Dawn
Page 67
CHAPTER LVIII
Arthur took the same path by which he had come--all paths were aliketo him now--but before he had gone ten yards he saw the figure ofGeorge Caresfoot, who appeared to have been watching him. In George'shand was a riding-whip, for he had ridden from the scene of the fire,and was all begrimed with smoke and dirt. But this Arthur did notnotice.
"Hullo," he began; "what----" and then he hesitated; there was a lookin Arthur's eyes which he did not like.
But, if George hesitated, Arthur did not. He sprang at him like a wildcat, and in a second had him by the throat and shoulder. For a momenthe held him there, for in his state of compressed fury George was likea child in his hands. And as he held him a fierce and almostuncontrollable desire took possession of him to kill this man, tothrow him down and stamp the life out of him. He conquered it,however, and loosed the grip on his throat.
"Let me go," shrieked George, as soon as he could get breath.
Arthur cut short his clamours by again compressing his wind-pipe.
"Listen," he said; "a second ago I was very near killing you, but Iremember now that, after all, it is she, not you, who are chiefly toblame. You only followed your brutal nature, and nothing else can beexpected of a brute. Very likely you put pressure on her, like the cadthat you are, but that does not excuse her, for, if she could notresist pressure, she is a fool in addition to being what she is. Ilook at you and think that soon _she_ will come down to _your_ level,the level of my successful rival. To be mated to a man like you woulddrag an angel down. That will be punishment enough. Now go, you cur!"
He swung him violently from him. His fall was broken by a bramble-bush. It was not exactly a bed of roses, but George thought it saferto lie there till his assailant's footsteps had grown faint--he didnot wish to bring him back again. Then he crept out of the bushsmarting all over. Indeed, his frame of mind was altogether not of themost amiable. To begin with, he had just seen his house--which, asluck would have it, was the only thing he had not sold to Philip, andwhich was also at the moment uninsured, owing to the confusion arisingfrom the transfer of the property--entirely burnt down. All itsvaluable contents too, including a fine collection of pictures andprivate papers he by no means wished to lose, were irretrievablydestroyed.
Nor was his mood improved by the recollection of the events of theprevious night, or by the episode of the bramble-bush, illuminated asit was by Arthur's vigorous language; or by what he had justwitnessed, for he had arrived in time to see, though from a distance,the last act of the interview between Arthur and Angela.
He had seen him lift her in his arms, kiss her, and place her on thestone seat, but he did not know that she had fainted. The sight hadroused his evil passions until they raged like the fire he had left.Then Arthur came out upon him and he made acquaintance with thebramble-bush as already described. But he was not going to be cheatedout of his revenge; the woman was still left for him to wreak it on.
By the time he reached Angela, her faculties were reawakening; but,though insensibility had yielded, sense had not returned. She sat uponthe stone seat, upright indeed, but rigid and grasping its angles withher hands. The dog had gone. In the undecided way common to dogs, whentwo people to whom they are equally attached separate, it had at thatmoment taken it into its head to run a little way after Arthur.
George marched straight up to her, livid with fury.
"So this is how you go on when your husband is away, is it? I saw youkissing that young blackguard, though I am not good enough for you.What, won't you answer? Then it is time that I taught you obedience."
"Swish!" went the heavy whip through the air, and fell across her faircheek.
"Will that wake you, eh, or must I repeat the dose?"
The pain of the blow seemed to rouse her. She rose, her loosed hairfalling round her like a golden fleece, and a broad blue stripe acrossher ghastly face. She stretched out her hands; she opened her greateyes, and in them blazed the awful light of madness.
He was standing, whip in hand, with his back to the lake; she facedhim, a breathing, beautiful vengeance, and in a whisper so intensethat the air was full of it, commenced a rambling prayer.
"Oh, God," she said, "bless my dear Arthur! Oh, Almighty Father,avenge our wrongs!"
She paused and fixed her eyes upon him, and they held him so that hecould not stir. Then, in strange contrast to the hissing whisper,there broke from her lips a ringing and unearthly laugh that chilledhim to the marrow. So they stood for some seconds.
The sound of angry voices had brought the bulldog back at full speed,and, at the sight of George's threatening attitude, it halted. It hadalways hated him, and now it straightway grew more like a devil than adog. The innate fierceness of the great brute awoke; it bristled withfury till each separate hair stood out in knots against the skin, andsaliva ran from its twitching jaws.
George did not know that it was near him, but Angela's wild eye fellupon it. Slowly raising her hand, she pointed at it.
"Look behind you," she cried.
The sound of her voice broke the spell that was upon him.
"Come, give me no more of your nonsense," he said, and then, as muchfrom vague fear and rampant brutality as from any other reason, againstruck her with the whip.
Next second he was aware of a tremendous shock. The dog had seen theblow, and had instantly launched itself, with all the blind courage ofits race, straight at the striker's throat. It missed its aim,however, only carrying away a portion of George's under-lip. He yelledwith pain, and struck at it with the whip, and then began a scenewhich, in its grotesque horror, beggars all description. Again andagain the dog flew at him, its perfect silence contrasting strangelywith George's shrieks of terror, and the shrill peals of horriblelaughter that came hurrying from Angela's lips as she watched thestruggle.
At last the dog gripped the man by the forearm, and, sinking its greatteeth into the flesh, hung its weight upon it. In vain did George,maddened by the exquisite pain, dash himself and the dog against theground: in vain did he stagger round and round the glen, tearing atits throat with his uninjured hand. The brute hung grimly on.Presently there came an end. As he reeled along, howling for help anddragging his fierce burden with him, George stumbled over a dead boughwhich lay upon the bank of the lake, and fell backwards into thewater, exactly at the spot where the foundations of the old boat-housewall rose to within a few inches of the surface. His head struckheavily against the stonework, and he and the dog, who would not loosehis grip, lay on it for a moment, then they rolled off together intothe deep pool, the man dragging the dog with him. There were a fewripples, stained with little red filaments, a few air-bubbles thatmarked the exhalation of his last breath, and George's spirit had leftits enclosing body, and gone--whither? Ay, reader, whither had itgone?