The Delafield Affair

  CHAPTER XXIV

  THE HEAVENS OPEN

  Conrad and Lucy rode along a street skirting the brow of the _mesa_until the houses of the town in the valley below became few andstraggling. Down the last roadway cut across the sides of the canyonthey descended to the bottom of the ravine. Thence upward it was sonarrow that the bed of the creek and the road left only scant margins ofrocky soil. In these grew cottonwoods, willows, and a few other trees,whose overarching branches made a green and pleasant vista. The creekwound crookedly down the valley, frequently crossing the road, whilehere and there the walls of the gulch drew so close together that thetrack was forced into the bed of the stream. Notwithstanding the recentrains, the water was too shallow to reach above their horses' knees.

  The way was quite deserted, and after leaving the town they saw no othertravellers. A cool, damp wind came down the ravine and Lucy took offher hat and let it toss back her brown curls. They had grown longersince the early Spring, and now clustered in soft rings around her earsand neck. A touch of sadness lingered upon her spirits, because of thedistressing scene with Miss Dent. It was the first difference that hadever arisen between them. A poignant longing filled her heart, also,because this was to be her final interview with the man she loved. Thepainful duty she had set herself filled the background of herconsciousness and laid upon her manner an unusual reserve.

  But these more sombre emotions mingled with the gladness of theknowledge that she was beloved, and all combined to invest her with anew maturity of womanliness, a sweet dignity that sent filtering throughConrad's eager love a sensation of wonder and reverence. It could not bepossible that this lovely, this adorable being would receive his homage,would consent to love him! But he would try. She was willing to ridewith him, and there was hope in that. And, yes, he would not forget thathe must tell her about his unworthy life--he must tell her even beforehe asked her to marry him. But oh, how beautiful she was, how sweet!Every movement of her head, her arm, her body, every twinkling smile,every fleeting dimple, poured fresh wine into his blood. A torrent oflove and admiration was sweeping through him, and from it wereconstantly breaking off and flowing over their friendly talk littlecascades of compliment, of admiring speech, of sentences glowing withhints of his feeling.

  But Lucy quickly caught the trend of every one and turned it back withlaughing retort and merry speech. He could not get within her guard, andevery deft turn of her jesting, foiling replies made him only the moreeager. He forgot that he was going to make confession, forgot to watchthe dark clouds that were rising above the mountain tops, forgoteverything but this alluring creature, who grew more alluring everymoment, and yet would not let him loose the torrents of loving speech.And Lucy, in the sweet excitement of letting him say a little, and againa little, and then a little more, yet keeping up her guard and neverletting him reach the danger point, Lucy also forgot what she had meantto keep constantly in mind. Now and then duty put out a warning hand.But--the exhilaration of the present moment, the precious consciousnessof his love, the thrilling pleasure of this Cupid's dance--she could notgive it up so quickly. Presently she would tell him.

  Thus has it been Love's habit, ever since Love came to live in thisworld, to dance with happy and forgetful foot over volcanoes ready toengulf him in their fires, beneath clouds ready to drown him with theirpouring sorrows. No matter what the dangers, when the maid lures and theman pursues, Love knows only his own delight. So went Lucy and Curtis upthe beautiful canyon road, thrilling with the happiness that can be butonce,--before the first kiss has brushed away the exquisite bloom oflove,--forgetting alike the bonds they had put upon themselves and thedangers that lurked in the threatening storm.

  At last the darkening atmosphere caused Conrad to notice how high theclouds had risen. "I'm afraid there's going to be a bad storm, MissBancroft," he said, "and perhaps we'd better turn back. When we startedI didn't think it would rain before night, but those clouds are pilingup fast and they look as if they meant business. I'm sorry, for a littleways above here there's a beautiful place, where the walls of the canyonspread out and you get a splendid view. I wanted to take you there, andtell you--" It was not so easy after all, to loose the torrents ofspeech, and for a bare instant he hesitated. It was enough to give Lucyher chance.

  She shot at him a single sparkling glance, and broke in with, "Oh, I'llrace you there!" As she spoke she touched her horse and darted ahead,leaving him alone in the middle of the road at the very beginning of hisdeclaration. The wind blew her curls into a tangled frame for herlaughing face as she looked back over her shoulder. He quickly spurredBrown Betty forward, but she had got so much the start that it was somemoments before he was again at her side.

