Norston's Rest Part 18

"And now?"

Hurst folded the fair girl in his arms, and smoothed her bright hair with a caressing hand.

"Now!" she answered, lifting her mouth, which had grown red again, and timidly returning his kisses. "Now I am safe, and I fear nothing. Oh, mercy! Look!"

"What? Where?"

"The window! That face at the window!"

"It is your fancy, darling. I see nothing there."

"But I saw it. Surely I did. His keen, wicked face. It was close to the gla.s.s."

"There, there! It was only the ivy leaves glancing in the moonlight."

"No, no! I saw it. He is waiting for you."

"Let him wait. I shall not stir a step the sooner or later for that."

Ruth began to tremble again. Her eyes were constantly turning toward the window. She scarcely heard the words of endearment with which Hurst strove to rea.s.sure her. All at once the old clock filled the house with its brazen warning. It was ten o'clock. The girl sprang to her feet.

"It is time for my father to come. He must not find you here."

Hurst took his hat, and glancing down at his dinner dress, remembered that he would be missed from the drawing-room. Once more he enfolded the girl in his arms, called her by the new endearing name that was so sweet to them both, and finally left her smiling through all her fears.

Ruth stole to the little oriel window, and watched her husband as he turned from the moonlight and entered the shadows of the park. Then she went back to the kitchen and busied herself about the fire.

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN ENCOUNTER.

When Richard Storms left the gardener's cottage, he dashed like a wild beast into the densest thickets of the forest, and tore his way through toward his own home. It gave him a sort of tigerish pleasure to tear at the thickets with his fierce hands, and trample the forest turf beneath his iron-shod heels, for the rage within him was brutal in its thirst for destruction. All at once he stopped short, seemed to remember something and turned back, plunging along at a heavy but swift pace, now through the shadows, now in the moonlight, unconscious of the quiet beauty of either.

It took him but a brief time to reach the cottage, around which he pondered a while, stealing in and out of the tangled vines which hung in thick draperies around the building. At last Ruth saw his face at the kitchen window, and gave a sharp cry that drove him away, more fiercely wrathful than ever, for he had seen the creature he wors.h.i.+pped after a rude fas.h.i.+on giving caresses to another, that he would have gone on his grovelling knees to have secured to himself.

"Jessup promised my father that I should wed her, and it has come to this," he grumbled fiercely, as if tearing the words between his teeth. "On the night I had set aside to win an answer for myself, the young master hustles me out of the door like a dog, and takes the kennel himself. He thinks I am not man enough to bark back when he kicks me, does he? He shall see! He shall see! Bark! Nay, my fine fellow, it shall be biting this time. A growl and a snap isn't enough for kicks and blows."

The wrath of this man was less fiery now, but it had taken a stern, solid strength, more dangerous than the first outburst of pa.s.sion. He sought no particular path as he left the house, but stamped forward with heavy feet, as if he were trampling down something that he hated viciously, now and then gesticulating in the moonlight, till his very shadow seemed to be fighting its way along the turf.

All at once he came upon another man, who had left the great chestnut avenue, and turned into a side path, which led to the gardener's pa.s.sage. The two men stopped, and one spoke cheerfully.

"Why, good-night, d.i.c.k. This is late to be out. Anything going wrong?"

"Wrong!" said the other, hoa.r.s.ely. "Yes, wrong enough to cost a man his life some day. Go up yonder, and ask your daughter Ruth what it is. She'll tell, no doubt--ask her!"

Richard Storms, after flinging these words at his father's friend, attempted to push by him on the path; but Jessup stood resolutely in his way.

"What is all this, my lad? Nay, now, you haven't been to the cottage while I was away, and frightened the girl about what we were talking of. I should take that unfriendly, d.i.c.k. Our Ruth is a bit dainty, and should have had time to think over such matters."

"Dainty! I should think so. She looks high in her sweethearting; I must say that for her."

"What is it you are saying of my daughter?" cried Jessup, doubling his great brown fist, unconsciously.

"I say that a man like me has a chance of getting more kicks than kisses when he seeks her," answered d.i.c.k, with a sneer.

"And serves him right, if he dared to ask such things of her mother's child," said Jessup, growing angry.

"But what if he only asked, honest fas.h.i.+on, for an honest wife, as I did, and got kicks in return?"

"Kicks! Why, man, who was there to give them, and I away?" questioned the gardener, astonished.

"One who shall pay for it!" was the answer that came hissing through the young man's lips.

"Of course, one don't give kicks and expect farthings back; but who has got up pluck to try this with you, d.i.c.k? He must be mad to dare it."

"He is mad!" answered Storms, grinding his teeth. "Mad or not, no man but the master's son would have dared it."

"The master's son! Are you drunk or crazy, d.i.c.k Storms?"

"I almost think both. Who can tell?" muttered d.i.c.k. "But it's not with drink."

"The master's son! but where--when?"

"At your own house, where he has been more than once, when he thought sure to find Ruth alone."

"d.i.c.k Storms, this is a lie."

d.i.c.k burst into a hoa.r.s.e laugh.

"A lie, is it? Go up yonder, now. Walk quick, and you'll see whether it is the truth or not."

Jessup rushed forward a step or two, then came back, as if ashamed of the action.

"Nay, there is no need. I'll not help you belie my own child."

"Belie her, is it? I say, Bill Jessup, not half an hour ago, I saw Ruth, your daughter, with her head on the young master's bosom, and her mouth red with his kisses. If you don't believe this, go and see for yourself."

The florid face of William Jessup turned to marble in the moonlight, and a fierce, hot flame leaped to his eyes.

"I will not walk a pace quicker, or be made to spy on my girl, by anything you can say, d.i.c.k; not if it were to save my own life; but I like you, lad--your father and I are fast friends. We meant that, by-and-by, you and Ruth should come together."

Storms flung up his head with an insulting sneer.

"Together! Not if every hair on her head was weighed down with sovereigns. I am an honest man, William Jessup, and will take an honest woman home to my mother, or take none."