Part 12 (2/2)

As a matter of fact, I was beginning to feel ashamed of myself. Suppose that she _really_ had a headache! What an uncouth, pusillanimous brute I--

Just then, even as my hand fell upon the curtains, they were s.n.a.t.c.hed aside and I found myself staring into the vivid, uptilted face of the lady who had defied me and would continue to do so if my suddenly active perceptions counted for anything.

I saw nothing but the dark, indignant, imperious eyes. They fairly withered me.

In some haste, attended by the most disheartening nervousness, I tried to find my cap to remove it in the presence of royalty. Unfortunately I was obliged to release the somewhat c.u.mbersome crowbar I had been carrying about with me, and it dropped with a sullen thwack upon my toes. In moments of gravity I am always doing something like that. The pain was terrific, but I clutched at the forlorn hope that she might at least smile over my agony.

”I beg your pardon,” I began, and then discovered that I was not wearing a cap. It was most disconcerting.

”So you _would_ come,” she said, very coldly and very levelly. I have a distinct recollection of shrinking. If you have ever tried to stand flatly upon a foot whose toes are crimped by an excruciating pain you may understand something of the added discomfiture that afflicted me.

”It--it was necessary, madam,” I replied as best I could. ”You defied me. I think you should have appreciated my position--my motives--er--my--”

She silenced me--luckily, heaven knows--with a curt exclamation.

”Your position! It is intensely Napoleonic,” said she with fine irony.

Her gaze swept my horde of panting, wide-eyed house-breakers. ”What a n.o.ble victory!”

It was quite time for me to a.s.sert myself. Bowing very stiffly, I remarked:

”I regret exceedingly to have been forced to devastate my own property in such a trifling enterprise, madam. The physical loss is apparent,--you can see that for yourself,--but of course you have no means of estimating the mental destruction that has been going on for days and days. You have been hacking away at my poor, distracted brain so persistently that it really had to give way. In a measure, this should account for my present lapse of sanity. Weak-mindedness is not a crime, but an affliction.”

She did not smile.

”Well, now that you are here, Mr. Smart, may I be so bold as to inquire what you are going to do about it?”

I reflected. ”I think, if you don't mind, I'll come in and sit down.

That was a deuce of a rap I got across the toes. I am sure to be a great deal more lenient and agreeable if I'm _asked_ to come in and see you. Incidentally, I thought I'd step up to inquire how your headache is getting on. Better, I hope?”

She turned her face away. I suspected a smile.

”If you choose to bang your old castle to pieces, in order to satisfy a masculine curiosity, Mr. Smart, I have nothing more to say,” she said, facing me again--still ominously, to my despair. Confound it all, she was such a slim, helpless little thing--and all alone against a mob of burly ruffians! I could have kicked myself, but even that would have been an aimless enterprise in view of the fact that p.o.o.pend.y.k.e or any of the others could have done it more accurately than I and perhaps with greater respect. ”Will you be good enough to send your--your army away, or do you prefer to have it on hand in case I should take it into my head to attack you?”

”Take 'em away, Mr. p.o.o.pend.y.k.e,” I commanded hurriedly. I didn't mind p.o.o.pend.y.k.e hearing what she said, but it would be just like one of those beggars to understand English--and also to misunderstand it.

”And take this beastly crowbar with you, too. It has served its purpose n.o.bly.”

p.o.o.pend.y.k.e looked his disappointment, and I was compelled to repeat the order. As they crowded down the short, narrow stairway, I remarked old Conrad and his two sons standing over against the wall, three very sinister figures. They remained motionless.

”I see, madam, that you do not dismiss _your_ army,” I said, blandly sarcastic.

”Oh, you dear old Conrad!” she cried, catching sight of the hitherto submerged Schmicks. The three of them bobbed and sc.r.a.ped and grinned from ear to ear. There could be no mistaking the intensity of their joy. ”Don't look so sad, Conrad. I know you are blameless. You poor old dear!”

I have never seen any one who looked less sad than Conrad Schmick. Or could it be possible that he was crying instead of laughing? In either case I could not afford to have him doing it with such brazen discourtesy to me, so I rather peremptorily ordered him below.

”I will attend to you presently,--all of you,” said I. They did not move. ”Do you hear me?” I snapped angrily. They looked stolidly at the slim young lady.

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