The Odds Part 45

"A friend?" asked the big man.

Hilary coloured a little.

"Well," she said half-reluctantly, "I suppose one would call him that."

"I believe you're in love with Culver's half-breed American," said Cosmo Fletcher brutally, nearly three weeks later. He had just been rejected finally and emphatically by the girl who faced him in the stern of his skiff.

She was very pale, but her eyes were full of resolution as they met his.

"That," she said, "is no business of yours. Please take me back!"

He looked as if he would have liked to refuse, but her steadfast eyes compelled him. Sullenly he turned the boat.

Dead silence reigned between them till, as they rounded a bend in the river and came within sight of the house-boat, Fletcher, glancing over his shoulder, caught sight of a big figure seated on the deck.

Then he turned to the girl with a sneer:

"It might interest Jack Merrivale to hear of this pretty little romance of yours," he said.

The colour flamed in her cheeks.

"Tell him then!" she said defiantly.

"I think I must," said Fletcher. "He and I are such old friends."

He waited for her to tell him that it was on his account that they had quarrelled, but she would not so far gratify him, maintaining a stubborn silence till they drew alongside. Jacques rose to hand her on board.

"I hope you have enjoyed your row," he said courteously.

"Thanks!" she returned briefly, avoiding his eyes. "I think it is too hot to enjoy anything to-day."

The tea-kettle was singing merrily on the dainty bra.s.s spirit-lamp, and she sat down at the table forthwith.

Jacques stood beside her, silent and friendly as a tame mastiff. Perhaps his presence after what had just pa.s.sed between herself and Fletcher made her nervous, or perhaps her thoughts were elsewhere and she forgot to be cautious. Whatever the cause, she took up the kettle carelessly and knocked it against the spirit-lamp with some force.

Jacques swooped forward and steadied it before it could overturn; but the dodging flame caught the girl's muslin sleeve and set it ablaze in an instant. She uttered a cry and started up with a wild idea of flinging herself into the river, but Jacques was too quick for her. He turned and seized the burning fabric in his great hands, ripping it away from her arm and crus.h.i.+ng out the flames with unflinching strength.

"Don't be frightened!" he said. "It's all right. I've got it out."

"And what of you?" she gasped, eyes of horror on his blackened hands.

He smiled at her rea.s.suringly.

"Well done, man!" cried d.i.c.k Culver. "It was like you to save her life while we were thinking about it. Are you hurt, Hilary?"

"No," she said, with trembling lips. "But--but--"

She broke off on the verge of tears, and d.i.c.k considerately transferred his attention to his friend.

"Let's see the damage, old fellow!"

"It is nothing," said Jacques, still faintly smiling. "Yes, you may see it if you like, if only to prove that I speak the truth."

He thrust out one hand and displayed a scorched and blistered palm.

"Call that nothing!" began d.i.c.k.

Fletcher suddenly pushed forward with an oath that startled them all.

"I should know that hand anywhere!" he exclaimed. "You infernal, lying impostor!"

There was an elaborate tattoo of the American flag on the extended wrist, to which he pointed with a furious laugh.

"Deny it if you can!" he said.

Jacques looked at him gravely, without the smallest sign of agitation.

"You certainly have good reason to know that hand rather well," he said after a moment, speaking with extreme deliberation, "considering that it has had the privilege of giving you the finest thras.h.i.+ng of your life."

Fletcher turned purple. He looked as if he were going to strike the speaker on the mouth. But before he could raise his hand Hilary suddenly forced herself between them.

"Mr. Fletcher," she said, her voice quivering with anger, "go instantly!

There is your boat. And never come near us again!"

Fletcher fell back a step, but he was too furious to obey such a command.

"Do you think I am going to leave that confounded humbug to have it all his own way?" he snarled. "I tell you--"

But here Culver intervened.

"You shut up!" he ordered sternly. "We've had too much of you already.

You had better go."

He took Fletcher imperatively by the arm, but Jacques intervened.

"Pray let the gentleman speak, d.i.c.k!" he said. "It will ease his feelings perhaps."

"No!" broke in Hilary breathlessly. "No, no! I won't listen! I tell you I won't!" facing the big man almost fiercely. "Tell me yourself if you like!"

He looked at her closely, still with that odd half-smile upon his face.

Then, before them all, he took her hand, and, bending, held it to his lips.

"Thank you, Hilary!" he said very softly.

In the privacy of her own cabin Hilary removed her tatters and cooled her tingling cheeks. She and her brother were engaged to dine at d.i.c.k's bungalow that night, but an overwhelming shyness possessed her, and at the last moment she persuaded Bertie to go alone. It was plain that for some reason Bertie was hugely amused, and she thought it rather heartless of him.