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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:42:22 -0700 |
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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/13553-0.txt b/13553-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ecc3b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/13553-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10189 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13553 *** + +THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +ETHEL M. DELL + +Author of _The Lamp in the Desert_, _The Hundredth Chance_, +_Greatheart_, etc. + +1919 + + + + + + + +BY ETHEL M. DELL + + The Way of an Eagle + The Knave of Diamonds + The Rocks of Valpré + The Swindler + The Keeper of the Door + Bars of Iron + Rosa Mundi + The Hundredth Chance + The Safety Curtain + Greatheart + The Lamp in the Desert + The Tidal Wave + The Top of the World + The Obstacle Race + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT + +Three stories in this volume, "The Magic Circle," "The Woman of his +Dream," and "The Return Game," were first published in The Red Magazine. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE TIDAL WAVE + +THE MAGIC CIRCLE + +THE LOOKER-ON + +THE SECOND FIDDLE + +THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM + +THE RETURN GAME + + + + + + +THE TIDAL WAVE + + + +CHAPTER I + +STILL WATERS + + +Rufus the Red sat on the edge of his boat with his hands clasped between +his knees, staring at nothing. His nets were spread to dry in the sun; +the morning's work was done. Most of the other men had lounged into +their cottages for the midday meal, but the massive red giant sitting on +the shore in the merciless heat of noon did not seem to be thinking of +physical needs. + +His eyes under their shaggy red brows were fixed with apparent +concentration upon his red, hairy legs. Now and then his bare toes +gripped the moist sand almost savagely, digging deep furrows; but for +the most part he sat in solid contemplation. + +There was only one other man within sight along that sunny stretch of +sand--a small, dark man with a shaggy, speckled beard and quick, +twinkling eyes. He was at work upon a tangled length of tarred rope, +pulling and twisting with much energy and deftness to straighten out the +coil, so that it leaped and writhed in his hands like a living thing. + +He whistled over the job cheerily and tunelessly, glancing now and again +with a keen, birdlike intelligence towards the motionless figure twenty +yards away that sat with bent head broiling in the sun. His task seemed +a hopeless one, but he tackled it as if he enjoyed it. His brown hands +worked with a will. He was plainly one to make the best of things, and +not to be lightly discouraged--a man of resolution, as the coxswain of +the Spear Point lifeboat needed to be. + +After ten minutes of unremitting toil he very suddenly ceased to whistle +and sent a brisk hail across the stretch of sand that intervened between +himself and the solitary fisherman on the edge of the boat. + +"Hi--Rufus--Rufus--ahoy!" + +The fiery red head turned in his direction without either alacrity or +interest. The fixed eyes came out of their trance-like study and took in +the blue-jerseyed, energetic figure that worked so actively at the +knotted hemp. There was something rather wonderful about those eyes. +They were of the deep, intense blue of a spirit-fed flame--the blue of +the ocean when a storm broods below the horizon. + +He made no verbal answer to the hail; only after a moment or two he got +slowly to his feet and began leisurely to cross the sand. + +The older man did not watch his progress. His brown, lined face was +bent again over his task. + +Rufus the Red drew near and paused. "Want anything?" + +He spoke from his chest, in a voice like a deep-toned bell. His arms +hung slack at his sides, but the muscles stood out on them like ropes. + +The coxswain of the lifeboat gave his head a brief, upward jerk without +looking at him. "That curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said, +"he came messing round after me this morning, wanted to know would I +take him out with the nets one day. I told him maybe you would." + +"What did you do that for?" said Rufus. + +The coxswain shot him a brief and humorous glance. "I always give you +the plums if I can, my boy," he said. "I said to him, 'Me and my son, +we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with +me, and p'raps a bit better, for he's got the better boat.' So he +sheered off, and said maybe he'd look you up in the evening." + +"Maybe I shan't be there," commented Rufus. + +The coxswain chuckled, and lashed out an end of rope, narrowly missing +his son's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that +chap," he observed. "Not by no manner of means. Do you know what +Columbine thinks of him?" + +"How should I know?" said Rufus. + +He stooped with an abrupt movement that had in it a hint of savagery, +and picked up the end of rope that lay jerking at his feet. + +"Tell you what, Adam," he said. "If that chap values his health he'll +keep clear of me and my boat." + +Everyone called the coxswain Adam, even his son and partner, Rufus the +Red. No two men could have formed a more striking contrast than they, +but their partnership was something more than a business relation. They +were friends--friends on a footing of equality, and had been such ever +since Rufus--the giant baby who had cost his mother her life--had first +closed his resolute fist upon his father's thumb. + +That was five-and-twenty years ago now, and for eighteen of those years +the two had dwelt alone together in their cottage on the cliff in +complete content. Then--seven years back--Adam the coxswain had +unexpectedly tired of his widowed state and taken to himself a second +wife. + +This was Mrs. Peck, of The Ship, a widow herself of some years' +standing, plump, amiable, prosperous, who in marrying Adam would have +gladly opened her doors to Adam's son also had the son been willing to +avail himself of her hospitality. + +But Rufus had preferred independence in the cottage of his birth, and in +this cottage he had lived alone since his father's defection. + +It was a dainty little cottage, perched in an angle of the cliff, well +apart from all the rest and looking straight down upon the great Spear +Point. He tended the strip of garden with scrupulous care, and it made +a bright spot of colour against the brown cliff-side. A rough path, +steep and winding, led up from the beach below, and about half-way up a +small gate, jealously padlocked in the owner's absence, guarded Rufus's +privacy. He never invited any one within that gate. Occasionally his +father would saunter up with his evening pipe and sit in the little +porch of his old home looking through the purple clematis flowers out to +sea while he exchanged a few commonplace remarks with his son, who never +broke his own silence unless he had something to say. But no other +visitor ever intruded there. + +Rufus had acquired the reputation of a hermit, and it kept all the rest +at bay. He had lived his own life for so long that solitude had grown +upon him as moss clings to a stone. He did not seem to feel the need of +human companionship. He lived apart. + +Sometimes, indeed, he would go down to The Ship in the evening and +lounge in the bar with the rest, but even there his solitude still +wrapped him round. He never expanded, however genial the atmosphere. + +The other men treated him with instinctive respect. He was powerful +enough to thrash any two of them, and no one cared to provoke him to +wrath. For Rufus in anger was a veritable mad bull. + +"Leave him alone! He's not safe!" was the general advice and warning of +his fellows, and none but Adam ever interfered with him. + +Just recently, however, Adam had begun to take a somewhat quizzical +interest in the welfare of his son. It had been an established custom +ever since his second marriage that Rufus should eat his Sunday dinner +at the family table down at The Ship. Mrs. Peck--Adam's wife was never +known by any other title, just as the man's own surname had dropped into +such disuse that few so much as knew what it was--had made an especial +point of this, and Rufus had never managed to invent any suitable excuse +for refusing. He never remained long after the meal was eaten. When all +the other fisher-lads were walking the cliffs with their own particular +lasses, Rufus was wont to trudge back to his hermitage and draw his +mantle of solitude about him once more. He had never walked with any +lass. Whether from shyness or surliness, he had held consistently aloof +from such frivolous pastimes. If a girl ever cast a saucy look his way +the brooding blue eyes never seemed aware of it. In speech with +womenkind he was always slow and half-reluctant. That his great +bull-like physique could by any means be an object of admiration was a +possibility that he never seemed to contemplate. In fact, he seemed +expectant of ridicule rather than appreciation. + +In his boyhood he had fought several tough fights with certain lads who +had dared to scoff at his red hair. Sam Jefferson, who lived down on +the quay, still bore the marks of one such battle in the absence of two +front teeth. But he did not take affront from womenkind. He looked over +their heads, and went his way in massive unconcern. + +But lately a change had come into his life--such a change as made Adam's +shrewd dark eyes twinkle whenever they glanced in his son's direction, +comprehending that the days of Rufus's tranquillity were ended. + +A witch had come to live at The Ship, such a witch as had never before +danced along the Spear Point sands. Her name was Maria Peck, and she was +the daughter of Mrs. Peck's late lamented husband's vagabond brother--"a +seafaring man and a wastrel if ever there was one," as Mrs. Peck was +often heard to declare. He had picked up with and eventually married a +Spanish pantomime girl up London way, so Mrs. Peck's information went, +and Maria had been the child of their union. + +No one called her Maria. Her mother had named her Columbine, and +Columbine she had become to all who knew her. Her mother dying when she +was only three, Columbine had been left to the sole care of her wastrel +father. And he, then a skipper of a small cargo steamer plying across +the North Sea, had placed her in the charge of a spinster aunt who kept +an infants' school in a little Kentish village near the coast. Here, up +to the age of seventeen, Columbine had lived and been educated; but the +old schoolmistress had worn out at last, and on her death-bed had sent +for Mrs. Peck, as being the girl's only remaining relative, her father +having drifted out of her ken long since. + +Mrs. Peck had nobly risen to the occasion. She had no daughter of her +own; she could do with a daughter. But when she saw Columbine she sucked +up her breath. + +"My, but she'll be a care!" was her verdict. + +"She don't know--how lovely she is," the dying woman had whispered. +"Don't tell her!" + +And Mrs. Peck had staunchly promised to keep the secret, so far as lay +in her power. + +That had happened six months before, and Columbine was out of mourning +now. She had come into the Spear Point community like a shy bird, a +little slip of a thing, upright as a dart, with a fashion of holding her +head that kept all familiarity at bay. But the shyness had all gone now. +The girlish immaturity was fast vanishing in soft curves and tender +lines. And the beauty of her!--the beauty of her was as the gold of a +summer morning breaking over a pearly sea. + +She was a creature of light and laughter, but there were in her odd +little streaks of unconsidered impulse that testified to a passionate +soul. She would flash into a temper over a mere trifle, and then in a +moment flash back into mirth and amiability. + +"You can't call her bad-tempered," said Mrs. Peck. "But she's +sharp--she's certainly sharp." + +"Ay, and she's got a will of her own," commented Adam. "But she's your +charge, missus, not mine. It's my belief you'll find her a bit of a +handful before you've done. But don't you ask me to interfere! It's none +o' my job." + +"Lor' bless you," chuckled Mrs. Peck, "I'd as soon think of asking +Rufus!" + +Adam grunted at this light reference to his son. "Rufus ain't such a +fool as he looks," he rejoined. + +"Lor' sakes! Whoever said he was?" protested the equable Mrs. Peck. +"I've a great respect for Rufus. It wasn't that I meant--not by any +manner o' means." + +What she had meant did not transpire, and Adam did not pursue the +subject to inquire. He also had a respect for Rufus. + +It was not long after that brief conversation that he began to notice a +change in his son. He made no overtures of friendship to the dainty +witch at The Ship, but he took the trouble to make himself extremely +respectable when he made his weekly appearance there. He kept his shag +of red hair severely cropped. He attired himself in navy serge, and wore +a collar. + +Adam's keen eyes took in the change and twinkled. Columbine's eyes +twinkled too. She had begun by being almost absurdly shy in the presence +of the young fisherman who sat so silently at his father's table, but +that phase had wholly passed away. She treated him now with a kindly +condescension, such as she might have bestowed upon a meek-souled dog. +All the other men--with the exception of Adam, whom she frankly +liked--she overlooked with the utmost indifference. They were plainly +lesser animals than dogs. + +"She'll look high," said Mrs. Peck. "The chaps here ain't none of her +sort." + +And again Adam grunted. + +He was fond of Columbine, took her out in his boat, spun yarns for her, +gave her such treasures from the sea as came his way--played, in fact, a +father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to +assume no authority over her. That responsibility was reserved for Mrs. +Peck, whose kindly personality made the bare idea seem absurd. + +And so to a very great extent Columbine had run wild. But the warm +responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a general rule, and +Mrs. Peck's government was by no means exacting. + +"Thank goodness, she's not one to run after the men!" was her verdict +after the first six months of Columbine's sojourn. + +That the men would have run after her had they received the smallest +encouragement to do so was a fact that not one of them would have +disputed. But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance, and none +had so far attempted to cross the invisible boundary that she had so +decidedly laid down. + +And then with the summer weather had come the stranger--had come Montagu +Knight. Young, handsome, and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one +day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along the coast from +Spearmouth, on the other side of the Point. And the next day he came +again to stay. + +He had been there for nearly three weeks now, and he seemed to have +every intention of remaining. He was an artist, and the sketches he made +were numerous and--like himself--full of decision. He came and went +among the fishermen's little thatched cottages, selecting here, refusing +there, exactly according to fancy. + +They had been inclined to resent his presence at first--it was certainly +no charitable impulse that moved Adam to call him "the curly-topped +chap"--but now they were getting used to him. For there was no +gainsaying the fact that he had a way with him, at least so far as the +women-folk of the community were concerned. + +He could keep Mrs. Peck chuckling for an hour at a time in the evening, +when the day's work was over. And Columbine--Columbine had a trill of +laughter in her voice whenever she spoke to him. He liked to hear her +play the guitar and sing soft songs in the twilight. Adam liked it too. +He was wont to say that it reminded him of a young blackbird learning to +sing. For Columbine was as yet very shy of her own talent. She kept in +the shallows, as it were, in dread of what the deep might hold. + +Knight was very kind to her, but he was never extravagant in his praise. +He was quite unlike any other man of her acquaintance. His touch was +always so sure. He never sought her out, though he was invariably quite +pleased to see her. The dainty barrier of pride that fenced her round +did not exist for him. She did not need to keep him at a distance. He +could be intimate without being familiar. + +And intimate he had become. There was no disputing it. From the first, +with his easy _savoir-faire_, he had waived ceremony, till at length +there was no ceremony left between them. He treated her like a lady. +What more could the most exacting demand? + +And yet Adam continued to call him "the curly-topped chap," and turned +him over to his son Rufus when he requested permission to go out in his +boat. + +And Rufus--Rufus turned with a gesture of disgust after the utterance of +his half-veiled threat, and spat with savage emphasis upon the sand. + +Adam uttered a chuckle that was not wholly unsympathetic, and began +deftly to coil the now disentangled rope. + +"Do you know what I'd do--if I was in your place?" he said. + +Rufus made a sound that was strictly noncommittal. + +Adam's quick eyes flung him a birdlike glance. "Why don't you come along +to The Ship and smoke a pipe with your old father of an evening?" he +said. "Once a week's not enough, not, that is, if you--" He broke off +suddenly, caught by a whistle that could not be resisted. + +Rufus was regarding the horizon with those brooding eyes of vivid blue. + +Abruptly Adam ceased to whistle. "When I was a young chap," he said, "I +didn't keep my courting for Sundays only. I didn't dress up, mind you. +That weren't my way. But I'd go along in my jersey and invite her out +for a bit of a cruise in the old boat. They likes a cruise, Rufus. You +try it, my boy! You try it!" + +The rope lay in an orderly coil at his feet, and he straightened +himself, rubbing his hands on his trousers. His son remained quite +motionless, his eyes still fixed as though he heard not. + +Adam stood up beside him, shrewdly alert. He had never before ventured +to utter words of counsel on this delicate subject. But having started, +he was minded to make a neat job of it. Adam had never been the man to +leave a thing half done. + +"Go to it, Rufus!" he said, dropping his voice confidentially. "Don't be +afraid to show your mettle! Don't be crowded out by that curly-topped +chap! You're worth a dozen of him. Just you let her know it, that's +all!" + +He dug his hands into his trousers pockets with the words, and turned to +go. + +Rufus moved then, moved abruptly as one coming out of a dream. His eyes +swooped down upon the lithe, active figure at his side. They held a +smile--a fiery smile that gleamed meteor-like and passed. + +"All right, Adam," he said in his deep-chested voice. + +And with a sidelong nod Adam wheeled and departed. He had done his +morning's work. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE PASSION-FLOWER + + +"Where's that Columbine?" said Mrs. Peck. + +A gay trill like the call of a blackbird in the dawning answered her. +Columbine, with a pink sun-bonnet over her black hair, was watering the +flowers in the little conservatory that led out of the drawing-room. She +had just come in from the garden, and a gorgeous red rose was pinned +upon her breast. Mrs. Peck stood in the doorway and watched her. + +The face above the red rose was so lovely that even her matter-of-fact +soul had to pause to admire. It was a perpetual wonder to her and a +perpetual fascination. The dark, unawakened eyes, the long, perfect +brows, the deep, rich colouring, all combined to make such a picture as +good Mrs. Peck realised to be superb. + +Again the pure contralto trill came from the red lips, and then, with a +sudden movement that had in it something of the grace of an alighting +bird, Columbine turned, swinging her empty can. + +"I've promised to take Mr. Knight to the Spear Point Caves by +moonlight," she said. "He's doing a moonlight study, and he doesn't +know the lie of the quicksand." + +"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Peck. "What made him ask you? There's Adam +knows every inch of the shore better nor what you do." + +"He didn't ask," said Columbine. "I offered. And I know the shore just +as well as Adam does, Aunt Liza. Adam himself showed me the lie of the +quicksand long ago. I know it like my own hand." + +Mrs. Peck pursed her lips. "I doubt but what you'd better take Adam +along too," she said. "I wouldn't feel easy about you. And there won't +be any moonlight worth speaking of till after ten. It wouldn't do for +you to be traipsing about alone even with Mr. Knight--nice young +gentleman as he be--at that hour." + +"Aunt Liza, I don't traipse!" Momentary indignation shone in the +beautiful eyes and passed like a gleam of light. "Dear Aunt Liza," +laughed Columbine, "aren't you funny?" + +"Not a bit," maintained Mrs. Peck. "I'm just common-sensical, my dear. +And it ain't right--it never were right in my young day--to go walking +out alone with a man after bedtime." + +"A man, Aunt Liza! Oh, but a man! An artist isn't a man--at least, not +an ordinary man." There was a hint of earnestness in Columbine's tone, +notwithstanding its lightness. + +But Mrs. Peck remained firm. "It wouldn't make it right, not if he was +an angel from heaven," she declared. + +Columbine's gay laugh had in it that quality of youth that surmounts all +obstacles. "He's much safer than an angel," she protested, "because he +can't fly. Besides, the Spear Point Caves are all on this side of the +Point. You could watch us all the time if you'd a mind to." + +But Mrs. Peck did not laugh. "I'd rather you didn't go, my dear," she +said. "So let that be the end of it, there's a good girl!" + +"Oh, but I--" began Columbine, and broke off short. "Goodness, how you +made me jump!" she said instead. + +Rufus, his burly form completely blocking the doorway, was standing half +in and half out of the garden, looking at her. + +"Lawks!" said Mrs. Peck. "So you did me! Good evening, Rufus! Are you +wanting Adam?" + +"Not specially," said Rufus. He entered, with massive, lounging +movements. "I suppose I can come in," he remarked. + +"What a question!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck. + +Columbine said nothing. She picked up her empty watering-can and swung +it carelessly on one finger, hunting for invisible weeds in the +geranium-pots the while. + +Mrs. Peck was momentarily at a loss. She was not accustomed to +entertaining Rufus in his father's absence. + +"Have a glass of mulberry wine!" she suggested. + +"Columbine, run and fetch it, dear! It's in the right-hand corner, third +shelf, of the cupboard under the stairs. I'm sure you're very welcome," +she added to Rufus, "but you must excuse me, for I've got to see to Mr. +Knight's dinner." + +"That's all right, Mother," said Rufus. + +He always called her mother; it was a term of deference with him rather +than affection. But Mrs. Peck liked him for it. + +"Sit you down!" she said hospitably. "And mind you make yourself quite +at home! Columbine will look after you. You'll be staying to supper, I +hope?" + +"Thanks!" said Rufus. "I don't know. Where's Adam?" + +"He's chopping a bit of wood in the yard. He don't want any help. You'll +see him presently. You stop and have a chat with Columbine!" said Mrs. +Peck; and with a smile and nod she bustled stoutly away. + +When Columbine returned with the mulberry wine and a glass on a tray the +conservatory was empty. She set down her tray and paused. + +There was a faintly mutinous curve about her soft lips, a gleam of +dancing mischief in her eyes. + +In a moment a step sounded on the path outside, and Rufus reappeared. He +had been out to fill her watering-can, and he deposited it full at her +feet. + +"Don't put it there!" she said, with a touch of sharpness. "I don't want +to tumble over it, do I? Thank you for filling it, but you needn't have +troubled. I've done." + +"Then it'll come in for tomorrow," said Rufus, setting the can +deliberately in a corner. + +Columbine turned to pour out a glass of Mrs. Peck's mulberry wine. + +"Only one glass?" said Rufus. + +She threw him a quizzing smile over her shoulder. "Well, you don't want +two, do you?" + +"No," said Rufus slowly. "But I don't drink--alone." + +She gave a low, gurgling laugh. "You'll be saying you don't smoke alone +next. If you want someone to keep you company, I'd better fetch Adam." + +She turned round to him with the words, offering the glass on the tray. +Her eyes were lowered, but the upward curl of the black lashes somehow +conveyed the impression that she was peeping through them. The tilt of +the red lips, with the pearly teeth just showing in a smile, was of so +alluring an enchantment that the most level-headed of men could scarcely +have failed to pause and admire. + +Rufus paused so long that at last she lifted those glorious eyes of hers +in semi-scornful interrogation. + +"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Don't you want it?" + +He made an odd gesture as of one at a loss to explain himself. "Won't +you drink first?" he said, his voice very low. + +"No, thank you," said Columbine briskly. "I don't like it." + +"Then--I don't like it either," he said. + +"Don't be silly!" she said. "Of course you do! I know you do! Take it, +and don't be ridiculous!" + +But Rufus turned away with solid resolution. "No, thanks," he said. + +Columbine set down the tray again with a hint of exasperation. "You're +just like a child," she said severely. "A great, overgrown boy, that's +what you are!" + +"All right," said Rufus, propping himself against the door-post. + +"It's not all right. It's time you grew up." Columbine picked up the +full glass, and, carrying it daintily, advanced upon him. "I suppose I +shall have to make you take it like medicine," she remarked. + +She stood against the door-post, facing him, upright, slender, exquisite +as an opening flower. + +"Drink, puppy, drink!" she said flippantly, and elevated the glass +towards her guest's somewhat grim lips. + +The sombre blue eyes came down to her with something of a flash. And in +the same moment Rufus's great right hand disengaged itself from his +pocket and grasped the slim wrist of the hand that held the wine. + +"You drink--first!" said Rufus, and guided the glass with unmistakable +resolution to the provocative red lips. + +She jerked back her head to avoid it, but the doorpost against which she +stood checked the backward movement. Before she could prevent it the +wine was in her mouth. + +She flung up her free hand and would have knocked the glass away, but +Rufus could be prompt of action when he chose. He caught it from her and +drained it almost in the same movement. Not a drop was spilt between +them. He set down the glass on a shelf of the conservatory, and propped +himself up once more with his hands in his pockets. + +Columbine's face was burning red; her eyes literally blazed. Her whole +body vibrated as if strung on wires. "How--dare you?" she said, and +showed her white teeth with the words like an angry tigress. + +He looked down at her, a faint smile in his blue eyes. "But I don't +drink--alone," he said in such a tone of gentle explanation as he might +have used to a child. + +She stamped her foot. "I hate you!" she said. "I'll never forgive you!" + +"A joke's a joke," said Rufus, still in the tone of a mild instructor. + +"A joke!" Her wrath enwrapped her like a flame. "It was not a joke! It +was a coarse--and hateful--trick!" + +"All right," said Rufus, as one giving up a hopeless task. + +"It's not all right!" flashed Columbine. "You're a bounder, an oaf, a +brute! I--I'll never speak to you again, unless--you--you--apologise!" + +He was still looking down with that vague hint of amusement in his +eyes--the look of a man who watches the miniature fury of some tiny +creature. + +"I'll do anything you like," he said with slow indulgence. "I didn't +know you'd turn nasty, or I wouldn't have done it." + +"Nasty!" echoed Columbine. And then her wrath went suddenly into a +superb gust of scorn. "Oh, you--you are beyond words!" she said. "You +had better get along to the bar and drink there. You'll find your own +kind there to drink with." + +"I'd rather drink with you," said Rufus. + +She uttered a laugh that was tremulous with anger. "You've done it for +the first and last time, my man," she said. + +With the words she turned like a darting, indignant bird, and left him. + +Someone was entering the drawing-room from the hall with a careless, +melodious whistle--a whistle that ended on a note of surprise as +Columbine sped through the room. The whistler--a tall, bronzed young man +in white flannels--stopped short to regard her. + +His eyes were grey and wary under absolutely level brows. His hair was +dark, with an inclination--sternly repressed--to waviness above the +forehead. He made a decidedly pleasant picture, as even Adam could not +have denied. + +Columbine also checked herself at sight of him, but the red blood was +throbbing at her temples. There was no hiding her agitation. + +"You seem in a hurry," remarked Knight. "I hope there is nothing wrong." + +His chin was modelled on firm lines, but there was a very distinct cleft +in it that imparted to him the look of one who could smile at most +things. His words were kindly, but they did not hold any very deep +concern. + +Columbine came to a stand, gripping the back of a chair to steady +herself. "Oh, I--I have been--insulted!" she panted. + +The straight brows went up a little; the man himself stiffened slightly. +Without further words he moved across to the door into the conservatory +and looked through it. He was in time to see Rufus's great, lounging +figure sauntering away in the direction of the wood-yard. + +Knight stood a moment or two and watched him, then quietly turned and +rejoined the girl. + +She was still leaning upon the chair, but she was gradually recovering +her self-control. As he drew near she made a slight movement as if to +resume her interrupted flight. But some other impulse intervened, and +she remained where she was. + +Knight came up and stood beside her. "What has he been doing to annoy +you?" he asked. + +She made a small, vehement gesture of disgust. "Oh, we won't talk of +him. He is an oaf. I dare say he doesn't know any better, but he'll +never have a chance of doing it again. I don't mix with the riff-raff." + +"He's Adam's son, isn't he?" questioned Knight. + +She nodded. "Yes, the great, hulking lubber! Adam's all right. I like +Adam. But Rufus--well, Rufus is a bounder, and I'll never have anything +more to say to him." + +"I think you are quite right to hold your head up above these fisher +fellows," remarked Knight, his grey eyes watching her with an appraising +expression. "They are as much out of place near you as a bed of bindweed +would be in the neighbourhood of a passion-flower." His glance took in +her still panting bosom. "I think you are something of a +passion-flower," he said, faintly smiling. "I wonder at any man daring +to risk offending you." + +Columbine stood up with the free movement of a disdainful princess. "Oh, +he's just a lout," she said. "He doesn't know any better. It isn't as if +you had done it." + +"That would have been different, would it?" said Knight. + +She smiled, but a sombre light still shone in her eyes. "Quite +different," she said with simplicity. "You see, you're a gentleman. +And--gentlemen--don't do unpleasant things like that." + +He laughed a little. "You make me feel quite nervous. What a shocking +thing it would be if I ever did anything to forfeit your good opinion." + +"You couldn't," said Columbine. + +"Couldn't!" He repeated the word with an odd inflection. + +"It wouldn't be you," she explained with the utmost gravity, as one +stating an irrefutable fact. + +"Thank you," said Knight. + +"Oh, it's not a compliment," she returned. "It's just the truth. There +are some people--a few people--that one knows one can trust through and +through. And you are one of them, that's all." + +"Is that so?" said Knight. "You know, that's rather--a colossal +thing--to say of any one." + +"Then you are colossal," said Columbine, smiling more freely. + +Knight turned aside, and picked up the sketch-book he had laid upon the +table on entering. "Are you sure you are not rash?" he said, rather in +the tone of one making a remark than asking a question. + +"Fairly sure," said Columbine. + +She followed him. Perhaps he had foreseen that she would. She stood by +his side. + +"May I see the latest?" she asked. + +He opened the book and showed her a blank page. "That is the latest," he +said. + +She looked at him interrogatively. + +"I am waiting for my--inspiration," he said. + +"I hope you will find it soon," she said. + +He answered her with steady conviction. "I shall find it tonight by +moonlight at the Spear Point Rock." + +Her face clouded a little. "I believe Adam is going to take you," she +said. + +"What?" said Knight. "You are never going to let me down?" + +She smiled with a touch of irony. "It was the Spear Point you wanted," +she reminded him. + +"And you," said Knight, "to show the way." + +Something in his tone arrested her. Her beautiful eyes sank suddenly to +the blank page he held. "Adam can do that--as well as I can," she said. + +"But you said you would," said Knight. His voice was low; he was looking +full at her. He saw the rich colour rising in her cheeks. "What is it?" +he said. "Won't they let you?" + +She raised her head abruptly, proudly. "I please myself," she said. "No +one has the ordering of me." + +His grey eyes shone a little. "Then it pleases you--to let me down?" he +questioned. + +Her look flashed suddenly up to his. She saw his expression and laughed. +"I didn't think you'd care," she said. "Adam knows the lie of the +quicksand. That's all you really want." + +"Oh, pardon me!" said Knight. "You are quite wrong, if you imagine that +I am indifferent as to who goes with me. Inspiration won't burn in a +cold place." + +She dropped her lids, still looking at him. "Isn't Adam inspiring?" she +asked. + +"He couldn't furnish the particular sort of inspiration I am needing +for my moonlight picture," said Knight. + +He spoke deliberately, but his brows were slightly drawn, belying the +coolness of his speech. + +"What is the sort of inspiration you are wanting?" asked Columbine. + +He smiled with a hint of provocation. "I'll tell you that when we get +there." + +Her answering smile was infinitely more provocative than his. "That will +be very interesting," she said. + +Knight closed his sketch-book. "I am glad to know," he said +thoughtfully, "that you please yourself, Miss Columbine. In doing so, +you have the happy knack of pleasing--others." + +He made her a slight, courtly bow, and turned away. + +He left her still standing at the table, looking after him with +perplexity and gathering resolution in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE MINOTAUR + + +"Not stopping to supper even? Well, you must be a darned looney!" + +Adam sat down astride his wood-block with the words, and looked up at +his son with the aggressive expression of a Scotch terrier daring a +Newfoundland. + +Rufus, with his hands in his pockets, leaned against the woodshed. He +made no reply of any sort to his father's brisk observation. Obviously +it made not the faintest impression upon him. + +After a moment or two he spoke, his pipe in the corner of his mouth. "If +that chap bathes off the Spear Point rocks when the tide's at the spring +he'll get into difficulties." + +"Who says he does?" demanded Adam. + +Rufus jerked his head. "I saw him--from my place--this afternoon. Tide +was going down, or the current would have caught him. Better warn him." + +"I did," responded Adam sharply. "Warned him long ago. Warned him of the +quicksand, too." + +Rufus grunted. "Then he's only himself to thank. Or maybe he doesn't +know a spring tide from a neap." + +"Oh, he's not such a fool as that," said Adam. + +Rufus grunted once again, and relapsed into silence. + +It was at this point that Mrs. Peck showed her portly person at the back +door of The Ship. + +"Why, Rufus," she said, "I thought you was in the front with Columbine." + +Rufus stood up with the deference that he never omitted to pay to Adam's +wife. "So I was," he said. "I came along here after to talk to Adam." + +Mrs. Peck's round eyes gave him a searching look. "Did you have your +mulberry wine?" she asked. + +"Yes, Mother." + +"You were mighty quick about it," commented Mrs. Peck. + +"Yes, he's in a hurry," said Adam, with one of his birdlike glances. +"Can't stop for anything, missus. Wants to get back to his supper." + +"I never!" said Mrs. Peck. "You aren't in that hurry, Rufus, surely! +Just as I was going to ask you to do something to oblige me, too!" + +"What's that?" said Rufus. + +Mrs. Peck descended into the yard with a hint of mystery. "Well, just +this," she said confidentially. "That there Mr. Knight, he's a very nice +young gentleman; but he's an artist, and you know, artists don't look at +things like ordinary folk. He wants to get a moonlight picture of the +Spear Point, and he's got our Columbine to say she'll take him there +tonight. Well, now, I don't think it's right, and I told her so. But, of +course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and +different-like from the rest. Still, I said as I'd rather she didn't, +and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know. It +wouldn't be hardly safe to let him go alone. He's a bit foolhardy too. +But Adam's not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise. So +I thought as how maybe you'd step into the breach and take Mr. Knight +along. Come, you won't refuse?" + +She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the +young fisherman's rugged face. + +Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips +and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole. + +"Yes, you go, Rufus!" he said, as Mrs. Peck paused. "You show him round! +I'd like him to know you." + +"What for?" said Rufus. + +Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a +wink and a grin. "Do you good to go into society," he said. "That's all +right, missus, he'll go. Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants +to start." + +"Wait a bit!" commanded Rufus. + +Mrs. Peck waited. She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as +his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that. +Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men. + +"It comes to this," said Rufus, speaking ponderously. "I'll go if I'm +wanted. But I'm not one for shoving myself in otherwise. Maybe the chap +won't be so keen himself when he knows he can't have Columbine to go +with him. Find that out first!" + +Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile. "Lor', Rufus! You've +got some sense," she said. "But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I +says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back." + +Adam chuckled. "Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I +know," he remarked. + +"Ah! She don't visit her tantrums on you," rejoined his wife. "You can +afford to smile." + +"And I does," said Adam. + +Rufus turned away. There was no smile on his countenance. He said +nothing, but there was that in his demeanour that clearly indicated that +he personally was neither amused nor disconcerted by the tantrums of +Columbine. + +He followed Mrs. Peck indoors, and sat down in the kitchen to await +developments. And Adam, whistling cheerfully, strolled to the bar. + +Mrs. Peck had to dish up the visitor's dinner before she could tackle +him upon the subject in hand. She trotted to and fro upon her task, too +intent for further speech with Rufus, who sat in unbroken silence, +gazing steadily before him with a Sphinx-like immobility that made of +him an impressive figure. + +The beefsteak was already in the dish, and Mrs. Peck was in the act of +pouring the gravy over it when there sounded a light step on the stone +of the passage and Columbine entered. + +She had removed her sun-bonnet and donned a dainty little apron. The +soft dark hair clustered tenderly about her temples. + +"Oh, Aunt Liza," she said, "if I didn't go and forget that Sally was out +tonight! I'm sorry I'm too late to help with the dinner. But I'll take +it in." + +She caught her breath at sight of the massive, silent figure seated +against the wall, but instantly recovered her composure and passed it by +with an upward tilt of the chin. + +"You needn't trouble yourself to do that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Peck, +with a touch of tartness. "I'll wait on Mr. Knight myself. You can lay +the supper in the parlour if you've a mind to be useful. There'll be +four to lay for." + +Columbine turned with something of a pounce. "No, there won't! There'll +be three," she said. "If that--oaf--stays to supper, I go without!" + +"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck. + +Rufus came out of his silence. "That's all right. I'm not staying to +supper," he said. + +"But--lor' sakes!--what's the matter?" questioned Mrs. Peck. "Have you +two been quarrelling?" + +"No, we haven't!" flashed Columbine. "I wouldn't stoop. But I'm not +going to sit down to supper with a man who hasn't learnt manners. I'd +sooner go without--much." + +Rufus remained absolutely unmoved. He made no attempt at +self-justification, though Mrs. Peck was staring from one to the other +in mystified interrogation. + +Columbine turned swiftly and caught up a cover for the savoury dish that +steamed on the table. "You'd better let me take this in before it gets +cold," she said. + +"No; put it on the rack!" commanded Mrs. Peck. "There's a drop of soup +to go in first. And, Columbine, my dear, I don't think it's right of you +to go losing your temper that way. Rufus is Adam's son, remember, and +you can't refuse to sit at table with him." + +"Leave her alone, Mother!" For the second time Rufus intervened. "I've +offended her. My mistake. I'll know better next time." + +His deep voice was wholly devoid of humour. It was, in fact, devoid of +any species of emotion whatever. Yet, oddly enough, the anger died out +of Columbine's face as she heard it. She turned to the tablecloth-press +and began to unwind it in silence. + +Mrs. Peck sniffed, and took up the soup-tureen. + +As she waddled out of the kitchen Columbine withdrew the parlour +tablecloth and turned round. + +"If you're really sorry," she said, "I'll forgive you." + +Rufus regarded her for several seconds in silence, a slow smile dawning +in his eyes. "Thank you," he said finally. + +"You are sorry then?" insisted Columbine. + +He shook his great bull-head, the smile still in his eyes. "I wouldn't +have missed it for anything," he said. + +There was no perceptible familiarity in the remark, and Columbine, after +brief consideration, decided to dismiss it without discussion. "Well, +let it be a lesson to you, and don't you ever do such a thing again!" +she said severely. "For I won't have you or any man lay hands on me--not +even in fun." + +"All right," said Rufus. + +He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if to remove all cause of +offence, and was rewarded by a swift smile from Columbine. The storm had +blown away. + +"I'll lay for four after all," she said, as she whisked out of the room. + +Rufus was still seated in solitary state in the kitchen when Mrs. Peck +returned from the little coffee-room where she had been serving her +guest. + +She peered round with caution ere she came close to him and spoke. + +"It's as you thought. He don't want to go with either you or Adam." + +Rufus's face remained unchanged; it was slightly bovine of expression as +he received the news. "We'll both get to bed in good time then," was his +comment. + +Mrs. Peck's smooth brow drew in momentary exasperation. She had expected +something more dramatic than this. + +"I'm glad you're so easily satisfied," she said. "But let me tell +you--I'm not!" + +She paused to see if this piece of information would take more effect +than the first, but again Rufus proved a disappointment. Neither by word +nor look did he express any sympathy. + +Mrs. Peck continued, it being contrary to her nature to leave anything +to the imagination of her hearers. "If he'd been content to go with one +of you, I wouldn't have given it another thought. Goodness knows, I'm +not of a suspicious turn. But the moment I mention the matter, he turns +round with his sweetest smile and he says, 'Oh, don't you trouble, Mrs. +Peck!' he says. 'I quite understand. Miss Columbine explained it all, +and I quite see your point. It ought to have occurred to me sooner,' he +says, smiling with them nice teeth of his, 'but, if you'll believe me, +it didn't.' And then, when I suggested maybe he'd like you or Adam to go +with him instead, it was, 'No, no, Mrs. Peck. I wouldn't ask it of 'em. +I couldn't drag any man at the chariot-wheels of Art. If I did, she +would see to it that the chariot was empty.' He most always talks like +that," ended Mrs. Peck in an aggrieved tone. "He's that airy in his +ways." + +A sudden trill of laughter from the doorway caused her to straighten +herself sharply and trot to the fireplace with a guilty air. + +Columbine entered, light of foot, her eyes brimful of mirth. "You're +caught, Aunt Liza! Yes, you're caught!" she commented ungenerously. "I +know exactly what you were saying. Shall I tell you? No, p'raps I'd +better not. I'll tell you what you looked like instead, shall I? You +looked exactly like that funny old speckled hen in the yard who always +clucks such a lot. And Rufus"--she threw him a merry glance from which +all resentment had wholly departed--"Rufus looks--and is--just like a +great red ox." + +"Don't you be pert!" said Mrs. Peck, stooping stoutly over the fire. +"Get a duster and dust them plates!" + +Columbine laughed again with her chin in the air. She found a duster and +occupied herself as desired. + +Her eyes were upon her work. Plainly she was not looking at Rufus, not +apparently thinking of him. But--very suddenly--without changing her +attitude, she flashed him a swift glance. He was looking straight at +her, and in his blue eyes was an intense, deep glow as of flaming +spirit. + +Columbine's look shot away from him with the rapidity of a swallow on +the wing. The colour deepened in her cheeks. + +"P'raps he's almost more like a prize bull," she said meditatively. +"Perhaps he's a Minotaur, Aunt Liza. Do you think he is?" + +"My dear, I don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Peck, with +a touch of acidity. + +Columbine laughed a little. "Do you know, Rufus?" she said. + +She did not look at him with the question; there was a quivering dimple +in her red cheek that came and went. + +"I'd like to know," said Rufus with simplicity. + +"Would you, really?" Columbine polished the last plate vigorously and +set it down. "The Minotaur," she said, in the tone of a schoolmistress +delivering a lecture, "was a monster, half-bull, half-man, who lived in +a place like the Spear Point Caves, and devoured young men and maidens. +You live nearer to the Caves than any one else, don't you, Rufus?" + +Again she ventured a darting glance at him. His look was still upon her, +but its fiery quality was less apparent. He met the challenge with his +slow, indulgent smile. + +"Yes, I live there. I don't devour anybody. I'm not--that sort of +monster." + +Columbine shook her head. "I'm not so sure of that," she said. "But I +dare say you'd tame." + +"P'raps you'd like to do it," suggested Rufus. + +It was his first direct overture, and Columbine, who had angled for it, +experienced a thrill of triumph. But she was swift to mask her +satisfaction. She tossed her head, and turned: "Oh, I've no time to +waste that way," she said. "You must do your own taming, Mr. Minotaur. +When you're quite civilised, p'raps I'll talk to you." + +She was gone with the words, carrying her plates with her. + +"She's a deal too pert," observed Mrs. Peck to the saucepan she was +stirring. "It's my belief now that that Mr. Knight's been putting ideas +into her head. She's getting wild; that's what she is." + +Knowing Rufus, she expected no response, and for several seconds none +came. + +Then to her surprise she heard his voice, deep and sonorous as the +bell-buoy that was moored by the Spear Point Reef. + +"Maybe she'd tame," he said. + +And "Goodness gracious unto me!" said Mrs. Peck, as she lifted her +saucepan off the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE RISING TIDE + + +A long dazzling pathway of moonlight stretched over the sea, starting +from the horizon, ending at the great jutting promontory of the Spear +Point. The moon was yet three nights from the full. The tide was rising, +but it would not be high for another two hours. + +The breakers ran in, one behind the other, foaming over the hidden +rocks, splashing wildly against the grim wall of granite that stood +sharp-edged to withstand them. It was curved like a scimitar, that rock, +and within its curve there slept, when the tide was low, a pool. When +the tide rose the waters raged and thundered all around the rock, but +when it sank again the still, deep pool remained, unruffled as a +mountain tarn and as full of mystery. + +Over a tumble of lesser rocks that bounded the pool to shoreward the +wary might find a path to the Spear Point Caves; but the path was +difficult, and there were few who had ever attempted it. For the +quicksand lay like a golden barrier between the outer beach and the +rocks that led thither. + +It was an awesome spot. Many a splinter of wreckage had been tossed in +over the Spear Point as though flung in sport from a giant hand. And +when the water was high there came a hollow groaning from the inner +caves as though imprisoned spirits languished there. + +But on that night of magic moonlight the only sound was the murmurous +splash of the rising waves as they met the first grim rocks of the +Point. Presently they would dash in thunder round the granite blade, and +the sleeping pool would be turned to a smother of foam. + +On the edge of the pool a woman's figure clad in white stood balanced +with outstretched arms. So still was the water, so splendid the +moonlight, that the whole of her light form was mirrored there--a +perfect image of nymph-like grace. She sang a soft, low, trilling song +like the song of a blackbird awaking to the dawn. + +"By Jupiter!" Knight murmured to himself. "If I could get her only +once--only once--as--she--is!" + +The gleam of the hunter was in his look. He stood on the rocks some +yards away from her, gazing with eyes half-shut. + +Suddenly she turned herself, and across the intervening space her voice +came to him, half-mocking, half-alluring, "Have you found your +inspiration yet?" + +"Not yet," he said. + +She raised her shoulders with a humorous gesture, "Hasn't the magic +begun to work?" + +He came towards her, moving slowly and with caution. "Don't move!" he +said. + +She waited for him on the edge of the pool. There was laughter in her +eyes, laughter and the sublime daring of innocence. + +He reached her. They stood together on the same flat rock. He bent to +her, in his eyes the burning worship of beauty. + +"Columbine!" he said. "Witch! Enchantress! Queen!" + +The red blood raced into her face. Her eyes shone into his with a sudden +glory--the glory of the awaking soul. But the woman-instinct in her +checked the first quick impulse of surrender. + +She made a little motion away from him. She laughed and veiled her eyes +from the fiery adoration that flamed upon her. "The magic is +working--evidently," she said. "What a good thing I brought you here!" + +"Yes; it is a good thing," he said, and in his voice she heard the deep +note of a mastery that would not be denied. "Do you know what you have +done to me, you goddess? You have opened the eyes of my heart. I am +dazzled. I am blinded. I believe I am possessed. When I paint my picture +--it will be such as the world has never seen." + +"Hadn't you better begin it?" whispered Columbine. + +He held out his hand to her--a hand that was not wholly steady. "Not +yet," he said. "The vision is too near, too wonderful. How shall I paint +the rapture that I have hardly yet dared to contemplate? Columbine!" + +His voice suddenly pleaded, and as though in answer she laid her hand in +his. But she did not raise her eyes. She palpitated from head to foot +like a captured bird. + +"You are not--afraid?" he whispered. + +"I don't know," she whispered back. "Not of you--not of you!" + +"Ah!" he said. "We are caught in the same net. There is nothing terrible +in that. The same magic is working in us both. Let it work, dear! We +understand each other. Why should there be anything to fear?" + +But still she did not raise her eyes, and still she trembled in his +hold. "I never thought," she faltered, "never dreamed. Oh, is it true?" + +"True that you are the most beautiful creature that this earth +contains?" he said, and his voice throbbed upon the words. "True that +the very sight of you turns my blood to fire? Aphrodite, goddess and +sorceress, do you doubt that? Wait till you see my picture, and then +ask! I have found my inspiration tonight--yes, I have found it--but it +is so immense--so overwhelming--that I cannot grasp it yet. Tonight, +dear, just for tonight--let me worship at your feet! This madness must +have its way. In the morning I shall be sane again. Tonight--tonight I +tread Olympus with the Immortals." + +He was drawing her towards him, and Columbine--Columbine, who suffered +no man's hand upon her--was yielding slowly, but inevitably, to the +persuasion of his touch. Just at the last, indeed, she made a small, +wholly futile attempt to free herself; but the moment she did so his +hold became the hold of the conqueror, and with a faint laugh she flung +aside the instinct that had prompted it. The next instant, freely and +splendidly, she raised her downcast face and abandoned herself utterly +to him. + +To give without stint was the impulse of her passionate, Southern +nature, and she gave freely, royally, that night. The magic that ran in +the veins of both was too compelling to be resisted. The girl, with her +half-awakened soul, the man, with his fiery thirst for beauty, were +caught in the great current that sweeps like a tidal wave around the +world, and it bore them swiftly, swiftly, whither neither he in his +restlessness nor she in her in experience realised or cared. If the +sound of the breakers came to them from afar they heeded it not. They +were too far away to matter as yet, and Knight had steered a safe course +for himself in troubled seas before. As for Columbine, she knew only the +rapture of love triumphant, and tasted perfect safety in the holding of +her lover's arms. He had won her with scarcely a struggle, and she +gloried with an ecstasy that was in its way sublime in the completeness +of her surrender. On such a night as that it seemed to her that the +whole world lay at her feet, and she knew no fear. + +The still pool slept in the moonlight, a lake of silver, unspeakably +calm. Beyond the outstretched blade of rock the great waters rose and +rose. The murmur of them had swelled to a roar. The splash of them +mounted higher and ever higher. Suddenly a crest of foam gleamed like a +tongue of lightning at the point of the curve. The pool stirred as if +awakening. The moonlight on its surface was shivered in a thousand +ripples. They broke in a succession of tiny wavelets against the +encircling rocks. + +Another silver crest appeared, burst in thunder, and in a moment the +pool was flooded with tossing water. + +"Do you see that?" whispered Columbine. "It is like my life." + +They stood together under the frowning cliff and watched the wonder of +the pool's awakening. Knight's arm held her close pressed to his side. +He could feel the beating of her heart. She stood with her face upturned +to his and all the glory of love's surrender shining in her eyes. + +He caught his breath as he looked at her. He stooped and kissed the red, +red lips that gave so generously. "Is my love as the rising tide to you, +sweet?" he murmured. + +"It is more!" she answered passionately. "It is more! It is the tidal +wave that comes so seldom--maybe only once in a lifetime--and carries +all before it." + +He pressed her closer. "My passion-flower!" he said. "My queen!" + +He kissed the throbbing whiteness of her throat, the loose clusters of +her hair. He laid his hot face against her neck, and held it so, not +breathing. Her arms stretched upwards, clasping him. She was +panting--panting as one in deep waters. + +"I love you! I love you!" she whispered tensely. "Oh, how I love you!" + +Again there came the thunder of the surf. The waters of the pool leapt +as if a giant hand had churned them. The foam from beyond the reef +overspread them like snow. The whole world became full of the sound of +surging waters. + +Knight opened his eyes. "The tide is coming up fast," he said. "We must +be getting back." + +She clung closer to him. "I could die with you on a night like this," +she said. + +He crushed her to his heart. "Ah, goddess!" he said. "You couldn't die! +But I am only mortal, and the tide won't wait." + +Again the swirling breakers swept around the Point. Reluctantly she came +to earth. The pool had become a seething whirl of water. + +"Yes," she said, "we must go, and quickly--quickly! It rises so fast +here." + +Sure-footed as a doe over the slippery rocks, she led the way. They left +the magic place and the dazzling tumble of moonlit water, the dark +caves, the enchanted strand. Progress was not easy, but Knight had been +that way before, though only by day. He followed his guide closely, and +when presently they emerged upon level sand, he overtook and walked +beside her. + +She slipped her hand into his. "It's the lie of the quicksand that's +puzzling," she said, "if you don't know it well." + +"I am in thy hands, O Queen," he made light reply. "Lead me whither thou +wilt!" + +She laughed--a low, sweet laugh of sheer happiness. "And if I lead you +astray?" + +"I would follow you down to the nethermost millstone," he vowed. + +Her hand tightened upon his. She paused a moment, looking out over the +stretch of sand that intervened between them and the little +fishing-quay. He had safely negotiated that stretch of sand by daylight, +though even then it had needed an alert eye to detect that slight +ooziness of surface that denoted the presence of the sea-swamp. But by +night, even in that brilliant moonlight, it was barely perceptible. +Columbine herself did not trust to appearances. She had learnt the way +from Adam as a child learns a lesson by heart. He had taught her to know +the danger-spot by the shape of the cliffs above it. + +After a very brief pause to take her bearings, she moved forward with +absolute assurance. Knight accompanied her with unquestioning +confidence. His faith in his own luck was as profound as his faith in +the girl at his side. And the tumult in his veins that night was such as +to make him insensible of danger. The roar of the rising tide +exhilarated him. He walked with the stride of a conqueror, free and +unafraid, his face to the sea. + +Unerringly she led him, but she did not speak again until they had made +the passage and the treacherous morass of sand was left behind. + +Then, with a deep breath, she stopped. "Now we are safe!" + +"Weren't we safe before?" he asked carelessly. + +Her eyes sought his; she gave a little shiver. "Oh, are we ever safe?" +she said. "Especially when we are happy? That quicksand makes one +think." + +"Never spoil the present by thinking of the future!" said Knight +sententiously. + +She took him seriously. "I don't. I want to keep the present just as it +is--just as it is. I would like to stay with you here for ever and ever, +but in another half-hour--in less--the tide will be racing over this +very spot, and we shall be gone." Her voice vibrated; she cast a glance +behind. "One false step," she said, "too sharp a turn, too wide a curve, +and we'd have been in the quicksand! It's like that all over. It's life, +and it's full of danger, whichever way we turn." + +He looked at her curiously. "Why, what has come to you?" he said. + +She caught her breath in a sound that was like a sob. "I don't know," +she said. "It's being so madly happy that has frightened me. It can't +last. It never does last." + +He smiled upon her philosophically. "Then let us make the most of it +while it does!" he said. "Tonight will pass, but--don't forget--there is +tomorrow." + +She answered him feverishly. "The moon may not shine tomorrow." + +He laughed, drawing her to him. "I can do without the moon, queen of my +heart." + +She went into his arms, but she was trembling. "I feel--somehow--as if +someone were watching us," she whispered. + +"Exactly my own idea," he said. "The moon is a bit too intrusive +tonight. I shan't weep if there are a few clouds tomorrow." + +She laughed a little dubiously. "We couldn't cross the quicksand if the +light were bad." + +"We could get down to the Point by the cliff-path," he pointed out. "I +went that way only this afternoon." + +"Ah! But it is very steep, and it passes Rufus's cottage," she murmured. + +"What of it?" he said indifferently. "I'm sure he sleeps like a log." + +She turned from the subject. "Besides, you must have moonlight for your +picture. And the moon won't last." + +"My picture!" He pressed her suddenly closer. "Do you know what my +picture is going to be?" + +"Tell me!" she whispered. + +"Shall I?" He turned gently her face up to his own. "Shall I? Dare I?" + +She opened her eyes wide--those glorious, trusting eyes. "But why +should you be afraid to tell me?" + +He laughed again softly, and kissed her lips. "I will make a rough +sketch in the morning and show it you. It won't be a study--only an +idea. You are going to pose for the study." + +"I?" she said, half-startled. + +"You--yes, you!" His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Haven't you realised +yet that you are my inspiration?" he said. "It is going to be the +picture of my life--'Aphrodite the Beautiful!'" + +She quivered afresh at his words. "Am I really--so beautiful?" she +faltered. "Would you think so if--if you didn't love me?" + +"Would I have loved you if you weren't?" laughed Knight. "My darling, +you are exquisite as a passion-flower grown in Paradise. To worship you +is as natural to me as breathing. You are heaven on earth to me." + +"You love me--because of that?" + +"I love you," he answered, "soul and body, because you are you. There is +no other reason, heart of my heart. When my picture of pictures is +painted, then--perhaps--you will see yourself as I see you--and +understand." + +She uttered a quick sigh, clinging to him with a hold that was almost +convulsive. "Ah, yes! To see myself with your eyes! I want that. I shall +know then--how much you love me." + +"Will you? But will you?" he said, softly derisive. "You will have to +show me yourself and your love--all there is of it--before you can do +that." + +She lifted her head from his shoulder. The fire that he had kindled in +her soul was burning in her eyes. "I am all yours--all yours," she told +him passionately. "All that I have to offer is your own." + +His face changed a little. The tender mockery passed, and an expression +that was oddly out of place there succeeded it. "Ah, you shouldn't tell +me that, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was low and held a touch of +pain. "I might be tempted to take too much--more than I have any right +to take." + +"You have a right to all," she said. + +But he shook his head. "No--no! You are too young." + +"Too young to love?" she said, with quick scorn. + +His arm was close about her. "No," he answered soberly. "Only so young +that you may--possibly--make the mistake of loving too well." + +"What do you mean?" Her voice had a startled note; she pressed nearer to +him. + +He lifted a hand and pointed to the silver pathway on the sea. "I mean +that love is just moonshine--just moonshine; the dream of a night that +passes." + +"Not in a night!" she cried, and there was anguish in the words. + +He bent again swiftly and kissed her lips. "No, not in a night, +sweetheart. Not even in two. But at last--at last--_tout passe_!" + +"Then it isn't love!" she said with conviction. + +He snapped his fingers at the moonlight with a gesture half-humorous, +yet half-defiant. "It is life," he said, "and the irony of life. Don't +be too generous, my queen of the sea! Give me what I ask--of your +graciousness! But--don't offer me more! Perhaps I might take it, and +then--" + +He turned with the words, as if the sentence were ended, and Columbine +went with him, bewildered but too deeply fascinated to feel any serious +misgiving. She did not ask for any further explanation, something about +him restrained her. But she knew no doubt, and when he halted in the +shadow of the deserted quay and took her face once more between his +hands with the one word, "Tomorrow!" she lifted eyes of perfect trust to +his and answered simply, "Yes, tomorrow!" + +And the rapture of his kisses was all-sufficing. She carried away with +her no other memory but that. