"Run on ahead, girlies," said Aileen to the twins who were with her for
their annual checkerberry picnic, "I'll be down in a few minutes."
They were on the edge of the quarry woods which sheltered the Colonel's
outlying sheep pastures and protected from the north wind the two
sheepfolds that were used for the autumn and early spring. Dulcie and
Doosie, obedient to Aileen's request, raced hand in hand across the
short-turfed pastures, balancing their baskets of red berries.
The late afternoon sunshine of the last of October shone clear and warm
upon the fading close-cropped herbage that covered the long slopes. The
sheep were gathering by flocks at the folds. The collie, busy and
important, was at work with 'Lias rounding up the stragglers. Aileen's
eyes were blinded to the transient quiet beauty of this scene, for she
was alive to but one point in the landscape--the red brick house with
granite trimmings far away across the Rothel, and the man leaving the
carriage which had just stopped at the front porch. She could not
distinguish who it was, and this fact fostered conjecture--Could it be
Champney Googe who had come home to help settle the trouble in the
sheds?
How she hated him!--yet her heart gave a sudden sick throb of
expectation. How she hated herself for her weakness!
"You look tired to death, Aileen," was Mrs. Caukins' greeting a few
minutes afterwards, "come in and rest yourself before supper. Luigi was
here just now and I've sent Dulcie over with him to Aurora's to get the
Colonel; I saw him go in there fifteen minutes ago, and he's no notion
of time, not even meal-time, when he's talking business with her. I know
it's business, because Mr. Emlie drove up with him; he's waiting for him
to come out. Romanzo has just telephoned that he can't get home for
supper, but he'll be up in time to see you home."
Mrs. Caukins was diplomatic; she looked upon herself as a committee of
one on ways and means to further her son's interest so far as Aileen
Armagh was concerned; but that young lady was always ready with a check
to her mate.
"Thank you, Mrs. Caukins, but I'll not trouble him; Tave is coming up to
drive me home about eight; he knows checkerberry picking isn't easy
work."
Mrs. Caukins was looking out of the window and did not reply.
"I declare," she exclaimed, "if there isn't Octavius this very minute
driving up in a rush to Aurora's too--and Father Honore's with
him!--Why, what--"
Without waiting to finish her thought, she hurried to the door to call
out to Dulcie, who was coming back over the bridge towards the house,
running as fast as she could:
"What's the matter, Dulcie?"
"Oh, mother--mother--" the child panted, running up the road, "father
wants you to come over to Mrs. Googe's right off, as quick as you
can--he says not to stop for anything--"
The words were scarcely out of her mouth before Mrs. Caukins, without
heeding Aileen, was hurrying down the road. The little girl, wholly out
of breath, threw herself down exhausted on the grass before the door.
Aileen and Doosie ran out to her.
"What is it, Dulcie--can't you tell me?" said Aileen.
Between quickened breaths the child told what she knew.
"Luigi stopped to speak to Mr. Emlie--and Mr. Emlie said something
dreadful for Flamsted--had happened--and Luigi looked all of a sudden so
queer and pale,"--she sat up, and in the excitement and importance of
imparting such news forgot her over-exertion,--"and Mr. Emlie said
father was telling Mrs. Googe--and he was afraid it would kill her--and
then father came to the door looking just like Luigi, all queer and
pale, and Mr. Emlie says, 'How is she?' and father shook his head and
said, 'It's her death blow,' then I squeezed Luigi's hand to make him
look at me, and I asked him what it was Mrs. Googe's was sick of, for I
must go and tell mother--and he looked at Mr. Emlie and he nodded and
said, 'It's town talk already--it's in the papers.' And then Luigi told
me that Mr. Champney Googe had been stealing, Aileen!--and if he got
caught he'd have to go to prison--then father sent me over home for
mother and told me to run, and I've run so--Oh, Aileen!"
It was a frightened cry, and her twin echoed it. While Aileen Armagh was
listening with shortened breaths to the little girl, she felt as if she
were experiencing the concentrated emotions of a lifetime; as a result,
the revulsion of feeling was so powerful that it affected her
physically; her young healthy nerves, capable at other times of almost
any tension, suddenly played her false. The effect upon her of what she
heard was a severe nervous shock. She had never fainted in her life, nor
had she known the meaning of an hysterical mood; she neither fainted nor
screamed now, but began to struggle horribly for breath, for the shocked
heart began beating as it would, sending the blood in irregular spurts
through the already over-charged arteries. From time to time she groaned
heavily as her struggle continued.
