Читать книгу Duskin (Musaicum Romance Classics) - Grace Livingston Hill - Страница 4

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Somehow all the things got done, and Carol found herself seated in the sleeper car with a whole three minutes to spare before the train left.

She was breathless and throbbing with excitement. She felt as if she had been running a race with time and was wound up so tight that it hurt her heart to stop.

Her mother and her fourteen-year-old sister had come down to see her off, and they lingered, wistful and apprehensive, loath to have her go. There had been so little time to explain to them, and they were still indignant over the idea of her giving up her beautiful vacation for this wild business trip into an unknown West filled with no telling what awful possibilities.

“Is he paying you extra for this?” asked Betty sternly, fixing her sister with a pair of very young, very modern blue eyes. “Because if he isn’t I shouldn’t go a step, even now!”

“Betty, you don’t understand,” said Carol. “It wasn’t a time for talking about pay. I tell you Mr. Fawcett was hurt. He was very ill! The doctor felt it might be quite serious. He will pay me of course.”

“Well, I should sue him if he didn’t,” asserted Betty indignantly. “Your lovely vacation!”

“Oh, I may get a vacation later,” said Carol carelessly. Although the thought of her postponed vacation still hurt terribly.

“Yes, a vacation after everybody has left and you’re the only pebble on the beach, the last rose of summer! I declare I think it’s the limit!”

“Don’t make it any harder than it is, Betty dear!” pleaded Carol. “Come, perk up. I may be home before long.”

“Yes, Betty, don’t waste time blaming Carol,” said the mother. “We must go in a minute, and there are so many things I wanted to say. You will be careful, won’t you? Going off into the wilds ”

“Oh, Mother! It can’t be very wild where they are putting up an eleven-story building!”

“Well, I suppose that is so,” said the troubled mother. “But you a young woman alone! And you’re so good looking, Carol. Going among a lot of strange men!”

“They won’t be any different from the men in our office, Mother. They’re just men, you know. And I’ll wear a veil if you like, or dye my cheeks with iodine, if you say so!” Carol tried to summon a mischievous grin, in spite of the sudden misgivings that had come to her as she entered the sleeper and realized that she was really going.

“Now, Carol, do be serious!” pleaded her mother. “This is a dreadful world ”

“Oh, no, Mother! It’s a pretty good world! Wait till I get back and tell you all the wonders of the wild and woolly West beginning with Chicago. Just think of it! I have to meet the Chicago representative and talk turkey to him! I telegraphed him in Mr. Fawcett’s name, ‘Accident prevents my coming. Meet my representative, C. W. Berkley, tomorrow on train No. 10 and give her all details of situation.’ Why, Mother, I expect to be carried around on a throne!”

“Mercy!” said her mother apprehensively. “To think you’re grown up and have to do things like that! I don’t know what your father would have said to me if he had known I would let you go off alone like this. You’ve always been sheltered.”

“Exactly, little mother!” said Carol with a firm set of her lips. “I have! But the time has come when I’ve got to take care of myself for a while. It does come, you know, no matter how long you try to hold it off. I’m not a baby, and you know you really don’t believe that I can’t take care of myself after all these years you’ve spent on bringing me up. Isn’t it almost time I had a chance to try myself out? Come now, wipe away those tears, little mother, and forget it. I’m going to have the time of my life out there! It’s going to be different from anything I ever did, and I’m going to make a story out of it to write to you. There may not be any sand, but I’ll warrant there’s a decent hotel, and very likely I’ll meet up with plenty of rocks of one sort or another before I get done. It’s really going to be fabulous when I get going, so don’t have any more worries about it.”

She forced a smile and her mother brushed an anxious tear furtively from her cheek and tried to summon a gleam of a smile to answer her with. But the young sister continued to look displeased.

“I don’t see how you thought it was right to disappoint Jean and Edith,” she put in. “Did you tell them? Weren’t they terribly upset about it?”

“I just had time to call up Jean and tell her in one sentence before I left the office. Yes, Jean was rather put out. I’m afraid I didn’t make her see how necessary it was that I should go. I wish you’d call her up, Betts, when you get home, and try to make her understand. Perhaps you’ll call Edith, too. I hated to go with only a word to them, but I didn’t have another second to spare.”

“Of course we will,” said her mother lovingly. “Oh, Carol, I put your Bible in your bag. You’ll promise to read a few verses every day, won’t you, dear?” The mother’s pleading eyes were full of tears. Of course Carol promised, though somewhat impatiently.

