The Hundredth Chance

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THE SACRIFICE

  He lifted her. She knew that he lifted her, but all her powers weregone. She hung, a dead weight, in his arms.

  Over her head she heard his voice, intensely quiet but deeper thanusual; she thought it held a menacing note.

  "I'll take her to the window. Thanks, I'm not wanting any help fromyou."

  She felt the strength of the man as he lifted her bodily, and bore heracross the room. He set her down upon the window-seat, supporting herwith the utmost steadiness while he opened the window. The wintry airblew in upon her, and she shivered and came to life.

  "Don't move!" he said.

  The awful weakness was still upon her; she obeyed him because she had nochoice, lying back against his arm in quivering submission.

  "I'm--so sorry," she whispered at length. "I--I never did anything sostupid before."

  "That so?" said Jake.

  She lifted her eyes with a piteous effort to his. "Please leave me now!I shall do quite well--by myself."

  "That so?" he said again.

  His eyes held hers with a piercing, straight regard; but after a momenthis hand came up and rubbed her icy cheek. It was a small act, but itaffected her very curiously. She turned her face quickly to hide a rushof tears.

  Jake's attitude changed on the instant. He stooped over her, his armabout her. "Say, Maud, my girl, what is it? What is it?" he said. "Thelittle chap will be all right. Don't you worry any!"

  The old kindness was in his voice; he held her to him just as he hadheld her on the morning that she had first gone to him for help. Forthe moment she yielded herself, scarcely knowing what she did; then sherealized his nearness and began to draw herself away.

  "I am foolish," she whispered, "just foolish. Don't take any notice!"

  "Guess you're worn out," he said gently.

  She shook her head, striving to master herself. "No, it's not that. Itisn't anything. Please leave me alone for a little! I would rather."

  He let her go, but he still remained beside her, looking down at herbent dark head. She leaned against the woodwork of the window, pantinga little.

  "I am better," she said uneasily, after a moment. "Please don't worryabout me any more!"

  "Who else should I worry about?" he said. "Do you suppose you aren'tfirst with me every time?"

  She quivered at the question, but she made no attempt to answer it.

  He went on with a restraint that was somehow eloquent of vehemencesuppressed. "I know well enough that you aren't happy with me. It'snot in nature that you should be. Maybe it's my fault too; maybe it'snot. I've been a damn' fool; I know that. But even so, you've no callto be afraid of me. You won't come up against me if you play a straightgame."

  He paused, and she saw his hands slowly clench. At the same moment shebecame aware of someone approaching, and turned her head to see Saltashcoming towards her with a wine-glass in his hand.

  "Oh, that's right; you're better," he said. "Here, Bolton! Make herdrink this! It'll put a little life into her."

  He gave the glass to Jake who stood a moment as if undecided as to whatto do with it, then bent over Maud.

  She drew back. "Oh no, thank you! I never drink brandy. Besides, I amquite well again now."

  She made as if she would get up to demonstrate this fact, but he stoppedher. "Take a little!" he drawled. "Lord Saltash has had the trouble offetching it."

  "I would rather not," she said. "I would much rather not."

  "Let her please herself!" said Saltash sharply.

  But Jake's hand, steady as rock, was already holding the glass to herlips. She drank as one compelled.

  Saltash fidgeted up and down in front of the window in evidentdissatisfaction, his ugly face full of lines. "I am infernally sorrythis has happened," he said. "You ought to have had the stuff sooner.I wish I had ordered champagne. We'll have some presently. Ah, that'lldo, Jake, that'll do! Don't force it on her, for Heaven's sake! Lookhere, you and I will clear out now, and let her rest in front of thefire. You'd like that, Maud, wouldn't you?"

  Maud murmured an affirmative.

  "Sure?" said Jake.

  She looked up at him. "Yes; but not too near the fire. And--and leavethe door open. I want to hear--to know--" Her voice failed, sank intosilence.

  "All right," Jake said quietly. "I'm not leaving you till it's over."

  The calm decision of his speech silenced all protest. Maud attemptednone. Saltash shrugged his shoulders and flung round on his heel. Jakebent to offer a steady arm.

