The Last Woman Page 15

  CHAPTER XV

  ALMOST A TRAGEDY

  Morton's passion for the beautiful girl beside him had overcome hisdiscretion to such an extent that he was hardly responsible for whathe did. The exhilaration of this swift ride through the gatheringdarkness, the sense of nearness to the woman he believed he loved withevery force in him, the certainty that they were alone, and that, forthe moment at least, she was his sole possession, stirred up withinthe young ranchman's mind those elements of barbaric wildness whichhad grown and thrived to riotousness and recklessness during the lifehe had lived on the cattle-ranges of Montana, but which had been moreor less dormant during his Eastern experiences. He forgot, for themoment, the Sunday-night scene wherein he had promised to bePatricia's friend, and had ceased to be her lover; he remembered onlythat she was there beside him, with her terror-stricken eyes peeringinto his beseechingly, and that she looked more beautiful than evershe had before. But, more than all else, the influence she had hadover him was absent, and this was so because her haughty defiance andthe proud spirit she had hitherto manifested in her attitude weregone. He had never seen her like this before, with the courage takenout of her. It was a new and unknown quality, alluringly feminine,wholly dependent, that possessed her now. She was frightened. And soMorton forgot himself. He permitted the innate wildness of his ownnature to rule. He followed an impulse, as wild as it was unkind. Heseized her in his arms, and crushed her against him, raining kissesupon her cheeks and brow, and upon even her lips. Patrica strovebravely to fight him off; she struggled mightily to prevent thisgreatest of all indignities. She cried out to him, beseeching that herelease her, but he seemed not to hear, or, if he heard, he paid noheed, and, after a moment more of vain effort, Patricia's figuresuddenly relaxed. She realized the utter futility of her effort tohold the man at bay, and she was suddenly inspired to practise asubterfuge upon him. She permitted herself to sink down helplessly,into his confining grasp, and she became, apparently, unconscious.

  It was Richard Morton's turn to be frightened, then. On the instant,he realized what he had done. The enormity of the offense he hadcommitted against her rushed upon him like a blow in the face, and hereleased her, so that she sank back into the confining seat besidehim.

  "Patricia! Patricia!" he called to her. He seized her hands, andrubbed them; he turned them over and struck the palms of them sharply,for he had somewhere heard that such action would bring a person outof a swoon; but, although he struggled anxiously, doing whatsoever hecould to arouse her, and beseeching her in impassioned tones to speakto him, she seemed to remain unconscious, with her head lying backagainst the seat, her eyes closed, and her face paler than he had everseen it before.

  The car had stopped before the edge of a wood. Just beyond it, therewas a bridge over which they must have passed, had they continued ontheir way. Morton raised his head and looked despairingly about him.He saw the bridge, and experience taught him that there must be astream of water beneath it. With quick decision, he sprang from thecar and ran forward, believing that, if he could return with his capfilled with water, he might restore his companion to consciousness.Then, strange to relate, no sooner had he left the car than Patriciaopened her eyes, straightened her figure, and with a quick leapchanged her seat to the one beneath the steering-wheel. Sheaccomplished this while Morton was speeding away from her, toward thewater.

  She saw him arrive at the bridge and disappear down the bank, beneathit; and forthwith, she reversed the gear of the steamer, and openedthe throttle. The engine responded instantly, and at the imminent riskof wrecking the car, she backed it, and turned it, reversing and goingforward several times, before she quite succeeded in bringing itaround, within the narrow space. But, at last, she did succeed, and,just at the moment when the car was headed in the opposite direction,Richard Morton reappeared. He saw, at a glance, what had happenedduring his short absence. He understood that Patricia had outwittedhim, and he ran forward, shouting aloud as he did so.

  Patricia caught one glimpse of him over her shoulder, and saw that hecarried in his hands the cap he had filled with water to use inrestoring her to consciousness--a consciousness she had not for amoment lost, which now was so alert and manifest in effecting herescape.

