CHAPTER XI.
At length all was done--the raft finished, all the goods and chattelsbelonging to the ill-assorted pair placed upon it, and they fullyprepared for their voyage.
It was past noon when they found themselves in this state of readiness,and the question was raised whether it would not be the wiser plan toremain where they were until morning, and begin the journey with thenew day.
Kindly offers of hospitable entertainment were made by more than oneneighbor, but Mr. Himes refused to consent to the least delay. Theycould travel several miles before sundown, he said, and it would bejust so much gained.
This suited the conspirators exactly. McManus had been engaged toassist in propelling the raft; he would see that it was moored for thenight at a spot which they had selected as well fitted to be the sceneof their intended crime--a lonely and secluded place some six or sevenmiles down the river.
Belinda stumbled in stepping aboard, and had nearly fallen into thewater.
"The very awkwardest critter I ever see!" was the sneering remark ofher husband, as he caught her by the arm and saved her from a wetting.
Phelim, standing near, muttered a curse under his breath, but the womanbore the rebuke in silence. A vision of her reprover lying there stiffand stark, with fast glazing eyes and gray hairs all dabbled in blood,seemed to come before her, and she had no heart to resent hisunkindness--could scarce refrain even now from shrieking out to him tobeware of these men, for they were seeking his life.
She sat pale and trembling while they loosed from the shore and droppedslowly down the stream, McManus laughing and exchanging coarse jestswith his intended victim, while his two accomplices waved their hats,cheered the departing voyagers, and shouting good-bye, turned andwalked rapidly away in the direction of the highroad.
Belinda followed them with her eyes till distance and intervening treesshut out the sight; then, utterly oblivious of everything but her ownguilty, miserable thoughts and fears, dropped her face into her handswith a shudder and a sigh that was half a moan.
"Frettin' arter that there handsome young Irishman, be ye, eh?" sneeredHimes's voice close at her side. "Well, ye needn't; ye won't never seehim no more. I begun to suspect, this last day or two, that ye had mosttoo big a likin' fer each other, and I'll look out that he don't gitnear ye again."
She made no reply, nor even lifted her head; and after regarding her amoment with silent scorn, he walked away to the other side of the raft.
Subsequently he twitted her several times on her excessive pallor, hersilence and abstraction, attributing them to the fright of her narrowescape from falling into the river, and telling her she was an arrantcoward, even for a woman.
"Oh, do let me alone!" she said at length, wearily. "You seemdetermined to make me hate the very sight of you, the very sound ofyour voice."
"And what do I care if you do?" he returned, with a mocking laugh; "youcan't get away from me, and I ain't afeard o' you."
"Go away! go away!" she cried, covering her ears with her hands andturning her back upon him, while she shuddered from head to foot andher face grew ghastly in the dim light, for the sun had set anddarkness was slowly creeping over the earth.
He lighted his pipe, turned from her with an air of supremeindifference, and passing around to the farther side of the rude cabin,which occupied the centre of the raft, sat down for the smoke withwhich he was accustomed to finish the day, little dreaming that itmight be his last.
She sat where he had left her, with her elbows on her knees, her facein her hands, her mind in a tumult of horror, fear, and remorse,mingled with an intense hatred and disgust toward him, the man to whosedestiny she had voluntarily linked her own for life.
But she could not contemplate without a shudder the cruel fate awaitinghim. "Why should he be slain?" she asked herself. Phelim wanted her andthe money; let him take both and carry them away, but spare the oldman's life--spare himself the staining of his hands with innocentblood. The crime would be great enough without that.
The raft was now moored to the shore. She lifted her head. How quieteverything was! not a sound to break the almost oppressive stillnesssave the slight ripple of the water at her feet, and the evening songof the frogs. There was not a house, road, fence, or any other sign ofman's occupancy within sight, but on the top of a slope not far away asolitary figure stood out in relief against the sky for a singleinstant, then vanished. They were there waiting for--what? To murder aninnocent old man in his sleep, and possess themselves of hishard-earned savings.
Some one drew cautiously near and touched her on the shoulder.
