The City of Fire - Page 86/221

At last Harricutt, his chief accuser, mustered up his sharp little eyes

again from under the overhanging eaves of rough gray brow, and shot out

a disagreeable under lip: "We have sent for you, here, to-night, Mark Carter," he began slowly,

impressively, raising a loose jointed long forefinger accusingly, as he

gained courage, "to inquire concerning the incriminating reports that

are in circulation with regard to your character."

Mark turned his hard eyes toward the elder, and seemed to congeal into

something inflexible, impenetrable, as if he had suddenly let down a

cold sheet iron door between his soul and them, against which the

words, like shot or pebbles, rattled sharp and unharming and fell in a

shower at the feet of the speaker. There was something about his

bearing that became a prince or president, and always made a fault

finder feel small and inadequate. The minister felt his heart throb

with a thrill of pride in the boy as he stood there just with his

presence hurling back the suspicions that had met to undo him. His

stern young face was like a mask of something that had once been

beautiful with life, whose utter sorrow and hopelessness pierced one at

the sight. And so he stood and looked at Elder Harricutt, who shot him

one glance and then looking down began to fiddle with his watch chain,

halting in his speech: "They say--" he began again with a hiss, as he lifted his eyes, strong

in the consciousness that he was not alone in his accusation,--"They

say--!"

"Please leave what they say out of the question, Mr. Harricutt. What do

you say?" Mark's voice was cold, incisive, there was nothing

quailing in his tone.

"Young man, we can't leave what they say out of the question! It plays

a very important part in the reputation of the Church of Christ of

which you are an unworthy part," shot back the hard old man, "We are

here to know what you have to say concerning the things that are being

said openly about you."

"A man does not always know what is being said about him, Mr.

Harricutt." Still that hard cold voice, still indifferent to the main

issue, and ready to fight it.

"A man ought to!" snapped Harricutt impatiently.

Suddenly, without warning, the mask lifted, the curve of the lips drew

up at the left corner revealing the row of even white teeth, and a

twinkle at the corners of the gray, thoughtful eyes, giving in a flash

a vision of the merry mischief-loving boy he had been, and his whole

countenance was lit. Mark was never so attractive as when smiling. It

brought out the lovingness of his eyes, and took away the hard oldness

of his finely cut features.