The Hundredth Chance

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE WAY OF ESCAPE

  The sun shone out again as they went down the hill, and the sea gleamedbelow them like a sheet of silver.

  "You like this place?" asked Jake.

  "I could like it," she made answer.

  He smiled. "Then I reckon you shall. Say, does Bunny know about yourcoming up here to me?"

  She coloured deeply. "He knew I came, yes. He did not know why."

  Jake was still smiling. "Guess he'll be pleased," he said. He added,between puffs at his pipe: "We'll make him happy between us. We'll givehim the time of his life."

  She drew a deep breath. Surely no sacrifice was too great for that!

  They passed the church on the hill, and descended the steep road to thetown.

  "There are some rooms I know of along this road," said Jake. "Kept bythe wife of one of our stable-men. Shall we go in and have a look at'em?"

  She hesitated. "Bunny will wonder where I am."

  He glanced at her. "Well, look here! You leave me to see to it. I'llfix up something, and then I'll come on after you and we'll get the boyaway."

  She met his look somewhat doubtfully.

  "Why not?" said Jake.

  She answered him with an effort. "You do understand, don't you, that Icouldn't--I can't--accept help from you before--before--our marriage?"

  "Why not?" he said again. "Reckon you mean to stick to your bargain?"

  "Oh, it isn't that," she said painfully. "Of course--of course--I shallkeep my word with you. But I have a little pride left--just alittle--and----"

  "And I'm to humour it, eh?" said Jake. "Well, you shall have it yourown way. But let me do the fixing for you! I know just what you want.It's only for a few days either."

  He smiled at her, and she yielded.

  But when they separated at length she paused uneasily. "Jake!"

  "Your servant!" said Jake promptly.

  She stretched a nervous hand towards him. "Jake, if you meet--mystep-father, you will not--not----"

  "Most unfortunately I can't," said Jake. He held her hand for a moment,and let it go. "There! Good-bye! I won't do anything indiscreet, Ipromise you. There is too much at stake. Now you get back to Bunny asquick as you can! I shan't be long after you."

  And Maud went with a feeling at the heart of relief and dread oddlymingled. She knew that Jake would keep his word. There was a rocklikestrength about him that nothing could ever shake. For good or ill, hewould stick to a bargain, be the price what it might. But she saw himoverriding every obstacle to attain his purpose. He would never flinchfrom possible consequences; of that she was certain. What he had saidhe would do, that he would do, and no power on earth would divert himtherefrom.

  She shivered suddenly and violently as she walked. The relentless forceof the man had in it an element that was terrible. What had she done?What had she done?

  She encountered her mother as she mounted the hotel stairs.

  "Oh, my dear, here you are at last!" was her greeting. "I have been soworried about you. Come into my room!"

  But Maud resisted her. "I must go to Bunny. He has been alone for solong."

  "No, dear, no! Bunny's all right for the present. I've been to see.He doesn't want anything. He told me so. Come into my room--just for amoment, dear child! We can't talk in the passage."

  As Mrs. Sheppard was plainly bent upon talking, Maud concluded she hadsomething to say; and followed her.

  "Shut the door, my darling! That's right. How white you look thismorning! Dearie, I am more sorry than I can say for what happened lastnight. Giles told me about it. But he says he is quite willing now tolet bygones be bygones. So you won't bear malice, darling; will you? Ofcourse I know he ought not to have done it," with a slightly uneasyglance at her daughter's rigid face. "I told him so. But he assured mehe only did it for your good, dear. And he seems to think that you wererather rude to him earlier in the day. He is old-fashioned, you know.He thinks a whipping clears the air, so to speak. It's better anyhowthan saving up grievance after grievance, isn't it, dear? You'll startafresh now, and be much better friends. At least it won't be his faultif you're not. He is quite ready to treat you as his own daughter."

  She paused for breath.

  Maud was standing stiff and cold against the door. "Is that what youcalled me in here to say?" she asked.

  Mrs. Sheppard still looked uneasy though she tried to laugh it off."Not quite all, dear. But I really should go and make friends with himif I were you. He isn't a bit angry with you any more. In fact he hasbeen joking about it, says his arm is so stiff this morning he canhardly use it. You couldn't possibly keep it up if you heard him."

  "I shall not hear him," said Maud.

  White and proud she faced her mother, and the latter's half-forcedmerriment died away.

  "Child, don't look so tragic! What is it? Come, he didn't hurt you sobadly surely! Can't you forgive and forget?"

  "No," Maud said. "I shall never do either. I am going away with Bunnyto-day. And I hope--with all my heart--that I shall never see his faceagain."

  "Going away?" Mrs. Sheppard opened startled eyes. "But, Maud----"

  "I am going to marry Jake Bolton," Maud said, her voice very deep andquiet. "He will take me and Bunny too."