“All aboard,” shouted the brakeman, and Mrs. Berkley caught her daughter in one last quick embrace and then they were gone.

The train moved out from the station and Carol realized that she was actually on her way.

For a moment she had an impulse to jump up and run out to the platform and try to get off. How could she go off like this into unknown responsibilities and leave behind all the pleasant vacation that had been planned so long?

Then, as the train moved more swiftly, she realized how childish she was, after all her brave words to her mother. She deliberately forced herself to go over everything to make sure she had not left anything undone. It was as if she must keep on with the breathless race she had been running for the last three hours or she would lose herself entirely.

The parting with her family was naturally still uppermost in her mind. How disappointed they had been for her in the loss of her long-expected vacation. It was almost as if they had lost something themselves. But how foolish her mother had been about her going off alone! And then insisting on that silly promise to read her Bible every day! She would have to keep it of course, because she had been brought up with a conscience, but how annoying it was going to be always having to remember that! She would not have time to read the Bible! Why was mother like that?

Suddenly she realized that she was weak with hunger, and putting aside her annoyance, she made her way to the dining car.

Most of the tables in the diner were already filled, but Carol found a vacancy at the far end of the car beside a lady with two small children.

Dining cars were not a common experience to Carol Berkley, and she scanned the menu interestedly, trying to appear quite used to traveling. After she had given her order, she sat watching the children. She tried to adjust herself to her new surroundings and to enjoy the experience while it was hers, but in spite of herself she felt disinterested, disappointed, almost ready to cry at the thought of what she was missing. In a little while now Edith and Jean would be taking the train together, laughing and talking, perhaps being cross meeting together at her absence. To think what she was missing!

She went over item after item of office matters that she had attended to before she left, telephone calls that Mr. Fawcett had intended to make before he left for the West, telegrams he wanted sent, notes for enlightenment of whoever should take her place while she was gone, addresses that would be needed, a line or two about the policy that was being pursued in certain operations the firm was at work upon, things that no one but herself and her employer were familiar with. Yes, she had attended to them all and had given the papers into the hands of the next in authority to Mr. Fawcett. The letters she had finished and had mailed with her own hand as she took the elevator to leave. She need have no anxiety about responsibilities at home.

She sighed a quick little quivering breath of disappointment as she remembered the pretty things she had prepared through the whole winter, which had been meant to shine at the seashore, and which were being carried into exile with herself and would, most of them, very likely not see the light of day or evening either until she reached home and hung them carefully in her closet for another winter. It would have been a great deal better if she could only have had time to repack and take some of her sensible old business clothes along. They would have been what she really needed. But it couldn’t be helped when she had to go in such a hurry. Probably she might have had the tickets exchanged for a later train if she had only thought of it, for of course there was no particular point in her being in Chicago on time for that meeting.

She turned her attention to the landscape which was just deepening into twilight. A long crimson splash of glory against the horizon reached up through ripples of gold where the clear, delicate green-and-blue of the sky glimpsed between. It was a breathtaking sight to watch as the colors flamed and pulsated into one another, flecked from gold to orchid and darkened into deep purple like velvet with golden tears. She was almost sorry when her order came and she had to give her attention to eating. The next moment they swept into a village with streetlights flaring garishly along the way and blotting out the wonders of the sunset.

Reluctantly she left the cheerful neighborliness of the diner and made her way back to her place in the sleeper. It seemed lonely back in the green-shrouded compartment where the porter had placed her when she entered the train.

Yet she realized that she must not think of that for there was still her campaign at the Chicago station to plan. She must have some words ready for the Chicago manager, must drill her mind on certain points that needed to be brought out and certain others that were better not mentioned. There would be time enough later to plan for meeting the Duskin person. She felt that he was going to be rather an easy proposition. She remembered that she had always been able to use a keen sarcasm on occasion, and armed with this and with the letter that had been dictated by her employer in phrases dipped in vitriol, she felt that she would have little trouble in putting him in his place.

This Chicago man, however, was quite another proposition. She knew him to be a nephew of Mr. Fawcett, a man of wealth and culture, young and therefore domineering, feeling privileged to dictate even to his uncle on occasion. It was going to be quite a trying interview. She realized that she must act the part of one much older and wiser than she knew herself to be if she would carry out Mr. Fawcett’s wishes and accomplish her mission, which was to pave the way for a further loan from several wealthy stockholders who lived in Chicago. It was going to be like stepping out upon thin ice, and she realized she must go steel shod yet glide with gossamer tread. If she pulled it off it was going to be the greatest thing she had ever done, just from the standpoint of her own soul, if nothing else. As she reflected upon the matter, she was filled with grave misgivings, and more and more she shrank from the ordeal before her.

