The Obstacle Race by Ethel May Dell (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📖

must forgive me, my dear. I believe I hear Juliet in the conservatory. We won't discuss this before her."
He would have risen, but she detained him. "Edward, just a moment! I want to ask you something."
"Well?" Reluctantly he paused.
"I--only want to know," she spoke with some effort, "what there is about--Mr. Green that--that makes you so fond of him."
"Oh, that!" He stood hesitating. But there were certainly footsteps in the conservatory; he heard them with relief. "I'll tell you some other time, my dear," he said gently. "Here comes Juliet to turn me out!"
He turned to the window as she entered and greeted her with a smile. Vera was still clinging to his hand.
"May I come in?" said Juliet, stopping on the threshold.
"Yes, of course, come in!" Vera said. "We have been talking about you, Juliet. Will you come for a voyage with us in Lord Saltash's yacht?"
Juliet came slowly forward. Her face was pale. She was holding a letter in her hand. She looked from one to the other for a second or two in silence.
"Are you sure," she said, in her low quiet voice, "that you wouldn't rather go alone?"
"Not unless you would rather not come," said the squire.
"Thank you," she said. "May I--think about it?"
The squire was looking at her attentively. "What is the matter?" he said suddenly.
She met his look steadily, though he felt it to be with an effort. Then quietly she turned to Vera.
"I have just had a letter," she said, "from a friend who is in trouble. Do you think you can spare me--for a little while?"
Vera stretched a hand to her. "My dear Juliet, I am so sorry. Of course you shall go. What is it? What has happened?"
Juliet came to her, took and held the hand. "You are very kind," she said. "But I don't want you to be troubled too. There is no need. You are sure you will be all right without me?"
"You will come back to me?" Vera said.
"I will certainly come back," Juliet made steadfast answer, "even if I can't stay. But now that you are able to sit up, you will need me less. You will take care of her, Mr. Fielding?" looking up at him.
He nodded. "You may be sure of that--the utmost care. When must you go?"
He was still looking at her closely; his eyes deeply searching.
Juliet hesitated. "Do you think--to-night?" she said.
"Certainly. Then you will want a car. Have you told Lord Saltash?" He turned to the door.
"No, I have only just heard. I believe he has gone to town." Juliet gently laid down the hand she was holding. "I will come back," she said again, and followed him.
He drew the door closed behind them. They faced each other in the dimness of the hall. The squire's mouth was twitching uncontrollably. "Now, Juliet!" His voice had a ring of sternness; he put his hand on her shoulder, gripping unconsciously. "For heaven's sake--" he said--"out with it! It isn't--Dick?"
"No--Robin!" she said.
"Ah!" He drew a deep breath and straightened himself, his other hand over his eyes. Then in a moment he was looking at her again. His grip relaxed. "Forgive me!" he said. "Did I hurt you?"
She gave him a faint smile. "It doesn't matter. You understand, don't you? I must go--to Dick."
He nodded. "Yes--yes! Is the boy--dead?"
"No. It was a fall over the cliff. It happened last night. They didn't find him for hours. He is going fast. Jack brought me this." She glanced down at the letter in her hand.
He made a half-gesture to take it, checking himself sharply. "I beg your pardon, Juliet, I hardly know what I'm doing. It's from Dick, is it?"
Very quietly she gave it to him. "You may read it. You have a right to know," she said.
He gave her an odd look. "May I? Are you sure?"
"Read it!" she said.
He opened it. His fingers were trembling. She stood at his shoulder and read it with him. The words were few, containing the bald statement, but no summons.
The squire read them, breathing heavily. Suddenly he thrust his arm round Juliet and held her fast.
"Juliet! You'll be good to my boy--good to Dick?"
Her eyes met his. "That is why I am going to him," she said. She took the note and folded it, standing within the circle of his arm.
"I'd go to him myself--if I could," Fielding went on unevenly. "He'll feel this--damnably. He was simply devoted to that unfortunate boy."
"I know," said Juliet.
Again he put his hand to his eyes. "I've been a beast about Robin. Ask him to forgive me, Juliet! Tell him I'm awfully sorry, that I'll come as soon as I can get away. And if there's anything he wants--anything under the sun--he's to have it. See? Make him understand!"
"He will understand," Juliet said quietly.
He looked at her again. "Don't let him fret, Juliet!" he said urgently. "You'll comfort him, won't you? I know I'm always rating him, but he's such a good chap. You--you love him, don't you?"
"Yes," she said.
"God bless you for that!" he said earnestly. "I can't tell you what he is to me--can't explain. But--but--"
"I--understand," she said.
"What?" He stared at her for a moment. "What--do you understand?"
"I know what he is to you," she said gently. "I have known--for a long time. Never mind how! Nobody told me. It just came to me one day."
"Ah!" Impulsively he broke in. "You see everything. I'm afraid of you, Juliet. But look here! You won't--you won't--make him suffer--for my sins?"
Her hand pressed his arm. "What am I?" she said. "Have I any right to judge anyone? Besides--oh, besides--do you think I could possibly go to him if I did not feel that nothing on earth matters now--except our love?"
She spoke with deep emotion. She was quivering from head to foot. He bent very low to kiss the hand upon his arm.
"And you will have your reward," he said huskily. "Don't forget--it's the only thing in life that really counts! There's nothing else--nothing else."
Juliet stood quite still looking down at the bent grey head. "I wonder," she said slowly, "I wonder--if Dick--in his heart--thinks the same!"


