The Unknown Wrestler Part 18

"What can Ben do?" It was a woman who asked the question. "He was given the chance to fight it out there and then, but he acted like a fool."

"Ha, ha, Ben was cornered for once to-night. It needed a stranger to bring him to his senses."

"Who is that man, anyway? I liked the way he behaved, and his playing was so nice."

Douglas could not hear what the man said in reply, though he longed to know. It gave him a degree of comfort, however, to feel that all did not blame him for the disturbance at the hall. He knew how necessary it was to win the good will of the people in general if he expected to work among them in the future.

For some time he sat there, and then continued on his way. He had just reached the foot of the hill when he saw some one coming toward him.

Soon he was able to recognise the form of Joe Benton, the shoemaker.

"You are out late to-night," Douglas accosted. "You seem to be in a great hurry. Is anything wrong?"

Joe came up close and looked keenly into the young man's face.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" he panted. "Have you seen anything of my la.s.s?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"No?" There was something so pathetic about the way that single word was uttered, that Douglas' heart ached for the old man.

"When did she leave home?" he asked.

"Just after supper."

"Oh, she'll come back all right, never fear."

"Ah, but Jean's so changed," and Joe clutched Douglas by the arm.

"She's not what she used to be. Before she went to the city I had no fear about her not coming home in proper time. But now it is different. There's something troubling the la.s.s, and I believe her mind is affected. Oh, it is terrible!"

"Has she told you anything?"

"No, not a word. It's not like Jean. She used to tell us everything.

She was a child then; but now--Lord have mercy upon her!"

As Douglas stood there watching the heart-broken old man, a sudden idea flashed into his mind. Had he really seen Jean? Was it her face he had beheld at the hall door? Yes, he felt almost certain that it was she, the same woman he had rescued from the water of the harbour. But what should he do? Dare he tell Joe all about it, and how Ben Stubbles had tried to destroy her?

As he thought over these things, the shoemaker was standing looking out over the fields. Only by the light of the moon could Douglas see his face, and he noticed that it was very haggard. But he could not see the fire of anger which was kindling in his eyes. Only when the bent form straightened itself with a jerk, and a tense arm was thrust out, did he fully realise the greatness of his emotion.

"My Jean is not to blame," he cried. "She is as innocent as a child.

Some villain has injured her, and I must find him. And when I do----"

"You will forgive him," Douglas added, as Joe paused for lack of suitable words to express his wrath.

"Forgive him! Why should I forgive a man who has ruined my la.s.s?"

"Because you are so bidden by the Great Master."

Joe looked quickly up into his companion's face, and his body somewhat relaxed.

"But did he ever suffer like this?" he questioned.

"Surely you know what he endured."

"Ay, ay, I have read it all. But look, I could bear all that easier than this. I could stand to have my body torn to pieces bit by bit rather than see my darling child, my baby, injured. Was His suffering anything like mine?"

"'G.o.d so loved the world that he gave his only Begotten Son,'" Douglas quoted. "Have you forgotten what He said?"

Joe made no reply. A great struggle was going on in his heart between right and wrong, and Douglas pitied him. Just then the sound of some one hurrying across the field diverted their attention. In a moment Empty had leaped the fence and stopped suddenly before them. He was startled to see the two men standing there, and peered intently into their faces.

"Gee!" he exclaimed. "Ye nearly jolted me to slivers."

"Empty, have you seen my Jean?" Joe eagerly enquired.

"Sure. She's out on the hills. I was jist hustlin' to tell ye."

"On the hills!" Joe repeated. "What is she doing but there?"

"Search me! I don't know what she's doin' there, an' I guess she doesn't."

"W-what do you mean?" There was an anxious note in the old man's voice.

"Well, she's been wanderin' round there fer some time now, talkin' to herself strange like, an' singin'. She gives me the shivers, that's what she does. It ain't nat'ral fer Jean to be actin' that way. Ye'd better come an' see fer yerself."

Silently the two men followed Empty across the field, and up the side of a hill. At the top was a fence, and as they came to this, Empty paused and peered cautiously through the rails, and held up a warning finger.

"S-s-h," he whispered. "There she is now. Ye kin jist see her. She's comin' this way. Listen; she's singin'!"

This hill had been used as a sheep pasture for many years. It was a desolate place, devoid of trees, and full of stones. Looking across this barren waste, Douglas was soon able to detect the form of a woman silhouetted against the sky. Yes, she was singing, and he was able to recognise the words:

"Truer love can never be; Will ye no come back to me?"

Joe could now restrain himself no longer. With the cry of "Jean!

Jean!" he scrambled over the fence, and made straight for the advancing woman. Empty was about to follow, when Douglas laid a firm hand upon his arm and drew him back.

"Don't go yet," he ordered. "It's better for us to keep out of sight for a while. Her father can do more than we can, and our presence might frighten her."

Joe's cry had startled Jean and she stopped singing. Seeing him coming toward her, she stood for a few seconds watching him. Then she turned and fled along the path she had recently travelled, and disappeared among the rocks.

Then it was that Douglas leaped over the fence and hastened forward, with Empty close at his heels. For a few minutes he was guided by Joe's voice as he called to his daughter. Then all was silent, and though he and Empty searched long and patiently, they could not find the missing ones.

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" Empty e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed, as he sat down upon a rock to rest. "I can't make out what has happened to 'em. Guess it's not much use huntin' any more. We'd better go home now an' git somethin'

to eat. I'm most starved."

Douglas realised that it would be useless to search any longer just then. He would go with Empty, wait at his place until daybreak, and then return if Joe did not reappear.

The house to which Empty led him was a humble one. A woman was standing at the door as they approached.