Authors: Mazo de la Roche
Tags: #FIC045000 – FICTION / Sagas
He caught Swift by the collar and jerked him away from Adeline.
“Take this,” he said, almost quietly, and began to strike Swift repeatedly.
“Oh, Daddy!” gasped Adeline. “Oh, Daddy!” She did not know whether she cried out in relief at his coming or terror that he would kill Swift. It was so dark she could see nothing, but could just hear the thud of blows and Swift’s exclamations of rage and pain. He was helpless in Renny’s hands.
As Renny pushed him between the evergreens to the lawn, the moon rose above the tree tops and sent a flood of silver light over house and lawn. It showed Swift standing with distorted face, one side of it covered with blood. Renny stood nearby him, his attitude still threatening. In a strangled voice Swift got out:
“You God-damned brute! I’ll get even with you for this!”
“what?” exclaimed Renny, advancing a step. “what? Get even with
me
? If I broke every bone in your body, it would be no more than you deserve. Now, get out!”
Swift turned and crossed the lawn toward the road. He took out his handkerchief and mopped the blood from his face. He kept muttering in helpless rage as he went.
Adeline, in terrified fascination, had followed the men to the lawn. Renny turned to her:
“Come,” he said.
She moved toward him as though she would cast herself into his arms but he held her off.
“I want to talk to you,” he said. “Come into the house.”
He saw that she had dropped her little evening bag and he picked it up. Alayne had given it to her on her last birthday. It was the first thing of the sort she had possessed and she had cherished it. But now seeing it lying on the ground she felt nothing and would have gone into the house and left it there.
She followed Renny meekly, feeling dazed. They went quietly into the hall where the light still burned. The rest of the house slept in darkness. He led the way to the grandmother’s room, which Adeline now occupied, and turned on the light there. It looked strange to the child. Even her father’s face seemed the face of a stranger as he looked searchingly into her eyes and said:
“It’s lucky for you that you struggled against that man.”
She stared up at him speechless.
Anger against her flared into his eyes. “why don’t you say something?” he demanded. “what did you do to encourage him? Men don’t behave like that without some encouragement. Did you let him make love to you? what were you talking about? what did he say to you?”
Her eyes looked large and tragic against her white face. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do! what had he been saying to you?”
“He’d — been talking about —”
“Yes? Go on.”
“About my soul.”
“Your
soul
! Good God! what else?”
“About the play and about how terribly Othello loved Desdemona … I think … I’m not sure.”
“Othello! That man took you to see
Othello
?”
She had forgotten the deception, the lie. She hung her head. “Yes.”
He sprang forward and took her by the shoulders. “You said you were going to a moving picture, and all the while you knew it was to be
Othello?”
“Yes.”
“Was Maurice there?”
“Yes.”
“You lied to your mother and to me. You went to a play you knew we’d not let you see. You spooned with that fellow in the dark —”
“No!” she shouted hoarsely. “I didn’t do that!”
He looked wildly about the room. His grandmother’s gold-headed ebony stick stood in a corner. Adeline had liked to see it there. Renny strode to it, grasped it and returned to her.
“No, no, Daddy!” she cried, in terror.
Three times he brought down the stick on her back. The door was thrown open and Alayne stood there in her nightdress. She threw herself on him. She thought: “He has gone out of his mind! Perhaps he will kill us.” who would come to her help? There were the two old men on the floor above and, far away on the top floor, Finch. Below in the basement there was Wragge. And Renny was so strong. With all her power she clung to him.
But he stood quietly now. He said, in a calm voice:
“You don’t understand, Alayne.”
“what is wrong?” she asked piteously.
“It’s this girl — our daughter,” he answered harshly. “She’s lied to us tonight. She did not go to a moving picture as she said she was. But went with Swift to see
Othello
.
Othello
, mind you! I waited up for her. I came on them in the darkness — in the black darkness of the drive — struggling together. It is well for her, I told her, that she was resisting him.”
An immense wave of relief swept over Alayne. His manner, his look, showed that he was sane. Nothing else seemed to matter. She took the ebony stick from his hand and replaced it in its corner. He stood quiet, his eyes fixed on Adeline. She had a white, stricken look.
