Greatheart Part 65

"And it's the innocent lamb that ye are entirely, Miss Dinah dear," she said.

With which enigmatical answer Dinah was forced to be content.

CHAPTER IX

THE BURDEN

Sir Eustace was standing by the window of the little boudoir when his brother entered, and Scott joined him there. He also lighted a cigarette, and they smoked together in silence for several seconds.

Finally Eustace turned with his faint, supercilious smile. "What's the matter, Stumpy? Something on your mind?"

Scott met his look. "Something I've got to say to you anyway, old chap, that rather sticks in my gullet."

Sir Eustace laughed. "You carry conscience enough for the two of us. What is it? Fire away!"

Scott puffed at his cigarette. "You won't like it," he observed. "But it's got to be said. Look here, Eustace! It's all very well to be in love. But you're carrying it too far. The child's downright afraid of you."

"Has she told you so?" demanded Eustace. A hot gleam suddenly shone in his blue eyes. He looked down at Scott with a frown.

Scott shook his head. "If she had, I shouldn't tell you so. But the fact remains. You're a bit of an ogre, you know, always have been. Slack off a bit, there's a good fellow! You'll find it's worth it."

He spoke with the utmost gentleness, but there was determination in his quiet eyes. Having spoken, he turned them upon the garden again and resumed his cigarette.

There fell a brief silence between them. Sir Eustace was no longer smoking. His frown had deepened. Suddenly he laid his hand upon Scott's shoulder.

"It's my turn now," he said. "I've something to say to you."

"Well?" said Scott. He stiffened a little at the hold upon him, but he did not attempt to frustrate it.

"Only this." Eustace pressed upon him as one who would convey a warning.

"You've interfered with me more than once lately, and I've borne with it--more or less patiently. But I'm not going to bear with it much longer. You may be useful to me, but--you're not indispensable. Remember that!"

Scott started at the words, as a well-bred horse starts at the flicker of the whip. He controlled himself instantly, but his eyelids quivered a little as he answered, "I will remember it."

Sir Eustace's hand fell. "I think that is all that need be said," he observed. "We will get to business."

He turned from the window, but in the same moment Scott wheeled also and took him by the arm. "One moment!" he said. "Eustace, we are not going to quarrel over this. You don't imagine, do you, that I interfere with you in this way for my own pleasure?"

He spoke urgently, an odd wistfulness in voice and gesture.

Sir Eustace paused. The sternness still lingered in his eyes though his face softened somewhat as he said, "I haven't gone into the question of motives, Stumpy. I have no doubt they are--like yourself--very worthy, though it might not soothe me greatly to know what they are."

Scott still held his arm. "Oh, man," he said very earnestly, "don't miss the best thing in life for want of a little patience! She's such a child.

She doesn't understand. For your own sake give her time!"

There was that in his tone that somehow made further offence impossible.

A faint, half-grudging smile took the place of the grimness on his brother's face.

"You take things so mighty seriously," he said. "What's the matter? What has she been saying?"

Scott hesitated. "I can't tell you that. I imagine it is more what she doesn't say that makes me realize the state of her mind. I can tell you one thing. She would rather go shopping with Isabel to-morrow than picnicking in the wilderness with you, and if you're wise, you'll give in and let her go. You'll run a very grave risk of losing her altogether if you ask too much."

"What do you mean?" Eustace's voice was short and stern; the question was like a sword thrust.

Again Scott hesitated. Then very steadily he made reply. "I mean that--with or without reason, you know best--she is beginning not to trust you. It is more than mere shyness with her. She is genuinely frightened."

His words went into silence, and in the silence he took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. It had been a more difficult interview for him than Eustace would ever realize. His powers of endurance were considerable, but he had an almost desperate desire now to escape.

But some instinct kept him where he was. To fail at the last moment for lack of perseverance would have been utterly uncharacteristic of him. It was his custom to stand his ground to the last, whatever the cost.

And so he forced himself to wait while his brother contemplated the unpleasant truth that he had imparted. He knew that it was not in his nature to spend long over the process, but he was still by no means sure of the final result.

Eustace spoke at length very suddenly. "See here, Stumpy!" he said.

"There may be something in what you say, and there may not. But in any case, you and Dinah are getting altogether too intimate and confidential to please me. It's up to you to put the brake on a bit. Understand?"

He smiled as he said it, but there was a gleam as of cold steel behind his smile.

Scott straightened himself. It was as if something within him leapt to meet the steel. Spent though he was, this was a matter no man could shirk.

"I shall do nothing of the kind," he said. "Do you think I'd destroy her trust in me too? I'd sell my soul sooner."

The words were pa.s.sionate, and the man as he uttered them seemed suddenly galvanized with a new force, a force irresistible, elemental, even sublime. The elder brother's brows went up in amazement. He did not know Stumpy in that mood. He found himself confronted with a power colossal manifested in the meagre frame, and before that power instinctively, wholly involuntarily, he gave ground.

"I see you mean to please yourself," he said, and turned to go with a sub-conscious feeling that if he lingered he would have the worst of it.

"But I warn you if you get in my way, you'll be kicked. So look out!"

It was not a conciliatory speech, but it was the outcome of undoubted discomfiture. He was so accustomed to submission from Scott that he had come to look upon it as inevitable. His sudden self-a.s.sertion was oddly disconcerting.

So also was the laugh that followed his threat, a careless laugh wholly devoid of bitterness which yet in some fashion inexplicable pierced his armour, making him feel ashamed.

"You know exactly what I think of that sort of thing, don't you?" Scott said. "That's the best of having no special physical attractions. One doesn't need to think of appearances."

Sir Eustace made no rejoinder. He could think of nothing to say; for he knew that Scott's att.i.tude was absolutely sincere. For physical suffering he cared not one jot. The indomitable spirit of the man lifted him above it. He was fashioned upon the same lines as the men who faced the lions of Rome. No bodily pain could ever daunt him.

He went from the room haughtily but in his heart he carried an odd misgiving that burned and spread like a slow fire, consuming his pride.

Scott had withstood him, Scott the weakling, and in so doing had made him aware of a strength that exceeded his own.

As for Scott, the moment he was alone he drew a great breath of relief, and almost immediately after opened the French window and pa.s.sed quietly out into the garden.

The dusk was falling, and the air smote chill; yet he moved slowly forth, closing the window behind him and so down into the desolate shrubberies where he paced for a long, long time....

When he went to Isabel's room more than an hour later, his eyes were heavy with weariness, and he moved like a man who bears a burden.

She was alone, and looked up at his entrance with a smile of welcome.

"Come and sit down, Stumpy! I've seen nothing of you. Dinah has only just left me. She tells me Eustace is talking of a picnic for to-morrow, but really she ought to give her mind to her trousseau if she is ever to be ready in time. Do you think Eustace can be induced to see reason?"