18. CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ENCOUNTER.
JUST before August came out of the door of
Julia's room he had heard Humphreys enter his
room on the opposite side of the hall. Humphreys
had lighted his cigar and was on his way to the
porch to smoke off his discomfiture when he met August
coming out of Julia's door on the opposite side of the hall.
The candle in Humphreys's room threw its light full on August's
face, there was no escape from recognition, and Wehle was too
proud to retreat. He shut the door of Julia's room and stood
with back against the wall staring at Humphreys, who did not
forget to smile in his most aggravating way.
“Thief! thief!” called Humphreys.
In a moment Mrs. Anderson and Julia ran up the stairs, followed
by Mr. Anderson, who hearing the outcry had left the
matter of the Apocalypse unsettled, and by Jonas and Cynthy
Ann, who had just arrived.
“I knew it,” cried Mrs. Anderson, turning on the mortified
Julia, “I never knew a Dutchman nor a foreigner of any sort
that wouldn't steal. Now you see what you get by taking a
fancy to a Dutchman. And now
you see”—to her husband—
“what
you get by taking a Dutchman into your house. I always
wanted you to hire white men and not Dutchmen nor
thieves!”
“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Anderson,” said August, with very
white lips, “I am not a thief.”
“Not a thief, eh? What was he doing, Mr. Humphreys, when
you first detected him?”
“Coming out of Miss Anderson's room,” said Humphreys,
smiling politely.
“Do you invite gentlemen to your room?” said the frantic
woman to Julia, meaning by one blow to revenge herself and
crush the stubbornness of her daughter forever. But Julia was
too anxious about August to notice the shameless insult.
“Mrs. Anderson, this visit is without any invitation from
Julia. I did wrong to enter your house in this way, but I only
am responsible, and I meant to enter Jonas's room. I did not
know that Julia occupied this room. I am to blame, she is not.”
“And what did you break in for if you didn't mean to steal?
It is all off between you and Jule, for I saw your letter. I shall
have you arrested to-morrow for burglary. And I think you
ought to be searched. Mr. Humphreys, won't you put him out?”
Humphreys stepped forward toward August, but he noticed
that the latter had a hard look in his eyes, and had two stout
German fists shut very tight. He turned back.
“These thieves are nearly always armed. I think I had best
get a pistol out of my trunk.”
“I have no arms, and you know it, coward,” said August.
“I will not be put out by anybody, but I will go out whenever
[ILLUSTRATION]
"GOOD-BY!"
[Description: 555EAF. Illustration page. Page 126. Engraving of a woman leaning over a staircase
railing to clasp the hand of a man with his hat in his hand.]
the master of this house asks me to go out, and the rest of you
open a free path.”
“Jonas, put him out!” screamed Mrs. Anderson.
“Couldn't do it,” said Jonas, “couldn't do it ef I tried.
They's too much bone and sinnoo in them arms of his'n, and
moreover he's a gentleman. I axed him to come and see me
sometime, and he come. He come ruther late it's true, but I
s'pose he thought that sence we got sech a dee-splay of watch-seals
and straps we had all got so stuck up, we wouldn't receive
calls afore fashionable hours. Any way, I 'low he didn't mean
no harm, and he's my visitor, seein' he meant to come into my
winder, knowin' the door was closed agin him. And he won't
let no man put him out, 'thout he's a man with more'n half a
dozen watch-seals onto him, to give him weight and influence.”
“Samuel, will you see me insulted in this way? Will you put
this burglar out of the house?”
The “head of the house,” thus appealed to, tried to look important;
he tried to swell up his size and his courage. But he
did not dare touch August.
“Mr. Anderson, I beg your pardon. I had no right to come
in as I did. I had no right so to enter a gentleman's house. If
I had not known that this cowardly fop—I don't know what
else he may be—was injuring me by his lies I should not have
come in. If it is a crime to love a young lady, then I have
committed a crime. You have only to exercise your authority
as master of this house and ask me to go.”
“I do ask you to go, Mr. Wehle.”
It was the first time that Samuel Anderson had ever called
him Mr. Wehle. It was an involuntary tribute to the dignity of
the young man, as he stood at bay.
“Mr. Wehle, indeed!” said Mrs. Anderson.
August had hoped Julia would say a word in his behalf. But
she was too much cowed by her mother's fierce passion. So like
a criminal going to prison, like a man going to his own funeral,
August Wehle went down the hall toward the stairs, which
were at the back of it. Humphreys instinctively retreated into
his room. Mrs. Anderson glared on the young man as he went
by, but he did not turn his head even when he passed Julia.
His heart and hope were all gone; in his mortification and
defeat there seemed to him nothing left but his unbroken
pride to sustain him. He had descended two or three steps,
when Julia suddenly glided forward and said with a tremulous
voice: “You aren't going without telling me good-by, August?”
“Jule Anderson! what do you mean?” cried her mother.
But the hall was narrow by the stairway, and Jonas, by standing
close to Cynthy Ann, in an unconscious sort of a way managed
to keep Mrs. Anderson back; else she would have laid violent
hands on her daughter.
When August lifted his eyes and saw her face full of tenderness
and her hand reached over the balusters to him, he seemed
to have been suddenly lifted from perdition to bliss. The tears
ran unrestrained upon his cheeks, he reached up and took her
hand.
“Good-by, Jule! God bless you!” he said huskily, and went
out into the night, happy in spite of all.
