_The Stork and the Cranes_
In spite of Elise's declaration that she would see him again, Firmstone
dropped her from his mind long before he reached his office. She had
been an unexpected though not an unpleasant, incident; but he had
regarded her as only an incident, after all. Her beauty and vivacity
created an ephemeral interest; yet there were many reasons why it
promised to be only ephemeral. The Blue Goose was a gambling, drinking
resort, a den of iniquity which Firmstone loathed, a thing which, in
spite of all, thrust itself forward to be taken into account. How much
worse than a den of thieves and a centre of insurrection it was he had
never stated to himself. He, however, would have had no hesitancy in
completing the attributes of the place had he been asked. The fact that
the aegis of marriage vows spread its protecting mantle over the
proprietor, and its shadow over the permanent residents, would never
have caused a wavering doubt, or certified to the moral respectability
of the contracting parties. Firmstone was not the first to ask if any
good thing could come out of Nazareth, or if untarnished purity could
dwell in the tents of the Nazarenes. It occasionally happens that a
stork is caught among cranes and, even innocent, is compelled to share
the fate of its guilty, though accidental, associates.
Thus it happened that when Elise, for the second time, met Firmstone at
the falls he hardly concealed his annoyance. Elise was quick to detect
the emotion, though innocence prevented her assigning it its true
source. There was a questioning pain in the large, clear eyes lifted to
Firmstone's.
The look of annoyance on Firmstone's face melted. He spoke even more
pleasantly than he felt.
"Well, what I can do for you this time?"
"You can go away from my place and stay away!" Elise flashed out.
Firmstone's smile broadened.
"I didn't know I was a trespasser."
"Well, you are! I had this place before you came, and I'm likely to have
it after you are gone!" The eyes were snapping.
"You play Cassandra well." Firmstone was purposely tantalising. He was
forgetting the cranes, nor was he displeased that the stork had other
weapons than innocence.
Elise's manner changed.
"Who is Cassandra?"
The eager, hungry look of the changing eyes smote Firmstone. The
bantering smile disappeared. It occurred to him that Elise might be
outdoing her prototype.
"She was a very beautiful lady who prophesied disagreeable things that
no one believed."
Elise ignored the emphasis which Firmstone unconsciously placed on
_beautiful_. She grew thoughtful, endeavouring to grasp his analogy.
"I think," she said, slowly, "I'm no Cassandra." She looked sharply at
Firmstone. "Daddy says you're going; Mo-reeson says you're going, and
they put their chips on the right number pretty often."
Firmstone laughed lightly.
"Oh, well, it isn't for daddy and Morrison to say whether I'm to go or
not."
"Who's this Mr. Hartwell?" Elise asked, abruptly.
"He's the man who can say."
"Then you are up against it!" Elise spoke with decision. There was a
suggestion of regret in her eyes.
"These things be with the gods." Firmstone was half-conscious of a lack
of dignity in seeming to be interested in personal matters, not intended
for his immediate knowledge. Several times he had decided to end the
episode, but the mobile face and speaking eyes, the half-childish
innocence and unconscious grace restrained him.
"I don't believe it." Elise looked gravely judicial.
"Why not?"
"Because God knows what he's about. Mr. Hartwell doesn't; he is only
awfully sure he does."
Firmstone chuckled softly over the unerring estimate which Elise had
made. He began gathering up the reins, preparatory to resuming his way.
Elise paid no attention to his motions.
"Don't you want to see my garden?" she asked.
"Is that an invitation?"
"Yes."
"You are sure I'll not trespass?"
Elise looked up at him.
"That's not fair. I was mad when I said that."
She turned and hurriedly pushed through the matted bushes that grew
beside the stream. There was a kind of nervous restlessness which
Firmstone did not recall at their former meeting. They emerged from the
bushes into a large arena bare of trees. It was completely hidden from
the trail by a semicircle of tall spruces which, sweeping from the cliff
on either side of the fall, bent in graceful curves to meet at the
margin of the dividing brook. Moss-grown boulders, marked into miniature
islands by cleaving threads of clear, cold water, were half hidden by
the deep pink primroses, serried-massed about them. Creamy cups of
marshmallows, lifted above the succulent green of fringing leaves, hid
the threading lines of gliding water. On the outer border clustered
tufts of delicate azure floated in the thin, pure air, veiling modest
gentians. Moss and primrose, leaf and branch held forth jewelled fingers
that sparkled in the light, while overhead the slanting sunbeams broke
in iridescent bands against the beaten spray of the falling water. The
air, surcharged with blending colours, spoke softly sibilant of visions
beyond the power of words, of exaltation born not of the flesh, of
opening gates with wider vistas into which only the pure in heart can
enter. The girl stood with dreamy eyes, half-parted lips, an unconscious
pose in perfect harmony with her surroundings.
