WAS HE JUSTIFIED?

Otago Witness, Issue 3913, 12 March 1929, Page 81

WAS HE JUSTIFIED?

By

Frank R. Ayres.

(Copyright.—For the Otago Witness.) Margaret Pathway, attired in the lightest of light wraps, paced restlessly up and down her daintily furnished boudoir. Outside, the setting African sun still flung stray hot rays through the closely shut blinds. Her pretty forehead was deeply furrowed as she inwardly wrestled with a problem that rightly she should have flung out of her mind as something abhorrent—unthinkable. Little more than a year before, Margaret, the eldest of three sisters, had tennised, golfed, and flirted with all the joyous abandon of the average healthy English girl. Then had come Gerald Pathway, a doctor in the Soudanese Civil Service. His social position was certainly good and his prospects better. Mrs Earl hoped her daughter would be sensible. Margaret was 23, expenses were. Increasing and income stationary, also her sisters would soon be competing against her in the marriage market. Pathway might be forty, but his future was assured, and if not exactly handsome, he was quite presentable. Rathway duly proposed, but made no secret of the kind of life she would be marrying into. “ Of course, darling,” he told her, “ I am a busy man. You will find it very lonely at times. I shall often be away for days together. You’ll find the other women in the colony prepared to give you a generous welcome. Keep a tight curb on your tongue, be nice to all. You’ll soon classify the cats from—the others.

At first this new world Margaret had suddenly stepped into both amused and bewildered her. Tennis, golf, midnight picnics on the river and in the desert,

gave her plenty to think about and occupy her time. Perhaps, best of all, she loved her early morning gallops on the beautiful horse Gerald had given her.

It was during the first scorching, nerveracking summer, that the inevitable reaction set in. Gerald was often from home three and four days together. Time dragged slowly. She had not meant to fall in love with Powers, the handsome private secretary to the governor. Powers was nearly thirty, only an ailing brother stood between him and a baronetcy He was certainly a big fish in the making. Margaret discovered that, although she was tolerated by the other women, they did not consider her as belonging to their set.

“ uh, yes, the doctor’s wife. Pleased to meet you, Mrs Rath way.” To Margaret, they seemed to say : •' Of course, doctors are useful at times—”

Tom Powers, the spoilt darling of all, had been particularly attentive to Margaret. At first, she had not reasoned why he should continually be popping up. Slowly the fact dawned upon her that he was deliberately following her about. Flattered, and to pique the cats, Margaret had drifted until she was suddenly shocked into the knowledge that she was violently in love with him. Vainly she steeled herself against the thought; it was wicked —dishonourable —she was irrevocably tied to a man who she had once imagined herself in love with. She wished Gerald was a little less trusting—a little less solicitous of her comfort. She wondered if Powers guessed her secret ; she was certain he loved her. Why had she allowed him to invite himself to tea that afternoon?

He had suggested 5 o’clock. A servant, silent and mysterious, was setting out a small wicker table with dainty china cups. A few moments later Powers, cool and debonair as ever, that odd, caressing look in his laughing eyes, stood before her.

Hurriedly, Margaret vanished to return attired in 'her newest and prettiest tea gown. “ I say, Mrs Pathway, you look adorable,” he exclaimed, seating himself beside her. “ A rose in the desert! “You mustn’t say such things to me,” she whispered, blushing. “ I thought every woman liked to be told she was beautiful,” bandied Powers, gently taking one of her hands and raising it to his lips. “Don’t, please,” she replied, half nervusly drawing away from him. “ 1 ought not to have let you come while Gerald was away.” Somehow, she didn’t quite know how, but with a quick movement Powers threw his arms around her thinly-clad waist, taking her in a fierce embrace. His hot lips choked back her frightened, inarticulate protests, “ Darling,” he breathed, passionately covering her face and hair with kisses that seared her mind, “ I love you more than anything on earth. You are mine, body and soul.” Waking to realities, she made one last despairing, fruitless effort to release herself.

“ We—you mustn’t.” she cried wildly. “ My—husband.” “Your husband is miles away,” he laughed triumphantly. “We love each other—what else matters? ” Laughing softly, he suddenly released her.

That afternoon was the prelude to others. Margaret was now hopelessly infatuated with Powers.

Dreamily, she wondered how much Unger she could endure the torture of living with her husband. Since their arrival at the station they had occupied different rooms. Gerald had insisted on this, owing to the frequency of his night calls.

