Part 36 (1/2)

”I promise,” answered Fledra.

For many minutes after Ann had left her, the girl lay stretched out upon the bed. Her heart pained her until it seemed that she must go directly to Horace and confess her secret.

She got up slowly at last, and, kneeling, began a whispered pet.i.tion. It was broken by sobs and falling tears, by writhings that tore the tender soul offering it.

Fledra prayed for Horace, and then stopped.

After a time she rose, having done all a girl could do for those she loved, and, undressing, slowly crawled into bed. Through the darkness as she lay looking upward she tried to imagine what kind of a being G.o.d was, wondering if He were kindly visaged, or if, when His earthly children sinned, He looked as Horace had looked when she confessed the lie told to Ann. In her imagination, she framed the Savior of the world like unto the man she loved when he smiled upon her, and then she believed, and believed mightily. In likening Jesus to Horace--in bringing the Savior nearer through the lineaments of her loved one--she gathered out of her unbelief a great belief that He could, and would, smooth away all the troubles that had arisen in her life.

That night she turned and tossed for several hours, praying and weeping, weeping and praying, until from sheer fatigue she lay perfectly quiet.

Suddenly she sat up and listened. The stupor of slumber dulled her hearing, and she struggled to catch again the sound that had awakened her. From somewhere across the hall she heard a faint click, click, which sounded as though some mechanic's tool were being used.

Fledra slipped from the bed and opened the door stealthily. She crept along the hall in her bare feet, terrified by the m.u.f.fled sound, and stopped before the velvet curtains that were drawn closely across the dining-room doorway. Someone was tampering with the silver chest.

For a moment terror almost forced Fledra back to her room without investigating; but the thought that somebody was stealing Ann's precious family plate caused her to slip her fingers between the curtains and peep in.

The lock of the steel safe was lighted by the rays of a dark-lantern, and Fledra could see two shadowy figures on the floor before it. One held the light, while the other turned a small hammer machine containing a slender drill. The girl did not have the courage to scream a warning to Horace and the servants, and before she could move of a sudden one of the men whispered:

”The d.a.m.n thing is harder'n h.e.l.l, Lem. I guess I'll take a crack at this here hinge.”

The name awoke the senses of the trembling girl, and instantly she knew the man who had spoken to be Lon Cronk. A chill gathered round her heart and froze the very marrow in her bones. She dropped the curtain and fled back to her room. Standing against the door, she pressed her hands over her face to stifle the loud breathing. Lem and Lon were robbing the house! She would be forced then to let thieves have the contents of the safe; for, if Pappy Lon knew that she and Flukey were housed there, he would take them away. But, if he made off with the plate, no one would ever know who had done it, and her sick brother would still be safe in Ann's care.

”I won't go to 'em. I won't! I won't! They can take the whole thing for all of me!”

She turned sharply as though she had heard a voice that had made answer to her. With her faculties benumbed by the terror of the men in the dining-room, and yet remembering that her grief had been subdued, she turned her face upward, and fancied she saw the Christ-man, so like Horace, descending into the room. But the face, instead of smiling at her, looked melancholy and sad.

It was the dawn of a lasting belief in the Son of G.o.d, her first real vision of Him. She gazed steadily at the beautiful apparition, and then said haltingly:

”I'm goin' back to stop 'em, and if Pappy Lon takes me back to the squatter settlement then help me if ye can, dear Jesus!”

The struggle was over, and with rigid desperation Fledra again opened the door and stepped into the hall. Gliding swiftly along to the entrance of the dining-room, she flung aside the curtains and appeared like a shade before Lem and Lon.

The squatter saw her first; but in the semidarkness did not recognize her. He lifted his arm, and a flash of steel sent her trembling backward.

”Don't open yer mug, Kid, or I'll shoot yer head off!”

Then he recognized her, and stepped back to Lem's side.

”It's Flea, it's Flea Cronk!” he gasped.

The girl advanced into the room.

”What do you want here, Pappy Lon? Did you come to steal?”

She saw Lem grimacing at her through the rays of the lantern. The scowman looked so evil, so awful, as he grinningly raised his steel hook, that her faith very nearly fled. Crabbe's heavy face was working with violent emotion. His full neck moved with horrid convulsions, while a discord of low noises came from his throat. The girl, clad in her white nightgown, under which he could trace the slender body, filled him again with pa.s.sionate longing.

”By G.o.d! it's little Flea!” he exclaimed at last.

”Yep,” threw back Lon. ”We found somethin' we didn't expect--eh, Lem?”