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The Red Debt Part 28

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Above that, a pair of round, wondrous eyes--eyes that harbored a depth of unfathomable eloquence--black-fringed, steadfast eyes, of a peculiar deep violet hue, merging into that matchless pigment that tones the blue of a robin's egg. Above that, were exquisitely penciled brows, and then the soft, s.h.i.+ny, raven-black ringlets that rippled beneath the hat.

It was this beautiful Grecian countenance that inspired even the well-bred people about her in the station to pause for a second covert look. They had waited several minutes in the station when Colonel Tennytown's tall figure appeared coming toward them. He apologized contritely for his tardiness, stating that his car had suffered a "blow-out" which had delayed him.

They were whirled along the sh.e.l.l road four miles outside of Lexington to the Colonel's magnificent homestead surrounded by acres of level pasturage and numerous modern out-buildings. As Belle-Ann learned afterward, this estate represented the highest type of a modern stock farm and was one of international repute. Colonel Tennytown's pedigreed horses were periodically s.h.i.+pped abroad.

The Colonel was a gracious and fascinating host. He was a widower and had now in his household his maiden sister a few years his junior. There was no conceivable hospitality these two did not lavish upon their guests. Colonel Tennytown's proud prototype is met frequently throughout Kentucky.

He was tall and of commanding carriage and manner and attired immaculately. He was a polished man whose courtesy was effervescent. He wore the regulation broad-brimmed hat, white moustache and goatee, and while his thin face was florid, it was at once refined and intellectual.



His hobby was horses bred in the purple, but there was an utter absence of horsey vulgarism about him, his very presence irradiating breeding and culture.

It was made convincingly clear, by every look and word and gesture, that the Colonel's stately maiden sister had fallen in love with Belle-Ann at first sight. The house was a great square structure and one could walk around its four sides on a broad, s.p.a.cious porch. A wide hall ran through the center directly to the back. This roomy hall was appointed with ma.s.sive, quaintly carved furniture of colonial design. The walls and ceilings throughout the house were paneled and frescoed in artistic and unique patterns and painted in harmonious tints that indicated taste of the highest order.

In the center of the hall, midway, was stationed a great fountain, some six feet in diameter, where the crystal drops rained down upon myriad fishes and the moss and coral-built submarine castle. Magnificent paintings and various rare statuary subjects and huge palms and foreign plants and flowers abounded on every hand. And the sweet notes of an enraptured mocking-bird came from somewhere mingled with the silvery tinkling melody of unseen music.

Profusely scattered about were pieces of odd furniture, strange bric-a-brac, curious pottery and miniature idols, relics collected from every quarter of the globe. Big Turkish couches and willow rockers and cane sofas with red and green velvet pads, and little upholstered stools and bamboo tables were everywhere. Mammoth gilt-framed mirrors reached from the floor to the ceiling, and the wide doors and windows were draped in various-colored portieres and curtains of silk and velvet in gold brocade.

The great dining room was a spot that awed Belle-Ann with its intrinsic resplendence. The mahogany and the dazzling array of silver and mirrors and prismed chandeliers and greenery held this demure mountain girl entranced. She caught herself wondering what Lem would say, if he could look in upon her at this moment, and behold her dressed in "Blue-gra.s.s style," being entertained in this mystic realm of a grandee, the opulence of which even her own active fancy had never pictured.

After luncheon, the Colonel conducted his visitors to the stables where he pridefully exhibited a hundred or more blooded horses. Straggling groups of horses and colts were observable grazing in the rank pastures that stretched beyond as far as the eye could reach.

While en route through the stables, Belle-Ann thoughtlessly gave the party a scare. Colonel Tennytown had directed a hostler who followed the party to bring out a sorrel gelding of which he was especially proud.

All of the compartments for the animals on one side were box-stalls.

Before the man had time to bring forth the gelding, Belle-Ann noted an extra-high compartment built of heavy oak boards with an iron gate.

Attracted by this, she stepped away from the others to see what this strong box-stall contained.

