The Definite Object Part 88

"Geoffrey, dear, this world is a very bad world for a lonely girl, and sometimes a very hateful world, and I have been lonely nearly all my life--and I didn't think there were such men as you; I didn't think any man could love so unselfishly. All my life I shall--treasure the recollection of this hour--yes, always! always!"

Then she turned and, ere he knew, was on her knees before him, had twined soft arms about his neck, and was looking up at him through s.h.i.+ning tears.

"Yes, I'm--crying a little! I don't do it often, dear--tears don't easily come with me. But now I'm crying because--oh, because I'm so proud--so proud to have won such a wonderful love. Good night--good night! Oh, break your word for once--kiss me, my husband!"

So while she knelt to him thus, he kissed her until she sighed and stirred in his embrace. Then she rose and hand in hand they crossed the room and he opened the door; for a blissful moment they stood there silent in the shadows, but when he would have kissed her again she laughed at him through her tears and fled from him up the wide stairway.

CHAPTER XLIII

HOW SPIKE GOT EVEN

A clock in the hall without struck midnight, but Ravenslee sat on long after the silvery chime had died away, his chin sunk on broad chest, his eyes staring blindly at the fading embers, lost in profound but joyful meditation; once he turned to look where she had stood beside the mantel, and once he reached out to touch the thrice-blessed chair that had held her.

The curtains stirred and rustled at the open window behind him, but he sat looking into the flickering fire, seeing there pictures of the future, and the future was full of a happiness beyond words, for in every picture Hermione moved.

All at once he started and glanced swiftly around, his lounging att.i.tude changing to one of watchful alertness, for he had heard a sound that drew rapidly nearer--the hiss and pant of breath drawn in quick gasps.

Silently he arose and turned to see the curtains swing apart and a shapeless something stagger forward and fall heavily. Then he reached out to the switch beside the hearth, and the room was flooded with brilliant light; the figure kneeling just inside the swaying curtains uttered a strangled cry and threw up a hand before his face, a hand dark with spattering blood.

"Oh, Geoff--oh, Geoff!" panted Spike, "I ain't--come thievin' this time--honest t' G.o.d, I ain't!"

"Why, you're hurt--what's the matter?"

"They see me down th' road as I came an' shot me, but this ain't nothin'. Out th' lights, Geoff--out 'em--quick!"

But Ravenslee had crossed the room, had seized the lad's arm, and was examining the ugly graze that bled so freely.

"That ain't nothin'--douse th' lights, Geoff--out 'em quick. Bud's coming here close behind--Bud an' Heine--they mean t' plug you--oh, put out th' lights--"

Instinctively Ravenslee turned, but even as he did so Spike uttered a hoa.r.s.e cry.

"No, ye don't, Bud--not this time, by G.o.d!" and sprang upon the form that towered between the curtains; came the sound of fierce scuffling, a deafening report, and running forward, Ravenslee caught Spike as he staggered back; heard a rush and trample of feet along the terrace, the sound of blows and fierce curses behind the swaying curtains, heard the Spider's fierce shout and Joe's deep roar, two more shots in rapid succession, and the swift patter of feet in flight and pursuit.

"How is it, Spike? Are you hurt, old chap?"

But Spike just then was beyond words, so Ravenslee bore the swooning boy to a settee, and laying him there, began to search hastily for the wound.

But now the door was flung wide and Hermione was beside him.

"Geoffrey--oh, my love! Have they hurt you?"

"No, dear--thanks to Spike, here!"

"Arthur! Oh, thank G.o.d--did he--?"

"Took the bullet meant for me, Hermione. I owe your brother my life!"

She was down on her knees and very soon her skilful fingers had laid bare the ugly wound in the lad's white arm. But now came Mrs. Trapes, looking taller and bonier than ever in a long, very woolly garment, and while she aided Hermione to bandage the wound, Ravenslee brought water and brandy, and very soon Spike sighed and opened his eyes.

