CHAPTER XVIII
THE WEDDING NIGHT
It was over. Maud sat before the open fireplace in Jake's oak-panelledparlour, gazing into the red heart of the fire with a stunned sense offinality, a feeling that she had been overtaken and made prisoner byFate. She was terribly tired. Every limb seemed weighted as if withiron fetters. She longed with a sick longing for sleep and oblivion.She ached for solitude and repose.
Overhead she could hear Jake moving. He was helping Bunny to preparefor the night, by Bunny's own decree. Very soon he would come downagain, and she would have to rouse herself and make conversation. Shewondered wearily how she would do it.
The best room in the house had been given to Bunny. Out of it led asmaller room in which she could sleep and be within call when he neededher. Jake had made every provision he could think of for their comfort.She felt that she ought to be very grateful to him; but somehow she wastoo tired for gratitude. And she could not concentrate her thoughts;they wandered so.
Now it was the glint of the firelight on her wedding-ring that drewthem. It shone with a burning, intolerable sparkle that somehowreminded her of Jake--and the look in his eyes when he had said-- Butshe pulled her mind up short at this point, with a sharp, involuntaryshiver. She would not dwell on that thought. She would bury it deep;deep, far below all others. For she knew she would never cast it out.
She clenched her hand and covered the ring from sight.
The thought of Uncle Edward presented itself, and she seized upon itwith relief. He had been with them during the greater part of the day,and had left but an hour before to catch the night train to town. Hehad been very kind to her, and had taken a shrewd interest in Bunny.Just at parting he had drawn her aside for a moment, looking at her withhis sharp eyes under their shaggy brows with just the look of a terrieron the hunt.
"And if at any time you should be in need of a change of air, my dear,"he had said, "don't forget that you've got an old uncle at Liverpool whowouldn't be sorry to see you--and the boy too--however busy he happenedto be."
He had meant that as an offer of help, should she ever stand in need ofit. She had recognized that, though neither he nor she had emphasizedthe fact. He foresaw a possibility of difficulties ahead with which shemight be unable to cope single-handed. He wanted her to know that shewould never call upon him a second time in vain. She had thanked himwith simplicity, and now she registered the offer in her mind. Almostunconsciously, she had begun already to seek for a way of escape, shouldher captivity become at any time unendurable.
For a captive she undoubtedly was. She had given herself, voluntarilybut completely, into the keeping of a man whom she felt she hardlyknew,--a man who had shown her every consideration in his power, butupon whom even yet she was half-afraid to lean. Full of kindness as shehad found him to be she knew instinctively that he possessed otherqualities, was capable of other impulses. Something of the caged beast,something of the pirate on shore, there was about him. He was quiet, hewas considerate, he was kind. But on his own ground, in his ownelement, would he be always thus? Would he be always the generouscaptor; the steadfast friend? Her heart misgave her a little. Wordsthat Giles Sheppard had uttered only that morning arose suddenly in hermemory, gibing words that sent the hot blood again to her cheeks.
"Ah, he's a deep one, is Jake. What he gives with one hand he takeswith the other and more to it. He's not the man to make a one-sidedbargain. But he knows how to bide his time. He hasn't saddled himselfwith a penniless wife and a hunchback brother-in-law just for the fun ofthe thing. He'll be getting his own back presently, and I think I canguess who'll pay the piper."
Bitter words! Cruel words! Flung in her face for the malignantpleasure of seeing her wince!
She had not winced. She was glad to remember that. She had turned herback on the man's hateful, sneering face. He had humbled her to theearth once, but he would never have another opportunity. HenceforthJake stood between her and all the world. She had bought his protectionat a price, and she knew it for a weapon that would never fail her. Asto the price, she would pay him in service and obedience. It might behe would never ask more of her than these. Life was short, and she wasvery tired. Why should she fret herself over that which might nevercome to pass? She closed her eyes from the red glow of the fire, andlay still.
