CHAPTER XVII
_How Bellew began the game_
Now in this life of ours, there be games of many, and divers, sorts, andall are calculated to try the nerve, courage, or skill of the player, asthe case may be. Bellew had played many kinds of games in his day, and,among others, had once been famous as a Eight Tackle on the HarvardEleven. Upon him he yet bore certain scars received upon a memorable daywhen Yale, flushed with success, saw their hitherto invincible line rentand burst asunder, saw a figure torn, bruised, and bleeding, flash outand away down the field to turn defeat into victory, and then to beborne off honourably to hospital, and bed.
If Bellew thought of this, by any chance, as he sat there, staring up atthe moon, it is very sure that, had the choice been given him, he wouldjoyfully have chosen the game of torn flesh, and broken bones, or anyother game, no matter how desperate, rather than this particular gamethat Adam had invented, and thrust upon him.
Presently Bellew knocked the ashes from his pipe, and rising, walked onslowly toward the house. As he approached, he heard someone playing thepiano, and the music accorded well with his mood, or his mood with themusic, for it was haunting, and very sweet, and with a recurring melodyin a minor key, that seemed to voice all the sorrow of Humanity, past,present, and to come.
Drawn by the music, he crossed the Rose Garden, and reaching theterrace, paused there; for the long French windows were open, and, fromwhere he stood, he could see Anthea seated at the piano. She was dressedin a white gown of some soft, clinging material, and among the heavybraids of her hair was a single great, red rose. And, as he watched, hethought she had never looked more beautiful than now, with the soft glowof the candles upon her; for her face reflected the tender sadness ofthe music, it was in the mournful droop of her scarlet lips, and thesombre depths of her eyes. Close beside her sat little Miss Priscillabusy with her needle as usual, but now she paused, and lifting her headin her quick, bird-like way, looked up at Anthea, long, and fixedly.
"Anthea my dear," said she suddenly, "I'm fond of music, and I love tohear you play, as you know,--but I never heard you play quiteso--dolefully? dear me, no,--that's not the right word,--nordismal,--but I mean something between the two."
"I thought you were fond of Grieg, Aunt Priscilla."
"So I am, but then, even in his gayest moments, poor Mr. Grieg wasalways breaking his heart over something, or other. And--Gracious!--there's Mr. Bellew at the window. Pray come in, Mr. Bellew,and tell us how you liked Peterday, and the muffins?"
"Thank you!" said Bellew, stepping in through the long French window,"but I should like to hear Miss Anthea play again, first, if she will?"
But Anthea, who had already risen from the piano, shook her head:
"I only play when I feel like it,--to please myself,--and AuntPriscilla," said she, crossing to the broad, low window-seat, andleaning out into the fragrant night.
"Why then," said Bellew, sinking into the easy-chair that Miss Priscillaindicated with a little stab of her needle, "why then the muffins weredelicious, Aunt Priscilla, and Peterday was just exactly what aone-legged mariner ought to be."
"And the shrimps, Mr. Bellew?" enquired Miss Priscilla, busy at hersewing again.
"Out-shrimped all other shrimps so ever!" he answered, glancing to whereAnthea sat with her chin propped in her hand, gazing up at the waningmoon, seemingly quite oblivious of him.
"And did--_He_--pour out the tea?" enquired Miss Priscilla, "from thechina pot with the blue flowers and the Chinese Mandarin fanninghimself,--and very awkward, of course, with his one hand,--I don't meanthe Mandarin, Mr. Bellew,--and very full of apologies?"
"He did."
"Just as usual; yes he always does,--and every year he gives me threelumps of sugar,--and I only take one, you know. It's a pity," sighedMiss Priscilla, "that it was his right arm,--a great pity!" And here shesighed again, and, catching herself, glanced up quickly at Bellew, andsmiled to see how completely absorbed he was in contemplation of thesilent figure in the window-seat. "But, after all, better a rightarm--than a leg," she pursued,--"at least, I think so!"
"Certainly!" murmured Bellew.
"A man with only one leg, you see, would be almost as helpless asan--old woman with a crippled foot,--"
"Who grows younger, and brighter, every year!" added Bellew, turning toher with his pleasant smile, "yes, and I think,--prettier!"
"Oh, Mr. Bellew!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla shaking her head at himreprovingly, yet looking pleased, none the less,--"how can you be soridiculous,--Good gracious me!"
"Why, it was the Sergeant who put it into my head,--"
"The Sergeant?"
"Yes,--it was after I had given him your message about peaches, AuntPriscilla and--"
"Oh dear heart!" exclaimed Miss Priscilla, at this juncture, "Prudenceis out, to-night, and I promised to bake the bread for her, and here Isit chatting, and gossipping while that bread goes rising, and risingall over the kitchen!" And Miss Priscilla laid aside her sewing, andcatching up her stick, hurried to the door.
"And I was almost forgetting to wish you 'many happy returns of the day,Aunt Priscilla!'" said Bellew, rising.
At this familiar appellation, Anthea turned sharply, in time to see himstoop, and kiss Miss Priscilla's small, white hand; whereupon Antheamust needs curl her lip at his broad back. Then he opened the door, andMiss Priscilla tapped away, even more quickly than usual.
