Greatheart

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER IX

  THE BURDEN

  Sir Eustace was standing by the window of the little boudoir when hisbrother entered, and Scott joined him there. He also lighted a cigarette,and they smoked together in silence for several seconds.

  Finally Eustace turned with his faint, supercilious smile. "What's thematter, Stumpy? Something on your mind?"

  Scott met his look. "Something I've got to say to you anyway, old chap,that rather sticks in my gullet."

  Sir Eustace laughed. "You carry conscience enough for the two of us. Whatis it? Fire away!"

  Scott puffed at his cigarette. "You won't like it," he observed. "Butit's got to be said. Look here, Eustace! It's all very well to be inlove. But you're carrying it too far. The child's downright afraid ofyou."

  "Has she told you so?" demanded Eustace. A hot gleam suddenly shone inhis blue eyes. He looked down at Scott with a frown.

  Scott shook his head. "If she had, I shouldn't tell you so. But the factremains. You're a bit of an ogre, you know, always have been. Slack off abit, there's a good fellow! You'll find it's worth it."

  He spoke with the utmost gentleness, but there was determination in hisquiet eyes. Having spoken, he turned them upon the garden again andresumed his cigarette.

  There fell a brief silence between them. Sir Eustace was no longersmoking. His frown had deepened. Suddenly he laid his hand upon Scott'sshoulder.

  "It's my turn now," he said. "I've something to say to you."

  "Well?" said Scott. He stiffened a little at the hold upon him, but hedid not attempt to frustrate it.

  "Only this." Eustace pressed upon him as one who would convey a warning."You've interfered with me more than once lately, and I've borne withit--more or less patiently. But I'm not going to bear with it muchlonger. You may be useful to me, but--you're not indispensable. Rememberthat!"

  Scott started at the words, as a well-bred horse starts at the flicker ofthe whip. He controlled himself instantly, but his eyelids quivered alittle as he answered, "I will remember it."

  Sir Eustace's hand fell. "I think that is all that need be said," heobserved. "We will get to business."

  He turned from the window, but in the same moment Scott wheeled also andtook him by the arm. "One moment!" he said. "Eustace, we are not going toquarrel over this. You don't imagine, do you, that I interfere with youin this way for my own pleasure?"

  He spoke urgently, an odd wistfulness in voice and gesture.

  Sir Eustace paused. The sternness still lingered in his eyes though hisface softened somewhat as he said, "I haven't gone into the question ofmotives, Stumpy. I have no doubt they are--like yourself--very worthy,though it might not soothe me greatly to know what they are."

  Scott still held his arm. "Oh, man," he said very earnestly, "don't missthe best thing in life for want of a little patience! She's such a child.She doesn't understand. For your own sake give her time!"

  There was that in his tone that somehow made further offence impossible.A faint, half-grudging smile took the place of the grimness on hisbrother's face.

  "You take things so mighty seriously," he said. "What's the matter? Whathas she been saying?"

  Scott hesitated. "I can't tell you that. I imagine it is more what shedoesn't say that makes me realize the state of her mind. I can tell youone thing. She would rather go shopping with Isabel to-morrow thanpicnicking in the wilderness with you, and if you're wise, you'll give inand let her go. You'll run a very grave risk of losing her altogetherif you ask too much."

  "What do you mean?" Eustace's voice was short and stern; the question waslike a sword thrust.

  Again Scott hesitated. Then very steadily he made reply. "I meanthat--with or without reason, you know best--she is beginning not totrust you. It is more than mere shyness with her. She is genuinelyfrightened."

  His words went into silence, and in the silence he took out hishandkerchief and wiped his forehead. It had been a more difficultinterview for him than Eustace would ever realize. His powers ofendurance were considerable, but he had an almost desperate desire now toescape.

  But some instinct kept him where he was. To fail at the last moment forlack of perseverance would have been utterly uncharacteristic of him. Itwas his custom to stand his ground to the last, whatever the cost.

  And so he forced himself to wait while his brother contemplated theunpleasant truth that he had imparted. He knew that it was not in hisnature to spend long over the process, but he was still by no means sureof the final result.

  Eustace spoke at length very suddenly. "See here, Stumpy!" he said."There may be something in what you say, and there may not. But in anycase, you and Dinah are getting altogether too intimate and confidentialto please me. It's up to you to put the brake on a bit. Understand?"

  He smiled as he said it, but there was a gleam as of cold steel behindhis smile.

  Scott straightened himself. It was as if something within him leapt tomeet the steel. Spent though he was, this was a matter no man couldshirk.

  "I shall do nothing of the kind," he said. "Do you think I'd destroy hertrust in me too? I'd sell my soul sooner."

  The words were passionate, and the man as he uttered them seemed suddenlygalvanized with a new force, a force irresistible, elemental, evensublime. The elder brother's brows went up in amazement. He did not knowStumpy in that mood. He found himself confronted with a power colossalmanifested in the meagre frame, and before that power instinctively,wholly involuntarily, he gave ground.

  "I see you mean to please yourself," he said, and turned to go with asub-conscious feeling that if he lingered he would have the worst of it."But I warn you if you get in my way, you'll be kicked. So look out!"

  It was not a conciliatory speech, but it was the outcome of undoubteddiscomfiture. He was so accustomed to submission from Scott that he hadcome to look upon it as inevitable. His sudden self-assertion was oddlydisconcerting.