  "You took me by surprise," he said as they slowed their horses at thefoot of a steeper incline, "and handicapped me, or you wouldn't have gotso far away. When we go back I'll race you all the way down the canyon,if you like."

  "Agreed!" she laughed. "Wouldn't it be jolly to go at a gallop all theway down the canyon, from the mountains to Golden? But the poor horses!"

  "I think we'd better turn back, Miss Bancroft. I don't like the look ofthose clouds. It's going to be a regular deluge, I'm afraid. But first,I want to tell you--"

  "Oh, my hat! I've dropped it!" she exclaimed. Curtis leaned over easily,picked it up, and hung it on his own pommel. Her eyes were twinkling andthe dimples were playing hide-and-seek with a wilful little smile thathovered around her mouth. "So awkward of me," she said apologetically,"and how readily you picked it up! I wish I could do that! Do you know,Mr. Conrad, you've never given me those lessons in the cowboy's art,roping and riding and all that, you promised ever so long ago."

  "We'll begin them whenever you say the word. After I tell you--"

  "About that beautiful place? Oh, yes! Can't we go that far? I'd love tosee it!" She was bounding ahead again, but he was quickly beside her. Aquizzical look was on his face and a touch of mastery in his manner ashe leaned toward her and rested his hand upon her horse's neck.

  "Now, if you try to run away again," he said banteringly, "it's you whowill have the handicap!" She gathered up her bridle and with a touch ofher quirt wheeled her horse half way around and away from his detaininghand. The whim had seized her to start flying back down the road, "justa little way," she thought, "just to tease him." But as she turned shemet a glowing look that checked her impulse.

  "Lucy!" he was saying, and his voice lingered over her name like a softand warm caress, "Lucy! I love you. Will you be my wife?"

  It had come, the question she had meant not to let him ask, and at onceit sobered her spirits and brought back the remembrance of what she musttell him. Her head drooped until her brown curls half hid her crimsoningface, and her voice was low and troubled. "Indeed, Mr. Conrad, I cannever be any man's wife. My father needs me. I shall never marry, and Ishall stay with him as long as he lives."

  "I know how devoted you are to your father, Lucy--" he stopped, andrepeated her name as if he loved the sound of it it--"Lucy, and it is sosweet and beautiful that it makes me love you even more. Tell me, Lucy,do you love me?"

  The question took her unawares, and he saw her hand tremble. Shehesitated for a moment before replying, with dignity: "I have told youI could not marry you. Isn't that enough?" Unconsciously they had againheaded their horses toward the mountains and were walking slowly up thecanyon.

  "No, Lucy; it isn't enough!" he exclaimed eagerly. "Something tells methat perhaps you do care a little for me, and if you do I want to knowit--I must know it!"

  "I shall never see you again after to-day. You must be satisfied withthat," she replied, tossing her head and turning her face away from hisshining and pleading eyes.

  "How can I be satisfied--" he began, and the wind blew her hair as sheturned her head away and showed one little pink-tinted ear nestlingamong the curls. His gaze devoured it. "How can I," he went on, "whenyou--when you have such a beautiful ear!"

  "What difference does it make when we can never see each other
again?"Her manner was evasive and her speech hesitating, for she was tryinghard to bring herself to the point of telling him the fateful secret.

  "All the difference in the world! Lucy, sweetheart! Tell me if youcare!" He leaned toward her and took her wrist in his hand.

  "IT HAD COME, THIS QUESTION SHE HAD NOT MEANT TO LET HIMASK"]

  "You've no right to ask that question again! I shall say no more thanI have said already." She made an effort to release her arm, but hewould not relax his firm, though gentle and caressing, grasp.

  "Lucy, I would never beg for a woman's love, nor ask her to try to carefor me, if she didn't love me, of herself. But when the woman I lovewith all my heart won't deny that she loves me, then I must hear her sayin her own sweet voice that she does. Lucy, darling, tell me that youlove me!"

