Part 34 (2/2)

He pulled the book towards him and bent over it, his head between his hands. After three or four minutes he stood up, red-eyed and a little defiant--

”'I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.'”

”They hadna sail'd a league, a league, A league but barely ane--”

Hester listened with eyes withdrawn, in delicacy avoiding to meet his tear-reddened ones; and just then from the upper floor a scream rang through the house--a child's scream.

Master Calvin heard it, and broke off with a grin.

”That will be Myra,” he announced. ”She's catching it!”

Had she been less distraught, Hester might have marked and sighed over his sudden relapse into odiousness. But she had risen with a white face; for scream folllowed scream overhead, and the sound tortured her.

”You don't tell me,”--she began, putting up both hands to her ears.

”No, no--there has been some accident! The poor child is calling for help!”

She ran out of the parlour, up the two flights of stairs and along a dark winding corridor, still guided by the screams. At the end of the corridor she found Susannah, pale, wringing her hands, outside a door which, however, she made no attempt to enter.

”Oh, miss, he's killing her!”

”Is the door locked?” panted Hester, at the same time flinging her weight against it as she turned the handle. It flew open, and she confronted-- not Myra, but Mr. Sam.

He stood between her and the window with an arm uplifted and in his hand a leathern strap; and while she recoiled for an instant, the strap descended across the naked back and shoulders of little Clem, who drooped under it with bowed knees, helpless, his arms extended, his wrists bound together and lashed to the bed-post. The child made no sound. The piercing screams came not from him, but from an inner room--Myra's bedroom--and from behind a closed door.

”You shall not!” Hester flung herself forward, s.h.i.+elding the child from another blow. ”Oh, what wickedness are you doing! What horrible wickedness!”

Mr. Sam had raised his arm again. The man indeed seemed to be transported with pa.s.sion, with sheer l.u.s.t of cruelty. It is doubtful if he had heard her enter. His dark face twitched distortedly in the fading light.

”I'll teach him--I'll teach him!” he panted.

”You shall not!” Hester, covering the child's limp body, could not see his face, but her eyes fell on his little s.h.i.+rt, ripped from neckband to flap, and lying on the floor as it had been torn from his body and tossed aside.

She called to Susannah, still lingering doubtfully outside upon the mat, and pointed to the door behind Mr. Sam. Susannah plucked up courage, stepped across and turned the key. An instant later, like a small wild beast uncaged, Myra came springing and crouched beside her brother, facing his tormentor with blazing eyes.

Hester, catching sight of the housekeeper's scissors which Susannah wore at her waist, motioned to her to cut the cords binding Clem's wrists.

Mr. Sam made no effort to oppose her, but stood panting, with one hand resting on the dressing-table. Susannah managed indeed to detach the scissors, but held them out falteringly, as though in sheer terror declining all responsibility.

”Give them to me, then.”

But as Susannah held them out Myra leapt up and, s.n.a.t.c.hing them, dashed upon her uncle. His hand still rested palm downwards on the dressing-table, and she struck at it. Undoubtedly the child would have stabbed it through--for, strange to say, he made no effort to fend her off or to avoid the stroke--had not Hester run in time to push her smartly by the shoulder in the very act of striking. As it was the scissor-point drove into the table, missing him by a bare two inches. Then and then only he lifted his hand and stared at it stupidly. He seemed about to speak, but turned with a click of the throat--a queer dry sound, as though a sudden thirst parched him--and walked heavily from the room.

Hester gazed after him and back at the scissors on the dressing-table.

She was reaching forward to pick them up when a cry from Susannah bade her hurry. Clem had fainted, his legs doubled beneath him, his head falling horribly back from his upstretched arms, which still, like ropes, held him fast to the bed-post.

Twenty minutes later Hester descended the stairs. Clem was in bed with his sister's arms about him; and Myra's last look at parting had been one of dumb grat.i.tude, pitifully asking pardon for old jealousies, old misunderstandings. At any other time Hester would have rejoiced over the winning of a friend.

But the sight of the weals on Clem's back had for the moment killed all feeling in her but disgust and horror. So deep was her disgust that the sight of Master Calvin, whom she surprised in the act of listening outside the door, scarcely ruffled it afresh. So complete was her horror that it left no room for astonishment when, reaching the foot of the stairs, she found Mr. Sam himself lingering in the hall, apparently awaiting her.

She walked past him with set face. All the smooth, pietistic phrases of his letter rang a chime in her brain, to be retorted upon him as soon as he dared to speak. But he did not speak. He looked up, as if awaiting her; took half a step forward; then drew aside and let her pa.s.s. She went by with set face, not sparing a look for him. In the open air she drew a long breath.

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