The Doomsman
XIX
IN QUINTON EDGE'S GARDEN
It was late that night when the friends finally parted. Their interviewhad been a trying one; it might have ended in a serious estrangement hadConstans been of nature less straightforward or Ulick of dispositionless generous. Friendship between men is a beautiful thing, but of suchdelicate poise that only the touch of a finger is needed to displace it.And the disturbing hand is generally that of a woman. Esmay had comebetween them, and it needed but the mention of her name that a certainconstraint should at once manifest itself.
"We'll have to drop the subject, then, or, rather, leave it where itbegan," said Ulick, breaking the final pause. "Perhaps it's just as wellthat I don't understand the reason why--it's even possible that youdon't know clearly yourself. I sha'n't ask you to tell me."
Constance flushed, and was angry with himself, at this evidence of aweakness so unexpected. "It can't go on in this way," he said,decidedly. "Neither of us could wish that, and it lies with me to makeit plain--to her, you know. Of course, you must have guessed that thereare certain contingencies----" He stopped abruptly, as the remembranceof what Esmay had said rushed back upon him. "I don't see that Boris iswith you," he continued, gravely.
"He lies under the shadow of the southern pines--one of the first tofall that morning when the storm of gray goose arrows drove down uponus. A good end and perhaps the better one."
Constans was silent. Here was one of his contingencies that existed nolonger; with Boris out of the way, the decision that Esmay must make wasenormously simplified. Or was it still more infinitely complicated? Witha woman to consider, the question was not so easy to answer. Nor wouldhe attempt it. He rose, and put out his hand, "I am going to tell her,"he said, simply, and Ulick, in his turn, had no further word to say; sothey parted.
It was not until noon of the following day that Constans foundopportunity to set out for Arcadia House, for all that morning he hadbeen kept in close attendance at the temple. The old priest haddisplayed a new and astonishingly practical interest in the mysteriouspower that had been for so long under his nominal control; he had evenjoined Constans in the latter's daily task of cleaning and polishing upthe working-parts of the machinery, and, as they worked, he hadquestioned him searchingly.
"The Shining One may be a god or no," he said, cunningly, "but it ismeet that I should know him better, if only to serve him the morefaithfully. You, my son, are wise, and you will tell me what you havelearned from your books, that it may be added to all that our fathershave handed down by word of mouth. So shall our lord have great honor,and the unbelievers be put to shame."
Constans had no recourse but to obey, and for several hours they workedsteadily, experimenting with the intricacies of switch-board andcommutator, stringing various wires about the hall and noting theconditions under which they might be charged and discharged from thecentral source of power. Dangerous work, as they came to realize afterConstans had narrowly escaped being burned by contact with a live wire.Yet undeniably fascinating, this uncovering of a great world secret,this sense of growing mastery over a power that could be none else thantwin-brother to the thunderbolt. But the face of the old man gave nosign, no one could have guessed whether he now believed all or believednothing. Certainly he was proving himself an astonishingly apt pupil,his years of practical experience with the machines admirablysupplementing Constans's theoretical knowledge. It was not until mid-daythat he gave the order to shut down the engines, and Constans was atliberty.
He walked rapidly in the direction of Arcadia House, for this was thehour of the principal meal with the Doomsmen, and the streets wereentirely deserted. The abnormally high temperature of yesterday stillprevailed, although the sky was clear, and everywhere could be heard thesound of running and dripping water. The snow, that twenty-four hoursago lay a foot deep upon the ground, was now a mass of slush, makinglocomotion exceedingly disagreeable. How hot the sun was! it might havebeen midsummer instead of the last of March; how oddly sounded thepremature chirping of the birds in the leafless trees!
Arcadia House was once more in sight, and Constans's first thought wasfor the signal. It was still flying from the cupola window, but thatfact, of itself, meant little. All or nothing might have happened in thetwenty-four hours that had elapsed since its first setting.
The rope-ladder was in its hiding-place, and Constans, by its aid, wasquickly on the garden wall. Here he waited for an instant, to look andlisten.
All was quiet, and there was no sign of life in the closely shutteredhouse. The snow in this exposed and sunny enclosure had entirelydisappeared; there would be no fear of his footprints being noticed. Thedogs--but Esmay had assured him that they would be kept in leash so longas the signal was flying. He wasted no further time in reflection, butdescended into Quinton Edge's garden.
The plantation of spruce-trees screened him for the moment; then he ranswiftly across the open space and reached the shelter of the pavilion.It was empty, but he had expected that; he had previously set hisanswering signal at the window of a house overlooking the garden at theback, and he would now have to wait until Esmay should find opportunityto join him.
