Rebecca's Promise

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Rebecca's Promise Page 20

by Frances R. Sterrett


  CHAPTER XX

  Rebecca Mary's feet were as heavy as lead as she went back to the house,and her heart was far heavier than her feet. Oh, Cousin Susan, CousinSusan, what a tangle you caught Rebecca Mary in when you persuaded herto take out a memory insurance policy!

  It was later than she had thought, but the men had not come up from theshop. Ben told her that they weren't coming, that he had just taken themsomething to eat. He supposed that they would work all night again.

  Rebecca Mary looked at him blankly. She had thought that all she wouldhave to do would be to return to the house and call Richard aside andslip her responsibility from her slim shoulders to his broad back. Shewas so disappointed that she felt almost sick. What should she do?

  "Is Mr. Befort at the shop?" she asked Ben, trying her best to keep hervoice steady and her chin from trembling.

  "Yas'm, he's there with all the rest of 'em. They's gwine to make anight ob it fo' suah. Will you gwine have yo' dinner now, Miss Wyman?It's ready an' it won't be no better fer waitin'."

  Rebecca Mary was so relieved to hear that Frederick Befort was at theshop that her chin stopped trembling. If Frederick Befort was with theother men, with Richard and young Peter and old Peter, he wasn't tryingto get in touch with his confederates, and she could draw a long breath.It didn't seem as if she had had a good breath since she had seen thescraps of paper fall from the old glove.

  "Just a minute, Ben, until I run up and see if Mrs. Simmons feels wellenough to come down."

  "She don't," grumbled Ben. "Ah asted her an' she said Ah was ter brungher up a tray. Folks seems to think Ah hain't got nothin' else ter dobut carry dinner here an' there an' yonder. Three in one night is morethan one nigger's job."

  "I know." Rebecca Mary was as sympathetic as she could be with her mindfull of something so much more important than dinner. "But perhaps itwon't happen again. You might serve Mrs. Simmons first. She didn't eatany luncheon, and she must be hungry."

  As Rebecca Mary's leaden feet carried her up the stairs she wondered ifshe should tell Granny and show her the proof of her story which was inthe bandbox in her closet. But as soon as she saw Granny in a thinlavender negligee on the _chaise longue_ she decided that she wouldn'ttell her. Granny couldn't do anything, and she had enough to botherabout. Indeed, Granny did look pale and tired from spending her day withthe headache. She held out a welcoming hand when Rebecca Mary came in.

  "Where have you been all afternoon? I thought you were lost."

  "Have you missed me?" Rebecca Mary stooped to kiss the pale cheek. "Youwere so sound asleep when I looked in that I thought you wouldn't beawake for hours. I'm a brute that I didn't come in again."

  "I really haven't been awake very long," Granny admitted when she heardhow repentant Rebecca Mary was. "I do wish I were home, Rebecca Mary. Itwas so silly to run away as we did. I might have known something wouldhappen. I'd give anything if we could be back in Waloo before old PeterSimmons. I shan't mind his teasing so much at home. I shan't feel quiteso foolish there. A woman can't stand up to her husband as well as sheshould if she feels foolish. I don't suppose there is any way we couldslip out?" she asked wistfully.

  No, Rebecca Mary didn't think there was any way, and even if there hadbeen she couldn't take it until she had told her story to Richard andshowed him the scraps of paper. But she would not tell Granny that; shecould only kiss Granny again and pet her and tell her that Richard hadsaid that they would be free soon to go where they pleased.

  She told Granny also what old Peter Simmons had said, that he had provedthe decision he had made on his wedding day, that his wife had perfectedhis life. She made a very pretty speech of it, and it pleased Grannyenormously.

  "He always did have a nimble tongue," she murmured. "And he really doeshave a lot of patience with me. Here is Ben with my dinner. I hope youbrought a lot, Ben. You know I didn't have any luncheon."

  "Yas'm. Ah hopes you gwine ter like the lower half of this springchicken, Mrs. Simmons? When Ah took the dinner out ter the shop Mr.Simmons, he sez what you gwine give Mrs. Simmons fer her dinner? An'when Ah done tell him spring chicken he sez ter brung you de lower half'cause you gwine ter like de dark meat better'n you do de white."

  "He did?" Granny was surprised. "Well! well! So he does know what Ilike. Rebecca Mary, why do you suppose he always asks me? Perhaps he hasremembered other things, too. Didn't I tell you he was a great tease?Run down to your own dinner, child. I shall do very well. And you andJoan must be hungry."

  Rebecca Mary had never felt less hungry in her life but she obedientlyran down. She thought she wouldn't eat a mouthful until she saw thearray of good things which Ben had prepared when she suddenly discoveredthat she was hungry. Nothing would be gained by starving herself, shethought, as she patted Joan's shoulder.

  "We shall serve ourselves," she told Ben. "And will you please go overto the shop and ask Mr. Cabot if I may speak to him at once?"

  "Ah dunno as Ah dares. Old Mr. Simmons said he didn't want ter see anyone 'thin gunshot ob dat shop ter night. Maybe Ah could stand away an'holler," he suggested helpfully.