Anthea was half-sitting, half-kneeling among the cushions in the cornerof the deep window, apparently still lost in contemplation of the moon.So much so, that she did not stir, or even lower her up-ward gaze, whenBellew came, and stood beside her.
Therefore, taking advantage of the fixity of her regard, he, once more,became absorbed in her loveliness. Surely a most unwise proceeding--inArcadia, by the light of a midsummer moon! And he mentally contrastedthe dark, proud beauty of her face, with that of all the women he hadever known,--to their utter, and complete disparagement.
"Well?" enquired Anthea, at last, perfectly conscious of his look, andfinding the silence growing irksome, yet still with her eyesaverted,--"Well, Mr. Bellew?"
"On the contrary," he answered, "the moon is on the wane!"
"The moon!" she repeated, "Suppose it is,--what then?"
"True happiness can only come riding astride the full moon youknow,--you remember old Nannie told us so."
"And you--believed it?" she enquired scornfully.
"Why, of course!" he answered in his quiet way.
Anthea didn't speak but, once again, the curl of her lip was eloquent.
"And so," he went on, quite unabashed, "when I behold Happiness ridingastride the full moon, I shall just reach up, in the most natural mannerin the world, and--take it down, that it may abide with me, worldwithout end."
"Do you think you will be tall enough?"
"We shall see,--when the time comes."
"I think it's all very ridiculous!" said Anthea.
"Why then--suppose you play for me, that same, plaintive piece you wereplaying as I came in,--something of Grieg's I think it was,--will you,Miss Anthea?"
She was on the point of refusing, then, as if moved by some capriciouswhim, she crossed to the piano, and dashed into the riotous music of aPolish Dance. As the wild notes leapt beneath her quick, brown fingers,Bellew, seated near-by, kept his eyes upon the great, red rose in herhair, that nodded slyly at him with her every movement. And surely, inall the world, there had never bloomed a more tantalizing, more wantonlyprovoking rose than this! Wherefore Bellew, very wisely, turned his eyesfrom its glowing temptation. Doubtless observing which, the rose, inevident desperation, nodded, and swayed, until, it had fairly noddeditself from its sweet resting-place, and, falling to the floor, laywithin Bellew's reach. Whereupon, he promptly stooped, and picked it up,and,--even as, with a last, crashing chord, Anthea ceased playing, andturned, in that same moment he dropped it deftly into his coat pocket.
"Oh! by the way, Mr. Bellew," she said, speaking as if the idea had butju
st entered her mind, "what do you intend to do about--all yourfurniture?"
"Do about it?" he repeated, settling the rose carefully in a corner ofhis pocket where it would not be crushed by his pipe.
"I mean--where would you like it--stored until you can send, and haveit--taken away?"
"Well,--I--er--rather thought of keeping it--where it was if you didn'tmind."
"I'm afraid that will be--impossible, Mr. Bellew."
"Why then the barn will be an excellent place for it, I don't supposethe rats and mice will do it any real harm, and as for the damp, andthe dust--"
"Oh! you know what I mean!" exclaimed Anthea, beginning to tap the floorimpatiently with her foot. "Of course we can't go on using the thingsnow that they are your property, it--wouldn't be--right."
"Very well," he nodded, his fingers questing anxiously after the roseagain, "I'll get Adam to help me to shift it all into the barn,to-morrow morning."
"Will you please be serious, Mr. Bellew!"
"As an owl!" he nodded.
"Why then--of course you will be leaving Dapplemere soon, and I shouldlike to know exactly when, so that I can--make the necessaryarrangements."
"But you see, I am not leaving Dapplemere soon or even thinking of it."
"Not?" she repeated, glancing up at him in swift surprise.
"Not until--you bid me."
"I?"
"You!"
"But I--I understood that you--intend to--settle down?"
"Certainly!" nodded Bellew, transferring his pipe to another pocketaltogether, lest it should damage the rose's tender petals. "To settledown has lately become the--er--ambition of my life."
"Then pray," said Anthea, taking up a sheet of music, and beginning tostudy it with attentive eyes, "be so good as to tell me--what you mean."
"That necessarily brings us back to the moon again," answered Bellew.
"The moon?"
"The moon!"
"But what in the world has the moon to do with your furniture?" shedemanded, her foot beginning to tap again.
"Everything!--I bought that furniture with--er--with one eye on themoon, as it were,--consequently the furniture, the moon, and I, arebound indissolubly together."
"You are pleased to talk in riddles, to-night, and really, Mr. Bellew, Ihave no time to waste over them, so, if you will excuse me--"
"Thank you for playing to me," he said, as he held the door open forher.
"I played because I--I felt like it, Mr. Bellew."
"Nevertheless, I thank you."
"When you make up your mind about--the furniture,--please let me know."
"When the moon is at the full, yes."
"Can it be possible that you are still harping on the wild words of poorold Nannie?" she exclaimed, and once more, she curled her lip at him.
"Nannie is very old, I'll admit," he nodded, "but surely you rememberthat we proved her right in one particular,--I mean about the TigerMark, you know."
Now, when he said this, for no apparent reason, the eyes that hadhitherto been looking into his, proud and scornful,--wavered, and werehidden under their long, thick lashes; the colour flamed in her cheeks,and, without another word, she was gone.
The Money Moon: A Romance Page 17