Flamsted quarries Part 29

Old Quimber caught Octavius by the arm to detain him a moment before he himself retraced his steps up street.

"What d'ye think, Tave?--they goin' to make a match on't, she an' Poggi?

I see 'm together a sight."

"You can't tell 'bout Aileen any more'n a weather-c.o.c.k. She might go farther and fare worse."

"Thet's so, Tave; Poggi's a man, an' a credit to our town. I guess from all I hear Romanzo's 'bout give it up, ain't he?"

"Romanzo never had a show with Aileen," Octavius said decidedly; "he ain't her kind."

"Guess you're right, Tave--By A. J. there they go now!" He nudged Octavius with his elbow. Octavius, who had pa.s.sed the shop and was standing on the sidewalk with old Quimber, saw the two leave it and walk slowly in the direction of The Bow. He listened for the sound of Aileen's merry laugh and chat, but he heard nothing. His grave face at once impressed Joel.

"Something's up 'twixt those two, eh, Tave?" he whispered.

Octavius nodded in reply; he was comprehending all that old man's words implied. He bade Quimber good night and walked on to The Greenbush. The Colonel found him more taciturn than usual that evening....

"I can't, Luigi,--I can't marry you," she answered almost irritably. The two were nearing the entrance to Champo; the Italian was pleading his cause. "I can't--so don't say anything more about it."

"But, Aileen, I will wait--I can wait; I've waited so long already. I believe I began to love you through that knothole, you remember?"

"I haven't forgotten;" she half smiled at the remembrance; "but that seems so long ago, and things have changed so--I've changed, Luigi."

The tone of her voice was hard. Luigi looked at her in surprise.

"What has changed you, Aileen? Tell me--can't you trust me?"

"Luigi!"--she faced him suddenly, looking straight up into his handsome face that turned white as he became aware that what she was about to say was final--"I'd give anything if I could say to you what you want me to--you deserve all my love, if I could only give it to you, for you are faithful and true, and mean what you say--it would be the best thing for me, I know; but I can't, Luigi; I've nothing to give, and it would be living a lie to you from morning till night to give you less than you deserve. I only blame myself that I'm not enough like other girls to know a good man when I see him, and take his love with a thankful heart that it's mine--but it's no use--don't blame me for being myself--" Her lips trembled; she bit the lower one white in her effort to steady it.

For a moment Luigi made no reply. Suddenly he leaned towards her--she drew away from him quickly--and said between his teeth, all the long-smouldering fire of southern pa.s.sion, pa.s.sion that is founded on jealousy, glowing in his eyes:

"Tell me, Aileen Armagh, is there another man you love?--tell me--"

Rag who had been with her all the afternoon moved with a quick threatening motion to her side and a warning _gurr--rrrr_ for the one who should dare to touch her.

"No." She spoke defiantly. Luigi straightened himself. Rag sprang upon her fawning and caressing; she shoved him aside roughly, for the dog was at that moment but the scapegoat for his master; Rag cowered at her feet.

"Ah--" It was a long-drawn breath of relief. Luigi Poggi's eyes softened; the fire in them ceased to leap and blaze; something like hope brightened them.

"I could bear anything but that--I was afraid--" He hesitated.

"Afraid of what?" She caught up his words sharply, and began to walk rapidly up the driveway.

He answered slowly: "I was afraid you were in love with Mr. Googe--I saw you once out rowing with him--early one morning--"

"I in love with Mr. Googe!" she echoed scornfully, "you needn't ever be afraid of that; I--I hate him!"

Luigi stared at her in amazement. He scarce could keep pace with her rapid walk that was almost a run. Her cheeks were aflame; her eyes filled with tears. All her pent up wretchedness of the last two months, all her outraged love, her womanhood's humiliation, a sense of life's bitter injustice and of her impotence to avenge the wrong put upon her affections, found vent in these three words. And Luigi, seeing Aileen Armagh changed into something that an hour before he would not have believed possible, was gripped by a sudden fear,--he must know the truth for his own peace of mind,--and, under its influence, he laid his hand on her arm and brought her to a standstill.

Rag snarled another warning; Aileen thrust him aside with her foot.

"What has he done to you to make you hate him so?"

Because he spoke slowly, Aileen thought he was speaking calmly. Had she not been carried away by her own strength of feeling, she would have known that she might not risk the answer she gave him.

"Done to me?--nothing; what could he do?--but I hate him--I never want to see his face again!"

She was beside herself with anger and shame. It was the tone of Luigi's voice that brought her to her senses; in a flash she recalled Octavius Buzzby's warning about playing with "volcanic fires." It was too late, however, to recall her words.

"Luigi, I've said too much; you don't understand--now let's drop it."

She drew away her arm from beneath his hand, and resumed her rapid walk up the driveway, Rag trotting after her.

"And you mean what you say--you never want to see him again?" He spoke again slowly.

"Never," she said firmly.

Luigi made no reply. They were nearing the house. She turned to him when they reached the steps.

"Luigi,"--she put out her hand and he took it in both his,--"forget what I've said about another and forgive me for what I've had to say to yourself--we've always been such good friends, that now--"

She was ready with the smile that captivated him, but it was a tremulous one for she smiled through tears; she was thinking of the contrast.

"And always will be, Aileen, when we both know for good and all that we can be nothing more to each other," he answered gently.

She was grateful to him; but she turned away and went up the steps without saying good-bye.

X

"'Gad, I wish I was well out of it!"

For the first time within the memory of Elmer Wiggins and Lawyer Emlie, who heard the Colonel's e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, his words and tone proclaimed the fact that he was not in his seemingly unfailing good spirits. He was standing with the two at the door of the drug shop and watching the crowds of men gathered in groups along the main street.

It was Sat.u.r.day afternoon and the men were idle, a weekly occurrence the Colonel had learned to dread since his inc.u.mbency as deputy sheriff and, in consequence of his office, felt responsible for the peace of the community at large until Monday morning.

Something unusual was in the air, and the three men were at once aware of it. The uneasiness, that had prevailed in the sheds and at The Gore during the past month, was evidently coming to a crisis now that the men's pay was two weeks overdue.

Emlie looked grave on replying, after a pause in which the three were busy taking note of the constantly increasing crowd in front of the town hall:

"I don't blame you, Colonel; there'll be the deuce to pay if the men don't get paid off by Monday noon. They've been uneasy now so long about the piece work settlement, that this last delay is going to be the match that fires the train--and no slow match either from the looks; I don't understand this delay. When did Romanzo send his last message?"

"About an hour ago, but he hasn't had any answer yet," replied the Colonel, shading his eyes with his hat to look up street at the town hall crowd. "He has been telephoning and telegraphing off and on for the last two weeks; but he can't get any satisfaction--corporations, you know, don't materialize just for the rappings."

"What does Champney say?" inquired Mr. Wiggins.

"State of the market," said the Colonel laconically.

The men did not look at one another, for each was feeling a certain degree of indignation, of humiliation and disappointment that one of their own, Champney Googe, should go back on Flamsted to the extent of allowing the "market" to place the great quarry interests, through non-payment of the workers, in jeopardy.