  "Oh, my dear. That man!" Her mother gazed at her in consternation."He--he is infinitely rougher than Giles," she said.

  "I know he is rough. But he cares for Bunny. That matters most," saidMaud. "In fact, I believe he likes Bunny best!"

  "My dear, it's you he wants--not Bunny," said Mrs. Sheppard, with a rareflash of insight. "I saw that at the very beginning of things--at ourwedding-party. He looked at you as if he could devour you."

  Maud put out a quick hand of protest. "Mother, please! That doesn'tprove he cares about me--any more than I care for him. It--it's justthe way with men of his sort. He--he has been very kind, and he isgenuinely fond of Bunny, and--and--in fact it's the only thing to bedone. I can't--possibly--stay here any longer."

  Her lip quivered unexpectedly. She turned to go. But her motherintercepted her quickly, endearingly.

  "Maud, darling, wait a minute! I haven't finished. You took my breathaway. But listen a moment! This sacrifice won't be necessary, I amsure, I am sure. You couldn't marry that horsey creature. You wouldnever bear life with him. You are not adaptable enough nor experiencedenough. You could never endure it. It would be infinitely worse thanpoor Giles and his tantrums. No, but listen, dear! If you really feelyou must go, I think a way of escape is going to be offered to you andpoor little Bunny too. I have had a letter from your Uncle Edward, andhe is coming expressly to see you both."

  "Mother!" Maud almost tore herself free, gazing at her with that in hereyes that was to haunt Mrs. Sheppard for many days. "Oh, why, why, whydidn't you tell me before? When did the letter come?"

  "It was last night, darling. You were such a long way off--right at thetop of the house--and I was too tired to go after you--I meant to tellyou first thing, dear; but when I went to look for you after breakfast,you had gone. I am very sorry, but really it wasn't my fault. Still,you won't want to marry that vulgar person now, for I am sure your unclemeans to make provision for you. He can well afford it. He is verywealthy."

  But Maud resolutely put her mother's clinging arms away from her. "Jakeis not vulgar," she said in a voice that sounded flat and tired. "And Ihave promised to marry him. Nothing can make any difference to thatnow."

  "My dear! What nonsense! I will get Giles to talk to him. How can youdream of such a thing, you who might have married Lord Saltash--and mayyet! There is no knowing. Maud, dearest, you must be reasonable. Youmust indeed. This Jake Bolton may be a very excellent man, a veryworthy man, but as a husband for you he would be utterly unsuitable.Surely you can see that for yourself! I can't imagine what possessed youto entertain such an idea for a mome
nt. It was rank presumption on hispart to dare to lift his eyes to you. Why, my dear, if you were tomarry him your life would be an absolute thraldom. You mustn't think ofit, dear child. You mustn't indeed. Why, he is not much better than astable-boy. And his speech----"

  "He has spent a good deal of his time among cowboys." Maud was stillfirmly trying to disengage herself. "His speech is more or lessacquired. In any case--in any case--I have given him my promise. Andyou had better not let Mr. Sheppard interfere. It would be wise of himto keep out of Jake's way in fact. Jake knows exactly why I am preparedto marry him."

  "My dear! You actually made a confidant of that dreadful person! Howcould you?"

  "I wanted a man to protect me," Maud said very bitterly, "from thevindictive savagery of a brute!"

  "Maud! How can you talk so? And I am sure Jake Bolton is much more ofa brute than poor Giles. Why, look at the man! Look at his mouth, hiseyes! They absolutely stamp him. Oh, dear, you're very headstrong anddifficult. I begin to think Giles had some excuse after all. Perhapsyour uncle will be able to manage you. You are quite beyond me."

  Maud almost laughed. "When does he arrive?" she asked.

  "This evening. He has asked us to reserve a room for him." Mrs.Sheppard had speedily developed a proprietary interest in the managementof the hotel. Its welfare had become far more engrossing than that ofher children.

  Maud opened the door. "We shall be gone by that time. Jake's finding usrooms somewhere in the town."

  Mrs. Sheppard held up her hands. "Jake finding rooms! Maud!how--scandalous! How do you know--you don't know!--that he is to betrusted?"

  Maud made a brief gesture as of one who submits to the inevitable. "Itrust him," she said, with that in her voice that stilled all furtherprotest.

  And with the words she passed with finality out of her mother's room,and went away upstairs without a backward glance.

  Mrs. Sheppard sat down and shed a few petulant tears over her child'swaywardness. "She never would listen to advice," was the burden of herlament. "If she had, she would have been happily married to LordSaltash by now, and I might have had my house in London to-day. Ohdear, oh dear! Children are a bitter disappointment. They never can bemade to see what is for their own good. She'll rue the day. I know shewill. That trainer man has a will of iron. He'll break her to it likeone of his horses. My poor, proud Maud!"