_CHAPTER TWENTY_
"The evil at heart, when they wish to take, seem to give," said Abraham,mouthing the words with his withered lips, and he came to one of hisprophetic pauses.
The master of the Garden permitted it to the privileged old servant, whoadded now: "Benjamin is evil at heart."
"He did not ask for the horse," said David, who was plainly arguingagainst his own conviction.
"Yet he knew." The ancient face of Abraham puckered. "Po' white trash!"he muttered. Now and then one of these quaint phrases would breakthrough his acquired diction, and they always bore home to David a senseof that great world beyond the mountains. Matthew had often describedthat world, but one of Abraham's odd expressions carried him in a breathinto cities filled with men.
"His absence is cheaply bought at the price of one mare," continued theold servant soothingly.
"One mare of Rustir's blood! What is the sin for which the Lord wouldpunish me with the loss of Shakra? And I miss her as I would miss ahuman face. But Benjamin will return with her. He did not ask for thehorse."
"He knew you would offer."
"He will not return?"
"Never!"
"Then I shall go to find him."
"It is forbidden."
Abraham sat down, cross-legged, and watched with impish self-contentwhile David strode back and forth in the patio. A far-off neighingbrought him to a halt, and he raised his hand for silence. The neighingwas repeated, more clearly, and David laughed for joy.
"A horse coming from the pasture to the paddock," said Abraham, shiftinguneasily.
The day was old and the patio was filled with a clear, soft light,preceding evening.
"It is Shakra! Shakra, Abraham!"
Abraham rose.
"A yearling. It is too high for the voice of a grown mare."
"The distance makes it shrill. Abraham, Abraham, cannot I find her voiceamong ten all neighing at once?"
"Then beware of Benjamin, for he has returned to take not one but all."
But David smiled at the skinny hand which was raised in warning.
"Say no more," he said solemnly. "I am already to blame for hearkeningto words against my brother Benjamin."
"You yourself had said that he tempted you."
Because David could find no ready retort he grew angry.
"Also, think of this. Your eyes and your ears are grown dull, Abraham,and perhaps your mind is misted also."
He had gone to the entrance into the patio and paused there to wait witha lifted head. Abraham followed and attempted to speak again, but thelast cruel speech had crushed him. He went out on the terrace, andlooking back saw that David had not a glance for him; so Abraham wentfeebly on.
"I have become as a false prophet," he murmured, "and I am no moreregarded."
His life had long been in its evening, and now, at a step, the darknessof old age fell about him. From the margin of the lake he looked up andsaw Connor ride to the patio.
David, at the entrance, clasped the hand of his guest while he was stillon the horse and helped him to the ground.
"This," he said solemnly, "is a joyful day in my house."
"What's the big news?" inquired the gambler, and added: "Why so happy?"
"Is it not the day of your return? Isaac! Zacharias!"
They came running as he clapped his hands.
"Set out the oldest wine, and there is a haunch of the deer that waskilled at the gate. Go! And now, Benjamin, did Shakra carry you well andswiftly?"
"Better than I was ever carried before."
"Then she deserves well of me. Come hither, Shakra, and stand behind me.Truly, Benjamin, my brother, my thoughts have ridden ten times acrossthe mountains and back, wishing for your return!"
Connor was sufficiently keen to know that a main reason for the warmthof his reception was that he had been doubted while he was away, andwhile they supped in the patio he was even able to guess who had raisedthe suspicion against him. Word was brought that Abraham lay in his bedseriously ill, but David Eden showed no trace of sympathy.
"Which is the greater crime?" he asked Benjamin a little later. "Topoison the food a man eats or the thoughts in his mind?"
"Surely," said the crafty gambler, "the mind is of more importance thanthe stomach."
Luckily David bore the main burden of conversation that evening, for thebrain of Connor was surcharged with impatient waiting. His great plan,he shrewdly guessed, would give him everything or else ruin him in theGarden of Eden, and the suspense was like an eating pain. Luckily thecrisis came on the very next day.
Jacob galloped into the patio, and flung himself from the back of Abra.
David and Connor rose from their chairs under the arcade where they hadbeen watching Joseph setting great stones in place around the border ofthe fountain pool. The master of the Garden went forward in some angerat this unceremonious interruption. But Jacob came as one whose news isso important that it overrides all need of conventional approach.
"A woman," he panted. "A woman at the gate of the Garden!"
"Why are you here?" said David sternly.
"A woman--"
"Man, woman, child, or beast, the law is the same. They shall not enterthe Garden of Eden. Why are you here?"
"And she rides the gray gelding, the son of Yoruba!"
