Molly McDonald Part 17

"Then he lied."

She shrugged her white shoulders.

"That would not surprise me in the least. 'T was a characteristic of the man you had ample reason to know. How came you to believe so easily?"

"Believe? What else could I believe? Everything served to substantiate his boast. I was in disgrace, practically drummed out of camp. There was nothing left for me to live for, or strive after. I was practically dead. Then your letter confessing came--"

"Wait," she interrupted, "that letter was untrue, false; it was penned under compulsion. I wrote you again, later, but you had gone, disappeared utterly. I wanted to explain, but your own people even did not know where you were--do not know yet."

He leaned his body against the rail, and looked at her in the dim light. Her face retained much of its girlish attractiveness, yet its undoubted charms no longer held the man captive. He smiled coldly.

"The explanation comes somewhat late," he replied deliberately. "When it might have served me it was not offered--indeed, you had conveniently disappeared. But I am not here to criticise; that is all over with, practically forgotten. I came at your request, and presume you had a reason. May I again ask what it was?"

CHAPTER XVII

AT CROSS-PURPOSES

She sat for a moment silent, gazing up the street, but breathing heavily. This was not the reception she had antic.i.p.ated, and it was difficult to determine swiftly what course she had best pursue.

Realizing the hold she had once had upon this man, it had never occurred to her mind that her influence had altogether departed. Her beauty had never failed before to win such victory, and she had trusted now in reviving the old smouldering pa.s.sion into sudden flame. Yet already she comprehended the utter uselessness of such an expectation--there was no smouldering pa.s.sion to be fanned; his indifference was not a.s.sumed. The discovery angered her, but long experience had brought control; it required only a moment to readjust her faculties, to keep the bitterness out of her voice. When she again faced him it was to speak quietly, with convincing earnestness.

"Yes, I realize it is too late for explanations," she acknowledged, "so I will attempt none. I wished you to know, however, that I did not desert you for that man. This was my princ.i.p.al purpose in sending for you."

"Do you know where he is?"

She hesitated ever so slightly, yet he, watching her closely, noted it.

"No; at the close of the war he came home, commanding the regiment which should have been yours. Within three months he had converted all the family property into cash and departed. There was a rumor that he was engaged in the cattle business."

"You actually expect me to believe all this--that you knew nothing of his plans--were not, indeed, a part of them?"

"I am indifferent as to what you believe," she replied coldly. "But you are ungentlemanly to express yourself so freely. Why should you say that?"

"Because I chance to know more than you suppose. Never mind how the information reached me; had it been less authentic you might find me now more susceptible to your presence, more choice in my language. A carefully conceived plot drove me from the Confederate service, in which you were as deeply involved as Le Fevre. Its double object was to advance him in rank and get me out of the way. The plan worked perfectly; I could have met and fought either object alone, but the two combined broke me utterly. I had no spirit of resistance left. Yet even then--in spite of that miserable letter--I retained faith in you.

I returned home to learn the truth from your own lips, only to discover you had already gone. I was a month learning the facts; then I discovered you had married Le Fevre in Richmond; I procured the affidavit of the officiating clergyman. Will you deny now?"

"No," changing her manner instantly--"what is the use? I married the man, but I was deceived, misled. There was no conspiracy in which I was concerned. I did not know where you were; from then until this afternoon I never saw or heard of you. Molly told me of her rescue by a soldier named Hamlin, but I never suspected the truth until we drove by the barracks. Then I yielded to my first mad impulse and sent that note. If you felt toward me with such bitterness, why did you come here? Why consent to meet me again?"

"My yielding was to a second impulse. At first I decided to ignore your note; then came the second consideration--Miss McDonald."

"Oh," and she laughed, "at last I read the riddle. Not satisfied with saving that young lady from savages, you would also preserve her youthful innocence from the contamination of my influence. Quite n.o.ble of you, surely. Are you aware of our relationship?"

