Oliver Fleming

“ For in Amaryllis, sleep, Dick's care and Mrs. Brundage's wardrobe had worked transformation. From the dust and mud on the thick little shoes, up over five visible inches of coarse grey stocking to clumsy amplitude of washed-out, pink-striped cotton skirt, and thence by severity of blue-linen blouse to the face lurking in the pale lavender of the quilted sun-bonnet, the eye met nothing which was not proper to the country-girl, dressed a little older, when the tail of hair swung to her body's movement, than her sixteen years required. ”

“ But Amaryllis at first left the watching to his, closing her own and lying still, in sheer womanly terror of being sick. Somewhere within was a doubt as to whether she did not already adore him, and a pitiable anxiety that "nothing horrid" should be associated in his mind with her person.
Dick, lying at full length, turned his eyes every now and again from his watch on the road to look at the girl's face; and saw, with anxiety as well as pity, how pale it was, and how wasted already by hunger, fear and running—and perhaps by the drug they had given her the night before. ”

“ Throughout these few strained moments Dick had borne himself as a man concerned only with his daughter. But at this moment Dixon Mallaby caught a gleam from his eyes which assured him that the least familiarity or impertinence of Melchard's would be resented in a manner likely to divert the crowd's lingering anger from Mut-mut to his master. Much as he disliked Melchard and his indefinitely unpleasant reputation, he was not going to have his match spoiled by the beating and kicking to a jelly of a scented and dandified Millsborough dentist. ”

“ Amaryllis saw it all; Mut-mut on the sky-line of the ridge, hesitating; Melchard and his pistol in eccentric parabolas; Dick, with a wisp of black hair over his wounded cheek, "flying," she called it, down the last of the slope, and crossing the level ground to her and the car; a wild man running, she thought, with the pace of a racehorse, and the movement, not of a runaway, but of a winner. ”

“ Amaryllis was a quick walker, and had set a good pace up the slope from the stile. Suddenly she remembered her companion's nick-name, and, slackening her speed, involuntarily glanced down to see if indeed this man were lame.
He came up beside her.
"It's all right, Miss Caldegard," he said kindly. "My action's a blemish, not a handicap."
"Oh, Mr. Bellamy!" she said. "I never even noticed it until this minute."
"I thought that was how you recognised me in the road," said the man.
"It wasn't that," said Amaryllis, and in fear of further questioning, whistled her dog back to the path. ”

“ Charles had followed his mistress to the taxi.
The driver, turning on her approach, stood back, touching his cap; amazed by this condescension of jewels and silk to beauty ill-clothed, draggled, dirty and exhausted.
Suddenly Lady Elizabeth remembered that she did not know even the girl's name.
"Open the door, please," she said to the driver. And then, to Amaryllis, "My dear, you're to come in," and stretched her hands out with a motion so inviting that the girl laid her own in them, taking all their support to rise and get out on the pavement. ”

“ By the time that the hill had reduced them to a straining walk, Gallowstree Dip was out of sight, and Dick let out his breath with a little hissing noise between the teeth. Amaryllis heard it and understood.
"Dad!" she said.
"Ay, lass?" he answered.
"Those two men," she said, lowering her voice and speaking in her natural manner: "as we were coming down to the bridge they pushed up their goggles, and their faces were beastly—just as if they meant," she whispered, "to kill somebody." ”

“ Having delicately wiped his face with a ladylike handkerchief in memory of his danger and gratitude, Melchard tried again.
"I saw you arrive with your quaint team, sir," he said; "the unicorn, I mean, not the eleven."
But the parson allowed no outsider to poke fun at the St. Asaph's cricket club.
"Handled his horses in fine style, your driver. Why!" exclaimed Melchard, as if noticing Dick and Amaryllis with her head on his shoulder for the first time, "there he is—and pleasantly occupied. I mean the fellow with the girl in his arms, and the cut on his face. I wonder how he got it." ”

“ Why, we should never have got the Dope of the Gods back, without you."
And when she laughed, he told her how her father had growled: "Oh, damn the Ambrotox!" and how he had lectured the potentate on nervous exhaustion.
But when a little silence fell between them, Amaryllis took a deep breath and plunged, saying in a half-stifled voice, "I want to tell you something."
"Tell away, child," he replied, smiling benignantly on her, though his heart beat heavily, telling him her tale beforehand.
"It's—it's Dick," she said, and broke down.
"Dick?" he responded. ”

“ The thought of that gruesome weapon, more frightful than the unsheathed claws of the royalest Bengal tiger, hanging over the head of his chosen among women, stung Dick Bellamy to very unceremonious removal of the body, which, after rifling it of a handful of cartridges, he flung by the roadside; and then, lest Amaryllis should see the awful head again, even in death, he covered the whole corpse with an overcoat of Melchard's from the car. ”

“ A whisper awoke her. She raised her head. The voice was behind her. Cautiously, kept silent between fear and curiosity, she rose and turned her face to the alcove.
A man was there, with his back towards her—not one of her men. His clothes were grey; his right hand was on the open door of the safe, the left holding a small parcel wrapped in white paper, and, separate, an envelope.
Amaryllis knew what he held, and the courage rose in her to hold back the scream which was coming, until she should have tight hold of the thief—the fingers of both hands, she hoped, fast in his collar. ”

