The Silver Horde Part 65

"What do you mean by that?" asked Mr. Wayland.

"The Father say if white man take Indian woman and don' marry her, she go to h.e.l.l for thousan' year--mebbe two, three thousan' year. Anyhow, she don' never see Jesus' House. That's bad thing!" The breed shook his head seriously. "Chakawana she's good girl, and she go to church; I give money to the pries' too, plenty money every time, but he says that's no good-- she's got to be marry or she'll burn for always with little baby. By G.o.d!

that's make her scare', because little baby ain't do nothing to burn that way. Mr. Marsh he say it's all d.a.m.n lie, and he don't care if little baby do go to h.e.l.l. You hear that? He don't care for little baby."

Constantine's eyes were full of tears as he strove laboriously to voice his religious teachings. He went on with growing agitation:

"Chakawana she's mighty scare' of that bad place. and she ask Mr. Marsh again to marry her, but he beat her. That's when I try to kill him. Mebbe Mr. Emerson ain't come so quick, Mr. Marsh go to h.e.l.l himself."

Wayne Wayland turned upon Marsh.

"Why don't you say something?"

"I told you the brat isn't mine!" he cried. "If it isn't Emerson's, it's Cherry Malotte's. They want money, but I won't be bled."

"You marry my sister?" asked Constantine.

"No!" snarled Willis Marsh. "You can all go to h.e.l.l and take the child with you--"

Without a single warning cry, the breed lunged swiftly; the others saw something gleam in his hand. Emerson jumped for him, and the three men went to the deck in a writhing tangle, sending the furniture spinning before them. Mildred screamed, the sailors rushed forward, pushing her aside and blotting out her view. The sudden violence of the a.s.sault had frightened her nearly out of her senses. She fled to her father, striving to hide her face against his breast, but something drew her eyes back to the spot where the men were clinched. She heard Boyd Emerson cry to the sailors:

"Get out of the way! I've got him!" Then saw him locked in the Indian's arms. They had gained their feet now, and spun backward, bringing up against the yacht's cabin with a crash of shivering gla.s.s. A knife, wrenched from the breed's grasp, went whirling over the side into the sea.

Cherry Malotte ran forward, and at her voice the savage ceased his struggles.

Wayne Wayland loosed his daughter's hold and thrust his way in among the sailors, kneeling beside the man he had chosen for his son-in-law. Emerson joined him, then rose quickly, crying:

"Is there a doctor among your party?"

"Doctor Berry! Send for Berry! He's gone ash.o.r.e!" exclaimed Mr. Wayland.

"Quick! Somebody fetch Doctor Berry!" Boyd directed.

As the sailors drew apart, Mildred Wayland saw a sight that made her grow deathly faint and close her eyes. Turning, she fled blindly into the cabin. A few moments later Emerson found her stretched unconscious at the head of the main stairs, with a hysterical French maid sobbing over her.

CHAPTER XXVII

AND A DREAM COMES TRUE

For nearly an hour Boyd Emerson sat alone on the deck of _The Grande Dame_, a prey to conflicting emotions, the while he waited for Mildred to appear. There was no one to dispute his presence now, for the tourists who had followed Doctor Berry from the sh.o.r.e in hushed excitement avoided him, and the sailors made no effort to carry out their earlier instructions; hence he was allowed opportunity to adjust himself to the sudden change. It was not so much the unexpected downfall of Willis Marsh, and the new light thus thrown upon his own enterprise that upset him, as a puzzling alteration in his own purposes and inclinations. He had come out to the yacht defiantly, to make good his threat, and to force an understanding with Mildred Wayland, but now that he was here and his way made easy he began to question his own desires. Now that he thought about it, that note, instead of filling him with dismay, had rather left him relieved. It was as if he had been freed of a burden, and this caused him a vague uneasiness. Was it because he was tired by the struggle for this girl, for whom he had labored so faithfully? After three years of unflagging devotion, was he truly relieved to have her dismiss him? Or was it that here, in this primal country, stripped of all conventions, he saw her and himself in a new light? He did not know.

The late twilight was fading when Mildred came from her state-room. She found Boyd pacing the deck, a cigar between his teeth.

"Where are those people?" she inquired.

"They went ash.o.r.e. Marsh doesn't care to press a charge against the Indian."

"I hear he is not badly hurt, after all."

"That is true. But it was a close shave."

Mildred shuddered. "It was horrible!"

"I never dreamed that Constantine would do such a thing, but he is more Russian than Aleut, and both he and his sister are completely under the spell of the priest. They are intensely religious, and their idea of d.a.m.nation is very vivid."

"Have you seen father?"

"We had a short talk."

"Did you make up?"

"No! But I think he is beginning to understand things better--at least, as far as Marsh is concerned. The rest is only a matter of time."

"What a frightful situation! Why did you ever let father announce my engagement to that man?"

Emerson gazed at her in astonishment. "I? Pardon me--how could I help it?"

"You might have avoided quarrelling with him. I think you are very inconsiderate of me."

Boyd regarded the coal of his cigar with a slight gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt in his eyes as she ran on:

"Even that woman took occasion to humiliate me in the worst possible way."

"It strikes me that she did you a very great service. I have no doubt it was quite as distasteful to her as to you."

"Absurd! It was her chance for revenge, and she rejoiced in making me ridiculous."

"Then it is the first ign.o.ble thing I ever knew her to do," said Boyd, slowly. "She has helped me in a hundred ways. Without her a.s.sistance, I could never have won through. That cannery site would still be grown up to moss and trees, and I would still be a disheartened dreamer."

"It's very nice of you, of course, to appreciate what she has done. But she can't help you any more. You surely don't intend to keep up your acquaintance with her now." He made no reply, and, taking his silence for agreement, she went on: "The trip home will be terribly dull for me, I'm afraid. I think--yes, I shall have father ask you to go back with us."

"But I am right in the midst of the run. I can't leave the business."

"Oh, business! Do you care more for business than for me? I don't think you realize how terribly hard for me all this has been--I'm still frightened. I shall die of nervousness without some one to talk to."

"It's quite impossible! I--don't want to go back now."

"Indeed? And no doubt it was impossible for you to come out here last night for the same reason."

"It was. The fish struck in, and I could not leave."

"It was that woman who kept you!" cried Mildred. "It is because of her that you refuse to leave this country!"