THE CHAMPION
Maud took the note with a glance at her uncle.
"Open it!" he said. "Don't mind me!" and stumped irately to the
bay-window and pulled aside the blind.
Maud opened the note. Her hands were not very steady. The envelope
contained a half-sheet of notepaper with a few words scrawled thereupon,
and a short length of string.
"Sorry to trouble you," ran the note. "But will you tie a knot in the
enclosed to show me the size of your wedding finger? Yours, Jake."
She looked up from the note as her uncle came tramping back. "Is it the
young man himself?" he demanded.
"It's Mr. Bolton, sir," said the landlady.
"Then show him in!" ordered the old man autocratically. "Show him in,
and we'll get it over! No time like the present."
A swift remonstrance rose to Maud's lips, but she did not utter it. The
landlady looked to her for confirmation of the order, but she did not
utter a single word.
"Get along!" commanded Uncle Edward. "Or I'll fetch him in myself!"
A whiff of tobacco-smoke came in through the open door. Maud stood very
still, listening. A moment later there came the sound of a pipe being
tapped on the heel of a boot, and then the firm, quiet tread of Jake's
feet in the passage.
He entered. "I didn't mean to disturb you again, but I'd forgotten this
little detail and I've got to catch an early train." He turned with no
sign of surprise and regarded Maud's visitor. "Good evening, sir!" he
said.
Mr. Warren gave him a brief nod. Maud still stood mute, Jake's note
with the piece of string dangling therefrom in her hand.
He went quietly to her. "Say! Let me fix that for you!" he said.
She suffered him to take her hand. It lay cold and quivering in his.
He wound the string round her third finger and knotted it. Then he
slipped it off, and took the hand closely and warmly into his own.
"I hope you haven't come to forbid the banns," he said, calmly returning
the grim scrutiny that the old man had levelled at him from the moment
of his entrance.
Uncle Edward uttered a sound indicative of intense disgust. "I? Oh,
I've no authority," he said. "I disapprove--if that's what you mean.
Any decent person would disapprove of the sort of alliance you two are
determined to make. But I don't expect my opinion to be deferred to. If
you choose to marry a woman who doesn't care two straws about you, it's
your affair, not mine."
Jake turned in his deliberate fashion to Maud. "Your uncle, I presume?"
he said.
"Yes," she made answer.
His face wore a smile that baffled her, as he said: "It's my opinion
that we should get on better alone together, though it's for you to
decide."
She looked at him rather piteously, and as if in answer to that look
Jake slipped a steady arm about her.
"What about the head of the family?" he said, speaking softly almost as
if to a child. "Reckon he'll be wanting you. Won't you go to him?"
The slight pressure of his arm directed her towards the door. She
yielded to it instinctively, with an abrupt feeling that the matter had
been taken out of her hands.
He went with her into the passage, and they stood for a moment together
under the flickering lamp.
"Bunny in bed?" he asked.
"Yes," she said.
He was still faintly smiling. "You go to bed too, my girl!" he said.
"I'll settle this old firebrand."
"Don't--quarrel with him, Jake!" she said nervously.
"What should I quarrel about?" said Jake. "Good night, forlorn
princess!"
His voice had a note in it that was almost motherly. She went, from him
with a distinct sense of comfort. His touch had been so strong and
withal so gentle.
As for Jake, he turned back into the room with the utmost confidence and
shut himself in with an air of decision.
"Now, sir," he said, "if you've any complaint to make, p'raps you'll be
good enough to mention it to me right now, and I'll deal with the same.
I'm not going to have my girl bullied any more."
His voice was quiet, even slightly drawling, but his eyes shone with
something of a glare. He came straight to the old man, who still leaned
on his umbrella, and stood before him.
The latter gazed at him ferociously, and for a space they remained thus,
stubbornly fixing each other. Then abruptly the old man spoke.
"You're very masterful, young fellow-my-lad. I suppose you think
yourself one of the lords of creation, good enough for anybody, hey?"
Jake's stern face relaxed slowly. "I don't claim to be a prince of the
blood," he said, "but I reckon I've got some--points."
"And you reckon you're good enough to marry my niece?" snapped Uncle
Edward.
Jake squared his shoulders. "I shall make her a better husband than
some," he said.
The old man smote the floor with his umbrella. "Shall you? And has she
told you that she's in love with another man?"
Jake's right hand went suddenly deep into his pocket and remained there.
"I am aware that she was once," he said, speaking very deliberately.
"But that is over. Also, he was not the man for her."
"A scoundrel, hey? Not a sound man like yourself?" There was a
malicious note in the query, but Jake ignored it.
"He does not count anyway," he said, with finality. "If he did, your
niece wouldn't have come to me for protection. I believe she appealed
to you first, but you had more important things to attend to. With me
it was otherwise, and so I consider that I have a greater right to be
her protector than anyone else in the world."
"Do you?" said Uncle Edward. "That means you're in love with her, I
suppose?"
