Master Tales of Mystery Part 55

"Utterly, miserably alone. Oh, Mr. Shaw!" she cried despairingly. "You _will_ understand, won't you?"

"Never! Never as long as I live. It is beyond comprehension. The wonderful part of it all is that I was sitting in there dreaming of you--yes, I was. I heard some one out here, investigated and found you--_you_, of all people in the world. And I was dreaming that I held you in my arms. Yes, I was! I was dreaming it--"

"Mr. Shaw! You shouldn't--"

"And I awoke to find you--not in my arms, not in Bazelhurst Villa, but here--here on my porch."

"Like a thief in the night," she murmured. "What _do_ you think of me?"

"Shall I tell you--really?" he cried. The light in his eyes drove her back a step or two, panic in her heart.

"N--no, no--not now!" she gasped, but a great wave of exaltation swept through her being. He turned and walked away, too dazed to speak.

Without knowing it, she followed with hesitating steps. At the edge of the porch he paused and looked into the darkness.

"By Jove, I _must_ be dreaming," she heard him mutter.

"No, you are not," she declared desperately. "I _am_ here. I ask your protection for the night. I am going away--to England--to-morrow. I couldn't stay there--I just couldn't. I'm sorry I came here--I'm--"

"Thank haven, you _did_ come," he exclaimed, turning to her joyously. "You are like a fairy--the fairy princess come true. It's unbelievable! But--but what was it you said about England?" he concluded, suddenly sober.

"I am go--going home. There's no place else. I can't live with her,"

she said, a bit tremulously.

"To England? At once? Your father--will he--"

"My father? I have no father. Oh!" with a sudden start. Her eyes met his in a helpless stare. "I never thought. My home was at Bazelhurst Castle--their home. I can't go there. Good heavens, what am I to do?"

A long time afterward she recalled his exultant exclamation, checked at its outset--recalled it with a perfect sense of understanding. With rare good taste he subdued whatever it was that might have struggled for expression and simply extended his right hand to relieve her of the lantern.

"We never have been enemies, Miss Drake," he said, controlling his voice admirably. "But had we been so up to this very instant, I am sure I'd surrender now. I don't know what has happened at the Villa.

It doesn't matter. You are here to ask my protection and my help. I am at your service, my home is yours, my right hand also. You are tired and wet and--nervous. Won't you come inside? I'll get a light in a jiffy and Mrs. Ulrich, my housekeeper, shall be with you as soon as I can rout her out. Come in, please." She held back doubtfully, a troubled, uncertain look in her eyes.

"You _will_ understand, won't you?" she asked simply.

"And no questions asked," he said from the doorway. Still she held back, her gaze going involuntarily to the gla.s.ses on the table. He interpreted the look of inquiry. "There were two of us. The doctor was here picking out the shot, that's all. He's gone. It's all right. Wait here and I'll get a light." The flame in her lantern suddenly ended its feeble life.

She stood inside his doorway and heard him shuffle across the floor in search of the lamps.

"Dark as Egypt, eh?" he called out from the opposite side of the room.

"Not as dark as the forest, Mr. Shaw."

"Good heavens, what a time you must have had. All alone, were you?"

"Of course. I was not eloping."

"I beg your pardon."

"Where were you sitting when I came up?"

"Here--in the dark. I was waiting for the storm to come and dozed away, I daresay. I love a storm, don't you?"

"Yes, if I'm indoors. Ah!" He had struck a match and was lighting the wick of a lamp beside the huge fireplace. "I suppose you think I'm perfectly crazy. I'm horrid."

"Not at all. Sit down here on the couch, please. More cheerful, eh?

Good Lord, listen to the wind. You got here just in time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have Mrs. Ulrich down in a minute. She'll take good care of you. And I'll make you a nice hot drink, too. You need it." In the door of the big living-room he turned to her, a look of extreme doubt in his eyes. "By Jove, I bet I _do_ wake up. It can't be true." She laughed plaintively and shook her head in humble self-abas.e.m.e.nt. "Don't be lonesome. I'll he back in a minute."

"Don't hurry," she murmured apologetically. Then she settled back limply in the wide couch and inspected the room, his footsteps noisily clattering down the long hallway to the left. She saw, with some misgiving, that it was purely a man's habitation. Shaw doubtless had built and furnished the big cottage without woman as a consideration.

