CHAPTER XV
EDITH AND FRANK
It may have been an hour--perhaps two of them--since Robin withConstance and her mother had passed him on the way to the Lodge, whensuddenly Frank heard some one hurrying down the path. It was the rustleof skirts that he heard, and he knew that it was a woman running. Justat the little grove of birches she stopped and seemed to hesitate. Inthe silence of the place he could hear her breath come pantingly, asfrom one laboring under heavy excitement. Then there was a sort ofsobbing moan, and a moment later a voice that he scarcely recognized asthat of Edith Morrison, so full of wild anguish it was, called his name.He had already risen, and was at her side in an instant.
"What is it?" he demanded; "tell me everything--tell me quickly!"
"Oh," she wailed, "I knew you must be here. They couldn't find you, andI knew why. I knew you had been here, and had seen what I saw, andheard what I heard. Oh, you must go to her--you must go at once!"
She had seized his arm with both hands, shaking with a storm ofemotion--of terror, it seemed--her eyes burning through the dark.
"When I saw that, I went mad," she raved on. "I saw everything through ablack mist, and out of it the devil came and tempted me. He put themeans in my hands to destroy my enemy, and I have done it--oh, I havedone it! You said it was the Devil's Garden, and it is! Oh, it is his--Iknow it! I know it!"
The girl was fairly beside herself--almost incoherent--but there wasenough in her words and fierce excitement to fill Frank with suddenapprehension.
"What is it you have done?" he demanded. "Tell me what you mean by thedevil tempting you to destroy your enemy. What have you done?"
A wave of passion, anguish, remorse broke over her, and she clung to himheavily. She could not find voice at first. When she did, it had becomea shuddering whisper.
"I have killed her!" she managed to gasp. "I have killed her! I did itwith the Yellow Danger--you remember--the Yellow Danger--that day inthe Devil's Garden--that poison one--that deadly one with the cup--therewere some among those she brought to-night. She must have left themthere by mistake. I knew them--I remembered that day--and, oh, I havebeen there since. But I was about to throw them away when the devil camefrom his garden and tempted me. He said no one could ever suspect orblame me. I put one of the deadly ones among those that went to herplace at dinner. When it was too late I was sorry. I realized, all atonce, that I was a murderer and must not live. So I ran down here tothrow myself in the lake. Then I remembered that you were here, and thatperhaps you could do something to save her. Oh, she doesn't know! She ishappy up there, but she is doomed. You must help her! You must! Oh, I donot want to die a murderer! I cannot do that--I cannot!"
The girl's raving had been in part almost inaudible, but out of it thetruth came clearly. Constance had brought some mushrooms to the Lodge,and these, as usual, had been sent in to Edith to prepare. Among themEdith had found some which she recognized as those declared by Constanceto be deadly, and these she had allowed to go to Constance's plate.Later, stricken with remorse, she had rushed out to destroy herself, andwas now as eager to save her victim.
All this rushed through Frank's brain in an instant, and for a moment heremembered only that day in the Devil's Garden, and the fact that adeadly fungus which Constance had called the Yellow Danger was about todestroy her life. But then, in a flash, came back the letter, writtenfrom Lake Placid, in which Constance had confessed a mistake, andreferred to a certain Amanita which she had thought poisonous as achoice edible mushroom, called by the ancients "food of the gods." Heremembered now that this was the Orange Amanita or "Yellow Danger," anda flood of hope swept over him; but he must be certain of the truth.
"Miss Morrison," he said, in a voice that was at once gentle and grave,"this is a bitter time for us all. But you must be calm, and show me, ifyou can, one of those yellow mushrooms you did not use. I have reason tohope that they are not the deadly ones after all. But take me where Ican see them, at once."
His words and tone seemed to give the girl new strength and courage.
"Oh, don't tell me that unless it is true!" she pleaded. "Don't tell methat just to get me to go back to the Lodge! Oh, I will do anything tosave her! Come--yes--come, and I will show them to you!"
She started hurriedly in the direction of the Lodge, Frank keeping byher side. As they neared the lights she seized his arm and detained himan instant.
