Home > Authors Index > Edward Payson Roe > Face Illumined > This page
A Face Illumined, a novel by Edward Payson Roe |
||
Chapter 28. Rather Volcanic |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ Chapter XXVIII. Rather Volcanic Stanton was glad to escape from the house after the interview described in the previous chapter; and observing that Van Berg was reclining under a tree at some little distance from the hotel, stolled thither and threw himself down on the grass beside him. But his perturbation was so evident that his friend remarked: "You are out of sorts, Ik. What's the matter?" "I've been settling this Sibley business with my aunt and cousin," snarled Stanton; "and some women always make such blasted fools of themselves. But they won't have anything more to do with him; at least, I'm sure my aunt won't. As for Ida--but the less said the better. I'm so out of patience with her folly that I can't trust myself to speak of her." "Stanton," said Van Berg, gloomily, "you have no idea of the regret and disquiet which that girl has caused me as an artist. I have seen her features now for weeks, and I cannot help looking at them, for they almost realize my idea of perfection. But the associations of this beauty are beginning to irritate me beyond endurance." "It was a motley crowd that I was the means of bringing to your table," said Stanton, with an oath; "and I've no doubt you have wished us all away many times." Van Berg laid his hand on his friend's arm, and looked into his eyes. "Ik," he said slowly, "I was your friend when I came here--I am your friend still. If I cannot love you better than I do myself, you must forgive me. But I shall never take one unfair advantage of you, and I recognize the fact that you have equal rights with myself. Ik, let us be frank with each other this once more, and then the future must settle all questions. The woman we both love is too pure and good for either of us to do a mean thing to win her. Do your best, old fellow. If you succeed, I will congratulate you with an honest heart even thought it be a heavy one. I shall not detract from you in the slightest degree, or cease to show for you the thorough liking and respect that I feel. It shall simply be a maiden's choice between us two; and you know it is said that the heart makes this choice for reasons inexplicable even to itself." "Van, you are a noble, generous fellow," said the impulsive Stanton, grasping his friend's hand. "I must admit that you have been a fair and considerate rival. Even my jealousy could find no fault." Then he added, in deep despondency: "But it is of no use. You have virtually won her already." "No," said Van Berg, thoughtfully, "I wish you were not mistaken, but you are. There is something in her manner towards me at times which I cannot understand; but I have a conviction that I have not touched her heart." "She does not avoid you as she does me," said Stanton, moodily. "No, she accepts my society much too frankly and composedly," answered Van Berg with a shrug. "I fear that I can join her anywhere and at any time without quickening her pulse or deepening the color in her cheeks. Now, Ik, we understand each other. Happy the man who wins, and if you are the fortunate one, I'll dance at your wedding, and no one shall see that I carry a thousand pounds weight, more or less, in my heart." "I can't promise to do as much for you, Van," said Stanton, trying to smile. "I could not come to your wedding. In fact, Van, I--I hardly know what I would do--what I will do. A few weeks since and the world was abundantly satisfactory. Now it is becoming a vacuum. I fear I haven't a ghost of a chance, and I--I--don't like to think of the future. Ye gods! What a change one little woman can make in a man's life! I used to laugh at these things, and for the past few years thought myself invulnerable. And yet, Van," he added with sudden energy, "I think the better of myself that I can love and honor that woman. Did I regard her now as I supposed I would when you first uttered your half-jesting prophecy, what a base, soulless anatomy I would be---" "SACRE! here comes Sibley and others of the same ilk, gabbling like the unmitigated fools that they are." Van Berg turned his back upon the advancing party in an unmistakable manner, and Stanton smoked with a stolid, impassive face that had anything but welcome in it. Sibley was just sufficiently excited by wine to act out recklessly his evil self. "What's the matter, Stanton?" he exclaimed. "Your phiz is as long as if the world looked black and blue as a prize-fighter's eye. Is Sunday an off day in your flirtation? Does the little school-ma'am take after her Puritan daddies, and say 'Hold thy hand till Monday?' Get her out of the crowd, and you'll find it all a pretence." Stanton rose to his feet, but was so quiet that Sibley did not realize the storm he was raising. Van Berg remained on the ground with his back to the party, but was smoking furiously. By an effort at self-control that made his voice harsh and constrained, Stanton said, briefly: "Mr. Sibley, I request that you never mention that lady's name to me again in any circumstances. I request that you never mention her name to any one else except in tones and words of the utmost respect. I make these requests politely, as is befitting the day and my own self-respect; but if you disregard them the consequences to you will be very serious." "Good Lord, Stanton! has she treated you so badly! But don't take it to heart. It's all Yankee thrift, designed to enhance her value. We are all men of the world here, and know what women are. If it is true every man has his price, every woman has a smaller---" Before he could utter another word a blow in his face from Stanton sent him sprawling to the earth. He sprang up and was about to draw a concealed weapon, when his companions interfered and held him. "I shall settle with you for this," he half shouted, grinding his teeth. "You shall indeed, sir," said Stanton, "and as early, too, as the light will permit to-morrow. Here is my friend Mr. Van Berg," pointing to the artist who stood beside him, "and you have your friends with you. You must either apologize, or meet me as soon as Sunday is past." "I'll meet you now," cried Sibley, with a volley of oaths. "I want no cowardly subterfuge of Sunday." Stanton hesitated a moment, and then said decidedly: "No; I'm not a blackguard like yourself, and out of respect for the Sabbath and others I will have nothing more to do with you to-day; but I will meet you tomorrow as soon as it is light;" and Stanton turned away to avoid further provocation. Van Berg thus far had stood quietly to one side, but his face had that white, rigid aspect which indicates the rare but dangerous