A TERRIBLE INTERVIEW.
Zyp had been with us a month, and surely never did changeling happen
into a more congenial household.
Jason she still held at arm’s length, which, despite my admiration of
my brother, I secretly congratulated my heart on, for--let me get over
it at the outset--from first to last, I have never wavered in my
passion of love for this wild, beautiful creature. The unexpectedness
of her coming alone was a romance, the delight of which has never
palled upon me with the deadening years. Therefore it was that I early
made acquaintance with the demon of jealousy, than whom none, in
truth, is more irresistible in his unclean strength and hideousness.
Zyp and I were one day wandering under the shadow of the mighty old
cathedral of Winton.
“I don’t like it, Renny,” she said, pressing up close to me. “It’s
awful and it’s grand, but there are always faces at the windows when I
look up at them.”
“Whose?” I said, with a laugh.
“I don’t know,” she said; “but think of the thousands of old monks and
things whose home it was once and whose ghosts are shut up among the
stones. There!” she cried, pointing.
I looked at the old leaded window she indicated, but could see
nothing.
“His face is like stone and he’s beckoning,” she whispered. “Oh, come
along, Renny”--and she dragged me out of the grassy yard and never
stopped hurrying me on till we reached the meadows. Here her gayety
returned to her, and she felt at home among the flowers at once.
Presently we wandered into a grassy covert against a hedge on the
further side of which a road ran, and threw ourselves among the “sauce
alone” and wild parsley that grew there. Zyp was in one of her softest
moods and my young heart fluttered within me. She leaned over me as I
sat and talked to me in a low voice, with her fair young brow gone
into wrinkles of thoughtfulness.
“Renny, what’s love that they talk about?”
I laughed and no doubt blushed.
“I mean,” she said, “is it blue eyes and golden hair or brown eyes and
brown hair? Don’t be silly, little boy, till you know what I mean.”
“Well, what do you mean, Zyp?”
“I want to know, that’s all. Renny, do you remember my asking to kiss
and be friends that day we first met, and your refusing?”
“Yes, Zyp,” I stammered.
“You may kiss me now, if you like,” and she let herself drop into my
arms, as I sat there, and turned up her pretty cheek to my mouth.
My blood surged in my ears. I was half-frightened, but all with a
delicious guilt upon me. I bent hastily and touched the soft pink
curve with my trembling lips.
She lay quite still a moment, then sat up and gently drew away from
me.
“No,” she said, “that isn’t it. Shall I ever know, I wonder?”
“Know what, Zyp?”
“Never mind, for I shan’t tell you. There, I didn’t mean to be rude,”
and she stroked the sleeve of my jacket caressingly.
By and by she said: “I wonder if you will suffer, Renny, poor boy? I
would save you all if I could, for you’re the best of them, I
believe.”
Her very words were so inexplicable to me that I could only sit and
stare at her. I have construed them since, with a knife through my
heart for every letter.
As we were sitting silent a little space, steps sounded down the road
and voices with them. They were of two men, who stopped suddenly, as
they came over against us, hidden behind the hedge, as if to clinch
some argument, but we had already recognized the contrary tones of my
father and Dr. Crackenthorpe.
“Now, harkee!” the doctor was saying; “that’s well and good, but I’m
not to be baffled forever and a day, Mr. Ralph Trender. What does it
all amount to? You’ve got something hidden up your sleeve and I want
to know what it is.”
“Is that all?” My father spoke in a set, deep manner.
“That’s all, and enough.”
“Then, look up my sleeve, Dr. Crackenthorpe--if you can.”
“I don’t propose to look. I suggest that you just shake it, when no
doubt the you-know-whats will come tumbling out.”
“And if I refuse?”
“There are laws, my friend, laws--iniquitous, if you like; but, for
what they are, they don’t recognize the purse on the highway as the
property of him that picks it up.”
“And how are you going to set these laws in motion?”
“We’ll insert the end of the wedge first--say in some public print,
now. How would this look? We have it on good authority that Mr.
Trender, our esteemed fellow-townsman, is the lucky discoverer of----”
“Be silent, you!” My father spoke fiercely; then added in a low tone:
“D’ye wish all the world to know?”
“Not by any means,” said the other, quietly, “and they shan’t if you
fall in with my mood.”
“If I only once had your head in the mill wheel,” groaned my father,
with a curse. “Now, harken! I don’t put much value on your threat; but
this I’ll allow that I court no interference with my manner of life.
Take the concession for what it is worth. Come to me by and by and you
shall have another.”
“A couple,” said the doctor.
“Very well--no more, though I rot for it--and take my blessing with
them.”
“When shall I come?” said the doctor, ignoring the very equivocal
benediction.
“Come to-night--no, to-morrow,” said my father, and turning on his
heel strode heavily off toward the town.
I heard the doctor chuckling softly with a malignant triumph in his
note.
I clenched my teeth and fists and would have risen had not Zyp
noiselessly prevented me. It was wormwood to me; the revelation that,
for some secret cause, my father, the strong, irresistible and
independent, was under the thumb of an alien. But the doctor walked
off and I fell silent.
