The Barrier: A Novel

  CHAPTER XXIV

  BRINGING ABOUT AN UNDERSTANDING

  Beth was much disappointed that evening; it was Saturday, yet Jim didnot come to dinner. She wished for him especially as a relief from theirritation of Ellis's presence; she longed for Jim as the mealprogressed, for her father was very complacent to Ellis, and it troubledher. But Ellis was a greater cause of distress, as he spoke more thanusual, and more directly at Judith. They were talking of politics, heand the Colonel. Municipal affairs, Judith put in; what was the prospectin them?

  "A fight," answered Ellis, "and with the man I least like as myopponent: your friend, George Mather. I expect he will be the reformcandidate for mayor--it is too bad!"

  "Why?" asked Beth.

  "Because," he answered, turning to her, "I should like to be friendswith him. If he and I could agree, nothing could stand before us. He isthe most energetic and far-sighted among the other side."

  "Come over to him, then," said Beth bluntly.

  He smiled at her. "I see that you think as Mather does. It's verynatural. But I have not only the misfortune to be with--well, let's saythe commoner people, but I also believe as they believe, and act as I dofrom conviction. Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Miss Blanchard,than to see things as you do, and to set myself, as I believe Mr. Matherconscientiously does, against progress. There would be great personaladvantage to me in it."

  "Mr. Ellis means," explained the Colonel, "that the defensive is alwaysthe easiest side to fight on."

  "More than that," added Ellis. "The other side in this quarrel is therespectable one. Positively, I am almost disreputable." He paused forher comment; Beth smiled with constraint, amazed at his boldness.

  "Outwardly, you mean," said Judith.

  "And only outwardly, I trust," he responded. "There are underlyingprinciples governing my actions (he was speaking to Beth again, afterturning to Judith for a single moment) which unfortunately do notappear. I expect to be misunderstood by your friends."

  "Always?" asked Beth. "Are not the rest of us to comprehend you someday, Mr. Ellis?"

  "Let me show you," he said, "how to comprehend me now." He leaned towardher, smiling; for the first time Beth felt a magnetic quality in hisglance, but it was reptilian and unpleasant. He told her of his outlookon the future; he grated on her, yet he impressed her, for even withopponents such as Ellis she was reasonable. But she felt a fundamentalfalsity, felt it but could not expose it; it was instinct alone thattaught her suspicion of his unanswerable words. For no logic could meetthem; they were wisdom itself. Of one thing, however, Beth felt certain:that they were not directed at her but at Judith.

  And Judith responded. When Ellis stopped speaking, she took up the word;with real earnestness she explained, added, and finally approved. Theplan was wise, far-reaching--oh, thought Beth, if but Mather, and notEllis, had been the man to originate it! Then Beth started: had she notonce heard that Mather had made plans, perhaps just such as these, atwhich the older heads had wondered? Although on mere conjecture, shetook up the matter as boldly as she could.

  "I did not know, Mr. Ellis, that you were such an engineer."

  "I am only a promoter," he answered. "You will find the oppositionnewspapers calling me that. But I often handle large matters, and thatis how I came on the idea."

  "You mean you found it?" she asked. "Did you not originate it?"

  Ellis flushed and hesitated; Judith spoke quickly. "I don't supposeanything in the world is so original that it hasn't been proposedbefore. Mr. Ellis, Beth, is profiting by the experience of othercities--aren't you?" And Judith turned to him.

  Gratified, he assented. Beth saw the glance of understanding that passedbetween them; turning to her father, she saw him watching Judith withsatisfaction. She felt almost faint: how was the world going so wrongthat this could happen? Nothing was left for Beth but to declare, asbrightly as she could--yet Judith felt the distress in her voice--thatthis was all so new that she must think it over. After that she satsilent.