The two children were terrified. Doosie raced distractedly across the
pastures to get 'Lias, and Dulcie ran into the house for water. Her
little hand was trembling as she held the glass to Aileen's white
quivering lips that refused it.
By the time, however, that 'Lias got to the house, the crisis was past;
she could smile at the frightened children, and assure 'Lias that she
had had simply a short and acute attack of indigestion from eating too
many checkerberries over in the woods.
"It serves me right," she said smiling into the woe-begone little faces
so near to hers; "I've always heard they are the most indigestible
things going--now don't you eat any more, girlies, or you'll have a
spasm like mine. I'm all right, 'Lias; go back to your work, I'll just
help myself to a cup of hot water from the tea-kettle and then I'll go
home with Tave--I see him coming for me--I didn't expect him now."
"But, Aileen, won't you stay to supper?" said the twins at one and the
same time; "we always have you to celebrate our checkerberry picnic."
"Dear knows, I've celebrated the checkerberries enough already," she
said laughing,--but 'Lias noticed that her lips were still
colorless,--"and I think, dearies, that it's no time for us to be
celebrating any more to-day when poor Mrs. Googe is in such trouble."
"What's up?" said 'Lias.
The twins' eagerness to impart their knowledge of recent events to 'Lias
was such that the sorrow of parting was greatly mitigated; moreover,
Aileen left them with a promise to come up again soon.
"I'm ready, Tave," she said as he drew up at the door. 'Lias helped her
in.
"Come again soon, Aileen--you've promised," the twins shouted after her.
She turned and waved her hand to them. "I'll come," she called back in
answer.
They drove in silence over the Rothel, past the brick house where
Emlie's trap was still standing, but now hitched. Octavius Buzzby's face
was gray; his features were drawn.
"Did you hear, Aileen?" he said, after they had driven on a while and
begun to meet the quarrymen returning from Flamsted, many of whom were
talking excitedly and gesticulating freely.
"Yes--Dulcie told me something. I don't know how true it is," she
answered quietly.
"It's true," he said grimly, "and it'll kill his mother."
"I don't know about that;" she spoke almost indifferently; "you can
stand a good deal when it comes to the point."
Octavius turned almost fiercely upon her.
"What do you know about it?" he demanded. "You're neither wife nor
mother, but you might show a little more feeling, being a woman. Do you
realize what this thing means to us--to Flamsted--to the family?"
"Tave," she turned her gray eyes full upon him, the pupils were
unnaturally enlarged, "I don't suppose I do know what it means to all of
you--but it makes me sick to talk about it--please don't--I can't bear
it--take me home as quick as you can."
She grew whiter still.
"Ain't you well, Aileen?" he asked in real anxiety, repenting of his
hard word to her.
"Not very, Tave; the truth is I ate too many checkerberries and had an
attack of indigestion--I shall be all right soon--and they sent over for
Mrs. Caukins just at that time, and when Dulcie came back she told
me--it's awful--but it's different with you; he belongs to you all here
and you've always loved him."
"Loved him!"--Octavius Buzzby's voice shook with suppressed emotion--"I
should say loved him; he's been dear to me as my own--I thank God Louis
Champney isn't living to go through this disgrace!"
He drew up in the road to let a gang of workmen separate--he had been
driving the mare at full speed. Both he and Aileen caught fragments of
what they were saying.
"It's damned hard on his mother--"
"They say there's a woman in the case--"
"Generally is with them highflyers--"
"I'll bet he'll make for the old country, if he can get clear he'll--"
"Europe's full of 'em--reg'lar cesspool they say--"
"Any reward offered?"
"The Company'll have to fork over or there'll be the biggest strike in
Flamsted that the stone-cutting business has seen yet--"
"The papers don't say what the shortage is--"
"What's Van Ostend's daughter's name, anybody know?--they say he was
sweet on her--"
"She's a good haul," a man laughed hoarsely, insultingly, "but she
didn't bite, an' lucky for her she didn't."
"You're 'bout right--them high rollers don't want to raise nothing but
game cocks--no prison birds, eh?"
The men passed on, twenty or more. Octavius Buzzby, and the one who in
the last hour had left her girlhood behind her, drove homewards in
silence. Her eyes were lowered; her white cheeks burned again, but with
shame at what she was obliged to hear.