Yet she could not have travelled far along the dim path to oblivion forthe quiet opening of the door a few minutes later brought her back in asecond. She started up in her chair, alert, nervous, to see Jake enterin his square fashion and shut the door behind him.
"Don't disturb yourself!" he said.
He came and stood before the fire, and Maud, sinking back into herchair, strove to calm the unreasonable inner tumult that his entrancehad excited.
"Are you going to sit down and have a smoke?" she suggested.
He gave her a side-glance that had in it a hint of humour. "You don'tobject to being smoke-dried?" he asked, in his slow, gentle voice.
"Of course I don't," she said.
He took his clay pipe from his pocket and considered it. It was veryold, blackened, and discoloured with much use. He looked at her again,doubtfully.
An odd impulse moved her unexpectedly. She sat up again and held outher hand. "Give it to me! I'll fill it for you."
His hand closed upon it. She saw surprise in his eyes.
"You!" he said.
She found herself smiling. He actually looked embarrassed, a fact whichset her wholly at her ease. "But why not?" she said. "Is it too greata treasure to be entrusted to me?"
But he still held it back. "What do you want to do it for?"
She kept her hand outstretched. "As a small--very small--return foryour goodness to Bunny," she said.
His face changed a little. He put the pipe into her hand. "I don'twant any return," he said. "Don't do it for that!"
She coloured, but she still smiled. "Very well. It is a favourbestowed gratis. Where's your tobacco?"
He fetched a pouch--nearly as ancient as the pipe--out of his pocket,and laid it in her lap.
"You're not to watch me," she said, speaking with a new-found confidencethat surprised herself. "Sit down and read the paper! I'll tell youwhen it's done."
He sat down opposite to her, and took up the paper. "You'll make abeastly mess of your hands," he said uneasily.
"Be quiet!" she said.
He opened out the paper, and there fell a silence.
Maud pursued her self-appointed task with mixed feelings. The tobaccowas rank and coarse, and it smelt like mildewed hay. It was, moreover,nearly black, and she found herself fingering it with increasingdisgust. She was determined however not to be beaten, and withcompressed lips she pinched and poked the revolting substance, rammingit deep into the blackened bowl with a heroic determination toaccomplish the business to the best of her ability, her feelingsnotwithstanding.
"You're packing it too tight," observed Jake gravely.
She looked up half-laughing, half-vexed. "I told you not to watch."
He dropped his paper, and leaned towards her. "I reckon I can't helpwatching you, my girl," he said. "I've never seen anyone like youbefore."
He spoke with absolute simplicity, but his directness struck her like ablow in the face. She lowered her eyes swiftly.
"I'm sorry I haven't done it to your satisfaction," she said, in asmall, cold voice, from which all hint of intimacy had fled. "You hadbetter do it over again."
She held out the pipe to him, and again the firelight gleamed golden-redon that new bright ring that he had placed on her finger that day.
He leaned further forward, stretched out a quiet hand that grasped andheld her own.
He took the pipe from her with the utmost gentleness and laid it aside;but he kept her hand, and after a moment he left his chair and kneltbeside her.
She did not draw back from him, but she stiffened on the instant.
Herbreathing quickened.
There followed a silence, which she found peculiarly hard to bear, andwhich she eventually broke.
"Perhaps I ought to go to Bunny for a little. He will feel neglected."
"He's not expecting you," said Jake. "Say,--Maud!"
"What is it?" she said.
She strove for composure and attained an aloofness that startledherself. He released her hand and began to gather up the litter oftobacco in her lap.
"I was going to speak to you about Bunny," he said. "I've settled tosleep with him to-night."
"You?" She looked at him in quick surprise.
He was not looking at her, being too intent upon his task. The firelightshone red on his bent head. "Yes, I," he said. "You can sleep in myroom. I've had it got ready for you."
The calm decision with which he spoke nearly took her breath away. "Oh,but--but--" she began.
He looked up, and she saw his frank, reassuring smile. It sent a curiousthrill of relief through her. It was such a smile as would have gainedthe confidence of a child.
