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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/12516-0.txt b/12516-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4eb9903 --- /dev/null +++ b/12516-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13236 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12516 *** + +[Illustration: Drawn by John Cassel. +"Where am I?" she gasped. "What--what +have you done with me?"] + + + + +The Way of an Eagle + + +By E.M. DELL + +1911 + + + + +CONTENTS + + + +PART I + + +CHAPTER + +I.--THE TRUST + +II.--A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER + +III.--THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY + +IV.--DESOLATION + +V.--THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS + +VI.--WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL + +VII.--THE COMING OF AN ARMY + + + +PART II + + +VIII.--COMRADES + +IX.--THE SCHOOL OF SORROW + +X.--THE EAGLE SWOOPS + +XI.--THE FIRST FLIGHT + +XII.--THE MESSAGE + +XIII.--THE VOICE OF A FRIEND + +XIV.--THE POISON OF ADDERS + +XV.--THE SUMMONS + +XVI.--THE ORDEAL + + + +PART III + + +XVII.--An Old Friend + +XVIII.--The Explanation + +XIX.--A Hero Worshipper + +XX.--News from the East + +XXI.--A Harbour of Refuge + +XXII.--An Old Story + +XXIII.--The Sleep Called Death + +XXIV.--The Creed of a Fighter + +XXV.--A Scented Letter + +XXVI.--The Eternal Flame + +XXVII.--The Eagle Caged + +XXVIII.--The Lion's Skin + +XXIX.--Old Friends Meet + +XXX.--An Offer of Friendship + +XXXI.--The Eagle Hovers + + + +PART IV + + +XXXII.--The Face in the Storm + +XXXIII.--The Lifting of the Mask + +XXXIV.--At the Gate of Death + +XXXV.--The Armistice + +XXXVI.--The Eagle Strikes + +XXXVII. THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT + +XXXVIII. THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF + +XXXIX. BY SINGLE COMBAT + +XL. THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + +XLI. THE EAGLE'S PREY + +XLII. THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL + +XLIII. REQUIESCAT + +XLIV. LOVE'S PRISONER + + + +PART V + + +XLV. THE VISION + +XLVI. THE HEART OF A MAN + +XLVII. IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP + +XLVIII. THE HEALING OF THE BREACH + +XLIX. THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG + +L. EREBUS + +LI. THE BIRD OF PARADISE + +LII. A WOMAN'S OFFERING + +LIII. THE LAST SKIRMISH + +LIV. SURRENDER + +LV. OMNIA VINCIT AMOR + +LVI. THE EAGLE SOARS + + + + + "There be three things which are too wonderful + for me, yea, four which I know not: + + The way of an eagle in the air; + the way of a serpent upon a rock; + the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; + and the way of a man with a maid." + +Proverbs xxx, 18-19. + + + + +THE WAY OF AN EAGLE + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRUST + + +The long clatter of an irregular volley of musketry rattled warningly +from the naked mountain ridges; over a great grey shoulder of rock +the sun sank in a splendid opal glow; from very near at hand came the +clatter of tin cups and the sound of a subdued British laugh. And in +the room of the Brigadier-General a man lifted his head from his hands +and stared upwards with unseeing, fixed eyes. + +There was an impotent, crushed look about him as of one nearing the +end of his strength. The lips under the heavy grey moustache moved a +little as though they formed soundless words. He drew his breath once +or twice sharply through his teeth. Finally, with a curious groping +movement he reached out and struck a small hand-gong on the table in +front of him. + +The door slid open instantly and an Indian soldier stood in the +opening. The Brigadier stared full at him for several seconds as if he +saw nothing, his lips still moving secretly, silently. Then suddenly, +with a stiff gesture, he spoke. + +"Ask the major sahib and the two captain sahibs to come to me here." + +The Indian saluted and vanished like a swift-moving shadow. + +The Brigadier sank back into his chair, his head drooped forward, his +hands clenched. There was tragedy, hopeless and absolute, in every +line of him. + +There came the careless clatter of spurred heels and loosely-slung +swords in the passage outside of the half-closed door, the sound of a +stumble, a short ejaculation, and again a smothered laugh. + +"Confound you Grange! Why can't you keep your feet to yourself, you +ungainly Triton, and give us poor minnows a chance?" + +The Brigadier sat upright with a jerk. It was growing rapidly dark. + +"Come in, all of you," he said. "I have something to say. As well to +shut the door, Ratcliffe, though it is not a council of war." + +"There being nothing left to discuss, sir," returned the voice that +had laughed. "It is just a simple case of sitting tight now till +Bassett comes round the corner." + +The Brigadier glanced up at the speaker and caught the last glow of +the fading sunset reflected on his face. It was a clean-shaven face +that should have possessed a fair skin, but by reason of unfavourable +circumstances it was burnt to a deep yellow-brown. The features were +pinched and wrinkled--they might have belonged to a very old man; but +the eyes that smiled down into the Brigadier's were shrewd, bright, +monkey-like. They expressed a cheeriness almost grotesque. The two men +whom he had followed into the room stood silent among the shadows. The +gloom was such as could be felt. + +Suddenly, in short, painful tones the Brigadier began to speak. + +"Sit down," he said. "I have sent for you to ask one among you to +undertake for me a certain service which must be accomplished, but +which I--" he paused and again audibly caught his breath between his +teeth--"which I--am unable to execute for myself." + +An instant's silence followed the halting speech. Then the young +officer who stood against the door stepped briskly forward. + +"What's the job, sir? I'll wager my evening skilly I carry it +through." + +One of the men in the shadows moved, and spoke in a repressive tone. +"Shut up, Nick! This is no mess-room joke." + +Nick made a sharp, half-contemptuous gesture. "A joke only ceases +to be a joke when there is no one left to laugh, sir," he said. "We +haven't come to that at present." + +He stood in front of the Brigadier for a moment--an insignificant +figure but for the perpetual suggestion of simmering activity that +pervaded him; then stepped behind the commanding officer's chair, and +there took up his stand without further words. + +The Brigadier paid no attention to him. His mind was fixed upon one +subject only. Moreover, no one ever took Nick Ratcliffe seriously. It +seemed a moral impossibility. + +"It is quite plain to me," he said heavily at length, "that the time +has come to face the situation. I do not speak for the discouragement +of you brave fellows. I know that I can rely upon each one of you to +do your duty to the utmost. But we are bound to look at things as they +are, and so prepare for the inevitable. I for one am firmly convinced +that General Bassett cannot possibly reach us in time." + +He paused, but no one spoke. The man behind him was leaning forward, +listening intently. + +He went on with an effort. "We are a mere handful. We have dwindled +to four white men among a host of dark. Relief is not even within a +remote distance of us, and we are already bordering upon starvation. +We may hold out for three days more. And then"--his breath came +suddenly short, but he forced himself to continue--"I have to think of +my child. She will be in your hands. I know you will all defend her to +the last ounce of your strength; but which of you"--a terrible gasping +checked his utterance for many labouring seconds; he put his hand over +his eyes--"which of you," he whispered at last, his words barely +audible, "will have the strength to--shoot her before your own last +moment comes?" + +The question quivered through the quiet room as if wrung from the +twitching lips by sheer torture. It went out in silence--a dreadful, +lasting silence in which the souls of men, stripped naked of human +convention, stood confronting the first primaeval instinct of human +chivalry. + +It continued through many terrible seconds--that silence, and through +it no one moved, no one seemed to breathe. It was as if a spell +had been cast upon the handful of Englishmen gathered there in the +deepening darkness. + +The Brigadier sat bowed and motionless at the table, his head sunk in +his hands. + +Suddenly there was a quiet movement behind him, and the spell was +broken. Ratcliffe stepped deliberately forward and spoke. + +"General," he said quietly, "if you will put your daughter in my care, +I swear to you, so help me God, that no harm of any sort shall touch +her." + +There was no hint of emotion in his voice, albeit the words were +strong; but it had a curious effect upon those who heard it. The +Brigadier raised his head sharply, and peered at him; and the other +two officers started as men suddenly stumbling at an unexpected +obstacle in a familiar road. + +One of them, Major Marshall, spoke, briefly and irritably, with a +touch of contempt. His nerves were on edge in that atmosphere of +despair. + +"You, Nick!" he said. "You are about the least reliable man in +the garrison. You can't be trusted to take even reasonable care of +yourself. Heaven only knows how it is you weren't killed long ago. It +was thanks to no discretion on your part. You don't know the meaning +of the word." + +Nick did not answer, did not so much as seem to hear. He was standing +before the Brigadier. His eyes gleamed in his alert face--two weird +pin-points of light. + +"She will be safe with me," he said, in a tone that held not the +smallest shade of uncertainty. + +But the Brigadier did not speak. He still searched young Ratcliffe's +face as a man who views through field-glasses a region distant and +unexplored. + +After a moment the officer who had remained silent throughout came +forward a step and spoke. He was a magnificent man with the physique +of a Hercules. He had remained on his feet, impassive but observant, +from the moment of his entrance. His voice had that soft quality +peculiar to some big men. + +"I am ready to sell my life for Miss Roscoe's safety, sir," he said. + +Nick Ratcliffe jerked his shoulders expressively, but said nothing. He +was waiting for the General to speak. As the latter rose slowly, with +evident effort, from his chair, he thrust out a hand, as if almost +instinctively offering help to one in sore need. + +General Roscoe grasped it and spoke at last. He had regained his +self-command. "Let me understand you, Ratcliffe," he said. "You +suggest that I should place my daughter in your charge. But I must +know first how far you are prepared to go to ensure her safety." + +He was answered instantly, with an unflinching promptitude he had +scarcely expected. + +"I am prepared to go to the uttermost limit, sir," said Nicholas +Ratcliffe, his fingers closing like springs upon the hand that gripped +his, "if there is a limit. That is to say, I am ready to go through +hell for her. I am a straight shot, a cool shot, a dead shot. Will you +trust me?" + +His voice throbbed with sudden feeling. General Roscoe was watching +him closely. "Can I trust you, Nick?" he said. + +There was an instant's silence, and the two men in the background +were aware that something passed between them--a look or a rapid +sign--which they did not witness. Then reckless and debonair came +Nick's voice. + +"I don't know, sir. But if I am untrustworthy, may I die to-night!" + +General Roscoe laid his free hand upon the young man's shoulder. + +"Is it so, Nick?" he said, and uttered a heavy sigh. "Well--so be it +then. I trust you." + +"That settles it, sir," said Nick cheerily. "The job is mine." + +He turned round with a certain arrogance of bearing, and walked to the +door. But there he stopped, looking back through the darkness at the +dim figures he had left. + +"Perhaps you will tell Miss Roscoe that you have appointed me +deputy-governor," he said. "And tell her not to be frightened, sir. +Say I'm not such a bogey as I look, and that she will be perfectly +safe with me." His tone was half-serious, half-jocular. He wrenched +open the door not waiting for a reply. + +"I must go back to the guns," he said, and the next moment was gone, +striding carelessly down the passage, and whistling a music-hall +ballad as he went. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER + + +In the centre of the little frontier fort there was a room which one +and all of its defenders regarded as sacred. It was an insignificant +chamber, narrow as a prison cell and almost as bare; but it was the +safest place in the fort. In it General Roscoe's daughter--the only +white woman in the garrison--had dwelt safely since the beginning of +that dreadful siege. + +Strictly forbidden by her father to stir from her refuge without +his express permission, she had dragged out the long days in close +captivity, living in the midst of nerve-shattering tumult but taking +no part therein. She was little more than a child, and accustomed +to render implicit obedience to the father she idolised, or she had +scarcely been persuaded to submit to this rigorous seclusion. It would +perhaps have been better for her physically and even mentally to +have gone out and seen the horrors which were being daily enacted all +around her. She had at first pleaded for at least a limited freedom, +urging that she might take her part in caring for the wounded. But her +father had refused this request with such decision that she had never +repeated it. And so she had seen nothing while hearing much, lying +through many sleepless nights with nerves strung to a pitch of torture +far more terrible than any bodily exhaustion, and vivid imagination +ever at work upon pictures more ghastly than even the ghastly reality +which she was not allowed to see. + +The strain was such as no human frame could have endured for long. +Her strength was beginning to break down under it. The long sleepless +nights were more than she could bear. And there came a time when +Muriel Roscoe, driven to extremity, sought relief in a remedy from +which in her normal senses she would have turned in disgust. + +It helped her, but it left its mark upon her--a mark which her father +must have noted, had he not been almost wholly occupied with the +burden that weighed him down. Morning and evening he visited her, yet +failed to read that in her haunted eyes which could not have escaped a +clearer vision. + +Entering her room two hours after his interview with his officers +regarding her, he looked at her searchingly indeed, but without +understanding. She lay among cushions on a _charpoy_ of bamboo in +the light of a shaded lamp. Young and slight and angular, with a +pale little face of utter weariness, with great dark eyes that gazed +heavily out of the black shadows that ringed them round, such was +Muriel Roscoe. Her black hair was simply plaited and gathered up at +the neck. It lay in cloudy masses about her temples--wonderful hair, +quite lustreless, so abundant that it seemed almost too much for the +little head that bore it. She did not rise at her father's entrance. +She scarcely raised her eyes. + +"So glad you've come, Daddy," she said, in a soft, low voice. "I've +been wanting you. It's nearly bedtime, isn't it?" + +He went to her, treading lightly. His thoughts had been all of her for +the past few hours and in consequence he looked at her more critically +than usual. For the first time he was struck by her pallor, her look +of deathly weariness. On the table near her lay a plate of boiled rice +piled high in a snowy pyramid. He saw that it had not been touched. + +"Why, child," he said, a sudden new anxiety at his heart "you have had +nothing to eat. You're not ill?" + +She roused herself a little, and a very faint colour crept into her +white cheeks. "No, dear, only tired--too tired to be hungry," she told +him. "That rice is for you." + +He sat down beside her with a sound that was almost a groan. "You must +eat something, child," he said. "Being penned up here takes away your +appetite. But all the same you must eat." + +She sat up slowly, and pushed back the heavy hair from her forehead +with a sigh. + +"Very well, Daddy," she said submissively. "But you must have some +too, dear. I couldn't possible eat it all." + +Something in his attitude or expression seemed to strike her at this +point, and she made a determined effort to shake off her lethargy. A +spoon and fork lay by the plate. She handed him the former and kept +the latter for herself. + +"We'll have a picnic, Daddy." she said, with a wistful little smile. +"I told _ayah_ always to bring two plates, but she has forgotten. We +don't mind, though, do we?" + +It was childishly spoken, but the pathos of it went straight to the +man's heart. He tasted the rice under her watching eyes and pronounced +it very good; then waited for her to follow his example which she did +with a slight shudder. + +"Delicious, Daddy, isn't it?" she said. And even he did not guess what +courage underlay the words. + +They kept up the farce till the pyramid was somewhat reduced; then by +mutual consent they suffered their ardour to flag. There was a faint +colour in the girl's thin face as she leaned back again. Her eyes were +brighter, the lids drooped less. + +"I had a dream last night, Daddy," she said, "such a curious dream, +and so vivid. I thought I was out on the mountains with some one. I +don't know who it was, but it was some one very nice. It seemed to be +very near the sunrise, for it was quite bright up above, though it was +almost dark where we stood. And, do you know--don't laugh, Daddy, +I know it was only a silly dream--when I looked up, I saw that +everywhere the mountains were full of horses and chariots of fire. I +felt so safe, Daddy, and so happy. I could have cried when I woke up." + +She paused. It was rather difficult for her to make conversation for +the silent man who sat beside her so gloomy and preoccupied. Save that +she loved her father as she loved no one else on earth, she might have +felt awed in his presence. + +As it was, receiving no response, she turned to look, and the next +instant was on her knees beside him, her thin young arms clinging to +his neck. + +"Daddy, darling, darling!" she whispered, and hid her face against him +in sudden, nameless terror. + +He clasped her to him, holding her close, that she might not again see +his face and the look it wore. She began to tremble, and he tried to +soothe her with his hand, but for many seconds he could find no words. + +"What is it, Daddy?" she whispered at last, unable to endure the +silence longer. "Won't you tell me? I can be very brave. You said so +yourself." + +"Yes," he said. "You will be a brave girl, I know." His voice quivered +and he paused to steady it. "Muriel," he said then, "I don't know if +you have ever thought of the end of all this. There will be an end, +you know. I have had to face it to-night." + +She looked up at him quickly, but he was ready for her. He had +banished from his face the awful despair that he carried in his soul. + +"When Sir Reginald Bassett comes--" she began uncertainly. + +He put his hand on her shoulder. "You will try not to be afraid," he +said. "I am going to treat you, as I have treated my officers, with +absolute candour. We shall not hold out more than three days more. Sir +Reginald Bassett will not be here in time." + +He stopped. Muriel uttered not a word. Her face was still upturned, +and her eyes had suddenly grown intensely bright, but he read no +shrinking in them. + +With an effort he forced himself to go on. "I may not be able to +protect you when the end comes. I may not even be with you. But--there +is one man upon whom you can safely rely whatever happens, who will +give himself up to securing your safety alone. He has sworn to me that +you shall not be taken, and I know that he will keep his word. You +will be safe with him, Muriel. You may trust him as long as you live. +He will not fail you. Perhaps you can guess his name?" + +He asked the question with a touch of curiosity in the midst of +his tragedy. That upturned, listening face had in it so little of a +woman's understanding, so much of the deep wonder of a child. + +Her answer was prompt and confident, and albeit her very lips were +white, there was a faint hint of satisfaction in her voice as she made +it. + +"Captain Grange, of course, Daddy." + +He started and looked at her narrowly. "No, no!" he said. "Not Grange! +What should make you think of him?" + +He saw a look of swift disappointment, almost of consternation, darken +her eyes. For the first time her lips quivered uncertainly. + +"Who then, Daddy? Not--not Mr. Ratcliffe?" + +He bent his head. "Yes, Nick Ratcliffe. I have placed you in his +charge. He will take care of you." + +"Young Nick Ratcliffe!" she said slowly. "Why, Daddy, he can't even +take care of himself yet. Every one says so. Besides,"--a curiously +womanly touch crept into her speech--"I don't like him. Only the other +day I heard him laugh at something that was terrible--something it +makes me sick to think of. Indeed, Daddy, I would far rather have +Captain Grange to take care of me. Don't you think he would if you +asked him? He is so much bigger and stronger, and--and kinder." + +"Ah! I know," her father said. "He seems so to you. But it is nerve +that your protector will need, child; and Ratcliffe possesses more +nerve than all the rest of the garrison put together. No, it must be +Ratcliffe, Muriel. And remember to give him all your trust, all your +confidence. For whatever he does will be with my authority--with +my--full--approval." + +His voice failed suddenly and he rose, turning sharply away from the +light. She clung to his arm silently, in a passion of tenderness, +though she was far from understanding the suffering those last words +revealed. She had never seen him thus moved before. + +After a few seconds he turned back to her, and bending kissed her +piteous face. She clung closely to him with an agonised longing to +keep him with her; but he put her gently from him at last. + +"Lie down again, dear," he said, "and get what rest you can. Try not +to be frightened at the noise. There is sure to be an assault, but the +fort will hold to-night." + +He stood a moment, looking down at her. Then again he stooped and +kissed her. "Good-bye, my darling," he said huskily, "till we meet +again!" + +And so hurriedly, as if not trusting himself to remain longer, he left +her. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY + + +There came again the running rattle of rifle-firing from the valley +below the fort, and Muriel Roscoe, lying on her couch, pressed both +hands to her eyes and shivered. It seemed impossible that the end +could be so near. She felt as if she had existed for years in this +living nightmare of many horrors, had lain down and had slept with +that dreadful sound in her ears from the very beginning of things. The +life she had led before these ghastly happenings had become so vague a +memory that it almost seemed to belong to a previous existence, to an +earlier and a happier era. As in a dream she now recalled the vision +of her English school-life. It lay not a year behind her, but she felt +herself to have changed so fundamentally since those sunny, peaceful +days that she seemed to be a different person altogether. The Muriel +Roscoe of those days had been a merry, light-hearted personality. She +had revelled in games and all outdoor amusements. Moreover, she had +been quick to learn, and her lessons had never caused her any trouble. +A daring sprite she had been, with a most fertile imagination and a +longing for adventure that had never been fully satisfied, possessing +withal so tender and loving a heart that the very bees in the garden +had been among her cherished friends. She remembered all the sunny +ideals of that golden time and marvelled at herself, forgetting +utterly the eager, even passionate, craving that had then been hers +for the wider life, the broader knowledge, that lay beyond her reach, +forgetting the feverish impatience with which she had longed for +the day of her emancipation when she might join her father in the +wonderful glowing East which she so often pictured in her dreams. Of +her mother she had no memory. She had died at her birth. Her father +was all the world to her; and when at last he had travelled home on a +brief leave and taken her from her quiet English life to the strange, +swift existence of the land of his exile, her soul had overflowed with +happiness. + +Nevertheless, she had not been carried away by the gaieties of this +new world. The fascinations of dance and gymkhana had not caught her. +The joy of being with her father was too sacred and too precious to be +foregone for these lesser pleasures, and she very speedily decided to +sacrifice all social entertainments to which he could not accompany +her. She rode with him, camped with him, and became his inseparable +companion. Undeveloped in many ways, shy in the presence of strangers, +she soon forgot her earlier ambition to see the world and all that it +contained. Her father's society was to her all-sufficing, and it was +no sacrifice to her to withdraw herself from the gay crowd and dwell +apart with him. + +He had no wish to monopolise her, but it was a relief to him that the +constant whirl of pleasure about her attracted her so little. He liked +to have her with him, and it soon became a matter of course that she +should accompany him on all his expeditions. She revelled in his tours +of inspection. They were so many picnics to her, and she enjoyed them +with the zest of a child. + +And so it came to pass that she was with him among the hills of the +frontier when, like a pent flood suddenly escaping, the storm of +rebellion broke and seethed about them, threatening them with total +annihilation. + +No serious trouble had been anticipated. A certain tract of country +had been reported unquiet, and General Roscoe had been ordered to +proceed thither on a tour of inspection and also, to a very mild +degree, of intimidation. Marching through the district from fort to +fort, he had encountered no shadow of opposition. All had gone well. +And then, his work over, and all he set out to do satisfactorily +accomplished, his face towards India and his back to the mountains, +the unexpected had come upon him like a thunderbolt. + +Hordes of tribesmen, gathered Heaven knew how or whence, had suddenly +burst upon him from the south, had cut off his advance by sheer +immensity of numbers, and, hemming him in, had forced him gradually +back into the mountain fastnesses through which he had just passed +unmolested. + +It was a stroke so wholly new, so subtly executed, that it had won +success almost before the General had realised the weight of the +disaster that had come upon him. He had believed himself at first to +be involved in a mere fray with border thieves. But before he reached +the fort upon which he found himself obliged to fall back, he knew +that he had to cope with a general rising of the tribes, and that the +means at his disposal were as inadequate to stem the rising flood of +rebellion as a pebble thrown into a mountain stream to check its flow. + +The men under his command, with the exception of a few officers, were +all native soldiers, and he soon began to have a strong suspicion that +among these he numbered traitors. Nevertheless, he established himself +at the fort, determined there to make his stand till relief should +arrive. + +The telegraph wires were cut, and for a time it seemed that all +communication with the outside world was an impossibility. Several +runners were sent out, but failed to break through the besieging +forces. But at last after many desperate days there came a message +from without--a scrap of paper attached to a stone and flung over the +wall of the fort at night. News of the disaster had reached Peshawur, +and Sir Reginald Bassett, with a hastily collected force, was moving +to their assistance. + +The news put heart into the garrison, and for a time it seemed that +the worst would be averted. But it became gradually evident to General +Roscoe that the relieving force could not reach them in time. The +water supply had run very low, and the men were already subsisting +upon rations that were scarcely sufficient for the maintenance of +life. There was sickness among them, and there were also many wounded. +The white men were reduced to four, including himself, the native +soldiers had begun to desert, and he had been forced at last to face +the fact that the end was very near. + +All this had Muriel Roscoe come through, physically scathless, +mentally torn and battered, and she could not bring herself to realise +that the long-drawn-out misery of the siege could ever be over. + +Lying there, tense and motionless, she listened to the shots and yells +in the distance with a shuddering sense that it was all a part of her +life, of her very being, even. The torture and the misery had so eaten +into her soul. Now and then she heard the quick thunder of one of the +small guns that armed the fort, and at the sound her pulses leaped +and quivered. She knew that the ammunition was running very low. These +guns did not often speak now. + +Then, during a lull, there came to her the careless humming of a +British voice, the free, confident tread of British feet, approaching +her door. + +She caught her breath as a hand rapped smartly upon the panel. She +knew who the visitor was, but she could not bring herself to bid him +enter. A sudden awful fear was upon her. She could neither speak nor +move. She lay, listening intently, hoping against hope that he would +believe her to be sleeping and go away. + +The knock was not repeated. Dead silence reigned. And then quickly +and decidedly the door opened, and Nick Ratcliffe stood upon the +threshold. The light struck full upon his face as he halted--a clever, +whimsical face that might mask almost any quality good or bad. + +"May I come in, Miss Roscoe?" he asked. + +For she had not moved at his appearance. She lay as one dead. But as +he spoke she uncovered her face, and terror incarnate stared wildly at +him from her starting eyes. He entered without further ceremony, +and closed the door behind him. In the shaded lamplight his features +seemed to twitch as if he wanted to smile. So at least it seemed to +her wrought-up fancy. + +He gazed greedily at the plate of rice on the table as he came +forward. "Great Jupiter!" he said. "What a sumptuous repast!" + +The total freedom from all anxiety or restraint with which he made +this simple observation served to restore to some degree the girl's +tottering self-control. She sat up, sufficiently recovered to remember +that she did not like this man. + +"Pray have some if you want it," she said coldly. + +He turned his back on it abruptly. "No, don't tempt me," he said. +"It's a fast day for me. I'm acquiring virtue, being conspicuously +destitute of all other forms of comfort. Why don't you eat it +yourself? Are you acquiring virtue too?" + +He stood looking down at her quizzically, under rapidly flickering +eyelids. She sat silent, wishing with all her heart that he would go +away. + +Nothing, however, was apparently further from his thoughts. After a +moment he sat down in the chair that her father had occupied an hour +before. It was very close to her, and she drew herself slightly +away with a small, instinctive movement of repugnance. But Nick was +sublimely impervious to hints. + +"I say, you know," he said abruptly, "you shouldn't take opium. Your +donkey of an _ayah_ ought to know better than to let you have it." + +Muriel gave a great start. "I don't"--she faltered. "I--I--" + +He shook his head at her, as though reproving a child. "Pussy's out," +he observed. "It is no good giving chase. But really, you know, you +mustn't do it. You used to be a brave girl once, and now your nerves +are all to pieces." + +There was a species of paternal reproach in his tone. Looking at him, +she marvelled that she had ever thought him young and headlong. Almost +in spite of herself she began to murmur excuses. + +"I can't help it. I must have something. I don't sleep. I lie for +hours, listening to the fighting. It--it's more than I can bear." +Her voice quivered, and she turned her face aside, unable to hide her +emotion, but furious with herself for displaying it. + +Nick said nothing at all to comfort her, and she bitterly resented +his silence. After a pause he spoke again, as if he had banished the +matter entirely from his mind. + +"Look here," he said. "I want you to tell me something. I don't know +what sort of a fellow you think I am, though I fancy you don't like +me much. But you're not afraid of me, are you? You know I'm to be +trusted?" + +It was her single chance of revenge, and she took it. "I have my +father's word for it," she said. + +He nodded thoughtfully as if unaware of the thrust. "Yes, your father +knows me. And so"--he smiled at her suddenly--"you are ready to trust +me on his recommendation? You are ready to follow me blindfold through +danger if I give you my hand to hold?" + +She felt a sharp chill strike her heart. What was it he was asking of +her? What did those words of his portend? + +"I don't know," she said. "I don't see that it makes much difference +how I feel." + +"Well, it does," he assured her. "And that is exactly what I have +come to talk about. Miss Roscoe, will you leave the fort with me, +and escape in disguise? I have thought it all out, and it can be done +without much difficulty. I do not need to tell you that the idea has +your father's full approval." + +They were her father's own words, but at sound of them she shrank +and shivered, in sheer horror at the coolness with which they were +uttered. He might have been asking her to stroll with him in the leafy +quiet of some English lane. + +Could it be, she asked herself incredulously, could it be that her +father had ever sanctioned and approved so ghastly a risk for her? She +put her hand to her temples. Her brain was reeling. How could she do +this thing? How could she have permitted it to be even suggested to +her? And then, swift through her tortured mind flashed his words: +"There will be an end. I have had to face it to-night." Was it this +that he had meant? Was it for this that he had been preparing her? + +With a muffled exclamation she rose, trembling in every limb. "I +can't!" she cried piteously, "oh, I can't! Please go away!" + +It might have been the frightened prayer of a child, so beseeching +was it, so full of weakness. But Nick Ratcliffe heard it unmoved. He +waited a few seconds till she came to a stand by the table, her back +towards him. Then with a sudden quiet movement he rose and followed +her. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "But you can't afford to shirk things +at this stage. I am offering you deliverance, though you don't realise +it." + +He spoke with force, and if his aim had been to rouse her to a more +practical activity, he gained his end. She turned upon him in swift +and desperate indignation. Her voice rang almost harsh. + +"How can you call it deliverance? It is at best a choice of two +horrible evils. You know perfectly well that we could never get +through. You must be mad to suggest such a thing. We should be made +prisoners and massacred under the very guns of the fort." + +"I beg your pardon," he said again, and his eyelids quivered a little +as if under the pressure of some controlled emotion. "We shall not be +made prisoners. I know what I am saying. It is deliverance that I am +offering you. Of course you can refuse, and I shall still do my +utmost to save you. But the chances are not equal. I hope you will not +refuse." + +The moderation of this speech calmed her somewhat. In her first wild +panic she had almost imagined that he could take her against her will. +She saw that she had been unreasonable, but she was too shaken to tell +him so. Moreover, there was still that about him, notwithstanding his +words, that made her afraid to yield a single inch of ground lest by +some hidden means he should sweep her altogether from her precarious +foothold. Even in the silence, she felt that he was doing battle with +her, and she did not dare to face him. + +With a childish gesture of abandonment, she dropped into a chair and +laid her head upon her arms. + +"Oh, please go away!" she besought him weakly. "I am so tired--so +tired." + +But Ratcliffe did not move. He stood looking down at her, at the black +hair that clustered about her neck, at the bowed, despairing figure, +the piteous, clenched hands. + +A little clock in the room began to strike in silvery tones, and he +glanced up. The next instant he bent and laid a bony hand upon her two +clasped ones. + +"Can't you decide?" he said. "Will you let me decide for you? Don't +let yourself get scared. You have kept so strong till now." Firmly +as he spoke, there was somehow a note of soothing in his voice, and +almost insensibly the girl was moved by it. She remained silent and +motionless, but the strong grip of his fingers comforted her subtly +notwithstanding. + +"Come," he said, "listen a moment and let me tell you my plan of +campaign. It is very simple, and for that reason it is going to +succeed. You are listening now?" + +His tone was vigorous and insistent. Muriel sat slowly up in response +to it. She looked down at the thin hand that grasped hers, and +wondered at its strength; but she lacked the spirit at that moment to +resent its touch. + +He leaned down upon the table, his face close to hers, and began to +unfold his plan. + +"We shall leave the fort directly the moon is down. I have a disguise +for you that will conceal your face and hair. And I shall fake as a +tribesman, so that my dearest friend would never recognise me. They +will be collecting the wounded in the dark, and I will carry you +through on my shoulder as if I had got a dead relation. You won't +object to playing a dead relation of mine?" + +He broke into a sudden laugh, but sobered instantly when he saw her +shrink at the sound. + +"That's about all the plan," he resumed. "There is nothing very +alarming about it, for they will never spot us in the dark. I'm as +yellow as a Chinaman already. We shall be miles away by morning. And I +know how to find my way afterwards." + +He paused, but Muriel made no comment. She was staring straight before +her. + +"Can you suggest any amendments?" he asked. + +She turned her head and looked at him with newly-roused aversion in +her eyes. She had summoned all her strength to the combat, realising +that now was the moment for resistance if she meant to resist. + +"No, Mr. Ratcliffe," she said, with a species of desperate firmness +very different from his own. "I have nothing to suggest. If you wish +to escape, you must go alone. It is quite useless to try to persuade +me any further. Nothing--nothing will induce me to leave my father." + +Whether or not he had expected this opposition was not apparent on +Nick's face. It betrayed neither impatience nor disappointment. + +"There would be some reason in that," he gravely rejoined, "if you +could do any good to your father by remaining. Of course I see your +point, but it seems to me that it would be harder for him to see you +starve with the rest of the garrison than to know that you had escaped +with me. A woman in your position is bound to be a continual burden +and anxiety to those who protect her. The dearer she is to them, so +much the heavier is the burden. Miss Roscoe, you must see this. You +are not an utter child. You must realise that to leave your father +is about the greatest sacrifice you can make for him at the present +moment. He is worn out with anxiety on your behalf, literally bowed +down by it. For his sake, you are going to do this thing, it being the +only thing left that you can do for him." + +There was more than persuasion in his voice. It held authority. But +Muriel heard it without awe. She had passed that stage. The matter +was too momentous to allow of weakness. She had strung herself to the +highest pitch of resistance as a hunted creature at bay. She threw +back her head, a look of obstinacy about her lips, her slight figure +straightened to the rigidity of defiance. + +"I will not be forced," she said, in sharp, uneven tones. "Mr. +Ratcliffe, you may go on persuading and arguing till doomsday. I will +not leave my father." + +Ratcliffe stood up abruptly. A curious glitter shone in his eyes, and +the light eyebrows twitched a little. She felt that he had suddenly +ceased to do battle with her, yet that the victory was not hers. And +for a second she was horribly frightened, as though an iron trap had +closed upon her and held her at his mercy. + +He walked to the door without speaking and opened it. She expected +him to go, sat waiting breathlessly for his departure, but instead he +stood motionless, looking into the dark passage. + +She wondered with nerves on edge what he was waiting for. Suddenly +she heard a step without, a few murmured words, and Nick stood on one +side. Her father's Sikh orderly passed him, carrying a tray on which +was a glass full of some dark liquid. He set it down on the table +before her with a deep salaam. + +"The General Sahib wishes Missy Sahib to have a good night," he said. +"He cannot come to her himself, but he sends her this by his servant, +and he bids her drink it and sleep." + +Muriel looked up at the man in surprise. Her father had never done +such a thing before, and the message astonished her not a little. +Then, remembering that he had shown some anxiety regarding her +appearance that evening, she fancied she began to understand. Yet +it was strange, it was utterly unlike him, to desire her to take an +opiate. She looked at the glass with hesitation. + +"Give him my love, Purdu," she said finally to the waiting orderly. +"Tell him I will take it if I cannot sleep without." + +The man bowed himself again and withdrew. To her disgust, however, +Nick remained. He was looking at her oddly. + +"Miss Roscoe," he said abruptly, "I beg you, don't drink that +stuff. Your father must be mad to offer it to you. Let me take the +beastliness away." + +She faced him indignantly. "My father knows what is good for me better +than you do," she said. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't profess to be a sage. But any +one will tell you that it is madness to take opium in this reckless +fashion. For Heaven's sake, be reasonable. Don't take it." + +He came back to the table, but at his approach she laid her hand upon +the glass. She was quivering with angry excitement. + +"I will not endure your interference any longer," she declared, goaded +to headlong, nervous fury by his persistence. "My father's wishes are +enough for me. He desires me to take it, and so I will." + +She took up the glass in a sudden frenzy of defiance. He had +frightened her--yes, he had frightened her--but he should see how +little he had gained by that. She took a taste of the liquid, then +paused, again assailed by a curious hesitancy. Had her father really +meant her to take it all? + +Nick had stopped short at her first movement, but as she began to +lower the glass in response to that disquieting doubt, he swooped +suddenly forward like a man possessed. + +For a fleeting instant she thought he was going to wrest it from her, +but in the next she understood--understood the man's deep treachery, +and with what devilish ingenuity he had worked upon her. Holding her +with an arm that felt like iron, he forced the glass back between her +teeth, and tilted the contents down her throat. She strove to resist +him, strove wildly, frantically, not to swallow the draught. But he +held her pitilessly. He compelled her, gripping her right hand with +the glass, and pinning the other to her side. + +When it was over, when he had worked his will and the hateful draught +was swallowed, he set her free and turned himself sharply from her. + +She sprang up trembling and hysterical. She could have slain him in +that instant had she possessed the means to her hand. But her strength +was more nearly exhausted than she knew. Her limbs doubled up under +her weight, and as she tottered, seeking for support, she realised +that she was vanquished utterly at last. + +She saw him wheel quickly and start to support her, sought to evade +him, failed--and as she felt his arms lift her, she cried aloud in +anguished helplessness. + +What followed dwelt ever after in her memory as a hideous dream, vivid +yet not wholly tangible. He laid her down upon the couch and bent over +her, his hands upon her, holding her still; for every muscle, every +nerve twitched spasmodically, convulsively, in the instinctive effort +of the powerless body to be free. She had a confused impression also +that he spoke to her, but what he said she was never able to recall. +In the end, her horror faded, and she saw him as through a mist +bending above her, grim and tense and silent, controlling her as it +were from an immense distance. And even while she yet dimly wondered, +he passed like a shadow from her sight, and wonder itself ceased. + +Half an hour later Nicholas Ratcliffe, the wit and clown of his +regiment, regarded by many as harebrained or wantonly reckless, +carried away from the beleaguered fort among the hostile mountains the +slight, impassive figure of an English girl. + +The night was dark, populated by terrors alive and ghastly. But he +went through it as one unaware of its many dangers. Light-footed and +fearless, he passed through the midst of his enemies, marching with +the sublime audacity of the dominant race, despising caution--yea, +grinning triumphant in the very face of Death. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DESOLATION + + +Out of a deep abyss of darkness in which she seemed to have wandered +ceaselessly and comfortlessly for many days, Muriel Roscoe came +haltingly back to the surface of things. She was very weak, so weak +that to open her eyes was an exertion requiring all her resolution, +and to keep them open during those first hours of returning life a +physical impossibility. She knew that she was not alone, for gentle +hands ministered to her, and she was constantly aware of some one who +watched her tirelessly, with never-failing attention. But she felt +not the smallest interest regarding this faithful companion, being +too weary to care whether she lived or fell away for ever down those +unending steeps up which some unseen influence seemed magnetically to +draw her. + +It was a stage of returning consciousness that seemed to last even +longer than the period of her wandering, but this also began to pass +at length. The light grew stronger all about her, the mists rolled +slowly away from her clogged brain, leaving only a drowsing languor +that was infinitely restful to her tired senses. + +And then while she lay half-dreaming and wholly content, a remorseless +hand began to bathe her face and head with ice-cold water. She awoke +reluctantly, even resentfully. + +"Don't!" she entreated like a child. "I am so tired. Let me sleep." + +"My poor dear, I know all about it," a motherly voice made answer. +"But it's time for you to wake." + +She did not grasp the words--only, very vaguely, their meaning; and +this she made a determined, but quite fruitless, effort to defy. In +the end, being roused in spite of herself, she opened her eyes and +gazed upwards. + +And all his life long Nick Ratcliffe remembered the reproach that +those eyes held for him. It was as if he had laid violent hands upon a +spirit that yearned towards freedom, and had dragged it back into the +sordid captivity from which it had so nearly escaped. + +But it was only for a moment that she looked at him so. The reproach +faded swiftly from the dark eyes and he saw a startled horror dawn +behind it. + +Suddenly she raised herself with a faint cry. "Where am I?" she +gasped. "What--what have you done with me?" + +She stared around her wildly, with unreasoning, nightmare terror. She +was lying on a bed of fern in a narrow, dark ravine. The place was +full of shadow, though far overhead she saw the light of day. At one +end, only a few yards from her, a stream rushed and gurgled among +great boulders, and its insistent murmur filled the air. Behind her +rose a great wall of grey rock, clothed here and there with some dark +growth. Its rugged face was dented with hollows that looked like the +homes of wild animals. There was a constant trickle of water on all +sides, an eerie whispering, remote but incessant. As she sat there in +growing panic, a great bat-like creature, immense and shadowy, swooped +soundlessly by her. + +She shrank back with another cry, and found Nick Ratcliffe's arm +thrust protectingly about her. + +"It's all right," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You're not +frightened at flying-foxes, are you?" + +Recalled to the fact of his presence, she turned sharply, and flung +his arm away as though it had been a snake. "Don't touch me!" she +gasped, passionate loathing in voice and gesture. + +"Sorry," said Nick imperturbably. "I meant well." + +He began to busy himself with a small bundle that lay upon the ground, +whistling softly between his teeth, and for a few seconds Muriel sat +and watched him. He was dressed in a flowing native garment, that +covered him from head to foot. Out of the heavy enveloping folds his +smooth, yellow face looked forth, sinister and terrible to her fevered +vision. He looked like some evil bird, she thought to herself. + +Glancing down, she saw that she was likewise attired, save that +her head was bare. The hair hung wet on her forehead, and the water +dripped down her face. She put up her hand half-mechanically to wipe +the drops away. Her fear was mounting rapidly higher. + +She knew now what had happened. He had drugged her forcibly--she +shivered at the remembrance--and had borne her away to this dreadful +place during her unconsciousness. Her father was left behind in the +fort. He had sanctioned her removal. He had given her, a helpless +captive, into this man's keeping. + +But no! Her whole soul rose up in sudden fierce denial of this. He +had never done this thing. He had never given his consent to an act so +cowardly and so brutal. He was incapable of parting with her thus. He +could never have permitted so base a trick, so cruel, so outrageous, a +deed of treachery. + +Strength came suddenly to her--the strength of frenzy. She leaped to +her feet. She would escape. She would go back to him through all +the hordes of the enemy. She would face anything--anything in the +world--rather than remain at the mercy of this man. + +But--he had not been looking at her, and he did not look at her,--his +arm shot out as she moved, and his hand fastened claw-like upon her +dress. + +"Sorry," he said again, in the same practical tone. "But you'll have +something to eat before you go." + +She stooped and strove wildly, frantically, to shake off the detaining +hand. But it held her like a vice, with awful skeleton fingers that +she could not, dared not, touch. + +"Let me go!" she cried impotently. "How dare you? How dare you?" + +Still he did not raise his head. He was on his knees, and he would not +even trouble himself to rise. + +"I can't help myself," he told her coolly. "It's not my fault. It's +yours." + +She made a final, violent effort to wrest herself free. And then--it +was as if all power were suddenly taken from her--her strained nerves +gave way completely, and she dropped down upon the ground again in a +quivering agony of helplessness. + +Nick's hand fell away from her. "You shouldn't," he said gently. "It's +no good, you know." + +He returned to his former occupation while she sat with her face +hidden, in a stupor of fear, afraid to move lest he should touch her +again. + +"Now," said Nick, after a brief pause, "let me have the pleasure of +seeing you break your fast. There is some of that excellent boiled +rice of yours here. You will feel better when you have had some." + +She trembled at the sound of his voice. Could he make her eat also +against her will, she wondered? + +"Come!" said Nick again, in a tone of soft wheedling that he might +have employed to a fractious child. "It'll do you good, you know, +Muriel. Won't you try? Just a mouthful--to please me!" + +Reluctantly she uncovered her face, and looked at him. He was kneeling +in front of her, the _chuddah_ pushed back from his face, humbly +offering her an oatmeal biscuit with a small heap of rice piled upon +it. + +She drew back shuddering. "I couldn't eat anything--possibly," she +said, and even her voice seemed to shrink. "You can. You take it. I +would rather die." + +Nick did not withdraw his hand. "Take it, Muriel," he said quietly. +"It is going to do you good." + +She flashed him a desperate glance in which anger, fear, abhorrence, +were strongly mingled. He advanced the biscuit a little nearer. There +was a queer look on his yellow face, almost a bullying look. + +"Take it," he said again. + +And against her will, almost without conscious movement, she obeyed +him. The untempting morsel passed from his hand to hers, and under the +compulsion of his insistence she began to eat. + +She felt as if every mouthful would choke her, but she persevered, +urged by the dread certainty that he would somehow have his way. + +Not until the last fragment was gone did she feel his vigilance relax, +but he ate nothing himself though there remained several biscuits and +a very little of the rice. + +"You are feeling better?" he asked her then. + +A curious suspicion that he was waiting to tell her something made +her answer almost feverishly in the affirmative. It amounted to a +premonition of evil tidings, and instinctively her thoughts flew to +her father. + +"What is it?" she questioned nervously. "You have something to say." + +Nick's face was turned from her. He seemed to be gazing across the +ravine. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment. + +"Oh, what?" she broke in. "Tell me quickly--quickly! It is my father, +I know, I know. He has been hurt--wounded--" + +She stopped. Nick had lifted one hand as if to silence her. "My dear," +he said, his voice very low, "your father died last night--before we +left the fort." + +At her cry of agony he started up, and in a second he was on his +knees by her side and had gathered her to him as though she had been +a little child in need of comfort. She did not shrink from him in her +extremity. The blow had been too sudden, too overwhelming. It blotted +out all lesser sensibilities. In those first terrible moments she +did not think of Nick at all, was scarcely conscious of his presence, +though she vaguely felt the comfort of his arms. + +And he, holding her fast against his breast, found no consolation, no +word of any sort wherewith to soothe her. He only rocked her gently, +pressing her head to his shoulder, while his face, bent above her, +quivered all over as the face of a man in torture. + +Muriel spoke at last, breaking her stricken silence with a strangely +effortless composure. "Tell me more," she said. + +She stirred in his arms as if to free herself from some oppression, +and finally drew herself away from him, though not as if she wished to +escape his touch. She still seemed to be hardly aware of him. He was +the medium of her information, that was all. Nick dropped back into +his former attitude, his hands clasped firmly round his knees, his +eyes, keen as a bird's and extremely bright, gazing across the ravine. +His lips still quivered a little, but his voice was perfectly even and +quiet. + +"It happened very soon after the firing began. It must have been +directly after he left you. He was hit in the breast, just over the +heart. We couldn't do anything for him. He knew himself that it was +mortal. In fact, I think he had almost expected it. We took him into +the guardroom and made him as easy as possible. He lost consciousness +before he died. He was lying unconscious when I came to you." + +Muriel made a sharp movement. "And you never told me," she said, in a +dry whisper. + +"I thought it best," he answered with great gentleness. "You could not +have gone to him. He didn't wish it." + +"Why not?" she demanded, and suddenly her voice rang harsh again. "Why +could I not have gone to him? Why didn't he wish it?" + +Nick hesitated for a single instant. Then, "It was for your own sake," +he said, not looking at her. + +"You mean he suffered?" + +"While he remained conscious--yes." Nick spoke reluctantly. "It didn't +last long," he said. + +She scarcely seemed to hear him. "And so you tricked me," she said; +"you tricked me while my father was lying dying. I was not to see +him--either then or after--for my own sake! And do you think"--her +voice rising--"do you think that you were in any way justified in +treating me so? Do you think it was merciful to blind me and to take +from me all I should ever have of comfort to look back upon? Do you +think I couldn't have borne it all ten thousand times easier if I +could have seen and known the very worst? It was my right--it was +my right! How dared you take it from me? I will never forgive +you--never!" + +She was on her feet as the passionate protest burst from her, but she +swayed as she stood and flung out her arms with a groping gesture. + +"I could have borne it," she cried again wildly, piteously. "I could +have borne anything--anything--if I had only known!" + +She broke into a sudden, terrible sobbing, and threw herself +down headlong upon the earth, clutching at the moss with shaking, +convulsive fingers, and crying between her sobs for "Daddy! Daddy!" as +though her agony could pierce the dividing barrier and bring him +back to her. Nick made no further attempt to help her. He sat gazing +stonily out before him in a sphinx-like stillness that never varied +while the storm of her anguish spent itself at his side. + +Even after her sobs had ceased from sheer exhaustion he made no +movement, no sign that he was so much as thinking of her. + +Only when at last she raised herself with difficulty, and put the +heavy hair back from her disfigured face, did he turn slightly and +hold out to her a small tin cup. + +"It's only water," he said gently. "Have some." + +She took it almost mechanically and drank, then lay back with closed +eyes and burning head, sick and blinded by her paroxysm of weeping. + +A little later she felt his hands moving about her again, but she was +too spent to open her eyes. He bathed her face with a care equal to +any woman's, smoothed back her hair, and improvised a pillow for her +head. + +And afterwards she knew that he sat down by her, out of sight but +close at hand, a silent presence watching over her, till at last, worn +out with grief and the bitter strain of the past weeks, she sank into +natural, dreamless slumber, and slept for hours. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS + + +It was dark when Muriel awoke--so dark that she lay for a while +dreamily fancying herself in bed. But this illusion passed very +quickly as her brain, refreshed and active, resumed its work. The cry +of a jackal at no great distance roused her to full consciousness, and +she started up in the chill darkness, trembling and afraid. + +Instantly a warm hand grasped hers, and a low voice spoke. "It's all +right," said Nick. "I'm here." + +"Oh, isn't it dark?" she said. "Isn't it dark?" + +"Don't be frightened," he answered gently. "Come close to me. You are +cold." + +She crept to him shivering, thankful for the shielding arm he threw +around her. + +"The sunrise can't be far off," he said. "I expect you are hungry, +aren't you?" + +She was very hungry, and he put a biscuit into her hand. The very fact +of eating there in the darkness in some measure reassured her. She ate +several biscuits, and began to feel much better. + +"Getting warmer?" questioned Nick. "Let me feel your hands." They were +still cold, and he took them and thrust them down against his breast. +She shrank a little at the touch of his warm flesh. + +"It will make you so cold," she murmured. + +But he only laughed at her softly, and pressed them closer. "I am not +easily chilled," he said. "Besides, it's sleeping that makes you cold. +And I haven't slept." + +Muriel heard the news with astonishment. She was no longer angry with +Nick, and her fears of him were dormant. Though she would never forget +and might never forgive his treachery, he was her sole protector in +that wilderness of many terrors, and she lacked the resolution to keep +him at arm's length. There was, moreover, something comforting in his +presence, something that vastly reassured her, making her lean upon +him almost in spite of herself. + +"Haven't you slept at all?" she asked him in wonder. "How in the world +did you keep awake?" + +He did not answer her, only laughed again as though at some secret +joke. He seemed to be in rather good spirits, she noticed, and she +marvelled at him with a heavy pain at her heart that was utterly +beyond expression or relief. + +She sat silent for a little, then at length withdrew her hands, +assuring him that they were quite warm. + +"And I want to talk to you," she added, in a more practical tone than +she had previously managed to assume. "Mr. Ratcliffe, you may be in +command of this expedition, but I think you ought to tell me your +plans." + +"Call me Nick, won't you?" he said. "It'll make things easier. You are +quite welcome to know my plans, such as they are. I haven't managed +to develop anything very ingenious during all these hours. You see we +are, to a certain extent, at the mercy of circumstances. This place +isn't more than a dozen miles from the fort, and the hills all round +are infested with tribesmen. I hoped at first that we should get clear +in the night, but you were asleep, and on the whole it seemed best to +lie up for another day. We might make a bolt for it to-morrow night if +all goes well. I have a sort of instinct for these mountains. There is +always plenty of cover for those who know how to find it. It will be +slow progress, of course, but we will keep moving south, and, given +luck, we may fall in with Bassett's relief column before many days." + +So with much serenity he disclosed his plans, and Muriel marvelled +afresh at the confidence that buoyed him up. Was he really as +sublimely free from anxiety as he wished her to believe, she wondered? +It was difficult to think otherwise, even though he had admitted that +they were governed by circumstance. She began to think that there was +magic in him, some hidden reserve force upon which he could always +draw when all other resources failed. + +Another matter had also caught her attention, and this she presently +decided to investigate. She had never thought of Nick Ratcliffe as in +any sense a remarkable person before. + +"Did you actually carry me ten miles?" she asked. + +"Something very near it," said Nick. + +"How in the world did you do it?" Her interest was quickened. +Undoubtedly there was something uncanny in this man's strength. + +"You're not very heavy, you know," he said. + +His arm was still around her, and she suffered it; for the darkness +still frightened her when she allowed herself to think. + +"Have you had anything to eat?" she asked him next. + +"Not quite lately," said Nick. "I've been smoking. I wonder you didn't +notice it." + +His tone was somehow repressive, but she ignored it with a growing +temerity. After all, he did not seem such an alarming person on a +nearer acquaintance. + +"Does smoking do as well as eating?" she asked. + +"Much better," said Nick promptly. "Care to try?" + +She shook her head in the darkness. "I don't think you are telling the +truth," she said. + +"What?" said Nick. + +He spoke carelessly, but she did not repeat her assertion. A sudden +shyness descended upon her, and she became silent. Nick was quiet too, +and she wondered what was passing in his mind. But for the tenseness +of the arm that encircled her, she could have believed him to be +dozing. The silence was becoming oppressive when abruptly he broke it. + +"See!" he said. "Here comes the dawn!" + +She started and stared in front of her, seeing nothing. + +"Over to your left," said Nick. And turning she beheld a lightening of +the darkness high above them. + +She breathed a sigh of thankfulness, and watched it grow. It spread +rapidly. The walls of the ravine showed ghostly grey, then faintly +pink. Through the dimness the boulders scattered about the stream +stood up like mediaeval monsters, and for a few panic-stricken seconds +Muriel took the twining roots of a rhododendron close at hand for the +coils of a gigantic snake. Then as the ordinary light of day filtered +down into the gloomy place she sighed again with relief, and looked at +her companion. + +He was sitting with his chin on his hand, gazing across the ravine. He +did not stir or glance in her direction. His yellow face was seamed in +a thousand wrinkles. + +A vague misgiving assailed her as she looked at him. There was +something unnatural in his stillness. + +"Nick!" she said at length with hesitation. + +He turned sharply, and in an instant the ready grin leaped out upon +his face. "Good morning," he said lightly. "I was just thinking how +nice it would be to go down there and have a wash. We've got to pass +the time somehow, you know. Will you go first?" + +His gaiety baffled her, but she did not feel wholly reassured. She got +up slowly, and as she did so, her attention was caught by something +that sent a thrill of dismay through her. + +"Don't look at my feet, please," said Nick. "They won't bear +inspection at present." + +She turned horrified eyes to his face, as he thrust them down into a +bunch of fern. "How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "They are all cut and +gashed. I didn't know you were barefooted." + +"I wasn't," said Nick. "I've got some sandals here. Don't look like +that! You make me want to cry. I assure you it doesn't hurt in the +least." + +He grinned again as he uttered this cheerful lie, but Muriel was not +deceived. + +"You must let me bind them up," she said. + +"Not for the world," laughed Nick. "I couldn't walk with my feet +in poultice-bags, and we shall have some more rough marching to do +to-night. Now don't you worry. Run along like a good girl. I'm going +to say my prayers." + +It was flippantly spoken, but Muriel realised that it would be better +to obey. She turned about slowly, and began to make her way down to +the stream. + +The sunlight was beginning to slant through the ravine, and here and +there the racing water gleamed silvery. It was intensely refreshing to +kneel and bathe face and hands in its icy coldness. She lingered long +over it. Its sparkling purity seemed to reach and still the throbbing +misery at her heart. In some fashion it brought her peace. + +She would have prayed, but she felt she had no prayer to offer. She +had no favour to ask for herself, and her world was quite empty now. +She had no one in her heart for whom to pray. + +Yet for awhile she knelt dumb among the lifeless stones, her face +hidden, her thoughts with the father whose loss she had scarcely +begun to realise. It might be that God would understand and pity her +silence, she thought drearily to herself. + +The rush of the water drowned all sound but its own, and the memory +of Nick, waiting above, faded from her consciousness like a dream. Her +brain felt numb and heavy still. She did not want to think. She leaned +her head against a rock, closing her eyes. The continuous babble of +the stream was like a lullaby. + +Under its soothing influence she might have slept, a blessed +drowsiness was stealing over her, when suddenly there flashed through +her being a swift warning of approaching danger. Whence it came she +knew not, but its urgency was such that instinctively she started up +and looked about her. + +The next instant, with a sound half-gasp, half-cry, she was on +her feet, and shrinking back against her sheltering boulder in the +paralysis of a great horror. There, within a few yards of her and +drawing nearer, ever nearer, with a beast-like stealth, was a tall, +black-bearded tribesman. Transfixed by terror, she stood and gazed +at him, waiting dumbly, cold from head to foot, feeling as though her +very heart had turned to stone. + +Nearer he came, and yet nearer, soundlessly over the stones. His eyes, +gleaming, devilish, were to her as the eyes of a devouring monster. +In her agony she tried to shriek aloud, but her voice was gone, her +throat seemed locked. She was powerless. + +Close to her, for a single instant he paused; then, as in a lightning +flash, she saw the narrow, sinewy hand and snake-like arm dart forward +to seize her, felt every muscle in her body stiffen to rigidity in +anticipation of its touch, and shrank--shrank in every nerve though +she made no outward sign of shrinking. + +But on the instant, with a panther-like spring, sure, noiseless, +deadly, another figure leapt suddenly across her vision. There +followed a violent struggle in front of her, a confused swaying to and +fro, a cry choked instantly and terribly, the tinkling sound of steel +falling upon stone. And then both figures were on the ground almost +at her feet, locked together in mortal combat, fighting, fighting +like demons in a silence that throbbed with the tumult of unrestrained +savagery. + +Later she never could remember how long it took her to realise that +the second apparition was Nick, or if she had known it from the first. +She felt herself hovering upon the brink of a great emptiness, a void +immense, and yet all her senses were alive and tingling with horror. +With agonised perception of what was passing, she yet felt numbed: as +though her body were dead, but still contained a vital, tortured soul. + +And it was thus that she presently saw Nick's face bent above the +black-bearded face of his enemy; and remembered suddenly and horribly +a picture she had once seen of the devil in the wilderness. + +With his knees he was gripping the writhing body of his fallen foe. +With his hands--it came upon her as she watched with a shock of +anguished comprehension--he was deliberately and with deadly intention +choking out the man's life. + +"Curse you! Die!" she heard him say and his voice sounded like the +snarl of a wild beast. His upper lip was drawn back, the lower one was +between his teeth, and from it the blood dripped continuously upon his +hands and upon the dark throat he gripped. + +"Give me that knife!" he suddenly said, with an upward jerk of the +head. + +A dagger was lying almost within his reach, close to her foot. She +could have kicked it towards him had not her body been fast bound in +that deathly inertia. But her whole soul rose up in wild revolt at +the order. She tried to cry out, to implore him to have mercy, but +she could not make a sound. She could only stand in frozen horror, and +witness this awful thing. + +She saw Nick shift his grip to one hand and reach out with the other +for the weapon. He grasped it and recovered himself. A great darkness +was descending upon her, but it did not come at once. It hovered +before her eyes, and seemed to pass, and again she saw the horror +at her feet; saw Nick, bent to destroy like an eagle above his prey, +merciless, full of strength, terrible; saw the man beneath him, +writhing, convulsed, tortured; saw his upturned face, and starting +eyes; saw the sudden downward swoop of Nick's right hand, the flash of +the descending steel. + +In her agony she burst the spell that bound her, and shrieking turned +to flee from that awful sight. + +But even as she moved, the darkness came suddenly back upon her, +enveloping her, overwhelming her--a darkness that could be felt. For +a little she fought against it frantically, impotently. Then her feet +seemed to totter over the edge of a dreadful, formless silence. She +knew that she fell. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL + + +"Wake up!" said Nick softly. "Wake up! Don't be afraid." + +But Muriel turned her face from the light with a moan. Memory winged +with horror was sweeping back upon her, and she wanted never to wake +again. + +"Wake up!" Nick said again, and this time there was insistence in his +voice. "Open your eyes, Muriel. There is nothing to frighten you." + +Shuddering, she obeyed him. She was lying once more upon her couch of +ferns, and he was stooping over her, looking closely into her face. +His eyes were extraordinarily bright, like the eyes of an eagle, but +the lids flickered so rapidly that he seemed to be looking through her +rather than at her. There was a wound upon his lower lip, and at the +sight she shuddered again, closing her eyes. She remembered that the +last time she had looked upon that face, it had been the face of a +devil. + +"Oh, go away! Go away!" she wailed. "Let me die!" + +"I will go away," he answered swiftly, "if you will promise to drink +what is in this cup." + +He pressed it against her hand, and she took it almost mechanically. +"It is only brandy and water," he said. "You will drink it?" + +"If I must," she answered weakly. + +"You must," he rejoined, and she heard him rise and move away. She +strained her ears to listen, but she very soon ceased to hear him; and +then raising herself cautiously, she drank. A warm thrill of life ran +through her veins with the draught, steadying her, refreshing her. But +it was long before she could bring herself to look round. + +The miniature roar of the stream was the only sound to be heard, and +when at length she glanced downwards there was no sign anywhere of +the ghastly spectacle she had just witnessed. She saw the rock behind +which she had knelt, and again a violent fit of shuddering assailed +her. What did that rock conceal? + +Nevertheless she presently took courage to rise, looking about her +furtively, half afraid that Nick might pop up at any moment to detain +her. For she felt that she could not stay longer in that place, +whatever he might say or do. The one idea that possessed her was to +get away from him, to escape from his horrible presence, whither she +neither knew nor cared. If he appeared to stop her then, she thought +that she would go raving mad. + +But she saw nothing of him as she stood there, and with deep relief +she began to creep away. Half a dozen yards she covered, and then +stood suddenly still with her heart in her throat. There, immediately +in front of her, flung prone upon the ground with his face on his +arms, was Nick. He did not move at her coming, did not seem to hear. +And the thought came to her to avoid him by a circuit, and yet escape. +But something--a queer, indefinable something--made her pause. Why was +he lying there? Had he been hurt in that awful struggle? Was he--was +he unconscious? Was he--dead? + +She fought back the impulse to fly, not for its unworthiness, but +because she felt that she must know. + +Trembling, she moved a little nearer to the prostrate, motionless +figure. + +"Nick!" she whispered under her breath. + +He made no sign. + +Her doubt turned to sudden, overmastering fear that pricked her +forward in spite of herself. + +"Nick!" she said again, and finding herself close to him she bent and +very slightly touched his shoulder. + +He moved then, and she almost gasped with relief. He turned his head +sharply without raising himself, and she saw the grim lines of his +lean cheek and jaw. + +"That you, Muriel?" he said, speaking haltingly, spasmodically. "I'm +awfully sorry. Fact is--I'm not well. I shall be--better--directly. Go +back, won't you?" + +He broke off, and lay silent, his hands clenched as if he were in +pain. + +Muriel stood looking down at him in consternation. It was her chance +to escape--a chance that might never occur again--but she had no +further thought of taking it. + +"What is it?" she asked him timidly, "Can I--do anything?" + +And then she suddenly saw what was the matter. It burst upon her--a +startling revelation. Possibly the sight of those skeleton fists +helped her to enlightenment. She turned swiftly and sped back to their +camping ground. + +In thirty seconds or less, she was back again and stooping over him +with a piece of brown bread in her hand. + +"Eat this," she ordered, in a tone of authority. + +Nick's face was hidden again. He seemed to be fighting with himself. +His voice came at length, muffled and indistinct. + +"No, no! Take it away! I'll have a drain of brandy. And I've got some +tobacco left." + +Muriel stooped lower. She caught the words though they were scarcely +audible. She laid her hand upon his arm, stronger in the moment's +emergency than she had been since leaving the fort. + +"You are to eat it," she said very decidedly. "You shall eat it. Do +you hear, Nick? I know what is the matter with you. You are starving. +I ought to have seen it before." + +Nick uttered a shaky laugh, and dragged himself up on to his elbows. +"I'm not starving," he declared. "Take it away, Muriel. Do you think +I'm going to eat your luncheon, tea, and dinner, and to-morrow's +breakfast as well?" + +"You are going to eat this," she answered. + +He flashed her a glance of keen curiosity. "Am I?" he said. + +"You must," she said, speaking with an odd vehemence which later +surprised herself. "Why should you go out of your way to tell me a +lie? Do you think I can't see?" + +Nick raised himself slowly. Something in the situation seemed to have +deprived him of his usual readiness. But he would not take the bread, +would not even look at it. + +"I'm better now," he said. "We'll go back." + +Muriel stood for a second irresolute, then sharply turned her back. +Nick sat and watched her in silence. Suddenly she wheeled. "There!" +she said. "I've divided it. You will eat this at least. It's absurd of +you to starve yourself. You might as well have stayed in the fort to +do that." + +This was unanswerable. Nick took the bread without further protest. +He began to eat, marvelling at his own docility; and suddenly he knew +that he was ravenous. + +There was very little left when at length he looked up. + +"Show me what you have saved for yourself," he said. + +But Muriel backed away with a short, hysterical laugh. + +He started to his feet and took her rudely by the shoulder. "Do +you mean to say--" he began, almost with violence; and then checked +himself, peering at her with fierce, uncertain eyes. + +She drew away from him, all her fears returning upon her in a flood; +but at her movement he set her free and turned his back. + +"Heaven knows what you did it for," he said, seeming to control his +voice with some difficulty. "It wasn't for your own sake, and I won't +presume to think it was for mine. But when the time comes for handing +round rewards, may it be remembered that your offering was something +more substantial than a cup of cold water." + +He broke off with a queer sound in the throat, and began to move away. + +But Muriel followed him, an unaccountable sense of responsibility +overcoming her reluctance. + +"Nick!" she said. + +He stood still without turning. She had a feeling that he was putting +strong restraint upon himself. With an effort she forced herself to +continue. + +"You want sleep, I know. Will you--will you lie down while I watch?" + +He shook his head without looking at her. + +"But I wish it," she persisted. "I can wake you if--anything happens." + +"You wouldn't dare," said Nick. + +"I suppose that means you are afraid to trust me," she said. + +He turned at that. "It means nothing of the sort. But you've had one +scare, and you may have another. I think myself that that fellow was +a scout on the look-out for Bassett's advance guard. But Heaven only +knows what brought him to this place, and there may be others. That's +why I didn't dare to shoot." + +He paused, his light eyebrows raised, surveying her questioningly; for +Muriel had suddenly covered her face with both hands. But in another +moment she looked up again, and spoke with an effort. + +"Your being awake couldn't lessen the danger. Won't you--please--be +reasonable about it? I am doing my best." + +There was a deep note of appeal in her voice, and abruptly Nick gave +in. + +He moved back to their resting-place without another word, and flung +himself face downwards beside the nest of fern that he had made for +her, lying stretched at full length like a log. + +She had not expected so sudden and complete a surrender. It took her +unawares, and she stood looking down at him, uncertain how to proceed. + +But after a few seconds he turned his head towards her and spoke. + +"You'll stay by me, Muriel?" + +"Of course," she answered, that unwonted sense of responsibility still +strongly urging her. + +He murmured something unintelligible, and stirred uneasily. She knew +in a flash what he wanted, but a sick sense of dread held her back. +She felt during the silence that followed as though he were pleading +with her, urging her, even entreating her. Yet still she resisted, +standing near him indeed, but with a desperate reluctance at her +heart, a shrinking unutterable from the bare thought of any closer +proximity to him that was as the instinctive recoil of purity from a +thing unclean. + +The horror of his deed had returned upon her over-whelmingly with his +brief reference to it. His lack of emotion seemed to her as hideous +callousness, more horrible than the deed itself. His physical +exhaustion had called her out of herself, but the reaction was doubly +terrible. + +Nick said no more. He lay quite motionless, hardly seeming to breathe, +and she realised that there was no repose in his attitude. He was not +even trying to rest. + +She wrung her hands together. It could not go on, this tension. Either +she must yield to his unspoken desire, or he would sit up and cry +off the bargain. And she knew that sleep was a necessity to him. +Common-sense told her that he was totally unfit for further hardship +without it. + +She closed her eyes a moment, summoning all her strength for the +greatest sacrifice she had ever made. And then in silence she sat down +beside him, within reach of his hand. + +He uttered a great sigh and suffered his whole body to relax. And she +knew by the action, though he did not speak a word, that she had set +his mind at rest. + +Scarcely a minute later, his quiet breathing told her that he slept, +but she sat on by his side without moving during the long empty hours +of her vigil. He had trusted her without a question, and, as her +father's daughter, she would at whatever cost prove herself worthy of +his trust. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE COMING OF AN ARMY + + +Through a great part of the night that followed they tramped steadily +southward. The stars were Nick's guide, though as time passed he began +to make his way with the confidence of one well-acquainted with his +surroundings. The instinct of locality was a sixth sense with him. +Hand in hand, over rocky ground, through deep ravines, by steep and +difficult tracks, they made their desperate way. Sometimes in the +distance dim figures moved mysteriously, revealed by starlight, +but none questioned or molested them. They passed from rock to rock +through the heart of the enemy's country, unrecognised, unobserved. +There were times when Nick grasped his revolver under his disguise, +ready, ready at a moment's notice, to keep his word to the girl's +father, should detection be their portion; but each time as the danger +passed them by he tightened his hold upon her, drawing her forward +with greater assurance. + +They scarcely spoke throughout the long, long march. Muriel had moved +at first with a certain elasticity, thankful to escape at last from +the horrors of their resting-place. But very soon a great weariness +came upon her. She was physically unfit for any prolonged exertion. +The long strain of the siege had weakened her more than she knew. + +Nevertheless, she kept on bravely, uttering no complaint, urged to +utmost effort by the instinctive desire to escape. It was this one +idea that occupied all her thoughts during that night. She shrank with +a vivid horror from looking back. And she could not see into the dim +blank future. It was mercifully screened from her sight. + +At her third heavy stumble, Nick stopped and made her swallow some +raw brandy from his flask. This buoyed her up for a while, but it was +evident to them both that her strength was fast failing. And presently +he stopped again, and without a word lifted her in his arms. She +gasped a protest to which he made no response. His arms compassed +her like steel, making her feel helpless as an infant. He was limping +himself, she noticed; yet he bore her strongly, without faltering, +sure-footed as a mountain goat over the broken ground, till he found +at length what he deemed a safe halting-place in a clump of stunted +trees. + +The sunrise revealed a native village standing among rice and cotton +fields in the valley below them. + +"I shall have to go foraging," Nick said. + +But Muriel's nerves that had been tottering on the verge of +collapse for some time here broke down completely. She clung to him +hysterically and entreated him not to leave her. + +"I can't bear it! I can't bear it!" she kept reiterating. "If you go, +I must go too. I can't--I can't stay here alone." + +He gave way instantly, seeing that she was in a state of mind that +bordered upon distraction, and that he could not safely leave her. He +sat down beside her, therefore, making her as comfortable as he could; +and she presently slept with her head upon his shoulder. It was but +a broken slumber, however, and she awoke from it crying wildly that +a man was being murdered--murdered--murdered--and imploring him with +agonised tears to intervene. + +He quieted her with a steady insistence that gained its end, though +she crouched against him sobbing for some time after. As the sun rose +higher her fever increased, but she remained conscious and suffering +intensely, all through the heat of the day. Then, as the evening drew +on, she slipped into a heavy stupor. + +It was the opportunity Nick had awaited for hours, and he seized it. +Laying her back in the deep shadow of a boulder, he went swiftly down +into the valley. The last light was passing as he strode through the +village, a gaunt, silent figure in a hillman's dress, a native dagger +in his girdle. Save that he had pulled the _chuddah_ well over his +face, he attempted no concealment. + +He glided by a ring of old men seated about a fire, moving like a +shadow through the glare. They turned to view him, but he had already +passed with the tread of a wolf, and the mud wall of one of the +cottages hid him from sight. + +Into this hut he dived as though some instinct guided him. He paid no +heed to a woman on a string-bedstead with a baby at her breast, who +chattered shrilly at his entrance. Preparations for a meal were +in progress, and he scarcely paused before he lighted upon what he +sought. A small earthen pitcher stood on the mud floor. He swooped +upon it, caught it up, splashing milk in all directions, clapped his +hand yellow and claw-like upon the mouth, and was gone. + +There arose a certain hue and cry behind him, but he was swiftly +beyond detection, a fleeing shadow up the hillside. And the baffled +villagers, returning, found comfort in the reflection that he was +doubtless a holy man and that his brief visit would surely entail a +blessing. + +By the time they arrived at this conclusion, Nick was kneeling by the +girl's side, supporting her while she drank. The nourishment revived +her. She came to herself, and thanked him. + +"You will have some too," said she anxiously. + +And Nick drank also with a laugh and a joke to cloak his eagerness. +That draught of milk was more to him at that moment than the choicest +wine of the gods. + +He sat down beside her again when he had thus refreshed himself. He +thought that she was drowsy, and was surprised when presently she laid +a trembling hand upon his arm. + +He bent over her quickly. "What is it? Anything I can do?" + +She did not shrink from him any longer. He could but dimly see her +face in the strong shadow cast by the moonlight behind the trees. + +"I want just to tell you, Nick," she said faintly, "that you will have +to go on without me when the moon sets. You needn't mind about leaving +me any more. I shall be dead before the morning comes. I'm not afraid. +I think I'm rather glad. I am so very, very tired." + +Her weak voice failed. + +Nick was stooping low over her. He did not speak at once. He only took +the nerveless hand that lay upon his arm and carried it to his lips, +breathing for many seconds upon the cold fingers. + +When at length he spoke, his tone was infinitely gentle, but it +possessed, notwithstanding, a certain quality of arresting force. + +"My dear," he said, "you belong to me now, you know. You have been +given into my charge, and I am not going to part with you." + +She did not resist him or attempt to withdraw her hand, but her +silence was scarcely the silence of acquiescence. When she spoke again +after a long pause, there was a piteous break in her voice. + +"Why don't you let me die? I want to die. Why do you hold me back?" + +"Why?" said Nick swiftly. "Do you really want me to tell you why?" + +But there he checked himself with a sharp, indrawn breath. The next +instant he laid her hand gently down. + +"You will know some day, Muriel," he said. "But for the present you +will have to take my reason on trust. I assure you it is a very good +one." + +The restraint of his words was marked by a curious vehemence, but this +she was too ill at the time to heed. She turned her face away almost +fretfully. + +"Why should I live?" she moaned. "There is no one wants me now." + +"That will never be true while I live," Nick answered steadily, and +his tone was the tone of a man who registers a vow. + +But again she did not heed him. She had suffered too acutely and +too recently to be comforted by promises. Moreover, she did not want +consolation. She wanted only to shut her eyes and die. In her weakness +she had not fancied that he could deny her this. + +And so when presently he roused her by lifting her to resume the +journey, she shed piteous tears upon his shoulder, imploring him to +leave her where she was. He would not listen to her. He knew that it +was highly dangerous to rest so close to habitation, and he would not +risk another day in such precarious shelter. + +So for hours he carried her with a strength almost superhuman, forcing +his physical powers into subjection to his will. Though limping badly, +he covered several miles of wild and broken country, deserted for the +most part, almost incredibly lonely, till towards sunrise he found a +resting-place in a hollow high up the side of a mountain, overlooking +a winding, desolate pass. + +Muriel was either sleeping or sunk in the stupor of exhaustion. There +was some brandy left in his flask, and he made her take a little. But +it scarcely roused her, and she was too weak to notice that he did not +touch any himself. + +All through the scorching day that followed, she dozed and woke in +feverish unrest, sometimes rambling incoherently till he brought her +gravely back, sometimes crying weakly, sometimes making feeble efforts +to pray. + +All through the long, burning hours he never stirred away from her. He +sat close to her, often holding her in his arms, for she seemed less +restless so; and perpetually he gazed out with terrible, bloodshot +eyes over the savage mountains, through the long, irregular line of +pass, watching eagle-like, tireless and intent, for the deliverance +which, if it came at all, must come that way. His face was yellow and +sunken, lined in a thousand wrinkles like the face of a monkey; but +his eyes remained marvellously bright. They looked as if they had not +slept for years, as if they would never sleep again. He was at the end +of his resources and he knew it, but he would watch to the very end. +He would die watching. + +As the sun sank in a splendour that transfigured the eternally white +mountain-crest to a mighty shimmer of rose and gold, he turned at last +and looked down at the white face pillowed upon his arm. The eyes were +closed. The ineffable peace of Death seemed to dwell upon the quiet +features. She had lain so for a long time, and he had fancied her +sleeping. + +He caught his breath, feeling for his flask, and for the first time +his hands shook uncontrollably. But as the raw spirit touched her +lips, he saw her eyelids quiver, and a great gasp of relief went +through him. As she opened her eyes he stayed his hand. It seemed +cruel to bring her back. But the suffering and the half instinctive +look of horror passed from her eyes like a shadow, as they rested upon +him. There was even the very faint flicker of a smile about them. + +She turned her face slightly towards him with the gesture of a child +nestling against his breast. Yet though she lay thus in his arms, he +felt keenly, bitterly, that she was very far away from him. + +He hung over her, still holding himself in with desperate strength, +not daring to speak lest he should disturb the holy peace that seemed +to be drawing all about her. + +The sunset glory deepened. For a few seconds the crags above them +glittered golden as the peaks of Paradise. And in the wonderful +silence Muriel spoke. + +"Do you see them?" she said. + +He saw that her eyes were turned upon the shining mountains. There was +a strange light on her face. + +"See what, darling?" he asked her softly. + +Her eyes came back to him for a moment. They had a thoughtful, +wondering look. + +"How strange!" she said slowly. "I thought it was--an eagle." + +The detachment of her tone cut him to the heart. And suddenly the pain +of it was more than he could bear. + +"It is I--Nick," he told her, with urgent emphasis. "Surely you know +me!" + +But her eyes had passed beyond him again. "Nick?" she questioned to +herself. "Nick? But this--this was an eagle." + +She was drawing away from him, and he could not hold her, could not +even hope to follow her whither she went. A great sob broke from him, +and in a moment, like the rush of an overwhelming flood from behind +gates long closed, the anguish of the man burst its bonds. + +"Muriel!" he cried passionately. "Muriel! Stay with me, look at +me, love me! There is nothing in the mountains to draw you. It is +here--here beside you, touching you, holding you. O God," he prayed +brokenly, "she doesn't understand me. Let her understand,--open her +eyes,--make her see!" + +His agony reached her, touched her, for a moment held her. She turned +her eyes back to his tortured face. + +"But, Nick," she said softly, "I can see." + +He bent lower. "Yes?" he said, in a choked voice. "Yes?" + +She regarded him with a faint wonder. Her eyes were growing heavy, as +the eyes of a tired child. She raised one hand and pointed vaguely. + +"Over there," she said wearily. "Can't you see them? Then perhaps it +was a dream, or even--perhaps--a vision. Don't you remember how +it went? 'And behold--the mountain--was full--of horses--and +chariots--of--fire!' God sent them, you know." + +The tired voice ceased. Her head sank lower upon Nick's breast. She +gave a little quivering sigh, and seemed to sleep. + +And Nick turned his tortured eyes upon the pass below him, and stared +downwards spellbound. + +Was he dreaming also? Or was it perchance a vision--the trick of his +fevered fancy? There, at his feet, not fifty yards from where he sat, +he beheld men, horses, guns, winding along in a narrow, unbroken line +as far as he could see. + +A great surging filled his ears, and through it he heard himself shout +once, twice, and yet a third time to the phantom army below. + +The surging swelled in his brain to a terrific tumult--a confusion +indescribable. And then something seemed to crack inside his head. +The dark peaks swayed giddily against the darkening sky, and toppled +inwards without sound. + +The last thing he knew was the call of a bugle, tense and shrill as +the buzz of a mosquito close to his ear. And he laughed aloud to think +how so small a thing had managed to deceive him. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +COMRADES + + +The jingling notes of a piano playing an air from a comic opera +floated cheerily forth into the magic silence of the Simla pines, and +abruptly, almost spasmodically, a cracked voice began to sing. It was +a sentimental ditty treated jocosely, and its frivolity rippled out +into the mid-day silence with something of the effect of a monkey's +chatter. The _khitmutgar_ on the verandah would have looked +scandalised or at best contemptuous had it not been his rôle to +express nothing but the dignified humility of the native servant. +He was waiting for his mistress to come out of the nursery where her +voice could be heard talking imperiously to her baby's _ayah_. He had +already waited some minutes, and he would probably have waited much +longer, for his patience was inexhaustible, had it not been for that +sudden irresponsible and wholly tuneless burst of song. But the +second line was scarcely ended before she came hurriedly forth, nearly +running into his stately person in her haste. + +"Oh, dear, Sammy!" she exclaimed with some annoyance. "Why didn't you +tell me Captain Ratcliffe was here?" + +She hastened past him along the verandah with the words, not troubling +about his explanation, and entered the room whence the music proceeded +at a run. + +"My dear Nick," she cried impulsively, "I had no idea!" + +The music ceased in a jangle of wrong notes, and Nick sprang to his +feet, his yellow face wearing a grin of irrepressible gaiety. + +"So I gathered, O elect lady," he rejoined, seizing her outstretched +hands and kissing first one and then the other. "And I took the first +method that presented itself of making myself known. So they beguiled +you to Simla, after all?" + +"Yes, I had to come for my baby's sake. They thought at first it would +have to be home and no compromise. I'm longing to show him to you, +Nick. Only six months, and such a pet already! But tell me about +yourself. I am sure you have come off the sick list too soon. You +look as if you had come straight from a lengthy stay with the +_bandar-log_." + +"_Tu quoque!_" laughed Nick. "And with far less excuse. Only you +manage to look charming notwithstanding, which is beyond me. Do you +know, Mrs. Musgrave, you don't do justice to the compromise? I should +be furious with you if I were Will." + +Mrs. Musgrave frowned at him. She was a very pretty woman, possessing +a dainty and not wholly unconscious charm. "Tell me about yourself, +Nick," she commanded. "And don't be ridiculous. You can't possibly +judge impartially on that head, as you haven't the smallest idea as to +how ill I have been. I am having a rest cure now, you must know, and I +don't go anywhere; or I should have come to see you in hospital." + +"Good thing you didn't take the trouble," said Nick. "I've been +sleeping for the last three weeks, and I am only just awake." + +Mrs. Musgrave looked at him with a very friendly smile. "Poor Nick!" +she said. "And Wara was relieved after all." + +He jerked up his shoulders. "After a fashion. Grange was the only +white man left, and he hadn't touched food for three days. If Muriel +Roscoe had stayed, she would have been dead before Bassett got +anywhere near them. There are times when the very fact of suffering +actively keeps people alive. It was that with her." + +He spoke briefly, almost harshly, and immediately turned from the +subject. "I suppose you were very anxious about your cousin?" + +"Poor Blake Grange? Of course I was. But I was anxious--horribly +anxious--about you all." There was a quiver of deep feeling in Mrs. +Musgrave's voice. + +"Thank you," said Nick. He reached out a skeleton finger and laid it +on her arm. "I thought you would be feeling soft-hearted, so I have +come to ask you a favour. Not that I shouldn't have come in any case, +but it seemed a suitable moment to choose." + +Mrs. Musgrave laughed a little. "Have you ever found me anything but +kind?" she questioned. + +"Never," said Nick. "You're the best pal I ever had, which is the +exact reason for my coming here to-day. Mrs. Musgrave, I want you to +be awfully good to Muriel Roscoe. She needs some one to help her along +just now." + +Mrs. Musgrave opened her eyes wide, but she said nothing at once, for +Nick had sprung to his feet and was restlessly pacing the room. + +"Come back, Nick," she said at last. "Tell me a little about her. We +have never met, you know. And why do you ask this of me when she is in +Lady Bassett's care?" + +"Lady Bassett!" said Nick. He made a hideous grimace, and said no +more. + +Mrs. Musgrave laughed. "How eloquent! Do you hate her, too, then? I +thought all men worshipped at that shrine." + +Nick came back and sat down. "I nearly killed her once," he said. + +"What a pity you didn't quite!" ejaculated Mrs. Musgrave. + +Nick grinned. "Sits the wind in that quarter? I wonder why." + +"Oh, I hate her by instinct," declared Mrs. Musgrave recklessly, +"though her scented notes to me always begin, 'Dearest Daisy'! She +always disapproved of me openly till baby came. But she has found +another niche for me now. I am not supposed to be so fascinating as I +was. She prefers unattractive women." + +"Gracious heaven!" interjected Nick. + +"Yes, you may laugh. I do myself." Daisy Musgrave spoke almost +fiercely notwithstanding. "She's years older than I am anyhow, and I +shall score some day if I don't now. Have you ever watched her dance? +There's a sort of snaky, coiling movement runs up her whole body. +Goodness!" breaking off abruptly. "I'm getting venomous myself. I had +better stop before I frighten you away." + +"Oh, don't mind me!" laughed Nick. "No one knows better than I +that she is made to twist all ways. She hates me as a cobra hates a +mongoose." + +"Really?" Daisy Musgrave was keenly interested. "But why?" + +He shook his head. "You had better ask Lady Bassett. It may be +because I had the misfortune to set fire to her once. It is true I +extinguished her afterwards, but I don't think she enjoyed it. It was +a humiliating process. Besides, it spoilt her dress." + +"But she is always so gracious to you," protested Daisy. + +"Honey-sweet. That's exactly how I know her cobra feelings. And that +brings me round to Muriel Roscoe again, and the favour I have to ask." + +Daisy shot him a sudden shrewd glance. "Do you want to marry her?" she +asked him point blank. + +Nick's colourless eyebrows went up till they nearly met his colourless +hair. "Dearest Daisy," he said, "you are a genius. I mean to do that +very thing." + +Daisy got up and softly closed the window. "Surely she is very young," +she said. "Is she in love with you?" + +She did not turn at the sound of his laugh. She had almost expected +it. For she knew Nick Ratcliffe as very few knew him. The bond of +sympathy between them was very strong. + +"Can you imagine any girl falling in love with me?" he asked. + +"Of course I can. You are not so unique as that. There isn't a man in +the universe that some woman couldn't be fool enough to love." + +"Many thanks!" said Nick. "Then--I may count upon your support, may +I? I know Lady Bassett will put a spoke in my wheel if she can. But I +have Sir Reginald's consent. He is Muriel's guardian, you know. Also, +I had her father's approval in the first place. It has got to be soon, +you see, Daisy. The present state of affairs is unbearable. She will +be miserable with Lady Bassett." + +Daisy still stood with her back to him. She was fidgeting with the +blind-cord, her pretty face very serious. + +"I am not sure," she said slowly, "that it lies in my power to help +you. Of course I am willing to do my best, because, as you say, we are +pals. But, Nick, she is very young. And if--if she really doesn't love +you, you mustn't ask me to persuade her." + +Nick sprang up impulsively. "Oh, but you don't understand," he said +quickly. "She would be happy enough with me. I would see to that. I--I +would be awfully good to her, Daisy." + +She turned swiftly at the unwonted quiver in his voice. "My dear +Nick," she said earnestly, "I am sure of it. You could make any woman +who loved you happy. But no one--no one--knows the misery that may +result from a marriage without love on both sides--except those who +have made one." + +There was something almost passionate in her utterance. But she turned +if off quickly with a smile and a friendly hand upon his arm. + +"Come," she said lightly. "I want to show you my boy. I left him +almost in tears. But he always smiles when he sees his mother." + +"Who doesn't?" said Nick gallantly, following her lead. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE SCHOOL OF SORROW + + +The aromatic scent of the Simla pines literally encircled and pervaded +the Bassetts' bungalow, penetrating to every corner. Lady Bassett was +wont to pronounce it "distractingly sweet," when her visitors drew +her attention to the fact. Hers was among the daintiest as well as the +best situated bungalows in Simla, and she was pleasantly aware of +a certain envy on the part of her many acquaintances, which added +a decided relish to the flavour of her own appreciation. But +notwithstanding this, she was hardly ever to be found at home except +by appointment. Her social engagements were so numerous that, as she +often pathetically remarked, she scarcely ever enjoyed the luxury of +solitude. As a hostess she was indefatigable, and being an excellent +bridge-player as well as a superb dancer, it was not surprising that +she occupied a fairly prominent position in her own select circle. +In appearance she was a woman of about five-and-thirty--though the +malicious added a full dozen years more to her credit--with fair hair, +a peculiarly soft voice, and a smile that was slightly twisted. She +was always exquisitely dressed, always cool, always gentle, never +hasty in word or deed. If she ever had reason to rebuke or snub, it +was invariably done with the utmost composure, but with deadly effect +upon the offender. Lady Bassett was generally acknowledged to be +unanswerable at such times by all but the very few who did not fear +her. + +There were not many who really felt at ease with her, and Muriel +Roscoe was emphatically not one of the number. Her father had +nominated Sir Reginald her guardian, and Sir Reginald, aware of this +fact, had sent her at once to his wife at Simla. The girl had been too +ill at the time to take any interest in her destination or ultimate +disposal. It was true that she had never liked Lady Bassett, that she +had ever felt shy and constrained in her presence, and that, had she +been consulted, she would probably have asked to be sent to England. +But Sir Reginald had been too absorbed in the task before him to spend +much thought on his dead comrade's child at that juncture, and he +had followed the simplest course that presented itself, allowing Nick +Ratcliffe to retain the privilege which General Roscoe himself had +bestowed. Thus Muriel had come at last into Lady Bassett's care, and +she was only just awaking to the fact that it was by no means the +guardianship she would have chosen for herself had she been in a +position to choose. As the elasticity of her youth gradually asserted +itself, and the life began to flow again in her veins, the power to +suffer returned to her, and in the anguish of her awakening faculties +she knew how utterly she was alone. It was in one sense a relief that +Lady Bassett, being caught in the full swing of the Simla season, was +unable to spare much of her society for the suddenly bereaved girl who +had been thrust upon her. But there were times during that period of +dragging convalescence when any presence would have been welcome. + +She was no longer acutely ill, but a low fever hung about her, a +species of physical inertia against which she had no strength to +struggle. And often she wondered to herself with a dreary amazement, +why she still lived, why she had survived the horrors of that flight +through the mountains, why she had been thus, as it were, cast up upon +a desert rock when all that had made life good in her eyes had been +ruthlessly swept away. At such times there would come upon her a +loneliness almost unthinkable, a shrinking more terrible than the fear +of death, and the future would loom before her black as night, a blank +and awful desert which she felt she could never dare to travel. + +Sometimes in her dreams there would come to her other visions--visions +of the gay world that throbbed so close to her, the world she had +entered with her father so short a time before. She would hear again +the hubbub of laughing voices, the music, the tramp of dancing feet. +And she would start from her sleep to find only a great emptiness, a +listening silence, an unspeakable desolation. + +If she ever thought of Nick in those days, it was as a phantom that +belonged to the nightmare that lay behind her. He had no part in her +present, and the future she could not bring herself to contemplate. No +one even mentioned his name to her till one day Lady Bassett entered +her room before starting for a garden-party at Vice-Regal Lodge, a +faint flush on her cheeks, and her blue eyes brighter than usual. + +"I have just received a note from Captain Ratcliffe, dear Muriel," +she said. "I have already mentioned to him that you are too unwell to +think of receiving any one at present, but he announces his intention +of paying you a visit notwithstanding. Perhaps you would like to write +him a note yourself, and corroborate what I have said." + +"Captain Ratcliffe!" Muriel echoed blankly, as though the name +conveyed nothing to her; and then with a great start as the blood +rushed to her white cheeks, "Oh, you mean Nick. I--I had almost +forgotten his other name. Does he want to see me? Is he in Simla +still?" + +She turned her hot face away with a touch of petulance from the +peculiar look with which Lady Bassett was regarding her. What did she +mean by looking at her so, she wondered irritably? + +There followed a pause, and Lady Bassett began to fasten her +many-buttoned gloves. + +"Of course, dear," she said gently, at length, "there is not the +smallest necessity for you to see him. Indeed, if my advice were +asked, I should recommend you not to do so; for after such a +terrible experience as yours, one cannot be too circumspect. It is so +perilously easy for rumours to get about. I will readily transmit a +message for you if you desire it, though I think on the whole it would +be more satisfactory if you were to write him a line yourself to say +that you cannot receive him." + +"Why?" demanded Muriel, with sudden unexpected energy. She turned back +again, and looked at Lady Bassett with a quick gleam that was almost a +challenge in her eyes. "Why should I not see him? After all, I suppose +I ought to thank him. Besides--besides--why should I not?" + +She could not have said what moved her to this unwonted +self-assertion. Had Lady Bassett required her to see Nick she would +probably have refused to do so, and listlessly dismissed the matter +from her mind. But there was that in Lady Bassett's manner which +roused her antagonism almost instinctively. But vaguely understanding, +she yet resented the soft-spoken words. Moreover, a certain +perversity, born of her weakness, urged her. What right had Lady +Bassett to deny her to any one? + +"When is he coming?" she asked. "I will see him when he comes." + +Lady Bassett yielded the point at once with the faintest possible +shrug. "As you wish, dear child, of course; but I do beg of you to be +prudent. He speaks of coming this afternoon. But would you not like +him to postpone his visit till I can be with you?" + +"No, I don't think so," Muriel said, with absolute simplicity. + +"Ah, well!" Lady Bassett spoke in the tone of one repudiating all +responsibility. She bent over the girl with a slightly wry smile, and +kissed her forehead. "Good-bye, dearest! I shouldn't encourage him to +stay long, if I were you. And I think you would be wise to call him +Captain Ratcliffe now that you are living a civilised life once more." + +Muriel turned her face aside with a species of bored patience that +could scarcely be termed tolerance. She did not understand these +veiled warnings, and she cared too little for Lady Bassett and her +opinions to trouble herself about them. She had never liked her, +though she knew that her father had conscientiously tried to do so for +the sake of his friend, Sir Reginald. + +As Lady Bassett went away she rubbed the place on her forehead which +her cold lips had touched. "If she only knew how I hate being kissed!" +she murmured to herself. + +And then with an effort she rose and moved wearily across the room to +ring the bell. Since by some unaccountable impulse she had decided to +see Nick, it might be advisable, she reflected, to give her own orders +regarding his visit. + +Having done so, she lay down again. But she did not sleep. Sleep was +an elusive spirit in those days. It sometimes seemed to her that she +was too worn out mentally and physically ever to rest naturally again. + +Nearly an hour passed away while she lay almost unconsciously +listening. And then suddenly, with a sense of having experienced it +all long before, there came to her the sound of careless footsteps and +of a voice that hummed. + +It went through her heart like a sword-thrust as she called to mind +that last night at Fort Wara when she had clung to her father for the +last time, and had heard him bid her good-bye--till they should meet +again. + +With a choked sensation she rose, and stood steadying herself by the +back of the sofa. Could she go through this interview? Could she bear +it? Her heart was beating in heavy, sickening throbs. For an instant +she almost thought of escaping and sending word that she was not equal +to seeing any one, as Lady Bassett had already intimated. But even as +the impulse flashed through her brain, she realised that it was +too late. The shadow of the native servant had already darkened the +window, and she knew that Nick was just behind him on the verandah. +With a great, sobbing gasp, she turned herself to meet him. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE EAGLE SWOOPS + + +He came in as lightly and unceremoniously as though they had parted +but the day before, a smile of greeting upon his humorous, yellow +face, words of careless good-fellowship upon his lips. + +He took her hand for an instant, and she felt rather than saw that +he gave her a single, scrutinising glance from under eyelids that +flickered incessantly. + +"I see you are better," he said, "so I won't put you to the trouble +of saying so. I suppose dear Lady Bassett has gone to the Vice-Regal +garden-party. But it's all right. I told her I was coming. Did you +have to persuade her very hard to let you see me?" + +Muriel stiffened a little at this inquiry. Her agitation was rapidly +subsiding. It left her vaguely chilled, even disappointed. She had +forgotten how cheerily inconsequent Nick could be. + +"I didn't persuade her at all," she said coldly. "I simply told her +that I should see you in order--" + +"Yes?" queried Nick, looking delighted. "In order--" + +To her annoyance she felt herself flushing. With a gesture of +weariness she dismissed the sentence and sat down. She had meant to +make him a brief and gracious speech of gratitude for his past care of +her, but somehow it stuck in her throat. Besides, it was quite obvious +that he did not expect it. + +He came and sat down beside her on the sofa. "Let's talk things over," +he said. "You are out of the doctor's hands, I'm told." + +Muriel was leaning back against the cushions. She did not raise her +heavy eyes to answer. "Oh, yes, ever so long ago. I'm quite well, only +rather tired still." + +She frowned slightly as she gave this explanation. Though his face +was not turned in her direction, she had a feeling that he was still +closely observant of her. + +He nodded to himself twice while he listened and then suddenly he +reached out and laid his hand upon both of hers as they rested in her +lap. "I'm awfully pleased to hear you are quite well," he said, in +a voice that seemed to crack on a note of laughter. "It makes my +business all the easier. I've come to ask you, dear, how soon you can +possibly make it convenient to marry me. To-day? To-morrow? Next week? +I don't of course want to hurry you unduly, but there doesn't seem to +be anything to wait for. And--personally--I abhor waiting. Don't you?" + +He turned towards her with the last words. He had spoken very gently, +but there seemed to be an element of humour in all that he said. + +Muriel's eyes were wide open by the time he ended. She was staring +at him in blank astonishment. The flush on her face had deepened to +crimson. + +"Marry you?" she gasped at length, stammering in her confusion. "I? +Why--why--whatever made you dream of such a thing?" + +"I'll tell you," said Nick instantly, and quite undismayed. "I dreamed +that a certain friend of mine was lonely and heart-sick and sad. And +she wanted--horribly--some one to come and take care of her, to cheer +her up, to lift her over the bad places, to give her things which, if +they couldn't compensate for all she had lost, would be anyhow a bit +of a comfort to her. And then I remembered how she belonged to me, how +she had been given to me by her own father to cherish and care for. +And so I plucked up courage to intrude upon her while she was still +wallowing in her Slough of Despair. And I didn't pester her with +preliminaries. We're past that stage, you and I, Muriel. I simply came +to her because it seemed absurd to wait any longer. And I just asked +her humble-like to fix a day when we would get up very early, and +bribe the padre and sweet Lady Bassett to do likewise, and have a +short--very short--service all to ourselves at church, and when it was +over we would just say good-bye to all kind friends and depart. Won't +you give the matter your serious consideration? Believe me, it is +worth it." + +He still held her hand closely in his while he poured out his rapid +explanation, and his eyebrows worked up and down so swiftly that +Muriel was fascinated by them. His eyes baffled her completely. They +were like a glancing flame. She listened to his proposal with more +of bewilderment than consternation. It took her breath away without +exactly frightening her. The steady grasp of his hand and the +exceedingly practical tones of his voice kept her from unreasoning +panic; but she was too greatly astounded to respond very promptly. + +"Tell me what you think about it," he said gently. + +But she was utterly at a loss to describe her feelings. She shook her +head and was silent. + +After a little he went on, still quickly, but with less impetuosity. +"It isn't just a sudden fancy of mine--this. Don't think it. There's +nothing capricious about me. Your father knew about it. And because he +knew, he put you in my care. It was his sole reason for trusting you +to me. I had his full approval." + +He paused, for her fingers had closed suddenly within his own. She +was looking at him no longer. Her memory had flashed back to that last +terrible night of her father's life. Again she heard him telling her +of the one man to whom he had entrusted her, who would make it his +sole business to save her, who would protect her life with his own, +heard his speculative question as to whether she knew whom he meant, +recalled her own quick reply, and his answer--and his answer. + +With a sudden sense of suffocation, she freed her hand and rose. Once +more her old aversion to this man swept over her in a nauseating wave. +Once more there rose before her eyes the dread vision which for many, +many nights had haunted her persistently, depriving her of all +rest, all peace of mind--the vision of a man in his death-struggle, +fighting, agonising, under those merciless fingers. + +It was more than she could bear. She covered her eyes, striving to +shut out the sight that tortured her weary brain. "Oh, I don't know if +I can!" she almost wailed. "I don't know if I can!" + +Nick did not move. And yet it seemed to her in those moments of +reawakened horror as if by some magnetic force he still held her fast. +She strove against it with all her frenzied strength, but it eluded +her, baffled her--conquered her. + +When he spoke at length, she turned and listened, lacking the +motive-power to resist. + +"There is nothing to frighten you anyhow," he said, and the tone in +which he said it was infinitely comforting, infinitely reassuring. "I +only want to take care of you; for you're a lonely little soul, not +old enough, or wise enough to look after yourself. And I'll be awfully +good to you, Muriel, if you'll have me." + +Something in those last words--a hint of pleading, of coaxing +even--found its way to her heart, as it were, against her will. +Moreover, what he said was true. She was lonely: miserably, +unspeakably lonely. All her world was in ashes around her, and there +were times when its desolation positively appalled her. + +But still she stood irresolute. Could she, dared she, take this step? +What if that phantom of horror pursued her relentlessly to the day of +her death? Would she not come in time to shrink with positive loathing +from this man whose offer of help she now felt so strangely tempted in +her utter friendlessness to accept? + +It was impossible to answer these tormenting questions satisfactorily. +But there was nothing--so she told herself--to be gained by waiting. +She had no one to advise her, no one really to mind what happened to +her, with the single exception of this friend of hers, who only +wanted to take care of her. And after all, since misery was to be her +portion, what did it matter? Why should she refuse to listen to him? +Had he not shown her already that he could be kind? + +A sudden warmth of gratitude towards him stirred in her heart--a tiny +flame springing up among the ashes of her youth. Her horror sank away +like an evil dream. + +She turned round with a certain deliberation that had grown upon her +of late, and went back to Nick still seated on the sofa. + +"I don't care much what I do now," she said wearily. "I will marry +you, if you wish it, if--if you are quite sure you will never wish you +hadn't." + +"Well done!" said Nick, with instant approval. "That's settled then, +for I was quite sure of that ages ago." + +He smiled at her quizzically, his face a mask of banter. Of what his +actual feelings were at that moment she had not the faintest idea. + +With a piteous little smile in answer she laid her hand upon his knee. +"You will have to be very patient with me," she said tremulously. "For +remember--I have come to the end of everything, and you are the only +friend I have left." + +He took her hand into his own again, with a grasp that was warm and +comforting. "My dear," he said very kindly, "I shall always remember +that you once told me so." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE FIRST FLIGHT + + +Muriel lay awake for hours that night, going over and over that +interview with Nick till her tired brain reeled. She was not exactly +frightened by this new element that had come into her life. The very +fact of having something definite to look forward to was a relief +after dwelling for so long in the sunless void of non-expectancy. But +she was by no means sure that she welcomed so violent a disturbance at +the actual heart of her darkened existence. She could not, moreover, +wholly forget her fear of the man who had saved her by main force from +the fate she would fain have shared with her father. His patience--his +almost womanly gentleness--notwithstanding, she could not forget +the demon of violence and bloodshed that she knew to be hidden away +somewhere behind that smiling, yellow mask. + +She marvelled at herself for her tame surrender, but she felt it to +be irrevocable nevertheless. So broken was she by adversity, that she +lacked the energy to resist him or even to desire to do so. She tried +to comfort herself with the thought that she was carrying out her +father's wishes for her; but this did not take her very far. She could +not help the doubt arising as to whether he had ever really gauged +Nick's exceedingly elusive character. + +Tired out, at last she slept, and dreamed that an eagle had caught her +and was bearing her swiftly, swiftly, through wide spaces to his eyrie +in the mountains. + +It was a long, breathless flight fraught with excitement and a +nameless exultation that pierced her like pain. She awoke from it +with a cry that was more of disappointment than relief, and started up +gasping to hear horses' hoofs dancing in the compound below her window +to the sound of a cracked, hilarious voice. + +She almost laughed as she realised what it was, and in a moment all +her misgivings of the night vanished like wraiths of the darkness. +He had extracted a promise from her to ride with him at dawn, and he +meant to keep her to it. She got up and pulled aside the blind. + +A wild view-halloa greeted her, and she dropped it again sharply; +but not before she had seen Nick prancing about the drive on a giddy, +long-limbed Waler, and making frantic signs to her to join him. +Another horse with a side-saddle was waiting, held by a grinning +little _saice_. The sun was already rising rapidly behind the +mountains. She began to race through her toilet at a speed that showed +her to have caught some of the fever of her cavalier's impatience. + +She wondered what Lady Bassett thought of the disturbance (Lady +Bassett never rose early), and nearly laughed aloud. + +Hastening out at length she found Nick dismounted and waiting for her +by the verandah-steps. He sprang up to meet her with an eager whoop of +greeting. + +"Hope you enjoyed my serenade. Come along! There's no time to waste. +Jakko turned red some minutes ago. Were you asleep?" + +Muriel admitted the fact. + +"And dreaming of me," he rattled on, "as was sweet and proper?" + +She did not answer, and he laughed like a boy, rudely but not +insolently. + +"Didn't I know it? Jump up! We're going to have a glorious gallop. +I've brought some slabs of chocolate to keep you from starvation. +Ready? Heave ho! My dear girl, you're disgracefully light still. Why +don't you eat more?" + +"You're as thin as a herring yourself," Muriel retorted, with a most +unwonted flash of spirit. + +He lifted his grinning face to her as she settled herself in the +saddle, and then uncovering swiftly he bent and kissed the black cloth +of her habit, humbly, reverently, as became a slave. + +It sent a queer thrill through her, that kiss of his. She felt that +it was in some fashion a revelation; but she was still too blinded by +groping in dark places to understand its message. As they trotted side +by side out of the compound, she knew her face was burning, and turned +it aside that he might not see. + +It was a wonderful morning. There was intoxication in the scent of the +pines. The whole atmosphere seemed bewitched. They gave their horses +the rein and raced with the wind through an enchanted world. It was +the wildest, most alluring ride that she had ever known, and when Nick +called a halt at last she protested with a flushed face and sparkling +eyes. + +Nevertheless, it was good to sit and watch the rapid transformation +that the sun-god was weaving all about them. She saw the spurs of +Jakko fade from pink to purest amber, and then in the passage of a +few seconds gleam silver in the flood of glory that topped the highest +crests. And her heart fluttered oddly at the sight, while again she +thought of the eagle of her dream, cleaving the wide spaces, and +bearing her also. + +She glanced round for Nick, but he had wheeled his horse and was +staring out towards the plains. She wondered what was passing in his +mind, for he sat like a statue, his face turned from her. And suddenly +the dread loneliness of the mountains gripped her as with a chilly +hand. It seemed as if they two were alone together in all the world. + +She walked over to him. "I'm cold, Nick," she said, breaking in upon +his silence almost apologetically. "Shall we go?" + +He stretched out a hand to her without turning his head, without +speaking. But she would not put her own within it, for she was afraid. + +After a long pause he gave a sudden sharp sigh, and pulled his horse +round. "Eh? Cold? We'll fly down to Annandale. There's plenty of +time before us. By the way, I want to introduce you to a friend of +mine--Daisy Musgrave. Ever heard of her? She and Blake Grange are +first cousins. You'll like Daisy. We are great chums, she and I." + +Muriel had heard of her from Captain Grange. She had also once upon a +time met Daisy's husband. + +"I liked him, rather," she said. "But I thought he must be very +young." + +"So he is," said Nick. "A mere infant. He's in the Civil Service, and +works like an ox. Mrs. Musgrave is very delicate. She and the baby +were packed off up here in a hurry. I believe she has a weak heart. +She may have to go home to recruit even now. She doesn't go out at all +herself, but she hopes I will take you to see her. Will you come?" + +Muriel hesitated for a moment. "Nick," she said, "are you +telling--everybody--of our--engagement?" + +"Of course," said Nick, instantly. "Why not?" + +She could not tell him, only she was vaguely dismayed. + +"I told Lady Bassett yesterday evening," he went on. "Didn't she say +anything to you?" + +"Oh, yes. She kissed me and said she was very pleased." Muriel's +cheeks burned at the recollection. + +"How nice of her!" commented Nick. He shot her a sidelong glance. +"Dear Lady Bassett always says and does the right thing at the right +moment. It's her speciality. That's why we are all so fond of her." + +Muriel made no response, though keenly aware of the subtlety of this +speech. So Nick disliked her hostess also. She wondered why. + +"You see," he proceeded presently, "it is as well to be quite open +about it as we are going to be married so soon. Of course every one +realises that it is to be a strictly private affair. You needn't be +afraid of any demonstration." + +It was not that that had induced her feeling of dismay, but she could +not tell him so. + +"And Mrs. Musgrave knows?" she questioned. + +"I told her first," said Nick. "But you mustn't mind her. She won't +commit the fashionable blunder of congratulating you." + +Muriel laughed nervously. She longed to say something careless and +change the subject, but she was feeling stiff and unnatural, and words +failed her. + +Nick brought his horse up close to hers. + +"There's one thing I want to say to you, Muriel, before we go down," +he said. + +"Oh, what?" She turned a scared face towards him. + +"Nothing to alarm you," said Nick, frowning at her quizzically. "I +wanted to say it some minutes ago only I was shy. Look here, dear." He +held out to her a twist of tissue-paper on the palm of his hand. "It's +a ring I want you to wear for me. There's a message inside it. Read it +when you are alone." + +Muriel looked at the tiny packet without taking it. She had turned +very white. "Oh, Nick," she faltered at last, "are you--are you--quite +sure?" + +"Quite sure of what?" questioned Nick. "Your mind? Or my own?" + +"Don't!" she begged tremulously. "I can't laugh over this." + +"Laugh!" said Nick sharply. And then swiftly his whole manner changed. +"Yes, it's all right, dear," he said, smiling at her. "Take it, won't +you? I am--quite--sure." + +She took it obediently, but her reluctance was still very manifest. +Nick, however, did not appear to notice this. + +"Don't look at it now," he said. "Wait till I'm not there. Put it away +somewhere for the present, and let's have another gallop." + +She glanced at him as she slipped his gift into her pocket. "Won't you +let me thank you, Nick?" she asked shyly. + +"Wait till you've seen it," he returned. "You may not think it worth +it. Ready? One! Two! Three!" + +In the scamper that followed, the blood surged back to her face, and +her spirits rose again; but in her secret heart there yet remained a +nameless dread that she was as powerless to define as to expel. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MESSAGE + + +Lady Bassett was still invisible when Muriel returned to the bungalow +though breakfast was waiting for them on the verandah. She passed +quickly through to her room and commenced hasty preparations for a +bath. It had been a good ride, and she realised that, though tired, +she was also very hungry. + +She slipped Nick's gift out of the pocket of her riding-habit, but she +would not stop to open it then. That should come presently, when +she had the whole garden to herself, and all the leisure of the long +summer morning before her. She felt that in a sense she owed him that. + +But a note that caught her eye lying on the table she paused to open +and hastily peruse. The writing was unfamiliar to her--a dashing, +impetuous scrawl that excited her curiosity. + +"Dear Miss Roscoe," it ran,--"Don't think me an unmitigated bore if +you can help it. I am wondering if you would have the real kindness +to waive ceremony and pay me a visit this afternoon. I shall be quite +alone, unless my baby can be considered in the light of a social +inducement. I know that Nick contemplates bringing you to see me, and +so he shall, if you prefer it. But personally I consider that he would +be decidedly _de trop_. I feel that we shall soon know each other so +well that a formal introduction seems superfluous. Let me know your +opinion by word of mouth, or if not, I shall understand. Nick, being +of the inferior species, could hardly be expected to do so, though I +admit that he is more generously equipped in the matter of intellect +than most.--Your friend to be, + +"Daisy Musgrave." + +Muriel laid down the letter with a little smile. Its spontaneous +friendliness was like a warm hand clasping hers. Yes, she would go, +she decided, as she splashed refreshingly in her bath, and that not +for Nick's sake. She knew instinctively that she was going to discover +a close sympathy with this woman who, though an utter stranger to her, +yet knew how to draw her as a sister. And Muriel's longing for such +human fellowship had already driven her to extremes. + +She had the note in her hand when she finally joined Lady Bassett upon +the verandah. + +Lady Bassett, though ever-gracious, was seldom at her best in the +morning. She greeted the girl with a faint, wry smile, and proffered +her nearest cheek to be kissed. + +"Quite an early bird, dear child!" was her comment. "I should imagine +Captain Ratcliffe's visitation awakened the whole neighbourhood. I +think you must not go out again with him before sunrise. I should not +have advised it this morning if you had consulted me." + +Muriel flushed at the softly-conveyed reproof. "It is not the first +time," she said, in her deep voice that was always deepest when +indignation moved her. "We have seen the sun rise together and the +moon rise too, before to-day." + +Lady Bassett sighed gently. "I am sure, dearest," she said, "that you +do not mean to be uncouth or unmannerly, far less--that most odious +of all propensities in a young girl--forward. But though my authority +over you were to be regarded as so slight as to be quite negligible, I +should still feel it my duty to remonstrate when I saw you committing +a breach of the conventions which might be grievously misconstrued. I +trust, dear Muriel, that you will bear my protest in mind and regulate +your actions by it in the future. Will you take coffee?" + +Muriel had seated herself at the other side of the table, and was +regarding her with wide, dark eyes that were neither angry nor +ashamed, only quite involuntarily disdainful. + +After a distinct pause she decided to let the matter drop, reflecting +that Lady Bassett's subtleties were never worth pursuing. + +"I am going to see a friend of Nick's this afternoon," she said +presently. "I expect you know her--Mrs. Musgrave." + +Lady Bassett's forehead puckered a little. It could hardly be called a +frown. "Have you ever met Mrs. Musgrave?" she asked. + +"No, never. But she is Nick's friend, and of course I know her cousin, +Captain Grange, quite well." + +Lady Bassett made no comment upon this. "Of course, dear," she said, +"you are old enough to please yourself, but it is not usual, you +know, to plunge into social pleasures after so recent a bereavement as +yours." + +The sudden silence that followed this gentle reminder had in it +something that was passionate. Muriel's face turned vividly crimson, +and then gradually whitened to a startling pallor. + +"It is the last thing I should wish to do," she said, in a stifled +voice. + +Lady Bassett continued, softly suggestive. "I say nothing of your +marriage, dear child. For that, I am aware, is practically a matter +of necessity. But I do think that under the circumstances you can +scarcely be too careful in what you do. Society is not charitably +inclined towards those who even involuntarily transgress its rules. +And you most emphatically are not in a position to do so wilfully." + +She paused, for Muriel had risen unexpectedly to her feet. Her eyes +were blazing in her white face. + +"Why should you call my marriage a matter of necessity?" she demanded. +"Sir Reginald told me that my father had provided for me." + +"Of course, of course, dear." Lady Bassett uttered a faint, artificial +laugh. "It is not a question of means at all. But, there, since you +are so childishly unsophisticated, I need not open your eyes. It is +enough for you to know that there is a sufficiently urgent reason for +your marriage, and the sooner it can take place, the better. But in +the meantime, let me counsel you to be as prudent as possible in all +that you do. I assure you, dear, it is very necessary." + +Muriel received this little homily in silence. She did not in the +least understand to what these veiled allusions referred, and +she decided impatiently that they were unworthy of her serious +consideration. It was ridiculous to let herself be angry with Lady +Bassett. As if it mattered in the least what she said or thought! She +determined to pay her projected visit notwithstanding, and quietly +said so, as she turned at length from the table. + +Lady Bassett raised no further remonstrance beyond a faint, eloquent +lift of the shoulders. And Muriel went away into the shady compound, +her step firmer and her dark head decidedly higher than usual. She +felt for Nick's gift as she went, with a little secret sensation of +pleasure. After all, why had she been afraid? All girls wore rings +when they became engaged to be married. + +Reaching her favourite corner, she drew it forth from its +hiding-place, a quiver of excitement running through her. + +She was sitting in the hammock under the pines as she unwrapped it. +The hot sunshine, glinting through the dark boughs overhead, flashed +upon precious stones and dazzled her as the wisp of tissue-paper fell +from her hand. + +And in a moment she was looking at an old marquise ring of rubies in +a setting of finely-wrought gold. Her heart gave a throb of sheer +delight at the beauty of the thing. She slipped it impetuously on to +her finger, and held it up to the sunlight. + +The rubies shone with a deep lustre--red, red as heart's blood, ardent +as flame. She gazed and gazed with sparkling, fascinated eyes. + +Suddenly his words flashed into her mind. A message inside it! She had +been so caught by the splendour of the stones that she had not looked +inside. She drew the ring from her finger, and examined it closely, +with burning cheeks. + +Yes, there was the message--three words engraved in minute, +old-fashioned characters inside the gold band. They were so tiny that +it took her a long time to puzzle them out. With difficulty at length +she deciphered the quaint letters, but even then it was some time +before she grasped the meaning that they spelt. + +It flashed upon her finally, as though a voice had spoken into her +ear. The words were: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. And the ring in her hand +was no longer the outward visible sign of her compact. It was a +love-token, given to her by a man who had spoken no word of love. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE VOICE OF A FRIEND + + +"So you didn't bring Nick after all. That was nice of you," said Daisy +Musgrave, with a little, whimsical smile. "I wanted to have you all to +myself. The nicest of men can be horribly in the way sometimes." + +She smiled upon her visitor whom she had placed in the easiest chair +and in the pleasantest corner of her drawing-room. Her pretty face was +aglow with friendliness. No words of welcome were needed. + +Muriel was already feeling happier than she had felt for many, many +weary weeks. It had been an effort to come, but she was glad that she +had made it. + +"It was kind of you to ask me," she said, "though of course I know +that you did it for Nick's sake." + +"You are quite wrong," Daisy answered instantly. "He told me about +you, I admit. But after that, I wanted you for your own. And now I +have got you, Muriel, I am not going to stand on ceremony the least +bit in the world. And you mustn't either; but I can see you won't. +Your eyes are telling me things already. I don't get on with stiff +people somehow. Lady Bassett calls me effusive. And I think myself +there must have been something meteoric about my birth star. Doubtless +that is why I agree so well with Nick. He's meteoric, too." She +slipped cosily down upon a stool by Muriel's side. "He's a nice boy, +isn't he?" she said sympathetically. "And is that his ring? Ah, let +me look at it! I think I have seen it before. No, don't take it off! +That's unlucky." + +But Muriel had already drawn it from her finger. "It's beautiful," she +said warmly. "Do you know anything about it? It looks as if it had a +history." + +"It has," said Daisy. "I remember now. He showed it to me once when I +was staying at his brother's house in England. I know the Ratcliffes +well. My husband used to live with them as a boy. It came from the old +maiden aunt who left him all his money. She gave it to him before she +died, I believe, and told him to keep it for the woman he was sure to +love some day. Nick was an immense favourite of hers." + +"But the ring?" urged Muriel. + +Daisy was frowning over the inscription within it, but she was fully +aware of the soft colour that had flooded the girl's face at her +words. + +"OMNIA VINCIT AMOR," she read slowly. "That is it, isn't it? Ah, yes, +and the history of it. It's rather sad. Do you mind?" + +"I am used to sad things," Muriel reminded her, with her face turned +away toward the mountains. + +Daisy pressed her hand gently. "It is a French ring," she said. "It +belonged to an aristocrat who was murdered in the Reign of Terror. +He sent it by his servant to the girl he loved from the steps of the +guillotine. I don't know their names. Nick didn't tell me that. But +she was English." + +Muriel had turned quickly back. Her interest was aroused. "Yes," she +said eagerly, as Daisy paused. "And she?" + +"She!" Daisy's voice had a sudden hard ring in it. "She remained +faithful to him for just six months. And then she married an +Englishman. It was said that she did it against her will. Still she +did it. Luckily for her, perhaps, she died within the year--when her +child was born." + +Daisy rose abruptly and moved across the room. "That was more than a +hundred years ago," she said, "and women are as great fools still. If +they can't marry the man they love--they'll marry--anything." + +Muriel was silent. She felt as if she had caught sight of something +that she had not been intended to see. + +But in a moment Daisy came back, and, kneeling beside her, slipped the +ring on to her finger again. "Yet love conquers all the same, dear," +she said, passing her arm about the girl. "And yours is going to be +a happy love story. The ring came finally into the possession of the +lady's grandson, and it was he who gave it to Nick's aunt--the maiden +aunt. It was her engagement ring. She never wore any other, and she +only gave it to Nick when her fingers were too rheumatic to wear it +any longer. Her lover, poor boy, was killed in the Crimea. There! +Forgive me if I have made you sad. Death is not really sad, you +know, where there is love. People talk of it as if it conquered love, +whereas it is in fact all the other way round. Love conquers death." + +Muriel hid her face suddenly on Daisy's shoulder. "Oh, are you quite +sure?" she whispered. + +"I am quite sure, darling." The reply was instant and full of +conviction. "It doesn't need a good woman to be quite sure of that. +Over and over again it has been the only solid thing I have had to +hold by. I've clung to it blindly in outer darkness, God only knows +how often." + +Her arms tightened about Muriel, and she fell silent. For minutes the +room was absolutely quiet. Then Muriel raised her head. + +"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much." + +Her eyes were full of tears as her lips met Daisy's, but she brushed +them swiftly away before they fell. + +Daisy was smiling at her. "Come," she said, "I want to show you my +baby. He is just the wee-est bit fractious, as he is cutting a tooth. +The doctor says he will be all right, but he still threatens to send +us both to England." + +"And you don't want to go?" questioned Muriel. + +Daisy shook her head. "I want to see my cousin Blake," she said +lightly, "when he comes marching home again. Did you hear the rumour +that he is to have the V.C.? They ought to give it to Nick, too, if he +does." + +"Oh, I shouldn't think so. Nick didn't do anything. At least," Muriel +stumbled a little, "nothing to be proud of." + +Daisy laughed and caught her face between her hands. "Except save his +girl from destruction," she said. "Doesn't that count? Oh, Muriel, I +know exactly what made him want you. No, you needn't be afraid. I'm +not going to tell you. Wild horses sha'n't drag it from me. But he's +the luckiest man in India, and I think he knows it. What lovely hair +you have! I'll come round early on your wedding-day and do it for +you. And what will you wear? It mustn't be a black wedding whatever +etiquette may decree. You look too pathetic in black, and it's a +barbarous custom anyway. I have warned my husband fairly that if he +goes into mourning for me, I'll never speak to him hereafter again. +He is coming up to see us next week, and to discuss our fate with the +doctor. Have you ever met Will?" + +"Once," said Muriel. "It was at a dance at Poonah early last summer." + +"Ah! When I was at Mahableshwar. He is a good dancer, isn't he? He +does most things well, I think." + +Daisy smiled tolerantly as she indicated the photograph of a boy +upon the mantelpiece. "He isn't sixteen," she said; "he is nearly +twenty-eight. Now come and see his son and the light of my eyes." She +linked her arm in Muriel's, and, still smiling, led her from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE POISON OF ADDERS + + +The week that followed that first visit of hers was a gradual renewal +of life to Muriel. She had come through the darkest part of her +trouble, and, thick though the shadows might still lie about her, she +had at last begun to see light ahead. She went again and yet again to +see Daisy, and each visit added to her tranquillity of mind. Daisy was +wonderfully brisk for an invalid, and her baby was an endless source +of interest. Even Lady Bassett could not cavil when her charge spoke +of going to nursery tea at Mrs. Musgrave's. She made no attempt to +check the ripening friendship, though Muriel was subtly aware that she +did not approve of it. + +She also went every morning for a headlong gallop with Nick who, in +fact, would take no refusal in the matter. He came not at all to the +house except for these early visits, and she had a good many hours +to herself. But her health was steadily improving, and her loneliness +oppressed her less than formerly. She spent long mornings lying in the +hammock under the pines with only an occasional monkey far above her +to keep her company. It was her favourite haunt, and she grew to look +upon it as exclusively her own. There was a tiny rustic summer-house +near it, which no one ever occupied, so far as she knew. Moreover, +the hammock had been decorously slung behind it, so that even though +a visitor might conceivably penetrate as far as the arbour, it was +extremely unlikely that the hammock would come into the range of +discovery. + +Even Lady Bassett had never sought her here, her time being generally +quite fully occupied with her countless social engagements. Muriel +often wondered that that garden on the mountainside in which she +revelled seemed to hold so slight an attraction for its owner. But +then of course Lady Bassett was so much in demand that she had little +leisure to admire the beauties that surrounded her. + +Growing daily stronger, Muriel's half-childish panic regarding her +approaching marriage as steadily diminished. She enjoyed her rides +with Nick, becoming daily more and more at her ease with him. They +seldom touched upon intimate matters. She wore his ring, and once +she shyly thanked him for it. But he made no further reference to the +words engraved within it, and she was relieved by his forbearance. + +Nick, on his part, was visiting Daisy Musgrave every day, and +sedulously imbibing her woman's wisdom. He had immense faith in her +insight and her intuition, and when she entreated him to move +slowly and without impatience he took a sterner grip of himself and +resolutely set himself to cultivate the virtue she urged upon him. + +"You mustn't do anything in a hurry," Daisy assured him, "either +before your marriage or after. She has had a very bad shock, and she +is only just getting over it. You will throw everything back if you +try to precipitate matters. She is asleep, you know, Nick, and it is +for you to waken her, but gradually--oh, very gradually--or she will +start up in the old nightmare terror again. If she doesn't love you +yet, she is very near it. But you will only win her by waiting for +her. Never do anything sudden. Always remember what a child she is, +though she has outgrown her years. And children, you know, though they +will trust those they love to the uttermost, are easily frightened." + +Nick knew that she was right. He knew also that he was steadily +gaining ground, and that knowledge helped him more than all Daisy's +counsels. He was within sight, so he felt, of the great consummation +of all his desires, and he was drawing daily nearer. + +Their wedding-day was little more than a week away. He had already +made full preparation for it. It was to be as quiet a ceremony as it +was possible to arrange. Daisy Musgrave had promised to be there, and +he expected her husband also. Lady Bassett, whose presence he realised +with a grimace to be indispensable, would complete the wedding-party. + +He had arranged to leave Simla directly the service was over, and to +go into Nepal. It would not be his first visit to that most wonderful +country, and it held many things that he desired to show her. He +expected much from that wedding journey, from the close companionship, +the intimacy that must result. He would teach her first beyond all +doubting that she had nothing to fear, and then--then at last, as +the reward of infinite patience, he would win her love. His blood +quickened whenever he thought of it. Alone with her once more among +the mountains, in perfect security, surrounded by the glory of the +eternal snows, so he would win her. They would come back closely +united, equipped to face the whole world hand-in-hand, so joined +together that no shadow of evil could ever come between them any more. +For they would be irrevocably made one. Thus ran the current of +his splendid dream, and for this he curbed himself, mastered his +eagerness, controlled his passion. + +On the day that Daisy's husband arrived, he considerately absented +himself from their bungalow, knowing how the boy loved to have his +wife to himself. He had in consequence the whole afternoon at +his disposal, and he contemplated paying a surprise visit to his +betrothed. He had ridden with her that morning, and he did not doubt +that she was to be found somewhere in Lady Bassett's compound. So in +fact she was, and had he carried out his first intention, he would +have explored behind the summer-house and found her in her retreat. +But he did not after all pay his projected visit. A very small matter +frustrated his plans--a matter of no earthly importance, but which he +always looked upon afterwards as a piece of the devil's own handiwork. +He remembered some neglected correspondence, and decided to clear it +off. She would not be expecting him, possibly she might not welcome +his intrusion. And so, in consequence of that rigid self-restraint +that he was practising, he suffered this latter reflection to sway +him in the direction of his unanswered letters, and sat down to his +writing-table with a strong sense of virtue, utterly unsuspicious of +the evil which even at that moment was drawing near imperceptibly but +surely to the girl he loved. + +She was lying in her hammock with an unread book on her knees. It +was a slumberous afternoon, making for drowsiness. The mountains were +wrapped in a vague haze, and the whole world was very still. Very far +overhead, the pines occasionally whispered to one another, but below +there was no movement, save when a lizard scuttled swiftly over the +pine-needles, and once when an enquiring monkey-face peered at her +round the red bole of a pine. + +It was all very restful, and Muriel was undeniably sleepy. She had +ridden farther than usual with Nick that morning, and it did not take +much to tire her. Lady Bassett had gone to a polo-match, she knew, and +she luxuriated in undisturbed solitude. It lay all about her like +a spell of enchantment. With her cheek pillowed on her hand she +presently floated into serene slumber. It was like drifting down a +tidal river into a summer sea.... + +Her awakening was abrupt, almost startling. She felt as if some +one had touched her, though she realised In a moment that this was +impossible; for she was still alone. No one was in sight. Only from +the arbour a few feet away there came the sound of voices, and the +tinkle of tea-cups. + +Visitors evidently! Lady Bassett had returned and brought back a +couple of guests with her. She frowned impatiently over the discovery, +realising that she was a prisoner unless she elected to show herself. +For her corner behind the summer-house was bounded by the wall of the +compound, and there was no retreat save by the path that led to the +bungalow, and this wound in front of the arbour itself. + +It was very annoying, but there was no help for it. She knew very +few people in Simla, and neither of the voices that mingled with Lady +Bassett's was familiar to her. It did not take her long to decide that +she had no desire for a closer acquaintance with their owners. One +was a man's voice, sonorous and weighty, that sounded as if it were +accustomed to propound mighty problems from the pulpit. The other was +a woman's, high-pitched as the wail of a cat on a windy night, that +caused the listening girl to nestle back on her pillow with the +instant resolution to remain where she was until the intruders saw fit +to depart, even if by so doing she had to forego her tea. + +She opened her book with an unwarrantable feeling of resentment. Of +course Lady Bassett could not know she was there, and of course she +was at liberty to go whither she would in her own garden. But no one +likes to have their cherished privacy invaded even in ignorance. +And Lady Bassett might surely have concluded that she would be out +somewhere under the pines. + +Well, they probably would not stay for long, and she was in no hurry. +With a faint sigh of lingering annoyance she began to read. + +But the piercing, feline voice soon pounded flail-like into her +consciousness, scattering her thoughts with ruthless insistence. + +"Of course," it asserted, "it was the only thing he could possibly do. +No man with any decent feeling could have done otherwise. But it was a +little hard on him. Surely you agree with me there?" + +Lady Bassett's voice, soft and precise, made answer. "Indeed I think +he has behaved most generously in the matter. As you say, it would +have been but a gentleman's duty to make an offer of marriage, +considering all the circumstances. But he went further than that. He +actually insisted upon the arrangement. I suppose he felt bound to +do so as the poor child's father had placed her in his charge. She +is quite unformed still, and is very far from realising her grave +position. Indeed, I scarcely expected her to accept him without the +urgent reason for the match being explained to her; for it is quite +obvious that she does not care for him in that way. Poor child, she is +scarcely old enough to know the true meaning of love. It is very sad +for them both." + +A gentle sigh closed the sentence. Muriel's book had slid down upon +a cushion of pine-needles. She had raised herself in the hammock, and +was staring at the rustic woodwork of the summer-house as though she +saw a serpent twining there. + +There followed a brief silence. Then came the man's voice, deliberate +and resounding. + +"I am sure it must have caused you much anxiety, dear Lady Bassett. +With my knowledge of Nicholas Ratcliffe I confess that I should have +felt very grave misgivings as to whether he were endowed with the +chivalry to fulfil the obligation he had incurred. My esteem for him +has increased fourfold since I heard of his intention to shoulder his +responsibilities thus courageously. I had not deemed him capable of +such a sacrifice. I sincerely trust that he will be given strength to +carry it through worthily." + +"I shall not feel really easy till they are married," confessed Lady +Bassett. + +"Ah!" The sonorous voice broke in again with friendly reproof. +"But--pardon me--does not that indicate a certain lack of faith, Lady +Bassett? Since the young man has been led to see that the poor girl +has been so sadly compromised, surely we may trust that he will be +enabled to carry out his engagement. I consider it doubly praiseworthy +that he has taken this action on his own initiative. I may tell you in +confidence that I was seriously debating with myself as to whether it +were not my duty to approach him on the subject. But the news of his +engagement relieved me of all responsibility. It is no doubt something +of a sacrifice to a man of his stamp. We can only trust that he will +be duly rewarded." + +Here the shrill, feline voice suddenly made itself heard, tripping in +upon the deeper tones without ceremony. + +"Oh, but poor Nick! I can't picture him married and done for. He has +always been so gay. Why, look at him with Daisy Musgrave! I know for +a fact that he goes there every day at least, and she refusing to +receive any one else. I call it quite scandalous." + +"My dear! My dear!" It was Lady Bassett's turn to reprove. "Not quite +every day surely!" + +"I do assure you that isn't the smallest exaggeration," protested +her informant. "I had it from Mrs. Gybbon-Smythe who never misstates +anything. It was she who first told me of this engagement, and she +considered that Nick was positively throwing himself away. A mere +chivalrous fad she called it, and declared that it would simply ruin +his prospects. For it is well known that married officers are almost +invariably passed over by the powers that be. And he is regarded as so +promising too. Really I am almost inclined to agree with her. Just a +little more tea, dear, if I may. Your tea is always so delicious, and +doubly so out here under the pines." + +The soft jingling of tea-cups ensued, and through it presently came +Lady Bassett's gentle tones. They sounded as if she were smiling. + +"Well, all I can say is, I was unspeakably relieved when I heard that +Captain Ratcliffe had decided to treat the matter as a point of honour +and marry dear Muriel. She is a sweet girl and I am devoted to her, +which made it doubly hard for me. For I should scarcely have dared to +venture, after what has happened, to ask any of my friends to receive +her. Naturally, she shrinks from speaking of that terrible time, but +I understand that she spent no less than three nights alone in +the mountains with him. And that fact in itself would be more than +sufficient to blight any girl's career from a social standpoint. I +often think that the rules of our modern etiquette are very rigid, +though I know well that we cannot afford to disregard them." Again +came that soft, regretful sigh; and then in an apologetic tone, "_You_ +will say, I know, that for the good of the community this must be so, +but you are great enough to make allowances for a woman's weakness. +And I must confess that I cannot but feel the pity of it in such a +case as this." + +"Indeed, Lady Bassett, I think your feminine weakness does you +credit," was the kind response this elicited. "We must all of us +sympathise most deeply with the poor little wanderer, who, I am well +assured, could not be in better hands than she is at the present +moment. Your protecting care must, I am convinced, atone to her in a +very great measure for all that she has been called upon to undergo." + +"So sweet of you to say so!" murmured Lady Bassett. "Words cannot +express my reluctance to explain to her the actual state of affairs, +or my relief that I have been able to avoid doing so with a clear +conscience. Ah! Your cup is empty! Will you let me refill it? No? But +you are not thinking of leaving me yet, surely?" + +"Ah, but indeed we must. We are dining with the Boltons to-night, and +going afterwards to the Parkers' dance. You will be there of course? +How delightful! Then we shall soon meet again." + +The penetrating voice was accompanied by the sounds of a general move, +and there ensued the usual interchange of compliments at departure, +Lady Bassett protesting that it had been so sweet of her friends to +visit her, and the friends assuring her of the immense pleasure it had +given them to do so. All the things that are never said by people who +are truly intimate with each other were said several times over as +the little party moved away. Their voices receded into the distance, +though they continued for a while to prick through the silence that +fell like a velvet curtain behind them. + +Finally they ceased altogether. The summer-house was empty, and an +enterprising monkey slipped down the trunk of a tree and peered in. +But he was a nervous beast, and he had a feeling that the place was +not so wholly devoid of human presence as it seemed. He approached +cautiously, gibbering a little to himself. It looked safe enough, and +there was some dainty confectionery within. But, uneasy instinct still +urging him, he deemed it advisable to peer round the corner of the +summer-house before he yielded to the promptings of a rapacious +appetite. + +The next instant his worst fears were realised, and he was scudding up +the nearest tree in a panic. + +There, on the ground, face downwards on the pine-needles, lay a human +form. True, it was only a woman lying there. But her silence and her +stillness were eloquent of tragedy even to his monkey-intelligence. +From a safe height he sat and reviled her till he was tired for having +spoilt his sport. Finally, as she made no movement, he forgot +his grievance, and tripped airily away in quest of more thrilling +adventures. + +But the woman remained prone upon the ground for a long, long time. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE SUMMONS + + +Nick's fit of virtue evaporated with his third letter, and he got +up, feeling that he had spent an unprofitable afternoon. He also +discovered that he was thirsty, and while quenching his thirst he +debated with himself whether he would after all stroll round to the +Musgraves. He and Will were old school-fellows, and the friendship +between them was of the sort that wears forever. He was moreover +dissatisfied with regard to Daisy's appearance, and he wanted to know +the doctor's verdict. + +He had just decided to chance his welcome and go, when a note was +brought to him which proved to be from Will himself. + + "DEAR OLD NICK," it ran,--"I have been wanting to shake your + hand ever since I heard of your gallant return from the jaws + of death. Well done, old chap, if it isn't a stale sentiment! + + "Will you come and dine with us? Do thy diligence, for though + we are neither of us the best of company, we both want you. + The doctor has ordered Daisy and the youngster home. They are + to leave before the _chota-bursat_. Damn the _chota-bursat_, + and the whole beastly show!--Yours ever, + + "WILL" + +Nick considered this outburst with a sympathetic frown, and at once +despatched an answer in the affirmative. He had almost expected the +news. It had been quite plain to him that Daisy was not making any +progress towards the recovery of her strength. Her quick temperament +would not allow her to be listless, but he had not been deceived. And +he was glad that Will had come up at length to see for himself. + +It was horribly unlucky for them both, he reflected, for he knew +that Will could not accompany his wife to England. And the thought +presently flashed across him,--How would it go with him if he ever had +to part with Muriel in that way? Having once possessed her, could +he ever bear to let her go again? Would he not rather relinquish his +profession for her sake, dear though it was to him? He had made her +his own by sheer dogged effort. He had planned for her, fought for +her, suffered for her,--almost he had died for her. Now that she was +his at last, he knew that he could never let her go. + +He turned impetuously to a calendar on his writing-table, and ticked +off another day. There were only six left before his wedding-day. He +counted them with almost savage exultation. Finally he tossed down the +pencil with a sudden, quivering laugh, and stood up with wide-flung +arms. She was his--his--his! No power or force of circumstance could +ever come between them now. He would trample every obstacle underfoot. + +But there were no obstacles left. He had overcome them all. He had won +her fairly; and the reward of patience was very near. + +For the first time he slackened the bonds of his self-restraint; +and instantly the fire of his passion leapt up, free and fierce, +overflowing its confines in a wide-spread, molten stream that carried +all before it. + +When later he departed to keep his engagement, he was as a man +treading upon air. Not a dozen yards from the gate one of Lady +Bassett's servants met him and presented a note. He guessed it was +from Muriel, and the blood rose in a hot wave to his head and pounded +at his temples as he opened it. It was the first she had ever written +to him. + + "I must see you at once,--M." + +That was all. He dismissed the waiting native, and returned to his +room. There he wrote a note to Will Musgrave warning him that he had +been delayed. + +Then he suddenly straightened himself and stood tense. Something had +happened. He was sure of it. That urgent summons rang in his brain +like a cry for help. Some demand was about to be made upon him, a +demand which he might find himself ill-equipped to meet. He was not +lacking in courage. He could meet adversity without a quiver. But for +once he was not sure of himself. He was not prepared to resist any +sudden strain that night. + +Several minutes passed before he moved. Then, glancing down, he +saw her message fast gripped in his hand. With a swift, passionate +movement he carried the paper to his lips. And he remembered suddenly +how he had once held her hand there and breathed upon the little cold +fingers to give them life. He had commanded himself then. Was he any +the less his own master now? And was he fool enough to destroy all in +a moment that trust of hers which he had built up so laboriously? He +felt as if a fiend had ensnared him, and with a fierce effort he broke +free. Surely he was torturing himself in vain. She had only sent for +him to explain that she could not ride with him in the morning, or +some other matter equally trifling. He would go to her at once since +she had desired it, and set her mind at rest on whatever subject +happened to be troubling it. + +And so with steady tread he left the house once more. She had called +him for the first time. He would not keep her waiting. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE ORDEAL + + +The drawing-room was empty when he entered it, the windows standing +flung wide to the night. Strains of dance music were wafted in from +somewhere lower down the hill, and he guessed that Lady Bassett would +be from home. The pine-trees of the compound stood black and silent. +There seemed to be a hush of expectancy in the air. + +He stood with his back to the room and his face to the mountains. The +moon was still below the horizon, but stars blazed everywhere with a +marvellous brightness. It was a night for dreams, and he thought with +a quickening heart of the nights that were coming when they two would +be alone once more among the hills, no longer starved and fleeing +for their lives, but wandering happily together in an enchanted world +where the past was all forgotten, and the future gleamed like the +peaks of Paradise. + +At sound of a quiet footfall, he turned back into the room. Muriel had +entered and was closing the door behind her. At first sight he fancied +that she was ill, so terribly did her deep mourning and heavy hair +emphasise her pallor. But as she moved forward he reassured himself. +It was growing late. Doubtless she was tired. + +He went impetuously to meet her, and in a moment he had her hands +in his; but they lay in his grasp cold and limp, with no responding +pressure. Her great eyes, as they looked at him, were emotionless +and distant, remote as the lights of a village seen at night across a +far-reaching plain. She gave him no word or smile of welcome. + +A sudden dark suspicion flashed through his brain, and he drew her +swiftly to the light, looking at her closely, searchingly. + +"What have you been doing?" he said. + +She fathomed his suspicion, and faintly smiled. "Nothing--nothing +whatever. I have never touched opium since the night you--" + +He cut in sharply, as if the reminiscence hurt him. "I beg your +pardon. Well, what is it then? There's something wrong." + +She did not contradict him. Merely with a slight gesture of weariness, +she freed herself and sat down. + +Nick remained on his feet, looking down at her, waiting grimly for +enlightenment. + +It did not come very readily. Seconds had passed into minutes before +she spoke, and then her words did not bear directly upon the matter in +hand. + +"I hope it was quite convenient to you to come to-night. I was a +little afraid you would have an engagement." + +He remembered the urgency of her summons and decided that she spoke +thus conventionally to gain time. On another occasion he might +have humoured such a whim, but to-night it goaded him almost beyond +endurance. Surely they had passed that stage, he and she. + +With an effort he controlled himself, but it sounded in his voice as +he made reply. + +"My engagement to you stands before any other. What is it you want to +say to me?" + +Her expression changed slightly at his words, and a shade of +apprehension flitted across her face. She threw him a swift upward +glance, half-scared, half-questioning. Unconsciously her hands locked +themselves together. + +"I want you not to be vexed, Nick," she said, in a low voice. + +He made an abrupt movement. "My dear girl, don't be silly. What's the +trouble? Let me hear it and have done." + +His tone was reassuring. She looked up at him with more confidence. + +"Yes, I am silly," she acknowledged. "I'm perfectly idiotic to fancy +for a moment that it can make any difference to you. Nick, I have been +thinking things over seriously, and--and--I find that I can't marry +you after all. I hope you won't mind, though of course--" she uttered +a little laugh that was piteously insincere--"I know you will feel +bound to say you do. But--anyhow--you needn't say it to me, because I +understand. I thought it was only fair to let you know at once." + +"Thank you," said Nick, and there was that in his voice which was like +the sudden snapping of a tense spring. + +She saw his hands clench with the words, and an overwhelming sense +of danger swept over her. Instinctively she started to her feet. If a +tiger had leapt in upon her through the window she could not have been +more terrified. + +Nick took a single stride towards her, and she stopped as if struck +powerless. His face was the face she had once seen bent over a man in +his death-agony, convulsed with passion, savage, merciless,--the face +of a devil. + +She shrank away from him in nameless terror, gasping and +panic-stricken. "Nick," she whispered, "are you--mad?" + +He answered her jerkily in a strangled voice that was like the snarl +of a beast. "Yes--I am mad. If you try to run away from me now--I +won't answer for myself." + +She gazed at him with widening eyes. "But, but--" she faltered--"I--I +don't understand. Oh, Nick, you frighten me!" + +It was the cry of a child, lost, bewildered, piteous. Had she +withstood him, had she sought to escape, the demon in him would have +burst the last restraining bond, and have shattered in one moment of +unshackled violence all the chivalrous patience which during the last +few weeks he had spent his whole strength to achieve. + +But that cry of desolation pierced straight through his madness, +cutting deeper than reproach or protest, wounding him to the heart. + +With a sound that was half-sob, half-groan, he turned his back upon +her and covered his face. + +For a space of seconds he stood so, not moving, seeming not even to +breathe. And Muriel, steadying herself by the mantelpiece, watched him +with a panting heart. + +Then abruptly, moving with a quick, light tread that made no sound, he +crossed the room to one of the wide-flung windows and stopped there. + +From across the quiet garden there came the strains of "The Blue +Danube," fitful, alluring, plaintive--that waltz to which countless +lovers have danced and wooed and whispered through the years. Muriel +longed intensely to shut it out, to stop her ears, to make some noise +to drown it. Her nerves were all on edge, and she felt as if its +persistent sweetness would drive her mad. + +Surely Nick felt the same; but if he did, he made no sign. He stood +without movement with his face to the night, gripping the woodwork of +the window with both hands, every bone of them standing out in sharp, +skeleton lines. + +She watched him, fascinated, for a long time, but he did not stir from +his tense position. He seemed to have utterly forgotten her presence +in the room behind him. And still that maddening waltz kept on and on +and on till she felt sick and dazed with listening to it. It seemed as +if for the rest of her life she would never again be free from those +haunting strains. + +The soft shutting of the window made her start and quiver. Nick had +moved at last, and her heart began to throb thick and fast as he +turned. She tried to read his face, but she could not even see +it. There was a swimming mist before her eyes, and her limbs felt +powerless, heavy as lead. + +In every nerve, she felt him drawing near, and in an agony of +helplessness she awaited him, all the surging horror of that night +when he had drugged her rushing back upon her with tenfold force. +Again she saw him as she had seen him then, monstrous, silent, +terrible, a man of superhuman strength, whose mastery appalled +her. Again in desperate fear she shrank from him, seeking wildly, +fruitlessly, for a way of escape. + +And then came the consciousness of his arm about her, supporting her; +and the voice that had quieted her wildest delirium was speaking in +her ear. + +"The goblins are all gone, dear," she heard him say. "Don't be +frightened." + +He led her gently to a sofa and made her sit down, bending over her +and softly rubbing her cold cheek. + +"Tell me when you're better," he said, "and we'll talk this thing out. +But don't be frightened anyway. It's all right." + +The tenderness of voice and touch, the sudden cessation of all +tension, the swift putting to flight of her fear, all combined to +produce in her a sense of relief so immense that the last shred of her +self-control went from her utterly. She laid her head down upon the +cushions and burst into a storm of tears. + +Nick's hand continued to stroke and soothe, but he said no more while +her paroxysm of weeping lasted. He who was usually so ready of speech, +so quick to console, found for once no words wherewith to comfort her. + +Only when her distress had somewhat spent itself, he bent a little +lower and dried her tears with his own handkerchief, his lips +twitching as he did it, his eyes flickering so rapidly that it was +impossible to read their expression. + +"There!" he said at last. "There's nothing to cry about. Finish what +you were saying when I interrupted you. I think you were in the middle +of throwing me over, weren't you? At least, you had got through that +part of it, and were just going to tell me why." + +His tone was reassuringly flippant. + +Looking up at him, she saw the old kindly, quizzical look on his face. +He met her eyes, nodding shrewdly. + +"Let's have it," he said, "straight from the shoulder. You're tired of +me, eh?" + +She drew back from him, but with no gesture of shrinking. "I'm tired +of everything--everything," she said, a little passionate quiver in +her voice. "I wish--I wish with all my heart, you had left me to die." + +"Is that the grievance?" said Nick. He sat down on the head of the +sofa, and drove his fist into the cushion. "If I could explain things +to you, I would. But you're such a chicken, aren't you, dear, and +about as easily scared? Since when have you harboured this grudge +against me?" + +The gentle banter of his tone did not deceive her into imagining that +she could trifle with him, nor was she addicted to trifling. She +made answer with a certain warmth of indignation that seemed to have +kindled on its own initiative and wholly without her volition. + +"I haven't, I don't. I'm not so absurd. It isn't that at all." + +"You're not tired of me?" queried Nick. + +"No." + +"If I were to die to-morrow for instance--and there's no telling, you +know, Muriel,--you'd be a little sorry?" + +Again, though scarcely aware of it, she resented the question. "Why do +you ask me that? Of course I should be sorry." + +"Of course," acquiesced Nick. "But all the king's horses and all the +king's men wouldn't bring me back again. That's the worst of being +mortal. You can't dance at your own funeral." + +"What do you mean?" There was a note of exasperation in Muriel's +voice. She saw that he had an object in view, but his method of +attaining it was too tortuous for her straightforward understanding. + +He explained himself with much patience. His mood had so completely +changed that she could barely recall to mind the vision that had so +appalled her but a few minutes before. + +"What I mean is that it's infernal to think that some one may be +shedding precious tears on your grave and you not there to see. +I've often wondered if one could get a ticket of leave for such an +occasion." He smiled down at her with baffling directness. "I should +value those tears unspeakably," he said. + +Muriel made a slight movement of impatience. The discussion seemed to +her inconsequent and unprofitable. + +Nick began to enumerate his points. "You're not tired of me--though +I see I'm boring you hideously; put up with it a little longer, I've +nearly finished--and you'd shed quite a respectable number of tears +if I were to die young. Yes, I am young though as ugly as Satan. I +believe you think I'm some sort of connection, don't you? Is that why +you don't want to marry me?" + +He put the question with startling suddenness, and Muriel glanced up +quickly, but was instantly reassured. He was no more formidable at +that moment than a grinning schoolboy. Still she did not feel wholly +at her ease with him. She had a curious suspicion that he was in some +fashion testing her. + +"No," she answered, after a moment. "It is nothing of that sort." + +"Quite sure there is a reason?" he asked quizzically. + +Her white cheeks flushed. "Yes, of course. But--I would rather not +tell you what it is." + +"Quite so," said Nick. "I suppose that also is 'only fair'?" + +Her colour deepened. He made her feel unaccountably ashamed. "I will +tell you if you wish to know," she said reluctantly. "But I would +rather not." + +Nick made an airy gesture. "Not for the world! My intelligence +department is specially fitted for this sort of thing. Besides, I know +exactly what happened. It was something like this." He passed his +hand over his face, then turned to her with a faint, wry smile so +irresistibly reminiscent of Lady Bassett that Muriel gasped with a +sudden hysterical desire to laugh. + +He silenced her by beginning to speak in soft, purring accents. "You +know, darling Muriel, I have never looked upon Nicholas Ratcliffe as +a marrying man. He is such a gay butterfly." (This with an indulgent +shake of the head.) "Indeed, I have heard dear Mrs. Gybbon-Smythe +describe him as a shocking little flirt. And they say he is fond of +his glass too, but let us hope this is an exaggeration. I know for a +fact that he has a very violent temper, and this may have given +rise to the rumour. I assure you, dearest, he is quite formidable, +notwithstanding his size. But there, if I tell you any more you will +think I am prejudiced against him, whereas we are really the greatest +friends--the greatest possible friends. I only thought it kind to warn +you not to expect too much. It is a mistake so many young girls make, +and I want you to be as happy as you can, poor child." + +Muriel was laughing helplessly when he stopped. The mimicry of voice +and action was so perfect, so free from exaggeration, so sublimely +spontaneous. + +Nick did not laugh with her. Behind his mask of banter he was +watching, watching closely. He had clad himself in jester's garb to +feel for the truth. Perhaps she realised something of this as +she recovered herself, for again that glance, half-questioning, +half-frightened, flashed up at him as she made reply. + +"No, Nick. She never said that, indeed. I wouldn't have cared if she +had. It was only--only--" + +"I know," he broke in abruptly. "If it wasn't that, there is only one +thing left that it could have been. I don't want you to tell me. It's +as plain as daylight. Let me tell you instead. It's all for the sake +of your poor little personal pride. I know--yes, I know. They've been +throwing mud at you, and it's stuck. You'd sooner die than marry me, +wouldn't you? But what will you do if I refuse to set you free?" + +She turned suddenly crimson. "You--you wouldn't, Nick! You couldn't! +You haven't--the right." + +"Haven't I?" said Nick, with an odd smile. "I thought I had." + +He looked down at her, and a queer little flame leaped up like an evil +spirit in his eyes, flickered an instant, and was gone. "I thought I +had," he said again, in a different tone. "But we won't quarrel about +that. Tell me what you want to do." + +Her answer came with a vehemence that perhaps he had hardly expected. +"Oh, I want to get away--right away. I want to go home. I--I hate this +place." + +"And every one in it?" suggested Nick. + +"Almost." Muriel spoke recklessly, even defiantly. She was fighting +for her freedom, and the battle was infinitely harder than she had +anticipated. + +He nodded. "The sole exception being Mrs. Musgrave. Do you know Mrs. +Musgrave is going home? You would like to go with her." + +Muriel looked at him with sudden hope. "Alone with her?" she said. + +"Oh, I'm not going," declared Nick. "I'm going to Khatmandu for my +honeymoon." + +The hope died out of Muriel's eyes. "Don't--jeer at me, Nick," she +said, in a choked voice. "I can't bear it." + +"Jeer!" said Nick. "I!" He reached down suddenly and took her hand. +The light sparkled on the ring he had given her, and he moved it +slowly to and fro watching it. + +"I am going to ask you to take it back," she said. + +He did not raise his eyes. "And I am going to refuse," he answered +promptly. "I don't say you must wear it, but you are to keep it--not +as a bond, merely in remembrance of a promise which you will make to +me." + +"A promise--" she faltered. + +Still he did not look up. He was watching the stones with eyes +half-shut. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment. "I will let you go on the sole +condition that you give me this promise." + +She began to tremble a little. "What is it?" she whispered. + +He glanced at her momentarily, but his expression was enigmatical. She +felt as if his look lighted and dwelt upon something beyond her. + +"Simply this," he said. "You'll laugh, I daresay; but if you are able +to laugh it won't hurt you to promise. I want your word of honour that +if you ever change your mind about marrying me, you will come to me +like a brave woman and tell me so." + +Thus, quite calmly, he made known to her his condition, and in the +amazed silence with which she received it he continued to flash hither +and thither the wonderful rays that shone from the gems upon her hand. +He did not appear to be greatly concerned as to what her answer would +be. Simply with an inscrutable countenance he waited for it. + +"Is it a bargain?" he asked at last. + +She started with an involuntary gesture of shrinking. "Oh, no, Nick! +How could I promise you that? You know I shall never change my mind." + +He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "That isn't the point under +discussion. If it's an impossible contingency, it costs you the less +to promise." + +He kept her hand in his as he said it, though she fidgeted to be free. +"Please, Nick," she said earnestly, "I would so much rather not." + +"You prefer to marry me at once?" he asked, and suddenly it seemed to +her that this was the alternative to which he meant to drive her. + +She rose in a panic, and he rose also, still keeping her hand. His +face looked like a block of yellow granite. + +"Must it--must it--be one or the other?" she panted. + +He looked at her under flickering eyelids. "I have said it," he +remarked. + +Her resistance flagged, sank, rose again, and finally died away. After +all, why should she hesitate? What was there in such an undertaking as +this to send the blood so wildly to her heart? + +"Very well," she said faintly at last. "I promise. But--but--I never +shall change my mind, Nick--never--never." + +He was still looking at her with veiled, impenetrable eyes. He paid no +attention to her protest. It was as if he had not so much as heard it. + +"You've done your part," he said. "Now hear me do mine. I swear to +you--before God--that I will never marry you unless you ask me to." + +He bent with the words, and solemnly, reverently, he pressed his lips +upon the hand he held. + +Muriel waited, half-frightened still, and wholly awestruck. She did +not know Nick in this mood. + +But when he straightened himself again, the old whimsical smile was on +his face, and she breathed a sigh of relief. With a quick, caressing +movement he took her by the shoulders. + +"That's over then," he said lightly. "Turn over and start another +page. Go back to England, go back to school; and let them teach you to +be young again." + +They were his last words to her. Yet an instant longer he waited, and +very deep down in her heart something that was hidden there stirred +and quivered as a blind creature moves at the touch of the sun. It +awoke a vague pain within her, that was all. + +The next moment Nick had turned upon his heel and was departing. + +She heard him humming a waltz tune under his breath as he went away +with his free British swagger. And she knew with no sense of elation +that she had gained her point. + +For good or ill he had left her, and he would not return. + + + + +PART III + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +AN OLD FRIEND + + +"There!" said Daisy, standing back from the table to review her +handiwork with her head on one side. "I may be outrageously childish, +but if Blake fails to appreciate this masterpiece of mine, I shall +feel inclined to turn him out-of-doors, and leave him to spend the +night on the step." + +Muriel, curled up in the old-fashioned window-seat, looked round with +her low laugh. "It's snowing hard," she remarked. + +Daisy did not heed her. "Come and look at it," she said. + +The masterpiece in question consisted of an enormous red scroll +bearing in white letters the words: "Welcome to the Brave." + +"It never before occurred to me that Blake was brave," observed Daisy. +"He is so shy and soft and retiring. I can't somehow feel as if I am +going to entertain a lion. He ought to be here by this time. Let's go +and hang my work of art in the hall." + +She slipped her hand through Muriel's arm, and glanced at her sharply +when she felt it tremble. + +"It will be good to see him again, won't it?" she said. + +"Yes," Muriel agreed, but there was a little tremor in her voice as +well. + +Very vividly were the circumstances under which she had last seen this +man in her mind that night. Eight months that were like as many years +stretched between that tragic time and the present, but the old wild +horror had still the power to make her blood turn cold, the old wound +had not lost its ache. These things had made a woman of her before +her time, but yet she was not as other women. It seemed that she was +destined all her life to live apart, and only to look on at the joys +of others. They did not attract her, and she had no heart for gaiety. +Yet she was not cold, or Daisy had not found in her so congenial a +companion. But even Daisy seldom penetrated behind the deep reserve +that had grown over the girl's sad young heart. They were close +friends, but their friendship lay mainly in what they left unsaid. +For all her quick warmth, Daisy too had her inner shrine--a place so +secret that she herself never entered it save as it were by stealth. + +But something of Muriel's mood she understood on that bitter night +in January on which they awaited the coming of Blake Grange, and her +close hand-pressure conveyed as much as they passed out together into +the little hall that glowed so snugly in the firelight. + +"He is sure to be frozen, poor boy," she said. "I hope Jim Ratcliffe +won't forget to send the motor to the station as he promised." + +"I am quite sure he never forgets anything," Muriel declared, with +reassuring confidence. + +Daisy laughed lightly. "Yes, he's very dependable, deliciously solid, +isn't he? A trifle domineering perhaps, but all doctors are. They +rule us weak women with a rod of iron. I am a little afraid of Dr. Jim +myself, and most unfortunately he knows it." + +Muriel's silence expressed a certain scepticism that provoked another +laugh from Daisy. She was almost frivolously light-hearted that night. + +"It's a fact, I assure you. Have you never noticed how docile I am +in his presence? I always feel as if I want to confess all my sins to +him. I should like intensely to have his opinion upon some of them. I +think it would do me good." + +"Then why not ask for it?" suggested Muriel. + +"For the reason aforementioned--a slavish timidity." Daisy broke off +to carol a few bars of a song. "I've known the Ratcliffe family ever +since I became engaged to Will," she said presently. "Jim Ratcliffe, +you know, was left his guardian, and he was always very good to him. +Will made his home with them and he and Nick are great pals, just like +brothers. I should think Dr. Jim had his hands full with the two of +them." Again Daisy stopped to sing. Muriel was stooping over the fire. +It was seldom that Nick's name was mentioned between them, though the +fact that Daisy had placed herself and her baby in the hands of +his half-brother formed a connecting link which could not always be +ignored. She always dropped into silence when a reference was made +to him. Not in the most casual conversation had Daisy ever heard her +utter his name. + +Having successfully fixed her message of welcome in a prominent +position, she joined the girl in front of the fire. Her face was +flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Muriel thought that she had never +seen her look so well or so happy. + +"You're quite excited," she said. + +Daisy put up a hand to her hot cheek. "Yes, isn't it absurd? I hope +Dr. Jim won't come with him, or he will be cross. But I can't help it. +Blake and I have been chums all our lives, and of course I am glad to +see him after all this while. So nice, too, not to have Lady Bassett +looking on." + +There was a spice of venom in this, over which Muriel smiled in her +sad way. + +"Does she disapprove?" she asked. + +Daisy nodded impatiently. "She chose altogether to overlook the fact +that we are first cousins. It was intolerable. But--" again came her +light laugh--"everything is intolerable till you learn to shrug your +shoulders and laugh. Hark! Surely I heard something!" + +Both listened intently. Footsteps were approaching the door. Daisy +sprang to open it. + +But it was only the evening post, and she came back holding a letter +with a very unwonted expression of disappointment. + +"From Will," she said. "I forgot it was mail night. I don't suppose +there is anything very exciting in it." + +She pushed the flimsy envelope into the front of her dress and fell +again to listening. + +"Can he have missed the train? Surely it's getting very late. A fog on +the line perhaps. No! What's that? Ah! It really is this time. That's +the horn, and, yes, Jim Ratcliffe's voice." + +In a moment she had the door open again, and was out upon the step +crying welcome to her guest. + +Muriel crouched a little lower over the fire. Her hands were fast +gripped together. It was more of an ordeal than she had thought it +possibly could be. + +An icy blast blew in through the open door, and she heard Dr. +Ratcliffe's voice, sharp and curt, ordering Daisy back into the +house. Then came another voice, slow and soft as a woman's, and for an +instant Muriel covered her face, overwhelmed by bitter memory. + +When she looked up they were entering the hall together, Daisy, +radiant, eager, full of breathless questioning; Blake, upright, +soldierly, magnificent, wearing the shy, pleased smile that she so +well remembered. + +He did not at once see her, and she stood hesitating, till Daisy, who +was clinging to her cousin's arm, turned swiftly round and called her. + +"Muriel, dear, where are you? Why are you hiding yourself? See, Blake! +Here is Muriel Roscoe! You knew we were living together?" + +He saw her then, and came across to her, with both hands outstretched. + +"Forgive me, Miss Roscoe," he said, with his pleasant smile. "You know +how glad I am to meet you again." + +He looked down at her with eyes full of frank and friendly sympathy, +and the grasp of his hands was such that she felt it for long after. +It warmed her through and through, but she could not speak just then, +and with ready understanding he turned back to Daisy. + +"Dr. Ratcliffe told me you had sent him to fetch me from the station," +he said. "I am immensely grateful to you and to him." + +Daisy was greeting the doctor with much animation and a hint of +mischief. + +"I knew you would come," she laughed. "You never trust me to take care +of myself, do you?" + +He brushed some flakes of snow from her dress. "Events prove me to be +justified," he remarked dryly. "Since Will has put you in my care, I +labour under a twofold responsibility. What possessed you to go out in +that murderous north-easter?" + +He frowned at her heavily, his black brows meeting, but +notwithstanding her avowal of a few minutes before, Daisy only +grimaced in return. He was generally regarded as somewhat formidable, +this gruff, square-shouldered doctor, with his iron-grey hair and +black moustache, and keenly critical eyes. There was no varnish in his +curt speech, no dissimulation in any of his dealings. It was said +of him that he never sugared his pills. But his popularity was +wide-spread nevertheless. His help was sought in a thousand ways +outside his profession. To see his strong face melt into a smile was +like sunshine on a gloomy day, the village mothers declared. + +But Daisy's gay effrontery did not manage to provoke it at that +moment. + +"You have no business to take risks," he said. "How's the boy?" + +Daisy sobered instantly. "His teeth have been worrying him rather +to-day. _Ayah_ is with him. I left her crooning him to sleep. Will you +go up?" + +Jim Ratcliffe nodded and turned aside to the stairs. But he had not +reached the top when Muriel overtook him, moving more quickly than was +her wont. + +"Let me come with you, doctor," she said. + +He put his hand on her arm unceremoniously. "Miss Roscoe," he said, "I +have a message for you--from my scapegrace Olga. She wants to know +if you will play hockey in her team next Saturday. I have promised to +exert my influence--if I have any--on her behalf." + +Muriel looked at him in semi-tragic dismay. "Oh, I can't indeed. Why, +I haven't played for ages,--not since I was at school. Besides--" + +"How old are you?" he cut in. + +"Nearly twenty," she told him. "But--" + +He brought his hand down sharply on her shoulder. "I shall never call +you Miss Roscoe again. You obtained my veneration on false pretences, +and you have lost it for ever. Now look here, Muriel!" Arrived at the +top of the stairs, he stood still and confronted her with that smile +of his that so marvellously softened his rugged face. "I am thirty +years older than you are, and I haven't lived for any part of +them with my eyes shut. I've been wanting to give you some +advice--medical advice--for a long time. But you wouldn't have it. And +now I'm not going to offer it to you. You shall take the advice of a +friend instead. You join Olga's hockey team, and go paper-chasing with +her too. The monkey is a rare sportswoman. She'll give you a good run +for your money. Besides, she has set her heart on having you, and +she is a young woman that likes her own way, though, to be sure, she +doesn't always get it. Come, you can't refuse when a friend asks you." + +It was difficult, certainly, but Muriel plainly desired to do so. She +had escaped from the whirling vortex of life with strenuous effort, +and dragged herself bruised and aching to the bank. She did not want +to step down again into even the minutest eddy of that ruthless +flood. Moreover, in addition to this morbid reluctance she lacked the +physical energy that such a step demanded of her. + +"It's very kind of your little daughter to think of asking me," she +said. "But really, I shouldn't be any good. I get tired so quickly. +No, there's nothing the matter with me," seeing his intent look. "I'm +not ill. I never have been actually ill. Only--" her voice quivered a +little--"I think I always shall be tired for the rest of my life." + +"Skittles!" he returned bluntly. "That isn't what's the matter with +you. Go out into the open air. Go out into the north-east wind and +sweep the snow away. Shall I tell you what is wrong with you? You're +stiff from inaction. It's a species of cramp, my dear, and there's +only one remedy for it. Are you going to take it of your own accord, +or must I come round with a physic spoon and make you?" + +She laughed a little, though the deep pathos of her shadowed eyes +never varied. Daisy's merry voice rose from the lower regions gaily +chaffing her cousin. + +"Goodness, Blake! I shouldn't have known you. You're as gaunt as +a camel. Haven't you got over your picnic at Fort Wara yet? You're +almost as scanty a bag of bones as Nick was six months ago." + +Blake's answer was inaudible. Dr. Ratcliffe did not listen for it. +He had seen the swift look of horror that the brief allusion had sent +into the girl's sad face, and he understood it though he made no sign. + +"Very well," he said, turning towards the nursery. "Then I take you +in hand from this day forward. And if I don't find you in the +hockey-field on Saturday, I shall come myself and fetch you." + +There was nothing even vaguely suggestive of Nick about him, but +Muriel knew as surely as if Nick had said it that he would keep his +word. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE EXPLANATION + + +"Now," said Daisy briskly, "you two will just have to entertain each +other for a little while, for I am going up to sit with my son while +_ayah_ is off duty." + +"Mayn't we come too?" suggested her cousin, as he rose to open the +door. + +She stood a moment and contemplated him with shining eyes. "You +are too magnificent altogether for this doll's house of ours," she +declared. "I am sure this humble roof has never before sheltered such +a lion as Captain Blake Grange, V.C." + +"Only an ass in a lion's skin, my dear Daisy," said Grange modestly. + +She laughed. "An excellent simile, my worthy cousin. I wish I had +thought of it myself." + +She went lightly away with this thrust, and Grange, after a brief +pause, turned slowly back into the room. + +Muriel was seated in a low chair before the fire. She was working at +some tiny woollen socks, knitting swiftly in dead silence. + +He moved to the hearthrug, and stood there, obviously ill at ease. A +certain shyness was in his nature, and Muriel's nervousness reacted +upon him. He did not know how to break the silence. + +At length, with an effort, he spoke. "You heard about Nick Ratcliffe's +wound, I expect, Miss Roscoe?" + +Muriel's hands leapt suddenly and fell into her lap. "Nick Ratcliffe! +When was he wounded? No, I have heard nothing." + +He looked down at her with an uneasy suspicion that he had lighted +upon an unfortunate subject. + +"I thought you would have heard," he said. "Didn't Daisy know? He +came back to us from Simla--got himself attached to the punitive +expedition. I was on the sick list myself, so did not see him, but +they say he fought like a dancing dervish, and did a lot of damage +too. Every one thought he would have the V.C., but there was a rumour +that he refused it." + +"And--he was wounded, you say?" Muriel's voice sounded curiously +strained. Her knitting lay jumbled together in her lap. Her dark face +was lifted, and it seemed to Grange, unskilled observer though he was, +that he had never seen deeper tragedy in any woman's eyes. + +Somewhat reluctantly he made reply. "He had his arm injured by a +sword-thrust at the very end of the campaign. He made light of it for +ever so long till things began to look serious. Then he had to give +in, and had a pretty sharp time of it, I believe. He's better again +now, though, so his brother told me this evening. I never heard any +details. I daresay he's all right again." He stooped to pick up a +completed sock that had fallen. "He's the sort of chap who always +comes out on top," he ended consolingly. + +Muriel stiffened a little as she sat. She had a curious longing to +hear more, and an equally curious reluctance to ask for it. + +"I never heard anything about it--naturally," she remarked. + +Grange, having fitted the sock on to two fingers, was examining it +with a contemplative air. It struck her abruptly that he was trying to +say something. She waited silently, not without apprehension. She had +no idea as to how much he knew of what had passed between herself and +Nick. + +"I say, Miss Roscoe," he blurted out suddenly, "do you hate talking +about these things--very badly, I mean?" + +She looked up at him, and was surprised to see emotion on his face. It +had an odd effect upon her, placing her unaccountably at her ease with +him, banishing all her stiffness in a moment. She remembered with a +quick warmth at her heart how she had always liked this man in those +far-off days of her father's protection, how she had always found +something reassuring in his gentle courtesy. + +"No," she said, after a moment, speaking with absolute sincerity. "I +can't bear to with--most people; but I don't think I mind with you." + +She saw his pleasant smile for an instant. He laid the sock down upon +her knee, and in doing so touched and lightly pressed her hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. "I know I'm not good at expressing +myself, but please believe that I wouldn't hurt you for the world. +Miss Roscoe, I have brought some things with me I think you will like +to have--things that belonged to your father. Sir Reginald Bassett +entrusted them to me--left them, in fact, in my charge, as he found +them. I was coming home, and I asked leave to bring them to you. +Perhaps you would like me to fetch them?" + +She was on her feet as he asked the question, on her face such a look +of eagerness as it had not worn for many weary months. + +"Oh, please--if you would!" she said, her words falling fast and +breathless. "It has been--such a grief to me--that I had nothing of +his to--to treasure." + +He turned at once to the door. The desolation that those words of hers +revealed to him went straight to his man's heart. Poor little girl! +Had the parting been so infernally hard as even now to bring that look +to her eyes? Was her father's memory the only interest she had left +in her sad young life? And all the evening, save for that first brief +moment of their meeting, he had been thinking her cold, impassive, +even cynical. + +With a deep pity in his soul he departed on his errand. + +Returning with the soft tread which was his peculiarity, he surprised +her with her face in her hands in an attitude of such abandonment that +he drew back hesitating. But, suddenly aware of him, she sprang up +swiftly, with no sign of tears upon her face. + +"Oh, come in, come in!" she said impatiently. "Why do you stand +there?" + +She ran forward to meet him with hands hungrily outstretched, and +he put into them those trifles which were to her so infinitely +precious--a cigarette-case, a silver match-box, a pen-knife, a little +old prayer-book very worn at the edges, with all the gilt faded from +its leaves. She gathered them to her breast closely, passionately. +All but the prayer-book had been her gifts to the father she had +worshipped. With a wrung heart she called to mind the occasion upon +which each had been offered, his smile of kindly appreciation, the +old-world courtliness of his thanks. With loving hands she laid them +down one by one, lingering over each, seeing them through a blur of +tears. She was no longer conscious of Grange, as reverently, even +diffidently, she opened last of all the little shabby prayer-book that +her father had been wont to take with him on all his marches. She knew +that he had cherished it as her mother's gift. + +It opened upon a scrap of white heather which marked the Service for +the Burial of the Dead. Her tears fell upon the faded sprig, and she +brushed her hand swiftly across her eyes, looking more closely as +certain words underlined caught her attention. Other words had been +written by her father's hand very minutely in the margin. + +The passage underlined was ... "not to be sorry as men without hope, +for them that sleep ..." and in a moment she guessed that her father +had made that mark on the day of her mother's death. It was like a +message to her, the echo of a cry. + +The words in the margin were so small that she had to carry them to +the light to read them. And then they flashed out at her as if +sprung suddenly to light on the white paper. There, in the beloved +handwriting, sure and indelible, she read it, and across the desert +of her heart, voiceless but insistent, there swept the hunger-cry of a +man's soul: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. + +It pulsed through her like an electric current, seeming to overwhelm +every other sensation, shutting her off as it were from the home-world +to which she had fled, how fruitlessly, for healing. Once more +skeleton fingers held hers, shifting to and fro, to and fro, slowly, +ceaselessly, flashing the deep rays that shone from ruby hearts hither +and thither. Once more--But she would not bear it! She was free! She +was free! She flung out the hand that once had worn those rubies, and, +resisting wildly, broke away from the spell that the words her father +had written had woven afresh for her. + +It might be true that Love conquered all things--he had believed +it--but ah, what had this uncanny force to do with Love? Love was a +pure, a holy thing, the bond imperishable--the Eternal Flame at which +all the little torches of the world are lighted. + +Moreover, there was no fear in Love, and she--she was sick with fear +whenever she encountered that haunting phantom of memory. + +With a start she awoke to the fact that she was not alone. Blake +Grange had taken her out-flung hand, and was speaking to her softly, +soothingly. + +"Don't grieve so awfully, Miss Roscoe," he urged, a slight break in +his own voice. "You're not left friendless. I know how it is. I've +felt like it myself. But it gets better afterwards." + +Muriel suffered him with a dawning sense of comfort. It surprised her +to see tears in his eyes. She wondered vaguely if they were for her. + +"Yes," she said, after a pause. "It does get better, I know, in a way. +Or at least one gets used to an empty heart. One gets to leave off +listening for what one will never, never hear any more." + +"Never is a dreary word," said Grange. + +She bent her head silently, and again his heart overflowed with pity +for her. He looked down at the hand that lay so passively in his. + +"I hope you will always think of me as a friend," he said. + +She looked up at him a quick gleam of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank +you," she said. "Yes, always." + +He still held her hand. "You know," he said, blundering awkwardly, "I +always blamed myself that--that I wasn't the one to be with you when +you escaped from Wara. I might have been. But I--I wasn't prepared to +pay the possible price." + +She was still looking at him with those aloof, tragic eyes of +hers. "I don't quite understand," she said, "I never did +understand--exactly--why Nick was chosen to protect me. I always +wished it had been you." + +"It ought to have been," Grange said, with feeling. "It should have +been. I blame myself. But Nick is a better fighter than I. He keeps +his head. Moreover, he's a savage in some respects. I wasn't savage +enough." + +He smiled with a hint of apology. + +Muriel repressed a shudder at his words. "I don't understand," she +said again. + +He hesitated. "It's a difficult thing to explain to you," he said +reluctantly. "You see, the fellow who took charge of you had to be +prepared for--well--anything. You know what devils those tribesmen +are. There was to be no chance of your falling into their hands. It +didn't mean just fighting for you, you understand. We would all have +done that to the last drop of our blood. But--your father--was forced +to ask of us--something more. And only Ratcliffe would undertake it. +He's a queer chap. I used to think him a rotter till I saw him fight, +and then I had to change my mind. That was, I believe, the main reason +why General Roscoe selected him as your protector. He knew he could +trust the fellow's nerve. The rest of us were like women compared to +Nick." + +He paused. Muriel's eyes had not flinched from his. She heard his +explanation as one not vitally concerned. + +"Have I made myself intelligible?" he asked, as she did not speak. + +"Do you mean I was to be shot if things went wrong?" she returned, in +her deep, quiet voice. + +He nodded. "It must have been that. Your father saw it in that light, +and so did we. Of course you are bound to see it too. But we stuck at +it--Marshall and I. There was only Nick left, and he volunteered." + +"Only Nick left!" she repeated slowly. "Nick would stick at nothing, +Captain Grange." + +"I honestly don't think he would," said Grange. "Still, you know, he's +awfully plucky. He would have gone any length to save you first." + +She drew back with a sudden shrinking of her whole body. "Oh, I know, +I know!" she said. "I sometimes think there is a devil in Nick." + +She turned aside, bending once more over her father's things, putting +them together with unsteady fingers. So this was the answer to the +riddle--the secret of his choice for her! She understood it all now. + +After a short pause, she spoke again more calmly. "Did Nick ever speak +to you about me?" + +"Never," said Grange. + +"Then please, Captain Grange"--she stood up again and faced +him--"never speak to me again about him. I--want to forget him." + +Very young and slight she looked standing there, and again he felt his +heart stir within him with an urgent pity. Vague rumours he had heard +of those few weeks at Simla during which her name and Nick Ratcliffe's +had been coupled together, but he had never definitely known what +had taken place. Had Nick been good to her, he wondered for the first +time? How was it that the bare mention of him was unendurable to +her? What had he done that she should shudder with horror when she +remembered him, and should seek thus with loathing to thrust him out +of her life? + +Involuntarily the man's hands clenched and his blood quickened. Had +the General's trust been misplaced? Was Nick a blackguard? + +Finding her eyes still upon him, he made her a slight bow that was +wholly free from gallantry. + +"I will remember your wish, Miss Roscoe," he said. "I am sorry I +mentioned a painful subject to you, though I am glad for you to know +the truth. You are not vexed with me, I hope?" + +Her eyes shone with sincere friendliness. "I am not vexed," she +answered. "Only--let me forget--that's all." + +And in those few words she voiced the desire of her soul. It was her +one longing, her one prayer--to forget. And it was the one thing of +all others denied to her. + +In the silence that followed, she was conscious of his warm and kindly +sympathy, and she was grateful for it, though something restrained her +from telling him so. + +Daisy, coming lightly in upon them, put an end to their tête-à -tête. +She entered softly, her face alight and tender, and laid her two hands +upon Grange's great shoulders as he sat before the fire. + +"Come upstairs, Blake," she whispered, "and see my baby boy. He's +sleeping so sweetly. I want you to see him first while he's good." + +He raised his face to her smiling, his hands on hers. "I am sure to +admire anything that belongs to you, Daisy," he said. + +"You're a dear old pal," responded Daisy lightly. "Come along." + +When they were gone Muriel spied Will Musgrave's letter lying on +the ground by Grange's chair as it had evidently fallen from Daisy's +dress. She went over and picked it up. It was still unopened. + +With an odd little frown she set it up prominently upon the +mantelpiece. + +"Does Love conquer after all?" she murmured to herself, and there was +a faint twist of cynicism about her lips as she asked the question. +There seemed to be so many forms of Love. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A HERO WORSHIPPER + + +"Well played! Oh, well played! Miss Roscoe, you're a brick." + +The merry voice of the doctor's little daughter Olga, aged fourteen, +shrilled across the hockey-ground, keen with enthusiasm. She was +speeding across the field like a hare to congratulate her latest +recruit. + +"I'm so pleased!" she cried, bursting through the miscellaneous crowd +of boys and girls that surrounded Muriel. "I wanted you to shoot that +goal." + +She herself had been acting as goal-keeper at her own end of the +field, a position of limited opportunities which she had firmly +refused to assign to the new-comer. A child of unusual character was +Olga Ratcliffe, impulsive but shrewd, with quick, pale eyes which +never seemed to take more than a brief glance at anything, yet which +very little ever escaped. At first sight Muriel had experienced a +certain feeling of aversion to her, so marked was the likeness this +child bore to the man whom she desired so passionately to shut out of +her very memory. But a nearer intimacy had weakened her antipathy +till very soon it had altogether disappeared. Olga had a swift and +fascinating fashion of endearing herself to all who caught her fancy +and, somewhat curiously, Muriel was one of the favoured number. What +there was to attract a child of her quick temperament in the grave, +silent girl in mourning who held aloof so coldly from the rest of the +world was never apparent. But that a strong attraction existed for her +was speedily evident, and Muriel, who was quite destitute of any +near relations of her own, soon found that a free admittance to the +doctor's home circle was accorded her on all sides, whenever she chose +to avail herself of it. + +But though Daisy was an immense favourite and often ran into the +Ratcliffes' house, which was not more than a few hundred yards away +from her own little abode, Muriel went but seldom. The doctor's wife, +though always kind, was too busy to seek her out. And so it had been +left to the doctor himself to drag her at length from her seclusion, +and he had done it with a determination that would take no refusal. +She did not know him very intimately, had never asked his advice, +or held any confidential talk with him. At the outset she had been +horribly afraid lest he should have heard of her engagement to Nick, +but, since he never referred to her life in India or to Nick as in any +fashion connected with herself, this fear had gradually subsided. She +was able to tell herself thankfully that Nick was dropping away from +her into the past, and to hope with some conviction that the great +gulf that separated them would never be bridged. + +Yet, notwithstanding this, she had a fugitive wish to know how her +late comrade in adversity was faring. Captain Grange's news regarding +him had aroused in her a vague uneasiness, which would not be quieted. + +She wondered if by any means she could extract any information from +Olga, and this she presently essayed to do, when play was over for the +day and Olga had taken her upstairs to prepare for tea. + +Olga was the easiest person in the world to deal with upon such a +subject. She expanded at the very mention of Nick's name. + +"Oh, do you know him? Isn't he a darling? I have a photograph of him +somewhere. I must try and find it. He is in fancy dress and standing +on his head--such a beauty. Weren't you awfully fond of him? He has +been ill, you know. Dad was very waxy because he wouldn't come home. +He might have had sick leave, but he wouldn't take it. However, he may +have to come yet, Dad says, if something happens. He didn't say what. +It was something to do with his wound. Dad wants him to leave the Army +and settle down on his estate. He owns a big place about twelve miles +away that an old great-aunt of his left him. Dad thinks a landowner +ought to live at home if he can afford to. And of course Nick might go +into Parliament too. He's so clever, and rich as well. But he won't do +it. So it's no good talking." + +Olga jumped off the dressing-table, and wound her arm impulsively +through Muriel's. "Miss Roscoe," she said coaxingly, "I do like you +most awfully. May I call you by your Christian name?" + +"Why, do!" Muriel said. "I should like it best." + +"Oh, that's all right," said Olga, well pleased. "I knew you weren't +stuck-up really. I hate stuck-up people, don't you? I'm awfully +pleased that you like Nick. I simply love him--better almost than any +one else. He writes to me sometimes, pages and pages. I never show +them to any one, and he doesn't show mine either. You see, we're pals. +But I can show you his photograph--the one I told you about. It's just +like him--his grin and all. Come up after tea, and I'll find it." + +And with her arm entwined in Muriel's she drew her, still talking +eagerly, from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +NEWS FROM THE EAST + + +"I have been wondering," Grange said in his shy, rather diffident way, +"if you would care to do any riding while I am here." + +"I?