The Knave of Diamonds

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE LAST ORDEAL

  What impulse she obeyed she knew not; only she wanted to hear thenightingale, to drink in the fragrance, to feel the healing balm upon herheart. Her feet carried her noiselessly over the grass to that shiningsplendour of water, and turned along the path that led past the seatunder the cedar where Nap had joined her on that evening that seemedalready far away, and had told her that he loved her still. By this pathhe and Bertie would have gone to the Dower House; by this path he wouldprobably return alone.

  Her heart quickened a little as she passed into the deep shadow. She wasnot nervous as a rule, but there was something mysterious about theplace, something vaguely disquieting. The gurgle of the stream that fedthe lake sounded curiously remote.

  She turned towards the rustic seat on which she had rested that day, andon the instant her pulses leapt to sudden alarm. There was a stealthymovement in front of her; a crouching object that looked monstrous in thegloom detached itself from the shadow and began to move away. For amoment she thought it was some animal; then there came to her theunmistakable though muffled tread of human feet, and swift as an arrowcomprehension pierced her. The thing in front of her was Tawny Hudson.

  But why was he skulking there? Why did he seek thus to avoid her? Whatwas the man doing? The agitated questions raced through her brain atlightning speed, and after them came a horrible, a sickening suspicion.

  Whence it arose she could not have said, but the memory of Nap's faceonly half an hour before, when Tawny Hudson had been under discussion,arose in her mind and confirmed it almost before she knew that it wasthere. She had often suspected the half-breed of harbouring a dislike forNap. More often still she had noted Nap's complete and perfectly obviouscontempt for him. He had tolerated him, no more, for Lucas's sake. Was itnot highly probable that now that the restraining influence was gone theman's animosity had flamed to hatred? And if he were really crazy, asBertie believed, to what lengths might he not carry it?

  Fear stabbed her, fear that was anguish. At any moment now Nap might bereturning, and if Tawny were indeed lying in wait for him--

  She traversed the deep shadow cast by the cedar and looked forth into thepark beyond. The man had disappeared. He must have doubled back amongthe trees of the shrubbery; and she knew he must be crouching somewherein concealment not far away, for all sound of footsteps had ceased. Didhe fancy she had not seen him, she wondered? Was he hoping that she wouldturn and go back by the way she had come, leaving him free to accomplishhis purpose, whatever it might be?

  And then her heart suddenly stood still, for away in the distance,walking with his light, swinging gait over the moonlit sward, she sawNap.

  In that moment her fear took definite and tangible form, and a horror ofthe thing that lurked in the shadows behind her seized her, goading herto action. She passed out into the quiet moonlight and moved to meet him.

  Her impulse was to run, but she restrained it, dreading lest she mightprecipitate the disaster she feared. Hudson must not suspect herintention, must not know of the panic at her heart.

  Nap did not see her at once. The background of trees obscured her. Butas she drew away from them he caught sight of her, and instantlyquickened his pace.

  They met scarcely fifty yards from the cedar, and breathlessly Annespoke. "Turn back with me a little way. I have something to say to you."

  He wheeled at once, with no show of surprise. Though he must have seenher agitation he did not ask its cause.

  They walked several paces before Anne spoke again. "You will think mevery strange, but I have had a fright. I--I want you, Nap, to--tounderstand and not think me foolish or laugh at me."

  "I couldn't do either if I tried," said Nap. "Who has been frighteningyou? Tawny Hudson?"

  "Yes, Tawny Hudson." Anne was still breathless; she glanced nervouslyover her shoulder. "Shall we walk a little faster? He--he is lurking inthose trees, and do you know I don't think he is safe? I think--I can'thelp thinking--that he is lying in wait for you to--to do you amischief."

  Nap stopped dead. "That so? Then I reckon I will go and deal withhim at once."

  "Oh, no!" she gasped. "No! Nap, are you mad?"

  He gave her a queer look. "By no means, Lady Carfax, though I believe Ishould be if I went any farther with you. You stay here while I go andinvestigate."

  He would have left her with the words, but on the instant desperationseized Anne. Her strained nerves would not bear this. She caught his arm,holding him fast.

  "You must not! You shall not! Or if you do I am coming with you. You--youare not going alone."

  "I am going alone," Nap said; but he stood still, facing her, watchingher as he had watched her on that day long ago when he had lain helplessin her arms in the snow, the day that revelation had first come to hershrinking heart. "I am going alone," he repeated very deliberately. "Andyou will wait here till I come back."

  She felt that he was putting forth his strength to compel her, andsomething within her warned her that he was stronger in that moment thanshe. She did not understand his ascendency over her, but she could nothelp being aware of it. Her agitated hold upon his arm began to slacken.