CHAPTER IX
THE ANSWER

The August dusk had deepened into night when the open car from the Court pulled up at the schoolhouse gate. The school had closed for the summer holidays a day or two before. No lights shone in either building.
"Do you mind going in alone?" whispered Jack. "I can't show here. But I'll wait inside the park-gates to take you back."
"You needn't wait," Juliet said. "I shall spend the night at the Court--unless I am wanted here."
She descended with the words. She had never liked Jack Green, and she was thankful that the rapid journey was over. She heard him shoot up the drive as she went up the schoolhouse path.
In the dark little porch she hesitated. The silence was intense. Then, as she stood in uncertainty, from across the bare playground there came a call.
"Juliet!"
She turned swiftly. He was standing in the dark doorway of the school. The vague light of the rising moon gleamed deathly on his face. He did not move to meet her.
She went to him, reached out hands to him that he did not take, and clasped him by the shoulders. "Oh, you poor boy!"
His arms held her close for a moment or two, then they relaxed.
"I don't know why I sent for you," he said.
"You didn't send for me, Dick," she made gentle answer. "But I think you wanted me all the same."
He groaned. "Wanted you! I've--craved for you. You told the squire?"
"Yes. He said--"
He broke in upon her with fierce bitterness. "He was pleased of course! I knew he would be. That's why I couldn't send the message to him. It had to be you."
"Dick! Dick! He wasn't pleased! You don't know what you're saying. He was most terribly sorry." She put her arm through his with a very tender gesture. "Won't you take me inside and tell me all about it?" she said.
He gave a hard shudder. "I don't know if I can, Juliet. It's been--so awful. He suffered--so infernally. The doctor didn't want to give him morphia--said it would hasten the end." He stamped in a sort of impotent frenzy. "I stood over him and made him. It was just what I wanted to do. It was--it was--beyond endurance."
"Oh, my dear!" she said.
He put his hands over his face. "Juliet,--it was--hell!" he said brokenly. "When I wrote that note to you--I thought the worst was over. But it wasn't--it wasn't! He was past speaking--but his eyes--they kept imploring me to let him go.--O God, I'd given my soul to help him! And I could do--nothing--except see him die!"
Again a convulsive shudder caught him. Juliet's arms went around him. She held his head against her breast.
"It's over now," she whispered. "Thank God for that!"
He leaned upon her for a space. "Yes, it's over. At least he died in peace," he said, and drew a hard, quivering breath. Then he stood up again. "Juliet, I'm so sorry. Come inside! I'll light the lamp. I couldn't stand that empty house--with only my boy's dead body in it. Mrs. Rickett has been there, but she's gone now." He turned and pushed open the door. "Wait a minute while I light up!"
She did not wait, but followed him closely, and stood beside him while he lighted a lamp on the wall. He turned from doing so and smiled at her, and she saw that though his face was ghastly, he was his own master again.
"How did you get here?" he said. "Who took the note? The doctor promised to get it delivered."
"Jack brought it," she said. "I came back with him."
"Jack!" His brows drew together suddenly. She saw his black eyes gleam. For a moment he said nothing further. Then: "If--Jack comes anywhere near me to-night, I shall kill him!" he said very quietly.
"Dick!" she said in amazement.
There was a certain awful intentness in his look. "I hold him responsible for this," he said.
She gazed at him, assailed by a swift wonder as to his sanity.
In a second he saw the doubt and replied to it, still with that deadly quietness that seemed to her more terrible than violence. "I know what I am saying. He is--directly responsible. My boy died for my sake, because he believed what Jack told him--that no woman would ever consent to marry me while he lived."
"Oh, Dick! You don't mean--he did it--on purpose!" Juliet's voice was quick with pain. "Dick, surely--surely--it wasn't that! You are making a mistake!"
"No. It is no mistake," he said, with sombre conviction. "I know it. Mrs. Rickett knows it too. It's been preying on his mind ever since. He hasn't been well. He's suffered with his head a good deal lately. He--" He stopped himself. "There's no need to distress you over this. Thank you for coming. I didn't really expect you. Is he--is Jack--waiting to take you back?"
"No," said Juliet quietly.
His brows went up. "You are sleeping at the Court? I'll take you there."
"I'm not going yet, Dick," she said gently, "unless you turn me out."
His face quivered unexpectedly. He turned from her. "There's--nothing to wait for," he said.
But Juliet stood motionless. Her eyes went down the long bare room with its empty forms and ink-splashed desks. She thought it the most desolate place she had ever seen.
After an interval of blank silence Dick spoke again. "Don't you stay!