The Doomsman
XX
THE SILVER WHISTLE BLOWS
Constans remained motionless at the window. Every instinct ofself-preservation urged him onward, but yet he stopped and listened to agirl's laughter. It ceased, and he sprang forward--too late! for alreadythe blood-hounds were upon him.
Fangs, the bitch, was in the lead, and as she sprang Constans kicked outsavagely, his heavy boot catching the animal squarely on the flank. Theportico had no guard-railing, and the dog, taken off her balance, wasprecipitated to the terrace below. Constans shouted exultantly, butthere was still Blazer with whom to deal. Before he could recover, thebrute had him by the throat and was bearing him downward; man and dogrolled together on the stone-paved floor of the gallery. Somethingpassed with the swift rustle of wind-distended garments, but Constanscould see nothing, his eyes being blinded by the acrid foam from theanimal's jaws. Fortunately, the high collar of leather that he woreprevented the dog's teeth from fastening on his actual throat, but thatadvantage could not endure, and already he could feel that the animalwas shifting its hold for a better one. Then, as he despaired, his righthand struck upon something round and hard in the outside-pocket of hisdoublet; it was the handle of the loaded revolver that he had carriedfor a month past. A supreme effort and he managed to seize it; withoutattempting to draw it from the pocket he pulled the trigger. The reportfollowed, and immediately he felt the dog's grip relax; he pushed thedead weight from off his chest and rose to his feet.
Up from the river terrace came Esmay, and behind her ran Quinton Edge.Constans turned to meet them; then, as they gained the portico, he sawthe girl's face go white and realized dizzily the danger that stillmenaced him. But he was past caring now, and so stood stupidly in histracks as the great, black bitch crawled up behind him, her belly closeto the ground, and crouching for her rush. He heard Quinton Edge shoutand saw him raise his hand; the dog, recognizing her master's voice,even as she leaped, was quick to obey, arching and stiffening her backin mid-air so as to break the force of her spring; he saw her fall in aheap at his feet, and lie there whimpering. Whereupon, for a briefmoment, the trees seemed to bow themselves before him and the sky grewblack.
When again he found himself, he saw Quinton Edge bending over the deadhound and inspecting, with curious attention, the ragged hole in itschest. But the Doomsman asked no questions; he spoke, lightly andcarelessly, as was his wont.
"Fortunate that I happened to be returning from an excursion on theriver, for my pets are a difficult pair to manage, even for one whocarries a thunderbolt in his doublet-pocket. You scored nicely on poorBlazer, but I venture to think that Fangs would have avenged her matehad I let her have her way." He stopped and patted the brute's hugehead. "My compliments, old woman; doubtless this visitor of ours willalways remember you respectfully as one who feared neither God, man; nordevil, but only Quinton Edge. Now be off with you." The hound licked hermaster's hand and limped away. Quinton Edge straightened up and passedhis lace-edged handkerchief across his lips. Then, with smooth irony:"An honor, indeed, to entertain so unexpected a guest at Arcadia House;to what happy chance am I indebted?"
"That I am here should be condemnation sufficient for your purpose,"said Constans, slowly. "I have nothing to add to it."
He hardly troubled to look up as he spoke; exhausted and dispirited ashe was, what did it matter what he answered.
"Then you do not even plead a first offence?"
Constans remained silent. Like a disobedient school-urchin, he toldhimself, glowering sulkily in the presence of his tutor. Between thisman and himself lay an enmity that was deeper than the grave, and yet toQuinton Edge he was merely the petulant boy to be scolded and punishedor, even more contemptuously, ignored. Was he never to stand before himas man to man?
"It is just as well," continued the Doomsman, "since there have beenother eyes who have kept watch for me. I am not entirely uninformedconcerning a romantic adventure of two days ago at the pavilion in thegarden. But perhaps on this count the maid may choose to answer forherself, speech being a woman's prerogative, and ofttimes heropportunity."
But Esmay, holding herself as straight and white as the portico columnbehind her, made no sign of even hearing, and Quinton Edge fell upon asudden earnestness of speech and manner.
"Then since neither of you have a word to say, you must perforce listento me of a matter equally concerning you, Esmay Scarlett, a daughter ofthe Doomsmen, and you, Constans, son of Gavan of the keep. For to-daythe fate of the world lies between us three--a ball that we may tossfrom hand to hand.
