"In her room."
"What is she going to do, Jack?"
"Marry me as soon as possible. She wants to stay here for a few days but
I can't leave her here alone. I think I'll telephone to Ghost Lake for a
sleigh."
"Let me talk to her," said Darragh in a low voice.
"Do you think you'd better--at such a time?"
"I think it's a good time. It will divert her mind, anyway. I want her
to come to Harrod Place."
"She won't," said Stormont grimly.
"She might. Let me talk to her."
"Do you realise how she feels toward you, Jim?"
"I do, indeed. And I don't blame her. But let me tell you; Eve Strayer
is the most honest and fair-minded girl I ever knew.... Except one....
I'll take a chance that she'll listen to me.... Sooner or later she
will be obliged to hear what I have to tell her.... But it will be
easier for her--for everybody--if I speak to her now. Let me try,
Jack."
Stormont hesitated, looked at him, nodded. Darragh stood his rifle
against the bench on the kitchen porch. They entered the house slowly.
And met Eve descending the stairs.
The girl looked at Darragh, astonished, then her pale face flushed with
anger.
"What are you doing in this house?" she demanded unsteadily. "Have you
no decency, no shame?"
"Yes," he said, "I am ashamed of what my kinsman has done to you and
yours. That is partly why I am here."
"You came here as a spy," she said with hot contempt. "You lied about
your name; you lied about your purpose. You came here to betray Dad! If
he'd known it he would have killed you!"
"Yes, he would have. But--do you know why I came here, Eve?"
"I've told you!"
"And you are wrong. I didn't come here to betray Mike Clinch: I came to
save him."
"Do you suppose I believe a man who has lied to Dad?" she cried.
"I don't ask you to, Eve. I shall let somebody else prove what I say. I
don't blame you for your attitude. God knows I don't blame Mike Clinch.
He stood up like a man to Henry Harrod.... All I ask is to undo some of
the rotten things that my uncle did to you and yours. And that is partly
why I came here."
The girl said passionately: "Neither Dad nor I want anything from Harrod
Place or from you! Do you suppose you can come here after Dad is dead
and pretend you want to make amends for what your uncle did to us?"
"Eve," said Darragh gravely, "I've made some amends already. You don't
know it, but I have.... You may not believe it, but I liked your
father. He was a real man. Had anybody done to me what Henry Harrod did
to your father I'd have behaved as your father behaved; I'd never have
budged from this spot; I'd have hunted where I chose; I'd have borne an
implacable hatred against Henry Harrod and Harrod Place, and every soul
in it!"
The girl, silenced, looked at him without belief.
He said: "I am not surprised that you distrust what I say. But the man
you are going to marry was a junior officer in my command. I have no
closer friend than Jack Stormont. Ask him whether I am to be believed."
Astounded, the girl turned a flushed, incredulous face to Stormont.
He said: "You may trust Darragh as you trust me. I don't know what he
has to say to you, dear. But whatever he says will be the truth."
Darragh said, gravely: "Through a misunderstanding your father came into
possession of stolen property, Eve. He did not know it had been stolen.
I did. But Mike Clinch would not have believed me if I had told him that
the case of jewels in his possession had been stolen from a woman....
Quintana stole them. By accident they came into your father's
possession. I learned of this. I had promised this woman to recover her
jewels.
"I came here for that purpose, Eve. And for two reasons: first, because
I learned that Quintana also was coming here to rob your father of these
gems; second, because, when I knew your father, and knew _you_, I
concluded that it would be an outrage to call on the police. It would
mean prison for Clinch, misery and ruin for you, Eve. So--I tried to
steal the jewels ... to save you both."
He looked at Stormont, who seemed astonished.
"To whom do these jewels belong, Jim?" demanded the trooper.
"To the young Grand Duchess of Esthonia.... Do you remember that I
befriended her over there?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember that the Reds were accused of burning her chateau and
looting it?"
"Yes, I remember."
"Well, it was Quintana and his gang of international criminals who did
that," said Darragh drily.
And, to Eve: "By accident this case of jewels, emblazoned with the coat
of arms of the Grand Duchess of Esthonia, came into your father's
possession. That is the story, Eve."
