CHAPTER V

The presence of a peculiarly sweet perfume, brought to his nostrils by a light zephyr floating through the open window near, caused him to look up. He could see through the casement an old and shabby honeysuckle, and it was from this the odour came, so elusive as to make him doubt its reality. He wondered why so unsightly a shrub as this had grown to be was allowed a place in the purlieus of the immaculate lawn, then his eyes came indoors. The room in which he sat was large. An old fireplace was on one side, but this was hidden by a screen. Above it was a tall mantel, with some chaste bric-a-brac, and above this the picture of a man of unusually fine appearance. A young man, whose every feature bespoke courage and determination. The remainder of the wall space was pretty much given up to book cases of various sizes and designs, and all crammed with books. A center-post mahogany table stood in the middle of the room, and this also was heavily sprinkled with books and papers, and a few magazines. Being a man, Glenning did not know that the threads in the carpet under his feet showed, nor that the haircloth with which the chairs were upholstered was worn into holes in many places. But he pricked his ears at once when he heard quick footsteps on the long side porch, and the sound of more deliberate and heavier steps coming with them. He was on his feet when Major Dudley and Julia came into the library arm in arm. A smile of genuine welcome was on the aristocratic features of the master of the place, and he came forward with more celerity than he was wont to show, clasping Glenning's hand in a grip which almost made the young fellow wince.

"You're none too soon, suh; none too soon!" he exclaimed, beaming warmest appreciation into the eyes of his caller. "Sit down, suh, sit down, while I apologize for not coming to inquire after you this morning, instead of waiting for this afternoon. You must have a constitution of adamant," he added, as the three took chairs.

"It is pretty tough," admitted Glenning. "I'm almost myself today. Still I would not have ventured to impose myself upon you this morning had it not chanced I heard something which you will be glad to know--or, at least, which you should know, for it is not pleasant news."

"One moment, suh." Then to his daughter, in a tone of greatest respect--"Julia, bid Peter mix two juleps and serve them here at once. Now, doctor, what were you going to say?"

"I shall wait for Miss Dudley's return, with your permission. That which I have to say concerns you both equally. This is a lovely old home, if you will pardon the comment."

Major Dudley took a book from the table by which he sat. Certainly not with the intention of reading, but it was a life-long habit, and if he happened to be in arm's length of a book he never failed to pick it up.

"It's a family possession, suh. The wah's done away with most of them hereabout, but we were fortunate in not being pillaged and burned, like many of our neighbors. Then a number were sold for debt, and passed into vandal hands. But before we proceed fu'ther, suh, you must let me confess my obligation--"

Glenning held up a restraining hand.

"Miss Dudley has done that," he said, "and you would please me most by not referring again to last night's adventure. I was lucky enough to get the horse out, and lucky enough to get out myself. I know all the thanks which you would utter, and I accept them. Now let's close the incident and come down to the needs of the moment, for, believe me, they are pressing."

The Major gazed in sheer amazement at the man, and before he could find his voice Julia returned, glided like a sunbeam to her chair and sat down, folding her hands in her lap.

"Peter will be here in a moment," she said, softly.

Glenning resumed talking immediately, and laid bare to the smallest detail the plot which he had heard an hour or two before. The girl's face paled in evident distress as the recital proceeded, while Major Dudley sat like an image of stone, his gray eyes fixed unwaveringly on the speaker.

"That is all," concluded John, "and I have come straight to you, for forewarned is forearmed. I judge the attack will be made between two and three in the morning."

When he ceased there was dead silence for perhaps a minute. Finally one word broke from the Major's lips--"Marston!" His eyes fell to the floor for an instant, then he lifted his head as a stag might when brought to bay.

"He is the enemy of our house, suh, and he has harassed me vilely! If I were a younger man, I'd dare him to do his worst." Then a troubled and perplexed expression came over his face, and he turned to his daughter. "Little girl, this is men's work. Had you not better leave us?"

Julia got up, went to him, and placed one hand upon his forehead and the other around his neck.

"The time has come when I must share your burdens, daddy," she said. Her face was burning, but her voice was very tender and brave. "Let's talk it over together--Doctor Glenning, you and I. Is not that best?"

She turned her gaze on the young man by the window as she put the question.

"Decidedly!" he answered promptly, and with vigour. "I am convinced that an exceedingly base man is attempting you cowardly violence, and if you will permit me I shall gladly take part in your council. The first thought which presents itself is--why not denounce him and place him under arrest?"

The old man shook his head, and smiled sadly.

"Had you not just arrived in our town you would realize that to be impossible. He is very powerful, very rich, and has men at his mercy who are high in civic and municipal affairs. Your testimony--or mine--would be laughed at. We cannot touch him."

