Her Forbidden Knight (20 page)

During the morning Lila received several visits from the good woman. She came to remove the tray, she came to fetch the morning papers, and she came to “tidy up the room.” On her sixth visit she entered somewhat precipitately and announced that there was a gentleman below to see Lila.

“Who is it?” asked Lila, turning quickly.

“He didn’t give his name,” said Mrs. Berry. “He’s a tall, sporty-lookin’, mean-lookin’ man.”

Lila reflected a moment, then asked Mrs. Berry to show him up. She grunted, and departed.

A minute later Billy Sherman entered the room.

Lila sprang to her feet with an involuntary exclamation of surprise and dismay.

“You!” she breathed.

Sherman nodded, laid his hat and gloves on a table near the door, and crossed the room to her side.

“Yes,” he said calmly, “I. Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Then, as Lila, unable to speak, pointed to the door with a shaking finger, he continued:

“Well, I’m glad to see you. No, I won’t go. And when you hear what I have to tell you, you won’t want me to go. I’ve played with you long enough, and it’s about time for us to understand each other. Sit down.”

Lila was trembling with indignation and fear. She remembered Knowlton’s story: this was the man who had caused all her suffering and Knowlton’s misfortune. Sherman’s person had always impressed her disagreeably; she now shrank from him as from a snake.

She forced herself to look at him.

“Mr. Sherman, if I had known it was you asking for me I would not have seen you. Go—at once—or I’ll call Mrs. Berry.”

“So you wouldn’t have seen me?” Sherman sneered. “Well, you’d have been sorry for it. If it wasn’t for me, do you know where you’d be now? You’d be in the Tombs. That trip of yours across the Hudson last night was a little indiscreet.”

He smiled grimly at her gasp of surprise and horror as he went on:

“You wouldn’t believe I was your friend, but maybe you will now. Couldn’t I have turned you over to the detectives last night? Remember, all I have to do is walk to a telephone—it’s not too late.”

Lila could only repeat:

“Go—go!”

“But that’s not what I want,” he continued, ignoring her cry. “I’m fool enough to want to protect you. I love you. For months you’ve laughed at me; now it’s my turn. You can’t look at me any more with your darned pious air of superiority. A girl that goes to visit a man in his rooms at night had better take what she can get. Wait! Wait till I finish!”

Lila, her eyes ablaze, had sprung to the door and begun to open it. But at the tone of Sherman’s last words, menacing and significant, she halted.

“I thought so,” said Sherman meaningly. “You’re not the one to break your own neck. Now do as I tell you, and you can save both Knowlton and yourself.”

Lila stared at him in surprise, incredulous.

“Oh, not for you,” he continued, reading her thought. “I’m not that kind of a fool. I put it to you straight: do you want to save Knowlton?”

“What—what has that to do with you?” stammered Lila, removing her hand from the door and turning to face him.

“Just this: I can save him, and I will—on one condition.”

“And the—one condition?”

“That you marry me.”

“I—marry—you!” The words choked her.

“Yes. The day that you become my wife John Knowlton is a free man. Otherwise—you know the alternative. And, my dear, you could make a worse bargain. As I said, you are not in a position to choose. And I love you; I will try to make you happy—”

“You—make me happy!”

The stinging scorn of the tone was indescribable. Sherman winced, and was moved to a sudden fury:

“Well, and if I don’t? I’ll have you! At last! And be careful—I may decide not to marry you. After all, why should I marry you? Knowlton didn’t. That touches you, does it? And what do you think of your lover now? Why don’t you go down to the Tombs and tell him—tell him—”

He sputtered and paused, overcome with jealous rage. Then, recovering himself with difficulty, he said calmly:

“And now I want your answer. You’re at the end of your rope, and you may as well talk sense. None of your high-flown, touch-me-if-you-dare stuff will go now—you’re up against a stiff proposition and you’ve got to make good.

“I’ve got you. Do you understand that? I’ve got you. You’d do anything for this Knowlton, would you? All right. When will you marry me?”

Lila wanted to cry out, to run from the room, to close her ears and eyes against his insults and his leering face. But she stood glued to the spot, unable either to speak or move.

The man, advancing a threatening step, repeated his question:

“When will you marry me?”

Her lips moved, but there was no sound.

