means parts of the same craft, but
-torn, hurled, gnawed, they had been brought, by the rollicking mood of
-the ocean, past the fierce skirting of rocks outside and dashed there
-together on the shore of the bay, to become the playmates of a little
-child.
-
-Timber by timber the wreck had been washed small, and sometimes after a
-storm streams of rusty water that resembled blood trickled from its
-various bolts. Rachel, climbing out upon the wreck, sometimes felt the
-shallow water sucking between its timbers urging it to put to sea
-again; and, conscious of the tremble of eagerness in the poor maimed
-thing, she would pat the beams in passionate sympathy, and lay her
-cheek to them. Often she tried to dislodge the great hulk by placing
-her shoulder against it, and once, when the sea sucked off a plank and
-the tide flung it on the shore several rods away, she spent the
-following morning in hauling the dissevered portion back to the wreck
-and trying to hammer it into position. There was in her a curious
-susceptibility to the pathos of things.
-
-Here and there about the wreck vestiges of paint appeared, and a faint
-assemblage of letters formed the name _Defender_ on what had been the
-prow. This paint Rachel brought to temporary brightness by rubbing it
-with a corner of her apron dipped in sea water. The sand that clogged
-the ribs of the wreck she removed daily with a shovel. In brief, no
-waning sovereign, already in the clutch of death could have been waited
-upon by a trusty handmaiden with more patience and love. In her day
-she had sailed many a stormy sea, that ship, and without doubt had made
-many a difficult port; but now in the days of her nothingness to be
-loved with a love passing that of sailor or captain (for in such
-affection there is ever something of the seaman's pride in the
-capabilities of his craft), to be loved, forsooth, with a deep feminine
-tenderness,--surely, if comfort were possible to those broken bolts and
-spars, the wreck was comforted. And, testifying to the gallantry
-inherent in every timber, all that remained of her responded to the
-thrill of the child's spirit. It was as if the wreck heard commands
-summoning her to deeds of spiritual daring. The stumps of her masts
-she lifted to the sky with an air of defiance, she resisted the
-encroachments of the sand; and in the upward sweep of her lines toward
-her broken bow, there was indomitable courage and pride invincible.
-Valour answered valour and the sun shone gently on the incongruous
-playmates, on the wreck whose earthly voyages were over, and on the
-child whose life's journey had scarcely begun.
-
-For the figure-head, Rachel entertained a somewhat different sentiment.
-It was evidently a bit of German carving, and represented a robust
-goddess with face lifted to the sky. Full waves of hair blew back from
-the face; the chin was gone, the nose was gone, but in the gaze of the
-eyes was blank, unquestioning triumph. She was clad in swirling
-drapery and a breastplate of overlapping scales, and in the one arm
-that remained to her she carried a sceptre tipped with a diminutive
-crown. Rachel admired the way the figure-head stood proudly erect,
-even strained backwards, and sometimes grasping a stick, she paced the
-sands in grotesque imitation of the wooden woman. But more often she
-sat before her lost in silent contemplation. She saw her fastened to
-the prow of a vessel, "great-kneed, deep-breasted," with lips and eyes
-stung by the spray; she saw her bowing deep into the trough of a wave,
-her gaze as she sank still intrepidly lifted to heaven; and she saw her
-rise again, dripping, all gilded by the light of the sun. The
-exhilaration of life and hope were still in the figure-head, wrought
-into her with the carving, it would seem, and these qualities her later
-experience in the brine had heightened to a kind of glory, so that now,
-unmindful that she was stranded, she stared out at the dawns and the
-evenings and the far-away twinkling stars with the same undaunted look
-of conquest.
-
-This look, branded upon the figure-head and smitten into her round
-staring pupils, had its effect upon the child. Often and often when
-there was a storm off Pemoquod and the green water ran fifty feet high
-with the spray twice as high, grinding and pounding over the rocks and
-even entering the bay, until its strong death-fingers reached her very
-feet, Rachel stared at the waters while a fierce exultation swelled her
-little heart.
-
-Persistent in her childish desires, imperious when they were crossed,
-at all other times gentle and tractable, Rachel up to her ninth year
-comprehended no force superior to that of which she was conscious in
-herself. Her grandfather she could sway by a word, and there were ways
-she knew of compelling Nora Gage; as for André, he was a slave, to be
-ruled by kindness for the most part and blows when necessary, blows
-aimed straight at his wild dark face. In her domain she tolerated no
-insubordination. But one night the pettiness of this domain and its
-purely human limits were revealed to her.
-
-When whiskey got the better of Captain Daniels at the lighthouse, and
-this happened occasionally, Lizzie Goodenough, with a strong arm, could
-draw the oil and tend the beacon. If truth were told, it was because
-he had recognised her possibilities for usefulness in this direction,
-that the captain, sixteen years before, had taken pity on the girl and
-her newly-born infant. At the time he was just recovering from what he
-termed "a bad spell," and Lizzie appealed to him as capable and sturdy;
-moreover, she was very handsome, with a frown set squarely between her
-brows and an ominous light in her glance. He had never married her.
-Now that her boy had grown large enough to go on watch at a pinch, the
-arrangement was even more advantageous.
-
-On the night in question, Rachel, after much worrying of her
-grandfather and Lizzie, obtained their consent to go on watch with
-André. She mounted with him to the lantern.
-
-The immense corrugated lenses flashed diamond tints of inconceivable
-brilliancy. There, in rims of living colour, in circles of crystal,
-that white gush of light that flooded the rocks below, was born. There
-was the glitter and clash of its nightly cradle. The tower creaked and
-the sea thundered like cannon, ghostly finger-tips tapped now and then
-on the glass; a night bird, allured by the radiance, beat out its
-brains on the costal.
-
-Presently André descended to the whitewashed room just below the
-lantern and Rachel stumbled after him.
-
-"The plunger won't need windin' again till morning," he told her; "we
-can rest now."
-
-But Rachel, squeezing her hands together, sat bolt upright, given over
-to a mighty, new, inspiring sensation. She was intoxicated with a
-sense of the power of man. Finally she laughed aloud; then she glanced
-at André. But, forgetful of all responsibility, the lad sat with his
-head against the wall, while the breath passed peacefully between his
-lips. Instantly Rachel was on her feet. She trembled all over. How
-about the ships at sea now! He could just talk big about the
-lighthouse, but he couldn't keep it,--not he! Then on a sudden she
-craned toward him, and from the vital, virile, little face the gleam of
-anger disappeared, for on the lad's forehead, beneath his mat of hair,
-and on the chin where it jutted in below the mouth, she saw that look
-of helplessness with which a relentless Fate sometimes brands her
-children.
-
-Actuated by an almost maternal impulse, Rachel divested herself of her
-bit of shawl and laid it over the shoulders of the sleeping boy. Then
-she resumed the watch, and with every hour ticked forth by the clock on
-the wall, her sense of responsibility increased till the flame in the
-lantern was duplicated by another flame alight in a little human heart.
-
-It was toward daylight when she stepped out on the balcony which
-encircled the tower just below the lantern. But the world she looked
-out upon was no longer the world with which she was familiar. At that
-hour a mysterious, quiet influence was abroad. Far below to the
-northward she descried her grandfather's house, grey, closed, silent;
-and she saw the silver loop of the bay. Inland the pine trees were
-arranged in dark, meditative groups, and the rocks, no longer
-formidable, in that wan half-light appeared like cattle that had
-trooped down to the water to drink. Here and there, perched on the
-loftiest crags, were the sentinel crows. These, solitary, motionless,
-accentuated the universal air of waiting.
-
-All at once she held her breath. Across the clear blue of the sky lay,
-like lines of smoke, two or three filmy clouds. From a light pink
-these were turning to rose. Gradually the stars, one by one,
-paled--went out. Then an abrupt happening. A curve of crimson
-appeared above the horizon; this widened until it resembled an eye;
-then a full glowing countenance swung clear of the ocean and rays
-sprang from it. The whole sky began to blush. The ocean, a moment
-before a dull grey, flushed, and tiny ripples covered its surface;
-ships, hitherto invisible, appeared on its gently agitated bosom. And
-this infusion of vitality reached inland, quivering to gold in the
-tree-tops, trembling to crimson in the coarse grass, invading with
-radiance the most secret recess of the tiniest shell on the sand. The
-whole shore was illumined with the lavender and gold of the dawn; and
-simultaneously, from every quarter, rose the crows with their raucous
-_caw caw_ in greeting to the oncoming day.
-
-Suddenly through the weary frame of the child surged tides of
-exultation; it was as if, after the dreary watch, the sun rose in her.
-She stretched out her arms, and, for an instant, the sun and the child
-stared at each other. Then its fierce glow overpowered her, its fiery
-shafts blinded her; and covering her eyes, she stumbled below,
-whimpering, conscious of a dull ache, a shame, a sullen fear which she
-could not comprehend. Something hitherto unconquered was vanquished in
-her heart, so that never afterwards did she move with quite the same
-feeling of supremacy.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-AMID BLEAK SURROUNDINGS
-
-Pemoquod lighthouse is on a point projecting into the ocean. Standing
-in the lantern of the lighthouse and looking toward the east, one
-beholds the ocean with nothing between him and Europe except an
-inconsiderable island or two; looking toward the west, one beholds
-John's Bay. On the ocean side of the Point is a long line of broken
-cliffs ranged for a certain distance in tiers, like the seats in a vast
-amphitheatre. Then abruptly this formation ends and the cliffs tower
-up into separate crags,--monsters that forever contemplate the sea with
-rage. There between the water and the rocks is a constant contest.
-The rocks are like giant animals; the sinuous waves, leaping and
-roaring, like unearthly reptiles. Between the rock-beasts and the
-wave-reptiles is unabating feud. After each conflict the waves seem to
-hiss with fury, the rocks to drip with gore by reason of the masses of
-red seaweed with which they are covered over.
-
-It is curious to rise from a seat in the amphitheatre where you have
-been lulled by the light touch of the wind and the soft lapping of the
-waves, to contemplate two or three rods beyond this scene of mighty
-wrath. It is more curious still to stroll through expanses of
-sedgegrass to the other side of the Point and behold the bay. A quiet
-little bay it seems, with its diversified edge of sandy beach and
-tumble of small rocks, with its lobstermen's sheds clinging to the
-shore and further inland the houses. From the bay only the blank walls
-of these houses can be seen, for the women, with reason, regard the sea
-as an enemy to be ignored during peaceful indoor hours, and hardly a
-window of the modest dwellings looks toward the water.
-
-During the summer and part of the winter, the bay is sprinkled far and
-wide with the sails of fishing dories. Into this pocket of the sea,
-always conveniently open, nature brings food for man in the form of
-marine creatures,--lobsters, crabs, and a clutter of fish. The bay,
-with its air of mild domesticity, is man's domain; the sea outside,
-God's alone.
-
-Never the less the region in winter is harsh and unfavoured. The wind
-pipes down the chimneys and clamours on the crags and fairly howls in
-giant witch-fashion on the ocean. The people go about their duties
-with shoulders shrugged up, with purple noses and freezing toes. In
-the houses, they can scarcely hear one another speak on the windiest
-days, and conversation is impossible anywhere near the Point; this life
-fosters in them a solitariness of the soul.
-
-With motley garments, sometimes quilts and shawls, strapped and buckled
-around them, the few who pursue lobster-fishing as a vocation fuss
-around their pounds or, out on the bay, haul their pots and swear.
-Their oaths mingle with the gale and the dashing waters and even freeze
-in mid air to come to land later and form icicles. At least, this was
-Rachel's fancy, and when she saw the bits of ice at the window ledges,
-she reached forth an arm and plucking them, dissolved them in her soft
-warm mouth, as if she would dissolve at the same time her grandfather's
-probable wrath. This wrath, being so justified, however, had something
-righteous in it, which Rachel was not slow to admit. Certainly it was
-not right that a man's living should be so hard a thing to win, and
-what was there for it but to exorcise these demons of wind and tide
-with language harsh enough to fit the occasion?
-
-David Beckett, despite his gentleness, was a prodigious oath maker;
-indeed, some of his oaths were so picturesque as to have come into
-general circulation, a fact which afforded Rachel not a little
-satisfaction. To be able to invent such oaths, she felt instinctively,
-required an imagination of no uncertain order.
-
-In winter her cheeks grew ruddy from the wind, tears caused by the cold
-sometimes stood in her eyes and the skin on the backs of her hands
-cracked until the knuckles bled. But she was very hardy and healthy.
-She had a fondness for mingling the impressions of form and colour and
-scent which bespoke a very sensuous temperament.
-
-The old man's delight in her was boundless. Whenever she approached
-him a wonderful tenderness illuminated his face; his blue eyes sparkled
-and a set of wrinkles, entirely new, shot out from their corners like
-rockets. On her part the child returned his feeling with a depth of
-affection, startling and almost tragic in one so young. She seemed to
-give the old man something of the vigour of childhood, while into her
-passed a little of the seriousness of age.
-
-They were constant companions. Sometimes in order not to be separated
-from her, David took her out in the dory. There, while the boat rose
-and sank and rose again, and Zarah Patch's nephew phlegmatically set or
-hauled the pots, the old man sought to answer her numerous questions,
-suggested for the most part, by her chance study of the family Bible.
-
-"Does God raise up the lobsters?" she asked one day, "the lobsters we
-kill."
-
-The old man grinned. "No, I never heard that he did," he answered;
-"lobsters ain't much 'count save as they feed man, I guess," he added.
-
-The child relapsed into a sulky silence. After that she began putting
-back into the sea half-dead fish that she found on the shore and
-patiently straightening out the legs of flies discovered in webs.
-"It's man alone that's saved," she thought with a pang.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-THE BARNACLE
-
-When she was ten years old Rachel left the country school, and when she
-was eighteen she graduated from the High School in Old Harbour. Her
-course of study in that institution had been protracted by reason of
-the frequent spells of bad weather which, for weeks together, had kept
-her a prisoner at the Point. These interruptions she had accepted
-philosophically, for she had preferred to gain knowledge in an
-unhampered fashion, to look about her, to ask questions, to read the
-books of her own choosing. She was an exceedingly headstrong creature
-and had anyone wished to manage her he would have experienced great
-difficulty. However, apparently, no one had such an unreasonable wish.
-
-Her lean little face was charming. With its broad forehead and high
-cheek bones it suggested a type of the Renaissance. The expression in
-her eyes was candid and thoughtful. Her nose was straight, her upper
-lip short, her mouth full and handsome in line, though, in meaning,
-asleep. Activity of the mind gives character to the eye, activity of
-the emotions individuality to the lips, and Rachel Beckett had not
-lived emotionally. She was still chained heavily by her youth, for
-youth has its shackles as well as age.
-
-It was about this time that André Garins approached her with an
-important proposition. He came leaping down the path from the
-lighthouse and found her seated in the lobsterman's door. In the
-kitchen Nora could be heard scolding. Occasionally the words were
-drowned in guttural sobs.
-
-"It's her pork pie," Rachel explained. "I got to reading and the fat
-just bubbled up before I knew. Now I'm going to Old Harbour to get her
-another," she added in a louder voice, "Want to come along?"
-
-André nodded. He had attained his full height without losing the
-slimness of adolescence. "There's something I want to talk to you
-about," he said shyly.
-
-But he did not broach the subject at once; instead he said tentatively
-as the two breasted the high wind which was all alive with the tang of
-the sea, and in which the girl's garments rattled like the rigging of a
-ship, "It's good of you to get her another pork pie; why do you do it?"
-
-"Because," Rachel answered with spirit, "people once in a while ought
-to have what they want--if it's only pork pie."
-
-André regarded her beautiful face with dull curiosity. "Then you're
-not doing it because you're sorry for her?" he asked.
-
-"No," she answered shortly; "principle."
-
-But the abstract had no meaning for André; he always thought in
-straight lines and his thoughts were convertible into actions. Now he
-took up the matter which had brought him to her.
-
-"Mother thinks you and I could set up shop together," he said. "She
-thinks I can paint what are called 'souvenirs'; you know I paint very
-well, and you could take charge of the candy and fruit. She thinks we
-might get quite a little trade from the hotel people all about here, if
-we opened a shop in that unused barn of Shattuck's."
-
-The proposition appealed to Rachel mightily. Now that the schooldays
-were past she found herself much too frequently in the presence of Nora
-Gage and quarrels were constant. If the young girl had had her way she
-would have bundled the so-called housekeeper out of the door and have
-done the work herself, but old David was fastidious in the matter of
-her hands and cherished the idea of one day seeing her a "lady."
-André's plan seemed to offer scope for her energy, she hailed it
-joyfully. A week later the youthful shop keepers were established in
-their odd quarters.
-
-The situation of the unused barn was magnificent. It stood on the top
-of a high turfy hill which overlooked both the ocean and the bay. On
-going around it a narrow path, almost hidden by the tall grass, was
-discovered, and this path led directly to that bit of the bay shore
-where were the figure-head and the wreck. The door of the barn
-commanded the road. There was something in the bleakness of the
-situation that took hold on the fancy. The barn had long been an
-object of popular interest. It was toned by the weather to the
-beautiful grey of a dove's wing. It leaned lightly to one side. Its
-two front windows were like empty eye-sockets. As one approached it,
-climbing around the crumbling foundation of what years before had been
-a house, he imagined it the retreat of birds of prey.
-
-The only steeds housed here were the horses of the wind, in the pauses
-of the storms that swept the Point. The barn was supposed to be
-haunted. Therefore the scene that greeted the first curious visitors,
-struck pleasantly on their sight.
-
-A bit of sail-cloth bearing the inscription: _Souvenirs And
-Confectionery_ appeared over one window, and a little trail of smoke
-issued from the other. Just inside the door was Rachel. She stood
-behind an improvised counter of new boards on which was ranged a file
-of golden oranges. Oranges and girl, how they lit the gloom! When not
-engaged in waiting on a customer, and her duties in this direction were
-of the lightest, Rachel made a pretence of sewing, though oftener than
-not the sewing was abandoned for a book. The range of her reading at
-this time was remarkable. Like her father, she read everything that
-came her way with a kind of tragic eagerness. Frequently closing the
-book and leaning her elbows on the counter, she would gaze straight
-ahead, while the questioning look deepened in her eyes. In the
-background where a ray of light fell André painted the lighthouse in
-garish colours on the bosom of a heaven-tinted shell.
-
-What a pair they were, to be sure! What a bouquet of innocence, youth
-and utterly worthless endeavour!
-
-The enterprise brought in little, though during July and August people
-came from the Ocean View House and even from remoter hotels on outlying
-islands. At this André laughed in his heart, but after the novelty had
-worn off, Rachel was less pleased. The money that she earned bought
-her a new dress and hat; but it was not sufficient to lighten the
-burden on her grandfather's shoulders. Unable longer to bear the
-hardships of lobster-fishing, old David had sold his pots. Taking part
-of his scant savings he had bought four cows. He now peddled milk from
-one end of the Point to the other. Rachel sometimes looked at him with
-sudden fear, though their poverty she realized but vaguely, never
-having known anything different. She mended his clothes and lavished
-upon him every care. She opened her heart to him, and in spirit he
-dwelt there as in a wide, sunny room. But, though he knew her heart,
-neither he nor anyone else, knew what was passing in her mind.
-Sometimes with a vigorous motion she would clasp her hands behind her
-head while she stared through the doorway of the barn; then she would
-slip away, taking the winding path to the bay, and remain there for
-hours.
-
-The groups of rocks on the bay shore differed from those fronting the
-ocean. They were more sad than threatening in form and were covered
-thickly with seaweed, like enormous heads with hair. In this hair
-sparkled iridescent drops left by the receding tide; these drops
-resembled jewels. The rocks, indeed, were decked like the heads of
-women, and by reason of the long tresses of seaweed that trailed from
-them and that undulated on the surface of the water, an uneasy
-restlessness seemed to pervade them.
-
-Rachel would eye them gloomily: then, flinging herself down, she would
-observe the various forms of life in the little pools of water where
-floated crabs and jellyfish. In the prominent eyes of the crab she saw
-the desire for its prey. Looking upward, attracted by the sinister
-screech of gulls, she saw them fluttering about the nest of a
-sanderling which they pillaged of its eggs. Letting her glance fall
-again she studied the little bell-shaped barnacles, like tiny huts,
-which everywhere adhered to the rocks in settlements. As the water
-approached, one after another of the doors of these wee huts opened and
-a hand, vaporish, white as light, reached forth and gathered in the
-necessary provender. Everywhere, everything received what it needed to
-sustain life. She alone was starved.
-
-With these thoughts surging in her brain, Rachel would make her way
-back to the barn. There, with cheeks puffed out, stooping over his
-work, she would find André. One day when she entered the barn he
-greeted her with a gleeful announcement: he had sold five little shells
-and one big one during her absence. She turned away. She had often
-watched the faces of the summer people: they bought the shells out of
-pity for André, or perhaps, because they admired his handsome face. As
-art, she suspected, the shells were nothing. Why could he not see?
-
-"You have no ambition," she said surlily, "there are schools where one
-can learn to do this sort of thing, I suppose. You ought to want to
-get away and study."
-
-Amazed, he looked up at her. "But the shells sell all right," he
-remarked. "I paint well enough for that."
-
-She made no answer and sparks of some sort glowed in her eyes. She
-shook her head at him.
-
-"You're just like a barnacle," she cried passionately, "_it_ clings to
-a rock, _it_ lives in a corner; everyday when the tide comes in, _it_
-opens its door and gathers in food. In the same way every morning you
-wait for the city people. You open your door, you reach out your
-hand--like this, and you take in the pennies. Bah! is that enough for
-you?"
-
-"Well, isn't it?" he asked, and in his eyes, as he looked at her,
-dawned a certain yearning softness.
-
-But she turned away. "Then stay on your rock," she flashed out; "I
-want more."
-
-He came up to her and laid his hand on her arm.
-
-"What do you want?" he asked.
-
-She looked at him and seeing tears in his eyes, she turned away
-sullenly. "I don't know," she answered, "but I want life--more'n what
-the sea brings me."
-
-Then suddenly she broke from him and darted into the twilight.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-THE FIGURE-HEAD GAINS AN ADMIRER
-
-The field where old David put the cows to pasture lay a comparatively
-short distance from the house, in the direction of the bay. But
-Rachel, leading a large white cow by a rope, had elected to go round by
-"the barn."
-
-"Come along, Betty," she cried, as she turned into the main road
-dragging the surprised animal after her.
-
-A dense fog obscured every landmark. Looking backward, she could just
-discern the placid light of the cow's eyes below the sickle of its
-horns; looking downward, she could make out her own feet and the stalks
-of grass and flowers beside the road. Moisture clung to the grass in
-pendant beads, and there was a fugitive flash of colour here and there
-close to the ground. All else was sheeted in the white pall. Groups
-of firs looked like spectres, the bushes covered with fluffs of mist
-looked like phantoms; Rachel herself appeared like a ghost.
-
-The sea hurled itself against the cliffs. Now and again when it
-suspended its roar, the moaning of the fog bell could be heard. In
-these intervals of comparative quiet the surging fury in the girl's
-heart gave way to waves of melancholy. She had quarrelled with Nora
-Gage that morning and the colour was still high in her cheeks.
-Presently she came to a pause, stamping on the ground; the next moment,
-however, she was moved to laughter. In a sty beside the road a group
-of pigs was nozzling in a trough. One sat up and looked at her with
-Nora's eyes.
-
-Somewhat improved in humour, she went on up the road. When she came
-opposite the barn, she clambered around the ruined cellar foundation,
-and after tying the cow, entered the little shop. A fire had been
-lighted in the battered stove and sent forth a cheerful flicker. Early
-as it was, André was already at work; he was decorating a smooth
-egg-shaped stone from which he had first removed its wrapping of
-seaweed. He glanced up and a light leaped to his eyes. He looked at
-Rachel with smiling intentness as if to satisfy himself that she had
-not changed in any way over night. Finally he spoke:
-
-"If you'd come a little sooner, Rachel, you'd have seen something."
-
-She spread her fingers above the stove and turned her neck from side to
-side with a slow and graceful movement as the heat rushed into her face.
-
-"What would I have seen?"
-
-Jumping from his stool, André poured some coffee from a pot into a cup;
-then he offered the cup to her.
-
-"You look cold," he said, gazing directly into her eyes; "are you
-cold?" And taking her shawl, he shook the moisture from it. There was
-always in his attitude toward her a kind of awe.
-
-"What would I have seen?" she repeated without glancing at him.
-
-"Why, a stranger was here. He'd been making a sketch of the
-figure-head; he showed it to me."
-
-"I don't see what right he had to draw it without my permission," she
-murmured jealously. "Was it a good picture, André?"
-
-The lad looked doubtful. "It was all little scratchy lines," he said.
-
-Rachel brooded for some minutes over the stove; then she rose. "There
-won't be anyone here this morning," she announced, "so I sha'n't come
-back. I've got to take Betty to pasture. Buttercup--all the
-others--got hold of some sorrel; they're sick."
-
-She went to the door. The fog was so thick that it looked like cotton.
-The wild roses that bloomed here and there made delicate pink patterns
-on this white. From the barn the sea no longer could be heard, the
-complaint of the fog bell could be caught only faintly. Overhead,
-through the mysterious whiteness, could just be discerned the pale disc
-of the sun. The girl made her way through the mist as through a
-tangible substance. She took the path to the beach and the cow
-followed her placidly, the tall wet grass striking against its sides
-and its udder swinging like a pendulum. Rachel slipped along the wet
-path and climbed stealthily to the top of the first rock.
-
-There, sitting on the wreck near the figure-head, was the stranger; but
-he was not sketching. Instead, his head, from which the cap had
-fallen, was bent forward and he was carefully burying in the sand what
-appeared to be the scraps of a letter. When he had finished this
-operation a kind of humorous relief was manifest all over him. A
-passenger boat steamed down the bay; a line of smoke followed it. The
-vessel was invisible, but the smoke lay in the fog a trail of black.
-The young man turned his head to observe it, and at that instant Rachel
-started and the cow behind her made a movement.
-
-He looked up.
-
-Poised on the summit of the rock, with the horns of the cow up-curving
-about her feet, with the fog clinging to her dress of faded blue and
-undulating about her in clouds, she resembled a figure of the Virgin in
-a crescent moon.
-
-The pupils of the stranger's eyes, which were of a living, magnetic
-black dashed with fiery sparks, dilated; and two perpendicular lines,
-which started from the root of his nose, deepened to grooves on his
-forehead. He got to his feet, his massive head with its hair thrown
-back upraised toward her. Touched all over with a subjugating power, a
-grace more penetrating than beauty, he stared, a sort of animal.
-
-As for Rachel, something of his excitement was communicated to her.
-For another instant she paused, held there by the mere force of his
-gaze. Then she turned and descending from the rock, led the cow round
-into the open space. A close observer might have seen that she wavered
-slightly, like one who tastes of wine for the first time.
-
-The spell, however, was broken for the stranger. Unconsciously, with
-his lightning glance, he saw that there was a scratch on the back of
-one of her hands, that their flesh was rough and that there were
-freckles across her nose. She was just a strong, healthy, handsome
-lass; and, with the fickleness of a child, he abruptly turned his
-attention elsewhere. With excessive care he moved a small box, to
-which a telephone was attached, to a position of greater safety.
-
-Rachel watched him warily. Growing within her was an odd sense of
-defiance, and this feeling triumphed finally over her natural shyness.
-
-"Did you sketch the figure-head?" she asked all in a breath. Then a
-wave of colour rose in her cheeks. She stood before him in a trance of
-noble embarrassment.
-
-"Why yes, I did," he returned. He took a book from his pocket, opened
-it to a certain page and presented it to her. The book was filled, all
-but that page, with drawings of little instruments.
-
-She slowly approached leading the cow. He turned to her his face,
-framed in its curling beard. "I'm a pretty poor excuse for an artist,"
-he began.
-
-"That figure-head belongs to me," she interrupted, handing the book
-back.
-
-A second time he fixed his attention upon her and two tiny stars of
-laughter shot into his eyes. "Does it, indeed?" he remarked; there was
-almost a caress in the words.
-
-"Yes, my grandfather saved it and set it up here," she affirmed. She
-breathed quickly and every moment her shyness and her anger deepened.
-
-"It appears to be an interesting bit of carving." Stealing over this
-great giant as he frankly studied her was something of the air of a
-lazy lion. "I should say someone carved it who loved to carve," he
-added. Then, with an idea of giving her a chance to recover
-countenance, he considerately turned his gaze in the direction of the
-bay.
-
-"What--what are you doing now?" she asked quickly; for her spirit was
-roused and it behooved her to recover dignity.
-
-"Well, I hoped to be able to get some of those fishermen to take me out
-in a boat for a certain purpose, but they can't see my signal and the
-fog doesn't lift."
-
-He seated himself on the wreck and began to touch up his drawing of the
-figure-head, then he fell to making a tentative sketch of the
-indistinct figures in the dories out on the water.
-
-Had he made the slightest effort to detain her in conversation, Rachel
-certainly would have turned on her heel; as it was, drawn on by her
-curiosity, she moored the cow with a stone on the rope, and came nearer.
-
-"All this is out of my line," he explained, "but I like to try my hand
-at it once in a way." And, indeed, he looked hugely pleased with his
-effort, as he held the paper at arm's length to study the effect.
-
-Rachel watched him and now and then her eyes travelled to his face with
-the clear dispassionate gaze of a child. His cap lay on the sand at
-his feet and his dishevelled locks moved in the wind above a face that
-was simple and bold. His finger-tips were stained with acid, his
-clothing was a bit careless; a spray of Prince's Feather, freshly
-picked, trailed from the button-hole of his coat. About them was
-complete silence except for the plashing of the waves and an occasional
-muffled cry from the almost invisible lobstermen. The fog wrapped them
-round.
-
-Presently he reached a point beyond which he was unable to carry his
-sketch, and, abandoning it, he began turning the pages of the book at
-first slowly, then with increased attention. At last he paused. His
-eyes narrowed and the perpendicular wrinkle on his forehead deepened.
-He read over some notes. He struck out a word here, inserted another
-there; then commenced to write rapidly on the margin of the page and
-for several minutes the scratching of his pencil continued. It was
-apparent that like a hunter he was running down his quarry, and leaping
-over many a ditch and rock in his excitement; it was apparent, too,
-that he had entered a world in which woman was unknown.
-
-Finally, Rachel's interest expressed itself in an involuntary sigh, and
-he raised his head with a dawning consciousness of her presence. Tiny
-drops of moisture, like diamond dust, glittered in her hair. He
-studied them; then met the brightness of her oval-shaped eye.
-
-In his turn embarrassed, he hitched his shoulders and laughed.
-
-"I forgot that you were here," he said.
-
-Until that moment she had not resented his indifference, but now, when
-he voiced it, she felt a hot sense of chagrin. He had, she considered,
-been pointedly lacking in courtesy. Moving away, she took up the rope
-of the cow.
-
-He got to his feet. "By Jove, I don't see how it happened," he said
-simply.
-
-It was the touch required. She halted and stood playing with the rope.
-
-"I got to thinking of this," he continued, and he laid his hand on the
-box to which the telephone receiver was attached. "It's something I've
-been working out. I want to test it. It's a fine coast for the
-purpose. Plenty of submerged rocks, I should say," and he gazed about
-him.
-
-She also swept the rolling leagues of misty emptiness, but with the
-glance of one who is familiar with them, then her eyes, wistful and
-unutterably intense, went to his. There was something about the life
-and mentality of this man that startled and stirred her, something in
-his appearance that seemed to speak of a nature unshackled, gigantic.
-
-"I asked that boy at the old barn up the road where I could get hold of
-a boat and someone to row," he continued, "but he didn't tell me."
-
-She turned from him. "I'll take you," she volunteered, "this
-afternoon."
-
-At this the stranger showed a row of brilliant teeth. "Why
-that--that's fine," he said. Once more his manner was gentle, almost
-caressing.
-
-To demonstrate his gratitude he tore from the book the sketch of the
-figure-head and presented it to her.
-
-She took it without exhibiting any emotion. Then, leading the cow, she
-disappeared around a boulder. A moment later, however, she appeared on
-its summit, and the cow pushed up behind her so that his first
-miraculous impression was repeated.
-
-"What time," she asked, "do you want to go?"
-
-He moved his lips without speaking; a magical light had dawned on his
-world.
-
-"Why, about three o'clock," he answered,--pausing between the words.
-
-And the next moment she was no longer there. The fog had closed over
-the spot of the vision.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-CONCERNING ALEXANDER EMIL ST. IVES
-
-In the make-up of this Alexander Emil St. Ives, who carried his name
-like a flaunting feather, his father played small part. During the
-life of the elder St. Ives, the family had lived on a farm in Rhode
-Island and the father, a dour, narrow man, had laid his commands upon
-the soil and had tilled it with his will as with an agricultural
-implement; in bad seasons often he had been the one farmer in the
-neighbourhood who harvested crops.
-
-There were two sons. The elder boy, Edgar, resembled the father,
-though built on smaller, neater lines, with a face shaped like an egg.
-He had much of the father's obstinate force united to a faculty for
-grasping and retaining what seemed to him worth while. The younger son
-resembled the mother.
-
-Mrs. St. Ives, timid, valiant creature, was incapable of not loving.
-For her first-born she entertained an affection purely maternal; for
-Emil, however, she harboured a feeling almost worshipful. The fact
-that she had borne him was to her a miracle ever new. He woke heaven
-in her heart and his love opened her soul as the sun's ray opens the
-flower. Neither husband nor elder son ever suspected the exquisite
-quality of her nature.
-
-Edgar was a lad of fifteen when Emil was born. From the first he
-turned a cold face on the mite, and as time went on grew jealous of him
-up to the eyes. There was something august about Emil even in his
-ugly, defenceless childhood. He was of a singularly inquiring turn of
-mind and years afterward his mother delighted to relate how, when he
-was two years old, he had crawled a mile and a half from home, lured
-forward by the curiosity that later became his salient characteristic.
-His energies spent, he had rested on a flat rock. While his tiny body
-grew warm in the sun, his infant mind had lost itself in inarticulate
-reverie. If he could go on quite to the end of everything, even to
-that hazy, far-away point where blue met green, what should he find?
-It was this speculative tendency that gave his hair its wild aspect;
-that kindled in his eyes their roving, searching glance; that already,
-young as he was, made him look at life with an air of keen astonishment.
-
-When he was eleven years old, his father died and the reins of
-management fell into Edgar's hands. That young man, being in no sense
-a typical farmer, immediately exchanged the farm, which the elder St.
-Ives had bequeathed him, for a large country store. By dint of shrewd
-management, he soon became a successful merchant. So rapidly did he
-rise that by the end of the second year, he had built himself a house
-and installed in it a shrewish wife who lost no time in presenting him
-with a swarm of children. He also placed in the house his mother, and
-the poor lady dwelt there under the lash of the wife's tongue, like a
-servant in constant fear of dismissal. In righteous mood, Edgar even
-went so far as to extend the protection of his roof to his young
-brother. In a tiny chamber over the kitchen the lad's first tentative
-inventions saw the light.
-
-But between these two natures a gulf was fixed. If truth were told,
-they had not a trait in common. Edgar was provident and saving, Emil
-the reverse. Long ere he had obtained his majority, he had wheedled
-from his mother the little money she held in trust for him from his
-grudging and disapproving father. To be sure, the sum was very meagre
-and could not be stretched, by any calculation, to cover the technical
-training the lad coveted; therefore he had expended a part of it for
-scientific books and the rest had gone little by little into materials
-for his constant experimenting.
-
-For the precious little inventions which cluttered Emil's chamber and
-sometimes found their unwelcome way into other parts of the house,
-Edgar had a withering contempt. He never missed an opportunity to have
-a fling at them and his scornful words entered the mother's heart like
-barbed arrows. However, in his nineteenth year Emil produced an
-apparatus for freshening sea water which it seemed must prove of
-inestimable value to all sea-faring folk. The mother in a flutter of
-excitement and even with tears, besought him to take his brother into
-his confidence. In fact this was necessary, if he wished to secure the
-use of an abandoned and much coveted granary for a shop. But the lad
-held back. The apparatus, despite its undoubted usefulness, seemed to
-him of trifling importance. The mother, however, foreseeing fortune
-ahead of him, urged the step and at length the boy consented. True to
-her prediction, after his first scornful inspection of the contrivance,
-Edgar admitted that it might have possibilities. Like most of the
-boy's experiments, this device was beyond his comprehension, but he
-could grasp the fact that sailors and fishermen, with the chance of
-shipwreck forever staring them in the face, might have use for it. He
-therefore offered to get it patented, then took steps to secure the
-patent--in his own name. As it chanced, the papers, bearing his
-signature but otherwise carefully copied from those which Emil had
-submitted for his inspection fell under the boy's eye.
-
-The night following this discovery, a light appeared in the granary.
-Edgar, peering from his chamber window, perceived a demoniacal figure,
-smashing and demolishing everything the little shop contained. Even as
-he looked, it lifted a small instrument, which represented months of
-patient labour, and threw it with a crash to the floor. Instantly
-Edgar was out of the house. He scampered across the yard, his night
-gear fluttering in the light of the pale moon. Emil at that moment
-caught up the sea-water device and sent it crashing through the
-doorway. Being made largely of glass, the instrument shivered into a
-million minute fragments. Edgar and his wife and children, who had
-flocked to his side, covered their eyes. When they looked again,
-through the dust that still hung in the air, they beheld a bent figure,
-lit up by the gleam of the lantern, still moving in a whirl of rubbish.
-
-Edgar in his scant raiment danced up and down.
-
-"Thief!" he hissed.
-
-For an instant the boy paused in his diabolical work:
-
-"Thief!" He burst into terrifying laughter.
-
-With one final wrench he brought down the work-bench and flung it
-across the pile; then kneeling, he applied a match to the mass.
-Crackling flames leaped upward. He got to his feet and stood with his
-figure silhouetted against the red glow. In that hour he had destroyed
-something more precious than his inventions, his books and all his
-little workmen's kit in which he had taken such pride. That which had
-gone down in flames hotter than those which raged around him, was the
-essential quality which is youth. Such searing emotions are the death
-of adolescence. He was visibly trembling. The hair was matted above
-the eyes which he lifted. Without a word he darted past them and
-disappeared into the night.
-
-A quarter of a mile from the house he met his mother. She was waiting
-for him in the darkness. Quivering all over she took him in her long
-arms. But his anger had already subsided and he felt stealing over him
-a new and gratifying sense of release.
-
-"Don't, Mother," he whispered hoarsely, "it was bound to come,--and
-you'll see--I'll soon send for you."
-
-Her tears distressed him. For this cheated, baffled, frail and
-suffering mother who asked but one thing, that his ambition be
-gratified, Emil's feeling was fiercely paternal. It was the solitary
-oasis in a nature devoid of all other affections.
-
-He caressed her with his hands, but presently he held them up before
-her. "With these," he whispered, "and with this," and he touched his
-forehead, "I'll do something. You'll see. The world needs me," he
-cried.
-
-The world needed him! At that moment he felt that he could grasp the
-universe, instinct with unknown laws, and plunging his mind into it
-could drag forth some hitherto undiscovered force.
-
-The world needed him! Poor, foolish, misguided, highly-gifted youth!
-Certainly he was more valuable to Society than its rickety children who
-would never grow up, its infirm old men, sick with alcoholism, its base
-and unworthy charges; yet for all these, he soon discovered, the great
-New York, glancing indifferently from her million windows, provided
-asylums; but for him, who had in his head that which should bring the
-world to his feet--for him nothing.
-
-In turn he worked for a photographer, a printer, and an engraver, but
-as he failed to pay attention to his duties and urged upon his irate
-employers devices for improving the processes used in their work, he
-remained only a short time in each situation. By the third year,
-however, he drifted into a place that promised to be permanent.
-
-The conservative lithographing establishment of Benjamin Just and
-Richard Lawless was in need of an apprentice. Being by this time much
-reduced in health and spirits, with all the fiery currents of his being
-at low ebb, Emil accepted this berth. For upwards of a year he worked
-with commendable sobriety; in fact, became no more than a pivot, a
-screw, a tiny whirling wheel in the life of the factory. But at the
-end of a twelvemonth his old fever broke out in aggravated form; the
-trivial bit of mechanism became a madman or a genius over night.
-
-Waving some papers above his head, laughing naďvely and applauding
-himself, Emil approached the head draughtsman one day and exhibited a
-little model. But the draughtsman into whose hands all the choice work
-of the establishment fell, swore at him. 'The art of lithography,' he
-gave him to understand, 'was an old and honourable one; and as for
-cheapening the work, heaven knew, enough had been done in that line!'
-And he briefly consigned the young fool and his new-fangled process to
-hell.
-
-Thereupon, Emil, nothing daunted, approached the two owners. Trembling
-all over with eagerness, he fixed them with his eyes in which a flame
-seemed to be leaping up and down.
-
-"Just a thin flexible sheet, that is what I propose," he cried;--"a
-sheet which has all the qualities of the finest of your lithographic
-stones, but which is superior because cheaper and lighter and the
-possible supply unlimited. How's that? A sheet, which after one
-preparation for printing, will continue to yield clean proofs without
-dampening or resetting for a much longer time than the best of your
-lithographic stones," he continued.
-
-"But how do you print from this precious sheet of yours?" inquired Mr.
-Lawless, a fat red man, who tried to look scornful and only succeeded
-in looking ridiculous. If truth were told, the partners, while
-appearing to have little faith in the scheme, felt in the pits of their
-stomachs an excited feeling similar to that produced by high swinging;
-indeed, their phlegmatic pulses beat to the same excited measure as the
-young inventor's.
-
-"With a specially constructed cylinder press, that's now I'll print,"
-answered Emil.
-
-As a result of the conference, the owners, although professing
-scepticism, consented to give him a small room in which to perfect his
-invention and, in their generosity, even guaranteed to continue the
-payment of his former meagre salary.
-
-From that day, Emil began to live a particular and intensely nervous
-life.
-
-He was now one of a large army, consisting of press men, lithographers,
-zinc men, clerks, artists, stenographers, bookkeepers. The majority of
-these men did their work methodically and as a matter of duty. When
-they quitted the factory at night, they forgot the labour that had
-occupied them during the day. With Emil, however, it was otherwise.
-
-In a tiny room, reeking with heat and dust and clamorous with the
-rumble of the presses, he worked, scarcely taking note of the passing
-of one day and the birth of another. Often he sought the factory at
-night. The general manager, a man with a forceful presence and a
-shrewd eye, scornfully shrugged his shoulders. He distrusted such
-enthusiasm; but the owners were more hopeful. At night they had a door
-left open for the erratic inventor.
-
-Unconscious that he was observed, Emil hurried through the streets and
-bounded up the steps to his den. Then how he caressed his invention,
-how he stared straight before him with eyes that saw nothing, while his
-brain drew from the surrounding ether a crowd of images wonderful for
-their reality and vigour. Sometimes in these nights of limpid
-contemplation, he became as beautiful as an angel. At other times,
-inspiration was capricious and the particular idea that he sought must
-be pursued. At such times he would crack his fingers at the joints,
-wave backward and forward like a tree in a storm, rock like a ship on
-an angry sea. Somehow, he would wrest his idea from the vast Unknown.
-And when he had succeeded in fixing it, smiling peacefully, he would go
-to sleep like a child; go to sleep and dream of some far land where
-invention was not torture. Before his work-bench, exhausted, he was
-often discovered in the early dawn by Ding Dong when he came to sweep
-out.
-
-Half-witted, deaf and dumb, with a face so hideous that caricature
-could not exaggerate it, Ding Dong had received his nick-name from some
-bookish artist or other. With a fat tongue useless in his wide mouth
-and ears like sails, though they served to convey no sound to his
-meagre brain, Ding Dong ate habitually of the food thrown away by
-saloons, drank the dregs left in whiskey glasses, and, with the agility
-of a little cat, accepted the stumps of cigarettes which the clerks
-good naturedly threw him.
-
-Between him and Emil, existed a peculiar friendship, and many were the
-novel breakfast parties held in the little workroom at the hour when
-New York was just waking to life.
-
-Ding Dong procured rolls and made coffee; then three partook of the
-meal, for there were always three, the inventor, Ding Dong and, to
-furnish the feminine element, Lulu, a tiny South American monkey.
-Pinched and sad Lulu seemingly was not devoid of coquetry, for she
-wrapped herself in a bit of bright flannel which she held together
-beneath her chin with one small black hand, while she peeped out from
-between the folds with her little mournful eyes.
-
-Of all the prisoners in the great building, none was more miserable
-than this little monkey. A present to the wife of one of the partners,
-who detested her, she had been brought down to the factory where she
-led a truly miserable life. In order to be out of reach of the furnace
-man, who had once treated her cruelly, she ran up among the
-asbestos-covered pipes, and there remained, save when she suffered
-herself to be lured down by Ding Dong. It was as if these two touching
-creatures, the one so nearly bestial and the other so nearly human,
-strove to lessen each other's profound loneliness.
-
-As Emil pulled at his long pipe, resting after his exertions of the
-night, something of his serenity stole over his companions and wrapped
-in the same mood of abstracted dreaminess, they watched the dawn
-together.
-
-When the department overseer appeared, a shudder ran through the
-building. The presses rumbled and boys began to feed them with great
-sheets of paper. The band of pale, dispirited youths in the art
-department etched their designs. With dust, sweat, oaths, grinding
-muscles, shriek and thunder of machinery,--the day began. Hour after
-hour the passionate clamour increased to a poem, a hymn, a pćan to the
-God of Work.
-
-At twelve o'clock the tension relaxed. Men from the different
-departments poured into the streets and sought the cafes and
-restaurants of the neighbourhood. A few, however, always remained in
-the building. For that hour they were no longer slaves. The head
-bookkeeper, an old man, stretched his legs, glad to get down from his
-high stool; one of the stenographers, with flying fingers resumed her
-work on a little red jacket for Lulu. Even Emil was affected by the
-sudden contagion of idleness that swept the building. Leaving the
-model of his press, he took time to stare from the windows at the roofs
-of New York. But despite his interest in his work these surroundings
-were beginning to tell upon him. One day in July, unable to bear the
-heat, he staggered out into the passage to get a drink from a pail of
-water that stood there. He was lifting the dripping dipper to his
-lips, when a pair of eyes met his with a sort of shock. When he
-stumbled back into the little den, Annie Lawless, springing up from a
-chair in her father's office, followed him.
-
-"What's the matter?" she cried sharply, as he sank down with his head
-bowed on the work-bench. She started to summon someone, but a second
-glance at his pale face with tiny beads of perspiration around the
-nostrils, caused her to change her mind. She passed swiftly to the
-door and closed it. Then, detaching a jewelled smelling-bottle from
-her belt, she held it under his nose with her little shaking hand.
-When Emil came to himself, he saw bending over him a delicate face
-shaped like a pear, the cheeks white almost as his own. This face was
-furnished with soft open lips, like an infant's, and, by contradiction,
-with two blue eyes which, for the moment, looked into his with an
-almost maternal solicitude.
-
-"Are you better?" The question was blended with the odour of violets,
-subtle and overpowering, with the gleam of diamonds, with the touch of
-a soft fabric, warm with life, beneath his cheek.
-
-The next instant he sat up, flushing all over. And Annie Lawless
-blushed too.
-
-"Yes, I'm all right, perfectly right," he muttered, and tried to laugh.
-"It's only this infernal heat," supporting his head in a strange
-fashion as if he feared it would drop off.
-
-"Yes, it is awfully hot," Annie answered. "Is that the model for the
-cylinder press?" she asked presently. "I've heard Father speak of your
-inventions."
-
-Emil, whose head was still giddy, had a childish wish that she would
-come near him again and put those hands, covered with rings, on his
-brow. He looked at her as she stood speaking. When she turned
-sidewise he noticed dreamily how small her waist was, he believed he
-could span it with his two hands; and her nose was slightly hooked,
-which combined with her quick movements, gave her somewhat of the
-appearance of a bird.
-
-"I've heard Papa say that he thinks your press is going to be a big
-thing," she continued, "but I should think he ought to give you a
-better place to work in."
-
-At these words Emil roused himself. He had not known before that Mr.
-Lawless believed in the press. "Why yes, if I had a decent place to
-work in--" he began.
-
-"Papa ought to pay you more money," she said with conviction. "Why, he
-used to have a man who invented things and he gave him special rooms
-and a fine salary besides. Papa says a man with the inventive bee in
-his bonnet isn't fit to look after himself. But that man was," she
-concluded, "for he left Papa one day in the lurch and went to inventing
-things on his own account, and since then he has made a pile of money.
-You'll do that too if they aren't careful."
-
-The upshot of the matter was that she began making plans for the relief
-of the stranger who, with his extraordinary air, seemed more
-interesting to her than anyone she had ever known.
-
-"It may take a little time, but I'll manage it somehow," she told him
-as she left.
-
-And she did manage it.
-
-She saw Emil several times, arousing a perfect furor of gossip among
-the artists by the temerity of her visits. When she knew that her
-father and his partner were out of the building, she slipped in to see
-Emil, and, more than once as the summer advanced, she met him at an
-appointed place on his homeward walk.
-
-Finally, acting on her advice, he sent in a written protest to his
-employers, stating that it was impossible for him to complete the work
-at his present salary and setting forth his desire for a more fully
-equipped workroom. In conclusion, he intimated that if his requests
-were not acceded to, in view of the services he had already rendered
-them, he should feel free to quit their employ.
-
-The day following this step, Annie appeared with triumph written all
-over her face.
-
-"It's all settled," she announced. "Mr. Just and the general manager
-were at our house last night. They talked about you and I listened at
-the library door. Papa made Mr. Wakefield admit that he'd been wrong
-in his estimate of you. And then Papa went on to say that he thought
-they might as well, first as last, offer to grub stake you. Do you
-know what that means?" she cried, laughing. "It means that they will
-pay all your expenses and give you rooms somewhere like that Mr.
-Pennyworth I told you about. He said already, by the different
-improvements you'd made on this and that machine, you'd saved the firm
-thousands of dollars. You didn't know that, I guess. He said you were
-too valuable a man to lose. And that's not all," she went on to cover
-her embarrassment, for Emil was staring at her, "you're to have a few
-weeks somewhere in the country if you want them, and I'm sure you need
-a vacation badly enough."
-
-"How did you manage it?" he asked, speaking with difficulty.
-
-"Oh, I just kept Papa thinking about you by the things I said. One day
-I said that the factory was horribly stuffy and I should think the
-artists, and you particularly, would just die. And then I asked him
-carelessly if he thought your press was going to be any good, and he
-said, 'Good!--well, if he can be got to finish it, that's all we want.
-The man's a genius!' And I laughed and told him he'd better look out
-or his genius would have sunstroke. I explained to him that you were
-probably so worn out that you couldn't finish it. I said a thing here
-and a thing there, mere nothings, but I made him uneasy, and then came
-your letter throwing up the whole scheme before it was completed. Oh I
-knew he'd do it, if it was managed all right!" she exclaimed gleefully.
-And then changing her tone: "Are you glad?" and she wrinkled her brow
-into anxious furrows beneath her light summer hat.
-
-Emil took one of her little hands timidly. He turned a ring round and
-round on her tiny finger, staring at her, endeavouring to find words.
-Suddenly two arms were laid about his neck and all quivering in the
-storm of her own emotions, like a bird seeking shelter, she fluttered
-against his breast. Her hat had slipped to her shoulders. He felt
-that she was sobbing violently, and scarcely knowing what he did, he
-clasped her closely in his arms and muttering unintelligible words
-which he himself did not understand, he pressed his lips again and
-again to her small blond head.
-
-But the plum that tumbles into our lap without the asking is seldom as
-fine as the fruit we climb for, strain for, spend hours in thirsting
-after. Three weeks--and this fierce agitation of the senses had
-subsided. It was an excitement, a fever, which at the time had been
-augmented by so many equivocal influences; by the noise of the presses
-which had seemed to keep time to his pulses, by the gleam of the girl's
-jewels, by the softness of her attire, by the fact, more than all else,
-that she was his chief's daughter.
-
-A whiff of sea air and Emil looked back on the affair with utter
-weariness. Without a conscience, he was accustomed to follow simply
-the dictates of his own nature. The memory of the girl irked him,
-therefore with heavy sighs like a weary horse, he destroyed her
-letters. However, the phantom of love had passed very close, and it
-was not in vain that all the electric currents of his being had been
-set in motion. He was awake now to another world than that in which he
-had hitherto dwelt,--awake, with his great inquisitive eyes, attentive.
-
-It was at this juncture that Rachel Beckett dawned on his horizon.
-When she came round the rock leading the cow, a novel sensation
-convulsed that strange uncultivated heart of his. A man's heart is a
-garden in which, before the coming of death, many flowers of emotion
-bloom; and the history of these flowers is the history of his life.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-IN THE CAUSE OF SCIENCE
-
-Since the night of Emil's departure, which had brought such terror to
-her heart, a divine serenity had fallen upon Mrs. St. Ives. His
-frequent letters, filled with the vitality of his genius and all
-radiant with love, were to her a second baptism of youth. Palpitating
-with enthusiasm, she carried them to her room where she read and reread
-them. Sometimes she wept over them, and for days after the receipt of
-one, she went about with an expression of utter peace. But when, for
-some reason, a letter failed to arrive, then in that house far removed
-from the scenes among which he dwelt, she would clasp her hands in
-silent agony, she would be given over to anxiety, glancing about her,
-more nervous than any bird; she would rebuke the teasing grandchildren
-and fiercely demand the letter which, she imagined, her daughter-in-law
-kept from her. Then became evident in her no longer the triumph of
-youth but the tragedy of age.