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MIDSUMMER MORNING + + +It was two mornings later, very early on Midsummer Day, that Rufus the +Red, looking like a Viking in the crystal atmosphere of sky and sea, +rowed the stranger with great, swinging strokes through the fishing +fleet right out into the burning splendour of the sun. Knight had +entered the boat in the belief that he was going to see something of the +raising of the nets. But it became apparent very soon that Rufus had +other plans for his entertainment, for he passed his father by with no +more than a jerk of the head, which Adam evidently interpreted as a sign +of farewell rather than of greeting, and rowed on without a pause. + +Knight, with his sketch-book beside him, sat in the stern. He had never +taken much interest in Rufus before; but now, seated facing him, with +the giant muscles and grim, unresponsive countenance of the man +perpetually before his eyes, the selecting genius in him awoke and began +to appraise. + +Rufus wore a grey flannel shirt, open at the neck, displaying a broad +red chest, immensely powerful, with a bull-like strength that every +swing of the oars brought into prominence. He had not the appearance of +exerting himself unduly, albeit he was pulling in choppy water against +the tide. + +His blue eyes gazed ever straight at the shore he was leaving. He seemed +so withdrawn into himself as to be oblivious of the fact that he was not +alone. Knight watched him, wondering if any thoughts were stirring in +the slow brain behind that massive forehead. Columbine had declared that +the man was an oaf, and he felt inclined to agree with her. And yet +there was something in the intensity of the fellow's eyes that held his +attention, the possibility of the actual existence of an unknown element +that did not fit into that conception of him. They were not the eyes of +a mere animal. There was no vagueness in their utter stillness. Rather +had they the look of a man who waits. + +Curiosity began to stir within him. He wondered if by judicious probing +he could penetrate the wall of aloofness with which his companion seemed +to be surrounded. It would be interesting to know if the fellow really +possessed any individuality. + +Airily he broke the silence. "Are you going to take me straight into the +temple of the sun? I thought I was out to see the fishing." + +The remote blue eyes came back as it were out of the far distance and +found him. There came to Knight an odd, wholly unwonted, sensation of +smallness. He felt curiously like a pigmy disturbing the meditations of +a giant. + +Rufus looked at him for several seconds of uninterrupted rowing before, +in his deep, resounding voice, he spoke. "They won't be taking up the +nets for a goodish while yet. We shall be back in time." + +"The idea is to give me a run for my money first, eh?" inquired Knight +pleasantly. + +He had not anticipated the sudden fall of the red brows that greeted his +words. He felt as if he had inadvertently trodden upon a match. + +"No," said Rufus slowly, speaking with a strangely careful accent, as if +his mind were concentrated upon being absolutely intelligible to his +listener. "That was not my idea." + +The spirit of adventure awoke in Knight. There was something behind this +granite calmness of demeanour then. He determined to draw it forth, even +though he struck further sparks in the process. + +"No?" he said carelessly. "Then why this pleasure trip? Did you bring me +out here just to show me--the 'Pit of the Burning'?" + +His eyes were upon the dazzling glory of the newly risen sun as he threw +the question. Rufus's massive head and shoulders were strongly outlined +against it. He had ceased to row, but the boat still shot forward, +impelled by the last powerful sweep of the oars, the water streaming +past in a rush of foam. + +Slowly, like the hammer-strokes of a deep-toned bell, came Rufus's voice +in answer. "It wasn't to show you anything I brought you here. It was +just to tell you something." + +"Really?" Knight's interest was thoroughly aroused. He became alert to +the finger-tips. There was something in the deliberate utterance that +conveyed a sense of danger. A wary gleam shone in his eyes under their +level brows. It was one of his principles when dealing with an uncertain +situation never to betray surprise. "And what may this valuable piece of +information be?" he inquired, with a smile. + +Rufus shipped his oars steadily, gravely, with purpose. "I saw you cross +the quicksand last night," he said. + +"Indeed!" Knight's voice was of the most casual quality. He was feeling +for his cigarette-case. + +Rufus continued heavily, fatefully, gathering force with every word, as +a loosened rock beginning to roll down a mountain side. "The light was +bad. It was a tomfool thing to do. And Columbine was with you." + +Knight raised his shoulders ever so slightly. "Or rather--I was with +her. Miss Columbine knows the lie of the quicksand. I--do not." + +Rufus went on as if he had not spoken. "There's danger all along that +beach as far as the Spear Point. Adam will tell you the same. When it's +a spring tide there's times when there's such a swell that it's round +the Point and over the pool like a tidal wave. You'll hear the +bell-buoy tolling when there's a swell like that. We call it the Death +Current hereabouts, because there's nothing could live in it, and the +bell always tolls. And once it comes up like that the way to the +cliff-path is under water in less than thirty seconds. And the quicksand +is the only chance left." He paused; it was as if the rock halted for a +moment on the edge of the precipice before plunging finally into the +abyss of silence below. "When there's a ground swell," he said, "the +quicksand will pull a man down quicker than hell. And there's no +one--not Adam himself--can tell the lay of it for certain when the light +is bad." + +His mouth closed upon the words like the snap of a strong spring. Knight +waited for more, but none came. Whatever the thought behind the warning +that he had just uttered it was evident that Rufus had no intention of +giving it expression. He had uttered the girl's name with no more +emotion than that of his father, but it seemed to Knight that by that +very fact he had managed to convey a warning more potent than any that +had followed. Otherwise he would scarcely have taken the trouble to +mention her. The possibility of subtlety in this great, slow-speaking +giant piqued him to a keener interest. He resolved to probe a little +deeper. + +"Miss Columbine is a very reliable guide," he remarked. "If you and Adam +have been her instructors in shore-craft, she does you credit." + +His remark went into utter silence. Rufus, with huge hands loosely +clasped between his knees, appeared to be engrossed in watching the +progress of the boat as she drifted gently on the rising tide. His face +was utterly blank of expression, unless a certain grim fixity could be +described as such. + +Knight became slightly exasperated. Was the fellow no more than the fool +Columbine believed him to be after all? He determined to settle this +question once and for all at a single stroke. + +"I suppose she has all you fellows at Spear Point at her feet?" he said, +with an easy smile. "But I hope you are all too large-minded to grudge a +poor artist the biggest find that has ever come his way." + +There was a pause, but the burning blue eyes were no longer fixed upon +the sparkling ripples through which they had travelled. They were turned +upon Knight's face, searching, piercing, intent. Before he spoke again, +Knight's doubt as to the existence of a brain behind the massive brow +was fully set at rest. + +"There is another thing I have to say," said Rufus. + +Knight's smile broadened encouragingly. "By all means let us hear it!" +he said. + +Rufus proceeded. "You speak of Columbine as if she were just a bit of +amber or such-like as you'd found on the shore and picked up and put in +your pocket. You speak as if she's your property to do what you like +with. That's just what she is not. You're making love to her. I know +it. I seen it. And it's got to stop." + +He spoke with blunt force; his hands were suddenly locked upon each +other in a hard grip. + +Knight lifted his shoulders; his smile had become whimsical. He had +drawn the fellow at last. "I thought you'd seen something," he remarked, +"by your way. But who could help making love to a girl with a face like +that? It would take a heart of stone to resist it. Why, even you"--and +his look challenged Rufus with careless derision--"even you have fallen +to that temptation before now, or I'm much mistaken. But I gather that +your attentions did not meet with a very favourable response." + +He was baiting the animal now, taunting him, with the semi-humorous +malice of the mischievous schoolboy. He had no particular grudge against +Rufus, but he had a lively desire to see him squirm. + +But this desire was not to be gratified. Rufus met the thrust without +the faintest hint of feeling. + +"What you think," he said, in his weighty fashion, "has nothing to do +with me. What you do is all that matters. And I tell you straight"--a +blue flame suddenly leapt up like a volcanic light in the sombre +eyes--"that no man that hasn't honest intentions by her is going to make +love to Columbine." + +"Great Jove!" mocked Knight, with his careless laugh. "And who told you, +most worthy swain, what my intentions were?" + +Rufus leaned towards him slowly, with something of the action of a +crouching beast. "No one told me," he said in a voice that was deeply +menacing. "But--I know." + +Knight made a gesture of supreme indifference. "You are on an entirely +wrong scent," he observed. "But you seem to be enjoying it." He paused +to take out a cigarette. "Have a smoke!" he suggested after a moment, +proffering his case. + +Rufus did not so much as see it. His whole attitude was one of strain, +as if he barely held himself back from springing at the other's throat. + +Knight, however, was elaborately unconscious of any tension. He smiled +and closed his cigarette case. Then with the utmost deliberation he +searched for his matches, found them, and lighted his cigarette. + +Having puffed forth the first deep breath with luxurious enjoyment, he +spoke again. "It is a little difficult to get a man of your stamp to +comprehend the fact that an artist--a true artist--is not one to be +greatly drawn by the grosser things of life, more especially when he is +in ardent pursuit of that elusive flame called inspiration. But you +would hardly grasp a condition in which the body--and the impulses of +the body--are in complete subjection to the aspirations of the mind. +You"--he blew forth a cloud of smoke--"are probably incapable of +realizing that the worship of beauty can be of so purely artistic a +nature as to be practically free from the physical element, certainly +independent of it. I am taking you out of your depth, I know, but it is +hard to make myself clear to an untrained mind. I might try a homely +simile and suggest to you that you go a-fishing, not for love of the +fish, but because it is your profession; but that does not wholly +illustrate my meaning, for I love everything in the way of beauty that +comes my way. I follow beauty like a guiding star. And sometimes--but +seldom, oh, very seldom"--a sudden odd thrill sounded in his voice as if +by accident some hidden string had been struck and set vibrating--"I +fulfil my desire--I realise my dream--I grasp and hold a spark of the +Divine." He paused again, his face to the gold of the dawn and in his +eyes the far-off rapture of one who watches some soaring flight of +fancy. Then abruptly, lightly, he resumed his normal, half-quizzing +demeanour. "Doubtless I weary you," he said. "But you mustn't run away +with the idea that I am in love because I feel myself inspired. It may +sound callous to you, but if Miss Columbine were to lose her exquisite +beauty (which heaven forbid!) I should never voluntarily look upon her +again. That I take it, is the test of love, which, we are told, is blind +to all defects." + +He ceased to speak, and carelessly, yet with obvious enjoyment, he sent +forth another cloud of smoke into the crystal air of the morning. + +He was not looking at Rufus. It was abundantly evident that he had not +realised how near to open violence the young fisherman had been. His +nonchalant explanation was plainly all-sufficing in his own opinion, +and during the very marked silence that followed he displayed no +faintest hint of anxiety or even interest as to the fashion of its +reception. + +The boat was rocking lightly on the swell; the sea all around was +flooded with gold. The great jagged outline of the Spear Point looked +like the castle of a dream. The haze of the newly risen sun had touched +with magic all the world. Knight's eyes were half-closed. He had the +look of a man at peace with himself. + +And Rufus relaxed. The tension went out of his attitude; the volcanic +fires died down. For half a minute or more he sat absolutely passive. +Then slowly, with massive deliberation, he moved, unshipped the oars, +and bent himself to pull. In another ten seconds the boat was rushing +through the water under the compulsion of his powerful strokes, heading +straight for the boats of the fishing fleet that dotted the bay.... + +It must have been fully a quarter of an hour later that Knight, having +finished his cigarette, came out of his reverie. + +"And so, you see," he remarked in the tone of one pleasantly rounding +off a conversation, "until my picture is painted I remain the slave of +my dream. I wonder if I have succeeded at all in making myself +intelligible." + +His eyes opened lazily and met Rufus's sombre gaze; they held a laughing +challenge, the easy challenge of the practised fencer who condescends +to try a bout with ignorance. + +Stolidly Rufus met the look. If he realised the challenge he did not +accept it. He had barred himself in once more behind an impenetrable +wall of unresponsiveness. His gaze was once more obscure and bovine. All +hint of violence was gone from his bearing. Only solid force +remained--the force that drove the boat strongly, unerringly, through +the golden-crested waves. + +"If you're going to do a picture of Columbine," he said slowly, "I hope +it'll be a good one." + +"It will probably be--great," said Knight, and flicked some ash from his +sleeve with the complacent air of a man who has accomplished his +purpose. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MIDSUMMER MOON + + +It was very late that night, just as the first long rays of a full moon +streamed across a dreaming sea, that the door that led out of the +conservatory at The Ship softly opened, and a slim figure, clad in a +long, dark garment, flitted forth. Neither to right nor left did it +glance, but, closing the door without sound, slipped out over the grass +almost as if it moved on wings, and so down to the beach-path that wound +steeply to the shore. + +The tide was rising with the moon; the roar of it swelled and sank like +the mighty breathing of a giant. The waters shone in the gathering light +in a vast silver shimmer almost too dazzling for the eye to endure. In +another hour it would be as light as day. A few dim clouds were floating +over the stars, filmy wisps that had escaped from the ragged edges of a +dark curtain that had veiled the sun before its time. The breeze that +had blown them free wandered far overhead; below, especially on the +shore, it was almost tropically warm, and no breath of air seemed to +stir. + +Swiftly went the flitting figure, like a brown moth drawn by the +glitter of the moonlight. There was no other living thing in sight. + +All the lights of Spear Point village had gone out long since. Rufus's +cottage, with its slip of garden on the shelf of the cliff, was no more +than a faint blur of white against the towering sandstone behind. No +light had shone there all the evening, for the daylight had not died +till ten, and he was often in bed at that hour. The fishing fleet would +be out again with the dawn if the weather held, or even earlier; and the +hours of sleep were precious. + +Down on the rocks on the edge of the sleeping pool a grey shadow lurked +amidst darker shadows. A faint scent of cigarette smoke hung about the +silver beach--a drifting suggestion intangible as the magic of the +night. + +Could it have been this faint, floating fragrance that drew the flitting +brown moth by way of the quicksand, swiftly, swiftly, along the moonlit +shore travelling with mysterious certainty, irresistibly attracted? +There was no pause in its rapid progress, though the course it followed +was tortuous. It pursued, with absolute confidence, an invisible, +winding path. And ever the roar of the sea grew louder and louder. + +Across the pool, carved in the blackness of the outstretched curving +scimitar of rock, there was a ledge, washed smooth by every tide, but a +foot or more above the water when the tide was out. It was inaccessible +save by way of the pool itself, and yet it had the look of a pathway cut +in the face of the Spear Point Rock. The moonlight gleamed upon its wet +surface. In the very centre of the great curving rock there was a deeper +darkness that might have been a cave. + +It must have been after midnight when the little brown figure that had +flitted so securely through the quicksand came with its noiseless feet +over the tumble of rocks that lay about the pool, and the shadow that +lurked in the shadows rose up and became a man. + +They met on the edge of the pool, but there was about the lesser form a +hesitancy of movement, a shyness, almost a wildness, that seemed as if +it would end in flight. + +But the man remained quite motionless, and in a moment or two the +impulse passed or was controlled. Two quivering hands came forth to him +as if in supplication. + +"So you are waiting!" a low voice said. + +He took the hands, bending to her. The moonlight made his eyes gleam +with a strange intensity. + +"I have been waiting a long time," he said. + +Even then she made a small, fluttering movement backward, as if she +would evade him. And then with a sharp sob she conquered her reluctance +again. She gave herself into his arms. + +He held her closely, passionately. He kissed her face, her neck, her +bosom, as if he would devour the sweetness of her in a few mad moments +of utter abandonment. + +But in a little he checked himself. "You are so late, sweetheart. The +tide won't wait for us. There will be time for this--afterwards." + +She lay burning and quivering against his heart. "There is tomorrow," +she whispered, clinging to him. + +He kissed her again. "Yes, there is tomorrow. But who can tell what may +happen then? There will never be such a night as this again, sweet. See +the light against that rock! It is a marvel of black and white, and I +swear that the pool is green. There is magic abroad tonight. Let me +catch it! Let me catch it! Afterwards!--when the tide comes up--we will +drink our fill of love." + +He spoke as if urged by strong excitement, and having spoken his arms +relaxed. But she clung to him still. + +"Oh, darling, I am frightened--I am frightened! I couldn't come sooner. +I had a feeling--of being watched. I nearly--very nearly--didn't come at +all. And now I am here--I feel--I feel--afraid." + +He bent his face to hers again. His hand rested lightly, reassuringly +upon her head. "No, no! There is nothing to frighten you, my +passion-flower. If you had only come to me sooner it would have made it +easier for you. But now there is no time." The soothing note in his +voice sounded oddly strained, as though an undernote of fever throbbed +below it. "You're not going to fail me," he urged softly. "Think how +much it means to you--to me! And there is only half an hour left, dear. +Give me that half-hour to catch the magic! Then--when the tide comes +up"--his voice sank, he whispered deeply into her ear--"I will teach you +the greatest magic this old world knows." + +She thrilled at his words, thrilled through her trembling. She lifted +her face to the moonlight. "I love you!" she said. "Oh, I love you!" + +"And you will do this one thing for me?" he urged. + +She threw her arms wide. "I would die for you," she told him +passionately. + +A moment she stood so, then with a swift movement that had in it +something of fierce surrender she sprang away from him on to the flat +rock above the pool where but two nights before the gates of love's +wonderland had first opened to her. + +Here for a second she stood, motionless it seemed. And then strangely, +amazingly, she moved again. The brown garment slipped from her, and like +a streak of light, she was gone, and the still pool received her with a +rippling splash as of fairy laughter. + +The man on the brink drew a short, hard breath, and put his hand to his +eyes as if dazed. And from beyond the Spear Point there sounded the deep +tolling of the bell-buoy as it rocked on the rising tide. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE DEATH CURRENT + + +The pool was still again, still as a sheet of glass, reflecting the +midnight glory of the moon. It was climbing high in the sky, and the +cloud-wreaths were mounting towards it as incense smoke from an altar. +The thick, black curtain that hung in the west was growing like a +monstrous shadow, threatening to overspread the whole earth. + +Down on the silver beach, crouched on one of the rocks that bordered the +shining pool, Knight worked with fevered intensity to catch the magic of +the hour. The light was wonderful. The pool shone strangely, deeply +green; the rocks about it might have been delicately carved in ivory. +And across the pool, clear-cut against the utter darkness of the Spear +Point Rock, stood Aphrodite the Beautiful, clad in some green +translucent draperies, her black hair loose about her, her white arms +outstretched to the moonlight, her face--exquisite as a flower--upturned +to meet the glory. She was like a dream too wonderful to be true, save +for the passion that lived in her eyes. That was vivid, that was +poignant--the fire of sacrifice burning inwardly. + +The man worked on as one driven by a ruthless force. His teeth were +clenched upon his lower lip. His hands were shaking, and yet he knew +that what he did was too superb for criticism. It was the work of +genius--the driving force within that would not let him pause to listen +to the wild urgings of his heart. That might come after. But this--this +power that compelled was supreme. While it gripped him he was not his +own master. He was, as he himself had said, a slave. + +And while he worked at its behest, watching the wonderful thing that +inspiration was weaving by his hand, scarcely conscious of effort, +though the perspiration was streaming down his face, he whispered over +and over between his clenched teeth the title of the picture that was to +astonish the world--"The Goddess Veiled in Foam." + +There was no foam as yet on the pool, but he remembered how two nights +before he had seen the breaking of the first wave that had turned it +into a seething cauldron of surf. That was what he wanted now--just the +first great wave washing over her exquisite feet and flinging its +garment of spray like a flimsy veil over her perfect form. He wanted +that as he wanted nothing else on earth. And then--then--he would catch +his dream, he would chain for ever the fairy vision that might never be +granted again. + +There came a boom like a distant gunshot on the other side of the Spear +Point Rock, and again, but very far away, there sounded the tolling of +the bell beyond the reef. The man's heart gave a great leap. It was +coming! + +In the same moment the girl's voice came to him across the pool, +mingling with the rushing of great waters. + +"The tide is coming up fast. It won't be safe much longer." + +"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried back almost frantically. "It is +absolutely safe. I will swim across and help you if you are afraid. But +wait--wait just a few moments more!" + +She did not urge him. Her surrender had been too complete. Perhaps his +promise reassured her, or perhaps she did not fully realise the danger. +She waited motionless and the man worked on. + +Again there came that sound that was like the report of a distant gun, +and the roaring of the sea swelled to tumult. + +"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried again. + +But she could not have heard him in the overwhelming rush of the sea. + +There came a sudden dimness. A cloud had drifted over the moon, and +Knight looked up and cursed it with furious impatience. It passed, and +he saw her again--his vision, the goddess of his dream, still as the +rock behind her, yet splendidly alive. He bent himself again to his +work. Would that wave never come to veil her in sparkling raiment of +foam? + +Ah! At last! The peace of the pool was shattered. A shining wave, +curved, green, transparent, gleamed round the corner, ran, swift as a +flame, along the rock, and broke with a thunderous roar in a torrent of +snow-white surf. In a moment the pool was a seething tumult of water, +and in that moment Knight saw his goddess as the artist in him had +yearned to see her, her beauty half-veiled and half-revealed in a +shimmering robe of foam. + +The vision vanished. Another cloud had drifted over the moon. Only the +swirling water remained. + +Again he lifted his head to curse the fate that baffled him, and as he +did so a hand came suddenly from the darkness behind and gripped him by +the shoulder. A voice that was like the angry bellow of a bull roared in +his ear. + +What it said he did not hear; so amazed was he by the utter +unexpectedness of the attack. Before he had time to realise what was +happening, he was shaken with furious force and flung aside. He +fell--and his precious work fell with him--on the very edge of that +swirling pool.... + +Seconds later, when the moon gleamed out again, he was still frantically +groping for it on the stones. The roar of the sea was terrible and +imminent, like the roar of a destroying monster racing upon its prey, +and from the caves there came a hollow groaning as of chained spirits +under the earth. + +The light flashed away again just as he spied his treasure on the brink +of the dashing water. He sprang to save it, intent upon naught else; +but in that instant there came a roar such as he had not heard before--a +sound so compelling, so nerve-shattering, that even he was arrested, +entrapped as it were by a horror of crashing elements that made him +wonder if all the fiends in hell were fighting for his soul. And, as he +paused, the swirl of a great wave caught him in the darkness like the +blow of a concrete thing, nearly flinging him backwards. He staggered, +for the first time stricken with fear, and then in the howling uproar of +that dreadful place there came to him like a searchlight wheeling +inwards the thought of the girl. The water receded from him, leaving him +drenched, almost dazed, but a voice within--an urgent, insistent +voice--clamoured that his safety was at stake, his life a matter of mere +moments if he lingered. This was the Death Current of which Rufus had +warned him only that afternoon. Had not the bell-buoy been tolling to +deaf ears for some time past? The Death Current that came like a tidal +wave! And nothing could live in it. The girl--surely the girl had been +washed off her ledge and overwhelmed in the flood before it had reached +him. Possibly Rufus would manage to save her, for that it was Rufus who +had so savagely sprung upon him he had no doubt; but he himself was +powerless. If he saved his own life it would be by a miracle. Had not +the fellow warned him that retreat by way of the cliff-path would be cut +off in thirty seconds when the tide raced up like that? And if he failed +to reach that, only the quicksand was left--the quicksand that dragged +a man down quicker than hell! + +He set his teeth and turned his face to the cliff. A light was shining +half-way up it--that must come from the window of Rufus's cottage. He +took it as a beacon, and began to stumble through the howling darkness +towards it. He knew the cliff-path. He had come down it only that night +to make sure that there was no one spying upon them. The cottage had +been shut and dark then, the little garden empty. He had concluded that +Rufus had gone early to rest after a long day with the nets, and had +passed on securely to wait for Columbine on the edge of their magic +pool. But what he did not know was exactly where the cliff-path ran out +on to the beach. The opening was close to the Caves and sheltered by +rocks. Could he find it in this infernal darkness? Could he ever make +his way to it in time? With the waves crashing behind him he struggled +desperately towards the blackness of the cliffs. + +The rocks under his feet were wet and slippery. He fought his way over +them, feeling as if a hundred demons were in league to hold him back. +The swirl of the incoming tide sounded in his ears like a monstrous +chant of death. Again and again he slipped and fell, and yet again he +dragged himself up, grimly determined to fight the desperate battle to +the last gasp. The thought of Columbine had gone wholly from him, even +as the thought of his lost treasure. Only the elemental desire of life +gripped him, vital and urgent, forcing him to the greatest physical +effort he had ever made. He went like a goaded animal, savage, stubborn, +fiercely surmounting every obstacle, driven not so much by fear as by a +furious determination to frustrate the fate that menaced him. + +It must have been nearly a minute later that the moon shone forth again, +throwing gleaming streaks of brightness upon the mighty breakers that +had swallowed the magic pool. They were riding in past the Spear Point +in majestic and unending procession, and the rocks that surrounded the +pool were already deeply covered. The surf of one great wave was rushing +over the beach to the Caves, and the spray of it blew over Knight, +drenching him from head to foot. Desperately, by that passing gleam of +moonlight, he searched for the opening of the path, the foam of the +oncoming procession already swirling about his feet. He spied it +suddenly at length, and in the same instant something within him--could +it have been his heart?--dropped abruptly like a loosened weight to the +very depths of his being. The way of escape in that direction was +already cut off. In the darkness he had not taken a straight course, and +it was too late. + +Wildly he turned--like a hunted animal seeking refuge. With great leaps +and gigantic effort, he made for the open beach. He reached it, reached +the loose dry sand so soon to be covered by the roaring tumult of great +waters. His eyes glared out over the level stretch that intervened +between the Spear Point Rock and the harbour quay. The tide would not be +over it yet. + +He flung his last defiance to the fate that relentlessly hunted him as +he took the only alternative, and set himself to traverse the way of the +quicksand--that dragged a man down quicker than hell. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE BOON + + +Someone was mounting the steep cliff-path that led to Rufus's cottage--a +man, square-built and powerful, who carried a burden. The moon shone +dimly upon his progress through a veil of drifting cloud. He was +streaming with water at every step, but he moved as if his drenched +clothing were in no way a hindrance--steadily, strongly, with stubborn +fixity of purpose. The burden he carried hung limply in his arms, and +over his shoulder there drifted a heavy mass of wet, black hair. + +He came at length on his firm, bare feet to the little gate that led to +the lonely cottage, and, without pausing, passed through. The cottage +door was ajar. He pushed it back and entered, closing it, even as he did +so, with a backward fling of the heel. Then, in the tiny living-room, by +the light of the lamp that shone in the window, he laid his burden down. + +White and cold, she lay with closed eyes upon the little sofa, +motionless and beautiful as a statue recumbent upon a tomb, her drenched +draperies clinging about her. He stood for a second looking upon her; +then, still with the absolute steadiness of set purpose, he turned and +went into the inner room. + +He came back with a blanket, and stooping, he lifted the limp form and, +with a certain deftness that seemed a part of his immovable resolution, +he wrapped it in the rough grey folds. + +It was while he was doing this that a sudden sigh came from between the +parted lips, and the closed eyes flashed open. + +They gazed upon him in bewilderment, but he continued his ministrations +with grim persistence and an almost bovine expression of countenance. +Only when two hands came quivering out of the enveloping blanket and +pushed him desperately away did he desist. He straightened himself then +and turned away. + +"You'll be--all right," he said in his deep voice. + +Then Columbine started up on her elbow, clutching wildly at the blanket, +drawing it close about her. The cold stillness of her was gone, as +though a sudden flame had scorched her. Her face, her neck, her whole +body were burning, burning. + +"What--what happened?" she gasped. "You--why have you brought me--here?" + +He did not look at her. + +"It was the nearest place," he said. "The Death Current caught you, and +you were stunned. I got you out." + +"You--got me--out!" she repeated, saying the words slowly as if she +were teaching herself a lesson. + +He nodded his great head. + +"Yes. I came up in time. I saw what would happen. There's often a tidal +wave about now. I thought you knew that--thought Adam would have told +you. He"--his voice suddenly went a tone deeper--"knew it. I told him +this morning." + +"Ah!" She uttered the word upon a swift intake of breath; her startled +eyes suddenly dilated. "Where is he?" she said. + +The man's huge frame stiffened at the question; she saw his hands +clench. But he kept his head turned from her; she could not see his +face. There followed a pause that seemed to her fevered imagination to +have something deadly in it. Then: "I hope he's gone where he belongs," +said Rufus, with terrible deliberation. + +Her cry of agony cut across his last word like the severing of a taut +string. She leapt to her feet, in that moment of anguish supremely +forgetful of self. + +"Rufus!" she cried, and wildly gripped his arm, "You've never--left +him--to be--killed!" + +She felt his muscles harden in grim resistance to her grasp. She saw +that his averted face was set like a stone mask. + +"It's none of my business," he said, speaking through rigid lips. + +She turned from him with a gasp of horror and sprang for the door. But +in an instant he wheeled, thrust out a great arm, and caught her. His +fingers closed upon her bare shoulder. + +"Columbine!" he said. + +She resisted him frantically, bending now this way, now that. But he +held her in spite of it, held her, and slowly brought her nearer to him. + +"Stand still!" he said. + +His voice came upon her like a blow. She flinched at the sound of +it--flinched and obeyed. + +"Let me go!" she gasped out. "He--may be drowning--at this moment!" + +"Let him drown!" said Rufus. + +She lifted her tortured face in frenzied protest, but it died upon her +lips. For in that moment she met his eyes, and the blazing blue of them +made her feel as though spirit had been poured upon her flame, consuming +her. Words failed her utterly. She stood palpitating in his hold, not +breathing--a wild thing trapped. + +Slowly he bent towards her. "Let him drown!" he said again. "Do you +think I'm going to let you throw your life away for a cur like that?" + +There was uncloaked ferocity in the question. His hold was merciless. + +"I saved you," he said. "It wasn't especially easy. But I did it. For +the matter of that, I'd have gone through hell for you. And do you think +I'm going to let you go again--now?" + +She did not answer him. Only her lips moved stiffly, as though they +formed words she could not utter. She could not take her eyes from his, +though his looks seared her through and through. + +He went on, deeply, with gathering force. "He'd have let you be swept +away. He didn't care. All he wanted was to get you for his picture. That +was all he made love to you for. He'd have sacrificed you to the devil +for that. You don't believe me, maybe, but I know--I know!" + +There was savage certainty in the reiterated words, and the girl +recoiled from them, her face like death. But he held her still, +implacably, relentlessly. + +"That's all he wants of you," he said. "To use you for his purpose, and +then--to throw you aside. Why"--and he suddenly showed his clenched +teeth--"he dared--damn him!--he dared to tell me so!" + +"He--told you!" Her lips spoke the words at last, but they seemed to +come from a long way off. + +"Yes." With suppressed violence he answered her. "He didn't put it that +way--being a gentleman! But he took care to make me understand that he +only wanted you for the sake of his accursed picture. That's the only +thing that counts with him, and he's the sort not to care what he does +to get it. He wouldn't have got you--like this--if he hadn't made you +love him first. I know that too--as well as if you'd told me." + +The passion in his voice was rising, and it was as if the heat of it +rekindled her animation. With a jerky movement she flung up both her +hands, grasping tensely the arms that held her so rigidly. + +"Yes, I love him!" she said, and her voice rang wildly. "I love him! I +don't care what he is! Rufus--Rufus--oh, for the love of Heaven, don't +let him drown!" The words rushed out desperately; it was as if her whole +nature, all her pride, all her courage, were flung into that frantic +appeal. She clung to the man with straining entreaty. "Oh, go down and +save him!" she begged. "I'll do anything for you in return--anything you +like to ask! Only do this one thing for me! He may have escaped the +tide. If so, he'll try the quicksand, and he don't know the lie of it! +Rufus, you wouldn't want--your worst enemy--to die like that!" + +She broke off, wildly sobbing, yet still clinging to him in agonised +entreaty. The man's face, with its crude ferocity, the untamed glitter +of its fiery eyes, was still bent to hers, but she no longer shrank from +it. The power that moved her was too immense to be swayed by lesser +things. His attitude no longer affected her, one way or another. It had +ceased to count, so that she only wrenched from him this one great boon. + +And Rufus must have realised the fact, for he stood up sharply and +backed against the door, releasing her. + +"You don't know what you're saying," he said gruffly. + +"I do--I do!" With anguished reiteration she answered him. "I'm not the +sort that offers and then doesn't pay. Oh, don't waste time talking! +Every moment may be his last. Go down--go down to the shore! You're so +strong. Save him--save him!" + +She beat her clasped hands against his broad chest, till abruptly he put +up his own again and held them still. + +"Columbine!" For the second time he uttered her name, and for the second +time the command in his voice caught and compelled her. "Just you listen +a minute!" he said, and as he spoke his look swept her with a mastery +that dominated even her agony. "If I go and save the cur, you've done +with him for ever--you swear that?" + +"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Only go--only go!" + +But he remained square and resolute against the door. "And you'll stay +here--you swear to stay here till I come back?" + +"Yes!" she cried again. + +He bent to her once more; his gaze possessed her. "And--afterwards?" he +said, his voice deep and very low. + +Her eyes had been raised to his; they closed suddenly and sharply, as if +to shut him out. "I will give you--all I have," she said, and shivered, +violently, uncontrollably. + +The next instant his hands were gone from hers, and she was free. + +Trembling, she sank upon the sofa, hiding her face; and even as she did +so the banging of the cottage door told her he was gone. + +Thereafter she sat crouched for a long, long time in the paralysis of a +great fear. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE VISION + + +Down on the howling shore the great waves were hurling themselves in +vast cataracts of snow-white surf that shone, dimly radiant, in the +fitful moonlight. The sky was covered with broken clouds, and a rising +storm-wind blew in gusts along the cliffs. The peace of the night was +utterly shattered, the shining glory had departed. A wild and desolate +grandeur had succeeded it. + +"Shouldn't wonder if there was some trouble tonight," said Adam, awaking +to the tumult. + +"Lor' bless you!" said Mrs. Peck sensibly. "Wait till it comes." + +The hint of impatience that marked her speech was not without reason, +for a gale was to Adam as the sound of a gun to a sporting-dog. It +invariably aroused him, even from the deepest slumber, to a state of +alert expectation that to a woman as hard-working as Mrs. Peck was most +exceptionally trying. When Adam scented disaster at sea there was no +peace for either. As she was wont to remark, being the wife of the +lifeboat coxswain wasn't all jam, not by any manner of means it wasn't. +She knew now, by the way Adam turned, and checked his breathing to +listen, that the final disturbance was not far off. + +She herself feigned sleep, possibly in the hope of provoking him to +consideration for her weariness; but she knew the effort to be quite +futile even as she made it. Adam the coxswain was considerate only for +those who might be in peril. At the next heavy gust that rattled the +windows he flung the bedclothes back without the smallest thought for +his companion's comfort, and tumbled on to his feet. + +"Just going to have a look round," he said. "I'll lay the fire in the +kitchen, and you be ready to light it in a jiffy if wanted!" + +That was so like Adam. He could think of nothing but possible victims of +the storm. Mrs. Peck sniffed, and gathered the bedclothes back about her +in expressive silence. It was quite useless to argue with Adam when he +got the jumps. Experience had taught her that long since. She could only +resume her broken rest and hope that it might not be again disturbed. + +Adam pulled on his clothes with his usual brisk deftness of movement and +went downstairs. The rising storm was calling him, and he could not be +deaf to the call. He had belonged to the lifeboat ever since he had come +to man's estate, and never a storm arose but he held himself ready for +service. + +His first, almost instinctive, action was to take the key of the +lifeboat house from its nail in the kitchen. Then, whistling cheerily +below his breath, he set about laying the fire. The kettles were +already filled. Mrs. Peck always saw to that before retiring. There was +milk in the pantry, brandy in the cupboard. According to invariable +custom, all was in readiness for any possible emergency, and having +satisfied himself that this was the case, he thrust his bare feet into +boots and went to the door. + +It had begun to rain. Great drops pattered down upon him as he emerged, +and he turned back to clap his sou'wester upon his head. Then, without +further preparation, he sallied forth. + +As he went down the road that ran to the quay a terrible streak of +lightning reft the dark sky, and the wild crash of thunder that followed +drowned even the roaring babel of the sea. + +It did not check his progress; he was never one to be easily daunted. It +was contrary to his very nature to seek shelter in a storm. He went +swinging on to the very edge of the quay, and there stood facing the +violence of the waves, the fierce turmoil of striving elements. + +The tide was extraordinarily high--such a tide as he believed he had +never seen before in summer. He stood in the pouring rain and looked +first one way, then the other, with a quick birdlike scrutiny, but as +far as his eyes could pierce he saw only an empty desolation of waters. +There seemed none in need of his help that night. + +"I wonder if Rufus is awake," he speculated to the angry tumult. + +Nearly three miles out from the Spear Point there was a lighthouse with +a revolving light. That light shone towards him now, casting a weird +radiance across the tossing water, and as if in accompaniment to the +warning gleam he heard the deep toll of the bell-buoy that rocked upon +the swell. + +Adam turned about. "I'll go and knock up Rufus," he decided. "It'd be a +shame to miss a night like this." + +Again the lightning rent the sky, and the whole great outline of the +Spear Point was revealed in one awful second of intolerable radiance. +Adam's keen eye chanced to be upon it, and he saw it in such detail as +the strongest sunlight could never have achieved. The brightness +dazzled, almost shocked him, but there was something besides the +brightness that sent an odd sensation through him--a curious, sick +feeling as if he had suddenly received a blow between the shoulders. For +in that fraction of time he had seen something which reason, clamouring +against the evidence of his senses, declared to be the impossible. He +had seen a human figure--the figure of his son--clinging to the naked +face of the rock, hanging between sea and sky where scarcely a bird +could have found foothold, while something--a grey, indistinguishable +burden--hung limp across his shoulder, weighing him down. + +The thunder was still rolling around him when with a great shake Adam +pulled himself together. + +"I'm dreaming!" he told himself angrily. "A man couldn't ever climb the +Spear Point, let alone live on a ledge that wouldn't harbour a sea-gull +if he did. I'll go round to Rufus. I'll go round and knock him up." + +With the words he tramped off through the rushing rain, and leaving the +quay, struck upwards along the cliff in the direction of the narrow path +that ran down to Rufus's dwelling above the Spear Point Caves. + +Despite the spareness of his frame, he climbed the ascent with a +rapidity that made him gasp. The wind also was against him, blowing in +strong gusts, and the raging of the sea below was as the roaring of a +thousand torrents. The great waves boomed against the cliff far beyond +the summer watermark. They had long since covered the quicksand, and he +thought he felt the ground shake with the shock of them. + +He reached at length the gap in the cliff that led down to the cottage, +and here he paused; for the descent was sharp, and the light that still +filtered through the dense storm-clouds was very dim. But in a few +seconds another great flash lit up the whole wild scene. He saw again +the Spear Point Rock standing out, scimitar-like, in the sea. The water +was dashing all around it. It stood up, grim and unapproachable, the +great waves flinging their mighty clouds of spray over its stark summit. +But--possibly because he viewed it from above instead of from below--he +saw naught beside that grand and futile struggle of the elements. + +Reassured, he started in the rain and darkness down the twisting path +that led to his old home. He knew every foot of the way, but even so, he +stumbled once or twice in the gloom. + +The roaring of the sea sounded terribly near when finally he reached the +little garden-gate and caught the ray of the lamp in the window. + +Evidently it had awakened Rufus also. Almost unconsciously he quickened +his pace as he went up the path. + +He reached the door and fumbled for the latch; but ere he found it, it +was flung open, and a strange and tragic figure met him on the +threshold. + +"Ah!" cried a woman's voice. "It is you! Where--where is Rufus?" + +Adam's keen and birdlike eyes nearly leapt from his head. +"Why--Columbine?" he said. + +She was dressed in Rufus's suit of navy serge. It hung about her in +clumsy folds, and over her shoulders and about her snow-white throat her +glorious hair streamed like a black veil, still wet and shining in the +lamplight. + +She flung out her hands to him in piteous appeal. "Oh, Adam!" she said. +"Have you seen them? Have you seen Rufus? He went--he went an hour +ago--to save Mr. Knight from the quicksand!" + +Adam's quick brain leapt to instant activity. The girl's presence +baffled him, but it was no time for explanation. In some way she had +discovered Knight in danger, and had rushed to Rufus for help. +Then--then--that vision of his from the quay--that flash of +revelation--had been no dream, after all! He had seen Rufus indeed--and +probably for the last time in his life. + +He stood, struck dumb for the moment, recalling every detail of the +clinging figure that had hung above the leaping waves. Then the tragedy +in Columbine's face made him pull himself together once more. He took +her trembling hands. + +"It's no good, my girl," he said. "I seen him. Yes, I seen him. I didn't +believe my eyes, but I know now it was true. He was hanging on to a bit +of rock half-way up the Spear Point, and t'other chap was lying across +his shoulder. They've both been washed away by this, for the water's +still coming up. There's not the ghost of a chance for 'em. I say it +'cos I know--not the ghost of a chance!" + +A wild cry broke from the girl's lips. She wrenched her hands free and +beat them upon her breast. Then suddenly a burst of wild tears came to +her. She leaned against the cottage wall and sobbed in an agony that +possessed her, soul and body. + +Adam stood and looked at her. There was something terrible about the +abandonment of her grief. It made him feel that his own was almost +insignificant beside it. He had never seen any woman weep like that +before. The anguish of it went through his heart. + +He moved at length, laid a very gentle hand upon her shaking shoulder. + +"My girl--my girl!" he said. "Don't take on so! I never thought as you +cared a ha'p'orth for poor Rufus, though o' course I always knew as he +loved you like mad." + +She bowed herself lower under his hand. "And now I've killed him!" she +gasped forth inarticulately. "I've killed him!" + +"No, no, no!" protested Adam. "That ain't reasonable. Come, now--you're +distraught! You don't know what you're saying. My Rufus is a fine chap. +He'd take most any risk to save a life. He's got a big heart in him, and +he don't stop to count the cost." + +She uncovered her face sharply and looked at him, so that he clearly saw +the ravages that her distress had wrought. "That wasn't what made him +go," she said. "He wouldn't have gone but for me. It was I as made him +go. But I thought he'd be in time. I hoped he'd be in time." Her voice +rose wildly; she wrung her hands. "Oh, can't you do anything? Can't you +take out the lifeboat? There must be some way--surely there must be some +way--of saving them!" + +But Adam shook his head. "He's past our help," he said. "There's no boat +could live among them rocks in such a tide as this. We couldn't get +anywhere near. No--no, there's nothing we can do. The lad's gone--my +Rufus--finest chap along the shore, if he was my son. Never thought as +he'd go before me--never thought--never thought!" + +The loud roll of the waves filled the bitter silence that followed, but +the battering of the rain upon the cottage roof was decreasing. The +storm was no longer overhead. + +Adam leaned on the back of a chair with his head in his hands. All the +wiry activity seemed to have gone out of him. He looked old and broken. + +The girl stood motionless behind him. A strange impassivity had +succeeded her last fruitless appeal, as though through excess of +suffering her faculties were numbed, animation itself were suspended. +She leaned against the wall, staring with wide, tragic eyes at the flame +of the lamp that stood in the window. Her arms hung stiffly at her +sides, and the hands were clenched. She seemed to be gazing upon +unutterable things. + +There was nothing to be done--nothing to be done! Till the waves had +spent their fury, till that raging sea went down, they were as helpless +as babes to stay the hand of Fate. No boat could live in that fearful +turmoil of water. Adam had said it, and she knew that what he said was +true, knew by the utter dejection of his attitude, the completeness of +his despair. She had never seen Adam in despair before; probably no one +had ever seen him as he was now. He was a man to strain every nerve +while the faintest ray of hope remained. He had faced many a furious +storm, saved many a life that had been given up for lost by other men. +But now he could do nothing, and he crouched there--an old and broken +man--for the first time realising his helplessness. + +A long time passed. The only sound within the cottage was the ticking of +a grandfather-clock in a corner, while without the great sound of the +breaking seas filled all the world. The storm above had passed. Now the +thunder-blast no longer shook the cottage. A faint greyness had begun to +show beyond the lamp in the window. The dawn was drawing near. + +As one awaking from a trance of terrible visions, the girl drew a deep +breath and spoke: + +"Adam!" + +He did not stir. He had not stirred for the greater part of an hour. + +She made a curiously jerky movement, as if she wrenched herself free +from some constricting hold. She went to the bowed, despairing figure. + +"Adam, the day is breaking. The tide must be on the turn. Shan't we go?" + +He stood up with the gesture of an old man. "What's the good?" he said. +"Do you think I want to see my boy's dead body left behind by the sea?" + +She shivered at the question. "But we can't stay here," she urged. "Aunt +Liza, you know--she'll be wondering." + +"Ah!" He passed his hand over his eyes. He was swaying a little as he +stood. She supported his elbow, for he seemed to have lost control of +his limbs. He stared at her in a dazed way. "You'd better go and tell +your Aunt Liza," he said. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Maybe my +boy'll come and talk to me if I'm alone. We're partners, you know, and +we lived here a good many years alone together. He wouldn't leave +me--not for the long voyage--without a word. Yes, you go, my dear, you +go! I'll stay here and wait for him." + +She saw that no persuasion of hers would move him, and it seemed useless +to remain. An intolerable restlessness urged her, moreover, to be gone. +The awful inertia of the past two hours had turned into a fevered desire +for action. It was the swing of the pendulum, and she felt that if she +did not respond to it she would go mad. + +Her knees were still trembling under her, but she controlled them and +turned to the door. As she lifted the latch she looked back and saw Adam +drop heavily into the chair upon which he had leaned for so long. His +attitude was one of almost stubborn patience, but it was evident that +her presence had ceased to count with him. He was waiting--she saw it +clearly in every line of him--waiting to bid his boy Godspeed ere he +fared forth finally on the long voyage from which there is no return. + +A sharp sob rose in her throat. She caught her hand to it, forcing it +back. Then, barefooted, she stepped out into the grey dimness that +veiled all things, and left the door of Rufus's cottage open behind +her. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE LONG VOYAGE + + +She never remembered afterwards how she accomplished the homeward +journey. The rough stones cut her feet again and again, but she never +felt the pain. She went as one who has an urgent mission to perform, +though what that mission was she scarcely knew. + +The night--that night of dreadful tragedy--had changed her. Columbine, +the passionate, the impulsive had turned into a being that was foreign +to herself. All the happy girlhood had been stamped out of her as by the +cruel pressure of a hot iron. She had ceased to feel the agony of it; +somehow she did not think that she ever could feel pain again. The nerve +tissues had been destroyed and all vitality was gone. The creature that +passed like a swift shadow through the twilight of the dawn was an old +and withered woman who had lived beyond her allotted time. + +She reached the old Ship Inn, meeting no one. She entered by the door of +the conservatory through which she had flitted æons and æons before to +meet her lover. She went to her room and changed into her own clothes. +The suit that had belonged to Rufus so long ago she laid away with an +odd reverence, still scarcely knowing what she did, driven as it were by +a mechanism that worked without any volition of hers. + +Then she went to the glass and began to coil up her hair. It was dank +and heavy yet with the seawater, but she wound it about her head without +noticing. The light was growing, and she peered at herself with a +detached sort of curiosity, till something in her own eyes frightened +her, and she turned away. + +She went to the window and opened it wide. The sound of the sea yet +filled the world, but it was not so insistent as it had been. The waves, +though mountainous still, were gradually receding from the shore. It was +as though the dawn had come just in time to prevent the powers of +darkness from triumphing. + +She heard someone moving in the house and turned back into the room. +Aunt Liza must be told. + +Through the spectral dawnlight she went down the stairs and took her way +to the kitchen. The door stood half open; she heard the cheery crackling +of the newly lighted fire before she entered. And hearing it, she was +aware of a great coldness that clung like a chain, fettering her every +movement. + +Someone moved as she pushed open the door. An enormous shadow leaped +upon the wall like a fantastic monster of the deep. She recoiled for a +second, then, as if drawn against her will, she entered. + +By the ruddy glow of the fire she saw a man's broad-chested figure, she +saw the gleam of tawny hair above a thick bull-neck. He was bending +slightly over the fire at her entrance, but, hearing her, he turned. And +in that moment every numbed nerve in Columbine's body was pierced into +quivering life. + +She stood as one transfixed, and he stood motionless also in the +flickering light of the flames, gazing at her with eyes of awful blue +that were as burning spirit. But he spoke not a word--not a word. How +could a dead man speak? + +And as they stood thus, facing each other, the floor between them began +suddenly to heave, became a mass of seething billows that rocked her, +caught her, engulfed her. She went down into them, and as the tossing +darkness received her, her last thought was that Rufus had come back +indeed--not to say farewell, but to take her with him on the long +voyage from which there is no return.... + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DEEP WATERS + + +Wild white roses that grew in the sandy stubble above the shore, little +orange-scented roses that straggled through the grass--they called to +something that ran in Columbine's blood, they spoke to her of the South. +She was sure that she would find those roses all about her feet when she +came to the end of the long voyage. She would see their golden hearts +wide open to the sun. For their fragrance haunted her day by day as she +floated down the long glassy stretches and rocked on the waveless +swells. + +Sometimes she had a curious fancy that she was lying dead, and they had +strewn the sweet flowers all about her. She hoped that they might not be +buried with her; they were too beautiful for that. + +At other times she thought of them as a bridal wreath, purer than the +purest orange-blossom that ever decked a bride. Once, too--this was when +she was nearing the end of the voyage--there came to her a magic whiff +of wet bog-myrtle that made her fancy that she must be a bride indeed. + +At last, just when it seemed to her that her boat was gently grounding +upon the sand where the little white roses grew, she opened her eyes +widely, wonderingly, and realised that the voyage was over. + +She was lying in her own little room at The Ship, and Mrs. Peck, with +motherly kindness writ large on her comely, plump face, was bending over +her with a cup of steaming broth in her hand. + +Columbine gazed at her with a bewildered sense of having slept too long. + +Mrs. Peck nodded at her cheerily. "There, my dear! You're better, I can +see. A fine time you've given us. I thought as I should never see your +bright eyes again." + +Columbine put forth a trembling hand with a curious feeling that it did +not belong to her at all. "Have I been ill?" she said. + +Mrs. Peck nodded again cheerily. "Why, it's more than a week you've been +lying here, and how I have worrited about you! Prostration following +severe shock was what the doctor called it, but it looked to me more +like a touch of brain fever. But there, you're better! Drink this like a +good girl, and you'll feel better still!" + +Meekly, with the docility of great weakness, Columbine swallowed the +proffered nourishment. She wanted to recall all that had happened, but +her brain felt too clogged to serve her. She could only lie and gaze and +gaze at a little vase of wild white roses that faced her upon the +mantelpiece. Somehow those roses seemed to her to play an oddly +important part in her awakening. + +"Where did they come from?" she suddenly asked. + +Mrs. Peck glanced up indifferently. "They're just those little common +things that grow with the pinks on the cliff," she said. + +But that did not satisfy Columbine. "Who brought them in?" she said. +"Who gathered them?" + +Mrs. Peck hesitated momentarily, almost as if she did not want to +answer. Then, half defiantly, "Why, Rufus, to be sure," she said. + +"Rufus!" A great hot wave of crimson suddenly suffused Columbine's +face--a pitiless, burning blush that spread tingling over her whole +body. + +She lay very still while it lasted, and Mrs. Peck set down the cup and, +rising energetically, began to tidy the room. + +At length, faintly, the girl spoke again: "Aunt Liza!" + +Mrs. Peck turned. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look half +stern and yet half compassionate. "There, my dear, that'll do," she +said. "I think you've talked enough. The doctor said as I was to keep +you very quiet, especially when you began to get back your senses. Shut +your eyes, do, and go to sleep!" + +But Columbine's eyes remained open. "I'm not sleepy," she said. "And I +must speak to you. I want to know--I must know"--she faltered painfully, +but forced herself to continue--"Rufus--did he--did he really come +back--that night?" + +Mrs. Peck's compassion perceptibly diminished and her severity +increased. "Oh, if you want the whole story," she said, "you'd better +have it and have done; that is, so far as I know it myself. There are +certain ins and outs that I don't know even yet, for Rufus can be very +secretive if he likes. Well then, yes, he did come back, and he brought +Mr. Knight with him. They were washed up by a great wave that dropped +'em high and dry near the quay. Mr. Knight was half drowned, and Rufus +left him at Sam Jefferson's cottage and came on here for brandy and hot +milk and such. He wasn't a penny the worse himself, but I suppose you +thought it was his ghost. You behaved like as if you did, anyway. That's +all I can tell you. Mr. Knight he got better in a day or two, and he's +gone, said he'd had enough of it, and I don't blame him neither. Now +that'll do for the present. By and by, when you're stronger, maybe I'll +ask you to tell me something. But the doctor says as I'm not to let you +talk at present." + +Mrs. Peck took up the empty cup with the words, and turned with decision +to the door. + +Columbine did not attempt to detain her. She had read the doubt in the +good woman's eyes, and she was thankful at that moment for the reprieve +that the doctor's fiat had secured her. + +She lay for a long, long time without moving after Mrs. Peck's +departure. Her brain felt unutterably weary, but it was clear, and she +was able to face the situation in all its grimness. Mr. Knight had +gone. Mr. Knight had had enough of it. Had he really left without a +word? Was she, then, so little to him as that? She, who had clung to +him, had offered him unconditionally and without stint all that was +hers! + +She remembered how he had said that it would not last, that love was +moonshine, love would pass. And how passionately--and withal how +fruitlessly!--had she revolted against that pronouncement of his! She +had declared that such was not love, and he--he had warned her against +loving too well, giving too freely. With cruel distinctness it all came +back to her. She felt again those hot kisses upon brow and lips and +throat. Though he had warned her against giving, he had not been slow to +take. He had revelled in the abandonment of that first free love of +hers. He had drained her of all that she held most precious that he +might drink his fill. And all for what? Again she burned from head to +foot, and, groaning, hid her face. All for the making of a picture that +should bring him world-wide fame! His love for her had been naught but +small change flung liberally enough that he might purchase therewith the +desire of his artist's soul. It had been just a means to an end. No more +than that! No more than that! + + * * * + +Time passed, but she knew naught of its passing. She was in a place of +bitterness very far removed from the ordinary things of life. She shed +no tears. The misery and shame that burned her soul were beyond all +expression or alleviation. She could have laughed over the irony of it +all more easily than she could have wept. + +That she--the proud and dainty, for whom no one had been good +enough--should have fallen thus easily to the careless attraction of a +man to whom she was nothing, nothing but a piece of prettiness to be +bought as cheaply as possible and treasured not at all. Some whim of +inspiration had moved him. He had obeyed his Muse. And he had been +ready--he had been ready--even to offer her life in sacrifice to his +idol. She did not count with him in the smallest degree. He had never +cared--he had never cared! + +She lifted her face at last. The torture was eating into her soul. It +was more than she could bear. All the tender words he had spoken, the +caresses he had lavished upon her, were as burning darts that pierced +her whichever way she turned. Her surrender had been so free, so +absolute, and in return he had left her in the dark. He had gone his +careless way without a single thought for all the fierce devotion she +had poured out to him. It had only appealed to him while the mood +lasted. And now he had had enough of it. He had gone. + +The murmur of the summer sea came to her as she lay, and she thought of +the Death Current. Why--ah, why--had it been cheated of its prey? She +shivered violently as the memory of that awful struggle in deep waters +came to her. She had been saved, how she scarcely realised, though deep +within her she knew--she knew! + +Her burning eyes fell upon the little wild white roses on the shelf. Why +had he brought them to her? Why had he chosen them? She felt as if they +held a message for her, but it was a message she did not dare to read. +And then again she quivered as the dread memory of that night swept over +her anew, and the eyes of flaming blue that had looked into hers. + +Somewhere--somewhere outside herself, it seemed to her--a voice was +speaking, very articulate and persistent, and she could not shut out the +words it uttered. She lacked the strength. + +"I always knew," it said, and it averred it over and over again, "as he +loved you like mad." + +Love! Love! But what was Love? Was any man capable of it? Was it ever +anything more than brutal passion or callous amusement? And hearts were +broken and lives were ruined to bring men sport. + +She clenched her hands, still gazing at the wild white roses with their +orange scent of purity. Why had he sent them? What had moved him to +gather them? He who had bargained with her, had wrung from her +submission to his will as it were at the sword's point! He who had +forced her to promise herself to him! What was love--or the making of +love--to such as he? + +The sweetness of the flowers seemed to pierce her. Ah, if they had only +been Knight's gift, how different--how different--had been all things. + +But they had come from Rufus. And so somehow their message passed her +by. The blackness of utter misery, utter hopelessness, closed in like a +prison-cell around her soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE SAFE HAVEN + + +In the days that followed, Mrs. Peck's honest soul was both vexed and +anxious concerning her charge. She found Columbine extraordinarily +reticent. As she herself put it, it was impossible to get any sense out +of her. + +In compliance with the doctor's order and by the exercise of extreme +self-restraint, she refrained from questioning her upon the matter of +her behaviour on the night of the great tide. That Columbine would have +enlightened her had she done so was exceedingly doubtful. But there was +no doubt that something very unusual had taken place. The little white +roses that Rufus presented as a daily offering would have told her that, +apart from any other indications. She would have questioned Rufus, but +something held her back; and Adam, when urged thereto, flatly refused to +interfere. + +Adam, rejuvenated and jubilant, went whistling about his work as of +yore. His boy had come back to him in the flesh, and he was more than +satisfied to leave things as they were. + +"Leave 'em alone, Missus!" was his counsel "Rufus he knows what he's +about. He'll steer a straight course, and he'll bring her into harbour +sooner or later. You leave it to him, and be thankful that curly-topped +chap has sheered off at last!" + +Mrs. Peck had no choice but to obey, but her anxiety regarding Columbine +did not diminish. The girl was so listless, so unlike herself, so +miserable. It was many days before she summoned the energy to dress, and +even then she displayed an almost painful reluctance to go downstairs. +She seemed to live in continual dread of some approaching ordeal. + +"I believe it's Rufus she's afraid of," was Mrs. Peck's verdict. + +But Adam scouted the idea as absurd. "What will you think of next, +woman? Why, any one can see as he's quiet and well-behaved enough for +any lass. She's missing the curly-topped chap a bit maybe. But she'll +get over that. Give her time! Give her time!" + +So Mrs. Peck gave her time and urged her not at all. She was not very +friendly with Columbine in those days. She disapproved of her, and her +manner said as much. She kept all suspicions to herself, but she could +not behave as if nothing had happened. + +"There's wild blood in her," she said darkly. "I mistrust her." + +And Columbine was fully aware of the fact, but she was too wretched to +resent it. In any case, she would never have turned to Mrs. Peck for +comfort. + +She came downstairs at last one summer evening when Mrs. Peck was busy +in the kitchen and no one was about. She had made no mention of her +intention; perhaps she wanted to be unhampered by observation. It had +been a soft, showery day, and there was the promise of more rain in the +sky. + +She moved wearily, but not without purpose; and soon she was walking +with a hood drawn over her head in the direction of the cliff-edge where +grew the sweet bog-myrtle and the little roses. + +She met no one by the way. It was nearing the hour for the evening meal, +nearing the hour when Mrs. Peck usually entered her room with the daily +offering of flowers that filled it with orange fragrance. Mrs. Peck was +not very fond of that particular task, though she never expressed her +reluctance. Well, she would not have it to accomplish tonight. + +A bare-legged, blue-jerseyed figure was moving in a bent attitude along +the slope that overlooked Rufus's cottage and the Spear Point. The girl +stood a moment gazing out over the curving reef as if she had not seen +it. The pool was smooth as a mirror, and reflecting the drifting clouds. +The tide was out. But, stay! It must be on the turn, for as she stood, +there came the deep, tolling note of the bell-buoy. It sounded like a +knell. + +As it struck solemnly over the water, the man straightened himself, and +in a moment he saw her. + +He did not move to meet her, merely stood motionless, nearly knee-deep +in the bog-myrtle, and waited for her, the white roses in one great, +clenched hand. And she, as if compelled, moved towards him, till at last +she reached and stood before him, white, mute, passive as a prisoner in +iron fetters. + +It was the man who spoke, with an odd jerkiness of tone and demeanour +that might have indicated embarrassment or even possibly some deeper +emotion. "So you've come along at last!" he said. + +She nodded. For an instant her dark eyes were raised, but they flashed +downwards again immediately, almost before they had met his own. + +Abruptly he thrust out to her the flowers he held. "I was getting these +for you." + +She took them in a trembling hand. She bent her face over them to hide +the piteous quivering of her lips. "Why--do you get them?" she whispered +almost inarticulately. + +He did not answer for a moment. Then: "Come down to my place!" he said. +"It's but a step." + +She made a swift gesture that had in it something of recoil, but the +next moment, without a word, she began to walk down the slope. + +He trod through the growth beside her, barefooted, unfaltering. His blue +eyes looked straight before him; they were unwavering and resolute as +the man himself. + +They reached the cottage. He made her enter it before him, and he +followed, but he did not close the door. Instead, he stopped and +deliberately hooked it back. + +Then, with the low call of the sea filling the humble little room, he +turned round to the girl, who stood with her head bent, awaiting his +pleasure. + +"Columbine," he said, and the name came with an unaccustomed softness +from his lips, "I've something to say to you. You've been hiding +yourself from me. I know. I know. And you needn't. Them flowers--I +gathered 'em and I sent 'em up to you every day, because I wanted you to +understand as you've nothing to fear from me. I wanted you to know as +everything is all right, and I mean well by you. I didn't know how to +tell you, and then I saw the roses growing outside the door, and I +thought as maybe they'd do it for me. They made me think of you somehow. +They were so white--and pure." + +"Ah!" The word was a wrung sound, half cry, half sob. His roses fell +suddenly and scattered upon the floor between them. Columbine's hands +covered her face. + +She stood for a second or two in tense silence, then under her breath +she spoke. "You don't believe--that--of me!" + +"I do, then," asserted Rufus, in his deep voice a note that was almost +aggressive. + +She lifted her face suddenly, even fiercely, showing him the shamed +blush that burned there. "You didn't believe it--that night!" she said. + +His eyes met hers with a certain stubbornness. "All right. I didn't," he +said. + +Her look became a challenge. "Then why--how--have you come to change +your mind?" + +He faced her steadily. "Maybe I know you better than I knew you then," +he said slowly. + +She made a sharp gesture as if pierced by an intolerable pain. "And +that--that has made a difference to your--your intentions!" + +He moved also at that. His red brows came together. "You're quite +wrong," he said, his voice very low. "That night--I know--I was beyond +myself, I was mad. But since then I've some to my senses. And--I love +you too much to harm you. That's the truth. I'd love you +anyway--whatever you were. It's just my nature to." + +His hands clenched with the words; he spoke with strong effort; but his +eyes looked deeply into hers, and they held no passion. They were still +and quiet as the summer sea below them. + +Columbine stood facing him as if at bay, but she must have felt the +influence of his restraint, for she showed no fear. "There's no such +thing as love," she said bitterly. "You dress it up and call it that. +But all the time it's something quite different. And I tell you +this"--recklessly she flung the words--"that if it hadn't been for that +tidal wave I'd be just what you took me for that night, what Aunt Liza +thinks I am this minute. I wasn't keeping back--anything, and"--she +uttered a sudden wild laugh--"if I've kept my virtue, I've lost my +innocence. I know--I know now--just what the thing you call love is +worth! And nothing will ever make me forget it!" + +She stopped, quivering from head to foot, passionate protest in every +line. + +But the blue eyes that watched her never wavered. The man's face was +rock-like in its steadfast calm. He did not speak for a full minute +after the utterance of her wild words. Then very steadily, very +forcibly, he answered her. "I'll tell you, shall I, what the thing I +call love is like?" He turned with a sweep of the arm and pointed out to +the harbour beyond the quay. "It's just like that. It's a wall to keep +off the storms. It's a safe haven where nothing hurtful can reach you. +You're not bound to give yourself to it, but once given you're safe." + +"Not bound!