The Eagle's Shadow by James Branch Cabell (rm book recommendations TXT) 📗

elucidate the meaning of this da--this idiotic
foolishness?"

"Why, this," she explained, easily, and exhibited a folded paper. "I
found it in the grate last night."

He inspected it with large eyes. "That's absurd," he said, at length.
"You know perfectly well this will isn't worth the paper it's written
on."

"My dear sir," she informed him, coldly, "you are vastly mistaken. You
see, I've burned the other one." She pushed by him. "Mr. Kennaston,
are you ready for our walk? We'll finish the paper some other time.
Wasn't it the strangest thing in the world--?" Her dear, deep, mellow
voice died away as she and Kennaston disappeared in the gardens.

Billy gasped.

But meanwhile, Colonel Hugonin had given the members of his daughter's
house-party some inkling as to the present posture of affairs. They
were gazing at Billy Woods rather curiously. He stood in the vestibule
of Selwoode, staring after Margaret Hugonin; but they stared at him,
and over his curly head, sculptured above the door-way, they saw the
Eagle--the symbol of the crude, incalculable power of wealth.

Mr. Woods stood in the vestibule of his own house.



XVII

"By gad!" said Colonel Hugonin, very grimly, "anybody would think
you'd just lost a fortune instead of inheriting one! Wish you joy of
it, Billy. I ain't saying, you know, we shan't miss it, my daughter
and I--no, begad, for it's a nice pot of money, and we'll miss it
damnably. But since somebody had to have it, I'd much rather it was
you, my boy, than a set of infernal, hypocritical, philanthropic
sharks, and I'm damn' glad Frederick has done the square thing by
you--yes, begad!"

The old gentleman was standing beside Mr. Woods in the vestibule of
Selwoode, some distance from the other members of the house-party,
and was speaking in confidence. He was sincere; I don't say that
the thought of facing the world at sixty-five with practically
no resources save his half-pay--I think I have told you that the
Colonel's diversions had drunk up his wife's fortune and his own like
a glass of water--I don't say that this thought moved him to hilarity.
Over it, indeed, he pulled a frankly grave face.

But he cared a deal for Billy; and even now there was balm--soothing,
priceless balm--to be had of the reflection that this change in
his prospects affected materially the prospects of those cultured,
broad-minded, philanthropic persons who had aforetime set his daughter
to requiring of him a perusal of Herbert Spencer.

Billy was pretty well aware how monetary matters stood with the old
wastrel; and the sincerity of the man affected him far more than the
most disinterested sentiments would have done. Mr. Woods accordingly
shook hands, with entirely unnecessary violence.

"You're a trump, that's what you are!" he declared; "oh, yes, you are,
Colonel! You're an incorrigible, incurable old ace of trumps--the
very best there is in the pack--and it's entirely useless for you to
attempt to conceal it."

"Gad----!" said the Colonel.

"And don't you worry about that will," Mr. Woods advised. "I--I can't
explain things just now, but it's all right. You just wait--just wait
till I've seen Peggy," Billy urged, in desperation, "and I'll explain
everything."

"By gad----!" said the Colonel. But Mr. Woods was half-way out of the
vestibule.

Mr. Woods was in an unenviable state of perturbation.

He could not quite believe that Peggy had destroyed the will; the
thing out-Heroded Herod, out-Margareted Margaret. But if she had,
it struck him as a high-handed proceeding, entailing certain
vague penalties made and provided by the law to cover just such
cases--penalties of whose nature he was entirely ignorant and didn't
care to think. Heavens! for all he knew, that angel might have let
herself in for a jail sentence.

Billy pictured that queen among women! that paragon! with her glorious
hair cropped and her pink-tipped little hands set to beating hemp--he
had a shadowy notion that the lives of all female convicts were
devoted to this pursuit--and groaned in horror.

