In Quinton Edge's Garden
: The DoomsmanIt was late that night when the friends finally parted. Their interview
had been a trying one; it might have ended in a serious estrangement had
Constans been of nature less straightforward or Ulick of disposition
less generous. Friendship between men is a beautiful thing, but of such
delicate poise that only the touch of a finger is needed to displace it.
And the disturbing hand is generally that of a woman. Esmay had come
<
constraint should at once manifest itself.
"We'll have to drop the subject, then, or, rather, leave it where it
began," said Ulick, breaking the final pause. "Perhaps it's just as well
that I don't understand the reason why--it's even possible that you
don't know clearly yourself. I sha'n't ask you to tell me."
Constance flushed, and was angry with himself, at this evidence of a
weakness so unexpected. "It can't go on in this way," he said,
decidedly. "Neither of us could wish that, and it lies with me to make
it plain--to her, you know. Of course, you must have guessed that there
are certain contingencies----" He stopped abruptly, as the remembrance
of what Esmay had said rushed back upon him. "I don't see that Boris is
with you," he continued, gravely.
"He lies under the shadow of the southern pines--one of the first to
fall that morning when the storm of gray goose arrows drove down upon
us. A good end and perhaps the better one."
Constans was silent. Here was one of his contingencies that existed no
longer; with Boris out of the way, the decision that Esmay must make was
enormously simplified. Or was it still more infinitely complicated? With
a woman to consider, the question was not so easy to answer. Nor would
he attempt it. He rose, and put out his hand, "I am going to tell her,"
he said, simply, and Ulick, in his turn, had no further word to say; so
they parted.
It was not until noon of the following day that Constans found
opportunity to set out for Arcadia House, for all that morning he had
been kept in close attendance at the temple. The old priest had
displayed a new and astonishingly practical interest in the mysterious
power that had been for so long under his nominal control; he had even
joined Constans in the latter's daily task of cleaning and polishing up
the working-parts of the machinery, and, as they worked, he had
questioned him searchingly.
"The Shining One may be a god or no," he said, cunningly, "but it is
meet that I should know him better, if only to serve him the more
faithfully. You, my son, are wise, and you will tell me what you have
learned from your books, that it may be added to all that our fathers
have handed down by word of mouth. So shall our lord have great honor,
and the unbelievers be put to shame."
Constans had no recourse but to obey, and for several hours they worked
steadily, experimenting with the intricacies of switch-board and
commutator, stringing various wires about the hall and noting the
conditions under which they might be charged and discharged from the
central source of power. Dangerous work, as they came to realize after
Constans had narrowly escaped being burned by contact with a live wire.
Yet undeniably fascinating, this uncovering of a great world secret,
this sense of growing mastery over a power that could be none else than
twin-brother to the thunderbolt. But the face of the old man gave no
sign, no one could have guessed whether he now believed all or believed
nothing. Certainly he was proving himself an astonishingly apt pupil,
his years of practical experience with the machines admirably
supplementing Constans's theoretical knowledge. It was not until mid-day
that he gave the order to shut down the engines, and Constans was at
liberty.
He walked rapidly in the direction of Arcadia House, for this was the
hour of the principal meal with the Doomsmen, and the streets were
entirely deserted. The abnormally high temperature of yesterday still
prevailed, although the sky was clear, and everywhere could be heard the
sound of running and dripping water. The snow, that twenty-four hours
ago lay a foot deep upon the ground, was now a mass of slush, making
locomotion exceedingly disagreeable. How hot the sun was! it might have
been midsummer instead of the last of March; how oddly sounded the
premature chirping of the birds in the leafless trees!
Arcadia House was once more in sight, and Constans's first thought was
for the signal. It was still flying from the cupola window, but that
fact, of itself, meant little. All or nothing might have happened in the
twenty-four hours that had elapsed since its first setting.
The rope-ladder was in its hiding-place, and Constans, by its aid, was
quickly on the garden wall. Here he waited for an instant, to look and
listen.
All was quiet, and there was no sign of life in the closely shuttered
house. The snow in this exposed and sunny enclosure had entirely
disappeared; there would be no fear of his footprints being noticed. The
dogs--but Esmay had assured him that they would be kept in leash so long
as the signal was flying. He wasted no further time in reflection, but
descended into Quinton Edge's garden.
The plantation of spruce-trees screened him for the moment; then he ran
swiftly across the open space and reached the shelter of the pavilion.
