Mr. Brand

“ Mr. Brand is much worse than he was before he went away, and he looks as if he were the bad, base man that Hugh Gordon says he is. I shall tell him at once that he’ll have to find another secretary.”
When she told her mother and sister that she had decided to look for another position, she had to face a chorus of amazed protests and she found it difficult to convince them of the soundness of her reasons. ”

“ Brand, whose views upon the subject of the idle rich were of a decided nature, looked up from a contest with a refractory nut, and regarded Timothy severely. Then, returning to his task, and having exposed the internal secrets of the engine, he plunged into an elaborate lecture, in his most oppressive and industrious-apprentice manner, upon big-ends and timing-gears. Philip did not interrupt. Mr. Brand was fond of the sound of his own voice, and was obviously enjoying his present unique opportunity of laying down the law to a wealthy and ignorant member of the despised upper classes. ”

“ Tell us more about Mr. Gordon, Harry.”
“Why, as I was saying, his manner isn’t so polished as Mr. Brand’s. In fact, he is so direct and positive that he seems a little curt, though I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be. He makes you feel that he’s very sincere, too. Mr. Brand seems to draw people to him without making any effort, but Mr. [Pg 157] Gordon is more compelling and something about him makes you take an interest in him and believe in him.”
“He impressed you a good deal, didn’t he, Harry?” said Isabella, looking at her sister thoughtfully. ”

“ CHAPTER XVIII Isabella Takes One More Ride Henrietta Marne looked curiously at the envelope bearing the stamp of Hugh Gordon’s business firm. “There is always a letter from Mr. Gordon just before Mr. Brand gets back,” she said to herself, “so I suppose he’ll be here some time today. If he does I’ll have to decide about leaving him. But there’ll be such a lot of work to do it won’t be fair for me to say anything about going till we get things straightened out again.”
On that same June morning Penelope Brand was reading a letter in a similar envelope. ”

“ Annister told me last week that Mr. Brand thinks he has found a jewel of a secretary—the best he’s ever had. I was waiting”—and a gleam of mirth sparkled in her eyes as she smiled fondly upon her sister—“to tell you until some day when you’d be feeling blue. But I just couldn’t wait any longer.”
Henrietta flushed with pleasure. “I’m so glad to know that! If he’ll just keep on being satisfied a few months longer, we’ll have this place paid for!”
[Pg 18]
“Oh, we’re going to pull through all right!” Isabella exclaimed, hopeful conviction in her tones and smile. ”

“ Lind, in his ordinary polished and easy manner, "I must not seek to detain you; for it is a cold night to keep horses waiting. But, Mr. Brand, Lord Evelyn dines with us to-morrow evening; if you have nothing better to do, will you join our little party? My daughter, I am sure, will be most pleased to make your acquaintance."
"Do, Brand, there's a good fellow;" ”

“ I wish Warren could have the advantage of a few lessons.”
“Bella!” exclaimed her mother reprovingly. “You ought not to speak that way of the man who is almost your husband. And Warren is such a good man, too!”
“So is Mr. Brand,” Isabella replied saucily, “awfully good, just too good to be true. ”

“ Don’t you know I’m just funning? Warren is the best man in the world, even if he hasn’t got bee-youtiful, caressing brown eyes, and I love him awfully, and we’re going to be married and live happily forever after. But, all the same, Felix Brand is perfectly lovely, and you think so too, now, don’t you, mother dear!”
“We all think alike about Mr. Brand, I’m sure,” she answered.
“Except Billikins,” amended Henrietta, [Pg 58] and then told them of the fox terrier’s disgraceful behavior. ”

“ Marne when, at her early bedtime, she bade Henrietta goodnight. “Wasn’t Bella charming! And so pretty she looked with her bright eyes and that dainty color in her cheeks! It made me wish Warren was here to see her. I suppose I’m dreadfully old-fashioned, Harry, but it always seems to me that if a woman is looking especially beautiful or charming it’s somehow just wasted if the man who loves her isn’t there to see it. Wasn’t it kind of Mr. Brand to take Bella out this afternoon! ”

