A Speckled Bird Part 42

At the head of the stairs he put his palm under her elbow to steady her steps, but at the door of the dining-room, where butler and housekeeper waited, he took her fingers in his, led her to the head of the table, and seated her. During breakfast he talked of the garden, of his horses, of some pheasants he knew she would admire, of a tazza on the library mantel she must be sure to examine, and she wondered at the complete control and composure he had attained. Was it merely the _n.o.blesse oblige_ of a courteous host?

After a second cup of coffee, he looked at the clock.

"Hawkins, tell Rivers to bring the dog-cart around. Eglah, come and see Amos Lea's gloxinias."

He put on his hat and light overcoat, and walked beside her to the hothouse.

"I shall be busy in town nearly all day, there are so many last things to be attended to. I had abandoned all idea of joining this expedition, when I received a letter telling me an important member of the party had lost his father, and family interests compelled him to stay at home. The request was urgent that I should cable my acceptance of the invitation, which I did; hence I have had little time for necessary preparation, and some things I am obliged to do this morning. Here comes the cart. We must be at the station by five o'clock this afternoon. Your train southbound starts just ten minutes before mine leaves for New York.

Trunks will be sent in at three o'clock. While I am away in town I should be glad to have you look all over the house. Some of the rooms you have never seen--my laboratory and den. In my bedroom hangs a portrait of my lovely mother, that I particularly desire you to see.

Good-bye."

He raised his hat, sprang into the cart, and was soon out of sight.

Five moments later the keen, solemn eyes of Amos peered at her from behind a cl.u.s.ter of tall palms.

"Why didn't you marry him sooner, and keep him at home?"

"I did not know he was going until the day we were married. I hoped and believed I could induce him to stay, but he had given his word."

"And that word of his he never breaks. Head, heart, purse, maybe will give way, but not the pledged word of old Fergus Herriott's boy. This self-murder that goes on in the name of 'science' is a sin in the nostrils of the Lord, and if only the blear-eyed, spectacled old fools that set up to know more about creation than Moses did, after he went to school to G.o.d for forty days, could swamp themselves under the ice, it would be silly enough, and no matter, but for my lad! Susan and I nursed, rocked him, prayed over his cradle since he was barely one year old, and now for him to be cast out like Jonah for fish bait. If G.o.d had wanted the North Pole handled and strung with flags it would never have been shut up in nights six months long, behind ice high as Ararat and wide as the flood. There will be lonesome days till the lad gets home--and if he never comes back! Where will his dear bones be in the resurrection?"

His bearded chin trembled, and his heavy, s.h.a.ggy white eyebrows met over his nose.

"Mr. Lea, we must not cease to pray. G.o.d needs such n.o.ble men as Mr.

Herriott, and He can protect him from every danger."

"Madam, don't 'mister' me. I am just Amos Lea--Noel's Amos. Study your Bible and you will find out the Lord needs no man; the best of us are but worthless c.u.mberers of the ground."

He drew his sleeve across his eyes and left her.

Up and down the hothouses, through the shrubbery, over the stile, along the curving beach and back to the terrace she wandered, striving in vain to divert her thoughts from one fact that overshadowed everything else--the master was going away that afternoon, and she might never see him again. From public disgrace her father was safe, the crisis of acute terror on his account had pa.s.sed; but now, as the smoke of the battle drifted away, she became dimly conscious that she carried a wound she had not suspected and could not explain. The ache in her heart was unlike any former pain; there was nothing with which to compare it, and she dared not a.n.a.lyze it at present. Through the house she walked aimlessly until she reached the suite of rooms set apart for the master.

In the laboratory she did not linger, but the adjoining apartment she knew must be the "den," from the strong, pervading odor of cigar smoke.

The wainscoting of carved walnut, five feet high, was surmounted by a shelf holding a miscellaneous collection of whips, pipes, geological specimens, flints from Indian mounds, a hemat.i.te hatchet, a copper maul, a jade adze. In one corner of the room stood a totem pole with a brooding owl; in another a "kahili" of white feathers, with richly inlaid handle; and upon the wall above the shelf, suspended by heavy silk cords, a gold-colored "ahulla." Two trunks strapped and ready for removal had been drawn to the middle of the apartment. On one lay a heavy overcoat fur lined, and a fine field gla.s.s in a leather shield; on the other a gun case and box of instruments.

She sat down in a deep morocco cushioned chair, from the bra.s.s k.n.o.b of which hung a somewhat faded silk smoking jacket lined with quilted orange satin, and looked up at the steel engravings, the etchings, the water colors on the wall; at some marble and bronze busts on the mantel shelf, and on the top of a teak cabinet filled with curios from Crete, Uxmal, Labna, and the Mancos Canon.

Over the writing desk and a neighboring table were strewn scientific journals, and on a sheet of paper that had fluttered to the floor on its way to the over-laden waste basket, bold headlines had been written by Mr. Herriott:

"First--Were the cliff-dwellers of Asiatic origin?

"Second--Are the Eskimos survivors of pre-glacial man who dwelt within the Arctic circle when its fauna and flora, under similar climatic conditions, corresponded with those now existing in Virginia and Maryland?

"Third--Are kames and drumlins infallible index fingers?"

