Part 44 (1/2)

Gifford started. ”Sit down a moment,” he said, waving aside d.i.c.k's hand.

”Surely you are not leaving Ashurst for any length of time?”

”Length of time?” answered the other, laughing. ”Well, I rather think so.

I expect to go abroad next month.”

A curious desire came into Gifford Woodhouse's strong hands to take this boy by the throat, and shake him until his ceaseless smile was torn to pieces. Instead of that, however, he folded his arms, and stood looking down at his companion in silence.

d.i.c.k had seated himself again, and was twirling his wet umbrella round and round by the s.h.i.+ny end of one of the ribs. ”Yes,” he said, ”this is a long good-by to Ashurst.”

”Mr. Forsythe,” said Gifford, with an edge of anger in his voice which could not have escaped even a more indifferent ear than d.i.c.k's, ”may I ask if Dr. Howe knows of your plans?”

d.i.c.k looked up, with a sudden ugly shadow coming across the sunny brightness of his face. ”I don't know what I've done to deserve this concern on your part, Mr. Woodhouse; but, since you ask, I have no objection to saying that Dr. Howe does not particularly interest himself in my affairs. I don't know whether he's aware of my plans, and I care less.”

He rose, and stood grasping his wet umbrella mid-ways, looking defiantly into Gifford's face. It was singular how instantly, in some wordless way, he appreciated that he had been blamed.

Gifford began to speak in the slow, measured tone which showed how he was guarding his words. ”You may not care for his interest,” he said, ”but you can scarcely expect that he would not notice your absence.”

”I cannot see that my movements are of so much importance to Dr. Howe,”

d.i.c.k answered, ”and he certainly has never taken it upon himself to meddle in my affairs to the extent of asking me about them.”

”Nevertheless,” said Gifford, with ominous gentleness, ”he must feel--surprise at your departure. That your business should take you away at this time, Mr. Forsythe, is unfortunate.”

”I know my business, at least,” cried the other loudly, his voice trembling with anger, ”and I'm capable of attending to it without suggestions from you! I'll trouble you to speak plainly, instead of hinting. What right have you to question my leaving Ashurst?”

”No right,” Gifford said calmly.

”Why don't you speak out like a man?” Forsythe demanded with a burst of rage, striking the table with his fist. ”What do you mean by your d.a.m.ned impudence? So you dare to question my conduct to Lois Howe, do you?--you confounded prig!”

”Be silent!” Gifford said between his teeth. ”Gentlemen do not introduce the name of a woman into their discussions. You forgot yourself. It is unnecessary to pursue this subject. I have nothing more to say.”

”But I have more to say. Who gave you the right to speak to me? The lady herself? She must be indeed distressed to choose you for a messenger.”

Gifford did not answer; for a moment the dark room was very still, except for the beating rain and the tapping of the ivy at the south window.

”Or perhaps,” he went on, a sneer curling his handsome mouth, ”you will comfort her yourself, instead? Well, you're welcome.”

Gifford's hands clenched on the back of the chair in front of him. ”Sir,”

he said, ”this place protects you, and you know it.”

But d.i.c.k Forsythe was beside himself with anger. He laughed insultingly.

”I'll not detain you any longer. Doubtless you will wish to go to the rectory to-night. But I'm afraid, even though I'm obliging enough to leave Ashurst, you will have no”--He did not finish his sentence. Gifford Woodhouse's hand closed like a vise upon his collar. There were no words.

d.i.c.k's struggles were as useless as beating against a rock; his maddest efforts could not shake off that relentless hand. Gifford half pushed, half carried, him to the door, and in another moment d.i.c.k Forsythe found himself flung like a snapping cur in the mud and rain of Mr. Denner's garden.

He gathered himself up, and saw Gifford standing in the doorway, as though to offer him a chance of revenge.

”d.a.m.n you!” he screamed, furious with pa.s.sion. ”I'll pay you for this!

I--I”--He choked with rage, and shook his fist at the motionless figure on the steps. Then, trembling with impotent fury, oaths stumbling upon his lips, he turned and rushed into the gathering darkness.