“By Heaven, you will answer me!” said Sherman through clenched teeth. He reached her side in two long strides and grasped her arm fiercely. “Speak!” he hissed. “You little black-eyed devil—speak—tell me—”

At that moment there came three sharp knocks on the door—barely in time.

Sherman, muttering an oath, released Lila’s arm and turned quickly about. Lila placed her hand on the back of a chair for support, and, between quick, short, breaths, managed to murmur:

“Come in.”

The door opened. Mrs. Berry entered.

“More visitors,” she announced shortly, from the doorway. She seemed not to notice Lila’s agitation, and Sherman’s back was turned. “Mr. Dumain and Mr. Dougherty is down below and asks to see you.”

Then she ran over to Lila, and, placing her mouth close to her ear, whispered:

“I don’t know what this is all about, dearie, but if I can help you—”

Lila threw her arms around the good woman’s neck and kissed her.

“You can help me,” she murmured. “Send them up—Mr. Dumain and Mr. Dougherty—send them up at once! Dear Mrs. Berry, hurry!”

Whereupon Mrs. Berry sped from the room and down the stairs with flying skirts.

Lila stood by the open door. Sherman turned, his face livid with rage—or was it fear? His lips moved, but no words came from them. He stared straight at the door, as though stunned by surprise at the sudden check to his plans, and remained so as Lila advanced eagerly to meet the two men who came puffing up the stairs.

“I am glad to see you,” she declared, taking a hand of each.

Dumain bowed grandly, in silence. Dougherty gripped her hand with awkward roughness and stammered an unintelligible “Good morning!”

But he soon found his tongue. Lila moved aside, and at the same instant the newcomers caught sight of Sherman.

Dougherty’s eyes were filled with surprise for a moment, then they became alight with an unholy joy. He had spent half the night regretting what he considered the leniency of his treatment of Sherman, and here he was delivered unto his hand!

He pointed a finger at him and spoke to Lila.

“What is he doing here?”

But Lila was so relieved by the unexpected succor that she was scarcely able to speak.

“I don’t know,” she stammered. “I mean—it doesn’t matter, since you have come. Only, send him away—please—at once!”

Then at sight of the look on Dougherty’s face she grasped his arm.

“No—not that! Don’t hurt him! I mean—just send him away.”

But the ex-prizefighter shook off her detaining hand.

“Hurt him? Oh, no. No, I won’t exactly hurt him. I’ll just shake hands with him. Only I’m so glad to see him that I may be a little rough.”

His tone was sharp and clear as the ring of steel, and the touch of sarcasm made it only the more deadly. He started toward Sherman, who retreated with his back against the window, crouched halfway to the floor with his teeth showing in an ugly snarl of fear. The sight struck Lila dumb with terror.

It was Dumain who averted the catastrophe. Dougherty had nearly reached the window when he felt the little Frenchman’s hand on his arm, and tried to shake it off.

But Dumain only tightened his grip.

“But, Tom!
Mon Dieu!
Look at her! She weel scream—she weel faint. You can’t keel heem in zee presence of zee lady. Eet ees not what you call eet polite. Come! Beeg eediot!”

“Do you mean I ought to let him go?” demanded Dougherty, amazed.

“For now—yes. We keel heem later. Come—look at her!”

Lila added her voice:

“Please, Mr. Dougherty, just send him away. I think he won’t bother any more.”

Dougherty sighed. Such conduct as this was entirely beyond his comprehension. Since the fellow was there, why not give him what was coming to him?

However, he felt that he must bend to the wishes of the lady. Perhaps, after all, it would be a breach of decorum. But he was unable to speak; he merely stepped to one side as a sign that he obeyed the will of the majority against his own.

Sherman attempted to make his exit with dignity. But his step was considerably hurried as he crossed the room, and it degenerated into a run at the head of the stairs; and he forgot his hat and gloves. Dumain saw them on the table and threw them down the stairs after him.

Then Lila sank into a chair and burst into tears.

This rattled Dumain and Dougherty more than the presence of a dozen Shermans would have done. The little Frenchman walked about as though in search of a means of escape, and finally began examining a vase on the mantel with minute care.

The ex-prizefighter was seized with a fit of coughing and went over to close the door, banging it with a force that shook the house. They avoided meeting each other’s eyes and kept their backs turned toward Lila.

