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Page 14
Mr. Trevlyn arose, came forward, and extended his hand. Arch stood erect,
his arms folded on his breast. He did not move, nor offer to take the
proffered hand. Mr. Trevlyn gave a start of surprise, and seizing a lamp
from the table, held it up to the face of the young man. Arch did not
flinch; he bore the insulting scrutiny with stony calmness.
The old man dashed down the lamp, and put his hand to his forehead. His
face was livid with passion, his voice choked so as to be scarcely
audible.
"Margie, Margie Harrison!" he exclaimed, "what is this person's name?"
"Archer Trevlyn, sir," answered the girl, amazed at the strange behavior
of the two men.
"Just as I thought! Hubert's son!"
"Yes," said Arch, speaking with painful calmness, "I am Hubert's son; the
son of the man your wicked cruelty murdered."
Mr. Trevlyn seized his cane and rushed upon his grandson; but Margie
sprang forward and threw her arm across the breast of Arch.
"Strike him, if you dare!" she said, "but you shall strike a woman!"
Mr. Trevlyn looked at her, and the weapon dropped to the floor.
"Margaret Harrison," he said, sternly, "leave this room. This is no place
for you. Obey me!"
"I am subject to no man's authority," she said, boldly; "and I will not
leave the room. You shall not insult a gentleman to whom I owe my life,
and who is here as my invited guest!"
"I shall defend myself! There is murder in that fellow's eye, if I ever
saw it in that of any human being!"
"I am answerable for his conduct," she said with proud dignity. "He
will do nothing of which a lady needs stand in fear. I brought him
here, ignorant of the relationship existing between you and him, and
unconscious of the truth that I should be called upon to defend him
from the causeless rage of his own grandfather."
Again the cane was uplifted, but Margie laid her hand resolutely upon it.
"Give it to me. Will you--you, who pride yourself upon your high and
delicate sense of honor--will you be such an abject coward as to strike
a defenceless man?"
He yielded her the weapon, and she threw it from the window.
"You may take away my defence, Margaret," said the old man, resolutely,
"but you shall not prevent me from cursing him! A curse be upon him--"
"Hold, sir? Remember that your head is white with the snows of time? It
will not be long before you go to the God who sees you every moment, who
will judge you for every sin you commit."
"You may preach that stuff to the dogs! There is no God! I defy him and
you! Archer Trevlyn, my curse be upon you and yours, now and forever!
Child of a disobedient son! child of a mother who was a harlot!"
Arch sprang upon him with a savage cry. His hand was on his throat--God
knows what crime he would have done, fired by the insult offered to the
memory of his mother, had not Margie caught his hands, and drawn them
away.
"Oh, Archer, Archer Trevlyn!" she cried, imploringly, "grant me this one
favor--the very first I ever asked of you! For my sake, come away. He is
an old man. Leave him to God, and his own conscience. You are young and
strong; you would not disgrace your manhood by laying violent hands on
the weakness of old age!"
"Did you hear what he called my mother, the purest woman the world ever
saw? No man shall repeat that foul slander in my presence, and live!"
"He will not repeat it. Forgive him. He is fretful, and he thinks the
world has gone hard with him. He has sinned, and those who sin suffer
always. It has been a long and terrible feud between him and yours. I
brought you here--let me take you away."
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