The Witness, Grace Livingston Hill Lutz [the little red hen ebook .TXT] 📗
- Author: Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
Book online «The Witness, Grace Livingston Hill Lutz [the little red hen ebook .TXT] 📗». Author Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
Anything He Could Analyze. One Might Argue That There Was No Such Thing,
Science Might Prove There Was Not, But He _Knew_ It, Had _Seen_ It,
_Felt_ It! He Had The Witness In Himself. Was That What It Meant?
With Troubled Brow He Turned Over The Leaves Again:
If Any Man Will Do His Will, He Shall Know Of The Doctrine,
Whether It Be Of God.
Ah! There Was An Offer, Why Not Close With It?
He Dropped His Head On The Open Book With The Old Words Of
Self-Surrender:
"Lord, What Wilt Thou Have Me To Do?"
A Moment Later Pat Mccluny Opened The Door, Cautiously, Quietly; Then,
With A Nod To Tennelly Back Of Him, He Entered With Confidence.
Courtland Rose. His Face Was White, But There Was A Light Of Something
In His Eyes They Did Not Understand.
They Went Over To Him As If He Had Been A Child Who Had Been Lost And
Was Found On Some Perilous Height And Needing To Be Coaxed Gently Away
From It.
"Oh, So You're Here, Court," Said Tennelly, Slapping His Shoulder With
Gentle Roughness, "Great Little Old Room, Isn't It? The Fellows' Idea
To Keep Flowers Here. Kind Of A Continual Memorial."
"Great Fellow, That Steve!" Said Pat, Hoarsely. He Could Not Yet Speak
Lightly Of The Hero-Martyr Whom He Had Helped To Send To His Fiery
Grave.
But Courtland Stood Calmly, Almost As If He Had Not Heard Them. "Pat,
Nelly," He Said, Turning From One To The Other Gravely, "I Want To Tell
You Fellows That I Have Met Steve's Christ And After This I Stand For
Him!"
They Looked At Him Curiously, Pityingly. They Spoke With Soothing Words
And Humored Him. They Led Him Away To His Room And Left Him To Rest.
Then They Walked With Solemn Faces And Dejected Air Into Bill Ward's
Room And Threw Themselves Down Upon His Couch.
"Where's Court?" Bill Looked Up From The Theme He Was Writing.
"We Found Him In Steve's Room," Said Tennelly, Gloomily, And Shook His
Head.
"It's A Deuced Shame!" Burst Forth Pat. (He Had Cut Out Swearing For A
Time.) "He's Batty In The Bean!"
Tennelly Answered The Shocked Question In The Eyes Of Bill With A Nod.
"Yes, The Brightest Fellow In The Class, But He Sure Is Batty In The
Chapter 1 Pg 13Bean! You Ought To Have Heard Him Talk. Say! I Don't Believe It Was All
The Fire. Court's Been Studying Too Hard. He's Been An Awful Shark For A
Fellow That Went In For Athletics And Everything Else. He's Studied Too
Hard And It's Gone To His Head!"
Tennelly Sat Gloomily Staring Across The Room. It Was The Old Cry Of The
Man Who Cannot Understand.
"He Needs A Little Change," Said Bill, Putting His Feet Up On The Table
Comfortably And Lighting A Cigarette. "Pity The Frat. Dance Is Over. He
Needs To Get Him A Girl. Be A Great Stunt If He'd Fall For Some Jolly
Girl. Say! I'll Tell You What. I'll Get Gila After Him."
"Who's Gila?" Asked Tennelly, Gloomily. "He Won't Notice Her Any More
Than A Fly On The Wall. You Know How He Is About Girls."
"Gila's My Cousin. Gila Dare. She's A Good Sport, And She's A Winner
Every Time. We'll Put Gila On The Job. I've Got A Date With Her
To-Morrow Night And I'll Put Her Wise. She'll Just Enjoy That Kind Of
Thing. He's Met Her, Too, Over At The Navy Game. Leave It To Gila."
"What Style Is She?" Asked Tennelly, Still Skeptical.
"Oh, Tiny And Stylish And Striking, With Big Eyes. A Perfect Little
Peach Of An Actress."
"Court's Too Keen For Acting. He'll See Through Her In Half A Second.
She Can't Put One Over On Court."
"She Won't Try," Said The Ardent Cousin. "She'll Just Be As Innocent.
They'll Be Chums In Half An Hour, Or It'll Be The First Failure For
Gila."
"Well, If Any Girl Can Put One Over On Court, I'll Eat My Hat; But It's
Worth Trying, For If Court Keeps On Like This We'll All Be Buying
Prayer-Books And Singing Psalms Before Another Semester."
"You'll Eat Your Hat, All Right," Said Bill Ward, Rising In His Wrath.
"Nelly, My Infant, I Tell You Gila Never Fails. If She Gets On The Job
Court'll Be Dead In Love With Her Before The Midwinter Exams.!"
"I'll Believe It When I See It," Said Tennelly, Rising.
"All Right," Said Bill. "Remember You're In For A Banquet During
Vacation. Fricaseed Hat The _Piece De Resistance_!"
Chapter 2 Pg 14
It Was A Sumptuous Library In Which Gila Dare Awaited The Coming Of Paul
Courtland.
