During the homeward trip Elizabeth was as one in a stupor. When they
reached the brow of the hill above the village, Harold stopped the car.
Elizabeth half turned about in her seat, resting her elbow on the back
above and lifting her hand to her eyes to shade them from the light. She
gazed upon the glory of the western sky where the sun was dropping into
a bed of gold, lavishly splashing the low-hanging clouds with a radiance
that seemed to drip from their edges. A shock suddenly brought her back
to reality with a pain at her heart. Silhouetted against the gold of the
sky-line, his head bared, his shoulders thrown back, was a tall figure:
the son of Adoniah Phillips!
"That's a good view for sore hearts, Bets," commented her brother.
She caught her breath in quick gasps. "Yes. But, oh, Harold, it's so
hard!"
"I know," he agreed, taking her hand. "Have you thought out a line of
action? Where shall we begin?"
The girl did not answer. Harold followed with his eyes the direction of
her gaze. His hand tightened in hers. The minister had just recognized
them, and was waving his cap high over his head in welcome. Elizabeth
lifted her handkerchief and permitted the light breeze to flutter it.
Harold answered with a swing of his arm. Mr. McGowan started toward
them.
"Drive me home, Harold. I can't see him now."
"But, Sis, this may be our only time together. Tell me what to do. I'm
lost. I don't know which way to turn."
"I must see Uncle Josiah first. He has had time to think a lot, and he
may know how to help us. I'm going to his place to-night."
"By George! You're right. I hadn't thought of going to him. He does know
something about this. He was in my office the other day, and asked a
host of questions. He'll help us if he can. Why not stop there now?"
"Not now. I'm not decent to see any one, or be seen. Please, take me
home."
He threw in the clutch and the car shot down the hill, past a curious
crowd in front of the general store, and on up the knoll into the Fox
estate.
Mr. Fox had not yet returned from Riverhead. He had telephoned that he
might get home for dinner. But the dinner hour came and went, and still
he did not return. After the silent, and all but untasted, meal,
Elizabeth left the house by the rear entrance. She hurried along the
walk, out through the wicket gate at the back, and down to the beach.
From here she turned into the path that zigzagged across town-lots, over
sand-dunes, through brush heaps, to the rear of the Captain's place.
She walked round the house to the side door. She lifted the heavy
knocker, and held it tightly as though fearing to let it drop against
the rusty iron plate. What if Uncle Josiah had forgotten his engagement,
and was not home? But Uncle Josiah had never yet forgotten a promise he
had made her. She let the piece of iron fall. The sound echoed through
the house. It frightened her, and she poised as though of a mind to run.
Instead of the usual hearty boom for her to "Come in," the door swung
wide, and she stood face to face with the minister.
"Oh!" she cried, stepping back into the shadows.
"I've been expecting you, Miss Fox. Will you come in?" he cordially
invited.
"You were expecting me? But I----"
Hardly knowing what she did, and certainly not realizing why she did it,
she accepted the invitation and entered. Her eyes slowly widened as he
closed the door. She stood poised like a wild thing ready for flight at
the slightest warning.
"I trust that your father isn't ill again?" said the minister
solicitously.
"No-o. That is, not yet. He's quite well, thank you. He isn't home, or
wasn't when I left."
"I'm glad."
"I beg your pardon?"
"I'm glad your father isn't ill," he explained, growing quite as
embarrassed as she.
"Oh! Yes. Thank you."
"Miss Fox, something must be wrong. May I help you?"
"No. Really, no. That is, not bad wrong, yet," she stammered. "Only he
promised to be home, and--well, he isn't."
"The Captain will be back soon. He asked me to entertain you till his
return. I fear I'm not doing it very well."
"Indeed, you are. That is, I guess you are. Is the Captain far away?"
"He took Miss Pipkin over to Miss Splinter's. Miss Splinter is very ill.
Won't you be seated?"
"Yes, thank you. No, I think I'll stand. Dear me! What can be the matter
with me? I'm acting quite stupid and silly, am I not?"
She tried to laugh, but her dry throat gave a cracked sound. Mr. McGowan
noticed, and did not complete the smile that was beginning to form about
his own lips.
