A DRAMATIC SCENE

New Zealand Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 11251, 1 July 1922, Page 12

A DRAMATIC SCENE

“ I’M COIMG TO KILL YOU !" AN EPISODE FROM A NEW NOVEL.

BY

G. VERE TYLER.

Tile following is taken from the new novel of “Virginia” (“First Novel” Library);— In looking back, Chesil marvelled that be maintained in the face of the surprise his complete composure. “You were expecting me?” he asked. “Yes. I heard you got in on the eight-ten last night. I've been expecting you ever since. When the gate opened I knew you had come.” “Will you come outside?” “No. You will come inside.” Chesil stared at him “We’ve got to fight this thing out, George Lindsay!” “Of course we have, Ches. Dangerfield; but before we do Fm going to have my say! Mother sleeps in the wing. She won’t hear us. Come in. Now sit down at the table and put your pistol at your right hand. I’ll put mine at my right hand. If you can get a plug at mo before I am ready for you to have a try at me, do it!” When they were seated as -George had indicated, a momentary silence fell, during which Chesil found that liis eyea were wandering about the small twowindowed, low-ceilinged room. It was not the first time he had seen this little room. He had darted througn it once when a child and George had gotten possession of something that belonged to him. Ho had felt the loneliness of it then, as well as a terible awe of this little “parlour” to -which, no visitors ever came. It had affected him then; it overpowered him now. The nv ter barrenness of such an environment gripped him. He seemed to feel the years of solitude and isolation that had been spent by the man opposite him and the prematurely white-haired woman sleeping in the “wing.” It ’was aB though her sole occupation had been to grow old while her son went on developing from boy to man. And now this being that she had brought forth, that had had no significance, this thing that was just a part of the scene, had risen up in vengeance and struck a deadly blow. What was the meaning of it?

Facts seemed to drift from Chesil as he simply sat there in the power of George Lindsay—in liis .power as completely as though an oak in the forest had suddenly fallen upon him and pinioned him to the earth.

His eyes finally rested upon George, whose own had never left his face. He might, have been some golden-haired Viking fresh from conquest, unabashed, undisturbed even, not a shadow of shame or regret revealed upon his countenance. His purple eyes glowed almost black, the grey cotton shirt he wore was unbuttoned as usual at tbe neck, and the tanned throat had the strength and gleam of a yellow marble column. Chesil, noting these things, felt subdued by a peculiar fascination that robbed the present circumstance of reality. He half wondered what he was here, and felt dominated by some overshadowing sense of helplessness, as though nothing was of any use and be should iust take up his pistol and walk out. Then the 6ame weariness that had overcome him in the open field returned, the same nausea, but he recovered himself and put his question to George. “Well?” he asked, as their eyeg met and locked.

''What have you. got to sayP” “A good deal. Twenty-eight years ago, the day I came into the world, this whole country set out to murder my mother.” He SEDoke in a low, distant drawl, every word of which sounded in Chesil’s ears like pistol shots. “It was just the same as murder; no—it was worse: you condemned her to a living death! You know that, Ches. Dangerfield ! Every last one of you. had a hand in it—a shot at her. She’s been a prisoner in this house, afraid even to snow her face at her own windows. Every time she was ever ©tandtng by one end heard wheels she dropped back. If she was in the yard arid heard 'em, or a horse's hoofs on the road, she went in quick and shut the door. The only thing she ever did for herself was to ask permission to go to church Sundays, last of all to sit in the gallery with the niggers, and pray to God in (presence of others to be cleansed df sin, and that was refused her! They put it up to vote and voted her out. I remember that day! Three of those votes went out from youT house. Your family helped to put the red-hot- iron in. Your folks helped to make her believe she wae smeared all over with sin. Sin! You hellhounds around here are the sinners! She isn’t a sinner! Slio fell in love with a damn face like yours and God took the strength out of her. “If you wanted to hurl curses, why didn't you curse your uncle—not her — about it? You know she’© never had an evil thought or spoken ah evil word of any living soul on this earth. The only complaint I ever heard pass her lips was —not about the church refusing her admittance, maybe that was right, she ©aid—but that she couldn't go to the people in trouble, to the sick and grieving ones, and try to help.'* He paused, and Chesil stared at him bewildered, like a man who feels that he is losing consciousness and yet fights to hold on to his vision. Then Ruby flashed before him, and his eyes shot a sudden gleam and rested upon his pistol. “Don't be impatient about that,” said George, noting the glance with half a smile. “I’ll let you have it at the right time.”

There was another pause—an awkward pause. George had raised himself slightly above the table and wae leading over, gazing into Chesil’e pale, set face. “You Dangerfields,” Chesil finally heard him saying, “have been holding your head© up for no good ae I can see for several generations around here. Maybe God Almighty got tired of it and appointed me to drag ’em down! I’ve been doing some studying at some old books I found in the attic here, and I’ve found out that as soon as things got too almighty high on this earth the Lord steps in ana topples ’em over. He toppled you over when you had to put upyour Jaw books and take to insurance. Maybe what He’s got men like me in His plan for is to show such as you nil that you ain’t God Almighty yourselves. I've been feeling for a good many years He was calling on me for something. I want you to know what I did was done out of pure hate! The one I picked didn’t count. I chose her because she was a shining light in the community and had held her head a little higher than the reri. I used her to square up with the dead and the living ! I'm even,” George’s eyes shot out a flash of fire, “with you—you first of all, ’bout lying to your dead pa ’bout you and me playing and going fishing together, and I’m even, with him for whipping you for it when he found it out! I’ve mixed my blood) With yours, and to hell, Ches. Dangerfield, with you and every damn one of you!” With the curse hurled at him the blood sprang to Chesil’s pale face and he leaped to his feet. But George was on his with his pistol upon him. “Sit down,” he said; “I’ve not done with you yet. Sit down!” he repeated, forcing him to lub seat with the point ol his pistol. “As I said,” he went on as he dropped into his own chair, “to hell with the last ond of you! I tell you now, ever since the day you played tho traitor to me and I got that whip aortas my check I felt something planning in me—not that I knew what it was—to get even with you, with all of you. and to avenge my mother. One day it occurred to me about your sister,. Ruby, and/' he bent over with a leering sneer, “I had the Dangerfield looks to help M.G !*' Both men rose. ''Are you through?” asked Chesil, now calm as the statue he looked. “I'm through!” said George. “AU right, then; I’m going to kill you!” “That/ 7 fUfihfidUCLcars** ju&t rchat

[ want you to do. But let me tell youi right here: You won’t do it! You haven’t got the nerve! You haven't got the nerve to put your home on the level with mine. Kill me, and you'll have to tell why vou did it. You’ll have to toll that your sinter. Ruby, foil to me the earn© as my mother fell to your uncle. Hal, nearly thirty years ago. Kill me and you'll be playing out my hand for me. It's just what I want you to do!” He laid his own pint pi on the table. “Go ahead and shoot!” “Damn your soul to the bottome«t depth of perdition/’ Chesil exclaimed; 'T will!” At (hi* moment a narrow door separating the two rooms opened eoftly, and George’s mother, in a grey die;«• ng-gown. Hopped timidly into the room. At sight of her Ohoril pocketed his pistol and George turned sharply. “Mother/* lie Baid. “Ches. Dangerfield'© home, and he came to make me a visit!''