A PARTHIAN SHOT 'SHALL I go?' asked Zita. 'No, stay. There can nothing pass betwixt us but what you may hear. And now that he is come, he shall witness the signature to the will.' 'I would rather leave.' Further discussion of this point was prevented by the entrance of Mark. The young man noticed that Zita was in the room, but he did not look at her or address her. He directed his eyes steadily at Drownlands, who remained seated at the table. 'I have come on business,' said Mark. 'Say what it is.' Mark demurred. 'Let us speak together in private.' 'No; what has to be said may be said before her.' 'If you wish it. I have come concerning Kainie.' 'What about Kainie?' 'She is your niece.' 'To my sorrow.' 'You should not say that. She is a good girl. Not to your sorrow, but to your shame.' Drownlands stamped. 'Spare me words. My patience will not stretch far.' 'Kainie is your sister's only child. She is your nearest relative. I have come to you in her interest. It is no longer possible for her to remain at Red Wings.' 'Why not?' 'It is not seemly. It is not just. The Fens are in commotion; wild men are about, lawless deeds are being done. She is but a girl, and is unprotected, and away from help, if she needed it.' 'She has her dog.' 'That is not sufficient. Dogs have been silenced before now. Consider to what dangers a girl is exposed in such a solitary spot.' 'Pshaw! the men are cowed.' 'Several are about in hiding, and are not yet captured. You do a great wrong to Kainie.' 'I do her no wrong. I leave her alone.' 'That in itself is a grievous wrong. Whose duty is it to guard her, but yours? She bears your name.' 'To my disgrace!' exclaimed Drownlands, glaring up with wrath. 'No more of that.' 'Well, it is no pleasant topic.' 'Did Kainie send you to me?' 'No; I came because I felt concerned for her, and convinced that she must not be allowed—no, not for another night—to remain under the sails of Red Wings. Will you receive her at Prickwillow?' 'Not I.' 'She must be removed from the mill. If you will not take charge of her, then I must.' 'You are welcome. I will have nothing to do with her.' 'Well, then, so be it. It is your duty to see to her security. You refuse to do your duty, so I shall take her. That is settled. Now, one thing further. Will you make Kainie an allowance,—something to support her,—even if you refuse her shelter?' 'Not a penny. I washed my hands of her mother, and I wash my hands of her.' 'I feared this would be your answer,' said Mark, and drew a long breath. 'I feared my application to you would be in vain. Nevertheless, I considered myself bound to make it; I could not act till you had refused to act; much as did Boaz when troubled concerning Ruth. You finally refuse to give protection to Kainie in her loneliness, and at this season of danger?' 'Ay, I do.' 'And refuse to furnish her with even a pittance out of your abundance?' 'Ay, I do.' 'You should blush to deny her what she needs.' 'I blush for her being in the world at all.' Mark turned to go. Then Drownlands spoke out in strong tones— 'Stay! Now that you are here, I ask you to do me a favour. It is not much—merely to witness a document, to attest my signature to my will. I desire you to see me sign that, and it will be the best answer I can make to your application on behalf of Kainie. Zita, call up Leehanna Tunkiss.' Mrs. Tunkiss was behind the door. She had been listening in the passage, and now appeared in the doorway, after a short scuffle of feet, to give a semblance of her having come from a distance. 'Do you want me, master?' she asked. 'I was in the midst of baking.' 'Stand there,' ordered Drownlands. Then, rising to his feet, he held up the will and said, 'I have been making my last testament, and I desire that you, Mark Runham, and you, Leehanna Tunkiss, should see me sign it. But that will not suffice. I wish you to know its contents, and then there can be no question relative to its genuineness; and, above all, no delusions, no hopes, no schemes can be based on relationship, fancied or real, that are doomed to disappointment.' Drownlands looked round him. He saw a flicker in Leehanna's eye. She was akin to him distantly, yet really. 'Zita and I have come to an understanding together,' said the yeoman, in articulate words spoken slowly. 'Zita has promised that she will remain with me, and will look after my house, rule over my servants, attend to my comforts as long as I live. If you, Leehanna, choose to remain with this understanding'— 'I shall do no such thing,' said the housekeeper, tossing her head. 'I thought matters would come to this very quickly. I knew what the minx was aiming at.' 'That is your affair,' said the master. 'Zita stays here, and her word is to be law in my house. I have made my will, and leave to her everything I possess—every brick of my house, every clod of my soil, every guinea of my hoard.' He paused, and looked from one to another. Mark and Leehanna remained mute with astonishment. 'Now go, Mark Runham, as soon as you have attested my signature, and tell Kainie she has nothing to expect from me at present, nor in times to come—nothing from Drownlands living, or Drownlands dead. Let this be known throughout the Fens. Mark Runham, stand here and witness me sign my name. This is my true act and deed.' 'I will not do this,' said the young man, turning white. 'Get some one else to see this 'Mark!' exclaimed Zita, running to him. 'Stand back!' said he roughly. 'Do not come near me; you, who sell yourself body and soul for what you call profits.' Then he turned and staggered down the stairs. 'And I give notice that I leave this house at once,' said Mrs. Tunkiss. 'Fine goings on these be. I have ever kept myself respectable. I've been the only respectable woman here besides Sarah. I'm not going to stay in this house, which will be avoided by every decent woman, with a man that will be pointed at by every decent man, with her in it as missus—as missus'— The woman laughed bitterly, tauntingly, and threw a foul name in the face of Zita, and then backed, with a sneer on her lips and hate in her eyes. |