True again, he would come to her room and kiss her good-night, but somehow that custom had unconsciously been dropped.' Slowly the conviction grew in her heart that Gerald sensed something. His kisses lacked the dogfiike affection of old. As fjr Margaret, hers had invariably con--’sted of a wifely peck, grudgingly given. One afternoon, the door of her boudoir was gently tried. Apprehensively she watched the knob turn —a crack —then silence. “ Don’t worry, darling,” soothed Powers. “ Gerald is far away. The dis trict commissioner at Yama is down with a bad attack of dysentery. He’ll not be back for several days.” The next morning Margaret was surprised to meet her husband at lunch. The servants had not deemed it necessary to inform her that the doctor had returned home late the previous night. In reply to her halting inquiries he vouchsafed the information that Rawson had died before he reached Yama. Under the circumstances his services were useless, so he had returned immediately. “ By the way, could you spare me a few minutes in the study? ” he asked. “ You will remember I warned you before you came out here to be careful of your < jnduct. People are coupling your name with Powers.”

So it had come! He knew something—how much?

His cold, inscrutable eyes searched her crimson face. Abruptly he left the table and disappeared into his room. Hastily swallowing her coffee, she followed her husband ; he was seated at his desk writing out a report. “ What precisely do you mean? ” she demanded stormily, seeking refuge in vulgar passion. “ Calm yourself, Margaret! Perhaps I know more than you think. I refused to believe idle gossip until I had proof thrust upon me yesterday afternoon.” “ So it was you who tried the door of my room? ”

“ Yes. I knew you were not expecting me, and thinking you might be taking your siesta, 1 changed my mind and refrained from disturbing you. Then I heard whispering voices, and the tales concerning you and Powers—l admit I was fool enough to be jealous. I watched from a distance, and saw him leave your room by the veranda door.” He spoke dispassionately. His cold tones,, the hard glint in his eyes made Margaret shudder. “ Supposing—only supposing—l admit Tom and I love each other. Would you allow mo to divorce you?” she asked tremulously. “ You silly little fool! Do you imagine for one moment he would marry you? He has just been amusing himself with a pretty face, and a little flattery and romantic love-making soon effected a conquest. I suppose he persuaded you you were being neglected? -” “How dare you!” she cried passionately. “I don’t hold myself cheap—if you do.”

Gerald smiled cynically. “It is not I 'io hold you cheap. But I expect Powers does. Heroics will not help you, Margaret. Let us try to keep our tempers and discuss this—this domestic infelicity calmly.” I emphatically deny I have been unfaithful,” she gasped, blanching. “Oh, do you? I rather think that you have! ” “Very good! As you are so easily persuadtd to believe the worst, will you give me my freedom?” “ That depends.” “ Depends ? ” “Go to Powers this afternoon. Ask him if he will marry you. If he agrees, I will—willingly.” “If you were a man you’d fight to keep me! ” she retorted, hysterically. “ Seeing I have already lost you, halfkilling Powers wouldn’t make you love me one jot more, or—or —bring back—” “Yes, say it—say what you mean! I have perhaps been foolish, but—more.” °

“ Since you put words into my mouth, I’ll finish by saying I have no desire to share my wife with another man.”

“ I never really loved you! ” she flung back defiantly. “ Our marriage was an unfortunate mistake.”

“Good! We at least understand one another,” her husband answered, regarding her sullenly. “Go to Powers! ” He strode swiftly from the room.

Hastily donning her most becoming riding habit, she ordered her horse, and rode over to the Residencv.

Powers was standing outside his office when she arrived. He drew her in, closing the door, and they were in each other’s arms. His greeting lacked the usual all-embracing warmth. He was no fool, people were already talking. “ You shouldn’t have come here, darling,” he chided gently. “ I could have met you at Antonio’s.” “You do love me, you do?” He laughed as a man in love does laugh, a little breathlessly, and yet so contentedly. ' “ I do. I swear I do! ”

“ Yes, but really—wholly, with every nerve of you, every thought, every feeling, as I do you ”

Her passion lit an answering flame in him; he caught her close and closer yet, kissing he- stormily, wildly. “My God! I do—and you know it.”

She laughed a little delightful laugh. “ Yes I know it, but for certain reasons soon to be explained, I had to hear you say it again—it means so much to me. Oh, Tom, my darling—soon we need never part again. Gerald knows everything.” With dawning horror she felt his passion slowly dying out, and she drew slightly away from him, so that her breath gently fanned his cheek. “ I am sorry I came here, dear,” she whispered agitatedly. “ I simply couldn't wait. I was dying to tell you the glad news—Gerald will free me! ”

“ This is serious,” replied Powers, whitening under his tan, nervously licking his lips. “ How could he—unless you told him ? ” “ I—l didn’t exactly tell him—he found out. You know someone tried the door yesterday afternoon?—it was Gerald! And we deluded ourselves it was one of the servants,” she laughed happily, sure of the great love that was hers. “He actually hid himself and saw you leave the house.” “ Even so,” stammered Powers. “ There is nothing m'uclj in that. I was simply taking tea with you.”

