IN WHICH GEOFFREY RAVENSLEE OBTAINS HIS OBJECT
Mrs. Trapes glanced sadly around her cosy housekeeper's room and sighed
regretfully; she was alone, and upon the table ready to hand lay her
neat bonnet, her umbrella, and a pair of white cotton gloves, beholding
which articles her lips set more resolutely, her bony arms folded
themselves more tightly, and she nodded in grim determination.
"The labourer is worthy of his hire!" she sighed, apparently addressing
the bonnet, "but, if so be the labourer ain't worthy, why then, the
sooner he quits--"
A sound of quick, light feet upon the stair and a voice that laughed
gaily, a laugh so full of happiness that even Mrs. Trapes's iron
features relaxed, and her grim mouth curved in her rare smile. At that
moment the door opened and Hermione appeared, a radiant Hermione who
clasped Mrs. Trapes in her arms and tangled her up in her long motor
veil and laughed again.
"Oh, Ann, such a day!" she exclaimed, laying aside her long dust-coat.
"New York is a paradise--when you're rich! No more bargain days and
clawing matches over the remnant counter, Ann! Oh, it's wonderful to be
able to buy anything I want--anything! Think of it, Ann, isn't it just
a dream of joy? And I've shopped and shopped, and he was so dear and
patient! I bought Arthur a complete outfit--"
"Arthur!" said Mrs. Trapes, and groaned.
"And you, Ann, you dear thing, I bought you--guess what? But you never
could! I bought you a gold watch, the very best I could find, and he
bought you a chain for it, a long one to go around your dear neck, set
with diamonds and rubies, I mean the chain is--it's the cutest thing,
Ann! You remember you used to dream of a gold chain set with real
diamonds, some day? Well, 'some day's' to-day, Ann."
"But--oh, Hermy, I--I--"
"He wants to give it you himself, because he says you're the best friend
he ever had and--oh, here he is! You did say so, didn't you, Geoffrey?"
"And I surely mean it!" answered Ravenslee, tossing his driving
gauntlets into a chair, "though you certainly threw cold water upon my
peanut barrow, didn't you, Mrs. Trapes?"
"Oh, Geoffrey, dear, do give her that precious package; I'm dying to see
her open it!"
So Ravenslee drew the jeweller's neat parcel from his pocket and put
it into Mrs. Trapes's toil-worn hand. For a moment her bony fingers
clutched it, then she sighed tremulously and, placing it on the table,
rose and stood staring down at it. When at last she spoke, her voice was
harsher than usual.
"Hermy, dear--I mean Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, I--can't--take 'em!"
"But, dear--why not?"
"Because they're coals o' fire."
"But you must take them, dear; we bought them for you and--"
"Which jools, ma'am, I can in no wise accept."
"Why, Ann, dear, whatever--"
"Which jools, ma'am, having been a dream, must for me so remain, me not
bein' faithful in my dooties to you an' Mr. Geoffrey. Consequently I
begs to tender you now my resignation, yieldin' up my post in your
service to one better worthy, and returnin' t' th' place wherefrom I
come."
Here Mrs. Trapes put on her bonnet, setting it a little askew in her
agitation.
"Th' labourer is worthy of his hire, but if he ain't--so be it!"
Here Mrs. Trapes tied her bonnet strings so tightly and with such
resolute hands that she choked.
"Why, Ann dear," cried Hermione, "whatever do you mean? As if I could
bear to part with you!" Here she untied the bonnet strings. "As if I
could ever let you go back to Mulligan's!" Here she took off the bonnet.
"As if I could ever forget all your tender love and care for me in the
days when things were so hard and so very dark!" Here she tossed the
bonnet into a corner.
"My land!" sighed Mrs. Trapes, "me best bonnet--"
"I know, Ann. I made it for you over a year ago, and it's time you had
another, anyway! Now, open that parcel--this minute!"
But instead of doing so, Mrs. Trapes sank down in the chair beside the
table and bowed her head in her hands.
"Hermy," said she, "oh, my lamb, he's gone! You left Arthur in my care
an'--he's gone, an' it's my fault. Went away at five o'clock, an' here
it is nigh on to ten--an' him sick! God knows I've searched for
him--tramped to th' ferry an' back, an' th' footmen they've looked for
him an' so have th' maids--but Arthur's gone--an' it's my fault! So,
Hermy--my dear--blame me an' let me go--"
The harsh voice broke and, bowing her head, she sat silent, touching the
unopened packet of jewellery with one long, bony finger.
"Why, Ann--dear Ann--you're crying!" Hermione was down on her knees,
had clasped that long bony figure in her arms. "You mustn't, Ann, you
mustn't. I'm sure it wasn't your fault, so don't grieve, dear--there!"