-
-Without doing anything to deserve her special affection, both Edgar and
-his wife were jealous of her absorbing love for Emil. They ridiculed
-this worship. And no one except the singular object of her devotion
-comprehended the extent of her suffering. Vague and unsatisfactory as
-he was in all other relations, where she was concerned he was gifted
-with an insight that might have done credit to a woman. Full well he
-comprehended that she was living her life in his, and, for that reason,
-he strove to make it gorgeous for her. Poor devil of an inventor, with
-his toes all but through his boots and his head in the clouds! He
-would often brood over her situation with tears in his eyes. He
-cherished the hope of one day having her with him, and, in the event of
-her coming, planned like a lover, to greet her royally. But once
-plunged in his work, it must be confessed that for days together he
-incontinently forgot all about her. Then, perhaps, a feeble scrawl
-would arrive, announcing a headache or some trifling woman's worry, and
-contrition would be rampant in him. Rousing himself, he would write
-her one of his long, characteristic letters, fairly pouring out his
-life on the page.
-
-As may be conjectured, his being sent to Old Harbour to rest and,
-incidentally, to add the finishing touches to the metal plate and
-cylinder press, was subject matter for a glowing epistle, which brought
-to the mother a wealth of happiness and sent her to bed night after
-night with touching prayers of gratitude on her lips. Once settled in
-the hotel at Old Harbour, however, Emil abandoned the work in hand and
-fell to making a _depth indicator_. How think of anything else with
-the sea out there waiting to be plumbed? In vain Annie Lawless hinted
-that her father was anxious to install the press and counselled haste,
-as has been related, Emil destroyed her letters and went feverishly
-forward with his self-appointed task.
-
-On the afternoon of the day of his meeting with Rachel he was in fine
-feather. The presence of the girl and the prospect of testing his
-invention filled him with animation. At moments, as he tinkered at the
-boat's rim, he whistled so shrilly that the sea gulls paused in their
-wheeling to listen; and this complicated energy, this unusual virility,
-was as much a tribute to her who sat in the grey nest of boulders, as a
-testimony of interest in the work. And so she understood it.
-
-With her slight figure relieved against the skyline, she waited for him
-to complete his preparations. Now and then her eyes travelled, with
-unerring directness, to the mound of sand where he had that morning
-buried the letter. What did those hard-packed grains of sand conceal?
-Instinctively she played with the question and its import sat deep in
-her eye. As if by a stroke of art, she had placed herself in direct
-line with the figure-head, so that no one glancing that way could fail
-to be struck by the dissimilarity between image and maid. Mobility and
-an ardent capacity for a rich and varied existence were written all
-over her; that something which is the potency of womanhood itself
-seemed to have awakened suddenly from the torpor of youth in that
-little heart and to have come abroad for the first time experimentally.
-There she sat, and whenever he turned his head, he was struck anew with
-her, so that he must needs look again and yet again.
-
-She had covered her feet with her skirts and her hands were clasped
-decorously in her lap. Her brow had a male gravity, as distinguished
-from her chin which was softly-turned and exceeding feminine. Her hair
-was parted and trained in two shining unbroken portions and tucked away
-behind her ears, something as a curtain is looped back from a window.
-The sphinx-like mystery of Leonardo's _La Gioconda_ was alive in her
-eyes.
-
-Even while the girl, in her essential self, remained superlatively
-innocent and unconscious, there looked out from her little virgin
-countenance at Emil, gravely selecting him, the 'Genius of the
-Species.' Her glance proclaimed sex and intellectual detachment.
-
-Presently Emil turned his face over his shoulder and beckoned to her;
-and his laugh was repeated by the water coursing up the beach and
-curling round the boat in white-lipped waves. The fog had disappeared
-and the sun was now shining joyously.
-
-Rachel grasped the oars, rowing with long even strokes, and Emil sat in
-the bow. To one side of the boat and projecting into the water, he had
-attached a bell, which gave out when struck a special, sharp, short
-note; and on the other side of the boat he had placed a telephone
-receiver connected with a small box.
-
-"And inside that box is another still smaller of metal," he told her,
-"and that contains the secret of the whole device. Did you ever hear
-of the microphone?"
-
-She shook her head.
-
-"Well, it's a tiny affair no larger than a pea, and will so magnify
-sound in connection with an electric current and a telephone receiver,
-such as I have here, that the footsteps of a fly on a sheet of paper
-sound about like the tramping of an army. It's so powerful," he
-continued, "that if I were to place it in the end of a tube and point
-the tube, say, toward that island out there, any noise going on---a
-wagon rattling along the road or a child naming--I should be able to
-hear on this side, provided I had arranged the microphone so as to shut
-out all intervening noises. For instance, this microphone here is
-sensitive to no sound but that of the bell and the vibrations that I
-hope may be reflected back from the sea bottom. But we'll soon know
-whether it will work," he cried. "Row about twenty rods farther and
-then I'll tell you not only the depth of the water at that point, but
-the character of the bottom and whether it will be safe for our big
-liner to advance."
-
-He was trembling all over and Rachel reflected his interest. She sent
-the boat forward a few strokes, then rested on the dripping oars.
-Nature, it seemed, was in her most approachable mood and at a hint of
-coaxing would reveal her secrets; yet the girl was conscious of
-something in the phenomena of the sea implacable and resistant to the
-efforts of man. Concealed promontories, hidden shoals, submerged
-headlands, treacherous peaks, drowned under the ceaseless rushing of
-waters--would the Voice come back bearing tale of all this?--or, if
-mud, weeds, fish, incrustations of shell--would the Voice proclaim
-safety, and the inventor know the very thickness of that rolling,
-beauteous mantle of mystery?
-
-Nothing of the poetic significance of the test was lost on the girl,
-and she felt the hand of pity at her throat when she witnessed Emil's
-disappointment manifest all over him like a blight. Then she gloried
-when she saw him repeat the test.
-
-Come what might, it was clear he had faith in himself.
-
-Tenaciously he passed from one test to another. He contorted himself,
-stooping in the bottom of the boat, his eyes bright with the steady
-flame of his determination. He took off his coat and, flinging back
-his hair, listened with the receiver at one ear while he covered the
-other with his free hand. At last he was able to hear: first, the
-muffled stroke of the bell, then the extremely feeble sound vibrations
-reflected from the sea bottom through the microphone-telephone; and by
-the period of time which elapsed between the bell stroke and the return
-impulse, he was able, after innumerable experiments, to estimate
-closely the distance which the sound travelled before being sent back.
-
-The afternoon advanced and waned, twilight approached, and, by his
-complete absorption, he revealed to Rachel the toil, the cautious
-experiments, the days and nights of labour expended for such meagre,
-very meagre results. He became, all at once, in her imagination, a
-figure exalted and pathetic. But it was plain that the unsatisfactory
-test had consumed a portion of his existence. At last, with an abrupt
-gesture, he directed her to put back to the shore.
-
-The darkness had fallen and the waves wetted the beach indefatigably,
-the ocean murmured incomprehensibly, and from the heavens poured the
-imperturbable light of the stars. The stars threw their calm radiance
-over the figure that, silent and absorbed, leaped out of the boat and
-without a word made off around the rocks.
-
-A shadowy presence, which immediately disclosed itself as a boy,
-emerged from among the boulders and scowled after the retreating form.
-"The next time he's for rowing round in such crazy fashion, I'll take
-him." And with his strong arms, André helped Rachel beach the boat.
-
-She flung down the end of rope and faced him. "You'll do nothing of
-the sort," she cried; "you'll mind your business, do you understand?"
-
-These words, spit out upon him, made him open his eyes in astonishment,
-but before he could find speech, she likewise had disappeared in the
-gloom.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-THE OLD FASCINATION
-
-In spite of André's interference and her grandfather's mild
-questionings, in spite, even, of Nora Gage's curious and sly looks,
-Rachel continued to take Emil out in the boat every day. But on the
-fifth day when she went to the beach, he did not appear. For a time
-she waited in acute loneliness, then, with a magnificent effort, she
-returned to the house, deliberately donned her best dress, and,
-haughtily, under Nora's little inquisitive eyes, started for Old
-Harbour. Some powerful law of existence was at work driving her
-blindly forward to realize a distant idea in the face of the challenges
-of her maidenhood.
-
-She walked rapidly until she gained the main street of the little
-village. Then her steps flagged, and with her head turning idly from
-side to side, she noticed, as if for the first time, the names over the
-doors of the storm-beaten shops:--"Old Harbour Yacht Yard," "Ship
-Chandlery and Hardware," "Paint, Cordage and Boat Trimmings."
-
-In her dainty trappings, with the shadow from her hat in her eyes and
-folds of her crisp muslin dress in one sunburnt hand to keep it from
-the soil of the road, she might have been a stranger on a first stroll
-through the curious little town that smelled rankly of fish, instead of
-a maid born and bred in those parts. Finally she paused before a
-window where yellow oilskin coats were grotesquely displayed, together
-with lanterns and canvas pails and other objects of signal interest to
-one of her sex and age; and at that instant Emil, lounging in the door
-of the hotel opposite with a pipe planted between his lips, spied her.
-
-For two blocks she walked rapidly, and when she did permit him to
-overtake her, she scarcely gave answer to his greeting. As if by
-mutual consent they turned their steps in the direction of the old
-Burying Point, a rocky promontory at the town's edge where for two
-centuries Old Harbour had persistently discovered graves for its dead
-among the boulders. Rocks and bones of men disputed the place, and
-yet, what more fit than that they should be laid to rest there, those
-staunch old captains and brave wives, whose very spirits had more in
-common with rocks than with flowers? Yet flowers bloomed there in
-scanty elegance, and sprays of 'lady's ear-drop' and 'Queen Anne's
-lace,' testifying to some feminine grace hidden away in neighbouring
-graves, caught and clung to Rachel's dress as she passed.
-
-Emil, who was frankly pleased to see her, kept laughing loudly as he
-switched off the heads of the tall grass: but Rachel turned away her
-face and bit her lip; now that she saw him, she was indifferent to him.
-She was not thoroughly aware of her own actions until they were
-accomplished. Constantly something vast fought within her. Indeed, in
-this scrap of a girl was manifest one of the greatest desires, the
-greatest volitions of the universe.
-
-Reaching the edge of the cemetery where it ran out in a jutting cliff
-that commanded a view of extended range and beauty, she sank down on an
-old seat and cast a challenging glance at Emil.
-
-"Is the _depth indicator_ complete?" she asked. "I did not know that
-you considered it finished."
-
-"Yes, it's practically finished," he answered; "anyhow, I shan't be
-able to do anything more to it for the present. I've got to finish my
-lithographic outfit. They're hurrying me. I'm heartily sick of it,
-but there's nothing else to be done."
-
-"Of course you must finish it," she agreed quickly, and the last little
-cloud vanished from her eyes.
-
-With instinctive tact she began making more attractive to him the duty
-that lay before him. She made him explain the salient features of the
-lithographic improvement and she nodded her head sagely at each point
-as if she understood. Then she praised its ingenuity. Finally, having
-divined his feeling for his mother, she hinted at her pleasure in his
-success.
-
-"Your mother must be excited these days," she said, "and proud, too."
-
-The glow in his glance had been deepening, and pride was visible all
-over him, but at the mention of his mother his expression changed.
-
-"Yes, it must go through for her sake," he said soberly. "Oh, I'm a
-queer devil," he continued, hitching his shoulders in some impatience;
-"I've a brain exactly like one of the monkeys in the Zoo--attracted
-first by this thing, then by that, just like one of the monkeys in the
-Zoo. I say, you're coming to-morrow?" he asked, as she rose. "If I'm
-to finish in time, someone's got to bring me to account."
-
-He stood smiling at her, the sun lighting up his rough locks and
-causing him to half close his questioning, eager eyes in which there
-was a touch of anxiety.
-
-She lifted toward him her sensitive and responsive face.
-
-"Will you come?" he insisted. His eyes held hers.
-
-Her brows rose ingenuously, her lips parted, though no word passed
-them. Then, with a mute gesture of assent, she turned away.
-
-Reaching home, she deemed it expedient to conceal her towering spirits.
-But even so, it seemed extraordinary that her grandfather did not
-surprise the thought that informed her cheeks, her eyes and every curve
-of her body with witchery. In Emil's presence her bearing had not been
-what she could have wished, but now it was that of a queen.
-
-At bedtime, before her mirror, she arranged her hair after a new
-fashion. She stared into her bright soft face. Standing in her
-nightgown she hugged closely to her breast her happiness that was young
-and young and once again young.
-
-Borne forward in obedience to an irresistible command of nature, she
-continued to meet St. Ives. In spite of tears and passionate revolts
-and innumerable petty hypocrisies by which she strove to put another
-face on her actions, that was awake in her which would not be gainsaid.
-And, thanks to her sex which so readily can blind itself, her movements
-for the most part remained superbly instinctive and unconscious.
-
-When she set out of an afternoon for Old Harbour she caught and held
-every eye, like something bright and sparkling. Nora Gage observed her
-and malignity appeared to deepen the creases of her fat; while Lizzie
-Goodenough longed for the temerity to give warning to the motherless
-slip. All unmindful of them, Rachel, with such bravery of raiment as
-she could command, pursued her course. And her accoutrement, which was
-always the same, was by no means inconsiderable. The dress was of
-yellow barred-muslin and the skirt swayed as she walked like the
-corolla of a drooping flower. The waist fitted her closely, save at
-the bosom where there was an over-lapping fulness and in this surplice
-front was pinned carelessly, surely with the height of art, a cluster
-of evening primroses. These frail flowers, constantly agitated by the
-mad beating of her heart, drooped finally, as if in sheer delight at
-their enviable position. Fastened beneath her chin was the ribbon of
-her flower-decked hat. This ribbon, passing round that little smooth
-face and seeming to hold it in a dainty embrace, was a triumph of
-coquetry: it had life and spoke, calling attention to the down on the
-cheek, to the lift of the upper lip, finally to the eyes, innocent as a
-stag's--eyes that never the less revealed in this ardent, complex,
-highly-spiritual creature intense aspirations towards a fuller
-existence.
-
-One afternoon on arriving at the cemetery she seated herself on a
-certain flat-topped tomb, and there some minutes later Emil joined her.
-The look from under his rough mane came at her diagonally, as with head
-lowered on his hand, he sat beside her. His eyes shed on her
-admiration; his moustache leaped against his cheek as he smiled.
-
-"It's good to be near you."
-
-Rachel glanced at him askance, and one little hand trembled so on the
-other that she had to intertwine their fingers strongly. Though she
-drank in these words like wine, she did not know how to prolong the
-moment. Instead,--O perverse instinct that frequently dominates
-helpless youth!--she inquired about his work. For interminable hours
-she had longed for this very moment, yet here she was shortening it!
-
-Emil rose joyously to her question. Not only did he reply to it, but
-he amplified his explanation and finally launched into a detailed
-description of the instrument on which he was then engaged.
-
-Once started on the subject, she knew he would not abandon it until she
-rose as a signal that the interview must end.
-
-Happiness was diminished, but for an instant only. Disappointment was
-drowned in pride. It was something to have demonstrated to her her
-value as a confidante. To her imagination this stranger dropped by
-Fate at her feet, was all that the childish André was not. He appealed
-to her by reason of his stronger magnetism and his greater mind. Not
-only did he seem to her to possess every quality of the ideal lover,
-but,--and the discovery completed her subjugation and was essential to
-it,--he was the eternal child of genius whom she longed to protect.
-
-The moment came when they had to part. Sometimes they separated at the
-gate of the cemetery; sometimes, if dusk had overtaken them, Emil
-walked home with her. Frequently, at the moment of parting, he caught
-her hand and looked fixedly at her eyes and mouth. Though judging from
-the expression of both eyes and mouth, the permission he sought was not
-absolutely withheld, the firm, round face fronting his in the evening
-light seemed to mask a host of imperious possibilities. Its look, on
-the whole, was equivocal. Scarcely aware of what restrained him, he
-pressed her trusting little fingers and let her go. Rachel was one of
-those fortunate maidens who are never treated with levity by men.
-
-After the young girl had disappeared in the house, the spell she had
-cast over Emil's restless heart was in a measure dissipated. He
-straightened his cap, thrust his hands into his pockets and swung away,
-his thoughts once more on his work.
-
-But for Rachel there existed no such opposing interest. Each day,
-through the hours of separation, she lived on the exhaustless, ardent
-vitality absorbed during their last interview. But it was not long ere
-the glory of her dream was partially eclipsed. The guileless disturber
-of her bliss was a certain Lottie Loveburg who caught up with her one
-afternoon as she was striking into the road for Pemoquod Point. As she
-had parted from Emil some minutes earlier, Rachel was not averse to
-Lottie's company.
-
-"I'm going your way, at least as far as Mr. Patch's," Lottie announced
-with a panting breath. "Mother wants me to get a mess of pease for
-supper. Bliss and Mason are all sold out."
-
-The two girls went on side by side.
-
-Lottie was a few years older than Rachel. In school she had been
-considered an out-and-out stupid, but once released from school she was
-acknowledged a belle. She was a large full-bosomed lass with a head of
-heavy blond hair. The one misfortune of her face was the slight
-crossing of the blue eyes. As far as possible, she remedied the defect
-by a frequent lowering of the lids, though the precaution was one which
-she did not trouble herself to take when walking, as at present, with
-one of her own kind. From this big lazy girl there issued a compelling
-and entirely innocent charm that attacked the opposite sex. To the
-absorbed and dreamy Rachel she was as cornet to flute, when both blow
-the same ravishing air.
-
-For a space the pair followed the road in silence. Had any observer
-been present, he might well have asked himself how much of the hope
-depicted on the countenances of these two young creatures was destined
-to be fulfilled. Were they destined to be mothers of sons and
-daughters who, in turn, would inhabit this desolate coast?--or was it
-written that something of their superabundance of dream and romance be
-realized? It was significant that they set their faces toward the
-immense infinite ocean, suggestive that their skirts, whipped to the
-side by the breeze, seemed waving a farewell to the rude life of the
-land.
-
-Though their shoulders touched, for sometime each seemed unconscious of
-the other. Lottie was the first to speak.
-
-"Well," she cried, "here we are at Mr. Patch's and I haven't said a
-word of what's weighing on my mind."
-
-Rachel started and glanced sideways at her. She feared some allusion
-to her meetings with Emil.
-
-But Lottie was too much engrossed in her own affairs to give a thought
-to her companion's. "Yes, I think I must tell you," she continued with
-a sigh that was a frank announcement of vanity. "Well then, Mr.
-Forebush intends to fight Jim Wright. He's going to follow Jim as he
-goes along home past the cemetery, and when they reach a lonely place,
-he's going to drag Jim in behind the wall and settle things."
-
-"The cemetery?" cried Rachel sharply. The cemetery was her territory.
-
-"They won't be disturbed there--that's all Mr. Forebush is thinking of.
-He travels for a New York shoe firm, you know, and he says he's sick of
-finding Jim hanging round our house every time he comes to town."
-
-"Then does Mr. Forebush--does he like you?" Rachel questioned. Though
-she made free use of a warmer term in her meditations, she hesitated to
-pronounce it.
-
-But the more experienced Lottie had no such scruple. "Like me!" She
-threw her hands apart with an expansive motion. "Why he loves me!"
-And to cover her embarrassment she burst into laughter.
-
-Rachel crimsoned. "Yes, but how do you know he does?" she persisted.
-
-Lottie continued laughing. "Oh, you queer child! You understand
-nothing!" Then, as the other darted an angry look at her,--"Why,
-doesn't the fight prove it, even if he hadn't said it? But he has said
-it. I wouldn't take stock in him if he hadn't. No looks and kisses
-without words for me! But I'm leaving you here. Wonder if Mr. Patch
-is at home." Then, as she was passing in at the gate she added with a
-return of the sentimental manner, "I'm sure I hope Jim won't hurt Mr.
-Forebush; he's some bigger, you know."
-
-Rachel did not remain to discuss this possibility. Instead, she threw
-over her shoulder a curt "good-bye" and pursued her course.
-
-When she was with Emil what did he talk about? Try as she would she
-could recall no topic on which he dwelt save his own work. Ideas for
-new inventions, for wonderful instruments jostled each other on his
-lips. He explained them with fire;--plans, details, he mapped them all
-out before her. "Fine to do!" he would cry, and while the words came
-forth in the most ringing tones of his voice and his eyes constantly
-sought hers, conscious that he revived in her presence his courage and
-light-heartedness, she herself was tricked into contentment. But now
-she questioned the extent of her power over him.
-
-Until she had covered the distance from Zarah Patch's to "the barn,"
-her feeling was nicely balanced between dejection and hope. But from
-"the barn" onward to her grandfather's house, hope flagged. Presently,
-in the privacy of her own room, she succumbed to despair:
-
-"It may be that I'm not good-looking enough!"
-
-This was the thought that caused her the most exquisite pang. If she
-failed on that score, as well yield up all hope at once. And in fancy
-she ranged herself beside this spinster and that of her acquaintance
-until the consciousness of the contrast between eighteen and fifty
-brought a smile flickering to her lips. But did she fail in the matter
-of looks? When dressed in her best, didn't she look as well as Lottie
-Loveburg? To be sure Lottie had a rope of hair as big as your arm, but
-then, there were her eyes!
-
-To glance in the mirror over her bureau at her own resources of face
-and figure was a natural action for a young thing in such harassing
-doubt. At present, however on the subject of her looks, Rachel had all
-of a child's ignorance. She was no more capable of appreciating the
-sensitive changeful beauty of her colouring and expression than a
-canary bird is of appreciating the beauty of its yellow plumage.
-
-Turning from the mirror to a window, she lost herself in reverie. Her
-thoughts returned again and again to the vision of two eyes that
-entered audaciously into hers,--two eyes with a mind in them,--two good
-lips laughing and talking from the covert of a curling beard; and as
-she studied the exciting vision, the gloom lifted from her face. It
-was indeed a great honour to be the confidante of such a man, she
-assured herself; and once more was isolated by the realization on a
-dizzy eminence above all her girl companions.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-IN WHICH A KISS IS GIVEN AND REGRETTED
-
-Unconscious of the grim humour that lurked in the fact of their having
-selected it as a place to foregather, Emil and Rachel continued to meet
-at the old Burying Point. No other lovers came there, and as deaths
-were infrequent in Old Harbour and a funeral pageant an event, they
-were practically secure from interruption. There, where the wind bent
-the grass above the graves with a sound that struck pleasantly on the
-ear and the insect world was all abroad on busy wings, they found the
-isolation their spirits craved. The place was, at most, but a setting
-for their two selves, for their sweet, intoxicating emotions.
-
-Emil would look at Rachel pensively, almost appealingly. She stirred
-in him depths of tenderness and often he would have been tempted into
-some indiscretion had not her Arcadian innocence disconcerted him.
-With a shrug of the shoulders and a sigh, he would turn away from her
-as if offended at something. Though neither of them guessed it, what
-raised the level of the situation and decreased its dangers, was the
-unflagging interest she exhibited in his work. A woman's interest in
-his achievement is always fruitful for a man. For the exuberant and
-egotistic inventor, it was as fuel to flame. It immensely increased
-his powers.
-
-Had anyone, prompted by curiosity, troubled himself to spy on the pair,
-he would have discovered an enthusiastic young fellow ranting on
-matters scientific and a slip of a girl sitting nearby with delight and
-despair depicted on her mobile countenance. The delight, he would have
-remarked, was a fluctuating emotion; the despair in danger of becoming
-a lasting one.
-
-The two had been meeting in this way for upwards of three weeks and the
-lithographic sheets and press were all but ready for triumphant
-shipment, when Rachel's patience came unexpectedly to an end. Her
-change of front was due directly to the weather. The temperature of
-Pemoquod on a particular afternoon in late August made the wearing of
-the muslin dress seem out of the question, for the day, while bright,
-was distinctly chilly and by the time she quitted the cemetery
-according to all reasonable calculations, the air would be cold. She
-therefore made no change in her dress at all, but in her every-day
-frock, with an old drab silk shawl, which had belonged to her mother,
-over her shoulders and a book from the circulating library under her
-arm, she took her way to Old Harbour, her prospects for a pleasant
-interview considerably damaged. In this dull attire she would forego
-Emil's lightning glances of pleasure, "For he might as well look at a
-rock or a stump," she told herself disconsolately, "as look at me the
-way I am to-day."
-
-The weather beside the sea is nothing if not capricious, and by the
-time she reached the cemetery, the air had become warm. It was between
-four and five o'clock and the sun was sending long level shafts between
-the graves, as if looking for something, when Rachel took her
-accustomed place on the flat-topped tomb and let the shawl slip down
-her back till it lay about her in a semicircle of rippling folds.
-
-"Just my bad luck!" she soliloquized. "It's warm enough for a gauze
-dress if one had such a thing. But I'd like to know what's the sense
-of all this?" she resumed indignantly. "It isn't fair that he should
-judge me by my clothes entirely and I'll not have it. I've a mind as
-well as he!"
-
-Now there was no evidence that Emil had judged her as lacking this
-particular endowment, but she was in no mood to adhere closely to
-facts. She began turning the pages of her book at random. She was
-engaged in reading, with most imperfect attention it must be confessed,
-a glowing description of the sphinx, when he arrived.
-
-From a distance he spied her and she appeared to him to light up with
-her grace the whole desolate place. For eight hours he had devoted
-himself solely to work; now like one who receives but his just reward,
-he drew near with a jovial smile on his lips. Rachel, though she was
-conscious of his approach in every fibre of her being, was all for
-concealing the fact. Partly through resentment, partly through
-coquetry, she kept her eyes to her page. Suddenly Emil halted. Of a
-truth, there was material enough in the picture she made, perched there
-on the old table-tomb, for twenty conquests.
-
-Dressed in the famous muslin, the rarest quality of her beauty, a
-certain lurking mystery, was lost amid furbelows which simply
-emphasized her youth. Now clothed in a sober little frock that
-appeared to be as much part of her as its smooth bark is part of a
-sapling, there was nothing to divert attention from her actual self.
-There she sat with her book open on her lap, a kind of sibyl, while
-about her hummed and buzzed and fluttered tribes of nimble-bodied
-insects. Great blundering bees pilfered rude kisses from the willing
-lips of some pink phlox swaying at her knee, a butterfly came to rest
-on the tomb and even crawled with curious, quivering antennae toward
-the hand outspread on the stone. A thrush poured out its heart from a
-little whip of a tree over her head. In the midst of this place of
-death, she spoke compellingly of life.
-
-"I've come!"
-
-Emil's voice trembled. The blood beat in his temples.
-
-"How long have you been here?" he questioned, as he opened his hand
-grudgingly and released her fingers. "How much have I missed of you?"
-
-She ignored the form of the question. "Oh, I've not been here long, I
-think," with disconcerting calmness, "though when I have a book I lose
-all track of time."
-
-At this unexpectedly repressing manner, he moved a few paces off.
-
-"What is your book?" he inquired after a pause.
-
-"'Impressions of the Nile Country,'" and she made a motion as if to
-hand him the volume. But he kept his face away. Thereupon she plucked
-a spear of grass and placed it carefully between the pages, while a
-peculiarly significant and feminine expression played about her mouth.
-
-"Oh," she sighed with sudden fervour, "how I should like to travel!
-particularly how I should love to travel in Egypt."
-
-"But why Egypt?" and he swung round.
-
-"The sphinx;" she explained briefly. "It sits there gazing before it
-forever and forever, and it never reveals the secret of the hands that
-fashioned it, while the sun scorches it and the sands blow over it and
-will finally throttle it, I suppose, but it will never tell."
-
-With her arms crossed on her lap, she was staring at a near-by shrub.
-It was a starved old rose-bush which had long since ceased to bear, but
-she seemed to see in it a vision, for a smile unclosed her lips and
-narrowed her eyes. She looked up at him and her bosom lifted.
-
-"Yes," she repeated softly, "I should like mightily to see the sphinx."
-
-He was regarding her with a strange, fixed attention. Now he thrust
-his hands into the pockets of his jacket with a convulsive movement.
-
-"You're something by way of being a sphinx yourself," he said
-unsteadily.
-
-Reaching behind her she slowly drew up the shawl until straight folds
-of the material fell about her face. Then she extended a hand on
-either knee and gazed before her. The imitation was admirable. Not a
-feature or limb stirred. The sun penetrated the worn silken shawl and
-vaguely defined her round little form. It gilded her forehead and chin
-and traced a line of humid light along the lids of the eyes the pupils
-of which were so obstinately contemplating Eternity. But what that
-celestial body could not accomplish with its bold steady gaze, was
-given to a mortal to achieve with a single glance. St. Ives bent over
-her.
-
-The sphinx was lost in the woman.
-
-Throbbing with delicious dread, Rachel gave him her eyes. She returned
-look for look, while her breathing ceased and her little hands, still
-stretched along her knees, trembled. Lower and lower he bent his head,
-higher and higher she lifted hers, to the length of its delicate,
-palpitating throat. At the very brink--an ecstatic, troubled, reeling
-pause, then--their lids sank, their lips met.
-
-About them the insects continued their aggressive activity. A bee,
-greedy for the last drop of honey, lit on a purple aster and the whole
-light spray of blossoms swayed to his weight. The butterfly that had
-lately visited Rachel's hand, joined its mate high up in the thin blue
-air. From the branch of a sapling the thrush swelled its throat once
-more in a joyful song. Ignorant that those two motionless heads
-announced creatures differing in aught from themselves, the host of
-creeping and winged things enrolled them for the nonce in their lists.
-
-Rachel was the first to recoil from the caress. She drew
-back,--sweetly ashamed, shyly-radiant, with that in her eyes a man
-would have died rather than lessen.
-
-But on Emil the shock of the caress had a contrary effect.
-
-"In Heaven's name!" he cried, without looking at her, "forgive me."
-The words leaped forth from his very heart. He wasn't half worthy that
-kiss and he had the astonishing grace to know it.
-
-As though any apology were necessary, however, as though events could
-have happened otherwise! The kiss had been as sure to come as the
-imminent meeting of evening with deep dark night. And so Rachel, by
-her manner, seemed to say. In an anguish of expectancy she looked up
-at him--ready to be assured, or ready to be stricken in her pride as
-never maid was stricken before.
-
-Before Emil could answer, Zarah Patch appeared round a turn of the
-roadway. Concealed by hedges and clumps of shrubbery, his approach had
-been unnoticed by the pair. Now he brought the white mare to a halt
-while he shot a look at the girl. Some inkling of the gossip
-concerning his friend's young granddaughter had reached even his old
-ears.
-
-"I'm going back to the Point directly, Rachel," he called, "be ye
-inclined to come along?"
-
-She sent a mute, tremulous question to Emil. His eyes were rivetted on
-the ground. A powerful struggle was taking place within him. A desire
-for love had flamed in his heart and, with his lips on hers, for one
-brief fiery instant he had tasted the sweetness of his power over her.
-None the less, what he now experienced was an intolerable sense of
-shame. It set the seal of dignity on his ardour, if she had but
-understood. But she totally misread him.
-
-Pride sent up its secret cry: Perhaps he regretted the kiss, perhaps he
-had no right to kiss her?
-
-"Want to come along?" urged Zarah. "I've been hauling sod and the cart
-is some muddied, but if yer'e keerful gittin' in, ye won't hurt yer
-dress none."
-
-Rachel suddenly signified her assent.
-
-Emil raised his head in a singular and wild fashion. He made an
-imploring gesture. But it was too late.
-
-Under cover of a manner of perfect nonchalance she rose to the supposed
-situation. Haughtily, under his fiercely-miserable eyes and the
-curious eyes of the old man, she proceeded to the cart.
-
-Emil strode forward. He looked passionate. But she ignored his
-proffered hand and accepted Zarah's assistance into the cart. Once
-perched on the high seat, she nodded proudly in the direction of him
-whom she had so lately kissed.
-
-Like many another woman if she could have erased the tender incident
-from the scroll of her days, if she even could have told herself with
-honesty that Emil had been the only moved one, she would willingly have
-given half her life.
-
-"But I kissed him back--I did! I did! and there's no use pretending
-otherwise," she confessed in helpless stony abasement.
-
-And throughout the night, in intervals of sleeplessness, she continued
-to sigh because of the torturing memory.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-AT THE OLD BURYING POINT
-
-By the next morning the incident just recorded had taken on to Rachel a
-somewhat different tinge. Her sense of humiliation had so far abated
-as to admit of her entertaining a feeling of pity for Emil. He
-certainly had appeared a disconsolate and astounded figure as he stood
-there gazing after her as she drove away. She wished now that she had
-not left so precipitately, or, at least, that she had not declined his
-proffered assistance when mounting into the cart.
-
-By an altered reasoning the apology which had offended her yesterday,
-now gratified her. As a gentleman who had been guilty of the grave
-misdemeanour of kissing a lady, he could not have acted differently;
-for she now thrust the entire blame of the incident on his masculine
-shoulders. "It certainly was his fault in the first place," she
-argued. And, having shifted the ground of resentment from the apology
-for the kiss to the kiss itself, she resolved to forgive the wrong-doer.
-
-The greater part of the day she spent in wandering on the shore of the
-bay. Whenever she went there, instinctively she glanced at the mound
-of sand where, on the occasion of their first meeting, she had seen
-Emil bury the torn scraps of a letter. Not that she would have touched
-the mound for the world, but the strictest would not censure a glance
-of curiosity in that direction. Owing to its protection from the wind,
-the little grave, strangely enough, had remained intact. But this
-morning a scrap of paper appeared on the beach bearing, in what was
-incontestably a woman's handwriting, the single word "Dearest."
-
-Scarcely cognizant of what she did, Rachel, like a feminine Crusoe,
-hovered over this bit of evidence on the sand. Like the legendary hero
-her consciousness of being alone was destroyed, but with different
-effect, for instead of an expression of surprise not unmixed with fear,
-her look was one of suspicious misery.
-
-"That letter was never from his mother," flashed through her mind.
-"Old ladies don't make D's that way, so big and round,--but small and
-trembly. No, whoever she is, she's young. Of course," reason
-suggested, "the letter may have been written by some relative--by a
-cousin, perhaps." The supposition was barely tenable.
-
-With the keen brightness of eye that betokens jealousy, she remained
-poised for the briefest fraction of time above the tantalizing find,
-then she turned and pranced away. The instant devoted to the scrutiny
-had been so short as to admit of scarcely more than half a heart-throb,
-so short as scarcely to be termed a look at all, yet a sense of
-dishonour was not lacking in her suffering.
-
-She walked, stopped to think, shed a tear or two, and eventually grew
-calm. What comforted her was the thought that Emil cared so little for
-its writer that he had torn the letter into bits.
-
-By afternoon her anxiety to forgive him for the misdemeanour of the day
-previous had grown to such proportions as to drive her to the place of
-meeting much earlier than usual; and waiting there still further
-increased the feeling. When she saw him coming, she rose. Her arms,
-hanging down her sides, trembled. She was all languor, all expectancy;
-she was the desire for reconciliation incarnate. Yet even from a
-distance, she knew that something was wrong. She turned upon him a
-look of inquiry as he drew near with his hands sunk in his pockets and
-his head lowered.
-
-His face was clouded, his moustache curved downward, though when he
-lifted his eyes to hers, into them flashed a warm and intensely
-grateful smile. But the expression was succeeded by a gloomy one.
-
-"Well, it's all over," he announced. "No need for me to have slaved
-so. I'm thrown aside and someone else goes ahead and reaps the
-profits."
-
-"What do you mean?" she gasped.
-
-"Mean? Why I mean that my delightful employers have stolen the press,
-the sheets, the whole scheme. I wasn't quick enough and they got
-someone else to finish the thing and applied for the patent."
-
-"How do you know?"
-
-"Oh, I've been informed all right," he said and from his pocket he drew
-a letter.
-
-Involuntarily Rachel extended her hand; then her face went white. On
-the sheet that fluttered in his fingers she beheld the same childish
-chirography that had appeared on the scrap of paper on the beach. Her
-hand dropped.
-
-"It's always the same," he went on, without noticing the change that
-had come over her. And seating himself on the tomb, he took out his
-pipe. Having filled it, he commenced to smoke, his eyes widely opened,
-full of profound thought, fixed on vacancy.
-
-"Not that it makes any difference," he continued philosophically after
-a pause. "The world gets the benefit of the invention; as for me, I've
-plenty of other things in my head. I'm not crying over spilt milk,"
-and he looked up at her and laughed while the shining returned to his
-glance. Reaching out toward her he tried to take her hand. This
-movement, while bold, was not destitute of an appealing grace. It was
-a mute reference to the kiss, to their changed relations; it was also a
-demand for sympathy.
-
-At any other time Rachel would not have resisted it, but now she
-stepped out of his reach. "Who is it that informs you?" Her voice was
-implacable.
-
-He hesitated. "The daughter of one of my employers," he said in a low
-tone. "She's stood by me from the first," he admitted. "She's been in
-fact a--little trump." And then he sighed.
-
-Rachel turned away her head. "I should think you'd go to her at once,"
-she said. "I don't see why you wait here. There's a train at six."
-
-Disconcerted, he got to his feet. Their eyes locked. He glowered upon
-her.
-
-"You might be able to protect your rights," she continued in a stinging
-voice. "Then I should think, on _her_ account, if not on your
-mother's, you'd make the attempt."
-
-She saw the visible pang the mention of his mother occasioned.
-
-"I will," he cried, "I'll go." And he held out his hand.
-
-She saw that he shook from head to foot, and she knew that she had hurt
-him mortally. But every force of her passionate nature had become
-negative to all appeal from him. She could but stand with an impassive
-face and bid him go, lest he court worldly failure instead of success.
-
-And so they parted like strangers.
-
-When he had passed from her sight, Rachel sank in a little heap on the
-tomb. She bent her face on her knees. She felt as if a
-sounding-instrument had gone to the very depths of her heart and
-explored there among ambiguous weeds and mud, and as she listened to
-the message that came back, she rocked backward and forward in a very
-ecstasy of barren grief and shame. It seemed to her that she had
-reached the burying point of life, and her sobs, quick with the agony
-of youthful living, sounded small and piteous in that quiet place of
-the dead.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-THE MIGRATORY INSTINCT
-
-During the first weeks succeeding Emil's departure, Rachel looked
-feverishly for a letter. It seemed to her the intensity of her longing
-must cause one to appear. But none came, and finally she realized that
-none would come. She went about with a curled lip and a scornful eye.
-Nora Gage might run the house as she chose and cook as many savory
-dishes as she pleased, the girl did not care; she was indifferent even
-to her grandfather; but let the one or the other cross her will, and
-her anger blazed forth. These violent outbursts were nature's defence.
-
-In the painful upheaval that separated her dream from the reality, that
-which was the very centre of her higher life, suffered to such an
-extent that she must have become inert, had it not been for the
-responsibility felt by all the ruder faculties of her hardy young
-being. She had sought love, struggling albeit unconsciously, toward a
-supposed freedom; and driven back on herself, she would have become
-like a prisoner at the bottom of a cellar--bleeding, discouraged,
-without further hope--had it not been for the nerves that proved
-insurrectionary, for the temper that refused to be thwarted. The
-activity of these rescuers gradually amazed the girl herself and drew
-her from the contemplation of her trouble. But the experience, long
-after the actual pain of it had given place to a general
-dissatisfaction with existence, left its trace upon her face; and this
-tempestuous beauty, wrought from within, played around her lips in a
-smile of tragic comprehension and increased the range of her youthful
-and expressive eye.
-
-At home Nora dragged her slippers over the kitchen floor with a
-flapping sound, and at "the barn," where even the occasional customer
-had ceased to appear, André played wild airs upon his fiddle. Both
-these sounds were intolerable to Rachel and, to escape them, she fled
-to the cliffs. There, even as the cold weather came on, she sat for
-hours, with her chin buried in her hands and her eyes on the ocean--the
-ocean which, unfathomable and perpetually active, built itself into
-gigantic walls that broke against the rocks with a reverberating report
-and were sucked back emitting long murmurs.
-
-Old David, thinking that he discovered in this preoccupation with the
-sea a likeness to her father, approached Zarah Patch on the subject and
-from a distance, screwing up their eyes in the sunlight, the two
-ancient men observed her.
-
-"It's her father's blood," explained old David, "often and often I seen
-him look the same way."
-
-"It's jest female feelings," Zarah affirmed, "she ain't rightly found
-her rudder yet, and she's young. It's always so with women;"--a remark
-of unusual length and penetration for Zarah.
-
-Finally old David hit on a plan for diverting her, a plan, however,
-which was destined to increase her malady rather than to cure it. In
-the Old Harbour paper that once a week found its way to the Point,
-there appeared an account of a private car fresh from the shops which,
-for the purpose of conveying his family and friends to their home in
-the city, had been brought to Old Harbour by a wealthy summer resident.
-The car was stalled on a side track, and old David proposed to his
-granddaughter that they go and see it.
-
-It was a fine clear afternoon, and as the visit was in the nature of a
-pleasure expedition, they drove beside Zarah Patch in his cart. As
-they bowled along the road, the ruts of which were slightly stiffened
-by the frost, old David talked continuously and Rachel found herself
-listening.
-
-"You know I used to work in the car shops at Philadelphy when I was a
-young chap," he explained. "It was an immense sky-lighted place
-covered with tracks and filled from one end to t'other with cars, some
-old to be repainted and some entirely new. Winter was the time when
-the old ones used to come troopin' back to us all faded and
-travel-stained; they used to seem like old women whose finery was a
-little gone-by, who came back to see how young and spruce they could be
-made to look. And in the summer we fitted out the new ones, and they
-of course was like young things jest preparin' fer their first venture
-into the world.
-
-"I tell ye," he continued, "I used to feel about them jest as if they
-were human creatures. The men who worked there was called 'liners,'
-'sign-writers,' 'hardwood-finishers,' 'decorators,' and 'rubbers-down.'
-The 'rubbers-down' worked with emery-cloth and water, and oh my, didn't
-they have to be careful about savin' the gold paint on the old cars,
-though! For the letters and lines of gold on a car are always left to
-stand, bein' as you might say, her jewellery," he added, with a
-cackling laugh.
-
-But when the little party descended at the station, the magnificence of
-the new coach dazzled old David. He had never seen anything like it,
-though this fact he strove to conceal.
-
-"They used to decorate 'em more," he said, "they used to paint scrolls
-along the sides, and between the winders they put on yaller tulips; and
-to my mind, the cars was handsomer."
-
-The ticket agent ran across the tracks to open the new coach and the
-old man, to demonstrate his knowledge of the subject, began enumerating
-the different classes of common cars. "'P.K.' is the best of 'em," he
-proclaimed, "'P.K. Wide Vestibule'. But of course this car is
-something a little extry."
-
-When, however, the ticket agent had left them and they once more stood
-looking up at the coach, he broke forth into lyric praise of it.
-
-"'Tain't hardly been on the tracks, remember," he cried, "but think of
-the miles and miles it has to run, through what different kinds of
-country. It'll be like a good soldier followin' the leader! But the
-engine! Oh, that's the master of 'em all!" he continued; "great,
-shinin', pantin' master, that's what the engine is, the master."
-
-Rachel looked at the car as at a traveller who is about to start on a
-long journey. Once she had seen the wife of the owner with a party of
-friends, and she began filling the seats of the new coach with these
-people. Oh, the ladies, the softly-turned heads; the nicely-dressed
-children--no common folk were to ride in this car! And she imagined
-how they would be carried forward, the rolling of the wheels growing
-ever swifter and swifter; and then how they would arrive at that spot,
-glimmering with a million lights, tumultuous and confused, the city
-containing great homes.
-
-On the drive back to the Point, she closed her eyes the better to
-pursue her thoughts, and her grandfather's words mingled with them like
-something heard in a dream.
-
-"Sometimes, not often, I used to paint station signs," he said, "and
-after I'd finished the name of a place--maybe it was Kingston, or maybe
-it was only Smithville,--I used to think how the sign would be hung at
-the end of a long platform or perhaps jest posted against a little shed
-of a buildin' in the midst of a great prairie, and I used to think of
-the rain and the snow that'd blow against it, and most blot out the
-letters, and the little birds that would perch on it; and somehow I
-felt as if I had been to the places jest through paintin' of the signs."
-
-Rachel pictured the earth webbed with tracks like veins, and she saw
-the ships following certain appointed routes over seas; and again, as
-in the past, it appeared to her that she was the one stagnant thing in
-an active creation.
-
-"But the signs I liked to paint best," resumed her grandfather's
-tremulous voice, "were the _Stop-Look-Listen_ signs, and the
-_Railroad-Crossin'--Look Out For The Engine_. They are made of cast
-steel now and the letters are raised, but in my time they was of wood,
-tall white posts with a pointin' arm, like ghosts givin' warnin'."
-
-
-It seemed to the girl that at all costs she must set herself free and
-become a part of a moving and active world. But how transgress the law
-that had placed her there on the Maine coast, without experience and
-without outlet for all the various capacities of her being? From that
-time she began to coax her grandfather to leave Pemoquod.
-
-"The president of the car shops who gave you this house," she began one
-evening, winding her arms about his neck, "if you looked him up--"
-
-"Nicholas Hart ain't in Philadelphy no longer," objected the old man.
-"I seen in the papers years ago about the car shops failin' when he had
-'em, and then about his movin' to New York City."
-
-"Yes, I know that," she assented, "now if you looked him up, he'd
-probably get you a nice easy position in New York. But I don't intend
-you shall work much longer," she continued, "and that's just the point;
-I ought to be doing something to support us both. But what can I do
-here?"
-
-In vain old David protested that he did not wish her to work, she
-overruled him, the more easily because his ever-youthful heart was
-pleased with the idea of a change. Then, too, he was lapsing into his
-second childhood and as time went on he allowed himself to be guided
-more and more by her.
-
-Nora Gage was no match for the pair. She had conceived a fondness for
-the kitchen, for the stove, for the very pots and pans; moreover, the
-food that she was able to get in this house was to her liking,
-especially now, when secure from observation, she fried, stirred and
-seasoned to her heart's content. No longer driven to eat these
-supplementary luncheons in the privacy of her own chamber, surrounded
-by her mice like St. Francis by his birds, she ate when and where she
-chose, even under the eyes of the abstracted girl. It must not be
-concluded that she was ignorant of any detail of the plan that was on
-foot. No one knew, better than she, through listening at the cracks of
-doors, what was going forward. And anon she would be servile before
-Rachel, through sheer apprehension, and again would rage inwardly to
-think that the coming change in her fortunes was due to a brat of a
-girl. The grandfather, by the force of that will which existed in the
-depths of her being like a seldom-used sword in a scabbard, Nora could
-have managed; but Rachel was beyond the range of her power. However,
-when the announcement of the great news was finally made to her, her
-plea was ready.
-
-"And what's to become of me, miss?" she demanded. "For more years than
-ye've lived I've served yer grandfather faithful, and now at a word
-from ye I'm turned off with no place to go."
-
-Rachel, sitting on the arm of her grandfather's chair, regarded the
-housekeeper coldly. "Why can't you go back in the meat-market with
-your cousin?" she asked; "grandfather says you used to be there."
-
-"Yes, but his son's growed up now and he don't need me," and Nora began
-to turn a corner of her apron over one stodgy finger. "It was jest as
-my friends warned me," she whimpered, "they said I'd be sorry if I
-stayed on here after yer mother died. I've sacrificed everything for
-ye two and ye don't seem to know it." She ended with a guttural sob.
-
-Rachel scanned her with a swift glance from head to foot. "What have
-you sacrificed for us?" she asked. "Haven't you been paid?"
-
-"Yes, but there's some things that can't be paid for," Nora muttered.
-"A woman can't stay in a man's house the way I have without its costing
-her dear."
-
-The girl stared, then the clear colour stained her face. "Nonsense!"
-she cried.
-
-"It may seem nonsense to you, miss," Nora retorted, "I can well
-understand that it do--actin' as you did awhile back. But it ain't
-nonsense to the world. I might as well be like that poor thing at the
-lighthouse 'stead of the decent woman I am, as far as the world knows.
-I've give up everything for ye two, that's what I have, and this is the
-way I git treated," and she began sobbing in earnest.
-
-The old man gazed from one to the other in bewilderment. He saw his
-granddaughter rise and heard her draw a sharp breath, and he saw the
-housekeeper cower and drop her eyes.
-
-Rachel passed to a window and stood there for some seconds; then a
-whiff of cookery from the kitchen stirred in her a kind of pity.
-Through a crack of the door was revealed that for which Nora struggled
-and schemed. To have food in plenty, greasy, rich food, this was the
-one desire of Nora's life.
-
-"Grandfather," she said softly and a little wearily, without looking at
-the woman, "if you are willing, we'll take Nora with us."
-
-Of all this interesting parley which betrayed itself in the
-late-burning lamp at the Beckett house, André Garins caught not an
-inkling. He slept above in the lighthouse, or, when chance favoured,
-below in his bed; and cut off as he was from news, he remained ignorant
-of the proposed flight.
-
-Occasionally, after he had polished the crystal lenses and the brass
-trimmings of the lantern, his duties over for the day, he tapped at the
-Beckett door; but Rachel was too busy to see him: and to escape the
-belligerent eyes of Captain Daniels who drank secretly but heavily as
-the cold weather came on, he betook himself to the deserted barn.
-
-Blown upon by all the winds of heaven, with whisperings at every crack
-and meanings in its loosened timbers, "the barn" was André's retreat.
-Far from finding it dismal, he had only to light a fire in the cracked
-stove and whip out his fiddle; and henceforth, it became a cheerful and
-friendly abode. He was too close to nature to be rendered unhappy by
-mere loneliness. The booming of the sea against the cliffs and the
-sighing of the wind in the vastnesses of the sedgegrass, but lit in him
-a fiercer gayety.
-
-Up to this time André had resembled one of those unobtrusive plants
-which encumber the highway, but which are apt to escape notice until
-the flowering season. He was as handsome as an animal, a child or any
-other natural thing, and of the primitive soul at the bottom of him,
-his large and rolling eye revealed little. But the hour comes when the
-humble flower arrests our attention, if only for the fraction of a
-moment, by opening a corolla of exquisite perfection.
-
-It was on a day in late autumn after the first snow had vanished from
-the earth, leaving it wistful and half-chastened, that Rachel sought
-out André. It was to be expected that her schoolfellow would feel
-sharp regret at her news, and for this reason she had delayed
-enlightening him until the last moment. They stood some distance from
-"the barn" in the pale sunlight and as she began to speak, he looked
-straight into her eyes with a kind of uncomprehending terror. Scarcely
-had she finished when he sank to the ground as if felled by a blow.
-
-"Say you didn't mean it," he moaned, and at her dress she felt his
-clinging hands while his forehead rested hot against her feet.
-
-She lifted his head and saw his mouth twisting like a child's, while
-from his eyes poured two steady streams of tears.
-
-"Why André!" she cried, and with a movement of almost maternal
-compassion, she put her arms about him. Thus drawn against the sky,
-the young pair vaguely suggested the group of Niobe and her child.
-
-"Say you won't leave me," he moaned, "say we'll be married and you'll
-never, never leave me."
-
-Softly she stroked his hair while gazing straight before her. Through
-a sort of prescience she knew that this humble and suppliant love was
-sweeter and more fathomless than anything that would come to her again.
-
-"No, André dear," she said finally, "I can't stay just living on day
-after day, and all the days just alike; I can't because there's
-something _here_," and she touched her heart, "that won't let me. All
-the same," she continued, "I'm not sure that you're not wiser. You'll
-stay here patiently, and, after a fashion, you'll be happy, I suppose.
-But it won't be that way with me," she added, with a prophetic shake of
-the head; "I shall not be patient and so--"
-
-But André comprehended nothing save the fact that the innermost hope of
-his being was in ruins. He was sobbing now with even more abandon and
-through the texture of her dress Rachel felt the pure warmth of his
-tears.
-
-"Look, André," she said, "do you see that they are burning wrecks down
-there--the lumber of those fishing boats that came ashore last spring.
-Why are they doing it?"
-
-He raised his wet eyes and followed the direction of her pointing
-finger.
-
-"It's because they want to use the iron bolts that screw them
-together," she continued. "In just the same way, life treats us--like
-wrecked barks, and the flames sweep over us, so that at last all that
-is left is the iron strength of us." She finished almost in a whisper,
-as if she had forgotten him.
-
-It was clear that André's soul would continue to cling to her soul like
-the lichen to the wood, the ivy to the tree. And this he knew, even
-while he mourned the material separation.
-
-Presently more matter-of-fact words brought him to himself. He ceased
-weeping, and rising, stood at her bidding.
-
-"You'll see about the trunk lock," she said, "right away; and you'll
-meet grandfather and go with him to buy the tickets. I'll see you
-again in the morning, but this is the real goodbye."
-
-His face was as calm as hers now, even the longing in it had died.
-Seeing him thus--being no Spartan, but soft woman every inch--her arms
-went about his neck and her lips met his. While the two young
-creatures stood thus the sun, faintly pink, sank into the sea and a
-cold wind blew over the land.
-
-Rachel had disappeared but André had gone scarcely a hundred yards when
-he flung himself face downward. With his hands knotted among the
-sedgegrass, he wept without sound. A locust that had been lured from
-its retreat by the warmth of the day, looked at him from the stalk of a
-plantain, then changed its location to less violently agitated
-quarters; only the shaking of some denuded stalks marked where the boy
-lay.
-
-Because of the insubmission, bravery and perseverance of a young girl,
-the old weather-beaten house of the former lobsterman was forsaken. No
-more would its rooms echo to the sound of voices, and footsteps would
-no more pass its thresholds; its doors were closed. The sunlight would
-penetrate into its unused rooms and trace the accustomed pattern on
-floor and wall; no one would know. And on roof and steps the rain
-would beat its old friendly reveille. Sagging in roof and beam under
-the drifted snow of winter, denuded in summer of shutter and shingle,
-gradually the abandoned house would disappear from the landscape;
-little by little it would vanish like a nest that the birds have
-forsaken.
