Part 55 (2/2)
”Don't you know me?” asked the stranger in a singularly pleasant voice.
Florence had been imposed upon too many times. She shook her head defiantly, though her knees shook so that she was certain that the least touch would send her over.
”I am your father, child!”
Florence slipped unsteadily behind the desk and seized the revolver which lay in the drawer. The man by the curtains smiled sadly. It was a smile that caused Florence to waver a bit. Still she extended her arm.
”You do not believe me?” said the man, advancing slowly.
”No. I have been deceived too many times, sir. Stay where you are.
You will wait here till my butler returns. Oh, if I were only sure!”
she burst out suddenly and pa.s.sionately. ”What proof have you that you are what you say?”
He came toward her, holding out his hands. ”This, that you can not shoot me. Ah, the d.a.m.nable wretches! What have they done to you, my child, to make you suspicious of every one? How I have watched over you in the street! I will tell you what only Jones and the reporter know, that the aviator died, that I alone was rescued, that I gave Norton the five thousand; that I watched the windows of the Russian woman, and overheard nearly every plot that was hatched in the council chamber of the Black Hundred; that I was shot in the arm while crossing the lawn one night. And now we have the scoundrels just where we want them. They will be in this house for me within half an hour, and not one of them will leave it in freedom. I am your father, Florence. I am the lonely father who has spent the best years of his life away from you in order to secure your safety. Can't you feel the truth of all this?”
”No, no! Please do not approach any nearer; stay where you are!”
[Ill.u.s.tration: THEY WERE TUMBLING THROUGH THE LIBRARY AND READING-ROOM]
At that moment the telephone rang. With the revolver still leveled she picked up the receiver.
”h.e.l.lo, h.e.l.lo! Who is it? ... Oh, Jim, Jim, come at once! I am holding at bay a man who says he is my father. Hold him where he is, you say? All right, I will. Come quick!”
”Jim!” murmured the man, still advancing. He must have that revolver.
The poor child might spoil the whole affair. ”So what Jones tells me is true; that you are going to marry this reporter chap?”
She did not answer.
”With or without my consent?”
If only he would drop that fearless smile! she thought. ”With or without anybody's consent,” she said.
”What in the world can I say to you to convince you?” he cried. ”The trap is set; but if Braine and his men come and find us like this, good heaven, child, we are both lost! Come, come!”
”Stay where you are!”
At that moment she heard a sound at the door. Her gaze roved; and it was enough for the man. He reached out and caught her arm. She tried to tear herself loose.
”My child, in G.o.d's name, listen to reason! They are entering the hall and they will have us both.”
Suddenly Florence knew. She could not have told you why; but there was an appeal in the man's voice that went to her heart.
”You are my father!”
”Yes, yes! But you've found it out just a trifle too late, my dear.
Quick; this side of the desk!”
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