Rosalind at Red Gate Part 39

"Then I may speak to him, soul to soul, if I find that I bore myself."

We climbed the steps to the cool shadows of the terrace. As we stood a moment looking out on the lake we saw, far away toward the northern sh.o.r.e, the _Stiletto_, that seemed just to have slipped out from the lower lake. The humor of the situation pleased me; Helen was off there in the sloop playing at being kidnapped to hara.s.s her aunt into coming to terms with Henry Holbrook, and she was doubtless rejoicing in the fact that she had effected a combination of events that would make her father's case irresistible.

But there was no time to lose. I made Gillespie comfortable indoors and sent Ijima to get the bag I had asked for; and a few minutes later the launch was skimming over the water toward the canoe-maker's house at Red Gate.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE ROCKET SIGNAL

Blow up the trumpet in the new moon.

--_The Psalter_.

Rosalind was cutting sweet peas in the garden where they climbed high upon a filmy net, humming softly to herself. She was culling out white ones, which somehow suggested her own white b.u.t.terflies--a proper business for any girl on a sunny morning, with the dew still bright where the shadows lay, with bird-wings flashing about her, and the kindliest of airs blowing her hair.

"A penny for your thoughts!" I challenged.

She snipped an imaginary flower from the air in my direction.

"Keep your money! I was not thinking of you! You wear, sir, an intent commercial air; have you thread and needles in your pack?"

"It is ordained that we continue the game of last night. To-day you are to invade the very citadel and deceive your aunt. Your cousin has left without notice and the situation demands prompt action."

I was already carrying the suit-case toward the house, explaining as we walked along together.

"But was I so successful last night? Was he really deceived, or did he just play that he was?"

"He's madly in love with you. You stole away all his senses. But he thought you changed toward him unaccountably on the way home."

"But why didn't she tell him?--she must have told him."

"Oh, I took care of that! I rather warned her against betraying us.

And now she's trying to punish me by being kidnapped!"

Rosalind paused at the threshold, gathering the stems of the sweet peas in her hands.

"Do you think," she began, "do you think he really liked me--I mean the real me?"

"Like you! That is not the right word for it. He's gloomily dreaming of you--the real you--at this very moment over at Glenarm. But do hasten into these things that Sister Margaret picked out for you. I must see your father before I carry you off. We've no time to waste, I can tell you!"

The canoe-maker heard my story in silence and shook his head.

"It is impossible; we should only get into deeper trouble. I have no great faith in this resemblance. It may have worked once on young Gillespie, but women have sharper eyes."

"But it must be tried!" I pleaded. "We are approaching the end of these troubles, and nothing must be allowed to interfere. Your sister wishes to see you; this is her birthday."

"So it is! So it is!" exclaimed the canoe-maker with feeling.

"Helen must be saved from her own folly. Her aunt must not know of this latest exploit; it would ruin everything."

As we debated Rosalind joined her persuasions to mine.

"Aunt Pat must not know what Helen has done if we can help it," she said.

While she changed her clothes I talked on at the house-boat with her father.

"My sister has asked for me?"

"Yes; your sister is ready to settle with Henry; but she wishes to see you first. She has begged me to find you; but Helen must go back to her aunt. This fraudulent kidnapping must never be known to Miss Pat.

And on the other hand, I hope it may not be necessary for Helen to know the truth about her father."

"I dare say she would sacrifice my own daughter quickly enough," he said.

"No; you are wrong; I do not believe it! She is making no war on you, or on her aunt! It's against me! She enjoys a contest; she's trying to beat me."

"She believes that I forged the Gillespie notes and ruined her father.

Henry has undoubtedly told her so."

"Yes; and he has used her to get them away from young Gillespie.

There's no question about that. But I have the notes, and I propose holding them for your protection. But I don't want to use them if I can help it."

"I appreciate what you are doing for me," he said quietly, but his eyes were still troubled and I saw that he had little faith in the outcome.

"Your sister is disposed to deal generously with Henry. She does not know where the dishonor lies."

"'We are all honorable men,'" he replied bitterly, slowly pacing the floor. His sleeves were rolled away from his sun-browned arms, his shirt was open at the throat, and though he wore the rough clothes of a mechanic he looked more the artist at work in a rural studio than the canoe-maker of the Tippecanoe. He walked to a window and looked down for a moment upon the singing creek, then came back to me and spoke in a different tone.

"I have given these years of my life to protecting my brother, and they must not be wasted. I have nothing to say against him; I shall keep silent."

"He has forfeited every right. Now is your time to punish him," I said; but Arthur Holbrook only looked at me pityingly.

"I don't want revenge, Mr. Donovan, but I am almost in a mood for justice," he said with a rueful smile; and just then Rosalind entered the shop.

"Is my fate decided?" she demanded.

The sight of her seemed to renew the canoe-maker's distress, and I led the way at once to the door. I think that in spite of my efforts to be gay and to carry the affair off lightly, we all felt that the day was momentous.

"When shall I expect you back?" asked Holbrook, when we had reached the launch.

"Early to-night," I answered.

"But if anything should happen here?" The tears flashed in Rosalind's eyes, and she clung a moment to his hand.

"He will hardly be troubled by daylight, and this evening he can send up a rocket if any one molests him. Go ahead, Ijima!"