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. + +They were walking back from church together by a muddy field-path, and +since neither had much to say at any time, they had accomplished more +than half the distance in silence. + +"I know you do ride," Grange explained, "and it's just the sort of +country for a good gallop now and then. Daisy isn't allowed to, but I +thought perhaps you--" + +"Oh, I should like to, of course," Muriel said. "I haven't done any +riding since I left Simla. I didn't care to alone." + +"Ah! Lady Bassett rides, doesn't she? She is an accomplished +horsewoman, I believe?" + +"I don't know," Muriel's reply was noticeably curt. "I never rode with +her." + +Grange at once dropped the subject, and they became silent again. +Muriel walked with her eyes fixed straight before her. But she did not +see the brown earth underfoot or the bare trees that swayed overhead +in the racing winter wind. She was back again in the heart of the +Simla pines, hearing horses' feet that stamped below her window in the +dawning, and a gay, cracked voice that sang. + +Her companion's voice recalled her. "I suppose Daisy will stay here +for the summer." + +"I suppose so," she answered. + +Grange went on with some hesitation. "The little chap doesn't look as +if he would ever stand the Indian climate. What will happen? Will she +ever consent to leave him with the Ratcliffes?" + +"I am quite certain she won't," Muriel answered, with unfaltering +conviction. "She simply lives for him." + +"I thought so," Grange said rather sadly. "It would go hard with her +if--if--" + +Muriel's dark eyes flashed swift entreaty. "Oh, don't say it! Don't +think it! I believe it would kill her." + +"She is stronger, though?" he questioned almost sharply. + +"Yes, yes, much stronger. Only--not strong enough for that. Captain +Grange, it simply couldn't happen." + +They had reached a gate at the end of the field. Grange stopped before +it, and spoke with sudden, deep feeling. + +"If it does happen, Muriel," he said, using her Christian name quite +unconsciously, "we shall have to stand by her, you and I. You won't +leave her, will you? You would be of more use to her than I. Oh, +it's--it's damnable to see a woman in trouble and not be able to +comfort her." + +He brought his ungloved hand down upon the gate-post with a violence +that drew blood; then, seeing her face of amazement, thrust it hastily +behind him. + +"I'm a fool," he said, with his shy, semi-apologetic smile. "Don't +mind me, Miss Roscoe. You know, I--I'm awfully fond of Daisy, always +was. My people were her people, and when they died we were the only +two left, as it were. Of course she was married by that time, and +there are some other relations somewhere. But we've always hung +together, she and I. You can understand it, can't you?" + +Muriel fancied she could, but his vehemence startled her none the +less. She had not deemed him capable of such intensity. + +"I suppose you feel almost as if she were your sister," she remarked, +groping half-unconsciously for an explanation. + +Grange was holding the gate open for her. He did not instantly reply. + +Then, "I don't exactly know what that feels like," he said, with an +odd shame-facedness. "But in so far as that we have been playfellows +and chums all our lives, I suppose you might describe it in that way." + +And Muriel, though she wondered a little at the laborious honesty of +his reply, was satisfied that she understood. + +She was drifting into a very pleasant friendship with Blake Grange. +He seemed to rely upon her in an indefinable fashion that made their +intercourse of necessity one of intimacy. Moreover, Daisy's habits +were still more or less those of an invalid, and this fact helped very +materially to throw them together. + +To Muriel, emerging slowly from the long winter of her sorrow, the +growing friendship with this man whom she both liked and admired was +as a shaft of sunshine breaking across a grey landscape. Insensibly +it was doing her good. The deep shadow of a horror that once had +overwhelmed her was lifting gradually away from her life. In her +happier moments it almost seemed that she was beginning to forget. + +Grange's suggestion that they should ride together awoke in her a +keener sense of pleasure than she had known since the tragedy of Wara +had darkened her young life, and for the rest of the day she looked +forward eagerly to the resumption of this her favourite exercise. + +Daisy was delighted with the idea, and when on the following morning +Grange ransacked the town for suitable mounts and returned triumphant, +she declared gaily that she should take no further trouble for her +guest's entertainment. The responsibility from that day forth rested +with Muriel. + +Muriel was by no means loth to assume it. They got on excellently +together, and their almost daily rides became a source of keen +pleasure to her. Winter was fast merging into spring, and the magic +of the coming season was working in her blood. There were times when +a sense of spontaneous happiness would come over her, she knew not +wherefore. Jim Ratcliffe no longer looked at her with stern-browed +disapproval. + +She and Grange both became regular members of Olga's hockey team. They +shared most of their pursuits. Among other things she was learning the +accompaniments of his songs. Grange had a well-cultivated tenor voice, +to which Daisy the restless would listen for any length of time. + +Altogether they were a very peaceful trio, and as the weeks slipped on +it almost seemed as if the quiet home life they lived were destined to +endure indefinitely. Grange spoke occasionally of leaving, but Daisy +would never entertain the idea for an instant, and he certainly did +not press it very strongly. He was not returning to India before +September, and the long summer months that intervened made the date +of his departure so remote as to be outside discussion. No one ever +thought of it. + +But the long, quiet interval in the sleepy little country town, +interminable as it might feel, was not destined to last for ever. On +a certain afternoon in March, Grange and Muriel, riding home together +after a windy gallop across open country, were waylaid outside the +doctor's gate by one of the Ratcliffe boys. + +The urchin was cheering at the top of his voice and dancing +ecstatically in the mud. Olga, equally dishevelled but somewhat more +coherent, was seated on the gate-post, her long legs dangling. + +"Have you seen Dad? Have you heard?" was her cry. "Jimmy, come out of +the road. You'll be kicked." + +Both riders pulled up to hear the news, Jimmy squirming away from +the horses' legs after a fashion that provoked even the mild-tempered +Grange to a sharp reproof. + +"You haven't heard?" pursued Olga, ignoring her small brother's +escapade as too trifling to notice at such a supreme moment. "But you +haven't, of course, if you haven't seen Dad. The letter only came an +hour ago. It's Nick, dear old Nick! He's coming home at last!" In +her delight over imparting the information Olga nearly toppled over +backwards, only saving herself by a violent effort. "Aren't you glad, +Muriel? Aren't you glad?" she cried. "I was never so pleased in my +life!" + +But Muriel had no reply ready. For some reason her animal had become +suddenly restive, and occupied the whole of her attention. + +It was Grange who after a seconds hesitation asked for further +particulars. "What is he coming for? Is it sick leave?" + +Olga nodded. "He isn't to stay out there for the hot weather. It's +something to do with his wound. He doesn't want to come a bit. But he +is to start almost at once. He may be starting now." + +"Not likely," put in Jimmy. "The end of March was what he said. Dad +said he couldn't be here before the third week in April." + +"Oh, well, that isn't long, is it?" said Olga eagerly. "Not when you +come to remember that it's three years since he went away. I do think +they might have given him the V.C., don't you? Captain Grange, why +hasn't he got the V.C.?" + +Grange couldn't say, really. He advised her to ask the man himself. +He was observing Muriel with some uneasiness, and when she at length +abruptly waved her whip and rode sharply on as though her horse +were beyond her control, he struck spurs into his own and started in +pursuit. + +Muriel passed her own gate at a canter, but hearing Grange behind her +she soon reined in, and they trotted some distance side by side in +silence. + +But Grange was still uneasy. The girl's rigid profile had that stony, +aloof look that he had noted upon his arrival weeks before, and that +he had come to associate with her escape from Wara. + +Nevertheless, when she presently addressed him it was in her ordinary +tone and upon a subject indifferent to them both. She had received a +shock, he knew, but she plainly did not wish him to remark it. + +They rode quite soberly back again, and separated at the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A HARBOUR OF REFUGE + + +To Daisy the news that Grange imparted was more pleasing than +startling. "I knew he would come before long if he were a wise man," +she said. + +But when her cousin wanted to know what she meant, she would not tell +him. + +"No, I can't, Blake," was her answer. "I once promised Muriel never to +speak of it. She is very sensitive on the subject." + +Grange did not press for an explanation. It was not his way. He left +her moodily, a frown of deep dissatisfaction upon his handsome face. +Daisy did not spend much thought upon him. Her interests at that +time were almost wholly centred upon her boy who was so backward and +delicate that she was continually anxious about him. She was, in fact, +so preoccupied that she hardly noticed at dinner that Muriel scarcely +spoke and ate next to nothing. + +Grange remarked both facts, and his moodiness increased. When +Daisy went up to the nursery, he at once followed Muriel into the +drawing-room. She was standing by the window when he entered, a slim, +straight figure in unrelieved black; but though she must have heard +him, she neither spoke nor turned her head. + +Grange closed the door and came softly forward. There was an unwonted +air of resolution about him that made him look almost grim. He reached +her side and stood there silently. The wind had fallen, and the sky +was starry. + +After a brief silence Muriel dropped the blind and looked at him. +There was something of interrogation in her glance. + +"Shall we go into the garden?" she suggested. "It is so warm." + +He fell in at once with the proposal. "You will want a cloak," he +said. "Can I fetch you one?" + +"Oh, thanks! Anything will do. I believe there's one of Daisy's in the +hall." + +She moved across the room quickly, as one impatient to escape from a +confined space. Grange followed her. He was not smoking as usual. They +went out together into the warm darkness, and passed side by side +down the narrow path that wound between the bare flower-beds. It was +a wonderful night. Once as they walked there drifted across them a +sudden fragrance of violets. + +They reached at length a rustic gate that led into the doctor's +meadow, and here with one consent they stopped. Very far away a faint +wind was stirring, but close at hand there was no sound. Again, from +the wet earth by the gate, there rose the magic scent of violets. + +Muriel rested her clasped hands upon the gate, and spoke in a voice +unconsciously hushed. + +"I never realised how much I liked this place before," she said. +"Isn't it odd? I have been actually happy here--and I didn't know it." + +"You are not happy to-night," said Grange. + +She did not attempt to contradict him. "I think I am rather tired," +she said. + +"I don't think that is quite all," he returned, with quiet conviction. + +She moved, turning slightly towards him; but she said nothing, though +he obviously waited for some response. + +For awhile he was discouraged, and silence fell again upon them. Then +at length he braced himself for an effort. For all his shyness he was +not without a certain strength. + +"Miss Roscoe," he said, "do you remember how you once promised that +you would always regard me as a friend?" + +She turned fully towards him then, and he saw her face dimly in the +starlight. He thought she looked very pale. + +"I do," she said simply. + +In a second his diffidence fell away from him. He realised that the +ground on which he stood was firm. He bent towards her. + +"I want you to keep that promise of yours in its fullest sense +to-night, Muriel," he said, and his soft voice had in it almost a +caressing note. "I want you--if you will--to tell me what is the +matter." + +Muriel stood before him with her face upturned. He could not read her +expression, but he knew by her attitude that she had no thought of +repelling him. + +"What is it?" he urged gently. "Won't you tell me?" + +"Don't you know?" she asked him slowly. + +"I only know that what we heard this afternoon upset you," he +answered. "And I don't understand it. I am asking you to explain." + +"You will only think me very foolish and absurd." + +There was a deep quiver in the words, and he knew that she was +trembling. Very kindly he laid his hand upon her shoulder. + +"Can't you trust me better than that?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Her breathing became suddenly sharp and +irregular, and he realised that she was battling for self-control. + +"I don't know if I can make you understand," she said at last. "But I +will try." + +"Yes, try!" he said gently. "You won't find it so very difficult." + +She turned back to the gate, and leaned wearily upon it. + +"You are very kind. You always have been. I couldn't tell any one +else--not even Daisy. You see, she is--his friend. But you are +different. I don't think you like him, do you?" + +Grange hesitated a little. "I won't go so far as to say that," he +said finally. "We get on all right. I was never very intimate with the +fellow. I think he is a bit callous." + +"Callous!" Muriel gave a sudden hard shudder. "He is much worse than +callous. He is hideously, almost devilishly cruel. But--but--he isn't +only that. Blake, do you think he is quite human? He is so horribly, +so unnaturally strong." + +Grange heard the scared note in her voice, and drew very close to her. +"I think," he said quietly, "that--without knowing it--you exaggerate +both his cruelty and his strength. I know he is a queer chap. I once +heard it said of him that he has the eyes of a snake-charmer, and I +believe it more or less. But I assure you he is human--quite human. +And"--he spoke with unwonted emphasis--"he has no more power over +you--not an inch--than you choose to give him." + +Muriel uttered a faint sigh. "I knew I should never make you +understand." + +Grange was silent. He might have retorted that she had given him very +little information to go upon, but he forebore. There was an almost +colossal patience about this man. His silence had in it nothing of +resentment. + +After a few seconds Muriel went on, her voice very low. "I would give +anything--all I have--not to meet him when he comes back. But I don't +know how to get away from him. He is sure to seek me out. And I--I am +only a girl. I can't prevent it." + +Again there sounded that piteous quiver in her words. It was like the +cry of a lost child. Grange heard it, and clenched his hands, but he +did not speak. He was gazing straight ahead, stern-eyed and still. + +Muriel scarcely noticed his attitude. Having at length broken through +her barrier of reserve, she found a certain relief in speech. + +"I might go away, of course," she said. "I expect I shall do that, for +I don't think I could endure it here. But I haven't many friends. +My year in India seemed to cut me off from every one. It's a little +difficult to know where to go. And then, too, there is Daisy." + +She paused, and suddenly Grange spoke, with more abruptness than was +his wont. + +"Why do you think he is sure to seek you out? Did he ever say so?" + +She shivered. "No, he never said so. But--but--in a way I feel it. +He is so merciless. He always makes me think of an eagle swooping +down on its prey. No doubt you think me very fanciful and ridiculous. +Perhaps I am. But once--in the mountains--he told me that I belonged +to him--that he would not let me go, and--and--I have never been able +to forget it." + +Her voice sank, and it seemed to Grange that she was crying in the +darkness. Her utter forlornness pierced him to the heart. He leaned +towards her, trying ineffectually to see her face. + +"My dear little girl," he said gently, "don't be so distressed. He +deserves to be kicked for frightening you like this." + +"It's my own fault," she whispered back. "If I were stronger, or if +Daddy were with me--it would be different. But I am all alone. There +is no one to help me. I used to think it didn't matter what happened +to me, but I am beginning to feel it does." + +"Of course it does," Grange said. His hand felt along the rail for +hers, and, finding them, held them closely. Her weakness gave him +confidence. "Poor child!" he murmured softly. "Poor little girl! You +do want some one to take care of you." + +Muriel mastered herself with an effort. It was not often now that she +gave way so completely. + +"It's only now and then," she said. "It's better than it used to be. +Only somehow I got frightened when I heard that Nick was coming. I +daresay--when I begin to get used to the idea--I shan't mind it quite +so much. Never mind about my silly worries any more. No doubt I shall +get wiser as I grow older." + +She tried to laugh with the words, but somehow no laugh came. Grange's +great hand closed very tightly upon hers, and she looked up in +surprise. + +Almost instantly he began to speak, very humbly, but also very +resolutely. "Muriel," he said, "I'm an unutterable fool at expressing +things. I can only say them straight out and hope for the best. You +want a protector, don't you? And I--should like to be the one to +protect you if--if it were ever possible for you to think of me in +that light." + +He spoke with immense effort. He was afraid of scaring her, afraid of +hurting her desolate young heart, afraid almost of the very impulse +that moved him to speak. + +Absolute silence reigned when he ended. + +Muriel had become suddenly rigid, and so still that she did not seem +to breathe. For several seconds he waited, but still she made no sign. +He had not the remotest clue to guide him. He began to feel as if a +door had unexpectedly closed against him, not violently, but steadily, +soundlessly, barring him out. + +It was but a fleeting impression. In a few moments more it was gone. +She drew a long quivering breath, and turned slightly towards him. + +"I would rather trust myself to you," she said, "than to any one else +in the world." + +She spoke in her deep, sincere voice which gave him no doubt that she +meant what she said, and at once his own trepidation departed. He put +his arm around her, and pressed her close to him. + +"Come to me then," he said very tenderly. "And I will take such care +of you, Muriel, that no one shall ever frighten you again." + +She yielded to his touch as simply as a child, leaning her head +against him with a little, weary gesture of complete confidence. She +was desperately tired of standing alone. + +"I know I shall be safe with you," she whispered. + +"Quite safe, dear," he answered gravely. He paused a moment as though +irresolute; then, still holding her closely, he bent and kissed her +forehead. + +He did it very quietly and reverently, but at the action she started, +almost shrank. One of those swift flashes of memory came suddenly upon +her, and as in a vision she beheld another face bending over her--a +yellow, wrinkled face of terrible emaciation, with eyes of flickering +fire--eyes that never slept--and heard a voice, curiously broken +and incoherent that seemed to pray. She could not catch the words it +uttered. + +The old wild panic rushed over her, the old frenzied longing to +escape. With a sobbing gasp she turned in Grange's arms, and clung to +him. + +"Oh, Captain Grange," she panted piteously, "promise--promise you will +never let me go!" + +Her agitation surprised him, but it awaked in him a responsive +tenderness that compassed her with a strength bred rather of emergency +than habit. + +"My little girl, I swear I will never let you go," he said, with grave +assurance. "You are quite safe now. No one shall ever take you from +me." + +And it was to Muriel as if, after long and futile battling in the open +sea, she had drifted at last into the calm heaven which surely had +always been the goal of her desires. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AN OLD STORY + + +Jim Ratcliffe was in the drawing-room with Daisy when they returned. +He scrutinised them both somewhat sharply as they came in, but he made +no comment upon their preference for the garden. Very soon he rose to +take his leave. + +Grange accompanied him to the door, and Muriel, suddenly possessed by +an overwhelming sense of shyness, bent over Daisy and murmured a hasty +goodnight. + +Daisy looked at her for a moment. "Tired, dear?" + +"A little," Muriel admitted. + +"I hope you haven't been catching cold--you and Blake," Daisy said, as +she kissed her. + +Muriel assured her to the contrary, and hastened to make her escape. +In the hall she came face to face with Blake. He met her with a smile. + +"What! Going up already?" + +She nodded. Her face was burning. For an instant her hand lay in his. + +"You tell Daisy," she whispered, and fled upstairs like a scared bird. + +Grange stood till she was out of sight; then turned aside to the +drawing-room, the smile wholly gone from his face. + +Daisy, from her seat before the fire, looked up with her gay laugh. +"I'm sure there is a secret brewing between you two," she declared. "I +can feel it in my bones." + +Grange closed the door carefully. There was a queer look on his face, +almost an apprehensive look. He took up his stand on the hearthrug +before he spoke. + +"You are not far wrong, Daisy," he said then. + +She answered him lightly as ever. "I never am, my dear Blake. Surely +you must have noticed it. Well, am I to be let into the plot, or not?" + +He looked at her for a moment uneasily. "Of course we shall tell you," +he said. "It--it's not a thing we could very well keep to ourselves +for any length of time." + +A sudden gleam of understanding flashed into Daisy's upturned face, +and instantly her expression changed. With a swift, vehement movement +she sprang up and stood before him. + +"Blake!" she exclaimed, and in her voice astonishment, dismay, and +even reproach were mingled. + +He averted his eyes from hers. "Won't you congratulate me, Daisy?" he +said, speaking almost under his breath. + +Daisy had turned very white. She put out both hands, and leaned upon +the mantelpiece. + +"But, my dear Blake," she said, after a moment, "she is not for you." + +"What do you mean?" Grange's jaw suddenly set itself. He squared +his great shoulders as if instinctively bracing himself to meet +opposition. + +"I mean"--Daisy spoke very quietly and emphatically--"I mean, Blake, +that she is Nick's property. She belonged to Nick before ever you +thought of wanting her. I never dreamed that you would do anything +so shabby as to step in at the last moment, just when Nick is coming +home, and cut him out. How could you do such a thing, Blake? But +surely it isn't irrevocable? You can't have said anything definite?" + +Grange's face had become very stern. He no longer avoided her eyes. +For once he was really angry, and showed it. + +"You make a mistake," he told her curtly. "I have done nothing +whatever of which I am ashamed, or of which any man could be ashamed. +Certainly I have taken a definite step. I have proposed to her, and +she has accepted me. With regard to Nick Ratcliffe, I believe myself +that the fellow is something of a blackguard, but in any case she both +fears and hates him. He can have no shadow of a right over her." + +"You forget that he saved her life," said Daisy. + +"Is she to hold herself at his disposal on that account? I must say I +fail to see the obligation." + +There was even a hint of scorn in Grange's tone. At sound of it, Daisy +turned round and laid her hand winningly upon his arm. + +"Dear old boy," she said gently, "don't be angry. I'm not against +you." + +He softened instantly. It was not in him to harbour resentment against +a woman. He took her hand, and heaved a deep sigh. + +"No, Daisy," he said half sadly, "you mustn't be against me. I always +count on you." + +Daisy laughed a little wistfully. "Always did, dear, didn't you? Well, +tell me some more. What made you propose all of a sudden like this? +Are you--very much in love?" + +He looked at her. "Perhaps not quite as we used to understand the +term," he said, seeming to speak half-reluctantly. + +"Oh, we were very extravagant and foolish," rejoined Daisy lightly. +"I didn't mean quite in that way, Blake. You at least are past the age +for such feathery nonsense, or should be. I was--aeons and aeons ago." + +"Were you?" he said, and still he looked at her half in wonder, it +seemed, and half in regret. + +Daisy nodded at him briskly. The colour had come back to her face. +"Yes, I have arrived at years of discretion," she assured him. "And I +quite agree with Solomon that childhood and youth are vanity. But now +let us talk about this. Is she in love with you, I wonder? I must be +remarkably blind not to have seen it. How in the world I shall ever +face Nick again, I can't imagine." + +Grange frowned. "I'm getting a bit tired of Nick," he said moodily. +"He crops up everywhere." + +Daisy's face flushed. "Don't you ever again say a word against him in +my hearing," she said. "For I won't bear it. He may not be handsome +like you; but for all that, he's about the finest man I know." + +"Good heavens!" said Blake. "As much as that!" + +She nodded vehemently. "Yes, quite as much. And he loves her, too, +loves her with his whole soul. Perhaps you never knew that they would +have been married long ago in Simla if Muriel hadn't overheard some +malicious gossip and thrown him over. How in the world she made him +let her go I never knew, but she did it, though I believe it nearly +broke his heart. He came to me afterwards and begged me to keep her +with me as long as I could, and take care of her." + +"All this," broke in Grange, "is what you promised never to speak of?" + +"Yes," she admitted recklessly. "But it is what you ought to +know--what you must know--before you go any further." + +"It will make no difference to me," he observed. "It is quite obvious +that she never cared for him in the smallest degree. Why, my dear +girl, she hates the man!" + +Daisy gave vent to a sigh of exasperation. "When you come to talk +about women's feelings, Blake, you make me tired. You will never be +anything but a great big booby in that respect as long as you live." + +Grange became silent. He never argued with Daisy. She had always had +the upper hand. He watched her as she sat down again, her pretty face +in the glow of the fire; but though fully aware of the fact, she would +not look at him. + +"She is a dear girl, and you are not half good enough for her," she +said, stooping a little to the blaze. + +"I know that," he answered bluntly. "I wasn't good enough for you, +either, but you would have had me--once." + +She made a dainty gesture with one shoulder. "That also was aeons ago. +Why disturb that poor old skeleton?" + +He did not answer, but he continued to watch her steadily with eyes +that held an expression of dumb faithfulness--like the eyes of a dog. + +Daisy was softly and meditatively poking the fire. "If you marry her, +Blake," she said, "you will have to be enormously good to her. She +isn't the sort of girl to be satisfied with anything but the best." + +"I should do my utmost to make her happy," he answered. + +She glanced up momentarily. "I wonder if you would succeed," she +murmured. + +For a single instant their eyes met. Daisy's fell away at once, and +the firelight showed a swift deepening of colour on her face. + +As for Blake, he stood quite stiff for a few seconds, then with an +abruptness of movement unusual with him, he knelt suddenly down beside +her. + +"Daisy," he said, and his voice sounded strained, almost hoarse, +"you're not vexed about it? You don't mind my marrying? It isn't--you +know--it isn't--as if--" + +He broke off, for Daisy had jerked upright as if at the piercing of a +nerve. She looked at him fully, with blazing eyes. "How can you be so +ridiculous, Blake?" she exclaimed, with sharp impatience. "That was +all over and done with long, long ago, and you know it. Besides, even +if it hadn't been, I'm not a dog in the manger. Surely you know that +too. Oh, go away, and don't be absurd!" + +She put her hand against his shoulder, and gave him a small but +vehement push. + +He stood up again immediately, but he did not look hurt, and the +expression of loyalty in his eyes never wavered. + +There was a short pause before Daisy spoke again. + +"Well," she said, with a brief sigh, "I suppose it's no good crying +over spilt milk, but I wish you had chosen any girl in the world but +Muriel, Blake; I do indeed. You will have to write to Sir Reginald +Bassett. He is her guardian, subject to his wife's management. Perhaps +she will approve of you. She hated Nick for some reason." + +"I don't see how they can object," Grange said, in the moody tone he +always used when perplexed. + +"No," said Daisy. "Nor did Nick. But Lady Bassett managed to put a +spoke in his wheel notwithstanding. Still, if Muriel wants to marry +you--or thinks she does--she will probably take her own way. And +possibly regret it afterwards." + +"You think I shall not make her happy?" said Grange. + +Daisy hesitated a little. "I think," she said slowly, "that you are +not the man for her. However,"--she rose with another shrug--"I may +be wrong. In any case you have gone too far for me to meddle. I can't +help either of you now. You must just do what you think best." She +held out her hand. "I must go up now. Baby is restless to-night, and +may want me. Good-night." + +Blake stooped, and carried her hand softly and suddenly to his lips. +He seemed for an instant on the verge of saying something, but no +words came. There was a faint, half-mocking smile on Daisy's face +as she turned away. But she was silent also. It seemed that they +understood each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE SLEEP CALLED DEATH + + +It was an unspeakable relief to Muriel that, in congratulating her +upon her engagement, Daisy made no reference to Nick. She did not know +that this forbearance had been dictated long before by Nick himself. + +The days that followed her engagement had in them a sort of rapture +that she had never known before. She felt as a young wild creature +suddenly escaped from the iron jaws of a trap in which it had long +languished, and she rioted in the sense of liberty that was hers. Her +youth was coming back to her in leaps and bounds with the advancing +spring. + +She missed nothing in Blake's courtship. His gentleness had always +attracted her, and the intimacy that had been growing up between them +made their intercourse always easy and pleasant. They never spoke of +Nick. But ever in Muriel's heart there lay the soothing knowledge that +she had nothing more to fear. Her terrible, single-handed contests +against overwhelming odds were over, and she was safe. She was +convinced that, whatever happened, Blake would take care of her. Was +he not the protector she would have chosen from the beginning, could +she but have had her way? + +So, placidly and happily, the days drifted by, till March was nearly +gone; and then, sudden and staggering as a shell from a masked +battery, there fell the blow that was destined to end that peaceful +time. + +Very late one night there came a nervous knocking at Muriel's door, +and springing up from her bed she came face to face with Daisy's +_ayah_. The woman was grey with fright, and babbling incoherently. +Something about "baba" and the "mem-sahib" Muriel caught and instantly +guessed that the baby had been taken ill. She flung a wrap round her, +and hastened to the nursery. + +It was a small room opening out of Daisy's bedroom. The light was +turned on full, and here Daisy herself was walking up and down with +the baby in her arms. + +Before Muriel was well in the room, she stopped and spoke. Her face +was ghastly pale, and she could not raise her voice above a whisper, +though she made repeated efforts. "Go to Blake!" she panted. "Go +quickly! Tell him to fetch Jim Ratcliffe. Quick! Quick!" + +Muriel flew to do her bidding. In her anxiety she scarcely waited to +knock at Blake's door, but burst in upon him headlong. The room was in +total darkness, but he awoke instantly. + +"Hullo! What is it? That you, Muriel?" + +"Oh, Blake!" she gasped. "The child's ill. We want the doctor." + +He was up in a moment. She heard him groping for matches, but he only +succeeded in knocking something over. + +"Can't you find them?" she asked. "Wait! I'll get you a light." + +She ran back to her own room and fetched a candle. Her hands were +shaking so that she could scarcely light it. Returning, she found +Grange putting on his clothes in the darkness. He was fully as +flurried as she. + +As she set down the candle there arose a sudden awful sound in Daisy's +room. + +Muriel stood still. "Oh, what is that?" + +Grange paused in the act of dragging on his coat. "It's that damned +_ayah_," he said savagely. + +And in a second Muriel understood. Daisy's _ayah_ was wailing for the +dead. + +She put her hands over her ears. The dreadful cry seemed to pierce +right through to her very soul. Then she remembered Daisy, and turned +to go to her. + +Out in the passage she met the white-faced English servants huddling +together and whispering. One of them was sobbing hysterically. She +passed them swiftly by. + +Back in Daisy's room she found the _ayah_ crouched on the floor, and +rocking herself to and fro while she beat her breast and wailed. The +door that led into the nursery was closed. + +Muriel advanced fiercely upon the woman. She almost felt as if +she could have choked her. She seized her by the shoulders without +ceremony. The _ayah_ ceased her wailing for a moment, then recommenced +in a lower key. Muriel pulled her to her feet, half-dragged, half-led +her to her own room, thrust her within, and locked the door upon her. +Then she returned to Daisy. + +She found her sunk in a rocking-chair before the waning fire, softly +swaying to and fro with the baby on her breast. She looked at Muriel +entering, with a set, still face. + +"Has Blake gone?" she asked, still in that dry, powerless whisper. + +Muriel moved to her side, and knelt down. "He is just going," she +began to say, but the words froze on her lips. + +She remained motionless for a long second, gazing at the tiny, waxen +face on Daisy's breast. And for that second her heart stood still; for +she knew that the baby was dead. + +From the closed room across the passage came the muffled sound of the +_ayah's_ wailing. Daisy made a slight impatient movement. + +"Stir the fire," she whispered. "He feels so cold." + +But Muriel did not move to obey. Instead she held out her arms. + +"Let me take him, dear," she begged tremulously. Daisy shook her head +with a jealous tightening of her clasp. "He has been so ill, poor wee +darling," she whispered. "It came on so suddenly. There was no time +to do anything. But he is easier now. I think he is asleep. We won't +disturb him." + +Muriel said no more. She rose and blindly poked the fire. Then--for +the sight of Daisy rocking her dead child with that set, ashen face +was more than she could bear--she turned and stole away, softly +closing the door behind her. + +Again meeting the English servants hovering outside, she sent them +downstairs to light the kitchen fire, going herself to the dining-room +window to watch for the doctor. Her feet were bare and freezing, but +she would not return to her room for slippers. She felt she could not +endure that awful wailing at close quarters again. Even as it was, she +heard it fitfully; but from the nursery there came no sound. + +She wondered if Blake had gone across the meadow to the doctor's +house--it was undoubtedly the shortest cut--and tried to calculate how +long it would take him. + +The waiting was intolerable. She bore it with a desperate endurance. +She could not rid herself of the feeling that somehow Nick was near +her. She almost expected to see him come lightly in and stand beside +her. Once or twice she turned shivering to assure herself that she was +really alone. + +There came at last the click of the garden-gate. They had come across +the drenched meadows. In a transient gleam of moonlight she saw the +two figures striding towards her. Grange stopped a moment to fasten +the gate. The doctor came straight on. + +She ran to the front door and threw it open. The wind blew swirling +all about her, but she never felt it, though her very lips were numb +and cold. + +"It's too late!" she gasped, as he entered. "It's too late!" + +Jim Ratcliffe took her by the shoulders and forced her away from the +open door. + +"Go and put something on," he ordered, "instantly!" + +There was no resisting the mastery of his tone. She responded to it +instinctively, hardly knowing what she did. + +The _ayah's_ paroxysm of grief had sunk to a low moaning when she +re-entered her room. It sounded like a dumb creature in pain. Hastily +she dressed, and twisted up her hair with fingers that she strove in +vain to steady. + +Then noiselessly she crept back to the nursery. + +Daisy was still rocking softly to and fro before the ore, her piteous +burden yet clasped against her heart. The doctor was stooping over +her, and Muriel saw the half-eager, half-suspicious look in Daisy's +eyes as she watched him. She was telling him in rapid whispers what +had happened. + +He listened to her very quietly, his keen eyes fixed unblinking upon +the baby's face. When she ended, he stooped a little lower, his hand +upon her arm. + +"Let me take him," he said. + +Muriel trembled for the answer, remembering the instant refusal with +which her own offer had been met. But Daisy made no sort of protest. +She seemed to yield mechanically. + +Only, as he lifted the tiny body from her breast, a startled, almost +a bereft look crossed her face, and she whispered quickly, "You won't +let him cry?" + +Jim Ratcliffe was silent a moment while he gazed intently at the +little lifeless form he held. Then very gently, very pitifully, but +withal very steadily, his verdict fell through the silent room. + +"He will never cry any more." + +Daisy was on her feet in a moment, the agony in her eyes terrible to +see. "Jim! Jim!" she gasped, in a strangled voice. "He isn't dead! +My little darling,--my baby,--the light of my eyes; tell me--he +isn't--dead!" + +She bent hungrily over the burden he held, and then gazed wildly into +his face. She was shaking as one in an ague. + +Quietly he drew the head-covering over the baby's face. "My dear," he +said, "there is no death." + +The words were few, spoken almost in an undertone; but they sent a +curious, tingling thrill through Muriel--a thrill that seemed to +reach her heart. For the first time, unaccountably, wholly intangibly, +she was aware of a strong resemblance between this man whom she +honoured and the man she feared. She almost felt as if Nick himself +had uttered the words. + +Standing dumbly by the door, she saw the doctor stoop to lay the poor +little body down in the cot, saw Daisy's face of anguish, and the +sudden, wide-flung spread of her empty arms. + +The next moment, her woman's instinct prompting her, she sprang +forward; and it was she who caught the stricken mother as she fell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CREED OF A FIGHTER + + +It was growing very hot in the plains. A faint breeze born at sunset +had died away long ago, leaving a wonderful, breathless stillness +behind. The man who sat at work on his verandah with his shirt-sleeves +turned up above his elbows sighed heavily from time to time as if +he felt some oppression in the atmosphere. He was quite a young man, +fair-skinned and clean-shaven, with an almost pathetically boyish look +about him, a wistful expression as of one whose youth still endured +though the zest thereof was denied to him. His eyes were weary and +bloodshot, but he worked on steadily, indefatigably, never raising +them from the paper under his hand. + +Even when a step sounded in the room behind him, he scarcely looked +up. "One moment, old chap!" He was still working rapidly as he spoke. +"I've a toughish bit to get through. I'll talk to you in a minute." + +There was no immediate reply. A man's figure, dressed in white linen, +with one arm quite invisible under the coat, stood halting for a +moment in the doorway, then moved out and slowly approached the table +at which the other sat. + +The lamplight, gleaming upwards, revealed a yellow face of many +wrinkles, and curious, glancing eyes that shone like fireflies in the +gloom. + +He stopped beside the man who worked. "All right," he said. "Finish +what you are doing." + +In the silence that followed he seemed to watch the hand that moved +over the paper with an absorbing interest. The instant it rested he +spoke. + +"Done?" + +The man in the chair stretched out his arms with a long gesture of +weariness; then abruptly leapt to his feet. + +"What am I thinking of, keeping you standing here? Sit down, Nick! +Yes, I've done for the present. What a restless beggar you are! Why +couldn't you lie still for a spell?" + +Nick grimaced. "It's an accomplishment I have never been able to +acquire. Besides, there's no occasion for it now. If I were going to +die, it would be a different thing, and even then I think I'd +rather die standing. How are you getting on, my son? What mean these +hieroglyphics?" + +He dropped into the empty chair and pored over the paper. + +"Oh, you wouldn't understand if I told you," the other answered. +"You're not an engineer." + +"Not even a greaser of wheels." admitted Nick modestly. "But you +needn't throw it in my teeth. I suppose you are going to make your +fortune soon and retire--you and Daisy and the imp--to a respectable +suburb. You're a very lucky chap, Will." + +"Think so?" said Will. + +He was bending a little over his work. His tone sounded either absent +or dubious. + +Nick glanced at him, and suddenly swept his free right hand across the +table. "Put it away!" he said. "You're overdoing it. Get the wretched +stuff out of your head for a bit, and let's have a smoke before +dinner. I'll bring her out to you next winter. See if I don't!" + +Will turned towards him impulsively. "Oh, man, if you only could!" + +"Only could!" echoed Nick. "I tell you I will. Ten quid on it if you +like. Is it done?" + +But Will shook his head with a queer, unsteady smile. "No, it +isn't. But come along and smoke, or you will be having that infernal +neuralgia again. It was confoundedly good of you to look me up like +this when you weren't fit for it." + +Nick laughed aloud. "Man alive! You don't suppose I did it for your +sake, do you? Don't you know I wanted to break the journey to the +coast?" + +"Odd place to choose!" commented Will. + +Nick arose in his own peculiarly abrupt fashion, and thrust his hand +through his friend's arm. + +"Perhaps I thought a couple of days of your society would cheer me +up," he observed lightly. "I daresay that seems odd too." + +Will laughed in spite of himself. "Well, you've seen me with my +nose to the grindstone anyhow. You can tell Daisy I'm working like a +troop-horse for her and the boy! Jove! What a knowing little beggar +that youngster used to be! He isn't very strong though, Daisy writes." + +"How often do you hear?" asked Nick. + +"Oh, the last letter came three weeks ago. They were all well then, +but she didn't stop to say much because Grange was there. He is +staying with them, you know." + +"You haven't heard since then?" There was just a hint of indignation +in Nick's query. + +Will shook his head. "No. She's a bad correspondent, always was. I +write by every mail, and of course, if there were anything I ought +to know, she would write too. But they are leading a fairly humdrum +existence just now. She can't have much to tell me." + +Nick changed the subject. "How long has Grange been there?" + +"I don't know. Some time, I think. But I really don't know. They are +very old pals, you know, he and Daisy. There was a bit of a romance +between them, I believe, years ago, when she was in her teens. Their +people wouldn't hear of it because they were first cousins, so it +fizzled out. But they are still great friends. A good sort of fellow, +I always thought." + +"Too soft for me," said Nick. "He's like a well-built ship adrift +without a rudder. He's all manners and no grit--the sort of chap who +wants to be pushed before he can do anything. I often ached to kick +him when we were boxed up at Wara." + +Will smiled. "The only drawback to indulging in that kind of game +is that you may get kicked back, and a kick from a giant like Grange +would be no joke." + +Nick looked supremely contemptuous. "Fellows like Grange don't kick. +They don't know how. That's why I had to leave him alone." + +He turned into Will's sitting-room and stretched himself out upon an +ancient _charpoy_ furnished with many ancient cushions that stood by +the window. + +Will gave him a cigarette, and lighted it. "I wonder how many nights I +have spent on that old shake-down," he remarked, as he did it. + +Nick glanced upwards. "Last year?" + +Will nodded. "It was like hell," he said, with terrible simplicity. "I +came straight back here, you know, after Daisy left Simla. I suppose +the contrast made it worse. Then, too, the sub was ill, and it meant +double work. Well," with another sigh, "we pulled through somehow, +and I suppose we shall again. But, Nick, Daisy couldn't possibly stand +this place more than four months out of the twelve. And as for the +kiddie--" + +Nick removed his cigarette to yawn. + +"You won't be here all your life, my son," he said. "You're a rising +man, remember. There's no sense in grizzling, anyhow, and you're +getting round-shouldered. Why don't you do some gymnastics? You've +got a swimming bath. Go and do a quarter of a mile breast-stroke every +day. Jupiter! What wouldn't I give to"--He broke off abruptly. "Well, +I'm not going to cry for the moon either. There's the _khit_ on the +verandah. What does he want?" + +Will went out to see. Nick, idly watching, saw the native hand him +something on a salver which Will took to the lamp by which he had been +working. Dead silence ensued. From far away there came the haunting +cry of a jackal, but near at hand there was no sound. A great +stillness hung upon all things. + +To Nick, lying at full length upon the cushions, there presently came +the faint sound of paper crackling, and a moment later his friend's +voice, pitched very low, spoke to the waiting servant. He heard the +man softly retire, and again an intense stillness reigned. + +He could not see Will from where he lay, and he smoked on placidly for +nearly five minutes in the belief that he was either answering +some communication or looking over his work. Then at last, growing +impatient of the prolonged silence, he lifted his voice without +moving. + +"What in the world are you doing, you unsociable beggar? Can't you +tear yourself away from that beastly work for one night even? Come in +here and entertain me. You won't have the chance to-morrow." + +There was no reply. Only from far away there came again the weird yell +of a jackal. For a few seconds more Nick lay frowning. Then swiftly +and quietly he arose, and stepped to the window. + +There he stopped dead as if in sudden irresolution; for Will was sunk +upon his knees by the table with his head upon his work and his arms +flung out with clenched hands in an attitude of the most utter, the +most anguished despair. He made no sound of any sort; only, as Nick +watched, his bowed shoulders heaved once convulsively. + +It was only for a moment that Nick stood hesitating. The next, obeying +an impulse that he never stopped to question, he moved straight +forward to Will's side; and then saw--what he had not at first seen--a +piece of paper crumpled and gripped in one of his hands. + +He bent over him and spoke rapidly, but without agitation. "Hullo, old +boy! What is it! Bad news, eh?" + +Will started and groaned, then sharply turned his face upwards. It was +haggard and drawn and ghastly, but even then its boyishness remained. + +He spoke at once, replying to Nick in short, staccato tones. "I've +had a message--just come through. It's the kiddie--our little chap--he +died--last night." + +Nick heard the news in silence. After a moment he stooped forward and +took the paper out of Will's hand, thrusting it away without a glance +into his own pocket. Then he took him by the arm and hoisted him up. +"Come inside!" he said briefly. + +Will went with him blindly, too stricken to direct his own movements. + +And so he presently found himself crouching forward in a chair staring +at Nick's steady hand mixing whiskey and water in a glass at his +elbow. As Nick held it towards him he burst into sudden, wild speech. + +"I've lost her!" he exclaimed harshly. "I've lost her! It was only the +kiddie that bound us together. She never cared a half-penny about +me. I always knew I should never hold her unless we had a child. And +now--and now--" + +"Easy!" said Nick. "Easy! Just drink this like a good chap. There's no +sense in letting yourself go." + +Will drank submissively, and covered his face. "Oh, man," he whispered +brokenly, "you don't know what it is to be despised by the one being +in the world you worship." + +Nick said nothing. His lips twitched a little, that was all. + +But when several miserable seconds had dragged away and Will had +not moved, he bent suddenly down and put his arm round the huddled +shoulders. "Keep a stiff upper lip, old chap," he urged gently. "Don't +knock under. She'll be coming to you for comfort presently." + +"Not she!" groaned Will. "I shall never get near her again. She'll +never come back to me. I know. I know." + +"Don't be a fool!" said Nick still gently. "You don't know. Of course +she will come back to you. If you stick to her, she'll stick to you." + +Will made a choked sound of dissent. Nevertheless, after a moment he +raised his quivering face, and gripped hard the hand that pressed his +shoulder. "Thanks, dear fellow! You're awfully good. Forgive me for +making an ass of myself. I--I was awfully fond of the little nipper +too. Poor Daisy! She'll be frightfully cut up." He broke off, biting +his lips. + +"Do you know," he said presently in a strained whisper, "I've wanted +her sometimes--so horribly, that--that I've even been fool enough to +pray about it." + +He glanced up as he made this confidence, half expecting to read +ridicule on the alert face above him, but the expression it wore +surprised him. It was almost a fighting look, and wholly free from +contempt. + +Nick seated himself on the edge of the table, and smote him on the +shoulder. "My dear chap," he said, with a sudden burst of energy, +"you're only at the beginning of things. It isn't just praying now and +then that does it. You've got to keep up the steam, never slack for an +instant, whatever happens. The harder going it is, the more likely +you are to win through if you stick to it. But directly you slack, +you lose ground. If you've only got the grit to go on praying, praying +hard, even against your own convictions, you'll get it sooner or +later. You are bound to get it. They say God doesn't always grant +prayer because the thing you want may not do you any good. That's +gammon--futile gammon. If you want it hard enough, and keep on +clamouring for it, it becomes the very thing of all others you +need--the great essential. And you'll get it for that very reason. +It's sheer pluck that counts, nothing else--the pluck to go on +fighting when you know perfectly well you're beaten, the pluck to hang +on and worry, worry, worry, till you get your heart's desire." + +He sprang up with a wide-flung gesture. "I'm doing it myself," he +said, and his voice rang with a certain grim elation. "I'm doing it +myself. And God knows I sha'n't give Him any peace till I'm satisfied. +I may be small, but if I were no bigger than a mosquito, I'd keep on +buzzing." + +He walked to the end of the room, stood for a second, and came slowly +back. + +Will was looking at him oddly, almost as if he had never seen him +before. + +"Do you know," he said, smiling faintly, "I always thought you were a +rotter." + +"Most people do," said Nick. "I believe it's my physiognomy that's +at fault. What can any one expect from a fellow with a face like an +Egyptian mummy? Why, I've been mistaken for the devil himself before +now." He spoke with a semi-whimsical ruefulness, and, having spoken, +he went to the window and stood there with his face to the darkness. + +"Hear that jackal, Will?" he suddenly said. "The brute is hungry. You +bet, he won't go empty away." + +"Jackals never do," said Will, with his weary sigh. + +Nick turned round. "It shows what faithless fools we are," he said. + +In the silence that followed, there came again to them, clear through +the stillness, and haunting in its persistence, the crying of the +beast that sought its meat from God. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +A SCENTED LETTER + + +There is no exhaustion more complete or more compelling than the +exhaustion of grief, and it is the most restless temperaments that +usually suffer from it the most keenly. It is those who have watched +constantly, tirelessly, selflessly, for weeks or even months, for whom +the final breakdown is the most utter and the most heartrending. + +To Daisy, lying silent in her darkened room, the sudden ending of the +prolonged strain, the cessation of the anxiety that had become a part +of her very being, was more intolerable than the sense of desolation +itself. It lay upon her like a physical, crushing weight, this absence +of care, numbing all her faculties. She felt that the worst had +happened to her, the ultimate blow had fallen, and she cared for +nought besides. + +In those first days of her grief she saw none but Muriel and the +doctor. Jim Ratcliffe was more uneasy about her than he would +admit. He knew as no one else knew what the strain had been upon the +over-sensitive nerves, and how terribly the shock had wrenched them. +He also knew that her heart was still in a very unsatisfactory state, +and for many hours he dreaded collapse. + +He was inclined to be uneasy upon Muriel's account as well, at first, +but she took him completely by surprise. Without a question, without a +word, simply as a matter of course, she assumed the position of +nurse and constant companion to her friend. Her resolution and steady +self-control astonished him, but he soon saw that these were qualities +upon which he could firmly rely. She had put her own weakness behind +her, and in face of Daisy's utter need she had found strength. + +He suffered her to have her way, seeing how close was the bond of +sympathy between them, and realising that the very fact of supporting +Daisy would be her own support. + +"You are as steady-going as a professional," he told her once. + +To which she answered with her sad smile, "I served my probation in +the school of sorrow last year. I am only able to help her because I +know what it is to sit in ashes." + +He patted her shoulder and called her a good girl. He was growing very +fond of her, and in his blunt, unflattering way he let her know it. + +Certain it was that in those terrible days following her bereavement, +Daisy clung to her as she had never before clung to any one, scarcely +speaking to her, but mutely leaning upon her steadfast strength. + +Muriel saw but little of Blake though he was never far away. He +wandered miserably about the house and garden, smoking endless +cigarettes, and invariably asking her with a piteous, dog-like +wistfulness whenever they met if there were nothing that he could do. +There never was anything, but she had not the heart to tell him +so, and she used to invent errands for him to make him happier. She +herself did not go beyond the garden for many days. + +One evening, about three weeks after her baby's death, Daisy heard his +step on the gravel below her window and roused herself a little. + +"Who is taking care of Blake?" she asked. + +Muriel glanced down from where she sat at the great listless figure +nearing the house. "I think he is taking care of himself," she said. + +"All alone?" said Daisy. + +"Yes, dear." + +Daisy uttered a sudden hard sigh. "You mustn't spend all your time +with me any longer," she said. "I have been very selfish. I forgot. Go +down to him, Muriel." + +Muriel looked up, struck by something incomprehensible in her +tone. "You know I like to be with you," she said. "And of course he +understands." + +But Daisy would not be satisfied. "That may be. But--but--I want you +to go to him. He is lonely, poor boy. I can hear it in his step. I +always know." + +Wondering at her persistence, and somewhat reluctant, Muriel rose +to comply. As she was about to pass her, with a swift movement Daisy +caught her hand and drew her down. + +"I want you--so--to be happy, dearest," she whispered, a quick note of +passion in her voice. "It's better for you--it's better for you--to +be together. I'm not going to monopolise you any longer. I will try +to come down to-morrow, if Jim will let me. It's hockey day, isn't it? +You must go and play as usual, you and he." + +She was quivering with agitation as she pressed her lips to the girl's +cheek. Muriel would have embraced her, but she pushed her softly away. +"Go--go, dear," she insisted. "I wish it." + +And Muriel went, seeing that she would not otherwise be pacified. + +She found Blake depressed indeed, but genuinely pleased to see her, +and she walked in the garden with him in the soft spring twilight till +the dinner hour. + +Just as they were about to go in, the postman appeared with foreign +letters for them both, which proved to be from Sir Reginald and Lady +Bassett. + +The former had written briefly but very kindly to Grange, signifying +his consent to his engagement to his ward, and congratulating him upon +having won her. To Muriel he sent a fatherly message, telling her of +his pleasure at hearing of her happiness, and adding that he hoped she +would return to them in the following autumn to enable him to give her +away. + +Grange put his arm round his young _fiancée_ as he read this passage +aloud, but she only stood motionless within it, not yielding to his +touch. It even seemed to him that she stiffened slightly. He looked at +her questioningly and saw that she was very pale. + +"What is it?" he asked gently. "Will that be too soon for you?" + +She met his eyes frankly, but with unmistakable distress. "I--I didn't +think it would be quite so soon, Blake," she faltered. "I don't want +to be married at present. Can't we go on as we are for a little? Shall +you mind?" + +Blake's face wore a puzzled look, but it was wholly free from +resentment. He answered her immediately and reassuringly. + +"Of course not, dear. It shall be just when you like. Why should you +be hurried?" + +She gave him a smile of relief and gratitude, and he stooped and +kissed her forehead with a soothing tenderness that he might have +bestowed upon a child. + +It was with some reluctance that she opened Lady Bassett's letter +in his presence, but she felt that she owed him this small mark of +confidence. + +There was a strong aroma of attar of roses as she drew it from the +envelope, and she glanced at Grange with an expression of disgust. + +"What is the matter?" he asked. "Nothing wrong, I hope?" + +"It's only the scent," she explained, concealing a faint sense of +irritation. + +He smiled. "Don't you like it? I thought all women did." + +"My dear Blake!" she said, and shuddered. + +The next minute she threw a sharp look over her shoulder, suddenly +assailed by an uncanny feeling that Nick was standing grimacing at +her elbow. She saw his features so clearly for the moment with his +own peculiarly hideous grimace upon them that she scarcely persuaded +herself that her fancy had tricked her. But there was nothing but the +twilight of the garden all around her, and Blake's huge bulk by her +side, and she promptly dismissed the illusion, not without a sense of +shame. + +With a gesture of impatience she unfolded Lady Bassett's letter. It +commenced "Dearest Muriel," and proceeded at once in terms of flowing +elegance to felicitate her upon her engagement to Blake Grange. + +"In according our consent," wrote Lady Bassett, "Sir Reginald and I +have not the smallest scruple or hesitation. Only, dearest, for Blake +Grange's sake as well as for your own, make quite sure _this time_ +that your mind is fully made up, and your choice final." + +When Muriel read this passage a deep note of resentment crept into her +voice, and she lifted a flushed face. + +"It may be very wicked," she said deliberately, "but I hate Lady +Bassett." + +Grange looked astonished, even mildly shocked. But Muriel returned to +the letter before he could reply. + +It went on to express regret that the writer could not herself +return to England for the summer to assist her in the purchase of her +trousseau and to chaperon her back to India in the autumn; but her +sister, Mrs. Langdale, who lived in London, would she was sure, be +delighted to undertake the part of adviser in the first case, and in +the second she would doubtless be able to find among her many friends +who would be travelling East for the winter, one who would take charge +of her. No reference was made to Daisy till the end of the letter, +when the formal hope was expressed that Mrs. Musgrave's health had +benefited by the change. + +"She dares to disapprove of Daisy for some reason," Muriel said, +closing the letter with the rapidity of exasperation. + +Grange did not ask why. He was engrossed in brushing a speck of mud +from his sleeve, and she was not sure that he even heard her remark. + +"You--I suppose you are not going to bother about a trousseau yet +then?" he asked rather awkwardly. + +She shook her head with vehemence. "No, no, of course not. Why should +I hurry? Besides, I am in mourning." + +"Exactly as you like," said Grange gently. "My leave will be up in +September, as you know, but I am not bound to stay in the Army. I will +send in my papers if you wish it." + +Muriel looked at him in amazement. "Send in your papers! Why no, +Blake! I wouldn't have you do it for the world. I never dreamed of +such a thing." + +He smiled good-humouredly. "Well, of course, I should be sorry to +give up polo, but there are plenty of other things I could take to. +Personally, I like a quiet existence." + +Was there just a shade of scorn in Muriel's glance as it fell away +from him? It would have been impossible for any bystander to say with +certainty, but there was without doubt a touch of constraint in her +voice as she made reply. + +"Yes. You are quite the most placid person I know. But please don't +think of leaving the Army for my sake. I am a soldier's daughter +remember. And--I like soldiers." + +Her lip quivered as she turned to enter the house. Her heart at that +moment was mourning over a soldier's unknown grave. But Grange did not +know it, did not even see that she was moved. + +His eyes were raised to an upper window at which a dim figure stood +looking out into the shadows. And he was thinking of other things. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE ETERNAL FLAME + + +Daisy maintained her resolution on the following day, and though she +did not speak again of going downstairs, she insisted that Muriel +should return to the hockey-field and resume her place in Olga's team. +It was the last match of the season, and she would not hear of her +missing it. + +"You and Blake are both to go," she said. "I won't have either of you +staying at home for me." + +But Blake, when Muriel conveyed this message to him, moodily shook his +head. "I'm not going. I don't want to. You must, of course. It will do +you good. But I couldn't play if I went. I've strained my wrist." + +"Oh, have you?" Muriel said, with concern. "What a nuisance! How did +you manage it?" + +He reddened, and looked slightly ashamed. "I vaulted the gate into the +meadow this morning. Idiotic thing to do. But I shall be all right. +Never mind about me. I shall smoke in the garden. I may go for a +walk." + +Thus pressed on all sides, though decidedly against her own +inclination, Muriel went. The day was showery with brilliant +intervals. Grange saw her off at the field-gate. + +"Plenty of mud," he remarked. + +"Yes, I shall be a spectacle when I come back. Good-bye! Take care of +yourself." Muriel's hand rested for an instant on his arm, and then +she was gone--a slim, short-skirted figure walking swiftly over the +grass. + +He stood leaning on the gate watching her till a clump of trees +intervened between them, then lazily he straightened himself and began +to stroll back up the garden. He was not smoking. His face wore a +heavy, almost a sullen, look. He scarcely raised his eyes from the +ground as he walked. + +Nearing the house the sudden sound of a window being raised made +him look up, and in an instant, swift as a passing cloud-shadow, his +moodiness was gone. Daisy was leaning on her window-sill, looking down +upon him. + +Though she had not spoken to him for weeks, she gave him no greeting. +Her voice even sounded a trifle sharp. + +"What are you loafing there for?" she demanded. "Why didn't you go +with Muriel to the hockey?" + +He hesitated for a single instant. Then--for he never lied to +Daisy--quite honestly he made reply. "I didn't want to." + +Her pale face frowned down at him, though the eyes had a soft light +that was like a mother's indulgence for her wayward child. + +"How absurd you are! How can you be so lazy? I won't have it, Blake. +Do you hear?" + +He moved forward a few steps till he was immediately below her, and +there stood with uplifted face. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Do!" echoed Daisy. "Why, anything--anything rather than nothing. +There's the garden-roller over there by the tool-shed. Go and get it, +and roll the lawn." + +He went off obediently without another word, and presently the clatter +of the roller testified to his submissive fulfilment of her command. +He did not look up again. Simply, with his coat off and shirt-sleeves +turned above his elbows, he tackled his arduous task, labouring up and +down in the soft spring rain, patient and tireless as an ox. + +He had accomplished about half his job when again Daisy's voice broke +imperiously in upon him. + +"Blake! Blake! Come in! You'll get wet to the skin." + +He stopped at once, straightening his great frame with a sigh of +relief. Daisy was standing at the drawing-room window. + +He pulled on his coat and went to join her. + +She came to meet him with sharp reproach. "Why are you so foolish? +I believe you would have gone on rolling if there had been an +earthquake. You must be wet through and through." She ran her little +thin hand over him. "Yes, I knew you were. You must go and change." + +But Grange's fingers closed with quiet intention upon her wrist. He +was looking down at her with the faithful adoration of a dumb animal. + +"Not yet," he said gently. "Let me see you while I can." + +She made a quick movement as if his grasp hurt her, and in an instant +she was free. + +"Yes, but let us be sensible," she said. "Don't let us talk about hard +things. I'm very tired, you know, Blake. You must make it easy for +me." + +There was a piteous note of appeal in her voice. She sat down with +her back to the light. He could see that her hands were trembling, but +because of her appeal he would not seem to see it. + +"Don't you think a change would be good for you?" he suggested. + +"I don't know," she answered. "Jim says so. He wants me to go to +Brethaven. It's only ten miles away, and he would motor over and look +after me. But I don't think it much matters. I'm not particularly fond +of the sea. And Muriel assures me she doesn't mind." + +"Isn't it at Brethaven that Nick Ratcliffe owns a place?" asked +Grange. + +"Yes. Redlands is the name. I went there once with Will. It's a +beautiful place on the cliff--quite thrown away on Nick, though, +unless he marries, which he never will now." + +Grange looked uncomfortable. "It's not my fault," he remarked bluntly. + +"No, I know," said Daisy, with a faint echo of her old light laugh. +"Nothing ever was, or could be, your fault, dear old Blake. You're +just unlucky sometimes, aren't you? That's all." + +Blake frowned a little. "I play a straight game--generally," he said. + +"Yes, dear, but you almost always drive into a bunker," Daisy +insisted. "It's not your fault, as we said before. It's just your +misfortune." + +She never flattered Blake. It was perhaps the secret of her charm for +him. To other women he was something of a paladin; to Daisy he was no +more than a man--a man moreover of many weaknesses, each one of which +she knew, each one of which was in a fashion dear to her. + +"We will have some tea, shall we?" she said, as he sat silently +digesting her criticism. "I must try and write to Will presently. I +haven't written to him since--since--" She broke off short and began +again. "I got Muriel to write for me once. But he keeps writing by +every mail. I wish he wouldn't." + +Grange got up and walked softly to the window. "When do you think of +going back?" he asked. + +"I don't know." There was a keen note of irritation in the reply. +Daisy leaned suddenly forward, her fingers locked together. "You +might as well ask me when I think of dying," she said, with abrupt and +startling bitterness. + +Grange remained stationary, not looking at her. "Is it as indefinite +as that?" he asked presently. + +"Yes, quite." She spoke recklessly, even defiantly. "Where would be +the use of my going to a place I couldn't possibly live in for more +than four months in the year? Besides--besides--" But again, as if +checked by some potent inner influence, she broke off short. Her +white face quivered suddenly, and she turned it aside. Her hands were +convulsively clenched upon each other. + +Her cousin did not move. He seemed to be unaware of her agitation. +Simply with much patience he waited for her end of the sentence. + +It came at last in a voice half-strangled. She was making almost +frantic efforts to control herself. "Besides, I couldn't stand +it--yet. I am not strong enough. And he--he wouldn't understand, poor +boy. I think--I honestly think--I am better away from him for the +present" + +Blake made no further inquiries. From Daisy's point of view, he seemed +to be standing motionless, but in reality he was quite unconsciously, +though very deliberately, pulling the tassel of the blind-cord to +shreds. + +The clouds had passed, and the sun blazed down full upon him, throwing +his splendid outline into high relief. Every detail of his massive +frame was strongly revealed. There was about him a species of careless +magnificence, wholly apart from arrogance, unfettered, superb. + +To Daisy, familiar as she was with every line of him, the sudden +revelation of the sunlight acted like a charm. She had been hiding her +eyes for many days from all light, veiling them in the darkness of her +grief, and the splendour of the man fairly dazzled her. It rushed +upon her, swift, overmastering as a tidal wave, and before it even the +memory of her sorrow grew dim. + +Blake, turning at last, met her eyes fixed full upon him with that in +their expression which no man could ignore. She had not expected him +to turn. The movement disconcerted her. With a sharp jerk She averted +her face, seeking to cover that momentary slip, to persuade him +even then, if it were possible, into the belief that he had not seen +aright. + +But it was too late. That unguarded look of hers had betrayed her, +rending asunder in an instant the veil with which for years she had +successfully baffled him. + +In a second he was on his knees beside her, his arms about her, +holding her with a close and passionate insistence. + +"Daisy!" he whispered huskily. And again, "Daisy!" + +And Daisy turned with a sudden deep sob and hid her face upon his +breast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE EAGLE CAGED + + +In spite of Olga's ecstatic welcome, Muriel took her place on the +hockey-field that afternoon with a heavy heart. Her long attendance +upon Daisy had depressed her. But gradually, as the play proceeded, +she began to forget herself and her troubles. The spring air +exhilarated her, and when they returned to the field after a sharp +shower her spirits had risen. She became even childishly gay in the +course of a hotly-contested battle, and the sadness gradually died +out of her eyes. She had grown less shy, less restrained, than of old. +Youth and health, and a dawning, unconscious beauty had sprung to life +upon her face. She was no longer the frightened, bereft child of Simla +days. She no longer hid a monstrous fear in her heart. She had put it +all away from her wisely, resolutely, as a tale that is told. + +The wild wind had blown the hair all loose about her face by the time +the last goal was won. Hatless, flushed, and laughing, she drew back +from the fray, Olga, elated by victory, clinging to her arm. It was a +moment of keen triumph, for the fight had been hard, and she enjoyed +it to the full as she stood there with her face to the sudden, +scudding rain. The glow of exercise had braced every muscle. Every +pulse was beating with warm, vigorous life. + +She laughed aloud in sheer exultation, a low, merry laugh, and turned +with Olga to march in triumphant procession from the field. + +In that instant from a gate a few yards away that led into the road +there sounded the short, imperious note of a motor-horn, repeated many +times in a succession of sharp blasts. Every one stood to view the +intruder with startled curiosity for perhaps five seconds. Then there +came a sudden squeal of rapture from Olga, and in a moment she had +torn her arm free and was gone, darting like a swallow over the turf. + +Muriel stood looking after her, but she was as one turned to stone. +She was no longer aware of the children grouped around her. She no +longer saw the fleeting sunshine, or felt the drift of rain in her +face. Something immense and suffocating had closed about her heart. +Her racing pulses had ceased to beat. + +A figure familiar to her--a man's figure, unimposing in height, +unremarkable in build, but straight, straight as his own +sword-blade--had bounded from the car and scaled the intervening gate +with monkey-like agility. + +He met the child's wild rush with one arm extended; the other--Muriel +frowned sharply, peering with eyes half closed, then uttered a queer +choked sound that had the semblance of a laugh--in place of the other +arm there was an empty sleeve. + +Through the rush of the wind she heard his voice. + +"Hullo, kiddie, hullo! Hope I don't intrude. I've come over on purpose +to pay my respects." + +Olga's answer did not reach her. She was hanging round her hero's +neck, and her head was down upon Nick's shoulder. It seemed to Muriel +that she was crying, but if so, she received scant sympathy from the +object of her solicitude. His cracked, gay laugh rang out across the +field. + +"What? Why, yesterday, to be sure. Spent the night in town. No, I know +I didn't. Never meant to. Wanted to steal a march on you all. Why not? +I say, is that--Muriel?" + +For the first time he seemed to perceive her, and instantly with a +dexterous movement he had disengaged himself from Olga's clinging arms +and was briskly approaching her. Two of the doctor's boys sprang to +greet him, but he waved them airily aside. + +"All right, you chaps, in a minute! Where's Dr. Jim? Go and tell him +I'm here." + +And then in a couple of seconds more they were face to face. + +Muriel stared at him speechlessly. She felt cold from head to foot. +She had known that he was coming. She had been steeling herself for +weeks to meet him in an armour of conventional reserve. But all her +efforts had come to this. Swift, swift as the wind over wheat, his +coming swept across her new-born confidence. It wavered and bent its +head. + +"Does your Excellency deign to remember the least and humblest of her +servants?" queried Nick, with a deep salaam. + +The laugh in his tone brought her sharply back to the demand of +circumstance. Before the watching crowd of children, she forced her +white lips to smile in answer, and in a moment she had recovered her +self-possession. She remembered with a quick sense of relief that this +man's power over her belonged to the past alone--to the tale that was +told. + +The hand she held out to him was almost steady. "Yes, I remember you, +Nick," she said, with chilly courtesy. "I am sorry you have been ill. +Are you better?" + +He made a queer grimace at her words, and for the second that her hand +lay in his, she knew that he looked at her closely, piercingly. + +"Thanks--awfully," he said. "As you may have noticed, there is a +little less of me than there used to be. I hope you think it's an +improvement." + +She felt as if he had flung back her conventional sympathy in her +face, and she stiffened instinctively. "I am sorry to see it," she +returned icily. + +Nick laughed enigmatically. "I thought you would be. Well, Olga, my +child, what do you mean by growing up like this in my absence? You +used to be just the right size for a kid, and now you are taller than +I am." + +"I'm not, Nick," the child declared with warmth. "And I never will be, +there!" + +She slid her arm again round his neck. Her eyes were full of tears. + +Nick turned swiftly and bestowed a kiss upon the face which, though +the face of a child, was so remarkably like his own. + +"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" he said. + +"There's no need," said Olga, hugging him closer. "They all know +Captain Ratcliffe of Wara. Why haven't you got the V.C., Nick, like +Captain Grange?" + +"Didn't qualify for it," returned Nick. "You see, I only distinguished +myself by running away. Hullo! It's raining. Just run and tell the +chauffeur to drive round to the house. You can go with him. And take +your friends too. It'll carry you all. I'm going the garden way with +Muriel." + +Muriel realised the impossibility of frustrating this plan, though the +last thing in the world that she desired was to be alone with him. +But the distance to the house was not great. As the children scampered +away to the waiting motor-car she moved briskly to leave the field. + +Nick walked beside her with his free, elastic swagger. In a few +moments he reached out and took her hockey-stick from her. + +"Jove!" he said. "It did me good to see you shoot that goal." + +"I had no idea you were watching," she returned stiffly. + +He grinned. "No, I saw that. Fun, wasn't it? Like to know what I said +to myself?" + +She made no answer, and his grin became a laugh. "I'm sure you would, +so I'll tell you. I said, 'Prayer Number One is granted,' and I ticked +it off the list, and duly acknowledged the same." + +Muriel was plainly mystified. He was in the mood that most baffled +her. "I don't know what you mean," she said at last. + +Nick swung the hockey-stick idly. His yellow face, for all its +wrinkles, looked peculiarly complacent. + +"Let me explain," he said coolly; "I wanted to see you young again, +and--my want has been satisfied, that's all." + +Muriel looked sharply away from him, the vivid colour rushing all over +her face. She remembered--and the memory seemed to stab her--a day +long, long ago when she had lain in this man's arms in the extremity +of helpless suffering, and had heard him praying above her head, +brokenly, passionately, for something far different--something from +which she had come to shrink with a nameless, overmastering dread. + +She quickened her pace in the silence that followed. The rain was +coming down sharply. Reaching the door that led into the doctor's +walled garden, she stretched out her hand with impetuous haste to push +it open. + +Instantly, with disconcerting suddenness, Nick dropped the +hockey-stick and swooped upon it like a bird of prey. + +"Who gave you that?" he demanded. + +He had spied a hoop of diamonds upon her third finger. She could +not see his eyes under the flickering lids, but he held her wrist +forcibly, and it seemed to her that there was a note of savagery in +his voice. + +Her heart beat fast for a few seconds, so fast that she could not find +her voice. Then, almost under her breath, "Blake gave it to me," she +said. "Blake Grange." + +"Yes?" said Nick. "Yes?" + +Suddenly he looked straight at her, and his eyes were alight, fierce, +glowing. But she felt a curious sense of scared relief, as if he were +behind bars,--an eagle caged, of which she need have no fear. + +"We are engaged to be married," she said quietly. + +There fell a momentary silence, and a voice cried out in her soul that +she had stabbed him through the bars. + +Then in a second Nick dropped her hands and stooped to pick up the +hockey-stick. His face as he stood up again flashed back to its old, +baffling gaiety. + +"What ho!" he said lightly. "Then I'm in time to dance at the wedding. +Pray accept my heartiest congratulations!" + +Muriel murmured her thanks with her face averted. She was no longer +afraid merely, but strangely, inexplicably ashamed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE LION'S SKIN + + +The news of Nick's return spread like wildfire through the doctor's +house, and the whole establishment assembled to greet him. Jim himself +came striding out into the rain to shake his hand and escort him in. + +His "Hullo, you scapegrace!" had in it little of sentiment, but there +was nothing wanting in his welcome in the opinion of the recipient +thereof. + +Nick's rejoinder of "Hullo, you old buffer!" was equally free from any +gloss of eloquence, but he hooked his hand in the doctor's arm as he +made it, and kept it there. + +Jim gave him one straight, keen look that took in every detail, but he +made no verbal comment of any sort. His heavy brows drew together for +an instant, that was all. + +It was an exceedingly clamorous home-coming. The children, having +arrived in the motor, swarmed all about the returned hero, who was +more than equal to the occasion, and obviously enjoyed his boisterous +reception to the uttermost. There never had been any shyness about +Nick. + +Muriel, standing watching in the background with a queer, +unaccountable pain at her heart, assured herself that the news of +her engagement had meant nothing to him whatever. He had managed +to deceive her as usual. She realised it with burning cheeks, and +ardently wished that she had borne herself more proudly. Well, she was +not wanted here. Even Olga, her faithful and loving admirer, had eyes +only for Nick just then. As for Dr. Jim, he had not even noticed her. + +Quietly she stole away from the merry, chattering group. The hall-door +stood open, and she saw that it was raining heavily; but she did not +hesitate. With a haste that was urged from within by something that +was passionate, she ran out hatless into the storm. + +The cracked, careless laugh she knew so well pursued her as she went, +and once she fancied that some one called her by name. But she did +not slacken speed to listen. She only dashed on a little faster than +before. + +Drenched and breathless, she reached home at length, to be met upon +the threshold by Blake. In her exhaustion she almost fell into his +arms. + +"Hullo!" he said, steadying her. "You shouldn't run like that. I never +dreamed you would come back in this, or I would have come across with +an umbrella to fetch you." + +She sank into a chair in the hall, speechless and gasping, her hair +hanging about her neck in wildest disorder. + +Blake stood beside her. He was wearing his worried, moody look. + +"You shouldn't," he said again. "It's horribly bad for you." + +"Ah, I'm better," she gasped back. "I had to run--all the way--because +of the rain." + +"But why didn't you wait?" said Blake. "What were they thinking of to +let you come in this down-pour?" + +"They couldn't help it." Muriel raised herself with a great sobbing +sigh. "It was nobody's fault but my own. I wanted to get away. Oh, +Blake, do you know--Nick is here?" + +Blake started. "What? Already? Do you mean he is actually in the +place?" + +She nodded. "He came up in a motor while we were playing. I suppose he +is staying at Redlands, but I don't know. And--and--Blake, he has +lost his left arm. It makes him look so queer." She gave a sudden, +uncontrollable shudder. The old dumb horror looked out of her eyes. +"I thought I shouldn't mind," she said, under her breath. "Perhaps--if +you had been there--it would have been different. As it was--as it +was--" She broke off, rising impetuously to her feet, and laying +trembling hands upon his arms. "Oh, Blake," she whispered, like a +scared child. "I feel so helpless. But you promised--you promised--you +would never let me go." + +Yes, he had promised her that. He had sworn it, and, sick at heart, +he remembered that in her eyes at least he was a man of honour. It +had been in his mind to tell her the simple truth, just so far as he +himself was concerned, and thereafter to place himself at her +disposal to act exactly as she should desire. But suddenly this was an +impossibility to him. He realised it with desperate self-loathing. +She trusted him. She looked to him for protection. She leaned upon +his strength. She needed him. He could not--it almost seemed as if in +common chivalry he could not--reveal to her the contemptible weakness +which lay like a withering blight upon his whole nature. To own +himself the slave of a married woman, and that woman her closest +friend, would be to throw her utterly upon her own resources at a +time when she most needed the support and guidance of a helping +hand. Moreover, the episode was over; so at least both he and Daisy +resolutely persuaded themselves. There had been a lapse--a vain and +futile lapse--into the long-cherished idyll of their romance. It +must never recur. It never should recur. It must be covered over +and forgotten as speedily as might be. They had come to their senses +again. They were ready, not only to thrust away the evil that had +dominated them, but to ignore it utterly as though it had never been. + +So, rapidly, the man reasoned with himself with the girl's hands +clasping his arm in earnest entreaty, and her eyes of innocence raised +to his. + +His answer when it came was slow and soft and womanly, but, in her +ears at least, there was nothing wanting in it. She never dreamed that +he was reviling himself for a blackguard even as he uttered it. + +"My dear little girl, there is nothing whatever for you to be afraid +of. You're a bit overstrung, aren't you? The man isn't living who +could take you from me." + +He patted her shoulder very kindly, soothing her with a patient, +almost fatherly tenderness, and gradually her panic of fear passed. +She leaned against him with a comforting sense of security. + +"I can't think how it is I'm so foolish," she told him. "You are good +to me, Blake. I feel so safe when I am with you." + +His heart smote him, yet he bent and kissed her. "You're not quite +strong yet, dear," he said. "It takes a long time to get over all that +you had to bear last year." + +"Yes," she agreed with a sigh. "And do you know I thought I was +so much stronger than I am? I actually thought that I shouldn't +mind--much--when he came. And yet I did mind--horribly. I--I--told him +about our engagement, Blake." + +"Yes, dear," said Blake. + +"Yes, I told him. And he laughed and offered his congratulations. +I don't think he cared," said Muriel, again with that curious, +inexplicable sensation of pain at her heart. + +"Why should he?" said Blake. + +She looked at him with momentary irresolution. "You know, Blake, I +never told you. But I was--I was--engaged to him for about a fortnight +that dreadful time at Simla." + +To her relief she marked no change in Blake's courteously attentive +face. + +"You need not have told me that, dear," he said quietly. + +"No, I know," she answered, pressing his arm. "It wouldn't make any +difference to you. You are too great. And it was always a little bit +against my will. But the breaking with him was terrible--terrible. He +was so angry. I almost thought he would have killed me." + +"My dear," Blake said, "you shouldn't dwell on these things. They are +better forgotten." + +"I know, I know," she answered. "But they are just the very hardest of +all things to forget. You must help me, Blake. Will you?" + +"I will help you," he answered steadily. + +And the resolution with which he spoke was an unspeakable comfort to +her. Once more there darted across her mind the wonder at her father's +choice for her. How was it--how was it--that he had passed over this +man and chosen Nick? + +Blake's own explanation of the mystery seemed to her suddenly weak and +inadequate. She simply could not bring herself to believe that in a +supreme moment he could be found wanting. It was unthinkable that the +giant frame and mighty sinews could belong to a personality that was +lacking in a corresponding greatness. + +So she clung to her illusion, finding comfort therein, wholly blind to +those failings in her protector which to the woman who had loved him +from her earliest girlhood were as obvious and well-nigh as precious +as his virtues. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +OLD FRIENDS MEET + + +"I must be getting back," said Nick. + +He was sprawling at ease on the sofa in Jim's study, blinking +comfortably at the ceiling, as he made this remark. + +Jim himself had just entered the room. He drew up a chair to Nick's +side. + +"You will be doing nothing of the sort to-night," he returned, with +a certain grimness. "The motor has gone back to Redlands for your +things. I saw to that an hour ago." + +"The deuce you did!" said Nick. He turned slightly to send a shifting +glance over his brother. "That was very officious of you, Jimmy," he +remarked. + +"Very likely," conceded the doctor. "I have to be officious +occasionally. And if you think that I mean to let you out of my sight +in your present state of health, you make a big mistake. No, lie +still, I tell you! You're like a monkey on wires. Lie still! Do you +hear me, Nick?" + +Nick's feet were already on the ground, but he did not rise. He sat +motionless, as if weighing some matter in his mind. + +"I can't stay with you, Jimmy," he said at last. "I'll spend to-night +of course with all the pleasure in the world. But I'm going back to +Redlands to-morrow. I have a fancy for sleeping in my own crib just +now. Come over and see me as often as you feel inclined, the oftener +the better. And if you care to bring your science to bear upon all +that is left of this infernally troublesome member of mine, I shall be +charmed to let you. You may vivisect me to your heart's content. But +don't ask me to be an in-patient, for it can't be done. There are +reasons." + +Jim frowned at him. "Do you know what will happen if you don't take +care of yourself?" he said brusquely. "You'll die." + +Nick burst into a laugh, and lay back on the cushions. "I was driven +out of India by that threat," he said. "It's getting a bit stale. +You needn't be afraid. I'm not going to die at present. I'll take +reasonable precautions to prevent it. But I won't stay here, that's +flat. I tell you, man, I can't." + +He glanced again at Jim, and, finding the latter closely watching him, +abruptly shut his eyes. + +"I'm going to open Redlands," he said, "and I will have Olga to come +and keep house for me. It'll be good practice for her. I'll take her +back with me to-morrow, if you have no objection." + +"Fine mischief you'll get up to, the pair of you," grumbled Jim. + +"Very likely," said Nick cheerily. "But we shan't come to any harm, +either of us. To begin with, I shall make her wait on me, hand and +foot. She'll like that, and so shall I." + +"Yes, you'll spoil her thoroughly." said Jim. "And I shall have the +pleasure of breaking her in afterwards." + +Nick laughed again. "What an old tyrant you are! But you needn't be +afraid of that. I'll make her do as she's told. I'm particularly good +at that. Ask Muriel Roscoe." + +Jim's frown deepened. "You know of that girl's engagement to Grange, I +suppose?" + +Nick did not trouble to open his eyes. "Oh, rather! She took care that +I should. I gave her my blessing." + +"Well, I don't like it," said Jim plainly. + +"What's the matter with him?" questioned Nick. + +"Nothing that I know of. But she isn't in love with him." + +Nick's eyelids parted a little, showing a glint between. "You funny +old ass!" he murmured affectionately. + +Jim leaned forward and looked at him hard. + +"Quite so," said Nick in answer, closing his eyes again. "But you +don't by any chance imagine she's in love with me, do you? You know +how a woman looks at a worm she has chopped in half by mistake? That's +how Muriel Roscoe looked at me to-day when she expressed her regret +for my mishap." + +"She wouldn't do that for nothing," observed Jim, with a hint of +sternness. + +"She wouldn't," Nick conceded placidly. + +"Then why the devil did you ever give her reason?" Jim spoke with +unusual warmth. Muriel was a favourite of his. + +But he obtained scant satisfaction notwithstanding. + +"Ask the devil," said Nick flippantly. "I never was good at +definitions." + +It was a tacit refusal to discuss the matter, and as such Jim accepted +it. + +He turned from the subject with a grunt of discontent. "Well, if I am +to undertake your case, you had better let me look at you. But we'll +have a clean understanding first, mind, that you obey my orders. I +won't be responsible otherwise." + +Nick opened his eyes with a chuckle. "I'll do anything under the sun +to please you, Jimmy," he said generously. "When did you ever find me +hard to manage?" + +"You've given me plenty of trouble at one time and another," Jim said +bluntly. + +"And shall again before I die," laughed Nick, as he submitted to his +brother's professional handling. "There's plenty of kick left in me. +By the way, tell me what you think about Daisy. I must call on her +to-morrow before I leave." + +This intention, however, was not fulfilled, for Daisy herself came +early to the doctor's house to visit him. Far from well though she +was, she made the effort as a matter of course. Nick was too near a +friend to neglect. Blake did not accompany her. He was riding with +Muriel. + +She found Nick stretched out in luxurious idleness on a couch in +the sunshine. He made a movement to spring to meet her, but checked +himself with a laugh. + +"This is awfully good of you, Daisy. I was coming to see you later, +but I'm nailed to this confounded sofa for the next two hours, having +solemnly sworn to Jim that nothing short of battle, murder or sudden +death should induce me to move. I'm afraid I can't reasonably describe +your coming as any of these, so I must remain a fixture. It's Jimmy's +rest cure." + +He reached out his hand to Daisy, who took it in both her own. "My +poor dear Nick!" she said, and stooping impulsively kissed him on the +forehead. + +"Bless you!" said Nick. "I'm ten times better for that. Sit down here, +won't you? Pull up close. I've got a lot to say." + +Of sympathy for her recent bereavement, however, he said no word +whatever. He only held her hand. + +"There's poor old Will," he said: "I spent the night with him on my +way down. He's beastly homesick--sent all sorts of messages to you. +You'll be going out in the winter?" + +"It depends," said Daisy. + +"He's breaking his heart for you, like a silly ass," said Nick. "How +long has Muriel been engaged to Grange?" + +Daisy started at the sudden question. + +"It's all right," Nick assured her. "I'm not a bit savage. It'll be a +little experience for her. When did it begin?" + +Daisy hesitated. "Some weeks ago now." + +Nick nodded. "Exactly. As soon as she heard I was coming. Funny of +her. And what of Grange? Is he smitten?" + +Daisy flushed painfully, and tried to laugh. "Don't be so +cold-blooded, Nick. Of course he--he's fond of her." + +"Oh, he--he's fond of her, is he?" said Nick. He looked at her +suddenly, and laughed with clenched teeth. "I'm infernally rude, I +know. But why put it in that way? Should you say I was 'fond' of her?" + +Daisy met his darting, elusive glance with a distinct effort. "I +shouldn't say you were fond of any one, Nick. The term doesn't +apply where you are concerned. There never were two men more totally +different than you and Blake. But he isn't despicable for all that. +He's a child compared to you, but he's a good child. He would never do +wrong unless some one tempted him." + +"That's so with a good many of us," remarked Nick, sneering faintly. +"Let us hope that when the account comes to be totted up, allowance +will be made." + +Daisy's hand upon his banished the sneer. "Be fair, Nick," she urged. +"We are not all made with wills of iron. I know you are bitter because +you think he isn't good enough for her. But would you think any man +good enough? Don't think I wanted this. I was on your side. But I--I +was busy at the time with--other things. And I didn't see it coming." + +Nick's face softened. He said nothing. + +She bent towards him. "I would have given anything to have stopped it +when I knew. But it was too late. Will you forgive me, Nick?" + +He patted her hand lightly. "Of course, of course. Don't fret on my +account." + +"But I do," she whispered vehemently. "I do. I know--how horribly--it +hurts." + +Nick's fingers closed suddenly upon hers. His eyes went beyond her. + +"Mrs. Musgrave," he said, "I am gifted with a superhuman intelligence, +remember. I know some cards by their backs." + +Daisy withdrew her hand swiftly. His tone had been one of warning. +She threw him a look of sharp uneasiness. She did not ask him what he +meant. + +"Tell me some more about Will," she said. "I was thinking of writing +to him to-day." + +And Nick forthwith plunged into a graphic account of the man who was +slaving night and day in the burning Plains of the East for the woman +of his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +AN OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP + + +It was with unspeakable relief that Muriel learned of Nick's +departure. That he had elected to take Olga with him surprised her +considerably and caused her some regret. Grange had discovered some +urgent business that demanded his presence in town, and she missed the +child in consequence more than she would otherwise have done. + +Daisy was growing stronger, and was beginning to contemplate a change, +moved at last by Jim Ratcliffe's persistent urging. There was a +cottage at Brethaven which, he declared, would suit her exactly. +Muriel raised no objection to the plan. She knew it would be for +Daisy's benefit, but her heart sank whenever she thought of it. She +was glad when early in June Blake came back to them for a few days +before starting on a round of visits. + +He approved of the Brethaven plan warmly, and he and Muriel rode over +one morning to the little seaside village to make arrangements. Muriel +said no more to him upon the subject of Nick. On this one point +she had come to know that it was vain to look for sympathy. He had +promised to help her indeed, but he simply did not understand +her nervous shrinking from the man. Moreover, Nick had made it so +abundantly evident that he had no intention of thrusting himself upon +her that there could be no ground for fear on that score. Besides, was +not her engagement her safeguard? + +As for Blake, her silence upon the matter made him hope that she was +getting over her almost childish panic. With all the goodwill in the +world, he could not see that his presence as watch-dog was required. + +Yet, as they turned from the cottage on the shore with their errand +accomplished, he did say after some hesitation, "Of course, if for +any reason you should want me when I am away, you must let me know. I +would come at once." + +She thanked him with a heightened colour, and he had a feeling that +his allusion had been unwelcome. They rode up from the beach in +silence. + +Turning a sharp corner towards the village where they proposed to +lunch, they came suddenly upon a motor stationary by the roadside. +A whoop of cheery recognition greeted them before either of them +realised that it was occupied, and they discovered Nick seated on the +step, working with his one hand at the foot-brake. Olga was with him, +endeavouring to assist. + +Nick's face grinned welcome impartially to the newcomers. "Hullo! This +is luck. Delighted to see you. Grange, my boy, here's a little job +exactly suited to your Herculean strength. Climb down like a good +fellow, and lend a hand." + +Grange glanced at Muriel, and with a slight shrug handed her his +bridle. "I'm not much good at this sort of thing," he remarked, as he +dismounted. + +"Never thought you were for a moment," responded Nick. "But I suppose +you can do as you're told at a pinch. This filthy thing has got +jammed. It's too tough a job for a single-handed pigmy like me." He +glanced quizzically up at Muriel with the last remark, but she quickly +averted her eyes, bending to speak to Olga at the same instant. + +Olga was living in the seventh heaven just then, and her radiant face +proclaimed it. "I'm learning to drive," she told Muriel. "It's the +greatest fun. You would just love it. I know you would." She stood +fondling the horses and chattering while the two men wrestled with the +motor's internal arrangements, and Muriel longed desperately to give +her animal the rein and flee away from the mocking sprite that gibed +at her from Nick's eyes. Whence came it, this feeling of insecurity, +this perpetual sense of fighting against the inevitable? She had +fancied that Blake's presence would be her safeguard, but now she +bitterly realised that it made no difference to her. He stood as it +were outside the ropes, and was powerless to intervene. + +Suddenly she saw them stand up. The business was done. They stood for +a second side by side--Blake gigantic, well-proportioned, splendidly +strong; Nick, meagre, maimed, almost shrunken, it seemed. But in that +second she knew with unerring conviction that the greater fighter of +the two was the man against whom she had pitted her quivering woman's +strength. She knew at a single glance that for all his bodily weakness +Nick possessed the power to dominate even so mighty a giant as Blake. +What she had said to herself many a time before, she said again. He +was abnormal, superhuman even; more--where he chose to exert himself, +he was irresistible. + +The realisation went through her, sharp and piercing, horribly +distinct. She had sought shelter like a frightened rabbit in the +densest cover she could find, but, crouching low, she heard the rush +of the remorseless wings above her. She knew that at any moment he +could rend her refuge to pieces and hold her at his mercy. + +Abruptly he left Blake and came to her side. "I want you and Grange to +come to Redlands for luncheon," he said. "Olga is hostess there. Don't +refuse." + +"Oh, do come!" urged Olga, dancing eagerly upon one leg. "You've never +been to Redlands, have you? It's such a lovely place. Say you'll come, +Muriel." + +Muriel scarcely heard her. She was looking down into Nick's face, +seeking, seeking for the hundredth time, to read that baffling mask. + +"Don't refuse," he said again. "You'll get nothing but underdone chops +at the inn here, and I can't imagine that to be a weakness of yours." + +She gave up her fruitless search. "I will come," she said. + +"It's exactly as you like, you know, Muriel," Grange put in awkwardly. + +She understood the precise meaning of Nick's laugh. She even for a +moment wanted to laugh herself. "Thank you. I should like to," she +said. + +Nick nodded and turned aside. "Olga, stop capering," he ordered, "and +drive me home." + +Olga obeyed him promptly, with the gaiety of a squirrel. As Nick +seated himself by her side, Muriel saw her turn impulsively and rub +her cheek against his shoulder. It gave her a queer little tingling +shock to see the child's perfect confidence in him. But then--but +then--Olga had never looked on horror, had never seen the devil leap +out in naked fury upon her hero's face. + +They waited to let the car go first, Olga proudly grasping the wheel; +then, trotting briskly, followed in its wake. + +Muriel had an uneasy feeling that Blake wanted to apologise, and she +determined that he should not have the opportunity. Each time that +he gave any sign of wishing to draw nearer to her, she touched her +horse's flank. Something in the nature of a revelation had come to +her during that brief halt by the roadside. For the first time she +had caught a glimpse, plain and unvarnished, of the actual man that +inhabited the giant's frame, and it had given her an odd, disturbing +suspicion that the strength upon which she leaned was in simple fact +scarcely equal to her own. + +The way to Redlands lay through leafy woodlands through which here +and there the summer sea gleamed blue. Turning in at the open gates, +Muriel uttered an exclamation of delight. She seemed to have suddenly +entered fairyland. The house, long, low, rambling, roofed with thatch, +stood at the end of a winding drive that was bordered on both sides +by a blaze of rhododendron flowers. Down below her on the left was a +miniature glen from which arose the tinkle of running water. On her +right the trees grew thickly, completely shutting out the road. + +"Oh, Blake!" she exclaimed. "What a perfect paradise!" + +"Like it?" said Nick; and with a start she saw him coolly step out +from a shadowy path behind them and close the great iron gate. + +Impulsively she pulled up and slipped to the ground. "Take my horse, +Blake," she said. "I must run down to that stream." + +He obeyed her, not very willingly, and Nick with a chuckle turned and +plunged after her down the narrow path. "Go straight ahead!" he called +back. "Olga is waiting for you at the house." + +He came up with Muriel on the edge of the fairy stream. Her face was +flushed and her eyes nervous, but she met him bravely. She had known +in her heart that he would follow. As he stopped beside her, she +turned with a little desperate laugh and held out her hand. + +"Is it peace?" she said rather breathlessly. + +She felt his fingers, tense as wire, close about her own. "Seems like +it," he said. "What are you afraid of? Me?" + +She could not meet his look. But the necessity for some species of +understanding pressed upon her. She wanted unspeakably to conciliate +him. + +"I want to be friends with you, Nick," she said, "if you will let me." + +"What for?" said Nick sharply. + +She was silent. She could not tell him that her sure defence had +crumbled at a touch. Somehow she was convinced that he knew it +already. + +"You never wanted such a thing before," he said. "You certainly +weren't hankering after it the last time we met." + +Her cheeks burned at the memory. Again she felt ashamed. With a great +effort she forced herself to speak with a certain frankness. + +"I am afraid," she said--"I have thought since--that I was rather +heartless that day. The fact was, I was taken by surprise. But I am +sorry now, Nick. I am very sorry." + +Her tone was unconsciously piteous. Surely he must see that if they +were to meet often, as inevitably they must, some sort of agreement +between them was imperative. She must feel stable ground beneath her +feet. Their intercourse could not be one perpetual passage of arms. +Flesh and blood could never endure it. + +But Nick did not apparently view the matter in the same light. "Pray +don't be sorry," he airily begged her. "I quite understood. I never +take offence where none is intended, and not always where it is. So +dismiss the matter from your mind with all speed. There is not the +smallest occasion for regret." + +He meant to elude her, she saw, and she turned from him without +another word. There was to be no understanding then, no friendly +feeling, no peace of mind. She had trusted to his generosity, and it +was quite clear that he had no intention of being generous. + +As they walked by a mossy pathway towards the house, they talked upon +indifferent things. But the girl's heart was very bitter within +her. She would have given almost anything to have flung back his +hospitality in his grinning, triumphant face, and have departed with +her outraged pride to the farthest corner of the earth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE EAGLE HOVERS + + +Luncheon in the low, old-fashioned dining-room at Redlands with its +windows facing the open sea, with Olga beaming at the head of the +table, would have been a peaceful and pleasant meal, had Muriel's +state of mind allowed her to enjoy it. But Nick's treatment of her +overture had completely banished all enjoyment for her. She forced +herself to eat and to appear unconcerned, but she was quivering +inwardly with a burning sense of resentment. She was firmly determined +that she would never be alone with him again. He had managed by those +few scoffing words of his to arouse in her all the bitterness of which +she was capable. If she had feared him before, she hated him now with +the whole force of her nature. + +He seemed to be blissfully unconscious of her hostility and played the +part of host with complete ease of manner. Long before the meal was +over, Grange had put aside his sullenness, and they were conversing +together as comrades. + +Nick had plenty to say. He spoke quite openly of his illness, and +declared himself to have completely recovered from it. "Even Jim has +ceased his gruesome threats," he said cheerily. "There will be no more +lopping of branches this season. Just as well, for I chance to have +developed an affection for what is left." + +"You're going back to the Regiment, I suppose?" Blake questioned. + +"No, he isn't," thrust in Olga, and was instantly frowned upon by +Nick. + +"Speak when you're spoken to, little girl! That's a question you are +not qualified to answer. I'm on half-pay at present, and I haven't +made up my mind." + +"I should quit in your place," Grange remarked, with his eyes on the +dazzling sea. + +"No doubt you would," Nick responded dryly. "And what should you +advise, Muriel?" + +The question was unexpected, but she had herself in hand, and answered +it instantly. "I certainly shouldn't advise you to quit." + +He raised his eyebrows. "Might one ask why?" + +She was quite ready for him, inspired by an overmastering longing +to hurt him if that were possible. "Because if you gave up your +profession, you would be nothing but a vacuum. If the chance to +destroy life were put out of your reach, you would simply cease to +exist." + +She spoke rapidly, her voice pitched very low. She was trembling all +over, and her hands were clenched under the table to hide it. + +The laugh with which Nick received her words jarred intolerably upon +her. She heard nothing in it but deliberate cruelty. + +"Great Lucifer!" he said. "You have got me under the microscope with +a vengeance. But you can't see through me, you know. I have a reverse +side. Hadn't you better turn me over and look at that? There may be +sorcery and witchcraft there as well." + +There might be. She could well have imagined it. But these were lesser +things in which she had no concern. She turned his thrust aside with +disdain. + +"I am not sufficiently interested," she said. "The little I know is +enough." + +"Well hit!" chuckled Nick. "I retire from the fray, discomfited. Olga +_mia_, I wish you would find the cigars. You know where they are." + +Olga sprang to do his bidding. Having handed the box to Grange she +came to Nick and stood beside him while she cut and lighted a cigar +for him. + +He put his arm round her for a moment, and she stooped a flushed face +and kissed the top of his head. + +"Run along," said Nick. "Take Muriel into the garden. She hasn't seen +it all." + +Muriel rose. "We mustn't be late in starting back," she remarked to +Blake. + +But Olga lingered to whisper vehemently in Nick's ear. + +He laughed and shook his head. "Go, child, go! You don't know anything +about it. And Muriel is waiting. You should never keep a guest +waiting." + +Olga went reluctantly. They passed out into the clear June sunshine +together and down towards the shady shrubberies beyond the lawns. + +"Can Nick play tennis?" Muriel asked, as they crossed a marked-out +court. + +"Yes, he can do anything," the child said proudly. "He was on +horseback this morning, and he managed splendidly. We generally +play tennis in the evening. He almost always wins. His services are +terrific. I can't think how he does it. He calls it juggling. I try to +manage with only one hand sometimes--just to keep him company--but I +always make a mess of things. There's no one in the world as clever as +Nick." + +Muriel felt inclined to agree with her, though in her opinion this +distinguishing quality was not an altogether admirable one. She +infinitely preferred people with fewer brains. She would not, however, +say this to Olga, and they paced on together under the trees in +silence. Suddenly a warm hand slid within her arm, and Olga's grey +eyes, very loving and wistful, looked up into hers. + +"Muriel darling," she whispered softly, "don't you--don't you--like +Nick after all?" + +The colour rushed over Muriel's face in a vivid flood. + +"Like him! Like him!" she stammered. "Why do you ask?" + +"Because, dear--don't be vexed, I love you frightfully--you did hurt +him so at lunch," explained Olga, pressing very close to her. + +"Hurt him! Hurt him!" Again Muriel repeated her words, then, +recovering sharply, broke into a sudden laugh. "My dear child, I +couldn't possibly do such a thing if I tried." + +"But you did, you did!" persisted Olga, a faint note of indignation in +her voice. "You don't know Nick. He feels--tremendously. Of course +you might not see it, for it doesn't often show. But I know--I always +know--when he is hurt, by the way he laughs. And he was hurt to-day." + +She stuck firmly to her point, notwithstanding Muriel's equally +persistent attitude of incredulity, till even Muriel was conscious at +last in her inner soul of a faint wonder, a dim and wholly negligible +sense of regret. Not that she would under any circumstances have +recalled that thrust of hers. She felt it had been dealt in fair +fight; but even in fair fight there come sometimes moments of regret, +when one feels that the enemy's hand has been intentionally slack. She +knew well that, had he chosen, Nick might have thrust back, instantly +and disconcertingly, as his manner was. But he had refrained, merely +covering up his wound--if wound there had been--with the laugh that +had so wrung Olga's loving heart. His ways were strange. She would +never understand him. But she would like to have known how deep that +thrust had gone. + +Could she have overheard the conversation between Nick and his +remaining guest that followed her departure, she might have received +enlightenment on this point, but Nick took very good care to ensure +that that conversation should be overheard by none. + +As soon as Grange had finished his coffee, he proposed a move to the +library, and led the way thither, leaving his own drink untouched +behind him. + +The library was a large and comfortable apartment completely shut +away from the rest of the house, and singularly ill-adapted for +eavesdroppers. The windows looked upon a wide stretch of lawn upon +which even a bird could scarcely have lingered unnoticed. The light +that filtered in through green sun-blinds was cool and restful. An +untidy writing-table and a sofa strewn with cushions in disorderly +attitudes testified to the fact that Nick had appropriated this room +for his own particular den. There was also a sun-bonnet tossed upon a +chair which seemed to indicate that Olga at least did not regard his +privacy as inviolable. The ancient brown volumes stacked upon shelves +that ranged almost from floor to ceiling were comfortably undisturbed. +It was plainly a sanctum in which ease and not learning ruled supreme. + +Nick established his visitor in an easy-chair and hunted for an +ash-tray. Grange watched him uncomfortably. + +"I'm awfully sorry about your arm, Ratcliffe," he said at length. "A +filthy bit of bad luck that." + +"Damnable," said Nick. + +"I've been meaning to look you up for a long time," Grange proceeded, +"but somehow it hasn't come off." + +Nick laughed rather dryly. He was perfectly well aware that Grange had +been steadily avoiding him ever since his return. "Very good of you," +he said, subsiding upon the sofa and pulling the cushions about him. +"I've been saving up my congratulations for you all these weeks. I +might have written, of course, but I had a notion that the spoken word +would be more forcible." + +Grange stirred uneasily, neither understanding nor greatly relishing +Nick's tone. He wished vehemently that he would leave the subject +alone. + +Nick, however, had no such intention. A faint fiendish smile was +twitching the corners of his lips. He did not even glance in Blake's +direction. There was no need. + +"Well, I wish you joy," he said lightly. + +"Thank you," returned Grange, without elation and with very little +gratitude. In some occult fashion, Nick was making it horribly awkward +for him. He longed to change the subject, but could find nothing to +say--possibly because Nick quite obviously had not yet done with it. + +"Going to get married before you sail?" he asked abruptly. + +"I don't think so." Very reluctantly Grange made reply. + +"Why not?" said Nick. + +"Muriel doesn't want to be married till she is out of mourning," +Grange explained. + +"Why doesn't she go out of mourning then?" + +Grange didn't know, hadn't even thought of it. + +"Perhaps she will elect to wear mourning all her life," suggested +Nick. "Have you thought of that?" + +There was a distinct gibe in this, and Grange at once retreated to a +less exposed position. "I am quite willing to wait for her," he said. +"And she knows it." + +"You're deuced easily pleased then," rejoined Nick. "And let me tell +you--for I'm sure you don't know--there's not a single woman under the +sun who appreciates that sort of patience." + +Grange ignored the information with a decidedly sullen air. He did +not regard Nick as particularly well qualified to give him advice upon +such a subject. + +After a moment Nick saw his attitude, and laughed aloud. "Yes, say it, +man! It's quite true in a sense, and I shouldn't contradict you if it +weren't. But has it never occurred to you that I was under a terrific +disadvantage from the very beginning? Do you remember that I undertook +the job that you shirked? Or do you possibly present the matter to +yourself--and others--in some more attractive form?" + +He turned upon his elbow with the question and regarded Grange with an +odd expectancy. But Grange smoked in silence, not raising his eyes. + +Suddenly Nick spoke in a different tone, a tone that was tense without +vibrating. "It doesn't matter how you put it. The truth remains. +You didn't love her then. If you had loved her, you must have been +ready--as I was ready--to make the final sacrifice. But you were not +ready. You hung back. You let me take the place which only a man who +cared enough to protect her to the uttermost could have taken. You +let me do this thing, and I did it. I brought her through untouched. I +kept her--night and day I kept her--from harm of any sort. And she has +been my first care ever since. You won't believe this, I daresay, but +it's true. And--mark this well--I will only let her go to the man who +will make her happy. Once I meant to be that man. You don't suppose, +do you, that I brought her safe through hell just for the pleasure of +seeing her marry another fellow? But it's all the same now what I did +it for. I've been knocked out of the running." His eyelids suddenly +quivered as if at a blow. "It doesn't matter to you how. It wasn't +because she fancied any one else. She hadn't begun to think of you +in those days. I let her go, never mind why. I let her go, but she is +still in my keeping, and will be till she is the actual property of +another man--yes, and after that too. I saved her, remember. I won the +right of guardianship over her. So be careful what you do. Marry her +if you love her. But if you don't, leave her alone. She shall be no +man's second best. That I swear." + +He ceased abruptly. His yellow face was full of passion. His hand was +clenched upon the sofa-cushion. The whole body of the man seemed to +thrill and quiver with electric force. + +And then in a moment it all passed. As at the touching of a spring his +muscles relaxed. The naked passion was veiled again--the old mask of +banter replaced. + +He stretched out his hand to the man who had sat in silence and +listened to that one fierce outburst of a force which till then had +contained itself. + +"I speak as a fool," he said lightly. "Nothing new for me, you'll say. +But just for my satisfaction--because she hates me so--put your hand +in mine and swear you will seek her happiness before everything else +in the world. I shall never trouble you again after this fashion. I +have spoken." + +Blake sat for several seconds without speaking. Then, as if impelled +thereto, he leaned slowly forward and laid his hand in Nick's. He +seemed to have something to say, but it did not come. + +Nick waited. + +"I swear," Blake said at length. + +His voice was low, and he did not attempt to look Nick in the face, +but he obviously meant what he said. + +And Nick seemed to be satisfied. In less than five seconds, he had +tossed the matter carelessly aside as one having no further concern in +it. But the memory of that interview was as a searing flame to Blake's +soul for long after. + +For he knew that the man from whom Muriel had sought his protection +was more worthy of her than he, and his heart cried bitter shame upon +him for that knowledge. + +It was with considerable difficulty that he responded to Nick's airy +nothings during the half-hour that followed, and the unusual alacrity +with which he seized upon his host's suggestion that he might care +to see the garden, testified to his relief at being released from the +obligation of doing so. + +They went out together on to the wide lawn and sauntered down to a +summer-house on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the whole mighty +expanse of sea. It lay dreaming in the sunlight, with hardly a ripple +upon the long white beach below. And here they came upon Muriel and +Olga, sitting side by side on the grass. + +Olga had just finished pulling a daisy to pieces. She tossed it away +at Nick's approach, and sprang to meet him. + +"It's very disappointing," she declared. "It's the fourth time I've +done it, and it always comes the same. I've been making the daisies +tell Muriel's fortune, and it always comes to 'He would if he could, +but he can't.' You try this time, Nick." + +"All right. You hold the daisy," said Nick. + +Muriel looked up with a slightly heightened colour. "I think we ought +to be going," she remarked. + +"We have just ordered the horses for four o'clock," Grange said +apologetically. + +She glanced at the watch on her wrist--half-past three. Nick, seated +cross-legged on the grass in front of her, had already, with Olga's +able assistance, begun his game. + +Swiftly the tiny petals fell from his fingers. He was very intent, +and in spite of herself Muriel became intent too, held by a most +unaccountable fascination. So handicapped was he that he could not +even pull a flower to pieces without assistance. And yet-- + +Suddenly he looked across at her. "He loves her!" he announced. + +"Oh, Nick!" exclaimed Olga reproachfully. "You cheated! You pulled off +two!" + +"He usually does cheat," Muriel observed, plucking a flower of grass +and regarding it with absorption. + +"So do you," retorted Nick unexpectedly. + +"I!" She looked at him in amazement. "What do you mean?" + +"I sha'n't tell you," he returned, "because you know, or you would +know if you took the trouble to find out. Grange, I wish you would +give me a light. Hullo, Olga, there's a hawk! See him? Straight above +that cedar!" + +All turned to look at the dark shape of the bird hovering in mid-air. +Seconds passed. Suddenly there was a flashing, downward swoop, and the +sky was empty. + +Olga exclaimed, and Nick sent up a wild whoop of applause. Muriel gave +a great start and glanced at him. For a single instant his look met +hers; then with a sick shudder, she turned aside. + +"You are cold," said Grange. + +Yes, she was cold. It was as if an icy hand had closed upon her heart. +As from an immense distance, she heard Olga's voice of protest. + +"Oh, Nick, how can you cheer?" + +And his careless reply. "My good child, don't grudge the poor creature +his dinner. Even a bird of prey must live. Come along! We'll go in to +tea. Muriel is cold." + +They went in, and again his easy hospitality overcame all +difficulties. + +When at length the visitors rode away, they left him grinning a cheery +farewell from his doorstep. He seemed to be in the highest spirits. + +They were more than half-way home when Muriel turned impetuously to +her companion, breaking a long silence. + +"Blake," she said, "I am ready to marry you as soon as you like." + + + + +PART IV + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE FACE IN THE STORM + + +Muriel saw very little of her _fiancé_ during the weeks that followed +their visit to Redlands. There was not indeed room for him at the +cottage at Brethaven which she and Daisy had taken for the summer +months. He had, moreover, several visits to pay, and his leave would +be up in September. + +Muriel herself, having once made her decision, had plenty to occupy +her. They had agreed to adhere to Sir Reginald Bassett's plan for +them, and to be married in India some time before Christmas. But she +did not want to go to Lady Bassett's sister before she left England, +and she was glad when Daisy declared that she herself would go to town +with her in the autumn. + +A change had come over Daisy of late, a change which Muriel keenly +felt, but which she was powerless to define. It seemed to date from +the arrival of Nick though she did not definitely connect it with him. +There was nothing palpable in it, nothing even remotely suggestive +of a breach between them; only, subconsciously as it were, Muriel had +become aware that their silence, which till then had been the silence +of sympathy, had subtly changed till it had become the silence of a +deep though unacknowledged reserve. It was wholly intangible, this +change. No outsider would have guessed of its existence. But to the +younger girl it was always vaguely present. She knew that somewhere +between herself and her friend there was a locked door. Her own +reserve never permitted her to attempt to open it. With a species of +pride that was largely composed of shyness, she held aloof. But she +was never quite unconscious of the opposing barrier. She felt that the +old sweet intimacy, that had so lightened the burden of her solitude, +was gone. + +Meanwhile, Daisy was growing stronger, and day by day more active. She +never referred to her baby, and very seldom to her husband. When his +letters arrived she invariably put them away with scarcely a glance. +Muriel sometimes wondered if she even read them. It was pitifully +plain to her that Will Musgrave's place in his wife's heart was very, +very narrow. It had dwindled perceptibly since the baby's death. + +On the subject of Will's letters, Nick could have enlightened her, for +he always appeared at the cottage on mail-day for news. But Muriel, +having discovered this habit, as regularly absented herself, with the +result that they seldom met. He never made any effort to see her. On +one occasion when she came unexpectedly upon him and Olga, shrimping +along the shore, she was surprised that he did not second the child's +eager proposal that she should join them. He actually seemed too keen +upon the job in hand to pay her much attention. + +And gradually she began to perceive that this was the attitude towards +her that he had decided to assume. What it veiled she knew not, nor +did she inquire. It was enough for her that hostilities had ceased. +Nick apparently was bestowing his energies elsewhere. + +Midsummer passed, and a July of unusual heat drew on. Dr. Jim and his +wife and boys had departed to Switzerland. Nick and Olga had elected +to remain at Redlands. They were out all day long in the motor or +dogcart, on horseback or on foot. Life was one perpetual picnic to +Olga just then, and she was not looking forward to the close of the +summer holidays when, so her father had decreed, she was to return to +her home and the ordinary routine. Nick's plans were still unsettled +though he spoke now and then of a prospective return to India. He must +in any case return thither, so he once told her, whether he decided +to remain or not. It was not a pleasant topic to Olga, and she always +sought to avoid any allusion to it. After the fashion of children, she +lived in the present, and enjoyed it to the full: bathing with +Muriel every morning, and spending the remainder of the day in Nick's +society. The friendship between these two was based upon complete +understanding. They had been comrades as long as Olga could remember. +Given Nick, it was very seldom that she desired any one besides. + +Muriel had ceased to marvel over this strange fact. She had come to +realise that Nick was, and always must be, an enigma to her. In +the middle of July, when the heat was so intense as to be almost +intolerable, Daisy received a pressing invitation to visit an old +friend, and to go yachting on the Broads. She refused it at first +point-blank; but Muriel, hearing of the matter before the letter was +sent, interfered, and practically insisted upon a change of decision. + +"It is the very thing for you," she declared. "Brethaven has done +its best for you. But you want a dose of more bracing air to make you +quite strong again. It's absurd of you to dream of throwing away such +an opportunity. I simply won't let you do it." + +"But how can I possibly leave you all alone?" Daisy protested. "If the +Ratcliffes were at home, I might think of it, but--" + +"That settles it," Muriel announced with determination. "I never heard +such nonsense in my life. What do you think could possibly happen +to me here? You know perfectly well that a couple of weeks of my own +society would do me no harm whatever." + +So insistent was she, that finally she gained her point, and Daisy, +albeit somewhat reluctantly, departed for Norfolk, leaving her to her +own devices. + +The heat was so great in those first days of solitude that Muriel was +not particularly energetic. Apart from her early swim with Olga, and +an undeniably languid stroll in the evening, she scarcely left the +precincts of the cottage: No visitors came to her. There were none but +fisher-folk in the little village. And so her sole company consisted +of Daisy's _ayah_ and the elderly English cook. + +But she did not suffer from loneliness. She had books and work in +plenty, and it was even something of a relief, though she never owned +it, to be apart from Daisy for a little. They never disagreed, but +always at the back of her mind there lay the consciousness of a gulf +between them. + +She was at first somewhat anxious lest Nick should feel called upon +to entertain her, and should invite her to accompany him and Olga upon +some of their expeditions. But he did not apparently think of it, and +she was always very emphatic in assuring Olga that she was enjoying +her quiet time. + +She and Nick had not met for some weeks, and she began to think it +more than probable that they would not do so during Daisy's absence. +Under ordinary circumstances this expectation of hers would doubtless +have been realised, for Nick had plainly every intention of keeping +out of her way; but the day of emergency usually dawns upon a world of +sleepers. + +The brooding heat culminated at last in an evening of furious storm, +and Muriel speedily left the dinner-table to watch the magnificent +spectacle of vivid and almost continuous lightning over the sea. +It was a wonder that always drew her. She did not feel the nervous +oppression that torments so many women, or if she felt it she rose +above it. The splendour of the rising storm lifted her out of herself. +She had no thought for anything else. + +For more than half an hour she stood by the little sitting-room +window, gazing out upon the storm-tossed water. It had not begun to +rain, but the sound of it was in the air, and the earth was waiting +expectantly. There seemed to be a feeling of expectation everywhere. +She was vaguely restless under it, curiously impatient for the climax. + +It came at last, so suddenly, so blindingly, that she reeled back +against the curtain in sheer, physical recoil. The whole sky seemed to +burst into flame, and the crash of thunder was so instantaneous that +she felt as if a shell had exploded at her feet. Trembling, she hid +her face. The world seemed to rock all around her. For the first time +she was conscious of fear. + +Then as the thunder died into a distant roar, the heavens opened as if +at a word of command, and in one marvellous, glittering sheet the rain +burst forth. + +She lifted her head to gaze upon this new wonder that the incessant +lightning revealed. The noise was like the sharp rattle of musketry, +and it almost drowned the heavier artillery overhead. The window was +blurred and streaming, but the brilliance outside was such that every +detail in the little garden was clear to her notwithstanding. And +though she still trembled, she nerved herself to look forth. + +An instant later she sprang backwards with a wild cry of terror. +A face--a wrinkled face that she knew--was there close against the +window-pane, and had looked into her own. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE LIFTING OF THE MASK + + +Out of a curious numbness that had almost been a swoon there came to +her the consciousness of a hand that rapped and rapped and rapped +upon the pane. She had fled away to the farther end of the room in her +panic. She had turned the lamp low at the beginning of the storm, and +now it burned so dimly that it scarcely gave out any light at all. +Beyond the window, the lightning flashed with an awful luridness +upon the rushing hail. Beyond the window, looking in upon her, and +knocking, knocking, knocking, stood the figure of her dread. + +She came to herself slowly, with a quaking heart. It was more horrible +to her than anything she had known since the days of her flight +from the beleaguered fort; but she knew that she must fight down her +horror, she knew as certainly as if a physical force compelled her +that she would have to go to the window, would have to open to the man +who waited there. + +Slowly she brought her quivering body into subjection, while every +nerve twitched and clamoured to escape. Slowly she dragged herself +back to the vision that had struck her with that paralysis of terror. +Resisting feebly, invisibly compelled, she went. + +He ceased to knock, and, his face against the pane, he spoke +imperatively. What he said, she could not hear in that tumult of +mighty sound. Only she felt his insistence, answered to it, was +mastered by it. + +White-faced, with horror clutching at her heart, she undid the catch. +His one hand, strong, instinct with energy, helped her to raise the +sash. In a moment he was in the room, bare-headed, drenched from head +to foot. + +She fell back before him, but he scarcely looked at her. He shut +the window sharply, then strode to the lamp, and turned it up. +Then, abruptly he wheeled and spoke in a voice half-kindly, +half-contemptuous. "Muriel, you're a little idiot!" + +There was little in the words to comfort her, yet she was instantly +and vastly reassured. She was also for the moment overwhelmingly +ashamed, but he did not give her time to think of that. + +"I couldn't get in any other way," he said. "I tried the doors first, +hammered at them, but no one came. Look here! Olga is ill, very ill, +and she wants you badly. Are you brave enough to come?" + +"Oh!" Muriel said, with a gasp. "Now, do you mean? With--with you?" + +He threw her an odd look under his flickering eyelids, and she noted +with a scared minuteness of attention the gleam of the lamplight on +their pale lashes. She had always hated pale eyelashes. They seemed to +her untrustworthy. + +"Yes," he told her grimly. "All alone--with me--in the storm. Shall +you be afraid--if I give you my hand to hold? You've done it before." + +Was he mocking her weakness? She could not say. She only knew that he +watched her with the intensity of an eagle that marks its quarry. He +did not mean her to refuse. + +"What is the matter with Olga?" she asked. + +"I don't know. I believe it is sunstroke. We were motoring in the +mid-day heat. She didn't seem to feel it at the time, but her head +ached when we got in. She is in a high fever now. I've sent my man on +in the motor to fetch Jim's locum from Weir. I should have brought the +dogcart myself, to fetch you, but I couldn't trust the horse in this." + +"You left her alone to come here?" Muriel questioned. + +He nodded. "I had no choice. She wished it. Besides, there were +none but women-folk left. She's got one of them with her, the least +imbecile of the lot, which isn't saying much. They're all terrified +of course at the storm--all except Olga. She is never afraid of +anything." + +A frightful crash of thunder carried away his words. Before it had +rolled away, Muriel was at the door. She made a rapid sign to him, and +was gone. + +Nick chafed up and down the room, waiting for her. The storm continued +with unabated violence, but he did not give it a thought. He was +counting the moments with feverish impatience. + +Muriel's absence scarcely lasted for five minutes, but when she +came back all trace of fear had left her. Her face showed quiet and +matter-of-fact above the long waterproof in which she had wrapped +herself. Over her arm she carried a waterproof cloak. + +She held it out to him. "It's one of Daisy's, but you are to wear it. +I think you must be mad to have come out without anything." + +She put it round his shoulders; and he thanked her with a smothered +laugh. + +A terrific blast of wind and rain met them as they emerged from the +cottage, nearly whirling Muriel off her feet. She made an instinctive +clutch at her companion and instantly her hand was caught fast in his. +He drew her arm close under his own, and she did not resist him. There +was something reassuring in his touch. + +Later she wondered if they spoke at all during that terrible walk. She +could never recall a word on either side. And yet, though in a measure +frightened, she was not panic-stricken. + +The storm was beginning to subside a little before they reached +Redlands, though the rain still fell heavily. In the intervals between +the lightning it was pitch dark. They had no lantern, but Nick was +undismayed. He walked as lightly and surely as a cat, and Muriel +had no choice but to trust herself unreservedly to his guidance. She +marvelled afterwards at the complete trust with which that night he +had managed to inspire her, but at the time she never questioned it. + +Yet when the lights of Redlands shone at last through the gloom, she +breathed a sigh of relief. Instantly Nick spoke. + +"Well done!", he said briefly. "You are your father's daughter still." + +She knew that she flushed in the darkness, and was glad that he could +not see her face. + +"You must go and get dry, first of all," he went on. "I told them to +light a fire somewhere. And you are to have some coffee too. Mind, I +say it." + +To this she responded with some spirit. "I will if you will." + +"I must go straight to Olga," he said. "I promised I would." + +"Not in your wet things!" Muriel exclaimed. "No, Nick! Listen! I am +not wet, not as you are. Let me go to Olga first. You can send me some +coffee in her room if you like. But you must go at once and change. +Promise you will, Nick!" + +She spoke urgently. For some reason the occasion seemed to demand it. + +Nick was silent for a little, as if considering. Then as they finally +reached the porch he spoke in a tone she did not altogether fathom. + +"I say, you are not going to shut me out, you know." + +She looked up in astonishment. "Of course not. I never dreamt of such +a thing." + +"All right," he said, and this time she knew he spoke with relief. "I +will do as you like then." + +A moment more, and he opened the door, standing aside for her to pass. +She entered quickly, glad to be in shelter, and paused to slip off her +streaming waterproof. He took it from her, passing his hand over her +sleeve. + +"You are sure you are not wet through?" + +"Quite sure," she told him. "Take me straight up, won't you?" + +"Yes. Come this way." + +He preceded her up the wide stairs where he might have walked beside +her, not pausing for an instant till he stood at Olga's door. + +"Go straight in," he said then. "She is expecting you. Tell her, if +she wants to know, that I am coming directly." + +He passed on swiftly with the words, and disappeared into a room close +by. + +Very softly Muriel turned the door-handle and entered. Olga's voice +greeted her before she was well in the room. It sounded husky and +strained. + +"Muriel! Dear Muriel! I'm so glad you've come. I've wanted you so you +can't think. Where's Nick?" + +"He is coming, dearest." Muriel went forward to the bed, and took in +hers the two hands eagerly extended. + +The child was lying in an uneasy position, her hair streaming in a +disordered tangle about her flushed face. She was shivering violently +though the hands Muriel held were burning. "You came all through this +awful storm," she whispered. "It was lovely of you, dear. I hope you +weren't frightened." + +Muriel sat down beside her. "And you have been left all alone," she +said. + +"I didn't mind," gasped Olga. "Mrs. Ellis--that's the cook--was here +at first. But she was such an ass about the thunder that I sent her +away. I expect she's in the coal cellar." + +A gleam of fun shone for an instant in her eyes, and was gone. The +fevered hands closed tightly in Muriel's hold. "I feel so ill," she +murmured, "so ill." + +"Where is it, darling?" Muriel asked her tenderly. + +"It's, it's all over me," moaned Olga. "My head worst, and my throat. +My throat is dreadful. It makes me want to cry." + +There was little that Muriel could do to ease her. She tied back the +tossing hair, and rearranged the bedclothes; then sat down by her +side, hoping she might get some sleep. + +Not long after, Nick crept in on slippered feet, but Olga heard him +instantly, and started up with out-flung arms. "Nick, darling, I want +you! I want you! Come quite close! I think I'm going to die. Don't let +me, Nick!" + +Muriel rose to make room for him, but he motioned her back sharply; +then knelt down himself by the child's pillow and took her head upon +his arm. + +"Stick to it, sweetheart!" he murmured softly. "There's a medicine man +coming, and you'll be better presently." Olga cuddled against him +with a sigh, and comforted by the close holding of his arm dropped +presently into an uneasy doze. + +Nick never stirred from his position, and mutely Muriel sat and +watched him. There was a wonderful tenderness about him just then, a +softness with which she was strangely familiar, but which almost she +had forgotten. If she had never seen him before that moment, she knew +that she would have liked him. + +He seemed to have wholly forgotten her presence. His entire attention +was concentrated upon the child. His lips twitched from time to time, +and she knew that he was very anxious, intensely impatient under his +stillness for the doctor's coming. She remembered that old trick of +his. She had never before associated it with any emotion. + +Suddenly he turned his head as if he had felt her scrutiny, and looked +straight into her eyes. It was only for a moment. His glance flickered +beyond her with scarcely a pause. Yet it was to her as if by that +swift look he had spoken, had for the first time made deep and +passionate protest against her bitter judgment of him, had as it were +shown her in a single flash the human heart beneath the jester's garb. + +And again very deep down in her soul there stirred that blind, +unconscious entity, of the existence of which she herself had so vague +a knowledge, feeling upwards, groping outwards, to the light. + +There came upon her a sudden curious sense of consternation--a feeling +as of a mental earthquake when the very foundations of the soul +are shaken. Had she conceivably been mistaken in him? With all her +knowledge of him, had she by some strange mischance--some maddening, +some inexplicable misapprehension--failed utterly and miserably to see +this man as he really was? + +For the first time the question sprang up within her. And she found no +answer to it--only that breathless, blank dismay. + +Softly Nick's voice broke in upon her seething doubt. He had laid Olga +back upon the pillow. + +"The doctor is here. Do you mind staying with her while I go?" + +"You'll come back, Nick?" the child urged, in her painful whisper. + +"Yes, I'll come back," he promised. "Honest Injun!" + +He touched her cheek lightly at parting, and Olga caught the caressing +hand and pressed it against her burning lips. Muriel saw his face +as he turned from the bed. It was all softened and quivering with +emotion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +AT THE GATE OF DEATH + + +In the morning they knew the worst. Olga had scarlet fever. + +The doctor imparted the news to Nick and Muriel standing outside +the door of the sick-room. Nick's reception of it was by no +means characteristic. For the first time in her life Muriel saw +consternation undisguised upon the yellow face. + +"Great Jupiter!" he said. "What a criminal ass I am!" + +At another moment she could have laughed at the tragic force of his +self-arraignment. Even as it was, she barely repressed a smile as she +set his mind at rest. She needed no explanation. It was easy enough to +follow the trend of his thoughts just then. + +"If you are thinking of me," she said, "I have had it." + +She saw his instant relief, though he merely acknowledged the +statement by a nod. + +"We must have a nurse," he said briefly. "We shall manage all right +then. I'll do my turn. Oh, stuff!" at a look from the doctor. "I +sha'n't hurt. I'm much too tough a morsel for microbes to feed on." + +Possibly the doctor shared this opinion, for he made no verbal +protest. It fell to Muriel to do this later in the day when the nurse +was installed, and she was at liberty to leave Olga's room. Nick +had just returned from the post-office whence he had been sending a +message to the child's father. She came upon him stealing up to take a +look at her. Seeing Muriel he stopped. "How is she?" + +Muriel moved away to an open window at the end of the passage before +she made reply. He followed her, and they stood together, looking out +upon the sunset. + +"The fever is very high," she said. "And she is suffering a good deal +of pain. She is not quite herself at times." + +"You mean she is worse?" He looked at her keenly. + +It was exactly what she did mean. Olga had been growing steadily worse +all day. Yet when abruptly he turned to leave her, Muriel laid a hasty +hand upon his arm. + +"Nick," she said, and her voice was almost imploring, "don't go in! +Please don't go in!" + +He stopped short. "Why not?" + +She removed her hand quickly. "It's so dangerous--besides being +unnecessary. Won't you be sensible about it?" + +He gave his head a queer upward jerk, and stood as one listening, not +looking at her. "What for?" + +She could not think of any very convincing reason for the moment. Yet +it was imperative that he should see the matter as she saw it. + +"Suppose I had not had it," she ventured, "what would you have done?" + +"Packed you off to the cottage again double quick," said Nick +promptly. + +It was the answer she had angled for. She seized upon it. "Well, tell +me why." + +He spun round on his heels and faced her. He was blinking very +rapidly. "You asked me that question once before," he said. "And out +of a sentimental consideration for your feelings--I didn't answer +it. Do you really want an answer this time, or shall I go on being +sentimentally considerate?" + +She heard the old subtle jeering note in his voice, but its effect +upon her was oddly different from what it had ever been before. It +did not anger her, nor did it wholly frighten her. It dawned upon her +suddenly that, though possibly it lay in his power to hurt her, he +would not do so. + +She answered him with composure. "I don't want you to be anything +but sensible, Nick. And it isn't sensible to expose yourself to +unnecessary risk. It's wrong." + +"That's my lookout," said Nick. + +It was indubitably; but she wanted very much to gain her point. + +"Won't you at least keep away unless she asks for you?" she urged. + +"You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me," said Nick. + +"I am not," she returned quickly. "I am not. You know it isn't that." + +"Do I?" he said quizzically. "It's one of the few things I shouldn't +have known without being told. Well, I'm sorry I can't consent to be +sensible as you call it. I am quite sure personally that there isn't +the slightest danger. It isn't so infectious at this stage, you know. +Perhaps by-and-by, when she is through the worst, I will think about +it." + +He spoke lightly, but she was aware of the anxiety that underlay the +words. She said no more, reminding herself that argument with Nick was +always futile, sometimes worse. Nevertheless she found some comfort +in the smile with which he left her. He had refused to treat with her, +but his enmity--if enmity it could be called--was no longer active. He +had proclaimed a truce which she knew he would not break. + +Olga was delirious that night, and privately Muriel was glad that she +had not been able to exclude him; for his control over the child was +wonderful. As once with a tenderness maternal he had soothed her, +so now he soothed Olga, patiently, steadfastly, even with a certain +cheeriness. It all came back to her as she watched him, the strength +of the man, his selfless devotion. + +She could see that both doctor and nurse thought very seriously of +the child. The former paid a late visit, but said very little beyond +advising her to rest if she could in an adjacent room. Both Nick and +the nurse seconded this, and, seeing there was nothing that she could +do, she gave way in the matter, lying down as she was with but small +expectation of sleep. But she was wearier than she knew, and the +slumber into which she fell was deep, and would have lasted for some +hours undisturbed. + +It was Nick who roused her, and starting up at his touch, she knew +instantly that what they had all mutely feared had drawn very near. +His face told her at a glance, for he made no effort to dissemble. + +"The nurse thinks you had better come," was all he said. + +She pushed the hair from her forehead, and turned without a word to +obey the summons. But at the door something checked her, something +cried aloud within her, bidding her pause. She stopped. Nick was close +behind her. Swiftly, obedient to the voice that cried, she stretched +out her hand to him. He gripped it fast, and she was conscious for an +instant of a curious gladness, a willingness to leave it in his hold, +that she had never experienced before. But at the door of Olga's room +he softly relinquished it, and drew back. + +Olga was lying propped on pillows, and breathing quickly. The nurse +was bending over her with a glass, but Olga's face was turned away. +She was watching the door. + +As Muriel came to her, the light eyes brightened to quick +intelligence, and the parted lips tried to speak. But no sound came +forth, and a frown of pain succeeded the effort. + +Muriel stooped swiftly and grasped the slender hand that lay clenched +upon the sheet. + +"There, darling! Don't try to talk. It hurts you so. We are both here, +Nick and I, and we understand all about it." + +It was the first time she had ever voluntarily coupled herself with +him. It came to her instinctively to do it in that moment. + +But Olga had something to say, something apparently that must be said. +With infinite difficulty she forced a husky whisper. Muriel stooped +lower to catch it, so low that her face was almost touching the face +upon the pillow. + +"Muriel," came haltingly from the parched lips, "there's something--I +want--to say to you--about Nick." + +Muriel felt the blood surging at her temples as the faint words +reached her. She would have given anything to know that he was out of +earshot. + +"Won't you say it in the morning, darling?" she said, almost with +pleading in her voice. "It's so late now." + +It was not late. It was very, very early--the solemn hour when +countless weary ones fall into their long sleep. And the moment she +had spoken, her heart smote her. Was she for her own peace of mind +trying to silence the child's last words on earth? + +"No, never mind, dear," she amended tenderly. "I am listening to you. +Tell me now." + +"Yes," panted Olga. "I must. I must. You remember--that day--with the +daisies--the day we saw--the hawk?" + +Yes, well Muriel remembered it. The thought of it went through her +like a stab. + +"Yes, dear. What of it?" she heard herself say. + +"Well, you know--I've thought since--that the daisies meant Nick, +not--not--I can't remember his name, Muriel." + +"Do you mean Captain Grange, dear?" + +"Yes, yes, of course. He was there too, wasn't he? I'm sure now--quite +sure--they didn't mean him." + +"Very likely not, dear." + +"And Muriel--do you know--Nick was just miserable--after you went. I +sort of felt he was. And late--late that night I woke up, and I crept +down to him--in the library. And he had his head down on the table--as +if--as if--he was crying. Oh, Muriel!" + +A sharp sob interrupted the piteous whisper. Muriel folded her arms +about the child, pillowing the tired head on her breast. All the fair +hair had been cut off earlier in the day. Its absence gave Olga a very +babyish appearance. + +Brokenly, with many gasping pauses, the pathetic little story came to +an end. "I went to him--and I asked him what it was. And he--he looked +up with that funny face he makes--you know--and he just said, 'Oh, +it's all right. I've been feeding on dust and ashes all day long, +that's all. And it's dry fare for a thirsty man!' He thought--I +wouldn't know what he meant. But I did, Muriel. And I always wanted +to tell you. But--somehow--you wouldn't let me. He meant you. He was +hurt--so hurt--because you weren't kind to him. Oh, Muriel, won't +you--won't you--try to be kind to him now? Please, dear, please!" + +Muriel's eyes sought Nick, and instantly a thrill of surprise and +relief shot through her. He had not heard that request of Olga's. She +doubted if he had heard anything. He was sunk in a chair well in the +background with his head on his hand, and looking at him she saw his +shoulders shake with a soundless sob. + +She looked away again with a sense of trespass. This--this was the man +who had fought and cursed and slain under her eyes--the man from whose +violence she had shrunk appalled, whose strength had made her shudder +many a time. She had never imagined that he could grieve thus--even +for his little pal Olga. + +Tenderly she turned back to the child. That single glimpse of the man +in pain had made it suddenly easy to grant her earnest prayer. + +"I won't be unkind to him again, darling," she promised softly. + +"Never any more?" insisted Olga. + +"Never any more, my darling." + +Olga made a little nestling movement against her. It was all she +wanted, and now that the effort of asking was over she was very tired. + +The nurse drew softly back into the shadow, and a deep silence fell in +the room. Through it in a long, monotonous roar there came the sound +of the sea breaking, eternally breaking, along the beach. + +No one moved. Olga's breathing was growing slower, so much slower that +there were times when Muriel, listening intently, fancied that it +had wholly ceased. She held the little slim body close in her arms, +jealously close, as though she were defying Death itself. And ever +through the stillness she could hear her own heart beating like the +hoofs of a galloping horse. + +Slowly the night began to pass. The outline of the window-frame became +visible against a faint grey glimmer. The window was open, and a +breath of the coming dawn wandered in with the fragrance of drenched +roses. A soft rain was falling. The patter of it could be heard upon +the leaves. + +Again Muriel listened for the failing breath, listened closely, +tensely, her face bent low to the fair head that lay so still upon her +breast. + +But she heard nothing--nothing but her own heart quickening, +quickening, from fear to suspense, from suspense to the anguish of +conviction. + +She lifted her face at last, and in the same instant there arose +a sudden flood of song from the sleeping garden, as the first lark +soared to meet the dawn. + +Half-dazed, she listened to that marvellous outpouring of gladness, so +wildly rapturous, so weirdly holy. On, ever on, pealed the bird-voice; +on to the very Gates of Heaven, and it seemed to the girl who +listened as though she heard a child's spirit singing up the steeps +of Paradise. With her heart she followed it till suddenly she heard +no more. The voice ceased as it had begun, ceased as a burst of music +when an open door is closed--and there fell in its stead a silence +that could be felt. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE ARMISTICE + + +She could not have said for how long she sat motionless, the slight, +inert body clasped against her breast. Vaguely she knew that the +night passed, and with it the wondrous silence that had lain like a +benediction upon the dawn. A thousand living things awoke to rejoice +in the crystal splendour of the morning; but within the quiet room the +spell remained unlifted, the silence lay untouched. It was as though +the presence of Death had turned it into a peaceful sanctuary that no +mere earthly tumult could disturb. + +She sat in a species of waking stupor for a long, long time, not +daring to move lest the peace that enfolded her should be shattered. +Higher and higher the sun climbed up the sky till at last it topped +the cedar-trees and shone in upon her, throwing a single ray of purest +gold across the foot of the bed. Fascinated, she watched it travel +slowly upwards, till a silent, one-armed figure arose and softly drew +the curtain. + +The room grew dim again. The world was shut out. She was not conscious +of physical fatigue, only of a certain weariness of waiting, waiting +for she knew not what. It seemed interminable, but she would not seek +to end it. She was as a soldier waiting for the order to quit his +post. + +There came a slight movement at last. Someone touched her, whispered +to her. She looked up blankly, and saw the nurse. But understanding +seemed to have gone from her during those long hours. She could not +take in a word. There arose a great surging in her brain, and the +woman's face faded into an indistinct blur. She sat rigid, afraid to +move lest she should fall. + +She heard vague whisperings over her head, and an arm that was like a +steel spring encircled her. Someone lifted her burden gently from her, +and a faint murmur reached her, such as a child makes in its sleep. + +Then the arm that supported her gradually raised her up till she +was on her feet. Mechanically she tried to walk, but was instantly +overcome by a sick sense of powerlessness. + +"I can't!" she gasped. "I can't!" + +Nick's voice answered her in a quick, confident whisper. "Yes, you +can, dear. It's all right. Hang on to me. I won't let you go." + +She obeyed him blindly. There was nothing else to do. And so, +half-led, half-carried, she tottered from the room. + +A glare of sunlight smote upon her from a passage-window with a +brilliance that almost hurt her. She stood still, clinging to Nick's +shoulder. + +"Oh, Nick," she faltered weakly, "why don't they--pull down the +blinds?" + +Nick turned aside, still closely holding her, into the room in which +she had rested for the earlier part of the night. + +"Because, thank God," he said, "there is no need. Olga is going to +live." + +He helped her down into an easy-chair, and would have left her; but +she clung to him still, weakly but persistently. + +"Oh, Nick, don't laugh! Tell me the truth for once! Please, Nick, +please!" + +He yielded to her so abruptly that she was half-startled, dropping +suddenly down upon his knees beside her, the morning light full upon +his face. + +"I am telling you the truth," he said. "I believe you have saved her +life. She has been sleeping ever since sunrise." + +Muriel gazed at him speechlessly; but she no longer suspected him of +trying to deceive her. If he had never told her the truth before that +moment he was telling it to her then. + +She gave a little gasping cry of relief unspeakable, and hid her face. +The next moment Nick was on his feet. She heard his quick, light step +as he crossed the threshold, and realised thankfully that he had left +her alone. + +A little later, a servant brought her a breakfast-tray with a message +from the master of the house to the effect that he hoped she would go +to bed and take a long rest. + +It was excellent advice, and she acted upon it; for since the worst +strain was over, sleep had become an urgent necessity to her. She +wondered as she lay down if Nick were following the same course. She +hoped he was, for she had a curiously vivid memory of the lines that +sleeplessness had drawn about his eyes. + +It was late afternoon when she awoke, and sat swiftly up with a +confused sense of being watched. + +"Don't jump like that!" a gruff voice said. "Lie down again at once. +You are not to get up till to-morrow morning." + +She turned with a shaky laugh of welcome to find Dr. Jim seated +frowning by her side. He laid a compelling hand upon her shoulder. + +"Lie down again, do you hear? There's nothing for you to do. Olga is +much better, and doesn't want you." + +"And Nick?" said Muriel. + +They were the first words that occurred to her. She said them +hurriedly, with heightened colour. + +Jim Ratcliffe frowned more than ever. He was feeling her pulse. "A +nice couple of idiots you are!" he grimly remarked. "You needn't worry +about Nick. He has gone for a ride. As soon as he comes back, he will +dine and go to bed." + +"Can't I get up to dinner?" Muriel suggested. + +She could scarcely have said why she made the proposal, and she was +certainly surprised when Jim Ratcliffe fell in with it. He looked at +his watch. "Well, you may if you like. You will probably sleep the +better for it. But I'll have no nonsense, mind, Muriel. You're to do +as you're told." + +Muriel smiled acquiescence. She felt that everything was right now +that Dr. Jim had returned to take the direction of affairs into his +own hands. He had come back alone, and he intended to finish his +holiday under Nick's roof. So much he told her before, with an abrupt +smile, he thanked her for her care of his little girl and took himself +off. + +She almost regretted her decision when she came to get up, for the +strain was telling upon her more than she had realised. Not since +Simla days had she felt so utterly worn out. She was glad of the cup +of tea which Dr. Jim sent in to her before she left her room. + +Sitting on the cushioned window-seat to drink it, she heard the tread +of a horse's feet along the drive, and with a start she saw Nick come +into view round a bend. + +Her first impulse was to draw back out of sight, but the next moment +she changed her mind and remained motionless. Her heart was suddenly +beating very fast. + +He was riding very carelessly, the bridle lying on the horse's neck. +The evening sun was shining full in his face, but he did not seem to +mind. His head was thrown back. He rode like a returning conqueror, +wearied it might be, but triumphant. + +Passing into the shadow of the house, he saw her instantly, and the +smile that flashed into his face was one of sheer exultation. He +dropped the bridle altogether to wave to her. + +"Up already? Have you seen old Jim?" + +She nodded. It was impossible at the moment not to reflect his smile. +"I am coming down soon," she told him. + +"Come now," said Nick persuasively. + +She hesitated. He was slipping from his horse. A groom came up and +took the animal from him. + +Nick paused below her window, and once more lifted his grinning, +confident face. + +"I say, Muriel!" + +She leaned down a little. "Well?" + +"Don't come if you don't want to, you know." + +She laughed half-reluctantly, conscious of a queer desire to please +him. Olga's words were running in her brain. He had fed on dust and +ashes. + +Yet still she hesitated. "Will you wait for me?" + +"Till doomsday," said Nick obligingly. + +And drawn by a power that would not be withstood, she went down, still +smiling, and joined him in the garden. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE EAGLE STRIKES + + +Olga's recovery, when the crisis of the disease was past, was more +rapid than even her father had anticipated; and this fact, combined +with a spell of glorious summer weather, made the period of her +quarantine very tedious, particularly as Nick was rigidly excluded +from the sick-room. + +At Olga's earnest request Muriel consented to remain at Redlands. +Daisy had written to postpone her own return to the cottage, having +received two or three invitations which she wished to accept if Muriel +could still spare her. + +Blake was in Scotland. His letters were not very frequent, and though +his leave was nearly up, he did not speak of returning. + +Muriel was thus thrown upon Jim Ratcliffe's care--a state of affairs +which seemed to please him mightily. It was in fact his presence that +made life easy for her just then. She saw considerably more of him +than of Nick, the latter having completely relegated the duties of +host to his brother. Though they met every day, they were seldom alone +together, and she began to have a feeling that Nick's attitude towards +her had undergone a change. His manner was now always friendly, but +never intimate. He did not seek her society, but neither did he avoid +her. And never by word or gesture did he refer to anything that had +been between them in the past. She even wondered sometimes if there +might not possibly have been another interpretation to Olga's story. +That unwonted depression of his that the child had witnessed had +surely never been inspired by her. + +She found the time pass quickly enough during those six weeks. The +care of Olga occupied her very fully. She was always busy devising +some new scheme for her amusement. + +Mrs. Ratcliffe returned to Weir, and Dr. Jim determined to transfer +Olga to her home as soon as she was out of quarantine. With paternal +kindliness, he insisted that Muriel must accompany her. Daisy's return +was still uncertain, though it could not be long delayed; and Muriel +had no urgent desire to return to the lonely life on the shore. + +So, to Olga's outspoken delight, she yielded to the doctor's +persuasion, and on the afternoon preceding the child's emancipation +from her long imprisonment she walked down to the cottage to pack her +things. + +It was a golden day in the middle of September and she lingered awhile +on the shore when her work was done. There was not a wave in all the +vast, shimmering sea. The tide was going out, and the shallow ripples +were clear as glass as they ran out along the white beach. Muriel +paused often in her walk. She was sorry to leave the little +fishing-village, realising that she had been very happy there. Life +had passed as smoothly as a dream of late, so smoothly that she had +been content to live in the present with scarcely a thought for the +future. + +This afternoon she had begun to realise that her peaceful time was +drawing to an end. In a few weeks more, she would be in town in all +the bustle of preparation. And further still ahead of her--possibly +two months--there loomed the prospect of her return to India, of Lady +Bassett's soft patronage, of her marriage. + +She shivered a little as one after another these coming events +presented themselves. There was not one of them that she would not +have postponed with relief. She stood still with her face to the +sunlit sea, and told herself that her summer in England had been all +too short. She had an almost passionate longing for just one more year +of home. + +A pebble skimming past her and leaping from ripple to ripple like, a +living thing caught her attention. She turned sharply, and the next +moment smiled a welcome. + +Nick had come up behind her unperceived. She greeted him with pleasure +unfeigned. She was tired of her own morbid thoughts just then. +Whatever he might be, he was at least never depressing. + +"I'm saying good-bye," she told him. "I don't suppose I shall ever +come here again." + +He came and stood beside her while he grubbed in the sand with a +stick. + +"Not even to see me?" he suggested. + +"Are you going to live here?" she asked in surprise. + +"Oh, I suppose so," said Nick, "when I marry." + +"Are you going to be married?" Almost in spite of her the question +leapt out. + +He looked up, grinning shrewdly. "I put it to you," he said. "Am I the +sort of man to live alone?" + +She experienced a curious sense of relief. "But you are not alone in +the world," she pointed out. "You have relations." + +"You regard marriage as a last resource?" questioned Nick. + +She coloured and turned her face to the shore. "I don't think any man +ought to marry unless--unless--he cares," she said, striving hard to +keep the personal note out of her voice. + +"Exactly," said Nick, moving beside her. "But doesn't that remark +apply to women as well?" + +She did not answer him. A discussion on this topic was the last thing +she desired. + +He did not press the point, and she wondered a little at his +forbearance. She glanced at him once or twice as they walked, but his +humorous, yellow face told her nothing. + +Reaching some rocks, he suddenly stopped. "I've got to get some +seaweed for Olga. Do you mind waiting?" + +"I will help you," she answered. + +He shook his head. "No, you are tired. Just sit down in the sun. I +won't be long." + +She seated herself without protest, and he turned to leave her. A few +paces from her he paused, and she saw that he was trying to light a +cigarette. He failed twice, and impulsively she sprang up. + +"Nick, why don't you ask me to help you?" + +He whizzed round. "Perhaps I don't want you to," he said quizzically. + +She took the match-box from him. "Don't be absurd! Why shouldn't I?" +She struck a match and held it out to him. But he did not take it +from her. He took her wrist instead, and stooping forward lighted his +cigarette deliberately. + +She did not look at him. Some instinct warned her that his eyes were +intently searching her face. She seemed to feel them darting over her +in piercing, impenetrable scrutiny. + +He released her slowly at length and stood up. "Am I to have the +pleasure of dancing at your wedding?" he asked her suddenly. + +She looked up then very sharply, and against her will a burning blush +rose up to her temples. He waited for her answer, and at last it came. + +"If you think it worth your while." + +"I would come from the other side of the world to see you made happy," +said Nick. + +She turned her face aside. "You are very kind." + +"Think so?" There was a note of banter in his voice. "It's the first +time you ever accused me of that." + +She made no rejoinder. She had a feeling at the throat that prevented +speech, even had she had any words to utter. Certainly, as he had +discovered, she was very tired. It was physical weariness, no doubt, +but she had an almost overmastering desire to shed childish tears. + +"You trot back now," said Nick cheerily. "I can grub along quite well +by myself." + +She turned back silently. Why was it that the world seemed so grey +and cold on that golden summer afternoon? She sat down again in the +sunshine, and began to trace an aimless design in the sand with the +stick Nick had left behind. Away in the distance she heard his cracked +voice humming. Was he really as cheerful as he seemed, she wondered? +Or was he merely making the best of things? + +Again her thoughts went back to Olga's pathetic little revelation. +Strange that she who knew him so intimately should never have seen him +in such a mood! But did she know him after all? It was a question +she had asked herself many times of late. She remembered how he had +lightly told her that he had a reverse side. But had she ever really +seen it, save for those brief glimpses by Olga's bedside, and as it +was reflected in the child's whole-souled devotion to him? She wished +with all her heart that he would lift the veil just once for her and +show her his inner soul. + +Again her thoughts passed to her approaching marriage. She had +received a letter from Blake that day, telling her at length of his +plans. He and Daisy had been staying in the same house, but he was +just returning to town. He was to sail in less than a fortnight, and +would come and say good-bye to her immediately before his departure. +The letter had been courteously kind throughout, but she had not felt +tempted to read it again. It contained no reference to their wedding, +save such as she chose to attribute to the concluding sentence: "We +can talk everything over when we meet." A sense of chill struck +her when she recalled the words. He was very kind, of course, and +invariably meant well; but she had begun to realise of late that there +were times when she found him a little heavy and unresponsive. Not +that she had ever desired any demonstration of tenderness from him, +heaven knew. But the very consciousness that she had not desired this +added to the chill. She was not quite sure that she wanted to see him +again before he sailed. Certainly he had never bored her; but it was +not inconceivable that he might do so. She shivered ever so slightly. +It was not an exciting prospect--life with Blake. He was quite sure to +be kind to her. He would consider her in every way. But was that after +all quite all she wanted? A great sigh welled suddenly up from the +bottom of her heart. Life was ineffably dreary--when it was not +revoltingly horrible. + +"Shall I tell you what is the matter?" said Nick. + +She started violently, and found him leaning across the flat rock +on which she was seated. His eyes were remarkably bright. She had a +feeling that he suppressed a laugh as his look flickered over her. + +"Sorry I made you jump," he said. "You ought to be used to me by this +time. Anyhow you needn't be frightened. My venom was extracted long +ago." + +She turned to him with sudden, unconsidered impulse. "Oh, Nick," she +said, "I sometimes think to myself I've been a great fool." + +He nodded. Her vehemence did not seem to surprise him. "I thought it +would strike you sooner or later," he said. + +She laughed in spite of herself with her eyes full of tears. "There's +not much comfort in that." + +"I haven't any comfort to give you," said Nick, "not at this stage. +I'll give you advice if you like--which I know you won't take." + +"No, please don't! That would be even worse." There was a tremor in +her voice. She knew that she had stepped off the beaten track; but she +had an intense, an almost passionate longing to go a little further, +to penetrate, if only for a moment, that perpetual mask. + +"Don't let us talk of my affairs," she said. "Tell me of your own. +What are you going to do?" + +Nick's eyebrows went up. "I thought I was coming to your wedding," he +remarked. "That's as far as I've got at present." + +She made a gesture of impatience. "Do you never think of the future?" + +"Not in your presence," laughed Nick. "I think of you--you--and only +you. Didn't you know?" + +She turned away in silence. Was he tormenting her deliberately? Or did +he fail to see that she was in earnest? + +There followed a pause, and then, urged by that unknown impulse that +would not be repressed, she did a curious thing. She got up, and, +facing him, she made a very earnest appeal. + +"Nick, why do you always treat me like this? Why will you never be +honest with me?" + +There was more of pain than reproach in the words. Her voice was deep +and very sad. + +But Nick scarcely looked at her. He was pulling tufts of dried seaweed +off the rock on which he leaned. + +"My dear girl," he said, "how can you expect it?" + +"Expect it!" she echoed. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" + +He drew himself slowly to a sitting posture. "How can I be honest with +you," he said, "when you are not honest with yourself?" + +"What do you mean?" she said again. + +He gave her an odd look. "You really want me to tell you?" + +"Of course I do." She spoke sharply. The old scared feeling was awake +within her, but she would not yield to it. Now or never would she read +the enigma. She would know the truth, cost what it might. + +"What I mean is this," said Nick. "You won't own it, of course, but +you are cheating, and you are afraid to stop. There isn't one woman in +ten thousand who has the pluck to throw down the cards when once she +has begun to cheat. She goes on--as you will go on--to the end of her +life, simply because she daren't do otherwise. You are out of the +straight, Muriel. That's why everything is such a hideous failure. You +are going to marry the wrong man, and you know it." + +He looked up at her again for an instant as he said it. He had spoken +with his usual shrewd decision, but there was no hint of excitement +about him. He might have been discussing some matter of a purely +impersonal nature. + +Muriel stood mutely poking holes in the sand. She could find nothing +to say to this matter-of-fact indictment. + +"And now," Nick proceeded, "I will tell you why you are doing it." + +She started at that, and looked up with flaming cheeks. "I don't think +I want to hear any more, Nick. It--it's rather late in the day, isn't +it?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. "I knew you would be afraid to face it. +It's easier, isn't it, to go on cheating?" + +Her eyes gleamed for a moment. He had flicked a tender place. +"Very well," she said proudly. "Say what you like. It will make no +difference. But please understand that I admit none of this." + +Nick's grin leapt goblin-like across his face and was gone. "I never +expected it of you," he told her coolly. "You would sooner die than +admit it, simply because it would be infinitely easier for you to die. +You will be false to yourself, false to Grange, false to me, rather +than lower that miserable little rag of pride that made you jilt me +at Simla. I didn't blame you so much then. You were only a child. +You didn't understand. But that excuse won't serve you now. You are a +woman, and you know what Love is. You don't call it by its name, but +none the less you know it." + +He paused for an instant, for Muriel had made a swift gesture of +protest. + +"I don't think you know what you are saying," she said, her voice very +low. + +He sprang abruptly to his feet. "Yes," he said, speaking very rapidly. +"That's how you will trick yourself to your dying day. It's a way +women have. But it doesn't help them. It won't help you. For that +thing in your heart--the thing that is fighting for air--the thing +you won't own--the thing that drove you to Grange for protection--will +never die. That is why you are miserable. You may do what you will to +it, hide it, smother it, trample it. But it will survive for all that. +All your life it will be there. You will never forget it though you +will try to persuade yourself that it belongs to a dead past. All your +life,"--his voice vibrated suddenly, and the ever-shifting eyes blazed +into leaping flame--"all your life, you will remember that I was once +yours to take or to throw away. And--you wanted me, yet--you chose to +throw me away." + +Fiercely he flung the words at her. There was nothing impersonal +about him now. He was vitally, overwhelmingly, in earnest. A deep +glow covered the parchment face. The man was as it were electrified by +passion. + +And Muriel gazed at him as one gazing upon sudden disaster. What was +this, what was this, that he had said to her? He had rent the veil +aside for her indeed. But to what dread vision had he opened her eyes? + +The old paralysing fear was knocking at her heart. She dreaded each +instant to see the devil leap out upon his face. But as the seconds +passed she realised that he was still his own master. He had flung +down the gauntlet, but he would go no further, unless she took it up. +And this she could not do. She knew that she was no match for him. + +He was watching her narrowly, she knew, and after a few palpitating +moments she nerved herself to meet his look. She felt as if it +scorched her, but she would not shrink. Not for a moment must he fancy +that those monstrous words of his had pierced her quivering heart. +Whatever happened later, when this stunned sense of shock had left +her, she must not seem to take them seriously now, with his watching +eyes upon her. + +And so at last she lifted her head and faced him with a little +quivering laugh, brave enough in itself, but how piteous she never +guessed. + +"I don't think you are quite so clever as you used to be, Nick," she +told him, "though I admit,"--her lips trembled--"that you are very +amusing sometimes. Blake once told me that you had the eyes of a +snake-charmer. Is it true, I wonder? Anyhow, they don't charm me." + +She stopped rather breathlessly, half-frightened by his stillness. +Would he understand that it was not her intention to defy him--that +she was only refusing the conflict? + +For a few moments her heart beat tumultuously, and then came a great +throb of relief. Yes, he understood. She had nought to fear. + +He put his hand sharply over his eyes, turning from her. "I have never +tried to charm you," he said, in a voice that sounded curiously choked +and unfamiliar. "I have only--loved you." + +In the silence that followed, he began to walk away from her, moving +noiselessly over the sand. + +Mutely she watched him, but she dared not call him back. And very soon +she was quite alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT + + +It did not take Dr. Jim long to discover that some trouble or at the +least some perplexity was weighing upon his young guest's mind. He +also shrewdly remarked that it dated from the commencement of +her visit at his house. No one else noticed it, but this was not +surprising. There was always plenty to occupy the attention in the +Ratcliffe household, and only Dr. Jim managed to keep a sharp eye upon +every member thereof. Moreover, by a casual observer, there was little +or nothing that was unusual to be detected in Muriel's manner. Quiet +she certainly was, but she was by no means listless. Her laugh did not +always ring quite true, that was all. And her eyes drooped a little +wearily from time to time. There were other symptoms, very slight, +wholly imperceptible to any but a trained eye, yet not one of which +escaped Dr. Jim. + +He made no comment, but throughout that first week of her stay he +watched her unperceived, biding his time. During several motor rides +on which she accompanied him he maintained this attitude while she sat +all unsuspecting by his side. She had never detected any subtlety in +this staunch friend of hers, and, unlike Daisy, she felt no fear of +him. His blunt sincerity had never managed to wound her. + +And so it was almost inevitable that she should give him his +opportunity at last. + +Late one evening she entered his consulting-room where he was busy +writing. + +"I want to talk to you," she said. "Is it very inconvenient?" + +The doctor leaned back in his chair. "Sit down there," he said, +pointing to one immediately facing him. + +She laughed and obeyed, faintly blushing. "I'm not a patient, you +know." + +He drew his black brows together. "It's very late. Why don't you go to +bed?" + +"Because I want to talk to you." + +"You can do that to-morrow," bluntly rejoined Dr. Jim. "You can't +afford to sacrifice your sleep to chatter." + +"I am not sacrificing any sleep," Muriel told him rather wearily. "I +never sleep before morning." + +He laid down his pen and gave her one of his hard looks. "Then you are +a very silly girl," he said curtly at length. + +"It isn't my fault," she protested. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "You all say that. It's the most ordinary +lie I know." + +Muriel smiled. "I know you are longing to give me something nasty. You +may if you like. I'll take it, whatever it is." + +Dr. Jim was silent for a space. He continued to regard her steadily, +with a scrutiny that spared her nothing. She sat quite still under it. +He had never disconcerted her yet. But when he leaned suddenly forward +and took her wrist between his fingers, she made a slight, instinctive +effort to frustrate him. + +"Be still," he ordered. "What makes you so absurdly nervous? Want of +sleep, eh?" + +Her lips trembled a little. "Don't probe too deep, doctor," she +pleaded. "I am not very happy just now." + +"Why don't you tell me what is the matter?" he asked gruffly. + +She did not answer, and he continued frowning over her pulse. + + +"What do you want to talk to me about?" he asked at last. + +She looked up with an effort. "Oh, nothing much. Only a letter from +a Mrs. Langdale who lives in town. She is going to India in November, +and says she will take charge of me if I care to go with her. She has +invited me to go and stay with her beforehand." + +"Well?" said Jim, as she paused. + +"I don't want to go," she said. "Do you think I ought? She is Lady +Bassett's sister." + +"I think it would probably do you good, if that's what you mean," he +returned. "But I don't suppose that consideration has much weight with +you. Why don't you want to go?" + +"I don't like strangers, and I hate Lady Bassett," Muriel answered, +with absolute simplicity. "Then there is Daisy. I don't know what her +plans are. I always thought we should go East together." + +"There's no sense in waiting for Daisy's plans to develop," declared +Jim. "She is as changeable as the wind. Possibly Nick will be able to +make up her mind for her. I fancy he means to try." + +"Nick! You don't mean he will travel with Daisy?" There was almost a +tragic note in Muriel's voice. She looked up quickly into the shrewd +eyes that watched her. + +"Why shouldn't he?" said Jim. + +"I don't know. I never thought of it." Muriel leaned back again, a +faint frown of perplexity between her eyes. "Perhaps," she said slowly +at length, "I had better go to Mrs. Langdale." + +"I should in your place," said Jim. "That handsome soldier of yours +won't want to be kept waiting, eh?" + +"Oh, he wouldn't mind." The weariness was apparent again in her voice, +and with it a tinge of bitterness. "He never minds anything," she +said. + +Jim grunted disapproval. "And you? Are you equally indifferent?" + +Her pale face flushed vividly. She was silent a moment; then suddenly +she sat up and met his look fully. + +"You'll think me contemptible, I know," she said, a great quiver in +her voice. "I can't help it; you must. Dr. Jim, I'll tell you the +truth. I--I don't want to go to India. I don't want to be married--at +all." + +She ended with a swift rush of irrepressible tears. It was out at +last, this trouble of hers that had been gradually growing behind the +barrier of her reserve, and it seemed to burst over her in the telling +in a great wave of adversity. + +"I've done nothing but make mistakes," she sobbed "ever since Daddy +died." + +Dr. Jim got up quietly to lock the door. The grimness had passed from +his face. + +"My dear," he said gruffly, "we all of us make mistakes directly we +begin to run alone." + +He returned and sat down again close to her, waiting for her to +recover herself. She slipped out a trembling hand to him, and he took +it very kindly; but he said no more until she spoke. + +"It's very difficult to know what to do." + +"Is it? I should have said you were past that stage." His tone was +uncompromising, but the warm grip of his hand made up for it. His +directness did not dismay her. "If you are quite sure you don't care +for the fellow, your duty is quite plain." + +Muriel raised her head slowly. "Yes, but it isn't quite so simple as +that, doctor. You see, it's not as if--as if--we either of us ever +imagined we were--in love with each other." + +Jim's eyebrows went up. "As bad as that?" + +She leaned her chin on her hand. "I am sure there must be crowds of +people who marry without ever being in love." + +"Yes," said Jim curtly. "And kindle their own hell in doing it." + +She started a little. "You think that?" + +"I know it. I have seen it over and over again. Full half of the +world's misery is due to it. But you won't do that, Muriel. I know you +too well." + +Muriel glanced up at him. "Do you know me? I don't think you would +have expected me to accept him in the first place." + +"Depends what you did it for," said Jim. + +She fell suddenly silent, slowly twisting the ring on her finger. "He +knew why," she said at last in a very low voice. "In fact--in fact he +asked me for that reason." + +"And the reason still exists?" + +She bent her head. "Yes." + +"A reason you are ashamed of?" pursued the doctor. + +She did not answer, and he drew his great brows together in deep +thought. + +"You don't propose to take me any further into your confidence?" he +asked at last. + +She made a quick, impulsive movement. "You--you--I think you know." + +"Will you let me tell you what I know?" he said. + +She shrank perceptibly. "If--if you won't make it too hard for me." + +"I can't answer for that," he returned. "It depends entirely upon +yourself. My knowledge does not amount to anything very staggering +in itself. It is only this--that I know a certain person who would +cheerfully sacrifice all he has to make you happy, and that you have +no more cause to fear persecution from that person than from the man +in the moon." + +He paused; but Muriel did not speak. She was still absently turning +her engagement ring round and round. + +"To verify this," he said, "I will tell you something which I am sure +you don't know--which in fact puzzled me, too, considerably, for +some time. He has already sacrificed more than most men would care to +venture in a doubtful cause. It was no part of his plan to follow you +to England. He set his face against it so strongly that he very nearly +ended his mortal career for good and all in so doing. As it was, he +suffered for his lunacy pretty heavily. You know what happened. He was +forced to come in the end, and he paid the forfeit for his delay." + +Again he paused, for Muriel had sprung upright with such tragedy in +her eyes that he knew he had said enough. The next moment she was on +her feet, quivering all over as one grievously wounded. + +"Oh, do you know what you are saying?" she said, and in her voice +there throbbed the cry of a woman's wrung heart. "Surely--surely he +never did that--for me!" + +He did not seem to notice her agitation. "It was a fairly big price +to pay for a piece of foolish sentiment, eh?" he said. "Let us hope he +will know better next time." + +He looked up at her with a faintly cynical smile, but she was standing +with her face averted. He saw only that her chin was quivering like a +hurt child's. + +"Come," he said at length. "I didn't tell you this to distress you, +you know. Only to set your mind at rest, so that you might sleep +easy." + +She mastered herself with an effort, and turned towards him. "I know; +yes, I know. You--you have been very kind. Good-night, doctor." + +He rose and went with her to the door. "You are not going to lie awake +over this?" + +She shook her head. "Good-night," she said again. + +He watched her down the passage, and then returned to his writing. +He smiled to himself as he sat down, but this time wholly without +cynicism. + +"No, Nick, my boy," he said, as he drove his pen into the ink. "She +won't lie awake for you. But she'll cry herself to sleep for your +sake, you gibbering, one-armed ape. And the new love will be the old +love before the week is out, or I am no weather prophet." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF + + +The gale that raged along the British coasts that autumn was the +wildest that had been known for years. It swelled quite suddenly out +of the last breezes of a superb summer, and by the middle of September +it had become a monster of destruction, devastating the shore. The +crumbling cliffs of Brethaven testified to its violence. Beating +rain and colossal, shattering waves united to accomplish ruin and +destruction. And the little fishing-village looked on aghast. + +It was on the third day of the storm that news was brought to Nick +of a landslip on his own estate. He had been in town ever since his +guests' departure, and had only returned on the previous evening. He +did not contemplate a long stay. The place was lonely without Olga, +and he was not yet sufficiently proficient in shooting with one arm to +enjoy the sport, especially in solitude. He was in fact simply waiting +for an opportunity which he was convinced must occur before long, of +keeping a certain promise made to a friend of his on a night of early +summer in the Indian Plains. + +It was a wild day of drifting squalls and transient gleams of +sunshine. He grimaced to himself as he sauntered forth after luncheon +to view the damage that had been wrought upon his property. The ground +he trod was sodden with long rain, and the cedars beyond the lawn +plunged heavily to and fro in melancholy unrest, flinging great drops +upon him as he passed. The force of the gale was terrific, and he had +to bend himself nearly double to meet it. + +With difficulty he forced his way to the little summer-house that +overlooked the shore. He marvelled somewhat to find it still standing, +but it was sturdily built and would probably endure as long as the +ground beneath it remained unshaken. + +But beyond it a great gap yawned. The daisy-covered space on which +they had sat that afternoon, now many weeks ago, had disappeared. +Nothing of it remained but a crumbling desolation to which the daisies +still clung here and there. + +Nick stood in such shelter as the summer-house afforded, and looked +forth upon the heaving waste of waters. The tide was rising. He +could see the great waves swirling white around the rocks. Several +land-slips were visible from this post of observation. The village was +out of sight, tucked away behind a great shoulder of cliff; but an old +ruined cottage that had been uninhabited for some time had entirely +disappeared. Stacks of seaweed had been thrown up upon the deserted +shore, and lay in great masses above the breakers. The roar of the +incoming tide was like the continuous roll of thunder. + +It was a splendid spectacle and for some time he stood, with his face +to the driving wind, gazing out upon the empty sea. There was not a +single vessel in all that wide expanse. + +Slowly at last his vision narrowed. His eyes came down to the great +gash at his feet where red earth and tufts of grass mingled, where +the daisies had grown on that June day, where she had sat, proud and +aloof, and watched him fooling with the white petals. Very vividly +he recalled that summer afternoon, her scorn of him, her bitter +hostility--and the horror he had surprised in her dark eyes when the +hawk had struck. He laughed oddly to himself, his teeth clenched upon +his lower lip. How furiously she had hated him that day! + +He turned to go; but paused, arrested by some instinct that bade +him cast one more look downwards along the howling shore. In another +moment he was lying full length upon the rotten ground, staring +intently down upon the group of rocks more than two hundred feet below +him. + +Two figures--a man and a woman--had detached themselves from the +shelter of these rocks, and were moving slowly, very slowly, towards +the path that led inwards from the shore. They were closely linked +together, so much his first glance told him. But there was something +in the man's gait that caught the eye and upon which Nick's whole +attention was instantly focussed. He could not see the face, but +the loose-slung, gigantic limbs were familiar to him. With all his +knowledge of the world of men, he had not seen many such. + +Slowly the two approached till they stood almost immediately beneath +him, and there, as upon mutual impulse, they stopped. It was a corner +protected from the driving blast by the crumbling mass of cliff that +had slipped in the night. The rain was falling heavily again, but +neither the two on the shore nor the solitary watcher stretched on the +perilous edge of the cliff seemed aware of it. All were intent upon +other things. + +Suddenly the woman raised her face, and with a movement that was +passionate reached up her arms and clasped them about the man's bent +neck. She was speaking, but no sound or echo of words was audible +in that tumult. Only her face lifted to the beating rain, with its +passion of love, its anguish of pain, told the motionless spectator +something of their significance. + +It was hidden from him almost at once by the man's massive head; but +he had seen enough, more than enough, to verify a certain suspicion +which had long been quartered at the back of his brain. + +Stealthily he drew himself back from the cliff edge, and sat up on the +damp grass. Again his eyes swept the horizon; there was something of a +glare in them. He was drenched through and through by the rain, but +he did not know it. Had Muriel seen him at that moment she might have +likened him with a shudder to an eagle that viewed its quarry from +afar. + +He returned to the house without further lingering, and spent the two +hours that followed in prowling ceaselessly up and down his library. + +At the end of that time he sat down suddenly at the writing-table, and +scrawled a hasty note. His face, as he did so, was like the face of an +old man, but without the tolerance of age. + +Finishing, he rang for his servant. "Take this note," he said, "and +ask at the Brethaven Arms if a gentleman named Captain Grange is +putting up there. If he is, send in the note, and wait for an answer. +If he is not, bring it back." + +The man departed, and Nick resumed his prowling. It seemed that he +could not rest. Once he went to the window and opened it to listen to +the long roar of the sea, but the fury of the blast was such that +he could scarcely stand against it. He shut it out, and resumed his +tramp. + +The return of his messenger brought him to a standstill. + +"Captain Grange was there, sir. Here is his answer." + +Nick grabbed the note with a gesture that might have indicated either +impatience or relief. He held the envelope between his teeth to slit +it open, and they left a deep mark upon it. + + "Dear Ratcliffe," he read. "If I can get to you through this + murderous storm, I will. Expect me at eight o'clock.--Yours, + B. Grange." + +"All right," said Nick over his shoulder. "Captain Grange will dine +with me." + +With the words he dropped the note into the fire, and then went away +to dress. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +BY SINGLE COMBAT + + +By eight o'clock Nick was lounging in the hall, awaiting his guest, +but it was more than a quarter of an hour later that the latter +presented himself. + +Nick himself admitted him with a cheery grin. "Come in," he said. +"You've had a pretty filthy walk." + +"Infernal," said Grange gloomily. + +He entered with a heavy, rather bullied air, as if he had come against +his will. Shaking hands with his host, he glanced at him somewhat +suspiciously. + +"Glad you managed to come," said Nick hospitably. + +"What did you want to see me for?" asked Grange. + +"The pleasure of your society, of course." Nick's benignity was +unassailable, but there was a sharp edge to it somewhere of which +Grange was uneasily aware. "Come along and dine. We can talk +afterwards." + +Grange accompanied him moodily to the dining-room. "I thought you were +away," he remarked, as they sat down. + +"I was," said Nick. "Came back last night. When do you sail?" + +"On Friday. I came down to say good-bye." + +"Muriel is at Weir," observed Nick. + +"Yes. I shall go on there to-morrow. Daisy is only here for a night or +two to pack up her things." + +"And then?" said Nick. + +Grange stiffened perceptibly. "I don't know what her plans are. She +never makes up her mind till the last minute." + +Nick laughed. "She evidently hasn't taken you into her confidence. She +is going East this winter." + +Grange looked up sharply. "I don't believe it." + +"It's true all the same," said Nick indifferently, and forthwith +forsook the subject. + +He started other topics, racing, polo, politics, airily ignoring his +guest's undeniable surliness, till at last Grange's uneasiness began +to wear away. He gradually overcame his depression, and had even +managed to capture some of his customary courtesy before the end of +dinner. His attitude was quite friendly when they finally adjourned to +the library to smoke. + +Nick followed him into the room and stopped to shut the door. + +Grange had gone straight to the fire, and he did not see him slip +something into his pocket as he came forward. + +But he did after several minutes of abstraction discover something not +quite normal in Nick's silence, and glanced down at him to ascertain +what it was. + +Nick had flung himself into a deep easy-chair, and was lying quite +motionless with his head back upon the cushion. His eyes were closed. +He had been smoking when he entered, but he had dropped his cigar half +consumed into an ash-tray. + +Grange looked at him with renewed uneasiness, and looked away again. +He could not help feeling that there was some moral tension somewhere; +but he had never possessed a keen perception, he could not have said +wherein it lay. + +He retired into his shell once more and sat down facing his host in +silence that had become dogged. + +Suddenly, without moving, Nick spoke. + +His words were slightly more deliberate than usual, very even, very +distinct. "To come to the point," he said. "I saw you on the shore +this afternoon--you and Mrs. Musgrave." + +"What?" Grange gave a great start and stared across at him, gripping +the arms of his chair. + +Nick's face, however, remained quite expressionless. "I saw you," he +repeated. + +With an effort Grange recovered himself. "Did you though? I wondered +how you knew I was down here. Where were you?" + +There was an abrupt tremor behind Nick's eyelids, but they remained +closed. "I was on the top of the cliff, on my own ground, watching +you." + +Dead silence followed his answer--a silence through which the sound of +the sea half a mile away swelled terribly, like the roar of a monster +in torment. + +Then at last Nick's eyes opened. He looked Grange straight in the +face. "What are you going to do?" he said. + +Grange's hands dropped heavily from the chair-arms, and his whole +great frame drooped slowly forward. He made no further attempt at +evasion, realising the utter futility of such a course. + +"Do!" he said wearily. "Nothing." + +"Nothing?" said Nick swiftly. + +"No, nothing," he repeated, staring with a dull intentness at the +ground between his feet. "It's an old story, and the less said about +it the better. I can't discuss it with you or any one. I think it was +a pity you took the trouble to watch me this afternoon." + +He spoke with a certain dignity, albeit he refused to meet Nick's +eyes. He looked unutterably tired. + +Nick lay quite motionless in his chair, inscrutably still, save for +the restless glitter behind his colourless eyelashes. At length, "Do +you remember a conversation we had in this room a few months ago?" he +asked. + +Grange shook his head slightly, too engrossed with his miserable +thoughts to pay much attention. + +"Well, think!" Nick said insistently. "It had to do with your +engagement to Muriel Roscoe. Perhaps you have forgotten that too?" + +Grange looked up then, shaking off his lethargy with a visible effort. +He got slowly to his feet, and drew himself up to his full giant +height. + +"No," he said, "I have not forgotten it." + +"Then," said Nick, "once more--what are you going to do?" + +Grange's face darkened. He seemed to hesitate upon the verge of +vehement speech. But he restrained himself though the hot blood +mounted to his temples. + +"I have never yet broken my word to a woman," he said. "I am not going +to begin now." + +"Why not?" said Nick, with a grin that was somehow fiendish. + +Grange ignored the gibe. "There is no reason why I should not marry +her," he said. + +"No reason!" Nick's eyes flashed upwards for an instant, and a curious +sense of insecurity stabbed Grange. + +Nevertheless he made unfaltering reply. "No reason whatever." + +Nick sat up slowly and regarded him with minute attention. "Are you +serious?" he asked finally. + +"I am absolutely serious," Grange told him sternly. "And I warn you, +Ratcliffe, this is not a subject upon which I will bear interference." + +"Man alive!" jeered Nick. "You must think I'm damned easily scared." + +He got up with the words, jerking his meagre body upright with a +slight, fierce movement, and stood in front of Grange, arrogantly +daring. + +"Now just listen to this," he said. "I don't care a damn how you take +it, so you may as well take it quietly. It's no concern of mine to +know how you have whitewashed this thing over and made it look +clean and decent--and honourable--to your fastidious eye. What I am +concerned in is to prevent Muriel Roscoe making an unworthy marriage. +And that I mean to do. I told you in the summer that she should be no +man's second best, and, by Heaven, she never shall. I had my doubts +of you then. I know you now. And--I swear by all things sacred that I +will see you dead sooner than married to her." + +He broke off for a moment as though to get a firmer grip upon +himself. His face was terrible, his body tense as though controlled by +tight-strung wires. + +Before Grange could speak, he went on rapidly, with a resolution more +deadly if less passionate than before. + +"If either of you had ever cared, it might have been a different +matter. But you never did. I knew that you never did. I never troubled +to find out your reason for proposing to her. No doubt it was strictly +honourable. But I always knew why she accepted you. Did you know that, +I wonder?" + +"Yes, I did." Grange's voice was deep and savage. He glowered down +upon him in rising fury. "It was to escape you." + +Nick's eyes flamed back like the eyes of a crouching beast. He uttered +a sudden, dreadful laugh. "Yes--to escape me," he said, "to escape me! +And it has fallen to me to deliver her from her chivalrous protector. +If you look all round that, you may see something funny in it." + +"Funny!" burst forth Grange, letting himself go at last. "It's what +you have been playing for all along, you infernal mountebank! But you +have overreached yourself this time. For that very reason I will never +give her up." + +He swung past Nick with the words, goaded past endurance, desperately +aware that he could not trust himself within arm's length of that +gibing, devilish countenance. + +He reached the door and seized the handle, wrenched furiously for a +few seconds, then flung violently round. + +"Ratcliffe," he exclaimed, "for your own sake I advise you not to keep +me here!" + +But Nick had remained with his face to the fire. He did not so much +as glance over his shoulder. He had suddenly grown intensely quiet. "I +haven't quite done with you," he said. "There is just one thing more I +have to say." + +Grange was already striding back like an enraged bull, but something +in the voice or attitude of the man who leaned against the mantelpiece +without troubling to face him, brought him up short. + +Against his will he halted. "Well?" he demanded. + +"It's only this," said Nick. "You know as well as I do that I possess +the means to prevent your marriage to Muriel Roscoe, and I shall +certainly use that means unless you give her up of your own accord. +You see what it would involve, don't you? The sacrifice of your +precious honour--and not yours only." + +He paused as if to allow full vent to Grange's anger, but still he did +not change his position. + +"You damned cur!" said Grange, his voice hoarse with concentrated +passion. + +Nick took up his tale as if he had not heard. "But, on the other hand, +if you will write and set her free now, at once--I don't care how you +do it; you can tell any likely lie that occurs to you--I on my part +will swear to you that I will give her up entirely, that I will never +plague her again, will never write to her or attempt in any way to +influence her life, unless she on her own initiative makes it quite +clear that she desires me to do so." + +He ceased, and there fell a dead silence, broken only by the lashing +rain upon the windows and the long, deep roar of the sea. He seemed to +be listening to them with bent head, but in reality he heard nothing +at all. He had made the final sacrifice for the sake of the woman he +loved. To secure her happiness, her peace of mind, he had turned his +face to the desert, at last, and into it he would go, empty, beaten, +crippled, to return no more for ever. + +Across the lengthening silence Grange's voice came to him. There was a +certain hesitation in it as though he were not altogether sure of his +ground. + +"I am to take your word for all that?" + +Nick turned swiftly round. "You can do as you choose. I have nothing +else to offer you." + +Grange abandoned the point abruptly, feeling as a man who has lost his +footing in a steep place and is powerless to climb back. Perhaps even +he was vaguely conscious of something colossal hidden away behind that +baffling, wrinkled mask. + +"Very well," he said, with that dogged dignity in which Englishmen +clothe themselves in the face of defeat. "Then you will take my word +to set her free." + +"To-night?" said Nick. + +"To-night." + +There was another pause. Then Nick crossed to the door and unlocked +it. + +"I will take your word," he said. + +A few seconds later, when Grange had gone, he softly shut and locked +the door once more, and returned to his chair before the fire. Great +gusts of rain were being flung against the window-panes. The +wind howled near and far with a fury that seemed to set the walls +vibrating. Now and then dense puffs of smoke blew out across the +hearth into the room, and the atmosphere grew thick and stifling. + +But Nick did not seem aware of these things. He sat on unheeding in +the midst of his dust and ashes while the storm raged relentlessly +above his head. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + + +With the morning there came a lull in the tempest though the great +waves that spent themselves upon the shore seemed scarcely less +mountainous than when they rode before the full force of the storm. + +In Daisy Musgrave's cottage above the beach, a woman with a white, +jaded face sat by the window writing. A foreign envelope with an +Indian stamp lay on the table beside her. It had not been opened; and +once, glancing up, she pushed it slightly from her with a nervous, +impatient movement. Now and then she sat with her head upon her hand +thinking, and each time she emerged from her reverie it was to throw +a startled look towards the sea as though its ceaseless roar unnerved +her. + +Nevertheless, at sight of a big, loosely-slung figure walking slowly +up the flagged path, a quick smile flashed into her face, making it +instantly beautiful. She half rose from her chair, and then dropped +back again, still faintly smiling, while the light which only one +man's coming can kindle upon any woman's face shone upon hers, erasing +all weariness and bitterness while it lingered. + +At the opening of the door she turned without rising. "So you have +come after all! But I knew you would. Sit down a minute and wait while +I finish this tiresome letter. I have just done." + +She was already scribbling last words as fast as her pen would move, +and her visitor waited for her without a word. + +In a few minutes she turned to him again. "I have been writing a note +to Muriel, explaining things a little. She doesn't yet know that I +am here; but it would be no good for her to join me, for I am only +packing. I shall leave as soon as I can get away. And she too is going +almost at once to Mrs. Langdale, I believe. So we shall probably not +meet again at present. You will be seeing her this afternoon. Will you +give it to her?" + +She held the letter out to him, but he made no move to take it. His +face was very pale, more sternly miserable than she had ever seen it. +"I think you had better post it," he said. + +She rose and looked at him attentively. "Why, what's the matter, +Blake?" she said. + +He did not answer, and she went on immediately, still with her eyes +steadily uplifted. + +"Do you know, Blake, I have been thinking all night, and I have made +up my mind to have done with all this foolish sentimentality +finally and for ever. From to-day forward I enter upon the prosaic, +middle-aged stage. I was upset yesterday at the thought of losing you +so soon. It's been a lovely summer, hasn't it?" She stifled a sigh +half uttered. "Well, it's over. You have to go back to India, and we +must just make the best of it." + +He made a sharp movement, but said nothing. The next moment he dropped +down heavily into a chair and sat bowed, his head in his hands. + +Daisy stood looking down at him, and slowly her expression changed. A +very tender look came into her eyes, a look that made her seem older +and at the same time more womanly. Very quietly she sat down on the +arm of his chair and laid her hand upon him, gently rubbing it to and +fro. + +"My own boy, don't fret, don't fret!" she said. "You will be happier +by-and-by. I am sure of it." + +He took the little hand from his shoulder, and held it against his +eyes. At last after several seconds of silence he spoke. + +"Daisy, I have broken my engagement." + +Daisy gave a great start. A deep glow overspread her face, but it +faded very swiftly, leaving her white to the lips. "My dear Blake, +why?" she whispered. + +He answered her with his head down. "It was Nick Ratcliffe's doing. He +made me." + +"Made you, Blake! What can you mean?" + +Sullenly Grange made answer. "He had got the whip-hand, and I couldn't +help myself. He saw us on the shore together yesterday afternoon, made +up his mind then and there that I was no suitable partner for Muriel, +got me to go and dine with him, and told me so." + +"But Blake, how absurd!" Daisy spoke with a palpable effort. "How--how +utterly unreasonable! What made you give in to him?" + +Grange would not tell her. "I shouldn't have done so," he said +moodily, "if he hadn't given his word that he would never pester +Muriel again. She's well rid of me anyhow. He was right there. She +will probably see it in the same light." + +"What did you say to her?" questioned Daisy. + +"Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? I didn't see her. I wrote. I didn't +tell her anything that it was unnecessary for her to know. In fact +I didn't give her any particular reason at all. She'll think me an +infernal cad. And so I am." + +"You are not, Blake!" she declared vehemently. "You are not!" + +He was silent, still tightly clasping her hand. + +After a pause, she made a gentle movement to withdraw it; but at +that he turned with a sudden mastery and thrust his arms about her. +"Daisy," he broke out passionately, "I can't do without you! I can't! +I can't! I've tried,--Heaven knows how I've tried! But it can't be +done. It was madness ever to attempt to separate us. We were bound to +come together again. I have been drifting towards you always, always, +even when I wasn't thinking of you." + +Fiercely the hot words rushed out. He was holding her fast, though had +she made the smallest effort to free herself he would have let her go. + +But Daisy sat quite still, neither yielding nor resisting. Only at +his last words her lips quivered in a smile of tenderest ridicule. +"I know, my poor old Blake," she said, "like a good ship without a +rudder--caught in a strong current." + +"And it has been the same with you," he insisted. "You have always +wanted me more than--" + +He did not finish, for her hand was on his lips, restraining him. "You +mustn't say it, dear. You mustn't say it. It hurts us both too much. +There! Let me go! It does no good, you know. It's all so vain and +futile--now." Her voice trembled suddenly, and she ceased to speak. + +He caught her hand away, looking straight up at her with that new-born +mastery of his that made him so infinitely hard to resist. + +"If it is quite vain," he said, "then tell me to go,--and I will." + +She tried to meet his eyes, but found she could not. "I--shall have +to, Blake," she said in a whisper. + +"I am waiting," he told her doggedly. + +But she could not say the word. She turned her face away and sat +silent. + +He waited with absolute patience for minutes. Then at last very gently +he took his arms away from her and stood up. + +"I am going back to the inn," he said. "And I shall wait there till +to-morrow morning for your answer. If you send me away, I shall +go without seeing you again. But if--if you decide otherwise,"--he +lowered his voice as if he could not wholly trust it--"then I shall +apply at once for leave to resign. And--Daisy--we will go to the New +World together, and make up there for all the happiness we have missed +in the Old." + +He ended almost under his breath, and she seemed to hear his heart +beat through the words. It was almost too much for her even then. But +she held herself back, for there was that in her woman's soul that +clamoured to be heard--the patter of tiny feet that had never ceased +to echo there, the high chirrup of a baby's voice, the vision of a +toddling child with eager arms outstretched. + +And so she held her peace and let him go, though the struggle within +her left her physically weak and cold, and she did not dare to raise +her eyes lest he should surprise the love-light in them once again. + +It had come to this at last then--the final dividing of the ways, the +definite choice between good and evil. And she knew in her heart what +that choice would be, knew it even as the sound of the closing door +reached her consciousness, knew it as she strained her ears to catch +the fall of his feet upon the flagged path, knew it in every nerve and +fibre of her being as she sprang to the window for a last glimpse of +the man who had loved her all her life long, and now at last had won +her for himself. + +Slowly she turned round once more to the writing-table. The unopened +letter caught her eye. She picked it up with a set face, looked at +it closely for a few moments, and then deliberately tore it into tiny +fragments. + +A little later she went to her own room. From a lavender-scented +drawer she took an envelope, and shook its contents into her hand. +Only a tiny unmounted photograph of a laughing baby, and a ringlet of +baby hair! + +Her face quivered as she looked at them. They had been her dearest +treasures. Passionately she pressed them to her trembling lips, but +she shed no tears. And when she returned to the sitting-room there was +no faltering in her step. + +She poked the fire into a blaze, and, kneeling, dropped her treasures +into its midst. A moment's torture showed in her eyes, and passed. + +She had chosen. