Part 57 (1/2)
”Well, I've--learned the truth.”
Rouletta started; eagerly she clutched at the elder woman. ”What?
You mean--?”
”Yes. I wrung it out of Courteau. He confessed.”
”It WAS a frame-up--a plot? Oh, my dear--!”
”Exactly. But don't get hysterical. I'm the one to do that. What a night, what a day I've put in!” The speaker shuddered, and Rouletta noticed for the first time how pale, how ill she looked.
”Then Pierce is free already? He's out--?”
”Not yet. I'll tell you everything if you'll promise not to breathe a word, not to interfere until Henri has a chance to square himself. I--think I've earned the right to demand that much. I told you the whole thing was counterfeit--was the work of Joe McCaskey. I couldn't believe Henri was up to such villainy.
He's dissolute, weak, vain--anything you choose--but he's not voluntarily criminal. Well, I went to work on him. I pretended to- -” the Countess again s.h.i.+vered with disgust. ”Oh, you saw what I was doing. I hated myself, but there was no choice. Things came to a climax last night. I don't like to talk about it--think about it--but you're bound to hear. I consented to go out with him. He dragged me through the dance-halls and the saloons--made me drink with him, publicly, and with the sc.u.m of the town.” Noting the expression on her hearer's face, the Countess laughed shortly, mirthlessly. ”Shocking, wasn't it? Low, indecent, wretched? That's what everybody is saying. Dawson is humming with it. G.o.d! How he humiliated me! But I loosened his tongue. I got most of the details--not all, but enough. It was late, almost daylight, before I succeeded. He slept all day, stupefied, and so did I, when I wasn't too ill.
”He remembered something about it, he had some shadowy recollection of talking too much. When he woke up he sent for me.
Then we had it. He denied everything, of course. He lied and he twisted, but I'm the stronger--always have been. I beat him down, as usual. I could have felt sorry for the poor wretch only for what he had put me through. He went out not long ago.”
”Where to? Tell me--”
”To the Police--to Colonel Cavendish. I gave him the chance to make a clean breast of everything and save his hide, if possible.
If he weakens I'll take the bit in my teeth.”
Rouletta stood motionless for a moment; then in deep emotion she exclaimed: ”I'm so glad! And yet it must have been a terrible sacrifice. I think I understand how you must loathe yourself. It was a very generous thing to do, however. Not many women could have risen to it.”
”I--hope he doesn't make me tell. I haven't much pride left, but-- I'd like to save what remains, for you can imagine what Cavendish will think. A wife betraying her husband for her--for another man!
What a story for those women on the hill!”
Impulsively Rouletta bent forward and kissed the speaker. ”Colonel Cavendish will understand. He's a man of honor. But, after all, when a woman really--cares, there's a satisfaction, a compensation, in sacrifice, no matter how great.”
Hilda Courteau's eyes were misty, their dark-fringed lids trembled wearily shut. ”Yes,” she nodded, ”I suppose so. Bitter and sweet!
When a woman of my sort, my age and experience, lets herself really care, she tastes both. All I can hope is that Pierce never learns what he made me pay for loving him. He wouldn't understand- -yet.” She opened her eyes again and met the earnest gaze bent upon her. ”I dare say you think I feel the same toward him as you do, that I want him, that I'm hungry for him. Well, I'm not. I'm 'way past that. I've been through fire, and fire purifies. Now run along, child. I'm sure everything will come out right.”
The earlier snowfall had diminished when Rouletta stepped out into the night, but a gusty, boisterous wind had risen and this filled the air with blinding clouds of fine, hard particles, whirled up from the streets, and the girl was forced to wade through newly formed drifts that rose over the sidewalks, in places nearly to her knees. The wind flapped her garments and cut her bare cheeks like a knife; when she pushed her way into the Rialto and stamped the snow from her feet her face was wet with tears; but they were frost tears. She dried them quickly and with a song in her heart she hurried back to the lunch-counter and climbed upon her favorite stool. There it was that Doret and his two elderly companions found her.
”Well, we sprung him,” Tom announced.
”All we done was sign on the dotted line,” Jerry explained. ”But, say, if that boy hops out of town he'll cost us a lot of money.”
”How's he going to hop out?” Tom demanded. ”That's the h.e.l.l of this country--there's no getting away.”
Jerry snorted derisively. ”No gettin' away? What are you talkin'
about? Ain't the Boundary within ninety miles? 'Ain't plenty of people made get-aways? All they need is a dog-team and a few hours' start of the Police.”
”Everyt'ing's all fix',” 'Poleon told his sister. ”I had talk wit'
Pierce. He ain't comin' back here no more.”
”Not coming back?” the girl exclaimed.