It was empty, but he had expected that; he had previously set his
answering signal at the window of a house overlooking the garden at the
back, and he would now have to wait until Esmay should find opportunity
to join him.
An hour passed, and there was no sign of her appearance. Constans grew
restless, impatient, uneasy, until finally inaction became intolerable.
Certainly Esmay should have come by this time, supposing that she had
observed his answering signal. She might be absent, ill, a prisoner.
He looked searchingly at the apparently deserted house; the bold thought
struck him to examine it more closely, even at the risk of discovery. He
had his rope-ladder with him, and, at a pinch, could make a run for it.
Along the northern wall of the enclosure there was a wind-break of
evergreens that would protect him up to the sunken carriageway, and,
surely, he could adventure thus far and then trust Fortune and his own
wits for the next move.
The piece of open ground was some seventy yards in width; he crossed it
at speed and dived into the shadow of the trees, keeping close to the
wall as he worked along. He reached the road without misadventure and
dropped lightly down upon its stone-paved surface. It was cool and damp
in this semi-subterranean causeway; the stone flagging was blotched with
lichenous growth, and ferns flourished rankly in the wall crevices.
Constans stood for a moment gazing up at the blank facade of the north
wing, wondering how best to proceed. Then, suddenly, a face appeared at
a window; Esmay herself was looking down upon him in wide-eyed
astonishment. She hesitated, then motioned him towards the eastern or
river side of the house, and he obeyed unquestioningly. Following the
driveway around, he found himself before the pillared portico that
masked the front of the main edifice; springing up the steps, he met her
standing at one of the long windows that opened off the drawing-room of
the mansion. She drew back, inviting him to enter.
"You are very foolish," she said, in a whisper, yet looked upon him
approvingly as a woman always must upon the man who dares.
"I told you that I would come," he answered. "Yesterday it was the
unexpected that happened, the return of the expedition. Between the
storm and Ulick, you and the signal were clean put out of mind until too
late."
She flushed. "Then you have seen Ulick?"
"Yes; he is safe and well." He hesitated. How should he tell her the
truth about the other? He ended by blurting it out.
"You know that Boris--he will not return."
"He is dead?"
Constans nodded. The girl turned and looked out of the window for
perhaps half a minute.
"I was to have decided between them this very day. He who is my master
had so determined, and that is why I sent for you. For indeed I
cannot----" She stopped; it was so difficult to put into words what must
be said. Then she went on, speaking softly:
"If it had finally come to that, I must have named Boris, for I could
have gone on hating him just the same as before. With Ulick it is
different, for he really cared."
"But now," interrupted Constans, impatiently, "it is no longer a
question of choice, but of a decision."
"I have already come to it," she returned. "I must escape from Doom; I
cannot stay here for even another day."
In their absorption neither noticed how the door leading into the
central hall slowly opened. It remained ajar, its very attitude that of
a listener.
"You want my help," said Constans, half to himself. He was casting over
in his mind the effect that the death of Boris might have upon Quinton
Edge's intrigues, and he could not but conclude that Esmay had become a
factor more necessary than ever in their successful development. Ulick
was now the sole heir to the old Dom Gillian, and he was hostile to
Quinton Edge. Only through Ulick's passion for this slip of a girl
could the Doomsman hope to control him. What an admirable stroke, then,
to snatch the card from his hand before he had a chance to play it.
"I will help you," he continued, aloud. "But where to find a boat?"
"There is a canoe which is generally kept moored at the garden dock; you
can see it from the terrace. It is a good, stout dugout, and, oh----"
"Well?"
"There is Nanna, my sister; I cannot go without her."
"She is in no danger," said Constans, with calm indifference. "The boat
will carry only two--is that it?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then; Nanna must remain behind."
"It is impossible to leave her; I have promised."
"No; it is her coming that is impossible, and because I say so."
The girl remained silent. Had she yielded to a will stronger than her
own? The door seemed to hesitate; then it closed noiselessly.
Esmay crossed over to one of the windows opening on the garden grounds
and flung the shutters open. The coolness of the later afternoon breeze
fell gratefully upon her hot cheeks; the horizontal, reddish-rays of the
declining sun emphasized the warm coloring of her hair and complexion,
and brought out again those curious carmine flecks in her eyes of topaz
that Constans had noticed once or twice before. An odd combination, but
he realized now that he had thought it pretty. The girl divined the
unspoken word and drew back a trifle.