"You know both the strength and the weakness of Doom. We have lostheavily in the expedition to the south; every man in the reserve mustnow be called upon to fill up the ranks. Dom Gillian is fast sinkinginto the grave, where Boris already lies. Ulick, who must now succeed,in the ordinary course, has only physical courage to recommend him. Thatis not enough if Doom is to remain mistress of the world.
"Yet if our weaknesses are patent, no less apparent are our springs ofpower. Here in Doom and here alone will you find that unity of actionwhich makes for empire. Were the Stockaders and the House People to joinhands they could overwhelm us in a night, but they will not, sincejealousy digs an ever-widening chasm. Moreover, it is a strong positionthat we hold here in this wilderness of stone, when every brick is aman. There is no need for boasting; this is the truth, as you know.
"Yet there is one thing lacking--a man to lead and a brain to guide.Ulick may possess the strong arm, and doubtless I have the wits, but Ifear that, like oil and water, we, too, shall never mix. Besides, I maygrow weary of the business, or the time may come when I must turn myback upon it all. Yet I could not be content that chaos should reign inmy stead. I must leave a man behind me, and that man is you, Constans,son of Gavan.
"Nay, but hear me out. Apostate, renegade--I know what you would say.Yet what are these but words--mere words. You are alone in the world,"and here for just an instant Quinton Edge dropped his eyes, although theeven tones of his voice never wavered. "You owe no debt of gratitude toeither Stockader or Houseman. A crust from one, a bone from the other;they would have done as much for a starving dog. You see that I havewatched you longer than you have been aware.
"And so I offer you the first and last of the things that all men crave.The first is love, and she who stands there is fair, else why do I findyou in my garden? The last is power, and it is the world that I putunder your feet."
He stopped abruptly and seemed to catch at something mounting upward inhis throat. Then he continued:
"There is still the blood-debt between us, and I promise you it shall bepaid and to the last drop. The only condition is that you must leave itto another to name the day of reckoning; that privilege belongs neitherto you nor to me. Rest assured that when that day does come, I shall beready; ay, more than ready to pay my score."
Again silence fell between them for the space of a full minute. QuintonEdge turned to adjust the jabot of fine lace about his neck, and that hemight have both hands free he laid upon a wicker garden table theobject he had been carrying. Constans saw that it was a bunch ofMay-bloom, a glorious cluster of pink-and-white blossom.
"I am waiting for my answer," said Quinton Edge.
Constans tried to command his voice, but he could not speak, and QuintonEdge turned to Esmay:
"We have both of us omitted to remember where courtesy is first due.Madam, I should have informed myself of your pleasure in this matter."
"No, oh no!" she stammered.
The Doomsman laughed. "Yet I must ask you to reconsider; nay, even touse what arts you possess to induce this short-sighted young gentlemanto accept my generous proposition. For, mind you, there is a consequentupon his refusal--and yours."
The hidden fire in the girl's eyes seemed to leap forth, a bolt of fieryscorn that would have fused, upon the instant, metal less resisting.
"A consequent--of course. And it is----"
"A lofty one. He mounts either to Dom Gillian's chair or to the yard armof the _Bla
ck Swan_. A spy's death for a spy--it is but justice."
Esmay turned to Constans.
"Surely it were shame enough for any woman to find herself made part ofsuch a bargain. But my humiliation goes even deeper, for I must parademy poor wares before you like any huckster, beseeching you to buy. Mylord, it is for your life, and I am but a flower that it may please youto wear to-day and cast aside to-morrow. Buy of me, my lord, and at whatprice you will--it is for your life. But be quick; he will not waitover-long." She plucked at his sleeve. "Do you not understand? The menare coming; you can hear the rattle of the sheaf-blocks at the mast-headof the galley--Constans!"
But Constans looked only at his enemy, Quinton Edge. "I am ready," hesaid, coldly.
Esmay passed through the long window and so into the drawing-room. Toher overly excited senses the signal was already sounding in her ears,and a gradual faintness mounted to her brain, even as water rises aboutthe swimmer advancing through the shingle to the first shock of thesurge. Then, in deadly truth, she heard Quinton Edge blow his whistle,and the darkness closed in upon her.
