Swept Out to Sea Part 6

"But you have mine, Clinton!" she cried.

"Indeed, I have!" I returned, smiling, "and I'd take it upon almost any other subject you could name, Mumsie! But you are prejudiced in favor of Mr. Downes."

"And you are prejudiced against him."

"I am, indeed," I admitted. "And am so prejudiced that I do not mean he shall ever interfere in my affairs again."

"Oh, Clinton!" she cried, "I do not see how you can speak so to me."

"Now, mother dear," I said, "I do not mean to be unfilial to you, or ungrateful for your kindness. But Paul Downes tried to stab me last night----"

"Oh!" she cried, and shrank and trembled.

"I hate to annoy you by bringing up such things, but I must show you that they cannot hang around here any more," I declared, firmly. "Paul hates me; his father has done his best to poison your mind against me. I have been in danger of my life, and in danger of losing your love and trust, through the Downeses----"

"No, no!" she said, to this last.

"I am afraid I am right," I said. "I know that I have kept away from the house a good deal this summer. I couldn't stay here and listen to that false man and be annoyed by that great, hulking boy of his. Now, let us be the good friends we always have been when the Downeses are at a distance."

"Oh, Clinton! my dear boy! I only live for you!" she cried, and began to sob so that I felt condemned to insist. But the occasion was serious. I knew--as Ham had warned me--that Chester Downes was lingering near and would soon attempt to see my mother again.

"Then, let us be more to each other, mother," I said, quietly.

"But I need your uncle to a.s.sist me," she said. "He can manage my business much better than I possibly can----"

"What's the matter with Mr. Hounsditch?" I demanded. "He was our lawyer and had been grandfather's lawyer, too."

"Mr. Hounsditch is an old man. He is behind the times. He cannot invest our money to such good advantage----"

"_Who says so?_" I asked, and she could not answer the pointed question without admitting what I had supposed--that Mr. Chester Downes put these opinions of the keen old lawyer into mother's head.

"I don't care much about the money, mother," I said. "I suppose we have plenty anyway, and the real estate cannot be sold at all till I am of age. But what property does come to me when I'm twenty-one, I'd rather not have Mr. Chester Downes handle. I'd rather trust to Mr. Hounsditch and accept small interest."

"Clinton! you are really ridiculous," cried mother, reddening again.

"Well, that's all right," I returned, laughing. "But you'll hear to me, mother, won't you? You won't bother about Chester Downes and Paul? Put it down that I am jealous of the influence they have over you, if you like. I don't care. Just let's you and I live together and be happy."

"That's all I live for--to make you happy, Clinton," said my mother, still sobbing like a child who has been injured.

"Then this request I make will be the only thing I'll ask you to do for me for a year, Mumsie!" I cried, calling her by the pet name I had used when I was a little fellow.

"Will it really make you so happy, my boy?" she asked, wistfully.

"Indeed it will," I declared. "And now I've bothered you long enough.

I'll be around here if you want me. I shan't go out on the water today, or until you feel quite yourself again."

I went out of her room. Marie, the Frenchwoman, was just coming up the stairs. I saw her hide her hand with something in it under her ap.r.o.n. It was a square white object. I knew it was a letter. Mr. Chester Downes had been writing to my mother, and Marie was the go-between. She smiled, slyly, as she pa.s.sed me and whisked into the room I had just left.

CHAPTER VII

IN WHICH I PUT TWO AND TWO TOGETHER--AND SLEEP ABOARD THE WAVECREST

If for no other reason, that sly smile of my mother's French maid would have kept me at home that day. I was still strolling about the place, just before luncheon, when I saw Mr. Chester Downes' spare figure and his tall hat coming up the hill. I went down the path and met him at the steps which mounted the little terrace from the street to our lawn.

"Oh!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Are _you_ here?"

"You are just in time to catch me as I was going out, Mr. Downes," I said. "What have you to say to me, sir?"

"Nothing, young man--nothing," he exclaimed.

"You certainly have not walked over here merely for the pleasure of looking at the house," I said, smartly.

"I have come to see your mother, sir. And I propose to see her," he said. "Last night I did not wish to make a disturbance while she was so ill. But I understand from Dr. Eldridge that she is much improved----"

"You are correct there, Mr. Downes," I said. "And she will continue to improve I hope. But whether she is well or ill, you cannot see her."

"Nonsense, boy! you are crazy. Do you know that I am a man, your uncle, and your mother's business agent? Bold as you are, sir, you are a minor."

"I never wanted to wish my life away before, sir," I said, gravely. "But I do sincerely wish that I was of age, Mr. Downes. However, I believe I shall be able to hold my own with you, sir. At least, I shall try. And if this is to be your course I shall know what to do. Before you get into that house to trouble my mother again, I'll place a guard around it."

"You talk ridiculously. You cannot do such a thing."

"No, perhaps not. And fortunately, I shan't have to take such extreme measures. I have a better way of keeping you off the premises."

"You would not dare do what you threatened last night, Clinton Webb," he said, his voice shaking with anger.

"You pa.s.s me and go up to that door, and see whether I dare or not," I returned, my eyes flashing. "Paul tried to stab me. I'll have him arrested if he is in Bolderhead still, and if he has run away I'll find means of having him brought back here to stand trial."

I was just as earnest as ever I was about anything in my life, and I guess Mr. Chester Downes realized it. He had gone away the night before in haste; but after thinking over the situation he believed that I could be browbeaten and my will set aside. He stared at me, with his dark, Indian-looking face reddening under the skin, and Paul had not looked at me more murderously the night before when we quarreled aboard the Wavecrest, than his father did now!

"Why, sir," said Mr. Downes at last, "this is a most ridiculous thing for you to do. I can write to your mother--and I shall. She will demand that I attend her----"

"Until she does so, just take notice that you're not to come here," I interrupted. "That is, if you want Paul to stay out of jail."

I turned on my heel then and walked back to the house, and he--after hesitating a half minute or so--turned likewise and stalked down the hill. I was pretty sure he would not come back--not in that tall hat, anyway--for before luncheon was over it had begun to rain and rained hard. There was a sharp wind from the northwest--nor'--nor'--west, to be exact--and everybody within a hundred miles of Cape Ann knows what that means. In all probability we were in for a long offsh.o.r.e gale.

So I risked going over the ferry that afternoon on an errand. I did not propose to get caught out on the Wavecrest again without provisions, and I purchased half a boat load of canned goods and the like, and a couple of cases of spring water. While I was hunting for a boat and a man to take my purchases aboard the sloop I ran against my cousin Paul.

He was not alone, and the instant I spied him with two hang-dog fellows, I knew he was--like the hen in the story--"laying for me!" Paul Downes knew half the riff-raff of Bolderhead which, like most small seaports, boasted more than a sufficient quant.i.ty of wharf-rats. Mr. Downes had been wont to expatiate to my mother on my taste for low company; but he must have had his own son in mind. Paul certainly picked sour fruit when he made friends along the water-front of Bolderhead!

"That's the feller," snarled my cousin--I could read his lips, although the trio was across the narrow street as I went along the docks--and I knew very well that he was hatching something against me with his two friends.

But they were not likely to pitch upon me here in broad daylight, so I paid them little heed at the moment. I found old Crab Bolster and his skiff to lighter my cargo across the inlet, and when the boy came down from the store with the barrow, Crab and I loaded the provisions and spring water into his boat. Paul and his companions looked on, whispering together now and then, from a neighboring wharf.