The Broad Highway - Page 166/374

His voice had sunk to a murmur again, and he drew a slow step

nearer to her.

"How wonderful you are, Charmian! I always loved your shoulders

and that round, white throat. Loved? Worshipped them,

worshipped them! And to-night--" He paused, and I felt, rather

than saw, that he was smiling. "And to-night you would have

killed me, Charmian--shot me--like a dog! But I would not have

it different. You have flouted, coquetted, scorned, and mocked

me--for three years, Charmian, and to-night you would have

killed me--and I--would not have it otherwise, for surely you can

see that this of itself must make your final surrender--even

sweeter."

With a gesture utterly at variance with his voice, so sudden,

fierce, and passionate was it, he sprang toward her with

outstretched arms. But, quick as he, she eluded him, and, before

he could reach her, I stepped between them.

"Sir," said I, "a word with you."

"Out of my way, bumpkin!" he retorted, and, brushing one aside,

made after her. I caught him by the skirts of his long, loose

coat, but, with a dexterous twist, he had left it in my grasp.

Yet the check, momentary though it was, enabled her to slip

through the door of that room which had once been Donald's, and,

before he could reach it, I stood upon the threshold. He

regarded me for a moment beneath his hat brim, and seemed

undecided how to act.

"My good fellow," said he at last, "I will buy your cottage of

you--for to-night--name your price."

I shook my head. Hereupon he drew a thick purse from his pocket,

and tossed it, chinking, to my feet.

"There are two hundred guineas, bumpkin, maybe more--pick them

up, and--go," and turning, he flung open the door.

Obediently I stooped, and, taking up the purse, rolled it in the

coat which I still held, and tossed both out of the cottage.

"Sir," said I, "be so very obliging as to follow your property."

"Ah!" he murmured, "very pretty, on my soul!" And, in that same

moment, his knuckles caught me fairly between the eyes, and he

was upon me swift, and fierce, and lithe as a panther.

I remember the glint of his eyes and the flash of his bared

teeth, now to one side of me, now to the other, as we swayed to

and fro, overturning the chairs, and crashing into unseen

obstacles. In that dim and narrow place small chance was there

for feint or parry; it was blind, brutal work, fierce, and grim,

and silent. Once he staggered and fell heavily, carrying the

table crashing with him, and I saw him wipe blood from his face

as he rose; and once I was beaten to my knees, but was up before

he could reach me again, though the fire upon the hearth spun

giddily round and round, and the floor heaved oddly beneath my

feet.