CHAPTER XXI.

As though paralyzed by the audacity of the situation, Ben Mauprat stood

there regarding the three.

Not a single word was spoken, and for seemingly an interminable time

a silence that was painful rested upon them; then, with a snarl of

vengeance, he stepped forward, his hand extended as though to snatch

the boy from Leonie's arms, but quicker than thought Liz had placed

herself between them.

"Don't do it, Ben," she cried hoarsely. "I've been a good wife and a

true one to you, but you must not carry this any further than you have.

God knows I do not know how it can be, but I have loved you with the

devotion that few women have shown the husbands who have treated them

with love and tenderness, and I have had nothing but blows and curses

in return. I have never opened my mouth against it, and I never shall,

if you kill me; but you have done your last to Dick. Listen, Ben; he is

dying. Do you hear? Dying, Ben, and you are the cause of it. That girl

whom you beat, and almost killed, has more love for your own child than

you have, for she gave the liberty that she might have secured for his

sake; and as there is a God above us, I will protect her with my life!

I have been a coward just as long as I shall. As far as I am concerned

I am willing to bear anything, but for Dick's sake the end has come."

There was a dramatic intensity about the situation that was thrilling.

The woman's tone was not loud, but her arm was raised until she seemed

to tower above Ben Mauprat like a giantess above a dwarf.

Her eyes glowed with the passion that was moving her, her very bosom

seemed to swell until it threatened bursting.

The last words of her sentence were given a force that caused Leonie to

almost rise to her feet.

"Stand out of the way!" exclaimed Mauprat slowly, his eyes glowing with

rage. "I don't want to kill you."

"You may do it and welcome if you wish," exclaimed Liz, vehemently,

"but you shall not kill my child! Do you hear that, Ben? He may not

live an hour through the cruelty that you have already shown him, but

that hour shall be passed in peace. You beat him last night and again

this morning, and ten minutes ago the doctor told us that it would be

nursing and chance alone that could save his life, and that chance he

shall have! Don't go near him, Ben! Don't try it! I love him as the

only thing that holds me to life. Without him there is nothing in all

this world that makes it worth living, and as long as I can I will keep

him with me. You made him a hunchback, you have robbed him of every

hope, but you shall not take the few hours that remain to him. I beg

that you will listen to me, for if you refuse, as surely as you take a

step in his direction, I will kill you."

There was a hideous emphasis upon the last words that would have told

a man more of a believer in the vengeance of a woman, that the worm had

turned at last.

But Ben Mauprat was not a believer in that sort of thing. Once a

coward, always a coward to him.

He laughed fiendishly.

"'Pon my word, Liz, you are almost as good as a play!" he cried

brutally. "If it were not setting a bad example I would excuse you for

what you have done, on account of the amusement you have afforded me,

but I am afraid that if I did that, the next thing you would do would

be to allow this girl who has won your heart through her attention to

that brat, to escape, and so ruin all my chances for wealth. The young

one has always stood between me and your obedience! He has caused you

to oppose my will oftener than anything else. He has caused you to

get numberless beatings, and therefore the very best thing that could

happen to you as well as to me, would be to have him die. I am not

going to kill him outright, but I am going to show you that I will

stand none of your rebellion, and that I will listen to none of your

threats. I am going to lock that dangerous little rebel up, to settle

with her later, and then I am going to give the boy the beating that

his mother deserves."

"Don't do it, Ben! He has malignant diphtheria, and he would but die

under it!"

The words were spoken in an awe-struck whisper, but they only seemed to

anger the man the more.

"Malignant diphtheria, has he?" he exclaimed, harshly. "Well he may

give it to the rest of us, and the best thing that can be done is to

put him out of the way. Don't give us any more lip, Liz, but stand

aside!"

He put out his hand to compel her obedience, but she only caught it,

and held him convulsively.

"Don't, Ben!" she cried, wildly. "For the love of God have mercy! I

have never asked many things of you, and I beg this as I would not

plead for my own life! Oh, Ben, have mercy!"

"I am tired of this now! Shut up, or----"

"Ben, remember how true I have been. Remember----"

"Let me go, do you hear?"

"Ben, have pity! I swear that it is the last favor that I shall ever

ask!"

For all answer he gave her a terrible fling, that sent her spinning

across the room.

With a single stride he reached Leonie.

