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Silent Battle

<h2>XX THE INTRUDER</h2></div> And when the man had gone her voice came back to her with surprising clearness. “You were going, I think you said, Nellie, dear. So sorry. If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll hurry upstairs. I’m dining out and——” “Jane!” Gallatin’s voice broke in. “Don’t go. Give me a chance—just half an hour—ten minutes. I won’t take more than that—and then——” “I’m sorry, but——” “You wouldn’t see me or reply to my letters, and so I had to choose some other way. Give me a moment,” he pleaded. “You can’t refuse me that.” “I don’t see—how anything that you say can make the slightest difference—in anything, Mr. Gallatin,” she said haltingly. “We both seem to have been mistaken. It’s very much better to avoid a—a discussion which is sure to—to be painful to us both.” “What do you know of pain,” he whispered, “if you can’t know the pain of absence? Nothing that you can say will hurt more than that, the pain of being ignored—forgotten—for another. I have stood it as long as I can, but you needn’t be afraid to tell me the truth. If you say that you love—that you’re going to marry Van Duyn, I’ll go—but not until then.” “Mrs. Pennington is waiting for you, I think,” she gasped. But when she turned and looked into the drawing-room Mrs. Pennington was nowhere to be seen. [237] “No,” he went on quickly. “She has gone. I asked her to. Oh, Jane, listen to me. I made a mistake—under the impulse of a foolish moment. I’ve been a fool—but I’m not ashamed of my folly. Perhaps it shocks you to hear me say that. But I’m not ashamed—my conscience is clear. Do you think I could look you in the eyes if there was any other image between us? Call me thoughtless, if you like, careless, inconsiderate of conventions, inconsiderate even of you, but don’t insult yourself by imputing motives that never existed—that never could exist while you were in my thoughts. Oh, Jane, can’t you understand? You’re the life—the bone—the breath of me. I have no thought that does not come from you, no wish—no hope that you’re not a part of. What has Nina Jaffray to do with you and me? If I kissed her it was because—because——” He stopped and could not go on. “That is precisely what I want to know,” she said coolly. “I—I can’t tell you.” “No,” she said dryly. “I thought not. Miss Jaffray has every reason to be flattered at your attitude. I can only be thankful that you at least possess the virtue of silence—that you really are man enough to preserve the confidence of the women of your acquaintance. Otherwise, I myself might fare badly.” “Stop, Jane!” he cried, coming forward and seizing her by the elbows. “It’s sacrilege. Look up into my eyes. You dare not, because you know that I speak the truth, because you know that you’ll discover in them a token of love unending—the same look that you’ve always found there, because when you see it you will recognize it as a force too great to conquer—too mighty to be argued away for the sake of a whim of your injured pride. Look up at me, Jane.” [238] He had his arms around her now; but she struggled in them, her head still turned away. “Let me go, Mr. Gallatin,” she gasped. “It can never be. You have hurt me—mortally.” “No. I’ll never let you go, until you look up in my eyes and tell me you believe in me.” “It’s unmanly of you,” she cried, still struggling. “Let me go, please, at once.” Neither of them had heard the opening and closing of the front door, nor seen the figure which now blocked the doorway into the hall, but at the deep tones which greeted them, they straightened and faced Mr. Loring. “I beg your pardon, Jane,” he was saying with ironical amusement. “I chose the wrong moment it seems,” and then in harsher accents as Gallatin walked toward him. “You! Jane, what does this mean?” Miss Loring had reached the end of the Davenport where she stood leaning with one hand on its arm, a little frightened at the expression in her father’s face, but more perturbed and shaken by the fluttering of her own heart which told her how nearly Phil Gallatin had convinced her against her will that there was nothing in all the world that mattered except his love and hers. Her father’s sudden appearance had startled her, too, for though no words had passed between father and daughter, she knew that her mother had already repeated the tale of her romance and of its sudden termination. She tried to speak in reply to Mr. Loring’s question, but no words would come and after a silence burdened with meaning she heard Phil Gallatin speaking. “It means, Mr. Loring,” he was saying steadily, “that I love your daughter—that I hope, some day, to ask her to be my wife.” Loring came into the room, his eyes contracted, his[239] bull neck thrust forward, his face suffused with blood. “You want to marry my daughter? You! I think you’re mistaken.” He stopped and peered at one and then the other. “I’ve heard something about you, Mr. Gallatin,” he said more calmly. “Your ways seem to be crossing mine more frequently than I like.” “I hardly understand you,” said Gallatin clearly. “I’ll try to make my meaning plain. We needn’t discuss at once the relations between you and my daughter. Whatever they’ve been or are now, they’re less important than other matters.” “Other matters!” Gallatin exclaimed. Jane had straightened and came forward, aware of some new element in her father’s antipathy. Loring glanced at her and went on. “For some weeks past I’ve been aware of the activity of certain interests that you or your pettifogging little firm represent in regard to the plans of the Pequot Coal Company. I’ve followed your movements with some curiosity and