The Blue Castle: a novel
intimate with rich old Doc. Redfern’s son—I didn’t care for. But I had
one friend—or thought I had. A clever, bookish chap—a bit of a writer.
That was a bond between us—I had some secret aspirations along that
line. He was older than I was—I looked up to him and worshipped him.
For a year I was happier than I’d ever been. Then—a burlesque sketch
came out in the college magazine—a mordant thing, ridiculing Dad’s
remedies. The names were changed, of course, but everybody knew what
and who was meant. Oh, it was clever—damnably so—and witty. McGill
rocked with laughter over it. I found out _he_ had written it.”
“Oh, were you sure?” Valancy’s dull eyes flamed with indignation.
“Yes. He admitted it when I asked him. Said a good idea was worth more
to him than a friend, any time. And he added a gratuitous thrust. ‘You
know, Redfern, there are some things money won’t buy. For instance—it
won’t buy you a grandfather.’ Well, it was a nasty slam. I was young
enough to feel cut up. And it destroyed a lot of my ideals and
illusions, which was the worst thing about it. I was a young
misanthrope after that. Didn’t want to be friends with any one. And
then—the year after I left college—I met Ethel Traverse.”
Valancy shivered. Barney, his hands stuck in his pockets, was regarding
the floor moodily and didn’t notice it.
“Dad told you about her, I suppose. She was very beautiful. And I loved
her. Oh, yes, I loved her. I won’t deny it or belittle it now. It was a
lonely, romantic boy’s first passionate love, and it was very real. And
I thought she loved me. I was fool enough to think that. I was wildly
happy when she promised to marry me. For a few months. Then—I found out
she didn’t. I was an involuntary eavesdropper on a certain occasion for
a moment. That moment was enough. The proverbial fate of the
eavesdropper overtook me. A girl friend of hers was asking her how she
could stomach Doc. Redfern’s son and the patent-medicine background.
“‘His money will gild the Pills and sweeten the Bitters,’ said Ethel,
with a laugh. ‘Mother told me to catch him if I could. We’re on the
rocks. But pah! I smell turpentine whenever he comes near me.’”
“Oh, Barney!” cried Valancy, wrung with pity for him. She had forgotten
all about herself and was filled with compassion for Barney and rage
against Ethel Traverse. How dared she?
“Well,”—Barney got up and began pacing round the room—“that finished
me. Completely. I left civilisation and those accursed dopes behind me
and went to the Yukon. For five years I knocked about the world—in all
sorts of outlandish places. I earned enough to live on—I wouldn’t touch
a cent of Dad’s money. Then one day I woke up to the fact that I no
longer cared a hang about Ethel, one way or another. She was somebody
I’d known in another world—that was all. But I had no hankering to go
back to the old life. None of that for me. I was free and I meant to
keep so. I came to Mistawis—saw Tom MacMurray’s island. My first book
had been published the year before, and made a hit—I had a bit of money
from my royalties. I bought my island. But I kept away from people. I
had no faith in anybody. I didn’t believe there was such a thing as
real friendship or true love in the world—not for me, anyhow—the son of
Purple Pills. I used to revel in all the wild yarns they told of me. In
fact, I’m afraid I suggested a few of them myself. By mysterious
remarks which people interpreted in the light of their own
prepossessions.
“Then—you came. I _had_ to believe you loved me—really loved _me_—not
my father’s millions. There was no other reason why you should want to
marry a penniless devil with my supposed record. And I was sorry for
you. Oh, yes, I don’t deny I married you because I was sorry for you.
And then—I found you the best and jolliest and dearest little pal and
chum a fellow ever had. Witty—loyal—sweet. You made me believe again in
the reality of friendship and love. The world seemed good again just
because you were in it, honey. I’d have been willing to go on forever
just as we were. I knew that, the night I came home and saw my
homelight shining out from the island for the first time. And knew you
were there waiting for me. After being homeless all my life it was
beautiful to have a home. To come home hungry at night and know there
was a good supper and a cheery fire—and _you_.
“But I didn’t realise what you actually meant to me till that moment at
the switch. Then it came like a lightning flash. I knew I couldn’t live
without you—that if I couldn’t pull you loose in time I’d have to die
with you. I admit it bowled me over—knocked me silly. I couldn’t get my
bearings for a while. That’s why I acted like a mule. But the thought
that drove me to the tall timber was the awful one that you were going
to die. I’d always hated the thought of it—but I supposed there wasn’t
any chance for you, so I put it out of my mind. Now I had to face
it—you were under sentence of death and I couldn’t live without you.
When I came home last night I had made up my mind that I’d take you to
all the specialists in the world—that something surely could be done
for you. I felt sure you couldn’t be as bad as Dr. Trent thought, when
those moments on the track hadn’t even hurt you. And I found your
note—and went mad with happiness—and a little terror for fear you
didn’t care much for me, after all, and had gone away to get rid of me.
But now, it’s all right, isn’t it, darling?”
Was she, Valancy being called “darling”?
“I _can’t_ believe you care for me,” she said helplessly. “I _know_ you
can’t. What’s the use, Barney? Of course, you’re sorry for me—of course
you want to do the best you can to straighten out the mess. But it
can’t be straightened out that way. You couldn’t love me—me.” She stood
up and pointed tragically to the mirror over the mantel. Certainly, not
even Allan Tierney could have seen beauty in the woeful, haggard little
face reflected there.
Barney didn’t look at the mirror. He looked at Valancy as if he would
like to snatch her—or beat her.