At that moment the white trembling lips of Connor might have told themaster much, but he was too angered to take heed of his guest.
"That which has once left the Garden is no longer part of it. For us,the gray gelding does not exist. Why are you here?"
"Because she would not leave the gate. She says that she will see you."
"She is a fool. And because she was so confident, you were weak enoughto believe her?"
"I told her that you would not come; that you could not come!"
"You have told her that it is impossible for me to speak with her?" saidDavid, while Connor gradually regained control of himself, summoning allhis strength for the crisis.
"I told her all that, but she said nevertheless she would see you."
"For what reason?"
"Because she has money with which to buy another horse like her gelding,which is old."
"Go back and tell her that there is no money price on the heads of myhorses. Go! When Ephraim is at the gate there are no such journeyings tome."
"Ephraim is here," said Jacob stoutly, "and he spoke much with her.Nevertheless she said that you would see her."
"For what reason?"
"She said: 'Because.'"
"Because of what?"
"That word was her only answer: 'Because.'"
"This is strange," murmured David, turning to Connor. "Is that one worda reason?
"Go back again," commanded David grimly. "Go back and tell this womanthat I shall not come, and that if she comes again she will be drivenaway by force. And take heed, Jacob, that you do not come to me again onsuch an errand. The law is fixed. It is as immovable as the rocks in themountains. You know all this. Be careful hereafter that you remember. Begone!"
The ruin of his plan in its very inception threatened Ben Connor. If hecould once bring David to see the girl he trusted in her beauty and hercleverness to effect the rest. But how lead him to the gate? Moreover,he was angered and his frown boded no good for Jacob. The old servantwas turning away, and the gambler hunted his mind desperately for anexpedient. Persuasion would never budge this stubborn fellow so used tocommand. There remained the opposite of persuasion. He determined on anindirect appeal to the pride of the master.
"You are wise, David," he said solemnly. "You are very wise. Thesecreatures are dangerous, and men of sense shun them. Tell your servantsto drive her away with blows of a stick so that she will never return."
"No, Jacob," said the master, and the servant returned to hear thecommand. "Not with sticks. But with words, for flesh of women is tender.This is hard counsel, Benjamin!"
He regarded the gambler with great surprise.
"Their fles
h may be tender, but their spirits are strong," said Connor.The opening he had made was small. At least he had the interest ofDavid, and through that entering wedge he determined to drive with allhis might.
"And dangerous," he added gravely.
"Dangerous?" said the master. He raised his head. "Dangerous?"
As if a jackal had dared to howl in the hearing of the lion.
"Ah, David, if you saw her you would understand why I warn you!"
"It would be curious. In what wise does her danger strike?"
"That I cannot say. They have a thousand ways."
The master turned irresolutely toward Jacob.
"You could not send her away with words?"
"David, for one of my words she has ten that flow with pleasant soundlike water from a spring, and with little meaning, except that she willnot go."
"You are a fool!"
"So I felt when I listened to her."
"There is an old saying, David, my brother," said Connor, "that there ismore danger in one pleasant woman than in ten angry men. Drive her fromthe gate with stones!"
"I fear that you hate women, Benjamin."
"They were the source of evil."
"For which penance was done."
"The penance followed the sin."
"God, who made the mountains, the river and this garden and man, He madewoman also. She cannot be all evil. I shall go."
"Then, remember that I have warned you. God, who made man and woman,made fire also."
"And is not fire a blessing?"
He smiled at his triumph and this contest of words.
"You shall go with me, Benjamin."
"I? Never!"
"In what is the danger?"
"If you find none, there is none. For my part I have nothing to do withwomen."
But David was already whistling to Glani.
"One woman can be no more terrible than one man," he declared toBenjamin. "And I have made Joseph, who is great of body, bend like ablade of grass in the wind."
"Farewell," said Connor, his voice trembling with joy. "Farewell, andGod keep you!"
"Farewell, Benjamin, my brother, and have no fear."
Connor followed him with his eyes, half-triumphant, half-fearful. Whatwould happen at the gate? He would have given much to see even from adistance the duel between the master and the woman.
At the gate of the patio David turned and waved his hand.
"I shall conquer!"
And then he was gone.
Connor stared down at the grass with a cynical smile until he feltanother gaze upon him, and he became aware of the little beast--eyes ofJoseph glittering. The giant had paused in his work with the stones.
"What are you thinking of, Joseph?" asked the gambler.
Joseph made an indescribable gesture of hate and fear.
"Of the whip!" he said. "I also opened the gate of the Garden. On whoseback will the whip fall this time?"