  She paid no heed to his shouts. She opened the throttle wider andwider, and the steam roadster darted away through the darkness, withPatricia Langdon under the wheel, leaving Richard Morton, cap inhand, standing in the middle of the highway, gazing after her,speechless with amazement and more than ever in love with thecourageous young woman who could dare, and do, so much.

  Patricia Langdon was thoroughly capable of operating any automobile,as was demonstrated by this somewhat startling climax to theunpleasant scene through which she had just passed. Beneath hercustomary repose of manner, her outward self-restraint and herdignified if somewhat haughty manner, there was a spirit of wildness,which, for years, had found no expression, till now. But, the momentshe turned the car about and succeeded in heading it in the oppositedirection, the instant she realized that she was mistress of thesituation, which, so short a time before, had been replete withunknown terrors, she experienced all that sense of exhilaration whichthe winner of any battle must feel, when it is brought to a successfulissue. She heard herself laugh aloud, defiantly and with a touch ofglee, although it did not seem to her as if it were Patricia Langdonwho laughed; it was, perhaps, some hitherto undiscoverable spirit ofrecklessness within her, which called forth that expression of defiantjoy, which Richard Morton could not fail to hear.

  The night was dark, by now, and there were only the stars to light thenarrow way along which Patricia was compelled to guide the flying car;but she thought nothing of this, for she could dimly discern theoutlines of the roadway before her, and she believed she could followit to the main highway, without accident. Morton had not lighted hislamps. There had been no opportunity to do so. But the road was anunfrequented one; and Patricia, as she fled away from Morton, throughthe darkness, thought only of making her escape, not at all of thedangers she might encounter while doing so.

  Several times, she caught herself laughing softly at the recollectionof how she had triumphed over the daring young ranchman, and at thepredicament in which she had left him, standing there near the bridge,in a locality that was entirely unknown to him, from which he musthave some difficulty in finding his way to a place where he couldsecure another conveyance. He might know what it meant to be lefthorseless on the ranges of the West, but this would be a new and astrange--perhaps a wholesome--experience for him.

  Presently, she came to the turn of the road that would bring her uponthe main highway; and here she stopped the car, and got down from it,long enough to light the lamps. This done, she went on again, asswiftly as she dared, yet not too rapidly, because now she felt thatshe was as free as the air singing past her. The highway she traversedwas almost as familiar to her as the streets of New York City.

  The exhilaration she had experienced when she triumphed over RichardMorton and escaped from him, increased rather than diminished as shesped onward, and when, almost an hour later, she guided the carbetween the huge gate-posts which admitted it to the grounds ofCedarcrest, and followed the winding driveway toward the entrance tothe stone mansion, she was altogether a different Patricia Langdonfrom the one who had started out, in company with the young Westerner,shortly after five o'clock that afternoon.

  She brought the car to a stop under the _porte-cochere_, and announcedher arrival by several loud blasts of the automobile-horn; a momentlater, the doors were thrown open, and Sally Gardner rushed out toreceive her.

  "I am afraid I am late, Sally," Patricia called out, in a voice thatwas wholly unlike her usual calm tones. "Will you call someone to carefor the car?" Without waiting for a reply, she sprang from beneaththe wheel, and with a light laugh returned the impetuous embrace withwhich the young matron greeted her.

  In some mysterious manner, word had already been passed to the gueststhat Patricia Langdon had arrived in Richard
Morton's car, but alone;and so, by the time Patricia had released herself from Sally'sclinging arms, Roderick Duncan, followed by the others of the party,appeared in the open doorway. Duncan came forward swiftly, but hishost forestalled him in putting the question he would have asked.

  "I say, Patricia!" Jack Gardner called out. "What have you done withMorton? Where is Dick?"

  "Really, Jack, I don't know," replied Patricia, standing quite still,with her right arm around Sally's shoulders, and lifting her head likea thoroughbred filly. Mrs. Gardner's left arm still clung around herwaist. "Mr. Morton is back there, somewhere, on the road. If hedoesn't change his plans, he should arrive here, presently." Shelaughed, as she replied to the question, perceiving, at the moment,only the humorous side of it. She was still under the influence ofthat swift ride alone; still delighted by the thought of thepredicament in which she had left her escort, because of hisoutrageous conduct toward her.

