Part 35 (2/2)
”Don't seem much chance to get out, does there, parson? Well, I reckon it won't hurt your conscience particularly. Bill! Where's Bill?”
”You sent him to guard the front door,” explained Jones.
”That's right, I did. You'll do just as well. Go up stairs, an' bring the girl down. She's with the old man, an' Culberson is guarding the door.
Better not say what she's wanted for. Just tell her Captain Grant wishes to speak to her a moment.”
Jones straightened up, and pushed past the preacher, the stairs creaking under his weight as he went up over my head. Grant arose, and stood looking out the window into the glow of the suns.h.i.+ne, and Jenks dropped into the nearest chair, still staring across the table at f.a.gin. For the first time I seemed to entirely grasp the situation. I got to my feet, yet dare not move so much as a step, for f.a.gin was facing the hallway. It apparently would be better to wait until after the girl came down stairs, until those in the house were all together, before we struck. I wanted to know what she would say, how she would act, when she understood what was proposed. The time allowed me for decision was short, as it seemed scarcely a minute before I heard their footsteps above.
CHAPTER x.x.xIV
A THREATENED MARRIAGE
f.a.gin heard them coming and took his boots from the table, and sat up straight in his chair; the preacher pushed his back until half concealed behind the door; Grant never looked around. Jones came into view first, and behind him walked Claire, her cheeks flushed, her head held high. At the door she paused, refusing to enter, her eyes calmly surveying the occupants.
”You sent for me, sir,” she said coldly. ”May I ask for what purpose?”
Even f.a.gin's cool insolence was unable to withstand unmoved her beauty and her calmness of demeanor. Apparently he had never met her before, for, with face redder than ever, he got to his feet, half bowing, and stammering slightly.
”My name is f.a.gin, Mistress,” he said, striving to retain his accustomed roughness. ”I reckon you have heard of me.”
”I have,” proudly, her eyes meeting his, ”and, therefore, wonder what your purpose may be in ordering me here. I wish to return to my father who requires my services.”
The guerilla laughed, now angered by her manner.
”Well, I thought I'd tell you who I was so you wouldn't try any high and mighty business,” he said coa.r.s.ely, and eying her fiercely. ”That ain't the sort o' thing that goes with me, an' yer ain't the first one I've taken down a peg or two. However, I don't mean you no harm, only you'd better behave yourself. Yer know that man over there, don't yer?”
He indicated with a nod of the head, and Claire glanced in that direction, but without speaking.
”Well, can't you answer?”
”I recognize Captain Grant, if that is what you mean.”
”I was speaking English, wasn't I? Yer ought ter know him--yer engaged ter him, ain't yer?”
”Certainly not,” indignantly.
Grant turned about, his face twitching.
”This is not my fault, Claire,” he exclaimed swiftly. ”Don't blame me for it. I am also a prisoner, and helpless.”
She never looked at him, never answered, her entire attention concentrated on f.a.gin, who was grinning with enjoyment.
”That's sure right, young lady,” he said grimly. ”The Captain is only obeyin' orders ter save his own neck. There's no love lost atween us, let me tell yer. But we're not so blame merciless after all, an', I reckon, we've got about all thar is in the house worth cartin' away. Now we're goin' to have some fun, an' leave two happy hearts behind. Ain't that it, Jones? Clinton's licked; Was.h.i.+ngton has his hands full up north; an' this hull blame country is ours. Somewhere, Mistress, I've heard tell that you an' this Captain was pretty thick--how is it?”
Her eyes exhibited indignant surprise, but, after an instant's hesitation, her lips answered.
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