“Of course, that settled it. What need to tell of the terrible scene with my father — his grief and anger, and my protestations of innocence? I stood convicted by facts, delusive and stubborn.
“Now, when it was too late, I told of the visit paid me by Alma Sherman, being convinced that her brother was at the bottom of the plot against me. I was jeered at for my pains. They asked why I had not mentioned it before, and reminded me that I had declared that no one had been with me at the bank on the night of the robbery.
“I insisted that they search for William Sherman. His sister told them that he had returned to New York, and declared that my statement that she had called on me at the bank was false!
“My father paid the shortage, arranged that I should not be prosecuted, and then — disowned me and drove me from his house.”
As he said this Knowlton’s voice trembled for the first time. He hesitated, then conquered his emotion with a visible effort, and resumed:
“Well, there I was. For a time I stayed in Warton, determined to prove my innocence, or, if that were impossible, live down the accusation. But everyone was against me.
“By my youthful assumption of superiority I had made many enemies, unknown to myself, and they were implacable. It was unbearable, horrible! I stood it as long as I could, then came to New York embittered, cynical, and penniless.
“I had one or two friends here, but as soon as I told them of my troubles — and I concealed nothing — they promptly forgot me. Getting a position in my own line — in a bank — was of course out of the question. They require references. At the end of a week I was about ready to go down to the sea by way of the Hudson, when I accidentally met Red Tim.
“It doesn’t matter who Red Tim is. There are thousands of him. He is everywhere. We talked for an hour, and met again the following day. I was still well-dressed, and I had a fairly good appearance. At our third meeting he showed me a stack of counterfeit ten-dollar bills.
“You know the rest. I don’t want you to think it was all weakness. It was partly bitterness and partly despair, and I think I was even so far gone as to repeat, ‘I have the name, I’ll have the game.’ I think I was temporarily insane; no one can feel more horror at it now than I feel.
“When I met Sherman at the Lamartine I began to devise schemes for revenge and for clearing my name. But what could I do? I had no friends, nor evidence, nor much hope of getting either. Perhaps some day—
“I had been passing counterfeit money for a month when I met you. During the two months that followed my feelings were indescribable. Whenever I looked at you I felt unspeakable self-contempt. But I said bitterly that I wanted to get even with the world.
“Then — do you remember the first evening we dined together? And the play? Well, after that I despised myself indeed. I felt that I was not worthy to speak to you, to breathe the same air with you. But — you know — I could not stay away.
“For another month I wavered and hesitated, then got a position that was at least honorable, though you hardly seemed to think so. You didn’t know how happy I was in it, and how I worked to earn the right to ask you — to tell you my love! I... really, I am proud of it!
“One thing more, and I am done. I had met Red Tim once each month. That was my own arrangement — I didn’t care to see him oftener. Well, I saw him for the last time last night, and told him I was through.
“But there is still something.” He pointed to a package wrapped in brown paper lying on the trunk. “That is — I had that left. I should have destroyed it long ago. I am going to tonight.”
Lila gazed at the package curiously.
“Is it — how much is there?”
“About ten thousand dollars.”
She rose and walked over to him and laid her hand on his arm.
“Destroy it now — at once,” she said in a tone half frightened.
Knowlton objected:
“But there is no way. It is best to be safe, and I shall take it to the river. Never fear! But you have not told me what I want to know.”
Lila questioned him with her eyes, and he continued:
“I have told you my story. And now?”
At first Lila did not understand; then her eyes filled with light and she raised herself on tiptoe, placing her arms around his neck, and kissed him.
“I love you,” she said.
“Will you marry me?”
Her head was on his shoulder. She nodded.
“My darling Lila! I... really, I can’t believe it.”
“Pooh!” said she scornfully. “You have known it all the time.”
“No. I have hoped — and feared. But, ah, I could never have lived without you!”
“And yet” — Lila looked up at him quickly — “you were going away.”
Whereupon Knowlton protested that she was unkind, and she admitted it and begged his forgiveness with a kiss. There was a long silence. Finally Knowlton gave a deep sigh and spoke of the future.
He began by saying that he would go away somewhere — anywhere — and make a place and a home for Lila. She interrupted him at once:
“No, no! I will go with you. Why should you go alone? Will we not be stronger together? You think I will be in the way? You do not know me, then.”
He tried to argue with her, but she would not listen. He pleaded; there were hardships to be endured which he could not ask her to share; it would cost him his newly regained self-respect. He was crushed, he must have time to get on his feet, he was practically penniless.
Lila replied:
“I have saved a little — enough to last until — until you get—”
“Good Heaven!” he cried in utter humiliation. “And you think that I... no, you do not know me. Can’t you understand? Call it pride, if you will, and if you think I have a right to any. There are some things I must do myself. Do you think the confession I have just made has not been painful to me? If you only knew!”
Lila murmured:
“I do not want to hurt you, but I want to be happy, and if you leave me I shall not be.”
“Dearest, do I not know?” Knowlton forced himself to be more calm. “And without you every minute will seem a year to me. That is why I shall work all the harder and send for you as soon as I can. And then—”
“And then—” Lila repeated.
“And then I will be the happiest man in the world — happier far than I deserve. And as soon as I can get—”
At that moment a bell in the next room rang violently.
Lila glanced round, startled, and Knowlton turned with an expression of alarm, which speedily gave way to one of relief.
He reassured Lila:
“It is nothing. I ordered a cab to take me to the station.”
He ran to the front and looked out on the street below.
“Yes,” he said, returning, “it is the cab. It is in front. And that’s lucky, for it is dinnertime. Shall we go—”
He was interrupted by a loud knocking on the hall door a few feet away.
He thought it was the cabdriver, and wondered how he had gotten in the outer door below.
He called sharply:
“Who is it?”
There was no answer, but after an interval the knocking was repeated.
“Who is it?” he repeated angrily.
Another short pause, during which Knowlton fancied he heard whispering in the hall outside; then came the reply in a peremptory tone:
“Open in the name of the law!”
Chapter XII
The Long Night
Lila gave a gasp of terror and seized Knowlton’s arm convulsively, while the young man stood speechless with surprise and alarm.
What did he see in that one flash of horror and regret? He saw Lila accused, arrested, dishonored — and all for him. The thought petrified him; he was unable to move.
No care for himself or concern for his own danger could have moved him to anything save reckless courage or stoical acceptance; but it stunned his every sense to think that Lila would be caught in the net he had spread for himself.