"You will not let her die?" She trembled, her fear returning. "She is soyoung and beautiful--you will not let her die? I will give up Robin, butshe must not die."
He spoke to her reassuringly, and they pushed on, making a wide detourwhich brought them to the rear of the Lodge. Through the window they sawthe servants still passing to and fro into the dining-room serving a fewbelated guests. From it a square of light penetrated the woods behind,and on the edge of this they paused--the girl's eyes eagerly scanningthe ground.
"I hid them here," she said. "I did not put them in the waste, for fearsome one would see them."
Presently she knelt and brushed aside the leaves. Something like goldgleamed before her and she seized upon it. A moment later she haduncovered another similar object.
"There," she said chokingly; "there they are! Tell me--tell me quick!Are they the deadly ones?"
He gave them a quick glance in the light, then he said:
"I think not, but I cannot be sure here. Come with me to the guide'scabin. It was dark as we came up, but it was open. I will strike alight."
They hurried across to the little detached cabin and pushed in. Frankstruck a match and lit a kerosene bracket lamp. Then he laid the twoyellow mushrooms on the table beneath it, and from an inner pocket drewa small and rather mussed letter and opened it--his companion watchingevery movement with burning eager eyes.
"This is a letter from Miss Deane," he said, "written me from LakePlacid. In it she says that she made a mistake about the Orange Amanitathat she called the Yellow Danger. These are her words--a rule takenfrom the book:
"'_If the cup of the Yellow Amanita is present, the plant is harmless.If the cup is absent, it is poisonous._'"
He bent forward and looked closely at the specimens before him.
"That is surely the cup," he said. "She gathered these and put themamong the others by intention, knowing them to be harmless. She is safe,and you have committed no crime."
His last words fell on insensate ears. Edith drew a quick breath thatwas half a cry, and an instant later Frank saw that she was reeling. Hecaught her and half lifted her to a bench by the door, where she layinsensible. An approaching step caught Frank's ear and, as he stepped tothe door, Robin Farnham, who had seen the light in the cabin, was at theentrance. A startled look came into his eyes as he saw Edith's whiteface, but Frank said quietly:
"Miss Morrison has had a severe shock--a fright. She has fainted, but Ithink there is no danger. I will remain while you bring a cup of water."
There was a well at the end of the Lodge, and Robin returned almostimmediately with a filled cup.
Already Edith showed signs of returning consciousness, and Frank leftthe two, taking his way to the veranda, where he heard the voices ofConstance and her mother, mingled with that of Miss Carroway. Heascended the steps with a resolute tread and went directly to Constance,who came forward to meet him.
"And where did you come from?" she demanded gayly. "We looked for youall about. Mamma and I came over on purpose to dine with you, and Ibrought a very especial dish, which I had all to myself. Still, we didmiss you, and Miss Carroway has been urging us to send out a searchingparty."
Frank shook hands with Mrs. Deane and Miss Carroway, apologizing for hisabsence and lateness. Then he turned to Constance, and together theypassed down to the further end of the long veranda. Neither spoke untilthey were out of earshot of the others. Then the girl laid her handgently on her companion's arm.
"I have something to tell you," she began. "I came over onpurpose--something I have been wanting to say a long time, only----"
He interrupted her.
"I know," he said; "I can guess what it is. That was why I did not comesooner. I came now because I have something to say to you. I did notintend to come at all, but then something happened and--I have changedmy mind. I will only keep you a moment."
His voice was not quite steady, but grave and determined, with a tone init which the girl did not recognize. Her hand slipped from his arm.
"Tell me first," he went on, "if you are quite sure that the mushroomsyou brought for dinner--all of them--the yellow ones--are entirelyharmless."
Certainly this was an unexpected question. Something in the solemnmanner and suddenness of it may have seemed farcical. For an instant sheperhaps thought him jesting, for there was a note of laughter in hervoice as she replied:
"Oh, yes; quite certain. Those are the Caesar mushrooms--food of thegods--I brought them especially for you. But how did you know of them?"
He did not respond to this question, nor to her light tone.
