The Man from Jericho Part 18

He could not disobey the direct summons. He straightened up with a groan and a wry face, partly feigned and partly caused by a "ketch" from rheumatism, and shuffled forward.

"I said I wanted The Prince this morning," repeated Julia, quite positively, "and I meant it. I shall want him for perhaps an hour--certainly not longer. It does not matter that I have never ridden him. I have ridden real vicious horses before father sold his racers, and this colt is gentle, and we are friends besides. He knows me--see him looking at me now?--Good morning, Prince!"

She smiled and waved her hand at the intelligent face turned towards her.

"Now, Uncle Peter," she resumed, "listen to me, and pay attention to what I say. I'm going to ride down the road for a short distance this morning, and I don't want anyone to know about it, not even father, or Aunt Frances. Can I trust you, Uncle Peter, to keep this secret with me?"

"'Deed yo' kin, missus; 'deed yo' kin!"

"I thought so. Dudleys don't lie, and you are a Dudley, Uncle Peter, always remember that! When you give me your word, I trust you as I would anyone else. I want you to bridle and saddle The Prince at once--you know where my saddle is hung. Then take him through the back lot and the side meadow around to the road. _Don't_ lead him down the drive. It is very necessary that my father should know nothing of this. You must stay with The Prince until I come, which will be soon, immediately after breakfast. Do you understand now, and can I rely upon you?"

"'Deed I do, missus; 'deed yo' kin! I'll fotch de sad'l 'n' tek 'im right roun' to de road!"

"Be careful that no one from the house sees you; hurry, now."

Upon her return she found breakfast ready, and the Major waiting for her. He gave her a morning kiss with his old air of doting pride, and the quick look with which she surveyed him told her that he was in excellent spirits, but whether feigned or real she could not tell. When the meal was over the Major settled himself in the library with a book, and Julia's chance had come. She dared not wait a moment. Already her heart misgave her as she realized to the full all that she was about to undertake. Charged with a subdued excitement which shone in her eyes and glowed on her cheeks, she put on a hat, found her gloves, and secreting the weapon as she walked, she left the house by way of the long side porch and sought her rendezvous with Peter. He was waiting for her like a faithful Arab, with one arm over the neck of his charge. She whispered a few added words of caution to the mystified old servitor, mounted, and started slowly down the road. The distance was short, and she wanted to have herself well in hand, and decide upon the best method in which to approach this enemy to her house.

It was a bright June morning. The air was balmy and fresh and invigorating; it came to her nostrils as the very essence of life from the earth's great laboratory, and it gently lifted the curls which clung about her forehead and neck. The sun had not gathered its full power; its rays blessed while they did not burn. The dense foliage of the roadside trees rustled gently, showering down upon her an elfin song of gladness. All nature was a-thrill with the joy of living, and only this poor little human seemed sad and out of tune. The Prince, too, felt the call of the new day. His pointed ears were up and attentive to every sound; his neck was arched, and his nostrils stretched to the sweet waves of air. It was with some difficulty his rider succeeded in holding him down to a walk. He longed to run--to race with the morning, for this was his breeding through a long, long line of ancestors. To feel the keen wind in his face, to have it rushing past his ears and plucking at his mane and dashing in his eyes; to know the earth was reeling beneath his flying hoofs and that nothing could gain a place in front of him!

But his rider kept a firm hold on the reins, and pursued her way in a walk. She would reach her destination soon enough. How she wished the interview was over and done, and she was now on her return trip! She believed she would have let The Prince run, then. The road took a turn a few rods in advance. She knew the place. When she had rounded that bend the house of Devil Marston would be in view. She shut her eyes as she neared it, and breathed a little prayer for strength and guidance.

