The Odds Part 7

"Obviously," said the magistrate, dryly. "You needn't say it, thanks all the same. I'll leave that drink till--afterwards."

He straightened his tall figure with an instinctive bracing of the shoulders, and turned to the door.

Jack watched him go with a smile that was not untinged with anxiety, and lifted his gla.s.s as the door closed.

"You've got the cards, old feller," he said. "May you play 'em well!"

Fletcher Hill stepped forth into the moonlit night and stood still. It had been a swift maneuvre on Jack's part, and it might have disconcerted a younger man and driven him into ill-considered action. But it was not this man's nature to act upon impulse. His caution was well known. It had been his safeguard in many a difficulty. It stood him in good stead now.

So for a s.p.a.ce he remained, looking out over the widespread gra.s.slands, his grim face oddly softened and made human. He was no longer an official, but a man, with feelings rendered all the keener for the habitual restraint with which he masked them.

He moved forward at length through the magic moonlight, guided by the sound of trampling hoofs in the building where Jack's horse was stabled.

He reached the doorway, treading softly, and looked in.

Dot was in a stall with his mount Rupert--a powerful grey, beside which she looked even lighter and daintier than usual. The animal was nibbling carelessly at her arm while she filled the manger with hay. She was talking to him softly, and did not perceive Hill's presence. Robin, who sat waiting near the entrance, merely p.r.i.c.ked his ears at his approach.

Some minutes pa.s.sed. Fletcher stood like a sentinel against the doorpost.

He might have been part of it for his immobility. The girl within continued to talk to the horse while she provided for his comfort, low words unintelligible to the silent watcher, till, as she finished her task, she suddenly threw her arms about the animal's neck and leaned her head against it.

"Oh, Rupert," she said, and there was a throb of pa.s.sion in her words, "I wish--I wish you and I could go right away into the wilderness together and never--never come back!"

Rupert turned his head and actually licked her hair. He was a horse of understanding.

She uttered a little sobbing laugh and tenderly kissed his nose. "You're a dear, sympathetic boy! Who taught you to be, I wonder? Not your master, I'm sure! He's nothing but a steel machine all through!"

And then she turned to leave the stable and came upon Fletcher Hill, mutely awaiting her.

CHAPTER IV

THE COAT OF MAIL

She gave a great start at sight of him, then quickly drew herself together.

"You have come to see if Rupert is all right for the night?" she said.

"Go in and have a look at him."

But Fletcher made no movement to enter. He faced her with a certain rigidity. "No. I came to see you--alone."

She made a sharp movement that was almost a gesture of protest. Then she turned and drew the door softly shut behind her. Robin came and pressed close to her, as if he divined that she stood in need of some support.

With her back to the closed door and the moonlight in her eyes, she stood before Fletcher Hill.

"What do you want to say to me?" she said.

He bent slightly towards her. "It is not a specially easy thing, Miss Burton," he said, "when I am more than half convinced that it is something you would rather not hear."

She met his look with unflinching steadiness. "I think life is made up of that sort of thing," she said. "It's like a great puzzle that never fits.

I've been saying--unwelcome things--to-day, too."

She smiled, but her lips were quivering. The man's hands slowly clenched.

"That means you're unhappy," he said.

She nodded. "I've been telling Jack that I must get away--go and earn my own living somewhere. He won't hear of it."

"I can understand that," said Fletcher Hill. "I wouldn't--in his place."

She kept her eyes steadfastly raised to his. "Do you know what Jack wants me to do?" she said.

"Yes." Hill spoke briefly, almost sternly. "He wants you to marry me."

She nodded again. "Yes."

He held out his hand to her abruptly. "I want it, too," he said.

She made no movement towards him. "That is what you came to say?" she asked.

"Yes," said Hill.

He waited a moment; then, as she did not take his hand, bent with a certain mastery and took one of hers.

"I've wanted it for years," he said.

"Ah!" A little sound like a sob came with the words. She made as if she would withdraw her hand, but in the end--because he held it closely--she suffered him to keep it. She spoke with an effort. "I--think you ought to understand that--that--it is not my wish to marry at all. If--if Jack had stayed single, I--should have been content to live on here for always."

"Yes, I know," said Hill. "I saw that."

She went on tremulously. "I've always felt--that a woman ought to be able to manage alone. It's very kind of you to want to marry me. But--but I--I think I'm getting too old."

"Is that the only obstacle?" asked Hill.

She tried to laugh, but it ended in a sound of tears. She turned her face quickly aside. "I can't tell you--of any other," she said, with difficulty, "except--except--"

"Except that you don't like me much?" he suggested dryly. "Well, that doesn't surprise me."

"Oh, I didn't say that!" She choked back her tears and turned back to him. "Let's walk a little way together, shall we? I--I'll try and explain--just how I feel about things."

He moved at once to comply. They walked side by side over the close-cropped gra.s.s. Dot would have slipped her hand free, but still he kept it.

They had traversed some yards before she spoke again, and then her voice was low and studiously even.

"I can't pretend to you that there has never been anyone else. It wouldn't be right. You probably wouldn't believe me if I did."

"Oh, I gathered that a long time ago," Hill said.