"Why should I say anything? Perhaps I should keep my peace and let
matters take their own course. I have a distinctive dislike to
interfering in any way with the affairs of other people. And yet, Miss
Jocelyn, I feel so strong an interest in you--you will forgive me if
I have to speak plainly; you will pardon me when you know I mean no
offense?--that I cannot keep my peace." A momentary struggle between
his desire to befriend her and his dislike to say evil of others, and
then with vehement intensity, "I will _not_ remain silent."
Whereupon he became immediately silent and remained so until the
curiosity which he had fired urged him to go on.
"When Conniston left the Half Moon and went to work in the Valley
under your father"--leaning forward, his low-toned voice again deeply
confidential--"the whole plot was laid and perfected. He was to work
there until he had learned all that Mr. Truxton could teach him, until
the greater part of the work had been done, and then your father was
to be discharged so that Conniston could take his place. Yes, and so
that when the work was completed--the work which your own father had
made possible--Conniston would reap the rewards of it, take all the
honors."
He paused suddenly, and again his pale eyes, intent upon the girl's
face, were keen with the shrewdness in them. Jocelyn sprang to her
feet, her face flaming, her body tense.
"The--the wretches!" she gasped.
Roger Hapgood made no reply, content for the moment to rest upon his
oars, watching the boat he had launched drift as it would.
"Why," asked Jocelyn, after a little, her face puzzled--"why do you
tell me this, when you are one of Mr. Crawford's lawyers?"
He lifted his hand as though warding off a blow.
"Don't say that! Miss Jocelyn, did you think that I was the sort of
man, so forgetful of his manhood, that I would remain in the service
of such people when I had found them out? Did you dream that I could
remain a part of a project a second after such a man as Conniston had
been put at the head of it? Did you think," half sadly, half
reproachfully, "that I could continue my affiliations with such men
after the treatment which Mr. Truxton--_your father_--had received?
Miss Jocelyn, I went straight to Mr. Winston and handed him my
resignation. Thank God that if I must give up my position I can at
least keep my self-respect!"
It was very effectively done, and Jocelyn thrilled with it.
"I am so sorry!" she said, softly, her light touch sympathetic upon
his arm. "So sorry that because of us--"
"Don't say it--please don't, Miss Jocelyn! I can never forget that it
was I, no matter how innocently, who helped them in getting the excuse
they were looking for. And don't you see, I shall feel in a way that
my fortune is linked with yours, I shall feel that there are certain
bonds between us, I shall feel that in a small, very small way I am
being of some light service to your father and," very softly--"and to
you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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