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Title:TheWildOlive
Author:BasilKing
ReleaseDate:August18,2004[EBook#13212]
Language:English
***STARTOFTHISPROJECTGUTENBERGEBOOKTHEWILDOLIVE***
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"Thereareahundredmenbeatingthemountaintofindyou"
"Thereareahundredmenbeatingthemountaintofindyou"
THEWILDOLIVE
ANOVEL
BYTHEAUTHOROF
THEINNERSHRINE
[BASILKING]
ILLUSTRATEDBY
LUCIUSHITCHCOCK
NEWYORK
GROSSET&DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
PUBLISHEDBYARRANGEMENTWITHHARPER&BROTHERS
Copyright,1910,byHarper&Brothers
AllRightsReserved
PublishedMay,1910
PrintedintheUnitedStatesofAmerica
PARTI
FORD
I
Findinghimselfinthelevelwood-road,whoseopenaisledrewalong,
straightstreakacrossthesky,stillluminouswiththelate-lingering
Adirondacktwilight,thetallyoungfugitive,hatless,coatless,and
barefooted,pausedaminuteforreflection.Ashepaused,helistened;but
alldistinctivenessofsoundwaslostintheplayofthewind,uphilland
downdale,throughchasmandovercrag,inthoseuncountedleaguesof
forest.Itwasonlyasummerwind,softandfromthesouth;butits
murmurhadthesweepoftheeternalbreath,while,whenitwaxedin
power,itroseliketheswellofsomegreatcosmicorgan.Throughthe
pinesandintheunderbrushitwhisperedandcrackledandcrashed,with
avarietyofeffectstrangelybewilderingtotheyoungman'scity-nurtured
senses.Therewereminuteswhenhefeltthatnotonlythefourcountry
constableswhomhehadescapedwereabouttoburstuponhim,butthat
weirdarmiesofgnomeswerereadytotramplehimdown.
Outoftheconfusionofwood-noises,inwhichhisunpractisedearcould
distinguishnothing,hewaitedforarepetitionoftheshotswhichafew
hoursagohadbeentheprotestofhisguards;but,nonecoming,hesped
onagain.Heweighedthedangerofrunningintheopenagainstthe
opportunitiesforspeed,anddecidedinfavorofthelatter.Hitherto,in
accordancewithawoodcraftinventedtomeettheemergency,and
entirelyhisown,hehadavoidedanythinginthenatureofaroadora
pathway,inordertotakeadvantageofthetracklessnesswhichformed
hisobviousprotection;butnowhejudgedthemomentcomeforputting
actualspacebetweenhispursuersandhimself.Hownear,orhowfar
behindhim,theymightbehecouldnotguess.Ifhehadcoveredground,
theywouldhavecoveredittoo,sincetheyweremenborntothe
mountains,whilehehadbeenbredintowns.Hishopelayinthe
possibilitythatinthiswildernesshemightbelosttotheirken,asamote
islostintheair—thoughhebuiltsomethingonthechancethat,in
sympathywiththefeelinginhisfavorpervadingthesimplerpopulationof
theregion,theyhadgivennegativeconnivancetohisescape.These
thoughts,farfromstimulatingafalseconfidence,urgedhimtogreater
speed.
Andyet,evenashefled,hehadaconsciousnessofabandoning
something—perhapsofdesertingsomething—whichbroughtastrainof
regretintothisminuteofdesperateexcitement.Withouthavinghadtime
tocountthecostorreckontheresult,hefelthewasgivingupthefight.
He,orhiscounselforhim,hadcontestedthegroundwithallthe
resourcefulingenuityknowntotheAmericanlegalpractitioner.Hewas
toldthat,inspiteoftheseemingfinalityofwhathadhappenedthat
morning,therewerestillloopholesthroughwhichthedefencemightbe
carriedon.InthespaceofafewhoursFatehadofferedhimthechoice
betweentwocourses,neitherofthemfertileinpromisesofsuccess.The
onewaslongandtedious,withapossibilityofultimatejustification;the
othershortandspeedy,withtheacceptedimputationofguilt.Hehad
chosenthelatter—instinctivelyandonthespurofthemoment;andwhile
hemighthaverepeatedatleisurethedecisionhehadmadeinhaste,he
knewevennowthathewasleavingthewaysandmeansofprovinghis
innocencebehindhim.Theperceptioncame,notastheresultofa
processofthought,butasaregretful,scarcelydetectedsensation.
