第33章 XIII MR. QUIGG DRAWS A PLAN(1)

McGaw had watched the fire from his upper window with mingled joy and fear--joy that Tom's property was on fire, and fear that it would be put out before she would be ruined. He had been waiting all the evening for Crimmins, who had failed to arrive. Billy had not been at home since supper, so he could get no details as to the amount of the damage from that source. In this emergency he sent next morning for Quigg to make a reconnaissance in the vicinity of the enemy's camp, ascertain how badly Tom had been crippled, and learn whether her loss would prevent her signing the contract the following night. Mr. Quigg accepted the mission, the more willingly because he wanted to settle certain affairs of his own. Jennie had avoided him lately,--why he could not tell,--and he determined, before communicating to his employer the results of his inquiries about Tom, to know exactly what his own chances were with the girl. He could slip over to the house while Tom was in the city, and leave before she returned.

On his way, the next day, he robbed a garden fence of a mass of lilacs, breaking off the leaves as he walked. When he reached the door of the big stable he stopped for a moment, glanced cautiously in to see if he could find any preparations for the new work, and then, making a mental note of the surroundings, followed the path to the porch.

Pop opened the door. He knew Quigg only by sight--an unpleasant sight, he thought, as he looked into his hesitating, wavering eyes.

"It's a bad fire ye had, Mr. Mullins," said Quigg, seating himself in the rocker, the blossoms half strangled in his grasp.

"Yis, purty bad, but small loss, thank God," said Pop quietly.

"That lets her out of the contract, don't it?" said Quigg.

"She'll be short of horses now."

Pop made no answer. He did not intend to give Mr. Quigg any information that might comfort him.

"Were ye insured?" asked Quigg, in a cautious tone, his eyes on the lilacs.

"Oh, yis, ivery pinny on what was burned, so Mary tells me."

Quigg caught his breath; the rumor in the village was the other way. Why didn't Crimmins make a clean sweep of it and burn 'em all at once, he said to himself.

"I brought some flowers over for Miss Jennie," said Quigg, regaining his composure. "Is she in?"

"Yis; I'll call her." Gentle and apparently harmless as Gran'pop was, men like Quigg somehow never looked him steadily in the eye.

"I was tellin' Mr. Mullins I brought ye over some flowers," said Quigg, turning to Jennie as she entered, and handing her the bunch without leaving his seat, as if it had been a pair of shoes.

"You're very kind, Mr. Quigg," said the girl, laying them on the table, and still standing.

"I hear'd your brother Patsy was near smothered till Dutchy got him out. Was ye there?"

Jennie bit her lip and her heart quickened. Carl's sobriquet in the village, coming from such lips, sent the hot blood to her cheeks.

"Yes, Mr. Nilsson saved his life," she answered slowly, with girlish dignity, a backward rush filling her heart as she remembered Carl staggering out of the burning stable, Patsy held close to his breast.

"The fellers in Rockville say ye think it was set afire. I see Justice Rowan turned Billy McGaw loose. Do ye suspect anybody else? Some says a tramp crawled in and upset his pipe."

This lie was coined on the spot and issued immediately to see if it would pass.

"Mother says she knows who did it, and it'll all come out in time.

Cully found the can this morning," said Jennie, leaning against the table.

Quigg's jaw fell and his brow knit as Jennie spoke. That was just like the fool, he said to himself. Why didn't he get the stuff in a bottle and then break it?

But the subject was too dangerous to linger over, so he began talking of the dance down at the Town Hall, and the meeting last Sunday after church. He asked her if she would go with him to the "sociable" they were going to have at No. 4 Truck-house; and when she said she couldn't,--that her mother didn't want her to go out, etc.,--Quigg moved his chair closer, with the remark that the old woman was always putting her oar in and spoiling things; the way she was going on with the Union would ruin her; she'd better join in with the boys, and be friendly; they'd "down her yet if she didn't."

"I hope nothing will happen to mother, Mr. Quigg," said Jennie, in an anxious tone, as she sank into a chair.

Quigg misunderstood the movement, and moved his own closer.

"There won't nothin' happen any more, Jennie, if you'll do as I say."

It was the first time he had ever called her by her name. She could not understand how he dared. She wished Carl would come in.

"Will you do it?" asked Quigg eagerly, his cunning face and mean eyes turned toward her.

Jennie never raised her head. Her cheeks were burning. Quigg went on,--"I've been keepin' company with ye, Jennie, all winter, and the fellers is guyin' me about it. You know I'm solid with the Union and can help yer mother, and if ye'll let me speak to Father McCluskey next Sunday"--The girl sprang from her chair.