The Pursuit Part 38

"I know now that you are a gentleman," she said simply. "I realize, too, that Landon is--is monstrous, wickedness incarnate, beyond the reach of human feeling, completely vile. I think," she hesitated, "I think he must have concentrated within himself every evil influence that has fallen upon his family, to leave you--" again she faltered, as if she struggled with a compelling power, not as if a word or phrase escaped her--"to leave you--_stainless_," she sighed with an inflection that seemed to tell of something reluctant in the effort.

For a moment he was silent. Then the color flamed to his face; the light of incredulity woke in his eyes.

"Then I start now with every handicap cleared away?" he asked quickly.

"You see me--as other men?"

She turned and looked at him. She smiled a little wearily.

"No," she said quietly. "Not as other men."

He drew a deep breath.

"Claire," he said very quietly, "a month ago I came first into your life. Fate brought me to you, to earn, and then to resent, your unexplained hatred. When I understood it, I swore to myself that I would make you--just. That, then, is a task accomplished."

Was this sudden intimate use of her Christian name unconscious or was it premeditated? She made no comment; she only bowed her a.s.sent.

"That was no personal decision," went on Aylmer. "I did it as a duty--to all who bore my name. The personal factor came afterwards, but so soon afterwards that I can scarcely tell you when the one merged in the other. I loved you; did you understand that?"

And now it was her turn to flush and wince. But was it wincing? The pulse which throbbed through her--was it truly resentment? A sense of sudden bewilderment came over her--a bewilderment which sought refuge, at first, in silence.

"You--you almost threatened me," she allowed at last, with the ghost of a tiny smile. "And I am not accustomed to threats. They--they made me angry."

"Yes, but you understood!" he cried. "You understood what I sought and for what reward?"

There was something masterful, triumphant in his tone which grated on her instincts, a reaction to the days when all he said and did grated upon her. And it helped her to regain command of herself, to s.n.a.t.c.h herself from the brink to which she was drifting.

"I hoped I misunderstood," she said coolly. "For it was a liberty. At the time I considered it an insult."

She did not look at him, but she heard the quick intake of his breath.

And the sudden pain in his voice smote her with remorse.

"As an insult it is atoned?" he asked. "Does it remain a liberty still?"

She turned her eyes to his, and he looked up to know his opportunity there, and could not grasp it. He lay a prisoner at her feet. If he had been free, if his arms had been about her, if he had used his man's strength and mastery to take and hold her, if opportunity had not mocked him, would he have won? Fate knows, but fate was smiling then. And the history of man and maid from all ages is with us. Yes, he would have won; he would have won.

She gave a tiny gasp, and then the fugitive instinct, the primeval resort to flight, was upon her. She sent opportunity packing with her reply.

"I am here, by my own choice, with you--alone," she reminded him. "A liberty may become a question of--circ.u.mstance."

He flushed hotly, and again remorse gripped her as she saw the haggard lines draw in about his eyes.

"I can only ask your pardon," he answered. "I ask it, humbly and contritely." He gave a wry little smile. "And perhaps circ.u.mstance is to blame, after all."

Opportunity halted in her flight, hesitated, gave a returning step towards beckoning remorse. There was a shuffling sound at the door of the lazaret, and opportunity wheeled and fled.

"Let me in!" said a childish voice impatiently. "It's me! It's me! Let me in!"

The girl started forward.

"John!" she cried. "Little John! Find the bolt! It's your side of the door!"

The shuffling, scrabbling sound continued. An impatient foot kicked the panel. And then suddenly, creakingly, the door flew back. The child pranced gaily over the threshold.

"I just kicked, so!" he explained, "and it flew in! I did not know there was a cupboard here." He gave a shrill little shout of amazement and capered towards Aylmer. "It's the pig man!" he cried. "The pig man!"

Claire's arms closed about him and s.n.a.t.c.hed him to her.

"Oh, John--Little John!" she whispered fiercely. "Aren't you glad to see me, _me_?"

He held his face back from her for an instant and looked at her appraisingly.

"Yes," he said meditatively. "But you aren't come to make me wear clean things again? Muhammed doesn't."

And then he wriggled energetically, his eyes on Aylmer.

"Is he hurted?" he asked anxiously. "He was hurted once, last time I saw him. Why have they wrapped up his hands?"

A sudden gleam shone on Aylmer's face. He held out the pinioned wrists.

"Could you unknot them, old boy?" he asked quickly. "Would you like to try?"

She gave him a glance of comprehension and let the child go. He leaned down over Aylmer and his little fingers picked at the cords. He pulled at first unavailingly. Aylmer gave low-voiced suggestions, showed which knot should be dealt with first. Claire, as she watched, put out a hand instinctively to help.

He smiled, but s.n.a.t.c.hed his wrists away.

"You forget," he said quietly.

She drew back.

"Yes," she said. "I forgot," and a flame of unreasoning anger burned in her. Landon fought with any weapon he chose to forge--a lie had ever been the easiest to his hand. And they? They must not touch the fringe of disloyalty; even with him they had to keep perfect faith. Her feminine perceptions revolted; this was too rigid for her woman's mind.

If she had forgotten, for a moment, her promise, why should he not avail himself of the slip, which was hers alone? And then she smiled. Had he not gone up in her estimation another step? Yes, and she smiled again; how long ago was it since she, who now looked up at him, had from so very great a height of condescension and dislike, looked down?

Suddenly the child gave a little squeal of triumph.

"There!" he cried. "You pull your hands--so! Then I pull so!" And shouted again, for the lashings which lay upon the parted wrists lay now loosely, in loops which dangled on the floor.

And then, as anger had seized upon her, so did fear. She looked at him with suddenly apprehensive eyes.

"You will do--what?" she asked tremulously. Her imagination pictured half a dozen dangers in as many seconds, all lurking to overwhelm a too reckless freedom.

He smiled.

"For the moment I dissemble, and wait," he said, and sat down quietly to loop anew the cords about his arms, but in running loops, this time--knots which would give before one well-directed pull.

CHAPTER XIX