At the garage Sally produced a satchel which Archie tossed into the car,
and they were quickly humming through the lane and into the highway.
"Abijah expected me to walk down to meet him if I could get away
tonight, so he'll be surprised when I come in a machine," she said as
they emerged into the open road. "He was to wait for me every night
until I saw a good chance to skip. His car is only a little dinky thing
and he'll be tickled to death to see this fine machine."
A quick spurt of ten minutes and Sally bade him drive slowly.
"Run by the school house when we come to it and then stop. Abijah will
be there."
When the car stopped Sally jumped out and was immediately joined by a
young man to whom she spoke rapidly out of Archie's hearing. Her
explanations finished she brought him to the car and presented him as
Mr. Strong.
"Mr. Comly is going to the minister's with us and then give us a lift
toward Boston. That's ever so much better than anything we'd thought of,
'Bijah!"
"Whatever you say, little girl! I'll shut off the lights on my machine
and get my traps."
Archie, testing his searchlight, let its beam fall upon Abijah as though
by accident and found Sally's lover a very well-dressed, decent-looking
fellow. All his life he would be proud of his daring in saving Sally
Walker from marriage with the odious widower and mating her with the
youth of her choice. The bride and groom elect were established in the
back seat and he experienced a sharp jealous twinge, when, turning to
ask her a question about the road, he caught them in a rapturous kiss.
This was what it meant to be young and free, and youth and freedom were
things he had never until now appraised at their true worth. Having
captured and mounted destiny he would ride with a tight rein and
relentless spur. The immediate affair was much to his taste, and he
meditated making it his business in future to befriend lovers in
difficulties.
"How long do we stop at Brattleboro?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Only long enough to get the knot tied," Abijah answered. "I was in town
this afternoon and everything's set."
"I hope," said Sally, "you'll give the bride away; it would be just fine
of you, Mr. Comly."
"I was hoping you'd ask me," he flung back. "I want to be as prominent
in the wedding party as possible."
The last time he had figured in a wedding he had been best man for a
college friend who had been married at high noon in Grace Church, before
an audience notably distinguished in New York society. Sally's nuptials
were blest in a little parsonage, with the minister's wife and daughter
and Archie as the sole witnesses. The minister had only lately come to
town and therefore confined his inquiries to the strict requirements of
ecclesiastical and Vermont law. When he lifted his head to ask who
giveth this woman Archie bestowed Sally upon Abijah with just the touch
of grace and dignity he had long noted as the accepted manner of giving
a woman in marriage in the most exacting circles.
The groom sheepishly dug two one-dollar bills out of his trousers pocket
and the sum striking Archie as a pitifully inadequate fee he slipped a
ten-dollar bill into the minister's hand as the bride and groom were
hurrying from the house.
"Well, Sally," Archie remarked, as he joined them, "for better or worse
you are married. I certainly wish you all good luck."
"We'll be back in a week and everything will be smooth as butter," Sally
declared lightly.
The wedding journey from Brattleboro to Bennington was marred by tire
trouble and freakishness on the part of the engine, and as neither of
his passengers knew the roads Archie's good nature was severely tested
by the exigencies of the night drive.
Abijah helped with the tires but only stared helplessly while Archie
poked at the engine. Sally was far more resourceful and lent her
assistance with her usual good cheer, a cheer which Archie felt he would
miss when he bade them good-by at Bennington. As a mark of special favor
she moved to the front seat to keep him company and facilitate the study
of sign posts.
"We're only making half time," said Archie after a long interruption.
"We'll not get into Bennington before daylight."
"I've put you to an awful lot of trouble," Sally remarked with real
contrition. "And you've left your friend the Governor far behind. I
suppose they started out to look for us in pop's machine when we didn't
show up and they may be close behind us now. The only thing I'm sorry
about is missing hearing pop swear when he found I had skipped. It
would be funny if they thought I'd run off with you, wouldn't it! I'd
just love that!"
"I don't think it's so funny you didn't," Archie answered. "I think it
was my mistake!"
The groom had drawn up his knees and was attempting to sleep on the back
seat. It was quite improper to flirt with the newest of brides but Sally
gave tolerant ear and even encouraged Archie's protestations of
admiration while Abijah bumped about in the tonneau and now and then
rolled off the seat when the enraptured driver negotiated a sharp turn.
