The Eye of Dread Part 26

"I gave you my name--all the name I have." His face was white in the dim light and the lids drew close over his gray eyes.

"You prefer to lie to me? I ask in good faith."

"All the name I have is the one I gave you, Harry King."

"And you will hold to the lie?" They looked steadily into each other's eyes. The young man nodded. "And there was more I asked of you."

Then the young man turned away from the keen eyes that had held him and sat up in the fodder and clasped his knees with his hands and looked straight out before him, regarding nothing--nothing but his own thoughts. A strange expression crept over his face,--was it fear--or was it an inward terror? Suddenly he put out his hand with a frantic gesture toward the darkest corner of the place, "It's there," he cried in a voice scarcely above a whisper, then hid his eyes and moaned. At the sight, the big man's face softened.

"Lad, lad, ye're in trouble. I saved your body as it hung over the cliff--and the Lord only knows how ye were saved. I took ye home and laid ye in my own bunk,--and looked on your face--and there my heart cried on the Lord for the first time in many years. I had forsworn the company of men, and of all women,--and the faith of my fathers had died in me,--but there, as I looked on your face--the lost years came back. And now--ye're only Harry King. Only Harry King."

"That's all." The young man's lips set tightly and the cords of his neck stood out. Nothing was lost to the eyes that watched him so intently.

"I had a son--once. I held him in my arms--for an hour--and then left him forever. You have a face that reminds me of one--one I hated--and it minds me of one I--I--loved,--of one I loved better than I loved life."

Then Harry King turned and gazed in the big man's eyes, and as he gazed, the withdrawn, inward look left his own. He still sat clasping his knees. "I can more easily tell you what I have done than I can tell you my name. I have sworn never to utter it again." He was weeping, but he hid his tears for very shame of them.

The older man shook his head. "I've known sorrow, boy, but the lesson of it, never. Men say there is a thing to be learned from sorrow, but to me it has brought only rebellion and bitterness. So I've missed the good of it because it came upon me through arrogance and injustice--not my own. So now I say to you--if it was at the expense of your soul I saved your life, it were better I had let you go down. Lad,--you've brought me a softness,--it's like what a man feels for a woman. I'm glad it's come back to me. It is good to feel. I'd make a son of you,--but--for the truth's sake tell me a bit more."

"I had a friend and I killed him. I was angry and killed him. I have left my name in his grave." Harry King rose and walked away and stood shivering in the entrance of the shed. Then he came back and spoke humbly. "Do with me what you will, but call me Harry King. I have nothing on earth but the clothes on my body, and they are in rags. If you have work for me to do, let me do it, in mercy. If not, let me go back to the plains and die there."

"How long ago was this?"

"More--more than two years ago--yes, three--perhaps."

"And where have you been?"

"Knocking about--hiding. For a while I had work on the road they are building--"

"Road? What road?"

"The new railroad across the continent."

"Where, young man, where?"

"From Chicago on. They got it as far as Cheyenne, but that was the very place of all others where they would be apt to hunt for me. I got news of a detective hanging about the camp, and I was sure he had come there to track me. I had my wages and my clothes, and when I found they had traced me there, I spent all I had for my horse and took my pack and struck out over the plains." He paused and wiped the cold drops from his forehead, then lifted his head with gathered courage.

"One day,--I found these people, nigh starving for both water and food, and without strength to go where they could be provided for.

They, too, were refugees, I learned, and so I cast my lot with theirs, and served them as best I could."

"And now they have fallen to the two of us to provide for. You say, give you work? I've lived here these twenty years and found work for no man but myself. I've found plenty of that--just to keep alive, part of the time. It's bad here in the winter--if the stores give out. Tell me what you know of these women."

"Where is the man?"

"Dead. I found him dead before I reached them. I left him lying where I found him, and pushed on--got there just in time. He wasn't three hours away from them as a man walks. I made them as comfortable as I could and saw that no Indians were about, nor had been, they said; so I ventured back and made a grave for him as best I could, and told the daughter only, for the old lady seemed out of her head. I don't know what we can do with her if she gets worse. I don't know." As the big man talked he noticed the younger one growing calmer and listening intently.

"Before I buried him I searched him and found a few papers--just letters in a strange language, and from the feeling of his coat I judged others were hid--sewed in it, so I fetched it back to her--the young one. You thought I was long gone, and there was where you made the blunder. How did you suppose I came by the pack mule and the other horse?"

"When I saw them, I knew you must have gone to Higgins' Camp and back, but how could I know it before? You might have been in need of me, and of food."

"We'll say no more of it. Those men at the camp are beasts. I bought those animals and paid gold for them. They wanted to know where I got the gold. I told them where they'd never get it. They asked me ten prices for those beasts, and then tried to keep me there until they could clean me out and get hold of my knowledge. But I skipped away in the night when they were all drunk and asleep. Then I had to make a long detour to put them off the track if they should try to follow me, and all that took time."

The big man paused to fill and light his pipe. "And what next?" asked Harry King.