  "Did you meet with an accident? Has anything happened to Mr. Morton?"inquired Agnes Houston.

  Patricia shrugged her shoulders, and, again laughing softly, withdrewfrom Sally's embrace and began to ascend the steps. One of theCedarcrest servants appeared at that moment, to take the car around tothe garage; and for some reason each member of the party steppedaside, one way or another, so that Miss Langdon was the one who ledthe way into the house, the others falling in behind her, andfollowing. The circumstance of her arrival in such a manner and thesuggestion of mystery conveyed in Patricia's answer to Jack Gardner'squestion convinced all that something had happened which needed anexplanation. Patricia's demeanor was so different from her usualhalf-haughty bearing, that it was, in a way, a revelation to them all.Each one there had his or her own conception of the occasion, andprobably no two opinions were the same; but at least they were allagreed on one point: that there had been a scene somewhere, and thatRichard Morton had got the worst of it.

  Patricia led the way to the dining-room. Her head was high, her eyeswere sparkling. Duncan hastened to her side, but she took no notice ofhis nearness. As she entered the room, she called out:

  "Do order some dinner served to me, Sally. I am as hungry as theproverbial bear. You see, I had anticipated a hearty dinner with you,and the long ride I have had--particularly that part of it which Ihave taken alone--has whetted my appetite."

  Sally nodded toward the butler, and waved him away, knowing that hehad overheard Patricia's words, and that she would speedily be served;the others of the party resumed their former seats around the table,and the practical Sally turned and faced Patricia, again, her eyesflashing some of the indignation she felt because of her guest'sevident reluctance to explain the strange circumstance of her arrivalat Cedarcrest alone.

  "Patricia Langdon," she said, "I think you might tell us what hashappened. We are all on edge with expectancy. Where is Dick Morton?"

  "Oh, he is somewhere back there on the highway, walking towardCedarcrest, I suppose," replied Patricia smilingly, dropping into achair beside the table.

  "Did you start out from New York together?" persisted Sally.

  "Oh, yes."

  "Won't you please tell us what has happened?"

  Patricia's lips parted, while she hesitated for a reply. She had nodesire to tell these people of the incidents that had actuallyoccurred. Many another, in her position, would have revealed at oncethe whole truth, and would have made these others acquainted with theconduct of Richard Morton, during that wild ride she had been forcedto take with him through the gathering gloom. But Patricia was notthat kind. She was quite conscious of the strangeness of her arrivalat Cedarcrest alone, in Morton's car, and of the wrong constructionswhich might be given to the incident. She knew that every man who waspresent in the room, would bitterly resent the indignities Morton hadput upon her, if she should relate the facts. But she believed thatMorton had been sufficiently punished. She even doubted if he wouldappear there, at all, now; and so, instead of replying to Sally'srepeated request, she shrugged her shoulders, and responded:

  "I think I'll leave the explanation to Mr. Morton, when he arrives."

  Food was placed before her at that moment and she transferred herattention to it; while her friends, perceiving that she was notinclined to take them into her confidence, started other subjects ofconversation, although the mind of each one of them was still intentupon what might have happened during Patricia's journey from New Yorkin the company of Richard Morton.

  Roderick Duncan had not resumed his seat at the table; he had remainedin the background, and had maintained an utter silence. But histhoughts had been busy, indeed. He knew and understood Patricia,better than these others did--with the possible exception of Beatrice,who also was silent. But, now, he passed around the table until hestood behind Patricia's chair. Then, he dropped down upon a vacant onethat was beside her, and, resting one elbow on the table, peeredinquiringly into the girl's flushed face, more beautiful than ever inher excitement. That strange feeling of exhilaration was still uponher, and there was undoubted triumph and self-satisfaction depicted inher eyes and demeanor.

  "What happened, Patricia?" he asked her, in a low tone, which theothers could not hear.

