CHAPTER XXIX.

FRED FILLMORE’S ADVANCES.

The young man regarded Inza with a peculiar look. His face was flushed and his manner unnatural.

“Good evening, Miss Burrage,” he bowed, with cool self-assurance. “This is a great pleasure, I declare.”

She detected something odd in his speech, and, being quick of wit, decided at once that he had been drinking. He wore a blue coat, light trousers, tan shoes, outing shirt and no waistcoat. His necktie was carelessly knotted. The evening was almost oppressively warm.

Inza caught her breath.

“You startled me,” she confessed.

“Did I? I beg your pardon. I couldn’t seem to find the button myself, although I should know where it is. Had I been able to find it I’d turned on the lights for you.”

“Oh, but you didn’t know——”

“I knew you were coming.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“Perhaps I heard your footsteps,” he answered evasively. “Perhaps I know the rustle of your garments. I assure you the sound to me was like the rustle of an angel’s wings.”

A shadow came to Inza’s face.

“When did you return to the city?” she asked.

“I arrived an hour ago.”

“You have seen your sister?”

“Not yet. There was some one here I longed to see far more than her. My desire has been gratified.”

“How did you get into the house?”

“With my own key, which I carried with me when I left.”

He held the key up.

“Mrs. Loder knew you were coming, I suppose?”

“Not through me.”

“Then you had better see her at once. She was much distressed because you left so suddenly without even bidding her good-by.”

“You know why I left. I did it for your sake.”

“For my sake?” cried Inza, in great surprise.

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“You know I had trouble with that fellow Merriwell.”

The dark eyes of the girl flashed.

“‘That fellow Merriwell!’” she exclaimed. “I do not like the manner in which you refer to him.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“You had better!”

“I couldn’t help saying it. You know I had trouble with him.”

“Which was your own fault.”

“Perhaps you think so, but I assure you that you are mistaken. If he had acted like a gentleman that day he accompanied us to Hastings’ on the Pimlico Road all would have been well.”

“‘If he had acted like a gentleman!’” Once more she quoted his words. “Frank Merriwell always acts like a gentleman. It is natural for him.”

“I presume you think so, but the fellows in that party universally agreed that he behaved like a cad. Why, he pretended to drink with us, but he took water instead of gin.”

“He told you at the start that he did not drink, but you insisted. You tried to force it upon him. Why? Because you had arranged a miserable scheme to make him ridiculous. You hoped to get him full and then to pit him against a prize fighter and a slugger. You thought you were fooling him, but he fooled you. That is why you say he did not act like a gentleman. Shame on you, Fred Fillmore! It was you who behaved like anything other than a gentleman.”

She was aroused and he was beginning to feel the sting of her scorn.

But, strange as it seems, he liked it!

Why?

Because, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing indignation, she was far handsomer than ever before in his eyes, and he had thought her the handsomest girl in all the world. He felt his blood taking fire as she stood before him glowing with indignation in her defense of Frank.

“I don’t blame you for thinking that,” he said. “Of course he told you anything he pleased, and you believed him.”

“He never told a lie in all his life!”

“Is that so? A second George Washington, it seems! I’ll not attempt to undeceive you.”

“It would be quite useless.”

“If I had remained in Baltimore I’d felt it necessary to give Mr. Merriwell all that was due him. A quarrel with him would have made your position here in my sister’s home far from pleasant, and so I saw fit, on your account, to leave the city. I longed to smash his face.”

“You tried to smash his head on the field in the game, and you did give him a scalp wound.”

“That was an accident.”

“It was not!” denied the girl positively. “I was watching closely, and I saw you strike him over the head with your stick.”

“Had I done it intentionally the referee would have put me out of the game.”

“He warned you. You did not tell the truth when you protested that it was unintentional. Frank was angry. You know you skipped from Baltimore after the game because you did not dare remain here and face him.”

He laughed, snapping his fingers.

“Of course he impressed you with that idea. He is a great boaster. I left the city for the reason I have stated. I remained away as long as I could. Your eyes have haunted me, Inza. I have thought of you by day and dreamed of you by night. I could not forget you, even though I tried. I became desperate. At last I felt that I must see you again, and here I am. The real truth is that I’m in love with you, Inza—madly in love with you!”

In vain she tried to check this declaration. He spoke swiftly, intensely, passionately, his own eyes fairly burning with the intensity of his emotion. His voice shook and he felt himself all aquiver. He advanced toward her, but she flung up a repulsing hand.

“Keep away!” she exclaimed, falling back. “Are you out of your senses?”

“Perhaps I am,” he hoarsely admitted. “I believe I am. Only one person in the world can restore me to my normal condition, and you are that one, Inza.”

She would have retreated to the door by which she had entered the room, but, stepping quickly in her way, he prevented the movement.

“Don’t go!” he entreated. “At first I felt it was folly to even think of you; but I could not help it, and I had to think. The more I thought the more desperate I became. I’ve known plenty of girls in my day, but never one who has thrown a spell on me as you have. I began to consider coming here and telling you everything. That seemed folly, also. I said I would not. Then I began to fancy myself a coward unless I spoke. I grew more desperate. I fought against the influence that was drawing me to you, but I could not overcome it. Finally I rushed for the train, without preparation, without further hesitation, and here I am. Don’t be afraid of me. I want to marry you, Inza! My mother has promised to set me up in business as soon as I graduate. When my father died he left a fortune in trust for me. I am not a poor student with no prospects ahead of me. I can support you. I——”

She stopped him at last.