Hehaddashedatfirstintothebrokencountry,hillyratherthan
mountainous,whichfromtheshoresofLakeChamplaingradually
gathersstrength,asitrollsinland,totossupthecrestsofthe
Adirondacks.Here,buryinghimselfinthewoods,heskirtedtheunkempt
farms,whosecottagelights,justbeginningtoburn,servedhimassignals
tokeepfartheroff.Whenforcedtocrossoneofthesterilefields,he
crawledlow,blottinghimselfoutamongthebowlders.Attimesapatchof
tall,tasselledIndiancorn,interlacedwithwanderingpumpkinvines,gave
himcover,tillheregainedtheshelterofthevastAppalachianmotherforestwhich,afterclimbingCumberlands,Alleghanies,Catskills,and
Adirondacks,hereclambersdown,inlongreachesofashandmaple,
juniperandpine,towardthelowlandsofthenorth.
Asfarashehadyetbeenabletoformulateaplanofflight,itwastoseek
hissafetyamongthehills.Thenecessityoftheinstantwasdrivinghim
towardtheopencountryandthelake,buthehopedtodoublesoonupon
histracks,findinghiswaybacktothelumbercamps,whosefriendly
spiritingfrombunk-housetobunk-housewouldbafflepursuit.Oncehe
hadgainedevenafewhours'security,hewouldbeabletosomeextent
topickandchoosehisway.
HesteeredhimselfbythepeakofGraytop,blackagainstthelastcoraltintedglowofthesunset,asasailorsteersbyastar.Therewasfurther
assurancethathewasnotlosinghimselforwanderinginacircle,when
fromsomechanceoutlookheventuredtoglancebackwardandsawthe
pinnacleofWindyMountainorthedomeofthePilotstraightbehindhim.
Therelaythenaturalretreatsofthelynx,thebear,andtheoutlawlike
himself;and,ashefledfartherfromthem,itwaswiththesamefrenzied
instincttoreturnthatthedrivenstagmustfeeltowardthebedoffernfrom
whichhehasbeenroused.But,fortheminute,therewasoneimperative
necessity—togoon—togoonanywhere,anyhow,solongasittookhim
farenoughfromthespotwheremaskedmenhadloosedthehandcuffs
fromhiswristsandstrayshotshadcomeringingafterhim.Inhispath
therewerelakelets,whichheswam,andstreams,whichheforded.Over
thelowhillshescrambledthroughanundergrowthsodensethateven
thesnakeorthesquirrelmighthaveavoidedit,tofindsomeeasierway.
Nowandthen,ashedraggedhimselfupthemorebarrenascents,the
loosesoilgavewaybeneathhisstepsinminiatureavalanchesofstone
andsand,overwhichhecrept,clingingtotuftsofgrassorlightlyrooted
saplings,toriseatlastwithhandsscratchedandfeetbleeding.Then,on
again!--frantically,astheharerunsandasthecrowflies,without
swerving—on,withthesoleaimofgainingtimeandcoveringdistance!
Hewasnotanativeofthemountains.Thoughinthetwoyearsspent
amongthemhehadcometoacknowledgetheircharm,itwasonlyasa
manlearnstoloveanalienmistress,whosealternatingmoodsof
savageryandsoftnessholdhimwithaspellofwhichheishalfafraid.
Morethananyonesuspectedorhecouldhaveexplained,hisreckless
lifehadbeentherebellionofhisman-trained,urbaninstinctagainstthe
dominationofthissupremeearth-force,towhichhewasofnomorevalue
thanafallingleaforadissolvingcloud.Evennow,asheflunghimselfon
theforest'sprotection,itwasnotwiththesolaceofthesonreturningto
themother;itwasratherasamanmighttakerefugefromalionina
mammothcavern,wherethedarknessonlyconcealsdangers.
Afterthestrugglewithcrudenaturethesmooth,grass-carpetedwagontrackbroughthimmorethanaphysicalsenseofcomfort.Itnotonly
madehisflightswiftandeasy,butithadbeenmarkedoutbyman,for
man'spurposesandtomeetman'sneed.Itwastheresultofahuman
intelligence;itledtoahumangoal.Itwaspossiblethatitmightleadeven
himintotouchwithhumansympathiesWiththethought,hebecame
consciousallatoncethathewasfamishedandfatigued.Uptothe
presenthehadbeenaslittleawareofabodyasaspiritonitsway
betweentwoworlds.Ithadachedandsweatedandbled;buthehadnot
noticedit.Theelectricfluidcouldnothaveseemedmoretirelessoriron
moreinsensate.Butnow,whenthehardshipwassomewhatrelaxed,he
wasforcedbackontheperceptionthathewasfaintandhungryHis
speedslackened;hisshoulderssagged;thelongsecondwind,whichhad
lastedsowell,begantoshorten.Forthefirsttimeitoccurredtohimto
wonderhowlonghisstrengthwouldholdout.
