XXXI
TORRANCE RIDES AWAY
It was late at night, and Miss Schuyler, sitting alone in Hetty's room,found the time pass very heavily. She had raised her voice in warning whenthe cow-boys mounted the night Grant had ridden away with Hetty, and hadseen the fugitives vanish into the darkness, but since then she had had nonews of them, for while Breckenridge had arrived at Cedar the next day, incustody of two mounted men, nobody would tell him what had reallyhappened. Her first impulse had been to ask for an escort to the depot andtake the cars for New York, but she was intensely anxious to discoverwhether Hetty had evaded pursuit, and her pride forbade her slipping awaywithout announcing her intention to Torrance, who had not yet come back tothe Range. She felt that something was due to him, especially as she hadnot regained the house unnoticed when the pursuit commenced.
Rising, she moved restlessly up and down the room; but that in no waylessened the suspense, and sitting down again she resolutely took up abook, but she listened instead of reading it. There was, however, no soundfrom the prairie, and the house seemed exasperatingly still.
"You will have to shake this nervousness off or you will make a fool ofyourself before that man," she muttered.
She felt that she had sat there a very long while, though the clock showedthat scarcely an hour had passed, when at last there was a rattle ofwheels and a trampling of hoofs outside. The great door opened, and afterthat there was an apparently interminable silence, until Hetty's maid camein.
"If it is convenient, Mr. Torrance would like to speak to you," she said.
Flora Schuyler rose and followed the girl down the corridor; but her heartbeat faster than usual when the door of Torrance's room closed behind her.The stove was no longer lighted, and Torrance stood beside the hearth,which was littered with half-consumed papers, and Miss Schuyler, who knewhis precision in dress, noticed that he still wore the bespatteredgarments he had ridden in. But it was the grimness of his face, and theweariness in his pose, which seized her attention and aroused a curioussympathy for him. He glanced at her sharply, with stern, dark eyes.
"I have to thank you for coming, but I am going to talk plainly," he said."You connived at the meetings between my daughter and the rascallyadventurer who has married her?"
"They are married?" exclaimed Miss Schuyler in her eagerness, and the nextmoment felt the blood rise to her face as she realized that she hadblundered in admitting any doubt upon the subject. "I mean, of course,that I wondered whether Mr. Grant could have arranged it so soon."
"You seem to attach a good deal of importance to the ceremony," Torrancesaid, with a bitter smile. "Marriage is quite easy in this country."
Miss Schuyler was not deficient in courage of one kind, and she looked athim steadily. "I came down to speak to you because it seemed your due,"she said, "but I have no intention of listening to any jibes at myfriends."
Torrance made her a little half-respectful and half-ironical inclination."Then will you be good enough to answer my question?"
"Though most of the few meetings were accidental, I went with Hettyintentionally on two occasions because it seemed fitting."
"It seemed fitting that a girl should betray her father to the man whowanted to ruin him, supply him with the dollars that helped him in hisscheme, and, more than all, warn him of each move we made! Well, mystandard is not very high, but the most cruel blow I have had to bear wasthe discovery that my daughter had fallen so far."
The hoarseness of his voice, and the sight of the damp upon his forehead,had a calming effect upon Miss Schuyler. Her anger against the old man hadgiven place to pity, for she decided that what had passed would haveexcited most men's suspicions, and it was not in Hetty's defence alone shemade an effort to undeceive him.
"I am going to answer you plainly, and I think an examination of Hetty'scheque-book and the money she left behind will bear me out," she said."Once only did Hetty give Mr. Grant any dollars--fifty of them, I think,to feed some hungry children. He would not take them until she assured himthat they were a part of a small annuity left her by her mother, and thatnot one of them came from you. I also know that Mr. Grant allowed hisfriends to suspect him of being bribed by you sooner than tell them wherehe obtained the dollars in question. The adventurer dealt most honourablywith you. Your daughter twice disclosed your plans, once when Claveringhad plotted Grant's arrest, and again when had she not done so it wouldmost assuredly have led to the destruction of the cattle-train. Mr.Clavering came near making a horrible blunder on that occasion, and butfor Hetty's warning not a head of your stock would have reached Omaha."
Her tone carried conviction with it, as did the flash in her eyes, butTorrance's smile was sardonic. "You would try to persuade me Larry savedthe train out of goodwill to us?"