  But Judith, having expressed her zeal in Ellis's cause, was more thanever pleased with herself and with him. It struck her particularly thathe was generous toward Mather, that it was kind of Ellis to praise himand desire him as an ally, and that, contrasting with Mather'sdenunciation of his rival, Ellis showed the finer character. She wasabout to question him again when the servant brought a note and laid itat her plate.

  "The messenger asked me to deliver it to you at once, Miss Judith."

  Judith took it up; it was addressed in Mather's hand. Her instantimpulse to destroy it he had foreseen, for in the corner of the envelopehe had written "Not personal." So, still flushing with the indignationshe had first felt, she opened the envelope and took out the note. Itwas written on the paper of the University Club.

  "_My dear Judith_: I must find Jim Wayne, but Beth must not know. Trusting absolutely to your secrecy, I give my reasons. Matters have been mismanaged at the mill; and just now, calling on Mrs. Wayne, I found her in despair over the disappearance of her securities. I fear that Jim has been speculating, and I am sure he is avoiding me, but I must find him before he takes it into his head to leave the city, for perhaps I can set matters right. If he comes to your house, will you immediately telephone me at the club? I am Yours in great haste, GEORGE MATHER."

  Judith was not one to be disturbed by sudden news, bad or good; she tookthis calmly. But as she sat, still looking at the letter, its meaningbegan to come upon her. Jim had been with Ellis that afternoon, had hadsome previous understanding with him, had almost accused him. Jim hadfled at Mather's coming, leaving unsaid more of those reproaches anddemands with which he had showered Ellis. His very words came back toher: "Who gave me the idea? Who told me what to do?" Then she rememberedEllis's cold remark: "Wayne, you have no claim upon me."

  Not understanding why, Judith began to tremble, and her hands grew cold.It was as if her instinct outstripped her mind and gave warning of whatwas coming. Slowly, sitting there in her place and looking straightbefore her, she began to unravel the puzzle. Ellis looked at her once,curiously; then Beth, seeing the glance and noting Judith's absorption,took her place in the conversation. Judith thought on. If Jim hadspeculated, had Ellis known? Had Ellis led him into it? Once in, didEllis refuse to help him? She recalled what Mather had said of Ellisdiscarding his tools. But how could Jim be of use to him,except--yes!--as a handle, a hold on her through Beth! And was thisEllis's method of bringing Jim into his power? She heard again the boy'sdespairing words: "Who gave me the idea?"

  She looked at Ellis: what was this wild suspicion? Could it be true?

  Beth, not knowing what else to speak about, had made him talk of thesuggested strike. Ellis had laughed about it. There would be no strike.

  "Why," he was saying as Judith looked at him, "the air seems chargedwith strike-talk sometimes, yet nothing comes of it. Now that I think ofit," and he paused to laugh, "a man tried blackmail on me thisafternoon. He was a fellow I once had to do with when we were bothyounger, a crank if ever there was one. He has ideas of the rights ofthe workingman, yet he is far from honest. He came to me with thestatement that he could bring on the strike if he wished--with hissocialistic talk, you understand. He wished me to pay him to keep fromharanguing my men."

  "Did you do it?" Judith suddenly demanded.

  "No, no," he said lightly. "A mere agitator, he could do no harm."

  "An agitator?" asked Beth, interested. "Why, there was such a man atGeorge's mill this summer. Don't you remember, Judith. He tried to bringabout a strike there. I wonder if it was the same man, Mr. Ellis. Washis name Stock?"

  Judith had watched steadily. At Beth's first words Ellis had changed,hardened, made his face stone. But at the name--did he not control astart? Yet he answered with indifference. "Oh, no. There are many suchfellows. It is quite another man."

  But he glanced at Judith, and though he did i
t quietly and steadily, asonce he had described his habit to be, she recalled the conversationwhich she had overheard, and understood it all. She _had_ known thevoice, the husky tones which became harsh when raised. She rememberedthe words, the Chebasset job for which money had been promised, yetwhich had failed. And Ellis had paid--had paid! The meanness, the wholebase plot, was revealed to her.