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "Not bound--when you made me +promise--" + +He dropped his arm to his side. "I set you free from that promise," he +said. + +Those few words, sombrely spoken, checked her wild outburst as surely as +a hand upon her mouth. She stood gazing at him for a space in utter +amazement, but gradually under his unchanging regard her look began to +fail. She turned at length with a little gasp, and sat down on the old +horsehair sofa, huddling herself together as if she desired to withdraw +herself from his observation. + +He did not stir, and a long, long silence fell between them, broken +only by the ticking of the grandfather-clock in the corner and the +everlasting murmur of the sea. + +The deep, warning note of the bell-buoy floated presently through the +summer silence, and as if in answer to a voice Rufus moved at last and +spoke. "You'd better go, lass. They'll be wondering about you. But don't +be afraid of me after this! I swear--before God--I'll give you no +cause!" + +She started a little at the sound of his voice, but she made no movement +to go. Her face was hidden in her hands. She rocked herself to and fro, +to and fro, as if in pain. + +He stood looking down at her with troubled eyes, but after a while, as +she did not speak, he moved to her side and stood there. At last, slowly +and massively, he stooped and touched her. + +"Columbine!" + +She made no direct response, only suddenly, as if his action had +released in her such a flood of emotion as was utterly beyond her +control, she broke into violent weeping, her head bowed low upon her +knees. + +"My dear!" he said. + +And then--how it came about neither of them ever knew--he was on his +knees beside her, holding her close in his great arms, and she was +sobbing out her agony upon his breast. + +It lasted for many minutes that storm of weeping. All the torment of +humiliation and grief, which till then had found no relief, was poured +out in that burning torrent of tears. She clung to him convulsively as +though she even yet struggled in the deep waters, and he held her +through it all with that sustaining strength that had borne her up +safely against the Death Current on that night of dreadful storm. + +Possibly the firm upholding of his arms brought back the memory of that +former terrible struggle, for it was of that that she first spoke when +speech became possible. + +"Oh, why didn't you leave me to die? Why--why--why?" + +He answered her in a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of the +broad chest that supported her. + +"I wanted you." + +She buried her face deeper that he might not see the cruel burning of +it. "So did he--then." + +"Not he!" The deep voice held unutterable contempt. "He wanted to make +his fortune out of you, that's all. He didn't care whether you lived or +died, the damn' cur!" + +She shrank at the fierce words, and was instantly aware of the jealous +closing of his arms about her. + +"You aren't going to break your heart for a dirty swab like that," he +said, with more of insistence than interrogation in his voice. "Look you +here, Columbine! You're too honest to care for a beast like that. +Why--though I pulled him out of the quicksand and saved him from the +sea--I'd have wrung his neck if he'd stayed another day. I would that." + +She started at the fiery declaration, and raised her head. "Oh, it was +you who sent him away, then?" + +Her look held almost desperate entreaty for a moment, but he met it with +the utmost grimness and it quickly died. + +"I didn't then," he said, with rough simplicity. "He made up his mind +without any help from me. He knew he couldn't face you again. It's not a +mite of good trying to deceive yourself now you know the truth. He's +gone, and he won't come back. Columbine, don't tell me as you want him +to!" + +His expression for the moment was formidable. She caught an ominous +gleam in the stern eyes, but almost immediately they softened. He +uttered a sigh that ended in a groan. "Now I'm being a brute to you, +when there's nothing that I wouldn't do for your sake." His voice shook +a little. "You won't believe it, but it's true--it's true." + +"Why shouldn't I believe it?" she said swiftly. She had begun to tremble +in his hold. + +He looked at her with an odd wistfulness. "Because I'm too big an +oaf--to make you understand," he said. + +"And that is why you have set me free?" she questioned. + +He bent his head, almost as if the sudden question embarrassed him. +"Yes, that," he said after a moment. "And because I care too much about +you to--marry you against your will." + +"And you call that love?" she said. + +He made a slight gesture of surprise. "It is love," he said simply. + +His arms were still around her, but she had only to move to be free. She +did not move, save that she quivered like a vibrating wire, quivered and +hid her face. + +"Rufus!" she said. + +"Yes?" His head was bent above hers, but he could only see her black +hair, so completely was her face averted from him. + +Her voice came, tensely whispering. "What if I were--willing to marry +you?" + +Something of her agitation had entered into him. A great quiver went +through him also. But--"You're not," he said quietly, with conviction. + +A trembling hand strayed upwards, feeling over his neck and throat, +groping for his face. "Rufus"--again came the tense whisper--"how do you +know that?" + +He took the wandering hand and pressed it softly against his cheek. +"Because you don't love me, Columbine," he said. + +"Ah!" A low sob escaped her; she lifted her head suddenly; the tears +were running down her face. "But--but--you could teach me, Rufus. You +could teach me what love--true love--is. I want the real thing--the real +thing. Will you give it to me? I want it--more than anything else in +the world." She drew nearer to him with the words, like a frozen +creature seeking warmth, and in a moment her arms were slipping round +his neck. "You are so true--so strong!" she sobbed. "I want to forget--I +want to forget that I ever loved--any one but you." + +His arms were close about her again. He pressed her so hard against his +heart that she felt its strong beating against her own. His eyes gazed +straight into hers, and in them she saw again that deep, deep blue as of +flaming spirit. + +"You mean it?" he said. + +Breathlessly she answered him. "Yes, I mean it." + +"Then"--he bent his great head to her, and for the fraction of a moment +she saw the meteor-like flash of his smile--"yes, I'll teach you, +Columbine," he said. + +With the words he kissed her on the lips, kissed her closely, kissed her +lingeringly, and in that kiss her torn heart found its first balm of +healing. + + * * * + +"Well, what did I say?" crowed Adam a little later. "Didn't I tell you +if you left 'em alone he'd steer her safe into harbour? Wasn't I right, +missus? Wasn't I right?" + +"I'm not gainsaying it," said Mrs. Peck, with a touch of severity. "And +I'm sure I hope as all will turn out for the best." + +"Turn out for the best? Why, o' course it will!" said Adam, with cheery +confidence. "My son Rufus he may be slow, but he's no fool. And he's a +good man, too, missus, a long sight better than that curly-topped chap. +Him and me's partners, so I ought to know." + +"To be sure you ought," said Mrs. Peck tolerantly. "And it's to be hoped +that Columbine knows it as well." + +And in the solitude of her own room Columbine bent her dainty head and +kissed with reverence the little wild white roses that spoke to her of +the purity of a good man's love. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE MAGIC CIRCLE + + +The persistent chirping of a sparrow made it almost harder to bear. Lady +Brooke finally rose abruptly from the table, her black brows drawn close +together, and swept to the window to scare the intruder away. + +"I really have not the smallest idea what your objections can be," she +observed, pausing with her back to the room. + +"A little exercise of your imagination might be of some assistance to +you," returned her husband dryly, not troubling to raise his eyes from +his paper. + +He was leaning back in a chair in an attitude of unstudied ease. It was +characteristic of Sir Roland Brooke to make himself physically +comfortable at least, whatever his mental atmosphere. He seldom raised +his voice, and never swore. Yet there was about him a certain amount of +force that made itself felt more by his silence than his speech. + +His young wife, though she shrugged her shoulders and looked +contemptuous, did not venture upon open defiance. + +"I am to decline the invitation, then?" she asked presently, without +turning. + +"Certainly!" Sir Roland again made leisurely reply as he scanned the +page before him. + +"And give as an excuse that you are too staunch a Tory to approve of +such an innovation as the waltz?" + +"You may give any excuse that you consider suitable," he returned with +unruffled composure. + +"I know of none," she answered, with a quick vehemence that trembled on +the edge of rebellion. + +Sir Roland turned very slowly in his chair and regarded the delicate +outline of his wife's figure against the window-frame. + +"Then, my dear," he said very deliberately, "let me recommend you once +more to have recourse to your ever romantic imagination!" + +She quivered, and clenched her hands, as if goaded beyond endurance. +"You do not treat me fairly," she murmured under her breath. + +Sir Roland continued to look at her with the air of a naturalist +examining an interesting specimen of his cult. He said nothing till, +driven by his scrutiny, she turned and faced him. + +"What is your complaint?" he asked then. + +She hesitated for an instant. There was doubt--even a hint of +fear--upon her beautiful face. Then, with a certain recklessness, she +spoke: + +"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I never +dreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrifice +this." + +Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat and +passively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached and +waning interest. + +"I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage has +ceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you was +ever very strong." + +Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh. + +"It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It is +scarcely surprising that it did not flourish." + +Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from his +face. He looked supremely bored. + +Lady Brooke moved towards the door. + +"It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "A +labourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I." + +"Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "A +labourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten her +spirit, and she is considerably the better for it." + +His wife stood still, very erect and queenly. + +"Not only the better, but the happier," she said very bitterly. "Even a +dog would rather be beaten than kicked to one side." + +Sir Roland lowered his paper again with startling suddenness. + +"Is that your point of view?" he said. "Then I fear I have been +neglecting my duty most outrageously. However, it is an omission easily +remedied. Let me hear no more of this masquerade, Lady Brooke! You have +my orders, and if you transgress them you will be punished in a fashion +scarcely to your liking. Is that clearly understood?" + +He looked straight up at her with cold, smiling eyes that yet seemed to +convey a steely warning. + +She shivered very slightly as she encountered them. "You make a mockery +of everything," she said, her voice very low. + +Sir Roland uttered a quiet laugh. + +"I am nevertheless a man of my word, Naomi," he said. "If you wish to +test me, you have your opportunity." + +He immersed himself finally in his paper as he ended, and she, with a +smile of proud contempt, turned and passed from the room. + +She had married him out of pique, it was true, but life with him had +never seemed intolerable until he had shown her that he knew it. + +She took her invitation with her, and in her own room sat down to read +it once again. It was from a near neighbour, Lady Blythebury, an +acquaintance with whom she was more intimate than was Sir Roland. Lady +Blythebury was a very lively person indeed. She had been on the stage in +her young days, and she had decidedly advanced ideas on the subject of +social entertainment. As a hostess, she was notorious for her +originality and energy, and though some of the county families +disapproved of her, she always knew how to secure as many guests as she +desired. Lady Brooke had known her previous to her own marriage, and she +clung to this friendship, notwithstanding Sir Roland's very obvious lack +of sympathy. + +He knew Lord Blythebury in the hunting-field. Their properties adjoined, +and it was inevitable that certain courtesies should be exchanged. But +he refused so steadily to fall a captive to Lady Blythebury's bow and +spear, that he very speedily aroused her aversion. He soon realised that +her influence over his wife was very far from benevolent towards +himself, but, save that he persisted in declining all social invitations +to Blythebury, he made no attempt to counteract the evil. In fact, it +was not his custom to coerce her. He denied her very little, though with +regard to that little he was as adamant. + +But to Naomi his non-interference was many a time more galling than his +interdiction. It was but seldom that she attempted to oppose him, and, +save that Lady Blythebury's masquerade had been discussed between them +for weeks, she would not have greatly cared for his refusal to attend +it. When Sir Roland asserted himself, it was her habit to yield without +argument. + +But now, for the first time, she asked herself if he were not presuming +upon her wifely submission. He would think more of her if she resisted +him, whispered her hurt pride, recalling the courteous indifference +which it was his custom to mete out to her. But dared she do this +thing? + +She took up the invitation again and read it. It was to be a fancy-dress +ball, and all were to wear masks. The waltz which she had learned to +dance from Lady Blythebury herself and which was only just coming into +vogue in England, was to be one of the greatest features of the evening. +There would be no foolish formality, Lady Blythebury had assured her. +The masks would preclude that. Altogether the whole entertainment +promised to be of so entrancing a nature that she had permitted herself +to look forward to it with considerable pleasure. But she might have +guessed that Sir Roland would refuse to go, she reflected, as she sat in +her dainty room with the invitation before her. Did he ever attend any +function that was not so stiff and dull that she invariably pined to +depart from the moment of arrival? + +Again she read the invitation, recalling Lady Blythebury's gay words +when last they had talked the matter over. + +"If only Una could come without the lion for once!" she had said. + +And she herself had almost echoed the wish. Sir Roland always spoilt +everything. + +Well!--She took up her pen. She supposed she must refuse. A moment it +hovered above the paper. Then, very slowly, it descended and began to +write. + + * * * + +The chatter of many voices and the rhythm of dancing feet, the strains +of a string-band in the distance, and, piercing all, the clear, high +notes of a flute, filled the spring night with wonderful sound. Lady +Blythebury had turned her husband's house into a fairy palace of +delight. She stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her florid face +beaming above her Elizabethan ruffles, looking in upon the gay and +ever-shifting scene which she had called into being. + +"I feel as if I had stepped into an Arabian Night," she laughed to one +of her guests, who stood beside her. He was dressed as a court jester, +and carried a wand which he flourished dramatically. He wore a +close-fitting black mask. + +"There is certainly magic abroad," he declared, in a rich, Irish brogue +that Lady Blythebury smiled to hear. For she also was Irish to the +backbone. + +"You know something of the art yourself, Captain Sullivan?" she asked. + +She knew the man for a friend of her husband's. He was more or less +disreputable, she believed, but he was none the less welcome on that +account. It was just such men as he who knew how to make things a +success. She relied upon the disreputable more than she would have +admitted. + +"Egad, I'm no novice in most things!" declared the court jester, waving +his wand bombastically. "But it's the magic of a pretty woman that I'm +after at the present moment. These masks, Lady Blythebury, are uncommon +inconvenient. It's yourself that knows better than to wear one. Sure, +beauty should never go veiled." + +Lady Blythebury laughed indulgently. Though she knew it for what it was, +the fellow's blarney was good to hear. + +"Ah, go and dance!" she said. "I've heard all that before. It never +means anything. Go and dance with the little lady over there in the pink +domino! I give you my word that she is pretty. Her name is Una, but she +is minus the lion on this occasion. I shall tell you no more than that." + +"Egad! It's more than enough!" said the court jester, as he bowed and +moved away. + +The lady indicated stood alone in the curtained embrasure of a +bay-window. She was watching the dancers with an absorbed air, and did +not notice his approach. + +He drew near, walking with a free swagger in time to the haunting +waltz-music. Reaching her, he stopped and executed a sweeping bow, his +hand upon his heart. + +"May I have the pleasure--" + +She looked up with a start. Her eyes shone through her mask with a +momentary irresolution as she bent in response to his bow. + +With scarcely a pause he offered her his arm. + +"You dance the waltz?" + +She hesitated for a second; then, with an affirmatory murmur, accepted +the proffered arm. The bold stare with which he met her look had in it +something of compulsion. + +He led her instantly away from her retreat, and in a moment his hand was +upon her waist. He guided her into the gay stream of dancers without a +word. + +They began to waltz--a dream--waltz in which she seemed to float without +effort, without conscious volition. Instinctively she responded to his +touch, keenly, vibrantly aware of the arm that supported her, of the +dark, free eyes that persistently sought her own. + +"Faith!" he suddenly said in his soft, Irish voice. "To find Una without +the lion is a piece of good fortune I had scarcely prayed for. And what +was the persuasion that you used at all to keep the monster in his den?" + +She glanced up, half-startled by his speech. What did this man know +about her? + +"If you mean my husband," she said at last, "I did not persuade him. He +never wished or intended to come." + +Her companion laughed as one well pleased. + +"Very generous of him!" he commented, in a tone that sent the blood to +her cheeks. + +He guided her dexterously among the dancers. The girl's breath came +quickly, unevenly, but her feet never faltered. + +"If I were the lion," said her partner daringly, "by the powers, I'd +play the part! I wouldn't be a tame beast, egad! If Una went out to a +fancy ball, my faith, I would go too!" + +Lady Brooke uttered a little, excited laugh. The words caught her +interest. + +"And suppose Una went without your leave?" she said. + +The Irishman looked at her with a humorous twist at one corner of his +mouth. + +"I'm thinking that I'd still go too," he said. + +"But if you didn't know?" She asked the question with a curious +vehemence. Her instinct told her that, however he might profess to +trifle, here at least was a man. + +"That wouldn't happen," he said, with conviction, "if I were the lion." + +The music was quickening to the _finale_, and she felt the strong arm +grow tense about her. + +"Come!" he said. "We will go into the garden." + +She went with him because it seemed that she must, but deep in her heart +there lurked a certain misgiving. There was an almost arrogant air of +power about this man. She wondered what Sir Roland would say if he knew, +and comforted herself almost immediately with the reflection that he +never could know. He had gone to Scotland, and she did not expect him +back for several weeks. + +So she turned aside with this stranger, and passed out upon his arm into +the dusk of the soft spring night. + +"You know these gardens well?" he questioned. + +She came out of her meditations. + +"Not really well. Lady Blythebury and I are friends, but we do not visit +very often." + +"And that but secretly," he laughed, "when the lion is absent?" She did +not answer him, and he continued after a moment: "'Pon my life, the +very mention of him seems to cast a cloud. Let us draw a magic circle, +and exclude him!" He waved his wand. "You knew that I was a magician?" + +There was a hint of something more than banter in his voice. They had +reached the end of the terrace, and were slowly descending the steps. +But at his last words, Lady Brooke stood suddenly still. + +"I only believe in one sort of magic," she said, "and that is beyond the +reach of all but fools." + +Her voice quivered with an almost passionate disdain. She was suddenly +aware of an intense burning misery that seemed to gnaw into her very +soul. Why had she come out with this buffoon, she wondered? Why had she +come to the masquerade at all? She was utterly out of sympathy with its +festive gaiety. A great and overmastering desire for solitude descended +upon her. She turned almost angrily to go. + +But in the same instant the jester's hand caught her own. + +"Even so, lady," he said. "But the magic of fools has led to paradise +before now." + +She laughed out bitterly: + +"A fool's paradise!" + +"Is ever green," he said whimsically. "Faith, it's no place at all for +cynics. Shall we go hand in hand to find it then--in case you miss the +way?" + +She laughed again at the quaint adroitness of his speech. But her lips +were curiously unsteady, and she found the darkness very comforting. +There was no moon, and the sky was veiled. She suffered the strong clasp +of his fingers about her own without protest. What did it matter--for +just one night? + +"Where are we going?" she asked. + +"Wait till we get there!" murmured her companion. "We are just within +the magic circle. Una has escaped from the lion." + +She felt turf beneath her feet, and once or twice the brushing of twigs +against her hand. She began to have a faint suspicion as to whither he +was leading her. But she would not ask a second time. She had yielded to +his guidance, and though her heart fluttered strangely she would not +seem to doubt. The dread of Sir Roland's displeasure had receded to the +back of her mind. Surely there was indeed magic abroad that night! It +seemed diffused in the very air she breathed. In silence they moved +along the dim grass path. From far away there came to them fitfully the +sound of music, remote and wonderful, like straying echoes of paradise. +A soft wind stirred above them, lingering secretly among opening leaves. +There was a scent of violets almost intoxicatingly sweet. + +The silence seemed magnetic. It held them like a spell. Through it, +vague and intangible as the night at first, but gradually taking +definite shape, strange thoughts began to rise in the girl's heart. + +She had consented to this adventure from sheer lack of purpose. But +whither was it leading her? She was a married woman, with her shackles +heavy upon her. Yet she walked that night with a stranger, as one who +owned her freedom. The silence between them was intimate and wonderful, +the silence which only kindred spirits can ever know. It possessed her +magically, making her past life seem dim and shadowy, and the present +only real. + +And yet she knew that she was not free. She trespassed on forbidden +ground. She tasted the forbidden fruit, and found it tragically sweet. + +Suddenly and softly he spoke: + +"Does the magic begin to work?" + +She started and tried to stop. Surely it were wiser to go back while she +had the will! But he drew her forward still. The mist overhead was +faintly silver. The moon was rising. + +"We will go to the heart of the tangle," he said. "There is nothing to +fear. The lion himself could not frighten you here." + +Again she yielded to him. There was a suspicion of raillery in his voice +that strangely reassured her. The grasp of his hand was very close. + +"We are in the maze," she said at last, breaking her silence. "Are you +sure of the way?" + +He answered her instantly with complete self-assurance. + +"Like the heart of a woman, it's hard, that it is, to find. But I think +I have the key. And if not, by the saints, I'm near enough now to break +through." + +The words thrilled her inexplicably. Truly the magic was swift and +potent. A few more steps, and she was aware of a widening of the hedge. +They were emerging into the centre of the maze. + +"Ah," said the jester, "I thought I should win through!" + +He led her forward into the shadow of a great tree. The mist was passing +very slowly from the sky. By the silvery light that filtered down from +the hidden moon Naomi made out the strong outline of his shoulders as he +stood before her, and the vague darkness of his mask. + +She put up her free hand and removed her own. The breeze had died down. +The atmosphere was hushed and airless. + +"Do you know the way back?" she asked him, in a voice that sounded +unnatural even to herself. + +"Do you want to go back, then?" he queried keenly. + +There was something in his tone--a subtle something that she had not +detected before. She began to tremble. For the first time, actual fear +took hold of her. + +"You must know the way back!" she exclaimed. "This is folly! They will +be wondering where we are." + +"Faith, Lady Una! It is the fool's paradise," he told her coolly. "They +will not wonder. They know too well that there is no way back." + +His manner terrified her. Its very quietness seemed a menace. +Desperately she tore herself from his hold, and turned to escape. But it +was as though she fled in a nightmare. Whichever way she turned she met +only the impenetrable ramparts of the hedge that surrounded her. She +could find neither entrance nor exit. It was as though the way by which +she had come had been closed behind her. + +But the brightness above was growing. She whispered to herself that she +would soon be able to see, that she could not be a prisoner for long. + +Suddenly she heard her captor close to her, and, turning in terror, she +found him erect and dominating against the hedge. With a tremendous +effort she controlled her rising panic to plead with him. + +"Indeed, I must go back!" she said, her voice unsteady, but very urgent. +"I have already stayed too long. You cannot wish to keep me here against +my will?" + +She saw him shrug his shoulders slightly. + +"There is no way back," he said, "or, if there is, I do not know it." + +There was no dismay in his voice, but neither was there exultation. He +simply stated the fact with absolute composure. Her heart gave a wild +throb of misgiving. Was the man wholly sane? + +Again she caught wildly at her failing courage, and drew herself up to +her full height. Perhaps she might awe him, even yet. + +"Sir," she said, "I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. And I--" + +"Egad!" he broke in banteringly, "that was yesterday. You are free +to-day. I have brought you out of bondage. We have found paradise +together, and, my pretty Lady Una, there is no way back." + +"But there is, there is!" she cried desperately. "And I must find it! I +tell you I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. I belong to him. No one can keep +me from him!" + +It was as though she beat upon an iron door. + +"There is no way out of the magic circle," said the jester inexorably. + +A white shaft of light illumined the mist above them, revealing the +girl's pale face, making sinister the man's masked one. He seemed to be +smiling. He bent towards her. + +"You seem amazingly fond of your chains," he said softly. "And yet, from +what I have heard, Sir Roland is no gentle tyrant. How is it, pretty +one? What makes you cling to your bondage so?" + +"He is my husband!" she said, through white lips. + +"Faith, that is no answer," he declared. "Own, now, that you hate him, +that you loathe his presence and shudder at his touch! I told you I was +a magician, Lady Una; but you wouldn't believe me at all." + +She confronted him with a sudden fury that marvellously reinforced her +failing courage. + +"You lie, sir!" she cried, stamping passionately upon the soft earth. "I +do none of these things. I have never hated him. I have never shrunk +from his touch. We have not understood each other, perhaps, but that is +a different matter, and no concern of yours." + +"He has not made you happy," said the jester persistently. "You will +never go back to him now that you are free!" + +"I will go back to him!" she cried stormily. "How dare you say such a +thing to me? How dare you?" + +He came nearer to her. + +"Listen!" he said. "It is deliverance that I am offering you. I ask +nothing at all in return, simply to make you happy, and to teach you the +blessed magic which now you scorn. Faith! It's the greatest game in the +world, Lady Una; and it only takes two players, dear, only two players!" + +There was a subtle, caressing quality in his voice. His masked face was +bending close to hers. She felt trapped and helpless, but she forced +herself to stand her ground. + +"You insult me!" she said, her voice quivering, but striving to be calm. + +"Never a bit!" he declared. "Since I am the truest friend you have!" + +She drew away from him with a gesture of repulsion. + +"You insult me!" she said again. "I have my husband, and I need no +other." + +He laughed sneeringly, the insinuating banter all gone from his manner. + +"You know he is nothing to you," he said. "He neglects you. He bullies +you. You married him because you wanted to be a married woman. Be +honest, now! You never loved him. You do not know what love is!" + +"It is false!" she cried. "I will not listen to you. Let me go!" + +He took a sudden step forward. + +"You refuse deliverance?" he questioned harshly. + +She did not retreat this time, but faced him proudly. + +"I do!" + +"Listen!" he said again, and his voice was stern. "Sir Roland Brooke has +returned home. He knows that you have disobeyed him. He knows that you +are here with me. You will not dare to face him. You have gone too far +to return." + +She gasped hysterically, and tottered for an instant, but recovered +herself. + +"I will--I will go back!" she said. + +"He will beat you like a labourer's wife," warned the jester. "He may do +worse." + +She was swaying as she stood. + +"He will do--as he sees fit," she said. + +He stooped a little lower. + +"I would make you happy, Lady Una," he whispered. "I would protect +you--shelter you--love you!" + +She flung out her hands with a wild and desperate gesture. The +magnetism of his presence had become horrible to her. + +"I am going to him--now," she said. + +Behind him she saw, in the brightening moonlight, the opening which she +had vainly sought a few minutes before. She sprang for it, darting past +him like a frightened bird seeking refuge, and in another moment she was +lost in the green labyrinths. + + * * * + +The moonlight had become clear and strong, casting black shadows all +about her. Twice, in her frantic efforts to escape, she ran back into +the centre of the maze. The jester had gone, but she imagined him +lurking behind every corner, and she impotently recalled his words: +"There is no way out of the magic circle." + +At last, panting and exhausted, she knew that she was unwinding the +puzzle. Often as its intricacies baffled her, she kept her head, +rectifying each mistake and pressing on, till the wider curve told her +that she was very near the entrance. She came upon it finally quite +suddenly, and found herself, to her astonishment, close to the terrace +steps. + +She mounted them with trembling limbs, and paused a moment to summon her +composure. Then, outwardly calm, she traversed the terrace and entered +the house. + +Lady Blythebury was dancing, and she felt she could not wait. She +scribbled a few hasty words of farewell, and gave them to a servant as +she entered her carriage. Hers was the first departure, and no one +noted it. + +She sank back at length, thankfully, in the darkness, and closed her +eyes. Whatever lay before her, she had escaped from the nightmare horror +of the shadowy garden. + +But as the brief drive neared its end, her anxiety revived. Had Sir +Roland indeed returned and discovered her absence? Was it possible? + +Her face was white and haggard as she entered the hall at last. Her eyes +were hunted. + +The servant who opened to her looked at her oddly for a moment. + +"What is it?" she said nervously. + +"Sir Roland has returned, my lady," he said. "He arrived two hours ago, +and went straight to his room, saying he would not disturb your +ladyship." + +She turned away in silence, and mounted the stairs. Did he know? Had he +guessed? Was it that that had brought him back? + +She entered her room, and dismissed the maid she found awaiting her. + +Swiftly she threw off the pink domino, and began to loosen her hair with +stiff, fumbling fingers, then shook it about her shoulders, and sank +quivering upon a couch. She could not go to bed. The terror that +possessed her was too intense, too overmastering. + +Ah! What was that? Every pulse in her body leaped and stood still at +sound of a low knock at the door. Who could it be? gasped her fainting +heart. Not Sir Roland, surely! He never came to her room now. + +Softly the door opened. It was Sir Roland and none other--Sir Roland +wearing an old velvet smoking--jacket, composed as ever, his grey eyes +very level and inscrutable. + +He paused for a single instant upon the threshold, then came noiselessly +in and closed the door. + +Naomi sat motionless and speechless. She lacked the strength to rise. +Her hands were pressed upon her heart. She thought its beating would +suffocate her. + +He came quietly across the room to her, not seeming to notice her +agitation. + +"I should not have disturbed you at this hour if I had not been sure +that you were awake," he said. + +Reaching her, he bent and touched her white cheek. + +"Why, child, how cold you are!" he said. + +She started violently back, and then, as a sudden memory assailed her, +she caught his hand and held it for an instant. + +"It is nothing," she said with an effort. "You--you startled me." + +"You are nervous tonight," said Sir Roland. + +She shrank under his look. + +"You see, I did not expect you," she murmured. + +"Evidently not." Sir Roland stood gravely considering her. "I came +back," he said, after a moment, "because it occurred to me that you +might be lonely after all, in spite of your assurance to the contrary. +I did not ask you to accompany me, Naomi. I did not think you would care +to do so. But I regretted it later, and I have come back to remedy the +omission. Will you come with me to Scotland?" + +His tone was quiet and somewhat formal, but there was in it a kindliness +that sent the blood pulsing through her veins in a wave of relief even +greater than her astonishment at his words. He did not know, then. That +was her one all-possessing thought. He could not know, or he had not +spoken to her thus. + +She sat slowly forward, drawing her hair about her shoulders like a +cloak. She felt for the moment an overpowering weakness, and she could +not look up. + +"I will come, of course," she said at last, her voice very low, "if you +wish it." + +Sir Roland did not respond at once. Then, as his silence was beginning +to disquiet her again, he laid a steady hand upon the shadowing hair. + +"My dear," he said gently, "have you no wishes upon the subject?" + +Again she started at his touch, and again, as if to rectify the start, +drew ever so slightly nearer to him. It was many, many days since she +had heard that tone from him. + +"My wishes are yours," she told him faintly. + +His hand was caressing her softly, very softly. Again he was silent for +a while, and into her heart there began to creep a new feeling that +made her gradually forget the immensity of her relief. She sat +motionless, save that her head drooped a little lower, ever a little +lower. + +"Naomi," he said, at last, "I have been thinking a good deal lately. We +seem to have been wandering round and round in a circle. I have been +wondering if we could not by any means find a way out?" + +She made a sharp, involuntary movement. What was this that he was saying +to her? + +"I don't quite understand," she murmured. + +His hand pressed a little upon her, and she knew that he was bending +down. + +"You are not happy," he said, with grave conviction. + +She could not contradict him. + +"It is my own fault," she managed to say, without lifting her head. + +"I do not think so," he returned, "at least, not entirely. I know that +there have frequently been times when you have regretted your marriage. +For that you were not to blame." He paused an instant. "Naomi," he said, +a new note in his voice, "I think I am right in believing that, +notwithstanding this regret, you do not in your heart wish to leave me?" + +She quivered, and hid her face in silence. + +He waited a few seconds, and finally went on as if she had answered in +the affirmative. + +"That being so, I have a foundation on which to build. I would not ask +of you anything which you feel unable to grant. But there is only one +way for us to get out of the circle that I can see. Will you take it +with me, Naomi? Shall we go away together, and leave this miserable +estrangement behind us?" + +His voice was low and tender. Yet she felt instinctively that he had not +found it easy to expose his most sacred reserve thus. She moved +convulsively, trying to answer him, trying for several unworthy moments +to accept in silence the shelter his generosity had offered her. But her +efforts failed, for she had not been moulded for deception; and this new +weapon of his had cut her to the heart. Heavy, shaking sobs overcame +her. + +"Hush!" he said. "Hush! I never dreamed you felt it so." + +"Ah, you don't know me!" she whispered. "I--I am not what you think me. +I have disobeyed you, deceived you, cheated you!" Humbled to the earth, +she made piteous, halting confession before her tyrant. "I was at the +masquerade tonight. I waltzed--and afterwards went into the maze--in the +dark--with a stranger--who made love to me. I never--meant you--to +know." + +Silence succeeded her words, and, as she waited for him to rise and +spurn her, she wondered how she had ever brought herself to utter them. +But she would not have recalled them even then. He moved at last, but +not as she had anticipated. He gathered the tumbled hair back from her +face, and, bending over her, he spoke. Even in her agony of +apprehension she noted the curious huskiness of his voice. + +"And yet you told me," he said. "Why?" + +She could not answer him, nor could she raise her face. He was not +angry, she knew now; but yet she felt that she could not meet his eyes. + +There was a short silence, then he spoke again, close to her ear: + +"You need not have told me, Naomi." + +The words amazed her. With a great start of bewilderment she lifted her +head and looked at him. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She thought +she saw a smile hovering about his lips, but it was of a species she had +never seen there before. + +"Because," he explained gently, "I knew." + +She stared at him in wonder, scarcely breathing, the tears all gone from +her eyes. + +"You--knew!" she said slowly, at last. + +"Yes, I knew," he said. He looked deep into her eyes for seconds, and +then she felt him drawing her irresistibly to him. She yielded herself +as driftwood yields to a racing flood, no longer caring for the +interpretation of the riddle, scarcely remembering its existence; heard +him laugh above her head--a brief, exultant laugh--as he clasped her. +And then came his lips upon her own.... + +"You see, dear," he said later, a quiver that was not all laughter in +his voice, "it is not so remarkably wonderful, after all, that I should +know all about it, when you come to consider that I was there--there +with you in the magic circle all the time." + +"You were there!" she echoed, turning in his arms. "But how was it I +never knew? Why did I not see you?" + +"Faith, sweetheart, I think you did!" said Sir Roland. Then, at her +quick cry of amazed understanding: "I wanted to teach you a lesson, but, +sure, I'm thinking it's myself that learned one, after all." And, as she +clung to him, still hardly believing: "We have found our paradise +together, my Lady Una," he whispered softly. "And, love, there is no way +back." + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE LOOKER-ON + + +I + +"Oh, I'm going to be Lady Jane Grey," said Charlie Cleveland, balancing +himself on the deck-rail in front of his friends, Mrs. Langdale and +Mollie Erle, with considerable agility. "And, Mollie, I say, will you +lend me a black silk skirt? I saw you were wearing one last night." + +He spoke with complete seriousness. It was this boy's way to infuse into +all his actions an enthusiasm that deprived the most trifling of the +commonplace element. He was the gayest passenger on board--the very life +of the boat. Yet he had few accomplishments to recommend him, his +abundant spirits alone attaining for him the popularity he everywhere +enjoyed. + +Molly Erle, who with Mrs. Langdale was returning home after spending the +winter with some friends at Calcutta, regarded him with a toleration not +wholly devoid of contempt. He apparently deemed it necessary to pay her +a good deal of attention, and Molly was strongly determined to keep him +at a distance--a matter, by the way, that had its difficulties in face +of young Cleveland's romping lack of ceremony. + +"Yes, you may have the skirt," she said with a generosity not wholly +spontaneous, as he waited expectantly for a reply to his request. + +"Ah, good!" he said effusively. "That is a great weight off my mind. And +may I have Number Ten on your programme?" + +"Are you going to dance?" asked Mrs. Langdale, with a half-suppressed +laugh. + +He turned upon her, grinning openly. + +"No. Fisher says I mustn't. I'm going to sit out, dear Mrs. Langdale--a +modest wall-flower for once. I hope you will all be very kind to me. +Have you made a note of Number Ten, Molly--I mean, Miss Erle? No? But +you will, though. Ah! Thanks, awfully! Here comes Fisher! I wish you +would persuade him to do Guildford Dudley. I can't." + +He bounced off the rail and departed, laughing. + +Molly looked after him with slight disapprobation on her pretty face. He +was such a thoroughly nice boy. She wished with almost unreasonable +intensity that he possessed more of that sterling quality, solidity, for +which his travelling companion, Fisher, was chiefly noteworthy. + +Captain Fisher approached them with a casual air as if he had drifted +their way by accident. He was one of those oppressively quiet men who +possess the unhappy knack of appearing wholly out of touch with all +social surroundings. There was a reticence about him which almost all +took for surliness, but which was in reality merely a somewhat +unattractive mixture of awkwardness and laziness. + +He was in the Royal Engineers, and believed to be a very clever man in +his profession. But there was never anything in the least bright or +original in his conversation. Yet, for some vague reason, Molly credited +him with the ability to do great deeds, and was particularly gracious to +him. + +Mrs. Langdale, who was lively herself, infinitely preferred Charlie +Cleveland's boisterous company, and on the present occasion she rose to +follow him with great promptitude. + +"I must find out how he has managed the rest of his costume," she said +to Molly. "It is sure to be strikingly original--like himself." + +The contempt deepened a little on Molly's face, contempt and regret--an +odd mixture. + +"He is very funny, no doubt," she said; "but I think one gets a little +tired of his perpetual gaiety. I don't think we should find him so +delightful if a storm came on. I haven't much faith in those people who +can never take anything really seriously. I believe he would die +laughing." + +"All the better," declared Mrs. Langdale, who loved Charlie's impetuous +ways with maternal tolerance. "It is always better to laugh than cry, my +dear; though it isn't always easier by any means." + +She departed with the words, laughing a little to herself at Molly's +critical mood; and Captain Fisher went and sat stolidly down beside +Molly, who turned to him with an instant smile of welcome. She was the +only lady on board who was never bored by this man's quiet society. She +liked him thoroughly, finding the contrast between him and his volatile +friend a great relief. + +Fisher never talked frivolities; indeed, he seldom talked at all. Yet to +Molly the hour he spent beside her on that sunny day in the +Mediterranean passed as pleasantly and easily as she could have desired. + +Captain Fisher might seem heavy to others, but never to her--a fact of +which secretly she was rather proud. + + +II + +"Come up on deck!" whispered Charlie in an eager undertone. "There's no +one there, and the night is divine." + +Molly Erie looked at the strange figure in fancy-dress beside her and +laughed aloud. She had not allowed Charlie a _tête-à -tête_ for many +days, but she felt that he could scarcely attempt to be sentimental in +that costume. + +She went with him, therefore, thinking what a pretty girl he would have +made. + +Charlie led her to the deck-rail. His ridiculous figure was less +obtrusively absurd in the dim light. His laughing voice, lowered +half-confidently, half-reverently, sounded less inconsequent than was +its wont. + +Suddenly he turned to her and spoke with wholly unexpected vehemence. + +"I can't keep it in," he said. "You've got to know it. Molly, I love you +most awfully. You do know it, I believe, without being told. Why do you +always run away and hide when I try to speak?" + +He spoke quickly, jerkily. She glanced at him with a nervous movement as +she drew back. He was not laughing for once, yet she fancied there was +the shadow of a smile quivering about his face. Possibly it was an +illusion. The dim light made everything indefinite. But the suspicion +roused in her in full strength her prejudice against him. She drew back +deliberately, and her anger grew from scorn to cruelty during the +moments that intervened between his question and her answer. + +"You have chosen a very appropriate occasion," she remarked icily at +length. "Do you imagine yourself irresistible when playing the fool, I +wonder?" + +He faced round on her. + +"I have taken the only opportunity I could get," he said. "I am a slave +of circumstance. If I had come to you in rational costume you would not +have consented to sit out with me." + +There was a ring of laughter in his explanation. He did not take her +anger seriously, then. Molly quivered with indignation. She would +speedily show him his mistake. + +"You think, then," she said, "that this buffoonery is too amusing to be +foregone? I am afraid I do not agree with you." + +She paused. Charlie had given a great start of surprise. She could see +the astonishment on his boyish face under the white mantilla he wore. + +"Oh, look here!" he exclaimed impetuously. "You have got the wrong side +of everything. It isn't buffoonery. I don't play with sacred things. +I'm in earnest, Molly. Can't you see it? What do you take me for?" + +She heard the note of honesty in his voice and shifted her batteries. + +"You may be--for a moment," she said, scorn vibrating in every word she +uttered. "But you will soon get over it, you know. By to-morrow, or even +sooner, all danger will be over." + +"Stop!" exclaimed Charlie. For the first time in all her dealings with +him he spoke sternly, as a man might speak, and Molly started at his +tone. "You are making a mistake," he said more quietly. "I am not the +superficial ass you take me for." + +"I have only your word for that," she returned, striking without pity +because for a second he had startled her out of her contemptuous +attitude. + +He looked at her in silence, and again her indignation arose full-armed +against him. How dared he--this clown in woman's clothes--speak to her +at such a moment of that which she rightly held to be the holiest thing +on earth? + +"How can you expect me to believe you?" she demanded. "You tell me you +are in earnest. But you know as well as I do that that is a mere figure +of speech. You are never in earnest. You play all day long. You will do +it all your life. You never do anything worth mentioning. Other people +do the work. You simply skim the surface of things. You are merely a +looker-on." + +"A very intelligent looker-on, though," said Charlie, in a tone she did +not wholly understand. + +"And if I don't do anything worth doing, it is possibly lack of +opportunity, isn't it? I can do many things, from driving engines to +playing skittles. Take a man for what he is, not for what he does! It is +the only fair estimate. Otherwise the blatant fools get all the honey." + +Molly uttered a scornful little laugh. + +"This is paltry," she exclaimed. "A man's actions are the actual man. He +can make his own opportunities. No, Mr. Cleveland. You will never +convince me of your intrinsic worth by talking." + +She paused, as it were, involuntarily. Again that startled feeling of +uncertainty was at her heart. There was a momentary silence. Then +Charlie made her an odd, jerky bow, and without a single word further +turned and left her. + +Quaint as was his attire, ungainly as were his movements, there was in +his withdrawal a touch of dignity, even a hint of the sublime; and Molly +could not understand it. + +She paced the length of the deck and sat down to regain her composure. +The interview had left her considerably ruffled, even ill at ease. + + +III + +She had been sitting there for some moments when suddenly, with a great +throb that seemed to vibrate through the whole length of the great +vessel from end to end, the engines ceased. The music in the large +saloon, where the first-class passengers were dancing, came to an abrupt +stop. There was a pause, a thrilling, intense pause; and then the +confusion of voices. + +A man ran quickly by her to the bridge, where she could dimly discern +the first-officer on watch. She sprang up, dreading she knew not what, +and at the same instant Charlie--she knew it was he by the flutter of +the ridiculous garb he wore--leapt off the bridge like a hurricane, and +tore past her. + +He was gone in a second, almost before she had had time to realise his +flying presence; and the next moment passengers were streaming up on +deck, asking questions, uttering surmises, on the verge of panic, yet +trying to ignore the anxiety that tugged at their resolution. + +Molly joined the crowd. She was frightened too, badly frightened; but it +is always better to face fear in company. So at least says human +instinct. + +The passengers collected in a restless mass on the upper deck. The +captain was seen going swiftly to the bridge. After a brief word with +him the first-officer came down to them. He was a pleasant, +easy-tempered man, and did not appear in the least dismayed. + +"It's all right," he said, raising his voice. "Please don't be alarmed! +There has been a little accident in the engine-room. The captain hopes +you won't let it interfere with your dancing." + +He placed himself in the thick of the strangely dressed crowd. His +clean-shaven face was perfectly unconcerned. + +"I'll come and join you, if I may," he said. "The captain allows me to +knock off. Will you admit a non-fancy-dresser?" + +He led the way below, calling for the orchestra as he went. The +frightened crowd turned and followed as if in this one man who spoke +with the voice of authority protection could be found. But they hung +back from dancing, and after a pause the first-officer seized a banjo +and proceeded to entertain them with comic songs. He kept it up for a +while, and then Mrs. Langdale went nobly to his assistance and sang some +Irish songs. One or two other volunteers presented themselves, and the +evening's entertainment developed into a concert. + +The tension relaxed considerably as the time slipped by, but it did not +wholly pass. It was noticed that the doctor was absent. + +A reluctance to disperse for the night was very manifestly obvious. + +About two hours after the first alarm the great ship thrilled as if in +answer to some monster touch. The languid roll ceased. The engines +started again firmly, regularly, with gradually rising speed. In less +than a minute all was as it had been. + +A look of intense relief shot across the first-officer's quiet face. + +"That means 'All's well,'" he said, raising his voice a little. "Let us +congratulate ourselves and turn in!" + +"There has been danger, then, Mr. Gresley?" queried Mrs. Granville, a +lady who liked to know everything in detail. + +Mr. Gresley laughed with an indifference perfectly unaffected. "I +believe the engineers thought so," he said. "I must refer you to them +for particulars. Anyhow, it's all right now. I am going to tell the +steward to bring coffee." + +He got up leisurely and strolled away. + +There was a slight commotion on the other side of the door as he opened +it, a giggle that sounded rather hysterical. A moment later Lady Jane +Grey; her head-gear gone, her shorn curls looking absurdly frivolous, +walked mincingly into the saloon and subsided upon the nearest seat. She +was attended by Captain Fisher, who looked anxious. + +"Such a misfortune!" she remarked, in a squeaky voice that sounded, +somehow, a horrible strain. "I have been shut up in the Tower and have +only just escaped. I trust I am not too late for my execution. I'm +afraid I have kept you all waiting." + +All the heaviness of misgiving passed out of the atmosphere in a burst +of merriment. + +"Where on earth have you been hiding?" shouted Major Granville. "I +believe you have been playing the fool with us, you rascal." + +"I!" cried Charlie. "My dear sir, what are you thinking of? If you were +to breathe such a suspicion as that to the captain he would clap me in +irons for the rest of the voyage." + +"You have been in the engine-room for all that," said Mrs. Langdale, +whose powers of observation were very keen. "Look at your skirt!" + +Charlie glanced at the garment in question. It was certainly the worse +for wear. There were some curious patches in the front that had the +appearance of oil stains. + +"That'll be all right!" he said cheerfully. "I had a fright and tumbled +upstairs. Skirts are beastly awkward things to run away in, aren't they, +Mrs. Langdale? Well, good-night all! I'm going to bed." + +He got up with the words, grinned at everyone collectively, picked up +the injured skirt with exaggerated care, and stepped out of the saloon. + +Mrs. Langdale looked after him, half-laughing, yet with a touch of +concern. + +"He looks queer," she remarked to Molly, who was standing by her. "Quite +white and shaky. I believe something has happened to him. He has hurt +himself in some way." + +But Molly was feeling peculiarly indignant at that moment, though not +on account of her ruined skirt. + +"He's a silly poltroon!" she said with emphasis, and walked stiffly +away. + +Charlie Cleveland had recovered from his serious fit even sooner than +she had thought possible; and, though she had made it sufficiently clear +to him that as a serious suitor he was utterly unwelcome, she was +intensely angry with him for having so swiftly resumed his customary gay +spirits. + + +IV + +"Come! What happened last evening? We want to know," said Major +Granville, in his slightly overbearing manner. "I saw you with the +second engineer this morning, Fisher. I'm sure you have ferreted it +out." + +"I am not at liberty to pass on my information," responded Fisher +stolidly. "You wouldn't understand it if I did, Major. There was danger +and there was steam. Two of the engineers had their arms scalded, and +one of the stokers was badly hurt. I can't tell you any more than that." + +"Do you go so far as to say that the ship herself was in danger?" asked +Major Granville. He was talking loudly, as was his wont, across the +smoking saloon. + +"I should say so," said Fisher, without lifting his eyes from the +magazine he was deliberately studying. + +"Where is young Cleveland this morning?" asked the Major abruptly. + +Fisher shrugged his shoulders. + +"He was in his bunk when I saw him last. Heaven knows what he may be up +to by now." + +Charlie Cleveland strolled in at this juncture. He had his right arm in +a sling. + +"Hullo!" he said. "How are you all? I'm on the sick-list to-day. I +sprained my wrist when I fell up the steps yesterday." + +Fisher glanced at him for a moment over the top of his magazine and +resumed his reading in silence. + +"Look here, my friend!" he said. "You were in the thick of this engine +business. I am sure of it." + +"I was," said Charlie readily. "But for me you would all be at the +bottom of the sea by this time." + +He threw himself into a chair with a broad grin at Major Granville's +contemptuous countenance and took up a book. + +Major Granville looked intensely disgusted. It was scarcely credible +that a passenger could have penetrated to the engine-room and interfered +with the machinery there, yet he more than half believed that this +outrageous thing had actually occurred. He got up after a brief silence +and stalked stiffly from the saloon. + +Charlie banged down his book with a yell of laughter. + +"Didn't I tell you, Fisher?" he cried. "He's gone to have a good, +square, face-to-face talk with the captain. But he won't get anything +out of him. I've been there first." + +He went up on deck and found a party of quoit-players. Molly Erle was +among them. Charlie stood and watched, yelling advice and +encouragement. + +"Looking on as usual?" the girl said to him presently, with a bitter +little smile, as she found herself near him. + +He nodded. + +"I'm really afraid to speak to you to-day," he said. "Your skirt will +never again bear the light of day." + +"What happened?" she said briefly. + +The game was over, and they strolled away together across the deck. + +"I'll tell you," he said, with ill-suppressed gaiety in his voice. "We +should all have been blown out of the water last night if it hadn't been +for me. Forgetful of my finery, I went and--looked on. The magic result +was that I saved the situation, and--incidentally, of course--the ship." + +He stopped. + +"You don't believe me?" he said abruptly. + +Her lip curled a little. + +"Do you really expect to be believed?" she said. + +"I don't know," he said; "I thought it was the usual thing to do between +friends." + +"I was not aware--" began Molly. + +He broke in with a most disarming smile. + +"Oh, please," he said. "I don't deserve that--anyhow. I'm awfully sorry +about the skirt. I hope you'll let me bear the cost of the damage. I've +got into hot water all round. Nobody will believe I'm seriously sorry, +though it's a fact for all that. Don't be hard on me, Molly, I say!" + +There was a note of genuine pleading in the last words that induced her +to relent a little. + +"Oh, well, I'll forgive you for the skirt," she said. "I suppose boys +can't help being mischievous, though you are nearly old enough to know +better." + +She looked at him as she said it. His face was comically penitent. +Somehow she could not quarrel with the lurking smile in his merry eyes. +He was certainly a boy. He would never be anything else. But Molly did +not realise this, and she was still too young herself to have +appreciated the gift of perpetual youth had she been aware of its +existence. + +"That's right!" said Charlie cheerily. "And perhaps"--he spoke +cautiously, with a half-deprecatory glance at her bright +face--"perhaps--in time, you know--you will be able to forgive me for +something else as well." + +"I think the less we say about that the better," remarked Molly, tilting +her chin a little. + +"All right!" said Charlie equably. "Only, you know"--his voice was +suddenly grave--"I was--and am--in earnest." + +Molly laughed. + +"So far as in you lies, I suppose?" she said indifferently. "I wonder if +you ever really did anything worth doing in your life, Mr. Cleveland." + +"I wish you would call me Charlie!" he said impulsively. "Yes. I +proposed to you last night. Wasn't that worth doing?" + +She drew her brows together in a quick frown, but she made no reply. +Fisher was drifting towards them. She turned deliberately, her head very +high, and strolled to meet him. + +Charlie glanced over his shoulder, stood a moment irresolute, then +walked away more soberly than usual towards the bridge, where he was a +constant and welcome visitor. + + +V + +"There are plenty of fine chaps in the world who aren't to be recognised +as such at first sight," drawled Bertie Richmond to his young cousin, +Molly Erle, who was sitting with her feet on the fender on a very cold +winter evening. + +"I'm sure of that," said Mrs. Richmond from the other side of the fire, +with a tender glance at her husband's loosely knit figure. "I never +thought there was an inch of heroism in you, Bertie darling, till that +day when we went punting and we got upset. How brave you were! I've +never forgotten it. It was the beginning of everything." + +"It sounds as if it were nearer being the end," remarked Molly, who +systematically avoided all sentiment. "I don't believe myself that any +man can be actually heroic and yet not betray it somehow." + +"You're wrong," said Bertie. + +"I don't think so," said Molly. She could be quite as obstinate as most +women, and this was a point upon which she was very decided. + +"I'll prove it," said Bertie, with quiet determination. "There's a chap +coming with the crowd of sportsmen to-morrow who is the bravest and, I +think, the best fellow I ever met. I shan't tell you who he is. I'll +leave you to find out--if you can. But I don't believe you will." + +"I am quite sure I can tell the difference between a looker-on, a mere +loafer, and a man who does," said Molly, with absolute confidence. + +"Bet you you don't!" murmured Bertie Richmond, smiling at the ceiling. +"I know the woman's theory so jolly well." + +Molly smiled also. + +"I'll take your bet, whatever it is, Bertie," she said. + +Bertie shook his head. + +"No, I don't bet on a dead cert," he said comfortably. "I'll even tell +you the fellow's heroic deeds, and then you'll never spot him. I met him +first in South Africa. He saved my life twice. Once he carried me nearly +a mile under fire, and got wounded in the process. Another time he sat +all night under fire holding a fellow's artery. Since then he has been +knocking about in odd corners, doing splendid things in the dark, as it +were, for he is horribly modest. The last I heard of him was from my +friend Captain Raglan. He travelled on Raglan's ship from Calcutta, One +night in the Mediterranean something went wrong in the engine-room. Two +of the boat's engineers were badly scalded. They managed to get away, +but a wretched stoker was too hurt to escape, and this fellow--this hero +of mine--went down into a perfect inferno and got him out. Not only +that, he went back afterwards with one of the engineers to direct him, +and worked like a bull till the mischief was put right. There was danger +of an explosion every moment, but he never lost his nerve for an +instant. When it was over everyone concerned was sworn to secrecy, and +not a passenger on board that boat knew what had actually taken place. +As I said before, he is not the sort of chap anyone would credit with +that sort of heroism. I shan't tell you what he is like in other +respects." + +"I probably know," said Molly. "I came home on Captain Raglan's ship in +the autumn." + +"What! You were on board?" exclaimed Bertie. "What a rum go! You will +meet one or two old friends, then. And the hero is probably known to you +already, though I'm sure you have never taken him for such." + +"Oh, you're quite wrong!" laughed Molly. "I have known him and detected +his splendid qualities for quite a long while. He is nice, isn't he? I +am glad he is coming." + +She took up her book with slightly heightened colour, and began to turn +over its pages. + +Bertie Richmond stared at her in silence for some moments. + +"Well!" he said at last. "You have got sharper insight than any woman I +know." + +"Thanks!" said Molly, with an indifferent laugh. "But you are not so +awfully great on that point yourself, are you, Bertie? I should say you +are scarcely a competent judge." + +Mrs. Richmond protested on Bertie's behalf, but without effect. Molly +was slightly vexed with him for imagining that she could be so dull. + + +VI + +The great country house was invaded by a host of guests on the following +day. Portmanteaux and gun-cases were continually in evidence. The place +was filled to overflowing. + +Mrs. Langdale, who was Mrs. Richmond's greatest friend, arrived in +excellent spirits, and was delighted to find Molly Erle a fellow-guest. + +"And actually," she said, "Charlie Cleveland and Captain Fisher are +going to swell the throng of sportsmen. We shall imagine ourselves back +in our old board-ship days. Charlie was talking about them and of all +the fun we had only last Saturday. Yes, I have seen him several times +lately. He has been staying in town, waiting for something to turn up, +he says. Funny boy! He is just as gay as ever. And Captain Fisher, whom +he dragged to my flat to tea, is every bit as heavy and uninteresting, +poor dear!" + +"I don't call Captain Fisher uninteresting," remarked Molly. "At least, +I never found him so in the old days." + +"My dear, he is heavy as lead!" declared Mrs. Langdale. "I believe he +only opened his mouth once to speak, and then it was to ask for five +lumps of sugar instead of three. A most wearing person to entertain. I +will never have him at my table without Charlie to raise the gloom. He +and Charlie seemed to have decided to join forces for the present. They +spent Christmas together with Captain Fisher's people. I don't know if +they are as sober as he is. If so, poor dear Charlie must have felt +distinctly out of his element. But his spirits are wonderful. I believe +he would make a tombstone laugh." + +"It will be nice to see him again," said Molly tolerantly. "It is three +months now since we dispersed." + +She made the remark with another thought in her mind. Surely by this +Charlie would have forgotten the folly that had caused her annoyance in +the old days! Constancy was the very last quality with which she +credited him. Or so at least she thought. + +She went for a walk on the rocky shore that afternoon, meeting the +steely north-east blast with a good deal of resolution, if scant +enjoyment. Something in the immediate future she found vaguely +disquieting, something connected with Charlie Cleveland. + +She did not believe that her estimate of this young man was in any way +wide of the mark. And yet the thought of meeting him again had in it a +disturbing element for which she could not account. It worried her a +good deal that wild afternoon in January. Perhaps a suspicion that she +had once done young Cleveland an injustice strengthened the unwelcome +sense of regret, for it felt like regret in her mind. + +Yet as she turned homeward along the windy shore one comforting +reflection came to her and remained with her. She was at least +unfeignedly glad that Captain Fisher was going to be there. She liked +those silent, strong men who did all the hard work and then stood aside +to let the tide of praise and admiration flood past. + +Right well did her cousin's description fit this quiet hero, she told +herself with flushed cheeks. + +She remembered how he had spoken of him as "doing splendid things in the +dark, as it were," as being "horribly modest." Fisher's heavy +personality came before her with the memory. She could detect the +heroism behind the grave exterior with which this man baffled all +others. + +If Charlie had been a hero, too, instead of a frivolous imp of mischief! + +A sigh rose in her heart. Somehow, even though she told herself she had +no interest in the matter, Molly wished that he were something more +valuable than the flippant looker-on she took him to be. How could any +man, who was worth anything, bear to be only that, she wondered? + +She found a large party gathered in the hall at tea on her return. A +laugh she knew fell on her ears as she entered, and an instant later she +was aware of Charlie springing to meet her, his brown face aglow with +the smile of welcome. + +"How awfully good to meet you here, Molly!" he said, with that audacious +use of her Christian name against which no protest of hers seemed to +take any effect. + +She shook hands with him and she tried to do it coldly, but his warm +grasp was close and lingering. She realised with something of a shock +that he really was as glad as he professed to be to see her again. + +She went forward to the group around the fire and shook hands with all +she knew. + +Captain Fisher was the last to receive this attention. He was standing +in the background. He moved forward half a pace to greet her. In his own +peculiar, dumb fashion he also seemed pleased to meet her there. + +He had an untasted cup of tea in his hand which he hastened to pass on +to her. + +"I shouldn't accept it if I were you," laughed Mrs. Langdale. "I saw ten +lumps of sugar go into it just now." + +Fisher raised his eyebrows, but made no verbal protest. He never spoke +if a gesture would do as well. + +Molly accepted the cup of tea with a gracious smile, and Fisher found +her a chair and sat silently down beside her. + +Molly had plenty to say at all times. Her companion did not embarrass +her by his lack of responsiveness as he embarrassed most people. She had +a feeling that his reticence did not spring from inattention. + +"I am going to let you have the Silent Fish, as Charlie calls him, for +partner at dinner," her hostess said to her later. "You are a positive +marvel, Molly. He becomes quite genial under your influence." + +Fisher brightened considerably when he found himself allotted to Molly. +He even conversed a little, and went so far as to seek her out in the +drawing-room later. + +Charlie, who was making tracks in the same direction, turned sharply +away when he saw it, and went off to the billiard-room where several of +the rest were collected playing pool. He was in uproarious spirits, and +the whole gathering was speedily infected thereby. + +The evening ended in a boisterous abandonment to childish games, and the +party broke up at midnight, exhausted but still merry. Charlie, after an +animated sponge-fight with half-a-dozen other sportsmen, finally effaced +himself by bolting into Fisher's bedroom and locking himself in. + +To Fisher, who was smoking peacefully by the fire, he made hurried +apology, to which Fisher gruffly responded by requesting him to get out. + +But Charlie, after listening to the babel dying away down the corridor, +turned round with a smile and established himself at comfortable length +on Fisher's bed. + +"I want to talk to you, dear old fellow," he tenderly remarked. "Can you +spare me a few moments of your valuable time?" + +"Two minutes," said Fisher with brevity. + +"By Jove! What generosity!" ejaculated Charlie, his hands clasped behind +his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "It's rather a delicate matter. +However, here goes! Do you seriously mean business, or don't you? Are +you in sober earnest, or aren't you? Are you badly smitten, or are you +only just beginning to hover round the candle? Pardon my mixture of +similes! The meaning remains intact." + +Silence followed his somewhat involved speech. After a pause Captain +Fisher got up slowly, and turned round to face the boy on his bed. + +"Whatever your meaning may be, I don't fathom it," he said curtly. + +Charlie rolled on to his side to look at him. + +"Dense as a London fog," he murmured. + +"You'd