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE EAGLE'S PREY + + +During the whole of that day Muriel awaited in restless expectancy the +coming of her _fiancé_. She had not heard from him for nearly a week, +and she had not written in the interval for the simple reason that +she lacked his address. But every day she had expected him to pay his +promised visit of farewell. + +It was hard work waiting for him. If she could have written, she would +have done so days before in such a fashion as to cause him almost +certainly to abandon his intention of seeing her. For her mind was +made up at last after her long torture of indecision. Dr. Jim's +vigorous speaking had done its work, and she knew that her only +possible course lay in putting an end to her engagement. + +She had always liked Blake Grange. She knew that she always would like +him. But emphatically she did not love him, and she knew now with the +sure intuition which all women develop sooner or later that he +had never loved her. He had proposed to her upon a mere chivalrous +impulse, and she was convinced that he would not wish to quarrel with +her for releasing him. + +Yet she dreaded the interview, even though she was quite sure that he +would not lose his self-control and wax violent, as had Nick on that +terrible night at Simla. She was almost morbidly afraid of hurting his +feelings. + +Of Nick she rigidly refused to think at all, though it was no easy +matter to exclude him from her thoughts, for he always seemed to be +clamouring for admittance. But she could not help wondering if, when +Blake had gone at last and she was free, she would be very greatly +afraid. + +She was sitting alone in her room that afternoon, watching the +scudding rain-clouds, when Olga brought her two letters. + +"Both from Brethaven," she said, "but neither from Nick. I wonder if +he is at Redlands. I hope he will come over here if he is." + +Muriel did not echo the hope. She knew the handwriting upon both the +envelopes, and she opened Daisy's first. It did not take long to read. +It simply contained a brief explanation of her presence at Brethaven, +which was due to an engagement having fallen through, mentioned Blake +as being on the point of departure, and wound up with the hope that +Muriel would not in any way alter her plans for her benefit as she was +only at the cottage for a few days to pack her possessions and she did +not suppose that she would care to be with her while this was going +on. + +There was no reference to any future meeting, and Muriel gravely put +the letter away in thoughtful silence. She had no clue whatever to the +slackening of their friendship, but she could not fail to note with +pain how far asunder they had drifted. + +She turned to Grange's letter with a faint wonder as to why he should +have troubled himself to write when he was so short a distance from +her. + +It contained but a few sentences; she read them with widening eyes. + + "Fate or the devil has been too strong for me, and I am + compelled to break my word to you. I have no excuse to offer, + except that my hand has been forced. Perhaps in the end it + will be better for you, but I would have stood by had it been + possible. And even now I would not desert you if I did not + positively know that you were safe--that the thing you feared + has ceased to exist. + + "Muriel, I have broken my oath, and I can hardly ask your + forgiveness. I only beg you to believe that it was not by my + own choice. I was fiendishly driven to it against my will. + I came to this place to say good-bye, but I shall leave + to-morrow without seeing you unless you should wish otherwise. + + "B. Grange." + +She reached the end of the letter and sat quite still, staring at the +open page. + +She was free, that was her first thought, free by no effort of her +own. The explanation she had dreaded had become unnecessary. She would +not even have to face the ordeal of a meeting. She drew a long breath +of relief. + +And then swift as a poisoned arrow came another thought,--a stabbing, +intolerable suspicion. Why had he thus set her free? How had his hand +been forced? By what means had he been fiendishly driven? + +She read the letter through again, and suddenly her heart began to +throb thick and hard, so that she gasped for breath. This was Nick's +doing. She was as sure of it as if those brief, bitter sentences had +definitely told her so. Nick was the motive power that had compelled +Grange to this action. How he had done it, she could not even vaguely +surmise. But that he had in some malevolent fashion come between them +she did not for an instant doubt. + +And wherefore? She put her hand to her throat, feeling suffocated, +as the memory of that last interview with him on the shore raced +with every fiery detail through her brain. He had marked her down for +himself, long, long ago, and whatever Dr. Jim might say, he had never +abandoned the pursuit. He meant to capture her at last. She might +flee, but he was following, tireless, fleet, determined. Presently he +would swoop like an eagle upon his prey, and she would be utterly at +his mercy. He had beaten Grange, and there was no one left to help +her. + +"Oh, Muriel,"--it was Olga's voice from the window--"come here, quick, +quick! I can see a hawk." + +She started as one starts from a horrible dream, and looked round with +dazed eyes. + +"It's hovering!" cried Olga excitedly. "It's hovering! There! Now it +has struck!" + +"And something is dead," said Muriel, in a voiceless whisper. + +The child turned round, saw something unusual in her friend's face, +and went impetuously to her. + +"Muriel, darling, you look so strange. Is anything the matter?" + +Muriel put an arm around her. "No, nothing," she said. "Olga, will it +surprise you very much to hear that I am not going to marry Captain +Grange after all?" + +"No, dear," said Olga. "I never somehow thought you would, and I +didn't want you to either." + +"Why not?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. "I thought you liked +him." + +"Oh, yes, of course I do," said Olga. "But he isn't half the man Nick +is, even though he is a V.C. Oh, Muriel, I wish,--I do wish--you would +marry Nick. Perhaps you will now." + +But at that Muriel cried out sharply and sprang to her feet, almost +thrusting Olga from her. + +"No, never!" she exclaimed, "Never,--never,--never!" Then, seeing +Olga's hurt face, "Oh, forgive me, dear! I didn't mean to be +unkind. But please don't ever dream of such a thing again. It--it's +impossible--quite. Ah, there is the gong for tea. Let us go down." + +They went down hand in hand. But Olga was very quiet for the rest of +the evening; and she did not cling to Muriel as usual when she said +good-night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL + + +It was growing late on that same evening when to Daisy, packing in her +room with feverish haste, a message was brought that Captain Ratcliffe +was waiting, and desired to see her. + +Her first impulse was to excuse herself from the interview, for she +and Nick had never stood upon ceremony; but a very brief consideration +decided her to see him. Since he had come at an unusual hour, it +seemed probable that he had some special object in view, and if that +were so, she would find it hard to turn him from his purpose. But she +resolved to make the interview as brief as possible. She had no place +for Nick in her life just then. + +She entered the little parlour with a certain impetuosity, that was +not wholly spontaneous. "My dear Nick," she said, as she did so, +"I can give you exactly five minutes, not one second more, for I am +frightfully busy packing up my things to leave to-morrow." + +He came swiftly to meet her, so swiftly that she was for the moment +deceived, and fancied that he was about to greet her with his +customary bantering gallantry. But he did not lift her fingers to his +lips after his usual gay fashion. He only held her proffered hand very +tightly for several seconds without verbal greeting of any sort. + +Suddenly he began to speak, and as he did so she seemed to see +a hundred wrinkles spring into being on his yellow face. "I have +something to say to you, Mrs. Musgrave," he said. "And it's something +so particularly beastly that I funk saying it. We have always been +such pals, you and I, and that makes it all the harder." + +He broke off, his shrewd glance flashing over her, keen and elusive as +a rapier. Daisy faced him quite fully and fearlessly. The possibility +of a conflict in this quarter had occurred to her before. She would +not shirk it, but she was determined that it should be as brief as +possible. + +"Being pals doesn't entitle you to go trespassing, Nick," she said. + +"I know that," said Nick, speaking very rapidly. "None better. But +I am not thinking of you only, though I hate to make you angry. Mrs. +Musgrave--Daisy--I want to ask you, and you can't refuse to answer. +What are you doing? What are you going to do?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, speaking coldly. "And anyhow +I can't stop to listen to you. I haven't time. I think you had better +go." + +"You must listen," Nick said. She caught the grim note of +determination in his voice, and was aware of the whole force of his +personality flung suddenly against her. "Daisy," he said, "you are to +look upon me as Will's representative. I am the nearest friend he has. +Have you thought of him at all lately, stewing in those hellish Plains +for your sake? He's such a faithful chap, you know. Can't you go back +to him soon? Isn't it--forgive me--isn't it a bit shabby to play +this sort of game when there's a fellow like that waiting for you and +fretting his very heart out because you don't go?" + +He stopped--his lips twitching with the vigour of his appeal. And +Daisy realised that he would have to be told the simple truth. He +would not be satisfied with less. + +Very pale but quite calm, she braced herself to tell him. "I am afraid +you are pleading a lost cause," she said, her words quiet and very +distinct. "I am never going back to him." + +"Never!" Nick moved sharply drawing close to her. "Never?" he said +again; then with abrupt vehemence, "Daisy, you don't mean that! You +didn't say it!" + +She drew back slightly from him, but her answer was perfectly steady, +rigidly determined. "I have said it, Nick. And I meant it. You had +better go. You will do no good by staying to argue. I know all +that you can possibly say, and it makes no difference to me. I have +chosen." + +"What have you chosen?" he demanded. + +For an instant she hesitated. There was something almost fierce in his +manner, something she had never encountered before, something that +in spite of her utmost effort made her feel curiously uneasy, even +apprehensive. She had always known that there was a certain uncanny +strength about Nick, but to feel the whole weight of it directed +against her was a new experience. + +"What have you chosen?" he repeated relentlessly. + +And reluctantly, more than half against her will, she told him. "I am +going to the man I love." + +She was prepared for some violent outburst upon her words, but +none came. Nick heard her in silence, standing straight before her, +watching her, she felt, with an almost brutal intentness, though his +eyes never for an instant met her own. + +"Then," he said suddenly at length, and quick though they were, +it seemed to her that the words fell with something of the awful +precision of a death-sentence, "God help you both; for you are going +to destroy him and yourself too." + +Daisy made a sharp gesture; it was almost one of shrinking. And at +once he turned from her and fell to pacing the little room, up and +down, up and down incessantly, like an animal in a cage. It was +useless to attempt to dismiss him, for she saw that he would not go. +She moved quietly to a chair and sat down to wait. + +Abruptly at last he stopped, halting in front of her. "Daisy,"--he +began, and broke off short, seeming to battle with himself. + +She looked up in surprise. It was so utterly unlike Nick to relinquish +his self-command at a critical juncture. The next moment he amazed her +still further. He dropped suddenly down on his knees and gripped her +clasped hands fast. + +"Daisy," he said again, and this time words came, jerky and +passionate, "this is my doing. I've driven you to it. If I hadn't +interfered with Grange, you would never have thought of it." + +She sat without moving, but the hasty utterance had its effect upon +her. Some of the rigidity went out of her attitude. "My dear Nick," +she said, "what is the good of saying that?" + +"Isn't it true?" he persisted. + +She hesitated, unwilling to wound him. + +"You know it is true," he declared with vehemence. "If I had let him +alone, he would have married Muriel, and this thing would never have +happened. God knows I did what was right, but if it doesn't turn out +right, I'm done for. I never believed in eternal damnation before, but +if this thing comes to pass it will be hell-fire for me for as long as +I live. For I shall never believe in God again." + +He swung away from her as though in bodily torture, came in contact +with the table and bowed his head upon it. For many seconds his +breathing, thick and short, almost convulsed, was the only sound in +the room. + +As for Daisy, she sat still, staring at him dumbly, witnessing his +agony till the sight of it became more than she could bear. Then she +moved, reached stiffly forward, and touched him. + +"You are not to blame yourself, Nick," she said. + +He did not stir. "I don't," he answered, and again fell silent. + +At last he moved, seemed to pull himself together, finally got to his +feet. + +"Do you think you will be happy?" he said. "Do you think you will +ever manage to forget what you have sacrificed to this fetish you +call Love,--how you broke the heart of one of the best fellows in the +world, and trampled upon the memory of your dead child--the little +chap you used to call the light of your eyes, who used to hold out his +arms directly he saw you and cry when you went away?" + +His voice was not very steady, and he paused but he did not look at +her or seem to expect any reply. + +Daisy gave a great shiver. She felt cold from head to foot. But she +was not afraid of Nick. If she yielded, it would not be through fear. + +A full minute crawled away before he spoke again. "And this fellow +Grange," he said then. "He is a man who values his honour. He has +lived a clean life. He holds an unblemished record. He is in your +hands. You can do what you like with him--whatever your love inspires +you to do. You can pull him back into a straight course, or you can +wreck him for good and all. Which is it going to be, I wonder? It's a +sacrifice either way,--a sacrifice to Love or a sacrifice to devils. +You can make it which you will. But if it is to be the last, never +talk of Love again. For Love--real Love--is the safeguard from all +evil. And if you can do this thing, it has never been above your +horizon, and never will be." + +Again he stopped, and again there was silence while Daisy sat +white-faced and slightly bowed, wondering when it would be over, +wondering how much longer she could possibly endure. + +And then suddenly he bent down over her. His hand was on her shoulder. +"Daisy," he said, and voice and touch alike implored her, "give him +up, dear! Give him up! You can do it if you will, if your love is +great enough. I know how infernally hard it is to do. I've done it +myself. It means tearing your very heart out. But it will be worth +it--it must be worth it--afterwards. You are bound--some time--to reap +what you have sown." + +She lifted a haggard face. There was something in the utterance that +compelled her. And so looking, she saw that which none other of this +man's friend's had ever seen. She saw his naked soul, stripped bare of +all deception, of all reserve,--a vital, burning flame shining in the +desert. The sight moved her as had nought else. + +"Oh, Nick," she cried out desperately, "I can't--I can't!" + +He bent lower over her. He was looking straight down into her eyes. +"Daisy," he said very urgently, "Daisy, for God's sake--try!" + +Her white lips quivered, striving again to refuse. But the words would +not come. Her powers of resistance had begun to totter. + +"You can do it," he declared, his voice quick and passionate as though +he pleaded with her for life itself. "You can do it--if you will. I +will help you. You shan't stand alone. Don't stop to think. Just come +with me now--at once--and put an end to it before you sleep. For you +can't do this thing, Daisy. It isn't in you. It is all a monstrous +mistake, and you can't go on with it. I know you better than you know +yourself. We haven't been pals all these years for nothing. And there +is that in your heart that won't let you go on. I thought it was dead +a few minutes ago. But, thank God, it isn't. I can see it in your +eyes." + +She uttered an inarticulate sound that was more bitter than any +weeping, and covered her face. + +Instantly Nick straightened himself and turned away. He went to the +window and leaned his head against the sash. He had the spent look of +a man who has fought to the end of his strength. The thunder of the +waves upon the shore filled in the long, long silence. + +Minutes crawled away, and still he stood there with his face to the +darkness. At last a voice spoke behind him, and he turned. Daisy had +risen. + +She stood in the lamplight, quite calm and collected. There was even a +smile upon her face, but it was a smile that was sadder than tears. + +"It's been a desperate big fight, hasn't it, Nick?" she said. "But--my +dear--you've won. For the sake of my little baby, and for the sake of +the man I love--yes, and partly for your sake too,"--she held out her +hand to him with the words--"I am going back to the prison-house. No, +don't speak to me. You have said enough. And, Nick, I must go alone. +So I want you, please, to go away, and not to come to me again until I +send for you. I shall send sooner or later. Will you do this?" + +Her voice never faltered, but the misery in her eyes cut him to the +heart. In that moment he realised how terribly near he had been to +losing the hardest battle he had ever fought. + +He gave her no second glance. Simply, without a word, he stooped and +kissed the hand she had given him; then turned and went noiselessly +away. + +He had won indeed, but the only triumph he knew was the pain of a very +human compassion. + +Scarcely five minutes after his departure, Daisy let herself out into +the night that lay like a pall above the moaning shore. She went with +lagging feet that often stumbled in the darkness. It was only the +memory of a baby's head against her breast that gave her strength. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +REQUIESCAT + + +"I believe I heard a gun in the night," remarked Mrs. Ratcliffe at the +breakfast-table on the following morning. + +"Shouldn't be surprised," said Dr. Jim. "I know there was a ship in +distress off Calister yesterday. They damaged the lifeboat trying to +reach her. But the wind seems to have gone down a little this morning. +Do you care for a ride, Muriel?" + +Muriel accepted the invitation gladly. She liked accompanying Dr. Jim +upon his rounds. She had arranged to leave two days later, a decision +which the news of Daisy's presence at Brethaven had not affected. +Daisy seemed to have dropped her for good and all, and her pride would +not suffer her to inquire the reason. She had, in fact, begun to think +that Daisy had merely tired of her, and that being so she was the +more willing to go to Mrs. Langdale, whose letters of fussy kindliness +seemed at least to ensure her a cordial welcome. + +She had discussed her troubles no further with Dr. Jim. Grange's +letter had in some fashion placed matters beyond discussion. And so +she had only briefly told him that her engagement was at an end, and +he had gruffly expressed his satisfaction thereat. Her one idea now +was to escape from Nick's neighbourhood as speedily as possible. It +possessed her even in her dreams. + +She went with Dr. Jim to the surgery when breakfast was over, and sat +down alone in the consulting-room to wait for him. He usually started +on his rounds at ten o'clock, but it wanted a few minutes to the +hour and the motor was not yet at the door. She sat listening for it, +hoping that no one would appear to detain him. + +The morning was bright, and the wind had fallen considerably. Through +the window she watched the falling leaves as they eddied in sudden +draughts along the road. She looked through a wire screen that gave +rather a depressing effect to the sunshine. + +Suddenly from some distance away there came to her the sound of a +horse's hoof-beats, short and hard, galloping over the stones. It +was a sound that arrested the attention, awaking in her a vague, +apprehensive excitement. Almost involuntarily she drew nearer to the +window, peering above the blind. + +Some seconds elapsed before she caught sight of the headlong horseman, +and then abruptly he dashed into sight round a curve in the road. At +the same instant the gallop became a fast trot, and she saw that the +rider was gripping the animal with his knees. He had no saddle. + +Amazed and startled, she stood motionless, gazing at the sudden +apparition, saw as the pair drew nearer what something within her had +already told her loudly before her vision served her, and finally drew +back with a sharp, instinctive contraction of her whole body as the +horseman reined in before the surgery-door and dismounted with a +monkey-like dexterity, his one arm twined in the bridle. A moment +later the surgery-bell pealed loudly, and her heart stood still. She +felt suddenly sick with a nameless foreboding. + +Standing with bated breath, she heard Dr. Jim himself go to answer the +summons, and an instant later Nick's voice came to her, gasping and +uneven, but every word distinct. + +"Ah, there you are! Thought I should catch you. Man, you're +wanted--quick! In heaven's name--lose no time. Grange was drowned +early this morning, and--I believe it's killed Daisy. For mercy's +sake, come at once!" + +There was a momentary pause. Muriel's heart was beating in great +sickening throbs. She felt stiff and powerless. + +Dr. Jim's voice, brief and decided, struck through the silence. "Come +inside and have something. I shall be ready to start in three minutes. +Leave your animal here. He's dead beat." + +There followed the sound of advancing feet, a hand upon the door, and +the next moment they entered together. Nick was reeling a little and +holding Jim's arm. He saw Muriel with a sharp start, standing as she +had turned from the window. The doctor's brows met for an instant as +he put his brother into a chair. He had forgotten Muriel. + +With an effort she overcame the paralysis that bound her, and moved +forward with shaking limbs. + +"Did you say Blake was--dead?" she asked, her voice pitched very low. + +She looked at Nick as she asked this question, and it was Nick who +answered her in his quick, keen way, as though he realised the mercy +of brevity. + +"Yes. He and some fisher chaps went out early this morning in an +ordinary boat to rescue some fellows on a wreck that had drifted on +to the rocks outside the harbour. The lifeboat had been damaged, and +couldn't be used. They reached the wreck all right, but there were +more to save than they had reckoned on--more than the boat would +carry--and the wreck was being battered to pieces. It was only a +matter of seconds for the tide was rising. So they took the lot, and +Grange went over the side to make it possible. He hung on to a rope +for a time, but the seas were tremendous, and after a bit it parted. +He was washed up two hours ago. He had been in the water since three, +among the rocks. There wasn't the smallest chance of bringing him +back. He was long past any help we could give." + +He ended abruptly, and helped himself with a jerk to something in a +glass that Jim had placed by his side. + +Muriel stood dumbly watching. She noticed with an odd, detached sense +of curiosity that he was shivering violently as one with an ague. Dr. +Jim was already making swift preparations for departure. + +Suddenly Nick looked up at her. His eyes were glittering strangely. "I +know now," he said, "what you women feel like when you can only stand +and look on. We have been looking on--Daisy and I--just looking on, +for six mortal hours." He banged his fist with a sort of condensed +fury upon the table, and leapt to his feet. "Jim, are you ready? I +can't sit still any longer." + +"Finish that stuff, and don't be a fool!" ordered Jim curtly. + +Muriel turned swiftly towards him. "You'll take me with you!" she said +very earnestly. + +Nick broke in sharply upon the request. "No, no, Muriel! You're not to +go. Jim, you can't--you shan't--take her! I won't allow it!" + +But Muriel was clinging to Dr. Jim's arm with quivering face upraised. +"You will take me," she entreated. "I was able to help Daisy before. I +can help her now." + +But even before she spoke there flashed a swift glance between the two +brothers that foiled her appeal almost before it was uttered. With +a far greater gentleness than was customary with him, but with +unmistakable decision, Dr. Jim refused her petition. + +"I can't take you now, child. But if Daisy should ask for you, or +if there is anything under the sun that you can do for her, I will +promise to let you know." + +It was final, but she would not have it so. A sudden gust of anger +caught her, anger against the man for whose sake she had one night +shed so many bitter tears, whom now she so fierily hated. She still +clung to Jim. She was shaking all over. + +"What does it matter what Nick says?" she urged pantingly. "Why give +in to him at every turn? I won't be left behind--just because he +wishes it!" + +She would have said more. Her self-control was tottering; but Dr. Jim +restrained her. "My dear, it is not for Nick's sake," he said. "Come, +you are going to be sensible. Sit down and get your breath. There's +no time for hysterics. I must go across and speak to my wife before I +go." + +He looked at Nick who instantly responded. "Yes, you be off! I'll look +after her. Be quick, man, be quick!" + +But when Dr. Jim was gone, his impatience fell away from him. He +moved round the table and stood before her. He was steady enough now, +steadier far than she. + +"Don't take it too hard," he said. "At least he died like a man." + +She did not draw away from him. There was no room for fear in her +heart just then. It held only hatred--a fierce, consuming flame--that +enabled her to face him as she had never faced him before. + +"Why did you let him go?" she demanded of him, her voice deep and +passionate, her eyes unwaveringly upon him. "There must have been +others. You were there. Why didn't you stop him?" + +"I stop him!" said Nick, and a flash of something that was almost +humour crossed his face. "You seem to think I am omnipotent." + +Her eyes continued to challenge him. "You always manage to get your +own way somehow," she said very bitterly, "by fair means or foul. Are +you going to deny that it was you who made him write that letter?" + +He did not ask her what she meant. "No," he said with a promptitude +that took her by surprise. "I plead guilty to that. As you are aware, +I never approved of your engagement." + +His effrontery stung her into what was almost a state of frenzy. Her +eyes blazed their utmost scorn. She had never been less afraid of him +than at that moment. She had never hated him more intensely. + +"You could make him do a thing like that," she said. "And yet you +couldn't hold him back from certain death!" + +He answered her without heat, in a tone she deemed most hideously +callous. "It was not my business to hold him back. He was wanted. +There would have been no rescue but for him. They needed a man to lead +them, or they wouldn't have gone at all." + +His composure goaded her beyond all endurance. She scarcely waited for +him to finish, nor was she wholly responsible for what she said. + +"Was there only one man among you, then?" she asked, with headlong +contempt. + +He made her a curious, jerky bow. "One man--yes," he said. "The rest +were mere sheep, with the exception of one--who was a cripple." + +Her heart contracted suddenly with a pain that was physical. She felt +as if he had struck her, and it goaded her to a fiercer cruelty. + +"You knew he would never come back!" she declared her voice quivering +uncontrollably with the passion that shook her. "You--you never meant +him to come back!" + +He opened his eyes wide for a single instant, and she fancied that she +had touched him. It was the first time in her memory that she had ever +seen them fully. Instinctively she avoided them, as she would have +avoided a flash of lightning. + +And then he spoke, and she knew at once that her wild accusation had +in no way hurt him. "You think that, do you?" he said, and his tone +sounded to her as though he barely repressed a laugh. "Awfully nice of +you! I wonder what exactly you take me for." + +She did not keep him in suspense on that point. If she had never had +the strength to tell him before, she could tell him now. + +"I take you for a fiend!" she cried hysterically. "I take you for a +fiend!" + +He turned sharply from her, so sharply that she was conscious of a +moment's fear overmastering her madness. But instantly, with his back +to her, he spoke, and her brief misgiving was gone. + +"It doesn't matter much now what you take me for," he said, and again +in the cracked notes of his voice she seemed to hear the echo of a +laugh. "You won't need to seek any more protectors so far as I am +concerned. You will never see me again unless the gods ordain that +you should come and find me. It isn't the way of an eagle to swoop +twice--particularly an eagle with only one wing." + +The laugh was quite audible now, and she never saw how that one hand +of his was clenched and pressed against his side. He had reached the +door while he was speaking. Turning swiftly, he cast one flickering, +inscrutable glance towards her, and then with no gesture of farewell +was gone. She heard his receding footsteps die away while she +struggled dumbly to quell the tumult of her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +LOVE'S PRISONER + + +Late that evening a scribbled note reached Muriel from Dr. Jim. + +"You can do nothing whatever," he wrote. "Daisy is suffering from +a sharp attack of brain fever, caused by the shock of her cousin's +death, and I think it advisable that no one whom she knows should be +near her. You may rest assured that all that can be done for her will +be done. And, Muriel, I think you will be wise to go to Mrs. Langdale +as you originally intended. It will be better for you, as I think +you will probably realise. You shall be kept informed of Daisy's +condition, but I do not anticipate any immediate change." + +She was glad of those few words of advice. Her anxiety regarding +Daisy notwithstanding, she knew it would be a relief to her to go. The +strain of many days was telling upon her. She felt herself to be on +the verge of a break-down, and she longed unspeakably to escape. + +She went to her room early on her last night at Weir, but not in order +to rest the longer. She had something to do, something from which she +shrank with a strange reluctance, yet which for her peace of mind she +dared not leave neglected. + +It was thus she expressed it to herself as with trembling fingers she +opened the box that contained all her sacred personal treasures. + +It lay beneath them all, wrapped in tissue-paper, as it had passed +from his hand to hers, and for long she strove to bring herself to +slip the tiny packet unopened into an envelope and seal it down--yet +could not. + +At last--it was towards midnight--she yielded to the force that +compelled. Against her will she unfolded the shielding paper and held +that which it contained upon the palm of her hand. Burning rubies, +red as heart's blood, ardent as flame, flashed and glinted in the +lamp-light. "OMNIA VINCIT AMOR"--how the words scorched her memory! +And she had wondered once if they were true! + +She knew now! She knew now! He had forced her to realise it. He had +captured her, had kindled within her--by what magic she knew not--the +undying Against her will, in spite of her utmost resistance, he had +done this thing. Above and beyond and through her fiercest hatred, he +had conquered her quivering heart. He had let her go again, but not +till he had blasted her happiness for ever. None other could ever +dominate her as this man dominated. None other could ever kindle in +her--or ever quench--the torch that this man's hand had lighted. + +And this was Love--this hunger that could never be satisfied, this +craving which would not be stifled or ignored--Love triumphant, +invincible, immortal--the thing she had striven to slay at its +birth, but which had lived on in spite of her, growing, spreading, +enveloping, till she was lost, till she was suffocated, in its +immensity. There could never be any escape for her again. She was +fettered hand and foot. It was useless any longer to strive. She stood +and faced the truth. + +She did not ask herself how it was she had ever come to care. She only +numbly realised that she had always cared. And she knew now that to no +woman is it given so to hate as she had hated without the spur of Love +goading her thereto. Ah, but Love was cruel! + +Love was merciless! For she had never known--nor ever could know +now--the ecstasy of Love. Truly, it conquered; but it left its +prisoners to perish of starvation in the wilderness. + +A slight sound in the midnight silence! A timid hand softly trying +the door-handle! She sprang up, dropping the ring upon her table, and +turned to see Olga in her nightdress, standing in the doorway. + +"I was awake," the child explained tremulously. "And I heard you +moving. And I wondered, dear Muriel, if perhaps I could do anything to +help you. You--you don't mind?" + +Muriel opened her arms impulsively. She felt as if Olga had been sent +to lighten her darkest hour. + +For a while she held her close, not speaking at all; and it was Olga +who at last broke the silence. + +"Darling, are you crying for Captain Grange?" + +She raised her head then to meet the child's gaze of tearful sympathy. + +"I am not crying, dear," she said. "And--it wouldn't be for him if I +were. I don't want to cry for him. I just envy him, that's all." + +She leaned her head against Olga's shoulder, rocking a little to and +fro with closed eyes. "Yes," she said at last, "you can help me, Olga, +if you will. That ring on the table, dear,--a ring with rubies--do you +see it?" + +"Yes," breathed Olga, holding her very close. + +"Then just take it, dear." Muriel's voice was unutterably weary; she +seemed to speak with a great effort. "It belongs to Nick. He gave it +to me once, long ago, in remembrance of something. I want you to give +it back to him, and tell him simply that I prefer to forget." + +Olga took up the ring. Her lips were trembling. "Aren't you--aren't +you being nice to Nick any more, Muriel?" she asked in a whisper. + +Muriel did not answer. + +"Not when you promised?" the child urged piteously. + +There was silence. Muriel's face was hidden. Her black hair hung about +her like a cloud, veiling her from her friend's eyes. For a long time +she said nothing whatever. Then at last without moving she made reply. + +"It's no use, Olga. I can't! I can't! It's not my doing. It's his. +Oh, I think my heart is broken!" Through the anguish of weeping that +followed, Olga clasped her passionately close, frightened, by an +intensity of suffering such as she had never seen before and was +powerless to alleviate. + +She slept with Muriel that night, but, waking in the dawning, just +when Muriel had sunk to sleep, she crept out of bed and, with Nick's +ring grasped tightly in her hand, softly stole away. + + + + +PART V + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +THE VISION + + +A gorgeous sunset lay in dusky, fading crimson upon the Plains, +trailing to darkness in the east. The day had been hot and cloudless, +but a faint, chill wind had sprung up with the passing of the sun, +and it flitted hither and thither like a wandering spirit over the +darkening earth. + +Down in the native quarter a _tom-tom_ throbbed, persistent, +exasperating as the voice of conscience. Somewhere in the distance a +dog barked restlessly, at irregular intervals. And at a point between +_tom-tom_ and dog a couple of parrots screeched vociferously. + +Over all, the vast Indian night was rushing down on silent, mysterious +wings. Crimson merged to grey in the telling, and through the falling +dark there shone, detached and wonderful, a single star. + +In the little wooden bungalow over against, the water-works a light +had been kindled and gleamed out in a red streak across the Plain. +Other lights were beginning to flicker also from all points of the +compass, save only where a long strip of jungle lay like a blot upon +the face of the earth. But the red light burned the steadiest of them +all. + +It came from the shaded lamp of an Englishman, and beneath it with +stubborn, square-jawed determination the Englishman sat at work. + +Very steadily his hand moved over the white paper, and the face that +was bent above it never varied--a face that still possessed something +of the freshness of youth though the set of the lips was firm even to +sternness and the line of the chin was hard. He never raised his eyes +as he worked except to refer to the notebook at his elbow. The passage +of time seemed of no moment to him. + +Yet at the soft opening of the door, he did look up for an instant, a +gleam of expectancy upon his face that died immediately. + +"All right, Sammy, directly," he said, returning without pause to his +work. + +Sammy, butler, bearer, and general factotum, irreproachable from his +snowy turban to his white-slippered feet, did not take the hint +to retire, but stood motionless just inside the room, waiting with +statuesque patience till his master should deign to bestow upon him +the favour of his full attention. + +After a little Will Musgrave realised this, and with an abrupt sigh +sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his forehead. + +"Well?" he said then. "You needn't trouble to tell me that the mail +has passed, for I heard the fellow half an hour ago. Of course there +were no letters?" + +The man shook his head despondingly. "No letters, sahib." + +"Then what do you want?" asked Will, beginning to eye his work again. + +Sammy--so dubbed by Daisy long ago because his own name was too sore +a tax upon her memory--sent a look of gleaming entreaty across the +lamp-lit space that separated him from his master. + +"The dinner grows cold, sahib," he observed pathetically. + +Will smiled a little. "All right, my good Sammy. What does it matter? +I'm sure if I don't mind, you needn't. And I'm busy just now." + +But the Indian stood his ground. "What will my mem-sahib say to me," +he said, "when she comes and finds that my lord has been starved?" + +Will's face changed. It was a very open face, boyishly sincere. He did +not laugh at the earnest question. He only gravely shook his head. + +"The mem-sahib will come," the man declared, with conviction. "And +what will her servant say when she asks him why his master is so thin? +She will say, 'Sammy, I left him in your care. What have you done to +him?' And, sahib, what answer can her servant give?" + +Will clasped his hands at the back of his head in a careless attitude, +but his face was grim. "I don't think you need worry yourself, Sammy," +he said. "I am not expecting the mem-sahib--at present." + +Nevertheless, moved by the man's solicitude, he rose after a moment +and laid his work together. He might as well dine, he reflected, as +sit and argue about it. With a heavy step he passed into the room +where dinner awaited him, and sat down at the table. + +No, he was certainly not expecting her at present. He had even of late +begun to ask himself if he expected her at all. It was five months now +since the news of her severe illness had almost induced him to throw +everything aside and go to her. He had only been deterred from this +by a very serious letter from Dr. Jim, strongly advising him to remain +where he was, since it was highly improbable that he would be allowed +to see Daisy for weeks or even months were he at hand, and she would +most certainly be in no fit state to return with him to India. That +letter had been to Will as the passing knell of all he had ever hoped +or desired. Definitely it had told him very little, but he was +not lacking in perception, and he had read a distinct and wholly +unmistakable meaning behind the guarded, kindly sentences. And he knew +when he laid the letter down that in Dr. Jim's opinion his presence +might do incalculable harm. From that day forward he had entertained +no further idea of return, settling down again to his work with a +dogged patience that was very nearly allied to despair. + +He was undoubtedly a rising man. There were prospects of a speedy +improvement in his position. It was unlikely that he would be called +upon to spend another hot season in the scorching Plains. Steady +perseverance and indubitable talent had made their mark. But success +was dust and ashes to him now. He did not greatly care if he went or +stayed. + +That Daisy was well again, or on the high-road to recovery, he knew; +but he had not received a single letter from her since her illness. + +Jim's epistles were very few and far between, but Nick had maintained +a fairly regular correspondence with him till a few weeks back when it +had unaccountably lapsed. But then Nick had done unaccountable things +before, and he did not set down his silence to inconstancy. He was +probably making prodigious efforts on his behalf, and Will awaited +every mail with an eagerness he could not quite suppress, which turned +invariably, however, into a sick sense of disappointment. + +That Daisy would ever return to him now he did not for an instant +believe, but there remained the chance--the slender, infinitesimal +chance--that she might ask him to go to her. More than a flying visit +she would know he could not manage. His work was his living, and +hers. But so much Nick's powers of persuasion might one day accomplish +though he would not allow himself to contemplate the possibility, +while week by week the chance dwindled. + +So he sat alone and unexpectant at his dinner-table that night and +made heroic efforts to pacify the vigilant Sammy whose protest had +warmed his heart a little if it had not greatly assisted his appetite. + +He was glad when the meal was over, and he could saunter out on to +the verandah with his cigar. The night was splendid with stars; but it +held no moon. The wind had died away, but it had left a certain chill +behind; and somehow he was reminded of a certain evening of early +summer in England long ago, when he and Daisy had strolled together +in an English garden, and she had yielded impulsively to his earnest +wooing and had promised to be his wife. He remembered still the little +laugh half sweet, half bitter, with which she had surrendered, the +soft raillery of her blue eyes that yet had not wholly mocked him, the +dainty charm of her submission. She had not loved him. He had known it +even then. She had almost told him so. But with a boy's impetuosity he +had taken the little she had to give, trusting to the future to make +her all his own. + +Ah, well! He caught himself sighing, and found that his cigar was out. +With something less than his customary self-suppression he pitched it +forth into the darkness. He could not even smoke with any enjoyment. +He would go indoors and work. + +He swung round on his heel, and started back along the verandah +towards his room from which the red light streamed. Three strides he +took with his eyes upon the ground. Then for no reason that he knew he +glanced up towards that bar of light. The next instant he stood still +as one transfixed, and all the blood rushed in tumult to his heart. + +There, motionless in the full glare--watching him, waiting for +him--stood his wife! + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +THE HEART OF A MAN + + +She did not utter a single word or move to greet him. Even in that +ruddy light she was white to the lips. Her hands were fast gripped +together. She did not seem to breathe. + +So for full thirty seconds they faced one another, speechless, +spell-bound, while through the awful silence the cry of a jackal +sounded from afar, seeking its meat from God. + +Will was the first to move, feeling for his handkerchief mechanically +and wiping his forehead. Also he tried to speak aloud, but his voice +was gone. "Pull yourself together, you fool!" he whispered savagely. +"She'll be gone again directly." + +She caught the words apparently, for her attitude changed. She parted +her straining hands as though by great effort, and moved towards him. + +Out of the glare of the lamplight she looked more normal. She wore +a grey travelling-dress, but her hat was off. He fancied he saw the +sparkle of the starlight in her hair. + +She came towards him a few steps, and then she stopped. "Will," she +said, and her voice had a piteous tremble in it, "won't you speak to +me? Don't you--don't you know me?" + +Her voice awoke him, brought him down from the soaring heights of +imagination as it were with a thud. He strode forward and caught her +hands in his. + +"Good heavens, Daisy!" he said. "I thought I was dreaming! How on +earth--" + +And there he stopped dead, checked in mid career, for she was leaning +back from him, leaning back with all her strength that he might not +kiss her. + +He stood, still holding her hands, and looked at her. There was a +curious, choked sensation at his throat, as if he had swallowed ashes. +She had come back to him--she had come back to him indeed, but he had +a feeling that she was somehow beyond his reach, further away from him +in that moment of incredible reunion than she had ever been during all +the weary months of their separation. This woman with the pale face +and tragic eyes was a total stranger to him. Small wonder that he had +thought himself to be dreaming! + +With a furious effort he collected himself. He let her hands slip +from his. "Come in here," he said, forcing his dry throat to speech by +sheer strength of will. "You should have let me know." + +She went in without a word, and came to a stand before the table that +was littered with his work. She was agitated, he saw. Her hand was +pressed against her heart, and she seemed to breathe with difficulty. + +Instinctively he came to her aid with commonplace phrases--the first +that occurred to him. "How did you come? But no matter! Tell me +presently. You must have something to eat. You look dead beat. Sit +down, won't--" + +And there he stopped again, breaking off short to stare at her. In the +lighted room she had turned to face him, and he saw that her hair was +no longer golden but silvery white. + +Seeing his look, she began to speak in hurried, uneven sentences. "I +have been ill, you know. It--it was brain fever, Jim said. Hair--fair +hair particularly--does go like that sometimes." + +"You are well again?" he questioned. + +"Oh, quite--quite." There was something almost feverish in the +assertion; she was facing him with desperate resolution. "I have been +well for a long time. Please don't send for anything. I dined at the +dâk-bungalow an hour ago. I--I thought it best." + +Her agitation was increasing. She panted between each sentence. Will +turned aside, shut and bolted the window, and drew the blind. Then he +went close to her; he laid a steady hand upon her. + +"Sit down," he said, "and tell me what is the matter." + +She sank down mutely. Her mouth was quivering; she sought to hide it +from him with her hand. + +"Tell me," he said again, and quietly though he spoke there was in his +tone a certain mastery that had never asserted itself in the old days; +"What is it? Why have you come to me like this?" + +"I--haven't come to stay, Will," she said, her voice so low that it +was barely audible. + +His face changed. He looked suddenly dogged. "After twenty months!" he +said. + +She bent her head. "I know. It's half a lifetime--more. You have +learnt to do without me by this. At least--I hope you have--for your +own sake." + +He made no comment on the words; perhaps he did not hear them. After a +brief silence she heard his voice above her bowed head. "Something is +wrong. You'll tell me presently, won't you? But--really you needn't be +afraid." + +Something in the words--was it a hint of tenderness?--renewed her +failing strength. She commanded herself and raised her head. She +scarcely recognised in the steady, square-chinned man before her +the impulsive, round-faced boy she had left. There was something +unfathomable about him, a hint of greatness that affected her +strangely. + +"Yes," she said. "Something is wrong. It is what I am here for--what I +have come to tell you. And when it is over, I'm going away--I'm going +away--out of your life--for ever, this time." + +His jaw hardened, but he said nothing whatever. He stood waiting for +her to continue. + +She rose slowly to her feet though she was scarcely capable of +standing. She had come to the last ounce of her strength, but she +spent it bravely. + +"Will," she said, and though her voice shook uncontrollably every word +was clear, "I hardly know how to say it. You have always trusted me, +always been true to me. I think--once--you almost worshipped me. But +you'll never worship me any more, because--because--I am unworthy of +you. Do you understand? I was held back from the final wickedness, +or--or I shouldn't be here now. But the sin was there in my heart. +Heaven help me, it is there still. There! I have told you. It--was +your right. I don't ask for mercy or forgiveness. Only punish +me--punish me--and then--let me--go!" + +Voice and strength failed together. Her limbs doubled under her, +and she sank suddenly down at his feet, sobbing--terrible, painful, +tearless sobs that seemed to rend her very being. + +Without a word he stooped and lifted her. He was white to the lips, +but there was no hesitancy about him. He acted instantly and decidedly +as a man quite sure of himself. + +He carried her to the old _charpoy_ by the window and laid her down. + +Many minutes later, when her anguish had a little spent itself, she +realised that he was kneeling beside her, holding her pressed against +his heart. Through all the bitter chaos of her misery and her shame +there came to her the touch of his hand upon her head. + +It amazed her--it thrilled her, that touch of his; in a fashion it +awed her. She kept her face hidden from him; she could not look up. +But he did not seek to see her face. He only kept his hand upon her +throbbing temple till she grew still against his breast. + +Then at length, his voice slow and deep and very steady, he spoke. +"Daisy, we will never speak of this again." + +She gave a great start. Pity, even a certain measure of kindness, +she had almost begun to expect; but not this--not this! She made a +movement to draw herself away from him, but he would not suffer it. He +only held her closer. + +"Oh, don't, Will, don't!" she implored him brokenly. "For your own +sake--let me go!" + +"For my own sake, Daisy," he answered quietly,--"and for yours, since +you have come to me, I will never let you go again." + +"But you can't want me," she insisted piteously. "Don't be generous, +Will. I can't bear it. Anything but that! I would rather you cursed +me--indeed--indeed!" + +His hand restrained her, silenced her. "Hush!" he said. "You are my +wife. I love you, and I want you." + +Tears came to her then with a rush, blinding, burning, overwhelming, +and yet their very agony was relief to her. She made no further +effort to loosen his hold. She even feebly clung to him as one needing +support. + +"Ah, but I must tell you--I must tell you," she whispered at last. +"If--if you mean to forgive me, you must know--everything." + +"Tell me, if it helps you," he answered, and he spoke with the +splendid patience that twenty weary months had wrought in him. "Only +believe--before you begin--that I have forgiven you. For--before +God--it is the truth." + +And so presently, lying in his arms, her face hidden low on his +breast, she told him all, suppressing nothing, extenuating nothing, +simply pouring out the whole bitter story, sometimes halting, +sometimes incoherent, but never wavering in her purpose, till, like +an evil growth that yet clung about her palpitating heart, her sin lay +bare before him--the sin of a woman who had almost forgotten that Love +is a holy thing. + +He heard her to the end with scarcely a word, and when she had +finished he made one comment only. + +"And so you gave him up." + +She shivered with the pain of that memory. "Yes, I gave him up--I +gave him up. Nick had made me see the hopelessness of it all--the +wickedness. And he--he let me go. He saw it too--at least he +understood. And on that very night--oh, Will, that awful night--he +went to his death." + +His arms grew closer about her. "My poor girl!" he said. + +"Ah, but you shouldn't!" she sobbed. "You shouldn't! You ought to hate +me--to despise me." + +"Hush!" he said again. And she knew that with that one word he +resolutely turned his back upon the gulf that had opened between them +during those twenty months--that gulf that his love had been great +enough to bridge--and that he took her with him, bruised and broken +and storm-tossed as she was, into a very sheltered place. + +When presently he turned her face up to his own and gravely kissed her +she clung to his neck like a tired child, no longer fearing to meet +his look, only thankful for the comfort of his arms. + +For a while longer he held her silently, then very quietly he began +to question her about her journey. Had she told him that she had been +putting up at the dâk-bungalow? + +"Oh, only for a few hours," she answered. "We arrived this evening, +Nick and I." + +"Nick!" he said. "And you left him behind?" + +"He is waiting to take me back," she murmured, her face hidden against +his shoulder. + +Again, very tenderly, his hand pressed her forehead. "He must come to +us, eh, dear? I will sent the _khit_ down with a note presently. But +you are tired out, and must rest. Lie here while I go and tell Sammy +to make ready." + +It was when he came back to her that she began to see wherein lay the +change in him that had so struck her. + +From her cushions she looked up at him, piteously smiling. "How thin +you are, Will! And you are getting quite a scholarly stoop." + +"Ah, that's India," he said. + +But she knew that it was not India at all, and her face told him so, +though he affected not to see it. + +He bent over her. "Now, Daisy, I am going to carry you to bed as I +used--do you remember?--at Simla, after the baby came. Dear little +chap! Do you remember how he used to smile in his sleep?" + +His voice was hushed, as though he stood once more beside the tiny +cot. + +She sat up, yielding herself to his arms. "Oh, Will," she said, with a +great sob, "if only he had lived!" + +He held her closely, and lying against his breast she felt the sigh he +stifled. His lips were upon the silvered hair. + +"Perhaps--some day--Daisy," he said, under his breath. + +And she, clinging to him, whispered back through her tears, "Oh, +Will,--I do hope so." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + +IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP + + +It was very hot down on the buzzing race-course, almost intolerably +so in the opinion of the girl who sat in Lady Bassett's +elegantly-appointed carriage, and looked out with the indifference of +boredom upon the sweltering crowds. + +"Dear child, don't look so freezingly aloof!" she had been entreated +more than once; and each time the soft injunction had reached her the +wide dark eyes had taken to themselves a more utter disdain. + +If she looked freezing, she was far from feeling it, for the hot +weather was at its height, and Ghawalkhand, though healthy, was not +the coolest spot in the Indian Empire. Sir Reginald Bassett had been +appointed British Resident, to act as adviser to the young rajah +thereof, and there had been no question of a flitting to Simla that +year. Lady Bassett had deplored this, but Muriel rejoiced. She never +wanted to see Simla again. + +Life was a horrible emptiness to her in those days. She was weary +beyond expression, and had no heart for the gaieties in which she was +plunged. Idle compliments had never attracted her, and flirtations +were an abomination to her. She looked through and beyond them with +the eyes of a sphinx. But there were very few who suspected the +intolerable ache that throbbed unceasingly behind her impassivity--the +loneliness of spirit that oppressed her like a crushing, physical +weight. + +Even Bobby Fraser, who saw most things, could scarcely have been aware +of this; yet certainly it was not the vivacity of her conversation +that induced him to seek her out as he generally did when he saw +her sitting apart. A very cheery bachelor was Bobby Fraser, and a +tremendous favourite wherever he went. He was a wonderful organizer, +and he invariably had a hand in anything of an entertaining nature +that was going forward. + +He had just brought her tea, and was waiting beside her while she +drank it. Lady Bassett had left the carriage for the paddock, and +Muriel sat alone. + +Had she had anything on the last race, he wanted to know? Muriel had +not. He had, and was practically ruined in consequence--a calamity +which in no way seemed to affect his spirits. + +"Who would have expected a rank outsider like that to walk over the +course? Ought to have been disqualified for sheer cheek. Reminds me +of a chap I once knew--forget his name--Nick something or other--who +entered at the last minute for the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura. Did +it for a bet, they said. It's years ago now. The horse was a perfect +brute--all bone and no flesh--with a temper like the foul fiend and +no points whatever--looked a regular crock at starting. But he romped +home on three legs, notwithstanding, with his jockey clinging to him +like an inspired monkey. It was the only race he ever won. Every one +put it down to black magic or personal magnetism on the part of his +rider. Same thing, I believe. He was the sort of chap who always comes +out on top. Rum thing I can't remember his name. I had travelled out +with him on the same boat once too. Have some more tea." + +This was a specimen of most of Bobby Fraser's conversation. He was +brimful of anecdotes. They flowed as easily as water from a fountain. +Their source seemed inexhaustible. He never repeated himself to the +same person. + +Muriel declined his offer of more tea. For some reason she wanted to +hear more of the man who had won the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura. + +Bobby was more than willing to oblige. "Oh, it was sheer cheek that +carried him through, of course. I always said he was the cheekiest +beggar under the sun--quite a little chap he was, hideously ugly, +with a face like a baked apple, and eyes that made you think of a +cinematograph. You know the sort of thing. I used to think he had a +future before him, but he seems to have dropped out. He was only +about twenty when I had him for a stable-companion. I remember one +outrageous thing he did on the voyage out. There was card-playing +going on in the saloon one night, and he was looking on. One of the +lady-players--well, I suppose I may as well call it by its name--one +of them cheated. He detected it. Beastly position, of course. Don't +know what I should have done under the circumstances, but anyhow he +wasn't at a loss. He simply lighted a cigarette and set fire to the +lady's dress." + +Muriel's exclamation of horror was ample testimony to the fact that +her keenest interest was aroused. + +"Yes, awfully risky, wasn't it?" said Bobby. "We only thought at the +time he had been abominably careless. I did not hear the rights of the +case till afterwards, and then not from him. There was a fine flareup, +of course--card-table overturned--ladies in hysterics--in the middle +of the fray our gallant hero extinguishing the flames with his bare +hands. He was profusely apologetic and rather badly scorched. The lady +took very little harm, except to her nerves and her temper. She cut +him dead for the rest of the voyage, but I don't think it depressed +him much. He was the sort of fellow that never gets depressed. Hullo! +There's Mrs. Philpot making violent signs. I suppose I had better go +and see what she wants, or be dropped for evermore. Good-bye!" + +He smiled upon her and departed, leaving her thoughtful, with a +certain wistful wonder in her eyes. + +Lady Bassett's return interrupted her reverie. "You have had some tea, +I hope, dear? Ah, I thought Mr. Bobby Fraser was making his way in +this direction. So sweet of him not to forget you when he has so many +other calls upon his attention. And how are you faring for to-night? +Is your programme full yet? I have literally not one dance left." + +Lady Bassett had deemed it advisable to ignore the fact of Muriel's +brief engagement to Captain Grange since the girl's return to India. +She knew, as did her husband, that it had come to an end before +Grange's death, but she withheld all comment upon it. Her one desire +was to get the dear child married without delay, and she was +not backward in letting her know it. Life at Ghawalkhand was one +continuous round of gaiety, and she had every opportunity for +forwarding her scheme. Though she deplored Muriel's unresponsiveness, +she yet did not despair. It was sheer affectation on the girl's part, +she would tell herself, and would soon pass. And after all, that +queenly, aloof air had a charm that was all its own. It might not +attract the many, but she had begun to fancy of late that Bobby Fraser +had felt its influence. He was not in the least the sort of man +she would have expected to do so, but there was no accounting for +taste--masculine taste especially. And it would be an excellent thing +for Muriel. + +She was therefore being particularly gracious to her young charge just +then--a state of affairs which Muriel endured rather than appreciated. +She would never feel at her ease with Lady Bassett as long as she +lived. + +She was glad when they drove away at length, for she wanted to be +alone. Those anecdotes of Bobby's had affected her strangely. She had +felt so completely cut off of late from all things connected with the +past. No one ever mentioned Nick to her now--not even her faithful +correspondent Olga. Meteor-like, he had flashed through her sky and +disappeared; leaving a burning, ineradicable trail behind him, it is +true, but none the less was he gone. She had not the faintest idea +where he was. She would have given all she had to know, yet could not +bring herself to ask. It seemed highly improbable that he would ever +cross her path again, and she knew she ought to be glad of this; yet +no gladness ever warmed her heart. And now here was a man who had +known him, who had told her of exploits new to her knowledge yet how +strangely familiar to her understanding, who had at a touch brought +before her the weird personality that her imagination sometimes +strove in vain to summon. She could have sat and listened to Bobby's +reminiscences for hours. The bare mention of Nick's name had made her +blood run faster. + +Lady Bassett did not trouble her to converse during the drive back, +ascribing to her evident desire for silence a reason which Muriel was +too absent to suspect. But when the girl roused herself to throw a +couple of annas to an old beggar who was crouched against the entrance +to the Residency grounds she could not resist giving utterance to a +gentle expostulation. + +"I wish you would not encourage these people, dearest. They are so +extremely undesirable, and there is so much unrest in the State just +now that I cannot but regard them with anxiety." + +Muriel murmured an apology, with the inward reservation to bestow her +alms next time when Lady Bassett was not looking on. + +She found a letter lying on her table when she entered her room, +and took it up listlessly, without much interest. Her mind was +still running on those two anecdotes with which Bobby Fraser had so +successfully enlivened her boredom. The writing on the envelope was +vaguely familiar to her, but she did not associate it with anything +of importance. Absently she opened it, half reluctant to recall her +wandering thoughts. It came from a Hill station in Bengal, but that +told her nothing. She turned to the signature. + +The next instant she had turned back again to the beginning, and was +reading eagerly. Her correspondent was Will Musgrave. + + "Dear Miss Roscoe,"--ran the letter. "After long consideration + I have decided to write and beg of you a favour which I fancy + you will grant more readily than I venture to ask. My wife, as + you probably know, joined me some months ago. She is in very + indifferent health, and has expressed a most earnest wish to + see you. I believe there is something which she wishes to + tell you--something that weighs upon her heavily; and though + I trust that all will go well with her, I cannot help feeling + that she would stand a much better chance of this if only her + mind could be set at rest. I know I am asking a big thing + of you, for the journey is a ghastly one at this time of the + year, but if of your goodness you can bring yourself to face + it, I will myself meet you and escort you across the Plains. + Will you think the matter carefully over? And perhaps you + would wire a reply. + + "I have written without Daisy's knowledge, as she seems + to feel that she has forfeited the right to your + friendship.--Sincerely yours, + + "W. MUSGRAVE." + +Muriel's reply was despatched that evening, almost before she had +fully read the appeal. + +"Starting to-morrow," was all she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +THE HEALING OF THE BREACH + + +Lady Bassett considered the decision deplorably headlong, and said +so; but her remonstrances were of no avail. Muriel tossed aside her +listlessness as resolutely as the ball-dress that had been laid out +for the evening's festivity, and plunged at once into preparations for +her journey. She knew full well that it was of no actual importance +to Lady Bassett whether she went or stayed, and she did not pretend to +think otherwise. Moreover, no power on earth would have kept her away +from Daisy now that she knew herself to be wanted. + +Though more than half of the three days' journey lay across the +sweltering Plains, she contemplated it without anxiety, even with +rejoicing. At last, the breach, over which she had secretly mourned so +deeply, was to be healed. + +The next morning at an early hour she was upon her way. She looked +out as she drove through the gates for the old native beggar who had +crouched at the entrance on the previous afternoon. He was not there, +but a little way further she met him hobbling along to take up his +post for the day. From the folds of his chuddah his unkempt beard +wagged entreaty at the carriage as it passed. Impulsively, because of +the gladness that was so new to her lonely heart, she leaned from the +window and threw him a rupee. + +Looking back upon the journey later, she never remembered its tedium. +She was as one borne on the wings of love, and she scarcely noticed +the hardships of the way. + +Will Musgrave met her according to his promise at the great junction +in the Plains. She found him exceedingly solicitous for her welfare, +but so grave and silent that she hardly liked to question him. He +thanked her very earnestly for coming, said that Daisy was about the +same, and then left her almost exclusively to the society of her ayah. + +The heat in the Plains was terrific, but Muriel's courage never +wavered. She endured it with unfaltering resolution, hour after hour +reckoning the dwindling miles that lay before them, passing over +all personal discomfort as of no account, content only to be going +forward. + +But they left the Plains behind at last, and then came to the welcome +ascent to the Hill station through a country where pine-trees grew +ever more and more abundant. + +At length at the close of a splendid day they reached it, and as they +were nearing their destination Will broke through his silence. + +"She doesn't know even yet that you are coming," he said. "I thought +the suspense of waiting for you might be bad for her. Miss Roscoe--in +heaven's name--make her happy if you can!" + +There was such a passion of entreaty in his voice that Muriel was +deeply touched. She gave him her hand impulsively. + +"Mr. Musgrave," she said, "to this day I do not know what it was that +came between us, but I promise--I promise--that if any effort of mine +can remove it, it shall be removed to-night." + +Will Musgrave squeezed her fingers hard. "God bless you!" he said +earnestly. + +And with that he left her, and went on ahead to prepare Daisy for her +coming. + +All her life Muriel remembered Daisy's welcome of that evening with +a thrill of pain. They met at the gate of the little compound that +surrounded the bungalow Will had taken for his wife, and though the +light of the sinking sun smote with a certain ruddiness upon Daisy, +Muriel was unspeakably shocked by her appearance. + +Her white hair, her deathly pallor, the haunting misery of her +eyes--above all, her silence--went straight to the girl's heart. +Without a single word she gathered Daisy close in her warm young arms +and so held her in a long and speechless embrace. + +After all, it was Daisy who spoke first, gently drawing herself away. +"Come in, darling! You must be nearly dead after your awful journey. +I can't think how Will could ask it of you at this time of the year. I +couldn't myself." + +"I would have come to you from the world's end--and gladly," Muriel +answered, in her deep voice. "You know I would." + +And that was all that passed between them, for Will was present, and +Daisy had already begun to lead her guest into the house. + +As the evening wore on, Muriel was more and more struck by the great +change she saw in her. They had not met for ten months, but twice +as many years seemed to have passed over Daisy, crushing her beneath +their weight. All her old sprightliness had vanished utterly. She +spoke but little, and there was in her manner to her husband a wistful +humility, a submission so absolute, that Muriel, remembering her +ancient spirit, could have wept. + +Will looked at her as if he longed to say something when she bade him +good-night, but Daisy was beside her, and he could only give her a +tremendous handgrip. + +They went away together, and Daisy accompanied her to her room. But +the wall of reserve that had been built up between them was not to be +shattered at a touch. Neither of them knew exactly how to approach +it. There was no awkwardness between them, there was no lack of +tenderness, but the door that had closed so long ago was hard to +open. Daisy seemed to avoid it with a morbid dread, and it was not in +Muriel's power to make the first move. + +So for awhile they lingered together, talking commonplaces, and at +length parted for the night, holding each other closely, without +words. + +It seemed evident that Daisy could not bring herself to speak at +present, and Muriel went to bed with a heavy heart. + +She was far too weary to lie awake, but her tired brain would not +rest. For the first time in many dreary months she dreamed of Nick. + +He was jeering at her in devilish jubilation because she had changed +her mind about marrying him, but lacked the courage to tell him so. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX + +THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG + + +The night was very far advanced when Muriel was aroused from her +dreams by a sound which she drowsily fancied must have been going on +for some time. It did not disturb her very seriously at first; she +even subconsciously made an effort to ignore it. But at length a +sudden stab of understanding pierced her sleep-laden senses, and in a +moment she started up broad awake. Some one was in the room with her. +Through the dumb stillness before the dawn there came the sound of +bitter weeping. + +For a few seconds she sat motionless, startled, bewildered, half +afraid. The room was in nearly total darkness. Only in dimmest +outline could she discern the long French window that opened upon the +verandah. + +The weeping continued. It was half smothered, but it sounded agonised. +A great wave of compassion swept suddenly over Muriel. All in a moment +she understood. + +Swiftly she leaned forward into the darkness, feeling outwards till +her groping hands touched a figure that crouched beside the bed. + +"Daisy! Daisy, my darling!" she said, and there was anguish in her own +voice. "What is it?" + +In a second the sobbing ceased as if some magic had silenced it. +Two hands reached up out of the darkness and tightly clasped hers. A +broken voice whispered her name. + +"What is it?" Muriel repeated in growing distress. + +"Hush, dear, hush!" the trembling voice implored. "Don't let Will +hear! It worries him so." + +"But, my darling,--" Muriel protested. + +She began to feel for some matches, but again the nervous hands caught +and imprisoned hers. + +"Don't--please!" Daisy begged her earnestly. "I--I have something to +tell you--something that will shock you unutterably. And I--I don't +want you to see my face." + +She resisted Muriel's attempt to put her arms about her. "No--no, +dear! Hear me first. There! Let me kneel beside you. It will not +take me long. It isn't just for my own sake I am going to speak, +nor yet--entirely--for yours. You will see presently. Don't ask me +anything--please--till I have done. And then if--if there is anything +you want to know, I will try to tell you." + +"Come and lie beside me," Muriel urged. + +But Daisy would not. She had sunk very low beside the bed. For a while +she crouched there in silence while she summoned her strength. + +Then, "Oh, Muriel," she suddenly said, and the words seemed to burst +from her with a great sigh, "I wonder if you ever really loved Blake." + +"No, dear, I never did." Muriel's answer came quiet and sincere +through the darkness. "Nor did he love me. Our engagement was a +mistake. I was going to tell him so--if things had been different." + +"I never thought you cared for him," Daisy said. "But oh, Muriel, +I did. I loved him with my whole soul. No, don't start! It is over +now--at least that part of it that was sinful. I only tell you of +it because it is the key to everything that must have puzzled you +so horribly all this time. We always loved each other from the very +beginning, but our people wouldn't hear of it because we were cousins. +And so we separated and I used to think that I had put it away from +me. But--last summer--it all came back. You mustn't blame him, Muriel. +Blame me--blame me!" The thin hands tightened convulsively. "It was +when my baby died that I began to give way. We never meant it--either +of us--but we didn't fight hard enough. And then at last--at +Brethaven--Nick found it out; and it was because he knew that Blake's +heart was not in his compact with you that he made him write to you +and break it off. It was not for his own ends at all that he did it. +It was for your sake alone. He even swore to Blake that if he would +put an end to his engagement, he on his part would give up all idea +of winning you and would never trouble you any more. And that was the +finest thing he ever did, Muriel, for he never loved any one but you. +Surely you know it. You must know it by this time. You have never +understood him, but you must have begun to realise that he has loved +you well enough to set your happiness and well-being always far, far +before his own." + +Daisy paused. Her weeping had wholly ceased, but she was shivering +from head to foot. + +Muriel sat in silence above her, watching wide-eyed, unseeing, +the vague hint of light at the open window. She was beginning to +understand many things--ah, many things--that had been as a sealed +book to her till then. + +After a time Daisy went on. "No one will ever know what Nick was to me +at that time, how he showed me the wickedness of it all, how he held +me back from taking the final step, making me realise--even against +my will--that Love--true Love--is holy, conquering all evil. And +afterwards--afterwards--when Blake was gone--he stood by me and helped +me to live, and brought me back at last to my husband. I could never +have done it alone. I hadn't the strength. You see"--the low voice +faltered suddenly--"I never expected Will to forgive me. I never asked +it of him--any more than I am asking it of you." + +"Oh, my darling, there is no need!" Muriel turned suddenly to throw +impetuous arms about the huddled figure at her side. "Daisy! Daisy! I +love you. Let us forget there has ever been this thing between us. Let +us be as we used to be, and never drift apart again." + +Tenderly but insistently, she lifted Daisy to the bed beside her, +holding her fast. The wall between them was broken down at last. They +clung together as sisters long parted. + +Daisy, spent by the violence of her emotion, lay for a long time in +Muriel's arms without attempting anything further. But at length with +a palpable effort she began to speak of other things. + +"You know, I have a feeling--perhaps it is morbid--that I am not going +to live. I am sure Will thinks so too. If I die, Muriel,--three months +from now--you and Nick must help him all you can." + +"You are not going to die," Muriel asserted vehemently. "You are not +to talk of dying, or think of it. Oh, Daisy, can't you look forward to +the better time that is coming--when you will have something to live +for? And won't you try to think more of Will? It would break his heart +to lose you." + +"I do think of him," Daisy said wearily. "I would do anything to make +him happier. But I can't look forward. I am so tired--so tired." + +"You will feel differently by-and-by," Muriel whispered. + +"Perhaps," she assented. "I don't know. I don't feel as if I shall +ever hold another child in my arms. God knows I don't deserve it." + +"Do you think He looks at it in that way?" murmured Muriel, her arms +tightening. "There wouldn't be much in life for any of us if He did." + +"I don't know," Daisy said again. + +She lay quiet for a little as though pondering something. Then at +length hesitatingly she spoke. "Muriel, there is one thing that +whether I live or whether I die I want with my whole heart. May I tell +you what it is?" + +"Of course, dear. What is it?" + +Daisy turned in her arms, holding her in a clasp that was passionate. +"My darling," she whispered very earnestly, "I would give all I have +in the world to know you happy with--with the man you love." + +Silence followed the words. Muriel had become suddenly quite still; +her head was bent. + +"Don't--don't bar me out of your confidence," Daisy implored +her tremulously. "There is so little left for me to do now. +Muriel--dearest--you do love him?" + +Muriel moved impulsively, hiding her face in her friend's neck. But +she said no word in answer. + +Daisy went on softly, as though she had spoken. "He is still waiting +for you. I think he will wait all his life, though he will never come +to you again unless you call him. Won't you--can't you--send him just +one little word?" + +"How can I?" The words broke suddenly from Muriel as though she could +no longer restrain them. "How can I possibly?" + +"It could be done," Daisy said. "I know he is still somewhere in India +though he has left the Army. We could get a message to him at any +time." + +"Oh, but I couldn't--I couldn't!" Muriel had begun to tremble +violently. There was a sound of tears in her deep voice. "Besides--he +wouldn't come." + +"My dear, he would," Daisy assured her. "He would come to you directly +if he only knew that you wanted him. Muriel, surely you are not--not +too proud to let him know!" + +"Proud! Oh, no, no!" There was almost a moan in the words. Muriel's +head sank a little lower. "Heaven knows I'm not proud," she said. +"I am ashamed--miserably ashamed. I have trampled on his love so +often--so often. How could I ask him for it--now?" + +"Ah, but if he came to you," Daisy persisted, "if in spite of all he +came to you, you wouldn't send him away?" + +"Send him away!" A sudden note of passion thrilled in Muriel's voice. +She lifted her head sharply. With the tears upon her cheeks she yet +spoke with a certain exultation. "I--I would follow him barefoot +across the world," she said, "if--if he would only lift one finger +to call me. But oh, Daisy,"--her confidence vanished at a +breath--"where's the use of talking? He never, never will." + +"He will if you let him know," Daisy answered with conviction. "Don't +you think you can, dear? Give me just one word for him--one tiny +message that he will understand. Only trust him this once--just this +once! Give him his opportunity--he has never had one before, poor +boy--and I know, I know, he will not throw it away." + +"You don't think he will--laugh?" Muriel whispered. + +"My dear child, no! Nick doesn't laugh at sacred things." + +Muriel's face was burning in the darkness. She covered it with her +hands as though it could be seen. + +For a few seconds she sat very still. Then slowly but steadily she +spoke. + +"Tell him then, Daisy, from me, that 'Love conquers all things--and we +must yield to Love.'" + + + + +CHAPTER L + +EREBUS + + +Not another word passed between Daisy and Muriel upon the subject of +that night's confidences. There seemed nothing further to be said. +Moreover, there was between them a closer understanding than words +could compass. + +The days that followed passed very peacefully, and Daisy began to +improve so marvellously in health and spirits that both her +husband and her guest caught at times fleeting glimpses of the old +light-hearted personality that they had loved in earlier days. + +"You have done wonders for my wife," Will said one day to Muriel. And +though she disclaimed all credit, she could not fail to see a very +marked improvement. + +She herself was feeling unaccountably happy in those days, as though +somewhere deep down in her heart a bird had begun to sing. Again and +again she told herself that she had no cause for gladness; but again +and yet again that sweet, elusive music filled her soul. + +She would have gladly stayed on with Daisy, seeing how the latter +clung to her, for an indefinite period; but this was not to be. + +Daisy came out on to the verandah one morning with a letter in her +hand. + +"My dear," she said, "I regret to say that, I must part with you. +I have had a most touching epistle from Lady Bassett, describing at +length your many wasted opportunities, and urging me to return you to +the fold with all speed. It seems there is to be a State Ball at the +palace--an immense affair to which the Rajah is inviting all the big +guns for miles around--and Lady Bassett thinks that her dear child +ought not to miss such a gorgeous occasion. She seems to think that +something of importance depends upon it, and hints that I should be +almost criminally selfish to deprive you of such a treat as this will +be." + +Muriel lifted a flushed face from a letter of her own. "I have heard +from Sir Reginald," she said. "Evidently she has made him write. I +can't think why, for she never wants me when I am with her. I don't +see why I should go, do you? After all, I am of age and independent." + +A very tender smile touched Daisy's lips. "I think you had better go, +darling," she said. + +Muriel opened her eyes wide. "But why--" + +Daisy checked the question half uttered. "I think it will be better +for you. I never meant to let you stay till the rains, so it makes +little more than a week's difference. It sounds as if I want to be +rid of you, doesn't it? But you know it isn't that. I shall miss you +horribly, but you have done what you came to do, and I shall get on +all right now. So I am not going to keep you with me any longer. My +reasons are not Lady Bassett's reasons, but all the same it would be +selfish of me to let you stay. Later on perhaps--in the winter--you +will come and make a long stay; spend Christmas with us, and we will +have some real fun, shall we, Will?" turning to her husband who had +just appeared. + +He stared for an instant as if he thought he had not heard aright, and +there was to Muriel something infinitely pathetic in the way his brown +hand touched his wife's shoulder as he passed her and made reply. + +"Oh, rather!" he said. "We'll have a regular jollification with as +many old friends as we can collect. Don't forget, Miss Roscoe! You are +booked first and foremost, and we shall keep you to it, Daisy and I." + +Two days later Muriel was on her way back to Ghawalkhand. She found +the heat of the journey almost insupportable. The Plains lay under a +burning pall of cloud, and at night the rolling thunder was incessant. +But no rain fell to ease the smothering oppression of the atmosphere. + +She almost fainted one evening, but Will was with her and she never +forgot his kindly ministrations. + +A few hours' journey from Ghawalkhand Sir Reginald himself met her, +and here she parted with Will with renewed promises of a future +meeting towards the end of the year. + +Sir Reginald fussed over her kind-heartedly, hoped she had enjoyed +herself, thought she looked very thin, and declared that his wife was +looking forward with much pleasure to her return. The State was +still somewhat unsettled, there had been one or two outrages of late, +nothing serious, of course, but the native element was restless, and +he fancied Lady Bassett was nervous. + +She was away at a polo-match when they arrived, and Muriel profited by +her absence and went straight to bed. + +She could have slept for hours had she been permitted to do so, but +Lady Bassett, returning, awoke her to receive her welcome. She was +charmed to have her back, she declared, though shocked to see her +looking so wan, "so almost plain, dear child, if one may take the +liberty of an old friend to tell you so." + +Neither the crooked smile that accompanied this gentle criticism +nor the decidedly grim laugh with which it was received, was of a +particularly friendly nature; but these facts were not extraordinary. +There had never been the smallest hint of sympathy between them. + +"I trust you will be looking much better than this two nights hence," +Lady Bassett proceeded in her soft accents. "The Rajah's ball is to +be very magnificent, quite dazzlingly so from all accounts. Mr. +Bobby Fraser is of course behind the scenes, and he tells me that the +preparations in progress are simply gigantic. By the way, dear, it is +to be hoped that your absence has not damaged your prospects in +that quarter. I have been afraid lately that he was transferring his +allegiance to the second Egerton girl. I hope earnestly that there is +nothing in it, for you know how I have your happiness at heart, do you +not? And it would be such an excellent thing for you, dear child, as +I expect you realise. For you know, you look so much older than +you actually are that you really ought not to throw away any more +opportunities. Every girl thinks she must have her fling, but you, +dear, should soberly think of getting settled soon. You would not like +to get left, I feel sure." + +At this point Muriel sat up suddenly, her dark eyes very bright, and +in brief tones announced that so far as she was concerned the second +Egerton girl was more than welcome to Mr. Fraser and she hoped, if she +wanted him, she would manage to keep him. + +It was crudely expressed, as Lady Bassett pointed out with a sigh for +her waywardness; but Muriel always was crude when her deeper feelings +were disturbed, and physical fatigue had made her irritable. + +She wished ardently that Lady Bassett would leave her, but Lady +Bassett had not quite done. She lingered to ask for news of poor +little Daisy Musgrave. Had she yet fully recovered from the shock of +her cousin's tragic death? Could she bear to speak of him? She, +Lady Bassett, had always suspected the existence of an unfortunate +attachment between them. + +Muriel had no information to bestow upon the subject. She hoped and +believed that Daisy was getting stronger, and had promised, all being +well, to spend Christmas with her. + +Lady Bassett shook her head over this declaration. The dear child +was so headlong. Much might happen before Christmas. And what of +Mr. Ratcliffe--this was on her way to the door--had she heard the +extraordinary, the really astounding news concerning him that had just +reached Lady Bassett's ears? She asked because he and Mrs. Musgrave +used to be such friends, though to be sure Mr. Ratcliffe seemed to +have thrown off all his old friends of late. Had Muriel actually not +heard? + +"Heard! Heard what?" Muriel forced out the question from between +lips that were white and stiff. She was suddenly afraid--horribly, +unspeakably afraid. But she kept her eyes unflinchingly upon Lady +Bassett's face. She would sooner die than quail in her presence. + +Lady Bassett, holding the door-handle, looked back at her, faintly +smiling. "I wonder you have not heard, dear. I thought you were in +correspondence with his people. But perhaps they also are in the dark. +It is a most unheard-of thing--quite irrevocable I am told. But I +always felt that he was a man to do unusual things. There was always +to my mind something uncanny, abnormal, something almost superhuman, +about him." + +"But what has happened to him?" Muriel did not know how she uttered +the words; they seemed to come without her own volition. She was +conscious of a choking sensation within her as though iron bands +were tightening about her heart. It beat in leaps and bounds like a +tortured thing striving to escape. But through it all she sat quite +motionless, her eyes fixed upon Lady Bassett's face, noting its faint, +wry smile, as the eyes of a prisoner on the rack might note the grim +lines on the face of the torturer. + +"My dear," Lady Bassett said, "he has gone into a Buddhist monastery +in Tibet." + +Calmly the words fell through smiling lips. Only words! Only words! +But with how deadly a thrust they pierced the heart of the woman +who heard them none but herself would ever know. She gave no sign of +suffering. She only stared wide-eyed before her as an image, devoid of +expression, inanimate, sphinx-like, while that awful constriction grew +straiter round her heart. + +Lady Bassett was already turning to go when the deep voice arrested +her. + +"Who told you this?" + +She looked back, holding the open door. "I scarcely know who first +mentioned it. I have heard it from so many people,--in fact the news +is general property--Captain Gresham of the Guides told me for one. He +has just gone back to Peshawur. The news reached him, I believe, from +there. Then there was Colonel Cathcart for another. He was talking of +it only this afternoon at the Club, saying what a deplorable example +it was for an Englishman to set. He and Mr. Bobby Fraser had quite a +hot argument about it. Mr. Fraser has such advanced ideas, but I must +admit that I rather admire the staunch way in which he defends them. +There, dear child! You must not keep me gossiping any longer. You look +positively haggard. I earnestly hope a good sleep will restore you, +for I cannot possibly take that wan face to the Rajah's ball'." + +Lady Bassett departed with the words, shaking her head tolerantly and +still smiling. + +But for long after she had gone, Muriel remained with fixed eyes and +tense muscles, watching, watching, dumbly, immovably, despairingly, at +the locked door of her paradise. + +So this was the key to his silence--the reason that her message had +gone unanswered. She had stretched out her hands to him too late--too +late. + +And ever through the barren desert of her vigil a man's voice, vital +and passionate, rang and echoed in a maddening, perpetual refrain. + +"All your life you will remember that I was once yours to take or to +throw away. And--you wanted me, yet--you chose to throw me away." + +It was a refrain she had heard often and often before; but it had +never tortured her as it tortured her now,--now when her last hope was +finally quenched--now when at last she fully realised what it was that +had once been hers, and that in her tragic blindness she had wantonly +cast away. + + + + +CHAPTER LI + +THE BIRD OF PARADISE + + +Muriel did not leave the Residency again until the evening of the +State Ball at the palace. Scarcely did she leave her room, pleading +intense fatigue as her excuse for this seclusion. But she could not +without exciting remark, absent herself from the great function for +which ostensibly she had returned to Ghawalkhand. + +She wore a dress of unrelieved white for the occasion, for she had +but recently discarded her mourning for her father, and her face was +almost as devoid of colour. Her dark hair lay in a shadowy mass above +her forehead, accentuating her pallor. Her eyes looked out upon the +world with tragic indifference, unexpectant, apathetic. + +"My dear, you don't look well," said Sir Reginald, as, gorgeous in +his glittering uniform, he stood to hand her after his wife into the +carriage. + +She smiled a little. "It is nothing. I am still rather tired, that's +all." + +Driving through the gates she looked forth absently and spied the old +beggar crouching in his accustomed place. He almost prostrated himself +at sight of her, but she had no money with her, nor could she have +bestowed any under Lady Bassett's disapproving eye. The carriage +rolled on, leaving his obsequiousness unrequited. + +Entering the glittering ballroom all hung with glowing colours was +like entering a garden of splendid flowers. European and Indian +costumes were mingled in shining confusion. A hubbub of music and +laughter seemed to engulf them like a rushing torrent. + +"Ah, here you are at last!" It was Bobby Fraser's voice at Muriel's +side. He looked at her with cheery approval. "I say, you know, you're +the queen of this gathering. Pity there isn't a king anywhere about. +Perhaps there is, eh? Well, can you give me a dance? Afraid I haven't +a waltz left. No matter! We can sit out. I know a cosy corner exactly +fitted to my tastes. In fact I've booked it for the evening. And I +want a talk with you badly. Number five then. Good-bye!" + +He was gone, leaving Muriel with the curious impression that there +really was something of importance that he wished to say to her. + +She wondered what it was. That he was paying her serious attention she +had never for a moment believed, nor had she given him the faintest +encouragement to do so. She knew that Lady Bassett thought otherwise, +but she had never rated her opinion very highly; and she had never +read anything but the most casual friendliness in Bobby's attitude. + +Still it disturbed her somewhat, that hint of intimacy that his words +portended, and she awaited the dance he had solicited in a state of +mind very nearly allied to apprehension. Lady Bassett's suggestions +had done for her what no self-consciousness would ever have +accomplished unaided. They had implanted within her a deep-rooted +misgiving before which all ease of manner fled. + +When Bobby Fraser joined her, she was so plainly nervous that he could +not fail to remark it. He led her to a quiet corner above the garden +that was sheltered from the throng by flowering tamarisks. + +"I say," he said, "I hope you are not letting yourself get scared +by these infernal budmashes. The reports have all been immensely +exaggerated as usual." + +"I am not at all scared," she told him. "But wasn't there an +Englishman murdered the other day?" + +"Oh, yes," he admitted, "but miles and miles away, right the other +side of the State. There was nothing in that to alarm any one here. +It might have happened anywhere. People are such fools," he threw in +vindictively. "Begin to look askance at the native population, and +of course they are on the _qui vive_ instantly. It is only to be +expected. It was downright madness to send a Resident here. They +resent it, you know. But the Rajah's influence is enormous. Nothing +could happen here." + +"I wonder," said Muriel. + +She had scarcely given the matter a thought before, but it was a +relief to find some impersonal topic for discussion. + +Bobby, however, had no intention of pursuing it further. "Oh, it's +self-evident," he said. "They are loyal to the Rajah, and the Rajah +is well-known to be loyal to the Crown. It's only these duffers of +administrators that make the mischief." He broke into an abrupt laugh, +and changed the subject. "Let us talk of something less exasperating. +How did you get on while you were away? You must have found the +journey across the Plains pretty ghastly." + +She told him a little about it, incidentally mentioning Will Musgrave. + +"Oh, I know him," he broke in. "An engineer, isn't he? Awfully clever +chap. I met him years ago at Sharapura the time Nick Ratcliffe won the +Great Mogul's Cup. I told you that story, didn't I?" + +Yes, he had done so. She informed him of the fact with an immovable +face. It might have been a subject of total indifference to her. + +"You know Nick Ratcliffe, don't you?" he pursued, evidently following +his own train of thought. + +She flushed at the direct question. She had not expected it. "It is +a very long time since I last saw him," she said, with a deliberate +effort to banish all interest from her voice. + +He was not looking at her. He could not have been aware of the flush. +Yet he elected to push the matter further. + +"A queer fish," he said. "A very queer fish. He has lost his left arm, +poor beggar. Did you know?" + +Yes, she knew; but she could hardly summon the strength to tell him +so. Her fan concealed her quivering lips, but the hand that held it +shook uncontrollably. + +But he, still casual, continued his desultory harangue. "Always +reminds one of a jack-in-the-box--that fellow. Has a knack of popping +up when you least expect him. You never know what he will do next. You +can only judge him by the things he doesn't do. For instance, there's +been a rumour floating about lately that he has just gone into a +Tibetan monastery. Heaven knows who started it and why. But it is +absolutely untrue. It is the sort of thing that couldn't be true of a +man of his temperament. Don't you agree with me? Or perhaps you didn't +know him very well, and don't feel qualified to judge." + +At this point he pulled out his programme and studied it frowningly. +He was plainly not paying much attention to her reply. He seemed to be +contemplating something that worried him. + +It made it all the easier for her to answer. "No," she said slowly. "I +didn't know him very well. But--that rumour was told to me as absolute +fact. I--of course--I believed it." + +She knew that her face was burning as she ended. She could feel the +blood surging through every vein. + +"If you want to know what I think," said Bobby Fraser deliberately, +"it is that that rumour was a malicious invention of some one's." + +"Oh, do you?" she said. "But--but why?" + +He turned and looked at her. His usually merry face was stern. +"Because," he said, "it served some one's end to make some one else +believe that Nick had dropped out for good." + +Her eyes fell under his direct look. "I don't understand," she +murmured desperately. + +"Nor do I," he rejoined, "for certain. I can only surmise. It doesn't +do to believe things too readily. One gets let in that way." He rose +and offered her his arm. "Come outside for a little. This place is too +warm for comfort." + +She went with him willingly, thankful to turn her face to the night. A +dozen questions hovered on her lips, but she could not ask him one +of them. She could only walk beside him and profess to listen to +the stream of anecdotes which he began to pour forth for her +entertainment. + +She did not actually hear one of them. They came to her all jumbled +and confused through such a torrent of gladness as surely she had +never known before. For the bird in her heart had lifted its head +again, and was singing its rapture to the stars. + + + + +CHAPTER LII + +A WOMAN'S OFFERING + + +Looking back upon the hours that followed that talk with Bobby behind +the tamarisks, Muriel could never recall in detail how they passed. +She moved in a whirl, all her pulses racing, all her senses on the +alert. None of her partners had ever seen her gay before, but she was +gay that night with a spontaneous and wonderful gaiety that came from +the very heart of her. It was not a gaiety that manifested itself in +words, but it was none the less apparent to those about her. For her +eyes shone as though they looked into a radiant future, and she danced +as one inspired. She was like a statue waked to splendid life. + +Swiftly the hours flew by. She scarcely noted their passage, any more +than she noted the careless talk and laughter that hummed around her. +She moved in an atmosphere of her own to a melody that none other +heard. + +The ball was wearing to a close when at length Lady Bassett summoned +her to return. Lady Bassett was wearing her most gracious smile. + +"You have been much admired to-night, dear child," she murmured to the +girl, as they passed into the cloakroom. + +Muriel's eyes looked disdainful for an instant, but they could not +remain so. As swiftly the happiness flashed back into them. + +"I have enjoyed myself," she said simply. + +She threw a gauzy scarf about her neck, and turned to go. She did not +want her evening spoilt by criticisms however honeyed. + +The great marble entrance was crowded with departing guests. She edged +her way to one of the pillars at the head of the long flight of steps, +watching party after party descend to the waiting carriages. The +dancing had not yet ceased, and strains of waltz-music came to her +where she stood, fitful, alluring, plaintive. They were playing "The +Blue Danube." + +She listened to it as one in a dream, and while she listened the tears +gathered in her eyes. How was it she had been so slow to understand? +Would she ever make it up to him? She wondered how long he meant to +keep her in suspense. It was not like him to linger thus if he had +indeed received her message. She hoped he would come soon. The waiting +was hard to bear. + +She called to mind once more the last words he had spoken to her. +He had said that he would not swoop a second time, but she could +not imagine him doing anything else. He would be sudden, he would be +disconcerting, he would be overwhelming. He would come on winged feet +in answer to her call, but he would give her no quarter. He would +neither ask nor demand. He would simply take. + +She caught her breath and hastened to divert her thought, +realising that she was on the verge of the old torturing process of +self-intimidation which had so often before unnerved her. + +The throng about her had lessened considerably. Glancing downwards, +she discerned at the foot of the steps the old beggar who so +persistently haunted the Residency gates, incurring thereby Lady +Bassett's alarmed displeasure. He was crouching well to one side in +the familiar attitude of supplication. There were dozens like him in +Ghawalkhand, but she knew him by the peculiar, gibbering movement of +the wiry beard that protruded from his chuddah. He was repulsive, but +in a fashion fascinating. He made her think of a wizened old monkey +who had wandered from his kind. + +She had come to regard him almost in the light of a protege, and, +remembering suddenly that he had besought an alms of her in vain some +hours before, she turned impulsively to a man she knew who had just +come up. + +"Colonel Cathcart, will you lend me a rupee?" + +He dived in his pocket and brought out a handful of money. She found +the coin she wanted, thanked him with a smile, and began to descend +the steps. + +The old native was not looking at her. Something else seemed to have +caught his attention. For the moment he had ceased to cringe and +implore. + +She heard Sir Reginald's voice above her. He was standing in talk with +the Rajah while he waited for his wife. + +And then--she was half-way down the steps when it happened--a sudden +loud cry rang fiercely up to her, arresting her where she stood--a +man's voice inarticulate at first, bursting from mere sound into +furious headlong denunciation. + +"You infernal hound!" it cried. "You damned assassin!" + +At the same instant the old beggar at the foot of the palace steps +sprang panther-like from his crouching position to hurl himself bodily +at something that skulked in the shadows beyond him. + +The marvellous agility of the action, the unerring precision with +which he pounced upon his prey, above all, the voice that had yelled +in execration, sent such a stab of amazed recognition through Muriel +that she stood for a second as one petrified. + +But the next instant all her senses were pricked into alertness by a +revolver-shot. Another came, and yet another. They were fighting below +like tigers--two men in native dress, swaying, straining, struggling, +not three yards from where she stood. + +She never fully remembered afterwards how she came to realise that +Nick--Nick himself--was there before her in the flesh, fighting like +a demon, fighting as she had seen him fight once long ago when every +nerve in her body had been strung to agonised repulsion. + +She felt no repulsion now--no shrinking of any sort, only a wild +anguish of fear for his sake that drove her like a mad creature down +the intervening steps, that sent her flashing between him and his +adversary, that inspired her to wrench away the smoking revolver from +the murderous hand that gripped it. + +She went through those awful moments as a woman possessed, blindly +obeying the compelling force, goaded by sheer, primaeval instinct to +protect her own. It was but a conflict of seconds, but while it lasted +she was untrammelled by any doubts or hesitations. She was sublimely +sure of herself. She was superbly unafraid. + +When it was over, when men crowded round and dragged her enemy back, +when the pressing need was past, her courage fell from her like a +mantle. She sank down upon the steps, a trembling, hysterical woman, +and began to cry. + +Some one bent over her, some one whispered soothing words, some one +drew the revolver out of her weak grasp. Looking up, she saw the old +native beggar upon whom she had thought to bestow her charity. + +"Oh, Nick!" she gasped. "Nick!" And there stopped in sudden misgiving. +Was this grotesque figure indeed Nick? Could it be--this man who had +sat at the Residency gates for weeks, this man to whom she had so +often tossed an alms? + +Her brain had begun to reel, but she clung to the central idea, as one +in deep waters clinging to a spar. + +"Speak to me!" she entreated. "Only speak to me!" + +But before he could answer, Bobby Fraser pushed suddenly forward, +bent over, lifted her. "You are not hurt, Miss Roscoe?" he questioned +anxiously, deep concern on his kindly face. "The damned swine didn't +touch you? There! Come back into the palace. You're the bravest girl I +ever met." + +He began to help her up the steps, but though she was spent and near +to fainting she resisted him. + +"That man--" she faltered. "Don't--don't let him go!" + +"Certainly not," said Bobby promptly. "Here, you old scarecrow, come +and lend a hand!" + +But the old scarecrow apparently had other plans for himself, for he +had already vanished from the scene as swiftly and noiselessly as a +shadow from a sheet. + +"He is gone!" wailed Muriel. "He is gone! Oh, why did you let him go?" + +"He'll turn up again," said Bobby consolingly. "That sort of chap +always does. I say, how ghastly you look! Take my arm! You are not +going to faint, are you? Ah, here is Colonel Cathcart! Miss Roscoe +isn't hurt, sir--only upset. Can't we get her back to the palace?" + +They bore her back between them, and left her to be tended by the +women. She was not unconscious, but the shock had utterly unstrung +her. She lay with closed eyes, listening vaguely to the buzz of +excited comment about her, and wondering, wondering with an aching +heart, why he had gone. + +No one seemed to know exactly what had taken place, and she was too +exhausted to tell. Possibly she would hot have told in any case. It +was known only that an attempt had been made upon the life of the +British Resident, Sir Reginald Bassett, and it was surmised that +Muriel had realised the murderous intention in time to frustrate it. +Certainly a native had tried to help her, but since the native had +disappeared, his share in the conflict was not regarded as very great. +As a matter of fact, the light had been too uncertain and the struggle +too confused for even the eye-witnesses to know with any certainty +what had taken place. Theories and speculations were many and various, +but not one of them went near to the truth. + +"Dear Muriel will tell us presently just how it happened," Lady +Bassett said in her soft voice. + +But Muriel was as one who heard not. She would not even open her eyes +till Sir Reginald came to her, pillowed her head against him, kissed +her white face, and called her his brave little girl. + +That moved her at last, awaking in her the old piteous hunger, +never wholly stifled, for her father. She turned and clung to him +convulsively with an inarticulate murmuring that ended in passionate +tears. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII + +THE LAST SKIRMISH + + +Why had he gone? That was the question that vexed Muriel's soul +through the long hours that followed her return to the Residency. +Lying sleepless on her bed, she racked her weary brain for an answer +to the riddle, but found none. Her brief doubt regarding him had long +since fled. She knew with absolute certainty that it was Nick and +no other who had yelled those furious words, who had made that +panther-spring, who had leaned over her and withdrawn the revolver +from her hold, telling her softly not to cry. But why had he gone just +then when she needed him most? + +Surely by now her message had reached him! Surely he knew that she +wanted him, that she had lowered what he had termed her miserable +little rag of pride to tell him so! Then why was he tormenting her +thus--playing with her as a cat might play with a mouse? Was he taking +his revenge for all the bitter scorn she had flung at him in the past? +Did he think to wring from her some more definite appeal? Ah, that was +it! Like a searchlight flashing inwards, she remembered her promise +to him uttered long ago against her will--his answering oath. And she +knew that he meant to hold her to that promise--that he would exact +the very uttermost sacrifice that it entailed; and then perchance--she +shivered at the unendurable thought--he would laugh his baffling, +enigmatical laugh, and go his way. + +But this was unbearable, impossible. She would sooner die than suffer +it. She would sooner--yes, she would almost sooner--break her promise. + +And then, to save her from distraction, the other side of the picture +presented itself, that reverse side which he had once tauntingly +advised her to study. If he truly loved her, he would not treat her +thus. It would not gratify him to see her in the dust. If he still +cared, as Daisy had assured her he did, it would not be his pleasure +to make her suffer. But then again--oh, torturing question!--had that +been so, would he have gone at that critical moment, would he have +left her, when a look, a touch, would have sufficed to establish +complete understanding? + +Drearily the hours dragged away. The heat was great, and just before +daybreak a thunder-storm rolled up, but spent itself without a drop of +rain. It put the finishing touches to Muriel's restlessness. She rose +and dressed, to sit by her window with her torturing thoughts for +company, and awaited the day. + +With the passing of the storm a slight draught that was like a shudder +moved the scorched leaves of the acacias in the compound, quivered a +little, and ceased. Then came the dawn, revealing mass upon mass of +piled cloud hanging low over the earth. The breaking of the monsoon +was drawing very near. There could be no lifting of the atmosphere, no +relief, until it came. + +She leaned her aching head against the window-frame in a maze of +weariness unutterable. Her heart was too heavy for prayer. + +Minutes passed. The daylight grew and swiftly overspread all things. +The leaden silence began to be pierced here and there by the barking +of a dog, the crowing of a cock, the scolding of a parrot. Somewhere, +either in the compound or close to it, some one began to whistle--a +soft, tentative whistle, like a young blackbird trying its notes. + +Muriel remained motionless, scarcely heeding while it wove itself into +the background of her thoughts. She was in fact hardly aware of it, +till suddenly, with a great thrill of astonishment that shook her +from head to foot, a wild suspicion seized her, and she started up, +listening intently. The fitful notes were resolving into a melody--a +waltz she knew, alluring, enchanting, compelling--the waltz that had +filled in the dreadful silences on that night long ago when she had +fought so desperately hard for her freedom and had prevailed at last. +But stay! Had she prevailed? Had she not rather been a captive in +spite of it all ever since? + +On and on went the haunting waltz-refrain, now near, now far, now +summoning, now eluding. She stood gripping the curtain till she +could bear it no longer, and then with a great sob she mustered her +resolution; she stepped out upon the verandah, and passed down between +shrivelled trailing roses to the garden below. + +The tune ceased quite suddenly, and she found herself moving through +a silence that could be felt. But she would not turn back then. She +would not let herself be discouraged. She had been frightened so often +when there had been no need for fear. + +On she pressed to the end of the path till she stood by the high +fence that bordered the road. She could see no one. The garden lay +absolutely deserted. She paused, hesitating, bewildered. + +At the same instant from the other side of the fence, almost as if +rising from the ground at her feet, a careless voice began to hum--a +cracked, tuneless, unmistakable voice, that sent the blood to her +heart with a force that nearly suffocated her. + +"Nick!" she said, almost in a whisper. + +He did not hear her evidently. His humming continued with unabated +liveliness. + +"Nick!" she said again. + +Still no result. There was nothing in the least dramatic in the +situation. It might almost have been described as ludicrous, but the +white-faced woman in the compound did not find it so. + +She waited till he had come to a suitable stopping place, and then, +before he could renew the melody, she rapped with nervous force upon +the fence. + +There fell a most unexpected silence. + +She broke it with words imploring, almost agonised. "Nick! Nick! Come +and speak to me--for Heaven's sake!" + +His flippant voice greeted her at once in a tone of cheerful inquiry. +"That you, Muriel?" + +Her agitation began to subside of itself. Nothing could have been more +casual than his question. "Yes," she said in reply. "Why are you out +there? Why don't you come in?" + +"My dear girl,--at this hour!" There was shocked reproof in the +ejaculation. Nick was evidently scandalised at the suggestion. + +Muriel lost her patience forthwith. Was it for this that she had spent +all those miserable hours of fruitless heart-searching? His trifling +was worse than ridiculous. It was insufferable. + +"You are to come in at once," she said, in a tone of authority. + +"What for?" said Nick. + +"Because--because--" She hesitated, and stopped, her face burning. + +"Because--" said Nick encouragingly. + +"Oh, don't be absurd!" she exclaimed in desperation. "How can I +possibly talk to you there?" + +"It depends upon what you want to say," said Nick. "If it is something +particularly private--" He paused. + +"Well?" she said. + +"You can always come to me, you know," he pointed out. "But I +shouldn't do that, if I were you. It would be neither dignified nor +proper. And a girl in your position, dearest Muriel, cannot be too +discreet. It is the greatest mistake in the world to act upon impulse. +Let me entreat you to do nothing headlong. Take another year or so to +think things over. There are so many nice men to choose from, and this +absurd infatuation of yours cannot possibly last." + +"Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice held a curious mixture of mirth and +sadness. "It--it isn't a bit funny to talk like that. It isn't even +particularly kind." + +"Ye gods!" said Nick. "Who wants to be kind?" + +"Not you, evidently," she told him with a hint of bitterness. "You +only aim at being intelligent." + +"Well, you'll admit I hit the mark sometimes," he rejoined. "I'm like +a rat, eh? Clever but loathsome." + +She uttered a quivering laugh. "No, you are much more like an eagle, +waiting to strike. Why don't you, I wonder, and--and take what you +want?" + +Nick's answering laugh had a mocking note in it. "Oh, I can play +Animal Grab as well as anybody--better than most," he said modestly. +"But I don't chance to regard this as a suitable occasion for +displaying my skill. Uninteresting for you, of course, but then you +are fond of running away when there is no one after you. It's been +your favourite pastime for almost as long as I have known you." + +The sudden silence with which this airy remark was received had in +it something tragic. Muriel had sunk down on a garden-bench close at +hand, lacking the strength to go away. It was exactly what she had +expected. He meant to take his revenge in his own peculiar fashion. +She had laid herself open to this, and mercilessly, unerringly, he had +availed himself of the opportunity to wound. She might have known! She +might have known! Had he not done it again and again? Oh, she had been +a fool--a fool--to call him back! + +Through the wild hurry of her thoughts his voice pierced once more. It +had an odd inflection that was curiously like a note of concern. + +"I say, Muriel, are you crying?" + +"Crying!" She pulled herself together hastily. "No! Why should I?" + +"I can tell you why you shouldn't," he answered whimsically. "No one +ever ought to cry before breakfast. It's shocking for the appetite +and may ruin the complexion for the rest of the day. Besides,--you've +nothing to cry for." + +"Oh, don't be absurd!" she flung back again almost fiercely. "I'm not +crying!" + +"Quite sure?" said Nick. + +"Absolutely certain," she declared. + +"All right then," he rejoined. "That being so, you had better dry your +eyes very carefully, for I am coming to see for myself." + + + + +CHAPTER LIV + +SURRENDER + + +She awaited him still sitting on the bench and striving vainly to +quiet her thumping heart. She heard him come lightly up behind her, +but she did not turn her head though she had no tears to conceal. She +was possessed by an insane desire to spring up and flee. It took all +her resolution to remain where she was. + +And so Nick drew near unwelcomed--a lithe, alert figure in European +attire, bare-headed, eager-faced. He was smiling to himself as he +came, but when he reached her the smile was gone. + +He bent and looked into her white, downcast face; then laid his hand +upon her shoulder. + +"But Muriel--" he said. + +And that was all. Yet Muriel suddenly hid her face and wept. + +He did not attempt to restrain her. Perhaps he realised that tears +such as those must have their way. But the touch of his hand was in +some fashion soothing. It stilled the tempest within her, comforting +her inexplicably. + +She reached up at last, and drew it down between her own, holding it +fast. + +"I'm such a fool, Nick," she whispered shakily. "You--you must try to +bear with me." + +She felt his fingers close and gradually tighten upon her own until +their grip was actual pain. + +"Haven't I borne with you long enough?" he said. "Can't you come to +the point?" + +She shook her head slightly. Her trembling had not wholly ceased. She +was not--even yet she was not--wholly sure of him. + +"Afraid?" he questioned. + +And she answered him meekly, with bowed head. "Yes, Nick; afraid." + +"Don't you think you might look me in the face if you tried very +hard?" he suggested. + +"No, Nick." She almost shrank at the bare thought. + +"Oh, but you haven't tried," he said. + +His voice sounded very close. She knew he was bending down. She even +fancied she could feel his breath upon her neck. + +Her head sank a little lower. "Don't!" she whispered, with a sob. + +"What are you afraid of?" he said. "You weren't afraid to send me a +message. You weren't afraid to save my life last night. What is it +frightens you?" + +She could not tell him. Only her panic was very real. It shook her +from head to foot. A fierce struggle was going on within her,--the +last bitter conflict between her love and her fear. It tore her in all +directions. She felt as if it would drive her mad. But through it all +she still clung desperately to the bony hand that grasped her own. It +seemed to sustain her, to hold her up, through all her chaos of doubt, +of irresolution, of miserable, overmastering dread. + +"What is it frightens you?" he said again. "Why won't you look at me? +There is nothing whatever to make you afraid!" + +He spoke softly, as though he were addressing a scared child. But +still she was afraid, afraid of the very impulse that urged her, +horribly afraid of meeting the darting scrutiny of his eyes. + +He waited for a little in silence; then suddenly with a sharp sigh +he straightened himself. "You don't know your own mind yet," he said. +"And I can't help you to know it. I had better go." + +He would have withdrawn his hand with the words, but she held it fast. + +"No, Nick, no! It isn't that," she told him tremulously. "I know what +I want--perfectly well. But--but--I can't put it into words. I can't! +I can't!" + +"Is that it?" said Nick. His manner changed completely. He bent down +again. She heard the old note of banter in his voice, but mingled with +it was a tenderness so utter that she scarcely recognised it. "Then, +my dear girl, in Heaven's name, don't try! Words were not made for +such an occasion as this. They are clumsy tools at the best of times. +You can make me understand without words. I'm horribly intelligent, as +you remarked just now." + +Her heart leapt to the rapid assurance. Was it so difficult to tell +him after all? Surely she could find a way! + +The tumult of her emotions swelled to sudden uproar, thunderous, +all-possessing, overwhelming, so that she gasped and gasped again for +breath. And then all in a moment she knew that the conflict was over. +She was as a diver, hurling with headlong velocity from dizzy height +into deep waters, and she rejoiced--she exulted--in that mad rush into +depth. + +With a quivering laugh she moved. She loosened her convulsive clasp +upon his hand, turned it upwards, and stooping low, she pressed her +lips closely, passionately, lingeringly, upon his open palm. She had +found a way. + +He started sharply at her action; he almost winced. Then, "Muriel!" he +exclaimed in a voice that broke, and threw himself on his knees beside +her, holding her fast in a silence so sudden and so tense that she +also was awed into a great stillness. + +Yet, after a little, though his face was pressed against her so +that she could not see it or even vaguely guess his mood, she found +strength to speak. + +"I can tell you what I want now, Nick," she whispered. "Shall I tell +you?" + +He did not answer, did not so much as breathe. But yet she knew no +fear or hesitancy. Her eyes were opened, and her tongue loosed. Words +came easily to her now, more easily than they had ever come before. + +"I want to be married--soon, very soon," she told him softly. "And +then I want you to take me away with you into Nepal, as you planned +ever so long ago. And let us be alone together in the mountains--quite +alone as we were before. Will you, Nick? Will you?" + +But again he had no answer for her. He did not seem able to reply. +His head still lay against her shoulder. His arm was still tense about +her. She fell silent, waiting for him. + +At last he drew a deep breath that seemed to burst upwards from the +very heart of him, and lifted his face with a jerk. + +"My God!" he said. "Is it true?" + +His voice was oddly uneven; he seemed to produce it with difficulty. +But having broken the spell that bound him, he managed after a moment +to continue. + +"Are you quite sure you want to marry me,--quite sure that to-morrow +you won't be scared out of your wits at the bare idea? Have you left +off being afraid of me? Do you mean me really to take you at your +word?" + +"If you will, Nick," she answered humbly. + +"If I will!" he echoed, with sudden passion. "I warn you, Muriel, you +are putting yourself irrevocably in my power, and you will never break +away again. You may come to loathe me with your whole soul, but I +shall never let you go. Have you realised that? If I take you now, I +take you for all time." + +He spoke almost with violence, and, having spoken, drew back from her +abruptly, as though he could not wholly trust himself. + +But nothing could dismay her now. She had fought her last battle, had +made the final surrender. Her fear was dead. She stretched out her +hands to him with unfaltering confidence. + +"Take me then, Nick," she said. + +He took the extended hands with quick decision, first one and then the +other, and laid them on his shoulders. + +"Now look at me," he said. + +She hesitated, though not as one afraid. + +"Look at me, Muriel!" he insisted. + +Then, as she kept her eyes downcast, he put his hand under her chin +and compelled her. + +She yielded with a little quivering murmur of protest, and so for the +first time in her life she deliberately met his look, encountering +eyes so wide and so piercingly blue that she had a moment's bewildered +feeling of uncertainty, as though she had looked into the eyes of a +stranger. Then the colourless lashes descended again and veiled them +as of old. He blinked with his usual disconcerting rapidity and set +her free. + +"Yes," he said. "You've left off cheating. And if you really care to +marry me--what's left of me--it's a precious poor bargain, but--I am +yours." + +His voice cracked a little. She fancied he was going to laugh. And +then, while she was still wondering, his arm went round her again and +drew her closely to him. She was conscious of a sudden, leaping flame +behind the pale lashes, felt his hold tighten while the wrinkled face +drew near,--and with a sob she clasped her arms about his neck and +turned her lips to his. + + + + +CHAPTER LV + +OMNIA VINCIT AMOR + + +"Funny, wasn't it?" said Nick, jingling a small handful of coins in +front of his fiancée. "Quite a harvest in its way! I had no idea you +were so charitable." + +She caught his wrist. "You have no right to a single one of them. You +obtained them under false pretences. What in the world induced you to +do such a thing?" + +Nick's hand closed firmly upon the spoil. "It was a sheer, heaven-sent +inspiration," he declared. "Care to know how it came to me? It +happened one night in the Indian Ocean when I was on the way out with +Daisy. I was lying on deck under the stars, thinking of you, and the +whole idea came to me ready-made. I didn't attempt to shape it; it +shaped itself. I was hungering for the sight of you, and I knew you +would never find me out. You never would have, either, if I hadn't +had Daisy's message. I was just going to quit my lonely vigil when +it reached me. But that altered my plans, and I decided with Fraser's +assistance to face it out. You knew he was in the secret, of course? +He is in every secret, that chap. As soon as I heard of Lady Bassett's +ingenious little fiction about the Buddhist monastery, I was ready +to take the wan path. But you were invisible, you know. I had to wait +till you emerged. Then came last night's episode, and I had to take to +my heels. I couldn't face a public exposure, and it wouldn't have +been particularly pleasant for you, either. So now you have the whole +touching story, and I think you needn't grudge me a rupee and a few +annas as a reward for my devotion." + +Muriel laughed rather tremulously. "I would have given you something +better worth having--if I had known." + +"Never too late," said Nick philosophically. "You can begin at once +if you like. Let me have your hand. Hold it steady, my dear girl. +Remember my limitations. You won't refuse any longer to wear my ring?" + +"I will wear it gladly," she told him, as he fitted it back upon her +finger. "I shall never part with it again." + +Her eyes were full of tears, but she would not let them fall, and Nick +was too intent upon what he was doing to notice. + +"That imp Olga nearly broke her poor little heart when she gave it +back to me," he said. "I think I shall have to send her a cable. What +shall I say? OMNIA VINCIT AMOR? She is old enough to know what that +means. And if I add, 'From Muriel and Nick,' she will understand. A +pity she can't come to our wedding! I'd sooner have seen her jolly +little phiz than all Lady Bassett's wreathed smiles. She is sure to +smile, you know. She always does when she sees me." He broke off with +a hideous grimace. + +"Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice trembled a little. "Why does she hate +you so?" + +"Can't imagine," grinned Nick. "It's a way some people have. Perhaps +she will end by falling in love with me. Who knows?" + +"Don't be horrid, Nick! Why won't you tell me?" Muriel laid a pleading +hand upon his. + +He caught it to his lips. "I can't tell you, darling, seeing she is +a woman. An unpleasant adventure befell her once for which I was +partially responsible. And she has hated me with most unseemly +vehemence ever since." + +A light began to break upon Muriel. "Was it something that happened on +board ship?" she hazarded. + +He gave her a sharp look. "Who told you that?" + +She flushed a little. "Bobby Fraser. He didn't mention her name, of +course. We--we were talking about you once." + +Nick laughed aloud. "Only once?" + +Her colour deepened. "You are positively ridiculous. Still, I wish +it hadn't been Lady Bassett, Nick. I don't like to feel she hates you +like that." + +"It doesn't hurt me in the least," Nick declared. "Her poison-fang is +extracted so far as I am concerned. She could only poison me through +you. I always knew I had her to thank for what happened at Simla." + +"Oh, but not her alone," Muriel said quickly. "You mustn't blame her +only for that. I was prejudiced against you by--other things." + +"I know all about it," said Nick. He was holding her hand in his, +moving it hither and thither to catch the gleam of the rubies upon it. +"You were a poor little scared rabbit fleeing from a hideous monster +of destruction. You began to run that last night at Wara when I made +you drink that filthy draught, and you have hardly stopped yet. I +don't suppose it ever occurred to you that I would rather have died +in torment than have done it." He broke into a sudden laugh. "But you +needn't be afraid that I shall ever do it again. I can't do much +to any one with only one arm, can I? You witnessed my futility last +night. There's a grain of comfort in that, eh, darling?" + +"Nick, don't, don't!" She turned to him impulsively and laid her cheek +against his shoulder. "You--you don't know how you hurt me!" + +"My dear girl, what's the matter?" said Nick. "I was only trying to +draw your attention to my good points--such as they are." + +"Don't!" she said again, in a choked voice. "It's more than I can +bear. You would never have lost your arm but for me." + +"Oh, rats!" said Nick, holding her closely. "Whoever told you that--" + +"It was Dr. Jim." + +"Well, Jim's an ass, and I shall tell him so. There, don't fret, +darling. It isn't worth it. I could wish it hadn't happened for your +sake, but I don't care a rap for my own." + +"You are not to care for mine," she whispered. "I shall only love you +the better for it." + +"Then it will be a blessing to me after all," said Nick cheerily. +"Do you know what we are going to do as soon as we are married, +sweetheart? We are going to climb the highest mountain in the world, +to see the sun rise, and to thank God." + +She turned her face upwards with a quivering smile. "Let us be married +soon then, Nick." + +"At once," said Nick promptly. "Come along and tell Sir Reginald. +He must be out of bed by this time. If he isn't I think the occasion +almost justifies us in knocking him up." + +They found Sir Reginald already upon the verandah, drinking his early +coffee, and to Muriel's dismay he was not alone. It was later than she +had imagined, and Colonel Cathcart and Bobby Fraser had both dropped +in for a gossip, and were seated with him at the table smoking. + +As she and Nick approached, Lady Bassett herself emerged through an +open window behind the three men. + +Nick began to chuckle. This was the sort of situation that appealed +to his sense of humour. He began to chant an old-world ditty under his +breath with appropriate words. + +"Oh, dear, what will the Bassett say?" + +Muriel uttered a short, hysterical laugh, and instantly they were +discovered. + +"Now what are you going to do?" said Nick. + +"I don't know," she responded hurriedly. "Run away, I think." + +"Not you," said Nick, grasping her hand very firmly. "You are going to +face the music with me." + +She gave in, half laughing, half protesting, and he led her up the +steps with considerable pomp. + +She need not have been so painfully embarrassed, for every one, with +the exception of Bobby Fraser, looked at Nick, and Nick only, in +speechless amazement, as though he had just returned from the dead. + +Nick was sublimely equal to the occasion. He came to a standstill by +the table, executed an elaborate bow in Lady Bassett's direction, then +turned briskly to Sir Reginald. + +"After two years' deliberation," he announced, "we have decided to +settle our differences by getting married, and we are hoping, sir, +that you will bestow your blessing upon our union." + +"My good fellow!" gasped Sir Reginald. "This is a very great +surprise!" + +"Yes, I know," said Nick. "It was to me, too. But--though fully +sensible of my unworthiness--I shall do my best to deserve the very +high honour that has been done me. And I hope we may count upon your +approval and support." + +Again his bow included Lady Bassett. There was a mocking glint in the +glance he threw her. + +She came forward as though in answer to a challenge, her face +unwontedly flushed. "This is indeed unexpected!" she declared, +extending her hand. "How do you do, Captain Ratcliffe? You will +understand our surprise when I tell you that some one was saying only +the other day that you had entered a Tibetan monastery." + +"Some one must have been telling a lie, dear Lady Bassett," said Nick. +"I am sorry if it caused you any uneasiness on my account. I should +certainly never have taken such a serious step without letting you +know. I trust that my projected marriage will have a less disturbing +effect." + +Lady Bassett smiled her crooked smile, and raised one eyebrow. "Oh, I +shall not be anxious on your account," she assured him playfully. + +"Quite right, Lady Bassett," broke in Colonel Cathcart. "He'll hold +his own, wherever he is. I always said so when he was in the Service." + +"And a little over probably," put in Bobby Fraser. "Miss Roscoe, if +you ever find him hard to manage, you send for me." + +Muriel, from the shelter of Sir Reginald's arm, looked across at the +speaker with a smile of unwonted confidence. + +"Thank you all the same," she responded, "but I don't expect any +difficulties in that respect." + +"She is far more likely to fight my battles for me," remarked Nick +complacently, "seeing my own fighting days are over." + +"And what have you been doing with yourself all this time?" demanded +Sir Reginald suddenly. "You have been singularly unobtrusive. What +have you been doing?" + +Nick's answering grin was one of sheer exuberance of spirit. "I've +just been marking time, sir, that's all," he replied enigmatically. +"A monotonous business for every one concerned, but it seems to have +served its purpose." + +Sir Reginald grunted a little, and looked uncomfortably at his wife's +twisted smile. "And now you want to get married, do you?" he said. + +"At once," said Nick. + +"Well, well," said Sir Reginald, beginning to smile himself. "All's +well that ends well, and Muriel is old enough to please herself. Mind +you are good to her, that's all. And I wish you both every happiness." + +"So do I," said Bobby Fraser heartily. "And look here, you +jack-in-the-box, if you're wanting a best man to push you through, +I'll undertake the job. It's a capacity in which I have often made +myself useful." + +"Right O!" laughed Nick. "But you won't find I want much pushing, old +chap. I'm on my way to the top crag of Everest already." + +"Ah, Captain Ratcliffe, be careful!" murmured Lady Bassett. "Do not +soar too high!" + +He bowed to her a third time, still with his baffling smile. "Thanks, +dear Lady Bassett!" he said lightly. "But you need have no misgivings. +Forewarned is forearmed, they say. And on this occasion, at least, I +am wise--in time." + +"And dear Muriel too, I wonder?" smiled Lady Bassett. + +"And dear Muriel too," smiled Nick. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI + +THE EAGLE SOARS + + +Night and a running stream--a soft gurgle of sound that was like a +lullaby. Within the tent the quiet breathing of a man asleep; standing +in the entrance--a woman. + +There was a faint quiver in the air as of something coming from afar, +a hushed expectancy of something great. A chill breath came off the +snows, hovering secretly above the ice-cold water. The stars glittered +like loose-hung jewels upon a sable robe. + +Ah, that flash as of a sword across the sky! A meteor had fallen among +the mountains. It was almost like a signal in the heavens--herald of +the coming wonder of the dawn. + +Softly the watcher turned inwards, and at once a gay, cracked voice +spoke out of the darkness. + +"Hullo, darling! Up and watching already! Ye gods! What a sky! Why +didn't you wake me sooner? Have I time for a plunge?" + +"Perhaps--if you will let me help you dress after it. Certainly not +otherwise." The deep voice had in it a tremulous note that was like a +caress. The speaker was looking into the shadows. The glory without no +longer held her. + +"All right then, you shall--just for a treat. Perhaps you would like +to shave me as well?" + +"Shave you!" There was scorn this time in the answering voice. "You +couldn't grow a single hair if you tried!" + +"True, O Queen! I couldn't. And the few I was born with are invisible. +Hence my failure to distinguish myself in the Army. It is to be hoped +the deficiency will not blight my Parliamentary career also--always +supposing I get there." + +"Ah, but you did distinguish yourself. I heard--once"--the words came +with slight hesitation--"that you ought to have had the V.C. after the +Wara expedition,--only you refused it." + +"I wonder what gas-bag let that out," commented Nick. "You shouldn't +believe all you hear, you know. Now, darling, I'm ready for the +plunge, and I must look sharp about it too. Do you mind rummaging out +a towel?" + +"But, Nick, was it true?" + +"What? The V.C. episode? Oh, I suppose so, more or less. I didn't +want to be decorated for running away, you see. It didn't seem exactly +suitable. Besides, I didn't do it for that." + +"Nick, do you know you make me feel more contemptible every day?" +There was an unmistakable quiver of distress in the words. + +"My own girl, don't be a goose!" came the light response. "You don't +honestly suppose I could ever regret anything now, do you? Why, it's a +lost faculty." + +He stepped from the tent, clad loosely in a bath sheet, and bestowed a +kiss upon his wife's downcast face in passing. "Look here, sweetheart, +if you cry while I'm in the water, I'll beat you directly I come out. +That's a promise, not a threat. And by the way, I've got something +good to tell you presently; so keep your heart up." + +He laughed at her and went his way, humming tunelessly after his +own peculiarly volatile fashion. She listened to his singing, as he +splashed in the stream below, as though it were the sweetest music on +earth; and she knew that he had spoken the truth. Whatever sacrifices +he had made in the past, regret was a thing impossible to him now. + +By the time he joined her again, she had driven away her own. The sky +was changing mysteriously. The purple depth was lightening, the stars +receding. + +"We must hurry," said Nick. "The gods won't wait for us." + +But they were ready first after all, and the morning found them high +up the mountainside with their faces to the east. + +Sudden and splendid, the sun flashed up over the edge of the world, +and the snow of the mountain crests shone in roselit glory for a few +magic seconds, then shimmered to gold--glittering as the peaks of +Paradise. + +They did not speak at all, for the ground beneath their feet was holy, +and all things that called for speech were left behind. Only as +dawn became day--as the sun-god mounted triumphant above the waiting +earth--the man's arm tightened about the woman, and his flickering +eyes grew steadfast and reverent as the eyes of one who sees a +vision.... + +"'Prophet and priestess we came--back from the dawning,'" quoted Nick, +under his breath. + +Muriel uttered a long, long sigh, and turned her face against her +husband's shoulder. + +His lips were on her forehead for a moment; the next he was peering +into her face with his usual cheery grin. + +"Care to hear my piece of news?" he questioned. + +She looked at him eagerly. "Oh, Nick, not the mail!" + +He nodded. "Runner came in late last night. You were asleep and +dreaming of me. I hadn't the heart to wake you." + +She laughed and blushed. "As if I should! Do you really imagine that I +never think of anyone else? But go on. What news?" + +He pulled out two letters. "One from Olga, full of adoration, bless +her funny heart, and containing also a rude message from Jim to the +effect that Redlands is going to rack and ruin for want of a tenant +while we are philandering on the outside edge of civilisation doing +no good to anybody. No good indeed! I'll punch his head for that some +day. But I suppose we really ought to be thinking of Home before long, +eh, sweetheart?" + +She assented with a smile and a sigh. "I am sure we ought. Dr. Jim is +quite right. We must come back to earth again, my eagle and I." + +Nick kissed her hair. "It's been a gorgeous flight hasn't it? We'll do +it again--heaps of times--before we die." + +"If nothing happens to prevent," said Muriel. + +He frowned. "What do you say that for? Are you trying to be like Lady +Bassett? Because it's a vain aspiration, so you may as well give it up +at the outset." + +"Nick, how absurd you are!" There was a slight break in the words. +"I--I had almost forgotten there was such a person. No, I said it +because--because--well, anything might happen, you know." + +"Such as?" said Nick. + +"Anything," she repeated almost inaudibly. + +Nick pondered this for a moment. "Is it a riddle?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Her face was hidden. + +He waited a little. Then, "I shall begin to guess directly," he said. + +She uttered a muffled laugh, and clung to him with a sudden, +passionate closeness. "Nick, you--you humbug! You know!" + +Nick tossed his letters on the ground and held her fast. "My precious +girl, you gave the show away not ten seconds ago by that blush of +yours. There! Don't be so absurdly shy! You can't be shy with me. Look +at me, sweet. Look up and tell me it's true!" + +She turned her face upwards, quivering all over, yet laughing +tremulously. "Yes, Nick, really, really!" she told him. "Oh, my +darling, are you glad?" + +"Am I glad?" said Nick, and laughed at her softly. "I'm the happiest +man on earth. I shall go Home now without a pang, and so will you. +We have got to feather the nest, you know. That'll be fun, eh, +sweetheart?" + +Her eyes answered him more convincingly than any words. They seemed +to have caught some of the sunshine that made the world around them so +glorious. + +Some time elapsed before she remembered the neglected correspondence. +Time was of no account up there among the mountains. + +"The other letter, Nick, you didn't tell me about it. I fancied you +might have heard from Will Musgrave." + +"So I have," said Nick. "You had better read it. There's a line for +you inside. It's all right. Daisy has got a little girl, both doing +splendidly; Daisy very happy, Will nearly off his head with joy." + +Muriel was already deep in Will's ecstatic letter. She read it with +smiling lips and tearful eyes. At the end in pencil she found the line +that was for her. + +"Tell Muriel that all's well with me, and I want you both for +Christmas.--Daisy." + +Muriel looked up. "I promised to spend Christmas with them, Nick." + +Nick smiled upon her quizzically. "By a strange coincidence, darling, +so did I. I should think under the circumstances we might go together, +shouldn't you?" + +She drew his hand to her cheek. "We will go to them for Christmas +then. And after that straight Home. Tell Dr. Jim when you write. +But--Nick--I think we should like to feather the nest all ourselves, +don't you?" + +"Why, rather!" said Nick. "We'll do it together--just you and I." + +"Just you and I," she repeated softly. + +Later, hand in hand, they looked across the valley to the shining +crags that glistened spear-like in the sun. + +A great silence lay around them--a peace unspeakable--that those +silver crests lifted into the splendour of Infinity. + +They stood alone together--above the world--with their faces to the +mountains. + +And thus standing with the woman he loved, Nick spoke, briefly--it +seemed lightly--yet with a certain tremor in his voice. + +"Horses," he said--"and chariots--of fire!" And Muriel looked at him +with memory and understanding in her eyes. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way of an Eagle, by Ethel M. Dell + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12516 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..585fcbe --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #12516 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12516) diff --git a/old/12516-8.txt b/old/12516-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1d78831 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12516-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13654 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way of an Eagle, by Ethel M. Dell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Way of an Eagle + +Author: Ethel M. Dell + +Release Date: June 4, 2004 [EBook #12516] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY OF AN EAGLE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bill Hershey and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +[Illustration: Drawn by John Cassel. +"Where am I?" she gasped. "What--what +have you done with me?"] + + + + +The Way of an Eagle + + +By E.M. DELL + +1911 + + + + +CONTENTS + + + +PART I + + +CHAPTER + +I.--THE TRUST + +II.--A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER + +III.--THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY + +IV.--DESOLATION + +V.--THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS + +VI.--WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL + +VII.--THE COMING OF AN ARMY + + + +PART II + + +VIII.--COMRADES + +IX.--THE SCHOOL OF SORROW + +X.--THE EAGLE SWOOPS + +XI.--THE FIRST FLIGHT + +XII.--THE MESSAGE + +XIII.--THE VOICE OF A FRIEND + +XIV.--THE POISON OF ADDERS + +XV.--THE SUMMONS + +XVI.--THE ORDEAL + + + +PART III + + +XVII.--An Old Friend + +XVIII.--The Explanation + +XIX.--A Hero Worshipper + +XX.--News from the East + +XXI.--A Harbour of Refuge + +XXII.--An Old Story + +XXIII.--The Sleep Called Death + +XXIV.--The Creed of a Fighter + +XXV.--A Scented Letter + +XXVI.--The Eternal Flame + +XXVII.--The Eagle Caged + +XXVIII.--The Lion's Skin + +XXIX.--Old Friends Meet + +XXX.--An Offer of Friendship + +XXXI.--The Eagle Hovers + + + +PART IV + + +XXXII.--The Face in the Storm + +XXXIII.--The Lifting of the Mask + +XXXIV.--At the Gate of Death + +XXXV.--The Armistice + +XXXVI.--The Eagle Strikes + +XXXVII. THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT + +XXXVIII. THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF + +XXXIX. BY SINGLE COMBAT + +XL. THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + +XLI. THE EAGLE'S PREY + +XLII. THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL + +XLIII. REQUIESCAT + +XLIV. LOVE'S PRISONER + + + +PART V + + +XLV. THE VISION + +XLVI. THE HEART OF A MAN + +XLVII. IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP + +XLVIII. THE HEALING OF THE BREACH + +XLIX. THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG + +L. EREBUS + +LI. THE BIRD OF PARADISE + +LII. A WOMAN'S OFFERING + +LIII. THE LAST SKIRMISH + +LIV. SURRENDER + +LV. OMNIA VINCIT AMOR + +LVI. THE EAGLE SOARS + + + + + "There be three things which are too wonderful + for me, yea, four which I know not: + + The way of an eagle in the air; + the way of a serpent upon a rock; + the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; + and the way of a man with a maid." + +Proverbs xxx, 18-19. + + + + +THE WAY OF AN EAGLE + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRUST + + +The long clatter of an irregular volley of musketry rattled warningly +from the naked mountain ridges; over a great grey shoulder of rock +the sun sank in a splendid opal glow; from very near at hand came the +clatter of tin cups and the sound of a subdued British laugh. And in +the room of the Brigadier-General a man lifted his head from his hands +and stared upwards with unseeing, fixed eyes. + +There was an impotent, crushed look about him as of one nearing the +end of his strength. The lips under the heavy grey moustache moved a +little as though they formed soundless words. He drew his breath once +or twice sharply through his teeth. Finally, with a curious groping +movement he reached out and struck a small hand-gong on the table in +front of him. + +The door slid open instantly and an Indian soldier stood in the +opening. The Brigadier stared full at him for several seconds as if he +saw nothing, his lips still moving secretly, silently. Then suddenly, +with a stiff gesture, he spoke. + +"Ask the major sahib and the two captain sahibs to come to me here." + +The Indian saluted and vanished like a swift-moving shadow. + +The Brigadier sank back into his chair, his head drooped forward, his +hands clenched. There was tragedy, hopeless and absolute, in every +line of him. + +There came the careless clatter of spurred heels and loosely-slung +swords in the passage outside of the half-closed door, the sound of a +stumble, a short ejaculation, and again a smothered laugh. + +"Confound you Grange! Why can't you keep your feet to yourself, you +ungainly Triton, and give us poor minnows a chance?" + +The Brigadier sat upright with a jerk. It was growing rapidly dark. + +"Come in, all of you," he said. "I have something to say. As well to +shut the door, Ratcliffe, though it is not a council of war." + +"There being nothing left to discuss, sir," returned the voice that +had laughed. "It is just a simple case of sitting tight now till +Bassett comes round the corner." + +The Brigadier glanced up at the speaker and caught the last glow of +the fading sunset reflected on his face. It was a clean-shaven face +that should have possessed a fair skin, but by reason of unfavourable +circumstances it was burnt to a deep yellow-brown. The features were +pinched and wrinkled--they might have belonged to a very old man; but +the eyes that smiled down into the Brigadier's were shrewd, bright, +monkey-like. They expressed a cheeriness almost grotesque. The two men +whom he had followed into the room stood silent among the shadows. The +gloom was such as could be felt. + +Suddenly, in short, painful tones the Brigadier began to speak. + +"Sit down," he said. "I have sent for you to ask one among you to +undertake for me a certain service which must be accomplished, but +which I--" he paused and again audibly caught his breath between his +teeth--"which I--am unable to execute for myself." + +An instant's silence followed the halting speech. Then the young +officer who stood against the door stepped briskly forward. + +"What's the job, sir? I'll wager my evening skilly I carry it +through." + +One of the men in the shadows moved, and spoke in a repressive tone. +"Shut up, Nick! This is no mess-room joke." + +Nick made a sharp, half-contemptuous gesture. "A joke only ceases +to be a joke when there is no one left to laugh, sir," he said. "We +haven't come to that at present." + +He stood in front of the Brigadier for a moment--an insignificant +figure but for the perpetual suggestion of simmering activity that +pervaded him; then stepped behind the commanding officer's chair, and +there took up his stand without further words. + +The Brigadier paid no attention to him. His mind was fixed upon one +subject only. Moreover, no one ever took Nick Ratcliffe seriously. It +seemed a moral impossibility. + +"It is quite plain to me," he said heavily at length, "that the time +has come to face the situation. I do not speak for the discouragement +of you brave fellows. I know that I can rely upon each one of you to +do your duty to the utmost. But we are bound to look at things as they +are, and so prepare for the inevitable. I for one am firmly convinced +that General Bassett cannot possibly reach us in time." + +He paused, but no one spoke. The man behind him was leaning forward, +listening intently. + +He went on with an effort. "We are a mere handful. We have dwindled +to four white men among a host of dark. Relief is not even within a +remote distance of us, and we are already bordering upon starvation. +We may hold out for three days more. And then"--his breath came +suddenly short, but he forced himself to continue--"I have to think of +my child. She will be in your hands. I know you will all defend her to +the last ounce of your strength; but which of you"--a terrible gasping +checked his utterance for many labouring seconds; he put his hand over +his eyes--"which of you," he whispered at last, his words barely +audible, "will have the strength to--shoot her before your own last +moment comes?" + +The question quivered through the quiet room as if wrung from the +twitching lips by sheer torture. It went out in silence--a dreadful, +lasting silence in which the souls of men, stripped naked of human +convention, stood confronting the first primaeval instinct of human +chivalry. + +It continued through many terrible seconds--that silence, and through +it no one moved, no one seemed to breathe. It was as if a spell +had been cast upon the handful of Englishmen gathered there in the +deepening darkness. + +The Brigadier sat bowed and motionless at the table, his head sunk in +his hands. + +Suddenly there was a quiet movement behind him, and the spell was +broken. Ratcliffe stepped deliberately forward and spoke. + +"General," he said quietly, "if you will put your daughter in my care, +I swear to you, so help me God, that no harm of any sort shall touch +her." + +There was no hint of emotion in his voice, albeit the words were +strong; but it had a curious effect upon those who heard it. The +Brigadier raised his head sharply, and peered at him; and the other +two officers started as men suddenly stumbling at an unexpected +obstacle in a familiar road. + +One of them, Major Marshall, spoke, briefly and irritably, with a +touch of contempt. His nerves were on edge in that atmosphere of +despair. + +"You, Nick!" he said. "You are about the least reliable man in +the garrison. You can't be trusted to take even reasonable care of +yourself. Heaven only knows how it is you weren't killed long ago. It +was thanks to no discretion on your part. You don't know the meaning +of the word." + +Nick did not answer, did not so much as seem to hear. He was standing +before the Brigadier. His eyes gleamed in his alert face--two weird +pin-points of light. + +"She will be safe with me," he said, in a tone that held not the +smallest shade of uncertainty. + +But the Brigadier did not speak. He still searched young Ratcliffe's +face as a man who views through field-glasses a region distant and +unexplored. + +After a moment the officer who had remained silent throughout came +forward a step and spoke. He was a magnificent man with the physique +of a Hercules. He had remained on his feet, impassive but observant, +from the moment of his entrance. His voice had that soft quality +peculiar to some big men. + +"I am ready to sell my life for Miss Roscoe's safety, sir," he said. + +Nick Ratcliffe jerked his shoulders expressively, but said nothing. He +was waiting for the General to speak. As the latter rose slowly, with +evident effort, from his chair, he thrust out a hand, as if almost +instinctively offering help to one in sore need. + +General Roscoe grasped it and spoke at last. He had regained his +self-command. "Let me understand you, Ratcliffe," he said. "You +suggest that I should place my daughter in your charge. But I must +know first how far you are prepared to go to ensure her safety." + +He was answered instantly, with an unflinching promptitude he had +scarcely expected. + +"I am prepared to go to the uttermost limit, sir," said Nicholas +Ratcliffe, his fingers closing like springs upon the hand that gripped +his, "if there is a limit. That is to say, I am ready to go through +hell for her. I am a straight shot, a cool shot, a dead shot. Will you +trust me?" + +His voice throbbed with sudden feeling. General Roscoe was watching +him closely. "Can I trust you, Nick?" he said. + +There was an instant's silence, and the two men in the background +were aware that something passed between them--a look or a rapid +sign--which they did not witness. Then reckless and debonair came +Nick's voice. + +"I don't know, sir. But if I am untrustworthy, may I die to-night!" + +General Roscoe laid his free hand upon the young man's shoulder. + +"Is it so, Nick?" he said, and uttered a heavy sigh. "Well--so be it +then. I trust you." + +"That settles it, sir," said Nick cheerily. "The job is mine." + +He turned round with a certain arrogance of bearing, and walked to the +door. But there he stopped, looking back through the darkness at the +dim figures he had left. + +"Perhaps you will tell Miss Roscoe that you have appointed me +deputy-governor," he said. "And tell her not to be frightened, sir. +Say I'm not such a bogey as I look, and that she will be perfectly +safe with me." His tone was half-serious, half-jocular. He wrenched +open the door not waiting for a reply. + +"I must go back to the guns," he said, and the next moment was gone, +striding carelessly down the passage, and whistling a music-hall +ballad as he went. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER + + +In the centre of the little frontier fort there was a room which one +and all of its defenders regarded as sacred. It was an insignificant +chamber, narrow as a prison cell and almost as bare; but it was the +safest place in the fort. In it General Roscoe's daughter--the only +white woman in the garrison--had dwelt safely since the beginning of +that dreadful siege. + +Strictly forbidden by her father to stir from her refuge without +his express permission, she had dragged out the long days in close +captivity, living in the midst of nerve-shattering tumult but taking +no part therein. She was little more than a child, and accustomed +to render implicit obedience to the father she idolised, or she had +scarcely been persuaded to submit to this rigorous seclusion. It would +perhaps have been better for her physically and even mentally to +have gone out and seen the horrors which were being daily enacted all +around her. She had at first pleaded for at least a limited freedom, +urging that she might take her part in caring for the wounded. But her +father had refused this request with such decision that she had never +repeated it. And so she had seen nothing while hearing much, lying +through many sleepless nights with nerves strung to a pitch of torture +far more terrible than any bodily exhaustion, and vivid imagination +ever at work upon pictures more ghastly than even the ghastly reality +which she was not allowed to see. + +The strain was such as no human frame could have endured for long. +Her strength was beginning to break down under it. The long sleepless +nights were more than she could bear. And there came a time when +Muriel Roscoe, driven to extremity, sought relief in a remedy from +which in her normal senses she would have turned in disgust. + +It helped her, but it left its mark upon her--a mark which her father +must have noted, had he not been almost wholly occupied with the +burden that weighed him down. Morning and evening he visited her, yet +failed to read that in her haunted eyes which could not have escaped a +clearer vision. + +Entering her room two hours after his interview with his officers +regarding her, he looked at her searchingly indeed, but without +understanding. She lay among cushions on a _charpoy_ of bamboo in +the light of a shaded lamp. Young and slight and angular, with a +pale little face of utter weariness, with great dark eyes that gazed +heavily out of the black shadows that ringed them round, such was +Muriel Roscoe. Her black hair was simply plaited and gathered up at +the neck. It lay in cloudy masses about her temples--wonderful hair, +quite lustreless, so abundant that it seemed almost too much for the +little head that bore it. She did not rise at her father's entrance. +She scarcely raised her eyes. + +"So glad you've come, Daddy," she said, in a soft, low voice. "I've +been wanting you. It's nearly bedtime, isn't it?" + +He went to her, treading lightly. His thoughts had been all of her for +the past few hours and in consequence he looked at her more critically +than usual. For the first time he was struck by her pallor, her look +of deathly weariness. On the table near her lay a plate of boiled rice +piled high in a snowy pyramid. He saw that it had not been touched. + +"Why, child," he said, a sudden new anxiety at his heart "you have had +nothing to eat. You're not ill?" + +She roused herself a little, and a very faint colour crept into her +white cheeks. "No, dear, only tired--too tired to be hungry," she told +him. "That rice is for you." + +He sat down beside her with a sound that was almost a groan. "You must +eat something, child," he said. "Being penned up here takes away your +appetite. But all the same you must eat." + +She sat up slowly, and pushed back the heavy hair from her forehead +with a sigh. + +"Very well, Daddy," she said submissively. "But you must have some +too, dear. I couldn't possible eat it all." + +Something in his attitude or expression seemed to strike her at this +point, and she made a determined effort to shake off her lethargy. A +spoon and fork lay by the plate. She handed him the former and kept +the latter for herself. + +"We'll have a picnic, Daddy." she said, with a wistful little smile. +"I told _ayah_ always to bring two plates, but she has forgotten. We +don't mind, though, do we?" + +It was childishly spoken, but the pathos of it went straight to the +man's heart. He tasted the rice under her watching eyes and pronounced +it very good; then waited for her to follow his example which she did +with a slight shudder. + +"Delicious, Daddy, isn't it?" she said. And even he did not guess what +courage underlay the words. + +They kept up the farce till the pyramid was somewhat reduced; then by +mutual consent they suffered their ardour to flag. There was a faint +colour in the girl's thin face as she leaned back again. Her eyes were +brighter, the lids drooped less. + +"I had a dream last night, Daddy," she said, "such a curious dream, +and so vivid. I thought I was out on the mountains with some one. I +don't know who it was, but it was some one very nice. It seemed to be +very near the sunrise, for it was quite bright up above, though it was +almost dark where we stood. And, do you know--don't laugh, Daddy, +I know it was only a silly dream--when I looked up, I saw that +everywhere the mountains were full of horses and chariots of fire. I +felt so safe, Daddy, and so happy. I could have cried when I woke up." + +She paused. It was rather difficult for her to make conversation for +the silent man who sat beside her so gloomy and preoccupied. Save that +she loved her father as she loved no one else on earth, she might have +felt awed in his presence. + +As it was, receiving no response, she turned to look, and the next +instant was on her knees beside him, her thin young arms clinging to +his neck. + +"Daddy, darling, darling!" she whispered, and hid her face against him +in sudden, nameless terror. + +He clasped her to him, holding her close, that she might not again see +his face and the look it wore. She began to tremble, and he tried to +soothe her with his hand, but for many seconds he could find no words. + +"What is it, Daddy?" she whispered at last, unable to endure the +silence longer. "Won't you tell me? I can be very brave. You said so +yourself." + +"Yes," he said. "You will be a brave girl, I know." His voice quivered +and he paused to steady it. "Muriel," he said then, "I don't know if +you have ever thought of the end of all this. There will be an end, +you know. I have had to face it to-night." + +She looked up at him quickly, but he was ready for her. He had +banished from his face the awful despair that he carried in his soul. + +"When Sir Reginald Bassett comes--" she began uncertainly. + +He put his hand on her shoulder. "You will try not to be afraid," he +said. "I am going to treat you, as I have treated my officers, with +absolute candour. We shall not hold out more than three days more. Sir +Reginald Bassett will not be here in time." + +He stopped. Muriel uttered not a word. Her face was still upturned, +and her eyes had suddenly grown intensely bright, but he read no +shrinking in them. + +With an effort he forced himself to go on. "I may not be able to +protect you when the end comes. I may not even be with you. But--there +is one man upon whom you can safely rely whatever happens, who will +give himself up to securing your safety alone. He has sworn to me that +you shall not be taken, and I know that he will keep his word. You +will be safe with him, Muriel. You may trust him as long as you live. +He will not fail you. Perhaps you can guess his name?" + +He asked the question with a touch of curiosity in the midst of +his tragedy. That upturned, listening face had in it so little of a +woman's understanding, so much of the deep wonder of a child. + +Her answer was prompt and confident, and albeit her very lips were +white, there was a faint hint of satisfaction in her voice as she made +it. + +"Captain Grange, of course, Daddy." + +He started and looked at her narrowly. "No, no!" he said. "Not Grange! +What should make you think of him?" + +He saw a look of swift disappointment, almost of consternation, darken +her eyes. For the first time her lips quivered uncertainly. + +"Who then, Daddy? Not--not Mr. Ratcliffe?" + +He bent his head. "Yes, Nick Ratcliffe. I have placed you in his +charge. He will take care of you." + +"Young Nick Ratcliffe!" she said slowly. "Why, Daddy, he can't even +take care of himself yet. Every one says so. Besides,"--a curiously +womanly touch crept into her speech--"I don't like him. Only the other +day I heard him laugh at something that was terrible--something it +makes me sick to think of. Indeed, Daddy, I would far rather have +Captain Grange to take care of me. Don't you think he would if you +asked him? He is so much bigger and stronger, and--and kinder." + +"Ah! I know," her father said. "He seems so to you. But it is nerve +that your protector will need, child; and Ratcliffe possesses more +nerve than all the rest of the garrison put together. No, it must be +Ratcliffe, Muriel. And remember to give him all your trust, all your +confidence. For whatever he does will be with my authority--with +my--full--approval." + +His voice failed suddenly and he rose, turning sharply away from the +light. She clung to his arm silently, in a passion of tenderness, +though she was far from understanding the suffering those last words +revealed. She had never seen him thus moved before. + +After a few seconds he turned back to her, and bending kissed her +piteous face. She clung closely to him with an agonised longing to +keep him with her; but he put her gently from him at last. + +"Lie down again, dear," he said, "and get what rest you can. Try not +to be frightened at the noise. There is sure to be an assault, but the +fort will hold to-night." + +He stood a moment, looking down at her. Then again he stooped and +kissed her. "Good-bye, my darling," he said huskily, "till we meet +again!" + +And so hurriedly, as if not trusting himself to remain longer, he left +her. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY + + +There came again the running rattle of rifle-firing from the valley +below the fort, and Muriel Roscoe, lying on her couch, pressed both +hands to her eyes and shivered. It seemed impossible that the end +could be so near. She felt as if she had existed for years in this +living nightmare of many horrors, had lain down and had slept with +that dreadful sound in her ears from the very beginning of things. The +life she had led before these ghastly happenings had become so vague a +memory that it almost seemed to belong to a previous existence, to an +earlier and a happier era. As in a dream she now recalled the vision +of her English school-life. It lay not a year behind her, but she felt +herself to have changed so fundamentally since those sunny, peaceful +days that she seemed to be a different person altogether. The Muriel +Roscoe of those days had been a merry, light-hearted personality. She +had revelled in games and all outdoor amusements. Moreover, she had +been quick to learn, and her lessons had never caused her any trouble. +A daring sprite she had been, with a most fertile imagination and a +longing for adventure that had never been fully satisfied, possessing +withal so tender and loving a heart that the very bees in the garden +had been among her cherished friends. She remembered all the sunny +ideals of that golden time and marvelled at herself, forgetting +utterly the eager, even passionate, craving that had then been hers +for the wider life, the broader knowledge, that lay beyond her reach, +forgetting the feverish impatience with which she had longed for +the day of her emancipation when she might join her father in the +wonderful glowing East which she so often pictured in her dreams. Of +her mother she had no memory. She had died at her birth. Her father +was all the world to her; and when at last he had travelled home on a +brief leave and taken her from her quiet English life to the strange, +swift existence of the land of his exile, her soul had overflowed with +happiness. + +Nevertheless, she had not been carried away by the gaieties of this +new world. The fascinations of dance and gymkhana had not caught her. +The joy of being with her father was too sacred and too precious to be +foregone for these lesser pleasures, and she very speedily decided to +sacrifice all social entertainments to which he could not accompany +her. She rode with him, camped with him, and became his inseparable +companion. Undeveloped in many ways, shy in the presence of strangers, +she soon forgot her earlier ambition to see the world and all that it +contained. Her father's society was to her all-sufficing, and it was +no sacrifice to her to withdraw herself from the gay crowd and dwell +apart with him. + +He had no wish to monopolise her, but it was a relief to him that the +constant whirl of pleasure about her attracted her so little. He liked +to have her with him, and it soon became a matter of course that she +should accompany him on all his expeditions. She revelled in his tours +of inspection. They were so many picnics to her, and she enjoyed them +with the zest of a child. + +And so it came to pass that she was with him among the hills of the +frontier when, like a pent flood suddenly escaping, the storm of +rebellion broke and seethed about them, threatening them with total +annihilation. + +No serious trouble had been anticipated. A certain tract of country +had been reported unquiet, and General Roscoe had been ordered to +proceed thither on a tour of inspection and also, to a very mild +degree, of intimidation. Marching through the district from fort to +fort, he had encountered no shadow of opposition. All had gone well. +And then, his work over, and all he set out to do satisfactorily +accomplished, his face towards India and his back to the mountains, +the unexpected had come upon him like a thunderbolt. + +Hordes of tribesmen, gathered Heaven knew how or whence, had suddenly +burst upon him from the south, had cut off his advance by sheer +immensity of numbers, and, hemming him in, had forced him gradually +back into the mountain fastnesses through which he had just passed +unmolested. + +It was a stroke so wholly new, so subtly executed, that it had won +success almost before the General had realised the weight of the +disaster that had come upon him. He had believed himself at first to +be involved in a mere fray with border thieves. But before he reached +the fort upon which he found himself obliged to fall back, he knew +that he had to cope with a general rising of the tribes, and that the +means at his disposal were as inadequate to stem the rising flood of +rebellion as a pebble thrown into a mountain stream to check its flow. + +The men under his command, with the exception of a few officers, were +all native soldiers, and he soon began to have a strong suspicion that +among these he numbered traitors. Nevertheless, he established himself +at the fort, determined there to make his stand till relief should +arrive. + +The telegraph wires were cut, and for a time it seemed that all +communication with the outside world was an impossibility. Several +runners were sent out, but failed to break through the besieging +forces. But at last after many desperate days there came a message +from without--a scrap of paper attached to a stone and flung over the +wall of the fort at night. News of the disaster had reached Peshawur, +and Sir Reginald Bassett, with a hastily collected force, was moving +to their assistance. + +The news put heart into the garrison, and for a time it seemed that +the worst would be averted. But it became gradually evident to General +Roscoe that the relieving force could not reach them in time. The +water supply had run very low, and the men were already subsisting +upon rations that were scarcely sufficient for the maintenance of +life. There was sickness among them, and there were also many wounded. +The white men were reduced to four, including himself, the native +soldiers had begun to desert, and he had been forced at last to face +the fact that the end was very near. + +All this had Muriel Roscoe come through, physically scathless, +mentally torn and battered, and she could not bring herself to realise +that the long-drawn-out misery of the siege could ever be over. + +Lying there, tense and motionless, she listened to the shots and yells +in the distance with a shuddering sense that it was all a part of her +life, of her very being, even. The torture and the misery had so eaten +into her soul. Now and then she heard the quick thunder of one of the +small guns that armed the fort, and at the sound her pulses leaped +and quivered. She knew that the ammunition was running very low. These +guns did not often speak now. + +Then, during a lull, there came to her the careless humming of a +British voice, the free, confident tread of British feet, approaching +her door. + +She caught her breath as a hand rapped smartly upon the panel. She +knew who the visitor was, but she could not bring herself to bid him +enter. A sudden awful fear was upon her. She could neither speak nor +move. She lay, listening intently, hoping against hope that he would +believe her to be sleeping and go away. + +The knock was not repeated. Dead silence reigned. And then quickly +and decidedly the door opened, and Nick Ratcliffe stood upon the +threshold. The light struck full upon his face as he halted--a clever, +whimsical face that might mask almost any quality good or bad. + +"May I come in, Miss Roscoe?" he asked. + +For she had not moved at his appearance. She lay as one dead. But as +he spoke she uncovered her face, and terror incarnate stared wildly at +him from her starting eyes. He entered without further ceremony, +and closed the door behind him. In the shaded lamplight his features +seemed to twitch as if he wanted to smile. So at least it seemed to +her wrought-up fancy. + +He gazed greedily at the plate of rice on the table as he came +forward. "Great Jupiter!" he said. "What a sumptuous repast!" + +The total freedom from all anxiety or restraint with which he made +this simple observation served to restore to some degree the girl's +tottering self-control. She sat up, sufficiently recovered to remember +that she did not like this man. + +"Pray have some if you want it," she said coldly. + +He turned his back on it abruptly. "No, don't tempt me," he said. +"It's a fast day for me. I'm acquiring virtue, being conspicuously +destitute of all other forms of comfort. Why don't you eat it +yourself? Are you acquiring virtue too?" + +He stood looking down at her quizzically, under rapidly flickering +eyelids. She sat silent, wishing with all her heart that he would go +away. + +Nothing, however, was apparently further from his thoughts. After a +moment he sat down in the chair that her father had occupied an hour +before. It was very close to her, and she drew herself slightly +away with a small, instinctive movement of repugnance. But Nick was +sublimely impervious to hints. + +"I say, you know," he said abruptly, "you shouldn't take opium. Your +donkey of an _ayah_ ought to know better than to let you have it." + +Muriel gave a great start. "I don't"--she faltered. "I--I--" + +He shook his head at her, as though reproving a child. "Pussy's out," +he observed. "It is no good giving chase. But really, you know, you +mustn't do it. You used to be a brave girl once, and now your nerves +are all to pieces." + +There was a species of paternal reproach in his tone. Looking at him, +she marvelled that she had ever thought him young and headlong. Almost +in spite of herself she began to murmur excuses. + +"I can't help it. I must have something. I don't sleep. I lie for +hours, listening to the fighting. It--it's more than I can bear." +Her voice quivered, and she turned her face aside, unable to hide her +emotion, but furious with herself for displaying it. + +Nick said nothing at all to comfort her, and she bitterly resented +his silence. After a pause he spoke again, as if he had banished the +matter entirely from his mind. + +"Look here," he said. "I want you to tell me something. I don't know +what sort of a fellow you think I am, though I fancy you don't like +me much. But you're not afraid of me, are you? You know I'm to be +trusted?" + +It was her single chance of revenge, and she took it. "I have my +father's word for it," she said. + +He nodded thoughtfully as if unaware of the thrust. "Yes, your father +knows me. And so"--he smiled at her suddenly--"you are ready to trust +me on his recommendation? You are ready to follow me blindfold through +danger if I give you my hand to hold?" + +She felt a sharp chill strike her heart. What was it he was asking of +her? What did those words of his portend? + +"I don't know," she said. "I don't see that it makes much difference +how I feel." + +"Well, it does," he assured her. "And that is exactly what I have +come to talk about. Miss Roscoe, will you leave the fort with me, +and escape in disguise? I have thought it all out, and it can be done +without much difficulty. I do not need to tell you that the idea has +your father's full approval." + +They were her father's own words, but at sound of them she shrank +and shivered, in sheer horror at the coolness with which they were +uttered. He might have been asking her to stroll with him in the leafy +quiet of some English lane. + +Could it be, she asked herself incredulously, could it be that her +father had ever sanctioned and approved so ghastly a risk for her? She +put her hand to her temples. Her brain was reeling. How could she do +this thing? How could she have permitted it to be even suggested to +her? And then, swift through her tortured mind flashed his words: +"There will be an end. I have had to face it to-night." Was it this +that he had meant? Was it for this that he had been preparing her? + +With a muffled exclamation she rose, trembling in every limb. "I +can't!" she cried piteously, "oh, I can't! Please go away!" + +It might have been the frightened prayer of a child, so beseeching +was it, so full of weakness. But Nick Ratcliffe heard it unmoved. He +waited a few seconds till she came to a stand by the table, her back +towards him. Then with a sudden quiet movement he rose and followed +her. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "But you can't afford to shirk things +at this stage. I am offering you deliverance, though you don't realise +it." + +He spoke with force, and if his aim had been to rouse her to a more +practical activity, he gained his end. She turned upon him in swift +and desperate indignation. Her voice rang almost harsh. + +"How can you call it deliverance? It is at best a choice of two +horrible evils. You know perfectly well that we could never get +through. You must be mad to suggest such a thing. We should be made +prisoners and massacred under the very guns of the fort." + +"I beg your pardon," he said again, and his eyelids quivered a little +as if under the pressure of some controlled emotion. "We shall not be +made prisoners. I know what I am saying. It is deliverance that I am +offering you. Of course you can refuse, and I shall still do my +utmost to save you. But the chances are not equal. I hope you will not +refuse." + +The moderation of this speech calmed her somewhat. In her first wild +panic she had almost imagined that he could take her against her will. +She saw that she had been unreasonable, but she was too shaken to tell +him so. Moreover, there was still that about him, notwithstanding his +words, that made her afraid to yield a single inch of ground lest by +some hidden means he should sweep her altogether from her precarious +foothold. Even in the silence, she felt that he was doing battle with +her, and she did not dare to face him. + +With a childish gesture of abandonment, she dropped into a chair and +laid her head upon her arms. + +"Oh, please go away!" she besought him weakly. "I am so tired--so +tired." + +But Ratcliffe did not move. He stood looking down at her, at the black +hair that clustered about her neck, at the bowed, despairing figure, +the piteous, clenched hands. + +A little clock in the room began to strike in silvery tones, and he +glanced up. The next instant he bent and laid a bony hand upon her two +clasped ones. + +"Can't you decide?" he said. "Will you let me decide for you? Don't +let yourself get scared. You have kept so strong till now." Firmly +as he spoke, there was somehow a note of soothing in his voice, and +almost insensibly the girl was moved by it. She remained silent and +motionless, but the strong grip of his fingers comforted her subtly +notwithstanding. + +"Come," he said, "listen a moment and let me tell you my plan of +campaign. It is very simple, and for that reason it is going to +succeed. You are listening now?" + +His tone was vigorous and insistent. Muriel sat slowly up in response +to it. She looked down at the thin hand that grasped hers, and +wondered at its strength; but she lacked the spirit at that moment to +resent its touch. + +He leaned down upon the table, his face close to hers, and began to +unfold his plan. + +"We shall leave the fort directly the moon is down. I have a disguise +for you that will conceal your face and hair. And I shall fake as a +tribesman, so that my dearest friend would never recognise me. They +will be collecting the wounded in the dark, and I will carry you +through on my shoulder as if I had got a dead relation. You won't +object to playing a dead relation of mine?" + +He broke into a sudden laugh, but sobered instantly when he saw her +shrink at the sound. + +"That's about all the plan," he resumed. "There is nothing very +alarming about it, for they will never spot us in the dark. I'm as +yellow as a Chinaman already. We shall be miles away by morning. And I +know how to find my way afterwards." + +He paused, but Muriel made no comment. She was staring straight before +her. + +"Can you suggest any amendments?" he asked. + +She turned her head and looked at him with newly-roused aversion in +her eyes. She had summoned all her strength to the combat, realising +that now was the moment for resistance if she meant to resist. + +"No, Mr. Ratcliffe," she said, with a species of desperate firmness +very different from his own. "I have nothing to suggest. If you wish +to escape, you must go alone. It is quite useless to try to persuade +me any further. Nothing--nothing will induce me to leave my father." + +Whether or not he had expected this opposition was not apparent on +Nick's face. It betrayed neither impatience nor disappointment. + +"There would be some reason in that," he gravely rejoined, "if you +could do any good to your father by remaining. Of course I see your +point, but it seems to me that it would be harder for him to see you +starve with the rest of the garrison than to know that you had escaped +with me. A woman in your position is bound to be a continual burden +and anxiety to those who protect her. The dearer she is to them, so +much the heavier is the burden. Miss Roscoe, you must see this. You +are not an utter child. You must realise that to leave your father +is about the greatest sacrifice you can make for him at the present +moment. He is worn out with anxiety on your behalf, literally bowed +down by it. For his sake, you are going to do this thing, it being the +only thing left that you can do for him." + +There was more than persuasion in his voice. It held authority. But +Muriel heard it without awe. She had passed that stage. The matter +was too momentous to allow of weakness. She had strung herself to the +highest pitch of resistance as a hunted creature at bay. She threw +back her head, a look of obstinacy about her lips, her slight figure +straightened to the rigidity of defiance. + +"I will not be forced," she said, in sharp, uneven tones. "Mr. +Ratcliffe, you may go on persuading and arguing till doomsday. I will +not leave my father." + +Ratcliffe stood up abruptly. A curious glitter shone in his eyes, and +the light eyebrows twitched a little. She felt that he had suddenly +ceased to do battle with her, yet that the victory was not hers. And +for a second she was horribly frightened, as though an iron trap had +closed upon her and held her at his mercy. + +He walked to the door without speaking and opened it. She expected +him to go, sat waiting breathlessly for his departure, but instead he +stood motionless, looking into the dark passage. + +She wondered with nerves on edge what he was waiting for. Suddenly +she heard a step without, a few murmured words, and Nick stood on one +side. Her father's Sikh orderly passed him, carrying a tray on which +was a glass full of some dark liquid. He set it down on the table +before her with a deep salaam. + +"The General Sahib wishes Missy Sahib to have a good night," he said. +"He cannot come to her himself, but he sends her this by his servant, +and he bids her drink it and sleep." + +Muriel looked up at the man in surprise. Her father had never done +such a thing before, and the message astonished her not a little. +Then, remembering that he had shown some anxiety regarding her +appearance that evening, she fancied she began to understand. Yet +it was strange, it was utterly unlike him, to desire her to take an +opiate. She looked at the glass with hesitation. + +"Give him my love, Purdu," she said finally to the waiting orderly. +"Tell him I will take it if I cannot sleep without." + +The man bowed himself again and withdrew. To her disgust, however, +Nick remained. He was looking at her oddly. + +"Miss Roscoe," he said abruptly, "I beg you, don't drink that +stuff. Your father must be mad to offer it to you. Let me take the +beastliness away." + +She faced him indignantly. "My father knows what is good for me better +than you do," she said. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't profess to be a sage. But any +one will tell you that it is madness to take opium in this reckless +fashion. For Heaven's sake, be reasonable. Don't take it." + +He came back to the table, but at his approach she laid her hand upon +the glass. She was quivering with angry excitement. + +"I will not endure your interference any longer," she declared, goaded +to headlong, nervous fury by his persistence. "My father's wishes are +enough for me. He desires me to take it, and so I will." + +She took up the glass in a sudden frenzy of defiance. He had +frightened her--yes, he had frightened her--but he should see how +little he had gained by that. She took a taste of the liquid, then +paused, again assailed by a curious hesitancy. Had her father really +meant her to take it all? + +Nick had stopped short at her first movement, but as she began to +lower the glass in response to that disquieting doubt, he swooped +suddenly forward like a man possessed. + +For a fleeting instant she thought he was going to wrest it from her, +but in the next she understood--understood the man's deep treachery, +and with what devilish ingenuity he had worked upon her. Holding her +with an arm that felt like iron, he forced the glass back between her +teeth, and tilted the contents down her throat. She strove to resist +him, strove wildly, frantically, not to swallow the draught. But he +held her pitilessly. He compelled her, gripping her right hand with +the glass, and pinning the other to her side. + +When it was over, when he had worked his will and the hateful draught +was swallowed, he set her free and turned himself sharply from her. + +She sprang up trembling and hysterical. She could have slain him in +that instant had she possessed the means to her hand. But her strength +was more nearly exhausted than she knew. Her limbs doubled up under +her weight, and as she tottered, seeking for support, she realised +that she was vanquished utterly at last. + +She saw him wheel quickly and start to support her, sought to evade +him, failed--and as she felt his arms lift her, she cried aloud in +anguished helplessness. + +What followed dwelt ever after in her memory as a hideous dream, vivid +yet not wholly tangible. He laid her down upon the couch and bent over +her, his hands upon her, holding her still; for every muscle, every +nerve twitched spasmodically, convulsively, in the instinctive effort +of the powerless body to be free. She had a confused impression also +that he spoke to her, but what he said she was never able to recall. +In the end, her horror faded, and she saw him as through a mist +bending above her, grim and tense and silent, controlling her as it +were from an immense distance. And even while she yet dimly wondered, +he passed like a shadow from her sight, and wonder itself ceased. + +Half an hour later Nicholas Ratcliffe, the wit and clown of his +regiment, regarded by many as harebrained or wantonly reckless, +carried away from the beleaguered fort among the hostile mountains the +slight, impassive figure of an English girl. + +The night was dark, populated by terrors alive and ghastly. But he +went through it as one unaware of its many dangers. Light-footed and +fearless, he passed through the midst of his enemies, marching with +the sublime audacity of the dominant race, despising caution--yea, +grinning triumphant in the very face of Death. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DESOLATION + + +Out of a deep abyss of darkness in which she seemed to have wandered +ceaselessly and comfortlessly for many days, Muriel Roscoe came +haltingly back to the surface of things. She was very weak, so weak +that to open her eyes was an exertion requiring all her resolution, +and to keep them open during those first hours of returning life a +physical impossibility. She knew that she was not alone, for gentle +hands ministered to her, and she was constantly aware of some one who +watched her tirelessly, with never-failing attention. But she felt +not the smallest interest regarding this faithful companion, being +too weary to care whether she lived or fell away for ever down those +unending steeps up which some unseen influence seemed magnetically to +draw her. + +It was a stage of returning consciousness that seemed to last even +longer than the period of her wandering, but this also began to pass +at length. The light grew stronger all about her, the mists rolled +slowly away from her clogged brain, leaving only a drowsing languor +that was infinitely restful to her tired senses. + +And then while she lay half-dreaming and wholly content, a remorseless +hand began to bathe her face and head with ice-cold water. She awoke +reluctantly, even resentfully. + +"Don't!" she entreated like a child. "I am so tired. Let me sleep." + +"My poor dear, I know all about it," a motherly voice made answer. +"But it's time for you to wake." + +She did not grasp the words--only, very vaguely, their meaning; and +this she made a determined, but quite fruitless, effort to defy. In +the end, being roused in spite of herself, she opened her eyes and +gazed upwards. + +And all his life long Nick Ratcliffe remembered the reproach that +those eyes held for him. It was as if he had laid violent hands upon a +spirit that yearned towards freedom, and had dragged it back into the +sordid captivity from which it had so nearly escaped. + +But it was only for a moment that she looked at him so. The reproach +faded swiftly from the dark eyes and he saw a startled horror dawn +behind it. + +Suddenly she raised herself with a faint cry. "Where am I?" she +gasped. "What--what have you done with me?" + +She stared around her wildly, with unreasoning, nightmare terror. She +was lying on a bed of fern in a narrow, dark ravine. The place was +full of shadow, though far overhead she saw the light of day. At one +end, only a few yards from her, a stream rushed and gurgled among +great boulders, and its insistent murmur filled the air. Behind her +rose a great wall of grey rock, clothed here and there with some dark +growth. Its rugged face was dented with hollows that looked like the +homes of wild animals. There was a constant trickle of water on all +sides, an eerie whispering, remote but incessant. As she sat there in +growing panic, a great bat-like creature, immense and shadowy, swooped +soundlessly by her. + +She shrank back with another cry, and found Nick Ratcliffe's arm +thrust protectingly about her. + +"It's all right," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You're not +frightened at flying-foxes, are you?" + +Recalled to the fact of his presence, she turned sharply, and flung +his arm away as though it had been a snake. "Don't touch me!" she +gasped, passionate loathing in voice and gesture. + +"Sorry," said Nick imperturbably. "I meant well." + +He began to busy himself with a small bundle that lay upon the ground, +whistling softly between his teeth, and for a few seconds Muriel sat +and watched him. He was dressed in a flowing native garment, that +covered him from head to foot. Out of the heavy enveloping folds his +smooth, yellow face looked forth, sinister and terrible to her fevered +vision. He looked like some evil bird, she thought to herself. + +Glancing down, she saw that she was likewise attired, save that +her head was bare. The hair hung wet on her forehead, and the water +dripped down her face. She put up her hand half-mechanically to wipe +the drops away. Her fear was mounting rapidly higher. + +She knew now what had happened. He had drugged her forcibly--she +shivered at the remembrance--and had borne her away to this dreadful +place during her unconsciousness. Her father was left behind in the +fort. He had sanctioned her removal. He had given her, a helpless +captive, into this man's keeping. + +But no! Her whole soul rose up in sudden fierce denial of this. He +had never done this thing. He had never given his consent to an act so +cowardly and so brutal. He was incapable of parting with her thus. He +could never have permitted so base a trick, so cruel, so outrageous, a +deed of treachery. + +Strength came suddenly to her--the strength of frenzy. She leaped to +her feet. She would escape. She would go back to him through all +the hordes of the enemy. She would face anything--anything in the +world--rather than remain at the mercy of this man. + +But--he had not been looking at her, and he did not look at her,--his +arm shot out as she moved, and his hand fastened claw-like upon her +dress. + +"Sorry," he said again, in the same practical tone. "But you'll have +something to eat before you go." + +She stooped and strove wildly, frantically, to shake off the detaining +hand. But it held her like a vice, with awful skeleton fingers that +she could not, dared not, touch. + +"Let me go!" she cried impotently. "How dare you? How dare you?" + +Still he did not raise his head. He was on his knees, and he would not +even trouble himself to rise. + +"I can't help myself," he told her coolly. "It's not my fault. It's +yours." + +She made a final, violent effort to wrest herself free. And then--it +was as if all power were suddenly taken from her--her strained nerves +gave way completely, and she dropped down upon the ground again in a +quivering agony of helplessness. + +Nick's hand fell away from her. "You shouldn't," he said gently. "It's +no good, you know." + +He returned to his former occupation while she sat with her face +hidden, in a stupor of fear, afraid to move lest he should touch her +again. + +"Now," said Nick, after a brief pause, "let me have the pleasure of +seeing you break your fast. There is some of that excellent boiled +rice of yours here. You will feel better when you have had some." + +She trembled at the sound of his voice. Could he make her eat also +against her will, she wondered? + +"Come!" said Nick again, in a tone of soft wheedling that he might +have employed to a fractious child. "It'll do you good, you know, +Muriel. Won't you try? Just a mouthful--to please me!" + +Reluctantly she uncovered her face, and looked at him. He was kneeling +in front of her, the _chuddah_ pushed back from his face, humbly +offering her an oatmeal biscuit with a small heap of rice piled upon +it. + +She drew back shuddering. "I couldn't eat anything--possibly," she +said, and even her voice seemed to shrink. "You can. You take it. I +would rather die." + +Nick did not withdraw his hand. "Take it, Muriel," he said quietly. +"It is going to do you good." + +She flashed him a desperate glance in which anger, fear, abhorrence, +were strongly mingled. He advanced the biscuit a little nearer. There +was a queer look on his yellow face, almost a bullying look. + +"Take it," he said again. + +And against her will, almost without conscious movement, she obeyed +him. The untempting morsel passed from his hand to hers, and under the +compulsion of his insistence she began to eat. + +She felt as if every mouthful would choke her, but she persevered, +urged by the dread certainty that he would somehow have his way. + +Not until the last fragment was gone did she feel his vigilance relax, +but he ate nothing himself though there remained several biscuits and +a very little of the rice. + +"You are feeling better?" he asked her then. + +A curious suspicion that he was waiting to tell her something made +her answer almost feverishly in the affirmative. It amounted to a +premonition of evil tidings, and instinctively her thoughts flew to +her father. + +"What is it?" she questioned nervously. "You have something to say." + +Nick's face was turned from her. He seemed to be gazing across the +ravine. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment. + +"Oh, what?" she broke in. "Tell me quickly--quickly! It is my father, +I know, I know. He has been hurt--wounded--" + +She stopped. Nick had lifted one hand as if to silence her. "My dear," +he said, his voice very low, "your father died last night--before we +left the fort." + +At her cry of agony he started up, and in a second he was on his +knees by her side and had gathered her to him as though she had been +a little child in need of comfort. She did not shrink from him in her +extremity. The blow had been too sudden, too overwhelming. It blotted +out all lesser sensibilities. In those first terrible moments she +did not think of Nick at all, was scarcely conscious of his presence, +though she vaguely felt the comfort of his arms. + +And he, holding her fast against his breast, found no consolation, no +word of any sort wherewith to soothe her. He only rocked her gently, +pressing her head to his shoulder, while his face, bent above her, +quivered all over as the face of a man in torture. + +Muriel spoke at last, breaking her stricken silence with a strangely +effortless composure. "Tell me more," she said. + +She stirred in his arms as if to free herself from some oppression, +and finally drew herself away from him, though not as if she wished to +escape his touch. She still seemed to be hardly aware of him. He was +the medium of her information, that was all. Nick dropped back into +his former attitude, his hands clasped firmly round his knees, his +eyes, keen as a bird's and extremely bright, gazing across the ravine. +His lips still quivered a little, but his voice was perfectly even and +quiet. + +"It happened very soon after the firing began. It must have been +directly after he left you. He was hit in the breast, just over the +heart. We couldn't do anything for him. He knew himself that it was +mortal. In fact, I think he had almost expected it. We took him into +the guardroom and made him as easy as possible. He lost consciousness +before he died. He was lying unconscious when I came to you." + +Muriel made a sharp movement. "And you never told me," she said, in a +dry whisper. + +"I thought it best," he answered with great gentleness. "You could not +have gone to him. He didn't wish it." + +"Why not?" she demanded, and suddenly her voice rang harsh again. "Why +could I not have gone to him? Why didn't he wish it?" + +Nick hesitated for a single instant. Then, "It was for your own sake," +he said, not looking at her. + +"You mean he suffered?" + +"While he remained conscious--yes." Nick spoke reluctantly. "It didn't +last long," he said. + +She scarcely seemed to hear him. "And so you tricked me," she said; +"you tricked me while my father was lying dying. I was not to see +him--either then or after--for my own sake! And do you think"--her +voice rising--"do you think that you were in any way justified in +treating me so? Do you think it was merciful to blind me and to take +from me all I should ever have of comfort to look back upon? Do you +think I couldn't have borne it all ten thousand times easier if I +could have seen and known the very worst? It was my right--it was +my right! How dared you take it from me? I will never forgive +you--never!" + +She was on her feet as the passionate protest burst from her, but she +swayed as she stood and flung out her arms with a groping gesture. + +"I could have borne it," she cried again wildly, piteously. "I could +have borne anything--anything--if I had only known!" + +She broke into a sudden, terrible sobbing, and threw herself +down headlong upon the earth, clutching at the moss with shaking, +convulsive fingers, and crying between her sobs for "Daddy! Daddy!" as +though her agony could pierce the dividing barrier and bring him +back to her. Nick made no further attempt to help her. He sat gazing +stonily out before him in a sphinx-like stillness that never varied +while the storm of her anguish spent itself at his side. + +Even after her sobs had ceased from sheer exhaustion he made no +movement, no sign that he was so much as thinking of her. + +Only when at last she raised herself with difficulty, and put the +heavy hair back from her disfigured face, did he turn slightly and +hold out to her a small tin cup. + +"It's only water," he said gently. "Have some." + +She took it almost mechanically and drank, then lay back with closed +eyes and burning head, sick and blinded by her paroxysm of weeping. + +A little later she felt his hands moving about her again, but she was +too spent to open her eyes. He bathed her face with a care equal to +any woman's, smoothed back her hair, and improvised a pillow for her +head. + +And afterwards she knew that he sat down by her, out of sight but +close at hand, a silent presence watching over her, till at last, worn +out with grief and the bitter strain of the past weeks, she sank into +natural, dreamless slumber, and slept for hours. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS + + +It was dark when Muriel awoke--so dark that she lay for a while +dreamily fancying herself in bed. But this illusion passed very +quickly as her brain, refreshed and active, resumed its work. The cry +of a jackal at no great distance roused her to full consciousness, and +she started up in the chill darkness, trembling and afraid. + +Instantly a warm hand grasped hers, and a low voice spoke. "It's all +right," said Nick. "I'm here." + +"Oh, isn't it dark?" she said. "Isn't it dark?" + +"Don't be frightened," he answered gently. "Come close to me. You are +cold." + +She crept to him shivering, thankful for the shielding arm he threw +around her. + +"The sunrise can't be far off," he said. "I expect you are hungry, +aren't you?" + +She was very hungry, and he put a biscuit into her hand. The very fact +of eating there in the darkness in some measure reassured her. She ate +several biscuits, and began to feel much better. + +"Getting warmer?" questioned Nick. "Let me feel your hands." They were +still cold, and he took them and thrust them down against his breast. +She shrank a little at the touch of his warm flesh. + +"It will make you so cold," she murmured. + +But he only laughed at her softly, and pressed them closer. "I am not +easily chilled," he said. "Besides, it's sleeping that makes you cold. +And I haven't slept." + +Muriel heard the news with astonishment. She was no longer angry with +Nick, and her fears of him were dormant. Though she would never forget +and might never forgive his treachery, he was her sole protector in +that wilderness of many terrors, and she lacked the resolution to keep +him at arm's length. There was, moreover, something comforting in his +presence, something that vastly reassured her, making her lean upon +him almost in spite of herself. + +"Haven't you slept at all?" she asked him in wonder. "How in the world +did you keep awake?" + +He did not answer her, only laughed again as though at some secret +joke. He seemed to be in rather good spirits, she noticed, and she +marvelled at him with a heavy pain at her heart that was utterly +beyond expression or relief. + +She sat silent for a little, then at length withdrew her hands, +assuring him that they were quite warm. + +"And I want to talk to you," she added, in a more practical tone than +she had previously managed to assume. "Mr. Ratcliffe, you may be in +command of this expedition, but I think you ought to tell me your +plans." + +"Call me Nick, won't you?" he said. "It'll make things easier. You are +quite welcome to know my plans, such as they are. I haven't managed +to develop anything very ingenious during all these hours. You see we +are, to a certain extent, at the mercy of circumstances. This place +isn't more than a dozen miles from the fort, and the hills all round +are infested with tribesmen. I hoped at first that we should get clear +in the night, but you were asleep, and on the whole it seemed best to +lie up for another day. We might make a bolt for it to-morrow night if +all goes well. I have a sort of instinct for these mountains. There is +always plenty of cover for those who know how to find it. It will be +slow progress, of course, but we will keep moving south, and, given +luck, we may fall in with Bassett's relief column before many days." + +So with much serenity he disclosed his plans, and Muriel marvelled +afresh at the confidence that buoyed him up. Was he really as +sublimely free from anxiety as he wished her to believe, she wondered? +It was difficult to think otherwise, even though he had admitted that +they were governed by circumstance. She began to think that there was +magic in him, some hidden reserve force upon which he could always +draw when all other resources failed. + +Another matter had also caught her attention, and this she presently +decided to investigate. She had never thought of Nick Ratcliffe as in +any sense a remarkable person before. + +"Did you actually carry me ten miles?" she asked. + +"Something very near it," said Nick. + +"How in the world did you do it?" Her interest was quickened. +Undoubtedly there was something uncanny in this man's strength. + +"You're not very heavy, you know," he said. + +His arm was still around her, and she suffered it; for the darkness +still frightened her when she allowed herself to think. + +"Have you had anything to eat?" she asked him next. + +"Not quite lately," said Nick. "I've been smoking. I wonder you didn't +notice it." + +His tone was somehow repressive, but she ignored it with a growing +temerity. After all, he did not seem such an alarming person on a +nearer acquaintance. + +"Does smoking do as well as eating?" she asked. + +"Much better," said Nick promptly. "Care to try?" + +She shook her head in the darkness. "I don't think you are telling the +truth," she said. + +"What?" said Nick. + +He spoke carelessly, but she did not repeat her assertion. A sudden +shyness descended upon her, and she became silent. Nick was quiet too, +and she wondered what was passing in his mind. But for the tenseness +of the arm that encircled her, she could have believed him to be +dozing. The silence was becoming oppressive when abruptly he broke it. + +"See!" he said. "Here comes the dawn!" + +She started and stared in front of her, seeing nothing. + +"Over to your left," said Nick. And turning she beheld a lightening of +the darkness high above them. + +She breathed a sigh of thankfulness, and watched it grow. It spread +rapidly. The walls of the ravine showed ghostly grey, then faintly +pink. Through the dimness the boulders scattered about the stream +stood up like mediaeval monsters, and for a few panic-stricken seconds +Muriel took the twining roots of a rhododendron close at hand for the +coils of a gigantic snake. Then as the ordinary light of day filtered +down into the gloomy place she sighed again with relief, and looked at +her companion. + +He was sitting with his chin on his hand, gazing across the ravine. He +did not stir or glance in her direction. His yellow face was seamed in +a thousand wrinkles. + +A vague misgiving assailed her as she looked at him. There was +something unnatural in his stillness. + +"Nick!" she said at length with hesitation. + +He turned sharply, and in an instant the ready grin leaped out upon +his face. "Good morning," he said lightly. "I was just thinking how +nice it would be to go down there and have a wash. We've got to pass +the time somehow, you know. Will you go first?" + +His gaiety baffled her, but she did not feel wholly reassured. She got +up slowly, and as she did so, her attention was caught by something +that sent a thrill of dismay through her. + +"Don't look at my feet, please," said Nick. "They won't bear +inspection at present." + +She turned horrified eyes to his face, as he thrust them down into a +bunch of fern. "How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "They are all cut and +gashed. I didn't know you were barefooted." + +"I wasn't," said Nick. "I've got some sandals here. Don't look like +that! You make me want to cry. I assure you it doesn't hurt in the +least." + +He grinned again as he uttered this cheerful lie, but Muriel was not +deceived. + +"You must let me bind them up," she said. + +"Not for the world," laughed Nick. "I couldn't walk with my feet +in poultice-bags, and we shall have some more rough marching to do +to-night. Now don't you worry. Run along like a good girl. I'm going +to say my prayers." + +It was flippantly spoken, but Muriel realised that it would be better +to obey. She turned about slowly, and began to make her way down to +the stream. + +The sunlight was beginning to slant through the ravine, and here and +there the racing water gleamed silvery. It was intensely refreshing to +kneel and bathe face and hands in its icy coldness. She lingered long +over it. Its sparkling purity seemed to reach and still the throbbing +misery at her heart. In some fashion it brought her peace. + +She would have prayed, but she felt she had no prayer to offer. She +had no favour to ask for herself, and her world was quite empty now. +She had no one in her heart for whom to pray. + +Yet for awhile she knelt dumb among the lifeless stones, her face +hidden, her thoughts with the father whose loss she had scarcely +begun to realise. It might be that God would understand and pity her +silence, she thought drearily to herself. + +The rush of the water drowned all sound but its own, and the memory +of Nick, waiting above, faded from her consciousness like a dream. Her +brain felt numb and heavy still. She did not want to think. She leaned +her head against a rock, closing her eyes. The continuous babble of +the stream was like a lullaby. + +Under its soothing influence she might have slept, a blessed +drowsiness was stealing over her, when suddenly there flashed through +her being a swift warning of approaching danger. Whence it came she +knew not, but its urgency was such that instinctively she started up +and looked about her. + +The next instant, with a sound half-gasp, half-cry, she was on +her feet, and shrinking back against her sheltering boulder in the +paralysis of a great horror. There, within a few yards of her and +drawing nearer, ever nearer, with a beast-like stealth, was a tall, +black-bearded tribesman. Transfixed by terror, she stood and gazed +at him, waiting dumbly, cold from head to foot, feeling as though her +very heart had turned to stone. + +Nearer he came, and yet nearer, soundlessly over the stones. His eyes, +gleaming, devilish, were to her as the eyes of a devouring monster. +In her agony she tried to shriek aloud, but her voice was gone, her +throat seemed locked. She was powerless. + +Close to her, for a single instant he paused; then, as in a lightning +flash, she saw the narrow, sinewy hand and snake-like arm dart forward +to seize her, felt every muscle in her body stiffen to rigidity in +anticipation of its touch, and shrank--shrank in every nerve though +she made no outward sign of shrinking. + +But on the instant, with a panther-like spring, sure, noiseless, +deadly, another figure leapt suddenly across her vision. There +followed a violent struggle in front of her, a confused swaying to and +fro, a cry choked instantly and terribly, the tinkling sound of steel +falling upon stone. And then both figures were on the ground almost +at her feet, locked together in mortal combat, fighting, fighting +like demons in a silence that throbbed with the tumult of unrestrained +savagery. + +Later she never could remember how long it took her to realise that +the second apparition was Nick, or if she had known it from the first. +She felt herself hovering upon the brink of a great emptiness, a void +immense, and yet all her senses were alive and tingling with horror. +With agonised perception of what was passing, she yet felt numbed: as +though her body were dead, but still contained a vital, tortured soul. + +And it was thus that she presently saw Nick's face bent above the +black-bearded face of his enemy; and remembered suddenly and horribly +a picture she had once seen of the devil in the wilderness. + +With his knees he was gripping the writhing body of his fallen foe. +With his hands--it came upon her as she watched with a shock of +anguished comprehension--he was deliberately and with deadly intention +choking out the man's life. + +"Curse you! Die!" she heard him say and his voice sounded like the +snarl of a wild beast. His upper lip was drawn back, the lower one was +between his teeth, and from it the blood dripped continuously upon his +hands and upon the dark throat he gripped. + +"Give me that knife!" he suddenly said, with an upward jerk of the +head. + +A dagger was lying almost within his reach, close to her foot. She +could have kicked it towards him had not her body been fast bound in +that deathly inertia. But her whole soul rose up in wild revolt at +the order. She tried to cry out, to implore him to have mercy, but +she could not make a sound. She could only stand in frozen horror, and +witness this awful thing. + +She saw Nick shift his grip to one hand and reach out with the other +for the weapon. He grasped it and recovered himself. A great darkness +was descending upon her, but it did not come at once. It hovered +before her eyes, and seemed to pass, and again she saw the horror +at her feet; saw Nick, bent to destroy like an eagle above his prey, +merciless, full of strength, terrible; saw the man beneath him, +writhing, convulsed, tortured; saw his upturned face, and starting +eyes; saw the sudden downward swoop of Nick's right hand, the flash of +the descending steel. + +In her agony she burst the spell that bound her, and shrieking turned +to flee from that awful sight. + +But even as she moved, the darkness came suddenly back upon her, +enveloping her, overwhelming her--a darkness that could be felt. For +a little she fought against it frantically, impotently. Then her feet +seemed to totter over the edge of a dreadful, formless silence. She +knew that she fell. