THE FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES
She had expected the probability of such a happening, yet her face
perceptibly paled while perusing the brief note handed her by the stage
manager upon coming forth from her dressing-room. Her first impulse
was to refuse compliance, to trust fortune in an endeavor to keep
beyond reach, to turn and run from this new, threatening danger like a
frightened deer. But she recalled the financial necessity which held
her yet a prisoner at the Gayety. This writer was partner in the
gambling rooms, possibly in the theatre also; her chance for escaping
him would be very slender. Besides, it might be far better to face the
man boldly and have it over. Undoubtedly a meeting must occur some
time; as well now as later so that the haunting shadow would not remain
ever before her. The color stole slowly back into her cheeks as she
stood twisting the paper between her fingers, her eyes darkening with
returning courage.
"Where is the gentleman, Ben?" she asked, steadying herself slightly
against a fly.
"First box, Miss; right through that narrow door, yonder," and the man
smiled, supposing he understood. "Very convenient arrangement for the
stage ladies."
She paused, her hand resting upon the latch, in a final effort to quiet
her rapid breathing and gain firmer control over her nerves. This was
to be a struggle for which she must steel herself. She stepped quietly
within, and stood, silent and motionless, amid the shadows of the drawn
curtains, gazing directly at the sole occupant of the box, her dark
eyes filled with contemptuous defiance. Farnham lounged in the second
chair, leaning back in affected carelessness with one arm resting
negligently upon the railing, but there came into his pale face a
sudden glow of appreciation as he swept his cool eyes over the trim
figure, the flushed countenance there confronting him. A realization
of her fresh womanly fairness came over him with such suddenness as to
cause the man to draw his breath quickly, his eyes darkening with
passion.
"By thunder, Lizzie, but you are actually developing into quite a
beauty!" he exclaimed with almost brutal frankness. "Life on the stage
appears to agree with you; or was it joy at getting rid of me?"
She did not move from where she had taken her first stand against the
background of curtains, nor did the expression upon her face change.
"I presume you did not send for me merely for the purpose of
compliment," she remarked, quietly.
"Well, no; not exactly," and the man laughed with assumed recklessness
in an evident effort to appear perfectly at ease. "I was simply
carried away by the enthusiasm of the moment. I was always, as you
will remember, something of a connoisseur regarding the charms of the
sex, and you have certainly improved wonderfully. Why, I actually
believe I might fall in love with you again if I were to receive the
slightest encouragement."
"I do not think I am offering you any."
"Hardly; even my egotism will not permit me to believe so. An iceberg
would seem warm in comparison. Yet, at least, there is no present
occasion for our quarrelling. Sit down."
"Thank you, I prefer to remain standing. I presume whatever you may
desire to say will not require much time?"
Farnham leaned forward, decidedly jarred from out his assumed mood of
cold sarcasm. He had expected something different, and his face
hardened with definite purpose.
"That depends," he said soberly, "on your frame of mind. You do not
appear extremely delighted to meet me again. Considering that it is
now fully three years since our last conversation, you might strive to
be, at least outwardly, cordial."
She gathered up her skirts within her left hand, and turned calmly
toward the door.
"Is that all?"
The man leaped impulsively to his feet, his cheeks burning with sudden
animation, his previous mask of reckless indifference entirely torn
away.
"Hell, no!" he exclaimed warmly, as instantly pausing when she wheeled
swiftly about and faced him firmly. "No, it is not all. Of course, I
had a special purpose in sending for you. Yet I cannot help feeling a
natural curiosity. Tell me, what are you doing here?"
"That is quite easily seen; I am endeavoring to earn a living."
"A nice, quiet, respectable sort of a place you have chosen, certainly.
It is about the last spot I should ever have expected to discover you
in, knowing as I do your former puritanical morals. Your tastes must
have greatly changed under the spur," and he laughed lightly, in
mockery.
Miss Norvell's lips curled in unconcealed contempt, her eyes darkening
with indignation.
"My present associations were not entered into from choice but from
necessity. With you, I understand, it is deliberate choice."
The man stood undecided, fingering the edge of the curtain, vaguely
realizing that he was merely injuring his own cause by continuing to
anger her, yet far too deeply hit to remain entirely silent.
"You seem inclined to strike out as hard as ever," he retorted, yet in
tones of manifest regret. "But just now there is not the slightest
occasion for any bitterness. I am perfectly prepared to do the square
thing, and if we can only pull together pleasantly for a little while,
it will prove far better for both of us."
"In plainer words, you chance just now to have some special use for me?"
"Well, I hope you will look at the situation from my viewpoint. But
the actual truth is, that when I first came up here to-night, I had not
the faintest suspicion that it was you I was seeking."
"No?" doubtfully.
"That is an actual fact, Lizzie. I did n't suppose you were within a
thousand miles of this place," and Farnham quietly settled himself
again in his chair. "I came up here merely intending to get a glimpse
of an actress named Beth Norvell. I was never more thoroughly
surprised in my life than when you first came out on the stage. For a
moment it knocked me silly. Say, you're an artist all right, my girl.