But for Sally's disposition to make the most of her last hours with him
the drive would have bored Archie exceedingly. By two o'clock he was
hungry and at three he was bringing all his powers of eloquence to bear
upon the obtuse owner of a village garage who was stubbornly hostile to
the idea of leaving his bed to provide a lunatic with gasoline. Archie's
vociferous oratory had the pleasing effect of filling all the windows in
the neighborhood with unsympathetic hearers and the village policeman
appeared and made careful note of car and contents.
"I guess you're used to getting what you go after in this world," said
Sally as they resumed their journey. "You certainly told that man where
to get off."
"Just a little firmness will go a long way with such a chap," Archie
answered, marveling at his newly discovered command of the unattainable.
A week earlier he would have been incapable of threatening a whole
village with frightful reprisals unless it responded to his demands.
"I didn't like that cop poking round the car," Abijah complained. "He
took your number all right."
"Don't you worry about policemen," Archie answered scornfully. "If they
fool with me I'll knock their blocks off!"
"I'll say you would!" cried Sally in a tone of conviction that made him
regret that no policeman's head was in reach that he might demonstrate
his valor on the spot.
Sally and Abijah were eager to leave Bennington as soon as possible.
"Don't think we're not appreciating what you've done for us," said
Abijah, "but Sally and I had better shake you and that machine right
here. Sally's folks'll be sure to be after us and they'll just about
argue we came this way."
Archie laid to his soul the flattering unction that Abijah was jealous.
Justification of this suspicion was supported by the bridegroom's sudden
anxiety to depart out of Vermont with the utmost expedition. Archie had
every intention of ordering as gorgeous a breakfast as Bennington's best
hotel could provide, but Abijah promptly vetoed this suggestion and they
ate at a lunch counter, which Archie found a most disagreeable
proceeding. Abijah left Sally and Archie eating scrambled eggs while he
set forth to acquire information about trains. He returned while they
were still at the counter to report that a train was almost immediately
available. His haste annoyed Archie, who hated being hurried at his
meals. At the station Abijah hung about the baggage-room, where he had
no business whatever, as though trying to create the impression that he
was traveling alone. When the train came along he climbed into the
smoker with his own bag, leaving Archie to assist Sally into the chair
car.
"Abijah's just a little afraid pop might have telephoned, you know, or
be coming after us. He'll move in here when the train starts."
"I don't like to leave you like this," said Archie mournfully.
"Oh, it will be all right," Sally answered bravely. "Abijah's nervous;
that's all. That was certainly some ride we had last night. I hope
you'll go up to the hotel now and get a good sleep."
"Oh, I'll look out for that," Archie replied.
His arrears of sleep did not trouble him; but the thought of losing
Sally broke his heart. The hard night ride had left no traces on her
face. Her cheeks were aglow and her eyes were bright. When he said
again, a little tremulously, that he hated to leave her he had never
made a more honest statement in his life.
"I suppose we'll hardly meet again," he said with a dejection which he
hoped would elicit a promise of further meetings.
"I'm afraid it will be a long, long time before I see you," she said
with a lingering tenderness and wistfulness.
"I hope you're going to be very happy, Sally. And I shall think of you
always as you were last night. I shall never forget our talk by the
brook."
"Neither shall I," she murmured. Her lashes were wonderful; not till
that moment had he done justice to her lashes.
"I want to give you a little present--something you can hide away to
make sure you are not embarrassed in any way until you get settled. I
wish it were gold, but you won't mind. You understand, don't you,
Sally?"
He always carried a five-hundred-dollar bill against emergencies and
this he had clung to through all his adventures. He now produced it from
his inner waistcoat pocket and slipped it into her hand.
Her brow clouded for an instant; then she smiled radiantly.
"I oughtn't to take it; but I know you mean it all right. It's dear of
you," and her tone and the immeasurable kindness of her eyes were easily
worth five hundred dollars.
Belated passengers were now brushing past them in the aisle. The
conductor, walking briskly along the platform, shouted all aboard with
heartless finality. It seemed like the voice of doom to Archie.
"Good-by, Sally!"
He put out his hand, but with a quickness that took his breath away she
flung her arms round his neck and kissed him. The touch of her hand by
the brook under the stars was as nothing to this. Two young girls
seeking seats giggled at the frankness and heartiness of the salutation.
