St. Elmo Part 7

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Edna gave one swift glance around, saw that there were no other branches within reach, saw too that the dog's face was swelling and bleeding from its bruises, and, bending the stick across her knee, she snapped it into three pieces, which she threw as far as her strength would permit. There was a brief pause, broken only by the piteous howling of the suffering creature, and, as she began to realize what she had done, Edna's face reddened, and she put her hands over her eyes to shut out the vision of the enraged man, who was absolutely dumb with indignant astonishment. Presently a sneering laugh caused her to look through her fingers, and she saw "Ali," the dog, now released, fawning and whining at his master's feet.

"Aha! The way of all natures, human as well as brute. Pet and fondle and pamper them, they turn under your caressing hand and bite you; but bruise and trample them, and instantly they are on their knees licking the feet that kicked them. Begone! you bloodthirsty devil!

I'll settle the account at the kennel. Buffon is a fool, and Pennant was right after all. The blood of the jackal p.r.i.c.ks up your ears."

He spurned the crouching culprit, and as it slunk away in the direction of the house, Edna found herself alone, face to face with the object of her aversion, and she almost wished that the earth would open and swallow her. Mr. Murray came close to her, held her hands down with one of his, and placing the other under her chin, forced her to look at him.

"How dare you defy and disobey me?"

"I did not defy you, sir, but I could not help you to do what was wrong and cruel."

"I am the judge of my actions, and neither ask your help nor intend to permit your interference with what does not concern you."

"G.o.d is the judge of mine, sir, and if I had obeyed you, I should have been guilty of all you wished to do with that stick. I don't want to interfere, sir. I try to keep out of your way, and I am very sorry I happened to come here this evening. I did not dream of meeting you; I thought you had gone to town."

He read all her aversion in her eyes, which strove to avoid his, and smiling gently, he continued: "You evidently think that I am the very devil himself, walking the earth like a roaring lion. Mind your own affairs hereafter, and when I give you a positive order, obey it, for I am master here, and my word is law. Meddling or disobedience I neither tolerate nor forgive. Do you understand me?"

"I shall not meddle, sir."

"That means that you will not obey me unless you think proper?"

She was silent, and her beautiful soft eyes filled with tears.

"Answer me!"

"I have nothing to say that you would like to hear."

"What? Out with it!"

"You would have a right to think me impertinent if I said any more."

"No, I swear I will not devour you, say what you may."

She shook her head, and the motion brought two tears down on her cheeks.

"Oh, you are one of the stubborn sweet saints, whose lips even Torquemada's red-hot steel fingers could not open. Child, do you hate or dread me most? Answer that question."

He took his own handkerchief and wiped away the tears.

"I am sorry for you, sir," she said in a low voice.

He threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"Sorry for me! For me! Me? The owner of as many thousands as there are hairs on your head! Keep your pity for your poverty-stricken vagrant self! Why the deuce are you sorry for me?"

She withdrew her hands, which he seemed to hold unconsciously, and answered:

"Because, with all your money, you never will be happy."

"And what the d--l do I care for happiness? I am not such a fool as to expect it; and yet after all, 'Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings.' Pshaw! I am a fool nevertheless to waste words on you.

Stop! What do you think of my park, and the animals? I notice you often come here."

"The first time I saw it I thought of Noah and the ark, with two of every living thing; but an hour ago it seemed to me more like the garden of Eden, where the animals all lay down together in peace, before sin came into it."

"And Ali and I entered, like Satan, and completed the vision? Thank you, considering the fact that you are on my premises, and know something of my angelic, sanctified temper, I must say you indulge in bold flights of imagery."

"I did not say that, sir."

"You thought it nevertheless. Don't be hypocritical! Is not that what you thought of?"

She made no reply, and anxious to terminate an interview painfully embarra.s.sing to her, stepped forward to pick up the history which lay on the gra.s.s.

"What book is that?"

She handed it to him, and the leaves happened to open at a picture representing the murder of Becket. A scowl blackened his face as he glanced at it, and turned away, muttering:

"Malice prepense! or the devil!"

At a little distance, leisurely cropping the long gra.s.s, stood his favorite horse, whose arched forehead and peculiar mouse-color proclaimed his unmistakable descent from the swift hordes that scour the Kirghise steppes, and sanctioned the whim which induced his master to call him "Tamerlane." As Mr. Murray approached his horse, Edna walked away toward the house, fearing that he might overtake her; but no sound of hoofs reached her ears, and looking back as she crossed the avenue and entered the flower-garden, she saw horse and rider standing where she left them, and wondered why Mr. Murray was so still, with one arm on the neck of his Tartar pet, and his own head bent down on his hand.