And she had drawn the disconsolate grey head down upon her shoulder and
pillowed it there.
"But--oh, Hermy, he's gone! An' you told me to--look after him."
"Ann, if Arthur meant to go, I'm sure you couldn't have prevented him;
he isn't a child any longer, dear. There, be comforted--we'll hunt for
him in the car--won't we, Geoffrey?"
"Of course," nodded Ravenslee, "I'll 'phone the garage right away."
But as he opened the door he came face to face with Joe, who touched an
eyebrow and jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
"S'cuse me, sir," said he, "but it's that Old Un, covered wi' dust 'e
is, sir, an' wants a word wi' you. And, sir, 'e 's that mysterious as
never was. Shall I let him come in, sir?"
"You try an' keep me out, my lad, that's all!" panted the Old Un,
ducking under Joe's great arm, "I'm better man nor ever you'll be!"
So saying, the Old Un hobbled forward and, sinking into the nearest
armchair, fanned himself with his hat, which, like the rest of his
garments, bore the dust of travel.
"Greetin's, Guv!" said he, when he had caught his breath. "'Ere I be--a
old man as 'as done more for ye than all th' young 'uns put t'gether.
Mrs. Ravenslee, ma'am, best respex!"
"And what have you been doing now?" enquired Ravenslee, smiling.
"Well, Guv, I been an' got th' murderer for ye, that's all!"
Hermione caught her breath suddenly and gazed at the fierce, dusty old
man with eyes full of growing terror; beholding which Ravenslee frowned,
then laughed lightly and, seating himself on a corner of the table,
swung his leg to and fro.
"So you've found him out, have you, Old Un?"
"Ah, that I have!"
"Are you sure?"
"Ah, quite sure, Guv."
"Well, where is he--trot him out."
"'E's comin' along--th' Spider's bringin' un. Ye see, he's a bit wore
out same as I am--we been trampin' all th' arternoon. Look at me shoes,
that's th' worst o' patent leather--they shows th' dust. Joe, my lad,
jest give 'em a flick over with ye wipe."
But at this moment steps were heard slowly approaching, and Hermione
uttered an inarticulate cry, then spoke in an agonised whisper:
"Arthur!"
Pallid of cheek and drooping of head Spike stood in the doorway, his
shabby, threadbare clothes dusty and travel-stained, his slender shape
encircled by the Spider's long arm. At Hermione's cry he lifted his head
and looked up yearningly, his sensitive mouth quivered, his long-lashed
eyes swam in sudden tears, he strove to speak but choked instead; then
Ravenslee's calm, pleasant voice broke the painful silence.
"Old Un," said he, rising, "I understand you are fond of jam--well, from
now on you shall bathe in it if you wish."
"Spoke like a true sport, Guv!"
"Why, you see, you have surely done me a very great service."
"Meanin' because I found ye th' murderer."
"Murderer?" exclaimed Ravenslee, staring.
"Why, yes--there 'e is!" and the old man pointed a long finger at the
shrinking Spike.
"Old Un," said Ravenslee, shaking his head, "don't joke with me--"
"I--I ain't jokin', Guv," cried the Old Un, rising. "Why--oh,
Lorgorramighty, you don't mean t' say as this ain't 'im? Why, 'e 's
confessed, Guv; I 'eard 'im!"
Ravenslee smiled gently and shook his head again.
"But he has been sick, Old Un; he was hurt, you know, when he saved my
life."
"But, Lord, Guv, if 'e 's confessed--"
"He has been sick, Old Un, and when we are sick the wisest of us are apt
to say silly things--even I did, so they tell me."
"What?" quavered the old man, "ain't I--ain't I found no murderer for
ye, arter all, Guv?"
"You've done something much, very much better, Old Un--you've found me
my brother!"
"Brother!" echoed Spike, "brother? Oh, Geoff--" he sighed deeply, and
as Ravenslee crossed toward him he smiled wanly and sank swooning into
the supporting arms of the Spider, who at a word from Hermione bore the
boy up-stairs; but scarcely was he laid upon his bed than he opened his
heavy eyes.