Itwasthenthathenoticedadeflectionofthewood-roadtowardthe
north,anddownoverthebrowoftheplateauonwhichforamileortwo
itsevennesshadbeensustained.Itwasanewsignthatitwastending
towardsomehabitation.Halfanhouragohewouldhavetakenthisto
meanthathemustdashintotheforestagain;buthalfanhouragohe
hadnotbeenhungry.Hedidnotsaytohimselfthathewouldventureto
anyman'sdoorandaskforbread.Sofarasheknew,hewouldnever
venturetoanyman'sdooragain;nevertheless,hekepton,down-hill,and
down-hillnearerandnearerthelake,andfartherandfartherfromthe
mountainandthelairsofsafety.
Suddenly,ataturning,whenhewasnotexpectingit,thewood-road
emergedintoaroughclearing.Oncemorehestoppedtoreflectandtake
hisbearings.Ithadgrownsodarkthattherewaslittledangerindoingso;
though,ashepeeredintothegloom,hisnerveswerestilltautwiththe
expectationofshotorcapturefrombehind.Straininghiseyes,hemade
outafewacresthathadbeenclearedfortheirtimber,afterwhichNature
hadbeenallowedtotakeherownwayagain,inunrulygrowthsof
saplings,tanglesofwildvines,andclumpsofmagentafireweed.
Withoutquiteknowingwhyhedidso,hecreptdowntheslope,feelinghis
wayamongthestumps,andstoopinglow,lesthiswhiteshirt,wetand
clinginglimplytohisbody,mightbetrayhimtosomekeen-eyed
marksman.Presentlyoneoftheoldroot-hedges,commontothe
countryside,barredhispath—aqueer,twistedlineoflong,graytentacles
thathadoncesuckedsustenancefromthesoil,butnowreachedupidly
intoabarrenelement,wherethewildgrapewascoveringtheirgrotesque
nakednesswithmassesofkindlybeauty.Belowhimhesawlightsshining
clearlyliketheplanets,orfaintlylikethemerestar-dustofthesky,while
betweenthetwodegreesofbrightnessheknewtheremustliethebosom
ofthelake.Hehadcometothelittlefringeoftownsthatclingstothe
bordersofChamplain,herewiththeAdirondacksbehindhim,andthere
withthemountainsofVermont,butkeepingclosetothegreat,safe
waterway,asthoughdistrustingtheruggednessofboth.
Itwasamomentatwhichtorenewhisalarminthisproximitytohuman
dwellings.Likethetigerthathasventuredbeyondtheedgeofthejungle,
hemustslinkbackatthesightoffire.Heturnedhimselfslowly,looking
uptheheightsfromwhichhehadcomedown,astheyrolledbehindhim,
mysteriousandhostile,inthegrowingdarkness.Eventhesky,from
whichitseemedimpossibleforthedaylightevertodepart,nowhadan
angryredglareinit.
Hetookasteportwotowardtheforest,andpausedagain,stillstaring
upward.Wherewashegoing?Wherecouldhego?Thequestion
presenteditselfwithanoddpertinencethatdrewhisset,beardlesslips
intoakindofsmile.Whenhehadfirstmadehisrushoutwardtheone
thingthatseemedtohimessentialwastobefree;butnowhewasforced
toaskhimself:Forwhatpurpose?Ofwhatusewasittobeasfreeas
windifhewastobeashomeless?Itwasnotmerelythathewas
homelessforthemoment;thatwasnothing;theoverwhelmingreflection
wasthathe,NorrieFord,couldneverhaveahomeatall—thattherewas
scarcelyaspotwithinthebordersofcivilizedmankindwherethelaw
wouldnothunthimout.
Thisviewofhissituationwassoapparentandyetsonewthatitheldhim
stock-still,gazingintospace.Hewasfree—butfreeonlytocrawlback
intothejungleandliedowninit,likeawildbeast.
"ButI'mnotawildbeast,"heprotested,inwardly."I'maman—with
humanrights.ByGod,I'llneverletthemgo!"
Hewheeledroundagain,towardthelowerlandsandthelake.Thelights
glowedmorebrightlyasthedarknessdeepened,eachlampshiningfrom
somelittlenest,wheremenandwomenwerebusiedwiththesmalltasks
andintereststhatmadelife.Thiswasliberty!Thiswaswhathehada
claimupon!Allhisinstinctswerecivilized,domestic.Hewouldnotgo
backtotheforest,toherdwithwildnature,whenhehadarighttolie
downamonghiskind.Hehadsleptintheopenhundredsoftimes;butit
hadbeenfromchoice.Therehadbeenpleasurethen,inwakingtothe
smellofbalsamandopeninghiseyesuponthestars.Buttodothesame
thingfromcompulsion,becausemenhadcloseduptheirranksand
ejectedhimfromtheirmidst,wasanoutragehewouldnotaccept.Inthe
darknesshisheadwentup,whilehiseyesburnedwithafiremore
intensethanthatofanyofthemildbeaconsfromthetownsbelow,ashe
strodebacktotheoldroot-hedgeandleapedit.
