THE RISING CURRENT
It was very dark along the avenue of pine-trees, darker than she had
anticipated. She almost wished that she had allowed Saltash to
accompany her. She went as quickly as she dared in the gloom, conscious
that it was growing late. The road wound considerably, and she could
not see the lamp at the gates. Overhead a rising wind moaned desolately
through the pines. They swayed and creaked as though whispering
together. Very soon the lights of the Castle were obscured behind her,
and she was in almost total darkness.
She pressed on with an uneasy suspicion that it must be later than she
had thought. Doubtless Jake had wheeled Bunny back to the house long
before. Bunny knew whither she had gone, so they would not be anxious
about her; but they would wonder why she was so late. The afternoon had
fled away like a dream.
She began to quicken her steps somewhat recklessly, but the road curved
more abruptly than she realized, and she presently ran into the grassy
bank, nearly falling into the outstretched arms of a fir-tree. She
recovered herself sharply with a gasp of dismay, and paused to try to
discern more clearly the winding of the way. It was at this point that
there came to her the sound of advancing footsteps. Someone was
approaching with a slow, purposeful stride that suddenly sent the blood
to her heart in a quick wave of something that was almost apprehension.
She stood quite still and waited.
Nearer and nearer came the leisurely tread. Instinct, blind and
unreasoning, prompted her to draw back into the shielding recesses of
the tree with a desperate desire to escape notice. It was a footfall
that she had come to know, and--why she could not have said--she did not
want to meet Jake at that moment. With a very curious dread at her
heart she stood and waited.
He came to within a couple of yards of her, and stopped. "You can come
out," he remarked dryly. "It's just you I've come along to fetch."
His voice was perfectly quiet and natural, but there was that in the
words that fired within her a burning indignation. She came forward and
faced him in the gloom.
"Why should you take that trouble?" she said.
She saw his eyes glitter in the darkness, and knew that they were upon
her with a lynx-like intensity. "I reckon I have the right," he said,
in his slow way. "You've no objection, I presume?"
Her cheeks burned hotly in the darkness. She knew that he had her at a
disadvantage. "I am fully capable of taking care of myself," she said,
beginning to walk on down the dim avenue.
He fell into his easy stride beside her. "Is that why Lord Saltash left
you to walk home alone?" he said.
She clenched her hands in the darkness. "What do you mean?"
"I think I am right in concluding that you have spent the afternoon with
him," Jake said, in his measured tones.
Maud stood suddenly still. She was quivering from head to foot. "You
are--quite right," she said, in a voice that she strove in vain to
steady. "I think I have told you before, Lord Saltash and I are old
friends."
"Yes, I am aware of that," Jake said.
He reached out a quiet hand and took her by the arm, leading her calmly
forward.
She went with him because she could not do otherwise, but she would have
given all she had at that moment to wrench herself free. There was no
escape for her, however; she was forced to endure his touch, forced to
go forward with him along a road that she could not see.
He led her in silence, calmly, unfalteringly, with the utmost
confidence. She was sure that those lynx-eyes of his could see in the
dark.
But his silence speedily became intolerable. It seemed to her to
bristle with condemnation. It goaded her against her will into speech.
"Lord Saltash has given me his permission to use the piano at the
Castle. I did not know when I went that he had returned."
"I could have told you that," commented Jake.
Again her resentment rose to a flame, burning fiercely. Yet his words
held no insult. With all her strength she strove for calmness.
"I did not know of it. In any case, I do not see that it was a matter
of very vital importance. An hour at the piano is a great treat to me,
and I shall probably go again."
"For an hour?" said Jake.
This time the peculiar intonation of his voice was unmistakable, not to
be ignored. She flung him instant defiance.
"For as long as I choose. My time is my own."
He was silent a moment, but she was conscious of the tightening of his
hand. At length: "All right, my girl," he said. "But remember, my
claim to it comes before Lord Saltash's. Some day it may happen that I
shall put in my claim. I never have been content to be passed at the
winning-post."
Her heart quivered at the deliberate purpose with which he spoke. She
walked on, saying no word.
They were nearing the gates, and the glare from the two great lamps
shone towards them, lighting the way. She braced herself, and made a
resolute attempt to free her arm from his hold.