"The byes is there," whispered McManus, "an' ye mustn't be aftherbetrayin' us. I was feart more'n oncet yer white face an' shakin' handsud give 'im warnin'. Ye know we ain't a goin' to harrum ye--no, niver abit av it. He thrates ye loike a brute baste, he does, the raskil; butPhalim ull be good till ye, an' mak' ye a rich lady wan o' these days.I'm a goin' to lie down and slape a bit, an' ye'd betther thry thesame, fer they'll not be comin' till toward mornin', whan folks slapesthe soundest. Ye'll moind ye don't do nothin' to rouse the ould man'ssuspicions!"
"I hate him! You may trust me," she answered, in low, husky tones,without lifting her head or looking round.
He went away, and again she was left to the companionship of her ownthoughts. Conscience was loud in its upbraidings. What was she doing?What would be the end of all this? Even should she escape the stronghand of the law, would not the spectre of the old man with his graylocks all dabbled in blood haunt her all her life?
And he had been good to her once--before she alienated his affectionsby her slatternly, careless ways and indifference to his comfort.
She could not look upon his death; she must make an effort to save him,but without betraying his would-be assassins. She rose and crept aroundto the place where he sat. She crouched at his side.
"Don't let us stay here to-night," she said, in a hoarse whisper; "letus go ashore and get lodging in some house. You have money, and thoseburglars may have got a hint of it; they always do find out somehow,and they may come on us in the night and--"
He interrupted her. "There! I knowed ye was a coward; but I'm not. Let'em come. I'm ready for 'em."
She drew away from him in discouragement and disgust. Where was the useof trying to save so besotted a fool--one who seemed bent on his owndestruction? If he perished that night by the hand of violence, itwould not be her fault. She had done all she could; for any furthereffort, any plainer speech would expose herself to suspicion andviolence from him.
She went back to her former station on the other side of the raft, andresuming the old posture, with her elbows on her knees and her face inher hands, tried to steel herself to the coming fate of the man who wasso persistently abusive to her.
But in vain; it was too horrible; and she could not forget that she hadconsented to it. Yet what more could she do? Ah! could she herself robhim before the burglars came, and steal away with the money to Phelim,he surely would consent to run away with her and it, and leave the olddotard his life. Surely it would be much the better plan for all; buthow to accomplish it? for Himes had his money in a belt which he woreday and night about his waist.
He had finished his pipe, and she heard him retire to the cabin. Whenshe thought sufficient time had elapsed for him to be sound asleep shecrept softly in and stretched herself by his side--for the last time!Oh, what an awaking his would be! She could not sleep; her heart beatalmost to suffocation, and she trembled like an aspen leaf.
At length, when his perfect stillness and regular breathing seemed tospeak of profound slumber, she cautiously put out her hand and touchedthe belt.
He started up instantly, asking, with an oath, "What's that fer? whatare ye after? would ye dare to rob me?"
"No; why should I? ain't I your wife?" she asked, bitterly. "But I wantyou to take it off and hide it somewhere. You'd better lose yer moneythan it and yer life too. If they come they'll have it at all costs;and i
f it's on you, they'll kill you to get it."
"'Twon't be no great loss to you if they do; you'd like to be a gayyoung widder--you needn't deny it," he said, with a sneer. "I'll reskit, anyhow; and don't you touch my belt agin."
It was her last effort to save him. Oh, how long the hours seemed whileshe waited! yet how gladly she would have detained them in theirflight, that thus the coming of the dreaded event might be retarded.
She had at last fallen into a doze when a hand touched her, andPhelim's voice whispered in her ear, "Go! lave the ould divil to us;we'll take care o' 'im. Run an' give the alarum, but don't ye be in toobig a hurry."
She was on her feet before he had finished his sentence. Himes, too,had roused and started up. She heard the two grapple with oaths andcurses as she dashed out of the cabin through the midst of a group ofdark forms that stepped aside to let her pass, and sprang ashore.
She ran a few paces, then paused for breath, pressing her hand upon herwildly beating heart. Her husband's voice came to her in an agonizedshriek: "Help! help! murder! murder!" with it the sharp report of apistol, and echoing the cry, she sped onward, fear, horror, and remorsequickening her flight.
The Tragedy of Wild River Valley Page 11