"He did it, knowing what it was going to cost him, to prevent the men heled starting on a course of outrage and lawlessness."
"And they have paid him for it!"
"I fancy that is outside the question," said Miss Schuyler. "Twice, whenevery good impulse that is in our kind laid her under compulsion, Hettywarned the man she loved, but at no other time did a word to yourprejudice pass her lips; and if she had spoken it Grant would not havelistened. Hetty was loyal, and he treated you with a fairness that none ofyou merited. You sent the Sheriff a bribe and an order for his arrest, andby inadvertence it fell into his hands. He brought it back here unopenedat his peril."
Torrance looked at her in astonishment. "He brought back my letter to theSheriff?"
"Yes. There was nothing else a man of that kind could have done."
Torrance stood silent for a space, and then, stooping, picked up ahalf-burnt paper from the hearth, glanced at it with a curious expression,and flung it into the embers. When it had charred away he turned to MissSchuyler.
"You have shown yourself a good friend," he said gravely. "Still, you mayunderstand the other side of the question if you listen to me."
He turned and pointed to an empty tin case, and the charred papers in thehearth. "That is the end of the plans of half a lifetime--and they wereall for Hetty. I had no one else after her mother was taken from me, and Iscraped the dollars together for her, that she should have what her heartcould wish for, and the enjoyments her parents had never known; and whileI did so I and the others built up the prosperity of the cattle country.We fed the railroads and built the towns, and when we would have rested,Larry and his friends took hold. You see what they have made of it--agreat industry ruined, the country under martial law, its commercecrippled, and the proclamation that can only mean disaster to us hung outeverywhere. My daughter turned against me--and nothing left me but to goout, a wanderer! Larry has done his work thoroughly, and you would have memake friends with him?"
Miss Schuyler made a little sympathetic gesture, for he seemed very jadedand weary. "No," she said. "One could not expect too much, but Hetty isyour daughter, the only one you have, and for her mother's sake you willat least do nothing that would embitter her life."
Torrance looked at her with a curious smile. "There is nothing I could do.Larry and the rabble are our masters now; but I will see her once before Igo away. Is there any other thing--that would be a little easier--I coulddo to please you?"
"Yes. You could release Mr. Breckenridge."
Torrance turned and struck a bell. "I had almost forgotten him. Will youwait and see me do what you have asked me?"
In a few minutes more Breckenridge was ushered in. He smiled at MissSchuyler, and made Torrance a slight, dignified salutation. Torranceacknowledged it courteously.
"You have yourself to blame for any inconvenience you have been put to,Mr. Breckenridge," he said. "You conspired to assist your partner in anundertaking you could not expect me to forgive."
"No," said Breckenridge. "I offered to ride with Larry, and he would nothave me. I went without him knowing it and made my plans myself?"
"This is the truth?"
Breckenridge straightened himself and looked at Torrance with a lit
tleflash in his eye. "You must take my word--I shall not substantiate it. Ifyou had had an army corps of cut-throats ready to do what you told themthat night, Larry would have gone alone."
Torrance nodded gravely. "It is taken. At least, you bluffed us intofollowing you."
"Yes," and Breckenridge smiled, "I did. I also prevented my companionshooting one of your friends, as he seemed quite anxious to do. I don'twish to hurt your feelings, sir, but I have not the least regret foranything I did that night."
"Then, you are still very bitter against me?"
Breckenridge considered. "No, sir. The one man I am bitter against isClavering. Now, it may sound presumptuous, and not come very well from me,but I believe that Clavering, for his own purposes, forced your hand, andI had a certain respect for you, if only because of your thoroughness. Yousee, one can't help realizing that you can look at every question quitedifferently."
Torrance smiled drily. "Then if you are not too proud to be my guestto-night, I should be glad of your company and will find you a horse totake you back to Fremont when it suits you."
Breckenridge, for some reason that was not very apparent, seemed pleasedto agree, but a faint smile just showed in Torrance's eyes when he wentout again. Then, he turned to Miss Schuyler.
"I wonder what Mr. Clavering has done to win everybody's dislike," hesaid. "You do not seem anxious to plead for him."
