Part 51 (1/2)

Kate was startled. ”It's serious then, poor silly creature, if she goes out on a night like this!” For Mag had even more than the usual cowardice of her cla.s.s. Thunder-storms reduced her to abject terror.

For a moment Kate thought of following, before she realized the folly of the idea. How could she hope to catch so fleet a pair of heels, already lost in the darkness? Then a faint cry came to her, the sound of a child wailing forlornly.

She slipped out into the pa.s.sage, careful not to wake Jacqueline.

Whatever was to be done with Mag, one duty lay plain before her--to comfort the deserted baby.

She opened Mag's door without knocking.--The baby was not deserted. Mag herself stood at the window in her nightdress, cringing from the lightning, and wringing her hands and weeping. The baby wept in sympathy.

When she saw who had entered, Mag ran forward with a terrified cry, and fell on her knees, clinging to Kate's skirts as a dog crouches against its master to escape a beating.

”'T ain't my fault, 't ain't my fault! I done begged her not to go to-night, I done prayed her, Miss Kate! Oh, oh, look at that lightnin'!

She'll be kilt!”

”What are you talking about? Pull yourself together, Mag!” Even then the truth did not dawn on Kate. She thought she must have been the victim of some optical illusion. Mag had to tell her in so many words.

”Miss Jacky's gone to meet her fella again, and I _know_ she's goin' to git kilt!”

Kate reeled against the wall. ”Again?” she whispered.

”I done begged her not to, no more. I knowed he'd git her into trouble if she kep' it up.--Oh, I helped 'em, and toted notes for 'em, an' all, 'cause I liked to see her so happy--but I didn't never think it would come to this! I'd 'a' tol' you if I dared, Miss Kate, but I da.s.sent, I da.s.sent. She liked me--she kissed me once. Oh, oh, and now she's gone!”

Kate forced her stiff lips into speech. ”This--has been going on for some time?”

”Yes'm, right smart. Ever since he was sick here. I took'n him a letter from her the day he went away.”

Even in that moment, Kate's whirling brain did Channing justice. He had kept his word, the letter of it, at least. He had not sought Jacqueline.

It was she who had sought him.

She was getting back her breath. ”Now,” she said, ”where shall I find them?”

Mag's wails broke forth anew. ”I dunno! Reckon it's too late. Oh, my Lordy! I took'n her bag to the Ruin before supper, and he was to come for her there at midnight. Reckon it's past that now. They've done gone!”

”Gone?” The word was a gasping cry. ”Gone--where?”

”I dunno. The city, I reckon, or wherever he lives at.--Oh, my Gawd, lissen at that!” The wind struck the house a great buffet, and the thunder was rattling steadily as artillery now.

Kate's knees refused to support her. She held herself upright by clinging to the bed.

The sight of the Madam thus stricken and speechless sobered Mag out of her own fears. She bethought herself suddenly of the letter Jacqueline had left for her mother.

”Here! Maybe it says in the letter where she's gone at. Don't look that way, Miss Kate! I wa'n't to give you the letter till mornin', but here it is. You kin have it now, see, Miss Kate!”

Only a few sentences of the long, incoherent screed in her hand penetrated to Kate's brain.

I can't bear to leave you, I just can't bear it; but I love him so, Mummy!--He needs me, and you don't. He can't finish his book without me.--We're going abroad, and I'll study my singing while he writes. Some day you'll be proud of your little girl--You said when the time came to take my life in my two hands, and it's come. You know it is not his fault that we can't be married right away--but what does all that matter? You'll be the first to understand, because I'm doing just what you would have done for Philip's father, if it hadn't been for us children. I know! I understand you so well, darling Mummy. I'm your own child.--We're not n.i.g.g.ardly lovers, you and I! We're not afraid to give all we have--

Kate uttered a hoa.r.s.e exclamation, and dropped the letter. Her moment of helplessness had pa.s.sed. She ran down stairs, two steps at a time, Mag at her heels. She jerked open the side door, and was almost driven from her feet by a great gust of driving rain. It was Mag who wrapped around her the first cloak that came to hand, the big, hooded cape Jacqueline had worn the night before, Kate stopped for nothing except to seize the rawhide whip which hung on its accustomed nail beside the door.

”What you goin' to do with that?” gasped Mag.