Hefelttheimprudence,nottosaytheuselessness,ofthemovement,as
hemadeit;andyethekepton,findinghimselfinafieldinwhichcows
andhorseswerestartledfromtheirmunchingbyhisfootstep.Itwas
anotherdegreenearertotheorganizedlifeinwhichhewasentitledtoa
place.Shieldedbyashrubberyofsleepinggoldenrod,hestoledownthe
slope,makinghiswaytothelanealongwhichthebeastswentoutto
pastureandcamehome.Followingthetrail,hepassedameadow,a
potato-field,andapatchofIndiancorn,tillthescentofflowerstoldhim
hewascomingonagarden.Aminutelater,low,velvetydomesofclipped
yewroseintheforeground,andheknewhimselftobeintouchwiththe
civilizationthatclung,likeahardyvine,tothecovesandpromontoriesof
thelake,whileitstendrilswitheredassoonastheywereflunguptoward
themountains.Onlyafewstepsmore,and,betweentheyews,hesaw
thelightstreamingfromtheopendoorsandwindowsofahouse.
Itwassuchahouseas,duringthetwoyearshehadspentupinthehigh
timber-lands,hehadcaughtsightofonlyontherareoccasionswhenhe
camewithintheprecinctsofatown—ahousewhoseoutwardaspect,
evenatnight,suggestedsomethingoftaste,means,andsocialposition
foritsoccupants.Slippingnearerstill,hesawcurtainsflutteringinthe
breezeoftheAugustevening,andVirginiacreeperdroppinginheavily
massedgarlandsfromtheroofofacolumnedveranda.AFrenchwindow
wasopentothefloor,andwithin,hecouldseevaguely,peoplewere
seated.
Thescenewassimpleenough,buttothefugitiveithadakindof
sacredness.Itwaslikeaglimpseintotheheavenhehaslostcaughtbya
fallenangel.Forthemomentheforgothishungerandweakness,inthis
feastfortheheartandeyes.Itwaswithsomethingofthepleasureof
recognizinglong-absentfacesthathetracedthelineofasofaagainstthe
wall,andstatedtohimselfthattherewasarowofprintshangingaboveit.
Therehadbeennosuchdetailsasthesetonoteinhiscell,noryetinthe
courtroomwhichformonthshadconstitutedhisonlychangeofoutlook
Insensiblytohimself,hecreptnearer,drawnbythesheerspellofgazing.
Findingagateleadingintothegarden,heopeneditsoftly,leavingitso,
inordertosecurehisretreat.Fromtheshelterofoneoftheroundedyewtreeshecouldmakehisobservationsmoreatease.Heperceivednow
thatthehousestoodonaterrace,andturnedthegardenfront,itsmore
secludedaspect,inhisdirection.Thehighhedges,commoninthese
lakesidevillages,screeneditfromtheroad;whiletheopenFrench
windowthrewashaftofbrightnessdowntheyew-treewalk,castingthe
restofthegardenintogloom.
ToNorrieFord,peepingfurtivelyfrombehindoneofthedomesofclipped
foliage,therewasexasperationinthefactthathisnewpositiongavehim
noglimpseofthepeopleintheroom.Hishungertoseethembecamefor
theminutemoreinsistentthanthatforfood.Theyrepresentedthat
humansocietyfromwhichhehadwakedonemorningtofindhimselfcut
off,asarockiscutoffbyseismicconvulsionfromthemainlandofwhich
ithasformedapart.Itwasinasortofefforttospanthegulfseparating
himfromhisownpastthathepeerednowintothisroom,whoseinmates
wereonlypassingthehoursbetweentheeveningmealandbedtime.
Thatpeoplecouldsittranquillyreadingbooksorplayinggamesfilledhim
withakindofwonder.
Whenheconsidereditsafeheslippedalongtowhathehopedwould
proveabetterpointofview,but,findingitnomoreadvantageous,he
dartedtostillanother.Thelightluredhimasitmightlureaninsectofthe
night,tillpresentlyhestoodontheverystepsoftheterrace.Heknewthe
dangerofhissituation,buthecouldnotbringhimselftoturnandsteal
awaytillhehadfixedthepictureofthatcheerfulinteriorfirmlyonhis
memory.Theriskwasgreat,buttheglimpseoflifewasworthit.
