ignorantly do precisely what our unknown adversary wants you to do.'
Lucas turned to look at me, and I knew that if I had not been a woman he would have threatened me as he had Walter. I cared not at all for his opinion. Anxiously I watched Evelyn.
'I don't know what to do,' she whispered. 'I must be alone- let me think. Don't follow me, please.'
Slowly, her face averted, she passed along the ledge and began to descend.
Lucas started to follow.
'Your lordship!' Emerson's voice cracked like a whip.
'Don't interfere with me, Emerson,' Lucas said tightly. 'You are not my master.''
'Interfere?' Emerson's eyes widened in honest indignation. 'I never interfere. You are, of course, too much of a gentlemen to lay hands on the young lady again; I need not caution you as to that. I was merely about to remind you not to wander out of sight.'
'Very well,' Lucas said shortly.
Evelyn had reached the bottom of the path and was walking slowly across the sand, away from camp. The poor child looked infinitely weary and sad as she proceeded with dragging steps and bowed head. The setting sun struck off her golden head like a flame.
Lucas's pace was quicker; he soon caught her up and they walked on together. Naturally I could not hear what they said, but I felt sure he was pressing his suit. The weary shake of her head gave me some hope, but not enough.
I turned to Walter, who was sitting beside me. His eyes were fixed on the distant couple. He looked ten years older than his real age.
'They make a pretty pair,' said Emerson, who was outdoing himself in obnoxiousness that afternoon. 'My lord and my lady, it will be an excellent match.'
'Oh, do be still,' I snapped.
'Why, I thought ladies enjoyed matchmaking. You may be proud if you bring this off. He is rich, titled, handsome; she is poor. A brilliant match for a girl like that.'
My self-control, ordinarily excellent, suddenly snapped. I was utterly disgusted with the lot of them-with Evelyn and her morbid love of martyrdom, with Lucas and his arrogance, with Walter's hang-dog suffering acceptance- and most of all with Emerson. He thought he had won, and I feared he had; by handing Evelyn over to Lucas he kept his brother bound to his selfish wishes and now he was twisting the knife in the wound, convincing Walter that the girl was marrying Lucas out of the desire for wealth and worldly position. His smile maddened me; I could no longer hold my tongue.
'Bring it off!' I cried. 'I would rather see Evelyn in a- in a monastery than married to that wretch. She does not love him. She loves- someone else, and thinks she will save him by accepting Lucas. Perhaps she is right after all. The man she loves is a poor-spirited wretch, who will not even take the trouble to declare himself!'
Walter grasped my hands. His face was transfigured.
'You can't mean it,' he whispered. 'You can't mean that I – '
'Yes, you young fool.' I gave him a shove that sent him staggering. 'She loves you; why, I cannot imagine, but she does. Now go and stop her!'
Walter gave me a look that made me tremble. He bounded off down the ledge; and I turned to face his brother, throwing my shoulders back defiantly. I had done a foolhardy thing; I did not know what would come of it. But at that moment I was prepared to face a whole horde of Mummies, much less Emerson, to defend my act.
He was rocking back and forth in his chair, shaken by silent spasms of laughter.
'My dear Peabody,' he gasped. 'You amaze me. Can it be that you are a secret romantic after all?'
He was impossible. I turned my back on him and watched the tableau down below.
Walter ran like a deer; he soon reached the others, and the three stood talking. It was only too easy to follow the conversation; Walter's impassioned gestures, Evelyn's startled response, and Lucas's angry interruption.
'I am going down,' I said uneasily. 'I may have acted a trifle precipitately…'
'Intervention might be advisable,' Emerson agreed calmly. 'His noble lordship is not above striking a wounded man; and Walter is no match for him with only one arm. Damnation! I have waited too long!'
He had waited too long; and he had been correct in his assessment of Lucas's character. He struck; Walter went staggering back. Emerson was already halfway down the path, leaping along like a mountain goat. I followed; I dared not go quickly, for I could not remove my eyes from the little drama below.
Evelyn tried to intervene; Lucas shook her off. Walter had been shaken but not felled; he returned to the fray. Ducking his head under the other man's flailing blows, he returned them with interest; and I could scarcely repress a cheer when his clenched fist struck Lucas's outthrust jaw with a solid smack. Lucas fell just as Emerson came running up. He seized his brother's arm- unnecessarily, for Walter was not the man to take advantage of a fallen opponent. Running as fast as I could with the handicaps of full skirts and drifted sand, I came up to them as Lucas was rising to his feet.
He stood swaying unsteadily, his hand rubbing his chin. The fall had scarcely rumpled his elegant attire, but there was little of the English gentleman about him as he glared at Walter, his liquid black eyes hot with Latin rage.
'Two against one?' he inquired with a sneer. 'Very sporting, gentlemen!'
'You are a fine one to talk of sportsmanship,' I exclaimed. 'To strike an injured man-'
'He used terms I allow no man to use to me,' Lucas interrupted.
'I regret the terms,' Walter said in a low voice. 'But not the emotion that prompted them. Miss Amelia-Radcliffe – if you had heard the things he said of Evelyn-the implications he was vile enough to make- '
'They were true,' Evelyn said.
All eyes turned toward Evelyn.
White as the lace at her throat, straight as a young birch tree, she faced the staring eyes without flinching. She stepped back- not in retreat, but in a deliberate movement that separated her from support. She waved me back with an irresistible gesture of command as I started toward her, expostulations rising to my lips.
'No, Amelia,' she said, in me same quiet voice. 'I had, for a time, the cowardly hope of avoiding this. But in justice to Lucas- and to all of you- I cannot remain silent. In the heat of anger Lucas spoke the truth. Not only have I lost a woman's most priceless jewel, I gave it up to a profligate, a wastrel, and a ruffian. I acted of my own free will. I abandoned an old man who loved me, and was only saved from the ultimate sin of taking my own life by Amelia's charity. Now that you know the worst, you will no longer seek to detain me. And you will accept my thanks for saving me, in the nick of time, from the despicable act I was about to commit. I see now that I cannot injure Lucas by taking advantage of his noble offer of marriage. That would be a fine way to repay his kindness, would it not?'
'Evelyn, my dearest,' Lucas began.
She shook her head. It was a mild enough gesture, but even Lucas was convinced by the unalterable firmness of her expression. His outstretched hand fell to his side.
'I shall never marry. By devoting my life to good works and charitable undertakings I may one day partially redeem my ruined character.'
She had intended to say more; she was proceeding in fine dramatic style, poor young thing, carried away by the tragedy of it all, as the young are. But her emotions were too genuine, too painful; her voice broke in a sob. She continued to stand pilloried under the astonished gaze of- Walter. She had spoken as if to all of us; but it was Walter she had really addressed.
He looked like a man who has received a mortal wound and does not yet realize that he ought to fall down. Emerson's countenance was as blank as the rock cliff behind him. Only his eyes were alive. They moved from Evelyn's ashen face to the equally corpselike countenance of his brother; but that was the only
