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Page 79
"Good night," said Florence faintly, a little dazed by all that he had
said to her. Then, running through the shadows to her home, she was
thinking of the boy who had wished to propose to her and of the man who
had done so; of Elmer's little home upon the knoll surrounded by a cow,
a horse, and some pigs . . . and of a big house like a palace looking
out to sea across the swaying masts of white-sailed, sea-going yachts!
CHAPTER XXI
A CRISIS
Like Norton, Virginia found life simplifying itself in a crisis. Upon
three hundred and sixty days or more of the average year each
individual has before him scores of avenues open to his thoughts or to
his act; he may turn wheresoever he will. But in the supreme moments
of his life, with brief time for hesitation granted him, he may be
forced to do one of two things: he must leap back or plunge forward to
escape the destiny rushing down upon him like a speeding engine
threatening him who has come to stand upon the crossing. Now Virginia
saw clearly that she must submit to Norton's mastery and remain silent
in the King's Palace or she must seek to escape and tell what she knew
or . . . Was there a remaining alternative? If so it must present
itself as clearly as the others. Action was stripped down to
essentials, bared to its component elements. True vision must
necessarily result, since no side issues cluttered the view.
She sat upon a saddle-blanket upon the rock floor of the main chamber
of the series of ancient dwelling-rooms, staring at the fire which
Norton had builded against a wall where it might not be seen from
without. The horses were in the meadow down by the stream; she and
Norton had tethered them among the trees where they were fairly free
from the chance of being seen. Norton was coming up, mounting the
deep-worn steps in the cliff side. He had gone for water; he had not
been out of sight nor away five minutes. And yet when she looked up to
see him coming through the irregular doorway she had decided.
She saw in him both the man and the gentleman. Her anger had died down
long ago, smothered in the ashes of her distress; now she summoned to
the fore all that she might in extenuation of what he did. She did not
blame him for the crimes which she knew he had committed because she
was so confident that the chief crime of all had been the act resulting
from Caleb Patten's abysmal ignorance. Nor now could she blame Norton
that, embarked upon this flood of his life, he saw himself forced to
make her his prisoner for a few hours. It was a man's birthright to
protect himself, to guard his freedom. And her heart gave him high
praise that toward her he acted with all deference, that with things as
they were, while he was man enough to hold her here, he was too much
the gentleman to make love to her. Would she have resisted, would she
have opposed calm argument against a hot avowal? She did not know.
"Virginia," he said gravely as he slumped down upon the far side of the
fire, "I feel the brute. But . . ."
Yes, she had decided, fully decided, whether if be for better or for
worse. Now she surprised him with one of her quick, bright, friendly
smiles while she interrupted:
"Let us make the best of a bad situation," she said swiftly. "I am not
unhappy right now; I have no wish to run half-way to meet any
unhappiness which may be coming our way. You are not the brute toward
me; what you do, I do not so much as censure you for. I am not going
to quarrel with you; were I in your boots I imagine I'd do just exactly
as you are doing. I hope I'd be as nice about it, too. And now,
before we drop the subject for good and all, let me say this: no matter
what I do, should it even be the betraying you into the hands of your
enemies, to put it quite tragically, I want you to know that I wish you
well and that is why I do it. Can you understand me?"
"Yes," he said slowly. "It's sweet of you, Virginia. If you got my
gun and shot my head off, I don't know who should blame you. I
shouldn't!" he concluded with a forced attempt to match her smile.
"Then we understand each other? As long as each does the best he can
see his way to do, the other finds no fault?" And when he nodded she
rose quickly and came to him, putting out her hand as he rose. "Rod
Norton," she said simply, and her eyes shone steady and clear into his,
"I wish you the best there is. I think we should both pray a little to
God to help us to-night. . . . And now, if you will run up to your
Treasure Chamber and bring down the coffee, I'll promise to be here
when you get back. And to make you a good hot drink; I feel the need
of it and so do you."
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