She slid over by the window, putting her elbow on the sill and resting her head wearily on her hand, her eyes staring out into the hurrying darkness that was stabbed with occasional lights.

By and by a thread of a moon appeared over the dark rim of a mountain and glimmered down upon her with a startling appearance of personality, as if it were wondering what she was doing out here, hurrying West. With a tug of her heartstrings she thought of that same moon shining on far stretches of ocean, silvering great rocks and wide white sand. Ever since she had planned to go on that vacation she had thought of the moon as going, too. And now here was the moon, looking down upon her! It gave her a less lonely feeling, as if the moon were taking a kindly interest no matter where she was. Going with her to cheer her even if she couldn’t go to the seashore.

But she must get down to work and think out a plan for her interview with that young Fawcett. The better she knew her part the sooner she could conclude it and hurry on to the other part of her journey.

So she got out pencil and notebook and began to jot down several points that Mr. Fawcett had emphasized in those few minutes of discussion the doctor had allowed them.

She had worked away for fifteen minutes on this and had resorted once more to staring out into the darkness, when suddenly she heard a voice just behind her ear which startled her with an unpleasant memory.

“Well, I guess this is our stall, isn’t it? Number ten, that’s what the ticket says,” the voice shouted above the monotonous babble of the train.

Two figures suddenly towered over her; one reached across her and thumped a big suitcase and a bag heavily under the seat beside her shiny hatbox and Mr. Fawcett’s briefcase. Then they sat down together on the seat opposite and eyed her with open satisfaction.

It was inevitable that she should look up and face them for an instant as she moved to make room for their feet. When she saw them at close range her soul was filled with dismay. They were the two men who had sat in the outer office early in the afternoon and carried on that terrible conversation, her notes of which were at that instant reposing in the briefcase.

The tall one was chewing a toothpick and studying her face with cunning interest. The stout one was sitting opposite her, his fingers caressing fondly a couple of fat black cigars in his vest pocket. He seemed to be about to speak to her familiarly.

She shrank away from his stout knees in their checked trousers as if he had been a leopard, and quickly turned her gaze out of the window once more. Her heart was beating wildly, and dismay had seized her. Could it be possible that these two men had to share that compartment with her all the way to Chicago? Would she have to stand that? She hated, actually loathed, these two men, with their iniquitous hearts and their dirty tongues and their intimate glances. She had enough evidence in that briefcase to put them both in jail. Could it be possible that they had recognized her as from the office, or were their glances merely curious and impudent?

Her mother’s words at parting came suddenly to mind.

“You are so good looking, Carol going among a lot of strange men!” She almost shuddered visibly. Why were mothers always so far-seeing? Why did everything they prophesied always come true somehow? And these were men whom she had good cause to fear!

Well, she had boasted that she was able to take care of herself. She had said the time had come for her to be on her own, and she must prove the truth of her words. She must handle this situation discreetly. She must keep herself from looking shaken. She must not let her lips tremble as she felt they were doing this minute.

She pressed her fingers hard against them and stared up at the moon. She could feel the steady stares of the two men, and it seemed as if she were a little, helpless bird with a cat below her bough trying to charm her into falling into its claws! Each instant her situation seemed more impossible, and the state of her weary nerves did not serve to help her think what to do.

When she tried to imagine rising and taking a steady course down the aisle and out the end of the car that led toward the day coaches there seemed to be no strength in her muscles. Then there was her baggage. She could not leave that behind, and how could she ever get it from behind the big suitcase and bag? Her feet seemed like water. Her hands were cold and trembling. It was ridiculous, she told herself; she was tired and overwrought. But the next instant she shivered at the very rustle of her soft silk traveling dress.

And so she sat motionless, her slender figure shrinking into its corner, and her face turned out of the window, looking up at the kindly moon. If only the moon were a person to whom she could call for help!

She began to see with sudden vision how much more there was to fear than just two unpleasant strangers thrust in her car for the night. How much, for instance, did they know about her and her errand? Could they possibly have recognized her? And just what relation did they bear anyway to the whole situation?