  She was trembling from head to foot, but she drew herself together withfresh determination and held her head up proudly as she answered,looking straight ahead: "I have told you that I shall never marry, andthat after to-day I shall never see you again. That must be enough, forI shall say no more."

  He let go her wrist, and she tapped her horse to a faster pace. She wasthinking intently, trying to frame in her mind the best words in whichto make her confession. Suddenly, over the top of a steep incline, theycame upon a wide and splendid view. The sides of the canyon seemed tomelt and flow back, giving far-ranging sight of the sombre purplemountains towering toward heaven and of the hills dwindling down intothe plain.

  "Lucy," he exclaimed, "here is the beautiful place of which I told you.I wanted to bring you here to tell you of my love, because this is themost beautiful spot I know. Lucy, darling, I love you with all my heart,and if you cannot deny that you love me, then it is my right, the rightof my love, to hear you say that you do. Never mind about not leavingyour father and meaning never to marry. We'll talk about thatafterward. Won't you tell me now that you do love me?"

  Her eyes dropped from the high and wide horizon to her horse's mane. Shetried to say, "I do not love you," but her heart rose in rebellion andforbade the untruth. She opened her lips, but no sound came from them.Curtis bent toward her, trying to take her hand, but she drew it away.With all her strength she was contending for her determination againstboth him and the traitor within her own heart. He leaned nearer,pleading in tones that were half loving command and half lovingentreaty, "Lucy! Lucy, love! Look up! Let me see your eyes, your dear,beautiful eyes!"

  Lucy clasped her hands together hard and bowed her head. He was bendingover her, his shoulder touching hers. She heard his voice, soft andrich with love, whispering, "Lucy, darling!" And suddenly, scarcelyknowing what she did, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes.Instantly his arms were about her, and he heard her murmuring, "I dolove you! Oh, I do love you!" He bent his ardent face to hers, butbefore their lips met she started away, freeing herself from hisencircling arms.

  "Stop!" she cried, putting out a forbidding hand, as she moved her horseaway. "You have made me tell you, against my will, that I love you. Nowyou must listen while I tell you who I am." There was a suggestion ofdefiance in the poise of her head and in the flashing of her eyes asthey looked squarely into his.

  "And you must understand," she went on, "that after I tell you this Iwant you to forget everything that has passed between us this afternoon,just as I shall do. For I am the daughter of Sumner L. Delafield!"

  In an instant his arms were about her again. "Lucy, dearest, you've toldme no news! I've known it since yesterday."

  She struggled to free herself. "But my father--you hate him--you--youwish to kill him--I heard what you said to him that day at your ranch,last Spring--and afterward I happened to find out who he is."

  A wave of crimson deepened the color of his sunbrowned face. "All thatis dead and buried," he said, "and I am ashamed of it, now. I want youto help me forget that I allowed such base thoughts to master me solong. I'm going to your father this afternoon to tell him that I haveforgiven the old debt, and everything else, and to ask him to forgiveme. My poor little girl! I never dreamed your dear heart was beingworried by that affair!"

  She let him fold her in his caress, whispering happily, "I knew all thetime you wouldn't do it--I knew you wouldn't hurt daddy, or anybody."

  A loud clap of thunder rolled and echoed over the mountains, and asplash of raindrops fell on their faces. Conrad looked at the denseblack clouds and at the gray veil dropping athwart the mountains, andturned to Lucy with alarm in his face. "We must start back at once andride down that canyon for all we're worth! This storm is going to be acorker, but maybe we can beat the worst of it. I've done wrong to bringyou so far--but I can't regret it now, sweetheart!"

  They started at a gallop down the long canyon road. The patter of bigdrops that had given them warning quickly increased to a steady, beatingdownpour that drenched them to the skin. An almost tangible darkness wassifting through the atmosphere. It filled the sky overhead, drifted downthe ravine, and seemed to settle, making a thick twilight under thearching trees. Blinding zigzags of lightning slashed the clouds andplayed through the middle air, and a terrific roar and boom and rattleof thunder kept up in the mountains behind them and echoed back andforth between the walls of the gulch.