There was a silence. The girl looked at Stormont, flushed painfully,
looked at Darragh.
Then, without a word, she turned, ascended the stairs, and reappeared
immediately carrying the leather case.
"Thank you, Mr. Darragh," she said simply; and laid the case in his
hand.
"But," said Darragh, "I want you to do a little more, Eve. The owner of
these gems is my guest at Harrod Place. I want you to give them to her
yourself."
"I--I can't go to Harrod Place," stammered the girl.
"Please don't visit the sins of Henry Harrod on me, Eve."
"I--don't. But--but that place----"
After a silence: "If Eve feels that way," began Stormont awkwardly, "I
couldn't become associated with you in business, Jim----"
"I'd rather sell Harrod Place than lose you!" retorted Darragh almost
sharply. "I want to go into business with you, Jack--if Eve will permit
me----"
She stood looking at Stormont, the heightened colour playing in her
cheeks as she began to comprehend the comradeship between these two men.
Slowly she turned to Darragh, offered her hand:
"I'll go to Harrod Place," she said in a low voice.
Darragh's quick smile brightened the sombre gravity of his face.
"Eve," he said, "when I came over here this morning from Harrod Place I
was afraid you would refuse to listen to me; I was afraid you would not
even see me. And so I brought with me--somebody--to whom I felt certain
you would listen.... I brought with me a young girl--a poor refugee
from Russia, once wealthy, to-day almost penniless.... Her name is
Theodorica.... Once she was Grand Duchess of Esthonia.... But this
morning a clergyman from Five Lakes changed her name.... To such
friends as you and Jack she is Ricca Darragh now ... and she's having a
wonderful time on her new snow-shoes----"
He took Eve by one hand and Stormont by the other, and drew them to the
kitchen door and kicked it open.
Through the swirling snow, over on the lake-slope at the timber edge, a
graceful, boyish figure in scarlet and white wool moved swiftly over the
drifts with all the naive delight of a child with a brand new toy.
As Darragh strode out into the open the distant figure flung up one arm
in salutation and came racing over the drifts, her brilliant scarf
flying.
All aglow and a trifle breathless, she met Darragh just beyond the
veranda, rested one mittened hand on his shoulder while he knelt and
unbuckled her snow-shoes, stepped lightly from them and came forward to
Eve with out-stretched hand and a sudden winning gravity in her lovely
face.
"We shall be friends, surely," she said in her quick, winning
voice;--"because my husband has told me--and I am so grieved for
you--and I need a girl friend----"
Holding both Eve's hands, her mittens dangling from her wrist, she
looked into her eyes very steadily.
Slowly Eve's eyes filled; more slowly still Ricca kissed her on both
cheeks, framed her face in both hands, kissed her lightly on the lips.
Then, still holding Eve's hands, she turned and looked at Stormont.
"I remember you now," she said. "You were with my husband in Riga."
She freed her right hand and held it out to Stormont. He had the grace
to kiss it and did it very well for a Yankee.
Together they entered the kitchen door and turned into the dining room
on the left, where were chairs around the plain pine table.
Darragh said: "The new mistress of Harrod Place has selected your
quarters, Eve. They adjoin the quarters of her friend, the Countess
Orloff-Strelwitz."
"Valentine begged me," said Ricca, smiling. "She is going to be lonely
without me. All hours of day and night we were trotting into one
another's rooms----" She looked gravely at Eve: "You will like
Valentine; and she will like you very much.... As for me--I already
love you."
She put one arm around Eve's shoulders: "How could you even think of
remaining here all alone? Why, I should never close my eyes for thinking
of you, dear."
Eve's head drooped; she said in a stifled voice: "I'll go with you....
I want to.... I'm very--tired."
"We had better go now," said Darragh. "Your things can be brought over
later. If you'll dress for snow-shoeing, Jack can pack what clothes you
need.... Are there snow-shoes for him, too?"
Eve turned tragically to her lover: "In Dad's closet----" she said,
choking; then turned and went up the stairs, still clinging to Ricca's
hand and drawing her with her.
Stormont followed, entered Clinch's quarters, and presently came
downstairs again, carrying Clinch's snow-shoes and a basket pack.