Dougherty watched Dumain fingering the vase till he could stand it no longer, then burst forth:

“You fool, can’t you do anything?”

Whereupon Lila smiled through her tears, and Dumain, turning, saw her, and sighed with immense relief.

“It’s I that am a fool,” said Lila, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, “but I just couldn’t help it. Oh, I am so glad you came! I thank you—thank you, with all my heart. And now he—Mr. Dougherty, why is he so afraid of you?”

“Him!” the ex-prizefighter snorted. “He’s afraid of everyone on earth, including himself. What was he doing here?”

Lila stammered, coloring.

“He—he wanted me to do something. It would do no good to tell you. I hope I shall never see him again. He frightens me. I am so glad you came!”

Then she forgot her confusion when she realized that she had not offered them chairs, and begged them to be seated. They obeyed her, Dumain with a flourish, Dougherty awkwardly.

There was a silence. Each of the men was waiting for the other to speak, and Lila gazed at each in turn.

Finally she said:

“Did you come from the hotel?”

“Yes,” echoed the two men.

Another silence. Dougherty moved about uneasily in his chair. Dumain twirled his mustache. Lila tried to think of something to say, but found her tongue tied by their embarrassment.

It was Dougherty who finally burst forth with a prodigious effort:

“I suppose you know why we came?”

Lila shook her head and invited an explanation.

“Well, we saw you wasn’t at the hotel, and we thought maybe you was at home, so we came up to see.”

“We thought perhaps eet was eelness.”

“You are very kind,” Lila murmured.

“And,” Dougherty continued, swallowing hard and forcing the words between his lips, “we wanted to talk to you about Knowlton.”

Lila turned her eyes full on the speaker, and Dumain threw him a nod of applause and encouragement.

“You see, we saw Sherman last night, and he told us all about it. I don’t want you to think we had anything to do with it. We wouldn’t peach on a guy, no matter who he was.”

“I didn’t think you would,” said Lila.

“But,” continued Dougherty, now fully started, “we ain’t sorry he got it. We’re glad he’s put away where he can’t do any more harm. We don’t like the way—”

“Did Mr. Sherman say—anything—about me?” Lila interrupted.

The ex-prizefighter looked away from her.

“Yes,” he said finally. “We know everything.”

“Then why did you come—”

“That’s what I’m going to tell you. And that’s why I started like I did. I want you to understand that we’re dead against Knowlton.

“Now, there’s no use talking about what’s past. We don’t care what you’ve done; we ain’t even going to say, ‘I told you so.’ What we want is to help you now.

“Knowlton’s done for, so there’s no use worrying about him, but from what Sherman said last night we was afraid you might get tangled up so you might have some trouble to get loose, and we want to let you know we’re right on the job to help you out of it. I guess that’s about all.”

Lila leaned forward in her chair.

“But you say—you are ‘dead against’ Mr. Knowlton?”

Dougherty said “Yes” with emphasis, and Dumain nodded vigorously.

“Then—I thank you,” said Lila.

Her tone caused the ex-prizefighter to look at her quickly.

“You mean—”

Lila rose to her feet. Tears were in her eyes, and her hands were clasped together so that little spots of red and white showed on them. Her voice, when she spoke, was low and quavering, but it held that depth of tone which is heard only when the words come from the heart.

“I mean—it is useless to talk to me longer, Mr. Dougherty. I am a very wretched girl. And now I shall offend you—I know it, but cannot help it. I can’t take your help, because I won’t desert Mr. Knowlton.”

Dougherty swore, and immediately was on his feet, stammering an apology, while Dumain glared at him fiercely.

Lila paid no attention to the interruption.

“You see—I can’t. Oh, don’t think me an ingrate—I know how kind you have been—but you don’t know as much about him as I do. And I can’t leave him without—I can’t think of him as you do”—she tried to smile—“because I am going to be his wife.”

“Mon Dieu!”
gasped Dumain. Dougherty was speechless.

“Yes,” said Lila—and there was a note of pride in her voice—“we are to be married. So, of course, you know how I feel about it, and I couldn’t very well expect you to help me—us. I am sorry, because I do care for you, but you would never understand—”

She paused. The ex-prizefighter and the little Frenchman each heaved a prodigious sigh. They looked at each other, and each read in the other’s eyes his own thought. The Frenchman nodded significantly and Dougherty turned to Lila.