Alayne spoke with authority. “Go to your room, Adeline. It’s very late for you. I’ll come up in a few minutes.”
Adeline raised her eyes to Renny’s face.
“Go up to bed,” he said.
She left the room, closing the door behind her.
Scarcely was the door shut when Alayne broke out: “Oh, how could you, Renny? How could you?”
“I had to,” he muttered. “I’ll make her more careful in the future.”
“But what were they doing?”
“It was dark, I tell you, and she was saying, ‘Don’t — don’t!’ How can I tell what led up to that?”
“Do you know how long they had been there?”
“Perhaps a quarter of an hour. I heard the car. I was down on the bridge. I came up and heard their voices.”
“Did she seem frightened?”
“Yes.”
“But why are you so angry with her?”
He said violently, “Do you expect me to pat my daughter on the back when she has lied about where she spent the evening? How do I know what encouragement she gave that man? You have seen
Othello
. You saw it with me — as a married woman. What do you think of the lines — of the scenes — for a young girl’s entertainment? She saw a
negro
in the part! what do you think of that?”
“I think Adeline is an innocent child. I’m as sorry as you are that —”
“As sorry as I am!” he broke in. “If you were nearly as sorry as I am, you wouldn’t stand there — as cool as a cucumber. I tell you, I’ll take a stick to her back every time she steps off the bee-line I shall lay down for her!”
“We can’t have scenes like this. I have faith in Adeline. She has a strong nature.”
“what do you know of the life of today?”
“I know something of human nature,” she answered steadily. “I’ve been married to two Whiteoaks and lived in your family for twenty years.”
“That has nothing to do with this case,” he said. He laid his hands on the footboard of the bed and stared at the head with its painted flowers and fruit.
A sudden picture of his grandmother lying in the bed came before him. A smile crossed his face.
Alayne looked down at his hands. She exclaimed in horror, “what is that on your hand?”
He looked at his left hand.
“No! The other one!”
He spread it out. “That! It’s blood.”
She had been pale but now every vestige of colour left her face. She did not speak but just looked at him in horror.
“That swine Swift’s blood. I’ll wager he’ll keep away from here in future.”
“Oh!” Her breath escaped in a sharp exhalation.
He turned toward her. “what did you think? That it was Adeline’s blood?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” she answered, controlling herself, “but I want you to go this instant and wash it off.”
“Very well.”
“Do you know what we did?” she exclaimed. “We forgot that Adeline sleeps in this room now and sent her upstairs to bed! I scarcely knew what I was saying.”
“It is small wonder if our minds are confused,” he said. “where do you suppose she has gone?”
“I’ll find her and bring her back to her room.”
“No petting, mind. She’s in disgrace.”
Alayne ignored this and left the room. He also left, going down the basement stairs as though it were noonday and not the middle of the night.
Alayne saw Adeline sitting on the top step of the stairs, her forehead against her knees. Alayne laid her hand on the newel post. She felt weak and shaken. She called softly:
“Adeline, come down. When your father and I sent you upstairs we forgot that you sleep in Grandmother’s room. You must come back and go to bed.”
Adeline rose obediently and descended the stairs. When her face was on a level with her mother’s, Alayne looked into it with a pang. It was so pale, so frightened. Poor child, she had had a shock. Alayne laid her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
“You see what a night you have brought on us all,” she said.
Adeline’s face was contorted as though she were about to cry but she did not dare to begin to cry. She was afraid of what she might do.
“Adeline, promise me that never — never in your life, will you do such a thing again.”
“I promise.” Stifling a sob she pushed past Alayne and ran into her room, shutting the door behind her.
Alayne thought, “If only she had thrown herself into my arms! But never shall we be near each other.” Her thoughts flew back to herself at Adeline’s age, the well-ordered life of an only child with her loving parents, the confidence between herself and her mother, the long talks, the complete understanding, the gentleness of her father. Now, in this house, she had given birth to children she could not understand. She loved a man whose nature was as mysterious to her as a storm-swept cavern by the sea. She climbed the stairs slowly and went to her room.