Retreat is the first and essential principle of feminine strategy, and
in practice it should suggest the ambuscade to even the most thoughtless
of masculine minds. But it never does. Constans stepped up a little
closer.
"Nanna must go with me," repeated the girl, hurriedly. "You will help us
to get out the boat and tell me in what direction Croye lies. We shall
find our way, never fear, for I know the stars, and Nanna can paddle all
day long as well as a man."
"And what will you do when you get to Croye?" asked Constans, gently.
"Must you hear the whole truth about your uncle, Messer Hugolin? It is
not that he is unable but unwilling to turn a hand in your behalf. The
humblest shelter, the meanest food--I know what you would say. But not
even a night's housing in the cattle-byre or a plate of broken victuals
is to be had from Messer Hugolin unless one is prepared to pay, and
roundly, too. Remember that I, too, am of his blood, and have dwelt in
his house."
The girl's eyes grew cloudy and troubled. "There is the town itself,"
she faltered. "Surely among so many people there must be some chance for
a livelihood--there is work---"
"Not of the honest kind and for such as you," he retorted. "Must I make
you understand? Look at yourself, then, in the glass behind you."
Suddenly he took her hand between both his own. "Who would dare hint at
work to those fingers so slimly white? But one may live delicately, even
in Croye."
The girl recoiled as though from a blow, and Constans felt the shame of
having actually struck one. "But not you," he stammered, and raged
inwardly at himself. She forgave him in a look. "But, Esmay," he said,
humbly. She smiled to him to go on.
"You are thinking of the world beyond, but indeed you do not know
it--its cruelty to the weak, above all to a woman. Here, at least----"
"Here the least of all," she interrupted, but would not look at him to
make her meaning clearer.
"Yet you see how I could not let you go alone or even with Nanna," he
urged.
"Yes, I understand that. What is it that you wish me to do?"
Constans started. Was he, then, prepared to make himself responsible for
this young creature's future? Of course she could not remain longer in a
position so dangerous and equivocal. But why should she not be
reasonable? It was true that Nanna was quite capable of managing the
boat; he had only to assist them to get away and give the word to Ulick
that he might follow. Ulick would go to the end of the world to serve
her.
A thoroughly sensible solution of the problem, and then in a twinkle
Constans forgot that he had ever wanted Esmay to be reasonable, forgot
the faith owed to a friend and the vengeance sworn against an enemy,
forgot times and seasons and the peril in which they stood, forgot all
things save that he was a man and she was a woman, and that he had
suddenly come to desire her above all else in life.
"A woman, and some day he would come to know what that meant." Now he
knew.
Esmay stood waiting for the answer to her question.
"You cannot go alone," he said, in a half-whisper, "and your sister's
protection is useless. You will have to trust yourself to me."
Esmay had turned away her head, but a treacherous mirror intercepted the
confession in her eyes and flung it back to him who had compelled its
utterance. Now a man may never yet have seen that look on a woman's
face, but he need not fear lest he fail to recognize it when at last his
time comes. Constans saw, and suddenly the primeval passion of the world
seized and shook him. "I want you," he said, and would have taken
her--then stopped, confounded and appalled.
Through the open window came the sharp, staccato yelp of a hound at
field. Yes; the dogs were out, and already they were at work, ranging in
great semicircles, alert with the joy of the chase. There was Blazer,
with his tawny muzzle, and behind him Fangs, the great, black bitch,
half mastiff and half bloodhound, the saliva dripping from her jaws as
she ran. Constans drew a deep breath as he watched them. Already they
were nearing the pavilion; in a few seconds at the farthest they would
be giving tongue upon the striking of his scent. He must decide quickly
then, and he turned to Esmay.
A black suspicion gathered in Constans's mind as he looked upon her mute
agony and misinterpreted it.
"What is it?" he asked, with rising anger, but she answered no word. The
memory of the ancient betrayal rushed back upon him.
"Perhaps another bracelet of carbuncles?" She shrank back as though from
a blow.
"Esmay!" he said, roughly, and shook her by the shoulders, not being in
fear for himself but intent upon knowing the truth, however incredible.