  So also was the laugh that followed his threat, a careless laugh whollydevoid of bitterness which yet in some fashion inexplicable pierced hisarmour, making him feel ashamed.

  "You know exactly what I think of that sort of thing, don't you?" Scottsaid. "That's the best of having no special physical attractions. Onedoesn't need to think of appearances."

  Sir Eustace made no rejoinder. He could think of nothing to say; for heknew that Scott's attitude was absolutely sincere. For physical sufferinghe cared not one jot. The indomitable spirit of the man lifted him aboveit. He was fashioned upon the same lines as the men who faced the lionsof Rome. No bodily pain could ever daunt him.

  He went from the room haughtily but in his heart he carried an oddmisgiving that burned and spread like a slow fire, consuming his pride.Scott had withstood him, Scott the weakling, and in so doing had made himaware of a strength that exceeded his own.

  As for Scott, the moment he was alone he drew a great breath of relief,and almost immediately after opened the French window and passed quietlyout into the garden.

  The dusk was falling, and the air smote chill; yet he moved slowly forth,closing the window behind him and so down into the desolate shrubberieswhere he paced for a long, long time....

  When he went to Isabel's room more than an hour later, his eyes wereheavy with weariness, and he moved like a man who bears a burden.

  She was alone, and looked up at his entrance with a smile of welcome."Come and sit down, Stumpy! I've seen nothing of you. Dinah has only justleft me. She tells me Eustace is talking of a picnic for to-morrow, butreally she ought to give her mind to her trousseau if she is ever to beready in time. Do you think Eustace can be induced to see reason?"

  "I don't know," Scott said. He seated himself by Isabel's side and leanedback against the cushions, closing his eyes.

  "You are tired," she said gently.

  "Oh, only a little, Isabel!" He spoke without moving, making no effort toveil his weariness from her.

  "What is it, dear?" she said.

  "I am very anxious about Dinah." He spoke the wor
ds deliberately; hisface remained absolutely still and expressionless.

  "Anxious, Stumpy!" Isabel echoed the word quickly, almost as though itgave her relief to speak. "Oh, so am I--terribly anxious. She is soyoung, so utterly unprepared for marriage. I believe she is frightened todeath when she lets herself stop to think."

  "I blame myself," Scott said heavily.

  "My dear, why?" Isabel's hand sought and held his. "How could you be toblame?"

  "I forced it on," he said. "I--in a way--compelled Eustace to propose. Hewasn't serious till then. I made him serious."

  "Oh, Stumpy, you!" Incredulity and reproach mingled in Isabel's tone.

  She would have withdrawn her hand, but his fingers closed upon it. "Imade a mistake," he said, with dreary conviction, "a great mistake,though God knows I meant well; and now it is out of my power to set itright. I thought her heart was involved. I know now it was not. It's hardon him too in a way, because he is very much in earnest now, whatever hewas before. I was a fool--I was a fool--not to let things take theircourse. She would have suffered, but it would have been soon over.Whereas now--" He stopped himself abruptly. "It's no good talking.There's nothing to be done. He may--after marriage--break her in toloving him, but if he does--if he does--" his hand clenched with suddenforce upon Isabel's--"it won't be Dinah any more," he said. "It'llbe--another woman; one who is satisfied with--a very little."

  His hand relaxed as suddenly as it had closed. He lay still with a facelike marble.

  Isabel sat motionless by his side for several seconds. She was gazingstraight before her with eyes that seemed to read the future.

  "How did you compel him to propose?" she asked presently.

  He shrugged his narrow shoulders slightly. "I can do these things,Isabel, if I try. But I wish I'd killed myself now before I interfered.As I tell you, I was a fool--a fool."

  He ceased to speak and sat in the silence of a great despair.

  Isabel said nought to comfort him. Her tragic eyes still seemed to begazing into the future.

  After many minutes Scott turned his head and looked at her. "Isabel, Iwish you would try to keep her with you as much as possible. Tell Eustacewhat you have just told me! There is certainly no time to lose if she isreally to be married in three weeks from now!"

  "I suppose he would never consent to put it off," Isabel said slowly.

  "He certainly would not." Scott rose with a restless movement that saidmore than words. "He is on fire for her. Can't you see it? There isnothing to be done unless she herself wishes to be released. And I don'tthink that is very likely to happen."

  "He would never give her up," Isabel said with conviction.

  "If she desired it, he would," Scott's reply held an even more absolutefinality.

  Isabel looked at him for a moment; then: "Yes, but the poor little thingwould never dare," she said. "Besides--besides--there is the glamour ofit all."

  "Yes, there is the glamour." Scott spoke with a kind of grim compassion."The glamour may carry her through. If so, then--possibly--it may softenlife for her afterwards. It may even turn into romance. Who knows?But--in any case--there will probably be--compensations."

  "Ah!" Isabel said. A wonderful light shone for a moment in her eyes anddied; she turned her face aside. "Compensations don't come to everyone,Stumpy," she said. "What if the glamour fades and they don't come to takeits place?"

  Scott was standing before the fire, his eyes fixed upon its red depths.His shoulders were still bent, as though they bore a burden well-nighoverwhelming. An odd little spasm went over his face at her words.

  "Then--God help my Dinah!" he said almost under his breath.

  In the silence that followed the words, Isabel rose impulsively, came tohim, and slipped her hand through his arm.

  She neither looked at him nor spoke, and in silence the matter passed.