A moment more and she remembered that elevator and the two backs, a tall one and a short one, that she had seen at the far end of the big office room. Could it be possible they had hung around hoping to see Mr. Fawcett or someone who could represent him? Could it be possible they had overheard anything as she telephoned?

Wait! Had they perhaps been in that little back hallway behind her inner office when she had called Western Union and sent that telegram to young Fawcett in Chicago, not only giving him the number of the train she was to take but the number of her car and section!

Certain words and phrases which she had taken down as the two men talked in the outer office suddenly flashed across her memory, filling her anew with terror.

The far door of the car opened and slammed shut again, and Carol lifted her eyes eagerly. It was the Pullman conductor, going swiftly, efficiently, from section to section, collecting the tickets and putting them in a long, fat envelope he carried.

Instantly she was on her feet. She stepped over the lank, crossed feet of the tall man who sat on the end of the seat and flew down the aisle.

If her mother could have seen the glow in her frightened face and the sweetness of her troubled eyes as she stopped by that gruff conductor and addressed him bravely, she would have said again, “Carol, you are so beautiful too beautiful to go among a lot of strange men!”

“Wouldn’t it be possible for me to have a whole section?” she asked earnestly, a wistfulness in her eyes that was not easy to resist. She was utterly unaware how charming she was, and how sweet her frightened voice became as she made her plea.

But the conductor did not look up.

“Every section taken, lady. Not even an upper berth.”

Carol’s heart began to fail her. She dared not turn back to see if the two men were watching her; but she was sure they were the kind who would.

“Oh,” she said weakly, her hand slipping up to her throat as if something fluttered there, “isn’t there couldn’t I perhaps change with someone and go where there is a woman? I would be willing to take an upper berth.”

The conductor whirled upon her and took her measure with his eye. Perhaps he had a daughter of his own. He gave a keen glance down the aisle at the tall man and the fat man leering after her and looked at the girl again.

“Nothing left but the drawing room, lady,” he said gruffly, doubtfully.

“Oh, can I have the drawing room?” she exclaimed eagerly.

“Costs a lot more,” said the conductor, regretfully giving her his respectful attention.

“Oh, that will be all right!” said Carol with a great sigh of relief. “How much is it? Can I go there now?”

With utter relief she paid the extra amount and went in search of the porter to get her bag and briefcase, a new anxiety attacking her now. Perhaps those men were waiting to get hold of Mr. Fawcett’s briefcase! Perhaps they had been watching her when she put those letters and papers from the safe into it before she left. She eyed them from the shelter of the drawing room doorway until the porter had reclaimed her baggage and started back to her. But she kept out of sight as she saw the two men turn their heads curiously and gaze after him. At least they should not have again the satisfaction of looking at her. She felt as if somehow their glances had been defiling, and she would like to wash them from her face.

The porter and conductor gone at last, she turned with thanksgiving in her heart and saw that her berth was already made up! How good that was. Now she might lock herself into this little retreat and lie down at last to rest after the terrible strain of the day! She slipped the bolt with satisfaction. How wonderful it was that she had secured this spot all to herself, away from those terrible men!

She crept into her berth at last and snapped out the light. As she pulled up the window shade she caught a full, bright glimpse of the moon looking down at her from a clear sky above open fields that were powdered with soft silver mists. It was not a thread of a moon now; it seemed to have gone higher and grown wider. Its light had a clear twinkle in it, almost like a star, that same friendly look, as if it were smiling at her.

She dropped off to sleep almost instantly when her head touched the pillow. Sheer weariness overpowered her. But sometime in the night she awoke suddenly and stared around her in the darkness. She felt terribly alone. There were strange grinding noises underneath and around her, above the rumble of the train. The moon was gone away somewhere and darkness reigned outside in the hurrying blackness. Only a few far stars pricked the velvet of the night. She seemed to be plunged back into an abyss of fear. The vision of the two men haunted the little space beside her bed and filled her with horror. She dared not open her eyes again to dispel it, and when she dropped once more into a troubled sleep, she dreamed that her two seatmates were standing over her and laughing in her face; and one, the tall, lanky one with the toothpick and the bulging eyes, stooped over her and took her by the throat. She could feel his bony fingers clutching her, and she found no voice to cry out.

Struggling, she came awake at last to find a pale dawn creeping in at the window and a new country whirling by. She lay and watched the day come up and wondered what it held for her of added fear and perplexity.