Part 75 (1/2)
”I like men.... I cared most for Stephen Watts.... Then one day I had a great fright.... Shall I tell it?”
”Yes.”
”Well, then, Sir John's gallantries neither pleased nor flattered me from the first. But he was very cautious what he said and did in Douw Fonda's house, and never spoke to me save coldly when others were present, or when he was alone with us and Mr. Fonda was awake and not dozing in his great chair.... Well, there came a day when Mr. Fonda went to the house of Captain Fonda, and I was alone in the house....
”And Sir John came.... Shall I tell it?”
”Tell it, Penelope.”
”I've had it long in my mind. I wished to ask you if it lessened me in your esteem.... For Sir John was drunk, and, finding me alone, he conducted roughly--and followed me and locked us in my chamber.... I was horribly afraid.... I had never struck any living being before. But I beat his red face with my hands until he became confused and stupid--and there was blood on him and on me.... And my kerchief was torn off and my hair all tangled.... I beat him till he dropped my door key, and so unlocked my door and returned again to him, silent and flaming, and drove him with blows out o' my chamber and out of the house--all over blood as he was, and stupid and drunk.... His negro man got him on his horse and rode off, holding him on.
”And none knew--none know, save Sir John and you and I.”
After a silence I said in a controlled voice: ”If Sir John comes this way I shall hope not to miss him.... I shall pray G.o.d not to miss this--gentleman.”
”Do you think meanly of me that he used me so?”
I did not answer.
”I have told you all,” she said timidly. ”I am still honest. If I were not I would not have let you touch my lips.”
”Why not?”
”For both our sakes.... I would not do you any evil.”
I said impatiently: ”No need to tell me you never had a lover. I never believed it of you from the day I saw you first. And, G.o.d willing, I mean to stop a mouth or two in Tryon, war or no war----”
”John Drogue!” she exclaimed in consternation--”you shall seek no quarrel on my account! Swear to me!”
But I made no reply. Whatever the quarrel, I knew now it was to be on my own account; for whether or no I was falling in love with this girl, Penelope Grant, I realized at all events that I would suffer no other man to interfere, however he conducted, and should hold any man to stern account who would make of this girl a toy and plaything.
And so, all hotly resolved on that point; sore, also, at the knowledge of Sir John's baseness which seemed to touch my proper honour; and swifter, too, with tenderness in my heart to rea.s.sure her, I did exactly that for which I was now prepared to cut the throats of various other gentlemen--I drew her into my arms and held her close, body and lips imprisoned.
She sought her chair and sat there silent and subdued until a maid-servant brought lights and my supper.
In the candle light she ventured to look at me and laugh.
”Such schooling” says she. ”I never knew before that there was such a personage as a sweetheart pro tem! But you seem to know the role by heart, Mr. Drogue. And so, no doubt, feel warranted to instruct others.
But this is the end of it, my friend. For one day you shall have to confess you to your wife! And I think my future Lady Northesk is like to have a pretty temper and will give you a mauvais quart d'heur when she hears of this May day's folly in a Johnstown public house!”
CHAPTER XXVI
ORDERS
In June I was out o' bed and managed to set foot on ground for the first time since early spring. By the end of the month I had my strength in a measure and was able to hobble about town. Pernicious rheumatism is no light matter, for with the agony,--and weakness afterward,--a dull despair settles upon the victim; and it was mind, not body, that caused me the deeper distress, I think.
Life seemed useless; effort hopeless. Dark apprehensions obsessed me; I despaired of my country, of my people, of myself. And this all was part of my malady, but I did not know it.