The Night Riders Part 40

"You remember the day I woke to find myself here, Danny?" he said. "It just occurs to me now that I wasn't unconscious all the time before. I distinctly remember dreaming. Perhaps I was only asleep."

The girl shook her head.

"You were more than asleep," she said portentously.

"Anyhow, I distinctly remember a dream I had. I should say it was 'nightmare.' It was about your father. He'd got me by the throat, and--what's the matter?"

Diane started, and, to Tresler's alarm, looked like fainting; but she recovered at once.

"Nothing," she said, "only--only I can't bear to think of that time, and then--then--father strangling you! Don't think of your dream.

Let's talk of something else."

Tresler's alarm abated at once; he laughed softly and leant forward and kissed her.

"Our future--our little home. Eh, dearest?" he suggested tenderly.

She returned his embrace and made a pitiful attempt to smile back into the eyes which looked so eagerly into hers. And now, for the first time, her lover began to understand that there really was something amiss with her. It was that look, so wistful, so appealing, that roused his apprehension. He pressed her to tell him her trouble, until, for sheer misery, she could keep it from him no longer.

"It's nothing," she faltered, with trembling lips.

Watching her face with a lover's jealousy he kept silence, for he knew that her first words were only her woman's preliminary to something she considered serious.

"Jack," she said presently, settling all her attention upon her work, "you've never asked me anything about myself. Isn't that unusual?

Perhaps you are not interested, or perhaps"--her head bent lower over her work--"you, with your generous heart, are ready to take me on trust. However," she went on, before he could interrupt her, "I intend to tell you what you refuse to ask. No," as he leant forward and kissed her again, "now sit up and light your pipe. There are to be no interruptions like that."

She smiled wistfully and gently pushed him back into his chair.

"Now," she began, as he settled himself to listen, "I must go back such a long, long way. Before I was born. Father was a sea captain then. First the captain of a whaler, afterward he bought a ship of his own and traded round the East Indies. He often used to talk of those days, not because he had any desire to tell me of them, but it seemed to relieve him when he was in a bad temper. I don't know what his trade was, but I think it was of an exciting nature. He often spoke of the risks, which, he said, were amply compensated by the money he made." Tresler smiled gravely. "And father must have made a lot of money at that time, for he married mother, bought himself a fine house and lands just outside Kingston, in Jamaica, and, I believe, he kept a whole army of black servants. Yes, and he has told me, not once, but a hundred times, that he dates all his misfortunes from the day he married my mother, which always seems unfair to her anyway. Somehow I can never think of father as ever having been a kind man, and I've no doubt that poor mother had anything but an easy time of it with him.

However, it is not for me to criticize." She paused, but went on almost immediately. "Let me see, it was directly after the honeymoon that he went away on his last trading trip. He was to call at Java.

Jake was his mate, you know, and they were expecting to return in six months' time with a rich harvest of what he calls 'Black Ivory.' I think it was some native manufacture, because he had to call at the native villages. He told me so. But the trip was abandoned after three weeks at sea. Father was stricken down with yellow fever. And from that day to this he has never seen the light of day."

The girl pushed her work aside and went on drearily.

"When he recovered from the fever he was brought home, as he said himself, 'a blind hulk.' Mother nursed him back to health and strength, but she could not restore his sight. I am telling you these things just as I have gleaned them from him at such moments as he chose to be communicative. I imagine, too, from the little things he sometimes let fall when he was angry, that all this time he lived in a state of impotent fury against all the world, against G.o.d, but particularly against the one person to whom he should have been most grateful--mother. All his friends deserted him in consequence of his bitter temper--all, that is, except Jake. At last in desperation, he conceived the idea of going to Europe. At first mother was going with him, but though he was well able to afford the additional expense he begrudged it, and, changing his mind, decided to go alone. He sold his ship, settled his affairs, and went off, and for three years he traveled round Europe, visiting every eye-doctor of note in all the big capitals. But it was all no good, and he returned even more soured than he went away. It was during his absence that I was born."

Again Diane paused. This time it was some moments before she proceeded.

"To add to his troubles," she at last resumed, in a low tone, "mother was seriously ill when he got back, and, the day of his return, died in his presence. After that, whatever his disposition was before, it seems to have become a thousand times worse. And when he is angry now he takes a painful delight in discussing the hatred and abhorrence all the people of Kingston held him in, and the hatred and abhorrence he returns to mankind in general. By his own accounts he must have been terrible. However, this has nothing to do with our history.

Personally, I remember nothing but this ranch, but I understand that he tried to resume his old trade in the Indies. For some reason this failed him; trouble occurred, and he gave it up for good, and came out to this country and settled here. Again, to quote his words, 'away from men and things that drove him distracted.' That," she finished up, "is a brief sketch of our history."

"And just such a story as I should imagine your father had behind him.

A most unhappy one," Tresler observed quietly. But he was marveling at the innocence of this child who failed to realize the meaning of "black ivory."

For a little while there was a silence between them, and both sat staring out of the window. At last Diane turned, and when she spoke again there was an ominous quivering of the lips.

"Jack," she said, "I have not told you this without a purpose."

"No, I gathered that, dear," he returned. "And this profound purpose?"

he questioned, smiling.

Her answer was a long time in coming. What she had to do was so hard.

"Father doesn't like you," she said at last in desperation.

Tresler put his pipe aside.

"It doesn't seem to me he likes anybody very much, unless it's Jake.

And I wouldn't bet a pile on the affection between them."

"He likes Jake better than anybody else. At least he trusts him."

"Which is a fair equivalent in his case. But what makes you think he dislikes me more than most people?"

"You remember that night in the kitchen, when you asked me to----"

"Marry? Yes. Could I ever forget it?"

Tresler had taken possession of one of the small hands lying in the girl's lap, but she gently withdrew it.

"I was weeping, and--and you saw the bruises on my arms. Father disapproved of my talking to you----"

"Ah! I understand." And he added, under his breath, "The brute!"

"He says I must give you up."

Tresler was looking straight before him at the window. Now he turned slowly and faced her. His expression conveyed nothing.

"And you?"

"Oh, it is so hard!" Diane burst out, in distress. "And you make it harder. Yes," she went on miserably, "I have to give you up. I must not marry you--dare not----"

"Dare not?"

The question came without the movement of a muscle.

"Yes, he says so. Oh, don't you see? He is blind, and I--I am his only--oh, what am I saying?"

Tresler shook his head.

"I'm afraid you are saying a lot of--nonsense, little woman. And what is more, it is a lot of nonsense I am not going to take seriously. Do I understand that you are going to throw me over simply because he tells you to?"

"Not only because of that."

"Who told him about us?"

"I don't know."

"Never mind. Perhaps I can guess. You have grown tired of me already?"