Norton, Andre - Novel 23 (25 page)

 
          
 
"Did Saranna tell you?" she demanded.

 
          
 
“Tell me what?" he asked.

 
          
 
Saranna had quickly slipped her hand from his
arm, wanted to warn Damaris, more than a little concerned that the child might
blurt out something of what had happened. Though his kindness to her in the
past few minutes had been very reassuring, and she knew he meant his promise of
trying to curb Rufus' cruelty, yet there was no reason to tell him anything
which might be repeated to Honora.

 
          
 
Damaris put her head a little to one side,
watching him mischievously.

 
          
 
"Perhaps," she appeared to weigh the
question carefully, "we had better not say—"

 
          
 
"Now you tease me, Miss Damaris, perhaps
to the point where I must discover your secret in order to satisfy my own
honor," he laughed. "Does that sound pompous enough?"

 
          
 
Damaris giggled. "You are trying to be
Mr. Swain, aren't you? He is a silly, I think."

 
          
 
"Lady, you wound me deeply!" Mr.
Fowke now struck such a pose that Damaris' giggles became laughter.

 
          
 
"I did hear him say that once, you
know," she nodded. "He likes her, quite a lot. You don't have to
worry though, he's not important."

 
          
 
"But you know something which may
be." Now he swooped upon her. Though his words were lightly spoken, there
was determination enough behind them. Damaris' face sobered. She stood tugging
at her apron. Suddenly blank of expression, as if her attention were turned
inward to study some problem.

 
          
 
"I know something," she agreed.
"But it's not my secret; it's Grandfather's. And I promised—"

 
          
 
"You keep promises, Damaris—" That
was not a question but a statement.

 
          
 
Her chin came up a little proudly. "I
always have."

 
          
 
"Sometimes, Damaris, things happen which
cannot be kept secret, no matter how many promises have been given. If that
time comes and you need help"—now his gaze swept from the child to Saranna
and back again, as if he included them both in what he would say— "let me
know. Will you promise that?"

 
          
 
Damaris did not answer at once. She peered
intently up into his face.

 
          
 
" 'A
good neighbor,'
" he added, " 'is a found treasure.'"

 
          
 
Damaris' face expressed a flash of surprise.
Apparently she was not the only one able to quote the wisdom of another people.
Then, quick as a stinging bee she retorted:

 
          
 
" 'It
is your
own lantern. Do not poke holes in the paper which covers it.' "

 
          
 
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
he asked.

 
          
 
She shrugged. "You must certainly know.
Saranna, we'd better get back." She was no longer a teasing, amused child.

 
          
 
It was as if Mr. Fowke's quotation had slammed
shut a door between them. Now she took Saranna's hand, plainly dismising Gerrad
Fowke with rude abruptness. But he only regarded her very thoughtfully and
stepped aside, nodding to Saranna's flurry of thanks before Damaris' impatient
and demanding jerks pulled her on.

 
          
 
"Why were you so rude?" Saranna
wanted to know when she judged they were far enough down the walk to be out of
hearing. "You owe Mr. Fowke an apology—"

 
          
 
"He had no right!" Damaris
interrupted fiercely. "He had no right to say that. He's no good friend
really, using Grandfather's words when he's going to marry her!
was—
I was going to ask him about the collection book—if he
knew she took it. But now I won't! She will tell him anything and he's going to
believe it. Grandfather was the only one who knew her, knew all her tricks.

 
          
 
"What were you doing with him
anyway?" she added a moment later. "What was he doing out in the
garden? She isn't here!"

 
          
 
The child was getting so wrought up Saranna
thought the best way to handle her was to explain.
When she
mentioned that Rufus had seen the pendant, then tried to take it from her, and
the coming of the white foxes, Damaris stopped on the path.

 
          
 
She did not look at Saranna, rather stared at
the ground as if searching for something which she must find there. So shut off
did she look in that moment that Saranna's voice trailed into silence, a
silence which seemed to grow like a shadowy cloud around
them.
Then Damaris spoke:

 
          
 
"I've got to believe now—believe that you
are a part of it. But I promised Grandfather—I've got to think a while,
Saranna, truly I have to."

 
          
 
It was as if she were begging some favor from
the older girl. But then she added in a tone which held a trace of her old
fierceness: "Where did you meet Mr. Fowke? Was he in the garden—hunting—?"

 
          
 
"Hunting what?" Saranna was
bewildered by these abrupt changes of manner. "You mean foxes?"

 
          
 
"No!
Of course
not!"
Damaris made a brushing gesture of one hand as if sweeping
aside such a suggestion as absurd.
"Looking for the
hidden part.
Maybe she put him up to that. She might think that because
he knew Grandfather, he knows a lot more about everything. But he doesn't! Not
ever!" She shook her head vehemently.

