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Gunman's Reckoning

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<h2>42</h2> There was no crowd to block the hill at this second meeting of Donnegan and Lord Nick. There was a blank stretch of brown hillside with the wind whispering stealthily through the dead grass when Lord Nick thrust open the door of Donnegan's shack and entered. The little man had just finished shaving and was getting back into his coat while George carried out the basin of water. And Donnegan, as he buttoned the coat, was nodding slightly to the rhythm of a song which came from the cabin of the colonel near by. It was a clear, high music, and though the voice was light it carried the sound far. Donnegan looked up to Lord Nick; but still he kept the beat of the music. He seemed even more fragile this morning than ever before. Yet Lord Nick was fresh from the sight of the torn bodies of the two fighting men whom this fellow had struck and left for dead, or dying, as he thought. "Dismiss your servant," said Lord Nick. "George, you may go out." "And keep him out." "Don't come back until I call for you." Big George disappeared into the kitchen and the outside door was closed. Yet even with all the doors closed the singing of Lou Macon kept running through the cabin in a sweet and continuous thread. What made the ball so fine? Robin Adair! What made the assembly shine? Robin Adair! And no matter what Lord Nick could say, it seemed that with half his mind Donnegan was listening to the song of the girl. "First," said the big man, "I've broken my word." Donnegan waved his hand and dismissed the charge. He pointed to a chair, but Lord Nick paid no heed. "I've broken my word," he went on. "I promised that I'd give you a clear road to win over Nelly Lebrun. I gave you the road and you've won her, but now I'm taking her back!" "Ah, Henry," said Donnegan, and a flash of eagerness came in his eyes. "You're a thousand times welcome to her." Lord Nick quivered. "Do you mean it?" "Henry, don't you see that I was only playing for a purpose all the time? And if you've opened the eyes of Nelly to the fact that you truly love her and I've been only acting out of a heartless sham—why, I'm glad of it—I rejoice, Henry, I swear I do!" He came forward, smiling, and held out his hand; Lord Nick struck it down, and Donnegan shrank back, holding his wrist tight in the fingers of his other hand. "Is it possible?" murmured Henry Reardon. "Is it possible that she loves a man who despises her?" "Not that! If any other man said this to me, I'd call for an explanation of his meaning, Henry. No, no! I honor and respect her, I tell you. By heaven, Nick, she has a thread of pure, generous gold in her nature!" "Ah?" "She has saved my life no longer ago than this morning." "It's perfect," said Lord Nick. And he writhed under a torment. "I am discarded for the sake of a man who despises her!" Donnegan, frowning with thought, watched his older brother. And still the thin singing entered the room, that matchless old melody of "Robin Adair;" the day shall never come when that song does not go straight from heart to heart. But because Donnegan still listened to it, Lord Nick felt that he was contemptuously received, and a fresh spur was driven into his tender pride. "Donnegan!" he said sharply. Donnegan raised his hand slowly. "Do you call me by that name?" "Aye. You've ceased to be a brother. There's no blood tie between us now, as I warned you before." Donnegan, very white, moved back toward the wall and rested his shoulders lightly against it, as though he needed the support. He made no answer. "I warned you not to cross me again." exclaimed Lord Nick. "I have not." "Donnegan, you've murdered my men!" "Murder? I've met them fairly. Not murder, Henry." "Leave out that name, I say!" "If you wish," said Donnegan very faintly. The sight of his resistlessness seemed to madden Lord Nick. He made one of his huge strides and came to the center of the room and dominated all that was in it, including his brother. "You murdered my men," repeated Lord Nick. "You turned my girl against me with your lying love-making and turned her into a spy. You made her set the trap and then you saw that it was worked. You showed her how she could wind me around her finger again." "Will you let me speak?" "Aye, but be short." "I swear to you, Henry, that I've never influenced her to act against you; except to win her away for just one little time, and she will return to you again. It is only a fancy that makes her interested in me. Look at us! How could any woman in her senses prefer me?" "Are you done?" "No, no! I have more to say: I have a thousand things!" "I shall not hear them" "Henry, there is a black devil in your face. Beware of it." "Who put it there?" "It was not I." "What power then?" "Something over which I have no control." "Are you trying to mystify me?" "Listen!" And as Donnegan raised his hand, the singing poured clear and small into the room. "That is the power," said Donnegan. "You're talking gibberish'" exclaimed the other pettishly. "I suppose I shouldn't expect you to understand." "On the other hand, what I have to say is short and to the point. A child could comprehend it. You've stolen the girl. I tried to let her go. I can't. I have to have her. Willing or unwilling she has to belong to me, Donnegan." "If you wish, I shall promise that I shall never see her again or speak to her." "You fool' Won't she find you out? Do you think I could trust you? Only in one place—underground." Donnegan had clasped his hands upon his breast and his eyes were wide. "What is it you mean, Henry?" "I'll trust you—dead!" "Henry!" "That name means nothing to me I've forgotten it. The worlds has forgotten it." "Henry, I implore you to keep cool—to give me five minutes for talk—" "No, not one. I know your cunning tongue!" "For the sake of the days when you loved me, my brother. For the sake of the days when you used to wheel my chair and be kind to me." "You're wasting your time. You're torturing us both for nothing. Donnegan, my will is a rock. It won't change." And drawing closer his right hand gripped his gun and the trembling passion of the gunfighter set him shuddering. "You're armed, Garry. Go for your gun!" "No, no!" "Then I'll give you cause to fight." And as he spoke, he drew back his massive arm and with his open hand smote Donnegan heavily across the face. The weight of that blow crushed the little man against the wall. "Your gun!" cried Lord Nick, swaying from side to side as the passion choked him. Donnegan fell upon his knees and raised his arms. "God have mercy on me, and on yourself!" At that the blackness cleared slowly on the face of the big man; he thrust his revolver into the holster. "This time," he said, "there's no death. But sooner or later we meet, Donnegan, and then, I swear by all that lives, I'll shoot you down—without mercy—like a mad dog. You've robbed me; you've hounded me: you've killed my men: you've taken the heart of the woman I love. And now nothing can save you from the end." He turned on his heel and left the room. And Donnegan remained kneeling, holding a stained handkerchief to his face. All at once his strength seemed to desert him like a tree chopped at the root, and he wilted down against the wall with closed eyes. But the music still came out of the throat and the heart of Lou, and it entered the room and came into the ears of Donnegan. He became aware that there was a strength beyond himself which had sustained him, and then he knew it had been the singing of Lou from first to last which had kept the murder out of his own heart and restrained the hand of Lord Nick. Perhaps of all Donnegan's life, this was the first moment of true humility. <hr style="width: 65%;"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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