To return to Derrick Dene. When Isabel had left the van he lay, with a
frown on his face, thinking sadly and troubled by a somewhat
unreasonable remorse. He was not a vain man, but he knew that, all
unwittingly, he had gained the love of this dark-browed, passionate
girl. She was very beautiful; she had nursed him with the tenderness of
a sister, a mother, a wife. Why should he not accept the gift which the
gods were offering him? Why should he not make her his wife? Even as he
put the question, the answer rose to confront him. He was in love with
another woman, a girl he had seen once or twice only in his life--the
girl at Brown's Buildings.
It was absurd, of course. He might never meet her again; it was more
than probable that by this time some other man had discovered so great a
prize; she might be engaged, married. The chances were that, though he
had thought of her every day since he had left her, she had well-nigh
forgotten him, or, at the best, thought of him as a foolish young man
who had sacrificed himself for a mistaken sense of chivalry, the man
whom she, a slip of a girl, had saved from suicide. Why, he told
himself, any feeling she must have for him must be that of contempt. All
the same, he loved her, and therefore this other woman could be nothing
to him.
The doctor and Mr. Bloxford came to see him; Bloxford full of impish
delight and satisfaction at Derrick's recovery, and full also of threats
of what he, Bloxford, would do if ever he came across the cause of
Derrick's "accident."
An hour later Derrick had another visitor. It was Sidcup. Derrick liked
the man; for, notwithstanding his harmless vanity, he was a decent sort,
and the courage he displayed in his performance won Derrick's
admiration. Sidcup came in and stood beside the bunk, and looked down at
Derrick with a grim countenance, and he did not offer to shake hands.
"You're better, Green?" he said. "Do you think you're well enough to
have a little talk? Don't say so, if you're not; but I want to have a
word or two with you rather badly."
"I'm all right," said Derrick. "Fire away! It's awfully good of you to
come and see me."
"I dunno," said Sidcup, moodily. "I came on my own account--and
another's. Look here, Green; it's about Isabel. I want to have it out
with you."
Derrick had raised himself on his elbow, but at this he dropped back and
his eyes fell, for he knew what was coming.
"Of course you know how it is with her," said Sidcup. "You're not blind,
and you must have seen for some time past that she's--sweet on you. I
don't say it's your fault; in fact, I'll go so far as to say that you
haven't led her on, encouraged her, as another man might have done.
That's just the worst of it. Perhaps, if you had, she wouldn't have been
so taken with you. It's the way with some women to go after the man that
draws back or doesn't meet 'em half-way."
"Look here----" said Derrick. But Sidcup shook his head.
"Better let me finish," he said; "no doubt you'll have something to say
when I've done. Of course, you'll deny it, but what's the use? All the
company know it. And I--well, I've the best reason for knowing it. Oh,
yes, I've come to speak out. I'm sweet on her myself--no, that's not the
word, for I _love_ her. It's no new affair with me; it's been going on
ever since she joined us. She's the one woman in the world for me, and I
want her, want her badly. But it's love with me, the real thing, and I
tell you straight, Green, that, if you care for her, if you'll marry
her, I'll stand aside, and I'll do all I can for you and her. That's how
it is with me."
Derrick, with his brows drawn straight and his lips shut, held out his
hand, for his heart went out to this man who was in the same case as
himself. But Sidcup disregarded the proffered hand.
"Wait a bit!" he said. "I want to hear what you're going to say, what
you're going to do; for I tell you plainly that, if you don't mean the
straight thing by Isabel, you've got to reckon with me, and I shan't
miss it, as that fool of a Jackman did. Will you marry her?"
"No," said Derrick, in a low voice, but decidedly. "Mind, I don't admit
the truth of your--your statement; but, if I did, there are reasons----"
"There's another woman," said Sidcup, drawing a long breath.
Derrick's pale face flushed. "There are reasons why I can't marry any
woman, Sidcup," he said. "No, I can't tell you them, but you can take it
from me that they exist. No, I'm not married already," he added, with a
grim smile, as he saw the question in Sidcup's eyes. "The fact is, I'm
an outcast and a pariah. Sounds melodramatic, doesn't it? But it's the
truth. And you can tell Isabel so, if you like."
Sidcup laughed bitterly.
"Do you think that would make any difference to her?" he retorted. "You
don't know much about women----"
"I don't!" interjected Derrick.
"----If you think that would put her off. It would make her more gone on
you than ever. She's that sort. And if you don't, or can't, marry her,
what are you going to do?"
"The Lord knows," groaned Derrick, desperately.
"Look here, Green, you're a gentleman," said Sidcup.
"Am I? Thank you. But I'm not so sure. I don't know that I've any claim
to the title."
"You're a gentleman, right enough; we all know that," said Sidcup. "But
you haven't traded on it, I'll say that for you. And there's only one
thing for a man to do who is a gentleman----"
"And that is?" asked Derrick.
"To cut and run; to clear out," replied Sidcup. "Oh, don't make any
mistake! If you stay on with the company, things between you and Isabel
will grow from bad to worse."
"I tell you that it's your fancy, that you exaggerate----"
"She's one of the most beautiful women God ever made," said Sidcup,
ignoring Derrick's remonstrance, "and no man could resist for long such
a woman, especially when she's gone on him, as Isabel is on you. Yes,
there's only one thing for you to do, and that is to clear out as soon
as you're able. And if you're the straight man I think you, you'll do
it, for her sake--I won't say for mine."
Derrick rose painfully on his elbow.
