Quill's Window Part 40

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"I'm glad you came, Courtney," he said, his voice hoa.r.s.e but steady.

"Lucinda will be pleased. Does she know you're here?"

"I sent word up, but if she doesn't feel like--"

"She'll want to see you. We're starting out again. Down the river."

(His voice shook a little.) "My soul,--boy,--you look as white as a sheet. Here,--take a good swig of this. It's some rye that Steve White brought over. We all needed it. Help yourself. You've been overdoing a little today, Courtney. You're not fit for this sort of--That's right! That will brace you up. You needed it, my boy."

Courtney drained half a tumbler of whiskey neat. He choked a little.

"I guess we'd better be starting, Amos," said Steve White.

"Take me along with you, Mr. Vick," cried Courtney, squaring his shoulders. "I can't stand being idle while--"

"You'd catch your death of cold," interrupted Vick, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder. "It's mighty fine of you and I--I sha'n't forget it. But you're not fit for an all night job like this. I feel sort of responsible for you, my boy. Your mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you, and this is a time when we've got to think about the mothers. Good night,--G.o.d bless you, Courtney."

"Good night, Amos."

The men trooped heavily out of the kitchen door.

Presently he heard the chugging of automobile engines and then the roar as they sped off down the road. He returned to the parlour.

The whiskey had given him fresh confidence.

The elderly woman was talking to a couple of men in the hall. From the sc.r.a.ps of conversation he was able to pick up, he gathered that they were reporters from the city. She invited him into the room.

"We would prefer a very recent picture," one of the men was saying.

"Something taken within the last few weeks, if possible. A snap-shot will do, Madam."

The speaker was a middle-aged man with horn-rimmed spectacles.

His companion was much the younger of the two. The latter bowed to Thane, who had taken a position before the fireplace and was regarding the strangers with interest.

"I'll have to speak to Mrs. Vick," murmured the woman. "I don't know as she would want Rosabel's picture printed in the papers."

"It would be of incalculable a.s.sistance, Madam, in case she has run away from home. We have an idea that she may have planted those garments in the boat in order to throw people off the track."

"Oh, she--she wouldn't have done that," cried the woman. "She couldn't be so heartless."

"You overlook the possibility that her mind may be affected. Dementia frequently takes the form of--er--you might say unnatural cunning."

"I'll speak to Mrs. Vick. There's a sc.r.a.p-book of Kodak pictures there on the table. I was looking through it today. She and her brother, Cale, made heaps of pictures. You might be looking through it while I go upstairs."

Thane was lighting a cigarette.

"Have you told Miss Crown that I am here?" asked he, as she started toward the stairs.

"She says she'll be down in a few minutes. Mrs. Vick wants to see you before you go."

The two reporters were examining the contents of the sc.r.a.p-book.

The younger of the two was standing at the end of the little marble-topped table, his body screening the book from Courtney's view.

There were a number of loose prints lying between the leaves toward the end of the book. Rosabel had neglected to paste them in. The man with the horn-rimmed spectacles ran through them hastily. He stealthily slipped two of these prints up his sleeve.

Thane would have been startled could he have seen those prints. They were not pictures of Rosabel Vick, but fair-sized, quite excellent likenesses of himself!

The woman returned to say that Mrs. Vick was very much upset by the thought of her daughter's picture appearing in the paper, and could not think of allowing them to use it.

The elder man bowed courteously. "I quite understand, Madam. We would not dream of using the picture if it would give pain to the unhappy mother. Please a.s.sure her that we respect her wishes. Thank you for your kindness. We must be on our way back to town. Good night, Madam."

"These reporters are awful nuisances," remarked Courtney as the front door closed behind the two men. "Always b.u.t.ting in where they're not wanted."

"They seemed very nice," observed the woman.

"I've never seen one that wasn't a sneak," said he, raising his voice a little. The whiskey was having its effect.

Mrs. Vick and Alix entered the room together. The former came straight toward the young man. Her rather heavy face was white and drawn, but her eyes were wide and bright with anxiety. There was no trace of tears. He knew there would be no scene, no hysterics.

Lucinda Vick was made of stern, heroic stuff. As he advanced, holding out his hands, he noticed that she was fully dressed. She could be ready at a moment's notice to go to her daughter.

"Oh, Courtney!" she cried, and a little spasm of pain convulsed her face for a fleeting second or two. Her voice was husky, tight with strain.

He took her cold, trembling hands in his.

"It's inconceivable," he cried. "I can't believe it, I won't believe it. You poor, poor thing!"

"It's true. She's gone. My little girl is gone. I could curse G.o.d."

She spoke in a low, emotionless voice. "Why should He have taken her in this way? What have we done to deserve this cruelty? Why couldn't He have let her die in my arms, with her head upon my breast,--where it belongs?"

"Don't give up--yet," he stammered, confounded by this amazing exhibition of self-control. "There is a chance,--yes, there is a chance, Mrs. Vick. Don't give up. Be--be brave."

She shook her head. "She is dead," came from her stiff lips, and that was all.

He laid his arm across her shoulder. "I wish to G.o.d it was me instead of her," he cried fervently. "I would take her place--willingly, Mrs. Vick."

"I--I know you would, Courtney," said she, looking into his eyes.

"You were her best friend. She adored you. I know you would,--G.o.d bless you!"

He looked away. His gaze fell upon Alix, standing in the door. His eyes brightened. The hunted expression left them. An eager, hungry light came into them. She was staring at him. Gradually he came to the realization that she was looking at him with unspeakable horror.

Mrs. Vick was speaking. He hardly heard a word she uttered.

"It was kind of you to come, Courtney. Thank you. I must go now.

I--I can't stand it,--I can't stand it!"

She left him abruptly. Alix stood aside to allow her to pa.s.s through the door. They heard her go up the stairs, heavily, hurriedly.

"Alix!" he whispered, holding out his hands.

She did not move.

"I went up to the house to see you," he hurried on. "They told me you were here. I--"

Her gesture checked the eager words.

Quill's Window Part 40

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Quill's Window Part 40 summary

You're reading Quill's Window Part 40. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Barr McCutcheon already has 556 views.

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