  She accepted his support in silence. There was that about him thatwould not brook resistance just then. She was sure that Saltash wasaware of it also, for after a very brief pause he began to whistle underhis breath and in a very few moments more sauntered from the room.

  Jake, very quiet and determined, led her to a settee.

  "I won't lie down," she said restlessly. "I want to listen."

  Jake was looking round for a chair. Failing to see one, he seatedhimself by her side. "I reckon this is the most respectable piece offurniture in the place," he observed. "Here is a cushion. Lean back andshut your eyes!"

  "I wish you wouldn't wait here," she murmured uneasily.

  "I've got to wait somewhere," said Jake.

  And then his hand descended upon hers and held it.

  She started at his touch, seeking instinctively to free herself, but inthe end she yielded, lying back in a tense stillness in which she knewthe beating of her heart to be clearly audible.

  What was he going to say to her? What had he overheard? What must hethink of the agitation she had displayed upon discovering him?

  Her breath quivered through her parted lips. The dread of the nightbefore was upon her, but ten times magnified by her present weakness andthe thought of that which he might have overheard.

  But Jake sat in unbroken silence, his hand holding hers in a steady,purposeful grasp; and gradually, very gradually, her fear began tosubside. He could have heard nothing! Surely he could have heardnothing! Surely, if he had, he would have spoken, have questioned--oraccused!

  A great shiver went through her.

  "Cold?" said Jake.

  She opened her eyes. "No."

  His hand closed more firmly about her own. "Don't be so anxious!" hesaid. "It'll be all right."

  His voice was kind, she tried to smile.

  "Was he--was he very nervous?" she asked, finding relief in speech.

  "Game all through," said Jake. "Went off like a baby. Say, Maud, he'llbe a fine man some day."

  "He'll never be mine any more," she said, and turned her face aside.

  Jake said nothing. He fell into a musing silence that seemed to stretchand widen to an unknown abyss between them. She closed her eyes, hopingthat he would think her sleeping.

  He remained absolutely still by her side while the silence lengthenedand deepened. She wondered for a while if ha were watching her,wondered if he were actually as free from anxiety on Bunny's account ashe appeared, became finally vaguely aware of a curious hushed sense ofrepose stealing over her tired nerves. She drifted away at last into astate that was not quite slumber, that yet held her trance-like andunaware of time. She knew that Jake was beside her, never wholly forgothis presence, but he had ceased to have a disquieting effect upon her.Somehow he fitted into the atmosphere of peace that surrounded her. Shewas even dimly glad that he had not left her alone. She was tired,unutterably tired, but her mind had ceased to work at the problems thatso vexed her soul; it had become as it were dormant. Even the thoughtof Bunny did not disturb her any more. Had not Dr. Capper solemnlydeclared that all would be well?

  So she sank into an ever-deepening sea of oblivion, unmindful of thehand that so surely held her own; and so that long, long hour crept by.

  When there came at last the opening of a door and the sound of voicesshe was too far away in her me
rciful dreamland to hear. She knew in avague fashion that Jake's hand left hers, even murmured a faint protest,but she did not attempt to rouse herself. She had yielded toocompletely to the healing magic of rest.

  There followed a space during which all consciousness was entirelyblotted out and she slept like a weary child, a space that seemed tolast interminably, and yet was all too short. Then at length nature orconscience stirred within her, and her brain began to work once more.Out of a vague obscurity of dimly registered impressions the light ofunderstanding began to dawn. She opened heavy eyes upon the red, stillfire that burned so steadily, so unfailingly. It put her in mind ofsomething--that hot, silent fire--but she could not remember what itwas; something that was vigilant, intense, unquenchable, something thatshe could never wholly grasp or wholly elude.

  She opened her eyes a little wider, and moved her head upon the cushion.Surely she had slept for a long, long time!

  And then she caught the sound of a voice that whispered--a low, clearwhisper.

  "Why don't you take her for a honeymoon, my son? It would do you bothall the good in the world."