Then as she still gave no sign he flung her from him and strode away,
the flame of a fierce anger in his heart. To die here--the base fate of
a runaway slave upon whose trail the master has set his hounds--no, it
should not be! Yet, with only his bare hands, for there was not even a
billet of wood lying about--well, if it must be-- Then he bethought him
of the boat that Esmay had told him was always kept moored at the garden
landing-stage. He glanced out and saw that the canoe had disappeared. He
turned to the girl and announced the fact. "If indeed it were ever
there," he added. It seemed as though her eyes pointed to the door
leading to the other part of the house, but he shook his head. "I would
rather meet it in the open," he said, coldly.
He considered a moment longer, and threw off his black soutane, having
determined to take to the water, although it was truly a desperate
chance, the current running like a mill-race with the ebbing tide, and,
moreover, being choked with ice-floes. Ah, there was Blazer's bay, he
must lose no time. Without another glance at that silent, rigid figure,
he stepped quickly through the long window and gained the portico.
Something snapped in the girl's throat, her lips quivered hysterically,
and she laughed aloud, a flood of silvery sound.
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Presently Graham resumed his examination of his apartments. Curiosity kept him moving in spite of his fatigue. The inner room, he perceived, was high, and its ceiling dome shaped', with an oblong aperture in the centre, opening into a funnel in ... In The Storm
Leatherhead is about twelve miles from Maybury Hill. The scent of hay was in the air through the lush meadows beyond Pyrford, and the hedges on either side were sweet and gay with multitudes of dog-roses. The heavy firing that had broken out... In The Street
The three men gathered in the street outside the house. The night was slightly frosty, but particularly clear, with an east wind blowing. The multitude of blazing stars caused the sky to appear like a vast scroll of hieroglyphic symbols. Maskull fel... In The Sunlight
Presently we saw that the cavern before us opened upon a hazy void. In another moment we had emerged upon a sort of slanting gallery, that projected into a vast circular space, a huge cylindrical pit running vertically up and down. Round this pit th... In The Toils Of Horror
What the creature had told her gave Tara of Helium food for thought. She had been taught that every created thing fulfilled some useful purpose, and she tried conscientiously to discover just what was the rightful place of the kaldane in the univers... In The Twilight Country
Mercer sat on the rear end of the platform and waved good-by vigorously as he was carried swiftly up and out over the water. Under him was a pile of blankets and a coat, and beside him a box of baked dough-like bread--the food he was to turn over ... In Transit
The eighth chapter is exceedingly brief, and relates that Gibbons, the amateur naturalist of the district, while lying out on the spacious open downs without a soul within a couple of miles of him, as he thought, and almost dozing, heard close to ... Indirect Action
The afternoon following the homecoming of the Skylark, Seaton and Dorothy returned from a long horseback ride in the park. After Seaton had mounted his motorcycle Dorothy turned toward a bench in the shade of an old elm to watch a game of tennis o... Indirection
The best way to keep a secret is to publish it in a quite unbelievable form--and insist that it is the truth. Elwar Forell leaned back in his chair, looking about the small dining salon. The usual couples were there, he noticed. Of course,... Injury
St. Thomas, Monday, 17 June 2571 CE Captain Mike Odeon cursed in angry frustration as he climbed out of his command van into a late fall New Pennsylvania evening and signalled his Special Operations team forward. They were too late. ... Inquiries Unsatisfied
Fast as his legs could carry him, Servadac had made his way to the top of the cliff. It was quite true that a vessel was in sight, hardly more than six miles from the shore; but owing to the increase in the earth's convexity, and the consequent li... Inside The Sphere
"Go on," said Cavor, as I sat across the edge of the manhole, and looked down into the black interior of the sphere. We two were alone. It was evening, the sun had set, and the stillness of the twilight was upon everything. I drew my other leg in... Insomnia
One afternoon, at low water, Mr. Isbister, a young artist lodging at Boscastle, walked from that place to the picturesque cove of Pentargen, desiring to examine the caves there. Halfway down the precipitous path to the Pentargen beach he came su... Instructive Conversation
On the fourth of December, the Projectile chronometers marked five o'clock in the morning, just as the travellers woke up from a pleasant slumber. They had now been 54 hours on their journey. As to lapse of time, they had passed not much more than... Interesting Conversations With Icelandic Savants
Dinner was ready. Professor Liedenbrock devoured his portion voraciously, for his compulsory fast on board had converted his stomach into a vast unfathomable gulf. There was nothing remarkable in the meal itself; but the hospitality of our host, mor...