Part 43 (1/2)

”My father was a clergyman,” said Annesley.

”There are many clergymen who have got as far from the light as the moon from the earth. I know more about Christianity myself than some of those narrow men with their 'cold Christs and tangled Trinities'! That is, I know all this on principle. I don't practise what I know, but that's my affair. Did Don ever excuse himself by mentioning the influence I brought to bear on him when he was almost a boy?”

”No,” breathed Annesley. ”He didn't excuse himself at all except to tell me about his father and mother, and a vow he'd made to revenge them on society.”

”It was like him not to whine for your forgiveness.”

”He would never whine,” the girl agreed. But she remembered that night of confession when on his knees he had begged her to forgive, to grant him another chance, and she had refused. He had never asked again. And he had struggled alone for redemption.

”I haven't forgotten some early teachings which impressed me,” said Paul Van Vreck. ”Christ made a remark about forgiving till seventy times seven. Did you forgive Donaldson four hundred and eighty-nine times, and draw the line at the four hundred and ninetieth?”

”No, I never had anything to forgive him--till that one thing came out.

But it was a very big thing. Too big!”

”_Too_ big, eh? There was another saying of Christ's about those without sin throwing the first stone. Of course I'm sure _you_ were without sin.

But you look as if you might have had a heart--once.”

”Oh, I had, I had!” Tears streamed down Annesley's pale face, and she did not wipe them away. ”It's dead now I think.”

”Think again. Think of what the man is--what he's proved himself to be.

He's twice as good now as one of your best saints of the Church. He's purified by fire. You've got the face of an angel, Mrs. Donaldson, but in my opinion you're a wicked woman unworthy of the love you've inspired.”

”You speak to me cruelly,” the girl said through her tears. ”I've been very unhappy!”

”Not as unhappy as you've made Don by _your_ cruelty. Good heavens, these tender girls can be more cruel when they set about punis.h.i.+ng us, than the hardest man! And to punish a fellow like that by making him live in an ice-house, when you could have done anything with him by a little kindness! Don't _I_ know that?

”I'm the sponsor for such sins as Don's committed. He was meant to be straight. But I got hold of him through an agent, and caught his imagination when that wild vow was freshly branded on his heart or brain.

I have the gift of fascination, Mrs. Donaldson. I know that better than I know most things. _You_ feel it to-night, or you wouldn't sit there letting me tear your heart to pieces--what's left of your heart. And I have an idea there's a good deal more than you think, if you have the sense to patch the bits together.

”I have fascination, and I've cultivated it. Napoleon himself didn't study more ardently than I the art of winning men. I won Don. I appealed to the romance in him. I became his hero and--slowly--I was able to make him my servant. Not much of my money or anything else has ever stuck to his hands. He's too generous--too impulsive; though I taught him it was necessary to control his impulses.

”What he did, he did for love of me, till you came along and lit another sort of fire in his blood. I saw in one minute, when he called on me, what had happened to his soul. It's taken you more than a year to see, though he's lived for you and would have died for you. Great Heaven, young woman, you ought to be on your knees before a miracle of G.o.d!

Instead, you've mounted a marble pedestal and wors.h.i.+pped your own purity!”

Annesley bowed her head under a wave of shame. _This_ man, of all others, had shown her a vision of herself as she was. It seemed that she could never lift her eyes. But suddenly, into the crying of the wind, a shot broke sharply; then another and another, till the sobbing wail was lost in a crackling fusillade.

The girl leaped to her feet.

”Raiders!” she gasped. ”Or else----”

Paul Van Vreck sprang up also, his face paler, his eyes brighter than before.

”They've come after me,” he said. ”Clever trick--if they've bribed ruffians from over the border to cover their ends. The real errand's here, inside this house.”

Annesley's heart faltered.

”You must hide,” she breathed. ”I must save you--somehow.”

”Why should you save _me_?” Van Vreck asked, sharply. ”Why not think about saving yourself?”