  The creek was already rising, and each time they had to cross it theyfound its muddy torrent swifter and higher. The road was rocky, and inmany places had been made slippery by the rain, and there were frequentsteep inclines down which they dared not go at a rapid gait. They hadput behind them hardly more than a third of the distance when Conrad,looking backward, saw a cloud of inky blackness settle and drop upon theearth. A deep, booming sound mingled with a deafening clap of thunder.The ground trembled. The horses quivered with fright and darted forwardat a faster pace. Lucy saw Curtis's face blench in the half darkness.

  "What is it?" she asked, glancing backward anxiously.

  "That was a cloudburst," he answered in a tone that thrilled withcomprehension. "It struck back there, just this side of our beautifulspot, and a mountain of water will soon come tearing down behind us.We've got to ride like the wind! Perhaps we can make the first road thatcrosses the ravine, and you can go up there while I ride on and warn thetown."

  "No! I'll ride on with you."

  "I can't let you do that," was his swift reply. "Are you frightened,dearest?"

  "No," she answered in a steady tone; "I'm not frightened at all. And I'mgoing to ride on with you. It would be easy to die with you, if wemust--but I couldn't live without you, now."

  He bent toward her and touched her arm with loving reverence as theygalloped on at the swiftest speed possible. The horses needed neitherwhip nor spur, but with ears laid back and necks outstretched werefleeing down the dim canyon for their lives. As they bounded up a lowbank, where the road crossed the creek bed again, Lucy's horsestumbled, slipped, and fell with his forelegs doubled under him. He gavea scream of pain and terror. Lucy, freeing her foot from the stirrup ashe fell, jumped to one side. Curtis checked Brown Betty, leaned over,and grasped the girl around the waist. She helped him with an upwardspring, and as he lifted her to the saddle he shifted his own seat tothe back, and they galloped on, leaving the crippled horse to hiscertain fate.

  Behind them they could hear the booming, rattling roar of the avalancheof water that was sweeping down between the canyon walls. And presently,piercing through even its rumbling tumult and the crashing thunder, theyheard the death cry of the horse they had left behind, and knew that hehad been engulfed in the mountainous wave that was rushing toward themat a speed they could not hope to equal. Lucy trembled at the sound andnestled her head against Conrad's shoulder.

  As they neared the first road cutting across the gulch Curtis loweredhis head to Lucy's ear: "Sweetheart, we are almost at the first roadout. I can put you off and you can run up there and be safe."

  "No," she whispered back; "don't stop for an instant. Every second willmean many lives. I'm going with you to whatever end there is, and I'mnot afraid."

  Brown Betty's
flanks were steaming. The froth from her mouth flecked herneck and legs and body, to be quickly washed off by the drenching rain.Behind them they could hear, coming nearer and nearer, the fateful roarof the rushing waters. The canyon walls opened out, and, looming vaguelyin the dim light, they could see the first houses of the town. With fulllungs Conrad shouted at the top of his voice:

  "Run! A cloudburst! A cloudburst is coming! Run for your lives!"

  They dashed on, and the houses became more frequent. There were lightsin the windows, though it was little past mid-afternoon. Curtis,shouting his warning over and over, put the bridle in Lucy's hands anddrew his revolver. They were rushing down the main street, through themost thickly built portion of the town. Pointing upward, he added thenoise of pistol shots to his clamor. Men and women came to their doors,caught the meaning of his cries, heard the roar of the coming flood, andrushed out and up the side streets, shouting warnings as they ran.

  "My father--the bank--can we go so far?" asked Lucy breathlessly.

  "Yes--we'll call him," Conrad assured her, glancing back over hisshoulder. Behind them rose a din of shouts and yells and screams ofterror, mingling with the peals of thunder and the roar of the waters.The street was full of people running this way and that. And a littlefarther back, through the dusky light, he saw a brown, foaming wall ofwater, its crest topping the roofs of the houses, its front a mass ofhalf-engulfed trees and houses and pieces of lumber and arms and legsand bodies of men and animals that boiled up from its foot, tossed andwhirled a moment on its breast, and sank into the flood.

  Curtis ground his teeth together. They were still three blocks from thebank. "We'll never make it," he thought; "but we'll try!" His armgathered Lucy closer to his breast, his spur touched Brown Betty'sheaving flank, and with another loud shout of warning and an encouragingcry to the mare they darted on with a fresh burst of speed.