"Come up to the school, Tom!" she returned. "You can dine in hall as my guest. And what brought you to town?"
"Can't talk now, Florence. And I'll have to refuse your invitation—because we'll all three have to dine down-town. Better make it the 'Royton'; then we can have comparative privacy."
"All three?" she echoed. "Who's with you?"
"A man who has news of your father, dear. He's to join us at the 'Royton' at one sharp, but I want to see you for a few moments first. Why not meet me at the Art Institute about twelve-thirty? I'll be in the Japanese Room. Believe me, it's important!"
"News of—father? Why, yes! I'll be there on time, Tom. Japanese Room!"
So, at the hour when the galleries were totally deserted1, Tom Dennis was striding up and down in the Japanese Room, past the cases filled with lacquer ware2. In his present mood of frowning meditation3, his features looked almost forbidding; they were strong features, rugged4 with an uncompromising virility5. Looking at them, one could understand how this man, unaided, had first worked his way through college and had later gone to the top of an overcrowded profession.
On time almost to the minute, Florence Hathaway appeared. Dennis met her at the door, his hand to hers; a swift glance around, and he bent6 his lips to hers.
"This way, dear!" he said, turning. "There'll be no interruptions then."
Together they made their way outside to one of the little balconies overlooking the smoky park and lake front. Brushing off two of the chairs, Tom Dennis set them by the stone rail.
"What on earth is it all about, Tom?" asked the girl wonderingly.
"Me, first—then you," smiling he filled his pipe and lighted it. Then he set about his tale, beginning with his own situation of the previous afternoon, and passing on to the coming of Boatswain Joe. He described his own hopeless case very bluntly and frankly7.
Florence Hathaway did not interrupt him, but sat in silence, her eyes fastened upon his rugged face, reading there the signs of his past worries and failure. They were fine eyes, those that dwelt upon him with love and tenderness. An artist might have said that they were too large for her face, that their glowing brown depths held too passionate8 a fervor9, too calmly poised10 a radiance, to match her almost colourless cheeks. By no rule could Florence Hathaway be adjudged beautiful; and yet Marshville had missed her more than all its other absent daughters put together.
In her eyes, indeed, lay the brave and tender soul of Florence Hathaway. Frail11 seemed her slender, almost girlish body; yet one who gazed into her level eyes knew that hers was an indomitable spirit—a heritage perhaps, from that lost father whose iron soul had battled the men and winds and seas of half the world.
"Then you've left Marshville for good?" she asked quietly when Dennis paused.
"Yes." He nodded curtly12. "The place will be shut for six months. If I've not returned by that time, if I've not struck some lucky vein13, old Dribble14 can foreclose his mortgage and be blessed! Of course, I'm not gambling15 on striking it rich in a hurry; it's just a long chance that still remains16. Well, now that's settled, let's get on about your friend Ericksen. You never heard of anyone by that name?"
"No. He may have known my father——"
"I'm coming to that. Ericksen had come from the Pacific Coast to find you—in person; mark that down as Point One, upper case! Why in person, when a letter or telegram would have fetched you? Point One—Query! I don't like that fellow's looks.
"Point Two: he tells a very fishy17 sort of tale—namely, that your father was not lost at sea at all, but was rescued——"
"What?" broke in the girl, leaning forward. Again Dennis nodded, imperturbable18.
"Yes, if you care to believe it. I don't! He says that your father was taken into Unalaska by some natives who had found him on one of the Aleut islands—he was then down with something like what used to be called 'brain fever'. It left him quite paralysed. He was taken to Vancouver and is now in a sailors' home there. Being paralysed, barely able to keep alive, he has been unable to tell his name—mind you, this is all Boatswain Joe's narrative19.
"Ericksen, or some of his friends, saw your father there and recognized him, and promptly20 took him in charge. Do you get that, Florence? They have him in a house in Vancouver now, taking care of him. Point Two! They are not philanthropists; why did they do this? Why did they not communicate with the authorities? Why do they send Boatswain Joe to get you?"
"To get—me?" The girl's brown eyes shone eagerly.
"Yes. Ericksen wants you to go and see your father, wants you to try to communicate with him. Why? I don't know. Probably your father knows something that Ericksen or his friends want to know. Well, I suppose you'd go quick enough, if you believed the story?"
"Go?" she flashed. "Of course! To-day—now!"
"Ericksen seemed to think you might not," said Dennis dryly. "He offered me a thousand dollars to persuade you to go. I refused to give him your address; we came to Chicago together last night, and I told him you'd meet us for dinner. That's all. Point Three, why did he offer me that money?"
He was silent for a minute, then knocked out his pipe and swung around to face her.
"Look squarely at it, Florence: there's something mighty21 queer in the wind! Point one: why did Boatswain Joe come in person to get you? Point two: why are his friends taking care of your father? Point three: why do they try to bribe22 me to persuade you to go? I don't like it."
She gazed at him silently, frowningly.