  The servant had come with the dessert, but Judith rose from her chair;her face was white. "I cannot eat any more," she said. "You must excuseme."

  "Is anything----" began her father.

  "I must go," she said, and went into the parlour, wishing only to bealone and think, to despise herself at leisure. Ellis had revealed notonly himself, but also her blind folly. She cast herself upon the sofaand put her face in her hands.

  Then she heard his footsteps; he had followed. He crossed the room; shefelt him sit beside her, and she heard his voice. He spoke gently. "MissJudith--Judith!" He took her hand to draw it from her face.

  His touch was a disgrace, but she yielded her hand to his; she wishedhis fingers might burn like fire, to brand her punishment. Writhing inspirit as she felt herself unclean, for very scorn would not resist him.

  "Judith," he repeated, his hope rising, "you are not ill?"

  "No." She turned and looked upon him resolutely; she would see once morethis man whom she had admired.

  "If anything I have said," he went on, "if I have--oh, did it come overyou then so strongly that you left the table? Did you feel that we aremade for each other?"

  She withdrew her hand quickly. "Made for each other!"

  His face changed, the eagerness was checked, and he said theconventional words, conventionally: "I love you."

  She looked into him: how small he was! How cold his voice, which shouldhave been impassioned! "Love me?" she asked. "You love crooked ways!"

  Slowly he rose. "What is this?" he asked.

  "I so felt our--sympathy, that I left the table? Oh, yes, yes!" Scornovercame her; again she hid her face. Oh, but to die from the strengthof this hatred of herself!

  She heard him walk away; then he returned and stood before her. "I donot understand you," he said. "I have been foolish, perhaps, but I toldthe truth. I do feel that we are made for each other. Will you marryme?"

  Her contempt of him left her; she loathed only herself. All through thisacquaintance he had been his natural man; it was she who had deceivedherself. For that she could not punish him. "I cannot marry you," sheanswered.

  His effort at self-control was visible, but it succeeded. "I beg," hesaid, "that you will give me time. If I have been hasty----"

  "No," she said, rising and facing him. "Mr. Ellis, I acknowledge that Ihave treated you badly; I am as sorry as I can be. Can I say more thanthat? Yes, I beg you to forgive me. But I can never marry you."

  He pressed his lips firmly together; his brows contracted, and he lookedat her out of those narrow eyes which could control his subordinates orthreaten his opponents. But she met him with sorrow, not defiance, andhe could not understand.

  "What has happened?" he cried. "Yesterday--this very day----"

  "You were sure of me?" she asked. "Rightly, Mr. Ellis. But now it is toolate."

  "What is it, then? Has that fellow Mather----?"

  "Yourself only," she interrupted. "I beg you to leave me."

  He looked at her a moment longer; then he left the room. But not thehouse: she heard him go to the dining-room and speak to her father. ThenBeth came into the parlour quickly; she was agitated.

  "Judith----"

  "Not now, Beth," and Beth left her again.

  There was a pause, and then her father came; she heard his draggingstep. When he appeared he showed the last shreds of his naturalfeeling--shame that at Ellis's order he should come to advise his child.

  "Judith," he began, "Mr. Ellis tells me that--that you----"

  "I have declined to marry him," she said.

  "Why is this?" he asked. "It has seemed so plain that you would takehim."

  Judith hung her head. Had it then been so plain? "I have changed."

  "Come," said the Colonel with an attempt at briskness. "You can't meanthis. There's nothing against Ellis that I can see."

  "Nothing?" she asked. "And you say that, father? What will our friendssay."

  "Girls marry out of their station," he urged uneasily. "We can bring himin, Judith."

  "Father," she demanded, "what hold has he on you, to make you saythis?"

  "Hold?" he asked. "My dear child, there is nothing of the sort." Butwhen the truth was thrust directly at him the Colonel was a poor actor.

  "There is something between you," Judith said.