As Firmstone stood silently regarding the scene before him he was
conscious of a growing regret, almost repentance, for the annoyance that
he had felt at this second meeting. Yet he was right in harbouring the
annoyance. He felt no vulgar pride in that at their first meeting he had
unconsciously turned the girl's open hostility to admiration, or at
least to tolerance of himself. But she belonged to the Blue Goose, and
between the Blue Goose and the Rainbow Company there was open war.
Suppose that in him Elise did find a pleasure for which she looked in
vain among her associates; a stimulant to her better nature that
hitherto had been denied her? That was no protection to her. Even her
unconscious innocence was a weapon of attack rather than a shield of
defence. She and she alone would be the one to suffer. For this reason
Firmstone had put her from his mind after their first meeting, and for
this reason he had felt annoyance when she had again placed herself in
his path. But this second meeting had shown another stronger side in the
girl before him. That deep in her nature was an instinct of right which
her surroundings had not dwarfed. That this instinct was not to be
daunted by fear of consequences. She had evidently come to warn him of
personal danger to himself. This act carried danger--danger to her, and
yet she apparently had not hesitated. Perhaps she did not realise the
danger, but was he to hold it of less value on that account? Was he to
accept what she gave him, and then through fear of malicious tongues
abandon her to her fate without a thought? The idea was revolting, but
what could he do? His lips set hard. There must be a way, and he would
find it, however difficult. In some way she should have a chance. This
chance must take one of two forms: to leave her in her present
surroundings, and counteract their tendencies by other influences, or,
in some way, to remove her from the Blue Goose.
Firmstone was deeply moved. He felt that his course of action must be
shaped by the calmest judgment, if Elise were to be rescued from her
surroundings. He must act quickly, intelligently. If he had known of her
real parentage he would have had no hesitancy. But he did not know. What
he saw was Elise, the daughter of Pierre and Madame. To him they were
her parents. Whatever opportunities he offered her, however much she
might desire to avail herself of them, they could forbid; and he would
be helpless. Elise was under age; she was Pierre's, to do with as he
would. This was statute law. Firmstone rebelled against it
instinctively; but it was hopeless. He knew Pierre, knew his greed for
gold, his lack of scruple as to methods of acquiring it. He did not know
Pierre's love for Elise; it would not have weighed with him had he
known. For he was familiar with Pierre's class. Therefore he knew that
Pierre would rather see Elise dead than in a station in life superior to
his own, where she would either despise him or be ashamed of him. It was
useless to appeal to Pierre on the ground of benefit to Elise. This
demanded unselfish sacrifice, and Pierre was selfish.
Firmstone tried another opening, and was confronted with another danger.
If Pierre suspected that efforts were being made to weaken his hold on
Elise there was one step that he could take which would forever thwart
Firmstone's purpose. He had threatened to take this step. Firmstone's
pulses quickened for a moment, then calmed. His course was clear. The
law that declared her a minor gave her yet a minor's rights. She could
not be compelled to marry against her own wishes. Elise must be saved
through herself. At once he would set in motion influences that would
make her present associates repugnant to her. The strength of mind, the
hunger of soul, these elements that made her worth saving should be the
means of her salvation. Should Pierre attempt to compel her marriage,
even Firmstone could defeat him. Persuasion was all that was left to
Pierre. Against Pierre's influence he pitted his own.
"Where is Zephyr?" Elise broke the silence.
"Why do you ask?" The Blue Goose was in the ascendant. Firmstone was
casting about for time. The question had come from an unexpected
direction.
"Because he is in danger, and so are you."
"In danger?" Firmstone did not try to conceal his surprise.
"Yes." Elise made a slightly impatient gesture. "It's about the stage.
They will kill him. You, too. I don't know why."
"They? Who are they?"
"Morrison and Daddy."
"Did they know you would meet me to-day?"
"I don't know, and I don't care."
"You came to warn me?"
"Yes."
Firmstone stretched out his hand and took hers.
"I cannot tell you how much I thank you. But don't take this risk again.
You must not. I will be on my guard, and I'll look out for Zephyr, too."
He laid his other hand on hers.
At the touch, Elise looked up with hotly flaming cheeks, snatching her
hand from his clasp. Into his eyes her own darted. Then they softened
and drooped. Her hand reached for his.
"I don't care. I can take care of myself. If I can't, it doesn't
matter." Her voice said more than words.
"If you are ever in trouble you will let me know?" Firmstone's hand
crushed the little fingers in a tightening grasp.
"Zephyr will help me."
Firmstone turned to go.
"I cannot express my thanks in words. In another way I can, and I will."