That was a great stunt. Why, those boys down below hardly breathed
until you disappeared. You ought to get a chance in Chicago; you 'd be
wearing diamonds. Damned if I was n't honestly proud of you myself."
The girl caught her breath sharply, her hand pressed tightly against
her side.
"What--what was it you desired of Beth Norvell?" she questioned.
Farnham's white teeth gleamed in a sudden smile of appreciation.
"Hope you are not becoming jealous," he said insinuatingly.
"Positively no occasion, I assure you, for it was not to make love to
the girl, I wanted to see her. Lord, no! This was purely a business
deal. The truth is, I chanced to hear she had a lover already, and he
was the fellow I was really after."
"A lover?" she stepped toward him, her eyes blazing, her cheeks aflame.
"I? How dare you? What can you mean by so false an insinuation?"
"Oh, don't flare up so, Lizzie," and the complacent gambler looked at
her with eyes not entirely devoid of admiration. "It really makes you
prettier than ever, but that sort of thing cuts no ice with me.
However, what I have just said stands: the story flying around here is
that you have captured old Winston's boy, and a damned good catch it
is, too."
She went instantly white as a sheet, her body trembling like an aspen,
her quivering lips faltering forth words she could not wholly restrain.
"The story, you say--the story! Do--do you believe that of me?"
"Oh, that does n't make any difference," the brute in him frankly
enjoying her evident pain. "Lord, what do you care about my belief?
That was all passed and over with long ago. All I know is, the fellow
is gone on you, all right. Why, he pulled a gun on me last night
merely because I chanced to mention your name in his presence."
The telltale color swept back into her cheeks in swift wave. For an
instant her eyes wavered, then came back to the man's sneering face.
"Did--did you dare tell him?"
He laughed lightly, softly patting his hand on the railing, his own
eyes partially veiled by lowered lids.
"Torn off the mask of unimpeachable virtue, have I?" he chuckled, well
pleased. "Rather prefer not to have our late affair blowed to this
particular young man, hey? Well, I suspected as much; and really,
Lizzie, you ought to know I am not that sort of a cur. I 've held my
tongue all right so far, and consequently I expect you to do me a good
deed in return. That's a fair enough proposition, is n't it?"
She did not immediately answer, gazing upon him as she might at some
foul snake which had fascinated her, her breath coming in half-stifled
sobs, her hand clutching the heavy curtain for support.
"Oh, good God!" she faltered at last, speaking as though half dazed.
"You must possess the spirit of a demon. Why do you continue to
torture me so? You have no right--no right; you forfeited all you ever
possessed years ago. Under Heaven, I am nothing to you; and in your
heart you know I have done nothing wrong, nothing to awaken even the
foul suspicions of jealousy. Mr. Winston has been my friend, yet even
that friendship--innocent and unsullied--is already past; we have
parted for all time."
"Indeed! You are such a consummate actress, Lizzie, I scarcely know
what really to believe. Probably, then, you no longer object to my
telling the gentleman the story?"
Her lips closed firmly.
"I shall tell him myself."
"Oh! Then, after all your fine words of renunciation, you will see him
again! Your reform is soon ended. Well, my girl, there is really no
necessity for any such sacrifice on your part. No one here suspects
anything regarding our little affair excepting you and me. You do what
I desire with this Winston, and I 'm mum. What do you say?"
She sank back into a chair, utterly unable to stand longer, hiding her
face in her hands.
"What--what is it you wish?" she questioned wearily.
He leaned forward and placed his hand, almost in caress, upon her
skirt, but she drew the cloth hastily away, a sudden sob shaking her
voice.
"Oh, please, don't touch me! I cannot stand it--only tell me what it
is you wish."
"I want you to exercise your influence over that fellow, and prevent
his taking professional employment at the 'Little Yankee' mine."
"Why?" she lifted her head again, facing him with questioning eyes.
"Simply because his doing so will interfere seriously with some of my
business plans--that's all."
"Then why don't you act the part of a man, and go to him yourself?
Why, in this, do you prefer hiding behind the skirts of a woman?"
Farnham laughed grimly, in no way embarrassed by the query.
"Good Lord, Lizzie! I 've been to him, all right, but the fellow is
like a stubborn mule. He has n't got but one selling-out price, so far
as I can learn, and that chances to be Beth Norvell. You see the
point? Well, that's exactly why I came here to-night. I wanted to be
able to tender him the goods."
For a moment her eyes remained pitifully pleading; then they suddenly
appeared to harden into resolute defiance. As though moving in a
dream, she arose slowly to her feet, taking a single step away from him
toward the closed door.
"As I have already explained," she paused to say coldly, "Mr. Winston
is no more to me than any other gentleman whom I may have chanced to
meet in friendship. I have not the faintest reason to suppose I could
influence his decision in any matter appertaining to his professional
work. Moreover, I have not the slightest inclination to try."