"That's all right," he said. "Don't you start making difficulties,because there aren't any at present. I've fixed it all. You're goingto bed to-night without any cares, and you're going to sleep the clockround. See?"
"I couldn't sleep--away from Bunny," she said, somewhat breathlessstill, notwithstanding the comforting kindliness of his eyes.
"I reckon you'll have to try," he said. "And if it's any comfort to youto know it, Bunny is charmed with the idea."
His words sent an odd dismay to her heart. With this lightening of herburden, she seemed to see Bunny slipping away from her,--Bunny, whofilled her world.
Jake was on the point of rising from his knees when she laid a detaininghand upon his arm. "Jake," she said, with slight hesitation, "it--it ismore than kind of you to think of this. But do you know I wouldrather--really rather--go on in the old way and look after Bunny myselfat night? You can help me in the daytime if you will. But--but--atnight,--Jake, please, let me take care of him at night!"
There was entreaty in her voice. Jake remained beside her, his handgrasping the arm of her chair. Once more she was conscious of thewarmth of the man as of a force that emanated from him. Her fingersclosed almost beseechingly upon his sleeve.
"Say," he said slowly at last, "is it for your own sake--or forBunny's?"
She quivered at the question. He was looking past her into the fire.She had a feeling that he was deliberately compelling himself to do so.
"I have always mothered Bunny," she said rather piteously."I--shouldn't feel easy about him if--if I were not within reach."
"Is that quite true?" said Jake.
"True!" she echoed.
He nodded two or three times. "Is it quite true that you wouldn't feeleasy--absolutely easy--about leaving the boy in my charge?"
She hesitated.
"Now, don't mind me!" he said. "Be honest! I'm honest myself."
She hesitated still.
He turned his head slowly and looked at her, "It's not--quite--true, isit?" he said.
Her eyes fell before his. "Very well," she said, her voice very low."We will say it is entirely for my own sake. I want to be with him atnight."
Jake was silent a moment. Then: "That's a pity," he said, "because I'mafraid the matter is practically settled. Of course I'd call you if heneeded you," he added.
She drew her hand from beneath his. "You have settled it between you, Isee," she said, with a small, pinched smile.
He got up and solidly returned to his chair. "Yes, that's so. I don'tsay we are going to make a rule of it. But for to-night anyway----"
She interrupted him suddenly, with the vehemence of an abruptresolution. "No, Jake. It must be one thing or the other. I can'thave this discussion over again. So please understand that afterto-night we shall return to the usual arrangement, which is far the bestfor us all."
She spoke with nervous force. She was for the moment painfully afraidof being mastered by this man whose strength was still such an unknownquantity that she braced herself to test it as though she werechallenging a giant.
Jake was digging in the bowl of his pipe with a penknife, and was forthe moment too engrossed with the matter to look up. At length,however, he stuck the pipe into his mouth and began to search hispockets for matches. He found one loose, and bent to strike it on theheel of his boot. She watched him with a growing uneasiness. Would henever speak?
The rasp of the match set her nerves on edge. She rose and stood beforethe fire, very slim and straight.
Jake puffed at his pipe with immense deliberation, and in a moment theburning match sped past her into the flames. He lay back in his chairwith his legs stretched out, his hands in his pockets, and regarded her.
She turned to him at length, meeting the untamed glitter of his eyeswith stern composure. "Jake!"
"My girl!" said Jake.
She shivered suddenly and uncontrollably. He spoke as if--as if he hada proprietary right over her. She read ownership--and the pride ofownership--in his look. Abruptly she turned her back upon him. Just somight he look upon one of his favourite horses. It was the look of themaster, admiring, arbitrary, possessive; and with all her soul sheresented it.
She stood a moment gripping the mantelpiece, gathering her strength.Then without another word she drew herself up and walked out of theroom.
She knew even as she closed the door that by strength she would neverprevail against him. She might beat her will to atoms against his, butnot by a hair's breadth would she thus turn him from the course uponwhich he was set.