“Mr. Fillmore,” she said, “it is useless for you to go on. Stop! I am to be the wife of Frank Merriwell. I am engaged to him, and we are to be married very soon.”

“I hope not!” he cried. “I hope I’ll never live to see that! You can break the engagement with him.”

“You must be deranged to think I would do such a thing. My poor boy, don’t deceive yourself. I love Frank Merriwell, and I do not care for you.”

“Don’t call me ‘poor boy!’” he panted. “That hurts! I’ve been pitying myself until I realized I was a fool and that the only thing for me to do was win you from him. That I will do, somehow! I must, for I am one who has his way. You don’t know the blood of the Fillmores. My father before me was a man who always had his own way. He started out a poor boy, but he resolved to be rich, and he became rich. All his life when he wanted a thing he found a way to obtain it. All my life I have been the same. I want you, and I’m going to have you! Heaven and earth shall not prevent me!”

Inza knew he was in a dangerous mood, but she was not one to hurt a person’s feelings needlessly. The fact that she had aroused in his breast such a passion was enough to cause her to treat him as kindly as possible. A short time before she had been full of scorn, but now she repressed this and held it in check.

“Let me reason with you,” she said. “You must understand the absolute hopelessness of your love, as you call it. Perhaps it is not love at all. It must be infatuation. In a little while you will forget me, or, if you remember, you will be thankful that you did not succeed.”

“Never!”

“Oh, yes, you will! You are too young to marry. You have not yet made a start in the business world. I am older than you. You should not marry for some years to come, and then you should choose a wife some years younger than yourself.”

“That’s all rot! There’s not much difference in our ages—not enough to raise the slightest barrier between us. Even if you were old enough to be my mother, I’d love you just the same!”

She could not refrain from smiling a bit at this, for it struck her as ridiculous.

“Don’t laugh at me!” he exclaimed. “I’m no boy! I’m twenty-one!”

“Gracious! You’ll soon be growing decrepit and senile.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” he repeated. “It hurts!”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but I want to make you understand. What you wish can never be.”

“If Merriwell were out of the way——”

“Even then it could never be, for I do not love you.”

“You might—you might in time! I’d make you love me! I’d find a way!”

“You could not. You can’t make a girl love you by commanding it. You’ll simply succeed in causing her to fly from you.”

“If you fly from me, even as Apollo pursued Daphne will I pursue you.”

“Have you forgotten what happened when at last Apollo overtook Daphne? He did not succeed in his desires, for she was changed into a laurel tree, and his reward was bitter disappointment.”

“How much more bitter would have been his feelings had he seen her captured by another! As Apollo was wounded by Cupid’s dart thus have I been wounded. Inza, listen to me, I beg! Put off your marriage with Merriwell for a time. Your feelings toward him may change. Perhaps—perhaps——”

“It is folly for you to dream of such a thing.”

“Then let me enjoy the sweet hope of folly for a time. Frank Merriwell is going to Mexico soon. Wait until he returns, and then, if you still——”

“You do not understand. Fate has caused us to put off the event more than once.”

“But your plans are not coming out as you had intended. There will be no double marriage, for Elsie cannot——”

“How do you know about this?”

“How do I know? I’ll tell you. After entering this house I was making my way to my room. I had to pass the door of the room occupied by you and Elsie. The door was a bit ajar. I heard you talking, and I could not help pausing——”

In a moment her anger rose again.

“So you listened! You played the eavesdropper!”

“I couldn’t help it, for I heard you speaking of Merriwell. That name stopped me in my tracks. I beg a thousand pardons. I heard you say you were coming here for a book, and I scudded down the stairs to be here when you came, in order that I might see you and speak with you.”

Inza had hoped to convince him of his folly without being harsh, but now she was again aroused. To her his action seemed mean and despicable.

“Fine business eavesdropping at the door of a room and listening to the confidences of two girls!” she cried, her face flaming. “I did not wish to hurt you, but this confession of yours has filled me with unspeakable contempt. If there is anything I detest it is a person who plays the sneak!”

He started as if struck in the face. It is possible he had not realized how contemptible his action would appear in her eyes, else he would not have told her he had listened.

“Don’t!” he cried.

But she had decided that to be merciless with him would be the greatest kindness.

“I want you to understand how hopeless your case is,” she said. “If I had never seen Frank Merriwell I could not care for you! If you were the last fellow in the world I could not care for you! You repel me!”

He lifted his hand, his fist clenched.

“Don’t!” he exclaimed hoarsely.

“I want you to know the exact truth, so you will not deceive yourself longer.”

He stood still, his eyes fastened on her. Silence fell between them.

She was the one who broke this silence.

“Now you know; now you understand,” she said. “This will end it.”

“No!” he declared. “This is not the end! It is the beginning!”

“If you annoy me——”

“I’ll never give up! I’ll win you from him—or I’ll kill him!”

Fillmore fairly hissed the final words, and his face took on a look that frightened the girl.

“How would that help you?” she demanded. “You would make me loathe you, and you would send yourself to the chair.”

“But I’d have the satisfaction of knowing he had not secured you. He never shall! I’ll kill him first!”