She looked at him timidly:

"You won't forget that he is your father, and loves you better than his own life?"

"I'll not forget."

She started with sudden alarm and whispered:

"You haven't got the pistol that you brought home to-day from the campaign, have you?"

"Surely, dear----"

"Give it to me!" she demanded.

"No."

"Why?" she asked pleadingly.

"I've too much self-respect."

She looked into his clear eyes:

"Forgive me, dear, but I was so frightened just now. You were so violent. I never saw you like that before. I was afraid something might happen in a moment of blind pa.s.sion, and I could never lift my head again----"

"I'll not forget," he broke in, "if my father does. Run now, dear, I'll join you in a few minutes."

A pressure of the hand, a look of love, and she was gone. The boy closed the door, quickly turned and faced his father.

CHAPTER XXV

FATHER AND SON

Norton had ignored the scene between Helen and Tom and his stunned mind was making a desperate fight to prepare for the struggle that was inevitable.

The thing that gave him fresh courage was the promise the girl had repeated that she would go. Somehow he had grown to trust her implicitly. He hadn't time as yet to realize the pity and pathos of such a trust in such an hour.

He simply believed that she would keep her word. He had to win his fight now with the boy without the surrender of his secret. Could he do it? It was doubtful, but he was going to try. His back was to the wall.

Tom took another step into the room and the father turned, drew his tall figure erect in an instinctive movement of sorrowful dignity and reserve and walked to the table.

All traces of anger had pa.s.sed from the boy's handsome young face and a look of regret had taken its place. He began speaking very quietly and reverently:

"Now, Dad, we must face this thing. It's a tragedy for you perhaps----"

The father interrupted:

"How big a tragedy, my son, I hope that you may never know----"

"Anyhow," Tom went on frankly, "I am ashamed of the way I acted. But you're a manly man and you can understand."

"Yes."

"I know that all you've done is because you love me----"

"How deeply, you can never know."

"I'm sorry if I forgot for a moment the respect I owe you, the reverence and love I hold for you--I've always been proud of you, Dad--of your stainless name, of the birthright you have given me--you know this----"

"Yet it's good to hear you say it!"

"And now that I've said this, you'd as well know first as last that any argument about Helen is idle between us. I'm not going to give up the woman I love!"

"Ah, my boy----"

Tom lifted his hand emphatically:

"It's no use! You needn't tell me that her blood is tainted--I don't believe it!"

The father came closer:

"You _do_ believe it! In the first mad riot of pa.s.sion you're only trying to fool yourself."

"It's unthinkable, I tell you! and I've made my decision"--he paused a moment and then demanded: "How do you know her blood is tainted?"

The father answered firmly:

"I have the word both of her mother and father."

"Well, I won't take their word. Some natures are their own defense. On them no stain can rest, and I stake my life on Helen's!"

"My boy----"

"Oh, I know what you're going to say--as a theory it's quite correct. But it's one thing to accept a theory, another to meet the thing in your own heart before G.o.d alone with your life in your hands."

"What do you mean by that?" the father asked savagely.

"That for the past hour I've been doing some thinking on my own account."

"That's just what you haven't been doing. You haven't thought at all. If you had, you'd know that you can't marry this girl. Come, come, my boy, remember that you have reason and because you have this power that's bigger than all pa.s.sion, all desire, all impulse, you're a man, not a brute----"

"All right," the boy broke in excitedly, "submit it to reason! I'll stand the test--it's more than you can do. I love this girl--she's my mate. She loves me and I am hers. Haven't I taken my stand squarely on Nature and her highest law?"

"No!"

"What's higher? Social fictions--prejudices?"