The Tryst (Annotated) (Grace Livingston Hill Book) (41 page)

It was three days before Angelo's trial, and it was early evening. Patty was alone in the great house except for the servants. The family had gone out to a dinner given by a relative. Even Miss Cole had felt it incumbent upon her to accept, though she grumbled a good deal about it all the time she was getting ready. 

Patty was always restless when she was alone without duties. Then most of all she missed her father. Also, she was worried about Angelo. She had not heard how things were progressing in a long time. Since she had learned from Hespur that Treeves worked at The Plant she had been afraid to go over there lest she might meet him, but she had written to Mary della Camera asking how things were progressing and if there was anything she could do. As yet no reply had come. 

Patty was just preparing to sit down to her solitary dinner served to-night in her own room, when the maid came up to say that there was a boy down at the servants' entrance who insisted on seeing her. Patty hurried down and found Mary's small brother Dominic, a boy of twelve, with eyes like great black pansies fringed with black curling lashes. He might have been the model for one of Rafael’s cherubs, so soulful was his glance. He spoke English well: 

“My sister send me. She said you would know what to do,” he said in a low tone, looking around furtively to see if anyone was listening. 

Patty drew him into a little storeroom where they could talk undisturbed. 

“There has been awful things going on,” he said, looking at her eagerly. “The men are mad. They are going to do things to-night. They are going to mebbe blow up the Works to-night. They are going across the river and put bombs under the new town over there. Joyville, they call it Joyville--” Patty caught her breath. “It will be Hellville by morning if something doesn't stop 'em. Nobody can stop 'em but Tree and we can't find Tree!” 

“But why do they want to do a thing like that?” asked Patty, her eyes wide with horror. 

“'Cause they hate Mr. Hor'-Cor'! They say he make 'em work, work, and little pay. Poor houses and big rent. Houses leak, and he won't mend 'em. He makes us mend 'em.” 

“But the village, the new houses and the church --! Why should they hurt that?” 

“They say he build it for his bosses. He build nice houses for them and let the laborers live in old houses--!” 

“But that isn't so. Mr. Horliss-Cole has nothing to do with the new settlement across the river. I know, for I happen to know the owner. He is a good man!” 

“You couldn't make them b'lieve that. Nobody couldn't make 'em believe nothing but Tree. They think Hor'-Cor' is going to get Angelo hung and they’re mad and they’ll kill him if they could find him! Nobody can't stop 'em but Tree, and we can't find him. He's gone somewheres else to live and nobody don't know where he's at.” 

“Oh," said Patty with her hands clasped together, “I know-- at least I think I do.” 

The boy gripped her hand eagerly, “Come get your hat. We go!” 

“Oh,” said Patty, “I couldn't go to-night, but I can tell you where the house is. You know that first house up on the bluff across the river? The one you see from your front porch?” 

Dominic nodded: “Suppose he not there?” 

“Oh, but Hespur would be -- I'm sure -- you could tell Hespur.” 

“No!” said the boy decidedly. “I tell no one but you and Tree.” 

“Perhaps I ought to tell Mr. Horliss-Cole and have him send the police!” 

The boy's face darkened. 

“You go back on us, too! You turn yella!” There came an old man's look on his set young jaw. A look of utter hopelessness, and tragedy, yes, and a desire for vengeance, too.  “You tell on us, and get the police and Angelo get hanged. Mr. Hor'-Cor' get more mad and turn us all out. We all die!”

“Oh,” said Patty putting her hands over her eyes, “don't! Of course I wouldn't do that! I was only trying to think what to do! Of course he mustn't know it. Mr. Treeves is the one. He will know what to do. I will go with you and find him. Wait for me here a minute. I will get my coat and hat and go with you.” 

“I am going out for a little while. You need not keep my dinner for me,” said Patty putting in her head at the pantry door, and then she flew up the stairs to her room. She was down in a moment more, and they were out in the street together. It seemed somehow a relief. The lighted streets, the people hurrying home to their dinners, the quiet stars above: it seemed to give her steadiness. Nothing so dreadful as blowing up The Plant and the wonderful village --Joyville, Joyville! He had named it that! Nothing like what Dominic had been telling could happen in a world where filings went by law and order. It seemed absurd almost to think it could. Then she looked at the set face of the boy by her side and hurried on. 

