Part 7 (1/2)

”That will do,” she hissed, advancing menacingly upon Christine. ”I always felt you were a spy. But you shall not stay prying here another day. Pack your things and go at once.”

”Come, come, Mrs. van Cannan,” interposed Saxby soothingly; ”I am sure you are unjust to Miss Chaine. Besides, how can she go at once? There is nothing for her to travel by until the cart returns from Cradock.”

But the woman he addressed had lost all control of herself.

”She goes tomorrow, cart or no cart!” she shouted, and struck one clenched fist on the other. ”We will see who is mistress at Blue Aloes!”

Christine cast at her the look of a well-bred woman insulted by a brawling fishwife, and with Roddy's hand tightly in hers, walked out of the veranda without deigning to answer.

But though her mien was haughty as she walked away from Saxby's bungalow holding Roddy's hand, her spirits were at zero. She had burned her boats with a vengeance, and come out into the open to face an enemy who would stick at nothing, and who, apparently, had everyone at the farm at her side, including the big, good-natured-seeming Saxby.

It would be difficult to stay on at Blue Aloes and protect Roddy if his stepmother insisted on her departure, and she did not see how she was going to do it. She only knew that nothing and no one should budge her from the place. Something dogged in her upheld her from dismay and determined her to take a stand against the whole array of them. She was in the right, and it was her plain duty to do as Bernard van Cannan had besought, and not go until she could place Roddy in his father's hands with the full story of his persecutions.

”Tell me about it, Roddy,” she said quietly, as they walked away.

”Don't hide anything. You know that I love you and that your father has trusted you to my care.”

”Yes,” he a.s.sented eagerly; ”but how did you know about my real mammie being dead?” His natural resilience had already helped him to surmount the terror just past, and he was almost himself again. ”I wanted to tell you, but I had promised mamma not to tell any one.”

It was as Christine had supposed. She explained her finding of the tombstone and the yellow rose, but not the rest of her terrible conclusions.

”I put it there,” he said shyly. ”She always loved yellow and red flowers. I was keeping the other two for her and Carol in the graveyard.”

Christine squeezed the warm little hand, but continued her questions steadily.

”What happened after you had been to the outhouse?”

”Mamma was waiting for me on the stoep. She said she wanted me to come with her to see Mrs. Saxby.” He added, with the sudden memory of surprise: ”But we _didn't_ see Mrs. Saxby. I wonder where she was.”

The same wonder seized Christine. Where could the unhappy, distraught creature have been hiding while the trial of Roddy was in process?

”What happened then?”

”We just went into the sitting-room, and Mr. Saxby got the box and the k.n.o.bkerries and his revolver, and mamma said, 'Now, Roddy, there is a snake in that box, and I want you to prove you are not a coward like last night by taking off the lid.'” He shuddered violently. ”But I couldn't. Oh, Miss Chaine, am I a coward?” he pleaded.

”No, darling; you are _not_,” she said emphatically. ”n.o.body in their senses would touch a box with a snake in it. It was very wrong to ask you to.”

He looked at her gratefully.

”Then you opened the window. Oh, how glad I felt! It was just like as if G.o.d had sent you, for my heart felt as if it was calling out to you all the time. Perhaps you heard it and that made you come?”

”I did, Roddy,” she said earnestly, ”I ran all the way from the outhouse, because I felt you were in need of me.”

They were nearly home when they saw Saltire and his boys close beside their path. Roddy was urgent to stop and talk, but Christine made the fact that heavy rain-drops were beginning to fall an excuse for hurrying on, and indeed in Saltire's face there was no invitation to linger, for, though he smiled at Roddy, Christine had never seen him so cold and forbidding-looking.

”He knows that I know,” she thought, ”and, base as he is, that disturbs him.” The bitter thought brought her no consolation. She felt desolate and alone, like one lost in a desert, with a great task to accomplish and no friend in sight or sign in the skies. In the house, she collected the little girls, and they spent the rest of the afternoon together. The storm had broke suddenly, and the long-threatened rain came at last, las.h.i.+ng up the earth and battering on the window-panes amid deafening claps of thunder and a furious gale of wind.

When bath-time came for the children, Christine stayed with them until the last moment, superintending Meekie. She would have given worlds to avoid going in to dinner that night. No one could have desired food less, or the society of those with whom she must partake of it. Yet she felt that it would be a sign of weakness and a concession to the enemy if she stayed away, so she dressed as usual and went in to face the dreary performance of sitting an hour or so with people whom she held in fear as well as contempt, for she knew not from moment to moment what new offence she might have to meet. Only great firmness of spirit and her natural good breeding sustained her through that trying meal.

Saltire did not put in an appearance, for which small mercy she was fain to thank G.o.d. Deeply as he had wounded and offended her, she hated to see his face as she had seen it that afternoon. Mrs. van Cannan, oddly pallid but with burning eyes, absolutely ignored the presence of the governess, and her lead was followed by all save Andrew McNeil, who was no man's man but his own, and always treated the girl with genial friendliness. As a matter of fact, there was but little conversation, for the sound of the rain, swis.h.i.+ng down on the roof and windows and tearing through the trees without, deadened the sound of voices, and everyone seemed distrait.

Christine was not the only one who finished her meal hurriedly. As she rose, asking to be excused, Mrs. van Cannan, rising too, detained her.