An hour passed, and there was no sign of her appearance. Constans grewrestless, impatient, uneasy, until finally inaction became intolerable.Certainly Esmay should have come by this time, supposing that she hadobserved his answering signal. She might be absent, ill, a prisoner.
He looked searchingly at the apparently deserted house; the bold thoughtstruck him to examine it more closely, even at the risk of discovery. Hehad his rope-ladder with him, and, at a pinch, could make a run for it.Along the northern wall of the enclosure there was a wind-break ofevergreens that would protect him up to the sunken carriageway, and,surely, he could adventure thus far and then trust Fortune and his ownwits for the next move.
The piece of open ground was some seventy yards in width; he crossed itat speed and dived into the shadow of the trees, keeping close to thewall as he worked along. He reached the road without misadventure anddropped lightly down upon its stone-paved surface. It was cool and dampin this semi-subterranean causeway; the stone flagging was blotched withlichenous growth, and ferns flourished rankly in the wall crevices.Constans stood for a moment gazing up at the blank facade of the northwing, wondering how best to proceed. Then, suddenly, a face appeared ata window; Esmay herself was looking down upon him in wide-eyedastonishment. She hesitated, then motioned him towards the eastern orriver side of the house, and he obeyed unquestioningly. Following thedriveway around, he found himself before the pillared portico thatmasked the front of the main edifice; springing up the steps, he met herstanding at one of the long windows that opened off the drawing-room ofthe mansion. She drew back, inviting him to enter.
"You are very foolish," she said, in a whisper, yet looked upon himapprovingly as a woman always must upon the man who dares.
"I told you that I would come," he answered. "Yesterday it was theunexpected that happened, the return of the expedition. Between thestorm and Ulick, you and the signal were clean put out of mind until toolate."
She flushed. "Then you have seen Ulick?"
"Yes; he is safe and well." He hesitated. How should he tell her thetruth about the other? He ended by blurting it out.
"You know that Boris--he will not return."
"He is dead?"
Constans nodded. The girl turned and looked out of the window forperhaps half a minute.
"I was to have decided between them this very day. He who is my masterhad so determined, and that is why I sent for you. For indeed Icannot----" She stopped; it was so difficult to put into words what mustbe said. Then she went on, speaking softly:
"If it had finally come to that, I must have named Boris, for I couldhave gone on hating him just the same as before. With Ulick it isdifferent, for he really cared."
"But now," interrupted Constans, impatiently, "it is no longer aquestion of choice, but of a decision."
"I have already come to it," she re
turned. "I must escape from Doom; Icannot stay here for even another day."
In their absorption neither noticed how the door leading into thecentral hall slowly opened. It remained ajar, its very attitude that ofa listener.
"You want my help," said Constans, half to himself. He was casting overin his mind the effect that the death of Boris might have upon QuintonEdge's intrigues, and he could not but conclude that Esmay had become afactor more necessary than ever in their successful development. Ulickwas now the sole heir to the old Dom Gillian, and he was hostile toQuinton Edge. Only through Ulick's passion for this slip of a girlcould the Doomsman hope to control him. What an admirable stroke, then,to snatch the card from his hand before he had a chance to play it.
"I will help you," he continued, aloud. "But where to find a boat?"
"There is a canoe which is generally kept moored at the garden dock; youcan see it from the terrace. It is a good, stout dugout, and, oh----"
"Well?"
"There is Nanna, my sister; I cannot go without her."
"She is in no danger," said Constans, with calm indifference. "The boatwill carry only two--is that it?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then; Nanna must remain behind."
"It is impossible to leave her; I have promised."
"No; it is her coming that is impossible, and because I say so."
The girl remained silent. Had she yielded to a will stronger than herown? The door seemed to hesitate; then it closed noiselessly.
Esmay crossed over to one of the windows opening on the garden groundsand flung the shutters open. The coolness of the later afternoon breezefell gratefully upon her hot cheeks; the horizontal, reddish-rays of thedeclining sun emphasized the warm coloring of her hair and complexion,and brought out again those curious carmine flecks in her eyes of topazthat Constans had noticed once or twice before. An odd combination, buthe realized now that he had thought it pretty. The girl divined theunspoken word and drew back a trifle.
Retreat is the first and essential principle of feminine strategy, andin practice it should suggest the ambuscade to even the most thoughtlessof masculine minds. But it never does. Constans stepped up a littlecloser.
"Nanna must go with me," repeated the girl, hurriedly. "You will help usto get out the boat and tell me in what direction Croye lies. We shallfind our way, never fear, for I know the stars, and Nanna can paddle allday long as well as a man."
