The Lady and the Pirate
Page 84I stood looking at her lovely shoulders for some time, but she made no
sign.
"And therefore, finding you so fallen," I resumed, "finding you only,
after all, like the other worthless, parasitic women of the day, Miss
Emory--Helena, I mean--I resolved to do what I could to educate you.
And so I offer you the same footing that I do your nephew--good
wages, good fare, and an opportunity to see the world."
No answer whatever.
"Do you remember the Bay of Naples, at sunset, as we saw it when we
first steamed in on the old City of Berlin, Helena?"
No answer.
"And do you recall Fuji-yama, with the white top--remember the
No answer.
"And then, the fiords of Norway, and the mountains? Or the chalk
cliffs off Dover? And those sweet green fields of England--as we rode
up to London town? And the taxis there, just you and I, Helena, with
Aunt Lucinda happily evaded--just you and I? Yes, I am thinking of
forcing Aunt Lucinda to walk the plank ere long, Helena. I want a
world all my own, Helena, the world that was meant for us, Helena,
made for us--a world with no living thing in it but yonder
mocking-bird that's singing; and you, and me."
"Could you not dispense with the mocking-bird--and me?" she asked.
"No," (I winced at her thrust, however). "No, not with you. And you
worthless heart, Helena Emory, that if it came to the test, and if
life and all the world and all happiness were to be either all yours
or all mine, I'd go anywhere, do anything, and leave it all to you
rather than keep any for myself."
"Go, then!"
"If I might, I should. But male and female made He them. I spoke of us
as units human, but not as the unit homo. Much as I despise you,
Helena, I can not separate you from myself in my own thought. We seem
to me to be like old Webster's idea of the Union--'one and
indivisible.' And since I can not divide us in any thought, I, John
Doe, alias Black Bart, alias the man you once called Harry, have
If the world were indeed my oyster, I should open it for us both; but
saying both, I should see only you. Isn't it odd, Helena?"
"It is eleven-thirty," said she.
"Almost time for luncheon. Do you think me a 'good provider,' Helena?"
"Humph! Mr. Davidson was. While your stolen stores last in your stolen
boat, I suppose we shall not be hungry."
"Or thirsty?" She shrugged.
"Or barren of cork-tips of the evening? Or devoid of guitar strings?"