"Say, Spider," said he wearily, "old Geoff sure does play square--even
to a worm like me--well, I guess! No, don't go yet, I want yer to hear
me try to explain the kind o' dirty dog I been--I guess he won't want
t' call me 'brother' after that; no, siree, he'll cut me out same as you
have an' serve me right too." Then turning toward where Ravenslee and
Hermione stood he continued: "Geoff--Hermy, dear--ah, no, don't touch
me, I ain't worth it. I'm too dirty--Spider says so--an' I guess he's
right. Listen--I meant t' go away t'day an' leave you because I felt so
mean, but th' old man followed me, an' I couldn't run because my arm
pained some--y' see, I fell on it. So I let him bring me back because I
guess it's up t' me t' let you know as I ain't fit t' be your brother,
Geoff--or Hermy's." For a moment Spike paused, then with an effort he
continued but kept his face averted. "Geoff, it was me--in the wood that
time! Yes, it was me, an' I had a gun. I--I meant--t' do you in, Geoff--"
Spike's voice failed and he was silent again, plucking nervously at the
sheet, while Hermione's proud head drooped and her hands clasped and
wrung each other in an agony of shame; but to these painfully rigid
hands came another hand, big and strong yet very gentle, at whose
soothing touch those agonised fingers grew lax and soft, then clung
to that strong hand in sudden, eager passion.
"Poor old Spike!" said Ravenslee, and his tone was as gentle as his
touch.
"But--but, Geoff," stammered the boy. "I--oh, don't you see? I meant
to--kill you?"
"Yes, I understand; you thought I deserved it--why?"
"Oh, I was crazy, I guess! Bud told me lies--an' I believed him--lies
about you an' Hermy--he said--you'd make Hermy go--the same road--little
Maggie Finlay went--so I came t' kill you--"
"Spike, if you believed that, if you really believed that, I don't blame
you for trying a shot--"
"But I didn't--I couldn't! When I saw you sittin' there so unsuspectin',
I just couldn't do it--I tried to, but I couldn't. An' somehow I dropped
th' gun, an' then I heard a shot, an' when I looked up I saw you throw
out your arms an' fall--my God, I'll never forget that! Then I saw Bud
starin' down at you an' th' pistol smokin' in his hand. I meant t' do it
but I couldn't, so Bud did it himself. I'm as bad as him, I reckon, but
it was Bud shot you--Soapy saw him an' knows it was Bud--ask Soapy. An'
now I've told you all; I guess I ain't fit t' stay here any longer."
Spike's voice choked upon a sob, he buried his face in the pillow, and
so there fell a silence--a strange, tense hush, a pause so unexpected
that he looked up and saw that Hermione's head was bowed no longer, but
she stood, very proud and tall, gazing upon her husband, and in her eyes
was a great and wondrous light; and as she looked on him so he gazed on
her. They had no thought, no eyes for Spike just then, wherefore he hid
his face again.
"I guess this about puts the kybosh on th' brother business!" he sighed
miserably, "an' I sure ain't fit t' be th' Spider's pal, I reckon!"
But now the Spider spoke, rather quick and jerkily:
"Say, Kid--get onto this! I'm takin' back--everything I says t' you
t'day, see? Because, oh, well--I guess you've sure woke up at last! So,
Kid--give us your mitt!"
Eagerly Spike grasped the Spider's big fist, and they shook hands
gravely and very deliberately, looking into each other's eyes the while.
Then, still quick and jerkily, the Spider turned and hurried out of the
room. Then Spike turned to Ravenslee.
"Geoff," he sighed, "I'm not goin' to ask you to forgive me yet, I
can't--I'm goin' t' wait an' show you--"
But as he paused Ravenslee's hand was upon the lad's drooping shoulder.
"Arthur," said he, "from now on--from to-night--you are going to be my
brother more than ever--a brother we shall both be proud of--what do you
say?"
But Spike's eyes were wet, his mouth quivered, and instead of answering
he buried his face in the pillow again.
"Say, Hermy," he mumbled, "take him away before I do th' tear-gushin'
act! Take him down-stairs--give him a drink--light him a
cigarette--kiss him! Only take him away before I get mushy. But,
say--when I'm in bed, you'll--you'll come an'--say good night like--like
you used to, Hermy dear?"
Swiftly she stooped and kissed that curly head.
"I'll come--oh, I'll come, boy, dear!" she murmured, and left him with
Mrs. Trapes.
Down-stairs the fire glowed, filling the room with shadows, and side by
side they stood looking down into the heart of the fire and were silent
awhile, and, though she was so near, he didn't touch her.
"So it wasn't Arthur, after all!" he said at last.
"No," she answered softly, "it wasn't Arthur--thank God!"
"Amen!" said he, so fervently that she glanced up at him swiftly, then
looked into the fire again. Seeing how the colour deepened in her cheek,
he came a little nearer; but still he didn't touch her; instead, he took
out tobacco pouch and pipe and began to fill it with strangely clumsy
fingers, and Hermione saw that his hands were trembling.
"Let me!" she said gently. So he surrendered pipe and pouch and,
watching, saw that her hands trembled also; when at last she had filled
the pipe, he took it and laid it on the table.
"Aren't you going to smoke, dear?"
"No, not now. You'll remember that Arthur also suggested you should--"
"Give you something to drink!" she added a little breathlessly and
crossed to the cellaret in the corner. "Will you have brandy and soda?"