The girl beheld a most magnificent black stallion. An ardent lover of horses and naturally fearless, she was so delighted at sight of this proud, silken-coated animal, that she drew the iron pin and slipped inside with the horse. The animal stood for a moment as though deeply and curiously surprised at this effrontery. Then his fire-rimmed eyes flashed. His little ears lay flat to his head. With a snort, he started toward her. Belle-Ann advanced a step to meet him, and at sound of her voice the great beast paused and p.r.i.c.ked up his ears. Talking to him the while, the girl walked unhesitatingly over to him and laid a hand gently upon his ma.s.sive neck. The feel of his satiny body pulsing with salient power was a joy to Belle-Ann. The stallion nosed her clothing with mild little snorts. With soothing, coined horse-words, the girl ran her hand over him. She then lay one hand on his back and with the other slapped his side playfully. To this ticklish overture the horse responded instantly.

He reared on his hind legs. He clashed his bared teeth, he plunged, pawed the straw, and kicked and squealed. Belle-Ann stood perfectly still and laughed outright at his antics. Then the animal threw his ears back and his fore feet in the air and lunged toward her, only to pluck at her sleeve with his rough lips and push her gently with his shoulder, taking care not to tread upon her feet.

The sorrel gelding had been brought out and the Colonel was deeply engrossed in rehearsing his pedigree to Miss Worth and did not at the moment notice Belle-Ann's absence. The girl had her arms about the stallion's head and was smilingly engaged in scratching his ears, when Colonel Tennytown's white face appeared at the iron gate of the box-stall, together with that of the scared, shaky hostler.

"Come out--come out!" importuned the Colonel in hoa.r.s.e, unsteady tones.

Through the thick boards Belle-Ann heard Miss Worth's appeal.

"Belle-Ann! Belle-Ann! come out of there, dear--this instant--do, please."

The horse, catching sight of the faces at the gate, jumped forward, wheeled like a flash, and lashed out with his heels, striking the gate a terrific whack with both feet. The gate, which opened inward, clashed against its iron sleeper with a frightful noise. The horse then returned to Belle-Ann's side and lowered his head for her to resume the scratching process.

"For G.o.d's sake, Miss Benson, I beg of you to come out," called the distressed Colonel. Then Belle-Ann stepped safely and serenely without.

Miss Worth, who knew the stallion's reputation, stood with hands gripping each other tensely and with averted, pallid face. The hostler was quaking visibly, and the Colonel seized her arm as though rescuing a drowning person.

"Miss Benson," said the Colonel, "I implore you never to do that again,--please, never, never go near that gate."

"My dear," spoke up Miss Worth, "I shall have to hold you by the hand until I get you out of here. Whatever prompted you to go in with that vicious horse?"

The hostler mumbled to himself:

"I'll sho' slap er padlock on dat hoss 'fore sun-down."

"Why," said Belle-Ann laughingly, "you-all talk as though he were a big tiger instead of a big, beautiful horse--I love him."

"Ponce is the meanest horse I have ever owned," interjected the Colonel.

"I would not dare go in to him. If it were not for for his strain, I would have gotten rid of him long ago--he killed a hostler last summer.

The men have to feed him through a trap door--the men could not be induced to go in to him as you did, Miss Benson. They have to rope him from both sides to lead him. He not only kicks, but he fights with his fore feet and bites like a dog. You have had a narrow escape, I a.s.sure you, dear Miss Benson. How happy I am that you were not hurt."

"Why, Colonel Tennytown," interrupted the girl, "he was only playing with me--why I can go in thah now and make him walk around on his hind legs."

"Tut-tut! No you can't, my dear," interposed the Colonel monitively, "not while we are here to watch you, I a.s.sure you."

"Oh, I would love to ride him--may I ride him some time, Colonel?" she persisted laughingly.

"It pains me deeply to refuse you any request--I have any number of others you may ride, but never Ponce," he declared emphatically.

After dinner it developed that there was plainly a conspiracy afoot to have Belle-Ann sing. Without the slightest demur or embarra.s.sment the girl took her stand beside the piano while Miss Worth played the accompaniment. She sang an excerpt from Il Trovatore which Miss Worth had taught her with infinite care. The voice held the listeners spellbound.

When her last lingering notes had swelled and died away, the Colonel's sister hurried to her with profuse praises that were plainly sincere and kissed her cheek. The Colonel strode to her side and pressed her hand, and Miss Worth beamed upon her.

