Galusha the Magnificent Part 74

Galusha did not answer. He regarded his relative vacantly, opened his mouth, closed it, sighed and turned toward the dining room. By this time most of the congregation were already in the yard and, as Cabot and his companion emerged into the dripping blackness of out-of-doors, from various parts of that blackness came the clatter of tongues and the sound of fervent e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns and expressions of amazement.

"Well! WELL! Don't talk to ME! If this don't beat all ever _I_ see!..."

"I should say it did! I was just sayin' to Sarah B., s' I, 'My soul and body,' s' I, 'if this ain't--'"... "And what do you s'pose made him--"

"And when they turned up them lights and I see him standin' there jammin' her down into that chair and wavin' that big fist of his over top her head, thinks I, 'Good-NIGHT! He's goin' to hammer her right down through into the cellar, don't know's he ain't!'"

These were a few fragments which Cousin Gussie caught as they pushed their way to the gate. In one spot where a beam of light from the window faintly illuminated the wet, he glimpsed a flowered and fruited hat picturesquely draped over its wearer's ear while from beneath its lopsided elegance a tearful voice was heard hysterically demanding to be taken home. "Take me home, 'Phelia. I--I--I... Oh, take me home!

I--I--I've forgot my rubbers and--and I feel's if my hair was comin'

off--down, I mean--but--oh, I don't CARE, take me HOME!"

Galusha, apparently, heard and saw nothing of this. He blundered straight on to the gate and thence along the road to the Phipps'

cottage. It seemed to Cabot that he found it by instinct, for the fog was so thick that even the lighted windows could not be seen further than a few yards. But he did find it and, at last, the two men stood together in the little sitting room. Then Cousin Gussie once more laid a hand on his relative's arm.

"Well, Galusha," he said, again, "what about it?"

Galusha heaved another sigh. "Yes--ah--yes," he answered.

"Yes--ah--quite so."

"Humph! What is quite so? I want to know about that stock of the Wellmouth Development Company."

"Yes.... Yes, certainly, I know."

"That Captain--um--What's-his-name, the picturesque old lunatic with the whiskers--Hallett, I mean--made a statement that was, to say the least, surprising. I presume he was crazy. That was the most weird collection of insanity that I ever saw or heard. Ha, ha! Oh, dear!... Well, never mind. But what did old Hallett mean by saying he had sold YOU his four hundred shares of that stock?"

Galusha closed his eyes. He smiled sadly.

"He meant that he had--ah--sold them to me," he answered.

"LOOSH!"

"Yes."

"Loosh, are you crazy, too?"

"Very likely. I often think I may be. Yes, I bought the--ah--stock."

"You bought the--YOU? Loosh, sit down."

Mr. Bangs shook his head. "No, Cousin Gussie," he said. "If you don't mind I--I won't sit down. I shall go to my room soon. I bought Captain Hallett's stock. I bought Miss Phipps', too."

It was Cabot himself who sat down. He stared, slowly shook his head, and then uttered a fervent, "Whew!"

Galusha nodded. "Yes," he observed. "Ah--yes."

"Loosh, do you know what you are saying? Do you mean that you actually bought Hallett's four hundred shares and this woman's--?"

"Miss Phipps is her name. Miss Martha Phipps."

"Yes, yes, of course. And you bought... Eh? By Jove! Is THAT what you did with that thirteen thousand dollars?"

Again Galusha nodded. "Yes," he said.

Cousin Gussie whistled again. "But why did you do it, Loosh?" he asked, after a moment. "For heaven's sake, WHY?"

Galusha did not answer immediately. Then he said, slowly: "If--if you don't mind, Cousin Gussie, I think I should tell HER that first. That is, I mean she should--ah--be here when I do tell it.... I--I think I will change my mind and sit down and wait until she comes.... Perhaps.

you will wait, too--if you don't mind.... And, please--please don't think me rude if I do not--ah--talk. I do not feel--ah--conversational.