Glenning's face darkened, and his lips pressed together to a thin, straight line.

"Then it's Greek meet Greek," he said, in a low, hard voice, and Julia, watching him, felt something akin to awe well up in her breast. Somehow he seemed so masterful, so calm, so purposeful, and she had been a witness of his ability to do things.

"Travers is to be his agent this time?"

It was the Major's voice, worry-laden.

"Yes, that's the name."

"He runs the hotel on a lease. Marston owns it. He's tired of working, and wants to buy his way to independence over the body of the Prince. Let him come! I am old to shed man's blood, but I will protect my property!"

"Daddy, you can't sit up all night," remonstrated Julia, trying to smooth the wrinkles from his forehead, "and you would be no match for an able bodied person bent on mischief. Isn't the smoke-house strong enough to keep out whoever comes?"

A throat was cleared in the hall doorway in an apologetic manner. The Major was too preoccupied to hear it.

"Here's Peter," said Julia, soothingly, without looking up.

"Ah! I'd forgotten. Let me ask you to have a julep with me, Doctor Glenning. Peter, pass the tray to the gentleman."

The retainer of the Dudley household shambled forward, bearing a tray upon which sat two glasses, each containing a well-mixed mint julep. It may as well be stated here that the quality of a mint julep depends largely upon the manner in which it is prepared, and Peter had been doing this sort of thing three times a day for more years than he had fingers and toes. This formal courtesy having been duly observed, Peter withdrew at once, and the question of the moment again commanded attention.

"There's nothing, my daughter," said Major Dudley, reverting to Julia's question, "there's nothing can positively thwart a villain except steel or lead. This man has hounded me until I'm desperate!"

"I agree with Miss Dudley," said Glenning, speaking carefully, "that it would not do for you to attempt to cope with this midnight assassin. A personal encounter is not at all improbable, and in that event you would inevitably suffer bodily harm, and perhaps death, for the man who would undertake such a piece of work as this would not hesitate to take human life."

While he was speaking Julia left her father's side and went back to the chair she had formerly occupied.

"Is there any one about the place upon whom you could rely?" John queried.

"We are alone with the exception of Peter and Aunt Frances. They would sacrifice themselves for us, but their aid would be out of the question upon an occasion like this."

A sudden gloom seemed to envelope the Major as he spoke.

"There's no one," he added, in a lifeless tone.

"But in town?" persisted the calm, even voice. "Is there no one--no young person who is not afraid that you could call to your assistance?"

The old man's head moved slowly in sign of negation.

"We live almost absolutely to ourselves, and alone," explained Julia. "It has been the family trait for generations. I have sometimes thought it a grave fault thus to seclude ourselves from the world, and live apart from our neighbors. It is a species of selfishness, but we have always found it very sweet. But living thus we must, you see, be sufficient unto ourselves at all times and under all circumstances. We have no moral nor civil right to make any demands, or ask any favours. We have chosen our lot, and we must abide by it, whatever comes. Until now--until this hour we have never regretted this, but--"

"But at the proper time Fate takes a hand in every game."

Glenning smiled as he finished the sentence in his own way.

"What do you mean?" asked the girl, a quick suspicion of what was in his mind causing her brown eyes to dilate and her lips to part the least bit in anticipation.

His words had an effect on the Major also. He straightened up, while hope sprang to his eyes. Glenning braced his feet on the floor and grasped the arms of his chair firmly before he answered. When he spoke his words came clear and sharp from between his teeth.

"I mean what I say." He held Julia Dudley's eyes with his own, without wavering an instant, as he went rapidly on. "Fate has taken a hand, and I am her instrument. This is no time for false attitudes, hypocrisy, or make-believes. There come times in all lives when superficiality has to be shorn away, when we must look upon things as they really are and cast aside all pretence and the nice fabric which cloaks our everyday actions and affairs. It is in such times we find our real selves, and the pity of it is they are usually compelled by some distressing situation, some condition which of itself strips off all sham and leaves our true natures bare. A little more than twelve hours ago I did not know that either of you were in the land of the living. Chance, if we chose to call it that, brought me in your way, and I did you a service. Simple justice to a fellow being against whose worldly goods I overheard a vile conspiracy brought me to your home today. With what result? You are totally unprepared and unable to meet this crisis alone and unaided. There is no one upon whom to call in this emergency. I am young, strong, and unafraid. I shall watch The Prince tonight!"

Julia put her palms over her face for the briefest moment, and when she took them down her eyes were shining adorably.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "We cannot accept that!"