In another instant it is not to be doubted that he would have snatched

the already dying child from her arms, but the desperate mother again

interfered.

She did not fall, but maddened by her fear for the little, unfortunate

creature in which was centered her only love, her only happiness, she

seized a stick of wood that lay near the stove on the floor, and as Ben

would have snatched the child from its helpless protector, she brought

the cudgel down upon the back of his head with a force that, for a

woman of her build, was supernatural.

Without a word or even a moan he fell forward upon his face and lay

there like one dead.

A look of horror, somewhat tempered with relief, passed over Leonie's

face.

But Liz seemed suddenly converted into a maniac.

A shrill laugh fell from her lips, but almost before it reached the

atmosphere, it was changed to a cry.

She flung herself upon her knees before the boy and took his little,

burning hand in hers, pressing her hot lips upon it wildly.

"I have killed him!" she whispered, hoarsely. "Do you hear that, my

darling? I have killed him, and in a moment they will come to take your

mother away to hang her. But you must not fret, Dick. I knew that it

would come sooner or later, and it has come now, but you must not let

it worry you, my darling. Oh, Dick! Dick! Dick!"

The words faded into a sob that was terrible.

Leonie laid her hand upon the bowed head gently.

"Think what you are doing, Liz," she said, almost tenderly. "The child

is very ill--dying, perhaps, and you are exciting him like this. For

his sake, calm yourself, Liz, and listen to me."

"Calm!" echoed the poor woman, as though that were the only word that

she had heard. "How can I be calm when I have killed my husband and my

child is dying? Oh, girl, do you know what that means to me? Have you

any idea what it means to be all alone in the world with a weight like

that upon your conscience?"

"Hush!" cried Leonie, earnestly. "You have not killed Ben. You have

only stunned him, and if he returns to consciousness to find us still

here, I would not give much for any of our lives. Do you hear me, Liz?

Do you not see the necessity of our taking Dick away before he returns

to life?"

For the first time the woman seemed to be aroused.

She lifted herself and looked wildly about her.

"You are right!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "He may not be dead--child, it

would be better if I had killed him, for when he awakens he will kill

us all. What shall we do? Help me to think! My brain seems to be on

fire!"

"Is there no one whom you know to whom we could go for protection?"

"With him?" cried Liz, pointing to the child. "You must be mad. Do

you think any one is going to risk a disease like that for his sake

or mine? There is nothing that we can do, but you can go. There is no

reason that you should die because we must."

"Do you think I am such a coward that I would leave you here alone? I

would rather die with you. No, Liz! If one of us must remain we must

all do so, but--I have an idea, Liz. It is a hopeless situation for

you anyway, and therefore, it cannot be any worse. Every moment may be

precious to us now, and therefore, we must act quickly. We must call

upon the police for protection. We must have an officer here and have

Ben arrested when he awakens."

"But----"

"There is no time to argue it, Liz. It is a last resort."

"Then you go. I will keep the child."

"No. I must remain. If he were to awaken and find you here without me,

he would kill you without the hesitation of a second; but if he should

recover during your absence, I could invent some story that would keep

him talking until your return. Do not fear for me, Liz, but, for God's

sake, hurry!"

For only one second Liz paused; then, with not a glance in the

direction of the prostrate man, she murmured a word of blessing upon

the head of the girl who had, at the risk of her own life, befriended

her, and hastened away.

With a heart that seemed to stand still with dread, Leonie awaited.

Only once she looked at the child. The great eyes were fixed pleadingly

upon her, as though beseeching her not to forsake him.

She pressed her hand over them, to close the burning lids.

"Don't fret, Dick!" she said. "Nothing shall harm you, my poor little

one, until I have been killed first."

The sound of her own voice, in the terrible stillness that had fallen

upon them, was uncanny. She shivered with fright.

She turned from the unfortunate child, and cast a look of dread upon

the man beside her, and, to her horror, found the hideous, glaring eyes

fixed upon her.

She could not prevent a little shriek of terror. She watched him as

though fascinated, while very slowly he arose to his feet, never once

removing his terrible, glassy eyes from her face.

It seemed ages until he had gained his feet, and after he had, he still

stood glaring at her, slowly rolling up his sleeves in a manner that

seemed to paralyze her with horror.

Leonie, the Typewriter: A Romance of Actual Life · 第 21 / 37 章