The Awakening of Helena Richie - Page 102/229

Benjamin Wright, in his mangy beaver hat, sitting quaking in his

library, heard their steps on the veranda. As soon as supper was over,

he had dismissed his rejoicing grandson, and long before it was

necessary, had bidden Simmons light the lamps; but as night fell, it

occurred to him that darkness would make things easier, and in a

panic, he shuffled about and blew them all out. A little later, he had

a surge of terror; he couldn't bear that voice in the dark!

"You! Simmons!" he called across the hall. "Light the lamps!"

"I done lit 'em, suh--" Simmons expostulated from the pantry, and then

looked blankly at the black doorway of the library. "I 'clare to

goodness, they's gone out," he mumbled to himself; and came in, to

stand on one leg and scratch a match on the sole of his carpet

slipper.

"Don't light all four, you stupid nigger!" the old man screamed at

him.

When Simmons left him he lit a cigar, his fingers trembling very much;

it went out almost at once, and he threw it away and took another.

Just as he heard that ponderous step on the veranda, he took a third--

[Illustration: Samuel slid into a chair near the door.] but only to

throw it, too, still smouldering, into the empty fireplace.

Dr. Lavendar came in first. His face was very grave; he made no

conventional pretence of ease. Behind him, in the doorway, loomed the

other figure. Out in the hall, Simmons, his bent old back flattened

against the wall, his jaw chattering with amazement, stood, clutching

at the door-knob and staring after the visitors.

"Come in!" said, Benjamin Wright. "Hello, Lavendar. Hello--"

Alas! at that moment Samuel's cracked and patched-up self-respect

suddenly crumbled;--his presence of mind deserted him, and scrambling

like an embarrassed boy into a marked discourtesy, he thrust both

hands into his pockets. Instantly he realized his self-betrayal, but

it was too late; his father, after a second's hesitation, occupied

both his hands with the decanter and cigar-box.

"Well; here we are, Benjamin!" said Dr. Lavendar.

"Take a cigar," said the very old man; he held the box out, and it

shook so that the loose cigars jarred within it. Dr. Lavendar helped

himself. "Have one--" Benjamin Wright said, and thrust the box at the

silent standing figure.

"I--do not smoke." Samuel slid into a seat near the door, and

balancing his hat carefully on his knees twisted one leg about the leg

of his chair.