CONVICTED.
When Strange finished there was a significant silence. They were
waiting for Ambrose to speak. Stiffening himself he told his story as
manfully as he could. Conscious of its weakness he wore a hang-dog air
which contrasted unfavorably with Strange's seeming candor.
No comment was made upon it. Ambrose could feel their unexpressed
sneers like goads in the raw flesh. Only Colina gave no sign.
Macfarlane turned to her for instructions.
She contrived to maintain her proud and stony air up to the moment she
was obliged to speak. But her self-command went out with her
shuddering voice. "I--I don't know what to say," she whispered
tremblingly.
"Surely there can be no question here!" cried Strange with a voice full
of reproachful indignation. "I have served Mr. Gaviller faithfully for
nearly thirty years. This man's whole aim has been to ruin him!"
"This is the tone I should be taking instead of letting him run me
out," Ambrose thought dispassionately, as if it were somebody else.
But he remained dumb.
"What earthly reason could I have for trying to injure my benefactor?"
cried Strange. His voice broke artistically on the final word. "You
all know what I think of him. Your suspicions hurt me!"
Macfarlane crossed over and clapped him on the shoulder. Colina kept
her eyes down. She was very pale; her lips were compressed and her
hands clenched at her sides.
Ambrose bestirred himself to his own defense. "Let me ask a question,"
he said quietly to Strange. "You say when you opened the door you saw
me with my hands on Mr. Gaviller. How could you see me?"
"With my electric flash-light," Strange instantly answered.
"That's a lie," said Ambrose. "The flash-light was mine. I can prove
it by a dozen witnesses."
"Produce it," said Strange sneering.
"You knocked it out of my hand," said Ambrose. "It will be found
somewhere on the floor up-stairs."
Strange drew his hand out of his pocket. "On the contrary, it is
here," he said. "And it has never been out of my possession. As to
your identifying it, there are dozens like it in the country. It is
the style all the stores carry."
Ambrose shrugged. "I've nothing more to say," he said. "The man is a
liar. The truth is bound to come out in the end."
The white men paid little attention to this, but it stung Strange to
reply. "If Mr. Gaviller were able to speak he'd soon decide between
us!"
At that moment, as if Strange's speech had evoked, him, they heard
Giddings in the hall.
"Has he spoken?" they asked breathlessly.
Colina kept her eyes hidden.
Giddings nodded. "He sent me down-stairs to order Macfarlane to arrest
Doane."
Colina fell back against the door-frame with a hand to her breast.
"Did he--did he _see_ him?" she whispered.
"No," said Giddings reluctantly. "He did not see his assailant. But
said to accuse Strange of the deed was the act of a desperate criminal."
"You're under arrest!" Macfarlane said bruskly to Ambrose. Turning to
Colina, he added deprecatingly: "You had better leave the room, Miss
Gaviller."
She shook her head. Clearly speech was beyond her. Not once during
the scene had Ambrose been able to see her eyes, Macfarlane waited a
moment for her to go, then shrugged deprecatingly.
"Will you submit to handcuffs or must I force you?" he demanded of
Ambrose.
Ambrose did not hear him. His eyes were fastened on Colina. So long
as he was tortured by a doubt of her he was oblivious to everything
else.
The heart knows no logic. It deals directly with the heart. Love
looks for loyalty as its due. Ambrose was amazed and incredulous and
sickened by his love's apparent faint-heartedness.
"Colina!" he cried indignantly, "have you nothing to say? Do you
believe this lie?"
Her agonized eyes flew to his--full of passionate gratitude to hear him
defend himself. His scorn both abased and overjoyed her. Her heart
knew.
None of the others recognized what was passing in those glances.
Macfarlane took a step forward. "Here! Leave Miss Gaviller out of
this!" he said harshly.
Ambrose did not look at him, but his hand clenched ready to strike.
His eyes were fixed on Colina, demanding an answer.
Color came back to her cheeks and firmness to her voice. "Stop!" she
cried to Macfarlane in her old imperious way. "I'm the mistress here.
My father is incapable of giving orders. You've no right to judge this
man. None of us can choose. There is no evidence. I will not have
either one handcuffed!"
Macfarlane fell back disconcerted. "I was thinking of your father's
safety," he muttered.
"I will watch over him myself," she said. She went swiftly up the
stairs.
Ambrose sat by himself on a chair at the junction of the side passage
with the stair hall. Naturally, after what had passed, he avoided the
other men--and they him.