“ The light shone back from the lustrous wide eyes of the grey.
Wood turned to Bard.
"Seems to me I've seen that hoss."
"Yes. I bought it from Duffy out at Drew's place."
"Oh! Friend of Mr. Drew?"
Half a life spent on the mountain-desert had not been enough to remove from Drew that distinguishing title of respect. The range has more great men than it has "misters."
"Not exactly a friend," answered Bard.
"Sail right. Long's you know him, you're as good as gold with me. Come on along to the barn and we'll knock down a feed for the hoss." ”

“ His whole character has changed so much in the last few months that he hardly seems to be the same man. I have an uneasy feeling that it isn’t wise for my sister to go with him, although it does seem the most innocent thing in the world, and the kindest, for him to stop at our house, when he has some business farther down the island, and take Isabella for a spin. She enjoys it so much and she has so few pleasures. And she and mother have such confidence in Mr. Brand that they feel sure he would never ask her to do anything that wasn’t perfectly all right. ”

“ Brander, your confidences are embarrassing.”
“Make him over to the hangman, sir. I give you my honour I’ll help you. Maybe I could prove his title to a fast place in Execution Dock.”
“I see. You are really a very admirable rascal. But, you’ll want your price?”
“Oh! without doubt.”
“And that is—no, no, Mr. Brander; not half the value of the stone?”
“It’s a damned risky business, Mr. Tuke. I play my life against a competence.”
“But, listen, my friend. What claim has any one of you to a share in the ruby?” ”

“ Grahame Fenlow, upon the sightliness of whose new chauffeur she and her sister were basing their hopes of keeping their maid of all work, had led the architect in his attempt to design a new house for her.
“Aren’t you afraid, mother,” exclaimed Mark Fenlow, from his seat beside Henrietta, “if you don’t decide pretty soon whether you want that dormer window in the cellar or the roof and whether the back porch is to be before or behind the house, [Pg 35] that Mr. Brand will be driven to try a new personality, or incarnation, or—or drink, or whatever you call it!” ”

“ Brandon would let a stranger go through his grounds? There is a hill back of the house that I should like to see.”
“Mr. Brandon!” exclaimed the tailor, shaking his head; “Mr. Brandon! There ain’t no Mr. Brandon now!”
“How is that?”
“Gone, Sir—ruined—died out.”
“Then the man that lives there now is not Mr. Brandon?”
“Nothing of the kind, Sir! He, Sir! Why he isn’t fit to clean the shoes of any of the old Brandons!”
“Who is he?”
“His name, Sir, is Potts.”
“Potts! That doesn’t sound like one of your old county names.”
“I should think not, Sir. Potts! ”

“ It’s to be expected that a young man will change as he grows up and enters upon his life’s work. But Mr. Gordon looks more as I used to think Felix would when he grew up, and something as my husband did when we were married, but still more—” she paused, searching his countenance with puzzled eyes. He started a little, as if pulling himself together.
“Now I know,” she exclaimed. “Penelope, Mr. Gordon looks like your Grandfather Brand! If you wore your hair longer, Mr. Gordon, and had no mustache, you’d look very like an old picture I have of him when he was young. ”

“ But it’s evident that Mr. Gordon, who knows him so well, hasn’t a very high opinion of him, except in his art.”
The telephone broke in upon her musing, and as she put the receiver to her ear and said “hello” she was almost as much astonished as delighted to hear in reply the voice of Felix Brand himself. He told her [Pg 203] that he had just got home, after another beastly trip into the back woods of West Virginia, where he had had an accident. ”

“ Brandon cares to stay here we will provide him a home, give him his board, but, as to supplying him with money, we ought not to do it."
[Pg 56]
"I agree with you, Grit, but I don't see how we can help it. Mr. Brandon is a man, and you are only a boy. ”

“ Noll raised a hand. "Don' speak of God," he said reprovingly. "You don' understand Him, Mr. Brander." Brander said nothing; and Noll's hand dropped and he whined: "Man can't do what he wants on his own ship...."
Brander said: "Do as you like, sir. I think you should let him stay. He means no harm...."
Noll waved his hand. "Oh, a'right," he agreed. "Say no more 'bout it at all. Let be. Keep'm; keep'm, Mr. Brander. But lis'en." He eyed Brander shrewdly. "Lis'en. I know one thing. He's goin' to knife me some night. I know. He's a murd'rer. And you're defending him.... ”

