Part 18 (1/2)
”If I find I am wrong, I would rather fail than win.”
”Then is that all that troubles you?”
”Oh, no,” Scott answered with a smile. ”There was a very important case came before me to-day--or, let me see--I guess it was yesterday.
A very much love-smitten youth by the name of Jones interviewed me for the purpose of speaking to me of my sister June.”
”Oh, dear! Henry Jones! I sent him a note only a week ago, refusing his attentions.”
”He is quite persistent.”
”I think he is; but is that all that troubles you? Tell me, truly, Scott, are you not troubled about Rene?”
”Never mind, June; we will not talk about her. I think she will return soon.”
”Certainly; she has not gone to stay.”
Scott looked about the richly furnished room and wondered why his wife could not find enough of happiness in her own beautiful home, without seeking it abroad, as she seemed of late to do.
”June, go find Paul, please, and tell him to bring 'Bitter Sweet' and read to me.”
”That will be delightful. I love to hear him read better than any person I ever listened to,” June said, as she went in search of Paul.
”I never have any trouble finding him,” she said, as she returned; ”for if he is not in the library he is in his own room, and I found him working away with his pen as though his living depended upon it.”
”I am afraid it would be a poor living that I would gain from that,”
said Paul, as he took a seat by the table.
The time pa.s.sed much quicker to Scott than he had imagined, for the clear, rich tones and the perfect elocution of the boy's reading served in a measure to carry his mind away to the scenes portrayed in the poem, and ere he was aware the time came for Paul to prepare to attend to the transaction of the business which Scott had spoken of the evening previous. Scott having some letters and ma.n.u.scripts of importance to examine, went to his room to attend to the work, saying that he wished to retire as early as possible, as he was very much in need of rest, and cautioning Paul to go out well protected against the weather, for it was growing very cold.
The clouds were hanging darkly overhead, and by the time that Paul had finished his errand an intense darkness covered the city. The clouds had begun to throw out a snowflake here and there, and the driving wind from the river kept up a furious howl. Paul was pa.s.sing an old shed that stood in a woodyard, when he thought he saw a dark figure glide along and crouch under its roof. His curiosity was aroused, as no one, he thought, would be in such a place at such an hour of the night unless bent on mischief. Paul walked on as though he had not noticed the figure, and stole slyly around to the back of the old building, coming so close to the figure that only the boards separated the two. It was so dark that Paul had no fear of detection, so he stood there awaiting further developments. A half hour pa.s.sed when the man, muttering, as though speaking to himself, said:
”She's a devilish long time getting here.”
At that moment another person entered the old building. Paul could not see the face, but the sound of the voice caused his heart to beat wildly. It was a woman's voice, and one strangely familiar. He pressed his hand above his heart to still its wild throbbing, and in breathless silence listened to the words which followed, placing his ear close to a crevice in the part.i.tion.
”You were a devilish long while getting here,” said the man. ”Why don't you keep a fellow standing here all night? Who do you think wants to freeze?”
”Well, you need not be so cross, Mr. Crisp. You are rightly named, any way. I came as soon as I could; of course I had to be cautious; you must know that.”
”Where is your husband?”
”At home, asleep, I suppose.”
”Devilish fool! He had better be looking after his wife.”
”Oh, I do not think he suspects.”
”Good thing for you.”