The Ramrodders Part 50

"That's a lie, Mr. Thornton!"

"It's the truth. He'll marry her if you haven't spoiled it all for him--spoiled his good name and stirred up all this scandal for him just as he was getting ready to amount to something in the world, with a wife that could help him! You get away from here as quickly as you can. You hear me? If his career is spoiled you've done it. Don't stay around here and disgrace him any more. It's bad enough, as it is, for him and Miss Presson!"

She stared at him, stricken and puzzled. Then she left him.

"I don't need any further escort," she informed him, turning after she had gone a few steps. It was Dennis Kavanagh's girl speaking now. "I have been escorted by the Thorntons quite enough during the past ten minutes. I tell you again, I believe you lie. But I propose to understand something more about this--and I'll not disgrace you nor your grandson!"

"Go ask some questions!" he called after her. He felt sure that gossip would confirm him. But to make sure that Harlan did not follow her and find her and discredit gossip he turned back down the corridor purposing to keep that belligerent young man under watch and ward for a time.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE WAY OF A MAID WITH A MAID

The Duke found his grandson in an anteroom where the half dozen excited, wondering men had conveyed him.

The old man and the young man stood for a few moments and gazed at each other. Harlan was breathless, disheveled, his knuckles were bleeding.

"Where is she?"

The Duke came close to him. "She went away. Now keep your mouth closed.

You talk about disgracing a girl," he muttered in his grandson's ear; "if you haven't disgraced her and yourself and all of us here to-day it isn't because you haven't done your best! G.o.d only knows why I didn't leave you in the woods where you belong!"

"I'm going out to find her," insisted his grandson. "This is my own business from now on."

"You try to leave this room in the shape you're in and I'll have you committed to the insane asylum across the river. The girl has more sense than you've got."

While he was speaking Presson came in. He pulled the House bill from his pocket.

"Thornton," he said, walking up to Harlan, "I didn't think there could be anything more important just now than the d.a.m.nable performance you've just been through and the part my family plays in it. But here's something I propose to take while it's hot!" He shook the doc.u.ment at the young man. Harlan swept it out of his grasp before he could prevent, and b.u.t.toned it in his breast-pocket.

"That is mine," he stated, not flinching under the indignant protest.

"If it's yours will you inform me what you intend to do with it?"

"I intend to introduce it in the House at to-morrow's session and work for its pa.s.sage."

"He's got a bill there," roared the chairman, turning to the Duke, "that's written by the Devil himself! It makes old Waymouth archfiend of all the ramrodders in this State! Our sheriffs are made his deputies and the Russian Tsar becomes a hog-reeve beside him." He blurted out the purport of the measure, garnishing the recital with good, round oaths.

"So you're loaded with that, are you?" inquired the elder Thornton. He was as careless of the presence of the listeners as the chairman had been. He began invective, but the young man broke in.

"Grandfather," he said, firmly, "I've listened long enough to that kind of talk from you and Mr. Presson--I've listened to all kinds of reasons why a man should come here and sell his soul for the sake of getting ahead in politics." He was thinking of the temptation that had come to him in the form of Madeleine Presson. "I don't want any more of it. I don't know of any reason why this State shouldn't obey its laws so long as they remain laws. As to my private business, I suggest that the two of you keep still."

They had no appet.i.te for further discourse with this young madman just then.

The Duke turned on his heel and walked out. Presson followed.

"Gentlemen," said the young man to those who remained, "I have no quarrel with you. I do not want any. Do you understand?" He wiped his hands with his handkerchief, smoothed his hair, and walked past them.

As calmly as he could he hurried through the lobbies and the rotunda of the State House. The crowds were thinning. The band had gone. The women had scattered to prepare for the ball of the evening. Among the few that were left he could not find her.

He went back to his committee-room and pondered until dusk fell.

One matter presented itself to his mood as a duty. He called a carriage and was driven to the Presson home.

Madeleine came down in answer to his card. But as she entered the reception-room her father followed at her heels, beginning threats as he came in.

"Father," she said, quietly, "I have just listened to you. You need not fear that I do not understand myself and my duty. I ask you to retire."

He stood there a moment, still muttering his wrathful protest, but in the end her dignity mastered him. He went away.

What she did next amazed the young man who stood there waiting. She came to him and patted his cheek.

"My poor boy," she said, softly, and drew him down beside her on a couch.

For a moment the words he had come prepared to say deserted him. He could not speak. He found sincere compa.s.sion in her eyes--sympathy and something else which he did not fathom.

"I can do at least one decent thing to-day," he burst out. "I can come to you man-fashion and ask you to release me from our engagement of this evening. I know, of course, you wouldn't go to the ball with me after what has happened. But there's a deeper reason. I am going to tell it to you. Don't misunderstand me. I don't know the right words to use. Any way I put it may sound as though I were a cad. But understand me, Madeleine--as my friend, understand me--for G.o.d's sake, do! You have been wise. You have counselled me. I need a friend now!" His voice broke, and she waited. "I've come to my senses. Oh, it's no discredit to you that I thought I loved you. I thought so."

"Your love would honor any woman, Harlan."

He looked at her piteously. He understood how his confession would sound. Only his resolve to be honest with her availed to drive him to the confession he intended to make.

"I couldn't say it to some girls," he cried. "They would not see how it was. But I can only tell you the truth!"

"Wait a moment," she said, interrupting. "You are not just yourself. Let me talk to you. Only a little while ago a girl came to me."

He started up, but she restrained him.

"Listen! She had heard. There were plenty to tell her when she asked. We have given occasion for gossip. Gossip has eyes and ears and good imagination. It has even been reported that our engagement would be announced after the legislative ball. Wait! She heard all that from the first one she asked. She has told me so. She believes it!"

"Believes it! What did you tell her?"

"Wait, I say! I have shown patience this afternoon. I waited for her to speak. Let me tell you what she said while I waited. She said she wanted you to be a great man. She knew, so she told me, that she only brought trouble and distress to you. She wanted to see me so that she might know if I were the one who could help you in your career. I'll not tell you what she said to me about myself. She is a sweet and gracious girl, that little Clare, Harlan! She said she knew I could help you in your work in life. And she wanted to tell me the little story of you two--she wanted to forestall gossip that might hurt you in my eyes. And she gave you to me. Harlan, I have heard of that kind of love--but I didn't believe it existed. Did you?"

Tears were on his cheeks.

"I know her!" he choked.

She understood his answer. She waited a little while.

"And I love her above all the honors and treasures of this world!"

She stood up.