 
          
 
"He wasn't in the garden," Saranna
hastened to assure her, fearing a return of Damaris' agitation. "I ran
away from Rufus, down to the fence along the road. He was riding there and saw
me." Quickly she added how Gerrad Fowke had faced down Rufus and added
Rufus' accusation as a warning. Then she asked on her own account:

 
          
 
"Damaris, you have said this," she
raised her hand to the pendant, "was not a part of your grandfather's
collection. But can you prove that? It is plainly a piece of fine Eastern work
and might well be taken by others, just as Rufus believed, to be a gift from
you of something you had no right to give. If it is entered in the book and you
are right that Honora has that—then we must give it back at once."

 
          
 
"I told you, no!" denied the younger
girl. "That never belonged to Grandfather. It came from Kuei-Fu Yiieh. And
I'm not going to tell you what that means either. But you'd better take good
care of it—'cause that's why the foxes came, you know," she ended
composedly. "It will protect you if you let it. Come on—I'm not going to
talk about it any more. But you needn't thmk that I gave it to you. I wouldn't
have the power!" With that parting word she darted away from Saranna,
running lightly down the alley of the hedges so that Saranna had to gather up
her full skirts in order to hurry and keep her in sight.
Though
first she tucked the jade fox back into hiding.

 
          
 
She heard voices
raised
before she was quite through the door and there was no mistaking the
disputants. Honora, in traveling dress, only the veil of her bonnet tossed back
to reveal her angry face, had confronted the child who stood defiantly on the
lowest step of the stairway. Behind Honora was Mrs. Parton, her hands folded at
waist, over her apron, a very conscious air of virtue about her as she watched
with her usual impassive countenance the struggle of wills in progress.

 
          
 
"Give me those keys instantly!"
Honora advanced on Damaris. "I know that you have them hidden on you. Mrs.
Parton has already searched your room. That is another thing; you are not to
have those heathenish things about you constantly. They are a bad influence
upon you, which can no longer be allowed. You will move into the west chamber.
Rose has already transferred all you will need—"

 
          
 
"You can't!" Damaris' heightened
color, the feverish look about her eyes, were danger signs to Saranna. Honora
was provoking the child now into the kind of tantrum which would be to her own
advantage when she declared Damaris unmanageable.

 
          
 
Swiftly she crossed the hall to reach Damaris,
and so came into Honora's range of vision

 
          
 
"You—you hussy!"
The would-be mistress of Tiensin appeared to find in Saranna's sudden
appearance another reason for anger.
"Tripping out like
a light young madam to make eyes at the nearest man.
Yes, I have heard
it, how you used this child for bait to get to Gerrad!
Little
good that will do you.
It is plain that your country manners, or lack of
those, are not conducive to any good conduct on Damaris' part. You will keep
away from her, do you understand, until we have you safely married and out of
here. I marvel that Rufus still wants a light miss such as you—"

 
          
 
Honora had worked herself up to such a rage
that she, not Damaris, might well be the one thought to be of unstable mind.
Saranna, unaccustomed to such an assault, was at first so unbelieving that she
had no word of defense. But as Honora paused, perhaps to gather breath for a
second berating, Saranna found her voice:

 
          
 
"I have not the least idea," she
tried to make her tone even and cool, in contrast to the other's outburst,
"of what you
are
talking about. Neither do I
intend to marry anyone, least of all Rufus Parton!"

 
          
 
"You'll do as you're bid!" Honora
flashed back. "I stand in place of my father as your guardian. If I want
to set you outside these walls, leave you as a beggar—I can.
Do
you understand that, Miss?
I can! And I will deal with you as I see fit.
You are a common thief—oh," she laughed with rage, "I have my
informants. You are wearing right now jewelry which is a part of the Whaley
inheritance. If this silly child gave it to you, such a gift would never stand
in the law. I can say, and will be believed, that you influenced her —not only
to give you gifts, but to be defiant to her natural guardians—that you are an
unwholesome influence upon her in every way. Then I shall have you out of this
house!"

           
 
Now she swung back to Damaris.
"As for you.
Miss— Parton—take those keys. She has them
under her apron I am sure."

 
          
 
As the housekeeper advanced, Damaris whirled
and darted up the stairs. She paused for an instant just before she ran into
the shadowy upper hall.

 
          
 
"You'll never, never find it!" she
screamed down. "You'd better not even try."

 
          
 
"Parton, she has clearly lost whatever
wits she ever had," said Honora. "Lock her in her room. I shall send
for the help we need to deal with her. As for you," she rounded on
Saranna. "You I shall also deal with—"

 
          
 
John came into the
hall,
in his hand was a hoop ring on which there were several keys. Honora snatched
the hoop from his hand, went to fit them one after another into the lock of the
parlor. But Damaris was now Saranna's first concern, and she hurriedly climbed
the stairs after the housekeeper who had gone to obey Honora's orders.

 
          
 
Perhaps Honora had anticipated flight on the
part of her stepdaughter. For Damaris had halted before the door of her own
room, and was tugging frantically at the knob.