As dusk approached, the visitors climbed into the big limousine en route to the train, and rolled through the richest plateau in the world, flooded with the erubescent splendor of a setting sun. At the station Colonel Tennytown carried the handbags into the Pullman, and here he lingered until he heard the hiss of the reservoir that released the car brakes. With his farewell, he lifted Belle-Ann's white soft hand, and slipped a ring on her finger. Concealing it under his own hand, he said:

"It is there with a wish which I hope will come true," and he hurried out and away. As the train pulled out, the lights were turned on in the car, and Belle-Ann was holding one hand up before two pairs of admiring eyes. It was a marquis ring with an oval turquoise in the center, hemmed with eight rubies and bordered with ten beautifully cut diamonds. And as Belle-Ann gazed at this lovely present, her violet eyes emulated the sparkling l.u.s.tre of the ring.

CHAPTER XXV

KNOW YE THE TRUTH

That night Belle-Ann indited a letter to her father, dwelling upon the kindness of Miss Worth, who had proposed to give her a higher education.

She told of her delightful visit to Lexington and of the beautiful present Colonel Tennytown had given to her. She asked again, as she always did, if he had heard anything from Lem.

She also ventured another letter to Lem. During the past winter she had written several letters to him; as yet, she had received no answer to these. However, she supposed they were still uncalled for. She knew that Lem could write sufficiently legible for her to decipher it, but she also remembered the fact that the nearest post-office was thirty miles distant from Moon mountain. Moreover, she knew Lem was not accustomed to visiting Junction City, because he never received any mail, and because the denizens of Junction City were rank sympathizers with the McGill faction.

And always she yearned for sight of Lem's honest face. Not a day pa.s.sed but what she cherished thoughts of home. When she was apparently in her gayest mood, Lem's tall shadow stood in the background waiting for her--always waiting. While occupied in her tensest study hours, down in her subconsciousness lay a memory that stirred like a thing having life.

And ever more overshadowing this dominating vision of Lem Lutts was the haunting presence of the revenuer. From her waking hours these thoughts trailed into the night to pollute her dreams and, not infrequently, pilfer her sleep away.

Oft times, in the presence of others, she would abruptly lower her book or suspend anything at hand, only to come out of an ill reverie, to find her eyes fixed blankly at nothing, and her lip in the grip of her upper teeth. These uncontrollable abstractions had caused her many embarra.s.sments and had grown upon her, as the months slipped by, instead of diminis.h.i.+ng.

Now that she stood on the threshold of a new life, a mystic, fascinating world, the vague dreams of which had gesticulated and beckoned to her childish fancy in the hills, foretelling its beautiful emoluments of which she now had dazzling, palpitating glimpses--she was dismayed at her own disquietude. She had made very many dear friends. She had an array of beautiful clothes. She was forgivably conscious, without vanity, that she was an unusually beautiful girl. The refinements of education for which she had an inbred craving were filtering into her brain with the mellow, rich residue of a rare wine. The whole atmosphere that enveloped her was charged with all the pedagogic influences and wholesome blithesomeness calculated to inspire a girl of her temperament to utter happiness.

But Belle-Ann was not happy. The fear that had eroded its path into her being stood over her young life to menace and alloy every new-born pleasure. Her soul trembled now lest the revenuer had killed Lem instead. Then her life would not only be broken, but the revenuer would still live on to project his hated shadow across her heart, and her agony would go on and on with another and more potential impetus.

When the human heart throbs against the barbs of an eating agony through a measure of years, there comes a time when the soul staggers and cries out.

One night Miss Worth awoke and following a habit, she got up and slipped across the hall, bent on seeing if Belle-Ann were sitting up in bed with her books, as was her wont.

She opened the door softly. As there was no light in the girl's room, she was about to close the door and go to bed when she caught a sound that half startled her. Quickly and noiselessly she stepped over the threshold. A shaft of moonlight fell athwart the bed. It was empty. She cast a searching glance about the room. At the window-seat she saw a ma.s.s of black curls above the white of a night robe.

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The Red Debt Part 28 summary

You're reading The Red Debt. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Everett MacDonald. Already has 578 views.

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