The Hillman

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  XXXVIII

  It was a room of silence, save for the hissing of the green logs thatburned on the open hearth, and for the slow movements of Jennings as hecleared the table. Straight and grim in his chair, with the newspaper byhis side, Stephen Strangewey sat smoking stolidly. Opposite to him,almost as grim, equally silent, sat John.

  "Things were quiet at Market Ketton to-day, then, John?" Stephen askedat last.

  "There was nothing doing," was the brief reply.

  That, for the space of a quarter of an hour or so, was the sole attemptat conversation between the two brothers. Then Jennings appeared with adecanter of wine and two glasses, which he reverently filled. Stephenheld his up to the light and looked at it critically. John's remained byhis side, unnoticed.

  "A glass for yourself, Jennings," Stephen ordered.

  "I thank ye kindly, sir," the old man replied.

  He fetched a glass from the sideboard, filled it, and held itrespectfully before him.

  "It's the old toast," Stephen said glumly. "You know it!"

  "Aye, Master Stephen!" the servant assented. "We've drunk it togetherfor many a long year. I give it ye now with all my heart--confusion toall women!"

  They both glanced toward John, who showed no signs of movement. Thenthey drank together, the older man and his servant. Still John nevermoved. Jennings drained his glass, placed the decanter by his master'sside, and withdrew.

  "So the poison's still there, brother?" Stephen asked.

  "And will be so long as I live," John confessed gloomily. "For all that,I'll not drink your toast."

  "Why not?"

  "There was a little girl--you saw her when you were in London. She ismarried now, but I think of her sometimes; and when I do, you and oldJennings seem to me like a couple of blithering idiots cursing thingstoo wonderful for you to understand!"

  Stephen made no protest. For a time he smoked in silence. Curiouslyenough, as they sat there together, some of the grim fierceness seemedto have passed from his expression and settled upon John. More thanonce, as he looked across at his younger brother, it almost seemed as ifthere was something of self-reproach in his questioning look.

  "You dined at the ordinary in Market Ketton?" Stephen asked at last.

  "I did."

  "Then you heard the news?"

  "Who could help it?" John muttered. "There wasn't much else talkedabout."

  "Bailiff Henderson has been over here," Stephen went on. "There's asmall army of painters and decorators coming down to the castle nextweek. You saw the announcement of the wedding in the _Morning Post_,maybe?"

  John assented without words. Stephen smoked vigorously for a fewmoments. Every now and then he glanced across to where John was sitting.Once again the uneasiness was in his eyes, an uneasiness which wasalmost self-reproach.

  "You mind what I called her once, John--a witch-woman? She is that,right enough. This marriage of hers proves it. Although he is half aFrenchman, the Prince of Seyre is the greatest landowner in the county.He is the worst landlord, maybe, but the blood's there. He is a man whohas lived among women all his life. He should know something about them,and be proof against their wiles. Yet he's going to marry her nextThursday!"

  John moved a little restlessly in his chair.

  "Let's drop it, Stephen," he begged. "We both know the facts. She isgoing to marry him, and that's the end of it. Fill your glass up again.Here's mine untouched. I'll drink your toast with you, if you'll leaveout the little girl who was kind to me. I'll give it to youmyself--confusion to all women!"

  "Confusion to--" Stephen began. "What on earth is that?"

  They both heard it at the same time--the faint beating of a motor-enginein the distance. John set down his glass. There was a strange look inhis eyes.

  "There are more cars passing along the road now than in the old days,"he muttered; "but that's a queer sound. It reminds one--good Heavens,how it reminds one!"

  There was a look of agony in his face for a moment. Then once more heraised his glass to his lips.

  "It's passed out of hearing," Stephen said. "It's some one on the way tothe castle, maybe."

  Still their glasses remained suspended in mid air. The little gardengate had opened and closed with a click; there were footsteps upon theflinty walk.

  "It's some one coming here!" John cried hoarsely. "Why can't they keepaway? It's two years ago this week since I brought her up the drive andyou met us at the front door. Two years ago, Stephen! Who can it be?"

  They heard the front door open, they heard Jenning's voice raised inunusual and indignant protest. Then their own door was suddenly flungwide, and a miracle happened. John's glass slipped from his fingers, andthe wine streamed out across the carpet. He shrank back, gripping thetablecloth. Stephen turned his head, and sat as if turned to stone.

  "John!"

  She was coming toward him exactly as he had dreamed of her so manytimes, her hands outstretched, her lips quivering, with that sweet lookin her face which had dwelt there once for a few days--just a few daysof her life.

  "John," she faltered, "it isn't the car this time--it is I who havebroken down! I cannot go on. I have no pride left. I have come to you.Will you help me?"

