Her Weight in Gold and others Part 37

"Digby, what did that man mean?" asked Kate, finally pulling her wits together. There was something like sternness in her voice, something like resentment, something like tears. He tried to look into her eyes; eyes which were upturned to his so anxiously, but he could not. There was something creeping up in his throat that compelled him to gulp suddenly. A rush of shamed degradation flashed over him, overwhelming him completely, and before he could prevent it his honest, contrite heart had spoken.

"Little girl--G.o.d forgive me--I was trying to steal that--that basket."

He felt her start and gasp and he could distinguish the horror, the shock in her eyes, although he did not see them. Her hand relaxed its clasp upon his arm and her trembling voice murmured:

"Oh, Digby! Oh, Digby!"

"Don't--Don't, for heaven's sake, don't, Kate! Don't blame me! I did it for you, for the baby--I--I couldn't see you hungry on Christmas"--and here the tears rolled down his cheeks and the words came thick and choking. "Kate, I don't think I committed a crime--do you? Say you don't think so, darling!"

"You were stealing," she whispered, numbly.

"For you, darling--please--please forget it--I--I--Oh, I can't say anything more." Her clasp tightened again on his arm and he felt the warm spirit of forgiveness, of love communicating with his own miserable self. No word came to either as they faced the cutting wind, bound they knew not whither, so distraught were they with the importance of the moment.

Suddenly he stopped as if struck by a great blow. A glare came to his eyes and his brain fairly reeled. Pus.h.i.+ng her away at arm's length from him he gave expression to the sudden thought which had so strangely affected him.

"Where did you get the money to buy that stuff with?" he demanded, and there was anger, suspicion, almost terror in his voice. His ready brain had resumed the thoughts of an hour ago. He saw but one solution and it came rus.h.i.+ng along with the reawakened thoughts, firing his soul with jealousy. Joe Delapere had been providing his wife with money--he could not be mistaken. Horrible! Horrible!

But back came her answer, equally severe, and if as from a sudden recollection, also:

"Where did you get it?"

"Get what? he demanded, harshly. Joe Delapere! Joe Delapere! Joe Delapere--that lover of old filled his brain like a raging fire.

"You know what I mean, Digby Trotter--what is it that you mean? Where did you get that ten dollars you had in your pocket today?"

"Oh, heaven!" gasped Digby, almost falling over. Then he burst into rapturous laughter, and, right there on the sidewalk, embraced her vigorously. Not all the riches in the world could have purchased the one moment of relief.

"What ten?" he cried. "Was that the ten! Oh, you dear, dear little Kate--did you do it? I thought I had lost it on the street. Oh, this is rich!" and he laughed heartier than ever.

"Stop!" she cried, her face flaming. "Where did you get it? Why did you tell me that you had no money? Have you been doing this all along--all these bitter years?"

He sobered up in an instant, for he saw the situation as she had seen it.

"Why, Kate, I--now, listen a minute! You probably won't believe me, but I swear to you I found that bill--"

"Found it!" she sneered. "That's very likely, isn't it?"

"I knew you'd say that--but I found it, just the same," he went on patiently. "Joe Delapere dropped it as he was getting into a carriage--yes, he did, now--and he drove off before I could pick it up and return it to him. I kept the money, intending to give it back to him. That's true, dear--so help me G.o.d. Don't you believe me?" He was very, very much in earnest, but she was woman enough to question further.

"Why didn't you tell me of this before?"

"Because I--well, I didn't get that place at Balling and Feet's and I didn't have the heart to tell you I had failed again. I kept the hill just to deceive you. Heaven is my witness that I intended to pay it back to Joe, but the temptation was too great--I couldn't resist. Don't you understand now, dear? I wanted it for you and Helen; you don't know how I prized it. It meant so much. Why, when I started down town to buy the little dinner that I afterwards tried to steal--"

"From me," she interrupted.

"Yes, from you--I felt so happy in that I was sinning gently for you.

Then I missed the bill and--well, the other followed; you know what I mean. You don't think I'm a real thief, do you, Kate?"

"No, no, dear; forgive me!" she cried, with true wifely penitence. "I see it all and I love you for it, better than ever before." She squeezed his arm tightly and squeezed her eyelids vainly. "But you must never do it again," she cautioned, tenderly. He laughed again, that unwilling thief and pauper.

"Oh, by the way, while I think of it, how did you happen to have that ten?" he asked, with cruel glee.

She felt even guiltier than he and her voice was quite feeble as she answered:

"Well, you remember when I was mending your trousers," she began. He gave her arm a tremendous pressure and interrupted:

"But the hole wasn't in the pocket, dear, was it?"

"Oh, you'll forgive me, won't you truly, Digby?" she almost wailed.

"But you were stealing!" he said, solemnly, recalling her condemnatory words.

"Don't say it that way, Digby," she protested, so faintly that his heart smote him and he changed the subject with almost ridiculous haste.

"Hadn't we better go to another grocery and buy our Christmas dinner,"

he suggested.

"No, indeed!" she exclaimed. "With what could we buy it!"

"With my--your ten, I mean."

"Digby Trotter, we may carry on our nefarious robberies as individuals, but I don't intend to form a partners.h.i.+p in the business. I don't approve of doing it collectively."

"But what will we do with the money? Burn it?"

"I thought you wanted to give it back to its owner."

"But he won't miss it--not just yet, anyhow," he expostulated.

"Neither shall you; you are never to see it again," she said, firmly, clasping the little purse defiantly.

"Well, I guess you're right. We'll do without our turkey dinner. It's pretty rough, though, when we are nearer being millionaires than we have been in months," he said, regretfully.

"I couldn't eat a mouthful of turkey bought with Joe Delapere's money,"

she said, and he felt his heart throb joyfully for some strange cause.

Homeward they wended their disconsolate way, her arm through his, clinging fondly to him, he proud of the honour she was bestowing upon him--poor, poor lovers! In spite of all, he felt better for that which had happened. He had begun what might have been a career of crime.

Circ.u.mstance and her sweet influence had averted that career. She, too, had learned a lesson, deeper in its meaning than any logic could have been; she had distrusted him. Honour, love and duty bound them together again. They were going home to dine on dried beef, water and perhaps bread--Christmas day, too.

Firmly they turned their wistful eyes from the shop windows; they had nothing in common with them, save desire.

At last they came to the dingy entrance which led to the long halls and multigenerous stairways of their abiding place. Without a word they began to climb the steps, tired and with returning discouragement. They were thinking of the baby. Tears came to the father's eyes, but he turned his face away and attempted to whistle. She pressed his arm again in silence, but for the same reason she looked toward the wall.

At the first landing he paused and drew her to his breast. As their lips met in one brave, compa.s.sionate kiss a sob fled from the heart of each.

Drawing nearer the top floor they heard strange sounds coming from their own room. A gruff, hoa.r.s.e voice was prominent and they stopped to look into each other's eyes with hopeless alarm.

"It's the landlord," whispered Digby. "I might have known it would all come at once!"