As the sombre brick pile burst on her sight her face grew white, and she felt a chill of absolute terror settling over her. She told herself fiercely that this would never do--that a contained presence and visible courage she must have, or a.s.sume, as they would be invaluable allies in the success of her scheme. The thought of her old father, almost helpless, and the cruel wrong they had each sustained, brought a sudden flood of resentment, and borne on this same current was self-possession and a.s.surance. She turned off the highway directly in front of the gloomy-looking house girt with funereal cedars, and came to a farm gate, loosely hung, and sagging. It was hard work for her to drag it open from the saddle sufficiently wide for The Prince to pa.s.s through, but she managed it in time, conscious that the exertion had brought the rich colour back to her face. A rutty, unkept road led towards the yard fence, where it swerved around the corner and went on towards the stables. But there was a small gate in the fence, which, while not intended for the use of hors.e.m.e.n, Julia rode through. It was a dreary place into which she had come. There was no pavement or walk of any sort going up to the front of the house. The yard was covered with some rank and worthless variety of gra.s.s, which was tangled and long. Bushes, shrubs, all run wild, and an occasional flower which had come up by chance, were dispersed about. The flowers seemed sickly and afraid to grow, as though they had made a mistake in attempting life amid such surroundings, and wished to bloom and die and be done with it as quickly as possible. The cedars were nearer the house, and created a doleful, grave-yard-like air. The sun was lost among their dark branches, and the breeze which pa.s.sed through them soughed mournfully. The ground beneath the trees was bare and brown.

Julia had involuntarily reined in the colt when she entered this almost gruesome demesne. She had not imagined anything so repellant. Yet it all was a fitting environment for the master of it. It was in perfect keeping with the unholy spirit of the man who dwelt in the house beyond.

Up to this moment Julia had seen no sign of life, but as she urged The Prince forward towards the shut front door gleaming dingily green between the vivid colours of the cedars, a monstrous dog appeared from somewhere and disputed her pa.s.sage with a low growl and bristling hackles. It was a fierce beast, half-starved, huge, savage as a tiger.

It was a boar-hound of foreign breed--Marston had a number of them, though Julia, of course, knew nothing of this. The Prince stopped as this spectre of war took its place in front of him, and Julia felt the rigour which swept his frame. But he did not attempt to bolt. He merely stood with bright eyes, watching the sinister apparition. The dog was not inclined to be aggressive; he merely appeared to be a sentinel, his duty being to stop further progress of the intruders. Julia did not know what to do. She would not retreat now. She was before the lion's den, and she would see him before she withdrew. She _had_ to see him, for life and death hung in the balance. If she did not see him she was surely lost; if she did see him, there was a chance. The dog had no notion of retiring, and the situation was rapidly becoming strained.

Just as she had made up her mind to call, and try and bring some one to her aid, a shrill whistle sounded somewhere in the rear. The brute before her turned its head, and its tail drooped. The whistle was repeated, louder than before, and thereupon the guardian of the way forsook his post, and retreated in a trot around the corner of the house. Julia promptly rode forward. There was some open ground between the trees, and she presently found herself in a clear s.p.a.ce just in front of the house. Some flagstones were placed before the wooden step under the portals, and an iron knocker was imbedded in one of the panels of the ma.s.sive doors. Should she dismount, and raise a summons? The very atmosphere was oppressive, in spite of the enveloping sunshine. She hesitated again; she did not know what to do. Everything was so different from all to which she had been accustomed. Here was silence, mystery, secrecy; a house without a window or door open to that glorious morning. And the only sign of life that had been evinced was a ferocious dog, and a whistle from some hidden source, which must have come from human lips. She looked about her piteously, undecided. How still everything was! There were no birds singing--but how could bird hearts break forth in song under that pall of cedar? She turned again to gaze at the heavy iron knocker, and just then a piercing animal yelp of pain or fright reached her, followed by a foul malediction in a man's rough voice. More yelps ensued, mingled with snarls and vicious oaths, then around the corner of the house they came--the dog which had stood in her path, with Devil Marston in hot pursuit. Plainly the dog had trespa.s.sed in a most unwarrantable manner, for between his strong jaws was a roast of beef, which thus far he had refused to deliver to its owner. Its pursuer was armed with a heavy cudgel, and he did not temper his blows with either mercy or judgment. In this wise they swept into view, the dog but slightly in advance of the man, who was swinging his bludgeon to an accompaniment of awful curses.

