Sound of the Trumpet

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Sound of the Trumpet Page 5

by Grace Livingston Hill


  “I certainly do not think so, my dear. You were perfectly right. I was deeply offended for you myself. I was outraged at him! I felt he was fairly insulting. But, my dear, I blame myself for not having seen this coming and saved you from the experience this afternoon.”

  “No, Mother, you mustn’t blame yourself. I should have told you before. Though those things that made me so indignant before were nothing to what he said this afternoon. Is marriage like that, Mother, just a sort of commercial arrangement? Mother, Daddy wasn’t like that with you, was he? I’m sure he wasn’t. He didn’t just tell you you had to marry him at a certain time, not even asking you if you wanted to. Men can’t do that, can they? Because if they can, I will never, never get married. Not even if I thought I loved a man would I just walk after him when he said I had to. Would you, Mother?”

  There were tears in her eyes and voice now, and she was almost on the verge of breaking down again.

  “Why of course not, dear. That is not true marriage. There is no real marriage where there is not love, and true love does not order the beloved one. A joyful marriage can only be where there is real love and tender courtship, and a real lover would never force his attentions on one. I cannot think that Victor understands, or that he is really grown up. His whole performance this afternoon was like a selfish, willful child.”

  “But, Mother, I think he believes that is the modern way, and that you and I are old-fashioned. That is what makes it all so hopeless. Not hopeless either, Mother, for I do not feel it matters very much if he is like that. Oh, he is an old friend, I know, and one hates to lose the companion of one’s childhood. But he isn’t important to me, really, anymore.”

  “Are you sure, my dear? Oh, I would be so glad if I could be certain that that is true! For nothing that I can think of would seem more terrible to me than to have you married to a young man with such standards. Or brokenhearted because he had turned out to be what he evidently has become. I used to be so glad that you had a boyfriend like Victor Vandingham, but now I am greatly thankful we have discovered what he is before it is forever too late! Oh, my dear!”

  “Well, now Emi—I beg your pardon, Mother Kingsley—just what fault do you have to find with me? What’s the matter with me that you’re making such a scene about? You certainly put on a dramatic act in the tearoom. I didn’t know either of you were capable of that. I thought you were too well bred.”

  It was Victor Vandingham’s voice that drawled into the conversation lazily. They had not heard him coming. He had just walked into the house, much as he used to do in the old days when he was a mere child, listened a moment to locate the low voices he could hear, and then walked straight to the library door. The door had opened stealthily, and he stood just behind Mrs. Kingsley’s chair before he spoke. Then he calmly stalked over to an unoccupied chair near the fire and slumped down into it gracefully, his hat in his hand swinging carelessly, very nonchalantly, and he looked from the mother to the daughter and back again.

  “Well, really!” said Mrs. Kingsley, springing to her feet, her pleasant eyes fairly snapping with indignation, her whole body expressing dignity and utter outrage. “Since when did you start walking into people’s homes and interrupting private conversations? Haven’t you humiliated us enough today without this? Of course, in your childhood days, when you were a friend of the family, you had the privilege of walking in unannounced, but I consider that by your conversation this afternoon you forfeited that right. I certainly am disappointed in you, Victor, and—ashamed of you!”

  “Now what did I do, I ask you? Didn’t I ask your daughter to marry me? What is humiliating about that?”

  “You announced to my daughter that you were going to marry her,” said Mrs. Kingsley. “That was not the way an offer of marriage is usually made. Especially between young people who have seen very little of each other for nearly four years and who are both rather young to be even considering marriage at present. But even if you were not so young, you certainly know that there are ways of conducting a suit for a girl’s hand that you have entirely ignored. Why would you think any girl would want to marry you with such an invitation? The most primitive savage would know better than that.”

  A wide, devilish grin overspread the handsome face of the boy.