In the little washroom in the basement, Renny turned the rasping taps on and off. As he dried his hands on the rough towel he exclaimed aloud, “By God, I wish I’d given him more! I let him off too easy. I’ve a mind to go over to Vaughanlands and pull him out of bed and thrash him again.”
A scuffling step sounded on the brick floor of the passage. Rags appeared in the doorway in his pyjamas. Through a rent in the jacket his thin shoulder protruded.
“Was you wanting anything, sir?” he enquired, with an inquisitive look.
Renny let the water run from the basin and threw the towel into it. “No. Did I wake you?”
“Well, I’m not sure, sir. But it ain’t usual for you to be washing down ’ere at this hour.”
“Don’t ever have a daughter, Rags.”
“Trust me, sir.”
“Boys are all right, but girls —”
“There isn’t a finer little lidy in the countryside than Miss Adeline, sir. I ’ope she ’asn’t been doing anythink to annoy you, sir.”
“Oh, not especially, but I hate to see her growing up at this particular time.”
“It’s a lousy world, sir, and no mistake.”
“Well, go back to bed, Rags. The night’s well on.”
“Couldn’t I get you a drink of something?”
“No, no, go to bed.”
Renny ascended the stairs. Outside Adeline’s room he stopped and listened. There was no sound within. For a moment he had an impulse to go in and make her repeat to him the happenings of the evening from first to last — by some overpowering act of his own to cleanse her from Swift’s touch. His own little girl! His anger welled up against young Maurice who had exposed her to this by his carelessness — his lying. Perhaps it all had been arranged between Swift and him. Who knew what Maurice really was?
He strode into the library and took the receiver from the telephone. He asked for the number he wanted. The bell buzzed several times, then Maurice’s voice answered.
“Is that you, Maurice?”
“Yes, Uncle Renny.”
“Still up, eh?”
“Yes. I was reading.”
“Reading
Othello
, I suppose.”
There was a moment’s silence, then Maurice answered:
“Yes.”
Renny exclaimed, in a voice harsh with anger, “I won’t trouble telling you what I think of you. Send your father to the phone.”
“Uncle Renny, please let me explain.”
“I don’t want any of your explanations!” shouted Renny. “Send Piers to the phone.”
“But he’s in bed asleep. It’s past two o’clock.”
“what the hell do I care what time it is! Tell him I want to speak to him.”
“But Uncle Renny —”
“If you don’t send him to the phone I’ll drive over there and rouse him myself.”
“Very well.”
Renny sat motionless, a grim smile on his lips, waiting for Piers’ voice. It came.
“Hullo, Renny. What’s the matter?”
“I wish you were here. I’d like to talk to you.”
“what’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
Piers now spoke with false composure. “Please tell me what you want me to do. Do you want me at Jalna?”
Renny unleashed the anger in his voice. “No. I just want you to thrash your eldest son for me.”
“what has he done?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“Well, he took my daughter to see a negro actor in
Othello
tonight. Rather a sensual play for a very young girl, isn’t it? But he didn’t tell me he was taking her. Nor you, nor his mother, I’ll bet. He said he was taking her to a movie. Swift went with them. Maurice left Swift to bring Adeline to the house. I found them in the pitch dark in the drive — struggling together. He’d been trying to make love to her. This is what Maurice exposed my daughter to.”
“what did you do?”
“Gave Swift something to remember and took Gran’s stick to Adeline’s back.”
“Gosh!”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“You mustn’t take it too seriously, Renny.”
“what — what?” shouted Renny.
“Hang on to yourself. What I mean is, Adeline will forget this — or almost forget it — if you’ll let her.”
“My God, I wish
you
had a daughter — then you’d know how I feel!”
“I have an eldest son who is a disappointment. He always was spineless, and living with that old man in Ireland did him no good. I’ve always disliked Swift. He’ll never come into my house again. As for Maurice — I’ll tell him what I think of him.”
“Tell him from me that he’s not to see Adeline — nor speak to her for the rest of the holidays.”
“All right. You’d better go to bed now, old man.”
“I’ll not go to bed tonight. What would be the use? I couldn’t sleep.”