  "Nothing has happened that need concern you at all," she replied tohim, coldly.

  "But something must have happened, or you--"

  "If something did happen," she interrupted him, "rest assured that Ishall tell you nothing more about it, at the present time. If Mr.Morton chooses to explain, when he arrives, that is his affair, andnot mine. I am here, and I am unharmed. Somewhere, back there on theroad my escort is probably walking toward Cedarcrest; or, perhaps,away from it. You will have to be satisfied with that explanation,until he arrives--if he does arrive." She spoke with such finalitythat Duncan changed the character of his questioning.

  "I have not seen you, Patricia, since the receipt of your letter,fixing our wedding-day for next Monday," he persisted. "It now occursto me that, in the light of the contents of your letter, I have aright to ask you for an explanation of the incidents of to-night."

  Patricia turned her eyes for an instant upon him, and then withdrewthem, while she said, coldly:

  "If you have taken time to read carefully the stipulations in thecontract you signed yesterday morning, at Mr. Melvin's office, youwill understand why I deny your right to do so."

  "Has Morton affronted you in any way?"

  "Ask him. I have no doubt that he will answer you."

  "Patricia, are you going to persist in this attitude toward me, evenafter we are married?" Duncan inquired, anxiously. But, instead ofreplying, she raised her head in a listening attitude, and announcedto all who were present:

  "I hear the horn of an approaching automobile. Perhaps, Mr. Morton hascaught a ride."

  "Answer me, Patricia," Duncan insisted.

  "My conduct will be the answer to your question," she said, with herface averted.

  Jack Gardner hurriedly left the room, accompanied by Sally. A momentlater, when the automobile horn sounded nearer, Duncan left his placebeside Patricia, and followed. Melvin, the lawyer, also went out, andthen one by one the others, until Patricia was the only guest whoremained at the table. She continued to occupy herself with the foodthat had been placed before her, while the flush on her cheeksdeepened, her eyes shone with added brightness, and she smiled as ifshe were rather pleased than otherwise by the predicament in whichMorton would find himself, when he should be closely questioned byJack and Sally Gardner and the guests as well, whose curiosity, sheknew, would now far exceed their discretion.

  It never once occurred to her that Dick Morton, having had time tothink over the occurrences of the afternoon and evening, and torealize the enormity of the offense he had committed, would tell thetruth about it. Men within her knowledge, who belonged to the societywith which she was familiar, would temporize, under suchcircumstances, would seek, by diplomatic speech to shield the woman inthe case from the comment that must follow a revelation, would makeuse of well-chosen words to escape responsibilit
y for what hadoccurred; would practise a studied reserve until certain knowledgecould be obtained of what the woman might have said, upon her arrival.

  The doors had been left open, and Patricia was conscious of loud tonesproceeding from the veranda at the front of the house; of masculinevoices raised in anger; and then she heard the sound of a blow,followed instantly by a heavy fall. Almost at the same instant, thesharp crack of a pistol smote upon the air, for an instant stiffeningher with horror. She started to her feet in terror, her face gonewhite, her eyes dilated with apprehension. Then, she somehow stumbledto her feet, and stood there, trembling in every nerve, until shecould gather strength to run forward.

  A horrified and silent group of persons surrounded the principals inthe scene that had just occurred, for there had not yet been time forany of them to recover from the paralyzing effect of what hadhappened.

  Richard Morton was on the floor of the veranda where he had raisedhimself upon one elbow, and he still held in his right hand the smallrevolver from which the shot that Patricia had overheard, had come.Roderick Duncan was standing a few feet away, and he was holding inhis arms the limp form of Beatrice Brunswick, whose head had fallenbackward, as if she were unconscious, or dead. Just at the instantwhen Patricia caught a view of this strange tableau, the otherspectators threw off the momentary lethargy that had overpowered them,and rushed forward toward the principal actors in the scene that hadpassed, each shouting a different exclamation, but all alike in theirexpressions of horror and loathing for the man who was down--RichardMorton.