For the second time the Doomsman raised the pipe to his lips. It slippedfrom his fingers and fell to the garden-table at his side.
As he bent to recover it the subtle, uprising scent of the May-bloomstruck him like a blow; a dark flush overspread his brow. He spoke,quickly, insistently:
"The canoe is still at the landing-stage. Go, while there is yet time."
He seized Constans by the shoulders, slewing him around and pushing himtowards the steps that led to the terrace.
"Go, and forget all that you have seen and heard in Doom the Forbidden.You and your secrets are known; be content to leave my people withtheirs. And to me my memories."
The madness of protest, of resistance, was still upon Constans, and yethe found himself yielding to this stronger will. Mechanically, he leapedto the terrace below, and from thence ran on to the landing-stage justas Kurt, the Knacker hobbled around the corner of the house at the headof a squad of sailors from the _Black Swan_. An arrow or two flew wild,but Constans quickly had the boat in the current, which was running outon a strong ebb-tide, and so was safe from further molestation. Half amile down-stream he ventured to make a landing. The dozen or so ofrifles and store of ammunition that he had left in hiding at this pointwere too precious a treasure to be abandoned without an effort. Yethardly had he transferred the last case of cartridges to his boat thanhe became aware that the Doomsmen were close upon him, and this time hegot a bruised shoulder from a spent cross-bolt by way of a partingsalute. The canoe was heavily laden, but fortunately the wind had gonedown with the sun, and the water was unusually smooth. Constans bent tohis paddle, shaping his course to the southwest, the direction of hisold home on the West Inch.
How cool and pure the air! How clean and sweet the stars that shoneabove him! Little by little the fever and the fret of life departed fromhim, and he was at peace. He wondered now at the madness that hadpossessed him, at the passion that had thrilled him at the touch of awoman's hand. He had come so near to proving himself a traitor, arecreant to all that was sacred in his life. And then a hound had bayed,and a girl had laughed, and the shining bubble had vanished into theair. Beguiled, betricked, betrayed--base repetition of the ancientinjury. What a fool he had been!
Then, his heart being sore, he tried to comfort himself after a man'sfashion. It had been all a mistake from the beginning; he had neverreally loved this amber-haired enchantress; it had been the infatuationof passion only, and he had escaped; let him be thankful. Or evengranting that love lay behind, was not all of life before him? One dayhad passed, but another was soon to dawn, a day for new purposes, freshconsecrations. In his present exalted mood, even his long-cherishedvengeance upon Quinton Edge seemed a small, a contemptible thing. Whatwere either his love or his hate in the world-drama that was beingenacted under his eyes. Again, as in days long past, he thrilled to thethought of a new and larger life, the redemption of humanity, theestablishment of peace and righteousness, the shadow of Doom foreverlifted from the land. There were the rifles and ammunition lying at hisfeet, potencies irresistible; surely this was the fulness of time. Whata splendid vision! How glorious his own part in it might be! And so,through the night, he dreamed and drifted.
* * * * *
It was a week later that Esmay looked into Nanna's face bending overher, and knew that remembrance had come again. She had listenedsilently, as Nanna, between fits of weeping and stormy self-reproach,made her confession, of her eavesdropping at the door, of her jealousterror lest she should be separated from her darling, of her new-bornhatred of this Constans, who dared to stand between herself and Esmay,of the final madness that had tempted her to the unchaining of the dogs.Yet, when it was finished, Esmay had put forth her hand and drawn therough, tear-stained face close to her own. "You could not know, dear,"she said, quietly, "and it was all for love of me."
It was not until the end of another week, a sunny day, when she hadventured out for the first time, that Esmay found courage to ask thequestion that had risen so often to her lips.
"When did the _Black Swan_ sail away?"
"That same morning," answered Nanna. "Although it's a living wonder thatI should have cared to take notice of anything beyond your face that layso still and white upon my arm."
"And our master--he carried out his purpose?"
Nanna looked puzzled. Then she answered, carelessly, "Does he ever failin that?"
There was a pause, and Esmay turned again to look upon the shiningriver.
"He might have saved his life--and lost it," she whispered to herself."I am glad for him. And for myself--for now he knows."