“No, no,” she whispered in a terrified tone. For the moment all that was best in her rose up and threatened to defeat his end.
But James saw his mistake. For a second a flash of anger lit his eyes, and hot resentment flew to his lips. But it found no expression. Instead, the anger died out of his eyes, and was replaced by a fire of passion such as had always won its way with this girl. He moved towards her again with something subtly seductive in his manner, and his arms closed about her unresisting form in a caress she was powerless to deny. Passive yet palpitating she lay pressed in his arms, all her woman’s softness, all her subtle perfume, maddening him to a frenzy.
“Won’t you? I love you, Jessie, so that nothing else on earth counts. I can’t do without you–I can’t–I can’t!”
His hot lips crushed against hers, which yielded themselves all too willingly. Presently he raised his head, and his eyes held hers. “Won’t you come, Jess? There’s nothing here for you. See, I can give you all you wish for: money, a fine home, as homes go hereabouts. My ranch is a dandy place, and,” with a curious laugh, “stocked with some of the best cattle in the country. You’ll have horses to ride, and dresses–See! You can have all you want. What is there here? Nothing. Say, you don’t even get enough to eat. Scipio hasn’t got more backbone in him than to gather five cents when it’s raining dollars.” He kissed her upturned face again, and the warm responsive movement of her lips told him how easy his task really was.
But again she pressed him back, so that he held her only at arms’ length. Her swimming eyes gazed long and ardently into his.
“It isn’t that, Jim,” she said earnestly; “it isn’t that. Those things don’t count. It’s–it’s you. I–I don’t want dresses. I don’t want the money. I–I–want you.”
Then she started, terrified again.
“But, Jim, why did you come up to this hut?” she cried. “Why didn’t you wait for me down in the bush at the river, as usual? Oh, Jim, if anybody sees you they’ll shoot you down like a dog–”
“Dog, eh?” cried the man, with a ringing laugh. “Let ’em try. But don’t you worry, Jess. No one saw me. Anyway, I don’t care a curse if they did.”
“Oh, Jim!”
Then she nestled closer to him for a moment of passionate silence, while he kissed her, prolonging the embrace with all the fire with which he was consumed. And after that she spoke again. But now it was the mother that would no longer be denied, even in the midst of her storm of emotion.
“But I–I can’t leave them–the little ones. I can’t, I can’t!” she cried piteously. “Jim, I love you. God knows how badly I love you, but I–I love them, too. They are mine. They are part of me, and–and I can’t do without them. No–no. I can’t go–I won’t go,” she hurried on, without conviction. “I can’t. I want my babies–my little boy and girl. You say you love me. I know you love me. Then take them with us, and–and I’ll do as you wish. Oh, I’m wicked, I know. I’m wicked, and cruel, and vile to leave Scipio. And I don’t want to, but–but–oh, Jim, say you’ll take them, too. I can never be happy without them. You can never understand. You are a man, and so strong.” He drew her to him again, and she nestled close in his arms. “You don’t know what it is to hear a child’s voice, and know that it is part of you, your life, one little tiny atom beginning all over again. No, no–I must have them.”
She slowly drew herself away, watching his handsome face, half fearfully, half eagerly. She knew in her heart that she was waiting for his verdict, and, whatever it might be, she would have to abide by it. She knew she must do as he wished, and that very knowledge gladdened her, even in spite of her maternal dread of being parted from her babies.
She saw his expression change. She saw the look of perplexity in the sudden drawing together of his finely marked brows, she saw the half-angry impatience flash into his eyes, she saw this again replaced with a half-derisive smile. And each emotion she read in her own way, molding it to suit and fall in with her own desires, yet with a willing feeling that his decision should be paramount, that she was there to obey him.
He slowly shook his head, and a curious hardness set itself about his strong mouth.
“Not now,” he said. “I would, but it can’t be done. See here, Jess, I’ve got two horses hidden away down there in the bush beside the creek–one for you, and one for me. We can’t fetch those kiddies along with us now. It wouldn’t be safe, anyhow. We’ve got sixty-odd miles to ride through the foothills. But see, I’ll fetch ’em one day, after, if you must have ’em. How’s that?”
“But they’ll never let you,” cried Jessie. “The whole camp will be up in arms when they know I’ve gone. You don’t know them, Jim. They’re fond of Zip, and they’ll stand by him.”
James laughed contemptuously.
“Say, Jess,” he cried, “you come right along with me now. And if you need those kiddies, not all Suffering Creek–no, nor hell itself–shall stop me bringing ’em along to you.” Then he chuckled in an unpleasant manner. “Say, it would tickle me to death to set these mutton-headed gophers jumping around. You’ll get those kiddies if you need ’em, if I have to blow hell into this mud-heap of a city.”
Jessie’s eyes glowed at the man’s note of savage strength and confidence. She knew he could and would do as he said, and this very fact yielded her to him more surely than any other display could have done. It was this wonderful daring, this reckless, savage manhood that had originally won her. He was so different from all others, from her puny husband. He swept her along and dazzled her. Her own virility cried out for such a mate, and no moral scruples could hope to stay so strong a tide of nature.
“You’ll do it?” she cried fervently. Then she nodded joyously. “Yes, yes, you’ll do it. I know it. Oh, how good you are to me. I love you, Jim.”
Again she was in his arms. Again his kisses fell hot and fast upon her glowing face. Nature was rushing a strong flood tide. It was a moment that could have no repetition in their lives.
They stood thus, locked in each other’s arms, borne along by a passion that was beyond their control–lost to all the world, lost to all those things which should have mattered to them. It was the fervid outpouring of two natures which had nothing that was spiritual in them. They demanded the life of the senses, and so strong was the desire that they were lost to all else.
Then suddenly in the midst of their dream came the disturbing patter of small feet and the joyous, innocent laughter of infantile glee. Two tiny mud-stained figures rushed at the doorway and fell sprawling into the hut. They were on their feet again in a moment, laughing and crowing out their delight. Then, as the man and woman sprang apart, they stood round-eyed, wondering and gaping.
Jamie and Vada paused only till the grown-up eyes were turned in their direction, then their chorus broke out in one breath.
“We got fi’ ’piders–”
“An’ two bugs!”
The important information was fairly shrieked, to the accompaniment of dancing eyes and flushed cheeks.
Jessie gasped. But her emotion was not at the news so rudely broken. It was the breaking of the spell which had held her. Just for one horrific moment she stood staring helplessly at the innocent picture of her four-year-old twins, beautiful in spite of their grimy exterior, beautiful as a Heaven-inspired picture to the mother.
The man smiled. Nor was it an unpleasant smile. Perhaps, somewhere in his savage composition, he had a grain of humor; perhaps it was only the foolish smile of a man whose wits are not equal to so incongruous a situation.
“They’re most ev’ry color,” piped Vada, with added excitement.
“Uh!” grunted Jamie in agreement. “An’ the bugs has horns.”
But