Jake's eyes fenced with his. "You may take it to mean that if it
pleases you to do so," he said.
The old man raked his throat pugnaciously. "It's damn' presumption. I
tell you that," he said.
"That may be," said Jake, unmoved.
"But it doesn't alter your intentions, hey? You're one of the cussed
sort, I can see. Well, look here, young man! I'll make you a proposal.
You seem to think I've neglected my duty, though heaven knows these
Brians have no claims on me. But I've taken a fancy to the girl. She's
gentle, which is more than can be said for most of your modern young
women. So you just listen to me for a minute! You're on a wrong tack
altogether. Courting should come before marriage, not after. You may
marry first and you may think for a time that all is going to be well
between you, but there'll come a day when you'll wake up and find that
in spite of all you haven't won her. And that'll mean misery for you
both. Don't you do it, young man! You'll find the game's not worth the
candle. You have a little patience! Let the girl come to me for a bit!
I may be old, but I'll protect her. And if you care to come after her,
and do a little courting now and then, well--it's not a very brilliant
match for her, but I shan't forbid it."
He ceased to speak. There seemed to be a smile in the eyes that watched
him, but there was no suggestion of it about Jake's mouth, which was
slightly compressed.
"That's all very well, sir," he said in his slow quiet way. "But have
you laid this proposal of yours before Miss Brian herself?"
Uncle Edward made a sound of impatience. "She can think of no one but
her brother. She'll agree fast enough when she realizes that it's the
only thing to do."
"Will she?" said Jake. "And have you put it to her in that light?"
The old man coughed and made no reply.
Jake went on with the utmost composure. "You offer her a home where she
can continue to be a slave to her brother. You don't propose to lift
the burden at all, to ease her life, to make her happy. You wouldn't
know where to begin. You are ready and anxious to deliver her from me.
But there your goodness starts and finishes. You talk of my damnable
presumption." A ruddy glitter like the flicker of a flame dispelled the
hint of humour from the lynx-like eyes. "That is just your point of
view. But I reckon I'm nearer to her--several lengths nearer--than you
or any other man. She hasn't brought all her troubles to you and cried
her heart out in your arms, has she? No,--nor ever will--now! You've
come too late, sir,--too late by just twelve hours! You may keep your
money and your home to yourself! The girl is mine."
A deep note suddenly sounded in the man's voice, and Uncle Edward was
abruptly made aware of a lion in his path.
He backed at once. He had not the smallest desire for an encounter with
the savage beast.
"Tut, tut!" he said. "You talk like a Red Indian. I wasn't proposing
to deprive you of her; only to give the girl a free hand and you the
chance of winning her. If you take her without, there'll be the devil
to pay sooner or later; I can tell you that. But, if you won't take the
chance I offer, that's your affair entirely. I have no more to say."
"I am taking a different sort of chance," Jake said. "And I have a
suspicion that it's less of a gamble than the one you suggest. In any
case, I've put my money on it, and there it'll stay."
He looked Uncle Edward straight in the eyes a moment, and then broke
into his sudden, disarming smile.
"Can't you stop over the week-end now and give her away?" he asked
persuasively. "Her mother seems to shy at the notion."
"Her mother always was a fool," said Uncle Edward irascibly. Here at
least was a safe object upon which to vent his indignation! "The
biggest fool that ever lived! What on earth men found to like in her I
never could understand. Oh yes, I'll give the girl away. If you're so
set on getting married at once, I'd better stop and see that it's done
properly. Lucy never did anything properly in her life."
"Thank you," said Jake. "You are most kind--and considerate."
"Mark you, that doesn't mean that I approve," warned the old man. "It's
a hare-brained scheme altogether, but I suppose I owe it to my family to
see that it's done on the square."
Jake had suddenly become extremely suave. "That is very benevolent of
you, sir," he said.
"I regard it as my duty," said Uncle Edward gruffly.
He had never been called benevolent before, and the term was not
altogether to his liking. It seemed safer to accept it, however,
without question. There was an unknown element about this young man
that was in some fashion formidable. An odd respect mingled with his
first contempt. The fellow might be a bounder,--he was not absolutely
decided upon that head--but, as he himself had modestly stated, he had
some points. By marrying him, his young niece was about to commit a
very rash act, but it was possible--just possible--that it might not
lead to utter disaster. It was not a marriage of which he could
approve, but the man seemed solid, and certainly he himself had no
urgent desire to take in the girl and her cripple brother. Altogether,
though he did not like to think that his advice had been ignored, and
though at the back of his mind there lurked a vague uneasiness not
unmixed with self-reproach, it seemed that matters might have been
considerably worse.
"Don't you tyrannize over her now!" he said to Jake at parting. "You've
got a fighting face, young fellow-my-lad. But you bear in mind, she's a
woman, and--unless I am much mistaken--she is not the sort to stand it."
"I don't fight with women, sir," said Jake somewhat curtly. "I've other
things to do."
Uncle Edward smiled a dry smile. "And you've a few things to
learn--yet," he remarked enigmatically.