Part 72 (1/2)

She stared at Peter in awe and a kind of fear of this new element in their relations.

”And--and you----? You're----?”

”I'm just Peter Nichols----,” he said with a laugh.

”But over there----”

”I'm nothing. They chucked us all out, the Bolsheviki--every last one of us that had a handle to his name.”

”A handle----?”

”Yes. I used to be Grand Duke Peter Nicholaevitch of Zukovo and Galitzin----”

”G-Grand Duke Peter!” she whispered in a daze. And then, ”Oh--how--how _could_ you?” she gasped.

Peter laughed.

”I couldn't help it, Beth. I was born that--way. But you _will_ forgive me, won't you?”

”Forgive----? Oh--it--it makes such a difference to find--you're not _you_--but somebody else----”

”No. I _am_--_me_. I'm not anybody else. But I had to tell you--sometime. You don't think any the less of me, do you, Beth?”

”I--I don't know _what_ to think. I'm so--you're so----”

”What?”

”Grand--and I'm----”

Peter caught her hands and made her look at him.

”You're the only woman in the world I've ever wanted--the only one--and you've promised me you'd marry me--you've promised, Beth.”

Her fingers moved gently in his and her gaze, wide-eyed, sought his.

”And it won't make any difference----?”

”No, Beth. Why should you think that?”

”I--I was afraid--it might,” she gasped. And then for a while Peter held her hands, whispering, while Beth, still abashed, answered in monosyllables, nodding from time to time.

Later the nurse entered, her glance on her wrist-watch.

”Time's up,” she said. And Beth rose as one in a dream and moved slowly around the foot of the bed to the door.

Jonathan K. McGuire had been as much astonished as Beth at the revelation of Peter's ident.i.ty, and the service that Peter had rendered him made him more than anxious to show his appreciation by doing everything he could for the wounded man's comfort and happiness. He visited the bedside daily and told Peter of his conversation with Beth, and of the plans that he was making for her future--which now, it seemed, was Peter's future also. Peter told him something of his own history and how he had met Jim Coast on the _Bermudian_. Then McGuire related the story of the suppression of the outbreak at the lumber camp by the Sheriff and men from May's Landing, and the arrest of Flynn and Jacobi on charges of a.s.sault and incendiarism. Some of the men were to be deported as dangerous ”Reds.” Brierly had been temporarily put in charge at the Mills and Jesse Brown, now much chastened, was helping McGuire to restore order. Shad Wells was technically under arrest, for the coroner had ”viewed” the body of the Russian Committeeman before it had been removed by his friends and buried, and taken the testimony. But McGuire had given bail and arranged for a hearing both as to the shooting of and the death of Hawk Kennedy, when Peter was well enough to go to May's Landing.

The death of Hawk had produced a remarkable change in the character and personality of the owner of the Black Rock Reserve. His back was straighter, his look more direct, and he entered with avidity into the business of bringing order out of the chaos that had resulted from the riot. His word carried some weight, his money more, and with the completion of his arrangements with Beth Cameron, he drew again the breath of a free man.

But of all this he had said nothing to Peggy, his daughter. He had neither written to her nor telephoned, for he had no desire that she should know more than the obvious facts as to the death of Hawk Kennedy, for conflicting reports would lead to questions. Since she had suspected nothing, it was needless to bring that horror to her notice, now that the threat had pa.s.sed. McGuire was a little afraid of his colorful daughter. She talked too much and it had been decided that n.o.body, except the lawyer, Peter, Beth and Mrs. Bergen should know the source of Beth's sudden and unexpected inheritance. The girl had merely fallen heir to the estate of her father, who had died many years before, not leaving any record of this daughter, who had at last been found. All of which was the truth, so far as it went, and was enough of a story to tell Peggy when he should see her.