“ Brander,” said Olivia [Pg 27] producing it. “The wife of one of the curates at Streatham, where I live, or at least where I have been living,” she added, correcting herself, “knew Mrs. Brander some years ago. And she thought, as I was coming here all by myself, it would be pleasanter for me to know some one.”
“My sister-in-law would have helped you in a hundred ways,” said Mr. Brander, regretfully. “She is a very energetic woman, and loves to have some active work to do for anybody, if there is a little occasion to show fight over it. And there is in your case ”

“ Morgan stood behind the bar with a livid face and a fixed smile. His fingers still stiffly clutched the whisky bottle from which the last glass had been filled. Not another man in the room stirred from his place. Some sat with their cards raised in the very act of playing. Some had stopped midway a laugh. One man had been tying a bootlace. His body did not rise. Only his eyes rolled up to watch.
Dan darted under the outstretched arms of Silent, fairly heaved him up from the floor and drove him backwards. The big man half stumbled and half fell, knocking aside two chairs. ”

“ Yet a cold horror rose in her heart as she hurried. Had her father after all been right? What power had Dan, if he needed her, to communicate with this mute beast and send him to her? As she ran she wished for the day, the warm, clear sun—for these growing shadows of evening bred a thousand ghostly thoughts. Black Bart was running backwards and forwards before her as if he half entreated and half threatened her.
Her heart died within her as she came in sight of Morgan's place. There was only one horse before it, and that was the black stallion. ”

“ All she could say was: "Will you listen to me no more, Dan?"
"Here's where we say good-bye."
He took her hand and his eyes were as unfathomable as a midnight sky. She turned to her horse and he helped her to the saddle with a steady hand.
That was all. He went back to the willows, his right arm resting on the withers of Black Satan as if upon the shoulder of a friend. As she reached the top of the hill she heard a whistling from the willows, a haunting complaint which brought the tears to her eyes. She spurred her tired horse to escape the sound. ”

“ I am much concerned, however, for Mildred’s sake, with the nature of the thing behind it.”
Brand shot a quick, uneasy glance at him and moved restlessly in his chair. But there was no change in the customary, soft modulations of his voice or the urbanity of his manner as he replied: “Pardon me, Dr. Annister, but you are taking for granted something you have no right to assume. You know that I am an honorable man, accustomed to show at least ordinary regard for the truth. And therefore I say that you have no right to doubt my word on mere suspicion.” ”

“ While these things were passing, a merry scene was going forward in the area of cheerful light, beside the spring and before the door of the hut. A number of the youth of the village, young men and girls, had hurried up the hillside, impelled by curiosity to see Ethan Brand, the hero of so many a legend familiar to their childhood. Finding nothing, however, very remarkable in his aspect, nothing but a sunburnt wayfarer, in plain garb and dusty shoes, who sat looking into the fire, as if he fancied pictures among the coals,—these young people speedily grew tired of observing him. ”

“ Every man was on his feet instantly, with arms straining stiffly up. The muzzles of revolvers are like the eyes of some portraits. No matter from what angle you look at them, they seem directed straight at you. And every cowpuncher in the room was sure that he was the main object of Dan's aim.
"Morris!" said Dan.
"For God's sake, don't shoot!" screamed the sheriff. "I——"
"Git down on your knees! Watch him, Bart!"
As the sheriff sank obediently to his knees, the wolf slipped up to him with a stealthy stride and stood half crouched, his teeth bared, silent. ”

“ Let us drop down to Dover in the afternoon, and settle it there. Or what do you say to the Riviera? we should be sure to run against some people at one or other of the towns. Upon my life, if you had not turned up, I think I should have cut my throat before lunch-time."
"I have got something better for you to do than that," said the other; "I want you to see O'Halloran. Come along; I have a hansom here. We shall just catch him at Atkinson's, the book-shop, you know."
"Very well; all right," Brand said, briskly: this seemed to be rather a more cheerful business than cutting one's throat. ”