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"He wasn't _liberal_," he said, rising, "but for G.o.d's sake, Madam, think what he ought to have done for _me_ after my patiently listening to his plans for twenty years! Mind, I'm not complaining, but what have I got out of it? A Bible!"
"Oh, you've feathered _your_ nest, Colonel!" cried Mrs. Batholommey, recovering somewhat.
"I never came here," retorted Colonel Lawton spitefully, "that _you_ weren't begging!"
"See here, Lawton," the clergyman interrupted truculently, "don't forget who you are speaking to!"
Colonel Lawton waved his hand patronisingly at the clergyman.
"That's all right, Parson. I know who I'm speaking to. We're all in the same boat--one's as good as another--when we're all up against a thing like this. If anything, you two are worse than I am, for you stand for better things. What would your congregation think of either of you if they could look into your hearts this moment and see 'em as they _really_ are?"
"Really are--really are!" cried Mrs. Batholommey. "I'm not ashamed to have any one see my heart as it really is!"
(And Mrs. Batholommey was telling the truth, for she was a good woman at heart, and it was not her fault that she had a human desire for this world's goods for those she loved, for the church, and for herself.)
Here Frederik, who had watched the scene with much amus.e.m.e.nt at first, came forward through the increasing gloom. He was getting tired of the childish bickering.
"Well, well, well, I'm disgusted," he said, "when I see such heartlessness! He was putty in all your hands."
"Oh, you can defend his memory. _You_ got the money!" cried Mrs.
Batholommey, with asperity. "He liked flattery and you gave him what he wanted and you gave him plenty of it."
"Why not?" retorted Frederik calmly, getting a cigarette out of his case. "The rest of you were at the same thing--yes?"
He struck a match and lighted his cigarette as he continued in a disagreeable tone:
"And I had the pleasure of watching him hand out the money that belonged to me--to _me_," he repeated. "My money! What business had he to be generous with my money?"
Still talking, Frederik sat down at the desk.
"If he'd lived much longer, I'd have been a pauper. It's a lucky thing for me he di----"
Frederik had the grace to leave the word unfinished.
Mr. Batholommey broke the slight pause.
"Young man," he said solemnly, "it might have been better if Mr. Grimm had given _all_ he had to charity--for he left his money to an ingrate."
The "ingrate" laughed derisively.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" he cried. "You amuse one! You don't know how amusing you are."
No one cared to add further to Frederik's amus.e.m.e.nt, so they all sat still. The room was now perfectly dark, except for an occasional flash of heat-lightning from the vanished storm.
Night had crept upon them unheeded, so intent had they been on their petty wrangling.
Finally Mrs. Batholommey got up and went towards the desk.
"Where is the miniature?" she demanded. "I don't want it--but I'll take it."
Frederik lighted a match, and by its flickering blaze found the discarded miniature lying face downward on the desk. Mrs. Batholommey s.n.a.t.c.hed it from his fingers, and made her way back to the fireplace.
"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed Frederik again.
"Rose, my dear," began Mr. Batholommey, "the min----"
"s.h.!.+" interrupted Frederik.
There was a pause. Then he rose.
"Who came into the room?" he asked in a strange voice.
He lit a match and waved it slowly in the direction of the hall door. It was extinguished instantly as if the wind had blown it out. He lighted another, saying:
"We're sitting in the darkness like owls. Who came in?" he demanded again.
There was no answer as he peered around the room, holding the match toward first one corner and then another.
"I didn't hear any one," said the Colonel.
"Nor I," added Mrs. Batholommey.
"No," said Mr. Batholommey.
"I was _sure_ some one came in," Frederik said in a strange voice.
"You must have imagined it," suggested Mr. Batholommey. "Our nerves are all upset."
"I'll get a light," Frederik said, starting toward the dining-room.
At that moment, Marta entered with the welcome lamps. She carried two of them, one already lighted, which she put upon the table. The other Frederik took quickly from her and carried to the chain-bracket over the desk. This he adjusted with Marta's help, and then lighted.
After which he glanced apprehensively about the room once more. Even under the rea.s.suring flood of light his impression that some one had stolen in upon the dim-lit conference would not wholly vanish.
CHAPTER XIII
THE RETURN
The Dead Man came home.
The old collie, lying stretched in the deep porch, safe from the storm, knew him. As the Dead Man came up the walk between the trim beds of rain-soaked flowers, the old dog crawled rheumatically to its feet, the bleared eyes brightening, the feathered tail awag in joyous greeting to the loved master who had been so long and so unaccountably absent.
Peter Grimm laid a hand caressingly on his old pet's head; then pa.s.sed into his former home.