It was growing light. He saw the panes of the side door gray and
whiten. Later he could make out the damaged front of the store across
the square.
Macfarlane was again upon watch by the door. Strange and Pringle were
in the library. Giddings was with Colina and the sick man up-stairs.
Ambrose watched the coming of day with grim eyes. He had had plenty of
time to consider his situation. True, Colina had not failed him, but
he did not minimize the dangers ahead.
He knew something of the uncertainty of men's justice. Out of the
tumult of rage that had at first shattered him had been born a resolve
to guard himself warily.
Daylight had an odd effect of novelty. It seemed to him as if years
separated him from the previous day.
Strange came out of the library to take an observation. At the sight
of him Ambrose's eyes burned. If scorn could kill the half-breed would
have fallen in his tracks.
"They're still quiet," remarked Macfarlane.
"Too quiet," said Strange. "If they made a noise we could guess what
they were up to!"
The two men held a low-voiced colloquy by the door. Ambrose supposed
that Strange was again offering to go out to reconnoiter. The
policeman was expostulating with him.
He heard Strange say; "I'm afraid they may attempt to wreck the mill
before they go. That would be fatal for all of us. I had no
opportunity yesterday to put on new locks."
Macfarlane begged Strange not to risk himself.
"He's safe enough," thought Ambrose grimly.
Strange finally had his way.
Ambrose speculated on what his real object might be. "That bull-headed
redcoat is likely to get a surprise!" he thought.
In less than ten minutes the half-breed returned. Macfarlane warmly
grasped his hand.
"It's all right," said Strange. "I went straight up to them. I had no
trouble. Even now the older heads are thinking of the consequences. I
think they'll be gone directly."
After some further talk in low tones Strange went back into the
library, and Macfarlane sat down with his gun across his knees.
Once more quiet ruled the house. Ambrose's head fell forward on his
breast and he slept uneasily.
He was roused by the cry they had waited all night in dread of hearing:
"They're coming!"
Strange and Pringle ran out into the hall. Low as the cry was it was
heard above. Colina and Giddings came flying down-stairs. Ambrose had
already joined the others.
In the face of the deadly danger that threatened the men forgot their
animosity for the moment. They were all crowded together in the narrow
passage, far enough back from the closed door to see through the panes
without being seen.
The five whites were afraid, as they might well be--but without panic.
The half-breed was suspiciously calm. They lacked an unquestioned
leader.
"That is Myengeen leading them," said Strange; "a bad Indian!"
"Macfarlane--tell us what to do," said Giddings.
"They're quiet now," said Colina. "I shall speak to them!"
Macfarlane put out a restraining hand. "Leave this to me!" he said
quickly.
"We're in each other's way here," cried Ambrose. "Let us spread
through some of the rooms."
"Right!" said Macfarlane. "Doane, Giddings, and Miss Colina--go into
the library and throw up the windows on this side. Shoot between the
boards if I give the word. The guns are inside the door."
A cry from Strange brought them out into the hall again. "They've
raised a white flag! They want to parley not to fight."
The others murmured their relief.
"Open the door!" cried Strange. "I will speak to them."
Ambrose fell back a little. The other men crowded around Strange,
urging him to be careful of himself. Strange was doing the modest hero!
It was a pretty little play. At the sight of it a harsh jangle of
laughter rang inside Ambrose. Colina took no part in the scene.
Strange stepped out on the porch. Ambrose heard him speaking the
uncouth Kakisa tongue, and heard the murmur of replies. He would have
given a bale of furs to understand what was being said.
The exchange was brief. Strange presently stepped inside and said:
"They say they want their leader--Ambrose Doane."
A dead silence fell on the little group. They turned and stared at
Ambrose. He, for the moment, was stunned with astonishment. He was
aware only of Colina's stricken, white face. She looked as if she had
been shot.
"They say they are ready to go," Strange went on. "They promise to
make no more trouble if we give Doane up. If we refuse, they say they
will take him, anyway."
"It's an infernal lie!" cried Ambrose desperately. "I am no leader of
theirs!"
She did not believe him. Her eyes lost all their luster and her lovely
face looked ashen. She seemed about to fall.
Giddings went to her aid, but she pushed him away. She seemed
unconscious of the presence of the ethers. Her accusing eyes were
fixed on Ambrose.
"I believed in you," she murmured in a dead voice. "I believed in you!
Oh, God!" Her hands were flung up in a despairing gesture. "Let him
go!" she cried to Macfarlane over her shoulder, and ran down the hall
and up the stairs.