They took the trolley to The Plant. It was a full three-quarters of an hour before they reached there, and then the ferryboat had just gone as they arrived at the landing. The tail lights blinked leeringly at them as they looked across the water as if the boat, too, were in league with the devil against righteousness and, peace and -- Joyville. 

They waited quietly, not talking, for Patty did not care to be seen out there alone with a mere boy at night, although it was early yet, and Dominic hovered in the shadow of an old shed and peered out at any approaching figure. He seemed anxious and alert, like a man who had much responsibility. 

When they were on board the ferry Patty began to realize what she was doing. After keeping out of John Treeves’s way for all these months she was going deliberately into his presence! But then it could not be helped. Dominic might not have found him, and HE MUST BE FOUND! She set her lips in a firm little line and began to try to plan. Up there on the bluff a friendly light twinkled out over the water. Some one was there all right. He was likely having his supper. She would tell Dominic to go in and she would remain outside in the shadow. If he was there she would tell Dominic to keep still about her being there at all. He could take Mr. Treeves over at once. They would likely go in the canoe and not wait for the next boat, and she would follow later on the boat and slip around by a back way to the trolley and so home. She was glad she had remembered to bring her veil. Of course it was thin, but it would help a little to conceal her identity. She loosened the folds and arranged it in full drapery about her face. 

Silently the girl and boy climbed the hill, and Dominic knocked at the door, while Patty stood in the shadows of the laurel bushes. The boy had not questioned her directions: 

But instead of Hespur's tall form standing in the lighted doorway when it was opened, there stood a little lame boy whom Patty had never seen before, and Dominic did not seem to know: 

“No, he ain't here!” answered the boy promptly. “ Neither of 'em ain't here! Mr. Hespur he's gone to town for something Mr. Treeves wanted at the big house, and Mr. Treeves he’s gone out in the woods about a mile. Somebody come along a little while ago, some young man, and said there was a fellow named Angelo had broke jail and got away and he was up here back a piece lying in a barn dying of a shot he got while he made his getaway. They said he wanted to make a confession and they wanted Mr. Treeves to come and hear it. Something about a murder.” 

“It's a lie! murmured Dominic under his breath, drawing his old cap down over his young-old face. “It's a LIE! Angelo never broke jail! Angelo knows better'n that, and Angelo ain't got no confession to make, 'cause he never murdered that man! It's a lie and somebody's doing dirty work. I better go get help!” and Dominic turned and fled down the bluff toward the shore. 

“Dominic! Wait!” called Patty stepping out of the shadow in a panic; but Dominic was out of sight and in a moment more she could hear the splash of a paddle. He had wrenched the lock of Treeves's canoe and was going back across the river as fast as he could go. 

Then Patty turned back to the boy. 

“Which way did you say Mr. Treeves had gone?” she questioned. 

“Straight up that road to the road gate, and then back along the Pike. He said it was about a mile. The man that told him said it was an old red barn back in the meadow behind the second farm house.” 

“Did you know the man who brought the message?” asked Patty. 

“No, I don't know nobody round this dump. I live in the city. Mr. Treeves just brought me out here 'cause I been in the hospital havin' an operation and the doctor said I needed country air. I’ll be glad to get back to town, I will; nothin' to see out here but water and boats. Gee! I'm sick of it. Mister Treeves is all right, of course, and Mr. Hespur he ain't so bad, but I wantta get back.” 

But Patty had not stayed to hear it all. She was walking rapidly out the newly paved road toward the gate of Joyville and in a moment more she turned into the Pike. The stars were out in thick spring clusters, and a faint little thread of a moon hung near the tops of the trees. It was not so dark when one got started and the road was straight and wide and empty. She was not much afraid. She kept telling herself that it was early yet, and no one knew she was coming, so why should she be afraid? Perhaps an automobile would come along in a minute and she could ask the people to take her a little way. They would think she was going to one of the farm houses. 