"Except for enough food and water to last us up the trail you came, I packed nothing back to the wagon, and so had room to bring a few of their things up here, and there may be some of your own among them--they said something about it. We hauled the wagon as far as a good place to hide it, in a wash, could be found, and we covered it--and our tracks. But there was nothing left in it but a few of their utensils, unless the box they did not open contained something.

It was left in the wagon. That was the best I could do with only the help of the young woman, and she was too weak to do much. It may lie there untouched for ten years unless a rain scoops it out, and that's not likely.

"I showed the young woman as we came along where her father lay, and as we came to a halt a bit farther on, she went back, while her mother slept, and knelt there praying for an hour. I doubt any good it did him, but it comforted her heart. It's a good religion for a woman, where she does not have to think things out for herself, but takes a priest's word for it all. And now they're here, and you're here, and my home is invaded, and my peace is gone, and may the Lord help me--I can't."

Harry King looked at him a moment in silence. "Nor can I--help--but to take myself off."

"Take yourself off! And leave me alone with two women? I who have foresworn them forever! How do you know but that they may each be possessed by seven devils? But there! It isn't so bad. As long as they stay you'll stay. It was through you they are here, and close on to winter,--and if it was summer, it would be as bad to send them away where they would have no place to stay and no way to live. Lad, the world's hard on women. I've seen much."

Harry King went again and stood in the open entrance of the shed and waited. The big man saw that he had succeeded in taking the other's mind off himself, and had led him to think of others, and now he followed up the advantage toward confidence that he had thus gained.

He also came to the entrance and laid his kindly hand on the younger man's shoulder, and there in the pale light of that cloudy fall morning, standing in the cool, invigorating air, with the sound of falling water in their ears, the two men made a compact, and the end was this.

"Harry King, if you'll be my son, I'll be your father. My boy would be about your age--if he lives,--but if he does, he has been taught to look down on me--on the very thought of me." He cast a wistful glance at the young man's face as he spoke. "From the time I held him in my arms, a day-old baby, I've never seen him, and it may be he has never heard of me. He was in good hands and was given over for good reasons, to one who hated my name and my race--and me. For love of his mother I did this. It was all I could do for her; I would have gone down into the grave for her.

"I, too, have been a wanderer over the face of the earth. At first I lived in India--in China--anywhere to be as far on the other side of the earth from her grave and my boy, as I vowed I would, but I've kept the memory of her sweet in my heart. You need not fear I'll ask again for your name. Until you choose to give it I will respect your wish,--and for the rest--speak of it when you must--but not before. I have no more to ask. You've been well bred, as I said, and that's enough for me. You're more than of age--I can see that--but it's my opinion you need a father. Will you take me?"

The young man drew in his breath sharply through quivering lips, and made answer with averted head: "Cain! Cain and the curse of Cain! Can I allow another to share it?"

"Another shares it and you have no choice."

"I will be more than a son. Sons hurt their fathers and accept all from them and give little. You lifted me out of the abyss and brought me back to life. You took on yourself the burden laid on me, to save those who trusted me, knowing nothing of my crime,--and now you drag my very soul from h.e.l.l. I will do more than be your son--I will give you the life you saved. Who are you?"

Then the big man gave his name, making no reciprocal demand. What mattered a name? It was the man, by whatever name, he wanted.

"I am an Irishman by birth, and my name is Larry Kildene. If you'll go to a little county not so far from Dublin, but to the north, you'll find my people."

He was looking away toward the top of the mountain as he spoke, and was seeing his grandfather's house as he had seen it when a boy, and so he did not see the countenance of the young man at his side. Had he done so, he would not have missed knowing what the young man from that moment knew, and from that moment, out of the love now awakened in his heart for the big man, carefully concealed, giving thanks that he had not told his name.

For a long minute they stood thus looking away from each other, while Harry King, by a mighty effort, gained control of his features, and his voice. Then although white to the lips, he spoke quietly: "Harry King--the murderer--be the son of Larry Kildene--Larry Kildene--I--to slink away in the hills--forever to hide--"

"No more of that. I'll show you a new life. Give me your hand, Harry King." And the young man extended both hands in a silence through which no words could have been heard.

CHAPTER XVII

ADOPTING A FAMILY

As the two men walked down toward the cabin they saw Amalia standing beside the door in the sunlight which now streamed through a rift in the clouds, gazing up at the towering mountain and listening to the falling water. She spied them and came swiftly to them, extending both hands in a sweet, gracious impulsiveness, and began speaking rapidly even before she reached them.

"Ah! So beautiful is your home! It is so much that I would say to you of grat.i.tude in my heart--it is like a river flowing swiftly to tell you--Ah! I cannot say it all--and we come and intrude ourselves upon you thus that you have no place where to go for your own sleeping--Is not? Yes, I know it. So must we think quickly how we may unburden you of us--my mother and myself--only that she yet is sleeping that strange sleep that seems still not like sleep. Let me that I serve you, sir?"

Larry Kildene looked on her glowing, upturned face, gathering his slower wits for some response to her swift speech, while she turned to the younger man, grasping his hands in the same manner and not ceasing the flow of her utterance.