Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 14 (11 page)

 
          
           
"And
I
think that I leave a more
dangerous person than myself behind me, as poor Lucia can testify."

 
          
           
"Be careful what you say, Ned, or I shall be forced to remind you that I
am master here.
Leave Lucia's name out of this disagreeable
affair, if you please."

 
          
           
"You
are
master here, but not of
me, or my actions, and you have no right to expect obedience or respect, for
you inspire neither. Jean, I asked you to go with me secretly; now I ask you
openly to share my fortune. In my brother's presence I ask, and
will
have an answer."

 
          
           
He caught her hand impetuously, with a defiant look at
Coventry
, who still smiled, as if at boy's play,
though his eyes were kindling and his face changing with the still, white wrath
which is more terrible than any sudden outburst. Miss Muir looked frightened;
she shrank away from her passionate young lover, cast an appealing glance at
Gerald, and seemed as if she longed to claim his protection yet dared not.

 
          
           
"Speak!" cried Edward, desperately. "Don't look to him, tell me
truly, with your own lips, do you, can you love me, Jean?"

 
          
           
"I have told you once. Why pain me by forcing another hard reply,"
she said pitifully, still shrinking from his grasp and seeming to appeal to his
brother.

 
          
           
"You wrote a few lines, but I'll not be satisfied with that. You shall
answer; I've seen love in your eyes, heard it in your voice, and I know it is
hidden in your heart. You fear to own it; do not hesitate, no one can part
us—speak, Jean, and satisfy me."

 
          
           
Drawing her hand decidedly away, she went a step nearer
Coventry
, and answered, slowly, distinctly, though
her lips trembled, and she evidently dreaded the effect of her words, "I
will speak, and speak truly. You have seen love in my face; it is in my heart,
and I do not hesitate to own it, cruel as it is to force the truth from me, but
this love is not for you. Are you satisfied?"

 
          
           
He looked at her with a despairing glance and stretched his hand toward her
beseechingly. She seemed to fear a blow, for suddenly she clung to Gerald with
a faint cry. The act, the look of fear, the protecting gesture
Coventry
involuntarily made
were
too much for Edward, already excited by conflicting passions. In a paroxysm of
blind wrath, he caught up a large pruning knife left there by the gardener, and
would have dealt his brother a fatal blow had he not warded it off with his
arm. The stroke fell, and another might have followed had not Miss Muir with
unexpected courage and strength wrested the knife from Edward and flung it into
the little pond near by.
Coventry
dropped down upon the seat, for the blood poured from a deep wound in
his arm, showing by its rapid flow that an artery had been severed. Edward
stood aghast, for with the blow his fury passed, leaving him overwhelmed with
remorse and shame.

 
          
           
Gerald looked up at him, smiled faintly, and said, with no sign of reproach or
anger, "Never mind, Ned. Forgive and forget. Lend me a hand to the house,
and don't disturb anyone. It's not much, I dare say." But his lips
whitened as he spoke, and his strength failed him. Edward sprang to support
him, and Miss Muir, forgetting her terrors, proved herself a girl of uncommon
skill and courage.

 
          
           
"Quick! Lay him down. Give me your handkerchief, and bring some
water," she said, in a tone of quiet command. Poor Ned obeyed and watched
her with breathless suspense while she tied the handkerchief tightly around the
arm, thrust the handle of his riding whip underneath, and pressed it firmly
above the severed artery to stop the dangerous flow of blood.

 
          
           
"Dr. Scott is with your mother, I think. Go and bring him here" was
the next order; and Edward darted away, thankful to do anything to ease the
terror which possessed him. He was gone some minutes, and while they waited
Coventry
watched the girl as she knelt beside him,
bathing his face with one hand while with the other she held the bandage firmly
in its place. She was pale, but quite steady and self-possessed, and her eyes
shone with a strange brilliancy as she looked down at him. Once, meeting his
look of grateful wonder, she smiled a reassuring smile that made her lovely,
and said, in a soft, sweet tone never used to him before, "Be quiet. There
is no danger. I will stay by you till help comes."

 
          
           
Help did come speedily, and the doctor's first words were "Who improvised
that tourniquet?"

 
          
           
"She did," murmured
Coventry
.

 
          
           
"Then you may thank her for saving your life. By Jove! It was capitally
done"; and the old doctor looked at the girl with as much admiration as
curiosity in his face.

 
          
           
"Never mind that.
See to the wound, please, while
I ran for bandages, and salts, and wine."

 
          
           
Miss Muir was gone as she spoke, so fleetly that it was in vain to call her
back or catch her. During her brief absence, the story was told by repentant
Ned and the wound examined.

 
          
           
"Fortunately I have my case of instruments with me," said the doctor,
spreading on the bench a long array of tiny, glittering implements of torture.
"Now, Mr. Ned, come here, and
hold
the arm in
that way, while I tie the artery. Hey! That will never do. Don't tremble so,
man, look away and hold it steadily."