"By Heaven, Sidcup," he said, in the stifled voice of a man who is
deeply moved, "you're a good chap; and, if I go, it will be for _your_
sake. I'd rather cut this hand off than come between a man and the girl
he loves."
"Yes, and there's another reason," said Sidcup, with a shake of the
head. "Isabel's not the only one; there's Alice."
Derrick's eyes shone angrily now.
"Oh, go to blazes!" he said. "You're out of your mind; you'll be telling
me that all the blessed women in the company----"
"Well, we'll let her go," said Sidcup, "though it's the truth. What are
you going to do?"
Derrick lay still for a moment or two; then he heaved a sigh. He had
found an occupation which, if it did not exactly suit him, provided him
with a living, and it was hard to be compelled to surrender it. It
seemed to him that he was doomed to be a wanderer, a fugitive; he had
flown from man's judgment; now he was told that he must fly from a
woman's love.
"I suppose I'll have to go," he said. "I can't stay and make trouble
between you and the woman who has been so good to me. God bless her!"
At this Sidcup took Derrick's hand and pressed it.
"I said you were a gentleman and would do the right thing," he said.
"God knows whether it will be any good to me, your going; but it will be
good for Isabel. Look here, you'll have to pad the hoof without any
'good-byes.' Yes, you will"--as Derrick stared at him. "Why, man, do you
suppose she'd let you go if she knew you meant it? You don't know
Isabel; you see, you don't love her as I do. She's the sort to go off
with you----"
"Oh, stow it! You make me tired," implored Derrick. "But if I must, I
must. Seems to me you're having it all your own way, Sidcup. I'm to go
off without saying 'good-bye' to all the people who have been so kind to
me. Oh, dash it!"
"The only way," said Sidcup, firmly. "And look here," he added, after a
pause. "I know I'm doing you out of a good berth, and one that would
have been better still if you could have stayed, for the old man's clean
gone on you, and in time you'd have been the boss in reality, as well as
in name, which you are now. And I don't forget that you're stranded in
this outlandish place. Oh, I know how much I'm asking of you, and--and
I'm not ungrateful."
"For goodness' sake, say no more about it," said Derrick.
"Only this," said Sidcup, colouring and hesitating nervously. "You may
not be very oofish; you'll want some coin. I've saved a few quid----"
"That puts a finish to it," broke in Derrick, flushing angrily, and yet
with something very different from anger in his heart. "Get out, or--or
I'll throw you out!"
"You couldn't throw out a mouse," retorted Sidcup, with a mirthless
smile. "All right. I was afraid you wouldn't accept my offer; but there
it is. You've played the part of a gentleman, Green----"
"Oh, go and be hanged!"
"Is there anything I can do for you?" inquired Sidcup, with a friendly
and admiring look in his eyes, which, though they were rather too fond
of viewing themselves in the looking-glass, were honest and true.
"Yes, you can go and get the property pistol and shoot me," said
Derrick. "But leave me alone now, there's a good fellow. I've given you
my word."
"And you'll stick to it, I know," said Sidcup, shaking hands with him.
Isabel sat beside her patient that night, as she had sat for the four
preceding ones; but few words passed between them, for Derrick seemed to
be sleepy--at any rate, he lay with his eyes closed. The next day it was
Isabel who was silent; for, woman-like, she felt that a barrier had
risen between them, and she was wondering what it could be. Derrick was
a strong man, and he recovered quickly. In a day or two he was able to
get about, and on the morning of the fifth he sought Mr. Bloxford and,
as gently as he could, informed him that he, Derrick, would have to
leave his employment.
Mr. Bloxford stared, grew red and exceeding wrath.
"What the deuce does this mean?" he demanded, throwing open his fur coat
and sticking out his chest. "Look here, if you're not satisfied----"
Derrick made haste to assert not only his entire satisfaction with, but
his gratitude for, Mr. Bloxford's confidence and generosity.
"Then what is it?" shrilled Mr. Bloxford. "Has anybody been roughing
you? If so, out he goes. Oh, I can't part with you, and that's the long
and short of it. Here, what is it?"
"That's just what I can't tell you," said Derrick, colouring under the
sharp, gimlet-like eyes.
Mr. Bloxford scratched his hairless head and looked despairingly at
Derrick. From the first he had expected that there were grave reasons
for the young man's presence in the company; a man of Derrick's breeding
does not join a travelling circus for the mere fun of it.
"Some trouble, I suppose, eh? Got to clear out? I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Look here, can't something be done--can't it be squared? if it's
money--well, say the amount"--he threw out his chest again--"and it
shall be forthcoming. I'll own up that I've taken a fancy to you, that
I'd plank down a biggish sum to keep you with me. No?"--for Derrick had
shaken his head.
"Thank you with all my heart," said Derrick. "I must clear out without
any fuss. I've got a bundle packed, and I'm going straight off directly
I leave you."
Mr. Bloxford's countenance fell, and he whistled.
"Bad as that, is it? Whatever have you done? Well, well, I won't ask any
questions. I've met some of your sort before; there's always something
shady--though it goes against the grain with me to think that you've
done anything low down and mean. But I see there's no use talking."
He thrust his hand in his breast-pocket, in which, with his love of
ostentation, he always carried a bundle of notes and some loose gold,
and, as he held out his hand to Derrick, there was something crisp in
it.
Derrick shook the hand and pressed back the note; he could not speak for
a minute; then he said, rather huskily:
"It's all right, Mr. Bloxford. You paid me on Friday night, and I've
plenty to go on with."
With that he went out, heavy-hearted, and Mr. Bloxford stood at the
door, his extraordinary face drawn into a thousand wrinkles and his lips
shaping strange oaths.