A LITTLE HEROINE.
It was three days later. Cleo Ballard had been sick with nervous
prostration ever since the night of the ball. Mrs. Davis was with her
constantly, and would permit no one whatever to see her--not even
Sinclair. She had told the facts to her husband and to the doctor, and
had enlisted them on her side; so that it was not a difficult matter for
her, for the time being, and while Cleo lay too ill to countermand her
orders, to forbid any one from intruding, for she did not want her to
know of the awful tragedy that had transpired.
Sinclair inquired day and night after Cleo's health, and sent flowers to
her. He, himself, had suffered a great deal since that same night, what
with the shock of his friend's death, Cleo's unexpected illness, and,
above all, an inexplicable longing and desire to see Numè--to go to her
and comfort her in this fresh trial that had come to her. She was now
utterly alone in the world, he knew, save for one distant relative.
Thoroughly exhausted with the trials of the last days, and wishing to
get away from the hotel, Sinclair had shut himself indoors, and had
thrown himself on a couch, trying vainly to find rest. He kept puzzling
over the cause of Takashima's death. Whether the truth had been
suspected among some of the Americans who had been on the boat with Cleo
and Orito or not, no one had as yet breathed a word of it to him. As he
lay there restlessly, some one tapped on his wall.
"Who is it?" he called, fretfully.
"It is Shiku, master-sir."
"Well, come in."
The boy entered almost fearfully, and began apologizing profusely in
advance.
"It is Koto who has made me intrude, master," he said. "She is waiting
outside for you, and tells me she must talk with you. She will not enter
the house, however, and she is very much fearful."
The American went to the door. There stood Koto, a trembling, frightened
little figure in the half-light.
"Come in, Koto," he said, noting her embarrassment; and then, as she
still hesitated, he drew her very gently but firmly into the house and
closed the door. Soon she was seated in one of his large chairs, and
because she was such a little thing it seemed almost to swallow her up.
"Numè not know that I come tell you of our grade sadness," she said,
stumblingly. "Mrs. Davis will not forgive me forever, but I _come_ tell
you the trute, Mister Consul." She began to weep all of a sudden, and
could go no further. The sight of the wretched little sobbing figure
touched Sinclair very deeply. He thought she had some revelation to make
about the death of Orito. He was unprepared for her next words.
"My mistress, Numè-san, luf vou so much that she going to die, I
thing'."
Sinclair stood up, a strange, doubting, uncomprehending look on his
face.
"What do you mean, Koto?" he asked, sternly. "Are you trying to--to fool
me about something?"
"No! No! I not to fool with you. I tell you the trute. Mrs. Davis tell
Numè of _vaery_ sad story account the august Americazan lady wait long
many years for you, that you love her always, just not love for a liddle
while, because of Numè, that----"
A sudden light began to break in on Sinclair.
"So Numè tell you _she_ not to luf because she want to _serve_ the
honorable Americazan ladies and not to _pain_ her father and Takashima
Sachi. Then she get _vaery_ sick. She cry for you all the time, and when
she is very sick she say: 'Koto, go tell Mr. Sinka I not mean.' Then
when she is better she say: 'No; Koto must not go.'"
Sinclair sat down again, and shaded his face with his hand. His mind was
in confusion. He could not think. Only out of the jumble of his thoughts
came one idea--that Numè loved him, after all. Now he remembered how
unnatural, how excited, she had been that last day. Ah, what a fool he
was to have believed her then!
His voice was quite unsteady when he broke the long silence. "Koto!
Koto! how can I ever repay you for what you have done?"
The little maid was weeping bitterly.
"Ah! Koto is _vaery_ 'fraid that she tell you all this, account Mrs.
Davis will speag that I mus' not worg any longer for Numè; she will
tell her relatives so, and they will send me away. Then Numè will be all
alone; because only Koto love Numè forever."
Sinclair was smiling very tenderly. "You have forgotten me, Koto. I will
take care of both of you, never fear, little woman. I am going with you
to her now."
"It is too late now," the girl said. "Numè will have retired when we
reach home. Shiku is going to take me home, and to-morrow will you
come?"
She rose from her seat, looking more hopeful and happy than when she had
first come in.
"You will make it all good again," she said, looking up at him with
somewhat of Numè's confidence: "for you are so _big_."