"So much the better that she can leave you, I suppose," answered Storms, still holding the sick man's hand, with a finger on the pulse, while a slow cloud stole over his face. "The fever all gone? Why, man, we shall have you about in another week."

Jessup shook his head, and laid the hand he released from the young man's grasp on his breast.

"I fear not. There is a weakness here," he said.

"And pain?" questioned Storms, eagerly.

"Yes, great pain, at times; but you must not say as much to Ruth: it would fret her."

A glitter, like that of disturbed water, flashed into the young man's eyes.

"Then, as to the fever," continued the sick man, "it comes, on and off, with a chill, now and then; not much to complain of, so I say nothing about it, because of the la.s.s."

"Oh, that is nothing, I dare say; but the people in the village hear that you are quite strong again."

Jessup smiled, a little sadly.

"So, being more than anxious, I dropped in to have a little chat with you. It's hard waiting so long, when a man is o'er fond of a la.s.s, as I am of your daughter. One never gets a look of her in the regular way."

"Ruth has been with me so much," said Jessup, with a feeble effort at apology. "It has been hard on her, poor child."

"Yes, but you are so much better now, and father is getting vexed. He thinks Sir Noel is putting off the new lease because nothing is settled about the marriage. Things are going crosswise with us, I can tell you. It will never do for us to put matters off in this way."

Jessup was greatly disturbed. He moved restlessly, clasping and unclasping his hand on the coverlet with nervous irritation. At last he spoke more resolutely than he had yet done.

"Storms, your father and I have been neighbors and friends ever since we were boys together, and we had set our minds on being closer still; but Ruth's heart goes against it, and I cannot force her."

Storms drew close to the bed and bent his frowning face over the sick man.

"I have been expecting this. Like father like child. But a man's pledged word isn't to be broken through with by a girl's whim; or, if so, I am not the one to put up with it."

"You were always a hard one," answered Jessup, and a little strength flamed up into his gray eyes. "From a child you were that, and I have, more than once, had misgivings; but I did not think you would be bent on marrying with a la.s.s against her will."

"Yes, I would, and like it all the better, when her will was broken."

Jessup shrunk down in his bed. There was something savage in that stern young face that terrified him. Storms saw the feeble movement, and went on:

"Never fear, man, I will find a way to bend her will, and make her love me afterward."

"I would rather have her placed by my side in the same coffin,"

answered the old man.

"You take back your word?" repeated Storms, savagely.

"Yes, I take back my word."

Storms turned on his heel, and without a syllable of farewell left the house. He paused a moment under the porch, and a glint of Ruth's garments caught his eye, as she was coming down the shaded wood-path, after parting with Mrs. Mason.

Ruth saw him coming, and stopped, looking around for some chance of escape, like a bird, threatened in its cage.

There was no way of escape, however. On one hand lay a deep ravine, with a brooklet at the bottom, and clothed with ferns up the sides; on the other, wild thickets, such as made that portion of a park called the wilderness picturesque.

"So, sweetheart, you were waiting for me. I thought it would come to that," said Storms.

Ruth moved on one side without answering. Storms could see that a shudder pa.s.sed through her as he came near, and the evil light that had almost died out of his eyes when they fell upon her came back with fresh venom.

"So you think to escape, ha! You shy on one side, as if a wild beast blocked the path. Be careful that you don't make one of me."

"Let me pa.s.s. I wish nothing but that," faltered the girl, moving as far from her tormentor as the path would permit.

"Not till we have come to an understanding. Look you, Ruth Jessup, if you think to pull me on and off like an old glove, I am not the man for your money."

"I--I have no such thought. I have no wish to see you at all."

"Indeed!" sneered the young man.

"After what has pa.s.sed it is better that we should be strangers!"

"Nay, sweetheart. I think it is better that we should be man and wife."

A disgustful shudder shook the girl where she stood.

Storms saw it, and a cold smile crept over his face.

"That is what I have been telling your father."

"My father! Surely, surely you have not been torturing him!"

"Torturing him! No. But we have come to an understanding at last."

Ruth grew pallid to the lips.

"An understanding! How?"

The terror that shook her voice was triumph to him. At least he had the power to torment her, and would use it to the utmost.

"You ask? I thought you might know what manner of man old Jessup is, without asking."

"I know that he is just but never cruel."

"Cruel! Oh, far from it. Go ask him, if you doubt."

"Let me pa.s.s, and I will," answered the girl, desperately. "At any rate, he would not sanction your rudeness in keeping me here."

"Rudeness! Of course you have never been here before. Oh, no! I haven't seen you, over and over again, watching the path. Only it wasn't rudeness when he came. There was no trembling then--nothing but blushes."

"Let me pa.s.s, I say," cried the girl, tortured into courage, "if you would not force me to tell the whole world what I know of you. Let me pa.s.s, and never dare to look upon me again."

Storms started, and a grayish pallor spread over his face. What did she know? What did she mean?