The room was large, comfortable, solid; there was not a suggestion of femininity in it--high or low--except the general air of cleanliness.

The furniture was rough-hewn and built for use, not ornamentation; the walls were hung with English prints, antlers, mementoes of the hunt and the field of sport; the floor was covered with skins and great "carpet rag" rugs. The whole aspect was so distinctly mannish that her heart fluttered ridiculously in its loneliness. Her cogitations were running seriously toward riot when he came hurriedly down the hall and into her presence.

"She'll be down presently. In fact, so will the cook and the housemaid. Gad, Miss Drake, they were so afraid of the storm that all of them piled into Mrs. Ulrich's room. I wonder at your courage in facing the symptoms outdoors. Now, I'll fix you a drink. Take off your hat--be comfortable. Cigarette? Good! Here's my sideboard. See? It's a nuisance, this having only one arm in commission; affects my style as a barkeep. Don't stir; I'll be able--"

"Let me help you. I mean, please don't go to so much trouble. Really I want nothing but a place to sleep to-night. This couch will do--honestly. And some one to call me at daybreak, so that I may be on my way." He looked at her and laughed quizzically. "Oh, I'm in earnest, Mr. Shaw. I wouldn't have stopped here if it hadn't been for the storm."

"Come, now, Miss Drake, you spoil the fairy tale. You _did_ intend to come here. It was the only place for you to go--and I'm glad of it. My only regret is that the house isn't filled with chaperons."

"Why?" she demanded with a guilty start.

"Because I could then say to you all the things that are in my heart--aye, that are almost bursting from my lips. I--I can't say them now, you know," he said, and she understood his delicacy. For some minutes she sat in silence watching him as he clumsily mixed the drinks and put the water over the alcohol blaze. Suddenly he turned to her with something like alarm in his voice. "By George, you don't suppose they'll pursue you?"

"Oh, wouldn't that be jolly? It would be like the real story-book--the fairy and the ogres and all that. But," dubiously, "I'm sorely afraid they consider me rubbish, Still--" looking up encouragingly--"my brother would try to find me if he--if he knew that I was gone."

To her surprise, he whistled softly and permitted a frown of anxiety to creep over his face. "I hadn't thought of that," he observed reflectively. Then he seemed to throw off the momentary symptoms of uneasiness, adding, with a laugh: "I daresay nothing will happen. The storm would put a stop to all idea of pursuit."

"Let them pursue," she said, a stubborn light in her eyes. "I am my own mistress, Mr. Shaw. They can't take me, w.i.l.l.y nilly, as if I were a child, you know."

"That's quite true. You don't understand," he said slowly, his back to her.

"You mean the law? Is it different from ours?"

"Not that. The--er--situation. You see, they might think it a trifle odd if they found you here--with me. Don't you understand?" He turned to her with a very serious expression. She started and sat bolt upright to stare at him comprehensively.

"You mean--it--it isn't quite--er--"

"Regular, perhaps," he supplied "Please keep your seat! I'm not the censor; I'm not even an opinion. Believe me, Miss Drake, my only thought was and is for your good."

"I see. They would believe evil of me if they knew I had come to you,"

she mused, turning quite cold.

"I know the kind of people your sister-in-law has at her place, Miss Drake. Their sort can see but one motive in anything--You know them, too, I daresay."

"Yes, I know them," she said uneasily. "Good heavens, what a fool I've been," she added, starting to her feet. "I might have known they'll say all sorts of terrible things. They must not find me here. Mr.

Shaw, I'm--I am so ashamed--I wonder what you are thinking of me." Her lip trembled and there was such a pleading look in her dark eyes that he controlled himself with difficulty. It was only by imposing the severest restraint upon his susceptibilities that he was able to approach her calmly.

"I can't tell you now--not here--what I am thinking. It isn't the place. Maybe--maybe you can read my thought, Penel--Miss Drake. Look up, please. Can't you read--oh, there now--I beg your pardon! You come to me for protection and I--well, don't be too hard on me just yet.

I'll find the time and place to tell you." He drew away almost as his hand was ready to clasp hers--all because her sweet eyes met his trustingly--he could have sworn--lovingly.

"Just now I am a poor little reprobate," she sighed ever so miserably.