Part 48 (1/2)

Sansome, who, it must be confessed, had been somewhat chagrined at the apparent intensity of her anxiety, was, within the next two hours, considerably rea.s.sured. Nan never did things halfway. For the moment she had forgotten her guest. He was certainly very kind, very thoughtful--as always--to stay here with her. She must not oppress his spirits. But the inner tension was terrible. She felt that shortly something must snap. And after supper, when they had returned to the drawing-room, a queer, low, growling, distant roar, borne on a chance s.h.i.+ft of wind, broke one of her sentences in the middle.

”What's that?” she cried, but before Sansome had replied, she knew what It was, the roar of the mob! And Milton was somewhere there!

Suddenly a wave of reaction swept her, of anger. Why was he there? Why wasn't he at home? Why had he made no attempt to relieve her cruel anxiety? A messenger--it would have been very simple! And Ben Sansome was so kind--as always. She turned to him with a new decision.

”I know you are dying to go see what is going on,” she said. ”You simply must not stay here any longer on my account. I insist! Indeed, I think I'll go to bed.” But Ben Sansome, his manner becoming almost caressingly protective, would not listen.

”It isn't safe to leave you alone,” he told her. ”All the worst elements of the city will be out. No woman should be left alone in times of such danger. I should feel most uneasy at leaving you before your husband comes in.”

His words were correct enough, but he managed to convey his opinion that he was only fulfilling what should have been Keith's first and manifest duty. She made no reply. The conversation languished and died.

They sat in the lamplight opposite each other, occasionally exchanging a word or so. Sansome was content and enjoying himself. He conceived that the stars were fighting for him, and he was enjoying the hour.

Nan, a prey alternately to almost uncontrollable fits of anxiety and flaming resentment, could hardly sit still.

About midnight Gringo p.r.i.c.ked up his ears and barked sharply. A moment later Keith came in.

He was evidently dead tired and wholly preoccupied. He hung up his hat absently. Nan had sprung to her feet.

”Oh, how could you!” she cried, the pent exasperation in her voice.

”I've been so anxious! I didn't know what might have happened!”

”I'm all right,” replied Keith briefly. ”Sorry you were worried. No chance to send you word.”

His apparent indifference added fuel to Nan's irritation.

”If it hadn't been for Ben, I should have been stark, staring crazy, here all alone!”.

Keith for the first time appeared to notice Sansome's presence. He nodded at him wearily.

”Mighty good of you,” said he. ”I appreciate it.”

”I thought _some_ man ought to be in the house at a time of such public excitement,” rejoined Sansome significantly.

Keith failed to catch, or elected not to notice, the implication. Nan's cheeks turned red.

Without further remark Keith walked across to lock the window; returning, he extinguished a small lamp on the side table. He was tired out, knew he must be up early, and wanted above everything to get to bed. The hint was sufficiently obvious. Sansome rose. Nan's flush deepened with mortification.

”Well, I'll just run along,” said Sansome cheerfully. He did not ask for news of the evening, nor did Keith volunteer it. Keith nodded at him briefly and indifferently. He did not mean to be rude, but his wearied mind was filled to the exclusion of everything else with the significance of this day.

Nan, feeling that she must make amends, followed Sansome into the hall.

Her anxiety for Keith's safety relieved, her whole reaction was indignantly toward Sansome.

”I'm sorry to have you go,” she said, with a feeling that other circ.u.mstances could not have called out, ”I don't know what I'd have done without you!”

Sansome's sensitive intuitions thrilled to the feeling.

”Your husband is here to take care of you--now,” he murmured. ”I must be off.” He took her hand, and bent over her, gazing into her eyes with the concentration of a professional hypnotist, ”Good-night,” he said, with a world of unexpressed meaning. ”Try to get some sleep--Nan,” He said her name in a lower tone, almost lingeringly, then turned abruptly and went out.