Part 19 (2/2)
”Of course!” He sat very erect in his chair. He smiled confidently. ”In a fight between a rogue and honest men, the honest men win ultimately, and always. The green bay tree of the unrighteous grows with luxuriance but withers in time inevitably. I shall follow him till I win.”
”And your career?” she asked incredulously. ”Your profession?”
He smiled.
”That will be my career--to defeat Landon. Is it a reputable one for a gentleman?”
She made a motion of protest.
”But--but that is self-sacrifice, one which we couldn't accept. Why should you do this for us?”
He shook his head again.
”No,” he said. ”I must repeat it, I work for myself. I seek my own interest, and that, in the first place, is to make you just. I see but the one way to do it. I have to convince you that I am in earnest, have I not?”
Again that baffling allusion. In earnest in what? In defeating Landon, in attempting the rescue of the child? Surely he had proved that already. And yet how could she counter a point which she could not help allowing she now understood; how could she do it without the loss of dignity implied in an explanation? But it was grotesque. He had known her a bare week. He had met her on four occasions.
She looked up, met his eyes, and dropped her own. A tiny sense of panic overtook her. He sat there, indomitable. Suppose--suppose he ultimately made his purpose good. She made herself look at him again. He had, at any rate, good looks to recommend him. And courage and the respect of his fellows. But--again a wave of exasperation flowed over her mind. Oh, it was outrageous, unthinkable. An Aylmer--another Aylmer. Unconsciously her lips curved in a half sarcastic smile. Why, the very newspapers of the world would pile headline upon headline over such a fiasco. She stiffened with resentment, with a sense of being played with. Her voice was chill with a note of dignity outraged.
”I think the fact of your proposing to devote time and strength to the pursuit of--of your cousin is a very convincing one, Captain Aylmer,”
she answered. ”The point is that we have no right to accept so much from you.”
He smiled joyously.
”I shall always want to be giving, to you. Always, always. Please understand that. My service is to you, and so to myself. Try to think of me in that light, patiently.”
And then a sort of desperation seized her. She probed her mind for a form of words which should give him no further loophole to persist in his veiled menaces, for she could call them no less, one that should seize a meaning out of his allusions and crush it with a directness which could not be misunderstood. Her eyes grew hard; she rose to her feet.
A step sounded in the hall, and the hangings were pushed aside. Her father stood before them.
He looked at Aylmer with amazed reproach. His face, already haggard with anxiety, took on new lines of concern.
”My dear sir!” he protested. ”My dear sir!”
And Aylmer could not resist a smile. It was the form of protest which he had used at their former meeting to veil--what? Antipathy? And now? The words were full of genuine concern. He read no longer dislike in Mr. Van Arlen's glance. The elder man's eyes had softened as they reached his.
He warded off further reproaches with a question.
”The news?” he cried eagerly. ”The news is what?”
”Good, in so far that we can gauge the direction of their flight. They have been seen pa.s.sing Arzeila; the morning's gale has prevented their attempt to reach any port of Spain.”
”And so--?”
”And so we start in pursuit with my yacht, within the hour.”
Aylmer stood up.
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