"Hush! I will not hear this. It is false--it is cruel. There was no quarrel between them--no evil blood."

"No quarrel--no evil blood! She says that, looking meek as a spring-lamb, chewing the lie in her mouth as that does clover. But what if I tell you that the old man in yonder knew just all that happened after I was turned out of the kitchen that night?"

"It was you who told him that which might have brought great trouble on him and me; only good men are slow to believe evil of those they love. I knew from his own lips that you had waylaid him in the park with a wicked falsehood."

"It was the truth, every word of it," exclaimed Storms, stamping his foot on the floor. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"Saw what?" faltered the girl, sick with apprehension.

"Saw! But I need not tell you. Only the next time Sir Noel's heir comes here, with his orders for flowers, and his wanting to know all about growing roses, have a curtain to the kitchen window, or train the ivy thicker over it. Now do you understand?"

"It is you who cannot understand," said Ruth, feeling a glow of courage, which the young man mistook for shame. "The thing you did was a mean act, and if I had never hated you before, that would be cause enough."

"This is bra.s.s. After all, I did think to see some sign of shame."

Ruth turned away, faint with terror and disgust.

"You may thank me that I told no one but the old man in yonder. Had I gone to Sir Noel--"

"No, no--you could not; you dare not!"

"Dare not! Well, now, I like that. Some day you will know how much I dare."

"But why--why do you wish to injure me?"

"Why does a hound snap when you mock him with a dainty bit of beef, and while his mouth waters, and his eyes gloat, toss it beyond his reach? You have learned something of the kennels, Ruth Jessup, and should know that men and hounds are alike in this."

Ruth could hardly suppress the scorn that crept through her into silence. But she felt that this man held an awful power over everything she loved, and gave no expression to her bitter loathing.

"Do you mean to let me in?" said Storms, almost coaxingly. "I want to have a word with the old man."

Ruth stood aside. She dared not oppose him; but when free to pa.s.s, he hesitated, and a look of nervous anxiety came over his features.

"The old man doesn't speak much; hasn't said how it all happened, ha?"

"He has said nothing about it," answered Ruth, struck with new terror.

The look of cool audacity came back to her enemy's face, and, without more ceremony, he pushed his way into the wounded man's room.

CHAPTER XXVI.

TRUE AS STEEL.

Jessup was lying with his eyes closed, and his mouth firmly compressed, as if in pain. But the tread of heavy feet on the floor aroused him, and he opened his eyes in languid wonder. The sight of Storms brought slow fire to his eyes.

"Is it you--you?" he whispered, sharply.

"Yes, neighbor Jessup, it is I," answered Storms. "Father is sadly put about, and wants to know how it all happened. He means to have justice done, if no one else stirs in the matter--and I think with him."

A look of keen, almost ferocious anxiety, darkened the young man's face as he said this.

"That is kind and neighborly," answered the gardener, moving restlessly in his bed. "But there is nothing to tell."

Storms looked at the sick man in dumb amazement. Up to this time his manner had been anxious, and his voice hurried. Now a dark red glow rose to his face, and blazed from his eyes with a glare of relief.

"Nothing to tell, and you shot through the shoulder, in a way that has set the whole country side in commotion? This is a pretty tale to go home with."

The young man spoke cheerfully, and with a sort of chuckle in his voice.

"It is the truth," said Jessup, closing his eyes.

"But some one shot you."

"It was an accident," whispered the sick man.

"An accident! Oh! was it an accident?"

"Nothing worse."

"Are you in earnest, Jessup?"

"Do I look like a man who jokes?" said the gardener, with a slow smile.

"And you are willing to swear to this?"

"No one will want me to swear. No harm worth speaking of has been done."

"Don't you be sure of that," answered Storms. "The peace has been broken, and two men have been badly hurt. This is work for a magistrate."

Jessup shook his pale head on the pillow, and spoke with some energy.

"I tell you it was an accident; my gun went off."

"And I tell you it was no accident. I saw it all with my own eyes."

"You--you saw it all?" exclaimed Jessup, rising on his elbow. "You!"

"Just as plain as a bright moon and stars could show it to me."

"How? How--"

Jessup had struggled up from his pillow, but fell back almost fainting, with his wild eyes fixed steadily on the young man's face.

"I had just pa.s.sed under the cedar-trees, when you came in sight, walking fast, as if you were in a hurry to find some one."