"I can't answer any of those questions," she said at last, slowly. "But if my father is alive, and in that condition—my place is with him! Let's leave it until we see this man. He will perhaps have some proofs to offer me. He would have no incentive23 to tell such a story if it were not true.... About yourself, Tom: what do you intend to do now?"
He laughed shortly. "I've scarcely thought about it, Florence; this other thing has been on my mind all night. But I know this: I'll not let you go West in company with that sailor! That's dead sure. If his story is really true, then I'm going along, somehow!"
He glanced at his watch, and rose. "Time! Say nothing definite to Ericksen. Listen to him and form your own conclusions. Make an appointment with him for to-morrow to give him your answer; better make it for the 'Royton' again. Make him agree to pay our expenses West."
"You know I'll not take his money, Tom—on such an errand."
"I will, though." And Dennis laughed. "I'm down to thirty-four dollars! Besides, I want to see just how readily he'll agree to shell out real money. There's something queer about that crowd's being willing to pay so high to get you to Vancouver!"
"All sailors are generous," said the girl softly. "Perhaps some friends of father's are behind it."
"They didn't telegraph you, did they? Well, we shall see. Anyway—draw him out!"
In silence they regained24 the corridors, descended25 the wide staircase, and sought the street. Presently they entered a deserted lobby and gained the elevator running to the restaurant above.
When they stepped out of the car, they found Boatswain Joe awaiting them, manifestly ill at ease, and obviously an object of some suspicion on the part of the restaurant people. Dennis, knowing the head waiter of old, gained a quiet table in a corner and ordered dinner.
He was covertly26 watching Florence, to see how she took to the seaman27; but she was plainly doing her best to put Ericksen at his ease. Amid these surroundings, he was anything but comfortable. The linen28 and silver, the table appointments, the orchestra, the general surroundings—all abashed29 and discomfited30 him. Tom Dennis grinned to himself, for this was precisely31 what he had aimed at.
But Boatswain Joe was there for a purpose and lost no time getting about it. Florence Hathaway, too, was wildly eager to authenticate32 the news of her father, and urged him to tell his story at once. So Ericksen, by the time the soup arrived, was into it full swing and was forgetting his own awkwardness and the girl's presence; bashfulness left him, and he told the story more in detail than he had to Dennis—perhaps under the spell of those glowing brown eyes.
And Dennis, studying the man, realized that Ericksen was no fool. He had guessed as much from the twisted lines of the face. Now, the more he listened, the more Dennis felt that Boatswain Joe had been well chosen for his present errand. The man presented the story of Captain Hathaway with a simplicity33 which carried conviction.
"So, ma'am, the skipper and the missus are takin' care of him," he concluded. "The skipper says to me: 'If the lady wants proof, boatswain, you give it to her!' So, ma'am, I got some pictures took showin' all of us."
Ericksen took an envelope from his pocket and passed it to the girl. She drew forth34 some photographs—and her face went white.
"Look here, Ericksen!" Dennis leaned forward, his eyes gripping the gaze of the sailor. "There are some things we don't understand. Why did you come in person to find Miss Hathaway? Who's your skipper, and why is he taking care of Captain Hathaway? Why are you spending so much money on the project?"
"Sailormen don't count pennies," said the man curtly. "Besides, the skipper—Cap'n Pontifex—he used to know Cap'n Hathaway. Friends, they were."
"And he expects to get some information through Miss Hathaway?"
"Aye, that's true enough; but what it is, ain't for me to say. 'You mind your jaw-tackle, boatswain,' says the skipper. That's all."
"Mr. Dennis will go West with us," said Florence Hathaway softly, extending the pictures to Dennis. "You will furnish expenses, Mr. Ericksen?"
"Aye, miss." In the light-blue eyes Dennis read a sudden avid39 gleam. They were very dangerous, those eyes, very predatory and unscrupulous. "Aye, miss—here an' now."
The seaman drew from his pocket a small roll of bills and counted off three fifties which he extended to Dennis. The latter took them. The eyes of the two men met and held; and again Dennis felt that sense of enmity, of forced geniality40, as though the man were concealing41 a deadly hostility42 beneath a show of eager conciliation43. First Boatswain Joe had desired to propitiate44 him; now he desired to propitiate Florence Hathaway.
The photographs numbered four; in each was shown a figure in a wheel-chair—and the figure was that of Captain Hathaway. Dennis had seen other and older pictures of Florence Hathaway's father, and he recognized at once that massive countenance46, that giant frame, those wide and unafraid eyes. He looked less at this figure, however, than at those others showing in the pictures.
One was Captain Pontifex—a man tall and thin, face cavernous and pallid47, with deep-sunk eyes and a curled black moustache. Another was that of Mrs. Pontifex—"the Missus", as Boatswain Joe termed her; her face was indistinct, although her figure seemed very large. In two of the pictures Ericksen himself showed. The only other figure was that of a black man, quite indistinct, whom Ericksen described as the skipper's mate, Manuel Mendez, a "black Portuguese48" from the Cape49 Verde Islands. Tom Dennis returned the envelope to Ericksen.