anger of men usually quiet and undemonstrative in their natures. "Now that you are through, Stanton, I have something to say concerning this affair," he began, in words that were as clean-cut and hard as steel. "If you propose to give this fellow a dog's whipping to-morrow, I will go with you and witness the well-deserved chastisement. But if you are intending a conventional duel, I'll have nothing to do with it, for two reasons. The first reason this fellow will not understand. Dueling is against my principles, and he knows nothing of principle. But even if I accepted the old and barbarous code, I should insist that a friend of mine should fight with a gentleman, and not a low blackguard." "You use that epithet again at your peril," hissed Sibley, advancing a step towards him. Van Berg made a gesture of contempt toward the speaker as he turned and said: "You understand me, Stanton; it is not from any lack of loyalty toward you as my friend; but I would not be worthy of your friendship were I false to my sense of duty and honor." "You are both white-livered cowards," roared Sibley. "One sneaks off under cover of the day--I never saw a fellow taken with a pious fit so suddenly before. The other, in order to keep his skin whole, prates of his dread lest his principles be punctured. the devil take you both for a brace of champion sneaks;" and he turned on his heel and was about to stalk away with a grand air of superiority, when Van Berg said, emphatically: "Wait a moment; I'm not through with you yet. I give you but a brief half-hour to complete your arrangements for leaving the hotel." "What do you mean?" said Sibley, turning fiercely upon him. "I mean, sir, that your presence in that house is an insult to every lady in it, which I, as a gentleman, shall no longer permit. Curse you, had you no mother that you could thus insult all good women by the remark you made a few moments since?" Half beside himself with rage, Sibley drew a pistol; but before he could aim correctly one of his companions struck up his hand and the bullet whizzed harmlessly over Van Berg's head. There was a faint scream from the house, which indicated that the scene had been witnessed by some lady there. The intense passion of the artist, which manifested itself characteristically, held him unflinching to his purpose. "So you can be a murderer also?" he said, scornfully. "It would almost compensate a man for being SHOT, if, as a result, you could be HUNG." Sibley's companions speedily disarmed him, strongly remonstrating in the meantime. He, in sudden revulsion, began to realize what he had attempted, and his flushed face became very pale. "Let them leave me alone," he growled sullenly, "and I'll leave them alone." "For Heaven's sake, Mr. Van Berg," cried Sibley's companions, "let the matter end here, lest worse come of it." In the same steely, relentless tones, which made very word seem like a bullet, Van Berg took out his watch, and said: "It is now four o'clock, sir. After half-past four, you must not show your libertine's face in that house again, while there's a lady in it that I respect." "Burleigh is proprietor of that house," replied Sibley, doggedly; "and I'll stay up the entire week, just to spite you." "Let us go to Burleigh, then," said the artist, promptly. "We will settle this question at once." Sibley readily agreed to this appeal to his host, fully believing that he would try to smooth over matters and assure Van Berg that he could not turn away a wealthy and profitable guest; and so, without further parley, they all repaired to Mr. Burleigh's private office, arousing that gentleman from an afternoon nap to a state of mind that effectually banished drowsiness for the remainder of the day. "Mr. Burleigh," began Sibley, indignantly, "this fellow, Van Berg, has the impudence to say that I must leave this house within half an hour. I wish you to inform him that YOU are the proprietor of this establishment." "Humph," remarked Mr. Burleigh, phlegmatically, "that is your side of the story. Now, Mr. Van Berg, let us have yours." "Mr. Burleigh," said Van Berg, in tones that straightened up the languid host in his easy chair, "would you permit a known and recognized disreputable woman to be flaunting about this hotel?" "You know me better than to ask such a question," said the landlord, the color of his ruddy cheeks suddenly deepening. "Well, sir, I claim that a man who bears precisely the same character is no more to be tolerated; and I have learned to respect you as one whom no consideration could induce to permit the presence of a human beast, whose every thought of woman is an insult." "It's all an infernal lie," began Sibley. "I only made a slight, half-jesting allusion to that prudish little school-ma'am that these fellows are so cracked over; and they have gone on like mad bulls ever since." Mr. Burleigh started to his feet with a tremendous oath. "You made an 'allusion,' as you term it, to Miss Burton, eh!--the young lady who was put under my charge, and who comes from one of the best families in New England. I know what kind of allusions fellows of your kidney make;" and the incensed host struck his bell sharply. "Send the porter here instantly," he said to the boy who answered. "What do you mean to do?" asked Sibley, turning pale. "I mean to put you out of my house within the next ten minutes," said Mr. Burleigh, emphatically. "You might as well have made an allusion to my wife as to Miss Burton; and let me tell you that if you wag your wanton tongue again, I'll have my colored waiters whip you off the premises." "But where shall I go?" whined Sibley, now thoroughly cowed. "Go to the nearest kennel or sty you can find. Either place would be more appropriate for you than my house. Mr. Van Berg and Mr. Stanton, I think you for your conduct in this affair. You are correct in supposing that I wish to entertain only gentlemen and ladies." Sibley now began to bluster about law and vengeance. "Be still, sir," thundered Mr. Burleigh. "One of the carriages will take you to the depot or landing as you choose. After that, trouble me or mine again at your peril. Now, be off. No, I'll not take any of your dirty money; and if these friends of yours wish to go with you, they are welcome to do so." "We are only acquaintances of Mr. Sibley's," chorused his late companions, "and came in merely to see fair play." "Well, you haven't seen 'fair play,'" growled Mr. Burleigh. "I've treated the fellow much better than he deserves." Before Sibley could realize it, a carriage whirled him and his baggage away. His reckless anger having evaporated, the base and cowardly instincts of his nature resumed their sway, and he was glad to slink off to New York, thus escaping further danger and trouble. _ |
||