A faint shadow of annoyance flashed over Glenning's countenance. He feared that she had not understood fully, but in the swift moment which followed he knew that he was wrong, and that she did understand. She was aware that his motive was noble and impersonal, for the knowledge was written on her fare. The caller turned to Major Dudley.

"Will you accept my offer, sir? It is made simply as man to man; as two strangers might meet in the desert, one unarmed and threatened by a wild beast, the other armed, and ready and willing to do what he can. That is the situation, and it is very simple. I see no need to delay, or hesitate. It is an extremely plain proposition. What do you say, sir?"

The Major was grave, upright and dignified as he answered in his measured tones:

"This is the fust time in my life that I have asked or received aid from any man. But I find myself in a sore strait, from which, as far as I can see, there is only one escape. The Prince is almost as deah to me as a child, Doctor Glenning. He is the last of a strain of race hosses which have made Kentucky famous all over the United States, and I confess to you that his swiftness has never been equalled by any of his forebears. To save myself, personally, I would tell you no. To save Julia and the colt, I say yes. It looks base, it looks brazen, it looks coarse and common, but I trust, suh, you realize fully the peculiar position in which you find me, and from which it seems that no one but you can extricate me. My daughter, we accept Doctor Glenning's magnanimous offer provisionally."

Julia merely bowed her head and remained silent. Her face had grown whiter and her eyes almost solemn.

"What restrictions do you wish to place upon me?" asked Glenning.

"Simply this. That you do not go on duty till midnight. There is absolutely no danger before that time, and Peter and I will share the watch. Again, you must promise to remain in shelter when you begin your vigil. The Prince's new quarters will be the smoke-house. Peter is there now doing what's necessary. It's a stanch structure, solid as a block-house of pioneer days, and will withstand an assault. You must also agree not to fire upon anyone unless it should become necessary. I have no desire that any of these people should die. If compelled to shoot, shoot low, and let your aim be to cripple. These are my provisions, and I shall not swerve from them an inch."

The man by the window hesitated a moment only.

"All right," he said. "I agree, since I must, but I had rather go into this business unhampered." He smiled boyishly, and turned to Julia. "We've over-ridden you, Miss Dudley. I hope you, also, will now agree to this little plan?"

"Ye-e-s, if father thinks it right I mustn't be contrary. But you are unfit for such a thing just now, and it seems brutally cruel and unfeeling after what you did last night."

Glenning waved his hand deprecatingly.

"We've forgotten that, you know, and agreed to let it alone. See that you don't trespass again. Tonight will be a lark, nothing else. Do you think I could be possibly frightened by that funny looking little hotel keeper?"

"Travers is an arrant coward, as well as a knave," broke in the Major, "but if Marston has any reason to doubt his project will miscarry, he may come, too. Then it's time to keep your eyes open, for he'll stop at nothing. I'm glad you have consented to my provisions, doctor, and now I've something else to say. I invite you to spend the afternoon with us, and take tea. Then you can return to town at twilight and retire early, in order to get some rest."

Involuntarily Glenning's eyes went around to where the young mistress of the old home sat.

"Let me repeat father's invitation," she said. "We shall be glad to have you stay. It will be pleasant for us, and will give you an opportunity to lay your plan of action for tonight. It will also save you an extra trip, if you have no other business on hand for the afternoon."

Glenning bowed.

"Nothing whatever. Tomorrow, perhaps, or the next day, I will establish an office down town, and incidentally desert the Union House. I have no desire whatever to remain the guest of our friend, Mr. Travers. He might put arsenic in my soup, or strychnine in my bread. But for the rest of this day I'm free, and I am delighted with your invitation, which I accept with pleasure."

Julia arose and went to the Major's side again.

"This is the hour for father's siesta," she said. "He has been accustomed to taking a nap this time of day ever since I can remember, and I know he especially needs it now." She bent down and whispered in the old gentleman's ear, but Glenning caught the words. "Lie down and rest now, daddy dear. I'll take care of our guest until you wake. And don't worry. Everything will come out all right."

Major Dudley arose a little unsteadily. His present trouble, crowding the heels of last night's occurrence, had told on him. His face was careworn, and there was the suggestion of a stoop in his shoulders. John had likewise risen.

"If you will pardon me, suh," spoke the Major, "I'll lie down a while now. A lazy custom of mine for which there really is no excuse. But habit is strong, and grows stronger the more we humour it. I will be up and out in the course of an hour. My daughter will entertain you, suh."

He bowed in formal, old-fashioned courtesy, and made his way to a long, deep davenport across the room which Glenning had hitherto failed to notice.

The caller now followed Julia into the hall.