better go," said Fisher, dropping his cigarette into the fire and +beginning to undress. + +Charlie sat up and watched him with an air of interest. Fisher took no +more notice of him. There was no waste of ceremony between these two. + +Charlie got up at last and laid sudden hands on his friend's square +shoulders. + +"I think it wouldn't hurt you to give me a straight answer, old boy," he +said, a flicker of something that was not mischief in his eyes. + +Fisher faced him instantly. + +"What is it you want to know?" he inquired bluntly. + +"This only," Charlie said, with perfect steadiness. "Are you going in +for Miss Erle in solid earnest or are you not? I want to know your +intentions, that's all." + +"I can't enlighten you, then," returned Fisher. + +Charlie laughed without effort. + +"Cautious old duffer!" he said. "Well, tell me this! I've no right to +ask it. Only somehow I've got to know. You care for her, don't you?" + +Fisher looked at him keenly for a moment. "Why do you ask?" he said. + +"Oh, it's infernal impertinence, of course. I admit that," said Charlie, +his tanned face growing suddenly red. "I suspected it, you see, ages +ago--on board ship, in fact. Is it true, then?" + +Fisher turned abruptly from him, and began to wind his watch with +extreme care. He spoke at length with his back turned on Charlie, who +was waiting with extraordinary patience for his answer. + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "It is true." + +"Go on and prosper!" said Charlie with a gay laugh. "You have my +blessing, old chap. Thanks for telling me!" + +He moved up to Fisher and thrust out an immense brown paw. + +"Take a friend's advice, man!" he said. "Ask her soon!" + +Then he bounced out of the room with his usual brisk energy, and shut +the door noisily behind him. + + +VII + +Was it by happy accident or by some kind friend's deliberate provision +that Fisher found himself walking alone with Molly Erle to church on the +following Sunday? Across the frosty park the voices of the other +churchgoers sounded fitfully distinct. + +Charlie Cleveland and another boy called Archie Croft, as hare-brained +as himself, were making Mrs. Langdale slide along the slippery drive. +Mrs. Langdale's laughter could be plainly heard. Molly thought her, +privately, rather childish to suffer herself to be thus carried away. + +Her companion was sauntering very slowly at her side. + +"I think we are late," Molly presently remarked, in a suggestive tone. + +"Are we?" said Fisher. "Does it matter?" + +"Yes," said Molly with decision. "I don't like going in after the +service has begun." + +"We won't," said Fisher. + +She looked at him in some surprise and found him gravely watching her. + +"I don't think we ought to do that," she remarked, smiling a little. + +"I'll go with you to-night," said Fisher, "if you will come with me +now." + +They had come to a path that branched off towards the shore. He stopped +with an air of determination. + +Molly stopped too, looking irresolute. Her heart was beating very fast. +She wished he would turn his eyes away. + +Suddenly he took his hand from his pocket and held it out to her. + +"Come with me, Miss Erle!" he said, in a quiet tone. + +She hesitated momentarily, then as he waited she put her hand in his. + +She glanced up at him as she did so, her face a glow of colour. + +"How far, Captain Fisher?" she said faintly. + +"All the way," said Fisher, with a sudden smile that illuminated his +sombre countenance like a searchlight on a dark sea. + +Molly laughed softly. + +"How far is that?" she said. + +He drew the little hand to his breast and put his free arm round her. + +"Further than we can see, Molly," he said, and his quiet voice suddenly +thrilled. "Side by side through eternity." + +Thus, with no word of love, did Fisher the Silent take to himself the +priceless gift of love. And the girl he wooed loved him the better for +that which he left unuttered. + +They returned home late for lunch, entering sheepishly, and sitting down +as far apart as the length of the table would allow. + +Charlie fell upon Fisher with merciless promptitude. + +"You base defaulter!" he cried. "I'll see you march in front next time. +I was never more scandalised in my life than when I realised that you +and Molly had done a slope." + +Fisher shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and offered no explanation +of his and Molly's defection. + +Charlie kept up a running fire of chaff for some time, to which Fisher, +as was his wont, showed himself to be perfectly indifferent. Lunch over, +Molly disappeared. Charlie saw her go and turned instantly to Fisher. + +"Come and have a single on the asphalt court!" he said. "I haven't tried +it yet. I want to." + +Fisher was reluctant, but yielded to persuasion. + +They went off together, Charlie with an affectionate arm round his +friend's shoulders. + +"I am to congratulate, I suppose?" he asked, as they crossed the garden +to the tennis-court. + +Fisher looked at him gravely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. + +"You may, if it gives you any pleasure to do so, my boy," he said. + +"Ah, that's good!" said Charlie. "You're a jolly good fellow, old chap. +You'll make her awfully happy." + +"I shall do my best," Fisher said. + +Charlie passed instantly to less serious matters, but the critical look +did not pass entirely from Fisher's face. He seemed to be watching for +something, for some card that Charlie did not appear disposed to play. + +Throughout the hard set that followed, his vigilance did not relax; but +Charlie played with all his customary zest. Tennis was to him for the +time being the only thing worth doing on the face of the earth. In his +enthusiasm he speedily stripped off his coat and rolled his sleeves to +the shoulder as if it had been the hottest summer day. + +At the end of the set, which Charlie won, a couple of spectators who had +come up unseen applauded their energy, and Charlie, swinging round in +flushed triumph, raced up for a word with his host and Molly Erie. + +"I can't stuff over a fire all the afternoon," he said. "But the light +is getting bad, isn't it? Fisher and I will have to knock off. Are you +two going for a walk? We'll come, too, if you are, eh, Fisher?" + +He turned towards Fisher, who had come up, and held out his hand for the +other's racquet. + +Molly uttered a sudden startled exclamation. + +"Why, Charlie," she ejaculated, "what have you done to your arm? What is +the matter with it?" + +Charlie jumped at her startled tone and tore down his shirt-sleeve +hastily. + +"An old wound," he said, with a shame-faced laugh. + +She put her gloved hand swiftly on his to stay his operations. + +"No, tell me!" she said. "What is it--really? How was it done?" + +"You will never get him to tell you that," laughed Bertie Richmond. "You +had better ask Fisher." + +"Oh, rats!" cried Charlie vehemently. "Fisher, I'll break your head with +this racquet if you give my show away. Come along! I believe the moon +has contracted a romantic habit of rising over the sea when the sun +sets. Let's go and----" + +"I'll tell you, Molly," broke in Bertie, linking a firm arm in Charlie's +to keep him quiet. "He can't break his host's head, you know. It's a +scald, eh, Charlie? He got it in the engine-room of the _Andover_ one +night in the autumn. You were on board, you know. Help me to hold him, +Fisher! He's getting restive. But I thought you knew all about it, +Molly. You told me so." + +"Oh, I didn't know--this!" the girl said. "How could I? I never +guessed--this!" + +Her three listeners were all surprised by the tragic note in her voice. +There was a momentary silence. Then Charlie made a fierce attempt to +wrest himself free. + +"You infernal idiots!" he exclaimed violently. "Fisher, if you interfere +with me any more I--I'll punch your head! Bertie, don't be such a fool!" + +He shook them off with an angry effort. Fisher laughed quietly. + +"You can't always hide your light, my dear fellow," he observed. "If you +will do impossible things, you will have to put up with the penalty of +being occasionally found out." + +"Silly ass!" commented Bertie. "Anyone would think that to save a few +hundred human lives was a thing to be ashamed of. It was the same thing +in South Africa; always slinking off into the background when the work +was done, till everyone took you for nothing but a looker-on--a chap who +ought to wear the V.C., if ever there was one," he ended, thrusting an +arm through Charlie's, as the latter, having put on his coat, turned +once more towards them. + +"Oh, you are utterly wrong," the boy said forcibly, almost angrily. "If +you judge a man by what he does on impulse you might decorate the +biggest blackguard in the world with the V.C." + +"You're made of impulse, my dear lad," Bertie remarked, walking off with +him. "You're a mass of impulse. That's why you do such idiotic things." + +Charlie yielded, chafing, to the friendly hand. + +"I should like to kick you, Bertie," he said. + +But he went no further than that. Bertie Richmond was his very good +friend, and he was Bertie's. Neither of them was likely to forget that +fact. + + +VIII + +"Oh, Charlie, here you are! I _am_ glad!" + +Molly entered the smoking-room with an air of resolution. She had just +returned from evening church with Fisher. They were late, and the latter +had gone off to dress forthwith. + +But Molly had glanced into the smoking-room, and, seeing Charlie alone +there, as she had half hoped but scarcely expected, she entered. + +Charlie sprang up instantly, his brown face exceedingly alert. + +"Come to the fire!" he said hospitably. + +Molly went, but did not sit down. She stood facing him on the +hearth-rug. Her young face was very troubled. + +"I want to tell you," she said steadily, "how sorry--and grieved--I am +for all the hard things I have said and thought of you. I would like to +retract them all. I was quite wrong. I took you for an idler--a buffoon +almost. I know better now. And I--I should like you to forgive me." + +Her voice suddenly faltered. Her eyes were full of tears she could +neither repress nor conceal. + +Charlie, however, seemed to notice nothing strained in the atmosphere. +He broke into a gay laugh and held out his hand. + +"Oh, that's all right," he said briskly. "Shake hands and forget what +those asses said about me! You were quite right, you know. I am a +buffoon. There isn't an inch of heroism anywhere about me. You took my +measure long ago, didn't you? To change the subject, I'm most awfully +pleased to hear that you and old Fisher have come to an understanding. +Congratulate you most heartily. There's solid worth in that chap. He +goes straight ahead and never plays the fool." + +He looked straight at her as he spoke. Not by the flicker of an eyelid +did he seem to recall the fact that he had once asked on his own behalf +that which he apparently so heartily approved of her bestowing upon +another. + +Yet Molly, torn with remorse over what was irrevocable, did a most +outrageous thing. + +"Charlie!" she cried, with a deep ringing passion that would not be +suppressed. "Why have I been deceived like this? Why didn't you tell me? +How could you let me imagine anything so false?" She flung out her other +hand to him and he took it; but still he laughed. + +"Oh, come, Molly!" he protested. "I did tell you, you know. I told you +the day after it happened. Don't you remember? I had to account for the +skirt." + +She wrenched her hands away from him. The thrill of laughter in his +voice seemed to jar all her nerves. She was, moreover, wearied with the +emotions of the day. + +"Oh, don't you see," she cried passionately, "how different it might +have been? If you had told me--if you had made me understand! I could +have cared--I did care--only you seemed to me--unworthy. How could I +know? What chance had I?" + +She bowed her head suddenly, and burst into a storm of bitter weeping. + +Charlie turned white to his lips. He stood perfectly motionless till the +anguished sobbing goaded him beyond endurance. Then he flung round with +a jerk. + +"Stop, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed harshly. "I can't bear it. It's +too much--too much." + +He moved close to her, his face twitching, and took her shaking +shoulders between his hands. + +"Molly!" he said almost violently. "You don't know what you said just +now. You didn't mean it. It has always been Fisher--always, from the +very beginning." + +She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing +as in passionate despair. + +And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the +smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over +the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time. + +Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken +stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy +had never seen there before--a look that it was impossible to ignore. + +Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room. + +"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly. + +He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers. + +"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired--upset. There is +nothing really the matter." + +But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip. + +"I will talk to you presently," he said. "You clear out!" + +He pushed past Charlie and went straight to the girl. His jaw was set +with a determination that would have astonished most of his friends. + +"What is it, Molly?" he said, halting close beside her. "What is wrong, +child?" + +But Molly could not tell him. She turned towards him indeed, laying an +imploring hand on his arm; but she kept her face hidden and uttered no +word. + +It was Charlie who plunged recklessly into the opening breach--plunged +with a wholesale gallantry, regardless of everything but the moment's +emergency. + +"It's my doing, Fisher," he declared, his voice shaking a little. "I've +been making an ass of myself. It was, partly your fault, too--yours and +Bertie's. Let her go! I'll explain." + +He was excited and he spoke quickly, but his eyes were very steady. + +"Molly," he said, "you go upstairs! You've got to dress, you know, and +you'll be late. I'll make it all right. Don't you worry yourself!" + +Molly lifted a perfectly white face and looked at Fisher. She met his +eyes, struggled with herself a moment, then with quivering lips turned +slowly away. He did not try to stop her. He realised that Charlie must +be disposed of before he attempted to extract an explanation from her. + +Charlie sprang to the door, shut it hastily after her, and turned the +key. + +"Now!" he said, and, wheeling, marched straight back to Fisher and +halted before him. "You want an explanation. You shall have one. You +gave my show away this afternoon. You made her imagine that in taking me +for an ordinary--or perhaps I should say a rather extraordinary--fool +she had done me an injustice. She came in her sweetness and told me she +was sorry. And I--forgot myself, and said things that made her cry. That +is the whole matter." + +"What did you say to her?" demanded Fisher. + +"I'm not going to tell you." + +"You shall tell me!" said Fisher. + +He took a step forward, all the hidden force in him risen to the +surface. + +Charlie faced him for a second with his head flung defiantly back, then, +as Fisher laid a powerful hand on his shoulder, he stuck his hands in +his pockets and smiled a little. + +"No, old chap," he said. "I'll apologise to you, if you like. But you +haven't any right to ask for more." + +"I have a right to know why what you said upset her," Fisher said. + +Charlie shook his head. + +"Not the smallest," he said. "But I should have thought your imagination +might have accomplished that much. Surely you needn't grudge the tears +of pity a woman wastes over a man she has had to disappoint?" + +He spoke with his eyes on Fisher's face. He was not afraid of Fisher, +yet his look of relief was unmistakable as the hand on his shoulder +relaxed. + +"You care for her, then?" Fisher said. + +Charlie flung impetuously away from him. + +"Oh, need we discuss the thing any further?" he said. "I'm on the wrong +side of the hedge, and that's enough. I hope you won't say any more to +her about it. You will only distress her." + +He walked to the end of the room and came slowly back to Fisher, whose +eyes were sternly fixed upon him. He thrust out his hand impulsively. + +"Forgive me, old chap!" he said. "After all, I've got the hardest part." + +Fisher's face softened. + +"I'm sorry, boy," he said, and took the proffered hand. + +"I'll clear out to-morrow," Charlie said. "You'll forget this foolery of +mine?" gripping Fisher's hand hard for a moment. + +Fisher did not answer him. He struck him instead a sounding blow on the +shoulder, and Charlie turned away satisfied. He had played a difficult +game with considerable skill. That it had been a losing game did not at +the moment enter into his calculations. He had not played for his own +stakes. + + +IX + +"Jove! It's a wild night," said Archie Croft comfortably, as he +stretched out his legs to the smoking-room fire. "What's become of +Charlie? He doesn't usually retire early." + +"I don't believe he has retired," said Bertie Richmond sleepily. "I saw +him go out something over an hour ago." + +"Out?" said Croft. "What on earth for?" + +"Up to some fool trick or other, no doubt," said Fisher from the +smoking-room sofa. + +"Hullo, Fisher! I thought you were asleep," said Bertie. "You ought to +be. It's after midnight. Time we all turned in if we mean to start early +with the guns to-morrow." + +Croft stretched himself and rose leisurely. + +"It's a positively murderous night!" he remarked, strolling to the +window. "There must be a tremendous sea." + +He drew aside the blind, staring at the blackness that seemed to press +against the pane. A moment later, with a sharp exclamation, he ripped +back the blind and flung the window wide open. An icy spout of rain and +snow whirled into the room. Richmond turned round to expostulate, but +was met by a face of such wild excitement that his protest remained +unuttered. + +"I saw a rocket!" Croft declared. + +"Oh, rats!" murmured Fisher. + +"It isn't rats!" he said indignantly. "It's a ship down among those +infernal rocks. I'm off to see what's doing." + +"Hi! Wait a minute!" exclaimed his host, starting up. "You are perfectly +certain, are you, Croft? No humbug? I heard no report." + +"Who could hear anything in a gale like this?" returned Croft +impatiently. "Yes, of course, I am certain. Are you coming?" + +"I must send a man on horseback to the life-boat station," said Bertie, +starting towards the door. "It's two miles round the headland. They may +not know there is anything up." + +He was out of the room with the words. The rest of the men in the +smoking-room followed. Fisher remained to shut the window. He stood a +couple of seconds before it, facing the hurricane. The night was like +pitch. The angry roar of the sea half-a-mile away surged up on the +tearing gale like the voice of a devouring monster. He turned away into +the cosy room and followed the others. + +The whole party went out into the raging night. They groped their way +after Bertie to the stables. A groom was dispatched on horseback to the +life-boat station. Lanterns were then procured, and, with the blast full +in their teeth, they fought their way to the shore. + +Here were darkness and desolation unspeakable. The tide was high. Great +waves, flashing white through the darkness, came smiting through the +rocks as if they would rend the very surface of the earth apart. The +clouds scurrying overhead uncovered a star or two and instantly drew +together in impenetrable darkness. + +Down by the sea-wall that protected the little village nestling between +the cliffs and the sea they found a knot of men and women. A short +distance away in the boiling tumult there shone a shifting light, but +between it and the shore the storm-god held undisputed possession. + +"That's her!" explained one of the men to Bertie Richmond. "She's sunk +right down in them rocks, sir. It's a little schooner. I see her masts +a-stickin' up just now." + +The man was one of his own gardeners. He yelled his information into +Bertie's ear with great enjoyment. + +"Have you sent to the lifeboat chaps?" shouted Bertie. + +"Young gentleman went an hour ago," came the answer. "But they are off +on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to +go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o' +rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit +o' eggshell. There's only three chaps aboard as far as we could see +awhile ago. And not a hundred yards off us. But it's a hundred yards of +death, as you might say. No boat could live through it. It ain't worth +the trying." + +A hundred yards of death and only three little human lives to be gained +by the awful risk of braving that hundred yards! + +Bertie turned away, feeling sick, yet silently agreeing. Who could hope +to pass unharmed through that raging darkness, that tossing nightmare of +great waters? Yet the thought of those three lives beating outward in +agony and terror while he and his friends stood helplessly by took him +by the throat. + +Suddenly through a lull of the tempest there came a great shout. + +The clouds had drifted asunder and a few stars shone vaguely down on the +wild scene. The dim light showed the doomed vessel wedged among the +rocks that stuck up, black and threatening, through the racing foam. + +Nearer at hand, huddled on the stout sea-wall, stood the little group of +watchers, their faces all turned outwards towards the two masts of the +little schooner, which remained faintly discernible through the shifting +gloom. + +It was not more than a hundred yards away, Bertie realised. Yet the +impossibility of rescue was as apparent as if it had been a hundred +miles from land. He fancied he could see a couple of figures half-way up +one of the masts, but the light was elusive. He could not be certain of +this. + +Suddenly a hand gripped his elbow, and he found Archie Croft beside him, +yelling excitedly. + +"Don't let him go!" he bawled. "It's madness--sheer madness!" + +Bertie turned sharply. Close to him, his head bare, and clothed still in +evening dress, stood Charlie Cleveland. A coil of rope lay at his feet. +He had knotted one end firmly round his body. + +"Listen, you fellows!" he cried. "I'm going to have a shot at it. Pay +out the rope as I go. Count up to five hundred, and if it is limp, pull +it in again. If it holds, make it fast! Got me?" + +He turned at once to a flight of iron steps that led off the wall down +into the awful, seething water. But someone, Fisher, sprang suddenly +after him and held him back. Charlie wheeled instantly. The light of a +lantern striking on his face revealed it, unafraid, even laughing. + +"You silly ass!" he cried. "Hang on to the rope instead of behaving like +a fellow's grandmother!" + +"You shan't do it!" Fisher said, holding him fast. "It is certain +death!" + +"All right," Charlie yelled back. "I choose death, then. I prefer it to +sitting still and seeing others die. My life is my own. I choose to risk +it." + +He looked at Fisher closely for a moment, then, with one immense effort, +he wrenched himself away. He went leaping down the steps as a boy going +for a summer-morning dip. + +Fisher turned round and met Bertie Richmond hurrying to help him. + +"Let him go!" Fisher said briefly. + +Thereafter came a terrible interval of waiting. The sky was clearing, +but the tempest did not abate. The rope ran out with jerks and pauses. +Fisher stood and counted at the head of the steps, his eyes on the +tumult that had swallowed up the slight active figure of the one man +among them all who had elected to risk his life against those +overwhelming odds. + +"He must be dashed to pieces!" Bertie Richmond gasped to himself, with a +shudder. + +The rope ceased to run. Fisher had counted four hundred and fifty. He +counted on resolutely to five hundred, then turned and raised his hand +to the men who held the coil. They hauled at the rope. It was limp. Hand +over hand they dragged it in through the foam. Fisher peered downwards. +It came so rapidly that he thought it must have parted among the rocks. +Then he saw a dark object bobbing strangely among the waves. He went +down the steps, that quivered and trembled like cardboard under his +feet. + +Clinging to the iron rail, he reached out a hand and guided the rope to +him. A great sea broke over him and nearly swept him off. He saved +himself by hanging with both hands on to the rope. Thus he was dragged +up the steps to safety, and behind him, buffeted, bleeding, helpless, +came two limp bodies lashed fast together. + +They cut the two asunder by the light of the lanterns, and one of them, +Charlie, staggered to his feet. + +"I've got to go back!" he gasped. "You pulled too soon. There are two +others." + +He dashed the blood from his face, seized a pocket flask someone held +out to him, and drained it at a long gulp. + +"That's better!" he said. "That you, Fisher? Good-bye, old chap!" + +The first pale light of a rising moon burst suddenly through the cloud +drift. + +"I'll go myself," Fisher abruptly said. + +Even in that roar of sound they heard the boyish laugh that rang out +upon the words. + +"No, no, no!" shouted Charlie. "Bless you, dear fellow! But this is my +job--alone. You've got to stay behind--you're wanted." + +He stood a few seconds poising himself on the steps, drawing deep +breaths in preparation for the coming struggle. The moonlight smote upon +him. He lifted his face to it, and seemed to hesitate. Then suddenly he +turned to Fisher and laid impetuous hands upon his shoulders. + +"Lookers-on see most of the game," he said. "And I've been one from the +first, though I own I thought at one time I should like to take a hand. +Go on and prosper, old boy! You've played a winning game all along, you +know. You're a better chap than I am, and it's you she really cares +for--always has been. That's how I came to know what I'd got to do. I +find it's easy--thank God!--it's very easy." + +And with that he plunged down again into the breakers. The tide was on +the turn. The worst fury was over. The awful darkness had lifted. + +Those who mutely watched him fancied they heard him laugh as he met the +crested waves. + + +X + +Molly had spent a night of feverish restlessness. It was with a feeling +of relief that she answered a tap that came at her door in the early +dusk of the January morning; but she gave a start of surprise when she +saw Mrs. Langdale enter. + +She started up on her elbow. + +"Oh, what is it? It has been a fearful night. Has something dreadful +happened?" she cried. + +Mrs. Langdale's usually merry face was pale and quiet. She went quickly +to the girl's side and took her hands into a tight clasp. + +"My dear," she said, "Gerald Fisher asked me to come and tell you. There +has been a wreck in the night. A vessel ran on to the rocks. There were +three men on board. They could not reach them with an ordinary boat, and +the life-boat was not available." + +"Go on!" gasped Molly, her eyes on her friend's face. + +Mrs. Langdale went on, with an effort. + +"Charlie Cleveland--dear fellow--went out to them with a rope. He +reached them, brought one safely back, returned for the +others--and--and--" Her voice failed. Her hands tightened upon Molly's; +they were very cold. "He managed to get to them again," she whispered, +"but--the rope wasn't long enough. He unlashed himself and bound them +together. They pulled them ashore--both living. But--he--was lost!" + +The composure suddenly forsook Mrs. Langdale's face. She hid it on +Molly's pillow. + +"Oh, Molly, that darling boy!" she cried, with a burst of tears. "And +they say he went to his death--laughing." + +"He would," Molly said, in a strange voice. "I always knew he would." + +She lay back again. Her face was suddenly pinched and grey, but she felt +not the smallest desire to cry. + +"I wonder why!" she presently said. "How I wonder why!" + +Mrs. Langdale recovered herself with an effort. The frozen voice seemed +to give her strength. + +"Have we any right to ask that?" she whispered. "No one on this side can +ever know." + +"Oh, I think you are wrong," Molly said. "We can't be meant to grope in +outer darkness." + +Mrs. Langdale whispered something about "those the gods love." She was +too broken-down herself to be able to offer any solid comfort. + +After a painful silence she got up and busied herself with reviving +Molly's fire, which had almost gone out. She felt as she had felt only +once before in her life, and that had been ten years previously, when +her only child had died suddenly. She wished passionately that she were +back in Calcutta with her husband. She hated the bleak English winter, +the cruel English seas. + +Molly lay quite still for some time, her young face drawn and stricken. + +At length she got up and went to the window. It was a morning of bleak +winds and shifting clouds. The sea was just visible, very far and dim +and grey. She stood a long while gazing stonily out. + +"Can I get you anything, darling?" said Mrs. Langdale's voice softly +behind her. + +"No, thank you," the girl said, without turning. "Please leave me; +that's all!" + +And Mrs. Langdale crept away through the hushed house to her own +apartment, there to lay down her head and cry herself exhausted. Dear, +gallant Charlie! Her heart ached for him. His irrepressible gaiety, his +reckless generosity, these had become the attributes of a hero for ever +in her eyes. + +After a while her hostess came to her, pale and tearful, to beg her, if +she possibly could, to show herself at the breakfast table. Captain +Fisher had repeatedly asked for her, she said; and he seemed very +uneasy. + +Mrs. Langdale rose, washed her face, and made an effort to powder away +the evidence of her grief. Then she went bravely down and faced the +silent crowd in the breakfast room. No one was eating anything. The very +air smote chill and cheerless as she entered. As if he had been lying in +wait for her, Fisher pounced upon her on the threshold. + +"I must speak to you for a moment," he said. "Come into the +smoking-room!" + +Mrs. Langdale accompanied him without a word. + +"How is she?" he demanded, almost before they entered. "How did she take +it?" + +There was something about Fisher just then with which Mrs. Langdale was +wholly unacquainted. He was alert, impatient, almost feverish. She +answered him with brevity. + +"I think she is stunned by the news." + +He began to pace to and fro with heavy restlessness. + +"Ask her to come to me if she is up!" he said at length. "Tell her--tell +her not to be afraid! Say I am waiting for her. I must see her." + +Mrs. Langdale hesitated. + +"She asked me to leave her alone," she said irresolutely. + +Fisher wheeled swiftly round. + +"I don't think she will refuse to see me," he said. "At least try!" + +There was entreaty in his voice, urgent entreaty, which Mrs. Langdale +found herself unable to withstand. + +She departed therefore on her thankless errand and Fisher flung himself +down at the table with his face buried in his hands. In this room but a +few short hours ago Charlie had faced and turned away his anger with all +the courage and sweetness which, combined, had made of him the hero he +was. + +It seemed to Fisher, looking back upon the interview, that the boy had +done a braver thing, had offered a sacrifice more splendid, there, in +that room, than any he had done or offered a little later down on the +howling shore. + +There came a slight sound at the door and Fisher jerked himself upright. +Molly had entered softly. She was standing, looking at him with a +strange species of wonder on her white face. He rose instantly and went +to meet her. + +"I have something to give you, Molly," he said. She raised her eyes +questioningly. + +"It was brought to me," he said, controlling his voice to quietness with +a strong effort, "after Mrs. Langdale went to tell you of--what had +happened. I wish to give it to you myself. And--afterwards to ask you a +question." + +"What is it?" Molly asked, with a sudden sharp eagerness. + +"A note," Fisher said, and gave her a folded paper. "It was found on his +dressing-table, addressed to you. His servant brought it to me." + +Molly's hand trembled as she took the missive. + +Fisher turned away from her, and stood before the window in dead +silence. There was a long, quiet pause. Then a sudden sound made him +swing swiftly round and stride to the door to turn the key. The next +moment he was stooping over Molly, who had sunk down on the hearth-rug +and was sobbing terrible, anguished sobs. + +He lifted her to a chair with no fuss of words, and knelt beside her, +stroking her hair, comforting her, with something of a woman's +tenderness. + +Molly suffered him passively, and the first wild agony of her trouble +spent itself unrestrained on his shoulder. Then she grew calmer, and +presently begged him in a whisper to read the message which Charlie had +left behind him. + +For a moment Fisher hesitated; then, as she repeated her desire, he took +up the scrawl and deliberately read it through. It had evidently been +written immediately after his interview with the writer. + + "Dear Molly," the note said, "It's all right with Fisher, so + don't you worry yourself! I clear out to-morrow, so that there + may be no awkwardness, but we haven't quarrelled, he and I. + Forget all about this business! It's been a mistake from start + to finish. I ought to have known that I was only fit to be a + looker-on when I fell at the first fence. You put your money on + Fisher and you'll never lose a halfpenny! I'm nothing but a + humble spectator, and I wish you--and him also--the best of + luck. If I might be permitted, to offer a little, serious, + fatherly advice, it would be this: + + "Don't let yourself get dazzled by the outside shine of any + man's actions! A man isn't necessarily a hero because he + doesn't run away. It is the true-hearted, steady-going chaps + like Fisher who keep the world wagging. They are the solid + material. The others are only a sort of trimming stuck on for + effect and torn off when the time comes for something new. So + marry the man you love, Molly, and forget that anyone else ever + made a fool of himself for your sweet sake! + + "Your friend for ever, + + "Charlie." + +Thus ended, with a simplicity sublime, the few words of fatherly advice +which as a legacy this boy had left behind him. + +Fisher laid the note reverently aside and spoke with a great gentleness. + +"Tell me, dear," he said, "will it make it any easier for you if I go +away? If so--you have only to say so." + +The words cost him greater resolution than any he had ever uttered. Yet +he said them without apparent effort. + +Molly did not answer him for many seconds. Her head drooped a little +lower. + +"I have been--dazzled," she said at last, and there was a piteous quiver +in her voice. "I do not know if I shall ever make you understand." + +"You need never attempt it, Molly," he answered very steadily. "I make +no claim upon you. Simply, I am yours to keep or to throw away. Which +are you going to do?" + +He paused for her answer. But she made none. Only in her trouble it +seemed to him that she clung to his support. + +He drew her a little closer to him. + +"Molly," he said very tenderly, "do you want me, child? Shall I stay?" + +And at length she answered him, realising that it was to this man, hero +or no hero, she had given her heart. + +"Yes, stay, Gerald!" she whispered earnestly. "I want you." + + * * * + +Perhaps he understood her better than she thought. Perhaps Charlie's +last words to him had taught him a wisdom to which he had not otherwise +attained. Or perhaps his love was large enough to cover and hide all +that might be lacking in that which she offered to him. + +But at least neither then nor later did he ever seek to know how deeply +the glamour of another man's heroism had pierced her heart. She tried to +whisper an explanation, but he hushed the words unuttered. + +"It is all right, child," he said. "I am satisfied. It is only the +lookers-on who are allowed to see all the cards. I think when we meet +him again he will tell us that we played them right." + +There was a deep quiver in his voice as he spoke, but there was no lack +of confidence in his words. Looking upwards, Molly saw that his eyes +were full of tears. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE SECOND FIDDLE + + +A low whistle floated through the slumbrous silence and died softly away +among the sand-dunes. + +The man who sat in the little wooden summer-house that faced the sea +raised his head from his hand and stared outwards. The signal had +scarcely penetrated to his inner consciousness, but it had vaguely +disturbed his train of thought. His eyes were dull and emotionless as he +stared across the blue, smiling water to the long, straight line of the +horizon. They were heavy also as if he had not slept for weeks, and +there were deep lines about his clean-shaven mouth. + +Before him on the rough, wooden table lay a letter--a letter that he +knew by heart, yet carried always with him. The writing upon it was firm +and regular, but unmistakably a woman's. It began: "Dear Hugh," and it +ended: "Yours very sincerely," and it had been written to tell him that +because he was crippled for life the writer could no longer entertain +the idea of sharing hers with him. + +There had been a ring enclosed with the letter, but this he had not +kept. He had dropped it into the heart of a blazing fire on the day +that he had first been able to move without assistance. He had not done +it in anger. Simply the consciousness of possessing it had been a pain +intolerable to him. So he had destroyed it; but the letter he had kept +through all the dreary months that had followed that awful time. It was +all that was left to him of one whom he had loved passionately, blindly, +foolishly, and who had ceased to love him on the day, now nearly a year +ago, when his friends had ceased to call him by the nickname of +Hercules, that had been his from his boyhood. + +And this was her wedding-day--a day of entrancing sunshine, of magic +breezes, of perfect June. + +He was picturing her to himself as he sat there, just as he had pictured +her often--ah, often--in the old days. + +From his place near the altar he watched her coming towards him up the +great, white-decked church. Her eyes were shining with unclouded +happiness. Behind her bridal veil he caught a glimpse of the exquisite +beauty that chained his heart. Straight towards him the vision moved, +and he--he braced himself to meet it. + +A sharp pang of physical pain suddenly wrung his nerves, and in a moment +the vision had passed from his eyes. He groaned and once more covered +his face. Yes, it was her wedding-day. She was there before the altar in +all the splendour of her youth and her loveliness. But he was alone +with his suffering, his broken life, and the long, long, empty years +stretching away before him. + +He awoke to the soft splashing of the summer tide, out beyond the +sand-dunes, and he heard again the clear, low whistle which before had +disturbed his dream. + +He remained motionless, and a dim, detached wonder crossed his mind. He +had thought himself quite alone. + +Again the whistle sounded. It seemed to come from immediately below him. +Slowly and painfully he raised himself. + +The next instant an enormous Newfoundland dog rushed panting into his +retreat and proceeded to search every inch of the place with violent +haste. The man on the bench sat still and watched him, but when the +animal with a sudden, clumsy movement knocked his crutches on to the +floor and out of his reach, he uttered an exclamation of annoyance. + +The dog gave him a startled glance and continued his headlong +investigation. He was very wet, and he left a trail of sea water +wherever he went. Finally he bounded out as hurriedly as he had entered, +and Hugh Durant was left a prisoner, the nearest of his crutches a full +yard away. + +He sat and stared at them with a heavy frown. His helplessness always +oppressed him far more than the pain he had to endure. He cursed the dog +under his breath. + +"Oh, I am sorry!" a voice said suddenly some seconds later. "Let me get +them for you!" + +Durant looked round sharply. A brown-faced girl in a short, cotton dress +stood in the doorway. Her head was bare and covered with short, black, +curly hair that shone wet in the sunshine. Her eyes were very blue. For +some reason she looked rather ashamed of herself. + +She moved forward barefooted and picked up Durant's crutches. + +"I'm sorry, sir," she said again. "I didn't know there was any one here +till I heard Cæsar knock something down." + +She dusted the tops of the crutches with her sleeve and propped them +against the table. + +"Thanks!" said Durant curtly. He was not feeling sociable--he could not +feel sociable--on that day of all days in his life's record. + +Yet, as if attracted by something, the girl lingered. + +"It's lovely down on the shore," she said half shyly. + +"No doubt," said Durant, and again his tone was curt to churlishness. + +Then abruptly he felt that he had been unnecessarily surly, and wondered +if he was getting querulous. + +"Been bathing?" he asked, with a brief glance at her wet hair. + +She gave him a quick, friendly smile. + +"Yes, sir," she said; and added: "Cæsar and I." + +"Fond of the sea, eh?" said Durant. + +The soft eyes shone, and the man, who had been a sailor, told himself +that they were deep-sea eyes. + +"I love it," the girl said very earnestly. + +Her intensity surprised him a little. He had not expected it in one who, +to judge by her dress, must be a child of the humble fisher-folk. His +interest began to awaken. + +"You live near here?" he questioned. + +She pointed a brown hand towards the sand-dunes. + +"On the shore, sir," she said. "We hear the waves all night." + +"So do I," said Durant, and his voice was suddenly sharp with a pain he +could not try to silence. "All night and all day." + +She did not seem to notice his tone. + +"You live in the cottage on the cliff?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"I came last week," he said. "I hadn't seen the sea for nearly a year. I +wanted to be alone. And--so I am." + +"All alone?" she queried quickly. + +He nodded again. + +"With my servant," he said. He repeated with a certain doggedness: "I +wanted to be alone." + +There was a pause. The girl was standing in the doorway. Her dog was +basking in the sunshine not a yard away. She looked at the cripple with +thoughtful eyes. + +"I live alone, too," she said. "That is--Cæsar and I." + +That successfully aroused Durant's curiosity. + +"You!" he said incredulously. + +She put up her hand with a quick movement and pushed the short curls +back from her forehead. + +"I am used to it," she said, with an odd womanly dignity. "I have been +practically alone all my life." + +Durant looked at her closely. She spoke in a very low voice, but there +were rich notes in it that caught his attention. + +"Isn't that very unusual for a girl of your age?" he said. + +She smiled again without answering. A blue sunbonnet dangled on her arm. +In the silence that followed she put it on. The great dog arose at the +action, stretched himself, and went to her side. She laid her hand on +his head. + +"We play hide-and-seek, Cæsar and I," she said, "among the dunes." + +Durant took his crutches and stumbled with difficulty to his feet. The +lower part of his body was terribly crippled and weak. Only the broad +shoulders of the man testified to the splendid strength that had once +been his, and could never be his again as long as he lived. He saw the +girl turn her head aside as he moved. The sunbonnet completely hid her +face. A sharp spasm of pain set his own like a stone mask. + +Suddenly she looked round. + +"Will you--will you come and see me some day?" she asked him shyly. + +Her tone was rather of request than invitation, and Durant was curiously +touched. He had a feeling that she awaited his reply with eagerness. + +He smiled for the first time. + +"With pleasure," he said courteously, "if the path is easy and the +distance not too great for my powers." + +"It is quite close," she said readily, "hardly a stone's throw from +here--a little wooden cottage--the first you come to." + +"And you live quite alone?" Durant said. + +"I like it best," she assured him. + +"Will you tell me your name?" he asked. + +"My name is Molly," she answered quietly. + +"Nothing else?" said Durant with a puzzled frown. + +"Nothing else, sir," she said, with her air of womanly dignity. + +He made no outward comment, but inwardly he wondered. Was this odd +little, dark-haired creature some nameless waif of the sea brought up on +the charity of the fisher-folk, he asked himself. + +She stood aside for him to pass, drawing Cæsar out of his way. He +stopped a moment to pat the dog's head. And so standing, leaning upon +his crutches, he suddenly and keenly looked into the olive-tinted face +that the sunbonnet shadowed. + +"Sorry for me, eh?" he said, and he uttered a laugh that was short and +very bitter. + +She bent down over the dog. + +"Yes, I am sorry," she said, almost under her breath. + +Bending lower, she picked up something that lay on the ground between +them. + +"You dropped this," she said. + +He took it from her with a grim hardening of the mouth. It was the +letter he had received from his _fiancée_ a year ago. But his eyes never +left the face of the girl before him. + +"I wonder--" he said abruptly, and stopped. + +There was a pause. The girl waited, her hand nervously caressing the +Newfoundland's curls. She did not raise her eyes, but the lids fluttered +strangely. + +"I wonder," Durant said, and his voice was suddenly kind, "if I might +ask you to do something for me." + +She gave him a swift glance. + +"Please do!" she murmured. + +"This letter," he said, and he held it out to her. + +"I should like it torn up--very small." + +She took the envelope and hesitated. Durant was watching her. There was +unmistakable mastery in his eyes. + +"Go on!" he said briefly. + +And with a quick, startled movement, she obeyed. The letter fluttered +around them both in tiny fragments. Hugh Durant looked on with a hard, +impassive face, as he might have looked on at an execution. + +The girl's hands were shaking. She glanced at him once or twice +uncertainly. + +When the work of destruction was accomplished she made him a nervous +curtsey and turned to go. + +Durant's face softened a second time into a smile. + +"Thank you--Molly," he said, and he put his hand to his hat though she +was not looking at him. + +And afterwards he stood among the fragments of his letter and watched +till both the girl and the dog were out of sight. + +Twenty-four hours later Hugh Durant stood on the sandy shore and tapped +with his crutch on the large, flat stone that was set for a step on the +threshold of the little, wooden cottage behind the sand dunes. + +He had reached the place with much difficulty, persevering with a +doggedness characteristic of him; and there were great drops on his +forehead though the afternoon was cloudy and cool. + +A quick step sounded in answer to his summons, and in a moment his +hostess appeared at the open door. + +"Why didn't you come straight in?" she said hospitably. + +She was dressed in lilac print. Her sleeves were turned up to the +elbows, and she wore a big apron with a bib. He noticed that her feet +were no longer bare. + +He took off his hat as he answered. + +"Perhaps I might have been tempted to do so," he said, "if I had felt +equal to mounting the step without assistance." + +"Oh!" She pulled down her sleeves hastily. "Will you let me help you?" +she suggested shyly. + +Durant's eyes were slightly drawn with pain. Nevertheless they were very +friendly as he made reply. + +"Do you think you can?" he said. + +She took his hat from him with an anxious smile, and then the crutch +that he held towards her. + +"Tell me exactly what to do!" she said in her sweet, low voice. "I am +very strong." + +"If I may put my arm on your shoulder," Durant said, "I think it can be +managed. But say at once if it is too much for you!" + +Her face was deeply flushed as she bent from the step to give him the +help he needed. + +"Bear harder!" she said, as he leant his weight upon her. "Bear much +harder!" + +There was an odd little quiver in her voice, but, slight as she was, she +supported him with sturdy strength. + +The door opened straight into the tiny cottage parlour. A large wicker +chair, well cushioned, stood in readiness. As Durant lowered himself +into it, he saw that the girl's eyes were brimming with tears. + +"I've hurt you!" he exclaimed. + +"No, no!" she said, and turned quickly away. "You didn't bear nearly +hard enough." + +He laughed a little, though his teeth were clenched. + +"You're a very strong woman, Molly," he said. + +"Oh, I am," she answered instantly. "Now shall you be all right while I +go to fetch tea?" + +"Of course," he said. "Pray don't make a stranger of me!" + +She disappeared into the room at the back of the cottage, and he was +left alone. The great dog came in with stately stride and lay down at +his feet. + +Durant sat and looked about him. There was little to attract the eye in +the simple furnishing of the tiny room. There was a small bookcase in +one corner, but it was covered by a red curtain. Two old-fashioned Dutch +figures stood on the mantelpiece on each side of a cheap little clock +that seemed to tick at him almost resentfully. The walls were tinted +green and bore no pictures or decoration of any sort. There was a plain +white tablecloth on the table, and in the middle stood a handleless jug +filled with pink and white wild roses, freshly gathered. There was no +carpet. The floor was strewn with beach sand. + +All these details Durant took in with keen interest. Nothing could have +exceeded the simplicity of this dwelling by the sea. There had obviously +been no attempt at artistic arrangement. Cleanliness and a neatness +almost severe were its only characteristics. + +"I hope you like toasted scones, sir," said Molly's voice in the +doorway. + +He looked round to see her come forward with the tea-tray. + +"Nothing better," he said lightly, "particularly if you have made them +yourself." + +She set down her tray and smiled at him. Her short, curling hair gave +her an almost elfish look. + +"I've been so busy getting ready," she said childishly. "I've never had +a gentleman to tea before." + +"That is a very great honour for me," said Durant. + +Molly looked delighted. + +"I think the honour is mine," she said in her shy voice. "I am just +going to fetch the wooden chair out of the kitchen." + +She departed hastily as if embarrassed, and Durant smiled to himself. It +was wonderful how the oppression had been lifted from his spirit since +his meeting with this lonely dweller on the shore. + +When Molly reappeared, he saw that she had assumed a dignity worthy of +the occasion. She sat down behind the brown teapot with a serious face. +He waited for her to lead the conversation, and the result was complete +silence for some seconds. + +Then she said suddenly: + +"Have you been sitting in the summer-house again?" + +"No," said Durant. + +"I am glad of that," said Molly. + +"Why?" he asked. + +She hesitated. + +"Isn't it rather a lonely place?" she said. + +He smiled faintly. + +"You know I came here to be lonely, Molly," he said. + +"Yes; you told me," said Molly, and he fancied that he heard her sigh. + +"Are you never lonely?" he asked in a kindly tone. + +"Often," she said. "Often." + +She was pouring the tea as she spoke. Her head was slightly bent. + +"And so you took pity on me?" said Durant. + +She shook her head suddenly and vigorously. + +"It wasn't that, sir," she said in a very low voice. "I--I +wanted--someone--to speak to." + +"I see," said Durant gently. He added after a moment: "Do you know, I am +glad I chanced to be that someone." + +She smiled at him over the teapot. + +"You weren't pleased--at first," she said. "You were angry. I heard you +saying--" + +"What?" said Durant. + +He looked across at her and laughed naturally, spontaneously, for the +first time. + +Molly had forgotten to be either embarrassed or dignified. + +"I don't know what it was," she said; "I only know what it sounded +like." + +"And that made you want to speak to me?" said Durant. + +The brown face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that +there was sadness in her eyes. + +"It didn't frighten me away," she said. + +"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now," +said Hugh Durant quietly. + +She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest. +Then, changing her mind, she remained silent. + +"Yes," he said. "Please say it!" + +She shook her head without speaking. + +But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity. + +"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked. + +She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side, +looking down at him. + +"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically. + +He laughed rather drearily. + +"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said. + +And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly +turned the conversation. + +Later, when he took his leave, he stood on her step and looked out to +the long, grey line of sea with a faint, dissatisfied frown on his face. + +"You're not afraid--living here?" he asked her at the last moment. + +"What is there to fear?" said Molly. "I have Cæsar, and there are other +cottages not far away." + +"Yes, I know," he said. "But at night--when it's dark--" + +A sudden glory shone in the girl's pure eyes. + +"Oh, no, sir," she said. "I am not afraid." + +And he departed, hobbling with difficulty up the long, sandy slope. + +At the top he paused and looked out over the grey, unquiet sea. The +dissatisfaction on his face had given place to perplexity and a faint, +dawning wonder that was like the birth of Hope. + + * * * + +During the long summer days that followed, that strange friendship, +begun at the moment when Hugh Durant's life had touched its lowest point +of suffering and misery, ripened into a curiously close intimacy. + +The girl was his only visitor--the only friend who penetrated behind the +barrier of loneliness that he had erected for himself. He had sought the +place sick at heart and utterly weary of life, desiring only to be left +alone. And yet, oddly enough, he did not resent the intrusion of this +outsider, who had openly told him that she was sorry. + +She visited him occasionally at his hermitage, but more frequently she +would seek him out in his summer-house and take possession of him there +with a winning enchantment that he made no effort to resist. Sometimes +she brought him tea there; sometimes she persuaded him to return with +her to her cottage on the shore. + +The embarrassment had wholly passed from her manner. She was eager and +ingenuous as a child. And yet there was something in her--a depth of +feeling, a concentration half-revealed--that made him aware of her +womanhood. She was never confidential with him, but yet he felt her +confidence in every word she uttered. + +And the life that had ebbed so low turned in the man's veins and began +to flow with a steady, rising surge of which he was only vaguely +conscious. + +Molly had become his keenest interest. He had ceased to think with +actual pain of the woman who had loved his strength, but had shrunk in +horror from his weakness. His bitterness had seemed to disperse with the +fragments of her torn letter. It was only a memory to him now--scarcely +even that. + +"This place has done me a lot of good," he said to Molly one day. "I +have written to my friend Gregory Mountfort to come and see me. He is my +doctor." + +She looked up at him quickly. She was sitting on her doorstep and the +August sunlight was on her hair. There were wonderful glints of gold +among the dark curls. + +"Shall you go away, then?" she asked. + +"I may--soon," he said. + +She was silent, bending over some work that she had taken up. The man +looked down at the bowed head. The old look of perplexity, of wonder, +was in his eyes. + +"What shall you do?" he said abruptly. + +She made a startled movement, but did not raise her eyes. + +"I shall just--go on," she said, in a voice that was hardly audible. + +"Not here," he said. "You will be lonely." + +There was an unusual note of mastery in his voice. She glanced up, and +met his eyes resolutely for a moment. + +"I am used to loneliness," she said slowly. + +"But you don't prefer it?" he said. + +She bent her head again. + +"Yes, I prefer it," she said. + +There followed a pause. Then abruptly Durant asked a question. + +"Are you still sorry for me?" he said. + +"No," said Molly. + +He bent slightly towards her. Movement had become much easier to him of +late. + +"Molly," he said very gently, "that is the kindest thing you have ever +said." + +She laughed in a queer, shaky note over her work. + +He bent nearer. + +"You have done a tremendous lot for me," he said, speaking very softly. +"I wonder if I dare ask of you--one thing more?" + +She did not answer. He put his hand on her shoulder. + +"Molly," he said, "will you marry me?" + +"No," said Molly under her breath. + +"Ah!" he said. "Forgive me for asking!" + +She looked up at him then with that in her eyes which he could not +understand. + +"Mr. Durant," she said, steadily, "I thank you very much, and it +isn't--that. But I can only be your friend." + +"Never anything more, Molly?" he said, and he smiled at her, very +gently, very kindly, but without tenderness. + +"No, sir," Molly said in the same steady tone. "Never anything more." + + * * * + +"Well," said Gregory Mountfort on the following day, "this place has +done wonders for you, Hugh. You're a different man." + +"I believe I am," said Hugh. + +He spoke with his eyes upon a bouquet of poppies and corn that had been +left at his door without any message early that morning. It was eloquent +to him of a friendship that did not mean to be lightly extinguished, but +his heart was heavy notwithstanding. He had begun to desire something +greater than friendship. + +"Physically," said Mountfort, "you are stronger than I ever expected to +see you again. You don't suffer much pain now, do you?" + +"No, not much," said Durant. + +He turned to stare out of his open window at the sunlit sea. His eyes +were full of weariness. + +"Look here," the doctor said. "You're not an invalid any longer. I +should leave this place if I were you. Go abroad! Go round the world! +Don't stagnate any longer! It isn't worthy of you." + +Hugh Durant shook his head. + +"It's no good trying to float a stranded hulk, dear fellow," he said. +"Don't attempt it! I am better off where I am." + +"You ought to get married," his friend returned brusquely. "You weren't +created for the lonely life." + +"I shall never marry," Durant said quietly. + +And Mountfort was disappointed. He wondered if he were still vexing his +soul over the irrevocable. + +He had motored down from town, and in the afternoon he carried his +patient off for a thirty-mile spin. They went through the depths of the +country, through tiny villages hidden among the hills, through long +stretches of pine woods, over heather-covered uplands. But though it did +him good, Durant was conscious of keenest pleasure when, returning, they +ran into view of the sea. He felt that the shore and the sand-dunes were +his own peculiar heritage. + +Mountfort steered for the village scattered over the top of the cliff. +Durant had persuaded him to remain for the night, and he had to send a +telegram. They puffed up a steep, winding hill to the post-office, and +the doctor got out. + +"Back in thirty seconds," he said, as he walked away. + +Hugh was in no hurry. It was a wonderfully calm evening. The sea looked +like a sheet of silver, motionless, silent, immense. The tide was very +low. The sand-dunes looked mere hummocks from that great height. Myriads +of martens were circling about the edge of the cliff, which was +protected by a crazy wooden railing. He sat and watched them without +much interest. He was thinking chiefly of that one cottage on the shore +a hundred feet below, which he knew so well. + +He wondered if Molly had been to the summer-house to look for him; and +then, chancing to glance up, he caught sight of her coming towards him +from the roadside. At the same instant something jerked in the motor, +and it began to move. It was facing up the hill, and the angle was a +steep one. Very slowly at first the wheels revolved, and the car moved +straight backwards as if pushed by an unseen hand. + +Hugh realised the danger in a moment. The road curved sharply not a +dozen yards behind him, and at that curve was the sheer precipice of the +cliff. He was powerless to apply the brakes, and he could not even throw +himself out. The sudden consciousness of this ran through him piercing +as a sword-blade. + +In every pulse of his being he felt the intense, the paralysing horror +of violent death. For the first awful moment he could not even call for +help. The sensation of falling headlong backwards gripped his throat +and choked his utterance. + +He made a wild, ineffectual movement with his hands. And then he heard a +loud cry. A woman's figure flashed towards him. She seemed to swoop as +the martens swooped along the face of the cliff. The car was running +smoothly towards that awful edge. He felt that it was very +near--horribly near; but he could not turn to look. + +Even as the thought darted through his brain he saw Molly, wide-eyed, +frenzied, clinging to the side of the car. She was in the act of +springing on to it, and that knowledge loosened his tongue. + +He yelled to her hoarsely to keep away. He even tried to thrust her +hands off the woodwork. But she withstood him fiercely, with a strength +that agonised and overcame. In a second she was on the step, where she +swayed perilously, then fell forward on her hands and knees at his feet. + +The car continued to run back. There came a sudden jerk, a crash of +rending wood, a frightful pause. The railing had splintered. They were +on the brink. Hugh bent and tried to take her in his arms. + +He was strung to meet that awful plunge; he was face to face with death; +but--was it by some miracle?--the car was stayed. There, on the very +edge of destruction, with not an inch to spare, it stood suddenly +motionless, as if checked by some mysterious, unseen force. + +As complete understanding returned to him, Hugh saw that the woman at +his feet had thrown herself upon the foot brake and was holding it +pressed down with both her rigid hands. + + * * * + +"Yes; but who taught her where to look for the brake?" said Mountfort +two hours later. + +The excitement was over, but the subject fascinated Mountfort. The girl +had sprung away and disappeared down one of the cliff paths directly +Hugh had been extricated from danger. Mountfort was curious about her, +but Hugh was uncommunicative. He had no answer ready to Mountfort's +question. He scarcely seemed to hear it. + +Barely a minute after its utterance he reached for his crutches and got +upon his feet. + +"I am going down to the shore," he said. "I shan't sleep otherwise. +You'll excuse me, old fellow?" + +Mountfort looked at him and nodded. He was very intimate with Hugh. + +"Don't mind me!" he said. + +And Hugh went out alone in the summer dusk. + +The night was almost ghostly in its stillness. He went down the winding +path that he knew so well without a halt. Far away the light of a +steamer travelled over the quiet water. The sea murmured drowsily as the +tide rose. It was not quite dark. + +Outside her cottage-door he stopped and tapped upon the stone. The door +stood open, and as he waited he heard a clear, low whistle behind him on +the dunes. She was coming towards him, the great dog Cæsar bounding by +her side. As she drew near he noticed again how slight she was, and +marvelled at her strength. + +She reached him in silence. The light was very dim. He put out his hand +to her, but somehow he could not utter a word. + +"I knew it must be you," she said. "I--I was waiting for you." + +She put her hand into his; but still the man stood mute. No words would +come to him. + +She looked at him uncertainly, almost nervously. Then-- + +"What is it?" she asked, under her breath. + +He spoke at last but not to utter the words she expected. + +"I haven't come to say, 'Thank you,' Molly," he said. "I have come to +ask why." + +"Oh!" said Molly. + +She was startled, confused, almost scared, by the mastery that underlay +the gentleness of his tone. He kept her hand in his, standing there, +facing her in the dimness; and, cripple as he was, she knew him for a +strong man. + +"I have come to ask," he said--"and I mean to know--why yesterday you +refused to marry me." + +She made a quick movement. His words astounded her. She felt inclined to +run away. But he kept her prisoner. + +"Don't be afraid of me, Molly!" he said half sadly. "You had a reason. +What was it." + +She bit her lip. Her eyes were full of sudden tears. + +"Tell me!" he said. + +And she answered, as if he compelled her: + +"It was because--because you don't love me," she said with difficulty. + +She felt his hand tighten upon hers. + +"Ah!" he said. "And that was--the only reason?" + +Molly was trembling. + +"It was the only reason that mattered," she said in a choked voice. + +He leant towards her in the dusk. + +"Molly," he said. "Molly, I worship you!" + +She heard the deep quiver in his voice, and it thrilled her from head to +foot. She began to sob, and he drew her towards him. + +"Wait!" she said, "Oh, wait! Come inside, and I'll tell you!" + +He went in with her, leaning on her shoulder. + +"Sit down!" whispered Molly. "I'm going to tell you something." + +"Don't cry!" he said gently. "It may be something I know already." + +"Oh, no, it isn't!" she said with conviction. + +She stood before him in the twilight, her hands clasped tightly +together. + +"Do you remember a girl called Mary Fielding?" she said, with a piteous +effort to control her voice. "She used to be the friend of--of--your +_fiancée_, Lady Maud Belville, long ago, before you had your accident." + +He nodded gravely. + +"I remember her," he said. + +"I don't suppose you ever noticed her much," the girl continued shakily. +"She was uninteresting, and always in the background." + +"I should know her anywhere," said Durant with confidence. + +"No, no," she protested. "I'm sure you wouldn't. You--you never gave her +a second thought, though she--was foolish enough--idiotic enough--to--to +care whether you did or not." + +"Was she?" he said softly. "Was she? And was that why she came to live +among the sand-dunes and cut off her hair and wore print +dresses--and--and made life taste sweet to me again?" + +"Ah! You know now!" she said, with a sound that was like laughter +through tears. + +He held out his arms to her. + +"My darling," he said. "I knew on the first day I saw you here." + +She knelt down beside him with a quick, impulsive movement. + +"You--knew!" she gasped incredulously. + +He smiled at her with great tenderness. + +"I knew," he said, "and I wondered--how I wondered--what you had come +for!" + +"I only came to be a friend," she broke in hastily, "to--to try to help +you through your bad time." + +"I guessed it must be that," he said softly over her bowed head, "when +you said 'No' to me yesterday." + +"But you didn't tell me you cared," protested Molly. + +"No," he said. "I was so horribly afraid that you might take me out of +pity, Molly." + +"And I--I wasn't going to be second fiddle!" said Molly waywardly. + +She resisted him a little as he turned her face upwards, but he had his +way. There was a quiver of laughter in his voice when he spoke again. + +"You could never be that," he said. "You were made to lead the +orchestra. Still, tell me why you did it, darling! Make me understand!" + +And Molly yielded at length with her arms about his neck. + +"I loved you!" she said passionately. "I loved you!" + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM + +PROLOGUE + + +It was growing very dark. The decks gleamed wet in the light of the +swinging lamps. The wind howled across the sea like a monster in +torment. It would be a fearful night. + +The man who stood clutching at the slanting deck rail was drenched from +head to foot, but, despite this fact, he had no thought of going below. +Reginald Carey had been for many voyages on many seas, but the +fascination of a storm in the bay attracted him irresistibly still. He +had no sympathy with the uneasy crowd in the saloons. He even exulted in +the wild tumult of wind and sea and blinding rain. He was as one +spellbound in the grip of the tempest. + +Curt and dry of speech, abrupt at times almost to rudeness, he was a man +of whom most people stood in awe, and with whom very few were on terms +of intimacy. Yet in the world of men he had made his mark. + +By camp-fires and on the march, in prison and in hospital, Carey the +journalist had become a byword for coolness and endurance. It was +Carey, caustic of humour, uncompromising of attitude, who sauntered +through a hail of bullets to fill a wounded man's water-tin; Carey who +pushed his way among stampeding mules to rescue sorely needed medical +stores; Carey who had limped beside footsore, jaded men, and whistled +them out of their depression. + +There were two fingers missing from Carey's left hand, and the limp had +become permanent when he sailed home from South Africa at the end of the +war, but he was the personal friend of half the army though there was +not a single man who could boast that he knew him thoroughly well. For +none knew exactly what this man, who scoffed so freely at disaster, +carried in his heart. + +As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel, gazing steadfastly into +the howling darkness, his face was as serene as if he sailed a summer +sea. The great waves that dashed their foam over him as he stood were +powerless to raise fear in his soul! He stood as one apart--a lonely +watcher whom no danger could appal. + +It was growing late, but he took no count of time. More than once he had +been hoarsely advised to go below, but he would not go. He believed +himself to be the only passenger on deck, and he clung to his solitude. +The bare thought of the stuffy saloon was abhorrent to him. He marvelled +that no one else had developed the same distaste. + +And with the thought he turned, breathless from the buffeting spray of a +mighty wave, to find a woman standing near him on the swirling deck. + +She stood poised lightly as a bird prepared for flight, her head bare, +her face upturned to the storm. Her hands were fast gripped upon the +rail, and the gleam of a gold ring caught Carey's eye. He saw that she +was unconscious of his presence. The shifting, uncertain light had not +revealed him. For a space he stood watching her, unperceived, wondering +at the courage that upheld her. Her hair had blown loose in the wind, +and lay in a black mass upon her neck. He could not see her features, +but her bearing was superb. + +And then at length, as if his quiet scrutiny had somehow touched in her +a responsive chord, she turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and +a curious thrill ran tingling through the man's veins. He had never seen +this woman before, but as she looked at him, with wonderful dark eyes +that seemed to hold a passionate exultation in their depths, he suddenly +felt as if he had known her all his life. They were comrades. It was no +hysterical panic that had driven her up from below. Like himself, she +had been drawn by the magic of the storm. + +Impulsively, almost involuntarily, he moved a pace towards her and +stretched out a hand along the dripping rail. + +She gave him her own instantly and confidently, responding to his +action with absolute simplicity. It was a gesture of sympathy, of +fellowship. She bore herself as a queen, but she did not condescend to +him. + +No words passed between them. Both realised the impossibility of speech +in that shrieking tempest. Moreover, there was no need for speech. +Earth's petty conventions had fallen away from them. They were as +children standing hand in hand on the edge of the unknown, hearing the +same thunderous music, bound by the same magic spell. + +Carey wondered later how long a time elapsed whilst they stood thus, +intently watching. It might have been for merely a few minutes, or it +might have been for the greater part of an hour. He never knew. + +The spell broke at length suddenly and terribly, with a grinding crash +that flung them both sideways upon the slippery deck. He went down, +still clinging instinctively to the rail, and the next instant, by its +aid, he was on his feet again, dragging his companion up with him. + +There followed a pause--a shuddering, expectant pause--while wind and +sea raged all around them like beasts of prey. And through it there came +the sound of the engine throbbing impotently spasmodically, like the +heart of a dying man. Quite suddenly it ceased, and there was a +frightful uproar of escaping steam. The deck on which they stood began +to tilt slowly upwards. + +Carey knew what had happened. They had struck a rock in that awful +darkness, and they were going down with frightful rapidity into the +seething, storm-tossed water. + +He had never been shipwrecked before, but, as by instinct, he realised +the madness of remaining where he was. A coil of rope lay almost at his +feet, and he stooped and seized it. There had come a brief lull in the +storm, but he knew that there was not a moment to spare. Still +supporting his companion, he began to bind the rope around them both. + +She looked up at him quickly, and he saw her lips move in protest. She +even set her hands against his breast, as if to resist him. But he +overcame her almost savagely. It was no moment for argument. + +The slope of the deck was becoming every instant more acute. The wind +was racing back across the sea. Above them--very far above them, it +seemed--there was a confusion of figures, but the tumult of wind and +waves drowned all other sound. Carey's feet began to slip on that awful +slant. They were sinking rapidly, rapidly. + +He knotted the rope and gathered himself together. An instant he hung on +the rail, breathing deeply. Then with a jerk he relaxed his grip and +leaped blindly into the howling darkness, hurling himself and the woman +with him far into the raging sea. + + * * * + +It was suffocatingly hot. Carey raised his arms with a desperate +movement. He felt as if he were swimming in hot vapour. And he had been +swimming for a long time, too. He was deadly tired. A light flashed in +his eyes, and very far above him--like an object viewed through the +small end of a telescope--he saw a face. Vaguely he heard a voice +speaking, but what it said was beyond his comprehension. It seemed to +utter unintelligible things. For a while he laboured to understand, then +the effort became too much for him. The light faded from his brain. + +Later--much later, it seemed--he awoke to full consciousness, to find +himself in a Breton fisherman's cottage, watched over by a kindly little +French doctor who tended him as though he had been his brother. + +"_Monsieur_ is better, but much better," he was cheerily assured. "And +for _madame_ his wife he need have no inquietude. She is safe and well, +and only concerns herself for _monsieur_." + +This was reassuring, and Carey accepted it without comment or inquiry. +He knew that there was a misunderstanding somewhere, but he was still +too exhausted to trouble himself about so slight a matter. He thanked +his kindly informant, and again he slept. + +Two days later his interest in life revived. He began to ask questions, +and received from the doctor a full account of what had occurred. + +He had been washed ashore, he was told--he and _madame_ his +wife--lashed fast together. The ship had been wrecked within half a mile +of the land. But the seas had been terrific. There had not been many +survivors. + +Carey digested the news in silence. He had had no friends on board, +having embarked only at Gibraltar. + +At length he looked up with a faint smile at his faithful attendant. +"And where is--_madame_?" he asked. + +The little doctor hesitated, and spread out his hands deprecatingly. + +"Oh, _monsieur_, I regret--I much regret--to have to inform you that she +is already departed for Paris. Her solicitude for you was great, was +pathetic. The first words she speak were: 'My husband, do not let him +know!' as though she feared that you would be distressed for her. And +then she recover quick, quick, and say that she must go--that _monsieur_ +when he know, will understand. And so she depart early in the morning of +yesterday while _monsieur_ is still asleep." + +He was watching Carey with obvious anxiety as he ended, but the +Englishman's face expressed nothing but a somewhat elaborate +indifference. + +"I see," he said, and relapsed into silence. + +He made no further reference to the matter, and the doctor discreetly +abstained from asking questions. He presently showed him an English +paper which contained the information that Mr. and Mrs. Carey were among +the rescued. + +"That," he remarked, "will alleviate the anxiety of your friends." + +To which Carey responded, with a curt laugh: "No one knew that we were +on board." + +He left for Paris on the following day, allowing the doctor to infer +that he was on his way to join his wife. + + +I + +It was growing dark in the empty class-room, but there was nothing left +to do, and the French mistress, sitting alone at her high desk, made no +move to turn on the light. All the lesson books were packed away out of +sight. There was not so much as a stray pencil trespassing upon that +desert of orderliness. Only the waste-paper basket, standing behind +_Mademoiselle_ Trèves's chair, gave evidence of the tempest of energy +that had preceded this empty calm in the midst of which she sat alone. +It was crammed to overflowing with torn exercise books, and all manner +of schoolgirls' rubbish, and now and then it creaked eerily in the +desolate silence as though at the touch of an invisible hand. + +It was very cold in the great room, for the fire had gone out long ago. +There was no one left to enjoy it except _mademoiselle_, who apparently +did not count. For most of the pupils had departed in the morning, and +those who were left were collected in the great hall speeding one after +another upon their homeward way. All day the wheels of cabs had crunched +the gravel below the class-room window, but they were not so audible +now, for the ground was thickly covered with snow, which had been +drearily falling throughout the afternoon. + +It lay piled upon the window-sill, casting a ghostly light into the +darkening room, vaguely outlining the slender figure that sat so still +before the high desk. + +Another cab-load of laughing girls was just passing out at the gate. +There could not be many left. The darkness increased, and _mademoiselle_ +drew a quick breath and shivered. She wished the departures were all +over. + +There came a light step in the passage, and a daring whistle, which +broke off short as a hand impetuously opened the class-room door. + +"Why, _mademoiselle!