"I thought you only meant that to satisfy mother."Daniel Harcourt felt the blood settling round his heart,but he was constrained by an irresistible impulse to know the worst."Well,what did YOU think it really was?""I only thought that 'Lige Curtis had simply let you have it,that's all."Harcourt breathed again."But what for?Why should he?""Well--ON MY ACCOUNT."
"On YOUR account!What in Heaven's name had YOU to do with it?""He loved me."There was not the slightest trace of vanity,self-consciousness or coquetry in her quiet,fateful face,and for this very reason Harcourt knew that she was speaking the truth.
"Loved YOU!--you,Clementina!--my daughter!Did he ever TELL you so?""Not in words.He used to walk up and down on the road when I was at the back window or in the garden,and often hung about the bank of the creek for hours,like some animal.I don't think the others saw him,and when they did they thought it was Parmlee for Euphemia.Even Euphemia thought so too,and that was why she was so conceited and hard to Parmlee towards the end.She thought it was Parmlee that night when Grant and Rice came;but it was 'Lige Curtis who had been watching the window lights in the rain,and who must have gone off at last to speak to you in the store.I always let Phemie believe that it was Parmlee,--it seemed to please her."There was not the least tone of mischief or superiority,or even of patronage in her manner.It was as quiet and cruel as the fate that might have led 'Lige to his destruction.Even her father felt a slight thrill of awe as she paused."Then he never really spoke to you?"he asked hurriedly.
"Only once.I was gathering swamp lilies all alone,a mile below the bend of the creek,and he came upon me suddenly.Perhaps it was that I didn't jump or start--I didn't see anything to jump or start at--that he said,'You're not frightened at me,Miss Harcourt,like the other girls?You don't think I'm drunk or half mad--as they do?'I don't remember exactly what I said,but it meant that whether he was drunk or half mad or sober I didn't see any reason to be afraid of him.And then he told me that if I was fond of swamp lilies I might have all I wanted at his place,and for the matter of that the place too,as he was going away,for he couldn't stand the loneliness any longer.He said that he had nothing in common with the place and the people--no more than Ihad--and that was what he had always fancied in me.I told him that if he felt in that way about his place he ought to leave it,or sell it to some one who cared for it,and go away.That must have been in his mind when he offered it to you,--at least that's what I thought when you told us you had bought it.I didn't know but what he might have told you,but you didn't care to say it before mother."Mr.Harcourt sat gazing at her with breathless amazement."And you--think that--'Lige Curtis--lov--liked you?""Yes,I think he did--and that he does now!""NOW!What do you mean?The man is dead!"said Harcourt starting.
"That's just what I don't believe."
"Impossible!Think of what you are saying.""I never could quite understand or feel that he was dead when everybody said so,and now that I've heard this story I KNOW that he is living.""But why did he not make himself known in time to claim the property?""Because he did not care for it."
"What did he care for,then?"
"Me,I suppose."
"But this calumny is not like a man who loves you.""It is like a JEALOUS one."
With an effort Harcourt threw off his bewildered incredulity and grasped the situation.He would have to contend with his enemy in the flesh and blood,but that flesh and blood would be very weak in the hands of the impassive girl beside him.His face lightened.
The same idea might have been in Clementina's mind when she spoke again,although her face had remained unchanged."I do not see why YOU should bother yourself further about it,"she said."It is only a matter between myself and him;you can leave it to me.""But if you are mistaken and he should not be living?""I am not mistaken.I am even certain now that I have seen him.""Seen him!"
"Yes,"said the girl with the first trace of animation in her face.
"It was four or five months ago when we were visiting the Briones at Monterey.We had ridden out to the old Mission by moonlight.
There were some Mexicans lounging around the posada,and one of them attracted my attention by the way he seemed to watch me,without revealing any more of his face than I could see between his serape and the black silk handkerchief that was tied around his head under his sombrero.But I knew he was an American--and his eyes were familiar.I believe it was he.""Why did you not speak of it before?"
The look of animation died out of the girl's face."Why should I?"she said listlessly."I did not know of these reports then.He was nothing more to us.You wouldn't have cared to see him again."She rose,smoothed out her skirt and stood looking at her father.
"There is one thing,of course,that you'll do at once."Her voice had changed so oddly that he said quickly:"What's that?""Call Grant off the scent.He'll only frighten or exasperate your game,and that's what you don't want."Her voice was as imperious as it had been previously listless.And it was the first time he had ever known her to use slang.
It seemed as startling as if it had fallen from the marble lips above him.
