Part 24 (1/2)

”If I could only help!” exclaimed Inez. ”It is not fair that strangers to my father should be taking a risk that should fall to one of his children. It would mean so much, it would make me so happy, if I could feel I had done any little thing for him. You cannot know how grateful I am to you all, to your friends, and to you!” Her eyes opened wide in sympathy. ”And you were so ill,” she exclaimed, ”and the fever is so likely to return. I do not see how it is possible for you to work at night at El Morro and by day on the light-house and not break down. We have no right to permit it.”

”My health,” explained Roddy dryly, ”is in no danger from overwork. I am not employed by the company any longer. If I like I can sleep all day. I've discharged myself. I've lost my job.”

”You have quarrelled with your father,” said the girl quickly, ”on account of my father? You must not!” she exclaimed. ”Indeed, we cannot accept such a sacrifice.”

”The misunderstanding with my father,” Roddy a.s.sured her, ”is one of long standing. I've never made a success of what he's given me to do, and this is only the last of a series of failures. You mustn't try to make me out an unselfish person. I am sacrificing nothing. Rather, in a way, I have gained my independence. At least, if I get a position now, people can't say I obtained it through my father's influence. Of course, it's awkward to be poor,” added Roddy dispa.s.sionately, ”because I had meant to ask you to marry me.”

With an exclamation the girl partly rose and then sank back, retreating to the farthest limit of the bench.

”Mr. Forrester!” she began with spirit.

”I know what you're going to say,” interrupted Roddy confidently. ”But I ought to tell you that that doesn't weigh with me at all. I never could see,” he exclaimed impatiently, ”why, if you love a girl, the fact that she is engaged should make any difference--do _you_? It is, of course, an obstacle, but if you are the right man, and the other man is not, it certainly is best for everybody that you should make that plain to her before she marries the wrong man. In your case it certainly has made no difference to me, and I mean to fight for you until you turn back from the altar. Of course, when Vega told me you were engaged to him it was a shock; but you must admit I didn't let it worry me much. I told you as soon as I saw you that I loved you----”

The girl was looking at him so strangely that Roddy was forced to pause.

”I beg your pardon!” he said.

The eyes of Inez were searching his closely. When she spoke her voice was cold and even.

”Then it was Colonel Vega,” she said, ”who told you I was engaged to him.”

”Of course,” said Roddy. ”He told me the night we crossed from Curacao.”

Deep back in the serious, searching eyes Roddy thought that for an instant he detected a smile, mischievous and mocking; but as he leaned forward the eyes again grew grave and critical. With her head slightly on one side and with her hands clasped on her knee, Inez regarded him with curiosity.

”And that made no difference to you?” she asked.

”Why should it?” demanded Roddy. ”A cat can look at a king; why may not I look at the most wonderful and lovely----”

In the same even tones of one asking an abstract question the girl interrupted him.

”But you must have known,” she said, ”that I would not engage myself to any man unless I loved him. Or do you think that, like the women here, I would marry as I was told?”

Roddy, not at all certain into what difficulties her questions were leading him, answered with caution.

”No,” he replied doubtfully, ”I didn't exactly think that, either.”

”Then,” declared the girl, ”you must have thought, no matter how much I loved the man to whom I was engaged, that you could make me turn from him.”

Roddy held out his hands appealingly.

”Don't put it that way!” he begged. ”I've never thought I was better than any other man. I certainly never thought I was good enough for you. All I'm sure of is that no man on earth can care for you more.

It's the best thing, the only big thing, that ever came into my life.

And now it's the only thing left. Yesterday I thought I was rich, and I was glad because I had so much to offer you. But now that I've no money at all, now that I'm the Disinherited One, it doesn't seem to make any difference. At least, it would not to me. Because if I could make you care as I care for you, it wouldn't make any difference to you, either. No one on earth could love you more,” pleaded Roddy. ”I know it. I feel it. There is nothing else so true! Other men may bring other gifts, but 'Mine is the heart at your feet! He that hath more,'”

he challenged, ”'let him give!' All I know,” he whispered fiercely, ”is, that I _love_ you, I _love_ you, I _love_ you!”

He was so moved, he felt what he said so truly, it was for him such happiness to speak, that his voice shook and, unknown to him, the tears stood in his eyes. In answer, he saw the eyes of the girl soften, her lips drew into a distracting and lovely line. Swiftly, with an ineffable and gracious gesture, she stooped, and catching up one of his hands held it for an instant against her cheek, and then, springing to her feet, ran from him up the garden path to the house.

Astounded, jubilant, in utter disbelief of his own senses, Roddy sat motionless. In dumb grat.i.tude he gazed about him at the beautiful sunlit garden, drinking in deep draughts of happiness.