  There was a pause, and then someone--Jake--murmured somethingunintelligible. Maud raised herself slightly and saw him standingbefore the fire. His thick-set figure was turned from her. His headleaned somewhat dejectedly against the high mantelpiece.

  Capper was standing beside him, lounging against the carved wood in anungainly attitude, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. At Jake'smuttered words he turned and looked at him keenly, with eyes ofsemi-quizzical sympathy.

  "Say, Jake," he said, "the man who walks his horse along a hedge-sidenever gets there. The hedge has a way of getting higher, moreover,every step he goes. Guess being in love has kind of demoralized you.You'll never win out this way."

  Jake moved a little, straightened himself, stood squarely facing thegreat doctor. "I'm going to win out," he said; and with that veryabruptly he wheeled round and came straight to Maud, as though she hadcalled him.

  So sudden was his movement that she was taken wholly by surprise. Hestooped over her and took her hand before she had time to draw back.

  "It's all right, my girl," he said, and she heard a note of reassurancein his voice. "The little chap's come through it finely. There'snothing to be anxious about. Capper says so; and whatever Capper saysgoes."

  "Guess that's so," said Capper. He remained at his post by the fire, asmile of keen satisfaction on his parchment face. "You shall see himpresently; not yet, not for another hour, and then only for a fewseconds. He's got to be kept as quiet as an infant. But I've done justwhat I figured to do. In another six weeks he ought to be learning towalk."

  "Bunny--walking!" Maud spoke the words as one dazed. The whole of herworld seemed suddenly to have changed. It was as if she actuallybreathed a new atmosphere. She caught her breath, feeling half afraid."Is it--is it true?" she said.

  Capper laughed. "Seems like a miracle, does it? Never met with amiracle before? Yet there's quite a lot of 'em to be seen in thiscurious old world. Maybe you'll come across some more, now you'vestarted."

  He came quietly to her, bent and took her free hand into his. She felthis thin, sensitive fingers press her pulse.

  "I'm quite well indeed," she said in a tone of protest. "Please tell memore about Bunny. I want to hear everything."

  "My dear lady, you know practically all there is to know," he madeanswer. "Bunny is going to be one of my proudest successes. Butthere's just one thing to be arranged, I want to have him under my owneye for a time. It's for his own good, so I know your consent is aforegone conclusion. No, not yet of course. I will give him a monthhere, and then I want to fetch him up to London and keep him in a Homethere belonging to my colleague Sir Kersley Whitton until I am able todischarge him as cured. Will you agree to that?"

  His eyes, shrewd and kindly, looked down into hers. His hand still heldher wrist. She felt the magic of his personality, and found it hard toresist.

  But, "To take him away from me!" she said rather piteously. "Must youtake him away?"

  Jake had withdrawn a little as if he did not wish to take part in theconversation. Capper sat down beside her.

  "Mrs. Bolton," he said, "I guess that young brother of yours is just oneof the biggest factors of your existence. Isn't that so? You'd doanything for him, and never count the cost. Well, here's something youcan do for him, a mighty big thing too. It'll be a very critical time,and I want to have him under my own eye. I also want to have completecontrol of him. I'm not hinting that your influence isn't good. I knowit is. But, for all that, he'll do better with comparative strangersduring that critical time than he would with his own people. I want tolift him entirely out of the old ruts. I want to start him on anentirely new footing, to give him self-reliance, to get him into good,wholesome habits. It'll make all the difference in the world to him orI shouldn't be urging it so strongly. Say, now, you promised me yourco-operation, you are not going to refuse?"

  She could not refuse. She realized it with a leaden heart. Yet she madeone quivering attempt to pierce through the ever-narrowing circle.

  "But the cost," she said.

  "It won't cost you a single cent," said Capper. "It's just for myprivate satisfaction that it will be done."

  Her last hope faded. She made a little gesture of helplessness. "He isin your hands, Doctor," she said. "I--I am much more grateful to youthan I seem."

  Capper's hand pressed hers. "You will never regret this sacrifice aslong as you live," he said, looking at her with his keen, kindly eyes."I'm even ready to prophesy that you'll one day reap a very considerablebenefit from it."

  But Maud's only answer was a dreary little shake of the head.