Great, Deep, Red-Leather Chairs Stood Everywhere Invitingly, The Floor
Was Spread With A Magnificent Specimen Of Royal Bokhara, The Rich
Recesses Of The Noble Walls Were Lined With Books In Rare Editions, A
Heavily Carved Table Of Dull Black Wood From Some Foreign Land Sprawled
In The Center Of The Room And Held A Great Bronze Lamp Of Curious
Pattern, Bearing A Ruby Light. Ornate Bronzes Lurked On Pedestals In
Shadows, Unexpectedly, And Caught The Eye Alarmingly, Like Grim Ones Set
To Watch. A Throbbing Fire Like The Heart Of A Lit Ruby Burned In A
Massive Fireplace Of Grotesque Tiles, As Though It Were The Opening Into
Great Depths Of Unquenchable Fire To Which This Room Might Be But An
Approach.
Gila Herself, Slight, Dark-Eyed, With Pearl-White Skin And Dusky Hair,
Was Dressed In Crimson Velvet, Soft And Clinging Like Chiffon, Catching
The Light And Shimmering It With Strange Effect. The Dark Hair Was
Curiously Arranged, And Stabbed Just Above Her Ears With Two Dagger-Like
Combs Flashing With Jewels. A Single Jewel Burned At Her Throat On An
Invisible Chain, And Jewels Flashed From The Little Pointed
Crimson-Satin Slippers, Setting Off The Slim Ankles In Their
Crimson-Silk Covering. The Whole Effect Was Startling. One Wondered Why
She Had Chosen So Elaborate A Costume To Waste Upon A Single College
Student.
She Stood With One Dainty Foot Poised On The Brass Trappings Of The
Hearth. In Her Short Skirts She Seemed Almost A Child; So Sweet The
Droop Of The Pretty Lips; So Innocent The Dark Eyes As They Looked Into
The Fire; So Soft The Shadows That Played In The Dark Hair! And Yet, As
She Turned To Listen For A Step In The Hall, There Was Something
Gleaming, Sinister, In Those Dark Eyes, Something Mocking In The Red
Lips. She Might Have Been A Daughter Of Satan As She Stood, The
Firelight Picking Out Those Jeweled Horns And Slippers.
"Leave Him To Me," She Had Said To Her Cousin When He Told Her How The
Brilliant Young Athlete And Intellectual Star Of The University Had Been
Stung By The Religious Bug. "Send Him To Me. I'll Take It Out Of Him And
He'll Never Know It's Gone."
Paul Courtland Entered, Unsuspecting. He Had Met Gila A Number Of Times
Before, At College Dances And The Games. He Was Not Exactly Flattered,
But Decidedly Pleased That She Had Sent For Him. Her Brightness And
Seeming Innocence Had Attracted Him Strongly.
Chapter 2 Pg 15The Contrast From The Hall With Its Blaze Of Electrics To The Lurid
Light Of The Library Affected Him Strangely. He Paused On The Threshold
And Passed His Hand Over His Eyes. Gila Stood Where The Ruby Light Of
Hearth And Lamp Would Set Her Vivid Dress On Fire And Light The Jewels
At Her Throat And Hair. She Knew Her Clear Skin, Dark Hair, And Eyes
Would Bear The Startling Contrast, And How Her White Shoulders Gleamed
From The Crimson Velvet. She Knew How To Arrange The Flaming Scarf Of
Gauze Deftly About Those White Shoulders So That It Would Reveal More
Than It Concealed.
The Young Man Lingered Unaccountably. He Had A Sense Of Leaving
Something Behind Him. Almost He Hesitated As She Came Forward To Greet
Him, And Looked Back As If To Rid Himself Of Some Obligation. Then She
Put Her Bits Of Confiding Hands Out To Him And Smiled That Wistful,
Engaging Smile That Would Have Been Worth A Fortune On The Screen.
He Thrilled With Wonder Over Her Delicate, Dazzling Beauty; And Felt The
Luxury Of The Room About Him, Responding To Its Lure.
"So Dandy Of You To Come To Me When You Are So Busy After Your Long
Illness." Her Voice Was Soft And Confiding, Its Cadences Like Soothing
Music. She Motioned Him To A Chair. "You See, I Wanted To Have You All
To Myself For A Little While, Just To Tell You How Perfectly Fine You
Were At That Awful Fire."
She Dropped Upon The Couch Drawn Out At Just The Right Angle From The
Fire And Settled Among The Cushions Gracefully. The Flicker Of The
Firelight Played Upon The Jeweled Combs And Gleamed At Her Throat. The
Little Pointed Slippers Cozily Crossed Looked Innocent Enough To Have
Been Meant For The Golden Street. Her Eyes Looked Up Into His With That
Confiding Lure That Thrills And Thrills Again.
Her Voice Dropped Softer, And She Turned Half Away And Gazed Pensively
Into The Fire On The Hearth. "I Wouldn't Let Them Talk To Me About It.
It Seemed So Awful. And You Were So Strong And Great."
"It Was Nothing!" He Did Not Want To Talk About The Fire. There Was
Something Incongruous, Almost Unholy, In Having It Discussed Here. It
Jangled On His Nerves. For There In Front Of Him In The Fireplace Burned
A Mimic Pit Like The One Into Which The Martyr Steve Had Fallen; And
There Before Him On The Couch Sat The Girl! What Was There So Familiar
About Her? Ah! Now He Knew. The Scarlet Woman! Her Gown Was An Exact
Reproduction Of The One The Great Actress Had Worn On The Stage That
Night. He Was Conscious Of Wishing To Sit Beside Her On That Couch And
Revel In The Ravishing Color Of Her. What Was There About This Room
That Made All His Pulses Beat?
Playfully, Skilfully, She Led Him On. They Talked Of The Dances And
Games, Little
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