CHAPTER XXXV.
RUNNING AWAY.
The dramatic pause which followed Peter's statement was first broken byMrs. D'Alloi, who threw her arms about Watt's neck, and cried: "Oh! myhusband. Forgive me, forgive me for the suspicion!"
Peter turned to Celestine. "Madame," he said. "We are not wanted here."He unlocked the door into the hall, and stood aside while she passedout, which she did quietly. Another moment found the two on thesidewalk. "I will walk with you to your hotel, if you will permit me?"Peter said to her.
"Certainly," Celestine replied. Nothing more was said in the walk of tenblocks. When they reached the hotel entrance, Peter asked: "Can you seeme for a few moments?"
"Yes. Come to my private parlor." They took the elevator, and were but amoment in reaching that apartment.
Peter spoke the moment the door was closed. "Madame," he said, "you sawthat scene. Spare his wife and child? He is not worth your anger."
"Ah, Ciel!" cried Celestine, emotionally. "Do you think so lowly of me,that you can imagine I would destroy your sacrifice? Your romantic, yourdramatic, _mon Dieu!_ your noble sacrifice? Non, non. Celestine Lacourcould never do so. She will suffer cruelty, penury, insults, before shebehaves so shamefully, so perfidiously."
Peter did not entirely sympathize with the Frenchwoman's admiration forthe dramatic element, but he was too good a lawyer not to accept anadmission, no matter upon what grounds. He held out his hand promptly."Madame," he said, "accept my thanks and admiration for your generousconduct."
Celestine took it and shook it warmly.
"Of course," said Peter. "Mr. D'Alloi owes you an ample income."
"Ah!" cried Celestine, shrugging her shoulders. "Do not talk of him--Ileave it to you to make him do what is right."
"And you will return to France?"
"Yes, yes. If you say so?" Celestine looked at Peter in a manner knownonly to the Latin races. Just then a side door was thrown open, and aboy of about twelve years of age dashed into the room, followed by aFrench poodle.
"Little villain!" cried Celestine. "How dare you approach withoutknocking? Go. Go. Quickly."
"Pardon, Madame," said the child. "I thought you still absent."
"Is that the child?" asked Peter.
"Yes," said Celestine.
"Does he know?"
"Nothing. I do not tell him even that I am his mother."
"Then you are not prepared to give him a mother's care and tenderness?"
"Never. I love him not. He is too like his father. And I cannot have itknown that I am the mother of a child of twelve. It would not bebelieved, even." Celestine took a look at herself in the tall mirror.
"Then I suppose you would like some arrangement about him?"
"Yes."
Peter stayed for nearly an hour with the woman. He stayed so long, thatfor one of the few times in his life he was late at a dinner engagement.But when he had left Celestine, every detail had been settled. Peter didnot have an expression of pleasure on his face as he rode down-town, norwas he very good company at the dinner which he attended that evening.
The next day did not find him in any better mood. He went down-town, andcalled on an insurance company and talked for a while with thepresident. Then he called at a steamship office. After that he spenttwenty minutes with the head of one of the large schools for boys in thecity. Then he returned to his office.
"A Mr. D'Alloi is waiting for you in your private office, sir," he wastold. "He said that he was an old friend and insisted on going inthere."
Peter passed into his office.
Watts cried: "My dear boy, how can I ever--"
He was holding out his hand, but Peter failed to take it, andinterrupted him.
"I have arranged it all with Madame Lacour," Peter said coldly. "Shesails on La Bretagne on Thursday. You are to buy an annuity for threethousand dollars a year. In addition, you are to buy an annuity for theboy till he is twenty-five, of one thousand dollars a year, payable tome as his guardian. This will cost you between forty and fifty thousanddollars. I will notify you of the amount when the insurance companysends it to me. In return for your check, I shall send you the lettersand other things you sent Madame Lacour, or burn them, as you direct.Except for this the affair is ended. I need not detain you further."
"Oh, I say, chum. Don't take it this way," cried Watts. "Do youthink--?"
"I end it as suits me," said Peter. "Good-day."
"But, at least you must let me pay you a fee for your work?"
Peter turned on Watts quickly, but checked the movement and the words onhis tongue. He only reiterated. "Good-day."
"Well, if you will have it so." Watts went to the door, but hesitated."Just as you please. If, later, you change your mind, send me word. Ishan't cherish any feeling for this. I want to be friends."
"Good-day," said Peter. Watts passed out, closing the door.
Peter sat down at his desk, doing nothing, for nearly an hour. How longhe would have sat will never be known, if his brown study had not beenended by Rivington's entrance. "The Appeals have just handed down theirdecision in the Henley case. We win."