Dear me, no."

He sat down. Cabot stared at him, crossed his knees, and continued to stare. Occasionally he shook his head, as if the riddle were proving too much for him. Galusha did not move. Neither man spoke. The old clock ticked off the minutes.

Primmie came home first. "Miss Martha said to tell you she would be over in a few minutes," she announced. "Cap'n Jeth, he's a-comin' around all right, so Miss Martha and Zach and them think. But, my savin' soul, how he does hang onto Lulie! Keeps a-sayin' she's all he's got that's true and honest and--and all that sort of talk. Give me the crawlin' creeps to hear him. And after that seance thing, too! When that everlastin'

foghorn bust loose the first time, I cal'lated--"

Galusha interrupted. "Primmie," he suggested, gravely, "would you--will you be--ah--kind enough to go into the kitchen?"

"Hey? Go into the kitchen? Course I will. What do you want in the kitchen, Mr. Bangs?"

He regarded her solemnly. "I should like to have you there, if you don't mind," he observed. "This gentleman and I are--we would prefer to be alone. I'm very sorry, but you must excuse me this time and--ah--go."

"Go? You want me to go out and--and not stay here?"

"Yes. Yes--ah--quite so, Primmie. Ah--good-night."

Primmie departed, slamming the door and muttering indignation. Galusha sighed once more. Then he relapsed into silence.

Twenty minutes later Martha herself came in. They heard her enter the dining room, then Primmie's voice in resentful explanation. When Miss Phipps did come into the sitting room, she was smiling slightly.

"Primmie's heart is broken," she observed. "Oh, don't worry, it isn't a very serious break. She hasn't had so much to talk about for goodness knows when and yet n.o.body wants to listen to her. I told her to tell Luce about it, but that didn't seem to soothe her much. Luce is Lucy Larcom, Mr. Cabot," she explained. "He is our cat."

Cousin Gussie, already a much bewildered man, looked even more bewildered, but Martha did not observe his condition. She turned to his companion.

"Mr. Bangs," she said, "it's all right. Or goin' to be all right, I'm sure. Cap'n Jeth is takin' the whole thing a good deal better than I was afraid there at first. He is dreadfully shaken, poor man, and he seems to feel as if the last plank had foundered from beneath him, as father used to say; but, if it doesn't have any worse effect than that, I shall declare the whole business a mercy and a miracle. If it has the effect of curin' him of the Marietta Hoag kind of spiritualism--and it really looks like a cure--then it will be worth all the scare it gave us. At first all he would say was that everything was a fraud and a cheat, that his faith had been taken away, there was nothin' left--nothin'. But Lulie, bless her heart, was a brave girl and a dear one. She said, 'I am left, father. You've got me, you know.' And he turned to her and clung to her as if she was his only real sheet anchor. As, of course, she is, and would have been always if he hadn't gone adrift after Little Cherry Blossom and such rubbish. Mr. Bangs, I--"

She paused. She looked first at Galusha and then at the Boston banker.

Her tone changed.

"Why, what is it?" she asked, quickly. "What is the matter?... Mr.

Bangs--"

Galusha had risen when she entered. He was pale, but resolute.

"Miss Phipps," he began, "I--I have been waiting to--to say something to you. I--ah--yes, to say something. Yes, Miss Phipps."

It was the first time he had addressed her as "Miss Phipps" for many months. He had, ever since she granted him permission and urged him to drop formality, addressed her as Miss Martha and seemed to take pride in that permission and to consider it an honor. Now the very fact of his returning to the old manner was, although she did not yet realize it, an indication that he considered his right to her friendship forfeited.

"Miss Phipps," he began once more, "I--I wish to make a confession, a humiliating confession. I shall not ask you to forgive me. I realize that what I have done is quite beyond pardon."

He stopped again; the road was a hard one to travel. Martha gazed at him, aghast and uncomprehending. Cabot, understanding but little more, shrugged his shoulders.