A few days after she had written to Judge Ellsworth Alaire followed her
letter in person, for, having at last decided to divorce Ed, she acted
with characteristic decision. Since Ellsworth had more than once
advised this very course, she went to Brownsville anticipating his
willing support. She was greatly amazed, therefore, to find that he had
completely changed his views and to hear him argue strongly against her
determination. Hurt and puzzled at first by this strange lack of
sympathy, Alaire soon began to grow angry, and when the judge persisted
in his arguments she quarreled with him for the first time in their
acquaintance. But it was not until she had threatened to secure another
attorney that he reluctantly gave in, even then making it plain that in
meeting her wishes he was acting against his best judgment.
Now Alaire had desired Ellsworth's advice, also, as to her own
immediate plans, since it was of course impossible for her longer to
share Ed's roof. She had written Dave Law, telling him that she
intended to go to La Feria, there to remain pending the hearing of her
suit; but later she had come to doubt the wisdom of such a course,
inasmuch as the war talk grew louder with every day. However, her
attorney's inexplicable change of front and his stubborn opposition to
her wishes prevented her from confiding in him any more than was
necessary, and she returned to Las Palmas determined to use her own
best judgment. To be sure, she would have preferred some place of
refuge other than La Feria, but she reasoned that there she would at
least be undisturbed, and that Ed, even if he wished to effect a
reconciliation, would not dare to follow her, since he was persona non
grata in Federal Mexico. Nor were her doubts of Ellsworth's loyalty
entirely allayed. All in all, therefore, it seemed to her that the
Mexican ranch offered her the safest asylum.
She had counted upon seeing Dave during her stay in Brownsville, and
her failure to do so was a grave disappointment. The news of his
resignation from the Force had at first perplexed her; then she had
thrilled at the thought that his action must have something to do with
her; that doubtless he, too, was busied in making plans for their new
life. She told herself that it was brave of him to obey her injunctions
so literally and to leave her unembarrassed by his presence at this
particular time. It inspired her to be equally brave and to wait
patiently for the day when she could welcome him with clean hands and a
soul unashamed.
In the midst of Alaire's uncertainty of mind it gratified her to
realize that Dave alone would know of her whereabouts. She wondered if
he would come to see her. He was a reckless, headstrong lover, and his
desires were all too likely to overcome his deliberate resolves. She
rather hoped that in spite of his promise he would venture to cross the
border so that she could see and be near him, if only for a day or for
an hour. The possibility frightened and yet pleased her. The
conventional woman within her frowned, but her outlaw heart beat fast
at the thought.
Alaire did not explain her plans even to Dolores, but when her
preparations were complete she took the Mexican woman with her, and
during Ed's absence slipped away from the ranch. Boarding the train at
Jonesville, she was in Pueblo that night.
If Alaire's clash with Ellsworth had been trying to her, it had been no
less painful to the lawyer himself. Feeling himself bound by his
promise to Dave, he had not dared to tell her the truth; consequently
he had been hard put to it to dissuade her from taking immediate
action. When she would not listen, he found himself in the most
unpleasant position of his life; for although he could not but
sympathize with her desire to be free from Ed Austin, it distressed him
beyond measure to see her riding blindly to a fall. More than once
after their strained parting he was tempted to go to Las Palmas and set
himself right in her eyes; but he managed to hold to his determination
and to school himself to await Dave's return.
Before long, however, Ellsworth found other worries engaging him, for
it seemed at last that war with Mexico was imminent. After months of
uncertainty the question had come to issue, and that lowering cloud
which had hung above the horizon took ominous shape and size. Ellsworth
awoke one morning to learn that an ultimatum had gone forth to
President Potosi; that the Atlantic fleet had been ordered south; and
that marines were being rushed aboard transports pending a general army
mobilization. It looked as if the United States had finally risen in
wrath, and as if nothing less than a miracle could now avert the
long-expected conflict.
Naturally Brownsville, like other border towns, was plunged into a
panic, and Ellsworth, as a leading citizen of his community, had his
hands full.
In the midst of this excitement, and while suspense was at its highest,
Dave Law returned. Ellsworth found him in his office one morning and
fell upon the young man eagerly. Two weeks had worked a shocking change
in Dave; he was gaunt, ill; his eyes were bright and tired and
feverish. They had a new expression, too, which the judge at first
could not fathom, but which he took to be fear. Dave's brown cheeks had
bleached; his hands hung loose and unmanageable at his sides.
"I've had a long trip," he said, somberly, "months--years long, it
seems to me."
"Well, thank God you're back. Tell me, what did you find out?"
Law closed his eyes wearily. He shook his head. "Nothing except
verification. I'm sorry I went. The Law blood is tainted, all right--it
reeks. The whole damned outfit were crazy. On my mother's side, though,
I'm healthy enough--and there appears to be some mystery or something
queer about me as a baby. That's all I've discovered so far. But I've a
relative in San Antone, a cousin of my mother's, who runs a
curio-store. He deals in Mexican jewelry and antiques, and all
that--strange old fellow. He says he has a trunkful of stuff that
belonged to his family, and he has promised to go through it for me."
"Then you still hope to prove--"
"I haven't any hope. I've given up."
"Why?" Ellsworth asked, sharply.
"Because I know the truth. Because I'm--going crazy. Fact! I can see it
myself now."
"Why, boy, that's imagination, nothing else."
"Perhaps," Dave agreed, listlessly. "I'm reading everything on the
subject of insanity that I can get hold of."