"h.e.l.lo, Hermy!" he said faintly. "Don't worry, I'm all O. K. Bud shot me an' I'm glad, because now I can ask you t' forgive me. Y' see, he'd have got old Geoff sure if it hadn't been for me, so you--you will forgive me, won't you?"

For answer Hermione bent and kissed his pallid cheek.

"I'll go and 'phone for the doctor," said Ravenslee.

"Which," said Mrs. Trapes, "I done ten minutes ago, Mr. Geoffrey.

Doctor'll be right along."

Ravenslee turned to Spike.

"How are you now, old fellow?"

"Only a bit sick, like. But say, Geoff--I know I played it low down on you, but--will you--shake an' try t' forget?"

Ravenslee took and held the boy's outstretched hand.

"I think we're going to be better friends than ever, Spike!"

"Good!" said Spike, smiling wearily, "but say, Geoff--dear old Geoff--if I got t' die I don't mind--because I guess this makes us quits at last--don't it, Geoff?"

CHAPTER XLIV

RETRIBUTION

Half-stunned by a blow from Joe's mighty fist, M'Ginnis saw Heine felled by Spider, who, having promptly and scientifically kicked him unconscious, s.n.a.t.c.hed the revolver from his lax fingers and turned to pursue. As he came M'Ginnis fired rapidly but, dazed by the blow, his aim was wild, so he turned and ran, with the Spider in hot pursuit. The moon was down, and it was very dark, and soon M'Ginnis found himself in the denser gloom of trees. On he ran, twisting and doubling, on and on, until spent and breathless, he paused to hearken. Far away, voices shouted to each other, voices that gradually grew more distant; so, finally having caught his breath, M'Ginnis went on again. But the wood was full of noises--strange rustling and sudden, soft night sounds--and at every sound the fugitive paused to listen, finger on trigger. And ever as he went the wild blood throbbed and pulsed within his brain, sounding now like the pad-pad of pursuing feet that would not be shaken off, and again like a voice that mumbled and muttered querulous words in the air about him, and at such times he glanced around upon the dark, but the words would not be stilled:

"She's married--married--married! You drove her into his arms--you did--you did--you did! And he's alive still and with her, alive--alive--alive!"

And sometimes as he stumbled along through that place of gloom, he cursed bitterly beneath his breath, and sometimes he ground sweating jaws since needs must he hearken to that taunting devil-voice:

"Alive and with his wife beside him--alive! And yours the fault--yours--yours! Your shot at Spike so near the house lost you the game--lost--lost! Your shot at Spike was a call for help--saved the life of the man you came to kill! Your shot at Spike lost you the game--lost--lost!"

So, followed by the pad-pad of running feet, haunted by the querulous demon-voice, M'Ginnis stumbled out upon the road--a lonely road at most times but quite desolate at this hour. The fugitive hastened along, dogged by sounds that none but he might hear, yet to him these sounds were dreadfully real, so real that once, goaded to a paroxysm of blind fury, he whirled about and fired wildly--a shot that seemed to split asunder the deep night silence, filling it with a thousand echoes. Once more he turned and ran, ran until his breath laboured painfully and the sweat ran from him, but ever the sounds were close about him.

At last he beheld lights that moved, and reaching a way-side halt, clambered aboard a late trolley and crouched as far from the light as possible. But even so, his disordered dress, his pallor, and the wild glare of his eyes drew the idle glances of the few pa.s.sengers.

"Looks like you'd been through th' mill, bo!" said one, a great, rough fellow; but meeting M'Ginnis's answering glare, he quailed and shrank away.

Dawn was at hand when at last he reached O'Rourke's saloon and, letting himself in, strode into the bar. The place was deserted at this hour, but from a room hard by came the sound of voices, hoa.r.s.e laughter, and the rattle of chips that told a poker game was still in progress.

Scowling, M'Ginnis stood awhile to listen. Then, lifting the flap of the bar, he pa.s.sed through the narrow door beyond, along the pa.s.sage and so to that dingy office, from the open door of which a light streamed.