  He found himself upon his feet. Stephen, too, had risen. She stoodbetween the two men, and glanced from one to the other. Then she lookedmore closely into John's face, peering forward with a little start ofpain, and her eyes were filled with tears.

  "John," she cried, "forgive me! You were so cruel that morning, and youseemed to understand so little. Don't you really understand, even now?Have you ever known the truth, I wonder?"

  "The truth!" he echoed hoarsely. "Don't we all know that? Don't we allknow that he is to give you your rights, that you are coming--"

  "Stop!" she ordered him.

  He obeyed, and for a moment there was silence--a tense, strainedsilence.

  "John," she continued at last, "I have no rights to receive from thePrince of Seyre. He owes me nothing. Listen! Always we have seen lifedifferently, you and I. To me there is only one great thing, and that islove; and beyond that nothing counts. I tried to love the prince beforeyou came, and I thought I did, and I promised him at last what you know,because I believed that he loved me and that I loved him, and that if soit was his right. Look down the road, John! On that night I was on myway to the castle, to give myself to him; but I broke down, and in themorning the world was all different, and I went back to London. It hasbeen different ever since, and there has never been any question ofanything between the prince and me, because I knew that it was notlove."

  John was shaking in every limb. His eyes were filled with fiercequestioning. Stephen sat there, and there was wonder in his face, too.

  "When you came to me that morning," she went on, "you spoke to me in astrange tongue. I couldn't understand you, you seemed so far away. Iwanted to tell you the whole truth, but I didn't. Perhaps I wasn'tsure--perhaps it seemed to me that it was best for me to forget, if everI had cared, for the ways of our lives seemed so far apart. You wentaway, and I drifted on; but it wasn't true that I ever promised to marrythe prince. No one had any right to put that paragraph in thenewspaper!"

  "But what are you doing here, then?" John asked hoarsely. "Aren't you onyour way to the castle?"

  She came a little nearer still; her arms went around his neck.

  "You dear stupid!" she cried. "Haven't I told you? I've tried to dowithout you, and I can't. I've come for you. Come outside, please! It'squite light. The moon's coming over the hills. I want to walk up theorchard. I want to hear just what I've come to hear!"

  He passed out of the room in a dream, under the blossom-laden boughs ofthe orchard, and up the hillside toward the church. The dream passed,but Louise remained, flesh and blood. Her lips were warm and her armsheld him almost feverishly.

  "In that little church, John, and quickly--so quickly, please!" shewhispered.

  * * * * *

&nb
sp; Jennings hastened in to where Stephen was sitting alone.

  "Mr. Stephen," he cried, "what's coming to us? There's that French hussyoutside, and a motor-car in the drive, and the chauffeur's asking wherehe's to sleep. The woman wants to know whether she can have the samebedroom for her mistress as last time!"

  "Then why don't you go and see about it, you old fool?" Stephen replied."Pick up those pieces of glass there, lay the cloth, and get some supperready."

  Jennings gazed at his master, dumbfounded. No power of speech remainedto him.

  Through the open doorway they heard Aline's voice in the hall.

  "Meester Jennings, will you please come and help me with the luggage?"

  "Get along with you!" Stephen ordered. "You'd better hurry up with thesupper, too. The boy Tom can see to the luggage."

  The old man recovered himself slowly.

  "You're taking 'em in, sir--taking 'em into the house?" he gasped. "Whatabout that toast?"

  Stephen refilled two glasses.

  "We'd better alter it a little," he declared. "Here's confusion to mostwomen, but luck to John and his wife!"

  "Mr. John and his wife!" Jennings repeated, as he set his glass downempty. "I'll just see that them sheets is aired up-stairs, sir, or thathussy will be making eyes at Tom!"

  He departed, and Stephen was left alone. He sat and listened to thesound of luggage being taken upstairs, to Aline's little torrent ofdirections, good-humored but profuse, to the sound of preparations inthe kitchen. In the room the tall clock ticked solemnly; a fragment ofthe log every now and then fell upon the hearth.

  Presently he rose to his feet. He heard the click of the garden gate,the sound of John and Louise returning. He rose and stood ready towelcome them.

  THE END

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  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

  Text in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_).

  Text in bold is enclosed by equal signs (=bold=).

  Text in small caps have been replaced with ALL CAPS.

  Errors in spelling and punctuations were not corrected unless otherwisenoted below:

  On page 5, "unforgetable" was replaced with "unforgettable".

  On page 51, the comma after "more time here" was replaced with a period.

  On page 81, "confesed" was replaced with "confessed".

  On page 97, "he said." was replaced with "she said.".

  On page 132, "Gaillot" was replaced with "Graillot".

  On page 241, "carefullly" was replaced with "carefully".

  On page 269, "tast" was replaced with "taste".