Whether the page contained notes from some book that he wished to controvert, or his own views jotted down for future elaboration, she could not determine; but as she stooped to pick up and preserve it, a growl startled her, and around the corner of the desk she saw the red eyes of Tzar. She spoke to him, but he rose, showed his fangs, and stalked out of the room, the bristles stiff on his dun-colored back. How long she sat, plunged in painful, perplexed revery, she never knew; but finally she went to the open door of the bedroom, and leaned against the facing, unwilling to enter. Over the low, carved chimney-piece hung the portrait of Mrs. Herriott, a very beautiful young woman in black velvet and pearls, and the perfect features, the poise of head, the silky black hair, and especially the fine moulding of brow she gave to her son, though unlike his her soft, tender eyes matched her hair in color.

Below the portrait a silver frame held a photograph of Eglah in evening dress, taken in Washington; beside it another, wearing her college cap and gown. On the dressing table a glittering circle arrested her attention. Swiftly she entered, crossed the room, and leaned over it. An exquisitely painted miniature of herself, set with diamonds, and resting on a carved ivory easel, looked up at her. Two discarded photographs of Mr. Herriott lay with some torn letters under a neighboring chair. She s.n.a.t.c.hed one and hurried away, fearing to trust herself; but pa.s.sing the smoking jacket she caught it up, folded it under her arm, and escaped to her room.

Exchanging her trailing morning gown of cream silk for the travelling suit, she packed her trunk, hiding jacket and photograph beneath the tray, locked it, and sat down to wait. In the wreck of her overturned altar and shattered filial ideals, beyond and above the desolation of her cruel disenchantment, rose one image inflexible, incorruptible, absolutely invulnerable to temptation, that involved sacrifice of duty.

As the mist cleared, strange new valuations loomed, and she thought of lines that limned his portrait:

"Loyalty is still the same, Whether it win or lose the game."

For years he had been entirely hers. Now she lost him hopelessly. His contempt could spare no room for pity; her presence infuriated him.

He had lifted her to a sacred niche where love and reverence jealously guarded her, and she had hurled herself down into the mire of the market place.

"For sale! Any man could have bought you, body and soul."

The words branded her. They seemed burned in by the scorn flaming in his eyes, and she thought of the red letter on Hester Prynne's breast. The world should never know, but she would carry that scar to her grave.

Soon the clock struck three, and simultaneously the outcry of the dogs announced their master's return. Hat and gloves in hand, Eglah went down to the drawing-room, and caught a glimpse of Mr. Herriott hurrying toward the gardener's cottage. Later he went to his own rooms, and when dinner was announced apologized for unavoidable delay.

He had reined himself in with a grip so tight that the only evidence of suppressed excitement was the feverish, steady gleam in his eyes. He talked of Mrs. St. Clair, of Father Temple, of Trix Stapleton, whom he should see for a moment in New York.

During a brief lull in the conversation, Eglah said:

"I found your mother's portrait, which you asked me to look at. In an extraordinary degree you resemble her."

"Thank you. That is a compliment I value. It is indeed a pity she could not have endowed me with the patience and amiability that so endeared her to all who knew her."

Very soon the moment came for parting words, and she went down to the carriage step, leaving him with the servants cl.u.s.tered in the hall, but Amos Lea was not visible. Mr. Herriott handed Eglah to the back seat, and for a moment stooped to speak to and pat the head of each dog. As he entered the carriage and seated himself opposite his companion, slamming the door as signal to the coachman, the housemaid threw up her hands and ran down the steps.

"Please, sir, Mr. Herriott, may I speak to you?"

He put out his head.

"What is the matter?"

"The silk jacket, sir. You told me to carry it to Mr. Lea, but, sir, I can't find it. You must have put it in your trunk."

"No, I wore it this morning after the trunks were locked and strapped."

"Indeed, sir, I have searched your rooms most faithful, and that jacket is not there."

"You will find it somewhere in the den. Good-bye, Della. Drive on, Rivers."

The house fronted the lake, and the carriage road at the rear wound through thick shrubbery, groups of deodars, and a lane of lilacs in full bloom. The iron gates were open, and against one marble pillar Amos Lea leaned. As the horses dashed through, he motioned to the driver. At sight of him Mr. Herriott's face changed, softened; he sprang out and walked back a few yards.

Through a gla.s.s in the curtain Eglah saw the old man's brawny hands laid on Mr. Herriott's shoulders, and the harsh voice shook.

"Oh, lad! May the Lord bless you and keep you in the hollow of His hand, and bring your body safely back, and save your dear soul from the snares of the unG.o.dly that go down to the icy sea in ships. Wherever you wander Susan's eyes will follow you until you reach that rest where there is no more night."

"It hurts me sorely to say good-bye to you, Amos. For my sake take extra care of yourself. Let up on moles and slugs and s...o...b..gs in damp weather. Look after my dogs for me, and be good to Aunt Trina when she comes for her visit. One thing more, be sure the tower lamp is lighted every night. When I am groping and stumbling in Arctic darkness, it will cheer me to know that light is shining over a black, stormy lake. Now I must go. I hope G.o.d will keep you strong and well. Good-bye."

Then the voice sank so low a few additional words were inaudible to those beyond the gate. He took the gardener's hands, shook them warmly, and re-entered the carriage. As he did so Eglah pointed to the seat beside her, which he accepted, and she saw his eyes were misty.

For some moments neither spoke.