CHAPTER XXVII
IN WHICH JUDGE HARMON LEAVES THE STORY
The Judge opened the street-door for Beth, and seemed to be preparing tofollow her out. In spite of all she had gone through, perhaps because ofit, her mind was alive to little things, and she saw that he was dazed."You're not coming with me, sir? And without your coat?"
"I was going with you, was I not?" he asked. "But I--I've forgotten. Canyou find your way alone?"
"Oh, yes," she said. "You must not come. Go in, sir." As ifmechanically, he obeyed her, and shut the door. Beth went down thesteps.
But the Judge seemed still confused. Slowly, very slowly he entered thehall. He went to the great chair that stood opposite the parlour door,and sat in it. His breath still came with difficulty, his head wasbuzzing; he could not remember what had happened. Then, raising hishead, he looked through the portieres, which he and Beth had partedslightly, into the parlour. He saw, he remembered, and his heart gave agreat leap in his breast.
So long as they heard voices at the door, Mrs. Harmon and Jim had stoodlistening. But when the indistinct tones ceased, and the door shut, theylooked at each other.
"They've both gone!" Jim said. But they listened a moment longer. Theslow footsteps of the Judge, as he made his way over the heavy rugs,were inaudible. Jim held his hands out to her again, but she pointed tothe ring upon the floor.
"Trouble for you!"
He picked up the ring. "Trouble for both of us," he responded gloomily.
"Worst for you," she replied. "What shall you do?"
"I don't know."
"Oh!" and she stamped her foot. "How stupid of us! It was all, at last,just as we wished it. It could have gone on, nobody knowing. Now--oh, Iam furious!"
"You mean," he asked, "that you would have let it go on as we were?"
"Yes."
"Meeting only once in a while?"
"Of course!"
"And that would have satisfied you?"
"Satisfied? No, Jim. But that would be all we could have."
"Then I am glad we were seen!" he cried. "I couldn't have gone on thatway. Now we shall have to act."
"Act? What do you mean?"
"This," answered Jim. "Everything has got to stop for me, anyway.I'm--I'm in trouble. Ellis----" and he stopped to curse.
"Don't, don't!" she begged him. "Explain; I don't understand."
"He led me into it," said Jim. "He suggested it all: how I could takethe money they send to the mill every Saturday for the men's pay, how Icould get my mother's power of attorney, and use her securities. I nevershould have thought of it but for him--never!"
"You mean," asked Mrs. Harmon, "that you have done those things?"
"Yes," he replied. "I wanted to please you, to give you things, and havemoney."
She turned partly away from him, and stood looking down. Jim came to herside. "But we don't care, do we, Lydia?" He put his hands on hershoulders.
She moved away quickly. "What do you mean?"
"Ellis won't help me. Mather is after me. I've got to go away--go awaythis very night. Lydia, come with me!"
"Mr. Wayne," she began slowly.
"No; call me Jim!"
"You poor Jim, then. I can't do this."
"Why?" he stammered. "I thought you loved me?"
"So I do. So I will, if you'll stay here and let things go on as theywere."
"Haven't I shown you I can't?"
"It can be hushed up."
"No, no!" he cried in despair. "And I can't face people; everybody willknow. Lydia, come with me!" He neared her again, stretching out hisarms; as she sought to avoid him, he strode to her side and caught her."Come, come! I can't give you up." He crushed her to him and begankissing her eagerly.
But she resisted with sudden energy. "Let me go! Shall I call theservants?" He released her in astonishment; angrily she moved away fromhim, smoothing her dress. "I believe you're a fool after all, as Mr.Ellis said."
"Lydia!"
"I am Mrs. Harmon," she returned. "If you won't make a fight foryourself, you're not the man I thought you. Go away, then, but not withme."
"Then you don't love me?"
"Boy!" she said, growing scornful. "Love? What is love butconvenience?"
"Oh," he cried, "come! You must come with me. See, I have money. Seven,eight hundred, I think. That will last a long time. We can go somewhere;I can get work; no one will find us."
"And that," she asked, "is all you offer? Eight hundred dollars, and alife in hiding!"
He began to understand, this poor Jim, but it was too much to grasp allat once. "You're fooling me, aren't you? Don't; I can't bear it. Sayyou'll come with me!" Beseeching her with open arms, he went toward herso eagerly that to avoid him she slipped around the table and went tothe door. Then as she looked back at him, awkwardly pursuing, she sawhim as she had never seen him before. He had rumpled his hair again:none but a manly head looks well when mussed. His eyes were bloodshot,his mouth open; she turned away in disgust, and looked into the hallwayto measure her retreat.
There she saw her husband sitting, upright in his chair. With a suddenmovement she threw the curtains wide apart and revealed him to Jim."See," she said. "I have a protector. Now will you leave me?"
A protector! Jim, at first startled, saw the open mouth, the glazingeyes. He pointed, gasping; she saw and was frightened. In three stepsshe was at her husband's side; she grasped his arm. He was dead! Thenshe recovered herself. The doctor had said this might happen.
"He is--is----" hesitated Jim. "Oh, come back here; shut it out!"
"I shall call the servants," she answered. "You had better go."
"Go? And you are free! Lydia," he cried in despair, "for the last time,come with me!"
Cold and steady, she returned the proper response. "And you ask me thatin his dead presence! Free, when his death claims my duty to him? Gowith you, when I should stay and mourn him?"
Had she opened her breast and shown him a heart of stone, she could notbetter have revealed her nature. It was to Jim as if the earth hadyawned before his feet, showing rottenness beneath its flowers. That eyeof ice, that hard mouth, those blasphemous words! Jim did not know, henever could remember, how he got himself from the house.
He fled by night from the pursuit that never was to be. Taking the NewYork train, he lay in his berth, thinking, dozing, thinking again, whilethe train sped through the darkness. He slept and dreamed of burningkisses; he woke to feel the swaying of the car, to hear the whistlescream, or, shutting out all other sounds, to strain his ears for noisesclose at hand--the rustling of the curtains or the soft footfall of theporter. He slept again, and from a nightmare in which a serpent coiledabout him, he came to himself in a quiet station, where steam hissedsteadily, where hurrying steps resounded, where trucks rumbled by, andvoices were heard giving orders. He looked from his berth along thecurtained aisle--what misery besides his own was hiding behind thosehangings? Then he dozed again with the motion of the train, and sawBeth, far removed and wonderfully pure, looking down on him with horror;his dream changed and Mrs. Harmon stood at his side, leading a walkingcorpse. And then he started from sleep with a smothered shriek, and withhis thoughts urged the train to go faster, faster away from Beth, fromthat temptress, from the friends he had betrayed and the mother whom hehad robbed.