Part 34 (1/2)

”I implore you to do so. I will go on my knees and beseech you,” said Mr. Finn, with hands clasped in front of him.

Paul looked round. ”I'm afraid, Bill,” said he, ”that this is getting rather painful.”

”It is painful. It's more than painful. It's horrible! It's ghastly!”

cried Mr. Finn, in sudden shrill crescendo, leaping to his feet. In an instant the man's demeanour had changed. The mournful apostle had become a wild, vibrating creature with flas.h.i.+ng eyes and fingers.

”Easy, now, Silas. Whoa! Steady!” said Barney Bill.

Silas Finn advanced on Paul and clapped his hands on his shoulders and shouted hoa.r.s.ely: ”For the love of G.o.d--don't thwart me in this. You can't thwart me. You daren't thwart me. You daren't thwart G.o.d.”

Paul disengaged himself impatiently. The humour had pa.s.sed from the situation. The man was a lunatic, a religious maniac. Again he addressed Barney Bill. ”As I can't convince Mr. Finn of the absurdity of his request, I must ask you to do so for me.”

”Young man,” cried Silas, quivering with pa.s.sion, ”do not speak to G.o.d's appointed in your vanity and your arrogance. You--you--of all human beings--”

Both Jane and Barney Bill closed round him. Jane clutched his arm.

”Come away. Do come away.”

”Steady now, Silas,” implored Barney Bill. ”You see it's no use. I told you so. Come along.”

”Leave me alone,” shouted Finn, casting them off. ”What have I to do with you? It is that young man there who defies G.o.d and me.”

”Mr. Finn,” said Paul, very erect, ”if I have hurt your feelings I am sorry. But I fight this election. That's final. The choice no longer rests with me. I'm the instrument of my party. I desire to be courteous in every way, but you must see that it would be useless to prolong this discussion.” And he moved to the door.

”Come away now, for Heaven's sake. Can't you realize it's no good?”

said Jane, white to the lips.

Silas Finn again cast her off and railed and raved at her. ”I will not go away,” he cried in wild pa.s.sion. ”I will not allow my own son to raise an impious hand against the Almighty.”

”Lor' lumme!” gasped Barney Bill, dropping his hat. ”He's done it.”

There was a silence. Silas Finn stood shaking in the middle of the room, the sweat streaming down his forehead.

Paul turned at the door and walked slowly up to him. ”Your son? What do you mean?”

Jane, with wringing hands and tense, uplifted face, said in a queer cracked voice: ”He promised us not to speak. He has broken his promise.”

”You broke your sacred word,” said Barney Bill.

The man's face grew haggard. His pa.s.sion left him as suddenly as it had seized him. He collapsed, a piteous wreck, looked wide of the three, and threw out his hands helplessly. ”I broke my promise. May G.o.d forgive me!”

”That's neither here nor there,” said Paul, standing over him. ”You must answer my question. What do you mean?”

Barney Bill limped a step or two toward him and cleared his throat.

”He's quite correct, sonny. Silas Kegworthy's your father right enough.”

”Kegworthy?”

”Yes. Changed his name for business--and other reasons.”

”He?” said Paul, half dazed for the moment and pointing at Silas Finn.