"Really, I think I'll be going, and come back again. I feel so very
queerly, and--uncomfortable with--with----"
"With me in the room?" he finished with a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I'll
step into my study. If you need anything, please call."
He had reached the door and the knob had turned under his hand when she
gave a cry, between a sob and a plea. He swung quickly about.
"Don't leave me, please!" she pleaded. "I mean, don't go on my
account."
"But I seem to be disturbing you, and I don't wish to do that," he said
kindly.
She broke down completely. "Oh, I do need you so much! Please stay! I'm
afraid, afraid of everything, afraid of myself! You said one should keep
a cool head, but I can't! I can't! I've tried so hard. Oh, Mack--Mr.
McGowan, please help me!"
She finished her broken plea in muffled sobs in the folds of his coat.
He drew her against him till his arms ached. She knew now that she could
make of her love for this man no voluntary offering in order to save her
father humiliation. All afternoon and evening she had been forming that
resolution. But this love that had come to her, pure and undefiled from
the hand of God, could not be denied for the sins of one man, even
though that man be her own father. She felt herself being swept out into
an engulfing current, nor did she wish to stay its overwhelming power.
For the first time that afternoon she was conscious of real strength.
Mr. McGowan tried to lift her face from his shoulder, but she clung the
closer.
"I want to look at you," he said jubilantly.
"Not just yet!" she sobbed. "I want to get used to this."
"Then, let me hear you say you love me!" entreated the man.
"Mack McGowan, I love you!" She drew back a pace. "Now, you may look at
me just once, though I don't look like much with my eyes all swelled up
and red."
He drank in the beauty of the face before him. "Thank God! You do love
me! It isn't just pity."
She nodded her head so vigorously that the wisps of fair hair fell about
her large blue eyes. "Yes, I love you, Mack. There, now, you've looked
long enough. Kiss me, please." She lifted her face.
Mr. McGowan was unstintingly obeying the command when a loud knock
jarred the side door. They started and sprang apart.
"Who can that be knocking like that?" asked the girl, hastily tucking
away the stray locks of hair.
"It must be the Captain. But I wonder----"
Elizabeth laughed, and pointed toward a window where the curtain was
above the lower sash. The Captain had seen them!
"I don't care if he did see. Let me go to the door."
She had taken one step in that direction when the door flew back and in
came Mr. James Fox.
"Father! You!"
Without replying, Mr. Fox glared ferociously at the minister. His hand
trembled on the head of his walking-stick. The blood surged into his
face. Elizabeth, growing alarmed, started toward her father. But the
Elder waved her back. Mr. McGowan broke the awful silence.
"We can't help it, Mr. Fox. I'm very sorry that this has come against
your will."
"So it is true. God help me!" The Elder's words came with surprising
calm, but his tone was harsh and hard. "So it is as I was warned. It is
hard to believe that my little Beth has proven untrue to me." He was
breathing hard. Pointing his stick in the direction of the minister, he
finished with savage calm, "My little girl here alone, and with a man
like you! God help me!"
"Be careful!" ordered Mr. McGowan. His words were sharp, as with blazing
eyes he met the glare of the Elder.
"Father, you must not talk and look like that."
"Alone with him!" repeated Mr. Fox. "I saw the whole shameless
proceeding through that window, and it is needless for you to deny what
has happened."
"We are not trying to deny it, Father. I'm proud of it. We tried so hard
not to love each other, too, when we found out how set you were against
it. But we couldn't help it. We did try, didn't we, Mack?"
"You tried!" sneered her father. "I suppose this man forced you to steal
from your home under cover of night, and come to him, over paths that
were dark and out of the way, against your will. Do you expect me to
believe that?"
Elizabeth came between the men as the minister took a step toward the
Elder.
"I've done nothing to be ashamed of. I came here of my own accord, and
you have no right to spy on me through those who are willing to do such
vulgar things because you pay them. I came here to see Uncle Josiah. He
wasn't in, and Mr. McGowan was--well, he was entertaining me."
"That will do! You shall not add perjury to your sin. You knew perfectly
well that Pott was not home. You knew he was in the city. Your stories
don't hang together."
"Father, you must not talk to me like that. Uncle Josiah came home this
morning, and I made arrangements to meet him here to-night."