_" cried a fresh young voice. "Why, _chérie!_" Warm +arms encircled the lonely figure, and eager lips pressed the cold face. +"Oh, _chérie_, don't grizzle!" besought the newcomer. "Why, I've never +known you do such a thing before. Have you been here all this time? I've +been looking for you all over the place. I couldn't leave without one +more good-bye. And see here, _chérie_, you must--you must--come to my +birthday-party on New Year's Eve. If you won't come and stay with me, +which I do think you might, you must come down for that one night. It's +no distance, you know. And it's only a children's show. There won't be +any grown-ups except my cousin Reggie, who is the sweetest man in the +world, and Mummy's Admiral who comes next. Say you will, _chérie_, for I +shall be sixteen--just think of it!--and I do want you to be there. You +will, won't you? Come, promise!" + +It was hard to refuse this petitioner, so warmly fascinating was she. +_Mademoiselle_, who, it was well known, never accepted any invitations, +hesitated for the first time--and was lost. + +"If I came just for that one evening then, Gwen, you would not press me +to stay longer?" + +"Bless you, no!" declared Gwen. "I'll drive you to the station myself in +Mummy's car to catch the first train next morning, if you'll come. And +I'll make Reggie come too. You'll just love Reggie, _chérie_. He's my +exact ideal of what a man ought to be--the best friend I have, next to +you. Well, it's a bargain then, isn't it? You'll come and help dance +with the kids--you promise? That's my own sweet _chérie_! And now you +mustn't grizzle here in the dark any longer. I believe my cab is at the +door. Come down and see me off, won't you?" + +Yet again she was irresistible. They went out together, hand in hand, +happy child and lonely woman, and the door of the deserted class-room +banged with a desolate echoing behind them. + + +II + +It was ten days later, on a foggy evening, in the end of the year, that +Reginald Carey alighted at a small wayside station, and grimly prepared +himself for a five-mile trudge through dark and muddy lanes to his +destination. + +The only conveyance in the station yard was a private motor car, and his +first glance at this convinced him that it was not there to await him. +He paused under the lamp outside to turn up his collar, and, as he did +so, a man of gigantic breadth and stature, wearing goggles, came out of +the station behind him and strode past. He glanced at Carey casually as +he went by, looked again, then suddenly stopped and peered at him. + +"Great Scotland!" he exclaimed abruptly. "I know you--or ought to. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein. +Thought there was something familiar about you the moment I saw you. You +remember me, eh?" + +He turned back his goggles impetuously, and showed Carey his face. + +Yes; Carey remembered him very well indeed, though he was not sure that +the acquaintance was one he desired to improve. He took the proffered +hand with a certain reserve. + +"Yes; I remember you. I don't think I ever heard your name, but that's a +detail. You came out of it all right, then?" + +"Oh, yes; more or less. Nothing ever hurts me." The big man's laugh had +in it a touch of bitterness. "Where are you bound for? Come along with +me in the car; I'll take you where you want to go." He seized Carey by +the shoulder, impelling him with boisterous cordiality towards the +vehicle. "Jump in, my friend. My name is Coningsby--Major Coningsby, of +Crooklands Manor--mad Coningsby I'm called about here, because I happen +to ride straighter to hounds than most of 'em. A bit of a compliment, +eh? But they're a shocking set of muffs in these parts. You don't live +here?" + +"No; I am down on a visit to my cousin, Lady Emberdale. She lives at +Crooklands Mead. I've come down a day sooner than I was expected, and +the train was two hours late. I'm Reginald Carey." He stopped before the +step of the car. "It's very good of you, but I won't take you out of +your way on such a beastly night. I can quite well walk." + +"Nonsense, man! It's no distance, and it isn't out of the way. I've only +just motored down to get an evening paper. You're just in time to dine +with me. I'm all alone, and confoundedly glad to see you. I know Lady +Emberdale well. Come, jump in!" + +Thus urged, Carey yielded, not over-willingly, and took his seat in the +car. + +Directly they started, he knew the reason for his companion's pseudonym, +for they whizzed out of the yard at a speed which must have disquieted +the stoutest nerves. + +It was the maddest ride he had ever experienced, and he wondered by what +instinct Major Coningsby kept a straight course through the darkness. +Their own lamps provided the only light there was, and when they +presently turned sharply at right angles he gathered himself together +instinctively in preparation for a smash. + +But nothing happened. They tore on a little farther in darkness, +travelling along a private road; and then the lights of a house pierced +the gloom. + +Coningsby brought his car to a standstill. + +"Tumble out! The front door is straight ahead. My man will let you in +and look after you. Excuse me a moment while I take the car round!" + +He was gone with the words, leaving Carey to ascend a flight of steps to +the hall door. It opened at once to admit him, and he found himself in a +great hall dimly illumined by firelight. A servant helped him to divest +himself of his overcoat, and silently led the way. + +The room he entered was furnished as a library. He glanced round it as +he stood on the hearth-rug, awaiting his host, and was chiefly struck by +the general atmosphere of dreariness that pervaded it. Its sombre oak +furniture seemed to absorb instead of reflecting the light. There was a +large oil-painting above the fireplace, and after a few seconds he +turned his head and saw it. It was the portrait of a woman. + +Young, beautiful, queenly, the painted face looked down into his own, +and the man's heart gave a sudden, curious throb that was half rapture +and half pain. In a moment the room he had just entered, with all the +circumstances that had taken him there, was blotted from his brain. He +was standing once more on the rocking deck of a steamer, in a tempest of +wind and rain and furious sea, facing the storm, exultant, with a +woman's hand fast gripped in his. + +"Are you looking at that picture?" said a voice. "It's my wife--dead +now--lost--five years ago--at sea!" + +Carey wheeled sharply at the jerky utterance. Coningsby was standing by +his side. He was staring upwards at the portrait, a strange gleam +darting in his eyes--a gleam not wholly sane. + +"It doesn't do her justice," he went on in the same abrupt, headlong +fashion. "But it's better than nothing. She was the only woman who ever +satisfied me. Her loss damaged me badly. I've never been the same since. +There've been others, of course, but she was always first--an easy +first. I shall want her--I shall go on wanting her--till I'm in my +grave." His voice was suddenly husky, as the voice of a man in pain. +"It's like a fiery thirst," he said. "I try to quench it--Heaven knows I +try! But it comes back--it comes back." + +He swung round on his heel and went to the table. There followed the +clink of glasses, but Carey did not turn. His eyes had left the picture, +and were fixed, stern and unwinking, upon the fire that glowed at his +feet. + +Again he seemed to feel the clasp of a woman's hand, free and confiding, +within his own. Again his heart stirred responsively in the quick warmth +of a woman's perfect sympathy. + +And he knew that into his keeping had been given the secret of that +woman's existence. The five years' mystery was solved at last. He +understood, and, understanding, he kept silent faith with her. + + +III + +It was two hours later that Carey presented himself at his cousin's +house. He entered unobtrusively, as his manner was, knowing himself to +be a welcome guest. + +The first person to greet him was Gwen, who, accompanied by a college +youth of twenty, was roasting chestnuts in front of the hall fire. She +sprang up at the sound of his voice, and, flushed and eager, rushed to +meet him. + +"Why, Reggie, my dear old boy, who would have thought of seeing you +to-night? Come right in! Aren't you very cold? How did you get here? +Have you dined? This is Charlie Rivers, the Admiral's son. Charlie, you +have heard me speak of my cousin, Mr. Carey." + +Charlie had, several times over, and said so, with a grin, as he made +room for Carey in front of the blaze, taking care to keep himself next +to Gwen. + +Carey considerately fell in with the manoeuvre and, greetings over, they +huddled sociably together over the fire, and fell to discussing the +birthday party which was to be held on the morrow. + +Gwen was a curious blend of excitement and common sense. She had been +busily preparing all day for the coming festivity. + +"There's one visitor I want you both to be very good to," she said, "and +see that she takes plenty of refreshments, whether she wants them or +not." + +Young Rivers grimaced at Carey. + +"You can have my share of this unattractive female," he said generously. +"It's Gwen's schoolmistress, and I'll bet she's as heavy as a sack of +coals." + +"I can't dance. I'm lame," said Carey. "But I don't mind sitting out in +the refreshment room to please Gwen. How old is she, Gwen? About twice +my age?" + +Gwen did not stop to calculate. + +"Older than that, I should think. Her hair is quite grey, and she's very +sad and quiet. I am sure she has had a lot of trouble. Very likely she +won't want to dance either, so there will be a pair of you. Her name is +_Mademoiselle_ Trèves, but she is only half French, and speaks English +better than I do. She never goes anywhere, so I do want her to have a +good time. You will be kind to her, won't you? I'll introduce you to her +as early as possible. We are all going to wear masks till midnight." + +"Stupid things--masks," said Charlie very decidedly. "Don't like 'em." + +Gwen turned upon him. + +"It's much the fairest way. If we didn't wear them, the pretty girls +would get all the best dances." + +"Oh, well, you wouldn't be left out, anyway," he assured her. + +At which compliment Gwen sniffed contemptuously, and pointedly requested +Carey to give her a few minutes in strict privacy before they parted for +the night. + +He saw that she meant it; and when Charlie had reluctantly taken himself +off he went with his young cousin to her own little sitting-room +upstairs before seeking Lady Emberdale in the drawing-room. + +Gwen could scarcely wait till the door was closed before she began to +lay her troubles before him. + +"It's Mummy!" she told him very seriously. "You can't think how sick and +disgusted I am. Sit down, Reggie, and I'll tell you all about it! Being +Mummy's trustee, perhaps you will have some influence over her. I have +none. She thinks I'm prejudiced. And I'm not, Reggie. There's nothing to +make me so except that Charlie is a nice boy, and the Admiral a perfect +darling." + +She paused for breath, and Carey patiently waited for further +enlightenment. It came. + +"Of course," she said, seating herself on the arm of his chair, "I've +always known that Mummy would marry again some day or other. She's so +young and pretty; and I haven't minded the idea a bit. Poor, dear Dad +was always such a very, very old man! But I do want her to marry +someone nice now the time has come. All through the summer holidays I +felt sure it was going to be the Admiral, and I was so pleased about it. +Charlie and I used to make bets about its coming off before Christmas. +He was ever so pleased, too, and we'd settled to join together for the +wedding present so as to get something decent. It was all going to be so +jolly. And now," with a great sigh, "everything's spoilt. +There's--there's someone else." + +"Good heavens!" said Carey. "Who?" + +He had been suppressing a laugh during the greater part of Gwen's +confidence, but this last announcement startled him into sobriety. A +very faint misgiving stirred in his soul. What if--but no; it was +preposterous. He thrust it from him. + +Gwen slid a loving arm about his neck. + +"I like telling you things, Reggie. You always understand, and they +never worry me so much afterwards. For I am--horribly worried. Mummy met +him in the hunting field. He has come to live quite near us--oh, such a +brute he is, loud and coarse and bullying! He rode a horse to death only +a few weeks ago. They say he's mad, and I'm nearly sure he drinks as +well. And he and Mummy have chummed up. They are as thick as thieves, +and he's always coming to the house, dropping in at odd hours. The poor, +dear Admiral hasn't a chance. He's much too gentlemanly to elbow his way +in like--like this horrid Major Coningsby. Oh, Reggie, do you think you +can do anything to stop it? I don't want her to marry him, neither does +Charlie. My, Reggie, what's the matter? You don't know him, do you? You +don't know anything bad about him?" + +Carey was on his feet, pacing slowly to and fro. One hand--the maimed +left hand--was thrust away out of sight, as his habit was in a woman's +presence. The other was clenched hard at his side. + +He did not at once answer Gwen's agitated questioning. She sat and +watched him in some anxiety, wondering at the stern perplexity with +which he reviewed the problem. + +Suddenly he stopped in front of her. + +"Yes; I know the man," he said. "I knew him years ago in South Africa, +and I met him again to-night. I must think this matter over, and +consider it carefully. You are quite sure of what you say--quite sure he +is attracted by your mother?" + +Gwen nodded. + +"Oh, there's no doubt of that. He treats her already as if she were his +property. You won't tell her I told you, Reggie? It will simply +precipitate matters if you do." + +"No; I shan't tell her. I never argue with women." Carey spoke almost +savagely. He was staring at something that Gwen could not see. + +"Do you think you will be able to stop it?" she asked him, with a +slightly nervous hesitation. + +His eyes came back to her. He seemed to consider her for a moment. Then, +seeing that she was really troubled, he spoke with sudden kindliness: + +"I think so, yes. But never mind how! Leave it to me and put it out of +your head as much as possible! I quite agree with you that it is an +arrangement that wouldn't do at all. Why on earth couldn't your friend +the Admiral speak before?" + +"I wish he had," said Gwen, from her heart. "And I believe he does, too, +now. But men are so idiotic, Reggie. They always miss their +opportunities." + +"Think so?" said Carey. "Some men never have any, it seems to me." + +And he left her wondering at the bitterness of his speech. + + +IV + +The winter sunlight was streaming into Major Coningsby's gloomy library +when Carey again stood within it. The Major was out riding, he had been +told, but he was expected back ere long; and he had decided to wait for +him. + +And so he stood waiting before the portrait; and closely, critically, he +studied it by the morning light. + +It was the face which for five years now he had carried graven on his +heart. She was the one woman to him--the woman of his dream. Throughout +his wanderings he had cherished the memory of her--a secret and +priceless possession to which he clung day and night, waking and +sleeping. He had made no effort to find her during those years, but +silently, almost in spite of himself, he had kept her in his heart, had +called her to him in his dreams, yearning to her across the +ever-widening gulf, hungering dumbly for the voice he had never heard. + +He knew that he was no favourite with women. All his life his reserve +had been a barrier that none had ever sought to pass till this +woman--the woman who should have been his fate--had been drifted to him +through life's stress and tumult and had laid her hand with perfect +confidence in his. And now it was laid upon him to betray that +confidence. He no longer had the right to keep her secret. He had +protected her once, and it had been as a hidden, sacred bond invisibly +linking them together. But it could do so no longer. The time had come +to wrest that precious link apart. + +Sharply he turned from the picture. The dark eyes tortured him. They +seemed to be pleading with him, entreating him. There came a sudden +clatter without, the tramp of heavy feet, the jingle of spurs. The door +was flung noisily back, and Major Coningsby strode in. + +"Hullo! Very good of you to look me up so soon. Sorry I wasn't in to +receive you. Haven't you had a drink yet?" + +He tossed his riding-whip down upon the table, and busied himself with +the glasses. + +Carey drew near; his face was stern. + +"I have something to say to you," he said, "before we drink, if you have +no objection." + +His voice was quiet and very even, but Coningsby looked up with a quick +frown. + +"Confound you, Carey! What are you pulling a long face about this time +of the morning? Better have a drink; it'll make you feel more sociable." + +He spoke with sharp irritation. The hand that held the spirit-decanter +was not over-steady. Carey watched him--coldly critical. + +"That portrait over the mantelpiece," he said; "your wife, I think you +told me?" + +Coningsby swore a deep oath. + +"I may have told you so. I don't often mention the subject. She is +dead." + +"I beg your pardon; I am forced to mention it." Carey's tone was +deliberate, emotionless, hard. "That lady--the original of that +portrait--is still alive, to the best of my belief. At least, she was +not lost at sea on the occasion of the wreck of the _Denver Castle_ five +years ago." + +"What?" said Coningsby. He turned suddenly white--white to the lips, and +set down the decanter he was still holding as if he had been struck +powerless. "What?" he said again, with starting eyes upon Carey's face. + +"I think you understood me," Carey returned coldly. "I have told you +because, upon consideration, it seemed to me you ought to know." + +The thing was done and past recall, but deep in his heart there lurked a +savage resentment against this man who had forced him to break his +silence. He felt no sympathy with him; he only knew disgust. + +Coningsby moved suddenly with a frantic oath, and gripped him by the +shoulder. The blood was coming back to his face in livid patches; his +eyes were terrible. + +"Go on!" he said thickly. "Out with it! Tell me all you know!" + +He towered over Carey. There was violence in his grip, but Carey did +not seem to notice. He faced the giant with absolute composure. + +"I can tell you no more," he said. "I knew she was saved, because I was +saved with her. But she left Brittany while I was still too ill to +move." + +"You must know more than that!" shouted Coningsby, losing all control of +himself, and shaking his informant furiously by the shoulder. "If she +was saved, how did she come to be reported missing?" + +For a single instant Carey hesitated; then, with steady eyes upon the +bloated face above him, he made quiet reply: + +"Her name was among the missing by her own contrivance. Doubtless she +had her reasons." + +Coningsby's face suddenly changed: his eyes shone red. + +"You helped her!" he snarled, and lifted a clenched fist. + +Carey's maimed hand came quietly into view, and closed upon the man's +wrist. + +"It is not my custom," he coldly said, "to refuse help to a woman." + +"Confound you!" stormed Coningsby. "Where is she now? Where? Where?" + +There fell a sudden pause. Carey's eyes were like steel; his grasp never +slackened. + +"If I knew," he said deliberately, at length, "I should not tell you! +You are not fit for the society of any good woman." + +The words fell keen as a whip-lash, and as pitiless. Coningsby glared +into his face like a goaded bull; his look was murderous. And then by +some chance his eyes fell upon the hand that gripped his wrist. He +looked at it closely, attentively, for a few seconds, and finally set +Carey free. + +"You may thank that," he said more quietly, "for getting you out of the +hottest corner you were ever in. I didn't notice it yesterday, though I +remember now that you were wounded. So you parted with half your hand to +drag me out of that hell, did you? It was a rank, bad investment on your +part." + +He flung away abruptly, and helped himself to some brandy. A +considerable pause ensued before he spoke again. + +"Egad!" he said then, with a harsh laugh, "it's a deuced ingenious lie, +this of yours. I suppose you and that imp of mischief, Gwen, hatched it +up between you? I saw she had got her thinking-cap on yesterday. I am +not considered good enough for her lady mother. But, mark you, I'm going +to have her for all that! It isn't good for man to live alone, and I +have taken a fancy to Evelyn Emberdale." + +"You don't believe me?" Carey asked. + +Somehow, though he had been prepared for bluster and even violence, he +had not expected incredulity. + +Coningsby filled and emptied his glass a second time before he answered. + +"No," he said then, with sudden savagery: "I don't believe you! You had +better get out of my house at once, or--I warn you--I may break every +bone in your blackguardly body yet!" He turned on Carey, leaping madness +in his eyes. + +But Carey stood like a rock. "You know the truth," he said quietly. + +Coningsby broke into another wild laugh, and pointed up at the picture +above his head. + +"I shall know it," he declared, "when the sea gives up its dead. Till +that day I am free to console myself in my own way, and no one shall +stop me." + +"You are not free," Carey said. Very steadily he faced the man, very +distinctly he spoke. "And, however you console yourself, it will not be +with my cousin Lady Emberdale." + +Coningsby turned back to the table to fill his glass again. He spilt the +spirit over the cloth as he did it. + +"Man alive," he gibed, "do you think she will believe you if I don't?" + +It was the weak point of his position, and Carey realised it. It was +more than probable that Lady Emberdale would take Coningsby's view of +the matter. If the man really attracted her it was almost a foregone +conclusion. He knew Gwen's mother well--her inconsequent whims, her +obstinacy. + +Yet, even in face of this check, he stood his ground. + +"I may find some means of proving what I have told you," he said, with +unswerving resolution. + +Coningsby drained his glass for the third time, and, with a menacing +sweep of the hand, seized his riding-whip. + +"I don't advise you to come here with your proofs," he snarled. "The +only proof I would look at is the woman herself. Now, sir, I have warned +you fairly. Are you going?" + +His attitude was openly threatening, but Carey's eyes were piercingly +upon him, and, in spite of himself, he paused. So for the passage of +seconds they stood; then slowly Carey turned away. + +"I am going," he said, "to find your wife." + +He did not glance again at the picture as he passed from the room. He +could not bring himself to meet the dark eyes that followed him. + + +V + +Yes; he would find her. But how? There was only one course open to him, +and he shrank from that with disgust unutterable. It was useless to +think of advertising. He was convinced that she would never answer an +advertisement. + +The only way to find her was to employ a detective to track her down. He +clenched his hands in impotent revolt. Not only had it been laid upon +him to betray her confidence, but he must follow this up by dragging her +from her hiding-place, and returning her to the bitter bondage from +which he had once helped her to escape. + +That she still lived he was inwardly convinced. He would have given all +he had to have known her dead. + +But, for that day, at least, there was no more to be done, and Gwen must +not have her birthday spoilt by the knowledge of his failure. He decided +to keep out of her way till the evening. + +When he entered the ball-room at the appointed time she pounced upon him +eagerly, but her young guests were nearly all assembled, and it was no +moment for private conversation. + +"Oh, Reggie! There you are! How dreadful you look in a mask! This is my +cousin, _mademoiselle_," turning to a lady in black who accompanied her. +"I've been wanting to introduce him to you. Don't forget that the masks +are not to come off till midnight. We're going to boom the big gong when +the clock strikes twelve." + +She flitted away in her shimmering fairy's dress, closely attended by +Charlie Rivers, to persuade his father to give her a dance. The room was +crowded with masked guests, Lady Emberdale, handsome and brilliant, and +Admiral Rivers, her bluff but faithful admirer, being the only +exceptions to the rule of the evening. + +Carey found himself standing apart with Gwen's particular _protégée_, +and he realised at once that he could expect no help from Charlie in +this quarter. For, though slim and graceful, _Mademoiselle_ Trèves's +general appearance was undeniably sombre and elderly. The hair that she +wore coiled regally upon her head was silver-grey, and there was a +certain weariness about the mouth that, though it did not rob it of its +sweetness, deprived it of all suggestion of youth. + +"I don't know if I am justified in asking for a dance," Carey said. "My +own dancing days are over." + +She smiled at him, and instantly the weariness vanished. There was magic +in her smile. + +"I am no dancer either, except with the little ones. If you care to sit +out with me, I shall be very pleased." + +Her voice was low and musical. It caught his fancy so that he was aware +of a sudden curiosity to see the face that the black mask concealed. + +"Give me the twelve-o'clock dance," he said, "if you can spare it!" + +She consulted the programme that hung from her wrist. He bent over it as +she held it, and scrawled his initials against the dance in question. + +"Perhaps I shall not stay for that one," she said, with slight +hesitation. + +He glanced up at her. + +"I thought you were here for the night." + +She bent her head. + +"But I may slip away before twelve for all that." + +Carey smiled. + +"I don't think you will, not anyhow if I have a voice in the matter. I +am Gwen's lieutenant, you know, specially enrolled to prevent any +deserting. There is a heavy penalty for desertion." + +"What is it?" + +Carey bent again over the programme. + +"Deserters will be brought back ignominiously and made to dance with +everyone in the room in turn." + +He glanced up again at the sound of her low laugh. There was something +elusively suggestive about her personality. + +"May I have another?" he said. "I hope you don't mind holding the card +for me." + +"You have hurt your hand?" she asked. + +It was thrust away, as usual, in his pocket. + +"Some years ago," he told her. "I don't use it more than I can help." + +"How disagreeable for you!" she murmured. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am used to it. It is worse for others than it is for me. May I have +No. 9? It includes the supper interval. Thanks! And any more you can +spare. I'm only lounging about and seeing that the kids enjoy +themselves. I shall be delighted to sit out with you when you are tired +of dancing." + +"You are very kind," she said. + +He made her an abrupt bow. + +"Then I hope you won't snub my efforts by deserting?" + +She laughed again. + +"No, lieutenant, I will not desert. I am going to help you." + +She spoke with a winning and impulsive graciousness that stirred again +within him that curious sense of groping in the dark among objects +familiar but unrecognisable. Surely he had met this stranger somewhere +before--in a crowded thoroughfare, in a train, possibly in a theatre, or +even in a church! + +She looked at him questioningly as he lingered, and with another bow he +turned and left her. Doubtless, when he saw her face he would remember, +or realise that he had been mistaken. + + +VI + +Mademoiselle Trèves kept her word, and wherever the fun was at its +height she was invariably the centre of it. The shy children crowded +about her. She seemed to possess a special charm for them. + +Gwen was delighted, and was obviously enjoying herself to the utmost. In +the absence of her _bête noire_ whom she had courageously omitted to +invite, she rejoiced to see that her mother was being unusually gracious +to her beloved Admiral, who was as merry as a schoolboy in consequence. + +She was shrewdly aware, however, that the welcome change was but +temporary. Incomprehensible though it was to Gwen, she knew that Major +Coningsby's power over her gay and frivolous young mother was absolute. +He ruled her with a rod of iron, and Lady Emberdale actually enjoyed his +tyranny. The rough court he paid her served to turn her head completely, +and she never attempted to resist his influence. + +It was all very distasteful to Gwen, who hated the man with the whole +force of her nature. She was thankful to feel that Carey was enlisted on +her side. She looked upon him as a tower of strength, and, forebodings +notwithstanding, she was able to throw herself heart and soul into the +evening's festivities, and to beam delightedly upon her cousin as she +walked behind him with Charlie to the supper room. + +Carey was escorting the French governess. He found a comfortable corner +for her in the thronged room at a table laid for two. + +"I am bearing in mind your promise to stand by till twelve o'clock," he +said. "It's the only thing that keeps me going, for I have a powerful +longing to remove my mask in defiance of orders. It feels like a porous +plaster. I shall only hold out till midnight with your gallant +assistance." + +He stooped with the words to pick up her fan which she had dropped. He +was obliged to use his left hand, and he knew that she gave a quick +start at sight of it. But she spoke instantly and he admired her ready +self-control. + +"It was rather a rash promise, I am afraid." + +Her voice sounded half shy and wholly sweet, and again he was caught by +that elusive quality about her that had puzzled him before. It was +stronger than ever, so strong that he felt for a moment on the verge of +discovery. But yet again it baffled him, making him all the more +determined to pursue it to its source. + +"You're not going to cry off?" he said, with a smile. + +He saw her flush behind her mask. + +"Only with your permission," she answered. + +He heard the note of pleading in her voice, but he would not notice it. + +"Oh, I can't let you off!" he said lightly. "Gwen would never forgive +me. Besides, I don't want to." + +She said no more, probably realising that he meant to have his way. They +talked upon indifferent topics in the midst of the general buzz of +merriment till, supper over, they separated. + +"I shall come for that midnight dance," were Carey's last words, as he +bowed and left her. + +And during the hour that intervened he kept a sharp eye upon her, lest +her evident reluctance to remain should prove too much for her +integrity. He was half amused at his own tenacity in the matter. Not for +years had a chance acquaintance so excited his curiosity. + +A few minutes before midnight he was standing before her. The last dance +of the evening had just begun. Gwen had decreed that everyone should +stop upon the stroke of twelve, while every mask was removed, after +which the dance was to be continued to the finish. + +"Shall we go upstairs?" suggested Carey. + +To his surprise he felt that the hand she laid upon his arm was +trembling. + +"By all means," she answered. "Let us get away from the crowd!" + +It was an unexpected request, but he showed no surprise. He piloted her +to a secluded spot in the upper regions, and they sat down on a lounge +at the end of a corridor. + +A queer sense of uneasiness had begun to oppress Carey, as strong as it +was inexplicable. He made a resolute effort to ignore it. The music +downstairs was sinking away. He took out his watch. + +"The dramatic moment approaches," he remarked, after a pause. "Are you +ready?" + +She did not speak. + +"I'll tell you why I want to see you unmask," he said, speaking very +quietly. "It is because there is something about you that reminds me of +someone I know, but the resemblance is so subtle that it has eluded me +all the evening." + +"You do not know me," she said. And he felt that she spoke with an +effort. + +"I am not so sure," he answered. "But in any case--" + +He paused. The music had ceased altogether, and an expectant silence +prevailed. He looked at her intently as he waited, till aware that she +shrank from his scrutiny. + +A long deep note boomed through the house, echoing weirdly through the +intense silence. Carey put up his hand without speaking, and stripped +off his mask. He crumpled it into a ball as the second note struck, and +looked at her. She had not moved. He waited silently. + +At the sixth note she made a sudden, almost passionate gesture and rose. +Carey remained motionless, watching her. Swiftly she turned, and began +to walk away from him. He leaned forward. His eyes were fixed upon her. + +Three more strokes! She stopped abruptly, turning back as if he had +spoken. Moving slowly, and still masked, she came back to him. He met +her under a lamp. His face was very pale, but his eyes were steady and +piercingly keen. He took her hand, bending over it till his lips touched +her glove. + +"I know you now," he said, his voice very low. + +Three more strokes, and silence. + +A ripple of laughter suddenly ran through the house, a gay voice called +for three cheers, and as though a spell had been lifted the merriment +burst out afresh in tune to the lilting dance-music. + +Carey straightened himself slowly, still holding the slender hand in +his. Her mask had gone at last, and he stood face to face with the woman +of his dream--the woman whose hard-won security he had only that morning +pledged himself to shatter. + + +VII + +"You know me," she said. + +"Yes; I know you. And I know your secret, too." + +The words sounded stern. He was putting strong restraint upon himself. + +She faced him without flinching, her look as steady as his own. And yet +again it was to Carey as though he stood in the presence of a queen. She +did not say a word. + +"Will you believe me," he said slowly, "when I tell you that I would +give all I have not to know it?" + +She raised her beautiful brows for a moment, but still she said nothing. + +He let her hand go. "I was on the point of searching to the world's end +for you," he said. "But since I have found you here of all places, I am +bound to take advantage of it. Forgive me, if you can!" + +He saw a gleam of apprehension in her eyes. + +"What is it you want to say to me?" she asked. + +He passed the question by. + +"You know me, I suppose?" + +She bent her head. + +"I fancied it was you from the first. When I saw your hand at supper, I +knew." + +"And you tried to avoid me?" + +"When you have something to conceal, it is wise to avoid anyone +connected with it." + +She answered him very quietly, but he knew instinctively that she was +fighting him with her whole strength. It was almost more than he could +bear. + +"Believe me," he said, "I am not a man to wantonly betray a woman's +secret. I have kept yours faithfully for years. But when within the last +few days I came to know who you were, and that your husband, Major +Coningsby, was contemplating making a second marriage, I was in honour +bound to speak." + +"You told him?" She raised her eyes for a single instant, and he read in +them a reproach unutterable. + +His heart smote him. What had she endured, this woman, before taking +that final step to cut herself off from the man whose name she had +borne? But he would not yield an inch. He was goaded by pitiless +necessity. + +"I told him," he answered. "But I had no means of proving what I said. +And he refused to believe me." + +"And now?" she almost whispered. + +He heard the note of tragedy in the words, and he braced himself to meet +her most desperate resistance. + +"Before I go further," he said, "let me tell you this! Slight though you +may consider our acquaintance to be, I have always felt--I have always +known--that you are a good woman." + +She made a quick gesture of protest. + +"Would a good woman have left the man who saved her life lying ill in a +strange land while she escaped with her miserable freedom?" + +He answered her without hesitation, as he had long ago answered himself. + +"No doubt the need was great." + +She turned away from him and sat down, bowing her head upon her hand. + +"It was," she said, her voice very low. "I was nearly mad with trouble. +You had pity then--without knowing. Have you--no pity--now?" + +The appeal went out into silence. Carey neither spoke nor moved. His +face was like a stone mask--the face of a strong man in torture. + +After a pause of seconds she spoke again, her face hidden from him. + +"The first Mrs. Coningsby is dead," she said. "Let it be so! Nothing +will ever bring her back. Geoffrey Coningsby is free to marry--whom he +will." + +The words were scarcely more than a whisper, but they reached and +pierced him to the heart. He drew a step nearer to her, and spoke with +sudden vehemence. + +"I would help you, Heaven knows, if I could! But you will see--you must +see presently--that I have no choice. There is only one thing to be +done, and it has fallen to me to see it through, though it would be +easier for me to die!" + +He broke off. There was strangled passion in his voice. Abruptly he +turned his back upon her, and began to pace up and down. Again there +fell a long pause. The music and the tramp of dancing feet below rose up +in his ears like a shout of mockery. He was fighting the hardest battle +of his life, fighting single-handed and grievously wounded for a victory +that would cripple him for the rest of his days. + +Suddenly he stood still and looked at her, though she had not moved, +unless her head with its silvery hair were bowed a little lower than +before. For a single instant he hesitated, then strode impulsively to +her, and knelt down by her side. + +"God help us both!" he said hoarsely. + +His hands were on her shoulders. He drew her to him, taking the bowed +head upon his breast. And so, silently, he held her. When she looked up +at last, he knew that the bitter triumph was his. Her face was deathly, +but her eyes were steadfast. She drew herself very gently out of his +hold. + +"I do not think," she said, "that there is anyone else in the world who +could have done for me what you have done tonight." She paused a moment +looking straight into his eyes, then laid her hands in his without a +quiver. "Years ago," she said, "you saved my life. Tonight--you have +saved something infinitely more precious than that. And I--I am +grateful to you. I will do--whatever you think right." + +It was a free surrender, but it wrung his heart to accept it. Even in +that moment of tragedy there was to him something of that sublime +courage with which she had faced the tumult of a stormy sea with him +five years before. And very poignantly it came home to him that he was +there to destroy and not to deliver. Like a wave of evil, it rushed upon +him, overwhelming him. + +He could not trust himself to speak. The wild words that ran in his +brain were such as he could not utter. And so he only bent his head once +more over the hands that lay so trustingly in his, and with great +reverence he kissed them. + + +VIII + +It was on a cold, dark evening two days later that Major Coningsby +returned from the first run of the year, and tramped, mud-splashed and +stiff from hard riding, into his gloomy house. A gust of rain blew +swirling after him, and he turned, swearing, and shut the great door +with a bang. It had not been a good day for sport. The ground had been +sodden, and the scent had washed away. He had followed the hounds for +miles to no purpose and had galloped home at last in sheer disgust. To +add to his grievances he had called upon Lady Emberdale on his way back, +and had not found her in. "Gone to tea with her precious Admiral, I +suppose!" he had growled, as he rode away, which, as it chanced, was the +case. The suspicion had not improved his mood, and he was very much out +of humour when he finally reached his own domain. Striding into the +library, he turned on the threshold to curse his servant for not having +lighted the lamp, and the man hastened forward nervously to repair the +omission. This accomplished, he as hastily retired, glancing furtively +over his shoulder as he made his escape. + +Coningsby tramped to the hearth, and stood there, beating his leg +irritably with his riding-whip. There was a heavy frown on his face. He +did not once raise his eyes to the picture above him. He was still +thinking of Lady Emberdale and the Admiral. Finally, with a sudden idea +of refreshing himself, he wheeled towards the table. The next instant, +he stood and stared as if transfixed. + +A woman dressed in black, and thickly veiled, was standing facing him +under the lamp. + +He gazed at her speechlessly for a second or two, then passed his hand +across his eyes. + +"Great heavens!" he said slowly, at last. + +She made a quick movement of the hands that was like a gesture of +shrinking. + +"You don't know me?" she asked, in a voice so low as to be barely +audible. + +For a moment there flashed into his face the curious, listening look +that is seen on the faces of the blind. Then violently he strode +forward. + +"I should know that voice in ten thousand!" he cried, his words sharp +and quivering. "Take off your veil, woman! Show me your face!" + +The hunger in his eyes was terrible to see. He looked like a dying man +reaching out impotent hands for some priceless elixir of life. + +"Your face!" he gasped again hoarsely, brokenly. "Show me your face!" + +Mutely she obeyed him, removed hat and veil with fingers that never +faltered, and turned her sad, calm face towards him. For seconds longer +he stared at her, stared devouringly, fiercely, with the eyes of a +madman. Then, suddenly, with a great cry, he stumbled forward, flinging +himself upon his knees at the table, with his face hidden on his arms. + +"Oh, I know you! I know you!" he sobbed. "You've tortured me like this +before. You've made me think I had only to open my arms to you, and I +should have you close against my heart. It's happened night after night, +night after night! Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!" + +His voice choked, and he became intensely still crouching there before +her in an anguish too great for words. + +For a long time she was motionless too, but at last, as he did not move, +she came a step toward him, pity and repugnance struggling visibly for +the mastery over her. Reluctantly she stooped and touched his shoulder. + +"Geoffrey!" she said, "it is I, myself, this time." + +He started at her touch but did not lift his head. + +She waited, and presently he began to recover himself. At last he +blundered heavily to his feet. + +"It's true, is it?" he said, peering at her uncertainly. "You're +here--in the flesh? You've been having just a ghastly sort of game with +me all these years, have you? Hang it, I didn't deserve quite that! And +so the little newspaper chap spoke the truth, after all." + +He paused; then suddenly flung out his arms to her as he stood. + +"Naomi!" he cried, "come to me, my girl! Don't be afraid. I swear I'll +be good to you, and I'm a man that keeps his oath! Come to me, I say!" + +But she held back from him, her face still white and calm. + +"No, Geoffrey," she said very firmly, "I haven't come back to you for +that. When I left you, I left you for good. And you know why. I never +meant to see your face again. You had made my life with you impossible. +I have only come to-day as--as a matter of principle, because I heard +you were going to marry again." + +The man's arms fell slowly. + +"You were always rather great on principle," he said, in an odd tone. + +He was not angry--that she saw. But the sudden dying away of the +eagerness on his face made him look old and different. This was not the +man whose hurricanes of violence had once overwhelmed her, whose +unrestrained passions had finally driven her from him to take refuge in +a lie. + +"I should not have come," she said, speaking with less assurance, "if it +had not been to prevent a wrong being done to another woman." + +His expression did not change. + +"I see," he said quietly. "Who sent you? Carey?" + +She flushed uncontrollably at the question, though there was no offence +in the tone in which it was uttered. + +"Yes," she answered, after a moment. + +Coningsby turned slowly and looked into the fire. + +"And how did he persuade you?" he asked. "Did he tell you I was going +blind?" + +"No!" There was apprehension as well as surprise in her voice; and he +jerked his head up as though listening to it. + +"Ah, well!" he said. "It doesn't much matter. There is a remedy for all +this world's evils. No doubt I shall take it sooner or later. So you're +going again are you? I'm not to touch you; not to kiss your hand? You +won't have me as husband, slave, or dog! Egad!" He laughed out harshly. +"I used not to be so humble. If you were queen, I was king, and I made +you know it. There! Go! You have done what you came to do, and more +also. Go quickly, before I see your face again! I'm only mortal still, +and there are some things that mortals can't endure--even strong +men--even giants. So--good-bye!" + +He stopped abruptly. He was gripping the high mantelpiece with both +hands. Every bone of them stood out distinctly, and the veins shone +purple in the lamplight. His head was bowed forward upon his chest. He +was fighting fiercely with that demon of unfettered violence to which he +had yielded such complete allegiance all his life. + +Minutes passed. He dared not turn his head to look but he knew that she +had not gone. He waited dumbly, still forcing back the evil impulse +that tore at his heart. But the tension became at last intolerable, and +slowly, still gripping himself with all his waning strength, he stood up +and turned. + +She was standing close to him. The repugnance had all gone out of her +face. It held only the tenderness of a great compassion. + +As he stared at her dumbfounded, she held out her hands to him. + +"Geoffrey," she said, "if you wish it, I will come back to you." + +He stared at her, still wide-eyed and mute, as though a spell were upon +him. + +"Won't you have me, Geoffrey?" she said, a faint quiver in her voice. + +He seized her hands then, seized them, and drew her to him, bowing his +head down upon her shoulder with a great sob. + +"Naomi, Naomi," he whispered huskily, "I will be good to you, my +darling--so help me, God!" + +Her own eyes were full of tears. She yielded herself to him without a +word. + + +IX + +"Can I come in a moment, Reggie?" + +Gwen's bright face peered round the door at him as he sat at the +writing-table in his room, with his head upon his hand. He looked up at +her. + +"Yes, come in, child! What is it?" + +She entered eagerly and went to him. + +"Are you busy, dear old boy? It is horrid that you should be going away +so soon. I only wanted just to tell you something that the dear old +Admiral has just told me." + +She sat down in her favourite position on the arm of his chair, her arm +about his neck. Her eyes were shining. Carey looked up at her. + +"Well?" he said. "Has he plucked up courage at last to ask for what he +wants?" + +"Yes; he actually has." There was a purr of content in Gwen's voice. +"And it's quite all right, Reggie. Mummy has said 'yes,' as I knew she +would, directly I told her about Major Coningsby finding his wife again. +All she said to that was: 'Dear me! How annoying for poor Major +Coningsby!' I thought it was horrid of her to say that, but I didn't say +so, for I wanted it all to come quite casually. And after that I wrote +to Charlie, and he told the Admiral. And he came straight over only +this morning and asked her. He's been telling me all about it, and he's +so awfully happy! He says he was a big fool not to ask her long ago in +the summer. For what do you think she said, Reggie, when he told her +that he'd been wanting to marry her for ever so long, but couldn't be +quite sure how she felt about it? Why, she said, with that funny little +laugh of hers--you know her way--'My dear Admiral, I was only waiting +to be asked.' The dear old man nearly cried when he told me. And I +kissed him. And he and Charlie are coming over to dine this evening. So +we can all be happy together." + +Gwen paused to breathe, and to give her cousin an ardent hug. + +"You've been a perfect dear about it," she ended with enthusiasm. "It +would never have happened but for you, and--and Mademoiselle Trèves. Do +you think she hated going back to that man very badly?" + +"I think she did," said Carey. + +He was looking, not at Gwen, but straight at the window in front of him. +There were deep lines about his eyes, as if he had not slept of late. + +"But she needn't have stayed," urged Gwen. + +He did not answer. In his pocket there lay a slip of paper containing a +few brief lines in a woman's hand. + +"I have taken up my burden again, and, God helping me, I will carry it +now to the end. You know what it means to me, but I shall always thank +you in my heart, because in the hour of my utter weakness you were +strong.--NAOMI CONINGSBY." + +The splendid courage that underlay those few words had not hidden from +the man the cost of her sacrifice. She had gone voluntarily back into +the bondage that once had crushed her to the earth. And he--and he +only--knew what it meant to her. + +He was brought back to his surroundings by the pressure of Gwen's arm. +He turned and found her looking closely into his face. + +"Reggie," she said, with a touch of shyness, "are you--unhappy--about +something?" He did not answer her at once, and she slipped suddenly down +upon her knees by his side. "Forgive me, dear old boy! Do you know, I +couldn't help guessing a little? You're not vexed?" + +He laid a silencing hand upon her shoulder. + +"I don't mind your knowing, dear," he said gently. + +And he stooped, and kissed her forehead. She clung to him closely for a +second. When she rose, her eyes were wet. But, obedient to his unspoken +desire, she did not say another word. + +When she was gone Carey roused himself from his preoccupation, and +concentrated his thoughts upon his correspondence. He was leaving +England in two days, and travelling to the East on a solitary shooting +expedition. He did not review the prospect with much relish, but +inaction had become intolerable to him, and he had an intense longing +to get away. He had arranged to return to town that afternoon. + +It was towards luncheon-time that he left his room, and, descending, +came upon Lady Emberdale in the hall. She turned to meet him, a slight +flush upon her face. + +"No doubt Gwen has told you our piece of news?" she said. + +He held out his hand. + +"It is official, is it? I am very glad. I wish you joy with all my +heart." + +She accepted his congratulations with a gracious smile. + +"I think everyone is pleased, including those absurd children. By the +way, here is a note just come for you, brought by a groom from +Crooklands Manor. I was going to bring it up to you, as he is waiting +for an answer." + +He took it up and opened it hastily, with a murmured excuse. When he +looked up, Lady Emberdale saw at once that there was something wrong. +She began to question him, but he held the note out to her with a quick +gesture, and she took it from him. + + "My husband met with an accident while motoring this morning," + she read. "He has been brought home, terribly injured, and + keeps asking for you. Can you come? + + "N. CONINGSBY." + +Glancing up, she saw Carey, pale and stern, waiting to speak. + +"Send back word, 'Yes, at once,'" he said. "And perhaps you can spare me +the car?" + +He turned away without waiting for her reply, and went back to his room, +crushing the note unconsciously in his hand. + + +X + +"And the sea--gave up--the dead--that were in it." Haltingly the words +fell through the silence. There was a certain monotony about them, as if +they had been often repeated. The speaker turned his head from side to +side upon the pillow uneasily, as if conscious of restraint, then spoke +again in the tone of one newly awakened. "Why doesn't that fellow come?" +he demanded restlessly. "Did you tell him I couldn't wait?" + +"He is coming," a quiet voice answered at his side. "He will soon be +here." + +He moved his head again at the words, seeming to listen intently. + +"Ah, Naomi, my girl," he said, "you've turned up trumps at last. It +won't have been such a desperate sacrifice after all, eh, dear? It's +wonderful how things get squared. Is that the doctor there? I can't see +very well." + +The doctor bent over him. + +"Are you wanting anything?" + +"Nothing--nothing, except that fellow Carey. Why in thunder doesn't he +come? No; there's nothing you can do. I'm pegging out. My time is up. +You can't put back the clock. I wouldn't let you if you could--not as +things are. I have been a blackguard in my time, but I'll take my last +hedge straight. I'll die like a man." + +Again he turned his head, seeming to listen. + +"I thought I heard something. Did someone open the door? It's getting +very dark." + +Yes; the door had opened, but only the dying brain had caught the sound. +As Carey came noiselessly forward only the dying man greeted him. + +"Ah, here you are! Come quite close to me! I want to see you, if I can. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein?" + +"Yes," Carey said. + +He sat down by Coningsby's side, facing the light. + +"I was told you wanted me," he said. + +"Yes; I want you to give me a promise." Coningsby spoke rapidly, with +brows drawn together. "I suppose you know I'm a dead man?" + +"I don't believe in death," Carey answered very quietly. + +Coningsby's eyes burned with a strange light. + +"Nor I," he said. "Nor I. I've been too near it before now to be afraid. +Also, I've lived too long and too hard to care overmuch for what is +left. But there's one thing I mean to do before I go. And you'll give me +your promise to see it through?" + +He paused, breathing quick and short; then went on hurriedly, as a man +whose time is limited. + +"You'll stick to it, I know, for you're a fellow that speaks the truth. +I nearly thrashed you for it, once. Remember? You said I wasn't fit for +the society of any good woman. And you were right--quite right. I never +have been. Yet you ended by sending me the best woman in the world. What +made you do that, I wonder?" + +Carey did not answer. His face was sternly composed. He had not once +glanced at the woman who sat on the other side of Coningsby's bed. + +Coningsby went on unheeding. + +"I drove her away from me, and you--you sent her back. I don't think I +could have done that for the woman I loved. For you do love her, eh, +Carey? I remember seeing it in your face that first night I brought you +here. It comes back to me. You were standing before her portrait in the +library. You didn't know I saw you. I was drunk at the time. But I've +remembered it since." + +Again he paused. His breath was slowing down. It came spasmodically, +with long silences between. + +Carey had listened with his eyes fixed and hard, staring straight before +him, but now slowly at length he turned his head, and looked down at the +man who was dying. + +"Hadn't you better tell me what it is you want me to do?" he said. + +"Ah!" Coningsby seemed to rouse himself. "It isn't much, after all," he +said. "I made my will only this morning. It was on my way back that I +had the smash. I was quite sober, only I couldn't see very well, and I +lost control. All my property goes to my wife. That's all settled. But +there's one thing left--one thing left--which I am going to leave you. +It's the only thing I value, but there's no nobility about it, for I +can't take it with me where I'm going. I want you, Carey--when I'm +dead--to marry the woman you love, and give her happiness. Don't wait +for the sake of decency! That consideration never appealed to me. I say +it in her presence, that she may know it is my wish. Marry her, man--you +love each other--did you think I didn't know? And take her away to some +Utopia of your own, and--and--teach her--to forget me." + +His voice shook and ceased. His wife had slipped to her knees by the +bed, hiding her face. Carey sat mute and motionless, but the grim look +had passed from his face. It was almost tender. + +Gaspingly at length Coningsby spoke again: "Are you going to do it, +Carey? Are you going to give me your promise? I shall sleep the easier +for it." + +Carey turned to him and gripped one of the man's powerless hands in his +own. For a moment he did not speak--it almost seemed he could not. Then +at last, very low, but resolute his answer came: + +"I promise to do my part," he said. + +In the silence that followed he rose noiselessly and moved away. + +He left Naomi still kneeling beside the bed, and as he passed out he +heard the dying man speak her name. But what passed between them he +never knew. + +When he saw her again, nearly an hour later, Geoffrey Coningsby was +dead. + + +XI + +It was on a day of frosty sunshine, nearly a fortnight later, that Carey +dismounted before the door of Crooklands Manor, and asked for its +mistress. + +He was shown at once into the library, where he found her seated before +a great oak bureau with a litter of papers all around her. + +She flushed deeply as she rose to greet him. They had not met since the +day of her husband's funeral. + +"I see you're busy," he said, as he came forward. + +"Yes," she assented. "Such stacks of papers that must be examined before +they can be destroyed. It's dreary work, and I have been very thankful +to have Gwen with me. She has just gone out riding." + +"I met her," Carey said. "She was with young Rivers." + +"It is a farewell ride," Naomi told him. "She goes back to school +to-morrow. Dear child! I shall miss her. Please sit down!" + +The colour had ebbed from her face, leaving it very pale. She did not +look at Carey, but began slowly to sort afresh a pile of +correspondence. + +He ignored her request, and stood watching her till at last she laid the +packet down. + +Then somewhat abruptly he spoke: "I've just come in to tell you my +plans." + +"Yes?" She took up an old cheque-book, as if she could not bear to be +idle, and began to look through it, seeming to search for something. + +Again he fell silent, watching her. + +"Yes?" she repeated after a moment, bending a little over the book she +held. + +"They are very simple," he said quietly. "I'm going to a place I know of +in the Himalayas where there is a wonderful river that one can punt +along all day and all night, and never come to an end." + +Again he paused. The fingers that held the memorandum were not quite +steady. + +"And you have come to say good-bye?" she suggested in her deep, sad +voice. + +His eyes were turned gravely upon her, but there was a faint smile at +the corners of his mouth. + +"No," he said in his abrupt fashion. "That isn't in the plan. Good-bye +to the rest of the world if you will, but never again to you!" + +He drew close to her and gently took the cheque-book out of her grasp. + +"I want you to come with me, Naomi," he said very tenderly. "My darling, +will you come? I have wanted you--for years." + +A great quiver went through her, as though every pulse leapt to the +words he uttered. For a second she stood quite still, with her face +lifted to the sunlight. Then she turned, without question or words of +any sort, as she had turned long ago--yet with a difference--and laid +her hand with perfect confidence in his. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE RETURN GAME + + +I + +"Well played, Hone! Oh, well played indeed!" + +A great roar of applause went up from the polo-ground like the surge and +wash of an Atlantic roller. The regimental hero was distinguishing +himself--a state of affairs by no means unusual, for success always +followed Hone. His luck was proverbial in the regiment, as sure and as +deeply-rooted as his popularity. + +"It's the devil's own concoction," declared Teddy Duncombe, Major Hone's +warmest friend and admirer, who was watching from the great stand near +the refreshment-tent. "It never fails. We call him Achilles because he +always carries all before him." + +"Even Achilles had his vulnerable point," remarked Mrs. Perceval, to +whom the words were addressed. + +She spoke with her dark eyes fixed upon the distant figure. Seen from a +distance, he seemed to be indeed invincible--a magnificent horseman who +rode like a fury, yet checked and wheeled his pony with the skill of a +circus rider. But there was no admiration in Mrs. Perceval's intent +gaze. She looked merely critical. + +"Pat hasn't," replied Duncombe, whose love for Hone was no mean thing, +and who gloried in his Irish major's greatness. "He's a man in ten +thousand--the finest specimen of an imperfect article ever produced." + +His enthusiasm fell on barren ground. Mrs. Perceval was not apparently +bestowing much attention upon him. She was watching the play with brows +slightly drawn. + +Duncombe looked at her with faint surprise. She was not often +unappreciative, and he could not imagine any woman failing to admire +Hone. Besides, Mrs. Perceval and Hone were old friends, as everyone +knew. Was it not Hone who had escorted her to the East seven years ago +when she had left Home to join her elderly husband? By Jove, was it +really seven years since Perceval's beautiful young wife had taken them +all by storm? She looked a mere girl yet, though she had been three +years a widow. Small and dark and very regal was Nina Perceval, with the +hands and feet of a fairy and the carriage of a princess. He had seen +nothing of her during those last three years. She had been living a life +of retirement in the hills. But now she was going back to England and +was visiting her old haunts to bid her friends farewell. And Teddy +Duncombe found her as captivating as ever. She was more than beautiful. +She was positively dazzling. + +What a splendid pair she and Pat would make, Duncombe thought to himself +as he watched her. A man like Major Hone, V.C., ought to find a mate. +Every king should have a queen. + +The thought was still in his mind, possibly in his eyes also, when +abruptly Mrs. Perceval turned her head and caught him. + +"Taking notes, Captain Duncombe?" she asked, with a smile too careless +to be malicious. + +"Playing providence, Mrs. Perceval," he answered without embarrassment. + +He had never been embarrassed in her presence yet. She had a happy knack +of setting her friends at ease. + +"I hope you are preparing a kind fate for me," she said. + +He laughed a little. "What would you call a kind fate?" + +Her dark eyes flashed. She looked for a moment scornful. "Not the usual +woman's Utopia," she said. "I have been through that and come out on the +other side." + +"I can hardly believe it," protested Teddy. + +"Don't you know I am a cynic?" she said, with a little reckless laugh. + +A second wild shout from the spectators on all sides of them swept their +conversation away. On the further side of the ground Hone, with steady +wrist and faultless aim, had just sent the ball whizzing between the +posts. + +It was the end of the match, and Hone was once more the hero of the +hour. + +"Really, I sometimes think the gods are too kind to Major Hone," smiled +Mrs. Chester, the colonel's wife, and Mrs. Perceval's hostess. "It can't +be good for him to be always on the winning side." + +Hone was trotting quietly down the field, laughing all over his +handsome, sunburnt face at the cheers that greeted him. He dismounted +close to Mrs. Perceval, and was instantly seized by Duncombe and thumped +upon the back with all the force of his friend's goodwill. + +"Pat, old fellow, you're the finest sportsman in the Indian Empire. +Those chaps haven't been beaten for years." + +Hone laughed easily and swung himself free. "They've got some knowing +little brutes of ponies, by the powers," he said. "They slip about like +minnows. The Ace of Trumps was furious. Did you hear him squeal?" + +He turned with the words to his own pony and kissed the velvet nose that +was rubbing against his arm. + +"And a shame it is to make him carry a lively five tons," he murmured in +his caressing Irish brogue. + +For Hone was a giant as well as a hero and he carried his inches, as he +bore his honours, like a man. + +Raising his head, he encountered Mrs. Perceval's direct look. She bowed +to him with that regal air of hers that for all its graciousness yet +managed to impart a sense of remoteness to the man she thus honoured. + +"I have been admiring your luck, Major Hone," she said. "I am told you +are always lucky." + +He smiled courteously. + +"Sure, Mrs. Perceval, you can hardly expect me to plead guilty to that." + +"Anyway, you deserved your luck, Pat," declared Duncombe. "You played +superbly." + +"Major Hone excels in all games, I believe," said Mrs. Perceval. "He +seems to possess the secret of success." + +She spoke with obvious indifference; yet an odd look flashed across +Hone's brown face at the words. He almost winced. + +But he was quick to reply. "The secret of success," he said, "is to know +how to make the best of a beating." + +He was still smiling as he spoke. He met Mrs. Perceval's eyes with +baffling good-humour. + +"You speak from experience, of course?" she said. "You have proved it?" + +"Faith, that is another story," laughed Hone, hitching his pony's bridle +on his arm. "We live and learn, Mrs. Perceval. I have learnt it." + +And with that he bowed and passed on, every inch a soldier and to his +finger-tips a gentleman. + + +II + +"Hullo, Pat!" + +Teddy Duncombe, airily clad in pyjamas, stood a moment on the verandah +to peer in upon his major, then stepped into the room with the assurance +of one who had never yet found himself unwelcome. + +"Hullo, my son!" responded Hone, who, clad still more airily, was +exercising his great muscles with dumb-bells before plunging into his +morning tub. + +Duncombe seated himself to watch the operations with eyes of keen +appreciation. + +"By Jove," he said admiringly at length, "you are a mighty specimen! I +believe you'll live for ever." + +"Not on this plaguey little planet, let us trust!" said Hone, speaking +through his teeth by reason of his exertions. + +"You ought to marry," said Duncombe, still intently observant. "Giants +like you have no right to remain single in these degenerate days." + +"Faith!" scoffed Hone. "It's an age of feather-weights, and I'm out of +date entirely." + +He thumped down his dumb-bells, and stood up with arms outstretched. He +saw the open admiration in his friend's eyes, and laughed at it. + +But Duncombe remained serious. + +"Why don't you get married, Pat?" he said. + +Hone's arms slowly dropped. His brown face sobered. But the next instant +he smiled again. + +"Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly. + +"I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly. + +"The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is +she young, my son, and lovely?" + +"She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all +sincerity. + +"Faith!" laughed the Irishman. "But that's heartfelt! Why don't you +enter for the prize yourself?" + +"I'm going to marry little Lucy Fabian as soon as she will have me," +explained Duncombe. "We settled that ages ago, almost as soon as she +came out. It's not a formal engagement even yet, but she has promised to +bear it in mind. We had a talk last night, and--I believe I haven't much +longer to wait." + +"Good luck to you, dear fellow!" said Hone. "You deserve the best." He +laid his hand for a moment on Duncombe's shoulder. "It's been a good +partnership, Teddy boy," he said. "I shall miss you." + +Teddy gripped the hand hard. + +"You'll have to get married yourself, Pat," he declared urgently. "It +isn't good for man to live alone." + +"And so you are going to provide for my future also," laughed Hone. +"And the lady's name?" + +"Oh, she's an old friend!" said Duncombe. "Can't you guess?" + +Hone shook his head. + +"I can't imagine any old friend taking pity on me. Have you sounded her +feelings on the subject? Or perhaps she hasn't got any where I am +concerned." + +"Oh, yes, she has her feelings about you!" said Duncombe, with +confidence. "But I don't know what they are. She wasn't particularly +communicative on that point." + +"Or you, my son, were not particularly penetrating," suggested Hone. + +"I certainly didn't penetrate far," Duncombe confessed. "It was a case +of 'No admission to outsiders.' Still, I kept my eyes open on your +behalf; and the conclusion I arrived at was that, though reticent where +you were concerned, she was by no means indifferent." + +Hone stooped and picked up his dumb-bells once more. + +"Your conclusions are not always very convincing, Teddy," he remarked. + +Duncombe got to his feet in leisurely preparation for departure. + +"There was no mistake as to her reticence anyhow," he observed. "It was +the more conspicuous, as all the rest of us were yelling ourselves +hoarse in your honour. I was watching her, and she never moved her +lips, never even smiled. But her eyes saw no one else but you." + +Hone grunted a little. He was poising the dumb-bells at the full stretch +of his arms. + +Duncombe still loitered at the open window. + +"And her name is Nina Perceval," he said abruptly, shooting out the +words as though not quite certain of their reception. + +The dumb-bells crashed to the ground. Hone wheeled round. For a single +instant the Irish eyes flamed fiercely; but the next he had himself in +hand. + +"A pretty little plan, by the powers!" he said, forcing himself to speak +lightly. "But it won't work, my lad. I'm deeply grateful all the same." + +"Rats, man! She is sure to marry again." Duncombe spoke with deliberate +carelessness. He would not seem to be aware of that which his friend had +suppressed. + +"That may be," Hone said very quietly. "But she will never marry me. +And--faith, I'll be honest with you, Teddy, for the whole truth told is +better than a half-truth guessed--for her sake I shall never marry +another woman." + +He spoke with absolute steadiness, and he looked Duncombe full in the +eyes as he said it. + +A brief silence followed his statement; then impulsively Duncombe thrust +out his hand. + +"Hone, old chap, forgive me! I'm a headlong, blundering jackass!" + +"And the best friend a man ever had," said Hone gently. "It's an old +story, and I can't tell you all. It was just a game, you know; it began +in jest, but it ended in grim earnest, as some games do. It happened +that time we travelled out together, eight years ago. I was supposed to +be looking after her; but, faith, the monkey tricked me! I was a fool, +you see, Teddy." A faint smile crossed his face. "And she gave me an +elderly spinster to dance attendance upon while she amused herself. She +was only a child in those days. She couldn't have been twenty. I used to +call her the Princess, and I was St. Patrick to her. But the mischief +was that I thought her free, and--I made love to her." He paused a +moment. "Perhaps it's hardly fair to tell you this. But you're in love +yourself; you'll understand." + +"I understand," Duncombe said. + +"And she was such an innocent," Hone went on softly. "Faith, what an +innocent she was! Till one day she saw what had happened to me, and it +nearly broke her heart. For she hadn't meant any harm, bless her. It was +all a game with her, and she thought I was playing, too, till--till she +saw otherwise. Well, it all came to an end at last, and to save her from +grieving I pretended that I had known all along. I pretended that I had +trifled with her from start to finish. She didn't believe me at first, +but I made her--Heaven pity me!--I made her. And then she swore that she +would never forgive me. And she never has." + +Hone turned quietly away, and put the dumb-bells into a corner. Duncombe +remained motionless, watching him. + +"But she will, old chap," he said at last. "She will. Women do, you +know--when they understand." + +"Yes, I know," said Hone. "But she never can understand. I tricked her +too thoroughly for that." He faced round again, his grey eyes level and +very steady. + +"It's just my fate, Teddy," he said; "and I've got to put up with it. +However it may appear, the gods are not all-bountiful where I am +concerned. I may win everything in the world I turn my hand to, but I +have lost for ever the only thing I really want!" + + +III + +It was two days later that Mrs. Chester decided to give what she termed +a farewell _fête_ to all Nina Perceval's old friends. Nina had always +been a great favourite with her, and she was determined that the +function should be worthy of the occasion. + +To ensure success, she summoned Hone to her assistance. Hone always +assisted everybody, and it was well known that he invariably succeeded +in that to which he set his hand. And Hone, with native ingenuity, at +once suggested a water expedition by moonlight as far as the ruined +Hindu temple on the edge of the jungle that came down to the river at +that point. There was a spice of adventure about this that at once +caught Mrs. Chester's fancy. It was the very thing, she declared; a +water-picnic was so delightfully informal. They would cut for partners, +and row up the river in couples. + +To Nina Perceval the plan seemed slightly childish, but she veiled her +feelings from her friend as she veiled them from all the world; for very +soon it would be all over, sunk away in that grey, grey past into which +she would never look again. She even joined in conference with Mrs. +Chester and Hone over the details of the expedition, and if now and +then the Irishman's eyes rested upon her as though they read that which +she would fain have hidden, she never suffered herself to be +disconcerted thereby. + +When the party assembled on the eventful evening to settle the question +of partners, Hone was, as usual, in the forefront. The lots were drawn +under his management, not by his own choice, but because Mrs. Chester +insisted upon it. He presided over two packs of cards that had been +reduced to the number of guests. The men drew from one pack, the women +from the other; and thus everyone in the room was bound at length to +pair. + +Hone would have foregone this part of the entertainment, but the +colonel's wife was firm. + +"People never know how to arrange themselves," she declared. "And I +decline any responsibility of that sort. The Fates shall decide for us. +It will be infinitely more satisfactory in the end." + +And Hone could only bow to her ruling. + +Nina Perceval was the first to draw. Her card was the ace of hearts. She +slung it round her neck in accordance with Mrs. Chester's decree, and +sat down to await her destiny. + +It was some time in coming. One after another drew and paired in the +midst of much chaff and merriment; but she sat solitary in her corner +watching the pile of cards diminish while she remained unclaimed. + +"Most unusual!" declared Mrs. Chester. "Whom can the Fates be reserving +for you, I wonder?" + +Nina had no answer to make. She sat with her dark eyes fixed upon the +few cards that were left in front of Hone, not uttering a single word. +He sat motionless, too, Teddy Duncombe, who had paired with his hostess, +standing by his side. He was not looking in her direction, but by some +mysterious means she knew that his attention was focussed upon herself. +She was convinced in her secret soul that, though he hid his anxiety, he +was closely watching every card in the hope that he might ultimately +pair with her. + +The last man drew and found his partner. One card only was left in front +of Hone. He laid his hand upon it, paused for an instant, then turned it +up. The ace of hearts! + +She felt herself stiffen involuntarily, and something within her began +to pound and race like the hoofs of a galloping horse. A brief agitation +was hers, which she almost instantly subdued, but which left her +strangely cold. + +Hone had risen from the table. He came quietly to her side. There was no +visible elation about him. His grey eyes were essentially honest, but +they were deliberately emotionless at that moment. + +In the hubbub of voices all about them he bent and spoke. + +"It may not be the fate you would have chosen; but since submit we +must, shall we not make the best of it?" + +She met his look with the aloofness of utter disdain. + +"Your strategy was somewhat too apparent to be ascribed to Fate," she +said. "I cannot imagine why you took the trouble." + +A dark flush mounted under Hone's tan. He straightened himself abruptly, +and she was conscious of a moment's sharp misgiving that was strangely +akin to fear. Then, as he spoke no word, she rose and stood beside him, +erect and regal. + +"I submit," she said quietly; "not because I must, but because I do not +consider it worth while to do otherwise. The matter is too unimportant +for discussion." + +Hone made no rejoinder. He was staring straight before him, stern-eyed +and still. + +But a few moments later, he gravely proffered his arm, and in the midst +of a general move they went out together into the moonlit splendour of +the Indian night. + + +IV + +Slowly the boats slipped through the shallows by the bank. + +Hone sat facing his companion in unbroken silence while he rowed +steadily up the stream. But there was no longer anger in his steady +eyes. The habit of kindness, which was the growth of a lifetime, had +reasserted itself. He had not been created to fulfil a harsh destiny. +The chivalry at his heart condemned sternness towards a woman. + +And Nina Perceval sat in the stern with the moonlight shining in her +eyes and the darkness of a great bitterness in her soul, and waited. +Despite her proud bearing she would have given much to have looked into +his heart at that moment. Notwithstanding all her scorn of him very deep +down in her innermost being she was afraid. + +For this was the man who long ago, when she was scarcely more than a +child, had blinded her, baffled her, beaten her. He had won her trust, +and had used it contemptibly for his own despicable ends. He had turned +an innocent game into tragedy, and had gone his way, leaving her life +bruised and marred and bitter before it had ripened to maturity. He had +put out the sunshine for ever, and now he expected to be forgiven. + +But she would never forgive him. He had wounded her too cruelly, too +wantonly, for forgiveness. He had laid her pride too low. For even yet, +in all her furious hatred of him, she knew herself bound by a chain that +no effort of hers might break. Even yet she thrilled to the sound of +that soft, Irish voice, and was keenly, painfully aware of him when he +drew near. + +He did not know it, so she told herself over and over again. No one +knew, or ever would know. That advantage, at least, was hers, and she +would carry it to her grave. But yet she longed passionately, +vindictively, to punish him for the ruin he had wrought, to humble +him--this faultless knight, this regimental hero, at whose shrine +everybody worshipped--as he had once dared to humble her; to make him +care, if it were ever so little--only to make him care--and then to +trample him ruthlessly underfoot, as he had trampled her. + +She began to wonder how long he meant to maintain that uncompromising +silence. From across the water came the gay voices of their +fellow-guests, but no other boat was very near them. His face was in the +shadow, and she had no clue to his mood. + +For a while longer she endured his silence. Then at length she spoke: + +"Major Hone!" + +He started slightly, as one coming out of deep thought. + +"Why don't you make conversation?" she asked, with a little cynical +twist of the lips. "I thought you had a reputation for being +entertaining." + +"Will it entertain you if I ask for an apology?" said Hone. + +"An apology!" She repeated the words sharply, and then softly laughed. +"Yes, it will, very much." + +"And yet you owe me one," said Hone. + +"I fear I do not always pay my debts," she answered. "But you will find +it difficult to convince me on this occasion that the debt exists." + +"Faith, I shall not try!" he returned, with a doggedness that met and +overrode her scorn. "The game isn't worth the candle. I know you will +think ill of me in either case." + +"Why, Major Hone?" + +He met her eyes in the moonlight, and she felt as if by sheer force he +held them. + +"Because," he said slowly, "I have made it impossible for you to do +otherwise." + +"Surely that is no one's fault but your own?" she said. + +"I blame no one else," said Hone. + +And with that he bent again to his work as though he had been betrayed +into plainer speaking than he deemed advisable, and became silent again. + +Nina Perceval trailed her hand in the water and watched the ripples. +Those few words of his had influenced her strangely. She had almost for +the moment forgotten her enmity. But it returned upon her in the +silence. She began to remember those bitter years that stretched behind +her, the blind regrets with which he had filled her life--this man who +had tricked her, lied to her--ay, and almost broken her heart in those +far-off days of her girlhood, before she had learned to be cynical. + +"And even if I did believe you," she said, "what difference would it +make?" + +Hone was silent for a moment. Then--"Just all the difference in the +world," he said, his voice very low. + +"You value my good opinion so highly?" she laughed. "And yet you will +make no effort to secure it?" + +He turned his eyes upon her again. + +"I would move heaven and earth to win it," he said, and she knew by his +tone that he was putting strong restraint upon himself, "if there were +the smallest chance of my ever doing so. But I know my limitations; I +know it's all no good. Once a blackguard, always a blackguard, eh, Mrs. +Perceval? And I'd be a special sort of fool if I tried to persuade you +otherwise." + +But still she only laughed, in spite of the agitation but half-subdued +in his voice. + +"I would offer to steer," she remarked irrelevantly, "only I don't feel +equal to the responsibility. And since you always get there sooner or +later, my help would be superfluous." + +"You share the popular belief about my luck?" asked Hone. + +"To be sure," she answered gaily. "Even you could scarcely manage to +find fault with it." + +He drew a deep breath. "Not with you in the boat," he said. + +She withdrew her hand from the water, and flicked it in his face. + +"Hadn't you better slow down? You are getting overheated. I feel as if I +were sitting in front of a huge furnace." + +"And you object to it?" said Hone. + +"Of course I do. It's unseasonable. You Irish are so tropical." + +"It's only by contrast," urged Hone. "You will get acclimatised in +time." + +She raised her head with a dainty gesture. + +"You take a good deal for granted, Major Hone." + +"Faith, I know it!" he answered. "It's yourself that has turned my +head." + +Her laugh held more than a hint of scorn. + +"How amusing," she commented, "for both of us!" + +"Does it amuse you?" said Hone. + +The question did not call for a reply, and she made none. Only once more +she gathered up some water out of the magic moonlit ripples, and tossed +it in his face. + + +V + +They reached their destination far ahead of any of the others. A thick +belt of jungle stretched down to the river where they landed, enveloping +both banks a little higher up the stream. + +"What an awesome place!" remarked Mrs. Perceval, as she stepped ashore. +"I hope the rest will arrive soon, or I shall develop an attack of +nerves." + +"You've got me to take care of you," suggested Hone. + +She uttered her soft, little laugh. + +"Faith, Major Hone, and I'm not at all sure that it isn't yourself I +want to run away from!" + +Hone was securing the boat, and made no immediate response. But as he +straightened himself, he laughed also. + +"Am I so formidable, then?" + +She flashed a swift glance at him. + +"I haven't quite decided." + +"You have known me long enough," he protested. + +She shrugged her shoulders lightly. + +"Have I ever met you before to-night? I have no recollection of it." + +And mutely, with that chivalry which was to him the very air he +breathed, Hone bowed to her ruling. She would have no reference to the +past. It was to be a closed book to them both. So be it, then! For this +night, at least, she would have her way. + +He stepped forward in silence into the chequered shadow of the trees +that surrounded the ruin, and she walked lightly by his side with that +dainty, regal carriage of hers that made him yet in his secret heart +call her his princess. + +The place was very dark and eerie. The shrill cries of flying-foxes, +disturbed by their appearance, came through the magic silence. But no +living thing was to be seen, no other sound to be heard. + +"I'm frightened," said Nina suddenly. "Shall we stop?" + +"Hold my hand!" said Hone. + +"I'm not joking," she protested, with a shudder. + +"Nor am I," he said gently. + +She looked up at him sharply, as though she did not quite believe him, +and then unexpectedly and impulsively she laid her hand in his. + +His fingers closed upon it with a friendly, reassuring pressure, and she +never knew how the man's heart leapt and the blood turned to liquid fire +in his veins at her touch. + +She gave a shaky little laugh as though ashamed of her weakness. "We are +coming to an open space," she said. "We shall see the satyrs dancing +directly." + +"Faith, if we do, we'll join them," declared Hone cheerily. + +"They would never admit us," she answered. "They hate mortals. Can't you +feel them glaring at us from every tree? Why, I can breathe hostility in +the very air." + +She missed her footing as she spoke, and stumbled with a sharp cry. Hone +held her up with that steady strength of his that was ever equal to +emergencies, but to his surprise she sprang forward, pulling him with +her, almost before she had fully recovered her balance. + +"Oh, come, quick, quick!" she gasped. "I trod on something--something +that moved!" + +He went with her, for she would not be denied, and in a few seconds they +emerged into a narrow clearing in the jungle in which stood the ruin of +a small domed temple. + +Nina Perceval was shaking all over in a positive frenzy of fear, and +clinging fast to Hone's arm. + +"What was it?" he asked her, trying gently to disengage himself. "Was it +a snake that scared you?" + +She shuddered violently. "Yes, it must have been. A cobra, I should +think. Oh, what are you going to do?" + +"It's all right," Hone said soothingly. "You stay here a minute! I've +got some matches. I'll just go back a few yards and investigate." + +But at that she cried out so sharply that he thought for a moment that +something had hurt her. But the next instant he understood, and again +his heart leapt and strained within him like a chained thing. + +"No, Pat! No, no, no! You shall do no such thing!" Incoherently the +words rushed out, and with them the old familiar name, uttered all +unawares. "Do you think I'd let you go? Why, the place may be thronged +with snakes. And you--you have nothing to defend yourself with. How can +you dream of such a thing?" + +He heard her out with absolute patience. His face betrayed no sign of +the tumult within. It remained perfectly courteous and calm. Yet when he +spoke he, too, it seemed, had gone back to the old intimate days that +lay so far behind them. + +"Yes, but, Princess," he said, "what about our pals? If there is any +real danger we can't let them come stumbling into it. We'll have to warn +them." + +She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened. For an +instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something--was +it the expression in the man's steady eyes?--checked her. + +She stood a moment silent. Then, "You're quite right, Pat," she said, +her voice very low. "We'll go straight back to the boat and stop them." + +Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating. + +"You'll let me go first?" he said. "You stay here in the open! I'll come +back for you." + +But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated. "I won't!" she +declared vehemently. "I won't! Don't be so ridiculous! Of course I am +coming with you. Do you suppose I would let you go alone?" + +"Why not?" said Hone. + +He remembered later that she passed the question by. "We are wasting +time," she said, "Let us go!" + +And so together they went back into the danger that lurked in the +darkness. + + +VI + +They went side by side, for she would not let him take the lead. Her +hand was in his, and he knew by its convulsive pressure something of the +sheer panic that possessed her. And he marvelled at the power that +nerved her, though he held his peace. + +They entered the dense shadow of the strip of jungle that separated them +from the stream, and very soon he paused to strike a match. She stood +very close to him. He was aware that she was trembling in every limb. + +He peered about him, but could see very little beyond the fact that the +path ahead of them lay clear. On both sides of this the undergrowth +baffled all scrutiny. He seemed to hear a small mysterious rustling +sound, but his most minute attention failed to locate it. The match +burned down to his fingers, and he tossed it away. + +"There's nothing between us and the water," he said cheerily. "We'll +make a dash for it." + +"Stay!" she whispered, under her breath. "I heard something!" + +"It's only a bit of a breeze overhead," said Hone. "We won't stop to +listen anyway." + +He caught her hand in his once more, grasping it firmly, and they moved +forward again. They could see the moonlight glimmering on the water +ahead, and in another yard or two the low-growing bush to which Hone had +moored the boat became visible. + +In that instant, with a jerk of terror, Nina stopped short. "Pat! What +is that?" + +Hone stood still. "There! Don't be scared!" he said soothingly. "What +would it be at all? There's nothing but shadow." + +"But there is!" she gasped. "There is! There! On the bank above the +boat! What is it, Pat? What is it?" + +Hone's eyes followed her quivering finger, discerning what appeared to +be a blot of shadow close to the bush above the water. + +"Sure, it's only shadow--" he began. + +But she broke in feverishly. "It's not, Pat! It's not! There's nothing +to cast it. It's in the full moonlight." + +"You stay here!" said Hone. "I'll go and have a look." + +"I won't!" she rejoined in a fierce whisper, holding him fast. "You--you +shan't go a step nearer. We must get away somehow--somehow!" with a +hunted glance around. "Not through the undergrowth, that's certain. +We--we shall have to go back." + +Hone was still staring at the motionless blot in the moonlight. He +resisted her frantic efforts to drag him away. + +"I must go and see," he said at last. "I'm sure there's nothing to alarm +us. We can't run away from shadows, Princess. We should never hold up +our heads again." + +"Oh, Pat, you fool!" she exclaimed, almost beside herself. "I tell you +that is no shadow! It's a snake! Do you hear? It's a huge python! And it +was a snake I trod on just now. And they are everywhere--everywhere! The +whole place is rustling with them. They are closing in on us. I can hear +them! I can feel them! I can smell them! Pat, what shall we do? Quick, +quick! Think of something! See now! It's moving--uncoiling! Look, look! +Did you ever see anything so horrible? Pat!" + +Her voice ended in a breathless shriek. She suddenly collapsed against +him, her face hidden on his breast. And Hone, stooping impulsively, +caught her up in his arms. + +"We'll get out of it somehow," he said. "Never fear!" + +But even his eyes had widened with a certain horror, for the blot in the +moonlight was beyond question moving, elongating, quivering, subtly +changing under his gaze. + +He held his companion pressed tightly to his heart. She made no further +attempt to urge him. Only by the tense clinging of her arms about his +neck did he know that she was conscious. + +Again he heard that vague rustling which he had set down to a sudden +draught overhead. It seemed to come from all directions. + +"Ye gods!" he muttered softly to himself. And again, more softly, "Ye +gods!" + +To the woman in his arms he uttered no word whatever. He only pressed +the slender figure ever closer, while the blood surged and sang +tumultuously in his veins. Though he stood in the midst of mortal +danger, he was conscious of an exultation so mad as to be almost +delirious. She was his--his--his! + +Something stirred in the undergrowth close to him, and in a moment his +attention was diverted from the slow-moving monster ahead of him. He +became aware of a dark object, but vaguely discernible, that swayed to +and fro about three feet from the ground seeming to menace him. + +The moment he saw this thing, his brain flashed into sudden +illumination. The shrewdness of the hunted creature entered into him. +Without panic, he became most vividly, most intensely alive to the +ghastly danger that threatened him. He stopped to ascertain nothing +further. Swift as a lightning flash he acted--leapt backwards, leapt +sideways, landed upon something that squirmed and thrashed hideously, +nearly overthrowing him; and the next moment was breaking madly through +the undergrowth, regardless of direction, running blindly through the +jungle, fighting furiously every obstacle--forcing by sheer giant +strength a way for himself and for the woman he carried through the +opposing tangle of vegetation. + +Branches slapped him in the face as he went, clutched at him, tore him, +but could not stay his progress. Many times he stumbled, many times he +recovered himself, dashing wildly on and still on like a man possessed. +A marvellous strength was his. Titan-like, he accomplished that which to +any ordinary man would have been an utter impossibility. Save that he +was in perfect condition, even he must have failed. But that fact was +his salvation, that and the fierce passion that urged him, endowing him +with an endurance more than human. + +Headlong as was his flight, the working of his brain was even swifter, +and very soon, without slackening his speed, he was swerving round again +towards the open. He could see the moonlight gleaming through the trees, +and he made a dash for it, utterly reckless, since caution was of no +avail, but alert for every danger, cunning for every advantage, keen as +the born fighter for every chance that offered. + +And so at last, torn, bleeding, but undismayed, he struggled free from +the undergrowth, and sprang away from that place of horrors, staggering +slightly but running strongly still, till the dark line of jungle fell +away behind him and he reached the river bank once more. + +Here he stopped and loosened his grip upon the slight form he carried. +Her arms dropped from his neck. She had fainted. + +For a few seconds he stared down into her white face, seeing nothing +else, while the fiery heart of him leapt and quivered like a wild thing +in leash. Then, suddenly, from the water a voice hailed him, and he +looked up with a start. + +"Hullo, Pat! What on earth is the matter? You have landed the wrong side +of the stream. Is anything wrong?" + +It was Teddy Duncombe in a boat below him. He saw his face of concern in +the moonlight. + +He pulled himself together. + +"I was coming to warn you. This infernal jungle is full of snakes. We've +had to run for it, and leave the boat behind." + +"Great Scotland! And Mrs. Perceval?" + +Again Hone's eyes sought the white face on his arm. + +"No, she isn't hurt. It's just a faint. Pull up close, and I'll hand her +down to you!" + +Between them, they lowered her into the boat. Hone followed, and raised +her to lean against his knee. + +Duncombe began to row swiftly across the stream, with an uneasy eye upon +the two in the stern. + +"What in the world made you go wrong, I wonder?" he said. "No one ever +goes that side, not even the natives. They say it's haunted. We all +landed near the old bathing _ghat_." + +Hone was moistening Nina Perceval's face with his handkerchief. He made +no reply to Teddy's words. He was anxiously watching for some sign of +returning consciousness. + +It came very soon. The dark eyes opened and gazed up at him, at first +uncomprehendingly, then with a dawning wonder. + +"St. Patrick!" she whispered. + +"Princess!" he whispered back. + +With an effort she raised herself, leaning against him. + +"What happened? Were you hurt? Your face is all bleeding!" + +"It's nothing!" he said jerkily. "It's nothing!" + +She took his handkerchief in her trembling hand and wiped the blood +away. She said no more of any sort. Only when she gave it back to him +her eyes were full of tears. + +And Hone caught the little hand in passionate, dumb devotion, and +pressed it to his lips. + + +VII + +"I am so sorry, Major Hone, but she is seeing no one. I would ask you to +dine if it would be of any use. But you wouldn't see her if I did." + +So spoke the colonel's wife three days later in a sympathetic undertone; +while Hone paced beside her _rickshaw_ with a gloomy face. + +"She isn't ill?" he asked. "You are sure she isn't ill?" + +"No, not really ill. Her nerves are upset, of course. That was almost +inevitable. But she has determined to start for Bombay on Monday, and +nothing I can say will make her change her purpose." + +"But she can't mean to go without saying good-bye!" he protested. + +Mrs. Chester shook her head. + +"She says she doesn't like good-byes. I had the greatest difficulty in +persuading her to come here at all. I am afraid that is exactly what she +does mean to do." + +Hone stood still. His face was suddenly stubborn. + +"I must see her," he said, "with her consent or without it. Will you, of +your goodness, ask me to dine tonight? I will manage the rest for +myself." + +Mrs. Chester looked somewhat dubious. Long as she had known Hone, she +was not familiar with this mood. + +He saw her hesitation, and smiled upon her persuasively. + +"You are not going to refuse my petition? It isn't yourself that would +have the heart!" + +She laughed, in spite of herself. + +"Oh, go away, you wheedling Irishman! Yes, you may dine if you like. The +Gerrards are coming for bridge, and you'll be odd man out. There will be +no one to entertain you." + +"Sure, I can entertain myself," grinned Hone. "And it's truly grateful +that I am to your worshipful ladyship." + +He bowed, with his hand upon his heart, and, turning, went his way. + +Mrs. Chester went hers, still vaguely doubtful as to the wisdom of her +action. In common with the rest of mankind, she found Hone well-nigh +impossible to resist. + +When he made his appearance that evening, he presented an absolutely +serene aspect to the world at large. He was the gayest of the party, and +Mrs. Chester's uneasiness speedily evaporated. Nina Perceval was not +present, but this fact apparently did not depress him. He remained in +excellent spirits throughout dinner. + +When it was over, and the bridge players were established on the +veranda, he drifted off to the smoking-room in an aimless, inconsequent +fashion, and his hostess and accomplice saw him no more. + +She would have given a good deal to have witnessed his subsequent +movements, but she would have been considerably disappointed had she +done so, for Hone's methods were disconcertingly direct. All he did when +he found himself alone was to sit down and scribble a brief note. + +"I am waiting to see you" (so ran his message). "Will you come to me +now, or must I follow you to the world's end? One or the other it will +surely be.--Yours, PAT." + +This note he delivered to the _khitmutgar_, with orders to return to him +with a reply. Then, with a certain massive patience, he resumed his +cigar and settled himself to wait. + +The _khitmutgar_ did not return, but he showed no sign of exasperation. +His eyes stared gravely into space. There was not a shade of anxiety in +them. + +And it was thus that Nina Perceval found him when at last she came +lightly in from the veranda in answer to his message. She entered +without the smallest hesitation, but with that regal air of hers before +which men did involuntary homage. Her shadowy eyes met his without fear +or restraint of any sort, but they held no gladness either. Her +remoteness chilled him. + +"Why did you send me that extraordinary message?" she said. "Wasn't it a +little unnecessary?" + +He had risen to meet her. He paused to lay aside his cigar before he +answered, and in the pause that dogged expression that had surprised +Mrs. Chester descended like a mask and covered the first spontaneous +impulse to welcome her that had dominated him. + +"It was necessary that I should see you," he said. + +"I really don't know why," she returned. "I wrote a note to thank you +for the care you took of me the other night. That was days ago. I +suppose you received it?" + +"Yes, I received it," said Hone. "I have been trying, without success, +to see you ever since." + +She made a slight impatient movement. + +"I haven't seen any one. I was upset after that horrible adventure. I +shouldn't be seeing you now, only your ridiculous note made me wonder if +there was anything wrong. Is there?" + +She faced him with the direct inquiry. There was a faint frown between +her brows. Her delicate beauty possessed him like a charm. He felt his +blood begin to quicken, but he kept himself in check. + +"There is nothing wrong, Princess," he said steadily. "I am, as ever, +your humble servant, only I've got to come to the point with you before +you go. I've got to make the most of this shred of opportunity which you +have given me against your will. You are not disposed to be generous, I +see; but I appeal to your sense of justice. Is it fair play at all to +fling a man into gaol, and to refuse to let him plead on his own +behalf?" + +The annoyance passed like a shadow from her face. She began to smile. + +"What can you mean?" she said. "Is it a joke--a riddle? Am I supposed to +laugh?" + +"Heaven help me, no!" he said. "There is only one woman in the world +that I can't trifle with, and that's yourself." + +"Oh, but what an admission!" She laughed at him, softly mocking. "And +I'm so fond of trifling, too. Then what can you possibly want with me? I +suppose you have really called to say good-bye." + +"No," said Hone. He spoke quickly, and, as he spoke, he leaned towards +her. A deep glow had begun to smoulder in his eyes. "It's something else +that I've come to say--something quite different. I've come to tell you +that you are all the world to me, that I love you with all there is of +me, that I have always loved you. Yes, you'll laugh at me. You'll think +me mad. But if I don't take this chance of telling you, I'll never have +another. And even if it makes no difference at all to you, I'm bound to +let you know." + +He ceased. The fire that smouldered in his eyes had leaped to lurid +flame; but still he held himself in check, he subdued the racing madness +in his veins. He was, as ever, her humble servant. + +Perhaps she realized it, for she showed no sign of shrinking as she +stood before him. Her eyes grew a little wider and a little darker, that +was all. + +"I don't know what to say to you, Major Hone," she said, after a +moment. "I don't know even what you expect me to say, since you +expressly tell me that you are not trifling." + +"Faith!" he broke in impetuously. "And is it trifling I'd be with the +only woman I ever loved or ever wanted? I'm not asking you to flirt. I'm +asking a bigger thing of you than that. I'm asking you--Princess, I'm +asking you to stay--and be my wife." + +He drew nearer to her, but he made no attempt to touch her. Only the +flame of his passion seemed to reach her, to scorch her, for she made a +slight movement away from him. + +She looked at him doubtfully. "I still don't know what to say," she +said. + +His face altered. With a mighty effort he subdued the fiery impulse that +urged him to override her doubts and fears, to take and hold her in his +arms, to make her his with or without her will. + +He became in a trice the kindly, winning personality that all his world +knew and loved. "Sure then, you're not afraid of me?" he said, as though +he softly cajoled a child. "It wouldn't be yourself at all if you were, +you that could tread me underfoot like a centipede and not be a mite the +worse." + +She smiled a little, smiled and uttered a sudden quick sigh. "Don't you +think you are rather a fool, Pat?" she said. "I gave you credit for more +shrewdness. You certainly had more once." + +"What do you mean?" There was a sharp note of pain in Hone's voice. + +She moved restlessly across the room and paused with her back to him. +"None but a fool would conclude that because a woman is pretty she must +be good as well," she said, a tremor of bitterness in her voice. "Why do +you take it for granted in this headlong fashion that I am all that man +could desire?" + +"You are all that I want," he said. + +She shook her head. "The woman who lived inside me died long ago," she +said, "and a malicious spirit took her place." + +"None but yourself would ever dare to say that to me," said Hone. "And I +won't listen even to you. Princess--" + +"You are not to call me that!" She rounded upon him suddenly, a fierce +gleam in her eyes. "You must never--never--" + +She broke off. He was close to her, with that on his face that stilled +her protest. He gathered her to him with a tenderness that yet was +irresistible. + +"Sure, then," he whispered, with a whimsical humour that cloaked all +deeper feeling, "you shall be my queen instead, for by the saints I +swear that in some form or other I was created to be your slave." + +And though she averted her face and after a moment withdrew herself from +his arms, she raised no further protest. She suffered him to plant the +flag of his supremacy unhindered. + + +VIII + +Certainly the colonel's wife was in her element. A wedding in the +regiment, and that the wedding of its idolized hero, was to her an +affair of almost more importance than anything that had happened since +her own. The church had been fully decorated under her directions, and +she had turned it into as elegant a reception room as circumstances +permitted. White favours had been distributed to the dusky warriors +under Hone's command who lined the aisle. All was in readiness, from the +bridegroom, resplendent in scarlet and gold, waiting in the chancel with +Teddy Duncombe, the best man, to the buzzing guests who swarmed in at +the west door to be received by the colonel's wife, who in her capacity +of hostess seemed to be everywhere at once. + +"She was quite ready when I left, and looking sweet," so ran the story +to one after another. "Oh, yes, in her travelling dress, of course. That +had to be. But quite bridal--the palest silver grey. She looks quite +charming, and such a girl. No one would ever think--" and so on, to +innumerable acquaintances, ending where she had begun--"yes, she was +quite ready when I left, and looking sweet!" + +Ready or not, she was undoubtedly late, as is the recognised custom of +brides all the world over. The organist, who had been playing an +impressive selection, was drawing to the end of his resources and +beginning to improvise somewhat spasmodically. The bridegroom betrayed +no impatience, but there was undeniable strain in his attitude. He stood +stiff and motionless as a soldier on parade. The guests were commencing +to peer and wonder. Mrs. Chester made her tenth pilgrimage to the door. + +Ah! The carriage at last! She turned back with a beaming face, and +rustled up the aisle as though she were the heroine of the occasion. A +flutter of expectation went through the church. The organist plunged +abruptly into "The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden." + +Everyone rose. Everyone craned towards the door. The carriage, with its +flying favours, was stopping, had stopped. The colonel was seen +descending. + +He was looking very pale, whispered someone. Could anything be wrong? He +was not wont to suffer from nervousness. + +He did not turn to assist the bride. Surely that was strange! Nor did +she follow him. Surely--surely the carriage behind him was empty! + +Something indeed had happened. She must be ill! A great tremor went +through the waiting crowd. No one was singing, but the music pealed on +and on till some wild rumour of disaster reached the waiting chaplain, +and he stepped across the chancel and touched the organist's shoulder. + +Instantly silence fell--a terrible, nerve-racking silence. Colonel +Chester had entered. He stood just within the door, pale and stern, +whispering to the officer in charge of the men. People stared at him, at +each other, at the bridegroom still standing motionless by the chancel +steps. And then at last the silence broke into a murmur that spread and +spread. Something had happened! Something was wrong! No, the bride was +not ill. But there would be no wedding that day. + +Someone came hurriedly and spoke to Teddy Duncombe, who turned first +crimson, then very white, and finally pulled himself together with a +jerk and went to Hone. Everyone craned to see what would happen--how the +news would affect him, whether he would be deeply shocked, or +whether--whether--ah! A great sigh went through the church. He did not +seem startled or even greatly dismayed. He listened to Duncombe gravely, +but without any visible discomfiture. There could not be anything very +serious the matter, then. A note was put into his hand, which he read +with absolute calmness under the eyes of the multitude. + +When he looked up from it, the colonel had reached his side. They +exchanged a few words, and then Hone, smiling faintly, beckoned to the +chaplain. He rested a hand on his shoulder in his careless, friendly +way, and spoke into his ear. + +The chaplain looked deeply concerned, nodded once or twice, and, +straightening himself, faced the crowd of guests. + +"I am requested to state," he announced in the midst of dead silence, +"that, owing to a most regrettable and unforeseen mischance, the happy +event which we are gathered here to celebrate must be unavoidably +postponed. The bride has just received an urgent summons to England on a +matter of the first importance, which she feels compelled to obey, and +she is already on her way to Bombay in the hope of catching the steamer +which will sail to-morrow. It only remains for me to express deep +sympathy, in which I am sure all present join me, with our friend Major +Hone and his bride-elect on their disappointment, and the sincere hope +that their happy union may not long be deferred." + +He ended with a doubtful glance at Hone, who, standing on the chancel +steps, bowed briefly, and, taking Duncombe by the shoulder, marched with +him into the vestry. He certainly did not look in the least disconcerted +or anxious. It could not be anything really serious. A feeling of relief +lightened the atmosphere. People began to talk, to speculate, even to +enjoy the sensation. Poor Hone! He was not often unlucky. But, of +course, it would be all right. He would probably follow his bride to +England, and they would be married there. Doubtless that was his +intention, or he could not have looked so undismayed. + +So ran the tide of gossip and surmise. And in Hone's pocket lay the +twisted note which the woman he loved had left behind--the note which he +had read with an unmoved countenance under a host of watching eyes. + +"Good-bye, St. Patrick! It has been an amusing game, has it not? Do you +remember how you beat me once long ago? I was but a child in those days. +I did not know the rules of the game, and so you had the advantage. But +you could not hope to have it always. It is my turn now, and I think I +may claim the return match for my own. So good-bye, Achilles! Perhaps +the gods will send you better luck next time. Who knows?" + +No eye but Hone's ever read that heartless note, and his but once. Half +an hour after he had received it, it lay in ashes, but every word of it +was graven deep upon his brain. + + +IX + +It was in the early hours of the morning that Nina Perceval reached +Bombay. + +She had sat wide-eyed and motionless all through the night. She had felt +no desire to sleep. An intense horror of her surroundings seemed to +possess her. She was like a hunted creature seeking to escape from a +world of horrors. She would know no rest till she reached the sea, till +she was speeding away over the glittering water, and the land--that land +which had become more hateful to her than any prison--was left far +behind. + +She had played her game, she had sped her shaft, and now panic--sheer, +unreasoning panic--filled her. She was terrified at what she had done, +too terrified yet for coherent thought. She had taken her revenge at +last. She had pierced her conqueror to the heart. As he had once laughed +at her, as he had once, with a smile and a jest, broken and tossed her +aside--so she had done to him. She had gathered up her wounded pride, +and she had smitten him therewith. She was convinced that he would never +laugh at her again. + +He would get over it, of course; men always did. She had known men by +the score who played the same merry game, men who broke hearts for +sport and went their careless ways, unheeding, uncomprehending. It was +the way of the world, this world of countless tragedies. She had +learned, in her piteous cynicism, to look for nothing else. Faithfulness +had become to her a myth. Surely all men loved--they called it love--and +rode away. + +No, she did not flatter herself that she had hurt him very seriously. +She had dealt his pride a blow, that was all. + +She reached Bombay, and secured her berth. The steamer was to sail at +noon. There were not a great many passengers, and she managed to engage +a cabin to herself. But she could not even attempt to rest in that +turmoil of noise and excitement. She went ashore again, and repaired to +a hotel for a meal. She took a private room, and lay down; but sleep +would not come to her, and presently, urged by that gnawing +restlessness, she was pacing up and down, up and down, like a wild +creature newly caged. + +Sometimes she paused at the window to stare down into the busy +thoroughfare below, but she never paused for long. The fever that +consumed her gave her no rest, and again she was pacing to and fro, to +and fro, eternally, counting the leaden minutes that crept by so slowly. + +At last, when flesh and blood could endure no longer, she snatched up +her hat and veil, and prepared to go on board. Standing before a mirror, +she began to adjust these with trembling fingers, but suddenly stopped +dead, gazing speechlessly before her. For her own eyes had inadvertently +met the eyes of the haggard woman in the glass, and dumbly, with a new +horror clutching at her heart, she stared into their wild depths and +read as in a book the tale of torture that they held. + +When she turned away at length, she was shivering from head to foot as +though she had seen a spectre; and so in truth she had. For those eyes +had told her what she had not otherwise begun to realise. + +That which she had believed dead for so long had been, only dormant, and +had sprung to sudden, burning life. The weapon with which she had +thought to pierce her enemy had turned in her grasp and pierced her +also, pierced her with an agony unspeakable--ay, pierced her to the +heart. + + +X + +As one in a dream she stood on deck and watched India slipping below the +horizon. Her restlessness was subsiding at last. She was conscious of an +intense weariness, greater than any she had ever known. As soon as that +distant line of land had disappeared she told herself that she would go +and rest. Her fellow passengers had for the most part settled down. They +sat about in groups under the awning. A few, like herself, stood at the +rail and gazed astern, but there was no one very near her. She felt as +if she stood utterly alone in all the world. + +Slowly at last she turned away. Slowly she crossed the deck and began to +descend the companion. A knot of people stood talking at the foot. They +made way for her to pass. She went through them without a glance. She +scarcely even saw them. + +She went to her cabin and lay down, but she knew at once that sleep +would not come to her. Her eyes burned as though weighted with many +scalding tears, but she could not weep. She could only lie staring +vaguely before her, and dumbly endure that suffering which she had +vainly fancied could never again be her portion. She could only +strive--and strive in vain--to shut out the vision of the man she loved +standing alone at the altar waiting for the woman who had played him +false. + +The dinner hour approached. Mechanically she rose and dressed. She did +not shrink from meeting the eyes of strangers. They simply did not exist +for her. She took her place in the great dining saloon, looking neither +to right nor left. The buzz of conversation all around her passed her +by. She might have been sitting in utter solitude. And all the while the +misery gnawed ever deeper into her heart. + +She rose at last, before the meal was ended, and went up to the great +empty deck. She felt as if she would stifle below. But, up above, the +wash of the sea and the immensity of the night soothed her somewhat. She +found a secluded corner, and leaned upon the rail, gazing out over the +black waste of water. + +What was he doing, she wondered. How was he spending this second night +of misery? Had he begun to console himself already? She tried to think +so, but failed--failed utterly. + +Irresistibly the memory of the man swept over her, his gentleness, his +chivalry, his unfailing kindness. She was beginning to see the whole +bitter tragedy by the light of her repentance. He had loved her, surely +he had loved her in those old days when she had tricked him in sheer, +childish gaiety of soul. And, for her sake, that her suffering might be +the briefer, he had masked his love. She had never thought so before, +but she saw it clearly now. + +It had all been a miserable misunderstanding from beginning to end, but +she was sure, now, that he had loved her faithfully for all those years. +And if it were against all reason to think so, if all her experience +told her that men were not moulded thus, had not his chosen friend +declared him to be one in ten thousand, and did not her quivering +woman's heart know him to be such? Ah, what had she done? What had she +done? + +"Oh, Pat!" she sobbed. "Pat! Pat! Pat!" + +The great idol of her pride had fallen at last, and she wept her heart +out up there in the darkness, till physical exhaustion finally overcame +her, and she could weep no more. + + +XI + +"Won't you sit down?" a quiet voice said. + +She started out of what was almost a stupor of grief, to find a man's +figure standing close to her. Her eyes were all blinded by weeping, and +she could see him but vaguely in the dimness. She had not heard him +approach. He seemed to appear from nowhere. Or had he, perchance, been +near her all the time? + +Instinctively she drew a little away from him, though in that moment of +utter desolation even the sympathy of a stranger sent a faint warmth of +comfort to her heart. + +"There is a chair here," the quiet voice went on, and as she turned +vaguely, almost as though feeling her way, a steady hand closed upon her +elbow and guided her. + +Perhaps it was the touch that, like the shock of an electric current, +sent the blood suddenly tingling through her veins, or it may have been +some influence more subtle. She was yielding half-mechanically when +suddenly, piercing her through and through, there came to her such a +flash of revelation as almost deprived her for the moment of her +senses. + +She stood stock still and faced him. + +"Oh, who is it?" she cried piteously. "Who is it?" + +The hand that held her tightened ever so slightly. He did not instantly +reply, but when he did, it was on a note of grimness that she had never +heard from him before. + +"It is I--Pat," he told her. "Have you any objection?" + +She gazed at him speechlessly as one in a dream. He had followed her, +then; he had followed her! But wherefore? + +She began to tremble in the grip of sudden, overmastering fear. This was +the last thing she had anticipated. What could it mean? Had she driven +him demented? Had he pursued her to wreak his vengeance upon her, +perhaps to kill her? + +Compelled by the pressure of his hand, she moved to the dark seat he had +indicated, and sank down. + +He stood beside her, looming large in the gloom. A terrible silence fell +between them. Worn out by sleeplessness and bitter weeping, she cowered +before him dumbly. She had no pride left, no weapon of any sort +wherewith to resist him. She longed, yet dreaded unspeakably, to hear +his voice. He was watching her, she knew, though she did not dare to +raise her head. + +He spoke at last, quietly, without emotion, yet with that in his +deliberate utterance that made her shrink and quiver in every nerve. + +"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't +beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play +to a finish before we decide who scoops the pool." + +"What do you mean?" she whispered. + +He did not answer her, and she thought there was something contemptuous +in his silence. + +She waited a little, summoning her strength, then, rising, with a +desperate courage she faced him. + +"I don't understand you. Tell me what you mean!" + +He made a curious gesture as if he would push her from him. + +"I am not good at explaining myself," he said. "But you will understand +me better presently." + +And again inexplicably she shrank. There was that about him which +terrified her more than any uttered menace. + +"What are you going to do?" she said nervously. "Why--why have you +followed me?" + +He answered her in a tone which she deemed scoffing. It was too dark for +her to see his face. + +"You can hardly expect me to show my hand at this stage," he said. "You +never showed me yours." + +It was true, and she found no word to say against it. But none the less, +she was horribly afraid. She felt herself to be utterly at his mercy, +and was instinctively aware that he was in no mood to spare her. + +"I can't go on playing, Pat," she said, after a moment, her voice very +low. "I have no cards left to play." + +"In that case you are beaten," he said, with that doggedness which she +was beginning to know as a part of his fighting equipment. "Do you own +it?" + +She hesitated. + +"Do you own it?" he insisted sternly. + +And, yielding to a sudden impulse that overwhelmed all reason, she threw +herself unreservedly upon his mercy. + +"Yes, I own it." + +He stood silent for several seconds after the admission, while she +waited with a thumping heart. At last, half-grudgingly it seemed to her, +he spoke. + +"You are a wise woman," he said, "even wiser than I took you for, which +is saying much. The game is ended, then. But you will pardon me if I +refuse to surrender my winnings. Such as they are, I value them." + +She bent her head. Her subjection was complete. She was too exhausted, +physically and mentally, to attempt to withstand him, and undoubtedly +the ultimate victory was his. Had he not witnessed those agonizing +tears? + +"You are welcome to anything you can find," she said, smiling wanly. "I +suppose all experience is of value. At least, I used to think so." + +Again for a moment he was silent. Then: "It is the most valuable thing +in the world," he said, "if you know how to turn it to account. But, +sure, that is a lesson that some of us are slow to learn." + +He paused; then, as she remained silent, "You are going below to rest?" +he said. "Don't let me keep you! You have travelled hard, and need it." + +There was a hint of the old kindliness in his tone. She stood listening +to it, longing, yet not daring to avail herself of it and make her peace +with him. + +But, whatever his intentions, it was apparently no part of Hone's plan +to allow himself to be conciliated at that stage, for, after the +briefest pause, he bowed abruptly and stepped aside. + +And Nina Perceval went humbly away, as befitted one who had played a +desperate game, and had been outwitted by the adversary she had dared to +despise. + + +XII + +During the whole three weeks of the voyage Hone took no further action. + +Nina saw him every day of those interminable weeks, but he made no sign. +He did not seek her out, neither did he avoid her, but continually he +mystified her by the cheery indifference of his bearing. + +He became--as was almost inevitable--an immense favourite on board. He +was in the thick of every amusement, and no entertainment was complete +without him. No rumour of the extraordinary circumstances that had led +to his undertaking the voyage had reached their fellow passengers. No +one suspected that anything unusual existed between the winning, +frank-faced Irishman and the silent young widow who so seldom looked his +way. No one had heard of the wedding party that had lacked a bride. + +But everyone welcomed Hone, V.C., as a tremendous acquisition, and Hone, +V.C., laughed his humorous, good-tempered laugh, and placed himself +unreservedly and impartially at everyone's disposal. + +Nina never saw him in private. In public he treated her with the kindly +courtesy he extended to every woman on board. There was not in his +manner the faintest hint of anything deeper. He would laugh into her +eyes with absolute friendliness. And yet from the depths of her soul she +feared him. She knew that he was continuing the game that she had +wantonly begun. She knew that there was more to come, that he had not +done with her, that he was merely waiting, as an experienced player +knows how to wait, till the time arrived to play his final card. + +What that final card could be she had not the remotest idea, but she +awaited it with an almost morbid sense of dread. His very forbearance +seemed ominous. + +On the night before their arrival there was a dance on board. Nina, who +had not joined in any of these gaieties for the simple reason that she +had no heart for them, rose from dinner with the intention of going to +her cabin. But as she passed out of the saloon, Hone stepped forward and +intercepted her. + +"Will you give me a dance, Mrs. Perceval?" + +She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with an effort. + +"I am not dancing," she said. + +"Just one," he pleaded, with that air of gallantry that cloaked she knew +not what. + +She hesitated, and then, almost in spite of herself, with something of +the old regal graciousness, she yielded. + +"Just one, then, Major Hone, since to-morrow it will be good-bye." + +He thanked her with a deep bow, and promptly led her away. + +They danced the first waltz together in unbroken silence. Nina kept her +face studiously turned over her shoulder. Not once did she glance at her +partner, whose quiet dancing and steady arm told her nothing. + +When it was over, he led her to a seat in full view of the other +dancers, and sat down beside her. For a few seconds he maintained his +silence, then quietly he turned and spoke. + +"Are you going to stay in London?" + +The direct question surprised her. Somehow, though he had given her +small reason to do so, she had come to expect naught but subtle strategy +from him. + +"I shall spend one night there," she said, after a moment's thought. + +"No longer?" + +She faced him calmly, though her heart had begun to leap and race within +her. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Why don't you answer?" said Hone. + +He was smiling faintly, but there was determination in the set of his +jaw. + +"Because," she said slowly, "I am not sure that I want you to know." + +"Why not?" said Hone. She shook her head in silence. "It's sorry I am to +hear it," he said, after a brief pause. "For if it's to be a game of +hide-and-seek I shall soon run you to earth." + +She raised her eyebrows. Had they been alone together she knew that she +could not have disguised her fear. It had grown upon her marvellously of +late. But the publicity of their intercourse endued her with a certain +courage. + +"What is it that you want of me?" she said. + +He met her eyes with absolute steadiness. + +"I will tell you," he said, "the next time we meet." + +She tried to laugh to hide the wild tumult his words stirred up. + +"Is that a promise?" + +"My solemn bond," said Hone. + +She rose. + +"I shall stay at the Seton Ward Hotel for a week," she said. +"Good-night!" + +He rose also; they stood for a moment face to face. + +"Alone?" he asked. + +And again, with a reckless sense of throwing herself upon his mercy, she +made brief reply. + +"I haven't a friend in the world." + +He gave her his arm. + +"Any enemies?" he asked. + +They were at the door before she answered. + +"Yes--one." + +For an instant his arm grew tense, detaining her. + +"And that?" he questioned. + +She withdrew her hand sharply. + +"Myself," she said, and swiftly, without another glance, she left him. + + +XIII + +The roar of the London traffic rose muffled through the London fog. It +was a winter afternoon of great murkiness. + +In the private sitting-room of a private hotel Nina Perceval sat alone, +as she had sat for two dragging, intolerable days, and waited. She had +begun to ask herself--she had asked herself many times that day--if she +waited in vain. She would remain for the week, whatever happened, but +the torture of suspense had become such as she scarcely knew how to +endure. Something of the fever of restlessness that had tormented her at +Bombay was upon her now, but with it, subtly mingled, was a misery of +uncertainty that had not gripped her then. She was unspeakably lonely, +and at certain panic-stricken times unspeakably afraid; but whether it +was the possibility of his presence or the certainty of his continued +absence that appalled her, she could not have said. + +A fire burned with a cheery crackling in the room, throwing weird +shadows through the dimness. Yet she shivered from time to time as +though the chill of the London fog penetrated to her bones. Ah! what was +that? She startled violently at the sound of a low knock at the door, +then hastily commanded herself. It was only a waiter with the tea she +had ordered, of course. With her back to the door she bade him enter. + +But, though the door opened and someone entered, there came no jingle of +tea things. She did not turn her head. It was as though she could not. +She was as one turned to stone. She thought that the wild throbbing of +her heart would choke her. + +He came straight to her and stood beside her, not offering to touch so +much as her hand. The red firelight beat upwards on his face. She +ventured a single glance at him, and was oddly shocked by the look he +wore. Something of the red glow on the hearth shone back at her from his +eyes. She did not dare to look again. Yet when he spoke, though he +uttered no greeting, his voice was quite normal, wholly free from +agitation. + +"I should have been here sooner, but I was scouring London for an old +friend. I have found him at last, but, faith, I've had a chase. Do you +remember Jasper Caldicott, the parson who went out with us on the +_Scindia_ eight years ago?" + +"Yes, I remember him." She spoke with a strong effort. Her lips felt +stiff and cold. + +"He has a parish Whitechapel way," said Hone. "I only found him out this +morning. I wanted to bring him to see you." + +"Yes?" At his abrupt pause she moved slightly. "But he wouldn't come?" + +"He will come some day," said Hone. "But he had some scruple about +accompanying me there and then, as I wished. In fact, he wants you to +visit him instead." + +"Yes?" She almost whispered the word. She was holding the mantelpiece +with both hands to steady her trembling limbs. + +"Sure, there's nothing to alarm you at all," Hone said. "It'll soon be +over. He wants you to do him the honour of being married in his church +and there's a taxi below waiting to take you." + +"Now?" She turned and faced him, white to the lips. + +"Yes, now! By special licence." Sternly he made reply, and again she +felt as though the fire in his eyes scorched her. + +"And if I--refuse?" She stood up to her full height, flinging her fear +from her with a royal gesture that was almost a challenge. + +But Hone was ready for her. Hone, the gentle, the kind, the chivalrous, +stepped suddenly forth from his garden of virtues with level lance to +meet her. + +"By the powers," he said, and the words came from between his teeth, "I +wonder you dare to ask me that!" + +She laughed, but her laughter was slightly hysterical, and in an instant +he seized and pressed his advantage. + +"It is the end of the game," he grimly told her. "And you are beaten. +You told me once that you didn't always pay your debts. But, by Heaven, +you shall pay this one!" + +By sheer weight he beat down her resistance. Against her will, in spite +of her utmost effort, she gave way before him. + +A moment she stood in silence. Then, "So be it!" she said, and, turning, +left him. + +When she joined him again she was so thickly veiled that he could not +see her face. She preceded him without a word into the lift, and they +went down in utter silence to the waiting taxi. Then side by side +through the gloom as though they travelled through space, a myriad +lights twinkling all about them, the rush and roar of a universe in +their ears, but they two alone in an atmosphere that none other +breathed. + +It was a journey that neither ever afterwards calculated by time. It was +incalculable as the flight of a meteor. And when at last it came to an +end, for an instant neither moved. + +Then, as though emerging from a dream, Hone rose and alighted, and +turned to give his hand to his companion. A little group of ragged +urchins stood to view upon the muddy pavement. There was no other pomp +to attend the coming of a bride. + +Silently they entered a church that was lighted from end to end for +evening service. They passed up the aisle through a haze of fog. They +halted at the chancel steps.... + +The knot of urchins had grown to a considerable crowd when they emerged. +Women and half-grown girls jostled each other for a glimpse of the +bride. But the utmost that any saw was a slender figure wearing a thick +veil that walked a little apart from the bridegroom, and entered the +waiting motor unassisted. + + +XIV + +Back once more in the room where the fire crackled, newly replenished, +and electric light revealed a shining tea-table, Hone turned to the +silent woman beside him. + +"Can I write a message? I promised to send one to Teddy as soon as we +were married." + +She pointed to the writing-table; and moved herself to the fire. There +she stood for a few seconds quite motionless, seeming to listen to the +scratching of his pen. + +He ceased to write, and turned in his chair. For a moment his eyes +rested upon her. + +"Take off your hat!" he said. + +She obeyed him in utter silence. Her hands were stiff and numb with +cold. She stooped, the firelight shining on her hair, and held them to +the blaze. + +Hone rose quietly, and came to her side. He held his message for her to +read, and she did so silently. + +"Just married. All well. Love.