"In the name of Heaven!" Mr. Woods demanded of his soul, "what
possible reason could she have had for this new insanity? And in the
name of Heaven, why couldn't she have put off her t�te-�-t�te with
Kennaston long enough to explain? And in the name of Heaven, what does
she see to admire in that putty-faced, grimacing ass, any way! And in
the name of Heaven, what am I to say to this poor, old man here? I
can't explain that his daughter isn't in any danger of being poor, but
merely of being locked up in jail! And in the name of Heaven, how
long does that outrageous angel expect me to remain in this state of
suspense!"

Billy groaned again and paced the vestibule. Then he retraced his
steps, shook hands with Colonel Hugonin once more, and, Kennaston or
no Kennaston, set out to find her.



XVIII

But when he came out upon the terrace, Sarah Ellen Haggage stopped
him--stopped him with a queer blending of diffidence and resolve in
her manner.

The others, by this, had disappeared in various directions, puzzled
and exceedingly uncertain what to do. Indeed, to congratulate Billy
in the Colonel's presence would have been tactless; and, on the other
hand, to condole with the Colonel without seeming to affront the
wealthy Mr. Woods was almost impossible. So they temporised and
fled--all save Mrs. Haggage.

She, alone, remained to view Mr. Woods with newly opened eyes; for
as he paused impatiently--the sculptured Eagle above his head--she
perceived that he was a remarkably handsome and intelligent young man.
Her motherly heart opened toward this lonely, wealthy orphan.

"My dear Billy," she cooed, with asthmatic gentleness, "as an old,
old friend of your mother's, aren't you going to let me tell you how
rejoiced Ad�le and I are over your good fortune? It isn't polite, you
naughty boy, for you to run away from your friends as soon as they've
heard this wonderful news. Ah, such news it was--such a manifest
intervention of Providence! My heart has been fluttering, fluttering
like a little bird, Billy, ever since I heard it."

In testimony to this fact, Mrs. Haggage clasped a stodgy hand to an
exceedingly capacious bosom, and exhibited the whites of her eyes
freely. Her smile, however, remained unchanged and ample.

"Er--ah--oh, yes! Very kind of you, I'm sure!" said Mr. Woods.

"I never in my life saw Ad�le so deeply affected by anything," Mrs.
Haggage continued, with a certain large archness. "The sweet child
was always so fond of you, you know, Billy. Ah, I remember distinctly
hearing her speak of you many and many a time when you were in that
dear, delightful, wicked Paris, and wonder when you would come back
to your friends--not very grand and influential friends, Billy, but
sincere, I trust, for all that."

Mr. Woods said he had no doubt of it.

"So many people," she informed him, confidentially, "will pursue you
with adulation now that you are wealthy. Oh, yes, you will find that
wealth makes a great difference, Billy. But not with Ad�le and
me--no, dear boy, despise us if you will, but my child and I are not
mercenary. Money makes no difference with us; we shall be the same to
you that we always were--sincerely interested in your true welfare,
overjoyed at your present good fortune, prayerful as to your brilliant
future, and delighted to have you drop in any evening to dinner. We do
not consider money the chief blessing of life; no, don't tell me that
most people are different, Billy, for I know it very well, and many is
the tear that thought has cost me. We live in a very mercenary world,
my dear boy; but our thoughts, at least, are set on higher things,
and I trust we can afford to despise the merely temporal blessings of
life, and I entreat you to remember that our humble dwelling is always
open to the son of my old, old friend, and that there is always a jug
of good whiskey in the cupboard."

Thus in the shadow of the Eagle babbled the woman whom--for all her
absurdities--Margaret had loved as a mother.

Billy thanked her with an angry heart.

"And this"--I give you the gist of his meditations--"this is Peggy's
dearest friend! Oh, Philanthropy, are thy protestations, then, all
void and empty, and are thy noblest sentiments--every one of 'em--so
full of sound and rhetoric, so specious, so delectable--are these,
then, but dicers' oaths!"

