Part 31 (1/2)

It was evening of the same day--and there came a knock at the outer door of the cottage porch.

The Flopper answered it, and came back to the Patriarch's room; where the Patriarch sat in his armchair; where the lamp, turned low, throwing the little room into half shadow, burned upon the table; where Helena, far away from her immediate surroundings, quite silent and still, her own chair close beside the other's, nestled with her head on the Patriarch's shoulder.

Helena looked up as the Flopper returned.

Upon the Flopper's face was a curious expression--not one that in the days gone by had been habitual--it seemed to mingle a diffidence, a kindly solicitude and a sort of anxious responsibility.

”It's Thornton askin' fer youse,” announced the Flopper.

Helena rose from her chair, and started for the door--but the Flopper blocked the way. Helena halted and looked at him in astonishment.

The Flopper licked his lips.

”Say, Helena,” he said earnestly, ”if I was youse I wouldn't go--say, I'll tell him youse have got de pip an' gone ter bed.”

”Not go?” echoed Helena. ”What do you mean?”

The Flopper scratched at his chin uneasily.

”Oh, you know!” he said. ”De Doc let youse down easy ter-day. Say, if youse had piped his lamps when you drives up in de buzz-wagon dis afternoon youse wouldn't be lookin' fer any more trouble. Say, I'm tellin' youse straight, Helena. When I was out dere in de kitchen an'

youse was in yer room wid him me heart was in me mouth all de time.

Youse can take it from me, Helena, he let youse down easy.”

Helena's brown eyes, a little wistfully, a little softly, held upon the Flopper.

”Yes?” she said quietly.

”Youse had better cut it out ter-night, Helena,” the Flopper went on.

”Y'oughter know de Doc by dis time--de guy dat starts anything wid de Doc gets his--dat's all! Remember de night he threw Cleggy down de stairs in de Roost?--an' he was only havin' fun! Say, you go out wid Thornton again ter-night an' de Doc finds it out--an' something'll happen. Say, Helena, fer G.o.d's sake, don't youse do it--de Doc was bad enough dis afternoon when he let youse down easy, but he's worse now, an'--”

”Worse?” Helena interrupted, smiling a little apathetically. ”In what way is he worse? And how do you know? You haven't seen Doc, have you?”

”No,” the Flopper answered, circling his lips with his tongue again.

”No; I ain't seen de Doc since--but I seen Pale Face. Say, Helena”--the Flopper's words came stumbling out now, agitated, perturbed, not altogether coherent--”wot's de answer I dunno; I dunno wot's de matter here. Say”--he pointed suddenly to the Patriarch, whose face was turned toward them as he stroked thoughtfully at his silver beard--”he's got me fer fair--dere ain't no fake here--dis way ter live is de real t'ing--he ain't like you an' me--he's _more'n_ dat--look at him now--youse'd t'ink he could see us, an' was listenin' ter wot we said. I dunno wot's de end--I dunno wot's de matter wid me. I was scared more'n ever out dere dis afternoon on de lawn, an' I thought mabbe G.o.d 'ud strike me dead--but 'tain't only dat I'm scared ter buck de game any more, 'tain't only dat--I don't _wanter_ any more, an' it don't make no difference about de dough--I wanter live straight, same as him, same as de guys around here, same--same as Mamie. Say, Helena, say, do youse believe in love--in--in de _real_ t'ing?”

Helena's apathy was gone now--a flush dyed her cheeks. She was not startled at what the Flopper had said--she had seen it coming, subconsciously, vaguely, mistily, for days now, only she had been immersed in herself--she was not startled, and yet, in a way, she was.

The end! She too had been thinking about that--and she too did not know.

What _was_ the end?

”You were going to say something about Pale Face,” she said, prompting the Flopper. ”Something about Pale Face and Doc.”

”Yes,” said the Flopper, and again the tip of his tongue sought his lips nervously. ”Dat's why I don't want youse ter go out wid Thornton ter-night. Pale Face has got it de same as me, an' he told de Doc dis afternoon, out in de path dere, after de Doc left de cottage here. Dere was a showdown--see? De Doc 'ud kill youse an' Thornton ter-night if he caught youse ter-gether. He's like a wild man. When Pale Face tells him he was goin' ter quit, de Doc makes a grab fer him by de t'roat like a tiger, only Pale Face gets away, an' den de Doc goes off widout a word, laughin' like he'd escaped out of a dippy-house. An' Pale Face was shakin' like he had a fit when he gets here. Say, Helena, don't youse go ter-night.”

Helena made no answer for a moment. Thoughts, a world of them, confused her, crowded upon her, as they had ever since Madison had left her room a few hours ago--and the future was as some dread, bewildering maze through which she had tried to stumble and grope her way--and had lost herself ever deeper. How full of utter, miserable, bitter irony it was that this thing, unscrupulous and shameful, that they had created in their guilt should have brought the beauty and the glory and the yearning of a new life to her--and yet should chain her remorselessly to the old! True, she had broken with Madison, irrevocably, forever, she supposed, it could not be other than that, for the ugly bond between them was severed--but the game still went on! In repentance, on her bended knees, sobbing as a tired and worn-out child, she could ask for forgiveness; but the double life, the duplicity, by reason of the very nature in which they had fas.h.i.+oned this iniquitous monster, still went on, and like some hideous octopus reached out its waving, feeling tentacles to encircle her--the Patriarch there; the world-wide publicity, those poor creatures upon whose misery and whose suffering, upon whose frantic, frenzied s.n.a.t.c.hing out at hope they had preyed and fed and gorged themselves; the life itself that she had taken up, in its minutiae, in its care of this great-souled, great-hearted man so dear to her now, the life itself because it was what it was, changed though she herself might be, though her soul cried out against it in its new-found purity--all this still held her fast! The end--she could not see the end. What would Madison do--and there was Thornton. Thornton! She caught her breath a little. Yes; she had promised Thornton she would see him to-night--she knew well enough why he wanted to see her--last night had told her that--he loved her. Her face softened. Last night--it seemed a thousand years ago, and it seemed but as an instant pa.s.sed--last night--she had learned what love was, and--

The Flopper stirred uneasily.

”Wot'll I tell him?” asked the Flopper. ”He's waitin' out dere by de porch.”