CHAPTER XXVSWIFT DECLARES HIS PASSION.
“Oh, I’ll bring you down off your high horse, confound you!” muttered Roy Swift, as he followed Walter Burrage from that room. “If your sister does not lower her high head in short order, I’ll make her do it—or land you behind bars!”
Leaving the hotel, he made his way straight toward the house of Alvin Brander, on the outskirts of the village. There was a brass knocker on the door of the old-fashioned house, and Swift pounded it vigorously. A servant appeared, and Swift pushed right into the hall, saying:
“Tell Miss Burrage that a friend wishes to see her.”
“Will you give me your name?”
“Frank Merriwell.”
He was shown into the stiff old parlor, with its haircloth furniture, picture-album, case of wax flowers, and chromos on the walls. There he seated himself comfortably and waited.
He was not compelled to wait long. On the stair there was a flying footfall and Inza appeared, her face showing her pleasure, while she exclaimed:
“Oh, Frank, I’m so glad you————”
Then, as he rose, she stopped short and stared at him, a look of surprise and consternation on her handsome face.
“Mr. Swift!” she cried, in disappointment.
“Yes,” he laughed. “Quite a joke on you, wasn’t it? Ha, ha, ha!”
She drew herself up proudly, her eyes flashing.
“A joke, sir?”
“Why, yes; you thought you were coming down to see Merriwell. Ha, ha! That was a joke!”
“I must say you have very peculiar ideas of a joke! You gave a false name.”
“Perhaps the servant misunderstood me.”
“No; you gave your name as Frank Merriwell. You knew I was engaged caring for my father, and might not find time to come down. It was a trick!”
“But you could find time to come down for Merriwell?”
“He is a friend—he saved my life and the life of my father yesterday.”
“Which any one else might have done in his place.”
“What did you do?”
“Unfortunately, I was separated from you by the accident, and I could not find you.”
“What did you do when you knew my father was back there in that burning wreckage—when I appealed to somebody to save him?”
“I did not know where to find him.”
“Nor did Mr. Merriwell.”
“I think he did know, else he would not have succeeded so finely.”
“He did not!”
“He has told you that to make the act seem all the braver and grander in your eyes. He knows how to play his cards.”
Her lips curled.
“I’ll not listen to such talk about him! I must return to my father.”
“Wait!”
“I cannot stop, sir. You must excuse me.”
She was going.
“Miss Burrage, your brother is in great peril.”
That stopped her.
“Walter!” she exclaimed. “He is in danger?”
“Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I say.”
Now she came back a few steps, and he was satisfied.
“What is the danger?” she haltingly asked.
“The danger is that he will be arrested. You know for what. And in case he is arrested he will be tried and condemned. A term of ten or twenty years must follow.”
She had straightened up to hear these words. For a moment she did not speak, and then, in a tone that indicated an effort to self-control, she asked:
“Has he been recognized here in Fardale?”
“Not yet; but one word from any one who knows him will set the law on his track.”
“From any one who knows him? Who is there who would betray him? Is it possible you mean that you——”
He stepped toward her quickly.
“I mean, Miss Burrage, that I love you!” he declared boldly. “Wait—you must listen! Understanding your brother’s peril, you will not refuse to listen!”
She put up a hand to check his advance.
“Mr. Swift,” she panted, “is it possible you are threatening me?”
“Not that! But I am desperately in love with you, Inza, and I was determined to find a way to make you listen to me.”
“Brave man!”
Her words and her look cut him deeply, but he would not be checked.
“I have loved you all the years since I left Fardale. In all my wanderings I have never found another like you, Inza!”
“Call me Miss Burrage, if you please, sir!”
“You can’t hold me in check that way! You do not know Roy Swift, else you would not try. I have seen you again, and I find you far handsomer than you were in the old days. My heart is torn with love, and I have sworn that you shall be mine!”
He was shaking with the intensity of his feelings. In his bronzed cheeks there was a wild flush, while his eyes gleamed with a burning light. Inza was alarmed, but she did not show it.
“You had better withdraw your oath,” she calmly said; “for I shall never be yours. You have fancied something that is quite impossible.”
“You must—you shall!” he cried. “I will not give you up to Frank Merriwell! He shall not have you! Inza, when my grandfather dies I shall be a rich man. I did not have to enter the army. I did that of my own accord. I shall be able to give you anything you want if you will marry me.”
“Mr. Swift, I would not marry you if you had all the wealth of Rockefeller!”
“I swear you shall never marry him! I am desperate, Inza! Think of your brother! With a word, I can send him to prison!”
“And prove yourself a dastard!”
“A man in love will do anything to win the object of his passions. If you would save your brother, you must marry me!”
“You coward!”
She took a step toward him, her hands clenched, and hissed the words through her white teeth. He actually fell back a step before her intense scorn and contempt.
“Then you are willing to see him branded as a criminal—willing to see him suffer? His arrest will be the death-blow of your old father! Think of that! Are you not willing to sacrifice yourself to save both your brother and your father? Have you not that much love for them?”
“You coward!” she repeated, withering scorn in her dark eyes. “If my brother were here now——”
“But he is not! Nor is Frank Merriwell here! You do not know the passion you have awakened in the heart of Roy Swift! If Merriwell were out of the way———— By Heaven! he may be out of the way!”
“Would you——”
“Let him keep away from me! I go armed, and I will not hold myself responsible! If Merriwell were here now——”
“He is!”
Frank himself strode into the room. He had come to the house with young Jim Brander, who had let him in without ringing. In the hall Merry had heard what was passing in the parlor, and there was a terrible look on his face as he strode toward the soldier.
Swift leaped backward, his right hand jerking out a pistol. With a spring, Frank was on him, grasped his wrist and wrenched the weapon from his hand.
“I think you have been drinking this morning, sir,” he cried grimly, as he held the other helpless and turned toward the door. “Jim, fling open the front door.”
Jim Brander, who had been peering into the room, hastened to obey. Merry quickly carried the resisting fellow from the parlor, saying as he did so:
“You have made some very nasty threats, Swift, but you had better think twice before you attempt to carry any of them out. And if you annoy Miss Burrage again, I’ll thrash you till you’ll need a doctor for a week.”
Then, having reached the front door, he proceeded to kick Roy Swift down the steps.