“I will not!” cried Freckles. “How can you think it, Angel?”
“You won’t even look as if you remember?”
“I will not!” persisted Freckles. “I’ll be swearing to it if you want me to. If you wasn’t too tired to think this thing out straight, you’d be seeing that I couldn’t—that I just simply couldn’t! I’d rather give it all up now and go into eternity alone, without ever seeing a soul of me same blood, or me home, or hearing another man call me by the name I was born to, than to remember anything that would be hurting you, Angel. I should think you’d be understanding that it ain’t no ways possible for me to do it.”
The Angel’s tear-stained face flashed into dazzling beauty. A half-hysterical little laugh broke from her heart and bubbled over her lips.
“Oh, Freckles, forgive me!” she cried. “I’ve been through so much that I’m scarcely myself, or I wouldn’t be here bothering you when you should be sleeping. Of course you couldn’t! I knew it all the time! I was just scared! I was forgetting that you were you! You’re too good a knight to remember a thing like that. Of course you are! And when you don’t remember, why, then it’s the same as if it never happened. I was almost killed because I’d gone and spoiled everything, but now it will be all right. Now you can go on and do things like other men, and I can have some flowers, and letters, and my sweetheart coming, and when you are sure, why, then you can tell me things, can’t you? Oh, Freckles, I’m so glad! Oh, I’m so happy! It’s dear of you not to remember, Freckles; perfectly dear! It’s no wonder I love you so. The wonder would be if I did not. Oh, I should like to know how I’m ever going to make you understand how much I love you!”
Pillow and all, she caught him to her breast one long second; then she was gone.
Freckles lay dazed with astonishment. At last his amazed eyes searched the room for something approaching the human to which he could appeal, and falling on his mother’s portrait, he set it before him.
“For the love of life! Me little mother,” he panted, “did you hear that? Did you hear it! Tell me, am I living, or am I dead and all heaven come true this minute? Did you hear it?”
He shook the frame in his impatience at receiving no answer.
“You are only a pictured face,” he said at last, “and of course you can’t talk; but the soul of you must be somewhere, and surely in this hour you are close enough to be hearing. Tell me, did you hear that? I can’t ever be telling a living soul; but darling little mother, who gave your life for mine, I can always be talking of it to you! Every day we’ll talk it over and try to understand the miracle of it. Tell me, are all women like that? Were you like me Swamp Angel? If you were, then I’m understanding why me father followed across the ocean and went into the fire.”
XX
Wherein Freckles returns to the Limberlost, and Lord O’More sails for Ireland without him.
Freckles’ voice ceased, his eyes closed, and his head rolled back from exhaustion. Later in the day he insisted on seeing Lord and Lady O’More, but he fainted before the resemblance of another man to him, and gave all of his friends a terrible fright.
The next morning, the Man of Affairs, with a heart filled with misgivings, undertook the interview on which Freckles insisted. His fears were without cause. Freckles was the soul of honor and simplicity.
“Have they been telling you what’s come to me?” he asked without even waiting for a greeting.
“Yes,” said the Angel’s father.
“Do you think you have the very worst of it clear to your understanding?”
Under Freckles’ earnest eyes the Man of Affairs answered soberly: “I think I have, Mr. O’More.”
That was the first time Freckles heard his name from the lips of another. One second he lay overcome; the next, tears filled his eyes, and he reached out his hand. Then the Angel’s father understood, and he clasped that hand and held it in a strong, firm grasp.
“Terence, my boy,” he said, “let me do the talking. I came here with the understanding that you wanted to ask me for my only child. I should like, at the proper time, to regard her marriage, if she has found the man she desires to marry, not as losing all I have, but as gaining a man on whom I can depend to love as a son and to take charge of my affairs for her when I retire from business. Bend all of your energies toward rapid recovery, and from this hour understand that my daughter and my home are yours.”
“You’re not forgetting this?”
Freckles lifted his right arm.
“Terence, I’m sorrier than I have words to express about that,” said the Man of Affairs. “It’s a damnable pity! But if it’s for me to choose whether I give all I have left in this world to a man lacking a hand, or to one of these gambling, tippling, immoral spendthrifts of today, with both hands and feet off their souls, and a rotten spot in the core, I choose you; and it seems that my daughter does the same. Put what is left you of that right arm to the best uses you can in this world, and never again mention or feel that it is defective so long as you live. Good day, sir!”
“One minute more,” said Freckles. “Yesterday the Angel was telling me that there was money coming to me from two sources. She said that me grandmother had left me father all of her fortune and her house, because she knew that his father would be cutting him off,