"Miss Deane," he went on, "I know perfectly well what you came here tosay. I happened to be in the little grove of birches to-night when youlanded with your mother and Robin Farnham, and I saw and heard what tookplace on the dock, almost before I realized that I was eavesdropping.Unfortunately, though I did not know it then, another saw and heard, aswell, and the shock of it was such that it not only crushed her spiritbut upset her moral balance for the time. You will know, of course, thatI refer to Edith Morrison. She had to know, and perhaps no one is toblame for her suffering--and mine; only it seems unfortunate that therevelation should have come just as it did rather than in the gentlerway which you perhaps had planned."
He paused a moment to collect words for what he had to say next.Constance was looking directly at him, though her expression was lost inthe dusk. Her voice, however, was full of anxiety.
"There is a mistake," she began eagerly. "Oh, I will explain, but notnow. Where is Edith? Tell me first what has happened to Edith."
"I will do that, presently. She is quite safe. The man she was to marryis with her. But first I have something to say--something that I wish totell you before--before I go. I want to say to you in all honesty that Iconsider Robin Farnham a fine, manly fellow--more worthy of you thanI--and that I honor you in your choice, regretting only that it mustbring sorrow to other hearts. I want to confess to you that never untilafter that day upon the mountain did I realize the fullness of my lovefor you--that it was all in my life that was worth preserving--that itspoke to the best there was in me. I want you to know that it stirredold ambitions and restored old dreams, and that I awoke to renewedeffort and to the hope of achievement only because of you and of yourapproval. The story I read to you that day on the mountain was my story.I wrote it those days while you were away. It was the beginning of awork I hoped to make worth while. I believed that you cared, and thatwith worthy effort I could win you for my own. I had Robin Gray'scharacter in mind for my hero, not dreaming that I should be called uponto make a sacrifice on my own account, but now that the time is here Iwant you to know that I shall try not to make it grudgingly or cravenly,but as manfully as I can. I want to tell you from my heart and upon myhonor that I wish you well--that if ever the day comes when I can be ofservice to you or to him, I will do whatever lies in my power andstrength. It is not likely such a time will ever come, for in the matterof means you will have ample and he will have enough. Those bonds whichpoor old Robin Gray believed worthless all these years have beenrestored to their full value, and more; and, even if this were not true,Robin Farnham would make his way and command the recognition and therewards of the world. What will become of my ambition I do not know. Itawoke too late to mean anything to you, and the world does not need myeffort. As a boy, I thought it did, and that my chances were all brightahead. But once, a long time ago, in these same hills, I gave my luckypiece to a little mountain girl, and perhaps I gave away myopportunities with it, and my better strength. Now, there is no more tosay except God bless you and love you, as I always will."
And a moment later he added:
"I left Miss Morrison with Robin Farnham in the guide's cabin. If she isnot there you will probably find her in her room. Be as kind to her asyou can. She needs everything."
He held out his hand then, as if to leave her. But she took it and heldit fast. He felt that hers trembled.
"You are brave and true," she said, "and you cannot go like this. Youwill not leave the Lodge without seeing me again. Promise me you willnot. I have something to say to you--something it is necessary youshould know. It is quite a long story and will take time. I cannot tellit now. Promise me that you will walk once more with me to-morrowmorning. I will go now to Edith; but promise me what I ask. You must."
"It is not fair," he said slowly, "but I promise you."
"You need not come for me," she said. "Our walk will be in the otherdirection. I will meet you here quite early."
He left her at the entrance of the wide hall and, ascending to his room,began to put his traps together in readiness for departure by stage nextday.
Constance descended the veranda steps and crossed over to the guides'cabin, where a light still shone. As she approached the open door shesaw Edith and Robin sitting on the bench, talking earnestly. Edith hadbeen crying, but appeared now in a calmer frame of mind. Robin held bothher hands in his, and she made no apparent attempt to withdraw them.Then came the sound of footsteps and Constance stood in the doorway.For a moment Edith was startled. Then, seeing who it was, she sprang upand ran forward with extended arms.
"Forgive me! Oh, forgive me!" she cried; "I did not know! I did notknow!"