"I have heard it referred to--garrison rumor."

"Quite true, in spite of your source of information, which accounts, in a measure, for my presence here as well as my intimacy in the McDonald household. And you propose interfering, plan to drive me forth from this pleasant bird's nest. Really you amuse me, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin."

"But I have not proposed anything of that nature," the man said quietly, rising to his feet. "It is, of course, nothing to me, except that Miss McDonald has been very kind and seems a very nice girl. As I knew something of you and your past, I thought perhaps you might realize how much better it would be to retire gracefully."

"You mean that as a threat? You intend to tell her?"

"Not unless it becomes necessary; I am not proud of the story myself."

Their eyes met, and there was no shadow of softness in either face.

The woman's lips curled sarcastically.

"Really, you take yourself quite seriously, do you not? One might think you still Major of the Fourth Texas, and heir to the old estate on the Brazos. You talked that way to me once before, only to discover that I had claws with which to scratch. Don't make that mistake again, Mr. Sergeant Hamlin, or there will be something more serious than scratching done. I have learned how to fight in the past few years--Heaven knows I have had opportunity--and rather enjoy the excitement. How far would your word go with Molly, do you think? Or with the Major?"

"That remains to be seen."

"Does it? Oh, I understand. You must still consider yourself quite the lady-killer. Well, let me tell you something--she is engaged to Lieutenant Gaskins."

His hand-grip tightened on the rail, but there was no change in the expression of his face.

"So I had heard. I presume that hardly would have been permitted to happen but for the existence of a Mr. Dupont. By the way, which one of you ladies shot the Lieutenant?"

It was a chance fire, and Hamlin was not sure of its effect, although she drew a quick breath, and her voice faltered.

"Shot--Lieutenant Gaskins?"

"Certainly; you must be aware of that?"

"Oh, I knew he had some altercation, and was wounded; he accused you, did he not? But why bring us into the affair?"

"Because some woman was directly concerned in it. Whoever she may be, the officers of the fort are convinced that she probably fired the shot; that the Lieutenant knows her ident.i.ty, and is endeavoring to shield her from discovery."

"Why do they think that? What reason can they have for such a conclusion? Was she seen?"

"Her footprints were plainly visible, and the revolver used was a small one--a '36'--such as a woman alone would carry in this country. I have said so to no one else, but I saw her, crouching in the shadow of the barrack wall."

"You--you saw her? Recognized her?"

"Yes."

"And made no attempt at arrest? Have not even mentioned the fact to others? You must have a reason?"

"I have, Mrs. Dupont, but we will not discuss it now. I merely wish you to comprehend that if it is to be war between us, I am in possession of weapons."

She had not lost control of herself, yet there was that about her hesitancy of speech, her quick breathing, which evidenced her surprise at this discovery. It told him that he had played a good hand, had found a point of weakness in her armor. The mystery of it remained unsolved, but this woman knew who had shot Gaskins; knew, and had every reason to guard the secret. He felt her eyes anxiously searching his face, and laughed a little bitterly.

"You perceive, madam," he went on, encouraged by her silence, "I am not now exactly the same unsuspecting youth with whom you played so easily years ago. I have learned some of life's lessons since; among them how to fight fire with fire. It is a trick of the plains. Do you still consider it necessary for your happiness to remain the guest of the McDonalds?"

She straightened up, turning her eyes away.

"Probably not for long, but it is no threat of yours which influences me. It does not even interest me to know who shot Lieutenant Gaskins.

He is a vulgar little prig, only made possible by the possession of money. However, when I decide to depart, I shall probably do so without consulting your pleasure." She hesitated, her voice softening as though in change of mood. "Yet I should prefer parting with you in friendship. In asking you to meet me to-night I had no intention of quarrelling; merely yielded to an impulse of regret for the past--"

The heavy curtain draping the window was drawn aside, permitting the light from within to flash upon them, revealing the figure of a man in uniform.