He seated himself near Darragh. After a silence: "Your wife is
beautiful, Jim.... Her character seems to be even more beautiful....
She's like God's own messenger to Eve.... And--you're rather wonderful
yourself----"
"Nonsense," said Darragh, "I've given my wife her first American friend
and I've done a shrewd stroke of business in nabbing the best business
associate I ever heard of----"
"You're crazy but kind.... I hope I'll be some good.... One thing;
I'll never get over what you've done for Eve in this crisis----"
"There'll be no crisis, Jack. Marry, and hook up with me in business.
That solves everything.... Lord!--what a life Eve has had! But you'll
make it all up to her ... all this loneliness and shame and misery of
Clinch's Dump----"
Stormont touched his arm in caution: Eve and Ricca came down the
stairs--the former now in the grey wool snow-shoe dress, and carrying
her snow-shoes, black gown, and toilet articles.
Stormont began to stow away her effects in the basket pack; Darragh went
over to her and took her hand.
"I'm so glad we are to be friends," he said. "It hurt a lot to know you
held me in contempt. But I had to go about it that way."
Eve nodded. Then, suddenly recollecting: "Oh," she exclaimed, reddening,
"I forgot the jewel case! It's under my pillow----"
She turned and sped upstairs and reappeared almost instantly, carrying
the jewel-case.
Breathless, flushed, thankful and happy in the excitement of
restitution, she placed the leather case in Ricca's hands.
"My jewels!" cried the girl, astounded. Then, with a little cry of
delight, she placed the case upon the table, stripped open the
emblazoned cover, and emptied the two trays. All over the table rolled
the jewels, flashing, scintillating, ablaze with blinding light.
And at the same instant the outer door crashed open and Quintana covered
them with Darragh's rifle.
"Now, by Christ!" he shouted, "who stirs a finger shall go to God in one
jump! You, my gendarme frien'--_you_, my frien' Smith--turn your damn
backs--han's up high!--tha's the way!--now, ladies!--back away
there--get back or I kill!--sure, by Jesus, I kill you like I would some
white little mice!----"
With incredible quickness he stepped forward and swept the jewels into
one hand--filled the pocket of his trousers, caught up every stray stone
and pocketed them.
"You gendarme," he cried in a menacing voice, "you think you shall
follow in my track. Yes? I blow your damn head off if you stir before
the hour.... After that--well, follow and be damn!"
Even as he spoke he stepped outside and slammed the door; and Darragh
and Stormont leaped for it. Then the loud detonation of Quintana's rifle
was echoed by the splintering rip of bullets tearing through the closed
door; and both men halted in the face of the leaden hail.
Eve ran to the pantry window and saw Quintana in somebody's stolen
lumber-sledge, lash a big pair of horses to a gallop and go floundering
past into the Ghost Lake road.
As he sped by in a whirl of snow he fired five times at the house, then,
rising and swinging his whip, he flogged the frantic horses into the
woods.
In the dining room, Stormont, red with rage and shame, and having found
his rifle in the corridor outside Eve's bedroom, was trying to open the
shutters for a shot; and Darragh, empty-handed, searched the house
frantically for a weapon.
Eve, terribly excited, came from the pantry:
"He's gone!" she cried furiously. "He's in somebody's lumber-sledge with
a pair of horses and he's driving west like the devil!"
Stormont ran to the tap-room telephone, cranked it, and warned the
constabulary at Five Lakes.
"Good God!" he exclaimed, turning to Darragh, scarlet with
mortification, "what a ghastly business! I never dreamed he was within
miles of Clinch's! It's the most shameful thing that ever happened to
me----"
"What could anybody do under that rifle?" said Eve hotly. "That beast
would have murdered the first person who stirred!"
Darragh, exasperated and dreadfully humiliated, looked miserably at his
brand-new wife.
Eve and Stormont also looked at her. She had come forward from the rear
of the stairway where Quintana had brutally driven her. Now she stood
with one hand on the empty leather jewel case, looking at everybody out
of pretty, bewildered eyes.
To Darragh, in a perplexed, unsteady voice: "Is it the same bandit who
robbed us before?"
"Yes; Quintana," he said wretchedly. Rage began to redden his features.
