CHAPTER XXI.

As though paralyzed by the audacity of the situation, Ben Mauprat stood there regarding the three.

Not a single word was spoken, and for seemingly an interminable time a silence that was painful rested upon them; then, with a snarl of vengeance, he stepped forward, his hand extended as though to snatch the boy from Leonie's arms, but quicker than thought Liz had placed herself between them.

"Don't do it, Ben," she cried hoarsely. "I've been a good wife and a true one to you, but you must not carry this any further than you have. God knows I do not know how it can be, but I have loved you with the devotion that few women have shown the husbands who have treated them with love and tenderness, and I have had nothing but blows and curses in return. I have never opened my mouth against it, and I never shall, if you kill me; but you have done your last to Dick. Listen, Ben; he is dying. Do you hear? Dying, Ben, and you are the cause of it. That girl whom you beat, and almost killed, has more love for your own child than you have, for she gave the liberty that she might have secured for his sake; and as there is a God above us, I will protect her with my life! I have been a coward just as long as I shall. As far as I am concerned I am willing to bear anything, but for Dick's sake the end has come."

There was a dramatic intensity about the situation that was thrilling.

The woman's tone was not loud, but her arm was raised until she seemed to tower above Ben Mauprat like a giantess above a dwarf.

Her eyes glowed with the passion that was moving her, her very bosom seemed to swell until it threatened bursting.

The last words of her sentence were given a force that caused Leonie to almost rise to her feet.

"Stand out of the way!" exclaimed Mauprat slowly, his eyes glowing with rage. "I don't want to kill you."

"You may do it and welcome if you wish," exclaimed Liz, vehemently, "but you shall not kill my child! Do you hear that, Ben? He may not live an hour through the cruelty that you have already shown him, but that hour shall be passed in peace. You beat him last night and again this morning, and ten minutes ago the doctor told us that it would be nursing and chance alone that could save his life, and that chance he shall have! Don't go near him, Ben! Don't try it! I love him as the only thing that holds me to life. Without him there is nothing in all this world that makes it worth living, and as long as I can I will keep him with me. You made him a hunchback, you have robbed him of every hope, but you shall not take the few hours that remain to him. I beg that you will listen to me, for if you refuse, as surely as you take a step in his direction, I will kill you."

There was a hideous emphasis upon the last words that would have told a man more of a believer in the vengeance of a woman, that the worm had turned at last.

But Ben Mauprat was not a believer in that sort of thing. Once a coward, always a coward to him.

He laughed fiendishly.

"'Pon my word, Liz, you are almost as good as a play!" he cried brutally. "If it were not setting a bad example I would excuse you for what you have done, on account of the amusement you have afforded me, but I am afraid that if I did that, the next thing you would do would be to allow this girl who has won your heart through her attention to that brat, to escape, and so ruin all my chances for wealth. The young one has always stood between me and your obedience! He has caused you to oppose my will oftener than anything else. He has caused you to get numberless beatings, and therefore the very best thing that could happen to you as well as to me, would be to have him die. I am not going to kill him outright, but I am going to show you that I will stand none of your rebellion, and that I will listen to none of your threats. I am going to lock that dangerous little rebel up, to settle with her later, and then I am going to give the boy the beating that his mother deserves."

"Don't do it, Ben! He has malignant diphtheria, and he would but die under it!"

The words were spoken in an awe-struck whisper, but they only seemed to anger the man the more.

"Malignant diphtheria, has he?" he exclaimed, harshly. "Well he may give it to the rest of us, and the best thing that can be done is to put him out of the way. Don't give us any more lip, Liz, but stand aside!"

He put out his hand to compel her obedience, but she only caught it, and held him convulsively.

"Don't, Ben!" she cried, wildly. "For the love of God have mercy! I have never asked many things of you, and I beg this as I would not plead for my own life! Oh, Ben, have mercy!"

"I am tired of this now! Shut up, or----"

"Ben, remember how true I have been. Remember----"

"Let me go, do you hear?"

"Ben, have pity! I swear that it is the last favor that I shall ever ask!"

For all answer he gave her a terrible fling, that sent her spinning across the room.

With a single stride he reached Leonie.