  “Oh, you mean all that antique junk about love? Why, where have you been that you don’t know that that kind of mush is entirely out of date? You’ve known me for years. You know what my family is, and that I am financially able to support your daughter in a style even better than she has been accustomed to all her life. What’s the idea of your giving me the high hat that way? Haven’t I a right to demand certain things of the girl I’ve decided to marry? You’ve kept her down to your own notions so long that she really doesn’t have a mind of her own, and you’ve made her old-fashioned to the extent that she can scarcely hold her own with young people of her age. I say it’s a shame, and I was only trying to be frank and make you understand. But if you can’t see it that way, just call it a joke and let it go at that. I was only joking, and I certainly think you both ought to be able to take a joke. You used to be able to see a joke. What’s become of your sense of humor?”

  “I see no humor in making a joke of sacred things,” said Mrs. Kingsley.

  “The bunk! What’s sacred about what we were talking about, I’d like to know? We weren’t talking about religion.”

  “You were talking about marriage!” said the lady coldly. “It is the most sacred relation on earth. It is the foundation of the family and of all right human relations.”

  “Not anymore,” said the boy importantly. “Not since divorce has become so common, so almost universal. You can’t put over that old stuff about marriage being sacred. I tell you, it’s been clearly demonstrated today that marriage is what you want to make of it, and if the man is the head of the house, it’s his business to order what the marriage will be, see? So it’s up to the man! And I was just showing you that I understand my part in this arrangement.” He grinned affably at them as they sat there speechless, unable to believe their senses that their erstwhile friend could have so changed.

  “And just what have you come here for?” asked the mother haughtily. “I thought when you first came in that you had come to apologize for all your rudeness, but you seem only to be adding more insult to what you have already said.”

  Then the impish grin broke out on the boy’s face once more, an echo of the look he used to wear when he came to tell some joke after school when he was a child.

  “Say, I was just kidding! Can’t you understand? I just came over to say so, and to tell you I really want to take Lisle to that football game. Come on, Lisle, forget it all and let’s have a swell time the way we used to do!”

  “I don’t think that will be possible,” said Lisle with a haughty lift of her pretty chin. “I’m afraid I couldn’t forget some of the awful things you have been saying.”

  “But haven’t I just told you I was only kidding?”

  “Yes,” said the girl, with an understanding look in her young eyes that seemed suddenly to be looking deep into life and knowing many things that had hitherto been hidden. “I know you say you were only kidding, but I don’t believe that! I have known you a good many years, Victor, and I know pretty well when you are telling the truth and when you are only kidding, and I don’t believe that you are entirely amusing yourself by taking us for a ride. I am quite sure that you were trying out a new standard of life which you have recently acquired, and I don’t like it. I don’t want to have anything to do with it, and I won’t hear any more about it. And now if you will excuse me, I have a lesson to prepare for my Red Cross work this evening.”

  Lisle rose and started toward the door, but suddenly Victor sprang to his feet and burst forth in his old impulsive way, walking over to her and grasping her wrists familiarly.

  “Aw, don’t be that way, Lisle! Be a good sport and go with me to that game. I really want you, and I really came after you, and I swear
I’ll make you have a good time. Come on and let me show you I mean it.”

  Lisle drew away from him.

  “No, Victor, I can’t go. I don’t want to go. I’m fed up with this whole subject, and I would much rather stay at home and work.”

  “Aw, now, Lisle. You aren’t going to be a flat tire when I went to all the trouble to get these special tickets just for you. You might try me out just for one hour and let me prove to you that I’m not so black as you have tried to paint me. Come on, Lisle, for the sake of old times, and the days when you and I were pals! I can’t bear to have you this way. It isn’t like you. It isn’t according to your old code. You always were fair with everybody, and you’re not fair with me now when I’ve apologized for my thoughtlessness. I’m only asking another chance to prove to you that I’m the same old guy you used to like. Come on, Lisle! Don’t be a quitter!”

  Lisle looked troubled and drew her hands away.