Flora Schuyler's face grew almost vindictive. "No," she said, "I don't. Ican, however, mention one thing I find it difficult to forgive him. Whenyou promised him Hetty he had found favour with her maid, and made themost of the fact. It was not flattering to your daughter or my friend. Hemay not have told you that he promised to marry her."
Torrance stared at her a moment, a dark flush rising to his forehead. "Youare quite sure?"
"Ask the girl," said Flora Schuyler.
Torrance struck the bell again, and waited until the maid came in. "Iunderstand Mr. Clavering promised to marry you," he said very quietly."You would be willing to take him?"
The girl's face grew a trifle pale, and she glanced at Miss Schuyler whonodded encouragingly.
"Yes," she said.
Torrance smiled, but Miss Schuyler did not like the glint in his eyes."Then," he said with incisive distinctness, "if you are in the same mindin another week, he shall."
The girl went out, and Torrance, who had watched her face, turned to MissSchuyler. "I guess that young woman will be quite equal to him," he said."Well, I am putting my house in order, and I will ride over once and seeHetty before I leave Cedar. You will stay here until she comes back toFremont, any way."
Miss Schuyler promised to do so, and stayed two days, as did Breckenridge,who eventually rode to Fremont with her. He was very quiet during thejourney, and somewhat astonished his companion by gravely swinging off hisbroad hat when they pulled upon the crest of a rise.
"I wonder if you would listen to something I wish to tell you," he said."The trouble is that it requires an explanation."
Flora Schuyler glanced at him thoughtfully, for she recognized thesymptoms now. Breckenridge appeared unusually grave, and there was alittle flush on his forehead, and a diffidence she had not hitherto seenthere, in his eyes.
"I can decide about the rest when I have heard the explanation," sheanswered.
"Well," said Breckenridge slowly, "I came out West, so to speak, because Iwas under a cloud. Now, I had never done anything distinctly bad, but myone ability seemed to consist in spending money, and when I had gotthrough a good deal of it my friends sent me here, which was perhaps alittle rough on your country. Well, as it happened, I fell in with men andwomen of the right kind--Larry, and somebody else who did more for me.That made a difference; and while I was realizing how very little I hadgot for the time and dollars I had wasted, affairs began to happen in theold country, and I should have the responsibility of handling a good manyof them if I went back there now. It sounds abominably egotistical, butyou see what it is leading to?"
Miss Schuyler, who had no difficulty on that point, regarded himthoughtfully. Breckenridge was a handsome young Englishman and she hadliked him from the first. Larry had fallen to another, and that perhapscounted for more than a little to Breckenridge; but she had seen more thanone friend of hers contented with the second best. Still, she sighedbefore she met his gaze.
"I think you must make it a little plainer," she said.
"Well," said Breckenridge quietly, "it is just this. You have done a gooddeal for me already, and I almost dare to fancy I could be a credit to youif you would do a little more, while it would carry conviction to my mostdoubting relatives if you went back to the old country with me. They wouldonly have to see you."
Flora Schuyler smiled. "This is serious, Mr. Breckenridge?"
Breckenridge made her a little inclination, and while in a curious fashionit increased Flora Schuyler's liking for him she recognized that he was nolonger the light-hearted and irresponsible young Englishman she had met afew months ago. He, too, had borne the burden, and there was a gravity inhis eyes and a slight hardening of his lips that had its meaning.
"I never was more serious in my life, madam," he said. "I know that Imight have spoken--not more respectfully, but differently--but when I amtoo solemn everybody laughs at me."
"Does it not strike you that you have only regarded the affair from onepoint of view so far?"
Breckenridge nodded. "I understand. But one feels very diffident when heknows the slight value of what he has to offer. I should always love you,whether you say yes or no. For the rest, there is a little land in the oldcountry, and an income which I believe should be enough for two. It seemsmore becoming to throw myself on your charity."
"And what would Larry do without you?" asked Miss Schuyler.
The quick enthusiasm in Breckenridge's face pleased her. "Larry's work issplendidly done already," he said. "He asked nothing for himself--and gotno more; but now the State is offering every man the rights he fought for.The proclamations are out, and any citizen who wants it can take up hishomestead grant. It will be something to remember that I carried hisshield; but Larry has no more need of an armour-bearer."
"I am older than you are."