"I don't want your thousand dollars," he said quietly. "I've told Miss Hathaway all you said to me, and your offer of a bribe; it is not necessary."
Ericksen was quite unperturbed.
"Then, miss, I take it that you'll go?"
Florence smiled at him; and when she smiled, her frail features were suddenly lighted as by warm sunshine.
"Yes, ma'am—and if I may say so, there's a bit o' haste."
"Certainly. If we go, we'll be ready to catch the limited at eight to-morrow night."
"Couldn't ask no better, miss!" exclaimed the sailor. "Shipshape talk; that's what it is. 'If we go,' says you, 'we'll go on the jump'—just like that! Aye, all Bristol-fashion and trim! I'm proud to ha' met you, Miss Hathaway, and I hope you'll be able to get a few words out o' your poor father."
Ericksen checked himself abruptly51, as though he had said too much. But he did not ask any questions concerning the money he had given Dennis; and this, to the mind of Dennis was an unnatural52 and puzzling fact, for Ericksen would hardly have handed over the money unless he were certain of Florence Hathaway's decision. The entire attitude of this seaman was puzzling in the extreme. His money carelessness might be explained by the fact that Captain Pontifex was backing him—but it looked queer.
Something of these thoughts was troubling Tom Dennis as he left the building with Florence Hathaway; they had parted with Ericksen in the restaurant lobby, seemingly to the entire satisfaction of the seaman. Dennis had already phoned for a taxicab, and as they went bowling53 up toward the North Shore, the girl noticed his silence.
"Well, Tom? A penny for your thoughts!"
"I was wondering what Ericksen's game can be—and who that Cap'n Pontifex is!"
"I never heard of him. Certainly father never mentioned him. Well, you're going to keep that money?"
"Yes. It's fair loot from the enemy."
"Enemy? But, Tom—surely you don't think Ericksen and his friends——"
"I'm convinced that there's something back of it all, Florence, something we don't know about! And that it's nothing very good."
The girl laughed. "Oh, Tom, you're delicious! Well, suit yourself; we'll go West to-morrow night—that is, I'm going. You can only go on one condition."
"Yes?" He looked at her, suspicious of the twinkle in her eyes. "What is it?"
"Tell you in a minute, dear. Now, it's true that you've failed in Marshville?"
"And you don't know what you're going to do?"
"No."
"It would be very foolish for us to marry, wouldn't it—especially with poor father to be taken care of? I have eight hundred dollars in the bank—a little surprise for you dear; but we shall probably have to stay West and get a fresh start. And, Tom, it'll take a long time before we get on our feet, won't it?"
"Of course," he assented56. "I had no intention of coming to you, a failure, and holding you to your promise, Florence." His voice was harsh. "I doubt if I would have come, only that this other affair brought me. You're quite right. It would be criminal for us to marry, with only a few dollars in the world, and your helpless father——"
"Hush57!" Her hand fluttered over his lips, and he promptly kissed it. "Don't say that it would be criminal, Tom; it would only be foolish."
"What's the condition?" he insisted.
"I'm coming to that. You admit, then, that in our present circumstances we should play the safe game, wait until we get established in the West, and until we get on our feet financially?"
"We ought to, of course," he nodded, storm in his eyes. "It would be folly58 to face poverty, to assume everything——"
"Isn't it very foolish to be in love at all, Tom, dear?"
"Not with you! That's something nobody could help."
"Then this is my condition; and if you refuse, you can't go West! To-morrow morning we shall be married. We shall deliberately59 be foolish—assume our burdens, have each other and make the best of things! Oh, don't stare at me. Don't you think my love and confidence and faith in you are supreme60, dear? They are. We'll only win by daring—so we shall dare everything! And with each other, Tom—we shall win!"
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1
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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virility
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| n.雄劲，丈夫气 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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7
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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8
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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12
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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14
dribble
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| v.点滴留下，流口水；n.口水 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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17
fishy
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| adj. 值得怀疑的 | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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21
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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bribe
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| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
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incentive
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| n.刺激；动力；鼓励；诱因；动机 | |
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regained
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| 复得( regain的过去式和过去分词 )； 赢回； 重回； 复至某地 | |
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25
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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covertly
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| adv.偷偷摸摸地 | |
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seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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28
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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29
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
discomfited
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| v.使为难( discomfit的过去式和过去分词)；使狼狈；使挫折；挫败 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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32
authenticate
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| vt.证明…为真，鉴定 | |
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33
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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38
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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40
geniality
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| n.和蔼，诚恳；愉快 | |
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41
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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42
hostility
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| n.敌对，敌意；抵制［pl.］交战，战争 | |
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43
conciliation
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| n.调解，调停 | |
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44
propitiate
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| v.慰解，劝解 | |
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45
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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47
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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48
Portuguese
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| n.葡萄牙人；葡萄牙语 | |
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49
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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50
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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51
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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52
unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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53
bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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54
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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55
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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56
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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58
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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59
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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60
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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