  "Oh, don't go!" she entreated weakly. "Please don't go! I can't bearit. It--it's too much. Nap, if--if any harm comes to you, I--I think itwill kill me."

  There came a sudden gleam in his sombre eyes that seemed to stab her, butit was gone instantly, before he spoke in answer.

  "Lady Carfax, you are not foolish--you are sublime! But--be wise aswell." Very quietly he extricated his arm from her clinging hands andturned to go. "Don't watch me," he said. "Go on to the bridge and waitfor me there."

  He was gone. Blindly she obeyed him; blindly she moved towards the bridgethat spanned the stream. She was trembling so much that she could hardlywalk, but almost mechanically she urged herself on. No other course wasopen to her.

  She reached the bridge, and leaned upon the handrail. She thought thebeating of her heart would suffocate her. She strained her ears tolisten, but she could hear nought else; and for a time she actuallylacked the physical strength to turn and look.

  At last, after the passage of many minutes, she summoned her sinkingcourage. Faint and dizzy still, she managed to raise her head. Themoonlight danced in her eyes, but with immense effort she compelledherself to look back.

  The next instant utter amazement seized and possessed her, dominating herfear. Nap was standing just beyond the outspreading boughs of the cedar,a straight relentless figure, with the arrogance of complete mastery inevery line, while at his feet grovelled and whimpered the greathalf-breed, Tawny Hudson.

  Nap was speaking. She could not hear what he said, but spell-bound shewatched, while a curious sensation of awe tingled through her. The manwas so superbly self-confident.

  Suddenly she saw him stoop and take something from his prostrate enemy. Asharp doubt assailed her. She saw the wretched Tawny cringe lower andcover his face. She saw the moonlight glint upon the thing in Nap's hand.

  He seemed to be considering it, for he turned it this way and that,making it flash and flash again. And then abruptly, with a swift turn ofthe wrist, he spun it high into the air. It made a shining curve, andfell with a splash into the stream. She saw the widening ripples fromwhere she stood.

  But she did not stay to watch them. Her attention was focussed upon thescene that was being enacted before her.

  It was very nearly over. Tawny Hudson had lifted his head, and she sawsubmission the most abject on his upraised face. He seemed to be pleadingfor something, and after a moment, with the faintest shrug of theshoulders, Nap lifted one hand and made a curious gesture above him. Thenext instant he turned upon his heel and came towards her, while TawnyHudson got up and slunk away into the shadows.

  Anne awaited him, standing quite motionless. She knew now what hadhappened. He had grappled with the man's will just as once he hadgrappled with hers. And he had conquered. She expected him toapproach her with the royal swagger of vict
ory, and involuntarily sheshrank, dreading to encounter him in that mood, painfully aware ofher own weakness.

  He came to her; he stood before her. "Anne," he said, "forgive me!"

  She gazed at him in astonishment. "Forgive you!" she repeated. "But why?"

  "I have no right to practise the black arts in your presence," he said,"though as a matter of fact there was no other way. I've frightened thepoor devil out of his senses. Aren't you frightened too?"

  "I don't understand," she answered rather piteously. "I am only thankfulthat you are not hurt."

  "That's good of you," he said, and she heard no irony in his voice. Heleaned his arms upon the rail beside her, and stared down in silencefor several moments into the dark water. "If this had happened aweek--less than a week--ago," he said at length, speaking very quietly,"I would have let the fellow knife me with the utmost pleasure. I shouldeven have been grateful to him. And"--he turned very slightly towardsher--"you would have had cause for gratitude too, for Luke would havebeen with you to-day."

  She shrank a little at his words. "I don't understand," she said again.

  He stood up and faced her with abrupt resolution. "I am going to make youunderstand," he said, "once and for all. It's a rather hideous recital,but you had better hear it. I will condense it as much as possible. I'vebeen an evil brute all my life, but I guess you know that already. Thefirst time I saw you I wanted to ruin you. I never meant to fall in lovewith you. I kicked against it--kicked hard. Good women alwaysexasperated me. But I wanted a new sensation, and, by heaven, I got it!"He paused a moment, and she saw his grim features relax very slightly. "Iwas caught in my own net," he said. "I believe there is magic in you. Youcaptured me anyway. I did homage to you--in spite of myself. After thatnight the relish went out of everything for me. I wanted only you."

  Again he paused, but she said nothing. She was listening with hersteadfast eyes upon him.

