Part 38 (1/2)

”So you love him, do you, little girl?” he asked, smiling faintly down at her as he encircled her with his great arm.

”Yes, Zenas Henry,” she whispered.

For a moment he held her close as if he could never let her go.

”Well, Tiny,” he said, ”I don't know as we have anything to say against it. He's your nephew an' she's my daughter--yes, my daughter,” he added fiercely, ”in spite of the Lees and the Galbraiths.” With a swift gesture he turned toward Robert Morton. ”Young man, I am payin'

you a heavy fee for that motor-boat. I'm handin' over to you the most precious thing I have in the world. See you value it as you should or, by G.o.d, your life won't be worth a straw to Willie, the three captains, or me.”

They saw him wheel abruptly and stride alone into the shadow of the low pines. Silently the others drifted from the room and Delight was left alone with her lover.

As Bob caught the girl in his arms, a great wave of pa.s.sion surged through his body, causing its every fiber to vibrate in tune with the mad beating of his heart. He kissed her hair, her cheeks, the white curve of her exquisite throat; he buried his face in her hair and let his hands wander over its silky ripples.

”I love you,” he panted,--”I love you with all my heart. Tell me you love me, Delight.”

”You know I do,” was the shy answer.

Again he kissed her soft lips.

”I mustn't stay, Bob,” she said at last, trying to draw herself from his embrace. ”Zenas Henry is alone somewhere, almost broken-hearted; I must find and comfort him.”

But the arms that held her did not loosen their hold.

”Please let me go, Bob dear,” she coaxed. ”We mustn't be selfish.”

Her request struck the right note and instantly she was free.

Robert Morton followed her to the door and stood watching as she hurried along the copper-matted path of the woods sunflecked and mottled with shadow.

What a sweet miracle it was, he mused! She was his now before all the world, thanks to Willie's skilful pilotage. Where was the little old man--that dreamer of dreams, who with Midas-like touch left upon everything with which he came in contact the golden impress of his heart? He must seek him out and thank him for his aid.

Perhaps the thought carried with it a potent charm of magic, for no sooner had Robert Morton framed it than the inventor himself appeared on the threshold.

”Well, another of my s.h.i.+ps has made port!” cried he triumphantly.

His delicate face was illumined with a joy so transcendent that one might easily have believed that it was to him love's touchstone had been given.

”I never can thank you, Willie!” burst out the young man.

”Be good to Delight, my boy, an' make her happy; that's all the thanks I want,” was the grave response.

A pause fell between them. Perhaps Willie was thinking of the days that must inevitably come when the girl he had loved since childhood would be far away. How dull the gray house would be when she no longer flitted in and out its doors! Try as he would to banish the selfish reflection, it returned persistently. Then suddenly something quite outside himself put the reverie to rout.

It was the querulous voice of Janoah Eldridge.

”I was right about them Galbraiths,” he cried exultantly, standing in the doorway and hurling the words into the room where the two men lingered. ”'Twas exactly as I said. Lyman Bea.r.s.e's boy went up on the Boston train one afternoon in front of Snelling an' that other feller who was here, an' he heard every word they uttered. He said they talked the whole way about gettin' a patent out on your invention.

Now, Willie Spence, was I right or warn't I? Mebbe you'll believe me the next time I warn you against folks.”

CHAPTER XXI