"It seems impossible for us to treat you as a stranger in any way," she said, in a low, musical voice, "or to make company of you. Shall we sit on the portico, or would you rather go out on the lawn? We can take chairs out, if you prefer."

"Am I to speak with perfect freedom? I believe that is the best and truest basis for friendship, and I hope we may grow to be friends."

The partly alarmed glance which she darted at him showed only the habitual expression, half-smiling, half-grave, wholly genuine.

"The truth, always, and straight from the shoulder," she answered. "Deliver me from men or women who are constantly beating about the bush and perpetually feeling their way."

"Bravo!" he exclaimed, softly, and laughed--a chest laugh which thrilled her. "If everyone followed that maxim we would always know where our neighbours stood. Then this is the thing I wish now--to go have a look at The Prince's new stable. It had best be done by daylight, and--"

"Why, certainly."

She took a sunbonnet from the hat-rack near by, and turned to the long side porch back of the hall.

"Come with me. It is not very far away."

They passed the length of the porch side by side, silently. Some steps brought them to the ground, and as Glenning cast his eyes about he saw a portly figure in blue calico and bandana swathed head disappearing up another short flight of steps at the other end of the house.

"That's Aunt Frances," explained Julia, smiling at the precipitate manner in which the old negress had sought the shelter of her kitchen. "She is very shy for one of her age, and she is especially 'jubus' of young men. I don't know why, for I'm sure they are not near so critical as the young women. But she is faithful, and wonderfully watchful of me. I love her devotedly. Yonder is her consort, Peter, hard at work."

The smoke-house was not over fifty yards from the mansion, and was reached along a walk of huge flat stones. The way to all the out-buildings was paved in this manner. Peter was evidently hung on the horns of a dilemma as the two young people came up. He removed his tattered hat deferentially, greeted them with two profound salaams, and plunged into a recital of his woes, using the saw he held in one hand by way of emphasis and illustration.

"De stable hit bu'n, 'n' de Prince got to hab a home. Massa 'low de smoke-house wuz de only t'ing lef' fittin', 'n' hyar I been all day tryin' to wuk out de riddle. Dar's de do', 'n' dar's de Prince, hitched to dat freestone peach tree, 'n' de question whut's 'plexin' my mind is, how I gwi' git 'im thu dat do'!"

He ceased with his head on one side, and rheumy eyes which glared defiantly at the young man fronting him.

"What have you been doing with your saw?" asked Glenning, amused, but holding his face decorously straight.

"Cut a winder on de yon' side o' de house. Hit tuk me twel dinner-time. Now comes dis pesky do', whut de Prince won' fit. Ef he had 'nough gumption to stoop, he could go in, but he's dat proud he won' bend a bit. 'N' he got to git in hyar 'fo' dahk, sho'."

"Let me take a look. Maybe I can offer you a suggestion."

John passed through the low door. He found himself in a tall, dark room, odourous of cured meats and burned hickory fagots. It was scantily lighted by a square window of diminutive size, for in making the opening Peter had been careful not to get it large enough to admit the body of a man. But Glenning thought it was just the right size to admit two arms, one holding a bull's eye lantern and the other a revolver. By the aid of the light which streamed through the open door he could discern dimly the rows of blackened rafters overhead, from which broken bits of hempen strings hung desolately. There was not an ounce of meat in the smoke-house, and the man could not help wondering the least bit at this. Could they really be poor! He remembered what Dillard had said to him--"They are in no position to entertain a well guest, let alone a sick one." His heart sank strangely at the thought, and pity filled his breast. He turned swiftly, and went out the door.

"Peter's trouble is not as grave as it might be," he said, smiling at Julia as she stood patiently listening to the darky's discourse. "There are two remedies; to cut up, or dig down. The floor, I notice, is perhaps six inches lower than the ground, or we could saw out the log above the lintel. Either is entirely practicable, and not difficult. Which would you prefer, Miss Dudley?"

Julia did not know, as the perplexed look on her face showed, but Peter did. He broke in before she had time to formulate a reply.

"We'll dig dat do'step up. I've heerd de Massa say afo'time dat de rain'd run under dat do', 'n' dat he gwi' hab it 'tended to 'kase it spile de meat. 'Bleeged to yo', suh. I'll git de pick 'n' shev'l 'n' fix dat d'reckly."

He departed with his peculiar gait.

"Come and look at The Prince, and see if he knows you," said Julia. "Peter hasn't let him get out of sight today."

Together they approached the young animal which stood tethered under the shade of a small peach tree to one side.

"It's wonderful how little he was hurt," resumed Julia, and she could not restrain the emotion in her voice. "See, this is the worst."

