The Wall Between Part 40

With the knowledge, all the latent affection he felt for her crystallized into a mighty tide that rushed over and engulfed him in its current.

Hatred, revenge, pride were no more; only love persisted,--love the all-powerful, the all-conquering, the all-transforming.

Lucy, dearer to him than his own soul, had gone. Either in anger, or driven forth by maiden shyness, she had fled from him; and until she was brought back and was safe within the shelter of his arms, nothing remained for him in life.

Tony saw him square his shoulders and turn away.

"Good night, Mr. Howe," he called.

"Good night, Tony."

"Any orders for to-morrow?"

"No. Go on with your work as usual. Just be sure to water Miss Lucy's flowers."

"I will, sir."

"An' by the way. You needn't drive into town with that key. I'm goin' to Mr. Benton's myself, an' I'll take it."

"All right."

The boy watched Martin go down the driveway; but at the gate the man wheeled about and shouted back:

"You'll be sure not to forget Miss Lucy's flowers, Tony."

"I'll remember 'em."

"An' if I should have to be away for a while--a week, or a month, or even longer--you'll do the best you can while I'm gone."

"I will, sir."

"That's all. Good night."

With a farewell gesture of his hand Martin pa.s.sed out of the gate. To have witnessed the buoyancy of his stride, one would have thought him victorious rather than defeated. The truth was, the scent of battle was in his nostrils. For a lifetime he had been the champion of Hate. Now, all the energies of his manhood suddenly awakened, he was going forth to fight in the cause of Love.

CHAPTER XVIII

LOVE TRIUMPHANT

Serene in spirit, Martin turned into the road, his future plain before him. He would search Lucy out, marry her, and bring her back to her own home. How blind he had been that he should not have seen his path from the beginning! Why, it was the only thing to do, the only possible thing!

There might be, there undoubtedly would be difficulties in tracing his sweetheart's whereabouts, but he did not antic.i.p.ate encountering any insurmountable obstacle to the undertaking: and should he be balked by circ.u.mstance it was always possible to seek a.s.sistance from those whose business it was to untangle just such puzzles. Therefore, with head held high, he hastened toward home, formulating his plans as he went along.

With the dawning of to-morrow's sun he must set forth for the western town which, if Tony's testimony was to be trusted, was Lucy's ultimate destination. It was a pity his fugitive lady had twelve hours' start of him. However, he must overtake her as best he might.

It was unquestionably unfortunate too, that it was such a bad season of the year for him to be absent from home. Harvest time was fast approaching, and he could ill be spared. But of what consequence were crops and the garnering of them when weighed against an issue of such life import as this? To plant and gather was a matter of a year, while all eternity was bound up in his and Lucy's future together.

In consequence, although he realized the probable financial loss that would result from his going on this amorous pilgrimage, the measure of his love was so great that everything else, even the patient toil of months, was as nothing beside it.

It came to him that perhaps, if he confided his present dilemma to his sisters, they might come to his rescue, and in the exigency of sudden frosts save at least a portion of his crops from loss. They were fond of Lucy. Sometimes he had even thought they guessed his secret and were desirous of helping on the romance. At least, he felt sure they would not oppose it, for they had always been eager that he should marry and leave an heir to inherit the Howe acreage; they had even gone so far as to urge it upon him as his patriotic duty. Moreover, they were very desirous of demolis.h.i.+ng the barrier that for so many years had estranged Howe and Webster.

The more he reflected on taking them into his confidence, the more desirable became the idea, and at length he decided that before he went to bed he would have a frank talk with the three women of his household and lay before them all his troubles. If he were to do this he must hasten, for Sefton Falls kept early hours.

When, however, he reached his own land, he found the lights in the house still burning, and he was surprised to see Jane, a shawl thrown over her head, coming to meet him.

"Martin!" she called, "is that you?"

The words contained a disquieting echo of anxiety.

"Yes, what's the matter?"

"Oh, I'm so glad you've got back!" she exclaimed. "I was just goin' over to the Websters' to find you. A telephone message has just come while you've been gone. Lucy----"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Martin breathlessly.

"There's been an accident to the Boston train, an' they telephoned from the hospital at Ashbury that she'd been hurt. They wanted I should come down there!"

She saw Martin reel and put out his hand.

"Martin!" she cried, rus.h.i.+ng to his side.

"Is she much hurt? When did the message come?" panted the man.

"Just now," Jane answered. "The doctor said her arm was broken an' that she was pretty well shaken up an' bruised. He didn't send for me so much because she was in a serious condition as because her bag with all her money an' papers was lost, an' she was worryin' herself sick over being without a cent, poor child. He didn't tell her he'd sent for me. He just did it on his own responsibility. Oh, Martin, you will let me go an' bring her back here, won't you? Mary an' 'Liza an' I want to nurse her, ourselves. We can't bear to think of her bein' a charity patient in a hospital."

Jane's voice trembled with earnestness.

"Yes, you shall go, Jane," Martin answered quickly. "We'll both go. I'll see right away if we can get Watford to take us in his touring car. We ought to make the distance in four hours in a high-power machine."

"Mercy, you're not goin' to-night?"

"I certainly am."

"But there's no need of that," protested Jane. "The doctor said Lucy was gettin' on finely, an' he hoped she'd quiet down an' get some sleep, which was what she needed most."

"But I'd rather go now--right away," Martin a.s.serted.

"'Twould do no good," explained the practical Jane. "We wouldn't get to Ashbury until the middle of the night, an' we couldn't see Lucy. You wouldn't want 'em to wake her up."

"N--o."

"It'll be much wiser to wait till mornin', Martin."

"Perhaps it will."

The brother and sister walked silently across the turf.