-
-When the hour for the departure arrived, several of the good wives of
-the Point appeared. They formed a little group around Rachel. One of
-them straightened her hat, another retied the scarf around her neck;
-then they shook hands with her gravely, looking at her with dimmed
-eyes. Rachel strained her gaze in the direction of the lighthouse and
-saw Lizzie Goodenough standing with a parcel in her hands. Instantly
-the girl darted up the rocky path and the two embraced, while the
-others exchanged glances.
-
-Old David, all eagerness to be off, had clambered into the cart in
-which a quantity of household gear had been packed, and sat there
-holding the reins; while Zarah Patch helped André bring out the one
-trunk and several bags and boxes. At last all was in readiness, when
-Nora Gage discovered an important item of luncheon unprepared for
-transportation. Several baskets were offered, and in the confusion,
-Rachel made her escape.
-
-Arrived at the bay shore, flushed and panting, she stooped with a
-graceful movement and laid her cheek against the wreck, while with her
-hand she patted that shadowy collection of letters that still in washed
-out reds and blues formed a name no wind nor tide could efface.
-_Defender_! Warped, dislocated, destroyed, its tarry timbers pierced
-with innumerable holes, its dismal hulk filled with the last lamentable
-cargo of seawrack and sand, the wreck lifted its broken ribs like arms
-toward the girl. From what would it restrain her? From what did it
-seek to defend her?
-
-Rising, she approached and stood before the figure-head, and the
-figure-head looked back at her and, as it were, over and beyond her.
-With a timid movement, Rachel kissed this old comrade also. Then she
-ran away, and a moment later she looked back, and there she saw
-her--that "great-kneed, deep-breasted" Goddess of Hope--with her face
-set toward the Unknown,--valiant, free!
-
-
-
-
-BOOK II
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-THE STREET OF MASTS
-
-"He saw you in the shop that time long ago, Grandfather, and understood
-that the paint had affected you?"
-
-"Yes, it were the lead in the white paint that poisoned me," agreed
-David; "I'd been paintin' cattle cars pretty stiddy, which was a job
-most on 'em tried to skip."
-
-"I see, and the superintendent told Mr. Hart how faithfully you'd
-worked and the result was that he sent you this letter with a deed for
-the house at the Point. It shows that he thought a great deal of you;
-and even if we shouldn't be able to find him," she continued with a
-shade of apprehension, "it seems to me this letter, old as it is, ought
-to help in getting you some sort of a position, just temporarily."
-
-"But it ain't _some_ sort of a position I'm wantin'," the other
-objected, "it's a railroad position; and though railroad corporations
-is one thing," he continued, "and car shops is another, still they do
-business together constant; and I guess we'll find the Big Middletown
-people know all about Nicholas Hart when we ask 'em."
-
-And so these two, the one so lately emerged from childhood and the
-other just reëntering it, started on their quest, and from their eyes
-looked out the same innocence, ignorance and unquenchable hope.
-
-"I'll feel safer about Grandfather when he's occupied," thought the
-girl, "but it must be light work, I'll insist upon that; and then
-directly I'll find something to do myself."
-
-Since their arrival in the city a fortnight before, old David had
-manifested a growing irresponsibility. Deprived of his accustomed
-occupations and transferred to the streets of the metropolis, he had
-become like a ship without a rudder. So far, his driftings had been as
-pleasant as they were aimless, but more than once he had been lost,
-more than once, following the lead of his errant curiosity, had barely
-escaped serious accident. And there was no telling how soon the
-threatening dangers of the new existence might overwhelm him.
-Insensibly, in the midst of his delight, he looked to the young girl
-for guidance. She it was who had settled them in their present
-quarters, three small rooms at the top of an old building in lower New
-York, rooms selected because of their cheapness and because two windows
-overlooked a wharf at which foreign ships were tethered while a third
-window looked toward the west. She it was who had added to their
-meagre stock of house plenishings at push-carts and cheap shops.
-Indeed, she it was who had assumed entire responsibility for the
-undertaking.
-
-Nora Gage, who now received a lower wage than formerly, and in
-consequence performed only such duties as she chose, grumbled
-constantly. The poor fare on which Rachel and the old man subsisted
-filled her with disgust, and she would have gratified her gastronomic
-preferences out of her savings of twenty years, had it not been that
-the queer foreign foods, in which the markets of the neighbourhood
-abounded, were not to her taste. Even old David at moments was
-inclined to be fractious, and Rachel, who had wilfully played the part
-of Fate to these two, was forced to listen as patiently as she could to
-their criticisms.
-
-On the afternoon in question when she emerged from the house with her
-grandfather, the old man scowled; for the street was dank with mist and
-clamorous with the roar of the nearby "elevated."
-
-"This ain't a nice street," he complained, "I don't like the smell on
-it, and with everything swallowed up in the fog so, we can't see the
-only thing worth seein'--the ships."
-
-"But perhaps we can later; when we come back the fog may be gone,"
-Rachel comforted him. However, a touch of the cold and damp seemed to
-threaten her own heart.
-
-By dint of timid inquiries, at the end of two hours' weary searching,
-the bewildered pair found themselves in a Broadway office of the
-Middletown road. But the clerk to whom they made known their quest,
-shook his small, well-combed head at them.
-
-"It's to Philadelphia you ought to have gone, Uncle," he said, while a
-smile wrinkled the flesh beneath his prominent eyes. "We know nothing
-about your car shops here. As for this letter, it's a bit ancient,"
-and he handed it back.
-
-Rachel flushed. "My grandfather wishes to obtain work in New York,"
-she said. "We showed you the letter merely as a credential, thinking
-perhaps you might know Mr. Nicholas Hart--if he is still living," she
-added with a pang of fear.
-
-The man glanced at the handsome girl and the boldness, the
-indestructible animation of sex, flashed in his pale eyes. "I'm
-sorry," he said in a voice which he strove to make respectful, "but I
-do not know him. However, I've no doubt if you go--"
-
-"Is it Nicholas Hart you're speaking of?" interrupted an older clerk
-who had been an interested listener to the conversation. "Yes, he's
-still living, I think. Years ago he used to be one of the owners of
-the car shops in Philadelphia; that's right. If I'm not mistaken he's
-living now with his son Simon Hart who is a jeweller in some street in
-the Thirties. Here, I'll look him up for you. The residence is near
-Washington Arch," he added, returning after a moment; "I've written the
-address on this card."
-
-Rachel thanked him and, ignoring the younger clerk who ran officiously
-to open the door for them, she passed out, followed by old David.
-
-"Now wasn't that the slickest thing ye ever saw," he exulted, "I told
-ye how folks, especially the older ones, would know all about Nicholas
-Hart. We can walk there, can't we, Rachel?"
-
-"We can walk part of the way," she responded with a sigh.
-
-From childhood she had been taught to look upon Nicholas Hart as a
-benefactor and in her dreams it had been to him that she had seen
-herself appealing for advice. Now the fact that Nicholas Hart, in case
-they were fortunate enough to find him, would be an old man, entered
-her mind for the first time.
-
-Young and serious, she walked on lost in meditation, merely keeping a
-restraining hand upon her grandfather, who threatened every moment to
-quit her side. His eyes under his white tufted eyebrows shone like
-sapphires and an innocent and childlike delight radiated from him.
-More than one jaded pedestrian turned to look after the refreshing pair
-who, in that crowded Broadway, suggested a hooded violet and a slightly
-withered buttercup blowing in the sun.
-
-When they reached the space in front of the Herald building, old David
-planted himself on the walk and insisted on waiting until the two
-bronze figures above the clock struck the hour; but when they reached
-the Farragut statue he sank down on the architectural seat.
-
-"These pavements don't give none," he said plaintively.
-
-"We'll just rest a minute," Rachel soothed him.
-
-With a tender movement she placed the end of her worn scarf around his
-neck and forced him to lean his head on her shoulder. Almost at once
-he fell into the light slumber which is nature's most beneficent gift
-to infancy and old age.
-
-Under the rays of the February sun the mist had disappeared and in the
-air there was a springlike warmth. Rachel, turning her head, read the
-words of the inscription traced on the back of the seat; then her eyes
-travelled upward to the Admiral, who, by his staunch and determined
-air, seemed to convert the stone base into the deck of a vessel. And
-immediately the city ceased to terrify her and bravery rose in her in a
-flood.
-
-The Hart house had once been a cheerful mansion, but its home-like
-aspect had long since given place to an air of cold and pathetic
-reserve.
-
-The knock was answered by a smartly-dressed maid with a crafty yet
-heedless air. On Rachel's inquiring for Mr. Nicholas Hart, the girl
-eyed them with sharp suspicion.
-
-"Mr. Hart don't ever see anyone," she said.
-
-"He once showed my grandfather a great kindness," Rachel explained,
-"and I thought perhaps he might remember--"
-
-"He don't remember much," interrupted the other; "but I suppose you can
-go along up," she admitted, after a further scrutiny of the pair from
-whom, it was clear, there was nothing to fear. "He remembers faces
-sometimes; you'll have to climb the stairs though," she added
-maliciously.
-
-Rachel helped her grandfather up the three flights of stairs and the
-servant rapped on the attic door.
-
-"Come in," piped a voice which sounded like the note of a cracked
-flute. And old David and Rachel entered.
-
-The attic was wide and sunny and in the recess of a gable window stood
-a very little old man with a face fair and pink as a child's and with a
-skull cap on the back of his white head. He turned with one delicate
-hand resting on the barrel of a microscope. On perceiving the servant
-his eyes grew round with fury.
-
-"Get out of here!" he shrilled, and, ignoring the strangers, he flew
-straight at the maid, skipping over the floor with remarkable
-briskness, his coat-tails moving like the wings of a maddened bird.
-The girl retreated with a laugh.
-
-Old David presented his letter. In the presence of his host, who was
-as airy and, seemingly as fragile-lived as a figure traced upon a
-window-pane of a frosty morning, old David appeared endowed with the
-sturdiness of youth. "Years ago when I was a paintin' of cars," he
-began; but Nicholas Hart sent the letter, from which he had not removed
-the envelope, whirling across the floor.
-
-"Cars," he cried, "run on wheels, but look at these wings,--" and with
-a finger shaking with excitement he pointed to the microscope. "Don't
-they beat all the wheels in creation?" he demanded.
-
-In answer to his gesture, old David peeped timidly into the instrument;
-then he straightened himself and the face which he turned toward the
-other expressed a world of simple wonderment.
-
-"Eh, what did I tell you?" exclaimed Nicholas exultingly. "And look
-here! and here!" he cried, placing one slide after another under the
-lens.
-
-Finding herself forgotten, Rachel left the absorbed pair and went
-downstairs to wait for her grandfather. Her glimpse of Nicholas Hart
-had convinced her that no help could be expected from him.
-
-"I told you he wasn't used to seeing folks," commented the maid who
-appeared in the hall. "He's touched here," and she indicated her head.
-"He thinks I mean to destroy a book he's writing about the house-fly,
-because once I mixed up his papers. Your grandfather's all right that
-way, is he?" she asked.
-
-"Certainly he is," responded Rachel, and after a few further remarks
-that elicited no reply, the servant retreated. But from the dining
-room, where she rather obviously engaged herself with some sewing, she
-kept strict watch over the stranger.
-
-Rachel, seated on a low settle, threw an indifferent glance about her.
-Then, almost insensibly her attitude changed. She was seized with an
-indefinable feeling. This house, with its purely masculine
-furnishings, for some reason suggested to her mind the image of a life
-darkened and repressed. The hall, the drawing-room, the dining room
-were like a succession of gloomy thoughts. Portieres, rich in texture
-but indeterminate in hue, outlined the doors with their dismal folds;
-and the drawing-room chairs and armchairs were upholstered in rep of
-the same shade.
-
-In the drawing-room the mantel-piece was adorned with an ill-assorted
-collection of candle-sticks, match-safes, inlaid boxes; and in the
-centre was an elaborate clock of an elegant modern design, violently at
-odds with the homely daguerreotype of a woman which flanked it on one
-side and a vase of an ugly pattern on the other. A nude figure,
-atrociously modelled, supported the vase in the form of a flower and
-might have been kissing a hand to the patient becapped countenance in
-the daguerreotype; otherwise the various objects bore no closer
-relation one to another than the articles on the counter in a shop. On
-the floor, before a pier-glass, was a plate on a support of twisted
-wire. Household gods were present in abundance, but chilly, silent,
-they imparted no charm of life to the vastness of the apartment.
-
-In the dining room, however, this effect was slightly modified. It was
-the room apparently where the master spent most of his time when at
-home; and, as if in preparation for his arrival, a discreet fire had
-been started in the grate. Unlike the more material accessories, the
-fire did all that it could to impart its own peculiar charm to the
-room. It leaped as high as possible; its beams were reflected in the
-polished case of the pianola, its rays were caught by the glass doors
-of the cupboard which contained the records, its gleams were imprisoned
-in tangled rainbows in the cut glass and silver of the sideboard. The
-laughing light, indeed, like an impolite guest, seemed, in the absence
-of the host, to occupy the table laid staidly for one, and delicately
-to help itself to the wine, to the fruit, to all that the board held,
-with rosy, caressing, immaterial fingers.
-
-Toward this distant point of comparative cheer Rachel turned her eyes
-with troubled interest. To the finely organized there are in life few,
-if any, absolutely unheralded events. Now she hung over the problem of
-the personality suggested by these surroundings with a tremour of
-premonition--a fact which she recalled later with amazement.
-
-Presently a latch key grated in the lock and the street door was opened
-with extreme caution. A gentleman entered wrapped in a long overcoat.
-He did not immediately perceive Rachel. Divesting himself of the coat,
-he blew imaginary particles of dust from its sable collar and hung it
-on the rack; then he removed his hat and disclosed a long head, bare on
-top, and trimmed with a sparse fringe of hair. This hair he proceeded
-to smooth into place with quick motions of his hands; he even drew his
-fingers through it. Then he turned round.
-
-Her scrutiny was older than his, and the prophetic, vague apprehension
-had mounted, mounted. She glanced aside; he could not.
-
-There are moments when surprise stirs a mind like a stick thrust into a
-pool. The ordinarily clear surface of the water reveals sodden leaves,
-mud, perhaps even shrinking plants; the eye usually enigmatic,
-unfathomable, reveals hidden weaknesses, sins, temerities. When he
-beheld her, a young girl, seated in his hall, in Simon Hart's hollow
-cheek the blood slowly mantled. He was as clean-shaven as a monk, save
-for the barely indicated line of a moustache above the narrow lips.
-His nose was handsome, though pointed; his chin was cleft. One ear was
-a little higher than the other.
-
-After a perceptible pause he passed her, bowing slightly, and proceeded
-through the drawing-room with his soft tread. His legs were short, but
-his shoulders and head were imposing. He was like a building begun by
-a carpenter and finished by an architect.
-
-In the dining room he approached the sideboard and poured some liquor
-from a decanter. He did not, however, drink the liquor, but stood
-holding the glass. And this vision of him was reflected in the dining
-room mirror, caught again in the small mirror above the hall-rack and
-repeated indefinitely in the bevellings. Rachel was unfamiliar with
-Piranesi's series of engravings in which the artist is represented
-climbing an everlasting staircase, or this multiplied vision of Simon
-Hart, continued through one room after another, until he disappeared
-with his glass in the border of the last mirror, might have suggested
-to her a similar allegory. She directed toward him a second glance,
-wistful, unconsciously searching, and at that moment her grandfather
-descended the stairs and the servant appeared to show them out. In the
-open Rachel straightway forgot all presentiments and the meeting wore
-in her memory an aspect ordinary enough.
-
-Old David was elated. "I tell ye, I never see anything like what he's
-got up there," he cried. "There's butterfly wings all sparklin' with
-jewels, and mosquito legs--"
-
-Rachel taking his arm, guided him toward a car. Not an allusion to the
-real object of the call fell from the old man's lips. All memory of
-their purpose had apparently escaped him on the instant of his
-introduction into that sphere of ideal beauties. His face shone like a
-child's. Looking at him Rachel smiled a little sadly. How absolutely
-irresponsible he was, and how she had erred when she had withdrawn him
-from the simple duties which had acted as an anchor for his fantastic
-mind. Yet was not that which he expressed the highest poetry? The
-essence of an abstract delight was in him and shone through him,
-transforming his aged frame as an elixir transforms the delicate goblet
-that contains it. His eyes blazed, his lips were wreathed in smiles,
-and suddenly he no longer seemed to her an old man entering the drear
-regions of second childhood, but a seer, a bard, a singing poet,
-chanting a chant of Beauty, which is immortal. And because she was
-spirit of his spirit as well as flesh of his flesh, she nestled to him;
-and, seated side by side, they were conveyed rapidly through the city
-which resounded with the unparalleled bustle and confusion that
-precedes the subsidence and comparative silence of the night.
-
-When they descended from the elevated station and turned into the
-"Street of Masts," as old David termed the alley in which they lived,
-he paused, "Jest--look a there!" he said, and extended a finger.
-
-The sun shone on the muddy pools beside the road and into the
-inexpressibly weary eyes of horses. It glinted on the hair of the
-ragged children swarming in the doorways and put an added blush on the
-cheeks of apples swinging by the stems at the doors of tiny fruit shops
-and on stands. It made the outlines of factory stacks indistinct,
-enveloped in a haze. The sun, shining through streaks and trails and
-plumes of smoke, made the city appear to be waving flags of glory--the
-glory of a dream.
-
-"And the ships--let's go and see what they've brought in," whispered
-the old man, and, in a kind of awe, the two approached the wharf where
-were ranged those patient, graceful visitors from foreign ports.
-
-Their masts towering against the sky, the ships suggested a fantastic
-forest, or a chimerical orchard, for the undulations of the water
-imparted to them a gentle motion, so that they seemed to be in the act
-of shedding their gracious and varied fruits on the wharf. There were
-skins of mountain goats from Switzerland, and elephant tusks from
-Egypt; there was oil golden with the sunlight of Italy and there were
-winecasks bursting with the purple sweetness of her vineyards. There
-were bales of textile fabrics from China, there were strange-leaved
-plants, with their roots bound tightly in canvas, from the isles of
-Bermuda. It seemed to Rachel that all these fruits from every land and
-clime were treasures poured bounteously into the lap of a mystical
-city; and the last vestige of that fear, so foreign to her nature and
-so little to be harboured there in all the coming years, vanished from
-her heart. Were they not, she asked herself, in the land of
-fulfilment, in the city of realized dreams?
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-EMILY SHORT--TOY-MAKER
-
-When the bells of St. Joseph trembled into motion, Emily Short opened
-her eyes; when those inverted cups of bronze began to move faster,
-flinging their summons over the roofs, tossing it in at open windows,
-emptying it into narrow courts, she arose. When the parish father,
-still half asleep, donned his robes and straightened his stole, she put
-the last pin in her collar and tied on her apron. When he began to say
-mass, she began to hum a tune; and as the high-sounding Latin escaped
-through the trefoiled windows, her artless warble escaped through the
-attic casement, and together the two strains, the one from the heart of
-the Church and the other from the heart of a woman, ascended straight
-to the throne of the good God and who shall say they were not equally
-acceptable?
-
-Outwardly Emily was no friend of the church. Its frequent services,
-she declared, were disturbing, and a room on the other side of the
-house with a view of the ships and the wharfage would have been a deal
-more to her mind. However, it was noticeable that whenever one of these
-rooms fell vacant she held her peace and abode in her attic as tightly
-as a limpet in its shell when danger is toward. It must be confessed
-that she clung to the church very much as a limpet clings to its chosen
-rock. For forty years she had lived close to the church, for forty
-years been keenly alive to its spirit of consolation. Though
-unencumbered with a creed, Emily was a staunch reformer and the church
-represented a strong ally.
-
-On a summer morning, by merely craning her neck, she could peer down
-through an open window and learn who were present of her special
-following. If she spied the old charwoman, whose honesty was not above
-suspicion, or Dan, who stole grain on the wharves, she nodded her head
-with satisfaction. It was more than possible, she considered, even if
-the priest's exhortations were lost on their befuddled minds, that the
-pure strong notes of the organ might reach their consciences, the
-beautiful colours of the windows cause some expansion of their dwarfed
-souls. So she completed her survey like an inquiring angel, then
-settled to her work of the day.
-
-Emily trimmed hats, furnishing them for a Division Street milliner, and
-earned a very comfortable livelihood; for she trimmed with an abandon,
-a daring, a freedom that no other trimmer could equal. That she might
-have full scope for the expression of her individuality, she was
-granted the privilege of working at home instead of under the eye of
-her employer. She was regarded as an artist, and more than once her
-creations had changed the prevailing styles in that section. If Emily,
-canny soul, had her own ideas about the beauty of her hats, she kept
-them to herself and it is not for me to reveal them. It was sufficient
-that the hats suited the heads they were intended to adorn. Humming
-under her breath, she curled and looped and tied and twisted with such
-swiftness that the room was filled with the shimmer of satin, the
-flutter of laces, the darting of wings, the bursting of flowers; and so
-unremitting was her industry that by night the wire frames, delivered
-to her in the morning, had been converted into veritable traps for the
-captivation of men's hearts.
-
-Working away through the long hours, all the vanity that had never
-found expression in her own life, flew into her needle; she placed
-feathers at an irresistible angle, sewed buckles and bows in telling
-positions. When she fared along the streets, quiet and demure,
-carrying her great pile of boxes, who would have guessed that she was a
-great matchmaker? Yet such was the case. And when she met one of her
-creations, brave and flaunting as youth itself, accompanied by a male
-hat, she knew that her work was succeeding. When the hats proclaimed a
-maid and a lad, her spirits rose; but when they proclaimed an errant
-wife and her admirer, her spirits clouded.
-
-For once they had left her hands with all their potency for good or
-evil, Emily had no more control over her hats than a parent over the
-children that have quitted the hearth. Sometimes her pangs were so
-sharp at what she witnessed that for days she trimmed with a sobriety,
-a propriety that was the despair of her employers. Indeed, she fairly
-sewed a sermon into the hats until a protest of loud-voiced dismay
-stayed her hand. Thereupon the full tide of her remorse was diverted
-into another channel.
-
-All who came to her she helped, as was her custom, with money, with
-food, with influence; but her lectures, always forcible, now became
-inspired. She rated them eloquently, and such an admiration did she
-exhibit for virtue, and such detestation for evil, that the indigent,
-the drunken, the lazy, went away not only consoled but strengthened in
-the "inner man."
-
-Emily's philosophy was comprehended in one word. Work for brain and
-hand, body and soul,--work was the world's salvation, she declared; and
-right staunchly, in her own life, did she demonstrate the truth of this
-theory. Nor did her labours cease with the hours of daylight.
-
-The setting of the sun witnessed a change in her occupation. With the
-lighting of the gas all the hats that had not been delivered, went to
-roost, like an array of tropical birds, behind a curtain; and from a
-corner where it had stood neglected all day, came forth her little
-work-bench. Forthwith Emily began the practice of the cunning craft
-that was to her the highest of the arts. Between the fine ardour of
-the youthful Cellini, as he approached his delicate metals after an
-irksome day in his father's shop, and Emily's grave exaltation as she
-seated herself at the bench, there was not the difference of a jot.
-The thing that we create matters nothing, the divine desire to create
-is all; and whether we design a medal for a pontiff's honour or a toy
-for a child's delight, the object is but a little door through which
-the soul wings to freedom.
-
-Emily had a dream, an ambition. Her ambition was to make toys and one
-day to see a whole army of them performing on the walks of the popular
-uptown districts where shoppers throng. To this end she twisted wires
-with her claw-like fingers, and, as she lacked the proper tools, her
-fingers were often bruised; to this end she soldered together and
-hammered into shape. And right fairly did her toys represent her, for,
-disgusted with the laziness of humanity, Emily endowed her race of tiny
-men and women with a perfect passion for industry. They seemed
-obsessed with the notion, and though the work that engaged them would
-still be unfinished when the spring of their life ran down, was not
-this the crowning fact in the history of all brave effort? So Emily
-continued to announce her theory even through her toys.
-
-On a certain sultry morning she had barely settled herself near the
-window and carefully threaded her first needle, when she dropped the
-work in her lap.
-
-"There, I haven't made the acquaintance of that child yet," she
-murmured. "Judging from the smell of cooking they have enough to eat.
-But something's amiss and I must get her to tell me what it is."
-
-Chance favoured Emily, for that evening as she was starting forth with
-a load of bright-coloured bandboxes, she encountered her youthful
-neighbour. The girl was mounting the stairs languidly. The warm
-weather had sapped her vitality, already undermined by the air of the
-city. Emily nodded cheerily, and purposely let fall one of the boxes.
-Rachel turned.
-
-"Here, I'll pick it up for you," she cried; then, after a moment,
-"Won't you let me help you with them? I can do it as well as not."
-
-Together they emerged into the lighted street.
-
-Though she looked about her with a kind of wistful wonderment, the
-sordidness of the scenes through which they passed, did not seem really
-to touch Rachel. Emily kept glancing at her and marked how her
-childish passionateness was mingled with a suggestive reticence. It
-was clear that some saddening experience had already come to her.
-"Poor lamb!" muttered Emily. When a man with a lurching gait passed
-too close to Rachel, Emily nudged him savagely with the boxes; and when
-they turned into Division Street, not one of the crew of strident women
-who solicit trade for the shops, dared to accost her young charge. Not
-a few of these poor creatures, recognizing Emily, ceased long enough in
-their chant of "Nice hats! pretty hats!" to give the popular trimmer
-"good-evening."
-
-Joseph Stedenthal's "Emporium" boasted a millinery department, of which
-his wife had charge, and a general merchandise and furniture department
-over which he himself presided. Everything the push-carts furnished,
-he furnished a little cheaper--at least a penny cheaper; and this
-stock, as proclaimed by his advertisement, was "displayed to invite the
-refined mind."
-
-Joseph Stedenthal, staunchly backed by his wife and daughter, expressed
-a profound scorn for the push-carts and for all who bought and sold
-therefrom, and never in the bosom of his family was it hinted that he
-himself, in a not too remote past, had prospered finely as the owner of
-a cart. Now he had a dignified air of superiority, and only women who
-did not go bare-headed, came to his shop, women who made some pretence
-to style. His was the "exclusive" shop of the street.
-
-Mrs. Stedenthal was in her husband's part of the shop when Emily and
-Rachel entered the "millinery section." Emily seated herself on a high
-stool and motioned Rachel to do the same. Joseph Stedenthal's voice
-came to them from a distance. He was thundering with wrath.
-
-"Shame upon you, talking mit the salesmen! Go you up-stairs, I tell
-you!"
-
-A young girl with flaming cheeks flashed by the door and ascended the
-stairs.
-
-"I ain't talking to him. I just asked him how much he sold it for,"
-she screamed back.
-
-"You were talking mit the salesmen! All times you talk mit them. And
-that I will not--I shall not have!"
-
-His tirade was interrupted by the teasing voice of a woman.
-
-"There, there, Joseph, give me one little kiss! You know how much you
-lofe me."
-
-There was an explosion of wrath and a woman, rolling in flesh, shaking
-with laughter, entered the millinery shop. She nodded to Emily, still
-smiling; but in spite of the merriment that convulsed her, she examined
-the hats attentively and counted the money very carefully into the
-other's hand. One of the hats she declined to pay for until the
-trimming was changed.
-
-"All times you make 'em too dark, Miss Short,--too dark, like a
-hearse," she remonstrated affably; "put a little more red on it."
-
-When Rachel, following Emily, once more gained the street, her tender
-face was clouded.
-
-Men, women, children; hats, socks, coats; candles, worn-out books;
-dirt, dirt, dirt! Men, men, men, bearded, unkempt, bedraggled,
-saddened, stupid, hungry! Under each coat, each gown was a living
-heart, struggling to keep its life. In every eye was a demand; in too
-few hands were the coppers to buy--not the pears, the grapes, the
-oranges that grow in Hester Street as in an orchard--but the great
-black loaves of bread, round, twisted, covered with a strange kind of
-seed. Coppers were lacking to buy milk for the starving, anemic baby,
-dirty-faced, struggling over the floor of the tenement; lacking for the
-shoes,--thirty pennies enough--for the shoes of little Johnnie that he
-might go to school: pennies lacking for the whiskey and the
-beer,--pennies that must be cheated for, thieved for, murdered
-for,--the all-necessary pennies for the drink.
-
-Separated from the life about her, Rachel was yet united to it, she was
-a part of it, and she drew her breath sharply. But should she be less
-brave than these others? Emily, who divined what was passing within
-her, came to a decision.
-
-"You've been a great help with the boxes, Miss Beckett," she said
-cheerfully when they reached the house and mounted the stairs; "now you
-come along in for a cup of tea."
-
-To the lonely girl the little toy-maker's room wore a grateful air of
-comfort. Emily placed her in a rocking-chair where she could see the
-windows of the church; then she bustled about preparing the tea. She
-had just handed a cup to Rachel when there came a rap on the door;
-before Emily could open it a pretty light-haired girl stood on the
-threshold. She was dressed in a starched waist and a plaid skirt and
-the eyes under her smart hat showed red rims.
-
-"It's all over," she cried, ignoring Rachel's presence. "I've got to
-leave my position, Miss Short. It's all along of Tom. The president
-called me into his office to-day and said right out, either I could
-stop letting his son come to see me, or I could leave. He gave me my
-choice. And you better believe I wasn't long choosing. I told him I'd
-see whom I pleased, and if Mr. Colby liked to come and call on me
-perfectly proper, like any other gentleman, I shouldn't stop him. So I
-got notice."
-
-The girl blazed with defiance, but, in spite of her bravado, she was
-once more on the brink of tears. Her bosom rose and sank tumultuously,
-her full red lips gathered into a pout, her little hands, dimpled like
-an infant's, rested on her hips. She was a child too soon imprisoned
-in the rich envelope of womanhood. On every lineament of her pretty,
-pathetic, excited face potential weakness was stamped.
-
-Emily scrutinized her for a moment in silence. Still without
-expressing an opinion, she replaced the kettle on the gas stove; then
-she looked at the new-comer gravely:
-
-"Miss Beckett, this is Miss Holden. Have you anything else to turn to,
-Betty?" she asked.
-
-The other shook her head. "I haven't, but I'm going to an agency
-to-morrow. I thought I'd just stop in and tell you. No, thanks, I
-won't wait for tea. Tom's coming this very evening," she added with an
-audacious smile.
-
-When she had gone, Emily poured Rachel another cup of tea; then taking
-a chair directly in front of her, she looked at her shrewdly:
-
-"Have you got any work?"
-
-Rachel raised an anxious face. She had been seeking work for many
-months.
-
-"Can you do anything special?" Emily demanded.
-
-Rachel was dubious. "Unless it was to trim hats," she ventured.
-
-But Emily shook her head. "There's no chance in that line," she said
-decidedly. "Did you ever paint any?"
-
-"No, but I could do it. I've seen it done--that is, little things,
-like roses and lighthouses."
-
-Emily gave the other's hand two or three approving taps. "To-morrow
-I'll bring you the materials from a place I know."
-
-The next day she appeared with a supply of silk and paints and
-patterns. Rachel's work was to paint garlands of roses on
-candle-shades, but as she lacked even a rudimentary knowledge of colour
-and drawing, for a time the work went ill. Even Emily, when she
-compared Rachel's copy with the pattern, was less optimistic.
-
-"It's a knack, though, they say," she encouraged her; "and one can
-learn to do most anything if one goes about it firmly enough."
-
-A week later, Emily, in a state of repressed excitement, summoned
-Rachel to her room to see a mechanical toy she had devised. Rowing his
-tiny boat over the waters of a tub was a wee figure dressed in sailor
-costume.
-
-In Emily's cheeks was a spot of crimson and in her eyes, which
-ordinarily resembled little dark berries, was a peculiar brightness.
-
-As she looked at Emily the colour even left Rachel's face with the
-strength of her longing. When she returned to the garlands, the roses
-blossomed under her fingers. "So much for work!" she thought, and
-there arose in her a new and virile sensation of pride and joy.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-SIMON HART TO THE RESCUE
-
-As the summer advanced she refused to accept the dealer's verdict that
-the demand for all sorts of hand-painted trifles languished in the
-summer; painting was her one means of support, and with magnificent
-courage, if with small practical sense, she continued to paint. But
-when she carried her work to the dealer, though he admired it, he
-refused to buy it, and she came home again and again as empty of pocket
-as when she had started out.
-
-She said nothing to Emily Short about her difficulties. Barring a
-glimpse which she caught of her now and then she seldom saw the little
-toy-maker, for during the hot weather Emily was unusually busy.
-
-Emily was a famous nurse, and during the season when sickness was
-rampant among the children of the slums, she put aside her toys and
-hats and fought bravely for the little lives. She scrubbed faces and
-cleaned floors and administered doses of medicine, and more than once
-Rachel had met her at the edge of evening, bringing home an infant in
-her arms. To see her depositing it where the breeze came in through
-the open window, cooing to it, directing its wandering attention to the
-sights and sounds of the church, was enough to bring tears to the eyes.
-Fate, so prone to interfere with the plans of nature, wins at best but
-a superficial victory when she attempts to extinguish the motherhood in
-certain women. Deny them offspring she may, but dam up the love in
-their hearts, she cannot. Fate makes spinsters, but God makes mothers.
-And what is a mother but a being that looks with tenderness on all that
-is weak, with delight on all that is young? To such a being, an infant
-is ever a bud of promise to which she longs to be the sun. In the most
-radiant and satisfying sense, Emily Short was a mother, and not a waif
-in the quarter but knew it. Those who could walk, flocked after her on
-their little bare feet, clinging to the folds of her dress with their
-grimy fingers; and those who were too small to walk, looked at her with
-fixed, unwinking eyes, apparently beholding nothing, while in reality
-still seeing the something beyond this nothing, their state being one
-of celestial preoccupation rather than one of dormant thought.
-
-Rachel, aware of the burden Emily carried, hesitated to add to its
-weight. If truth be told, as long as old David did not lack for
-food,--and so far he had not gone hungry--as long as the rent was paid
-for a week ahead, a subject more tyrannical than poverty engrossed her
-thoughts. In some women the love that has once stirred them, never
-becomes extinct; it is a flame that never completely dies, a fire of
-which some sparks always linger among the dead ashes. At a breath from
-that far-off source of all existence, a breath that quickens alike
-grain and fruit and human hearts, this spark leaps to renewed life in
-the sensitive, wounded and restless soul.
-
-With the disingenuousness of a woman in love, with the timidity of a
-little mouse, Rachel had established herself under the eaves of an
-obscure garret in lower New York. For a time, following the change,
-her heart had beat more tranquilly, for now the same sky covered her
-that covered that egoistic remarkable being who had once played so
-important a role in her life.
-
-But gradually the sombreness of a storm was created within her; though
-when she thought of the inventor she experienced little of the chagrin
-of a woman whom a lover has deserted. Rather, what she felt was a
-surprised resentment of soul. Emil St. Ives was ordained to understand
-her, and behold he had forsaken her! With eyes as clear as a child's,
-though shadowed by indefinable emotions, she often watched from the
-window the pigeons circling on pointed wings over the house-tops, and
-they seemed to her like a flurry of white letters tossed by a derisive
-hand through the sky.
-
-"Why had he never written her?"
-
-At the thought her melancholy was crossed by anger; but at other
-moments she remembered that it was she herself who had sent him away.
-Oh, if he had only looked at her with his mind as well as his eyes!
-But, enlivened continually by the astonished happy perception of the
-inventor's mastery of the expedients he employs in his tests, joyful
-with the joy of a creator, Emil had never really seen her. His love
-for his mother carried him backward into the past, his love for his
-work carried him forward into the future, until it actually seemed to
-her he had no present, no to-day.
-
-And she reflected that under one of those million roofs he was working
-on some foolish instrument for which the world, as yet, did not
-recognize its own need. The world, therefore, in all probability, was
-leaving him alone, to live if he could, to starve if he must.
-Meanwhile, the sound of his drilling, his hammering, above all, his
-loud-voiced singing, was doubtless causing a commotion among the stars
-where the important is recorded before it is heralded on this
-commonplace earth.
-
-Although she did not wish to remember the inventor, the thought of him
-constantly returned and gradually she began to extract a kind of
-pleasure from this involuntary analysis which she carried on for hours
-together. Then roused by some sound from the street, with the languor
-which results from power held in abeyance, she would resume work on the
-shades.
-
-One heavy morning toward the end of August, Rachel made the unpleasant
-discovery that there was scarcely money enough in the house to cover
-the needs of the day. To increase her dismay her grandfather, leaning
-his head on his hand, refused his breakfast. Even the newspaper with
-its sensational headlines failed to arouse him. She brought him a
-glass of water, but with a weak gesture he motioned her away.
-Thoroughly frightened, Rachel flung her arm about him and coaxed him to
-return to his bed. Old David grew first red, then white, but gradually
-the natural look returned to his face and he fell into a sound sleep.
-
-Instructing Nora Gage to keep a close watch over him, Rachel started
-for the shop where she had formerly disposed of her wares. She was
-intoxicated with her own resolution. Though it was the third time
-within a fortnight that she had made her appearance there, she spread
-the shades on the counter with confident movements; then she looked up.
-
-The clerk with his delicate salesmen's hand swept them toward her. "I
-have told you that we have no call for these things," he said and
-impatiently turned on his heel.
-
-For some moments she seemed not to comprehend these words; presently
-his voice, bland and seductive, reached her from another part of the
-shop. Then she gathered up the shades, returned them to her handbag,
-and walked slowly to the door. She made a movement to open it, but at
-that instant she heard a step behind her.
-
-When he lifted his hat, she recognized Simon Hart. He was looking at
-her attentively with his weary, enigmatic eyes.
-
-The salesman had followed him in a little rush.
-
-"Perhaps you'd better leave the shades after all, Miss Beckett," he
-began, "this gentleman--"
-
-"I will give the young lady the order," the other said. And he held
-the door open for Rachel.
-
-Once in the street, she looked at her companion in surprise. She
-thought she detected in his face covert satisfaction.
-
-"I beg your pardon, but you called to see my father several weeks
-ago--Miss Beckett? Thank you. The maid wasn't certain of the name.
-Well, Miss Beckett," he continued in an embarrassed voice, enunciating
-his words with distinctness, "it happens that I have just been
-requested by a relative to get her some candle shades," and in a few
-words he explained the commission, even producing from his pocket a
-sample of the silk from which the shades were to be made. It was
-essential that they should be finished in three days.
-
-"And when you deliver them to Miss Burgdorf," he said, scribbling an
-address on a card which he took from his pocket, "you might speak to
-her in a general way of your work, if you care to do so. For my part,"
-he concluded, "I'm very glad to know of someone who does this kind of
-thing."
-
-Before he left Rachel, he inquired where she and her grandfather were
-living and the odd look of gratification deepened on his face.
-
-"I needn't have told him, I suppose," she thought regretfully as she
-walked home; "he may come there."
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
-
-A pompous-looking butler escorted Rachel through a vestibule, and
-pointed her to a seat in the dining room. It was evident from his
-manner that she should have applied at the basement entrance.
-
-A group of workmen were busy setting up an immense table. They kept
-pushing the sections together and drawing them apart. The polished
-surfaces of the wood filled the room with reflected light. A maid who
-stood by looked appealingly at the butler.
-
-"It isn't the table that was ordered," she moaned. She glanced at a
-clock which seemed, with its fluted columns and Gothic spires, a
-sardonic spirit in that rich and disordered room. Its monotonous
-tick-tock, tick-lock, scattered confusion, bewilderment, madness.
-
-"Eleven!" she cried in tones of deepest tragedy, "and not a flower!"
-
-Other servants entered bearing silver and glass. A footman came in
-with a great palm, and bending, with shoulders on the strain, placed it
-directly in the path of a hurrying maid. Some one dropped a goblet;
-that showered into a million minute particles like shining tears.
-Every movable object was shifted countless times and remained,
-according to its nature, glittering, wavering, quivering for some
-instants thereafter. A bronze Narcissus exhibited his grace at an
-unusual angle. In such a time of rearrangement who has not observed
-how art objects gain in beauty?
-
-"Miss Burgdorf will see you now. Please step this way."
-
-Rachel followed the servant up the staircase. The woman lifted long
-strings of motley-hued beads strung in such a manner as to form a
-semi-transparent curtain, passed through a sitting room and tapped on a
-door. Julia Burgdorf was seated before her dressing-table in a robe of
-flowing silk. She was having her face manipulated by a slim masseuse
-in a long apron. The faces of the two women, as they rolled their eyes
-inquiringly toward the door, were exceedingly feminine. Woman is ever
-most natural when engaged in making herself artificial.
-
-Julia Burgdorf extended her hand with an imperious gesture. "Let me
-see the shades," she cried.
-
-She was a powerful, dark-skinned, handsome woman, with her mind in her
-eyes. Forty years of life had polished and embellished her until now
-she resembled a jewel of many facets. Her throat suggested a singing
-bird's, her shoulders were beautifully curved, her hands and arms
-perfect. She scarcely glanced at Rachel but examined the shades
-intently. Then once more she yielded her face to the masseuse.
-
-"Thank goodness, child!" she sighed, "they're lovely! and I'd just
-given you up. All these lights will be very hot, but they'll look like
-a forest of tropical blossoms; that's what I wanted. Here, give me
-that purse."
-
-She counted out thirty dollars in bills, and handed them to Rachel and
-then rang for the butler.
-
-"Has the sherbet come?--Bring this young lady some. Here, sit down,"
-she added, "you look tired."
-
-Rachel seated herself on a brocaded divan, still holding in her fingers
-a shade which had been slightly crushed and which she had repaired.
-She held the shade like a flower, and her face above it was severe and
-pale.
-
-"Heavens, child! someone ought to catch your pose just as you sit now.
-She doesn't need any of your cream, does she, Henley?"
-
-The masseuse looked at Rachel and her face quaked into an hundred
-little wrinkles. These played round her eyes like forked lightning,
-then instantly and miraculously disappeared, leaving the skin like an
-infant's.
-
-"It wouldn't do her any harm, Miss Burgdorf," she said, bridling. "Our
-cream is such a preservative. Sister and I think ladies can't begin
-too early."
-
-Her voice and manner suggested lotions; and this persistent artificial
-youthfulness, superadded to the tiny creature's evident acumen, was not
-without charm. In her long apron, tied behind with strings like a
-pinafore, she would have passed very well for a child had it not been
-for the lightning.
-
-Julia Burgdorf rose and stretched her arms above her head, then let
-them drop heavily while she stood for an instant in a listening
-attitude. Though no word was brought to her of the perturbed state of
-affairs below stairs, there was knowledge of it in the very air.
-
-"The butler has broken the last cup," she declared with conviction,
-"and the cook has gone off in a rage. I can see everything. Oh, what
-a fool I was to leave the cool country and bother with that club of
-cackling women at this season of the year! But charity before comfort.
-Leave your address, please. My cousin, Mr. Hart," she went on, with a
-droll screwing of the lips "wrote me about you. I may be able to get
-you more orders." And with these words she passed on to her bath.
-
-Now that the work which had engaged her for three days and a night was
-finished, Rachel felt disinclined to move. She lingered over the
-sherbet the butler had brought her and watched the masseuse putting
-away the little delicate instruments of coquetry. All at once it
-seemed to her that through the cool silence she heard the malicious
-ticking of the great clock in the dining-room, and she recognized the
-timepiece as a remorseless tyrant dominating not only the servants, but
-the beautiful mistress of the house. Though instinctively conscious of
-Julia Burgdorf's fear of age, Rachel was too young to experience any
-real sympathy for her. Instead, what she did feel was a keen sense of
-her own triumphant youth. A miniature of a young man stood on a
-dressing-table. "He looks like Emil," she thought; and, to quiet her
-agitation she fixed her attention on the masseuse, who, with a little
-silver pencil, was marking the date on an illuminated calendar. Rachel
-stared at this calendar, and the blood slowly left her cheek.
-
-Nothing so conclusively proves the existence of an intelligent, if
-somewhat perverse Fate, acting in the affairs of human beings, as these
-potent stirrings of the memory, which she causes by the simplest means.
-Does a woman require a bit of information? Incidentally Fate
-enlightens her at the most opportune moment. Rachel attempted to avert
-her eyes from the bit of cardboard, but the two names which were almost
-lost in the design of the border and which certainly would have escaped
-the casual glance of another, in a moment had evoked all the sweet and
-irritating scenes of her past:
-
-"_Benjamin Just & Richard Lawless, Art Lithographers, Lafayette
-Street._"
-
-Symbolizing all the events of her meagre romance, these names, with all
-the accompanying address of which she had hitherto been ignorant, had
-the effect of maturing in Rachel all that is most imperious in human
-love. How little is required to move a woman's heart. The longing to
-see Emil took possession of Rachel like a fever.
-
-The one o'clock whistle sounded a last melancholy note, and she
-inspected eagerly every figure that entered the factory. Why had she
-assumed that Emil was still employed there? As the stream of men grew
-less and presently ceased, the curve of her mouth became scornful.
-"How idiotic!" she whispered. She was turning away when a young girl
-emerged from a side door over which appeared the word "_Office_." She
-came out impetuously. The fact that she was weeping arrested Rachel's
-attention. Her slight frame shook with sobs. She took a few steps,
-then paused to extract a handkerchief from a bag she wore at her belt.
-She pulled out the handkerchief and a letter fell from the reticule,
-but in the excess of her grief she went on without perceiving her loss.
-
-Rachel crossed the street and as she picked up the letter, she
-involuntarily noticed its superscription. Written carelessly on the
-blue envelope was the name "Mrs. E. A. St. Ives." She
-faltered--staring at it. She stood still and something seemed to
-strike her in the breast. Yet she was conscious that surprise had no
-part in her feeling. After a few seconds, she forced herself to walk
-on. At the next corner she overtook the girl.
-
-"Is this yours?" she asked. And her voice sounded strange in her ears.
-
-The girl wheeled, showing a face disfigured with tears. "Oh, yes," she
-said, "it's mine! Did I drop it?"
-
-Rachel continued to look at her without stirring. She passed her hand
-once or twice across her forehead. "You are Mrs. Emil St. Ives?"
-
-"Why yes, I'm Mrs. St. Ives." The other was now gazing at her with
-curiosity.
-
-So this was the girl who had helped Emil in the past, who helped him
-now,--the girl he preferred to her. Disdainful, she swept round. As
-she moved, she lifted her shoulders as if she would rid herself of
-something, but the action spoke forlornness.
-
-"Why do you ask?" questioned the other, pursuing.
-
-Rachel paused. "Nothing made me ask," she said, "only the name was
-familiar."
-
-She was walking on when the girl caught her arm.
-
-"Perhaps you know my husband?" she persisted. "Do you?"
-
-Once more Rachel stood still. "Yes I know him--slightly."
-
-"I knew you did," and a note of incipient jealousy sounded in the
-other's voice. "When did you know him?" she asked, and she fixed sharp
-eyes on Rachel's face.
-
-"It was last summer in Maine," Rachel answered. "I took him out a few
-times in a boat to make some experiments. When I saw the name I
-recognized it." Her indifference, the sudden cold and remote
-expression of her eye, which was like a thrust of the arm, deceived her
-questioner.
-
-"Oh, I see," she said, meekly. "Was it the _depth indicator_! Oh I
-know it was," and at the mention of this instrument, she returned to
-her original grievance. "It's that _depth indicator_ that's been at
-the bottom of all our troubles," she explained; "if it hadn't been for
-that, Alexander would have finished the lithographing press and then
-everything would have come out different. But now Father--Oh, I can
-talk to you, can't I?" she interpolated. "I must talk to someone.
-I've been treated so--you don't know!" and she began to sob again in a
-helpless, childish fashion, with the unrestrained grief of a nature,
-hysterical, feverish.
-
-But one thought burned in Rachel: Emil's marriage. Her pain, however,
-was not new; she felt that she had lived through it before, for it is a
-characteristic of suffering that it never comes as a novel experience
-and herein it differs from joy. The disconnected explanations of her
-companion, mingled with the repeated request to be allowed to confide
-in her, gradually roused Rachel. Her eyes travelled over Annie. She
-noticed the once tasteful dress, which was now badly worn, the little
-pear-shaped face with its peaked nose and babyish eyes.
-
-She was about to reply haughtily, then, moved by Annie's beseeching
-look, altered her intention.
-
-"Yes, you can tell me if you want to," she answered softly and dully.
-
-Involuntarily the two girls turned their steps in the direction of a
-square, a triangular breathing place in this densely populated section.
-They seated themselves on one of the benches and Annie poured out her
-story. But her words scarcely penetrated Rachel's brain. She stared
-at some clothing drying on a fire-escape, and it struck her that the
-antics of the clothing fastened to a line were no more grotesque and
-absurd than the antics of human creatures fastened to life. Inwardly
-she rocked on the wide sea of misery.
-
-The dramatic features of her situation were not lost on Emil's wife.
-As she described her life in her parent's home, contrasting it with her
-present mode of existence, it was clear that Annie viewed herself in a
-romantic light. Never the less her misery was real, and more than once
-she had recourse to her small damp handkerchief.
-
-"When once we were married I felt sure Father would forgive us," she
-concluded, "but he says I shall never, never come home until I leave
-Alexander. Father's terrible when he's angry. All the same, this
-isn't the first time I've been to him," she explained. "At first he
-wouldn't see me, and when he did, he wouldn't listen to a word. He
-said Alexander was utterly irresponsible and the lithographing press
-and the rest of it had been as good as made over on an entirely
-different principle. But finally when I teased and teased he said if
-Alexander wanted to accept the position of expert examiner with the
-firm, they'd take him back at a salary. Not a very big salary, but
-still something regular. And I was so pleased," she added, "I felt
-there was a chance for him if he worked hard and didn't make trouble; I
-thought he'd soon rise to something better. But what do you think?
-Alexander refused! He roared like a madman when I told him. He said
-he wanted to do independent work, and never again would he sell his
-brain, his soul, his very life-blood to my father. And I went to the
-factory this afternoon to tell Father, and though I toned down
-Alexander's words and explained just how he felt as tactfully as I
-could, Father not only refused to make him another offer, but he threw
-open the door and pointed for me to go." And at the memory of the
-indignity, she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, whatever is going
-to become of us?" she wailed.
-
-Rachel said nothing, and this continued silence quieted the other.
-Presently with an air of finality she lifted her head.
-
-Opening her bag she returned the handkerchief to its depths.
-
-"But I promised to stand by Alexander and I'm going to," she said in a
-low voice. "Somehow, he makes you feel that you want to stand by him."
-
-Still Rachel said nothing.
-
-"I must go now," Annie cried, tipping her face back, "see, it's going
-to storm, and I'm so afraid of lightning."
-
-And indeed black, threatening clouds were coming up rapidly.
-
-"I'd ask you to come and see us," she added as they fled from the
-square, "only the place is so horrid. You see, Alexander not only
-works there, but we live there, too," she continued, while they stood
-waiting for a car with the wind whipping their dresses about them.
-"Alexander has a workshop, that's all he cares for, and I have a room
-about three feet square; and then he has a horrid deaf and dumb
-creature who helps him. Oh, if I'd known he was going to have _him_
-live with us!" and her voice broke. "You've been so good to let me go
-on in this way," she cried, as the car stopped. "I'll tell my husband
-I met you. What name shall I say?"
-
-But Rachel did not answer. She merely nodded as the other, in a
-tremour of fright, stepped on the car.
-
-"You'll get caught in the rain!" Annie called after her.
-
-Rachel smiled grimly.
-
-The rain descended at first thin and fine as if poured through a sieve;
-then it increased in volume till the gutters ran yellow torrents, till
-the sordid brick buildings looked like drenched, warty frogs of a giant
-growth, till the slender trees in the squares fairly bent to the
-ground. But Rachel was caught in the vortex of a storm even wilder.
-
-It was two hours later when she slowly climbed the steps of the
-tenement house. Emily Short's voice reached her from an upper landing:
-
-"There, don't you go looking him up again, will you, Betty? There
-ain't a man in the world worth running after."
-
-Rachel halted and a fierce denunciatory light flamed in her eyes. Then
-she pulled herself together.
-
-When she opened the door of the outer room Simon Hart rose to greet
-her. He felt that he had taken her by surprise and, in embarrassment,
-smoothed his hair.
-
-"It's going to clear," he said and glanced toward the window which let
-into the tiny room the slowly increasing light.
-
-Rachel swept a look in the same direction. "Yes," she repeated,
-"it's--clearing."
-
-In the sky, visible beyond the clutter of wet roofs, appeared a strange
-arrangement of gold bars, and above the bars huddled the thunder clouds
-like a herd of newly-tamed animals.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-SHOWING THAT SACRIFICES ARE NOT ALWAYS APPRECIATED
-
-To cast a glance backward,--it was with a mixture of surprise, chagrin
-and growing indignation, that Emil St. Ives took his way from the Maine
-coast to tumultuous, brain-inspiring New York. In the hotel at Old
-Harbour he lingered over his packing, confident until the last moment,
-that some word would arrive from Rachel. She surely would not allow
-him to go without seeking to effect a reconciliation. No word came
-and, once seated in the train, he stared out at the landscape with
-sullen fierceness. But there, in scraggy rocks, stumps of trees,
-water, meadows, salt marshes, wind with a tang in it, gold beams poured
-from rifted clouds, mist, storm, rolling fog--there was Rachel, the
-girl herself. She was dancing, scudding on ahead of the train, wrapped
-in a veil. Now he saw the gleam of her eyes; now her serious mouth!
-now the curve of a wrist; now a fleeing ankle! Remaining behind, she
-yet went with him! Deuce take it, he felt her breath on his face!
