Part 85 (1/2)
”What will people say?” he sneered. ”Is that all you can think of? Why, that has become your religion, Persis. You can stand the lying--the sneaking--the treachery--can't you? You've courage enough for the crimes, but when it comes to consequences, you're a coward, eh? But I'm not afraid of the consequences. I'm afraid of the crimes. I'm not afraid of the gossips, but of giving them cause. I offered you protection, devotion. I wanted to rescue our honor. But you--what do you care for me--for love--for honor? You care only for yourself and for what people will say--well, you'll soon know. But I won't help you to ruin your life. I won't let you ruin mine. I'm sorry I ever saw you. Before G.o.d, I'll never see you again!”
He turned to go. A cry of anguish broke from her. She rushed in pursuit of him, flung her arms about him, sobbing: ”No, no, I won't let you!
You've no right to leave me. I've given up everything for you. I've been everything to you. You can't leave me! Don't, don't, don't!”
He was too deeply embittered to have mercy. Her panic only angered him the more. He ripped her hands from his shoulders, jeering at her: ”Agh, you're faithless to your duty to your husband, faithless to your love of me, faithless to everybody--everything.”
”Don't say that, Harvey,” she pleaded, brokenly. ”Take that back.”
”You've killed my trust,” he raged. ”You've killed my love. I hate the sight of you.”
She put her hand over his cruel mouth to silence it. ”Don't let me hear that from you--pity me, pity me!”
He tried to break her intolerable clasp, but she fought back to him.
Abruptly she ceased to resist. She just stared past him. Startled, he looked where she stared. She whispered:
”Some one is behind that curtain--listening!”
The curtain trembled, and she gasped again: ”Look!”
A shudder of uneasiness shook him, but he muttered: ”It's only a draught from somewhere.”
”Perhaps it is,” she answered, weakly. ”I feel all cold.” And then she stared again and whispered: ”No! See! There's a hand there in the curtain!”
And Forbes could descry the m.u.f.fled outlines of fingers clutching the heavy fabric. He hesitated a moment, then he moved forward.
She put out her arm and stayed him, and spoke with abrupt self-possession. ”No, it is my place.” Then she called, hoa.r.s.ely: ”Crofts, is that you? Crofts!” There was no answer, but the talons seemed to grip the s.h.i.+vering arras tighter. She called again: ”Nichette!
Dobbs! Who's there?”
There was no answer.
”It's none of the servants,” she whispered. Then, after a pause of tremulous hesitation, she strode to the curtain and hurled it back with a clash of rings. It disclosed Willie Enslee cowering in ambush. He held a silver-handled revolver in his hand.
CHAPTER LXVI
A little groan of dismay broke from Persis' lips as she rushed between Forbes and the danger, interposing her body to protect his. Forbes seized her and thrust her away and leaped toward Enslee.
But Enslee darted aside and, running behind a great carved table, covered Forbes with the revolver, and cried, in a quivering voice, ”Don't you move or I'll fire!”
Forbes smiled grimly at the plight, and spoke with the calm of the doomed. ”All right, if you want to. It's your privilege. But I wouldn't if I were you. In the first place, I'm sure you'd miss; you don't hold your revolver like a marksman.”
”The first shot might miss,” Enslee admitted; ”but there are five others.”
”You'd never pull the trigger a second time,” said Forbes, icily. ”And there's not one chance in a thousand of that toy stopping me. I've got two bullets in me now--from real guns. And I'm not dead yet. If you should wing me, though, I'm afraid you'd never shoot a second time, for I'd have you by the wrist and by the throat--and I'd strangle you to death before I realized what I was doing.”
Enslee quaked with terror, less of Forbes than of his own fatal opportunities and his own weapon; Forbes began to edge imperceptibly closer and closer as he reasoned with the wretch, who, having lost the momentum of his frenzy, was a prey to reason.