--PAT." + +"Will it do?" he said. + +She glanced up at him and shivered. + +"Is all well?" she asked, in a tone that demanded no answer. + +He made none, merely rang the bell and gave orders for the despatch of +the message. + +Then he came quietly back to her. They stood face to face. She was quite +erect, but pale to the lips. She stood before him as a prisoner awaiting +sentence, too proud to ask for mercy. + +Hone paused a few moments, as if to give her time to speak, to challenge +him, to make her defence, or to plead her weakness. Then, as she did +none of these things, he suddenly laid steady hands upon her, drew her +to him, and, bending, looked closely into her eyes. + +"And is there any reason at all why I should not take what is my own?" +he said. + +She did not resist him, but a long shiver went through her. + +"Are you sure it is worth the taking?" she said. + +"Quite sure," he answered quietly. "Shall I tell you how I know?" + +Her eyes sank before his. + +"You will do exactly as you choose." + +He was silent for an instant, still intently searching her white face. +Then: + +"Do you remember that night that you fainted in my arms?" he said. "Do +you remember opening your eyes in the boat? Do you know--can you +guess--what your eyes told me?" + +She was silent; only again from head to foot she shivered. + +He went on very quietly, as one absolutely sure of himself: + +"I looked into your soul that night, and I saw your secret hidden away +in its darkest corner. And I knew it had been there for a long, long +time. I knew from that moment that, hate me as you might, you were mine, +as I have been yours for so long as I have known you." + +She raised her eyes suddenly, stiffening in his grasp. + +"And you expect me to believe that of you?" she said, a tremor that was +not of fear, in her voice. + +"You do believe it," he answered with conviction. + +She raised her hands with something of her old imperious grace, and laid +them on his arms, freeing herself with a single gesture. + +"And all those years ago," she said, "when you made me believe you had +been trifling with me--" + +"I lied!" said Hone. "It was the hardest thing I ever did. But something +had to be done. I did it to save you suffering." + +She turned abruptly from him, moving blindly, till groping, she found +the mantelpiece, and leaned upon it. Then, her back to him, she spoke: + +"And you succeeded in breaking my heart." + +A sudden silence fell. Hone stood motionless, his hands fallen to his +sides. The dull roar of the streets beat up through the stillness like +the roar of a distant sea, bringing to mind a night long, long ago when +first he had met his little princess, when first the gay charm of her +personality had been cast upon him. + +With a resolute effort he spoke. + +"But you were scarcely more than a child," he said. "It--sure, it +couldn't have been as bad as that?" + +At the sound of the pain in his voice she slowly turned. + +"It was much worse than that," she said. "While it lasted, it was +intolerable. There were times when I thought it would drive me crazy. +But you--you were always there, and I think the sight of you kept me +sane. I hated you so. I had to show you that I didn't care." + +Again he heard in her voice that tremor that was not of fear. + +"As long as my husband lived," she went on, "I kept up the miserable +farce. As you know, we never loved each other. Then he died, and I found +I couldn't bear it any longer. There was no reason why I should. I went +away. I should never have seen you again, only Mrs. Chester would take +no refusal. And I had put it all away from me by that time. I felt it +did not greatly matter if we did meet. Nothing seemed of much importance +till that day I saw you on the polo ground, carrying all before +you--Achilles triumphant! That day I began to hate you again." A faint +smile drew the corners of her mouth. "I think you suspected it," she +said, "but your suspicions were soon lulled to rest. Did it never cross +your mind to wonder how we came to pair on that night of the river +picnic? I accused you of cheating, do you remember? And you were quite +indignant." A glimmer of the old gay mischief shone for a fleeting +second through her tragedy. "That was the first move in the game," she +said. "At least you never suspected me of that." + +"No; you had me there." There was a ring of sternness in Hone's voice. +"So that was the beginning?" he said. + +She nodded. + +"And it would have been the end also, if you would have suffered it. For +that very night I ceased to hate you." A faint flush tinged her pale +face. "I would have let you off," she said. "I didn't want to go on. But +you would not have it so. You came after me. You wouldn't leave me +alone, even though I warned you--I warned you that I wasn't worth your +devotion. And so"--again her voice trembled--"you had to have your +lesson after all." + +"And do you know what it has taught me?" + +Again there sounded in his voice that new mastery that had so strangely +overwhelmed her. + +She shrank a little as it reached her, and turned her face aside. "I can +guess," she said. + +"And is it good at guessing that you are?" + +He drew nearer to her with the words, but he did not offer to touch her. + +She stood motionless, her head bent lest he should see, and understand, +the piteous quivering of her lips. With immense effort she made reply: + +"It has taught you to hate and despise me, as--as I deserve." + +"Faith!" he said. "You think that--honestly now?" + +The mastery had all gone out of his voice. It was soft with that +caressing quality she knew of old--that tenderness, half-humorous, +half-persuasive, that had won her heart so long, so long ago. She did +not answer him--for she could not. + +He waited for the space of a score of seconds, standing close to her, +yet still not touching her, looking down in silence at the proud dark +head abased before him. + +At last: "It's myself that'll have to tell you, after all," he said +gently, "for sure it's the only way to make you understand. It's taught +me that we can both be winners, dear, if we play the game squarely, just +as we have both been losers all these weary years. But we will have to +be partners from this day forward. So just put your little hand in mine, +and it'll be all right, mavourneen! Pat'll understand!" + +She moved at that--moved sharply, convulsively, passionately. For a +moment her eyes met his; for a moment she seemed on the verge of amazed +questioning, even of vehement protest. + +But--perhaps the grey eyes that looked straight and steadfast into her +own made speech seem unnecessary--for she only whispered, "St. +Patrick!" in a voice that trembled and broke. + +And "Princess! My Princess!" was all he answered as he took her into his +arms. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13553 *** diff --git a/13553-h/13553-h.htm b/13553-h/13553-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f2e452 --- /dev/null +++ b/13553-h/13553-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10303 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Tidal Wave and Other Stories, by Ethel May Dell</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + hr.full { width: 100%; + height: 5px; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 9pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13553 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Tidal Wave and Other Stories, by Ethel +May Dell</h1> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>THE +TIDAL WAVE +AND OTHER STORIES</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ETHEL M. DELL</h2> + +<h6>AUTHOR OF +THE LAMP IN THE DESERT, +THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE, +GREATHEART, ETC.</h6> +<br /> + +<h6>1919</h6> +<br /> + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>BY ETHEL M. DELL +</p> +<br /> + +<ul style="list-style-type: none;"><li>The Way of an Eagle</li> +<li>The Knave of Diamonds</li> +<li>The Rocks of Valpré</li> +<li>The Swindler</li> +<li>The Keeper of the Door</li> +<li>Bars of Iron</li> +<li>Rosa Mundi</li> +<li>The Hundredth Chance</li> +<li>The Safety Curtain</li> +<li>Greatheart</li> +<li>The Lamp in the Desert</li> +<li>The Tidal Wave</li> +<li>The Top of the World</li> +<li>The Obstacle Race</li></ul> +<br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + +<p>ACKNOWLEDGMENT</p> + +<p>Three stories in this volume, "The Magic Circle," "The Woman of his +Dream," and "The Return Game," were first published in The Red Magazine, +and are reprinted by permission of the Editor.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<a href='#The_Tidal_Wave'>THE TIDAL WAVE</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Magic_Circle'>THE MAGIC CIRCLE</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Looker_On'>THE LOOKER-ON</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Second_Fiddle'>THE SECOND FIDDLE</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Woman_of_His_Dream'>THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Return_Game'>THE RETURN GAME</a><br /> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='The_Tidal_Wave'></a><h2>THE TIDAL WAVE</h2> + + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<ol style="list-style-type: upper-roman"> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_I'>Still Waters</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_II'>The Passion-Flower</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_III'>The Minotaur</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_IV'>The Rising Tide</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_V'>Midsummer Morning</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_VI'>The Midsummer Moon</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_VII'>The Death Current</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'>The Boon</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_IX'>The Vision</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_X'>The Long Voyage</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_XI'>Deep Waters</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_XII'>The Safe Haven</a></li> +</ol> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<h3>STILL WATERS</h3> + +<br /> + +<p>Rufus the Red sat on the edge of his boat with his hands clasped between +his knees, staring at nothing. His nets were spread to dry in the sun; +the morning's work was done. Most of the other men had lounged into +their cottages for the midday meal, but the massive red giant sitting on +the shore in the merciless heat of noon did not seem to be thinking of +physical needs.</p> + +<p>His eyes under their shaggy red brows were fixed with apparent +concentration upon his red, hairy legs. Now and then his bare toes +gripped the moist sand almost savagely, digging deep furrows; but for +the most part he sat in solid contemplation.</p> + +<p>There was only one other man within sight along that sunny stretch of +sand—a small, dark man with a shaggy, speckled beard and quick, +twinkling eyes. He was at work upon a tangled length of tarred rope, +pulling and twisting with much energy and deftness to straighten out the +coil, so that it leaped and writhed in his hands like a living thing.</p> + +<p>He whistled over the job cheerily and tunelessly, glancing now and again +with a keen, birdlike intelligence towards the motionless figure twenty +yards away that sat with bent head broiling in the sun. His task seemed +a hopeless one, but he tackled it as if he enjoyed it. His brown hands +worked with a will. He was plainly one to make the best of things, and +not to be lightly discouraged—a man of resolution, as the coxswain of +the Spear Point lifeboat needed to be.</p> + +<p>After ten minutes of unremitting toil he very suddenly ceased to whistle +and sent a brisk hail across the stretch of sand that intervened between +himself and the solitary fisherman on the edge of the boat.</p> + +<p>"Hi—Rufus—Rufus—ahoy!"</p> + +<p>The fiery red head turned in his direction without either alacrity or +interest. The fixed eyes came out of their trance-like study and took in +the blue-jerseyed, energetic figure that worked so actively at the +knotted hemp. There was something rather wonderful about those eyes. +They were of the deep, intense blue of a spirit-fed flame—the blue of +the ocean when a storm broods below the horizon.</p> + +<p>He made no verbal answer to the hail; only after a moment or two he got +slowly to his feet and began leisurely to cross the sand.</p> + +<p>The older man did not watch his progress. His brown, lined face was +bent again over his task.</p> + +<p>Rufus the Red drew near and paused. "Want anything?"</p> + +<p>He spoke from his chest, in a voice like a deep-toned bell. His arms +hung slack at his sides, but the muscles stood out on them like ropes.</p> + +<p>The coxswain of the lifeboat gave his head a brief, upward jerk without +looking at him. "That curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said, +"he came messing round after me this morning, wanted to know would I +take him out with the nets one day. I told him maybe you would."</p> + +<p>"What did you do that for?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>The coxswain shot him a brief and humorous glance. "I always give you +the plums if I can, my boy," he said. "I said to him, 'Me and my son, +we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with +me, and p'raps a bit better, for he's got the better boat.' So he +sheered off, and said maybe he'd look you up in the evening."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I shan't be there," commented Rufus.</p> + +<p>The coxswain chuckled, and lashed out an end of rope, narrowly missing +his son's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that +chap," he observed. "Not by no manner of means. Do you know what +Columbine thinks of him?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>He stooped with an abrupt movement that had in it a hint of savagery, +and picked up the end of rope that lay jerking at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what, Adam," he said. "If that chap values his health he'll +keep clear of me and my boat."</p> + +<p>Everyone called the coxswain Adam, even his son and partner, Rufus the +Red. No two men could have formed a more striking contrast than they, +but their partnership was something more than a business relation. They +were friends—friends on a footing of equality, and had been such ever +since Rufus—the giant baby who had cost his mother her life—had first +closed his resolute fist upon his father's thumb.</p> + +<p>That was five-and-twenty years ago now, and for eighteen of those years +the two had dwelt alone together in their cottage on the cliff in +complete content. Then—seven years back—Adam the coxswain had +unexpectedly tired of his widowed state and taken to himself a second +wife.</p> + +<p>This was Mrs. Peck, of The Ship, a widow herself of some years' +standing, plump, amiable, prosperous, who in marrying Adam would have +gladly opened her doors to Adam's son also had the son been willing to +avail himself of her hospitality.</p> + +<p>But Rufus had preferred independence in the cottage of his birth, and in +this cottage he had lived alone since his father's defection.</p> + +<p>It was a dainty little cottage, perched in an angle of the cliff, well +apart from all the rest and looking straight down upon the great Spear +Point. He tended the strip of garden with scrupulous care, and it made +a bright spot of colour against the brown cliff-side. A rough path, +steep and winding, led up from the beach below, and about half-way up a +small gate, jealously padlocked in the owner's absence, guarded Rufus's +privacy. He never invited any one within that gate. Occasionally his +father would saunter up with his evening pipe and sit in the little +porch of his old home looking through the purple clematis flowers out to +sea while he exchanged a few commonplace remarks with his son, who never +broke his own silence unless he had something to say. But no other +visitor ever intruded there.</p> + +<p>Rufus had acquired the reputation of a hermit, and it kept all the rest +at bay. He had lived his own life for so long that solitude had grown +upon him as moss clings to a stone. He did not seem to feel the need of +human companionship. He lived apart.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, indeed, he would go down to The Ship in the evening and +lounge in the bar with the rest, but even there his solitude still +wrapped him round. He never expanded, however genial the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>The other men treated him with instinctive respect. He was powerful +enough to thrash any two of them, and no one cared to provoke him to +wrath. For Rufus in anger was a veritable mad bull.</p> + +<p>"Leave him alone! He's not safe!" was the general advice and warning of +his fellows, and none but Adam ever interfered with him.</p> + +<p>Just recently, however, Adam had begun to take a somewhat quizzical +interest in the welfare of his son. It had been an established custom +ever since his second marriage that Rufus should eat his Sunday dinner +at the family table down at The Ship. Mrs. Peck—Adam's wife was never +known by any other title, just as the man's own surname had dropped into +such disuse that few so much as knew what it was—had made an especial +point of this, and Rufus had never managed to invent any suitable excuse +for refusing. He never remained long after the meal was eaten. When all +the other fisher-lads were walking the cliffs with their own particular +lasses, Rufus was wont to trudge back to his hermitage and draw his +mantle of solitude about him once more. He had never walked with any +lass. Whether from shyness or surliness, he had held consistently aloof +from such frivolous pastimes. If a girl ever cast a saucy look his way +the brooding blue eyes never seemed aware of it. In speech with +womenkind he was always slow and half-reluctant. That his great +bull-like physique could by any means be an object of admiration was a +possibility that he never seemed to contemplate. In fact, he seemed +expectant of ridicule rather than appreciation.</p> + +<p>In his boyhood he had fought several tough fights with certain lads who +had dared to scoff at his red hair. Sam Jefferson, who lived down on +the quay, still bore the marks of one such battle in the absence of two +front teeth. But he did not take affront from womenkind. He looked over +their heads, and went his way in massive unconcern.</p> + +<p>But lately a change had come into his life—such a change as made Adam's +shrewd dark eyes twinkle whenever they glanced in his son's direction, +comprehending that the days of Rufus's tranquillity were ended.</p> + +<p>A witch had come to live at The Ship, such a witch as had never before +danced along the Spear Point sands. Her name was Maria Peck, and she was +the daughter of Mrs. Peck's late lamented husband's vagabond brother—"a +seafaring man and a wastrel if ever there was one," as Mrs. Peck was +often heard to declare. He had picked up with and eventually married a +Spanish pantomime girl up London way, so Mrs. Peck's information went, +and Maria had been the child of their union.</p> + +<p>No one called her Maria. Her mother had named her Columbine, and +Columbine she had become to all who knew her. Her mother dying when she +was only three, Columbine had been left to the sole care of her wastrel +father. And he, then a skipper of a small cargo steamer plying across +the North Sea, had placed her in the charge of a spinster aunt who kept +an infants' school in a little Kentish village near the coast. Here, up +to the age of seventeen, Columbine had lived and been educated; but the +old schoolmistress had worn out at last, and on her death-bed had sent +for Mrs. Peck, as being the girl's only remaining relative, her father +having drifted out of her ken long since.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck had nobly risen to the occasion. She had no daughter of her +own; she could do with a daughter. But when she saw Columbine she sucked +up her breath.</p> + +<p>"My, but she'll be a care!" was her verdict.</p> + +<p>"She don't know—how lovely she is," the dying woman had whispered. +"Don't tell her!"</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Peck had staunchly promised to keep the secret, so far as lay +in her power.</p> + +<p>That had happened six months before, and Columbine was out of mourning +now. She had come into the Spear Point community like a shy bird, a +little slip of a thing, upright as a dart, with a fashion of holding her +head that kept all familiarity at bay. But the shyness had all gone now. +The girlish immaturity was fast vanishing in soft curves and tender +lines. And the beauty of her!—the beauty of her was as the gold of a +summer morning breaking over a pearly sea.</p> + +<p>She was a creature of light and laughter, but there were in her odd +little streaks of unconsidered impulse that testified to a passionate +soul. She would flash into a temper over a mere trifle, and then in a +moment flash back into mirth and amiability.</p> + +<p>"You can't call her bad-tempered," said Mrs. Peck. "But she's +sharp—she's certainly sharp."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and she's got a will of her own," commented Adam. "But she's your +charge, missus, not mine. It's my belief you'll find her a bit of a +handful before you've done. But don't you ask me to interfere! It's none +o' my job."</p> + +<p>"Lor' bless you," chuckled Mrs. Peck, "I'd as soon think of asking +Rufus!"</p> + +<p>Adam grunted at this light reference to his son. "Rufus ain't such a +fool as he looks," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Lor' sakes! Whoever said he was?" protested the equable Mrs. Peck. +"I've a great respect for Rufus. It wasn't that I meant—not by any +manner o' means."</p> + +<p>What she had meant did not transpire, and Adam did not pursue the +subject to inquire. He also had a respect for Rufus.</p> + +<p>It was not long after that brief conversation that he began to notice a +change in his son. He made no overtures of friendship to the dainty +witch at The Ship, but he took the trouble to make himself extremely +respectable when he made his weekly appearance there. He kept his shag +of red hair severely cropped. He attired himself in navy serge, and wore +a collar.</p> + +<p>Adam's keen eyes took in the change and twinkled. Columbine's eyes +twinkled too. She had begun by being almost absurdly shy in the presence +of the young fisherman who sat so silently at his father's table, but +that phase had wholly passed away. She treated him now with a kindly +condescension, such as she might have bestowed upon a meek-souled dog. +All the other men—with the exception of Adam, whom she frankly +liked—she overlooked with the utmost indifference. They were plainly +lesser animals than dogs.</p> + +<p>"She'll look high," said Mrs. Peck. "The chaps here ain't none of her +sort."</p> + +<p>And again Adam grunted.</p> + +<p>He was fond of Columbine, took her out in his boat, spun yarns for her, +gave her such treasures from the sea as came his way—played, in fact, a +father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to +assume no authority over her. That responsibility was reserved for Mrs. +Peck, whose kindly personality made the bare idea seem absurd.</p> + +<p>And so to a very great extent Columbine had run wild. But the warm +responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a general rule, and +Mrs. Peck's government was by no means exacting.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness, she's not one to run after the men!" was her verdict +after the first six months of Columbine's sojourn.</p> + +<p>That the men would have run after her had they received the smallest +encouragement to do so was a fact that not one of them would have +disputed. But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance, and none +had so far attempted to cross the invisible boundary that she had so +decidedly laid down.</p> + +<p>And then with the summer weather had come the stranger—had come Montagu +Knight. Young, handsome, and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one +day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along the coast from +Spearmouth, on the other side of the Point. And the next day he came +again to stay.</p> + +<p>He had been there for nearly three weeks now, and he seemed to have +every intention of remaining. He was an artist, and the sketches he made +were numerous and—like himself—full of decision. He came and went +among the fishermen's little thatched cottages, selecting here, refusing +there, exactly according to fancy.</p> + +<p>They had been inclined to resent his presence at first—it was certainly +no charitable impulse that moved Adam to call him "the curly-topped +chap"—but now they were getting used to him. For there was no +gainsaying the fact that he had a way with him, at least so far as the +women-folk of the community were concerned.</p> + +<p>He could keep Mrs. Peck chuckling for an hour at a time in the evening, +when the day's work was over. And Columbine—Columbine had a trill of +laughter in her voice whenever she spoke to him. He liked to hear her +play the guitar and sing soft songs in the twilight. Adam liked it too. +He was wont to say that it reminded him of a young blackbird learning to +sing. For Columbine was as yet very shy of her own talent. She kept in +the shallows, as it were, in dread of what the deep might hold.</p> + +<p>Knight was very kind to her, but he was never extravagant in his praise. +He was quite unlike any other man of her acquaintance. His touch was +always so sure. He never sought her out, though he was invariably quite +pleased to see her. The dainty barrier of pride that fenced her round +did not exist for him. She did not need to keep him at a distance. He +could be intimate without being familiar.</p> + +<p>And intimate he had become. There was no disputing it. From the first, +with his easy <i>savoir-faire</i>, he had waived ceremony, till at length +there was no ceremony left between them. He treated her like a lady. +What more could the most exacting demand?</p> + +<p>And yet Adam continued to call him "the curly-topped chap," and turned +him over to his son Rufus when he requested permission to go out in his +boat.</p> + +<p>And Rufus—Rufus turned with a gesture of disgust after the utterance of +his half-veiled threat, and spat with savage emphasis upon the sand.</p> + +<p>Adam uttered a chuckle that was not wholly unsympathetic, and began +deftly to coil the now disentangled rope.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what I'd do—if I was in your place?" he said.</p> + +<p>Rufus made a sound that was strictly noncommittal.</p> + +<p>Adam's quick eyes flung him a birdlike glance. "Why don't you come along +to The Ship and smoke a pipe with your old father of an evening?" he +said. "Once a week's not enough, not, that is, if you—" He broke off +suddenly, caught by a whistle that could not be resisted.</p> + +<p>Rufus was regarding the horizon with those brooding eyes of vivid blue.</p> + +<p>Abruptly Adam ceased to whistle. "When I was a young chap," he said, "I +didn't keep my courting for Sundays only. I didn't dress up, mind you. +That weren't my way. But I'd go along in my jersey and invite her out +for a bit of a cruise in the old boat. They likes a cruise, Rufus. You +try it, my boy! You try it!"</p> + +<p>The rope lay in an orderly coil at his feet, and he straightened +himself, rubbing his hands on his trousers. His son remained quite +motionless, his eyes still fixed as though he heard not.</p> + +<p>Adam stood up beside him, shrewdly alert. He had never before ventured +to utter words of counsel on this delicate subject. But having started, +he was minded to make a neat job of it. Adam had never been the man to +leave a thing half done.</p> + +<p>"Go to it, Rufus!" he said, dropping his voice confidentially. "Don't be +afraid to show your mettle! Don't be crowded out by that curly-topped +chap! You're worth a dozen of him. Just you let her know it, that's +all!"</p> + +<p>He dug his hands into his trousers pockets with the words, and turned to +go.</p> + +<p>Rufus moved then, moved abruptly as one coming out of a dream. His eyes +swooped down upon the lithe, active figure at his side. They held a +smile—a fiery smile that gleamed meteor-like and passed.</p> + +<p>"All right, Adam," he said in his deep-chested voice.</p> + +<p>And with a sidelong nod Adam wheeled and departed. He had done his +morning's work.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<h3>THE PASSION-FLOWER</h3> + +<br /> + +<p>"Where's that Columbine?" said Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>A gay trill like the call of a blackbird in the dawning answered her. +Columbine, with a pink sun-bonnet over her black hair, was watering the +flowers in the little conservatory that led out of the drawing-room. She +had just come in from the garden, and a gorgeous red rose was pinned +upon her breast. Mrs. Peck stood in the doorway and watched her.</p> + +<p>The face above the red rose was so lovely that even her matter-of-fact +soul had to pause to admire. It was a perpetual wonder to her and a +perpetual fascination. The dark, unawakened eyes, the long, perfect +brows, the deep, rich colouring, all combined to make such a picture as +good Mrs. Peck realised to be superb.</p> + +<p>Again the pure contralto trill came from the red lips, and then, with a +sudden movement that had in it something of the grace of an alighting +bird, Columbine turned, swinging her empty can.</p> + +<p>"I've promised to take Mr. Knight to the Spear Point Caves by +moonlight," she said. "He's doing a moonlight study, and he doesn't +know the lie of the quicksand."</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Peck. "What made him ask you? There's Adam +knows every inch of the shore better nor what you do."</p> + +<p>"He didn't ask," said Columbine. "I offered. And I know the shore just +as well as Adam does, Aunt Liza. Adam himself showed me the lie of the +quicksand long ago. I know it like my own hand."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck pursed her lips. "I doubt but what you'd better take Adam +along too," she said. "I wouldn't feel easy about you. And there won't +be any moonlight worth speaking of till after ten. It wouldn't do for +you to be traipsing about alone even with Mr. Knight—nice young +gentleman as he be—at that hour."</p> + +<p>"Aunt Liza, I don't traipse!" Momentary indignation shone in the +beautiful eyes and passed like a gleam of light. "Dear Aunt Liza," +laughed Columbine, "aren't you funny?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," maintained Mrs. Peck. "I'm just common-sensical, my dear. +And it ain't right—it never were right in my young day—to go walking +out alone with a man after bedtime."</p> + +<p>"A man, Aunt Liza! Oh, but a man! An artist isn't a man—at least, not +an ordinary man." There was a hint of earnestness in Columbine's tone, +notwithstanding its lightness.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Peck remained firm. "It wouldn't make it right, not if he was +an angel from heaven," she declared.</p> + +<p>Columbine's gay laugh had in it that quality of youth that surmounts all +obstacles. "He's much safer than an angel," she protested, "because he +can't fly. Besides, the Spear Point Caves are all on this side of the +Point. You could watch us all the time if you'd a mind to."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Peck did not laugh. "I'd rather you didn't go, my dear," she +said. "So let that be the end of it, there's a good girl!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I—" began Columbine, and broke off short. "Goodness, how you +made me jump!" she said instead.</p> + +<p>Rufus, his burly form completely blocking the doorway, was standing half +in and half out of the garden, looking at her.</p> + +<p>"Lawks!" said Mrs. Peck. "So you did me! Good evening, Rufus! Are you +wanting Adam?"</p> + +<p>"Not specially," said Rufus. He entered, with massive, lounging +movements. "I suppose I can come in," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"What a question!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>Columbine said nothing. She picked up her empty watering-can and swung +it carelessly on one finger, hunting for invisible weeds in the +geranium-pots the while.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck was momentarily at a loss. She was not accustomed to +entertaining Rufus in his father's absence.</p> + +<p>"Have a glass of mulberry wine!" she suggested.</p> + +<p>"Columbine, run and fetch it, dear! It's in the right-hand corner, third +shelf, of the cupboard under the stairs. I'm sure you're very welcome," +she added to Rufus, "but you must excuse me, for I've got to see to Mr. +Knight's dinner."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Mother," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>He always called her mother; it was a term of deference with him rather +than affection. But Mrs. Peck liked him for it.</p> + +<p>"Sit you down!" she said hospitably. "And mind you make yourself quite +at home! Columbine will look after you. You'll be staying to supper, I +hope?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Rufus. "I don't know. Where's Adam?"</p> + +<p>"He's chopping a bit of wood in the yard. He don't want any help. You'll +see him presently. You stop and have a chat with Columbine!" said Mrs. +Peck; and with a smile and nod she bustled stoutly away.</p> + +<p>When Columbine returned with the mulberry wine and a glass on a tray the +conservatory was empty. She set down her tray and paused.</p> + +<p>There was a faintly mutinous curve about her soft lips, a gleam of +dancing mischief in her eyes.</p> + +<p>In a moment a step sounded on the path outside, and Rufus reappeared. He +had been out to fill her watering-can, and he deposited it full at her +feet.</p> + +<p>"Don't put it there!" she said, with a touch of sharpness. "I don't want +to tumble over it, do I? Thank you for filling it, but you needn't have +troubled. I've done."</p> + +<p>"Then it'll come in for tomorrow," said Rufus, setting the can +deliberately in a corner.</p> + +<p>Columbine turned to pour out a glass of Mrs. Peck's mulberry wine.</p> + +<p>"Only one glass?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>She threw him a quizzing smile over her shoulder. "Well, you don't want +two, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Rufus slowly. "But I don't drink—alone."</p> + +<p>She gave a low, gurgling laugh. "You'll be saying you don't smoke alone +next. If you want someone to keep you company, I'd better fetch Adam."</p> + +<p>She turned round to him with the words, offering the glass on the tray. +Her eyes were lowered, but the upward curl of the black lashes somehow +conveyed the impression that she was peeping through them. The tilt of +the red lips, with the pearly teeth just showing in a smile, was of so +alluring an enchantment that the most level-headed of men could scarcely +have failed to pause and admire.</p> + +<p>Rufus paused so long that at last she lifted those glorious eyes of hers +in semi-scornful interrogation.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Don't you want it?"</p> + +<p>He made an odd gesture as of one at a loss to explain himself. "Won't +you drink first?" he said, his voice very low.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said Columbine briskly. "I don't like it."</p> + +<p>"Then—I don't like it either," he said.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly!" she said. "Of course you do! I know you do! Take it, +and don't be ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>But Rufus turned away with solid resolution. "No, thanks," he said.</p> + +<p>Columbine set down the tray again with a hint of exasperation. "You're +just like a child," she said severely. "A great, overgrown boy, that's +what you are!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said Rufus, propping himself against the door-post.</p> + +<p>"It's not all right. It's time you grew up." Columbine picked up the +full glass, and, carrying it daintily, advanced upon him. "I suppose I +shall have to make you take it like medicine," she remarked.</p> + +<p>She stood against the door-post, facing him, upright, slender, exquisite +as an opening flower.</p> + +<p>"Drink, puppy, drink!" she said flippantly, and elevated the glass +towards her guest's somewhat grim lips.</p> + +<p>The sombre blue eyes came down to her with something of a flash. And in +the same moment Rufus's great right hand disengaged itself from his +pocket and grasped the slim wrist of the hand that held the wine.</p> + +<p>"You drink—first!" said Rufus, and guided the glass with unmistakable +resolution to the provocative red lips.</p> + +<p>She jerked back her head to avoid it, but the doorpost against which she +stood checked the backward movement. Before she could prevent it the +wine was in her mouth.</p> + +<p>She flung up her free hand and would have knocked the glass away, but +Rufus could be prompt of action when he chose. He caught it from her and +drained it almost in the same movement. Not a drop was spilt between +them. He set down the glass on a shelf of the conservatory, and propped +himself up once more with his hands in his pockets.</p> + +<p>Columbine's face was burning red; her eyes literally blazed. Her whole +body vibrated as if strung on wires. "How—dare you?" she said, and +showed her white teeth with the words like an angry tigress.</p> + +<p>He looked down at her, a faint smile in his blue eyes. "But I don't +drink—alone," he said in such a tone of gentle explanation as he might +have used to a child.</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot. "I hate you!" she said. "I'll never forgive you!"</p> + +<p>"A joke's a joke," said Rufus, still in the tone of a mild instructor.</p> + +<p>"A joke!" Her wrath enwrapped her like a flame. "It was not a joke! It +was a coarse—and hateful—trick!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said Rufus, as one giving up a hopeless task.</p> + +<p>"It's not all right!" flashed Columbine. "You're a bounder, an oaf, a +brute! I—I'll never speak to you again, unless—you—you—apologise!"</p> + +<p>He was still looking down with that vague hint of amusement in his +eyes—the look of a man who watches the miniature fury of some tiny +creature.</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything you like," he said with slow indulgence. "I didn't +know you'd turn nasty, or I wouldn't have done it."</p> + +<p>"Nasty!" echoed Columbine. And then her wrath went suddenly into a +superb gust of scorn. "Oh, you—you are beyond words!" she said. "You +had better get along to the bar and drink there. You'll find your own +kind there to drink with."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather drink with you," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>She uttered a laugh that was tremulous with anger. "You've done it for +the first and last time, my man," she said.</p> + +<p>With the words she turned like a darting, indignant bird, and left him.</p> + +<p>Someone was entering the drawing-room from the hall with a careless, +melodious whistle—a whistle that ended on a note of surprise as +Columbine sped through the room. The whistler—a tall, bronzed young man +in white flannels—stopped short to regard her.</p> + +<p>His eyes were grey and wary under absolutely level brows. His hair was +dark, with an inclination—sternly repressed—to waviness above the +forehead. He made a decidedly pleasant picture, as even Adam could not +have denied.</p> + +<p>Columbine also checked herself at sight of him, but the red blood was +throbbing at her temples. There was no hiding her agitation.</p> + +<p>"You seem in a hurry," remarked Knight. "I hope there is nothing wrong."</p> + +<p>His chin was modelled on firm lines, but there was a very distinct cleft +in it that imparted to him the look of one who could smile at most +things. His words were kindly, but they did not hold any very deep +concern.</p> + +<p>Columbine came to a stand, gripping the back of a chair to steady +herself. "Oh, I—I have been—insulted!" she panted.</p> + +<p>The straight brows went up a little; the man himself stiffened slightly. +Without further words he moved across to the door into the conservatory +and looked through it. He was in time to see Rufus's great, lounging +figure sauntering away in the direction of the wood-yard.</p> + +<p>Knight stood a moment or two and watched him, then quietly turned and +rejoined the girl.</p> + +<p>She was still leaning upon the chair, but she was gradually recovering +her self-control. As he drew near she made a slight movement as if to +resume her interrupted flight. But some other impulse intervened, and +she remained where she was.</p> + +<p>Knight came up and stood beside her. "What has he been doing to annoy +you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She made a small, vehement gesture of disgust. "Oh, we won't talk of +him. He is an oaf. I dare say he doesn't know any better, but he'll +never have a chance of doing it again. I don't mix with the riff-raff."</p> + +<p>"He's Adam's son, isn't he?" questioned Knight.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Yes, the great, hulking lubber! Adam's all right. I like +Adam. But Rufus—well, Rufus is a bounder, and I'll never have anything +more to say to him."</p> + +<p>"I think you are quite right to hold your head up above these fisher +fellows," remarked Knight, his grey eyes watching her with an appraising +expression. "They are as much out of place near you as a bed of bindweed +would be in the neighbourhood of a passion-flower." His glance took in +her still panting bosom. "I think you are something of a +passion-flower," he said, faintly smiling. "I wonder at any man daring +to risk offending you."</p> + +<p>Columbine stood up with the free movement of a disdainful princess. "Oh, +he's just a lout," she said. "He doesn't know any better. It isn't as if +you had done it."</p> + +<p>"That would have been different, would it?" said Knight.</p> + +<p>She smiled, but a sombre light still shone in her eyes. "Quite +different," she said with simplicity. "You see, you're a gentleman. +And—gentlemen—don't do unpleasant things like that."</p> + +<p>He laughed a little. "You make me feel quite nervous. What a shocking +thing it would be if I ever did anything to forfeit your good opinion."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't," said Columbine.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't!" He repeated the word with an odd inflection.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be you," she explained with the utmost gravity, as one +stating an irrefutable fact.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Knight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not a compliment," she returned. "It's just the truth. There +are some people—a few people—that one knows one can trust through and +through. And you are one of them, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" said Knight. "You know, that's rather—a colossal +thing—to say of any one."</p> + +<p>"Then you are colossal," said Columbine, smiling more freely.</p> + +<p>Knight turned aside, and picked up the sketch-book he had laid upon the +table on entering. "Are you sure you are not rash?" he said, rather in +the tone of one making a remark than asking a question.</p> + +<p>"Fairly sure," said Columbine.</p> + +<p>She followed him. Perhaps he had foreseen that she would. She stood by +his side.</p> + +<p>"May I see the latest?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He opened the book and showed her a blank page. "That is the latest," he +said.</p> + +<p>She looked at him interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"I am waiting for my—inspiration," he said.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will find it soon," she said.</p> + +<p>He answered her with steady conviction. "I shall find it tonight by +moonlight at the Spear Point Rock."</p> + +<p>Her face clouded a little. "I believe Adam is going to take you," she +said.</p> + +<p>"What?" said Knight. "You are never going to let me down?"</p> + +<p>She smiled with a touch of irony. "It was the Spear Point you wanted," +she reminded him.</p> + +<p>"And you," said Knight, "to show the way."</p> + +<p>Something in his tone arrested her. Her beautiful eyes sank suddenly to +the blank page he held. "Adam can do that—as well as I can," she said.</p> + +<p>"But you said you would," said Knight. His voice was low; he was looking +full at her. He saw the rich colour rising in her cheeks. "What is it?" +he said. "Won't they let you?"</p> + +<p>She raised her head abruptly, proudly. "I please myself," she said. "No +one has the ordering of me."</p> + +<p>His grey eyes shone a little. "Then it pleases you—to let me down?" he +questioned.</p> + +<p>Her look flashed suddenly up to his. She saw his expression and laughed. +"I didn't think you'd care," she said. "Adam knows the lie of the +quicksand. That's all you really want."</p> + +<p>"Oh, pardon me!" said Knight. "You are quite wrong, if you imagine that +I am indifferent as to who goes with me. Inspiration won't burn in a +cold place."</p> + +<p>She dropped her lids, still looking at him. "Isn't Adam inspiring?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't furnish the particular sort of inspiration I am needing +for my moonlight picture," said Knight.</p> + +<p>He spoke deliberately, but his brows were slightly drawn, belying the +coolness of his speech.</p> + +<p>"What is the sort of inspiration you are wanting?" asked Columbine.</p> + +<p>He smiled with a hint of provocation. "I'll tell you that when we get +there."</p> + +<p>Her answering smile was infinitely more provocative than his. "That will +be very interesting," she said.</p> + +<p>Knight closed his sketch-book. "I am glad to know," he said +thoughtfully, "that you please yourself, Miss Columbine. In doing so, +you have the happy knack of pleasing—others."</p> + +<p>He made her a slight, courtly bow, and turned away.</p> + +<p>He left her still standing at the table, looking after him with +perplexity and gathering resolution in her eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h3>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<h3>THE MINOTAUR</h3> + +<br /> +<p>"Not stopping to supper even? Well, you must be a darned looney!"</p> + +<p>Adam sat down astride his wood-block with the words, and looked up at +his son with the aggressive expression of a Scotch terrier daring a +Newfoundland.</p> + +<p>Rufus, with his hands in his pockets, leaned against the woodshed. He +made no reply of any sort to his father's brisk observation. Obviously +it made not the faintest impression upon him.</p> + +<p>After a moment or two he spoke, his pipe in the corner of his mouth. "If +that chap bathes off the Spear Point rocks when the tide's at the spring +he'll get into difficulties."</p> + +<p>"Who says he does?" demanded Adam.</p> + +<p>Rufus jerked his head. "I saw him—from my place—this afternoon. Tide +was going down, or the current would have caught him. Better warn him."</p> + +<p>"I did," responded Adam sharply. "Warned him long ago. Warned him of the +quicksand, too."</p> + +<p>Rufus grunted. "Then he's only himself to thank. Or maybe he doesn't +know a spring tide from a neap."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's not such a fool as that," said Adam.</p> + +<p>Rufus grunted once again, and relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>It was at this point that Mrs. Peck showed her portly person at the back +door of The Ship.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rufus," she said, "I thought you was in the front with Columbine."</p> + +<p>Rufus stood up with the deference that he never omitted to pay to Adam's +wife. "So I was," he said. "I came along here after to talk to Adam."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck's round eyes gave him a searching look. "Did you have your +mulberry wine?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mother."</p> + +<p>"You were mighty quick about it," commented Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's in a hurry," said Adam, with one of his birdlike glances. +"Can't stop for anything, missus. Wants to get back to his supper."</p> + +<p>"I never!" said Mrs. Peck. "You aren't in that hurry, Rufus, surely! +Just as I was going to ask you to do something to oblige me, too!"</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck descended into the yard with a hint of mystery. "Well, just +this," she said confidentially. "That there Mr. Knight, he's a very nice +young gentleman; but he's an artist, and you know, artists don't look at +things like ordinary folk. He wants to get a moonlight picture of the +Spear Point, and he's got our Columbine to say she'll take him there +tonight. Well, now, I don't think it's right, and I told her so. But, of +course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and +different-like from the rest. Still, I said as I'd rather she didn't, +and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know. It +wouldn't be hardly safe to let him go alone. He's a bit foolhardy too. +But Adam's not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise. So +I thought as how maybe you'd step into the breach and take Mr. Knight +along. Come, you won't refuse?"</p> + +<p>She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the +young fisherman's rugged face.</p> + +<p>Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips +and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you go, Rufus!" he said, as Mrs. Peck paused. "You show him round! +I'd like him to know you."</p> + +<p>"What for?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a +wink and a grin. "Do you good to go into society," he said. "That's all +right, missus, he'll go. Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants +to start."</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit!" commanded Rufus.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck waited. She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as +his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that. +Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men.</p> + +<p>"It comes to this," said Rufus, speaking ponderously. "I'll go if I'm +wanted. But I'm not one for shoving myself in otherwise. Maybe the chap +won't be so keen himself when he knows he can't have Columbine to go +with him. Find that out first!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile. "Lor', Rufus! You've +got some sense," she said. "But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I +says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back."</p> + +<p>Adam chuckled. "Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I +know," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Ah! She don't visit her tantrums on you," rejoined his wife. "You can +afford to smile."</p> + +<p>"And I does," said Adam.</p> + +<p>Rufus turned away. There was no smile on his countenance. He said +nothing, but there was that in his demeanour that clearly indicated that +he personally was neither amused nor disconcerted by the tantrums of +Columbine.</p> + +<p>He followed Mrs. Peck indoors, and sat down in the kitchen to await +developments. And Adam, whistling cheerfully, strolled to the bar.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck had to dish up the visitor's dinner before she could tackle +him upon the subject in hand. She trotted to and fro upon her task, too +intent for further speech with Rufus, who sat in unbroken silence, +gazing steadily before him with a Sphinx-like immobility that made of +him an impressive figure.</p> + +<p>The beefsteak was already in the dish, and Mrs. Peck was in the act of +pouring the gravy over it when there sounded a light step on the stone +of the passage and Columbine entered.</p> + +<p>She had removed her sun-bonnet and donned a dainty little apron. The +soft dark hair clustered tenderly about her temples.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Liza," she said, "if I didn't go and forget that Sally was out +tonight! I'm sorry I'm too late to help with the dinner. But I'll take +it in."</p> + +<p>She caught her breath at sight of the massive, silent figure seated +against the wall, but instantly recovered her composure and passed it by +with an upward tilt of the chin.</p> + +<p>"You needn't trouble yourself to do that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Peck, +with a touch of tartness. "I'll wait on Mr. Knight myself. You can lay +the supper in the parlour if you've a mind to be useful. There'll be +four to lay for."</p> + +<p>Columbine turned with something of a pounce. "No, there won't! There'll +be three," she said. "If that—oaf—stays to supper, I go without!"</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>Rufus came out of his silence. "That's all right. I'm not staying to +supper," he said.</p> + +<p>"But—lor' sakes!—what's the matter?" questioned Mrs. Peck. "Have you +two been quarrelling?"</p> + +<p>"No, we haven't!" flashed Columbine. "I wouldn't stoop. But I'm not +going to sit down to supper with a man who hasn't learnt manners. I'd +sooner go without—much."</p> + +<p>Rufus remained absolutely unmoved. He made no attempt at +self-justification, though Mrs. Peck was staring from one to the other +in mystified interrogation.</p> + +<p>Columbine turned swiftly and caught up a cover for the savoury dish that +steamed on the table. "You'd better let me take this in before it gets +cold," she said.</p> + +<p>"No; put it on the rack!" commanded Mrs. Peck. "There's a drop of soup +to go in first. And, Columbine, my dear, I don't think it's right of you +to go losing your temper that way. Rufus is Adam's son, remember, and +you can't refuse to sit at table with him."</p> + +<p>"Leave her alone, Mother!" For the second time Rufus intervened. "I've +offended her. My mistake. I'll know better next time."</p> + +<p>His deep voice was wholly devoid of humour. It was, in fact, devoid of +any species of emotion whatever. Yet, oddly enough, the anger died out +of Columbine's face as she heard it. She turned to the tablecloth-press +and began to unwind it in silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck sniffed, and took up the soup-tureen.</p> + +<p>As she waddled out of the kitchen Columbine withdrew the parlour +tablecloth and turned round.</p> + +<p>"If you're really sorry," she said, "I'll forgive you."</p> + +<p>Rufus regarded her for several seconds in silence, a slow smile dawning +in his eyes. "Thank you," he said finally.</p> + +<p>"You are sorry then?" insisted Columbine.</p> + +<p>He shook his great bull-head, the smile still in his eyes. "I wouldn't +have missed it for anything," he said.</p> + +<p>There was no perceptible familiarity in the remark, and Columbine, after +brief consideration, decided to dismiss it without discussion. "Well, +let it be a lesson to you, and don't you ever do such a thing again!" +she said severely. "For I won't have you or any man lay hands on me—not +even in fun."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if to remove all cause of +offence, and was rewarded by a swift smile from Columbine. The storm had +blown away.</p> + +<p>"I'll lay for four after all," she said, as she whisked out of the room.</p> + +<p>Rufus was still seated in solitary state in the kitchen when Mrs. Peck +returned from the little coffee-room where she had been serving her +guest.</p> + +<p>She peered round with caution ere she came close to him and spoke.</p> + +<p>"It's as you thought. He don't want to go with either you or Adam."</p> + +<p>Rufus's face remained unchanged; it was slightly bovine of expression as +he received the news. "We'll both get to bed in good time then," was his +comment.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck's smooth brow drew in momentary exasperation. She had expected +something more dramatic than this.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're so easily satisfied," she said. "But let me tell +you—I'm not!"</p> + +<p>She paused to see if this piece of information would take more effect +than the first, but again Rufus proved a disappointment. Neither by word +nor look did he express any sympathy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck continued, it being contrary to her nature to leave anything +to the imagination of her hearers. "If he'd been content to go with one +of you, I wouldn't have given it another thought. Goodness knows, I'm +not of a suspicious turn. But the moment I mention the matter, he turns +round with his sweetest smile and he says, 'Oh, don't you trouble, Mrs. +Peck!' he says. 'I quite understand. Miss Columbine explained it all, +and I quite see your point. It ought to have occurred to me sooner,' he +says, smiling with them nice teeth of his, 'but, if you'll believe me, +it didn't.' And then, when I suggested maybe he'd like you or Adam to go +with him instead, it was, 'No, no, Mrs. Peck. I wouldn't ask it of 'em. +I couldn't drag any man at the chariot-wheels of Art. If I did, she +would see to it that the chariot was empty.' He most always talks like +that," ended Mrs. Peck in an aggrieved tone. "He's that airy in his +ways."</p> + +<p>A sudden trill of laughter from the doorway caused her to straighten +herself sharply and trot to the fireplace with a guilty air.</p> + +<p>Columbine entered, light of foot, her eyes brimful of mirth. "You're +caught, Aunt Liza! Yes, you're caught!" she commented ungenerously. "I +know exactly what you were saying. Shall I tell you? No, p'raps I'd +better not. I'll tell you what you looked like instead, shall I? You +looked exactly like that funny old speckled hen in the yard who always +clucks such a lot. And Rufus"—she threw him a merry glance from which +all resentment had wholly departed—"Rufus looks—and is—just like a +great red ox."</p> + +<p>"Don't you be pert!" said Mrs. Peck, stooping stoutly over the fire. +"Get a duster and dust them plates!"</p> + +<p>Columbine laughed again with her chin in the air. She found a duster and +occupied herself as desired.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were upon her work. Plainly she was not looking at Rufus, not +apparently thinking of him. But—very suddenly—without changing her +attitude, she flashed him a swift glance. He was looking straight at +her, and in his blue eyes was an intense, deep glow as of flaming +spirit.</p> + +<p>Columbine's look shot away from him with the rapidity of a swallow on +the wing. The colour deepened in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"P'raps he's almost more like a prize bull," she said meditatively. +"Perhaps he's a Minotaur, Aunt Liza. Do you think he is?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Peck, with +a touch of acidity.</p> + +<p>Columbine laughed a little. "Do you know, Rufus?" she said.</p> + +<p>She did not look at him with the question; there was a quivering dimple +in her red cheek that came and went.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know," said Rufus with simplicity.</p> + +<p>"Would you, really?" Columbine polished the last plate vigorously and +set it down. "The Minotaur," she said, in the tone of a schoolmistress +delivering a lecture, "was a monster, half-bull, half-man, who lived in +a place like the Spear Point Caves, and devoured young men and maidens. +You live nearer to the Caves than any one else, don't you, Rufus?"</p> + +<p>Again she ventured a darting glance at him. His look was still upon her, +but its fiery quality was less apparent. He met the challenge with his +slow, indulgent smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I live there. I don't devour anybody. I'm not—that sort of +monster."</p> + +<p>Columbine shook her head. "I'm not so sure of that," she said. "But I +dare say you'd tame."</p> + +<p>"P'raps you'd like to do it," suggested Rufus.</p> + +<p>It was his first direct overture, and Columbine, who had angled for it, +experienced a thrill of triumph. But she was swift to mask her +satisfaction. She tossed her head, and turned: "Oh, I've no time to +waste that way," she said. "You must do your own taming, Mr. Minotaur. +When you're quite civilised, p'raps I'll talk to you."</p> + +<p>She was gone with the words, carrying her plates with her.</p> + +<p>"She's a deal too pert," observed Mrs. Peck to the saucepan she was +stirring. "It's my belief now that that Mr. Knight's been putting ideas +into her head. She's getting wild; that's what she is."</p> + +<p>Knowing Rufus, she expected no response, and for several seconds none +came.</p> + +<p>Then to her surprise she heard his voice, deep and sonorous as the +bell-buoy that was moored by the Spear Point Reef.</p> + +<p>"Maybe she'd tame," he said.</p> + +<p>And "Goodness gracious unto me!" said Mrs. Peck, as she lifted her +saucepan off the fire.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<h3>THE RISING TIDE</h3> + +<br /> +<p>A long dazzling pathway of moonlight stretched over the sea, starting +from the horizon, ending at the great jutting promontory of the Spear +Point. The moon was yet three nights from the full. The tide was rising, +but it would not be high for another two hours.</p> + +<p>The breakers ran in, one behind the other, foaming over the hidden +rocks, splashing wildly against the grim wall of granite that stood +sharp-edged to withstand them. It was curved like a scimitar, that rock, +and within its curve there slept, when the tide was low, a pool. When +the tide rose the waters raged and thundered all around the rock, but +when it sank again the still, deep pool remained, unruffled as a +mountain tarn and as full of mystery.</p> + +<p>Over a tumble of lesser rocks that bounded the pool to shoreward the +wary might find a path to the Spear Point Caves; but the path was +difficult, and there were few who had ever attempted it. For the +quicksand lay like a golden barrier between the outer beach and the +rocks that led thither.</p> + +<p>It was an awesome spot. Many a splinter of wreckage had been tossed in +over the Spear Point as though flung in sport from a giant hand. And +when the water was high there came a hollow groaning from the inner +caves as though imprisoned spirits languished there.</p> + +<p>But on that night of magic moonlight the only sound was the murmurous +splash of the rising waves as they met the first grim rocks of the +Point. Presently they would dash in thunder round the granite blade, and +the sleeping pool would be turned to a smother of foam.</p> + +<p>On the edge of the pool a woman's figure clad in white stood balanced +with outstretched arms. So still was the water, so splendid the +moonlight, that the whole of her light form was mirrored there—a +perfect image of nymph-like grace. She sang a soft, low, trilling song +like the song of a blackbird awaking to the dawn.</p> + +<p>"By Jupiter!" Knight murmured to himself. "If I could get her only +once—only once—as—she—is!"</p> + +<p>The gleam of the hunter was in his look. He stood on the rocks some +yards away from her, gazing with eyes half-shut.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she turned herself, and across the intervening space her voice +came to him, half-mocking, half-alluring, "Have you found your +inspiration yet?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," he said.</p> + +<p>She raised her shoulders with a humorous gesture, "Hasn't the magic +begun to work?"</p> + +<p>He came towards her, moving slowly and with caution. "Don't move!" he +said.</p> + +<p>She waited for him on the edge of the pool. There was laughter in her +eyes, laughter and the sublime daring of innocence.</p> + +<p>He reached her. They stood together on the same flat rock. He bent to +her, in his eyes the burning worship of beauty.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!" he said. "Witch! Enchantress! Queen!"</p> + +<p>The red blood raced into her face. Her eyes shone into his with a sudden +glory—the glory of the awaking soul. But the woman-instinct in her +checked the first quick impulse of surrender.</p> + +<p>She made a little motion away from him. She laughed and veiled her eyes +from the fiery adoration that flamed upon her. "The magic is +working—evidently," she said. "What a good thing I brought you here!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is a good thing," he said, and in his voice she heard the deep +note of a mastery that would not be denied. "Do you know what you have +done to me, you goddess? You have opened the eyes of my heart. I am +dazzled. I am blinded. I believe I am possessed. When I paint my picture +—it will be such as the world has never seen."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better begin it?" whispered Columbine.</p> + +<p>He held out his hand to her—a hand that was not wholly steady. "Not +yet," he said. "The vision is too near, too wonderful. How shall I paint +the rapture that I have hardly yet dared to contemplate? Columbine!"</p> + +<p>His voice suddenly pleaded, and as though in answer she laid her hand in +his. But she did not raise her eyes. She palpitated from head to foot +like a captured bird.</p> + +<p>"You are not—afraid?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she whispered back. "Not of you—not of you!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "We are caught in the same net. There is nothing terrible +in that. The same magic is working in us both. Let it work, dear! We +understand each other. Why should there be anything to fear?"</p> + +<p>But still she did not raise her eyes, and still she trembled in his +hold. "I never thought," she faltered, "never dreamed. Oh, is it true?"</p> + +<p>"True that you are the most beautiful creature that this earth +contains?" he said, and his voice throbbed upon the words. "True that +the very sight of you turns my blood to fire? Aphrodite, goddess and +sorceress, do you doubt that? Wait till you see my picture, and then +ask! I have found my inspiration tonight—yes, I have found it—but it +is so immense—so overwhelming—that I cannot grasp it yet. Tonight, +dear, just for tonight—let me worship at your feet! This madness must +have its way. In the morning I shall be sane again. Tonight—tonight I +tread Olympus with the Immortals."</p> + +<p>He was drawing her towards him, and Columbine—Columbine, who suffered +no man's hand upon her—was yielding slowly, but inevitably, to the +persuasion of his touch. Just at the last, indeed, she made a small, +wholly futile attempt to free herself; but the moment she did so his +hold became the hold of the conqueror, and with a faint laugh she flung +aside the instinct that had prompted it. The next instant, freely and +splendidly, she raised her downcast face and abandoned herself utterly +to him.</p> + +<p>To give without stint was the impulse of her passionate, Southern +nature, and she gave freely, royally, that night. The magic that ran in +the veins of both was too compelling to be resisted. The girl, with her +half-awakened soul, the man, with his fiery thirst for beauty, were +caught in the great current that sweeps like a tidal wave around the +world, and it bore them swiftly, swiftly, whither neither he in his +restlessness nor she in her in experience realised or cared. If the +sound of the breakers came to them from afar they heeded it not. They +were too far away to matter as yet, and Knight had steered a safe course +for himself in troubled seas before. As for Columbine, she knew only the +rapture of love triumphant, and tasted perfect safety in the holding of +her lover's arms. He had won her with scarcely a struggle, and she +gloried with an ecstasy that was in its way sublime in the completeness +of her surrender. On such a night as that it seemed to her that the +whole world lay at her feet, and she knew no fear.</p> + +<p>The still pool slept in the moonlight, a lake of silver, unspeakably +calm. Beyond the outstretched blade of rock the great waters rose and +rose. The murmur of them had swelled to a roar. The splash of them +mounted higher and ever higher. Suddenly a crest of foam gleamed like a +tongue of lightning at the point of the curve. The pool stirred as if +awakening. The moonlight on its surface was shivered in a thousand +ripples. They broke in a succession of tiny wavelets against the +encircling rocks.</p> + +<p>Another silver crest appeared, burst in thunder, and in a moment the +pool was flooded with tossing water.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that?" whispered Columbine. "It is like my life."</p> + +<p>They stood together under the frowning cliff and watched the wonder of +the pool's awakening. Knight's arm held her close pressed to his side. +He could feel the beating of her heart. She stood with her face upturned +to his and all the glory of love's surrender shining in her eyes.</p> + +<p>He caught his breath as he looked at her. He stooped and kissed the red, +red lips that gave so generously. "Is my love as the rising tide to you, +sweet?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"It is more!" she answered passionately. "It is more! It is the tidal +wave that comes so seldom—maybe only once in a lifetime—and carries +all before it."</p> + +<p>He pressed her closer. "My passion-flower!" he said. "My queen!"</p> + +<p>He kissed the throbbing whiteness of her throat, the loose clusters of +her hair. He laid his hot face against her neck, and held it so, not +breathing. Her arms stretched upwards, clasping him. She was +panting—panting as one in deep waters.</p> + +<p>"I love you! I love you!" she whispered tensely. "Oh, how I love you!"</p> + +<p>Again there came the thunder of the surf. The waters of the pool leapt +as if a giant hand had churned them. The foam from beyond the reef +overspread them like snow. The whole world became full of the sound of +surging waters.</p> + +<p>Knight opened his eyes. "The tide is coming up fast," he said. "We must +be getting back."</p> + +<p>She clung closer to him. "I could die with you on a night like this," +she said.</p> + +<p>He crushed her to his heart. "Ah, goddess!" he said. "You couldn't die! +But I am only mortal, and the tide won't wait."</p> + +<p>Again the swirling breakers swept around the Point. Reluctantly she came +to earth. The pool had become a seething whirl of water.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "we must go, and quickly—quickly! It rises so fast +here."</p> + +<p>Sure-footed as a doe over the slippery rocks, she led the way. They left +the magic place and the dazzling tumble of moonlit water, the dark +caves, the enchanted strand. Progress was not easy, but Knight had been +that way before, though only by day. He followed his guide closely, and +when presently they emerged upon level sand, he overtook and walked +beside her.</p> + +<p>She slipped her hand into his. "It's the lie of the quicksand that's +puzzling," she said, "if you don't know it well."</p> + +<p>"I am in thy hands, O Queen," he made light reply. "Lead me whither thou +wilt!"</p> + +<p>She laughed—a low, sweet laugh of sheer happiness. "And if I lead you +astray?"</p> + +<p>"I would follow you down to the nethermost millstone," he vowed.