The Hunted Woman by James Oliver Curwood (highly illogical behavior .TXT) 📕

/> "We confronted him--the mother, the baby, and I; and then I knew that he was a fiend. And the father was a fiend. They offered to buy the woman off, to support her and the child. They told me that many English gentlemen had made mistakes like this, and that it was nothing--that it was quite common. Mortimer FitzHugh had never touched me with his lips, and now, when he came to touch me with his hands, I struck him. It was a serpent's house, and I left it.
"My father had left me a comfortable fortune, and I went into a house of my own. Day after day they came to me, and I knew that they feared I was going to secure a divorce. During the six months that followed I learned other things about the man who was legally my husband. He was everything that was vile. Brazenly he went into public places with women of dishonour, and I hid my face in shame.
"His father died, and for a time Mortimer FitzHugh became one of the talked-about spendthrifts of London. Swiftly he gambled and dissipated himself into comparative poverty. And now, learning that I would not get a divorce, he began to regard me as a slave in chains. I remember, one time, that he succeeded in laying his hands on me, and they were like the touch of things that were slimy and poisonous. He laughed at my revulsion. He demanded money of me, and to keep him away from me I gave it to him. Again and again he came for money; I suffered as I cannot tell you, but never once in my misery did I weaken in my promise to my father and to myself. But--at last--I ran away.
"I went to Egypt, and then to India. A year later I learned that Mortimer FitzHugh had gone to America, and I returned to London. For two years I heard nothing of him; but day and night I lived in fear and dread. And then came the news that he had died, as you read in the newspaper clipping. I was free! For a year I believed that; and then, like a shock that had come to destroy me, I was told that he _was not dead_ but that he was alive, and in a place called Tete Jaune Cache, in British Columbia. I could not live in the terrible suspense that followed. I determined to find out for myself if he was alive or dead. And so I came, John Aldous. And he is dead. He is down there--dead. And I am glad that he is dead!"
"And if he was not dead," said Aldous quietly, "I would kill him!"
He could find nothing more to say than that. He dared trust himself no further, and in silence he held out his hands, and for a moment Joanne gave him her own. Then she withdrew them, and with a little gesture, and the smile which he loved to see trembling about her mouth, she said:
"Donald will think this is scandalous. We must go back and apologize!"
She led him down the slope, and her face was filled with the pink flush of a wild rose when she ran up to Donald, and asked him to help her into her saddle. John Aldous rode like one in a dream as they went back into the valley, for with each minute that passed Joanne seemed more and more to him like a beautiful bird that had escaped from its prison-cage, and in him mind and soul were absorbed in the wonder of it and in his own rejoicing. She was free, and in her freedom she was happy!
Free! It was that thought that pounded steadily in his brain. He forgot Quade, and Culver Rann, and the gold; he forgot his own danger, his own work, almost his own existence. Of a sudden the world had become infinitesimally small for him, and all he could see was the soft shimmer of Joanne's hair in the sun, the wonder of her face, the marvellous blue of her eyes--and all he could hear was the sweet thrill of her voice when she spoke to him or old Donald, and when, now and then, soft laughter trembled on her lips in the sheer joy of the life that had dawned anew for her this day.
They stopped for dinner, and then went on over the range and down into the valley where lay Tete Jaune. And all this time he fought to keep from flaming in his own face the desire that was like a hot fire within him--the desire to go to Joanne and tell her that he loved her as he had never dreamed it possible for love to exist in the whole wide world. He knew that to surrender to that desire in this hour would be something like sacrilege. He did not guess that Joanne saw his struggle, that even old MacDonald mumbled low words in his beard. When they came at last to Blackton's bungalow he thought that he had kept this thing from her, and he did not see--and would not have understood if he had seen--the wonderful and mysterious glow in Joanne's eyes when she kissed Peggy Blackton.
Blackton had come in from the work-end, dust-covered and jubilant.
"I'm glad you folks have returned," he cried, beaming with enthusiasm as he gripped Aldous by the hand. "The last rock is packed, and to-night we're going to shake the earth. We're going to blow up Coyote Number Twenty-seven, and you won't forget the sight as long as you live!"
Not until Joanne had disappeared into the house with Peggy Blackton did Aldous feel that he had descended firmly upon his feet once more into a matter-of-fact world. MacDonald was waiting with the horses, and Blackton was pointing over toward the steel workers, and was saying something about ten thousand pounds of black powder and dynamite and a mountain that had stood a million years and was going to be blown up that night.
"It's the best bit of work I've ever done, Aldous--that and Coyote Number Twenty-eight. Peggy was going to touch the electric button to Twenty-seven to-night, but we've decided to let Miss Gray do that, and Peggy'll fire Twenty-eight to-morrow night. Twenty-eight is almost ready. If you say so, the bunch of us will go over and see it in the morning. Mebby Miss Gray would like to see for herself that a coyote isn't only an animal with a bushy tail, but a cavern dug into rock an' filled with enough explosives to play high jinks with all the navies in the world if they happened to be on hand at the time. What do you say?"