read the letters you’ve written to the New York office with not a little amazement.” “You have read them?” “Yes, I. I am the Pequot Coal Company, Mr. Gallatin.” Gallatin drew back a step and glanced at Jane. “I was not aware——” he began. “No, I guess not. But it’s about time you were,” Loring chuckled. He walked the length of the room and back, his hands behind him, passing Jane as though he was unaware of her existence, his huge bulk towering before Gallatin again. “You are trying to stop the sale of the Sanborn mines,” he sneered. “You’re meddling, sir. We tested that matter in the courts. The court records——” [240] “Your courts, Mr. Loring,” put in Gallatin, now thoroughly aroused. “I’m familiar with the evidence in the case you speak of.” “My courts!” Loring roared. “The Supreme Court of the State! We needn’t discuss their decisions here.” “No, but we will discuss them—elsewhere,” he said soberly. He stopped and, with a quick change of voice. “Mr. Loring, you’ll pardon me if I refuse to speak of this further. I’m sorry to learn that——” “I’m not through yet,” Loring broke in savagely, with a glance at Jane. “We’ve known for some time that the Sanborn case was in the hands of Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin, and we’ve been at some pains to keep ourselves informed as to any action that would be taken by your clients. We know something about you, too, Mr. Gallatin, and we have followed your recent investigations with some interest and not a little amusement. If we ever had any fear of a possible perversion of justice in this case, through your efforts, I may say that it has been entirely removed by our knowledge of your methods and of the personal facts of your career.” “Father!” Jane’s fingers were on his arm, and her whisper was at his ear, but he raised a hand to silence her, putting her aside. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/image04.jpg" width-obs="400" height-obs="600" alt="" title="" /> <div class="caption">“‘Father!’ Jane’s... whisper was at his ear.”</div> </div> “You’re aligning yourself with a discredited cause, sir. Your case is a bubble which I promise to prick at the opportune moment. The tone of your letters requesting an interview with a view to reopening the case is impertinent. The compromise suggested is blackmail and will be treated as such.” Gallatin flushed darkly and then turned white at the insult. “Mr. Loring, I’ll ask you to choose your words more carefully,” he said angrily, his jaw set. [241] “I’m not in the habit of mincing words, and I’ll hardly spare you or the people who employ you for the sake of a foolish whim of a girl, even though she is——” “You must not, Father,” whispered Jane again, in tones of anguish. “You’re in your own house. You’re violating all the——” “Be quiet,” he commanded shortly, “or leave the room.” “I can’t be quiet. Mr. Gallatin for the present is my guest and as such——” “Whatever Mr. Gallatin’s presence here means, there’s little doubt——” “I—I asked him to come here,” Jane stammered. “I beg you to leave us.” “No! If Mr. Gallatin has come here at your invitation, all the more reason that you, too, should hear what I have to say to him.” “I will not listen. Will you please go, Mr. Gallatin, at once?” Phil Gallatin, pale but composed, was standing immovable. “Thank you. If there’s something else your father has to say, I’ll listen to it now,” he said. “I can only hope that it will be nothing that he will regret.” Jane drew aside and threw herself on the divan, her head buried in her hands. “There’s hardly a danger of that,” said Loring grimly. “I’ll take the risk anyway. I’m in the habit of keeping my house in order, Mr. Gallatin, and I’m not the kind to stop doing it just because a duty is unpleasant. There seems to be something between you and my daughter. God knows what! I have known it for some days, but I haven’t spoken of it to her or hunted for you because I had reason to believe that she had had the good sense to forget the[242] silly romantic ideas you had been putting into her head. I see that I was mistaken. Your presence in this house is the proof of it. I’ll try to make my objections known in language that not only you but my daughter will understand.” With a struggle Gallatin regained his composure, folded his arms and waited. Jane raised her head, her eyes pleading, then quietly rose and walking across the room, laid her fingers on Phil Gallatin’s arm and stood by his side, facing her father. Mr. Loring began speaking, but she interrupted him quickly. “Whatever you say to Philip Gallatin, Father, you will say to me. Whatever you know of him—I know, too, past or present. I love him,” she finished solemnly. One of Gallatin’s arms went around her and his lips whispered, “Thank God for that, Jane.” And then together they faced the older man. Mr. Loring flinched and some of the purple went out of his face, but his lower lip protruded and his bulk seemed to grow more compact as the meaning of the situation grew upon him. His small eyes blinked two or three times and then glowed into incandescence. “Oh, I see,” he muttered. “It’s as bad as that, is it? I hadn’t supposed——” “Wait a moment, sir,” said Gallatin clearly. “Call it bad, if you like, but you haven’t a right to condemn me without a hearing.” Loring laughed. “A hearing? I know enough already, Mr. Gallatin.” Gallatin took a step forward speaking quietly. “You’re making a mistake. Whatever you’ve heard about me, I’ve at least got the right of any man to defend himself. You’ve already chosen to insult me in your own house. I’ve passed that by, because this is not the time[243] or place to answer. Kenyon, Hood and Gallatin are not easily intimidated—nor am I. I want you to understand that here—now.” His voice fell a note. “When I speak of myself it is a different matter. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, and I don’t much care, for in respect to one thing at least I’ll offer no excuse or extenuation. That’s past and I’m living in the hope that as time goes on, it will not be borne too heavily against me. But you’ve got to believe whether you want to or not that I would rather die than have your daughter suffer because of me.” “She has suffered already.” “No, no!” cried Jane. “Not suffered—only lived, father.” “And now you’ve quit, I suppose,” said the old man ironically, “reformed—turned over a new leaf. See here, Mr. Gallatin, this thing has gone far enough. I’ve listened to you with some patience. Now you listen to me! You’ve come into my house unbidden, invaded my privacy here and insinuated yourself again into the good graces of my daughter, who, I had good reason to believe, had already forgotten you. Your training has served you well. Fortunately I’m not so easily deceived. Until the present moment I have trusted my daughter’s good judgment. Now I find I must use my own. If she isn’t deterred by a knowledge of your history, perhaps I can supply her with information which will not fail. I can hardly conceive that she will overlook your conduct when it involves the reputation of another woman!” “Father!” Henry Loring had reached the drawing-room door and now stood, his legs apart, his fists clenched, his words snapping like the receiver of a wireless station. “Deny—if you like! It will have no conviction with[244] me—or with her. Look at her, Mr. Gallatin,” he said, his finger pointing. “There are limits even to her credulity. She will hardly be pleased to learn of the accident to the motor which obliged you and your companion—very opportunely, indeed, to spend the night in a——” “Stop, sir!” Gallatin’s hand was extended and his voice dominated. “Say what you like about me. I’ve invited that, but I’ll not listen while you rob a woman of her name.” Jane stood like an ivory figure in the pale light, her eyes dark with incomprehension, searching Gallatin’s face for the truth. “There was a woman?” she asked. Gallatin hesitated. “Yes, there was a woman. There needn’t be any mystery about that. I wasn’t aware that there had been any mystery. It was Nina Jaffray. We were stranded back in the country coming from the ‘Pot and Kettle.’ We found a farmhouse and stayed there. There wasn’t anything else to do. You can’t mean that you believe——!” Jane had turned from him and walked toward the door. “It hadn’t been my intention to mention the lady’s name,” Loring laughed. “But since Mr. Gallatin has seen fit to do so——” “You’re going too far, Mr. Loring. There are ways of reaching a man even of your standing in the community.” Loring chuckled. “I fancy that this is a matter which won’t be discussed elsewhere,” he said. Gallatin’s eyes sought Jane’s, who now stood in the[245] doorway into the hall, one hand clutching the silken hangings. “You can’t believe this, Jane? You have no right to. Your father has been told a sinful lie. It’s doing Nina a harm—a dreadful harm. Can’t you see?” At the mention of Nina’s name Jane’s lips twisted scornfully and with a look of contempt she turned and was gone. Gallatin took a few steps forward as though he would have followed her, but Loring’s bulky figure interposed. “We’ve had enough of this, sir,” he growled. “Let’s have this scene over. We’re done with you. You’ve played h—— with your own life and you’ll go on doing it, but you won’t play it with me or with any of mine, by G——. I’ve got your measure, Mr. Gallatin, and if I find you interfering here again, I’ll take some other means that will be less pleasant. D’ye hear? I’ve heard the story they’re telling about you and my daughter up in the woods. It makes fine chatter for your magpies up and down the Avenue. D—— them! Thank God, my daughter is too clean for them or you to hurt. It was a great chance for you. You knew what you were about. You haven’t lived in New York all these years for nothing. You thought you could carry things through on your family name, but to make the matter sure you tried to compromise my daughter so that——” Loring paused. Gallatin had stood with head bowed before the door through which Jane had disappeared. His ears were deaf to Loring’s tirade; but as he realized the terms of the indictment, he raised his head, stepped suddenly forward, his fists clenched, his eyes blazing into those of the older man, scarcely a foot away. In Phil Gallatin’s expression[246] was the dumb fury of an animal at bay, a wild light in his eyes that was a personal menace. Loring did not know fear, but there was something in the look of this young man who faced him which told him he had gone too far. Gallatin’s right arm moved upward, and then dropped at his side again. “You—you’ve said enough, Mr. Loring,” he gasped, struggling for his breath. “Almost more than is good—for both—for either of us. You—you—you’re mistaken, sir.” And then as though ashamed of his lack of control he turned aside, and took up his hat. Henry Loring strode to the wall and pressed his thumb to a bell. “I’ll stand by my mistakes,” he said more calmly. “You came to the wrong house, Mr. Gallatin, and I think you won’t forget it. I’d like you to remember this, too, and I’m a man of my word. You keep your fingers off my affairs, either business or personal, or I’ll make New York too hot to hold you,” and then as the man appeared, “Hastings, show this gentleman out!” <hr class="chap" /> [247] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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