"Easy! Easy!" said Jake. "We haven't got there yet. It's dark beyond
those lights."
She abandoned her effort, feeling that she had no choice. They walked
on together silently.
They reached and passed through the gates. The road stretched before
them steep and winding.
"We'll cut across the fields," said Jake.
He led her to a stile almost concealed in the hedge, and here his hold
upon her relaxed. He vaulted the rail, and waited for her.
He did not offer to assist her though the step was high. She mounted in
nervous haste to avoid his touch.
But for the darkness she would have found no difficulty in springing
down, but as it was she misjudged the distance, slipped, and fell. She
threw out her hands with a cry, and the next moment she was caught in
Jake's arms. He held her fast, so fast that for a few palpitating
seconds she felt the hard beating of his heart against her own. Then,
in response to her desperate efforts for freedom, he let her go, without
excuse, without apology, in a deep-breathing silence that somehow
appalled her. They walked side by side along the field-path, saying no
word.
There was a gate at the further end that led into the training-field
below the little orchard. As they reached this, Jake paused very
deliberately and spoke.
"I reckon I've got to prepare you for a visitor."
"A visitor!" She stopped in swift dread of she knew not what.
"A friend of mine," drawled Jake, with an odd touch of aggressiveness.
"You're not precisely dead nuts on my friends as a rule, I know. But I
guess this one may prove an exception. Dr. Capper turned up this
afternoon. I left him having tea with Bunny."
"Dr. Capper!" Maud gasped the name, scarcely conscious of speaking at
all.
"Dr. Capper from the States," said Jake, unmoved. "He chanced to be just
leaving for this country when my letter reached him, so he thought he'd
answer it in person and look us up first. He and Bunny are fast pals
already. He's a regular magician, is Dr. Capper."
"But--but--you never expected him so soon!" faltered Maud. "Surely--he
won't want to--to--examine Bunny yet."
"Not before to-morrow, maybe," said Jake. "We can't expect to keep him
very long, you know. He's a busy man. I've heard that people in this
country simply tumble over each other to consult him. He could make a
score of fortunes over here if he would. But he won't. He'll only take
up the cases he fancies, won't waste himself over easy things. That's
why we're so almighty lucky to get him."
His easy, unhurried speech gave her time to collect herself. She forced
her first, involuntary dismay into the background, facing the sudden
exigency of the situation with all the strength at her disposal.
"Jake," she said, "this thing has come very suddenly, but curiously
enough Lord Saltash was speaking about it only this afternoon. If--if
there is to be anything of the nature of an operation, he has offered to
place any part of the Castle at our disposal. It is a very generous
offer, and it--it would be an excellent thing for Bunny."
"Then you have decided to accept it?" said Jake.
His tone was perfectly quiet and matter-of-fact, but it amazed her. She
had expected a determined opposition. Disconcerted, she paused before
replying.
"I don't think it is especially generous," Jake said, and again it
seemed to her that he was talking to give her time. "But it might be a
good thing for Bunny. If you like, I will go up to-night and see
Saltash about it."
He opened the gate for her with the words, and she passed through with
feelings too mixed to bear any analysis.
"Am I to go?" he asked, as he dropped back into his sturdy stride beside
her.
"Please," she said, in a low voice.
His attitude was a complete puzzle to her. It seemed so utterly at
variance with the absurdly jealous line he had taken but a few minutes
before. But she could not ask for an explanation. The relief of
finding him prepared to act in unison with her on this point was too
great. She did not understand either his motives or his actions, but
she was thankful to find that there was to be no battle of wills between
them. After all, his motives were not of paramount importance.
As they walked through the last field, she tried to banish her
embarrassment and recover her normal composure of mien. But strive as
she would, she could not wholly reassure herself. Nor could she forget
the fast holding of his arms and the strong, deep throbbing of his heart
against her own. That moment had been a revelation to her upon which
she dared not dwell.
They reached the dark orchard, and passed up the dim path to the house.
Jake went straight up the steps to the French windows of the parlour
from which a cheery welcoming light shone forth. He raised a hand to
the catch.
"Wouldn't it be better to go round?" Maud said.