"I thought we should," said Peter mechanically.
"Why, Peter! What's the matter with you? You look as seedy as--"
"As I feel," said Peter. "I'm going to stop work and take a ride, to seeif I can't knock some of my dulness out of me." Within an hour he was atthe Riding Club.
"Hello," said the stable man. "Twice in one day! You're not often hereat this hour, sir. Which horse will you have?"
"Give me whichever has the most life in him."
"It's Mutineer has the devil in him always, sir. Though it's notyourself need fear any horse. Only look out for the ice."
Peter rode into the Park in ten minutes. He met Lispenard at the firstturn.
"Hello! It's not often you are here at this hour." Lispenard reined hishorse up alongside.
"No," said Peter. "I've been through a very revolt--a very disagreeableexperience, and I've come up here to get some fresh air. I don't want tobe sociable."
"That's right. Truthful as ever. But one word before we separate. Keppelhas just received two proofs of Haden's last job. He asks awful pricesfor them, but you ought to see them."
"Thanks." And the two friends separated as only true friends canseparate.
Peter rode on, buried in his own thoughts. The park was rather empty,for dark comes on early in March, and dusk was already in the air. Heshook himself presently, and set Mutineer at a sharp canter round thelarger circle of the bridle path. But before they had half swung thecircle, he was deep in thought again, and Mutineer was taking his ownpace. Peter deserved to get a stumble and a broken neck or leg, but hedidn't. He was saved from it by an incident which never won any creditfor its good results to Peter, however much credit it gained him.
Peter was so deeply engrossed in his own thoughts that he did not hearthe clutter of a horse's feet behind him, just as he struck the longstretch of the comparatively straight path along the Reservoir. ButMutineer did, and pricked up his ears. Mutineer could not talkarticulately, but all true lovers of horses understand their language.Mutineer's cogitations, transmuted into human speech, were something tothis effect:
"Hello! What's that horse trying to do? He can't for a moment expect topass me!"
But the next moment a roan mare actually did pass him, going at a swiftgallop.
Mutineer laid his ears back, "The impudence!" he said. "Does thatlittle whiffet of a roan mare think she's going to show me her heels?I'll teach her!" It is a curious fact that both the men and horses whoare most seldom passed by their kind, object to it most when it happens.
Peter suddenly came back to affairs earthly to find Mutineer justsettling into a gait not permitted by Park regulations. He drew rein,and Mutineer, knowing that the fun was up, danced round the path in hisbad temper.
"Really," he said to himself, "if I wasn't so fond of you, I'd give youand that mare, an awful lesson. Hello! not another? This is too
much!"
The last remarks had relation to more clattering of hoofs. In a moment agroom was in view, going also at a gallop.
"Hout of the way," cried the groom, to Peter, for Mutineer was waltzinground the path in a way that suggested "no thoroughfare." "Hi'm afterthat runaway."
Peter looked after the first horse, already a hundred feet away. He saidnothing to groom nor horse, but Mutineer understood the sudden change inthe reins, even before he felt that maddening prick of the spurs. Therewas a moment's wild grinding of horse's feet on the slippery road andthen Mutineer had settled to his long, tremendous stride.
"Now, I'll show you," he remarked, "but if only he wouldn't hold me sodamned tight." We must forgive Mutineer for swearing. He lived so muchwith the stablemen, that, gentleman though he was, evil communicationscould not be entirely resisted.
Peter was riding "cool." He knew he could run the mare down, but henoticed that the woman, who formed the mount, was sitting straight, andhe could tell from the position of her elbows that she was still pullingon her reins, if ineffectually. He thought it best therefore to let themare wind herself before he forced himself up, lest he should only makethe runaway horse the wilder. So after a hundred yards' run, he drewMutineer down to the mare's pace, about thirty feet behind her.
They ran thus for another hundred yards. Then suddenly Peter saw thewoman drop her reins, and catch at the saddle. His quick eye told him ina moment what had happened. The saddle-girth had broken, or the saddlewas turning. He dug his spurs into Mutineer, so that the horse, who hadnever had such treatment, thought that he had been touched by twobranding irons. He gave a furious shake of his ears, and really showedthe blood of his racing Kentucky forebears. In fifteen seconds the horsewas running even with the mare.
Peter had intended merely to catch the reins of the runaway, trusting tohis strength to do what a woman's could not. But when he came upalongside, he saw that the saddle had turned so far that the rider couldnot keep her seat ten seconds longer. So he dropped his reins, bentover, and putting his arms about the woman lifted her off the precariousseat, and put her in front of him. He held her there with one arm, andreached for his reins. But Mutineer had tossed them over his head.
