George Barr McCutcheon

“ The true spirit of womanhood revolted with its usual waywardness.
She was flying down the stony road, some distance from the cottage, in the very face of the coming tornado, her heart beating like a trip-hammer, her eyes bent on the little light up the mountain-side, before it occurred to her that this last flight was not only senseless but perilous. She even laughed at herself for a fool as she recalled the tell-tale handbag on the porch and the damning presence of a Bazelhurst lantern in the hallway. ”

“ She began to loathe herself more than she pitied her brother. Something like a smile came into her clouded face as she speculated on Randolph Shaw's method of handling Evelyn Banks had she fallen to him as a wife. The quiet power in that man's face signified the presence of a manhood that—ah, and just here it occurred to her that Lady Bazelhurst felt the force of that power even though she never had seen the man. She hated him because he was strong enough to oppose her, to ignore her, to laugh at her impotence. ”

“ Lady Bazelhurst was saying to herself, as she sat, narrow-eyed and hateful, in her window looking out into the night. “Life is too easy here.” The light from the porch lanterns cast a feeble glow out beyond the porte-cochère and down the drive. As she stared across the circle, the figure of a woman suddenly cut a diametric line through it, and lost itself in the wall of blackness that formed the circumference. Lady Evelyn started and stared unbelievingly into the darkness, striving to penetrate it with her gaze. “It was she—Penelope,” she cried, coming to her feet. ”

“ The ways of fortune are strange, look at them from any point of view. Surprising as it may seem, a like encounter happened on the following day and—aye, on the day after and every day for a week or more. Occasions there were when Penelope was compelled to equivocate shamefully in order to escape the companionship of the duke, the count, or others of their ilk. Once, when the guardian of the road was late at his post, she rode far into the enemy's country, actually thrilled by the joy of adventure. When he appeared far down the road, she turned and fled with all the sensations of a culprit. ”

“ Penelope looked him over critically.
“I'll admit that you're larger and younger than Cecil,” she confessed grudgingly. “But they say Mr. Shaw is a giant-killer.” The duke dropped his monocle and guffawed loudly.
“Good!” he cried in the ecstasy of pride. His worn, dissipated face lighted up with unwonted interest. “I say, Pen, that's the nicest thing you've said to me in a week. You've been so deuced cold of late. I don't understand. I'm not such a bad lot, you know.”
“Tell that to Mrs. De Peyton and Mrs. Corwith. They're looking for the good in everything.” ”

“ Shaw was not quite creditable to Bazelhurst arms. She listened with pensive indifference to the oft-repeated story of how he had routed the “insufferable cad,” encouraged by the support of champagne and the solicited approval of two eye-witnesses. She could not repress the mixed feelings of scorn, shame, and pity, as she surveyed the array of men who so mercilessly flayed the healthy, fair-faced young man with the gentle strength.
The house party had been augmented during the day by the arrival of half a dozen men and women from the city, brain-fagged, listless, and smart. ”

“ In the hallway they paused to look out over the broad porch. The storm had died away, sighing its own requiem in the misty tree-tops. Dawn was not far away. A thick fog was rising to meet the first glance of day. In surprise Shaw looked at his watch, her face at his shoulder. It was after five o'clock.
“Ghosts turn in at midnight, dear,” he said with a cheerful smile. “They don't keep such hours as these.”
“But who can it be? There are no tramps in the mountains,” she protested, glancing over her shoulder apprehensively.
“Listen! By Jove, that voice came from the cellar.” ”

“ You scarcely can stand up.”
“Now, Evelyn, you do me injustice. I'm only holding to this chair to keep it from moving 'round the room. See that? Course I c'n stan' up,” he cried, triumphantly.
“I am utterly disgusted with you. Oh, for a man! A man with real blood in his veins, a man who could do something besides eat and drink at my cost. I pay your debts, clothe you, feed you—house your ungrateful sister—and what do I get in return? This!”
Lord Bazelhurst's eyes steadied beneath this unexpected assault, his legs stiffened, his shoulders squared themselves in a pitiful attempt at dignity. ”

“ She was, at first, too deeply amazed to resent the sharp attack.
“Penelope Drake!” was all she could say. Then the fury in her soul began to search for an outlet. “How dare you? How dare you?”
“I don't mean to hurt you, I am only telling you that your way of treating this affair is a mistake. It can be rectified. You don't want to be lawless; you don't understand what a narrow escape from murder you have had. Evelyn, you owe reparation to Mr. Shaw. ”

“ Hang it all, what's he like? He's like an ass, that's all. I've never seen him, but if I'm ever called upon to—but you don't care to listen to details. You remember the big log that lies out in the river up at the bend? Well, it marks the property line. One half of its stump belongs to the Shaw man, the other half to m—to us, Evelyn. He shan't fish below that log—no, sir!” His lordship glared fiercely through his monocle in the direction of the far-away log, his watery blue eyes blinking as malevolently as possible, his long, aristocratic nose wrinkling at its base in fine disdain. ”

“ The two on the porch watched his approach in amazed silence.
“It's Cecil!” whispered Penelope in horror-struck tones. “Good heaven, Randolph, go to him! He is hurt.”
It was Lord Bazelhurst. As Shaw hurried down the drive to meet him, no thought of the feud in mind, two beings even more hopelessly dilapidated ventured from the wood and hobbled up behind the truce-bearer, who had now paused to lift his shoulders into a position of dignity and defiance. Shaw's heart was touched. The spectacle was enough to melt the prejudice of any adversary. Lord Cecil's knees trembled ”

