Part 53 (1/2)

”It isn't that, Miss Allis”--his voice was so cuttingly even after the erratic pump of her own--”in a bank one must not have a dishonest person. We must investigate to the end, and if Mortimer can clear himself by fastening the crime upon the perpetrator--”

”He will never do that; he cannot if he would.”

”What can I do then, Miss Allis? But why shouldn't he?”

”Can't you see--don't you understand the man? He commenced by s.h.i.+elding some one, and he will carry it through to the bitter end.”

”I am afraid there was no one to s.h.i.+eld but himself--everything points to this conclusion. The money was locked up, he had the keys, no one touched them--except your brother, and that but for a minute--but if any suspicion could attach to your brother it is all dissipated by Mortimer's subsequent actions. It's unpleasant to even hint at such a contingency, but if Mortimer is innocent, then your brother must be the guilty one.”

He expected the girl to denounce indignantly such a possibility; he was surprised that she remained silent. Her non-refutation of this deduction told him as conclusively as though she had uttered the accusation that she thought Alan had taken the money and Mortimer was s.h.i.+elding him. It was but a phase of blind love; it was the faith women place in men they love, of which he had read and scoffed at.

Against all evidence she was holding this man honest, believing her brother the thief.

Surely a love like that was worth winning; no price was too great to pay. Her very faith in Mortimer, through which she sought to save him by inspiring Crane, determined the latter to crush utterly the man who stood between him and this great love. Intensity of hate, or love, or cupidity, never drew Crane out of his inherent diplomacy; he took refuge behind the brother of Allis.

”You see,” he said, and his voice was modulated with kindness, ”I can't save Mortimer except at the expense of Alan; you would not have me do that. Besides, it is impossible--the evidence s.h.i.+nes as clear as noonday.”

”If you bring this home to Mr. Mortimer you will punish him, arrest him?”

”That would be the usual course.”

She had taken her hand off his arm; now she replaced it, and he could feel the strong fingers press as though she would hold him to her wishes.

”You will not do this,” she said, ”for my sake you will not.”

”You ask this of me, and it is for your sake?”

”Yes, if there is no other way; if Mr. Mortimer, innocent, must take upon himself this crime, then for my sake you will not punish him.”

The gray eyes were violet-black in their intensity.

”If I promise--” He had been going to ask for reward, but she broke in, saying: ”You will keep your word, and I will bless you.”

”Nothing more--is that all?”

The magnetism of the intense eyes broke down his reserve; he slipped back twenty years in a second. Love touched him with a fire-wand, and his soul ignited. Cold, pa.s.sionless Philip Crane spoke in a tongue, unfamiliar as it was to him, that carried conviction to the girl--just the conviction that he was in earnest, that he was possessed of a humanizing love. She listened patiently while he pleaded his cause with much mastery. It was beyond her understanding, that, though Mortimer through all time had spoken not at all of love to her--at least not in the pa.s.sionate words that came from this man's lips--yet she now heard as though it were his voice and not Crane's. Love was a glorious thing--with Mortimer.

Crane's intensity availed nothing. When he asked why she held faith to a man who must be known for all time as a thief, her soul answered, ”It is nothing--because he is innocent.”

Because of her Crane would do anything; the matter should be dropped as though it were all a hideous mistake. Mortimer might remain in the bank; his employer would even try to believe him innocent, taking the girl's protestation m conclusive proof. Her mother, her father, everyone would demand of her, however, that she give the dishonest one up as a possibility. Even in his vehemence he lost no delicacy of touch. Why should she chain herself to an impossibility? It would but ruin the man she professed to regard.

The banker made no threat, but Allis shuddered. She knew. The narrow-lidded eyes had closed perceptibly when their owner talked of the alternative. He, Crane, loved her--she felt that was true. He was rich; for her father, for her brother, for herself, even for Mortimer, he would use his wealth. He pleaded his cause like a strong man, and when he spoke of failure because of her preference for Mortimer, an acridity crept into his voice that meant relentless prosecution.

She could not hold this full power over Crane without feeling its value.

To pledge herself to him as wife was impossible; she could not do it; she would not. Fate played into his hands without doubt, but Fate was not Providence. A decree of this sort, iniquitous, was not a higher command, else she would not feel utter abhorrence of the alliance.

Paradoxically the more vehemently Crane's love obtruded itself the more obnoxious it became; it was something quite distinct from the man's own personality. She did not detest him individually, for the honesty of his love impressed her; mentally she separated Crane from his affection, a.n.a.l while rejecting his love absolutely as a compelling factor, appealed to him as a man having regard for her, a woman he believed in.

It was a most delicate cleavage, yet unerringly she attained to its utmost point of discrimination. Perhaps it was the strength of her love for Mortimer that enabled her to view so calmly this pa.s.sionate declaration. A year before, unsophisticated as she had been, it would have thrown her into an agitated confusion, but she was developing rapidly; responsibility had tempered fine the great will power which was hers in such a marked degree.

”I am sorry, Mr. Crane,” she began, conventionally enough, ”I am, sorry; I couldn't marry a man without loving him. What you have just told me must win regard for you, because I know that you feel strongly, and I think any woman should take an offer of honest love as the greatest of all compliments.”