She was suddenly trembling all over in an agitation that seemed to
possess her, body and soul.
Jake did not pause. Steadily he raised the latch. "Come right in!" he
said.
The door opened, the light poured out upon them?
There came to her the sound of Bunny's cracked, difficult laugh. She
entered in front of Jake, dazzled, hesitating, uncertain.
Instantly a man's voice greeted her, a quiet, casual voice with an
unmistakable New York accent. "Ah, I guess this is the lady of the
house. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, madam. Mr. Bolton
will have told you who I am."
Tall and gaunt and meagre, he bent over the hand she offered him,
holding it in a strong, sustaining clasp.
She looked at him rather piteously, aware of green eyes darting over her
with lizard-like swiftness, eyes that shone intensely in a face that was
the colour of old ivory. She also saw a yellow pointed beard that for a
moment prejudiced her and the next was forgotten.
"It was so kind of you to come," she said, with a quivering smile.
He smiled in answer, a sudden, transforming smile that warmed her heart.
"I guess I followed my own inclination," he said. "Say, now, you're
cold. Bunny and I have been keeping up a good fire for you. Sit down
and make your husband do the waiting!"
His manner was so kind and withal so courteous that Maud's embarrassment
passed like a cloud. She came to the fire, pulling off her gloves and
stretching her fingers to the blaze.
Bunny accosted her with eager eyes. "Maud, he's going to overhaul me
and see if he can do anything for me. Maud, can't he do it to-night? I
won't sleep a wink if he doesn't."
Her heart sank inexplicably. She seemed to have stepped into a new
atmosphere that seethed with possibilities that somehow frightened her.
She was as one in the grip of a force indomitable that hurled her
headlong towards a goal she dreaded.
She leaned upon the mantelpiece, looking towards Capper with more of
appeal than she knew. "You are much too kind," she said.
He pushed up a chair for her. "Say, now, there's no need to hustle
any," he said. "I suspect there is no harm in my looking at the lad;
but we don't take any further action at present. I've a lot to get
through in this old country, and I'd just like to know right now if this
is a case for me or not."
He patted the back of the chair with fatherly insistence, and she sank
into it with a feeling of utter weariness and impotence. It seemed
futile to battle any longer against the torrent that bore her. She was
as a straw in the whirlpool of Fate.
"It is so good of you even to think of helping us," she said rather
unsteadily. "Please make your examination whenever it suits you best!
But Bunny is not a good sleeper. You will remember that, won't you?"
Capper took up the cup of tea that Jake had prepared, and handed it to
her. "Let me have the pleasure of seeing you drink this!" he said. "I
should like to make my examination to-night, if you have no objection.
In fact, I have come down for the purpose. My time, madam, is more
limited than anyone on this side could ever be made to realize. I won't
hustle you, but if I didn't hustle myself I guess I'd have to account
some day for a waste of good material."
He sat down in a chair facing her with the words, and fell to cracking
his finger-joints one after the other with absent energy. It was a way
he had, as Maud was soon to discover.
"You have had tea?" she asked.
He nodded. "I am ready to get to work. I shan't want an audience. If
I want anything I'll let you know. But I've a very decided notion that
my patient and I will get on best alone."
Jake raised his eyes suddenly. "That so, doctor?" he drawled. "Then I
guess I'll carry the youngster up right now."
Capper looked at him with a smile, and pulled his beard speculatively.
Bunny beamed approval.
Maud drank her tea in utter silence, feeling as if it would choke her.
The silence became prolonged, but she did not realize that anything was
expected of her till Capper leaned slightly towards her, and spoke.
"Have I your permission, madam?" he asked courteously.
She met his keen eyes and was struck afresh by the kindly reassurance
they held. "Of course," she said, in a low voice. "I--am very grateful
to you."
"I hope--some day--you may have cause to be," he rejoined.
Jake went to Bunny's side. She saw the boy raise his arms as he bent,
and clasp his neck. A few muttered confidences passed between them;
then Jake's strong arms lifted the frail, impotent body as they alone
knew how to lift. And in that moment it seemed to Maud that the beloved
burden had been taken finally from her, and she was left to wander alone
in a desert that was very dark and bare.