But no friendly car came, and she sped on her way. It seemed miles before she reached the first farm house and there was only a dim light in what must be the kitchen window. The second farm house was nowhere in sight. She flew on, feeling as if she were leaving the last hope behind. It seemed an endless way before a dark house appeared, stark against the horizon where a luminous spot from the river managed to glimpse between the trees. Yes, there was the bam, and a faint light flickered, more like a glow than a light. Now and then it wavered as if the wind moved it and Patty hurried on until she reached the door, then paused an instant to quiet her pounding heart. It was almost more than she could do to speak, and her voice sounded like a sob of joy as she said: 

“John! John Treeves, is that you?” 

“Patty!” 

He rose from a stooping position over a pallet of hay on the floor where a dark form lay huddled, and came to meet her. The flickering candle stuck on an old tin can sent flickering shadows over his face, but there was joy and wonder in his eyes and voice as he came to meet her with outstretched arms. 

“Patty! Little Pard! How did you come here?” 

He took both her hands in his and let his eyes devour her, and for a moment she stood so, looking in his face speechless because her breath was gone. The fright, the unusual responsibility, the long, hard walk, the terror of the darkness and loneliness all seemed to drop from her at sight of him. She felt weak and tired and wanted to drop down and be comforted. But instead she remembered what had brought her here, and began to gasp it out even before she had regained her breath. 

“You must go,” she pleaded, “you must go and stop them! They are planning terrible things to-night and no one else can do any good!” 

But he paid no heed to her words, only looked in her eyes and said with conviction, “Patty, it has been you all the time. I knew it! You have been hiding from me. Patty, why did you do it?” 

“Oh!” said Patty laughing and crying together. “Never mind now, I can't stop to explain. You must go back at once to the men. They are going to blow up The Plant, and the new village, and perhaps shoot Mr. Horliss-Cole, and then nothing we can do will save Angelo from being hanged!” 

“Patty! How should you know about all this?” 

“Dominic told me! He came to the house for me, and I came out here to help him find you, but when he heard you were here he shouted something about 'dirty work' and somebody being a liar, and rushed off. I think he took your boat and went back to get help. You must go quick! You really must. He thought they were planning to do something very soon! He said nobody but 'Tree' could stop it!” 

“Patty! You are the lady of the smiling face!” 

“But never mind now,” said Patty. “Go quick!” and she began to pull him toward the door. 

John Treeves stopped her. 

“Patty, I can't leave. Look at there!” pointing to the unconscious figure on the straw. “That man is dying. He is Angelo's good-for-nothing brother. I think he know something about the murder that may set Angelo free. He sent for me to take a confession, and when I got here he was unconscious. He roused once and said enough to make me sure he knows something. I’ve sent for a doctor, but I must stay and get it all if he should rouse again.” 

Patty considered. 

“I will stay!” she said quietly. “I can take his confession and write it down even if I am not you, but I cannot quiet those men who are bent on destruction. You will have to go.” 

Treeves looked troubled. 

“I can't leave you here alone with a dying man, Patty! I think Dominic unduly alarmed. All was quiet when I left. Besides, Dominic was wrong about thinking there was 'dirty work,' as he called it. This man might easily have been mistaken for Angelo. I think the messenger was genuine.” 

Patty looked troubled. Angelo had succeeded in fixing upon her mind the necessity for Treeves's immediate presence at The Plant. She could not get away from it. 

“You must go!” she said firmly. “I am not afraid to stay. You can send Hespur or somebody when you have time, but I am going to stay now. Don't you remember how you used to call me Little Pard? Well, I'm that now and this is my job. Go, quickly!” 

“You -- Darling!” he said, and turned and went swiftly, calling back, “I'll send Hespur at once. It won't be long.” 

He was gone and she was alone in the great barn with the dying man. She gave a shiver and looked around her. She had been very brave before him, but she was deathly afraid now and trembling in every nerve. Then she bethought her of her new-found trust, and dropping on one knee on the dusty floor, she whispered: 

“Dear Christ, this is Patty again. Won't you please stay with me and take care of me? And, oh, don't let anything happen to John -- for Jesus's sake!”  

Then she got up, and taking the candle went over to the huddled figure in the corner. Holding the candle high, she examined his dark, sodden face carefully, wondering what kind of a man he was, and whether she could hope to rouse him and get a confession from him before he went away entirely from this earth and took his knowledge with him.