The Coast of Chance

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The Coast of Chance Page 9

by Esther Chamberlain and Lucia Chamberlain


  IX

  ILLUMINATION

  Just when the two ideas had coalesced in her mind Flora couldn't besure. It had been some time in the first dark hour that she had spentwide awake in her bed. There had been two ideas distinctly. Twoimpressions of the evening remained with her; and the last one, thegreat figures that had stared at her from the paper, the fact that hadbeen Harry's secret, made common now in round numbers, had for themoment swallowed up the first.

  For all the way home that sum was kept before her by Clara's talk. Shecould remember nothing of that talk except that it hadn't been able fora moment to leave the Chatworth ring alone. It had been aimed at Harry,but it had fallen to Flora herself to answer Clara's quickspeculations, for Harry had been obstinately silent, though notindifferent, as if in his own mind he was as unable to leave it alone asClara. One with his silence, one with her talk, they had written thefigures of the reward so blazingly in Flora's mind that for the momentshe could see nothing else. Yet now she was alone her first adventurerecurred to her. As soon as she was quiet in the dark there came backwith reminiscent terror the look that Kerr had given her in the box. Shewasn't really afraid of Kerr himself. She was afraid of the meaning ofhis look which she didn't understand. It only established in her mind agreat significance for the sapphire, if it could produce such anexpression on a human face. It had given him more than a mereexpression. It had given him an impulse for pursuit, as if, like amagnet, it was fairly dragging him. He had covered his impulse by hisvery frankness, but she knew he had pursued her--that for the matter ofseeing her again he had hunted her down. And what had followed that?Why, she was back again to the great figures in the paper.

  At first it seemed as though she had taken a clean leap from one subjectto another. She had in no way connected them. But all at once they wereconnected. She couldn't separate them. She didn't know whether she hadbeen stupid not to have seen them so before, or whether she was stupidto see them so now. For the thought that had sprung up in her mind wasmonstrous. It startled her so broad awake that she sat up in bed to meetit the more alertly. She sat up trembling. She felt like one who haswalked a long way in a wood, hearing crafty footsteps following in thebushes. And now the beast had sprung out, and she was panting,terrified, not knowing which way to run.

  The room was dark except for now and again the yellow square of light,from some passing cable car, traveling along the ceiling. The four wallsaround her, their dark bulks of furniture and light ripple of movingcurtains, shut her up with this monster of her mind. The longer shelooked at it the less she felt sure it was real, and yet it was beforeher. It was there with none of the loveliness of her first fancies aboutthe ring. It was there with grisly reality. It had not been conjured up.It had sprung upon her from the solid actualities of the night. And,yes, of the day before--and the night before that. Oh, she had knownwell enough that there had been something wrong at the goldsmith's shop.She had felt it even before she had seen the sapphire; and afterward howit had held them, both herself and Harry! To have moved Harry it must besomething indeed! Had he suspected it then, or had he only wondered?

  If he had suspected why hadn't he spoken of it? Well, her appallingfancy prompted, hadn't he spoken of it?--though not to her. Thereflashed back to her the memory of him there in the back of the shop withthe blue-eyed Chinaman. How furiously he had assailed the little man!How uneasily, with what a dissatisfied air he had looked at the ringeven after it was on her finger, as if, after all, he had not compassedwhat he had wanted. She could be almost sure that the monstrous ideawhich had just overtaken her had, however fleetingly, flashed beforeHarry's mind in the goldsmith's shop. But surely he couldn't haveentertained it for a moment. That was impossible, or he would never havelet her take the sapphire--Harry, who had seen the ring, the very CrewIdol itself, within the twenty-four hours.

  "A little heathen god curled round himself with a big blue stone on thetop-of his head." Harry hadn't said what sort of stone it was; but Kerrhad said it was a sapphire. There was a sapphire on her hand now. Shetouched it with her finger-tips cautiously, as if to touch somethinghot. So near to her! In the same room with her! On her own hand! It wastoo much to be alone with in the dark! She reached out softly, as if shefeared to disturb some threatening presence lurking around her, and litthe small night lamp on the low table by her bed. The shade was yellow,and that contended with the blue of the sapphire, but couldn't breakits light. With the first flash of its splendor in her face she feltcertainty threatening her. She shook the ring quickly off her finger andit fell with a light clatter on the table's marble top--fell with thesapphire face down, and all its light hidden. She took it up again alittle fearfully, as if it might have got some harm; and again while shelooked at it it seemed to her that nothing that happened about thisjewel could be too extraordinary. If only it had been less wonderful,less beautiful, she would not have felt so terribly afraid! She put itback on the table and for a moment held her hand over it, as if sheimprisoned a living thing.

  Then, without looking again, she got out of bed and went to the window.It overlooked the dark steep of the garden, the moving trees and thelighter plane of the water. She leaned out, far out. Black housetopsmarched against the bay, and between them, light by light, her eyesfollowed the street-lamps down to the shore. If one could recover fromsuch a nightmare as she had it would be by leaning out into and facingthis wide soft dark. These shapeless roofs just below her the night mademysterious; and yet they covered people that she knew--herfriends--kind, safe people! There had been nights when the city, throughthis very window, had seemed to her a savage place; but now the wickedfear that stood behind her--the fear that had got inside her house, thathad slipped unseen through the circle of friends, that stood behind hernow, filling her own room with its shadowy menace--had transformed thecity into a very haven of security.

