The Sins of the Father Part 99

"Oh, Tom, dear, am I not your wife?" the boy's head drooped--"must you have a secret from me now?"

"Just a few minutes," Norton pleaded, "that's a good girl!"

"Only a few minutes, Helen," Tom urged.

"Please let me stay. Why were you both so pale when I came in?"

Father and son glanced at each other over her head. Norton hesitated and said:

"You see we are perfectly calm now. All bitterness is gone from our hearts.

We are father and son again."

"Why do you look so queerly at me? Why do you look so strangely at each other?"

"It's only your imagination, dear," Tom said.

"No, there's something wrong," Helen declared desperately. "I feel it in the air of this room--in the strange silence between you. For G.o.d's sake tell me what it means! Surely, I have the right to know"--she turned suddenly to Norton--"You don't hate me now, do you, major?"

The somber brown eyes rested on her in a moment of intense silence and he slowly said:

"I have never hated you, my child!"

"Then what is it?" she cried in anguish, turning again to Tom. "Tell me what I can do to help you! I'll obey you, dearest, even if it's to lay my life down. Don't send me away. Don't keep this secret from me. I feel its chill in my heart. My place is by your side--tell me how I can help you!"

Tom looked at her intently:

"You say that you will obey me?"

"Yes--you are my lord and master!"

He seized her hand and led her to the door

"Then wait for me just five minutes."

She lifted her head pleadingly:

"You will let me come to you then?"

"Yes."

"You won't lock the door again?"

"Not now."

While Tom stood immovable, with a lingering look of tenderness she turned and pa.s.sed quickly from the room.

He closed the door softly, steadied himself before loosing the k.n.o.b and turned to his father in a burst of sudden rebellion:

"Oh, Dad! It can't be true! It can't be true! I can't believe it. Did you look at her closely again?"

Norton drew himself wearily to his feet and spoke with despairing certainty:

"Yes, yes, as I've looked at her a hundred times with growing wonder."

"She's not like you----"

"No more than you, my boy, and yet you're bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh--it can't be helped----"

He paused and pointed to the revolver:

"Give it to me!"

The boy started to lift the cloth and the father caught his arm:

"But first--before you do," he faltered. "I want you to tell me now with your own lips that you forgive me for what I must do--and then I think, perhaps, I can--say it!"

Their eyes met in a long, tender, searching gaze:

"I forgive you," he softly murmured.

"Now give it to me!" the father firmly said, stepping back and lifting his form erect.

The boy felt for the table, fumbled at the cloth, caught the weapon and slowly lifted it toward his father's extended hand. He opened his eyes, caught the expression of agony in the drawn face, the fingers relaxed and the pistol fell to the floor. He threw himself blindly on his father, his arms about his neck:

"Oh, Dad, it's too hard! Wait--wait--just a moment!"

The father held him close for a long while. His voice was very low when he spoke at last:

"There's no appeal, my boy! The sin of your father is full grown and has brought forth death. Yet I was not all to blame. We are caught to-night in the grip of the sins of centuries. I tried to give my life to the people to save the children of the future. My shame showed me the way as few men could have seen it, and I have set in motion forces that can never be stopped. Others will complete the work that I have begun. But our time has come----"

"Yes, yes, I understand!"

The father's arms pressed the son in a last long embrace:

"What an end to all my hopes! Oh, my boy, heart of my heart!"

Tom's hand slowly slipped down and caught his father's:

"Good-by, Dad!"

Norton held the clasp with lingering tenderness as the boy slowly drew away, measured four steps and calmly folded his arms, his head erect, his broad young shoulders squared and thrown far back.

Cleo, who had crept into the hall, stood behind the curtains of the inner door watching the scene with blanched face.

The father walked quickly to the revolver, picked it up, turned and lifted it above his head.

With a smothered cry Cleo sprang into the room--but she was too late.

Norton had quickly dropped the pistol to the level of the eye and fired.