Withpowersofobservationquickenedbyhisplight,henotedthatthe
homewasjustsuchaoneasthatfromwhichhehadsprung—onewhere
oldengravingshungonthewalls,whilebooksfilledtheshelves,and
papersandperiodicalsstrewedthetables.Thefurnishingsspokeof
comfortandamodestdignity.Obliquelyinhislineofvisionhecouldsee
twochildren,seatedatatableandporingoverapicture-bookTheboy,a
manlyurchin,mighthavebeenfourteen,thegirlayearortwoyounger.
Hercurlsfelloverthehandandarmsupportinghercheek,sothatFord
couldonlyguessattheblueeyesconcealedbehindthem.Nowandthen
theboyturnedapagebeforeshewasready,whereuponfollowedpretty
criesofprotestation.Itwasperhapsthismimicquarrelthatcalledfortha
remarkfromsomeonesittingwithintheshadow.
"Eviedear,it'stimetogotobed.Billy,Idon'tbelievetheyletyoustayup
aslateasthisathome."
"Ohyes,theydo,"cameBilly'sanswer,givenwithsturdyassurance."I
oftenstayuptillnine."
"Well,it'shalfpastnow;soyou'dbothbettercomeandsaygood-night."
Withonefootrestingontheturfandtheotherraisedtothefirststepof
theterrace,ashestoodwithfoldedarms,Fordwatchedthelittlescene,
inwhichthechildrenclosedtheirbook,pushedbacktheirchairs,and
crossedtheroomtosaygood-nighttothetwowhowereseatedinthe
shadow.Theboycamefirst,withhandsthrustintohistrouserspocketsin
akindofgravenonchalance.Thelittlegirlflutteredalongbehind,but
brokeherjourneyacrosstheroombysteppingintotheopeningofthe
longwindowandlookingoutintothenight.Fordstoodbreathlessand
motionless,expectinghertoseehimandcryout.Butsheturnedaway
anddancedagainintotheshadow,afterwhichhesawhernomore.The
silencethatfellwithintheroomtoldhimthattheelderswereleftalone.
Stealthily,likeathief,Fordcreptupthestepsandovertheturfofthe
terrace.Therisingofthewindatthatminutedrownedallsoundofhis
movements,sothathewastemptedrightontotheveranda,wherea
coarsemattingdeadenedhistread.Hedarednotholdhimselfuprighton
thisdangerousground,but,crouchinglow,hewasblottedfromsight,
whilehehimselfcouldseewhatpassedwithin.Hewouldonly,hesaid,
lookoncemoreintokindlyhumanfacesandstealawayashecame.
Hecouldperceivenowthattheladywhohadspokenwasaninvalid
reclininginalongchair,lightlycoveredwitharug.Afragile,daintylittle
creature,herlaces,trinkets,andringsrevealedherasoneclingingtothe
eleganciesofanotherphaseoflife,thoughFatehadsenthertolive,and
perhapstodie,hereontheedgeofthewilderness.Hemadethesame
observationwithregardtothemanwhosatwithhisbacktothewindow.
Hewasininformaleveningdress—acircumstancethat,inthislandof
moreorlessprimitivesimplicity,spokeofasenseofexile.Hewasslight
andmiddle-aged,andthoughhisfacewashidden,Fordreceivedthe
impressionofhavingseenhimalready,butfromanotherpointofview.
Hishabitofusingamagnifying-glassas,withsomedifficulty,hereada
newspaperinthelightofagreen-shadedlamp,seemedtoFord
especiallyfamiliar,thoughmorepressingthoughtskepthimfromtryingto
rememberwhereandwhenhehadseensomeonedothesamething
withintherecentpast.
Ashecrouchedbythewindowwatchingthem,itcameintohismindthat
theywerejustthesortofpeopleofwhomhehadleastneedtobeafraid.
Thesordidtragedyupinthemountainshadprobablyinterestedthem
little,andinanycasetheycouldnotasyethaveheardofhisescape.If
hebrokeinonthemanddemandedfood,theywouldgiveittohimasto
somecommondesperado,andbegladtolethimgo.Iftherewasany
onetoinspireterror,itwashe,withhisheight,andyouth,andwildnessof
aspect.Hewasthinkingoutthemostnaturalmethodofplayingsome
smallcomedyofviolence,whensuddenlythemanthrewdownthepaper
withasigh.Ontheinstanttheladyspoke,asthoughshehadbeen
awaitinghercue.
"Idon'tseewhyyoushouldfeelsoaboutit,"shesaid,makinganeffortto
controlacough."Youmusthaveforeseensomethingofthissortwhen
youtookupthelaw."
TheanswerreachedFord'searsonlyasamurmur,butheguessedits
importfromtheresponse.
"True,"shereturned,whenhehadspoken,"toforeseepossibilitiesisone
thing,andtomeetthemisanother;buttheanticipationdoessomething
tonerveoneforthenecessitywhenitcomes."