In old times Archie would have perished of humiliation; but an
overwhelming joy filled his soul. The giggles of bread-and-butter misses
who knew nothing of life and love were beneath his notice. Sally's arms
were still about his neck, her lips were parted expectantly.
"You must go, honey," she whispered and his kiss fell like a punctuation
upon her last delectable word.
If she hadn't given him a gentle push toward the door he might never
have reached the vestibule. Another person who shared his haste to
leave the train materially assisted him by gentle pressure to the
platform. His brain whirled from the intoxication of Sally's
kiss--indeed the two kisses, or specifically the kiss received and the
kiss returned. But his exaltation was of brief duration, for there
beside him stood Isabel like an accusing angel, severe and implacable.
It was she whose gentle impulsion had facilitated his exit from the
parlor car, and beyond question she had witnessed the kissing, a
disagreeable circumstance that fell smotheringly upon his ecstatic mood.
"You were on that train!" he exclaimed;--the most fatuous of questions
and the poorest possible opening for a conversation.
She ignored his inquiry. It was now her turn to give way under the
stress of emotion and the indignant tears shone in her eyes.
"I thought I had made it sufficiently plain at Portsmouth that I resent
your following me! The meeting there might have been by accident, but
seeing you here I am convinced--I am convinced that you are spying upon
me!"
"But, Miss Perry--"
"I should think," she interrupted, "that knowing or suspecting what I am
trying to do you would show me some consideration!"
"But I can explain; really I can explain if you will give me a moment!
It probably hasn't occurred to you that I'm a good deal mystified by
these little journeys you are making over New England! My own dallying
in these parts is due to circumstances I can easily explain. In fact,
but for you I should not be here at all!"
This, uttered with a conciliatory smile and quite calmly, not only
failed to mollify her anger but produced quite the opposite effect. Her
agitation increased, and for the second time they presented the picture
of a man and woman involved in a quarrel in a public place.
"I understand perfectly that but for me you shouldn't be loitering here!
And you practically acknowledged at Portsmouth that you were interesting
yourself in the affairs of the Congdons!"
"We are playing at cross purposes quite unnecessarily," protested
Archie. "Why not confess just what your interest is in that family? I
told you quite plainly at Portsmouth that I had reason to believe I had
shot Putney Congdon at Bailey Harbor! But for the courage you put in my
heart I should never have done that!"
"If you did that you have ruined everything! A dastardly act for which I
hope you will pay the full penalty of the law!"
This was wholly unreasonable and quite beside himself he shook his
finger in her face.
"You seem to forget that you advised me to flout the law; to do just the
things I have been doing, roving the world, shooting and plundering!
There's a policeman at the other end of the platform; call him and turn
me over to the authorities!"
She glanced hurriedly in the direction of a policeman who had niched a
banana from a bunch providentially exposed to his rapacity on a truck,
and was hastily consuming it.
"Maybe he is watching me!" she gasped.
For a young woman who had prescribed outlawry as a cure for obstreperous
nerves her alarm was astonishing.
"May I ask, Miss Perry, what reason you have for fearing the
authorities?"
"That of course is what you would like to know!" she replied tearfully.
"But you know too much! If you have told me the truth your
meddlesomeness will have far-reaching consequences too dreadful to think
about! Your assumed name tells its own story and convinces me that you
have not told the truth. I went aboard that train to look for some one I
hoped I might meet, and you know perfectly well why I am here."
He could only stammer a futile expostulation at the gross injustice of
this.
"Everything has gone wrong," she continued, "and you may have all the
satisfaction you can get out of your interference, your intrusion upon
affairs of the greatest delicacy, in which my assistance and my honor
are pledged. That car standing yonder belongs to me and before I leave I
want you to walk away from here as rapidly as possible and not turn your
head!"
He did not even confirm her statement as to the propinquity of the car
but crossed the platform with the crestfallen air of a child in
disgrace. She had loftily ignored the kissing of Mrs. Abijah Strong. The
osculatory adventure with Sally shrank at once in importance from the
fact that Isabel had not only ignored it but had made it wholly
unnecessary for him to explain that transaction.
He knew nothing save that he was enormously tired and he went to the
hotel and crawled wearily into bed.