Aloud, "I'm rather surprised, you know," he said, slowly, "that you
take it just this way, Mrs. Haggage. I should have thought you'd have
been sorry on--on Miss Hugonin's account. It's awfully jolly of you,
of course--oh, awfully jolly, and I appreciate it at its true worth, I
assure you. But it's a bit awkward, isn't it, that the poor girl will
be practically penniless? I really don't know whom she'll turn to
now."

Then Billy, the diplomatist, received a surprise.

"She'll come with me, of course," said Mrs. Haggage.

Mr. Woods made an--unfortunately--inaudible observation.

"I beg your pardon?" she queried. Then, obtaining no response, she
continued, with perfect simplicity: "Margaret's quite like a daughter
to me, you know. Of course, she and the Colonel will come with us--at
least, until affairs are a bit more settled. Even afterward--well, we
have a large house, Billy, and I don't see that they'd be any better
off anywhere else."

Billy's emotions were complex.

"You big-hearted old parasite," his own heart was singing. "If you
could only keep that ring of truth that's in your voice for your
platform utterances--why, in less than no time you could afford to
feed your Afro-Americans on nightingales' tongues and clothe every
working-girl in the land in cloth of gold! You've been pilfering from
Peggy for years--pilfering right and left with both hands! But you've
loved her all the time, God bless you; and now the moment she's in
trouble you're ready to take both her and the Colonel--whom, by the
way, you must very cordially detest--and share your pitiful, pilfered
little crusts with 'em and--having two more mouths to feed--probably
pilfer a little more outrageously in the future! You're a
sanctimonious old hypocrite, you are, and a pious fraud, and a
delusion, and a snare, and you and Ad�le have nefarious designs on me
at this very moment, but I think I'd like to kiss you!"

Indeed, I believe Mr. Woods came very near doing so. She loved Peggy,
you see; and he loved every one who loved her.

But he compromised by shaking hands energetically, for a matter of
five minutes, and entreating to be allowed to subscribe to some of her
deserving charitable enterprises--any one she might mention--and so
left the old lady a little bewildered, but very much pleased.

She decided that for the future Ad�le must not see so much of Mr.
Van Orden. She began to fear that gentleman's views of life were not
sufficiently serious.



XIX

Billy went into the gardens in pursuit of Margaret. He was almost
happy now and felt vaguely ashamed of himself. Then he came upon
Kathleen Saumarez, who, indeed, was waiting for him there; and his
heart went down into his boots.

He realised on a sudden that he was one of the richest men in America.
It was a staggering thought. Also, Mr. Woods's views, at this moment,
as to the advantages of wealth, might have been interesting.

Kathleen stood silent for an instant, eyes downcast, face flushed. She
was trembling.

Then, "Billy," she asked, almost inaudibly, "do--do you still
want--your answer?"

The birds sang about them. Spring triumphed in the gardens. She looked
very womanly and very pretty.

To all appearances, it might easily have been a lover and his lass met
in the springtide, shamefaced after last night's kissing. But Billy,
somehow, lacked much of the elation and the perfect content and the
disposition to burst into melody that is currently supposed to seize
upon rustic swains at such moments. He merely wanted to know if at
any time in the remote future his heart would be likely to resume the
discharge of its proper functions. It was standing still now.

However, "Can you ask--dear?" His words, at least, lied gallantly.

The poor woman looked up into Billy's face. After years of battling
with the world, here for the asking was peace and luxury and wealth
incalculable, and--as Kathleen thought--a love that had endured since
they were boy and girl together. Yet she shrunk from him a little and
clinched her hands before she spoke.

"Yes," Kathleen faltered, and afterward she shuddered.

And here, if for the moment I may prefigure the Eagle as a sentient
being, I can imagine his chuckle.

"Please God," thought poor Billy, "I will make her happy. Yes, please
God, I can at least do that, since she cares for me."

Then he kissed her.

"My dear," said he, aloud, "I'll try to make you happy. And--and you
don't mind, do you, if I leave you now?" queried this ardent lover.
"You see, it's absolutely necessary I should see--see Miss Hugonin
about this will business. You don't mind very much, do you--darling?"
Mr. Woods