-
-He was conscious of an immense weight of sadness in his breast, but it
-lessened neither his pique nor his astonishment. Full of mastership,
-his ideas of womankind were based chiefly on the devotion accorded him
-by his mother, by Annie Lawless, and, until then, by Rachel herself.
-Such whole-souled devotion he accepted as his rightful due. Therefore
-Rachel's downright and uncompromising attitude astounded him. Her
-anger, when she learned that another young lady was interested in his
-affairs, was justified, he admitted. He had not been open with her.
-What he could not overlook, however, was her allusion to his mother's
-disappointment if his plans with the lithographers failed to
-materialize. If she had cared for him, she would have spared him that
-barbed thrust which even in memory caused his nerves to tingle. If she
-had cared for him she would have prevented his going. But she had
-allowed him to go without a hope of ever seeing him again.
-
-He began to laugh bitterly; presently lifting his long frame out of the
-car seat, he went for a drink of water. He stood with the cup in his
-hand, forgetting to drink. He could not endure that a woman should
-scorn and repudiate him. The quarrel with Rachel shook him all the
-more violently, as, with his habits of mind, he was unaccustomed to
-such tempests. He returned to his seat and fixed his eyes once more on
-the flying landscape.
-
-She had shone upon him like sunlight, and passion had awakened--passion
-and interest and something besides. She had stormed at him like a
-tempest and finally had mystified him with a fog, best proof of all
-that hers was the womanhood for his manhood. But did he understand?
-The pebble rolling down a hill has as much comprehension of the force
-that summons it--indeed it has more, for the pebble obeys the force and
-Emil St. Ives did not obey. Instead he set himself squarely about and
-took his way back to New York with a smouldering eye; but a fierce,
-surprised bird whose pinions had been clipped might have worn just such
-a look, and he kept ruffling the feathers of his vanity, for the wings
-of his egotism drooped.
-
-Presently he produced paper and pencil, but still boiling, it was
-sometime before he could control his thoughts. Finally, he began to
-sketch roughly a plan for an instrument; the next day his humiliation
-had so far abated as to permit of his working steadily on the scheme;
-and when he reached New York his complacency was practically restored.
-On alighting from the train he found awaiting him a little eager,
-flushing, paling being in the shape of a woman.
-
-When Emil saw Annie Lawless peering at him from the midst of the crowd
-on the platform, a certain new sensation, strong, sweet, but somehow
-malign, sprang to life within him. At least Annie was not indifferent
-to him. His chagrin disappeared and a desperate hardihood took its
-place. It is soothing, as most people will agree, when a golden apple
-has been denied us, to have offered for our acceptance a little rosy
-plum. Is it amazing then, that Emil stood ready hand and mouth for the
-plum, all the more as he reckoned its flavour, on the whole, rather
-pleasant? With his worn suit-case in one hand and his precious
-_depth-indicator_ in the other, he swung down the platform, and Annie,
-followed by the ungainly figure of Ding Dong, advanced to meet him.
-Then Emil set down the suit-case and the _depth-indicator_ and received
-Annie's timid anxious glance in his own dark orbs. In it plunged, that
-little maiden look, and the earth for Annie rocked, though for Emil it
-merely oscillated very slightly,--no more than when one has taken a sip
-of wine, piquant and a little heady.
-
-Ding Dong gathered up the traps and fell submissively behind the young
-couple, and Annie pressed against Emil and clung to him. What more
-natural than that, finding himself unencumbered, he should bend down
-and encircle her little figure with his arm? A rosy plum, a sip of
-wine, a little bit of a woman with no wits at all and her heart in her
-face, such was Annie.
-
-As for that puzzling mid-region between mind and heart, which was the
-region affected in Emil, one might as well attempt to mark out paths in
-a wilderness as to set up guideposts there. Every thought is tinged
-with feeling, every feeling is sullied with thought, and the ways are
-hopelessly mixed. But it is a region which stands in no need of
-description, for in the range of emotional experience, few people ken
-anything beyond this vast temperate zone. And yet they declare, at the
-last, that they have lived! Pathetic misapprehension! Nothing is more
-uncommon, more unspeakably rare, than a life actually lived. Only a
-person who is at once an intrepid explorer and an inexhaustible artist,
-appreciating ever the value of extremes and of contrasts, in short a
-genius on every side, is capable of life.
-
-Though Emil had a measure of this capacity, he was hopelessly adrift in
-a maze of stupidity; for men, save at exceptional moments, are such a
-very small part of themselves. So he encircled Annie with his arm and,
-bringing his face close to hers, kissed her. And Annie did not utter a
-reproach. She forgot the words that would have formed it. She forgot
-every word in her vocabulary, except one little word that all but
-escaped from the hot panting region of her heart.
-
-But she had formed a plan which she remembered. Dragging Emil into the
-waiting room, she indicated two chairs in a quiet corner. When they
-were seated, she put one little gloved hand for a moment over his and
-pressed it down hard in order to hold his attention, though this
-manoeuvre was not in the least necessary, for she was far from
-unpleasing to look upon. The colour kept chasing the white on her
-cheek, for she was frightened by what she had to say and at a loss how
-to say it; the sweet peas, pinned in a bunch on the breast of her
-jacket, threatened to fly away like a bevy of butterflies with her
-tumultuous breathing, and a fascinating little pulse fluttered in her
-neck just above the lace of her collar, and Emil, watching it, knew
-that it indicated the wild movements of her heart.
-
-What wonder that he almost recovered his wonted spirits in the air of
-adoration that breathed from these two humble people? For Ding Dong,
-with his ears like huge excrescences and his legs that seemed to bend
-under the weight of his squat body so that he resembled nothing so much
-as a grotesque from a cathedral niche,--Ding Dong hung on his look with
-exactly as much attention as Annie. Despite the feeling of sadness
-that lurked far down in the depths of his being, Emil perceived afresh
-that it was a very good sort of world and that New York was a
-marvellous city. And his egotism began to spread its wings and his
-eyes to flash good humouredly. Being now well beyond the larva stage,
-admiration was necessary to him,--it was an air without which he was
-unable to exist.
-
-"But how did you know that I would come on this train?" he asked
-gently; and, clasping his hands about his knees, he stared at Annie
-with a peculiar concentrated interest.
-
-She looked up at him with a faint suggestion of reproach. "I didn't
-know; though I was prepared to wait until you did come," she said.
-"The fact is, Alexander," she continued, "what Father has done is
-shameful. It isn't right, and as he's my father, it's only just--well,
-I hope you won't take it wrong--but I have a little money which was
-left me by an aunt to do with just as I choose. I've got it all here,
-see, in this bag," and she opened the drawstrings. "It isn't much,
-only a thousand dollars, but I thought perhaps--perhaps you would take
-it until you could invent something."
-
-To save his life Emil could not prevent the joy that flashed in his
-eyes. To be free to invent, even for a brief space! It was an
-unexpected glimpse straight into Paradise. He peeped in--just one
-peep; then greatly to his credit, considering how little of an ordinary
-man he was and how much of a genius,--who resembles a bird of heaven in
-his freedom from a sense of obligations,--he shut the door on the
-Paradise forcibly.
-
-He bent forward and took both of Annie's hands in his. Slowly, very
-slowly, he shook his head.
-
-"Oh, please!" she supplicated, and her face puckered. As she looked
-straight into his eyes with her own, he saw them suffuse with tears.
-The sight of these tears perturbed him so that he was no longer master
-of himself.
-
-"But see here, I can't!" he said, and the blood darkened his cheek, "I
-can't take money from you; you're mad!"
-
-"Oh, if that's the way you consider me--just like a stranger!" And
-Annie turned sharply aside and buried her face in a scrap of a
-handkerchief from which ascended an odour of subtle feminine appeal.
-
-In their excitement both had risen and Emil spread his massive bulk to
-screen her distress from the few people who were seated in the
-waiting-room. Never had he been driven into such a net by his own
-emotions.
-
-"See here," he cried, bending over her and breathing the words into her
-ear, "I consider you my only friend"; and his ardour was augmented by
-his remembrance of Rachel.
-
-This was devotion, this!
-
-"Friend?" she repeated, lifting her head and gazing at him through her
-tears. "I'm more than that. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for
-you, and I thought--I thought--"
-
-For an instant Emil saw her judicially. "So that's it?" he reflected,
-but the next instant the male in him was completely glamoured.
-
-For the last time some positive seduction in Annie overcame him. Love
-will polish even a plain woman to something approaching brilliancy, and
-Annie was by no means plain. Her hair gave out a delicate odour; the
-pupils of her eyes, usually small, spilled their black over the blue of
-the irises; her little mouth emitted a whole troop of sighs; the stuff
-of her waist crackled, as if, though it fitted her body, it compressed
-her heart. In truth, that which was the heart in her, the soul in her,
-was striving mightily to come to him, and being a man he did not refuse
-it.
-
-"Do--do you mean that you would marry me?" he hazarded unsteadily,
-"without prospects--nothing? You can see for yourself, everything I
-put my hand to turns out wrong," he added argumentatively.
-
-She nodded. A look of ecstasy overspread her face.
-
-What he experienced chiefly was a profound astonishment.
-
-He moved back a step in order to study her. That she felt in this way
-toward him was no news, but that she was ready to take the decisive
-step now, when his whole outlook was altered.... In his gaze there
-grew a peculiar gentleness and simplicity.
-
-"Yes, but what about your father, what will he say?" he inquired,
-dallying dreamily with the consideration.
-
-"Father, oh, he'll bluster at first, but he'll forgive us. I know him.
-Besides, hasn't he stolen your invention?"
-
-"So it's only fair I should steal his daughter; is that it?" This
-question, like the other, was an idle playing with the subject, as
-though, for the moment, his will went in leash to hers.
-
-Annie lifted her face with a laugh which stirred him strangely. Her
-eyes rested questioningly upon him and he was conscious of an ambiguous
-emotion of pleasure and confusion. He had a desire to say tender words
-to her, to touch her hair; none the less he sighed heavily.
-
-And Annie all at once took his attitude for granted. Timid, yet with
-that potency of appeal which belongs often to the weakest women, she
-clasped his hand, glancing up at him in such a way that he felt all
-resistance expiring within him.
-
-"That poor fellow over there," she went on happily after a moment,
-during which she pressed his fingers once or twice, "every time I'd go
-to the factory, he'd make the strangest signs, and at first I couldn't
-understand what he wanted. But after a little, I made out that he was
-asking about you. And when Father got in that new man to work on your
-machine, Ding Dong, as they call him, just went wild and raged. He
-tried to stand guard over the machine and he locked the door of your
-shop. But finally they got in and he acted so, they had to get rid of
-him."
-
-Emil, who had been admiring the vivacity of her face, caught only the
-last words of this speech.
-
-"Ding Dong you say! Yes, a fine fellow," he agreed with a sparkling
-smile.
-
-"Well, between us we've got everything planned," Annie continued.
-"We've found a little apartment--"
-
-He started.
-
-"Where you can work and invent," she added in a voice scarcely above a
-whisper.
-
-"Invent," he murmured, for she sidled and slunk closer to him so that
-with difficulty he resisted an impulse to seize her to his breast.
-
-Explain it who can: in one short hour all the judgments of this man
-were reversed. Though he was influenced by selfish motives, he did not
-recognize them. Annie was his friend, the one most necessary to him
-and to whom he was necessary. It was really downright amazing how much
-she cared for him, and seeing her through a mist of gratitude which he
-mistook for love, he compared her to the cold Rachel to the latter's
-disadvantage. In love consciously with neither the one nor the other
-of these two women and only obscurely aware that his feeling for Rachel
-was capable of assuming the character of a dominating passion, he was
-really concerned in but one object, his work. He therefore yielded
-himself readily to gratified vanity, egotism, enthralled senses, those
-potent agents for the smothering of the masculine will.
-
-They were on their way to the office of the Mayor when abruptly Emil
-ordered the driver of the cab to halt, while he questioned Annie
-anxiously. Did she think it wise--what they were doing? Had she
-sufficiently considered?
-
-For answer she put her hands on his shoulders and drew his head to her
-breast so vehemently that he had difficulty in breathing.
-
-After that he spoke no more until their destination was reached, but
-stared out intently at the people, who passed in carriages and on foot,
-with a smile in which there was an uneasy melancholy.
-
-
-A week later any scales he might have had over his eyes had vanished.
-Memories of Rachel obtruded themselves and he turned from them with
-stifled sighs. He was ill at ease and his conscience troubled him. He
-was penitent before Annie and redoubled his caresses. But she was not
-essential to him, and as time went on he buried himself in his work.
-
-In the choice of the apartment the young girl betrayed the fundamental
-practicality of her nature. The rooms were inexpensive and at the same
-time attractive and homelike; but at the end of a month, Emil
-discovered a sky-lighted loft in the lower part of the city into which
-he wished to move. The place would be a more convenient one for his
-work. Thither Ding Dong, in the capacity of assistant to the inventor,
-accompanied the pair. With him he brought the monkey Lulu.
-
-Largely because of his affection for her, though partly because of his
-hatred of his former employers on whom he thought absurdly to revenge
-himself, Ding Dong had stolen the little creature from the factory. He
-made her a cage, which she seldom occupied, her favourite station being
-the sill of the window where Emil had his work-bench. There she
-crouched among the tools with her little, worried, half-human face
-turned to the inventor, and now and then she reached out a black hand
-and laid it questioningly on his sleeve. Seeing his pet thus safely
-cared for, Ding Dong was free to spend himself in the service of his
-new master. He ran errands, bustled about in a flurry of often useless
-activity, and even fitted up the tiny room set apart for Annie. At
-first the young wife agreed to everything.
-
-Crushed by a stormy interview with her father in which he had forbidden
-her to cross his threshold, in the early days of her marriage Annie
-accepted the privations of her new mode of life without a word. She
-thought to endear herself to her husband. But Emil, far from
-sympathizing with her position, was honestly unconscious of it.
-Carried away by the interest of his work, he forgot her. When made
-aware of her, bitterness filled his soul. He felt himself guilty
-toward her. Never the less, her tears, her letters to her mother,
-which he was forced to read and approve, her constant efforts on his
-behalf with her father, above all, her insistence that he go back and
-accept the situation of expert examiner, which was finally grudgingly
-offered him,--all this irked him in the extreme.
-
-"Go back there--after the way he's treated me?" he cried,--"you ask it?"
-
-"I thought--I thought--" murmured Annie, "we are very miserable."
-
-"Well?" His significant tone seemed to imply, "Who's to blame?"
-
-He now perceived clearly that she hampered him, that he could have got
-on very much better without her.
-
-"You are not interested in my work," he cried, blaming her; "a woman is
-always like that. No detachment with them is possible. I ought to
-have understood this."
-
-Then Annie broke down, and contrition overcame him. He took her in his
-arms where she cuddled like a little kitten.
-
-"I'm no one for you," he whispered, while a fierce sigh rent him.
-
-But convinced that he suffered by the arrangement more than she did, he
-cherished a grudge against her because she interfered with him.
-Fearing to disquiet his mother, he allowed several months to pass
-before he wrote to her of his marriage. Viewing it coldly, he felt
-much cause for shame in the situation.
-
-Quarrels were constant, and as the sight of Annie disquieted him, he
-shut himself off from her more and more. He worked, slept and ate in
-his shop, and Annie inhabited her lonely little room, weeping and
-staring out over the house-tops in acute disgust. As Emil had said,
-devotion to an abstract ideal was impossible to her and she was jealous
-now of his work as of a rival, so that they had no topic about which
-they could talk when together. Everything furnished a subject for
-dispute, even Ding Dong and his pet. Ding Dong disgusted her by his
-outlandish appearance, and the monkey, she declared, made her nervous.
-
-The day following her meeting with Rachel, Annie spoke of the encounter.
-
-"I met someone you know yesterday," she said; "a girl from Maine."
-
-Wrinkling up his brow, Emil paused in his work.
-
-Something in his expression excited and angered his wife.
-
-"Well," she cried sharply, "do you remember her? What's her name?"
-
-But Emil, despite his desire to know more, resumed his work without
-answering, and the eyes he cast down held the look of a child that
-dimly perceives in its suffering the result of its own act.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-DESPAIR AND DESOLATION
-
-As she stood in the attic room with its sloping roof and dormer
-windows, her little dark head almost touched the ceiling. Old David
-surveyed her with pride; then cast a glance at Simon Hart. The driving
-rain had modelled the stuff of her dress to her arms and shoulders in
-winding folds. As she lifted her hands to remove her hat, from which
-drooped the straight lines of a veil, she resembled a Tanagra figurine.
-But there was no antique serenity in her expression.
-
-Convinced that she was disconcerted by his presence, Simon Hart began
-to explain that he had brought her another order for candle shades.
-Then, as her lack of sophistication grew upon him, he ended by inviting
-her and her grandfather to dine with him.
-
-But Rachel looked at him with vague, unseeing eyes, until David nudged
-her elbow.
-
-"We'll like to go very much, won't we, Rachel?" he said in a voice
-which quavered with delight.
-
-Then she understood and forced a smile to her lips.
-
-"But don't ye forgit to say something to Miss Short, will ye?" the old
-man reminded her. "You see," he added, turning to the visitor, "Miss
-Short expected to go somewhere with us to-night for a little
-celebration, because of that order--the first one you got, Rachel--and
-it's most kind of you, too, to take such an interest."
-
-The other waved these last words aside. "Now about this celebration,"
-he said, "what do you say to asking Miss Short to go with us?"
-
-Again Rachel forced herself to express pleasure.
-
-When Simon Hart went out to call a carriage, she entered the inner room.
-
-After ridding herself of her wet dress, she sat down before the cracked
-looking-glass and began arranging her hair. But almost immediately she
-folded her arms on the bureau, bowed her head upon them and fell to
-weeping. In the depths of her soul she felt that nothing could alter
-her despair. Henceforth the knowledge of Emil's marriage would lodge
-there like a rock heaved into the midst of a stream, and the current of
-her life would eddy around it. The approach of Nora Gage caused her to
-lift her face and continue coiling her hair.
-
-Simon Hart was not a worldly man. He confined himself closely to the
-supervision of his business--the manufacture and sale of jewellery. At
-night he returned to his austere house in Washington Square. Of a
-painfully reticent disposition, he made few friends, his fastidious and
-slightly ironical manner effectually cutting him off from companionship.
-
-The only beings who played any sustained part in his life were the
-gaunt mysterious female who served his meals and arranged his
-drawing-room as she chose, his old father who moved optical instruments
-over the floor of the attic; and, at the shop, Victor Mudge, who
-designed special settings for gems. For Victor Mudge, Simon
-entertained a particular regard, though he felt sensitively that the
-goldsmith disapproved of him. The truth was, these two friendless
-men,--the one living in his well-nigh empty house, the other in his
-hall bedroom,--criticized each the other's lonely condition.
-
-The diversion created in the jeweller's life by the persons just named
-was no more than the gnawing of a bevy of mice in an otherwise quiet
-cellar. Painfully aware of this, he attempted to enrich his existence
-by extending the scope of his intellectual pursuits. He took up the
-study of social economics and pursued it diligently. In the same way,
-during the season, he forced himself to attend the opera with
-conscientious regularity, although he had no real musical taste and
-much that he saw and heard was in reality distasteful to him. He felt
-a constant need to check in himself a tendency to indulge feelings that
-were deeper than those apparently experienced by other men.
-
-Only once had a person penetrated his reserve. Several years before he
-had made the acquaintance of a scholarly lady who brought to his shop
-for suitable setting an Egyptian scarab. In the course of filling this
-simple order Simon had called upon her several times. Subsequent
-developments, however, had revealed the fact that the scholarly lady
-had a husband, and the acquaintance had languished; though for some
-time after the incident he had kept her photograph on his pianola where
-he had been in the habit of studying it while he had pedalled evenly.
-This photograph had fallen behind a stationary bookcase, and at present
-the one brightness in his life was the gleam of the gold and the jewels
-in his shop.
-
-Now he stood helpless at the corner of the street. Trusting to her
-unique charm to atone for any discrepancy in her dress, he would have
-risked Rachel's appearance in one of the more fashionable restaurants.
-But the others? He shook his head.
-
-More keenly sensitive to observation than a man of wider social
-experience, he shrank from the attention the group would be likely to
-attract. Presently he came to a decision. He would take his guests to
-a restaurant in the vicinity of his house, where he made a practice of
-dining when the weather was particularly oppressive.
-
-As they quitted the tenement rooms, Nora Gage padded softly out on the
-landing in her heelless slippers. Her enormous bust undulated more
-than usual and her hands at her waist disappeared beneath overhanging
-folds of fat. "Well, I hope you'll have something good to eat," she
-remarked meaningly. Rachel, her head high, ignored these words; but
-old David nodded with smiles and gestures toward his pocket.
-
-Like a child he expressed his delight openly. His white locks moved in
-the air, fine as cobwebs, and his face was wreathed in continual smiles
-which prolonged the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and deepened
-the lines about his mouth to quivering crescents of laughter defining
-the rosy hillocks of his cheeks. With a shaking finger he pointed out
-the sights in the streets to Emily, who nodded decorously the plumes of
-her elaborately-trimmed hat. The hat was destined for one of Mrs.
-Stedenthal's customers, but Emily had borrowed it for the evening. The
-very novelty of the situation diverted Rachel; she became aware of a
-dual consciousness--a self that suffered and a self that was vaguely
-amused.
-
-In the restaurant the waiter uncorked a bottle of champagne and Simon
-begged the young girl to taste it. She lifted it to her lips, then
-played with the glass.
-
-Simon watched the slim thumb and finger that encircled the fragile stem
-of crystal. With unostentatious movements he repeatedly filled his own
-glass. Occasionally he ventured to lift a glance to Rachel's face.
-
-She wore a skirt of dark silk, and a little flowered scarf over a waist
-of sheer muslin. The brim of her drooping hat, whenever she leaned
-forward, cast its shadow over her shoulders and her scarcely-indicated
-breast. When she straightened up, however, it was as if a cloud lifted
-and revealed the glow of her cheeks, the line of her lips, the depths
-of her eyes where some gloomy thought constantly hovered; for, strive
-as she would, summoning to her aid all her furious pride, she could not
-conceal the misery and despair that were consuming her heart. From her
-round wrists her sleeves fell back in ample folds and the pale yellow
-of her scarf repeated the colour of the champagne.
-
-As the dinner progressed Simon refrained more and more from looking at
-her. He did not ask himself what was troubling this young girl, he did
-not wish to know; perhaps he shrank from anything so absolutely
-youthful as her despair. On the other hand, the costume she wore, in
-that it was probably of her own fashioning, filled him with a kind of
-tenderness. Many trifling peculiarities of people, scarcely noticeable
-movements, awakened in him this feeling. It was a kind of pitifulness
-in his nature, though he had rarely been moved to the same degree by so
-slight a detail.
-
-Life takes on to most men, who by middle age have attained any measure
-of success, the character of a long meal of many courses. But to Simon
-Hart it seemed like the meal which the traveller takes in a gloomy way
-station. Now Rachel appealed to him like the unexpected nuts of a
-dessert, the unlooked for "riddle in ribbons," for he was keen enough
-to suspect the riddle hidden in this little smooth-skinned girl.
-
-The thoughts engendered in Emily Short, as she quietly observed the
-pair, were as foreign to her mind as the food was to her palate. In
-the pauses between the courses she wove a shining romance about Rachel
-and her companion and finally installed them in a castle similar in
-architecture to that which decorated the china of the service. Old
-David, remembering Nora, occupied the moments while the waiter's back
-was turned, in secreting various tidbits in the pocket of his coat. So
-slyly did he do this that no one observed his manoeuvres, and he tucked
-away crackers, olives and finally a portion of ice-cream which was
-served in a little box.
-
-Meanwhile the waiters, bearing steaming viands, hurried to and fro.
-They lifted silver dish covers, which reflected the light, and revealed
-the red claws of lobsters surrounded by green garnishings, and fowls
-steaming in gravy. Leaning between the shoulders of the diners, they
-poured out water and wine; and every moment, as they skilfully avoided
-trampling the dresses of the ladies, which flowed in rippling folds
-around their chairs, or cleared with heavy platters balanced on their
-hands the black shoulders of the men,--they cried, "Your pardon,
-madam!--In just a moment, sir!" and nothing could equal their dexterity
-or the softness of their cat-like tread. Through the restaurant
-swelled the penetrating, complicated music of the orchestra. At one
-moment a shower of gay notes seemed to be falling, falling everywhere,
-and the people broke in upon it with the loud clapping of hands. At
-another moment waves of melody, unnoticed, mounted insidiously like a
-tide and finally bore with them, like spume and tangled seaweed,
-something of the emotion from each overcharged heart.
-
-Turning her head aside, Rachel felt on her cheek the cool freshness of
-the night which entered over some plants in a window-box. For moments
-together as she listened, it seemed to her that her misery was
-expressed poignantly by the music. Then as the _motif_ altered,
-insensibly her mood changed. She thought of André from whom she had
-received a letter the week before. Captain Daniels, whose animosity
-toward the lad increased with the years, in a fit of drunken temper had
-broken André's fiddle. She resolved, as soon as she could, to send him
-another. Then Zarah Patch sent word that Buttercup, the cow he had
-purchased from David, mistaking the moaning of the fog bell for the
-crying of her calf, had floundered into the bay and been drowned.
-"Poor Buttercup!" she thought; then--"Poor André!" And, across the
-miles of space that separated them, she seemed to hear again the
-breathless words in which the boy had told her of his love.
-
-The orchestra was now executing a fantasy composed entirely of runs
-with the repetition of one bass note, and suddenly, without warning,
-her agony was once more upon her. Once more, distraught, breathless,
-she held that horrible envelope in her hand;--she read its
-superscription. The men in the orchestra, puffing at their horns,
-fingering their flutes, drawing their fiddle bows, were executing that
-final wild movement, not on their instruments, but on her heart.
-
-She looked up and encountered Simon Hart's eyes. Instantly averting
-his gaze, he proposed that they leave the restaurant; when they were
-outside, he suggested that they walk through the square which perfumed
-the air with the odour of its great trees. But no sooner had they
-entered the square, than old David evinced a distaste for locomotion.
-
-"I don't feel jest like myself somehow," he confided in a whisper to
-Emily Short. "Let's jest sit down here a minute." And the little
-toy-maker, who had her own reasons for wishing to leave the couple to
-themselves, readily complied.
-
-Simon and Rachel walked on. At last, they also seated themselves on
-one of the benches. It was after ten o'clock and the square was
-deserted. The moon, in its first quarter, caused Washington arch to
-throw a black shadow athwart the path; and now and again the swaying
-branches of the trees brought out traceries of leaves on Rachel's white
-shoulders and on her sleeves. With his arms folded across his knees so
-that his head was on a level with hers, Simon began telling her about a
-recently published history of jewels that partly covered the field of a
-work he had long been engaged upon. As he spoke she noticed that since
-dinner his eyes had lost something of then weary look and that his
-nervousness had abated. He spoke with the masculine deliberation which
-women ordinarily find so irritating, but which, owing to the state of
-her nerves, calmed Rachel.
-
-"However, my book," he explained, "deals almost exclusively with the
-legends connected with jewels. My aim is first and foremost, to
-restore to them their lost poetical significance. Plato, for instance,
-and the Egyptians, for that matter, believed that they were veritable
-beings produced by a sort of fermentation which was the result of a
-vivifying spirit descending from the stars. Look up there," he
-exclaimed, pointing to the sky, "then look at this, and tell me if it
-doesn't resemble star-gold condensed into a transparent mass;" and from
-his finger he drew a ring and placed it in her palm.
-
-She was more and more comforted. As he enlarged on the theme, which
-was evidently a favourite one with him, she watched the gyrations of
-the fountain. Outlined to her vision, she beheld a life which seemed
-to her infinitely more tranquil than her own.
-
-On their return to the Street of Masts, Emily assisted old David up the
-stairs and Rachel remained in the doorway waiting for Simon Hart to
-finish an interminable sentence. Weighty, carefully worded, laborious,
-his peroration, for the most part, fell on deaf ears. Never the less
-she was conscious of an involuntary attraction to him. When at last he
-extended his hand, she felt that he was stirred by some emotion he
-wished to conceal.
-
-"Now that we have celebrated our newly-formed friendship," he said with
-an attempt at gallantry, "I shall expect you to call upon me should any
-matter come up in which I can serve you. Will you promise?"
-
-The kindness was unexpected, her state forlorn. Her lips worked
-sensitively. "Yes," she said.
-
-He lifted her hand to his lips; at once something penetrating and
-tender enveloped them.
-
-At that moment the voice of Emily Short reached them from the upper
-landing. "Miss Beckett--Rachel!" she called, "come--come right up
-here! Your grandfather--something's wrong!"
-
-In the room under the roof the flaring gas showed old David half
-sitting, half lying upon the couch.
-
-Rachel darted to him. "Grandfather--what is it?" she shrieked; and
-winding her arms about him, she tried to centre his wild and wandering
-glances on herself.
-
-But moaning incessantly, incoherently, he pushed her away with one hand
-while clutching her tightly with the other. Constantly his eyes
-questioned her--only to reject all help that she or any other could
-give him.
-
-To her tortured sense it seemed an eternity before those half-human
-cries of his were silenced. In reality scarcely ten minutes elapsed
-before Simon Hart returned with a doctor.
-
-Without hesitation the physician pronounced old David's attack a
-paralytic shock affecting both the lower limbs, though the disease, he
-said, might shift at anytime.
-
-When they removed the old man's clothing, from the pocket of his coat
-rolled a few nuts and a little box of half-melted ice-cream.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-STOP--LOOK--LISTEN
-
-Old David was going to die. The sunshine knew it and danced over him
-caressingly, touching his hands, his face, his hair each day, as if for
-the last time. It spilled pretty pools of gold on the floor and
-painted the walls with golden patches. And the plants at the window
-ledge knew it, two primroses and a pot of yellow jonquils, and for that
-reason they bloomed constantly, perfuming the air with a delicate
-freshness.
-
-Old David was going to die, but because those who watched him practised
-an art of cheerful concealment, it was a very happy time for him, quite
-the happiest time he had known since boyhood.
-
-Propped up in bed, he watched all that went on about him, and he looked
-at the flowers in the window. He knew who had sent the flowers and,
-when he appeared, Simon Hart had to bear the scrutiny of a pair of old
-eyes that surveyed him unwaveringly from the pillow. When Rachel
-brought the visitor around to the bedside, a look of sly satisfaction
-radiated from the old man's features. Interest and an eager zest for
-life still flourished in him; though Death held him hand and foot he
-was too true a poet to heed the approach of so material a guest. The
-last days of his life were enveloped in ineffable peace. Wrapped about
-in comforts, he had no knowledge of the tragedy of Rachel's existence,
-but rested in the serene belief that Heaven itself provided him with
-doctors, medicines, luxuries. His poor darkened brain worked with
-incredible slowness, and it was touching to behold him enjoying a
-dainty meal that Rachel had contrived to provide for him. Smiling and
-fresh, with a napkin tucked under his chin, he would point out such
-food on the tray as appealed to his fancy; then she would lift it to
-his lips, feeding him as one feeds a bird. And often the poor child's
-face was far paler than his and her hands trembled with hunger.
-
-Only her absorbing, desperate love for him sustained her. For this
-grandfather, who in the enthusiasm of his heart was so like a little
-child, Rachel willingly would have laid down her life. No sacrifice
-was beyond her; and as the old man's soul was enveloped in that
-atmosphere of rare and delicate perceptions that heralds the final
-liberation, her soul, through its love, was permitted entrance into the
-same region of mysterious joys; so that up to the last moment they bore
-each other company.
-
-Sometimes, troubled by the thickness of his speech, old David looked at
-his young companion with piteous eyes; but the condition was the result
-of weakness, she assured him; later the words would come. To amuse him
-she searched the papers for humorous anecdotes and even invented funny
-little stories of her own. Then how they laughed together! The room
-reëchoed with such merry peals it seemed Death took the hint and kept
-at a distance. Indeed, the old man entering that world of which we
-know nothing, and the young girl surrounded by the evils of this, by
-their very innocence and helplessness held at bay all the menacing
-powers of darkness, and under that attic roof, in the midst of a sordid
-city, they lived a life more profound and universal than its thousands
-of passionate men and women thronging the streets below.
-
-When Simon Hart called, as he did every evening, it seemed to him that
-all the needs of the sick man were met. He sent flowers and fruit for
-old David, but a sense of delicacy kept him from offering Rachel
-financial assistance. Though he had disliked particularly asking a
-favour of his cousin, Julia Burgdorf, through her influence he was able
-to obtain for the young girl piece-work in an establishment that made a
-specialty of hand-painted trifles. This appealed to him as the most
-considerate way of helping her. Little did he realize that nursing
-left Rachel scant opportunity for the painting which required
-concentration. But by forcing herself to do without rest and almost
-without food, by employing every spare moment in doing all sorts of
-simple, ill-paid work that could be carried on at home, such as the
-directing of circulars and envelopes, mending and sewing for the
-neighbours, the impossible thing was accomplished. In quarters,
-half-dollars, dollars, the necessary money was swept together to cover
-the needs of the sick man. It was one of those prodigious, superhuman
-struggles constantly attempted by love. But of this struggle, though
-he came daily to the apartment, Simon Hart realized little. With the
-instinctive dread that characterizes persons of supersensitive nature,
-he had trained himself not to see to the bottom of things, not to
-investigate hearts too deeply. While watching Rachel with melancholy,
-ambiguous eyes, he was practically blind to the difficulty of her
-situation.
-
-His sense of loneliness, always painful, was aggravated now, and in her
-presence he was tormented by an inexpressible need of intimate
-companionship. He could not bear to have her leave the room; he was
-jealous of the doctor and Emily Short, since they took something of her
-from him. And how little he received!--a word when he came and when he
-left and now and then a smile. When Rachel cast on him a smile from
-swiftly-parted tremulous lips, a smile that vanished ere it had scarce
-taken form, Simon's restlessness increased and his desire for affection
-became a feverish demand. Fortunate for her that it was himself rather
-than another who saw her placed as she was. And reflecting that many a
-man of the ravening-wolf type, in his place would have sought to take
-advantage of her poverty, of her unprotected state, he grew hot with
-anger. But she stood small chance of meeting such a one, and after all
-Emily Short was a defence. Then the idea of marrying the girl
-presented itself, looming mirage-like on the horizon of his mind, and
-he felt that he was becoming ridiculous. He saw himself with the eyes
-of that world in which Julia Burgdorf and his business associates were
-the chief figures. The victim of a little unknown waif--not merely her
-victim, her slave. In order to break the spell he forbade himself to
-go to see her, and, that he might keep to the resolution, he started
-without warning on a trip to Bermuda.
-
-At first Nora Gage, influenced by shrewd calculations, acted in an
-unexpected fashion. During the fortnight that old David lay between
-life and death, Nora each day doled out a little money to Rachel. But
-later, as the invalid began to improve, she stole into his room a
-hundred times a day and noted the gathering life in his face with eyes
-as watchful as a snake's. Sometimes she even extended a hand and
-tested his pulse. Devotion to comfort was the ruling motive of Nora's
-life, and, foreseeing a future wherein comfort was threatened, fear
-seized upon her very vitals; and an agitation spread outward through
-the whole bulk of her flesh. Nor was her situation undeserving of
-sympathy. In vain Emily Short promised to reimburse her for all
-expenditures on old David's account when the fall trade in hats should
-open; Nora was sceptical of the security, as she was sceptical,
-finally, of Simon Hart's intentions.
-
-"He don't mean a thing, I'm sure of it," she muttered. "The idea of
-thinking he'd marry her! I've been a fool." And Nora sighed heavily
-as the alluring vision of the permanent home she had intended to demand
-in Simon Hart's house, in return for the assistance she had rendered
-old David, vanished in thin air.
-
-Her generosity came abruptly to an end. The doctor might order new
-medicines and old David, with the innocent egotism of the sick, demand
-the comforts to which he had become accustomed, Nora was unmoved.
-Gloating, she waited for Rachel to make an appeal. But the other,
-aware of the nature with which she had to deal, was silent.
-
-"Proud--proud to the end! Well, let her starve," Nora soliloquized,
-and took herself to the public parks,--anywhere to escape the
-atmosphere of gloom and terror that for her pervaded the apartment.
-
-Simon Hart's continued absence awoke in Rachel a troubled amazement,
-the more, as her grandfather constantly asked for him and she had to
-invent excuses for his non-appearance; but she had little time for
-reflection as the household in the Street of Masts was now put to sad
-shifts. Poor folk are ever separated from want by the meagrest of
-protections. They are like soldiers cowering behind a crumbling
-embankment. Time, bringing the ever recurrent needs, is their
-indefatigable enemy, and when these needs are multiplied, as in
-sickness, with small chance for patching the wall, they can ill
-withstand the siege. Finally there came an evening when Emily Short,
-with a look of shame on her open countenance, repaired to a certain
-shop around the corner, and thereafter no day passed when old David
-lacked for any comfort, as no day passed when some article was not
-missing from the bare little rooms.
-
-"Let me go just this once," Rachel besought one evening early in
-February, confronting the toy-maker, who was preparing to go out. "If
-you wait to go around there--you know where I mean--you'll be late at
-Madame Stedenthal's. You know she said eight o'clock; and you wouldn't
-want to miss getting that order."
-
-"But I don't like to have you," Emily protested.
-
-Rachel motioned toward the room: "Run along. Grandfather's asleep;
-I'll slip out and be back before he 'wakes." ...
-
-She quitted the shop, pressing a hand to her burning cheeks. Then,
-thrilled by the consciousness of the silver in her pocket, she hurried
-forward. She had gone only a few steps when someone touched her arm.
-She turned and saw Simon Hart.
-
-Manifestly he had been following her: on his face was stamped a look of
-commiseration and embarrassment.
-
-At once her old imperious pride was alive. Shrinking fiercely from the
-observation and sympathy of this man, she spoke curtly:
-
-"I'm very glad to have met you. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll say
-good-night; Grandfather is alone."
-
-She swung round so that he could no longer see her deeply wounded face;
-he saw only her hat and part of her veil and her long shabby cloak.
-
-"Miss Beckett--Rachel!" he exclaimed, in a note of despairing appeal.
-"May I not go up to see your grandfather? I have been away--I have
-just returned. I did not wait; I was so anxious," he concluded. And
-he looked anxious.
-
-She paused. After all, her grandfather would be pleased to see him.
-Already her short-lived resentment that he had witnessed her
-humiliation was merged in bodily languor.
-
-They mounted the stairs and as he saw how she clung to the railing with
-her hand, Simon Hart was seized afresh with surprise and horror. The
-pencilings of fatigue under her eyes accentuated her pallor and this
-morbid diminution in her beauty, lent her a poignant charm. She laid a
-hand on the door.
-
-Amazed at the change in the dismantled room, which was no less than the
-change in her, he stood rooted to the threshold. Then he dropped his
-head in his hands.
-
-Rachel, who suffered a faint return of embarrassment, refrained from
-looking at him.
-
-"There," she said nervously, laying aside her wraps, "now I'll go and
-see if Grandfather's awake."
-
-He was beside her: "Rachel, why--why didn't you let me know?"
-
-"Let you know what?" and she stood back against the wall, striving to
-repell him with her eyes.
-
-"That you were in want--in need. You could have written--" he
-floundered helplessly; then swept on almost in tears--"Didn't you know
-that I would help you gladly--thankfully? Oh where were my eyes! And
-you have been struggling!--Oh God, forgive me." He drew her bended
-wrist against his breast, and the shudders of his frame went to hers.
-
-She tried to withdraw the hand. "I don't understand."
-
-"So thin--" he continued, perusing her face, "so thin; almost starved.
-And no one to help you--not anyone. And I left you; I didn't even
-write--"
-
-He did not finish the sentence. He was on his knees, kissing the hem
-of her dress.
-
-She stared at him in a trance of amazement and at that moment a voice
-sounded from the room across the passage.
-
-"Rachel, be that ye? Why don't ye come in here?"
-
-Simon Hart rose to his feet. "Let me help you, Rachel."
-
-She moved her lips, though no sound passed them. He threw his hands on
-her shoulders and his eyes into the depths of hers. "I ask nothing
-that you cannot give," he said with mournful softness. "I know that
-you do not--love me--but later, if you became my wife--"
-
-She shook her head, trying to twist free.
-
-"If you were my future wife," he amended, "I could give your
-grandfather every care."
-
-He had struck the right note.
-
-Perceiving it, desperately he followed up his advantage. Later he
-would feel shame, but not now with her frightened breath on his face
-and her lips so close. His gentleness was transformed into boldness.
-Love wrought madness in him who had never before known its mystery or
-its power.--"He should lack for nothing."
-
-At that moment her grandfather's voice, high-pitched, querulous,
-sounded from the other room.
-
-"I hear ye, Rachel--both of ye; why don't ye come in here?"
-
-Slowly her frozen look gave place to one of tense questioning. "He
-shall lack for nothing? you promise it?"
-
-Simon Hart bowed his head: "I promise."
-
-"Very well, then;" and all the life and youth dropped from her voice.
-
-"Shall I go in to him?" he asked, stunned by his victory.
-
-She nodded.
-
-He moved to the door. Then retracing his steps, he passed his arms
-about her and pressed her to him. "You shall never regret this,
-Rachel. Oh, how I love you!" he muttered, with his lips on her head.
-
-Pushing the hair back from her temples as if its weight annoyed her, in
-the silent room she paced restlessly. Presently she paused and looked
-her problem in the face. She was alone, powerless, penniless. But for
-herself she was not afraid!--and she folded her arms on her
-breast,--but for him who was dying?
-
-Her arms fell.
-
-The doctor had said that he might linger months, even years. And oh
-the relief, the unspeakable happiness, of being able to give him every
-luxury! She smiled; then sickened. The very blood in her veins
-repudiated the sacrifice. It was long since she had thought of Emil
-St. Ives as she had been accustomed to think of him during the blissful
-time at Pemoquod Point. Now the memory of him suddenly beat all over
-her weakened frame. She belonged to her love as the wood belongs to
-the flame. Wringing her hands together, she cast herself on the couch.
-And over and over her in a flood waves of pain, of joy, of despair, of
-triumph, of agony, of gladness, of self-immolation, of selfishness
-rolled and rolled.
-
-Out of her ordeal she emerged, brought to a sense of the immediate
-present by hearing her name called. She stood up. But even through
-her misery she was conscious of the amazing strength of her
-grandfather's voice.
-
-She ran to him.
-
-A magnetic current of happiness had penetrated his paralyzed frame, for
-when she leaned over him, he addressed her with a tongue no longer
-trammelled.
-
-"I told ye he'd come back," he exulted. "I heared ye when ye both come
-in and I knew it was him. Now ain't ye got anything to tell me,
-Rachel?" And he smiled up at her slyly.
-
-"I don't know what you mean, Grandfather," she said.
-
-"I mean--What have ye two been talkin' about in t'other room?" he broke
-off. "I know it was about somethin' important; and he don't deny it,"
-with a gesture toward Simon.
-
-Simon Hart stood with one hand resting on the table. Rachel avoided
-his glance.
-
-"He said perhaps you'd tell me," urged the old man. "Now, what is it?"
-
-She was silent.
-
-"What is it?" he repeated. "Did he ask you to marry him?" and he
-plucked at her hand.
-
-"Yes, he did."
-
-"I knew it--I knew it," he cried excitedly. "And you said you would,
-didn't you, Rachel?" he asked, peering at her anxiously. "Somehow I
-should like to feel as if it was settled," he added wistfully.
-
-Then she understood. In spite of his cheerfulness, old David knew
-quite well that he was going to die; and so great was his love for her,
-it had triumphed over the barriers imposed by his disease. With his
-poor clouded faculties he was trying to make provision for her.
-
-Unable to stand, she rested her forehead on the pillow. He touched her
-hair and suddenly her heart expanded. All her thought was for him now.
-The danger that had threatened him was averted. They could not take
-him away from her, they could not carry him away and place him in a
-spotless, terrible ward, on a little bed, to die among strangers.
-Instead, she would be able to care for him until the end came. It was
-enough. What more could she ask? And tightening her grip on his
-sleeve, she wept the tears which the constant, torturing thought of
-weeks, the unwearying, ceaseless attempts to earn money, had not wrung
-from her. In an ecstasy of tenderness, she received the old man back
-from the verge of a lonely, unattended death.
-
-Simon Hart had dropped into a chair. His elbow was among the medicine
-vials; his hand over his face. Old David looked doubtfully from one to
-the other; after an instant, exerting himself, he caught at Simon's
-free hand and placed Rachel's in it. "There!" he sighed, and while
-they watched him, he settled back on the pillows, his lids drooping.
-Exhausted, he fell asleep, his parted lips giving to his face the aloof
-expression of death.
-
-It was as if he had been waiting the consummation of this one hope, for
-after that he sank rapidly. During the anguished days that followed,
-Rachel never permitted herself to question the step she had taken. She
-expected to fulfil her promise, meanwhile she preferred not to
-calculate the price of her sacrifice. She thought only of her
-grandfather, and if she had been told to die in order to save him, she
-would have been dead.
-
-Simon Hart had lost standing in his own eyes. He tried to view the
-situation complacently, to find in it cause for self-justification.
-Then came the conviction that he must release her. For the present,
-however, let the engagement stand. It quieted the old man's fears and
-left Rachel free to receive at his hands the assistance she otherwise
-would have hesitated to accept.
-
-Upon his advice a trained nurse was secured and lodgings in the
-neighbourhood were found for Nora Gage. As the last hours of old
-David's existence approached, Simon began to nourish timid hopes, for
-Rachel appeared to regain confidence in him. In spite of the part he
-had played, she relied on him, and drew comfort from his eyes in which
-she detected so much sympathy.
-
-The physician had made his last visit; her grandfather would scarcely
-last until dawn. His eyes, partly concealed by their flaccid lids,
-held that look which is not to be misunderstood; his head on its
-strained and swollen neck lay twisted to the side on the pillow; the
-fingers of one hand, already cold, plucked constantly at the coverlid
-with that melancholy, mechanical movement of the dying, as if his
-spirit, longing to be free, would fain rid itself of all encumbrances.
-The left side, instead of the right, was now stricken.
-
-A few minutes before sunrise, there came a change. He had lain so
-quiet for many hours that they thought he slept, but suddenly Rachel
-perceived that his eyes were wide open and that he was listening
-intently to the wind whistling in the space between the houses. Its
-rushing passage produced a last flicker in the fantastic mind.
-
-"The cars! We're whirlin'--" His mouth opened in astonishment.
-"Stop, look, listen!" he muttered faintly, turning his eyes to hers.
-Then the air ceased to undulate, grew quiet, above his still and amazed
-face.
-
-The first golden beams of the sun peeped in at the windows as old
-David's soul, in the majesty of its innocence, passed from earth.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
- A WOMAN'S CAPRICE--A FATHER'S REPENTANCE--A
- LOVER'S SELF-CONQUEST--A GIRL'S PITY
-
-When Simon Hart agreed to his cousin's plan, and Rachel, despite her
-protests, was conveyed from the hospital to Julia Burgdorf's house, he
-did not experience the unpleasantness he had anticipated. The
-personality of his cousin was not agreeable to him. He had never liked
-her; partly, because he was jealous of a social prestige which he
-himself had never been able to attain; partly, because he disapproved
-of her dropping her family name, for Julia, when a child, had adopted
-the cognomen of a distant relative from whom she had inherited a
-fortune. But the fundamental reason for his disapprobation lay deeper,
-concealed in the current of their common blood.
-
-Though diametrically opposed to Julia in character, Simon was able to
-comprehend in her traits which he especially disliked. They were like
-two compounds containing different proportions of the same ingredient.
-In Simon the strain of their common ancestry had been fused with a
-widely alien current. From his mother, a pale-featured, down-looking
-woman, much given to keeping her own counsel, he had inherited his air
-of secrecy, his pallor, as well as his capacity for profound and
-delicate feeling. But in Julia the original current of the Hart blood
-retained all its primitive strength; plainly, she was one whose
-forefathers had loved "wine and women and wild boars," and in every
-trait she was more closely related to old Nicholas than was Simon.
-Though Nicholas now quaveringly sought the beauties of a butterfly's
-wing, time was when he had pursued woman's glances with the same
-ardour; in fact, he had been in his day a cup of lusty life. It was
-the very irony of fate that this legacy of the Hart spirit had passed
-his own son and descended in all its troubled richness on his sister's
-child. The only difference between uncle and niece was that which is
-accounted for by sex. Julia, being no fool, accepted the restraints
-that hamper the existence of a conventional woman. Like Nicholas she
-had slight sympathy with Simon. The antagonism of the cousins was
-mutual. In speaking of Julia, Simon habitually employed an ironical
-tone; while Julia treated Simon with condescension, and, behind his
-back, with ridicule. But now one subject united them.
-
-Immediately after the death of old David, Rachel, exhausted and
-ill-nurtured, was conveyed to a private hospital, a victim of typhoid
-fever. For a time the outcome of the struggle appeared dubious, but
-three weeks after the fever declared itself, she rallied. Then it was
-that Simon went to Julia with the general points of her story and a
-hesitating request.
-
-The girl was absolutely alone, without relatives or friends. Would
-Julia visit her? The picture was a pathetic one, and marvelling at
-Simon's newly developed powers of eloquence, she consented. At sight
-of the invalid, her curiosity, already lively, increased to a point
-that assured decisive action. Moreover, she conceived for the young
-girl, with her forlorn face, one of those superficial attachments with
-which such women sometimes seek to fill their empty lives.
-
-As soon as Rachel was convalescent Julia insisted, nay, commanded, that
-she be transferred to her own house. A visit of a few days in novel
-and comfortable surroundings, she argued, would tend to hasten her
-recovery. The fact was, Julia desired further opportunity to study the
-girl who had made a conquest of her cousin. Simon's ill-concealed
-interest in her afforded Julia delicious amusement. She had never
-deemed him capable of falling in love. When he announced that he hoped
-sometime to marry Miss Beckett, Julia's amazement was complete. Hoped!
-She gasped, then shrugged. What did he mean by taking that tone, a man
-of his position? It was mock humility--hypocrisy more disgusting than
-any of which she had dreamed him capable. But she soon discovered that
-his lack of assurance was justified.
-
-At first she doubted. The "young person" (for it was thus Julia in
-thought designated Rachel) but cherished deep-laid plans, holding Simon
-the more securely by appearing not to desire to hold him. It was
-clever acting, and notwithstanding that she felt bound to oppose the
-ridiculous match, Julia could but admire the fair schemer who used her
-weakness and illness as additional bait for hooking such a fine fish.
-Then this theory exploded and she saw the situation in its piquancy:
-
-Rachel was actually indifferent to the entire question of the marriage.
-
-Having made the astonishing discovery, Julia renounced her worldliness
-for the time. Had the circumstances been other than just what they
-were, had the stranger been as eager for the marriage as Simon himself,
-Julia assuredly would have employed every means to frustrate their
-plans, and would have taken a malicious pleasure in her own manoeuvring
-because of rooted antipathy to Simon. As matters stood, however, she
-resolved to do the ignorant and unambitious young thing a service in
-spite of herself. Instead of a few days, Julia begged to keep the
-invalid indefinitely, and it was owing to her entreaties, rather than
-to Simon's arguments, that Rachel finally consented to remain a
-fortnight.
-
-Then Julia applied herself, with the utmost discretion, to furthering
-the romance. She attempted to prick the girl to interest by discreetly
-praising Simon. He was very much looked up to by members of the
-Jewellers' Association of which he was the president; as a business
-man, as a member of society at large, he was irreproachable: and she
-made these statements without a curl of the lip. Rachel listened in
-silence. Then Julia employed other tactics. She waxed spiteful in her
-remarks about her cousin; she even laughed at his peculiarities. An
-oyster was not more secretive, and save for his trick of running his
-fingers through his hair in moments of agitation or excitement, one
-would never dream that he knew an emotion. At that, the other raised
-resentful eyes. She saw nothing ridiculous about Mr. Hart; on the
-contrary, his manner was unusually dignified. In justice to him she
-avowed the fact, then would say no more.
-
-As yet Rachel was too weak to consider her situation. Grief had
-excluded every other emotion; even memory of Emil had flagged. Ill at
-ease and oppressed by the luxury around her, she strove to conceal
-every sign of her desperate sorrow and it was only at night that she
-relaxed command over herself. Then, convulsed with sobs, she lay in
-the darkness and, stretching out her hands, whispered, "Grandfather,
-are you there?" Her despair was the deeper because of the fantastic
-conceit that old David's simple soul was kept away by the richness of
-her surroundings. Had she remained in the poor rooms of the tenement,
-his spirit could have found her readily, descending out of that patch
-of pure sky visible through the dormer windows, even as the souls of
-saints and angels descend out of the blue in old pictures.
-
-These woful imaginings, incident to physical weakness, for a time
-oppressed her; but later, as her strength came, she turned from them.
-She began to look at life with apprehensive eyes, though she still said
-little.
-
-Simon felt that she was reading him and agonized under her gaze.
-Vainly he tried to speak the word that honour, pity, decency demanded.
-Could he have beheld her existing without masculine companionship, he
-would have released her, but the possibility of an unknown rival in the
-shrouded future, a rival whose love she would return, sealed his lips.
-Out of her presence the tension of the situation was relieved. When no
-longer confronted by her helpless and mutely accusing youth, it was a
-simple matter for him to convince himself that the step he had
-contemplated was unnecessary. Girls as young as she were material
-easily moulded; if she did not love him now, she would later.
-Meanwhile the situation was ambiguous, and for that reason, if for no
-other, an early marriage was advisable.
-
-Despite these arguments, he began to show the effect of mental torture.
-The man was passing through fire. At last even Julia was moved by his
-look. As Rachel was the cause of the unnatural, strained situation,
-she proposed that something be done to rouse her spirits.