  "Never mind then." Rebecca Mary spoke as carelessly as she could."Perhaps he'll be up before long."

  "If you ast me Ah'd say they won't be along 'fo' sunrise. Ah'm to take'em another meal at midnight. That 'speriment suah makes 'em hungry."

  "You can tell Mr. Cabot then that I should like to speak to him atonce." Midnight was better than nothing, than morning.

  "Yas'm. Maybe Ah can. Ah can try."

  "Do you want to tell we why you want to talk to Mr. Cabot?" asked Joancuriously. "You haven't talked to me very much since we came to dinner."

  "I think I must be tired. Suppose you talk to me? What did Mrs. Ericksonsay when you took the kitten back?" It was a safe question for Mrs.Erickson was sure to say considerable. Joan repeated Mrs. Erickson'swords and added enough of her own to last through dinner. She caughtRebecca Mary's hand as they rose from the table.

  "Shall we go and play ball, Miss Wyman? I have a new tennis ball Iborrowed from Mr. Marshall."

  Ball! Rebecca Mary never wanted to see another ball in her life. Therehad been one ball too many in it as it was. She forced herself to smileat Joan. "I must go up to Granny, honey," she said slowly. "She has beenalone all day. You will have to play by yourself. If Mr. Cabot comes upfrom the shop, or Mr. Peter, or even old Mr. Simmons, will you call me,please?"

  She stood in the doorway and looked across the lawn in the direction ofthe shop. The chatter of the gasoline engine came to her faintly,puff-puff. She wondered if she should run across and call to Richardherself, and she decided that she had better wait. She must do nothingto make Frederick Befort suspect that she knew why he was at Riverside.

  When at last she went upstairs she found that Granny was not inclinedfor conversation.

  "If you'll hand me that book, Rebecca Mary, I'll finish it. There is asilly little heroine in it who can't make up her mind which of three menshe loves."

  "Do you think it is always easy for a girl to know what to do?" RebeccaMary asked wistfully. Rebecca Mary was almost overwhelmed at the numberof things she had discovered that a girl should know.

  Granny began a rather scornful speech but as she looked at RebeccaMary's troubled little face she changed it for a more sympathetic one.

  "No, I don't. I think it's very hard sometimes for every one, for evenan old lady, to know what is best to do. But if you were in a book,Rebecca Mary, it would be easy. All you would have to do would be towait for your knight of the four-leaf clover," she laughed.

  "Oh, that!" Rebecca Mary had lost all pleasure in her mysterioustalisman; it had brought her all at once such a huge amount of bad luck."But how am I going to find him?" she asked impatiently. "It's weekssince that day at the Waloo, and I don't know any more than I did then."

  "Don't you?" Granny raised quizzical eyebrows.

  "Well, not much." Rebecca Mary didn't wish to talk of clover leaves, butit would be easier to follow Granny's lead t
han to offer one of her own.If she talked of what was really in her thoughts she would frightenGranny into hysterics. "I know that Peter and Mr. Cabot were there thatafternoon and Wallie Marshall and George Barton. Even old MajorMartingale was there eating hot buttered toast, but I can't make one ofthem say that he gave me that clover leaf. You don't think it was MajorMartingale, do you?" Rebecca Mary would rather never know the truth iffat old Major Martingale had given her the talisman.

  Granny chuckled. "Ask him, Rebecca Mary. Run along and ask him. You aresillier than this silly heroine."

  Rebecca Mary never passed such an evening in her life. It was long,endlessly long, and dreary and lonely, for Joan went to bed and Grannyinsisted on following the adventures of her silly heroine. Rebecca Marythought she would go mad as she stood on the terrace and listened to thechattering gasoline engine or raced up the stairs to see if the bandboxwas still on the top shelf of her closet.

  At last she couldn't wait another minute. She didn't care what old PeterSimmons had told Ben. She would go within gunshot of the shop and callto--she wasn't sure yet whether she would call for Frederick Befort andbeg him to turn over a new leaf and be loyal to the men with whom he wasworking, or to Richard and tell him the suspicion which was tormentingher. She couldn't go to bed until she had told some one. She calledherself names because she hadn't gone to the shop at once.

  Ben had forgotten to turn on the lights and the hall stretched beforeher as dark as Egypt. She felt as if she were making her way through alength of black velvet as she went down the stairs. But as she turned torun out of the side door, which was the shortest way to the shop, shesaw a thread of light. It came from the right, from the room MajorMartingale used as an office. The door was always kept locked, but nowit was ajar.

  Through the wide crack Rebecca Mary could see a light on the desk besidewhich a man was standing as he fumbled among the Major's papers. He wastoo tall and not wide enough to be Major Martingale, and even before heturned so that the light fell on his face Rebecca Mary knew who he was.

  Quickly, without taking even a second to think, Rebecca Mary pulled thedoor shut. The key was in the lock, on the outside, and she turned it.Then she leaned against the door frightened to death and ready to cry.

 

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