"Do you dare refuse, in spite of all I can say to your injury?" he
asked, even then doubtful of her meaning.
"I definitely decline to be your catspaw,--yes. Nothing you can relate
truthfully will ever harm me in the estimation of a gentleman, and I
shall certainly know how to combat falsehood."
"Quite pretty. Injured innocence, I perceive, is to be the line of
defence. What! are you already going?"
"I am."
"Where?"
She turned again, standing erect, her face flushing, her hand upon the
latch of the door.
"If it is imperative that you know, I will tell you. I intend seeking
Mr. Winston, and informing him exactly who and what I am."
"Now? at this hour of the night?"
"Better now, and at this hour of the night, than venture waiting until
after you have had an inning. I am not at all ashamed to confess the
truth, if I can only be the first to tell my story."
She pressed the latch of the door, her breathing so rapid as to be
positively painful. With an ill-repressed oath, Farnham sprang to his
feet, his rising anger putting an end to all prudence.
"Wait!" he exclaimed gruffly. "Wait where you are until I am done.
You have heard only a part of this thing so far. My God, girl! don't
you know me well enough by this time to comprehend that I always have
my way, whatever the cost may be to others? Lord! what do I care for
this fellow? or, for the matter of that, what do I care for you? I
don't permit people to stand in my path; and I supposed you had
thoroughly learned that lesson, if no other. Faith, you had cause
enough, surely. So you refuse all endeavor to keep Winston out of this
affair, do you? Perhaps you had better pause a minute, and remember
who it is you are dealing with. I reckon you never saw any signs of
the quitter about me. Now, it 's true I 'd rather have you do this
business up quietly; but if you refuse, don't forget there are other
means fully as effective, and a damn sight quicker." He reached out
suddenly, grasping her hand. "Did you ever hear the adage, 'Dead men
tell no tales'?" he questioned savagely.
She drew her hand sharply back from its instant of imprisonment, with a
smothered cry, her eyes filled with undisguised horror.
"You threaten--you threaten murder?"
"Oh, we never use that word out in this country--it is considered far
too coarse, my dear," and Farnham's thin lips curled sardonically. "We
merely 'silence' our enemies in Colorado. It is an extremely simple
matter; nothing at all disagreeable or boorish about it, I can assure
you. A stick of dynamite dropped quietly down a shaft-hole, or pushed
beneath a bunk house--that's all. The coroner calls it an accident;
the preachers, a dispensation of Providence; while the fellows who
really know never come back to tell. If merely one is desired, a
well-directed shot from out a cedar thicket affords a most gentlemanly
way of shuffling off this mortal coil."
"You would not! You dare not!"
"I? Why, such a thought is preposterous, of course, for the risk would
be entirely unnecessary. Quite evidently you are not well acquainted
with one of the flourishing industries of this section, my dear. There
are always plenty of men out of a job in this camp; conscience does n't
come high, and the present market price for that sort of work is only
about twenty-five dollars a head. Not unreasonable, all things
considered, is it?"
If she had not thoroughly known this man, had not previously sounded
his depths, she might have doubted his meaning, deceived by the lazy
drawl in his soft voice, the glimmer of grim humor in his eyes. But
she did know him; she comprehended fully the slumbering tiger within,
the lurking spirit of vindictiveness of his real nature, and that
knowledge overcame her, left her weak and trembling like a frightened
child. For an instant she could not articulate, staring at him with
white face and horrified eyes.
"You--you mean that?" and for the first time she clasped his loose coat
between her clutching fingers.
"It is hardly a subject to be deliberately selected for jest," he
replied coolly, "but if you prefer you might wait and see."
She stepped back from him, leaning heavily against the frame of the
door, her face again hidden behind uplifted hands. The man did not
move, his face emotionless, his lips tightly set. He was watching her
with the intentness of a hawk, absolutely certain now of his victim.
Suddenly she looked up, her eyes picturing the courage of desperation.
One glance into his face and the woman stood transformed, at bay, the
fierce spirit of battle flaming into her face.
"Have it so, then," she exclaimed sharply. "I pledge myself to do
everything possible to prevent his remaining here." She drew herself
up, her eyes darkening from sudden, uncontrollable anger. "Oh, how I
despise you, you coward, you cur! I know you, what you are capable of,
and I do this to preserve the life of a friend; but my detestation of
you is beyond expression in words. My one and greatest shame is that I
ever trusted you; that I once believed you to be a man. Good God! how
could I ever have been so blind!"
She opened the door with her hand extended behind her, and backed
slowly away, facing him where he stood motionless, smiling still as
though her sudden outburst of passion merely served to feed his conceit.
"Then I may trust you in this?"
Her eyes shone fairly black with the depth of scorn glowing in them.
"Have--have you ever known me to lie?" she asked, her voice faltering
from reaction.
The door closed.