-
-"Give her a taste of pleasure," Julia advised, "She's a little frozen
-ghost now, but I've yet to see the girl whose gloom won't yield to
-amusement and excitement."
-
-With an eagerness almost pathetic, Simon agreed to this proposal. But
-just what could they do?
-
-The answer came promptly: "Dress her properly and carry her off to some
-gay resort for the early spring. I will take her in charge, if you say
-so?"
-
-But before they had developed a plan, the problem was unexpectedly
-solved. Emily Short was the curative agent.
-
-It was a cold morning in March, and Emily, barring the interruption of
-the doctor's visit, had been with Rachel for an hour when Simon
-arrived. As he entered his cousin's hall he met the physician who was
-just getting into his great-coat. Simon paused to consult him.
-
-"These women are certainly astonishing creatures," the physician
-remarked, settling his muffler. "The more experience I have in the
-medical profession, the more I feel that, owing to their nervous
-vitality, their recuperative power is prodigious. Miss Beckett has
-just had some news, I gather," he explained, "and it's done more for
-her than any amount of tonics. I imagine she knows very clearly what
-she wants to do, and my advice is, don't oppose her. Good morning, Mr.
-Hart." And the doctor passed out through the door which was opened for
-him by the obsequious butler.
-
-Simon felt a sense of gnawing irritation.
-
-"Now does that mean that he advises allowing her to return to that
-unsanitary tenement, if that chances to be her wish," he asked himself,
-"or has Julia set something on foot without consulting me?"
-
-It was not without a struggle that Simon had brought himself to trust
-his cousin; and now, in spite of her continued kindness and avowed
-interest in his plans, he constantly dreaded her interference.
-
-It being the usual hour for his visit, he did not have himself
-announced, but proceeded directly to Julia's sitting room where Rachel
-usually spent the morning. As he went toward the door, the thick
-carpet deadened his footsteps and he heard Rachel speaking in a voice
-wrought to a high pitch:
-
-"I never imagined things happened this way outside of novels. But is
-Father alive? What do you say?"
-
-"I should hardly say that he is," replied Emily. "If he were merely
-sending the money to you by this person, who is so afraid of telling
-his name, he'd have been apt to write and explain things."
-
-"Yes, of course. But I must do what I can to find this John Smith.
-Oh, I shall get well now! And isn't it providential, all this money,
-and from my own Father? I can pay my debts now." The tone was
-jubilant.
-
-Simon Hart, with a sensation of fear and guilt, did not wait to hear
-more. Pushing aside the strings of beads, the rattling of which jarred
-intolerably on his nerves, he entered the coquettish apartment. As he
-approached Rachel, avoiding collision with the divers chairs, screens,
-tables with which the place was littered, his face revealed little of
-what he was feeling.
-
-On perceiving him, she half rose. Her breath grew short--or did he
-imagine it?--her eyes narrowed, then filled once more with the
-irradiating light of happiness. As their hands met he observed that
-her cheeks were glowing. Only her extreme slenderness and her cropped
-head told the story of recent illness.
-
-"Oh, such news!" she cried, striving to repress her excitement. "Here,
-sit down," indicating a chair beside her own, "and Emily, you tell
-him." And as the little toy-maker took up the tale, Rachel looked into
-his face. But hardly had Emily opened her lips than she was silenced.
-
-"No, no, I'll tell him myself. What do you think! _I've heard from my
-Father_! He has never seen me, I have never seen him, but suddenly he
-sends some money." Here Rachel's eyes shot a question--or again, did
-he imagine it?
-
-"But you haven't exactly heard from him," Emily Short interrupted; "you
-don't know anything positively."
-
-At these words, to Simon's relief, Rachel turned from him. "But I tell
-you I do know something positively, and that's enough," with a gesture
-of pride, "if I never hear anything more. He sent this money to my
-mother. Do you suppose that explains nothing to me?"
-
-All at once she was the incarnation of tenderness and defiance. She
-had retained from childhood a picture of her father limned in the
-quaint language of old David. Now she in turn presented the portrait
-to these strangers. In the light of that mystical tribunal, buttressed
-so strongly by love and imagination, Thomas Beckett stood forth a
-figure vastly human, passionate and compelling; and she defied them to
-judge him otherwise.
-
-But all at once she ceased twisting the tassels which adorned her
-girdle and dropped her chin in the cup of her hand.
-
-"Sometimes I feel that it was all owing to the sea," she continued;
-"had we lived further inland I believe Father wouldn't have left us.
-For the land is stationary, even the trees are tied to it by the foot;
-while the sea--every drop is free. It can dash and gnaw its way
-through the hardest substances. But man is not like the sea. He may
-hurl himself upon life, yes--" The sentence concluded in a sigh.
-
-At the beginning of this agitated speech Simon had gazed at her with
-anxious curiosity; then he grew jealous of this father who drew her
-thoughts so far afield from all he knew or sympathized with. He began
-to congratulate her.
-
-She did not heed him.
-
-"So you can see how it came about, can't you?" and she looked first at
-him and then at Emily. "Restless, dissatisfied, tormented, that's what
-Father was. He asked something of life which life didn't give him, and
-when the new ship he had helped to build was finished, he simply sailed
-away in her."
-
-This defence was painful to Simon, and Rachel all at once felt his
-attitude.
-
-"See," she said in an altered voice, "all this gold; seven hundred
-dollars of it," and she indicated a box on the table. "It came from a
-place in Massachusetts. Read this," thrusting into his hand a card on
-which were printed the words:
-
-"To Mrs. Lavina Beckett from her husband Thomas Beckett."
-
-"And there was no letter of explanation? Do you mean to say that you
-have no clue as to who forwarded the money?" Simon asked the question
-because it seemed to be demanded of him. In reality he was not curious.
-
-"Yes, we have a clue, but there was no letter except one which André
-Garins, my old school friend, said was written to the postmaster at Old
-Harbour by a man signing himself John Smith. This man asked if my
-mother was still living there, but the postmaster is new to the place,
-and doesn't know much about the people at the Point anyway; so he wrote
-back that Mother was dead and that André Garins at Pemoquod could
-probably give him information about the daughter, that is, about me."
-
-"Yes; and just as soon as he gets this letter, that John Smith, or
-whatever his rightful name is, sends his box of gold post-haste to your
-friend, and directs on the outside that it be forwarded to you. I tell
-Rachel that the man, whoever he may be, isn't anxious to have her get
-in touch with him," added Emily, addressing herself to Simon. "It's my
-opinion he's keeping back part of the money her father gave him, and I
-think it's foolish for her to go and get all keyed up."
-
-Simon was saved the necessity of answering.
-
-"But why, if he's dishonest, did he send any money at all? But that's
-not the point," Rachel went on; "I shan't rest until I've been to that
-town in Massachusetts to see what I can learn about Father. Why do you
-both try to discourage me? Oh, you don't understand!" And suddenly
-the tears were streaming. She was too weak to combat them further.
-
-Simon could not endure the sight of suffering; even the constant and to
-a degree superficial tragedies of the lower animals and insects
-tortured him; for that reason he never went near his father's room
-where flies, still living, impaled on pins, seemed appealing to him for
-the help he dared not give. Now his face twitched.
-
-"But I assure you I do understand," he protested, "and I will either go
-myself and make the necessary investigation, or I will accompany you
-when you are sufficiently strong."
-
-At these words she pressed his fingers warmly, though she shook her
-head: "No, I should prefer--I should rather go alone."
-
-"Rachel!" he cried, and looked his pain.
-
-"Or I will take Emily."
-
-She rose and pausing beside the table turned over a gold piece; then
-she passed to a window where she stood.
-
-"Grandfather always said that we should hear from Father sometime," she
-exulted, "and I've a feeling that he knows _now_" and she glanced round
-at them with a bright, almost crafty expression.
-
-Simon drummed fingers on a knee. What effect would this wind-fall have
-on their relationship? That she intended to free herself from her
-financial obligation he gathered from the words he had chanced to
-overhear. But as their interests would soon be identical, why did she
-not ignore so small a matter? unless-- He threw an examining,
-wretched look toward her and took her decision from the independent
-bearing of her pretty shoulders.
-
-At this point his reflections were interrupted. Julia had just
-returned from an early round of the most fashionable shops. She came
-in, briskly ungloving her hands; then stood still. Rachel sprang
-toward her. The girl flushed, talked with her hands, laughed. At last
-she had no unenthusiastic listener. Unaccustomed to the sight of gold,
-Emily Short, ever since the opening of the box, had been fairly awed.
-To think that she had left it under the bed the night before, and that
-morning had conveyed it openly through the streets! Happiness at
-Rachel's good fortune surged high, none the less her impulse was to
-temper the other's excitement. Julia was wiser. She smothered Rachel
-in an embrace. Pushing up her veil she kissed her on both cheeks and
-even shed a few tears over her. At that moment, despite his dejection,
-Simon warmed to something like affection for his cousin.
-
-After much argument Rachel was allowed to follow her own course.
-Accompanied by Emily Short she departed for the mill town from which
-John Smith had written. She spent a week in a vain search, then giving
-the matter into the hands of a local detective, she returned to New
-York.
-
-Simon met the two women at the station. The greetings over, he
-possessed himself of Rachel's bag and led the way to a cab. She
-touched his arm.
-
-"Not to Miss Burgdorf's--to Emily's, please."
-
-Each paled. Her eyes as ever read right in.
-
-When she was seated in the cab, she leaned forward: "And you will come
-this evening?"
-
-He bowed, stiff as a ramrod, strained about the lips.
-
-During the days of Rachel's absence his soul had been a field of
-conflict. He had written her letters only to destroy them. Why be so
-certain of her attitude? Women were inexplicable; he might be
-mistaken. He postponed the decision. Now he must release her; now
-when the issue was forced, when there was no semblance of generosity in
-the act. And he despaired of making her believe what he strove to make
-himself believe, as a last stay to self-respect, that the circumstance
-of her illness had alone delayed the step. The make-shift engagement
-had rested on her dire need of money, on his ability to supply it. Why
-blink the fact?
-
-When the cab containing Rachel and her companion rolled away, he walked
-toward Fifth Avenue, without realizing what he was doing, stunned as if
-he had received a blow. For an hour he walked in a sort of stupour.
-Then he entered a cafe. As the blood circulated sluggishly in his
-veins, he had fallen into the habit of drinking moderate but constantly
-repeated quantities of liquor; the stimulant was no more manifest
-through the pallor of his countenance than wine that is poured into an
-opaque vessel, but it seemed to quicken his faculties. Summoning an
-attendant, he gave an order. He remained in the cafe until evening.
-
-When he entered Emily Short's room, Rachel stood near the table well in
-the light of the lamp. She greeted him with a touch of constraint.
-More than usual her eyes kept a watch on him. Her whole countenance
-announced subtly and triumphantly that she had it in her power to
-redeem her debt: then, perhaps he would release her! This thought
-seemed to flash even from her hands.
-
-He looked swiftly at her hands. She was fingering a small packet of
-which his misery divined the nature. She had wrapped it in tissue
-paper. This girlish device to render the thing she planned to do less
-distressful, struck a blow at his heart.
-
-"One word--listen to me!" he cried, keeping an agonized gaze on the
-packet, "I no longer wish--I realize that to unite your life with
-mine--I know the very thought is painful--"
-
-Lifting his eyes, he saw an expression like a darting of light.
-
-Conscious that he was not speaking as he had intended to speak, he drew
-his fingers through his hair. "You are free," he stammered, "it was
-never my intention to hold you to your promise. But it is impossible
-that you should comprehend my struggle--"
-
-He broke off, striving for his usual calm, and this effort to place a
-mask over his anguish produced on her much the same effect as the
-concealing piece of paper had produced on him.
-
-Caught in a tide of emotion, she extended a hand: "But I can--I do
-understand. Haven't you shown your feeling for me constantly? You
-have been kind--kind!"
-
-He shook his head. "No, no," he muttered, "not kind; helpless. I
-tried more than once to release you; I beg you to believe this. But I
-loved you too much." His face expressed acute suffering; his lower lip
-trembling so that he could scarcely pronounce the words.
-
-"Can you forgive me?"
-
-No concealment now. A naked, humble, imploring, despairing soul looked
-from his eyes.
-
-It was not in her to resist such an appeal. Her heart flamed with
-pity, pity that annihilated all selfish exultation. "There is nothing
-to forgive."
-
-"But you do forgive me?" he insisted.
-
-"I thank you--I thank you from the bottom of my soul."
-
-Again he shook his head disowning his right to gratitude. His eyes
-once more watched what she held.
-
-All at once, reading his look, the discrepancy between the nature of
-her indebtedness and the sordid return she had planned, struck her.
-She laid the packet on the table.
-
-He looked up, questioningly.
-
-So repugnant did the action she had contemplated now appear to her that
-she hung her head.
-
-"I no longer wish to give it to you," she said in a stifled voice.
-"Grandfather's happiness, my own life--can money pay for such things?"
-
-He took her by the hand.
-
-It was some moments before he could regain command of himself. Then he
-said:
-
-"I am always your friend, Rachel."
-
-She nodded.
-
-For some moments longer they stood, their hands joined. Presently he
-touched her forehead with his lips. "Good-bye."
-
-She stood as he had left her, her bosom rising and falling softly and
-heavily, her eyes betraying all that was passing within her. Never did
-countenance more plainly announce a struggle. By this final act, he
-had erased from the scroll any charge against him of dishonour and
-selfishness. Her instinctive trust of him, persisting in the face of
-his weakness, was vindicated. The flame of her liking leapt higher.
-Open-lipped, open-eyed, open-eared, she listened to his retreating
-steps.
-
-Momentarily the consciousness of her debt to him increased. She was
-allowing him to go--this man who had aided her in the blackest hour of
-her life; who loved her, who offered her all a man can offer a woman.
-She placed him high, herself low. She saw him noble, herself craven.
-To receive so much and to give nothing! It was contrary to her nature.
-But one return she could make! Above waves of confusion the thought
-flashed and flashed.
-
-Was she capable of the sacrifice? Deeply she sounded her heart. Her
-life was empty, irretrievably, permanently empty and desolate, she told
-herself with the sureness of the tragic young. To what better use put
-its fruitless days? The idea assumed the brightness of a star above
-troubled deeps. She sprang to the door, calling.
-
-He did not answer, though his step was still faintly distinguishable in
-the hall.
-
-Bending over the well of the staircase, she repeated her call.
-
-The footsteps halted: then from the darkness below she heard him
-ascending.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-RACHEL--SIMON
-
-Her heroism was of the youthful, purblind, impetuous order. She had
-reasoned falsely and acted generously. But she was not one to sink
-wittingly to a lower level. Later, when she suspected the truth, she
-did not admit it to her own heart--least of all to her own heart. She
-was very glad of what she had done.
-
-But she delayed the marriage; there were preparations to make. For no
-reason that anyone could fathom, she insisted on remaining in the
-Street of Masts. One concession she made: at Simon's urgent request
-she consented to retain Nora Gage. The two occupied the old rooms
-across the hallway from Emily Short.
-
-The money received from her father was sufficient to supply Rachel's
-needs and even permitted the preparation of a simple wardrobe. Under
-Emily's supervision she planned and cut out and sewed feverishly for
-days together. Then abruptly she would abandon her needle. She bought
-books and endeavoured to teach herself French. She was never idle.
-
-"You are overdoing," Simon remonstrated. "You will make yourself ill
-with these things."
-
-She shook her head. Activity was good for her.
-
-With the success of his suit, Simon had recovered poise. His manner
-was dignified and somewhat stiff. He spoke slowly and in a
-well-modulated voice. To the world he was as he had been formerly; but
-Rachel read deeper.
-
-She knew that he desired to be gallant, even witty. And this effort to
-be all that she wished him to be touched her profoundly. Constantly he
-was bringing gifts. Offering them to her, he would watch her face to
-see if he had selected wisely. She perfectly understood this desire to
-offer something that would afford pleasure. Had she not experienced
-the same impulse? though she had not been able to gratify it. When she
-met Emil St. Ives in the cemetery at Old Harbour--how long ago it
-seemed now--instead of gifts she had been able to give him only an
-earnest, unswerving attention. This listening on the part of a girl to
-his long, often technical explanations, had he valued it, as she valued
-Simon's presents? But these reflections were checked by a prompt
-warning from within. Danger lay that way. Memory would prove a
-scourge if indulged and she did not want to feel.
-
-Notwithstanding the approaching realization of what he had desired so
-long, Simon Hart still had moments when he suffered. The Street of
-Masts had always been an obnoxious quarter in his eyes, though for a
-short period, the fact that Rachel dwelt in it had somewhat modified
-its objectionable features. But that was before their engagement. Now
-the entire section stirred in him a positive repugnance. That she, his
-future wife, should elect to remain in a sordid setting when she might
-have been surrounded by every luxury, filled him with a dull sense of
-anger and chagrin. But he was unequal to the task of remonstrating.
-Whenever he thought of speaking strongly to her on the matter, timidity
-overcame him. Knowing what her feeling was for him, he shrank from the
-appearance of urging any claim. Julia Burgdorf by her attitude
-increased his discomfort.
-
-Ever since Rachel's refusal to return to her house when she had
-expected her, Julia, with the childish pique of a woman accustomed to
-having every whim gratified, had washed her hands of her. Whenever she
-saw Simon she bantered him on the subject of his prolonged engagement.
-
-"Is the happy day fixed yet?" she would cry, with eye and shoulder
-play. "No? Is it possible! The headstrong young person hesitates to
-renounce her freedom? Even the prospect of escaping life in an attic
-does not influence her? Extraordinary!"
-
-Whenever he went to see Rachel, Simon was beset by the dread that he
-might meet one of his business acquaintances. What if by chance it
-became known that he intended to marry a young woman who lived on the
-lower East side? Things like that easily leaked out. Finally his
-sensitiveness increased to the point where he shrank even from the
-frank gaze of the children in the street, a gaze which singled him out
-because of his clothes, his gait, his strangeness to their world. More
-than all else he feared the curiosity of members of his own household.
-The maid who had admitted Rachel and her grandfather when they called
-at the house had left his service. When Rachel came there as his bride
-nothing of her history would be known to the servants. None the less
-he felt that Theresa Walker, his housekeeper, eyed him shrewdly. Not
-only this, he was convinced that she had communicated her suspicions to
-Peter, the coachman. Otherwise, why should Peter, who was old and
-stupid, wear such a significant look because he, Simon, failed to use
-the horses, as formerly, for a short time every evening?
-
-However, though he suffered for the reasons just related, he was, on
-the whole, very tranquil. Nor was his engagement his only cause for
-satisfaction. He was about to bring out his book on gems. It was a
-voluminous work, weighty, carefully prepared, extensively illustrated.
-He awaited its appearance with eagerness. When the first copy arrived
-from the publisher he took it the same evening to Rachel.
-
-She had had a trying day. Her modest preparations could not be
-indefinitely prolonged. Even Emily Short, who had been a most exacting
-and untiring assistant, acknowledged that three days would see the
-completion of the wardrobe. Rachel listened and acquiesced. Emotion,
-out of the depths of her, still sent up momentary, lurid flashes, but
-Reason smothered the flashes with impetuous arguments. Finally Reason
-hurled Honour and Duty, a combined extinguisher, on the flame. Though
-triumphant in her virtuous decision to give Simon the information he
-had awaited so patiently, she was in an exasperated mood when he
-arrived. Her mood demanded a tangible grievance and he found her with
-anger-crimsoned cheeks inspecting a dress.
-
-"I ought never to have trusted it to that ignorant seamstress," she
-cried. "I ought to have given it to that woman whose address your
-cousin sent me. It's my own fault that it's ruined."
-
-"But what's wrong with it?" he asked, taking a fold of the material
-between a thumb and finger.
-
-She frowned. "Everything's wrong. It doesn't fit for one thing; and
-it's too long for another. But it doesn't matter. Let us talk no more
-about it." And seating herself beside the lamp, she took up a bit of
-hemstitching. She drew the needle through the dainty material, still,
-however, exhibiting strong signs of annoyance. Everything excited her
-now.
-
-"Emily and I have accomplished a tremendous amount this week," she said
-by way of preface to her important announcement. "We're getting ahead
-finely."
-
-"Ah, that's good," he said. "But remember not to overshoot the mark,
-Rachel; there'd be no wisdom in that. And now to prove that I've not
-been idle while you've been slaving with your pretty fingers, I have
-brought this. You know I told you that before long I hoped to be able
-to complete the work."
-
-She did not at once comprehend to what he referred, but she saw that he
-wished to tell her something flattering to himself, and by means of
-questions she led him on.
-
-With a smile, he drew the book from its wrappings.
-
-Her needle-work slipped to the floor and she received the volume in
-both hands. "Oh, Simon!"
-
-"Do you like it?"
-
-"How handsome it is! And how fine these coloured plates are! Oh what
-it must mean to you to see this work at last in definite shape." For
-she suddenly appreciated all the joy that lay for him, the author,
-between those stiff new pages. The last vestige of her ill nature
-vanished and she looked up at him eagerly.
-
-"And the indications are that it is going to be well received," he told
-her, with an air of satisfaction. "I've seen some of the advance
-notices. They could scarcely be more complimentary."
-
-Like most women Rachel adored in a man power to achieve distinction.
-She counted it an additional proof of strength. She had been drawn to
-Emil partly because of his genius which had compelled her to look up.
-But thus far, though she appreciated his essential worth, she had not
-been successful in encouraging her imagination to dwell on Simon and
-invest him with uncommon attributes. A little shiver of excitement ran
-through her.
-
-The consciousness of shining had called forth a look on Simon's face.
-
-"The _Courier_ says it's a work which is bound to attract attention,
-relating as it does all the old legends connected with gems, besides
-giving solid facts of their history."
-
-She had no reason for thinking the book was not what he believed it to
-be, a work of merit, possibly of unique value. She nodded, so anxious
-to see him burnished, that she saw him burnished.
-
-"Even the reviewer of the _Messenger_, usually cynical, speaks well of
-it."
-
-"I am very, very glad." Her voice thrilled with gratification.
-
-"I knew you would be," he returned feelingly. "This copy is for you."
-
-She put out her hand.
-
-He grasped it, folding it against his cheek. "You know how you can
-best thank me, don't you?" he said. He was not a lover to be
-inconsiderately treated by any woman. At the moment he was singularly
-handsome.
-
-With her free hand she turned the pages of the book. An involuntary
-sigh lifted her breast.
-
-"Can't you tell me to-night, Rachel?" he urged. "I've waited so long
-to know?"
-
-She had let her head drop lower. In reality she was impatient that she
-still had to struggle with herself. At his last words she lifted her
-face. "I was going to tell you to-night," she said. "Will two weeks
-from Wednesday do?"
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-THE BIRD IN THE BOX
-
-It was mid-winter, season of the early-lighted lamp. The mortal part
-of old David had lain in the grave for a twelvemonth. It was as if
-Heaven itself sought to do honour to his innocence. Contributing flake
-after flake of snow with the aid of that great artisan the wind, it had
-built up a gleaming monument to his memory.
-
-But in the city the office of the angels was performed with greater
-difficulty. Patiently they flung a mantle of snow over the island.
-They spread it smoothly in the streets, festooned it over the arches of
-the bridges, tucked it cunningly away in the bell towers of the
-churches. They mounted to the tops of the tallest buildings, laying
-delicate ridges at the window ledges; stooped to the dingiest basement
-doorways, carpeting them with white. Constantly the mantle was
-displaced, shovelled aside, melted away; and the city, despite her
-glitter of lights, was revealed. About every chimney-pot appeared a
-circle of dampness, along every roof edge hung a row of tears; from end
-to end of the city was the sound of dull dripping. Manhattan, like a
-woman of pleasure, wept her sins, and the angels, the angels tried in
-vain to render her seemly in the eyes of the good God.
-
-The clock on the Grand Central tower was hard on five when the train
-bearing Simon Hart and his bride drew in at the station. They were
-returning from their prolonged wedding journey. Rachel adjusted her
-veil. Though her lips were steady, her eyes were full of tears.
-Within the hour they had whirled past the cemetery where her
-grandfather was buried.
-
-Simon assisted her from the train; then, with his heavy and dignified
-gait, he led the way through the waiting-room.
-
-"I wired my man to meet us. Ah, there he is!" he exclaimed, as they
-reached the drifted pavement, and he expanded his chest with
-complacency.
-
-Peter with difficulty brought the horses to the curb and Simon, after
-Rachel had taken her place in the carriage, climbed in himself. Then
-he thrust his head through the door and ordered the man to drive home,
-but Rachel plucked his sleeve.
-
-"No, no," she coaxed, "tell him to drive to the shop first."
-
-Simon, though he altered the direction, when he settled himself at her
-side, looked at her with a slightly mocking expression.
-
-"I want to get that fiddle from Mr. Mudge," she explained. "In his
-last letter he said he'd found one and I want Nora to take it to André
-when she goes. She's starting for Old Harbour at once and will call
-for the fiddle as soon as I let her know we're here. Then, too," with
-a side glance, "I'm anxious, if you must know, to learn from Mr. Mudge
-how that heat-measurer turned out."
-
-"That is, you wish to learn whether he has heard anything from your
-enterprising inventor?"
-
-"Well yes," she admitted; and they both laughed.
-
-A few days before their marriage, Simon had chanced to remark that an
-instrument for measuring heat in the furnace in which metals were
-melted would be an important acquisition to the manufacturing jeweller.
-Thereupon Rachel had begged him to submit the problem to Emil St. Ives.
-To please her he had carried out her wish. Bearing a note from her to
-the inventor (a note in which she incidentally announced her
-matrimonial plans) Simon had sought out Emil whom he located readily
-through the lithographing firm of Just and Lawless. Emil without
-hesitation had promised the instrument within a week. Now three months
-had elapsed without a word from him and at any mention of the subject,
-Simon was wont to adopt a tone of raillery.
-
-"Better give up your expectations along that line, my dear," he advised
-now; "that instrument will never materialize; St. Ives, judging by his
-look, is no more to be depended upon than the wild man from Borneo.
-Besides, if we stop at the shop, we'll miss the overture of the opera,
-and in Faust the overture is a consideration. Can't you restrain your
-eagerness until morning?"
-
-But Rachel was not to be swayed: "Tell the man to drive faster."
-
-Since her marriage her restlessness had disappeared; she was calmer,
-happier, and whenever she looked at her husband, whenever she surprised
-in his eyes an expression of doubt and longing, affection rose in her
-heart. The fact that he did not seek to interfere with her strange
-friendships filled her with gratitude.
-
-The carriage stopped before the jewellery establishment and the door
-was opened to them by a boy in uniform. In the shop the electric bulbs
-were shedding a soft radiance on the glass cases filled with gems.
-Rachel had been there several times, but this was her first visit since
-her marriage. Now she experienced a thrill of pleasure as she gazed
-about her with the curiosity that animates a woman in such a place.
-The quiet and subdued elegance of the accessories charmed her, and she
-cast a glance at her husband. The star sapphires, the black opals, the
-diamonds, arranged on squares of black velvet, lent him something of
-their own lustre.
-
-A clerk took the news of their arrival to Victor Mudge and a moment
-later they were ushered into the workshop in the rear of the elaborate
-showrooms. Here were machines for drilling holes through pearls, a
-sink for washing the finished jewellery, a little forge where gold was
-melted in crucibles. All the workmen had gone home except Victor who
-often remained until late. Now he hobbled forward with a string of
-seed pearls and a needle in his hands.
-
-One of Victor's legs was shorter than the other by reason of a fall,
-and as he walked he swayed like a little dry tree creaking in a breeze;
-one felt he had no leaves. He was secretly well-pleased by his
-employer's marriage, but it was a peculiarity of his seldom to address
-him and to observe toward him a critical manner. Now, after greeting
-the couple, he looked at Rachel exclusively.
-
-The old goldsmith, besides being something of a musician was an
-excellent judge of a violin, and at Simon's request he had obtained for
-Rachel the instrument she wished to give André.
-
-"It's not just what I wanted," he explained, "but neither is it bad."
-And thereupon he drew the bow across the violin.
-
-"Oh, how well you play!" she murmured, and then fell silent. She
-regretted that she had withheld from André news of her marriage; she
-should have told him at once. Now she planned to send him the violin
-as a sign of her unalterable affection. When Victor handed the
-instrument to Simon she aroused herself.
-
-"And how is the _pyrometer_ coming on, Mr. Mudge?" she demanded with
-animation. "Have you heard anything yet from Mr. St. Ives?"
-
-Victor shrugging his shoulders, once more took into his fingers the
-string of seed pearls and the needle. "He was in here about a week ago
-and left a drawing; and yesterday I received a letter from him saying
-he'd be in this evening to test something at the furnace. I'm waiting
-his pleasure now."
-
-Rachel suddenly laughed.
-
-When she and Simon left the shop, when they were once more in the
-carriage, she leaned to him impulsively and pressed her lips to his
-cheek.
-
-That evening she heard her first opera. In order to justify Simon's
-pride in her and also to gratify her own innate sense of coquetry, she
-had arrayed herself to great advantage. Whence came this knowledge of
-the requirements of her new position, whence the pretty dignity of her
-bearing? Perhaps from her Canadian great-grandfather and his English
-wife; or this manner of hers may have been a free gift of the gods.
-
-Excited by the strains of music that ascended from the orchestra, she
-deepened and increased in beauty and in the immediate neighbourhood of
-her husband's box became the centre of attention. But of this she was
-only imperfectly aware. If, by chance, she did intercept an admiring
-glance, she took it as a tribute to her dress of white satin, cunningly
-embroidered in a design of gold flowers, to her coiffure, her fan, her
-bouquet, to everything and anything but her own youthful countenance to
-which the force of her emotions was adding an indefinable attraction.
-She made a charming picture; her eyes half hidden by their lashes; her
-face, her shoulders, even her round arms and her hands radiant with a
-childlike happiness like sunshine.
-
-Julia Burgdorf, who sat beside her, turning her head, looked at the
-girl with a half-curious, half-wistful smile in her magnificent eyes;
-while a man who was leaning on the back of her chair, an architect with
-a pointed beard and ridiculously small hands and feet, watched Rachel
-far more than he watched the stage. Simon Hart alone of those near
-her, seemed unaware of her triumph. Holding his opera glass in his
-gloved hands, he stared straight ahead of him with his weary,
-unreadable gaze; and whenever his young wife addressed a word to him,
-he leaned toward her sidewise without turning his head.
-
-On the stage Farrar, as Marguerite, had just appeared at the window of
-her cottage after her farewell to Faust. Then as the light faded
-rapidly over the canvas trees, the spinning-wheel, the garden
-seat,--Faust in doublet and cloak, with a long feather in his cap,
-approached the casement, and there followed the poetic and sensuous
-fever of the inimitable duet, in which two voices, a man's and a
-woman's, sigh together those phrases of adoration, rapture
-supplication, of surprise, terror, yielding. When finally Marguerite's
-blond head sank on Faust's shoulder, the breath of their kiss seemed to
-pass over the entire house.
-
-Rachel's hand, incased in its long glove, closed nervously on the edge
-of the box. She wore a look of troubled amazement; presently she began
-plucking at the flowers of her bouquet. After the "garden" scene,
-however, ashamed of her emotion and desiring to escape it, she ceased
-following closely what went on upon the stage and gave herself up to
-inspecting the audience.
-
-The sight of the jewels on the heads and breasts of some ladies near
-her, chained her shy glances. She remembered Victor Mudge and the
-scene before the glowing forge. It was his cunning workmanship and the
-workmanship of others like him that made such marvels possible. And
-she rejoiced in the thought that her husband had an intimate knowledge
-of such treasures and had even written a book about them.
-
-A sense of that which is artificial in life was diffused everywhere,
-and by and by, in that atmosphere of unreality she grew calmer. But
-when at the conclusion of the performance, she found herself emerging
-from the crowded auditorium, a part of a variegated stream of jewelled
-heads, bare shoulders and black coats, she was conscious once more that
-the irresistible mystery of the music had kindled in her nerves a
-poetic fever. Suddenly she experienced a fresh impulse of affection
-for Simon. "I owe all this to him," she thought; and from under the
-hood of her opera cloak she glanced at his pale profile as he guided
-her through the richly-dressed crowd.
-
-In the foyer she discovered that she had dropped a little gold pin from
-her hair and Simon retraced his steps to search for it. They had
-parted some moments before from Julia Burgdorf and her companion. Now
-Rachel strove to remain where Simon had left her inside the great
-doors, but the surge of the crowd rendered this impossible. Jostled and
-carried forward by the moving throng, she presently found herself
-outside where the confusion was even greater.
-
-From the sky the snow still drifted imperturbably. It glistened on the
-shining backs of the horses, on the black tops of the carriages, on the
-oilskin coats of the drivers, as, with a flourish of whips, they
-brought their carriages opposite the brilliantly-lighted entrance and
-received their precious loads.
-
-Constantly the mellow stillness of the snowy night was disturbed by the
-ringing voices of the porters as they cried out the numbers of the
-carriages: "Two hundred and thirty-three!" "Three hundred and
-forty-eight!" (The voices were urgent, brutal, quarrelsome.) "Four
-hundred and forty-five!" All at once Rachel was startled by the call:
-"Mr. Hart's carriage!" And simultaneously a tall figure approached
-her. Lifting a cap from his rough locks the man looked closely into her
-face.
-
-There was snow in his beard, on his hair, on his shoulders. He was
-smiling in a questioning fashion, and in his eyes, beneath their
-overhanging brows, was an inconceivable life and vitality.
-
-A look of joy flashed into Rachel's face and she extended a hand which
-he took in both his. For a space, overwhelmed as two children, they
-could do nothing but look each at the other.
-
-Then the harsh cry of a porter broke the spell. "Here, drive on, you,"
-he cried angrily to the Harts' coachman.
-
-But Emil St. Ives raised his voice. "Wait a moment!" he called out;
-then to Rachel,--"I'll keep a lookout for Mr. Hart;" and offering her
-his arm he conducted her to the carriage.
-
-When she had taken her place in it, the coachman left the line of
-waiting vehicles and drove a few paces down the street. Emil followed.
-As he approached, Rachel succeeded in letting down the glass of the
-carriage door. She leaned with both arms on the ledge. Her cheeks
-showed a heightened colour, and her lips, parting in smiles, displayed
-her little teeth.
-
-"I never expected--" she began unsteadily, "I didn't know that you
-cared for the opera."
-
-Emil looked at her boldly and joyously, though at the same time with a
-hint of submission in his eyes. He had waited for her to speak, and at
-her words he drew a deep breath.
-
-"The opera?" he repeated a little hoarsely. Then he shrugged his
-shoulders. "That old fellow in your--your husband's establishment, Mr.
-Mudge, told me that you were to be here to-night, and when I found
-after testing the heat-measuring device that it worked all right, I
-thought I'd just stroll round here."
-
-"Then you have been successful?"
-
-He smiled with a touch of the egotism she remembered. "You must see it
-to judge. You _will_ come and see it?" he demanded quickly.
-
-She looked at him for some time without replying; she could not keep
-the delight out of her eyes. Suddenly she plucked her gaze away.
-"There's my husband; he doesn't see us. Signal to him, please," she
-cried.
-
-When Simon Hart saw Emil St. Ives standing in the snow beside his
-wife's carriage, he approached, looking straight at Rachel. At Emil he
-scarcely glanced, though when the inventor opened the carriage door for
-him, he thanked him with a slight inclination of the head. When he was
-seated, Rachel put a hand on his arm.
-
-"Simon, you know Mr. St. Ives, I believe?" she said. Her voice was
-unusually soft and she had gone a little pale. "He has come to tell us
-that the heat-measurer--the _pyrometer_, I should say," she corrected
-herself, "works perfectly."
-
-"Ah it works, does it?" Simon repeated, and he looked coldly at Emil
-St. Ives. "I'm delighted to hear it," he added after a moment. "But
-I'll see you to-morrow at the factory and will talk over the matter
-then."
-
-Rachel leaned in front of her husband impulsively. "I'll come too,"
-she said, "for I'm going to claim half the credit of the invention.
-And then," she went on, "I want to hear all about your other
-work--everything. You know I met your wife one day. Please remember
-me to her," she called as the horses started.
-
-"Well I found your pin," Simon said to her, and he handed her the tiny
-jewelled ornament.
-
-"I'm glad of that;" then, while she replaced it in her hair, "why
-didn't you show more interest in that heat-measuring instrument?" she
-asked, looking at him from under her raised arms.
-
-"Why his coming to notify us of the fact that he has succeeded with the
-device--if you'll excuse my saying so," with an ironical smile, "struck
-me as lacking in dignity, as a childish action, in fact."
-
-"Of course it was childish," she cried, "but he's an inventor. And
-just think how hard he's worked to please you," she continued. "He's
-been weeks and weeks and rejected ever so many attempts; and when he
-told you--you were so lukewarm. 'I'll see you at the factory
-to-morrow'--that's what you said to him, just as if he were a little
-boy to be pushed aside. It wasn't kind of you," she finished.
-
-A shadow passed over Simon Hart's face. "I think you exaggerate," he
-began, speaking in the slow distinct manner that was habitual with him.
-"However," he continued, "I'll endeavour to make up for my
-_lukewarmness_ to-morrow." He tried to pronounce the word in a jesting
-tone, but his whole aspect was serious. In a moment he leaned forward
-and taking one of her reluctant hands, breathing heavily, he held it
-against his lips.
-
-The principal gift which he had intended for Rachel, he had ordered
-from Geneva, and it had arrived during their absence on the wedding
-journey. Now immediately on reaching the house, without giving her
-time to lay aside her wraps and stopping only to remove his own fur
-coat, he conducted her through the sombre hallway to the more
-lugubrious drawing-room.
-
-"There, my dear," he said, pointing to a small object on the table,
-"that is for you." For he was anxious to bestow the gift as a
-peace-offering.
-
-Rachel approached the table, which was constructed of solid mahogany in
-a heavy ugly pattern, and took the leather case in her hands.
-
-"Open it, my love," he urged.
-
-She sank down in a chair and opened the case.
-
-It contained a Swiss watch set in the front of a small onyx box
-ornamented with garlands of wrought gold. Anything frailer, daintier,
-more coquettish than this little time-piece, fit property for a
-princess it would be difficult to imagine. It was a triumph of
-frivolity, a little bit of elegance in inlaid work and jewels. For
-wind the charming plaything and immediately, from beneath a gold shell
-on the cover, up sprang a tiny, buoyant bird, with ruby eyes and
-mother-of-pearl bill. Turning this way and that with flutterings of
-its variegated plumage, it trilled forth a song,--silver, clear,
-crystalline.
-
-Grasping Simon's hand, Rachel dropped her head on his arm. And for
-some reason she clung to him vehemently and he felt that her whole body
-was trembling.
-
-Congratulating himself that their reconciliation was complete, he
-caressed her hair. "It's a Swiss novelty," he explained when she
-looked up.
-
-He had been leaning over the back of her chair, now he straightened his
-shoulders and took the morocco case in his hands.
-
-"I used to know this Gellaine of Geneva," he marked. "He is one of the
-cleverest watchmakers in the world. And now, my dear," he added, "if
-you'll excuse me, I'll go and prepare myself a toddy; those boxes are
-such draughty places."
-
-As he moved to the door Rachel followed him with a glance which seemed
-to beseech him not to leave her. Then, when the door had closed on
-him, as if she would rid herself of some importunate thought, she
-examined the little timepiece. The bird had disappeared from view
-beneath the golden shell. Turning the key twice she replaced the box
-on the table, and leaning on her elbows, stared at it. But her sight
-was turned inward.
-
-The unexpected meeting with Emil had plunged her once more into chaos.
-One glance of his eyes and the curtains of her mind rolled upward. One
-intense, burning pressure of his hand laid to hers, and she knew life
-again in its fulness.
-
-Like a lost thing, from out a prison-house, her soul reviewed its past.
-Across the deep, tragic abyss that yawned between Then and Now, she saw
-Emil as in the old blissful time at Pemoquod Point. In the effulgence
-of his courage, his ardour, his genius, he had been the sun and the
-light of her world. Her heart had called him "Master." And she had
-matched him for bravery as steel matches steel that has been tempered
-by the same heat in the forming.
-
-"Together!" her heart had sung, pointing its flight to the farthest
-star of bliss.
-
-And now.
-
-She leaned forward, her head sunk between her outspread fingers, her
-gaze riveted on Simon's gift. Intently she watched the wee songster
-and listened to its tinkling song.
-
-"The--bird--in--the--box!" She said the words slowly. Then repeated
-them; "_The bird in the box_!"
-
-She lifted clenched hands to her throat.
-
-Suddenly, as if crushed by something she had tried to evade, she put
-her head down on her arms.
-
-
-Outside the snow continued to fall. It fell steadily, monotonously, as
-if seeking to cover with a white mantle something it were better to
-hide.
-
-
-
-
-BOOK III
-
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-THE HOUSE IN WASHINGTON SQUARE
-
-A rainy night was followed by a rainy morning. Between the looped
-curtains of the alcove window the ground of the square could be seen
-soggy and wet. The marble of Washington Arch showed dark streaks of
-moisture. Rachel leaned an arm on the dining room mantel. The
-housekeeper had been complaining of a litter of kittens in the basement
-which she could get no one to destroy.
-
-"Bring them in here, Theresa," Rachel ordered peremptorily; then with a
-sigh she cast herself in a chair.
-
-The woman disappeared but presently returned bearing in her hands a
-basket containing three white and grey kittens. The mother cat, a
-handsome sleek animal with a plume-like tail and round golden eyes,
-followed at her heels, alternately mewing anxiously and purring
-contentedly.
-
-"I didn't know that you were fond of cats, ma'am," murmured the
-housekeeper in an ingratiating tone. "I suppose they are all well
-enough for those who likes 'em."
-
-Before proceeding to study the kittens, Rachel drew a small flask from
-the pocket of her morning-gown. "If there isn't any more whiskey in
-the house, Theresa, send out before breakfast and get some at the
-nearest drugstore. Then refill this and take it up to Mr. Hart," she
-added without looking at the other.
-
-The housekeeper, a tall angular woman--whose flat bust and prominent
-shoulder-blades suggested the awful idea that her head was put on the
-wrong way--paused on the threshold. The bosom of her gown bristled
-with needles and bits of embroidery cotton clung to her black silk
-apron. In spite of her unattractive person there was something smart
-and pretentious about Theresa. She carried her head, covered with its
-glossy hair, as if it were decorated with an aigrette.
-
-"Shall I take up his breakfast at the same time?" she asked, and lifted
-eyes of innocence.
-
-"Mr. Hart will come downstairs for breakfast," Rachel answered shortly;
-then, sinking on the rug, she began fondling the kittens.
-
-She lifted them out of the basket one at a time, and holding them at a
-distance, looked at their faces, which, three-cornered and mottled
-light and dark, suggested pansies; at their paws, soft as velvet and
-harmless as yet; at their short frisky tails and little red mouths
-which they opened wide as they mewed straight at her. During this
-pretty play the mother cat sat by the fender and washed her face. But
-presently, at an especially distressed mew, she crossed the room and
-laid a remonstrative paw on Rachel's arm. But the girl held the kitten
-still higher so that the cat was obliged to rear herself on her hind
-feet in order to reach it. At that instant Simon Hart entered the room.
-
-"Isn't that rather cruel of you?" he asked, stooping to pat the cat
-that arched its back under his hand.
-
-"Let her reach it then," Rachel answered.
-
-After several trials, the mother cat succeeded in taking the kitten by
-the nape of its limp neck, and then hopped nimbly with it into the
-basket. Rachel looked at her gravely as she began rather roughly to
-lick the kittens with her little scarlet tongue, covered with tiny
-cones.
-
-Simon extended his hand, but Rachel made no move to rise. Instead,
-turning her head which she rested on her palm, she looked at him and
-across her face flitted a variety of emotions. He would have assisted
-her to her feet, but she would have none of him. Then another glance
-and her mood changed completely. Self-contained and enigmatic as he
-was on ordinary occasions, he showed now an embarrassment that struck
-to her heart. She put up her hands, and with a sudden violence of
-emotion, he lifted her in his arms.
-
-A moment later, she had forced him to release her, and, pale and
-thoughtful, she left the room.
-
-"We'll have breakfast in a moment," she said, reappearing. "I gave
-Theresa your flask; she is sending out," she added in a lower voice.
-
-Already Simon had assumed his usual equivocal and aloof manner. At
-these words, he lowered his eyes.
-
-"That was kind of you," he said, "I required merely a drop and I found
-what I needed. My cold," he continued, "is no worse; on the contrary,
-I shall go to the shop to-day."
-
-Since the night of the opera, three weeks before, Simon had been
-confined to the house by his dread enemy, the influenza. During this
-illness he had consumed a great quantity of liquor. If he went without
-it for any number of hours, he showed the effect. That morning Rachel
-had been moved by his pale and wretched look.
-
-During the meal he read to her part of a paper he expected to deliver
-before the Jewellers' Association. But she crumbled her bread, her
-thoughts wandering. As he was preparing to leave the house, she
-lingered about in his vicinity.
-
-"Do you know," she ventured, following him to the door, "I'm not half
-satisfied with what you did about Mr. St. Ives?" and she gave him a
-direct, almost accusing glance.
-
-"But I sent him a check, certainly liberal in the circumstances, since
-he is free to go on and manufacture--" Simon began, and he wrinkled his
-brow.
-
-Rachel shrugged her shoulders in impatience. "You sent him a check;
-yes, you even advised him to go on and manufacture that instrument.
-But he isn't capable of making a practical move. Now if you'd shown
-any real interest--" She stayed her words, silenced by contrition.
-
-After Simon had gone, she established herself with a bit of sewing in
-the dining room. It was the only room that did not weigh on her
-spirits. But she had discovered at once that this house, lonely,
-silent, forbidding, suited Simon as it was; therefore she had confined
-herself merely to refitting and converting into a sitting room an
-unused chamber on the second floor; and to making more comfortable the
-quarters of old Nicholas Hart. There her efforts had ended. An entire
-remodelling of the mansion would have been necessary to disperse the
-atmosphere of depression that, tangible as dampness, emanated from its
-walls.
-
-It had sheltered in its time, apparently, a goodly number of
-soft-moving, mirthless people. Its inner doors of dark polished wood,
-never emitted a squeak; and the occasional sounds that penetrated the
-plaster of its ceilings, suggested a company of rats that went about
-their business in hushed, apologetic groups, instead of in scampering
-hordes. The house had never become reconciled to Simon's pianola, and
-when he seated himself before the instrument, as he did with
-conscientious regularity every day after dinner, Rachel often fancied
-that the house lifted shoulders of aversion.
-
-And the legitimate inmates, she decided, were in keeping with the
-house. Simon and his housekeeper, Theresa Walker, could have desired
-nothing different in the way of a dwelling. As for old Nicholas and
-herself, not to mention the various maids who succeeded one another
-rapidly (for Theresa was difficult to suit in the matter of assistants)
-they were merely interlopers.
-
-The housekeeper inspired Rachel with a kind of horror. She had somehow
-gleaned the knowledge that this woman, with her crafty smile but
-undeniable capacity for work, when well launched in middle life, had
-seized upon the idea of marrying her cousin, a certain Jeremiah Foggs,
-when the cousin's wife, a forlorn, feckless, half-witted creature,
-should die. As the wife was little more than a troublesome charge on
-Jeremiah's hands and he feared leaving her to herself in their village
-home, he always brought her with him on the occasions of his visits to
-Theresa. During the premature courting of the hard-grained pair, the
-poor daft thing sat by the cheek of the chimney with frightened eyes
-and a shaking chin. Rachel had a theory that with kind treatment, her
-wits might have returned. But no kindness was ever shown her; on the
-contrary, Jeremiah and Theresa waited impatiently for the creeping
-disease to make way with her. Meanwhile Theresa employed the time of
-waiting to good advantage.
-
-Packed away in a chest in her room was a great quantity of hemstitched
-linen, doilies, spreads, embroidered curtains and what not. Indeed, it
-was a question whether Theresa's means of attraction did not repose
-solely in her needle; for these products of her skill, which she
-displayed on every visit of Jeremiah, certainly had a killing effect
-upon the fellow, with his bullet head. And Theresa, destitute of every
-feminine grace, gave herself airs on her handiwork as if it had been
-beauty of person and feature. They were a right curious pair; each
-with the same air of eager avidity, as if tormented by a keen desire to
-gain something, each with the same oily and ingratiating manner.
-Rachel detested Theresa even more than she had detested Nora Gage, and
-only consented to retain her because Simon seemed to desire it. In
-truth, Theresa worked in this house as smoothly and briskly as a
-shuttle in a well-oiled machine.
-
-For a time Rachel pursued her work, but presently her interest flagged
-and she dressed herself for the street. She was of two minds. Instead
-of going out immediately she ascended to the top story to take a peep
-at Nicholas. At her suggestion the old man's workroom was now on the
-third floor and it was no longer necessary for him to descend a flight
-of steps to his chamber. Also, his meals were all served to him in his
-workroom. Without comprehending the cause of his greater comfort, the
-old fellow cherished a whimsical and flighty affection for Rachel;
-while Simon was humbly grateful to her for this interest in his erratic
-parent. Now the only time Nicholas was obliged to attempt the stairs
-was when he went for an airing. On certain days of the week, if the
-weather were fine, a man nurse appeared and conveyed him to the street
-and remained with him in the Square. From these excursions Nicholas
-never returned without some token for Rachel. Now it was a cornucopia
-of popcorn which he had bought from a vender; later, as the spring
-advanced and grass began to show along the paths, it was a cluster of
-leaves and buds; not infrequently it happened that he treasured up and
-presented to her particularly handsome specimens of insects mounted on
-pins.
-
-If truth were told, little and lithe and still spry, this old
-reprobate, with his eagerness regarding the habits of the house-fly,
-his raptures and his rages, came nearer than any other person in the
-house to being keyed to the same pitch as Rachel herself. If rumour
-could be trusted, a number of discreditable experiences had made up
-Nicholas's life. He had gamed and drunk, driven fast horses, followed
-fast women. He had conducted one thriving business after another, and
-among them, the car shops that had employed old David. He had made
-fortunes with ease and lost them with equal facility. Now, in his last
-years, he was penniless and Simon was engaged in patiently paying the
-debts Nicholas had contracted; but for this, be it understood, he
-received scorn rather than gratitude.
-
-As a result of his evil ways Nicholas, in the early years of his
-marriage, had broken his wife's heart. Her patience had annoyed him,
-and, had she shown more spirit, her fate might have been a happier one.
-As it was, she had slipped out of life, mown down with grief as grass
-is mown with the scythe. And Nicholas had made scant pretence of
-regretting her, just as he made scant pretence of approving his son.
-Simon had early betrayed a lack of zest for life--a trait his father
-could ill tolerate. Therefore, with taunts and gibes, he had made
-Simon's life miserable through boyhood and early manhood. At first, it
-may be, he thought by this method to kindle some spirit in the lad, but
-failing to strike a spark--for Simon remained through all pale and
-silent, a human riddle to the father,--Nicholas had continued his jeers
-for sheer malicious joy in the practice. Even now his wit kindled at
-the thought of Simon, and sure of an appreciative listener, he would
-make clever satirical remarks about him to his niece, Julia Burgdorf,
-whenever she put in an appearance. And Julia would match these
-sallies. To this joking Rachel, in a storm of anger, had endeavoured
-to put a stop. Now when the pair exchanged their witticisms, it was
-out of her hearing.
-
-Though this old man bore not the slightest resemblance to old David,
-his age and animation endeared him to Rachel. Then he had once helped
-her grandfather, a thing she never forgot.
-
-Now his voice, which leaped constantly to a childish treble, reached
-her before she gained the stair's head. A stuttering of the words of
-his ditty, decided her to postpone her call. Owing to his excitable
-heart and his years, liquor was forbidden the old man. Resolving to
-take the housemaid sharply to task for giving Nicholas whiskey, Rachel
-descended the stairs. Through delicacy she never spoke to Simon of his
-own or his father's failing. When moved to disapproval of her husband,
-as she had been that morning, her only reproach was a look. A
-childhood passed among fishermen had taught her tolerance for this
-particular weakness.
-
-When Simon returned at lunch time, she was nowhere about and he was
-forced to sit down to the table without her. But she entered before he
-had finished the first course, and taking her place opposite him, began
-slowly unfastening her jacket. Wishing to please her, he launched into
-a description of St. Ives's _pyrometer_.
-
-"We melt up different alloys to get the different colour effects," he
-concluded, "and the colour and intensity of the light bear certain
-definite relations--"
-
-Rachel opened her eyes: "Then it's a success, is it?"
-
-Simon avoided her gaze. "Why yes, certainly. In fact," he added,
-"it's a very ingenious device. A trifling thing, you understand; but
-it is an instrument for which there is a definite need, and for that
-reason I should judge he might possibly be able to do something with
-it."
-
-Rachel nodded. "I see. Now Simon, I'll tell you what I've done; I've
-just been out and sent notes by messenger to Mr. St. Ives and his wife,
-and to Emily Short, asking them to come this afternoon and stay to
-dinner. Tell me, did I do right?"
-
-Without visible effect Simon had tried to shape her to more
-conventional standards. Rachel exhibited as much independence as
-before their marriage. Now he replied a little wearily:
-
-"Why of course, though I should have considered that the case scarcely
-required anything as complimentary, in a social sense, as an invitation
-to dinner."
-
-"And why not?" she flashed back hotly. "Though when it comes to that,
-I don't wish to compliment Emil St. Ives; I wish to _help_ him. Heaven
-knows, he's egotistic enough. But you don't realize," she pursued in a
-softer tone, "how helpless he is. He needs someone to advise him, or
-he'll spend himself in a thousand useless ways; someone to take an
-intelligent interest in him."