In another instant it is not to be doubted that he would have snatched the already dying child from her arms, but the desperate mother again interfered.

She did not fall, but maddened by her fear for the little, unfortunate creature in which was centered her only love, her only happiness, she seized a stick of wood that lay near the stove on the floor, and as Ben would have snatched the child from its helpless protector, she brought the cudgel down upon the back of his head with a force that, for a woman of her build, was supernatural.

Without a word or even a moan he fell forward upon his face and lay there like one dead.

A look of horror, somewhat tempered with relief, passed over Leonie's face.

But Liz seemed suddenly converted into a maniac.

A shrill laugh fell from her lips, but almost before it reached the atmosphere, it was changed to a cry.

She flung herself upon her knees before the boy and took his little, burning hand in hers, pressing her hot lips upon it wildly.

"I have killed him!" she whispered, hoarsely. "Do you hear that, my darling? I have killed him, and in a moment they will come to take your mother away to hang her. But you must not fret, Dick. I knew that it would come sooner or later, and it has come now, but you must not let it worry you, my darling. Oh, Dick! Dick! Dick!"

The words faded into a sob that was terrible.

Leonie laid her hand upon the bowed head gently.

"Think what you are doing, Liz," she said, almost tenderly. "The child is very ill--dying, perhaps, and you are exciting him like this. For his sake, calm yourself, Liz, and listen to me."

"Calm!" echoed the poor woman, as though that were the only word that she had heard. "How can I be calm when I have killed my husband and my child is dying? Oh, girl, do you know what that means to me? Have you any idea what it means to be all alone in the world with a weight like that upon your conscience?"

"Hush!" cried Leonie, earnestly. "You have not killed Ben. You have only stunned him, and if he returns to consciousness to find us still here, I would not give much for any of our lives. Do you hear me, Liz? Do you not see the necessity of our taking Dick away before he returns to life?"

For the first time the woman seemed to be aroused.

She lifted herself and looked wildly about her.

"You are right!" she exclaimed hoarsely. "He may not be dead--child, it would be better if I had killed him, for when he awakens he will kill us all. What shall we do? Help me to think! My brain seems to be on fire!"

"Is there no one whom you know to whom we could go for protection?"

"With him?" cried Liz, pointing to the child. "You must be mad. Do you think any one is going to risk a disease like that for his sake or mine? There is nothing that we can do, but you can go. There is no reason that you should die because we must."

"Do you think I am such a coward that I would leave you here alone? I would rather die with you. No, Liz! If one of us must remain we must all do so, but--I have an idea, Liz. It is a hopeless situation for you anyway, and therefore, it cannot be any worse. Every moment may be precious to us now, and therefore, we must act quickly. We must call upon the police for protection. We must have an officer here and have Ben arrested when he awakens."

"But----"

"There is no time to argue it, Liz. It is a last resort."

"Then you go. I will keep the child."

"No. I must remain. If he were to awaken and find you here without me, he would kill you without the hesitation of a second; but if he should recover during your absence, I could invent some story that would keep him talking until your return. Do not fear for me, Liz, but, for God's sake, hurry!"

For only one second Liz paused; then, with not a glance in the direction of the prostrate man, she murmured a word of blessing upon the head of the girl who had, at the risk of her own life, befriended her, and hastened away.

With a heart that seemed to stand still with dread, Leonie awaited.

Only once she looked at the child. The great eyes were fixed pleadingly upon her, as though beseeching her not to forsake him.

She pressed her hand over them, to close the burning lids.

"Don't fret, Dick!" she said. "Nothing shall harm you, my poor little one, until I have been killed first."

The sound of her own voice, in the terrible stillness that had fallen upon them, was uncanny. She shivered with fright.

She turned from the unfortunate child, and cast a look of dread upon the man beside her, and, to her horror, found the hideous, glaring eyes fixed upon her.

She could not prevent a little shriek of terror. She watched him as though fascinated, while very slowly he arose to his feet, never once removing his terrible, glassy eyes from her face.

It seemed ages until he had gained his feet, and after he had, he still stood glaring at her, slowly rolling up his sleeves in a manner that seemed to paralyze her with horror.