She pointed to a spot just above the lean flank, where a long, deep burn marred the satin-like skin.

"A piece of falling timber did that," said Glenning. "I saw it."

He walked slowly around The Prince, and he, who had known horses from his childhood, marveled much at the absolute faultlessness of this young colt. He was modeled for speed, and speed alone, from the tips of his veined ears to his small, polished hoofs. There was not a line at fault, and, unbidden, a great wave of enthusiasm swept the man.

"You will race him this summer?" he queried.

"Yes, if he lives till then," she answered, with some sadness.

"Don't fear but he will live. I pledge you my word he shall be on the track when the day comes."

Julia looked at him with moist eyes.

"You are wondrous kind." Then, with a sudden brightening--"The Prince _is_ fast. Oh, you don't know! He really runs like the wind; so rapidly that it almost frightens you. But this is a secret, you know. Still it has gotten abroad, somehow, and that's why the stable burned, for there are those not far away who also own fast horses, and it would almost kill them to have our Prince victorious."

A scowl darkened the face of the tall, spare man in front of her.

"I can scarcely believe such dastardly cowards are alive. But don't fear them. They shall not harm your horse, and after this night I think their designs upon his life will cease."

"O I fear the night!" she cried. "But remember your promise to father. I wish it was all over, and morning was here again!"

His deep, soft chest laugh reassured her.

"This will be child's play, Miss Dudley. Do not permit your rest to be disturbed on my account. I love the darkness. Not because I am altogether evil, but because of the solitude and peace which it brings. We can find ourselves better in the still hours; we can face ourselves and take counsel, and repent of what has been unworthy, and gather strength, perchance, for the next day."

She raised her eyes with the tiniest frown of wonder, but he had bent down and was rubbing the foreleg of The Prince.

Peter arrived at this point with his implements and set vigorously to work, and in the space of a half-hour the colt was safely domiciled anew, and was munching oats from a soap-box, both of which had been provided by his faithful groom.

The remainder of the day passed with remarkable swiftness for John Glenning. He found in Julia a character of unusual charm. She was unsated with the world, unspoiled by men, unworried by the demands of society. Her life had been a trifle monotonous, perhaps, but she possessed the polish which gentle birth and proper environment bestows, and her ready, bright mind had been led along the channels of the pure and good only. Her innate womanliness was ever uppermost, never approaching prudery, but marking unmistakably her speech, gestures and manners. Soon after their return to the house they had been joined by Major Dudley, and ere he realized how time had flown the vigorous ringing of a bell on the side porch made Glenning aware that it was tea time. It was rather a frugal repast to which he sat down a few moments later, but the napery was snowy white, and the service of elegant silver, solid and old. Aunt Frances, in white cap and apron, moved ponderously about the board in prompt and deft manipulation of dishes, and to the poor office- and hotel-worn man it was as though he had accidentally strayed into Paradise. Candles in antique old brass holders lighted the table, and there was witchery in the misty halo they cast upon the fresh, lovely face and waving hair of Julia Dudley. She was happy and bright at tea, striving alike to entertain their guest and to lift the gloom which had again enveloped the Major. This side of her father's nature she had seldom seen, and it made her afraid. Should he grow morose or brooding at his time of life the result would be disastrous, she knew, and before the meal was finished she made a mental resolve to bring about that very night the talk which the Major had promised her the afternoon before. Then she would be the better able to aid him.

The sun was down when they again came out upon the portico, and twilight was silently clearing the way for darkness.

"You have been most kind to me," said Glenning, standing bareheaded upon the low step between the portico pillars. "Your hospitality has been the best thing I have known for a long time. Let me beg you, Major, not to let this little affair tonight keep you from sleeping. There is not the slightest use of anyone being at the smoke-house until after midnight, and I shall be here not later than twelve. If, however, you would feel easier to know that a friendly eye was on The Prince, let Peter go. Remember I consented to your terms readily, and now I implore you to listen to me. Will you retire at your usual hour?"

"I will see that father keeps to the house," Julia said, with an unexpected firmness which surprised both her hearers. As she spoke she thrust her arm through the Major's and pressed it gently.

"There is not the slightest necessity for either of you to sit up," resumed Glenning. "I shall come and quietly go around to the smoke-house and remain there till morning. And please do not be alarmed unnecessarily. I shall keep my word to you, Major, depend upon that, and above all, go to sleep with the positive assurance that The Prince shall pass through this night unharmed."

He clasped each one's hand firmly, and turned away.

As the tall, upright form disappeared down the avenue, Julia put one hand upon her father's cheek.

"Daddy," she said, "this night I must hear why Devil Marston hates us."