"And he was conveniently out, I suppose, so you might meet this fellow
here alone."
"If you refuse to listen to reason, you may think what you like. I love
that man you've been maligning!" she cried, her eyes filling with angry
tears.
"You love him? Are you brazen enough to stand there and say that to my
face?" he shouted, losing his self-control. "Him! You! I've a
mind----Why, you silly little sentimental fool. You go so far as to
flaunt----"
"Mr. Fox, allow me to explain," interrupted the minister.
The Elder did not heed the note of warning in the steady voice, but
clutching his walking-stick with nervous fingers he started toward his
daughter.
"Stand back!"
Mr. Fox stood back, almost falling against the wall. The minister's
voice was as hard as his own.
"It seems that the time has come for a reckoning," said Mr. McGowan.
"You have stood in my way long enough. Elizabeth, will you kindly step
into my study?"
"I prefer to remain here, Mack. You may need me."
"What I say may be quite unpleasant."
"I may need to add to what you say. I'll stay."
"Very well. Mr. Fox, our strained relations must come to an end. If you
can show any just cause why I'm at fault, I shall do all in my power to
rectify it. I do not know the slightest reason for your attitude against
me, but----"
"You lie, sir!"
The minister's lips tightened. "Only your age protects you in the use of
that word to me. I repeat what I have said,--and it will be as well for
you not to question my integrity again,--I do not know why you have
treated me as you have. I now demand an explanation."
"If you will favor us with a little of your family history first," said
the Elder with a sneering laugh, "there will be no need of any further
explanation on my part."
"You seem to think me a vagabond, or something quite as bad if not
worse. Well, I'm not. My family history is nothing to brag about, but
the record is clean. If you'll be seated I'll be glad to furnish you
with such bits as may be of interest to you. It isn't so difficult to
hold one's temper while sitting."
Elizabeth lifted an imploring face to the minister. "Please, dear, don't
say anything more! For my sake, don't. Wait till you both have had time
to think over how foolish this all is."
"Foolish, you think! He need not speak, so far as I'm concerned,"
declared Mr. Fox, refusing the proffered chair. "I know his whole
miserable story. I knew his parents. I take back my request. You
doubtless would not tell the truth. What I wish my daughter to know, I
shall tell her in the privacy of our own home."
Elizabeth looked as if she could not trust her own ears for what she had
just heard from her father's lips.
"Mr. Fox, Elizabeth shall know my story now, and from my own lips. I
have absolutely nothing to hide or be ashamed of. My father and mother
were honest people. If it be a crime to be poor, then, they were guilty
beyond redemption. They came to this country from Australia when I was
little more than an infant. My father took ill and died shortly after
our arrival. Mother said his death was the result of confining work he
had done in Australia. I can remember my mother quite well, but she died
before I was five. I was taken into a neighboring family, almost as poor
as mine had been. As I grew up I worked hard, and saved every penny. My
mother had left me one heritage that was priceless, a craving for
knowledge. The people who brought me up sacrificed to help me along till
I reached high school. I worked my way up through four hard years, into
college, and then on into the seminary.
"That is about all there is to my uninteresting history. I came here as
a candidate for this church. For the first time in my whole life I was
beginning to taste real happiness. But no sooner had I taken my first
breath of independence than I saw I must fight to hold the ground I had
gained. I gloried in the opportunity. I was glad that I could do for
your town what no other minister had been able to do. I took special
delight in getting hold of those lads and men at the Inn. Hicks and his
crowd didn't trouble me one bit, or even alter one plan I had for the
members of the club. I didn't even grow discouraged when the opposition
came from you, for I kept hoping that you'd see your mistake and come
over to my aid. But time went on, and you did not. I sought reasons for
your injustice. I concluded at last that you had discovered my love for
your daughter, and that you did not consider my family connections to be
sufficiently strong to permit any such union. I did all in my power to
argue myself out of that love. But I soon discovered that a man cannot
argue a cyclone out of his heart any more than he can argue one out of
God's sky.
"If there is no other reason for your actions, sir, than my love for
Elizabeth your opposition may as well be withdrawn right here and now.
Otherwise, I shall marry Elizabeth against your will."
