Volume Ii Part 21 (1/2)
She rose from her bed, and dressed hurriedly, without lighting a candle.
Then she went to the door and opened it.
”a.s.sist me to my room,” he said, in his cold, cruel voice.
He leant upon her with such force that he almost bore her down. They reached his room.
”Attend to my words,” he said, ”they may be the last that will ever pa.s.s between us. There is ruin on all sides of me. Whom should I trust, if not you? Once more I ask if you will obey me.”
”In everything,” said Phoebe, ”except--”
He did not allow her to finish.
”Except in the way I wish. I will put an end to this. You walk like a ghost about the house. I see you in my dreams. You come, you and your mother, who was like you, a pale, sickly creature, and stand by my bedside in the night. I saw her a few minutes since, and I will submit to it no longer. I will rid myself of you both, now and for ever! Again, will you obey me?”
”Not in the way you wish,” replied Phoebe.
”In what other way can you satisfy me? You know well in no other way.
You will not?”
”I will not.”
With all his strength--with more than his ordinary strength, for he was excited to a furious pitch--he struck her in the face.
”Will you obey me?”
”No.”
He struck her again, a frightful blow.
”I call down a curse upon you!” he cried. ”You are no longer a child of mine. I drive you from my house. Go, this moment, or I shall kill you!”
She turned and fled without a word. Out into the pa.s.sage, down the stairs, out of the house, and into the open, quivering, bleeding, and staggering blindly on through the darkness of night.
CHAPTER XVII.
DARK CLOUDS ARE GATHERING.
During these troublous months in Phoebe's life matters pregnant with momentous issues for weal or woe were progressing in the careers of others who are playing their parts in this domestic drama. From a worldly point of view Fred Cornwall was making rapid progress. He still possessed but a scanty purse, but he saw before him an almost certain prospect of success. He was making a reputation; his foot was on the ladder. He was unhappy and sad at heart, and he took refuge in desperately hard work, slaving day and night, as it is necessary for a man to do if he desires to make his mark in life's tough battle. This incessant labour and his visits to the Lethbridges--which were as frequent as ever--were his only consolation. Faithfully did he cherish Phoebe's image in his memory; he was as true to her as a true man could be; and the esteem and affection which the Lethbridges entertained for him deepened as time wore on. Many were the conversations, many the consultations, which he and the Lethbridges held respecting the young girl upon whose life had fallen so heavy a blow, and whose place in the dear home in Camden Town was open for her if by any happy chance she should come to claim it. That they received no letters from her, that those they wrote to her should remain unanswered, distressed them, but did not shake their faith in her.
”She has written,” said Aunt Leth, ”and her letters have been intercepted. Ours have never reached her hands. Poor child! poor child!”
”What is the use of being a lawyer,” exclaimed f.a.n.n.y, ”if you don't know how to bring her back to us?”
Fred Cornwall smiled sadly. ”G.o.d knows,” he said, ”I would risk and sacrifice my life for her if any good could be done! A lawyer's skill is powerless here. She is living with her father, under his protection. He has a legal claim upon her which no action on our part can touch. If she herself made some move we could act; but as it is, the lawful right is on her father's side.”
”Her father!” cried f.a.n.n.y. ”Her oppressor! her torturer, you mean!”
”I mean that,” replied Fred; ”but that does not help us. I have consulted a dozen fellows, and they all agree that, as things stand, nothing can be done. Her father has forbidden us his house; he has a right to do so. To put a foot inside the grounds of Parksides would be a trespa.s.s; we should only be bringing ourselves into trouble, and bringing heavier trouble, most likely, upon Phoebe.”
”If I were a man,” f.a.n.n.y declared, ”I would do it! I would drag her from that wretched, miserable hole; I would tear the hair out of Mrs.