At the end of a minute Christopher reappeared, bearing the lantern, which he declared was quite unnecessary because of the rising moon.
"Oh, but I must talk indoors," responded Will; "the night makes me creepy--it always did.""So there is something to say, and it's no nonsense? Are the skies about to fall, or has your grandfather got a grip on his temper?""Pshaw! It's not that.Wait till we get inside." And when they had entered the barn, he turned and carefully closed the door, after flashing the light over the trampled straw in the dusky corners.In the shed outside a new-born calf bleated plaintively, and at the sound he started and broke into an apologetic laugh.
"You thought I was joking to-day," he said suddenly.
Christopher nodded.
"So I presumed," he answered, wondering if drink or love or both together had produced so extreme an agitation.
"Well, I wasn't," declared Will, and, placing the lantern on the floor, he raised his head to meet the other's look."I was as dead in earnest as I am this minute--and if it's the last word Iever speak, I mean to marry Molly Peterkin."His excitable nerves were plainly on the rack of some strong emotion, and as he met the blank amazement in Christopher's face he turned away with a gesture of angry reproach.
"Then you're a fool," said Christopher, with a shrug of his shoulders.
Will quivered as if the words struck him like a whip.
"Because she's Sol Peterkin's daughter?" he burst out.
Christopher smiled.
"It's not her father, but her character, that I was thinking of,"he answered, and the next instant fell back in sheer surprise, for Will, flinging himself recklessly upon him, struck him squarely in the mouth.
As they fell breathlessly apart Christopher was conscious that for the first time in his life he felt something like respect for Will Fletcher--or at least for that expression of courageous passion which in the vivid moments of men's lives appears to raise the strong and the weak alike above the ordinary level of their surroundings.For a second he stood swallowing down the anger which the blow aroused in him--an anger as purely physical as the mounting of the hot blood to his cheek--then he looked straight into the other's face and spoke in a pleasant voice.
"I beg your pardon; it was all my fault," he said.
"I knew you'd see it," answered Will, appeased at once by the confession, "and I counted on you to help us; that's why I came.""To help you?" repeated Christopher, a little startled.
"Well, we've got to be married, you know--there's simply nothing else to do.All this confounded talk about Molly has come near killing her, and the poor child is afraid to look anybody in the face.She's so innocent, you know, that half the time she doesn't understand what their lies are all about.""Good God!" said Christopher beneath his breath.
"And besides, what use is there in waiting?" urged Will."Grandpa won't be any better fifty years from now than he is to-day, and by that time we'd be old and gray-haired.This life is more than I can stand, anyway, and it makes mighty little difference whether it ends one way or another.Just so I have Molly I don't care much what happens.""But you can't marry--it's simply out of the question.Why, you're not yet twenty.""Oh, we can't marry here, of course, but we're going on to Washington to-morrow--all our plans are made, and that's why Icame to see you.I want to borrow your horses to take us to the crossroads at midnight."Seizing him by the shoulder, Christopher shook him roughly in a powerful grasp.
"Wake up," he said impatiently; "you are either drunk or asleep, and you're going headlong to the devil.If you do this thing you'll be ashamed of it in two weeks." Then he released him, laughing as he watched him totter and regain his balance."But if you're bent on being an ass, then, for heaven's sake, go and be one," he added irritably.
A shiver passed through Will, and he stuttered an instant before he could form his words.
"She told me you'd say that," he replied."She told me you'd always hated her.""Hate her? Nonsense! She isn't worth it.I'd as soon hate a white kitten.As far as that goes, I've nothing against the girl, and Idon't doubt she'd be a much better wife than most men deserve.
I'm not prating about virtue, mind you; I'm only urging common sense.You're too young and too big a fool to marry anybody.""Well, you disapprove of her, at any rate--you're against her, and that's why I haven't talked about her before.She's the most beautiful creature alive, I tell you, and I wouldn't give her up if to keep her meant I'd be a beggar.""It will mean that, most likely."
Turning away, Will drew a small flask from his pocket and, unscrewing the stopper, raised the bottle to his lips."I'd go mad but for this," he said; "that's why I've carried it about with me for the last week.It's the only thing that drives away this horrible depression."As he drank, Christopher regarded him curiously, noting that the whisky lent animation to his face and an unnatural luster to his eyes.The sunburn on his forehead appeared to deepen all at once, and there was a bright red flush across his cheeks.
"You won't take my advice," said Christopher at last, "but Ican't help telling you that unless you're raving mad you'd better drop the whole affair as soon as possible.""Not now--not now, " protested Will gaily, consumed by an artificial energy."Don't preach to me while the taste of a drink is still in my mouth, for there's no heart so strong as the one whisky puts into a man.When I feel my courage oozing from my fingers I can reinforce it in less time than it takes to sneak away."Growing boisterous, he assumed a ridiculous swagger, and broke into a fragment of a college song.Until morning he would not probably become himself again, and, knowing this, Christopher desisted helplessly from his efforts at persuasion.
"You will lend me the horses?" asked Will, keeping closely to his point.
"Are you steady enough?"
