Chapter 24

RESCUE.

Blake waited on the yacht, in the harbor of Liverpool. It was hard for him to sit idly by at such a time; but he felt that it was best. There was in his soul a great pity, to be sure--a great grief--a great horror-- yet there was there too a great, deep anger, and a wild resentment; for he loved the daughter of Jimmy Blair, you know; and it was not alone that Jack Schuyler was his friend; it was as well that he was her husband, and the father of her child. So he did not trust himself to go, then; for he knew that all that he might do, Dr. DeLancey could do, and more.

Dr. DeLancey went, then, alone. In London he found John Schuyler. He did not announce himself; he bullied and stormed and finally persuaded those who stood between him and his quarry, to let him go unannounced.

He did not knock. Instead he thrust open the door and entered. Schuyler was standing before the grate with its burden of glowing coals. He looked up. He started, rubbing his eyes as one who sees but doesn't believe that which his gaze tells him to be so.

"It's you!" he cried.

Dr. DeLancey nodded.

"Yes," he said, simply. "Jack, I've come to take you home. The yacht's waiting at Liverpool. Tom's boat, you know. Steam's up. So get your hat."

Schuyler raised his hand, protestingly.

"But," he began, "I--"

The doctor cried, explosively:

"Don't you try to argue with me, young man. I've neglected my practice and let everything go to the devil to come over here, and I don't want any of your dashed _buts_ thrown at me. You get your hat and coat and you come with me. D'ye hear me?"

"I can't go," said Schuyler.

The doctor brought his flat fist down upon the center table.

"Can't go!" he howled. "In about a split second I'll show you whether you can't or not. You get your hat and coat! Or," he went on, "come without 'em. It's all the same to me. Parks can pack up your things, and come on the 'Transitania,' to-morrow. You're coming now. D'ye hear me? You're coming now--this dashed instant!"

He advanced upon Schuyler, gripping him by the arm. Schuyler stood for a brief moment, doggedly. Then suddenly his head dropped forward upon his breast.

"Very well," he acquiesced, slowly. Suddenly his voice broke. He almost whispered:

"I'm glad you've come, doctor.... I was helpless--utterly helpless."

They took the train within the hour. And the following morning found the "Vagrant" at sea, with John Schuyler on board. Yet it was a different John Schuyler from the one they had known. He had refused to shake hands with either Blake, or the doctor. He did not mention the woman; nor did they. They tried to be toward him as they had always been--as though all that had happened alone in imagination.... He did not sleep; he ate but little; and he drank, some.

Blake was heart-sick--soul-sick. To see the man that he had known and loved as that man was! But Dr. DeLancey assured him:

"It'll take a year or two. But he'll be all right in the end."

And yet even Dr. DeLancey did not feel certain that it was the truth that he spoke.

In crossing, Schuyler spent much time on a long, long letter--a letter that required much rewriting. On landing, he mailed that letter to the daughter of Jimmy Blair.

As, on the pier, he separated from Blake and Dr. DeLancey, in spite of the insistent pleas of the one, and the testy commands of the other, that he come to live with them. He said, only:

"I shall go to a hotel. I shall stay there a fortnight. Don't come to see me. Don't let anyone come to see me. Don't even try to find out where I am. There's one thing, and only one, for me to do. I'm going to try to do it.... Sometime, I hope that I may shake hands with you, Tom. Sometime I want to shake hands with Dr. DeLancey. I want to tell you both all there is in my heart to tell you. But that time is not yet. God bless you for all that you've done for me."

And, white-lipped, moist-eyed, he left them.