It happened that Julia was facing this spectacle, and its presentation made her weak and faint for the moment. Never had her tender ears listened to such words before as fell from the lips of this man. His swarthy face was working and twitching from the volcano-like violence of his rage, and his fangs showed even as did the beast's he was pursuing.

The sudden and altogether unexpected appearance of Miss Julia Dudley before his door, mounted upon The Prince, was not sufficient to calm on the instant his superlative pa.s.sion, which at times almost amounted to a fit, or frenzy. It is true he stopped short in his mad rush, but before he could bring himself to any degree of control he hurled the cudgel in his hand after the fleeing hound with all his strength, at the same moment delivering a half smothered, parting malediction.

Julia sat like a stone statue upon The Prince, which had shied violently at first, and in a way which would have unseated a less skillful rider.

Her head was up, her brows slightly contracted, and her fine eyes set straight at the being who now walked towards her, his hat in his hand.

By a superhuman effort of will Marston had composed his features, and as he halted a little to one side of The Prince's head, he was smiling, if the incongruous facial expression he now a.s.sumed could be designated that way.

"Good morning, Miss Julia," he said.

The covert insolence in his voice was thinly veiled by a respectful intonation.

"Good morning, Mr. Marston."

Julia was surprised at the steady tones in which she responded to his salutation. She had feared a quiver would run through the words.

"I believe an apology is due you," resumed Marston, "before I inquire the cause of this visit. I'm glad to see you, you know."

He paused a moment to gloat openly over her face and figure. The girl felt herself grow colder before his bold gaze, but said nothing.

"That da--that dog was called to his breakfast, and took a fancy to my dinner, which was on a shelf near. Of course I tried to get it away from him, and in the chase we ran into you. But I haven't welcomed you to my home yet; shake hands with me!"

He advanced to her side and held up his hand.

For a moment a mist swam before Julia's eyes, and she hesitated. All the hateful story which her father had told her rose up in detail, and she felt that to touch this monster would blast her. But she had come to sue for a favour--really to demand justice, but it meant the same thing. She could not afford to affront him, or anger him, if she could help it. She bent and placed her gloved hand in his, silently. He held it in a firm, fierce grasp until she forcibly withdrew it. His little, pig-like eyes were flaming with a different emotion from that which had possessed them a moment ago.

"Come--get down," he said, hoa.r.s.ely. "You have come to call and I want to receive you in my house. I will get a boy to hold your horse."

He looked at her with hungry cunning as he spoke, and the proud spirit of the Dudleys within her rebelled.

"I shall not dismount," she said, backing The Prince a few steps ere she was aware of what she was doing. "My business here can be told briefly, and I haven't time to stay."

She tried to choose her words carefully, for there was so much involved.

"Ah!" he snarled; "so you refuse my hospitality!"

"I do not mean it that way, believe me. But I must hurry, and we can talk as well here."

He came a few paces nearer, covering the distance she had placed between them when she unconsciously backed The Prince.

"I don't like this!" he exclaimed, half rudely, looking at her with bold deviltry in his heavy face. "We are too far apart; friends should be nearer when they talk."

He bared his protruding teeth in a horrible grin as he said this. His shrewd if debased intellect had told him from the first that nothing but the direst need would bring a Dudley to his door on any sort of mission whatsoever. And as he realized that both girl and horse were for the time in his power, a Satanic joy possessed him, and made him toy with the situation, in order to prolong it as far as possible.

"Let me insist on your being my guest as long as you stay!" he leered, trying no longer to cloak the wicked pa.s.sion which seethed in his tainted soul. "I have wine--refreshments. Come into the parlour where we can talk undisturbed."