 
          
           
"I can't!" And poor Ned turned faint and white, not at the sight but
with the bitter thought that he had longed to kill his brother.

 
          
           
"I will hold it," and a slender white hand lifted the bare and bloody
arm so firmly, steadily, that
Coventry
sighed a sigh of relief, and Dr. Scott fell
to work with an emphatic nod of approval.

 
          
           
It was soon over, and while Edward ran in to bid the servants beware of
alarming their mistress, Dr. Scott put up his instruments and Miss Muir used
salts, water, and wine so skillfully that Gerald was able to walk to his room,
leaning on the old man, while the girl supported the wounded arm, as no sling
could be made on the spot. As he entered the chamber, Coventry turned, put out
his left hand, and with much feeling in his fine eyes said simply, "Miss
Muir, I thank you."

 
          
           
The color came up beautifully in her pale cheeks as she pressed the hand and
without a word vanished from the room. Lucia and the housekeeper came bustling
in, and there was no lack of attendance on the invalid. He soon wearied of it,
and sent them all away but Ned, who remorsefully haunted the chamber, looking
like a comely young Cain and feeling like an outcast.

 
          
           
"Come here, lad, and tell me all about it. I was wrong to be domineering.
Forgive me, and believe that I care for your happiness more sincerely than for
my own."

 
          
           
These frank and friendly words healed the breach between the two brothers and
completely conquered Ned. Gladly did he relate his love passages, for no young
lover ever tires of that amusement if he has a sympathizing
auditor,
and Gerald
was
sympathetic now. For
an hour did he lie listening patiently to the history of the growth of his
brother's
passion.
Emotion gave the narrator
eloquence, and Jean Muir's character was painted in glowing colors. All her
unsuspected kindness to those about her was dwelt upon; all her faithful care,
her sisterly interest in Bella, her gentle attentions to their mother, her
sweet forbearance with Lucia, who plainly showed her dislike, and most of all,
her friendly counsel, sympathy, and regard for Ned himself.

 
          
           
"She would make a man of me. She puts strength and courage into me as no
one else can. She is unlike any girl I ever saw; there's no sentimentality
about her; she is wise, and kind, and sweet. She says what she means, looks you
straight in the eye, and is as true as steel. I've tried her, I know her,
and—ah, Gerald, I love her so!"

 
          
           
Here the poor lad leaned his face into his hands and sighed a sigh that made
his brother's heart ache.

 
          
           
"Upon my soul, Ned, I feel for you; and if there was no obstacle on her
part, I'd do my best for you. She loves
Sydney
, and so there is nothing for it but to bear
your fate like a man."

 
          
           
"Are you sure about
Sydney
? May it not be some one else?" and Ned eyed his brother with a
suspicious look.

 
          
           
Coventry
told him all he knew and surmised
concerning his friend, not forgetting the letter. Edward mused a moment, then
seemed relieved, and said frankly, "I'm glad it's Sydney and not you. I
can bear it better."

 
          
           
"Me!" ejaculated Gerald, with a laugh.

 
          
           
"Yes, you; I've been tormented lately with a fear that you cared for her,
or rather, she for you."

 
          
           
"You jealous young fool! We never see or speak to one another scarcely, so
how could we get up a tender interest?"

 
          
           
"What do you lounge about on that terrace for every evening? And why does
she get fluttered when your shadow begins to come and go?" demanded
Edward.

 
          
           
"I like the music and don't care for the society of the singer, that's why
I walk there. The fluttering is all your imagination; Miss Muir isn't a woman
to be fluttered by a man's shadow." And
Coventry
glanced at his useless arm.

 
          
           
"Thank you for that, and for not saying 'little Muir,' as you generally
do. Perhaps it was my imagination. But she never makes fun of you now, and so I
fancied she might have lost her heart to the 'young master.' Women often do,
you know."

 
          
           
"She used to ridicule me, did she?" asked
Coventry
, taking no notice of the latter part of his
brother's speech, which was quite true nevertheless.

 
          
           
"Not exactly, she was too well-bred for that. But sometimes when Bella and
I joked about you, she'd say something so odd or witty that it was
irresistible. You're used to being laughed at, so you don't mind, I know, just
among
ourselves
."

 
          
           
"
Not
I.
Laugh away as much as you like," said Gerald. But he did mind, and wanted
exceedingly to know what Miss Muir had said, yet was too proud to ask. He
turned restlessly and uttered a sigh of pain.

 
          
           
"I'm talking too much; it's bad for you. Dr. Scott said you must be quiet.
Now go to sleep, if you can."

 
          
           
Edward left the bedside but not the room, for he would let no one take his
place.
Coventry
tried to sleep, found it impossible, and
after a restless hour called his brother back.

 
          
           
"If the bandage was loosened a bit, it would ease my arm and then I could
sleep. Can you do it, Ned?"