“ The duke had some difficulty in keeping abreast of her during the ride and he lost sight of her altogether after they dismounted at Bazelhurst Villa.
The momentary glimpse of a real man set Penelope's opinions on edge for the remainder of the day and night. Shaw, whatever else he might be, was a man. Even while others addressed her in conversation she was absent-mindedly recalling to memory certain English gentlemen at home who could stand comparison with this handsome fellow across the danger line. But to compare any one of the men in Lady Bazelhurst's house party oh, it was absurd! ”

“ The house was dark and still. No one was stirring. The porch was littered with rugs and cushions, while on a small table near the end stood a decanter, a siphon, and two glasses. Two? He had said he was alone except for the housekeeper and the servants. A visitor, then. This was not what she had expected. Her heart sank. It would be hard to face the master of the house, but—a stranger? Cigarette stubs met her bewildered, troubled gaze—many of them. Deduction was easy out there in the lonely night. It was easy to see that Shaw and his companion sat up so late that the servants had gone to bed. ”

“ Ten minutes later they were sitting before a roaring fire, quite content even though there was a suggestion of amazed ghosts lurking in the hallway behind them. No doubt old man Grimes and his wife, if they awoke in the course of the night, groaned deep prayers in response to the bright light from the windows of the haunted house. Shaw and Penelope smiled securely as they listened to the howling storm outside. ”

“ Permit me,” and he politely grasped the bridle rein. To her amazement he deliberately turned and began to lead her horse, willy nilly, down the road, very much as if she were a child taking her first riding lesson.
“What are you doing, sir? she exclaimed sharply. There was a queer flutter of helplessness in her voice.
“Putting you off,” he answered laconically. She laughed in delight and he looked up with a relieved smile. “I'm glad you don't mind. I have to do it. These feuds are such beastly things, you know. One has to live up to them whether he likes it or not.” ”

“ Mud-covered, water-soaked, and bruised, their clothes rent in many places, their hats gone and their hair matted, their legs wobbly, the trio certainly inspired pity, not mirth nor scorn.
“One moment, sir,” called his lordship, with a feeble attempt at severity. His voice was hoarse and shaky. “We do not come as friends, dem you. Is my sister here?”
“She is, Lord Bazelhurst. We 'll talk this over later on,” said Shaw in his friendliest way. “You are worn out and done up, I'm sure—you and your friends. Come! I'm not as bad as you think. ”

“ The horse plunged obediently, but came to a stop with a jerk that almost unseated the rider; the sapling swayed; the good but forgotten rein held firm.
“Ha!” gasped his lordship as the horrid truth became clear to him.
“Charge, Bonaparte!” shouted the man in the road.
“Soldiers?” cried the rider with a wild look among the trees.
“My dog,” called back the other. “He charges at the word.”
“Well, you know, I saw service in the army,” apologized his lordship, with a pale smile. “Get ep!” to the horse.
“What's your hurry?” asked Shaw, grinning broadly as he came up to the log. ”

“ You and Cecil had no right to order Tompkins to shoot at Mr. Shaw. He is not a trespasser. Some one killed his dog to-day. When he pursued the coward, a second shot was fired at him. He was wounded. Do you call that fair fighting? Ambushed, shot from behind a tree. I don't care what you and Cecil think about it, I consider it despicable. Thank God, Cecil was not really to blame. It is about the only thing I can say to my brother's credit.”
Lady Bazelhurst was staring at her young sister-in-law with wide eyes. ”

“ A man, by George, but he looks like a partridge. As I live, Bonaparte is pointing. Ha, ha, that's one on you, Bony.” Mr. Shaw stepped into the brush at the side of the path and watched the movements of the man at the “log,” now less than one hundred yards away.
Lord Bazelhurst, attired in his brown corduroys and his tan waistcoat, certainly suggested the partridge as he hopped nimbly about in the distant foreground, cocking his ears from time to time with all the aloofness of that wily bird. ”

“ CHAPTER III—IN WHICH A DOG TRESPASSES Penelope was a perverse and calculating young person. She was her own mistress and privileged to ride as often as she pleased, but it seemed rather odd—although splendidly decorous—that she did not venture upon Mr. Shaw's estate for more than a week after her first encounter with the feudal baron. If she found a peculiarly feminine satisfaction in speculating on his disappointment, it is not to be wondered at. Womanly insight told her that Randolph Shaw rode forth each day and watched with hawk-like vigilance for the promised trespasser. ”

“ But the coward was not so generous when it came to the life of his innocent, harmless dog. He killed the poor thing. Evelyn, it's—it's like murder.”
“Oh,” cried her ladyship, relieved. “He killed the dog. I daresay Mr. Shaw has come to realize at last that we are earnest in this. Of course I am glad that the man is not badly hurt. Still, a few shot in the arm will hardly keep him in bounds. His legs were intended,” she laughed lightly. “What miserable aim Tompkins must take.”
“He's a bit off in his physiology, my dear,” said Cecil, with a nervous attempt at humour. ”