Cap'n Dan's Daughter Part 55

"Yes."

"But, Gertrude--Gertie--"

"Don't call me that. Don't DARE to speak to me in that tone. Go--now."

"But, Ger--Miss Dott, I--I--don't you see it was all a mistake? I--"

"Stop! I am trying very hard to keep my temper. We have had scenes enough to-night. My mother is ill and she must not be disturbed again.

If you do not go to your room and pack and leave at once, I shall call Mr. Ginn and have you put out, just as you are. I am giving you that opportunity. You had better avail yourself of it. I mean what I say."

She looked as if she did. Cousin Percy evidently thought so. His humbleness disappeared.

"So?" he snarled angrily. "So that's it, eh? What do you think I am?"

Gertrude's eyes flashed. She bit her lip. When she spoke it was with deliberate distinctness. Every word was as sharp and cold as an icicle.

"Do you wish to know what I think you are?" she asked. "What I thought at the very beginning you were, and what I have been taking pains to make sure of ever since I came to this house? Very well, I'll tell you."

She told him, slowly, calmly, and with biting exactness. His face was flushed when she began; when she finished it was white.

"That is what you are," she said. "I do not merely think so. I have studied you carefully; I have stooped to a.s.sociate with you in order to study you; I have studied you through your friends; I KNOW what you are."

His anger and mortification were choking him.

"You--you--" he snarled. "So that is it, is it? You have been using me as a good thing. As a--as a--"

"As you have used my father and mother and their simple-minded goodness and generosity. Yes, I have."

"You have been making a fool of me! And Holway--confound him--"

"Mr. Holway was useful. He helped. And he, too, understands, now."

"By--by gad--I--I won't go. I'll--"

Gertrude walked to the rear of the hall.

"Mr. Ginn!" she called, "will you come, please?"

Laban came. He looked happy and expectant.

"Here I be," he observed eagerly.

"Mr. Ginn," said Gertrude, "this--gentleman--is going to his room for a few minutes. He is preparing to leave us. If he doesn't come down and leave this house in a reasonable time will you kindly a.s.sist him? He will, no doubt, send for his trunks to-morrow. But he must go to-night.

He must. Do you understand, Mr. Ginn?"

Laban grinned. "I cal'late I do," he said. "Zuba's been tellin' me some.

He'll go."

"Thank you. Good-night!"

She ascended the stairs. The first mate looked at his watch.

"Fifteen minutes is enough to pack any trunk," he observed. "I'll give you that much. Now, them, tumble up. Lively!"

At the door of her parents' room Gertrude rapped softly. Captain Dan opened it and showed a pallid, agitated face.

"She's mighty sick, Gertie," he declared. "I wish you'd telephone for the doctor."

CHAPTER XIV

The doctor came, stayed for some time and, after administering a sleeping draught and ordering absolute quiet for his patient, departed, saying that he would come again in the morning. He did so and, before leaving, took Captain Dan and Gertrude into his confidence.

"It is a complete collapse," he said gravely. "Mrs. Dott is worn out, physically and mentally. She must be kept quiet, she must not worry about anything, she must remain in bed, and she must see no one. If she does this, if she rests--really rests--we may fight off nervous prostration. If she does not--anything may happen. With your permission I shall send a nurse."

The permission was given, of course, and the nurse came. She was a quiet, pleasant, capable person, and Daniel and Gertrude liked her.

She took charge of the sick room. Azuba--the common sense, adequate, domestic Azuba of old, not the rampant "free woman" of recent days--was in charge of the kitchen. Her husband remained, at Daniel's earnest request, but he spent his time below stairs.

"Sartin sure I won't be in the way, Cap'n, be you?" he asked earnestly.

"I can go somewheres else just as well as not, to some boardin' house or somewheres. Zuby Jane won't mind; we can see each other every day."

"Not a mite of it, Labe," replied Daniel earnestly. "There's plenty of room and you can stay here along with your wife just as well as not. I'd like to have you. Maybe--" with a suggestive wink, "maybe you can kind of--well, kind of keep things runnin' smooth--in the galley. You know what I mean."

Laban grinned. "Cal'late you won't have no more trouble that way, Cap'n," he observed. "I guess that's over. Zuby and I understand each other better'n we did. I THOUGHT she was mighty--"

"Mighty what?" Mr. Ginn had broken off his sentence in the middle.

"Oh, nothin'. It's all right, Cap'n Dott. Don't you worry about Zuby and me. We'll boss this end of the craft; you 'tend to the rest of it. Say, that Hungerford swab ain't come back, has he?"

"No. No, he hasn't. He's gone for good, it looks like. Sent for his trunk and gone. That's queer, too. No, he hasn't come back."

Laban seemed disappointed. "Well, all right," he said. "If he should come, just send for me. I'd just as soon talk to him as not--rather, if anything."

The captain shook his head in a puzzled way.

"That business of--of him and Zuba was the strangest thing," he declared. "I can't make head nor tail of it, and Gertie won't talk about it at all. He said 'twas a mistake, and of course it must have been.

Either that or he'd gone crazy. No sane man would--"

"What's that?" It was Mr. Ginn's turn to question, and Daniel's to look foolish. "What's that no sane man would do?" demanded Laban sharply.

"Why--why, go away and leave us without sayin' good-by," explained the captain, with surprising presence of mind. "Er--well, so long, Laban.

Make yourself at home. I've got to see how Serena is."

He hurried up the back stairs. Mr. Ginn, who seemed a trifle suspicious, called after him, but the call was unheeded.

At the door of his wife's room--his room no longer--Captain Dan rapped softly. The nurse opened the door.