“Love you! Girl, you’re in the very core of my heart. I hold you there
like a jewel. Didn’t I promise you I’d never tell you a lie? Love you!
I love you with all there is of me to love. Heart, soul, brain. Every
fibre of body and spirit thrilling to the sweetness of you. There’s
nobody in the world for me but you, Valancy.”
“You’re—a good actor, Barney,” said Valancy, with a wan little smile.
Barney looked at her.
“So you don’t believe me—yet?”
“I—can’t.”
“Oh—damn!” said Barney violently.
Valancy looked up startled. She had never seen _this_ Barney. Scowling!
Eyes black with anger. Sneering lips. Dead-white face.
“You don’t want to believe it,” said Barney in the silk-smooth voice of
ultimate rage. “You’re tired of me. You want to get out of it—free from
me. You’re ashamed of the Pills and the Liniment, just as she was. Your
Stirling pride can’t stomach them. It was all right as long as you
thought you hadn’t long to live. A good lark—you could put up with me.
But a lifetime with old Doc Redfern’s son is a different thing. Oh, I
understand—perfectly. I’ve been very dense—but I understand, at last.”
Valancy stood up. She stared into his furious face. Then—she suddenly
laughed.
“You darling!” she said. “You do mean it! You do really love me! You
wouldn’t be so enraged if you didn’t.”
Barney stared at her for a moment. Then he caught her in his arms with
the little low laugh of the triumphant lover.
Uncle Benjamin, who had been frozen with horror at the keyhole,
suddenly thawed out and tiptoed back to Mrs. Frederick and Cousin
Stickles.
“Everything is all right,” he announced jubilantly.
Dear little Doss! He would send for his lawyer right away and alter his
will again. Doss should be his sole heiress. To her that had should
certainly be given.
Mrs. Frederick, returning to her comfortable belief in an overruling
Providence, got out the family Bible and made an entry under
“Marriages.”
CHAPTER XLIII
“But, Barney,” protested Valancy after a few minutes, “your
father—somehow—gave me to understand that you _still_ loved _her_.”
“He would. Dad holds the championship for making blunders. If there’s a
thing that’s better left unsaid you can trust him to say it. But he
isn’t a bad old soul, Valancy. You’ll like him.”
“I do, now.”
“And his money isn’t tainted money. He made it honestly. His medicines
are quite harmless. Even his Purple Pills do people whole heaps of good
when they believe in them.”
“But—I’m not fit for your life,” sighed Valancy. “I’m not—clever—or
well-educated—or——”
“My life is in Mistawis—and all the wild places of the world. I’m not
going to ask you to live the life of a society woman. Of course, we
must spend a bit of the time with Dad—he’s lonely and old——”
“But not in that big house of his,” pleaded Valancy. “I can’t live in a
palace.”
“Can’t come down to that after your Blue Castle,” grinned Barney.
“Don’t worry, sweet. I couldn’t live in that house myself. It has a
white marble stairway with gilt bannisters and looks like a furniture
shop with the labels off. Likewise it’s the pride of Dad’s heart. We’ll
get a little house somewhere outside of Montreal—in the real
country—near enough to see Dad often. I think we’ll build one for
ourselves. A house you build for yourself is so much nicer than a
hand-me-down. But we’ll spend our summers in Mistawis. And our autumns
travelling. I want you to see the Alhambra—it’s the nearest thing to
the Blue Castle of your dreams I can think of. And there’s an old-world
garden in Italy where I want to show you the moon rising over Rome
through the dark cypress-trees.”
“Will that be any lovelier than the moon rising over Mistawis?”
“Not lovelier. But a different kind of loveliness. There are so many
kinds of loveliness. Valancy, before this year you’ve spent all your
life in ugliness. You know nothing of the beauty of the world. We’ll
climb mountains—hunt for treasures in the bazaars of Samarcand—search
out the magic of east and west—run hand in hand to the rim of the
world. I want to show you it all—see it again through your eyes. Girl,
there are a million things I want to show you—do with you—say to you.
It will take a lifetime. And we must see about that picture by Tierney,
after all.”
“Will you promise me one thing?” asked Valancy solemnly.
“Anything,” said Barney recklessly.
“Only one thing. You are never, under any circumstances or under any
provocation, to cast it up to me that I asked you to marry me.”
CHAPTER XLIV
E_xtract from letter written by Miss Olive Stirling to Mr. Cecil
Bruce:_
“It’s really disgusting that Doss’ crazy adventures should have turned
out like this. It makes one feel that there is no use in behaving
properly.
“I’m _sure_ her mind was unbalanced when she left home. What she said
about a dust-pile showed that. Of course I don’t think there was ever a
thing the matter with her heart. Or perhaps Snaith or Redfern or
whatever his name really is fed Purple Pills to her, back in that
Mistawis hut and cured her. It would make quite a testimonial for the
family ads, wouldn’t it?
“He’s such an insignificant-looking creature. I mentioned this to Doss
but all she said was, ‘I don’t like collar ad men.’
“Well, he’s certainly no collar ad man. Though I must say there is
something rather distinguished about him, now that he has cut his hair
and put on decent clothes. I really think, Cecil, you should exercise
more. It doesn’t do to get too fleshy.
“He also claims, I believe, to be John Foster. We can believe _that_ or
not, as we like, I suppose.
“Old Doc Redfern has given them two millions for a wedding-present.
Evidently the Purple Pills bring in the bacon. They’re going to spend