"And what will you do when you get to Croye?" asked Constans, gently."Must you hear the whole truth about your uncle, Messer Hugolin? It isnot that he is unable but unwilling to turn a hand in your behalf. Thehumblest shelter, the meanest food--I know what you would say. But noteven a night's housing in the cattle-byre or a plate of broken victualsis to be had from Messer Hugolin unless one is prepared to pay, androundly, too. Remember that I, too, am of his blood, and have dwelt inhis house."
The girl's eyes grew cloudy and troubled. "There is the town itself,"she faltered. "Surely among so many people there must be some chance fora livelihood--there is work---"
"Not of the honest kind and for such as you," he retorted. "Must I makeyou understand? Look at yourself, then, in the glass behind you."Suddenly he took her hand between both his own. "Who would dare hint atwork to those fingers so slimly white? But one may live delicately, evenin Croye."
The girl recoiled as though from a blow, and Constans felt the shame ofhaving actually struck one. "But not you," he stammered, and ragedinwardly at himself. She forgave him in a look. "But, Esmay," he said,humbly. She smiled to him to go on.
"You are thinking of the world beyond, but indeed you do not knowit--its cruelty to the weak, above all to a woman. Here, at least----"
"Here the least of all," she interrupted, but would not look at him tomake her meaning clearer.
"Yet you see how I could not let you go alone or even with Nanna," heurged.
"Yes, I understand that. What is it that you wish me to do?"
Constans started. Was he, then, prepared to make himself responsible forthis young creature's future? Of course she could not remain longer in aposition so dangerous and equivocal. But why should she not bereasonable? It was true that Nanna was quite capable of managing theboat; he had only to assist them to get away and give the word to Ulickthat he might follow. Ulick would go to the end of the world to serveher.
A thoroughly sensible solution of the problem, and then in a twinkleConstans forgot that he had ever wanted Esmay to be reasonable, forgotthe faith owed to a friend and the vengeance sworn against an enemy,forgot times and seasons and the peril in which they stood, forgot allthings save that he was a man and she was a woman, and that he hadsuddenly come to desire her above all else in life.
"A woman, and some day he would come to know what that meant." Now heknew.
Esmay stood waiting for the answer to her question.
"You cannot go alone," he said, in a half-whisper, "and your sister'sprotection is useless. You will have to trust yourself to me."
Esmay had turned away her head, but a treacherous mirror intercepted theconfession in her eyes and flung it back to him who had compelled itsutterance. Now a man may never yet have seen that look on a woman'sface, but he need not fear lest he fail to recognize it when at last histime comes. Constans saw, and suddenly the primeval passion of the worldseized and shook him. "I want you," he said, and would have takenher--then stopped, confounded and appalled.
Through the open window came the sharp, staccato yelp of a hound atfield. Yes; the dogs were out, and already they were at work, ranging ingreat semicircles, alert with the joy of the chase. There was Blazer,with his tawny muzzle, and behind him Fangs, the great, black bitch,half mastiff and half bloodhound, the saliva dripping from her jaws asshe ran. Constans drew a deep breath as he watched them. Already theywere nearing the pavilion; in a few seconds at the farthest they wouldbe giving tongue upon the striking of his scent. He must decide quicklythen, and he turned to Esmay.
A black suspicion gathered in Constans's mind as he looked upon her muteagony and misinterpreted it.
"What is it?" he asked, with rising anger, but she answered no word. Thememory of the ancient betrayal rushed back upon him.
"Perhaps another bracelet of carbuncles?" She shrank back as though froma blow.
"Esmay!" he said, roughly, and shook her by the shoulders, not being infear for himself but intent upon knowing the truth, however incredible.Then as she still gave no sign he flung her from him and strode away,the flame of a fierce anger in his heart. To die here--the base fate ofa runaway slave upon whose trail the master has set his hounds--no, itshould not be! Yet, with only his bare hands, for there was not even abillet of wood lying about--well, if it must be-- Then he bethought himof the boat that Esmay had told him was always kept moored at the gardenlanding-stage. He glanced out and saw that the canoe had disappeared. Heturned to the girl and announced the fact. "If indeed it were everthere," he added. It seemed as though her eyes pointed to the doorleading to the other part of the house, but he shook his head. "I wouldrather meet it in the open," he said, coldly.
He considered a moment longer, and threw off his black soutane, havingdetermined to take to the water, although it was truly a desperatechance, the current running like a mill-race with the ebbing tide, and,moreover, being choked with ice-floes. Ah, there was Blazer's bay, hemust lose no time. Without another glance at that silent, rigid figure,he stepped quickly through the long window and gained the portico.Something snapped in the girl's throat, her lips quivered hysterically,and she laughed aloud, a flood of silvery sound.