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL + + +"Wake up!" said Nick softly. "Wake up! Don't be afraid." + +But Muriel turned her face from the light with a moan. Memory winged +with horror was sweeping back upon her, and she wanted never to wake +again. + +"Wake up!" Nick said again, and this time there was insistence in his +voice. "Open your eyes, Muriel. There is nothing to frighten you." + +Shuddering, she obeyed him. She was lying once more upon her couch of +ferns, and he was stooping over her, looking closely into her face. +His eyes were extraordinarily bright, like the eyes of an eagle, but +the lids flickered so rapidly that he seemed to be looking through her +rather than at her. There was a wound upon his lower lip, and at the +sight she shuddered again, closing her eyes. She remembered that the +last time she had looked upon that face, it had been the face of a +devil. + +"Oh, go away! Go away!" she wailed. "Let me die!" + +"I will go away," he answered swiftly, "if you will promise to drink +what is in this cup." + +He pressed it against her hand, and she took it almost mechanically. +"It is only brandy and water," he said. "You will drink it?" + +"If I must," she answered weakly. + +"You must," he rejoined, and she heard him rise and move away. She +strained her ears to listen, but she very soon ceased to hear him; and +then raising herself cautiously, she drank. A warm thrill of life ran +through her veins with the draught, steadying her, refreshing her. But +it was long before she could bring herself to look round. + +The miniature roar of the stream was the only sound to be heard, and +when at length she glanced downwards there was no sign anywhere of +the ghastly spectacle she had just witnessed. She saw the rock behind +which she had knelt, and again a violent fit of shuddering assailed +her. What did that rock conceal? + +Nevertheless she presently took courage to rise, looking about her +furtively, half afraid that Nick might pop up at any moment to detain +her. For she felt that she could not stay longer in that place, +whatever he might say or do. The one idea that possessed her was to +get away from him, to escape from his horrible presence, whither she +neither knew nor cared. If he appeared to stop her then, she thought +that she would go raving mad. + +But she saw nothing of him as she stood there, and with deep relief +she began to creep away. Half a dozen yards she covered, and then +stood suddenly still with her heart in her throat. There, immediately +in front of her, flung prone upon the ground with his face on his +arms, was Nick. He did not move at her coming, did not seem to hear. +And the thought came to her to avoid him by a circuit, and yet escape. +But something--a queer, indefinable something--made her pause. Why was +he lying there? Had he been hurt in that awful struggle? Was he--was +he unconscious? Was he--dead? + +She fought back the impulse to fly, not for its unworthiness, but +because she felt that she must know. + +Trembling, she moved a little nearer to the prostrate, motionless +figure. + +"Nick!" she whispered under her breath. + +He made no sign. + +Her doubt turned to sudden, overmastering fear that pricked her +forward in spite of herself. + +"Nick!" she said again, and finding herself close to him she bent and +very slightly touched his shoulder. + +He moved then, and she almost gasped with relief. He turned his head +sharply without raising himself, and she saw the grim lines of his +lean cheek and jaw. + +"That you, Muriel?" he said, speaking haltingly, spasmodically. "I'm +awfully sorry. Fact is--I'm not well. I shall be--better--directly. Go +back, won't you?" + +He broke off, and lay silent, his hands clenched as if he were in +pain. + +Muriel stood looking down at him in consternation. It was her chance +to escape--a chance that might never occur again--but she had no +further thought of taking it. + +"What is it?" she asked him timidly, "Can I--do anything?" + +And then she suddenly saw what was the matter. It burst upon her--a +startling revelation. Possibly the sight of those skeleton fists +helped her to enlightenment. She turned swiftly and sped back to their +camping ground. + +In thirty seconds or less, she was back again and stooping over him +with a piece of brown bread in her hand. + +"Eat this," she ordered, in a tone of authority. + +Nick's face was hidden again. He seemed to be fighting with himself. +His voice came at length, muffled and indistinct. + +"No, no! Take it away! I'll have a drain of brandy. And I've got some +tobacco left." + +Muriel stooped lower. She caught the words though they were scarcely +audible. She laid her hand upon his arm, stronger in the moment's +emergency than she had been since leaving the fort. + +"You are to eat it," she said very decidedly. "You shall eat it. Do +you hear, Nick? I know what is the matter with you. You are starving. +I ought to have seen it before." + +Nick uttered a shaky laugh, and dragged himself up on to his elbows. +"I'm not starving," he declared. "Take it away, Muriel. Do you think +I'm going to eat your luncheon, tea, and dinner, and to-morrow's +breakfast as well?" + +"You are going to eat this," she answered. + +He flashed her a glance of keen curiosity. "Am I?" he said. + +"You must," she said, speaking with an odd vehemence which later +surprised herself. "Why should you go out of your way to tell me a +lie? Do you think I can't see?" + +Nick raised himself slowly. Something in the situation seemed to have +deprived him of his usual readiness. But he would not take the bread, +would not even look at it. + +"I'm better now," he said. "We'll go back." + +Muriel stood for a second irresolute, then sharply turned her back. +Nick sat and watched her in silence. Suddenly she wheeled. "There!" +she said. "I've divided it. You will eat this at least. It's absurd of +you to starve yourself. You might as well have stayed in the fort to +do that." + +This was unanswerable. Nick took the bread without further protest. +He began to eat, marvelling at his own docility; and suddenly he knew +that he was ravenous. + +There was very little left when at length he looked up. + +"Show me what you have saved for yourself," he said. + +But Muriel backed away with a short, hysterical laugh. + +He started to his feet and took her rudely by the shoulder. "Do +you mean to say--" he began, almost with violence; and then checked +himself, peering at her with fierce, uncertain eyes. + +She drew away from him, all her fears returning upon her in a flood; +but at her movement he set her free and turned his back. + +"Heaven knows what you did it for," he said, seeming to control his +voice with some difficulty. "It wasn't for your own sake, and I won't +presume to think it was for mine. But when the time comes for handing +round rewards, may it be remembered that your offering was something +more substantial than a cup of cold water." + +He broke off with a queer sound in the throat, and began to move away. + +But Muriel followed him, an unaccountable sense of responsibility +overcoming her reluctance. + +"Nick!" she said. + +He stood still without turning. She had a feeling that he was putting +strong restraint upon himself. With an effort she forced herself to +continue. + +"You want sleep, I know. Will you--will you lie down while I watch?" + +He shook his head without looking at her. + +"But I wish it," she persisted. "I can wake you if--anything happens." + +"You wouldn't dare," said Nick. + +"I suppose that means you are afraid to trust me," she said. + +He turned at that. "It means nothing of the sort. But you've had one +scare, and you may have another. I think myself that that fellow was +a scout on the look-out for Bassett's advance guard. But Heaven only +knows what brought him to this place, and there may be others. That's +why I didn't dare to shoot." + +He paused, his light eyebrows raised, surveying her questioningly; for +Muriel had suddenly covered her face with both hands. But in another +moment she looked up again, and spoke with an effort. + +"Your being awake couldn't lessen the danger. Won't you--please--be +reasonable about it? I am doing my best." + +There was a deep note of appeal in her voice, and abruptly Nick gave +in. + +He moved back to their resting-place without another word, and flung +himself face downwards beside the nest of fern that he had made for +her, lying stretched at full length like a log. + +She had not expected so sudden and complete a surrender. It took her +unawares, and she stood looking down at him, uncertain how to proceed. + +But after a few seconds he turned his head towards her and spoke. + +"You'll stay by me, Muriel?" + +"Of course," she answered, that unwonted sense of responsibility still +strongly urging her. + +He murmured something unintelligible, and stirred uneasily. She knew +in a flash what he wanted, but a sick sense of dread held her back. +She felt during the silence that followed as though he were pleading +with her, urging her, even entreating her. Yet still she resisted, +standing near him indeed, but with a desperate reluctance at her +heart, a shrinking unutterable from the bare thought of any closer +proximity to him that was as the instinctive recoil of purity from a +thing unclean. + +The horror of his deed had returned upon her over-whelmingly with his +brief reference to it. His lack of emotion seemed to her as hideous +callousness, more horrible than the deed itself. His physical +exhaustion had called her out of herself, but the reaction was doubly +terrible. + +Nick said no more. He lay quite motionless, hardly seeming to breathe, +and she realised that there was no repose in his attitude. He was not +even trying to rest. + +She wrung her hands together. It could not go on, this tension. Either +she must yield to his unspoken desire, or he would sit up and cry +off the bargain. And she knew that sleep was a necessity to him. +Common-sense told her that he was totally unfit for further hardship +without it. + +She closed her eyes a moment, summoning all her strength for the +greatest sacrifice she had ever made. And then in silence she sat down +beside him, within reach of his hand. + +He uttered a great sigh and suffered his whole body to relax. And she +knew by the action, though he did not speak a word, that she had set +his mind at rest. + +Scarcely a minute later, his quiet breathing told her that he slept, +but she sat on by his side without moving during the long empty hours +of her vigil. He had trusted her without a question, and, as her +father's daughter, she would at whatever cost prove herself worthy of +his trust. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE COMING OF AN ARMY + + +Through a great part of the night that followed they tramped steadily +southward. The stars were Nick's guide, though as time passed he began +to make his way with the confidence of one well-acquainted with his +surroundings. The instinct of locality was a sixth sense with him. +Hand in hand, over rocky ground, through deep ravines, by steep and +difficult tracks, they made their desperate way. Sometimes in the +distance dim figures moved mysteriously, revealed by starlight, +but none questioned or molested them. They passed from rock to rock +through the heart of the enemy's country, unrecognised, unobserved. +There were times when Nick grasped his revolver under his disguise, +ready, ready at a moment's notice, to keep his word to the girl's +father, should detection be their portion; but each time as the danger +passed them by he tightened his hold upon her, drawing her forward +with greater assurance. + +They scarcely spoke throughout the long, long march. Muriel had moved +at first with a certain elasticity, thankful to escape at last from +the horrors of their resting-place. But very soon a great weariness +came upon her. She was physically unfit for any prolonged exertion. +The long strain of the siege had weakened her more than she knew. + +Nevertheless, she kept on bravely, uttering no complaint, urged to +utmost effort by the instinctive desire to escape. It was this one +idea that occupied all her thoughts during that night. She shrank with +a vivid horror from looking back. And she could not see into the dim +blank future. It was mercifully screened from her sight. + +At her third heavy stumble, Nick stopped and made her swallow some +raw brandy from his flask. This buoyed her up for a while, but it was +evident to them both that her strength was fast failing. And presently +he stopped again, and without a word lifted her in his arms. She +gasped a protest to which he made no response. His arms compassed +her like steel, making her feel helpless as an infant. He was limping +himself, she noticed; yet he bore her strongly, without faltering, +sure-footed as a mountain goat over the broken ground, till he found +at length what he deemed a safe halting-place in a clump of stunted +trees. + +The sunrise revealed a native village standing among rice and cotton +fields in the valley below them. + +"I shall have to go foraging," Nick said. + +But Muriel's nerves that had been tottering on the verge of +collapse for some time here broke down completely. She clung to him +hysterically and entreated him not to leave her. + +"I can't bear it! I can't bear it!" she kept reiterating. "If you go, +I must go too. I can't--I can't stay here alone." + +He gave way instantly, seeing that she was in a state of mind that +bordered upon distraction, and that he could not safely leave her. He +sat down beside her, therefore, making her as comfortable as he could; +and she presently slept with her head upon his shoulder. It was but +a broken slumber, however, and she awoke from it crying wildly that +a man was being murdered--murdered--murdered--and imploring him with +agonised tears to intervene. + +He quieted her with a steady insistence that gained its end, though +she crouched against him sobbing for some time after. As the sun rose +higher her fever increased, but she remained conscious and suffering +intensely, all through the heat of the day. Then, as the evening drew +on, she slipped into a heavy stupor. + +It was the opportunity Nick had awaited for hours, and he seized it. +Laying her back in the deep shadow of a boulder, he went swiftly down +into the valley. The last light was passing as he strode through the +village, a gaunt, silent figure in a hillman's dress, a native dagger +in his girdle. Save that he had pulled the _chuddah_ well over his +face, he attempted no concealment. + +He glided by a ring of old men seated about a fire, moving like a +shadow through the glare. They turned to view him, but he had already +passed with the tread of a wolf, and the mud wall of one of the +cottages hid him from sight. + +Into this hut he dived as though some instinct guided him. He paid no +heed to a woman on a string-bedstead with a baby at her breast, who +chattered shrilly at his entrance. Preparations for a meal were +in progress, and he scarcely paused before he lighted upon what he +sought. A small earthen pitcher stood on the mud floor. He swooped +upon it, caught it up, splashing milk in all directions, clapped his +hand yellow and claw-like upon the mouth, and was gone. + +There arose a certain hue and cry behind him, but he was swiftly +beyond detection, a fleeing shadow up the hillside. And the baffled +villagers, returning, found comfort in the reflection that he was +doubtless a holy man and that his brief visit would surely entail a +blessing. + +By the time they arrived at this conclusion, Nick was kneeling by the +girl's side, supporting her while she drank. The nourishment revived +her. She came to herself, and thanked him. + +"You will have some too," said she anxiously. + +And Nick drank also with a laugh and a joke to cloak his eagerness. +That draught of milk was more to him at that moment than the choicest +wine of the gods. + +He sat down beside her again when he had thus refreshed himself. He +thought that she was drowsy, and was surprised when presently she laid +a trembling hand upon his arm. + +He bent over her quickly. "What is it? Anything I can do?" + +She did not shrink from him any longer. He could but dimly see her +face in the strong shadow cast by the moonlight behind the trees. + +"I want just to tell you, Nick," she said faintly, "that you will have +to go on without me when the moon sets. You needn't mind about leaving +me any more. I shall be dead before the morning comes. I'm not afraid. +I think I'm rather glad. I am so very, very tired." + +Her weak voice failed. + +Nick was stooping low over her. He did not speak at once. He only took +the nerveless hand that lay upon his arm and carried it to his lips, +breathing for many seconds upon the cold fingers. + +When at length he spoke, his tone was infinitely gentle, but it +possessed, notwithstanding, a certain quality of arresting force. + +"My dear," he said, "you belong to me now, you know. You have been +given into my charge, and I am not going to part with you." + +She did not resist him or attempt to withdraw her hand, but her +silence was scarcely the silence of acquiescence. When she spoke again +after a long pause, there was a piteous break in her voice. + +"Why don't you let me die? I want to die. Why do you hold me back?" + +"Why?" said Nick swiftly. "Do you really want me to tell you why?" + +But there he checked himself with a sharp, indrawn breath. The next +instant he laid her hand gently down. + +"You will know some day, Muriel," he said. "But for the present you +will have to take my reason on trust. I assure you it is a very good +one." + +The restraint of his words was marked by a curious vehemence, but this +she was too ill at the time to heed. She turned her face away almost +fretfully. + +"Why should I live?" she moaned. "There is no one wants me now." + +"That will never be true while I live," Nick answered steadily, and +his tone was the tone of a man who registers a vow. + +But again she did not heed him. She had suffered too acutely and +too recently to be comforted by promises. Moreover, she did not want +consolation. She wanted only to shut her eyes and die. In her weakness +she had not fancied that he could deny her this. + +And so when presently he roused her by lifting her to resume the +journey, she shed piteous tears upon his shoulder, imploring him to +leave her where she was. He would not listen to her. He knew that it +was highly dangerous to rest so close to habitation, and he would not +risk another day in such precarious shelter. + +So for hours he carried her with a strength almost superhuman, forcing +his physical powers into subjection to his will. Though limping badly, +he covered several miles of wild and broken country, deserted for the +most part, almost incredibly lonely, till towards sunrise he found a +resting-place in a hollow high up the side of a mountain, overlooking +a winding, desolate pass. + +Muriel was either sleeping or sunk in the stupor of exhaustion. There +was some brandy left in his flask, and he made her take a little. But +it scarcely roused her, and she was too weak to notice that he did not +touch any himself. + +All through the scorching day that followed, she dozed and woke in +feverish unrest, sometimes rambling incoherently till he brought her +gravely back, sometimes crying weakly, sometimes making feeble efforts +to pray. + +All through the long, burning hours he never stirred away from her. He +sat close to her, often holding her in his arms, for she seemed less +restless so; and perpetually he gazed out with terrible, bloodshot +eyes over the savage mountains, through the long, irregular line of +pass, watching eagle-like, tireless and intent, for the deliverance +which, if it came at all, must come that way. His face was yellow and +sunken, lined in a thousand wrinkles like the face of a monkey; but +his eyes remained marvellously bright. They looked as if they had not +slept for years, as if they would never sleep again. He was at the end +of his resources and he knew it, but he would watch to the very end. +He would die watching. + +As the sun sank in a splendour that transfigured the eternally white +mountain-crest to a mighty shimmer of rose and gold, he turned at last +and looked down at the white face pillowed upon his arm. The eyes were +closed. The ineffable peace of Death seemed to dwell upon the quiet +features. She had lain so for a long time, and he had fancied her +sleeping. + +He caught his breath, feeling for his flask, and for the first time +his hands shook uncontrollably. But as the raw spirit touched her +lips, he saw her eyelids quiver, and a great gasp of relief went +through him. As she opened her eyes he stayed his hand. It seemed +cruel to bring her back. But the suffering and the half instinctive +look of horror passed from her eyes like a shadow, as they rested upon +him. There was even the very faint flicker of a smile about them. + +She turned her face slightly towards him with the gesture of a child +nestling against his breast. Yet though she lay thus in his arms, he +felt keenly, bitterly, that she was very far away from him. + +He hung over her, still holding himself in with desperate strength, +not daring to speak lest he should disturb the holy peace that seemed +to be drawing all about her. + +The sunset glory deepened. For a few seconds the crags above them +glittered golden as the peaks of Paradise. And in the wonderful +silence Muriel spoke. + +"Do you see them?" she said. + +He saw that her eyes were turned upon the shining mountains. There was +a strange light on her face. + +"See what, darling?" he asked her softly. + +Her eyes came back to him for a moment. They had a thoughtful, +wondering look. + +"How strange!" she said slowly. "I thought it was--an eagle." + +The detachment of her tone cut him to the heart. And suddenly the pain +of it was more than he could bear. + +"It is I--Nick," he told her, with urgent emphasis. "Surely you know +me!" + +But her eyes had passed beyond him again. "Nick?" she questioned to +herself. "Nick? But this--this was an eagle." + +She was drawing away from him, and he could not hold her, could not +even hope to follow her whither she went. A great sob broke from him, +and in a moment, like the rush of an overwhelming flood from behind +gates long closed, the anguish of the man burst its bonds. + +"Muriel!" he cried passionately. "Muriel! Stay with me, look at +me, love me! There is nothing in the mountains to draw you. It is +here--here beside you, touching you, holding you. O God," he prayed +brokenly, "she doesn't understand me. Let her understand,--open her +eyes,--make her see!" + +His agony reached her, touched her, for a moment held her. She turned +her eyes back to his tortured face. + +"But, Nick," she said softly, "I can see." + +He bent lower. "Yes?" he said, in a choked voice. "Yes?" + +She regarded him with a faint wonder. Her eyes were growing heavy, as +the eyes of a tired child. She raised one hand and pointed vaguely. + +"Over there," she said wearily. "Can't you see them? Then perhaps it +was a dream, or even--perhaps--a vision. Don't you remember how +it went? 'And behold--the mountain--was full--of horses--and +chariots--of--fire!' God sent them, you know." + +The tired voice ceased. Her head sank lower upon Nick's breast. She +gave a little quivering sigh, and seemed to sleep. + +And Nick turned his tortured eyes upon the pass below him, and stared +downwards spellbound. + +Was he dreaming also? Or was it perchance a vision--the trick of his +fevered fancy? There, at his feet, not fifty yards from where he sat, +he beheld men, horses, guns, winding along in a narrow, unbroken line +as far as he could see. + +A great surging filled his ears, and through it he heard himself shout +once, twice, and yet a third time to the phantom army below. + +The surging swelled in his brain to a terrific tumult--a confusion +indescribable. And then something seemed to crack inside his head. +The dark peaks swayed giddily against the darkening sky, and toppled +inwards without sound. + +The last thing he knew was the call of a bugle, tense and shrill as +the buzz of a mosquito close to his ear. And he laughed aloud to think +how so small a thing had managed to deceive him. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +COMRADES + + +The jingling notes of a piano playing an air from a comic opera +floated cheerily forth into the magic silence of the Simla pines, and +abruptly, almost spasmodically, a cracked voice began to sing. It was +a sentimental ditty treated jocosely, and its frivolity rippled out +into the mid-day silence with something of the effect of a monkey's +chatter. The _khitmutgar_ on the verandah would have looked +scandalised or at best contemptuous had it not been his rôle to +express nothing but the dignified humility of the native servant. +He was waiting for his mistress to come out of the nursery where her +voice could be heard talking imperiously to her baby's _ayah_. He had +already waited some minutes, and he would probably have waited much +longer, for his patience was inexhaustible, had it not been for that +sudden irresponsible and wholly tuneless burst of song. But the +second line was scarcely ended before she came hurriedly forth, nearly +running into his stately person in her haste. + +"Oh, dear, Sammy!" she exclaimed with some annoyance. "Why didn't you +tell me Captain Ratcliffe was here?" + +She hastened past him along the verandah with the words, not troubling +about his explanation, and entered the room whence the music proceeded +at a run. + +"My dear Nick," she cried impulsively, "I had no idea!" + +The music ceased in a jangle of wrong notes, and Nick sprang to his +feet, his yellow face wearing a grin of irrepressible gaiety. + +"So I gathered, O elect lady," he rejoined, seizing her outstretched +hands and kissing first one and then the other. "And I took the first +method that presented itself of making myself known. So they beguiled +you to Simla, after all?" + +"Yes, I had to come for my baby's sake. They thought at first it would +have to be home and no compromise. I'm longing to show him to you, +Nick. Only six months, and such a pet already! But tell me about +yourself. I am sure you have come off the sick list too soon. You +look as if you had come straight from a lengthy stay with the +_bandar-log_." + +"_Tu quoque!_" laughed Nick. "And with far less excuse. Only you +manage to look charming notwithstanding, which is beyond me. Do you +know, Mrs. Musgrave, you don't do justice to the compromise? I should +be furious with you if I were Will." + +Mrs. Musgrave frowned at him. She was a very pretty woman, possessing +a dainty and not wholly unconscious charm. "Tell me about yourself, +Nick," she commanded. "And don't be ridiculous. You can't possibly +judge impartially on that head, as you haven't the smallest idea as to +how ill I have been. I am having a rest cure now, you must know, and I +don't go anywhere; or I should have come to see you in hospital." + +"Good thing you didn't take the trouble," said Nick. "I've been +sleeping for the last three weeks, and I am only just awake." + +Mrs. Musgrave looked at him with a very friendly smile. "Poor Nick!" +she said. "And Wara was relieved after all." + +He jerked up his shoulders. "After a fashion. Grange was the only +white man left, and he hadn't touched food for three days. If Muriel +Roscoe had stayed, she would have been dead before Bassett got +anywhere near them. There are times when the very fact of suffering +actively keeps people alive. It was that with her." + +He spoke briefly, almost harshly, and immediately turned from the +subject. "I suppose you were very anxious about your cousin?" + +"Poor Blake Grange? Of course I was. But I was anxious--horribly +anxious--about you all." There was a quiver of deep feeling in Mrs. +Musgrave's voice. + +"Thank you," said Nick. He reached out a skeleton finger and laid it +on her arm. "I thought you would be feeling soft-hearted, so I have +come to ask you a favour. Not that I shouldn't have come in any case, +but it seemed a suitable moment to choose." + +Mrs. Musgrave laughed a little. "Have you ever found me anything but +kind?" she questioned. + +"Never," said Nick. "You're the best pal I ever had, which is the +exact reason for my coming here to-day. Mrs. Musgrave, I want you to +be awfully good to Muriel Roscoe. She needs some one to help her along +just now." + +Mrs. Musgrave opened her eyes wide, but she said nothing at once, for +Nick had sprung to his feet and was restlessly pacing the room. + +"Come back, Nick," she said at last. "Tell me a little about her. We +have never met, you know. And why do you ask this of me when she is in +Lady Bassett's care?" + +"Lady Bassett!" said Nick. He made a hideous grimace, and said no +more. + +Mrs. Musgrave laughed. "How eloquent! Do you hate her, too, then? I +thought all men worshipped at that shrine." + +Nick came back and sat down. "I nearly killed her once," he said. + +"What a pity you didn't quite!" ejaculated Mrs. Musgrave. + +Nick grinned. "Sits the wind in that quarter? I wonder why." + +"Oh, I hate her by instinct," declared Mrs. Musgrave recklessly, +"though her scented notes to me always begin, 'Dearest Daisy'! She +always disapproved of me openly till baby came. But she has found +another niche for me now. I am not supposed to be so fascinating as I +was. She prefers unattractive women." + +"Gracious heaven!" interjected Nick. + +"Yes, you may laugh. I do myself." Daisy Musgrave spoke almost +fiercely notwithstanding. "She's years older than I am anyhow, and I +shall score some day if I don't now. Have you ever watched her dance? +There's a sort of snaky, coiling movement runs up her whole body. +Goodness!" breaking off abruptly. "I'm getting venomous myself. I had +better stop before I frighten you away." + +"Oh, don't mind me!" laughed Nick. "No one knows better than I +that she is made to twist all ways. She hates me as a cobra hates a +mongoose." + +"Really?" Daisy Musgrave was keenly interested. "But why?" + +He shook his head. "You had better ask Lady Bassett. It may be +because I had the misfortune to set fire to her once. It is true I +extinguished her afterwards, but I don't think she enjoyed it. It was +a humiliating process. Besides, it spoilt her dress." + +"But she is always so gracious to you," protested Daisy. + +"Honey-sweet. That's exactly how I know her cobra feelings. And that +brings me round to Muriel Roscoe again, and the favour I have to ask." + +Daisy shot him a sudden shrewd glance. "Do you want to marry her?" she +asked him point blank. + +Nick's colourless eyebrows went up till they nearly met his colourless +hair. "Dearest Daisy," he said, "you are a genius. I mean to do that +very thing." + +Daisy got up and softly closed the window. "Surely she is very young," +she said. "Is she in love with you?" + +She did not turn at the sound of his laugh. She had almost expected +it. For she knew Nick Ratcliffe as very few knew him. The bond of +sympathy between them was very strong. + +"Can you imagine any girl falling in love with me?" he asked. + +"Of course I can. You are not so unique as that. There isn't a man in +the universe that some woman couldn't be fool enough to love." + +"Many thanks!" said Nick. "Then--I may count upon your support, may +I? I know Lady Bassett will put a spoke in my wheel if she can. But I +have Sir Reginald's consent. He is Muriel's guardian, you know. Also, +I had her father's approval in the first place. It has got to be soon, +you see, Daisy. The present state of affairs is unbearable. She will +be miserable with Lady Bassett." + +Daisy still stood with her back to him. She was fidgeting with the +blind-cord, her pretty face very serious. + +"I am not sure," she said slowly, "that it lies in my power to help +you. Of course I am willing to do my best, because, as you say, we are +pals. But, Nick, she is very young. And if--if she really doesn't love +you, you mustn't ask me to persuade her." + +Nick sprang up impulsively. "Oh, but you don't understand," he said +quickly. "She would be happy enough with me. I would see to that. I--I +would be awfully good to her, Daisy." + +She turned swiftly at the unwonted quiver in his voice. "My dear +Nick," she said earnestly, "I am sure of it. You could make any woman +who loved you happy. But no one--no one--knows the misery that may +result from a marriage without love on both sides--except those who +have made one." + +There was something almost passionate in her utterance. But she turned +if off quickly with a smile and a friendly hand upon his arm. + +"Come," she said lightly. "I want to show you my boy. I left him +almost in tears. But he always smiles when he sees his mother." + +"Who doesn't?" said Nick gallantly, following her lead. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE SCHOOL OF SORROW + + +The aromatic scent of the Simla pines literally encircled and pervaded +the Bassetts' bungalow, penetrating to every corner. Lady Bassett was +wont to pronounce it "distractingly sweet," when her visitors drew +her attention to the fact. Hers was among the daintiest as well as the +best situated bungalows in Simla, and she was pleasantly aware of +a certain envy on the part of her many acquaintances, which added +a decided relish to the flavour of her own appreciation. But +notwithstanding this, she was hardly ever to be found at home except +by appointment. Her social engagements were so numerous that, as she +often pathetically remarked, she scarcely ever enjoyed the luxury of +solitude. As a hostess she was indefatigable, and being an excellent +bridge-player as well as a superb dancer, it was not surprising that +she occupied a fairly prominent position in her own select circle. +In appearance she was a woman of about five-and-thirty--though the +malicious added a full dozen years more to her credit--with fair hair, +a peculiarly soft voice, and a smile that was slightly twisted. She +was always exquisitely dressed, always cool, always gentle, never +hasty in word or deed. If she ever had reason to rebuke or snub, it +was invariably done with the utmost composure, but with deadly effect +upon the offender. Lady Bassett was generally acknowledged to be +unanswerable at such times by all but the very few who did not fear +her. + +There were not many who really felt at ease with her, and Muriel +Roscoe was emphatically not one of the number. Her father had +nominated Sir Reginald her guardian, and Sir Reginald, aware of this +fact, had sent her at once to his wife at Simla. The girl had been too +ill at the time to take any interest in her destination or ultimate +disposal. It was true that she had never liked Lady Bassett, that she +had ever felt shy and constrained in her presence, and that, had she +been consulted, she would probably have asked to be sent to England. +But Sir Reginald had been too absorbed in the task before him to spend +much thought on his dead comrade's child at that juncture, and he +had followed the simplest course that presented itself, allowing Nick +Ratcliffe to retain the privilege which General Roscoe himself had +bestowed. Thus Muriel had come at last into Lady Bassett's care, and +she was only just awaking to the fact that it was by no means the +guardianship she would have chosen for herself had she been in a +position to choose. As the elasticity of her youth gradually asserted +itself, and the life began to flow again in her veins, the power to +suffer returned to her, and in the anguish of her awakening faculties +she knew how utterly she was alone. It was in one sense a relief that +Lady Bassett, being caught in the full swing of the Simla season, was +unable to spare much of her society for the suddenly bereaved girl who +had been thrust upon her. But there were times during that period of +dragging convalescence when any presence would have been welcome. + +She was no longer acutely ill, but a low fever hung about her, a +species of physical inertia against which she had no strength to +struggle. And often she wondered to herself with a dreary amazement, +why she still lived, why she had survived the horrors of that flight +through the mountains, why she had been thus, as it were, cast up upon +a desert rock when all that had made life good in her eyes had been +ruthlessly swept away. At such times there would come upon her a +loneliness almost unthinkable, a shrinking more terrible than the fear +of death, and the future would loom before her black as night, a blank +and awful desert which she felt she could never dare to travel. + +Sometimes in her dreams there would come to her other visions--visions +of the gay world that throbbed so close to her, the world she had +entered with her father so short a time before. She would hear again +the hubbub of laughing voices, the music, the tramp of dancing feet. +And she would start from her sleep to find only a great emptiness, a +listening silence, an unspeakable desolation. + +If she ever thought of Nick in those days, it was as a phantom that +belonged to the nightmare that lay behind her. He had no part in her +present, and the future she could not bring herself to contemplate. No +one even mentioned his name to her till one day Lady Bassett entered +her room before starting for a garden-party at Vice-Regal Lodge, a +faint flush on her cheeks, and her blue eyes brighter than usual. + +"I have just received a note from Captain Ratcliffe, dear Muriel," +she said. "I have already mentioned to him that you are too unwell to +think of receiving any one at present, but he announces his intention +of paying you a visit notwithstanding. Perhaps you would like to write +him a note yourself, and corroborate what I have said." + +"Captain Ratcliffe!" Muriel echoed blankly, as though the name +conveyed nothing to her; and then with a great start as the blood +rushed to her white cheeks, "Oh, you mean Nick. I--I had almost +forgotten his other name. Does he want to see me? Is he in Simla +still?" + +She turned her hot face away with a touch of petulance from the +peculiar look with which Lady Bassett was regarding her. What did she +mean by looking at her so, she wondered irritably? + +There followed a pause, and Lady Bassett began to fasten her +many-buttoned gloves. + +"Of course, dear," she said gently, at length, "there is not the +smallest necessity for you to see him. Indeed, if my advice were +asked, I should recommend you not to do so; for after such a +terrible experience as yours, one cannot be too circumspect. It is so +perilously easy for rumours to get about. I will readily transmit a +message for you if you desire it, though I think on the whole it would +be more satisfactory if you were to write him a line yourself to say +that you cannot receive him." + +"Why?" demanded Muriel, with sudden unexpected energy. She turned back +again, and looked at Lady Bassett with a quick gleam that was almost a +challenge in her eyes. "Why should I not see him? After all, I suppose +I ought to thank him. Besides--besides--why should I not?" + +She could not have said what moved her to this unwonted +self-assertion. Had Lady Bassett required her to see Nick she would +probably have refused to do so, and listlessly dismissed the matter +from her mind. But there was that in Lady Bassett's manner which +roused her antagonism almost instinctively. But vaguely understanding, +she yet resented the soft-spoken words. Moreover, a certain +perversity, born of her weakness, urged her. What right had Lady +Bassett to deny her to any one? + +"When is he coming?" she asked. "I will see him when he comes." + +Lady Bassett yielded the point at once with the faintest possible +shrug. "As you wish, dear child, of course; but I do beg of you to be +prudent. He speaks of coming this afternoon. But would you not like +him to postpone his visit till I can be with you?" + +"No, I don't think so," Muriel said, with absolute simplicity. + +"Ah, well!" Lady Bassett spoke in the tone of one repudiating all +responsibility. She bent over the girl with a slightly wry smile, and +kissed her forehead. "Good-bye, dearest! I shouldn't encourage him to +stay long, if I were you. And I think you would be wise to call him +Captain Ratcliffe now that you are living a civilised life once more." + +Muriel turned her face aside with a species of bored patience that +could scarcely be termed tolerance. She did not understand these +veiled warnings, and she cared too little for Lady Bassett and her +opinions to trouble herself about them. She had never liked her, +though she knew that her father had conscientiously tried to do so for +the sake of his friend, Sir Reginald. + +As Lady Bassett went away she rubbed the place on her forehead which +her cold lips had touched. "If she only knew how I hate being kissed!" +she murmured to herself. + +And then with an effort she rose and moved wearily across the room to +ring the bell. Since by some unaccountable impulse she had decided to +see Nick, it might be advisable, she reflected, to give her own orders +regarding his visit. + +Having done so, she lay down again. But she did not sleep. Sleep was +an elusive spirit in those days. It sometimes seemed to her that she +was too worn out mentally and physically ever to rest naturally again. + +Nearly an hour passed away while she lay almost unconsciously +listening. And then suddenly, with a sense of having experienced it +all long before, there came to her the sound of careless footsteps and +of a voice that hummed. + +It went through her heart like a sword-thrust as she called to mind +that last night at Fort Wara when she had clung to her father for the +last time, and had heard him bid her good-bye--till they should meet +again. + +With a choked sensation she rose, and stood steadying herself by the +back of the sofa. Could she go through this interview? Could she bear +it? Her heart was beating in heavy, sickening throbs. For an instant +she almost thought of escaping and sending word that she was not equal +to seeing any one, as Lady Bassett had already intimated. But even as +the impulse flashed through her brain, she realised that it was +too late. The shadow of the native servant had already darkened the +window, and she knew that Nick was just behind him on the verandah. +With a great, sobbing gasp, she turned herself to meet him. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE EAGLE SWOOPS + + +He came in as lightly and unceremoniously as though they had parted +but the day before, a smile of greeting upon his humorous, yellow +face, words of careless good-fellowship upon his lips. + +He took her hand for an instant, and she felt rather than saw that +he gave her a single, scrutinising glance from under eyelids that +flickered incessantly. + +"I see you are better," he said, "so I won't put you to the trouble +of saying so. I suppose dear Lady Bassett has gone to the Vice-Regal +garden-party. But it's all right. I told her I was coming. Did you +have to persuade her very hard to let you see me?" + +Muriel stiffened a little at this inquiry. Her agitation was rapidly +subsiding. It left her vaguely chilled, even disappointed. She had +forgotten how cheerily inconsequent Nick could be. + +"I didn't persuade her at all," she said coldly. "I simply told her +that I should see you in order--" + +"Yes?" queried Nick, looking delighted. "In order--" + +To her annoyance she felt herself flushing. With a gesture of +weariness she dismissed the sentence and sat down. She had meant to +make him a brief and gracious speech of gratitude for his past care of +her, but somehow it stuck in her throat. Besides, it was quite obvious +that he did not expect it. + +He came and sat down beside her on the sofa. "Let's talk things over," +he said. "You are out of the doctor's hands, I'm told." + +Muriel was leaning back against the cushions. She did not raise her +heavy eyes to answer. "Oh, yes, ever so long ago. I'm quite well, only +rather tired still." + +She frowned slightly as she gave this explanation. Though his face +was not turned in her direction, she had a feeling that he was still +closely observant of her. + +He nodded to himself twice while he listened and then suddenly he +reached out and laid his hand upon both of hers as they rested in her +lap. "I'm awfully pleased to hear you are quite well," he said, in +a voice that seemed to crack on a note of laughter. "It makes my +business all the easier. I've come to ask you, dear, how soon you can +possibly make it convenient to marry me. To-day? To-morrow? Next week? +I don't of course want to hurry you unduly, but there doesn't seem to +be anything to wait for. And--personally--I abhor waiting. Don't you?" + +He turned towards her with the last words. He had spoken very gently, +but there seemed to be an element of humour in all that he said. + +Muriel's eyes were wide open by the time he ended. She was staring +at him in blank astonishment. The flush on her face had deepened to +crimson. + +"Marry you?" she gasped at length, stammering in her confusion. "I? +Why--why--whatever made you dream of such a thing?" + +"I'll tell you," said Nick instantly, and quite undismayed. "I dreamed +that a certain friend of mine was lonely and heart-sick and sad. And +she wanted--horribly--some one to come and take care of her, to cheer +her up, to lift her over the bad places, to give her things which, if +they couldn't compensate for all she had lost, would be anyhow a bit +of a comfort to her. And then I remembered how she belonged to me, how +she had been given to me by her own father to cherish and care for. +And so I plucked up courage to intrude upon her while she was still +wallowing in her Slough of Despair. And I didn't pester her with +preliminaries. We're past that stage, you and I, Muriel. I simply came +to her because it seemed absurd to wait any longer. And I just asked +her humble-like to fix a day when we would get up very early, and +bribe the padre and sweet Lady Bassett to do likewise, and have a +short--very short--service all to ourselves at church, and when it was +over we would just say good-bye to all kind friends and depart. Won't +you give the matter your serious consideration? Believe me, it is +worth it." + +He still held her hand closely in his while he poured out his rapid +explanation, and his eyebrows worked up and down so swiftly that +Muriel was fascinated by them. His eyes baffled her completely. They +were like a glancing flame. She listened to his proposal with more +of bewilderment than consternation. It took her breath away without +exactly frightening her. The steady grasp of his hand and the +exceedingly practical tones of his voice kept her from unreasoning +panic; but she was too greatly astounded to respond very promptly. + +"Tell me what you think about it," he said gently. + +But she was utterly at a loss to describe her feelings. She shook her +head and was silent. + +After a little he went on, still quickly, but with less impetuosity. +"It isn't just a sudden fancy of mine--this. Don't think it. There's +nothing capricious about me. Your father knew about it. And because he +knew, he put you in my care. It was his sole reason for trusting you +to me. I had his full approval." + +He paused, for her fingers had closed suddenly within his own. She +was looking at him no longer. Her memory had flashed back to that last +terrible night of her father's life. Again she heard him telling her +of the one man to whom he had entrusted her, who would make it his +sole business to save her, who would protect her life with his own, +heard his speculative question as to whether she knew whom he meant, +recalled her own quick reply, and his answer--and his answer. + +With a sudden sense of suffocation, she freed her hand and rose. Once +more her old aversion to this man swept over her in a nauseating wave. +Once more there rose before her eyes the dread vision which for many, +many nights had haunted her persistently, depriving her of all +rest, all peace of mind--the vision of a man in his death-struggle, +fighting, agonising, under those merciless fingers. + +It was more than she could bear. She covered her eyes, striving to +shut out the sight that tortured her weary brain. "Oh, I don't know if +I can!" she almost wailed. "I don't know if I can!" + +Nick did not move. And yet it seemed to her in those moments of +reawakened horror as if by some magnetic force he still held her fast. +She strove against it with all her frenzied strength, but it eluded +her, baffled her--conquered her. + +When he spoke at length, she turned and listened, lacking the +motive-power to resist. + +"There is nothing to frighten you anyhow," he said, and the tone in +which he said it was infinitely comforting, infinitely reassuring. "I +only want to take care of you; for you're a lonely little soul, not +old enough, or wise enough to look after yourself. And I'll be awfully +good to you, Muriel, if you'll have me." + +Something in those last words--a hint of pleading, of coaxing +even--found its way to her heart, as it were, against her will. +Moreover, what he said was true. She was lonely: miserably, +unspeakably lonely. All her world was in ashes around her, and there +were times when its desolation positively appalled her. + +But still she stood irresolute. Could she, dared she, take this step? +What if that phantom of horror pursued her relentlessly to the day of +her death? Would she not come in time to shrink with positive loathing +from this man whose offer of help she now felt so strangely tempted in +her utter friendlessness to accept? + +It was impossible to answer these tormenting questions satisfactorily. +But there was nothing--so she told herself--to be gained by waiting. +She had no one to advise her, no one really to mind what happened to +her, with the single exception of this friend of hers, who only +wanted to take care of her. And after all, since misery was to be her +portion, what did it matter? Why should she refuse to listen to him? +Had he not shown her already that he could be kind? + +A sudden warmth of gratitude towards him stirred in her heart--a tiny +flame springing up among the ashes of her youth. Her horror sank away +like an evil dream. + +She turned round with a certain deliberation that had grown upon her +of late, and went back to Nick still seated on the sofa. + +"I don't care much what I do now," she said wearily. "I will marry +you, if you wish it, if--if you are quite sure you will never wish you +hadn't." + +"Well done!" said Nick, with instant approval. "That's settled then, +for I was quite sure of that ages ago." + +He smiled at her quizzically, his face a mask of banter. Of what his +actual feelings were at that moment she had not the faintest idea. + +With a piteous little smile in answer she laid her hand upon his knee. +"You will have to be very patient with me," she said tremulously. "For +remember--I have come to the end of everything, and you are the only +friend I have left." + +He took her hand into his own again, with a grasp that was warm and +comforting. "My dear," he said very kindly, "I shall always remember +that you once told me so." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE FIRST FLIGHT + + +Muriel lay awake for hours that night, going over and over that +interview with Nick till her tired brain reeled. She was not exactly +frightened by this new element that had come into her life. The very +fact of having something definite to look forward to was a relief +after dwelling for so long in the sunless void of non-expectancy. But +she was by no means sure that she welcomed so violent a disturbance at +the actual heart of her darkened existence. She could not, moreover, +wholly forget her fear of the man who had saved her by main force from +the fate she would fain have shared with her father. His patience--his +almost womanly gentleness--notwithstanding, she could not forget +the demon of violence and bloodshed that she knew to be hidden away +somewhere behind that smiling, yellow mask. + +She marvelled at herself for her tame surrender, but she felt it to +be irrevocable nevertheless. So broken was she by adversity, that she +lacked the energy to resist him or even to desire to do so. She tried +to comfort herself with the thought that she was carrying out her +father's wishes for her; but this did not take her very far. She could +not help the doubt arising as to whether he had ever really gauged +Nick's exceedingly elusive character. + +Tired out, at last she slept, and dreamed that an eagle had caught her +and was bearing her swiftly, swiftly, through wide spaces to his eyrie +in the mountains. + +It was a long, breathless flight fraught with excitement and a +nameless exultation that pierced her like pain. She awoke from it +with a cry that was more of disappointment than relief, and started up +gasping to hear horses' hoofs dancing in the compound below her window +to the sound of a cracked, hilarious voice. + +She almost laughed as she realised what it was, and in a moment all +her misgivings of the night vanished like wraiths of the darkness. +He had extracted a promise from her to ride with him at dawn, and he +meant to keep her to it. She got up and pulled aside the blind. + +A wild view-halloa greeted her, and she dropped it again sharply; +but not before she had seen Nick prancing about the drive on a giddy, +long-limbed Waler, and making frantic signs to her to join him. +Another horse with a side-saddle was waiting, held by a grinning +little _saice_. The sun was already rising rapidly behind the +mountains. She began to race through her toilet at a speed that showed +her to have caught some of the fever of her cavalier's impatience. + +She wondered what Lady Bassett thought of the disturbance (Lady +Bassett never rose early), and nearly laughed aloud. + +Hastening out at length she found Nick dismounted and waiting for her +by the verandah-steps. He sprang up to meet her with an eager whoop of +greeting. + +"Hope you enjoyed my serenade. Come along! There's no time to waste. +Jakko turned red some minutes ago. Were you asleep?" + +Muriel admitted the fact. + +"And dreaming of me," he rattled on, "as was sweet and proper?" + +She did not answer, and he laughed like a boy, rudely but not +insolently. + +"Didn't I know it? Jump up! We're going to have a glorious gallop. +I've brought some slabs of chocolate to keep you from starvation. +Ready? Heave ho! My dear girl, you're disgracefully light still. Why +don't you eat more?" + +"You're as thin as a herring yourself," Muriel retorted, with a most +unwonted flash of spirit. + +He lifted his grinning face to her as she settled herself in the +saddle, and then uncovering swiftly he bent and kissed the black cloth +of her habit, humbly, reverently, as became a slave. + +It sent a queer thrill through her, that kiss of his. She felt that +it was in some fashion a revelation; but she was still too blinded by +groping in dark places to understand its message. As they trotted side +by side out of the compound, she knew her face was burning, and turned +it aside that he might not see. + +It was a wonderful morning. There was intoxication in the scent of the +pines. The whole atmosphere seemed bewitched. They gave their horses +the rein and raced with the wind through an enchanted world. It was +the wildest, most alluring ride that she had ever known, and when Nick +called a halt at last she protested with a flushed face and sparkling +eyes. + +Nevertheless, it was good to sit and watch the rapid transformation +that the sun-god was weaving all about them. She saw the spurs of +Jakko fade from pink to purest amber, and then in the passage of a +few seconds gleam silver in the flood of glory that topped the highest +crests. And her heart fluttered oddly at the sight, while again she +thought of the eagle of her dream, cleaving the wide spaces, and +bearing her also. + +She glanced round for Nick, but he had wheeled his horse and was +staring out towards the plains. She wondered what was passing in his +mind, for he sat like a statue, his face turned from her. And suddenly +the dread loneliness of the mountains gripped her as with a chilly +hand. It seemed as if they two were alone together in all the world. + +She walked over to him. "I'm cold, Nick," she said, breaking in upon +his silence almost apologetically. "Shall we go?" + +He stretched out a hand to her without turning his head, without +speaking. But she would not put her own within it, for she was afraid. + +After a long pause he gave a sudden sharp sigh, and pulled his horse +round. "Eh? Cold? We'll fly down to Annandale. There's plenty of +time before us. By the way, I want to introduce you to a friend of +mine--Daisy Musgrave. Ever heard of her? She and Blake Grange are +first cousins. You'll like Daisy. We are great chums, she and I." + +Muriel had heard of her from Captain Grange. She had also once upon a +time met Daisy's husband. + +"I liked him, rather," she said. "But I thought he must be very +young." + +"So he is," said Nick. "A mere infant. He's in the Civil Service, and +works like an ox. Mrs. Musgrave is very delicate. She and the baby +were packed off up here in a hurry. I believe she has a weak heart. +She may have to go home to recruit even now. She doesn't go out at all +herself, but she hopes I will take you to see her. Will you come?" + +Muriel hesitated for a moment. "Nick," she said, "are you +telling--everybody--of our--engagement?" + +"Of course," said Nick, instantly. "Why not?" + +She could not tell him, only she was vaguely dismayed. + +"I told Lady Bassett yesterday evening," he went on. "Didn't she say +anything to you?" + +"Oh, yes. She kissed me and said she was very pleased." Muriel's +cheeks burned at the recollection. + +"How nice of her!" commented Nick. He shot her a sidelong glance. +"Dear Lady Bassett always says and does the right thing at the right +moment. It's her speciality. That's why we are all so fond of her." + +Muriel made no response, though keenly aware of the subtlety of this +speech. So Nick disliked her hostess also. She wondered why. + +"You see," he proceeded presently, "it is as well to be quite open +about it as we are going to be married so soon. Of course every one +realises that it is to be a strictly private affair. You needn't be +afraid of any demonstration." + +It was not that that had induced her feeling of dismay, but she could +not tell him so. + +"And Mrs. Musgrave knows?" she questioned. + +"I told her first," said Nick. "But you mustn't mind her. She won't +commit the fashionable blunder of congratulating you." + +Muriel laughed nervously. She longed to say something careless and +change the subject, but she was feeling stiff and unnatural, and words +failed her. + +Nick brought his horse up close to hers. + +"There's one thing I want to say to you, Muriel, before we go down," +he said. + +"Oh, what?" She turned a scared face towards him. + +"Nothing to alarm you," said Nick, frowning at her quizzically. "I +wanted to say it some minutes ago only I was shy. Look here, dear." He +held out to her a twist of tissue-paper on the palm of his hand. "It's +a ring I want you to wear for me. There's a message inside it. Read it +when you are alone." + +Muriel looked at the tiny packet without taking it. She had turned +very white. "Oh, Nick," she faltered at last, "are you--are you--quite +sure?" + +"Quite sure of what?" questioned Nick. "Your mind? Or my own?" + +"Don't!" she begged tremulously. "I can't laugh over this." + +"Laugh!" said Nick sharply. And then swiftly his whole manner changed. +"Yes, it's all right, dear," he said, smiling at her. "Take it, won't +you? I am--quite--sure." + +She took it obediently, but her reluctance was still very manifest. +Nick, however, did not appear to notice this. + +"Don't look at it now," he said. "Wait till I'm not there. Put it away +somewhere for the present, and let's have another gallop." + +She glanced at him as she slipped his gift into her pocket. "Won't you +let me thank you, Nick?" she asked shyly. + +"Wait till you've seen it," he returned. "You may not think it worth +it. Ready? One! Two! Three!" + +In the scamper that followed, the blood surged back to her face, and +her spirits rose again; but in her secret heart there yet remained a +nameless dread that she was as powerless to define as to expel. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MESSAGE + + +Lady Bassett was still invisible when Muriel returned to the bungalow +though breakfast was waiting for them on the verandah. She passed +quickly through to her room and commenced hasty preparations for a +bath. It had been a good ride, and she realised that, though tired, +she was also very hungry. + +She slipped Nick's gift out of the pocket of her riding-habit, but she +would not stop to open it then. That should come presently, when +she had the whole garden to herself, and all the leisure of the long +summer morning before her. She felt that in a sense she owed him that. + +But a note that caught her eye lying on the table she paused to open +and hastily peruse. The writing was unfamiliar to her--a dashing, +impetuous scrawl that excited her curiosity. + +"Dear Miss Roscoe," it ran,--"Don't think me an unmitigated bore if +you can help it. I am wondering if you would have the real kindness +to waive ceremony and pay me a visit this afternoon. I shall be quite +alone, unless my baby can be considered in the light of a social +inducement. I know that Nick contemplates bringing you to see me, and +so he shall, if you prefer it. But personally I consider that he would +be decidedly _de trop_. I feel that we shall soon know each other so +well that a formal introduction seems superfluous. Let me know your +opinion by word of mouth, or if not, I shall understand. Nick, being +of the inferior species, could hardly be expected to do so, though I +admit that he is more generously equipped in the matter of intellect +than most.--Your friend to be, + +"Daisy Musgrave." + +Muriel laid down the letter with a little smile. Its spontaneous +friendliness was like a warm hand clasping hers. Yes, she would go, +she decided, as she splashed refreshingly in her bath, and that not +for Nick's sake. She knew instinctively that she was going to discover +a close sympathy with this woman who, though an utter stranger to her, +yet knew how to draw her as a sister. And Muriel's longing for such +human fellowship had already driven her to extremes. + +She had the note in her hand when she finally joined Lady Bassett upon +the verandah. + +Lady Bassett, though ever-gracious, was seldom at her best in the +morning. She greeted the girl with a faint, wry smile, and proffered +her nearest cheek to be kissed. + +"Quite an early bird, dear child!" was her comment. "I should imagine +Captain Ratcliffe's visitation awakened the whole neighbourhood. I +think you must not go out again with him before sunrise. I should not +have advised it this morning if you had consulted me." + +Muriel flushed at the softly-conveyed reproof. "It is not the first +time," she said, in her deep voice that was always deepest when +indignation moved her. "We have seen the sun rise together and the +moon rise too, before to-day." + +Lady Bassett sighed gently. "I am sure, dearest," she said, "that you +do not mean to be uncouth or unmannerly, far less--that most odious +of all propensities in a young girl--forward. But though my authority +over you were to be regarded as so slight as to be quite negligible, I +should still feel it my duty to remonstrate when I saw you committing +a breach of the conventions which might be grievously misconstrued. I +trust, dear Muriel, that you will bear my protest in mind and regulate +your actions by it in the future. Will you take coffee?" + +Muriel had seated herself at the other side of the table, and was +regarding her with wide, dark eyes that were neither angry nor +ashamed, only quite involuntarily disdainful. + +After a distinct pause she decided to let the matter drop, reflecting +that Lady Bassett's subtleties were never worth pursuing. + +"I am going to see a friend of Nick's this afternoon," she said +presently. "I expect you know her--Mrs. Musgrave." + +Lady Bassett's forehead puckered a little. It could hardly be called a +frown. "Have you ever met Mrs. Musgrave?" she asked. + +"No, never. But she is Nick's friend, and of course I know her cousin, +Captain Grange, quite well." + +Lady Bassett made no comment upon this. "Of course, dear," she said, +"you are old enough to please yourself, but it is not usual, you +know, to plunge into social pleasures after so recent a bereavement as +yours." + +The sudden silence that followed this gentle reminder had in it +something that was passionate. Muriel's face turned vividly crimson, +and then gradually whitened to a startling pallor. + +"It is the last thing I should wish to do," she said, in a stifled +voice. + +Lady Bassett continued, softly suggestive. "I say nothing of your +marriage, dear child. For that, I am aware, is practically a matter +of necessity. But I do think that under the circumstances you can +scarcely be too careful in what you do. Society is not charitably +inclined towards those who even involuntarily transgress its rules. +And you most emphatically are not in a position to do so wilfully." + +She paused, for Muriel had risen unexpectedly to her feet. Her eyes +were blazing in her white face. + +"Why should you call my marriage a matter of necessity?" she demanded. +"Sir Reginald told me that my father had provided for me." + +"Of course, of course, dear." Lady Bassett uttered a faint, artificial +laugh. "It is not a question of means at all. But, there, since you +are so childishly unsophisticated, I need not open your eyes. It is +enough for you to know that there is a sufficiently urgent reason for +your marriage, and the sooner it can take place, the better. But in +the meantime, let me counsel you to be as prudent as possible in all +that you do. I assure you, dear, it is very necessary." + +Muriel received this little homily in silence. She did not in the +least understand to what these veiled allusions referred, and +she decided impatiently that they were unworthy of her serious +consideration. It was ridiculous to let herself be angry with Lady +Bassett. As if it mattered in the least what she said or thought! She +determined to pay her projected visit notwithstanding, and quietly +said so, as she turned at length from the table. + +Lady Bassett raised no further remonstrance beyond a faint, eloquent +lift of the shoulders. And Muriel went away into the shady compound, +her step firmer and her dark head decidedly higher than usual. She +felt for Nick's gift as she went, with a little secret sensation of +pleasure. After all, why had she been afraid? All girls wore rings +when they became engaged to be married. + +Reaching her favourite corner, she drew it forth from its +hiding-place, a quiver of excitement running through her. + +She was sitting in the hammock under the pines as she unwrapped it. +The hot sunshine, glinting through the dark boughs overhead, flashed +upon precious stones and dazzled her as the wisp of tissue-paper fell +from her hand. + +And in a moment she was looking at an old marquise ring of rubies in +a setting of finely-wrought gold. Her heart gave a throb of sheer +delight at the beauty of the thing. She slipped it impetuously on to +her finger, and held it up to the sunlight. + +The rubies shone with a deep lustre--red, red as heart's blood, ardent +as flame. She gazed and gazed with sparkling, fascinated eyes. + +Suddenly his words flashed into her mind. A message inside it! She had +been so caught by the splendour of the stones that she had not looked +inside. She drew the ring from her finger, and examined it closely, +with burning cheeks. + +Yes, there was the message--three words engraved in minute, +old-fashioned characters inside the gold band. They were so tiny that +it took her a long time to puzzle them out. With difficulty at length +she deciphered the quaint letters, but even then it was some time +before she grasped the meaning that they spelt. + +It flashed upon her finally, as though a voice had spoken into her +ear. The words were: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. And the ring in her hand +was no longer the outward visible sign of her compact. It was a +love-token, given to her by a man who had spoken no word of love. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE VOICE OF A FRIEND + + +"So you didn't bring Nick after all. That was nice of you," said Daisy +Musgrave, with a little, whimsical smile. "I wanted to have you all to +myself. The nicest of men can be horribly in the way sometimes." + +She smiled upon her visitor whom she had placed in the easiest chair +and in the pleasantest corner of her drawing-room. Her pretty face was +aglow with friendliness. No words of welcome were needed. + +Muriel was already feeling happier than she had felt for many, many +weary weeks. It had been an effort to come, but she was glad that she +had made it. + +"It was kind of you to ask me," she said, "though of course I know +that you did it for Nick's sake." + +"You are quite wrong," Daisy answered instantly. "He told me about +you, I admit. But after that, I wanted you for your own. And now I +have got you, Muriel, I am not going to stand on ceremony the least +bit in the world. And you mustn't either; but I can see you won't. +Your eyes are telling me things already. I don't get on with stiff +people somehow. Lady Bassett calls me effusive. And I think myself +there must have been something meteoric about my birth star. Doubtless +that is why I agree so well with Nick. He's meteoric, too." She +slipped cosily down upon a stool by Muriel's side. "He's a nice boy, +isn't he?" she said sympathetically. "And is that his ring? Ah, let +me look at it! I think I have seen it before. No, don't take it off! +That's unlucky." + +But Muriel had already drawn it from her finger. "It's beautiful," she +said warmly. "Do you know anything about it? It looks as if it had a +history." + +"It has," said Daisy. "I remember now. He showed it to me once when I +was staying at his brother's house in England. I know the Ratcliffes +well. My husband used to live with them as a boy. It came from the old +maiden aunt who left him all his money. She gave it to him before she +died, I believe, and told him to keep it for the woman he was sure to +love some day. Nick was an immense favourite of hers." + +"But the ring?" urged Muriel. + +Daisy was frowning over the inscription within it, but she was fully +aware of the soft colour that had flooded the girl's face at her +words. + +"OMNIA VINCIT AMOR," she read slowly. "That is it, isn't it? Ah, yes, +and the history of it. It's rather sad. Do you mind?" + +"I am used to sad things," Muriel reminded her, with her face turned +away toward the mountains. + +Daisy pressed her hand gently. "It is a French ring," she said. "It +belonged to an aristocrat who was murdered in the Reign of Terror. +He sent it by his servant to the girl he loved from the steps of the +guillotine. I don't know their names. Nick didn't tell me that. But +she was English." + +Muriel had turned quickly back. Her interest was aroused. "Yes," she +said eagerly, as Daisy paused. "And she?" + +"She!" Daisy's voice had a sudden hard ring in it. "She remained +faithful to him for just six months. And then she married an +Englishman. It was said that she did it against her will. Still she +did it. Luckily for her, perhaps, she died within the year--when her +child was born." + +Daisy rose abruptly and moved across the room. "That was more than a +hundred years ago," she said, "and women are as great fools still. If +they can't marry the man they love--they'll marry--anything." + +Muriel was silent. She felt as if she had caught sight of something +that she had not been intended to see. + +But in a moment Daisy came back, and, kneeling beside her, slipped the +ring on to her finger again. "Yet love conquers all the same, dear," +she said, passing her arm about the girl. "And yours is going to be +a happy love story. The ring came finally into the possession of the +lady's grandson, and it was he who gave it to Nick's aunt--the maiden +aunt. It was her engagement ring. She never wore any other, and she +only gave it to Nick when her fingers were too rheumatic to wear it +any longer. Her lover, poor boy, was killed in the Crimea. There! +Forgive me if I have made you sad. Death is not really sad, you +know, where there is love. People talk of it as if it conquered love, +whereas it is in fact all the other way round. Love conquers death." + +Muriel hid her face suddenly on Daisy's shoulder. "Oh, are you quite +sure?" she whispered. + +"I am quite sure, darling." The reply was instant and full of +conviction. "It doesn't need a good woman to be quite sure of that. +Over and over again it has been the only solid thing I have had to +hold by. I've clung to it blindly in outer darkness, God only knows +how often." + +Her arms tightened about Muriel, and she fell silent. For minutes the +room was absolutely quiet. Then Muriel raised her head. + +"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much." + +Her eyes were full of tears as her lips met Daisy's, but she brushed +them swiftly away before they fell. + +Daisy was smiling at her. "Come," she said, "I want to show you my +baby. He is just the wee-est bit fractious, as he is cutting a tooth. +The doctor says he will be all right, but he still threatens to send +us both to England." + +"And you don't want to go?" questioned Muriel. + +Daisy shook her head. "I want to see my cousin Blake," she said +lightly, "when he comes marching home again. Did you hear the rumour +that he is to have the V.C.? They ought to give it to Nick, too, if he +does." + +"Oh, I shouldn't think so. Nick didn't do anything. At least," Muriel +stumbled a little, "nothing to be proud of." + +Daisy laughed and caught her face between her hands. "Except save his +girl from destruction," she said. "Doesn't that count? Oh, Muriel, I +know exactly what made him want you. No, you needn't be afraid. I'm +not going to tell you. Wild horses sha'n't drag it from me. But he's +the luckiest man in India, and I think he knows it. What lovely hair +you have! I'll come round early on your wedding-day and do it for +you. And what will you wear? It mustn't be a black wedding whatever +etiquette may decree. You look too pathetic in black, and it's a +barbarous custom anyway. I have warned my husband fairly that if he +goes into mourning for me, I'll never speak to him hereafter again. +He is coming up to see us next week, and to discuss our fate with the +doctor. Have you ever met Will?" + +"Once," said Muriel. "It was at a dance at Poonah early last summer." + +"Ah! When I was at Mahableshwar. He is a good dancer, isn't he? He +does most things well, I think." + +Daisy smiled tolerantly as she indicated the photograph of a boy +upon the mantelpiece. "He isn't sixteen," she said; "he is nearly +twenty-eight. Now come and see his son and the light of my eyes." She +linked her arm in Muriel's, and, still smiling, led her from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE POISON OF ADDERS + + +The week that followed that first visit of hers was a gradual renewal +of life to Muriel. She had come through the darkest part of her +trouble, and, thick though the shadows might still lie about her, she +had at last begun to see light ahead. She went again and yet again to +see Daisy, and each visit added to her tranquillity of mind. Daisy was +wonderfully brisk for an invalid, and her baby was an endless source +of interest. Even Lady Bassett could not cavil when her charge spoke +of going to nursery tea at Mrs. Musgrave's. She made no attempt to +check the ripening friendship, though Muriel was subtly aware that she +did not approve of it. + +She also went every morning for a headlong gallop with Nick who, in +fact, would take no refusal in the matter. He came not at all to the +house except for these early visits, and she had a good many hours +to herself. But her health was steadily improving, and her loneliness +oppressed her less than formerly. She spent long mornings lying in the +hammock under the pines with only an occasional monkey far above her +to keep her company. It was her favourite haunt, and she grew to look +upon it as exclusively her own. There was a tiny rustic summer-house +near it, which no one ever occupied, so far as she knew. Moreover, +the hammock had been decorously slung behind it, so that even though +a visitor might conceivably penetrate as far as the arbour, it was +extremely unlikely that the hammock would come into the range of +discovery. + +Even Lady Bassett had never sought her here, her time being generally +quite fully occupied with her countless social engagements. Muriel +often wondered that that garden on the mountainside in which she +revelled seemed to hold so slight an attraction for its owner. But +then of course Lady Bassett was so much in demand that she had little +leisure to admire the beauties that surrounded her. + +Growing daily stronger, Muriel's half-childish panic regarding her +approaching marriage as steadily diminished. She enjoyed her rides +with Nick, becoming daily more and more at her ease with him. They +seldom touched upon intimate matters. She wore his ring, and once +she shyly thanked him for it. But he made no further reference to the +words engraved within it, and she was relieved by his forbearance. + +Nick, on his part, was visiting Daisy Musgrave every day, and +sedulously imbibing her woman's wisdom. He had immense faith in her +insight and her intuition, and when she entreated him to move +slowly and without impatience he took a sterner grip of himself and +resolutely set himself to cultivate the virtue she urged upon him. + +"You mustn't do anything in a hurry," Daisy assured him, "either +before your marriage or after. She has had a very bad shock, and she +is only just getting over it. You will throw everything back if you +try to precipitate matters. She is asleep, you know, Nick, and it is +for you to waken her, but gradually--oh, very gradually--or she will +start up in the old nightmare terror again. If she doesn't love you +yet, she is very near it. But you will only win her by waiting for +her. Never do anything sudden. Always remember what a child she is, +though she has outgrown her years. And children, you know, though they +will trust those they love to the uttermost, are easily frightened." + +Nick knew that she was right. He knew also that he was steadily +gaining ground, and that knowledge helped him more than all Daisy's +counsels. He was within sight, so he felt, of the great consummation +of all his desires, and he was drawing daily nearer. + +Their wedding-day was little more than a week away. He had already +made full preparation for it. It was to be as quiet a ceremony as it +was possible to arrange. Daisy Musgrave had promised to be there, and +he expected her husband also. Lady Bassett, whose presence he realised +with a grimace to be indispensable, would complete the wedding-party. + +He had arranged to leave Simla directly the service was over, and to +go into Nepal. It would not be his first visit to that most wonderful +country, and it held many things that he desired to show her. He +expected much from that wedding journey, from the close companionship, +the intimacy that must result. He would teach her first beyond all +doubting that she had nothing to fear, and then--then at last, as +the reward of infinite patience, he would win her love. His blood +quickened whenever he thought of it. Alone with her once more among +the mountains, in perfect security, surrounded by the glory of the +eternal snows, so he would win her. They would come back closely +united, equipped to face the whole world hand-in-hand, so joined +together that no shadow of evil could ever come between them any more. +For they would be irrevocably made one. Thus ran the current of +his splendid dream, and for this he curbed himself, mastered his +eagerness, controlled his passion. + +On the day that Daisy's husband arrived, he considerately absented +himself from their bungalow, knowing how the boy loved to have his +wife to himself. He had in consequence the whole afternoon at +his disposal, and he contemplated paying a surprise visit to his +betrothed. He had ridden with her that morning, and he did not doubt +that she was to be found somewhere in Lady Bassett's compound. So in +fact she was, and had he carried out his first intention, he would +have explored behind the summer-house and found her in her retreat. +But he did not after all pay his projected visit. A very small matter +frustrated his plans--a matter of no earthly importance, but which he +always looked upon afterwards as a piece of the devil's own handiwork. +He remembered some neglected correspondence, and decided to clear it +off. She would not be expecting him, possibly she might not welcome +his intrusion. And so, in consequence of that rigid self-restraint +that he was practising, he suffered this latter reflection to sway +him in the direction of his unanswered letters, and sat down to his +writing-table with a strong sense of virtue, utterly unsuspicious of +the evil which even at that moment was drawing near imperceptibly but +surely to the girl he loved. + +She was lying in her hammock with an unread book on her knees. It +was a slumberous afternoon, making for drowsiness. The mountains were +wrapped in a vague haze, and the whole world was very still. Very far +overhead, the pines occasionally whispered to one another, but below +there was no movement, save when a lizard scuttled swiftly over the +pine-needles, and once when an enquiring monkey-face peered at her +round the red bole of a pine. + +It was all very restful, and Muriel was undeniably sleepy. She had +ridden farther than usual with Nick that morning, and it did not take +much to tire her. Lady Bassett had gone to a polo-match, she knew, and +she luxuriated in undisturbed solitude. It lay all about her like +a spell of enchantment. With her cheek pillowed on her hand she +presently floated into serene slumber. It was like drifting down a +tidal river into a summer sea.... + +Her awakening was abrupt, almost startling. She felt as if some +one had touched her, though she realised In a moment that this was +impossible; for she was still alone. No one was in sight. Only from +the arbour a few feet away there came the sound of voices, and the +tinkle of tea-cups. + +Visitors evidently! Lady Bassett had returned and brought back a +couple of guests with her. She frowned impatiently over the discovery, +realising that she was a prisoner unless she elected to show herself. +For her corner behind the summer-house was bounded by the wall of the +compound, and there was no retreat save by the path that led to the +bungalow, and this wound in front of the arbour itself. + +It was very annoying, but there was no help for it. She knew very +few people in Simla, and neither of the voices that mingled with Lady +Bassett's was familiar to her. It did not take her long to decide that +she had no desire for a closer acquaintance with their owners. One +was a man's voice, sonorous and weighty, that sounded as if it were +accustomed to propound mighty problems from the pulpit. The other was +a woman's, high-pitched as the wail of a cat on a windy night, that +caused the listening girl to nestle back on her pillow with the +instant resolution to remain where she was until the intruders saw fit +to depart, even if by so doing she had to forego her tea. + +She opened her book with an unwarrantable feeling of resentment. Of +course Lady Bassett could not know she was there, and of course she +was at liberty to go whither she would in her own garden. But no one +likes to have their cherished privacy invaded even in ignorance. +And Lady Bassett might surely have concluded that she would be out +somewhere under the pines. + +Well, they probably would not stay for long, and she was in no hurry. +With a faint sigh of lingering annoyance she began to read. + +But the piercing, feline voice soon pounded flail-like into her +consciousness, scattering her thoughts with ruthless insistence. + +"Of course," it asserted, "it was the only thing he could possibly do. +No man with any decent feeling could have done otherwise. But it was a +little hard on him. Surely you agree with me there?" + +Lady Bassett's voice, soft and precise, made answer. "Indeed I think +he has behaved most generously in the matter. As you say, it would +have been but a gentleman's duty to make an offer of marriage, +considering all the circumstances. But he went further than that. He +actually insisted upon the arrangement. I suppose he felt bound to +do so as the poor child's father had placed her in his charge. She +is quite unformed still, and is very far from realising her grave +position. Indeed, I scarcely expected her to accept him without the +urgent reason for the match being explained to her; for it is quite +obvious that she does not care for him in that way. Poor child, she is +scarcely old enough to know the true meaning of love. It is very sad +for them both." + +A gentle sigh closed the sentence. Muriel's book had slid down upon +a cushion of pine-needles. She had raised herself in the hammock, and +was staring at the rustic woodwork of the summer-house as though she +saw a serpent twining there. + +There followed a brief silence. Then came the man's voice, deliberate +and resounding. + +"I am sure it must have caused you much anxiety, dear Lady Bassett. +With my knowledge of Nicholas Ratcliffe I confess that I should have +felt very grave misgivings as to whether he were endowed with the +chivalry to fulfil the obligation he had incurred. My esteem for him +has increased fourfold since I heard of his intention to shoulder his +responsibilities thus courageously. I had not deemed him capable of +such a sacrifice. I sincerely trust that he will be given strength to +carry it through worthily." + +"I shall not feel really easy till they are married," confessed Lady +Bassett. + +"Ah!" The sonorous voice broke in again with friendly reproof. +"But--pardon me--does not that indicate a certain lack of faith, Lady +Bassett? Since the young man has been led to see that the poor girl +has been so sadly compromised, surely we may trust that he will be +enabled to carry out his engagement. I consider it doubly praiseworthy +that he has taken this action on his own initiative. I may tell you in +confidence that I was seriously debating with myself as to whether it +were not my duty to approach him on the subject. But the news of his +engagement relieved me of all responsibility. It is no doubt something +of a sacrifice to a man of his stamp. We can only trust that he will +be duly rewarded." + +Here the shrill, feline voice suddenly made itself heard, tripping in +upon the deeper tones without ceremony. + +"Oh, but poor Nick! I can't picture him married and done for. He has +always been so gay. Why, look at him with Daisy Musgrave! I know for +a fact that he goes there every day at least, and she refusing to +receive any one else. I call it quite scandalous." + +"My dear! My dear!" It was Lady Bassett's turn to reprove. "Not quite +every day surely!" + +"I do assure you that isn't the smallest exaggeration," protested +her informant. "I had it from Mrs. Gybbon-Smythe who never misstates +anything. It was she who first told me of this engagement, and she +considered that Nick was positively throwing himself away. A mere +chivalrous fad she called it, and declared that it would simply ruin +his prospects. For it is well known that married officers are almost +invariably passed over by the powers that be. And he is regarded as so +promising too. Really I am almost inclined to agree with her. Just a +little more tea, dear, if I may. Your tea is always so delicious, and +doubly so out here under the pines." + +The soft jingling of tea-cups ensued, and through it presently came +Lady Bassett's gentle tones. They sounded as if she were smiling. + +"Well, all I can say is, I was unspeakably relieved when I heard that +Captain Ratcliffe had decided to treat the matter as a point of honour +and marry dear Muriel. She is a sweet girl and I am devoted to her, +which made it doubly hard for me. For I should scarcely have dared to +venture, after what has happened, to ask any of my friends to receive +her. Naturally, she shrinks from speaking of that terrible time, but +I understand that she spent no less than three nights alone in +the mountains with him. And that fact in itself would be more than +sufficient to blight any girl's career from a social standpoint. I +often think that the rules of our modern etiquette are very rigid, +though I know well that we cannot afford to disregard them." Again +came that soft, regretful sigh; and then in an apologetic tone, "_You_ +will say, I know, that for the good of the community this must be so, +but you are great enough to make allowances for a woman's weakness. +And I must confess that I cannot but feel the pity of it in such a +case as this." + +"Indeed, Lady Bassett, I think your feminine weakness does you +credit," was the kind response this elicited. "We must all of us +sympathise most deeply with the poor little wanderer, who, I am well +assured, could not be in better hands than she is at the present +moment. Your protecting care must, I am convinced, atone to her in a +very great measure for all that she has been called upon to undergo." + +"So sweet of you to say so!" murmured Lady Bassett. "Words cannot +express my reluctance to explain to her the actual state of affairs, +or my relief that I have been able to avoid doing so with a clear +conscience. Ah! Your cup is empty! Will you let me refill it? No? But +you are not thinking of leaving me yet, surely?" + +"Ah, but indeed we must. We are dining with the Boltons to-night, and +going afterwards to the Parkers' dance. You will be there of course? +How delightful! Then we shall soon meet again." + +The penetrating voice was accompanied by the sounds of a general move, +and there ensued the usual interchange of compliments at departure, +Lady Bassett protesting that it had been so sweet of her friends to +visit her, and the friends assuring her of the immense pleasure it had +given them to do so. All the things that are never said by people who +are truly intimate with each other were said several times over as +the little party moved away. Their voices receded into the distance, +though they continued for a while to prick through the silence that +fell like a velvet curtain behind them. + +Finally they ceased altogether. The summer-house was empty, and an +enterprising monkey slipped down the trunk of a tree and peered in. +But he was a nervous beast, and he had a feeling that the place was +not so wholly devoid of human presence as it seemed. He approached +cautiously, gibbering a little to himself. It looked safe enough, and +there was some dainty confectionery within. But, uneasy instinct still +urging him, he deemed it advisable to peer round the corner of the +summer-house before he yielded to the promptings of a rapacious +appetite. + +The next instant his worst fears were realised, and he was scudding up +the nearest tree in a panic. + +There, on the ground, face downwards on the pine-needles, lay a human +form. True, it was only a woman lying there. But her silence and her +stillness were eloquent of tragedy even to his monkey-intelligence. +From a safe height he sat and reviled her till he was tired for having +spoilt his sport. Finally, as she made no movement, he forgot +his grievance, and tripped airily away in quest of more thrilling +adventures. + +But the woman remained prone upon the ground for a long, long time. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE SUMMONS + + +Nick's fit of virtue evaporated with his third letter, and he got +up, feeling that he had spent an unprofitable afternoon. He also +discovered that he was thirsty, and while quenching his thirst he +debated with himself whether he would after all stroll round to the +Musgraves. He and Will were old school-fellows, and the friendship +between them was of the sort that wears forever. He was moreover +dissatisfied with regard to Daisy's appearance, and he wanted to know +the doctor's verdict. + +He had just decided to chance his welcome and go, when a note was +brought to him which proved to be from Will himself. + + "DEAR OLD NICK," it ran,--"I have been wanting to shake your + hand ever since I heard of your gallant return from the jaws + of death. Well done, old chap, if it isn't a stale sentiment! + + "Will you come and dine with us? Do thy diligence, for though + we are neither of us the best of company, we both want you. + The doctor has ordered Daisy and the youngster home. They are + to leave before the _chota-bursat_. Damn the _chota-bursat_, + and the whole beastly show!--Yours ever, + + "WILL" + +Nick considered this outburst with a sympathetic frown, and at once +despatched an answer in the affirmative. He had almost expected the +news. It had been quite plain to him that Daisy was not making any +progress towards the recovery of her strength. Her quick temperament +would not allow her to be listless, but he had not been deceived. And +he was glad that Will had come up at length to see for himself. + +It was horribly unlucky for them both, he reflected, for he knew +that Will could not accompany his wife to England. And the thought +presently flashed across him,--How would it go with him if he ever had +to part with Muriel in that way? Having once possessed her, could +he ever bear to let her go again? Would he not rather relinquish his +profession for her sake, dear though it was to him? He had made her +his own by sheer dogged effort. He had planned for her, fought for +her, suffered for her,--almost he had died for her. Now that she was +his at last, he knew that he could never let her go. + +He turned impetuously to a calendar on his writing-table, and ticked +off another day. There were only six left before his wedding-day. He +counted them with almost savage exultation. Finally he tossed down the +pencil with a sudden, quivering laugh, and stood up with wide-flung +arms. She was his--his--his! No power or force of circumstance could +ever come between them now. He would trample every obstacle underfoot. + +But there were no obstacles left. He had overcome them all. He had won +her fairly; and the reward of patience was very near. + +For the first time he slackened the bonds of his self-restraint; +and instantly the fire of his passion leapt up, free and fierce, +overflowing its confines in a wide-spread, molten stream that carried +all before it. + +When later he departed to keep his engagement, he was as a man +treading upon air. Not a dozen yards from the gate one of Lady +Bassett's servants met him and presented a note. He guessed it was +from Muriel, and the blood rose in a hot wave to his head and pounded +at his temples as he opened it. It was the first she had ever written +to him. + + "I must see you at once,--M." + +That was all. He dismissed the waiting native, and returned to his +room. There he wrote a note to Will Musgrave warning him that he had +been delayed. + +Then he suddenly straightened himself and stood tense. Something had +happened. He was sure of it. That urgent summons rang in his brain +like a cry for help. Some demand was about to be made upon him, a +demand which he might find himself ill-equipped to meet. He was not +lacking in courage. He could meet adversity without a quiver. But for +once he was not sure of himself. He was not prepared to resist any +sudden strain that night. + +Several minutes passed before he moved. Then, glancing down, he +saw her message fast gripped in his hand. With a swift, passionate +movement he carried the paper to his lips. And he remembered suddenly +how he had once held her hand there and breathed upon the little cold +fingers to give them life. He had commanded himself then. Was he any +the less his own master now? And was he fool enough to destroy all in +a moment that trust of hers which he had built up so laboriously? He +felt as if a fiend had ensnared him, and with a fierce effort he broke +free. Surely he was torturing himself in vain. She had only sent for +him to explain that she could not ride with him in the morning, or +some other matter equally trifling. He would go to her at once since +she had desired it, and set her mind at rest on whatever subject +happened to be troubling it. + +And so with steady tread he left the house once more. She had called +him for the first time. He would not keep her waiting. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE ORDEAL + + +The drawing-room was empty when he entered it, the windows standing +flung wide to the night. Strains of dance music were wafted in from +somewhere lower down the hill, and he guessed that Lady Bassett would +be from home. The pine-trees of the compound stood black and silent. +There seemed to be a hush of expectancy in the air. + +He stood with his back to the room and his face to the mountains. The +moon was still below the horizon, but stars blazed everywhere with a +marvellous brightness. It was a night for dreams, and he thought with +a quickening heart of the nights that were coming when they two would +be alone once more among the hills, no longer starved and fleeing +for their lives, but wandering happily together in an enchanted world +where the past was all forgotten, and the future gleamed like the +peaks of Paradise. + +At sound of a quiet footfall, he turned back into the room. Muriel had +entered and was closing the door behind her. At first sight he fancied +that she was ill, so terribly did her deep mourning and heavy hair +emphasise her pallor. But as she moved forward he reassured himself. +It was growing late. Doubtless she was tired. + +He went impetuously to meet her, and in a moment he had her hands +in his; but they lay in his grasp cold and limp, with no responding +pressure. Her great eyes, as they looked at him, were emotionless +and distant, remote as the lights of a village seen at night across a +far-reaching plain. She gave him no word or smile of welcome. + +A sudden dark suspicion flashed through his brain, and he drew her +swiftly to the light, looking at her closely, searchingly. + +"What have you been doing?" he said. + +She fathomed his suspicion, and faintly smiled. "Nothing--nothing +whatever. I have never touched opium since the night you--" + +He cut in sharply, as if the reminiscence hurt him. "I beg your +pardon. Well, what is it then? There's something wrong." + +She did not contradict him. Merely with a slight gesture of weariness, +she freed herself and sat down. + +Nick remained on his feet, looking down at her, waiting grimly for +enlightenment. + +It did not come very readily. Seconds had passed into minutes before +she spoke, and then her words did not bear directly upon the matter in +hand. + +"I hope it was quite convenient to you to come to-night. I was a +little afraid you would have an engagement." + +He remembered the urgency of her summons and decided that she spoke +thus conventionally to gain time. On another occasion he might +have humoured such a whim, but to-night it goaded him almost beyond +endurance. Surely they had passed that stage, he and she. + +With an effort he controlled himself, but it sounded in his voice as +he made reply. + +"My engagement to you stands before any other. What is it you want to +say to me?" + +Her expression changed slightly at his words, and a shade of +apprehension flitted across her face. She threw him a swift upward +glance, half-scared, half-questioning. Unconsciously her hands locked +themselves together. + +"I want you not to be vexed, Nick," she said, in a low voice. + +He made an abrupt movement. "My dear girl, don't be silly. What's the +trouble? Let me hear it and have done." + +His tone was reassuring. She looked up at him with more confidence. + +"Yes, I am silly," she acknowledged. "I'm perfectly idiotic to fancy +for a moment that it can make any difference to you. Nick, I have been +thinking things over seriously, and--and--I find that I can't marry +you after all. I hope you won't mind, though of course--" she uttered +a little laugh that was piteously insincere--"I know you will feel +bound to say you do. But--anyhow--you needn't say it to me, because I +understand. I thought it was only fair to let you know at once." + +"Thank you," said Nick, and there was that in his voice which was like +the sudden snapping of a tense spring. + +She saw his hands clench with the words, and an overwhelming sense +of danger swept over her. Instinctively she started to her feet. If a +tiger had leapt in upon her through the window she could not have been +more terrified. + +Nick took a single stride towards her, and she stopped as if struck +powerless. His face was the face she had once seen bent over a man in +his death-agony, convulsed with passion, savage, merciless,--the face +of a devil. + +She shrank away from him in nameless terror, gasping and +panic-stricken. "Nick," she whispered, "are you--mad?" + +He answered her jerkily in a strangled voice that was like the snarl +of a beast. "Yes--I am mad. If you try to run away from me now--I +won't answer for myself." + +She gazed at him with widening eyes. "But, but--" she faltered--"I--I +don't understand. Oh, Nick, you frighten me!" + +It was the cry of a child, lost, bewildered, piteous. Had she +withstood him, had she sought to escape, the demon in him would have +burst the last restraining bond, and have shattered in one moment of +unshackled violence all the chivalrous patience which during the last +few weeks he had spent his whole strength to achieve. + +But that cry of desolation pierced straight through his madness, +cutting deeper than reproach or protest, wounding him to the heart. + +With a sound that was half-sob, half-groan, he turned his back upon +her and covered his face. + +For a space of seconds he stood so, not moving, seeming not even to +breathe. And Muriel, steadying herself by the mantelpiece, watched him +with a panting heart. + +Then abruptly, moving with a quick, light tread that made no sound, he +crossed the room to one of the wide-flung windows and stopped there. + +From across the quiet garden there came the strains of "The Blue +Danube," fitful, alluring, plaintive--that waltz to which countless +lovers have danced and wooed and whispered through the years. Muriel +longed intensely to shut it out, to stop her ears, to make some noise +to drown it. Her nerves were all on edge, and she felt as if its +persistent sweetness would drive her mad. + +Surely Nick felt the same; but if he did, he made no sign. He stood +without movement with his face to the night, gripping the woodwork of +the window with both hands, every bone of them standing out in sharp, +skeleton lines. + +She watched him, fascinated, for a long time, but he did not stir from +his tense position. He seemed to have utterly forgotten her presence +in the room behind him. And still that maddening waltz kept on and on +and on till she felt sick and dazed with listening to it. It seemed as +if for the rest of her life she would never again be free from those +haunting strains. + +The soft shutting of the window made her start and quiver. Nick had +moved at last, and her heart began to throb thick and fast as he +turned. She tried to read his face, but she could not even see +it. There was a swimming mist before her eyes, and her limbs felt +powerless, heavy as lead. + +In every nerve, she felt him drawing near, and in an agony of +helplessness she awaited him, all the surging horror of that night +when he had drugged her rushing back upon her with tenfold force. +Again she saw him as she had seen him then, monstrous, silent, +terrible, a man of superhuman strength, whose mastery appalled +her. Again in desperate fear she shrank from him, seeking wildly, +fruitlessly, for a way of escape. + +And then came the consciousness of his arm about her, supporting her; +and the voice that had quieted her wildest delirium was speaking in +her ear. + +"The goblins are all gone, dear," she heard him say. "Don't be +frightened." + +He led her gently to a sofa and made her sit down, bending over her +and softly rubbing her cold cheek. + +"Tell me when you're better," he said, "and we'll talk this thing out. +But don't be frightened anyway. It's all right." + +The tenderness of voice and touch, the sudden cessation of all +tension, the swift putting to flight of her fear, all combined to +produce in her a sense of relief so immense that the last shred of her +self-control went from her utterly. She laid her head down upon the +cushions and burst into a storm of tears. + +Nick's hand continued to stroke and soothe, but he said no more while +her paroxysm of weeping lasted. He who was usually so ready of speech, +so quick to console, found for once no words wherewith to comfort her. + +Only when her distress had somewhat spent itself, he bent a little +lower and dried her tears with his own handkerchief, his lips +twitching as he did it, his eyes flickering so rapidly that it was +impossible to read their expression. + +"There!" he said at last. "There's nothing to cry about. Finish what +you were saying when I interrupted you. I think you were in the middle +of throwing me over, weren't you? At least, you had got through that +part of it, and were just going to tell me why." + +His tone was reassuringly flippant. + +Looking up at him, she saw the old kindly, quizzical look on his face. +He met her eyes, nodding shrewdly. + +"Let's have it," he said, "straight from the shoulder. You're tired of +me, eh?" + +She drew back from him, but with no gesture of shrinking. "I'm tired +of everything--everything," she said, a little passionate quiver in +her voice. "I wish--I wish with all my heart, you had left me to die." + +"Is that the grievance?" said Nick. He sat down on the head of the +sofa, and drove his fist into the cushion. "If I could explain things +to you, I would. But you're such a chicken, aren't you, dear, and +about as easily scared? Since when have you harboured this grudge +against me?" + +The gentle banter of his tone did not deceive her into imagining that +she could trifle with him, nor was she addicted to trifling. She +made answer with a certain warmth of indignation that seemed to have +kindled on its own initiative and wholly without her volition. + +"I haven't, I don't. I'm not so absurd. It isn't that at all." + +"You're not tired of me?" queried Nick. + +"No." + +"If I were to die to-morrow for instance--and there's no telling, you +know, Muriel,--you'd be a little sorry?" + +Again, though scarcely aware of it, she resented the question. "Why do +you ask me that? Of course I should be sorry." + +"Of course," acquiesced Nick. "But all the king's horses and all the +king's men wouldn't bring me back again. That's the worst of being +mortal. You can't dance at your own funeral." + +"What do you mean?" There was a note of exasperation in Muriel's +voice. She saw that he had an object in view, but his method of +attaining it was too tortuous for her straightforward understanding. + +He explained himself with much patience. His mood had so completely +changed that she could barely recall to mind the vision that had so +appalled her but a few minutes before. + +"What I mean is that it's infernal to think that some one may be +shedding precious tears on your grave and you not there to see. +I've often wondered if one could get a ticket of leave for such an +occasion." He smiled down at her with baffling directness. "I should +value those tears unspeakably," he said. + +Muriel made a slight movement of impatience. The discussion seemed to +her inconsequent and unprofitable. + +Nick began to enumerate his points. "You're not tired of me--though +I see I'm boring you hideously; put up with it a little longer, I've +nearly finished--and you'd shed quite a respectable number of tears +if I were to die young. Yes, I am young though as ugly as Satan. I +believe you think I'm some sort of connection, don't you? Is that why +you don't want to marry me?" + +He put the question with startling suddenness, and Muriel glanced up +quickly, but was instantly reassured. He was no more formidable at +that moment than a grinning schoolboy. Still she did not feel wholly +at her ease with him. She had a curious suspicion that he was in some +fashion testing her. + +"No," she answered, after a moment. "It is nothing of that sort." + +"Quite sure there is a reason?" he asked quizzically. + +Her white cheeks flushed. "Yes, of course. But--I would rather not +tell you what it is." + +"Quite so," said Nick. "I suppose that also is 'only fair'?" + +Her colour deepened. He made her feel unaccountably ashamed. "I will +tell you if you wish to know," she said reluctantly. "But I would +rather not." + +Nick made an airy gesture. "Not for the world! My intelligence +department is specially fitted for this sort of thing. Besides, I know +exactly what happened. It was something like this." He passed his +hand over his face, then turned to her with a faint, wry smile so +irresistibly reminiscent of Lady Bassett that Muriel gasped with a +sudden hysterical desire to laugh. + +He silenced her by beginning to speak in soft, purring accents. "You +know, darling Muriel, I have never looked upon Nicholas Ratcliffe as +a marrying man. He is such a gay butterfly." (This with an indulgent +shake of the head.) "Indeed, I have heard dear Mrs. Gybbon-Smythe +describe him as a shocking little flirt. And they say he is fond of +his glass too, but let us hope this is an exaggeration. I know for a +fact that he has a very violent temper, and this may have given +rise to the rumour. I assure you, dearest, he is quite formidable, +notwithstanding his size. But there, if I tell you any more you will +think I am prejudiced against him, whereas we are really the greatest +friends--the greatest possible friends. I only thought it kind to warn +you not to expect too much. It is a mistake so many young girls make, +and I want you to be as happy as you can, poor child." + +Muriel was laughing helplessly when he stopped. The mimicry of voice +and action was so perfect, so free from exaggeration, so sublimely +spontaneous. + +Nick did not laugh with her. Behind his mask of banter he was +watching, watching closely. He had clad himself in jester's garb to +feel for the truth. Perhaps she realised something of this as +she recovered herself, for again that glance, half-questioning, +half-frightened, flashed up at him as she made reply. + +"No, Nick. She never said that, indeed. I wouldn't have cared if she +had. It was only--only--" + +"I know," he broke in abruptly. "If it wasn't that, there is only one +thing left that it could have been. I don't want you to tell me. It's +as plain as daylight. Let me tell you instead. It's all for the sake +of your poor little personal pride. I know--yes, I know. They've been +throwing mud at you, and it's stuck. You'd sooner die than marry me, +wouldn't you? But what will you do if I refuse to set you free?" + +She turned suddenly crimson. "You--you wouldn't, Nick! You couldn't! +You haven't--the right." + +"Haven't I?" said Nick, with an odd smile. "I thought I had." + +He looked down at her, and a queer little flame leaped up like an evil +spirit in his eyes, flickered an instant, and was gone. "I thought I +had," he said again, in a different tone. "But we won't quarrel about +that. Tell me what you want to do." + +Her answer came with a vehemence that perhaps he had hardly expected. +"Oh, I want to get away--right away. I want to go home. I--I hate this +place." + +"And every one in it?" suggested Nick. + +"Almost." Muriel spoke recklessly, even defiantly. She was fighting +for her freedom, and the battle was infinitely harder than she had +anticipated. + +He nodded. "The sole exception being Mrs. Musgrave. Do you know Mrs. +Musgrave is going home? You would like to go with her." + +Muriel looked at him with sudden hope. "Alone with her?" she said. + +"Oh, I'm not going," declared Nick. "I'm going to Khatmandu for my +honeymoon." + +The hope died out of Muriel's eyes. "Don't--jeer at me, Nick," she +said, in a choked voice. "I can't bear it." + +"Jeer!" said Nick. "I!" He reached down suddenly and took her hand. +The light sparkled on the ring he had given her, and he moved it +slowly to and fro watching it. + +"I am going to ask you to take it back," she said. + +He did not raise his eyes. "And I am going to refuse," he answered +promptly. "I don't say you must wear it, but you are to keep it--not +as a bond, merely in remembrance of a promise which you will make to +me." + +"A promise--" she faltered. + +Still he did not look up. He was watching the stones with eyes +half-shut. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment. "I will let you go on the sole +condition that you give me this promise." + +She began to tremble a little. "What is it?" she whispered. + +He glanced at her momentarily, but his expression was enigmatical. She +felt as if his look lighted and dwelt upon something beyond her. + +"Simply this," he said. "You'll laugh, I daresay; but if you are able +to laugh it won't hurt you to promise. I want your word of honour that +if you ever change your mind about marrying me, you will come to me +like a brave woman and tell me so." + +Thus, quite calmly, he made known to her his condition, and in the +amazed silence with which she received it he continued to flash hither +and thither the wonderful rays that shone from the gems upon her hand. +He did not appear to be greatly concerned as to what her answer would +be. Simply with an inscrutable countenance he waited for it. + +"Is it a bargain?" he asked at last. + +She started with an involuntary gesture of shrinking. "Oh, no, Nick! +How could I promise you that? You know I shall never change my mind." + +He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "That isn't the point under +discussion. If it's an impossible contingency, it costs you the less +to promise." + +He kept her hand in his as he said it, though she fidgeted to be free. +"Please, Nick," she said earnestly, "I would so much rather not." + +"You prefer to marry me at once?" he asked, and suddenly it seemed to +her that this was the alternative to which he meant to drive her. + +She rose in a panic, and he rose also, still keeping her hand. His +face looked like a block of yellow granite. + +"Must it--must it--be one or the other?" she panted. + +He looked at her under flickering eyelids. "I have said it," he +remarked. + +Her resistance flagged, sank, rose again, and finally died away. After +all, why should she hesitate? What was there in such an undertaking as +this to send the blood so wildly to her heart? + +"Very well," she said faintly at last. "I promise. But--but--I never +shall change my mind, Nick--never--never." + +He was still looking at her with veiled, impenetrable eyes. He paid no +attention to her protest. It was as if he had not so much as heard it. + +"You've done your part," he said. "Now hear me do mine. I swear to +you--before God--that I will never marry you unless you ask me to." + +He bent with the words, and solemnly, reverently, he pressed his lips +upon the hand he held. + +Muriel waited, half-frightened still, and wholly awestruck. She did +not know Nick in this mood. + +But when he straightened himself again, the old whimsical smile was on +his face, and she breathed a sigh of relief. With a quick, caressing +movement he took her by the shoulders. + +"That's over then," he said lightly. "Turn over and start another +page. Go back to England, go back to school; and let them teach you to +be young again." + +They were his last words to her. Yet an instant longer he waited, and +very deep down in her heart something that was hidden there stirred +and quivered as a blind creature moves at the touch of the sun. It +awoke a vague pain within her, that was all. + +The next moment Nick had turned upon his heel and was departing. + +She heard him humming a waltz tune under his breath as he went away +with his free British swagger. And she knew with no sense of elation +that she had gained her point. + +For good or ill he had left her, and he would not return. + + + + +PART III + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +AN OLD FRIEND + + +"There!" said Daisy, standing back from the table to review her +handiwork with her head on one side. "I may be outrageously childish, +but if Blake fails to appreciate this masterpiece of mine, I shall +feel inclined to turn him out-of-doors, and leave him to spend the +night on the step." + +Muriel, curled up in the old-fashioned window-seat, looked round with +her low laugh. "It's snowing hard," she remarked. + +Daisy did not heed her. "Come and look at it," she said. + +The masterpiece in question consisted of an enormous red scroll +bearing in white letters the words: "Welcome to the Brave." + +"It never before occurred to me that Blake was brave," observed Daisy. +"He is so shy and soft and retiring. I can't somehow feel as if I am +going to entertain a lion. He ought to be here by this time. Let's go +and hang my work of art in the hall." + +She slipped her hand through Muriel's arm, and glanced at her sharply +when she felt it tremble. + +"It will be good to see him again, won't it?" she said. + +"Yes," Muriel agreed, but there was a little tremor in her voice as +well. + +Very vividly were the circumstances under which she had last seen this +man in her mind that night. Eight months that were like as many years +stretched between that tragic time and the present, but the old wild +horror had still the power to make her blood turn cold, the old wound +had not lost its ache. These things had made a woman of her before +her time, but yet she was not as other women. It seemed that she was +destined all her life to live apart, and only to look on at the joys +of others. They did not attract her, and she had no heart for gaiety. +Yet she was not cold, or Daisy had not found in her so congenial a +companion. But even Daisy seldom penetrated behind the deep reserve +that had grown over the girl's sad young heart. They were close +friends, but their friendship lay mainly in what they left unsaid. +For all her quick warmth, Daisy too had her inner shrine--a place so +secret that she herself never entered it save as it were by stealth. + +But something of Muriel's mood she understood on that bitter night +in January on which they awaited the coming of Blake Grange, and her +close hand-pressure conveyed as much as they passed out together into +the little hall that glowed so snugly in the firelight. + +"He is sure to be frozen, poor boy," she said. "I hope Jim Ratcliffe +won't forget to send the motor to the station as he promised." + +"I am quite sure he never forgets anything," Muriel declared, with +reassuring confidence. + +Daisy laughed lightly. "Yes, he's very dependable, deliciously solid, +isn't he? A trifle domineering perhaps, but all doctors are. They +rule us weak women with a rod of iron. I am a little afraid of Dr. Jim +myself, and most unfortunately he knows it." + +Muriel's silence expressed a certain scepticism that provoked another +laugh from Daisy. She was almost frivolously light-hearted that night. + +"It's a fact, I assure you. Have you never noticed how docile I am +in his presence? I always feel as if I want to confess all my sins to +him. I should like intensely to have his opinion upon some of them. I +think it would do me good." + +"Then why not ask for it?" suggested Muriel. + +"For the reason aforementioned--a slavish timidity." Daisy broke off +to carol a few bars of a song. "I've known the Ratcliffe family ever +since I became engaged to Will," she said presently. "Jim Ratcliffe, +you know, was left his guardian, and he was always very good to him. +Will made his home with them and he and Nick are great pals, just like +brothers. I should think Dr. Jim had his hands full with the two of +them." Again Daisy stopped to sing. Muriel was stooping over the fire. +It was seldom that Nick's name was mentioned between them, though the +fact that Daisy had placed herself and her baby in the hands of +his half-brother formed a connecting link which could not always be +ignored. She always dropped into silence when a reference was made +to him. Not in the most casual conversation had Daisy ever heard her +utter his name. + +Having successfully fixed her message of welcome in a prominent +position, she joined the girl in front of the fire. Her face was +flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Muriel thought that she had never +seen her look so well or so happy. + +"You're quite excited," she said. + +Daisy put up a hand to her hot cheek. "Yes, isn't it absurd? I hope +Dr. Jim won't come with him, or he will be cross. But I can't help it. +Blake and I have been chums all our lives, and of course I am glad to +see him after all this while. So nice, too, not to have Lady Bassett +looking on." + +There was a spice of venom in this, over which Muriel smiled in her +sad way. + +"Does she disapprove?" she asked. + +Daisy nodded impatiently. "She chose altogether to overlook the fact +that we are first cousins. It was intolerable. But--" again came her +light laugh--"everything is intolerable till you learn to shrug your +shoulders and laugh. Hark! Surely I heard something!" + +Both listened intently. Footsteps were approaching the door. Daisy +sprang to open it. + +But it was only the evening post, and she came back holding a letter +with a very unwonted expression of disappointment. + +"From Will," she said. "I forgot it was mail night. I don't suppose +there is anything very exciting in it." + +She pushed the flimsy envelope into the front of her dress and fell +again to listening. + +"Can he have missed the train? Surely it's getting very late. A fog on +the line perhaps. No! What's that? Ah! It really is this time. That's +the horn, and, yes, Jim Ratcliffe's voice." + +In a moment she had the door open again, and was out upon the step +crying welcome to her guest. + +Muriel crouched a little lower over the fire. Her hands were fast +gripped together. It was more of an ordeal than she had thought it +possibly could be. + +An icy blast blew in through the open door, and she heard Dr. +Ratcliffe's voice, sharp and curt, ordering Daisy back into the +house. Then came another voice, slow and soft as a woman's, and for an +instant Muriel covered her face, overwhelmed by bitter memory. + +When she looked up they were entering the hall together, Daisy, +radiant, eager, full of breathless questioning; Blake, upright, +soldierly, magnificent, wearing the shy, pleased smile that she so +well remembered. + +He did not at once see her, and she stood hesitating, till Daisy, who +was clinging to her cousin's arm, turned swiftly round and called her. + +"Muriel, dear, where are you? Why are you hiding yourself? See, Blake! +Here is Muriel Roscoe! You knew we were living together?" + +He saw her then, and came across to her, with both hands outstretched. + +"Forgive me, Miss Roscoe," he said, with his pleasant smile. "You know +how glad I am to meet you again." + +He looked down at her with eyes full of frank and friendly sympathy, +and the grasp of his hands was such that she felt it for long after. +It warmed her through and through, but she could not speak just then, +and with ready understanding he turned back to Daisy. + +"Dr. Ratcliffe told me you had sent him to fetch me from the station," +he said. "I am immensely grateful to you and to him." + +Daisy was greeting the doctor with much animation and a hint of +mischief. + +"I knew you would come," she laughed. "You never trust me to take care +of myself, do you?" + +He brushed some flakes of snow from her dress. "Events prove me to be +justified," he remarked dryly. "Since Will has put you in my care, I +labour under a twofold responsibility. What possessed you to go out in +that murderous north-easter?" + +He frowned at her heavily, his black brows meeting, but +notwithstanding her avowal of a few minutes before, Daisy only +grimaced in return. He was generally regarded as somewhat formidable, +this gruff, square-shouldered doctor, with his iron-grey hair and +black moustache, and keenly critical eyes. There was no varnish in his +curt speech, no dissimulation in any of his dealings. It was said +of him that he never sugared his pills. But his popularity was +wide-spread nevertheless. His help was sought in a thousand ways +outside his profession. To see his strong face melt into a smile was +like sunshine on a gloomy day, the village mothers declared. + +But Daisy's gay effrontery did not manage to provoke it at that +moment. + +"You have no business to take risks," he said. "How's the boy?" + +Daisy sobered instantly. "His teeth have been worrying him rather +to-day. _Ayah_ is with him. I left her crooning him to sleep. Will you +go up?" + +Jim Ratcliffe nodded and turned aside to the stairs. But he had not +reached the top when Muriel overtook him, moving more quickly than was +her wont. + +"Let me come with you, doctor," she said. + +He put his hand on her arm unceremoniously. "Miss Roscoe," he said, "I +have a message for you--from my scapegrace Olga. She wants to know +if you will play hockey in her team next Saturday. I have promised to +exert my influence--if I have any--on her behalf." + +Muriel looked at him in semi-tragic dismay. "Oh, I can't indeed. Why, +I haven't played for ages,--not since I was at school. Besides--" + +"How old are you?" he cut in. + +"Nearly twenty," she told him. "But--" + +He brought his hand down sharply on her shoulder. "I shall never call +you Miss Roscoe again. You obtained my veneration on false pretences, +and you have lost it for ever. Now look here, Muriel!" Arrived at the +top of the stairs, he stood still and confronted her with that smile +of his that so marvellously softened his rugged face. "I am thirty +years older than you are, and I haven't lived for any part of +them with my eyes shut. I've been wanting to give you some +advice--medical advice--for a long time. But you wouldn't have it. And +now I'm not going to offer it to you. You shall take the advice of a +friend instead. You join Olga's hockey team, and go paper-chasing with +her too. The monkey is a rare sportswoman. She'll give you a good run +for your money. Besides, she has set her heart on having you, and +she is a young woman that likes her own way, though, to be sure, she +doesn't always get it. Come, you can't refuse when a friend asks you." + +It was difficult, certainly, but Muriel plainly desired to do so. She +had escaped from the whirling vortex of life with strenuous effort, +and dragged herself bruised and aching to the bank. She did not want +to step down again into even the minutest eddy of that ruthless +flood. Moreover, in addition to this morbid reluctance she lacked the +physical energy that such a step demanded of her. + +"It's very kind of your little daughter to think of asking me," she +said. "But really, I shouldn't be any good. I get tired so quickly. +No, there's nothing the matter with me," seeing his intent look. "I'm +not ill. I never have been actually ill. Only--" her voice quivered a +little--"I think I always shall be tired for the rest of my life." + +"Skittles!" he returned bluntly. "That isn't what's the matter with +you. Go out into the open air. Go out into the north-east wind and +sweep the snow away. Shall I tell you what is wrong with you? You're +stiff from inaction. It's a species of cramp, my dear, and there's +only one remedy for it. Are you going to take it of your own accord, +or must I come round with a physic spoon and make you?" + +She laughed a little, though the deep pathos of her shadowed eyes +never varied. Daisy's merry voice rose from the lower regions gaily +chaffing her cousin. + +"Goodness, Blake! I shouldn't have known you. You're as gaunt as +a camel. Haven't you got over your picnic at Fort Wara yet? You're +almost as scanty a bag of bones as Nick was six months ago." + +Blake's answer was inaudible. Dr. Ratcliffe did not listen for it. +He had seen the swift look of horror that the brief allusion had sent +into the girl's sad face, and he understood it though he made no sign. + +"Very well," he said, turning towards the nursery. "Then I take you +in hand from this day forward. And if I don't find you in the +hockey-field on Saturday, I shall come myself and fetch you." + +There was nothing even vaguely suggestive of Nick about him, but +Muriel knew as surely as if Nick had said it that he would keep his +word. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE EXPLANATION + + +"Now," said Daisy briskly, "you two will just have to entertain each +other for a little while, for I am going up to sit with my son while +_ayah_ is off duty." + +"Mayn't we come too?" suggested her cousin, as he rose to open the +door. + +She stood a moment and contemplated him with shining eyes. "You +are too magnificent altogether for this doll's house of ours," she +declared. "I am sure this humble roof has never before sheltered such +a lion as Captain Blake Grange, V.C." + +"Only an ass in a lion's skin, my dear Daisy," said Grange modestly. + +She laughed. "An excellent simile, my worthy cousin. I wish I had +thought of it myself." + +She went lightly away with this thrust, and Grange, after a brief +pause, turned slowly back into the room. + +Muriel was seated in a low chair before the fire. She was working at +some tiny woollen socks, knitting swiftly in dead silence. + +He moved to the hearthrug, and stood there, obviously ill at ease. A +certain shyness was in his nature, and Muriel's nervousness reacted +upon him. He did not know how to break the silence. + +At length, with an effort, he spoke. "You heard about Nick Ratcliffe's +wound, I expect, Miss Roscoe?" + +Muriel's hands leapt suddenly and fell into her lap. "Nick Ratcliffe! +When was he wounded? No, I have heard nothing." + +He looked down at her with an uneasy suspicion that he had lighted +upon an unfortunate subject. + +"I thought you would have heard," he said. "Didn't Daisy know? He +came back to us from Simla--got himself attached to the punitive +expedition. I was on the sick list myself, so did not see him, but +they say he fought like a dancing dervish, and did a lot of damage +too. Every one thought he would have the V.C., but there was a rumour +that he refused it." + +"And--he was wounded, you say?" Muriel's voice sounded curiously +strained. Her knitting lay jumbled together in her lap. Her dark face +was lifted, and it seemed to Grange, unskilled observer though he was, +that he had never seen deeper tragedy in any woman's eyes. + +Somewhat reluctantly he made reply. "He had his arm injured by a +sword-thrust at the very end of the campaign. He made light of it for +ever so long till things began to look serious. Then he had to give +in, and had a pretty sharp time of it, I believe. He's better again +now, though, so his brother told me this evening. I never heard any +details. I daresay he's all right again." He stooped to pick up a +completed sock that had fallen. "He's the sort of chap who always +comes out on top," he ended consolingly. + +Muriel stiffened a little as she sat. She had a curious longing to +hear more, and an equally curious reluctance to ask for it. + +"I never heard anything about it--naturally," she remarked. + +Grange, having fitted the sock on to two fingers, was examining it +with a contemplative air. It struck her abruptly that he was trying to +say something. She waited silently, not without apprehension. She had +no idea as to how much he knew of what had passed between herself and +Nick. + +"I say, Miss Roscoe," he blurted out suddenly, "do you hate talking +about these things--very badly, I mean?" + +She looked up at him, and was surprised to see emotion on his face. It +had an odd effect upon her, placing her unaccountably at her ease with +him, banishing all her stiffness in a moment. She remembered with a +quick warmth at her heart how she had always liked this man in those +far-off days of her father's protection, how she had always found +something reassuring in his gentle courtesy. + +"No," she said, after a moment, speaking with absolute sincerity. "I +can't bear to with--most people; but I don't think I mind with you." + +She saw his pleasant smile for an instant. He laid the sock down upon +her knee, and in doing so touched and lightly pressed her hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. "I know I'm not good at expressing +myself, but please believe that I wouldn't hurt you for the world. +Miss Roscoe, I have brought some things with me I think you will like +to have--things that belonged to your father. Sir Reginald Bassett +entrusted them to me--left them, in fact, in my charge, as he found +them. I was coming home, and I asked leave to bring them to you. +Perhaps you would like me to fetch them?" + +She was on her feet as he asked the question, on her face such a look +of eagerness as it had not worn for many weary months. + +"Oh, please--if you would!" she said, her words falling fast and +breathless. "It has been--such a grief to me--that I had nothing of +his to--to treasure." + +He turned at once to the door. The desolation that those words of hers +revealed to him went straight to his man's heart. Poor little girl! +Had the parting been so infernally hard as even now to bring that look +to her eyes? Was her father's memory the only interest she had left +in her sad young life? And all the evening, save for that first brief +moment of their meeting, he had been thinking her cold, impassive, +even cynical. + +With a deep pity in his soul he departed on his errand. + +Returning with the soft tread which was his peculiarity, he surprised +her with her face in her hands in an attitude of such abandonment that +he drew back hesitating. But, suddenly aware of him, she sprang up +swiftly, with no sign of tears upon her face. + +"Oh, come in, come in!" she said impatiently. "Why do you stand +there?" + +She ran forward to meet him with hands hungrily outstretched, and +he put into them those trifles which were to her so infinitely +precious--a cigarette-case, a silver match-box, a pen-knife, a little +old prayer-book very worn at the edges, with all the gilt faded from +its leaves. She gathered them to her breast closely, passionately. +All but the prayer-book had been her gifts to the father she had +worshipped. With a wrung heart she called to mind the occasion upon +which each had been offered, his smile of kindly appreciation, the +old-world courtliness of his thanks. With loving hands she laid them +down one by one, lingering over each, seeing them through a blur of +tears. She was no longer conscious of Grange, as reverently, even +diffidently, she opened last of all the little shabby prayer-book that +her father had been wont to take with him on all his marches. She knew +that he had cherished it as her mother's gift. + +It opened upon a scrap of white heather which marked the Service for +the Burial of the Dead. Her tears fell upon the faded sprig, and she +brushed her hand swiftly across her eyes, looking more closely as +certain words underlined caught her attention. Other words had been +written by her father's hand very minutely in the margin. + +The passage underlined was ... "not to be sorry as men without hope, +for them that sleep ..." and in a moment she guessed that her father +had made that mark on the day of her mother's death. It was like a +message to her, the echo of a cry. + +The words in the margin were so small that she had to carry them to +the light to read them. And then they flashed out at her as if +sprung suddenly to light on the white paper. There, in the beloved +handwriting, sure and indelible, she read it, and across the desert +of her heart, voiceless but insistent, there swept the hunger-cry of a +man's soul: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. + +It pulsed through her like an electric current, seeming to overwhelm +every other sensation, shutting her off as it were from the home-world +to which she had fled, how fruitlessly, for healing. Once more +skeleton fingers held hers, shifting to and fro, to and fro, slowly, +ceaselessly, flashing the deep rays that shone from ruby hearts hither +and thither. Once more--But she would not bear it! She was free! She +was free! She flung out the hand that once had worn those rubies, and, +resisting wildly, broke away from the spell that the words her father +had written had woven afresh for her. + +It might be true that Love conquered all things--he had believed +it--but ah, what had this uncanny force to do with Love? Love was a +pure, a holy thing, the bond imperishable--the Eternal Flame at which +all the little torches of the world are lighted. + +Moreover, there was no fear in Love, and she--she was sick with fear +whenever she encountered that haunting phantom of memory. + +With a start she awoke to the fact that she was not alone. Blake +Grange had taken her out-flung hand, and was speaking to her softly, +soothingly. + +"Don't grieve so awfully, Miss Roscoe," he urged, a slight break in +his own voice. "You're not left friendless. I know how it is. I've +felt like it myself. But it gets better afterwards." + +Muriel suffered him with a dawning sense of comfort. It surprised her +to see tears in his eyes. She wondered vaguely if they were for her. + +"Yes," she said, after a pause. "It does get better, I know, in a way. +Or at least one gets used to an empty heart. One gets to leave off +listening for what one will never, never hear any more." + +"Never is a dreary word," said Grange. + +She bent her head silently, and again his heart overflowed with pity +for her. He looked down at the hand that lay so passively in his. + +"I hope you will always think of me as a friend," he said. + +She looked up at him a quick gleam of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank +you," she said. "Yes, always." + +He still held her hand. "You know," he said, blundering awkwardly, "I +always blamed myself that--that I wasn't the one to be with you when +you escaped from Wara. I might have been. But I--I wasn't prepared to +pay the possible price." + +She was still looking at him with those aloof, tragic eyes of +hers. "I don't quite understand," she said, "I never did +understand--exactly--why Nick was chosen to protect me. I always +wished it had been you." + +"It ought to have been," Grange said, with feeling. "It should have +been. I blame myself. But Nick is a better fighter than I. He keeps +his head. Moreover, he's a savage in some respects. I wasn't savage +enough." + +He smiled with a hint of apology. + +Muriel repressed a shudder at his words. "I don't understand," she +said again. + +He hesitated. "It's a difficult thing to explain to you," he said +reluctantly. "You see, the fellow who took charge of you had to be +prepared for--well--anything. You know what devils those tribesmen +are. There was to be no chance of your falling into their hands. It +didn't mean just fighting for you, you understand. We would all have +done that to the last drop of our blood. But--your father--was forced +to ask of us--something more. And only Ratcliffe would undertake it. +He's a queer chap. I used to think him a rotter till I saw him fight, +and then I had to change my mind. That was, I believe, the main reason +why General Roscoe selected him as your protector. He knew he could +trust the fellow's nerve. The rest of us were like women compared to +Nick." + +He paused. Muriel's eyes had not flinched from his. She heard his +explanation as one not vitally concerned. + +"Have I made myself intelligible?" he asked, as she did not speak. + +"Do you mean I was to be shot if things went wrong?" she returned, in +her deep, quiet voice. + +He nodded. "It must have been that. Your father saw it in that light, +and so did we. Of course you are bound to see it too. But we stuck at +it--Marshall and I. There was only Nick left, and he volunteered." + +"Only Nick left!" she repeated slowly. "Nick would stick at nothing, +Captain Grange." + +"I honestly don't think he would," said Grange. "Still, you know, he's +awfully plucky. He would have gone any length to save you first." + +She drew back with a sudden shrinking of her whole body. "Oh, I know, +I know!" she said. "I sometimes think there is a devil in Nick." + +She turned aside, bending once more over her father's things, putting +them together with unsteady fingers. So this was the answer to the +riddle--the secret of his choice for her! She understood it all now. + +After a short pause, she spoke again more calmly. "Did Nick ever speak +to you about me?" + +"Never," said Grange. + +"Then please, Captain Grange"--she stood up again and faced +him--"never speak to me again about him. I--want to forget him." + +Very young and slight she looked standing there, and again he felt his +heart stir within him with an urgent pity. Vague rumours he had heard +of those few weeks at Simla during which her name and Nick Ratcliffe's +had been coupled together, but he had never definitely known what +had taken place. Had Nick been good to her, he wondered for the first +time? How was it that the bare mention of him was unendurable to +her? What had he done that she should shudder with horror when she +remembered him, and should seek thus with loathing to thrust him out +of her life? + +Involuntarily the man's hands clenched and his blood quickened. Had +the General's trust been misplaced? Was Nick a blackguard? + +Finding her eyes still upon him, he made her a slight bow that was +wholly free from gallantry. + +"I will remember your wish, Miss Roscoe," he said. "I am sorry I +mentioned a painful subject to you, though I am glad for you to know +the truth. You are not vexed with me, I hope?" + +Her eyes shone with sincere friendliness. "I am not vexed," she +answered. "Only--let me forget--that's all." + +And in those few words she voiced the desire of her soul. It was her +one longing, her one prayer--to forget. And it was the one thing of +all others denied to her. + +In the silence that followed, she was conscious of his warm and kindly +sympathy, and she was grateful for it, though something restrained her +from telling him so. + +Daisy, coming lightly in upon them, put an end to their tête-à-tête. +She entered softly, her face alight and tender, and laid her two hands +upon Grange's great shoulders as he sat before the fire. + +"Come upstairs, Blake," she whispered, "and see my baby boy. He's +sleeping so sweetly. I want you to see him first while he's good." + +He raised his face to her smiling, his hands on hers. "I am sure to +admire anything that belongs to you, Daisy," he said. + +"You're a dear old pal," responded Daisy lightly. "Come along." + +When they were gone Muriel spied Will Musgrave's letter lying on +the ground by Grange's chair as it had evidently fallen from Daisy's +dress. She went over and picked it up. It was still unopened. + +With an odd little frown she set it up prominently upon the +mantelpiece. + +"Does Love conquer after all?" she murmured to herself, and there was +a faint twist of cynicism about her lips as she asked the question. +There seemed to be so many forms of Love. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A HERO WORSHIPPER + + +"Well played! Oh, well played! Miss Roscoe, you're a brick." + +The merry voice of the doctor's little daughter Olga, aged fourteen, +shrilled across the hockey-ground, keen with enthusiasm. She was +speeding across the field like a hare to congratulate her latest +recruit. + +"I'm so pleased!" she cried, bursting through the miscellaneous crowd +of boys and girls that surrounded Muriel. "I wanted you to shoot that +goal." + +She herself had been acting as goal-keeper at her own end of the +field, a position of limited opportunities which she had firmly +refused to assign to the new-comer. A child of unusual character was +Olga Ratcliffe, impulsive but shrewd, with quick, pale eyes which +never seemed to take more than a brief glance at anything, yet which +very little ever escaped. At first sight Muriel had experienced a +certain feeling of aversion to her, so marked was the likeness this +child bore to the man whom she desired so passionately to shut out of +her very memory. But a nearer intimacy had weakened her antipathy +till very soon it had altogether disappeared. Olga had a swift and +fascinating fashion of endearing herself to all who caught her fancy +and, somewhat curiously, Muriel was one of the favoured number. What +there was to attract a child of her quick temperament in the grave, +silent girl in mourning who held aloof so coldly from the rest of the +world was never apparent. But that a strong attraction existed for her +was speedily evident, and Muriel, who was quite destitute of any +near relations of her own, soon found that a free admittance to the +doctor's home circle was accorded her on all sides, whenever she chose +to avail herself of it. + +But though Daisy was an immense favourite and often ran into the +Ratcliffes' house, which was not more than a few hundred yards away +from her own little abode, Muriel went but seldom. The doctor's wife, +though always kind, was too busy to seek her out. And so it had been +left to the doctor himself to drag her at length from her seclusion, +and he had done it with a determination that would take no refusal. +She did not know him very intimately, had never asked his advice, +or held any confidential talk with him. At the outset she had been +horribly afraid lest he should have heard of her engagement to Nick, +but, since he never referred to her life in India or to Nick as in any +fashion connected with herself, this fear had gradually subsided. She +was able to tell herself thankfully that Nick was dropping away from +her into the past, and to hope with some conviction that the great +gulf that separated them would never be bridged. + +Yet, notwithstanding this, she had a fugitive wish to know how her +late comrade in adversity was faring. Captain Grange's news regarding +him had aroused in her a vague uneasiness, which would not be quieted. + +She wondered if by any means she could extract any information from +Olga, and this she presently essayed to do, when play was over for the +day and Olga had taken her upstairs to prepare for tea. + +Olga was the easiest person in the world to deal with upon such a +subject. She expanded at the very mention of Nick's name. + +"Oh, do you know him? Isn't he a darling? I have a photograph of him +somewhere. I must try and find it. He is in fancy dress and standing +on his head--such a beauty. Weren't you awfully fond of him? He has +been ill, you know. Dad was very waxy because he wouldn't come home. +He might have had sick leave, but he wouldn't take it. However, he may +have to come yet, Dad says, if something happens. He didn't say what. +It was something to do with his wound. Dad wants him to leave the Army +and settle down on his estate. He owns a big place about twelve miles +away that an old great-aunt of his left him. Dad thinks a landowner +ought to live at home if he can afford to. And of course Nick might go +into Parliament too. He's so clever, and rich as well. But he won't do +it. So it's no good talking." + +Olga jumped off the dressing-table, and wound her arm impulsively +through Muriel's. "Miss Roscoe," she said coaxingly, "I do like you +most awfully. May I call you by your Christian name?" + +"Why, do!" Muriel said. "I should like it best." + +"Oh, that's all right," said Olga, well pleased. "I knew you weren't +stuck-up really. I hate stuck-up people, don't you? I'm awfully +pleased that you like Nick. I simply love him--better almost than any +one else. He writes to me sometimes, pages and pages. I never show +them to any one, and he doesn't show mine either. You see, we're pals. +But I can show you his photograph--the one I told you about. It's just +like him--his grin and all. Come up after tea, and I'll find it." + +And with her arm entwined in Muriel's she drew her, still talking +eagerly, from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +NEWS FROM THE EAST + + +"I have been wondering," Grange said in his shy, rather diffident way, +"if you would care to do any riding while I am here." + +"I?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. + +They were walking back from church together by a muddy field-path, and +since neither had much to say at any time, they had accomplished more +than half the distance in silence. + +"I know you do ride," Grange explained, "and it's just the sort of +country for a good gallop now and then. Daisy isn't allowed to, but I +thought perhaps you--" + +"Oh, I should like to, of course," Muriel said. "I haven't done any +riding since I left Simla. I didn't care to alone." + +"Ah! Lady Bassett rides, doesn't she? She is an accomplished +horsewoman, I believe?" + +"I don't know," Muriel's reply was noticeably curt. "I never rode with +her." + +Grange at once dropped the subject, and they became silent again. +Muriel walked with her eyes fixed straight before her. But she did not +see the brown earth underfoot or the bare trees that swayed overhead +in the racing winter wind. She was back again in the heart of the +Simla pines, hearing horses' feet that stamped below her window in the +dawning, and a gay, cracked voice that sang. + +Her companion's voice recalled her. "I suppose Daisy will stay here +for the summer." + +"I suppose so," she answered. + +Grange went on with some hesitation. "The little chap doesn't look as +if he would ever stand the Indian climate. What will happen? Will she +ever consent to leave him with the Ratcliffes?" + +"I am quite certain she won't," Muriel answered, with unfaltering +conviction. "She simply lives for him." + +"I thought so," Grange said rather sadly. "It would go hard with her +if--if--" + +Muriel's dark eyes flashed swift entreaty. "Oh, don't say it! Don't +think it! I believe it would kill her." + +"She is stronger, though?" he questioned almost sharply. + +"Yes, yes, much stronger. Only--not strong enough for that. Captain +Grange, it simply couldn't happen." + +They had reached a gate at the end of the field. Grange stopped before +it, and spoke with sudden, deep feeling. + +"If it does happen, Muriel," he said, using her Christian name quite +unconsciously, "we shall have to stand by her, you and I. You won't +leave her, will you? You would be of more use to her than I. Oh, +it's--it's damnable to see a woman in trouble and not be able to +comfort her." + +He brought his ungloved hand down upon the gate-post with a violence +that drew blood; then, seeing her face of amazement, thrust it hastily +behind him. + +"I'm a fool," he said, with his shy, semi-apologetic smile. "Don't +mind me, Miss Roscoe. You know, I--I'm awfully fond of Daisy, always +was. My people were her people, and when they died we were the only +two left, as it were. Of course she was married by that time, and +there are some other relations somewhere. But we've always hung +together, she and I. You can understand it, can't you?" + +Muriel fancied she could, but his vehemence startled her none the +less. She had not deemed him capable of such intensity. + +"I suppose you feel almost as if she were your sister," she remarked, +groping half-unconsciously for an explanation. + +Grange was holding the gate open for her. He did not instantly reply. + +Then, "I don't exactly know what that feels like," he said, with an +odd shame-facedness. "But in so far as that we have been playfellows +and chums all our lives, I suppose you might describe it in that way." + +And Muriel, though she wondered a little at the laborious honesty of +his reply, was satisfied that she understood. + +She was drifting into a very pleasant friendship with Blake Grange. +He seemed to rely upon her in an indefinable fashion that made their +intercourse of necessity one of intimacy. Moreover, Daisy's habits +were still more or less those of an invalid, and this fact helped very +materially to throw them together. + +To Muriel, emerging slowly from the long winter of her sorrow, the +growing friendship with this man whom she both liked and admired was +as a shaft of sunshine breaking across a grey landscape. Insensibly +it was doing her good. The deep shadow of a horror that once had +overwhelmed her was lifting gradually away from her life. In her +happier moments it almost seemed that she was beginning to forget. + +Grange's suggestion that they should ride together awoke in her a +keener sense of pleasure than she had known since the tragedy of Wara +had darkened her young life, and for the rest of the day she looked +forward eagerly to the resumption of this her favourite exercise. + +Daisy was delighted with the idea, and when on the following morning +Grange ransacked the town for suitable mounts and returned triumphant, +she declared gaily that she should take no further trouble for her +guest's entertainment. The responsibility from that day forth rested +with Muriel. + +Muriel was by no means loth to assume it. They got on excellently +together, and their almost daily rides became a source of keen +pleasure to her. Winter was fast merging into spring, and the magic +of the coming season was working in her blood. There were times when +a sense of spontaneous happiness would come over her, she knew not +wherefore. Jim Ratcliffe no longer looked at her with stern-browed +disapproval. + +She and Grange both became regular members of Olga's hockey team. They +shared most of their pursuits. Among other things she was learning the +accompaniments of his songs. Grange had a well-cultivated tenor voice, +to which Daisy the restless would listen for any length of time. + +Altogether they were a very peaceful trio, and as the weeks slipped on +it almost seemed as if the quiet home life they lived were destined to +endure indefinitely. Grange spoke occasionally of leaving, but Daisy +would never entertain the idea for an instant, and he certainly did +not press it very strongly. He was not returning to India before +September, and the long summer months that intervened made the date +of his departure so remote as to be outside discussion. No one ever +thought of it. + +But the long, quiet interval in the sleepy little country town, +interminable as it might feel, was not destined to last for ever. On +a certain afternoon in March, Grange and Muriel, riding home together +after a windy gallop across open country, were waylaid outside the +doctor's gate by one of the Ratcliffe boys. + +The urchin was cheering at the top of his voice and dancing +ecstatically in the mud. Olga, equally dishevelled but somewhat more +coherent, was seated on the gate-post, her long legs dangling. + +"Have you seen Dad? Have you heard?" was her cry. "Jimmy, come out of +the road. You'll be kicked." + +Both riders pulled up to hear the news, Jimmy squirming away from +the horses' legs after a fashion that provoked even the mild-tempered +Grange to a sharp reproof. + +"You haven't heard?" pursued Olga, ignoring her small brother's +escapade as too trifling to notice at such a supreme moment. "But you +haven't, of course, if you haven't seen Dad. The letter only came an +hour ago. It's Nick, dear old Nick! He's coming home at last!" In +her delight over imparting the information Olga nearly toppled over +backwards, only saving herself by a violent effort. "Aren't you glad, +Muriel? Aren't you glad?" she cried. "I was never so pleased in my +life!" + +But Muriel had no reply ready. For some reason her animal had become +suddenly restive, and occupied the whole of her attention. + +It was Grange who after a seconds hesitation asked for further +particulars. "What is he coming for? Is it sick leave?" + +Olga nodded. "He isn't to stay out there for the hot weather. It's +something to do with his wound. He doesn't want to come a bit. But he +is to start almost at once. He may be starting now." + +"Not likely," put in Jimmy. "The end of March was what he said. Dad +said he couldn't be here before the third week in April." + +"Oh, well, that isn't long, is it?" said Olga eagerly. "Not when you +come to remember that it's three years since he went away. I do think +they might have given him the V.C., don't you? Captain Grange, why +hasn't he got the V.C.?" + +Grange couldn't say, really. He advised her to ask the man himself. +He was observing Muriel with some uneasiness, and when she at length +abruptly waved her whip and rode sharply on as though her horse +were beyond her control, he struck spurs into his own and started in +pursuit. + +Muriel passed her own gate at a canter, but hearing Grange behind her +she soon reined in, and they trotted some distance side by side in +silence. + +But Grange was still uneasy. The girl's rigid profile had that stony, +aloof look that he had noted upon his arrival weeks before, and that +he had come to associate with her escape from Wara. + +Nevertheless, when she presently addressed him it was in her ordinary +tone and upon a subject indifferent to them both. She had received a +shock, he knew, but she plainly did not wish him to remark it. + +They rode quite soberly back again, and separated at the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A HARBOUR OF REFUGE + + +To Daisy the news that Grange imparted was more pleasing than +startling. "I knew he would come before long if he were a wise man," +she said. + +But when her cousin wanted to know what she meant, she would not tell +him. + +"No, I can't, Blake," was her answer. "I once promised Muriel never to +speak of it. She is very sensitive on the subject." + +Grange did not press for an explanation. It was not his way. He left +her moodily, a frown of deep dissatisfaction upon his handsome face. +Daisy did not spend much thought upon him. Her interests at that +time were almost wholly centred upon her boy who was so backward and +delicate that she was continually anxious about him. She was, in fact, +so preoccupied that she hardly noticed at dinner that Muriel scarcely +spoke and ate next to nothing. + +Grange remarked both facts, and his moodiness increased. When +Daisy went up to the nursery, he at once followed Muriel into the +drawing-room. She was standing by the window when he entered, a slim, +straight figure in unrelieved black; but though she must have heard +him, she neither spoke nor turned her head. + +Grange closed the door and came softly forward. There was an unwonted +air of resolution about him that made him look almost grim. He reached +her side and stood there silently. The wind had fallen, and the sky +was starry. + +After a brief silence Muriel dropped the blind and looked at him. +There was something of interrogation in her glance. + +"Shall we go into the garden?" she suggested. "It is so warm." + +He fell in at once with the proposal. "You will want a cloak," he +said. "Can I fetch you one?" + +"Oh, thanks! Anything will do. I believe there's one of Daisy's in the +hall." + +She moved across the room quickly, as one impatient to escape from a +confined space. Grange followed her. He was not smoking as usual. They +went out together into the warm darkness, and passed side by side +down the narrow path that wound between the bare flower-beds. It was +a wonderful night. Once as they walked there drifted across them a +sudden fragrance of violets. + +They reached at length a rustic gate that led into the doctor's +meadow, and here with one consent they stopped. Very far away a faint +wind was stirring, but close at hand there was no sound. Again, from +the wet earth by the gate, there rose the magic scent of violets. + +Muriel rested her clasped hands upon the gate, and spoke in a voice +unconsciously hushed. + +"I never realised how much I liked this place before," she said. +"Isn't it odd? I have been actually happy here--and I didn't know it." + +"You are not happy to-night," said Grange. + +She did not attempt to contradict him. "I think I am rather tired," +she said. + +"I don't think that is quite all," he returned, with quiet conviction. + +She moved, turning slightly towards him; but she said nothing, though +he obviously waited for some response. + +For awhile he was discouraged, and silence fell again upon them. Then +at length he braced himself for an effort. For all his shyness he was +not without a certain strength. + +"Miss Roscoe," he said, "do you remember how you once promised that +you would always regard me as a friend?" + +She turned fully towards him then, and he saw her face dimly in the +starlight. He thought she looked very pale. + +"I do," she said simply. + +In a second his diffidence fell away from him. He realised that the +ground on which he stood was firm. He bent towards her. + +"I want you to keep that promise of yours in its fullest sense +to-night, Muriel," he said, and his soft voice had in it almost a +caressing note. "I want you--if you will--to tell me what is the +matter." + +Muriel stood before him with her face upturned. He could not read her +expression, but he knew by her attitude that she had no thought of +repelling him. + +"What is it?" he urged gently. "Won't you tell me?" + +"Don't you know?" she asked him slowly. + +"I only know that what we heard this afternoon upset you," he +answered. "And I don't understand it. I am asking you to explain." + +"You will only think me very foolish and absurd." + +There was a deep quiver in the words, and he knew that she was +trembling. Very kindly he laid his hand upon her shoulder. + +"Can't you trust me better than that?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Her breathing became suddenly sharp and +irregular, and he realised that she was battling for self-control. + +"I don't know if I can make you understand," she said at last. "But I +will try." + +"Yes, try!" he said gently. "You won't find it so very difficult." + +She turned back to the gate, and leaned wearily upon it. + +"You are very kind. You always have been. I couldn't tell any one +else--not even Daisy. You see, she is--his friend. But you are +different. I don't think you like him, do you?" + +Grange hesitated a little. "I won't go so far as to say that," he +said finally. "We get on all right. I was never very intimate with the +fellow. I think he is a bit callous." + +"Callous!" Muriel gave a sudden hard shudder. "He is much worse than +callous. He is hideously, almost devilishly cruel. But--but--he isn't +only that. Blake, do you think he is quite human? He is so horribly, +so unnaturally strong." + +Grange heard the scared note in her voice, and drew very close to her. +"I think," he said quietly, "that--without knowing it--you exaggerate +both his cruelty and his strength. I know he is a queer chap. I once +heard it said of him that he has the eyes of a snake-charmer, and I +believe it more or less. But I assure you he is human--quite human. +And"--he spoke with unwonted emphasis--"he has no more power over +you--not an inch--than you choose to give him." + +Muriel uttered a faint sigh. "I knew I should never make you +understand." + +Grange was silent. He might have retorted that she had given him very +little information to go upon, but he forebore. There was an almost +colossal patience about this man. His silence had in it nothing of +resentment. + +After a few seconds Muriel went on, her voice very low. "I would give +anything--all I have--not to meet him when he comes back. But I don't +know how to get away from him. He is sure to seek me out. And I--I am +only a girl. I can't prevent it." + +Again there sounded that piteous quiver in her words. It was like the +cry of a lost child. Grange heard it, and clenched his hands, but he +did not speak. He was gazing straight ahead, stern-eyed and still. + +Muriel scarcely noticed his attitude. Having at length broken through +her barrier of reserve, she found a certain relief in speech. + +"I might go away, of course," she said. "I expect I shall do that, for +I don't think I could endure it here. But I haven't many friends. +My year in India seemed to cut me off from every one. It's a little +difficult to know where to go. And then, too, there is Daisy." + +She paused, and suddenly Grange spoke, with more abruptness than was +his wont. + +"Why do you think he is sure to seek you out? Did he ever say so?" + +She shivered. "No, he never said so. But--but--in a way I feel it. +He is so merciless. He always makes me think of an eagle swooping +down on its prey. No doubt you think me very fanciful and ridiculous. +Perhaps I am. But once--in the mountains--he told me that I belonged +to him--that he would not let me go, and--and--I have never been able +to forget it." + +Her voice sank, and it seemed to Grange that she was crying in the +darkness. Her utter forlornness pierced him to the heart. He leaned +towards her, trying ineffectually to see her face. + +"My dear little girl," he said gently, "don't be so distressed. He +deserves to be kicked for frightening you like this." + +"It's my own fault," she whispered back. "If I were stronger, or if +Daddy were with me--it would be different. But I am all alone. There +is no one to help me. I used to think it didn't matter what happened +to me, but I am beginning to feel it does." + +"Of course it does," Grange said. His hand felt along the rail for +hers, and, finding them, held them closely. Her weakness gave him +confidence. "Poor child!" he murmured softly. "Poor little girl! You +do want some one to take care of you." + +Muriel mastered herself with an effort. It was not often now that she +gave way so completely. + +"It's only now and then," she said. "It's better than it used to be. +Only somehow I got frightened when I heard that Nick was coming. I +daresay--when I begin to get used to the idea--I shan't mind it quite +so much. Never mind about my silly worries any more. No doubt I shall +get wiser as I grow older." + +She tried to laugh with the words, but somehow no laugh came. Grange's +great hand closed very tightly upon hers, and she looked up in +surprise. + +Almost instantly he began to speak, very humbly, but also very +resolutely. "Muriel," he said, "I'm an unutterable fool at expressing +things. I can only say them straight out and hope for the best. You +want a protector, don't you? And I--should like to be the one to +protect you if--if it were ever possible for you to think of me in +that light." + +He spoke with immense effort. He was afraid of scaring her, afraid of +hurting her desolate young heart, afraid almost of the very impulse +that moved him to speak. + +Absolute silence reigned when he ended. + +Muriel had become suddenly rigid, and so still that she did not seem +to breathe. For several seconds he waited, but still she made no sign. +He had not the remotest clue to guide him. He began to feel as if a +door had unexpectedly closed against him, not violently, but steadily, +soundlessly, barring him out. + +It was but a fleeting impression. In a few moments more it was gone. +She drew a long quivering breath, and turned slightly towards him. + +"I would rather trust myself to you," she said, "than to any one else +in the world." + +She spoke in her deep, sincere voice which gave him no doubt that she +meant what she said, and at once his own trepidation departed. He put +his arm around her, and pressed her close to him. + +"Come to me then," he said very tenderly. "And I will take such care +of you, Muriel, that no one shall ever frighten you again." + +She yielded to his touch as simply as a child, leaning her head +against him with a little, weary gesture of complete confidence. She +was desperately tired of standing alone. + +"I know I shall be safe with you," she whispered. + +"Quite safe, dear," he answered gravely. He paused a moment as though +irresolute; then, still holding her closely, he bent and kissed her +forehead. + +He did it very quietly and reverently, but at the action she started, +almost shrank. One of those swift flashes of memory came suddenly upon +her, and as in a vision she beheld another face bending over her--a +yellow, wrinkled face of terrible emaciation, with eyes of flickering +fire--eyes that never slept--and heard a voice, curiously broken +and incoherent that seemed to pray. She could not catch the words it +uttered. + +The old wild panic rushed over her, the old frenzied longing to +escape. With a sobbing gasp she turned in Grange's arms, and clung to +him. + +"Oh, Captain Grange," she panted piteously, "promise--promise you will +never let me go!" + +Her agitation surprised him, but it awaked in him a responsive +tenderness that compassed her with a strength bred rather of emergency +than habit. + +"My little girl, I swear I will never let you go," he said, with grave +assurance. "You are quite safe now. No one shall ever take you from +me." + +And it was to Muriel as if, after long and futile battling in the open +sea, she had drifted at last into the calm heaven which surely had +always been the goal of her desires. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AN OLD STORY + + +Jim Ratcliffe was in the drawing-room with Daisy when they returned. +He scrutinised them both somewhat sharply as they came in, but he made +no comment upon their preference for the garden. Very soon he rose to +take his leave. + +Grange accompanied him to the door, and Muriel, suddenly possessed by +an overwhelming sense of shyness, bent over Daisy and murmured a hasty +goodnight. + +Daisy looked at her for a moment. "Tired, dear?" + +"A little," Muriel admitted. + +"I hope you haven't been catching cold--you and Blake," Daisy said, as +she kissed her. + +Muriel assured her to the contrary, and hastened to make her escape. +In the hall she came face to face with Blake. He met her with a smile. + +"What! Going up already?" + +She nodded. Her face was burning. For an instant her hand lay in his. + +"You tell Daisy," she whispered, and fled upstairs like a scared bird. + +Grange stood till she was out of sight; then turned aside to the +drawing-room, the smile wholly gone from his face. + +Daisy, from her seat before the fire, looked up with her gay laugh. +"I'm sure there is a secret brewing between you two," she declared. "I +can feel it in my bones." + +Grange closed the door carefully. There was a queer look on his face, +almost an apprehensive look. He took up his stand on the hearthrug +before he spoke. + +"You are not far wrong, Daisy," he said then. + +She answered him lightly as ever. "I never am, my dear Blake. Surely +you must have noticed it. Well, am I to be let into the plot, or not?" + +He looked at her for a moment uneasily. "Of course we shall tell you," +he said. "It--it's not a thing we could very well keep to ourselves +for any length of time." + +A sudden gleam of understanding flashed into Daisy's upturned face, +and instantly her expression changed. With a swift, vehement movement +she sprang up and stood before him. + +"Blake!" she exclaimed, and in her voice astonishment, dismay, and +even reproach were mingled. + +He averted his eyes from hers. "Won't you congratulate me, Daisy?" he +said, speaking almost under his breath. + +Daisy had turned very white. She put out both hands, and leaned upon +the mantelpiece. + +"But, my dear Blake," she said, after a moment, "she is not for you." + +"What do you mean?" Grange's jaw suddenly set itself. He squared +his great shoulders as if instinctively bracing himself to meet +opposition. + +"I mean"--Daisy spoke very quietly and emphatically--"I mean, Blake, +that she is Nick's property. She belonged to Nick before ever you +thought of wanting her. I never dreamed that you would do anything +so shabby as to step in at the last moment, just when Nick is coming +home, and cut him out. How could you do such a thing, Blake? But +surely it isn't irrevocable? You can't have said anything definite?" + +Grange's face had become very stern. He no longer avoided her eyes. +For once he was really angry, and showed it. + +"You make a mistake," he told her curtly. "I have done nothing +whatever of which I am ashamed, or of which any man could be ashamed. +Certainly I have taken a definite step. I have proposed to her, and +she has accepted me. With regard to Nick Ratcliffe, I believe myself +that the fellow is something of a blackguard, but in any case she both +fears and hates him. He can have no shadow of a right over her." + +"You forget that he saved her life," said Daisy. + +"Is she to hold herself at his disposal on that account? I must say I +fail to see the obligation." + +There was even a hint of scorn in Grange's tone. At sound of it, Daisy +turned round and laid her hand winningly upon his arm. + +"Dear old boy," she said gently, "don't be angry. I'm not against +you." + +He softened instantly. It was not in him to harbour resentment against +a woman. He took her hand, and heaved a deep sigh. + +"No, Daisy," he said half sadly, "you mustn't be against me. I always +count on you." + +Daisy laughed a little wistfully. "Always did, dear, didn't you? Well, +tell me some more. What made you propose all of a sudden like this? +Are you--very much in love?" + +He looked at her. "Perhaps not quite as we used to understand the +term," he said, seeming to speak half-reluctantly. + +"Oh, we were very extravagant and foolish," rejoined Daisy lightly. +"I didn't mean quite in that way, Blake. You at least are past the age +for such feathery nonsense, or should be. I was--aeons and aeons ago." + +"Were you?" he said, and still he looked at her half in wonder, it +seemed, and half in regret. + +Daisy nodded at him briskly. The colour had come back to her face. +"Yes, I have arrived at years of discretion," she assured him. "And I +quite agree with Solomon that childhood and youth are vanity. But now +let us talk about this. Is she in love with you, I wonder? I must be +remarkably blind not to have seen it. How in the world I shall ever +face Nick again, I can't imagine." + +Grange frowned. "I'm getting a bit tired of Nick," he said moodily. +"He crops up everywhere." + +Daisy's face flushed. "Don't you ever again say a word against him in +my hearing," she said. "For I won't bear it. He may not be handsome +like you; but for all that, he's about the finest man I know." + +"Good heavens!" said Blake. "As much as that!" + +She nodded vehemently. "Yes, quite as much. And he loves her, too, +loves her with his whole soul. Perhaps you never knew that they would +have been married long ago in Simla if Muriel hadn't overheard some +malicious gossip and thrown him over. How in the world she made him +let her go I never knew, but she did it, though I believe it nearly +broke his heart. He came to me afterwards and begged me to keep her +with me as long as I could, and take care of her." + +"All this," broke in Grange, "is what you promised never to speak of?" + +"Yes," she admitted recklessly. "But it is what you ought to +know--what you must know--before you go any further." + +"It will make no difference to me," he observed. "It is quite obvious +that she never cared for him in the smallest degree. Why, my dear +girl, she hates the man!" + +Daisy gave vent to a sigh of exasperation. "When you come to talk +about women's feelings, Blake, you make me tired. You will never be +anything but a great big booby in that respect as long as you live." + +Grange became silent. He never argued with Daisy. She had always had +the upper hand. He watched her as she sat down again, her pretty face +in the glow of the fire; but though fully aware of the fact, she would +not look at him. + +"She is a dear girl, and you are not half good enough for her," she +said, stooping a little to the blaze. + +"I know that," he answered bluntly. "I wasn't good enough for you, +either, but you would have had me--once." + +She made a dainty gesture with one shoulder. "That also was aeons ago. +Why disturb that poor old skeleton?" + +He did not answer, but he continued to watch her steadily with eyes +that held an expression of dumb faithfulness--like the eyes of a dog. + +Daisy was softly and meditatively poking the fire. "If you marry her, +Blake," she said, "you will have to be enormously good to her. She +isn't the sort of girl to be satisfied with anything but the best." + +"I should do my utmost to make her happy," he answered. + +She glanced up momentarily. "I wonder if you would succeed," she +murmured. + +For a single instant their eyes met. Daisy's fell away at once, and +the firelight showed a swift deepening of colour on her face. + +As for Blake, he stood quite stiff for a few seconds, then with an +abruptness of movement unusual with him, he knelt suddenly down beside +her. + +"Daisy," he said, and his voice sounded strained, almost hoarse, +"you're not vexed about it? You don't mind my marrying? It isn't--you +know--it isn't--as if--" + +He broke off, for Daisy had jerked upright as if at the piercing of a +nerve. She looked at him fully, with blazing eyes. "How can you be so +ridiculous, Blake?" she exclaimed, with sharp impatience. "That was +all over and done with long, long ago, and you know it. Besides, even +if it hadn't been, I'm not a dog in the manger. Surely you know that +too. Oh, go away, and don't be absurd!" + +She put her hand against his shoulder, and gave him a small but +vehement push. + +He stood up again immediately, but he did not look hurt, and the +expression of loyalty in his eyes never wavered. + +There was a short pause before Daisy spoke again. + +"Well," she said, with a brief sigh, "I suppose it's no good crying +over spilt milk, but I wish you had chosen any girl in the world but +Muriel, Blake; I do indeed. You will have to write to Sir Reginald +Bassett. He is her guardian, subject to his wife's management. Perhaps +she will approve of you. She hated Nick for some reason." + +"I don't see how they can object," Grange said, in the moody tone he +always used when perplexed. + +"No," said Daisy. "Nor did Nick. But Lady Bassett managed to put a +spoke in his wheel notwithstanding. Still, if Muriel wants to marry +you--or thinks she does--she will probably take her own way. And +possibly regret it afterwards." + +"You think I shall not make her happy?" said Grange. + +Daisy hesitated a little. "I think," she said slowly, "that you are +not the man for her. However,"--she rose with another shrug--"I may +be wrong. In any case you have gone too far for me to meddle. I can't +help either of you now. You must just do what you think best." She +held out her hand. "I must go up now. Baby is restless to-night, and +may want me. Good-night." + +Blake stooped, and carried her hand softly and suddenly to his lips. +He seemed for an instant on the verge of saying something, but no +words came. There was a faint, half-mocking smile on Daisy's face +as she turned away. But she was silent also. It seemed that they +understood each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE SLEEP CALLED DEATH + + +It was an unspeakable relief to Muriel that, in congratulating her +upon her engagement, Daisy made no reference to Nick. She did not know +that this forbearance had been dictated long before by Nick himself. + +The days that followed her engagement had in them a sort of rapture +that she had never known before. She felt as a young wild creature +suddenly escaped from the iron jaws of a trap in which it had long +languished, and she rioted in the sense of liberty that was hers. Her +youth was coming back to her in leaps and bounds with the advancing +spring. + +She missed nothing in Blake's courtship. His gentleness had always +attracted her, and the intimacy that had been growing up between them +made their intercourse always easy and pleasant. They never spoke of +Nick. But ever in Muriel's heart there lay the soothing knowledge that +she had nothing more to fear. Her terrible, single-handed contests +against overwhelming odds were over, and she was safe. She was +convinced that, whatever happened, Blake would take care of her. Was +he not the protector she would have chosen from the beginning, could +she but have had her way? + +So, placidly and happily, the days drifted by, till March was nearly +gone; and then, sudden and staggering as a shell from a masked +battery, there fell the blow that was destined to end that peaceful +time. + +Very late one night there came a nervous knocking at Muriel's door, +and springing up from her bed she came face to face with Daisy's +_ayah_. The woman was grey with fright, and babbling incoherently. +Something about "baba" and the "mem-sahib" Muriel caught and instantly +guessed that the baby had been taken ill. She flung a wrap round her, +and hastened to the nursery. + +It was a small room opening out of Daisy's bedroom. The light was +turned on full, and here Daisy herself was walking up and down with +the baby in her arms. + +Before Muriel was well in the room, she stopped and spoke. Her face +was ghastly pale, and she could not raise her voice above a whisper, +though she made repeated efforts. "Go to Blake!" she panted. "Go +quickly! Tell him to fetch Jim Ratcliffe. Quick! Quick!" + +Muriel flew to do her bidding. In her anxiety she scarcely waited to +knock at Blake's door, but burst in upon him headlong. The room was in +total darkness, but he awoke instantly. + +"Hullo! What is it? That you, Muriel?" + +"Oh, Blake!" she gasped. "The child's ill. We want the doctor." + +He was up in a moment. She heard him groping for matches, but he only +succeeded in knocking something over. + +"Can't you find them?" she asked. "Wait! I'll get you a light." + +She ran back to her own room and fetched a candle. Her hands were +shaking so that she could scarcely light it. Returning, she found +Grange putting on his clothes in the darkness. He was fully as +flurried as she. + +As she set down the candle there arose a sudden awful sound in Daisy's +room. + +Muriel stood still. "Oh, what is that?" + +Grange paused in the act of dragging on his coat. "It's that damned +_ayah_," he said savagely. + +And in a second Muriel understood. Daisy's _ayah_ was wailing for the +dead. + +She put her hands over her ears. The dreadful cry seemed to pierce +right through to her very soul. Then she remembered Daisy, and turned +to go to her. + +Out in the passage she met the white-faced English servants huddling +together and whispering. One of them was sobbing hysterically. She +passed them swiftly by. + +Back in Daisy's room she found the _ayah_ crouched on the floor, and +rocking herself to and fro while she beat her breast and wailed. The +door that led into the nursery was closed. + +Muriel advanced fiercely upon the woman. She almost felt as if +she could have choked her. She seized her by the shoulders without +ceremony. The _ayah_ ceased her wailing for a moment, then recommenced +in a lower key. Muriel pulled her to her feet, half-dragged, half-led +her to her own room, thrust her within, and locked the door upon her. +Then she returned to Daisy. + +She found her sunk in a rocking-chair before the waning fire, softly +swaying to and fro with the baby on her breast. She looked at Muriel +entering, with a set, still face. + +"Has Blake gone?" she asked, still in that dry, powerless whisper. + +Muriel moved to her side, and knelt down. "He is just going," she +began to say, but the words froze on her lips. + +She remained motionless for a long second, gazing at the tiny, waxen +face on Daisy's breast. And for that second her heart stood still; for +she knew that the baby was dead. + +From the closed room across the passage came the muffled sound of the +_ayah's_ wailing. Daisy made a slight impatient movement. + +"Stir the fire," she whispered. "He feels so cold." + +But Muriel did not move to obey. Instead she held out her arms. + +"Let me take him, dear," she begged tremulously. Daisy shook her head +with a jealous tightening of her clasp. "He has been so ill, poor wee +darling," she whispered. "It came on so suddenly. There was no time +to do anything. But he is easier now. I think he is asleep. We won't +disturb him." + +Muriel said no more. She rose and blindly poked the fire. Then--for +the sight of Daisy rocking her dead child with that set, ashen face +was more than she could bear--she turned and stole away, softly +closing the door behind her. + +Again meeting the English servants hovering outside, she sent them +downstairs to light the kitchen fire, going herself to the dining-room +window to watch for the doctor. Her feet were bare and freezing, but +she would not return to her room for slippers. She felt she could not +endure that awful wailing at close quarters again. Even as it was, she +heard it fitfully; but from the nursery there came no sound. + +She wondered if Blake had gone across the meadow to the doctor's +house--it was undoubtedly the shortest cut--and tried to calculate how +long it would take him. + +The waiting was intolerable. She bore it with a desperate endurance. +She could not rid herself of the feeling that somehow Nick was near +her. She almost expected to see him come lightly in and stand beside +her. Once or twice she turned shivering to assure herself that she was +really alone. + +There came at last the click of the garden-gate. They had come across +the drenched meadows. In a transient gleam of moonlight she saw the +two figures striding towards her. Grange stopped a moment to fasten +the gate. The doctor came straight on. + +She ran to the front door and threw it open. The wind blew swirling +all about her, but she never felt it, though her very lips were numb +and cold. + +"It's too late!" she gasped, as he entered. "It's too late!" + +Jim Ratcliffe took her by the shoulders and forced her away from the +open door. + +"Go and put something on," he ordered, "instantly!" + +There was no resisting the mastery of his tone. She responded to it +instinctively, hardly knowing what she did. + +The _ayah's_ paroxysm of grief had sunk to a low moaning when she +re-entered her room. It sounded like a dumb creature in pain. Hastily +she dressed, and twisted up her hair with fingers that she strove in +vain to steady. + +Then noiselessly she crept back to the nursery. + +Daisy was still rocking softly to and fro before the ore, her piteous +burden yet clasped against her heart. The doctor was stooping over +her, and Muriel saw the half-eager, half-suspicious look in Daisy's +eyes as she watched him. She was telling him in rapid whispers what +had happened. + +He listened to her very quietly, his keen eyes fixed unblinking upon +the baby's face. When she ended, he stooped a little lower, his hand +upon her arm. + +"Let me take him," he said. + +Muriel trembled for the answer, remembering the instant refusal with +which her own offer had been met. But Daisy made no sort of protest. +She seemed to yield mechanically. + +Only, as he lifted the tiny body from her breast, a startled, almost +a bereft look crossed her face, and she whispered quickly, "You won't +let him cry?" + +Jim Ratcliffe was silent a moment while he gazed intently at the +little lifeless form he held. Then very gently, very pitifully, but +withal very steadily, his verdict fell through the silent room. + +"He will never cry any more." + +Daisy was on her feet in a moment, the agony in her eyes terrible to +see. "Jim! Jim!" she gasped, in a strangled voice. "He isn't dead! +My little darling,--my baby,--the light of my eyes; tell me--he +isn't--dead!" + +She bent hungrily over the burden he held, and then gazed wildly into +his face. She was shaking as one in an ague. + +Quietly he drew the head-covering over the baby's face. "My dear," he +said, "there is no death." + +The words were few, spoken almost in an undertone; but they sent a +curious, tingling thrill through Muriel--a thrill that seemed to +reach her heart. For the first time, unaccountably, wholly intangibly, +she was aware of a strong resemblance between this man whom she +honoured and the man she feared. She almost felt as if Nick himself +had uttered the words. + +Standing dumbly by the door, she saw the doctor stoop to lay the poor +little body down in the cot, saw Daisy's face of anguish, and the +sudden, wide-flung spread of her empty arms. + +The next moment, her woman's instinct prompting her, she sprang +forward; and it was she who caught the stricken mother as she fell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CREED OF A FIGHTER + + +It was growing very hot in the plains. A faint breeze born at sunset +had died away long ago, leaving a wonderful, breathless stillness +behind. The man who sat at work on his verandah with his shirt-sleeves +turned up above his elbows sighed heavily from time to time as if +he felt some oppression in the atmosphere. He was quite a young man, +fair-skinned and clean-shaven, with an almost pathetically boyish look +about him, a wistful expression as of one whose youth still endured +though the zest thereof was denied to him. His eyes were weary and +bloodshot, but he worked on steadily, indefatigably, never raising +them from the paper under his hand. + +Even when a step sounded in the room behind him, he scarcely looked +up. "One moment, old chap!" He was still working rapidly as he spoke. +"I've a toughish bit to get through. I'll talk to you in a minute." + +There was no immediate reply. A man's figure, dressed in white linen, +with one arm quite invisible under the coat, stood halting for a +moment in the doorway, then moved out and slowly approached the table +at which the other sat. + +The lamplight, gleaming upwards, revealed a yellow face of many +wrinkles, and curious, glancing eyes that shone like fireflies in the +gloom. + +He stopped beside the man who worked. "All right," he said. "Finish +what you are doing." + +In the silence that followed he seemed to watch the hand that moved +over the paper with an absorbing interest. The instant it rested he +spoke. + +"Done?" + +The man in the chair stretched out his arms with a long gesture of +weariness; then abruptly leapt to his feet. + +"What am I thinking of, keeping you standing here? Sit down, Nick! +Yes, I've done for the present. What a restless beggar you are! Why +couldn't you lie still for a spell?" + +Nick grimaced. "It's an accomplishment I have never been able to +acquire. Besides, there's no occasion for it now. If I were going to +die, it would be a different thing, and even then I think I'd +rather die standing. How are you getting on, my son? What mean these +hieroglyphics?" + +He dropped into the empty chair and pored over the paper. + +"Oh, you wouldn't understand if I told you," the other answered. +"You're not an engineer." + +"Not even a greaser of wheels." admitted Nick modestly. "But you +needn't throw it in my teeth. I suppose you are going to make your +fortune soon and retire--you and Daisy and the imp--to a respectable +suburb. You're a very lucky chap, Will." + +"Think so?" said Will. + +He was bending a little over his work. His tone sounded either absent +or dubious. + +Nick glanced at him, and suddenly swept his free right hand across the +table. "Put it away!" he said. "You're overdoing it. Get the wretched +stuff out of your head for a bit, and let's have a smoke before +dinner. I'll bring her out to you next winter. See if I don't!" + +Will turned towards him impulsively. "Oh, man, if you only could!" + +"Only could!" echoed Nick. "I tell you I will. Ten quid on it if you +like. Is it done?" + +But Will shook his head with a queer, unsteady smile. "No, it +isn't. But come along and smoke, or you will be having that infernal +neuralgia again. It was confoundedly good of you to look me up like +this when you weren't fit for it." + +Nick laughed aloud. "Man alive! You don't suppose I did it for your +sake, do you? Don't you know I wanted to break the journey to the +coast?" + +"Odd place to choose!" commented Will. + +Nick arose in his own peculiarly abrupt fashion, and thrust his hand +through his friend's arm. + +"Perhaps I thought a couple of days of your society would cheer me +up," he observed lightly. "I daresay that seems odd too." + +Will laughed in spite of himself. "Well, you've seen me with my +nose to the grindstone anyhow. You can tell Daisy I'm working like a +troop-horse for her and the boy! Jove! What a knowing little beggar +that youngster used to be! He isn't very strong though, Daisy writes." + +"How often do you hear?" asked Nick. + +"Oh, the last letter came three weeks ago. They were all well then, +but she didn't stop to say much because Grange was there. He is +staying with them, you know." + +"You haven't heard since then?" There was just a hint of indignation +in Nick's query. + +Will shook his head. "No. She's a bad correspondent, always was. I +write by every mail, and of course, if there were anything I ought +to know, she would write too. But they are leading a fairly humdrum +existence just now. She can't have much to tell me." + +Nick changed the subject. "How long has Grange been there?" + +"I don't know. Some time, I think. But I really don't know. They are +very old pals, you know, he and Daisy. There was a bit of a romance +between them, I believe, years ago, when she was in her teens. Their +people wouldn't hear of it because they were first cousins, so it +fizzled out. But they are still great friends. A good sort of fellow, +I always thought." + +"Too soft for me," said Nick. "He's like a well-built ship adrift +without a rudder. He's all manners and no grit--the sort of chap who +wants to be pushed before he can do anything. I often ached to kick +him when we were boxed up at Wara." + +Will smiled. "The only drawback to indulging in that kind of game +is that you may get kicked back, and a kick from a giant like Grange +would be no joke." + +Nick looked supremely contemptuous. "Fellows like Grange don't kick. +They don't know how. That's why I had to leave him alone." + +He turned into Will's sitting-room and stretched himself out upon an +ancient _charpoy_ furnished with many ancient cushions that stood by +the window. + +Will gave him a cigarette, and lighted it. "I wonder how many nights I +have spent on that old shake-down," he remarked, as he did it. + +Nick glanced upwards. "Last year?" + +Will nodded. "It was like hell," he said, with terrible simplicity. "I +came straight back here, you know, after Daisy left Simla. I suppose +the contrast made it worse. Then, too, the sub was ill, and it meant +double work. Well," with another sigh, "we pulled through somehow, +and I suppose we shall again. But, Nick, Daisy couldn't possibly stand +this place more than four months out of the twelve. And as for the +kiddie--" + +Nick removed his cigarette to yawn. + +"You won't be here all your life, my son," he said. "You're a rising +man, remember. There's no sense in grizzling, anyhow, and you're +getting round-shouldered. Why don't you do some gymnastics? You've +got a swimming bath. Go and do a quarter of a mile breast-stroke every +day. Jupiter! What wouldn't I give to"--He broke off abruptly. "Well, +I'm not going to cry for the moon either. There's the _khit_ on the +verandah. What does he want?" + +Will went out to see. Nick, idly watching, saw the native hand him +something on a salver which Will took to the lamp by which he had been +working. Dead silence ensued. From far away there came the haunting +cry of a jackal, but near at hand there was no sound. A great +stillness hung upon all things. + +To Nick, lying at full length upon the cushions, there presently came +the faint sound of paper crackling, and a moment later his friend's +voice, pitched very low, spoke to the waiting servant. He heard the +man softly retire, and again an intense stillness reigned. + +He could not see Will from where he lay, and he smoked on placidly for +nearly five minutes in the belief that he was either answering +some communication or looking over his work. Then at last, growing +impatient of the prolonged silence, he lifted his voice without +moving. + +"What in the world are you doing, you unsociable beggar? Can't you +tear yourself away from that beastly work for one night even? Come in +here and entertain me. You won't have the chance to-morrow." + +There was no reply. Only from far away there came again the weird yell +of a jackal. For a few seconds more Nick lay frowning. Then swiftly +and quietly he arose, and stepped to the window. + +There he stopped dead as if in sudden irresolution; for Will was sunk +upon his knees by the table with his head upon his work and his arms +flung out with clenched hands in an attitude of the most utter, the +most anguished despair. He made no sound of any sort; only, as Nick +watched, his bowed shoulders heaved once convulsively. + +It was only for a moment that Nick stood hesitating. The next, obeying +an impulse that he never stopped to question, he moved straight +forward to Will's side; and then saw--what he had not at first seen--a +piece of paper crumpled and gripped in one of his hands. + +He bent over him and spoke rapidly, but without agitation. "Hullo, old +boy! What is it! Bad news, eh?" + +Will started and groaned, then sharply turned his face upwards. It was +haggard and drawn and ghastly, but even then its boyishness remained. + +He spoke at once, replying to Nick in short, staccato tones. "I've +had a message--just come through. It's the kiddie--our little chap--he +died--last night." + +Nick heard the news in silence. After a moment he stooped forward and +took the paper out of Will's hand, thrusting it away without a glance +into his own pocket. Then he took him by the arm and hoisted him up. +"Come inside!" he said briefly. + +Will went with him blindly, too stricken to direct his own movements. + +And so he presently found himself crouching forward in a chair staring +at Nick's steady hand mixing whiskey and water in a glass at his +elbow. As Nick held it towards him he burst into sudden, wild speech. + +"I've lost her!" he exclaimed harshly. "I've lost her! It was only the +kiddie that bound us together. She never cared a half-penny about +me. I always knew I should never hold her unless we had a child. And +now--and now--" + +"Easy!" said Nick. "Easy! Just drink this like a good chap. There's no +sense in letting yourself go." + +Will drank submissively, and covered his face. "Oh, man," he whispered +brokenly, "you don't know what it is to be despised by the one being +in the world you worship." + +Nick said nothing. His lips twitched a little, that was all. + +But when several miserable seconds had dragged away and Will had +not moved, he bent suddenly down and put his arm round the huddled +shoulders. "Keep a stiff upper lip, old chap," he urged gently. "Don't +knock under. She'll be coming to you for comfort presently." + +"Not she!" groaned Will. "I shall never get near her again. She'll +never come back to me. I know. I know." + +"Don't be a fool!" said Nick still gently. "You don't know. Of course +she will come back to you. If you stick to her, she'll stick to you." + +Will made a choked sound of dissent. Nevertheless, after a moment he +raised his quivering face, and gripped hard the hand that pressed his +shoulder. "Thanks, dear fellow! You're awfully good. Forgive me for +making an ass of myself. I--I was awfully fond of the little nipper +too. Poor Daisy! She'll be frightfully cut up." He broke off, biting +his lips. + +"Do you know," he said presently in a strained whisper, "I've wanted +her sometimes--so horribly, that--that I've even been fool enough to +pray about it." + +He glanced up as he made this confidence, half expecting to read +ridicule on the alert face above him, but the expression it wore +surprised him. It was almost a fighting look, and wholly free from +contempt. + +Nick seated himself on the edge of the table, and smote him on the +shoulder. "My dear chap," he said, with a sudden burst of energy, +"you're only at the beginning of things. It isn't just praying now and +then that does it. You've got to keep up the steam, never slack for an +instant, whatever happens. The harder going it is, the more likely +you are to win through if you stick to it. But directly you slack, +you lose ground. If you've only got the grit to go on praying, praying +hard, even against your own convictions, you'll get it sooner or +later. You are bound to get it. They say God doesn't always grant +prayer because the thing you want may not do you any good. That's +gammon--futile gammon. If you want it hard enough, and keep on +clamouring for it, it becomes the very thing of all others you +need--the great essential. And you'll get it for that very reason. +It's sheer pluck that counts, nothing else--the pluck to go on +fighting when you know perfectly well you're beaten, the pluck to hang +on and worry, worry, worry, till you get your heart's desire." + +He sprang up with a wide-flung gesture. "I'm doing it myself," he +said, and his voice rang with a certain grim elation. "I'm doing it +myself. And God knows I sha'n't give Him any peace till I'm satisfied. +I may be small, but if I were no bigger than a mosquito, I'd keep on +buzzing." + +He walked to the end of the room, stood for a second, and came slowly +back. + +Will was looking at him oddly, almost as if he had never seen him +before. + +"Do you know," he said, smiling faintly, "I always thought you were a +rotter." + +"Most people do," said Nick. "I believe it's my physiognomy that's +at fault. What can any one expect from a fellow with a face like an +Egyptian mummy? Why, I've been mistaken for the devil himself before +now." He spoke with a semi-whimsical ruefulness, and, having spoken, +he went to the window and stood there with his face to the darkness. + +"Hear that jackal, Will?" he suddenly said. "The brute is hungry. You +bet, he won't go empty away." + +"Jackals never do," said Will, with his weary sigh. + +Nick turned round. "It shows what faithless fools we are," he said. + +In the silence that followed, there came again to them, clear through +the stillness, and haunting in its persistence, the crying of the +beast that sought its meat from God. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +A SCENTED LETTER + + +There is no exhaustion more complete or more compelling than the +exhaustion of grief, and it is the most restless temperaments that +usually suffer from it the most keenly. It is those who have watched +constantly, tirelessly, selflessly, for weeks or even months, for whom +the final breakdown is the most utter and the most heartrending. + +To Daisy, lying silent in her darkened room, the sudden ending of the +prolonged strain, the cessation of the anxiety that had become a part +of her very being, was more intolerable than the sense of desolation +itself. It lay upon her like a physical, crushing weight, this absence +of care, numbing all her faculties. She felt that the worst had +happened to her, the ultimate blow had fallen, and she cared for +nought besides. + +In those first days of her grief she saw none but Muriel and the +doctor. Jim Ratcliffe was more uneasy about her than he would +admit. He knew as no one else knew what the strain had been upon the +over-sensitive nerves, and how terribly the shock had wrenched them. +He also knew that her heart was still in a very unsatisfactory state, +and for many hours he dreaded collapse. + +He was inclined to be uneasy upon Muriel's account as well, at first, +but she took him completely by surprise. Without a question, without a +word, simply as a matter of course, she assumed the position of +nurse and constant companion to her friend. Her resolution and steady +self-control astonished him, but he soon saw that these were qualities +upon which he could firmly rely. She had put her own weakness behind +her, and in face of Daisy's utter need she had found strength. + +He suffered her to have her way, seeing how close was the bond of +sympathy between them, and realising that the very fact of supporting +Daisy would be her own support. + +"You are as steady-going as a professional," he told her once. + +To which she answered with her sad smile, "I served my probation in +the school of sorrow last year. I am only able to help her because I +know what it is to sit in ashes." + +He patted her shoulder and called her a good girl. He was growing very +fond of her, and in his blunt, unflattering way he let her know it. + +Certain it was that in those terrible days following her bereavement, +Daisy clung to her as she had never before clung to any one, scarcely +speaking to her, but mutely leaning upon her steadfast strength. + +Muriel saw but little of Blake though he was never far away. He +wandered miserably about the house and garden, smoking endless +cigarettes, and invariably asking her with a piteous, dog-like +wistfulness whenever they met if there were nothing that he could do. +There never was anything, but she had not the heart to tell him +so, and she used to invent errands for him to make him happier. She +herself did not go beyond the garden for many days. + +One evening, about three weeks after her baby's death, Daisy heard his +step on the gravel below her window and roused herself a little. + +"Who is taking care of Blake?" she asked. + +Muriel glanced down from where she sat at the great listless figure +nearing the house. "I think he is taking care of himself," she said. + +"All alone?" said Daisy. + +"Yes, dear." + +Daisy uttered a sudden hard sigh. "You mustn't spend all your time +with me any longer," she said. "I have been very selfish. I forgot. Go +down to him, Muriel." + +Muriel looked up, struck by something incomprehensible in her +tone. "You know I like to be with you," she said. "And of course he +understands." + +But Daisy would not be satisfied. "That may be. But--but--I want you +to go to him. He is lonely, poor boy. I can hear it in his step. I +always know." + +Wondering at her persistence, and somewhat reluctant, Muriel rose +to comply. As she was about to pass her, with a swift movement Daisy +caught her hand and drew her down. + +"I want you--so--to be happy, dearest," she whispered, a quick note of +passion in her voice. "It's better for you--it's better for you--to +be together. I'm not going to monopolise you any longer. I will try +to come down to-morrow, if Jim will let me. It's hockey day, isn't it? +You must go and play as usual, you and he." + +She was quivering with agitation as she pressed her lips to the girl's +cheek. Muriel would have embraced her, but she pushed her softly away. +"Go--go, dear," she insisted. "I wish it." + +And Muriel went, seeing that she would not otherwise be pacified. + +She found Blake depressed indeed, but genuinely pleased to see her, +and she walked in the garden with him in the soft spring twilight till +the dinner hour. + +Just as they were about to go in, the postman appeared with foreign +letters for them both, which proved to be from Sir Reginald and Lady +Bassett. + +The former had written briefly but very kindly to Grange, signifying +his consent to his engagement to his ward, and congratulating him upon +having won her. To Muriel he sent a fatherly message, telling her of +his pleasure at hearing of her happiness, and adding that he hoped she +would return to them in the following autumn to enable him to give her +away. + +Grange put his arm round his young _fiancée_ as he read this passage +aloud, but she only stood motionless within it, not yielding to his +touch. It even seemed to him that she stiffened slightly. He looked at +her questioningly and saw that she was very pale. + +"What is it?" he asked gently. "Will that be too soon for you?" + +She met his eyes frankly, but with unmistakable distress. "I--I didn't +think it would be quite so soon, Blake," she faltered. "I don't want +to be married at present. Can't we go on as we are for a little? Shall +you mind?" + +Blake's face wore a puzzled look, but it was wholly free from +resentment. He answered her immediately and reassuringly. + +"Of course not, dear. It shall be just when you like. Why should you +be hurried?" + +She gave him a smile of relief and gratitude, and he stooped and +kissed her forehead with a soothing tenderness that he might have +bestowed upon a child. + +It was with some reluctance that she opened Lady Bassett's letter +in his presence, but she felt that she owed him this small mark of +confidence. + +There was a strong aroma of attar of roses as she drew it from the +envelope, and she glanced at Grange with an expression of disgust. + +"What is the matter?" he asked. "Nothing wrong, I hope?" + +"It's only the scent," she explained, concealing a faint sense of +irritation. + +He smiled. "Don't you like it? I thought all women did." + +"My dear Blake!" she said, and shuddered. + +The next minute she threw a sharp look over her shoulder, suddenly +assailed by an uncanny feeling that Nick was standing grimacing at +her elbow. She saw his features so clearly for the moment with his +own peculiarly hideous grimace upon them that she scarcely persuaded +herself that her fancy had tricked her. But there was nothing but the +twilight of the garden all around her, and Blake's huge bulk by her +side, and she promptly dismissed the illusion, not without a sense of +shame. + +With a gesture of impatience she unfolded Lady Bassett's letter. It +commenced "Dearest Muriel," and proceeded at once in terms of flowing +elegance to felicitate her upon her engagement to Blake Grange. + +"In according our consent," wrote Lady Bassett, "Sir Reginald and I +have not the smallest scruple or hesitation. Only, dearest, for Blake +Grange's sake as well as for your own, make quite sure _this time_ +that your mind is fully made up, and your choice final." + +When Muriel read this passage a deep note of resentment crept into her +voice, and she lifted a flushed face. + +"It may be very wicked," she said deliberately, "but I hate Lady +Bassett." + +Grange looked astonished, even mildly shocked. But Muriel returned to +the letter before he could reply. + +It went on to express regret that the writer could not herself +return to England for the summer to assist her in the purchase of her +trousseau and to chaperon her back to India in the autumn; but her +sister, Mrs. Langdale, who lived in London, would she was sure, be +delighted to undertake the part of adviser in the first case, and in +the second she would doubtless be able to find among her many friends +who would be travelling East for the winter, one who would take charge +of her. No reference was made to Daisy till the end of the letter, +when the formal hope was expressed that Mrs. Musgrave's health had +benefited by the change. + +"She dares to disapprove of Daisy for some reason," Muriel said, +closing the letter with the rapidity of exasperation. + +Grange did not ask why. He was engrossed in brushing a speck of mud +from his sleeve, and she was not sure that he even heard her remark. + +"You--I suppose you are not going to bother about a trousseau yet +then?" he asked rather awkwardly. + +She shook her head with vehemence. "No, no, of course not. Why should +I hurry? Besides, I am in mourning." + +"Exactly as you like," said Grange gently. "My leave will be up in +September, as you know, but I am not bound to stay in the Army. I will +send in my papers if you wish it." + +Muriel looked at him in amazement. "Send in your papers! Why no, +Blake! I wouldn't have you do it for the world. I never dreamed of +such a thing." + +He smiled good-humouredly. "Well, of course, I should be sorry to +give up polo, but there are plenty of other things I could take to. +Personally, I like a quiet existence." + +Was there just a shade of scorn in Muriel's glance as it fell away +from him? It would have been impossible for any bystander to say with +certainty, but there was without doubt a touch of constraint in her +voice as she made reply. + +"Yes. You are quite the most placid person I know. But please don't +think of leaving the Army for my sake. I am a soldier's daughter +remember. And--I like soldiers." + +Her lip quivered as she turned to enter the house. Her heart at that +moment was mourning over a soldier's unknown grave. But Grange did not +know it, did not even see that she was moved. + +His eyes were raised to an upper window at which a dim figure stood +looking out into the shadows. And he was thinking of other things. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE ETERNAL FLAME + + +Daisy maintained her resolution on the following day, and though she +did not speak again of going downstairs, she insisted that Muriel +should return to the hockey-field and resume her place in Olga's team. +It was the last match of the season, and she would not hear of her +missing it. + +"You and Blake are both to go," she said. "I won't have either of you +staying at home for me." + +But Blake, when Muriel conveyed this message to him, moodily shook his +head. "I'm not going. I don't want to. You must, of course. It will do +you good. But I couldn't play if I went. I've strained my wrist." + +"Oh, have you?" Muriel said, with concern. "What a nuisance! How did +you manage it?" + +He reddened, and looked slightly ashamed. "I vaulted the gate into the +meadow this morning. Idiotic thing to do. But I shall be all right. +Never mind about me. I shall smoke in the garden. I may go for a +walk." + +Thus pressed on all sides, though decidedly against her own +inclination, Muriel went. The day was showery with brilliant +intervals. Grange saw her off at the field-gate. + +"Plenty of mud," he remarked. + +"Yes, I shall be a spectacle when I come back. Good-bye! Take care of +yourself." Muriel's hand rested for an instant on his arm, and then +she was gone--a slim, short-skirted figure walking swiftly over the +grass. + +He stood leaning on the gate watching her till a clump of trees +intervened between them, then lazily he straightened himself and began +to stroll back up the garden. He was not smoking. His face wore a +heavy, almost a sullen, look. He scarcely raised his eyes from the +ground as he walked. + +Nearing the house the sudden sound of a window being raised made +him look up, and in an instant, swift as a passing cloud-shadow, his +moodiness was gone. Daisy was leaning on her window-sill, looking down +upon him. + +Though she had not spoken to him for weeks, she gave him no greeting. +Her voice even sounded a trifle sharp. + +"What are you loafing there for?" she demanded. "Why didn't you go +with Muriel to the hockey?" + +He hesitated for a single instant. Then--for he never lied to +Daisy--quite honestly he made reply. "I didn't want to." + +Her pale face frowned down at him, though the eyes had a soft light +that was like a mother's indulgence for her wayward child. + +"How absurd you are! How can you be so lazy? I won't have it, Blake. +Do you hear?" + +He moved forward a few steps till he was immediately below her, and +there stood with uplifted face. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Do!" echoed Daisy. "Why, anything--anything rather than nothing. +There's the garden-roller over there by the tool-shed. Go and get it, +and roll the lawn." + +He went off obediently without another word, and presently the clatter +of the roller testified to his submissive fulfilment of her command. +He did not look up again. Simply, with his coat off and shirt-sleeves +turned above his elbows, he tackled his arduous task, labouring up and +down in the soft spring rain, patient and tireless as an ox. + +He had accomplished about half his job when again Daisy's voice broke +imperiously in upon him. + +"Blake! Blake! Come in! You'll get wet to the skin." + +He stopped at once, straightening his great frame with a sigh of +relief. Daisy was standing at the drawing-room window. + +He pulled on his coat and went to join her. + +She came to meet him with sharp reproach. "Why are you so foolish? +I believe you would have gone on rolling if there had been an +earthquake. You must be wet through and through." She ran her little +thin hand over him. "Yes, I knew you were. You must go and change." + +But Grange's fingers closed with quiet intention upon her wrist. He +was looking down at her with the faithful adoration of a dumb animal. + +"Not yet," he said gently. "Let me see you while I can." + +She made a quick movement as if his grasp hurt her, and in an instant +she was free. + +"Yes, but let us be sensible," she said. "Don't let us talk about hard +things. I'm very tired, you know, Blake. You must make it easy for +me." + +There was a piteous note of appeal in her voice. She sat down with +her back to the light. He could see that her hands were trembling, but +because of her appeal he would not seem to see it. + +"Don't you think a change would be good for you?" he suggested. + +"I don't know," she answered. "Jim says so. He wants me to go to +Brethaven. It's only ten miles away, and he would motor over and look +after me. But I don't think it much matters. I'm not particularly fond +of the sea. And Muriel assures me she doesn't mind." + +"Isn't it at Brethaven that Nick Ratcliffe owns a place?" asked +Grange. + +"Yes. Redlands is the name. I went there once with Will. It's a +beautiful place on the cliff--quite thrown away on Nick, though, +unless he marries, which he never will now." + +Grange looked uncomfortable. "It's not my fault," he remarked bluntly. + +"No, I know," said Daisy, with a faint echo of her old light laugh. +"Nothing ever was, or could be, your fault, dear old Blake. You're +just unlucky sometimes, aren't you? That's all." + +Blake frowned a little. "I play a straight game--generally," he said. + +"Yes, dear, but you almost always drive into a bunker," Daisy +insisted. "It's not your fault, as we said before. It's just your +misfortune." + +She never flattered Blake. It was perhaps the secret of her charm for +him. To other women he was something of a paladin; to Daisy he was no +more than a man--a man moreover of many weaknesses, each one of which +she knew, each one of which was in a fashion dear to her. + +"We will have some tea, shall we?" she said, as he sat silently +digesting her criticism. "I must try and write to Will presently. I +haven't written to him since--since--" She broke off short and began +again. "I got Muriel to write for me once. But he keeps writing by +every mail. I wish he wouldn't." + +Grange got up and walked softly to the window. "When do you think of +going back?" he asked. + +"I don't know." There was a keen note of irritation in the reply. +Daisy leaned suddenly forward, her fingers locked together. "You +might as well ask me when I think of dying," she said, with abrupt and +startling bitterness. + +Grange remained stationary, not looking at her. "Is it as indefinite +as that?" he asked presently. + +"Yes, quite." She spoke recklessly, even defiantly. "Where would be +the use of my going to a place I couldn't possibly live in for more +than four months in the year? Besides--besides--" But again, as if +checked by some potent inner influence, she broke off short. Her +white face quivered suddenly, and she turned it aside. Her hands were +convulsively clenched upon each other. + +Her cousin did not move. He seemed to be unaware of her agitation. +Simply with much patience he waited for her end of the sentence. + +It came at last in a voice half-strangled. She was making almost +frantic efforts to control herself. "Besides, I couldn't stand +it--yet. I am not strong enough. And he--he wouldn't understand, poor +boy. I think--I honestly think--I am better away from him for the +present" + +Blake made no further inquiries. From Daisy's point of view, he seemed +to be standing motionless, but in reality he was quite unconsciously, +though very deliberately, pulling the tassel of the blind-cord to +shreds. + +The clouds had passed, and the sun blazed down full upon him, throwing +his splendid outline into high relief. Every detail of his massive +frame was strongly revealed. There was about him a species of careless +magnificence, wholly apart from arrogance, unfettered, superb. + +To Daisy, familiar as she was with every line of him, the sudden +revelation of the sunlight acted like a charm. She had been hiding her +eyes for many days from all light, veiling them in the darkness of her +grief, and the splendour of the man fairly dazzled her. It rushed +upon her, swift, overmastering as a tidal wave, and before it even the +memory of her sorrow grew dim. + +Blake, turning at last, met her eyes fixed full upon him with that in +their expression which no man could ignore. She had not expected him +to turn. The movement disconcerted her. With a sharp jerk She averted +her face, seeking to cover that momentary slip, to persuade him +even then, if it were possible, into the belief that he had not seen +aright. + +But it was too late. That unguarded look of hers had betrayed her, +rending asunder in an instant the veil with which for years she had +successfully baffled him. + +In a second he was on his knees beside her, his arms about her, +holding her with a close and passionate insistence. + +"Daisy!" he whispered huskily. And again, "Daisy!" + +And Daisy turned with a sudden deep sob and hid her face upon his +breast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE EAGLE CAGED + + +In spite of Olga's ecstatic welcome, Muriel took her place on the +hockey-field that afternoon with a heavy heart. Her long attendance +upon Daisy had depressed her. But gradually, as the play proceeded, +she began to forget herself and her troubles. The spring air +exhilarated her, and when they returned to the field after a sharp +shower her spirits had risen. She became even childishly gay in the +course of a hotly-contested battle, and the sadness gradually died +out of her eyes. She had grown less shy, less restrained, than of old. +Youth and health, and a dawning, unconscious beauty had sprung to life +upon her face. She was no longer the frightened, bereft child of Simla +days. She no longer hid a monstrous fear in her heart. She had put it +all away from her wisely, resolutely, as a tale that is told. + +The wild wind had blown the hair all loose about her face by the time +the last goal was won. Hatless, flushed, and laughing, she drew back +from the fray, Olga, elated by victory, clinging to her arm. It was a +moment of keen triumph, for the fight had been hard, and she enjoyed +it to the full as she stood there with her face to the sudden, +scudding rain. The glow of exercise had braced every muscle. Every +pulse was beating with warm, vigorous life. + +She laughed aloud in sheer exultation, a low, merry laugh, and turned +with Olga to march in triumphant procession from the field. + +In that instant from a gate a few yards away that led into the road +there sounded the short, imperious note of a motor-horn, repeated many +times in a succession of sharp blasts. Every one stood to view the +intruder with startled curiosity for perhaps five seconds. Then there +came a sudden squeal of rapture from Olga, and in a moment she had +torn her arm free and was gone, darting like a swallow over the turf. + +Muriel stood looking after her, but she was as one turned to stone. +She was no longer aware of the children grouped around her. She no +longer saw the fleeting sunshine, or felt the drift of rain in her +face. Something immense and suffocating had closed about her heart. +Her racing pulses had ceased to beat. + +A figure familiar to her--a man's figure, unimposing in height, +unremarkable in build, but straight, straight as his own +sword-blade--had bounded from the car and scaled the intervening gate +with monkey-like agility. + +He met the child's wild rush with one arm extended; the other--Muriel +frowned sharply, peering with eyes half closed, then uttered a queer +choked sound that had the semblance of a laugh--in place of the other +arm there was an empty sleeve. + +Through the rush of the wind she heard his voice. + +"Hullo, kiddie, hullo! Hope I don't intrude. I've come over on purpose +to pay my respects." + +Olga's answer did not reach her. She was hanging round her hero's +neck, and her head was down upon Nick's shoulder. It seemed to Muriel +that she was crying, but if so, she received scant sympathy from the +object of her solicitude. His cracked, gay laugh rang out across the +field. + +"What? Why, yesterday, to be sure. Spent the night in town. No, I know +I didn't. Never meant to. Wanted to steal a march on you all. Why not? +I say, is that--Muriel?" + +For the first time he seemed to perceive her, and instantly with a +dexterous movement he had disengaged himself from Olga's clinging arms +and was briskly approaching her. Two of the doctor's boys sprang to +greet him, but he waved them airily aside. + +"All right, you chaps, in a minute! Where's Dr. Jim? Go and tell him +I'm here." + +And then in a couple of seconds more they were face to face. + +Muriel stared at him speechlessly. She felt cold from head to foot. +She had known that he was coming. She had been steeling herself for +weeks to meet him in an armour of conventional reserve. But all her +efforts had come to this. Swift, swift as the wind over wheat, his +coming swept across her new-born confidence. It wavered and bent its +head. + +"Does your Excellency deign to remember the least and humblest of her +servants?" queried Nick, with a deep salaam. + +The laugh in his tone brought her sharply back to the demand of +circumstance. Before the watching crowd of children, she forced her +white lips to smile in answer, and in a moment she had recovered her +self-possession. She remembered with a quick sense of relief that this +man's power over her belonged to the past alone--to the tale that was +told. + +The hand she held out to him was almost steady. "Yes, I remember you, +Nick," she said, with chilly courtesy. "I am sorry you have been ill. +Are you better?" + +He made a queer grimace at her words, and for the second that her hand +lay in his, she knew that he looked at her closely, piercingly. + +"Thanks--awfully," he said. "As you may have noticed, there is a +little less of me than there used to be. I hope you think it's an +improvement." + +She felt as if he had flung back her conventional sympathy in her +face, and she stiffened instinctively. "I am sorry to see it," she +returned icily. + +Nick laughed enigmatically. "I thought you would be. Well, Olga, my +child, what do you mean by growing up like this in my absence? You +used to be just the right size for a kid, and now you are taller than +I am." + +"I'm not, Nick," the child declared with warmth. "And I never will be, +there!" + +She slid her arm again round his neck. Her eyes were full of tears. + +Nick turned swiftly and bestowed a kiss upon the face which, though +the face of a child, was so remarkably like his own. + +"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" he said. + +"There's no need," said Olga, hugging him closer. "They all know +Captain Ratcliffe of Wara. Why haven't you got the V.C., Nick, like +Captain Grange?" + +"Didn't qualify for it," returned Nick. "You see, I only distinguished +myself by running away. Hullo! It's raining. Just run and tell the +chauffeur to drive round to the house. You can go with him. And take +your friends too. It'll carry you all. I'm going the garden way with +Muriel." + +Muriel realised the impossibility of frustrating this plan, though the +last thing in the world that she desired was to be alone with him. +But the distance to the house was not great. As the children scampered +away to the waiting motor-car she moved briskly to leave the field. + +Nick walked beside her with his free, elastic swagger. In a few +moments he reached out and took her hockey-stick from her. + +"Jove!" he said. "It did me good to see you shoot that goal." + +"I had no idea you were watching," she returned stiffly. + +He grinned. "No, I saw that. Fun, wasn't it? Like to know what I said +to myself?" + +She made no answer, and his grin became a laugh. "I'm sure you would, +so I'll tell you. I said, 'Prayer Number One is granted,' and I ticked +it off the list, and duly acknowledged the same." + +Muriel was plainly mystified. He was in the mood that most baffled +her. "I don't know what you mean," she said at last. + +Nick swung the hockey-stick idly. His yellow face, for all its +wrinkles, looked peculiarly complacent. + +"Let me explain," he said coolly; "I wanted to see you young again, +and--my want has been satisfied, that's all." + +Muriel looked sharply away from him, the vivid colour rushing all over +her face. She remembered--and the memory seemed to stab her--a day +long, long ago when she had lain in this man's arms in the extremity +of helpless suffering, and had heard him praying above her head, +brokenly, passionately, for something far different--something from +which she had come to shrink with a nameless, overmastering dread. + +She quickened her pace in the silence that followed. The rain was +coming down sharply. Reaching the door that led into the doctor's +walled garden, she stretched out her hand with impetuous haste to push +it open. + +Instantly, with disconcerting suddenness, Nick dropped the +hockey-stick and swooped upon it like a bird of prey. + +"Who gave you that?" he demanded. + +He had spied a hoop of diamonds upon her third finger. She could +not see his eyes under the flickering lids, but he held her wrist +forcibly, and it seemed to her that there was a note of savagery in +his voice. + +Her heart beat fast for a few seconds, so fast that she could not find +her voice. Then, almost under her breath, "Blake gave it to me," she +said. "Blake Grange." + +"Yes?" said Nick. "Yes?" + +Suddenly he looked straight at her, and his eyes were alight, fierce, +glowing. But she felt a curious sense of scared relief, as if he were +behind bars,--an eagle caged, of which she need have no fear. + +"We are engaged to be married," she said quietly. + +There fell a momentary silence, and a voice cried out in her soul that +she had stabbed him through the bars. + +Then in a second Nick dropped her hands and stooped to pick up the +hockey-stick. His face as he stood up again flashed back to its old, +baffling gaiety. + +"What ho!" he said lightly. "Then I'm in time to dance at the wedding. +Pray accept my heartiest congratulations!" + +Muriel murmured her thanks with her face averted. She was no longer +afraid merely, but strangely, inexplicably ashamed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE LION'S SKIN + + +The news of Nick's return spread like wildfire through the doctor's +house, and the whole establishment assembled to greet him. Jim himself +came striding out into the rain to shake his hand and escort him in. + +His "Hullo, you scapegrace!" had in it little of sentiment, but there +was nothing wanting in his welcome in the opinion of the recipient +thereof. + +Nick's rejoinder of "Hullo, you old buffer!" was equally free from any +gloss of eloquence, but he hooked his hand in the doctor's arm as he +made it, and kept it there. + +Jim gave him one straight, keen look that took in every detail, but he +made no verbal comment of any sort. His heavy brows drew together for +an instant, that was all. + +It was an exceedingly clamorous home-coming. The children, having +arrived in the motor, swarmed all about the returned hero, who was +more than equal to the occasion, and obviously enjoyed his boisterous +reception to the uttermost. There never had been any shyness about +Nick. + +Muriel, standing watching in the background with a queer, +unaccountable pain at her heart, assured herself that the news of +her engagement had meant nothing to him whatever. He had managed +to deceive her as usual. She realised it with burning cheeks, and +ardently wished that she had borne herself more proudly. Well, she was +not wanted here. Even Olga, her faithful and loving admirer, had eyes +only for Nick just then. As for Dr. Jim, he had not even noticed her. + +Quietly she stole away from the merry, chattering group. The hall-door +stood open, and she saw that it was raining heavily; but she did not +hesitate. With a haste that was urged from within by something that +was passionate, she ran out hatless into the storm. + +The cracked, careless laugh she knew so well pursued her as she went, +and once she fancied that some one called her by name. But she did +not slacken speed to listen. She only dashed on a little faster than +before. + +Drenched and breathless, she reached home at length, to be met upon +the threshold by Blake. In her exhaustion she almost fell into his +arms. + +"Hullo!" he said, steadying her. "You shouldn't run like that. I never +dreamed you would come back in this, or I would have come across with +an umbrella to fetch you." + +She sank into a chair in the hall, speechless and gasping, her hair +hanging about her neck in wildest disorder. + +Blake stood beside her. He was wearing his worried, moody look. + +"You shouldn't," he said again. "It's horribly bad for you." + +"Ah, I'm better," she gasped back. "I had to run--all the way--because +of the rain." + +"But why didn't you wait?" said Blake. "What were they thinking of to +let you come in this down-pour?" + +"They couldn't help it." Muriel raised herself with a great sobbing +sigh. "It was nobody's fault but my own. I wanted to get away. Oh, +Blake, do you know--Nick is here?" + +Blake started. "What? Already? Do you mean he is actually in the +place?" + +She nodded. "He came up in a motor while we were playing. I suppose he +is staying at Redlands, but I don't know. And--and--Blake, he has +lost his left arm. It makes him look so queer." She gave a sudden, +uncontrollable shudder. The old dumb horror looked out of her eyes. +"I thought I shouldn't mind," she said, under her breath. "Perhaps--if +you had been there--it would have been different. As it was--as it +was--" She broke off, rising impetuously to her feet, and laying +trembling hands upon his arms. "Oh, Blake," she whispered, like a +scared child. "I feel so helpless. But you promised--you promised--you +would never let me go." + +Yes, he had promised her that. He had sworn it, and, sick at heart, +he remembered that in her eyes at least he was a man of honour. It +had been in his mind to tell her the simple truth, just so far as he +himself was concerned, and thereafter to place himself at her +disposal to act exactly as she should desire. But suddenly this was an +impossibility to him. He realised it with desperate self-loathing. +She trusted him. She looked to him for protection. She leaned upon +his strength. She needed him. He could not--it almost seemed as if in +common chivalry he could not--reveal to her the contemptible weakness +which lay like a withering blight upon his whole nature. To own +himself the slave of a married woman, and that woman her closest +friend, would be to throw her utterly upon her own resources at a +time when she most needed the support and guidance of a helping +hand. Moreover, the episode was over; so at least both he and Daisy +resolutely persuaded themselves. There had been a lapse--a vain and +futile lapse--into the long-cherished idyll of their romance. It +must never recur. It never should recur. It must be covered over +and forgotten as speedily as might be. They had come to their senses +again. They were ready, not only to thrust away the evil that had +dominated them, but to ignore it utterly as though it had never been. + +So, rapidly, the man reasoned with himself with the girl's hands +clasping his arm in earnest entreaty, and her eyes of innocence raised +to his. + +His answer when it came was slow and soft and womanly, but, in her +ears at least, there was nothing wanting in it. She never dreamed that +he was reviling himself for a blackguard even as he uttered it. + +"My dear little girl, there is nothing whatever for you to be afraid +of. You're a bit overstrung, aren't you? The man isn't living who +could take you from me." + +He patted her shoulder very kindly, soothing her with a patient, +almost fatherly tenderness, and gradually her panic of fear passed. +She leaned against him with a comforting sense of security. + +"I can't think how it is I'm so foolish," she told him. "You are good +to me, Blake. I feel so safe when I am with you." + +His heart smote him, yet he bent and kissed her. "You're not quite +strong yet, dear," he said. "It takes a long time to get over all that +you had to bear last year." + +"Yes," she agreed with a sigh. "And do you know I thought I was +so much stronger than I am? I actually thought that I shouldn't +mind--much--when he came. And yet I did mind--horribly. I--I--told him +about our engagement, Blake." + +"Yes, dear," said Blake. + +"Yes, I told him. And he laughed and offered his congratulations. +I don't think he cared," said Muriel, again with that curious, +inexplicable sensation of pain at her heart. + +"Why should he?" said Blake. + +She looked at him with momentary irresolution. "You know, Blake, I +never told you. But I was--I was--engaged to him for about a fortnight +that dreadful time at Simla." + +To her relief she marked no change in Blake's courteously attentive +face. + +"You need not have told me that, dear," he said quietly. + +"No, I know," she answered, pressing his arm. "It wouldn't make any +difference to you. You are too great. And it was always a little bit +against my will. But the breaking with him was terrible--terrible. He +was so angry. I almost thought he would have killed me." + +"My dear," Blake said, "you shouldn't dwell on these things. They are +better forgotten." + +"I know, I know," she answered. "But they are just the very hardest of +all things to forget. You must help me, Blake. Will you?" + +"I will help you," he answered steadily. + +And the resolution with which he spoke was an unspeakable comfort to +her. Once more there darted across her mind the wonder at her father's +choice for her. How was it--how was it--that he had passed over this +man and chosen Nick? + +Blake's own explanation of the mystery seemed to her suddenly weak and +inadequate. She simply could not bring herself to believe that in a +supreme moment he could be found wanting. It was unthinkable that the +giant frame and mighty sinews could belong to a personality that was +lacking in a corresponding greatness. + +So she clung to her illusion, finding comfort therein, wholly blind to +those failings in her protector which to the woman who had loved him +from her earliest girlhood were as obvious and well-nigh as precious +as his virtues. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +OLD FRIENDS MEET + + +"I must be getting back," said Nick. + +He was sprawling at ease on the sofa in Jim's study, blinking +comfortably at the ceiling, as he made this remark. + +Jim himself had just entered the room. He drew up a chair to Nick's +side. + +"You will be doing nothing of the sort to-night," he returned, with +a certain grimness. "The motor has gone back to Redlands for your +things. I saw to that an hour ago." + +"The deuce you did!" said Nick. He turned slightly to send a shifting +glance over his brother. "That was very officious of you, Jimmy," he +remarked. + +"Very likely," conceded the doctor. "I have to be officious +occasionally. And if you think that I mean to let you out of my sight +in your present state of health, you make a big mistake. No, lie +still, I tell you! You're like a monkey on wires. Lie still! Do you +hear me, Nick?" + +Nick's feet were already on the ground, but he did not rise. He sat +motionless, as if weighing some matter in his mind. + +"I can't stay with you, Jimmy," he said at last. "I'll spend to-night +of course with all the pleasure in the world. But I'm going back to +Redlands to-morrow. I have a fancy for sleeping in my own crib just +now. Come over and see me as often as you feel inclined, the oftener +the better. And if you care to bring your science to bear upon all +that is left of this infernally troublesome member of mine, I shall be +charmed to let you. You may vivisect me to your heart's content. But +don't ask me to be an in-patient, for it can't be done. There are +reasons." + +Jim frowned at him. "Do you know what will happen if you don't take +care of yourself?" he said brusquely. "You'll die." + +Nick burst into a laugh, and lay back on the cushions. "I was driven +out of India by that threat," he said. "It's getting a bit stale. +You needn't be afraid. I'm not going to die at present. I'll take +reasonable precautions to prevent it. But I won't stay here, that's +flat. I tell you, man, I can't." + +He glanced again at Jim, and, finding the latter closely watching him, +abruptly shut his eyes. + +"I'm going to open Redlands," he said, "and I will have Olga to come +and keep house for me. It'll be good practice for her. I'll take her +back with me to-morrow, if you have no objection." + +"Fine mischief you'll get up to, the pair of you," grumbled Jim. + +"Very likely," said Nick cheerily. "But we shan't come to any harm, +either of us. To begin with, I shall make her wait on me, hand and +foot. She'll like that, and so shall I." + +"Yes, you'll spoil her thoroughly." said Jim. "And I shall have the +pleasure of breaking her in afterwards." + +Nick laughed again. "What an old tyrant you are! But you needn't be +afraid of that. I'll make her do as she's told. I'm particularly good +at that. Ask Muriel Roscoe." + +Jim's frown deepened. "You know of that girl's engagement to Grange, I +suppose?" + +Nick did not trouble to open his eyes. "Oh, rather! She took care that +I should. I gave her my blessing." + +"Well, I don't like it," said Jim plainly. + +"What's the matter with him?" questioned Nick. + +"Nothing that I know of. But she isn't in love with him." + +Nick's eyelids parted a little, showing a glint between. "You funny +old ass!" he murmured affectionately. + +Jim leaned forward and looked at him hard. + +"Quite so," said Nick in answer, closing his eyes again. "But you +don't by any chance imagine she's in love with me, do you? You know +how a woman looks at a worm she has chopped in half by mistake? That's +how Muriel Roscoe looked at me to-day when she expressed her regret +for my mishap." + +"She wouldn't do that for nothing," observed Jim, with a hint of +sternness. + +"She wouldn't," Nick conceded placidly. + +"Then why the devil did you ever give her reason?" Jim spoke with +unusual warmth. Muriel was a favourite of his. + +But he obtained scant satisfaction notwithstanding. + +"Ask the devil," said Nick flippantly. "I never was good at +definitions." + +It was a tacit refusal to discuss the matter, and as such Jim accepted +it. + +He turned from the subject with a grunt of discontent. "Well, if I am +to undertake your case, you had better let me look at you. But we'll +have a clean understanding first, mind, that you obey my orders. I +won't be responsible otherwise." + +Nick opened his eyes with a chuckle. "I'll do anything under the sun +to please you, Jimmy," he said generously. "When did you ever find me +hard to manage?" + +"You've given me plenty of trouble at one time and another," Jim said +bluntly. + +"And shall again before I die," laughed Nick, as he submitted to his +brother's professional handling. "There's plenty of kick left in me. +By the way, tell me what you think about Daisy. I must call on her +to-morrow before I leave." + +This intention, however, was not fulfilled, for Daisy herself came +early to the doctor's house to visit him. Far from well though she +was, she made the effort as a matter of course. Nick was too near a +friend to neglect. Blake did not accompany her. He was riding with +Muriel. + +She found Nick stretched out in luxurious idleness on a couch in +the sunshine. He made a movement to spring to meet her, but checked +himself with a laugh. + +"This is awfully good of you, Daisy. I was coming to see you later, +but I'm nailed to this confounded sofa for the next two hours, having +solemnly sworn to Jim that nothing short of battle, murder or sudden +death should induce me to move. I'm afraid I can't reasonably describe +your coming as any of these, so I must remain a fixture. It's Jimmy's +rest cure." + +He reached out his hand to Daisy, who took it in both her own. "My +poor dear Nick!" she said, and stooping impulsively kissed him on the +forehead. + +"Bless you!" said Nick. "I'm ten times better for that. Sit down here, +won't you? Pull up close. I've got a lot to say." + +Of sympathy for her recent bereavement, however, he said no word +whatever. He only held her hand. + +"There's poor old Will," he said: "I spent the night with him on my +way down. He's beastly homesick--sent all sorts of messages to you. +You'll be going out in the winter?" + +"It depends," said Daisy. + +"He's breaking his heart for you, like a silly ass," said Nick. "How +long has Muriel been engaged to Grange?" + +Daisy started at the sudden question. + +"It's all right," Nick assured her. "I'm not a bit savage. It'll be a +little experience for her. When did it begin?" + +Daisy hesitated. "Some weeks ago now." + +Nick nodded. "Exactly. As soon as she heard I was coming. Funny of +her. And what of Grange? Is he smitten?" + +Daisy flushed painfully, and tried to laugh. "Don't be so +cold-blooded, Nick. Of course he--he's fond of her." + +"Oh, he--he's fond of her, is he?" said Nick. He looked at her +suddenly, and laughed with clenched teeth. "I'm infernally rude, I +know. But why put it in that way? Should you say I was 'fond' of her?" + +Daisy met his darting, elusive glance with a distinct effort. "I +shouldn't say you were fond of any one, Nick. The term doesn't +apply where you are concerned. There never were two men more totally +different than you and Blake. But he isn't despicable for all that. +He's a child compared to you, but he's a good child. He would never do +wrong unless some one tempted him." + +"That's so with a good many of us," remarked Nick, sneering faintly. +"Let us hope that when the account comes to be totted up, allowance +will be made." + +Daisy's hand upon his banished the sneer. "Be fair, Nick," she urged. +"We are not all made with wills of iron. I know you are bitter because +you think he isn't good enough for her. But would you think any man +good enough? Don't think I wanted this. I was on your side. But I--I +was busy at the time with--other things. And I didn't see it coming." + +Nick's face softened. He said nothing. + +She bent towards him. "I would have given anything to have stopped it +when I knew. But it was too late. Will you forgive me, Nick?" + +He patted her hand lightly. "Of course, of course. Don't fret on my +account." + +"But I do," she whispered vehemently. "I do. I know--how horribly--it +hurts." + +Nick's fingers closed suddenly upon hers. His eyes went beyond her. + +"Mrs. Musgrave," he said, "I am gifted with a superhuman intelligence, +remember. I know some cards by their backs." + +Daisy withdrew her hand swiftly. His tone had been one of warning. +She threw him a look of sharp uneasiness. She did not ask him what he +meant. + +"Tell me some more about Will," she said. "I was thinking of writing +to him to-day." + +And Nick forthwith plunged into a graphic account of the man who was +slaving night and day in the burning Plains of the East for the woman +of his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +AN OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP + + +It was with unspeakable relief that Muriel learned of Nick's +departure. That he had elected to take Olga with him surprised her +considerably and caused her some regret. Grange had discovered some +urgent business that demanded his presence in town, and she missed the +child in consequence more than she would otherwise have done. + +Daisy was growing stronger, and was beginning to contemplate a change, +moved at last by Jim Ratcliffe's persistent urging. There was a +cottage at Brethaven which, he declared, would suit her exactly. +Muriel raised no objection to the plan. She knew it would be for +Daisy's benefit, but her heart sank whenever she thought of it. She +was glad when early in June Blake came back to them for a few days +before starting on a round of visits. + +He approved of the Brethaven plan warmly, and he and Muriel rode over +one morning to the little seaside village to make arrangements. Muriel +said no more to him upon the subject of Nick. On this one point +she had come to know that it was vain to look for sympathy. He had +promised to help her indeed, but he simply did not understand +her nervous shrinking from the man. Moreover, Nick had made it so +abundantly evident that he had no intention of thrusting himself upon +her that there could be no ground for fear on that score. Besides, was +not her engagement her safeguard? + +As for Blake, her silence upon the matter made him hope that she was +getting over her almost childish panic. With all the goodwill in the +world, he could not see that his presence as watch-dog was required. + +Yet, as they turned from the cottage on the shore with their errand +accomplished, he did say after some hesitation, "Of course, if for +any reason you should want me when I am away, you must let me know. I +would come at once." + +She thanked him with a heightened colour, and he had a feeling that +his allusion had been unwelcome. They rode up from the beach in +silence. + +Turning a sharp corner towards the village where they proposed to +lunch, they came suddenly upon a motor stationary by the roadside. +A whoop of cheery recognition greeted them before either of them +realised that it was occupied, and they discovered Nick seated on the +step, working with his one hand at the foot-brake. Olga was with him, +endeavouring to assist. + +Nick's face grinned welcome impartially to the newcomers. "Hullo! This +is luck. Delighted to see you. Grange, my boy, here's a little job +exactly suited to your Herculean strength. Climb down like a good +fellow, and lend a hand." + +Grange glanced at Muriel, and with a slight shrug handed her his +bridle. "I'm not much good at this sort of thing," he remarked, as he +dismounted. + +"Never thought you were for a moment," responded Nick. "But I suppose +you can do as you're told at a pinch. This filthy thing has got +jammed. It's too tough a job for a single-handed pigmy like me." He +glanced quizzically up at Muriel with the last remark, but she quickly +averted her eyes, bending to speak to Olga at the same instant. + +Olga was living in the seventh heaven just then, and her radiant face +proclaimed it. "I'm learning to drive," she told Muriel. "It's the +greatest fun. You would just love it. I know you would." She stood +fondling the horses and chattering while the two men wrestled with the +motor's internal arrangements, and Muriel longed desperately to give +her animal the rein and flee away from the mocking sprite that gibed +at her from Nick's eyes. Whence came it, this feeling of insecurity, +this perpetual sense of fighting against the inevitable? She had +fancied that Blake's presence would be her safeguard, but now she +bitterly realised that it made no difference to her. He stood as it +were outside the ropes, and was powerless to intervene. + +Suddenly she saw them stand up. The business was done. They stood for +a second side by side--Blake gigantic, well-proportioned, splendidly +strong; Nick, meagre, maimed, almost shrunken, it seemed. But in that +second she knew with unerring conviction that the greater fighter of +the two was the man against whom she had pitted her quivering woman's +strength. She knew at a single glance that for all his bodily weakness +Nick possessed the power to dominate even so mighty a giant as Blake. +What she had said to herself many a time before, she said again. He +was abnormal, superhuman even; more--where he chose to exert himself, +he was irresistible. + +The realisation went through her, sharp and piercing, horribly +distinct. She had sought shelter like a frightened rabbit in the +densest cover she could find, but, crouching low, she heard the rush +of the remorseless wings above her. She knew that at any moment he +could rend her refuge to pieces and hold her at his mercy. + +Abruptly he left Blake and came to her side. "I want you and Grange to +come to Redlands for luncheon," he said. "Olga is hostess there. Don't +refuse." + +"Oh, do come!" urged Olga, dancing eagerly upon one leg. "You've never +been to Redlands, have you? It's such a lovely place. Say you'll come, +Muriel." + +Muriel scarcely heard her. She was looking down into Nick's face, +seeking, seeking for the hundredth time, to read that baffling mask. + +"Don't refuse," he said again. "You'll get nothing but underdone chops +at the inn here, and I can't imagine that to be a weakness of yours." + +She gave up her fruitless search. "I will come," she said. + +"It's exactly as you like, you know, Muriel," Grange put in awkwardly. + +She understood the precise meaning of Nick's laugh. She even for a +moment wanted to laugh herself. "Thank you. I should like to," she +said. + +Nick nodded and turned aside. "Olga, stop capering," he ordered, "and +drive me home." + +Olga obeyed him promptly, with the gaiety of a squirrel. As Nick +seated himself by her side, Muriel saw her turn impulsively and rub +her cheek against his shoulder. It gave her a queer little tingling +shock to see the child's perfect confidence in him. But then--but +then--Olga had never looked on horror, had never seen the devil leap +out in naked fury upon her hero's face. + +They waited to let the car go first, Olga proudly grasping the wheel; +then, trotting briskly, followed in its wake. + +Muriel had an uneasy feeling that Blake wanted to apologise, and she +determined that he should not have the opportunity. Each time that +he gave any sign of wishing to draw nearer to her, she touched her +horse's flank. Something in the nature of a revelation had come to +her during that brief halt by the roadside. For the first time she +had caught a glimpse, plain and unvarnished, of the actual man that +inhabited the giant's frame, and it had given her an odd, disturbing +suspicion that the strength upon which she leaned was in simple fact +scarcely equal to her own. + +The way to Redlands lay through leafy woodlands through which here +and there the summer sea gleamed blue. Turning in at the open gates, +Muriel uttered an exclamation of delight. She seemed to have suddenly +entered fairyland. The house, long, low, rambling, roofed with thatch, +stood at the end of a winding drive that was bordered on both sides +by a blaze of rhododendron flowers. Down below her on the left was a +miniature glen from which arose the tinkle of running water. On her +right the trees grew thickly, completely shutting out the road. + +"Oh, Blake!" she exclaimed. "What a perfect paradise!" + +"Like it?" said Nick; and with a start she saw him coolly step out +from a shadowy path behind them and close the great iron gate. + +Impulsively she pulled up and slipped to the ground. "Take my horse, +Blake," she said. "I must run down to that stream." + +He obeyed her, not very willingly, and Nick with a chuckle turned and +plunged after her down the narrow path. "Go straight ahead!" he called +back. "Olga is waiting for you at the house." + +He came up with Muriel on the edge of the fairy stream. Her face was +flushed and her eyes nervous, but she met him bravely. She had known +in her heart that he would follow. As he stopped beside her, she +turned with a little desperate laugh and held out her hand. + +"Is it peace?" she said rather breathlessly. + +She felt his fingers, tense as wire, close about her own. "Seems like +it," he said. "What are you afraid of? Me?" + +She could not meet his look. But the necessity for some species of +understanding pressed upon her. She wanted unspeakably to conciliate +him. + +"I want to be friends with you, Nick," she said, "if you will let me." + +"What for?" said Nick sharply. + +She was silent. She could not tell him that her sure defence had +crumbled at a touch. Somehow she was convinced that he knew it +already. + +"You never wanted such a thing before," he said. "You certainly +weren't hankering after it the last time we met." + +Her cheeks burned at the memory. Again she felt ashamed. With a great +effort she forced herself to speak with a certain frankness. + +"I am afraid," she said--"I have thought since--that I was rather +heartless that day. The fact was, I was taken by surprise. But I am +sorry now, Nick. I am very sorry." + +Her tone was unconsciously piteous. Surely he must see that if they +were to meet often, as inevitably they must, some sort of agreement +between them was imperative. She must feel stable ground beneath her +feet. Their intercourse could not be one perpetual passage of arms. +Flesh and blood could never endure it. + +But Nick did not apparently view the matter in the same light. "Pray +don't be sorry," he airily begged her. "I quite understood. I never +take offence where none is intended, and not always where it is. So +dismiss the matter from your mind with all speed. There is not the +smallest occasion for regret." + +He meant to elude her, she saw, and she turned from him without +another word. There was to be no understanding then, no friendly +feeling, no peace of mind. She had trusted to his generosity, and it +was quite clear that he had no intention of being generous. + +As they walked by a mossy pathway towards the house, they talked upon +indifferent things. But the girl's heart was very bitter within +her. She would have given almost anything to have flung back his +hospitality in his grinning, triumphant face, and have departed with +her outraged pride to the farthest corner of the earth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE EAGLE HOVERS + + +Luncheon in the low, old-fashioned dining-room at Redlands with its +windows facing the open sea, with Olga beaming at the head of the +table, would have been a peaceful and pleasant meal, had Muriel's +state of mind allowed her to enjoy it. But Nick's treatment of her +overture had completely banished all enjoyment for her. She forced +herself to eat and to appear unconcerned, but she was quivering +inwardly with a burning sense of resentment. She was firmly determined +that she would never be alone with him again. He had managed by those +few scoffing words of his to arouse in her all the bitterness of which +she was capable. If she had feared him before, she hated him now with +the whole force of her nature. + +He seemed to be blissfully unconscious of her hostility and played the +part of host with complete ease of manner. Long before the meal was +over, Grange had put aside his sullenness, and they were conversing +together as comrades. + +Nick had plenty to say. He spoke quite openly of his illness, and +declared himself to have completely recovered from it. "Even Jim has +ceased his gruesome threats," he said cheerily. "There will be no more +lopping of branches this season. Just as well, for I chance to have +developed an affection for what is left." + +"You're going back to the Regiment, I suppose?" Blake questioned. + +"No, he isn't," thrust in Olga, and was instantly frowned upon by +Nick. + +"Speak when you're spoken to, little girl! That's a question you are +not qualified to answer. I'm on half-pay at present, and I haven't +made up my mind." + +"I should quit in your place," Grange remarked, with his eyes on the +dazzling sea. + +"No doubt you would," Nick responded dryly. "And what should you +advise, Muriel?" + +The question was unexpected, but she had herself in hand, and answered +it instantly. "I certainly shouldn't advise you to quit." + +He raised his eyebrows. "Might one ask why?" + +She was quite ready for him, inspired by an overmastering longing +to hurt him if that were possible. "Because if you gave up your +profession, you would be nothing but a vacuum. If the chance to +destroy life were put out of your reach, you would simply cease to +exist." + +She spoke rapidly, her voice pitched very low. She was trembling all +over, and her hands were clenched under the table to hide it. + +The laugh with which Nick received her words jarred intolerably upon +her. She heard nothing in it but deliberate cruelty. + +"Great Lucifer!" he said. "You have got me under the microscope with +a vengeance. But you can't see through me, you know. I have a reverse +side. Hadn't you better turn me over and look at that? There may be +sorcery and witchcraft there as well." + +There might be. She could well have imagined it. But these were lesser +things in which she had no concern. She turned his thrust aside with +disdain. + +"I am not sufficiently interested," she said. "The little I know is +enough." + +"Well hit!" chuckled Nick. "I retire from the fray, discomfited. Olga +_mia_, I wish you would find the cigars. You know where they are." + +Olga sprang to do his bidding. Having handed the box to Grange she +came to Nick and stood beside him while she cut and lighted a cigar +for him. + +He put his arm round her for a moment, and she stooped a flushed face +and kissed the top of his head. + +"Run along," said Nick. "Take Muriel into the garden. She hasn't seen +it all." + +Muriel rose. "We mustn't be late in starting back," she remarked to +Blake. + +But Olga lingered to whisper vehemently in Nick's ear. + +He laughed and shook his head. "Go, child, go! You don't know anything +about it. And Muriel is waiting. You should never keep a guest +waiting." + +Olga went reluctantly. They passed out into the clear June sunshine +together and down towards the shady shrubberies beyond the lawns. + +"Can Nick play tennis?" Muriel asked, as they crossed a marked-out +court. + +"Yes, he can do anything," the child said proudly. "He was on +horseback this morning, and he managed splendidly. We generally +play tennis in the evening. He almost always wins. His services are +terrific. I can't think how he does it. He calls it juggling. I try to +manage with only one hand sometimes--just to keep him company--but I +always make a mess of things. There's no one in the world as clever as +Nick." + +Muriel felt inclined to agree with her, though in her opinion this +distinguishing quality was not an altogether admirable one. She +infinitely preferred people with fewer brains. She would not, however, +say this to Olga, and they paced on together under the trees in +silence. Suddenly a warm hand slid within her arm, and Olga's grey +eyes, very loving and wistful, looked up into hers. + +"Muriel darling," she whispered softly, "don't you--don't you--like +Nick after all?" + +The colour rushed over Muriel's face in a vivid flood. + +"Like him! Like him!" she stammered. "Why do you ask?" + +"Because, dear--don't be vexed, I love you frightfully--you did hurt +him so at lunch," explained Olga, pressing very close to her. + +"Hurt him! Hurt him!" Again Muriel repeated her words, then, +recovering sharply, broke into a sudden laugh. "My dear child, I +couldn't possibly do such a thing if I tried." + +"But you did, you did!" persisted Olga, a faint note of indignation in +her voice. "You don't know Nick. He feels--tremendously. Of course +you might not see it, for it doesn't often show. But I know--I always +know--when he is hurt, by the way he laughs. And he was hurt to-day." + +She stuck firmly to her point, notwithstanding Muriel's equally +persistent attitude of incredulity, till even Muriel was conscious at +last in her inner soul of a faint wonder, a dim and wholly negligible +sense of regret. Not that she would under any circumstances have +recalled that thrust of hers. She felt it had been dealt in fair +fight; but even in fair fight there come sometimes moments of regret, +when one feels that the enemy's hand has been intentionally slack. She +knew well that, had he chosen, Nick might have thrust back, instantly +and disconcertingly, as his manner was. But he had refrained, merely +covering up his wound--if wound there had been--with the laugh that +had so wrung Olga's loving heart. His ways were strange. She would +never understand him. But she would like to have known how deep that +thrust had gone. + +Could she have overheard the conversation between Nick and his +remaining guest that followed her departure, she might have received +enlightenment on this point, but Nick took very good care to ensure +that that conversation should be overheard by none. + +As soon as Grange had finished his coffee, he proposed a move to the +library, and led the way thither, leaving his own drink untouched +behind him. + +The library was a large and comfortable apartment completely shut +away from the rest of the house, and singularly ill-adapted for +eavesdroppers. The windows looked upon a wide stretch of lawn upon +which even a bird could scarcely have lingered unnoticed. The light +that filtered in through green sun-blinds was cool and restful. An +untidy writing-table and a sofa strewn with cushions in disorderly +attitudes testified to the fact that Nick had appropriated this room +for his own particular den. There was also a sun-bonnet tossed upon a +chair which seemed to indicate that Olga at least did not regard his +privacy as inviolable. The ancient brown volumes stacked upon shelves +that ranged almost from floor to ceiling were comfortably undisturbed. +It was plainly a sanctum in which ease and not learning ruled supreme. + +Nick established his visitor in an easy-chair and hunted for an +ash-tray. Grange watched him uncomfortably. + +"I'm awfully sorry about your arm, Ratcliffe," he said at length. "A +filthy bit of bad luck that." + +"Damnable," said Nick. + +"I've been meaning to look you up for a long time," Grange proceeded, +"but somehow it hasn't come off." + +Nick laughed rather dryly. He was perfectly well aware that Grange had +been steadily avoiding him ever since his return. "Very good of you," +he said, subsiding upon the sofa and pulling the cushions about him. +"I've been saving up my congratulations for you all these weeks. I +might have written, of course, but I had a notion that the spoken word +would be more forcible." + +Grange stirred uneasily, neither understanding nor greatly relishing +Nick's tone. He wished vehemently that he would leave the subject +alone. + +Nick, however, had no such intention. A faint fiendish smile was +twitching the corners of his lips. He did not even glance in Blake's +direction. There was no need. + +"Well, I wish you joy," he said lightly. + +"Thank you," returned Grange, without elation and with very little +gratitude. In some occult fashion, Nick was making it horribly awkward +for him. He longed to change the subject, but could find nothing to +say--possibly because Nick quite obviously had not yet done with it. + +"Going to get married before you sail?" he asked abruptly. + +"I don't think so." Very reluctantly Grange made reply. + +"Why not?" said Nick. + +"Muriel doesn't want to be married till she is out of mourning," +Grange explained. + +"Why doesn't she go out of mourning then?" + +Grange didn't know, hadn't even thought of it. + +"Perhaps she will elect to wear mourning all her life," suggested +Nick. "Have you thought of that?" + +There was a distinct gibe in this, and Grange at once retreated to a +less exposed position. "I am quite willing to wait for her," he said. +"And she knows it." + +"You're deuced easily pleased then," rejoined Nick. "And let me tell +you--for I'm sure you don't know--there's not a single woman under the +sun who appreciates that sort of patience." + +Grange ignored the information with a decidedly sullen air. He did +not regard Nick as particularly well qualified to give him advice upon +such a subject. + +After a moment Nick saw his attitude, and laughed aloud. "Yes, say it, +man! It's quite true in a sense, and I shouldn't contradict you if it +weren't. But has it never occurred to you that I was under a terrific +disadvantage from the very beginning? Do you remember that I undertook +the job that you shirked? Or do you possibly present the matter to +yourself--and others--in some more attractive form?" + +He turned upon his elbow with the question and regarded Grange with an +odd expectancy. But Grange smoked in silence, not raising his eyes. + +Suddenly Nick spoke in a different tone, a tone that was tense without +vibrating. "It doesn't matter how you put it. The truth remains. +You didn't love her then. If you had loved her, you must have been +ready--as I was ready--to make the final sacrifice. But you were not +ready. You hung back. You let me take the place which only a man who +cared enough to protect her to the uttermost could have taken. You +let me do this thing, and I did it. I brought her through untouched. I +kept her--night and day I kept her--from harm of any sort. And she has +been my first care ever since. You won't believe this, I daresay, but +it's true. And--mark this well--I will only let her go to the man who +will make her happy. Once I meant to be that man. You don't suppose, +do you, that I brought her safe through hell just for the pleasure of +seeing her marry another fellow? But it's all the same now what I did +it for. I've been knocked out of the running." His eyelids suddenly +quivered as if at a blow. "It doesn't matter to you how. It wasn't +because she fancied any one else. She hadn't begun to think of you +in those days. I let her go, never mind why. I let her go, but she is +still in my keeping, and will be till she is the actual property of +another man--yes, and after that too. I saved her, remember. I won the +right of guardianship over her. So be careful what you do. Marry her +if you love her. But if you don't, leave her alone. She shall be no +man's second best. That I swear." + +He ceased abruptly. His yellow face was full of passion. His hand was +clenched upon the sofa-cushion. The whole body of the man seemed to +thrill and quiver with electric force. + +And then in a moment it all passed. As at the touching of a spring his +muscles relaxed. The naked passion was veiled again--the old mask of +banter replaced. + +He stretched out his hand to the man who had sat in silence and +listened to that one fierce outburst of a force which till then had +contained itself. + +"I speak as a fool," he said lightly. "Nothing new for me, you'll say. +But just for my satisfaction--because she hates me so--put your hand +in mine and swear you will seek her happiness before everything else +in the world. I shall never trouble you again after this fashion. I +have spoken." + +Blake sat for several seconds without speaking. Then, as if impelled +thereto, he leaned slowly forward and laid his hand in Nick's. He +seemed to have something to say, but it did not come. + +Nick waited. + +"I swear," Blake said at length. + +His voice was low, and he did not attempt to look Nick in the face, +but he obviously meant what he said. + +And Nick seemed to be satisfied. In less than five seconds, he had +tossed the matter carelessly aside as one having no further concern in +it. But the memory of that interview was as a searing flame to Blake's +soul for long after. + +For he knew that the man from whom Muriel had sought his protection +was more worthy of her than he, and his heart cried bitter shame upon +him for that knowledge. + +It was with considerable difficulty that he responded to Nick's airy +nothings during the half-hour that followed, and the unusual alacrity +with which he seized upon his host's suggestion that he might care +to see the garden, testified to his relief at being released from the +obligation of doing so. + +They went out together on to the wide lawn and sauntered down to a +summer-house on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the whole mighty +expanse of sea. It lay dreaming in the sunlight, with hardly a ripple +upon the long white beach below. And here they came upon Muriel and +Olga, sitting side by side on the grass. + +Olga had just finished pulling a daisy to pieces. She tossed it away +at Nick's approach, and sprang to meet him. + +"It's very disappointing," she declared. "It's the fourth time I've +done it, and it always comes the same. I've been making the daisies +tell Muriel's fortune, and it always comes to 'He would if he could, +but he can't.' You try this time, Nick." + +"All right. You hold the daisy," said Nick. + +Muriel looked up with a slightly heightened colour. "I think we ought +to be going," she remarked. + +"We have just ordered the horses for four o'clock," Grange said +apologetically. + +She glanced at the watch on her wrist--half-past three. Nick, seated +cross-legged on the grass in front of her, had already, with Olga's +able assistance, begun his game. + +Swiftly the tiny petals fell from his fingers. He was very intent, +and in spite of herself Muriel became intent too, held by a most +unaccountable fascination. So handicapped was he that he could not +even pull a flower to pieces without assistance. And yet-- + +Suddenly he looked across at her. "He loves her!" he announced. + +"Oh, Nick!" exclaimed Olga reproachfully. "You cheated! You pulled off +two!" + +"He usually does cheat," Muriel observed, plucking a flower of grass +and regarding it with absorption. + +"So do you," retorted Nick unexpectedly. + +"I!" She looked at him in amazement. "What do you mean?" + +"I sha'n't tell you," he returned, "because you know, or you would +know if you took the trouble to find out. Grange, I wish you would +give me a light. Hullo, Olga, there's a hawk! See him? Straight above +that cedar!" + +All turned to look at the dark shape of the bird hovering in mid-air. +Seconds passed. Suddenly there was a flashing, downward swoop, and the +sky was empty. + +Olga exclaimed, and Nick sent up a wild whoop of applause. Muriel gave +a great start and glanced at him. For a single instant his look met +hers; then with a sick shudder, she turned aside. + +"You are cold," said Grange. + +Yes, she was cold. It was as if an icy hand had closed upon her heart. +As from an immense distance, she heard Olga's voice of protest. + +"Oh, Nick, how can you cheer?" + +And his careless reply. "My good child, don't grudge the poor creature +his dinner. Even a bird of prey must live. Come along! We'll go in to +tea. Muriel is cold." + +They went in, and again his easy hospitality overcame all +difficulties. + +When at length the visitors rode away, they left him grinning a cheery +farewell from his doorstep. He seemed to be in the highest spirits. + +They were more than half-way home when Muriel turned impetuously to +her companion, breaking a long silence. + +"Blake," she said, "I am ready to marry you as soon as you like." + + + + +PART IV + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE FACE IN THE STORM + + +Muriel saw very little of her _fiancé_ during the weeks that followed +their visit to Redlands. There was not indeed room for him at the +cottage at Brethaven which she and Daisy had taken for the summer +months. He had, moreover, several visits to pay, and his leave would +be up in September. + +Muriel herself, having once made her decision, had plenty to occupy +her. They had agreed to adhere to Sir Reginald Bassett's plan for +them, and to be married in India some time before Christmas. But she +did not want to go to Lady Bassett's sister before she left England, +and she was glad when Daisy declared that she herself would go to town +with her in the autumn. + +A change had come over Daisy of late, a change which Muriel keenly +felt, but which she was powerless to define. It seemed to date from +the arrival of Nick though she did not definitely connect it with him. +There was nothing palpable in it, nothing even remotely suggestive +of a breach between them; only, subconsciously as it were, Muriel had +become aware that their silence, which till then had been the silence +of sympathy, had subtly changed till it had become the silence of a +deep though unacknowledged reserve. It was wholly intangible, this +change. No outsider would have guessed of its existence. But to the +younger girl it was always vaguely present. She knew that somewhere +between herself and her friend there was a locked door. Her own +reserve never permitted her to attempt to open it. With a species of +pride that was largely composed of shyness, she held aloof. But she +was never quite unconscious of the opposing barrier. She felt that the +old sweet intimacy, that had so lightened the burden of her solitude, +was gone. + +Meanwhile, Daisy was growing stronger, and day by day more active. She +never referred to her baby, and very seldom to her husband. When his +letters arrived she invariably put them away with scarcely a glance. +Muriel sometimes wondered if she even read them. It was pitifully +plain to her that Will Musgrave's place in his wife's heart was very, +very narrow. It had dwindled perceptibly since the baby's death. + +On the subject of Will's letters, Nick could have enlightened her, for +he always appeared at the cottage on mail-day for news. But Muriel, +having discovered this habit, as regularly absented herself, with the +result that they seldom met. He never made any effort to see her. On +one occasion when she came unexpectedly upon him and Olga, shrimping +along the shore, she was surprised that he did not second the child's +eager proposal that she should join them. He actually seemed too keen +upon the job in hand to pay her much attention. + +And gradually she began to perceive that this was the attitude towards +her that he had decided to assume. What it veiled she knew not, nor +did she inquire. It was enough for her that hostilities had ceased. +Nick apparently was bestowing his energies elsewhere. + +Midsummer passed, and a July of unusual heat drew on. Dr. Jim and his +wife and boys had departed to Switzerland. Nick and Olga had elected +to remain at Redlands. They were out all day long in the motor or +dogcart, on horseback or on foot. Life was one perpetual picnic to +Olga just then, and she was not looking forward to the close of the +summer holidays when, so her father had decreed, she was to return to +her home and the ordinary routine. Nick's plans were still unsettled +though he spoke now and then of a prospective return to India. He must +in any case return thither, so he once told her, whether he decided +to remain or not. It was not a pleasant topic to Olga, and she always +sought to avoid any allusion to it. After the fashion of children, she +lived in the present, and enjoyed it to the full: bathing with +Muriel every morning, and spending the remainder of the day in Nick's +society. The friendship between these two was based upon complete +understanding. They had been comrades as long as Olga could remember. +Given Nick, it was very seldom that she desired any one besides. + +Muriel had ceased to marvel over this strange fact. She had come to +realise that Nick was, and always must be, an enigma to her. In +the middle of July, when the heat was so intense as to be almost +intolerable, Daisy received a pressing invitation to visit an old +friend, and to go yachting on the Broads. She refused it at first +point-blank; but Muriel, hearing of the matter before the letter was +sent, interfered, and practically insisted upon a change of decision. + +"It is the very thing for you," she declared. "Brethaven has done +its best for you. But you want a dose of more bracing air to make you +quite strong again. It's absurd of you to dream of throwing away such +an opportunity. I simply won't let you do it." + +"But how can I possibly leave you all alone?" Daisy protested. "If the +Ratcliffes were at home, I might think of it, but--" + +"That settles it," Muriel announced with determination. "I never heard +such nonsense in my life. What do you think could possibly happen +to me here? You know perfectly well that a couple of weeks of my own +society would do me no harm whatever." + +So insistent was she, that finally she gained her point, and Daisy, +albeit somewhat reluctantly, departed for Norfolk, leaving her to her +own devices. + +The heat was so great in those first days of solitude that Muriel was +not particularly energetic. Apart from her early swim with Olga, and +an undeniably languid stroll in the evening, she scarcely left the +precincts of the cottage: No visitors came to her. There were none but +fisher-folk in the little village. And so her sole company consisted +of Daisy's _ayah_ and the elderly English cook. + +But she did not suffer from loneliness. She had books and work in +plenty, and it was even something of a relief, though she never owned +it, to be apart from Daisy for a little. They never disagreed, but +always at the back of her mind there lay the consciousness of a gulf +between them. + +She was at first somewhat anxious lest Nick should feel called upon +to entertain her, and should invite her to accompany him and Olga upon +some of their expeditions. But he did not apparently think of it, and +she was always very emphatic in assuring Olga that she was enjoying +her quiet time. + +She and Nick had not met for some weeks, and she began to think it +more than probable that they would not do so during Daisy's absence. +Under ordinary circumstances this expectation of hers would doubtless +have been realised, for Nick had plainly every intention of keeping +out of her way; but the day of emergency usually dawns upon a world of +sleepers. + +The brooding heat culminated at last in an evening of furious storm, +and Muriel speedily left the dinner-table to watch the magnificent +spectacle of vivid and almost continuous lightning over the sea. +It was a wonder that always drew her. She did not feel the nervous +oppression that torments so many women, or if she felt it she rose +above it. The splendour of the rising storm lifted her out of herself. +She had no thought for anything else. + +For more than half an hour she stood by the little sitting-room +window, gazing out upon the storm-tossed water. It had not begun to +rain, but the sound of it was in the air, and the earth was waiting +expectantly. There seemed to be a feeling of expectation everywhere. +She was vaguely restless under it, curiously impatient for the climax. + +It came at last, so suddenly, so blindingly, that she reeled back +against the curtain in sheer, physical recoil. The whole sky seemed to +burst into flame, and the crash of thunder was so instantaneous that +she felt as if a shell had exploded at her feet. Trembling, she hid +her face. The world seemed to rock all around her. For the first time +she was conscious of fear. + +Then as the thunder died into a distant roar, the heavens opened as if +at a word of command, and in one marvellous, glittering sheet the rain +burst forth. + +She lifted her head to gaze upon this new wonder that the incessant +lightning revealed. The noise was like the sharp rattle of musketry, +and it almost drowned the heavier artillery overhead. The window was +blurred and streaming, but the brilliance outside was such that every +detail in the little garden was clear to her notwithstanding. And +though she still trembled, she nerved herself to look forth. + +An instant later she sprang backwards with a wild cry of terror. +A face--a wrinkled face that she knew--was there close against the +window-pane, and had looked into her own. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE LIFTING OF THE MASK + + +Out of a curious numbness that had almost been a swoon there came to +her the consciousness of a hand that rapped and rapped and rapped +upon the pane. She had fled away to the farther end of the room in her +panic. She had turned the lamp low at the beginning of the storm, and +now it burned so dimly that it scarcely gave out any light at all. +Beyond the window, the lightning flashed with an awful luridness +upon the rushing hail. Beyond the window, looking in upon her, and +knocking, knocking, knocking, stood the figure of her dread. + +She came to herself slowly, with a quaking heart. It was more horrible +to her than anything she had known since the days of her flight +from the beleaguered fort; but she knew that she must fight down her +horror, she knew as certainly as if a physical force compelled her +that she would have to go to the window, would have to open to the man +who waited there. + +Slowly she brought her quivering body into subjection, while every +nerve twitched and clamoured to escape. Slowly she dragged herself +back to the vision that had struck her with that paralysis of terror. +Resisting feebly, invisibly compelled, she went. + +He ceased to knock, and, his face against the pane, he spoke +imperatively. What he said, she could not hear in that tumult of +mighty sound. Only she felt his insistence, answered to it, was +mastered by it. + +White-faced, with horror clutching at her heart, she undid the catch. +His one hand, strong, instinct with energy, helped her to raise the +sash. In a moment he was in the room, bare-headed, drenched from head +to foot. + +She fell back before him, but he scarcely looked at her. He shut +the window sharply, then strode to the lamp, and turned it up. +Then, abruptly he wheeled and spoke in a voice half-kindly, +half-contemptuous. "Muriel, you're a little idiot!" + +There was little in the words to comfort her, yet she was instantly +and vastly reassured. She was also for the moment overwhelmingly +ashamed, but he did not give her time to think of that. + +"I couldn't get in any other way," he said. "I tried the doors first, +hammered at them, but no one came. Look here! Olga is ill, very ill, +and she wants you badly. Are you brave enough to come?" + +"Oh!" Muriel said, with a gasp. "Now, do you mean? With--with you?" + +He threw her an odd look under his flickering eyelids, and she noted +with a scared minuteness of attention the gleam of the lamplight on +their pale lashes. She had always hated pale eyelashes. They seemed to +her untrustworthy. + +"Yes," he told her grimly. "All alone--with me--in the storm. Shall +you be afraid--if I give you my hand to hold? You've done it before." + +Was he mocking her weakness? She could not say. She only knew that he +watched her with the intensity of an eagle that marks its quarry. He +did not mean her to refuse. + +"What is the matter with Olga?" she asked. + +"I don't know. I believe it is sunstroke. We were motoring in the +mid-day heat. She didn't seem to feel it at the time, but her head +ached when we got in. She is in a high fever now. I've sent my man on +in the motor to fetch Jim's locum from Weir. I should have brought the +dogcart myself, to fetch you, but I couldn't trust the horse in this." + +"You left her alone to come here?" Muriel questioned. + +He nodded. "I had no choice. She wished it. Besides, there were +none but women-folk left. She's got one of them with her, the least +imbecile of the lot, which isn't saying much. They're all terrified +of course at the storm--all except Olga. She is never afraid of +anything." + +A frightful crash of thunder carried away his words. Before it had +rolled away, Muriel was at the door. She made a rapid sign to him, and +was gone. + +Nick chafed up and down the room, waiting for her. The storm continued +with unabated violence, but he did not give it a thought. He was +counting the moments with feverish impatience. + +Muriel's absence scarcely lasted for five minutes, but when she +came back all trace of fear had left her. Her face showed quiet and +matter-of-fact above the long waterproof in which she had wrapped +herself. Over her arm she carried a waterproof cloak. + +She held it out to him. "It's one of Daisy's, but you are to wear it. +I think you must be mad to have come out without anything." + +She put it round his shoulders; and he thanked her with a smothered +laugh. + +A terrific blast of wind and rain met them as they emerged from the +cottage, nearly whirling Muriel off her feet. She made an instinctive +clutch at her companion and instantly her hand was caught fast in his. +He drew her arm close under his own, and she did not resist him. There +was something reassuring in his touch. + +Later she wondered if they spoke at all during that terrible walk. She +could never recall a word on either side. And yet, though in a measure +frightened, she was not panic-stricken. + +The storm was beginning to subside a little before they reached +Redlands, though the rain still fell heavily. In the intervals between +the lightning it was pitch dark. They had no lantern, but Nick was +undismayed. He walked as lightly and surely as a cat, and Muriel +had no choice but to trust herself unreservedly to his guidance. She +marvelled afterwards at the complete trust with which that night he +had managed to inspire her, but at the time she never questioned it. + +Yet when the lights of Redlands shone at last through the gloom, she +breathed a sigh of relief. Instantly Nick spoke. + +"Well done!", he said briefly. "You are your father's daughter still." + +She knew that she flushed in the darkness, and was glad that he could +not see her face. + +"You must go and get dry, first of all," he went on. "I told them to +light a fire somewhere. And you are to have some coffee too. Mind, I +say it." + +To this she responded with some spirit. "I will if you will." + +"I must go straight to Olga," he said. "I promised I would." + +"Not in your wet things!" Muriel exclaimed. "No, Nick! Listen! I am +not wet, not as you are. Let me go to Olga first. You can send me some +coffee in her room if you like. But you must go at once and change. +Promise you will, Nick!" + +She spoke urgently. For some reason the occasion seemed to demand it. + +Nick was silent for a little, as if considering. Then as they finally +reached the porch he spoke in a tone she did not altogether fathom. + +"I say, you are not going to shut me out, you know." + +She looked up in astonishment. "Of course not. I never dreamt of such +a thing." + +"All right," he said, and this time she knew he spoke with relief. "I +will do as you like then." + +A moment more, and he opened the door, standing aside for her to pass. +She entered quickly, glad to be in shelter, and paused to slip off her +streaming waterproof. He took it from her, passing his hand over her +sleeve. + +"You are sure you are not wet through?" + +"Quite sure," she told him. "Take me straight up, won't you?" + +"Yes. Come this way." + +He preceded her up the wide stairs where he might have walked beside +her, not pausing for an instant till he stood at Olga's door. + +"Go straight in," he said then. "She is expecting you. Tell her, if +she wants to know, that I am coming directly." + +He passed on swiftly with the words, and disappeared into a room close +by. + +Very softly Muriel turned the door-handle and entered. Olga's voice +greeted her before she was well in the room. It sounded husky and +strained. + +"Muriel! Dear Muriel! I'm so glad you've come. I've wanted you so you +can't think. Where's Nick?" + +"He is coming, dearest." Muriel went forward to the bed, and took in +hers the two hands eagerly extended. + +The child was lying in an uneasy position, her hair streaming in a +disordered tangle about her flushed face. She was shivering violently +though the hands Muriel held were burning. "You came all through this +awful storm," she whispered. "It was lovely of you, dear. I hope you +weren't frightened." + +Muriel sat down beside her. "And you have been left all alone," she +said. + +"I didn't mind," gasped Olga. "Mrs. Ellis--that's the cook--was here +at first. But she was such an ass about the thunder that I sent her +away. I expect she's in the coal cellar." + +A gleam of fun shone for an instant in her eyes, and was gone. The +fevered hands closed tightly in Muriel's hold. "I feel so ill," she +murmured, "so ill." + +"Where is it, darling?" Muriel asked her tenderly. + +"It's, it's all over me," moaned Olga. "My head worst, and my throat. +My throat is dreadful. It makes me want to cry." + +There was little that Muriel could do to ease her. She tied back the +tossing hair, and rearranged the bedclothes; then sat down by her +side, hoping she might get some sleep. + +Not long after, Nick crept in on slippered feet, but Olga heard him +instantly, and started up with out-flung arms. "Nick, darling, I want +you! I want you! Come quite close! I think I'm going to die. Don't let +me, Nick!" + +Muriel rose to make room for him, but he motioned her back sharply; +then knelt down himself by the child's pillow and took her head upon +his arm. + +"Stick to it, sweetheart!" he murmured softly. "There's a medicine man +coming, and you'll be better presently." Olga cuddled against him +with a sigh, and comforted by the close holding of his arm dropped +presently into an uneasy doze. + +Nick never stirred from his position, and mutely Muriel sat and +watched him. There was a wonderful tenderness about him just then, a +softness with which she was strangely familiar, but which almost she +had forgotten. If she had never seen him before that moment, she knew +that she would have liked him. + +He seemed to have wholly forgotten her presence. His entire attention +was concentrated upon the child. His lips twitched from time to time, +and she knew that he was very anxious, intensely impatient under his +stillness for the doctor's coming. She remembered that old trick of +his. She had never before associated it with any emotion. + +Suddenly he turned his head as if he had felt her scrutiny, and looked +straight into her eyes. It was only for a moment. His glance flickered +beyond her with scarcely a pause. Yet it was to her as if by that +swift look he had spoken, had for the first time made deep and +passionate protest against her bitter judgment of him, had as it were +shown her in a single flash the human heart beneath the jester's garb. + +And again very deep down in her soul there stirred that blind, +unconscious entity, of the existence of which she herself had so vague +a knowledge, feeling upwards, groping outwards, to the light. + +There came upon her a sudden curious sense of consternation--a feeling +as of a mental earthquake when the very foundations of the soul +are shaken. Had she conceivably been mistaken in him? With all her +knowledge of him, had she by some strange mischance--some maddening, +some inexplicable misapprehension--failed utterly and miserably to see +this man as he really was? + +For the first time the question sprang up within her. And she found no +answer to it--only that breathless, blank dismay. + +Softly Nick's voice broke in upon her seething doubt. He had laid Olga +back upon the pillow. + +"The doctor is here. Do you mind staying with her while I go?" + +"You'll come back, Nick?" the child urged, in her painful whisper. + +"Yes, I'll come back," he promised. "Honest Injun!" + +He touched her cheek lightly at parting, and Olga caught the caressing +hand and pressed it against her burning lips. Muriel saw his face +as he turned from the bed. It was all softened and quivering with +emotion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +AT THE GATE OF DEATH + + +In the morning they knew the worst. Olga had scarlet fever. + +The doctor imparted the news to Nick and Muriel standing outside +the door of the sick-room. Nick's reception of it was by no +means characteristic. For the first time in her life Muriel saw +consternation undisguised upon the yellow face. + +"Great Jupiter!" he said. "What a criminal ass I am!" + +At another moment she could have laughed at the tragic force of his +self-arraignment. Even as it was, she barely repressed a smile as she +set his mind at rest. She needed no explanation. It was easy enough to +follow the trend of his thoughts just then. + +"If you are thinking of me," she said, "I have had it." + +She saw his instant relief, though he merely acknowledged the +statement by a nod. + +"We must have a nurse," he said briefly. "We shall manage all right +then. I'll do my turn. Oh, stuff!" at a look from the doctor. "I +sha'n't hurt. I'm much too tough a morsel for microbes to feed on." + +Possibly the doctor shared this opinion, for he made no verbal +protest. It fell to Muriel to do this later in the day when the nurse +was installed, and she was at liberty to leave Olga's room. Nick +had just returned from the post-office whence he had been sending a +message to the child's father. She came upon him stealing up to take a +look at her. Seeing Muriel he stopped. "How is she?" + +Muriel moved away to an open window at the end of the passage before +she made reply. He followed her, and they stood together, looking out +upon the sunset. + +"The fever is very high," she said. "And she is suffering a good deal +of pain. She is not quite herself at times." + +"You mean she is worse?" He looked at her keenly. + +It was exactly what she did mean. Olga had been growing steadily worse +all day. Yet when abruptly he turned to leave her, Muriel laid a hasty +hand upon his arm. + +"Nick," she said, and her voice was almost imploring, "don't go in! +Please don't go in!" + +He stopped short. "Why not?" + +She removed her hand quickly. "It's so dangerous--besides being +unnecessary. Won't you be sensible about it?" + +He gave his head a queer upward jerk, and stood as one listening, not +looking at her. "What for?" + +She could not think of any very convincing reason for the moment. Yet +it was imperative that he should see the matter as she saw it. + +"Suppose I had not had it," she ventured, "what would you have done?" + +"Packed you off to the cottage again double quick," said Nick +promptly. + +It was the answer she had angled for. She seized upon it. "Well, tell +me why." + +He spun round on his heels and faced her. He was blinking very +rapidly. "You asked me that question once before," he said. "And out +of a sentimental consideration for your feelings--I didn't answer +it. Do you really want an answer this time, or shall I go on being +sentimentally considerate?" + +She heard the old subtle jeering note in his voice, but its effect +upon her was oddly different from what it had ever been before. It +did not anger her, nor did it wholly frighten her. It dawned upon her +suddenly that, though possibly it lay in his power to hurt her, he +would not do so. + +She answered him with composure. "I don't want you to be anything +but sensible, Nick. And it isn't sensible to expose yourself to +unnecessary risk. It's wrong." + +"That's my lookout," said Nick. + +It was indubitably; but she wanted very much to gain her point. + +"Won't you at least keep away unless she asks for you?" she urged. + +"You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me," said Nick. + +"I am not," she returned quickly. "I am not. You know it isn't that." + +"Do I?" he said quizzically. "It's one of the few things I shouldn't +have known without being told. Well, I'm sorry I can't consent to be +sensible as you call it. I am quite sure personally that there isn't +the slightest danger. It isn't so infectious at this stage, you know. +Perhaps by-and-by, when she is through the worst, I will think about +it." + +He spoke lightly, but she was aware of the anxiety that underlay the +words. She said no more, reminding herself that argument with Nick was +always futile, sometimes worse. Nevertheless she found some comfort +in the smile with which he left her. He had refused to treat with her, +but his enmity--if enmity it could be called--was no longer active. He +had proclaimed a truce which she knew he would not break. + +Olga was delirious that night, and privately Muriel was glad that she +had not been able to exclude him; for his control over the child was +wonderful. As once with a tenderness maternal he had soothed her, +so now he soothed Olga, patiently, steadfastly, even with a certain +cheeriness. It all came back to her as she watched him, the strength +of the man, his selfless devotion. + +She could see that both doctor and nurse thought very seriously of +the child. The former paid a late visit, but said very little beyond +advising her to rest if she could in an adjacent room. Both Nick and +the nurse seconded this, and, seeing there was nothing that she could +do, she gave way in the matter, lying down as she was with but small +expectation of sleep. But she was wearier than she knew, and the +slumber into which she fell was deep, and would have lasted for some +hours undisturbed. + +It was Nick who roused her, and starting up at his touch, she knew +instantly that what they had all mutely feared had drawn very near. +His face told her at a glance, for he made no effort to dissemble. + +"The nurse thinks you had better come," was all he said. + +She pushed the hair from her forehead, and turned without a word to +obey the summons. But at the door something checked her, something +cried aloud within her, bidding her pause. She stopped. Nick was close +behind her. Swiftly, obedient to the voice that cried, she stretched +out her hand to him. He gripped it fast, and she was conscious for an +instant of a curious gladness, a willingness to leave it in his hold, +that she had never experienced before. But at the door of Olga's room +he softly relinquished it, and drew back. + +Olga was lying propped on pillows, and breathing quickly. The nurse +was bending over her with a glass, but Olga's face was turned away. +She was watching the door. + +As Muriel came to her, the light eyes brightened to quick +intelligence, and the parted lips tried to speak. But no sound came +forth, and a frown of pain succeeded the effort. + +Muriel stooped swiftly and grasped the slender hand that lay clenched +upon the sheet. + +"There, darling! Don't try to talk. It hurts you so. We are both here, +Nick and I, and we understand all about it." + +It was the first time she had ever voluntarily coupled herself with +him. It came to her instinctively to do it in that moment. + +But Olga had something to say, something apparently that must be said. +With infinite difficulty she forced a husky whisper. Muriel stooped +lower to catch it, so low that her face was almost touching the face +upon the pillow. + +"Muriel," came haltingly from the parched lips, "there's something--I +want--to say to you--about Nick." + +Muriel felt the blood surging at her temples as the faint words +reached her. She would have given anything to know that he was out of +earshot. + +"Won't you say it in the morning, darling?" she said, almost with +pleading in her voice. "It's so late now." + +It was not late. It was very, very early--the solemn hour when +countless weary ones fall into their long sleep. And the moment she +had spoken, her heart smote her. Was she for her own peace of mind +trying to silence the child's last words on earth? + +"No, never mind, dear," she amended tenderly. "I am listening to you. +Tell me now." + +"Yes," panted Olga. "I must. I must. You remember--that day--with the +daisies--the day we saw--the hawk?" + +Yes, well Muriel remembered it. The thought of it went through her +like a stab. + +"Yes, dear. What of it?" she heard herself say. + +"Well, you know--I've thought since--that the daisies meant Nick, +not--not--I can't remember his name, Muriel." + +"Do you mean Captain Grange, dear?" + +"Yes, yes, of course. He was there too, wasn't he? I'm sure now--quite +sure--they didn't mean him." + +"Very likely not, dear." + +"And Muriel--do you know--Nick was just miserable--after you went. I +sort of felt he was. And late--late that night I woke up, and I crept +down to him--in the library. And he had his head down on the table--as +if--as if--he was crying. Oh, Muriel!" + +A sharp sob interrupted the piteous whisper. Muriel folded her arms +about the child, pillowing the tired head on her breast. All the fair +hair had been cut off earlier in the day. Its absence gave Olga a very +babyish appearance. + +Brokenly, with many gasping pauses, the pathetic little story came to +an end. "I went to him--and I asked him what it was. And he--he looked +up with that funny face he makes--you know--and he just said, 'Oh, +it's all right. I've been feeding on dust and ashes all day long, +that's all. And it's dry fare for a thirsty man!' He thought--I +wouldn't know what he meant. But I did, Muriel. And I always wanted +to tell you. But--somehow--you wouldn't let me. He meant you. He was +hurt--so hurt--because you weren't kind to him. Oh, Muriel, won't +you--won't you--try to be kind to him now? Please, dear, please!" + +Muriel's eyes sought Nick, and instantly a thrill of surprise and +relief shot through her. He had not heard that request of Olga's. She +doubted if he had heard anything. He was sunk in a chair well in the +background with his head on his hand, and looking at him she saw his +shoulders shake with a soundless sob. + +She looked away again with a sense of trespass. This--this was the man +who had fought and cursed and slain under her eyes--the man from whose +violence she had shrunk appalled, whose strength had made her shudder +many a time. She had never imagined that he could grieve thus--even +for his little pal Olga. + +Tenderly she turned back to the child. That single glimpse of the man +in pain had made it suddenly easy to grant her earnest prayer. + +"I won't be unkind to him again, darling," she promised softly. + +"Never any more?" insisted Olga. + +"Never any more, my darling." + +Olga made a little nestling movement against her. It was all she +wanted, and now that the effort of asking was over she was very tired. + +The nurse drew softly back into the shadow, and a deep silence fell in +the room. Through it in a long, monotonous roar there came the sound +of the sea breaking, eternally breaking, along the beach. + +No one moved. Olga's breathing was growing slower, so much slower that +there were times when Muriel, listening intently, fancied that it +had wholly ceased. She held the little slim body close in her arms, +jealously close, as though she were defying Death itself. And ever +through the stillness she could hear her own heart beating like the +hoofs of a galloping horse. + +Slowly the night began to pass. The outline of the window-frame became +visible against a faint grey glimmer. The window was open, and a +breath of the coming dawn wandered in with the fragrance of drenched +roses. A soft rain was falling. The patter of it could be heard upon +the leaves. + +Again Muriel listened for the failing breath, listened closely, +tensely, her face bent low to the fair head that lay so still upon her +breast. + +But she heard nothing--nothing but her own heart quickening, +quickening, from fear to suspense, from suspense to the anguish of +conviction. + +She lifted her face at last, and in the same instant there arose +a sudden flood of song from the sleeping garden, as the first lark +soared to meet the dawn. + +Half-dazed, she listened to that marvellous outpouring of gladness, so +wildly rapturous, so weirdly holy. On, ever on, pealed the bird-voice; +on to the very Gates of Heaven, and it seemed to the girl who +listened as though she heard a child's spirit singing up the steeps +of Paradise. With her heart she followed it till suddenly she heard +no more. The voice ceased as it had begun, ceased as a burst of music +when an open door is closed--and there fell in its stead a silence +that could be felt. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE ARMISTICE + + +She could not have said for how long she sat motionless, the slight, +inert body clasped against her breast. Vaguely she knew that the +night passed, and with it the wondrous silence that had lain like a +benediction upon the dawn. A thousand living things awoke to rejoice +in the crystal splendour of the morning; but within the quiet room the +spell remained unlifted, the silence lay untouched. It was as though +the presence of Death had turned it into a peaceful sanctuary that no +mere earthly tumult could disturb. + +She sat in a species of waking stupor for a long, long time, not +daring to move lest the peace that enfolded her should be shattered. +Higher and higher the sun climbed up the sky till at last it topped +the cedar-trees and shone in upon her, throwing a single ray of purest +gold across the foot of the bed. Fascinated, she watched it travel +slowly upwards, till a silent, one-armed figure arose and softly drew +the curtain. + +The room grew dim again. The world was shut out. She was not conscious +of physical fatigue, only of a certain weariness of waiting, waiting +for she knew not what. It seemed interminable, but she would not seek +to end it. She was as a soldier waiting for the order to quit his +post. + +There came a slight movement at last. Someone touched her, whispered +to her. She looked up blankly, and saw the nurse. But understanding +seemed to have gone from her during those long hours. She could not +take in a word. There arose a great surging in her brain, and the +woman's face faded into an indistinct blur. She sat rigid, afraid to +move lest she should fall. + +She heard vague whisperings over her head, and an arm that was like a +steel spring encircled her. Someone lifted her burden gently from her, +and a faint murmur reached her, such as a child makes in its sleep. + +Then the arm that supported her gradually raised her up till she +was on her feet. Mechanically she tried to walk, but was instantly +overcome by a sick sense of powerlessness. + +"I can't!" she gasped. "I can't!" + +Nick's voice answered her in a quick, confident whisper. "Yes, you +can, dear. It's all right. Hang on to me. I won't let you go." + +She obeyed him blindly. There was nothing else to do. And so, +half-led, half-carried, she tottered from the room. + +A glare of sunlight smote upon her from a passage-window with a +brilliance that almost hurt her. She stood still, clinging to Nick's +shoulder. + +"Oh, Nick," she faltered weakly, "why don't they--pull down the +blinds?" + +Nick turned aside, still closely holding her, into the room in which +she had rested for the earlier part of the night. + +"Because, thank God," he said, "there is no need. Olga is going to +live." + +He helped her down into an easy-chair, and would have left her; but +she clung to him still, weakly but persistently. + +"Oh, Nick, don't laugh! Tell me the truth for once! Please, Nick, +please!" + +He yielded to her so abruptly that she was half-startled, dropping +suddenly down upon his knees beside her, the morning light full upon +his face. + +"I am telling you the truth," he said. "I believe you have saved her +life. She has been sleeping ever since sunrise." + +Muriel gazed at him speechlessly; but she no longer suspected him of +trying to deceive her. If he had never told her the truth before that +moment he was telling it to her then. + +She gave a little gasping cry of relief unspeakable, and hid her face. +The next moment Nick was on his feet. She heard his quick, light step +as he crossed the threshold, and realised thankfully that he had left +her alone. + +A little later, a servant brought her a breakfast-tray with a message +from the master of the house to the effect that he hoped she would go +to bed and take a long rest. + +It was excellent advice, and she acted upon it; for since the worst +strain was over, sleep had become an urgent necessity to her. She +wondered as she lay down if Nick were following the same course. She +hoped he was, for she had a curiously vivid memory of the lines that +sleeplessness had drawn about his eyes. + +It was late afternoon when she awoke, and sat swiftly up with a +confused sense of being watched. + +"Don't jump like that!" a gruff voice said. "Lie down again at once. +You are not to get up till to-morrow morning." + +She turned with a shaky laugh of welcome to find Dr. Jim seated +frowning by her side. He laid a compelling hand upon her shoulder. + +"Lie down again, do you hear? There's nothing for you to do. Olga is +much better, and doesn't want you." + +"And Nick?" said Muriel. + +They were the first words that occurred to her. She said them +hurriedly, with heightened colour. + +Jim Ratcliffe frowned more than ever. He was feeling her pulse. "A +nice couple of idiots you are!" he grimly remarked. "You needn't worry +about Nick. He has gone for a ride. As soon as he comes back, he will +dine and go to bed." + +"Can't I get up to dinner?" Muriel suggested. + +She could scarcely have said why she made the proposal, and she was +certainly surprised when Jim Ratcliffe fell in with it. He looked at +his watch. "Well, you may if you like. You will probably sleep the +better for it. But I'll have no nonsense, mind, Muriel. You're to do +as you're told." + +Muriel smiled acquiescence. She felt that everything was right now +that Dr. Jim had returned to take the direction of affairs into his +own hands. He had come back alone, and he intended to finish his +holiday under Nick's roof. So much he told her before, with an abrupt +smile, he thanked her for her care of his little girl and took himself +off. + +She almost regretted her decision when she came to get up, for the +strain was telling upon her more than she had realised. Not since +Simla days had she felt so utterly worn out. She was glad of the cup +of tea which Dr. Jim sent in to her before she left her room. + +Sitting on the cushioned window-seat to drink it, she heard the tread +of a horse's feet along the drive, and with a start she saw Nick come +into view round a bend. + +Her first impulse was to draw back out of sight, but the next moment +she changed her mind and remained motionless. Her heart was suddenly +beating very fast. + +He was riding very carelessly, the bridle lying on the horse's neck. +The evening sun was shining full in his face, but he did not seem to +mind. His head was thrown back. He rode like a returning conqueror, +wearied it might be, but triumphant. + +Passing into the shadow of the house, he saw her instantly, and the +smile that flashed into his face was one of sheer exultation. He +dropped the bridle altogether to wave to her. + +"Up already? Have you seen old Jim?" + +She nodded. It was impossible at the moment not to reflect his smile. +"I am coming down soon," she told him. + +"Come now," said Nick persuasively. + +She hesitated. He was slipping from his horse. A groom came up and +took the animal from him. + +Nick paused below her window, and once more lifted his grinning, +confident face. + +"I say, Muriel!" + +She leaned down a little. "Well?" + +"Don't come if you don't want to, you know." + +She laughed half-reluctantly, conscious of a queer desire to please +him. Olga's words were running in her brain. He had fed on dust and +ashes. + +Yet still she hesitated. "Will you wait for me?" + +"Till doomsday," said Nick obligingly. + +And drawn by a power that would not be withstood, she went down, still +smiling, and joined him in the garden. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE EAGLE STRIKES + + +Olga's recovery, when the crisis of the disease was past, was more +rapid than even her father had anticipated; and this fact, combined +with a spell of glorious summer weather, made the period of her +quarantine very tedious, particularly as Nick was rigidly excluded +from the sick-room. + +At Olga's earnest request Muriel consented to remain at Redlands. +Daisy had written to postpone her own return to the cottage, having +received two or three invitations which she wished to accept if Muriel +could still spare her. + +Blake was in Scotland. His letters were not very frequent, and though +his leave was nearly up, he did not speak of returning. + +Muriel was thus thrown upon Jim Ratcliffe's care--a state of affairs +which seemed to please him mightily. It was in fact his presence that +made life easy for her just then. She saw considerably more of him +than of Nick, the latter having completely relegated the duties of +host to his brother. Though they met every day, they were seldom alone +together, and she began to have a feeling that Nick's attitude towards +her had undergone a change. His manner was now always friendly, but +never intimate. He did not seek her society, but neither did he avoid +her. And never by word or gesture did he refer to anything that had +been between them in the past. She even wondered sometimes if there +might not possibly have been another interpretation to Olga's story. +That unwonted depression of his that the child had witnessed had +surely never been inspired by her. + +She found the time pass quickly enough during those six weeks. The +care of Olga occupied her very fully. She was always busy devising +some new scheme for her amusement. + +Mrs. Ratcliffe returned to Weir, and Dr. Jim determined to transfer +Olga to her home as soon as she was out of quarantine. With paternal +kindliness, he insisted that Muriel must accompany her. Daisy's return +was still uncertain, though it could not be long delayed; and Muriel +had no urgent desire to return to the lonely life on the shore. + +So, to Olga's outspoken delight, she yielded to the doctor's +persuasion, and on the afternoon preceding the child's emancipation +from her long imprisonment she walked down to the cottage to pack her +things. + +It was a golden day in the middle of September and she lingered awhile +on the shore when her work was done. There was not a wave in all the +vast, shimmering sea. The tide was going out, and the shallow ripples +were clear as glass as they ran out along the white beach. Muriel +paused often in her walk. She was sorry to leave the little +fishing-village, realising that she had been very happy there. Life +had passed as smoothly as a dream of late, so smoothly that she had +been content to live in the present with scarcely a thought for the +future. + +This afternoon she had begun to realise that her peaceful time was +drawing to an end. In a few weeks more, she would be in town in all +the bustle of preparation. And further still ahead of her--possibly +two months--there loomed the prospect of her return to India, of Lady +Bassett's soft patronage, of her marriage. + +She shivered a little as one after another these coming events +presented themselves. There was not one of them that she would not +have postponed with relief. She stood still with her face to the +sunlit sea, and told herself that her summer in England had been all +too short. She had an almost passionate longing for just one more year +of home. + +A pebble skimming past her and leaping from ripple to ripple like, a +living thing caught her attention. She turned sharply, and the next +moment smiled a welcome. + +Nick had come up behind her unperceived. She greeted him with pleasure +unfeigned. She was tired of her own morbid thoughts just then. +Whatever he might be, he was at least never depressing. + +"I'm saying good-bye," she told him. "I don't suppose I shall ever +come here again." + +He came and stood beside her while he grubbed in the sand with a +stick. + +"Not even to see me?" he suggested. + +"Are you going to live here?" she asked in surprise. + +"Oh, I suppose so," said Nick, "when I marry." + +"Are you going to be married?" Almost in spite of her the question +leapt out. + +He looked up, grinning shrewdly. "I put it to you," he said. "Am I the +sort of man to live alone?" + +She experienced a curious sense of relief. "But you are not alone in +the world," she pointed out. "You have relations." + +"You regard marriage as a last resource?" questioned Nick. + +She coloured and turned her face to the shore. "I don't think any man +ought to marry unless--unless--he cares," she said, striving hard to +keep the personal note out of her voice. + +"Exactly," said Nick, moving beside her. "But doesn't that remark +apply to women as well?" + +She did not answer him. A discussion on this topic was the last thing +she desired. + +He did not press the point, and she wondered a little at his +forbearance. She glanced at him once or twice as they walked, but his +humorous, yellow face told her nothing. + +Reaching some rocks, he suddenly stopped. "I've got to get some +seaweed for Olga. Do you mind waiting?" + +"I will help you," she answered. + +He shook his head. "No, you are tired. Just sit down in the sun. I +won't be long." + +She seated herself without protest, and he turned to leave her. A few +paces from her he paused, and she saw that he was trying to light a +cigarette. He failed twice, and impulsively she sprang up. + +"Nick, why don't you ask me to help you?" + +He whizzed round. "Perhaps I don't want you to," he said quizzically. + +She took the match-box from him. "Don't be absurd! Why shouldn't I?" +She struck a match and held it out to him. But he did not take it +from her. He took her wrist instead, and stooping forward lighted his +cigarette deliberately. + +She did not look at him. Some instinct warned her that his eyes were +intently searching her face. She seemed to feel them darting over her +in piercing, impenetrable scrutiny. + +He released her slowly at length and stood up. "Am I to have the +pleasure of dancing at your wedding?" he asked her suddenly. + +She looked up then very sharply, and against her will a burning blush +rose up to her temples. He waited for her answer, and at last it came. + +"If you think it worth your while." + +"I would come from the other side of the world to see you made happy," +said Nick. + +She turned her face aside. "You are very kind." + +"Think so?" There was a note of banter in his voice. "It's the first +time you ever accused me of that." + +She made no rejoinder. She had a feeling at the throat that prevented +speech, even had she had any words to utter. Certainly, as he had +discovered, she was very tired. It was physical weariness, no doubt, +but she had an almost overmastering desire to shed childish tears. + +"You trot back now," said Nick cheerily. "I can grub along quite well +by myself." + +She turned back silently. Why was it that the world seemed so grey +and cold on that golden summer afternoon? She sat down again in the +sunshine, and began to trace an aimless design in the sand with the +stick Nick had left behind. Away in the distance she heard his cracked +voice humming. Was he really as cheerful as he seemed, she wondered? +Or was he merely making the best of things? + +Again her thoughts went back to Olga's pathetic little revelation. +Strange that she who knew him so intimately should never have seen him +in such a mood! But did she know him after all? It was a question +she had asked herself many times of late. She remembered how he had +lightly told her that he had a reverse side. But had she ever really +seen it, save for those brief glimpses by Olga's bedside, and as it +was reflected in the child's whole-souled devotion to him? She wished +with all her heart that he would lift the veil just once for her and +show her his inner soul. + +Again her thoughts passed to her approaching marriage. She had +received a letter from Blake that day, telling her at length of his +plans. He and Daisy had been staying in the same house, but he was +just returning to town. He was to sail in less than a fortnight, and +would come and say good-bye to her immediately before his departure. +The letter had been courteously kind throughout, but she had not felt +tempted to read it again. It contained no reference to their wedding, +save such as she chose to attribute to the concluding sentence: "We +can talk everything over when we meet." A sense of chill struck +her when she recalled the words. He was very kind, of course, and +invariably meant well; but she had begun to realise of late that there +were times when she found him a little heavy and unresponsive. Not +that she had ever desired any demonstration of tenderness from him, +heaven knew. But the very consciousness that she had not desired this +added to the chill. She was not quite sure that she wanted to see him +again before he sailed. Certainly he had never bored her; but it was +not inconceivable that he might do so. She shivered ever so slightly. +It was not an exciting prospect--life with Blake. He was quite sure to +be kind to her. He would consider her in every way. But was that after +all quite all she wanted? A great sigh welled suddenly up from the +bottom of her heart. Life was ineffably dreary--when it was not +revoltingly horrible. + +"Shall I tell you what is the matter?" said Nick. + +She started violently, and found him leaning across the flat rock +on which she was seated. His eyes were remarkably bright. She had a +feeling that he suppressed a laugh as his look flickered over her. + +"Sorry I made you jump," he said. "You ought to be used to me by this +time. Anyhow you needn't be frightened. My venom was extracted long +ago." + +She turned to him with sudden, unconsidered impulse. "Oh, Nick," she +said, "I sometimes think to myself I've been a great fool." + +He nodded. Her vehemence did not seem to surprise him. "I thought it +would strike you sooner or later," he said. + +She laughed in spite of herself with her eyes full of tears. "There's +not much comfort in that." + +"I haven't any comfort to give you," said Nick, "not at this stage. +I'll give you advice if you like--which I know you won't take." + +"No, please don't! That would be even worse." There was a tremor in +her voice. She knew that she had stepped off the beaten track; but she +had an intense, an almost passionate longing to go a little further, +to penetrate, if only for a moment, that perpetual mask. + +"Don't let us talk of my affairs," she said. "Tell me of your own. +What are you going to do?" + +Nick's eyebrows went up. "I thought I was coming to your wedding," he +remarked. "That's as far as I've got at present." + +She made a gesture of impatience. "Do you never think of the future?" + +"Not in your presence," laughed Nick. "I think of you--you--and only +you. Didn't you know?" + +She turned away in silence. Was he tormenting her deliberately? Or did +he fail to see that she was in earnest? + +There followed a pause, and then, urged by that unknown impulse that +would not be repressed, she did a curious thing. She got up, and, +facing him, she made a very earnest appeal. + +"Nick, why do you always treat me like this? Why will you never be +honest with me?" + +There was more of pain than reproach in the words. Her voice was deep +and very sad. + +But Nick scarcely looked at her. He was pulling tufts of dried seaweed +off the rock on which he leaned. + +"My dear girl," he said, "how can you expect it?" + +"Expect it!" she echoed. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" + +He drew himself slowly to a sitting posture. "How can I be honest with +you," he said, "when you are not honest with yourself?" + +"What do you mean?" she said again. + +He gave her an odd look. "You really want me to tell you?" + +"Of course I do." She spoke sharply. The old scared feeling was awake +within her, but she would not yield to it. Now or never would she read +the enigma. She would know the truth, cost what it might. + +"What I mean is this," said Nick. "You won't own it, of course, but +you are cheating, and you are afraid to stop. There isn't one woman in +ten thousand who has the pluck to throw down the cards when once she +has begun to cheat. She goes on--as you will go on--to the end of her +life, simply because she daren't do otherwise. You are out of the +straight, Muriel. That's why everything is such a hideous failure. You +are going to marry the wrong man, and you know it." + +He looked up at her again for an instant as he said it. He had spoken +with his usual shrewd decision, but there was no hint of excitement +about him. He might have been discussing some matter of a purely +impersonal nature. + +Muriel stood mutely poking holes in the sand. She could find nothing +to say to this matter-of-fact indictment. + +"And now," Nick proceeded, "I will tell you why you are doing it." + +She started at that, and looked up with flaming cheeks. "I don't think +I want to hear any more, Nick. It--it's rather late in the day, isn't +it?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. "I knew you would be afraid to face it. +It's easier, isn't it, to go on cheating?" + +Her eyes gleamed for a moment. He had flicked a tender place. +"Very well," she said proudly. "Say what you like. It will make no +difference. But please understand that I admit none of this." + +Nick's grin leapt goblin-like across his face and was gone. "I never +expected it of you," he told her coolly. "You would sooner die than +admit it, simply because it would be infinitely easier for you to die. +You will be false to yourself, false to Grange, false to me, rather +than lower that miserable little rag of pride that made you jilt me +at Simla. I didn't blame you so much then. You were only a child. +You didn't understand. But that excuse won't serve you now. You are a +woman, and you know what Love is. You don't call it by its name, but +none the less you know it." + +He paused for an instant, for Muriel had made a swift gesture of +protest. + +"I don't think you know what you are saying," she said, her voice very +low. + +He sprang abruptly to his feet. "Yes," he said, speaking very rapidly. +"That's how you will trick yourself to your dying day. It's a way +women have. But it doesn't help them. It won't help you. For that +thing in your heart--the thing that is fighting for air--the thing +you won't own--the thing that drove you to Grange for protection--will +never die. That is why you are miserable. You may do what you will to +it, hide it, smother it, trample it. But it will survive for all that. +All your life it will be there. You will never forget it though you +will try to persuade yourself that it belongs to a dead past. All your +life,"--his voice vibrated suddenly, and the ever-shifting eyes blazed +into leaping flame--"all your life, you will remember that I was once +yours to take or to throw away. And--you wanted me, yet--you chose to +throw me away." + +Fiercely he flung the words at her. There was nothing impersonal +about him now. He was vitally, overwhelmingly, in earnest. A deep +glow covered the parchment face. The man was as it were electrified by +passion. + +And Muriel gazed at him as one gazing upon sudden disaster. What was +this, what was this, that he had said to her? He had rent the veil +aside for her indeed. But to what dread vision had he opened her eyes? + +The old paralysing fear was knocking at her heart. She dreaded each +instant to see the devil leap out upon his face. But as the seconds +passed she realised that he was still his own master. He had flung +down the gauntlet, but he would go no further, unless she took it up. +And this she could not do. She knew that she was no match for him. + +He was watching her narrowly, she knew, and after a few palpitating +moments she nerved herself to meet his look. She felt as if it +scorched her, but she would not shrink. Not for a moment must he fancy +that those monstrous words of his had pierced her quivering heart. +Whatever happened later, when this stunned sense of shock had left +her, she must not seem to take them seriously now, with his watching +eyes upon her. + +And so at last she lifted her head and faced him with a little +quivering laugh, brave enough in itself, but how piteous she never +guessed. + +"I don't think you are quite so clever as you used to be, Nick," she +told him, "though I admit,"--her lips trembled--"that you are very +amusing sometimes. Blake once told me that you had the eyes of a +snake-charmer. Is it true, I wonder? Anyhow, they don't charm me." + +She stopped rather breathlessly, half-frightened by his stillness. +Would he understand that it was not her intention to defy him--that +she was only refusing the conflict? + +For a few moments her heart beat tumultuously, and then came a great +throb of relief. Yes, he understood. She had nought to fear. + +He put his hand sharply over his eyes, turning from her. "I have never +tried to charm you," he said, in a voice that sounded curiously choked +and unfamiliar. "I have only--loved you." + +In the silence that followed, he began to walk away from her, moving +noiselessly over the sand. + +Mutely she watched him, but she dared not call him back. And very soon +she was quite alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT + + +It did not take Dr. Jim long to discover that some trouble or at the +least some perplexity was weighing upon his young guest's mind. He +also shrewdly remarked that it dated from the commencement of +her visit at his house. No one else noticed it, but this was not +surprising. There was always plenty to occupy the attention in the +Ratcliffe household, and only Dr. Jim managed to keep a sharp eye upon +every member thereof. Moreover, by a casual observer, there was little +or nothing that was unusual to be detected in Muriel's manner. Quiet +she certainly was, but she was by no means listless. Her laugh did not +always ring quite true, that was all. And her eyes drooped a little +wearily from time to time. There were other symptoms, very slight, +wholly imperceptible to any but a trained eye, yet not one of which +escaped Dr. Jim. + +He made no comment, but throughout that first week of her stay he +watched her unperceived, biding his time. During several motor rides +on which she accompanied him he maintained this attitude while she sat +all unsuspecting by his side. She had never detected any subtlety in +this staunch friend of hers, and, unlike Daisy, she felt no fear of +him. His blunt sincerity had never managed to wound her. + +And so it was almost inevitable that she should give him his +opportunity at last. + +Late one evening she entered his consulting-room where he was busy +writing. + +"I want to talk to you," she said. "Is it very inconvenient?" + +The doctor leaned back in his chair. "Sit down there," he said, +pointing to one immediately facing him. + +She laughed and obeyed, faintly blushing. "I'm not a patient, you +know." + +He drew his black brows together. "It's very late. Why don't you go to +bed?" + +"Because I want to talk to you." + +"You can do that to-morrow," bluntly rejoined Dr. Jim. "You can't +afford to sacrifice your sleep to chatter." + +"I am not sacrificing any sleep," Muriel told him rather wearily. "I +never sleep before morning." + +He laid down his pen and gave her one of his hard looks. "Then you are +a very silly girl," he said curtly at length. + +"It isn't my fault," she protested. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "You all say that. It's the most ordinary +lie I know." + +Muriel smiled. "I know you are longing to give me something nasty. You +may if you like. I'll take it, whatever it is." + +Dr. Jim was silent for a space. He continued to regard her steadily, +with a scrutiny that spared her nothing. She sat quite still under it. +He had never disconcerted her yet. But when he leaned suddenly forward +and took her wrist between his fingers, she made a slight, instinctive +effort to frustrate him. + +"Be still," he ordered. "What makes you so absurdly nervous? Want of +sleep, eh?" + +Her lips trembled a little. "Don't probe too deep, doctor," she +pleaded. "I am not very happy just now." + +"Why don't you tell me what is the matter?" he asked gruffly. + +She did not answer, and he continued frowning over her pulse. + + +"What do you want to talk to me about?" he asked at last. + +She looked up with an effort. "Oh, nothing much. Only a letter from +a Mrs. Langdale who lives in town. She is going to India in November, +and says she will take charge of me if I care to go with her. She has +invited me to go and stay with her beforehand." + +"Well?" said Jim, as she paused. + +"I don't want to go," she said. "Do you think I ought? She is Lady +Bassett's sister." + +"I think it would probably do you good, if that's what you mean," he +returned. "But I don't suppose that consideration has much weight with +you. Why don't you want to go?" + +"I don't like strangers, and I hate Lady Bassett," Muriel answered, +with absolute simplicity. "Then there is Daisy. I don't know what her +plans are. I always thought we should go East together." + +"There's no sense in waiting for Daisy's plans to develop," declared +Jim. "She is as changeable as the wind. Possibly Nick will be able to +make up her mind for her. I fancy he means to try." + +"Nick! You don't mean he will travel with Daisy?" There was almost a +tragic note in Muriel's voice. She looked up quickly into the shrewd +eyes that watched her. + +"Why shouldn't he?" said Jim. + +"I don't know. I never thought of it." Muriel leaned back again, a +faint frown of perplexity between her eyes. "Perhaps," she said slowly +at length, "I had better go to Mrs. Langdale." + +"I should in your place," said Jim. "That handsome soldier of yours +won't want to be kept waiting, eh?" + +"Oh, he wouldn't mind." The weariness was apparent again in her voice, +and with it a tinge of bitterness. "He never minds anything," she +said. + +Jim grunted disapproval. "And you? Are you equally indifferent?" + +Her pale face flushed vividly. She was silent a moment; then suddenly +she sat up and met his look fully. + +"You'll think me contemptible, I know," she said, a great quiver in +her voice. "I can't help it; you must. Dr. Jim, I'll tell you the +truth. I--I don't want to go to India. I don't want to be married--at +all." + +She ended with a swift rush of irrepressible tears. It was out at +last, this trouble of hers that had been gradually growing behind the +barrier of her reserve, and it seemed to burst over her in the telling +in a great wave of adversity. + +"I've done nothing but make mistakes," she sobbed "ever since Daddy +died." + +Dr. Jim got up quietly to lock the door. The grimness had passed from +his face. + +"My dear," he said gruffly, "we all of us make mistakes directly we +begin to run alone." + +He returned and sat down again close to her, waiting for her to +recover herself. She slipped out a trembling hand to him, and he took +it very kindly; but he said no more until she spoke. + +"It's very difficult to know what to do." + +"Is it? I should have said you were past that stage." His tone was +uncompromising, but the warm grip of his hand made up for it. His +directness did not dismay her. "If you are quite sure you don't care +for the fellow, your duty is quite plain." + +Muriel raised her head slowly. "Yes, but it isn't quite so simple as +that, doctor. You see, it's not as if--as if--we either of us ever +imagined we were--in love with each other." + +Jim's eyebrows went up. "As bad as that?" + +She leaned her chin on her hand. "I am sure there must be crowds of +people who marry without ever being in love." + +"Yes," said Jim curtly. "And kindle their own hell in doing it." + +She started a little. "You think that?" + +"I know it. I have seen it over and over again. Full half of the +world's misery is due to it. But you won't do that, Muriel. I know you +too well." + +Muriel glanced up at him. "Do you know me? I don't think you would +have expected me to accept him in the first place." + +"Depends what you did it for," said Jim. + +She fell suddenly silent, slowly twisting the ring on her finger. "He +knew why," she said at last in a very low voice. "In fact--in fact he +asked me for that reason." + +"And the reason still exists?" + +She bent her head. "Yes." + +"A reason you are ashamed of?" pursued the doctor. + +She did not answer, and he drew his great brows together in deep +thought. + +"You don't propose to take me any further into your confidence?" he +asked at last. + +She made a quick, impulsive movement. "You--you--I think you know." + +"Will you let me tell you what I know?" he said. + +She shrank perceptibly. "If--if you won't make it too hard for me." + +"I can't answer for that," he returned. "It depends entirely upon +yourself. My knowledge does not amount to anything very staggering +in itself. It is only this--that I know a certain person who would +cheerfully sacrifice all he has to make you happy, and that you have +no more cause to fear persecution from that person than from the man +in the moon." + +He paused; but Muriel did not speak. She was still absently turning +her engagement ring round and round. + +"To verify this," he said, "I will tell you something which I am sure +you don't know--which in fact puzzled me, too, considerably, for +some time. He has already sacrificed more than most men would care to +venture in a doubtful cause. It was no part of his plan to follow you +to England. He set his face against it so strongly that he very nearly +ended his mortal career for good and all in so doing. As it was, he +suffered for his lunacy pretty heavily. You know what happened. He was +forced to come in the end, and he paid the forfeit for his delay." + +Again he paused, for Muriel had sprung upright with such tragedy in +her eyes that he knew he had said enough. The next moment she was on +her feet, quivering all over as one grievously wounded. + +"Oh, do you know what you are saying?" she said, and in her voice +there throbbed the cry of a woman's wrung heart. "Surely--surely he +never did that--for me!" + +He did not seem to notice her agitation. "It was a fairly big price +to pay for a piece of foolish sentiment, eh?" he said. "Let us hope he +will know better next time." + +He looked up at her with a faintly cynical smile, but she was standing +with her face averted. He saw only that her chin was quivering like a +hurt child's. + +"Come," he said at length. "I didn't tell you this to distress you, +you know. Only to set your mind at rest, so that you might sleep +easy." + +She mastered herself with an effort, and turned towards him. "I know; +yes, I know. You--you have been very kind. Good-night, doctor." + +He rose and went with her to the door. "You are not going to lie awake +over this?" + +She shook her head. "Good-night," she said again. + +He watched her down the passage, and then returned to his writing. +He smiled to himself as he sat down, but this time wholly without +cynicism. + +"No, Nick, my boy," he said, as he drove his pen into the ink. "She +won't lie awake for you. But she'll cry herself to sleep for your +sake, you gibbering, one-armed ape. And the new love will be the old +love before the week is out, or I am no weather prophet." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF + + +The gale that raged along the British coasts that autumn was the +wildest that had been known for years. It swelled quite suddenly out +of the last breezes of a superb summer, and by the middle of September +it had become a monster of destruction, devastating the shore. The +crumbling cliffs of Brethaven testified to its violence. Beating +rain and colossal, shattering waves united to accomplish ruin and +destruction. And the little fishing-village looked on aghast. + +It was on the third day of the storm that news was brought to Nick +of a landslip on his own estate. He had been in town ever since his +guests' departure, and had only returned on the previous evening. He +did not contemplate a long stay. The place was lonely without Olga, +and he was not yet sufficiently proficient in shooting with one arm to +enjoy the sport, especially in solitude. He was in fact simply waiting +for an opportunity which he was convinced must occur before long, of +keeping a certain promise made to a friend of his on a night of early +summer in the Indian Plains. + +It was a wild day of drifting squalls and transient gleams of +sunshine. He grimaced to himself as he sauntered forth after luncheon +to view the damage that had been wrought upon his property. The ground +he trod was sodden with long rain, and the cedars beyond the lawn +plunged heavily to and fro in melancholy unrest, flinging great drops +upon him as he passed. The force of the gale was terrific, and he had +to bend himself nearly double to meet it. + +With difficulty he forced his way to the little summer-house that +overlooked the shore. He marvelled somewhat to find it still standing, +but it was sturdily built and would probably endure as long as the +ground beneath it remained unshaken. + +But beyond it a great gap yawned. The daisy-covered space on which +they had sat that afternoon, now many weeks ago, had disappeared. +Nothing of it remained but a crumbling desolation to which the daisies +still clung here and there. + +Nick stood in such shelter as the summer-house afforded, and looked +forth upon the heaving waste of waters. The tide was rising. He +could see the great waves swirling white around the rocks. Several +land-slips were visible from this post of observation. The village was +out of sight, tucked away behind a great shoulder of cliff; but an old +ruined cottage that had been uninhabited for some time had entirely +disappeared. Stacks of seaweed had been thrown up upon the deserted +shore, and lay in great masses above the breakers. The roar of the +incoming tide was like the continuous roll of thunder. + +It was a splendid spectacle and for some time he stood, with his face +to the driving wind, gazing out upon the empty sea. There was not a +single vessel in all that wide expanse. + +Slowly at last his vision narrowed. His eyes came down to the great +gash at his feet where red earth and tufts of grass mingled, where +the daisies had grown on that June day, where she had sat, proud and +aloof, and watched him fooling with the white petals. Very vividly +he recalled that summer afternoon, her scorn of him, her bitter +hostility--and the horror he had surprised in her dark eyes when the +hawk had struck. He laughed oddly to himself, his teeth clenched upon +his lower lip. How furiously she had hated him that day! + +He turned to go; but paused, arrested by some instinct that bade +him cast one more look downwards along the howling shore. In another +moment he was lying full length upon the rotten ground, staring +intently down upon the group of rocks more than two hundred feet below +him. + +Two figures--a man and a woman--had detached themselves from the +shelter of these rocks, and were moving slowly, very slowly, towards +the path that led inwards from the shore. They were closely linked +together, so much his first glance told him. But there was something +in the man's gait that caught the eye and upon which Nick's whole +attention was instantly focussed. He could not see the face, but +the loose-slung, gigantic limbs were familiar to him. With all his +knowledge of the world of men, he had not seen many such. + +Slowly the two approached till they stood almost immediately beneath +him, and there, as upon mutual impulse, they stopped. It was a corner +protected from the driving blast by the crumbling mass of cliff that +had slipped in the night. The rain was falling heavily again, but +neither the two on the shore nor the solitary watcher stretched on the +perilous edge of the cliff seemed aware of it. All were intent upon +other things. + +Suddenly the woman raised her face, and with a movement that was +passionate reached up her arms and clasped them about the man's bent +neck. She was speaking, but no sound or echo of words was audible +in that tumult. Only her face lifted to the beating rain, with its +passion of love, its anguish of pain, told the motionless spectator +something of their significance. + +It was hidden from him almost at once by the man's massive head; but +he had seen enough, more than enough, to verify a certain suspicion +which had long been quartered at the back of his brain. + +Stealthily he drew himself back from the cliff edge, and sat up on the +damp grass. Again his eyes swept the horizon; there was something of a +glare in them. He was drenched through and through by the rain, but +he did not know it. Had Muriel seen him at that moment she might have +likened him with a shudder to an eagle that viewed its quarry from +afar. + +He returned to the house without further lingering, and spent the two +hours that followed in prowling ceaselessly up and down his library. + +At the end of that time he sat down suddenly at the writing-table, and +scrawled a hasty note. His face, as he did so, was like the face of an +old man, but without the tolerance of age. + +Finishing, he rang for his servant. "Take this note," he said, "and +ask at the Brethaven Arms if a gentleman named Captain Grange is +putting up there. If he is, send in the note, and wait for an answer. +If he is not, bring it back." + +The man departed, and Nick resumed his prowling. It seemed that he +could not rest. Once he went to the window and opened it to listen to +the long roar of the sea, but the fury of the blast was such that +he could scarcely stand against it. He shut it out, and resumed his +tramp. + +The return of his messenger brought him to a standstill. + +"Captain Grange was there, sir. Here is his answer." + +Nick grabbed the note with a gesture that might have indicated either +impatience or relief. He held the envelope between his teeth to slit +it open, and they left a deep mark upon it. + + "Dear Ratcliffe," he read. "If I can get to you through this + murderous storm, I will. Expect me at eight o'clock.--Yours, + B. Grange." + +"All right," said Nick over his shoulder. "Captain Grange will dine +with me." + +With the words he dropped the note into the fire, and then went away +to dress. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +BY SINGLE COMBAT + + +By eight o'clock Nick was lounging in the hall, awaiting his guest, +but it was more than a quarter of an hour later that the latter +presented himself. + +Nick himself admitted him with a cheery grin. "Come in," he said. +"You've had a pretty filthy walk." + +"Infernal," said Grange gloomily. + +He entered with a heavy, rather bullied air, as if he had come against +his will. Shaking hands with his host, he glanced at him somewhat +suspiciously. + +"Glad you managed to come," said Nick hospitably. + +"What did you want to see me for?" asked Grange. + +"The pleasure of your society, of course." Nick's benignity was +unassailable, but there was a sharp edge to it somewhere of which +Grange was uneasily aware. "Come along and dine. We can talk +afterwards." + +Grange accompanied him moodily to the dining-room. "I thought you were +away," he remarked, as they sat down. + +"I was," said Nick. "Came back last night. When do you sail?" + +"On Friday. I came down to say good-bye." + +"Muriel is at Weir," observed Nick. + +"Yes. I shall go on there to-morrow. Daisy is only here for a night or +two to pack up her things." + +"And then?" said Nick. + +Grange stiffened perceptibly. "I don't know what her plans are. She +never makes up her mind till the last minute." + +Nick laughed. "She evidently hasn't taken you into her confidence. She +is going East this winter." + +Grange looked up sharply. "I don't believe it." + +"It's true all the same," said Nick indifferently, and forthwith +forsook the subject. + +He started other topics, racing, polo, politics, airily ignoring his +guest's undeniable surliness, till at last Grange's uneasiness began +to wear away. He gradually overcame his depression, and had even +managed to capture some of his customary courtesy before the end of +dinner. His attitude was quite friendly when they finally adjourned to +the library to smoke. + +Nick followed him into the room and stopped to shut the door. + +Grange had gone straight to the fire, and he did not see him slip +something into his pocket as he came forward. + +But he did after several minutes of abstraction discover something not +quite normal in Nick's silence, and glanced down at him to ascertain +what it was. + +Nick had flung himself into a deep easy-chair, and was lying quite +motionless with his head back upon the cushion. His eyes were closed. +He had been smoking when he entered, but he had dropped his cigar half +consumed into an ash-tray. + +Grange looked at him with renewed uneasiness, and looked away again. +He could not help feeling that there was some moral tension somewhere; +but he had never possessed a keen perception, he could not have said +wherein it lay. + +He retired into his shell once more and sat down facing his host in +silence that had become dogged. + +Suddenly, without moving, Nick spoke. + +His words were slightly more deliberate than usual, very even, very +distinct. "To come to the point," he said. "I saw you on the shore +this afternoon--you and Mrs. Musgrave." + +"What?" Grange gave a great start and stared across at him, gripping +the arms of his chair. + +Nick's face, however, remained quite expressionless. "I saw you," he +repeated. + +With an effort Grange recovered himself. "Did you though? I wondered +how you knew I was down here. Where were you?" + +There was an abrupt tremor behind Nick's eyelids, but they remained +closed. "I was on the top of the cliff, on my own ground, watching +you." + +Dead silence followed his answer--a silence through which the sound of +the sea half a mile away swelled terribly, like the roar of a monster +in torment. + +Then at last Nick's eyes opened. He looked Grange straight in the +face. "What are you going to do?" he said. + +Grange's hands dropped heavily from the chair-arms, and his whole +great frame drooped slowly forward. He made no further attempt at +evasion, realising the utter futility of such a course. + +"Do!" he said wearily. "Nothing." + +"Nothing?" said Nick swiftly. + +"No, nothing," he repeated, staring with a dull intentness at the +ground between his feet. "It's an old story, and the less said about +it the better. I can't discuss it with you or any one. I think it was +a pity you took the trouble to watch me this afternoon." + +He spoke with a certain dignity, albeit he refused to meet Nick's +eyes. He looked unutterably tired. + +Nick lay quite motionless in his chair, inscrutably still, save for +the restless glitter behind his colourless eyelashes. At length, "Do +you remember a conversation we had in this room a few months ago?" he +asked. + +Grange shook his head slightly, too engrossed with his miserable +thoughts to pay much attention. + +"Well, think!" Nick said insistently. "It had to do with your +engagement to Muriel Roscoe. Perhaps you have forgotten that too?" + +Grange looked up then, shaking off his lethargy with a visible effort. +He got slowly to his feet, and drew himself up to his full giant +height. + +"No," he said, "I have not forgotten it." + +"Then," said Nick, "once more--what are you going to do?" + +Grange's face darkened. He seemed to hesitate upon the verge of +vehement speech. But he restrained himself though the hot blood +mounted to his temples. + +"I have never yet broken my word to a woman," he said. "I am not going +to begin now." + +"Why not?" said Nick, with a grin that was somehow fiendish. + +Grange ignored the gibe. "There is no reason why I should not marry +her," he said. + +"No reason!" Nick's eyes flashed upwards for an instant, and a curious +sense of insecurity stabbed Grange. + +Nevertheless he made unfaltering reply. "No reason whatever." + +Nick sat up slowly and regarded him with minute attention. "Are you +serious?" he asked finally. + +"I am absolutely serious," Grange told him sternly. "And I warn you, +Ratcliffe, this is not a subject upon which I will bear interference." + +"Man alive!" jeered Nick. "You must think I'm damned easily scared." + +He got up with the words, jerking his meagre body upright with a +slight, fierce movement, and stood in front of Grange, arrogantly +daring. + +"Now just listen to this," he said. "I don't care a damn how you take +it, so you may as well take it quietly. It's no concern of mine to +know how you have whitewashed this thing over and made it look +clean and decent--and honourable--to your fastidious eye. What I am +concerned in is to prevent Muriel Roscoe making an unworthy marriage. +And that I mean to do. I told you in the summer that she should be no +man's second best, and, by Heaven, she never shall. I had my doubts +of you then. I know you now. And--I swear by all things sacred that I +will see you dead sooner than married to her." + +He broke off for a moment as though to get a firmer grip upon +himself. His face was terrible, his body tense as though controlled by +tight-strung wires. + +Before Grange could speak, he went on rapidly, with a resolution more +deadly if less passionate than before. + +"If either of you had ever cared, it might have been a different +matter. But you never did. I knew that you never did. I never troubled +to find out your reason for proposing to her. No doubt it was strictly +honourable. But I always knew why she accepted you. Did you know that, +I wonder?" + +"Yes, I did." Grange's voice was deep and savage. He glowered down +upon him in rising fury. "It was to escape you." + +Nick's eyes flamed back like the eyes of a crouching beast. He uttered +a sudden, dreadful laugh. "Yes--to escape me," he said, "to escape me! +And it has fallen to me to deliver her from her chivalrous protector. +If you look all round that, you may see something funny in it." + +"Funny!" burst forth Grange, letting himself go at last. "It's what +you have been playing for all along, you infernal mountebank! But you +have overreached yourself this time. For that very reason I will never +give her up." + +He swung past Nick with the words, goaded past endurance, desperately +aware that he could not trust himself within arm's length of that +gibing, devilish countenance. + +He reached the door and seized the handle, wrenched furiously for a +few seconds, then flung violently round. + +"Ratcliffe," he exclaimed, "for your own sake I advise you not to keep +me here!" + +But Nick had remained with his face to the fire. He did not so much +as glance over his shoulder. He had suddenly grown intensely quiet. "I +haven't quite done with you," he said. "There is just one thing more I +have to say." + +Grange was already striding back like an enraged bull, but something +in the voice or attitude of the man who leaned against the mantelpiece +without troubling to face him, brought him up short. + +Against his will he halted. "Well?" he demanded. + +"It's only this," said Nick. "You know as well as I do that I possess +the means to prevent your marriage to Muriel Roscoe, and I shall +certainly use that means unless you give her up of your own accord. +You see what it would involve, don't you? The sacrifice of your +precious honour--and not yours only." + +He paused as if to allow full vent to Grange's anger, but still he did +not change his position. + +"You damned cur!" said Grange, his voice hoarse with concentrated +passion. + +Nick took up his tale as if he had not heard. "But, on the other hand, +if you will write and set her free now, at once--I don't care how you +do it; you can tell any likely lie that occurs to you--I on my part +will swear to you that I will give her up entirely, that I will never +plague her again, will never write to her or attempt in any way to +influence her life, unless she on her own initiative makes it quite +clear that she desires me to do so." + +He ceased, and there fell a dead silence, broken only by the lashing +rain upon the windows and the long, deep roar of the sea. He seemed to +be listening to them with bent head, but in reality he heard nothing +at all. He had made the final sacrifice for the sake of the woman he +loved. To secure her happiness, her peace of mind, he had turned his +face to the desert, at last, and into it he would go, empty, beaten, +crippled, to return no more for ever. + +Across the lengthening silence Grange's voice came to him. There was a +certain hesitation in it as though he were not altogether sure of his +ground. + +"I am to take your word for all that?" + +Nick turned swiftly round. "You can do as you choose. I have nothing +else to offer you." + +Grange abandoned the point abruptly, feeling as a man who has lost his +footing in a steep place and is powerless to climb back. Perhaps even +he was vaguely conscious of something colossal hidden away behind that +baffling, wrinkled mask. + +"Very well," he said, with that dogged dignity in which Englishmen +clothe themselves in the face of defeat. "Then you will take my word +to set her free." + +"To-night?" said Nick. + +"To-night." + +There was another pause. Then Nick crossed to the door and unlocked +it. + +"I will take your word," he said. + +A few seconds later, when Grange had gone, he softly shut and locked +the door once more, and returned to his chair before the fire. Great +gusts of rain were being flung against the window-panes. The +wind howled near and far with a fury that seemed to set the walls +vibrating. Now and then dense puffs of smoke blew out across the +hearth into the room, and the atmosphere grew thick and stifling. + +But Nick did not seem aware of these things. He sat on unheeding in +the midst of his dust and ashes while the storm raged relentlessly +above his head. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + + +With the morning there came a lull in the tempest though the great +waves that spent themselves upon the shore seemed scarcely less +mountainous than when they rode before the full force of the storm. + +In Daisy Musgrave's cottage above the beach, a woman with a white, +jaded face sat by the window writing. A foreign envelope with an +Indian stamp lay on the table beside her. It had not been opened; and +once, glancing up, she pushed it slightly from her with a nervous, +impatient movement. Now and then she sat with her head upon her hand +thinking, and each time she emerged from her reverie it was to throw +a startled look towards the sea as though its ceaseless roar unnerved +her. + +Nevertheless, at sight of a big, loosely-slung figure walking slowly +up the flagged path, a quick smile flashed into her face, making it +instantly beautiful. She half rose from her chair, and then dropped +back again, still faintly smiling, while the light which only one +man's coming can kindle upon any woman's face shone upon hers, erasing +all weariness and bitterness while it lingered. + +At the opening of the door she turned without rising. "So you have +come after all! But I knew you would. Sit down a minute and wait while +I finish this tiresome letter. I have just done." + +She was already scribbling last words as fast as her pen would move, +and her visitor waited for her without a word. + +In a few minutes she turned to him again. "I have been writing a note +to Muriel, explaining things a little. She doesn't yet know that I +am here; but it would be no good for her to join me, for I am only +packing. I shall leave as soon as I can get away. And she too is going +almost at once to Mrs. Langdale, I believe. So we shall probably not +meet again at present. You will be seeing her this afternoon. Will you +give it to her?" + +She held the letter out to him, but he made no move to take it. His +face was very pale, more sternly miserable than she had ever seen it. +"I think you had better post it," he said. + +She rose and looked at him attentively. "Why, what's the matter, +Blake?" she said. + +He did not answer, and she went on immediately, still with her eyes +steadily uplifted. + +"Do you know, Blake, I have been thinking all night, and I have made +up my mind to have done with all this foolish sentimentality +finally and for ever. From to-day forward I enter upon the prosaic, +middle-aged stage. I was upset yesterday at the thought of losing you +so soon. It's been a lovely summer, hasn't it?" She stifled a sigh +half uttered. "Well, it's over. You have to go back to India, and we +must just make the best of it." + +He made a sharp movement, but said nothing. The next moment he dropped +down heavily into a chair and sat bowed, his head in his hands. + +Daisy stood looking down at him, and slowly her expression changed. A +very tender look came into her eyes, a look that made her seem older +and at the same time more womanly. Very quietly she sat down on the +arm of his chair and laid her hand upon him, gently rubbing it to and +fro. + +"My own boy, don't fret, don't fret!" she said. "You will be happier +by-and-by. I am sure of it." + +He took the little hand from his shoulder, and held it against his +eyes. At last after several seconds of silence he spoke. + +"Daisy, I have broken my engagement." + +Daisy gave a great start. A deep glow overspread her face, but it +faded very swiftly, leaving her white to the lips. "My dear Blake, +why?" she whispered. + +He answered her with his head down. "It was Nick Ratcliffe's doing. He +made me." + +"Made you, Blake! What can you mean?" + +Sullenly Grange made answer. "He had got the whip-hand, and I couldn't +help myself. He saw us on the shore together yesterday afternoon, made +up his mind then and there that I was no suitable partner for Muriel, +got me to go and dine with him, and told me so." + +"But Blake, how absurd!" Daisy spoke with a palpable effort. "How--how +utterly unreasonable! What made you give in to him?" + +Grange would not tell her. "I shouldn't have done so," he said +moodily, "if he hadn't given his word that he would never pester +Muriel again. She's well rid of me anyhow. He was right there. She +will probably see it in the same light." + +"What did you say to her?" questioned Daisy. + +"Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? I didn't see her. I wrote. I didn't +tell her anything that it was unnecessary for her to know. In fact +I didn't give her any particular reason at all. She'll think me an +infernal cad. And so I am." + +"You are not, Blake!" she declared vehemently. "You are not!" + +He was silent, still tightly clasping her hand. + +After a pause, she made a gentle movement to withdraw it; but at +that he turned with a sudden mastery and thrust his arms about her. +"Daisy," he broke out passionately, "I can't do without you! I can't! +I can't! I've tried,--Heaven knows how I've tried! But it can't be +done. It was madness ever to attempt to separate us. We were bound to +come together again. I have been drifting towards you always, always, +even when I wasn't thinking of you." + +Fiercely the hot words rushed out. He was holding her fast, though had +she made the smallest effort to free herself he would have let her go. + +But Daisy sat quite still, neither yielding nor resisting. Only at +his last words her lips quivered in a smile of tenderest ridicule. +"I know, my poor old Blake," she said, "like a good ship without a +rudder--caught in a strong current." + +"And it has been the same with you," he insisted. "You have always +wanted me more than--" + +He did not finish, for her hand was on his lips, restraining him. "You +mustn't say it, dear. You mustn't say it. It hurts us both too much. +There! Let me go! It does no good, you know. It's all so vain and +futile--now." Her voice trembled suddenly, and she ceased to speak. + +He caught her hand away, looking straight up at her with that new-born +mastery of his that made him so infinitely hard to resist. + +"If it is quite vain," he said, "then tell me to go,--and I will." + +She tried to meet his eyes, but found she could not. "I--shall have +to, Blake," she said in a whisper. + +"I am waiting," he told her doggedly. + +But she could not say the word. She turned her face away and sat +silent. + +He waited with absolute patience for minutes. Then at last very gently +he took his arms away from her and stood up. + +"I am going back to the inn," he said. "And I shall wait there till +to-morrow morning for your answer. If you send me away, I shall +go without seeing you again. But if--if you decide otherwise,"--he +lowered his voice as if he could not wholly trust it--"then I shall +apply at once for leave to resign. And--Daisy--we will go to the New +World together, and make up there for all the happiness we have missed +in the Old." + +He ended almost under his breath, and she seemed to hear his heart +beat through the words. It was almost too much for her even then. But +she held herself back, for there was that in her woman's soul that +clamoured to be heard--the patter of tiny feet that had never ceased +to echo there, the high chirrup of a baby's voice, the vision of a +toddling child with eager arms outstretched. + +And so she held her peace and let him go, though the struggle within +her left her physically weak and cold, and she did not dare to raise +her eyes lest he should surprise the love-light in them once again. + +It had come to this at last then--the final dividing of the ways, the +definite choice between good and evil. And she knew in her heart what +that choice would be, knew it even as the sound of the closing door +reached her consciousness, knew it as she strained her ears to catch +the fall of his feet upon the flagged path, knew it in every nerve and +fibre of her being as she sprang to the window for a last glimpse of +the man who had loved her all her life long, and now at last had won +her for himself. + +Slowly she turned round once more to the writing-table. The unopened +letter caught her eye. She picked it up with a set face, looked at +it closely for a few moments, and then deliberately tore it into tiny +fragments. + +A little later she went to her own room. From a lavender-scented +drawer she took an envelope, and shook its contents into her hand. +Only a tiny unmounted photograph of a laughing baby, and a ringlet of +baby hair! + +Her face quivered as she looked at them. They had been her dearest +treasures. Passionately she pressed them to her trembling lips, but +she shed no tears. And when she returned to the sitting-room there was +no faltering in her step. + +She poked the fire into a blaze, and, kneeling, dropped her treasures +into its midst. A moment's torture showed in her eyes, and passed. + +She had chosen. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE EAGLE'S PREY + + +During the whole of that day Muriel awaited in restless expectancy the +coming of her _fiancé_. She had not heard from him for nearly a week, +and she had not written in the interval for the simple reason that +she lacked his address. But every day she had expected him to pay his +promised visit of farewell. + +It was hard work waiting for him. If she could have written, she would +have done so days before in such a fashion as to cause him almost +certainly to abandon his intention of seeing her. For her mind was +made up at last after her long torture of indecision. Dr. Jim's +vigorous speaking had done its work, and she knew that her only +possible course lay in putting an end to her engagement. + +She had always liked Blake Grange. She knew that she always would like +him. But emphatically she did not love him, and she knew now with the +sure intuition which all women develop sooner or later that he +had never loved her. He had proposed to her upon a mere chivalrous +impulse, and she was convinced that he would not wish to quarrel with +her for releasing him. + +Yet she dreaded the interview, even though she was quite sure that he +would not lose his self-control and wax violent, as had Nick on that +terrible night at Simla. She was almost morbidly afraid of hurting his +feelings. + +Of Nick she rigidly refused to think at all, though it was no easy +matter to exclude him from her thoughts, for he always seemed to be +clamouring for admittance. But she could not help wondering if, when +Blake had gone at last and she was free, she would be very greatly +afraid. + +She was sitting alone in her room that afternoon, watching the +scudding rain-clouds, when Olga brought her two letters. + +"Both from Brethaven," she said, "but neither from Nick. I wonder if +he is at Redlands. I hope he will come over here if he is." + +Muriel did not echo the hope. She knew the handwriting upon both the +envelopes, and she opened Daisy's first. It did not take long to read. +It simply contained a brief explanation of her presence at Brethaven, +which was due to an engagement having fallen through, mentioned Blake +as being on the point of departure, and wound up with the hope that +Muriel would not in any way alter her plans for her benefit as she was +only at the cottage for a few days to pack her possessions and she did +not suppose that she would care to be with her while this was going +on. + +There was no reference to any future meeting, and Muriel gravely put +the letter away in thoughtful silence. She had no clue whatever to the +slackening of their friendship, but she could not fail to note with +pain how far asunder they had drifted. + +She turned to Grange's letter with a faint wonder as to why he should +have troubled himself to write when he was so short a distance from +her. + +It contained but a few sentences; she read them with widening eyes. + + "Fate or the devil has been too strong for me, and I am + compelled to break my word to you. I have no excuse to offer, + except that my hand has been forced. Perhaps in the end it + will be better for you, but I would have stood by had it been + possible. And even now I would not desert you if I did not + positively know that you were safe--that the thing you feared + has ceased to exist. + + "Muriel, I have broken my oath, and I can hardly ask your + forgiveness. I only beg you to believe that it was not by my + own choice. I was fiendishly driven to it against my will. + I came to this place to say good-bye, but I shall leave + to-morrow without seeing you unless you should wish otherwise. + + "B. Grange." + +She reached the end of the letter and sat quite still, staring at the +open page. + +She was free, that was her first thought, free by no effort of her +own. The explanation she had dreaded had become unnecessary. She would +not even have to face the ordeal of a meeting. She drew a long breath +of relief. + +And then swift as a poisoned arrow came another thought,--a stabbing, +intolerable suspicion. Why had he thus set her free? How had his hand +been forced? By what means had he been fiendishly driven? + +She read the letter through again, and suddenly her heart began to +throb thick and hard, so that she gasped for breath. This was Nick's +doing. She was as sure of it as if those brief, bitter sentences had +definitely told her so. Nick was the motive power that had compelled +Grange to this action. How he had done it, she could not even vaguely +surmise. But that he had in some malevolent fashion come between them +she did not for an instant doubt. + +And wherefore? She put her hand to her throat, feeling suffocated, +as the memory of that last interview with him on the shore raced +with every fiery detail through her brain. He had marked her down for +himself, long, long ago, and whatever Dr. Jim might say, he had never +abandoned the pursuit. He meant to capture her at last. She might +flee, but he was following, tireless, fleet, determined. Presently he +would swoop like an eagle upon his prey, and she would be utterly at +his mercy. He had beaten Grange, and there was no one left to help +her. + +"Oh, Muriel,"--it was Olga's voice from the window--"come here, quick, +quick! I can see a hawk." + +She started as one starts from a horrible dream, and looked round with +dazed eyes. + +"It's hovering!" cried Olga excitedly. "It's hovering! There! Now it +has struck!" + +"And something is dead," said Muriel, in a voiceless whisper. + +The child turned round, saw something unusual in her friend's face, +and went impetuously to her. + +"Muriel, darling, you look so strange. Is anything the matter?" + +Muriel put an arm around her. "No, nothing," she said. "Olga, will it +surprise you very much to hear that I am not going to marry Captain +Grange after all?" + +"No, dear," said Olga. "I never somehow thought you would, and I +didn't want you to either." + +"Why not?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. "I thought you liked +him." + +"Oh, yes, of course I do," said Olga. "But he isn't half the man Nick +is, even though he is a V.C. Oh, Muriel, I wish,--I do wish--you would +marry Nick. Perhaps you will now." + +But at that Muriel cried out sharply and sprang to her feet, almost +thrusting Olga from her. + +"No, never!" she exclaimed, "Never,--never,--never!" Then, seeing +Olga's hurt face, "Oh, forgive me, dear! I didn't mean to be +unkind. But please don't ever dream of such a thing again. It--it's +impossible--quite. Ah, there is the gong for tea. Let us go down." + +They went down hand in hand. But Olga was very quiet for the rest of +the evening; and she did not cling to Muriel as usual when she said +good-night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL + + +It was growing late on that same evening when to Daisy, packing in her +room with feverish haste, a message was brought that Captain Ratcliffe +was waiting, and desired to see her. + +Her first impulse was to excuse herself from the interview, for she +and Nick had never stood upon ceremony; but a very brief consideration +decided her to see him. Since he had come at an unusual hour, it +seemed probable that he had some special object in view, and if that +were so, she would find it hard to turn him from his purpose. But she +resolved to make the interview as brief as possible. She had no place +for Nick in her life just then. + +She entered the little parlour with a certain impetuosity, that was +not wholly spontaneous. "My dear Nick," she said, as she did so, +"I can give you exactly five minutes, not one second more, for I am +frightfully busy packing up my things to leave to-morrow." + +He came swiftly to meet her, so swiftly that she was for the moment +deceived, and fancied that he was about to greet her with his +customary bantering gallantry. But he did not lift her fingers to his +lips after his usual gay fashion. He only held her proffered hand very +tightly for several seconds without verbal greeting of any sort. + +Suddenly he began to speak, and as he did so she seemed to see +a hundred wrinkles spring into being on his yellow face. "I have +something to say to you, Mrs. Musgrave," he said. "And it's something +so particularly beastly that I funk saying it. We have always been +such pals, you and I, and that makes it all the harder." + +He broke off, his shrewd glance flashing over her, keen and elusive as +a rapier. Daisy faced him quite fully and fearlessly. The possibility +of a conflict in this quarter had occurred to her before. She would +not shirk it, but she was determined that it should be as brief as +possible. + +"Being pals doesn't entitle you to go trespassing, Nick," she said. + +"I know that," said Nick, speaking very rapidly. "None better. But +I am not thinking of you only, though I hate to make you angry. Mrs. +Musgrave--Daisy--I want to ask you, and you can't refuse to answer. +What are you doing? What are you going to do?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, speaking coldly. "And anyhow +I can't stop to listen to you. I haven't time. I think you had better +go." + +"You must listen," Nick said. She caught the grim note of +determination in his voice, and was aware of the whole force of his +personality flung suddenly against her. "Daisy," he said, "you are to +look upon me as Will's representative. I am the nearest friend he has. +Have you thought of him at all lately, stewing in those hellish Plains +for your sake? He's such a faithful chap, you know. Can't you go back +to him soon? Isn't it--forgive me--isn't it a bit shabby to play +this sort of game when there's a fellow like that waiting for you and +fretting his very heart out because you don't go?" + +He stopped--his lips twitching with the vigour of his appeal. And +Daisy realised that he would have to be told the simple truth. He +would not be satisfied with less. + +Very pale but quite calm, she braced herself to tell him. "I am afraid +you are pleading a lost cause," she said, her words quiet and very +distinct. "I am never going back to him." + +"Never!" Nick moved sharply drawing close to her. "Never?" he said +again; then with abrupt vehemence, "Daisy, you don't mean that! You +didn't say it!" + +She drew back slightly from him, but her answer was perfectly steady, +rigidly determined. "I have said it, Nick. And I meant it. You had +better go. You will do no good by staying to argue. I know all +that you can possibly say, and it makes no difference to me. I have +chosen." + +"What have you chosen?" he demanded. + +For an instant she hesitated. There was something almost fierce in his +manner, something she had never encountered before, something that +in spite of her utmost effort made her feel curiously uneasy, even +apprehensive. She had always known that there was a certain uncanny +strength about Nick, but to feel the whole weight of it directed +against her was a new experience. + +"What have you chosen?" he repeated relentlessly. + +And reluctantly, more than half against her will, she told him. "I am +going to the man I love." + +She was prepared for some violent outburst upon her words, but +none came. Nick heard her in silence, standing straight before her, +watching her, she felt, with an almost brutal intentness, though his +eyes never for an instant met her own. + +"Then," he said suddenly at length, and quick though they were, +it seemed to her that the words fell with something of the awful +precision of a death-sentence, "God help you both; for you are going +to destroy him and yourself too." + +Daisy made a sharp gesture; it was almost one of shrinking. And at +once he turned from her and fell to pacing the little room, up and +down, up and down incessantly, like an animal in a cage. It was +useless to attempt to dismiss him, for she saw that he would not go. +She moved quietly to a chair and sat down to wait. + +Abruptly at last he stopped, halting in front of her. "Daisy,"--he +began, and broke off short, seeming to battle with himself. + +She looked up in surprise. It was so utterly unlike Nick to relinquish +his self-command at a critical juncture. The next moment he amazed her +still further. He dropped suddenly down on his knees and gripped her +clasped hands fast. + +"Daisy," he said again, and this time words came, jerky and +passionate, "this is my doing. I've driven you to it. If I hadn't +interfered with Grange, you would never have thought of it." + +She sat without moving, but the hasty utterance had its effect upon +her. Some of the rigidity went out of her attitude. "My dear Nick," +she said, "what is the good of saying that?" + +"Isn't it true?" he persisted. + +She hesitated, unwilling to wound him. + +"You know it is true," he declared with vehemence. "If I had let him +alone, he would have married Muriel, and this thing would never have +happened. God knows I did what was right, but if it doesn't turn out +right, I'm done for. I never believed in eternal damnation before, but +if this thing comes to pass it will be hell-fire for me for as long as +I live. For I shall never believe in God again." + +He swung away from her as though in bodily torture, came in contact +with the table and bowed his head upon it. For many seconds his +breathing, thick and short, almost convulsed, was the only sound in +the room. + +As for Daisy, she sat still, staring at him dumbly, witnessing his +agony till the sight of it became more than she could bear. Then she +moved, reached stiffly forward, and touched him. + +"You are not to blame yourself, Nick," she said. + +He did not stir. "I don't," he answered, and again fell silent. + +At last he moved, seemed to pull himself together, finally got to his +feet. + +"Do you think you will be happy?" he said. "Do you think you will +ever manage to forget what you have sacrificed to this fetish you +call Love,--how you broke the heart of one of the best fellows in the +world, and trampled upon the memory of your dead child--the little +chap you used to call the light of your eyes, who used to hold out his +arms directly he saw you and cry when you went away?" + +His voice was not very steady, and he paused but he did not look at +her or seem to expect any reply. + +Daisy gave a great shiver. She felt cold from head to foot. But she +was not afraid of Nick. If she yielded, it would not be through fear. + +A full minute crawled away before he spoke again. "And this fellow +Grange," he said then. "He is a man who values his honour. He has +lived a clean life. He holds an unblemished record. He is in your +hands. You can do what you like with him--whatever your love inspires +you to do. You can pull him back into a straight course, or you can +wreck him for good and all. Which is it going to be, I wonder? It's a +sacrifice either way,--a sacrifice to Love or a sacrifice to devils. +You can make it which you will. But if it is to be the last, never +talk of Love again. For Love--real Love--is the safeguard from all +evil. And if you can do this thing, it has never been above your +horizon, and never will be." + +Again he stopped, and again there was silence while Daisy sat +white-faced and slightly bowed, wondering when it would be over, +wondering how much longer she could possibly endure. + +And then suddenly he bent down over her. His hand was on her shoulder. +"Daisy," he said, and voice and touch alike implored her, "give him +up, dear! Give him up! You can do it if you will, if your love is +great enough. I know how infernally hard it is to do. I've done it +myself. It means tearing your very heart out. But it will be worth +it--it must be worth it--afterwards. You are bound--some time--to reap +what you have sown." + +She lifted a haggard face. There was something in the utterance that +compelled her. And so looking, she saw that which none other of this +man's friend's had ever seen. She saw his naked soul, stripped bare of +all deception, of all reserve,--a vital, burning flame shining in the +desert. The sight moved her as had nought else. + +"Oh, Nick," she cried out desperately, "I can't--I can't!" + +He bent lower over her. He was looking straight down into her eyes. +"Daisy," he said very urgently, "Daisy, for God's sake--try!" + +Her white lips quivered, striving again to refuse. But the words would +not come. Her powers of resistance had begun to totter. + +"You can do it," he declared, his voice quick and passionate as though +he pleaded with her for life itself. "You can do it--if you will. I +will help you. You shan't stand alone. Don't stop to think. Just come +with me now--at once--and put an end to it before you sleep. For you +can't do this thing, Daisy. It isn't in you. It is all a monstrous +mistake, and you can't go on with it. I know you better than you know +yourself. We haven't been pals all these years for nothing. And there +is that in your heart that won't let you go on. I thought it was dead +a few minutes ago. But, thank God, it isn't. I can see it in your +eyes." + +She uttered an inarticulate sound that was more bitter than any +weeping, and covered her face. + +Instantly Nick straightened himself and turned away. He went to the +window and leaned his head against the sash. He had the spent look of +a man who has fought to the end of his strength. The thunder of the +waves upon the shore filled in the long, long silence. + +Minutes crawled away, and still he stood there with his face to the +darkness. At last a voice spoke behind him, and he turned. Daisy had +risen. + +She stood in the lamplight, quite calm and collected. There was even a +smile upon her face, but it was a smile that was sadder than tears. + +"It's been a desperate big fight, hasn't it, Nick?" she said. "But--my +dear--you've won. For the sake of my little baby, and for the sake of +the man I love--yes, and partly for your sake too,"--she held out her +hand to him with the words--"I am going back to the prison-house. No, +don't speak to me. You have said enough. And, Nick, I must go alone. +So I want you, please, to go away, and not to come to me again until I +send for you. I shall send sooner or later. Will you do this?" + +Her voice never faltered, but the misery in her eyes cut him to the +heart. In that moment he realised how terribly near he had been to +losing the hardest battle he had ever fought. + +He gave her no second glance. Simply, without a word, he stooped and +kissed the hand she had given him; then turned and went noiselessly +away. + +He had won indeed, but the only triumph he knew was the pain of a very +human compassion. + +Scarcely five minutes after his departure, Daisy let herself out into +the night that lay like a pall above the moaning shore. She went with +lagging feet that often stumbled in the darkness. It was only the +memory of a baby's head against her breast that gave her strength. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +REQUIESCAT + + +"I believe I heard a gun in the night," remarked Mrs. Ratcliffe at the +breakfast-table on the following morning. + +"Shouldn't be surprised," said Dr. Jim. "I know there was a ship in +distress off Calister yesterday. They damaged the lifeboat trying to +reach her. But the wind seems to have gone down a little this morning. +Do you care for a ride, Muriel?" + +Muriel accepted the invitation gladly. She liked accompanying Dr. Jim +upon his rounds. She had arranged to leave two days later, a decision +which the news of Daisy's presence at Brethaven had not affected. +Daisy seemed to have dropped her for good and all, and her pride would +not suffer her to inquire the reason. She had, in fact, begun to think +that Daisy had merely tired of her, and that being so she was the +more willing to go to Mrs. Langdale, whose letters of fussy kindliness +seemed at least to ensure her a cordial welcome. + +She had discussed her troubles no further with Dr. Jim. Grange's +letter had in some fashion placed matters beyond discussion. And so +she had only briefly told him that her engagement was at an end, and +he had gruffly expressed his satisfaction thereat. Her one idea now +was to escape from Nick's neighbourhood as speedily as possible. It +possessed her even in her dreams. + +She went with Dr. Jim to the surgery when breakfast was over, and sat +down alone in the consulting-room to wait for him. He usually started +on his rounds at ten o'clock, but it wanted a few minutes to the +hour and the motor was not yet at the door. She sat listening for it, +hoping that no one would appear to detain him. + +The morning was bright, and the wind had fallen considerably. Through +the window she watched the falling leaves as they eddied in sudden +draughts along the road. She looked through a wire screen that gave +rather a depressing effect to the sunshine. + +Suddenly from some distance away there came to her the sound of a +horse's hoof-beats, short and hard, galloping over the stones. It +was a sound that arrested the attention, awaking in her a vague, +apprehensive excitement. Almost involuntarily she drew nearer to the +window, peering above the blind. + +Some seconds elapsed before she caught sight of the headlong horseman, +and then abruptly he dashed into sight round a curve in the road. At +the same instant the gallop became a fast trot, and she saw that the +rider was gripping the animal with his knees. He had no saddle. + +Amazed and startled, she stood motionless, gazing at the sudden +apparition, saw as the pair drew nearer what something within her had +already told her loudly before her vision served her, and finally drew +back with a sharp, instinctive contraction of her whole body as the +horseman reined in before the surgery-door and dismounted with a +monkey-like dexterity, his one arm twined in the bridle. A moment +later the surgery-bell pealed loudly, and her heart stood still. She +felt suddenly sick with a nameless foreboding. + +Standing with bated breath, she heard Dr. Jim himself go to answer the +summons, and an instant later Nick's voice came to her, gasping and +uneven, but every word distinct. + +"Ah, there you are! Thought I should catch you. Man, you're +wanted--quick! In heaven's name--lose no time. Grange was drowned +early this morning, and--I believe it's killed Daisy. For mercy's +sake, come at once!" + +There was a momentary pause. Muriel's heart was beating in great +sickening throbs. She felt stiff and powerless. + +Dr. Jim's voice, brief and decided, struck through the silence. "Come +inside and have something. I shall be ready to start in three minutes. +Leave your animal here. He's dead beat." + +There followed the sound of advancing feet, a hand upon the door, and +the next moment they entered together. Nick was reeling a little and +holding Jim's arm. He saw Muriel with a sharp start, standing as she +had turned from the window. The doctor's brows met for an instant as +he put his brother into a chair. He had forgotten Muriel. + +With an effort she overcame the paralysis that bound her, and moved +forward with shaking limbs. + +"Did you say Blake was--dead?" she asked, her voice pitched very low. + +She looked at Nick as she asked this question, and it was Nick who +answered her in his quick, keen way, as though he realised the mercy +of brevity. + +"Yes. He and some fisher chaps went out early this morning in an +ordinary boat to rescue some fellows on a wreck that had drifted on +to the rocks outside the harbour. The lifeboat had been damaged, and +couldn't be used. They reached the wreck all right, but there were +more to save than they had reckoned on--more than the boat would +carry--and the wreck was being battered to pieces. It was only a +matter of seconds for the tide was rising. So they took the lot, and +Grange went over the side to make it possible. He hung on to a rope +for a time, but the seas were tremendous, and after a bit it parted. +He was washed up two hours ago. He had been in the water since three, +among the rocks. There wasn't the smallest chance of bringing him +back. He was long past any help we could give." + +He ended abruptly, and helped himself with a jerk to something in a +glass that Jim had placed by his side. + +Muriel stood dumbly watching. She noticed with an odd, detached sense +of curiosity that he was shivering violently as one with an ague. Dr. +Jim was already making swift preparations for departure. + +Suddenly Nick looked up at her. His eyes were glittering strangely. "I +know now," he said, "what you women feel like when you can only stand +and look on. We have been looking on--Daisy and I--just looking on, +for six mortal hours." He banged his fist with a sort of condensed +fury upon the table, and leapt to his feet. "Jim, are you ready? I +can't sit still any longer." + +"Finish that stuff, and don't be a fool!" ordered Jim curtly. + +Muriel turned swiftly towards him. "You'll take me with you!" she said +very earnestly. + +Nick broke in sharply upon the request. "No, no, Muriel! You're not to +go. Jim, you can't--you shan't--take her! I won't allow it!" + +But Muriel was clinging to Dr. Jim's arm with quivering face upraised. +"You will take me," she entreated. "I was able to help Daisy before. I +can help her now." + +But even before she spoke there flashed a swift glance between the two +brothers that foiled her appeal almost before it was uttered. With +a far greater gentleness than was customary with him, but with +unmistakable decision, Dr. Jim refused her petition. + +"I can't take you now, child. But if Daisy should ask for you, or +if there is anything under the sun that you can do for her, I will +promise to let you know." + +It was final, but she would not have it so. A sudden gust of anger +caught her, anger against the man for whose sake she had one night +shed so many bitter tears, whom now she so fierily hated. She still +clung to Jim. She was shaking all over. + +"What does it matter what Nick says?" she urged pantingly. "Why give +in to him at every turn? I won't be left behind--just because he +wishes it!" + +She would have said more. Her self-control was tottering; but Dr. Jim +restrained her. "My dear, it is not for Nick's sake," he said. "Come, +you are going to be sensible. Sit down and get your breath. There's +no time for hysterics. I must go across and speak to my wife before I +go." + +He looked at Nick who instantly responded. "Yes, you be off! I'll look +after her. Be quick, man, be quick!" + +But when Dr. Jim was gone, his impatience fell away from him. He +moved round the table and stood before her. He was steady enough now, +steadier far than she. + +"Don't take it too hard," he said. "At least he died like a man." + +She did not draw away from him. There was no room for fear in her +heart just then. It held only hatred--a fierce, consuming flame--that +enabled her to face him as she had never faced him before. + +"Why did you let him go?" she demanded of him, her voice deep and +passionate, her eyes unwaveringly upon him. "There must have been +others. You were there. Why didn't you stop him?" + +"I stop him!" said Nick, and a flash of something that was almost +humour crossed his face. "You seem to think I am omnipotent." + +Her eyes continued to challenge him. "You always manage to get your +own way somehow," she said very bitterly, "by fair means or foul. Are +you going to deny that it was you who made him write that letter?" + +He did not ask her what she meant. "No," he said with a promptitude +that took her by surprise. "I plead guilty to that. As you are aware, +I never approved of your engagement." + +His effrontery stung her into what was almost a state of frenzy. Her +eyes blazed their utmost scorn. She had never been less afraid of him +than at that moment. She had never hated him more intensely. + +"You could make him do a thing like that," she said. "And yet you +couldn't hold him back from certain death!" + +He answered her without heat, in a tone she deemed most hideously +callous. "It was not my business to hold him back. He was wanted. +There would have been no rescue but for him. They needed a man to lead +them, or they wouldn't have gone at all." + +His composure goaded her beyond all endurance. She scarcely waited for +him to finish, nor was she wholly responsible for what she said. + +"Was there only one man among you, then?" she asked, with headlong +contempt. + +He made her a curious, jerky bow. "One man--yes," he said. "The rest +were mere sheep, with the exception of one--who was a cripple." + +Her heart contracted suddenly with a pain that was physical. She felt +as if he had struck her, and it goaded her to a fiercer cruelty. + +"You knew he would never come back!" she declared her voice quivering +uncontrollably with the passion that shook her. "You--you never meant +him to come back!" + +He opened his eyes wide for a single instant, and she fancied that she +had touched him. It was the first time in her memory that she had ever +seen them fully. Instinctively she avoided them, as she would have +avoided a flash of lightning. + +And then he spoke, and she knew at once that her wild accusation had +in no way hurt him. "You think that, do you?" he said, and his tone +sounded to her as though he barely repressed a laugh. "Awfully nice of +you! I wonder what exactly you take me for." + +She did not keep him in suspense on that point. If she had never had +the strength to tell him before, she could tell him now. + +"I take you for a fiend!" she cried hysterically. "I take you for a +fiend!" + +He turned sharply from her, so sharply that she was conscious of a +moment's fear overmastering her madness. But instantly, with his back +to her, he spoke, and her brief misgiving was gone. + +"It doesn't matter much now what you take me for," he said, and again +in the cracked notes of his voice she seemed to hear the echo of a +laugh. "You won't need to seek any more protectors so far as I am +concerned. You will never see me again unless the gods ordain that +you should come and find me. It isn't the way of an eagle to swoop +twice--particularly an eagle with only one wing." + +The laugh was quite audible now, and she never saw how that one hand +of his was clenched and pressed against his side. He had reached the +door while he was speaking. Turning swiftly, he cast one flickering, +inscrutable glance towards her, and then with no gesture of farewell +was gone. She heard his receding footsteps die away while she +struggled dumbly to quell the tumult of her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +LOVE'S PRISONER + + +Late that evening a scribbled note reached Muriel from Dr. Jim. + +"You can do nothing whatever," he wrote. "Daisy is suffering from +a sharp attack of brain fever, caused by the shock of her cousin's +death, and I think it advisable that no one whom she knows should be +near her. You may rest assured that all that can be done for her will +be done. And, Muriel, I think you will be wise to go to Mrs. Langdale +as you originally intended. It will be better for you, as I think +you will probably realise. You shall be kept informed of Daisy's +condition, but I do not anticipate any immediate change." + +She was glad of those few words of advice. Her anxiety regarding +Daisy notwithstanding, she knew it would be a relief to her to go. The +strain of many days was telling upon her. She felt herself to be on +the verge of a break-down, and she longed unspeakably to escape. + +She went to her room early on her last night at Weir, but not in order +to rest the longer. She had something to do, something from which she +shrank with a strange reluctance, yet which for her peace of mind she +dared not leave neglected. + +It was thus she expressed it to herself as with trembling fingers she +opened the box that contained all her sacred personal treasures. + +It lay beneath them all, wrapped in tissue-paper, as it had passed +from his hand to hers, and for long she strove to bring herself to +slip the tiny packet unopened into an envelope and seal it down--yet +could not. + +At last--it was towards midnight--she yielded to the force that +compelled. Against her will she unfolded the shielding paper and held +that which it contained upon the palm of her hand. Burning rubies, +red as heart's blood, ardent as flame, flashed and glinted in the +lamp-light. "OMNIA VINCIT AMOR"--how the words scorched her memory! +And she had wondered once if they were true! + +She knew now! She knew now! He had forced her to realise it. He had +captured her, had kindled within her--by what magic she knew not--the +undying Against her will, in spite of her utmost resistance, he had +done this thing. Above and beyond and through her fiercest hatred, he +had conquered her quivering heart. He had let her go again, but not +till he had blasted her happiness for ever. None other could ever +dominate her as this man dominated. None other could ever kindle in +her--or ever quench--the torch that this man's hand had lighted. + +And this was Love--this hunger that could never be satisfied, this +craving which would not be stifled or ignored--Love triumphant, +invincible, immortal--the thing she had striven to slay at its +birth, but which had lived on in spite of her, growing, spreading, +enveloping, till she was lost, till she was suffocated, in its +immensity. There could never be any escape for her again. She was +fettered hand and foot. It was useless any longer to strive. She stood +and faced the truth. + +She did not ask herself how it was she had ever come to care. She only +numbly realised that she had always cared. And she knew now that to no +woman is it given so to hate as she had hated without the spur of Love +goading her thereto. Ah, but Love was cruel! + +Love was merciless! For she had never known--nor ever could know +now--the ecstasy of Love. Truly, it conquered; but it left its +prisoners to perish of starvation in the wilderness. + +A slight sound in the midnight silence! A timid hand softly trying +the door-handle! She sprang up, dropping the ring upon her table, and +turned to see Olga in her nightdress, standing in the doorway. + +"I was awake," the child explained tremulously. "And I heard you +moving. And I wondered, dear Muriel, if perhaps I could do anything to +help you. You--you don't mind?" + +Muriel opened her arms impulsively. She felt as if Olga had been sent +to lighten her darkest hour. + +For a while she held her close, not speaking at all; and it was Olga +who at last broke the silence. + +"Darling, are you crying for Captain Grange?" + +She raised her head then to meet the child's gaze of tearful sympathy. + +"I am not crying, dear," she said. "And--it wouldn't be for him if I +were. I don't want to cry for him. I just envy him, that's all." + +She leaned her head against Olga's shoulder, rocking a little to and +fro with closed eyes. "Yes," she said at last, "you can help me, Olga, +if you will. That ring on the table, dear,--a ring with rubies--do you +see it?" + +"Yes," breathed Olga, holding her very close. + +"Then just take it, dear." Muriel's voice was unutterably weary; she +seemed to speak with a great effort. "It belongs to Nick. He gave it +to me once, long ago, in remembrance of something. I want you to give +it back to him, and tell him simply that I prefer to forget." + +Olga took up the ring. Her lips were trembling. "Aren't you--aren't +you being nice to Nick any more, Muriel?" she asked in a whisper. + +Muriel did not answer. + +"Not when you promised?" the child urged piteously. + +There was silence. Muriel's face was hidden. Her black hair hung about +her like a cloud, veiling her from her friend's eyes. For a long time +she said nothing whatever. Then at last without moving she made reply. + +"It's no use, Olga. I can't! I can't! It's not my doing. It's his. +Oh, I think my heart is broken!" Through the anguish of weeping that +followed, Olga clasped her passionately close, frightened, by an +intensity of suffering such as she had never seen before and was +powerless to alleviate. + +She slept with Muriel that night, but, waking in the dawning, just +when Muriel had sunk to sleep, she crept out of bed and, with Nick's +ring grasped tightly in her hand, softly stole away. + + + + +PART V + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +THE VISION + + +A gorgeous sunset lay in dusky, fading crimson upon the Plains, +trailing to darkness in the east. The day had been hot and cloudless, +but a faint, chill wind had sprung up with the passing of the sun, +and it flitted hither and thither like a wandering spirit over the +darkening earth. + +Down in the native quarter a _tom-tom_ throbbed, persistent, +exasperating as the voice of conscience. Somewhere in the distance a +dog barked restlessly, at irregular intervals. And at a point between +_tom-tom_ and dog a couple of parrots screeched vociferously. + +Over all, the vast Indian night was rushing down on silent, mysterious +wings. Crimson merged to grey in the telling, and through the falling +dark there shone, detached and wonderful, a single star. + +In the little wooden bungalow over against, the water-works a light +had been kindled and gleamed out in a red streak across the Plain. +Other lights were beginning to flicker also from all points of the +compass, save only where a long strip of jungle lay like a blot upon +the face of the earth. But the red light burned the steadiest of them +all. + +It came from the shaded lamp of an Englishman, and beneath it with +stubborn, square-jawed determination the Englishman sat at work. + +Very steadily his hand moved over the white paper, and the face that +was bent above it never varied--a face that still possessed something +of the freshness of youth though the set of the lips was firm even to +sternness and the line of the chin was hard. He never raised his eyes +as he worked except to refer to the notebook at his elbow. The passage +of time seemed of no moment to him. + +Yet at the soft opening of the door, he did look up for an instant, a +gleam of expectancy upon his face that died immediately. + +"All right, Sammy, directly," he said, returning without pause to his +work. + +Sammy, butler, bearer, and general factotum, irreproachable from his +snowy turban to his white-slippered feet, did not take the hint +to retire, but stood motionless just inside the room, waiting with +statuesque patience till his master should deign to bestow upon him +the favour of his full attention. + +After a little Will Musgrave realised this, and with an abrupt sigh +sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his forehead. + +"Well?" he said then. "You needn't trouble to tell me that the mail +has passed, for I heard the fellow half an hour ago. Of course there +were no letters?" + +The man shook his head despondingly. "No letters, sahib." + +"Then what do you want?" asked Will, beginning to eye his work again. + +Sammy--so dubbed by Daisy long ago because his own name was too sore +a tax upon her memory--sent a look of gleaming entreaty across the +lamp-lit space that separated him from his master. + +"The dinner grows cold, sahib," he observed pathetically. + +Will smiled a little. "All right, my good Sammy. What does it matter? +I'm sure if I don't mind, you needn't. And I'm busy just now." + +But the Indian stood his ground. "What will my mem-sahib say to me," +he said, "when she comes and finds that my lord has been starved?" + +Will's face changed. It was a very open face, boyishly sincere. He did +not laugh at the earnest question. He only gravely shook his head. + +"The mem-sahib will come," the man declared, with conviction. "And +what will her servant say when she asks him why his master is so thin? +She will say, 'Sammy, I left him in your care. What have you done to +him?' And, sahib, what answer can her servant give?" + +Will clasped his hands at the back of his head in a careless attitude, +but his face was grim. "I don't think you need worry yourself, Sammy," +he said. "I am not expecting the mem-sahib--at present." + +Nevertheless, moved by the man's solicitude, he rose after a moment +and laid his work together. He might as well dine, he reflected, as +sit and argue about it. With a heavy step he passed into the room +where dinner awaited him, and sat down at the table. + +No, he was certainly not expecting her at present. He had even of late +begun to ask himself if he expected her at all. It was five months now +since the news of her severe illness had almost induced him to throw +everything aside and go to her. He had only been deterred from this +by a very serious letter from Dr. Jim, strongly advising him to remain +where he was, since it was highly improbable that he would be allowed +to see Daisy for weeks or even months were he at hand, and she would +most certainly be in no fit state to return with him to India. That +letter had been to Will as the passing knell of all he had ever hoped +or desired. Definitely it had told him very little, but he was +not lacking in perception, and he had read a distinct and wholly +unmistakable meaning behind the guarded, kindly sentences. And he knew +when he laid the letter down that in Dr. Jim's opinion his presence +might do incalculable harm. From that day forward he had entertained +no further idea of return, settling down again to his work with a +dogged patience that was very nearly allied to despair. + +He was undoubtedly a rising man. There were prospects of a speedy +improvement in his position. It was unlikely that he would be called +upon to spend another hot season in the scorching Plains. Steady +perseverance and indubitable talent had made their mark. But success +was dust and ashes to him now. He did not greatly care if he went or +stayed. + +That Daisy was well again, or on the high-road to recovery, he knew; +but he had not received a single letter from her since her illness. + +Jim's epistles were very few and far between, but Nick had maintained +a fairly regular correspondence with him till a few weeks back when it +had unaccountably lapsed. But then Nick had done unaccountable things +before, and he did not set down his silence to inconstancy. He was +probably making prodigious efforts on his behalf, and Will awaited +every mail with an eagerness he could not quite suppress, which turned +invariably, however, into a sick sense of disappointment. + +That Daisy would ever return to him now he did not for an instant +believe, but there remained the chance--the slender, infinitesimal +chance--that she might ask him to go to her. More than a flying visit +she would know he could not manage. His work was his living, and +hers. But so much Nick's powers of persuasion might one day accomplish +though he would not allow himself to contemplate the possibility, +while week by week the chance dwindled. + +So he sat alone and unexpectant at his dinner-table that night and +made heroic efforts to pacify the vigilant Sammy whose protest had +warmed his heart a little if it had not greatly assisted his appetite. + +He was glad when the meal was over, and he could saunter out on to +the verandah with his cigar. The night was splendid with stars; but it +held no moon. The wind had died away, but it had left a certain chill +behind; and somehow he was reminded of a certain evening of early +summer in England long ago, when he and Daisy had strolled together +in an English garden, and she had yielded impulsively to his earnest +wooing and had promised to be his wife. He remembered still the little +laugh half sweet, half bitter, with which she had surrendered, the +soft raillery of her blue eyes that yet had not wholly mocked him, the +dainty charm of her submission. She had not loved him. He had known it +even then. She had almost told him so. But with a boy's impetuosity he +had taken the little she had to give, trusting to the future to make +her all his own. + +Ah, well! He caught himself sighing, and found that his cigar was out. +With something less than his customary self-suppression he pitched it +forth into the darkness. He could not even smoke with any enjoyment. +He would go indoors and work. + +He swung round on his heel, and started back along the verandah +towards his room from which the red light streamed. Three strides he +took with his eyes upon the ground. Then for no reason that he knew he +glanced up towards that bar of light. The next instant he stood still +as one transfixed, and all the blood rushed in tumult to his heart. + +There, motionless in the full glare--watching him, waiting for +him--stood his wife! + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +THE HEART OF A MAN + + +She did not utter a single word or move to greet him. Even in that +ruddy light she was white to the lips. Her hands were fast gripped +together. She did not seem to breathe. + +So for full thirty seconds they faced one another, speechless, +spell-bound, while through the awful silence the cry of a jackal +sounded from afar, seeking its meat from God. + +Will was the first to move, feeling for his handkerchief mechanically +and wiping his forehead. Also he tried to speak aloud, but his voice +was gone. "Pull yourself together, you fool!" he whispered savagely. +"She'll be gone again directly." + +She caught the words apparently, for her attitude changed. She parted +her straining hands as though by great effort, and moved towards him. + +Out of the glare of the lamplight she looked more normal. She wore +a grey travelling-dress, but her hat was off. He fancied he saw the +sparkle of the starlight in her hair. + +She came towards him a few steps, and then she stopped. "Will," she +said, and her voice had a piteous tremble in it, "won't you speak to +me? Don't you--don't you know me?" + +Her voice awoke him, brought him down from the soaring heights of +imagination as it were with a thud. He strode forward and caught her +hands in his. + +"Good heavens, Daisy!" he said. "I thought I was dreaming! How on +earth--" + +And there he stopped dead, checked in mid career, for she was leaning +back from him, leaning back with all her strength that he might not +kiss her. + +He stood, still holding her hands, and looked at her. There was a +curious, choked sensation at his throat, as if he had swallowed ashes. +She had come back to him--she had come back to him indeed, but he had +a feeling that she was somehow beyond his reach, further away from him +in that moment of incredible reunion than she had ever been during all +the weary months of their separation. This woman with the pale face +and tragic eyes was a total stranger to him. Small wonder that he had +thought himself to be dreaming! + +With a furious effort he collected himself. He let her hands slip +from his. "Come in here," he said, forcing his dry throat to speech by +sheer strength of will. "You should have let me know." + +She went in without a word, and came to a stand before the table that +was littered with his work. She was agitated, he saw. Her hand was +pressed against her heart, and she seemed to breathe with difficulty. + +Instinctively he came to her aid with commonplace phrases--the first +that occurred to him. "How did you come? But no matter! Tell me +presently. You must have something to eat. You look dead beat. Sit +down, won't--" + +And there he stopped again, breaking off short to stare at her. In the +lighted room she had turned to face him, and he saw that her hair was +no longer golden but silvery white. + +Seeing his look, she began to speak in hurried, uneven sentences. "I +have been ill, you know. It--it was brain fever, Jim said. Hair--fair +hair particularly--does go like that sometimes." + +"You are well again?" he questioned. + +"Oh, quite--quite." There was something almost feverish in the +assertion; she was facing him with desperate resolution. "I have been +well for a long time. Please don't send for anything. I dined at the +dâk-bungalow an hour ago. I--I thought it best." + +Her agitation was increasing. She panted between each sentence. Will +turned aside, shut and bolted the window, and drew the blind. Then he +went close to her; he laid a steady hand upon her. + +"Sit down," he said, "and tell me what is the matter." + +She sank down mutely. Her mouth was quivering; she sought to hide it +from him with her hand. + +"Tell me," he said again, and quietly though he spoke there was in his +tone a certain mastery that had never asserted itself in the old days; +"What is it? Why have you come to me like this?" + +"I--haven't come to stay, Will," she said, her voice so low that it +was barely audible. + +His face changed. He looked suddenly dogged. "After twenty months!" he +said. + +She bent her head. "I know. It's half a lifetime--more. You have +learnt to do without me by this. At least--I hope you have--for your +own sake." + +He made no comment on the words; perhaps he did not hear them. After a +brief silence she heard his voice above her bowed head. "Something is +wrong. You'll tell me presently, won't you? But--really you needn't be +afraid." + +Something in the words--was it a hint of tenderness?--renewed her +failing strength. She commanded herself and raised her head. She +scarcely recognised in the steady, square-chinned man before her +the impulsive, round-faced boy she had left. There was something +unfathomable about him, a hint of greatness that affected her +strangely. + +"Yes," she said. "Something is wrong. It is what I am here for--what I +have come to tell you. And when it is over, I'm going away--I'm going +away--out of your life--for ever, this time." + +His jaw hardened, but he said nothing whatever. He stood waiting for +her to continue. + +She rose slowly to her feet though she was scarcely capable of +standing. She had come to the last ounce of her strength, but she +spent it bravely. + +"Will," she said, and though her voice shook uncontrollably every word +was clear, "I hardly know how to say it. You have always trusted me, +always been true to me. I think--once--you almost worshipped me. But +you'll never worship me any more, because--because--I am unworthy of +you. Do you understand? I was held back from the final wickedness, +or--or I shouldn't be here now. But the sin was there in my heart. +Heaven help me, it is there still. There! I have told you. It--was +your right. I don't ask for mercy or forgiveness. Only punish +me--punish me--and then--let me--go!" + +Voice and strength failed together. Her limbs doubled under her, +and she sank suddenly down at his feet, sobbing--terrible, painful, +tearless sobs that seemed to rend her very being. + +Without a word he stooped and lifted her. He was white to the lips, +but there was no hesitancy about him. He acted instantly and decidedly +as a man quite sure of himself. + +He carried her to the old _charpoy_ by the window and laid her down. + +Many minutes later, when her anguish had a little spent itself, she +realised that he was kneeling beside her, holding her pressed against +his heart. Through all the bitter chaos of her misery and her shame +there came to her the touch of his hand upon her head. + +It amazed her--it thrilled her, that touch of his; in a fashion it +awed her. She kept her face hidden from him; she could not look up. +But he did not seek to see her face. He only kept his hand upon her +throbbing temple till she grew still against his breast. + +Then at length, his voice slow and deep and very steady, he spoke. +"Daisy, we will never speak of this again." + +She gave a great start. Pity, even a certain measure of kindness, +she had almost begun to expect; but not this--not this! She made a +movement to draw herself away from him, but he would not suffer it. He +only held her closer. + +"Oh, don't, Will, don't!" she implored him brokenly. "For your own +sake--let me go!" + +"For my own sake, Daisy," he answered quietly,--"and for yours, since +you have come to me, I will never let you go again." + +"But you can't want me," she insisted piteously. "Don't be generous, +Will. I can't bear it. Anything but that! I would rather you cursed +me--indeed--indeed!" + +His hand restrained her, silenced her. "Hush!" he said. "You are my +wife. I love you, and I want you." + +Tears came to her then with a rush, blinding, burning, overwhelming, +and yet their very agony was relief to her. She made no further +effort to loosen his hold. She even feebly clung to him as one needing +support. + +"Ah, but I must tell you--I must tell you," she whispered at last. +"If--if you mean to forgive me, you must know--everything." + +"Tell me, if it helps you," he answered, and he spoke with the +splendid patience that twenty weary months had wrought in him. "Only +believe--before you begin--that I have forgiven you. For--before +God--it is the truth." + +And so presently, lying in his arms, her face hidden low on his +breast, she told him all, suppressing nothing, extenuating nothing, +simply pouring out the whole bitter story, sometimes halting, +sometimes incoherent, but never wavering in her purpose, till, like +an evil growth that yet clung about her palpitating heart, her sin lay +bare before him--the sin of a woman who had almost forgotten that Love +is a holy thing. + +He heard her to the end with scarcely a word, and when she had +finished he made one comment only. + +"And so you gave him up." + +She shivered with the pain of that memory. "Yes, I gave him up--I +gave him up. Nick had made me see the hopelessness of it all--the +wickedness. And he--he let me go. He saw it too--at least he +understood. And on that very night--oh, Will, that awful night--he +went to his death." + +His arms grew closer about her. "My poor girl!" he said. + +"Ah, but you shouldn't!" she sobbed. "You shouldn't! You ought to hate +me--to despise me." + +"Hush!" he said again. And she knew that with that one word he +resolutely turned his back upon the gulf that had opened between them +during those twenty months--that gulf that his love had been great +enough to bridge--and that he took her with him, bruised and broken +and storm-tossed as she was, into a very sheltered place. + +When presently he turned her face up to his own and gravely kissed her +she clung to his neck like a tired child, no longer fearing to meet +his look, only thankful for the comfort of his arms. + +For a while longer he held her silently, then very quietly he began +to question her about her journey. Had she told him that she had been +putting up at the dâk-bungalow? + +"Oh, only for a few hours," she answered. "We arrived this evening, +Nick and I." + +"Nick!" he said. "And you left him behind?" + +"He is waiting to take me back," she murmured, her face hidden against +his shoulder. + +Again, very tenderly, his hand pressed her forehead. "He must come to +us, eh, dear? I will sent the _khit_ down with a note presently. But +you are tired out, and must rest. Lie here while I go and tell Sammy +to make ready." + +It was when he came back to her that she began to see wherein lay the +change in him that had so struck her. + +From her cushions she looked up at him, piteously smiling. "How thin +you are, Will! And you are getting quite a scholarly stoop." + +"Ah, that's India," he said. + +But she knew that it was not India at all, and her face told him so, +though he affected not to see it. + +He bent over her. "Now, Daisy, I am going to carry you to bed as I +used--do you remember?--at Simla, after the baby came. Dear little +chap! Do you remember how he used to smile in his sleep?" + +His voice was hushed, as though he stood once more beside the tiny +cot. + +She sat up, yielding herself to his arms. "Oh, Will," she said, with a +great sob, "if only he had lived!" + +He held her closely, and lying against his breast she felt the sigh he +stifled. His lips were upon the silvered hair. + +"Perhaps--some day--Daisy," he said, under his breath. + +And she, clinging to him, whispered back through her tears, "Oh, +Will,--I do hope so." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + +IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP + + +It was very hot down on the buzzing race-course, almost intolerably +so in the opinion of the girl who sat in Lady Bassett's +elegantly-appointed carriage, and looked out with the indifference of +boredom upon the sweltering crowds. + +"Dear child, don't look so freezingly aloof!" she had been entreated +more than once; and each time the soft injunction had reached her the +wide dark eyes had taken to themselves a more utter disdain. + +If she looked freezing, she was far from feeling it, for the hot +weather was at its height, and Ghawalkhand, though healthy, was not +the coolest spot in the Indian Empire. Sir Reginald Bassett had been +appointed British Resident, to act as adviser to the young rajah +thereof, and there had been no question of a flitting to Simla that +year. Lady Bassett had deplored this, but Muriel rejoiced. She never +wanted to see Simla again. + +Life was a horrible emptiness to her in those days. She was weary +beyond expression, and had no heart for the gaieties in which she was +plunged. Idle compliments had never attracted her, and flirtations +were an abomination to her. She looked through and beyond them with +the eyes of a sphinx. But there were very few who suspected the +intolerable ache that throbbed unceasingly behind her impassivity--the +loneliness of spirit that oppressed her like a crushing, physical +weight. + +Even Bobby Fraser, who saw most things, could scarcely have been aware +of this; yet certainly it was not the vivacity of her conversation +that induced him to seek her out as he generally did when he saw +her sitting apart. A very cheery bachelor was Bobby Fraser, and a +tremendous favourite wherever he went. He was a wonderful organizer, +and he invariably had a hand in anything of an entertaining nature +that was going forward. + +He had just brought her tea, and was waiting beside her while she +drank it. Lady Bassett had left the carriage for the paddock, and +Muriel sat alone. + +Had she had anything on the last race, he wanted to know? Muriel had +not. He had, and was practically ruined in consequence--a calamity +which in no way seemed to affect his spirits. + +"Who would have expected a rank outsider like that to walk over the +course? Ought to have been disqualified for sheer cheek. Reminds me +of a chap I once knew--forget his name--Nick something or other--who +entered at the last minute for the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura. Did +it for a bet, they said. It's years ago now. The horse was a perfect +brute--all bone and no flesh--with a temper like the foul fiend and +no points whatever--looked a regular crock at starting. But he romped +home on three legs, notwithstanding, with his jockey clinging to him +like an inspired monkey. It was the only race he ever won. Every one +put it down to black magic or personal magnetism on the part of his +rider. Same thing, I believe. He was the sort of chap who always comes +out on top. Rum thing I can't remember his name. I had travelled out +with him on the same boat once too. Have some more tea." + +This was a specimen of most of Bobby Fraser's conversation. He was +brimful of anecdotes. They flowed as easily as water from a fountain. +Their source seemed inexhaustible. He never repeated himself to the +same person. + +Muriel declined his offer of more tea. For some reason she wanted to +hear more of the man who had won the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura. + +Bobby was more than willing to oblige. "Oh, it was sheer cheek that +carried him through, of course. I always said he was the cheekiest +beggar under the sun--quite a little chap he was, hideously ugly, +with a face like a baked apple, and eyes that made you think of a +cinematograph. You know the sort of thing. I used to think he had a +future before him, but he seems to have dropped out. He was only +about twenty when I had him for a stable-companion. I remember one +outrageous thing he did on the voyage out. There was card-playing +going on in the saloon one night, and he was looking on. One of the +lady-players--well, I suppose I may as well call it by its name--one +of them cheated. He detected it. Beastly position, of course. Don't +know what I should have done under the circumstances, but anyhow he +wasn't at a loss. He simply lighted a cigarette and set fire to the +lady's dress." + +Muriel's exclamation of horror was ample testimony to the fact that +her keenest interest was aroused. + +"Yes, awfully risky, wasn't it?" said Bobby. "We only thought at the +time he had been abominably careless. I did not hear the rights of the +case till afterwards, and then not from him. There was a fine flareup, +of course--card-table overturned--ladies in hysterics--in the middle +of the fray our gallant hero extinguishing the flames with his bare +hands. He was profusely apologetic and rather badly scorched. The lady +took very little harm, except to her nerves and her temper. She cut +him dead for the rest of the voyage, but I don't think it depressed +him much. He was the sort of fellow that never gets depressed. Hullo! +There's Mrs. Philpot making violent signs. I suppose I had better go +and see what she wants, or be dropped for evermore. Good-bye!" + +He smiled upon her and departed, leaving her thoughtful, with a +certain wistful wonder in her eyes. + +Lady Bassett's return interrupted her reverie. "You have had some tea, +I hope, dear? Ah, I thought Mr. Bobby Fraser was making his way in +this direction. So sweet of him not to forget you when he has so many +other calls upon his attention. And how are you faring for to-night? +Is your programme full yet? I have literally not one dance left." + +Lady Bassett had deemed it advisable to ignore the fact of Muriel's +brief engagement to Captain Grange since the girl's return to India. +She knew, as did her husband, that it had come to an end before +Grange's death, but she withheld all comment upon it. Her one desire +was to get the dear child married without delay, and she was +not backward in letting her know it. Life at Ghawalkhand was one +continuous round of gaiety, and she had every opportunity for +forwarding her scheme. Though she deplored Muriel's unresponsiveness, +she yet did not despair. It was sheer affectation on the girl's part, +she would tell herself, and would soon pass. And after all, that +queenly, aloof air had a charm that was all its own. It might not +attract the many, but she had begun to fancy of late that Bobby Fraser +had felt its influence. He was not in the least the sort of man +she would have expected to do so, but there was no accounting for +taste--masculine taste especially. And it would be an excellent thing +for Muriel. + +She was therefore being particularly gracious to her young charge just +then--a state of affairs which Muriel endured rather than appreciated. +She would never feel at her ease with Lady Bassett as long as she +lived. + +She was glad when they drove away at length, for she wanted to be +alone. Those anecdotes of Bobby's had affected her strangely. She had +felt so completely cut off of late from all things connected with the +past. No one ever mentioned Nick to her now--not even her faithful +correspondent Olga. Meteor-like, he had flashed through her sky and +disappeared; leaving a burning, ineradicable trail behind him, it is +true, but none the less was he gone. She had not the faintest idea +where he was. She would have given all she had to know, yet could not +bring herself to ask. It seemed highly improbable that he would ever +cross her path again, and she knew she ought to be glad of this; yet +no gladness ever warmed her heart. And now here was a man who had +known him, who had told her of exploits new to her knowledge yet how +strangely familiar to her understanding, who had at a touch brought +before her the weird personality that her imagination sometimes +strove in vain to summon. She could have sat and listened to Bobby's +reminiscences for hours. The bare mention of Nick's name had made her +blood run faster. + +Lady Bassett did not trouble her to converse during the drive back, +ascribing to her evident desire for silence a reason which Muriel was +too absent to suspect. But when the girl roused herself to throw a +couple of annas to an old beggar who was crouched against the entrance +to the Residency grounds she could not resist giving utterance to a +gentle expostulation. + +"I wish you would not encourage these people, dearest. They are so +extremely undesirable, and there is so much unrest in the State just +now that I cannot but regard them with anxiety." + +Muriel murmured an apology, with the inward reservation to bestow her +alms next time when Lady Bassett was not looking on. + +She found a letter lying on her table when she entered her room, +and took it up listlessly, without much interest. Her mind was +still running on those two anecdotes with which Bobby Fraser had so +successfully enlivened her boredom. The writing on the envelope was +vaguely familiar to her, but she did not associate it with anything +of importance. Absently she opened it, half reluctant to recall her +wandering thoughts. It came from a Hill station in Bengal, but that +told her nothing. She turned to the signature. + +The next instant she had turned back again to the beginning, and was +reading eagerly. Her correspondent was Will Musgrave. + + "Dear Miss Roscoe,"--ran the letter. "After long consideration + I have decided to write and beg of you a favour which I fancy + you will grant more readily than I venture to ask. My wife, as + you probably know, joined me some months ago. She is in very + indifferent health, and has expressed a most earnest wish to + see you. I believe there is something which she wishes to + tell you--something that weighs upon her heavily; and though + I trust that all will go well with her, I cannot help feeling + that she would stand a much better chance of this if only her + mind could be set at rest. I know I am asking a big thing + of you, for the journey is a ghastly one at this time of the + year, but if of your goodness you can bring yourself to face + it, I will myself meet you and escort you across the Plains. + Will you think the matter carefully over? And perhaps you + would wire a reply. + + "I have written without Daisy's knowledge, as she seems + to feel that she has forfeited the right to your + friendship.--Sincerely yours, + + "W. MUSGRAVE." + +Muriel's reply was despatched that evening, almost before she had +fully read the appeal. + +"Starting to-morrow," was all she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +THE HEALING OF THE BREACH + + +Lady Bassett considered the decision deplorably headlong, and said +so; but her remonstrances were of no avail. Muriel tossed aside her +listlessness as resolutely as the ball-dress that had been laid out +for the evening's festivity, and plunged at once into preparations for +her journey. She knew full well that it was of no actual importance +to Lady Bassett whether she went or stayed, and she did not pretend to +think otherwise. Moreover, no power on earth would have kept her away +from Daisy now that she knew herself to be wanted. + +Though more than half of the three days' journey lay across the +sweltering Plains, she contemplated it without anxiety, even with +rejoicing. At last, the breach, over which she had secretly mourned so +deeply, was to be healed. + +The next morning at an early hour she was upon her way. She looked +out as she drove through the gates for the old native beggar who had +crouched at the entrance on the previous afternoon. He was not there, +but a little way further she met him hobbling along to take up his +post for the day. From the folds of his chuddah his unkempt beard +wagged entreaty at the carriage as it passed. Impulsively, because of +the gladness that was so new to her lonely heart, she leaned from the +window and threw him a rupee. + +Looking back upon the journey later, she never remembered its tedium. +She was as one borne on the wings of love, and she scarcely noticed +the hardships of the way. + +Will Musgrave met her according to his promise at the great junction +in the Plains. She found him exceedingly solicitous for her welfare, +but so grave and silent that she hardly liked to question him. He +thanked her very earnestly for coming, said that Daisy was about the +same, and then left her almost exclusively to the society of her ayah. + +The heat in the Plains was terrific, but Muriel's courage never +wavered. She endured it with unfaltering resolution, hour after hour +reckoning the dwindling miles that lay before them, passing over +all personal discomfort as of no account, content only to be going +forward. + +But they left the Plains behind at last, and then came to the welcome +ascent to the Hill station through a country where pine-trees grew +ever more and more abundant. + +At length at the close of a splendid day they reached it, and as they +were nearing their destination Will broke through his silence. + +"She doesn't know even yet that you are coming," he said. "I thought +the suspense of waiting for you might be bad for her. Miss Roscoe--in +heaven's name--make her happy if you can!" + +There was such a passion of entreaty in his voice that Muriel was +deeply touched. She gave him her hand impulsively. + +"Mr. Musgrave," she said, "to this day I do not know what it was that +came between us, but I promise--I promise--that if any effort of mine +can remove it, it shall be removed to-night." + +Will Musgrave squeezed her fingers hard. "God bless you!" he said +earnestly. + +And with that he left her, and went on ahead to prepare Daisy for her +coming. + +All her life Muriel remembered Daisy's welcome of that evening with +a thrill of pain. They met at the gate of the little compound that +surrounded the bungalow Will had taken for his wife, and though the +light of the sinking sun smote with a certain ruddiness upon Daisy, +Muriel was unspeakably shocked by her appearance. + +Her white hair, her deathly pallor, the haunting misery of her +eyes--above all, her silence--went straight to the girl's heart. +Without a single word she gathered Daisy close in her warm young arms +and so held her in a long and speechless embrace. + +After all, it was Daisy who spoke first, gently drawing herself away. +"Come in, darling! You must be nearly dead after your awful journey. +I can't think how Will could ask it of you at this time of the year. I +couldn't myself." + +"I would have come to you from the world's end--and gladly," Muriel +answered, in her deep voice. "You know I would." + +And that was all that passed between them, for Will was present, and +Daisy had already begun to lead her guest into the house. + +As the evening wore on, Muriel was more and more struck by the great +change she saw in her. They had not met for ten months, but twice +as many years seemed to have passed over Daisy, crushing her beneath +their weight. All her old sprightliness had vanished utterly. She +spoke but little, and there was in her manner to her husband a wistful +humility, a submission so absolute, that Muriel, remembering her +ancient spirit, could have wept. + +Will looked at her as if he longed to say something when she bade him +good-night, but Daisy was beside her, and he could only give her a +tremendous handgrip. + +They went away together, and Daisy accompanied her to her room. But +the wall of reserve that had been built up between them was not to be +shattered at a touch. Neither of them knew exactly how to approach +it. There was no awkwardness between them, there was no lack of +tenderness, but the door that had closed so long ago was hard to +open. Daisy seemed to avoid it with a morbid dread, and it was not in +Muriel's power to make the first move. + +So for awhile they lingered together, talking commonplaces, and at +length parted for the night, holding each other closely, without +words. + +It seemed evident that Daisy could not bring herself to speak at +present, and Muriel went to bed with a heavy heart. + +She was far too weary to lie awake, but her tired brain would not +rest. For the first time in many dreary months she dreamed of Nick. + +He was jeering at her in devilish jubilation because she had changed +her mind about marrying him, but lacked the courage to tell him so. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX + +THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG + + +The night was very far advanced when Muriel was aroused from her +dreams by a sound which she drowsily fancied must have been going on +for some time. It did not disturb her very seriously at first; she +even subconsciously made an effort to ignore it. But at length a +sudden stab of understanding pierced her sleep-laden senses, and in a +moment she started up broad awake. Some one was in the room with her. +Through the dumb stillness before the dawn there came the sound of +bitter weeping. + +For a few seconds she sat motionless, startled, bewildered, half +afraid. The room was in nearly total darkness. Only in dimmest +outline could she discern the long French window that opened upon the +verandah. + +The weeping continued. It was half smothered, but it sounded agonised. +A great wave of compassion swept suddenly over Muriel. All in a moment +she understood. + +Swiftly she leaned forward into the darkness, feeling outwards till +her groping hands touched a figure that crouched beside the bed. + +"Daisy! Daisy, my darling!" she said, and there was anguish in her own +voice. "What is it?" + +In a second the sobbing ceased as if some magic had silenced it. +Two hands reached up out of the darkness and tightly clasped hers. A +broken voice whispered her name. + +"What is it?" Muriel repeated in growing distress. + +"Hush, dear, hush!" the trembling voice implored. "Don't let Will +hear! It worries him so." + +"But, my darling,--" Muriel protested. + +She began to feel for some matches, but again the nervous hands caught +and imprisoned hers. + +"Don't--please!" Daisy begged her earnestly. "I--I have something to +tell you--something that will shock you unutterably. And I--I don't +want you to see my face." + +She resisted Muriel's attempt to put her arms about her. "No--no, +dear! Hear me first. There! Let me kneel beside you. It will not +take me long. It isn't just for my own sake I am going to speak, +nor yet--entirely--for yours. You will see presently. Don't ask me +anything--please--till I have done. And then if--if there is anything +you want to know, I will try to tell you." + +"Come and lie beside me," Muriel urged. + +But Daisy would not. She had sunk very low beside the bed. For a while +she crouched there in silence while she summoned her strength. + +Then, "Oh, Muriel," she suddenly said, and the words seemed to burst +from her with a great sigh, "I wonder if you ever really loved Blake." + +"No, dear, I never did." Muriel's answer came quiet and sincere +through the darkness. "Nor did he love me. Our engagement was a +mistake. I was going to tell him so--if things had been different." + +"I never thought you cared for him," Daisy said. "But oh, Muriel, +I did. I loved him with my whole soul. No, don't start! It is over +now--at least that part of it that was sinful. I only tell you of +it because it is the key to everything that must have puzzled you +so horribly all this time. We always loved each other from the very +beginning, but our people wouldn't hear of it because we were cousins. +And so we separated and I used to think that I had put it away from +me. But--last summer--it all came back. You mustn't blame him, Muriel. +Blame me--blame me!" The thin hands tightened convulsively. "It was +when my baby died that I began to give way. We never meant it--either +of us--but we didn't fight hard enough. And then at last--at +Brethaven--Nick found it out; and it was because he knew that Blake's +heart was not in his compact with you that he made him write to you +and break it off. It was not for his own ends at all that he did it. +It was for your sake alone. He even swore to Blake that if he would +put an end to his engagement, he on his part would give up all idea +of winning you and would never trouble you any more. And that was the +finest thing he ever did, Muriel, for he never loved any one but you. +Surely you know it. You must know it by this time. You have never +understood him, but you must have begun to realise that he has loved +you well enough to set your happiness and well-being always far, far +before his own." + +Daisy paused. Her weeping had wholly ceased, but she was shivering +from head to foot. + +Muriel sat in silence above her, watching wide-eyed, unseeing, +the vague hint of light at the open window. She was beginning to +understand many things--ah, many things--that had been as a sealed +book to her till then. + +After a time Daisy went on. "No one will ever know what Nick was to me +at that time, how he showed me the wickedness of it all, how he held +me back from taking the final step, making me realise--even against +my will--that Love--true Love--is holy, conquering all evil. And +afterwards--afterwards--when Blake was gone--he stood by me and helped +me to live, and brought me back at last to my husband. I could never +have done it alone. I hadn't the strength. You see"--the low voice +faltered suddenly--"I never expected Will to forgive me. I never asked +it of him--any more than I am asking it of you." + +"Oh, my darling, there is no need!" Muriel turned suddenly to throw +impetuous arms about the huddled figure at her side. "Daisy! Daisy! I +love you. Let us forget there has ever been this thing between us. Let +us be as we used to be, and never drift apart again." + +Tenderly but insistently, she lifted Daisy to the bed beside her, +holding her fast. The wall between them was broken down at last. They +clung together as sisters long parted. + +Daisy, spent by the violence of her emotion, lay for a long time in +Muriel's arms without attempting anything further. But at length with +a palpable effort she began to speak of other things. + +"You know, I have a feeling--perhaps it is morbid--that I am not going +to live. I am sure Will thinks so too. If I die, Muriel,--three months +from now--you and Nick must help him all you can." + +"You are not going to die," Muriel asserted vehemently. "You are not +to talk of dying, or think of it. Oh, Daisy, can't you look forward to +the better time that is coming--when you will have something to live +for? And won't you try to think more of Will? It would break his heart +to lose you." + +"I do think of him," Daisy said wearily. "I would do anything to make +him happier. But I can't look forward. I am so tired--so tired." + +"You will feel differently by-and-by," Muriel whispered. + +"Perhaps," she assented. "I don't know. I don't feel as if I shall +ever hold another child in my arms. God knows I don't deserve it." + +"Do you think He looks at it in that way?" murmured Muriel, her arms +tightening. "There wouldn't be much in life for any of us if He did." + +"I don't know," Daisy said again. + +She lay quiet for a little as though pondering something. Then at +length hesitatingly she spoke. "Muriel, there is one thing that +whether I live or whether I die I want with my whole heart. May I tell +you what it is?" + +"Of course, dear. What is it?" + +Daisy turned in her arms, holding her in a clasp that was passionate. +"My darling," she whispered very earnestly, "I would give all I have +in the world to know you happy with--with the man you love." + +Silence followed the words. Muriel had become suddenly quite still; +her head was bent. + +"Don't--don't bar me out of your confidence," Daisy implored +her tremulously. "There is so little left for me to do now. +Muriel--dearest--you do love him?" + +Muriel moved impulsively, hiding her face in her friend's neck. But +she said no word in answer. + +Daisy went on softly, as though she had spoken. "He is still waiting +for you. I think he will wait all his life, though he will never come +to you again unless you call him. Won't you--can't you--send him just +one little word?" + +"How can I?" The words broke suddenly from Muriel as though she could +no longer restrain them. "How can I possibly?" + +"It could be done," Daisy said. "I know he is still somewhere in India +though he has left the Army. We could get a message to him at any +time." + +"Oh, but I couldn't--I couldn't!" Muriel had begun to tremble +violently. There was a sound of tears in her deep voice. "Besides--he +wouldn't come." + +"My dear, he would," Daisy assured her. "He would come to you directly +if he only knew that you wanted him. Muriel, surely you are not--not +too proud to let him know!" + +"Proud! Oh, no, no!" There was almost a moan in the words. Muriel's +head sank a little lower. "Heaven knows I'm not proud," she said. +"I am ashamed--miserably ashamed. I have trampled on his love so +often--so often. How could I ask him for it--now?" + +"Ah, but if he came to you," Daisy persisted, "if in spite of all he +came to you, you wouldn't send him away?" + +"Send him away!" A sudden note of passion thrilled in Muriel's voice. +She lifted her head sharply. With the tears upon her cheeks she yet +spoke with a certain exultation. "I--I would follow him barefoot +across the world," she said, "if--if he would only lift one finger +to call me. But oh, Daisy,"--her confidence vanished at a +breath--"where's the use of talking? He never, never will." + +"He will if you let him know," Daisy answered with conviction. "Don't +you think you can, dear? Give me just one word for him--one tiny +message that he will understand. Only trust him this once--just this +once! Give him his opportunity--he has never had one before, poor +boy--and I know, I know, he will not throw it away." + +"You don't think he will--laugh?" Muriel whispered. + +"My dear child, no! Nick doesn't laugh at sacred things." + +Muriel's face was burning in the darkness. She covered it with her +hands as though it could be seen. + +For a few seconds she sat very still. Then slowly but steadily she +spoke. + +"Tell him then, Daisy, from me, that 'Love conquers all things--and we +must yield to Love.'" + + + + +CHAPTER L + +EREBUS + + +Not another word passed between Daisy and Muriel upon the subject of +that night's confidences. There seemed nothing further to be said. +Moreover, there was between them a closer understanding than words +could compass. + +The days that followed passed very peacefully, and Daisy began to +improve so marvellously in health and spirits that both her +husband and her guest caught at times fleeting glimpses of the old +light-hearted personality that they had loved in earlier days. + +"You have done wonders for my wife," Will said one day to Muriel. And +though she disclaimed all credit, she could not fail to see a very +marked improvement. + +She herself was feeling unaccountably happy in those days, as though +somewhere deep down in her heart a bird had begun to sing. Again and +again she told herself that she had no cause for gladness; but again +and yet again that sweet, elusive music filled her soul. + +She would have gladly stayed on with Daisy, seeing how the latter +clung to her, for an indefinite period; but this was not to be. + +Daisy came out on to the verandah one morning with a letter in her +hand. + +"My dear," she said, "I regret to say that, I must part with you. +I have had a most touching epistle from Lady Bassett, describing at +length your many wasted opportunities, and urging me to return you to +the fold with all speed. It seems there is to be a State Ball at the +palace--an immense affair to which the Rajah is inviting all the big +guns for miles around--and Lady Bassett thinks that her dear child +ought not to miss such a gorgeous occasion. She seems to think that +something of importance depends upon it, and hints that I should be +almost criminally selfish to deprive you of such a treat as this will +be." + +Muriel lifted a flushed face from a letter of her own. "I have heard +from Sir Reginald," she said. "Evidently she has made him write. I +can't think why, for she never wants me when I am with her. I don't +see why I should go, do you? After all, I am of age and independent." + +A very tender smile touched Daisy's lips. "I think you had better go, +darling," she said. + +Muriel opened her eyes wide. "But why--" + +Daisy checked the question half uttered. "I think it will be better +for you. I never meant to let you stay till the rains, so it makes +little more than a week's difference. It sounds as if I want to be +rid of you, doesn't it? But you know it isn't that. I shall miss you +horribly, but you have done what you came to do, and I shall get on +all right now. So I am not going to keep you with me any longer. My +reasons are not Lady Bassett's reasons, but all the same it would be +selfish of me to let you stay. Later on perhaps--in the winter--you +will come and make a long stay; spend Christmas with us, and we will +have some real fun, shall we, Will?" turning to her husband who had +just appeared. + +He stared for an instant as if he thought he had not heard aright, and +there was to Muriel something infinitely pathetic in the way his brown +hand touched his wife's shoulder as he passed her and made reply. + +"Oh, rather!" he said. "We'll have a regular jollification with as +many old friends as we can collect. Don't forget, Miss Roscoe! You are +booked first and foremost, and we shall keep you to it, Daisy and I." + +Two days later Muriel was on her way back to Ghawalkhand. She found +the heat of the journey almost insupportable. The Plains lay under a +burning pall of cloud, and at night the rolling thunder was incessant. +But no rain fell to ease the smothering oppression of the atmosphere. + +She almost fainted one evening, but Will was with her and she never +forgot his kindly ministrations. + +A few hours' journey from Ghawalkhand Sir Reginald himself met her, +and here she parted with Will with renewed promises of a future +meeting towards the end of the year. + +Sir Reginald fussed over her kind-heartedly, hoped she had enjoyed +herself, thought she looked very thin, and declared that his wife was +looking forward with much pleasure to her return. The State was +still somewhat unsettled, there had been one or two outrages of late, +nothing serious, of course, but the native element was restless, and +he fancied Lady Bassett was nervous. + +She was away at a polo-match when they arrived, and Muriel profited by +her absence and went straight to bed. + +She could have slept for hours had she been permitted to do so, but +Lady Bassett, returning, awoke her to receive her welcome. She was +charmed to have her back, she declared, though shocked to see her +looking so wan, "so almost plain, dear child, if one may take the +liberty of an old friend to tell you so." + +Neither the crooked smile that accompanied this gentle criticism +nor the decidedly grim laugh with which it was received, was of a +particularly friendly nature; but these facts were not extraordinary. +There had never been the smallest hint of sympathy between them. + +"I trust you will be looking much better than this two nights hence," +Lady Bassett proceeded in her soft accents. "The Rajah's ball is to +be very magnificent, quite dazzlingly so from all accounts. Mr. +Bobby Fraser is of course behind the scenes, and he tells me that the +preparations in progress are simply gigantic. By the way, dear, it is +to be hoped that your absence has not damaged your prospects in +that quarter. I have been afraid lately that he was transferring his +allegiance to the second Egerton girl. I hope earnestly that there is +nothing in it, for you know how I have your happiness at heart, do you +not? And it would be such an excellent thing for you, dear child, as +I expect you realise. For you know, you look so much older than +you actually are that you really ought not to throw away any more +opportunities. Every girl thinks she must have her fling, but you, +dear, should soberly think of getting settled soon. You would not like +to get left, I feel sure." + +At this point Muriel sat up suddenly, her dark eyes very bright, and +in brief tones announced that so far as she was concerned the second +Egerton girl was more than welcome to Mr. Fraser and she hoped, if she +wanted him, she would manage to keep him. + +It was crudely expressed, as Lady Bassett pointed out with a sigh for +her waywardness; but Muriel always was crude when her deeper feelings +were disturbed, and physical fatigue had made her irritable. + +She wished ardently that Lady Bassett would leave her, but Lady +Bassett had not quite done. She lingered to ask for news of poor +little Daisy Musgrave. Had she yet fully recovered from the shock of +her cousin's tragic death? Could she bear to speak of him? She, +Lady Bassett, had always suspected the existence of an unfortunate +attachment between them. + +Muriel had no information to bestow upon the subject. She hoped and +believed that Daisy was getting stronger, and had promised, all being +well, to spend Christmas with her. + +Lady Bassett shook her head over this declaration. The dear child +was so headlong. Much might happen before Christmas. And what of +Mr. Ratcliffe--this was on her way to the door--had she heard the +extraordinary, the really astounding news concerning him that had just +reached Lady Bassett's ears? She asked because he and Mrs. Musgrave +used to be such friends, though to be sure Mr. Ratcliffe seemed to +have thrown off all his old friends of late. Had Muriel actually not +heard? + +"Heard! Heard what?" Muriel forced out the question from between +lips that were white and stiff. She was suddenly afraid--horribly, +unspeakably afraid. But she kept her eyes unflinchingly upon Lady +Bassett's face. She would sooner die than quail in her presence. + +Lady Bassett, holding the door-handle, looked back at her, faintly +smiling. "I wonder you have not heard, dear. I thought you were in +correspondence with his people. But perhaps they also are in the dark. +It is a most unheard-of thing--quite irrevocable I am told. But I +always felt that he was a man to do unusual things. There was always +to my mind something uncanny, abnormal, something almost superhuman, +about him." + +"But what has happened to him?" Muriel did not know how she uttered +the words; they seemed to come without her own volition. She was +conscious of a choking sensation within her as though iron bands +were tightening about her heart. It beat in leaps and bounds like a +tortured thing striving to escape. But through it all she sat quite +motionless, her eyes fixed upon Lady Bassett's face, noting its faint, +wry smile, as the eyes of a prisoner on the rack might note the grim +lines on the face of the torturer. + +"My dear," Lady Bassett said, "he has gone into a Buddhist monastery +in Tibet." + +Calmly the words fell through smiling lips. Only words! Only words! +But with how deadly a thrust they pierced the heart of the woman +who heard them none but herself would ever know. She gave no sign of +suffering. She only stared wide-eyed before her as an image, devoid of +expression, inanimate, sphinx-like, while that awful constriction grew +straiter round her heart. + +Lady Bassett was already turning to go when the deep voice arrested +her. + +"Who told you this?" + +She looked back, holding the open door. "I scarcely know who first +mentioned it. I have heard it from so many people,--in fact the news +is general property--Captain Gresham of the Guides told me for one. He +has just gone back to Peshawur. The news reached him, I believe, from +there. Then there was Colonel Cathcart for another. He was talking of +it only this afternoon at the Club, saying what a deplorable example +it was for an Englishman to set. He and Mr. Bobby Fraser had quite a +hot argument about it. Mr. Fraser has such advanced ideas, but I must +admit that I rather admire the staunch way in which he defends them. +There, dear child! You must not keep me gossiping any longer. You look +positively haggard. I earnestly hope a good sleep will restore you, +for I cannot possibly take that wan face to the Rajah's ball'." + +Lady Bassett departed with the words, shaking her head tolerantly and +still smiling. + +But for long after she had gone, Muriel remained with fixed eyes and +tense muscles, watching, watching, dumbly, immovably, despairingly, at +the locked door of her paradise. + +So this was the key to his silence--the reason that her message had +gone unanswered. She had stretched out her hands to him too late--too +late. + +And ever through the barren desert of her vigil a man's voice, vital +and passionate, rang and echoed in a maddening, perpetual refrain. + +"All your life you will remember that I was once yours to take or to +throw away. And--you wanted me, yet--you chose to throw me away." + +It was a refrain she had heard often and often before; but it had +never tortured her as it tortured her now,--now when her last hope was +finally quenched--now when at last she fully realised what it was that +had once been hers, and that in her tragic blindness she had wantonly +cast away. + + + + +CHAPTER LI + +THE BIRD OF PARADISE + + +Muriel did not leave the Residency again until the evening of the +State Ball at the palace. Scarcely did she leave her room, pleading +intense fatigue as her excuse for this seclusion. But she could not +without exciting remark, absent herself from the great function for +which ostensibly she had returned to Ghawalkhand. + +She wore a dress of unrelieved white for the occasion, for she had +but recently discarded her mourning for her father, and her face was +almost as devoid of colour. Her dark hair lay in a shadowy mass above +her forehead, accentuating her pallor. Her eyes looked out upon the +world with tragic indifference, unexpectant, apathetic. + +"My dear, you don't look well," said Sir Reginald, as, gorgeous in +his glittering uniform, he stood to hand her after his wife into the +carriage. + +She smiled a little. "It is nothing. I am still rather tired, that's +all." + +Driving through the gates she looked forth absently and spied the old +beggar crouching in his accustomed place. He almost prostrated himself +at sight of her, but she had no money with her, nor could she have +bestowed any under Lady Bassett's disapproving eye. The carriage +rolled on, leaving his obsequiousness unrequited. + +Entering the glittering ballroom all hung with glowing colours was +like entering a garden of splendid flowers. European and Indian +costumes were mingled in shining confusion. A hubbub of music and +laughter seemed to engulf them like a rushing torrent. + +"Ah, here you are at last!" It was Bobby Fraser's voice at Muriel's +side. He looked at her with cheery approval. "I say, you know, you're +the queen of this gathering. Pity there isn't a king anywhere about. +Perhaps there is, eh? Well, can you give me a dance? Afraid I haven't +a waltz left. No matter! We can sit out. I know a cosy corner exactly +fitted to my tastes. In fact I've booked it for the evening. And I +want a talk with you badly. Number five then. Good-bye!" + +He was gone, leaving Muriel with the curious impression that there +really was something of importance that he wished to say to her. + +She wondered what it was. That he was paying her serious attention she +had never for a moment believed, nor had she given him the faintest +encouragement to do so. She knew that Lady Bassett thought otherwise, +but she had never rated her opinion very highly; and she had never +read anything but the most casual friendliness in Bobby's attitude. + +Still it disturbed her somewhat, that hint of intimacy that his words +portended, and she awaited the dance he had solicited in a state of +mind very nearly allied to apprehension. Lady Bassett's suggestions +had done for her what no self-consciousness would ever have +accomplished unaided. They had implanted within her a deep-rooted +misgiving before which all ease of manner fled. + +When Bobby Fraser joined her, she was so plainly nervous that he could +not fail to remark it. He led her to a quiet corner above the garden +that was sheltered from the throng by flowering tamarisks. + +"I say," he said, "I hope you are not letting yourself get scared +by these infernal budmashes. The reports have all been immensely +exaggerated as usual." + +"I am not at all scared," she told him. "But wasn't there an +Englishman murdered the other day?" + +"Oh, yes," he admitted, "but miles and miles away, right the other +side of the State. There was nothing in that to alarm any one here. +It might have happened anywhere. People are such fools," he threw in +vindictively. "Begin to look askance at the native population, and +of course they are on the _qui vive_ instantly. It is only to be +expected. It was downright madness to send a Resident here. They +resent it, you know. But the Rajah's influence is enormous. Nothing +could happen here." + +"I wonder," said Muriel. + +She had scarcely given the matter a thought before, but it was a +relief to find some impersonal topic for discussion. + +Bobby, however, had no intention of pursuing it further. "Oh, it's +self-evident," he said. "They are loyal to the Rajah, and the Rajah +is well-known to be loyal to the Crown. It's only these duffers of +administrators that make the mischief." He broke into an abrupt laugh, +and changed the subject. "Let us talk of something less exasperating. +How did you get on while you were away? You must have found the +journey across the Plains pretty ghastly." + +She told him a little about it, incidentally mentioning Will Musgrave. + +"Oh, I know him," he broke in. "An engineer, isn't he? Awfully clever +chap. I met him years ago at Sharapura the time Nick Ratcliffe won the +Great Mogul's Cup. I told you that story, didn't I?" + +Yes, he had done so. She informed him of the fact with an immovable +face. It might have been a subject of total indifference to her. + +"You know Nick Ratcliffe, don't you?" he pursued, evidently following +his own train of thought. + +She flushed at the direct question. She had not expected it. "It is +a very long time since I last saw him," she said, with a deliberate +effort to banish all interest from her voice. + +He was not looking at her. He could not have been aware of the flush. +Yet he elected to push the matter further. + +"A queer fish," he said. "A very queer fish. He has lost his left arm, +poor beggar. Did you know?" + +Yes, she knew; but she could hardly summon the strength to tell him +so. Her fan concealed her quivering lips, but the hand that held it +shook uncontrollably. + +But he, still casual, continued his desultory harangue. "Always +reminds one of a jack-in-the-box--that fellow. Has a knack of popping +up when you least expect him. You never know what he will do next. You +can only judge him by the things he doesn't do. For instance, there's +been a rumour floating about lately that he has just gone into a +Tibetan monastery. Heaven knows who started it and why. But it is +absolutely untrue. It is the sort of thing that couldn't be true of a +man of his temperament. Don't you agree with me? Or perhaps you didn't +know him very well, and don't feel qualified to judge." + +At this point he pulled out his programme and studied it frowningly. +He was plainly not paying much attention to her reply. He seemed to be +contemplating something that worried him. + +It made it all the easier for her to answer. "No," she said slowly. "I +didn't know him very well. But--that rumour was told to me as absolute +fact. I--of course--I believed it." + +She knew that her face was burning as she ended. She could feel the +blood surging through every vein. + +"If you want to know what I think," said Bobby Fraser deliberately, +"it is that that rumour was a malicious invention of some one's." + +"Oh, do you?" she said. "But--but why?" + +He turned and looked at her. His usually merry face was stern. +"Because," he said, "it served some one's end to make some one else +believe that Nick had dropped out for good." + +Her eyes fell under his direct look. "I don't understand," she +murmured desperately. + +"Nor do I," he rejoined, "for certain. I can only surmise. It doesn't +do to believe things too readily. One gets let in that way." He rose +and offered her his arm. "Come outside for a little. This place is too +warm for comfort." + +She went with him willingly, thankful to turn her face to the night. A +dozen questions hovered on her lips, but she could not ask him one +of them. She could only walk beside him and profess to listen to +the stream of anecdotes which he began to pour forth for her +entertainment. + +She did not actually hear one of them. They came to her all jumbled +and confused through such a torrent of gladness as surely she had +never known before. For the bird in her heart had lifted its head +again, and was singing its rapture to the stars. + + + + +CHAPTER LII + +A WOMAN'S OFFERING + + +Looking back upon the hours that followed that talk with Bobby behind +the tamarisks, Muriel could never recall in detail how they passed. +She moved in a whirl, all her pulses racing, all her senses on the +alert. None of her partners had ever seen her gay before, but she was +gay that night with a spontaneous and wonderful gaiety that came from +the very heart of her. It was not a gaiety that manifested itself in +words, but it was none the less apparent to those about her. For her +eyes shone as though they looked into a radiant future, and she danced +as one inspired. She was like a statue waked to splendid life. + +Swiftly the hours flew by. She scarcely noted their passage, any more +than she noted the careless talk and laughter that hummed around her. +She moved in an atmosphere of her own to a melody that none other +heard. + +The ball was wearing to a close when at length Lady Bassett summoned +her to return. Lady Bassett was wearing her most gracious smile. + +"You have been much admired to-night, dear child," she murmured to the +girl, as they passed into the cloakroom. + +Muriel's eyes looked disdainful for an instant, but they could not +remain so. As swiftly the happiness flashed back into them. + +"I have enjoyed myself," she said simply. + +She threw a gauzy scarf about her neck, and turned to go. She did not +want her evening spoilt by criticisms however honeyed. + +The great marble entrance was crowded with departing guests. She edged +her way to one of the pillars at the head of the long flight of steps, +watching party after party descend to the waiting carriages. The +dancing had not yet ceased, and strains of waltz-music came to her +where she stood, fitful, alluring, plaintive. They were playing "The +Blue Danube." + +She listened to it as one in a dream, and while she listened the tears +gathered in her eyes. How was it she had been so slow to understand? +Would she ever make it up to him? She wondered how long he meant to +keep her in suspense. It was not like him to linger thus if he had +indeed received her message. She hoped he would come soon. The waiting +was hard to bear. + +She called to mind once more the last words he had spoken to her. +He had said that he would not swoop a second time, but she could +not imagine him doing anything else. He would be sudden, he would be +disconcerting, he would be overwhelming. He would come on winged feet +in answer to her call, but he would give her no quarter. He would +neither ask nor demand. He would simply take. + +She caught her breath and hastened to divert her thought, +realising that she was on the verge of the old torturing process of +self-intimidation which had so often before unnerved her. + +The throng about her had lessened considerably. Glancing downwards, +she discerned at the foot of the steps the old beggar who so +persistently haunted the Residency gates, incurring thereby Lady +Bassett's alarmed displeasure. He was crouching well to one side in +the familiar attitude of supplication. There were dozens like him in +Ghawalkhand, but she knew him by the peculiar, gibbering movement of +the wiry beard that protruded from his chuddah. He was repulsive, but +in a fashion fascinating. He made her think of a wizened old monkey +who had wandered from his kind. + +She had come to regard him almost in the light of a protege, and, +remembering suddenly that he had besought an alms of her in vain some +hours before, she turned impulsively to a man she knew who had just +come up. + +"Colonel Cathcart, will you lend me a rupee?" + +He dived in his pocket and brought out a handful of money. She found +the coin she wanted, thanked him with a smile, and began to descend +the steps. + +The old native was not looking at her. Something else seemed to have +caught his attention. For the moment he had ceased to cringe and +implore. + +She heard Sir Reginald's voice above her. He was standing in talk with +the Rajah while he waited for his wife. + +And then--she was half-way down the steps when it happened--a sudden +loud cry rang fiercely up to her, arresting her where she stood--a +man's voice inarticulate at first, bursting from mere sound into +furious headlong denunciation. + +"You infernal hound!" it cried. "You damned assassin!" + +At the same instant the old beggar at the foot of the palace steps +sprang panther-like from his crouching position to hurl himself bodily +at something that skulked in the shadows beyond him. + +The marvellous agility of the action, the unerring precision with +which he pounced upon his prey, above all, the voice that had yelled +in execration, sent such a stab of amazed recognition through Muriel +that she stood for a second as one petrified. + +But the next instant all her senses were pricked into alertness by a +revolver-shot. Another came, and yet another. They were fighting below +like tigers--two men in native dress, swaying, straining, struggling, +not three yards from where she stood. + +She never fully remembered afterwards how she came to realise that +Nick--Nick himself--was there before her in the flesh, fighting like +a demon, fighting as she had seen him fight once long ago when every +nerve in her body had been strung to agonised repulsion. + +She felt no repulsion now--no shrinking of any sort, only a wild +anguish of fear for his sake that drove her like a mad creature down +the intervening steps, that sent her flashing between him and his +adversary, that inspired her to wrench away the smoking revolver from +the murderous hand that gripped it. + +She went through those awful moments as a woman possessed, blindly +obeying the compelling force, goaded by sheer, primaeval instinct to +protect her own. It was but a conflict of seconds, but while it lasted +she was untrammelled by any doubts or hesitations. She was sublimely +sure of herself. She was superbly unafraid. + +When it was over, when men crowded round and dragged her enemy back, +when the pressing need was past, her courage fell from her like a +mantle. She sank down upon the steps, a trembling, hysterical woman, +and began to cry. + +Some one bent over her, some one whispered soothing words, some one +drew the revolver out of her weak grasp. Looking up, she saw the old +native beggar upon whom she had thought to bestow her charity. + +"Oh, Nick!" she gasped. "Nick!" And there stopped in sudden misgiving. +Was this grotesque figure indeed Nick? Could it be--this man who had +sat at the Residency gates for weeks, this man to whom she had so +often tossed an alms? + +Her brain had begun to reel, but she clung to the central idea, as one +in deep waters clinging to a spar. + +"Speak to me!" she entreated. "Only speak to me!" + +But before he could answer, Bobby Fraser pushed suddenly forward, +bent over, lifted her. "You are not hurt, Miss Roscoe?" he questioned +anxiously, deep concern on his kindly face. "The damned swine didn't +touch you? There! Come back into the palace. You're the bravest girl I +ever met." + +He began to help her up the steps, but though she was spent and near +to fainting she resisted him. + +"That man--" she faltered. "Don't--don't let him go!" + +"Certainly not," said Bobby promptly. "Here, you old scarecrow, come +and lend a hand!" + +But the old scarecrow apparently had other plans for himself, for he +had already vanished from the scene as swiftly and noiselessly as a +shadow from a sheet. + +"He is gone!" wailed Muriel. "He is gone! Oh, why did you let him go?" + +"He'll turn up again," said Bobby consolingly. "That sort of chap +always does. I say, how ghastly you look! Take my arm! You are not +going to faint, are you? Ah, here is Colonel Cathcart! Miss Roscoe +isn't hurt, sir--only upset. Can't we get her back to the palace?" + +They bore her back between them, and left her to be tended by the +women. She was not unconscious, but the shock had utterly unstrung +her. She lay with closed eyes, listening vaguely to the buzz of +excited comment about her, and wondering, wondering with an aching +heart, why he had gone. + +No one seemed to know exactly what had taken place, and she was too +exhausted to tell. Possibly she would hot have told in any case. It +was known only that an attempt had been made upon the life of the +British Resident, Sir Reginald Bassett, and it was surmised that +Muriel had realised the murderous intention in time to frustrate it. +Certainly a native had tried to help her, but since the native had +disappeared, his share in the conflict was not regarded as very great. +As a matter of fact, the light had been too uncertain and the struggle +too confused for even the eye-witnesses to know with any certainty +what had taken place. Theories and speculations were many and various, +but not one of them went near to the truth. + +"Dear Muriel will tell us presently just how it happened," Lady +Bassett said in her soft voice. + +But Muriel was as one who heard not. She would not even open her eyes +till Sir Reginald came to her, pillowed her head against him, kissed +her white face, and called her his brave little girl. + +That moved her at last, awaking in her the old piteous hunger, +never wholly stifled, for her father. She turned and clung to him +convulsively with an inarticulate murmuring that ended in passionate +tears. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII + +THE LAST SKIRMISH + + +Why had he gone? That was the question that vexed Muriel's soul +through the long hours that followed her return to the Residency. +Lying sleepless on her bed, she racked her weary brain for an answer +to the riddle, but found none. Her brief doubt regarding him had long +since fled. She knew with absolute certainty that it was Nick and +no other who had yelled those furious words, who had made that +panther-spring, who had leaned over her and withdrawn the revolver +from her hold, telling her softly not to cry. But why had he gone just +then when she needed him most? + +Surely by now her message had reached him! Surely he knew that she +wanted him, that she had lowered what he had termed her miserable +little rag of pride to tell him so! Then why was he tormenting her +thus--playing with her as a cat might play with a mouse? Was he taking +his revenge for all the bitter scorn she had flung at him in the past? +Did he think to wring from her some more definite appeal? Ah, that was +it! Like a searchlight flashing inwards, she remembered her promise +to him uttered long ago against her will--his answering oath. And she +knew that he meant to hold her to that promise--that he would exact +the very uttermost sacrifice that it entailed; and then perchance--she +shivered at the unendurable thought--he would laugh his baffling, +enigmatical laugh, and go his way. + +But this was unbearable, impossible. She would sooner die than suffer +it. She would sooner--yes, she would almost sooner--break her promise. + +And then, to save her from distraction, the other side of the picture +presented itself, that reverse side which he had once tauntingly +advised her to study. If he truly loved her, he would not treat her +thus. It would not gratify him to see her in the dust. If he still +cared, as Daisy had assured her he did, it would not be his pleasure +to make her suffer. But then again--oh, torturing question!--had that +been so, would he have gone at that critical moment, would he have +left her, when a look, a touch, would have sufficed to establish +complete understanding? + +Drearily the hours dragged away. The heat was great, and just before +daybreak a thunder-storm rolled up, but spent itself without a drop of +rain. It put the finishing touches to Muriel's restlessness. She rose +and dressed, to sit by her window with her torturing thoughts for +company, and awaited the day. + +With the passing of the storm a slight draught that was like a shudder +moved the scorched leaves of the acacias in the compound, quivered a +little, and ceased. Then came the dawn, revealing mass upon mass of +piled cloud hanging low over the earth. The breaking of the monsoon +was drawing very near. There could be no lifting of the atmosphere, no +relief, until it came. + +She leaned her aching head against the window-frame in a maze of +weariness unutterable. Her heart was too heavy for prayer. + +Minutes passed. The daylight grew and swiftly overspread all things. +The leaden silence began to be pierced here and there by the barking +of a dog, the crowing of a cock, the scolding of a parrot. Somewhere, +either in the compound or close to it, some one began to whistle--a +soft, tentative whistle, like a young blackbird trying its notes. + +Muriel remained motionless, scarcely heeding while it wove itself into +the background of her thoughts. She was in fact hardly aware of it, +till suddenly, with a great thrill of astonishment that shook her +from head to foot, a wild suspicion seized her, and she started up, +listening intently. The fitful notes were resolving into a melody--a +waltz she knew, alluring, enchanting, compelling--the waltz that had +filled in the dreadful silences on that night long ago when she had +fought so desperately hard for her freedom and had prevailed at last. +But stay! Had she prevailed? Had she not rather been a captive in +spite of it all ever since? + +On and on went the haunting waltz-refrain, now near, now far, now +summoning, now eluding. She stood gripping the curtain till she +could bear it no longer, and then with a great sob she mustered her +resolution; she stepped out upon the verandah, and passed down between +shrivelled trailing roses to the garden below. + +The tune ceased quite suddenly, and she found herself moving through +a silence that could be felt. But she would not turn back then. She +would not let herself be discouraged. She had been frightened so often +when there had been no need for fear. + +On she pressed to the end of the path till she stood by the high +fence that bordered the road. She could see no one. The garden lay +absolutely deserted. She paused, hesitating, bewildered. + +At the same instant from the other side of the fence, almost as if +rising from the ground at her feet, a careless voice began to hum--a +cracked, tuneless, unmistakable voice, that sent the blood to her +heart with a force that nearly suffocated her. + +"Nick!" she said, almost in a whisper. + +He did not hear her evidently. His humming continued with unabated +liveliness. + +"Nick!" she said again. + +Still no result. There was nothing in the least dramatic in the +situation. It might almost have been described as ludicrous, but the +white-faced woman in the compound did not find it so. + +She waited till he had come to a suitable stopping place, and then, +before he could renew the melody, she rapped with nervous force upon +the fence. + +There fell a most unexpected silence. + +She broke it with words imploring, almost agonised. "Nick! Nick! Come +and speak to me--for Heaven's sake!" + +His flippant voice greeted her at once in a tone of cheerful inquiry. +"That you, Muriel?" + +Her agitation began to subside of itself. Nothing could have been more +casual than his question. "Yes," she said in reply. "Why are you out +there? Why don't you come in?" + +"My dear girl,--at this hour!" There was shocked reproof in the +ejaculation. Nick was evidently scandalised at the suggestion. + +Muriel lost her patience forthwith. Was it for this that she had spent +all those miserable hours of fruitless heart-searching? His trifling +was worse than ridiculous. It was insufferable. + +"You are to come in at once," she said, in a tone of authority. + +"What for?" said Nick. + +"Because--because--" She hesitated, and stopped, her face burning. + +"Because--" said Nick encouragingly. + +"Oh, don't be absurd!" she exclaimed in desperation. "How can I +possibly talk to you there?" + +"It depends upon what you want to say," said Nick. "If it is something +particularly private--" He paused. + +"Well?" she said. + +"You can always come to me, you know," he pointed out. "But I +shouldn't do that, if I were you. It would be neither dignified nor +proper. And a girl in your position, dearest Muriel, cannot be too +discreet. It is the greatest mistake in the world to act upon impulse. +Let me entreat you to do nothing headlong. Take another year or so to +think things over. There are so many nice men to choose from, and this +absurd infatuation of yours cannot possibly last." + +"Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice held a curious mixture of mirth and +sadness. "It--it isn't a bit funny to talk like that. It isn't even +particularly kind." + +"Ye gods!" said Nick. "Who wants to be kind?" + +"Not you, evidently," she told him with a hint of bitterness. "You +only aim at being intelligent." + +"Well, you'll admit I hit the mark sometimes," he rejoined. "I'm like +a rat, eh? Clever but loathsome." + +She uttered a quivering laugh. "No, you are much more like an eagle, +waiting to strike. Why don't you, I wonder, and--and take what you +want?" + +Nick's answering laugh had a mocking note in it. "Oh, I can play +Animal Grab as well as anybody--better than most," he said modestly. +"But I don't chance to regard this as a suitable occasion for +displaying my skill. Uninteresting for you, of course, but then you +are fond of running away when there is no one after you. It's been +your favourite pastime for almost as long as I have known you." + +The sudden silence with which this airy remark was received had in +it something tragic. Muriel had sunk down on a garden-bench close at +hand, lacking the strength to go away. It was exactly what she had +expected. He meant to take his revenge in his own peculiar fashion. +She had laid herself open to this, and mercilessly, unerringly, he had +availed himself of the opportunity to wound. She might have known! She +might have known! Had he not done it again and again? Oh, she had been +a fool--a fool--to call him back! + +Through the wild hurry of her thoughts his voice pierced once more. It +had an odd inflection that was curiously like a note of concern. + +"I say, Muriel, are you crying?" + +"Crying!" She pulled herself together hastily. "No! Why should I?" + +"I can tell you why you shouldn't," he answered whimsically. "No one +ever ought to cry before breakfast. It's shocking for the appetite +and may ruin the complexion for the rest of the day. Besides,--you've +nothing to cry for." + +"Oh, don't be absurd!" she flung back again almost fiercely. "I'm not +crying!" + +"Quite sure?" said Nick. + +"Absolutely certain," she declared. + +"All right then," he rejoined. "That being so, you had better dry your +eyes very carefully, for I am coming to see for myself." + + + + +CHAPTER LIV + +SURRENDER + + +She awaited him still sitting on the bench and striving vainly to +quiet her thumping heart. She heard him come lightly up behind her, +but she did not turn her head though she had no tears to conceal. She +was possessed by an insane desire to spring up and flee. It took all +her resolution to remain where she was. + +And so Nick drew near unwelcomed--a lithe, alert figure in European +attire, bare-headed, eager-faced. He was smiling to himself as he +came, but when he reached her the smile was gone. + +He bent and looked into her white, downcast face; then laid his hand +upon her shoulder. + +"But Muriel--" he said. + +And that was all. Yet Muriel suddenly hid her face and wept. + +He did not attempt to restrain her. Perhaps he realised that tears +such as those must have their way. But the touch of his hand was in +some fashion soothing. It stilled the tempest within her, comforting +her inexplicably. + +She reached up at last, and drew it down between her own, holding it +fast. + +"I'm such a fool, Nick," she whispered shakily. "You--you must try to +bear with me." + +She felt his fingers close and gradually tighten upon her own until +their grip was actual pain. + +"Haven't I borne with you long enough?" he said. "Can't you come to +the point?" + +She shook her head slightly. Her trembling had not wholly ceased. She +was not--even yet she was not--wholly sure of him. + +"Afraid?" he questioned. + +And she answered him meekly, with bowed head. "Yes, Nick; afraid." + +"Don't you think you might look me in the face if you tried very +hard?" he suggested. + +"No, Nick." She almost shrank at the bare thought. + +"Oh, but you haven't tried," he said. + +His voice sounded very close. She knew he was bending down. She even +fancied she could feel his breath upon her neck. + +Her head sank a little lower. "Don't!" she whispered, with a sob. + +"What are you afraid of?" he said. "You weren't afraid to send me a +message. You weren't afraid to save my life last night. What is it +frightens you?" + +She could not tell him. Only her panic was very real. It shook her +from head to foot. A fierce struggle was going on within her,--the +last bitter conflict between her love and her fear. It tore her in all +directions. She felt as if it would drive her mad. But through it all +she still clung desperately to the bony hand that grasped her own. It +seemed to sustain her, to hold her up, through all her chaos of doubt, +of irresolution, of miserable, overmastering dread. + +"What is it frightens you?" he said again. "Why won't you look at me? +There is nothing whatever to make you afraid!" + +He spoke softly, as though he were addressing a scared child. But +still she was afraid, afraid of the very impulse that urged her, +horribly afraid of meeting the darting scrutiny of his eyes. + +He waited for a little in silence; then suddenly with a sharp sigh +he straightened himself. "You don't know your own mind yet," he said. +"And I can't help you to know it. I had better go." + +He would have withdrawn his hand with the words, but she held it fast. + +"No, Nick, no! It isn't that," she told him tremulously. "I know what +I want--perfectly well. But--but--I can't put it into words. I can't! +I can't!" + +"Is that it?" said Nick. His manner changed completely. He bent down +again. She heard the old note of banter in his voice, but mingled with +it was a tenderness so utter that she scarcely recognised it. "Then, +my dear girl, in Heaven's name, don't try! Words were not made for +such an occasion as this. They are clumsy tools at the best of times. +You can make me understand without words. I'm horribly intelligent, as +you remarked just now." + +Her heart leapt to the rapid assurance. Was it so difficult to tell +him after all? Surely she could find a way! + +The tumult of her emotions swelled to sudden uproar, thunderous, +all-possessing, overwhelming, so that she gasped and gasped again for +breath. And then all in a moment she knew that the conflict was over. +She was as a diver, hurling with headlong velocity from dizzy height +into deep waters, and she rejoiced--she exulted--in that mad rush into +depth. + +With a quivering laugh she moved. She loosened her convulsive clasp +upon his hand, turned it upwards, and stooping low, she pressed her +lips closely, passionately, lingeringly, upon his open palm. She had +found a way. + +He started sharply at her action; he almost winced. Then, "Muriel!" he +exclaimed in a voice that broke, and threw himself on his knees beside +her, holding her fast in a silence so sudden and so tense that she +also was awed into a great stillness. + +Yet, after a little, though his face was pressed against her so +that she could not see it or even vaguely guess his mood, she found +strength to speak. + +"I can tell you what I want now, Nick," she whispered. "Shall I tell +you?" + +He did not answer, did not so much as breathe. But yet she knew no +fear or hesitancy. Her eyes were opened, and her tongue loosed. Words +came easily to her now, more easily than they had ever come before. + +"I want to be married--soon, very soon," she told him softly. "And +then I want you to take me away with you into Nepal, as you planned +ever so long ago. And let us be alone together in the mountains--quite +alone as we were before. Will you, Nick? Will you?" + +But again he had no answer for her. He did not seem able to reply. +His head still lay against her shoulder. His arm was still tense about +her. She fell silent, waiting for him. + +At last he drew a deep breath that seemed to burst upwards from the +very heart of him, and lifted his face with a jerk. + +"My God!" he said. "Is it true?" + +His voice was oddly uneven; he seemed to produce it with difficulty. +But having broken the spell that bound him, he managed after a moment +to continue. + +"Are you quite sure you want to marry me,--quite sure that to-morrow +you won't be scared out of your wits at the bare idea? Have you left +off being afraid of me? Do you mean me really to take you at your +word?" + +"If you will, Nick," she answered humbly. + +"If I will!" he echoed, with sudden passion. "I warn you, Muriel, you +are putting yourself irrevocably in my power, and you will never break +away again. You may come to loathe me with your whole soul, but I +shall never let you go. Have you realised that? If I take you now, I +take you for all time." + +He spoke almost with violence, and, having spoken, drew back from her +abruptly, as though he could not wholly trust himself. + +But nothing could dismay her now. She had fought her last battle, had +made the final surrender. Her fear was dead. She stretched out her +hands to him with unfaltering confidence. + +"Take me then, Nick," she said. + +He took the extended hands with quick decision, first one and then the +other, and laid them on his shoulders. + +"Now look at me," he said. + +She hesitated, though not as one afraid. + +"Look at me, Muriel!" he insisted. + +Then, as she kept her eyes downcast, he put his hand under her chin +and compelled her. + +She yielded with a little quivering murmur of protest, and so for the +first time in her life she deliberately met his look, encountering +eyes so wide and so piercingly blue that she had a moment's bewildered +feeling of uncertainty, as though she had looked into the eyes of a +stranger. Then the colourless lashes descended again and veiled them +as of old. He blinked with his usual disconcerting rapidity and set +her free. + +"Yes," he said. "You've left off cheating. And if you really care to +marry me--what's left of me--it's a precious poor bargain, but--I am +yours." + +His voice cracked a little. She fancied he was going to laugh. And +then, while she was still wondering, his arm went round her again and +drew her closely to him. She was conscious of a sudden, leaping flame +behind the pale lashes, felt his hold tighten while the wrinkled face +drew near,--and with a sob she clasped her arms about his neck and +turned her lips to his. + + + + +CHAPTER LV + +OMNIA VINCIT AMOR + + +"Funny, wasn't it?" said Nick, jingling a small handful of coins in +front of his fiancée. "Quite a harvest in its way! I had no idea you +were so charitable." + +She caught his wrist. "You have no right to a single one of them. You +obtained them under false pretences. What in the world induced you to +do such a thing?" + +Nick's hand closed firmly upon the spoil. "It was a sheer, heaven-sent +inspiration," he declared. "Care to know how it came to me? It +happened one night in the Indian Ocean when I was on the way out with +Daisy. I was lying on deck under the stars, thinking of you, and the +whole idea came to me ready-made. I didn't attempt to shape it; it +shaped itself. I was hungering for the sight of you, and I knew you +would never find me out. You never would have, either, if I hadn't +had Daisy's message. I was just going to quit my lonely vigil when +it reached me. But that altered my plans, and I decided with Fraser's +assistance to face it out. You knew he was in the secret, of course? +He is in every secret, that chap. As soon as I heard of Lady Bassett's +ingenious little fiction about the Buddhist monastery, I was ready +to take the wan path. But you were invisible, you know. I had to wait +till you emerged. Then came last night's episode, and I had to take to +my heels. I couldn't face a public exposure, and it wouldn't have +been particularly pleasant for you, either. So now you have the whole +touching story, and I think you needn't grudge me a rupee and a few +annas as a reward for my devotion." + +Muriel laughed rather tremulously. "I would have given you something +better worth having--if I had known." + +"Never too late," said Nick philosophically. "You can begin at once +if you like. Let me have your hand. Hold it steady, my dear girl. +Remember my limitations. You won't refuse any longer to wear my ring?" + +"I will wear it gladly," she told him, as he fitted it back upon her +finger. "I shall never part with it again." + +Her eyes were full of tears, but she would not let them fall, and Nick +was too intent upon what he was doing to notice. + +"That imp Olga nearly broke her poor little heart when she gave it +back to me," he said. "I think I shall have to send her a cable. What +shall I say? OMNIA VINCIT AMOR? She is old enough to know what that +means. And if I add, 'From Muriel and Nick,' she will understand. A +pity she can't come to our wedding! I'd sooner have seen her jolly +little phiz than all Lady Bassett's wreathed smiles. She is sure to +smile, you know. She always does when she sees me." He broke off with +a hideous grimace. + +"Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice trembled a little. "Why does she hate +you so?" + +"Can't imagine," grinned Nick. "It's a way some people have. Perhaps +she will end by falling in love with me. Who knows?" + +"Don't be horrid, Nick! Why won't you tell me?" Muriel laid a pleading +hand upon his. + +He caught it to his lips. "I can't tell you, darling, seeing she is +a woman. An unpleasant adventure befell her once for which I was +partially responsible. And she has hated me with most unseemly +vehemence ever since." + +A light began to break upon Muriel. "Was it something that happened on +board ship?" she hazarded. + +He gave her a sharp look. "Who told you that?" + +She flushed a little. "Bobby Fraser. He didn't mention her name, of +course. We--we were talking about you once." + +Nick laughed aloud. "Only once?" + +Her colour deepened. "You are positively ridiculous. Still, I wish +it hadn't been Lady Bassett, Nick. I don't like to feel she hates you +like that." + +"It doesn't hurt me in the least," Nick declared. "Her poison-fang is +extracted so far as I am concerned. She could only poison me through +you. I always knew I had her to thank for what happened at Simla." + +"Oh, but not her alone," Muriel said quickly. "You mustn't blame her +only for that. I was prejudiced against you by--other things." + +"I know all about it," said Nick. He was holding her hand in his, +moving it hither and thither to catch the gleam of the rubies upon it. +"You were a poor little scared rabbit fleeing from a hideous monster +of destruction. You began to run that last night at Wara when I made +you drink that filthy draught, and you have hardly stopped yet. I +don't suppose it ever occurred to you that I would rather have died +in torment than have done it." He broke into a sudden laugh. "But you +needn't be afraid that I shall ever do it again. I can't do much +to any one with only one arm, can I? You witnessed my futility last +night. There's a grain of comfort in that, eh, darling?" + +"Nick, don't, don't!" She turned to him impulsively and laid her cheek +against his shoulder. "You--you don't know how you hurt me!" + +"My dear girl, what's the matter?" said Nick. "I was only trying to +draw your attention to my good points--such as they are." + +"Don't!" she said again, in a choked voice. "It's more than I can +bear. You would never have lost your arm but for me." + +"Oh, rats!" said Nick, holding her closely. "Whoever told you that--" + +"It was Dr. Jim." + +"Well, Jim's an ass, and I shall tell him so. There, don't fret, +darling. It isn't worth it. I could wish it hadn't happened for your +sake, but I don't care a rap for my own." + +"You are not to care for mine," she whispered. "I shall only love you +the better for it." + +"Then it will be a blessing to me after all," said Nick cheerily. +"Do you know what we are going to do as soon as we are married, +sweetheart? We are going to climb the highest mountain in the world, +to see the sun rise, and to thank God." + +She turned her face upwards with a quivering smile. "Let us be married +soon then, Nick." + +"At once," said Nick promptly. "Come along and tell Sir Reginald. +He must be out of bed by this time. If he isn't I think the occasion +almost justifies us in knocking him up." + +They found Sir Reginald already upon the verandah, drinking his early +coffee, and to Muriel's dismay he was not alone. It was later than she +had imagined, and Colonel Cathcart and Bobby Fraser had both dropped +in for a gossip, and were seated with him at the table smoking. + +As she and Nick approached, Lady Bassett herself emerged through an +open window behind the three men. + +Nick began to chuckle. This was the sort of situation that appealed +to his sense of humour. He began to chant an old-world ditty under his +breath with appropriate words. + +"Oh, dear, what will the Bassett say?" + +Muriel uttered a short, hysterical laugh, and instantly they were +discovered. + +"Now what are you going to do?" said Nick. + +"I don't know," she responded hurriedly. "Run away, I think." + +"Not you," said Nick, grasping her hand very firmly. "You are going to +face the music with me." + +She gave in, half laughing, half protesting, and he led her up the +steps with considerable pomp. + +She need not have been so painfully embarrassed, for every one, with +the exception of Bobby Fraser, looked at Nick, and Nick only, in +speechless amazement, as though he had just returned from the dead. + +Nick was sublimely equal to the occasion. He came to a standstill by +the table, executed an elaborate bow in Lady Bassett's direction, then +turned briskly to Sir Reginald. + +"After two years' deliberation," he announced, "we have decided to +settle our differences by getting married, and we are hoping, sir, +that you will bestow your blessing upon our union." + +"My good fellow!" gasped Sir Reginald. "This is a very great +surprise!" + +"Yes, I know," said Nick. "It was to me, too. But--though fully +sensible of my unworthiness--I shall do my best to deserve the very +high honour that has been done me. And I hope we may count upon your +approval and support." + +Again his bow included Lady Bassett. There was a mocking glint in the +glance he threw her. + +She came forward as though in answer to a challenge, her face +unwontedly flushed. "This is indeed unexpected!" she declared, +extending her hand. "How do you do, Captain Ratcliffe? You will +understand our surprise when I tell you that some one was saying only +the other day that you had entered a Tibetan monastery." + +"Some one must have been telling a lie, dear Lady Bassett," said Nick. +"I am sorry if it caused you any uneasiness on my account. I should +certainly never have taken such a serious step without letting you +know. I trust that my projected marriage will have a less disturbing +effect." + +Lady Bassett smiled her crooked smile, and raised one eyebrow. "Oh, I +shall not be anxious on your account," she assured him playfully. + +"Quite right, Lady Bassett," broke in Colonel Cathcart. "He'll hold +his own, wherever he is. I always said so when he was in the Service." + +"And a little over probably," put in Bobby Fraser. "Miss Roscoe, if +you ever find him hard to manage, you send for me." + +Muriel, from the shelter of Sir Reginald's arm, looked across at the +speaker with a smile of unwonted confidence. + +"Thank you all the same," she responded, "but I don't expect any +difficulties in that respect." + +"She is far more likely to fight my battles for me," remarked Nick +complacently, "seeing my own fighting days are over." + +"And what have you been doing with yourself all this time?" demanded +Sir Reginald suddenly. "You have been singularly unobtrusive. What +have you been doing?" + +Nick's answering grin was one of sheer exuberance of spirit. "I've +just been marking time, sir, that's all," he replied enigmatically. +"A monotonous business for every one concerned, but it seems to have +served its purpose." + +Sir Reginald grunted a little, and looked uncomfortably at his wife's +twisted smile. "And now you want to get married, do you?" he said. + +"At once," said Nick. + +"Well, well," said Sir Reginald, beginning to smile himself. "All's +well that ends well, and Muriel is old enough to please herself. Mind +you are good to her, that's all. And I wish you both every happiness." + +"So do I," said Bobby Fraser heartily. "And look here, you +jack-in-the-box, if you're wanting a best man to push you through, +I'll undertake the job. It's a capacity in which I have often made +myself useful." + +"Right O!" laughed Nick. "But you won't find I want much pushing, old +chap. I'm on my way to the top crag of Everest already." + +"Ah, Captain Ratcliffe, be careful!" murmured Lady Bassett. "Do not +soar too high!" + +He bowed to her a third time, still with his baffling smile. "Thanks, +dear Lady Bassett!" he said lightly. "But you need have no misgivings. +Forewarned is forearmed, they say. And on this occasion, at least, I +am wise--in time." + +"And dear Muriel too, I wonder?" smiled Lady Bassett. + +"And dear Muriel too," smiled Nick. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI + +THE EAGLE SOARS + + +Night and a running stream--a soft gurgle of sound that was like a +lullaby. Within the tent the quiet breathing of a man asleep; standing +in the entrance--a woman. + +There was a faint quiver in the air as of something coming from afar, +a hushed expectancy of something great. A chill breath came off the +snows, hovering secretly above the ice-cold water. The stars glittered +like loose-hung jewels upon a sable robe. + +Ah, that flash as of a sword across the sky! A meteor had fallen among +the mountains. It was almost like a signal in the heavens--herald of +the coming wonder of the dawn. + +Softly the watcher turned inwards, and at once a gay, cracked voice +spoke out of the darkness. + +"Hullo, darling! Up and watching already! Ye gods! What a sky! Why +didn't you wake me sooner? Have I time for a plunge?" + +"Perhaps--if you will let me help you dress after it. Certainly not +otherwise." The deep voice had in it a tremulous note that was like a +caress. The speaker was looking into the shadows. The glory without no +longer held her. + +"All right then, you shall--just for a treat. Perhaps you would like +to shave me as well?" + +"Shave you!" There was scorn this time in the answering voice. "You +couldn't grow a single hair if you tried!" + +"True, O Queen! I couldn't. And the few I was born with are invisible. +Hence my failure to distinguish myself in the Army. It is to be hoped +the deficiency will not blight my Parliamentary career also--always +supposing I get there." + +"Ah, but you did distinguish yourself. I heard--once"--the words came +with slight hesitation--"that you ought to have had the V.C. after the +Wara expedition,--only you refused it." + +"I wonder what gas-bag let that out," commented Nick. "You shouldn't +believe all you hear, you know. Now, darling, I'm ready for the +plunge, and I must look sharp about it too. Do you mind rummaging out +a towel?" + +"But, Nick, was it true?" + +"What? The V.C. episode? Oh, I suppose so, more or less. I didn't +want to be decorated for running away, you see. It didn't seem exactly +suitable. Besides, I didn't do it for that." + +"Nick, do you know you make me feel more contemptible every day?" +There was an unmistakable quiver of distress in the words. + +"My own girl, don't be a goose!" came the light response. "You don't +honestly suppose I could ever regret anything now, do you? Why, it's a +lost faculty." + +He stepped from the tent, clad loosely in a bath sheet, and bestowed a +kiss upon his wife's downcast face in passing. "Look here, sweetheart, +if you cry while I'm in the water, I'll beat you directly I come out. +That's a promise, not a threat. And by the way, I've got something +good to tell you presently; so keep your heart up." + +He laughed at her and went his way, humming tunelessly after his +own peculiarly volatile fashion. She listened to his singing, as he +splashed in the stream below, as though it were the sweetest music on +earth; and she knew that he had spoken the truth. Whatever sacrifices +he had made in the past, regret was a thing impossible to him now. + +By the time he joined her again, she had driven away her own. The sky +was changing mysteriously. The purple depth was lightening, the stars +receding. + +"We must hurry," said Nick. "The gods won't wait for us." + +But they were ready first after all, and the morning found them high +up the mountainside with their faces to the east. + +Sudden and splendid, the sun flashed up over the edge of the world, +and the snow of the mountain crests shone in roselit glory for a few +magic seconds, then shimmered to gold--glittering as the peaks of +Paradise. + +They did not speak at all, for the ground beneath their feet was holy, +and all things that called for speech were left behind. Only as +dawn became day--as the sun-god mounted triumphant above the waiting +earth--the man's arm tightened about the woman, and his flickering +eyes grew steadfast and reverent as the eyes of one who sees a +vision.... + +"'Prophet and priestess we came--back from the dawning,'" quoted Nick, +under his breath. + +Muriel uttered a long, long sigh, and turned her face against her +husband's shoulder. + +His lips were on her forehead for a moment; the next he was peering +into her face with his usual cheery grin. + +"Care to hear my piece of news?" he questioned. + +She looked at him eagerly. "Oh, Nick, not the mail!" + +He nodded. "Runner came in late last night. You were asleep and +dreaming of me. I hadn't the heart to wake you." + +She laughed and blushed. "As if I should! Do you really imagine that I +never think of anyone else? But go on. What news?" + +He pulled out two letters. "One from Olga, full of adoration, bless +her funny heart, and containing also a rude message from Jim to the +effect that Redlands is going to rack and ruin for want of a tenant +while we are philandering on the outside edge of civilisation doing +no good to anybody. No good indeed! I'll punch his head for that some +day. But I suppose we really ought to be thinking of Home before long, +eh, sweetheart?" + +She assented with a smile and a sigh. "I am sure we ought. Dr. Jim is +quite right. We must come back to earth again, my eagle and I." + +Nick kissed her hair. "It's been a gorgeous flight hasn't it? We'll do +it again--heaps of times--before we die." + +"If nothing happens to prevent," said Muriel. + +He frowned. "What do you say that for? Are you trying to be like Lady +Bassett? Because it's a vain aspiration, so you may as well give it up +at the outset." + +"Nick, how absurd you are!" There was a slight break in the words. +"I--I had almost forgotten there was such a person. No, I said it +because--because--well, anything might happen, you know." + +"Such as?" said Nick. + +"Anything," she repeated almost inaudibly. + +Nick pondered this for a moment. "Is it a riddle?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Her face was hidden. + +He waited a little. Then, "I shall begin to guess directly," he said. + +She uttered a muffled laugh, and clung to him with a sudden, +passionate closeness. "Nick, you--you humbug! You know!" + +Nick tossed his letters on the ground and held her fast. "My precious +girl, you gave the show away not ten seconds ago by that blush of +yours. There! Don't be so absurdly shy! You can't be shy with me. Look +at me, sweet. Look up and tell me it's true!" + +She turned her face upwards, quivering all over, yet laughing +tremulously. "Yes, Nick, really, really!" she told him. "Oh, my +darling, are you glad?" + +"Am I glad?" said Nick, and laughed at her softly. "I'm the happiest +man on earth. I shall go Home now without a pang, and so will you. +We have got to feather the nest, you know. That'll be fun, eh, +sweetheart?" + +Her eyes answered him more convincingly than any words. They seemed +to have caught some of the sunshine that made the world around them so +glorious. + +Some time elapsed before she remembered the neglected correspondence. +Time was of no account up there among the mountains. + +"The other letter, Nick, you didn't tell me about it. I fancied you +might have heard from Will Musgrave." + +"So I have," said Nick. "You had better read it. There's a line for +you inside. It's all right. Daisy has got a little girl, both doing +splendidly; Daisy very happy, Will nearly off his head with joy." + +Muriel was already deep in Will's ecstatic letter. She read it with +smiling lips and tearful eyes. At the end in pencil she found the line +that was for her. + +"Tell Muriel that all's well with me, and I want you both for +Christmas.--Daisy." + +Muriel looked up. "I promised to spend Christmas with them, Nick." + +Nick smiled upon her quizzically. "By a strange coincidence, darling, +so did I. I should think under the circumstances we might go together, +shouldn't you?" + +She drew his hand to her cheek. "We will go to them for Christmas +then. And after that straight Home. Tell Dr. Jim when you write. +But--Nick--I think we should like to feather the nest all ourselves, +don't you?" + +"Why, rather!" said Nick. "We'll do it together--just you and I." + +"Just you and I," she repeated softly. + +Later, hand in hand, they looked across the valley to the shining +crags that glistened spear-like in the sun. + +A great silence lay around them--a peace unspeakable--that those +silver crests lifted into the splendour of Infinity. + +They stood alone together--above the world--with their faces to the +mountains. + +And thus standing with the woman he loved, Nick spoke, briefly--it +seemed lightly--yet with a certain tremor in his voice. + +"Horses," he said--"and chariots--of fire!" And Muriel looked at him +with memory and understanding in her eyes. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way of an Eagle, by Ethel M. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + diff --git a/old/12516-8.zip b/old/12516-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c68d9c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12516-8.zip diff --git a/old/12516.txt b/old/12516.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..027b3fc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/12516.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13654 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way of an Eagle, by Ethel M. Dell + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Way of an Eagle + +Author: Ethel M. Dell + +Release Date: June 4, 2004 [EBook #12516] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WAY OF AN EAGLE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Bill Hershey and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +[Illustration: Drawn by John Cassel. +"Where am I?" she gasped. "What--what +have you done with me?"] + + + + +The Way of an Eagle + + +By E.M. DELL + +1911 + + + + +CONTENTS + + + +PART I + + +CHAPTER + +I.--THE TRUST + +II.--A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER + +III.--THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY + +IV.--DESOLATION + +V.--THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS + +VI.--WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL + +VII.--THE COMING OF AN ARMY + + + +PART II + + +VIII.--COMRADES + +IX.--THE SCHOOL OF SORROW + +X.--THE EAGLE SWOOPS + +XI.--THE FIRST FLIGHT + +XII.--THE MESSAGE + +XIII.--THE VOICE OF A FRIEND + +XIV.--THE POISON OF ADDERS + +XV.--THE SUMMONS + +XVI.--THE ORDEAL + + + +PART III + + +XVII.--An Old Friend + +XVIII.--The Explanation + +XIX.--A Hero Worshipper + +XX.--News from the East + +XXI.--A Harbour of Refuge + +XXII.--An Old Story + +XXIII.--The Sleep Called Death + +XXIV.--The Creed of a Fighter + +XXV.--A Scented Letter + +XXVI.--The Eternal Flame + +XXVII.--The Eagle Caged + +XXVIII.--The Lion's Skin + +XXIX.--Old Friends Meet + +XXX.--An Offer of Friendship + +XXXI.--The Eagle Hovers + + + +PART IV + + +XXXII.--The Face in the Storm + +XXXIII.--The Lifting of the Mask + +XXXIV.--At the Gate of Death + +XXXV.--The Armistice + +XXXVI.--The Eagle Strikes + +XXXVII. THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT + +XXXVIII. THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF + +XXXIX. BY SINGLE COMBAT + +XL. THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + +XLI. THE EAGLE'S PREY + +XLII. THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL + +XLIII. REQUIESCAT + +XLIV. LOVE'S PRISONER + + + +PART V + + +XLV. THE VISION + +XLVI. THE HEART OF A MAN + +XLVII. IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP + +XLVIII. THE HEALING OF THE BREACH + +XLIX. THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG + +L. EREBUS + +LI. THE BIRD OF PARADISE + +LII. A WOMAN'S OFFERING + +LIII. THE LAST SKIRMISH + +LIV. SURRENDER + +LV. OMNIA VINCIT AMOR + +LVI. THE EAGLE SOARS + + + + + "There be three things which are too wonderful + for me, yea, four which I know not: + + The way of an eagle in the air; + the way of a serpent upon a rock; + the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; + and the way of a man with a maid." + +Proverbs xxx, 18-19. + + + + +THE WAY OF AN EAGLE + + + + +PART I + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE TRUST + + +The long clatter of an irregular volley of musketry rattled warningly +from the naked mountain ridges; over a great grey shoulder of rock +the sun sank in a splendid opal glow; from very near at hand came the +clatter of tin cups and the sound of a subdued British laugh. And in +the room of the Brigadier-General a man lifted his head from his hands +and stared upwards with unseeing, fixed eyes. + +There was an impotent, crushed look about him as of one nearing the +end of his strength. The lips under the heavy grey moustache moved a +little as though they formed soundless words. He drew his breath once +or twice sharply through his teeth. Finally, with a curious groping +movement he reached out and struck a small hand-gong on the table in +front of him. + +The door slid open instantly and an Indian soldier stood in the +opening. The Brigadier stared full at him for several seconds as if he +saw nothing, his lips still moving secretly, silently. Then suddenly, +with a stiff gesture, he spoke. + +"Ask the major sahib and the two captain sahibs to come to me here." + +The Indian saluted and vanished like a swift-moving shadow. + +The Brigadier sank back into his chair, his head drooped forward, his +hands clenched. There was tragedy, hopeless and absolute, in every +line of him. + +There came the careless clatter of spurred heels and loosely-slung +swords in the passage outside of the half-closed door, the sound of a +stumble, a short ejaculation, and again a smothered laugh. + +"Confound you Grange! Why can't you keep your feet to yourself, you +ungainly Triton, and give us poor minnows a chance?" + +The Brigadier sat upright with a jerk. It was growing rapidly dark. + +"Come in, all of you," he said. "I have something to say. As well to +shut the door, Ratcliffe, though it is not a council of war." + +"There being nothing left to discuss, sir," returned the voice that +had laughed. "It is just a simple case of sitting tight now till +Bassett comes round the corner." + +The Brigadier glanced up at the speaker and caught the last glow of +the fading sunset reflected on his face. It was a clean-shaven face +that should have possessed a fair skin, but by reason of unfavourable +circumstances it was burnt to a deep yellow-brown. The features were +pinched and wrinkled--they might have belonged to a very old man; but +the eyes that smiled down into the Brigadier's were shrewd, bright, +monkey-like. They expressed a cheeriness almost grotesque. The two men +whom he had followed into the room stood silent among the shadows. The +gloom was such as could be felt. + +Suddenly, in short, painful tones the Brigadier began to speak. + +"Sit down," he said. "I have sent for you to ask one among you to +undertake for me a certain service which must be accomplished, but +which I--" he paused and again audibly caught his breath between his +teeth--"which I--am unable to execute for myself." + +An instant's silence followed the halting speech. Then the young +officer who stood against the door stepped briskly forward. + +"What's the job, sir? I'll wager my evening skilly I carry it +through." + +One of the men in the shadows moved, and spoke in a repressive tone. +"Shut up, Nick! This is no mess-room joke." + +Nick made a sharp, half-contemptuous gesture. "A joke only ceases +to be a joke when there is no one left to laugh, sir," he said. "We +haven't come to that at present." + +He stood in front of the Brigadier for a moment--an insignificant +figure but for the perpetual suggestion of simmering activity that +pervaded him; then stepped behind the commanding officer's chair, and +there took up his stand without further words. + +The Brigadier paid no attention to him. His mind was fixed upon one +subject only. Moreover, no one ever took Nick Ratcliffe seriously. It +seemed a moral impossibility. + +"It is quite plain to me," he said heavily at length, "that the time +has come to face the situation. I do not speak for the discouragement +of you brave fellows. I know that I can rely upon each one of you to +do your duty to the utmost. But we are bound to look at things as they +are, and so prepare for the inevitable. I for one am firmly convinced +that General Bassett cannot possibly reach us in time." + +He paused, but no one spoke. The man behind him was leaning forward, +listening intently. + +He went on with an effort. "We are a mere handful. We have dwindled +to four white men among a host of dark. Relief is not even within a +remote distance of us, and we are already bordering upon starvation. +We may hold out for three days more. And then"--his breath came +suddenly short, but he forced himself to continue--"I have to think of +my child. She will be in your hands. I know you will all defend her to +the last ounce of your strength; but which of you"--a terrible gasping +checked his utterance for many labouring seconds; he put his hand over +his eyes--"which of you," he whispered at last, his words barely +audible, "will have the strength to--shoot her before your own last +moment comes?" + +The question quivered through the quiet room as if wrung from the +twitching lips by sheer torture. It went out in silence--a dreadful, +lasting silence in which the souls of men, stripped naked of human +convention, stood confronting the first primaeval instinct of human +chivalry. + +It continued through many terrible seconds--that silence, and through +it no one moved, no one seemed to breathe. It was as if a spell +had been cast upon the handful of Englishmen gathered there in the +deepening darkness. + +The Brigadier sat bowed and motionless at the table, his head sunk in +his hands. + +Suddenly there was a quiet movement behind him, and the spell was +broken. Ratcliffe stepped deliberately forward and spoke. + +"General," he said quietly, "if you will put your daughter in my care, +I swear to you, so help me God, that no harm of any sort shall touch +her." + +There was no hint of emotion in his voice, albeit the words were +strong; but it had a curious effect upon those who heard it. The +Brigadier raised his head sharply, and peered at him; and the other +two officers started as men suddenly stumbling at an unexpected +obstacle in a familiar road. + +One of them, Major Marshall, spoke, briefly and irritably, with a +touch of contempt. His nerves were on edge in that atmosphere of +despair. + +"You, Nick!" he said. "You are about the least reliable man in +the garrison. You can't be trusted to take even reasonable care of +yourself. Heaven only knows how it is you weren't killed long ago. It +was thanks to no discretion on your part. You don't know the meaning +of the word." + +Nick did not answer, did not so much as seem to hear. He was standing +before the Brigadier. His eyes gleamed in his alert face--two weird +pin-points of light. + +"She will be safe with me," he said, in a tone that held not the +smallest shade of uncertainty. + +But the Brigadier did not speak. He still searched young Ratcliffe's +face as a man who views through field-glasses a region distant and +unexplored. + +After a moment the officer who had remained silent throughout came +forward a step and spoke. He was a magnificent man with the physique +of a Hercules. He had remained on his feet, impassive but observant, +from the moment of his entrance. His voice had that soft quality +peculiar to some big men. + +"I am ready to sell my life for Miss Roscoe's safety, sir," he said. + +Nick Ratcliffe jerked his shoulders expressively, but said nothing. He +was waiting for the General to speak. As the latter rose slowly, with +evident effort, from his chair, he thrust out a hand, as if almost +instinctively offering help to one in sore need. + +General Roscoe grasped it and spoke at last. He had regained his +self-command. "Let me understand you, Ratcliffe," he said. "You +suggest that I should place my daughter in your charge. But I must +know first how far you are prepared to go to ensure her safety." + +He was answered instantly, with an unflinching promptitude he had +scarcely expected. + +"I am prepared to go to the uttermost limit, sir," said Nicholas +Ratcliffe, his fingers closing like springs upon the hand that gripped +his, "if there is a limit. That is to say, I am ready to go through +hell for her. I am a straight shot, a cool shot, a dead shot. Will you +trust me?" + +His voice throbbed with sudden feeling. General Roscoe was watching +him closely. "Can I trust you, Nick?" he said. + +There was an instant's silence, and the two men in the background +were aware that something passed between them--a look or a rapid +sign--which they did not witness. Then reckless and debonair came +Nick's voice. + +"I don't know, sir. But if I am untrustworthy, may I die to-night!" + +General Roscoe laid his free hand upon the young man's shoulder. + +"Is it so, Nick?" he said, and uttered a heavy sigh. "Well--so be it +then. I trust you." + +"That settles it, sir," said Nick cheerily. "The job is mine." + +He turned round with a certain arrogance of bearing, and walked to the +door. But there he stopped, looking back through the darkness at the +dim figures he had left. + +"Perhaps you will tell Miss Roscoe that you have appointed me +deputy-governor," he said. "And tell her not to be frightened, sir. +Say I'm not such a bogey as I look, and that she will be perfectly +safe with me." His tone was half-serious, half-jocular. He wrenched +open the door not waiting for a reply. + +"I must go back to the guns," he said, and the next moment was gone, +striding carelessly down the passage, and whistling a music-hall +ballad as he went. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +A SOLDIER'S DAUGHTER + + +In the centre of the little frontier fort there was a room which one +and all of its defenders regarded as sacred. It was an insignificant +chamber, narrow as a prison cell and almost as bare; but it was the +safest place in the fort. In it General Roscoe's daughter--the only +white woman in the garrison--had dwelt safely since the beginning of +that dreadful siege. + +Strictly forbidden by her father to stir from her refuge without +his express permission, she had dragged out the long days in close +captivity, living in the midst of nerve-shattering tumult but taking +no part therein. She was little more than a child, and accustomed +to render implicit obedience to the father she idolised, or she had +scarcely been persuaded to submit to this rigorous seclusion. It would +perhaps have been better for her physically and even mentally to +have gone out and seen the horrors which were being daily enacted all +around her. She had at first pleaded for at least a limited freedom, +urging that she might take her part in caring for the wounded. But her +father had refused this request with such decision that she had never +repeated it. And so she had seen nothing while hearing much, lying +through many sleepless nights with nerves strung to a pitch of torture +far more terrible than any bodily exhaustion, and vivid imagination +ever at work upon pictures more ghastly than even the ghastly reality +which she was not allowed to see. + +The strain was such as no human frame could have endured for long. +Her strength was beginning to break down under it. The long sleepless +nights were more than she could bear. And there came a time when +Muriel Roscoe, driven to extremity, sought relief in a remedy from +which in her normal senses she would have turned in disgust. + +It helped her, but it left its mark upon her--a mark which her father +must have noted, had he not been almost wholly occupied with the +burden that weighed him down. Morning and evening he visited her, yet +failed to read that in her haunted eyes which could not have escaped a +clearer vision. + +Entering her room two hours after his interview with his officers +regarding her, he looked at her searchingly indeed, but without +understanding. She lay among cushions on a _charpoy_ of bamboo in +the light of a shaded lamp. Young and slight and angular, with a +pale little face of utter weariness, with great dark eyes that gazed +heavily out of the black shadows that ringed them round, such was +Muriel Roscoe. Her black hair was simply plaited and gathered up at +the neck. It lay in cloudy masses about her temples--wonderful hair, +quite lustreless, so abundant that it seemed almost too much for the +little head that bore it. She did not rise at her father's entrance. +She scarcely raised her eyes. + +"So glad you've come, Daddy," she said, in a soft, low voice. "I've +been wanting you. It's nearly bedtime, isn't it?" + +He went to her, treading lightly. His thoughts had been all of her for +the past few hours and in consequence he looked at her more critically +than usual. For the first time he was struck by her pallor, her look +of deathly weariness. On the table near her lay a plate of boiled rice +piled high in a snowy pyramid. He saw that it had not been touched. + +"Why, child," he said, a sudden new anxiety at his heart "you have had +nothing to eat. You're not ill?" + +She roused herself a little, and a very faint colour crept into her +white cheeks. "No, dear, only tired--too tired to be hungry," she told +him. "That rice is for you." + +He sat down beside her with a sound that was almost a groan. "You must +eat something, child," he said. "Being penned up here takes away your +appetite. But all the same you must eat." + +She sat up slowly, and pushed back the heavy hair from her forehead +with a sigh. + +"Very well, Daddy," she said submissively. "But you must have some +too, dear. I couldn't possible eat it all." + +Something in his attitude or expression seemed to strike her at this +point, and she made a determined effort to shake off her lethargy. A +spoon and fork lay by the plate. She handed him the former and kept +the latter for herself. + +"We'll have a picnic, Daddy." she said, with a wistful little smile. +"I told _ayah_ always to bring two plates, but she has forgotten. We +don't mind, though, do we?" + +It was childishly spoken, but the pathos of it went straight to the +man's heart. He tasted the rice under her watching eyes and pronounced +it very good; then waited for her to follow his example which she did +with a slight shudder. + +"Delicious, Daddy, isn't it?" she said. And even he did not guess what +courage underlay the words. + +They kept up the farce till the pyramid was somewhat reduced; then by +mutual consent they suffered their ardour to flag. There was a faint +colour in the girl's thin face as she leaned back again. Her eyes were +brighter, the lids drooped less. + +"I had a dream last night, Daddy," she said, "such a curious dream, +and so vivid. I thought I was out on the mountains with some one. I +don't know who it was, but it was some one very nice. It seemed to be +very near the sunrise, for it was quite bright up above, though it was +almost dark where we stood. And, do you know--don't laugh, Daddy, +I know it was only a silly dream--when I looked up, I saw that +everywhere the mountains were full of horses and chariots of fire. I +felt so safe, Daddy, and so happy. I could have cried when I woke up." + +She paused. It was rather difficult for her to make conversation for +the silent man who sat beside her so gloomy and preoccupied. Save that +she loved her father as she loved no one else on earth, she might have +felt awed in his presence. + +As it was, receiving no response, she turned to look, and the next +instant was on her knees beside him, her thin young arms clinging to +his neck. + +"Daddy, darling, darling!" she whispered, and hid her face against him +in sudden, nameless terror. + +He clasped her to him, holding her close, that she might not again see +his face and the look it wore. She began to tremble, and he tried to +soothe her with his hand, but for many seconds he could find no words. + +"What is it, Daddy?" she whispered at last, unable to endure the +silence longer. "Won't you tell me? I can be very brave. You said so +yourself." + +"Yes," he said. "You will be a brave girl, I know." His voice quivered +and he paused to steady it. "Muriel," he said then, "I don't know if +you have ever thought of the end of all this. There will be an end, +you know. I have had to face it to-night." + +She looked up at him quickly, but he was ready for her. He had +banished from his face the awful despair that he carried in his soul. + +"When Sir Reginald Bassett comes--" she began uncertainly. + +He put his hand on her shoulder. "You will try not to be afraid," he +said. "I am going to treat you, as I have treated my officers, with +absolute candour. We shall not hold out more than three days more. Sir +Reginald Bassett will not be here in time." + +He stopped. Muriel uttered not a word. Her face was still upturned, +and her eyes had suddenly grown intensely bright, but he read no +shrinking in them. + +With an effort he forced himself to go on. "I may not be able to +protect you when the end comes. I may not even be with you. But--there +is one man upon whom you can safely rely whatever happens, who will +give himself up to securing your safety alone. He has sworn to me that +you shall not be taken, and I know that he will keep his word. You +will be safe with him, Muriel. You may trust him as long as you live. +He will not fail you. Perhaps you can guess his name?" + +He asked the question with a touch of curiosity in the midst of +his tragedy. That upturned, listening face had in it so little of a +woman's understanding, so much of the deep wonder of a child. + +Her answer was prompt and confident, and albeit her very lips were +white, there was a faint hint of satisfaction in her voice as she made +it. + +"Captain Grange, of course, Daddy." + +He started and looked at her narrowly. "No, no!" he said. "Not Grange! +What should make you think of him?" + +He saw a look of swift disappointment, almost of consternation, darken +her eyes. For the first time her lips quivered uncertainly. + +"Who then, Daddy? Not--not Mr. Ratcliffe?" + +He bent his head. "Yes, Nick Ratcliffe. I have placed you in his +charge. He will take care of you." + +"Young Nick Ratcliffe!" she said slowly. "Why, Daddy, he can't even +take care of himself yet. Every one says so. Besides,"--a curiously +womanly touch crept into her speech--"I don't like him. Only the other +day I heard him laugh at something that was terrible--something it +makes me sick to think of. Indeed, Daddy, I would far rather have +Captain Grange to take care of me. Don't you think he would if you +asked him? He is so much bigger and stronger, and--and kinder." + +"Ah! I know," her father said. "He seems so to you. But it is nerve +that your protector will need, child; and Ratcliffe possesses more +nerve than all the rest of the garrison put together. No, it must be +Ratcliffe, Muriel. And remember to give him all your trust, all your +confidence. For whatever he does will be with my authority--with +my--full--approval." + +His voice failed suddenly and he rose, turning sharply away from the +light. She clung to his arm silently, in a passion of tenderness, +though she was far from understanding the suffering those last words +revealed. She had never seen him thus moved before. + +After a few seconds he turned back to her, and bending kissed her +piteous face. She clung closely to him with an agonised longing to +keep him with her; but he put her gently from him at last. + +"Lie down again, dear," he said, "and get what rest you can. Try not +to be frightened at the noise. There is sure to be an assault, but the +fort will hold to-night." + +He stood a moment, looking down at her. Then again he stooped and +kissed her. "Good-bye, my darling," he said huskily, "till we meet +again!" + +And so hurriedly, as if not trusting himself to remain longer, he left +her. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE VICTIM OF TREACHERY + + +There came again the running rattle of rifle-firing from the valley +below the fort, and Muriel Roscoe, lying on her couch, pressed both +hands to her eyes and shivered. It seemed impossible that the end +could be so near. She felt as if she had existed for years in this +living nightmare of many horrors, had lain down and had slept with +that dreadful sound in her ears from the very beginning of things. The +life she had led before these ghastly happenings had become so vague a +memory that it almost seemed to belong to a previous existence, to an +earlier and a happier era. As in a dream she now recalled the vision +of her English school-life. It lay not a year behind her, but she felt +herself to have changed so fundamentally since those sunny, peaceful +days that she seemed to be a different person altogether. The Muriel +Roscoe of those days had been a merry, light-hearted personality. She +had revelled in games and all outdoor amusements. Moreover, she had +been quick to learn, and her lessons had never caused her any trouble. +A daring sprite she had been, with a most fertile imagination and a +longing for adventure that had never been fully satisfied, possessing +withal so tender and loving a heart that the very bees in the garden +had been among her cherished friends. She remembered all the sunny +ideals of that golden time and marvelled at herself, forgetting +utterly the eager, even passionate, craving that had then been hers +for the wider life, the broader knowledge, that lay beyond her reach, +forgetting the feverish impatience with which she had longed for +the day of her emancipation when she might join her father in the +wonderful glowing East which she so often pictured in her dreams. Of +her mother she had no memory. She had died at her birth. Her father +was all the world to her; and when at last he had travelled home on a +brief leave and taken her from her quiet English life to the strange, +swift existence of the land of his exile, her soul had overflowed with +happiness. + +Nevertheless, she had not been carried away by the gaieties of this +new world. The fascinations of dance and gymkhana had not caught her. +The joy of being with her father was too sacred and too precious to be +foregone for these lesser pleasures, and she very speedily decided to +sacrifice all social entertainments to which he could not accompany +her. She rode with him, camped with him, and became his inseparable +companion. Undeveloped in many ways, shy in the presence of strangers, +she soon forgot her earlier ambition to see the world and all that it +contained. Her father's society was to her all-sufficing, and it was +no sacrifice to her to withdraw herself from the gay crowd and dwell +apart with him. + +He had no wish to monopolise her, but it was a relief to him that the +constant whirl of pleasure about her attracted her so little. He liked +to have her with him, and it soon became a matter of course that she +should accompany him on all his expeditions. She revelled in his tours +of inspection. They were so many picnics to her, and she enjoyed them +with the zest of a child. + +And so it came to pass that she was with him among the hills of the +frontier when, like a pent flood suddenly escaping, the storm of +rebellion broke and seethed about them, threatening them with total +annihilation. + +No serious trouble had been anticipated. A certain tract of country +had been reported unquiet, and General Roscoe had been ordered to +proceed thither on a tour of inspection and also, to a very mild +degree, of intimidation. Marching through the district from fort to +fort, he had encountered no shadow of opposition. All had gone well. +And then, his work over, and all he set out to do satisfactorily +accomplished, his face towards India and his back to the mountains, +the unexpected had come upon him like a thunderbolt. + +Hordes of tribesmen, gathered Heaven knew how or whence, had suddenly +burst upon him from the south, had cut off his advance by sheer +immensity of numbers, and, hemming him in, had forced him gradually +back into the mountain fastnesses through which he had just passed +unmolested. + +It was a stroke so wholly new, so subtly executed, that it had won +success almost before the General had realised the weight of the +disaster that had come upon him. He had believed himself at first to +be involved in a mere fray with border thieves. But before he reached +the fort upon which he found himself obliged to fall back, he knew +that he had to cope with a general rising of the tribes, and that the +means at his disposal were as inadequate to stem the rising flood of +rebellion as a pebble thrown into a mountain stream to check its flow. + +The men under his command, with the exception of a few officers, were +all native soldiers, and he soon began to have a strong suspicion that +among these he numbered traitors. Nevertheless, he established himself +at the fort, determined there to make his stand till relief should +arrive. + +The telegraph wires were cut, and for a time it seemed that all +communication with the outside world was an impossibility. Several +runners were sent out, but failed to break through the besieging +forces. But at last after many desperate days there came a message +from without--a scrap of paper attached to a stone and flung over the +wall of the fort at night. News of the disaster had reached Peshawur, +and Sir Reginald Bassett, with a hastily collected force, was moving +to their assistance. + +The news put heart into the garrison, and for a time it seemed that +the worst would be averted. But it became gradually evident to General +Roscoe that the relieving force could not reach them in time. The +water supply had run very low, and the men were already subsisting +upon rations that were scarcely sufficient for the maintenance of +life. There was sickness among them, and there were also many wounded. +The white men were reduced to four, including himself, the native +soldiers had begun to desert, and he had been forced at last to face +the fact that the end was very near. + +All this had Muriel Roscoe come through, physically scathless, +mentally torn and battered, and she could not bring herself to realise +that the long-drawn-out misery of the siege could ever be over. + +Lying there, tense and motionless, she listened to the shots and yells +in the distance with a shuddering sense that it was all a part of her +life, of her very being, even. The torture and the misery had so eaten +into her soul. Now and then she heard the quick thunder of one of the +small guns that armed the fort, and at the sound her pulses leaped +and quivered. She knew that the ammunition was running very low. These +guns did not often speak now. + +Then, during a lull, there came to her the careless humming of a +British voice, the free, confident tread of British feet, approaching +her door. + +She caught her breath as a hand rapped smartly upon the panel. She +knew who the visitor was, but she could not bring herself to bid him +enter. A sudden awful fear was upon her. She could neither speak nor +move. She lay, listening intently, hoping against hope that he would +believe her to be sleeping and go away. + +The knock was not repeated. Dead silence reigned. And then quickly +and decidedly the door opened, and Nick Ratcliffe stood upon the +threshold. The light struck full upon his face as he halted--a clever, +whimsical face that might mask almost any quality good or bad. + +"May I come in, Miss Roscoe?" he asked. + +For she had not moved at his appearance. She lay as one dead. But as +he spoke she uncovered her face, and terror incarnate stared wildly at +him from her starting eyes. He entered without further ceremony, +and closed the door behind him. In the shaded lamplight his features +seemed to twitch as if he wanted to smile. So at least it seemed to +her wrought-up fancy. + +He gazed greedily at the plate of rice on the table as he came +forward. "Great Jupiter!" he said. "What a sumptuous repast!" + +The total freedom from all anxiety or restraint with which he made +this simple observation served to restore to some degree the girl's +tottering self-control. She sat up, sufficiently recovered to remember +that she did not like this man. + +"Pray have some if you want it," she said coldly. + +He turned his back on it abruptly. "No, don't tempt me," he said. +"It's a fast day for me. I'm acquiring virtue, being conspicuously +destitute of all other forms of comfort. Why don't you eat it +yourself? Are you acquiring virtue too?" + +He stood looking down at her quizzically, under rapidly flickering +eyelids. She sat silent, wishing with all her heart that he would go +away. + +Nothing, however, was apparently further from his thoughts. After a +moment he sat down in the chair that her father had occupied an hour +before. It was very close to her, and she drew herself slightly +away with a small, instinctive movement of repugnance. But Nick was +sublimely impervious to hints. + +"I say, you know," he said abruptly, "you shouldn't take opium. Your +donkey of an _ayah_ ought to know better than to let you have it." + +Muriel gave a great start. "I don't"--she faltered. "I--I--" + +He shook his head at her, as though reproving a child. "Pussy's out," +he observed. "It is no good giving chase. But really, you know, you +mustn't do it. You used to be a brave girl once, and now your nerves +are all to pieces." + +There was a species of paternal reproach in his tone. Looking at him, +she marvelled that she had ever thought him young and headlong. Almost +in spite of herself she began to murmur excuses. + +"I can't help it. I must have something. I don't sleep. I lie for +hours, listening to the fighting. It--it's more than I can bear." +Her voice quivered, and she turned her face aside, unable to hide her +emotion, but furious with herself for displaying it. + +Nick said nothing at all to comfort her, and she bitterly resented +his silence. After a pause he spoke again, as if he had banished the +matter entirely from his mind. + +"Look here," he said. "I want you to tell me something. I don't know +what sort of a fellow you think I am, though I fancy you don't like +me much. But you're not afraid of me, are you? You know I'm to be +trusted?" + +It was her single chance of revenge, and she took it. "I have my +father's word for it," she said. + +He nodded thoughtfully as if unaware of the thrust. "Yes, your father +knows me. And so"--he smiled at her suddenly--"you are ready to trust +me on his recommendation? You are ready to follow me blindfold through +danger if I give you my hand to hold?" + +She felt a sharp chill strike her heart. What was it he was asking of +her? What did those words of his portend? + +"I don't know," she said. "I don't see that it makes much difference +how I feel." + +"Well, it does," he assured her. "And that is exactly what I have +come to talk about. Miss Roscoe, will you leave the fort with me, +and escape in disguise? I have thought it all out, and it can be done +without much difficulty. I do not need to tell you that the idea has +your father's full approval." + +They were her father's own words, but at sound of them she shrank +and shivered, in sheer horror at the coolness with which they were +uttered. He might have been asking her to stroll with him in the leafy +quiet of some English lane. + +Could it be, she asked herself incredulously, could it be that her +father had ever sanctioned and approved so ghastly a risk for her? She +put her hand to her temples. Her brain was reeling. How could she do +this thing? How could she have permitted it to be even suggested to +her? And then, swift through her tortured mind flashed his words: +"There will be an end. I have had to face it to-night." Was it this +that he had meant? Was it for this that he had been preparing her? + +With a muffled exclamation she rose, trembling in every limb. "I +can't!" she cried piteously, "oh, I can't! Please go away!" + +It might have been the frightened prayer of a child, so beseeching +was it, so full of weakness. But Nick Ratcliffe heard it unmoved. He +waited a few seconds till she came to a stand by the table, her back +towards him. Then with a sudden quiet movement he rose and followed +her. + +"I beg your pardon," he said. "But you can't afford to shirk things +at this stage. I am offering you deliverance, though you don't realise +it." + +He spoke with force, and if his aim had been to rouse her to a more +practical activity, he gained his end. She turned upon him in swift +and desperate indignation. Her voice rang almost harsh. + +"How can you call it deliverance? It is at best a choice of two +horrible evils. You know perfectly well that we could never get +through. You must be mad to suggest such a thing. We should be made +prisoners and massacred under the very guns of the fort." + +"I beg your pardon," he said again, and his eyelids quivered a little +as if under the pressure of some controlled emotion. "We shall not be +made prisoners. I know what I am saying. It is deliverance that I am +offering you. Of course you can refuse, and I shall still do my +utmost to save you. But the chances are not equal. I hope you will not +refuse." + +The moderation of this speech calmed her somewhat. In her first wild +panic she had almost imagined that he could take her against her will. +She saw that she had been unreasonable, but she was too shaken to tell +him so. Moreover, there was still that about him, notwithstanding his +words, that made her afraid to yield a single inch of ground lest by +some hidden means he should sweep her altogether from her precarious +foothold. Even in the silence, she felt that he was doing battle with +her, and she did not dare to face him. + +With a childish gesture of abandonment, she dropped into a chair and +laid her head upon her arms. + +"Oh, please go away!" she besought him weakly. "I am so tired--so +tired." + +But Ratcliffe did not move. He stood looking down at her, at the black +hair that clustered about her neck, at the bowed, despairing figure, +the piteous, clenched hands. + +A little clock in the room began to strike in silvery tones, and he +glanced up. The next instant he bent and laid a bony hand upon her two +clasped ones. + +"Can't you decide?" he said. "Will you let me decide for you? Don't +let yourself get scared. You have kept so strong till now." Firmly +as he spoke, there was somehow a note of soothing in his voice, and +almost insensibly the girl was moved by it. She remained silent and +motionless, but the strong grip of his fingers comforted her subtly +notwithstanding. + +"Come," he said, "listen a moment and let me tell you my plan of +campaign. It is very simple, and for that reason it is going to +succeed. You are listening now?" + +His tone was vigorous and insistent. Muriel sat slowly up in response +to it. She looked down at the thin hand that grasped hers, and +wondered at its strength; but she lacked the spirit at that moment to +resent its touch. + +He leaned down upon the table, his face close to hers, and began to +unfold his plan. + +"We shall leave the fort directly the moon is down. I have a disguise +for you that will conceal your face and hair. And I shall fake as a +tribesman, so that my dearest friend would never recognise me. They +will be collecting the wounded in the dark, and I will carry you +through on my shoulder as if I had got a dead relation. You won't +object to playing a dead relation of mine?" + +He broke into a sudden laugh, but sobered instantly when he saw her +shrink at the sound. + +"That's about all the plan," he resumed. "There is nothing very +alarming about it, for they will never spot us in the dark. I'm as +yellow as a Chinaman already. We shall be miles away by morning. And I +know how to find my way afterwards." + +He paused, but Muriel made no comment. She was staring straight before +her. + +"Can you suggest any amendments?" he asked. + +She turned her head and looked at him with newly-roused aversion in +her eyes. She had summoned all her strength to the combat, realising +that now was the moment for resistance if she meant to resist. + +"No, Mr. Ratcliffe," she said, with a species of desperate firmness +very different from his own. "I have nothing to suggest. If you wish +to escape, you must go alone. It is quite useless to try to persuade +me any further. Nothing--nothing will induce me to leave my father." + +Whether or not he had expected this opposition was not apparent on +Nick's face. It betrayed neither impatience nor disappointment. + +"There would be some reason in that," he gravely rejoined, "if you +could do any good to your father by remaining. Of course I see your +point, but it seems to me that it would be harder for him to see you +starve with the rest of the garrison than to know that you had escaped +with me. A woman in your position is bound to be a continual burden +and anxiety to those who protect her. The dearer she is to them, so +much the heavier is the burden. Miss Roscoe, you must see this. You +are not an utter child. You must realise that to leave your father +is about the greatest sacrifice you can make for him at the present +moment. He is worn out with anxiety on your behalf, literally bowed +down by it. For his sake, you are going to do this thing, it being the +only thing left that you can do for him." + +There was more than persuasion in his voice. It held authority. But +Muriel heard it without awe. She had passed that stage. The matter +was too momentous to allow of weakness. She had strung herself to the +highest pitch of resistance as a hunted creature at bay. She threw +back her head, a look of obstinacy about her lips, her slight figure +straightened to the rigidity of defiance. + +"I will not be forced," she said, in sharp, uneven tones. "Mr. +Ratcliffe, you may go on persuading and arguing till doomsday. I will +not leave my father." + +Ratcliffe stood up abruptly. A curious glitter shone in his eyes, and +the light eyebrows twitched a little. She felt that he had suddenly +ceased to do battle with her, yet that the victory was not hers. And +for a second she was horribly frightened, as though an iron trap had +closed upon her and held her at his mercy. + +He walked to the door without speaking and opened it. She expected +him to go, sat waiting breathlessly for his departure, but instead he +stood motionless, looking into the dark passage. + +She wondered with nerves on edge what he was waiting for. Suddenly +she heard a step without, a few murmured words, and Nick stood on one +side. Her father's Sikh orderly passed him, carrying a tray on which +was a glass full of some dark liquid. He set it down on the table +before her with a deep salaam. + +"The General Sahib wishes Missy Sahib to have a good night," he said. +"He cannot come to her himself, but he sends her this by his servant, +and he bids her drink it and sleep." + +Muriel looked up at the man in surprise. Her father had never done +such a thing before, and the message astonished her not a little. +Then, remembering that he had shown some anxiety regarding her +appearance that evening, she fancied she began to understand. Yet +it was strange, it was utterly unlike him, to desire her to take an +opiate. She looked at the glass with hesitation. + +"Give him my love, Purdu," she said finally to the waiting orderly. +"Tell him I will take it if I cannot sleep without." + +The man bowed himself again and withdrew. To her disgust, however, +Nick remained. He was looking at her oddly. + +"Miss Roscoe," he said abruptly, "I beg you, don't drink that +stuff. Your father must be mad to offer it to you. Let me take the +beastliness away." + +She faced him indignantly. "My father knows what is good for me better +than you do," she said. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't profess to be a sage. But any +one will tell you that it is madness to take opium in this reckless +fashion. For Heaven's sake, be reasonable. Don't take it." + +He came back to the table, but at his approach she laid her hand upon +the glass. She was quivering with angry excitement. + +"I will not endure your interference any longer," she declared, goaded +to headlong, nervous fury by his persistence. "My father's wishes are +enough for me. He desires me to take it, and so I will." + +She took up the glass in a sudden frenzy of defiance. He had +frightened her--yes, he had frightened her--but he should see how +little he had gained by that. She took a taste of the liquid, then +paused, again assailed by a curious hesitancy. Had her father really +meant her to take it all? + +Nick had stopped short at her first movement, but as she began to +lower the glass in response to that disquieting doubt, he swooped +suddenly forward like a man possessed. + +For a fleeting instant she thought he was going to wrest it from her, +but in the next she understood--understood the man's deep treachery, +and with what devilish ingenuity he had worked upon her. Holding her +with an arm that felt like iron, he forced the glass back between her +teeth, and tilted the contents down her throat. She strove to resist +him, strove wildly, frantically, not to swallow the draught. But he +held her pitilessly. He compelled her, gripping her right hand with +the glass, and pinning the other to her side. + +When it was over, when he had worked his will and the hateful draught +was swallowed, he set her free and turned himself sharply from her. + +She sprang up trembling and hysterical. She could have slain him in +that instant had she possessed the means to her hand. But her strength +was more nearly exhausted than she knew. Her limbs doubled up under +her weight, and as she tottered, seeking for support, she realised +that she was vanquished utterly at last. + +She saw him wheel quickly and start to support her, sought to evade +him, failed--and as she felt his arms lift her, she cried aloud in +anguished helplessness. + +What followed dwelt ever after in her memory as a hideous dream, vivid +yet not wholly tangible. He laid her down upon the couch and bent over +her, his hands upon her, holding her still; for every muscle, every +nerve twitched spasmodically, convulsively, in the instinctive effort +of the powerless body to be free. She had a confused impression also +that he spoke to her, but what he said she was never able to recall. +In the end, her horror faded, and she saw him as through a mist +bending above her, grim and tense and silent, controlling her as it +were from an immense distance. And even while she yet dimly wondered, +he passed like a shadow from her sight, and wonder itself ceased. + +Half an hour later Nicholas Ratcliffe, the wit and clown of his +regiment, regarded by many as harebrained or wantonly reckless, +carried away from the beleaguered fort among the hostile mountains the +slight, impassive figure of an English girl. + +The night was dark, populated by terrors alive and ghastly. But he +went through it as one unaware of its many dangers. Light-footed and +fearless, he passed through the midst of his enemies, marching with +the sublime audacity of the dominant race, despising caution--yea, +grinning triumphant in the very face of Death. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DESOLATION + + +Out of a deep abyss of darkness in which she seemed to have wandered +ceaselessly and comfortlessly for many days, Muriel Roscoe came +haltingly back to the surface of things. She was very weak, so weak +that to open her eyes was an exertion requiring all her resolution, +and to keep them open during those first hours of returning life a +physical impossibility. She knew that she was not alone, for gentle +hands ministered to her, and she was constantly aware of some one who +watched her tirelessly, with never-failing attention. But she felt +not the smallest interest regarding this faithful companion, being +too weary to care whether she lived or fell away for ever down those +unending steeps up which some unseen influence seemed magnetically to +draw her. + +It was a stage of returning consciousness that seemed to last even +longer than the period of her wandering, but this also began to pass +at length. The light grew stronger all about her, the mists rolled +slowly away from her clogged brain, leaving only a drowsing languor +that was infinitely restful to her tired senses. + +And then while she lay half-dreaming and wholly content, a remorseless +hand began to bathe her face and head with ice-cold water. She awoke +reluctantly, even resentfully. + +"Don't!" she entreated like a child. "I am so tired. Let me sleep." + +"My poor dear, I know all about it," a motherly voice made answer. +"But it's time for you to wake." + +She did not grasp the words--only, very vaguely, their meaning; and +this she made a determined, but quite fruitless, effort to defy. In +the end, being roused in spite of herself, she opened her eyes and +gazed upwards. + +And all his life long Nick Ratcliffe remembered the reproach that +those eyes held for him. It was as if he had laid violent hands upon a +spirit that yearned towards freedom, and had dragged it back into the +sordid captivity from which it had so nearly escaped. + +But it was only for a moment that she looked at him so. The reproach +faded swiftly from the dark eyes and he saw a startled horror dawn +behind it. + +Suddenly she raised herself with a faint cry. "Where am I?" she +gasped. "What--what have you done with me?" + +She stared around her wildly, with unreasoning, nightmare terror. She +was lying on a bed of fern in a narrow, dark ravine. The place was +full of shadow, though far overhead she saw the light of day. At one +end, only a few yards from her, a stream rushed and gurgled among +great boulders, and its insistent murmur filled the air. Behind her +rose a great wall of grey rock, clothed here and there with some dark +growth. Its rugged face was dented with hollows that looked like the +homes of wild animals. There was a constant trickle of water on all +sides, an eerie whispering, remote but incessant. As she sat there in +growing panic, a great bat-like creature, immense and shadowy, swooped +soundlessly by her. + +She shrank back with another cry, and found Nick Ratcliffe's arm +thrust protectingly about her. + +"It's all right," he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You're not +frightened at flying-foxes, are you?" + +Recalled to the fact of his presence, she turned sharply, and flung +his arm away as though it had been a snake. "Don't touch me!" she +gasped, passionate loathing in voice and gesture. + +"Sorry," said Nick imperturbably. "I meant well." + +He began to busy himself with a small bundle that lay upon the ground, +whistling softly between his teeth, and for a few seconds Muriel sat +and watched him. He was dressed in a flowing native garment, that +covered him from head to foot. Out of the heavy enveloping folds his +smooth, yellow face looked forth, sinister and terrible to her fevered +vision. He looked like some evil bird, she thought to herself. + +Glancing down, she saw that she was likewise attired, save that +her head was bare. The hair hung wet on her forehead, and the water +dripped down her face. She put up her hand half-mechanically to wipe +the drops away. Her fear was mounting rapidly higher. + +She knew now what had happened. He had drugged her forcibly--she +shivered at the remembrance--and had borne her away to this dreadful +place during her unconsciousness. Her father was left behind in the +fort. He had sanctioned her removal. He had given her, a helpless +captive, into this man's keeping. + +But no! Her whole soul rose up in sudden fierce denial of this. He +had never done this thing. He had never given his consent to an act so +cowardly and so brutal. He was incapable of parting with her thus. He +could never have permitted so base a trick, so cruel, so outrageous, a +deed of treachery. + +Strength came suddenly to her--the strength of frenzy. She leaped to +her feet. She would escape. She would go back to him through all +the hordes of the enemy. She would face anything--anything in the +world--rather than remain at the mercy of this man. + +But--he had not been looking at her, and he did not look at her,--his +arm shot out as she moved, and his hand fastened claw-like upon her +dress. + +"Sorry," he said again, in the same practical tone. "But you'll have +something to eat before you go." + +She stooped and strove wildly, frantically, to shake off the detaining +hand. But it held her like a vice, with awful skeleton fingers that +she could not, dared not, touch. + +"Let me go!" she cried impotently. "How dare you? How dare you?" + +Still he did not raise his head. He was on his knees, and he would not +even trouble himself to rise. + +"I can't help myself," he told her coolly. "It's not my fault. It's +yours." + +She made a final, violent effort to wrest herself free. And then--it +was as if all power were suddenly taken from her--her strained nerves +gave way completely, and she dropped down upon the ground again in a +quivering agony of helplessness. + +Nick's hand fell away from her. "You shouldn't," he said gently. "It's +no good, you know." + +He returned to his former occupation while she sat with her face +hidden, in a stupor of fear, afraid to move lest he should touch her +again. + +"Now," said Nick, after a brief pause, "let me have the pleasure of +seeing you break your fast. There is some of that excellent boiled +rice of yours here. You will feel better when you have had some." + +She trembled at the sound of his voice. Could he make her eat also +against her will, she wondered? + +"Come!" said Nick again, in a tone of soft wheedling that he might +have employed to a fractious child. "It'll do you good, you know, +Muriel. Won't you try? Just a mouthful--to please me!" + +Reluctantly she uncovered her face, and looked at him. He was kneeling +in front of her, the _chuddah_ pushed back from his face, humbly +offering her an oatmeal biscuit with a small heap of rice piled upon +it. + +She drew back shuddering. "I couldn't eat anything--possibly," she +said, and even her voice seemed to shrink. "You can. You take it. I +would rather die." + +Nick did not withdraw his hand. "Take it, Muriel," he said quietly. +"It is going to do you good." + +She flashed him a desperate glance in which anger, fear, abhorrence, +were strongly mingled. He advanced the biscuit a little nearer. There +was a queer look on his yellow face, almost a bullying look. + +"Take it," he said again. + +And against her will, almost without conscious movement, she obeyed +him. The untempting morsel passed from his hand to hers, and under the +compulsion of his insistence she began to eat. + +She felt as if every mouthful would choke her, but she persevered, +urged by the dread certainty that he would somehow have his way. + +Not until the last fragment was gone did she feel his vigilance relax, +but he ate nothing himself though there remained several biscuits and +a very little of the rice. + +"You are feeling better?" he asked her then. + +A curious suspicion that he was waiting to tell her something made +her answer almost feverishly in the affirmative. It amounted to a +premonition of evil tidings, and instinctively her thoughts flew to +her father. + +"What is it?" she questioned nervously. "You have something to say." + +Nick's face was turned from her. He seemed to be gazing across the +ravine. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment. + +"Oh, what?" she broke in. "Tell me quickly--quickly! It is my father, +I know, I know. He has been hurt--wounded--" + +She stopped. Nick had lifted one hand as if to silence her. "My dear," +he said, his voice very low, "your father died last night--before we +left the fort." + +At her cry of agony he started up, and in a second he was on his +knees by her side and had gathered her to him as though she had been +a little child in need of comfort. She did not shrink from him in her +extremity. The blow had been too sudden, too overwhelming. It blotted +out all lesser sensibilities. In those first terrible moments she +did not think of Nick at all, was scarcely conscious of his presence, +though she vaguely felt the comfort of his arms. + +And he, holding her fast against his breast, found no consolation, no +word of any sort wherewith to soothe her. He only rocked her gently, +pressing her head to his shoulder, while his face, bent above her, +quivered all over as the face of a man in torture. + +Muriel spoke at last, breaking her stricken silence with a strangely +effortless composure. "Tell me more," she said. + +She stirred in his arms as if to free herself from some oppression, +and finally drew herself away from him, though not as if she wished to +escape his touch. She still seemed to be hardly aware of him. He was +the medium of her information, that was all. Nick dropped back into +his former attitude, his hands clasped firmly round his knees, his +eyes, keen as a bird's and extremely bright, gazing across the ravine. +His lips still quivered a little, but his voice was perfectly even and +quiet. + +"It happened very soon after the firing began. It must have been +directly after he left you. He was hit in the breast, just over the +heart. We couldn't do anything for him. He knew himself that it was +mortal. In fact, I think he had almost expected it. We took him into +the guardroom and made him as easy as possible. He lost consciousness +before he died. He was lying unconscious when I came to you." + +Muriel made a sharp movement. "And you never told me," she said, in a +dry whisper. + +"I thought it best," he answered with great gentleness. "You could not +have gone to him. He didn't wish it." + +"Why not?" she demanded, and suddenly her voice rang harsh again. "Why +could I not have gone to him? Why didn't he wish it?" + +Nick hesitated for a single instant. Then, "It was for your own sake," +he said, not looking at her. + +"You mean he suffered?" + +"While he remained conscious--yes." Nick spoke reluctantly. "It didn't +last long," he said. + +She scarcely seemed to hear him. "And so you tricked me," she said; +"you tricked me while my father was lying dying. I was not to see +him--either then or after--for my own sake! And do you think"--her +voice rising--"do you think that you were in any way justified in +treating me so? Do you think it was merciful to blind me and to take +from me all I should ever have of comfort to look back upon? Do you +think I couldn't have borne it all ten thousand times easier if I +could have seen and known the very worst? It was my right--it was +my right! How dared you take it from me? I will never forgive +you--never!" + +She was on her feet as the passionate protest burst from her, but she +swayed as she stood and flung out her arms with a groping gesture. + +"I could have borne it," she cried again wildly, piteously. "I could +have borne anything--anything--if I had only known!" + +She broke into a sudden, terrible sobbing, and threw herself +down headlong upon the earth, clutching at the moss with shaking, +convulsive fingers, and crying between her sobs for "Daddy! Daddy!" as +though her agony could pierce the dividing barrier and bring him +back to her. Nick made no further attempt to help her. He sat gazing +stonily out before him in a sphinx-like stillness that never varied +while the storm of her anguish spent itself at his side. + +Even after her sobs had ceased from sheer exhaustion he made no +movement, no sign that he was so much as thinking of her. + +Only when at last she raised herself with difficulty, and put the +heavy hair back from her disfigured face, did he turn slightly and +hold out to her a small tin cup. + +"It's only water," he said gently. "Have some." + +She took it almost mechanically and drank, then lay back with closed +eyes and burning head, sick and blinded by her paroxysm of weeping. + +A little later she felt his hands moving about her again, but she was +too spent to open her eyes. He bathed her face with a care equal to +any woman's, smoothed back her hair, and improvised a pillow for her +head. + +And afterwards she knew that he sat down by her, out of sight but +close at hand, a silent presence watching over her, till at last, worn +out with grief and the bitter strain of the past weeks, she sank into +natural, dreamless slumber, and slept for hours. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE DEVIL IN THE WILDERNESS + + +It was dark when Muriel awoke--so dark that she lay for a while +dreamily fancying herself in bed. But this illusion passed very +quickly as her brain, refreshed and active, resumed its work. The cry +of a jackal at no great distance roused her to full consciousness, and +she started up in the chill darkness, trembling and afraid. + +Instantly a warm hand grasped hers, and a low voice spoke. "It's all +right," said Nick. "I'm here." + +"Oh, isn't it dark?" she said. "Isn't it dark?" + +"Don't be frightened," he answered gently. "Come close to me. You are +cold." + +She crept to him shivering, thankful for the shielding arm he threw +around her. + +"The sunrise can't be far off," he said. "I expect you are hungry, +aren't you?" + +She was very hungry, and he put a biscuit into her hand. The very fact +of eating there in the darkness in some measure reassured her. She ate +several biscuits, and began to feel much better. + +"Getting warmer?" questioned Nick. "Let me feel your hands." They were +still cold, and he took them and thrust them down against his breast. +She shrank a little at the touch of his warm flesh. + +"It will make you so cold," she murmured. + +But he only laughed at her softly, and pressed them closer. "I am not +easily chilled," he said. "Besides, it's sleeping that makes you cold. +And I haven't slept." + +Muriel heard the news with astonishment. She was no longer angry with +Nick, and her fears of him were dormant. Though she would never forget +and might never forgive his treachery, he was her sole protector in +that wilderness of many terrors, and she lacked the resolution to keep +him at arm's length. There was, moreover, something comforting in his +presence, something that vastly reassured her, making her lean upon +him almost in spite of herself. + +"Haven't you slept at all?" she asked him in wonder. "How in the world +did you keep awake?" + +He did not answer her, only laughed again as though at some secret +joke. He seemed to be in rather good spirits, she noticed, and she +marvelled at him with a heavy pain at her heart that was utterly +beyond expression or relief. + +She sat silent for a little, then at length withdrew her hands, +assuring him that they were quite warm. + +"And I want to talk to you," she added, in a more practical tone than +she had previously managed to assume. "Mr. Ratcliffe, you may be in +command of this expedition, but I think you ought to tell me your +plans." + +"Call me Nick, won't you?" he said. "It'll make things easier. You are +quite welcome to know my plans, such as they are. I haven't managed +to develop anything very ingenious during all these hours. You see we +are, to a certain extent, at the mercy of circumstances. This place +isn't more than a dozen miles from the fort, and the hills all round +are infested with tribesmen. I hoped at first that we should get clear +in the night, but you were asleep, and on the whole it seemed best to +lie up for another day. We might make a bolt for it to-morrow night if +all goes well. I have a sort of instinct for these mountains. There is +always plenty of cover for those who know how to find it. It will be +slow progress, of course, but we will keep moving south, and, given +luck, we may fall in with Bassett's relief column before many days." + +So with much serenity he disclosed his plans, and Muriel marvelled +afresh at the confidence that buoyed him up. Was he really as +sublimely free from anxiety as he wished her to believe, she wondered? +It was difficult to think otherwise, even though he had admitted that +they were governed by circumstance. She began to think that there was +magic in him, some hidden reserve force upon which he could always +draw when all other resources failed. + +Another matter had also caught her attention, and this she presently +decided to investigate. She had never thought of Nick Ratcliffe as in +any sense a remarkable person before. + +"Did you actually carry me ten miles?" she asked. + +"Something very near it," said Nick. + +"How in the world did you do it?" Her interest was quickened. +Undoubtedly there was something uncanny in this man's strength. + +"You're not very heavy, you know," he said. + +His arm was still around her, and she suffered it; for the darkness +still frightened her when she allowed herself to think. + +"Have you had anything to eat?" she asked him next. + +"Not quite lately," said Nick. "I've been smoking. I wonder you didn't +notice it." + +His tone was somehow repressive, but she ignored it with a growing +temerity. After all, he did not seem such an alarming person on a +nearer acquaintance. + +"Does smoking do as well as eating?" she asked. + +"Much better," said Nick promptly. "Care to try?" + +She shook her head in the darkness. "I don't think you are telling the +truth," she said. + +"What?" said Nick. + +He spoke carelessly, but she did not repeat her assertion. A sudden +shyness descended upon her, and she became silent. Nick was quiet too, +and she wondered what was passing in his mind. But for the tenseness +of the arm that encircled her, she could have believed him to be +dozing. The silence was becoming oppressive when abruptly he broke it. + +"See!" he said. "Here comes the dawn!" + +She started and stared in front of her, seeing nothing. + +"Over to your left," said Nick. And turning she beheld a lightening of +the darkness high above them. + +She breathed a sigh of thankfulness, and watched it grow. It spread +rapidly. The walls of the ravine showed ghostly grey, then faintly +pink. Through the dimness the boulders scattered about the stream +stood up like mediaeval monsters, and for a few panic-stricken seconds +Muriel took the twining roots of a rhododendron close at hand for the +coils of a gigantic snake. Then as the ordinary light of day filtered +down into the gloomy place she sighed again with relief, and looked at +her companion. + +He was sitting with his chin on his hand, gazing across the ravine. He +did not stir or glance in her direction. His yellow face was seamed in +a thousand wrinkles. + +A vague misgiving assailed her as she looked at him. There was +something unnatural in his stillness. + +"Nick!" she said at length with hesitation. + +He turned sharply, and in an instant the ready grin leaped out upon +his face. "Good morning," he said lightly. "I was just thinking how +nice it would be to go down there and have a wash. We've got to pass +the time somehow, you know. Will you go first?" + +His gaiety baffled her, but she did not feel wholly reassured. She got +up slowly, and as she did so, her attention was caught by something +that sent a thrill of dismay through her. + +"Don't look at my feet, please," said Nick. "They won't bear +inspection at present." + +She turned horrified eyes to his face, as he thrust them down into a +bunch of fern. "How dreadful!" she exclaimed. "They are all cut and +gashed. I didn't know you were barefooted." + +"I wasn't," said Nick. "I've got some sandals here. Don't look like +that! You make me want to cry. I assure you it doesn't hurt in the +least." + +He grinned again as he uttered this cheerful lie, but Muriel was not +deceived. + +"You must let me bind them up," she said. + +"Not for the world," laughed Nick. "I couldn't walk with my feet +in poultice-bags, and we shall have some more rough marching to do +to-night. Now don't you worry. Run along like a good girl. I'm going +to say my prayers." + +It was flippantly spoken, but Muriel realised that it would be better +to obey. She turned about slowly, and began to make her way down to +the stream. + +The sunlight was beginning to slant through the ravine, and here and +there the racing water gleamed silvery. It was intensely refreshing to +kneel and bathe face and hands in its icy coldness. She lingered long +over it. Its sparkling purity seemed to reach and still the throbbing +misery at her heart. In some fashion it brought her peace. + +She would have prayed, but she felt she had no prayer to offer. She +had no favour to ask for herself, and her world was quite empty now. +She had no one in her heart for whom to pray. + +Yet for awhile she knelt dumb among the lifeless stones, her face +hidden, her thoughts with the father whose loss she had scarcely +begun to realise. It might be that God would understand and pity her +silence, she thought drearily to herself. + +The rush of the water drowned all sound but its own, and the memory +of Nick, waiting above, faded from her consciousness like a dream. Her +brain felt numb and heavy still. She did not want to think. She leaned +her head against a rock, closing her eyes. The continuous babble of +the stream was like a lullaby. + +Under its soothing influence she might have slept, a blessed +drowsiness was stealing over her, when suddenly there flashed through +her being a swift warning of approaching danger. Whence it came she +knew not, but its urgency was such that instinctively she started up +and looked about her. + +The next instant, with a sound half-gasp, half-cry, she was on +her feet, and shrinking back against her sheltering boulder in the +paralysis of a great horror. There, within a few yards of her and +drawing nearer, ever nearer, with a beast-like stealth, was a tall, +black-bearded tribesman. Transfixed by terror, she stood and gazed +at him, waiting dumbly, cold from head to foot, feeling as though her +very heart had turned to stone. + +Nearer he came, and yet nearer, soundlessly over the stones. His eyes, +gleaming, devilish, were to her as the eyes of a devouring monster. +In her agony she tried to shriek aloud, but her voice was gone, her +throat seemed locked. She was powerless. + +Close to her, for a single instant he paused; then, as in a lightning +flash, she saw the narrow, sinewy hand and snake-like arm dart forward +to seize her, felt every muscle in her body stiffen to rigidity in +anticipation of its touch, and shrank--shrank in every nerve though +she made no outward sign of shrinking. + +But on the instant, with a panther-like spring, sure, noiseless, +deadly, another figure leapt suddenly across her vision. There +followed a violent struggle in front of her, a confused swaying to and +fro, a cry choked instantly and terribly, the tinkling sound of steel +falling upon stone. And then both figures were on the ground almost +at her feet, locked together in mortal combat, fighting, fighting +like demons in a silence that throbbed with the tumult of unrestrained +savagery. + +Later she never could remember how long it took her to realise that +the second apparition was Nick, or if she had known it from the first. +She felt herself hovering upon the brink of a great emptiness, a void +immense, and yet all her senses were alive and tingling with horror. +With agonised perception of what was passing, she yet felt numbed: as +though her body were dead, but still contained a vital, tortured soul. + +And it was thus that she presently saw Nick's face bent above the +black-bearded face of his enemy; and remembered suddenly and horribly +a picture she had once seen of the devil in the wilderness. + +With his knees he was gripping the writhing body of his fallen foe. +With his hands--it came upon her as she watched with a shock of +anguished comprehension--he was deliberately and with deadly intention +choking out the man's life. + +"Curse you! Die!" she heard him say and his voice sounded like the +snarl of a wild beast. His upper lip was drawn back, the lower one was +between his teeth, and from it the blood dripped continuously upon his +hands and upon the dark throat he gripped. + +"Give me that knife!" he suddenly said, with an upward jerk of the +head. + +A dagger was lying almost within his reach, close to her foot. She +could have kicked it towards him had not her body been fast bound in +that deathly inertia. But her whole soul rose up in wild revolt at +the order. She tried to cry out, to implore him to have mercy, but +she could not make a sound. She could only stand in frozen horror, and +witness this awful thing. + +She saw Nick shift his grip to one hand and reach out with the other +for the weapon. He grasped it and recovered himself. A great darkness +was descending upon her, but it did not come at once. It hovered +before her eyes, and seemed to pass, and again she saw the horror +at her feet; saw Nick, bent to destroy like an eagle above his prey, +merciless, full of strength, terrible; saw the man beneath him, +writhing, convulsed, tortured; saw his upturned face, and starting +eyes; saw the sudden downward swoop of Nick's right hand, the flash of +the descending steel. + +In her agony she burst the spell that bound her, and shrieking turned +to flee from that awful sight. + +But even as she moved, the darkness came suddenly back upon her, +enveloping her, overwhelming her--a darkness that could be felt. For +a little she fought against it frantically, impotently. Then her feet +seemed to totter over the edge of a dreadful, formless silence. She +knew that she fell. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +WHEN STRONG MEN FAIL + + +"Wake up!" said Nick softly. "Wake up! Don't be afraid." + +But Muriel turned her face from the light with a moan. Memory winged +with horror was sweeping back upon her, and she wanted never to wake +again. + +"Wake up!" Nick said again, and this time there was insistence in his +voice. "Open your eyes, Muriel. There is nothing to frighten you." + +Shuddering, she obeyed him. She was lying once more upon her couch of +ferns, and he was stooping over her, looking closely into her face. +His eyes were extraordinarily bright, like the eyes of an eagle, but +the lids flickered so rapidly that he seemed to be looking through her +rather than at her. There was a wound upon his lower lip, and at the +sight she shuddered again, closing her eyes. She remembered that the +last time she had looked upon that face, it had been the face of a +devil. + +"Oh, go away! Go away!" she wailed. "Let me die!" + +"I will go away," he answered swiftly, "if you will promise to drink +what is in this cup." + +He pressed it against her hand, and she took it almost mechanically. +"It is only brandy and water," he said. "You will drink it?" + +"If I must," she answered weakly. + +"You must," he rejoined, and she heard him rise and move away. She +strained her ears to listen, but she very soon ceased to hear him; and +then raising herself cautiously, she drank. A warm thrill of life ran +through her veins with the draught, steadying her, refreshing her. But +it was long before she could bring herself to look round. + +The miniature roar of the stream was the only sound to be heard, and +when at length she glanced downwards there was no sign anywhere of +the ghastly spectacle she had just witnessed. She saw the rock behind +which she had knelt, and again a violent fit of shuddering assailed +her. What did that rock conceal? + +Nevertheless she presently took courage to rise, looking about her +furtively, half afraid that Nick might pop up at any moment to detain +her. For she felt that she could not stay longer in that place, +whatever he might say or do. The one idea that possessed her was to +get away from him, to escape from his horrible presence, whither she +neither knew nor cared. If he appeared to stop her then, she thought +that she would go raving mad. + +But she saw nothing of him as she stood there, and with deep relief +she began to creep away. Half a dozen yards she covered, and then +stood suddenly still with her heart in her throat. There, immediately +in front of her, flung prone upon the ground with his face on his +arms, was Nick. He did not move at her coming, did not seem to hear. +And the thought came to her to avoid him by a circuit, and yet escape. +But something--a queer, indefinable something--made her pause. Why was +he lying there? Had he been hurt in that awful struggle? Was he--was +he unconscious? Was he--dead? + +She fought back the impulse to fly, not for its unworthiness, but +because she felt that she must know. + +Trembling, she moved a little nearer to the prostrate, motionless +figure. + +"Nick!" she whispered under her breath. + +He made no sign. + +Her doubt turned to sudden, overmastering fear that pricked her +forward in spite of herself. + +"Nick!" she said again, and finding herself close to him she bent and +very slightly touched his shoulder. + +He moved then, and she almost gasped with relief. He turned his head +sharply without raising himself, and she saw the grim lines of his +lean cheek and jaw. + +"That you, Muriel?" he said, speaking haltingly, spasmodically. "I'm +awfully sorry. Fact is--I'm not well. I shall be--better--directly. Go +back, won't you?" + +He broke off, and lay silent, his hands clenched as if he were in +pain. + +Muriel stood looking down at him in consternation. It was her chance +to escape--a chance that might never occur again--but she had no +further thought of taking it. + +"What is it?" she asked him timidly, "Can I--do anything?" + +And then she suddenly saw what was the matter. It burst upon her--a +startling revelation. Possibly the sight of those skeleton fists +helped her to enlightenment. She turned swiftly and sped back to their +camping ground. + +In thirty seconds or less, she was back again and stooping over him +with a piece of brown bread in her hand. + +"Eat this," she ordered, in a tone of authority. + +Nick's face was hidden again. He seemed to be fighting with himself. +His voice came at length, muffled and indistinct. + +"No, no! Take it away! I'll have a drain of brandy. And I've got some +tobacco left." + +Muriel stooped lower. She caught the words though they were scarcely +audible. She laid her hand upon his arm, stronger in the moment's +emergency than she had been since leaving the fort. + +"You are to eat it," she said very decidedly. "You shall eat it. Do +you hear, Nick? I know what is the matter with you. You are starving. +I ought to have seen it before." + +Nick uttered a shaky laugh, and dragged himself up on to his elbows. +"I'm not starving," he declared. "Take it away, Muriel. Do you think +I'm going to eat your luncheon, tea, and dinner, and to-morrow's +breakfast as well?" + +"You are going to eat this," she answered. + +He flashed her a glance of keen curiosity. "Am I?" he said. + +"You must," she said, speaking with an odd vehemence which later +surprised herself. "Why should you go out of your way to tell me a +lie? Do you think I can't see?" + +Nick raised himself slowly. Something in the situation seemed to have +deprived him of his usual readiness. But he would not take the bread, +would not even look at it. + +"I'm better now," he said. "We'll go back." + +Muriel stood for a second irresolute, then sharply turned her back. +Nick sat and watched her in silence. Suddenly she wheeled. "There!" +she said. "I've divided it. You will eat this at least. It's absurd of +you to starve yourself. You might as well have stayed in the fort to +do that." + +This was unanswerable. Nick took the bread without further protest. +He began to eat, marvelling at his own docility; and suddenly he knew +that he was ravenous. + +There was very little left when at length he looked up. + +"Show me what you have saved for yourself," he said. + +But Muriel backed away with a short, hysterical laugh. + +He started to his feet and took her rudely by the shoulder. "Do +you mean to say--" he began, almost with violence; and then checked +himself, peering at her with fierce, uncertain eyes. + +She drew away from him, all her fears returning upon her in a flood; +but at her movement he set her free and turned his back. + +"Heaven knows what you did it for," he said, seeming to control his +voice with some difficulty. "It wasn't for your own sake, and I won't +presume to think it was for mine. But when the time comes for handing +round rewards, may it be remembered that your offering was something +more substantial than a cup of cold water." + +He broke off with a queer sound in the throat, and began to move away. + +But Muriel followed him, an unaccountable sense of responsibility +overcoming her reluctance. + +"Nick!" she said. + +He stood still without turning. She had a feeling that he was putting +strong restraint upon himself. With an effort she forced herself to +continue. + +"You want sleep, I know. Will you--will you lie down while I watch?" + +He shook his head without looking at her. + +"But I wish it," she persisted. "I can wake you if--anything happens." + +"You wouldn't dare," said Nick. + +"I suppose that means you are afraid to trust me," she said. + +He turned at that. "It means nothing of the sort. But you've had one +scare, and you may have another. I think myself that that fellow was +a scout on the look-out for Bassett's advance guard. But Heaven only +knows what brought him to this place, and there may be others. That's +why I didn't dare to shoot." + +He paused, his light eyebrows raised, surveying her questioningly; for +Muriel had suddenly covered her face with both hands. But in another +moment she looked up again, and spoke with an effort. + +"Your being awake couldn't lessen the danger. Won't you--please--be +reasonable about it? I am doing my best." + +There was a deep note of appeal in her voice, and abruptly Nick gave +in. + +He moved back to their resting-place without another word, and flung +himself face downwards beside the nest of fern that he had made for +her, lying stretched at full length like a log. + +She had not expected so sudden and complete a surrender. It took her +unawares, and she stood looking down at him, uncertain how to proceed. + +But after a few seconds he turned his head towards her and spoke. + +"You'll stay by me, Muriel?" + +"Of course," she answered, that unwonted sense of responsibility still +strongly urging her. + +He murmured something unintelligible, and stirred uneasily. She knew +in a flash what he wanted, but a sick sense of dread held her back. +She felt during the silence that followed as though he were pleading +with her, urging her, even entreating her. Yet still she resisted, +standing near him indeed, but with a desperate reluctance at her +heart, a shrinking unutterable from the bare thought of any closer +proximity to him that was as the instinctive recoil of purity from a +thing unclean. + +The horror of his deed had returned upon her over-whelmingly with his +brief reference to it. His lack of emotion seemed to her as hideous +callousness, more horrible than the deed itself. His physical +exhaustion had called her out of herself, but the reaction was doubly +terrible. + +Nick said no more. He lay quite motionless, hardly seeming to breathe, +and she realised that there was no repose in his attitude. He was not +even trying to rest. + +She wrung her hands together. It could not go on, this tension. Either +she must yield to his unspoken desire, or he would sit up and cry +off the bargain. And she knew that sleep was a necessity to him. +Common-sense told her that he was totally unfit for further hardship +without it. + +She closed her eyes a moment, summoning all her strength for the +greatest sacrifice she had ever made. And then in silence she sat down +beside him, within reach of his hand. + +He uttered a great sigh and suffered his whole body to relax. And she +knew by the action, though he did not speak a word, that she had set +his mind at rest. + +Scarcely a minute later, his quiet breathing told her that he slept, +but she sat on by his side without moving during the long empty hours +of her vigil. He had trusted her without a question, and, as her +father's daughter, she would at whatever cost prove herself worthy of +his trust. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE COMING OF AN ARMY + + +Through a great part of the night that followed they tramped steadily +southward. The stars were Nick's guide, though as time passed he began +to make his way with the confidence of one well-acquainted with his +surroundings. The instinct of locality was a sixth sense with him. +Hand in hand, over rocky ground, through deep ravines, by steep and +difficult tracks, they made their desperate way. Sometimes in the +distance dim figures moved mysteriously, revealed by starlight, +but none questioned or molested them. They passed from rock to rock +through the heart of the enemy's country, unrecognised, unobserved. +There were times when Nick grasped his revolver under his disguise, +ready, ready at a moment's notice, to keep his word to the girl's +father, should detection be their portion; but each time as the danger +passed them by he tightened his hold upon her, drawing her forward +with greater assurance. + +They scarcely spoke throughout the long, long march. Muriel had moved +at first with a certain elasticity, thankful to escape at last from +the horrors of their resting-place. But very soon a great weariness +came upon her. She was physically unfit for any prolonged exertion. +The long strain of the siege had weakened her more than she knew. + +Nevertheless, she kept on bravely, uttering no complaint, urged to +utmost effort by the instinctive desire to escape. It was this one +idea that occupied all her thoughts during that night. She shrank with +a vivid horror from looking back. And she could not see into the dim +blank future. It was mercifully screened from her sight. + +At her third heavy stumble, Nick stopped and made her swallow some +raw brandy from his flask. This buoyed her up for a while, but it was +evident to them both that her strength was fast failing. And presently +he stopped again, and without a word lifted her in his arms. She +gasped a protest to which he made no response. His arms compassed +her like steel, making her feel helpless as an infant. He was limping +himself, she noticed; yet he bore her strongly, without faltering, +sure-footed as a mountain goat over the broken ground, till he found +at length what he deemed a safe halting-place in a clump of stunted +trees. + +The sunrise revealed a native village standing among rice and cotton +fields in the valley below them. + +"I shall have to go foraging," Nick said. + +But Muriel's nerves that had been tottering on the verge of +collapse for some time here broke down completely. She clung to him +hysterically and entreated him not to leave her. + +"I can't bear it! I can't bear it!" she kept reiterating. "If you go, +I must go too. I can't--I can't stay here alone." + +He gave way instantly, seeing that she was in a state of mind that +bordered upon distraction, and that he could not safely leave her. He +sat down beside her, therefore, making her as comfortable as he could; +and she presently slept with her head upon his shoulder. It was but +a broken slumber, however, and she awoke from it crying wildly that +a man was being murdered--murdered--murdered--and imploring him with +agonised tears to intervene. + +He quieted her with a steady insistence that gained its end, though +she crouched against him sobbing for some time after. As the sun rose +higher her fever increased, but she remained conscious and suffering +intensely, all through the heat of the day. Then, as the evening drew +on, she slipped into a heavy stupor. + +It was the opportunity Nick had awaited for hours, and he seized it. +Laying her back in the deep shadow of a boulder, he went swiftly down +into the valley. The last light was passing as he strode through the +village, a gaunt, silent figure in a hillman's dress, a native dagger +in his girdle. Save that he had pulled the _chuddah_ well over his +face, he attempted no concealment. + +He glided by a ring of old men seated about a fire, moving like a +shadow through the glare. They turned to view him, but he had already +passed with the tread of a wolf, and the mud wall of one of the +cottages hid him from sight. + +Into this hut he dived as though some instinct guided him. He paid no +heed to a woman on a string-bedstead with a baby at her breast, who +chattered shrilly at his entrance. Preparations for a meal were +in progress, and he scarcely paused before he lighted upon what he +sought. A small earthen pitcher stood on the mud floor. He swooped +upon it, caught it up, splashing milk in all directions, clapped his +hand yellow and claw-like upon the mouth, and was gone. + +There arose a certain hue and cry behind him, but he was swiftly +beyond detection, a fleeing shadow up the hillside. And the baffled +villagers, returning, found comfort in the reflection that he was +doubtless a holy man and that his brief visit would surely entail a +blessing. + +By the time they arrived at this conclusion, Nick was kneeling by the +girl's side, supporting her while she drank. The nourishment revived +her. She came to herself, and thanked him. + +"You will have some too," said she anxiously. + +And Nick drank also with a laugh and a joke to cloak his eagerness. +That draught of milk was more to him at that moment than the choicest +wine of the gods. + +He sat down beside her again when he had thus refreshed himself. He +thought that she was drowsy, and was surprised when presently she laid +a trembling hand upon his arm. + +He bent over her quickly. "What is it? Anything I can do?" + +She did not shrink from him any longer. He could but dimly see her +face in the strong shadow cast by the moonlight behind the trees. + +"I want just to tell you, Nick," she said faintly, "that you will have +to go on without me when the moon sets. You needn't mind about leaving +me any more. I shall be dead before the morning comes. I'm not afraid. +I think I'm rather glad. I am so very, very tired." + +Her weak voice failed. + +Nick was stooping low over her. He did not speak at once. He only took +the nerveless hand that lay upon his arm and carried it to his lips, +breathing for many seconds upon the cold fingers. + +When at length he spoke, his tone was infinitely gentle, but it +possessed, notwithstanding, a certain quality of arresting force. + +"My dear," he said, "you belong to me now, you know. You have been +given into my charge, and I am not going to part with you." + +She did not resist him or attempt to withdraw her hand, but her +silence was scarcely the silence of acquiescence. When she spoke again +after a long pause, there was a piteous break in her voice. + +"Why don't you let me die? I want to die. Why do you hold me back?" + +"Why?" said Nick swiftly. "Do you really want me to tell you why?" + +But there he checked himself with a sharp, indrawn breath. The next +instant he laid her hand gently down. + +"You will know some day, Muriel," he said. "But for the present you +will have to take my reason on trust. I assure you it is a very good +one." + +The restraint of his words was marked by a curious vehemence, but this +she was too ill at the time to heed. She turned her face away almost +fretfully. + +"Why should I live?" she moaned. "There is no one wants me now." + +"That will never be true while I live," Nick answered steadily, and +his tone was the tone of a man who registers a vow. + +But again she did not heed him. She had suffered too acutely and +too recently to be comforted by promises. Moreover, she did not want +consolation. She wanted only to shut her eyes and die. In her weakness +she had not fancied that he could deny her this. + +And so when presently he roused her by lifting her to resume the +journey, she shed piteous tears upon his shoulder, imploring him to +leave her where she was. He would not listen to her. He knew that it +was highly dangerous to rest so close to habitation, and he would not +risk another day in such precarious shelter. + +So for hours he carried her with a strength almost superhuman, forcing +his physical powers into subjection to his will. Though limping badly, +he covered several miles of wild and broken country, deserted for the +most part, almost incredibly lonely, till towards sunrise he found a +resting-place in a hollow high up the side of a mountain, overlooking +a winding, desolate pass. + +Muriel was either sleeping or sunk in the stupor of exhaustion. There +was some brandy left in his flask, and he made her take a little. But +it scarcely roused her, and she was too weak to notice that he did not +touch any himself. + +All through the scorching day that followed, she dozed and woke in +feverish unrest, sometimes rambling incoherently till he brought her +gravely back, sometimes crying weakly, sometimes making feeble efforts +to pray. + +All through the long, burning hours he never stirred away from her. He +sat close to her, often holding her in his arms, for she seemed less +restless so; and perpetually he gazed out with terrible, bloodshot +eyes over the savage mountains, through the long, irregular line of +pass, watching eagle-like, tireless and intent, for the deliverance +which, if it came at all, must come that way. His face was yellow and +sunken, lined in a thousand wrinkles like the face of a monkey; but +his eyes remained marvellously bright. They looked as if they had not +slept for years, as if they would never sleep again. He was at the end +of his resources and he knew it, but he would watch to the very end. +He would die watching. + +As the sun sank in a splendour that transfigured the eternally white +mountain-crest to a mighty shimmer of rose and gold, he turned at last +and looked down at the white face pillowed upon his arm. The eyes were +closed. The ineffable peace of Death seemed to dwell upon the quiet +features. She had lain so for a long time, and he had fancied her +sleeping. + +He caught his breath, feeling for his flask, and for the first time +his hands shook uncontrollably. But as the raw spirit touched her +lips, he saw her eyelids quiver, and a great gasp of relief went +through him. As she opened her eyes he stayed his hand. It seemed +cruel to bring her back. But the suffering and the half instinctive +look of horror passed from her eyes like a shadow, as they rested upon +him. There was even the very faint flicker of a smile about them. + +She turned her face slightly towards him with the gesture of a child +nestling against his breast. Yet though she lay thus in his arms, he +felt keenly, bitterly, that she was very far away from him. + +He hung over her, still holding himself in with desperate strength, +not daring to speak lest he should disturb the holy peace that seemed +to be drawing all about her. + +The sunset glory deepened. For a few seconds the crags above them +glittered golden as the peaks of Paradise. And in the wonderful +silence Muriel spoke. + +"Do you see them?" she said. + +He saw that her eyes were turned upon the shining mountains. There was +a strange light on her face. + +"See what, darling?" he asked her softly. + +Her eyes came back to him for a moment. They had a thoughtful, +wondering look. + +"How strange!" she said slowly. "I thought it was--an eagle." + +The detachment of her tone cut him to the heart. And suddenly the pain +of it was more than he could bear. + +"It is I--Nick," he told her, with urgent emphasis. "Surely you know +me!" + +But her eyes had passed beyond him again. "Nick?" she questioned to +herself. "Nick? But this--this was an eagle." + +She was drawing away from him, and he could not hold her, could not +even hope to follow her whither she went. A great sob broke from him, +and in a moment, like the rush of an overwhelming flood from behind +gates long closed, the anguish of the man burst its bonds. + +"Muriel!" he cried passionately. "Muriel! Stay with me, look at +me, love me! There is nothing in the mountains to draw you. It is +here--here beside you, touching you, holding you. O God," he prayed +brokenly, "she doesn't understand me. Let her understand,--open her +eyes,--make her see!" + +His agony reached her, touched her, for a moment held her. She turned +her eyes back to his tortured face. + +"But, Nick," she said softly, "I can see." + +He bent lower. "Yes?" he said, in a choked voice. "Yes?" + +She regarded him with a faint wonder. Her eyes were growing heavy, as +the eyes of a tired child. She raised one hand and pointed vaguely. + +"Over there," she said wearily. "Can't you see them? Then perhaps it +was a dream, or even--perhaps--a vision. Don't you remember how +it went? 'And behold--the mountain--was full--of horses--and +chariots--of--fire!' God sent them, you know." + +The tired voice ceased. Her head sank lower upon Nick's breast. She +gave a little quivering sigh, and seemed to sleep. + +And Nick turned his tortured eyes upon the pass below him, and stared +downwards spellbound. + +Was he dreaming also? Or was it perchance a vision--the trick of his +fevered fancy? There, at his feet, not fifty yards from where he sat, +he beheld men, horses, guns, winding along in a narrow, unbroken line +as far as he could see. + +A great surging filled his ears, and through it he heard himself shout +once, twice, and yet a third time to the phantom army below. + +The surging swelled in his brain to a terrific tumult--a confusion +indescribable. And then something seemed to crack inside his head. +The dark peaks swayed giddily against the darkening sky, and toppled +inwards without sound. + +The last thing he knew was the call of a bugle, tense and shrill as +the buzz of a mosquito close to his ear. And he laughed aloud to think +how so small a thing had managed to deceive him. + + + + +PART II + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +COMRADES + + +The jingling notes of a piano playing an air from a comic opera +floated cheerily forth into the magic silence of the Simla pines, and +abruptly, almost spasmodically, a cracked voice began to sing. It was +a sentimental ditty treated jocosely, and its frivolity rippled out +into the mid-day silence with something of the effect of a monkey's +chatter. The _khitmutgar_ on the verandah would have looked +scandalised or at best contemptuous had it not been his role to +express nothing but the dignified humility of the native servant. +He was waiting for his mistress to come out of the nursery where her +voice could be heard talking imperiously to her baby's _ayah_. He had +already waited some minutes, and he would probably have waited much +longer, for his patience was inexhaustible, had it not been for that +sudden irresponsible and wholly tuneless burst of song. But the +second line was scarcely ended before she came hurriedly forth, nearly +running into his stately person in her haste. + +"Oh, dear, Sammy!" she exclaimed with some annoyance. "Why didn't you +tell me Captain Ratcliffe was here?" + +She hastened past him along the verandah with the words, not troubling +about his explanation, and entered the room whence the music proceeded +at a run. + +"My dear Nick," she cried impulsively, "I had no idea!" + +The music ceased in a jangle of wrong notes, and Nick sprang to his +feet, his yellow face wearing a grin of irrepressible gaiety. + +"So I gathered, O elect lady," he rejoined, seizing her outstretched +hands and kissing first one and then the other. "And I took the first +method that presented itself of making myself known. So they beguiled +you to Simla, after all?" + +"Yes, I had to come for my baby's sake. They thought at first it would +have to be home and no compromise. I'm longing to show him to you, +Nick. Only six months, and such a pet already! But tell me about +yourself. I am sure you have come off the sick list too soon. You +look as if you had come straight from a lengthy stay with the +_bandar-log_." + +"_Tu quoque!_" laughed Nick. "And with far less excuse. Only you +manage to look charming notwithstanding, which is beyond me. Do you +know, Mrs. Musgrave, you don't do justice to the compromise? I should +be furious with you if I were Will." + +Mrs. Musgrave frowned at him. She was a very pretty woman, possessing +a dainty and not wholly unconscious charm. "Tell me about yourself, +Nick," she commanded. "And don't be ridiculous. You can't possibly +judge impartially on that head, as you haven't the smallest idea as to +how ill I have been. I am having a rest cure now, you must know, and I +don't go anywhere; or I should have come to see you in hospital." + +"Good thing you didn't take the trouble," said Nick. "I've been +sleeping for the last three weeks, and I am only just awake." + +Mrs. Musgrave looked at him with a very friendly smile. "Poor Nick!" +she said. "And Wara was relieved after all." + +He jerked up his shoulders. "After a fashion. Grange was the only +white man left, and he hadn't touched food for three days. If Muriel +Roscoe had stayed, she would have been dead before Bassett got +anywhere near them. There are times when the very fact of suffering +actively keeps people alive. It was that with her." + +He spoke briefly, almost harshly, and immediately turned from the +subject. "I suppose you were very anxious about your cousin?" + +"Poor Blake Grange? Of course I was. But I was anxious--horribly +anxious--about you all." There was a quiver of deep feeling in Mrs. +Musgrave's voice. + +"Thank you," said Nick. He reached out a skeleton finger and laid it +on her arm. "I thought you would be feeling soft-hearted, so I have +come to ask you a favour. Not that I shouldn't have come in any case, +but it seemed a suitable moment to choose." + +Mrs. Musgrave laughed a little. "Have you ever found me anything but +kind?" she questioned. + +"Never," said Nick. "You're the best pal I ever had, which is the +exact reason for my coming here to-day. Mrs. Musgrave, I want you to +be awfully good to Muriel Roscoe. She needs some one to help her along +just now." + +Mrs. Musgrave opened her eyes wide, but she said nothing at once, for +Nick had sprung to his feet and was restlessly pacing the room. + +"Come back, Nick," she said at last. "Tell me a little about her. We +have never met, you know. And why do you ask this of me when she is in +Lady Bassett's care?" + +"Lady Bassett!" said Nick. He made a hideous grimace, and said no +more. + +Mrs. Musgrave laughed. "How eloquent! Do you hate her, too, then? I +thought all men worshipped at that shrine." + +Nick came back and sat down. "I nearly killed her once," he said. + +"What a pity you didn't quite!" ejaculated Mrs. Musgrave. + +Nick grinned. "Sits the wind in that quarter? I wonder why." + +"Oh, I hate her by instinct," declared Mrs. Musgrave recklessly, +"though her scented notes to me always begin, 'Dearest Daisy'! She +always disapproved of me openly till baby came. But she has found +another niche for me now. I am not supposed to be so fascinating as I +was. She prefers unattractive women." + +"Gracious heaven!" interjected Nick. + +"Yes, you may laugh. I do myself." Daisy Musgrave spoke almost +fiercely notwithstanding. "She's years older than I am anyhow, and I +shall score some day if I don't now. Have you ever watched her dance? +There's a sort of snaky, coiling movement runs up her whole body. +Goodness!" breaking off abruptly. "I'm getting venomous myself. I had +better stop before I frighten you away." + +"Oh, don't mind me!" laughed Nick. "No one knows better than I +that she is made to twist all ways. She hates me as a cobra hates a +mongoose." + +"Really?" Daisy Musgrave was keenly interested. "But why?" + +He shook his head. "You had better ask Lady Bassett. It may be +because I had the misfortune to set fire to her once. It is true I +extinguished her afterwards, but I don't think she enjoyed it. It was +a humiliating process. Besides, it spoilt her dress." + +"But she is always so gracious to you," protested Daisy. + +"Honey-sweet. That's exactly how I know her cobra feelings. And that +brings me round to Muriel Roscoe again, and the favour I have to ask." + +Daisy shot him a sudden shrewd glance. "Do you want to marry her?" she +asked him point blank. + +Nick's colourless eyebrows went up till they nearly met his colourless +hair. "Dearest Daisy," he said, "you are a genius. I mean to do that +very thing." + +Daisy got up and softly closed the window. "Surely she is very young," +she said. "Is she in love with you?" + +She did not turn at the sound of his laugh. She had almost expected +it. For she knew Nick Ratcliffe as very few knew him. The bond of +sympathy between them was very strong. + +"Can you imagine any girl falling in love with me?" he asked. + +"Of course I can. You are not so unique as that. There isn't a man in +the universe that some woman couldn't be fool enough to love." + +"Many thanks!" said Nick. "Then--I may count upon your support, may +I? I know Lady Bassett will put a spoke in my wheel if she can. But I +have Sir Reginald's consent. He is Muriel's guardian, you know. Also, +I had her father's approval in the first place. It has got to be soon, +you see, Daisy. The present state of affairs is unbearable. She will +be miserable with Lady Bassett." + +Daisy still stood with her back to him. She was fidgeting with the +blind-cord, her pretty face very serious. + +"I am not sure," she said slowly, "that it lies in my power to help +you. Of course I am willing to do my best, because, as you say, we are +pals. But, Nick, she is very young. And if--if she really doesn't love +you, you mustn't ask me to persuade her." + +Nick sprang up impulsively. "Oh, but you don't understand," he said +quickly. "She would be happy enough with me. I would see to that. I--I +would be awfully good to her, Daisy." + +She turned swiftly at the unwonted quiver in his voice. "My dear +Nick," she said earnestly, "I am sure of it. You could make any woman +who loved you happy. But no one--no one--knows the misery that may +result from a marriage without love on both sides--except those who +have made one." + +There was something almost passionate in her utterance. But she turned +if off quickly with a smile and a friendly hand upon his arm. + +"Come," she said lightly. "I want to show you my boy. I left him +almost in tears. But he always smiles when he sees his mother." + +"Who doesn't?" said Nick gallantly, following her lead. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE SCHOOL OF SORROW + + +The aromatic scent of the Simla pines literally encircled and pervaded +the Bassetts' bungalow, penetrating to every corner. Lady Bassett was +wont to pronounce it "distractingly sweet," when her visitors drew +her attention to the fact. Hers was among the daintiest as well as the +best situated bungalows in Simla, and she was pleasantly aware of +a certain envy on the part of her many acquaintances, which added +a decided relish to the flavour of her own appreciation. But +notwithstanding this, she was hardly ever to be found at home except +by appointment. Her social engagements were so numerous that, as she +often pathetically remarked, she scarcely ever enjoyed the luxury of +solitude. As a hostess she was indefatigable, and being an excellent +bridge-player as well as a superb dancer, it was not surprising that +she occupied a fairly prominent position in her own select circle. +In appearance she was a woman of about five-and-thirty--though the +malicious added a full dozen years more to her credit--with fair hair, +a peculiarly soft voice, and a smile that was slightly twisted. She +was always exquisitely dressed, always cool, always gentle, never +hasty in word or deed. If she ever had reason to rebuke or snub, it +was invariably done with the utmost composure, but with deadly effect +upon the offender. Lady Bassett was generally acknowledged to be +unanswerable at such times by all but the very few who did not fear +her. + +There were not many who really felt at ease with her, and Muriel +Roscoe was emphatically not one of the number. Her father had +nominated Sir Reginald her guardian, and Sir Reginald, aware of this +fact, had sent her at once to his wife at Simla. The girl had been too +ill at the time to take any interest in her destination or ultimate +disposal. It was true that she had never liked Lady Bassett, that she +had ever felt shy and constrained in her presence, and that, had she +been consulted, she would probably have asked to be sent to England. +But Sir Reginald had been too absorbed in the task before him to spend +much thought on his dead comrade's child at that juncture, and he +had followed the simplest course that presented itself, allowing Nick +Ratcliffe to retain the privilege which General Roscoe himself had +bestowed. Thus Muriel had come at last into Lady Bassett's care, and +she was only just awaking to the fact that it was by no means the +guardianship she would have chosen for herself had she been in a +position to choose. As the elasticity of her youth gradually asserted +itself, and the life began to flow again in her veins, the power to +suffer returned to her, and in the anguish of her awakening faculties +she knew how utterly she was alone. It was in one sense a relief that +Lady Bassett, being caught in the full swing of the Simla season, was +unable to spare much of her society for the suddenly bereaved girl who +had been thrust upon her. But there were times during that period of +dragging convalescence when any presence would have been welcome. + +She was no longer acutely ill, but a low fever hung about her, a +species of physical inertia against which she had no strength to +struggle. And often she wondered to herself with a dreary amazement, +why she still lived, why she had survived the horrors of that flight +through the mountains, why she had been thus, as it were, cast up upon +a desert rock when all that had made life good in her eyes had been +ruthlessly swept away. At such times there would come upon her a +loneliness almost unthinkable, a shrinking more terrible than the fear +of death, and the future would loom before her black as night, a blank +and awful desert which she felt she could never dare to travel. + +Sometimes in her dreams there would come to her other visions--visions +of the gay world that throbbed so close to her, the world she had +entered with her father so short a time before. She would hear again +the hubbub of laughing voices, the music, the tramp of dancing feet. +And she would start from her sleep to find only a great emptiness, a +listening silence, an unspeakable desolation. + +If she ever thought of Nick in those days, it was as a phantom that +belonged to the nightmare that lay behind her. He had no part in her +present, and the future she could not bring herself to contemplate. No +one even mentioned his name to her till one day Lady Bassett entered +her room before starting for a garden-party at Vice-Regal Lodge, a +faint flush on her cheeks, and her blue eyes brighter than usual. + +"I have just received a note from Captain Ratcliffe, dear Muriel," +she said. "I have already mentioned to him that you are too unwell to +think of receiving any one at present, but he announces his intention +of paying you a visit notwithstanding. Perhaps you would like to write +him a note yourself, and corroborate what I have said." + +"Captain Ratcliffe!" Muriel echoed blankly, as though the name +conveyed nothing to her; and then with a great start as the blood +rushed to her white cheeks, "Oh, you mean Nick. I--I had almost +forgotten his other name. Does he want to see me? Is he in Simla +still?" + +She turned her hot face away with a touch of petulance from the +peculiar look with which Lady Bassett was regarding her. What did she +mean by looking at her so, she wondered irritably? + +There followed a pause, and Lady Bassett began to fasten her +many-buttoned gloves. + +"Of course, dear," she said gently, at length, "there is not the +smallest necessity for you to see him. Indeed, if my advice were +asked, I should recommend you not to do so; for after such a +terrible experience as yours, one cannot be too circumspect. It is so +perilously easy for rumours to get about. I will readily transmit a +message for you if you desire it, though I think on the whole it would +be more satisfactory if you were to write him a line yourself to say +that you cannot receive him." + +"Why?" demanded Muriel, with sudden unexpected energy. She turned back +again, and looked at Lady Bassett with a quick gleam that was almost a +challenge in her eyes. "Why should I not see him? After all, I suppose +I ought to thank him. Besides--besides--why should I not?" + +She could not have said what moved her to this unwonted +self-assertion. Had Lady Bassett required her to see Nick she would +probably have refused to do so, and listlessly dismissed the matter +from her mind. But there was that in Lady Bassett's manner which +roused her antagonism almost instinctively. But vaguely understanding, +she yet resented the soft-spoken words. Moreover, a certain +perversity, born of her weakness, urged her. What right had Lady +Bassett to deny her to any one? + +"When is he coming?" she asked. "I will see him when he comes." + +Lady Bassett yielded the point at once with the faintest possible +shrug. "As you wish, dear child, of course; but I do beg of you to be +prudent. He speaks of coming this afternoon. But would you not like +him to postpone his visit till I can be with you?" + +"No, I don't think so," Muriel said, with absolute simplicity. + +"Ah, well!" Lady Bassett spoke in the tone of one repudiating all +responsibility. She bent over the girl with a slightly wry smile, and +kissed her forehead. "Good-bye, dearest! I shouldn't encourage him to +stay long, if I were you. And I think you would be wise to call him +Captain Ratcliffe now that you are living a civilised life once more." + +Muriel turned her face aside with a species of bored patience that +could scarcely be termed tolerance. She did not understand these +veiled warnings, and she cared too little for Lady Bassett and her +opinions to trouble herself about them. She had never liked her, +though she knew that her father had conscientiously tried to do so for +the sake of his friend, Sir Reginald. + +As Lady Bassett went away she rubbed the place on her forehead which +her cold lips had touched. "If she only knew how I hate being kissed!" +she murmured to herself. + +And then with an effort she rose and moved wearily across the room to +ring the bell. Since by some unaccountable impulse she had decided to +see Nick, it might be advisable, she reflected, to give her own orders +regarding his visit. + +Having done so, she lay down again. But she did not sleep. Sleep was +an elusive spirit in those days. It sometimes seemed to her that she +was too worn out mentally and physically ever to rest naturally again. + +Nearly an hour passed away while she lay almost unconsciously +listening. And then suddenly, with a sense of having experienced it +all long before, there came to her the sound of careless footsteps and +of a voice that hummed. + +It went through her heart like a sword-thrust as she called to mind +that last night at Fort Wara when she had clung to her father for the +last time, and had heard him bid her good-bye--till they should meet +again. + +With a choked sensation she rose, and stood steadying herself by the +back of the sofa. Could she go through this interview? Could she bear +it? Her heart was beating in heavy, sickening throbs. For an instant +she almost thought of escaping and sending word that she was not equal +to seeing any one, as Lady Bassett had already intimated. But even as +the impulse flashed through her brain, she realised that it was +too late. The shadow of the native servant had already darkened the +window, and she knew that Nick was just behind him on the verandah. +With a great, sobbing gasp, she turned herself to meet him. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE EAGLE SWOOPS + + +He came in as lightly and unceremoniously as though they had parted +but the day before, a smile of greeting upon his humorous, yellow +face, words of careless good-fellowship upon his lips. + +He took her hand for an instant, and she felt rather than saw that +he gave her a single, scrutinising glance from under eyelids that +flickered incessantly. + +"I see you are better," he said, "so I won't put you to the trouble +of saying so. I suppose dear Lady Bassett has gone to the Vice-Regal +garden-party. But it's all right. I told her I was coming. Did you +have to persuade her very hard to let you see me?" + +Muriel stiffened a little at this inquiry. Her agitation was rapidly +subsiding. It left her vaguely chilled, even disappointed. She had +forgotten how cheerily inconsequent Nick could be. + +"I didn't persuade her at all," she said coldly. "I simply told her +that I should see you in order--" + +"Yes?" queried Nick, looking delighted. "In order--" + +To her annoyance she felt herself flushing. With a gesture of +weariness she dismissed the sentence and sat down. She had meant to +make him a brief and gracious speech of gratitude for his past care of +her, but somehow it stuck in her throat. Besides, it was quite obvious +that he did not expect it. + +He came and sat down beside her on the sofa. "Let's talk things over," +he said. "You are out of the doctor's hands, I'm told." + +Muriel was leaning back against the cushions. She did not raise her +heavy eyes to answer. "Oh, yes, ever so long ago. I'm quite well, only +rather tired still." + +She frowned slightly as she gave this explanation. Though his face +was not turned in her direction, she had a feeling that he was still +closely observant of her. + +He nodded to himself twice while he listened and then suddenly he +reached out and laid his hand upon both of hers as they rested in her +lap. "I'm awfully pleased to hear you are quite well," he said, in +a voice that seemed to crack on a note of laughter. "It makes my +business all the easier. I've come to ask you, dear, how soon you can +possibly make it convenient to marry me. To-day? To-morrow? Next week? +I don't of course want to hurry you unduly, but there doesn't seem to +be anything to wait for. And--personally--I abhor waiting. Don't you?" + +He turned towards her with the last words. He had spoken very gently, +but there seemed to be an element of humour in all that he said. + +Muriel's eyes were wide open by the time he ended. She was staring +at him in blank astonishment. The flush on her face had deepened to +crimson. + +"Marry you?" she gasped at length, stammering in her confusion. "I? +Why--why--whatever made you dream of such a thing?" + +"I'll tell you," said Nick instantly, and quite undismayed. "I dreamed +that a certain friend of mine was lonely and heart-sick and sad. And +she wanted--horribly--some one to come and take care of her, to cheer +her up, to lift her over the bad places, to give her things which, if +they couldn't compensate for all she had lost, would be anyhow a bit +of a comfort to her. And then I remembered how she belonged to me, how +she had been given to me by her own father to cherish and care for. +And so I plucked up courage to intrude upon her while she was still +wallowing in her Slough of Despair. And I didn't pester her with +preliminaries. We're past that stage, you and I, Muriel. I simply came +to her because it seemed absurd to wait any longer. And I just asked +her humble-like to fix a day when we would get up very early, and +bribe the padre and sweet Lady Bassett to do likewise, and have a +short--very short--service all to ourselves at church, and when it was +over we would just say good-bye to all kind friends and depart. Won't +you give the matter your serious consideration? Believe me, it is +worth it." + +He still held her hand closely in his while he poured out his rapid +explanation, and his eyebrows worked up and down so swiftly that +Muriel was fascinated by them. His eyes baffled her completely. They +were like a glancing flame. She listened to his proposal with more +of bewilderment than consternation. It took her breath away without +exactly frightening her. The steady grasp of his hand and the +exceedingly practical tones of his voice kept her from unreasoning +panic; but she was too greatly astounded to respond very promptly. + +"Tell me what you think about it," he said gently. + +But she was utterly at a loss to describe her feelings. She shook her +head and was silent. + +After a little he went on, still quickly, but with less impetuosity. +"It isn't just a sudden fancy of mine--this. Don't think it. There's +nothing capricious about me. Your father knew about it. And because he +knew, he put you in my care. It was his sole reason for trusting you +to me. I had his full approval." + +He paused, for her fingers had closed suddenly within his own. She +was looking at him no longer. Her memory had flashed back to that last +terrible night of her father's life. Again she heard him telling her +of the one man to whom he had entrusted her, who would make it his +sole business to save her, who would protect her life with his own, +heard his speculative question as to whether she knew whom he meant, +recalled her own quick reply, and his answer--and his answer. + +With a sudden sense of suffocation, she freed her hand and rose. Once +more her old aversion to this man swept over her in a nauseating wave. +Once more there rose before her eyes the dread vision which for many, +many nights had haunted her persistently, depriving her of all +rest, all peace of mind--the vision of a man in his death-struggle, +fighting, agonising, under those merciless fingers. + +It was more than she could bear. She covered her eyes, striving to +shut out the sight that tortured her weary brain. "Oh, I don't know if +I can!" she almost wailed. "I don't know if I can!" + +Nick did not move. And yet it seemed to her in those moments of +reawakened horror as if by some magnetic force he still held her fast. +She strove against it with all her frenzied strength, but it eluded +her, baffled her--conquered her. + +When he spoke at length, she turned and listened, lacking the +motive-power to resist. + +"There is nothing to frighten you anyhow," he said, and the tone in +which he said it was infinitely comforting, infinitely reassuring. "I +only want to take care of you; for you're a lonely little soul, not +old enough, or wise enough to look after yourself. And I'll be awfully +good to you, Muriel, if you'll have me." + +Something in those last words--a hint of pleading, of coaxing +even--found its way to her heart, as it were, against her will. +Moreover, what he said was true. She was lonely: miserably, +unspeakably lonely. All her world was in ashes around her, and there +were times when its desolation positively appalled her. + +But still she stood irresolute. Could she, dared she, take this step? +What if that phantom of horror pursued her relentlessly to the day of +her death? Would she not come in time to shrink with positive loathing +from this man whose offer of help she now felt so strangely tempted in +her utter friendlessness to accept? + +It was impossible to answer these tormenting questions satisfactorily. +But there was nothing--so she told herself--to be gained by waiting. +She had no one to advise her, no one really to mind what happened to +her, with the single exception of this friend of hers, who only +wanted to take care of her. And after all, since misery was to be her +portion, what did it matter? Why should she refuse to listen to him? +Had he not shown her already that he could be kind? + +A sudden warmth of gratitude towards him stirred in her heart--a tiny +flame springing up among the ashes of her youth. Her horror sank away +like an evil dream. + +She turned round with a certain deliberation that had grown upon her +of late, and went back to Nick still seated on the sofa. + +"I don't care much what I do now," she said wearily. "I will marry +you, if you wish it, if--if you are quite sure you will never wish you +hadn't." + +"Well done!" said Nick, with instant approval. "That's settled then, +for I was quite sure of that ages ago." + +He smiled at her quizzically, his face a mask of banter. Of what his +actual feelings were at that moment she had not the faintest idea. + +With a piteous little smile in answer she laid her hand upon his knee. +"You will have to be very patient with me," she said tremulously. "For +remember--I have come to the end of everything, and you are the only +friend I have left." + +He took her hand into his own again, with a grasp that was warm and +comforting. "My dear," he said very kindly, "I shall always remember +that you once told me so." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE FIRST FLIGHT + + +Muriel lay awake for hours that night, going over and over that +interview with Nick till her tired brain reeled. She was not exactly +frightened by this new element that had come into her life. The very +fact of having something definite to look forward to was a relief +after dwelling for so long in the sunless void of non-expectancy. But +she was by no means sure that she welcomed so violent a disturbance at +the actual heart of her darkened existence. She could not, moreover, +wholly forget her fear of the man who had saved her by main force from +the fate she would fain have shared with her father. His patience--his +almost womanly gentleness--notwithstanding, she could not forget +the demon of violence and bloodshed that she knew to be hidden away +somewhere behind that smiling, yellow mask. + +She marvelled at herself for her tame surrender, but she felt it to +be irrevocable nevertheless. So broken was she by adversity, that she +lacked the energy to resist him or even to desire to do so. She tried +to comfort herself with the thought that she was carrying out her +father's wishes for her; but this did not take her very far. She could +not help the doubt arising as to whether he had ever really gauged +Nick's exceedingly elusive character. + +Tired out, at last she slept, and dreamed that an eagle had caught her +and was bearing her swiftly, swiftly, through wide spaces to his eyrie +in the mountains. + +It was a long, breathless flight fraught with excitement and a +nameless exultation that pierced her like pain. She awoke from it +with a cry that was more of disappointment than relief, and started up +gasping to hear horses' hoofs dancing in the compound below her window +to the sound of a cracked, hilarious voice. + +She almost laughed as she realised what it was, and in a moment all +her misgivings of the night vanished like wraiths of the darkness. +He had extracted a promise from her to ride with him at dawn, and he +meant to keep her to it. She got up and pulled aside the blind. + +A wild view-halloa greeted her, and she dropped it again sharply; +but not before she had seen Nick prancing about the drive on a giddy, +long-limbed Waler, and making frantic signs to her to join him. +Another horse with a side-saddle was waiting, held by a grinning +little _saice_. The sun was already rising rapidly behind the +mountains. She began to race through her toilet at a speed that showed +her to have caught some of the fever of her cavalier's impatience. + +She wondered what Lady Bassett thought of the disturbance (Lady +Bassett never rose early), and nearly laughed aloud. + +Hastening out at length she found Nick dismounted and waiting for her +by the verandah-steps. He sprang up to meet her with an eager whoop of +greeting. + +"Hope you enjoyed my serenade. Come along! There's no time to waste. +Jakko turned red some minutes ago. Were you asleep?" + +Muriel admitted the fact. + +"And dreaming of me," he rattled on, "as was sweet and proper?" + +She did not answer, and he laughed like a boy, rudely but not +insolently. + +"Didn't I know it? Jump up! We're going to have a glorious gallop. +I've brought some slabs of chocolate to keep you from starvation. +Ready? Heave ho! My dear girl, you're disgracefully light still. Why +don't you eat more?" + +"You're as thin as a herring yourself," Muriel retorted, with a most +unwonted flash of spirit. + +He lifted his grinning face to her as she settled herself in the +saddle, and then uncovering swiftly he bent and kissed the black cloth +of her habit, humbly, reverently, as became a slave. + +It sent a queer thrill through her, that kiss of his. She felt that +it was in some fashion a revelation; but she was still too blinded by +groping in dark places to understand its message. As they trotted side +by side out of the compound, she knew her face was burning, and turned +it aside that he might not see. + +It was a wonderful morning. There was intoxication in the scent of the +pines. The whole atmosphere seemed bewitched. They gave their horses +the rein and raced with the wind through an enchanted world. It was +the wildest, most alluring ride that she had ever known, and when Nick +called a halt at last she protested with a flushed face and sparkling +eyes. + +Nevertheless, it was good to sit and watch the rapid transformation +that the sun-god was weaving all about them. She saw the spurs of +Jakko fade from pink to purest amber, and then in the passage of a +few seconds gleam silver in the flood of glory that topped the highest +crests. And her heart fluttered oddly at the sight, while again she +thought of the eagle of her dream, cleaving the wide spaces, and +bearing her also. + +She glanced round for Nick, but he had wheeled his horse and was +staring out towards the plains. She wondered what was passing in his +mind, for he sat like a statue, his face turned from her. And suddenly +the dread loneliness of the mountains gripped her as with a chilly +hand. It seemed as if they two were alone together in all the world. + +She walked over to him. "I'm cold, Nick," she said, breaking in upon +his silence almost apologetically. "Shall we go?" + +He stretched out a hand to her without turning his head, without +speaking. But she would not put her own within it, for she was afraid. + +After a long pause he gave a sudden sharp sigh, and pulled his horse +round. "Eh? Cold? We'll fly down to Annandale. There's plenty of +time before us. By the way, I want to introduce you to a friend of +mine--Daisy Musgrave. Ever heard of her? She and Blake Grange are +first cousins. You'll like Daisy. We are great chums, she and I." + +Muriel had heard of her from Captain Grange. She had also once upon a +time met Daisy's husband. + +"I liked him, rather," she said. "But I thought he must be very +young." + +"So he is," said Nick. "A mere infant. He's in the Civil Service, and +works like an ox. Mrs. Musgrave is very delicate. She and the baby +were packed off up here in a hurry. I believe she has a weak heart. +She may have to go home to recruit even now. She doesn't go out at all +herself, but she hopes I will take you to see her. Will you come?" + +Muriel hesitated for a moment. "Nick," she said, "are you +telling--everybody--of our--engagement?" + +"Of course," said Nick, instantly. "Why not?" + +She could not tell him, only she was vaguely dismayed. + +"I told Lady Bassett yesterday evening," he went on. "Didn't she say +anything to you?" + +"Oh, yes. She kissed me and said she was very pleased." Muriel's +cheeks burned at the recollection. + +"How nice of her!" commented Nick. He shot her a sidelong glance. +"Dear Lady Bassett always says and does the right thing at the right +moment. It's her speciality. That's why we are all so fond of her." + +Muriel made no response, though keenly aware of the subtlety of this +speech. So Nick disliked her hostess also. She wondered why. + +"You see," he proceeded presently, "it is as well to be quite open +about it as we are going to be married so soon. Of course every one +realises that it is to be a strictly private affair. You needn't be +afraid of any demonstration." + +It was not that that had induced her feeling of dismay, but she could +not tell him so. + +"And Mrs. Musgrave knows?" she questioned. + +"I told her first," said Nick. "But you mustn't mind her. She won't +commit the fashionable blunder of congratulating you." + +Muriel laughed nervously. She longed to say something careless and +change the subject, but she was feeling stiff and unnatural, and words +failed her. + +Nick brought his horse up close to hers. + +"There's one thing I want to say to you, Muriel, before we go down," +he said. + +"Oh, what?" She turned a scared face towards him. + +"Nothing to alarm you," said Nick, frowning at her quizzically. "I +wanted to say it some minutes ago only I was shy. Look here, dear." He +held out to her a twist of tissue-paper on the palm of his hand. "It's +a ring I want you to wear for me. There's a message inside it. Read it +when you are alone." + +Muriel looked at the tiny packet without taking it. She had turned +very white. "Oh, Nick," she faltered at last, "are you--are you--quite +sure?" + +"Quite sure of what?" questioned Nick. "Your mind? Or my own?" + +"Don't!" she begged tremulously. "I can't laugh over this." + +"Laugh!" said Nick sharply. And then swiftly his whole manner changed. +"Yes, it's all right, dear," he said, smiling at her. "Take it, won't +you? I am--quite--sure." + +She took it obediently, but her reluctance was still very manifest. +Nick, however, did not appear to notice this. + +"Don't look at it now," he said. "Wait till I'm not there. Put it away +somewhere for the present, and let's have another gallop." + +She glanced at him as she slipped his gift into her pocket. "Won't you +let me thank you, Nick?" she asked shyly. + +"Wait till you've seen it," he returned. "You may not think it worth +it. Ready? One! Two! Three!" + +In the scamper that followed, the blood surged back to her face, and +her spirits rose again; but in her secret heart there yet remained a +nameless dread that she was as powerless to define as to expel. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE MESSAGE + + +Lady Bassett was still invisible when Muriel returned to the bungalow +though breakfast was waiting for them on the verandah. She passed +quickly through to her room and commenced hasty preparations for a +bath. It had been a good ride, and she realised that, though tired, +she was also very hungry. + +She slipped Nick's gift out of the pocket of her riding-habit, but she +would not stop to open it then. That should come presently, when +she had the whole garden to herself, and all the leisure of the long +summer morning before her. She felt that in a sense she owed him that. + +But a note that caught her eye lying on the table she paused to open +and hastily peruse. The writing was unfamiliar to her--a dashing, +impetuous scrawl that excited her curiosity. + +"Dear Miss Roscoe," it ran,--"Don't think me an unmitigated bore if +you can help it. I am wondering if you would have the real kindness +to waive ceremony and pay me a visit this afternoon. I shall be quite +alone, unless my baby can be considered in the light of a social +inducement. I know that Nick contemplates bringing you to see me, and +so he shall, if you prefer it. But personally I consider that he would +be decidedly _de trop_. I feel that we shall soon know each other so +well that a formal introduction seems superfluous. Let me know your +opinion by word of mouth, or if not, I shall understand. Nick, being +of the inferior species, could hardly be expected to do so, though I +admit that he is more generously equipped in the matter of intellect +than most.--Your friend to be, + +"Daisy Musgrave." + +Muriel laid down the letter with a little smile. Its spontaneous +friendliness was like a warm hand clasping hers. Yes, she would go, +she decided, as she splashed refreshingly in her bath, and that not +for Nick's sake. She knew instinctively that she was going to discover +a close sympathy with this woman who, though an utter stranger to her, +yet knew how to draw her as a sister. And Muriel's longing for such +human fellowship had already driven her to extremes. + +She had the note in her hand when she finally joined Lady Bassett upon +the verandah. + +Lady Bassett, though ever-gracious, was seldom at her best in the +morning. She greeted the girl with a faint, wry smile, and proffered +her nearest cheek to be kissed. + +"Quite an early bird, dear child!" was her comment. "I should imagine +Captain Ratcliffe's visitation awakened the whole neighbourhood. I +think you must not go out again with him before sunrise. I should not +have advised it this morning if you had consulted me." + +Muriel flushed at the softly-conveyed reproof. "It is not the first +time," she said, in her deep voice that was always deepest when +indignation moved her. "We have seen the sun rise together and the +moon rise too, before to-day." + +Lady Bassett sighed gently. "I am sure, dearest," she said, "that you +do not mean to be uncouth or unmannerly, far less--that most odious +of all propensities in a young girl--forward. But though my authority +over you were to be regarded as so slight as to be quite negligible, I +should still feel it my duty to remonstrate when I saw you committing +a breach of the conventions which might be grievously misconstrued. I +trust, dear Muriel, that you will bear my protest in mind and regulate +your actions by it in the future. Will you take coffee?" + +Muriel had seated herself at the other side of the table, and was +regarding her with wide, dark eyes that were neither angry nor +ashamed, only quite involuntarily disdainful. + +After a distinct pause she decided to let the matter drop, reflecting +that Lady Bassett's subtleties were never worth pursuing. + +"I am going to see a friend of Nick's this afternoon," she said +presently. "I expect you know her--Mrs. Musgrave." + +Lady Bassett's forehead puckered a little. It could hardly be called a +frown. "Have you ever met Mrs. Musgrave?" she asked. + +"No, never. But she is Nick's friend, and of course I know her cousin, +Captain Grange, quite well." + +Lady Bassett made no comment upon this. "Of course, dear," she said, +"you are old enough to please yourself, but it is not usual, you +know, to plunge into social pleasures after so recent a bereavement as +yours." + +The sudden silence that followed this gentle reminder had in it +something that was passionate. Muriel's face turned vividly crimson, +and then gradually whitened to a startling pallor. + +"It is the last thing I should wish to do," she said, in a stifled +voice. + +Lady Bassett continued, softly suggestive. "I say nothing of your +marriage, dear child. For that, I am aware, is practically a matter +of necessity. But I do think that under the circumstances you can +scarcely be too careful in what you do. Society is not charitably +inclined towards those who even involuntarily transgress its rules. +And you most emphatically are not in a position to do so wilfully." + +She paused, for Muriel had risen unexpectedly to her feet. Her eyes +were blazing in her white face. + +"Why should you call my marriage a matter of necessity?" she demanded. +"Sir Reginald told me that my father had provided for me." + +"Of course, of course, dear." Lady Bassett uttered a faint, artificial +laugh. "It is not a question of means at all. But, there, since you +are so childishly unsophisticated, I need not open your eyes. It is +enough for you to know that there is a sufficiently urgent reason for +your marriage, and the sooner it can take place, the better. But in +the meantime, let me counsel you to be as prudent as possible in all +that you do. I assure you, dear, it is very necessary." + +Muriel received this little homily in silence. She did not in the +least understand to what these veiled allusions referred, and +she decided impatiently that they were unworthy of her serious +consideration. It was ridiculous to let herself be angry with Lady +Bassett. As if it mattered in the least what she said or thought! She +determined to pay her projected visit notwithstanding, and quietly +said so, as she turned at length from the table. + +Lady Bassett raised no further remonstrance beyond a faint, eloquent +lift of the shoulders. And Muriel went away into the shady compound, +her step firmer and her dark head decidedly higher than usual. She +felt for Nick's gift as she went, with a little secret sensation of +pleasure. After all, why had she been afraid? All girls wore rings +when they became engaged to be married. + +Reaching her favourite corner, she drew it forth from its +hiding-place, a quiver of excitement running through her. + +She was sitting in the hammock under the pines as she unwrapped it. +The hot sunshine, glinting through the dark boughs overhead, flashed +upon precious stones and dazzled her as the wisp of tissue-paper fell +from her hand. + +And in a moment she was looking at an old marquise ring of rubies in +a setting of finely-wrought gold. Her heart gave a throb of sheer +delight at the beauty of the thing. She slipped it impetuously on to +her finger, and held it up to the sunlight. + +The rubies shone with a deep lustre--red, red as heart's blood, ardent +as flame. She gazed and gazed with sparkling, fascinated eyes. + +Suddenly his words flashed into her mind. A message inside it! She had +been so caught by the splendour of the stones that she had not looked +inside. She drew the ring from her finger, and examined it closely, +with burning cheeks. + +Yes, there was the message--three words engraved in minute, +old-fashioned characters inside the gold band. They were so tiny that +it took her a long time to puzzle them out. With difficulty at length +she deciphered the quaint letters, but even then it was some time +before she grasped the meaning that they spelt. + +It flashed upon her finally, as though a voice had spoken into her +ear. The words were: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. And the ring in her hand +was no longer the outward visible sign of her compact. It was a +love-token, given to her by a man who had spoken no word of love. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE VOICE OF A FRIEND + + +"So you didn't bring Nick after all. That was nice of you," said Daisy +Musgrave, with a little, whimsical smile. "I wanted to have you all to +myself. The nicest of men can be horribly in the way sometimes." + +She smiled upon her visitor whom she had placed in the easiest chair +and in the pleasantest corner of her drawing-room. Her pretty face was +aglow with friendliness. No words of welcome were needed. + +Muriel was already feeling happier than she had felt for many, many +weary weeks. It had been an effort to come, but she was glad that she +had made it. + +"It was kind of you to ask me," she said, "though of course I know +that you did it for Nick's sake." + +"You are quite wrong," Daisy answered instantly. "He told me about +you, I admit. But after that, I wanted you for your own. And now I +have got you, Muriel, I am not going to stand on ceremony the least +bit in the world. And you mustn't either; but I can see you won't. +Your eyes are telling me things already. I don't get on with stiff +people somehow. Lady Bassett calls me effusive. And I think myself +there must have been something meteoric about my birth star. Doubtless +that is why I agree so well with Nick. He's meteoric, too." She +slipped cosily down upon a stool by Muriel's side. "He's a nice boy, +isn't he?" she said sympathetically. "And is that his ring? Ah, let +me look at it! I think I have seen it before. No, don't take it off! +That's unlucky." + +But Muriel had already drawn it from her finger. "It's beautiful," she +said warmly. "Do you know anything about it? It looks as if it had a +history." + +"It has," said Daisy. "I remember now. He showed it to me once when I +was staying at his brother's house in England. I know the Ratcliffes +well. My husband used to live with them as a boy. It came from the old +maiden aunt who left him all his money. She gave it to him before she +died, I believe, and told him to keep it for the woman he was sure to +love some day. Nick was an immense favourite of hers." + +"But the ring?" urged Muriel. + +Daisy was frowning over the inscription within it, but she was fully +aware of the soft colour that had flooded the girl's face at her +words. + +"OMNIA VINCIT AMOR," she read slowly. "That is it, isn't it? Ah, yes, +and the history of it. It's rather sad. Do you mind?" + +"I am used to sad things," Muriel reminded her, with her face turned +away toward the mountains. + +Daisy pressed her hand gently. "It is a French ring," she said. "It +belonged to an aristocrat who was murdered in the Reign of Terror. +He sent it by his servant to the girl he loved from the steps of the +guillotine. I don't know their names. Nick didn't tell me that. But +she was English." + +Muriel had turned quickly back. Her interest was aroused. "Yes," she +said eagerly, as Daisy paused. "And she?" + +"She!" Daisy's voice had a sudden hard ring in it. "She remained +faithful to him for just six months. And then she married an +Englishman. It was said that she did it against her will. Still she +did it. Luckily for her, perhaps, she died within the year--when her +child was born." + +Daisy rose abruptly and moved across the room. "That was more than a +hundred years ago," she said, "and women are as great fools still. If +they can't marry the man they love--they'll marry--anything." + +Muriel was silent. She felt as if she had caught sight of something +that she had not been intended to see. + +But in a moment Daisy came back, and, kneeling beside her, slipped the +ring on to her finger again. "Yet love conquers all the same, dear," +she said, passing her arm about the girl. "And yours is going to be +a happy love story. The ring came finally into the possession of the +lady's grandson, and it was he who gave it to Nick's aunt--the maiden +aunt. It was her engagement ring. She never wore any other, and she +only gave it to Nick when her fingers were too rheumatic to wear it +any longer. Her lover, poor boy, was killed in the Crimea. There! +Forgive me if I have made you sad. Death is not really sad, you +know, where there is love. People talk of it as if it conquered love, +whereas it is in fact all the other way round. Love conquers death." + +Muriel hid her face suddenly on Daisy's shoulder. "Oh, are you quite +sure?" she whispered. + +"I am quite sure, darling." The reply was instant and full of +conviction. "It doesn't need a good woman to be quite sure of that. +Over and over again it has been the only solid thing I have had to +hold by. I've clung to it blindly in outer darkness, God only knows +how often." + +Her arms tightened about Muriel, and she fell silent. For minutes the +room was absolutely quiet. Then Muriel raised her head. + +"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much." + +Her eyes were full of tears as her lips met Daisy's, but she brushed +them swiftly away before they fell. + +Daisy was smiling at her. "Come," she said, "I want to show you my +baby. He is just the wee-est bit fractious, as he is cutting a tooth. +The doctor says he will be all right, but he still threatens to send +us both to England." + +"And you don't want to go?" questioned Muriel. + +Daisy shook her head. "I want to see my cousin Blake," she said +lightly, "when he comes marching home again. Did you hear the rumour +that he is to have the V.C.? They ought to give it to Nick, too, if he +does." + +"Oh, I shouldn't think so. Nick didn't do anything. At least," Muriel +stumbled a little, "nothing to be proud of." + +Daisy laughed and caught her face between her hands. "Except save his +girl from destruction," she said. "Doesn't that count? Oh, Muriel, I +know exactly what made him want you. No, you needn't be afraid. I'm +not going to tell you. Wild horses sha'n't drag it from me. But he's +the luckiest man in India, and I think he knows it. What lovely hair +you have! I'll come round early on your wedding-day and do it for +you. And what will you wear? It mustn't be a black wedding whatever +etiquette may decree. You look too pathetic in black, and it's a +barbarous custom anyway. I have warned my husband fairly that if he +goes into mourning for me, I'll never speak to him hereafter again. +He is coming up to see us next week, and to discuss our fate with the +doctor. Have you ever met Will?" + +"Once," said Muriel. "It was at a dance at Poonah early last summer." + +"Ah! When I was at Mahableshwar. He is a good dancer, isn't he? He +does most things well, I think." + +Daisy smiled tolerantly as she indicated the photograph of a boy +upon the mantelpiece. "He isn't sixteen," she said; "he is nearly +twenty-eight. Now come and see his son and the light of my eyes." She +linked her arm in Muriel's, and, still smiling, led her from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE POISON OF ADDERS + + +The week that followed that first visit of hers was a gradual renewal +of life to Muriel. She had come through the darkest part of her +trouble, and, thick though the shadows might still lie about her, she +had at last begun to see light ahead. She went again and yet again to +see Daisy, and each visit added to her tranquillity of mind. Daisy was +wonderfully brisk for an invalid, and her baby was an endless source +of interest. Even Lady Bassett could not cavil when her charge spoke +of going to nursery tea at Mrs. Musgrave's. She made no attempt to +check the ripening friendship, though Muriel was subtly aware that she +did not approve of it. + +She also went every morning for a headlong gallop with Nick who, in +fact, would take no refusal in the matter. He came not at all to the +house except for these early visits, and she had a good many hours +to herself. But her health was steadily improving, and her loneliness +oppressed her less than formerly. She spent long mornings lying in the +hammock under the pines with only an occasional monkey far above her +to keep her company. It was her favourite haunt, and she grew to look +upon it as exclusively her own. There was a tiny rustic summer-house +near it, which no one ever occupied, so far as she knew. Moreover, +the hammock had been decorously slung behind it, so that even though +a visitor might conceivably penetrate as far as the arbour, it was +extremely unlikely that the hammock would come into the range of +discovery. + +Even Lady Bassett had never sought her here, her time being generally +quite fully occupied with her countless social engagements. Muriel +often wondered that that garden on the mountainside in which she +revelled seemed to hold so slight an attraction for its owner. But +then of course Lady Bassett was so much in demand that she had little +leisure to admire the beauties that surrounded her. + +Growing daily stronger, Muriel's half-childish panic regarding her +approaching marriage as steadily diminished. She enjoyed her rides +with Nick, becoming daily more and more at her ease with him. They +seldom touched upon intimate matters. She wore his ring, and once +she shyly thanked him for it. But he made no further reference to the +words engraved within it, and she was relieved by his forbearance. + +Nick, on his part, was visiting Daisy Musgrave every day, and +sedulously imbibing her woman's wisdom. He had immense faith in her +insight and her intuition, and when she entreated him to move +slowly and without impatience he took a sterner grip of himself and +resolutely set himself to cultivate the virtue she urged upon him. + +"You mustn't do anything in a hurry," Daisy assured him, "either +before your marriage or after. She has had a very bad shock, and she +is only just getting over it. You will throw everything back if you +try to precipitate matters. She is asleep, you know, Nick, and it is +for you to waken her, but gradually--oh, very gradually--or she will +start up in the old nightmare terror again. If she doesn't love you +yet, she is very near it. But you will only win her by waiting for +her. Never do anything sudden. Always remember what a child she is, +though she has outgrown her years. And children, you know, though they +will trust those they love to the uttermost, are easily frightened." + +Nick knew that she was right. He knew also that he was steadily +gaining ground, and that knowledge helped him more than all Daisy's +counsels. He was within sight, so he felt, of the great consummation +of all his desires, and he was drawing daily nearer. + +Their wedding-day was little more than a week away. He had already +made full preparation for it. It was to be as quiet a ceremony as it +was possible to arrange. Daisy Musgrave had promised to be there, and +he expected her husband also. Lady Bassett, whose presence he realised +with a grimace to be indispensable, would complete the wedding-party. + +He had arranged to leave Simla directly the service was over, and to +go into Nepal. It would not be his first visit to that most wonderful +country, and it held many things that he desired to show her. He +expected much from that wedding journey, from the close companionship, +the intimacy that must result. He would teach her first beyond all +doubting that she had nothing to fear, and then--then at last, as +the reward of infinite patience, he would win her love. His blood +quickened whenever he thought of it. Alone with her once more among +the mountains, in perfect security, surrounded by the glory of the +eternal snows, so he would win her. They would come back closely +united, equipped to face the whole world hand-in-hand, so joined +together that no shadow of evil could ever come between them any more. +For they would be irrevocably made one. Thus ran the current of +his splendid dream, and for this he curbed himself, mastered his +eagerness, controlled his passion. + +On the day that Daisy's husband arrived, he considerately absented +himself from their bungalow, knowing how the boy loved to have his +wife to himself. He had in consequence the whole afternoon at +his disposal, and he contemplated paying a surprise visit to his +betrothed. He had ridden with her that morning, and he did not doubt +that she was to be found somewhere in Lady Bassett's compound. So in +fact she was, and had he carried out his first intention, he would +have explored behind the summer-house and found her in her retreat. +But he did not after all pay his projected visit. A very small matter +frustrated his plans--a matter of no earthly importance, but which he +always looked upon afterwards as a piece of the devil's own handiwork. +He remembered some neglected correspondence, and decided to clear it +off. She would not be expecting him, possibly she might not welcome +his intrusion. And so, in consequence of that rigid self-restraint +that he was practising, he suffered this latter reflection to sway +him in the direction of his unanswered letters, and sat down to his +writing-table with a strong sense of virtue, utterly unsuspicious of +the evil which even at that moment was drawing near imperceptibly but +surely to the girl he loved. + +She was lying in her hammock with an unread book on her knees. It +was a slumberous afternoon, making for drowsiness. The mountains were +wrapped in a vague haze, and the whole world was very still. Very far +overhead, the pines occasionally whispered to one another, but below +there was no movement, save when a lizard scuttled swiftly over the +pine-needles, and once when an enquiring monkey-face peered at her +round the red bole of a pine. + +It was all very restful, and Muriel was undeniably sleepy. She had +ridden farther than usual with Nick that morning, and it did not take +much to tire her. Lady Bassett had gone to a polo-match, she knew, and +she luxuriated in undisturbed solitude. It lay all about her like +a spell of enchantment. With her cheek pillowed on her hand she +presently floated into serene slumber. It was like drifting down a +tidal river into a summer sea.... + +Her awakening was abrupt, almost startling. She felt as if some +one had touched her, though she realised In a moment that this was +impossible; for she was still alone. No one was in sight. Only from +the arbour a few feet away there came the sound of voices, and the +tinkle of tea-cups. + +Visitors evidently! Lady Bassett had returned and brought back a +couple of guests with her. She frowned impatiently over the discovery, +realising that she was a prisoner unless she elected to show herself. +For her corner behind the summer-house was bounded by the wall of the +compound, and there was no retreat save by the path that led to the +bungalow, and this wound in front of the arbour itself. + +It was very annoying, but there was no help for it. She knew very +few people in Simla, and neither of the voices that mingled with Lady +Bassett's was familiar to her. It did not take her long to decide that +she had no desire for a closer acquaintance with their owners. One +was a man's voice, sonorous and weighty, that sounded as if it were +accustomed to propound mighty problems from the pulpit. The other was +a woman's, high-pitched as the wail of a cat on a windy night, that +caused the listening girl to nestle back on her pillow with the +instant resolution to remain where she was until the intruders saw fit +to depart, even if by so doing she had to forego her tea. + +She opened her book with an unwarrantable feeling of resentment. Of +course Lady Bassett could not know she was there, and of course she +was at liberty to go whither she would in her own garden. But no one +likes to have their cherished privacy invaded even in ignorance. +And Lady Bassett might surely have concluded that she would be out +somewhere under the pines. + +Well, they probably would not stay for long, and she was in no hurry. +With a faint sigh of lingering annoyance she began to read. + +But the piercing, feline voice soon pounded flail-like into her +consciousness, scattering her thoughts with ruthless insistence. + +"Of course," it asserted, "it was the only thing he could possibly do. +No man with any decent feeling could have done otherwise. But it was a +little hard on him. Surely you agree with me there?" + +Lady Bassett's voice, soft and precise, made answer. "Indeed I think +he has behaved most generously in the matter. As you say, it would +have been but a gentleman's duty to make an offer of marriage, +considering all the circumstances. But he went further than that. He +actually insisted upon the arrangement. I suppose he felt bound to +do so as the poor child's father had placed her in his charge. She +is quite unformed still, and is very far from realising her grave +position. Indeed, I scarcely expected her to accept him without the +urgent reason for the match being explained to her; for it is quite +obvious that she does not care for him in that way. Poor child, she is +scarcely old enough to know the true meaning of love. It is very sad +for them both." + +A gentle sigh closed the sentence. Muriel's book had slid down upon +a cushion of pine-needles. She had raised herself in the hammock, and +was staring at the rustic woodwork of the summer-house as though she +saw a serpent twining there. + +There followed a brief silence. Then came the man's voice, deliberate +and resounding. + +"I am sure it must have caused you much anxiety, dear Lady Bassett. +With my knowledge of Nicholas Ratcliffe I confess that I should have +felt very grave misgivings as to whether he were endowed with the +chivalry to fulfil the obligation he had incurred. My esteem for him +has increased fourfold since I heard of his intention to shoulder his +responsibilities thus courageously. I had not deemed him capable of +such a sacrifice. I sincerely trust that he will be given strength to +carry it through worthily." + +"I shall not feel really easy till they are married," confessed Lady +Bassett. + +"Ah!" The sonorous voice broke in again with friendly reproof. +"But--pardon me--does not that indicate a certain lack of faith, Lady +Bassett? Since the young man has been led to see that the poor girl +has been so sadly compromised, surely we may trust that he will be +enabled to carry out his engagement. I consider it doubly praiseworthy +that he has taken this action on his own initiative. I may tell you in +confidence that I was seriously debating with myself as to whether it +were not my duty to approach him on the subject. But the news of his +engagement relieved me of all responsibility. It is no doubt something +of a sacrifice to a man of his stamp. We can only trust that he will +be duly rewarded." + +Here the shrill, feline voice suddenly made itself heard, tripping in +upon the deeper tones without ceremony. + +"Oh, but poor Nick! I can't picture him married and done for. He has +always been so gay. Why, look at him with Daisy Musgrave! I know for +a fact that he goes there every day at least, and she refusing to +receive any one else. I call it quite scandalous." + +"My dear! My dear!" It was Lady Bassett's turn to reprove. "Not quite +every day surely!" + +"I do assure you that isn't the smallest exaggeration," protested +her informant. "I had it from Mrs. Gybbon-Smythe who never misstates +anything. It was she who first told me of this engagement, and she +considered that Nick was positively throwing himself away. A mere +chivalrous fad she called it, and declared that it would simply ruin +his prospects. For it is well known that married officers are almost +invariably passed over by the powers that be. And he is regarded as so +promising too. Really I am almost inclined to agree with her. Just a +little more tea, dear, if I may. Your tea is always so delicious, and +doubly so out here under the pines." + +The soft jingling of tea-cups ensued, and through it presently came +Lady Bassett's gentle tones. They sounded as if she were smiling. + +"Well, all I can say is, I was unspeakably relieved when I heard that +Captain Ratcliffe had decided to treat the matter as a point of honour +and marry dear Muriel. She is a sweet girl and I am devoted to her, +which made it doubly hard for me. For I should scarcely have dared to +venture, after what has happened, to ask any of my friends to receive +her. Naturally, she shrinks from speaking of that terrible time, but +I understand that she spent no less than three nights alone in +the mountains with him. And that fact in itself would be more than +sufficient to blight any girl's career from a social standpoint. I +often think that the rules of our modern etiquette are very rigid, +though I know well that we cannot afford to disregard them." Again +came that soft, regretful sigh; and then in an apologetic tone, "_You_ +will say, I know, that for the good of the community this must be so, +but you are great enough to make allowances for a woman's weakness. +And I must confess that I cannot but feel the pity of it in such a +case as this." + +"Indeed, Lady Bassett, I think your feminine weakness does you +credit," was the kind response this elicited. "We must all of us +sympathise most deeply with the poor little wanderer, who, I am well +assured, could not be in better hands than she is at the present +moment. Your protecting care must, I am convinced, atone to her in a +very great measure for all that she has been called upon to undergo." + +"So sweet of you to say so!" murmured Lady Bassett. "Words cannot +express my reluctance to explain to her the actual state of affairs, +or my relief that I have been able to avoid doing so with a clear +conscience. Ah! Your cup is empty! Will you let me refill it? No? But +you are not thinking of leaving me yet, surely?" + +"Ah, but indeed we must. We are dining with the Boltons to-night, and +going afterwards to the Parkers' dance. You will be there of course? +How delightful! Then we shall soon meet again." + +The penetrating voice was accompanied by the sounds of a general move, +and there ensued the usual interchange of compliments at departure, +Lady Bassett protesting that it had been so sweet of her friends to +visit her, and the friends assuring her of the immense pleasure it had +given them to do so. All the things that are never said by people who +are truly intimate with each other were said several times over as +the little party moved away. Their voices receded into the distance, +though they continued for a while to prick through the silence that +fell like a velvet curtain behind them. + +Finally they ceased altogether. The summer-house was empty, and an +enterprising monkey slipped down the trunk of a tree and peered in. +But he was a nervous beast, and he had a feeling that the place was +not so wholly devoid of human presence as it seemed. He approached +cautiously, gibbering a little to himself. It looked safe enough, and +there was some dainty confectionery within. But, uneasy instinct still +urging him, he deemed it advisable to peer round the corner of the +summer-house before he yielded to the promptings of a rapacious +appetite. + +The next instant his worst fears were realised, and he was scudding up +the nearest tree in a panic. + +There, on the ground, face downwards on the pine-needles, lay a human +form. True, it was only a woman lying there. But her silence and her +stillness were eloquent of tragedy even to his monkey-intelligence. +From a safe height he sat and reviled her till he was tired for having +spoilt his sport. Finally, as she made no movement, he forgot +his grievance, and tripped airily away in quest of more thrilling +adventures. + +But the woman remained prone upon the ground for a long, long time. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE SUMMONS + + +Nick's fit of virtue evaporated with his third letter, and he got +up, feeling that he had spent an unprofitable afternoon. He also +discovered that he was thirsty, and while quenching his thirst he +debated with himself whether he would after all stroll round to the +Musgraves. He and Will were old school-fellows, and the friendship +between them was of the sort that wears forever. He was moreover +dissatisfied with regard to Daisy's appearance, and he wanted to know +the doctor's verdict. + +He had just decided to chance his welcome and go, when a note was +brought to him which proved to be from Will himself. + + "DEAR OLD NICK," it ran,--"I have been wanting to shake your + hand ever since I heard of your gallant return from the jaws + of death. Well done, old chap, if it isn't a stale sentiment! + + "Will you come and dine with us? Do thy diligence, for though + we are neither of us the best of company, we both want you. + The doctor has ordered Daisy and the youngster home. They are + to leave before the _chota-bursat_. Damn the _chota-bursat_, + and the whole beastly show!--Yours ever, + + "WILL" + +Nick considered this outburst with a sympathetic frown, and at once +despatched an answer in the affirmative. He had almost expected the +news. It had been quite plain to him that Daisy was not making any +progress towards the recovery of her strength. Her quick temperament +would not allow her to be listless, but he had not been deceived. And +he was glad that Will had come up at length to see for himself. + +It was horribly unlucky for them both, he reflected, for he knew +that Will could not accompany his wife to England. And the thought +presently flashed across him,--How would it go with him if he ever had +to part with Muriel in that way? Having once possessed her, could +he ever bear to let her go again? Would he not rather relinquish his +profession for her sake, dear though it was to him? He had made her +his own by sheer dogged effort. He had planned for her, fought for +her, suffered for her,--almost he had died for her. Now that she was +his at last, he knew that he could never let her go. + +He turned impetuously to a calendar on his writing-table, and ticked +off another day. There were only six left before his wedding-day. He +counted them with almost savage exultation. Finally he tossed down the +pencil with a sudden, quivering laugh, and stood up with wide-flung +arms. She was his--his--his! No power or force of circumstance could +ever come between them now. He would trample every obstacle underfoot. + +But there were no obstacles left. He had overcome them all. He had won +her fairly; and the reward of patience was very near. + +For the first time he slackened the bonds of his self-restraint; +and instantly the fire of his passion leapt up, free and fierce, +overflowing its confines in a wide-spread, molten stream that carried +all before it. + +When later he departed to keep his engagement, he was as a man +treading upon air. Not a dozen yards from the gate one of Lady +Bassett's servants met him and presented a note. He guessed it was +from Muriel, and the blood rose in a hot wave to his head and pounded +at his temples as he opened it. It was the first she had ever written +to him. + + "I must see you at once,--M." + +That was all. He dismissed the waiting native, and returned to his +room. There he wrote a note to Will Musgrave warning him that he had +been delayed. + +Then he suddenly straightened himself and stood tense. Something had +happened. He was sure of it. That urgent summons rang in his brain +like a cry for help. Some demand was about to be made upon him, a +demand which he might find himself ill-equipped to meet. He was not +lacking in courage. He could meet adversity without a quiver. But for +once he was not sure of himself. He was not prepared to resist any +sudden strain that night. + +Several minutes passed before he moved. Then, glancing down, he +saw her message fast gripped in his hand. With a swift, passionate +movement he carried the paper to his lips. And he remembered suddenly +how he had once held her hand there and breathed upon the little cold +fingers to give them life. He had commanded himself then. Was he any +the less his own master now? And was he fool enough to destroy all in +a moment that trust of hers which he had built up so laboriously? He +felt as if a fiend had ensnared him, and with a fierce effort he broke +free. Surely he was torturing himself in vain. She had only sent for +him to explain that she could not ride with him in the morning, or +some other matter equally trifling. He would go to her at once since +she had desired it, and set her mind at rest on whatever subject +happened to be troubling it. + +And so with steady tread he left the house once more. She had called +him for the first time. He would not keep her waiting. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +THE ORDEAL + + +The drawing-room was empty when he entered it, the windows standing +flung wide to the night. Strains of dance music were wafted in from +somewhere lower down the hill, and he guessed that Lady Bassett would +be from home. The pine-trees of the compound stood black and silent. +There seemed to be a hush of expectancy in the air. + +He stood with his back to the room and his face to the mountains. The +moon was still below the horizon, but stars blazed everywhere with a +marvellous brightness. It was a night for dreams, and he thought with +a quickening heart of the nights that were coming when they two would +be alone once more among the hills, no longer starved and fleeing +for their lives, but wandering happily together in an enchanted world +where the past was all forgotten, and the future gleamed like the +peaks of Paradise. + +At sound of a quiet footfall, he turned back into the room. Muriel had +entered and was closing the door behind her. At first sight he fancied +that she was ill, so terribly did her deep mourning and heavy hair +emphasise her pallor. But as she moved forward he reassured himself. +It was growing late. Doubtless she was tired. + +He went impetuously to meet her, and in a moment he had her hands +in his; but they lay in his grasp cold and limp, with no responding +pressure. Her great eyes, as they looked at him, were emotionless +and distant, remote as the lights of a village seen at night across a +far-reaching plain. She gave him no word or smile of welcome. + +A sudden dark suspicion flashed through his brain, and he drew her +swiftly to the light, looking at her closely, searchingly. + +"What have you been doing?" he said. + +She fathomed his suspicion, and faintly smiled. "Nothing--nothing +whatever. I have never touched opium since the night you--" + +He cut in sharply, as if the reminiscence hurt him. "I beg your +pardon. Well, what is it then? There's something wrong." + +She did not contradict him. Merely with a slight gesture of weariness, +she freed herself and sat down. + +Nick remained on his feet, looking down at her, waiting grimly for +enlightenment. + +It did not come very readily. Seconds had passed into minutes before +she spoke, and then her words did not bear directly upon the matter in +hand. + +"I hope it was quite convenient to you to come to-night. I was a +little afraid you would have an engagement." + +He remembered the urgency of her summons and decided that she spoke +thus conventionally to gain time. On another occasion he might +have humoured such a whim, but to-night it goaded him almost beyond +endurance. Surely they had passed that stage, he and she. + +With an effort he controlled himself, but it sounded in his voice as +he made reply. + +"My engagement to you stands before any other. What is it you want to +say to me?" + +Her expression changed slightly at his words, and a shade of +apprehension flitted across her face. She threw him a swift upward +glance, half-scared, half-questioning. Unconsciously her hands locked +themselves together. + +"I want you not to be vexed, Nick," she said, in a low voice. + +He made an abrupt movement. "My dear girl, don't be silly. What's the +trouble? Let me hear it and have done." + +His tone was reassuring. She looked up at him with more confidence. + +"Yes, I am silly," she acknowledged. "I'm perfectly idiotic to fancy +for a moment that it can make any difference to you. Nick, I have been +thinking things over seriously, and--and--I find that I can't marry +you after all. I hope you won't mind, though of course--" she uttered +a little laugh that was piteously insincere--"I know you will feel +bound to say you do. But--anyhow--you needn't say it to me, because I +understand. I thought it was only fair to let you know at once." + +"Thank you," said Nick, and there was that in his voice which was like +the sudden snapping of a tense spring. + +She saw his hands clench with the words, and an overwhelming sense +of danger swept over her. Instinctively she started to her feet. If a +tiger had leapt in upon her through the window she could not have been +more terrified. + +Nick took a single stride towards her, and she stopped as if struck +powerless. His face was the face she had once seen bent over a man in +his death-agony, convulsed with passion, savage, merciless,--the face +of a devil. + +She shrank away from him in nameless terror, gasping and +panic-stricken. "Nick," she whispered, "are you--mad?" + +He answered her jerkily in a strangled voice that was like the snarl +of a beast. "Yes--I am mad. If you try to run away from me now--I +won't answer for myself." + +She gazed at him with widening eyes. "But, but--" she faltered--"I--I +don't understand. Oh, Nick, you frighten me!" + +It was the cry of a child, lost, bewildered, piteous. Had she +withstood him, had she sought to escape, the demon in him would have +burst the last restraining bond, and have shattered in one moment of +unshackled violence all the chivalrous patience which during the last +few weeks he had spent his whole strength to achieve. + +But that cry of desolation pierced straight through his madness, +cutting deeper than reproach or protest, wounding him to the heart. + +With a sound that was half-sob, half-groan, he turned his back upon +her and covered his face. + +For a space of seconds he stood so, not moving, seeming not even to +breathe. And Muriel, steadying herself by the mantelpiece, watched him +with a panting heart. + +Then abruptly, moving with a quick, light tread that made no sound, he +crossed the room to one of the wide-flung windows and stopped there. + +From across the quiet garden there came the strains of "The Blue +Danube," fitful, alluring, plaintive--that waltz to which countless +lovers have danced and wooed and whispered through the years. Muriel +longed intensely to shut it out, to stop her ears, to make some noise +to drown it. Her nerves were all on edge, and she felt as if its +persistent sweetness would drive her mad. + +Surely Nick felt the same; but if he did, he made no sign. He stood +without movement with his face to the night, gripping the woodwork of +the window with both hands, every bone of them standing out in sharp, +skeleton lines. + +She watched him, fascinated, for a long time, but he did not stir from +his tense position. He seemed to have utterly forgotten her presence +in the room behind him. And still that maddening waltz kept on and on +and on till she felt sick and dazed with listening to it. It seemed as +if for the rest of her life she would never again be free from those +haunting strains. + +The soft shutting of the window made her start and quiver. Nick had +moved at last, and her heart began to throb thick and fast as he +turned. She tried to read his face, but she could not even see +it. There was a swimming mist before her eyes, and her limbs felt +powerless, heavy as lead. + +In every nerve, she felt him drawing near, and in an agony of +helplessness she awaited him, all the surging horror of that night +when he had drugged her rushing back upon her with tenfold force. +Again she saw him as she had seen him then, monstrous, silent, +terrible, a man of superhuman strength, whose mastery appalled +her. Again in desperate fear she shrank from him, seeking wildly, +fruitlessly, for a way of escape. + +And then came the consciousness of his arm about her, supporting her; +and the voice that had quieted her wildest delirium was speaking in +her ear. + +"The goblins are all gone, dear," she heard him say. "Don't be +frightened." + +He led her gently to a sofa and made her sit down, bending over her +and softly rubbing her cold cheek. + +"Tell me when you're better," he said, "and we'll talk this thing out. +But don't be frightened anyway. It's all right." + +The tenderness of voice and touch, the sudden cessation of all +tension, the swift putting to flight of her fear, all combined to +produce in her a sense of relief so immense that the last shred of her +self-control went from her utterly. She laid her head down upon the +cushions and burst into a storm of tears. + +Nick's hand continued to stroke and soothe, but he said no more while +her paroxysm of weeping lasted. He who was usually so ready of speech, +so quick to console, found for once no words wherewith to comfort her. + +Only when her distress had somewhat spent itself, he bent a little +lower and dried her tears with his own handkerchief, his lips +twitching as he did it, his eyes flickering so rapidly that it was +impossible to read their expression. + +"There!" he said at last. "There's nothing to cry about. Finish what +you were saying when I interrupted you. I think you were in the middle +of throwing me over, weren't you? At least, you had got through that +part of it, and were just going to tell me why." + +His tone was reassuringly flippant. + +Looking up at him, she saw the old kindly, quizzical look on his face. +He met her eyes, nodding shrewdly. + +"Let's have it," he said, "straight from the shoulder. You're tired of +me, eh?" + +She drew back from him, but with no gesture of shrinking. "I'm tired +of everything--everything," she said, a little passionate quiver in +her voice. "I wish--I wish with all my heart, you had left me to die." + +"Is that the grievance?" said Nick. He sat down on the head of the +sofa, and drove his fist into the cushion. "If I could explain things +to you, I would. But you're such a chicken, aren't you, dear, and +about as easily scared? Since when have you harboured this grudge +against me?" + +The gentle banter of his tone did not deceive her into imagining that +she could trifle with him, nor was she addicted to trifling. She +made answer with a certain warmth of indignation that seemed to have +kindled on its own initiative and wholly without her volition. + +"I haven't, I don't. I'm not so absurd. It isn't that at all." + +"You're not tired of me?" queried Nick. + +"No." + +"If I were to die to-morrow for instance--and there's no telling, you +know, Muriel,--you'd be a little sorry?" + +Again, though scarcely aware of it, she resented the question. "Why do +you ask me that? Of course I should be sorry." + +"Of course," acquiesced Nick. "But all the king's horses and all the +king's men wouldn't bring me back again. That's the worst of being +mortal. You can't dance at your own funeral." + +"What do you mean?" There was a note of exasperation in Muriel's +voice. She saw that he had an object in view, but his method of +attaining it was too tortuous for her straightforward understanding. + +He explained himself with much patience. His mood had so completely +changed that she could barely recall to mind the vision that had so +appalled her but a few minutes before. + +"What I mean is that it's infernal to think that some one may be +shedding precious tears on your grave and you not there to see. +I've often wondered if one could get a ticket of leave for such an +occasion." He smiled down at her with baffling directness. "I should +value those tears unspeakably," he said. + +Muriel made a slight movement of impatience. The discussion seemed to +her inconsequent and unprofitable. + +Nick began to enumerate his points. "You're not tired of me--though +I see I'm boring you hideously; put up with it a little longer, I've +nearly finished--and you'd shed quite a respectable number of tears +if I were to die young. Yes, I am young though as ugly as Satan. I +believe you think I'm some sort of connection, don't you? Is that why +you don't want to marry me?" + +He put the question with startling suddenness, and Muriel glanced up +quickly, but was instantly reassured. He was no more formidable at +that moment than a grinning schoolboy. Still she did not feel wholly +at her ease with him. She had a curious suspicion that he was in some +fashion testing her. + +"No," she answered, after a moment. "It is nothing of that sort." + +"Quite sure there is a reason?" he asked quizzically. + +Her white cheeks flushed. "Yes, of course. But--I would rather not +tell you what it is." + +"Quite so," said Nick. "I suppose that also is 'only fair'?" + +Her colour deepened. He made her feel unaccountably ashamed. "I will +tell you if you wish to know," she said reluctantly. "But I would +rather not." + +Nick made an airy gesture. "Not for the world! My intelligence +department is specially fitted for this sort of thing. Besides, I know +exactly what happened. It was something like this." He passed his +hand over his face, then turned to her with a faint, wry smile so +irresistibly reminiscent of Lady Bassett that Muriel gasped with a +sudden hysterical desire to laugh. + +He silenced her by beginning to speak in soft, purring accents. "You +know, darling Muriel, I have never looked upon Nicholas Ratcliffe as +a marrying man. He is such a gay butterfly." (This with an indulgent +shake of the head.) "Indeed, I have heard dear Mrs. Gybbon-Smythe +describe him as a shocking little flirt. And they say he is fond of +his glass too, but let us hope this is an exaggeration. I know for a +fact that he has a very violent temper, and this may have given +rise to the rumour. I assure you, dearest, he is quite formidable, +notwithstanding his size. But there, if I tell you any more you will +think I am prejudiced against him, whereas we are really the greatest +friends--the greatest possible friends. I only thought it kind to warn +you not to expect too much. It is a mistake so many young girls make, +and I want you to be as happy as you can, poor child." + +Muriel was laughing helplessly when he stopped. The mimicry of voice +and action was so perfect, so free from exaggeration, so sublimely +spontaneous. + +Nick did not laugh with her. Behind his mask of banter he was +watching, watching closely. He had clad himself in jester's garb to +feel for the truth. Perhaps she realised something of this as +she recovered herself, for again that glance, half-questioning, +half-frightened, flashed up at him as she made reply. + +"No, Nick. She never said that, indeed. I wouldn't have cared if she +had. It was only--only--" + +"I know," he broke in abruptly. "If it wasn't that, there is only one +thing left that it could have been. I don't want you to tell me. It's +as plain as daylight. Let me tell you instead. It's all for the sake +of your poor little personal pride. I know--yes, I know. They've been +throwing mud at you, and it's stuck. You'd sooner die than marry me, +wouldn't you? But what will you do if I refuse to set you free?" + +She turned suddenly crimson. "You--you wouldn't, Nick! You couldn't! +You haven't--the right." + +"Haven't I?" said Nick, with an odd smile. "I thought I had." + +He looked down at her, and a queer little flame leaped up like an evil +spirit in his eyes, flickered an instant, and was gone. "I thought I +had," he said again, in a different tone. "But we won't quarrel about +that. Tell me what you want to do." + +Her answer came with a vehemence that perhaps he had hardly expected. +"Oh, I want to get away--right away. I want to go home. I--I hate this +place." + +"And every one in it?" suggested Nick. + +"Almost." Muriel spoke recklessly, even defiantly. She was fighting +for her freedom, and the battle was infinitely harder than she had +anticipated. + +He nodded. "The sole exception being Mrs. Musgrave. Do you know Mrs. +Musgrave is going home? You would like to go with her." + +Muriel looked at him with sudden hope. "Alone with her?" she said. + +"Oh, I'm not going," declared Nick. "I'm going to Khatmandu for my +honeymoon." + +The hope died out of Muriel's eyes. "Don't--jeer at me, Nick," she +said, in a choked voice. "I can't bear it." + +"Jeer!" said Nick. "I!" He reached down suddenly and took her hand. +The light sparkled on the ring he had given her, and he moved it +slowly to and fro watching it. + +"I am going to ask you to take it back," she said. + +He did not raise his eyes. "And I am going to refuse," he answered +promptly. "I don't say you must wear it, but you are to keep it--not +as a bond, merely in remembrance of a promise which you will make to +me." + +"A promise--" she faltered. + +Still he did not look up. He was watching the stones with eyes +half-shut. + +"Yes," he said, after a moment. "I will let you go on the sole +condition that you give me this promise." + +She began to tremble a little. "What is it?" she whispered. + +He glanced at her momentarily, but his expression was enigmatical. She +felt as if his look lighted and dwelt upon something beyond her. + +"Simply this," he said. "You'll laugh, I daresay; but if you are able +to laugh it won't hurt you to promise. I want your word of honour that +if you ever change your mind about marrying me, you will come to me +like a brave woman and tell me so." + +Thus, quite calmly, he made known to her his condition, and in the +amazed silence with which she received it he continued to flash hither +and thither the wonderful rays that shone from the gems upon her hand. +He did not appear to be greatly concerned as to what her answer would +be. Simply with an inscrutable countenance he waited for it. + +"Is it a bargain?" he asked at last. + +She started with an involuntary gesture of shrinking. "Oh, no, Nick! +How could I promise you that? You know I shall never change my mind." + +He raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "That isn't the point under +discussion. If it's an impossible contingency, it costs you the less +to promise." + +He kept her hand in his as he said it, though she fidgeted to be free. +"Please, Nick," she said earnestly, "I would so much rather not." + +"You prefer to marry me at once?" he asked, and suddenly it seemed to +her that this was the alternative to which he meant to drive her. + +She rose in a panic, and he rose also, still keeping her hand. His +face looked like a block of yellow granite. + +"Must it--must it--be one or the other?" she panted. + +He looked at her under flickering eyelids. "I have said it," he +remarked. + +Her resistance flagged, sank, rose again, and finally died away. After +all, why should she hesitate? What was there in such an undertaking as +this to send the blood so wildly to her heart? + +"Very well," she said faintly at last. "I promise. But--but--I never +shall change my mind, Nick--never--never." + +He was still looking at her with veiled, impenetrable eyes. He paid no +attention to her protest. It was as if he had not so much as heard it. + +"You've done your part," he said. "Now hear me do mine. I swear to +you--before God--that I will never marry you unless you ask me to." + +He bent with the words, and solemnly, reverently, he pressed his lips +upon the hand he held. + +Muriel waited, half-frightened still, and wholly awestruck. She did +not know Nick in this mood. + +But when he straightened himself again, the old whimsical smile was on +his face, and she breathed a sigh of relief. With a quick, caressing +movement he took her by the shoulders. + +"That's over then," he said lightly. "Turn over and start another +page. Go back to England, go back to school; and let them teach you to +be young again." + +They were his last words to her. Yet an instant longer he waited, and +very deep down in her heart something that was hidden there stirred +and quivered as a blind creature moves at the touch of the sun. It +awoke a vague pain within her, that was all. + +The next moment Nick had turned upon his heel and was departing. + +She heard him humming a waltz tune under his breath as he went away +with his free British swagger. And she knew with no sense of elation +that she had gained her point. + +For good or ill he had left her, and he would not return. + + + + +PART III + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +AN OLD FRIEND + + +"There!" said Daisy, standing back from the table to review her +handiwork with her head on one side. "I may be outrageously childish, +but if Blake fails to appreciate this masterpiece of mine, I shall +feel inclined to turn him out-of-doors, and leave him to spend the +night on the step." + +Muriel, curled up in the old-fashioned window-seat, looked round with +her low laugh. "It's snowing hard," she remarked. + +Daisy did not heed her. "Come and look at it," she said. + +The masterpiece in question consisted of an enormous red scroll +bearing in white letters the words: "Welcome to the Brave." + +"It never before occurred to me that Blake was brave," observed Daisy. +"He is so shy and soft and retiring. I can't somehow feel as if I am +going to entertain a lion. He ought to be here by this time. Let's go +and hang my work of art in the hall." + +She slipped her hand through Muriel's arm, and glanced at her sharply +when she felt it tremble. + +"It will be good to see him again, won't it?" she said. + +"Yes," Muriel agreed, but there was a little tremor in her voice as +well. + +Very vividly were the circumstances under which she had last seen this +man in her mind that night. Eight months that were like as many years +stretched between that tragic time and the present, but the old wild +horror had still the power to make her blood turn cold, the old wound +had not lost its ache. These things had made a woman of her before +her time, but yet she was not as other women. It seemed that she was +destined all her life to live apart, and only to look on at the joys +of others. They did not attract her, and she had no heart for gaiety. +Yet she was not cold, or Daisy had not found in her so congenial a +companion. But even Daisy seldom penetrated behind the deep reserve +that had grown over the girl's sad young heart. They were close +friends, but their friendship lay mainly in what they left unsaid. +For all her quick warmth, Daisy too had her inner shrine--a place so +secret that she herself never entered it save as it were by stealth. + +But something of Muriel's mood she understood on that bitter night +in January on which they awaited the coming of Blake Grange, and her +close hand-pressure conveyed as much as they passed out together into +the little hall that glowed so snugly in the firelight. + +"He is sure to be frozen, poor boy," she said. "I hope Jim Ratcliffe +won't forget to send the motor to the station as he promised." + +"I am quite sure he never forgets anything," Muriel declared, with +reassuring confidence. + +Daisy laughed lightly. "Yes, he's very dependable, deliciously solid, +isn't he? A trifle domineering perhaps, but all doctors are. They +rule us weak women with a rod of iron. I am a little afraid of Dr. Jim +myself, and most unfortunately he knows it." + +Muriel's silence expressed a certain scepticism that provoked another +laugh from Daisy. She was almost frivolously light-hearted that night. + +"It's a fact, I assure you. Have you never noticed how docile I am +in his presence? I always feel as if I want to confess all my sins to +him. I should like intensely to have his opinion upon some of them. I +think it would do me good." + +"Then why not ask for it?" suggested Muriel. + +"For the reason aforementioned--a slavish timidity." Daisy broke off +to carol a few bars of a song. "I've known the Ratcliffe family ever +since I became engaged to Will," she said presently. "Jim Ratcliffe, +you know, was left his guardian, and he was always very good to him. +Will made his home with them and he and Nick are great pals, just like +brothers. I should think Dr. Jim had his hands full with the two of +them." Again Daisy stopped to sing. Muriel was stooping over the fire. +It was seldom that Nick's name was mentioned between them, though the +fact that Daisy had placed herself and her baby in the hands of +his half-brother formed a connecting link which could not always be +ignored. She always dropped into silence when a reference was made +to him. Not in the most casual conversation had Daisy ever heard her +utter his name. + +Having successfully fixed her message of welcome in a prominent +position, she joined the girl in front of the fire. Her face was +flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Muriel thought that she had never +seen her look so well or so happy. + +"You're quite excited," she said. + +Daisy put up a hand to her hot cheek. "Yes, isn't it absurd? I hope +Dr. Jim won't come with him, or he will be cross. But I can't help it. +Blake and I have been chums all our lives, and of course I am glad to +see him after all this while. So nice, too, not to have Lady Bassett +looking on." + +There was a spice of venom in this, over which Muriel smiled in her +sad way. + +"Does she disapprove?" she asked. + +Daisy nodded impatiently. "She chose altogether to overlook the fact +that we are first cousins. It was intolerable. But--" again came her +light laugh--"everything is intolerable till you learn to shrug your +shoulders and laugh. Hark! Surely I heard something!" + +Both listened intently. Footsteps were approaching the door. Daisy +sprang to open it. + +But it was only the evening post, and she came back holding a letter +with a very unwonted expression of disappointment. + +"From Will," she said. "I forgot it was mail night. I don't suppose +there is anything very exciting in it." + +She pushed the flimsy envelope into the front of her dress and fell +again to listening. + +"Can he have missed the train? Surely it's getting very late. A fog on +the line perhaps. No! What's that? Ah! It really is this time. That's +the horn, and, yes, Jim Ratcliffe's voice." + +In a moment she had the door open again, and was out upon the step +crying welcome to her guest. + +Muriel crouched a little lower over the fire. Her hands were fast +gripped together. It was more of an ordeal than she had thought it +possibly could be. + +An icy blast blew in through the open door, and she heard Dr. +Ratcliffe's voice, sharp and curt, ordering Daisy back into the +house. Then came another voice, slow and soft as a woman's, and for an +instant Muriel covered her face, overwhelmed by bitter memory. + +When she looked up they were entering the hall together, Daisy, +radiant, eager, full of breathless questioning; Blake, upright, +soldierly, magnificent, wearing the shy, pleased smile that she so +well remembered. + +He did not at once see her, and she stood hesitating, till Daisy, who +was clinging to her cousin's arm, turned swiftly round and called her. + +"Muriel, dear, where are you? Why are you hiding yourself? See, Blake! +Here is Muriel Roscoe! You knew we were living together?" + +He saw her then, and came across to her, with both hands outstretched. + +"Forgive me, Miss Roscoe," he said, with his pleasant smile. "You know +how glad I am to meet you again." + +He looked down at her with eyes full of frank and friendly sympathy, +and the grasp of his hands was such that she felt it for long after. +It warmed her through and through, but she could not speak just then, +and with ready understanding he turned back to Daisy. + +"Dr. Ratcliffe told me you had sent him to fetch me from the station," +he said. "I am immensely grateful to you and to him." + +Daisy was greeting the doctor with much animation and a hint of +mischief. + +"I knew you would come," she laughed. "You never trust me to take care +of myself, do you?" + +He brushed some flakes of snow from her dress. "Events prove me to be +justified," he remarked dryly. "Since Will has put you in my care, I +labour under a twofold responsibility. What possessed you to go out in +that murderous north-easter?" + +He frowned at her heavily, his black brows meeting, but +notwithstanding her avowal of a few minutes before, Daisy only +grimaced in return. He was generally regarded as somewhat formidable, +this gruff, square-shouldered doctor, with his iron-grey hair and +black moustache, and keenly critical eyes. There was no varnish in his +curt speech, no dissimulation in any of his dealings. It was said +of him that he never sugared his pills. But his popularity was +wide-spread nevertheless. His help was sought in a thousand ways +outside his profession. To see his strong face melt into a smile was +like sunshine on a gloomy day, the village mothers declared. + +But Daisy's gay effrontery did not manage to provoke it at that +moment. + +"You have no business to take risks," he said. "How's the boy?" + +Daisy sobered instantly. "His teeth have been worrying him rather +to-day. _Ayah_ is with him. I left her crooning him to sleep. Will you +go up?" + +Jim Ratcliffe nodded and turned aside to the stairs. But he had not +reached the top when Muriel overtook him, moving more quickly than was +her wont. + +"Let me come with you, doctor," she said. + +He put his hand on her arm unceremoniously. "Miss Roscoe," he said, "I +have a message for you--from my scapegrace Olga. She wants to know +if you will play hockey in her team next Saturday. I have promised to +exert my influence--if I have any--on her behalf." + +Muriel looked at him in semi-tragic dismay. "Oh, I can't indeed. Why, +I haven't played for ages,--not since I was at school. Besides--" + +"How old are you?" he cut in. + +"Nearly twenty," she told him. "But--" + +He brought his hand down sharply on her shoulder. "I shall never call +you Miss Roscoe again. You obtained my veneration on false pretences, +and you have lost it for ever. Now look here, Muriel!" Arrived at the +top of the stairs, he stood still and confronted her with that smile +of his that so marvellously softened his rugged face. "I am thirty +years older than you are, and I haven't lived for any part of +them with my eyes shut. I've been wanting to give you some +advice--medical advice--for a long time. But you wouldn't have it. And +now I'm not going to offer it to you. You shall take the advice of a +friend instead. You join Olga's hockey team, and go paper-chasing with +her too. The monkey is a rare sportswoman. She'll give you a good run +for your money. Besides, she has set her heart on having you, and +she is a young woman that likes her own way, though, to be sure, she +doesn't always get it. Come, you can't refuse when a friend asks you." + +It was difficult, certainly, but Muriel plainly desired to do so. She +had escaped from the whirling vortex of life with strenuous effort, +and dragged herself bruised and aching to the bank. She did not want +to step down again into even the minutest eddy of that ruthless +flood. Moreover, in addition to this morbid reluctance she lacked the +physical energy that such a step demanded of her. + +"It's very kind of your little daughter to think of asking me," she +said. "But really, I shouldn't be any good. I get tired so quickly. +No, there's nothing the matter with me," seeing his intent look. "I'm +not ill. I never have been actually ill. Only--" her voice quivered a +little--"I think I always shall be tired for the rest of my life." + +"Skittles!" he returned bluntly. "That isn't what's the matter with +you. Go out into the open air. Go out into the north-east wind and +sweep the snow away. Shall I tell you what is wrong with you? You're +stiff from inaction. It's a species of cramp, my dear, and there's +only one remedy for it. Are you going to take it of your own accord, +or must I come round with a physic spoon and make you?" + +She laughed a little, though the deep pathos of her shadowed eyes +never varied. Daisy's merry voice rose from the lower regions gaily +chaffing her cousin. + +"Goodness, Blake! I shouldn't have known you. You're as gaunt as +a camel. Haven't you got over your picnic at Fort Wara yet? You're +almost as scanty a bag of bones as Nick was six months ago." + +Blake's answer was inaudible. Dr. Ratcliffe did not listen for it. +He had seen the swift look of horror that the brief allusion had sent +into the girl's sad face, and he understood it though he made no sign. + +"Very well," he said, turning towards the nursery. "Then I take you +in hand from this day forward. And if I don't find you in the +hockey-field on Saturday, I shall come myself and fetch you." + +There was nothing even vaguely suggestive of Nick about him, but +Muriel knew as surely as if Nick had said it that he would keep his +word. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE EXPLANATION + + +"Now," said Daisy briskly, "you two will just have to entertain each +other for a little while, for I am going up to sit with my son while +_ayah_ is off duty." + +"Mayn't we come too?" suggested her cousin, as he rose to open the +door. + +She stood a moment and contemplated him with shining eyes. "You +are too magnificent altogether for this doll's house of ours," she +declared. "I am sure this humble roof has never before sheltered such +a lion as Captain Blake Grange, V.C." + +"Only an ass in a lion's skin, my dear Daisy," said Grange modestly. + +She laughed. "An excellent simile, my worthy cousin. I wish I had +thought of it myself." + +She went lightly away with this thrust, and Grange, after a brief +pause, turned slowly back into the room. + +Muriel was seated in a low chair before the fire. She was working at +some tiny woollen socks, knitting swiftly in dead silence. + +He moved to the hearthrug, and stood there, obviously ill at ease. A +certain shyness was in his nature, and Muriel's nervousness reacted +upon him. He did not know how to break the silence. + +At length, with an effort, he spoke. "You heard about Nick Ratcliffe's +wound, I expect, Miss Roscoe?" + +Muriel's hands leapt suddenly and fell into her lap. "Nick Ratcliffe! +When was he wounded? No, I have heard nothing." + +He looked down at her with an uneasy suspicion that he had lighted +upon an unfortunate subject. + +"I thought you would have heard," he said. "Didn't Daisy know? He +came back to us from Simla--got himself attached to the punitive +expedition. I was on the sick list myself, so did not see him, but +they say he fought like a dancing dervish, and did a lot of damage +too. Every one thought he would have the V.C., but there was a rumour +that he refused it." + +"And--he was wounded, you say?" Muriel's voice sounded curiously +strained. Her knitting lay jumbled together in her lap. Her dark face +was lifted, and it seemed to Grange, unskilled observer though he was, +that he had never seen deeper tragedy in any woman's eyes. + +Somewhat reluctantly he made reply. "He had his arm injured by a +sword-thrust at the very end of the campaign. He made light of it for +ever so long till things began to look serious. Then he had to give +in, and had a pretty sharp time of it, I believe. He's better again +now, though, so his brother told me this evening. I never heard any +details. I daresay he's all right again." He stooped to pick up a +completed sock that had fallen. "He's the sort of chap who always +comes out on top," he ended consolingly. + +Muriel stiffened a little as she sat. She had a curious longing to +hear more, and an equally curious reluctance to ask for it. + +"I never heard anything about it--naturally," she remarked. + +Grange, having fitted the sock on to two fingers, was examining it +with a contemplative air. It struck her abruptly that he was trying to +say something. She waited silently, not without apprehension. She had +no idea as to how much he knew of what had passed between herself and +Nick. + +"I say, Miss Roscoe," he blurted out suddenly, "do you hate talking +about these things--very badly, I mean?" + +She looked up at him, and was surprised to see emotion on his face. It +had an odd effect upon her, placing her unaccountably at her ease with +him, banishing all her stiffness in a moment. She remembered with a +quick warmth at her heart how she had always liked this man in those +far-off days of her father's protection, how she had always found +something reassuring in his gentle courtesy. + +"No," she said, after a moment, speaking with absolute sincerity. "I +can't bear to with--most people; but I don't think I mind with you." + +She saw his pleasant smile for an instant. He laid the sock down upon +her knee, and in doing so touched and lightly pressed her hand. + +"Thank you," he said simply. "I know I'm not good at expressing +myself, but please believe that I wouldn't hurt you for the world. +Miss Roscoe, I have brought some things with me I think you will like +to have--things that belonged to your father. Sir Reginald Bassett +entrusted them to me--left them, in fact, in my charge, as he found +them. I was coming home, and I asked leave to bring them to you. +Perhaps you would like me to fetch them?" + +She was on her feet as he asked the question, on her face such a look +of eagerness as it had not worn for many weary months. + +"Oh, please--if you would!" she said, her words falling fast and +breathless. "It has been--such a grief to me--that I had nothing of +his to--to treasure." + +He turned at once to the door. The desolation that those words of hers +revealed to him went straight to his man's heart. Poor little girl! +Had the parting been so infernally hard as even now to bring that look +to her eyes? Was her father's memory the only interest she had left +in her sad young life? And all the evening, save for that first brief +moment of their meeting, he had been thinking her cold, impassive, +even cynical. + +With a deep pity in his soul he departed on his errand. + +Returning with the soft tread which was his peculiarity, he surprised +her with her face in her hands in an attitude of such abandonment that +he drew back hesitating. But, suddenly aware of him, she sprang up +swiftly, with no sign of tears upon her face. + +"Oh, come in, come in!" she said impatiently. "Why do you stand +there?" + +She ran forward to meet him with hands hungrily outstretched, and +he put into them those trifles which were to her so infinitely +precious--a cigarette-case, a silver match-box, a pen-knife, a little +old prayer-book very worn at the edges, with all the gilt faded from +its leaves. She gathered them to her breast closely, passionately. +All but the prayer-book had been her gifts to the father she had +worshipped. With a wrung heart she called to mind the occasion upon +which each had been offered, his smile of kindly appreciation, the +old-world courtliness of his thanks. With loving hands she laid them +down one by one, lingering over each, seeing them through a blur of +tears. She was no longer conscious of Grange, as reverently, even +diffidently, she opened last of all the little shabby prayer-book that +her father had been wont to take with him on all his marches. She knew +that he had cherished it as her mother's gift. + +It opened upon a scrap of white heather which marked the Service for +the Burial of the Dead. Her tears fell upon the faded sprig, and she +brushed her hand swiftly across her eyes, looking more closely as +certain words underlined caught her attention. Other words had been +written by her father's hand very minutely in the margin. + +The passage underlined was ... "not to be sorry as men without hope, +for them that sleep ..." and in a moment she guessed that her father +had made that mark on the day of her mother's death. It was like a +message to her, the echo of a cry. + +The words in the margin were so small that she had to carry them to +the light to read them. And then they flashed out at her as if +sprung suddenly to light on the white paper. There, in the beloved +handwriting, sure and indelible, she read it, and across the desert +of her heart, voiceless but insistent, there swept the hunger-cry of a +man's soul: OMNIA VINCIT AMOR. + +It pulsed through her like an electric current, seeming to overwhelm +every other sensation, shutting her off as it were from the home-world +to which she had fled, how fruitlessly, for healing. Once more +skeleton fingers held hers, shifting to and fro, to and fro, slowly, +ceaselessly, flashing the deep rays that shone from ruby hearts hither +and thither. Once more--But she would not bear it! She was free! She +was free! She flung out the hand that once had worn those rubies, and, +resisting wildly, broke away from the spell that the words her father +had written had woven afresh for her. + +It might be true that Love conquered all things--he had believed +it--but ah, what had this uncanny force to do with Love? Love was a +pure, a holy thing, the bond imperishable--the Eternal Flame at which +all the little torches of the world are lighted. + +Moreover, there was no fear in Love, and she--she was sick with fear +whenever she encountered that haunting phantom of memory. + +With a start she awoke to the fact that she was not alone. Blake +Grange had taken her out-flung hand, and was speaking to her softly, +soothingly. + +"Don't grieve so awfully, Miss Roscoe," he urged, a slight break in +his own voice. "You're not left friendless. I know how it is. I've +felt like it myself. But it gets better afterwards." + +Muriel suffered him with a dawning sense of comfort. It surprised her +to see tears in his eyes. She wondered vaguely if they were for her. + +"Yes," she said, after a pause. "It does get better, I know, in a way. +Or at least one gets used to an empty heart. One gets to leave off +listening for what one will never, never hear any more." + +"Never is a dreary word," said Grange. + +She bent her head silently, and again his heart overflowed with pity +for her. He looked down at the hand that lay so passively in his. + +"I hope you will always think of me as a friend," he said. + +She looked up at him a quick gleam of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank +you," she said. "Yes, always." + +He still held her hand. "You know," he said, blundering awkwardly, "I +always blamed myself that--that I wasn't the one to be with you when +you escaped from Wara. I might have been. But I--I wasn't prepared to +pay the possible price." + +She was still looking at him with those aloof, tragic eyes of +hers. "I don't quite understand," she said, "I never did +understand--exactly--why Nick was chosen to protect me. I always +wished it had been you." + +"It ought to have been," Grange said, with feeling. "It should have +been. I blame myself. But Nick is a better fighter than I. He keeps +his head. Moreover, he's a savage in some respects. I wasn't savage +enough." + +He smiled with a hint of apology. + +Muriel repressed a shudder at his words. "I don't understand," she +said again. + +He hesitated. "It's a difficult thing to explain to you," he said +reluctantly. "You see, the fellow who took charge of you had to be +prepared for--well--anything. You know what devils those tribesmen +are. There was to be no chance of your falling into their hands. It +didn't mean just fighting for you, you understand. We would all have +done that to the last drop of our blood. But--your father--was forced +to ask of us--something more. And only Ratcliffe would undertake it. +He's a queer chap. I used to think him a rotter till I saw him fight, +and then I had to change my mind. That was, I believe, the main reason +why General Roscoe selected him as your protector. He knew he could +trust the fellow's nerve. The rest of us were like women compared to +Nick." + +He paused. Muriel's eyes had not flinched from his. She heard his +explanation as one not vitally concerned. + +"Have I made myself intelligible?" he asked, as she did not speak. + +"Do you mean I was to be shot if things went wrong?" she returned, in +her deep, quiet voice. + +He nodded. "It must have been that. Your father saw it in that light, +and so did we. Of course you are bound to see it too. But we stuck at +it--Marshall and I. There was only Nick left, and he volunteered." + +"Only Nick left!" she repeated slowly. "Nick would stick at nothing, +Captain Grange." + +"I honestly don't think he would," said Grange. "Still, you know, he's +awfully plucky. He would have gone any length to save you first." + +She drew back with a sudden shrinking of her whole body. "Oh, I know, +I know!" she said. "I sometimes think there is a devil in Nick." + +She turned aside, bending once more over her father's things, putting +them together with unsteady fingers. So this was the answer to the +riddle--the secret of his choice for her! She understood it all now. + +After a short pause, she spoke again more calmly. "Did Nick ever speak +to you about me?" + +"Never," said Grange. + +"Then please, Captain Grange"--she stood up again and faced +him--"never speak to me again about him. I--want to forget him." + +Very young and slight she looked standing there, and again he felt his +heart stir within him with an urgent pity. Vague rumours he had heard +of those few weeks at Simla during which her name and Nick Ratcliffe's +had been coupled together, but he had never definitely known what +had taken place. Had Nick been good to her, he wondered for the first +time? How was it that the bare mention of him was unendurable to +her? What had he done that she should shudder with horror when she +remembered him, and should seek thus with loathing to thrust him out +of her life? + +Involuntarily the man's hands clenched and his blood quickened. Had +the General's trust been misplaced? Was Nick a blackguard? + +Finding her eyes still upon him, he made her a slight bow that was +wholly free from gallantry. + +"I will remember your wish, Miss Roscoe," he said. "I am sorry I +mentioned a painful subject to you, though I am glad for you to know +the truth. You are not vexed with me, I hope?" + +Her eyes shone with sincere friendliness. "I am not vexed," she +answered. "Only--let me forget--that's all." + +And in those few words she voiced the desire of her soul. It was her +one longing, her one prayer--to forget. And it was the one thing of +all others denied to her. + +In the silence that followed, she was conscious of his warm and kindly +sympathy, and she was grateful for it, though something restrained her +from telling him so. + +Daisy, coming lightly in upon them, put an end to their tete-a-tete. +She entered softly, her face alight and tender, and laid her two hands +upon Grange's great shoulders as he sat before the fire. + +"Come upstairs, Blake," she whispered, "and see my baby boy. He's +sleeping so sweetly. I want you to see him first while he's good." + +He raised his face to her smiling, his hands on hers. "I am sure to +admire anything that belongs to you, Daisy," he said. + +"You're a dear old pal," responded Daisy lightly. "Come along." + +When they were gone Muriel spied Will Musgrave's letter lying on +the ground by Grange's chair as it had evidently fallen from Daisy's +dress. She went over and picked it up. It was still unopened. + +With an odd little frown she set it up prominently upon the +mantelpiece. + +"Does Love conquer after all?" she murmured to herself, and there was +a faint twist of cynicism about her lips as she asked the question. +There seemed to be so many forms of Love. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A HERO WORSHIPPER + + +"Well played! Oh, well played! Miss Roscoe, you're a brick." + +The merry voice of the doctor's little daughter Olga, aged fourteen, +shrilled across the hockey-ground, keen with enthusiasm. She was +speeding across the field like a hare to congratulate her latest +recruit. + +"I'm so pleased!" she cried, bursting through the miscellaneous crowd +of boys and girls that surrounded Muriel. "I wanted you to shoot that +goal." + +She herself had been acting as goal-keeper at her own end of the +field, a position of limited opportunities which she had firmly +refused to assign to the new-comer. A child of unusual character was +Olga Ratcliffe, impulsive but shrewd, with quick, pale eyes which +never seemed to take more than a brief glance at anything, yet which +very little ever escaped. At first sight Muriel had experienced a +certain feeling of aversion to her, so marked was the likeness this +child bore to the man whom she desired so passionately to shut out of +her very memory. But a nearer intimacy had weakened her antipathy +till very soon it had altogether disappeared. Olga had a swift and +fascinating fashion of endearing herself to all who caught her fancy +and, somewhat curiously, Muriel was one of the favoured number. What +there was to attract a child of her quick temperament in the grave, +silent girl in mourning who held aloof so coldly from the rest of the +world was never apparent. But that a strong attraction existed for her +was speedily evident, and Muriel, who was quite destitute of any +near relations of her own, soon found that a free admittance to the +doctor's home circle was accorded her on all sides, whenever she chose +to avail herself of it. + +But though Daisy was an immense favourite and often ran into the +Ratcliffes' house, which was not more than a few hundred yards away +from her own little abode, Muriel went but seldom. The doctor's wife, +though always kind, was too busy to seek her out. And so it had been +left to the doctor himself to drag her at length from her seclusion, +and he had done it with a determination that would take no refusal. +She did not know him very intimately, had never asked his advice, +or held any confidential talk with him. At the outset she had been +horribly afraid lest he should have heard of her engagement to Nick, +but, since he never referred to her life in India or to Nick as in any +fashion connected with herself, this fear had gradually subsided. She +was able to tell herself thankfully that Nick was dropping away from +her into the past, and to hope with some conviction that the great +gulf that separated them would never be bridged. + +Yet, notwithstanding this, she had a fugitive wish to know how her +late comrade in adversity was faring. Captain Grange's news regarding +him had aroused in her a vague uneasiness, which would not be quieted. + +She wondered if by any means she could extract any information from +Olga, and this she presently essayed to do, when play was over for the +day and Olga had taken her upstairs to prepare for tea. + +Olga was the easiest person in the world to deal with upon such a +subject. She expanded at the very mention of Nick's name. + +"Oh, do you know him? Isn't he a darling? I have a photograph of him +somewhere. I must try and find it. He is in fancy dress and standing +on his head--such a beauty. Weren't you awfully fond of him? He has +been ill, you know. Dad was very waxy because he wouldn't come home. +He might have had sick leave, but he wouldn't take it. However, he may +have to come yet, Dad says, if something happens. He didn't say what. +It was something to do with his wound. Dad wants him to leave the Army +and settle down on his estate. He owns a big place about twelve miles +away that an old great-aunt of his left him. Dad thinks a landowner +ought to live at home if he can afford to. And of course Nick might go +into Parliament too. He's so clever, and rich as well. But he won't do +it. So it's no good talking." + +Olga jumped off the dressing-table, and wound her arm impulsively +through Muriel's. "Miss Roscoe," she said coaxingly, "I do like you +most awfully. May I call you by your Christian name?" + +"Why, do!" Muriel said. "I should like it best." + +"Oh, that's all right," said Olga, well pleased. "I knew you weren't +stuck-up really. I hate stuck-up people, don't you? I'm awfully +pleased that you like Nick. I simply love him--better almost than any +one else. He writes to me sometimes, pages and pages. I never show +them to any one, and he doesn't show mine either. You see, we're pals. +But I can show you his photograph--the one I told you about. It's just +like him--his grin and all. Come up after tea, and I'll find it." + +And with her arm entwined in Muriel's she drew her, still talking +eagerly, from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +NEWS FROM THE EAST + + +"I have been wondering," Grange said in his shy, rather diffident way, +"if you would care to do any riding while I am here." + +"I?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. + +They were walking back from church together by a muddy field-path, and +since neither had much to say at any time, they had accomplished more +than half the distance in silence. + +"I know you do ride," Grange explained, "and it's just the sort of +country for a good gallop now and then. Daisy isn't allowed to, but I +thought perhaps you--" + +"Oh, I should like to, of course," Muriel said. "I haven't done any +riding since I left Simla. I didn't care to alone." + +"Ah! Lady Bassett rides, doesn't she? She is an accomplished +horsewoman, I believe?" + +"I don't know," Muriel's reply was noticeably curt. "I never rode with +her." + +Grange at once dropped the subject, and they became silent again. +Muriel walked with her eyes fixed straight before her. But she did not +see the brown earth underfoot or the bare trees that swayed overhead +in the racing winter wind. She was back again in the heart of the +Simla pines, hearing horses' feet that stamped below her window in the +dawning, and a gay, cracked voice that sang. + +Her companion's voice recalled her. "I suppose Daisy will stay here +for the summer." + +"I suppose so," she answered. + +Grange went on with some hesitation. "The little chap doesn't look as +if he would ever stand the Indian climate. What will happen? Will she +ever consent to leave him with the Ratcliffes?" + +"I am quite certain she won't," Muriel answered, with unfaltering +conviction. "She simply lives for him." + +"I thought so," Grange said rather sadly. "It would go hard with her +if--if--" + +Muriel's dark eyes flashed swift entreaty. "Oh, don't say it! Don't +think it! I believe it would kill her." + +"She is stronger, though?" he questioned almost sharply. + +"Yes, yes, much stronger. Only--not strong enough for that. Captain +Grange, it simply couldn't happen." + +They had reached a gate at the end of the field. Grange stopped before +it, and spoke with sudden, deep feeling. + +"If it does happen, Muriel," he said, using her Christian name quite +unconsciously, "we shall have to stand by her, you and I. You won't +leave her, will you? You would be of more use to her than I. Oh, +it's--it's damnable to see a woman in trouble and not be able to +comfort her." + +He brought his ungloved hand down upon the gate-post with a violence +that drew blood; then, seeing her face of amazement, thrust it hastily +behind him. + +"I'm a fool," he said, with his shy, semi-apologetic smile. "Don't +mind me, Miss Roscoe. You know, I--I'm awfully fond of Daisy, always +was. My people were her people, and when they died we were the only +two left, as it were. Of course she was married by that time, and +there are some other relations somewhere. But we've always hung +together, she and I. You can understand it, can't you?" + +Muriel fancied she could, but his vehemence startled her none the +less. She had not deemed him capable of such intensity. + +"I suppose you feel almost as if she were your sister," she remarked, +groping half-unconsciously for an explanation. + +Grange was holding the gate open for her. He did not instantly reply. + +Then, "I don't exactly know what that feels like," he said, with an +odd shame-facedness. "But in so far as that we have been playfellows +and chums all our lives, I suppose you might describe it in that way." + +And Muriel, though she wondered a little at the laborious honesty of +his reply, was satisfied that she understood. + +She was drifting into a very pleasant friendship with Blake Grange. +He seemed to rely upon her in an indefinable fashion that made their +intercourse of necessity one of intimacy. Moreover, Daisy's habits +were still more or less those of an invalid, and this fact helped very +materially to throw them together. + +To Muriel, emerging slowly from the long winter of her sorrow, the +growing friendship with this man whom she both liked and admired was +as a shaft of sunshine breaking across a grey landscape. Insensibly +it was doing her good. The deep shadow of a horror that once had +overwhelmed her was lifting gradually away from her life. In her +happier moments it almost seemed that she was beginning to forget. + +Grange's suggestion that they should ride together awoke in her a +keener sense of pleasure than she had known since the tragedy of Wara +had darkened her young life, and for the rest of the day she looked +forward eagerly to the resumption of this her favourite exercise. + +Daisy was delighted with the idea, and when on the following morning +Grange ransacked the town for suitable mounts and returned triumphant, +she declared gaily that she should take no further trouble for her +guest's entertainment. The responsibility from that day forth rested +with Muriel. + +Muriel was by no means loth to assume it. They got on excellently +together, and their almost daily rides became a source of keen +pleasure to her. Winter was fast merging into spring, and the magic +of the coming season was working in her blood. There were times when +a sense of spontaneous happiness would come over her, she knew not +wherefore. Jim Ratcliffe no longer looked at her with stern-browed +disapproval. + +She and Grange both became regular members of Olga's hockey team. They +shared most of their pursuits. Among other things she was learning the +accompaniments of his songs. Grange had a well-cultivated tenor voice, +to which Daisy the restless would listen for any length of time. + +Altogether they were a very peaceful trio, and as the weeks slipped on +it almost seemed as if the quiet home life they lived were destined to +endure indefinitely. Grange spoke occasionally of leaving, but Daisy +would never entertain the idea for an instant, and he certainly did +not press it very strongly. He was not returning to India before +September, and the long summer months that intervened made the date +of his departure so remote as to be outside discussion. No one ever +thought of it. + +But the long, quiet interval in the sleepy little country town, +interminable as it might feel, was not destined to last for ever. On +a certain afternoon in March, Grange and Muriel, riding home together +after a windy gallop across open country, were waylaid outside the +doctor's gate by one of the Ratcliffe boys. + +The urchin was cheering at the top of his voice and dancing +ecstatically in the mud. Olga, equally dishevelled but somewhat more +coherent, was seated on the gate-post, her long legs dangling. + +"Have you seen Dad? Have you heard?" was her cry. "Jimmy, come out of +the road. You'll be kicked." + +Both riders pulled up to hear the news, Jimmy squirming away from +the horses' legs after a fashion that provoked even the mild-tempered +Grange to a sharp reproof. + +"You haven't heard?" pursued Olga, ignoring her small brother's +escapade as too trifling to notice at such a supreme moment. "But you +haven't, of course, if you haven't seen Dad. The letter only came an +hour ago. It's Nick, dear old Nick! He's coming home at last!" In +her delight over imparting the information Olga nearly toppled over +backwards, only saving herself by a violent effort. "Aren't you glad, +Muriel? Aren't you glad?" she cried. "I was never so pleased in my +life!" + +But Muriel had no reply ready. For some reason her animal had become +suddenly restive, and occupied the whole of her attention. + +It was Grange who after a seconds hesitation asked for further +particulars. "What is he coming for? Is it sick leave?" + +Olga nodded. "He isn't to stay out there for the hot weather. It's +something to do with his wound. He doesn't want to come a bit. But he +is to start almost at once. He may be starting now." + +"Not likely," put in Jimmy. "The end of March was what he said. Dad +said he couldn't be here before the third week in April." + +"Oh, well, that isn't long, is it?" said Olga eagerly. "Not when you +come to remember that it's three years since he went away. I do think +they might have given him the V.C., don't you? Captain Grange, why +hasn't he got the V.C.?" + +Grange couldn't say, really. He advised her to ask the man himself. +He was observing Muriel with some uneasiness, and when she at length +abruptly waved her whip and rode sharply on as though her horse +were beyond her control, he struck spurs into his own and started in +pursuit. + +Muriel passed her own gate at a canter, but hearing Grange behind her +she soon reined in, and they trotted some distance side by side in +silence. + +But Grange was still uneasy. The girl's rigid profile had that stony, +aloof look that he had noted upon his arrival weeks before, and that +he had come to associate with her escape from Wara. + +Nevertheless, when she presently addressed him it was in her ordinary +tone and upon a subject indifferent to them both. She had received a +shock, he knew, but she plainly did not wish him to remark it. + +They rode quite soberly back again, and separated at the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +A HARBOUR OF REFUGE + + +To Daisy the news that Grange imparted was more pleasing than +startling. "I knew he would come before long if he were a wise man," +she said. + +But when her cousin wanted to know what she meant, she would not tell +him. + +"No, I can't, Blake," was her answer. "I once promised Muriel never to +speak of it. She is very sensitive on the subject." + +Grange did not press for an explanation. It was not his way. He left +her moodily, a frown of deep dissatisfaction upon his handsome face. +Daisy did not spend much thought upon him. Her interests at that +time were almost wholly centred upon her boy who was so backward and +delicate that she was continually anxious about him. She was, in fact, +so preoccupied that she hardly noticed at dinner that Muriel scarcely +spoke and ate next to nothing. + +Grange remarked both facts, and his moodiness increased. When +Daisy went up to the nursery, he at once followed Muriel into the +drawing-room. She was standing by the window when he entered, a slim, +straight figure in unrelieved black; but though she must have heard +him, she neither spoke nor turned her head. + +Grange closed the door and came softly forward. There was an unwonted +air of resolution about him that made him look almost grim. He reached +her side and stood there silently. The wind had fallen, and the sky +was starry. + +After a brief silence Muriel dropped the blind and looked at him. +There was something of interrogation in her glance. + +"Shall we go into the garden?" she suggested. "It is so warm." + +He fell in at once with the proposal. "You will want a cloak," he +said. "Can I fetch you one?" + +"Oh, thanks! Anything will do. I believe there's one of Daisy's in the +hall." + +She moved across the room quickly, as one impatient to escape from a +confined space. Grange followed her. He was not smoking as usual. They +went out together into the warm darkness, and passed side by side +down the narrow path that wound between the bare flower-beds. It was +a wonderful night. Once as they walked there drifted across them a +sudden fragrance of violets. + +They reached at length a rustic gate that led into the doctor's +meadow, and here with one consent they stopped. Very far away a faint +wind was stirring, but close at hand there was no sound. Again, from +the wet earth by the gate, there rose the magic scent of violets. + +Muriel rested her clasped hands upon the gate, and spoke in a voice +unconsciously hushed. + +"I never realised how much I liked this place before," she said. +"Isn't it odd? I have been actually happy here--and I didn't know it." + +"You are not happy to-night," said Grange. + +She did not attempt to contradict him. "I think I am rather tired," +she said. + +"I don't think that is quite all," he returned, with quiet conviction. + +She moved, turning slightly towards him; but she said nothing, though +he obviously waited for some response. + +For awhile he was discouraged, and silence fell again upon them. Then +at length he braced himself for an effort. For all his shyness he was +not without a certain strength. + +"Miss Roscoe," he said, "do you remember how you once promised that +you would always regard me as a friend?" + +She turned fully towards him then, and he saw her face dimly in the +starlight. He thought she looked very pale. + +"I do," she said simply. + +In a second his diffidence fell away from him. He realised that the +ground on which he stood was firm. He bent towards her. + +"I want you to keep that promise of yours in its fullest sense +to-night, Muriel," he said, and his soft voice had in it almost a +caressing note. "I want you--if you will--to tell me what is the +matter." + +Muriel stood before him with her face upturned. He could not read her +expression, but he knew by her attitude that she had no thought of +repelling him. + +"What is it?" he urged gently. "Won't you tell me?" + +"Don't you know?" she asked him slowly. + +"I only know that what we heard this afternoon upset you," he +answered. "And I don't understand it. I am asking you to explain." + +"You will only think me very foolish and absurd." + +There was a deep quiver in the words, and he knew that she was +trembling. Very kindly he laid his hand upon her shoulder. + +"Can't you trust me better than that?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Her breathing became suddenly sharp and +irregular, and he realised that she was battling for self-control. + +"I don't know if I can make you understand," she said at last. "But I +will try." + +"Yes, try!" he said gently. "You won't find it so very difficult." + +She turned back to the gate, and leaned wearily upon it. + +"You are very kind. You always have been. I couldn't tell any one +else--not even Daisy. You see, she is--his friend. But you are +different. I don't think you like him, do you?" + +Grange hesitated a little. "I won't go so far as to say that," he +said finally. "We get on all right. I was never very intimate with the +fellow. I think he is a bit callous." + +"Callous!" Muriel gave a sudden hard shudder. "He is much worse than +callous. He is hideously, almost devilishly cruel. But--but--he isn't +only that. Blake, do you think he is quite human? He is so horribly, +so unnaturally strong." + +Grange heard the scared note in her voice, and drew very close to her. +"I think," he said quietly, "that--without knowing it--you exaggerate +both his cruelty and his strength. I know he is a queer chap. I once +heard it said of him that he has the eyes of a snake-charmer, and I +believe it more or less. But I assure you he is human--quite human. +And"--he spoke with unwonted emphasis--"he has no more power over +you--not an inch--than you choose to give him." + +Muriel uttered a faint sigh. "I knew I should never make you +understand." + +Grange was silent. He might have retorted that she had given him very +little information to go upon, but he forebore. There was an almost +colossal patience about this man. His silence had in it nothing of +resentment. + +After a few seconds Muriel went on, her voice very low. "I would give +anything--all I have--not to meet him when he comes back. But I don't +know how to get away from him. He is sure to seek me out. And I--I am +only a girl. I can't prevent it." + +Again there sounded that piteous quiver in her words. It was like the +cry of a lost child. Grange heard it, and clenched his hands, but he +did not speak. He was gazing straight ahead, stern-eyed and still. + +Muriel scarcely noticed his attitude. Having at length broken through +her barrier of reserve, she found a certain relief in speech. + +"I might go away, of course," she said. "I expect I shall do that, for +I don't think I could endure it here. But I haven't many friends. +My year in India seemed to cut me off from every one. It's a little +difficult to know where to go. And then, too, there is Daisy." + +She paused, and suddenly Grange spoke, with more abruptness than was +his wont. + +"Why do you think he is sure to seek you out? Did he ever say so?" + +She shivered. "No, he never said so. But--but--in a way I feel it. +He is so merciless. He always makes me think of an eagle swooping +down on its prey. No doubt you think me very fanciful and ridiculous. +Perhaps I am. But once--in the mountains--he told me that I belonged +to him--that he would not let me go, and--and--I have never been able +to forget it." + +Her voice sank, and it seemed to Grange that she was crying in the +darkness. Her utter forlornness pierced him to the heart. He leaned +towards her, trying ineffectually to see her face. + +"My dear little girl," he said gently, "don't be so distressed. He +deserves to be kicked for frightening you like this." + +"It's my own fault," she whispered back. "If I were stronger, or if +Daddy were with me--it would be different. But I am all alone. There +is no one to help me. I used to think it didn't matter what happened +to me, but I am beginning to feel it does." + +"Of course it does," Grange said. His hand felt along the rail for +hers, and, finding them, held them closely. Her weakness gave him +confidence. "Poor child!" he murmured softly. "Poor little girl! You +do want some one to take care of you." + +Muriel mastered herself with an effort. It was not often now that she +gave way so completely. + +"It's only now and then," she said. "It's better than it used to be. +Only somehow I got frightened when I heard that Nick was coming. I +daresay--when I begin to get used to the idea--I shan't mind it quite +so much. Never mind about my silly worries any more. No doubt I shall +get wiser as I grow older." + +She tried to laugh with the words, but somehow no laugh came. Grange's +great hand closed very tightly upon hers, and she looked up in +surprise. + +Almost instantly he began to speak, very humbly, but also very +resolutely. "Muriel," he said, "I'm an unutterable fool at expressing +things. I can only say them straight out and hope for the best. You +want a protector, don't you? And I--should like to be the one to +protect you if--if it were ever possible for you to think of me in +that light." + +He spoke with immense effort. He was afraid of scaring her, afraid of +hurting her desolate young heart, afraid almost of the very impulse +that moved him to speak. + +Absolute silence reigned when he ended. + +Muriel had become suddenly rigid, and so still that she did not seem +to breathe. For several seconds he waited, but still she made no sign. +He had not the remotest clue to guide him. He began to feel as if a +door had unexpectedly closed against him, not violently, but steadily, +soundlessly, barring him out. + +It was but a fleeting impression. In a few moments more it was gone. +She drew a long quivering breath, and turned slightly towards him. + +"I would rather trust myself to you," she said, "than to any one else +in the world." + +She spoke in her deep, sincere voice which gave him no doubt that she +meant what she said, and at once his own trepidation departed. He put +his arm around her, and pressed her close to him. + +"Come to me then," he said very tenderly. "And I will take such care +of you, Muriel, that no one shall ever frighten you again." + +She yielded to his touch as simply as a child, leaning her head +against him with a little, weary gesture of complete confidence. She +was desperately tired of standing alone. + +"I know I shall be safe with you," she whispered. + +"Quite safe, dear," he answered gravely. He paused a moment as though +irresolute; then, still holding her closely, he bent and kissed her +forehead. + +He did it very quietly and reverently, but at the action she started, +almost shrank. One of those swift flashes of memory came suddenly upon +her, and as in a vision she beheld another face bending over her--a +yellow, wrinkled face of terrible emaciation, with eyes of flickering +fire--eyes that never slept--and heard a voice, curiously broken +and incoherent that seemed to pray. She could not catch the words it +uttered. + +The old wild panic rushed over her, the old frenzied longing to +escape. With a sobbing gasp she turned in Grange's arms, and clung to +him. + +"Oh, Captain Grange," she panted piteously, "promise--promise you will +never let me go!" + +Her agitation surprised him, but it awaked in him a responsive +tenderness that compassed her with a strength bred rather of emergency +than habit. + +"My little girl, I swear I will never let you go," he said, with grave +assurance. "You are quite safe now. No one shall ever take you from +me." + +And it was to Muriel as if, after long and futile battling in the open +sea, she had drifted at last into the calm heaven which surely had +always been the goal of her desires. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AN OLD STORY + + +Jim Ratcliffe was in the drawing-room with Daisy when they returned. +He scrutinised them both somewhat sharply as they came in, but he made +no comment upon their preference for the garden. Very soon he rose to +take his leave. + +Grange accompanied him to the door, and Muriel, suddenly possessed by +an overwhelming sense of shyness, bent over Daisy and murmured a hasty +goodnight. + +Daisy looked at her for a moment. "Tired, dear?" + +"A little," Muriel admitted. + +"I hope you haven't been catching cold--you and Blake," Daisy said, as +she kissed her. + +Muriel assured her to the contrary, and hastened to make her escape. +In the hall she came face to face with Blake. He met her with a smile. + +"What! Going up already?" + +She nodded. Her face was burning. For an instant her hand lay in his. + +"You tell Daisy," she whispered, and fled upstairs like a scared bird. + +Grange stood till she was out of sight; then turned aside to the +drawing-room, the smile wholly gone from his face. + +Daisy, from her seat before the fire, looked up with her gay laugh. +"I'm sure there is a secret brewing between you two," she declared. "I +can feel it in my bones." + +Grange closed the door carefully. There was a queer look on his face, +almost an apprehensive look. He took up his stand on the hearthrug +before he spoke. + +"You are not far wrong, Daisy," he said then. + +She answered him lightly as ever. "I never am, my dear Blake. Surely +you must have noticed it. Well, am I to be let into the plot, or not?" + +He looked at her for a moment uneasily. "Of course we shall tell you," +he said. "It--it's not a thing we could very well keep to ourselves +for any length of time." + +A sudden gleam of understanding flashed into Daisy's upturned face, +and instantly her expression changed. With a swift, vehement movement +she sprang up and stood before him. + +"Blake!" she exclaimed, and in her voice astonishment, dismay, and +even reproach were mingled. + +He averted his eyes from hers. "Won't you congratulate me, Daisy?" he +said, speaking almost under his breath. + +Daisy had turned very white. She put out both hands, and leaned upon +the mantelpiece. + +"But, my dear Blake," she said, after a moment, "she is not for you." + +"What do you mean?" Grange's jaw suddenly set itself. He squared +his great shoulders as if instinctively bracing himself to meet +opposition. + +"I mean"--Daisy spoke very quietly and emphatically--"I mean, Blake, +that she is Nick's property. She belonged to Nick before ever you +thought of wanting her. I never dreamed that you would do anything +so shabby as to step in at the last moment, just when Nick is coming +home, and cut him out. How could you do such a thing, Blake? But +surely it isn't irrevocable? You can't have said anything definite?" + +Grange's face had become very stern. He no longer avoided her eyes. +For once he was really angry, and showed it. + +"You make a mistake," he told her curtly. "I have done nothing +whatever of which I am ashamed, or of which any man could be ashamed. +Certainly I have taken a definite step. I have proposed to her, and +she has accepted me. With regard to Nick Ratcliffe, I believe myself +that the fellow is something of a blackguard, but in any case she both +fears and hates him. He can have no shadow of a right over her." + +"You forget that he saved her life," said Daisy. + +"Is she to hold herself at his disposal on that account? I must say I +fail to see the obligation." + +There was even a hint of scorn in Grange's tone. At sound of it, Daisy +turned round and laid her hand winningly upon his arm. + +"Dear old boy," she said gently, "don't be angry. I'm not against +you." + +He softened instantly. It was not in him to harbour resentment against +a woman. He took her hand, and heaved a deep sigh. + +"No, Daisy," he said half sadly, "you mustn't be against me. I always +count on you." + +Daisy laughed a little wistfully. "Always did, dear, didn't you? Well, +tell me some more. What made you propose all of a sudden like this? +Are you--very much in love?" + +He looked at her. "Perhaps not quite as we used to understand the +term," he said, seeming to speak half-reluctantly. + +"Oh, we were very extravagant and foolish," rejoined Daisy lightly. +"I didn't mean quite in that way, Blake. You at least are past the age +for such feathery nonsense, or should be. I was--aeons and aeons ago." + +"Were you?" he said, and still he looked at her half in wonder, it +seemed, and half in regret. + +Daisy nodded at him briskly. The colour had come back to her face. +"Yes, I have arrived at years of discretion," she assured him. "And I +quite agree with Solomon that childhood and youth are vanity. But now +let us talk about this. Is she in love with you, I wonder? I must be +remarkably blind not to have seen it. How in the world I shall ever +face Nick again, I can't imagine." + +Grange frowned. "I'm getting a bit tired of Nick," he said moodily. +"He crops up everywhere." + +Daisy's face flushed. "Don't you ever again say a word against him in +my hearing," she said. "For I won't bear it. He may not be handsome +like you; but for all that, he's about the finest man I know." + +"Good heavens!" said Blake. "As much as that!" + +She nodded vehemently. "Yes, quite as much. And he loves her, too, +loves her with his whole soul. Perhaps you never knew that they would +have been married long ago in Simla if Muriel hadn't overheard some +malicious gossip and thrown him over. How in the world she made him +let her go I never knew, but she did it, though I believe it nearly +broke his heart. He came to me afterwards and begged me to keep her +with me as long as I could, and take care of her." + +"All this," broke in Grange, "is what you promised never to speak of?" + +"Yes," she admitted recklessly. "But it is what you ought to +know--what you must know--before you go any further." + +"It will make no difference to me," he observed. "It is quite obvious +that she never cared for him in the smallest degree. Why, my dear +girl, she hates the man!" + +Daisy gave vent to a sigh of exasperation. "When you come to talk +about women's feelings, Blake, you make me tired. You will never be +anything but a great big booby in that respect as long as you live." + +Grange became silent. He never argued with Daisy. She had always had +the upper hand. He watched her as she sat down again, her pretty face +in the glow of the fire; but though fully aware of the fact, she would +not look at him. + +"She is a dear girl, and you are not half good enough for her," she +said, stooping a little to the blaze. + +"I know that," he answered bluntly. "I wasn't good enough for you, +either, but you would have had me--once." + +She made a dainty gesture with one shoulder. "That also was aeons ago. +Why disturb that poor old skeleton?" + +He did not answer, but he continued to watch her steadily with eyes +that held an expression of dumb faithfulness--like the eyes of a dog. + +Daisy was softly and meditatively poking the fire. "If you marry her, +Blake," she said, "you will have to be enormously good to her. She +isn't the sort of girl to be satisfied with anything but the best." + +"I should do my utmost to make her happy," he answered. + +She glanced up momentarily. "I wonder if you would succeed," she +murmured. + +For a single instant their eyes met. Daisy's fell away at once, and +the firelight showed a swift deepening of colour on her face. + +As for Blake, he stood quite stiff for a few seconds, then with an +abruptness of movement unusual with him, he knelt suddenly down beside +her. + +"Daisy," he said, and his voice sounded strained, almost hoarse, +"you're not vexed about it? You don't mind my marrying? It isn't--you +know--it isn't--as if--" + +He broke off, for Daisy had jerked upright as if at the piercing of a +nerve. She looked at him fully, with blazing eyes. "How can you be so +ridiculous, Blake?" she exclaimed, with sharp impatience. "That was +all over and done with long, long ago, and you know it. Besides, even +if it hadn't been, I'm not a dog in the manger. Surely you know that +too. Oh, go away, and don't be absurd!" + +She put her hand against his shoulder, and gave him a small but +vehement push. + +He stood up again immediately, but he did not look hurt, and the +expression of loyalty in his eyes never wavered. + +There was a short pause before Daisy spoke again. + +"Well," she said, with a brief sigh, "I suppose it's no good crying +over spilt milk, but I wish you had chosen any girl in the world but +Muriel, Blake; I do indeed. You will have to write to Sir Reginald +Bassett. He is her guardian, subject to his wife's management. Perhaps +she will approve of you. She hated Nick for some reason." + +"I don't see how they can object," Grange said, in the moody tone he +always used when perplexed. + +"No," said Daisy. "Nor did Nick. But Lady Bassett managed to put a +spoke in his wheel notwithstanding. Still, if Muriel wants to marry +you--or thinks she does--she will probably take her own way. And +possibly regret it afterwards." + +"You think I shall not make her happy?" said Grange. + +Daisy hesitated a little. "I think," she said slowly, "that you are +not the man for her. However,"--she rose with another shrug--"I may +be wrong. In any case you have gone too far for me to meddle. I can't +help either of you now. You must just do what you think best." She +held out her hand. "I must go up now. Baby is restless to-night, and +may want me. Good-night." + +Blake stooped, and carried her hand softly and suddenly to his lips. +He seemed for an instant on the verge of saying something, but no +words came. There was a faint, half-mocking smile on Daisy's face +as she turned away. But she was silent also. It seemed that they +understood each other. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE SLEEP CALLED DEATH + + +It was an unspeakable relief to Muriel that, in congratulating her +upon her engagement, Daisy made no reference to Nick. She did not know +that this forbearance had been dictated long before by Nick himself. + +The days that followed her engagement had in them a sort of rapture +that she had never known before. She felt as a young wild creature +suddenly escaped from the iron jaws of a trap in which it had long +languished, and she rioted in the sense of liberty that was hers. Her +youth was coming back to her in leaps and bounds with the advancing +spring. + +She missed nothing in Blake's courtship. His gentleness had always +attracted her, and the intimacy that had been growing up between them +made their intercourse always easy and pleasant. They never spoke of +Nick. But ever in Muriel's heart there lay the soothing knowledge that +she had nothing more to fear. Her terrible, single-handed contests +against overwhelming odds were over, and she was safe. She was +convinced that, whatever happened, Blake would take care of her. Was +he not the protector she would have chosen from the beginning, could +she but have had her way? + +So, placidly and happily, the days drifted by, till March was nearly +gone; and then, sudden and staggering as a shell from a masked +battery, there fell the blow that was destined to end that peaceful +time. + +Very late one night there came a nervous knocking at Muriel's door, +and springing up from her bed she came face to face with Daisy's +_ayah_. The woman was grey with fright, and babbling incoherently. +Something about "baba" and the "mem-sahib" Muriel caught and instantly +guessed that the baby had been taken ill. She flung a wrap round her, +and hastened to the nursery. + +It was a small room opening out of Daisy's bedroom. The light was +turned on full, and here Daisy herself was walking up and down with +the baby in her arms. + +Before Muriel was well in the room, she stopped and spoke. Her face +was ghastly pale, and she could not raise her voice above a whisper, +though she made repeated efforts. "Go to Blake!" she panted. "Go +quickly! Tell him to fetch Jim Ratcliffe. Quick! Quick!" + +Muriel flew to do her bidding. In her anxiety she scarcely waited to +knock at Blake's door, but burst in upon him headlong. The room was in +total darkness, but he awoke instantly. + +"Hullo! What is it? That you, Muriel?" + +"Oh, Blake!" she gasped. "The child's ill. We want the doctor." + +He was up in a moment. She heard him groping for matches, but he only +succeeded in knocking something over. + +"Can't you find them?" she asked. "Wait! I'll get you a light." + +She ran back to her own room and fetched a candle. Her hands were +shaking so that she could scarcely light it. Returning, she found +Grange putting on his clothes in the darkness. He was fully as +flurried as she. + +As she set down the candle there arose a sudden awful sound in Daisy's +room. + +Muriel stood still. "Oh, what is that?" + +Grange paused in the act of dragging on his coat. "It's that damned +_ayah_," he said savagely. + +And in a second Muriel understood. Daisy's _ayah_ was wailing for the +dead. + +She put her hands over her ears. The dreadful cry seemed to pierce +right through to her very soul. Then she remembered Daisy, and turned +to go to her. + +Out in the passage she met the white-faced English servants huddling +together and whispering. One of them was sobbing hysterically. She +passed them swiftly by. + +Back in Daisy's room she found the _ayah_ crouched on the floor, and +rocking herself to and fro while she beat her breast and wailed. The +door that led into the nursery was closed. + +Muriel advanced fiercely upon the woman. She almost felt as if +she could have choked her. She seized her by the shoulders without +ceremony. The _ayah_ ceased her wailing for a moment, then recommenced +in a lower key. Muriel pulled her to her feet, half-dragged, half-led +her to her own room, thrust her within, and locked the door upon her. +Then she returned to Daisy. + +She found her sunk in a rocking-chair before the waning fire, softly +swaying to and fro with the baby on her breast. She looked at Muriel +entering, with a set, still face. + +"Has Blake gone?" she asked, still in that dry, powerless whisper. + +Muriel moved to her side, and knelt down. "He is just going," she +began to say, but the words froze on her lips. + +She remained motionless for a long second, gazing at the tiny, waxen +face on Daisy's breast. And for that second her heart stood still; for +she knew that the baby was dead. + +From the closed room across the passage came the muffled sound of the +_ayah's_ wailing. Daisy made a slight impatient movement. + +"Stir the fire," she whispered. "He feels so cold." + +But Muriel did not move to obey. Instead she held out her arms. + +"Let me take him, dear," she begged tremulously. Daisy shook her head +with a jealous tightening of her clasp. "He has been so ill, poor wee +darling," she whispered. "It came on so suddenly. There was no time +to do anything. But he is easier now. I think he is asleep. We won't +disturb him." + +Muriel said no more. She rose and blindly poked the fire. Then--for +the sight of Daisy rocking her dead child with that set, ashen face +was more than she could bear--she turned and stole away, softly +closing the door behind her. + +Again meeting the English servants hovering outside, she sent them +downstairs to light the kitchen fire, going herself to the dining-room +window to watch for the doctor. Her feet were bare and freezing, but +she would not return to her room for slippers. She felt she could not +endure that awful wailing at close quarters again. Even as it was, she +heard it fitfully; but from the nursery there came no sound. + +She wondered if Blake had gone across the meadow to the doctor's +house--it was undoubtedly the shortest cut--and tried to calculate how +long it would take him. + +The waiting was intolerable. She bore it with a desperate endurance. +She could not rid herself of the feeling that somehow Nick was near +her. She almost expected to see him come lightly in and stand beside +her. Once or twice she turned shivering to assure herself that she was +really alone. + +There came at last the click of the garden-gate. They had come across +the drenched meadows. In a transient gleam of moonlight she saw the +two figures striding towards her. Grange stopped a moment to fasten +the gate. The doctor came straight on. + +She ran to the front door and threw it open. The wind blew swirling +all about her, but she never felt it, though her very lips were numb +and cold. + +"It's too late!" she gasped, as he entered. "It's too late!" + +Jim Ratcliffe took her by the shoulders and forced her away from the +open door. + +"Go and put something on," he ordered, "instantly!" + +There was no resisting the mastery of his tone. She responded to it +instinctively, hardly knowing what she did. + +The _ayah's_ paroxysm of grief had sunk to a low moaning when she +re-entered her room. It sounded like a dumb creature in pain. Hastily +she dressed, and twisted up her hair with fingers that she strove in +vain to steady. + +Then noiselessly she crept back to the nursery. + +Daisy was still rocking softly to and fro before the ore, her piteous +burden yet clasped against her heart. The doctor was stooping over +her, and Muriel saw the half-eager, half-suspicious look in Daisy's +eyes as she watched him. She was telling him in rapid whispers what +had happened. + +He listened to her very quietly, his keen eyes fixed unblinking upon +the baby's face. When she ended, he stooped a little lower, his hand +upon her arm. + +"Let me take him," he said. + +Muriel trembled for the answer, remembering the instant refusal with +which her own offer had been met. But Daisy made no sort of protest. +She seemed to yield mechanically. + +Only, as he lifted the tiny body from her breast, a startled, almost +a bereft look crossed her face, and she whispered quickly, "You won't +let him cry?" + +Jim Ratcliffe was silent a moment while he gazed intently at the +little lifeless form he held. Then very gently, very pitifully, but +withal very steadily, his verdict fell through the silent room. + +"He will never cry any more." + +Daisy was on her feet in a moment, the agony in her eyes terrible to +see. "Jim! Jim!" she gasped, in a strangled voice. "He isn't dead! +My little darling,--my baby,--the light of my eyes; tell me--he +isn't--dead!" + +She bent hungrily over the burden he held, and then gazed wildly into +his face. She was shaking as one in an ague. + +Quietly he drew the head-covering over the baby's face. "My dear," he +said, "there is no death." + +The words were few, spoken almost in an undertone; but they sent a +curious, tingling thrill through Muriel--a thrill that seemed to +reach her heart. For the first time, unaccountably, wholly intangibly, +she was aware of a strong resemblance between this man whom she +honoured and the man she feared. She almost felt as if Nick himself +had uttered the words. + +Standing dumbly by the door, she saw the doctor stoop to lay the poor +little body down in the cot, saw Daisy's face of anguish, and the +sudden, wide-flung spread of her empty arms. + +The next moment, her woman's instinct prompting her, she sprang +forward; and it was she who caught the stricken mother as she fell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE CREED OF A FIGHTER + + +It was growing very hot in the plains. A faint breeze born at sunset +had died away long ago, leaving a wonderful, breathless stillness +behind. The man who sat at work on his verandah with his shirt-sleeves +turned up above his elbows sighed heavily from time to time as if +he felt some oppression in the atmosphere. He was quite a young man, +fair-skinned and clean-shaven, with an almost pathetically boyish look +about him, a wistful expression as of one whose youth still endured +though the zest thereof was denied to him. His eyes were weary and +bloodshot, but he worked on steadily, indefatigably, never raising +them from the paper under his hand. + +Even when a step sounded in the room behind him, he scarcely looked +up. "One moment, old chap!" He was still working rapidly as he spoke. +"I've a toughish bit to get through. I'll talk to you in a minute." + +There was no immediate reply. A man's figure, dressed in white linen, +with one arm quite invisible under the coat, stood halting for a +moment in the doorway, then moved out and slowly approached the table +at which the other sat. + +The lamplight, gleaming upwards, revealed a yellow face of many +wrinkles, and curious, glancing eyes that shone like fireflies in the +gloom. + +He stopped beside the man who worked. "All right," he said. "Finish +what you are doing." + +In the silence that followed he seemed to watch the hand that moved +over the paper with an absorbing interest. The instant it rested he +spoke. + +"Done?" + +The man in the chair stretched out his arms with a long gesture of +weariness; then abruptly leapt to his feet. + +"What am I thinking of, keeping you standing here? Sit down, Nick! +Yes, I've done for the present. What a restless beggar you are! Why +couldn't you lie still for a spell?" + +Nick grimaced. "It's an accomplishment I have never been able to +acquire. Besides, there's no occasion for it now. If I were going to +die, it would be a different thing, and even then I think I'd +rather die standing. How are you getting on, my son? What mean these +hieroglyphics?" + +He dropped into the empty chair and pored over the paper. + +"Oh, you wouldn't understand if I told you," the other answered. +"You're not an engineer." + +"Not even a greaser of wheels." admitted Nick modestly. "But you +needn't throw it in my teeth. I suppose you are going to make your +fortune soon and retire--you and Daisy and the imp--to a respectable +suburb. You're a very lucky chap, Will." + +"Think so?" said Will. + +He was bending a little over his work. His tone sounded either absent +or dubious. + +Nick glanced at him, and suddenly swept his free right hand across the +table. "Put it away!" he said. "You're overdoing it. Get the wretched +stuff out of your head for a bit, and let's have a smoke before +dinner. I'll bring her out to you next winter. See if I don't!" + +Will turned towards him impulsively. "Oh, man, if you only could!" + +"Only could!" echoed Nick. "I tell you I will. Ten quid on it if you +like. Is it done?" + +But Will shook his head with a queer, unsteady smile. "No, it +isn't. But come along and smoke, or you will be having that infernal +neuralgia again. It was confoundedly good of you to look me up like +this when you weren't fit for it." + +Nick laughed aloud. "Man alive! You don't suppose I did it for your +sake, do you? Don't you know I wanted to break the journey to the +coast?" + +"Odd place to choose!" commented Will. + +Nick arose in his own peculiarly abrupt fashion, and thrust his hand +through his friend's arm. + +"Perhaps I thought a couple of days of your society would cheer me +up," he observed lightly. "I daresay that seems odd too." + +Will laughed in spite of himself. "Well, you've seen me with my +nose to the grindstone anyhow. You can tell Daisy I'm working like a +troop-horse for her and the boy! Jove! What a knowing little beggar +that youngster used to be! He isn't very strong though, Daisy writes." + +"How often do you hear?" asked Nick. + +"Oh, the last letter came three weeks ago. They were all well then, +but she didn't stop to say much because Grange was there. He is +staying with them, you know." + +"You haven't heard since then?" There was just a hint of indignation +in Nick's query. + +Will shook his head. "No. She's a bad correspondent, always was. I +write by every mail, and of course, if there were anything I ought +to know, she would write too. But they are leading a fairly humdrum +existence just now. She can't have much to tell me." + +Nick changed the subject. "How long has Grange been there?" + +"I don't know. Some time, I think. But I really don't know. They are +very old pals, you know, he and Daisy. There was a bit of a romance +between them, I believe, years ago, when she was in her teens. Their +people wouldn't hear of it because they were first cousins, so it +fizzled out. But they are still great friends. A good sort of fellow, +I always thought." + +"Too soft for me," said Nick. "He's like a well-built ship adrift +without a rudder. He's all manners and no grit--the sort of chap who +wants to be pushed before he can do anything. I often ached to kick +him when we were boxed up at Wara." + +Will smiled. "The only drawback to indulging in that kind of game +is that you may get kicked back, and a kick from a giant like Grange +would be no joke." + +Nick looked supremely contemptuous. "Fellows like Grange don't kick. +They don't know how. That's why I had to leave him alone." + +He turned into Will's sitting-room and stretched himself out upon an +ancient _charpoy_ furnished with many ancient cushions that stood by +the window. + +Will gave him a cigarette, and lighted it. "I wonder how many nights I +have spent on that old shake-down," he remarked, as he did it. + +Nick glanced upwards. "Last year?" + +Will nodded. "It was like hell," he said, with terrible simplicity. "I +came straight back here, you know, after Daisy left Simla. I suppose +the contrast made it worse. Then, too, the sub was ill, and it meant +double work. Well," with another sigh, "we pulled through somehow, +and I suppose we shall again. But, Nick, Daisy couldn't possibly stand +this place more than four months out of the twelve. And as for the +kiddie--" + +Nick removed his cigarette to yawn. + +"You won't be here all your life, my son," he said. "You're a rising +man, remember. There's no sense in grizzling, anyhow, and you're +getting round-shouldered. Why don't you do some gymnastics? You've +got a swimming bath. Go and do a quarter of a mile breast-stroke every +day. Jupiter! What wouldn't I give to"--He broke off abruptly. "Well, +I'm not going to cry for the moon either. There's the _khit_ on the +verandah. What does he want?" + +Will went out to see. Nick, idly watching, saw the native hand him +something on a salver which Will took to the lamp by which he had been +working. Dead silence ensued. From far away there came the haunting +cry of a jackal, but near at hand there was no sound. A great +stillness hung upon all things. + +To Nick, lying at full length upon the cushions, there presently came +the faint sound of paper crackling, and a moment later his friend's +voice, pitched very low, spoke to the waiting servant. He heard the +man softly retire, and again an intense stillness reigned. + +He could not see Will from where he lay, and he smoked on placidly for +nearly five minutes in the belief that he was either answering +some communication or looking over his work. Then at last, growing +impatient of the prolonged silence, he lifted his voice without +moving. + +"What in the world are you doing, you unsociable beggar? Can't you +tear yourself away from that beastly work for one night even? Come in +here and entertain me. You won't have the chance to-morrow." + +There was no reply. Only from far away there came again the weird yell +of a jackal. For a few seconds more Nick lay frowning. Then swiftly +and quietly he arose, and stepped to the window. + +There he stopped dead as if in sudden irresolution; for Will was sunk +upon his knees by the table with his head upon his work and his arms +flung out with clenched hands in an attitude of the most utter, the +most anguished despair. He made no sound of any sort; only, as Nick +watched, his bowed shoulders heaved once convulsively. + +It was only for a moment that Nick stood hesitating. The next, obeying +an impulse that he never stopped to question, he moved straight +forward to Will's side; and then saw--what he had not at first seen--a +piece of paper crumpled and gripped in one of his hands. + +He bent over him and spoke rapidly, but without agitation. "Hullo, old +boy! What is it! Bad news, eh?" + +Will started and groaned, then sharply turned his face upwards. It was +haggard and drawn and ghastly, but even then its boyishness remained. + +He spoke at once, replying to Nick in short, staccato tones. "I've +had a message--just come through. It's the kiddie--our little chap--he +died--last night." + +Nick heard the news in silence. After a moment he stooped forward and +took the paper out of Will's hand, thrusting it away without a glance +into his own pocket. Then he took him by the arm and hoisted him up. +"Come inside!" he said briefly. + +Will went with him blindly, too stricken to direct his own movements. + +And so he presently found himself crouching forward in a chair staring +at Nick's steady hand mixing whiskey and water in a glass at his +elbow. As Nick held it towards him he burst into sudden, wild speech. + +"I've lost her!" he exclaimed harshly. "I've lost her! It was only the +kiddie that bound us together. She never cared a half-penny about +me. I always knew I should never hold her unless we had a child. And +now--and now--" + +"Easy!" said Nick. "Easy! Just drink this like a good chap. There's no +sense in letting yourself go." + +Will drank submissively, and covered his face. "Oh, man," he whispered +brokenly, "you don't know what it is to be despised by the one being +in the world you worship." + +Nick said nothing. His lips twitched a little, that was all. + +But when several miserable seconds had dragged away and Will had +not moved, he bent suddenly down and put his arm round the huddled +shoulders. "Keep a stiff upper lip, old chap," he urged gently. "Don't +knock under. She'll be coming to you for comfort presently." + +"Not she!" groaned Will. "I shall never get near her again. She'll +never come back to me. I know. I know." + +"Don't be a fool!" said Nick still gently. "You don't know. Of course +she will come back to you. If you stick to her, she'll stick to you." + +Will made a choked sound of dissent. Nevertheless, after a moment he +raised his quivering face, and gripped hard the hand that pressed his +shoulder. "Thanks, dear fellow! You're awfully good. Forgive me for +making an ass of myself. I--I was awfully fond of the little nipper +too. Poor Daisy! She'll be frightfully cut up." He broke off, biting +his lips. + +"Do you know," he said presently in a strained whisper, "I've wanted +her sometimes--so horribly, that--that I've even been fool enough to +pray about it." + +He glanced up as he made this confidence, half expecting to read +ridicule on the alert face above him, but the expression it wore +surprised him. It was almost a fighting look, and wholly free from +contempt. + +Nick seated himself on the edge of the table, and smote him on the +shoulder. "My dear chap," he said, with a sudden burst of energy, +"you're only at the beginning of things. It isn't just praying now and +then that does it. You've got to keep up the steam, never slack for an +instant, whatever happens. The harder going it is, the more likely +you are to win through if you stick to it. But directly you slack, +you lose ground. If you've only got the grit to go on praying, praying +hard, even against your own convictions, you'll get it sooner or +later. You are bound to get it. They say God doesn't always grant +prayer because the thing you want may not do you any good. That's +gammon--futile gammon. If you want it hard enough, and keep on +clamouring for it, it becomes the very thing of all others you +need--the great essential. And you'll get it for that very reason. +It's sheer pluck that counts, nothing else--the pluck to go on +fighting when you know perfectly well you're beaten, the pluck to hang +on and worry, worry, worry, till you get your heart's desire." + +He sprang up with a wide-flung gesture. "I'm doing it myself," he +said, and his voice rang with a certain grim elation. "I'm doing it +myself. And God knows I sha'n't give Him any peace till I'm satisfied. +I may be small, but if I were no bigger than a mosquito, I'd keep on +buzzing." + +He walked to the end of the room, stood for a second, and came slowly +back. + +Will was looking at him oddly, almost as if he had never seen him +before. + +"Do you know," he said, smiling faintly, "I always thought you were a +rotter." + +"Most people do," said Nick. "I believe it's my physiognomy that's +at fault. What can any one expect from a fellow with a face like an +Egyptian mummy? Why, I've been mistaken for the devil himself before +now." He spoke with a semi-whimsical ruefulness, and, having spoken, +he went to the window and stood there with his face to the darkness. + +"Hear that jackal, Will?" he suddenly said. "The brute is hungry. You +bet, he won't go empty away." + +"Jackals never do," said Will, with his weary sigh. + +Nick turned round. "It shows what faithless fools we are," he said. + +In the silence that followed, there came again to them, clear through +the stillness, and haunting in its persistence, the crying of the +beast that sought its meat from God. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +A SCENTED LETTER + + +There is no exhaustion more complete or more compelling than the +exhaustion of grief, and it is the most restless temperaments that +usually suffer from it the most keenly. It is those who have watched +constantly, tirelessly, selflessly, for weeks or even months, for whom +the final breakdown is the most utter and the most heartrending. + +To Daisy, lying silent in her darkened room, the sudden ending of the +prolonged strain, the cessation of the anxiety that had become a part +of her very being, was more intolerable than the sense of desolation +itself. It lay upon her like a physical, crushing weight, this absence +of care, numbing all her faculties. She felt that the worst had +happened to her, the ultimate blow had fallen, and she cared for +nought besides. + +In those first days of her grief she saw none but Muriel and the +doctor. Jim Ratcliffe was more uneasy about her than he would +admit. He knew as no one else knew what the strain had been upon the +over-sensitive nerves, and how terribly the shock had wrenched them. +He also knew that her heart was still in a very unsatisfactory state, +and for many hours he dreaded collapse. + +He was inclined to be uneasy upon Muriel's account as well, at first, +but she took him completely by surprise. Without a question, without a +word, simply as a matter of course, she assumed the position of +nurse and constant companion to her friend. Her resolution and steady +self-control astonished him, but he soon saw that these were qualities +upon which he could firmly rely. She had put her own weakness behind +her, and in face of Daisy's utter need she had found strength. + +He suffered her to have her way, seeing how close was the bond of +sympathy between them, and realising that the very fact of supporting +Daisy would be her own support. + +"You are as steady-going as a professional," he told her once. + +To which she answered with her sad smile, "I served my probation in +the school of sorrow last year. I am only able to help her because I +know what it is to sit in ashes." + +He patted her shoulder and called her a good girl. He was growing very +fond of her, and in his blunt, unflattering way he let her know it. + +Certain it was that in those terrible days following her bereavement, +Daisy clung to her as she had never before clung to any one, scarcely +speaking to her, but mutely leaning upon her steadfast strength. + +Muriel saw but little of Blake though he was never far away. He +wandered miserably about the house and garden, smoking endless +cigarettes, and invariably asking her with a piteous, dog-like +wistfulness whenever they met if there were nothing that he could do. +There never was anything, but she had not the heart to tell him +so, and she used to invent errands for him to make him happier. She +herself did not go beyond the garden for many days. + +One evening, about three weeks after her baby's death, Daisy heard his +step on the gravel below her window and roused herself a little. + +"Who is taking care of Blake?" she asked. + +Muriel glanced down from where she sat at the great listless figure +nearing the house. "I think he is taking care of himself," she said. + +"All alone?" said Daisy. + +"Yes, dear." + +Daisy uttered a sudden hard sigh. "You mustn't spend all your time +with me any longer," she said. "I have been very selfish. I forgot. Go +down to him, Muriel." + +Muriel looked up, struck by something incomprehensible in her +tone. "You know I like to be with you," she said. "And of course he +understands." + +But Daisy would not be satisfied. "That may be. But--but--I want you +to go to him. He is lonely, poor boy. I can hear it in his step. I +always know." + +Wondering at her persistence, and somewhat reluctant, Muriel rose +to comply. As she was about to pass her, with a swift movement Daisy +caught her hand and drew her down. + +"I want you--so--to be happy, dearest," she whispered, a quick note of +passion in her voice. "It's better for you--it's better for you--to +be together. I'm not going to monopolise you any longer. I will try +to come down to-morrow, if Jim will let me. It's hockey day, isn't it? +You must go and play as usual, you and he." + +She was quivering with agitation as she pressed her lips to the girl's +cheek. Muriel would have embraced her, but she pushed her softly away. +"Go--go, dear," she insisted. "I wish it." + +And Muriel went, seeing that she would not otherwise be pacified. + +She found Blake depressed indeed, but genuinely pleased to see her, +and she walked in the garden with him in the soft spring twilight till +the dinner hour. + +Just as they were about to go in, the postman appeared with foreign +letters for them both, which proved to be from Sir Reginald and Lady +Bassett. + +The former had written briefly but very kindly to Grange, signifying +his consent to his engagement to his ward, and congratulating him upon +having won her. To Muriel he sent a fatherly message, telling her of +his pleasure at hearing of her happiness, and adding that he hoped she +would return to them in the following autumn to enable him to give her +away. + +Grange put his arm round his young _fiancee_ as he read this passage +aloud, but she only stood motionless within it, not yielding to his +touch. It even seemed to him that she stiffened slightly. He looked at +her questioningly and saw that she was very pale. + +"What is it?" he asked gently. "Will that be too soon for you?" + +She met his eyes frankly, but with unmistakable distress. "I--I didn't +think it would be quite so soon, Blake," she faltered. "I don't want +to be married at present. Can't we go on as we are for a little? Shall +you mind?" + +Blake's face wore a puzzled look, but it was wholly free from +resentment. He answered her immediately and reassuringly. + +"Of course not, dear. It shall be just when you like. Why should you +be hurried?" + +She gave him a smile of relief and gratitude, and he stooped and +kissed her forehead with a soothing tenderness that he might have +bestowed upon a child. + +It was with some reluctance that she opened Lady Bassett's letter +in his presence, but she felt that she owed him this small mark of +confidence. + +There was a strong aroma of attar of roses as she drew it from the +envelope, and she glanced at Grange with an expression of disgust. + +"What is the matter?" he asked. "Nothing wrong, I hope?" + +"It's only the scent," she explained, concealing a faint sense of +irritation. + +He smiled. "Don't you like it? I thought all women did." + +"My dear Blake!" she said, and shuddered. + +The next minute she threw a sharp look over her shoulder, suddenly +assailed by an uncanny feeling that Nick was standing grimacing at +her elbow. She saw his features so clearly for the moment with his +own peculiarly hideous grimace upon them that she scarcely persuaded +herself that her fancy had tricked her. But there was nothing but the +twilight of the garden all around her, and Blake's huge bulk by her +side, and she promptly dismissed the illusion, not without a sense of +shame. + +With a gesture of impatience she unfolded Lady Bassett's letter. It +commenced "Dearest Muriel," and proceeded at once in terms of flowing +elegance to felicitate her upon her engagement to Blake Grange. + +"In according our consent," wrote Lady Bassett, "Sir Reginald and I +have not the smallest scruple or hesitation. Only, dearest, for Blake +Grange's sake as well as for your own, make quite sure _this time_ +that your mind is fully made up, and your choice final." + +When Muriel read this passage a deep note of resentment crept into her +voice, and she lifted a flushed face. + +"It may be very wicked," she said deliberately, "but I hate Lady +Bassett." + +Grange looked astonished, even mildly shocked. But Muriel returned to +the letter before he could reply. + +It went on to express regret that the writer could not herself +return to England for the summer to assist her in the purchase of her +trousseau and to chaperon her back to India in the autumn; but her +sister, Mrs. Langdale, who lived in London, would she was sure, be +delighted to undertake the part of adviser in the first case, and in +the second she would doubtless be able to find among her many friends +who would be travelling East for the winter, one who would take charge +of her. No reference was made to Daisy till the end of the letter, +when the formal hope was expressed that Mrs. Musgrave's health had +benefited by the change. + +"She dares to disapprove of Daisy for some reason," Muriel said, +closing the letter with the rapidity of exasperation. + +Grange did not ask why. He was engrossed in brushing a speck of mud +from his sleeve, and she was not sure that he even heard her remark. + +"You--I suppose you are not going to bother about a trousseau yet +then?" he asked rather awkwardly. + +She shook her head with vehemence. "No, no, of course not. Why should +I hurry? Besides, I am in mourning." + +"Exactly as you like," said Grange gently. "My leave will be up in +September, as you know, but I am not bound to stay in the Army. I will +send in my papers if you wish it." + +Muriel looked at him in amazement. "Send in your papers! Why no, +Blake! I wouldn't have you do it for the world. I never dreamed of +such a thing." + +He smiled good-humouredly. "Well, of course, I should be sorry to +give up polo, but there are plenty of other things I could take to. +Personally, I like a quiet existence." + +Was there just a shade of scorn in Muriel's glance as it fell away +from him? It would have been impossible for any bystander to say with +certainty, but there was without doubt a touch of constraint in her +voice as she made reply. + +"Yes. You are quite the most placid person I know. But please don't +think of leaving the Army for my sake. I am a soldier's daughter +remember. And--I like soldiers." + +Her lip quivered as she turned to enter the house. Her heart at that +moment was mourning over a soldier's unknown grave. But Grange did not +know it, did not even see that she was moved. + +His eyes were raised to an upper window at which a dim figure stood +looking out into the shadows. And he was thinking of other things. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE ETERNAL FLAME + + +Daisy maintained her resolution on the following day, and though she +did not speak again of going downstairs, she insisted that Muriel +should return to the hockey-field and resume her place in Olga's team. +It was the last match of the season, and she would not hear of her +missing it. + +"You and Blake are both to go," she said. "I won't have either of you +staying at home for me." + +But Blake, when Muriel conveyed this message to him, moodily shook his +head. "I'm not going. I don't want to. You must, of course. It will do +you good. But I couldn't play if I went. I've strained my wrist." + +"Oh, have you?" Muriel said, with concern. "What a nuisance! How did +you manage it?" + +He reddened, and looked slightly ashamed. "I vaulted the gate into the +meadow this morning. Idiotic thing to do. But I shall be all right. +Never mind about me. I shall smoke in the garden. I may go for a +walk." + +Thus pressed on all sides, though decidedly against her own +inclination, Muriel went. The day was showery with brilliant +intervals. Grange saw her off at the field-gate. + +"Plenty of mud," he remarked. + +"Yes, I shall be a spectacle when I come back. Good-bye! Take care of +yourself." Muriel's hand rested for an instant on his arm, and then +she was gone--a slim, short-skirted figure walking swiftly over the +grass. + +He stood leaning on the gate watching her till a clump of trees +intervened between them, then lazily he straightened himself and began +to stroll back up the garden. He was not smoking. His face wore a +heavy, almost a sullen, look. He scarcely raised his eyes from the +ground as he walked. + +Nearing the house the sudden sound of a window being raised made +him look up, and in an instant, swift as a passing cloud-shadow, his +moodiness was gone. Daisy was leaning on her window-sill, looking down +upon him. + +Though she had not spoken to him for weeks, she gave him no greeting. +Her voice even sounded a trifle sharp. + +"What are you loafing there for?" she demanded. "Why didn't you go +with Muriel to the hockey?" + +He hesitated for a single instant. Then--for he never lied to +Daisy--quite honestly he made reply. "I didn't want to." + +Her pale face frowned down at him, though the eyes had a soft light +that was like a mother's indulgence for her wayward child. + +"How absurd you are! How can you be so lazy? I won't have it, Blake. +Do you hear?" + +He moved forward a few steps till he was immediately below her, and +there stood with uplifted face. "What do you want me to do?" + +"Do!" echoed Daisy. "Why, anything--anything rather than nothing. +There's the garden-roller over there by the tool-shed. Go and get it, +and roll the lawn." + +He went off obediently without another word, and presently the clatter +of the roller testified to his submissive fulfilment of her command. +He did not look up again. Simply, with his coat off and shirt-sleeves +turned above his elbows, he tackled his arduous task, labouring up and +down in the soft spring rain, patient and tireless as an ox. + +He had accomplished about half his job when again Daisy's voice broke +imperiously in upon him. + +"Blake! Blake! Come in! You'll get wet to the skin." + +He stopped at once, straightening his great frame with a sigh of +relief. Daisy was standing at the drawing-room window. + +He pulled on his coat and went to join her. + +She came to meet him with sharp reproach. "Why are you so foolish? +I believe you would have gone on rolling if there had been an +earthquake. You must be wet through and through." She ran her little +thin hand over him. "Yes, I knew you were. You must go and change." + +But Grange's fingers closed with quiet intention upon her wrist. He +was looking down at her with the faithful adoration of a dumb animal. + +"Not yet," he said gently. "Let me see you while I can." + +She made a quick movement as if his grasp hurt her, and in an instant +she was free. + +"Yes, but let us be sensible," she said. "Don't let us talk about hard +things. I'm very tired, you know, Blake. You must make it easy for +me." + +There was a piteous note of appeal in her voice. She sat down with +her back to the light. He could see that her hands were trembling, but +because of her appeal he would not seem to see it. + +"Don't you think a change would be good for you?" he suggested. + +"I don't know," she answered. "Jim says so. He wants me to go to +Brethaven. It's only ten miles away, and he would motor over and look +after me. But I don't think it much matters. I'm not particularly fond +of the sea. And Muriel assures me she doesn't mind." + +"Isn't it at Brethaven that Nick Ratcliffe owns a place?" asked +Grange. + +"Yes. Redlands is the name. I went there once with Will. It's a +beautiful place on the cliff--quite thrown away on Nick, though, +unless he marries, which he never will now." + +Grange looked uncomfortable. "It's not my fault," he remarked bluntly. + +"No, I know," said Daisy, with a faint echo of her old light laugh. +"Nothing ever was, or could be, your fault, dear old Blake. You're +just unlucky sometimes, aren't you? That's all." + +Blake frowned a little. "I play a straight game--generally," he said. + +"Yes, dear, but you almost always drive into a bunker," Daisy +insisted. "It's not your fault, as we said before. It's just your +misfortune." + +She never flattered Blake. It was perhaps the secret of her charm for +him. To other women he was something of a paladin; to Daisy he was no +more than a man--a man moreover of many weaknesses, each one of which +she knew, each one of which was in a fashion dear to her. + +"We will have some tea, shall we?" she said, as he sat silently +digesting her criticism. "I must try and write to Will presently. I +haven't written to him since--since--" She broke off short and began +again. "I got Muriel to write for me once. But he keeps writing by +every mail. I wish he wouldn't." + +Grange got up and walked softly to the window. "When do you think of +going back?" he asked. + +"I don't know." There was a keen note of irritation in the reply. +Daisy leaned suddenly forward, her fingers locked together. "You +might as well ask me when I think of dying," she said, with abrupt and +startling bitterness. + +Grange remained stationary, not looking at her. "Is it as indefinite +as that?" he asked presently. + +"Yes, quite." She spoke recklessly, even defiantly. "Where would be +the use of my going to a place I couldn't possibly live in for more +than four months in the year? Besides--besides--" But again, as if +checked by some potent inner influence, she broke off short. Her +white face quivered suddenly, and she turned it aside. Her hands were +convulsively clenched upon each other. + +Her cousin did not move. He seemed to be unaware of her agitation. +Simply with much patience he waited for her end of the sentence. + +It came at last in a voice half-strangled. She was making almost +frantic efforts to control herself. "Besides, I couldn't stand +it--yet. I am not strong enough. And he--he wouldn't understand, poor +boy. I think--I honestly think--I am better away from him for the +present" + +Blake made no further inquiries. From Daisy's point of view, he seemed +to be standing motionless, but in reality he was quite unconsciously, +though very deliberately, pulling the tassel of the blind-cord to +shreds. + +The clouds had passed, and the sun blazed down full upon him, throwing +his splendid outline into high relief. Every detail of his massive +frame was strongly revealed. There was about him a species of careless +magnificence, wholly apart from arrogance, unfettered, superb. + +To Daisy, familiar as she was with every line of him, the sudden +revelation of the sunlight acted like a charm. She had been hiding her +eyes for many days from all light, veiling them in the darkness of her +grief, and the splendour of the man fairly dazzled her. It rushed +upon her, swift, overmastering as a tidal wave, and before it even the +memory of her sorrow grew dim. + +Blake, turning at last, met her eyes fixed full upon him with that in +their expression which no man could ignore. She had not expected him +to turn. The movement disconcerted her. With a sharp jerk She averted +her face, seeking to cover that momentary slip, to persuade him +even then, if it were possible, into the belief that he had not seen +aright. + +But it was too late. That unguarded look of hers had betrayed her, +rending asunder in an instant the veil with which for years she had +successfully baffled him. + +In a second he was on his knees beside her, his arms about her, +holding her with a close and passionate insistence. + +"Daisy!" he whispered huskily. And again, "Daisy!" + +And Daisy turned with a sudden deep sob and hid her face upon his +breast. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE EAGLE CAGED + + +In spite of Olga's ecstatic welcome, Muriel took her place on the +hockey-field that afternoon with a heavy heart. Her long attendance +upon Daisy had depressed her. But gradually, as the play proceeded, +she began to forget herself and her troubles. The spring air +exhilarated her, and when they returned to the field after a sharp +shower her spirits had risen. She became even childishly gay in the +course of a hotly-contested battle, and the sadness gradually died +out of her eyes. She had grown less shy, less restrained, than of old. +Youth and health, and a dawning, unconscious beauty had sprung to life +upon her face. She was no longer the frightened, bereft child of Simla +days. She no longer hid a monstrous fear in her heart. She had put it +all away from her wisely, resolutely, as a tale that is told. + +The wild wind had blown the hair all loose about her face by the time +the last goal was won. Hatless, flushed, and laughing, she drew back +from the fray, Olga, elated by victory, clinging to her arm. It was a +moment of keen triumph, for the fight had been hard, and she enjoyed +it to the full as she stood there with her face to the sudden, +scudding rain. The glow of exercise had braced every muscle. Every +pulse was beating with warm, vigorous life. + +She laughed aloud in sheer exultation, a low, merry laugh, and turned +with Olga to march in triumphant procession from the field. + +In that instant from a gate a few yards away that led into the road +there sounded the short, imperious note of a motor-horn, repeated many +times in a succession of sharp blasts. Every one stood to view the +intruder with startled curiosity for perhaps five seconds. Then there +came a sudden squeal of rapture from Olga, and in a moment she had +torn her arm free and was gone, darting like a swallow over the turf. + +Muriel stood looking after her, but she was as one turned to stone. +She was no longer aware of the children grouped around her. She no +longer saw the fleeting sunshine, or felt the drift of rain in her +face. Something immense and suffocating had closed about her heart. +Her racing pulses had ceased to beat. + +A figure familiar to her--a man's figure, unimposing in height, +unremarkable in build, but straight, straight as his own +sword-blade--had bounded from the car and scaled the intervening gate +with monkey-like agility. + +He met the child's wild rush with one arm extended; the other--Muriel +frowned sharply, peering with eyes half closed, then uttered a queer +choked sound that had the semblance of a laugh--in place of the other +arm there was an empty sleeve. + +Through the rush of the wind she heard his voice. + +"Hullo, kiddie, hullo! Hope I don't intrude. I've come over on purpose +to pay my respects." + +Olga's answer did not reach her. She was hanging round her hero's +neck, and her head was down upon Nick's shoulder. It seemed to Muriel +that she was crying, but if so, she received scant sympathy from the +object of her solicitude. His cracked, gay laugh rang out across the +field. + +"What? Why, yesterday, to be sure. Spent the night in town. No, I know +I didn't. Never meant to. Wanted to steal a march on you all. Why not? +I say, is that--Muriel?" + +For the first time he seemed to perceive her, and instantly with a +dexterous movement he had disengaged himself from Olga's clinging arms +and was briskly approaching her. Two of the doctor's boys sprang to +greet him, but he waved them airily aside. + +"All right, you chaps, in a minute! Where's Dr. Jim? Go and tell him +I'm here." + +And then in a couple of seconds more they were face to face. + +Muriel stared at him speechlessly. She felt cold from head to foot. +She had known that he was coming. She had been steeling herself for +weeks to meet him in an armour of conventional reserve. But all her +efforts had come to this. Swift, swift as the wind over wheat, his +coming swept across her new-born confidence. It wavered and bent its +head. + +"Does your Excellency deign to remember the least and humblest of her +servants?" queried Nick, with a deep salaam. + +The laugh in his tone brought her sharply back to the demand of +circumstance. Before the watching crowd of children, she forced her +white lips to smile in answer, and in a moment she had recovered her +self-possession. She remembered with a quick sense of relief that this +man's power over her belonged to the past alone--to the tale that was +told. + +The hand she held out to him was almost steady. "Yes, I remember you, +Nick," she said, with chilly courtesy. "I am sorry you have been ill. +Are you better?" + +He made a queer grimace at her words, and for the second that her hand +lay in his, she knew that he looked at her closely, piercingly. + +"Thanks--awfully," he said. "As you may have noticed, there is a +little less of me than there used to be. I hope you think it's an +improvement." + +She felt as if he had flung back her conventional sympathy in her +face, and she stiffened instinctively. "I am sorry to see it," she +returned icily. + +Nick laughed enigmatically. "I thought you would be. Well, Olga, my +child, what do you mean by growing up like this in my absence? You +used to be just the right size for a kid, and now you are taller than +I am." + +"I'm not, Nick," the child declared with warmth. "And I never will be, +there!" + +She slid her arm again round his neck. Her eyes were full of tears. + +Nick turned swiftly and bestowed a kiss upon the face which, though +the face of a child, was so remarkably like his own. + +"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?" he said. + +"There's no need," said Olga, hugging him closer. "They all know +Captain Ratcliffe of Wara. Why haven't you got the V.C., Nick, like +Captain Grange?" + +"Didn't qualify for it," returned Nick. "You see, I only distinguished +myself by running away. Hullo! It's raining. Just run and tell the +chauffeur to drive round to the house. You can go with him. And take +your friends too. It'll carry you all. I'm going the garden way with +Muriel." + +Muriel realised the impossibility of frustrating this plan, though the +last thing in the world that she desired was to be alone with him. +But the distance to the house was not great. As the children scampered +away to the waiting motor-car she moved briskly to leave the field. + +Nick walked beside her with his free, elastic swagger. In a few +moments he reached out and took her hockey-stick from her. + +"Jove!" he said. "It did me good to see you shoot that goal." + +"I had no idea you were watching," she returned stiffly. + +He grinned. "No, I saw that. Fun, wasn't it? Like to know what I said +to myself?" + +She made no answer, and his grin became a laugh. "I'm sure you would, +so I'll tell you. I said, 'Prayer Number One is granted,' and I ticked +it off the list, and duly acknowledged the same." + +Muriel was plainly mystified. He was in the mood that most baffled +her. "I don't know what you mean," she said at last. + +Nick swung the hockey-stick idly. His yellow face, for all its +wrinkles, looked peculiarly complacent. + +"Let me explain," he said coolly; "I wanted to see you young again, +and--my want has been satisfied, that's all." + +Muriel looked sharply away from him, the vivid colour rushing all over +her face. She remembered--and the memory seemed to stab her--a day +long, long ago when she had lain in this man's arms in the extremity +of helpless suffering, and had heard him praying above her head, +brokenly, passionately, for something far different--something from +which she had come to shrink with a nameless, overmastering dread. + +She quickened her pace in the silence that followed. The rain was +coming down sharply. Reaching the door that led into the doctor's +walled garden, she stretched out her hand with impetuous haste to push +it open. + +Instantly, with disconcerting suddenness, Nick dropped the +hockey-stick and swooped upon it like a bird of prey. + +"Who gave you that?" he demanded. + +He had spied a hoop of diamonds upon her third finger. She could +not see his eyes under the flickering lids, but he held her wrist +forcibly, and it seemed to her that there was a note of savagery in +his voice. + +Her heart beat fast for a few seconds, so fast that she could not find +her voice. Then, almost under her breath, "Blake gave it to me," she +said. "Blake Grange." + +"Yes?" said Nick. "Yes?" + +Suddenly he looked straight at her, and his eyes were alight, fierce, +glowing. But she felt a curious sense of scared relief, as if he were +behind bars,--an eagle caged, of which she need have no fear. + +"We are engaged to be married," she said quietly. + +There fell a momentary silence, and a voice cried out in her soul that +she had stabbed him through the bars. + +Then in a second Nick dropped her hands and stooped to pick up the +hockey-stick. His face as he stood up again flashed back to its old, +baffling gaiety. + +"What ho!" he said lightly. "Then I'm in time to dance at the wedding. +Pray accept my heartiest congratulations!" + +Muriel murmured her thanks with her face averted. She was no longer +afraid merely, but strangely, inexplicably ashamed. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +THE LION'S SKIN + + +The news of Nick's return spread like wildfire through the doctor's +house, and the whole establishment assembled to greet him. Jim himself +came striding out into the rain to shake his hand and escort him in. + +His "Hullo, you scapegrace!" had in it little of sentiment, but there +was nothing wanting in his welcome in the opinion of the recipient +thereof. + +Nick's rejoinder of "Hullo, you old buffer!" was equally free from any +gloss of eloquence, but he hooked his hand in the doctor's arm as he +made it, and kept it there. + +Jim gave him one straight, keen look that took in every detail, but he +made no verbal comment of any sort. His heavy brows drew together for +an instant, that was all. + +It was an exceedingly clamorous home-coming. The children, having +arrived in the motor, swarmed all about the returned hero, who was +more than equal to the occasion, and obviously enjoyed his boisterous +reception to the uttermost. There never had been any shyness about +Nick. + +Muriel, standing watching in the background with a queer, +unaccountable pain at her heart, assured herself that the news of +her engagement had meant nothing to him whatever. He had managed +to deceive her as usual. She realised it with burning cheeks, and +ardently wished that she had borne herself more proudly. Well, she was +not wanted here. Even Olga, her faithful and loving admirer, had eyes +only for Nick just then. As for Dr. Jim, he had not even noticed her. + +Quietly she stole away from the merry, chattering group. The hall-door +stood open, and she saw that it was raining heavily; but she did not +hesitate. With a haste that was urged from within by something that +was passionate, she ran out hatless into the storm. + +The cracked, careless laugh she knew so well pursued her as she went, +and once she fancied that some one called her by name. But she did +not slacken speed to listen. She only dashed on a little faster than +before. + +Drenched and breathless, she reached home at length, to be met upon +the threshold by Blake. In her exhaustion she almost fell into his +arms. + +"Hullo!" he said, steadying her. "You shouldn't run like that. I never +dreamed you would come back in this, or I would have come across with +an umbrella to fetch you." + +She sank into a chair in the hall, speechless and gasping, her hair +hanging about her neck in wildest disorder. + +Blake stood beside her. He was wearing his worried, moody look. + +"You shouldn't," he said again. "It's horribly bad for you." + +"Ah, I'm better," she gasped back. "I had to run--all the way--because +of the rain." + +"But why didn't you wait?" said Blake. "What were they thinking of to +let you come in this down-pour?" + +"They couldn't help it." Muriel raised herself with a great sobbing +sigh. "It was nobody's fault but my own. I wanted to get away. Oh, +Blake, do you know--Nick is here?" + +Blake started. "What? Already? Do you mean he is actually in the +place?" + +She nodded. "He came up in a motor while we were playing. I suppose he +is staying at Redlands, but I don't know. And--and--Blake, he has +lost his left arm. It makes him look so queer." She gave a sudden, +uncontrollable shudder. The old dumb horror looked out of her eyes. +"I thought I shouldn't mind," she said, under her breath. "Perhaps--if +you had been there--it would have been different. As it was--as it +was--" She broke off, rising impetuously to her feet, and laying +trembling hands upon his arms. "Oh, Blake," she whispered, like a +scared child. "I feel so helpless. But you promised--you promised--you +would never let me go." + +Yes, he had promised her that. He had sworn it, and, sick at heart, +he remembered that in her eyes at least he was a man of honour. It +had been in his mind to tell her the simple truth, just so far as he +himself was concerned, and thereafter to place himself at her +disposal to act exactly as she should desire. But suddenly this was an +impossibility to him. He realised it with desperate self-loathing. +She trusted him. She looked to him for protection. She leaned upon +his strength. She needed him. He could not--it almost seemed as if in +common chivalry he could not--reveal to her the contemptible weakness +which lay like a withering blight upon his whole nature. To own +himself the slave of a married woman, and that woman her closest +friend, would be to throw her utterly upon her own resources at a +time when she most needed the support and guidance of a helping +hand. Moreover, the episode was over; so at least both he and Daisy +resolutely persuaded themselves. There had been a lapse--a vain and +futile lapse--into the long-cherished idyll of their romance. It +must never recur. It never should recur. It must be covered over +and forgotten as speedily as might be. They had come to their senses +again. They were ready, not only to thrust away the evil that had +dominated them, but to ignore it utterly as though it had never been. + +So, rapidly, the man reasoned with himself with the girl's hands +clasping his arm in earnest entreaty, and her eyes of innocence raised +to his. + +His answer when it came was slow and soft and womanly, but, in her +ears at least, there was nothing wanting in it. She never dreamed that +he was reviling himself for a blackguard even as he uttered it. + +"My dear little girl, there is nothing whatever for you to be afraid +of. You're a bit overstrung, aren't you? The man isn't living who +could take you from me." + +He patted her shoulder very kindly, soothing her with a patient, +almost fatherly tenderness, and gradually her panic of fear passed. +She leaned against him with a comforting sense of security. + +"I can't think how it is I'm so foolish," she told him. "You are good +to me, Blake. I feel so safe when I am with you." + +His heart smote him, yet he bent and kissed her. "You're not quite +strong yet, dear," he said. "It takes a long time to get over all that +you had to bear last year." + +"Yes," she agreed with a sigh. "And do you know I thought I was +so much stronger than I am? I actually thought that I shouldn't +mind--much--when he came. And yet I did mind--horribly. I--I--told him +about our engagement, Blake." + +"Yes, dear," said Blake. + +"Yes, I told him. And he laughed and offered his congratulations. +I don't think he cared," said Muriel, again with that curious, +inexplicable sensation of pain at her heart. + +"Why should he?" said Blake. + +She looked at him with momentary irresolution. "You know, Blake, I +never told you. But I was--I was--engaged to him for about a fortnight +that dreadful time at Simla." + +To her relief she marked no change in Blake's courteously attentive +face. + +"You need not have told me that, dear," he said quietly. + +"No, I know," she answered, pressing his arm. "It wouldn't make any +difference to you. You are too great. And it was always a little bit +against my will. But the breaking with him was terrible--terrible. He +was so angry. I almost thought he would have killed me." + +"My dear," Blake said, "you shouldn't dwell on these things. They are +better forgotten." + +"I know, I know," she answered. "But they are just the very hardest of +all things to forget. You must help me, Blake. Will you?" + +"I will help you," he answered steadily. + +And the resolution with which he spoke was an unspeakable comfort to +her. Once more there darted across her mind the wonder at her father's +choice for her. How was it--how was it--that he had passed over this +man and chosen Nick? + +Blake's own explanation of the mystery seemed to her suddenly weak and +inadequate. She simply could not bring herself to believe that in a +supreme moment he could be found wanting. It was unthinkable that the +giant frame and mighty sinews could belong to a personality that was +lacking in a corresponding greatness. + +So she clung to her illusion, finding comfort therein, wholly blind to +those failings in her protector which to the woman who had loved him +from her earliest girlhood were as obvious and well-nigh as precious +as his virtues. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +OLD FRIENDS MEET + + +"I must be getting back," said Nick. + +He was sprawling at ease on the sofa in Jim's study, blinking +comfortably at the ceiling, as he made this remark. + +Jim himself had just entered the room. He drew up a chair to Nick's +side. + +"You will be doing nothing of the sort to-night," he returned, with +a certain grimness. "The motor has gone back to Redlands for your +things. I saw to that an hour ago." + +"The deuce you did!" said Nick. He turned slightly to send a shifting +glance over his brother. "That was very officious of you, Jimmy," he +remarked. + +"Very likely," conceded the doctor. "I have to be officious +occasionally. And if you think that I mean to let you out of my sight +in your present state of health, you make a big mistake. No, lie +still, I tell you! You're like a monkey on wires. Lie still! Do you +hear me, Nick?" + +Nick's feet were already on the ground, but he did not rise. He sat +motionless, as if weighing some matter in his mind. + +"I can't stay with you, Jimmy," he said at last. "I'll spend to-night +of course with all the pleasure in the world. But I'm going back to +Redlands to-morrow. I have a fancy for sleeping in my own crib just +now. Come over and see me as often as you feel inclined, the oftener +the better. And if you care to bring your science to bear upon all +that is left of this infernally troublesome member of mine, I shall be +charmed to let you. You may vivisect me to your heart's content. But +don't ask me to be an in-patient, for it can't be done. There are +reasons." + +Jim frowned at him. "Do you know what will happen if you don't take +care of yourself?" he said brusquely. "You'll die." + +Nick burst into a laugh, and lay back on the cushions. "I was driven +out of India by that threat," he said. "It's getting a bit stale. +You needn't be afraid. I'm not going to die at present. I'll take +reasonable precautions to prevent it. But I won't stay here, that's +flat. I tell you, man, I can't." + +He glanced again at Jim, and, finding the latter closely watching him, +abruptly shut his eyes. + +"I'm going to open Redlands," he said, "and I will have Olga to come +and keep house for me. It'll be good practice for her. I'll take her +back with me to-morrow, if you have no objection." + +"Fine mischief you'll get up to, the pair of you," grumbled Jim. + +"Very likely," said Nick cheerily. "But we shan't come to any harm, +either of us. To begin with, I shall make her wait on me, hand and +foot. She'll like that, and so shall I." + +"Yes, you'll spoil her thoroughly." said Jim. "And I shall have the +pleasure of breaking her in afterwards." + +Nick laughed again. "What an old tyrant you are! But you needn't be +afraid of that. I'll make her do as she's told. I'm particularly good +at that. Ask Muriel Roscoe." + +Jim's frown deepened. "You know of that girl's engagement to Grange, I +suppose?" + +Nick did not trouble to open his eyes. "Oh, rather! She took care that +I should. I gave her my blessing." + +"Well, I don't like it," said Jim plainly. + +"What's the matter with him?" questioned Nick. + +"Nothing that I know of. But she isn't in love with him." + +Nick's eyelids parted a little, showing a glint between. "You funny +old ass!" he murmured affectionately. + +Jim leaned forward and looked at him hard. + +"Quite so," said Nick in answer, closing his eyes again. "But you +don't by any chance imagine she's in love with me, do you? You know +how a woman looks at a worm she has chopped in half by mistake? That's +how Muriel Roscoe looked at me to-day when she expressed her regret +for my mishap." + +"She wouldn't do that for nothing," observed Jim, with a hint of +sternness. + +"She wouldn't," Nick conceded placidly. + +"Then why the devil did you ever give her reason?" Jim spoke with +unusual warmth. Muriel was a favourite of his. + +But he obtained scant satisfaction notwithstanding. + +"Ask the devil," said Nick flippantly. "I never was good at +definitions." + +It was a tacit refusal to discuss the matter, and as such Jim accepted +it. + +He turned from the subject with a grunt of discontent. "Well, if I am +to undertake your case, you had better let me look at you. But we'll +have a clean understanding first, mind, that you obey my orders. I +won't be responsible otherwise." + +Nick opened his eyes with a chuckle. "I'll do anything under the sun +to please you, Jimmy," he said generously. "When did you ever find me +hard to manage?" + +"You've given me plenty of trouble at one time and another," Jim said +bluntly. + +"And shall again before I die," laughed Nick, as he submitted to his +brother's professional handling. "There's plenty of kick left in me. +By the way, tell me what you think about Daisy. I must call on her +to-morrow before I leave." + +This intention, however, was not fulfilled, for Daisy herself came +early to the doctor's house to visit him. Far from well though she +was, she made the effort as a matter of course. Nick was too near a +friend to neglect. Blake did not accompany her. He was riding with +Muriel. + +She found Nick stretched out in luxurious idleness on a couch in +the sunshine. He made a movement to spring to meet her, but checked +himself with a laugh. + +"This is awfully good of you, Daisy. I was coming to see you later, +but I'm nailed to this confounded sofa for the next two hours, having +solemnly sworn to Jim that nothing short of battle, murder or sudden +death should induce me to move. I'm afraid I can't reasonably describe +your coming as any of these, so I must remain a fixture. It's Jimmy's +rest cure." + +He reached out his hand to Daisy, who took it in both her own. "My +poor dear Nick!" she said, and stooping impulsively kissed him on the +forehead. + +"Bless you!" said Nick. "I'm ten times better for that. Sit down here, +won't you? Pull up close. I've got a lot to say." + +Of sympathy for her recent bereavement, however, he said no word +whatever. He only held her hand. + +"There's poor old Will," he said: "I spent the night with him on my +way down. He's beastly homesick--sent all sorts of messages to you. +You'll be going out in the winter?" + +"It depends," said Daisy. + +"He's breaking his heart for you, like a silly ass," said Nick. "How +long has Muriel been engaged to Grange?" + +Daisy started at the sudden question. + +"It's all right," Nick assured her. "I'm not a bit savage. It'll be a +little experience for her. When did it begin?" + +Daisy hesitated. "Some weeks ago now." + +Nick nodded. "Exactly. As soon as she heard I was coming. Funny of +her. And what of Grange? Is he smitten?" + +Daisy flushed painfully, and tried to laugh. "Don't be so +cold-blooded, Nick. Of course he--he's fond of her." + +"Oh, he--he's fond of her, is he?" said Nick. He looked at her +suddenly, and laughed with clenched teeth. "I'm infernally rude, I +know. But why put it in that way? Should you say I was 'fond' of her?" + +Daisy met his darting, elusive glance with a distinct effort. "I +shouldn't say you were fond of any one, Nick. The term doesn't +apply where you are concerned. There never were two men more totally +different than you and Blake. But he isn't despicable for all that. +He's a child compared to you, but he's a good child. He would never do +wrong unless some one tempted him." + +"That's so with a good many of us," remarked Nick, sneering faintly. +"Let us hope that when the account comes to be totted up, allowance +will be made." + +Daisy's hand upon his banished the sneer. "Be fair, Nick," she urged. +"We are not all made with wills of iron. I know you are bitter because +you think he isn't good enough for her. But would you think any man +good enough? Don't think I wanted this. I was on your side. But I--I +was busy at the time with--other things. And I didn't see it coming." + +Nick's face softened. He said nothing. + +She bent towards him. "I would have given anything to have stopped it +when I knew. But it was too late. Will you forgive me, Nick?" + +He patted her hand lightly. "Of course, of course. Don't fret on my +account." + +"But I do," she whispered vehemently. "I do. I know--how horribly--it +hurts." + +Nick's fingers closed suddenly upon hers. His eyes went beyond her. + +"Mrs. Musgrave," he said, "I am gifted with a superhuman intelligence, +remember. I know some cards by their backs." + +Daisy withdrew her hand swiftly. His tone had been one of warning. +She threw him a look of sharp uneasiness. She did not ask him what he +meant. + +"Tell me some more about Will," she said. "I was thinking of writing +to him to-day." + +And Nick forthwith plunged into a graphic account of the man who was +slaving night and day in the burning Plains of the East for the woman +of his heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +AN OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP + + +It was with unspeakable relief that Muriel learned of Nick's +departure. That he had elected to take Olga with him surprised her +considerably and caused her some regret. Grange had discovered some +urgent business that demanded his presence in town, and she missed the +child in consequence more than she would otherwise have done. + +Daisy was growing stronger, and was beginning to contemplate a change, +moved at last by Jim Ratcliffe's persistent urging. There was a +cottage at Brethaven which, he declared, would suit her exactly. +Muriel raised no objection to the plan. She knew it would be for +Daisy's benefit, but her heart sank whenever she thought of it. She +was glad when early in June Blake came back to them for a few days +before starting on a round of visits. + +He approved of the Brethaven plan warmly, and he and Muriel rode over +one morning to the little seaside village to make arrangements. Muriel +said no more to him upon the subject of Nick. On this one point +she had come to know that it was vain to look for sympathy. He had +promised to help her indeed, but he simply did not understand +her nervous shrinking from the man. Moreover, Nick had made it so +abundantly evident that he had no intention of thrusting himself upon +her that there could be no ground for fear on that score. Besides, was +not her engagement her safeguard? + +As for Blake, her silence upon the matter made him hope that she was +getting over her almost childish panic. With all the goodwill in the +world, he could not see that his presence as watch-dog was required. + +Yet, as they turned from the cottage on the shore with their errand +accomplished, he did say after some hesitation, "Of course, if for +any reason you should want me when I am away, you must let me know. I +would come at once." + +She thanked him with a heightened colour, and he had a feeling that +his allusion had been unwelcome. They rode up from the beach in +silence. + +Turning a sharp corner towards the village where they proposed to +lunch, they came suddenly upon a motor stationary by the roadside. +A whoop of cheery recognition greeted them before either of them +realised that it was occupied, and they discovered Nick seated on the +step, working with his one hand at the foot-brake. Olga was with him, +endeavouring to assist. + +Nick's face grinned welcome impartially to the newcomers. "Hullo! This +is luck. Delighted to see you. Grange, my boy, here's a little job +exactly suited to your Herculean strength. Climb down like a good +fellow, and lend a hand." + +Grange glanced at Muriel, and with a slight shrug handed her his +bridle. "I'm not much good at this sort of thing," he remarked, as he +dismounted. + +"Never thought you were for a moment," responded Nick. "But I suppose +you can do as you're told at a pinch. This filthy thing has got +jammed. It's too tough a job for a single-handed pigmy like me." He +glanced quizzically up at Muriel with the last remark, but she quickly +averted her eyes, bending to speak to Olga at the same instant. + +Olga was living in the seventh heaven just then, and her radiant face +proclaimed it. "I'm learning to drive," she told Muriel. "It's the +greatest fun. You would just love it. I know you would." She stood +fondling the horses and chattering while the two men wrestled with the +motor's internal arrangements, and Muriel longed desperately to give +her animal the rein and flee away from the mocking sprite that gibed +at her from Nick's eyes. Whence came it, this feeling of insecurity, +this perpetual sense of fighting against the inevitable? She had +fancied that Blake's presence would be her safeguard, but now she +bitterly realised that it made no difference to her. He stood as it +were outside the ropes, and was powerless to intervene. + +Suddenly she saw them stand up. The business was done. They stood for +a second side by side--Blake gigantic, well-proportioned, splendidly +strong; Nick, meagre, maimed, almost shrunken, it seemed. But in that +second she knew with unerring conviction that the greater fighter of +the two was the man against whom she had pitted her quivering woman's +strength. She knew at a single glance that for all his bodily weakness +Nick possessed the power to dominate even so mighty a giant as Blake. +What she had said to herself many a time before, she said again. He +was abnormal, superhuman even; more--where he chose to exert himself, +he was irresistible. + +The realisation went through her, sharp and piercing, horribly +distinct. She had sought shelter like a frightened rabbit in the +densest cover she could find, but, crouching low, she heard the rush +of the remorseless wings above her. She knew that at any moment he +could rend her refuge to pieces and hold her at his mercy. + +Abruptly he left Blake and came to her side. "I want you and Grange to +come to Redlands for luncheon," he said. "Olga is hostess there. Don't +refuse." + +"Oh, do come!" urged Olga, dancing eagerly upon one leg. "You've never +been to Redlands, have you? It's such a lovely place. Say you'll come, +Muriel." + +Muriel scarcely heard her. She was looking down into Nick's face, +seeking, seeking for the hundredth time, to read that baffling mask. + +"Don't refuse," he said again. "You'll get nothing but underdone chops +at the inn here, and I can't imagine that to be a weakness of yours." + +She gave up her fruitless search. "I will come," she said. + +"It's exactly as you like, you know, Muriel," Grange put in awkwardly. + +She understood the precise meaning of Nick's laugh. She even for a +moment wanted to laugh herself. "Thank you. I should like to," she +said. + +Nick nodded and turned aside. "Olga, stop capering," he ordered, "and +drive me home." + +Olga obeyed him promptly, with the gaiety of a squirrel. As Nick +seated himself by her side, Muriel saw her turn impulsively and rub +her cheek against his shoulder. It gave her a queer little tingling +shock to see the child's perfect confidence in him. But then--but +then--Olga had never looked on horror, had never seen the devil leap +out in naked fury upon her hero's face. + +They waited to let the car go first, Olga proudly grasping the wheel; +then, trotting briskly, followed in its wake. + +Muriel had an uneasy feeling that Blake wanted to apologise, and she +determined that he should not have the opportunity. Each time that +he gave any sign of wishing to draw nearer to her, she touched her +horse's flank. Something in the nature of a revelation had come to +her during that brief halt by the roadside. For the first time she +had caught a glimpse, plain and unvarnished, of the actual man that +inhabited the giant's frame, and it had given her an odd, disturbing +suspicion that the strength upon which she leaned was in simple fact +scarcely equal to her own. + +The way to Redlands lay through leafy woodlands through which here +and there the summer sea gleamed blue. Turning in at the open gates, +Muriel uttered an exclamation of delight. She seemed to have suddenly +entered fairyland. The house, long, low, rambling, roofed with thatch, +stood at the end of a winding drive that was bordered on both sides +by a blaze of rhododendron flowers. Down below her on the left was a +miniature glen from which arose the tinkle of running water. On her +right the trees grew thickly, completely shutting out the road. + +"Oh, Blake!" she exclaimed. "What a perfect paradise!" + +"Like it?" said Nick; and with a start she saw him coolly step out +from a shadowy path behind them and close the great iron gate. + +Impulsively she pulled up and slipped to the ground. "Take my horse, +Blake," she said. "I must run down to that stream." + +He obeyed her, not very willingly, and Nick with a chuckle turned and +plunged after her down the narrow path. "Go straight ahead!" he called +back. "Olga is waiting for you at the house." + +He came up with Muriel on the edge of the fairy stream. Her face was +flushed and her eyes nervous, but she met him bravely. She had known +in her heart that he would follow. As he stopped beside her, she +turned with a little desperate laugh and held out her hand. + +"Is it peace?" she said rather breathlessly. + +She felt his fingers, tense as wire, close about her own. "Seems like +it," he said. "What are you afraid of? Me?" + +She could not meet his look. But the necessity for some species of +understanding pressed upon her. She wanted unspeakably to conciliate +him. + +"I want to be friends with you, Nick," she said, "if you will let me." + +"What for?" said Nick sharply. + +She was silent. She could not tell him that her sure defence had +crumbled at a touch. Somehow she was convinced that he knew it +already. + +"You never wanted such a thing before," he said. "You certainly +weren't hankering after it the last time we met." + +Her cheeks burned at the memory. Again she felt ashamed. With a great +effort she forced herself to speak with a certain frankness. + +"I am afraid," she said--"I have thought since--that I was rather +heartless that day. The fact was, I was taken by surprise. But I am +sorry now, Nick. I am very sorry." + +Her tone was unconsciously piteous. Surely he must see that if they +were to meet often, as inevitably they must, some sort of agreement +between them was imperative. She must feel stable ground beneath her +feet. Their intercourse could not be one perpetual passage of arms. +Flesh and blood could never endure it. + +But Nick did not apparently view the matter in the same light. "Pray +don't be sorry," he airily begged her. "I quite understood. I never +take offence where none is intended, and not always where it is. So +dismiss the matter from your mind with all speed. There is not the +smallest occasion for regret." + +He meant to elude her, she saw, and she turned from him without +another word. There was to be no understanding then, no friendly +feeling, no peace of mind. She had trusted to his generosity, and it +was quite clear that he had no intention of being generous. + +As they walked by a mossy pathway towards the house, they talked upon +indifferent things. But the girl's heart was very bitter within +her. She would have given almost anything to have flung back his +hospitality in his grinning, triumphant face, and have departed with +her outraged pride to the farthest corner of the earth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE EAGLE HOVERS + + +Luncheon in the low, old-fashioned dining-room at Redlands with its +windows facing the open sea, with Olga beaming at the head of the +table, would have been a peaceful and pleasant meal, had Muriel's +state of mind allowed her to enjoy it. But Nick's treatment of her +overture had completely banished all enjoyment for her. She forced +herself to eat and to appear unconcerned, but she was quivering +inwardly with a burning sense of resentment. She was firmly determined +that she would never be alone with him again. He had managed by those +few scoffing words of his to arouse in her all the bitterness of which +she was capable. If she had feared him before, she hated him now with +the whole force of her nature. + +He seemed to be blissfully unconscious of her hostility and played the +part of host with complete ease of manner. Long before the meal was +over, Grange had put aside his sullenness, and they were conversing +together as comrades. + +Nick had plenty to say. He spoke quite openly of his illness, and +declared himself to have completely recovered from it. "Even Jim has +ceased his gruesome threats," he said cheerily. "There will be no more +lopping of branches this season. Just as well, for I chance to have +developed an affection for what is left." + +"You're going back to the Regiment, I suppose?" Blake questioned. + +"No, he isn't," thrust in Olga, and was instantly frowned upon by +Nick. + +"Speak when you're spoken to, little girl! That's a question you are +not qualified to answer. I'm on half-pay at present, and I haven't +made up my mind." + +"I should quit in your place," Grange remarked, with his eyes on the +dazzling sea. + +"No doubt you would," Nick responded dryly. "And what should you +advise, Muriel?" + +The question was unexpected, but she had herself in hand, and answered +it instantly. "I certainly shouldn't advise you to quit." + +He raised his eyebrows. "Might one ask why?" + +She was quite ready for him, inspired by an overmastering longing +to hurt him if that were possible. "Because if you gave up your +profession, you would be nothing but a vacuum. If the chance to +destroy life were put out of your reach, you would simply cease to +exist." + +She spoke rapidly, her voice pitched very low. She was trembling all +over, and her hands were clenched under the table to hide it. + +The laugh with which Nick received her words jarred intolerably upon +her. She heard nothing in it but deliberate cruelty. + +"Great Lucifer!" he said. "You have got me under the microscope with +a vengeance. But you can't see through me, you know. I have a reverse +side. Hadn't you better turn me over and look at that? There may be +sorcery and witchcraft there as well." + +There might be. She could well have imagined it. But these were lesser +things in which she had no concern. She turned his thrust aside with +disdain. + +"I am not sufficiently interested," she said. "The little I know is +enough." + +"Well hit!" chuckled Nick. "I retire from the fray, discomfited. Olga +_mia_, I wish you would find the cigars. You know where they are." + +Olga sprang to do his bidding. Having handed the box to Grange she +came to Nick and stood beside him while she cut and lighted a cigar +for him. + +He put his arm round her for a moment, and she stooped a flushed face +and kissed the top of his head. + +"Run along," said Nick. "Take Muriel into the garden. She hasn't seen +it all." + +Muriel rose. "We mustn't be late in starting back," she remarked to +Blake. + +But Olga lingered to whisper vehemently in Nick's ear. + +He laughed and shook his head. "Go, child, go! You don't know anything +about it. And Muriel is waiting. You should never keep a guest +waiting." + +Olga went reluctantly. They passed out into the clear June sunshine +together and down towards the shady shrubberies beyond the lawns. + +"Can Nick play tennis?" Muriel asked, as they crossed a marked-out +court. + +"Yes, he can do anything," the child said proudly. "He was on +horseback this morning, and he managed splendidly. We generally +play tennis in the evening. He almost always wins. His services are +terrific. I can't think how he does it. He calls it juggling. I try to +manage with only one hand sometimes--just to keep him company--but I +always make a mess of things. There's no one in the world as clever as +Nick." + +Muriel felt inclined to agree with her, though in her opinion this +distinguishing quality was not an altogether admirable one. She +infinitely preferred people with fewer brains. She would not, however, +say this to Olga, and they paced on together under the trees in +silence. Suddenly a warm hand slid within her arm, and Olga's grey +eyes, very loving and wistful, looked up into hers. + +"Muriel darling," she whispered softly, "don't you--don't you--like +Nick after all?" + +The colour rushed over Muriel's face in a vivid flood. + +"Like him! Like him!" she stammered. "Why do you ask?" + +"Because, dear--don't be vexed, I love you frightfully--you did hurt +him so at lunch," explained Olga, pressing very close to her. + +"Hurt him! Hurt him!" Again Muriel repeated her words, then, +recovering sharply, broke into a sudden laugh. "My dear child, I +couldn't possibly do such a thing if I tried." + +"But you did, you did!" persisted Olga, a faint note of indignation in +her voice. "You don't know Nick. He feels--tremendously. Of course +you might not see it, for it doesn't often show. But I know--I always +know--when he is hurt, by the way he laughs. And he was hurt to-day." + +She stuck firmly to her point, notwithstanding Muriel's equally +persistent attitude of incredulity, till even Muriel was conscious at +last in her inner soul of a faint wonder, a dim and wholly negligible +sense of regret. Not that she would under any circumstances have +recalled that thrust of hers. She felt it had been dealt in fair +fight; but even in fair fight there come sometimes moments of regret, +when one feels that the enemy's hand has been intentionally slack. She +knew well that, had he chosen, Nick might have thrust back, instantly +and disconcertingly, as his manner was. But he had refrained, merely +covering up his wound--if wound there had been--with the laugh that +had so wrung Olga's loving heart. His ways were strange. She would +never understand him. But she would like to have known how deep that +thrust had gone. + +Could she have overheard the conversation between Nick and his +remaining guest that followed her departure, she might have received +enlightenment on this point, but Nick took very good care to ensure +that that conversation should be overheard by none. + +As soon as Grange had finished his coffee, he proposed a move to the +library, and led the way thither, leaving his own drink untouched +behind him. + +The library was a large and comfortable apartment completely shut +away from the rest of the house, and singularly ill-adapted for +eavesdroppers. The windows looked upon a wide stretch of lawn upon +which even a bird could scarcely have lingered unnoticed. The light +that filtered in through green sun-blinds was cool and restful. An +untidy writing-table and a sofa strewn with cushions in disorderly +attitudes testified to the fact that Nick had appropriated this room +for his own particular den. There was also a sun-bonnet tossed upon a +chair which seemed to indicate that Olga at least did not regard his +privacy as inviolable. The ancient brown volumes stacked upon shelves +that ranged almost from floor to ceiling were comfortably undisturbed. +It was plainly a sanctum in which ease and not learning ruled supreme. + +Nick established his visitor in an easy-chair and hunted for an +ash-tray. Grange watched him uncomfortably. + +"I'm awfully sorry about your arm, Ratcliffe," he said at length. "A +filthy bit of bad luck that." + +"Damnable," said Nick. + +"I've been meaning to look you up for a long time," Grange proceeded, +"but somehow it hasn't come off." + +Nick laughed rather dryly. He was perfectly well aware that Grange had +been steadily avoiding him ever since his return. "Very good of you," +he said, subsiding upon the sofa and pulling the cushions about him. +"I've been saving up my congratulations for you all these weeks. I +might have written, of course, but I had a notion that the spoken word +would be more forcible." + +Grange stirred uneasily, neither understanding nor greatly relishing +Nick's tone. He wished vehemently that he would leave the subject +alone. + +Nick, however, had no such intention. A faint fiendish smile was +twitching the corners of his lips. He did not even glance in Blake's +direction. There was no need. + +"Well, I wish you joy," he said lightly. + +"Thank you," returned Grange, without elation and with very little +gratitude. In some occult fashion, Nick was making it horribly awkward +for him. He longed to change the subject, but could find nothing to +say--possibly because Nick quite obviously had not yet done with it. + +"Going to get married before you sail?" he asked abruptly. + +"I don't think so." Very reluctantly Grange made reply. + +"Why not?" said Nick. + +"Muriel doesn't want to be married till she is out of mourning," +Grange explained. + +"Why doesn't she go out of mourning then?" + +Grange didn't know, hadn't even thought of it. + +"Perhaps she will elect to wear mourning all her life," suggested +Nick. "Have you thought of that?" + +There was a distinct gibe in this, and Grange at once retreated to a +less exposed position. "I am quite willing to wait for her," he said. +"And she knows it." + +"You're deuced easily pleased then," rejoined Nick. "And let me tell +you--for I'm sure you don't know--there's not a single woman under the +sun who appreciates that sort of patience." + +Grange ignored the information with a decidedly sullen air. He did +not regard Nick as particularly well qualified to give him advice upon +such a subject. + +After a moment Nick saw his attitude, and laughed aloud. "Yes, say it, +man! It's quite true in a sense, and I shouldn't contradict you if it +weren't. But has it never occurred to you that I was under a terrific +disadvantage from the very beginning? Do you remember that I undertook +the job that you shirked? Or do you possibly present the matter to +yourself--and others--in some more attractive form?" + +He turned upon his elbow with the question and regarded Grange with an +odd expectancy. But Grange smoked in silence, not raising his eyes. + +Suddenly Nick spoke in a different tone, a tone that was tense without +vibrating. "It doesn't matter how you put it. The truth remains. +You didn't love her then. If you had loved her, you must have been +ready--as I was ready--to make the final sacrifice. But you were not +ready. You hung back. You let me take the place which only a man who +cared enough to protect her to the uttermost could have taken. You +let me do this thing, and I did it. I brought her through untouched. I +kept her--night and day I kept her--from harm of any sort. And she has +been my first care ever since. You won't believe this, I daresay, but +it's true. And--mark this well--I will only let her go to the man who +will make her happy. Once I meant to be that man. You don't suppose, +do you, that I brought her safe through hell just for the pleasure of +seeing her marry another fellow? But it's all the same now what I did +it for. I've been knocked out of the running." His eyelids suddenly +quivered as if at a blow. "It doesn't matter to you how. It wasn't +because she fancied any one else. She hadn't begun to think of you +in those days. I let her go, never mind why. I let her go, but she is +still in my keeping, and will be till she is the actual property of +another man--yes, and after that too. I saved her, remember. I won the +right of guardianship over her. So be careful what you do. Marry her +if you love her. But if you don't, leave her alone. She shall be no +man's second best. That I swear." + +He ceased abruptly. His yellow face was full of passion. His hand was +clenched upon the sofa-cushion. The whole body of the man seemed to +thrill and quiver with electric force. + +And then in a moment it all passed. As at the touching of a spring his +muscles relaxed. The naked passion was veiled again--the old mask of +banter replaced. + +He stretched out his hand to the man who had sat in silence and +listened to that one fierce outburst of a force which till then had +contained itself. + +"I speak as a fool," he said lightly. "Nothing new for me, you'll say. +But just for my satisfaction--because she hates me so--put your hand +in mine and swear you will seek her happiness before everything else +in the world. I shall never trouble you again after this fashion. I +have spoken." + +Blake sat for several seconds without speaking. Then, as if impelled +thereto, he leaned slowly forward and laid his hand in Nick's. He +seemed to have something to say, but it did not come. + +Nick waited. + +"I swear," Blake said at length. + +His voice was low, and he did not attempt to look Nick in the face, +but he obviously meant what he said. + +And Nick seemed to be satisfied. In less than five seconds, he had +tossed the matter carelessly aside as one having no further concern in +it. But the memory of that interview was as a searing flame to Blake's +soul for long after. + +For he knew that the man from whom Muriel had sought his protection +was more worthy of her than he, and his heart cried bitter shame upon +him for that knowledge. + +It was with considerable difficulty that he responded to Nick's airy +nothings during the half-hour that followed, and the unusual alacrity +with which he seized upon his host's suggestion that he might care +to see the garden, testified to his relief at being released from the +obligation of doing so. + +They went out together on to the wide lawn and sauntered down to a +summer-house on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the whole mighty +expanse of sea. It lay dreaming in the sunlight, with hardly a ripple +upon the long white beach below. And here they came upon Muriel and +Olga, sitting side by side on the grass. + +Olga had just finished pulling a daisy to pieces. She tossed it away +at Nick's approach, and sprang to meet him. + +"It's very disappointing," she declared. "It's the fourth time I've +done it, and it always comes the same. I've been making the daisies +tell Muriel's fortune, and it always comes to 'He would if he could, +but he can't.' You try this time, Nick." + +"All right. You hold the daisy," said Nick. + +Muriel looked up with a slightly heightened colour. "I think we ought +to be going," she remarked. + +"We have just ordered the horses for four o'clock," Grange said +apologetically. + +She glanced at the watch on her wrist--half-past three. Nick, seated +cross-legged on the grass in front of her, had already, with Olga's +able assistance, begun his game. + +Swiftly the tiny petals fell from his fingers. He was very intent, +and in spite of herself Muriel became intent too, held by a most +unaccountable fascination. So handicapped was he that he could not +even pull a flower to pieces without assistance. And yet-- + +Suddenly he looked across at her. "He loves her!" he announced. + +"Oh, Nick!" exclaimed Olga reproachfully. "You cheated! You pulled off +two!" + +"He usually does cheat," Muriel observed, plucking a flower of grass +and regarding it with absorption. + +"So do you," retorted Nick unexpectedly. + +"I!" She looked at him in amazement. "What do you mean?" + +"I sha'n't tell you," he returned, "because you know, or you would +know if you took the trouble to find out. Grange, I wish you would +give me a light. Hullo, Olga, there's a hawk! See him? Straight above +that cedar!" + +All turned to look at the dark shape of the bird hovering in mid-air. +Seconds passed. Suddenly there was a flashing, downward swoop, and the +sky was empty. + +Olga exclaimed, and Nick sent up a wild whoop of applause. Muriel gave +a great start and glanced at him. For a single instant his look met +hers; then with a sick shudder, she turned aside. + +"You are cold," said Grange. + +Yes, she was cold. It was as if an icy hand had closed upon her heart. +As from an immense distance, she heard Olga's voice of protest. + +"Oh, Nick, how can you cheer?" + +And his careless reply. "My good child, don't grudge the poor creature +his dinner. Even a bird of prey must live. Come along! We'll go in to +tea. Muriel is cold." + +They went in, and again his easy hospitality overcame all +difficulties. + +When at length the visitors rode away, they left him grinning a cheery +farewell from his doorstep. He seemed to be in the highest spirits. + +They were more than half-way home when Muriel turned impetuously to +her companion, breaking a long silence. + +"Blake," she said, "I am ready to marry you as soon as you like." + + + + +PART IV + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE FACE IN THE STORM + + +Muriel saw very little of her _fiance_ during the weeks that followed +their visit to Redlands. There was not indeed room for him at the +cottage at Brethaven which she and Daisy had taken for the summer +months. He had, moreover, several visits to pay, and his leave would +be up in September. + +Muriel herself, having once made her decision, had plenty to occupy +her. They had agreed to adhere to Sir Reginald Bassett's plan for +them, and to be married in India some time before Christmas. But she +did not want to go to Lady Bassett's sister before she left England, +and she was glad when Daisy declared that she herself would go to town +with her in the autumn. + +A change had come over Daisy of late, a change which Muriel keenly +felt, but which she was powerless to define. It seemed to date from +the arrival of Nick though she did not definitely connect it with him. +There was nothing palpable in it, nothing even remotely suggestive +of a breach between them; only, subconsciously as it were, Muriel had +become aware that their silence, which till then had been the silence +of sympathy, had subtly changed till it had become the silence of a +deep though unacknowledged reserve. It was wholly intangible, this +change. No outsider would have guessed of its existence. But to the +younger girl it was always vaguely present. She knew that somewhere +between herself and her friend there was a locked door. Her own +reserve never permitted her to attempt to open it. With a species of +pride that was largely composed of shyness, she held aloof. But she +was never quite unconscious of the opposing barrier. She felt that the +old sweet intimacy, that had so lightened the burden of her solitude, +was gone. + +Meanwhile, Daisy was growing stronger, and day by day more active. She +never referred to her baby, and very seldom to her husband. When his +letters arrived she invariably put them away with scarcely a glance. +Muriel sometimes wondered if she even read them. It was pitifully +plain to her that Will Musgrave's place in his wife's heart was very, +very narrow. It had dwindled perceptibly since the baby's death. + +On the subject of Will's letters, Nick could have enlightened her, for +he always appeared at the cottage on mail-day for news. But Muriel, +having discovered this habit, as regularly absented herself, with the +result that they seldom met. He never made any effort to see her. On +one occasion when she came unexpectedly upon him and Olga, shrimping +along the shore, she was surprised that he did not second the child's +eager proposal that she should join them. He actually seemed too keen +upon the job in hand to pay her much attention. + +And gradually she began to perceive that this was the attitude towards +her that he had decided to assume. What it veiled she knew not, nor +did she inquire. It was enough for her that hostilities had ceased. +Nick apparently was bestowing his energies elsewhere. + +Midsummer passed, and a July of unusual heat drew on. Dr. Jim and his +wife and boys had departed to Switzerland. Nick and Olga had elected +to remain at Redlands. They were out all day long in the motor or +dogcart, on horseback or on foot. Life was one perpetual picnic to +Olga just then, and she was not looking forward to the close of the +summer holidays when, so her father had decreed, she was to return to +her home and the ordinary routine. Nick's plans were still unsettled +though he spoke now and then of a prospective return to India. He must +in any case return thither, so he once told her, whether he decided +to remain or not. It was not a pleasant topic to Olga, and she always +sought to avoid any allusion to it. After the fashion of children, she +lived in the present, and enjoyed it to the full: bathing with +Muriel every morning, and spending the remainder of the day in Nick's +society. The friendship between these two was based upon complete +understanding. They had been comrades as long as Olga could remember. +Given Nick, it was very seldom that she desired any one besides. + +Muriel had ceased to marvel over this strange fact. She had come to +realise that Nick was, and always must be, an enigma to her. In +the middle of July, when the heat was so intense as to be almost +intolerable, Daisy received a pressing invitation to visit an old +friend, and to go yachting on the Broads. She refused it at first +point-blank; but Muriel, hearing of the matter before the letter was +sent, interfered, and practically insisted upon a change of decision. + +"It is the very thing for you," she declared. "Brethaven has done +its best for you. But you want a dose of more bracing air to make you +quite strong again. It's absurd of you to dream of throwing away such +an opportunity. I simply won't let you do it." + +"But how can I possibly leave you all alone?" Daisy protested. "If the +Ratcliffes were at home, I might think of it, but--" + +"That settles it," Muriel announced with determination. "I never heard +such nonsense in my life. What do you think could possibly happen +to me here? You know perfectly well that a couple of weeks of my own +society would do me no harm whatever." + +So insistent was she, that finally she gained her point, and Daisy, +albeit somewhat reluctantly, departed for Norfolk, leaving her to her +own devices. + +The heat was so great in those first days of solitude that Muriel was +not particularly energetic. Apart from her early swim with Olga, and +an undeniably languid stroll in the evening, she scarcely left the +precincts of the cottage: No visitors came to her. There were none but +fisher-folk in the little village. And so her sole company consisted +of Daisy's _ayah_ and the elderly English cook. + +But she did not suffer from loneliness. She had books and work in +plenty, and it was even something of a relief, though she never owned +it, to be apart from Daisy for a little. They never disagreed, but +always at the back of her mind there lay the consciousness of a gulf +between them. + +She was at first somewhat anxious lest Nick should feel called upon +to entertain her, and should invite her to accompany him and Olga upon +some of their expeditions. But he did not apparently think of it, and +she was always very emphatic in assuring Olga that she was enjoying +her quiet time. + +She and Nick had not met for some weeks, and she began to think it +more than probable that they would not do so during Daisy's absence. +Under ordinary circumstances this expectation of hers would doubtless +have been realised, for Nick had plainly every intention of keeping +out of her way; but the day of emergency usually dawns upon a world of +sleepers. + +The brooding heat culminated at last in an evening of furious storm, +and Muriel speedily left the dinner-table to watch the magnificent +spectacle of vivid and almost continuous lightning over the sea. +It was a wonder that always drew her. She did not feel the nervous +oppression that torments so many women, or if she felt it she rose +above it. The splendour of the rising storm lifted her out of herself. +She had no thought for anything else. + +For more than half an hour she stood by the little sitting-room +window, gazing out upon the storm-tossed water. It had not begun to +rain, but the sound of it was in the air, and the earth was waiting +expectantly. There seemed to be a feeling of expectation everywhere. +She was vaguely restless under it, curiously impatient for the climax. + +It came at last, so suddenly, so blindingly, that she reeled back +against the curtain in sheer, physical recoil. The whole sky seemed to +burst into flame, and the crash of thunder was so instantaneous that +she felt as if a shell had exploded at her feet. Trembling, she hid +her face. The world seemed to rock all around her. For the first time +she was conscious of fear. + +Then as the thunder died into a distant roar, the heavens opened as if +at a word of command, and in one marvellous, glittering sheet the rain +burst forth. + +She lifted her head to gaze upon this new wonder that the incessant +lightning revealed. The noise was like the sharp rattle of musketry, +and it almost drowned the heavier artillery overhead. The window was +blurred and streaming, but the brilliance outside was such that every +detail in the little garden was clear to her notwithstanding. And +though she still trembled, she nerved herself to look forth. + +An instant later she sprang backwards with a wild cry of terror. +A face--a wrinkled face that she knew--was there close against the +window-pane, and had looked into her own. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE LIFTING OF THE MASK + + +Out of a curious numbness that had almost been a swoon there came to +her the consciousness of a hand that rapped and rapped and rapped +upon the pane. She had fled away to the farther end of the room in her +panic. She had turned the lamp low at the beginning of the storm, and +now it burned so dimly that it scarcely gave out any light at all. +Beyond the window, the lightning flashed with an awful luridness +upon the rushing hail. Beyond the window, looking in upon her, and +knocking, knocking, knocking, stood the figure of her dread. + +She came to herself slowly, with a quaking heart. It was more horrible +to her than anything she had known since the days of her flight +from the beleaguered fort; but she knew that she must fight down her +horror, she knew as certainly as if a physical force compelled her +that she would have to go to the window, would have to open to the man +who waited there. + +Slowly she brought her quivering body into subjection, while every +nerve twitched and clamoured to escape. Slowly she dragged herself +back to the vision that had struck her with that paralysis of terror. +Resisting feebly, invisibly compelled, she went. + +He ceased to knock, and, his face against the pane, he spoke +imperatively. What he said, she could not hear in that tumult of +mighty sound. Only she felt his insistence, answered to it, was +mastered by it. + +White-faced, with horror clutching at her heart, she undid the catch. +His one hand, strong, instinct with energy, helped her to raise the +sash. In a moment he was in the room, bare-headed, drenched from head +to foot. + +She fell back before him, but he scarcely looked at her. He shut +the window sharply, then strode to the lamp, and turned it up. +Then, abruptly he wheeled and spoke in a voice half-kindly, +half-contemptuous. "Muriel, you're a little idiot!" + +There was little in the words to comfort her, yet she was instantly +and vastly reassured. She was also for the moment overwhelmingly +ashamed, but he did not give her time to think of that. + +"I couldn't get in any other way," he said. "I tried the doors first, +hammered at them, but no one came. Look here! Olga is ill, very ill, +and she wants you badly. Are you brave enough to come?" + +"Oh!" Muriel said, with a gasp. "Now, do you mean? With--with you?" + +He threw her an odd look under his flickering eyelids, and she noted +with a scared minuteness of attention the gleam of the lamplight on +their pale lashes. She had always hated pale eyelashes. They seemed to +her untrustworthy. + +"Yes," he told her grimly. "All alone--with me--in the storm. Shall +you be afraid--if I give you my hand to hold? You've done it before." + +Was he mocking her weakness? She could not say. She only knew that he +watched her with the intensity of an eagle that marks its quarry. He +did not mean her to refuse. + +"What is the matter with Olga?" she asked. + +"I don't know. I believe it is sunstroke. We were motoring in the +mid-day heat. She didn't seem to feel it at the time, but her head +ached when we got in. She is in a high fever now. I've sent my man on +in the motor to fetch Jim's locum from Weir. I should have brought the +dogcart myself, to fetch you, but I couldn't trust the horse in this." + +"You left her alone to come here?" Muriel questioned. + +He nodded. "I had no choice. She wished it. Besides, there were +none but women-folk left. She's got one of them with her, the least +imbecile of the lot, which isn't saying much. They're all terrified +of course at the storm--all except Olga. She is never afraid of +anything." + +A frightful crash of thunder carried away his words. Before it had +rolled away, Muriel was at the door. She made a rapid sign to him, and +was gone. + +Nick chafed up and down the room, waiting for her. The storm continued +with unabated violence, but he did not give it a thought. He was +counting the moments with feverish impatience. + +Muriel's absence scarcely lasted for five minutes, but when she +came back all trace of fear had left her. Her face showed quiet and +matter-of-fact above the long waterproof in which she had wrapped +herself. Over her arm she carried a waterproof cloak. + +She held it out to him. "It's one of Daisy's, but you are to wear it. +I think you must be mad to have come out without anything." + +She put it round his shoulders; and he thanked her with a smothered +laugh. + +A terrific blast of wind and rain met them as they emerged from the +cottage, nearly whirling Muriel off her feet. She made an instinctive +clutch at her companion and instantly her hand was caught fast in his. +He drew her arm close under his own, and she did not resist him. There +was something reassuring in his touch. + +Later she wondered if they spoke at all during that terrible walk. She +could never recall a word on either side. And yet, though in a measure +frightened, she was not panic-stricken. + +The storm was beginning to subside a little before they reached +Redlands, though the rain still fell heavily. In the intervals between +the lightning it was pitch dark. They had no lantern, but Nick was +undismayed. He walked as lightly and surely as a cat, and Muriel +had no choice but to trust herself unreservedly to his guidance. She +marvelled afterwards at the complete trust with which that night he +had managed to inspire her, but at the time she never questioned it. + +Yet when the lights of Redlands shone at last through the gloom, she +breathed a sigh of relief. Instantly Nick spoke. + +"Well done!", he said briefly. "You are your father's daughter still." + +She knew that she flushed in the darkness, and was glad that he could +not see her face. + +"You must go and get dry, first of all," he went on. "I told them to +light a fire somewhere. And you are to have some coffee too. Mind, I +say it." + +To this she responded with some spirit. "I will if you will." + +"I must go straight to Olga," he said. "I promised I would." + +"Not in your wet things!" Muriel exclaimed. "No, Nick! Listen! I am +not wet, not as you are. Let me go to Olga first. You can send me some +coffee in her room if you like. But you must go at once and change. +Promise you will, Nick!" + +She spoke urgently. For some reason the occasion seemed to demand it. + +Nick was silent for a little, as if considering. Then as they finally +reached the porch he spoke in a tone she did not altogether fathom. + +"I say, you are not going to shut me out, you know." + +She looked up in astonishment. "Of course not. I never dreamt of such +a thing." + +"All right," he said, and this time she knew he spoke with relief. "I +will do as you like then." + +A moment more, and he opened the door, standing aside for her to pass. +She entered quickly, glad to be in shelter, and paused to slip off her +streaming waterproof. He took it from her, passing his hand over her +sleeve. + +"You are sure you are not wet through?" + +"Quite sure," she told him. "Take me straight up, won't you?" + +"Yes. Come this way." + +He preceded her up the wide stairs where he might have walked beside +her, not pausing for an instant till he stood at Olga's door. + +"Go straight in," he said then. "She is expecting you. Tell her, if +she wants to know, that I am coming directly." + +He passed on swiftly with the words, and disappeared into a room close +by. + +Very softly Muriel turned the door-handle and entered. Olga's voice +greeted her before she was well in the room. It sounded husky and +strained. + +"Muriel! Dear Muriel! I'm so glad you've come. I've wanted you so you +can't think. Where's Nick?" + +"He is coming, dearest." Muriel went forward to the bed, and took in +hers the two hands eagerly extended. + +The child was lying in an uneasy position, her hair streaming in a +disordered tangle about her flushed face. She was shivering violently +though the hands Muriel held were burning. "You came all through this +awful storm," she whispered. "It was lovely of you, dear. I hope you +weren't frightened." + +Muriel sat down beside her. "And you have been left all alone," she +said. + +"I didn't mind," gasped Olga. "Mrs. Ellis--that's the cook--was here +at first. But she was such an ass about the thunder that I sent her +away. I expect she's in the coal cellar." + +A gleam of fun shone for an instant in her eyes, and was gone. The +fevered hands closed tightly in Muriel's hold. "I feel so ill," she +murmured, "so ill." + +"Where is it, darling?" Muriel asked her tenderly. + +"It's, it's all over me," moaned Olga. "My head worst, and my throat. +My throat is dreadful. It makes me want to cry." + +There was little that Muriel could do to ease her. She tied back the +tossing hair, and rearranged the bedclothes; then sat down by her +side, hoping she might get some sleep. + +Not long after, Nick crept in on slippered feet, but Olga heard him +instantly, and started up with out-flung arms. "Nick, darling, I want +you! I want you! Come quite close! I think I'm going to die. Don't let +me, Nick!" + +Muriel rose to make room for him, but he motioned her back sharply; +then knelt down himself by the child's pillow and took her head upon +his arm. + +"Stick to it, sweetheart!" he murmured softly. "There's a medicine man +coming, and you'll be better presently." Olga cuddled against him +with a sigh, and comforted by the close holding of his arm dropped +presently into an uneasy doze. + +Nick never stirred from his position, and mutely Muriel sat and +watched him. There was a wonderful tenderness about him just then, a +softness with which she was strangely familiar, but which almost she +had forgotten. If she had never seen him before that moment, she knew +that she would have liked him. + +He seemed to have wholly forgotten her presence. His entire attention +was concentrated upon the child. His lips twitched from time to time, +and she knew that he was very anxious, intensely impatient under his +stillness for the doctor's coming. She remembered that old trick of +his. She had never before associated it with any emotion. + +Suddenly he turned his head as if he had felt her scrutiny, and looked +straight into her eyes. It was only for a moment. His glance flickered +beyond her with scarcely a pause. Yet it was to her as if by that +swift look he had spoken, had for the first time made deep and +passionate protest against her bitter judgment of him, had as it were +shown her in a single flash the human heart beneath the jester's garb. + +And again very deep down in her soul there stirred that blind, +unconscious entity, of the existence of which she herself had so vague +a knowledge, feeling upwards, groping outwards, to the light. + +There came upon her a sudden curious sense of consternation--a feeling +as of a mental earthquake when the very foundations of the soul +are shaken. Had she conceivably been mistaken in him? With all her +knowledge of him, had she by some strange mischance--some maddening, +some inexplicable misapprehension--failed utterly and miserably to see +this man as he really was? + +For the first time the question sprang up within her. And she found no +answer to it--only that breathless, blank dismay. + +Softly Nick's voice broke in upon her seething doubt. He had laid Olga +back upon the pillow. + +"The doctor is here. Do you mind staying with her while I go?" + +"You'll come back, Nick?" the child urged, in her painful whisper. + +"Yes, I'll come back," he promised. "Honest Injun!" + +He touched her cheek lightly at parting, and Olga caught the caressing +hand and pressed it against her burning lips. Muriel saw his face +as he turned from the bed. It was all softened and quivering with +emotion. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +AT THE GATE OF DEATH + + +In the morning they knew the worst. Olga had scarlet fever. + +The doctor imparted the news to Nick and Muriel standing outside +the door of the sick-room. Nick's reception of it was by no +means characteristic. For the first time in her life Muriel saw +consternation undisguised upon the yellow face. + +"Great Jupiter!" he said. "What a criminal ass I am!" + +At another moment she could have laughed at the tragic force of his +self-arraignment. Even as it was, she barely repressed a smile as she +set his mind at rest. She needed no explanation. It was easy enough to +follow the trend of his thoughts just then. + +"If you are thinking of me," she said, "I have had it." + +She saw his instant relief, though he merely acknowledged the +statement by a nod. + +"We must have a nurse," he said briefly. "We shall manage all right +then. I'll do my turn. Oh, stuff!" at a look from the doctor. "I +sha'n't hurt. I'm much too tough a morsel for microbes to feed on." + +Possibly the doctor shared this opinion, for he made no verbal +protest. It fell to Muriel to do this later in the day when the nurse +was installed, and she was at liberty to leave Olga's room. Nick +had just returned from the post-office whence he had been sending a +message to the child's father. She came upon him stealing up to take a +look at her. Seeing Muriel he stopped. "How is she?" + +Muriel moved away to an open window at the end of the passage before +she made reply. He followed her, and they stood together, looking out +upon the sunset. + +"The fever is very high," she said. "And she is suffering a good deal +of pain. She is not quite herself at times." + +"You mean she is worse?" He looked at her keenly. + +It was exactly what she did mean. Olga had been growing steadily worse +all day. Yet when abruptly he turned to leave her, Muriel laid a hasty +hand upon his arm. + +"Nick," she said, and her voice was almost imploring, "don't go in! +Please don't go in!" + +He stopped short. "Why not?" + +She removed her hand quickly. "It's so dangerous--besides being +unnecessary. Won't you be sensible about it?" + +He gave his head a queer upward jerk, and stood as one listening, not +looking at her. "What for?" + +She could not think of any very convincing reason for the moment. Yet +it was imperative that he should see the matter as she saw it. + +"Suppose I had not had it," she ventured, "what would you have done?" + +"Packed you off to the cottage again double quick," said Nick +promptly. + +It was the answer she had angled for. She seized upon it. "Well, tell +me why." + +He spun round on his heels and faced her. He was blinking very +rapidly. "You asked me that question once before," he said. "And out +of a sentimental consideration for your feelings--I didn't answer +it. Do you really want an answer this time, or shall I go on being +sentimentally considerate?" + +She heard the old subtle jeering note in his voice, but its effect +upon her was oddly different from what it had ever been before. It +did not anger her, nor did it wholly frighten her. It dawned upon her +suddenly that, though possibly it lay in his power to hurt her, he +would not do so. + +She answered him with composure. "I don't want you to be anything +but sensible, Nick. And it isn't sensible to expose yourself to +unnecessary risk. It's wrong." + +"That's my lookout," said Nick. + +It was indubitably; but she wanted very much to gain her point. + +"Won't you at least keep away unless she asks for you?" she urged. + +"You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me," said Nick. + +"I am not," she returned quickly. "I am not. You know it isn't that." + +"Do I?" he said quizzically. "It's one of the few things I shouldn't +have known without being told. Well, I'm sorry I can't consent to be +sensible as you call it. I am quite sure personally that there isn't +the slightest danger. It isn't so infectious at this stage, you know. +Perhaps by-and-by, when she is through the worst, I will think about +it." + +He spoke lightly, but she was aware of the anxiety that underlay the +words. She said no more, reminding herself that argument with Nick was +always futile, sometimes worse. Nevertheless she found some comfort +in the smile with which he left her. He had refused to treat with her, +but his enmity--if enmity it could be called--was no longer active. He +had proclaimed a truce which she knew he would not break. + +Olga was delirious that night, and privately Muriel was glad that she +had not been able to exclude him; for his control over the child was +wonderful. As once with a tenderness maternal he had soothed her, +so now he soothed Olga, patiently, steadfastly, even with a certain +cheeriness. It all came back to her as she watched him, the strength +of the man, his selfless devotion. + +She could see that both doctor and nurse thought very seriously of +the child. The former paid a late visit, but said very little beyond +advising her to rest if she could in an adjacent room. Both Nick and +the nurse seconded this, and, seeing there was nothing that she could +do, she gave way in the matter, lying down as she was with but small +expectation of sleep. But she was wearier than she knew, and the +slumber into which she fell was deep, and would have lasted for some +hours undisturbed. + +It was Nick who roused her, and starting up at his touch, she knew +instantly that what they had all mutely feared had drawn very near. +His face told her at a glance, for he made no effort to dissemble. + +"The nurse thinks you had better come," was all he said. + +She pushed the hair from her forehead, and turned without a word to +obey the summons. But at the door something checked her, something +cried aloud within her, bidding her pause. She stopped. Nick was close +behind her. Swiftly, obedient to the voice that cried, she stretched +out her hand to him. He gripped it fast, and she was conscious for an +instant of a curious gladness, a willingness to leave it in his hold, +that she had never experienced before. But at the door of Olga's room +he softly relinquished it, and drew back. + +Olga was lying propped on pillows, and breathing quickly. The nurse +was bending over her with a glass, but Olga's face was turned away. +She was watching the door. + +As Muriel came to her, the light eyes brightened to quick +intelligence, and the parted lips tried to speak. But no sound came +forth, and a frown of pain succeeded the effort. + +Muriel stooped swiftly and grasped the slender hand that lay clenched +upon the sheet. + +"There, darling! Don't try to talk. It hurts you so. We are both here, +Nick and I, and we understand all about it." + +It was the first time she had ever voluntarily coupled herself with +him. It came to her instinctively to do it in that moment. + +But Olga had something to say, something apparently that must be said. +With infinite difficulty she forced a husky whisper. Muriel stooped +lower to catch it, so low that her face was almost touching the face +upon the pillow. + +"Muriel," came haltingly from the parched lips, "there's something--I +want--to say to you--about Nick." + +Muriel felt the blood surging at her temples as the faint words +reached her. She would have given anything to know that he was out of +earshot. + +"Won't you say it in the morning, darling?" she said, almost with +pleading in her voice. "It's so late now." + +It was not late. It was very, very early--the solemn hour when +countless weary ones fall into their long sleep. And the moment she +had spoken, her heart smote her. Was she for her own peace of mind +trying to silence the child's last words on earth? + +"No, never mind, dear," she amended tenderly. "I am listening to you. +Tell me now." + +"Yes," panted Olga. "I must. I must. You remember--that day--with the +daisies--the day we saw--the hawk?" + +Yes, well Muriel remembered it. The thought of it went through her +like a stab. + +"Yes, dear. What of it?" she heard herself say. + +"Well, you know--I've thought since--that the daisies meant Nick, +not--not--I can't remember his name, Muriel." + +"Do you mean Captain Grange, dear?" + +"Yes, yes, of course. He was there too, wasn't he? I'm sure now--quite +sure--they didn't mean him." + +"Very likely not, dear." + +"And Muriel--do you know--Nick was just miserable--after you went. I +sort of felt he was. And late--late that night I woke up, and I crept +down to him--in the library. And he had his head down on the table--as +if--as if--he was crying. Oh, Muriel!" + +A sharp sob interrupted the piteous whisper. Muriel folded her arms +about the child, pillowing the tired head on her breast. All the fair +hair had been cut off earlier in the day. Its absence gave Olga a very +babyish appearance. + +Brokenly, with many gasping pauses, the pathetic little story came to +an end. "I went to him--and I asked him what it was. And he--he looked +up with that funny face he makes--you know--and he just said, 'Oh, +it's all right. I've been feeding on dust and ashes all day long, +that's all. And it's dry fare for a thirsty man!' He thought--I +wouldn't know what he meant. But I did, Muriel. And I always wanted +to tell you. But--somehow--you wouldn't let me. He meant you. He was +hurt--so hurt--because you weren't kind to him. Oh, Muriel, won't +you--won't you--try to be kind to him now? Please, dear, please!" + +Muriel's eyes sought Nick, and instantly a thrill of surprise and +relief shot through her. He had not heard that request of Olga's. She +doubted if he had heard anything. He was sunk in a chair well in the +background with his head on his hand, and looking at him she saw his +shoulders shake with a soundless sob. + +She looked away again with a sense of trespass. This--this was the man +who had fought and cursed and slain under her eyes--the man from whose +violence she had shrunk appalled, whose strength had made her shudder +many a time. She had never imagined that he could grieve thus--even +for his little pal Olga. + +Tenderly she turned back to the child. That single glimpse of the man +in pain had made it suddenly easy to grant her earnest prayer. + +"I won't be unkind to him again, darling," she promised softly. + +"Never any more?" insisted Olga. + +"Never any more, my darling." + +Olga made a little nestling movement against her. It was all she +wanted, and now that the effort of asking was over she was very tired. + +The nurse drew softly back into the shadow, and a deep silence fell in +the room. Through it in a long, monotonous roar there came the sound +of the sea breaking, eternally breaking, along the beach. + +No one moved. Olga's breathing was growing slower, so much slower that +there were times when Muriel, listening intently, fancied that it +had wholly ceased. She held the little slim body close in her arms, +jealously close, as though she were defying Death itself. And ever +through the stillness she could hear her own heart beating like the +hoofs of a galloping horse. + +Slowly the night began to pass. The outline of the window-frame became +visible against a faint grey glimmer. The window was open, and a +breath of the coming dawn wandered in with the fragrance of drenched +roses. A soft rain was falling. The patter of it could be heard upon +the leaves. + +Again Muriel listened for the failing breath, listened closely, +tensely, her face bent low to the fair head that lay so still upon her +breast. + +But she heard nothing--nothing but her own heart quickening, +quickening, from fear to suspense, from suspense to the anguish of +conviction. + +She lifted her face at last, and in the same instant there arose +a sudden flood of song from the sleeping garden, as the first lark +soared to meet the dawn. + +Half-dazed, she listened to that marvellous outpouring of gladness, so +wildly rapturous, so weirdly holy. On, ever on, pealed the bird-voice; +on to the very Gates of Heaven, and it seemed to the girl who +listened as though she heard a child's spirit singing up the steeps +of Paradise. With her heart she followed it till suddenly she heard +no more. The voice ceased as it had begun, ceased as a burst of music +when an open door is closed--and there fell in its stead a silence +that could be felt. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE ARMISTICE + + +She could not have said for how long she sat motionless, the slight, +inert body clasped against her breast. Vaguely she knew that the +night passed, and with it the wondrous silence that had lain like a +benediction upon the dawn. A thousand living things awoke to rejoice +in the crystal splendour of the morning; but within the quiet room the +spell remained unlifted, the silence lay untouched. It was as though +the presence of Death had turned it into a peaceful sanctuary that no +mere earthly tumult could disturb. + +She sat in a species of waking stupor for a long, long time, not +daring to move lest the peace that enfolded her should be shattered. +Higher and higher the sun climbed up the sky till at last it topped +the cedar-trees and shone in upon her, throwing a single ray of purest +gold across the foot of the bed. Fascinated, she watched it travel +slowly upwards, till a silent, one-armed figure arose and softly drew +the curtain. + +The room grew dim again. The world was shut out. She was not conscious +of physical fatigue, only of a certain weariness of waiting, waiting +for she knew not what. It seemed interminable, but she would not seek +to end it. She was as a soldier waiting for the order to quit his +post. + +There came a slight movement at last. Someone touched her, whispered +to her. She looked up blankly, and saw the nurse. But understanding +seemed to have gone from her during those long hours. She could not +take in a word. There arose a great surging in her brain, and the +woman's face faded into an indistinct blur. She sat rigid, afraid to +move lest she should fall. + +She heard vague whisperings over her head, and an arm that was like a +steel spring encircled her. Someone lifted her burden gently from her, +and a faint murmur reached her, such as a child makes in its sleep. + +Then the arm that supported her gradually raised her up till she +was on her feet. Mechanically she tried to walk, but was instantly +overcome by a sick sense of powerlessness. + +"I can't!" she gasped. "I can't!" + +Nick's voice answered her in a quick, confident whisper. "Yes, you +can, dear. It's all right. Hang on to me. I won't let you go." + +She obeyed him blindly. There was nothing else to do. And so, +half-led, half-carried, she tottered from the room. + +A glare of sunlight smote upon her from a passage-window with a +brilliance that almost hurt her. She stood still, clinging to Nick's +shoulder. + +"Oh, Nick," she faltered weakly, "why don't they--pull down the +blinds?" + +Nick turned aside, still closely holding her, into the room in which +she had rested for the earlier part of the night. + +"Because, thank God," he said, "there is no need. Olga is going to +live." + +He helped her down into an easy-chair, and would have left her; but +she clung to him still, weakly but persistently. + +"Oh, Nick, don't laugh! Tell me the truth for once! Please, Nick, +please!" + +He yielded to her so abruptly that she was half-startled, dropping +suddenly down upon his knees beside her, the morning light full upon +his face. + +"I am telling you the truth," he said. "I believe you have saved her +life. She has been sleeping ever since sunrise." + +Muriel gazed at him speechlessly; but she no longer suspected him of +trying to deceive her. If he had never told her the truth before that +moment he was telling it to her then. + +She gave a little gasping cry of relief unspeakable, and hid her face. +The next moment Nick was on his feet. She heard his quick, light step +as he crossed the threshold, and realised thankfully that he had left +her alone. + +A little later, a servant brought her a breakfast-tray with a message +from the master of the house to the effect that he hoped she would go +to bed and take a long rest. + +It was excellent advice, and she acted upon it; for since the worst +strain was over, sleep had become an urgent necessity to her. She +wondered as she lay down if Nick were following the same course. She +hoped he was, for she had a curiously vivid memory of the lines that +sleeplessness had drawn about his eyes. + +It was late afternoon when she awoke, and sat swiftly up with a +confused sense of being watched. + +"Don't jump like that!" a gruff voice said. "Lie down again at once. +You are not to get up till to-morrow morning." + +She turned with a shaky laugh of welcome to find Dr. Jim seated +frowning by her side. He laid a compelling hand upon her shoulder. + +"Lie down again, do you hear? There's nothing for you to do. Olga is +much better, and doesn't want you." + +"And Nick?" said Muriel. + +They were the first words that occurred to her. She said them +hurriedly, with heightened colour. + +Jim Ratcliffe frowned more than ever. He was feeling her pulse. "A +nice couple of idiots you are!" he grimly remarked. "You needn't worry +about Nick. He has gone for a ride. As soon as he comes back, he will +dine and go to bed." + +"Can't I get up to dinner?" Muriel suggested. + +She could scarcely have said why she made the proposal, and she was +certainly surprised when Jim Ratcliffe fell in with it. He looked at +his watch. "Well, you may if you like. You will probably sleep the +better for it. But I'll have no nonsense, mind, Muriel. You're to do +as you're told." + +Muriel smiled acquiescence. She felt that everything was right now +that Dr. Jim had returned to take the direction of affairs into his +own hands. He had come back alone, and he intended to finish his +holiday under Nick's roof. So much he told her before, with an abrupt +smile, he thanked her for her care of his little girl and took himself +off. + +She almost regretted her decision when she came to get up, for the +strain was telling upon her more than she had realised. Not since +Simla days had she felt so utterly worn out. She was glad of the cup +of tea which Dr. Jim sent in to her before she left her room. + +Sitting on the cushioned window-seat to drink it, she heard the tread +of a horse's feet along the drive, and with a start she saw Nick come +into view round a bend. + +Her first impulse was to draw back out of sight, but the next moment +she changed her mind and remained motionless. Her heart was suddenly +beating very fast. + +He was riding very carelessly, the bridle lying on the horse's neck. +The evening sun was shining full in his face, but he did not seem to +mind. His head was thrown back. He rode like a returning conqueror, +wearied it might be, but triumphant. + +Passing into the shadow of the house, he saw her instantly, and the +smile that flashed into his face was one of sheer exultation. He +dropped the bridle altogether to wave to her. + +"Up already? Have you seen old Jim?" + +She nodded. It was impossible at the moment not to reflect his smile. +"I am coming down soon," she told him. + +"Come now," said Nick persuasively. + +She hesitated. He was slipping from his horse. A groom came up and +took the animal from him. + +Nick paused below her window, and once more lifted his grinning, +confident face. + +"I say, Muriel!" + +She leaned down a little. "Well?" + +"Don't come if you don't want to, you know." + +She laughed half-reluctantly, conscious of a queer desire to please +him. Olga's words were running in her brain. He had fed on dust and +ashes. + +Yet still she hesitated. "Will you wait for me?" + +"Till doomsday," said Nick obligingly. + +And drawn by a power that would not be withstood, she went down, still +smiling, and joined him in the garden. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +THE EAGLE STRIKES + + +Olga's recovery, when the crisis of the disease was past, was more +rapid than even her father had anticipated; and this fact, combined +with a spell of glorious summer weather, made the period of her +quarantine very tedious, particularly as Nick was rigidly excluded +from the sick-room. + +At Olga's earnest request Muriel consented to remain at Redlands. +Daisy had written to postpone her own return to the cottage, having +received two or three invitations which she wished to accept if Muriel +could still spare her. + +Blake was in Scotland. His letters were not very frequent, and though +his leave was nearly up, he did not speak of returning. + +Muriel was thus thrown upon Jim Ratcliffe's care--a state of affairs +which seemed to please him mightily. It was in fact his presence that +made life easy for her just then. She saw considerably more of him +than of Nick, the latter having completely relegated the duties of +host to his brother. Though they met every day, they were seldom alone +together, and she began to have a feeling that Nick's attitude towards +her had undergone a change. His manner was now always friendly, but +never intimate. He did not seek her society, but neither did he avoid +her. And never by word or gesture did he refer to anything that had +been between them in the past. She even wondered sometimes if there +might not possibly have been another interpretation to Olga's story. +That unwonted depression of his that the child had witnessed had +surely never been inspired by her. + +She found the time pass quickly enough during those six weeks. The +care of Olga occupied her very fully. She was always busy devising +some new scheme for her amusement. + +Mrs. Ratcliffe returned to Weir, and Dr. Jim determined to transfer +Olga to her home as soon as she was out of quarantine. With paternal +kindliness, he insisted that Muriel must accompany her. Daisy's return +was still uncertain, though it could not be long delayed; and Muriel +had no urgent desire to return to the lonely life on the shore. + +So, to Olga's outspoken delight, she yielded to the doctor's +persuasion, and on the afternoon preceding the child's emancipation +from her long imprisonment she walked down to the cottage to pack her +things. + +It was a golden day in the middle of September and she lingered awhile +on the shore when her work was done. There was not a wave in all the +vast, shimmering sea. The tide was going out, and the shallow ripples +were clear as glass as they ran out along the white beach. Muriel +paused often in her walk. She was sorry to leave the little +fishing-village, realising that she had been very happy there. Life +had passed as smoothly as a dream of late, so smoothly that she had +been content to live in the present with scarcely a thought for the +future. + +This afternoon she had begun to realise that her peaceful time was +drawing to an end. In a few weeks more, she would be in town in all +the bustle of preparation. And further still ahead of her--possibly +two months--there loomed the prospect of her return to India, of Lady +Bassett's soft patronage, of her marriage. + +She shivered a little as one after another these coming events +presented themselves. There was not one of them that she would not +have postponed with relief. She stood still with her face to the +sunlit sea, and told herself that her summer in England had been all +too short. She had an almost passionate longing for just one more year +of home. + +A pebble skimming past her and leaping from ripple to ripple like, a +living thing caught her attention. She turned sharply, and the next +moment smiled a welcome. + +Nick had come up behind her unperceived. She greeted him with pleasure +unfeigned. She was tired of her own morbid thoughts just then. +Whatever he might be, he was at least never depressing. + +"I'm saying good-bye," she told him. "I don't suppose I shall ever +come here again." + +He came and stood beside her while he grubbed in the sand with a +stick. + +"Not even to see me?" he suggested. + +"Are you going to live here?" she asked in surprise. + +"Oh, I suppose so," said Nick, "when I marry." + +"Are you going to be married?" Almost in spite of her the question +leapt out. + +He looked up, grinning shrewdly. "I put it to you," he said. "Am I the +sort of man to live alone?" + +She experienced a curious sense of relief. "But you are not alone in +the world," she pointed out. "You have relations." + +"You regard marriage as a last resource?" questioned Nick. + +She coloured and turned her face to the shore. "I don't think any man +ought to marry unless--unless--he cares," she said, striving hard to +keep the personal note out of her voice. + +"Exactly," said Nick, moving beside her. "But doesn't that remark +apply to women as well?" + +She did not answer him. A discussion on this topic was the last thing +she desired. + +He did not press the point, and she wondered a little at his +forbearance. She glanced at him once or twice as they walked, but his +humorous, yellow face told her nothing. + +Reaching some rocks, he suddenly stopped. "I've got to get some +seaweed for Olga. Do you mind waiting?" + +"I will help you," she answered. + +He shook his head. "No, you are tired. Just sit down in the sun. I +won't be long." + +She seated herself without protest, and he turned to leave her. A few +paces from her he paused, and she saw that he was trying to light a +cigarette. He failed twice, and impulsively she sprang up. + +"Nick, why don't you ask me to help you?" + +He whizzed round. "Perhaps I don't want you to," he said quizzically. + +She took the match-box from him. "Don't be absurd! Why shouldn't I?" +She struck a match and held it out to him. But he did not take it +from her. He took her wrist instead, and stooping forward lighted his +cigarette deliberately. + +She did not look at him. Some instinct warned her that his eyes were +intently searching her face. She seemed to feel them darting over her +in piercing, impenetrable scrutiny. + +He released her slowly at length and stood up. "Am I to have the +pleasure of dancing at your wedding?" he asked her suddenly. + +She looked up then very sharply, and against her will a burning blush +rose up to her temples. He waited for her answer, and at last it came. + +"If you think it worth your while." + +"I would come from the other side of the world to see you made happy," +said Nick. + +She turned her face aside. "You are very kind." + +"Think so?" There was a note of banter in his voice. "It's the first +time you ever accused me of that." + +She made no rejoinder. She had a feeling at the throat that prevented +speech, even had she had any words to utter. Certainly, as he had +discovered, she was very tired. It was physical weariness, no doubt, +but she had an almost overmastering desire to shed childish tears. + +"You trot back now," said Nick cheerily. "I can grub along quite well +by myself." + +She turned back silently. Why was it that the world seemed so grey +and cold on that golden summer afternoon? She sat down again in the +sunshine, and began to trace an aimless design in the sand with the +stick Nick had left behind. Away in the distance she heard his cracked +voice humming. Was he really as cheerful as he seemed, she wondered? +Or was he merely making the best of things? + +Again her thoughts went back to Olga's pathetic little revelation. +Strange that she who knew him so intimately should never have seen him +in such a mood! But did she know him after all? It was a question +she had asked herself many times of late. She remembered how he had +lightly told her that he had a reverse side. But had she ever really +seen it, save for those brief glimpses by Olga's bedside, and as it +was reflected in the child's whole-souled devotion to him? She wished +with all her heart that he would lift the veil just once for her and +show her his inner soul. + +Again her thoughts passed to her approaching marriage. She had +received a letter from Blake that day, telling her at length of his +plans. He and Daisy had been staying in the same house, but he was +just returning to town. He was to sail in less than a fortnight, and +would come and say good-bye to her immediately before his departure. +The letter had been courteously kind throughout, but she had not felt +tempted to read it again. It contained no reference to their wedding, +save such as she chose to attribute to the concluding sentence: "We +can talk everything over when we meet." A sense of chill struck +her when she recalled the words. He was very kind, of course, and +invariably meant well; but she had begun to realise of late that there +were times when she found him a little heavy and unresponsive. Not +that she had ever desired any demonstration of tenderness from him, +heaven knew. But the very consciousness that she had not desired this +added to the chill. She was not quite sure that she wanted to see him +again before he sailed. Certainly he had never bored her; but it was +not inconceivable that he might do so. She shivered ever so slightly. +It was not an exciting prospect--life with Blake. He was quite sure to +be kind to her. He would consider her in every way. But was that after +all quite all she wanted? A great sigh welled suddenly up from the +bottom of her heart. Life was ineffably dreary--when it was not +revoltingly horrible. + +"Shall I tell you what is the matter?" said Nick. + +She started violently, and found him leaning across the flat rock +on which she was seated. His eyes were remarkably bright. She had a +feeling that he suppressed a laugh as his look flickered over her. + +"Sorry I made you jump," he said. "You ought to be used to me by this +time. Anyhow you needn't be frightened. My venom was extracted long +ago." + +She turned to him with sudden, unconsidered impulse. "Oh, Nick," she +said, "I sometimes think to myself I've been a great fool." + +He nodded. Her vehemence did not seem to surprise him. "I thought it +would strike you sooner or later," he said. + +She laughed in spite of herself with her eyes full of tears. "There's +not much comfort in that." + +"I haven't any comfort to give you," said Nick, "not at this stage. +I'll give you advice if you like--which I know you won't take." + +"No, please don't! That would be even worse." There was a tremor in +her voice. She knew that she had stepped off the beaten track; but she +had an intense, an almost passionate longing to go a little further, +to penetrate, if only for a moment, that perpetual mask. + +"Don't let us talk of my affairs," she said. "Tell me of your own. +What are you going to do?" + +Nick's eyebrows went up. "I thought I was coming to your wedding," he +remarked. "That's as far as I've got at present." + +She made a gesture of impatience. "Do you never think of the future?" + +"Not in your presence," laughed Nick. "I think of you--you--and only +you. Didn't you know?" + +She turned away in silence. Was he tormenting her deliberately? Or did +he fail to see that she was in earnest? + +There followed a pause, and then, urged by that unknown impulse that +would not be repressed, she did a curious thing. She got up, and, +facing him, she made a very earnest appeal. + +"Nick, why do you always treat me like this? Why will you never be +honest with me?" + +There was more of pain than reproach in the words. Her voice was deep +and very sad. + +But Nick scarcely looked at her. He was pulling tufts of dried seaweed +off the rock on which he leaned. + +"My dear girl," he said, "how can you expect it?" + +"Expect it!" she echoed. "I don't understand. What do you mean?" + +He drew himself slowly to a sitting posture. "How can I be honest with +you," he said, "when you are not honest with yourself?" + +"What do you mean?" she said again. + +He gave her an odd look. "You really want me to tell you?" + +"Of course I do." She spoke sharply. The old scared feeling was awake +within her, but she would not yield to it. Now or never would she read +the enigma. She would know the truth, cost what it might. + +"What I mean is this," said Nick. "You won't own it, of course, but +you are cheating, and you are afraid to stop. There isn't one woman in +ten thousand who has the pluck to throw down the cards when once she +has begun to cheat. She goes on--as you will go on--to the end of her +life, simply because she daren't do otherwise. You are out of the +straight, Muriel. That's why everything is such a hideous failure. You +are going to marry the wrong man, and you know it." + +He looked up at her again for an instant as he said it. He had spoken +with his usual shrewd decision, but there was no hint of excitement +about him. He might have been discussing some matter of a purely +impersonal nature. + +Muriel stood mutely poking holes in the sand. She could find nothing +to say to this matter-of-fact indictment. + +"And now," Nick proceeded, "I will tell you why you are doing it." + +She started at that, and looked up with flaming cheeks. "I don't think +I want to hear any more, Nick. It--it's rather late in the day, isn't +it?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. "I knew you would be afraid to face it. +It's easier, isn't it, to go on cheating?" + +Her eyes gleamed for a moment. He had flicked a tender place. +"Very well," she said proudly. "Say what you like. It will make no +difference. But please understand that I admit none of this." + +Nick's grin leapt goblin-like across his face and was gone. "I never +expected it of you," he told her coolly. "You would sooner die than +admit it, simply because it would be infinitely easier for you to die. +You will be false to yourself, false to Grange, false to me, rather +than lower that miserable little rag of pride that made you jilt me +at Simla. I didn't blame you so much then. You were only a child. +You didn't understand. But that excuse won't serve you now. You are a +woman, and you know what Love is. You don't call it by its name, but +none the less you know it." + +He paused for an instant, for Muriel had made a swift gesture of +protest. + +"I don't think you know what you are saying," she said, her voice very +low. + +He sprang abruptly to his feet. "Yes," he said, speaking very rapidly. +"That's how you will trick yourself to your dying day. It's a way +women have. But it doesn't help them. It won't help you. For that +thing in your heart--the thing that is fighting for air--the thing +you won't own--the thing that drove you to Grange for protection--will +never die. That is why you are miserable. You may do what you will to +it, hide it, smother it, trample it. But it will survive for all that. +All your life it will be there. You will never forget it though you +will try to persuade yourself that it belongs to a dead past. All your +life,"--his voice vibrated suddenly, and the ever-shifting eyes blazed +into leaping flame--"all your life, you will remember that I was once +yours to take or to throw away. And--you wanted me, yet--you chose to +throw me away." + +Fiercely he flung the words at her. There was nothing impersonal +about him now. He was vitally, overwhelmingly, in earnest. A deep +glow covered the parchment face. The man was as it were electrified by +passion. + +And Muriel gazed at him as one gazing upon sudden disaster. What was +this, what was this, that he had said to her? He had rent the veil +aside for her indeed. But to what dread vision had he opened her eyes? + +The old paralysing fear was knocking at her heart. She dreaded each +instant to see the devil leap out upon his face. But as the seconds +passed she realised that he was still his own master. He had flung +down the gauntlet, but he would go no further, unless she took it up. +And this she could not do. She knew that she was no match for him. + +He was watching her narrowly, she knew, and after a few palpitating +moments she nerved herself to meet his look. She felt as if it +scorched her, but she would not shrink. Not for a moment must he fancy +that those monstrous words of his had pierced her quivering heart. +Whatever happened later, when this stunned sense of shock had left +her, she must not seem to take them seriously now, with his watching +eyes upon her. + +And so at last she lifted her head and faced him with a little +quivering laugh, brave enough in itself, but how piteous she never +guessed. + +"I don't think you are quite so clever as you used to be, Nick," she +told him, "though I admit,"--her lips trembled--"that you are very +amusing sometimes. Blake once told me that you had the eyes of a +snake-charmer. Is it true, I wonder? Anyhow, they don't charm me." + +She stopped rather breathlessly, half-frightened by his stillness. +Would he understand that it was not her intention to defy him--that +she was only refusing the conflict? + +For a few moments her heart beat tumultuously, and then came a great +throb of relief. Yes, he understood. She had nought to fear. + +He put his hand sharply over his eyes, turning from her. "I have never +tried to charm you," he said, in a voice that sounded curiously choked +and unfamiliar. "I have only--loved you." + +In the silence that followed, he began to walk away from her, moving +noiselessly over the sand. + +Mutely she watched him, but she dared not call him back. And very soon +she was quite alone. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +THE PENALTY FOR SENTIMENT + + +It did not take Dr. Jim long to discover that some trouble or at the +least some perplexity was weighing upon his young guest's mind. He +also shrewdly remarked that it dated from the commencement of +her visit at his house. No one else noticed it, but this was not +surprising. There was always plenty to occupy the attention in the +Ratcliffe household, and only Dr. Jim managed to keep a sharp eye upon +every member thereof. Moreover, by a casual observer, there was little +or nothing that was unusual to be detected in Muriel's manner. Quiet +she certainly was, but she was by no means listless. Her laugh did not +always ring quite true, that was all. And her eyes drooped a little +wearily from time to time. There were other symptoms, very slight, +wholly imperceptible to any but a trained eye, yet not one of which +escaped Dr. Jim. + +He made no comment, but throughout that first week of her stay he +watched her unperceived, biding his time. During several motor rides +on which she accompanied him he maintained this attitude while she sat +all unsuspecting by his side. She had never detected any subtlety in +this staunch friend of hers, and, unlike Daisy, she felt no fear of +him. His blunt sincerity had never managed to wound her. + +And so it was almost inevitable that she should give him his +opportunity at last. + +Late one evening she entered his consulting-room where he was busy +writing. + +"I want to talk to you," she said. "Is it very inconvenient?" + +The doctor leaned back in his chair. "Sit down there," he said, +pointing to one immediately facing him. + +She laughed and obeyed, faintly blushing. "I'm not a patient, you +know." + +He drew his black brows together. "It's very late. Why don't you go to +bed?" + +"Because I want to talk to you." + +"You can do that to-morrow," bluntly rejoined Dr. Jim. "You can't +afford to sacrifice your sleep to chatter." + +"I am not sacrificing any sleep," Muriel told him rather wearily. "I +never sleep before morning." + +He laid down his pen and gave her one of his hard looks. "Then you are +a very silly girl," he said curtly at length. + +"It isn't my fault," she protested. + +He shrugged his shoulders. "You all say that. It's the most ordinary +lie I know." + +Muriel smiled. "I know you are longing to give me something nasty. You +may if you like. I'll take it, whatever it is." + +Dr. Jim was silent for a space. He continued to regard her steadily, +with a scrutiny that spared her nothing. She sat quite still under it. +He had never disconcerted her yet. But when he leaned suddenly forward +and took her wrist between his fingers, she made a slight, instinctive +effort to frustrate him. + +"Be still," he ordered. "What makes you so absurdly nervous? Want of +sleep, eh?" + +Her lips trembled a little. "Don't probe too deep, doctor," she +pleaded. "I am not very happy just now." + +"Why don't you tell me what is the matter?" he asked gruffly. + +She did not answer, and he continued frowning over her pulse. + + +"What do you want to talk to me about?" he asked at last. + +She looked up with an effort. "Oh, nothing much. Only a letter from +a Mrs. Langdale who lives in town. She is going to India in November, +and says she will take charge of me if I care to go with her. She has +invited me to go and stay with her beforehand." + +"Well?" said Jim, as she paused. + +"I don't want to go," she said. "Do you think I ought? She is Lady +Bassett's sister." + +"I think it would probably do you good, if that's what you mean," he +returned. "But I don't suppose that consideration has much weight with +you. Why don't you want to go?" + +"I don't like strangers, and I hate Lady Bassett," Muriel answered, +with absolute simplicity. "Then there is Daisy. I don't know what her +plans are. I always thought we should go East together." + +"There's no sense in waiting for Daisy's plans to develop," declared +Jim. "She is as changeable as the wind. Possibly Nick will be able to +make up her mind for her. I fancy he means to try." + +"Nick! You don't mean he will travel with Daisy?" There was almost a +tragic note in Muriel's voice. She looked up quickly into the shrewd +eyes that watched her. + +"Why shouldn't he?" said Jim. + +"I don't know. I never thought of it." Muriel leaned back again, a +faint frown of perplexity between her eyes. "Perhaps," she said slowly +at length, "I had better go to Mrs. Langdale." + +"I should in your place," said Jim. "That handsome soldier of yours +won't want to be kept waiting, eh?" + +"Oh, he wouldn't mind." The weariness was apparent again in her voice, +and with it a tinge of bitterness. "He never minds anything," she +said. + +Jim grunted disapproval. "And you? Are you equally indifferent?" + +Her pale face flushed vividly. She was silent a moment; then suddenly +she sat up and met his look fully. + +"You'll think me contemptible, I know," she said, a great quiver in +her voice. "I can't help it; you must. Dr. Jim, I'll tell you the +truth. I--I don't want to go to India. I don't want to be married--at +all." + +She ended with a swift rush of irrepressible tears. It was out at +last, this trouble of hers that had been gradually growing behind the +barrier of her reserve, and it seemed to burst over her in the telling +in a great wave of adversity. + +"I've done nothing but make mistakes," she sobbed "ever since Daddy +died." + +Dr. Jim got up quietly to lock the door. The grimness had passed from +his face. + +"My dear," he said gruffly, "we all of us make mistakes directly we +begin to run alone." + +He returned and sat down again close to her, waiting for her to +recover herself. She slipped out a trembling hand to him, and he took +it very kindly; but he said no more until she spoke. + +"It's very difficult to know what to do." + +"Is it? I should have said you were past that stage." His tone was +uncompromising, but the warm grip of his hand made up for it. His +directness did not dismay her. "If you are quite sure you don't care +for the fellow, your duty is quite plain." + +Muriel raised her head slowly. "Yes, but it isn't quite so simple as +that, doctor. You see, it's not as if--as if--we either of us ever +imagined we were--in love with each other." + +Jim's eyebrows went up. "As bad as that?" + +She leaned her chin on her hand. "I am sure there must be crowds of +people who marry without ever being in love." + +"Yes," said Jim curtly. "And kindle their own hell in doing it." + +She started a little. "You think that?" + +"I know it. I have seen it over and over again. Full half of the +world's misery is due to it. But you won't do that, Muriel. I know you +too well." + +Muriel glanced up at him. "Do you know me? I don't think you would +have expected me to accept him in the first place." + +"Depends what you did it for," said Jim. + +She fell suddenly silent, slowly twisting the ring on her finger. "He +knew why," she said at last in a very low voice. "In fact--in fact he +asked me for that reason." + +"And the reason still exists?" + +She bent her head. "Yes." + +"A reason you are ashamed of?" pursued the doctor. + +She did not answer, and he drew his great brows together in deep +thought. + +"You don't propose to take me any further into your confidence?" he +asked at last. + +She made a quick, impulsive movement. "You--you--I think you know." + +"Will you let me tell you what I know?" he said. + +She shrank perceptibly. "If--if you won't make it too hard for me." + +"I can't answer for that," he returned. "It depends entirely upon +yourself. My knowledge does not amount to anything very staggering +in itself. It is only this--that I know a certain person who would +cheerfully sacrifice all he has to make you happy, and that you have +no more cause to fear persecution from that person than from the man +in the moon." + +He paused; but Muriel did not speak. She was still absently turning +her engagement ring round and round. + +"To verify this," he said, "I will tell you something which I am sure +you don't know--which in fact puzzled me, too, considerably, for +some time. He has already sacrificed more than most men would care to +venture in a doubtful cause. It was no part of his plan to follow you +to England. He set his face against it so strongly that he very nearly +ended his mortal career for good and all in so doing. As it was, he +suffered for his lunacy pretty heavily. You know what happened. He was +forced to come in the end, and he paid the forfeit for his delay." + +Again he paused, for Muriel had sprung upright with such tragedy in +her eyes that he knew he had said enough. The next moment she was on +her feet, quivering all over as one grievously wounded. + +"Oh, do you know what you are saying?" she said, and in her voice +there throbbed the cry of a woman's wrung heart. "Surely--surely he +never did that--for me!" + +He did not seem to notice her agitation. "It was a fairly big price +to pay for a piece of foolish sentiment, eh?" he said. "Let us hope he +will know better next time." + +He looked up at her with a faintly cynical smile, but she was standing +with her face averted. He saw only that her chin was quivering like a +hurt child's. + +"Come," he said at length. "I didn't tell you this to distress you, +you know. Only to set your mind at rest, so that you might sleep +easy." + +She mastered herself with an effort, and turned towards him. "I know; +yes, I know. You--you have been very kind. Good-night, doctor." + +He rose and went with her to the door. "You are not going to lie awake +over this?" + +She shook her head. "Good-night," she said again. + +He watched her down the passage, and then returned to his writing. +He smiled to himself as he sat down, but this time wholly without +cynicism. + +"No, Nick, my boy," he said, as he drove his pen into the ink. "She +won't lie awake for you. But she'll cry herself to sleep for your +sake, you gibbering, one-armed ape. And the new love will be the old +love before the week is out, or I am no weather prophet." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +THE WATCHER OF THE CLIFF + + +The gale that raged along the British coasts that autumn was the +wildest that had been known for years. It swelled quite suddenly out +of the last breezes of a superb summer, and by the middle of September +it had become a monster of destruction, devastating the shore. The +crumbling cliffs of Brethaven testified to its violence. Beating +rain and colossal, shattering waves united to accomplish ruin and +destruction. And the little fishing-village looked on aghast. + +It was on the third day of the storm that news was brought to Nick +of a landslip on his own estate. He had been in town ever since his +guests' departure, and had only returned on the previous evening. He +did not contemplate a long stay. The place was lonely without Olga, +and he was not yet sufficiently proficient in shooting with one arm to +enjoy the sport, especially in solitude. He was in fact simply waiting +for an opportunity which he was convinced must occur before long, of +keeping a certain promise made to a friend of his on a night of early +summer in the Indian Plains. + +It was a wild day of drifting squalls and transient gleams of +sunshine. He grimaced to himself as he sauntered forth after luncheon +to view the damage that had been wrought upon his property. The ground +he trod was sodden with long rain, and the cedars beyond the lawn +plunged heavily to and fro in melancholy unrest, flinging great drops +upon him as he passed. The force of the gale was terrific, and he had +to bend himself nearly double to meet it. + +With difficulty he forced his way to the little summer-house that +overlooked the shore. He marvelled somewhat to find it still standing, +but it was sturdily built and would probably endure as long as the +ground beneath it remained unshaken. + +But beyond it a great gap yawned. The daisy-covered space on which +they had sat that afternoon, now many weeks ago, had disappeared. +Nothing of it remained but a crumbling desolation to which the daisies +still clung here and there. + +Nick stood in such shelter as the summer-house afforded, and looked +forth upon the heaving waste of waters. The tide was rising. He +could see the great waves swirling white around the rocks. Several +land-slips were visible from this post of observation. The village was +out of sight, tucked away behind a great shoulder of cliff; but an old +ruined cottage that had been uninhabited for some time had entirely +disappeared. Stacks of seaweed had been thrown up upon the deserted +shore, and lay in great masses above the breakers. The roar of the +incoming tide was like the continuous roll of thunder. + +It was a splendid spectacle and for some time he stood, with his face +to the driving wind, gazing out upon the empty sea. There was not a +single vessel in all that wide expanse. + +Slowly at last his vision narrowed. His eyes came down to the great +gash at his feet where red earth and tufts of grass mingled, where +the daisies had grown on that June day, where she had sat, proud and +aloof, and watched him fooling with the white petals. Very vividly +he recalled that summer afternoon, her scorn of him, her bitter +hostility--and the horror he had surprised in her dark eyes when the +hawk had struck. He laughed oddly to himself, his teeth clenched upon +his lower lip. How furiously she had hated him that day! + +He turned to go; but paused, arrested by some instinct that bade +him cast one more look downwards along the howling shore. In another +moment he was lying full length upon the rotten ground, staring +intently down upon the group of rocks more than two hundred feet below +him. + +Two figures--a man and a woman--had detached themselves from the +shelter of these rocks, and were moving slowly, very slowly, towards +the path that led inwards from the shore. They were closely linked +together, so much his first glance told him. But there was something +in the man's gait that caught the eye and upon which Nick's whole +attention was instantly focussed. He could not see the face, but +the loose-slung, gigantic limbs were familiar to him. With all his +knowledge of the world of men, he had not seen many such. + +Slowly the two approached till they stood almost immediately beneath +him, and there, as upon mutual impulse, they stopped. It was a corner +protected from the driving blast by the crumbling mass of cliff that +had slipped in the night. The rain was falling heavily again, but +neither the two on the shore nor the solitary watcher stretched on the +perilous edge of the cliff seemed aware of it. All were intent upon +other things. + +Suddenly the woman raised her face, and with a movement that was +passionate reached up her arms and clasped them about the man's bent +neck. She was speaking, but no sound or echo of words was audible +in that tumult. Only her face lifted to the beating rain, with its +passion of love, its anguish of pain, told the motionless spectator +something of their significance. + +It was hidden from him almost at once by the man's massive head; but +he had seen enough, more than enough, to verify a certain suspicion +which had long been quartered at the back of his brain. + +Stealthily he drew himself back from the cliff edge, and sat up on the +damp grass. Again his eyes swept the horizon; there was something of a +glare in them. He was drenched through and through by the rain, but +he did not know it. Had Muriel seen him at that moment she might have +likened him with a shudder to an eagle that viewed its quarry from +afar. + +He returned to the house without further lingering, and spent the two +hours that followed in prowling ceaselessly up and down his library. + +At the end of that time he sat down suddenly at the writing-table, and +scrawled a hasty note. His face, as he did so, was like the face of an +old man, but without the tolerance of age. + +Finishing, he rang for his servant. "Take this note," he said, "and +ask at the Brethaven Arms if a gentleman named Captain Grange is +putting up there. If he is, send in the note, and wait for an answer. +If he is not, bring it back." + +The man departed, and Nick resumed his prowling. It seemed that he +could not rest. Once he went to the window and opened it to listen to +the long roar of the sea, but the fury of the blast was such that +he could scarcely stand against it. He shut it out, and resumed his +tramp. + +The return of his messenger brought him to a standstill. + +"Captain Grange was there, sir. Here is his answer." + +Nick grabbed the note with a gesture that might have indicated either +impatience or relief. He held the envelope between his teeth to slit +it open, and they left a deep mark upon it. + + "Dear Ratcliffe," he read. "If I can get to you through this + murderous storm, I will. Expect me at eight o'clock.--Yours, + B. Grange." + +"All right," said Nick over his shoulder. "Captain Grange will dine +with me." + +With the words he dropped the note into the fire, and then went away +to dress. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX + +BY SINGLE COMBAT + + +By eight o'clock Nick was lounging in the hall, awaiting his guest, +but it was more than a quarter of an hour later that the latter +presented himself. + +Nick himself admitted him with a cheery grin. "Come in," he said. +"You've had a pretty filthy walk." + +"Infernal," said Grange gloomily. + +He entered with a heavy, rather bullied air, as if he had come against +his will. Shaking hands with his host, he glanced at him somewhat +suspiciously. + +"Glad you managed to come," said Nick hospitably. + +"What did you want to see me for?" asked Grange. + +"The pleasure of your society, of course." Nick's benignity was +unassailable, but there was a sharp edge to it somewhere of which +Grange was uneasily aware. "Come along and dine. We can talk +afterwards." + +Grange accompanied him moodily to the dining-room. "I thought you were +away," he remarked, as they sat down. + +"I was," said Nick. "Came back last night. When do you sail?" + +"On Friday. I came down to say good-bye." + +"Muriel is at Weir," observed Nick. + +"Yes. I shall go on there to-morrow. Daisy is only here for a night or +two to pack up her things." + +"And then?" said Nick. + +Grange stiffened perceptibly. "I don't know what her plans are. She +never makes up her mind till the last minute." + +Nick laughed. "She evidently hasn't taken you into her confidence. She +is going East this winter." + +Grange looked up sharply. "I don't believe it." + +"It's true all the same," said Nick indifferently, and forthwith +forsook the subject. + +He started other topics, racing, polo, politics, airily ignoring his +guest's undeniable surliness, till at last Grange's uneasiness began +to wear away. He gradually overcame his depression, and had even +managed to capture some of his customary courtesy before the end of +dinner. His attitude was quite friendly when they finally adjourned to +the library to smoke. + +Nick followed him into the room and stopped to shut the door. + +Grange had gone straight to the fire, and he did not see him slip +something into his pocket as he came forward. + +But he did after several minutes of abstraction discover something not +quite normal in Nick's silence, and glanced down at him to ascertain +what it was. + +Nick had flung himself into a deep easy-chair, and was lying quite +motionless with his head back upon the cushion. His eyes were closed. +He had been smoking when he entered, but he had dropped his cigar half +consumed into an ash-tray. + +Grange looked at him with renewed uneasiness, and looked away again. +He could not help feeling that there was some moral tension somewhere; +but he had never possessed a keen perception, he could not have said +wherein it lay. + +He retired into his shell once more and sat down facing his host in +silence that had become dogged. + +Suddenly, without moving, Nick spoke. + +His words were slightly more deliberate than usual, very even, very +distinct. "To come to the point," he said. "I saw you on the shore +this afternoon--you and Mrs. Musgrave." + +"What?" Grange gave a great start and stared across at him, gripping +the arms of his chair. + +Nick's face, however, remained quite expressionless. "I saw you," he +repeated. + +With an effort Grange recovered himself. "Did you though? I wondered +how you knew I was down here. Where were you?" + +There was an abrupt tremor behind Nick's eyelids, but they remained +closed. "I was on the top of the cliff, on my own ground, watching +you." + +Dead silence followed his answer--a silence through which the sound of +the sea half a mile away swelled terribly, like the roar of a monster +in torment. + +Then at last Nick's eyes opened. He looked Grange straight in the +face. "What are you going to do?" he said. + +Grange's hands dropped heavily from the chair-arms, and his whole +great frame drooped slowly forward. He made no further attempt at +evasion, realising the utter futility of such a course. + +"Do!" he said wearily. "Nothing." + +"Nothing?" said Nick swiftly. + +"No, nothing," he repeated, staring with a dull intentness at the +ground between his feet. "It's an old story, and the less said about +it the better. I can't discuss it with you or any one. I think it was +a pity you took the trouble to watch me this afternoon." + +He spoke with a certain dignity, albeit he refused to meet Nick's +eyes. He looked unutterably tired. + +Nick lay quite motionless in his chair, inscrutably still, save for +the restless glitter behind his colourless eyelashes. At length, "Do +you remember a conversation we had in this room a few months ago?" he +asked. + +Grange shook his head slightly, too engrossed with his miserable +thoughts to pay much attention. + +"Well, think!" Nick said insistently. "It had to do with your +engagement to Muriel Roscoe. Perhaps you have forgotten that too?" + +Grange looked up then, shaking off his lethargy with a visible effort. +He got slowly to his feet, and drew himself up to his full giant +height. + +"No," he said, "I have not forgotten it." + +"Then," said Nick, "once more--what are you going to do?" + +Grange's face darkened. He seemed to hesitate upon the verge of +vehement speech. But he restrained himself though the hot blood +mounted to his temples. + +"I have never yet broken my word to a woman," he said. "I am not going +to begin now." + +"Why not?" said Nick, with a grin that was somehow fiendish. + +Grange ignored the gibe. "There is no reason why I should not marry +her," he said. + +"No reason!" Nick's eyes flashed upwards for an instant, and a curious +sense of insecurity stabbed Grange. + +Nevertheless he made unfaltering reply. "No reason whatever." + +Nick sat up slowly and regarded him with minute attention. "Are you +serious?" he asked finally. + +"I am absolutely serious," Grange told him sternly. "And I warn you, +Ratcliffe, this is not a subject upon which I will bear interference." + +"Man alive!" jeered Nick. "You must think I'm damned easily scared." + +He got up with the words, jerking his meagre body upright with a +slight, fierce movement, and stood in front of Grange, arrogantly +daring. + +"Now just listen to this," he said. "I don't care a damn how you take +it, so you may as well take it quietly. It's no concern of mine to +know how you have whitewashed this thing over and made it look +clean and decent--and honourable--to your fastidious eye. What I am +concerned in is to prevent Muriel Roscoe making an unworthy marriage. +And that I mean to do. I told you in the summer that she should be no +man's second best, and, by Heaven, she never shall. I had my doubts +of you then. I know you now. And--I swear by all things sacred that I +will see you dead sooner than married to her." + +He broke off for a moment as though to get a firmer grip upon +himself. His face was terrible, his body tense as though controlled by +tight-strung wires. + +Before Grange could speak, he went on rapidly, with a resolution more +deadly if less passionate than before. + +"If either of you had ever cared, it might have been a different +matter. But you never did. I knew that you never did. I never troubled +to find out your reason for proposing to her. No doubt it was strictly +honourable. But I always knew why she accepted you. Did you know that, +I wonder?" + +"Yes, I did." Grange's voice was deep and savage. He glowered down +upon him in rising fury. "It was to escape you." + +Nick's eyes flamed back like the eyes of a crouching beast. He uttered +a sudden, dreadful laugh. "Yes--to escape me," he said, "to escape me! +And it has fallen to me to deliver her from her chivalrous protector. +If you look all round that, you may see something funny in it." + +"Funny!" burst forth Grange, letting himself go at last. "It's what +you have been playing for all along, you infernal mountebank! But you +have overreached yourself this time. For that very reason I will never +give her up." + +He swung past Nick with the words, goaded past endurance, desperately +aware that he could not trust himself within arm's length of that +gibing, devilish countenance. + +He reached the door and seized the handle, wrenched furiously for a +few seconds, then flung violently round. + +"Ratcliffe," he exclaimed, "for your own sake I advise you not to keep +me here!" + +But Nick had remained with his face to the fire. He did not so much +as glance over his shoulder. He had suddenly grown intensely quiet. "I +haven't quite done with you," he said. "There is just one thing more I +have to say." + +Grange was already striding back like an enraged bull, but something +in the voice or attitude of the man who leaned against the mantelpiece +without troubling to face him, brought him up short. + +Against his will he halted. "Well?" he demanded. + +"It's only this," said Nick. "You know as well as I do that I possess +the means to prevent your marriage to Muriel Roscoe, and I shall +certainly use that means unless you give her up of your own accord. +You see what it would involve, don't you? The sacrifice of your +precious honour--and not yours only." + +He paused as if to allow full vent to Grange's anger, but still he did +not change his position. + +"You damned cur!" said Grange, his voice hoarse with concentrated +passion. + +Nick took up his tale as if he had not heard. "But, on the other hand, +if you will write and set her free now, at once--I don't care how you +do it; you can tell any likely lie that occurs to you--I on my part +will swear to you that I will give her up entirely, that I will never +plague her again, will never write to her or attempt in any way to +influence her life, unless she on her own initiative makes it quite +clear that she desires me to do so." + +He ceased, and there fell a dead silence, broken only by the lashing +rain upon the windows and the long, deep roar of the sea. He seemed to +be listening to them with bent head, but in reality he heard nothing +at all. He had made the final sacrifice for the sake of the woman he +loved. To secure her happiness, her peace of mind, he had turned his +face to the desert, at last, and into it he would go, empty, beaten, +crippled, to return no more for ever. + +Across the lengthening silence Grange's voice came to him. There was a +certain hesitation in it as though he were not altogether sure of his +ground. + +"I am to take your word for all that?" + +Nick turned swiftly round. "You can do as you choose. I have nothing +else to offer you." + +Grange abandoned the point abruptly, feeling as a man who has lost his +footing in a steep place and is powerless to climb back. Perhaps even +he was vaguely conscious of something colossal hidden away behind that +baffling, wrinkled mask. + +"Very well," he said, with that dogged dignity in which Englishmen +clothe themselves in the face of defeat. "Then you will take my word +to set her free." + +"To-night?" said Nick. + +"To-night." + +There was another pause. Then Nick crossed to the door and unlocked +it. + +"I will take your word," he said. + +A few seconds later, when Grange had gone, he softly shut and locked +the door once more, and returned to his chair before the fire. Great +gusts of rain were being flung against the window-panes. The +wind howled near and far with a fury that seemed to set the walls +vibrating. Now and then dense puffs of smoke blew out across the +hearth into the room, and the atmosphere grew thick and stifling. + +But Nick did not seem aware of these things. He sat on unheeding in +the midst of his dust and ashes while the storm raged relentlessly +above his head. + + + + +CHAPTER XL + +THE WOMAN'S CHOICE + + +With the morning there came a lull in the tempest though the great +waves that spent themselves upon the shore seemed scarcely less +mountainous than when they rode before the full force of the storm. + +In Daisy Musgrave's cottage above the beach, a woman with a white, +jaded face sat by the window writing. A foreign envelope with an +Indian stamp lay on the table beside her. It had not been opened; and +once, glancing up, she pushed it slightly from her with a nervous, +impatient movement. Now and then she sat with her head upon her hand +thinking, and each time she emerged from her reverie it was to throw +a startled look towards the sea as though its ceaseless roar unnerved +her. + +Nevertheless, at sight of a big, loosely-slung figure walking slowly +up the flagged path, a quick smile flashed into her face, making it +instantly beautiful. She half rose from her chair, and then dropped +back again, still faintly smiling, while the light which only one +man's coming can kindle upon any woman's face shone upon hers, erasing +all weariness and bitterness while it lingered. + +At the opening of the door she turned without rising. "So you have +come after all! But I knew you would. Sit down a minute and wait while +I finish this tiresome letter. I have just done." + +She was already scribbling last words as fast as her pen would move, +and her visitor waited for her without a word. + +In a few minutes she turned to him again. "I have been writing a note +to Muriel, explaining things a little. She doesn't yet know that I +am here; but it would be no good for her to join me, for I am only +packing. I shall leave as soon as I can get away. And she too is going +almost at once to Mrs. Langdale, I believe. So we shall probably not +meet again at present. You will be seeing her this afternoon. Will you +give it to her?" + +She held the letter out to him, but he made no move to take it. His +face was very pale, more sternly miserable than she had ever seen it. +"I think you had better post it," he said. + +She rose and looked at him attentively. "Why, what's the matter, +Blake?" she said. + +He did not answer, and she went on immediately, still with her eyes +steadily uplifted. + +"Do you know, Blake, I have been thinking all night, and I have made +up my mind to have done with all this foolish sentimentality +finally and for ever. From to-day forward I enter upon the prosaic, +middle-aged stage. I was upset yesterday at the thought of losing you +so soon. It's been a lovely summer, hasn't it?" She stifled a sigh +half uttered. "Well, it's over. You have to go back to India, and we +must just make the best of it." + +He made a sharp movement, but said nothing. The next moment he dropped +down heavily into a chair and sat bowed, his head in his hands. + +Daisy stood looking down at him, and slowly her expression changed. A +very tender look came into her eyes, a look that made her seem older +and at the same time more womanly. Very quietly she sat down on the +arm of his chair and laid her hand upon him, gently rubbing it to and +fro. + +"My own boy, don't fret, don't fret!" she said. "You will be happier +by-and-by. I am sure of it." + +He took the little hand from his shoulder, and held it against his +eyes. At last after several seconds of silence he spoke. + +"Daisy, I have broken my engagement." + +Daisy gave a great start. A deep glow overspread her face, but it +faded very swiftly, leaving her white to the lips. "My dear Blake, +why?" she whispered. + +He answered her with his head down. "It was Nick Ratcliffe's doing. He +made me." + +"Made you, Blake! What can you mean?" + +Sullenly Grange made answer. "He had got the whip-hand, and I couldn't +help myself. He saw us on the shore together yesterday afternoon, made +up his mind then and there that I was no suitable partner for Muriel, +got me to go and dine with him, and told me so." + +"But Blake, how absurd!" Daisy spoke with a palpable effort. "How--how +utterly unreasonable! What made you give in to him?" + +Grange would not tell her. "I shouldn't have done so," he said +moodily, "if he hadn't given his word that he would never pester +Muriel again. She's well rid of me anyhow. He was right there. She +will probably see it in the same light." + +"What did you say to her?" questioned Daisy. + +"Oh, it doesn't matter, does it? I didn't see her. I wrote. I didn't +tell her anything that it was unnecessary for her to know. In fact +I didn't give her any particular reason at all. She'll think me an +infernal cad. And so I am." + +"You are not, Blake!" she declared vehemently. "You are not!" + +He was silent, still tightly clasping her hand. + +After a pause, she made a gentle movement to withdraw it; but at +that he turned with a sudden mastery and thrust his arms about her. +"Daisy," he broke out passionately, "I can't do without you! I can't! +I can't! I've tried,--Heaven knows how I've tried! But it can't be +done. It was madness ever to attempt to separate us. We were bound to +come together again. I have been drifting towards you always, always, +even when I wasn't thinking of you." + +Fiercely the hot words rushed out. He was holding her fast, though had +she made the smallest effort to free herself he would have let her go. + +But Daisy sat quite still, neither yielding nor resisting. Only at +his last words her lips quivered in a smile of tenderest ridicule. +"I know, my poor old Blake," she said, "like a good ship without a +rudder--caught in a strong current." + +"And it has been the same with you," he insisted. "You have always +wanted me more than--" + +He did not finish, for her hand was on his lips, restraining him. "You +mustn't say it, dear. You mustn't say it. It hurts us both too much. +There! Let me go! It does no good, you know. It's all so vain and +futile--now." Her voice trembled suddenly, and she ceased to speak. + +He caught her hand away, looking straight up at her with that new-born +mastery of his that made him so infinitely hard to resist. + +"If it is quite vain," he said, "then tell me to go,--and I will." + +She tried to meet his eyes, but found she could not. "I--shall have +to, Blake," she said in a whisper. + +"I am waiting," he told her doggedly. + +But she could not say the word. She turned her face away and sat +silent. + +He waited with absolute patience for minutes. Then at last very gently +he took his arms away from her and stood up. + +"I am going back to the inn," he said. "And I shall wait there till +to-morrow morning for your answer. If you send me away, I shall +go without seeing you again. But if--if you decide otherwise,"--he +lowered his voice as if he could not wholly trust it--"then I shall +apply at once for leave to resign. And--Daisy--we will go to the New +World together, and make up there for all the happiness we have missed +in the Old." + +He ended almost under his breath, and she seemed to hear his heart +beat through the words. It was almost too much for her even then. But +she held herself back, for there was that in her woman's soul that +clamoured to be heard--the patter of tiny feet that had never ceased +to echo there, the high chirrup of a baby's voice, the vision of a +toddling child with eager arms outstretched. + +And so she held her peace and let him go, though the struggle within +her left her physically weak and cold, and she did not dare to raise +her eyes lest he should surprise the love-light in them once again. + +It had come to this at last then--the final dividing of the ways, the +definite choice between good and evil. And she knew in her heart what +that choice would be, knew it even as the sound of the closing door +reached her consciousness, knew it as she strained her ears to catch +the fall of his feet upon the flagged path, knew it in every nerve and +fibre of her being as she sprang to the window for a last glimpse of +the man who had loved her all her life long, and now at last had won +her for himself. + +Slowly she turned round once more to the writing-table. The unopened +letter caught her eye. She picked it up with a set face, looked at +it closely for a few moments, and then deliberately tore it into tiny +fragments. + +A little later she went to her own room. From a lavender-scented +drawer she took an envelope, and shook its contents into her hand. +Only a tiny unmounted photograph of a laughing baby, and a ringlet of +baby hair! + +Her face quivered as she looked at them. They had been her dearest +treasures. Passionately she pressed them to her trembling lips, but +she shed no tears. And when she returned to the sitting-room there was +no faltering in her step. + +She poked the fire into a blaze, and, kneeling, dropped her treasures +into its midst. A moment's torture showed in her eyes, and passed. + +She had chosen. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI + +THE EAGLE'S PREY + + +During the whole of that day Muriel awaited in restless expectancy the +coming of her _fiance_. She had not heard from him for nearly a week, +and she had not written in the interval for the simple reason that +she lacked his address. But every day she had expected him to pay his +promised visit of farewell. + +It was hard work waiting for him. If she could have written, she would +have done so days before in such a fashion as to cause him almost +certainly to abandon his intention of seeing her. For her mind was +made up at last after her long torture of indecision. Dr. Jim's +vigorous speaking had done its work, and she knew that her only +possible course lay in putting an end to her engagement. + +She had always liked Blake Grange. She knew that she always would like +him. But emphatically she did not love him, and she knew now with the +sure intuition which all women develop sooner or later that he +had never loved her. He had proposed to her upon a mere chivalrous +impulse, and she was convinced that he would not wish to quarrel with +her for releasing him. + +Yet she dreaded the interview, even though she was quite sure that he +would not lose his self-control and wax violent, as had Nick on that +terrible night at Simla. She was almost morbidly afraid of hurting his +feelings. + +Of Nick she rigidly refused to think at all, though it was no easy +matter to exclude him from her thoughts, for he always seemed to be +clamouring for admittance. But she could not help wondering if, when +Blake had gone at last and she was free, she would be very greatly +afraid. + +She was sitting alone in her room that afternoon, watching the +scudding rain-clouds, when Olga brought her two letters. + +"Both from Brethaven," she said, "but neither from Nick. I wonder if +he is at Redlands. I hope he will come over here if he is." + +Muriel did not echo the hope. She knew the handwriting upon both the +envelopes, and she opened Daisy's first. It did not take long to read. +It simply contained a brief explanation of her presence at Brethaven, +which was due to an engagement having fallen through, mentioned Blake +as being on the point of departure, and wound up with the hope that +Muriel would not in any way alter her plans for her benefit as she was +only at the cottage for a few days to pack her possessions and she did +not suppose that she would care to be with her while this was going +on. + +There was no reference to any future meeting, and Muriel gravely put +the letter away in thoughtful silence. She had no clue whatever to the +slackening of their friendship, but she could not fail to note with +pain how far asunder they had drifted. + +She turned to Grange's letter with a faint wonder as to why he should +have troubled himself to write when he was so short a distance from +her. + +It contained but a few sentences; she read them with widening eyes. + + "Fate or the devil has been too strong for me, and I am + compelled to break my word to you. I have no excuse to offer, + except that my hand has been forced. Perhaps in the end it + will be better for you, but I would have stood by had it been + possible. And even now I would not desert you if I did not + positively know that you were safe--that the thing you feared + has ceased to exist. + + "Muriel, I have broken my oath, and I can hardly ask your + forgiveness. I only beg you to believe that it was not by my + own choice. I was fiendishly driven to it against my will. + I came to this place to say good-bye, but I shall leave + to-morrow without seeing you unless you should wish otherwise. + + "B. Grange." + +She reached the end of the letter and sat quite still, staring at the +open page. + +She was free, that was her first thought, free by no effort of her +own. The explanation she had dreaded had become unnecessary. She would +not even have to face the ordeal of a meeting. She drew a long breath +of relief. + +And then swift as a poisoned arrow came another thought,--a stabbing, +intolerable suspicion. Why had he thus set her free? How had his hand +been forced? By what means had he been fiendishly driven? + +She read the letter through again, and suddenly her heart began to +throb thick and hard, so that she gasped for breath. This was Nick's +doing. She was as sure of it as if those brief, bitter sentences had +definitely told her so. Nick was the motive power that had compelled +Grange to this action. How he had done it, she could not even vaguely +surmise. But that he had in some malevolent fashion come between them +she did not for an instant doubt. + +And wherefore? She put her hand to her throat, feeling suffocated, +as the memory of that last interview with him on the shore raced +with every fiery detail through her brain. He had marked her down for +himself, long, long ago, and whatever Dr. Jim might say, he had never +abandoned the pursuit. He meant to capture her at last. She might +flee, but he was following, tireless, fleet, determined. Presently he +would swoop like an eagle upon his prey, and she would be utterly at +his mercy. He had beaten Grange, and there was no one left to help +her. + +"Oh, Muriel,"--it was Olga's voice from the window--"come here, quick, +quick! I can see a hawk." + +She started as one starts from a horrible dream, and looked round with +dazed eyes. + +"It's hovering!" cried Olga excitedly. "It's hovering! There! Now it +has struck!" + +"And something is dead," said Muriel, in a voiceless whisper. + +The child turned round, saw something unusual in her friend's face, +and went impetuously to her. + +"Muriel, darling, you look so strange. Is anything the matter?" + +Muriel put an arm around her. "No, nothing," she said. "Olga, will it +surprise you very much to hear that I am not going to marry Captain +Grange after all?" + +"No, dear," said Olga. "I never somehow thought you would, and I +didn't want you to either." + +"Why not?" Muriel looked up in some surprise. "I thought you liked +him." + +"Oh, yes, of course I do," said Olga. "But he isn't half the man Nick +is, even though he is a V.C. Oh, Muriel, I wish,--I do wish--you would +marry Nick. Perhaps you will now." + +But at that Muriel cried out sharply and sprang to her feet, almost +thrusting Olga from her. + +"No, never!" she exclaimed, "Never,--never,--never!" Then, seeing +Olga's hurt face, "Oh, forgive me, dear! I didn't mean to be +unkind. But please don't ever dream of such a thing again. It--it's +impossible--quite. Ah, there is the gong for tea. Let us go down." + +They went down hand in hand. But Olga was very quiet for the rest of +the evening; and she did not cling to Muriel as usual when she said +good-night. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII + +THE HARDEST FIGHT OF ALL + + +It was growing late on that same evening when to Daisy, packing in her +room with feverish haste, a message was brought that Captain Ratcliffe +was waiting, and desired to see her. + +Her first impulse was to excuse herself from the interview, for she +and Nick had never stood upon ceremony; but a very brief consideration +decided her to see him. Since he had come at an unusual hour, it +seemed probable that he had some special object in view, and if that +were so, she would find it hard to turn him from his purpose. But she +resolved to make the interview as brief as possible. She had no place +for Nick in her life just then. + +She entered the little parlour with a certain impetuosity, that was +not wholly spontaneous. "My dear Nick," she said, as she did so, +"I can give you exactly five minutes, not one second more, for I am +frightfully busy packing up my things to leave to-morrow." + +He came swiftly to meet her, so swiftly that she was for the moment +deceived, and fancied that he was about to greet her with his +customary bantering gallantry. But he did not lift her fingers to his +lips after his usual gay fashion. He only held her proffered hand very +tightly for several seconds without verbal greeting of any sort. + +Suddenly he began to speak, and as he did so she seemed to see +a hundred wrinkles spring into being on his yellow face. "I have +something to say to you, Mrs. Musgrave," he said. "And it's something +so particularly beastly that I funk saying it. We have always been +such pals, you and I, and that makes it all the harder." + +He broke off, his shrewd glance flashing over her, keen and elusive as +a rapier. Daisy faced him quite fully and fearlessly. The possibility +of a conflict in this quarter had occurred to her before. She would +not shirk it, but she was determined that it should be as brief as +possible. + +"Being pals doesn't entitle you to go trespassing, Nick," she said. + +"I know that," said Nick, speaking very rapidly. "None better. But +I am not thinking of you only, though I hate to make you angry. Mrs. +Musgrave--Daisy--I want to ask you, and you can't refuse to answer. +What are you doing? What are you going to do?" + +"I don't know what you mean," she said, speaking coldly. "And anyhow +I can't stop to listen to you. I haven't time. I think you had better +go." + +"You must listen," Nick said. She caught the grim note of +determination in his voice, and was aware of the whole force of his +personality flung suddenly against her. "Daisy," he said, "you are to +look upon me as Will's representative. I am the nearest friend he has. +Have you thought of him at all lately, stewing in those hellish Plains +for your sake? He's such a faithful chap, you know. Can't you go back +to him soon? Isn't it--forgive me--isn't it a bit shabby to play +this sort of game when there's a fellow like that waiting for you and +fretting his very heart out because you don't go?" + +He stopped--his lips twitching with the vigour of his appeal. And +Daisy realised that he would have to be told the simple truth. He +would not be satisfied with less. + +Very pale but quite calm, she braced herself to tell him. "I am afraid +you are pleading a lost cause," she said, her words quiet and very +distinct. "I am never going back to him." + +"Never!" Nick moved sharply drawing close to her. "Never?" he said +again; then with abrupt vehemence, "Daisy, you don't mean that! You +didn't say it!" + +She drew back slightly from him, but her answer was perfectly steady, +rigidly determined. "I have said it, Nick. And I meant it. You had +better go. You will do no good by staying to argue. I know all +that you can possibly say, and it makes no difference to me. I have +chosen." + +"What have you chosen?" he demanded. + +For an instant she hesitated. There was something almost fierce in his +manner, something she had never encountered before, something that +in spite of her utmost effort made her feel curiously uneasy, even +apprehensive. She had always known that there was a certain uncanny +strength about Nick, but to feel the whole weight of it directed +against her was a new experience. + +"What have you chosen?" he repeated relentlessly. + +And reluctantly, more than half against her will, she told him. "I am +going to the man I love." + +She was prepared for some violent outburst upon her words, but +none came. Nick heard her in silence, standing straight before her, +watching her, she felt, with an almost brutal intentness, though his +eyes never for an instant met her own. + +"Then," he said suddenly at length, and quick though they were, +it seemed to her that the words fell with something of the awful +precision of a death-sentence, "God help you both; for you are going +to destroy him and yourself too." + +Daisy made a sharp gesture; it was almost one of shrinking. And at +once he turned from her and fell to pacing the little room, up and +down, up and down incessantly, like an animal in a cage. It was +useless to attempt to dismiss him, for she saw that he would not go. +She moved quietly to a chair and sat down to wait. + +Abruptly at last he stopped, halting in front of her. "Daisy,"--he +began, and broke off short, seeming to battle with himself. + +She looked up in surprise. It was so utterly unlike Nick to relinquish +his self-command at a critical juncture. The next moment he amazed her +still further. He dropped suddenly down on his knees and gripped her +clasped hands fast. + +"Daisy," he said again, and this time words came, jerky and +passionate, "this is my doing. I've driven you to it. If I hadn't +interfered with Grange, you would never have thought of it." + +She sat without moving, but the hasty utterance had its effect upon +her. Some of the rigidity went out of her attitude. "My dear Nick," +she said, "what is the good of saying that?" + +"Isn't it true?" he persisted. + +She hesitated, unwilling to wound him. + +"You know it is true," he declared with vehemence. "If I had let him +alone, he would have married Muriel, and this thing would never have +happened. God knows I did what was right, but if it doesn't turn out +right, I'm done for. I never believed in eternal damnation before, but +if this thing comes to pass it will be hell-fire for me for as long as +I live. For I shall never believe in God again." + +He swung away from her as though in bodily torture, came in contact +with the table and bowed his head upon it. For many seconds his +breathing, thick and short, almost convulsed, was the only sound in +the room. + +As for Daisy, she sat still, staring at him dumbly, witnessing his +agony till the sight of it became more than she could bear. Then she +moved, reached stiffly forward, and touched him. + +"You are not to blame yourself, Nick," she said. + +He did not stir. "I don't," he answered, and again fell silent. + +At last he moved, seemed to pull himself together, finally got to his +feet. + +"Do you think you will be happy?" he said. "Do you think you will +ever manage to forget what you have sacrificed to this fetish you +call Love,--how you broke the heart of one of the best fellows in the +world, and trampled upon the memory of your dead child--the little +chap you used to call the light of your eyes, who used to hold out his +arms directly he saw you and cry when you went away?" + +His voice was not very steady, and he paused but he did not look at +her or seem to expect any reply. + +Daisy gave a great shiver. She felt cold from head to foot. But she +was not afraid of Nick. If she yielded, it would not be through fear. + +A full minute crawled away before he spoke again. "And this fellow +Grange," he said then. "He is a man who values his honour. He has +lived a clean life. He holds an unblemished record. He is in your +hands. You can do what you like with him--whatever your love inspires +you to do. You can pull him back into a straight course, or you can +wreck him for good and all. Which is it going to be, I wonder? It's a +sacrifice either way,--a sacrifice to Love or a sacrifice to devils. +You can make it which you will. But if it is to be the last, never +talk of Love again. For Love--real Love--is the safeguard from all +evil. And if you can do this thing, it has never been above your +horizon, and never will be." + +Again he stopped, and again there was silence while Daisy sat +white-faced and slightly bowed, wondering when it would be over, +wondering how much longer she could possibly endure. + +And then suddenly he bent down over her. His hand was on her shoulder. +"Daisy," he said, and voice and touch alike implored her, "give him +up, dear! Give him up! You can do it if you will, if your love is +great enough. I know how infernally hard it is to do. I've done it +myself. It means tearing your very heart out. But it will be worth +it--it must be worth it--afterwards. You are bound--some time--to reap +what you have sown." + +She lifted a haggard face. There was something in the utterance that +compelled her. And so looking, she saw that which none other of this +man's friend's had ever seen. She saw his naked soul, stripped bare of +all deception, of all reserve,--a vital, burning flame shining in the +desert. The sight moved her as had nought else. + +"Oh, Nick," she cried out desperately, "I can't--I can't!" + +He bent lower over her. He was looking straight down into her eyes. +"Daisy," he said very urgently, "Daisy, for God's sake--try!" + +Her white lips quivered, striving again to refuse. But the words would +not come. Her powers of resistance had begun to totter. + +"You can do it," he declared, his voice quick and passionate as though +he pleaded with her for life itself. "You can do it--if you will. I +will help you. You shan't stand alone. Don't stop to think. Just come +with me now--at once--and put an end to it before you sleep. For you +can't do this thing, Daisy. It isn't in you. It is all a monstrous +mistake, and you can't go on with it. I know you better than you know +yourself. We haven't been pals all these years for nothing. And there +is that in your heart that won't let you go on. I thought it was dead +a few minutes ago. But, thank God, it isn't. I can see it in your +eyes." + +She uttered an inarticulate sound that was more bitter than any +weeping, and covered her face. + +Instantly Nick straightened himself and turned away. He went to the +window and leaned his head against the sash. He had the spent look of +a man who has fought to the end of his strength. The thunder of the +waves upon the shore filled in the long, long silence. + +Minutes crawled away, and still he stood there with his face to the +darkness. At last a voice spoke behind him, and he turned. Daisy had +risen. + +She stood in the lamplight, quite calm and collected. There was even a +smile upon her face, but it was a smile that was sadder than tears. + +"It's been a desperate big fight, hasn't it, Nick?" she said. "But--my +dear--you've won. For the sake of my little baby, and for the sake of +the man I love--yes, and partly for your sake too,"--she held out her +hand to him with the words--"I am going back to the prison-house. No, +don't speak to me. You have said enough. And, Nick, I must go alone. +So I want you, please, to go away, and not to come to me again until I +send for you. I shall send sooner or later. Will you do this?" + +Her voice never faltered, but the misery in her eyes cut him to the +heart. In that moment he realised how terribly near he had been to +losing the hardest battle he had ever fought. + +He gave her no second glance. Simply, without a word, he stooped and +kissed the hand she had given him; then turned and went noiselessly +away. + +He had won indeed, but the only triumph he knew was the pain of a very +human compassion. + +Scarcely five minutes after his departure, Daisy let herself out into +the night that lay like a pall above the moaning shore. She went with +lagging feet that often stumbled in the darkness. It was only the +memory of a baby's head against her breast that gave her strength. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII + +REQUIESCAT + + +"I believe I heard a gun in the night," remarked Mrs. Ratcliffe at the +breakfast-table on the following morning. + +"Shouldn't be surprised," said Dr. Jim. "I know there was a ship in +distress off Calister yesterday. They damaged the lifeboat trying to +reach her. But the wind seems to have gone down a little this morning. +Do you care for a ride, Muriel?" + +Muriel accepted the invitation gladly. She liked accompanying Dr. Jim +upon his rounds. She had arranged to leave two days later, a decision +which the news of Daisy's presence at Brethaven had not affected. +Daisy seemed to have dropped her for good and all, and her pride would +not suffer her to inquire the reason. She had, in fact, begun to think +that Daisy had merely tired of her, and that being so she was the +more willing to go to Mrs. Langdale, whose letters of fussy kindliness +seemed at least to ensure her a cordial welcome. + +She had discussed her troubles no further with Dr. Jim. Grange's +letter had in some fashion placed matters beyond discussion. And so +she had only briefly told him that her engagement was at an end, and +he had gruffly expressed his satisfaction thereat. Her one idea now +was to escape from Nick's neighbourhood as speedily as possible. It +possessed her even in her dreams. + +She went with Dr. Jim to the surgery when breakfast was over, and sat +down alone in the consulting-room to wait for him. He usually started +on his rounds at ten o'clock, but it wanted a few minutes to the +hour and the motor was not yet at the door. She sat listening for it, +hoping that no one would appear to detain him. + +The morning was bright, and the wind had fallen considerably. Through +the window she watched the falling leaves as they eddied in sudden +draughts along the road. She looked through a wire screen that gave +rather a depressing effect to the sunshine. + +Suddenly from some distance away there came to her the sound of a +horse's hoof-beats, short and hard, galloping over the stones. It +was a sound that arrested the attention, awaking in her a vague, +apprehensive excitement. Almost involuntarily she drew nearer to the +window, peering above the blind. + +Some seconds elapsed before she caught sight of the headlong horseman, +and then abruptly he dashed into sight round a curve in the road. At +the same instant the gallop became a fast trot, and she saw that the +rider was gripping the animal with his knees. He had no saddle. + +Amazed and startled, she stood motionless, gazing at the sudden +apparition, saw as the pair drew nearer what something within her had +already told her loudly before her vision served her, and finally drew +back with a sharp, instinctive contraction of her whole body as the +horseman reined in before the surgery-door and dismounted with a +monkey-like dexterity, his one arm twined in the bridle. A moment +later the surgery-bell pealed loudly, and her heart stood still. She +felt suddenly sick with a nameless foreboding. + +Standing with bated breath, she heard Dr. Jim himself go to answer the +summons, and an instant later Nick's voice came to her, gasping and +uneven, but every word distinct. + +"Ah, there you are! Thought I should catch you. Man, you're +wanted--quick! In heaven's name--lose no time. Grange was drowned +early this morning, and--I believe it's killed Daisy. For mercy's +sake, come at once!" + +There was a momentary pause. Muriel's heart was beating in great +sickening throbs. She felt stiff and powerless. + +Dr. Jim's voice, brief and decided, struck through the silence. "Come +inside and have something. I shall be ready to start in three minutes. +Leave your animal here. He's dead beat." + +There followed the sound of advancing feet, a hand upon the door, and +the next moment they entered together. Nick was reeling a little and +holding Jim's arm. He saw Muriel with a sharp start, standing as she +had turned from the window. The doctor's brows met for an instant as +he put his brother into a chair. He had forgotten Muriel. + +With an effort she overcame the paralysis that bound her, and moved +forward with shaking limbs. + +"Did you say Blake was--dead?" she asked, her voice pitched very low. + +She looked at Nick as she asked this question, and it was Nick who +answered her in his quick, keen way, as though he realised the mercy +of brevity. + +"Yes. He and some fisher chaps went out early this morning in an +ordinary boat to rescue some fellows on a wreck that had drifted on +to the rocks outside the harbour. The lifeboat had been damaged, and +couldn't be used. They reached the wreck all right, but there were +more to save than they had reckoned on--more than the boat would +carry--and the wreck was being battered to pieces. It was only a +matter of seconds for the tide was rising. So they took the lot, and +Grange went over the side to make it possible. He hung on to a rope +for a time, but the seas were tremendous, and after a bit it parted. +He was washed up two hours ago. He had been in the water since three, +among the rocks. There wasn't the smallest chance of bringing him +back. He was long past any help we could give." + +He ended abruptly, and helped himself with a jerk to something in a +glass that Jim had placed by his side. + +Muriel stood dumbly watching. She noticed with an odd, detached sense +of curiosity that he was shivering violently as one with an ague. Dr. +Jim was already making swift preparations for departure. + +Suddenly Nick looked up at her. His eyes were glittering strangely. "I +know now," he said, "what you women feel like when you can only stand +and look on. We have been looking on--Daisy and I--just looking on, +for six mortal hours." He banged his fist with a sort of condensed +fury upon the table, and leapt to his feet. "Jim, are you ready? I +can't sit still any longer." + +"Finish that stuff, and don't be a fool!" ordered Jim curtly. + +Muriel turned swiftly towards him. "You'll take me with you!" she said +very earnestly. + +Nick broke in sharply upon the request. "No, no, Muriel! You're not to +go. Jim, you can't--you shan't--take her! I won't allow it!" + +But Muriel was clinging to Dr. Jim's arm with quivering face upraised. +"You will take me," she entreated. "I was able to help Daisy before. I +can help her now." + +But even before she spoke there flashed a swift glance between the two +brothers that foiled her appeal almost before it was uttered. With +a far greater gentleness than was customary with him, but with +unmistakable decision, Dr. Jim refused her petition. + +"I can't take you now, child. But if Daisy should ask for you, or +if there is anything under the sun that you can do for her, I will +promise to let you know." + +It was final, but she would not have it so. A sudden gust of anger +caught her, anger against the man for whose sake she had one night +shed so many bitter tears, whom now she so fierily hated. She still +clung to Jim. She was shaking all over. + +"What does it matter what Nick says?" she urged pantingly. "Why give +in to him at every turn? I won't be left behind--just because he +wishes it!" + +She would have said more. Her self-control was tottering; but Dr. Jim +restrained her. "My dear, it is not for Nick's sake," he said. "Come, +you are going to be sensible. Sit down and get your breath. There's +no time for hysterics. I must go across and speak to my wife before I +go." + +He looked at Nick who instantly responded. "Yes, you be off! I'll look +after her. Be quick, man, be quick!" + +But when Dr. Jim was gone, his impatience fell away from him. He +moved round the table and stood before her. He was steady enough now, +steadier far than she. + +"Don't take it too hard," he said. "At least he died like a man." + +She did not draw away from him. There was no room for fear in her +heart just then. It held only hatred--a fierce, consuming flame--that +enabled her to face him as she had never faced him before. + +"Why did you let him go?" she demanded of him, her voice deep and +passionate, her eyes unwaveringly upon him. "There must have been +others. You were there. Why didn't you stop him?" + +"I stop him!" said Nick, and a flash of something that was almost +humour crossed his face. "You seem to think I am omnipotent." + +Her eyes continued to challenge him. "You always manage to get your +own way somehow," she said very bitterly, "by fair means or foul. Are +you going to deny that it was you who made him write that letter?" + +He did not ask her what she meant. "No," he said with a promptitude +that took her by surprise. "I plead guilty to that. As you are aware, +I never approved of your engagement." + +His effrontery stung her into what was almost a state of frenzy. Her +eyes blazed their utmost scorn. She had never been less afraid of him +than at that moment. She had never hated him more intensely. + +"You could make him do a thing like that," she said. "And yet you +couldn't hold him back from certain death!" + +He answered her without heat, in a tone she deemed most hideously +callous. "It was not my business to hold him back. He was wanted. +There would have been no rescue but for him. They needed a man to lead +them, or they wouldn't have gone at all." + +His composure goaded her beyond all endurance. She scarcely waited for +him to finish, nor was she wholly responsible for what she said. + +"Was there only one man among you, then?" she asked, with headlong +contempt. + +He made her a curious, jerky bow. "One man--yes," he said. "The rest +were mere sheep, with the exception of one--who was a cripple." + +Her heart contracted suddenly with a pain that was physical. She felt +as if he had struck her, and it goaded her to a fiercer cruelty. + +"You knew he would never come back!" she declared her voice quivering +uncontrollably with the passion that shook her. "You--you never meant +him to come back!" + +He opened his eyes wide for a single instant, and she fancied that she +had touched him. It was the first time in her memory that she had ever +seen them fully. Instinctively she avoided them, as she would have +avoided a flash of lightning. + +And then he spoke, and she knew at once that her wild accusation had +in no way hurt him. "You think that, do you?" he said, and his tone +sounded to her as though he barely repressed a laugh. "Awfully nice of +you! I wonder what exactly you take me for." + +She did not keep him in suspense on that point. If she had never had +the strength to tell him before, she could tell him now. + +"I take you for a fiend!" she cried hysterically. "I take you for a +fiend!" + +He turned sharply from her, so sharply that she was conscious of a +moment's fear overmastering her madness. But instantly, with his back +to her, he spoke, and her brief misgiving was gone. + +"It doesn't matter much now what you take me for," he said, and again +in the cracked notes of his voice she seemed to hear the echo of a +laugh. "You won't need to seek any more protectors so far as I am +concerned. You will never see me again unless the gods ordain that +you should come and find me. It isn't the way of an eagle to swoop +twice--particularly an eagle with only one wing." + +The laugh was quite audible now, and she never saw how that one hand +of his was clenched and pressed against his side. He had reached the +door while he was speaking. Turning swiftly, he cast one flickering, +inscrutable glance towards her, and then with no gesture of farewell +was gone. She heard his receding footsteps die away while she +struggled dumbly to quell the tumult of her heart. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV + +LOVE'S PRISONER + + +Late that evening a scribbled note reached Muriel from Dr. Jim. + +"You can do nothing whatever," he wrote. "Daisy is suffering from +a sharp attack of brain fever, caused by the shock of her cousin's +death, and I think it advisable that no one whom she knows should be +near her. You may rest assured that all that can be done for her will +be done. And, Muriel, I think you will be wise to go to Mrs. Langdale +as you originally intended. It will be better for you, as I think +you will probably realise. You shall be kept informed of Daisy's +condition, but I do not anticipate any immediate change." + +She was glad of those few words of advice. Her anxiety regarding +Daisy notwithstanding, she knew it would be a relief to her to go. The +strain of many days was telling upon her. She felt herself to be on +the verge of a break-down, and she longed unspeakably to escape. + +She went to her room early on her last night at Weir, but not in order +to rest the longer. She had something to do, something from which she +shrank with a strange reluctance, yet which for her peace of mind she +dared not leave neglected. + +It was thus she expressed it to herself as with trembling fingers she +opened the box that contained all her sacred personal treasures. + +It lay beneath them all, wrapped in tissue-paper, as it had passed +from his hand to hers, and for long she strove to bring herself to +slip the tiny packet unopened into an envelope and seal it down--yet +could not. + +At last--it was towards midnight--she yielded to the force that +compelled. Against her will she unfolded the shielding paper and held +that which it contained upon the palm of her hand. Burning rubies, +red as heart's blood, ardent as flame, flashed and glinted in the +lamp-light. "OMNIA VINCIT AMOR"--how the words scorched her memory! +And she had wondered once if they were true! + +She knew now! She knew now! He had forced her to realise it. He had +captured her, had kindled within her--by what magic she knew not--the +undying Against her will, in spite of her utmost resistance, he had +done this thing. Above and beyond and through her fiercest hatred, he +had conquered her quivering heart. He had let her go again, but not +till he had blasted her happiness for ever. None other could ever +dominate her as this man dominated. None other could ever kindle in +her--or ever quench--the torch that this man's hand had lighted. + +And this was Love--this hunger that could never be satisfied, this +craving which would not be stifled or ignored--Love triumphant, +invincible, immortal--the thing she had striven to slay at its +birth, but which had lived on in spite of her, growing, spreading, +enveloping, till she was lost, till she was suffocated, in its +immensity. There could never be any escape for her again. She was +fettered hand and foot. It was useless any longer to strive. She stood +and faced the truth. + +She did not ask herself how it was she had ever come to care. She only +numbly realised that she had always cared. And she knew now that to no +woman is it given so to hate as she had hated without the spur of Love +goading her thereto. Ah, but Love was cruel! + +Love was merciless! For she had never known--nor ever could know +now--the ecstasy of Love. Truly, it conquered; but it left its +prisoners to perish of starvation in the wilderness. + +A slight sound in the midnight silence! A timid hand softly trying +the door-handle! She sprang up, dropping the ring upon her table, and +turned to see Olga in her nightdress, standing in the doorway. + +"I was awake," the child explained tremulously. "And I heard you +moving. And I wondered, dear Muriel, if perhaps I could do anything to +help you. You--you don't mind?" + +Muriel opened her arms impulsively. She felt as if Olga had been sent +to lighten her darkest hour. + +For a while she held her close, not speaking at all; and it was Olga +who at last broke the silence. + +"Darling, are you crying for Captain Grange?" + +She raised her head then to meet the child's gaze of tearful sympathy. + +"I am not crying, dear," she said. "And--it wouldn't be for him if I +were. I don't want to cry for him. I just envy him, that's all." + +She leaned her head against Olga's shoulder, rocking a little to and +fro with closed eyes. "Yes," she said at last, "you can help me, Olga, +if you will. That ring on the table, dear,--a ring with rubies--do you +see it?" + +"Yes," breathed Olga, holding her very close. + +"Then just take it, dear." Muriel's voice was unutterably weary; she +seemed to speak with a great effort. "It belongs to Nick. He gave it +to me once, long ago, in remembrance of something. I want you to give +it back to him, and tell him simply that I prefer to forget." + +Olga took up the ring. Her lips were trembling. "Aren't you--aren't +you being nice to Nick any more, Muriel?" she asked in a whisper. + +Muriel did not answer. + +"Not when you promised?" the child urged piteously. + +There was silence. Muriel's face was hidden. Her black hair hung about +her like a cloud, veiling her from her friend's eyes. For a long time +she said nothing whatever. Then at last without moving she made reply. + +"It's no use, Olga. I can't! I can't! It's not my doing. It's his. +Oh, I think my heart is broken!" Through the anguish of weeping that +followed, Olga clasped her passionately close, frightened, by an +intensity of suffering such as she had never seen before and was +powerless to alleviate. + +She slept with Muriel that night, but, waking in the dawning, just +when Muriel had sunk to sleep, she crept out of bed and, with Nick's +ring grasped tightly in her hand, softly stole away. + + + + +PART V + + + + +CHAPTER XLV + +THE VISION + + +A gorgeous sunset lay in dusky, fading crimson upon the Plains, +trailing to darkness in the east. The day had been hot and cloudless, +but a faint, chill wind had sprung up with the passing of the sun, +and it flitted hither and thither like a wandering spirit over the +darkening earth. + +Down in the native quarter a _tom-tom_ throbbed, persistent, +exasperating as the voice of conscience. Somewhere in the distance a +dog barked restlessly, at irregular intervals. And at a point between +_tom-tom_ and dog a couple of parrots screeched vociferously. + +Over all, the vast Indian night was rushing down on silent, mysterious +wings. Crimson merged to grey in the telling, and through the falling +dark there shone, detached and wonderful, a single star. + +In the little wooden bungalow over against, the water-works a light +had been kindled and gleamed out in a red streak across the Plain. +Other lights were beginning to flicker also from all points of the +compass, save only where a long strip of jungle lay like a blot upon +the face of the earth. But the red light burned the steadiest of them +all. + +It came from the shaded lamp of an Englishman, and beneath it with +stubborn, square-jawed determination the Englishman sat at work. + +Very steadily his hand moved over the white paper, and the face that +was bent above it never varied--a face that still possessed something +of the freshness of youth though the set of the lips was firm even to +sternness and the line of the chin was hard. He never raised his eyes +as he worked except to refer to the notebook at his elbow. The passage +of time seemed of no moment to him. + +Yet at the soft opening of the door, he did look up for an instant, a +gleam of expectancy upon his face that died immediately. + +"All right, Sammy, directly," he said, returning without pause to his +work. + +Sammy, butler, bearer, and general factotum, irreproachable from his +snowy turban to his white-slippered feet, did not take the hint +to retire, but stood motionless just inside the room, waiting with +statuesque patience till his master should deign to bestow upon him +the favour of his full attention. + +After a little Will Musgrave realised this, and with an abrupt sigh +sat back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his forehead. + +"Well?" he said then. "You needn't trouble to tell me that the mail +has passed, for I heard the fellow half an hour ago. Of course there +were no letters?" + +The man shook his head despondingly. "No letters, sahib." + +"Then what do you want?" asked Will, beginning to eye his work again. + +Sammy--so dubbed by Daisy long ago because his own name was too sore +a tax upon her memory--sent a look of gleaming entreaty across the +lamp-lit space that separated him from his master. + +"The dinner grows cold, sahib," he observed pathetically. + +Will smiled a little. "All right, my good Sammy. What does it matter? +I'm sure if I don't mind, you needn't. And I'm busy just now." + +But the Indian stood his ground. "What will my mem-sahib say to me," +he said, "when she comes and finds that my lord has been starved?" + +Will's face changed. It was a very open face, boyishly sincere. He did +not laugh at the earnest question. He only gravely shook his head. + +"The mem-sahib will come," the man declared, with conviction. "And +what will her servant say when she asks him why his master is so thin? +She will say, 'Sammy, I left him in your care. What have you done to +him?' And, sahib, what answer can her servant give?" + +Will clasped his hands at the back of his head in a careless attitude, +but his face was grim. "I don't think you need worry yourself, Sammy," +he said. "I am not expecting the mem-sahib--at present." + +Nevertheless, moved by the man's solicitude, he rose after a moment +and laid his work together. He might as well dine, he reflected, as +sit and argue about it. With a heavy step he passed into the room +where dinner awaited him, and sat down at the table. + +No, he was certainly not expecting her at present. He had even of late +begun to ask himself if he expected her at all. It was five months now +since the news of her severe illness had almost induced him to throw +everything aside and go to her. He had only been deterred from this +by a very serious letter from Dr. Jim, strongly advising him to remain +where he was, since it was highly improbable that he would be allowed +to see Daisy for weeks or even months were he at hand, and she would +most certainly be in no fit state to return with him to India. That +letter had been to Will as the passing knell of all he had ever hoped +or desired. Definitely it had told him very little, but he was +not lacking in perception, and he had read a distinct and wholly +unmistakable meaning behind the guarded, kindly sentences. And he knew +when he laid the letter down that in Dr. Jim's opinion his presence +might do incalculable harm. From that day forward he had entertained +no further idea of return, settling down again to his work with a +dogged patience that was very nearly allied to despair. + +He was undoubtedly a rising man. There were prospects of a speedy +improvement in his position. It was unlikely that he would be called +upon to spend another hot season in the scorching Plains. Steady +perseverance and indubitable talent had made their mark. But success +was dust and ashes to him now. He did not greatly care if he went or +stayed. + +That Daisy was well again, or on the high-road to recovery, he knew; +but he had not received a single letter from her since her illness. + +Jim's epistles were very few and far between, but Nick had maintained +a fairly regular correspondence with him till a few weeks back when it +had unaccountably lapsed. But then Nick had done unaccountable things +before, and he did not set down his silence to inconstancy. He was +probably making prodigious efforts on his behalf, and Will awaited +every mail with an eagerness he could not quite suppress, which turned +invariably, however, into a sick sense of disappointment. + +That Daisy would ever return to him now he did not for an instant +believe, but there remained the chance--the slender, infinitesimal +chance--that she might ask him to go to her. More than a flying visit +she would know he could not manage. His work was his living, and +hers. But so much Nick's powers of persuasion might one day accomplish +though he would not allow himself to contemplate the possibility, +while week by week the chance dwindled. + +So he sat alone and unexpectant at his dinner-table that night and +made heroic efforts to pacify the vigilant Sammy whose protest had +warmed his heart a little if it had not greatly assisted his appetite. + +He was glad when the meal was over, and he could saunter out on to +the verandah with his cigar. The night was splendid with stars; but it +held no moon. The wind had died away, but it had left a certain chill +behind; and somehow he was reminded of a certain evening of early +summer in England long ago, when he and Daisy had strolled together +in an English garden, and she had yielded impulsively to his earnest +wooing and had promised to be his wife. He remembered still the little +laugh half sweet, half bitter, with which she had surrendered, the +soft raillery of her blue eyes that yet had not wholly mocked him, the +dainty charm of her submission. She had not loved him. He had known it +even then. She had almost told him so. But with a boy's impetuosity he +had taken the little she had to give, trusting to the future to make +her all his own. + +Ah, well! He caught himself sighing, and found that his cigar was out. +With something less than his customary self-suppression he pitched it +forth into the darkness. He could not even smoke with any enjoyment. +He would go indoors and work. + +He swung round on his heel, and started back along the verandah +towards his room from which the red light streamed. Three strides he +took with his eyes upon the ground. Then for no reason that he knew he +glanced up towards that bar of light. The next instant he stood still +as one transfixed, and all the blood rushed in tumult to his heart. + +There, motionless in the full glare--watching him, waiting for +him--stood his wife! + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI + +THE HEART OF A MAN + + +She did not utter a single word or move to greet him. Even in that +ruddy light she was white to the lips. Her hands were fast gripped +together. She did not seem to breathe. + +So for full thirty seconds they faced one another, speechless, +spell-bound, while through the awful silence the cry of a jackal +sounded from afar, seeking its meat from God. + +Will was the first to move, feeling for his handkerchief mechanically +and wiping his forehead. Also he tried to speak aloud, but his voice +was gone. "Pull yourself together, you fool!" he whispered savagely. +"She'll be gone again directly." + +She caught the words apparently, for her attitude changed. She parted +her straining hands as though by great effort, and moved towards him. + +Out of the glare of the lamplight she looked more normal. She wore +a grey travelling-dress, but her hat was off. He fancied he saw the +sparkle of the starlight in her hair. + +She came towards him a few steps, and then she stopped. "Will," she +said, and her voice had a piteous tremble in it, "won't you speak to +me? Don't you--don't you know me?" + +Her voice awoke him, brought him down from the soaring heights of +imagination as it were with a thud. He strode forward and caught her +hands in his. + +"Good heavens, Daisy!" he said. "I thought I was dreaming! How on +earth--" + +And there he stopped dead, checked in mid career, for she was leaning +back from him, leaning back with all her strength that he might not +kiss her. + +He stood, still holding her hands, and looked at her. There was a +curious, choked sensation at his throat, as if he had swallowed ashes. +She had come back to him--she had come back to him indeed, but he had +a feeling that she was somehow beyond his reach, further away from him +in that moment of incredible reunion than she had ever been during all +the weary months of their separation. This woman with the pale face +and tragic eyes was a total stranger to him. Small wonder that he had +thought himself to be dreaming! + +With a furious effort he collected himself. He let her hands slip +from his. "Come in here," he said, forcing his dry throat to speech by +sheer strength of will. "You should have let me know." + +She went in without a word, and came to a stand before the table that +was littered with his work. She was agitated, he saw. Her hand was +pressed against her heart, and she seemed to breathe with difficulty. + +Instinctively he came to her aid with commonplace phrases--the first +that occurred to him. "How did you come? But no matter! Tell me +presently. You must have something to eat. You look dead beat. Sit +down, won't--" + +And there he stopped again, breaking off short to stare at her. In the +lighted room she had turned to face him, and he saw that her hair was +no longer golden but silvery white. + +Seeing his look, she began to speak in hurried, uneven sentences. "I +have been ill, you know. It--it was brain fever, Jim said. Hair--fair +hair particularly--does go like that sometimes." + +"You are well again?" he questioned. + +"Oh, quite--quite." There was something almost feverish in the +assertion; she was facing him with desperate resolution. "I have been +well for a long time. Please don't send for anything. I dined at the +dak-bungalow an hour ago. I--I thought it best." + +Her agitation was increasing. She panted between each sentence. Will +turned aside, shut and bolted the window, and drew the blind. Then he +went close to her; he laid a steady hand upon her. + +"Sit down," he said, "and tell me what is the matter." + +She sank down mutely. Her mouth was quivering; she sought to hide it +from him with her hand. + +"Tell me," he said again, and quietly though he spoke there was in his +tone a certain mastery that had never asserted itself in the old days; +"What is it? Why have you come to me like this?" + +"I--haven't come to stay, Will," she said, her voice so low that it +was barely audible. + +His face changed. He looked suddenly dogged. "After twenty months!" he +said. + +She bent her head. "I know. It's half a lifetime--more. You have +learnt to do without me by this. At least--I hope you have--for your +own sake." + +He made no comment on the words; perhaps he did not hear them. After a +brief silence she heard his voice above her bowed head. "Something is +wrong. You'll tell me presently, won't you? But--really you needn't be +afraid." + +Something in the words--was it a hint of tenderness?--renewed her +failing strength. She commanded herself and raised her head. She +scarcely recognised in the steady, square-chinned man before her +the impulsive, round-faced boy she had left. There was something +unfathomable about him, a hint of greatness that affected her +strangely. + +"Yes," she said. "Something is wrong. It is what I am here for--what I +have come to tell you. And when it is over, I'm going away--I'm going +away--out of your life--for ever, this time." + +His jaw hardened, but he said nothing whatever. He stood waiting for +her to continue. + +She rose slowly to her feet though she was scarcely capable of +standing. She had come to the last ounce of her strength, but she +spent it bravely. + +"Will," she said, and though her voice shook uncontrollably every word +was clear, "I hardly know how to say it. You have always trusted me, +always been true to me. I think--once--you almost worshipped me. But +you'll never worship me any more, because--because--I am unworthy of +you. Do you understand? I was held back from the final wickedness, +or--or I shouldn't be here now. But the sin was there in my heart. +Heaven help me, it is there still. There! I have told you. It--was +your right. I don't ask for mercy or forgiveness. Only punish +me--punish me--and then--let me--go!" + +Voice and strength failed together. Her limbs doubled under her, +and she sank suddenly down at his feet, sobbing--terrible, painful, +tearless sobs that seemed to rend her very being. + +Without a word he stooped and lifted her. He was white to the lips, +but there was no hesitancy about him. He acted instantly and decidedly +as a man quite sure of himself. + +He carried her to the old _charpoy_ by the window and laid her down. + +Many minutes later, when her anguish had a little spent itself, she +realised that he was kneeling beside her, holding her pressed against +his heart. Through all the bitter chaos of her misery and her shame +there came to her the touch of his hand upon her head. + +It amazed her--it thrilled her, that touch of his; in a fashion it +awed her. She kept her face hidden from him; she could not look up. +But he did not seek to see her face. He only kept his hand upon her +throbbing temple till she grew still against his breast. + +Then at length, his voice slow and deep and very steady, he spoke. +"Daisy, we will never speak of this again." + +She gave a great start. Pity, even a certain measure of kindness, +she had almost begun to expect; but not this--not this! She made a +movement to draw herself away from him, but he would not suffer it. He +only held her closer. + +"Oh, don't, Will, don't!" she implored him brokenly. "For your own +sake--let me go!" + +"For my own sake, Daisy," he answered quietly,--"and for yours, since +you have come to me, I will never let you go again." + +"But you can't want me," she insisted piteously. "Don't be generous, +Will. I can't bear it. Anything but that! I would rather you cursed +me--indeed--indeed!" + +His hand restrained her, silenced her. "Hush!" he said. "You are my +wife. I love you, and I want you." + +Tears came to her then with a rush, blinding, burning, overwhelming, +and yet their very agony was relief to her. She made no further +effort to loosen his hold. She even feebly clung to him as one needing +support. + +"Ah, but I must tell you--I must tell you," she whispered at last. +"If--if you mean to forgive me, you must know--everything." + +"Tell me, if it helps you," he answered, and he spoke with the +splendid patience that twenty weary months had wrought in him. "Only +believe--before you begin--that I have forgiven you. For--before +God--it is the truth." + +And so presently, lying in his arms, her face hidden low on his +breast, she told him all, suppressing nothing, extenuating nothing, +simply pouring out the whole bitter story, sometimes halting, +sometimes incoherent, but never wavering in her purpose, till, like +an evil growth that yet clung about her palpitating heart, her sin lay +bare before him--the sin of a woman who had almost forgotten that Love +is a holy thing. + +He heard her to the end with scarcely a word, and when she had +finished he made one comment only. + +"And so you gave him up." + +She shivered with the pain of that memory. "Yes, I gave him up--I +gave him up. Nick had made me see the hopelessness of it all--the +wickedness. And he--he let me go. He saw it too--at least he +understood. And on that very night--oh, Will, that awful night--he +went to his death." + +His arms grew closer about her. "My poor girl!" he said. + +"Ah, but you shouldn't!" she sobbed. "You shouldn't! You ought to hate +me--to despise me." + +"Hush!" he said again. And she knew that with that one word he +resolutely turned his back upon the gulf that had opened between them +during those twenty months--that gulf that his love had been great +enough to bridge--and that he took her with him, bruised and broken +and storm-tossed as she was, into a very sheltered place. + +When presently he turned her face up to his own and gravely kissed her +she clung to his neck like a tired child, no longer fearing to meet +his look, only thankful for the comfort of his arms. + +For a while longer he held her silently, then very quietly he began +to question her about her journey. Had she told him that she had been +putting up at the dak-bungalow? + +"Oh, only for a few hours," she answered. "We arrived this evening, +Nick and I." + +"Nick!" he said. "And you left him behind?" + +"He is waiting to take me back," she murmured, her face hidden against +his shoulder. + +Again, very tenderly, his hand pressed her forehead. "He must come to +us, eh, dear? I will sent the _khit_ down with a note presently. But +you are tired out, and must rest. Lie here while I go and tell Sammy +to make ready." + +It was when he came back to her that she began to see wherein lay the +change in him that had so struck her. + +From her cushions she looked up at him, piteously smiling. "How thin +you are, Will! And you are getting quite a scholarly stoop." + +"Ah, that's India," he said. + +But she knew that it was not India at all, and her face told him so, +though he affected not to see it. + +He bent over her. "Now, Daisy, I am going to carry you to bed as I +used--do you remember?--at Simla, after the baby came. Dear little +chap! Do you remember how he used to smile in his sleep?" + +His voice was hushed, as though he stood once more beside the tiny +cot. + +She sat up, yielding herself to his arms. "Oh, Will," she said, with a +great sob, "if only he had lived!" + +He held her closely, and lying against his breast she felt the sigh he +stifled. His lips were upon the silvered hair. + +"Perhaps--some day--Daisy," he said, under his breath. + +And she, clinging to him, whispered back through her tears, "Oh, +Will,--I do hope so." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII + +IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP + + +It was very hot down on the buzzing race-course, almost intolerably +so in the opinion of the girl who sat in Lady Bassett's +elegantly-appointed carriage, and looked out with the indifference of +boredom upon the sweltering crowds. + +"Dear child, don't look so freezingly aloof!" she had been entreated +more than once; and each time the soft injunction had reached her the +wide dark eyes had taken to themselves a more utter disdain. + +If she looked freezing, she was far from feeling it, for the hot +weather was at its height, and Ghawalkhand, though healthy, was not +the coolest spot in the Indian Empire. Sir Reginald Bassett had been +appointed British Resident, to act as adviser to the young rajah +thereof, and there had been no question of a flitting to Simla that +year. Lady Bassett had deplored this, but Muriel rejoiced. She never +wanted to see Simla again. + +Life was a horrible emptiness to her in those days. She was weary +beyond expression, and had no heart for the gaieties in which she was +plunged. Idle compliments had never attracted her, and flirtations +were an abomination to her. She looked through and beyond them with +the eyes of a sphinx. But there were very few who suspected the +intolerable ache that throbbed unceasingly behind her impassivity--the +loneliness of spirit that oppressed her like a crushing, physical +weight. + +Even Bobby Fraser, who saw most things, could scarcely have been aware +of this; yet certainly it was not the vivacity of her conversation +that induced him to seek her out as he generally did when he saw +her sitting apart. A very cheery bachelor was Bobby Fraser, and a +tremendous favourite wherever he went. He was a wonderful organizer, +and he invariably had a hand in anything of an entertaining nature +that was going forward. + +He had just brought her tea, and was waiting beside her while she +drank it. Lady Bassett had left the carriage for the paddock, and +Muriel sat alone. + +Had she had anything on the last race, he wanted to know? Muriel had +not. He had, and was practically ruined in consequence--a calamity +which in no way seemed to affect his spirits. + +"Who would have expected a rank outsider like that to walk over the +course? Ought to have been disqualified for sheer cheek. Reminds me +of a chap I once knew--forget his name--Nick something or other--who +entered at the last minute for the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura. Did +it for a bet, they said. It's years ago now. The horse was a perfect +brute--all bone and no flesh--with a temper like the foul fiend and +no points whatever--looked a regular crock at starting. But he romped +home on three legs, notwithstanding, with his jockey clinging to him +like an inspired monkey. It was the only race he ever won. Every one +put it down to black magic or personal magnetism on the part of his +rider. Same thing, I believe. He was the sort of chap who always comes +out on top. Rum thing I can't remember his name. I had travelled out +with him on the same boat once too. Have some more tea." + +This was a specimen of most of Bobby Fraser's conversation. He was +brimful of anecdotes. They flowed as easily as water from a fountain. +Their source seemed inexhaustible. He never repeated himself to the +same person. + +Muriel declined his offer of more tea. For some reason she wanted to +hear more of the man who had won the Great Mogul's Cup at Sharapura. + +Bobby was more than willing to oblige. "Oh, it was sheer cheek that +carried him through, of course. I always said he was the cheekiest +beggar under the sun--quite a little chap he was, hideously ugly, +with a face like a baked apple, and eyes that made you think of a +cinematograph. You know the sort of thing. I used to think he had a +future before him, but he seems to have dropped out. He was only +about twenty when I had him for a stable-companion. I remember one +outrageous thing he did on the voyage out. There was card-playing +going on in the saloon one night, and he was looking on. One of the +lady-players--well, I suppose I may as well call it by its name--one +of them cheated. He detected it. Beastly position, of course. Don't +know what I should have done under the circumstances, but anyhow he +wasn't at a loss. He simply lighted a cigarette and set fire to the +lady's dress." + +Muriel's exclamation of horror was ample testimony to the fact that +her keenest interest was aroused. + +"Yes, awfully risky, wasn't it?" said Bobby. "We only thought at the +time he had been abominably careless. I did not hear the rights of the +case till afterwards, and then not from him. There was a fine flareup, +of course--card-table overturned--ladies in hysterics--in the middle +of the fray our gallant hero extinguishing the flames with his bare +hands. He was profusely apologetic and rather badly scorched. The lady +took very little harm, except to her nerves and her temper. She cut +him dead for the rest of the voyage, but I don't think it depressed +him much. He was the sort of fellow that never gets depressed. Hullo! +There's Mrs. Philpot making violent signs. I suppose I had better go +and see what she wants, or be dropped for evermore. Good-bye!" + +He smiled upon her and departed, leaving her thoughtful, with a +certain wistful wonder in her eyes. + +Lady Bassett's return interrupted her reverie. "You have had some tea, +I hope, dear? Ah, I thought Mr. Bobby Fraser was making his way in +this direction. So sweet of him not to forget you when he has so many +other calls upon his attention. And how are you faring for to-night? +Is your programme full yet? I have literally not one dance left." + +Lady Bassett had deemed it advisable to ignore the fact of Muriel's +brief engagement to Captain Grange since the girl's return to India. +She knew, as did her husband, that it had come to an end before +Grange's death, but she withheld all comment upon it. Her one desire +was to get the dear child married without delay, and she was +not backward in letting her know it. Life at Ghawalkhand was one +continuous round of gaiety, and she had every opportunity for +forwarding her scheme. Though she deplored Muriel's unresponsiveness, +she yet did not despair. It was sheer affectation on the girl's part, +she would tell herself, and would soon pass. And after all, that +queenly, aloof air had a charm that was all its own. It might not +attract the many, but she had begun to fancy of late that Bobby Fraser +had felt its influence. He was not in the least the sort of man +she would have expected to do so, but there was no accounting for +taste--masculine taste especially. And it would be an excellent thing +for Muriel. + +She was therefore being particularly gracious to her young charge just +then--a state of affairs which Muriel endured rather than appreciated. +She would never feel at her ease with Lady Bassett as long as she +lived. + +She was glad when they drove away at length, for she wanted to be +alone. Those anecdotes of Bobby's had affected her strangely. She had +felt so completely cut off of late from all things connected with the +past. No one ever mentioned Nick to her now--not even her faithful +correspondent Olga. Meteor-like, he had flashed through her sky and +disappeared; leaving a burning, ineradicable trail behind him, it is +true, but none the less was he gone. She had not the faintest idea +where he was. She would have given all she had to know, yet could not +bring herself to ask. It seemed highly improbable that he would ever +cross her path again, and she knew she ought to be glad of this; yet +no gladness ever warmed her heart. And now here was a man who had +known him, who had told her of exploits new to her knowledge yet how +strangely familiar to her understanding, who had at a touch brought +before her the weird personality that her imagination sometimes +strove in vain to summon. She could have sat and listened to Bobby's +reminiscences for hours. The bare mention of Nick's name had made her +blood run faster. + +Lady Bassett did not trouble her to converse during the drive back, +ascribing to her evident desire for silence a reason which Muriel was +too absent to suspect. But when the girl roused herself to throw a +couple of annas to an old beggar who was crouched against the entrance +to the Residency grounds she could not resist giving utterance to a +gentle expostulation. + +"I wish you would not encourage these people, dearest. They are so +extremely undesirable, and there is so much unrest in the State just +now that I cannot but regard them with anxiety." + +Muriel murmured an apology, with the inward reservation to bestow her +alms next time when Lady Bassett was not looking on. + +She found a letter lying on her table when she entered her room, +and took it up listlessly, without much interest. Her mind was +still running on those two anecdotes with which Bobby Fraser had so +successfully enlivened her boredom. The writing on the envelope was +vaguely familiar to her, but she did not associate it with anything +of importance. Absently she opened it, half reluctant to recall her +wandering thoughts. It came from a Hill station in Bengal, but that +told her nothing. She turned to the signature. + +The next instant she had turned back again to the beginning, and was +reading eagerly. Her correspondent was Will Musgrave. + + "Dear Miss Roscoe,"--ran the letter. "After long consideration + I have decided to write and beg of you a favour which I fancy + you will grant more readily than I venture to ask. My wife, as + you probably know, joined me some months ago. She is in very + indifferent health, and has expressed a most earnest wish to + see you. I believe there is something which she wishes to + tell you--something that weighs upon her heavily; and though + I trust that all will go well with her, I cannot help feeling + that she would stand a much better chance of this if only her + mind could be set at rest. I know I am asking a big thing + of you, for the journey is a ghastly one at this time of the + year, but if of your goodness you can bring yourself to face + it, I will myself meet you and escort you across the Plains. + Will you think the matter carefully over? And perhaps you + would wire a reply. + + "I have written without Daisy's knowledge, as she seems + to feel that she has forfeited the right to your + friendship.--Sincerely yours, + + "W. MUSGRAVE." + +Muriel's reply was despatched that evening, almost before she had +fully read the appeal. + +"Starting to-morrow," was all she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII + +THE HEALING OF THE BREACH + + +Lady Bassett considered the decision deplorably headlong, and said +so; but her remonstrances were of no avail. Muriel tossed aside her +listlessness as resolutely as the ball-dress that had been laid out +for the evening's festivity, and plunged at once into preparations for +her journey. She knew full well that it was of no actual importance +to Lady Bassett whether she went or stayed, and she did not pretend to +think otherwise. Moreover, no power on earth would have kept her away +from Daisy now that she knew herself to be wanted. + +Though more than half of the three days' journey lay across the +sweltering Plains, she contemplated it without anxiety, even with +rejoicing. At last, the breach, over which she had secretly mourned so +deeply, was to be healed. + +The next morning at an early hour she was upon her way. She looked +out as she drove through the gates for the old native beggar who had +crouched at the entrance on the previous afternoon. He was not there, +but a little way further she met him hobbling along to take up his +post for the day. From the folds of his chuddah his unkempt beard +wagged entreaty at the carriage as it passed. Impulsively, because of +the gladness that was so new to her lonely heart, she leaned from the +window and threw him a rupee. + +Looking back upon the journey later, she never remembered its tedium. +She was as one borne on the wings of love, and she scarcely noticed +the hardships of the way. + +Will Musgrave met her according to his promise at the great junction +in the Plains. She found him exceedingly solicitous for her welfare, +but so grave and silent that she hardly liked to question him. He +thanked her very earnestly for coming, said that Daisy was about the +same, and then left her almost exclusively to the society of her ayah. + +The heat in the Plains was terrific, but Muriel's courage never +wavered. She endured it with unfaltering resolution, hour after hour +reckoning the dwindling miles that lay before them, passing over +all personal discomfort as of no account, content only to be going +forward. + +But they left the Plains behind at last, and then came to the welcome +ascent to the Hill station through a country where pine-trees grew +ever more and more abundant. + +At length at the close of a splendid day they reached it, and as they +were nearing their destination Will broke through his silence. + +"She doesn't know even yet that you are coming," he said. "I thought +the suspense of waiting for you might be bad for her. Miss Roscoe--in +heaven's name--make her happy if you can!" + +There was such a passion of entreaty in his voice that Muriel was +deeply touched. She gave him her hand impulsively. + +"Mr. Musgrave," she said, "to this day I do not know what it was that +came between us, but I promise--I promise--that if any effort of mine +can remove it, it shall be removed to-night." + +Will Musgrave squeezed her fingers hard. "God bless you!" he said +earnestly. + +And with that he left her, and went on ahead to prepare Daisy for her +coming. + +All her life Muriel remembered Daisy's welcome of that evening with +a thrill of pain. They met at the gate of the little compound that +surrounded the bungalow Will had taken for his wife, and though the +light of the sinking sun smote with a certain ruddiness upon Daisy, +Muriel was unspeakably shocked by her appearance. + +Her white hair, her deathly pallor, the haunting misery of her +eyes--above all, her silence--went straight to the girl's heart. +Without a single word she gathered Daisy close in her warm young arms +and so held her in a long and speechless embrace. + +After all, it was Daisy who spoke first, gently drawing herself away. +"Come in, darling! You must be nearly dead after your awful journey. +I can't think how Will could ask it of you at this time of the year. I +couldn't myself." + +"I would have come to you from the world's end--and gladly," Muriel +answered, in her deep voice. "You know I would." + +And that was all that passed between them, for Will was present, and +Daisy had already begun to lead her guest into the house. + +As the evening wore on, Muriel was more and more struck by the great +change she saw in her. They had not met for ten months, but twice +as many years seemed to have passed over Daisy, crushing her beneath +their weight. All her old sprightliness had vanished utterly. She +spoke but little, and there was in her manner to her husband a wistful +humility, a submission so absolute, that Muriel, remembering her +ancient spirit, could have wept. + +Will looked at her as if he longed to say something when she bade him +good-night, but Daisy was beside her, and he could only give her a +tremendous handgrip. + +They went away together, and Daisy accompanied her to her room. But +the wall of reserve that had been built up between them was not to be +shattered at a touch. Neither of them knew exactly how to approach +it. There was no awkwardness between them, there was no lack of +tenderness, but the door that had closed so long ago was hard to +open. Daisy seemed to avoid it with a morbid dread, and it was not in +Muriel's power to make the first move. + +So for awhile they lingered together, talking commonplaces, and at +length parted for the night, holding each other closely, without +words. + +It seemed evident that Daisy could not bring herself to speak at +present, and Muriel went to bed with a heavy heart. + +She was far too weary to lie awake, but her tired brain would not +rest. For the first time in many dreary months she dreamed of Nick. + +He was jeering at her in devilish jubilation because she had changed +her mind about marrying him, but lacked the courage to tell him so. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX + +THE LOWERING OF THE FLAG + + +The night was very far advanced when Muriel was aroused from her +dreams by a sound which she drowsily fancied must have been going on +for some time. It did not disturb her very seriously at first; she +even subconsciously made an effort to ignore it. But at length a +sudden stab of understanding pierced her sleep-laden senses, and in a +moment she started up broad awake. Some one was in the room with her. +Through the dumb stillness before the dawn there came the sound of +bitter weeping. + +For a few seconds she sat motionless, startled, bewildered, half +afraid. The room was in nearly total darkness. Only in dimmest +outline could she discern the long French window that opened upon the +verandah. + +The weeping continued. It was half smothered, but it sounded agonised. +A great wave of compassion swept suddenly over Muriel. All in a moment +she understood. + +Swiftly she leaned forward into the darkness, feeling outwards till +her groping hands touched a figure that crouched beside the bed. + +"Daisy! Daisy, my darling!" she said, and there was anguish in her own +voice. "What is it?" + +In a second the sobbing ceased as if some magic had silenced it. +Two hands reached up out of the darkness and tightly clasped hers. A +broken voice whispered her name. + +"What is it?" Muriel repeated in growing distress. + +"Hush, dear, hush!" the trembling voice implored. "Don't let Will +hear! It worries him so." + +"But, my darling,--" Muriel protested. + +She began to feel for some matches, but again the nervous hands caught +and imprisoned hers. + +"Don't--please!" Daisy begged her earnestly. "I--I have something to +tell you--something that will shock you unutterably. And I--I don't +want you to see my face." + +She resisted Muriel's attempt to put her arms about her. "No--no, +dear! Hear me first. There! Let me kneel beside you. It will not +take me long. It isn't just for my own sake I am going to speak, +nor yet--entirely--for yours. You will see presently. Don't ask me +anything--please--till I have done. And then if--if there is anything +you want to know, I will try to tell you." + +"Come and lie beside me," Muriel urged. + +But Daisy would not. She had sunk very low beside the bed. For a while +she crouched there in silence while she summoned her strength. + +Then, "Oh, Muriel," she suddenly said, and the words seemed to burst +from her with a great sigh, "I wonder if you ever really loved Blake." + +"No, dear, I never did." Muriel's answer came quiet and sincere +through the darkness. "Nor did he love me. Our engagement was a +mistake. I was going to tell him so--if things had been different." + +"I never thought you cared for him," Daisy said. "But oh, Muriel, +I did. I loved him with my whole soul. No, don't start! It is over +now--at least that part of it that was sinful. I only tell you of +it because it is the key to everything that must have puzzled you +so horribly all this time. We always loved each other from the very +beginning, but our people wouldn't hear of it because we were cousins. +And so we separated and I used to think that I had put it away from +me. But--last summer--it all came back. You mustn't blame him, Muriel. +Blame me--blame me!" The thin hands tightened convulsively. "It was +when my baby died that I began to give way. We never meant it--either +of us--but we didn't fight hard enough. And then at last--at +Brethaven--Nick found it out; and it was because he knew that Blake's +heart was not in his compact with you that he made him write to you +and break it off. It was not for his own ends at all that he did it. +It was for your sake alone. He even swore to Blake that if he would +put an end to his engagement, he on his part would give up all idea +of winning you and would never trouble you any more. And that was the +finest thing he ever did, Muriel, for he never loved any one but you. +Surely you know it. You must know it by this time. You have never +understood him, but you must have begun to realise that he has loved +you well enough to set your happiness and well-being always far, far +before his own." + +Daisy paused. Her weeping had wholly ceased, but she was shivering +from head to foot. + +Muriel sat in silence above her, watching wide-eyed, unseeing, +the vague hint of light at the open window. She was beginning to +understand many things--ah, many things--that had been as a sealed +book to her till then. + +After a time Daisy went on. "No one will ever know what Nick was to me +at that time, how he showed me the wickedness of it all, how he held +me back from taking the final step, making me realise--even against +my will--that Love--true Love--is holy, conquering all evil. And +afterwards--afterwards--when Blake was gone--he stood by me and helped +me to live, and brought me back at last to my husband. I could never +have done it alone. I hadn't the strength. You see"--the low voice +faltered suddenly--"I never expected Will to forgive me. I never asked +it of him--any more than I am asking it of you." + +"Oh, my darling, there is no need!" Muriel turned suddenly to throw +impetuous arms about the huddled figure at her side. "Daisy! Daisy! I +love you. Let us forget there has ever been this thing between us. Let +us be as we used to be, and never drift apart again." + +Tenderly but insistently, she lifted Daisy to the bed beside her, +holding her fast. The wall between them was broken down at last. They +clung together as sisters long parted. + +Daisy, spent by the violence of her emotion, lay for a long time in +Muriel's arms without attempting anything further. But at length with +a palpable effort she began to speak of other things. + +"You know, I have a feeling--perhaps it is morbid--that I am not going +to live. I am sure Will thinks so too. If I die, Muriel,--three months +from now--you and Nick must help him all you can." + +"You are not going to die," Muriel asserted vehemently. "You are not +to talk of dying, or think of it. Oh, Daisy, can't you look forward to +the better time that is coming--when you will have something to live +for? And won't you try to think more of Will? It would break his heart +to lose you." + +"I do think of him," Daisy said wearily. "I would do anything to make +him happier. But I can't look forward. I am so tired--so tired." + +"You will feel differently by-and-by," Muriel whispered. + +"Perhaps," she assented. "I don't know. I don't feel as if I shall +ever hold another child in my arms. God knows I don't deserve it." + +"Do you think He looks at it in that way?" murmured Muriel, her arms +tightening. "There wouldn't be much in life for any of us if He did." + +"I don't know," Daisy said again. + +She lay quiet for a little as though pondering something. Then at +length hesitatingly she spoke. "Muriel, there is one thing that +whether I live or whether I die I want with my whole heart. May I tell +you what it is?" + +"Of course, dear. What is it?" + +Daisy turned in her arms, holding her in a clasp that was passionate. +"My darling," she whispered very earnestly, "I would give all I have +in the world to know you happy with--with the man you love." + +Silence followed the words. Muriel had become suddenly quite still; +her head was bent. + +"Don't--don't bar me out of your confidence," Daisy implored +her tremulously. "There is so little left for me to do now. +Muriel--dearest--you do love him?" + +Muriel moved impulsively, hiding her face in her friend's neck. But +she said no word in answer. + +Daisy went on softly, as though she had spoken. "He is still waiting +for you. I think he will wait all his life, though he will never come +to you again unless you call him. Won't you--can't you--send him just +one little word?" + +"How can I?" The words broke suddenly from Muriel as though she could +no longer restrain them. "How can I possibly?" + +"It could be done," Daisy said. "I know he is still somewhere in India +though he has left the Army. We could get a message to him at any +time." + +"Oh, but I couldn't--I couldn't!" Muriel had begun to tremble +violently. There was a sound of tears in her deep voice. "Besides--he +wouldn't come." + +"My dear, he would," Daisy assured her. "He would come to you directly +if he only knew that you wanted him. Muriel, surely you are not--not +too proud to let him know!" + +"Proud! Oh, no, no!" There was almost a moan in the words. Muriel's +head sank a little lower. "Heaven knows I'm not proud," she said. +"I am ashamed--miserably ashamed. I have trampled on his love so +often--so often. How could I ask him for it--now?" + +"Ah, but if he came to you," Daisy persisted, "if in spite of all he +came to you, you wouldn't send him away?" + +"Send him away!" A sudden note of passion thrilled in Muriel's voice. +She lifted her head sharply. With the tears upon her cheeks she yet +spoke with a certain exultation. "I--I would follow him barefoot +across the world," she said, "if--if he would only lift one finger +to call me. But oh, Daisy,"--her confidence vanished at a +breath--"where's the use of talking? He never, never will." + +"He will if you let him know," Daisy answered with conviction. "Don't +you think you can, dear? Give me just one word for him--one tiny +message that he will understand. Only trust him this once--just this +once! Give him his opportunity--he has never had one before, poor +boy--and I know, I know, he will not throw it away." + +"You don't think he will--laugh?" Muriel whispered. + +"My dear child, no! Nick doesn't laugh at sacred things." + +Muriel's face was burning in the darkness. She covered it with her +hands as though it could be seen. + +For a few seconds she sat very still. Then slowly but steadily she +spoke. + +"Tell him then, Daisy, from me, that 'Love conquers all things--and we +must yield to Love.'" + + + + +CHAPTER L + +EREBUS + + +Not another word passed between Daisy and Muriel upon the subject of +that night's confidences. There seemed nothing further to be said. +Moreover, there was between them a closer understanding than words +could compass. + +The days that followed passed very peacefully, and Daisy began to +improve so marvellously in health and spirits that both her +husband and her guest caught at times fleeting glimpses of the old +light-hearted personality that they had loved in earlier days. + +"You have done wonders for my wife," Will said one day to Muriel. And +though she disclaimed all credit, she could not fail to see a very +marked improvement. + +She herself was feeling unaccountably happy in those days, as though +somewhere deep down in her heart a bird had begun to sing. Again and +again she told herself that she had no cause for gladness; but again +and yet again that sweet, elusive music filled her soul. + +She would have gladly stayed on with Daisy, seeing how the latter +clung to her, for an indefinite period; but this was not to be. + +Daisy came out on to the verandah one morning with a letter in her +hand. + +"My dear," she said, "I regret to say that, I must part with you. +I have had a most touching epistle from Lady Bassett, describing at +length your many wasted opportunities, and urging me to return you to +the fold with all speed. It seems there is to be a State Ball at the +palace--an immense affair to which the Rajah is inviting all the big +guns for miles around--and Lady Bassett thinks that her dear child +ought not to miss such a gorgeous occasion. She seems to think that +something of importance depends upon it, and hints that I should be +almost criminally selfish to deprive you of such a treat as this will +be." + +Muriel lifted a flushed face from a letter of her own. "I have heard +from Sir Reginald," she said. "Evidently she has made him write. I +can't think why, for she never wants me when I am with her. I don't +see why I should go, do you? After all, I am of age and independent." + +A very tender smile touched Daisy's lips. "I think you had better go, +darling," she said. + +Muriel opened her eyes wide. "But why--" + +Daisy checked the question half uttered. "I think it will be better +for you. I never meant to let you stay till the rains, so it makes +little more than a week's difference. It sounds as if I want to be +rid of you, doesn't it? But you know it isn't that. I shall miss you +horribly, but you have done what you came to do, and I shall get on +all right now. So I am not going to keep you with me any longer. My +reasons are not Lady Bassett's reasons, but all the same it would be +selfish of me to let you stay. Later on perhaps--in the winter--you +will come and make a long stay; spend Christmas with us, and we will +have some real fun, shall we, Will?" turning to her husband who had +just appeared. + +He stared for an instant as if he thought he had not heard aright, and +there was to Muriel something infinitely pathetic in the way his brown +hand touched his wife's shoulder as he passed her and made reply. + +"Oh, rather!" he said. "We'll have a regular jollification with as +many old friends as we can collect. Don't forget, Miss Roscoe! You are +booked first and foremost, and we shall keep you to it, Daisy and I." + +Two days later Muriel was on her way back to Ghawalkhand. She found +the heat of the journey almost insupportable. The Plains lay under a +burning pall of cloud, and at night the rolling thunder was incessant. +But no rain fell to ease the smothering oppression of the atmosphere. + +She almost fainted one evening, but Will was with her and she never +forgot his kindly ministrations. + +A few hours' journey from Ghawalkhand Sir Reginald himself met her, +and here she parted with Will with renewed promises of a future +meeting towards the end of the year. + +Sir Reginald fussed over her kind-heartedly, hoped she had enjoyed +herself, thought she looked very thin, and declared that his wife was +looking forward with much pleasure to her return. The State was +still somewhat unsettled, there had been one or two outrages of late, +nothing serious, of course, but the native element was restless, and +he fancied Lady Bassett was nervous. + +She was away at a polo-match when they arrived, and Muriel profited by +her absence and went straight to bed. + +She could have slept for hours had she been permitted to do so, but +Lady Bassett, returning, awoke her to receive her welcome. She was +charmed to have her back, she declared, though shocked to see her +looking so wan, "so almost plain, dear child, if one may take the +liberty of an old friend to tell you so." + +Neither the crooked smile that accompanied this gentle criticism +nor the decidedly grim laugh with which it was received, was of a +particularly friendly nature; but these facts were not extraordinary. +There had never been the smallest hint of sympathy between them. + +"I trust you will be looking much better than this two nights hence," +Lady Bassett proceeded in her soft accents. "The Rajah's ball is to +be very magnificent, quite dazzlingly so from all accounts. Mr. +Bobby Fraser is of course behind the scenes, and he tells me that the +preparations in progress are simply gigantic. By the way, dear, it is +to be hoped that your absence has not damaged your prospects in +that quarter. I have been afraid lately that he was transferring his +allegiance to the second Egerton girl. I hope earnestly that there is +nothing in it, for you know how I have your happiness at heart, do you +not? And it would be such an excellent thing for you, dear child, as +I expect you realise. For you know, you look so much older than +you actually are that you really ought not to throw away any more +opportunities. Every girl thinks she must have her fling, but you, +dear, should soberly think of getting settled soon. You would not like +to get left, I feel sure." + +At this point Muriel sat up suddenly, her dark eyes very bright, and +in brief tones announced that so far as she was concerned the second +Egerton girl was more than welcome to Mr. Fraser and she hoped, if she +wanted him, she would manage to keep him. + +It was crudely expressed, as Lady Bassett pointed out with a sigh for +her waywardness; but Muriel always was crude when her deeper feelings +were disturbed, and physical fatigue had made her irritable. + +She wished ardently that Lady Bassett would leave her, but Lady +Bassett had not quite done. She lingered to ask for news of poor +little Daisy Musgrave. Had she yet fully recovered from the shock of +her cousin's tragic death? Could she bear to speak of him? She, +Lady Bassett, had always suspected the existence of an unfortunate +attachment between them. + +Muriel had no information to bestow upon the subject. She hoped and +believed that Daisy was getting stronger, and had promised, all being +well, to spend Christmas with her. + +Lady Bassett shook her head over this declaration. The dear child +was so headlong. Much might happen before Christmas. And what of +Mr. Ratcliffe--this was on her way to the door--had she heard the +extraordinary, the really astounding news concerning him that had just +reached Lady Bassett's ears? She asked because he and Mrs. Musgrave +used to be such friends, though to be sure Mr. Ratcliffe seemed to +have thrown off all his old friends of late. Had Muriel actually not +heard? + +"Heard! Heard what?" Muriel forced out the question from between +lips that were white and stiff. She was suddenly afraid--horribly, +unspeakably afraid. But she kept her eyes unflinchingly upon Lady +Bassett's face. She would sooner die than quail in her presence. + +Lady Bassett, holding the door-handle, looked back at her, faintly +smiling. "I wonder you have not heard, dear. I thought you were in +correspondence with his people. But perhaps they also are in the dark. +It is a most unheard-of thing--quite irrevocable I am told. But I +always felt that he was a man to do unusual things. There was always +to my mind something uncanny, abnormal, something almost superhuman, +about him." + +"But what has happened to him?" Muriel did not know how she uttered +the words; they seemed to come without her own volition. She was +conscious of a choking sensation within her as though iron bands +were tightening about her heart. It beat in leaps and bounds like a +tortured thing striving to escape. But through it all she sat quite +motionless, her eyes fixed upon Lady Bassett's face, noting its faint, +wry smile, as the eyes of a prisoner on the rack might note the grim +lines on the face of the torturer. + +"My dear," Lady Bassett said, "he has gone into a Buddhist monastery +in Tibet." + +Calmly the words fell through smiling lips. Only words! Only words! +But with how deadly a thrust they pierced the heart of the woman +who heard them none but herself would ever know. She gave no sign of +suffering. She only stared wide-eyed before her as an image, devoid of +expression, inanimate, sphinx-like, while that awful constriction grew +straiter round her heart. + +Lady Bassett was already turning to go when the deep voice arrested +her. + +"Who told you this?" + +She looked back, holding the open door. "I scarcely know who first +mentioned it. I have heard it from so many people,--in fact the news +is general property--Captain Gresham of the Guides told me for one. He +has just gone back to Peshawur. The news reached him, I believe, from +there. Then there was Colonel Cathcart for another. He was talking of +it only this afternoon at the Club, saying what a deplorable example +it was for an Englishman to set. He and Mr. Bobby Fraser had quite a +hot argument about it. Mr. Fraser has such advanced ideas, but I must +admit that I rather admire the staunch way in which he defends them. +There, dear child! You must not keep me gossiping any longer. You look +positively haggard. I earnestly hope a good sleep will restore you, +for I cannot possibly take that wan face to the Rajah's ball'." + +Lady Bassett departed with the words, shaking her head tolerantly and +still smiling. + +But for long after she had gone, Muriel remained with fixed eyes and +tense muscles, watching, watching, dumbly, immovably, despairingly, at +the locked door of her paradise. + +So this was the key to his silence--the reason that her message had +gone unanswered. She had stretched out her hands to him too late--too +late. + +And ever through the barren desert of her vigil a man's voice, vital +and passionate, rang and echoed in a maddening, perpetual refrain. + +"All your life you will remember that I was once yours to take or to +throw away. And--you wanted me, yet--you chose to throw me away." + +It was a refrain she had heard often and often before; but it had +never tortured her as it tortured her now,--now when her last hope was +finally quenched--now when at last she fully realised what it was that +had once been hers, and that in her tragic blindness she had wantonly +cast away. + + + + +CHAPTER LI + +THE BIRD OF PARADISE + + +Muriel did not leave the Residency again until the evening of the +State Ball at the palace. Scarcely did she leave her room, pleading +intense fatigue as her excuse for this seclusion. But she could not +without exciting remark, absent herself from the great function for +which ostensibly she had returned to Ghawalkhand. + +She wore a dress of unrelieved white for the occasion, for she had +but recently discarded her mourning for her father, and her face was +almost as devoid of colour. Her dark hair lay in a shadowy mass above +her forehead, accentuating her pallor. Her eyes looked out upon the +world with tragic indifference, unexpectant, apathetic. + +"My dear, you don't look well," said Sir Reginald, as, gorgeous in +his glittering uniform, he stood to hand her after his wife into the +carriage. + +She smiled a little. "It is nothing. I am still rather tired, that's +all." + +Driving through the gates she looked forth absently and spied the old +beggar crouching in his accustomed place. He almost prostrated himself +at sight of her, but she had no money with her, nor could she have +bestowed any under Lady Bassett's disapproving eye. The carriage +rolled on, leaving his obsequiousness unrequited. + +Entering the glittering ballroom all hung with glowing colours was +like entering a garden of splendid flowers. European and Indian +costumes were mingled in shining confusion. A hubbub of music and +laughter seemed to engulf them like a rushing torrent. + +"Ah, here you are at last!" It was Bobby Fraser's voice at Muriel's +side. He looked at her with cheery approval. "I say, you know, you're +the queen of this gathering. Pity there isn't a king anywhere about. +Perhaps there is, eh? Well, can you give me a dance? Afraid I haven't +a waltz left. No matter! We can sit out. I know a cosy corner exactly +fitted to my tastes. In fact I've booked it for the evening. And I +want a talk with you badly. Number five then. Good-bye!" + +He was gone, leaving Muriel with the curious impression that there +really was something of importance that he wished to say to her. + +She wondered what it was. That he was paying her serious attention she +had never for a moment believed, nor had she given him the faintest +encouragement to do so. She knew that Lady Bassett thought otherwise, +but she had never rated her opinion very highly; and she had never +read anything but the most casual friendliness in Bobby's attitude. + +Still it disturbed her somewhat, that hint of intimacy that his words +portended, and she awaited the dance he had solicited in a state of +mind very nearly allied to apprehension. Lady Bassett's suggestions +had done for her what no self-consciousness would ever have +accomplished unaided. They had implanted within her a deep-rooted +misgiving before which all ease of manner fled. + +When Bobby Fraser joined her, she was so plainly nervous that he could +not fail to remark it. He led her to a quiet corner above the garden +that was sheltered from the throng by flowering tamarisks. + +"I say," he said, "I hope you are not letting yourself get scared +by these infernal budmashes. The reports have all been immensely +exaggerated as usual." + +"I am not at all scared," she told him. "But wasn't there an +Englishman murdered the other day?" + +"Oh, yes," he admitted, "but miles and miles away, right the other +side of the State. There was nothing in that to alarm any one here. +It might have happened anywhere. People are such fools," he threw in +vindictively. "Begin to look askance at the native population, and +of course they are on the _qui vive_ instantly. It is only to be +expected. It was downright madness to send a Resident here. They +resent it, you know. But the Rajah's influence is enormous. Nothing +could happen here." + +"I wonder," said Muriel. + +She had scarcely given the matter a thought before, but it was a +relief to find some impersonal topic for discussion. + +Bobby, however, had no intention of pursuing it further. "Oh, it's +self-evident," he said. "They are loyal to the Rajah, and the Rajah +is well-known to be loyal to the Crown. It's only these duffers of +administrators that make the mischief." He broke into an abrupt laugh, +and changed the subject. "Let us talk of something less exasperating. +How did you get on while you were away? You must have found the +journey across the Plains pretty ghastly." + +She told him a little about it, incidentally mentioning Will Musgrave. + +"Oh, I know him," he broke in. "An engineer, isn't he? Awfully clever +chap. I met him years ago at Sharapura the time Nick Ratcliffe won the +Great Mogul's Cup. I told you that story, didn't I?" + +Yes, he had done so. She informed him of the fact with an immovable +face. It might have been a subject of total indifference to her. + +"You know Nick Ratcliffe, don't you?" he pursued, evidently following +his own train of thought. + +She flushed at the direct question. She had not expected it. "It is +a very long time since I last saw him," she said, with a deliberate +effort to banish all interest from her voice. + +He was not looking at her. He could not have been aware of the flush. +Yet he elected to push the matter further. + +"A queer fish," he said. "A very queer fish. He has lost his left arm, +poor beggar. Did you know?" + +Yes, she knew; but she could hardly summon the strength to tell him +so. Her fan concealed her quivering lips, but the hand that held it +shook uncontrollably. + +But he, still casual, continued his desultory harangue. "Always +reminds one of a jack-in-the-box--that fellow. Has a knack of popping +up when you least expect him. You never know what he will do next. You +can only judge him by the things he doesn't do. For instance, there's +been a rumour floating about lately that he has just gone into a +Tibetan monastery. Heaven knows who started it and why. But it is +absolutely untrue. It is the sort of thing that couldn't be true of a +man of his temperament. Don't you agree with me? Or perhaps you didn't +know him very well, and don't feel qualified to judge." + +At this point he pulled out his programme and studied it frowningly. +He was plainly not paying much attention to her reply. He seemed to be +contemplating something that worried him. + +It made it all the easier for her to answer. "No," she said slowly. "I +didn't know him very well. But--that rumour was told to me as absolute +fact. I--of course--I believed it." + +She knew that her face was burning as she ended. She could feel the +blood surging through every vein. + +"If you want to know what I think," said Bobby Fraser deliberately, +"it is that that rumour was a malicious invention of some one's." + +"Oh, do you?" she said. "But--but why?" + +He turned and looked at her. His usually merry face was stern. +"Because," he said, "it served some one's end to make some one else +believe that Nick had dropped out for good." + +Her eyes fell under his direct look. "I don't understand," she +murmured desperately. + +"Nor do I," he rejoined, "for certain. I can only surmise. It doesn't +do to believe things too readily. One gets let in that way." He rose +and offered her his arm. "Come outside for a little. This place is too +warm for comfort." + +She went with him willingly, thankful to turn her face to the night. A +dozen questions hovered on her lips, but she could not ask him one +of them. She could only walk beside him and profess to listen to +the stream of anecdotes which he began to pour forth for her +entertainment. + +She did not actually hear one of them. They came to her all jumbled +and confused through such a torrent of gladness as surely she had +never known before. For the bird in her heart had lifted its head +again, and was singing its rapture to the stars. + + + + +CHAPTER LII + +A WOMAN'S OFFERING + + +Looking back upon the hours that followed that talk with Bobby behind +the tamarisks, Muriel could never recall in detail how they passed. +She moved in a whirl, all her pulses racing, all her senses on the +alert. None of her partners had ever seen her gay before, but she was +gay that night with a spontaneous and wonderful gaiety that came from +the very heart of her. It was not a gaiety that manifested itself in +words, but it was none the less apparent to those about her. For her +eyes shone as though they looked into a radiant future, and she danced +as one inspired. She was like a statue waked to splendid life. + +Swiftly the hours flew by. She scarcely noted their passage, any more +than she noted the careless talk and laughter that hummed around her. +She moved in an atmosphere of her own to a melody that none other +heard. + +The ball was wearing to a close when at length Lady Bassett summoned +her to return. Lady Bassett was wearing her most gracious smile. + +"You have been much admired to-night, dear child," she murmured to the +girl, as they passed into the cloakroom. + +Muriel's eyes looked disdainful for an instant, but they could not +remain so. As swiftly the happiness flashed back into them. + +"I have enjoyed myself," she said simply. + +She threw a gauzy scarf about her neck, and turned to go. She did not +want her evening spoilt by criticisms however honeyed. + +The great marble entrance was crowded with departing guests. She edged +her way to one of the pillars at the head of the long flight of steps, +watching party after party descend to the waiting carriages. The +dancing had not yet ceased, and strains of waltz-music came to her +where she stood, fitful, alluring, plaintive. They were playing "The +Blue Danube." + +She listened to it as one in a dream, and while she listened the tears +gathered in her eyes. How was it she had been so slow to understand? +Would she ever make it up to him? She wondered how long he meant to +keep her in suspense. It was not like him to linger thus if he had +indeed received her message. She hoped he would come soon. The waiting +was hard to bear. + +She called to mind once more the last words he had spoken to her. +He had said that he would not swoop a second time, but she could +not imagine him doing anything else. He would be sudden, he would be +disconcerting, he would be overwhelming. He would come on winged feet +in answer to her call, but he would give her no quarter. He would +neither ask nor demand. He would simply take. + +She caught her breath and hastened to divert her thought, +realising that she was on the verge of the old torturing process of +self-intimidation which had so often before unnerved her. + +The throng about her had lessened considerably. Glancing downwards, +she discerned at the foot of the steps the old beggar who so +persistently haunted the Residency gates, incurring thereby Lady +Bassett's alarmed displeasure. He was crouching well to one side in +the familiar attitude of supplication. There were dozens like him in +Ghawalkhand, but she knew him by the peculiar, gibbering movement of +the wiry beard that protruded from his chuddah. He was repulsive, but +in a fashion fascinating. He made her think of a wizened old monkey +who had wandered from his kind. + +She had come to regard him almost in the light of a protege, and, +remembering suddenly that he had besought an alms of her in vain some +hours before, she turned impulsively to a man she knew who had just +come up. + +"Colonel Cathcart, will you lend me a rupee?" + +He dived in his pocket and brought out a handful of money. She found +the coin she wanted, thanked him with a smile, and began to descend +the steps. + +The old native was not looking at her. Something else seemed to have +caught his attention. For the moment he had ceased to cringe and +implore. + +She heard Sir Reginald's voice above her. He was standing in talk with +the Rajah while he waited for his wife. + +And then--she was half-way down the steps when it happened--a sudden +loud cry rang fiercely up to her, arresting her where she stood--a +man's voice inarticulate at first, bursting from mere sound into +furious headlong denunciation. + +"You infernal hound!" it cried. "You damned assassin!" + +At the same instant the old beggar at the foot of the palace steps +sprang panther-like from his crouching position to hurl himself bodily +at something that skulked in the shadows beyond him. + +The marvellous agility of the action, the unerring precision with +which he pounced upon his prey, above all, the voice that had yelled +in execration, sent such a stab of amazed recognition through Muriel +that she stood for a second as one petrified. + +But the next instant all her senses were pricked into alertness by a +revolver-shot. Another came, and yet another. They were fighting below +like tigers--two men in native dress, swaying, straining, struggling, +not three yards from where she stood. + +She never fully remembered afterwards how she came to realise that +Nick--Nick himself--was there before her in the flesh, fighting like +a demon, fighting as she had seen him fight once long ago when every +nerve in her body had been strung to agonised repulsion. + +She felt no repulsion now--no shrinking of any sort, only a wild +anguish of fear for his sake that drove her like a mad creature down +the intervening steps, that sent her flashing between him and his +adversary, that inspired her to wrench away the smoking revolver from +the murderous hand that gripped it. + +She went through those awful moments as a woman possessed, blindly +obeying the compelling force, goaded by sheer, primaeval instinct to +protect her own. It was but a conflict of seconds, but while it lasted +she was untrammelled by any doubts or hesitations. She was sublimely +sure of herself. She was superbly unafraid. + +When it was over, when men crowded round and dragged her enemy back, +when the pressing need was past, her courage fell from her like a +mantle. She sank down upon the steps, a trembling, hysterical woman, +and began to cry. + +Some one bent over her, some one whispered soothing words, some one +drew the revolver out of her weak grasp. Looking up, she saw the old +native beggar upon whom she had thought to bestow her charity. + +"Oh, Nick!" she gasped. "Nick!" And there stopped in sudden misgiving. +Was this grotesque figure indeed Nick? Could it be--this man who had +sat at the Residency gates for weeks, this man to whom she had so +often tossed an alms? + +Her brain had begun to reel, but she clung to the central idea, as one +in deep waters clinging to a spar. + +"Speak to me!" she entreated. "Only speak to me!" + +But before he could answer, Bobby Fraser pushed suddenly forward, +bent over, lifted her. "You are not hurt, Miss Roscoe?" he questioned +anxiously, deep concern on his kindly face. "The damned swine didn't +touch you? There! Come back into the palace. You're the bravest girl I +ever met." + +He began to help her up the steps, but though she was spent and near +to fainting she resisted him. + +"That man--" she faltered. "Don't--don't let him go!" + +"Certainly not," said Bobby promptly. "Here, you old scarecrow, come +and lend a hand!" + +But the old scarecrow apparently had other plans for himself, for he +had already vanished from the scene as swiftly and noiselessly as a +shadow from a sheet. + +"He is gone!" wailed Muriel. "He is gone! Oh, why did you let him go?" + +"He'll turn up again," said Bobby consolingly. "That sort of chap +always does. I say, how ghastly you look! Take my arm! You are not +going to faint, are you? Ah, here is Colonel Cathcart! Miss Roscoe +isn't hurt, sir--only upset. Can't we get her back to the palace?" + +They bore her back between them, and left her to be tended by the +women. She was not unconscious, but the shock had utterly unstrung +her. She lay with closed eyes, listening vaguely to the buzz of +excited comment about her, and wondering, wondering with an aching +heart, why he had gone. + +No one seemed to know exactly what had taken place, and she was too +exhausted to tell. Possibly she would hot have told in any case. It +was known only that an attempt had been made upon the life of the +British Resident, Sir Reginald Bassett, and it was surmised that +Muriel had realised the murderous intention in time to frustrate it. +Certainly a native had tried to help her, but since the native had +disappeared, his share in the conflict was not regarded as very great. +As a matter of fact, the light had been too uncertain and the struggle +too confused for even the eye-witnesses to know with any certainty +what had taken place. Theories and speculations were many and various, +but not one of them went near to the truth. + +"Dear Muriel will tell us presently just how it happened," Lady +Bassett said in her soft voice. + +But Muriel was as one who heard not. She would not even open her eyes +till Sir Reginald came to her, pillowed her head against him, kissed +her white face, and called her his brave little girl. + +That moved her at last, awaking in her the old piteous hunger, +never wholly stifled, for her father. She turned and clung to him +convulsively with an inarticulate murmuring that ended in passionate +tears. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII + +THE LAST SKIRMISH + + +Why had he gone? That was the question that vexed Muriel's soul +through the long hours that followed her return to the Residency. +Lying sleepless on her bed, she racked her weary brain for an answer +to the riddle, but found none. Her brief doubt regarding him had long +since fled. She knew with absolute certainty that it was Nick and +no other who had yelled those furious words, who had made that +panther-spring, who had leaned over her and withdrawn the revolver +from her hold, telling her softly not to cry. But why had he gone just +then when she needed him most? + +Surely by now her message had reached him! Surely he knew that she +wanted him, that she had lowered what he had termed her miserable +little rag of pride to tell him so! Then why was he tormenting her +thus--playing with her as a cat might play with a mouse? Was he taking +his revenge for all the bitter scorn she had flung at him in the past? +Did he think to wring from her some more definite appeal? Ah, that was +it! Like a searchlight flashing inwards, she remembered her promise +to him uttered long ago against her will--his answering oath. And she +knew that he meant to hold her to that promise--that he would exact +the very uttermost sacrifice that it entailed; and then perchance--she +shivered at the unendurable thought--he would laugh his baffling, +enigmatical laugh, and go his way. + +But this was unbearable, impossible. She would sooner die than suffer +it. She would sooner--yes, she would almost sooner--break her promise. + +And then, to save her from distraction, the other side of the picture +presented itself, that reverse side which he had once tauntingly +advised her to study. If he truly loved her, he would not treat her +thus. It would not gratify him to see her in the dust. If he still +cared, as Daisy had assured her he did, it would not be his pleasure +to make her suffer. But then again--oh, torturing question!--had that +been so, would he have gone at that critical moment, would he have +left her, when a look, a touch, would have sufficed to establish +complete understanding? + +Drearily the hours dragged away. The heat was great, and just before +daybreak a thunder-storm rolled up, but spent itself without a drop of +rain. It put the finishing touches to Muriel's restlessness. She rose +and dressed, to sit by her window with her torturing thoughts for +company, and awaited the day. + +With the passing of the storm a slight draught that was like a shudder +moved the scorched leaves of the acacias in the compound, quivered a +little, and ceased. Then came the dawn, revealing mass upon mass of +piled cloud hanging low over the earth. The breaking of the monsoon +was drawing very near. There could be no lifting of the atmosphere, no +relief, until it came. + +She leaned her aching head against the window-frame in a maze of +weariness unutterable. Her heart was too heavy for prayer. + +Minutes passed. The daylight grew and swiftly overspread all things. +The leaden silence began to be pierced here and there by the barking +of a dog, the crowing of a cock, the scolding of a parrot. Somewhere, +either in the compound or close to it, some one began to whistle--a +soft, tentative whistle, like a young blackbird trying its notes. + +Muriel remained motionless, scarcely heeding while it wove itself into +the background of her thoughts. She was in fact hardly aware of it, +till suddenly, with a great thrill of astonishment that shook her +from head to foot, a wild suspicion seized her, and she started up, +listening intently. The fitful notes were resolving into a melody--a +waltz she knew, alluring, enchanting, compelling--the waltz that had +filled in the dreadful silences on that night long ago when she had +fought so desperately hard for her freedom and had prevailed at last. +But stay! Had she prevailed? Had she not rather been a captive in +spite of it all ever since? + +On and on went the haunting waltz-refrain, now near, now far, now +summoning, now eluding. She stood gripping the curtain till she +could bear it no longer, and then with a great sob she mustered her +resolution; she stepped out upon the verandah, and passed down between +shrivelled trailing roses to the garden below. + +The tune ceased quite suddenly, and she found herself moving through +a silence that could be felt. But she would not turn back then. She +would not let herself be discouraged. She had been frightened so often +when there had been no need for fear. + +On she pressed to the end of the path till she stood by the high +fence that bordered the road. She could see no one. The garden lay +absolutely deserted. She paused, hesitating, bewildered. + +At the same instant from the other side of the fence, almost as if +rising from the ground at her feet, a careless voice began to hum--a +cracked, tuneless, unmistakable voice, that sent the blood to her +heart with a force that nearly suffocated her. + +"Nick!" she said, almost in a whisper. + +He did not hear her evidently. His humming continued with unabated +liveliness. + +"Nick!" she said again. + +Still no result. There was nothing in the least dramatic in the +situation. It might almost have been described as ludicrous, but the +white-faced woman in the compound did not find it so. + +She waited till he had come to a suitable stopping place, and then, +before he could renew the melody, she rapped with nervous force upon +the fence. + +There fell a most unexpected silence. + +She broke it with words imploring, almost agonised. "Nick! Nick! Come +and speak to me--for Heaven's sake!" + +His flippant voice greeted her at once in a tone of cheerful inquiry. +"That you, Muriel?" + +Her agitation began to subside of itself. Nothing could have been more +casual than his question. "Yes," she said in reply. "Why are you out +there? Why don't you come in?" + +"My dear girl,--at this hour!" There was shocked reproof in the +ejaculation. Nick was evidently scandalised at the suggestion. + +Muriel lost her patience forthwith. Was it for this that she had spent +all those miserable hours of fruitless heart-searching? His trifling +was worse than ridiculous. It was insufferable. + +"You are to come in at once," she said, in a tone of authority. + +"What for?" said Nick. + +"Because--because--" She hesitated, and stopped, her face burning. + +"Because--" said Nick encouragingly. + +"Oh, don't be absurd!" she exclaimed in desperation. "How can I +possibly talk to you there?" + +"It depends upon what you want to say," said Nick. "If it is something +particularly private--" He paused. + +"Well?" she said. + +"You can always come to me, you know," he pointed out. "But I +shouldn't do that, if I were you. It would be neither dignified nor +proper. And a girl in your position, dearest Muriel, cannot be too +discreet. It is the greatest mistake in the world to act upon impulse. +Let me entreat you to do nothing headlong. Take another year or so to +think things over. There are so many nice men to choose from, and this +absurd infatuation of yours cannot possibly last." + +"Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice held a curious mixture of mirth and +sadness. "It--it isn't a bit funny to talk like that. It isn't even +particularly kind." + +"Ye gods!" said Nick. "Who wants to be kind?" + +"Not you, evidently," she told him with a hint of bitterness. "You +only aim at being intelligent." + +"Well, you'll admit I hit the mark sometimes," he rejoined. "I'm like +a rat, eh? Clever but loathsome." + +She uttered a quivering laugh. "No, you are much more like an eagle, +waiting to strike. Why don't you, I wonder, and--and take what you +want?" + +Nick's answering laugh had a mocking note in it. "Oh, I can play +Animal Grab as well as anybody--better than most," he said modestly. +"But I don't chance to regard this as a suitable occasion for +displaying my skill. Uninteresting for you, of course, but then you +are fond of running away when there is no one after you. It's been +your favourite pastime for almost as long as I have known you." + +The sudden silence with which this airy remark was received had in +it something tragic. Muriel had sunk down on a garden-bench close at +hand, lacking the strength to go away. It was exactly what she had +expected. He meant to take his revenge in his own peculiar fashion. +She had laid herself open to this, and mercilessly, unerringly, he had +availed himself of the opportunity to wound. She might have known! She +might have known! Had he not done it again and again? Oh, she had been +a fool--a fool--to call him back! + +Through the wild hurry of her thoughts his voice pierced once more. It +had an odd inflection that was curiously like a note of concern. + +"I say, Muriel, are you crying?" + +"Crying!" She pulled herself together hastily. "No! Why should I?" + +"I can tell you why you shouldn't," he answered whimsically. "No one +ever ought to cry before breakfast. It's shocking for the appetite +and may ruin the complexion for the rest of the day. Besides,--you've +nothing to cry for." + +"Oh, don't be absurd!" she flung back again almost fiercely. "I'm not +crying!" + +"Quite sure?" said Nick. + +"Absolutely certain," she declared. + +"All right then," he rejoined. "That being so, you had better dry your +eyes very carefully, for I am coming to see for myself." + + + + +CHAPTER LIV + +SURRENDER + + +She awaited him still sitting on the bench and striving vainly to +quiet her thumping heart. She heard him come lightly up behind her, +but she did not turn her head though she had no tears to conceal. She +was possessed by an insane desire to spring up and flee. It took all +her resolution to remain where she was. + +And so Nick drew near unwelcomed--a lithe, alert figure in European +attire, bare-headed, eager-faced. He was smiling to himself as he +came, but when he reached her the smile was gone. + +He bent and looked into her white, downcast face; then laid his hand +upon her shoulder. + +"But Muriel--" he said. + +And that was all. Yet Muriel suddenly hid her face and wept. + +He did not attempt to restrain her. Perhaps he realised that tears +such as those must have their way. But the touch of his hand was in +some fashion soothing. It stilled the tempest within her, comforting +her inexplicably. + +She reached up at last, and drew it down between her own, holding it +fast. + +"I'm such a fool, Nick," she whispered shakily. "You--you must try to +bear with me." + +She felt his fingers close and gradually tighten upon her own until +their grip was actual pain. + +"Haven't I borne with you long enough?" he said. "Can't you come to +the point?" + +She shook her head slightly. Her trembling had not wholly ceased. She +was not--even yet she was not--wholly sure of him. + +"Afraid?" he questioned. + +And she answered him meekly, with bowed head. "Yes, Nick; afraid." + +"Don't you think you might look me in the face if you tried very +hard?" he suggested. + +"No, Nick." She almost shrank at the bare thought. + +"Oh, but you haven't tried," he said. + +His voice sounded very close. She knew he was bending down. She even +fancied she could feel his breath upon her neck. + +Her head sank a little lower. "Don't!" she whispered, with a sob. + +"What are you afraid of?" he said. "You weren't afraid to send me a +message. You weren't afraid to save my life last night. What is it +frightens you?" + +She could not tell him. Only her panic was very real. It shook her +from head to foot. A fierce struggle was going on within her,--the +last bitter conflict between her love and her fear. It tore her in all +directions. She felt as if it would drive her mad. But through it all +she still clung desperately to the bony hand that grasped her own. It +seemed to sustain her, to hold her up, through all her chaos of doubt, +of irresolution, of miserable, overmastering dread. + +"What is it frightens you?" he said again. "Why won't you look at me? +There is nothing whatever to make you afraid!" + +He spoke softly, as though he were addressing a scared child. But +still she was afraid, afraid of the very impulse that urged her, +horribly afraid of meeting the darting scrutiny of his eyes. + +He waited for a little in silence; then suddenly with a sharp sigh +he straightened himself. "You don't know your own mind yet," he said. +"And I can't help you to know it. I had better go." + +He would have withdrawn his hand with the words, but she held it fast. + +"No, Nick, no! It isn't that," she told him tremulously. "I know what +I want--perfectly well. But--but--I can't put it into words. I can't! +I can't!" + +"Is that it?" said Nick. His manner changed completely. He bent down +again. She heard the old note of banter in his voice, but mingled with +it was a tenderness so utter that she scarcely recognised it. "Then, +my dear girl, in Heaven's name, don't try! Words were not made for +such an occasion as this. They are clumsy tools at the best of times. +You can make me understand without words. I'm horribly intelligent, as +you remarked just now." + +Her heart leapt to the rapid assurance. Was it so difficult to tell +him after all? Surely she could find a way! + +The tumult of her emotions swelled to sudden uproar, thunderous, +all-possessing, overwhelming, so that she gasped and gasped again for +breath. And then all in a moment she knew that the conflict was over. +She was as a diver, hurling with headlong velocity from dizzy height +into deep waters, and she rejoiced--she exulted--in that mad rush into +depth. + +With a quivering laugh she moved. She loosened her convulsive clasp +upon his hand, turned it upwards, and stooping low, she pressed her +lips closely, passionately, lingeringly, upon his open palm. She had +found a way. + +He started sharply at her action; he almost winced. Then, "Muriel!" he +exclaimed in a voice that broke, and threw himself on his knees beside +her, holding her fast in a silence so sudden and so tense that she +also was awed into a great stillness. + +Yet, after a little, though his face was pressed against her so +that she could not see it or even vaguely guess his mood, she found +strength to speak. + +"I can tell you what I want now, Nick," she whispered. "Shall I tell +you?" + +He did not answer, did not so much as breathe. But yet she knew no +fear or hesitancy. Her eyes were opened, and her tongue loosed. Words +came easily to her now, more easily than they had ever come before. + +"I want to be married--soon, very soon," she told him softly. "And +then I want you to take me away with you into Nepal, as you planned +ever so long ago. And let us be alone together in the mountains--quite +alone as we were before. Will you, Nick? Will you?" + +But again he had no answer for her. He did not seem able to reply. +His head still lay against her shoulder. His arm was still tense about +her. She fell silent, waiting for him. + +At last he drew a deep breath that seemed to burst upwards from the +very heart of him, and lifted his face with a jerk. + +"My God!" he said. "Is it true?" + +His voice was oddly uneven; he seemed to produce it with difficulty. +But having broken the spell that bound him, he managed after a moment +to continue. + +"Are you quite sure you want to marry me,--quite sure that to-morrow +you won't be scared out of your wits at the bare idea? Have you left +off being afraid of me? Do you mean me really to take you at your +word?" + +"If you will, Nick," she answered humbly. + +"If I will!" he echoed, with sudden passion. "I warn you, Muriel, you +are putting yourself irrevocably in my power, and you will never break +away again. You may come to loathe me with your whole soul, but I +shall never let you go. Have you realised that? If I take you now, I +take you for all time." + +He spoke almost with violence, and, having spoken, drew back from her +abruptly, as though he could not wholly trust himself. + +But nothing could dismay her now. She had fought her last battle, had +made the final surrender. Her fear was dead. She stretched out her +hands to him with unfaltering confidence. + +"Take me then, Nick," she said. + +He took the extended hands with quick decision, first one and then the +other, and laid them on his shoulders. + +"Now look at me," he said. + +She hesitated, though not as one afraid. + +"Look at me, Muriel!" he insisted. + +Then, as she kept her eyes downcast, he put his hand under her chin +and compelled her. + +She yielded with a little quivering murmur of protest, and so for the +first time in her life she deliberately met his look, encountering +eyes so wide and so piercingly blue that she had a moment's bewildered +feeling of uncertainty, as though she had looked into the eyes of a +stranger. Then the colourless lashes descended again and veiled them +as of old. He blinked with his usual disconcerting rapidity and set +her free. + +"Yes," he said. "You've left off cheating. And if you really care to +marry me--what's left of me--it's a precious poor bargain, but--I am +yours." + +His voice cracked a little. She fancied he was going to laugh. And +then, while she was still wondering, his arm went round her again and +drew her closely to him. She was conscious of a sudden, leaping flame +behind the pale lashes, felt his hold tighten while the wrinkled face +drew near,--and with a sob she clasped her arms about his neck and +turned her lips to his. + + + + +CHAPTER LV + +OMNIA VINCIT AMOR + + +"Funny, wasn't it?" said Nick, jingling a small handful of coins in +front of his fiancee. "Quite a harvest in its way! I had no idea you +were so charitable." + +She caught his wrist. "You have no right to a single one of them. You +obtained them under false pretences. What in the world induced you to +do such a thing?" + +Nick's hand closed firmly upon the spoil. "It was a sheer, heaven-sent +inspiration," he declared. "Care to know how it came to me? It +happened one night in the Indian Ocean when I was on the way out with +Daisy. I was lying on deck under the stars, thinking of you, and the +whole idea came to me ready-made. I didn't attempt to shape it; it +shaped itself. I was hungering for the sight of you, and I knew you +would never find me out. You never would have, either, if I hadn't +had Daisy's message. I was just going to quit my lonely vigil when +it reached me. But that altered my plans, and I decided with Fraser's +assistance to face it out. You knew he was in the secret, of course? +He is in every secret, that chap. As soon as I heard of Lady Bassett's +ingenious little fiction about the Buddhist monastery, I was ready +to take the wan path. But you were invisible, you know. I had to wait +till you emerged. Then came last night's episode, and I had to take to +my heels. I couldn't face a public exposure, and it wouldn't have +been particularly pleasant for you, either. So now you have the whole +touching story, and I think you needn't grudge me a rupee and a few +annas as a reward for my devotion." + +Muriel laughed rather tremulously. "I would have given you something +better worth having--if I had known." + +"Never too late," said Nick philosophically. "You can begin at once +if you like. Let me have your hand. Hold it steady, my dear girl. +Remember my limitations. You won't refuse any longer to wear my ring?" + +"I will wear it gladly," she told him, as he fitted it back upon her +finger. "I shall never part with it again." + +Her eyes were full of tears, but she would not let them fall, and Nick +was too intent upon what he was doing to notice. + +"That imp Olga nearly broke her poor little heart when she gave it +back to me," he said. "I think I shall have to send her a cable. What +shall I say? OMNIA VINCIT AMOR? She is old enough to know what that +means. And if I add, 'From Muriel and Nick,' she will understand. A +pity she can't come to our wedding! I'd sooner have seen her jolly +little phiz than all Lady Bassett's wreathed smiles. She is sure to +smile, you know. She always does when she sees me." He broke off with +a hideous grimace. + +"Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice trembled a little. "Why does she hate +you so?" + +"Can't imagine," grinned Nick. "It's a way some people have. Perhaps +she will end by falling in love with me. Who knows?" + +"Don't be horrid, Nick! Why won't you tell me?" Muriel laid a pleading +hand upon his. + +He caught it to his lips. "I can't tell you, darling, seeing she is +a woman. An unpleasant adventure befell her once for which I was +partially responsible. And she has hated me with most unseemly +vehemence ever since." + +A light began to break upon Muriel. "Was it something that happened on +board ship?" she hazarded. + +He gave her a sharp look. "Who told you that?" + +She flushed a little. "Bobby Fraser. He didn't mention her name, of +course. We--we were talking about you once." + +Nick laughed aloud. "Only once?" + +Her colour deepened. "You are positively ridiculous. Still, I wish +it hadn't been Lady Bassett, Nick. I don't like to feel she hates you +like that." + +"It doesn't hurt me in the least," Nick declared. "Her poison-fang is +extracted so far as I am concerned. She could only poison me through +you. I always knew I had her to thank for what happened at Simla." + +"Oh, but not her alone," Muriel said quickly. "You mustn't blame her +only for that. I was prejudiced against you by--other things." + +"I know all about it," said Nick. He was holding her hand in his, +moving it hither and thither to catch the gleam of the rubies upon it. +"You were a poor little scared rabbit fleeing from a hideous monster +of destruction. You began to run that last night at Wara when I made +you drink that filthy draught, and you have hardly stopped yet. I +don't suppose it ever occurred to you that I would rather have died +in torment than have done it." He broke into a sudden laugh. "But you +needn't be afraid that I shall ever do it again. I can't do much +to any one with only one arm, can I? You witnessed my futility last +night. There's a grain of comfort in that, eh, darling?" + +"Nick, don't, don't!" She turned to him impulsively and laid her cheek +against his shoulder. "You--you don't know how you hurt me!" + +"My dear girl, what's the matter?" said Nick. "I was only trying to +draw your attention to my good points--such as they are." + +"Don't!" she said again, in a choked voice. "It's more than I can +bear. You would never have lost your arm but for me." + +"Oh, rats!" said Nick, holding her closely. "Whoever told you that--" + +"It was Dr. Jim." + +"Well, Jim's an ass, and I shall tell him so. There, don't fret, +darling. It isn't worth it. I could wish it hadn't happened for your +sake, but I don't care a rap for my own." + +"You are not to care for mine," she whispered. "I shall only love you +the better for it." + +"Then it will be a blessing to me after all," said Nick cheerily. +"Do you know what we are going to do as soon as we are married, +sweetheart? We are going to climb the highest mountain in the world, +to see the sun rise, and to thank God." + +She turned her face upwards with a quivering smile. "Let us be married +soon then, Nick." + +"At once," said Nick promptly. "Come along and tell Sir Reginald. +He must be out of bed by this time. If he isn't I think the occasion +almost justifies us in knocking him up." + +They found Sir Reginald already upon the verandah, drinking his early +coffee, and to Muriel's dismay he was not alone. It was later than she +had imagined, and Colonel Cathcart and Bobby Fraser had both dropped +in for a gossip, and were seated with him at the table smoking. + +As she and Nick approached, Lady Bassett herself emerged through an +open window behind the three men. + +Nick began to chuckle. This was the sort of situation that appealed +to his sense of humour. He began to chant an old-world ditty under his +breath with appropriate words. + +"Oh, dear, what will the Bassett say?" + +Muriel uttered a short, hysterical laugh, and instantly they were +discovered. + +"Now what are you going to do?" said Nick. + +"I don't know," she responded hurriedly. "Run away, I think." + +"Not you," said Nick, grasping her hand very firmly. "You are going to +face the music with me." + +She gave in, half laughing, half protesting, and he led her up the +steps with considerable pomp. + +She need not have been so painfully embarrassed, for every one, with +the exception of Bobby Fraser, looked at Nick, and Nick only, in +speechless amazement, as though he had just returned from the dead. + +Nick was sublimely equal to the occasion. He came to a standstill by +the table, executed an elaborate bow in Lady Bassett's direction, then +turned briskly to Sir Reginald. + +"After two years' deliberation," he announced, "we have decided to +settle our differences by getting married, and we are hoping, sir, +that you will bestow your blessing upon our union." + +"My good fellow!" gasped Sir Reginald. "This is a very great +surprise!" + +"Yes, I know," said Nick. "It was to me, too. But--though fully +sensible of my unworthiness--I shall do my best to deserve the very +high honour that has been done me. And I hope we may count upon your +approval and support." + +Again his bow included Lady Bassett. There was a mocking glint in the +glance he threw her. + +She came forward as though in answer to a challenge, her face +unwontedly flushed. "This is indeed unexpected!" she declared, +extending her hand. "How do you do, Captain Ratcliffe? You will +understand our surprise when I tell you that some one was saying only +the other day that you had entered a Tibetan monastery." + +"Some one must have been telling a lie, dear Lady Bassett," said Nick. +"I am sorry if it caused you any uneasiness on my account. I should +certainly never have taken such a serious step without letting you +know. I trust that my projected marriage will have a less disturbing +effect." + +Lady Bassett smiled her crooked smile, and raised one eyebrow. "Oh, I +shall not be anxious on your account," she assured him playfully. + +"Quite right, Lady Bassett," broke in Colonel Cathcart. "He'll hold +his own, wherever he is. I always said so when he was in the Service." + +"And a little over probably," put in Bobby Fraser. "Miss Roscoe, if +you ever find him hard to manage, you send for me." + +Muriel, from the shelter of Sir Reginald's arm, looked across at the +speaker with a smile of unwonted confidence. + +"Thank you all the same," she responded, "but I don't expect any +difficulties in that respect." + +"She is far more likely to fight my battles for me," remarked Nick +complacently, "seeing my own fighting days are over." + +"And what have you been doing with yourself all this time?" demanded +Sir Reginald suddenly. "You have been singularly unobtrusive. What +have you been doing?" + +Nick's answering grin was one of sheer exuberance of spirit. "I've +just been marking time, sir, that's all," he replied enigmatically. +"A monotonous business for every one concerned, but it seems to have +served its purpose." + +Sir Reginald grunted a little, and looked uncomfortably at his wife's +twisted smile. "And now you want to get married, do you?" he said. + +"At once," said Nick. + +"Well, well," said Sir Reginald, beginning to smile himself. "All's +well that ends well, and Muriel is old enough to please herself. Mind +you are good to her, that's all. And I wish you both every happiness." + +"So do I," said Bobby Fraser heartily. "And look here, you +jack-in-the-box, if you're wanting a best man to push you through, +I'll undertake the job. It's a capacity in which I have often made +myself useful." + +"Right O!" laughed Nick. "But you won't find I want much pushing, old +chap. I'm on my way to the top crag of Everest already." + +"Ah, Captain Ratcliffe, be careful!" murmured Lady Bassett. "Do not +soar too high!" + +He bowed to her a third time, still with his baffling smile. "Thanks, +dear Lady Bassett!" he said lightly. "But you need have no misgivings. +Forewarned is forearmed, they say. And on this occasion, at least, I +am wise--in time." + +"And dear Muriel too, I wonder?" smiled Lady Bassett. + +"And dear Muriel too," smiled Nick. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI + +THE EAGLE SOARS + + +Night and a running stream--a soft gurgle of sound that was like a +lullaby. Within the tent the quiet breathing of a man asleep; standing +in the entrance--a woman. + +There was a faint quiver in the air as of something coming from afar, +a hushed expectancy of something great. A chill breath came off the +snows, hovering secretly above the ice-cold water. The stars glittered +like loose-hung jewels upon a sable robe. + +Ah, that flash as of a sword across the sky! A meteor had fallen among +the mountains. It was almost like a signal in the heavens--herald of +the coming wonder of the dawn. + +Softly the watcher turned inwards, and at once a gay, cracked voice +spoke out of the darkness. + +"Hullo, darling! Up and watching already! Ye gods! What a sky! Why +didn't you wake me sooner? Have I time for a plunge?" + +"Perhaps--if you will let me help you dress after it. Certainly not +otherwise." The deep voice had in it a tremulous note that was like a +caress. The speaker was looking into the shadows. The glory without no +longer held her. + +"All right then, you shall--just for a treat. Perhaps you would like +to shave me as well?" + +"Shave you!" There was scorn this time in the answering voice. "You +couldn't grow a single hair if you tried!" + +"True, O Queen! I couldn't. And the few I was born with are invisible. +Hence my failure to distinguish myself in the Army. It is to be hoped +the deficiency will not blight my Parliamentary career also--always +supposing I get there." + +"Ah, but you did distinguish yourself. I heard--once"--the words came +with slight hesitation--"that you ought to have had the V.C. after the +Wara expedition,--only you refused it." + +"I wonder what gas-bag let that out," commented Nick. "You shouldn't +believe all you hear, you know. Now, darling, I'm ready for the +plunge, and I must look sharp about it too. Do you mind rummaging out +a towel?" + +"But, Nick, was it true?" + +"What? The V.C. episode? Oh, I suppose so, more or less. I didn't +want to be decorated for running away, you see. It didn't seem exactly +suitable. Besides, I didn't do it for that." + +"Nick, do you know you make me feel more contemptible every day?" +There was an unmistakable quiver of distress in the words. + +"My own girl, don't be a goose!" came the light response. "You don't +honestly suppose I could ever regret anything now, do you? Why, it's a +lost faculty." + +He stepped from the tent, clad loosely in a bath sheet, and bestowed a +kiss upon his wife's downcast face in passing. "Look here, sweetheart, +if you cry while I'm in the water, I'll beat you directly I come out. +That's a promise, not a threat. And by the way, I've got something +good to tell you presently; so keep your heart up." + +He laughed at her and went his way, humming tunelessly after his +own peculiarly volatile fashion. She listened to his singing, as he +splashed in the stream below, as though it were the sweetest music on +earth; and she knew that he had spoken the truth. Whatever sacrifices +he had made in the past, regret was a thing impossible to him now. + +By the time he joined her again, she had driven away her own. The sky +was changing mysteriously. The purple depth was lightening, the stars +receding. + +"We must hurry," said Nick. "The gods won't wait for us." + +But they were ready first after all, and the morning found them high +up the mountainside with their faces to the east. + +Sudden and splendid, the sun flashed up over the edge of the world, +and the snow of the mountain crests shone in roselit glory for a few +magic seconds, then shimmered to gold--glittering as the peaks of +Paradise. + +They did not speak at all, for the ground beneath their feet was holy, +and all things that called for speech were left behind. Only as +dawn became day--as the sun-god mounted triumphant above the waiting +earth--the man's arm tightened about the woman, and his flickering +eyes grew steadfast and reverent as the eyes of one who sees a +vision.... + +"'Prophet and priestess we came--back from the dawning,'" quoted Nick, +under his breath. + +Muriel uttered a long, long sigh, and turned her face against her +husband's shoulder. + +His lips were on her forehead for a moment; the next he was peering +into her face with his usual cheery grin. + +"Care to hear my piece of news?" he questioned. + +She looked at him eagerly. "Oh, Nick, not the mail!" + +He nodded. "Runner came in late last night. You were asleep and +dreaming of me. I hadn't the heart to wake you." + +She laughed and blushed. "As if I should! Do you really imagine that I +never think of anyone else? But go on. What news?" + +He pulled out two letters. "One from Olga, full of adoration, bless +her funny heart, and containing also a rude message from Jim to the +effect that Redlands is going to rack and ruin for want of a tenant +while we are philandering on the outside edge of civilisation doing +no good to anybody. No good indeed! I'll punch his head for that some +day. But I suppose we really ought to be thinking of Home before long, +eh, sweetheart?" + +She assented with a smile and a sigh. "I am sure we ought. Dr. Jim is +quite right. We must come back to earth again, my eagle and I." + +Nick kissed her hair. "It's been a gorgeous flight hasn't it? We'll do +it again--heaps of times--before we die." + +"If nothing happens to prevent," said Muriel. + +He frowned. "What do you say that for? Are you trying to be like Lady +Bassett? Because it's a vain aspiration, so you may as well give it up +at the outset." + +"Nick, how absurd you are!" There was a slight break in the words. +"I--I had almost forgotten there was such a person. No, I said it +because--because--well, anything might happen, you know." + +"Such as?" said Nick. + +"Anything," she repeated almost inaudibly. + +Nick pondered this for a moment. "Is it a riddle?" he asked. + +She did not answer him. Her face was hidden. + +He waited a little. Then, "I shall begin to guess directly," he said. + +She uttered a muffled laugh, and clung to him with a sudden, +passionate closeness. "Nick, you--you humbug! You know!" + +Nick tossed his letters on the ground and held her fast. "My precious +girl, you gave the show away not ten seconds ago by that blush of +yours. There! Don't be so absurdly shy! You can't be shy with me. Look +at me, sweet. Look up and tell me it's true!" + +She turned her face upwards, quivering all over, yet laughing +tremulously. "Yes, Nick, really, really!" she told him. "Oh, my +darling, are you glad?" + +"Am I glad?" said Nick, and laughed at her softly. "I'm the happiest +man on earth. I shall go Home now without a pang, and so will you. +We have got to feather the nest, you know. That'll be fun, eh, +sweetheart?" + +Her eyes answered him more convincingly than any words. They seemed +to have caught some of the sunshine that made the world around them so +glorious. + +Some time elapsed before she remembered the neglected correspondence. +Time was of no account up there among the mountains. + +"The other letter, Nick, you didn't tell me about it. I fancied you +might have heard from Will Musgrave." + +"So I have," said Nick. "You had better read it. There's a line for +you inside. It's all right. Daisy has got a little girl, both doing +splendidly; Daisy very happy, Will nearly off his head with joy." + +Muriel was already deep in Will's ecstatic letter. She read it with +smiling lips and tearful eyes. At the end in pencil she found the line +that was for her. + +"Tell Muriel that all's well with me, and I want you both for +Christmas.--Daisy." + +Muriel looked up. "I promised to spend Christmas with them, Nick." + +Nick smiled upon her quizzically. "By a strange coincidence, darling, +so did I. I should think under the circumstances we might go together, +shouldn't you?" + +She drew his hand to her cheek. "We will go to them for Christmas +then. And after that straight Home. Tell Dr. Jim when you write. +But--Nick--I think we should like to feather the nest all ourselves, +don't you?" + +"Why, rather!" said Nick. "We'll do it together--just you and I." + +"Just you and I," she repeated softly. + +Later, hand in hand, they looked across the valley to the shining +crags that glistened spear-like in the sun. + +A great silence lay around them--a peace unspeakable--that those +silver crests lifted into the splendour of Infinity. + +They stood alone together--above the world--with their faces to the +mountains. + +And thus standing with the woman he loved, Nick spoke, briefly--it +seemed lightly--yet with a certain tremor in his voice. + +"Horses," he said--"and chariots--of fire!" And Muriel looked at him +with memory and understanding in her eyes. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Way of an Eagle, by Ethel M. 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