"I am convinced that Mr.Divine is not," she replied non-committally.
She took a step toward the door.Theriere stood looking at her.She was unquestionably very good to look at.He could not remember ever having seen a more beautiful girl.A great desire to seize her in his arms swept over the man.Theriere had not often made any effort to harness his desires.What he wanted it had been his custom to take--by force if necessary.He took a step toward Barbara Harding.There was a sudden light in his eyes that the girl had not before seen there, and she reached quickly toward the knob of the door.
Theriere was upon her, and then, quickly, he mastered himself, for he recalled his coolly thought-out plan based on what Divine had told him of that clause in the will of the girl's departed grandparent which stipulated that the man who shared the bequest with her must be the choice of both herself and her father.He could afford to bide his time, and play the chivalrous protector before he essayed the role of lover.
Barbara had turned a half-frightened look toward him as he advanced--in doubt as to his intentions.
"Pardon me, Miss Harding," he said; "the door is bolted--let me unlatch it for you," and very gallantly he did so, swinging the portal wide that she might pass out."I feared interruption," he said, in explanation of the bolt.
In silence they returned to the upper deck.The intoxication of sudden passion now under control, Theriere was again master of himself and ready to play the cold, calculating, waiting game that he had determined upon.Part of his plan was to see just enough of Miss Harding to insure a place in her mind at all times; but not enough to suggest that he was forcing himself upon her.Rightly, he assumed that she would appreciate thoughtful deference to her comfort and safety under the harrowing conditions of her present existence more than a forced companionship that might entail too open devotion on his part.And so he raised his cap and left her, only urging her to call upon him at any time that he might be of service to her.
Left alone the girl became lost in unhappy reflections, and in the harrowing ordeal of attempting to readjust herself to the knowledge that Larry Divine, her lifelong friend, was the instigator of the atrocious villainy that had been perpetrated against her and her father.She found it almost equally difficult to believe that Mr.Theriere was so much more sinned against than sinning as he would have had her believe.And yet, did his story not sound even more plausible than that of Divine which she had accepted before Theriere had made it possible for her to know the truth? Why, then, was it so difficult for her to believe the Frenchman? She could not say, but in the inmost recesses of her heart she knew that she mistrusted and feared the man.
As she stood leaning against the rail, buried deep in thought, Billy Byrne passed close behind her.At sight of her a sneer curled his lip.How he hated her! Not that she ever had done aught to harm him, but rather because she represented to him in concrete form all that he had learned to hate and loathe since early childhood.
Her soft, white skin; her shapely hands and well-cared-for nails; her trim figure and perfectly fitting suit all taunted him with their superiority over him and his kind.He knew that she looked down upon him as an inferior being.She was of the class that addressed those in his walk of life as "my man."Lord, how he hated that appellation!
The intentness of his gaze upon her back had the effect so often noted by the observant, and suddenly aroused from the lethargy of her misery the girl swung around to meet the man's eyes squarely upon her.Instantly she recognized him as the brute who had killed Billy Mallory.If there had been hate in the mucker's eyes as he looked at the girl, it was as nothing by comparison with the loathing and disgust which sprang to hers as they rested upon his sullen face.
So deep was her feeling of contempt for this man, that the sudden appearance of him before her startled a single exclamation from her.
"Coward!" came the one word, involuntarily, from her lips.
The man's scowl deepened menacingly.He took a threatening step toward her.
"Wot's dat?" he growled."Don't get gay wit me, or I'll black dem lamps fer yeh," and he raised a heavy fist as though to strike her.
The mucker had looked to see the girl cower before his threatened blow--that would have been ample atonement for her insult, and would have appealed greatly to his Kelly-gang sense of humor.Many a time had he threatened women thus, for the keen enjoyment of hearing their screams of fright and seeing them turn and flee in terror.When they had held their ground and opposed him, as some upon the West Side had felt sufficiently muscular to do, the mucker had not hesitated to "hand them one." Thus only might a man uphold his reputation for bravery in the vicinage of Grand Avenue.
He had looked to see this girl of the effete and effeminate upper class swoon with terror before him; but to his intense astonishment she but stood erect and brave before him, her head high held, her eyes cold and level and unafraid.And then she spoke again.
"Coward!" she said.
Billy almost struck her; but something held his hand.What, he could not understand.Could it be that he feared this slender girl? And at this juncture, when the threat of his attitude was the most apparent, Second Officer Theriere came upon the scene.At a glance he took in the situation, and with a bound had sprung between Billy Byrne and Barbara Harding.