-
-"He has a wife, hasn't he?"
-
-"I said _intelligent_ interest."
-
-"But I assure you, my love," he began, "that I'm by no means the proper
-person--"
-
-However, before he left the house he had promised to return earlier
-than was his custom in order to further his wife's plan.
-
-In the course of the afternoon Rachel received a note from Emily Short
-explaining that she could not be present at the dinner. The note
-concluded: "You may remember Betty Holden. I think you were with me
-one evening when she came in. Poor child! Fortunately her baby never
-drew breath. She's to be taken this afternoon to Bellevue and I've
-promised to go with her. I shan't get away early for she's in a great
-taking and no wonder. The landlady at the place where she boarded
-threatened to put her into the street. Poor soft defenceless things,
-besieged both from within and without, there's small chance for the
-Betty Holdens." This news at any other time would have stirred Rachel,
-but now she had no time for reflection.
-
-Emil and his wife arrived promptly at five o'clock. Enlivened by hope,
-Annie was looking especially pretty. She had arrayed herself in a gown
-she had so far held in reserve, and had donned her rings which
-glistened like dew on her thin fingers. But Rachel gave small heed to
-Annie. She had counted on turning her over to Emily, telling herself
-that the toy-maker's companionship would benefit the lackadaisical
-girl. But now this plan was frustrated. Conducting her guests into
-the chamber which she had converted into a sitting room, Rachel
-established Annie in a corner and furnished her with several books of
-engraving. And thereafter, with undisguised eagerness, she gave her
-own attention to Emil.
-
-She had weathered a tempest.
-
-In youth the blood flows warm, and the unexpected meeting with her
-former friend when she was off guard, when she was excited by her first
-opera, had produced a storm. But the storm had passed, the last gleam
-of lightning and rumble of thunder had ceased and the air was clearer
-than before. So she was convinced. She denounced herself as an
-inflammable creature, and turned with renewed allegiance to her
-husband, dwelling desperately on her gratitude and esteem. Finally,
-sure of herself and luxuriating in a sense of renewed activity, she
-fancied she could serve Emil as simply as she would serve another
-friend. Nor did she see in the attempt Love in one of its
-multitudinous disguises.
-
-The room, which was long and shadowy, overlooked the Square. She led
-the way to a divan under a window and motioned Emil to a place at her
-side.
-
-"Now," she said, "I want to know just where you stand with your work?
-Tell me what you have done--what you intend doing--all," with an
-expansive gesture.
-
-He followed it closely; then glued his eyes to her fingers. For some
-reason he was displeased at this abrupt buckling to a subject that
-ordinarily would have received his ready endorsement.
-
-"But are there not other things to talk about--first?" he suggested.
-
-"Not of so much importance."
-
-"No?"
-
-"No."
-
-The gentle rebuke only incited his dominating nature: "But I should
-like to ask-- For one thing, you know you treated me shamefully,
-Rachel, when I left Pemoquod." He dropped his head to a level with
-hers. Into his voice had crept the old dangerous and caressing tone.
-
-Amazed at the double temerity of the use of her name and the allusion
-to the Past, she returned his look, flushing uncontrollably.
-
-"Why did you do that?" he pursued, enjoying her embarrassment.
-
-"I--I do not recall it," she said and flamed yet more to the lie. "And
-hereafter, please remember I am Mrs. Hart."
-
-She had a grip on the reins and he must heed the sharp tug, though he
-still chafed under the restraint like a restive horse. "And now we'll
-speak of another matter--your work;" she continued.
-
-"It's two years since we've seen each other," he remonstrated sulkily.
-
-"It's nearer three," she might have answered, but checked the words.
-Instead, severely: "You ought to have something to show for that length
-of time."
-
-"I have something."
-
-"So I supposed. Now tell me."
-
-And gradually with those arts known to woman, she subdued the quondam
-lover and roused the genius. Yielding to the flattery of her attitude,
-which was one of keen interest in his work, he was soon discoursing
-enthusiastically on the subject she had prescribed. A fish in the
-water or a bird in the air could not have been more at home than was he
-in her presence.
-
-Thus they talked till twilight fell and the maid came in to light the
-gas: and they were still deeply absorbed when Simon appeared.
-
-He stood for a space, his face a blur of white in the doorway; then he
-came forward into the circle of light.
-
-Instantly three heads were raised, Rachel's and Emil's abstractedly,
-Annie's with a distinct expression of relief. She had soon wearied of
-the books of engravings with which Rachel had thoughtfully supplied
-her, and the volumes were piled on the floor beside her chair; all save
-one, which she still held listlessly in her lap. She was pleased at
-the interest Mrs. Hart exhibited in her husband's work, for a word
-which she caught now and then, had convinced her of the topic of their
-conversation, and her jealousy had not been aroused. But she was weary
-and she now stood up with a pretty air of welcome for Simon.
-
-He shook hands with her cordially. Then crossing the room, he shook
-hands with the inventor.
-
-But Emil scarcely waited to answer his few studied words of greeting;
-instead, he settled himself immediately at Rachel's side, and rumpling
-his heavy mane with his fingers, he stared dreamily. "The next thing I
-completed was the _electrometer_," he said, and Simon noticed that
-Rachel wrote the word "electrometer" on a tablet she held on her knees.
-
-He returned to Annie and until dinner was announced, he talked to her
-in his low even tones.
-
-Dinner brought the party into no closer harmony. Rachel, with a
-carnation blazing in her hair and her dark intelligent eyes speaking
-more swiftly than her lips, still talked to Emil; and Simon, concealing
-every trace of annoyance if he felt any, devoted himself to Annie.
-After the meal, he even proposed playing to her on the pianola, and
-Rachel, knowing that he was very fond of performing on the instrument,
-allowed him to go through two pieces in his usual faithful uninspired
-manner. Then she approached him.
-
-"Come Simon," she said, laying hold of his hands. "You know why I
-asked them here," she added in an urgent whisper as he made no move to
-rise. "He is the inventor of all these instruments," and she displayed
-a list. "But he hasn't the remotest idea what steps to take in order
-to get the right people interested. Now can't you give him letters to
-different men, Simon? Come--you can think up some plan if you try!"
-
-Simon Hart had not the slightest interest in Alexander Emil St. Ives;
-moreover, in general, he was ignorant of the matters upon which the
-other required advice. However, he yielded; subsequently he was
-influenced to the point of going several times to visit the inventor;
-later, he organized The St. Ives and Hart Company of which he himself
-was the president. All this he did because of the imperious, and at
-the same time, pleading look in a pair of dark clear eyes.
-
-By the end of the year the house in Washington Square had undergone a
-change. This change had nothing to do with the renewing of bricks or
-mortar, or the altering of any outward feature; materially the
-residence remained the same. Never the less, it was now connected with
-a certain loft in John Street by a subtle, tenuous web. In this web,
-love,--unacknowledged, innocent, strong as death, thrown out from a
-woman's heart and returning ever to it,--was the solitary thread.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF A GENIUS
-
-As might have been foreseen, even after the formation of The St. Ives
-and Hart Company, the world continued in ignorance of Emil St. Ives. A
-few devices composed of shining brass, crystal, and wood occupied a
-modest amount of space in one of Simon Hart's shop windows, and
-occasionally men of science, attracted by their ingenuity, made
-inquiries about them; oftener than not, they returned to watch them in
-operation, again and yet again. But the great public took no interest
-and never made inquiries; the great public was interested in improved
-stove-handles and door-locks and the rescue of discarded tin cans, and
-gave not a thought to Emil St. Ives's little instruments.
-
-But in heaven, or more properly speaking, the world of complete
-objectivity which lies close about this and which only gifted minds
-prematurely penetrate, there was excitement after excitement, all
-produced by the childlike monster, Emil St. Ives. He had to his credit
-an instrument for recording colours in the atmosphere, another little
-instrument for recording the vibrations of the air occasioned by sound,
-and numerous temporarily useless devices which were calculated to
-delight those who came after him, but which were entirely unappreciated
-and unapprehended by the age in which he lived. None the less, his
-happiness was extreme.
-
-The John Street loft, to which he and Annie had removed on the first
-hint of improvement in his fortunes, was spacious; and here, under a
-sky-light which glistened beneath the sun in pleasant weather and was
-befogged by rain and snow when the weather was inclement, he lived and
-worked. He ate irregularly and slept little. When he slept, in order
-not to waste time he was in the habit of entrusting the problem upon
-which he was engaged to his subconscious mind. Then after a sleep of a
-few hours' duration, he would wake, and on first opening his large,
-speculative eyes, would oftener than not see in mid-air the completed
-instrument working perfectly.
-
-The loft, which chanced to be singularly habitable, was divided by
-partitions into four rooms. In order to be removed as far as possible
-from the sound of the pounding and drilling, Annie had taken up her
-abode in the rear room, which, besides the bay in the ceiling, had a
-large window looking upon a court. Below, in that scrap of earth, a
-maple tree had taken root and flourished to such a degree that its
-topmost branches came opposite the window. In the branches of the
-tree, a robin had built its nest. But Annie paid little attention to
-the tree or the robin. Though she wept less than in the past, she
-complained more; her lips drooped and her tongue had acquired
-sharpness. When with her hands resting on her slight hips, she
-remonstrated with Emil, her scolding sounded exactly like the chatter
-of an enraged bird; indeed, she looked more than ever like a bird.
-Though she occasionally might have managed to buy herself something
-new, Annie no longer troubled herself about her clothes. What was the
-use, she argued, since Alexander persisted in living in an attic; and
-in any case, was it not wiser to save every penny toward the rent,
-since he was so erratic in his methods of work, and insisted on making
-impractical things for which he used up all his salary? So Annie, a
-greater part of the time, lay on a sofa and sulked. In her inactivity,
-she was a contrast to Emil.
-
-The corner of the loft in which the inventor spent most of his time was
-furnished, in addition to a workbench, with a cot upon which he slept,
-a disreputable-looking chair in which he rested when he was not pacing
-the floor, second-hand bookcases in which he kept his inventions and
-his library, a basket for the monkey, and a three-legged stool upon
-which Ding Dong could perch himself when so minded.
-
-But Ding Dong, day or night, seldom had time to rest; and where he
-slept was a question; sometimes, without doubt, on a square of carpet
-outside his master's door. Willing, devoted, pathetic in his
-resemblance to a dumb brute, Ding Dong was an extra pair of hands and
-feet for Emil. He could scrub and sweep and make coffee, he could lift
-heavy machines in his sinewy arms, he could pack boxes and run errands;
-but he could not drill or hammer or saw with any accuracy. Though the
-field of his usefulness was limited, he was invaluable to the inventor.
-
-The atmosphere of unparalleled devotion which this humble creature
-threw around him was agreeable to Emil; and the same could be said of
-Annie's love. Whenever he observed it, his wife's faithful affection,
-contributing to his egotism, helped him to work the harder. And so
-again with Rachel Hart's intelligent and unwavering interest in his
-progress; her interest so stirred in him the creative impulse that he
-sped ahead like a fiery steed under the plaudits of the arena. On the
-whole, Emil received much from the people surrounding him; and yet, in
-the last analysis, their devotion was not essential to the "un-named,
-seeing, acting, produced being" that constituted his genius.
-
-When at work, in the depths of his eye lurked the consciousness of a
-world; but in his mouth and chin was something less perfect and more
-human; they looked as if they had been slighted by the sculptor who
-fashioned him. For the rest, an almost supernatural serenity marked
-his manner, despite the often convulsive manifestations of his energy.
-It was as if a god drove the chariot of his forces. If allowed to
-emerge gently from this state, he was unfailingly good natured; but if
-broken in upon abruptly, "care, genius, and hell" distorted and
-illuminated his face. Pausing on the threshold of that narrow gateway
-between the world of thought and the world of materiality, Emil St.
-Ives was a demon. Annie, bent upon some trifling business of her own,
-had one day ventured so to interrupt him; the offence had never been
-repeated.
-
-As has been hinted, conscience played no part in him. For Annie, for
-Ding Dong, even for his employers, when the mood for work was upon him,
-Emil showed not the slightest consideration. Nor was Rachel, in this
-respect, an exception. Whatever his attitude was toward her--and he
-bore himself in her presence at moments with a strange humility, at
-other times with an ill-concealed turbulent admiration that threatened
-to break all bounds--her influence at this period had well defined
-limits. His mother alone had uninterrupted power over him. At a word
-from her, even though he were on the eve of inspiration, he would drop
-everything to fulfil her slightest whim.
-
-Small wonder then that the mother adored him,--that she saw in him a
-gifted creature not to be approached by the common run of humanity. It
-had come to be Emil's custom to visit his mother at least once in a
-fortnight, and, from the moment that they met, those thin hands of hers
-had power in their caresses to transform him. Under their gentle
-touch, the fire of his mind dwindled, the warmth of his heart grew; the
-genius of a world was submerged in the son of a mother. And on Mrs.
-St. Ives their companionship had an opposite effect. Questioning him
-about his work, her brain in his presence acquiring something of the
-agility of youth, she lit herself at the flame that was in her son.
-
-Naturally the neglected Annie was jealous of this love. She never
-missed an opportunity to pick a quarrel with her husband on the subject
-of his devotion to his mother, but it was seldom she could provoke a
-retort. Emil bore her reproaches indifferently. One morning in May
-matters reached a decisive point.
-
-At midnight Emil was off, bound for the village that drew him like a
-magnet, and some hours later Annie sat over breakfast. She sat in one
-of the interior rooms, which was fitted up with a gas-stove and a few
-household necessities. Being left by herself frightened Annie. The
-janitress of the building, a good motherly soul, had orders to look out
-for her in Emil's absence; but the woman had gone about her duties some
-time earlier. Now, except for Ding Dong and the little chattering
-monkey, Annie was alone. Ding Dong, who had taken upon himself the
-duties of cook in this establishment, tried to tempt her with choice
-bits of food and Lulu made constant timid advances toward her
-friendship; Annie would look at neither of them. She saw in them a
-summing-up of the unusual, wretched and ridiculous situation.
-
-Now tears rolled down her face. Why had she left home? Why had she
-married Alexander? This was the constant refrain that beat in her
-brain. All things considered, the imperturbable inventor could
-scarcely have chosen a more unlucky moment to appear. The door opened
-and there he stood.
-
-Smiling, he entered the room, and at the account he gave of his
-movements, Annie's eyes gleamed with anger and the muscles of one cheek
-twitched.
-
-"Well," he explained, tossing aside his hat, "Mother was all right. I
-saw her through the window, and then I managed to get the next train
-back. You see, it was raining when I got in this morning," he went on,
-"and had I let Mother know I was there, she'd have been out to meet me,
-if she got her death for it. So I took only a look at her. There she
-was with the tiresome brats tumbling all over her, enough to wear her
-out, but she looked as cheerful as could be. Only six o'clock, and the
-whole lot of them waiting for breakfast! By Jove, but Edgar's family
-get up betimes! it's part of his confounded thrift. Breakfast and
-lunch at one sitting is more to my mind," and Emil approached the table
-to pour himself a cup of coffee.
-
-But Annie was quicker. Seizing the coffee-pot, she held it behind her
-at imminent risk of spilling the contents.
-
-"No, you shan't have it," she cried. "I'm sick of your performances,
-and I'll not put up with them. You say you went to your brother's? If
-you did, why didn't you go in openly? Edgar's not a wolf, I suppose.
-From all you tell me, he lives decently in a house, which is more than
-we do; and they have nice things. He's a wealthy man and your meeting
-might have led to something--instead of that, you take an expensive
-trip, just for the sake of peeping through a window at your mother,
-when you saw her only a few days ago. And then you come back here,
-thinking only of her, always of her--and you expect to go on eating and
-drinking--"
-
-Emil viewed his wife in troubled astonishment:
-
-"And why shouldn't I eat and drink?"
-
-"At my expense;" she finished; "for you owe everything to me. If it
-hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have even what you've got. And now
-when I've nothing more to give--" Dashing the coffee-pot on the table
-and huddling her hands over her face, Annie escaped from the room.
-
-For a few minutes Emil remained without stirring. The look of
-amazement in his peculiar eyes was succeeded by a slight darkening of
-his whole face. But he was never actually reached by Annie's flashes
-of anger. They seemed to him like little storms taking place at a
-great distance. Now with a shrug of the shoulders he began tranquilly
-to eat his breakfast.
-
-He could not remain insensible to his brother's continued antipathy;
-therefore, that he might not be reminded of it, he never put himself in
-the way of seeing Edgar. What would have been the use? Between the
-now flourishing merchant and himself, there was even less in common
-than formerly. They would not have found a word to say to each other.
-And his mother, who had at first sought feverishly to bring about a
-reconciliation between them, now did all she could to prevent their
-meeting. Had not Edgar told her that he would never receive him, Emil?
-Had he not warned her that if she tried to foist Emil's presence upon
-him, he would insult him to his face?
-
-At times Emil was tempted to urge his mother to leave his brother's
-house and cast in her lot with his own, but remembering his
-uncomfortable quarters and the openly hostile Annie, he was driven to
-silence. The one thing that consoled him was the thought that at least
-his mother was comfortably housed where she was; at least she was happy
-in her grandchildren. So the pair, kept apart by poverty, continued to
-meet like lovers. Anything prettier than the eagerness with which the
-little old woman went to a rendezvous with her favourite son, it would
-be impossible to imagine. In vain, actuated by a wish to torment her,
-Edgar's wife and even the children, put obstacles in the way of the
-meetings. Now it was a jacket to be mended which was brought to Mrs.
-St. Ives at the exact moment of her setting forth; it was a sheet to be
-hemmed, or a stocking to be darned. With every faculty alert, she
-always circumvented her annoyers, never failing to meet Emil at the
-appointed spot. This slyness, which is a part of love, brought back
-her youth.
-
-Had the conditions of her own life been other than just what they were,
-Annie might have found in Mrs. St. Ives a staunch friend. Now she
-hated her mother-in-law.
-
-For a time after her angry outburst, she lay face downward upon the
-bed. But presently, having wept herself into a repentant mood, she was
-all for running to Emil and putting up her tear-stained face for a
-kiss. In fancy she pictured him still sitting discomfited; and,
-trembling with a desire to make peace, she slipped into the passageway.
-But Emil had quitted the scene of the breakfast, and a glance at the
-table revealed the fact that he had eaten his fill. Annie passed on to
-his workroom and, at what she saw through the door, rage, bitter and
-stifling, once more filled her breast.
-
-Annie had never said a word to Rachel of Emil's constant shortcomings
-in relation to his company; "But I'll tell her now, I will tell her!"
-she whispered. She was convinced that Rachel's belief in Emil could
-not be shaken; therefore she would gratify her desire to expose his
-faults without further result than putting him to shame. So she
-argued. But as usual, where her husband was concerned, she reasoned
-wildly. As sensibly expect a bird of the air to drop its eyes in
-acknowledgement of a fault, as expect the inventor to show
-embarrassment for what he had done amiss or failed to do at all.
-
-As it chanced Rachel put in an appearance that afternoon and Annie flew
-to her. She caught the other by the hand and drew her into her own
-room. Then she subsided on the sofa and burst into tears.
-
-"What is it, Annie?" Rachel asked. She had never been greatly drawn to
-Annie, perhaps for some reason she would have died rather than admit.
-
-Annie was nettled.
-
-"Nothing's the matter. Did you bring any message from Mr. Hart?" she
-asked, drying her eyes with an assumption of dignity.
-
-"Yes; the telephone at the shop is out of order, and I told him I'd
-come round and deliver this note. See here, Annie," Rachel interrupted
-herself, "tell me what's bothering you."
-
-"Oh--it's just Alexander!" returned Annie, and without more persuasion
-unburdened herself. "You see what my life is here?" she wailed. "And
-we might live so differently if Alexander wished--if he cared--if he
-even did the things he ought to do in connection with the Company; if
-he wasn't a fool, in short. Now take that _radiometer_," she went on,
-"you know as well as I do that it's considered wonderful. Well, only
-yesterday, your husband sent someone from Columbia University to
-inspect it; the college thought of getting one. Emil was out, so I
-showed the gentleman the old model, for the new one isn't done, and I
-was just thinking what we'd make on the sale, when in comes Alexander.
-'Oh, that's trash!' he cries. 'That ought to go in the junk heap!
-Don't take that; I have something else on hand that will put that in
-the shade completely.' So," she finished in a tone between tragedy and
-disgust, "the sale was ruined. And if that kind of thing has happened
-once, it's happened dozens of times."
-
-"But the college will get the instrument eventually?" Rachel asked;
-and, as she looked at Annie, in spite of her sympathy, she was
-conscious of an inclination to laugh.
-
-"Possibly, but we'll likely as not be dead, for Alexander goes on
-perfecting a thing and perfecting it and the people can wait an
-eternity and he doesn't care. Sometimes," she concluded, "I'm tempted
-to give it all up."
-
-As she reviewed the situation, Rachel also for the moment was forced
-into depression. Similar complaints reached her from every side.
-Scarcely a day passed when Simon was not moved to anger by some
-shortcoming on the part of the inventor. Now it was his failure to be
-on hand at a critical moment to sign necessary papers; again it was his
-mysterious disappearance from the city. In fact, his unbusiness-like
-methods placed the struggling company in many an embarrassing
-situation. More than once Simon had threatened to withdraw from the
-enterprise and it was only her own persuasions that restrained him.
-His faith in the inventor, never of the strongest, was clearly on the
-wane.
-
-"And you mustn't think it's just one thing," resumed Annie, putting
-renewed pathos in her voice, "it's a whole succession of things. Take
-that Washington matter. You never heard the rights of that, I'll be
-bound. And I'm going to tell you. You remember, don't you, that time
-a month or two ago when the Government showed such interest in that
-_colour wave_ device, and the Company were so encouraged? Well, your
-husband thought it would be a good plan for them to send Alexander to
-Washington instead of anyone else because Alexander could explain the
-thing eloquently. And he did explain it--to the wrong official. He
-went there, as I found out afterward from a letter, and demonstrated it
-to the wrong man. Then he returned home, blandly satisfied with
-himself, and of course nothing came of the matter on which the Company
-had built such hopes. But I never said a word to explain it; I was so
-ashamed."
-
-Looking at Annie's little woe-begone visage, Rachel burst out laughing.
-
-The other, however, stared at her angrily.
-
-"I don't see anything to laugh at. Alexander is enough to try the
-patience of a saint; and I guess if you were married to him, you'd know
-it."
-
-Rachel's mirth vanished and the colour flew over her face.
-
-After an uncomfortable pause, she took Annie's hand.
-
-"You look too much on the dark side, try to be patient awhile longer.
-Things may straighten themselves." She pressed Annie's fingers. "Now
-tell me, shall I slip this note under his door, or shall I hand it to
-him. It's important."
-
-"Oh, you needn't slip it under the door, you can just go right in and
-put it where he'll see it; the door will be open fast enough. A lot of
-good that special lock does," Annie finished in a burst of scorn. "Mr.
-Mudge thought we'd better have it put on to protect Alexander from
-dishonest people who come in and get him talking and then steal his
-ideas. But do you suppose he leaves the door closed? Not a bit of it.
-Why only yesterday he had the lock tied back with a string while he
-poured all he knew into the ear of a man from that screw company across
-the street. A word of flattery and he forgets everything."
-
-"Don't--don't tell me any more, please;" and as Rachel turned away
-smiles rippled over her face. Why could not Annie, Simon, Victor
-Mudge, everyone, see that the inventor lived in another world and hence
-was not amenable to the laws of this. Nodding to Annie, who refused to
-be won from her dejected mood, Rachel traversed the passageway, and
-paused at the door of Emil's eyrie.
-
-As Annie had pictured, the patent lock was out of commission and the
-door stood wide open. Placing her note on the corner of a desk where
-he could not fail to see it, Rachel lingered on the threshold. Had he
-observed her, she could not have remained, but he kept steadily forward
-with his work.
-
-It was a rich pleasure to note every detail of the room--the sagging
-couch, the shabby coat hanging against the wall, the table laden with
-dust, bottles and tobacco boxes, the long bench, on the lower shelf of
-which was ranged, with astonishing order, a multitude of tools. She
-drew a contented sigh.
-
-The sun poured through the skylight and twinkled on the brass-work of
-his darling inventions, enthroned behind the glass of an old bookcase.
-Even while he slept, they peered out at him, these children of his
-active brain. And in every corner some mechanism was revealed, some
-cunning, complicated thing of joints and prisms.
-
-Rachel completed her inventory, then her brows suddenly rose and her
-eyes with involuntary devotion fixed themselves upon Emil. It was as
-if she had saved him until the last for a closer inspection, like a
-little girl who reserves her chief treasure for a leisurely examination.
-
-Seated on a high stool, before a bench, he was at work, from his head
-covered with its thick mane, the eyes burning beneath like coals, down
-to his big feet, planted against a convenient shelf. These feet hinted
-at a force in him that urged him to make a rift in the wall of the
-Unknown.
-
-She remained for a long time motionless. Then with a smile,
-unfathomable in its freshness, its terror, its confusion, she turned
-away.
-
-
-There, rises a mountain peak--in silence, clouds, eternal snows! The
-sun beats on the snow and the sparkling snow responds to the light.
-There is the laboratory of genius!
-
-From the mountain roll downward, sometimes small streamlets, sometimes
-mighty rivers. These streamlets and rivers nourish the valley below
-and even the cities out on the plain, these rivers nourish the world.
-
-Yet the trees and shrubs at the base of the mountain suffer, for
-sometimes instead of refreshing streamlets, avalanches of snow come
-down. At such times the bushes and trees cling together; with their
-twisted branches and denuded roots, they whisper and moan execrations
-on the mountain.
-
-Close to the summit--in order to observe what is taking place
-there--its foot in the snow and its head in the clouds, pushes that
-imperturbable and daring little flower, the edelweiss.
-
-Rachel climbed close to heaven in order to have sight of her love.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-THE CONFESSION
-
-One June morning in the second year of the existence of The St. Ives
-and Hart Company, Emil entered his wife's room.
-
-In order to be in range of the draught from the window, Annie had
-pulled forward a couch. Clothed in a shabby wrapper, open at the neck,
-she was curled up languidly with her head on a cushion. Emil gazed at
-her while something like compunction blazed up in his eyes. He amazed
-her by sitting down by her side and drawing her to his breast. Holding
-her two tiny hands in one of his own, he caressed her hair and even
-drew a pitying finger over the prominent cords of her poor little
-throat. Then he strained her to him, sighing as if from a full heart.
-
-Annie burst into tears at this unexpected tenderness. Twisting herself
-around, she rested her cheek against his.
-
-"You--you leave me to myself all the time, Alexander," she sobbed, "and
-I've no one at all but you."
-
-"Yes, yes, I know," he responded mournfully.
-
-"And you don't talk to me about your work as you do to Mrs. Hart; and I
-could understand as well as she if you would take the trouble to
-explain to me."
-
-"Well, don't cry, little kitten," he said, "I've come to explain
-something to you now and I hope it will please you."
-
-"How please me?" she asked.
-
-"Well, I have an idea at last which I think will strike your fancy. I
-mean it's practical," he explained, "--has commercial possibilities."
-
-"Are you sure?" she demanded doubtfully: "you aren't a very good judge,
-you know."
-
-"Never the less, I can't help knowing that anything in the line of a
-novel improvement of a musical instrument like the organ,--in fact, an
-innovation,--in these days is almost certain to succeed."
-
-"Oh, Alexander, tell me! Tell me what you have in mind!" and raising
-her head from his shoulder she laid hold of his hand.
-
-"What an excitable little creature it is," he said tenderly. "Well,
-it's a scheme for increasing the capacity for emotional expression in
-an organ. I shall manage to combine the vibrations of strings with
-those of pipes by incorporating in the organ a complete piano action.
-Do you understand?"
-
-She nodded.
-
-He laughed. "A pile you do! I shall combine them in such a way, that
-by a separate keyboard the strings can be used for piano accompaniment,
-and also can be coupled with the organ keys so that when they are
-depressed, the corresponding dampers in the piano are lifted from the
-strings to admit of their free sympathetic vibration."
-
-"Oh!" said Annie, on a long breath. "And you think it might mean a big
-thing?"
-
-"In a commercial sense, yes; in fact I think it's about certain to be
-popular. But in order to carry out the scheme I shall have to have
-every chance for experimenting, you know," and he looked pleadingly
-into her face.
-
-"Of course;" she agreed, "but this place suits you, Alexander--you
-always said that it did?"
-
-"Yes, the place is all right," he answered, hesitating, "but I need an
-instrument, you see. So I--I've bought one," he added softly.
-
-"Not a pipe organ, Alexander?"
-
-He nodded. "A second-hand one, very small, naturally, only two
-manuals. But even so, I shall have to pull out one of the partitions
-before it can be set up."
-
-"How much did it cost?" she cried, and her eyes and her mouth assumed
-the appearance in her countenance of three little round holes of horror.
-
-"Well, by paying cash for it to the church committee who put it up at
-auction," he said in a low voice, "I got it for eight hundred dollars."
-
-At these words Annie crossed to the further side of the room and
-dropping into a chair, leaned her forehead against the wall.
-
-Alexander looked at her with miserable eyes. Her action was a thousand
-times more disquieting than the volley of reproaches he had expected.
-
-"They've come now, I think," he said after a pause. "They're going to
-hoist part of it up from the outside, and I hear them on the roof.
-Don't feel that way about it," he implored. "The scheme really is a
-good one, Annie, and I'll make a success of it, I promise you. I'll
-get the eight hundred dollars back and any amount besides."
-
-But Annie continued motionless and he approached her chair. "I suppose
-it does seem like a lot for us to put into it," he continued with
-unwonted tenderness, "but it was a tempting bargain and as I couldn't
-develop my scheme without it-- See here," he interrupted himself,
-"haven't you told me often enough that I ought to invent something that
-would prove to be a success; that I ought to do it to justify the
-Company's belief in me, and especially Mrs. Hart's belief?"
-
-Then Annie turned on him. She even rose from her chair, the back of
-which she grasped with a shaking hand. "And it's to justify _her_
-belief in you, is it? that you spent all that we'd managed to save?
-Very thoughtful, I am sure. _Her_ interest indeed! I wish you'd never
-seen her. I hate her, I do, I hate her!"
-
-"Annie!" he exclaimed, for her little visage was twisted out of all
-semblance to itself.
-
-"I do, I hate her!" she repeated. "As for buying that organ because
-you needed it, don't you suppose I know you've always hung around organ
-lofts and even followed hurdy-gurdies on the street? You bought the
-organ because you wanted it. Alexander, you--you leave me!" she
-finished hysterically.
-
-Abashed, Emil stared at her; then relieved at this outburst, which was
-what he had looked for, he went to superintend the installing of his
-luckless possession. Since concluding the purchase of the organ the
-wisdom of the step had appeared dubious to his unpractical mind. Now,
-had it been possible for him to transfer the burden of ownership, he
-would gladly have transferred it. But the organ, to another, would
-have been an undesirable acquisition. It was wheezy of tone and sadly
-out of order, but this very condition was what had recommended it to
-him, and he looked forward with exultant joy to restoring it to a sense
-of perfection.
-
-As no retreat was possible, between ruefulness and pride he lifted the
-blue and gold pipes from the long coffin-shaped box in which they had
-been packed. Other parts of the organ, being less liable to damage,
-were hoisted through the window.
-
-When Annie emerged half an hour later, dressed for the street, the
-passageway and the two workrooms presented a scene of indescribable
-confusion. Had she glanced in at the door of the larger room, she
-might have seen the uncouth monster minus the ornamental front it
-usually turned to an audience. But she looked neither to the right nor
-the left. Despite the warmth of the day she had a veil tied over her
-face. The only signs of her distress were the damp blotches in the
-material over the regions of mouth and eyes. She had decided to carry
-her story straight to Simon Hart.
-
-When Annie reached the house in Washington Square, Rachel was mounting
-the steps. Simon had only just returned for luncheon and Rachel
-conducted the visitor to his study, a cool dark room on the second
-floor, and then stood by to listen to what the other had to say.
-
-And Annie poured forth her tale. Perched on the extreme edge of a huge
-armchair, she was too carried away by her trouble to heed the presence
-of Rachel, and as she finished, Simon, with a look of annoyance, was
-about to express his sympathy when his wife laid her hand forcibly on
-his arm.
-
-"And why shouldn't he buy an organ?" she demanded, turning on Annie,
-and it was evident from the light in her eyes that she was angry. "You
-are insane to look at the matter as you do. Of course he had to have
-the organ," she declared. "May not an inventor be allowed the
-necessary materials for his work? And if the thing should prove a
-success, as he thinks it may, and as I can see that it may, even from
-Annie's hazy description, why then you two will be glad enough that he
-got the organ." And she glanced from one to the other triumphantly.
-
-"But, my dear," her husband interposed, "you heard what Mrs. St. Ives
-said; the whole point is that they are not in a position to afford it."
-
-"But the Company is," Rachel answered and looked him directly in the
-eyes. The next instant she was a prey to shame, bitter and scorching.
-
-With a glance of icy disapproval, he turned away from her, and she
-hurriedly crossed to a window and began nervously to remove the rings
-from her fingers.
-
-Not a day passed but she thus surprised herself. For the same emotion,
-ever new, ever unlooked for, ever commencing afresh, constantly tempted
-her into enthusiastic championship of Emil's cause. Far from wishing
-to disguise the feeling, however, now that she herself realized the
-force of it, Rachel had often desired to speak of it to Simon; and only
-the fact that he definitely and obstinately avoided the subject kept
-her silent.
-
-As a result of Annie's visit, the complexion of affairs in John Street
-took a more favourable colour, while those in Washington Square assumed
-a more tragic hue. Annie, despite her bitter words about Rachel, was
-not actively jealous of her. Now she was comforted by Simon's
-sympathy, which she felt; for between these two unhappy souls there was
-a bond of shy understanding. Also, Rachel's ill-considered words
-produced a certain lightness in Annie and she concluded that they would
-not be allowed to suffer because of Emil's extravagance.
-
-Upon Rachel, the result of the interview was otherwise. Seldom had she
-experienced a more desperate mood than that which assailed her after
-Annie had quitted the house.
-
-More than once she went to Simon's study determined to speak her mind,
-but the door remained steadfastly closed against her.
-
-As it was Saturday, Simon did not return to the shop in the afternoon,
-nor did he emerge from the study at dinner time, and Theresa, with a
-sly rolling of the eye in her mistress's direction, prepared a tray for
-him. Simon always expressed his anger by an increase of coldness and
-silence and by shutting himself up in this way. "He's in there,"
-Rachel reflected, "thinking and drinking." And she preferred the
-liquor, the effect of which she had often noted, to his thoughts, the
-effect of which she could not calculate. Until a late hour she heard
-him walking backward and forward with irregular steps over the echoing
-floor, and it was after midnight when his door opened and he descended
-the stairs. This was an old-fashioned house with a cellar and there
-the wine was kept. It was to the cellar she knew he had gone.
-Determined to seize the opportunity of speaking to him, she threw a
-wrapper over her nightdress and hurried after him through the darkened
-house. He had turned on the light in the hanging electric bulb, and
-when she came upon him he was standing before a table on which was
-placed a case of wine. In all probability he had been drinking brandy
-and was finishing with claret. To her surprise, as if actuated by mere
-thirsty impatience, she saw him strike off the neck of a bottle. This
-action in a man of his fastidious habits was big with meaning. He
-lifted the bottle to his lips, his head flung back. He did not see her
-until she touched his arm.
-
-"Simon," she cried, "this can't go on!"
-
-Thinking she referred to the liquor, he set down the bottle and
-regarded her with an abashed and amazed look. His long face, without
-its usual mask, was fairly pitiful. Later he would not be able to
-forgive her for surprising him in this way. But she was bent solely on
-making her confession.
-
-"Simon," she cried, laying hold of the sleeve of his coat, "I was wrong
-in what I said this afternoon. I own I was wrong; and I ask you to
-forgive me. But there should be no secrets between us and I have no
-wish to disguise anything. Simon"--and her eyes, usually serious and a
-little sulky, flew to his face and clung there brilliant with
-appeal--"you must know that my feeling for Mr. St. Ives existed before
-I ever knew you; it is a part of myself. I can't explain it; but it
-does you no wrong. And never could do you any wrong."
-
-During this explanation Simon had grown paler than was his wont.
-Pushing aside her hands and standing off from her, he had begun by
-drawing his fingers nervously through his fringe of hair; but as she
-proceeded, he became absolutely motionless and his face assumed the
-lines of a tragic mask.
-
-"I would not have things different even if I could," she went on; "I am
-content with you and you know it. But oh,"--and she threw, out both
-hands in a gesture exceedingly simple and genuine,--"please do not
-misconstrue what you cannot, perhaps, understand!"
-
-But at this point he interrupted her with a violent movement that threw
-the bottle of wine to the stone floor where the contents spilled in a
-red flood. "Once and for all," he cried, articulating the words with
-difficulty, "I want you to know that I will not listen to your
-analysis. I may deplore your interest in--in St. Ives--I do deplore
-it, but I do not wish to hear anything of it."
-
-He had put a special accent on the word _interest_ and Rachel once more
-closely examined his face. Was it possible that he purposely
-misconstrued the situation and chose to close his eyes to what he
-believed--or had he understood her? "For it is possible for a woman,
-as well as a man," she told herself vehemently, "to love two, and to
-love each differently." Gallant, courageous little heart! Thus did
-she disguise the truth even from herself.
-
-The wine pouring from the bottle had splashed the bedroom slippers of
-light felt which she had slipped over her bare feet. Now with a
-movement, wholly womanly, she bent and tried to remove the spots by
-rubbing them with her hand, while the loosened mass of her hair,
-dropping forward, half enveloped her like a veil.
-
-Simon's eyes gleamed, but he instantly averted his gaze.
-
-"What do you mean by coming down here?" he said harshly. "It is too
-damp for you. Go upstairs."
-
-Rachel lifted herself and made a trembling movement toward him. He
-tried to ignore her; then seizing her arm, from which the loose sleeve
-fell back, he pressed his lips to it once and pushed her from him. "Go
-upstairs;" he repeated in a voice which she scarcely recognized, and as
-he turned away she saw that tears were forcing themselves from beneath
-his tightly-closed lids and running down his convulsed face.
-
-His repulse of her had been so violent that the hand which she flung
-out to save herself was cut against the rough masonry of the wall. In
-silence she looked at the wound, and an infinite tenderness and pity
-replaced the stern and mournful expression on her face. Without a word
-she mounted the stairs.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-HOW IS IT POSSIBLE TO STOP LOVING
-
-For six weeks she kept steadfastly away from the place in John Street.
-When by herself, she would often clasp her hands very tightly and raise
-them above her head while sounds between sighs and sobs escaped from
-her breast. But from Simon she carefully concealed every sign of her
-misery. She strove to exhibit more interest in all that interested him.
-
-Julia Burgdorf dropped in one evening and finding them together at the
-pianola, pronounced them a model couple. Julia had come to offer them
-her country house on Long Island during her own absence in Europe that
-summer.
-
-"Gray Arches is a lonely, remote, romantic spot,--in fact, just the
-place for a pair of lovers like you two," she declared looking from one
-to the other with sarcastic amusement.
-
-The place, which consisted of a large house, gardener's cottage, and
-stables, had fallen but recently into her hands, she went on to
-explain, and she had learned through her agent that it was somewhat out
-of repair as it had not been occupied for three years.
-
-"You can understand, Simon, that I don't want to bother about putting
-it in shape this year," she concluded, "and as Mr. Gunther assures me
-that the house can be occupied as it stands, I shall count it a favour
-if you and Rachel will go and live in it as it is."
-
-But Simon had no wish to be under obligation to Julia, and the matter
-was settled by his agreeing to rent the place, an arrangement that
-nettled her. When she rose to go her cheeks were flushed.
-
-Rachel accompanied her to the hall and, as she was leaving, Julia
-turned and laid her hands on the other's shoulders.
-
-"You _are_ a model couple, aren't you?" she insisted, with an
-enigmatical smile in her handsome, dark, heavy-lidded eyes.
-
-This smile, which gave her face a resemblance to Simon's, caused the
-young wife to colour deeply.
-
-Rachel's confession produced no change in Simon's attitude toward her.
-He remained as attentive and considerate, and yet as restrained in his
-manner as before, with the difference that he now made a point of
-keeping her informed of Emil's progress. The new organ attachment
-promised so well that the Company were hopeful and the inventor was
-supplied with every facility for proceeding with his work. By
-vibrating the strings of a piano by means of electrical induction,
-rather than by striking them with hammers, a strange and ethereal
-result was obtained, and these tones combined with those of a pipe
-organ produced an effect absolutely novel in musical expression.
-
-As Rachel listened to Simon's attempted description of the complicated
-contrivance, she was obliged to bend her head over whatever work she
-held, to conceal the joyous expression of her face. Until Emil should
-justify the interest shown in him, she could not help feeling
-responsible, not alone to her husband but to all the other members of
-the Company which had been incorporated without sufficient capital.
-
-"St. Ives is even growing businesslike in his treatment of us," Simon
-remarked one morning in a voice from which he carefully excluded all
-trace of personal feeling. "He telephoned very early to say that he is
-called out of town by the illness of his mother. If he finds that her
-condition is serious, he may be gone some days. So I think, my dear,"
-he concluded, "you had better go round and see Mrs. St. Ives. It must
-be lonely for her there, and you might take her to drive."
-
-An hour later Rachel showed herself in John Street. Walking along the
-passage she glanced into Emil's workroom where the organ now occupied
-half the available space. It was deserted except for Lulu. Crouched
-on the window ledge, she was pensively cherishing a maple leaf someone
-had given her. She had removed the substance of the leaf from between
-the veins, now only its framework remained, and this she held closely
-to her breast. At Rachel's step she looked over her shoulder and an
-inscrutable sadness appeared in her little eyes.
-
-Rachel tapped at Annie's door, which was thrown open to her with
-startling suddenness. Annie was all ready for the street and a
-suit-case stood on the floor. The room exhibited the utmost confusion.
-
-"Where are you going?" Rachel cried.
-
-"To my father's. He's written me several times saying that I may come
-home if I'll leave Alexander; and I'm going to leave him and I'm never
-coming back either." A sob caught Annie's breath as she strove to
-button her glove.
-
-Rachel took the wrist and fastened the glove. "But you're not going to
-leave him now when he's in such trouble about his mother, are you?"
-
-"Yes I am. I offered to go with him this morning when he got word of
-her illness, but he wouldn't let me. He said I'd always been hateful
-about her and I shouldn't trouble her now she was dying. He insulted
-me;" and stooping, Annie picked up the suit-case. "Please let me
-pass," she said with dismal dignity. "You don't know what you're
-talking about when you advise me to stay with him. I'm no use to him,
-he shows that every day; and why shouldn't I live comfortable?
-Besides," she added, and she glanced about her apprehensively, "I'm
-afraid here."
-
-Hastening down the passageway, she entered Emil's workroom and pointed
-through the skylight:
-
-"They've been spying down here with a telescope ever since Alexander
-left early this morning to see what he's working on."
-
-The neighbouring office building was very tall and in one of the upper
-windows the round eye of a telescope was to be seen.
-
-"They manufacture organs themselves," Annie explained, "and first one
-and then another of them has been hanging around here for a long time.
-Now it's a fair-haired man with a pock-marked face and sometimes it's a
-little black Jew. They always have some excuse; but I've warned
-Alexander."
-
-"Why don't you cover up things?" Rachel interrupted her, and divesting
-the couch of its Bagdad covering, she threw it over the metal plate,
-strings and sounding-board of the piano which stood on the floor.
-
-Annie cast a glance over her shoulder. "You'd better cover up those
-wires that pass through the wall," she said, "they're connected with
-the battery and that's what they're crazy to find out about."
-
-Rachel adjusted the covering; then she ran after Annie, who had gained
-the outer door. She caught her by the shoulders and twitched her
-about. "But why didn't you do it yourself?" she cried. "What do you
-_mean_ by not doing it, you--you little coward? Your husband's a
-genius; but that's all you care!"
-
-Annie with difficulty rid herself of the other's grasp and backed off.
-"I don't care if he's a genius a thousand times over," she cried
-hysterically, "I guess he isn't the only one to be thought of! Oh, he
-had no right to leave me this way with the janitress and everyone
-gone!" Sobs rose in her throat.
-
-Turning to the door, she ran out upon the landing; but Rachel's voice,
-keyed to a pitch of indignation, pursued her.
-
-"You would leave this place all alone, would you? You are not even
-going to close the windows but leave everything open?"
-
-Annie made a helpless gesture as she descended the stairs. "It won't
-be alone; Ding Dong will be along in a few minutes and he'll attend to
-everything."
-
-Rachel remained staring after her for a moment; then, her eyes blazing
-with disdain, she closed the door. Pride kept her from bolting it.
-Returning to the workroom she sat down beside the bench and
-occasionally she glanced up at the telescope. Though she told herself
-that Annie had imagined the whole situation, she was relieved to find
-that the watcher had forsaken his post. As for the quarrel, it must
-have been of a more serious nature than usual. However, Annie would
-not remain away for any length of time.
-
-This was the noon hour and owing to a slight diminution in the roar of
-the city the ticking of a clock could be heard through the room. For a
-time Rachel's face wore the scornful look it had worn in Annie's
-presence, but gradually this expression gave place to undisguised
-enthusiasm. Taking the tools one by one into her hands, she examined
-them, wondering about their use. A radiometer on which Emil was
-engaged in making improvements, stood at her elbow; drawing this to her
-with both hands, she began patting it after the fashion of a mother
-caressing the head of a child. Finally she rested her hot cheek
-against the polished surface and closed her eyes. Lulu, who had been
-observing her intently from the loftiest pipe of the organ, crept to a
-position at her shoulder. There, crouched amid a clutter of tools and
-instruments, she continued to cherish the maple leaf. Had an observer
-been present, the two might have suggested to his mind a group by
-Albrecht Dürer; for the sentimental look in the face of the little
-animal was a droll reflection of the devotion in the face of the woman.
-Presently a tear stole down Rachel's cheek. She had just lifted her
-hand to brush it away when she heard a step in the passage. Thinking
-Ding Dong had come, she turned to the door; but a large light-haired
-man with a pock-marked face stood before her.
-
-Both started. The stranger instantly recovered himself.
-
-"Good afternoon, madam," he said, removing his hat with a flourish;
-"can you tell me if Mr. St. Ives is in?"
-
-Rachel stood up; one of her hands rested on the piano sounding-board.
-"No, he is not."
-
-"Mrs. St. Ives, then?"
-
-She made no reply.
-
-The man stared at her uneasily. "That is unfortunate," he said after a
-moment, as if she had replied to his question. "However, it doesn't
-matter," with a smile, showing two rows of strong yellow teeth; "I'm an
-expert mechanic and Mr. St. Ives asked me to step round and take a look
-at a model he's at work on. It's a piano attachment, and there's some
-ticklish point about which he wanted my advice. If you'll excuse me,"
-he added blandly, "that is the model just behind you, I think. I'll
-examine it and make my report to him."
-
-He advanced but Rachel did not alter her position. The colour had fled
-her cheek, but in her dark eyes a spark had kindled and this grew
-steadily larger. Until he was within a foot of her, she looked fixedly
-at the dirty tie that encircled his throat; then as his hand moved to
-twitch the drapery from the sounding-board, she suddenly lifted a
-glance in which there was a menacing fury.
-
-His arm dropped and a tremour passed over him similar to the quivering
-that agitates the hide of an animal unexpectedly checked in a spring.
-For a perceptible space, while the clock ticked monotonously through
-the quiet room, measuring off the silence, he stood with his chin
-thrust forward. Then an ugly expression crossed his face and the veins
-swelled in his forehead.
-
-"I don't want to touch a lady, of course," he said in an under voice,
-"but I came to examine that model and I'm going to examine it. As for
-you," and it was as if an oath spilled with the words, "you stand out
-of the way. Won't eh?" he exclaimed.
-
-He shot out a hand.
-
-But at that moment he was seized from behind by a pair of powerful
-arms. Fairly growling with rage, Ding Dong dragged the intruder to his
-knees and the two rolled on the floor. The confusion caused by the
-scuffle was terrific. Lulu, scudding to the top of the organ, uttered
-shriek after shriek as she grasped frantically at her breast with both
-hands. Skirting the heaving forms, Rachel fled down to the street.
-
-But one idea stood out in her mind. As it chanced, an officer was
-lounging near the doorway and she plucked his sleeve. "Go--go up
-there!" she cried, "St. Ives's workroom--a thief has just entered!"
-
-Before she had finished the officer was mounting the stairs.
-
-Her first impulse was to get into her carriage, which, with Peter on
-the box, was waiting beside the curb. Then reflecting that Ding Dong
-could not speak a word to the officer, she returned to the scene of the
-conflict.
-
-Attracted by the sight of the officer, men and boys, scenting
-excitement, flocked up the stairs from the other floors. When Rachel
-gained the door of the workroom the intruder was clearing the blood
-from his face, and the officer, who evidently had accepted a bribe, was
-swinging his club and ordering the onlookers to depart. Still perched
-on the organ, the monkey, to the delight of the spectators, continued
-to chatter with fright. Rachel looked at the officer.
-
-"Arrest that man. Why do you not arrest him?"
-
-The officer ceased smiling. "On what charge, madam? He says he came
-here to do some work; well, that's all right!"
-
-"He came here to steal the idea of an invention."
-
-"An idea? I've searched him without finding anything of the kind."
-
-At this fine piece of wit, the spectators, most of them beardless boys,
-snickered.
-
-"However, madam," the officer continued, "I'm willing to haul them both
-to the station if you say the word, and I take it you're willing to
-press the charge, that is, appear against him?"
-
-"No,--I shall not do that," she said, pausing between her words, for
-the light in which Simon would view the matter came to her. "Is there
-no other way?"
-
-"None that I ever heard of. If you want a man put in jail,--well, you
-have to appear and tell why you want it."
-
-
-She was in her carriage. Sinking into the corner, she ordered the man
-to drive home. "And Peter, perhaps you'd better hurry," she added
-after a moment. With that small portion of her brain which was not
-seething with anger and which persisted in considering that
-insignificant feature of the affair, it seemed to her that the man who
-had overtaken her and wished to question her, was in all likelihood a
-reporter.
-
-And when she reached home, in spite of her gloomy fury at the
-frustration of her act of vengeance, the small apprehension persisted.
-The newspaper man, when he learned of her identity from the bystanders,
-would of course appear to interview her; and however justifiable her
-action might be, she knew that Simon would not forgive her if any
-publicity were given the affair. To avert trouble, she decided to take
-the afternoon train to Julia Burgdorf's country house on Long Island.
-She had been there twice with Simon and a telegram to the woman in
-charge would be sufficient. Going to the telephone, she called up the
-shop; but Simon was absent, and she urged Victor Mudge to have a
-watchman sent to John Street. Then leaving a note for her husband, she
-started at once.
-
-It was late in the afternoon when she arrived at Gray Arches and the
-sun was nearing the horizon. After dinner, which was set out for her
-in a glass-enclosed corner of one of the arched porches that gave the
-house its name, she went to the beach.
-
-The ocean spread out before her with its salt, fresh scent; its
-vivifying breath blowing upon the beach, piled up little hillocks of
-sand. Sitting on the sand, propped up on both arms, Rachel steadfastly
-regarded the ocean and her mind returned to Emil. The next day, being
-Sunday, Simon would, no doubt, follow her. Perhaps he would have
-received further news of Emil's mother. If she died, how would Emil
-bear it? As he had no philosophy, a great grief might wreck him. And
-what could he hold to? Not Annie,--Annie was a broken reed;--not
-herself,--Simon would not permit it.
-
-Love was the powerful, mysterious, secret influence at work everywhere.
-Undermining, building up, overthrowing, replacing,--it was like a
-mighty sea penned in each fragile human breast. Locking her hands
-about her knees, Rachel watched the waves. And the waves approached,
-grew mighty, curled over, disappeared; approached, grew mighty, curled
-over, disappeared.
-
-It was about midnight when she rose.
-
-"No, no, it isn't necessary, and I cannot. I cannot!" she repeated,
-lifting her face to the stars which seemed to rain down upon her a
-beneficent and vital influence.
-
-She was awakened early the following morning by a tap at her door:
-"Madam, Mr. Hart is here. As soon as it is convenient, he would like
-to see you."
-
-Rachel hastily dressed herself. She believed she thoroughly knew her
-husband, but she was amazed at the expression of his face when she ran
-down the stairs. He was standing in the little glass-enclosed end of
-the porch, where breakfast was laid, and through the small panes she
-saw the flowers nodding brightly. He was looking toward the ocean
-without seeing it, his brows contracted, his clean-shaven jaw and cleft
-chin twitching slightly. In his hand he held a newspaper.
-
-She approached. Another woman might have tried the effect of a warm
-greeting, for it was a question whether, even in his present state, he
-would have been able to resist her. But Rachel scorned to make the
-attempt.
-
-"What is it, Simon?" she asked quietly.
-
-For answer, still with averted eyes, he handed her the paper.
-
-It was folded in such a manner as to exhibit an article surrounded by a
-blue line. The article was a short amusing account of the incident of
-the day before, and in it the frightened monkey and all the odd
-paraphernalia of the inventor's workshop played an important part.
-Barring the headline "Jeweller's Wife hastens to protect Invention of
-Young Genius," there was nothing even remotely offensive in it.
-
-"Well?" she remarked, after running her eye over the article; then she
-returned the paper.
-
-For answer he twisted it into a ball and flung it from him. "I will
-ask you to remember hereafter," he said, speaking so rapidly that he
-stammered, "the dignity of the name you bear. I do not relish having
-it exploited in this way."
