Part 41 (2/2)

At the appointed hour there came the clatter of a pacer's hoofs at the front gate, and a moment later Prudence led her lover into the parlour. After a few brief words she hurriedly departed to summon her mother and Sarah. There was a significant solemnity in this a.s.sembling; nor was it lessened by the smuggler's manner. Even the wolfish Neche seemed impressed with what was happening, for he clung to the girl's heels, following her wherever she went, and finally laid down upon the trailing portion of her skirt when she took up her position beside her lover and waited for him to begin.

The opening was a painful one for everybody. Iredale scarcely knew how to face those gentle folk and recount his disgraceful story. He thought of all they had been to him during his long years upon the prairie. He thought of their implicit trust and faith in him. He almost quailed before the steady, honest eyes of the old people.

However, he at last forced himself to his task, and plunged into his story with uncompromising bluntness.

”I am accused of murder,” he said, and paused, while a sickly feeling pervaded his stomach.

Mrs. Malling nodded her head. She was too open to remain silent long.

”Of Leslie Grey,” she said at once. ”And ye needn't to tell us nothin'

more, George. We know the yarn you are about to tell us. An' d'ye think we're goin' to believe any addle-pated scalliwag such as my Hervey, agin' you? Smuggler you may be, but that you've sunk to killin' human flesh not even a minister o' the Gospel's goin' to convince me. Here, I respects the man I give my hand to. Shake me by the hand, George--shake me by the hand.” And the farm-wife rose from her chair and ambled across the room with her hand outstretched.

Iredale clasped it in both of his. And never in his life had he experienced such a burst of thankfulness as he did at that moment. His heart was too full to speak. Prudence smiled gravely as she watched this whole-hearted token of her mother's loyalty to a friend. Nor was Sarah backward in her expression of goodwill.

”Hephzibah's right, George, and she speaks for both of us. But there's work to be done for all that. Hervey's to be dealt with.”

”To be bribed,” said Hephzibah uncompromisingly, as she returned to her seat.

Iredale shook his head and his face set sternly. Prudence saw the look she feared creep into her lover's eyes. She opened her lips to protest, but the words remained unspoken. She had heard the rattle of a buckboard outside. The sound died away, and she knew that the vehicle had pa.s.sed round to the barn. She waited in an agony of suspense for her brother's appearance.

”You needn't to shake your head,” went on the farm-wife. ”This matter's my concern. It's my dollars as is goin' to pay Master Hervey--an' when he gets 'em may they blister his fingers, I sez.”

Prudence heard a footstep in the hall. The crucial moment had arrived, and her heart palpitated with nervous apprehension. Before Iredale could reply the door was flung open, and Hervey stood in their midst.

Instantly every eye was turned upon him. He stood for a moment and looked round. There was a slight unsteadiness in his att.i.tude. His great eyes looked wilder than ever, and they were curiously bloodshot.

At least one of the three ladies possessed an observant mind. Sarah saw that the man had been drinking. To her the signs, though slight, were unmistakable. The others did not seem to notice his condition.

”Ah,” he said, with an attempt at pleasantry, ”a nice little party.

Well, I've come for the dibs.”

His eyes lit upon the figure of George Iredale, and he broke off. The next moment he went on angrily--

”What's that man doing in this house?” he cried, his eyes fairly blazing with sudden rage. ”Is the place turned into a refuge for--murderers?”

The man's fury had set fire to the powder train. His mother was on her feet in a twinkling. Her comfortable body fairly shook in her indignation. Her face was a flaming scarlet, and her round eyes sparkled wickedly.

”And who be you to question the calling of my house, Hervey Malling?”

she cried; ”since when comes it that you've the right to raise your voice against my guests? An' by what right d'ye dare to accuse an innocent man? Answer me, you imp of Evil,” she demanded. But she gave him no time to speak, and went on, her voice rising to a piercing crescendo. ”Spare your wicked tongue, which should be forked by reason of the lies as has fallen from it. Oh, that you should be able to call me 'mother.' I'd rather mother the offspring of a rattlesnake than you. What have you done by us all your life but bring sorrow an'

trouble upon those who've done all that which in them is to help you?

Coward! Traitor! An' you come now with lies on your tongue to harm an innocent man what's done you no harm.” She breathed hard. Then her wrath swept on, and the room rang with the piercing pitch of her voice. ”You've come for your blood-money--your thirty pieces. You villain; if your poor father were alive this day he should lay a raw hide about you till your bones were flayed. Sakes! I've a mind to set about you myself. Look at him, the black-heart! Look at him all! Was ever such filth of a man? and him my son. Blood-money! Blood-money!

And to think that I'm living to know it.”

She paused. Hervey broke in--

”Silence, you old fool! You don't know what you're talking about. That man,” pointing over at Iredale, who sat waiting for an opportunity to interfere, ”is the murderer of Leslie Grey. I suppose he has been priming you with blarney and yarns. But I tell you he murdered Grey.

I'm not here for any tomfoolery. I got Prudence's message to say the money was forthcoming. Where is it? Fifteen thousand dollars buys me, and that I want at once. If I have any more yapping I'll make it twenty thousand.”

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