"Mutineer!" said Peter, with an inflection of voice decidedlycommanding.
"I covered a hundred yards to your seventy," Mutineer told the roanmare. "On a mile track I could go round you twice, without getting outof breath. I could beat you now, even with double mount easily. But myPeter has dropped the reins and that puts me on my honor. Good-bye."Mutineer checked his great racing stride, broke to a canter; dropped toa trot; altered that to a walk, and stopped.
Peter had been rather astonished at the weight he had lifted. Peter hadnever lifted a woman before. His chief experience in the weight ofhuman-kind had been in wrestling matches at the armory, and only thelargest and most muscular men in the regiment cared to try a bout withhim. Of course Peter knew as a fact that women were lighter than men,but after bracing himself, much as he would have done to try thecross-buttock with two hundred pounds of bone and brawn, he marvelledmuch at the ease with which he transferred the rider. "She can't weighover eighty pounds," he thought. Which was foolish, for the womanactually weighed one hundred and eighteen, as Peter afterwards learned.
The woman also surprised Peter in another way. Scarcely had she beenplaced in front of him, than she put her arms about his neck and buriedher face in his shoulder. She was not crying, but she was drawing herbreath in great gasps in a manner which scared Peter terribly. Peter hadnever had a woman cling to him in that way, and frightened as he was,he made three very interesting discoveries:
1. That a man's shoulder seems planned by nature as a resting place fora woman's head.
2. That a man's arm about a woman's waist is a very pleasant positionfor the arm.
3. That a pair of woman's arms round a man's neck, with the claspedhands, even if gloved, just resting on the back of his neck, is verysatisfying.
Peter could not see much of the woman. His arm told him that she wasdecidedly slender, and he could just catch sight of a small ear and acheek, whose roundness proved the youth of the person. Otherwise hecould only see a head of very pretty brown hair, the smooth dressing ofwhich could not entirely conceal its longing to curl.
When Mutineer stopped, Peter did not quite know what to do. Of course itwas his duty to hold the woman till she recovered herself. That was aplain duty--and pleasant. Peter said to himself that he really was sorryfor her, and thought his sensations were merely the satisfaction of afather in aiding his daughter. We must forgive his foolishness, forPeter had never been a father, and so did not know the parental feeling.
It had taken Mutineer twenty seconds to come to a stand, and for tenseconds after, no change in the condition occurred. Then suddenly thewoman stopped her gasps. Peter, who was looking down at her, saw thepale cheek redden. The next moment, the arms were taken from his neckand the woman was sitting up straight in front of him. He got a downwardlook at the face, and he thought it was the most charming he had everseen.
The girl kept her eyes lowered, while she said firmly, though withtraces of breathlessness and tremulo in her voice, "Please help medown."
Peter was out of his saddle in a moment, and lifted the girl down. Shestaggered slightly on reaching the ground, so that Peter said: "You hadbetter lean on me."
"No," said the girl, still looking down, "I will lean against thehorse." She rested against Mutineer, who looked around to see who wastaking this insulting liberty with a Kentucky gentleman. Having lookedat her he said: "You're quite welcome, you pretty dear!" Peter thoughthe would like to be a horse, but then it occurred to him that equinescould not have had what he had just had, so he became reconciled to hislot.
The girl went on flushing, even after she was safely leaning againstMutineer. There was another ten seconds' pause, and then she said, stillwith downcast eyes, "I was so frightened, that I did not know what I wasdoing."
"You behaved very well," said Peter, in the most comforting voice hecould command. "You held your horse splendidly."
"I wasn't a bit frightened, till the saddle began to turn." The girlstill kept her eyes on the ground, and still blushed. She was undergoingalmost the keenest mortification possible for a woman. She had for amoment been horrified by the thought that she had behaved in this way toa groom. But a stranger--a gentleman--was worse! She had not looked atPeter's face, but his irreproachable riding-rig had been noticed. "If ithad only been a policeman," she thought. "What can I say to him?"
Peter saw the mortification without quite understanding it. He knew,however, it was his duty to ease it, and took the best way by giving hersomething else to think about.
"As soon as you feel able to walk, you had better take my arm. We canget a cab at the 72d Street entrance, probably. If you don't feel ableto walk, sit down on that stone, and I'll bring a cab. It oughtn't totake me ten minutes."
"You are very good," said the girl, raising her eyes, and taking a lookat Peter's face for the first time.
A thrill went through Peter.
The girl had slate-colored eyes!!