-
-"But what else could I do, Simon? Should I have sat there calmly and
-allowed that man to steal Emil's idea?"
-
-"_Emil!_" he repeated, flushing with indignation. "Is the protection
-of that--that device of more importance to you than the protection of
-my dignity? You considered St. Ives, I grant that: that was to be
-expected. But you did not consider me."
-
-"I considered you all---Emil, the Company, you, everyone; and what I
-did was absolutely right, _absolutely_! I insist upon it."
-
-"For a lady your action was an unbecoming one," he declared icily.
-
-She gazed upon him with flashing eyes from under contorted brows.
-
-"You say this; you believe it? Very well then, misconstrue what I did
-if you choose, torture me, doubt me!" she began fiercely. But suddenly
-her thoughts of the evening before returned to her. Something
-oppressive filled her breast and rose in her throat.
-
-"But I do not doubt you," he said, checked by the intensity of anguish
-her features exhibited. He even put out his hand.
-
-But seizing her head in both hands, she pushed by him and rushed
-upstairs.
-
-Her door was not opened until the next morning; then Rachel, all wild
-and staring, threw it wide. A low fever had set in. Emily Short
-arrived with her fund of common sense and her knitting work (she was
-knitting comforters for her special charges among the children)--and
-stationed herself at the bedside.
-
-What surprised them all was Rachel's prostration which continued long
-after the fever had left her. Turning her face to the wall, she seldom
-spoke. When her husband entered the room, she looked at him sometimes
-entreatingly, sometimes pityingly; one day, drawing his head down on
-her breast, she wept over him. Then she put him gently from her, and
-for a long time after, lay like one dead.
-
-Often in the night, when Emily Short, thinking that at last she slept,
-bent over her, she discovered her lying rigid and still, with her face
-bathed in tears. One night in the third week of her illness, when
-Emily came to the bedside, Rachel looked up at her.
-
-"How is it possible--" she whispered.
-
-Emily bent lower, "How is what possible, dear?"
-
-In the silence of the room the words were breathed rather than spoken,
-"--to stop loving?"
-
-Emily gave a little start, she scratched her head with her crochet
-needle; then the work slipped to the floor and she hid her worn face.
-
-Rachel, folding her arms on her breast, stared with the dumb intensity
-of despair at the circle of light which flickered on the ceiling.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-LOVE BY THE SEA
-
-The road to Gray Arches runs for part of the way past smart summer
-cottages, but soon the spaces between the cottages grow longer, until
-the road, ambling on through that bright seaside country, suggests a
-string from which many beads are missing. In fact for quite five miles
-the road resembles a little empty, dust-coloured ribbon almost hidden
-in the lush marsh grass. But suddenly Gray Arches appears, the pendant
-of the ornament of which the railroad station is the clasp. However,
-the pendant is no match for the clasp; for the station fairly shines
-with paint whereas Gray Arches is as dull as a piece of old silver; the
-windows of the station gleam like imitation diamonds, whereas those of
-Gray Arches are the turbid green of clouded emeralds. None the less,
-the pendant is a handsome thing of princely value--a real mansion,
-though an ancient one in a sad state of neglect.
-
-Under a sky littered with huge cumulus clouds fleecy as cotton, the
-house, in its wide lawn, seemed asleep. But something besides the sea
-out there, running up in little rippling waves to kiss the curve of the
-sandy beach, for all the world like children clambering a mother's
-knees,--something besides the sea was astir. With his pale and
-somewhat stealthy look Simon appeared in the glass door. Then he
-stepped out on the gravel path, and with his dignified and careful
-tread, he began pacing up and down. Up and down beneath the luxuriant,
-low-hanging boughs of the evergreen trees that still wore their mantle
-of dew, he walked. Despite his deliberate movements, a half-concealed
-eagerness showed itself in his eyes as he glanced from time to time at
-an upper window shaded by a striped awning. Presently he paused and
-stooping, picked up a shell. Holding it delicately between his thumb
-and forefinger, Simon studied it as he would have studied a jewel. But
-the next moment he tossed it aside. One watching him would scarcely
-have judged that a singular happiness pervaded his meditations on this
-particular morning, for his thoughts were written in cipher on his long
-pale face. He had some news for Rachel and was anticipating her
-pleasure in it.
-
-Simon's jealousy of St. Ives was now at an end, or so he believed. He
-had never felt that Rachel really cared for Emil, and now he told
-himself with a sigh of thankfulness, that his hatred of the inventor no
-longer existed. During Rachel's illness, for which he looked upon
-himself as in a measure responsible, the agony of contrition he had
-experienced had obliterated the other torture. St. Ives he had never
-liked, nor did he like him now; but when he learned that the building
-in which Emil's workshops were located was to be extensively altered
-during the summer, and that these repairs would make it an
-inconvenient, if not an impossible place in which to carry on important
-work, he had acted at once.
-
-In his present state of mind it had been a simple, even a gratifying
-thing for him to arrange to have Emil and all that pertained to the
-organ attachment, transferred temporarily to the gardener's cottage on
-this country estate. This action, defining his own position as nothing
-else could, had brought with it an immeasurable sense of relief.
-Morbidly constituted as he was, his own position in the matter was of
-paramount importance to Simon, and so engrossed was he in this supposed
-release from jealousy that Emil and Annie figured as scarcely more than
-the necessary factors for carrying out a course of conduct he had
-outlined. That his mood was overstrained; that it was one of those
-misleading, reactionary impulses to which sensitive peaceful natures
-are particularly prone, he never suspected. For the sake of
-maintaining his present lofty attitude, Simon was capable of blinding
-himself for a time to anything that might again threaten his repose.
-
-By taking down a partition in the gardener's cottage, the organ had
-been installed, and Emil and Annie were living there now in great
-comfort. Filled with reproaches and recriminations, the visit which
-Annie had paid to her parents had been a mistake, but this the young
-girl did not acknowledge; nor did she confess that, despite her
-unhappiness with her husband, she was not able to live without him.
-When Mrs. St. Ives had recovered from the illness which had attacked
-her, Annie had rejoined Emil very simply; now in these new conditions
-she was even growing fresh and pretty. Simon, who had not been
-unmindful of the young wife when he decided to make the arrangement,
-could not help seeing that Annie was happier; and, for that matter,
-that Emil was happier, too. The inventor whistled shrilly over his
-work, and whenever he heard him, Simon was conscious of the expansive
-feeling that accompanies a generous action.
-
-Presently there was the grating of a wheeled chair passing over gravel.
-The chair had been left by a former occupant of the house and Emily had
-found it, covered with dust, in one of the chambers. Rachel's face was
-as wan as the face of a martyr in a medićval picture, though her cheeks
-caught a tinge from the pink "cloud" wrapped around her head. Her eyes
-under their slender brows, held the old vivid passionate look, and her
-mouth resembled a little bit of pale crumpled velvet in which gleamed,
-all at once, the fascinating white of her teeth.
-
-Simon approached; then, with a glance at Emily, he kissed his wife's
-little, white, blue-veined hand which dropped so supplely from its
-wrist.
-
-"Take me down the path," she commanded. "Oh, how heavenly this air
-is!--and the sea! Do you know, Simon, illness gives one a new pair of
-eyes?"
-
-Emily Short looked after the couple uneasily. She had said what she
-could to Simon to prevent his carrying out his absurd scheme relative
-to St. Ives; she had objected as strongly as she dared on various
-pretexts. But Simon, bent on making clear to Rachel how completely he
-renounced his former attitude toward the inventor, had turned a deaf
-ear. Now Emily imagined that he was announcing the step he had taken,
-for from where she stood, she saw Rachel lift her head with a swift,
-frightened air. Then it slowly sank as though a weight had forced it
-to her breast.
-
-Standing in the keen sunlight, a little, lean, homely figure with a
-worn face, Emily sighed. She herself had never known love, yet she
-sighed and knotted her fingers tightly together beneath her apron.
-
-It was evident that Rachel did not wish to go in the direction of the
-gardener's cottage, for they turned into another path. Half an hour
-later when she knew Simon had left his wife in order to catch his train
-for the city, Emily went in search of the invalid. She found her drawn
-up in the shelter of a small, half-ruinous summer-house overrun with
-vines which stood at one corner of the grounds. As Emily approached,
-she saw Rachel crane forward, with her hands gripping the arms of the
-wheeled chair. A wonderful unrestrained tenderness beamed in her face.
-
-Passing not twenty feet away and visible through the intricacies of the
-wall of leaves was Emil St. Ives. The stuff of his shirt rippled in
-the breeze and the material clung to his muscular shoulders; his hair
-was in a tousle, his lips, surrounded by their curling beard, emitted a
-gay shrillness of sound; he was whistling as a bird sings. Abruptly
-Rachel dropped back in the chair. Without looking at Emily, she
-signified a desire to return to the house.
-
-Emily pushed the chair into the sunlight and the little group crept up
-the path; while, all unconscious, Emil went leaping down the sands to
-bathe in the sea.
-
-During her illness, Rachel had been besieged by feverish thoughts. Not
-a phase of the situation but she had gone over innumerable times.
-Finally her resolution was taken: she would see Emil no more. The
-decision was an arduous one and she raged to make it. Love for one
-man, overmastering love, as Nature wills it, was in conflict with
-unswerving loyalty to another; and this latter feeling likewise had its
-roots in the very foundation of her character, so that her woman's
-heart had been for a season a disputed field, and the conflict had
-protracted her illness.
-
-But when she rose at last, pitiful tender, heroic,--all woman in that
-she dreamed she had immolated the feeling that threatened the peace of
-her husband--lo, the situation awaiting her put her plans to confusion.
-Her husband's unexpected move had made her course a difficult if not an
-impossible one.
-
-For more than three weeks by employing every stratagem, she succeeded
-in avoiding the inventor, and when the housemaid brought word, as she
-did on several occasions, that both Emil and Annie had come over to
-call on her, she pleaded weariness and refused to see them. But as her
-strength returned, this excuse failed, and she spent many hours with
-Emily, who had been persuaded to remain and carry on her trade of
-toy-making in an unused room of the house. Had Simon permitted it,
-Rachel would have returned to the city, but both her husband and the
-doctor opposed the move on the ground of her recent illness.
-
-It was a state of things which could not endure.
-
-One morning Emil came upon Rachel sitting on the sand. Worn out by her
-efforts to avoid him, beyond turning her face obstinately in the other
-direction, she made no attempt to escape.
-
-As he advanced he examined her with his laughing eyes. "So I've found
-you at last!" he cried joyously.
-
-After a moment, because there was nothing else to do, she turned her
-face to his.
-
-"But you're not much of an invalid, are you?" he cried an surprise, and
-seated himself not far off. "You look," he said, indicating the sea,
-"as strong as those waves."
-
-Hot blushes were uncommon with her, but now the unreasoning colour
-mounted full tide beneath her tanned skin. "Yes," she assented coldly,
-"I'm quite myself now;" and she began taking the sand into her hands
-and letting it trickle between her fingers.
-
-"Well, why haven't you been over to see my new workroom?" he demanded
-in a different tone, as he followed these movements. "You don't take
-much interest in your neighbours, it strikes me."
-
-She steadily regarded the sea. "So far I haven't done anything," she
-said in a low voice, and then added, as if the words were forced from
-her, "I shall go back to the city when the doctor will allow it."
-
-"What would be the sense of that?" he demanded in amazement. "Why it's
-fine here! Just the place for you. Is it possible you don't like it?"
-
-Rachel's lip curled slightly. "Where's Annie?" she asked after a
-moment's pause.
-
-Emil turned his head. "Why she's somewhere about; she came down on the
-beach a little while ago."
-
-"Won't you find her? I should like to see her."
-
-Nonplussed, he lifted himself from the sand. After staring about, he
-struck off in search of his wife. But when Annie appeared by his side,
-wrinkling up her face in the sunlight and holding out her hand, Rachel
-had little to say. Immediately afterward she left them.
-
-A few days later as she was crossing the lawn, Rachel met Emil and he
-accosted her. This time there was umbrage in his tone.
-
-"I say," he cried, and he placed himself directly in her path, "why
-don't you ever come over and let me show you that organ attachment? I
-can play for you now, in a sort of way; in fact I'm quite a musician."
-
-Again she avoided his look and attempted to put him off. "I have
-promised to drive over to the station this afternoon and meet Mr.
-Hart," she said, "but I will come--sometime."
-
-"But when?" he demanded, scowling at her, and his countenance was no
-longer good natured but fierce and aggressive. "You used to show some
-interest in my work, but now you withdraw it all of a sudden--just like
-a woman. And I tell you, I can't finish the thing without it," he
-concluded angrily. "I can't go on alone--you've accustomed me to
-something else."
-
-A shiver ran through her like that which takes a young bird that feels
-the air for the first time beneath its tentatively fluttering wings.
-Her impulse was to sail away in the atmosphere of love his crude
-unconscious confession breathed about her. She dared not raise her
-eyes because of the involuntary joy that filled them.
-
-"I'll come over this evening with Simon," she said, softly. And
-everything about himself and about herself she loved passionately.
-
-Life, by all of us, is felt vaguely to be a tapestry of which we see
-the under side. But now in a flash Rachel saw the pattern that Fate
-was weaving imperturbably; a pattern premeditated from the beginning;
-and well she knew that nothing she could do or he could do, could stay
-that weaving hand. Though no word of love was ever spoken, the design
-in all its beauty was complete, for words and acts are human lumber,
-unessential to the accomplishment of the spiritual miracle; present,
-they follow the design inaccurately; absent, the design is seen the
-clearer because of no gross accompaniment. And Rachel wondered if Emil
-saw at last what she saw; if he did not now, he would see,--he would!
-And neither was any more responsible for the fact that filled the world
-with new meaning than he was responsible for the fact of life. From
-these meditations she roused herself, emerging as from an enchanted
-mist.
-
-"I'll come over this evening with Simon," she repeated, and Emil, who
-had been staring at her, drew himself up and reluctantly accepted the
-promise.
-
-When he moved away from her, his face wore an expression of
-astonishment.
-
-As Ding Dong had gone to the city on an errand for Emil and did not
-return on the usual train in the evening, there was no one at the
-cottage to pump the organ, for Simon evidently considered it beneath
-his dignity to perform so menial a service. He sat in a rocking-chair
-near a window, and from time to time with a meditative eye, he scanned
-the walls of the room which were decorated with mottoes and lithographs
-in colours. He was estimating the probable cost of replacing the
-partition when Emil should have finished with the cottage.
-
-The inventor, restless and keenly disappointed, went again and again to
-the outer door, where he remained straining his eyes through the salty
-darkness, though there was no chance now that Ding Dong would appear
-until morning. Rachel sat by a little table turning over the leaves of
-a current magazine with her long fingers; she was impatient with her
-husband and whenever Emil entered the room, she looked at him, and her
-face between the loopings of her hair, had a faint, remote, mysterious
-smile.
-
-Annie issued from the kitchen and going up to Emil leaned against his
-shoulder, and he nonchalantly encircled her little figure. Instantly,
-Rachel grew hot all over with a violent jealousy such as she had never
-before experienced.
-
-All the way home while she walked by Simon's side and felt beneath her
-elbow his thin fingers supporting her, her hands beneath her cloak were
-pressed against her heart. Oh, the intensity of her love and the
-paleness of his! She had a picture of Life irrevocably linked to
-Death. With the vision came such a sense of desolation that, turning
-her face aside, she sobbed under her breath.
-
-The miracle was rapidly accomplishing; she was passing out of
-herself,--out of her scruples, her pity, her fears.
-
-
-She was wandering on the sands and knew not where she went, save that
-the need for movement was imperative. She had left Gray Arches far
-behind. What matter that from the dun-coloured clouds a slant of rain
-descended, straight and fine as the locks a princess engaged in combing
-her hair? Secretly, noiselessly, the rain touched the sands, save at
-intervals when a land breeze seized it; then these liquid tresses were
-torn and tangled into drifting masses as by the hand of a rude lover
-who violently seizes the locks of his mistress. And the rain hissed as
-it met the sands and ran away in little curling, twisting rivulets like
-serpents.
-
-Enjoying the caress of the moisture on her face, Rachel walked on. The
-vigour of her childhood was in her limbs, the spirit of it in her
-heart, and she remembered her old turbulent longing for freedom. But
-love was the supreme liberator. And in an ecstasy, she drew herself
-together and her craving for this supposed liberation of the spirit was
-so intense and penetrating, that she wavered uncertainly as if about to
-fall.
-
-At that instant, a voice, muffled by the falling of the rain and the
-soft plash of the waves on the beach, reached her. It came to her out
-of the distance; but the space that separated her from him who called
-was so great and the curtain of rain that divided them, at the moment,
-so dense, that she could not see him. Yet that voice in which no words
-were distinguishable, quickened and reanimated her. For an instant
-with her arms curved fearfully above her head, she looked back.
-
-A spot on that barren coast was growing larger, it was moving toward
-her; and all at once the breeze brought her the message above the wash
-of the waves.
-
-"W-a-i-t! W-a-i-t!"
-
-Emil was hallooing, he was calling to her with his hand to his lips.
-Suddenly he broke into a run, and the impulse of flight was
-communicated to her.
-
-With bated breath she sped before him, and she was conscious that he
-took up the chase after a momentary pause of amazement.
-
-Across those sands pitted by rain, once more the old race was run, the
-exciting elemental pursuit of woman by man. And as if in joy the waves
-lapped the beach with a sound of applause, and the rain, as if
-delighted at this return of happy antique life, now baffled and pelted
-and blinded the pair, and now, in a lull, revealed them each to the
-other.
-
-Rachel's hair, escaping its bonds, streamed behind her; her skirts
-impeded her movements; yet wildly, excitedly, across that expanse of
-sand, she ran. And the blood beat exultantly in her veins and she felt
-that the goal toward which she was making was that fugitive band of
-colour that persisted, despite the drifting mist, at the end of the
-beach. Through this uncertain band of colour, the sky, elsewhere dull
-and scattered with clouds, appeared to be smiling with huge, mobile,
-kindly lips. Ah, if she could but bathe in the light of that
-understanding smile which the sky cast over the beach! A piece of
-driftwood brought her precipitately to a halt, but instantly she was up
-and away like a sea-bird.
-
-He who followed with long strides was gaining on her, plainly he was
-gaining on her. With her skirts and her shorter stature, she was no
-match for him. Finally, with both hands clasped beneath her bosom, she
-sank to her knees. Her sight swam, she gasped for breath. They had
-traversed in this way a distance of a quarter of a mile. The only
-object in sight was an old fishing-boat, drawn up on the sands. On
-this boat her glance rested. The next moment she saw Emil. As he ran,
-something emanated from him.
-
-Instantly she was up; and straight and slim and fleet, she darted
-across his path and was into the old fishing boat. There was but one
-oar, and, as she pushed off, a burst of fresh laughter gurgled in her
-throat and illuminated her face. The tide, in tantalizing fashion,
-carried her beyond his reach and she saw him stop. Then his eyes,
-imperative and gleaming, like two fierce lights, sought hers. After
-that look he waded into the water; then swam.
-
-Two or three strokes and he was beside the skiff. When he grasped its
-edge with his dripping fingers, that shone out white and strong in the
-steadily increasing light, Rachel laid hold of his clothing.
-
-Their heads were on a level--they exchanged a look.
-
-Wild, flashing, dominating, it leapt from his face, all pale and
-streaming with water, to hers; and all the secret of her woman's heart
-mounted to her eyes; they were no longer mysterious, but frank as
-daylight, revealing.
-
-The sun which, like a curious watcher, had cleared the cloud-bank, beat
-upon the sea in joyous fashion, and the waves beat upon the sand; and
-all along the beach and in the air and in the waters under the boat,
-there was a murmur as if Nature, the great mother, sighed in the
-fulness of her content.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-THE INSISTENT PAST
-
-As in death there takes place a loosening, a lifting, a withdrawing of
-the spiritual part, so, too, in love. The soul, made daring through
-love, seeks to support a separate existence; but the attempt is
-pitiful, doomed to frustration; for clamorous and insistent, the
-ordinary conditions of life make themselves felt. The descent in
-Rachel's case to the normal state, wherein duties and scruples play
-their part, was realized at the moment Emil climbed into the boat.
-
-Before starting for the beach she had put on her head a travelling cap
-that belonged to Simon. It had been almost made way with by the wind;
-but, still held by its long pin, it had slipped to her shoulders with
-the mass of her hair. Now, with the oscillation of the skiff caused by
-Emil's movements as he drew himself from the water, the cap dropped to
-the seat beside her, and thence was carried by a puff of wind to the
-floor of the boat. Not a garment of Simon's but closely resembled him;
-this cap of hunter's green with a tiny stripe of red in the flannel,
-was instinct with his personality. As it lay before her, Rachel
-shuddered and the expression that filled her eyes kept Emil from any
-indiscretion into which the situation might otherwise have betrayed
-him. Before the mute appeal of her look he was powerless.
-
-She crouched in the end of the boat and with a motion of the hand
-indicated that he was to put back to the land. Before obeying, he
-wrung the water from the sleeves of his coat. He was trembling and as
-she perceived the power of his love, perceived the amazing and
-terrifying force leaping out upon her from under his scowling brows,--a
-sudden pity took her; and she dared not look upon him because of that
-tenderness which is more disarming to a woman than her fear.
-
-"Well, that was a race!" he remarked unsteadily. "Are you tired?"
-
-"Not very--a little."
-
-"I'll row you home."
-
-"With one oar?"
-
-"There's another on the beach that you didn't see."
-
-"I didn't take the time to look."
-
-As the boat had drifted with the tide, the return to the shore was
-accomplished with difficulty. When he was once more seated opposite
-her, rowing with even strokes, he noticed that she shivered and a
-gentleness softened his face.
-
-"You are very cold, aren't you?"
-
-"The air has changed."
-
-"Here, take my coat; it's soaking, but your dress is soaking too."
-
-"It's--very heavy. I don't see how you ever swam in it; it's weighted
-down,--" and from the pockets she drew forth first a coil of wire, then
-a wrench, then several drills.
-
-He watched her and delight shone in his face.
-
-"I could have swum the Atlantic in armour to reach you. Do you know,
-you look like a mermaid with your hair hanging down that way." He was
-laughing now and the old lazy fondness sounded in his voice. Leaning
-toward her he rested on the oars. "Rachel, why did you run away from
-me like that?" he asked, smiling confidentially, and suddenly one of
-his hands went out to hers.
-
-She drew back and for a moment enveloped herself in taciturnity, but
-all at once, as if compelled, she brought a defiant glance around to
-meet his.
-
-"Why because you started to run--and I ran, too."
-
-"Well, it's useless; you can never elude me again. Do you know," he
-continued, "it seems to me that this crazy race has been going on ever
-since the first time I saw you in the mist? Do you remember the day?
-You were perched on a rock, I recollect, and the cow--you were leading
-a cow--pushed up behind you in such a way that her horns curved up
-about your feet for all the world like a little crescent moon. I swear
-it had that look. Lord, but you made a picture! Do you remember the
-day?"
-
-"Yes, I remember the time, but I didn't know I looked like that."
-
-She opened her eyes very wide and her lips parted with the movement of
-an expanding flower. Vanity kindled in her face as light kindles in a
-jewel. There is in a woman's inner nature a sensitive something that
-constitutes the very essence of her charm, that informs her physical
-features with vivacity, with seduction. The craving to have this
-secret attribute recognized, causes her to discover in every compliment
-a spiritual significance; causes her to wrap herself in its fancied
-meaning, as in a shawl; causes her to live in it, breathe it in--in
-short to discover in it an atmosphere of inspiration in which she
-manages to exist for the briefest fraction of time. Indeed, the
-longing for the caress of words addressed to her very soul, is as
-natural to an imaginative and ardent woman, as the longing for the
-caress of light is to a flower. And with Rachel, as with many another
-young girl of New England traditions, the craving had never been
-gratified. Now Emil's praise of her was so alluring that she was
-trapped into listening; had he paused for a word, involuntarily she
-would have supplied it.
-
-But he required no urging to finish his speech which dropped from his
-lips with all the precipitancy of fruit from an overladen branch.
-
-"You were just like a figure from some church altar," he told her
-fervently. "Your dress was blue, and the fog rolled about you in
-clouds. All the same, you know, your expression wasn't exactly
-saintly; it was too--"
-
-"Too what?" she whispered.
-
-"Well, just what it is now," and with that he looked at her until she
-was obliged to avert her eyes.
-
-"I mean that your face is very innocent," he explained, "and at the
-same time, it is all alive with--well, with a sort of curiosity. But
-to-day you were Diana of the Chase with your skirts all ruffling around
-your feet and blowing to the side in folds. However I'm not up in
-mythology; all I know is, my own, you'll never succeed in fencing
-yourself off from me again. But don't look at me like that!" And with
-an indefinable glance at her as she sat, suddenly converted to
-sternness, he took up the oars.
-
-She observed complete silence, and for some moments all that was heard
-about them was the ripple of the water as it met the sides of the boat.
-The waves like a lover approached the boat, touching it lightly,
-tentatively and timidly caressing it with eager lips. But occasionally
-waves larger than the rest seized the skiff and upbore it as in the
-powerful embrace of arms, dipped and sank with it; while a sound of
-multiplied kisses ran over the surface of the glancing ocean, which was
-tremulous as a breast heaving with love. And the influence of that
-universal caress mounted to the air, which was like a stinging breath
-crossed with tears of spray; even reached the low-stooping western
-heavens where sailed largely great cloud masses, like huge embarrassed
-lovers, that never the less, with a sudden darting of colour along
-their edges, strange and fiery smiles, approached--melted softly and
-completely into one.
-
-The sea was a theatre and the play enacted on that broad expanse, in
-the swiftly falling twilight, for the bewilderment of that pair of
-human mites,--the play was Love. For Nature, the great scene shifter,
-who causes the mists to rise above swamps that she may bring about the
-love and mating of midges, is the artist incomparable when she sets out
-to glamour and bend to her will the least significant of these
-struggling, valiant creatures called men, these creatures that dare,
-with a law opposed to hers, to defy her.
-
-Rachel had crept to the extreme end of the skiff and when the water
-rose to the edge it often dashed across her knees. Her head was flung
-back, but for all that, she saw nothing. She was holding her emotions
-well in leash and the effort drew from her now and then a sigh. Where
-the fingers of one hand met the back of the other, for she had them
-tight clasped, there were white marks on the flesh. She sat before him
-with the impassive countenance of an image, though internally she was
-consumed with flames.
-
-Time passed imperceptibly, but all at once she pointed to the shore.
-
-"Emil," she said, in a muffled voice, "there's Gray Arches among the
-trees. The lamps are lighted. Make haste."
-
-He had been doubling on his course, and, unnoticed by her, even
-striking out to sea, with the object of delaying the moment of landing.
-Now the dusk, which had descended insidiously, was close about them.
-
-At her words, he headed the boat for the shore. But after an instant
-he leaned forward. "Before I take you in, I want you to tell me when
-I'm to see you again."
-
-She drew herself up: "I don't know when you'll see me--never, I think."
-She spoke in a throbbing, suppressed way, exactly as if she were
-forcing back from the edge of her lips and to the depths of her heart,
-some secret. "There is the pier; don't you see it?"
-
-The young man nodded. "Yes, I see it all right. Rachel, I'm going to
-Barbieri Brothers to-morrow to see how that marble-cutting device of
-mine works. Come there in the afternoon and see the machine with me,
-won't you?"
-
-She shook her head.
-
-"Very well then," and he began paddling out to sea.
-
-"You think you'll frighten me or annoy me," she cried, moved to scorn,
-"but you won't succeed. I can swim as well as you."
-
-He laughed and the boat, quivering in a bewildered sort of way, once
-more approached the land, noisily cleaving the water.
-
-"Rachel, you'll come and see that machine, won't you? I'll never ask
-you again. But it's an interesting thing, really it is, and they're
-cutting the figures for the Century Library with it. Can't you
-understand that I'd like to have you see my work? It isn't much that I
-ask, and you can get the five o'clock train out here if you like.
-Promise me you'll come."
-
-Through the gloom on the pier she saw a lonely figure intent on the
-antics of the boat. She looked at Emil and the impulse of her
-tenderness carried her beyond the barrier imposed by her will. In one
-instant she had passed beyond the outworks of her usual self. When she
-answered him in low, vibrant tones, it was a message, if he had but
-understood, from the very depths of her heart:
-
-"Yes, I'll come--you've no business to ask me, and I've no business to
-promise; I'll come, but there must be no more of this; it's ended."
-These words were at once an appeal and a command.
-
-But Emil, ignoring the nervous shrinking that came over her, caught her
-hand under cover of the gloom and held it to his cheek--his lips. Then
-cleverly, easily, he brought the boat to the pier.
-
-The next instant Rachel was confronted by her husband. Giving Emil his
-coat, she stepped from the boat, refusing assistance. As she swayed on
-gaining the pier, Simon took hold of her arm; then passed his hand over
-her shoulders.
-
-"Why you're wet--you're wet through," he exclaimed, and as he turned to
-Emil she noticed that he spoke in a manner unusually cordial and
-spontaneous. "So you were caught in the rain? If you'll just step to
-the house, St. Ives, I'll give you something to ward off a chill; a nip
-of whiskey wouldn't come amiss."
-
-But Emil, muttering something about returning the fisherman's boat,
-disappeared in the twilight and Rachel, stumbling like one who walks in
-a dream, accompanied Simon to the house.
-
-"The rain won't harm you, my love," he was saying as they gained the
-porch, "if you change your clothing at once. It's remaining in damp
-garments that's the imprudent thing."
-
-As they crossed the threshold Rachel caught his hand. "Simon, I--I
-want to speak to you." And half dragging, half pushing him, she urged
-him into the front room.
-
-This room was large and shadowy, with a row of French windows
-commanding a view of the sea. The shades were drawn and the light from
-a small fire on the hearth sparkled on a glass dome beneath which were
-placed specimens of sea moss and shells. The dome stood at one end of
-a long table and a candelabrum hung with glass prisms at the other end;
-above one candle hung a red spark,--the wick needed snuffing. The room
-was damp. As she spoke Rachel, passing her arm behind her, clasped the
-glass knob of the door.
-
-"Simon--I don't want to stay here any longer."
-
-He confronted her in surprise: "Not stay here any longer? Why, Rachel,
-you astonish me; I thought you loved the sea."
-
-"So I do--but this coast--it oppresses me. Simon, I want to go back to
-the city at once, do you understand,--at once; can't we move to-morrow?"
-
-"But you're irrational, my dear. In fact the doctor whom I saw only
-yesterday, counselled just the opposite course. He said to me,
-speaking of you, 'the sea air is what she needs; she grew up in such a
-climate. You keep her on the shore until late fall!"
-
-For a moment Rachel dropped her head against the panels of the door and
-closed her eyes; then raising her head, she looked intently at her
-husband:
-
-"Simon, you asked Mr. St. Ives to come here; you asked him without
-consulting me and now--I want to go away."
-
-For an instant he studied her, then he crossed to her side and took her
-hand.
-
-"My dear Rachel," he said, "I thought perhaps you understood without
-anything being said. Rachel, believe me, I have not the feeling now
-about your friendship with St. Ives that I once had. That feeling of
-jealousy,--for it was jealousy--I do not deny it--was degrading to us
-both, but particularly it was insulting to you. And during your
-illness it left me; thank Heaven, it left me," he repeated. "And now
-be generous--don't take from me the happiness I feel. You think I
-objected to your being out with him, but when I saw you in the boat, I
-was conscious only of a serene friendship for St. Ives."
-
-A flash of firelight illumined his face and she saw to her surprise
-that his usually enigmatic eyes held a look that completely transformed
-him. The explanation she had intended to make died on her lips. With
-a bewildered gesture she turned as if to leave the room; and at that
-moment they were interrupted. There was a knock, and the caretaker
-questioningly opened the door.
-
-"If you please, Mrs. Hart," she began, "there's a strange young man
-down in the kitchen who is asking to see you."
-
-"A young man?"
-
-"Yes, a lad. My husband thinks he ain't just right, he's so sort of
-wild looking; but the boy says he's from your old home and nothing for
-it but he must see you."
-
-"Why it's André!" Rachel cried in amazement, and, before the woman had
-finished speaking, she darted from the room.
-
-Simon's voice pursued her: "Your clothing, change it first, I beg of
-you."
-
-Rachel had vanished.
-
-The next moment she was standing before André. Catching him by the
-arms, she shook him; then pressed her head to his shoulder. "Oh,
-André," she whispered, "Is it you--is it really?" And passing her arms
-about him, she clung to him.
-
-The young fellow suffered the embrace and his hands hung motionless at
-his sides, though in his great eyes a spark kindled as he looked down
-at her.
-
-"Tell me," she asked breathlessly, "how did you ever manage to find
-me--and what brings you, André dear? Explain--tell me everything, but
-not here," catching sight of the caretaker who had reëntered the
-kitchen. "Come to the front room where there is a fire.--Simon, this
-is André," she cried as they encountered her husband on his way through
-the hall. And taking the young fellow's hand, she placed it in Simon's.
-
-"Yes, I'm going now," she added. "I'm dying of curiosity, but I'll
-change my dress first. And do you make André comfortable. I'll be
-back in a minute," she cried.
-
-Rachel's welcome of her childhood's friend was all the more eager
-because she looked to him to save her from the difficulties of her
-situation and from herself. While she dressed, she thought only of
-André and as she drew on a pair of dry shoes and tightened the crossed
-lacings with excited jerks, she said his name over and over like a
-child bubbling with joy.
-
-"Now for the news?" she cried, entering the front room; and seating
-herself beside André, she took his hand. "Something special brought
-you, I know it. Now tell me."
-
-The story at any other time would have held her spellbound, but in her
-present mood she had difficulty in grasping it. Constantly her
-thoughts wandered, now to Emil, now to André. She drew such profound
-comfort from the touch of André's strong young fingers.
-
-The facts as he related them were as follows: A man in the last stage
-of consumption and calling himself, "John Smith" had made his
-appearance in Old Harbour a few days before. Desiring news of Lavina
-Beckett's daughter, he had asked to be directed to André. When he
-learned from André that Rachel was living in New York city, he had
-burst into tears. He had declared he must see her before he died. He
-had persuaded André to accompany him to the city as he feared to travel
-farther alone. But before leaving Old Harbour he had deposited a sum
-of money in the bank and had written a long letter which he addressed
-to Rachel. On the journey he had read and reread this epistle. He was
-very weak and when they reached their destination, collapsed in the
-great bustling station. After much parley over the telephone, a
-station attendant had arranged for his reception at a hospital.
-Thither he had been taken. The physician who attended him assured him
-he would be much stronger after a few hours' rest, and on hearing this,
-John Smith had begged André to find Rachel and bring her to the
-hospital the following day. "Afternoon's always my best time, bring
-her then," he had implored.
-
-"I understand; it's poor Father's friend," Rachel whispered dreamily,
-when André concluded; "he didn't send all the money Father gave him
-that time, and now he wants to give me the rest. That's the whole sad
-story. But André, I can't seem to think about it," she murmured after
-a moment. "I'll go to the hospital without fail, but now let's talk
-about you. Do you know, I think you managed splendidly to ferret me
-out in this way. You went to the house, first, of course, and Theresa
-told you where I was."
-
-While André's voice ran on detailing the news: how his mother and he
-now performed every duty about the lighthouse as the Captain was in his
-cups most of the time (Oh, but the Captain, he was a clever one at
-concealing the state of things!) how Nora Gage had gone into the shop
-with Katherine Fry, how Zarah Patch had increased the size of his
-vegetable garden, and Lottie Loveburg had taken up with Jim Wright
-after all--Rachel scarcely listened to him. A danger confronted her,
-and, try as she would, she could think of nothing but the decisive
-interview of the morrow,--that battle that must be waged in spite of
-her own deadly weakness and overwhelming love.
-
-She asked herself a question. Why at this time, rather than any other,
-were the facts relating to her father's life to be revealed to her?
-And, as she sat by André's side, she was conscious of a mysterious
-influence, like a warning, reaching her from the insistent past.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-IN WHICH JOHN SMITH UNBURDENS HIS CONSCIENCE
-
-Rachel's mouth was now perfectly formed to express her emotions, as it
-had not been in early youth. There had come a little added fulness in
-the curves of the upper lip, a little added sensitiveness in the line
-of the lower. With its well-defined corners, melting, when she smiled,
-into a pair of will-o'-the-wisp dimples, this mouth of hers was worthy
-to form the lure for many an exciting escapade on the part of her
-lovers. In her intelligent, sometimes perfervid, often gloomy face, it
-suggested a series of grace-notes introduced wilfully into a bit of
-serious music. It destroyed the general harmony of her face and
-increased its fascination. On the morning following the primitive race
-across the sands, the grace-notes dominated the more serious expression
-of her personality.
-
-In the depths of her there was plenty of sadness, but the joy which is
-inseparable from any confession of love, even the love which battles
-against insurmountable barriers, glowed through her and informed every
-fibre of her with sparkling animation. She laughed frequently for no
-apparent cause.
-
-The wide lawns about Gray Arches still glistened with dew and birds
-sang in the branches of the trees. The notes mingled with the plash of
-the waves on the distant beach, and with that infinite murmur of sounds
-that came out of the sunshine, out of the grass, out of the shimmering
-distances of that smiling country, checkered in light open fields and
-in dark variegated woods. All around, everywhere, was vivid
-palpitating life.
-
-Rachel with a huge pair of shears that flashed in the sun, was snipping
-dead roses from a bush of the late-blooming variety. Brown and
-withered, they fell on the gravel path--mere ghosts of flowers; and, at
-every onslaught, all the green leaves of the bush shook and all its
-fresh blossoms trembled and poured forth an intoxicating perfume as if
-to thank her for the service. Beside her, seated on the grass, André
-was making the flowers they had gathered into a bouquet. He held in
-his brown hands nasturtiums, gladioli and dahlias. Occasionally,
-unable to resist an unusually perfect one, Rachel flung him still
-another rose.
-
-"There," she said, "that's enough; if I cut any more, I shan't be able
-to carry them, and the hospital nurse may not let John Smith have them
-anyway."
-
-A thorn had scratched her wrist, and she lifted the hand to her lips.
-
-André regarded her with a vigorous gaze. "Do you know," he said at
-last, "you look like a rose yourself."
-
-She threw him the shadow of a glance from between half-closed lids. In
-her morning dress of delicate pink muslin, beneath a shade hat with a
-flapping brim, she did look like a rose; and a wide collar, turned up
-over her throat to protect it from the sun, heightened the illusion.
-Against its colour her cheeks had taken a richer tinge and her eyes,
-between their curling lashes, were unusually deep and liquid. She was
-amazingly beautiful with a superadded beauty, with that fleeting and
-ethereal grace, which, independent of features or contours, touches any
-woman when she realizes that she is loved where she herself loves.
-Now, as if anxious to divert André's too curious gaze, she began
-speaking rapidly and almost at random. The air and the sunlight
-appeared to intoxicate her.
-
-"Have you ever noticed, André," she cried, "the boastfulness of Nature
-when she has anything worth displaying? She is for all the world like
-a woman who takes particular pride in showing off her children, like
-that Mrs. Polestacker we both knew who was always calling attention to
-her Katie's teeth and curls. Take that rose bush," she continued, "it
-fairly swaggers with pride now that it is covered so finely with roses,
-but once the flowering season is over, and see how meekly it will
-obliterate itself; it will retire into the background like an old maid
-at a dance. For who notices the larkspur when its time is past, or the
-raspberry bush when it is no longer hung with its little crimson lamps?
-It is the energy that a growing, living thing puts forth that it would
-flaunt before us, saying, 'See here, _I_ produced these flowers--these
-berries!' and it is that energy which attracts us--the immense energy
-of being." And throwing back her head, her neck on the strain, her
-arms falling at her sides, with the shears in one hand, she gazed into
-the deep blue of the sky which, bending down over the earth, was like
-an inverted sea.
-
-Unconsciously, as in the old days, she spoke her thoughts aloud to
-André. He did not reply; if truth were told, he was in the dark as to
-her meaning, but that only increased the enchantment.
-
-André was Rachel's senior by six years, but owing to his mind in which
-the impressions were deep but few, he still looked a youth, almost a
-child. His beauty, agile, simple, unsettled, with admirable
-disposition of colouring, was that of a child. High on the cheek
-bones, under the eyes, the blood came and went with his emotions, and
-his arched lips under his tiny moustache stood a little open, which
-gave him an innocent expression. He was difficult to resist, just as a
-child is difficult to resist. Rachel's feeling for him was almost
-maternal; but for all that, her comprehension of him failed at one
-point.
-
-When he had first received word of her marriage, André had cast himself
-on the ground, and the earth had seemed to respond with deep tremours
-to his grief. He had told himself that he would never see her again.
-As for her husband, he felt that it would be impossible for him to ever
-meet Simon Hart without yielding to the desire to fly straight at his
-throat. Yet, he had met him and experienced no emotion of the sort.
-Something told him that Rachel was not in love with her husband. Still
-there was that in her eyes which bewildered him. Now with his hands
-clasped behind his head and his back against a tree, he regarded her
-with a devotion, a tenderness, a desperation of which none but a pure
-and youthful soul is capable, and the old agony began to stir again in
-the depths of his breast.
-
-Ceasing from her ecstatic contemplation of the sky, Rachel looked over
-at the gardener's cottage. As she did so, all her outlines went to
-deeper softness. André, sensitively, felt the thrill through her of
-some ineffable emotion.
-
-"What are you thinking about, Rachel?" he demanded.
-
-She started and the colour mounted.
-
-"Thinking?"
-
-"Yes; just now, when you turned and looked over yonder?"
-
-"Oh! ... I was thinking of Mr. St. Ives's improvement of the organ.
-It's really extraordinary what he has accomplished, André; and by such
-simple means. You must see it. He's carrying on his work over there
-in the gardener's cottage. And I was comparing his invention and his
-natural pride in it, to the rose bush and its roses, I suppose."
-
-"St. Ives?" André was sitting upright and rigid. "Is he--is he the one
-who came to Pemoquod that time?"
-
-"Yes. My husband formed a company to represent his inventions. I
-always felt Mr. St. Ives had great promise," she went on as frankly as
-she could, "and I persuaded Simon to get up a company. Now he's glad
-he did."
-
-André was wretched. "And he's here?
-
-"Yes; for a few weeks. Mr. Hart was anxious that the work shouldn't be
-delayed, so he came here while the shop is being altered."
-
-André said no more. And Rachel exerted herself to dispel his gloom.
-So contagious was the vitality of her mood that he apparently forgot
-the incident.
-
-Presently, bidding him gather up the withered roses that littered the
-path, and taking into her own hands the bunch of fresh blossoms, she
-led the way to the house and André followed. His old dream, in all its
-simplicity, once more possessed his heart.
-
-When Rachel arrived at the hospital, John Smith was expecting her. In
-a clean shirt with his grey hair neatly brushed and his gaunt frame
-arranged under a spotless sheet, he was eagerly awaiting her. The
-floor nurse warned her that the interview must be a brief one; the
-patient could not live more than a day or two.
-
-John Smith's story was substantially what Rachel had surmised it would
-be, and as he told it with frequent interruptions when the cough racked
-him, she had difficulty in fixing her thoughts upon him. The vital
-moment of her own life called her, and try as she would, she could give
-but a divided attention.
-
-"The fact is, I ain't done just the straight thing by you," he rambled
-on, "and I'm glad you're as well fixed as you are. It ain't quite the
-same as if I'd found you in want. However, I've suffered for putting
-this time off; I've been hectored in ways you wouldn't dream of.
-Needn't tell me the dead don't take their revenge if you pass over
-their wishes! I don't mean that they come back or anything of that
-sort," he interrupted himself, in response to a questioning glance,
-"but they stick in your mind somehow--you can't forgit how they looked
-when they told you to do such and such a thing, and you don't do it.
-But I'll say this much for myself, I meant as much as could be to give
-you that money when I reached America seventeen years ago, a month or
-two after your father's death; but I had a hard run of luck, and I used
-some of it, and then I used more, until it was about all gone. And it
-was only when I got this cough about three years and a half ago, that I
-began to think a good bit about Thomas Beckett. Funny too, so long
-after his death; but I'd see him when I was droppin' off to sleep, and
-he'd look at me so! But your father didn't do the straight thing
-either," he broke off with sudden resentment, "for he left your mother,
-as far as I could gather, to shift for herself.
-
-"As I was saying, perhaps it was my low state of health, but he gave me
-no rest; seemed as if he was tryin' to say that you needed that money.
-And finally the thought come to me that perhaps I ought to give your
-mother at least part of what was owin' her; so I wrote to Old Harbour
-and you know the rest. You see," he concluded, "when I learned that
-your mother had been dead more'n twenty years, I was afraid to make
-myself known. I was fearful some relative or friend'd get after me on
-your part. So I sent seven hundred dollars along, it was all I'd
-saved, to that friend of yours whose name the postmaster gave me, and
-then I left. I went away from the town in Massachusetts where I'd been
-workin' and I found a job as foreman in a mill in another town. And I
-thought everything'd be all right then; but do you know, I still
-dreamed of your father, and the upshot was, that I went to a priest and
-made a clean breast of the story; and as he told me to do, I worked
-hard and paid it all up. Yes, I've paid it all up," he finished, "for
-the balance, the eight hundred dollars that was comin' to you, I
-deposited in your name in the bank at Old Harbour;" and fumbling in the
-pocket of his shirt, he handed her a sealed envelope. "There's the
-deposit slip, and the whole story written out ready to be mailed to you
-in case I didn't manage to see you," he explained.
-
-His face had grown brighter, had regained a faint expression of health,
-as the load that had long oppressed his conscience was lifted.
-
-Rachel left the invalid holding admiringly in his bony fingers her
-bunch of flowers. She reached the door of the ward; then, with a
-sudden eagerness, she retraced her steps.
-
-"Was my Father a happy man?" she asked, "or did he seem to regret all
-along what he had done in leaving my Mother?" She waited his answer
-with bated breath.
-
-But relief was manifest all over John Smith. Had he not triumphantly
-passed through the ordeal of his confession? At her question his eyes
-glistened; he laughed a weak, irresponsible laugh.
-
-"No, I don't think he worried much about it till he come to die. It
-was far-away questions that touched your father more; he was always
-reading and sometimes he'd argue and git angry. But barring those
-times, he was pretty jolly as far as I can recollect. It was only when
-he seen the last port just ahead, that same as me, he seemed to think
-things over. But, I've done the right thing, and I'm going to git
-well," he proclaimed.
-
-The same nurse she had seen on coming, met her in the corridor. Rachel
-directed her to have John Smith moved to a private room with special
-attendant; then she left the hospital.
-
-For some reason she was relieved that her father had not regretted his
-course sooner, that he had remained, almost to the last, a true
-vagabond. As to her one-time hot defence of him on the score of his
-loyalty to her mother, the point had lost significance.
-
-All that was mettlesome in her character was aroused. Having promised
-Emil to go to the marble works, she was going there, in the face of
-fancied influences from the past; in the face, too, of the vigorous
-warning of her own conscience. The coming interview was absolutely
-necessary that she might, once and for all, make clear to him her
-position. In this juggling with conscience most women are adept.
-Rachel played the game so well as to be almost self-deceived. However,
-as the moment of the meeting drew near, she grew faint and a tide of
-irrepressible joy mingled with and almost dominated her misery. When
-she quitted the hospital she was pale with determination, like a
-soldier before battle, but her eyes, overflowing with light, were the
-eyes of a woman in love. Her mind was too full of its own matter to
-allow her to care about anything else. Does not the surge of passion
-in one's own breast drown the echo of death and despair from another's
-heart?
-
-She stopped at one of the large shops where delicacies were for sale,
-and ordered a basket of fruits and jellies sent to John Smith; then,
-hailing a cab, she drove to the marble works, which lay in the
-direction of the Bronx on the outskirts of the city.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-THE PLACE OF THE STATUES
-
-"Is Mr. St. Ives here?"
-
-The question fell into the silence of an office where Barbieri, the
-proprietor, was writing at a desk.
-
-"Mr. St. Ives? I will send for him. Julian,"--to a boy, who in the
-doorway was burying his naked feet in the fine white marble dust like
-snow,--"Mr. St. Ives,--a lady."
-
-"I have come to see the new machine."
-
-"Ah, the new machine? It is very wonderful; it not only points the
-marble, but cuts it, following the model; and no man touches it. Never
-anything like it in this country; in France, yes, there is something of
-the sort, but not perfect like this one."
-
-"As wonderful as that?"
-
-"_Si, si_,--yes, madam, wonderful."
-
-"And will you show me how it works? I want to see it in operation."
-
-"In operation? Ah, I regret, but to-day, madam, to-day is Saturday;
-there is no power, no electricity, you understand, no men."
-
-"Then why did he have me come?" she murmured, and caught her lip
-between her teeth, a trick with her when angry or perplexed.
-
-"Why did you have me come?" she said, addressing the inventor, who with
-impetuous strides was advancing to meet her.
-
-He paused in his tracks: "I had forgotten that they closed down."
-
-She scanned him with a swift glance.
-
-"Forgive me," he said in an undertone, "really, I had forgotten,
-Rachel, if I ever knew it. But you must see the place now you are
-here.--Mr. Barbieri," he added, "I am going to show Mrs. Hart over the
-works," and he led the way across a narrow court to an adjoining
-structure.
-
-The marble shop covered an extensive area, and the white light that
-fell through its glass roof inundated its farthest corner. In this
-bath of light, in this silence, unbroken by a single sound; in the
-midst of casts, dust, artistic litter of all sorts, were the statues.
-Some scarcely blocked from the rough stone, they rose on all sides.
-They overtopped the miniature plaster models, like giants overtopping
-pygmies; they elbowed the grotesque machines that are used for
-enlarging purposes; they crowded the walls; they occupied every foot of
-space not reserved for the workmen; some even, with their Titan tread,
-had passed through the lofty doorway and stood among barrels and
-rubbish in the garish sunlight of the yard. On every side monoliths of
-stone were being cut into human shape. There was a torso with the
-girth of a Colossus; over yonder a hand chiseled from a boulder; beyond
-that, a monumental figure frowning like a tortured Atlas. All in
-sections--painful, writhing, some of the statues lacked a head, others
-an arm or a foot, and others had their limbs still entangled in uncut
-blocks of stone.
-
-It was like a workshop of surgeons of stone men; like a manufactory of
-the gods where were created marble monsters that suffered with the age
-and immobility of stone, in which petty human qualities of Fortitude,
-Justice, Fidelity were being stamped. Hewn out of the womb of the
-earth, the marble was tortured here to wear man's face, his form;
-finally it would be set up under the sun to testify with the might of
-marble limbs to the ideals that govern his heart.
-
-As she viewed the stone population, no one could have told what was
-passing in Rachel's stormy little breast, for if there was a spark in
-her eyes that seemed to indicate subterranean depths of passion, the
-rest of her features were astonishingly passive. Her gloves hampered
-her, and with nervous gestures she began taking them off. Tense and
-silent and acutely vital, she stood beside Emil, an expression of all
-that is baffling and mysterious in woman.
-
-Conscious of a dryness in his throat, he kept his eyes to the statues.
-
-"They are said to be the largest figures ever cut," he murmured. "They
-are for the pediment of the new Century Library."
-
-"How still they are!"
-
-"Yes, and one rather expects them to speak and move." Suddenly
-swinging round, he looked her in the eyes. "Oh, my own!" he cried.
-With uncertain steps he moved toward her.
-
-And swift and strong between them, Fate drew her thread of love; in
-that electric net of hers, she caught their souls and drew them close
-together. She took the pair of them, as a fowler takes a bird.
-
-His savage heart dominated by emotion, Emil trembled with a desire to
-fall at her feet. But she would not own her capture.
-
-"Stop, Emil!" she cried in a suppressed voice; "stop right where you
-are! I'll not listen to your words! I came here to tell you--"
-
-He looked upon her intently: "You came because you had to come!"
-
-The speech thrilled with the inspiration of conquest.
-
-"Oh, my love," he cried, "haven't the years we've been separated been
-dreary enough? Haven't they been empty enough for us both?--For you,
-on your side, you love me; I know it!"
-
-Instead of answering she drew herself up. But he ignored these signs
-of rebellion.
-
-"It was a misty day when I first saw you," he pursued, "and yesterday
-also it was misty and wet, and all at once I understood that I had been
-carrying the thought of you in my heart from the start. Rachel, you
-are my heart!" he cried, borne on by the lyric power of his own
-utterance. "And as I raced after you across that beach, I knew to a
-certainty it was no one-sided thing. Rachel, that kiss, _your_
-kiss--it was not a childish impulse; and I dare to tell you so. We
-took possession of each other, love, at the first glance! Can you deny
-it? _Do_ you deny it?" compressing her hands. "No, no, you cannot!"
-he concluded; "and that being true, it is beyond our own power or the
-power of any creature, to part us now! Oh, sweet!" and his tone
-changed quickly as he saw that she shook from head to foot, "look
-around you,--isn't the world beautiful? haven't we a right to
-happiness?"
-
-Dropping on his knees, he carried her hand to his throbbing breast.
-
-"Happiness?" she repeated, "no, no, not happiness! but peace perhaps,
-and that comes--it comes--"
-
-He looked up into her face--up at the quivering bend of her lips, up
-until his eyes found hers, drowned in tears and almost covered by their
-fluttering lids--and into his glance flashed a subjugating power, an
-irresistible force.
-
-She attempted to follow the line of her argument, a moment before so
-clear, but the word "renunciation" died away in a sigh.
-
-She helplessly returned his look.
-
-And the gigantic statues increased her bewilderment; for the one
-thought that seemed to leap behind the statues' staring eyes, between
-their huge and rigid lips, in the hollow of their stony breasts, was
-the naturalness of loving wildly.