"Fine!" said Aldous.
"And Peggy wants me to say that it's a matter of only common, every-day decency on your part to make yourself our guest while here," added the contractor, stuffing his pipe. "We've got plenty of room, enough to eat, and a comfortable bed for you. You're going to be polite enough to accept, aren't you?"
"With all my heart," exclaimed Aldous, his blood tingling at the thought of being near Joanne. "I've got some business with MacDonald and as soon as that's over I'll domicile myself here. It's bully of you, Blackton! You know----"
"Why, dammit, of course I know!" chuckled Blackton, lighting his pipe. "Can't I see, Aldous? D'ye think I'm blind? I was just as gone over Peggy before I married her. Fact is, I haven't got over it yet--and never will. I come up from the work four times a day regular to see her, and if I don't come I have to send up word I'm safe. Peggy saw it first. She said it was a shame to put you off in that cabin with Miss Gray away up here. I don't want to stick my nose in your business, old man, but--by George!--I congratulate you! I've only seen one lovelier woman in my life, and that's Peggy."
He thrust out a hand and pumped his friend's limp arm, and Aldous felt himself growing suddenly warm under the other's chuckling gaze.
"For goodness sake don't say anything, or act anything, old man," he pleaded. "I'm--just--hoping."
Blackton nodded with prodigious understanding in his eyes.
"Come along when you get through with MacDonald," he said. "I'm going in and clean up for to-night's fireworks."
A question was in Aldous' mind, but he did not put it in words. He wanted to know about Quade and Culver Rann.
"Blackton is such a ridiculously forgetful fellow at times that I don't want to rouse his alarm," he said to MacDonald as they were riding toward the corral a few minutes later. "He might let something out to Joanne and his wife, and I've got reasons--mighty good reasons, Mac--for keeping this affair as quiet as possible. We'll have to discover what Rann and Quade are doing ourselves."
MacDonald edged his horse in nearer to Aldous.
"See here, Johnny, boy--tell me what's in your mind?"
Aldous looked into the grizzled face, and there was something in the glow of the old mountaineer's eyes that made him think of a father.
"You know, Mac."
Old Donald nodded.
"Yes, I guess I do, Johnny," he said in a low voice. "You think of Mis' Joanne as I used to--to--think of _her_. I guess I know. But--what you goin' to do?"
Aldous shook his head, and for the first time that afternoon a look of uneasiness and gloom overspread his face.
"I don't know, Mac. I'm not ashamed to tell you. I love her. If she were to pass out of my life to-morrow I would ask for something that belonged to her, and the spirit of her would live in it for me until I died. That's how I care, Mac. But I've known her such a short time. I can't tell her yet. It wouldn't be the square thing. And yet she won't remain in Tete Jaune very long. Her mission is accomplished. And if--if she goes I can't very well follow her, can I, Mac?"
For a space old Donald was silent. Then he said, "You're thinkin' of me, Johnny, an' what we was planning on?"
"Partly."
"Then don't any more. I'll stick to you, an' we'll stick to her. Only----"
"What?"
"If you could get Peggy Blackton to help you----"
"You mean----" began Aldous eagerly.
"That if Peggy Blackton got her to stay for a week--mebby ten days--visitin' her, you know, it wouldn't be so bad if you told her then, would it, Johnny?"
"By George, it wouldn't!"
"And I think----"
"Yes----"
"Bein' an old man, an' seein' mebby what you don't see----"
"Yes----"
"That she'd take you, Johnny."
In his breast John's heart seemed suddenly to give a jump that choked him. And while he stared ahead old Donald went on.
"I've seen it afore, in a pair of eyes just like her eyes, Johnny--so soft an' deeplike, like the sky up there when the sun's in it. I seen it when we was ridin' behind an' she looked ahead at you, Johnny. I did. An' I've seen it afore. An' I think----"
Aldous waited, his heart-strings ready to snap.
"An' I think--she likes you a great deal, Johnny."
Aldous reached over and gripped MacDonald's hand.
"The good Lord bless you, Donald! We'll stick! As for Quade and Culver Rann----"
"I've been thinkin' of them," interrupted MacDonald. "You haven't got time to waste on them, Johnny. Leave 'em to me. If it's only a week you've got to be close an' near by Mis' Joanne. I'll find out what Quade an' Rann are doing, and what they're goin' to do. I've got a scheme. Will you leave 'em to me?"
Aldous nodded, and in the same breath informed MacDonald of Peggy Blackton's invitation. The old hunter chuckled