“He would never believe the truth. Tom, you know I love you. You have sworn many times I am the only woman in the world for you. Gerald says he will allow me to divorce him if you give your written promise to marry me—as if that was necessary.” Powers gently released her arm from around his neck, and thoughtfully’ seated himself at his desk.

“ Lord, Margaret,” he groaned, “ what an awful mess we have got ourselves into.” “ I—don’t understand,” she panted, deathly white. “ Isn’t it just what we —you wanted ? ” “Gracious, girlie, no! I may have

told you I loved you—many times—l do

—but I didn’t mean it that way. We have had some good times together, but—marriage with you is an utter impossibility. I—l—l’m already engaged to a distant cousin. I have nothing beyond my allowance and official salary.” “ But your family ? ” murmured Margaret, hardly understanding. “ My family would promptly wash their hands of me,” groaned Powers with a sickly grin. “I was given to understand this post was my last chance of making good. My brother may yet go to my funeral. Creaking gates—-you know.”

“ But why—why did you make love to me—why did you make me—love you in return —if you didn’t really want me ? ” asked Margaret, with horrified eyes. “ Oh, well, if you take that line—why do most men run after pretty faces? ” replied Powers brutally. “ I suppose you will admit you gave me some encouragement.” Margaret broke into hysterical weeping.

“ Please control yourself,” begged Powers desperately. “ Someone might hear you. You’ll just have to eat humble pie and ask Gerald to forgive you. I’ll write him the most abject apology his heart could desire.” “ You don’t know Gerald,” wailed Margaret. “ I’m afraid of him —afraid of what he intends to do. That cold, calculating glint in his eyes terrifies me.”

“ I’m awfully sorry, old girl, but—l couldn’t even afford you a decent allowance.”

A smouldering fire gradually flamed to life in Margaret’s eyes. “Dp you know, I think you are a low-doWn cad! ” she almost spat bitterly. “ If I did prove an easy victim —your conduct is contemptible. I haven’t asked yo.u for money. Oh,” she cried wildly, “ God help me—l thought you were a man! You were only amusing yourself!” Blindly she stumbled towards the door. “ For heaven’s sake, Margaret, calm yourself. Call me what you like—but listen to reason.” Powers was terrified lest anyone should see her leave his room in her present agitated condition. She forced her way past him into the corridor.

“ You needn’t fear,” she said proudly. “ I shall certainly not trouble you again.”

Gerald was seated in a deck chair on the veranda when Margaret returned. In no mood for a battle of words with her husband, she hurried to her room. The bottom had been knocked out of her world. But what could she do? Return home ? Out of the question—even if Gerald wished to send her. Agitatedlj’ she paced up and down. What an awful wreck she had made of her life. She knew now she hadn’t meant half she had said to Gerald in her temper. She liked him well enough, but, somehow, he had failed- her in some unexplainable manner. Yes, that was it—Gerald had not taken her by storm. Never had he played the part of passionate lover. She had been cheated out of her birthright. He was partly to blame—he had not tried to hold her. Perhaps she had allowed herself to be carried away too easily- by Powers’s laughing eyes and plausible tongue—but Gerald should not have left her alone so often.

Rathway sat moodily thinking. He asked himself in what way he had failed to gain his wife’s love. He was not in any sense of the word an old man. He came to the conclusion it was his personal appearance that was at fault. Powers was a cad to take advantage of Margaret’s inexperienced youth when he. had no intention of marrying her. He wondered if it was too late—if things had gone too far.

Powers returned to his desk after Margaret’s departure.’ Work was out of the question. He cursed himself for a fool. Pretty faces had always irresistibly attracted him; this time he had undoubtedly singed his wings. Dumbly, he wondered if old Rathway would be satisfied with his written apology. He had no business with such a fascinating wife. If he was packed off home again his people would stop his allowance and cut him altogether. They had paid dearly more than once for his Don Juan escapades.

Curiously he watched the doer gentlj’ open and Pathway walk slowly yet deliberately towards him. What was wrong with his heart? Of late, the least excitement or fear set it pounding wildly within his breast. Silently his visitor removed his helmet, and pulling a chair towards him threw himself into it, staring fixedly at Powers’s ghastly white features. “ Well, do I congratulate you on your forthcoming marriage with my wife?” asked Rathway, suddenly breaking the tension.

With an effort Powers partly recovered his composure. “ Sorry I cannot oblige. Rathway,” he sneered. “ I have told Margaret marriage between us is out of the question. I am prepared to give you a full and ample written apology for the wrong I may have done you.” “Indeed! How magnanimous of you! “ As I am not in my wife’s confidence, do you mind explaining the reason to me ? ”

“ Rather embarrassing for you, I admit,” remarked Pathway drily, after Powers had volubly reiterated his inability to come up to scratch. “ Pity you didn’t reason all this out before you made love to my wife. I shall certainly seek a divorce.”