-
-Emil dropped his lips on her wrist.
-
-Releasing the hand, she sought to repulse him, but instead, she
-clutched his hair with a tenderness almost convulsive.
-
-"Oh, you are killing me!" she moaned.
-
-Drawing himself up, he tried to take her in his arms; but with sudden
-violence, she forced his head downward.
-
-"Oh, you torture me!" she panted.
-
-He grasped her hands;--and once more, before her drowning sight,
-wavered the statues. In a delirious flash she realized the similarity
-of their fate. Like them, she was destined to stand forth under an
-open sky, testifying to a command contrary to nature, but which had
-been laid upon her kind from time immemorial.
-
-She pushed Emil from her, and pressing her hands to her breast, fled
-head down from the place.
-
-Instantly he was upon his feet:
-
-"You are not going?" ......
-
-
-Among the statues, quiet, watchful, the words trembled and died away;
-then in sympathy the statues seemed to shudder at that cry of agony and
-surprise.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-THE ENERGY OF BEING
-
-Cabs were an infrequent phenomenon in that quarter and a crowd of small
-boys,--eager, dirty, volatile, with thin bare little legs and miserable
-little elbows, were gathered around the knock-kneed horse that
-dejectedly hung its head. They were feeding the animal with dusty
-grass plucked from between the cobblestones of the pavement. But at
-Rachel's approach they fell away as if pushed away. The driver in his
-tall hat bent to receive her order. She gave it without looking at him.
-
-Mad, uncalculating love, too long repressed, struggled in her with a
-vague sense of shame. But at first the sense of shame was shadowy
-indeed. Carried out of every perception but the throbbing one of her
-loss of self in Emil, for a time she heard only his words "my own."
-"Yes, yours, yours always," the blood proclaimed, and the soul's
-contradiction sounded small and faint. Then, as the voice of
-conscience grew stronger, she turned her head from side to side in
-agony. Chaste and fiercely proud, she told herself she was a
-humiliated woman. But not his the blame. All that had happened she
-had invited. By her expression she seemed to be saying, "I will not
-think."
-
-None the less she did think. She went over the scene from which she
-had just issued, not once, but countless times, and at each repetition
-she extracted from it the keenest misery, the most poignant bliss. All
-the mystery and domination of her passion were written on her face and
-at intervals sighs escaped her, mingled with breathless,
-half-articulated words:
-
-"Oh,--he loves me--he loves me--and if it weren't for a certain thing
-we could be happy."
-
-She paused, again borne out of herself by an animating memory. Once
-more Emil stood before her with his glance, laughing, kindling,
-melting. Once more he spoke. As she listened to all the mad, foolish,
-electrifying things that fell from his lips, life seemed to break forth
-in her in its plentitude. His words were to her panting heart what
-rain is to the parched earth. She experienced a feeling at once
-violent and divine.
-
-And she had repulsed him.
-
-The memory left her almost sobbing. She moved her hands; she lifted
-her face with its tremulous mouth breathing a caress. For uncounted
-instants she remained suspended in abysses of tenderness. Then she
-braced herself with resolution.
-
-"No, no," she said aloud. "It's settled."
-
-The dead, expressionless words voiced finality. Thus the will brought
-the heart temporarily into subjection.
-
-After innumerable involuntary returns to the scene of the marble works
-she forced herself to give attention to her surroundings. Feverishly
-she stared about her with breath suspended and lips a little open like
-a child after a violent fit of weeping.
-
-As the cab rolled forward, with bare tracts, isolated houses and clumps
-of trees revealing themselves on either side, to her superalert mind,
-the city appeared a million-eyed, million-footed monster. Excitedly
-she nourished the grotesque fancy, seeking in it escape from deeper
-realization. With its great legs of brick and stone, with its
-numberless eyes of glass, turbid and bleary, its voluminous, impure
-breath of smoke, its voice of inconceivable uproar, the city was
-encroaching on the innocent country. It was devouring it field by
-field; it was swallowing down the sweet cottages which disappeared from
-the landscape with miraculous swiftness; swallowing the brooks, the
-woods, glutting itself and growing big at the expense of the fresh
-country that never could be restored in all its natural beauty. "Yes,
-yes, God made the country but man makes the city," she whispered.
-
-As the cab rolled on over more crowded pavements, her consciousness of
-the scene through which she had just passed was dulled briefly, as pain
-is dulled in a patient suffering with delirium.
-
-"Ah, how useless is all this bustle and confusion!" she thought
-irritably. "Surely man could live more simply. But he is dedicated to
-vanity, he must make a splurge. What was that I said to André this
-morning? Oh yes--about the energy of being. Man must make a show, if
-not for his Creator's satisfaction at least for his own. The Creator!"
-she murmured bitterly, "He knows nothing of us! We pine constantly for
-a liberty fuller than any we have ever known, and that accounts for all
-our unwearying expenditure of force. Poor pygmies! Persisting deep in
-the soul of man, is a vague, undefined sense, 'I am the heritor of the
-infinite.' And so he works," she continued, "he produces marvels and
-he thinks his immediate achievement embraces his entire object. But it
-isn't so. And he opens his heart to passions; but his object is the
-same. For back of the least labour into which he throws himself, back
-of the most depraved emotion in which he loses himself, is a vast,
-mysterious, subconscious searching; and that," she declared, "accounts
-for everything."
-
-She was soaring now above herself, above the terror of her problem.
-She was viewing the situation as the universal situation and her
-thoughts were transfigured, rendered impersonal by the clearness of her
-perception. She saw life no longer with the eyes of an inexperienced
-and impassioned woman, but with the eyes of one made wise through
-extremity of anguish.
-
-"It accounts for all the good that we do and for all the evil that we
-do," she resumed. "Each chooses a road of escape, perhaps many roads,
-and follows them madly. But," she concluded, "we never find that
-larger freedom. We are tormented by the feeling of its imminence, but
-it retreats ever beyond us. And finally we come face to face with the
-eternal, basic fact of existence: _I am a prisoner_. That's what we
-discover. We learn the truth. I learned it that night after the
-opera. _I am the bird in the box!_"
-
-For an instant she held her head erect, then shrank, a pained and
-huddled form, against the cushions of the cab.
-
-"Yes, I have my dream like the others," she whimpered. "But it isn't a
-dream. Love _is_ a mode of escape. It is. It is. And it's my road.
-But do I follow it?"
-
-The answer was a forlorn shake of the head.
-
-"Emil, my Father, Simon, Emily Short, that girl Betty Holden, even Nora
-Gage; all--all wiser than I. They follow their instincts, creditable
-or discreditable, they follow them and they glean at least some
-satisfaction. While I--"
-
-The full tide of her misery, that which she had tried to evade,
-inundated her.
-
-"Fool, why am I like that?" she muttered, "for some scruple, which God,
-if he knows, probably laughs at me for respecting. As Emil said,
-wasn't it God made us capable of love?"
-
-The tears had not come before. Now she checked them with her
-handkerchief, but constantly they fell, constantly she gave long deep
-sighs, heartrending, mournful. Presently a flaming, defiant thought
-stood out against the background of her misery. There was relief in
-action, even in the action that is called sin.
-
-"Madam would like to have me get her ferry ticket?"
-
-The greasy red face of the driver was peering down upon her; the cab
-had come to a standstill. She had entirely forgotten why she was there
-and it was only by an effort that she understood what he was asking.
-
-Once on the ferry boat, she leaned her elbows on the railing and, as
-she listened to the talk of the water, she grew calmer. For it was
-strange, wise talk with a laugh under it. The little choppy waves
-seemed to be telling her that life was short and sweet. Grey and blue
-and dun colour, pink and rose red, the waves shouted and sang together.
-And above the roofs of the receding city, wrapped in the mists of
-evening and the ascending vapour of traffic, the dull and yet flaming
-disk of the sun hung suspended.
-
-A passenger disturbed her and she shifted her position. Important
-little tugs towing huge rafts, and the arms of derricks being convoyed
-over the water, like helpless giants, came into view; and for a time
-the ferry boat passed into the sheltering shadow of a great bridge.
-Emerging from one confused and sparkling distance and disappearing into
-another, the bridge appeared like a tangible bow of promise between the
-two cities. The sight of the cable cars and the tiny moving mites
-that, like insects, slowly crawled over it, comforted her like a
-friendly omen.
-
-But when they gained the other shore and she entered the station, the
-locomotives, emitting great volumes of smoke, recalled to her mind her
-grandfather's fanciful description; and she remembered with a pang how
-she used to behold the world in an innocent and beautiful fashion. But
-now she saw deeper, now she understood all.
-
-The rest of the trip she ceased to think. She had entered that land
-known to every unhappy lover, that land in which the misery, longing
-and fierce passion that consume his heart, constitute the one reality
-in a universe otherwise cold and dead.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-IN THE GARDEN
-
-The sight of Annie, arrayed in a freshly-ironed white dress and sitting
-in the carriage behind Peter, gave Rachel a disagreeable shock.
-
-"Mr. Hart thought very likely you'd come on the Express, and he sent me
-along for the drive," and Annie moved her starched flounces that Rachel
-might sit beside her. "Was it hot in the city?"
-
-"Yes, very."
-
-"And did you go to the marble works to see the new machine? Alexander
-said that he had asked you."
-
-"Yes, I went there; but it was Saturday and they had closed down."
-
-"Oh--then nothing came of your visit?"
-
-Rachel shivered.
-
-"All the same," the other continued, "it's very remarkable, that
-machine; and the best of it is, though I don't suppose you'll think so,
-Alexander is entitled to all he makes on it and he's going to make a
-good deal. You see, it's this way," she explained, "Mr. Watson, Mr.
-Hart--none of the Company, in fact, took a bit of stock in that
-marble-cutting scheme when Alexander outlined it for them. They said:
-'There's nothing in it; you go ahead with the organ attachment, don't
-let anything come before that; and work out the marble-cutting machine
-on the side and you're welcome to all you make on it.' And Alexander
-worked out the whole thing and even made the big model on three Sundays
-and the Fourth of July, which came on Monday. Those four days were
-sufficient, and it's proved a triumph--really a great triumph. But I
-suppose he's told you. He said he was going to; and I thought it would
-be all right, for I knew you'd be on Alexander's side and would see
-that what he's done is perfectly fair."
-
-Rachel nodded. "Perfectly fair," she murmured.
-
-She had been asking herself while they had been driving along, what
-Annie's mode of escape was. Now she knew. "It's the accumulation of
-things," she told herself. "Annie thinks if Emil can earn enough money
-so that they can have _things_, she'll be more than she is now."
-
-"If they pay him as much as they promised to, those Italians up there,"
-Annie continued, "I don't see why we shouldn't have a little cottage in
-the fall on the outskirts of the city somewhere, and Alexander could go
-in to his work."
-
-"Didn't I say so?" Rachel thought; and she was delighted at her own
-astuteness.
-
-The carriage lamps were lighted and by the aid of these and the shining
-of the full moon, she could see her companion distinctly even to the
-tiny freckles that covered the bridge of her nose. Freckles and all,
-however, Annie was looking undeniably pretty in a fresh and innocent,
-if somewhat meaningless, way. Annie's emotions were those of a child,
-Rachel told herself, trying to lighten her burden of self-reproach and
-shame.
-
-They arrived at the gate of Gray Arches which was cut through an
-evergreen hedge and guarded by two large ornamental lamps, that, being
-rusty and out of order, were never lighted. The carriage rolled over
-the sand of the avenue, past some large bushes of rhododendron and
-arrived before the steps of the glass-enclosed porch. Simon hastened
-out of the house and helped them to alight.
-
-"So you caught the Express all right?" he cried; then added, in an
-undertone as he took Rachel's arm, "I sent her to meet you, because I
-knew she'd enjoy the drive. St. Ives is in the city to-day and I asked
-her to dine with us."
-
-A few moments later Rachel stood at the window of her room.
-
-Below in the garden Annie was standing beside Simon. He had picked up
-a pebble from the path. "Do you know," she heard him say in the tone
-he always assumed when communicating information, "I've noticed that a
-great many of these pebbles are of the amethyst variety."
-
-"It's curious," she thought, approaching the washstand, "what Simon
-sees in Annie. He can't do enough for her, apparently. She's over
-here all the time now."
-
-She began drawing off her rings, but the wedding ring resisted and she
-was obliged to hold the finger under a faucet. Her face assumed a
-moody, desperate expression. The world had shrunk to the round of her
-wedding ring.
-
-She plunged her face into the cold water. What should she put on?
-Emil had called her beautiful. Was it true that she was beautiful?
-She put on a light dress trimmed with insertions of real lace, a dress
-much too elaborate for the occasion, and went downstairs.
-
-In the dining room the party was awaiting her, and Simon had lit the
-wax candles in the large candelabra in honour of Annie's presence. In
-the shifting radiance which is a peculiarity of candle light, Rachel's
-beauty shone forth triumphantly. Annie in her freshly-starched frock,
-with her smooth blond little head and her unimaginative glance, looked
-like a daisy of the kind that grows by the thousand in the fields,
-beside some rare flower that had opened its petals to their extreme
-limit. There was no mystery in Annie; but Rachel was all mystery, all
-passion, all fire. Something unusual escaped from the glances she
-lifted, and from those she half-concealed. Shadows teased the corners
-of her mouth and sank into the slight hollow at the base of her throat.
-Light bathed her brow. Something that was at once the "joy of her
-soul" and the grief of her soul trembled from between her parted lips.
-
-André could not take his eyes from her; and, as he looked, an
-immeasurable anguish mingled with his delight.
-
-"I must catch the train in the morning, Rachel," Simon remarked as they
-rose from the table, "a note from Theresa says Father is ailing.
-Nothing serious, I infer, but I shall spend the day in town to-morrow,
-lunch with him, and then I shall know all I wish. Watch a man when
-he's taking his food and you can judge fairly of his condition."
-
-Rachel cast a scornful glance at her husband. Everything he said
-to-night annoyed her. But his next words made her ashamed.
-
-"I wish I could bring Father out here," he added, "but the doctor is
-against it and perhaps he's right."
-
-She turned impulsively with some idea of making amends for her
-thoughts. But when Simon, as they were leaving the dining room,
-inclined his head toward hers, she sprang aside, giving him a strange
-look in the face.
-
-Of course she must tell him everything; but not to-night--to-night, she
-thought, he seemed particularly contented. He had gone now to get his
-hat. The clouds on the previous day had not emptied themselves. Now
-they once more drove through the heavens, though the moon, at present,
-shone victoriously. As Annie feared for her starched dress, Simon was
-going to take her home at once.
-
-When the door had closed upon them, Rachel went into the front room.
-André was sitting before one of the long windows, the casement of which
-lay back against the wall. In one of the upper panes of glass,
-swimming through a bank of wild clouds, the moon was reflected. It was
-as if the moon were in the room. The heat had increased; lightning
-played along the sky, and in the garden, the shrubbery, half shrouded
-in a silvery mist, was motionless.
-
-"Play something for me, André," Rachel said; and going to the window,
-she stood with her hands clasped behind her neck. How get through this
-evening--how get through her entire life?
-
-"I thought out a piece after you left Pemoquod. I will play that for
-you." And passing to the mantel, André took down his fiddle. "I call
-it your piece," he added softly.
-
-But Rachel, her eyes on the gleaming garden, did not hear him.
-
-Presently, a mournful and plaintive air, like the voice of a child
-giving way to grief, began to float through the room. It was
-instinctive playing, devoid of skill in the technical sense; none the
-less the sound of the strings was wistful, heart-rending. And suddenly
-the song gained in force and rang out powerfully; the crude,
-passionate, beseeching melody flowed from under the nervous,
-swift-moving bow, and such tenderness and devotion mingled with its
-flowing, such piercingly-sweet supplication, that Rachel, laying her
-face on her arm, supported herself against the casement.
-
-And André, his dark head bent, his cheek pressed to the violin,
-conscious that she was there before him in her rich dress, played like
-one in an ecstasy. His body swayed, tears stood on his pale cheeks,
-but his eyes were closed.
-
-At last, unable to endure the constantly recurring love _motif_, which
-was sweeter than the moon, more fathomless than the white moon drowned
-in space, Rachel fled through the long window. With a fierce movement
-she lifted her arms above her head; then, as if broken, rested her face
-against a tree. Rising from the ground beneath her feet, floating
-between the branches of the mist-hung trees, thrilling through all the
-spaces of the still and waiting garden, ran the fire of that exquisite
-melody, sounded those strains of pure and youthful love.
-
-Presently a flowering shrub moved slightly. Some branches that
-overhung a path stirred; then everything was motionless.
-
-She raised her head, her whole frame quivering like a tightly drawn bow.
-
-Out of the shadows, running rather than walking, Emil was advancing.
-
-With one movement she sprang to him and, uttering a low cry, he caught
-her.
-
-Each on the lips of the other, their souls were drowned in oblivion;
-for if he kissed her, she as openly kissed him; and if her cheeks were
-drenched with tears, they certainly were not all of her own shedding.
-Tempestuous, tragic emotion overflowed the hearts of both. In the
-delicious anguish of their embrace, the memory of life with its pitiful
-conventions dropped from them. Loyalty was an empty word, pity a name.
-
-Their clinging arms its walls, their shining eyes its stars, they stood
-apart in a universe new-made.
-
-And from the old, old sky the moon that watches over this paltry world
-of man with his misery and his bliss,--the moon looked down on them.
-Changing her position on her cloudbank, like a head lolling lazily on a
-pillow, the moon bestowed on the pair of bewildered children the same
-glance of remote indulgence she recently had bestowed on the lovers in
-the Garden of Eden. She threw her brightness over their clasping arms
-and eloquent faces, and with her radiance mischievously deepened the
-glamour of that supreme moment in their infinitesimal lives. Then
-sinking amid the down of her pillow, she temporarily disappeared.
-
-"Rachel, what did you mean by leaving me the way you did this
-afternoon?" Emil whispered, pausing long enough between his kisses to
-hold back her head, while he looked down into her eyes with his own
-which were fierce and wet; "Didn't you know it would be useless?"
-
-His words roused her from the spell that had enwrapped her. Freeing
-herself with violence, she turned on him. The crimson had dropped from
-her cheek like the colours from a mast head.
-
-"Emil, leave me!"
-
-His eyes glowed with a peculiar brilliance:
-
-"Leave you, my own? I'll never leave you! and you'll never leave me
-again; that couldn't happen more than once!"
-
-And as she looked at him, she understood that he could conceive of
-nothing strong enough to deter him from following the dictates of his
-pagan and powerful nature.
-
-"Go away, Emil," she said dully, "if you have any love for me--any pity
-even." Her brows drew together with hopeless obstinacy. She turned.
-
-With one stride he was beside her and had caught her hand. "Listen to
-me, love," he cried, and a curious mingling of command, entreaty and
-supplication trembled in the words, "to-morrow is Sunday, there is a
-train in the afternoon at six; I'll wait for you in that little grove
-near the station. Do you understand?"
-
-"No;" and she stared back at him, all in a blaze.
-
-"Oh, yes you do," he said gently; "I mean that we'll go off
-somewhere--far, far away. We'll have a cottage on a beach, something
-like this one here; and we'll have a boat. And there'll be nothing to
-come between us any more. All that is past. We'll forget it, as if it
-had never been, and we'll live for each other. And perhaps, later, if
-you are willing," he pursued, carried away by his visions, "we'll have
-Mother join us; for you'll take to Mother, Rachel, and she'll take to
-you. Then, how I will work! I'll astonish you; I'll astonish the
-world. I'll make you a proud and happy woman, but it will all be owing
-to you."
-
-"But Simon--Annie--what of them?" she broke in upon him hastily, for
-she feared this last argument more than she feared death.
-
-"Well, what of them?" he interrogated, purposely misinterpreting her.
-"To be sure, Annie scarcely lets me out of her sight these days," he
-added thoughtfully. "She understands about as much as a humming-bird
-how such a chap as I has to do his work, and she's eternally standing
-at my elbow and egging me on. It will be a little difficult to slip
-away. However, I'll tell her that I'm obliged to see those fellows in
-the Bronx,--which is quite true," he finished with a brightening smile.
-"And then another thing that will make my getting away easy, Annie
-takes a nap now every afternoon, so it can be readily arranged. We'll
-simply walk away from this, Rachel--we'll leave it all."
-
-She heard in these words the declaration of one who refuses to be
-fettered by life; who, instead of being hampered by its conventions,
-rises superior to them. The simplicity of the point of view transfixed
-her.
-
-Ordinarily Emil would have been swift to note and follow up the
-advantage he had gained; but, as he looked upon Rachel, the quality of
-her resistance struck him for the first time; thereupon that primitive
-something which in him took the place of conscience stirred ever so
-slightly. For a brief instant he saw the line of conduct he was
-tracing so blithely for the pair of them, in a novel and uncomfortable
-light. A burning emotion rose from the depths of his soul, and in its
-wake it carried new and troubling questions. He waved his arms
-vehemently as if to drive this brood of questions from him. But the
-new emotion persisted, and seemed to fill his breast.
-
-"I don't pretend to know much about any question of right or wrong," he
-murmured, all at once humble; "but it seems to me, love such as ours is
-beyond all that. As for Annie," he went on, his confidence in himself
-restored, "she won't be sorry to be rid of me when she gets over the
-first surprise. Her parents are forever urging her to come home, and
-you remember she did leave me a while ago. Ours was a daft marriage if
-there ever was one," he continued, "for two unliker people were never
-yoked together. And the life she'll lead with her parents will suit
-Annie far better. Poor kitten," he commented with unwonted softness,
-"she was never made for hardships, and we'll be doing her no wrong.
-The thing I'm striving after means less than nothing to Annie, and
-there's where you are different, Rachel. You'll be patient till I do
-succeed; but I'll not keep you waiting long, sweet, for your presence
-will brace me so that I can't fail. Then take your husband," he
-pursued, with a steady glance under her lids, "is he a fit mate for
-you? Ask yourself? No, no, my own, my darling, we are the fit mates!"
-
-Strongly, in spite of her swift denying, even with sobs, he drew her to
-his breast.
-
-And through the garden, André's song of love struck on their ears. It
-wrapped them round like the voice of their own passion. It increased
-perceptibly in volume as though the player were drawing near. Then,
-its strains which leapt on a sudden to those of triumph, ceased:--there
-came a crash.
-
-Rachel struggled to escape, and she did escape. She retraced the few
-steps of the path, she entered the house through the long window.
-Something flashed past her and disappeared in the shrubbery. On the
-sill she stumbled over a dark object which gave out a faint discordant
-sound. It was André's violin with its strings still vibrating.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XI
-
-FLAMES
-
-Some hours later Rachel sat at a window of her room with her forehead
-resting on her hands. The clouds by this time covered the face of the
-moon; and the darkness was enlivened by patches and scars of lightning,
-as though the heavens were being laid open with a fiery whip. Rain
-fell. A fine spray of moisture penetrated the ragged awning. Rachel
-never stirred.
-
-A dull lethargy had descended on her. She no longer thought of Emil or
-of her husband. She had but one sensation--the inevitable had
-happened. The fury of the storm brought her a sense of relief. At
-moments she felt herself being carried forward by a dark irresistible
-current. None the less her determination, like an anchor, held. She
-never faltered in her resolution to leave Gray Arches; she even heard
-herself explaining the matter to Simon and she saw his face. His
-fingers trembled through his hair, his jaw fell, all the blood receded
-from his cheek. "But why disturb him?" she thought; "why should he be
-made to suffer?" No, plainly, she must invent some pretext for
-leaving, then go at once. She must not see Emil again.
-
-Without realizing it, Rachel dropped at last into a troubled sleep,
-from which she was aroused by a rap on the door.
-
-"Oh, has he gone?" she cried, starting to her feet, and she pushed back
-the hair from her face. "Has Simon gone?"
-
-The very possibility that her husband already had started for the city,
-in view of her resolution, seemed to her a tragedy.
-
-Emily, after a short, sharp inspection of her, laid a pile of
-freshly-ironed linen on a chair.
-
-"Yes," she answered, "he knocked at your door, but you gave no sign and
-he didn't like to disturb you. Peter was slow harnessing and Mr. Hart
-was afraid he wouldn't make the train, but he must have made it or he'd
-be back by now. It is after eight o'clock."
-
-Rachel sank into her chair with huddled knees. She looked as if she
-never intended to move again.
-
-Emily took her wrist. "Wouldn't you like your coffee here?"
-
-Rachel looked up at her stupidly.
-
-Emily repeated the question; she even broke into scolding as she
-brought a loose gown to the other and insisted on her removing her
-dress. But once outside the door, Emily extended both hands as if
-appealing to a protective Providence. "A nice state of things!" she
-muttered, with an expression of mingled pain, indignation and perfect
-comprehension.
-
-But when she appeared with the breakfast tray a few moments later she
-was as stern of aspect as before. After shaking out a table-cloth, she
-placed the tray on a little stand at Rachel's elbow.
-
-But Rachel turned away. With her head propped on her two hands, she
-stared in front of her; and nothing Emily could say served to draw her
-from this state.
-
-That morning the little toy-maker could not work as usual. A tiny
-parachute was very nearly ruined by an ill-directed movement of the
-shears; and a piece of green satin for the aeronaut's coat was utterly
-spoiled by tears, which she scorned to notice, falling upon it. She
-was so upset that more than once the utensils of her craft rolled on
-the floor while her hands dropped to her knees. To herself Emily
-fiercely denied any attraction in Emil and she praised staunchly every
-one of Simon Hart's qualities.
-
-About one o'clock Rachel, after refusing luncheon, left the house for a
-walk; and Emily, having satisfied herself that the other went to the
-beach, lay down on her bed. "Let her tire herself out; it is the best
-thing she can do," Emily murmured, and dropped asleep, with a tear
-standing in a furrow under one eye.
-
-The caretaker, who served in the capacity of cook, in company with her
-husband and the other servants, was spending the day with friends and
-would not return until late; even Peter, the coachman, was away for the
-afternoon. Meanwhile, in this house far removed from the city, the
-stillness which is peculiar to the Sabbath, deepened.
-
-Rachel walked the beach. She sat down, but immediately rose again.
-Not only her own life, but all the life about her seemed suspended.
-
-Emil was on his way to the station now; in her mind she could see him
-swinging along the road: so robust and naďve was his egotism, he would
-never question for a moment that she would come. At the thought of his
-disappointment, she began sobbing with her handkerchief to her lips.
-All sorts of dark thoughts rose indistinctly from the depths of her
-soul. Simon, save for one failing, was hopelessly free of faults; he
-was almost perfect. Scarcely aware of what was passing in her mind,
-she began picturing what would happen in case of his death. But there
-was Annie. However, Annie could obtain a divorce; she could return, as
-Emil had said, to her parents. Rachel arranged every detail of the
-situation; but these scarcely articulate plans, these involuntary
-dreams, were accompanied by a physical sensation of shame--revulsion.
-
-She shook herself free of the sorry brood and looked about her. Had
-she been there an hour, two hours, five minutes? She did not know.
-Presently a vesper bell from a distant village sounded intermittently
-above the plashing of the waves. With her hand pressed to her heart,
-she listened. Then she sped to the house.
-
-In the hallway the old-fashioned clock marked a quarter past five.
-Three quarters of an hour more! There was still time to meet Emil!
-And she pictured him waiting for her in the grove near the station,
-impatiently scanning the road. Reaching her room, she flung herself
-into a chair and clung to its arms to prevent herself from answering
-the summons. Dumb, breathless, distraught, with her head hanging on
-her breast, she listened to the measured ticking of the clock which
-reached her from the hall. She could still restrain her body, but she
-could not control her mind.
-
-"To-day decides my fate; either I go with Emil now, or I remain with
-Simon forever. To-day decides my fate."
-
-She seemed to have a fondness for the phrase for she said it over and
-over.
-
-"If I remain with Simon, all will go on as before; but if I go with
-Emil--"
-
-She closed her eyes. The walls of the room dropped away and she saw a
-landscape. Sedge grass bordered the road to the station. In it she
-sank repeatedly and its brown waves washed over her head. But ever
-before her was Emil. Infinitely multiplied, he smiled at her from the
-leaves, the grass, the dust. The faces resolved themselves into one
-face. He drew near; she was penetrated by his presence. All the love
-in her, all the joy of which she was capable, was revealed. She
-clasped her hands about his neck, she laid her face on his breast, and
-the past with its futile struggles, its anguish, like a bad dream,
-receded from her.
-
-Then she recognized the sunlight striking through the white shades of
-the room. It was tracing the usual pattern on the floor and glistening
-indolently on the brass knobs of the dressing-table.
-
-With a cry she started to her feet. Maddened, she began to heap some
-articles into a dressing-bag. She was turning from her bureau to the
-bag when John Smith's letter, which she had not yet read, caught her
-eye. It was propped against the frame of the mirror. She put out a
-hand.
-
-With his closely-written pages which she passed over, there was a
-little yellow note directed to her mother in a feeble scrawl. Leaning
-against the embrasure of the window, Rachel unfolded the note almost
-against her will. But the more she endeavoured to fix her attention
-upon it, the more confused she became.
-
-"My dear Lavina: I ought not to have left you--"
-
-She stared at the words, which trailed off into an illegible run of
-characters; and the note with its message for another heart, stilled
-now these twenty years, slipped from her fingers.
-
-Outside the sunlight danced on the multitudinous leaves and shimmered
-on the gravel path. Except for the sound of the sea all was silence.
-A passing breeze fluttered the paper at her feet and the room was
-filled with the subtle exhalation of that old regret.
-
-She was on her knees. She still saw Emil, heard his voice; and as if
-grasping something, she opened her arms and carried them back against
-her heart while her whole frame trembled.
-
-Then the miracle held her spell-bound:
-
-_She had been saved from the irretrievable step; she had been plucked
-back from the rock's edge_.
-
-Slowly, slowly the dry heart-flames subsided. As mists rose from the
-ground in summer after the heat and fever of the day, so something pure
-as childhood, sweet as the aspirations of early youth, rose from the
-depths of her soul. All the treachery, all the longing of purely
-selfish love was annihilated. It was one of those crises when the
-heart sets wide its doors; when the emotion that was personal becomes
-universal.
-
-The shrubbery was alive with insects, murmuring gently; and amid the
-foliage of the trees, the birds were preparing to go to roost. They
-had reached those wistful days in late summer, which by the sea fade
-away in evenings of gold and rose, which fade away into the sea itself.
-A little wind set all the leaves astir. As she looked toward the sea,
-a wonderful serenity seemed to fall upon her from that radiant sunset
-sky, seemed to light on her like a benediction from the dying day.
-
-She turned her eyes in the direction of the gardener's cottage. Owing
-to a row of large trees and an intervening wall, barely more than its
-red pointed roof was visible. Buried in greenery, bathed in the calm
-light, it had, at this distance, an ethereal, unreal aspect, like a
-cottage seen in a picture. About it nothing stirred. But, as she
-looked, a trail of smoke appeared above a rear gable. This doubled
-angrily upon itself, then spread out in the still air like a fan. It
-became in an instant an all-enveloping sable mass crossed by licking
-tongues of red. In the midst of the sweet country, the cottage in
-utter silence was being destroyed, its burning but emphasizing the
-surrounding peace.
-
-Rachel's feet scarcely touched the stairs. She was out of doors and
-crossing the lawn without realizing her own movements. As she ran, she
-cried for help. But she recollected that all the servants were away.
-André had not been seen since the evening before; and, except for Emily
-Short asleep in a distant wing, the place was deserted. She had gone
-but a few steps when a cry of horror burst from her. _Annie_! Where
-was Annie? When not engaged in hanging about Emil while he worked, she
-was in the habit of visiting at the big house. But that day Rachel had
-not seen her. Then she recollected Emil's words about his wife's habit
-of taking a nap in the afternoon.
-
-"Annie!--wake up!--Fire!"
-
-Rachel's cries were confused. She was breathless, almost falling; but
-despite this excitement, the wonderful sense of peace that had come to
-her remained in her heart like a dove in its nest.
-
-She stumbled once as she crossed the lawn, and once her dress caught on
-a branch. She wrenched it free. Beyond the wall the longer, coarser
-grass impeded her steps and the rays of the setting sun, glancing
-across the grass, seemed coming to meet her.
-
-"Fire! Annie, fire!" she called.
-
-She was near enough to the cottage now to make out that its windows and
-doors were closed. She sprang up the path and the hot breath of flames
-struck into her face. She tried the door, it was locked; and she
-divined what had happened. Annie had feared to go to sleep with the
-cottage open; when Emil had started for the station, she had locked
-herself in.
-
-In a frenzy, Rachel beat upon the door with her flattened palms. The
-vine over her head was fluttering in a keen breeze and all its leaves
-were curling. She wrenched open the nearest blind and the slat already
-smoking, scorched her hands. This house of old and seasoned timbers
-was burning like paper. She climbed over the sill.
-
-Face down, with the skirt of her dress drawn over her head and across
-her mouth, she groped her way to the chamber. She felt along the bed;
-it was empty. Then out into the living room where the organ stood,
-with lurid flashes playing over its keys, she stumbled. And there,
-lying across the threshold, was something that yielded to her touch yet
-resisted it. Gathering Annie in her arms, folding her in a spread
-which she tore from a table, Rachel groped her way back to the window.
-The walls of the cottage seemed drawing together like the fingers of a
-hand about to close; but she scarcely felt the intense heat, was
-scarcely aware of the suffocating smoke, because of that emotion which
-was more than joy as it was more than peace.
-
-As she half-dragged, half-carried her insensible burden to the window,
-she felt the joy of that Freedom of which she had ever dreamed.
-
-Annie's head fell back lifeless, and her arms hung inert; but a slight
-shiver ran through her body, when, with a supreme effort, Rachel lifted
-her to the sill. For an instant she balanced her burden there; then,
-not knowing what she did, blinded by the smoke, the flames that all at
-once darted out upon her from every direction, she thrust the body
-through the window.
-
-She had a sense that it was received--that someone, in a frantic dear
-and well-known voice, called her name. She tried to follow, to
-struggle into the sweet air, where beyond the smoke and the flames, she
-knew the leaves were still dancing. But something heavy, inflexible,
-struck her head.
-
-She fell back into the darkness.
-
-
-Some minutes before the flames made their appearance above the
-surrounding trees, a sombre scene took place on a slight rise of ground
-at the rear of the cottage.
-
-As Ding Dong, carrying a pail of milk he had secured at a neighbouring
-farm, sauntered unsuspecting toward his master's dwelling, he felt
-himself seized from behind by the waist and shoulders; his arms
-grasped, bent, wrenched, his feet thrust from under him. Dumfounded,
-he sprawled on the ground with fingers of steel at his throat. Athwart
-a reddish haze he saw the livid countenance and bloodshot eyes of the
-young man who had made his appearance at Gray Arches a day or two
-before.
-
-With writhings and twistings, Ding Dong tried to wrap his assailant in
-sinewy arms, to close with him, to crush him in a mighty embrace; the
-other fought with the strength of desperation.
-
-Finally, pinning Ding Dong to the earth, André flung a look toward the
-cottage. The flames were now mounting above the trees. A savage joy
-distorted his face.
-
-He laughed.
-
-At the same instant Ding Dong, hurled him aside. Seeing the flames,
-the fellow started for the cottage with André after him, but he had
-gone but a short distance, when he halted and lifted his arm.
-
-A mournful procession was slowly crossing the open field in the light
-of the waning day and André, rigid, his head advanced, caught the
-flutter of a familiar dress, saw a deathlike face.
-
-The locked doors and windows had deceived him. Believing the cottage
-deserted, he had sought to destroy the organ which, in his blindness,
-he thought recommended the inventor to Rachel's favour; and he had
-destroyed instead the object of his own devotion--his own love.
-
-The flames leaping into the sky revealed all the impotence of that act
-of jealousy and revenge.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XII
-
-LOVE CONFRONTS DESPAIR
-
-"No, we might disturb her, and she appears to be resting quietly. In
-her case it's a little natural exhaustion. As for Mrs. Hart--the
-spine, I'm afraid. She rescued this one, I understand. Well, she paid
-the price. As for the young man, he couldn't have been in the water
-above half an hour. Yes, a tragedy."
-
-The steps, which had merely paused at the door, passed on.
-
-Annie sat up in the bed.
-
-It was true then; that strangled awakening, that battle with the smoke,
-Rachel's voice faintly heard. In her dream--or what she had been
-striving to believe a dream--Rachel had saved her; and the dream was
-truth.
-
-The impatient, not quite friendly Rachel throwing her own life away to
-save hers! Annie's stunned mind failed to grasp the novel vision. A
-lamp stood on a chair. Judging by the amount of oil remaining in the
-glass receptacle, the lamp had been burning there for many hours.
-Annie stared at the light; then, a little ball of misery and
-bewilderment, she wept against the pillows.
-
-Presently the instinct awoke in her to find the one who was her natural
-comforter.
-
-Slipping from the bed, she stood up on her feet. At first she swayed
-dizzily. Then she managed to dress herself and quitted the room.
-
-She reached the lighted passage. The entire east wing of the house,
-she discovered, was brightly illuminated. She steadied herself against
-the wall and peered in the direction whence came a muffled sobbing.
-Outside Rachel's door Simon Hart stood with his face in his hands.
-
-"Oh be careful!" he implored as she approached.
-
-He had heard somewhere that in cases of injury to the spine the least
-jar to the patient was sometimes fatal. He looked at Annie without
-recognizing her and the tears which he made no effort to conceal,
-streamed down his face from his eyes which were filled with blank,
-inconceivable despair.
-
-At that moment the door of the chamber opened; a physician emerged.
-Simon caught him by the arms.
-
-"Is there no change, Doctor?"
-
-"Not yet. There--there, my poor fellow, have courage."
-
-"But I may go in for a moment? I don't ask to remain."
-
-"Yes, if you will be calm."
-
-"Oh, I will be calm, quite calm. You can trust me for that. But
-wait--this trembling--" And with his massive shoulders bent forward,
-Simon stole into the room.
-
-"What, you?" And the physician caught Annie's elbow.
-
-She looked at him.
-
-He released her.
-
-Between the muslin curtains, the night entered in its freshness. Every
-breeze bore tree odours, vine odours, flower odours. In the subdued
-light the bed gleamed an island of bluish white.
-
-They had placed Rachel on a flat mattress, not venturing even to braid
-her hair. Instead, those rich and heavy locks that of late had
-breathed so poignantly a youthful beauty and pride, were spread over
-the linen where they framed the poor pallid cheeks. As she lay on her
-back, the lines of her mouth appeared slightly accentuated. Her arms
-were laid straight to her sides. Never did Death more completely
-express detachment. At the bed's foot stood Emily Short, her apron to
-her lips. A nurse in a starched cap noiselessly altered the position
-of a screen.
-
-The thrilling brave act was apparent. Annie stood a figure abashed and
-small and unworthy.
-
-Simon was unable to restrain his sobs. The physician laid a hand on
-his shoulder and he obeyed as unquestioningly as a child. Bending over
-Rachel he kissed her forehead; then followed the doctor out of the
-chamber. Annie kept at their heels.
-
-The physician began to consult Simon about some matter and, unobserved,
-Annie passed them. She descended the stairs. Under the door of the
-front room there appeared a streak of light. She rapped: there was no
-answer; someone was in there who could not answer.
-
-Filled with a confused memory, conjured terrors, she hastened down the
-hall. Very carefully and with great difficulty she opened the heavy
-front door and stepped out on the porch. In the light that streamed
-from that east wing, she saw Emil. He was standing with his shoulders
-against a tree. Her impulse was to run to him; she checked it.
-
-Beneath his disordered mane his face was wild and haggard, and his
-eyes, raised to a certain window, were filled with an agony no tears
-had come to relieve. Occasionally his chest lifted with a sigh.
-
-Seized by the selfish anguish of love, Annie thrust out her chin.
-
-_He did not belong to her, he belonged to Rachel_! She had always
-suspected.
-
-The next instant, however, the memory of what was flashed before her
-and like a flame for which there is no fuel, jealousy died in her
-breast. And what remained? A disconcerted self that wept under its own
-examining eyes.
-
-"I never could have done what Rachel did," she thought forlornly; "I
-never could. And Emil knew she was different from me, he knew she was
-strong; and he loved her. I don't blame him," with a low catch of the
-breath,--"No, I don't blame him. How could he help it?"
-
-Hour after hour, sick and weak, she clung to a pillar of the porch
-conscious only of an intensified confusion, a profound loneliness.
-Gradually, as she listened to those long deep sighs, she ceased to
-think of herself and longed to console Emil. But henceforth he must
-hate her as the cause of Rachel's death. The realization sent her into
-deeper shadow.
-
-So they stood within a few yards of each other and only when dawn began
-to show faintly over the water, did Annie enter the house.
-
-She saw no one from that east wing but the doctor, who took her wrist,
-feeling the pulse.
-
-"Not the thing yet," he said, "though a decided improvement over
-yesterday. But you must show a better face than this."
-
-She asked after Rachel.
-
-He pretended to consult his watch.
-
-She stepped in front of him, "Is there any chance for her, Doctor?"
-
-He met her eyes then gravely. "There is about one chance in a hundred
-of her recovery; but go and get something to eat. You will find the
-servants about. I am going to the city now; I shall be back again on
-the noon train."
-
-Annie went to the kitchen; she found the cook who gave her steaming
-coffee. She did not drink the coffee, but carried it through the house
-and out into the garden. She understood that Emil, fearing to betray
-his grief, had moved away at the doctor's approach. She went to the
-tree by which he had been standing and placed the coffee on the grass.
-
-A few moments later he returned. He did not notice the cup until he
-had upset it; then he stared at the stupidly rolling china, and
-immediately struck off toward the beach.
-
-Obscurely afraid of bringing shame on her who was dying, he shunned
-everyone. He remained on the beach, alternately watching the house
-from a distance, and pacing up and down.
-
-At noon Annie ventured in the direction he had taken. He was no longer
-in sight. She went only a short way, then placed a basket of food
-where it could not escape his eye. Her preoccupation with her husband
-kept her from dwelling on more tragic matters.
-
-The next day, when she was taking his dinner to the shore, Emil spied
-her. She set down the basket hastily and started to run. But he
-beckoned to her and then called.
-
-She went to him, lifting up a suppliant face.
-
-His eyes as she drew near, held the look of an animal that consciously
-awaits slaughter:
-
-"How is she?"
-
-As she did not answer at once, not knowing how to say what she must
-say, he caught her shoulder in a grip that spoke the madness of
-torture. "_For God's sake, tell me!_" he almost shouted.
-
-"There is one chance in a hundred, Alexander," she said; "but there is
-one chance."
-
-His head went up and his hand dropped.
-
-Presently, with a convulsive breath:
-
-"I've been a coward. I've dodged the doctor--couldn't ask him." His
-hands clenched. "Does she suffer?" he asked, and swung a look on her.
-
-"No, she does not suffer," Annie answered. "She lies there very still
-as though she were asleep; and her husband stands outside the door and
-will not let anyone move in that part of the house. And in the front
-room, that strange young man who came the other day is lying dead. It
-seems he was sort of unbalanced, and it was he who set the fire; Ding
-Dong knows he did, for he tried to keep Ding Dong from giving the
-alarm. And then he drowned himself."
-
-But her husband was interested in no one but Rachel. Haggard and
-unkempt, he stared at the water.
-
-"I don't know anything about a God," he said slowly, "about a Creator,
-but if He--if she lives," he amended, "I'll take my oath to give her up
-as she plead with me to. I'll never trouble her again though it tears
-my heart out. I ask only that she shall live."
-
-"There is one chance, Alexander," Annie said bravely.
-
-He looked around at her; then took her hand.
-
-They sat down side by side and stared at the waves.
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER XIII
-
-THE ESCAPE
-
-Annie waved one hand aloft. When she spied her husband on the beach,
-she waved the other hand. Her movement suggested flying.
-
-"Conscious!" she cried, "she's conscious; she's going to get well!"
-
-Emil gazed at her as at an apparition. His knees bent, he dropped in a
-heap on the sand.
-
-Annie stooped to him: "It's life--life--life, Alexander!" she panted;
-"not death--life!"
-
-His arms went about his head.
-
-Annie knelt and put an arm around his heaving shoulders. She flung
-back her hair, lifting her face. "Life, life, life!" she whispered.
-
-And it was life.
-
-Early on the morning of the third day following the catastrophe, the
-doctor spoke cautiously of an improvement in the patient; there was
-unquestionably a favourable change. But it was only when Rachel
-followed the first vague opening of her eyes with a stirring of her
-hands, that he spoke heartily of recovery. No injury to the spine,
-that was clear. Merely a brain concussion, as he had hoped. But any
-excitement coming to her now--the doctor closed his medicine case with
-a snap.
-
-There was the difficulty. How to keep his wife in a state of perfect
-tranquillity, this was Simon's problem. Hour after hour his vigilance
-did duty in her chamber; but when they came, those questions of hers,
-so weak he had to lean to catch them, yet charged with eagerness, he
-knew not how to stem the tide.
-
-Her first word was of Annie. To Simon this question, after the long
-stillness, was like a star trembling out of complete black night. He
-could have wept on hearing her.
-
-"Is Annie safe?" she murmured, and followed the inquiry with a
-beseeching glance; "is she well?"
-
-Mindful of his task, he lifted an admonishing finger, while answering
-her strongly in the affirmative.
-
-"Annie," he said, "is safe and sound; she's as right as possible."
-
-She smiled up at him, a picture of peace and thankfulness. But a few
-moments later anxiety spoke in a soft contraction of her brow:
-"Emil--is he well?"
-
-"Yes, he's well; we're all well, and all of us in high spirits because
-of you, dear. But you must obey the doctor."
-
-Once more Rachel exhibited a face of repose; but almost immediately her
-eyes flew wide.
-
-"All?" she echoed, "you said all?"
-
-Simon repeated his words stoutly.
-
-"André too?"
-
-He bent his head with a stifled "yes."
-
-At something in his voice, she managed to lift herself, and as she
-looked at him a colourless and piteous smile came upon her lips.
-
-"Not André," she said.
-
-"Why do you say that?" and, settling her on the pillows, he affected to
-laugh at the fancy, but her changed aspect alarmed him.
-
-"Because of your face, because I did not see André after--" Her
-features seemed hidden beneath a veil of dumb suffering. Then her
-whole countenance shut on a thought; an immense concentration chained
-her. Directly she felt for his hand.
-
-"André is still here?" she asked.
-
-"Yes."
-
-"May I see him?"
-
-Simon's look wavered and his eyes sank under hers. His attempt to
-deceive was manifest, plain as the Writing on the Wall.
-
-"Oh not now," he said, striving for an air that should restore her
-confidence, "you can't see anyone now, you know."
-
-But her suspicions were past allaying, though she swerved swiftly to
-another question.
-
-"The fire," she demanded. "Do they know what caused the fire?"
-
-"Oh, some carelessness, doubtless. Mrs. St. Ives may have dropped a
-match."
-
-Once more Rachel half lifted herself. She shook her head, scanning him
-fixedly.
-
-"Annie was asleep--the cottage locked. Simon, is it known who set that
-fire?"
-
-He gasped, unable to believe the astonishing thing: she was actually
-taking the facts from his mind. He opened his lips, but she needed no
-answer.
-
-"Oh," she whispered, on a long breath, "I understand. And _now_--now
-where is he?" and her fingers closed on his convulsively. "_Now?_"
-Her voice rose.
-
-Helplessly Simon met her look and his jaw hung.
-
-"He is dead," she said, and relaxed her hold.
-
-Seeing that she had guessed all through the marvellous second-sight of
-love, Simon told her the story briefly, striving, however, to lessen
-its sadness by relating it in a voice soothing as the ripple of a
-stream.
-
-"And directions came to-day from the mother," he concluded, "so St.
-Ives can start with the--the boy, to-morrow morning early. There's a
-milk train passes through here at five; it will be flagged. In that
-way St. Ives will make good connections. As for Mrs. St. Ives--"
-Simon might have been telling her any news, save that he hastened his
-speech a little as he struck into this new subject--"she goes along
-too. She will stop in the city, however, for the John Street place is
-all ready for occupancy and it seemed wisest-- My darling Rachel! my
-own reasonable brave girl!" he cried. "You know you always said the
-lad was not quite right mentally and he certainly had that air; the
-servants all remarked it."
-
-From her closed eyes, over her white cheeks, her tears rolled steadily.
-"Poor, poor André," she whispered.
-
-She knew--she guessed all. She remembered praising the organ
-attachment to André. And later he had witnessed that mad meeting
-between her and Emil in the garden. As she imagined the boy, lost,
-wandering, inflamed with jealousy; remorse intolerable and overwhelming
-filled her. She had driven him to the desperate act.
-
-Never the less Simon's gravest apprehensions were relieved. Almost
-with the first glimmer of returning consciousness she had divined the
-truth and it had not wrecked her, for after that first rain of tears,
-the strange and lofty look of peace returned to her face. André had
-been unhappy; now he was no longer so. His need of her guidance had
-been imperative; now that need no longer existed. Dear heart, dear,
-simple, clinging soul! And the comforting comparison struck her of a
-little lost child with its hand safely locked at last in the hand of
-the All-Father.
-
-She spoke no more until evening; then, as if pursuing a subject that
-had just been mentioned:
-
-"And Emil will go with him? He will see André's mother?"
-
-"Yes, dearest."
-
-"And he will tell her the truth? For you must explain to Emil, Simon,
-that he need not hide the truth from Lizzie. Any fiction about André
-she'd see through: she's his mother. And Emil is to say that I will
-write and that soon I will come."
-
-"Yes, he will tell her."
-
-"And before they start, Emil and Annie,--they will come here?"
-
-She was so bent on seeing them it seemed unwise to oppose her.
-
-When Simon leaned over her bed in the morning, he knew from her
-expression that she was alert to the muffled commotion below stairs--to
-those sharp hammerings, those stealthy treads, those
-silences--throbbingly alert, although there was no diminution in the
-radiance of her eyes.
-
-"They have come, dearest," he said, and left the room.
-
-Emil and Annie came forward. Never before at any time had they seen
-Rachel as she appeared to them now. The courage of her strong young
-face was mingled with a look of unutterable sweetness. She reached a
-hand to each.
-
-Instantly Annie was on her knees and Rachel had her head in the curve
-of a feeble arm. She pressed Annie's head to her breast with fingers
-tremulous with blessing as a mother's. They said nothing--no words
-were needed.
-
-Rising, Annie stole to a distant window.
-
-Rachel had kept her hold on Emil. Now once more she looked at him with
-a smile that expressed more love than she had ever shown him before.
-Such complete, such utter tenderness, he had never dreamed eyes could
-hold. And yet in those soft depths so earthly-sweet, he saw
-renunciation shining through devotion.
-
-He blanched.
-
-In a voice in which there was a tremour she could not control, Rachel
-spoke of his work and of herself as watching his progress with
-eagerness.
-
-"For I long, I long more than you can realize to have you make the best
-possible use of your life. I have set my hopes on you, such high
-hopes, Emil; and you will not disappoint me."
-
-Finally, panting a little but with electrical energy, with exquisite
-passionateness, she spoke of the open vision of love. "It is," she
-said, letting her eyes dwell wistfully in his, "the forgetting of
-ourselves and--and the abandonment of our self-seeking. This is the
-soul's way out. And it is the only way out," she insisted.
-
-At first he did not understand, but gradually as he listened, helpless
-in his grief, her words opened out before him like a pathway that led
-somewhere into peace.
-
-He looked down at her, his eyes flaming as if all his life had
-centralized and focused within them. Then he bent and laid his
-forehead on her arm.
-
-What with weak souls requires time, even long years, powerful natures
-achieve at once. In the silence Emil's oath was fulfilled.
-
-Summoning Annie, Rachel kissed her; and the other, with timid
-impulsiveness, slipped a little hand in that of her husband. So they
-left Rachel. But at the door they turned. She was still gazing after
-them with a mute, almost mystic concentration. Meeting their look,
-however, she suddenly smiled and in her eyes was the splendour of some
-newly-discovered truth.
-
-Something she had long wished for had been gained. She felt a sense of
-supreme restfulness and this sense deepened and increased even as she
-lent an ear to the sound of the wheels on the gravel, those wheels that
-were carrying from her, through the stillness of the morning world, the
-two who had loved her wildly and whom she had loved.
-
-When Simon returned, he found her leaning on her elbow. The nurse had
-carried out the night-lamp and the chamber was filled with a wan
-half-light.
-
-"The box, Simon, will you hand it to me?"
-
-He did not know at first to what she referred; his brow flew up in
-wrinkles: then he brought the little Swiss clock from its place on her
-dressing-table.
-
-"Now wind it," she said.
-
-He wound the pretty plaything, and placed it on her raised knees.
-
-Lying back on her pillows, her hands folded across her breast, Rachel
-listened to the tiny bird, and as she listened, a little, tender,
-understanding smile touched her lips.
-
-When the golden shell had closed over the performer she looked up at
-her husband:
-
-"Its song is the song of freedom, isn't it?"
-
-But for Simon these words had no meaning. He had not slept for several
-nights, and as he replaced the box in its former position, he stumbled.
-He took a chair beside the bed and his head sank. Lower and lower it
-sank until it rested on the pillow beside hers. She laid her hand on
-it.
-
-And ever the day waxed stronger. Now as the mist began to lift, the
-wild birds awoke in the garden. Here and there from a tree sounded a
-tentative chirp. The air moved in currents of keener freshness.
-Everything breathed of the dawn. Rachel turned her eyes to the sea and
-on her face was the light of her inner vision.
-
-Thus Love solves all the problems that torture the soul of man; through
-beauty and through silence, it speaks to the heart of a Freedom beyond
-all its earthly dreams.
-
-
-
-THE END
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bird in the Box, by Mary Mears
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