"Ricca," he said, "I promised I'd find your jewels.... I promise you
again that I'll never drop this business until your gems--and the
Flaming Jewel--are in your possession----"
"But, Jim----"
"I swear it!" he exclaimed violently. "I'm not such a stupid fool as I
seem----"
"Dear!" she protested excitedly, "you _have_ done what you promised. My
gems _are_ in my possession--I believe----"
She caught up the emblazoned case, stripped out the first tray, then the
second, and flung them aside. Then, searching with the delicate tip of
her forefinger in the empty case, she suddenly pressed the bottom
hard,--thumb, middle finger and little finger forming the three apexes
of an equilateral triangle.
There came a clear, tiny sound like the ringing of the alarm in a
repeating watch. Very gently the false bottom of the case detached
itself and came away in the palm of her hand.
And there, each embedded in its own shaped compartment of chamois, lay
the Esthonian jewels--the true ones--deep hidden, always doubly guarded
by two sets of perfect imitations lining the two visible trays above.
And, in the centre, blazed the Erosite gem--the magnificent Flaming
Jewel, a glory of living, blinding fire.
Nobody stirred or spoke. Darragh blinked at the crystalline blaze as
though stunned.
Then the young girl who had once been Her Serene Highness Theodorica,
Grand Duchess of Esthonia, looked up at her brand-new husband and
laughed.
"Did you really suppose it was these that brought me across the ocean?
Did you suppose it was a passion for these that filled my heart? Did you
think it was for these that I followed you?"
She laughed again, turned to Eve:
"_You_ understand. Tell him that if he had been in rags I would have
followed him like a gypsy.... They say there is gypsy blood in us....
God knows.... I think perhaps there is a little of it in all real
women----" Still laughing she placed her hand lightly upon her
heart--"In all women--perhaps--a Flaming Jewel imbedded here----"
Her eyes, tender, and mocking, met his; she lifted the jewel-case,
closed it, and placed it in his hands.
"Now," she said, "you have everything in your possession; and we are
safe--we are quite safe, now, my jewels and I."
Then she went to Eve and rested both hands on her shoulders.
"Shall we put on our snow-shoes and go--home?"
Stormont flung open the bullet-splintered door. Outside in the snow he
dropped on both knees to buckle on Eve's snow-shoes.
Darragh was performing a like office for his wife, and the State
Trooper, being unobserved, took Eve's slim hands and kissed them,
looking up at her where he was kneeling.
Her pale face blushed as it had that day in the woods on Owl Marsh, so
long, so long ago, when this man's lips first touched her hands.
As their eyes met both remembered. Then she smiled at her lover with the
shy girl's soul of her gazing out at him through eyes as blue as the
wild blind-gentians that grow among the ferns and mosses of Star Pond.
* * * * *
Far away in the northwestern forests Quintana still lashed his horses
through the primeval pines.
Triumphant, reckless, resourceful, dangerous, he felt that now nothing
could stop him, nothing bar his way to freedom.
Out of the wilderness lay his road and his destiny; out of it he must
win his way, by strategy, by cunning, by violence--creep out, lie his
way out, shoot his way out--it scarcely mattered. He was going out! He
was going back to life once more. Who could forbid him? Who stop him?
Who deny him, now, when, in his pockets, he held all that was worth
living for--the keys to power, to pleasure,--the key to everything on
earth!
In fierce exultation he slapped the glass jewels in his pocket and
laughed aloud.
"The keys to the world!" he cried. "Let him stop me and take them who is
a better man than I!" Then his long whip whistled and he cursed his
horses.
Then, of a sudden, close by in the snowy road ahead, he saw a State
Trooper on snow-shoes,--saw the upflung arm warning him--screamed curses
at his horses, flogged them forward to crush this thing to death that
dared menace him--this object that suddenly rose up out of nowhere to
snatch from him the keys of the world----
* * * * *
For a moment the State Trooper looked after the runaway horses. There
was no use following; they'd have to run till they dropped.
Then he lowered the levelled rifle from his shoulder, looked grimly at
the limp thing which had tumbled from the sledge into the snowy road and
which sprawled there crimsoning the spotless flakes that fell upon it.