On our homeward way we came across Jason lying on his back under a
tree, but he took no notice of us nor answered my call, and Zyp
stamped her foot when I offered to delay and speak to him.
Nevertheless I noticed that more than once she looked back, as long as
he was in view, to see if he was moved to any curiosity as to our
movements, which he never appeared to be in the least.
Great clouds had been gathering all the afternoon, and now the first
swollen drops of an advancing thunderstorm spattered in the dust
outside the yard. Inside it was as dark as pitch, and I had almost to
grope my way along the familiar passages. Zyp ran away to her own den.
Suddenly, with a leap of the blood, I saw that some faintly pallid
object stood against the door of the room of silence as I neared it.
It was only with an effort I could proceed, and then the thing
detached itself and was resolved into the white face of my brother
Modred.
“Is that you, Renny?” he said, in a loud, tremulous voice.
“Yes,” I answered, very shakily myself. “What in the name of mystery
are you doing there?”
“I feel queer,” he said. “Let’s get to the light somewhere.”
We made our way to the back, opened the door leading on to the little
platform and stood looking at the stringed rain. Modred’s face was
ghastly and his eyes were awakened to an expression that I had never
thought them capable of.
“You’ve been in there?” I said.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“More fool you. If you like to tempt the devil you should have the
brass to outface him. Why, you’ve got it!” I cried, for he suddenly
let fall from his trembling hand a little round glittering object,
whose nature I could not determine in the stormy twilight.
He had it in his clutch again in a moment, though I pounced for it,
and then he backed through the open doorway.
“It’s naught that concerns you,” he said; “keep off, you beast!”
“What is it?” I cried.
“Water-parings,” said he, and clapped to the door in my face as I
rushed at him, and I heard him scuttle upstairs. The latch caught me
in the chest and knocked my breath out for a bit, so that I was unable
to follow, and probably he ran and bolted himself into his bedroom. In
any case, I had no mind for pursuit, my heart being busy with other
affairs; and there I remained and thought them out. Presently, being
well braced to the ordeal, I went indoors and upstairs to the living
room, where I was persuaded I should find my father. And there he sat,
pretty hot with drink and with a comfortless, glowering devil in his
eyes.
“Well!” he thundered, “what do you want?”
I managed to get out, with some firmness, “A word with you, dad,”
though his eyes disquieted me.
“Make it one, then, and a quick one!”
“Zyp and I were sitting behind a hedge this afternoon when you and Dr.
Crackenthorpe were at words on the other side.”
His eyes shriveled me, but the motion of his lips seemed to signify to
me that I was to go on.
“Dad, if he has any hold over you, let me share the bother and help if
I can.”
He had sat with his right hand on the neck of the bottle from which he
had been drinking, and he now flung the latter at me, with a snarl
like that of a mad dog. Fortunately for me, in the very act some flash
of impulse unnerved him, so that the bottle spun up to the ceiling and
crashed down again to the floor, from which the scattered liquor sent
up a pungent, sickening odor. Then he leaped to his feet and yelled at
me. I could make nothing of his words, save that they clashed into one
another in a torrent of furious invective. But in the midst his voice
stopped, with a vibrating snap; he put his hand to his forehead,
which, I saw with horror, was suddenly streaked with purple, and down
he sunk to the floor in a heap.
I was terribly frightened, and, running to him, endeavored in a
frantic manner to pull him into a sitting posture. I had half
succeeded, when, lying propped up against the leg of the table, he
gave a groan and bade me in a weak voice to let him be; and presently
to my joy I saw the natural color come back to his face by slow
degrees. By and by he was able to slide into the chair he had left,
where he lay panting and exhausted, but recovering.
“Renalt, my lad,” he said, in a dragging voice, “what was that you
said just now? Let’s have it again.”
I hesitated, but he smiled at me and bade me not to fear. Thus
encouraged, I repeated my statement.
“Ah,” he said; “and the girl--did she hear?”
“She couldn’t help it, dad. But she can’t have noticed much, for she
never even referred to it afterward.”
“Which looks bad, and so much for your profound knowledge of the sex.”
He looked at me keenly for some moments from under his matted
eyebrows; then muttered as if to himself:
“Here’s a growing lad, and loyal, I believe. What if I took him a yard
into my confidence?”
“Oh, yes, dad,” I said, eagerly. “You can trust me, indeed you can. I
only want to be of some use.”
He slightly shook his head, then seemed to wake up all of a sudden.
“There,” he said; “be off, like a good boy, and don’t worry me a
second time. You meant well, and I’m not offended.”
“Yes, dad,” I said a little sadly, and was turning to go, when he
spoke to me again:
“And if the girl should mention this matter--you know what--to you,
say what I tell you now--that Dr. Crackenthorpe thinks your father can
tell him where more coins are to be found like the one I gave him that
night; but that your father can’t and is under no obligation to Dr.
Crackenthorpe--none whatever.”
So I left him, puzzled, a little depressed, but proud to be the
recipient of even this crumb of confidence on the part of so reserved
and terrible a man.
Still I could not but feel that there was something inconsistent in
his words to me and those I had heard him address to the doctor.
Without a doubt his utterances on the road had pointed to a certain
recognition of the necessity of bribing the other to silence.