AgaintherewasamurmurinwhichFordcoulddistinguishnothing,but
againherreplytoldhimwhatitmeant.
"Therightandthewrong,asIunderstandit,"shewenton,"issomething
withwhichyouhavenothingtodo.Yourpartistoadministerthelaw,not
tojudgeofhowitworks."
OncemoreFordwasunabletocatchwhatwassaidinreply,butonce
morethelady'sspeechenlightenedhim.
"That'stheworstofit?Possibly;butit'salsothebestofit;forsinceit
relievesyouofresponsibilityit'sfoolishforyoutofeelremorse."
Whatwasthemotiveoftheseremarks?Fordfoundhimselfpossessedof
astrangecuriositytoknow.Hepressedascloselyashedaredtothe
opendoor,butforthemomentnothingmorewassaid.Inthesilencethat
followedhebeganagaintowonderhowhecouldbestmakehisdemand
forfood,whenasoundfrombehindstartledhim.Itwasthesoundwhich,
amongallothers,causedhimthewildestalarm—thatofahuman
footstep.Hisnextmovementcamefromthesameblindimpulsethat
sendsahuntedfoxtotakerefugeinachurch—eageronlyforthe
instant'ssafety.Hehadsprungtohisfeet,clearedthethreshold,and
leapedintotheroom,beforethereflectioncametohimthat,ifhewas
caught,hemustatleastbecaughtgame.Wheelingroundtowardthe
window-doorthroughwhichhehadentered,hestooddefiantly,awaiting
hispursuers,andheedlessoftheastonishedeyesfixeduponhim.Itwas
nottillsomesecondshadgoneby,andherealizedthathewasnot
followed,thatheglancedabouttheroom.Whenhedidsoitwasto
ignorethewoman,inordertoconcentrateallhisgazeonthelittle,irongraymanwho,stillseated,staredathim,withlipsparted.Inhisownturn,
NorrieFordwasdumbandwide-eyedinamazementItwasalongminute
beforeeitherspoke.
"You?"
"You?"
Themonosyllablecamesimultaneouslyfromeach.Thelittlewomangot
toherfeetinalarm.Therewasinquiryaswellasterrorinherface—
inquirytowhichherhusbandfeltpromptedtorespond.
"Thisistheman,"hesaid,inavoiceofforcedcalmness,"whom—whom
—we'vebeentalkingabout."
"Nottheman—you—?"
"Yes,"henodded,"themanI—I—sentencedtodeath—thismorning."
II
"Evie!"
Mrs.Waynewenttothedoor,butonFord'sassurancethatherchildhad
nothingtofearfromhim,shepausedwithherhandontheknobtolookin
curiosityatthiswildyoungman,whosedoomlenthimakindof
fascination.Again,foraminute,allthreeweresilentintheexcessoftheir
surprise.Waynehimselfsatrigid,gazingupatthenew-comerwith
strainedeyesblurredwithpartialblindness.Thoughslightlybuiltand
delicate,hewasnotphysicallytimid;andasthesecondswentbyhewas
abletoformanideaastowhathadhappened.Hehimself,inviewofthe
tumultuoussympathydisplayedbyhuntersandlumber-jackswiththe
manwhopassedfortheirbooncompanion,hadadvisedFord'sremoval
fromtheprettytoyprisonofthecounty-towntothestrongeroneat
Plattsville.Itwasclearthattheprisonerhadbeenhelpedtoescape,
eitherbeforethechangehadbeeneffectedorwhileitwastakingplace.
Therewasnothingsurprisinginthat;theastonishingthingwasthatthe
fugitiveshouldhavefoundhiswaytothishouseaboveallothers.Mrs.
Wayneseemedtothinksotoo,foritwasshewhospokefirst,inatone
whichshetriedtomakeperemptory,inspiteofitstremoroffear.
"Whatdidyoucomeherefor?"
Fordlookedatherforthefirsttime—inablanknessnotwithoutadull
elementofpleasure.Itwasatleasttwoorthreeyearssincehehadseen
anythingsodainty—not,infact,sincehisownmotherdied.Atalltimes
hismindworkedslowly,sothathefoundnothingtoreplytillsherepeated
herquestionwithashowofincreasedseverity.
"Icamehereforprotection,"hesaidthen.
Hishesitationandbewilderedairimpartedassurancetohisstill
astonishedhosts.
"Isn'titanoddplaceinwhichtolookforthat?"Wayneasked,inan
excitement,hestrovetosubdue.
ThequestionwasthestimulusFordneededinordertogethiswitsinto
play.
"No,"hereplied,slowly;"I'vearighttoprotectionfromthemanwho
sentencedmetodeathforacrimeofwhichheknowsmeinnocent."