  “I’m not a quitter, Victor, but it seems to me that you are. You had good standards and principles when we were children, and now you have cast them all aside. I do not like the way you talk.”

  “Say, Lisle, be yourself, and give me another chance to show you. Just one more chance, Lisle! Be a little fair to an old friend!”

  Victor knew how to make his handsome eyes plead, how to use his expressive voice in pretty arguments, how to throw utter sorrow and despair into his mobile face, until one glance his way would make strong argument for him, sowing doubt in the mind whether one had been quite fair to him.

  Lisle turned perplexed eyes toward her mother.

  “Should I, Mother?” she asked.

  Her mother gave a troubled glance toward the boy and then looked at her young daughter with worried eyes.

  “I am sure whatever you decide to do will be right,” she said hesitantly, but there was question in her own voice.

  The boy grew eager.

  “Aw, now Lisle, be your old self. Stick to your old code! Be fair to me just once more!” he pleaded.

  Lisle’s face, though it did not soften, grew decisive.

  “Very well,” she said almost coldly, “I’ll go, this once!”

  “But you can’t go in that dress,” said her mother, rousing. “You’ll have to dress, and it’s getting late.” She glanced at the clock. “Besides, it’s growing colder.”

  “Take your time,” said Victor, settling back in his chair again, with a look of almost defiant triumph in his eyes.

  “I’ll put on my fur coat,” said Lisle. “It’s right here in the hall closet. I won’t be a minute.”

  “That old shabby coat,” complained her mother distressfully as Lisle made a dash across the hall and came back, sliding into her old beaver coat and a little brown felt hat.

  “It’s all right,” said the girl, with a wry smile. “It really doesn’t matter what I wear. Come on, Victor! Let’s get this thing over!”

  “Oh!” said the young man, with an offended grin. “Is that the way you’re taking it? Well, come on! I’ll see it through no matter what odds you give me!”

  And so with unsmiling faces they went away to their test, and the mother went to the window and watched them with troubled eyes. Had she done right to assent to her daughter’s going? Would harm come from it, or would there come a possible reconciliation? And would that be good for her child or ill? She turned away from the window with a sigh after they were out of sight, and in her dignified, conservative way, did what she understood to be right in the way of making a troubled prayer to offset what harm might be done.

  Chapter 4

  John Sargent walked a full block before he realized that there was someone walking in step with him. Long, loose steps, as if they were old friends. Then, as they crossed the next corner and a good many other pedestrians turned away down the side street, the man was still there. John turned and gave him a quick look, taking in the keen eyes, the slouching gait, the assured set of head and shoulders.

  The stranger met his gaze with a steady look and then spoke. “Well, you’ve had a busy day, haven’t you? I been watching you quite a spell off and on. You’re a good worker. Seems like you ought to be able to hold down a better-paying job than the one you were at.”

  “Thanks!” said John, giving him another quick searching glance, but saying no more.

  “You been working for this company long?” asked the stranger, after waiting for a more comprehensive answer to his first remark.

  John gave the man another sharp look.

  “A while,” he answered shortly.

  The man studied him a moment.

  “They pay you pretty well?” he asked insinuatingly.

  “What’s it to you?” John barked out.

  “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” said Kurt Entry apologetically. “I was just thinking a man like you in these times would be worth a good deal of money to the company he worked for, that is, if you always worked as hard as you did today. It’s that reason I asked about wages. Some don’t appreciate how hard a man works and pay as little as possible. I happen to know about a job that pays real money. I wouldn’t wonder you might fit there if you care to apply.”

  “Yes?” said John in a tone of unbelief. “I’ve heard people talk that way before. Then you come to inquire, and it doesn’t turn out to be so much. You hunting for a job?” He looked the man up and down with the air of a contractor searching for laborers.

  “Me? Oh no. I got a job. Pays me good. I just happen to know about this other job. It’s just velvet!” He mentioned an incredibly large sum under his breath.