  "I have come to see Mr. Ellis in a different light," he explained. "Thatis all there is to it."

  "Father," cried Judith, "tell me!"

  He turned away from her and began to walk up and down, but she held hissleeve and stopped him.

  "Father!" she beseeched.

  He tried to meet her eye, and failed; he looked at the carpet andshifted his feet. But still he felt her insistent grasp upon his arm,and at last he spoke huskily.

  "Judith, I owe him money."

  "Oh!" she gasped, and fell away from him. "Father, what have you done?"Yet feeling that she had not even the right to reproach him, she said nomore. As she stood with bowed head, he took courage.

  "You see," he said, "why it must be."

  "Must be?" she demanded. "Oh, father, does that make it inevitable?"

  "Judith," he asked her, startled. "Do you mean that you--you won't?"

  "How much do you owe him?" she questioned with energy.

  "Some thousands."

  "Well," she said, "what are four or five thousand? We can sell the houseand live differently."

  He looked his alarm. "It is more than five," he said. "Nearer tenthousand."

  "The house is worth more than that," she responded.

  "But to leave this place?" he objected. "Judith, this is absurd,unreasonable! Where could we go?"

  "Go anywhere!" she answered. "Live as we must. Father, you can work."

  "Work?" he gasped. "I--work?"

  "Then I will support you. Beth and I."

  "No, no!" he said in despair. "I couldn't stand it; I couldn't exist. Atmy age; think of that!" and his tone turned to pleading.

  She heard a footstep at the threshold, and there was Ellis. He enteredand spoke to her. "I couldn't wait. Miss Blanchard, has not your fatherpersuaded you?"

  She turned upon him with flaming eye. "How did you first persuade him?Did you offer to release his debt?"

  "So," he snarled to the Colonel, "you have told!"

  The Colonel stepped away from the venomous gleam of his teeth. "She mademe," he stammered.

  "Made you!"

  "There is no advantage in discussing this, Mr. Ellis," said Judith.

  "Do not count it against me," he urged quickly. "Your father came to meof himself, asking for help. I did it for you."

  "You would have served me better by refusing. But Mr. Ellis, the moneyshall be paid."

  "Paid with money?" he asked. With clenched hands he turned upon theColonel. "Oh, you fool!"

  "Father!" cried Judith, and stepped between them to restrain the burstof military wrath which should cast Ellis from the house. But to heramazement her father stood motionless, almost cringing. Then first sherecognised the slow degeneration which in all these years had been goingon beneath the unchanged exterior. "Father!" she said again, but now inpity, and took her place at his side. She felt, as he made a littlemovement toward her, his gratitude for the protection--anotherrevelation of his loss of manliness. "Mr. Ellis, there is nothingfurther to say."

  "Oh, you have led me on to this!" he cried. "Was it put up between you?Such a way to gain money!"

  Instinctively she took her father's arm, to hold him; again he proved,by his passivity, that his spirit was all gone. "Will you leave us?" sheasked coldly.

  "Oh!" Ellis cried, shaking with anger and carried
away. "You put it onwell! Because I am not one of you, you tricked me, then? And was itMather all the time? But my turn is coming!" He would have said more,but she left her father and went toward the door. Then he saw howhopelessly he was cutting himself off from her. "Oh, forgive me--Judith!I am frantic."

  But she turned at the door, and standing like an angry goddess, pointedinto the hallway. "Go!" she commanded.

  "Miss Blanchard!" he exclaimed in consternation.

  "Go!"

  His hold on her was gone forever; he saw it, and his venom returned. Hewent swiftly to her father; she did not hear the words that Ellishissed. "I have bought up the mortgages on this house; you know they arelong overdue. Monday I turn you out!"

  With delight he saw the Colonel flinch, but by no effort of resolutioncould Ellis meet the glance of the haughty figure at the door. Yet as hepassed her Judith quailed and shivered, for by the same commandinggesture she had sent Mather from the house.