Wayneconcealedastartbysmoothingthenewspaperoverhiscrossed
knees,buthewasunabletokeepashadeofthicknessoutofhisvoice
asheanswered:
"Youhadafairtrial.Youwerefoundguilty.Youhavehadthebenefitofall
theresourcesallowedbythelaw.YouhavenorighttosayIknowyouto
beinnocent."
Whollyspent,Forddroppedintoachairfromwhichoneofthechildren
hadrisen.Withhisarmhanginglimplyoverthebackhesatstaring
haggardlyatthejudge,asthoughfindingnothingtosay.
"Ihavearighttoreadanyman'smind,"hemuttered,afteralongpause,
"whenit'sastransparentasyours.Noonehadanydoubtastoyour
convictions—afteryourcharge."
"Thathasnothingtodowithit.IfIchargedinyourfavor,itwasbecauseI
wantedyoutohavethebenefitofeverypossibleplea.Whenthosepleas
werefoundinsufficientbyajuryofyourpeers—"
Fordemittedasoundthatmighthavebeenalaugh,hadtherebeenmirth
init.
"Ajuryofmypeers!Alotofthick-headedcountrytradesmen,prejudiced
againstmefromthestartbecauseI'dsometimeskickeduparowintheir
town!Theyweren'tmypeersanymorethantheywereyours!"
"Thelawassumesallmentobeequal—"
"Justasitassumesallmentobeintelligent—onlythey'renot.Thelawis
averyfinetheory.Thechiefthingtobe,saidagainstitisthatfivetimes
outoftenitleaveshumannatureoutofaccount.I'mcondemnedto
death,notbecauseIkilledaman,butbecauseyoulawyerswon'tadmit
thatyourtheorydoesn'twork."
Hebegantospeakmoreeasily,withtheenergybornofhisdesperate
situationandhissenseofwrong.Hesatupstraighter;theairofdejection
withwhichhehadsunktothechairslippedfromhim;hisgrayeyes,of
thekindcalled"honest,"shotoutglancesofprotest.Theeldermanfound
himselfoncemorestrugglingagainstthewaveofsympathywhichat
timesinthecourt-roomhadbeenalmosttoostrongforhim.Hewas
forcedtointrenchhimselfmentallywithinthesystemheservedbefore
bracinghimselftoreply.
"Ican'tkeepyoufromhavingyouropinion—"
"NorcanIsaveyoufromhavingyours.Lookatme,judge!"Hewasbolt
uprightnow,throwinghisarmswidewithagestureinwhichtherewas
moreappealthanindignation"Lookatme!I'mastrong,healthy-bodied,
healthy-mindedfellowoftwenty-four;butI'mdrenchedtotheskin,I'm
halfnaked,I'mnearlydeadwithhunger,I'manoutlawforlife—andyou're
responsibleforitall."
ItwasWayne'sturnforprotest,andthoughhewinced,hespokesharply.
"Ihadmydutytoperform—"
"GoodGod,man,don'tsitthereandcallthatthingyourduty!You're
somethingmorethanawheelinamachine.Youwereahumanbeing
beforeyouwereajudge.Withyourconvictionsyoushouldhavecome
downfromthebenchandwashedyourhandsofthewholeaffair.The
veryactionwouldhavegivenmeachance—"
"Youmustn'tspeaklikethattomyhusband,"Mrs.Waynebrokein,
indignantly,fromthedoorway."Ifyouonlyknewwhathehassufferedon
youraccount—"
"IsitanythinglikewhatI'vesufferedonhis?"
"Idaresayit'sworse.Hehasscarcelysleptoreatensinceheknewhe
wouldhavetopassthatdreadfulsen—"
"Come!come!"Wayneexclaimed,intheimpatienttoneofamanwho
putsanendtoauselessdiscussion."Wecan'tspendtimeonthissubject
anylonger.I'mnotonmydefence—"
"Youareonyourdefence,"Forddeclared,instantly."Evenyourwifeputs
youthere.We'renotinacourtroomaswewerethismorning.
Circumstantialevidencemeansnothingtousinthisisolatedhouse,
whereyou'renolongerthejudge,asI'mnolongertheprisoner.We're
justtwonakedhumanbeings,strippedofeverythingbuttheirinborn
rights—andIclaimmine."
"Well—whatarethey?"
"They'resimpleenough.Iclaimtherighttohavesomethingtoeat,andto
gomywaywithoutbeingmolested—orbetrayed.You'lladmitI'mnot
askingmuch."
"Youmayhavethefood,"Mrs.Waynesaid,inatonenotwithout
compassion."I'llgoandgetit."