“ What good would that do ? ” asked Powers impudently. “ I should still refuse to marry her.” “I see,” nodded Rathway absently. “ You’ll • resign your post here, of course?” . - •

“ I don’t see why I should.” “ And if I force you ? ” “ I shall make the whole business public.” “Why?” “ Call it revenge, if you like,” Powers answered sullenly. “ It appears to me that I'm the only one who’s in the wrong,” mused Rathway. “Anyhow, what species of worm are you classified with ? ”

“ You are welcome to slang me to your heart’s content,” returned Powers complacently. “ I have pleaded guilty ” “Appointed yourself judge and pronounced your own sentence—very nice. I have said all I intend to at present. I shall expect you to-morrow afternoon precisely at four.”

“ I don’t see why—eh—what is your idea?” protested Pow’ers, startled out of his smugness. “ I might meet your wife.”

. “ That, exactly, is what I intend. We’ll discuss this domestic inix-up between the three of us. Surely Margaret is. entitled to air her views. I promise no physical violence will be offered you.” “ Sorry I cannot oblige, Rathway.” “You will! If I have to drag you by the collar,” barked Rathway, as he fixed his cold, unfathomable stare on Powers’s shifting eyes. Powers shivered; his weak will capitulating to Pathway’s inflexible determination.

“ Oh, well, if you put it like that, I suppose I shall have to comply.” “ Good! At four then. Doubtless, I shall have discovered a solution to this three-cornered problem by then.” The following afternoon Powers arrived at the bungalow prompt to time. He found Pathway seated under the shady side of the verandah. Directly his visitor appeared he clapped for a bov.

“ Tell the ‘ sit ’ I would like to speak with her,” he ordered. “And then bring tea.” Margaret, white of face, a tired, weary look in her strained eyes, appeared a few minutes later. She had not met her husband since their interview of the previous dav.

On seeing Powers she uttered a little cry of protest. “How dare you come here?” she exclaimed angrily. “ Have I not been insulted enmigh ? ” “ Ask your husband,” Powers drawled languidly. . “Just a fancy of mine, Margaret,” explained Rathway, offering her a chair. “I guess you have a right to hear what I am going to say.” He clapped again, and the boy arrived with three cups of tea. “ No, sit down, Margaret,” he ordered, as she started to her feet. “ Abdulla will serve tea without your help. He has his orders.” He turned to Powers. “ Well,” he asked, “ have you changed from your impossible attitude of yesterday ? ” ‘ “ I have not —I cannot, and that is final.” - . . . Pathway turned to his wife. “You hear?” Powers rose to go. “Stop!” commanded Rathway. “You will take tea with us before you leave ? ” Their visitor swung sharply round, a puzzled expression on his face. “ Thanks, no,” he answered uneasily. Rathw’ay inserted his right hand in his coat pocket. “ I have a revolver in here,” he announced clearly. “ I am covering- you, Powers, and you know I am reckoned a dead shot. You will drink with us because I order you to —or —I shall shoot to kill! One of those cups contains poison. Whoever drinks it will die a painless death within four hours, as far as I can judge. You shall have first choice.” .

“ I refuse to murder myself at your bidding—you devil!” snarled Powers, clenching his hands spasmodically. With his left hand Rathway laid his watch on the table.

“ I give you three minutes before I shoot,” he announced, and there was a deadly earnestness in his voice that told Powers fencing was finished. “ I may be a devil —which, in my estimation, is a superior title to yours of maggot!” Powers staggered towards Margaret and fell on his knees, wildly clutching at her skirts.

“ For God’s sake, Margaret, don’t let him murder'me!” he mouthed frantically. “ I’ll do anything you ask.” Margaret shrank back, a look of loathing on her face. “Drink —you cur!” “ I pray God I may be ■ the one to die,” cried Margaret, darting forward and eagerly snatching one of the - cups, she hastily swallowed the contents. “Sorry to disappoint you, but somehow I don’t think you will,” replied her husband, coolly draining the second cup as he tauntingly offered the remaining one to Powers. “My conscience tells me that our gallant Lothario will be the one to pay the debt he has incurred.” “A trick!” shrieked Powers, swaying drunkenly to his feet, and turning blue about the lips. “ I knew it —you intended to murder me!”

Groaning, he staggered a few paces, then fell forward a pitiful, huddled heap. Rathway picked him up and carried him into the house.

“ He’s gone,” he said to Margaret, who had followed.

‘ Gerald, how could you ? ” she cried brokenly. “You must be mad!” “Mad? No. See, I will drink the third cup! There was no poison in any

(6f them. His own guilty conscience killed him. His heart was crocked. I think, dear, we shall have to start our married life over again.” A new hope dawned in Margaret’s weary eyes. Sobbing, she turned and ran from the room. One thing that troubled, Rathway in utter years was—should he have told his wife that Powers’s death from fright was almost a foregone conclusion.