"Thanks--yes--that will do," he answered absently, and when she
dutifully brought the filled glass he took it and set it down untasted
beside the pipe.
"Why, Geoffrey!" she said in murmurous surprise, "aren't you thirsty?"
"No, not now. You will probably remember that Arthur also suggested you
should--"
"I know!" she breathed, "but, oh, Geoffrey, dear--wait--just a little
longer."
"Why?" he demanded hoarsely.
"Because!" she answered, staring down at her clasped hands.
"Why?"
"Because, my Geoffrey, if--if I let myself--kiss you now, I--shall never
be able to--tear myself away, and I must say good night to Arthur and--"
She paused as a knock sounded on the door, and Mrs. Trapes appeared.
"Why, dear land o' my fathers!" she exclaimed. "Ain't you had time t'
take off your bonnet yet, Hermy?"
"Goodness me!" exclaimed Hermione, "I forgot it!" So saying, off it
came, and there was the curl above her eyebrow more wantonly alluring
than ever.
"An' there's that blessed b'y," continued Mrs. Trapes, "a-layin'
up-stairs yearnin' for you, Hermy, an' him s' pale an' gentle--God bless
him! An' it now bein' exackly twenty-two an' a half minutes past 'leven
by my beautiful new watch as ticks most musical! Time as you was in
bed--both of you! an' that reminds me, Hermy, I sent your maid t' bed
like you told me, an' with my own two hands I laid out one o' them
lovely noo nightdresses--the one with the short sleeves an' lace as you
showed me last night an'--Land sakes, she's gone! Think o' that now--my,
my! Mrs. Ravenslee's wonderful quick an' light on her feet, Mr.
Geoffrey!"
Here Mrs. Trapes raised the watch to her ear and hearkened to its tick
again, smiling at Ravenslee's broad back as he turned to reach his
glass.
"Them nightdresses," she sighed, "as is all fluffs an' frills an'
openwork, may be all right when you're young, but for true comfort give
me--flannel, every time."
Here Ravenslee, in the act of sipping his brandy and soda, choked; when
at last he glanced around, Mrs. Trapes was gone.
Then he drew a chair to the fire and, sitting down, took up his pipe and
tried to light it, but Hermione's nervous white fingers had packed it
too tightly for mortal suction, whereat he sighed and, yielding to the
impossible, sat with it in his hand, lost in happy thought and waiting
for the swift light footsteps he yearned to hear.
The clock in the hall without struck midnight, but long after the mellow
chime had died away he sat there waiting; but the great house lay very
still about him, and no sound broke the pervading quiet. Wherefore at
last he grew restless, frowned at the dying fire, and his strong fingers
clenched themselves fiercely about the pipe they still held.
All at once he started, rose to his feet, and turned toward the door
eager-eyed, as a hand knocked softly; before he could speak it opened,
and Mrs. Trapes reappeared; she was clad in a long flannel dressing
gown, and as she paused in the shadows by the door he could vaguely
define that she still held the precious watch to her ear.
"It do tick that musical," she said, "an' I can't sleep this night till
I've tried t' thank ye both for--for all your goodness to a lonely
woman. Ah, Mr. Geoffrey, I guess th' day as you came seekin' lodgin's at
my little flat was a good day for Ann Angelina Trapes--why, my land, Mr.
Geoffrey--ain't Hermy here?"
"No," answered Ravenslee a little bitterly. "Oh, no, I'm quite alone--as
usual, Mrs. Trapes."
"Why, now, that's queer!"
"How queer?"
"Because I've jest been into her bedroom, an' there's her things--except
that nightdress--but she--ain't!"
"Not there? She must be! Did you look in--her bed?"
"Lord, Mr. Geoffrey--her bed ain't been tetched!"
"Then where in the world is she?"
"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, consulting her watch again, "it is now exactly
fifteen and three-quarter minutes after midnight, so I guess she's in
bed somewhere. But this is a big house, an' there's lots of bedrooms, so
if I was you, I'd go an' look--till I found her--"
Ravenslee was at the door so swiftly that Mrs. Trapes started, and she
saw his eyes were very bright, and the hands he laid on her bony
shoulders were quivering.
"Mrs. Trapes," said he, "I will!"
Then he stooped, very suddenly, and kissed the thin, grey hair above her
grim eyebrow, and so--was gone.
"Find her?" mused Mrs. Trapes, glancing after him up the wide stairs.
"Why, yes, I guess he will sure find her--where she should have been
weeks ago. Lord, what a silly, beautiful, lovely thing love is!" and she
stood awhile smiling down into the fire, and her smile was very tender.
Then she sighed, switched off the lights, and went softly away.