"It seems to me, young man, that you are quite sure of yourself about
something you can't do. I admire your nerve,"--the Elder was pulling out
each word with violent tugs at the side-whiskers,--"but we'll see, sir,
who holds the trumps."
"You mean that you offer me no other alternative than to fight this
through to a finish?" asked the minister.
"I offer you no alternative whatsoever. I command you to remain away
from my daughter."
"And I refuse to obey any such order unless you give some just and
adequate reason."
"I shall give you reason enough. Why did you stop with that little bit
of family history where you did?"
"I had nothing to add of any importance."
"You do not think it of importance to tell us what that confining work
was your father did in Australia?"
"I haven't the slightest idea. If Mother ever told me I was so very
young that I have forgotten."
"Perhaps your mother wished to spare you. If so, I do not intend to tell
you at this late hour in your life. But what he did is sufficient reason
for my forbidding you to carry your attentions any further."
"Father, this is getting really ridiculous," declared his daughter. "We
love each other, and that fact is greater than all else. Not one word
which you may say against Mack's people will make the slightest
difference with me."
"My dear child, if I dared tell you one-tenth of the truth,--but I dare
not."
"You shall not talk like this any longer. It's silly."
"Since when has my child taken to giving her father orders? You are
forcing me to speak. I'd rather cut off my right arm than do it, but I
must save my little girl from----"
"I shall not listen to another word!" broke in the girl.
"Be still! I shall speak, and you shall listen."
"Father! You dare not. I love him, and----"
"You'll blush at the thought of having used that word in connection with
that man before I have finished."
"It doesn't matter what you say, you can never change----"
"Beth, I must ask you to stop interrupting me. This man's father is an
out----"
"You'd better not say that, Father!" cried Elizabeth. "You'll wish you
hadn't when it is too late."
The Elder's face grew livid. His hands trembled violently as he steadied
himself to deliver his final blow. Elizabeth drew close to Mr. McGowan
as though to shield him, and shot a defiant glance at her father.
"I shall tell the truth, and you shall hear it. That man's father is an
outlaw. He is a fugitive from justice. All this prattle about him being
dead is a hoax."
The Elder now stood back to watch the result of his bomb. But what he
saw was far more mystifying than satisfying. It was Mr. McGowan who drew
back as the girl threw her arms about his neck. Elizabeth entreated him
not to believe one word which her father had just uttered. Mr. Fox stood
dumbfounded. Mr. McGowan did nothing but stare blankly across the room.
"Come here at once!" ordered the Elder. "Beth, do you hear me? Come away
from that man. Don't you see he recognizes the truth? Are you entirely
mad?"
For answer Elizabeth slipped her hands further over her lover's
shoulders and locked her fingers behind. Mr. McGowan did not seem to
realize the utter surrender with which she did this. He saw only the
figure across the room and heard a faint whisper from out the past. It
came from out his childhood, shortly after his father's death. It had
made no definite impression on his young mind, but like a haunting
shadow had stuck to him all these years. In a husky voice he demanded
that the Elder explain.
"There is nothing more to explain, sir. You know to what I refer as well
as I. If you are any kind of a man you will stop right where you are,
and release my daughter from her foolish promise. Beth, if you love
this man as you say you do you will come from him at once, for I'll ruin
him if you persist in your sentimental infatuation. If you show a
willingness to comply with my wishes, I shall let the matter drop,
providing he leaves our town."
Mr. McGowan tried to push the girl from him, but she only tightened her
grip.
"You dare not carry out your threat!" she shot at her father. Then
without warning she released the minister, and turned about. The fire of
indignation and anger leaped from those eyes that had only given her
father love and kindness.
"I shall not threaten longer, I shall act. I shall apply for deportation
papers for this man as an undesirable citizen."
"He is not that, Father!" cried the girl, making her last appeal.
"I shall have him deported if----"
She gave a dry hysterical laugh. "Try it, if you dare! I know his story.
I know yours, too. Don't you touch me!" she cried, as her father started
toward her. She fled again to the minister. "Don't let him touch me,
Mack!"
Mr. Fox stopped abruptly. He dropped the papers which he had taken from
his pocket. "Beth,--my dear,--have you lost all your senses? What were
you saying?" he barely gasped.
The outer door opened, and Captain Pott entered his house.