CHAPTER XVII

HOW THE NIGHT ENDED

One year ago my path was green,

My footstep light, my brow serene;

Alas! and could it have been so

One year ago?

There is a love that is to last

When the hot days of youth are past:

Such love did a sweet maid bestow

One year ago.

I took a leaflet from her braid

And gave it to another maid.

Love, broken should have been thy how,

One year ago.

--_Landor_.

As my horse whinnied and I turned into the wood a man walked boldly

toward me.

"My dear Donovan, I have been consoling your horse during your absence.

It's a sad habit we have fallen into of wandering about at night. I

liked your dinner, but you were rather too anxious to get rid of me. I

came by boat myself!"

Gillespie knocked the ashes from his pipe and thrust it into his

pocket. I was in no frame of mind for talk with him, a fact which he

seemed to surmise.

"It's late, for a fact," he continued; "and we both ought to be in bed;

but our various affairs require diligence."

"What are you doing over here?" I demanded. I was too weary and too

perplexed for his nonsense, and in no mood for confidences. I needed

time for reflection and I had no intention of seeking or of imparting

information at this juncture.

"Well, to tell the truth--"

"You'd better!"

"To tell the truth, my dear Donovan, since I left your hospitable board

I have been deeply perplexed over some important questions of human

conduct. Are you interested in human types? Have you ever noticed the

man who summons all porters and waiters by the pleasing name of George?

The name in itself is respectable enough; nor is its generic use

pernicious--a matter of taste only. But the same man may be identified

otherwise by his proneness to consume the cabinet pudding, the

chocolate ice-cream and the fruit in season from the chastening

American bill of fare, after partaking impartially of the preliminary

fish, flesh and fowl. He is confidential with hotel clerks,

affectionate with chambermaids and all telephone girls are Nellie to

him. Types, my dear Donovan--"

"That's enough! I want to know what you are doing!" and in my anger I

shook him by the shoulders.

"Well, if you must have it, after I started to the village I changed my

mind about going, and I was anxious to see whether Holbrook was really

here; so I got a launch and came over. I stopped at the island but saw

no one there, and I came up the creek until I grounded; then I struck

inland, looking for the road. It might save us both embarrassment,

Irishman, if we give notice of each other's intentions, particularly at

night. I hung about, thinking you might appear, and--"

"You are a poor liar, Buttons. You didn't come here alone!"--and I

drove my weary wits hard in an effort to account for his unexpected

appearance.

"All is lost; I am discovered," he mocked.

He had himself freed my horse; I now took the rein and refastened it to

the tree.

"Well, inexplicable Donovan!"

I laughed, pleased to find that my delay annoyed him. I was confident

that he was not abroad at this hour for nothing, and it again occurred

to me that we were on different sides of the matter. My weariness fell

from me like a cloak, as the events of the past hour flashed fresh in

my mind.

"Now," I said, dropping the rein and patting the horse's nose for a

moment, "you may go with me or you may sit here; but if you would avoid

trouble don't try to interfere with me."

I did not doubt that he had been sent to watch me; and his immediate

purpose seemed to be to detain me.

"I had hoped you would sit down and talk over the Monroe Doctrine, or

the partition of Africa, or something equally interesting," he

remarked. "You disappoint me, my dear benefactor."

"And you make me very tired at the end of a tiresome day, Gillespie.

Please continue to watch my horse; I'm off."

He kept at my elbow, as I expected he would, babbling away with his

usual volubility in an effort, now frank enough, to hold me back; but I

ignored his talk and plunged on through the wood toward the creek.

Henry Holbrook must, I argued, have had time enough to get out of the

creek and back to the island; but what mischief Gillespie was

furthering in his behalf I could not imagine.

There was a gradual rise toward the creek and we were obliged to cling

to the bushes in making our ascent. Suddenly, as I paused for breath,

Gillespie grasped my arm.

"For God's sake, stop! This is no affair of yours. On my honor

there's nothing that affects you here."

"I will see whether there is or not!" I exclaimed, throwing him off,

but he kept close beside me.

We gained the trail that ran along the creek, and I paused to listen.

"Where's your launch?"

"Find it," he replied succinctly.

I had my bearings pretty well, and set off toward the lake, Gillespie

trudging behind in the narrow path. When we had gone about twenty

yards a lantern glimmered below and I heard voices raised in excited

colloquy. Gillespie started forward at a run.

"Keep back! This is my affair!"

"I'm making it mine," I replied, and flung in ahead of him.

I ran forward rapidly, the voices growing louder, and soon heard men

stumbling and falling about in conflict. A woman's voice now rose in a

sharp cry:

"Let go of him! Let go of him!"

Gillespie flashed by me down the bank to the water's edge, where the

struggle ended abruptly. I was not far behind, and I saw Henry

Holbrook in the grasp of the Italian, who was explaining to the woman,

who held the lantern high above her head, that he was only protecting

himself. Gillespie had caught hold of the sailor, who continued to

protest his innocence of any wish to injure Holbrook; and for a moment

we peered through the dark, taking account of one another.

"So it's you, is it?" said Henry Holbrook as the Italian freed him and

his eyes fell on me. "I should like to know what you mean by meddling

in my affairs. By God, I've enough to do with my own flesh and blood

without dealing with outsiders."

Helen Holbrook turned swiftly and held the lantern toward me, and when

she saw me shrugged her shoulders.

"You really give yourself a great deal of unnecessary concern, Mr.

Donovan."

"You are a damned impudent meddler!" blurted Henry Holbrook. "I have

had you watched. You--you--"

He darted toward me, but the Italian again caught and held him, and

another altercation began between them. Holbrook was wrought to a high

pitch of excitement and cursed everybody who had in any way interfered

with him.

"Come, Helen," said Gillespie, stepping to the girl's side; and at this

Henry Holbrook turned upon him viciously.

"You are another meddlesome outsider. Your father was a pig--a pig, do

you understand? If it hadn't been for him I shouldn't be here

to-night, camping out like an outlaw. And you've got to stop annoying

my daughter!"

Helen turned to the Italian and spoke to him rapidly in his own tongue.

"You must take him away. He is not himself. Tell him I have done the

best I could. Tell him--"

She lowered her voice so that I heard no more. Holbrook was still

heaping abuse upon Gillespie, who stood submissively by; but Helen ran

up the bank, the lantern light flashing eerily about her. She paused

at the top, waiting for Gillespie, who, it was patent, had brought her

to this rendezvous and who kept protectingly at her heels.

The Italian drew Holbrook toward the boat that lay at the edge of the

lake. He seemed to forget me in his anger against Gillespie, and he

kept turning toward the path down which the girl's lantern faintly

twinkled. Gillespie kept on after the girl, the lantern flashing more

rarely through the turn in the path, until I caught the threshing of

his launch as it swung out into the lake.

I drew back, seeing nothing to gain by appealing to Holbrook in his

present overwrought state. The Italian had his hands full, and was

glad, I judged, to let me alone. A moment later he had pushed off his

boat, and I heard the sound of oars receding toward the island.

I found my horse, led him deeper into the wood and threw off the

saddle. Then I walked down the road until I found a barn, and crawled

into the loft and slept.

Rosalind at Red Gate · 第 17 / 25 章