The Lady and the Pirate - Page 84/199

I stood looking at her lovely shoulders for some time, but she made no

sign.

"And therefore, finding you so fallen," I resumed, "finding you only,

after all, like the other worthless, parasitic women of the day, Miss

Emory--Helena, I mean--I resolved to do what I could to educate you.

And so I offer you the same footing that I do your nephew--good

wages, good fare, and an opportunity to see the world."

No answer whatever.

"Do you remember the Bay of Naples, at sunset, as we saw it when we

first steamed in on the old City of Berlin, Helena?"

No answer.

"And do you recall Fuji-yama, with the white top--remember the

rickshaw rides together, Helena?"

No answer.

"And then, the fiords of Norway, and the mountains? Or the chalk

cliffs off Dover? And those sweet green fields of England--as we rode

up to London town? And the taxis there, just you and I, Helena, with

Aunt Lucinda happily evaded--just you and I? Yes, I am thinking of

forcing Aunt Lucinda to walk the plank ere long, Helena. I want a

world all my own, Helena, the world that was meant for us, Helena,

made for us--a world with no living thing in it but yonder

mocking-bird that's singing; and you, and me."

"Could you not dispense with the mocking-bird--and me?" she asked.

"No," (I winced at her thrust, however). "No, not with you. And you

know in your heart, in the bottom of your trifling and fickle and

worthless heart, Helena Emory, that if it came to the test, and if

life and all the world and all happiness were to be either all yours

or all mine, I'd go anywhere, do anything, and leave it all to you

rather than keep any for myself."

"Go, then!"

"If I might, I should. But male and female made He them. I spoke of us

as units human, but not as the unit homo. Much as I despise you,

Helena, I can not separate you from myself in my own thought. We seem

to me to be like old Webster's idea of the Union--'one and

indivisible.' And since I can not divide us in any thought, I, John

Doe, alias Black Bart, alias the man you once called Harry, have

resolved that we shall go undivided, sink or swim, survive or perish.

If the world were indeed my oyster, I should open it for us both; but

saying both, I should see only you. Isn't it odd, Helena?"

"It is eleven-thirty," said she.

"Almost time for luncheon. Do you think me a 'good provider,' Helena?"

"Humph! Mr. Davidson was. While your stolen stores last in your stolen

boat, I suppose we shall not be hungry."

"Or thirsty?" She shrugged.

"Or barren of cork-tips of the evening? Or devoid of guitar strings?"