A feeling of actual physical nausea shook Julia. She grasped the pommel of her saddle and swayed the least bit, then the sickness pa.s.sed, and she was erect again, though whiter than one dead. She seemed the wraith of the girl who had ridden down the road. She did not know why this man should insist so strongly on her entering his door. She knew that he had pretended to love her, but that was over now, and gone. They had not seen each other for months. He could not wish to entertain her for any worthy reason, and though she could neither comprehend nor even suspect the depths of vileness in his heart, she knew that she had best remain where she was.

"Please don't insist," she pleaded, her voice slightly tremulous in spite of her will. "I must speak quickly, and be gone. I do not feel that I have come to ask a favour, but simply to ask you to do right.

Won't you please have the dividend declared at the bank, instead of pa.s.sing it? You know it means very much to father and me."

Although she endeavoured to present her cause coolly, her voice was that of a suppliant. It vibrated with pent-up emotion, and had a strange effect upon the man before her. His expression changed; his hands clenched at his sides, and he seemed battling with some internal feeling. He had taken his eyes from her, too, and was looking at the ground. But as she watched him, waiting breathlessly for his answer, he lifted his face again, and she almost cried out from terror, for she was in the presence of an incarnate fiend. His eyes seemed swimming in fire, and his countenance was that of a demon. He did not move nor speak for several moments; he was literally holding himself in his tracks. He was a moral outlaw; the lawless offspring of lawless parents; begotten in basest sin and nurtured in infamy. He had never put the slightest check on any of his wishes or desires. With him desire had always meant gratification. And now, in the murky gloom of his black soul's recesses a new desire had been born; or, rather, a new flame had been given to an old desire. Even when driven from Major Dudley's home he had not forsaken the idea that some day this fair young thing should be his.

Subsequently the idea had slumbered in his breast, but he had been only waiting--waiting and plotting. Now she had come within reach of his hand, alone, and he would have given his left hand to have grasped her with his right. No one but his hirelings were near, and it was no innate, dormant worth or goodness which stayed his hand. In part it was the innocence and unconscious purity of the girl herself, which wrapped her as in a garment and held an invisible but powerful shield before her. This moral atmosphere which enveloped her was so evident that even the dulled and warped sensibilities of Devil Marston, at their best but unformed and sickly fungi, recognized it, and trembled before it. Yet the lash which was driving him would in time have made him dash aside this shield, in all probability, had there not been another powerful, though absent factor. The face and form of John Glenning kept constantly recurring. Should he dare touch this girl's dress, to say nothing of forcing his beast's lips on hers, he knew that his life would pay the forfeit. He knew that John Glenning would certainly kill him. So he was torn horribly by different emotions, as he stood and wrestled silently.

At length he spoke; the voice of a beast made articulate. It was croaking and harsh; the blending of a bellow and a growl.

"So--you--need money, do you?"

The words in themselves was an insult, independent of the wagging of his bull-like head, which slowly moved in mockery.

The terrible trial was telling upon Julia. Her great eyes were strained, and lines of distress were forming at the corners of her mouth. She shifted the reins to her left hand and thrust her right under the loose folds of a light wrap which she carried. When her fingers closed upon the handle of the revolver, new courage came. She would go on, though something told her that her quest was hopeless.

"Yes, we need money, but we don't want any that isn't rightfully ours. I have read in the _Herald_ all about the affair at the bank, and how the dividend was pa.s.sed that you might make improvements and buy a new safe. Can't you do these things, and declare the dividend, too?"

"We _might_ do without these things altogether," he answered, darkly.

She grasped at the straw.

"Oh, please do! I felt that if I would come and ask you to give us what was really ours, that you would. Won't you have it done, Mr. Marston?

Tell me, and I'll not detain you any longer."

Again he smiled his wolfish smile, and gazed on her in a sinister way.