“ Talk, make love, make laugh."
"And if the strength fail altogether?" asked Dick, for a moment humble before this wizened wisdom.
"Better the spur and the whip than the wolves should eat the mare," answered Pépe. And he drew a little box from his pocket. "It is the leaves," he said. "They are not evil like the drugs of shops and cities. If she flag and is without strength by the way, let her chew a little, whilst you fill her mind with other thoughts. Then will she endure till Dicco wins."
Dick turned to Mrs. Brundage, and, to her relief, spoke at last in English. ”

“ Caldegard had spoken little since Dick's entrance. He now rose as if shot from his chair by a spring, and spoke with a vigour that reminded Randal of their youth.
"Five hundred miles—driving your own car in the dark! Climb the side of a house. Break in—save one woman from being knifed by another. Fight five armed men with your fists and boots. Knock out four of them. Run a mile, dragging a girl—from a man chasing you, and shooting at you with a revolver. Kill a murderer with a murderess's dagger. ”

“ When he went to his room that night, Dick Bellamy was followed by a vivid ghost with reddish-gold hair, golden-brown, expressive eyes, adorable mouth, and skin of perfect texture, over neck and shoulders of a creamy whiteness which melted into the warmer colour of the face by gradation so fine that none could say where that flush as of a summer sunset first touched the snow. ”

“ For a moment neither spoke.
"You do understand, don't you?" she asked at last.
"I believe you, my dear," he answered; then added gently: "There's a happier man somewhere, I think."
Amaryllis opened her eyes wide, almost, it seemed, in fear.
"Oh, no, no!" she cried. "Truthfully, I don't know any more than I've told you."
When he was gone, she sat for a long time, wishing she could feel alone.
Several times between lunch and dinner that day had Amaryllis wondered why Dick Bellamy was so taciturn—silent and sombre almost to moroseness. But Randal had no doubt that he knew. ”

“ Caldegard laughed. "Oh, she calls, and calls pretty loud sometimes," he said. "Let her call. It's all part of the experiment. Knowledge, you see, has the sweeter voice."
Amaryllis had tears in her eyes, and for a moment the others waited on her evident desire to speak.
"But do you think, father," she said at last, "that's it's really worth while to let the world know you have found a more delightful temptation than opium or cocaine, just for the sake of giving a few sick people a more comfortable medicine than they've been accustomed to. Ambrotox!" ”

“ George took a step forward, and Dick half rose in courtesy.
"This is Miss ——" said Lady Elizabeth, and stuck.
"Oh, Liz!" cried Dick. "Beginning an introduction, when you haven't been introduced yourself! Lady Elizabeth Bruffin, you have on your arm Miss Caldegard, daughter of the eminent Professor Caldegard. George, you behold the same. Miss Caldegard, Lady Elizabeth Bruffin, and her husband, Mr. George Bruffin. He is famous for immeasurable wealth which he can't use and a few brains which he uses in all sorts of queer ways, and hasn't yet spent." ”

“ The idea that under this ill-fitting, already draggled skirt, and loose, ridiculous man's jacket were concealed the fine skin and well-tended person of a lady, filled her with expectation of romance. If the Millsborough Herald had taught her to despise the "low moral tone" of those who ride in carriages and know not hardship, the Penny Pansy, in its own inimitable manner, had compelled her to believe that they possessed a distinction which she could not define. ”

“ Kill a man armed with that steel-clawed thing there, steal a car, knock a man off a train, and bring home the exhausted woman alive and your chief enemy drunk and a prisoner—do all that without sleep for thirty-six hours, Sir Gregory; then, if you can drop off to sleep like that, instead of having your head packed in ice and babbling pink spiders and blue monkeys, you may call your constitution cast-iron. All exhaustion is nervous, Sir Gregory, and the man who can stand the biggest dose of it is the strongest man. ”

“ He went up to Caldegard.
"Have you heard Bruffin describe Dick's solo on the dinner-bells—last night, you know? Well come and see if he's in the hall now," he said, and dragged the old man away.
Left alone together,
"It's like a dream," said Amaryllis; and, "Which!" asked Dick.
"Yesterday," said the girl, peering at his calm face.
"It's this that's like dreaming, to me," he answered. "When you're awake you make things happen. When you're asleep, things have the best of it—make you follow their lead. Yesterday, Amaryllis, I was some bloke, because I was useful to you. ”

“ Ockley, elated, pursued his advantage with a savage left drive which might have proved worse for Dick than the right which had just split his cheek, had he not, ducking to his right in perfect time, met the big man with a heavy left jolt in the mouth, and, simultaneously advancing his right foot and straightening his body, followed it up with a right to the jaw that knocked his opponent full length. He fell and lay beyond the projection of the hearth on the other side of which was Melchard, still as death. ”