Foraminuteortwotherewasnosoundbutthatofhercough,asshe
speddownapassage.Beforespeaking,Waynepassedhishandacross
hisbrowasthoughinanefforttoclearhismentalvision.
"No;youdon'tseemtobeaskingmuch.But,asamatteroffact,you're
demandingmypledgetomycountry.Iundertooktoadministeritslaws—"
Fordsprangup.
"You'vedoneit,"hecried,"andI'mtheresult!You'veadministeredthelaw
rightuptoitshilt,andyourdutyasajudgeisperformed.Surelyyou're
freenowtothinkofyourselfasamanandtotreatmeasone."
"Imightdothat,andstillthinkyouamandangeroustoleaveatlarge."
"Butdoyou?"
"That'smyaffair.Whateveryouropinionofthecourtsthathavejudged
yourcase,Imustaccepttheirverdict."
"Inyourofficialcapacity—yes;butnothere,ashosttothepoordogwho
comesunderyourroofforshelter.Myrightsaresacred.Eventhewild
Arab—"
Hepausedabruptly.OverWayne'sshoulder,throughthewindowstill
opentotheterrace,hesawafigurecrossthedarkness.Couldhis
pursuersbewaitingoutsidefortheirchancetospringonhim?A
perceptiblefractionofasecondwentbybeforehetoldhimselfhemust
havebeenmistaken.
"EventhewildArabwouldthinkthemso,"heconcluded,hisglance
shiftingrapidlybetweenthejudgeandthewindowopenbehindhim.
"ButI'mnotawildArab,"Waynereplied."Myfirstdutyistowardmy
countryanditsorganizedsociety."
"Idon'tthinkso.Yourfirstdutyistowardthemanyouknowyou've
sentencedwrongly.Fatehasshownyouanunusualmercyingivingyou
achancetohelphim."
"IcanbesorryforthesentenceandyetfeelthatIcouldnothaveacted
otherwise."
"Thenwhatareyougoingtodonow?"
"Whatwouldyouexpectmetodobuthandyoubacktojustice?"
"How?"
Therewasasuggestionofphysicaldisdaininthetoneofthelaconic
question,aswellasinthelookhefixedontheneat,middle-agedman
doinghisbesttobecoolandcollectedWayneglancedoverhisshoulder
towardthetelephoneonthewall.NorrieFordunderstoodandspoke
quickly:
"Yes;youcouldringupthepoliceatGreenport,butIcouldstrangleyou
beforeyoucrossedthefloor."
"Soyoucould;butwouldyou?Ifyoudid,shouldyoubeanybetteroff?
Shouldyoubeaswelloffasyouarenow?Asitis,thereisapossibilityof
amiscarriageofjustice,ofwhichonedayyoumaygetthebenefit.There
wouldbenosuchpossibilitythen.Youwouldbetrackeddownwithin
forty-eighthours."
"Oh,youneedn'targue;I'venointention—"Oncemorehepaused.The
sameshadowhadflittedacrossthedarkspaceoutside,thistimewitha
distinctflutterofawhitedress.Hecouldonlythinkitwassomeone
gettinghelptogether;andwhilehewentontofinishhissentencein
words,allhissubconsciousfacultieswereatwork,seekinganescape
fromthetrapinwhichhewastaken.
"I'venointentionofdoingviolenceunlessI'mdriventoit—"
"Butifyouaredriventoit—?"
"I'vearighttodefendmyself.Organizedsociety,asyoucallit,hasput
mewhereithasnofurtherclaimuponme.Imustfightagainstitsinglehanded—andI'lldoit.Ishallspareneithermannorwoman—nor
woman"—heraisedhisvoicesoastobeheardoutside—"whostandsin
myway."
Hethrewbackhisheadandlookeddefiantlyoutintothenight.Asifin
responsetothischallengeatall,whitefiguresuddenlyemergedfromthe
darknessandstoodplainlybeforehim.
Itwasagirl,whosemovementswerecuriouslyquickandsilent,asshe
beckonedtohim,overtheheadofthejudge,whosatwithhisback
towardher.
"Thenallthemorereasonwhysocietyshouldprotectitselfagainstyou,"
Waynebeganagain;butFordwasnolongerlistening.Hisattentionwas
whollyfixedonthegirl,whocontinuedtobeckonnoiselessly,flutteringfor
aninstantclosetothethresholdoftheroom,thenwithdrawingsuddenly
totheveryedgeoftheterrace,wavingawhitescarfintokenthathe
shouldfollowher.Shehadrepeatedheractionagainandagain,
beckoningwithrenewedinsistence,beforeheunderstoodandmadeup
hismind.
"Idon'tsaythatIrefusetohelpyou,"Waynewassaying."Mysympathy
withyouisverysincere.IfIcangetyoursentencecommuted—Infact,a