  “Oh yeah?” said John and gave him another sharp look. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Eh?” said Entry, giving John a surprised look. “What’s wrong with what? The job or the pay?”

  “Both,” said John crisply. “People don’t pay that much to anyone unless there’s something crooked about the work or the place where the money comes from.”

  “Oh!” said Entry, lapsing into a noncommittal attitude. “Well, you see, it’s this way. There’s need, in a certain place I know, for a man who can be trusted. A man who knows how to keep his mouth shut and obey instructions. Being a pretty good judge of human nature, I took you for that kind of man, see?”

  John’s brows drew together in a puzzled expression. He was thinking fast.

  “Is this a government job?” he asked sharply.

  “Well, yes, in a way it is. It’s very important, and that’s the reason they can’t trust every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”

  “I see,” said John, “but the government doesn’t send men out to contact strangers on the street with a proposition like yours. What kind of sucker do you think I am?”

  “You don’t understand me, kid! I just took a liking to you, and I thought you would fall for such a lot of money.”

  “What made you think I would?” said John, his eyes narrowing.

  “Well, I heard you had a grandmother you were taking care of, and I thought you would enjoy having a little real velvet to help with your job.”

  “But you haven’t answered my question yet,” said the boy. “What’s the catch? I know there’s a catch somewhere. I’m not great enough for some man in the government to come after me. Answer the question, and I’ll answer you. What is it they want done that anybody couldn’t do?”

  “Well it isn’t anything great, kid,” said Entry. “Just a little matter of observation and of being able to report on certain things as soon as they’re planned so that other people can keep up with the times. Nothing out of the way at all.”

  “Like what?” asked John, now watching the other man keenly.

  “Oh, just keeping ears and eyes open. Finding dates of shipments, formulas, getting descriptions and measurements. Know anything about photography?”

  John lifted his head.

  “What if I do?” he asked.

  “Well, there’s plenty of dough in knowing how to get a good picture of important things. I know that fer a fact.”

 
; “Meaning what?”

  “Well, I’m not just saying what I mean. Not till you say you’re ready to deal with me. And you don’t need to worry about my commission. All I ask will be a measly little ten percent on what you make.”

  “Oh, so that’s the catch, is it?” said John with a grin.

  “What do you mean? There ain’t any catch. This is straight business.”

  John continued to grin.

  “Ten percent!” he sneered. “Paid in advance, I suppose?”

  “No sir, you don’t pay till you get yours, and that’ll be plenty soon after you deliver the goods, see?”

  “Yes, I see,” said John. “I see your trick, but I’m from Missouri, and I don’t snap at the first drop of the hook. Besides, it was you that brought this up, not I. It sounds fishy to me.”

  “Nothing fishy about it, son. It’s genuine business, if you’re interested.”

  “Well, I’m not interested,” said the lad. “I’m not interested in any rackets of any kind, and this sounds to me about the worst racket I’ve heard yet.”

  “No racket about it, young fella! Just an honest-to-goodness way to make a little easy dough. I thought you looked like a man that could put a thing across in great shape if you just once got it into your head to do it. I sort of took a liking to you when I heard how respectful you spoke to that sour lady that was trying to get a rise out of you, and you wouldn’t rise. I liked that in you, and I says to myself, ‘That’s just the man for that job I heard of, and I’d like to be the one to connect him up with it.’ I sure would. It’s a job I would have taken on myself if I hadn’t been so well suited to the job I’ve already got.”

  Entry gave a sidewise glance toward his victim and smiled his oily smile.

  John turned and faced the man by his side.

  “What is all this about anyway, stranger? Are you an agent for some group or something? And what would this work be I’m supposed to do? Answer me straight! I won’t listen to any more of this hedging business.”

  “Sure, I’ll answer you straight. You wouldn’t have so much to do beyond the ordinary mechanical work in the plant. Just keep your eyes and ears open for what is needed and know how to report it. Just mebbe a picture now and then of something important. Plenty of pay and very little extra work.”

 

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