“ An anodyne with more than all the charms and few of the dangers of opium will bring comfort with a good conscience to thousands of sufferers in this nerve-racked world.' Every chemist in the country that knows my line of work will be searching in a furious effort to forestall the new legislation by discovering and putting on the market new synthetic opiates. There is not, perhaps, much fear that chance shooting will achieve the actual bull's-eye of Ambrotox. But there is a greater danger than commercial rivalry—criminal! The illicit-drug interest is growing in numbers and wealth. ”

“ On their left, in the very outskirts of Ecclesthorpe, was a little stone house, roofed with stone slabs, and surrounded with gardens, bee-hives and flowers. Upon a wooden arch connecting its stone gate-posts was written "Cyclists' Rest. Tea, Minerals."
"Um!" said Dick. "'Minerals' always makes me think of museums, but it only means ginger-pop and wuss. Tea's the thing, if brandy isn't."
He pushed the gate open; the hinges screamed, and a young woman came to the door of the cottage. As they went towards her through hives and wallflowers,
"How the bees do bumble!" said Amaryllis. ”

“ For his brown boots, brushed to the semblance of a shine, brown gaiters of the army cut, green cord riding-breeches which had delighted the heart of Tom Brundage until petrol prevailed over horseflesh and drove him into black; a striped waistcoat, of the old-fashioned waspish, horsey favour, partly buttoned over a grey army shirt and loosely covered by his own Norfolk jacket, with a knotted bandanna in place of collar, made of him an odd, but wholly credible nondescript of the lower sporting world. ”

“ At eleven minutes past five Dick Bellamy stopped Melchard's car outside the booking-office of somnolent Harthborough's dead-alive station—the junction of the single-line track to Whitebay and its bathing machines with the double-track branch of the G.N.R. from York to Caterscliff.
A hopeless porter languished against the hot bricks of the doorway. Dick came round between him and Melchard, peering down upon that sordid wreck of smartness. He turned to Amaryllis, who had followed him. ”

“ Two or three back-fire explosions answered her, and very soon the motor-cycle and side-car tore past the brake, alarming with its insolent speed even Dick's sober and industrious leader.
The machine was soon out of sight.
"Did they mean to scare poor Tod?" asked Amaryllis.
"He's only disgusted. No," said Dick. "All that fuss and stink is to get 'em to Gallowstree Dip before we pass it."
"But they don't know we're here," she objected.
"They don't know anything. If we turn off towards Harthborough Junction, or if anyone leaves the brake to walk that way, they'll follow." ”

“ Amaryllis thrust her hand deep into the Brundage pocket, rummaging.
"What an awful pouch!" he exclaimed.
"It is a bottomless pit, certainly. But it's much discreeter than yours are, Dick. They bulge so interestingly, and make you an awfuller sight than all the rest of your funny things together," she replied, laughing at him.
Successful at last, she produced the Browning pistol which Melchard had surrendered on the Roman road. "But it bumped horribly when I walked—and it would always knock the same place on my knee. Oh, Dick, shall we ever get into clothes that'll feel nice again?" ”

“ To punish me! Drag in! But me? Me? Me? I am not dragged. I lead."
"Really?" said Amaryllis.
"The head is mine. I plan. And, because you will never leave this place I do not mind to tell you that it is I have done it. All this. We have the New Drug. I hold the man that shall make it and sell it. I am the leader. I get the key. I catch you by the throat, there in The Manor House, my pretty, red-haired mistress! I catch you while my Melchard, who is clever, prick your arm with the needle. I—I—I!"
"Oh, yes," said Amaryllis. ”

“ He rose, and lifting Melchard's legs, made him lie at full length along the seat farthest from the engine and the motor-cyclists. Next, he drew down the little corner-blinds of each window, leaving the door-blinds up; then sat down again resuming his attitude of abstraction.
In the silence which followed Amaryllis watched him until confidence crept into her unawares, and she found herself becoming sleepily interested in smaller matters than life and death. She did not believe any longer that anyone could prevail against "Limping Dick." ”

“ I ought to begin."
"You began when you found me crying in Randal's study, Dick."
"Oh, it's easy to make people less wretched," he objected. "That's why yesterday was, on the whole, a success. But—are you happy?"
"Awfully! Oh, just awfully!" murmured Amaryllis.
"There it is!" sighed Dick, with the humour which she knew already for the natural shell of some wise little kernel. "And I've got to give you, as you give me, the keen edge of appetite for all the world and for all the people that play about in it. The stuff's all there, but——"
"Why, Dick, it's the same thing, after all, as yesterday. ”

“ The letters from Melchard's pocket were still in her hand. He took them, and picked out a white envelope with no writing on it. The wax seal had been broken.
He drew from it a sheet of paper, and unfolded it before her.
"That's the formula—it must be," said Amaryllis.
"Let's hook it, then," said Dick, buttoning the package and envelope into his hip-pocket, and slipping the rest of Melchard's papers into the side pocket of his own jacket, hanging loosely on Amaryllis.
As they crossed the hall he missed Ockley.
"My God!" he cried. "The black bloke's gone. Did you see him go—or hear him?" ”