  Oh, to escape out of this window into the innocent, sleeping city, awayfrom the horror at her back! To look in from the outside and be evensure there was a horror! And if there was, to run away into the widesoft dark! But how did she know, her fantastic idea persisted, that thesapphire wouldn't follow her--the sapphire itself--the embodiment of herfear? Then she dared not be driven out.

  But there was another way to be rid of it. The real idea occurred toher. How easy it would be to take it--that beautiful thing--and throwit; throw it as hard as she could, and let the night take care of it.The window was open, as if it stood ready, and there was the ring on thetable. She went to it, looked at it a moment without touching it,holding her hands away.

  Then with a little shiver she backed away from it and sat down on thefoot of the bed. She looked pale and little, as if the eye of the ring,blazing under the feeble lamp, like the evil eye, had sapped her fireand youth. The only thing about her of any size and color was the heavybraid of hair fallen over her shoulder. She hugged her arms around herupdrawn knees, and resting her chin upon them eyed the sapphire bravely.

  "What shall I do with you?" she somberly inquired of it. "You are adreadful thing. I don't know where you came from nor what you are, but Iam afraid--I am afraid you are--" She hesitated. The sapphire layshining like some idol set up for worship, and in spite of herself itsbeauty moved her, if not to worship, at least to awe and fear.

  "I suppose you know I can't throw you away," she murmured, "and yet Ican't keep you!" She pondered, chin in hand. To take it to Harry! Thatseemed the natural thing to do--the simplest way to be rid of it. Shehesitated.

  "If I only _knew_! If I only were sure!" She locked her fingers closer,staring hard. If it had been the whole Crew Idol, the undismembered godhimself, then there would have been less terror, and one plain thing todo. She looked hard at the sapphire setting, as if she hoped to discoverupon its brilliance some tell-tale trace of old soft gold; but there wasonly one great, glassy, polished eye, and out of what head it had come,whether from the forehead of the Crew Idol, or from that of someunheralded deity, who was there who could tell her?

  She tried to summon a
coherent thought, but again it was only a flashout of the darkness.

  "Kerr! Why, he knows more than I." She looked at this stupidly for amoment as if it were too large to take in at once. Of course he musthave known! Why hadn't she thought of that before? Why hadn't shethought of it that first moment, when he had turned on her in the boxwith such terrible eyes? She drew in her shoulders, looking all aroundat the dim corners of the room which the lamp flame failed to penetrate.Behind her present lively fear a second shadow was growing, more dim,more formless, more vast and dubious.

  What series of circumstances might have led up to Kerr's knowledge shecould not dream. He was one of whom nothing was incredible. From thefirst moment his face had shot into the light, from the moment she hadheard his voice, like color in the level voices around him, she had beenbewildered by his variety. He had caught her up to the clouds. He hadwhirled her along dubious levels, and more than once he had shown herthat the lines she had supposed drawn so sharply between this and thatcould no more be discerned than meridians on green earth.

  If she had noticed any earnestness in him, it was his relish, his gustofor the whole of life. He had no theory to set up. Just as it was hetook it. If he persisted in requiring people to be themselves it was forno good to themselves, but for the pleasure he himself got out of it. Ifhe made society into a little ball, and threw it away, it was only toshow it could be done.

  And where, she asked herself in a summing up, might such a man not befound? But there were few places, indeed, in even the broadest plain ofpossibility, which could hold knowledge of so particular and piercing aquality as his look had implied. There had been so much more thancuriosity or surprise in it. She could hardly face the memory of it, socruelly it had struck her. There was no doubt in her mind that Kerr hadseen the ring. Somewhere in the pageant of his experience he had met it,known it--but what he wanted of it--

  She broke off that thought, and looked long at the little flame of thelamp. It was strange, but there was no doubt in her mind but that hewanted it. That had been the strongest thing in his look. She feltherself picking her way along a very narrow path, one step over eitheredge of which would plunge her chasms deep. Now she snatched at a frailsapling to save herself. The fact that Kerr knew her stone didn't proveit belonged to the Crew Idol. And if it didn't--if it wasn't the crownof the heathen god, then her whole dreadful supposition fell to pieces.But she hadn't proved it and the simplest way was just to ask Kerr. Herchance for that was the chance he had fought so hard for, the chance oftheir meeting the next day.

  She hadn't wanted that meeting when he had first asked her for it in thebox. She had feared it then, and all the more she feared it now, becausenow she would have to do more than defend herself. She would take theoffensive; she would make the attack, now that she had a question toask. Why should the thought of it frighten her? If this was not the Crewsapphire she would be no worse off than she had been. If it was, hercourse would be clear. It seemed it should be simple, it should be easyto face Kerr with her question; but she was possessed by theapprehension that it would be neither. Would the question she had toask be a safe thing to give him? And if she dared undertake it andshould be overpowered after all--then everything would be lost.

  What the "everything" was she feared to lose would not come clear toher. The only thing that did emerge definitely from the agitation of hermind was the knowledge that this question that had been thrust upon hermade it tenfold more difficult to meet Kerr. And yet, to refuse to meethim now would be as cowardly as throwing the ring out of the window.

 

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