  "But you kept me at a distance," he said, "and I couldn't help myself.That was the maddening part of it. Lucas knew even then--or suspected.But he didn't interfere. He saw you were taming me. And so you were--soyou were. But that thrashing upset everything. It drove me mad. I wascrazy for revenge. Lucas made me go away, but I couldn't stay. I was likea man possessed. My hatred for your husband had swamped my love for you.You have got to know it, Anne; I am like that. I wanted to wreak myvengeance on him through you, because I knew--by then--that I had somehowreached your heart. And so I came to you--I saw you--and then I couldn'tdo it. Your love--I suppose I may call it that?--barred the way. It wasyour safeguard. You trusted me, and for that I wanted to fall down andworship you. But you sent me away--I had to go. You made a man of me. Ilived a clean life because of you. I was your slave. I believe I shouldhave remained so if your husband had died then. But the knowledge that hewas coming back to you was too much for me. I couldn't stand that. Ibroke free."

  He stopped suddenly and brought his clenched fist down upon the rail asif physical pain were a relief to his soul.

  "I needn't go into what happened then," he said. "You saw me at my worst,and--you conquered me. You drove me out of your stronghold, and youlocked the door. I don't know even now how you did it. None but a goodwoman would have dared. Do you know, when I came to my senses and knewwhat I had done, knew that I'd insulted you, killed your trust--yourlove, made you despise me, I nearly shot myself? It was Dot who kept mefrom that. She guessed, I suppose. And I went away--I went right awayinto the Rockies--and fought my devils there. I came back saner than youhave ever known me, to hear that you were free. Can you believe that Iactually told myself that you were mine--mine for the winning? Istretched out my hands to you across half the world, and I felt as ifwherever you were I had somehow managed to reach and touch you. It wasexactly a year from the day I had first met you."

  "Ah, I remember!" Anne said, her voice quick with pain; but she did nottell him what she remembered.

  He went on rapidly, as if she had not spoken. "And then I came to you.And--I found--I found Luke--in possession. Well, that was the end ofeverything for me. I couldn't help knowing that it was the best thingthat could possibly happen to either of you. And I--well, I was just outof it. I would have gone again that night, but Luke wouldn't have it. Hesuspected from the first, though I lied to him--I lied royally. But Icouldn't keep it up. He was too many for me. He wouldn't let me drop out,but neither would I let him. I fought every inch. I wouldn't let him die.I held him night and day--night and day. I knew what it meant to youtoo, and I knew you would help me afterwards to drop out. My whole soulwas in it, but even so, I couldn't hold on for ever. I had to slacken atlast, and he--he slackened too. I knew it directly, felt him losinghold. That was two days before he died. And I pulled myself together andgrabbed him again. I think he knew. He tried to wake up, said he'd getwell, made me let go of him, made me explain things to you. Andthen--well, I guess he thought his part was done--so he just--let go."

  Abruptly he turned from her and leaned again upon the rail, lodging hishead on his hands. "That's all," he said. "But if Tawny had taken it intohis fool brain to make an end of me a little sooner--as I meant him to--Iknow very well Luke would have hung on--somehow--for your sake. Oh, Iwish to heaven he had!" he burst out fiercely. "I'm not fit to speak toyou, not fit to touch your hand. You--you--I believe you'd be kind to meif I would let you. But I won't--I won't! I'm going away. It rests withme now to protect you somehow, and there is no other way."

  He ceased to speak, and in the silence she watched his bent head, greatlywondering, deeply pitying. When he stood up again she knew that thetumult that tore his soul had been forced down out of sight.

  "You see how it is with me, Anne," he said very sadly. "Tawny Hudsonthinks I'm a devil, and I'm not sure--even now--that he isn't right.That's why I'm going away. I won't have you trust me, for I can't trustmyself. And you have no one to protect you from me. So you won't blame mefor going? You'll understand?"

  His words went straight to her heart. She felt the quick tearsrising, but she kept them back. She knew that he needed strength fromher just then.

  And so, after a moment, she commanded herself, and answered him.

  "I think you are quite right to go, Nap. And--yes, I understand.Only--some day--some day--come back again!"

  He leaned towards her. His face had flashed into sudden vitality at herwords. He made a movement as if he would take her into his arms. And thenabruptly, almost with violence, he withdrew himself, and gripped hishands together behind him.

  Standing so, with the moonlight shining on his face, he showed her thatwhich her heart ached to see. For though the dusky eyes were fixed andstill, unveiled but unrevealing, though the high cheek-bones and lanternjaw were grim as beaten brass, she had a glimpse beyond of the seething,volcanic fires she dreaded, and she knew that he had spoken the truth. Itwas better for them both that he should go.

  "I will come back to you, Anne," he said, speaking very steadily. "Iwill come back to you--if I find I can."

  It was final, and she knew it. She held out her hand to him in silence,and he, stooping, pressed it dumbly against his lips.

  Thereafter they walked back to the house together, and partedwithout a word.