"Ten years in wisdom, and fifty in goodness, but I scarcely fancy thatmore than six months separate our birthdays. Now, I know I am notexpressing myself very nicely, but, you see, we can't all be eloquent, andperhaps it should count for a little when I tell you that I never made anattempt of the kind before. I am, however, most painfully anxious toconvince you."
Miss Schuyler recognized it, and liked him the more for the diffidencewhich he wrapped in hasty speech. "Then," she said softly, "if in sixmonths from now----"
Breckenridge swayed in his saddle; but the girl's heel was quicker, and asher horse plunged the hand he would have laid on her bridle fell to hisside.
"No!" she said. "If in six months you are still in the same mind, you cancome to Hastings-on-the-Hudson, and speak to me again. Then, you may findme disposed to listen; but we will go on to Fremont in the meanwhile."
Breckenridge's response was unpremeditated, but the half-broken horse,provoked by his sudden movement, rose with fore hoofs in the air, and thenwhirled round in a circle. Its rider laughed exultantly, swaying lithely,with the big hat still in one hand that disdained the bridle; but his facegrew grave when there was quietness again, and he turned towards thegirl.
"I shall be in the same mind," he said, "for ever and ever."
They rode on to Fremont, and the next day Breckenridge drove MissSchuyler, who was going back to New York, the first stage of her journeyto the depot. A month had passed when one evening Torrance rode that way.The prairie, lying still and silent with a flush of saffron upon itswestern rim, was tinged with softest green, but broad across theforeground stretched the broken, chocolate-tinted clods of the ploughing,and the man's face grew grimmer as he glanced at them. He turned andwatched the long lines of crawling cattle that stretched half-way acrossthe vast sweep of green; and
Larry and his wife, who stood waiting himoutside the homestead, understood his feelings. Raw soil, rent by theharrows and seamed by the seeder, and creeping bands of stock, were tokensof the downfall of the old regime. Then Torrance, drawing bridle, satstill in his saddle while Hetty and her husband stood by his stirrup.
"I promised your friend, Hetty, that I would see you before I went away,"he said. "I left Cedar for the last time a few hours ago, and I am ridingin to the railroad now. The stock you see there are mine and Allonby's,and the cars are waiting to take them to Omaha. I shall spend the yearsthat may be left me on the Pacific slope."
Hetty's lips quivered, and it was Larry who spoke.
"Was it necessary, sir?"
Torrance smiled grimly. "Yes. The State offered me a few paltryconcessions, and a little of what was all mine by right. It didn't seem afit thing to accept their charity. Well, you have beaten us, Larry."
Grant's face flushed a little. "Only that the rest will gain more than thefew will lose I could almost be sorry, sir."
Torrance swung himself down from the saddle and laid his hand on Hetty'sshoulder.
"You have chosen your husband among the men who pulled us down, andnothing can be quite the same between you and me," he said. "But I amgetting an old man, and may never see you again."
Hetty looked up at him with a faint trace of pride in her misty eyes."There was nobody among our friends fit to stand beside him," she said."If you kiss me you will shake hands with Larry."
"I can do both," and Torrance held out his hand when he turned to Grant."Larry, I believe now you tried to do the square thing, and there mighthave been less trouble between us but for Clavering. I hope you will bearme no ill will, and while we can't quite wipe out the bitterness yet, byand by we may be friends again."
"I hope so, sir," said Larry.
Torrance said nothing further, but, moving stiffly, swung himself into thesaddle and slowly rode away. Hetty watched him with a curious wistfulnessin her eyes until he wheeled his horse on the crest of the rise, and satstill a moment looking back on them, a lonely, dusky object silhouettedagainst the paling sky. Then he turned again, and sank into the shadowyprairie. Hetty clung a little more tightly to her husband's arm, and for atime they stood watching the crawling cattle and dim shapes of thestockriders slowly fade, until the last pale flicker of saffron died outand man and beast sank into the night. A little cold wind came sighing outof the emptiness and emphasized its silence.
Hetty shivered. "Larry," she said, "they will never come back."
Grant drew her closer to him. "It had to be, my dear," he said. "Theyblocked the way, and nothing can stop the people you and I--andthey--belong to, moving on. Well, we will look forward and do what we can,for we must be ready to step out when our turn comes and watch the rest goby."
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