In reflecting upon what had occurred, she felt her repugnance increase, and began to think that they could not live in the same house without continual conflicts, which would force her to abandon the numerous advantages now within her grasp. The only ray of hope darted through her mind when she recalled his allusion to a contemplated visit to the South Sea Islands, and the possibility of his long absence. Insensibly her dislike of the owner extended to everything he handled, and much as she had enjoyed the perusal of Dante, she determined to lose no time in restoring the lost volume, which she felt well a.s.sured his keen eyes would recognize the first time she inadvertently left it in the library or the greenhouse. The doubt of her honesty, which he had expressed to his mother, rankled in the orphan's memory, and for some days she had been nerving herself to antic.i.p.ate a discovery of the book by voluntarily restoring it. The rencontre in the park by no means diminished her dread of addressing him on this subject; but she resolved that the rendition of Caesar's things to Caesar should take place that evening before she slept.

CHAPTER VI.

The narrow, vaulted pa.s.sage leading to Mr. Murray's suit of rooms was dim and gloomy when Edna approached the partly opened door of the rotunda, whence issued a stream of light. Timidly she crossed the threshold and stood within on the checkered floor, whose polished tiles glistened under the glare of gas from bronze brackets representing Telamones, that stood at regular intervals around the apartment. The walls were painted in Saracenic style, and here and there hung specimens of Oriental armor--Turcoman cimeters, Damascus swords, Bedouin lances, and a crimson silk flag, with heavy gold fringe, surmounted by a crescent. The cornice of the lofty arched ceiling was elaborately arabesque, and as Edna looked up she saw through the gla.s.s roof the flickering of stars in the summer sky. In the centre of the room, immediately under the dome, stretched a billiard-table, and near it was a circular one of black marble, inlaid with red onyx and lapis lazuli, which formed a miniature zodiac similar to that at Denderah, while in the middle of this table sat a small Murano hour-gla.s.s, filled with sand from the dreary valley of El Ghor. A huge plaster Trimurti stood close to the wall, on a triangular pedestal of black rock, and the Siva-face and the writhing cobra confronted all who entered. Just opposite grinned a red granite slab with a quaint ba.s.so-relievo taken from the ruins of Elora. Near the door were two silken divans, and a richly carved urn, three feet high, which had once ornamented the facade of a tomb in the royal days of Petra, ere the curse fell on Edom, now stood an in memoriam of the original Necropolis. For what purpose this room was designed or used Edna could not imagine, and after a hasty survey of its singular furniture, she crossed the rotunda, and knocked at the door that stood slightly ajar. All was silent; but the smell of a cigar told her that the owner was within, and she knocked once more.

"Come in."

"I don't wish to come in; I only want to hand you something."

"Oh! the deuce you don't! But I never meet people even half-way, so come in you must, if you have anything to say to me. I have neither blue blazes nor pitchforks about me, and you will be safe inside. I give you my word there are no small devils shut up here, to fly away with whomsoever peeps in! Either enter, I say, or be off."

The temptation was powerful to accept the alternative; but as he had evidently recognized her voice, she pushed open the door and reluctantly entered. It was a long room, and at the end were two beautiful fluted white marble pillars, supporting a handsome arch, where hung heavy curtains of crimson Persian silk, that were now partly looped back, showing the furniture of the sleeping apartment beyond the richly carved arch. For a moment the bright light dazzled the orphan, and she shaded her eyes; but the next instant Mr. Murray rose from a sofa near the window, and advanced a step or two, taking the cigar from his lips.

"Come to the window and take a seat."

He pointed to the sofa; but she shook her head, and said quickly:

"I have something which belongs to you, Mr. Murray, which I think you must value very much, and therefore I wanted to see it safe in your own hands."

Without raising her eyes she held the book toward him.

"What is it?"

He took it mechanically, and with his gaze fixed on the girl's face; but as she made no reply, he glanced down at it, and his stern, swarthy face lighted up joyfully.

St. Elmo Part 7

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St. Elmo Part 7 summary

You're reading St. Elmo Part 7. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Augusta J. Evans already has 567 views.

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