</p> + +<p>Her hand tightened upon his. She paused a moment, looking out over the +stretch of sand that intervened between them and the little +fishing-quay. He had safely negotiated that stretch of sand by daylight, +though even then it had needed an alert eye to detect that slight +ooziness of surface that denoted the presence of the sea-swamp. But by +night, even in that brilliant moonlight, it was barely perceptible. +Columbine herself did not trust to appearances. She had learnt the way +from Adam as a child learns a lesson by heart. He had taught her to know +the danger-spot by the shape of the cliffs above it.</p> + +<p>After a very brief pause to take her bearings, she moved forward with +absolute assurance. Knight accompanied her with unquestioning +confidence. His faith in his own luck was as profound as his faith in +the girl at his side. And the tumult in his veins that night was such as +to make him insensible of danger. The roar of the rising tide +exhilarated him. He walked with the stride of a conqueror, free and +unafraid, his face to the sea.</p> + +<p>Unerringly she led him, but she did not speak again until they had made +the passage and the treacherous morass of sand was left behind.</p> + +<p>Then, with a deep breath, she stopped. "Now we are safe!"</p> + +<p>"Weren't we safe before?" he asked carelessly.</p> + +<p>Her eyes sought his; she gave a little shiver. "Oh, are we ever safe?" +she said. "Especially when we are happy? That quicksand makes one +think."</p> + +<p>"Never spoil the present by thinking of the future!" said Knight +sententiously.</p> + +<p>She took him seriously. "I don't. I want to keep the present just as it +is—just as it is. I would like to stay with you here for ever and ever, +but in another half-hour—in less—the tide will be racing over this +very spot, and we shall be gone." Her voice vibrated; she cast a glance +behind. "One false step," she said, "too sharp a turn, too wide a curve, +and we'd have been in the quicksand! It's like that all over. It's life, +and it's full of danger, whichever way we turn."</p> + +<p>He looked at her curiously. "Why, what has come to you?" he said.</p> + +<p>She caught her breath in a sound that was like a sob. "I don't know," +she said. "It's being so madly happy that has frightened me. It can't +last. It never does last."</p> + +<p>He smiled upon her philosophically. "Then let us make the most of it +while it does!" he said. "Tonight will pass, but—don't forget—there is +tomorrow."</p> + +<p>She answered him feverishly. "The moon may not shine tomorrow."</p> + +<p>He laughed, drawing her to him. "I can do without the moon, queen of my +heart."</p> + +<p>She went into his arms, but she was trembling. "I feel—somehow—as if +someone were watching us," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Exactly my own idea," he said. "The moon is a bit too intrusive +tonight. I shan't weep if there are a few clouds tomorrow."</p> + +<p>She laughed a little dubiously. "We couldn't cross the quicksand if the +light were bad."</p> + +<p>"We could get down to the Point by the cliff-path," he pointed out. "I +went that way only this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Ah! But it is very steep, and it passes Rufus's cottage," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"What of it?" he said indifferently. "I'm sure he sleeps like a log."</p> + +<p>She turned from the subject. "Besides, you must have moonlight for your +picture. And the moon won't last."</p> + +<p>"My picture!" He pressed her suddenly closer. "Do you know what my +picture is going to be?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Shall I?" He turned gently her face up to his own. "Shall I? Dare I?"</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes wide—those glorious, trusting eyes. "But why +should you be afraid to tell me?"</p> + +<p>He laughed again softly, and kissed her lips. "I will make a rough +sketch in the morning and show it you. It won't be a study—only an +idea. You are going to pose for the study."</p> + +<p>"I?" she said, half-startled.</p> + +<p>"You—yes, you!" His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Haven't you realised +yet that you are my inspiration?" he said. "It is going to be the +picture of my life—'Aphrodite the Beautiful!'"</p> + +<p>She quivered afresh at his words. "Am I really—so beautiful?" she +faltered. "Would you think so if—if you didn't love me?"</p> + +<p>"Would I have loved you if you weren't?" laughed Knight. "My darling, +you are exquisite as a passion-flower grown in Paradise. To worship you +is as natural to me as breathing. You are heaven on earth to me."</p> + +<p>"You love me—because of that?"</p> + +<p>"I love you," he answered, "soul and body, because you are you. There is +no other reason, heart of my heart. When my picture of pictures is +painted, then—perhaps—you will see yourself as I see you—and +understand."</p> + +<p>She uttered a quick sigh, clinging to him with a hold that was almost +convulsive. "Ah, yes! To see myself with your eyes! I want that. I shall +know then—how much you love me."</p> + +<p>"Will you? But will you?" he said, softly derisive. "You will have to +show me yourself and your love—all there is of it—before you can do +that."</p> + +<p>She lifted her head from his shoulder. The fire that he had kindled in +her soul was burning in her eyes. "I am all yours—all yours," she told +him passionately. "All that I have to offer is your own."</p> + +<p>His face changed a little. The tender mockery passed, and an expression +that was oddly out of place there succeeded it. "Ah, you shouldn't tell +me that, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was low and held a touch of +pain. "I might be tempted to take too much—more than I have any right +to take."</p> + +<p>"You have a right to all," she said.</p> + +<p>But he shook his head. "No—no! You are too young."</p> + +<p>"Too young to love?" she said, with quick scorn.</p> + +<p>His arm was close about her. "No," he answered soberly. "Only so young +that you may—possibly—make the mistake of loving too well."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Her voice had a startled note; she pressed nearer to +him.</p> + +<p>He lifted a hand and pointed to the silver pathway on the sea. "I mean +that love is just moonshine—just moonshine; the dream of a night that +passes."</p> + +<p>"Not in a night!" she cried, and there was anguish in the words.</p> + +<p>He bent again swiftly and kissed her lips. "No, not in a night, +sweetheart. Not even in two. But at last—at last—<i>tout passe</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Then it isn't love!" she said with conviction.</p> + +<p>He snapped his fingers at the moonlight with a gesture half-humorous, +yet half-defiant. "It is life," he said, "and the irony of life. Don't +be too generous, my queen of the sea! Give me what I ask—of your +graciousness! But—don't offer me more! Perhaps I might take it, and +then—"</p> + +<p>He turned with the words, as if the sentence were ended, and Columbine +went with him, bewildered but too deeply fascinated to feel any serious +misgiving. She did not ask for any further explanation, something about +him restrained her. But she knew no doubt, and when he halted in the +shadow of the deserted quay and took her face once more between his +hands with the one word, "Tomorrow!" she lifted eyes of perfect trust to +his and answered simply, "Yes, tomorrow!"</p> + +<p>And the rapture of his kisses was all-sufficing. She carried away with +her no other memory but that.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h3>CHAPTER V</h3> + +<h3>MIDSUMMER MORNING</h3> + +<br /> +<p>It was two mornings later, very early on Midsummer Day, that Rufus the +Red, looking like a Viking in the crystal atmosphere of sky and sea, +rowed the stranger with great, swinging strokes through the fishing +fleet right out into the burning splendour of the sun. Knight had +entered the boat in the belief that he was going to see something of the +raising of the nets. But it became apparent very soon that Rufus had +other plans for his entertainment, for he passed his father by with no +more than a jerk of the head, which Adam evidently interpreted as a sign +of farewell rather than of greeting, and rowed on without a pause.</p> + +<p>Knight, with his sketch-book beside him, sat in the stern. He had never +taken much interest in Rufus before; but now, seated facing him, with +the giant muscles and grim, unresponsive countenance of the man +perpetually before his eyes, the selecting genius in him awoke and began +to appraise.</p> + +<p>Rufus wore a grey flannel shirt, open at the neck, displaying a broad +red chest, immensely powerful, with a bull-like strength that every +swing of the oars brought into prominence. He had not the appearance of +exerting himself unduly, albeit he was pulling in choppy water against +the tide.</p> + +<p>His blue eyes gazed ever straight at the shore he was leaving. He seemed +so withdrawn into himself as to be oblivious of the fact that he was not +alone. Knight watched him, wondering if any thoughts were stirring in +the slow brain behind that massive forehead. Columbine had declared that +the man was an oaf, and he felt inclined to agree with her. And yet +there was something in the intensity of the fellow's eyes that held his +attention, the possibility of the actual existence of an unknown element +that did not fit into that conception of him. They were not the eyes of +a mere animal. There was no vagueness in their utter stillness. Rather +had they the look of a man who waits.</p> + +<p>Curiosity began to stir within him. He wondered if by judicious probing +he could penetrate the wall of aloofness with which his companion seemed +to be surrounded. It would be interesting to know if the fellow really +possessed any individuality.</p> + +<p>Airily he broke the silence. "Are you going to take me straight into the +temple of the sun? I thought I was out to see the fishing."</p> + +<p>The remote blue eyes came back as it were out of the far distance and +found him. There came to Knight an odd, wholly unwonted, sensation of +smallness. He felt curiously like a pigmy disturbing the meditations of +a giant.</p> + +<p>Rufus looked at him for several seconds of uninterrupted rowing before, +in his deep, resounding voice, he spoke. "They won't be taking up the +nets for a goodish while yet. We shall be back in time."</p> + +<p>"The idea is to give me a run for my money first, eh?" inquired Knight +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>He had not anticipated the sudden fall of the red brows that greeted his +words. He felt as if he had inadvertently trodden upon a match.</p> + +<p>"No," said Rufus slowly, speaking with a strangely careful accent, as if +his mind were concentrated upon being absolutely intelligible to his +listener. "That was not my idea."</p> + +<p>The spirit of adventure awoke in Knight. There was something behind this +granite calmness of demeanour then. He determined to draw it forth, even +though he struck further sparks in the process.</p> + +<p>"No?" he said carelessly. "Then why this pleasure trip? Did you bring me +out here just to show me—the 'Pit of the Burning'?"</p> + +<p>His eyes were upon the dazzling glory of the newly risen sun as he threw +the question. Rufus's massive head and shoulders were strongly outlined +against it. He had ceased to row, but the boat still shot forward, +impelled by the last powerful sweep of the oars, the water streaming +past in a rush of foam.</p> + +<p>Slowly, like the hammer-strokes of a deep-toned bell, came Rufus's voice +in answer. "It wasn't to show you anything I brought you here. It was +just to tell you something."</p> + +<p>"Really?" Knight's interest was thoroughly aroused. He became alert to +the finger-tips. There was something in the deliberate utterance that +conveyed a sense of danger. A wary gleam shone in his eyes under their +level brows. It was one of his principles when dealing with an uncertain +situation never to betray surprise. "And what may this valuable piece of +information be?" he inquired, with a smile.</p> + +<p>Rufus shipped his oars steadily, gravely, with purpose. "I saw you cross +the quicksand last night," he said.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" Knight's voice was of the most casual quality. He was feeling +for his cigarette-case.</p> + +<p>Rufus continued heavily, fatefully, gathering force with every word, as +a loosened rock beginning to roll down a mountain side. "The light was +bad. It was a tomfool thing to do. And Columbine was with you."</p> + +<p>Knight raised his shoulders ever so slightly. "Or rather—I was with +her. Miss Columbine knows the lie of the quicksand. I—do not."</p> + +<p>Rufus went on as if he had not spoken. "There's danger all along that +beach as far as the Spear Point. Adam will tell you the same. When it's +a spring tide there's times when there's such a swell that it's round +the Point and over the pool like a tidal wave. You'll hear the +bell-buoy tolling when there's a swell like that. We call it the Death +Current hereabouts, because there's nothing could live in it, and the +bell always tolls. And once it comes up like that the way to the +cliff-path is under water in less than thirty seconds. And the quicksand +is the only chance left." He paused; it was as if the rock halted for a +moment on the edge of the precipice before plunging finally into the +abyss of silence below. "When there's a ground swell," he said, "the +quicksand will pull a man down quicker than hell. And there's no +one—not Adam himself—can tell the lay of it for certain when the light +is bad."</p> + +<p>His mouth closed upon the words like the snap of a strong spring. Knight +waited for more, but none came. Whatever the thought behind the warning +that he had just uttered it was evident that Rufus had no intention of +giving it expression. He had uttered the girl's name with no more +emotion than that of his father, but it seemed to Knight that by that +very fact he had managed to convey a warning more potent than any that +had followed. Otherwise he would scarcely have taken the trouble to +mention her. The possibility of subtlety in this great, slow-speaking +giant piqued him to a keener interest. He resolved to probe a little +deeper.</p> + +<p>"Miss Columbine is a very reliable guide," he remarked. "If you and Adam +have been her instructors in shore-craft, she does you credit."</p> + +<p>His remark went into utter silence. Rufus, with huge hands loosely +clasped between his knees, appeared to be engrossed in watching the +progress of the boat as she drifted gently on the rising tide. His face +was utterly blank of expression, unless a certain grim fixity could be +described as such.</p> + +<p>Knight became slightly exasperated. Was the fellow no more than the fool +Columbine believed him to be after all? He determined to settle this +question once and for all at a single stroke.</p> + +<p>"I suppose she has all you fellows at Spear Point at her feet?" he said, +with an easy smile. "But I hope you are all too large-minded to grudge a +poor artist the biggest find that has ever come his way."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, but the burning blue eyes were no longer fixed upon +the sparkling ripples through which they had travelled. They were turned +upon Knight's face, searching, piercing, intent. Before he spoke again, +Knight's doubt as to the existence of a brain behind the massive brow +was fully set at rest.</p> + +<p>"There is another thing I have to say," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>Knight's smile broadened encouragingly. "By all means let us hear it!" +he said.</p> + +<p>Rufus proceeded. "You speak of Columbine as if she were just a bit of +amber or such-like as you'd found on the shore and picked up and put in +your pocket. You speak as if she's your property to do what you like +with. That's just what she is not. You're making love to her. I know +it. I seen it. And it's got to stop."</p> + +<p>He spoke with blunt force; his hands were suddenly locked upon each +other in a hard grip.</p> + +<p>Knight lifted his shoulders; his smile had become whimsical. He had +drawn the fellow at last. "I thought you'd seen something," he remarked, +"by your way. But who could help making love to a girl with a face like +that? It would take a heart of stone to resist it. Why, even you"—and +his look challenged Rufus with careless derision—"even you have fallen +to that temptation before now, or I'm much mistaken. But I gather that +your attentions did not meet with a very favourable response."</p> + +<p>He was baiting the animal now, taunting him, with the semi-humorous +malice of the mischievous schoolboy. He had no particular grudge against +Rufus, but he had a lively desire to see him squirm.</p> + +<p>But this desire was not to be gratified. Rufus met the thrust without +the faintest hint of feeling.</p> + +<p>"What you think," he said, in his weighty fashion, "has nothing to do +with me. What you do is all that matters. And I tell you straight"—a +blue flame suddenly leapt up like a volcanic light in the sombre +eyes—"that no man that hasn't honest intentions by her is going to make +love to Columbine."</p> + +<p>"Great Jove!" mocked Knight, with his careless laugh. "And who told you, +most worthy swain, what my intentions were?"</p> + +<p>Rufus leaned towards him slowly, with something of the action of a +crouching beast. "No one told me," he said in a voice that was deeply +menacing. "But—I know."</p> + +<p>Knight made a gesture of supreme indifference. "You are on an entirely +wrong scent," he observed. "But you seem to be enjoying it." He paused +to take out a cigarette. "Have a smoke!" he suggested after a moment, +proffering his case.</p> + +<p>Rufus did not so much as see it. His whole attitude was one of strain, +as if he barely held himself back from springing at the other's throat.</p> + +<p>Knight, however, was elaborately unconscious of any tension. He smiled +and closed his cigarette case. Then with the utmost deliberation he +searched for his matches, found them, and lighted his cigarette.</p> + +<p>Having puffed forth the first deep breath with luxurious enjoyment, he +spoke again. "It is a little difficult to get a man of your stamp to +comprehend the fact that an artist—a true artist—is not one to be +greatly drawn by the grosser things of life, more especially when he is +in ardent pursuit of that elusive flame called inspiration. But you +would hardly grasp a condition in which the body—and the impulses of +the body—are in complete subjection to the aspirations of the mind. +You"—he blew forth a cloud of smoke—"are probably incapable of +realizing that the worship of beauty can be of so purely artistic a +nature as to be practically free from the physical element, certainly +independent of it. I am taking you out of your depth, I know, but it is +hard to make myself clear to an untrained mind. I might try a homely +simile and suggest to you that you go a-fishing, not for love of the +fish, but because it is your profession; but that does not wholly +illustrate my meaning, for I love everything in the way of beauty that +comes my way. I follow beauty like a guiding star. And sometimes—but +seldom, oh, very seldom"—a sudden odd thrill sounded in his voice as if +by accident some hidden string had been struck and set vibrating—"I +fulfil my desire—I realise my dream—I grasp and hold a spark of the +Divine." He paused again, his face to the gold of the dawn and in his +eyes the far-off rapture of one who watches some soaring flight of +fancy. Then abruptly, lightly, he resumed his normal, half-quizzing +demeanour. "Doubtless I weary you," he said. "But you mustn't run away +with the idea that I am in love because I feel myself inspired. It may +sound callous to you, but if Miss Columbine were to lose her exquisite +beauty (which heaven forbid!) I should never voluntarily look upon her +again. That I take it, is the test of love, which, we are told, is blind +to all defects."</p> + +<p>He ceased to speak, and carelessly, yet with obvious enjoyment, he sent +forth another cloud of smoke into the crystal air of the morning.</p> + +<p>He was not looking at Rufus. It was abundantly evident that he had not +realised how near to open violence the young fisherman had been. His +nonchalant explanation was plainly all-sufficing in his own opinion, +and during the very marked silence that followed he displayed no +faintest hint of anxiety or even interest as to the fashion of its +reception.</p> + +<p>The boat was rocking lightly on the swell; the sea all around was +flooded with gold. The great jagged outline of the Spear Point looked +like the castle of a dream. The haze of the newly risen sun had touched +with magic all the world. Knight's eyes were half-closed. He had the +look of a man at peace with himself.</p> + +<p>And Rufus relaxed. The tension went out of his attitude; the volcanic +fires died down. For half a minute or more he sat absolutely passive. +Then slowly, with massive deliberation, he moved, unshipped the oars, +and bent himself to pull. In another ten seconds the boat was rushing +through the water under the compulsion of his powerful strokes, heading +straight for the boats of the fishing fleet that dotted the bay....</p> + +<p>It must have been fully a quarter of an hour later that Knight, having +finished his cigarette, came out of his reverie.</p> + +<p>"And so, you see," he remarked in the tone of one pleasantly rounding +off a conversation, "until my picture is painted I remain the slave of +my dream. I wonder if I have succeeded at all in making myself +intelligible."</p> + +<p>His eyes opened lazily and met Rufus's sombre gaze; they held a laughing +challenge, the easy challenge of the practised fencer who condescends +to try a bout with ignorance.</p> + +<p>Stolidly Rufus met the look. If he realised the challenge he did not +accept it. He had barred himself in once more behind an impenetrable +wall of unresponsiveness. His gaze was once more obscure and bovine. All +hint of violence was gone from his bearing. Only solid force +remained—the force that drove the boat strongly, unerringly, through +the golden-crested waves.</p> + +<p>"If you're going to do a picture of Columbine," he said slowly, "I hope +it'll be a good one."</p> + +<p>"It will probably be—great," said Knight, and flicked some ash from his +sleeve with the complacent air of a man who has accomplished his +purpose.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h3>CHAPTER VI</h3> + +<h3>THE MIDSUMMER MOON</h3> + +<br /> +<p>It was very late that night, just as the first long rays of a full moon +streamed across a dreaming sea, that the door that led out of the +conservatory at The Ship softly opened, and a slim figure, clad in a +long, dark garment, flitted forth. Neither to right nor left did it +glance, but, closing the door without sound, slipped out over the grass +almost as if it moved on wings, and so down to the beach-path that wound +steeply to the shore.</p> + +<p>The tide was rising with the moon; the roar of it swelled and sank like +the mighty breathing of a giant. The waters shone in the gathering light +in a vast silver shimmer almost too dazzling for the eye to endure. In +another hour it would be as light as day. A few dim clouds were floating +over the stars, filmy wisps that had escaped from the ragged edges of a +dark curtain that had veiled the sun before its time. The breeze that +had blown them free wandered far overhead; below, especially on the +shore, it was almost tropically warm, and no breath of air seemed to +stir.</p> + +<p>Swiftly went the flitting figure, like a brown moth drawn by the +glitter of the moonlight. There was no other living thing in sight.</p> + +<p>All the lights of Spear Point village had gone out long since. Rufus's +cottage, with its slip of garden on the shelf of the cliff, was no more +than a faint blur of white against the towering sandstone behind. No +light had shone there all the evening, for the daylight had not died +till ten, and he was often in bed at that hour. The fishing fleet would +be out again with the dawn if the weather held, or even earlier; and the +hours of sleep were precious.</p> + +<p>Down on the rocks on the edge of the sleeping pool a grey shadow lurked +amidst darker shadows. A faint scent of cigarette smoke hung about the +silver beach—a drifting suggestion intangible as the magic of the +night.</p> + +<p>Could it have been this faint, floating fragrance that drew the flitting +brown moth by way of the quicksand, swiftly, swiftly, along the moonlit +shore travelling with mysterious certainty, irresistibly attracted? +There was no pause in its rapid progress, though the course it followed +was tortuous. It pursued, with absolute confidence, an invisible, +winding path. And ever the roar of the sea grew louder and louder.</p> + +<p>Across the pool, carved in the blackness of the outstretched curving +scimitar of rock, there was a ledge, washed smooth by every tide, but a +foot or more above the water when the tide was out. It was inaccessible +save by way of the pool itself, and yet it had the look of a pathway cut +in the face of the Spear Point Rock. The moonlight gleamed upon its wet +surface. In the very centre of the great curving rock there was a deeper +darkness that might have been a cave.</p> + +<p>It must have been after midnight when the little brown figure that had +flitted so securely through the quicksand came with its noiseless feet +over the tumble of rocks that lay about the pool, and the shadow that +lurked in the shadows rose up and became a man.</p> + +<p>They met on the edge of the pool, but there was about the lesser form a +hesitancy of movement, a shyness, almost a wildness, that seemed as if +it would end in flight.</p> + +<p>But the man remained quite motionless, and in a moment or two the +impulse passed or was controlled. Two quivering hands came forth to him +as if in supplication.</p> + +<p>"So you are waiting!" a low voice said.</p> + +<p>He took the hands, bending to her. The moonlight made his eyes gleam +with a strange intensity.</p> + +<p>"I have been waiting a long time," he said.</p> + +<p>Even then she made a small, fluttering movement backward, as if she +would evade him. And then with a sharp sob she conquered her reluctance +again. She gave herself into his arms.</p> + +<p>He held her closely, passionately. He kissed her face, her neck, her +bosom, as if he would devour the sweetness of her in a few mad moments +of utter abandonment.</p> + +<p>But in a little he checked himself. "You are so late, sweetheart. The +tide won't wait for us. There will be time for this—afterwards."</p> + +<p>She lay burning and quivering against his heart. "There is tomorrow," +she whispered, clinging to him.</p> + +<p>He kissed her again. "Yes, there is tomorrow. But who can tell what may +happen then? There will never be such a night as this again, sweet. See +the light against that rock! It is a marvel of black and white, and I +swear that the pool is green. There is magic abroad tonight. Let me +catch it! Let me catch it! Afterwards!—when the tide comes up—we will +drink our fill of love."</p> + +<p>He spoke as if urged by strong excitement, and having spoken his arms +relaxed. But she clung to him still.</p> + +<p>"Oh, darling, I am frightened—I am frightened! I couldn't come sooner. +I had a feeling—of being watched. I nearly—very nearly—didn't come at +all. And now I am here—I feel—I feel—afraid."</p> + +<p>He bent his face to hers again. His hand rested lightly, reassuringly +upon her head. "No, no! There is nothing to frighten you, my +passion-flower. If you had only come to me sooner it would have made it +easier for you. But now there is no time." The soothing note in his +voice sounded oddly strained, as though an undernote of fever throbbed +below it. "You're not going to fail me," he urged softly. "Think how +much it means to you—to me! And there is only half an hour left, dear. +Give me that half-hour to catch the magic! Then—when the tide comes +up"—his voice sank, he whispered deeply into her ear—"I will teach you +the greatest magic this old world knows."</p> + +<p>She thrilled at his words, thrilled through her trembling. She lifted +her face to the moonlight. "I love you!" she said. "Oh, I love you!"</p> + +<p>"And you will do this one thing for me?" he urged.</p> + +<p>She threw her arms wide. "I would die for you," she told him +passionately.</p> + +<p>A moment she stood so, then with a swift movement that had in it +something of fierce surrender she sprang away from him on to the flat +rock above the pool where but two nights before the gates of love's +wonderland had first opened to her.</p> + +<p>Here for a second she stood, motionless it seemed. And then strangely, +amazingly, she moved again. The brown garment slipped from her, and like +a streak of light, she was gone, and the still pool received her with a +rippling splash as of fairy laughter.</p> + +<p>The man on the brink drew a short, hard breath, and put his hand to his +eyes as if dazed. And from beyond the Spear Point there sounded the deep +tolling of the bell-buoy as it rocked on the rising tide.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VII</h3> + +<h3>THE DEATH CURRENT</h3> + +<br /> +<p>The pool was still again, still as a sheet of glass, reflecting the +midnight glory of the moon. It was climbing high in the sky, and the +cloud-wreaths were mounting towards it as incense smoke from an altar. +The thick, black curtain that hung in the west was growing like a +monstrous shadow, threatening to overspread the whole earth.</p> + +<p>Down on the silver beach, crouched on one of the rocks that bordered the +shining pool, Knight worked with fevered intensity to catch the magic of +the hour. The light was wonderful. The pool shone strangely, deeply +green; the rocks about it might have been delicately carved in ivory. +And across the pool, clear-cut against the utter darkness of the Spear +Point Rock, stood Aphrodite the Beautiful, clad in some green +translucent draperies, her black hair loose about her, her white arms +outstretched to the moonlight, her face—exquisite as a flower—upturned +to meet the glory. She was like a dream too wonderful to be true, save +for the passion that lived in her eyes. That was vivid, that was +poignant—the fire of sacrifice burning inwardly.</p> + +<p>The man worked on as one driven by a ruthless force. His teeth were +clenched upon his lower lip. His hands were shaking, and yet he knew +that what he did was too superb for criticism. It was the work of +genius—the driving force within that would not let him pause to listen +to the wild urgings of his heart. That might come after. But this—this +power that compelled was supreme. While it gripped him he was not his +own master. He was, as he himself had said, a slave.</p> + +<p>And while he worked at its behest, watching the wonderful thing that +inspiration was weaving by his hand, scarcely conscious of effort, +though the perspiration was streaming down his face, he whispered over +and over between his clenched teeth the title of the picture that was to +astonish the world—"The Goddess Veiled in Foam."</p> + +<p>There was no foam as yet on the pool, but he remembered how two nights +before he had seen the breaking of the first wave that had turned it +into a seething cauldron of surf. That was what he wanted now—just the +first great wave washing over her exquisite feet and flinging its +garment of spray like a flimsy veil over her perfect form. He wanted +that as he wanted nothing else on earth. And then—then—he would catch +his dream, he would chain for ever the fairy vision that might never be +granted again.</p> + +<p>There came a boom like a distant gunshot on the other side of the Spear +Point Rock, and again, but very far away, there sounded the tolling of +the bell beyond the reef. The man's heart gave a great leap. It was +coming!</p> + +<p>In the same moment the girl's voice came to him across the pool, +mingling with the rushing of great waters.</p> + +<p>"The tide is coming up fast. It won't be safe much longer."</p> + +<p>"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried back almost frantically. "It is +absolutely safe. I will swim across and help you if you are afraid. But +wait—wait just a few moments more!"</p> + +<p>She did not urge him. Her surrender had been too complete. Perhaps his +promise reassured her, or perhaps she did not fully realise the danger. +She waited motionless and the man worked on.</p> + +<p>Again there came that sound that was like the report of a distant gun, +and the roaring of the sea swelled to tumult.</p> + +<p>"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried again.</p> + +<p>But she could not have heard him in the overwhelming rush of the sea.</p> + +<p>There came a sudden dimness. A cloud had drifted over the moon, and +Knight looked up and cursed it with furious impatience. It passed, and +he saw her again—his vision, the goddess of his dream, still as the +rock behind her, yet splendidly alive. He bent himself again to his +work. Would that wave never come to veil her in sparkling raiment of +foam?</p> + +<p>Ah! At last! The peace of the pool was shattered. A shining wave, +curved, green, transparent, gleamed round the corner, ran, swift as a +flame, along the rock, and broke with a thunderous roar in a torrent of +snow-white surf. In a moment the pool was a seething tumult of water, +and in that moment Knight saw his goddess as the artist in him had +yearned to see her, her beauty half-veiled and half-revealed in a +shimmering robe of foam.</p> + +<p>The vision vanished. Another cloud had drifted over the moon. Only the +swirling water remained.</p> + +<p>Again he lifted his head to curse the fate that baffled him, and as he +did so a hand came suddenly from the darkness behind and gripped him by +the shoulder. A voice that was like the angry bellow of a bull roared in +his ear.</p> + +<p>What it said he did not hear; so amazed was he by the utter +unexpectedness of the attack. Before he had time to realise what was +happening, he was shaken with furious force and flung aside. He +fell—and his precious work fell with him—on the very edge of that +swirling pool....</p> + +<p>Seconds later, when the moon gleamed out again, he was still frantically +groping for it on the stones. The roar of the sea was terrible and +imminent, like the roar of a destroying monster racing upon its prey, +and from the caves there came a hollow groaning as of chained spirits +under the earth.</p> + +<p>The light flashed away again just as he spied his treasure on the brink +of the dashing water. He sprang to save it, intent upon naught else; +but in that instant there came a roar such as he had not heard before—a +sound so compelling, so nerve-shattering, that even he was arrested, +entrapped as it were by a horror of crashing elements that made him +wonder if all the fiends in hell were fighting for his soul. And, as he +paused, the swirl of a great wave caught him in the darkness like the +blow of a concrete thing, nearly flinging him backwards. He staggered, +for the first time stricken with fear, and then in the howling uproar of +that dreadful place there came to him like a searchlight wheeling +inwards the thought of the girl. The water receded from him, leaving him +drenched, almost dazed, but a voice within—an urgent, insistent +voice—clamoured that his safety was at stake, his life a matter of mere +moments if he lingered. This was the Death Current of which Rufus had +warned him only that afternoon. Had not the bell-buoy been tolling to +deaf ears for some time past? The Death Current that came like a tidal +wave! And nothing could live in it. The girl—surely the girl had been +washed off her ledge and overwhelmed in the flood before it had reached +him. Possibly Rufus would manage to save her, for that it was Rufus who +had so savagely sprung upon him he had no doubt; but he himself was +powerless. If he saved his own life it would be by a miracle. Had not +the fellow warned him that retreat by way of the cliff-path would be cut +off in thirty seconds when the tide raced up like that? And if he failed +to reach that, only the quicksand was left—the quicksand that dragged +a man down quicker than hell!</p> + +<p>He set his teeth and turned his face to the cliff. A light was shining +half-way up it—that must come from the window of Rufus's cottage. He +took it as a beacon, and began to stumble through the howling darkness +towards it. He knew the cliff-path. He had come down it only that night +to make sure that there was no one spying upon them. The cottage had +been shut and dark then, the little garden empty. He had concluded that +Rufus had gone early to rest after a long day with the nets, and had +passed on securely to wait for Columbine on the edge of their magic +pool. But what he did not know was exactly where the cliff-path ran out +on to the beach. The opening was close to the Caves and sheltered by +rocks. Could he find it in this infernal darkness? Could he ever make +his way to it in time? With the waves crashing behind him he struggled +desperately towards the blackness of the cliffs.</p> + +<p>The rocks under his feet were wet and slippery. He fought his way over +them, feeling as if a hundred demons were in league to hold him back. +The swirl of the incoming tide sounded in his ears like a monstrous +chant of death. Again and again he slipped and fell, and yet again he +dragged himself up, grimly determined to fight the desperate battle to +the last gasp. The thought of Columbine had gone wholly from him, even +as the thought of his lost treasure. Only the elemental desire of life +gripped him, vital and urgent, forcing him to the greatest physical +effort he had ever made. He went like a goaded animal, savage, stubborn, +fiercely surmounting every obstacle, driven not so much by fear as by a +furious determination to frustrate the fate that menaced him.</p> + +<p>It must have been nearly a minute later that the moon shone forth again, +throwing gleaming streaks of brightness upon the mighty breakers that +had swallowed the magic pool. They were riding in past the Spear Point +in majestic and unending procession, and the rocks that surrounded the +pool were already deeply covered. The surf of one great wave was rushing +over the beach to the Caves, and the spray of it blew over Knight, +drenching him from head to foot. Desperately, by that passing gleam of +moonlight, he searched for the opening of the path, the foam of the +oncoming procession already swirling about his feet. He spied it +suddenly at length, and in the same instant something within him—could +it have been his heart?—dropped abruptly like a loosened weight to the +very depths of his being. The way of escape in that direction was +already cut off. In the darkness he had not taken a straight course, and +it was too late.</p> + +<p>Wildly he turned—like a hunted animal seeking refuge. With great leaps +and gigantic effort, he made for the open beach. He reached it, reached +the loose dry sand so soon to be covered by the roaring tumult of great +waters. His eyes glared out over the level stretch that intervened +between the Spear Point Rock and the harbour quay. The tide would not be +over it yet.</p> + +<p>He flung his last defiance to the fate that relentlessly hunted him as +he took the only alternative, and set himself to traverse the way of the +quicksand—that dragged a man down quicker than hell.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VIII</h3> + +<h3>THE BOON</h3> + +<br /> +<p>Someone was mounting the steep cliff-path that led to Rufus's cottage—a +man, square-built and powerful, who carried a burden. The moon shone +dimly upon his progress through a veil of drifting cloud. He was +streaming with water at every step, but he moved as if his drenched +clothing were in no way a hindrance—steadily, strongly, with stubborn +fixity of purpose. The burden he carried hung limply in his arms, and +over his shoulder there drifted a heavy mass of wet, black hair.</p> + +<p>He came at length on his firm, bare feet to the little gate that led to +the lonely cottage, and, without pausing, passed through. The cottage +door was ajar. He pushed it back and entered, closing it, even as he did +so, with a backward fling of the heel. Then, in the tiny living-room, by +the light of the lamp that shone in the window, he laid his burden down.</p> + +<p>White and cold, she lay with closed eyes upon the little sofa, +motionless and beautiful as a statue recumbent upon a tomb, her drenched +draperies clinging about her. He stood for a second looking upon her; +then, still with the absolute steadiness of set purpose, he turned and +went into the inner room.</p> + +<p>He came back with a blanket, and stooping, he lifted the limp form and, +with a certain deftness that seemed a part of his immovable resolution, +he wrapped it in the rough grey folds.</p> + +<p>It was while he was doing this that a sudden sigh came from between the +parted lips, and the closed eyes flashed open.</p> + +<p>They gazed upon him in bewilderment, but he continued his ministrations +with grim persistence and an almost bovine expression of countenance. +Only when two hands came quivering out of the enveloping blanket and +pushed him desperately away did he desist. He straightened himself then +and turned away.</p> + +<p>"You'll be—all right," he said in his deep voice.</p> + +<p>Then Columbine started up on her elbow, clutching wildly at the blanket, +drawing it close about her. The cold stillness of her was gone, as +though a sudden flame had scorched her. Her face, her neck, her whole +body were burning, burning.</p> + +<p>"What—what happened?" she gasped. "You—why have you brought me—here?"</p> + +<p>He did not look at her.</p> + +<p>"It was the nearest place," he said. "The Death Current caught you, and +you were stunned. I got you out."</p> + +<p>"You—got me—out!" she repeated, saying the words slowly as if she +were teaching herself a lesson.</p> + +<p>He nodded his great head.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I came up in time. I saw what would happen. There's often a tidal +wave about now. I thought you knew that—thought Adam would have told +you. He"—his voice suddenly went a tone deeper—"knew it. I told him +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" She uttered the word upon a swift intake of breath; her startled +eyes suddenly dilated. "Where is he?" she said.</p> + +<p>The man's huge frame stiffened at the question; she saw his hands +clench. But he kept his head turned from her; she could not see his +face. There followed a pause that seemed to her fevered imagination to +have something deadly in it. Then: "I hope he's gone where he belongs," +said Rufus, with terrible deliberation.</p> + +<p>Her cry of agony cut across his last word like the severing of a taut +string. She leapt to her feet, in that moment of anguish supremely +forgetful of self.</p> + +<p>"Rufus!" she cried, and wildly gripped his arm, "You've never—left +him—to be—killed!"</p> + +<p>She felt his muscles harden in grim resistance to her grasp. She saw +that his averted face was set like a stone mask.</p> + +<p>"It's none of my business," he said, speaking through rigid lips.</p> + +<p>She turned from him with a gasp of horror and sprang for the door. But +in an instant he wheeled, thrust out a great arm, and caught her. His +fingers closed upon her bare shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!" he said.</p> + +<p>She resisted him frantically, bending now this way, now that. But he +held her in spite of it, held her, and slowly brought her nearer to him.</p> + +<p>"Stand still!" he said.</p> + +<p>His voice came upon her like a blow. She flinched at the sound of +it—flinched and obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" she gasped out. "He—may be drowning—at this moment!"</p> + +<p>"Let him drown!" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>She lifted her tortured face in frenzied protest, but it died upon her +lips. For in that moment she met his eyes, and the blazing blue of them +made her feel as though spirit had been poured upon her flame, consuming +her. Words failed her utterly. She stood palpitating in his hold, not +breathing—a wild thing trapped.</p> + +<p>Slowly he bent towards her. "Let him drown!" he said again. "Do you +think I'm going to let you throw your life away for a cur like that?"</p> + +<p>There was uncloaked ferocity in the question. His hold was merciless.</p> + +<p>"I saved you," he said. "It wasn't especially easy. But I did it. For +the matter of that, I'd have gone through hell for you. And do you think +I'm going to let you go again—now?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer him. Only her lips moved stiffly, as though they +formed words she could not utter. She could not take her eyes from his, +though his looks seared her through and through.</p> + +<p>He went on, deeply, with gathering force. "He'd have let you be swept +away. He didn't care. All he wanted was to get you for his picture. That +was all he made love to you for. He'd have sacrificed you to the devil +for that. You don't believe me, maybe, but I know—I know!"</p> + +<p>There was savage certainty in the reiterated words, and the girl +recoiled from them, her face like death. But he held her still, +implacably, relentlessly.</p> + +<p>"That's all he wants of you," he said. "To use you for his purpose, and +then—to throw you aside. Why"—and he suddenly showed his clenched +teeth—"he dared—damn him!—he dared to tell me so!"</p> + +<p>"He—told you!" Her lips spoke the words at last, but they seemed to +come from a long way off.</p> + +<p>"Yes." With suppressed violence he answered her. "He didn't put it that +way—being a gentleman! But he took care to make me understand that he +only wanted you for the sake of his accursed picture. That's the only +thing that counts with him, and he's the sort not to care what he does +to get it. He wouldn't have got you—like this—if he hadn't made you +love him first. I know that too—as well as if you'd told me."</p> + +<p>The passion in his voice was rising, and it was as if the heat of it +rekindled her animation. With a jerky movement she flung up both her +hands, grasping tensely the arms that held her so rigidly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I love him!" she said, and her voice rang wildly. "I love him! I +don't care what he is! Rufus—Rufus—oh, for the love of Heaven, don't +let him drown!" The words rushed out desperately; it was as if her whole +nature, all her pride, all her courage, were flung into that frantic +appeal. She clung to the man with straining entreaty. "Oh, go down and +save him!" she begged. "I'll do anything for you in return—anything you +like to ask! Only do this one thing for me! He may have escaped the +tide. If so, he'll try the quicksand, and he don't know the lie of it! +Rufus, you wouldn't want—your worst enemy—to die like that!"</p> + +<p>She broke off, wildly sobbing, yet still clinging to him in agonised +entreaty. The man's face, with its crude ferocity, the untamed glitter +of its fiery eyes, was still bent to hers, but she no longer shrank from +it. The power that moved her was too immense to be swayed by lesser +things. His attitude no longer affected her, one way or another. It had +ceased to count, so that she only wrenched from him this one great boon.</p> + +<p>And Rufus must have realised the fact, for he stood up sharply and +backed against the door, releasing her.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what you're saying," he said gruffly.</p> + +<p>"I do—I do!" With anguished reiteration she answered him. "I'm not the +sort that offers and then doesn't pay. Oh, don't waste time talking! +Every moment may be his last. Go down—go down to the shore! You're so +strong. Save him—save him!"</p> + +<p>She beat her clasped hands against his broad chest, till abruptly he put +up his own again and held them still.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!" For the second time he uttered her name, and for the second +time the command in his voice caught and compelled her. "Just you listen +a minute!" he said, and as he spoke his look swept her with a mastery +that dominated even her agony. "If I go and save the cur, you've done +with him for ever—you swear that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Only go—only go!"</p> + +<p>But he remained square and resolute against the door. "And you'll stay +here—you swear to stay here till I come back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she cried again.</p> + +<p>He bent to her once more; his gaze possessed her. "And—afterwards?" he +said, his voice deep and very low.</p> + +<p>Her eyes had been raised to his; they closed suddenly and sharply, as if +to shut him out. "I will give you—all I have," she said, and shivered, +violently, uncontrollably.</p> + +<p>The next instant his hands were gone from hers, and she was free.</p> + +<p>Trembling, she sank upon the sofa, hiding her face; and even as she did +so the banging of the cottage door told her he was gone.</p> + +<p>Thereafter she sat crouched for a long, long time in the paralysis of a +great fear.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h3>CHAPTER IX</h3> + +<h3>THE VISION</h3> + +<br /> +<p>Down on the howling shore the great waves were hurling themselves in +vast cataracts of snow-white surf that shone, dimly radiant, in the +fitful moonlight. The sky was covered with broken clouds, and a rising +storm-wind blew in gusts along the cliffs. The peace of the night was +utterly shattered, the shining glory had departed. A wild and desolate +grandeur had succeeded it.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder if there was some trouble tonight," said Adam, awaking +to the tumult.</p> + +<p>"Lor' bless you!" said Mrs. Peck sensibly. "Wait till it comes."</p> + +<p>The hint of impatience that marked her speech was not without reason, +for a gale was to Adam as the sound of a gun to a sporting-dog. It +invariably aroused him, even from the deepest slumber, to a state of +alert expectation that to a woman as hard-working as Mrs. Peck was most +exceptionally trying. When Adam scented disaster at sea there was no +peace for either. As she was wont to remark, being the wife of the +lifeboat coxswain wasn't all jam, not by any manner of means it wasn't. +She knew now, by the way Adam turned, and checked his breathing to +listen, that the final disturbance was not far off.</p> + +<p>She herself feigned sleep, possibly in the hope of provoking him to +consideration for her weariness; but she knew the effort to be quite +futile even as she made it. Adam the coxswain was considerate only for +those who might be in peril. At the next heavy gust that rattled the +windows he flung the bedclothes back without the smallest thought for +his companion's comfort, and tumbled on to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Just going to have a look round," he said. "I'll lay the fire in the +kitchen, and you be ready to light it in a jiffy if wanted!"</p> + +<p>That was so like Adam. He could think of nothing but possible victims of +the storm. Mrs. Peck sniffed, and gathered the bedclothes back about her +in expressive silence. It was quite useless to argue with Adam when he +got the jumps. Experience had taught her that long since. She could only +resume her broken rest and hope that it might not be again disturbed.</p> + +<p>Adam pulled on his clothes with his usual brisk deftness of movement and +went downstairs. The rising storm was calling him, and he could not be +deaf to the call. He had belonged to the lifeboat ever since he had come +to man's estate, and never a storm arose but he held himself ready for +service.</p> + +<p>His first, almost instinctive, action was to take the key of the +lifeboat house from its nail in the kitchen. Then, whistling cheerily +below his breath, he set about laying the fire. The kettles were +already filled. Mrs. Peck always saw to that before retiring. There was +milk in the pantry, brandy in the cupboard. According to invariable +custom, all was in readiness for any possible emergency, and having +satisfied himself that this was the case, he thrust his bare feet into +boots and went to the door.</p> + +<p>It had begun to rain. Great drops pattered down upon him as he emerged, +and he turned back to clap his sou'wester upon his head. Then, without +further preparation, he sallied forth.</p> + +<p>As he went down the road that ran to the quay a terrible streak of +lightning reft the dark sky, and the wild crash of thunder that followed +drowned even the roaring babel of the sea.</p> + +<p>It did not check his progress; he was never one to be easily daunted. It +was contrary to his very nature to seek shelter in a storm. He went +swinging on to the very edge of the quay, and there stood facing the +violence of the waves, the fierce turmoil of striving elements.</p> + +<p>The tide was extraordinarily high—such a tide as he believed he had +never seen before in summer. He stood in the pouring rain and looked +first one way, then the other, with a quick birdlike scrutiny, but as +far as his eyes could pierce he saw only an empty desolation of waters. +There seemed none in need of his help that night.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Rufus is awake," he speculated to the angry tumult.</p> + +<p>Nearly three miles out from the Spear Point there was a lighthouse with +a revolving light. That light shone towards him now, casting a weird +radiance across the tossing water, and as if in accompaniment to the +warning gleam he heard the deep toll of the bell-buoy that rocked upon +the swell.</p> + +<p>Adam turned about. "I'll go and knock up Rufus," he decided. "It'd be a +shame to miss a night like this."</p> + +<p>Again the lightning rent the sky, and the whole great outline of the +Spear Point was revealed in one awful second of intolerable radiance. +Adam's keen eye chanced to be upon it, and he saw it in such detail as +the strongest sunlight could never have achieved. The brightness +dazzled, almost shocked him, but there was something besides the +brightness that sent an odd sensation through him—a curious, sick +feeling as if he had suddenly received a blow between the shoulders. For +in that fraction of time he had seen something which reason, clamouring +against the evidence of his senses, declared to be the impossible. He +had seen a human figure—the figure of his son—clinging to the naked +face of the rock, hanging between sea and sky where scarcely a bird +could have found foothold, while something—a grey, indistinguishable +burden—hung limp across his shoulder, weighing him down.</p> + +<p>The thunder was still rolling around him when with a great shake Adam +pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"I'm dreaming!" he told himself angrily. "A man couldn't ever climb the +Spear Point, let alone live on a ledge that wouldn't harbour a sea-gull +if he did. I'll go round to Rufus. I'll go round and knock him up."</p> + +<p>With the words he tramped off through the rushing rain, and leaving the +quay, struck upwards along the cliff in the direction of the narrow path +that ran down to Rufus's dwelling above the Spear Point Caves.</p> + +<p>Despite the spareness of his frame, he climbed the ascent with a +rapidity that made him gasp. The wind also was against him, blowing in +strong gusts, and the raging of the sea below was as the roaring of a +thousand torrents. The great waves boomed against the cliff far beyond +the summer watermark. They had long since covered the quicksand, and he +thought he felt the ground shake with the shock of them.</p> + +<p>He reached at length the gap in the cliff that led down to the cottage, +and here he paused; for the descent was sharp, and the light that still +filtered through the dense storm-clouds was very dim. But in a few +seconds another great flash lit up the whole wild scene. He saw again +the Spear Point Rock standing out, scimitar-like, in the sea. The water +was dashing all around it. It stood up, grim and unapproachable, the +great waves flinging their mighty clouds of spray over its stark summit. +But—possibly because he viewed it from above instead of from below—he +saw naught beside that grand and futile struggle of the elements.</p> + +<p>Reassured, he started in the rain and darkness down the twisting path +that led to his old home. He knew every foot of the way, but even so, he +stumbled once or twice in the gloom.</p> + +<p>The roaring of the sea sounded terribly near when finally he reached the +little garden-gate and caught the ray of the lamp in the window.</p> + +<p>Evidently it had awakened Rufus also. Almost unconsciously he quickened +his pace as he went up the path.</p> + +<p>He reached the door and fumbled for the latch; but ere he found it, it +was flung open, and a strange and tragic figure met him on the +threshold.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried a woman's voice. "It is you! Where—where is Rufus?"</p> + +<p>Adam's keen and birdlike eyes nearly leapt from his head. +"Why—Columbine?" he said.</p> + +<p>She was dressed in Rufus's suit of navy serge. It hung about her in +clumsy folds, and over her shoulders and about her snow-white throat her +glorious hair streamed like a black veil, still wet and shining in the +lamplight.</p> + +<p>She flung out her hands to him in piteous appeal. "Oh, Adam!" she said. +"Have you seen them? Have you seen Rufus? He went—he went an hour +ago—to save Mr. Knight from the quicksand!"</p> + +<p>Adam's quick brain leapt to instant activity. The girl's presence +baffled him, but it was no time for explanation. In some way she had +discovered Knight in danger, and had rushed to Rufus for help. +Then—then—that vision of his from the quay—that flash of +revelation—had been no dream, after all! He had seen Rufus indeed—and +probably for the last time in his life.</p> + +<p>He stood, struck dumb for the moment, recalling every detail of the +clinging figure that had hung above the leaping waves. Then the tragedy +in Columbine's face made him pull himself together once more. He took +her trembling hands.</p> + +<p>"It's no good, my girl," he said. "I seen him. Yes, I seen him. I didn't +believe my eyes, but I know now it was true. He was hanging on to a bit +of rock half-way up the Spear Point, and t'other chap was lying across +his shoulder. They've both been washed away by this, for the water's +still coming up. There's not the ghost of a chance for 'em. I say it +'cos I know—not the ghost of a chance!"</p> + +<p>A wild cry broke from the girl's lips. She wrenched her hands free and +beat them upon her breast. Then suddenly a burst of wild tears came to +her. She leaned against the cottage wall and sobbed in an agony that +possessed her, soul and body.</p> + +<p>Adam stood and looked at her. There was something terrible about the +abandonment of her grief. It made him feel that his own was almost +insignificant beside it. He had never seen any woman weep like that +before. The anguish of it went through his heart.</p> + +<p>He moved at length, laid a very gentle hand upon her shaking shoulder.</p> + +<p>"My girl—my girl!" he said. "Don't take on so! I never thought as you +cared a ha'p'orth for poor Rufus, though o' course I always knew as he +loved you like mad."</p> + +<p>She bowed herself lower under his hand. "And now I've killed him!" she +gasped forth inarticulately. "I've killed him!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" protested Adam. "That ain't reasonable. Come, now—you're +distraught! You don't know what you're saying. My Rufus is a fine chap. +He'd take most any risk to save a life. He's got a big heart in him, and +he don't stop to count the cost."</p> + +<p>She uncovered her face sharply and looked at him, so that he clearly saw +the ravages that her distress had wrought. "That wasn't what made him +go," she said. "He wouldn't have gone but for me. It was I as made him +go. But I thought he'd be in time. I hoped he'd be in time." Her voice +rose wildly; she wrung her hands. "Oh, can't you do anything? Can't you +take out the lifeboat? There must be some way—surely there must be some +way—of saving them!"</p> + +<p>But Adam shook his head. "He's past our help," he said. "There's no boat +could live among them rocks in such a tide as this. We couldn't get +anywhere near. No—no, there's nothing we can do. The lad's gone—my +Rufus—finest chap along the shore, if he was my son. Never thought as +he'd go before me—never thought—never thought!"</p> + +<p>The loud roll of the waves filled the bitter silence that followed, but +the battering of the rain upon the cottage roof was decreasing. The +storm was no longer overhead.</p> + +<p>Adam leaned on the back of a chair with his head in his hands. All the +wiry activity seemed to have gone out of him. He looked old and broken.</p> + +<p>The girl stood motionless behind him. A strange impassivity had +succeeded her last fruitless appeal, as though through excess of +suffering her faculties were numbed, animation itself were suspended. +She leaned against the wall, staring with wide, tragic eyes at the flame +of the lamp that stood in the window. Her arms hung stiffly at her +sides, and the hands were clenched. She seemed to be gazing upon +unutterable things.</p> + +<p>There was nothing to be done—nothing to be done! Till the waves had +spent their fury, till that raging sea went down, they were as helpless +as babes to stay the hand of Fate. No boat could live in that fearful +turmoil of water. Adam had said it, and she knew that what he said was +true, knew by the utter dejection of his attitude, the completeness of +his despair. She had never seen Adam in despair before; probably no one +had ever seen him as he was now. He was a man to strain every nerve +while the faintest ray of hope remained. He had faced many a furious +storm, saved many a life that had been given up for lost by other men. +But now he could do nothing, and he crouched there—an old and broken +man—for the first time realising his helplessness.</p> + +<p>A long time passed. The only sound within the cottage was the ticking of +a grandfather-clock in a corner, while without the great sound of the +breaking seas filled all the world. The storm above had passed. Now the +thunder-blast no longer shook the cottage. A faint greyness had begun to +show beyond the lamp in the window. The dawn was drawing near.</p> + +<p>As one awaking from a trance of terrible visions, the girl drew a deep +breath and spoke:</p> + +<p>"Adam!"</p> + +<p>He did not stir. He had not stirred for the greater part of an hour.</p> + +<p>She made a curiously jerky movement, as if she wrenched herself free +from some constricting hold. She went to the bowed, despairing figure.</p> + +<p>"Adam, the day is breaking. The tide must be on the turn. Shan't we go?"</p> + +<p>He stood up with the gesture of an old man. "What's the good?" he said. +"Do you think I want to see my boy's dead body left behind by the sea?"</p> + +<p>She shivered at the question. "But we can't stay here," she urged. "Aunt +Liza, you know—she'll be wondering."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" He passed his hand over his eyes. He was swaying a little as he +stood. She supported his elbow, for he seemed to have lost control of +his limbs. He stared at her in a dazed way. "You'd better go and tell +your Aunt Liza," he said. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Maybe my +boy'll come and talk to me if I'm alone. We're partners, you know, and +we lived here a good many years alone together. He wouldn't leave +me—not for the long voyage—without a word. Yes, you go, my dear, you +go! I'll stay here and wait for him."</p> + +<p>She saw that no persuasion of hers would move him, and it seemed useless +to remain. An intolerable restlessness urged her, moreover, to be gone. +The awful inertia of the past two hours had turned into a fevered desire +for action. It was the swing of the pendulum, and she felt that if she +did not respond to it she would go mad.</p> + +<p>Her knees were still trembling under her, but she controlled them and +turned to the door. As she lifted the latch she looked back and saw Adam +drop heavily into the chair upon which he had leaned for so long. His +attitude was one of almost stubborn patience, but it was evident that +her presence had ceased to count with him. He was waiting—she saw it +clearly in every line of him—waiting to bid his boy Godspeed ere he +fared forth finally on the long voyage from which there is no return.</p> + +<p>A sharp sob rose in her throat. She caught her hand to it, forcing it +back. Then, barefooted, she stepped out into the grey dimness that +veiled all things, and left the door of Rufus's cottage open behind +her.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h3>CHAPTER X</h3> + +<h3>THE LONG VOYAGE</h3> + +<br /> +<p>She never remembered afterwards how she accomplished the homeward +journey. The rough stones cut her feet again and again, but she never +felt the pain. She went as one who has an urgent mission to perform, +though what that mission was she scarcely knew.</p> + +<p>The night—that night of dreadful tragedy—had changed her. Columbine, +the passionate, the impulsive had turned into a being that was foreign +to herself. All the happy girlhood had been stamped out of her as by the +cruel pressure of a hot iron. She had ceased to feel the agony of it; +somehow she did not think that she ever could feel pain again. The nerve +tissues had been destroyed and all vitality was gone. The creature that +passed like a swift shadow through the twilight of the dawn was an old +and withered woman who had lived beyond her allotted time.</p> + +<p>She reached the old Ship Inn, meeting no one. She entered by the door of +the conservatory through which she had flitted æons and æons before to +meet her lover. She went to her room and changed into her own clothes. +The suit that had belonged to Rufus so long ago she laid away with an +odd reverence, still scarcely knowing what she did, driven as it were by +a mechanism that worked without any volition of hers.</p> + +<p>Then she went to the glass and began to coil up her hair. It was dank +and heavy yet with the seawater, but she wound it about her head without +noticing. The light was growing, and she peered at herself with a +detached sort of curiosity, till something in her own eyes frightened +her, and she turned away.</p> + +<p>She went to the window and opened it wide. The sound of the sea yet +filled the world, but it was not so insistent as it had been. The waves, +though mountainous still, were gradually receding from the shore. It was +as though the dawn had come just in time to prevent the powers of +darkness from triumphing.</p> + +<p>She heard someone moving in the house and turned back into the room. +Aunt Liza must be told.</p> + +<p>Through the spectral dawnlight she went down the stairs and took her way +to the kitchen. The door stood half open; she heard the cheery crackling +of the newly lighted fire before she entered. And hearing it, she was +aware of a great coldness that clung like a chain, fettering her every +movement.</p> + +<p>Someone moved as she pushed open the door. An enormous shadow leaped +upon the wall like a fantastic monster of the deep. She recoiled for a +second, then, as if drawn against her will, she entered.</p> + +<p>By the ruddy glow of the fire she saw a man's broad-chested figure, she +saw the gleam of tawny hair above a thick bull-neck. He was bending +slightly over the fire at her entrance, but, hearing her, he turned. And +in that moment every numbed nerve in Columbine's body was pierced into +quivering life.</p> + +<p>She stood as one transfixed, and he stood motionless also in the +flickering light of the flames, gazing at her with eyes of awful blue +that were as burning spirit. But he spoke not a word—not a word. How +could a dead man speak?</p> + +<p>And as they stood thus, facing each other, the floor between them began +suddenly to heave, became a mass of seething billows that rocked her, +caught her, engulfed her. She went down into them, and as the tossing +darkness received her, her last thought was that Rufus had come back +indeed—not to say farewell, but to take her with him on the long +voyage from which there is no return....</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h3>CHAPTER XI</h3> + +<h3>DEEP WATERS</h3> + +<br /> +<p>Wild white roses that grew in the sandy stubble above the shore, little +orange-scented roses that straggled through the grass—they called to +something that ran in Columbine's blood, they spoke to her of the South. +She was sure that she would find those roses all about her feet when she +came to the end of the long voyage. She would see their golden hearts +wide open to the sun. For their fragrance haunted her day by day as she +floated down the long glassy stretches and rocked on the waveless +swells.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she had a curious fancy that she was lying dead, and they had +strewn the sweet flowers all about her. She hoped that they might not be +buried with her; they were too beautiful for that.</p> + +<p>At other times she thought of them as a bridal wreath, purer than the +purest orange-blossom that ever decked a bride. Once, too—this was when +she was nearing the end of the voyage—there came to her a magic whiff +of wet bog-myrtle that made her fancy that she must be a bride indeed.</p> + +<p>At last, just when it seemed to her that her boat was gently grounding +upon the sand where the little white roses grew, she opened her eyes +widely, wonderingly, and realised that the voyage was over.</p> + +<p>She was lying in her own little room at The Ship, and Mrs. Peck, with +motherly kindness writ large on her comely, plump face, was bending over +her with a cup of steaming broth in her hand.</p> + +<p>Columbine gazed at her with a bewildered sense of having slept too long.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck nodded at her cheerily. "There, my dear! You're better, I can +see. A fine time you've given us. I thought as I should never see your +bright eyes again."</p> + +<p>Columbine put forth a trembling hand with a curious feeling that it did +not belong to her at all. "Have I been ill?" she said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck nodded again cheerily. "Why, it's more than a week you've been +lying here, and how I have worrited about you! Prostration following +severe shock was what the doctor called it, but it looked to me more +like a touch of brain fever. But there, you're better! Drink this like a +good girl, and you'll feel better still!"</p> + +<p>Meekly, with the docility of great weakness, Columbine swallowed the +proffered nourishment. She wanted to recall all that had happened, but +her brain felt too clogged to serve her. She could only lie and gaze and +gaze at a little vase of wild white roses that faced her upon the +mantelpiece. Somehow those roses seemed to her to play an oddly +important part in her awakening.</p> + +<p>"Where did they come from?" she suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck glanced up indifferently. "They're just those little common +things that grow with the pinks on the cliff," she said.</p> + +<p>But that did not satisfy Columbine. "Who brought them in?" she said. +"Who gathered them?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck hesitated momentarily, almost as if she did not want to +answer. Then, half defiantly, "Why, Rufus, to be sure," she said.</p> + +<p>"Rufus!" A great hot wave of crimson suddenly suffused Columbine's +face—a pitiless, burning blush that spread tingling over her whole +body.</p> + +<p>She lay very still while it lasted, and Mrs. Peck set down the cup and, +rising energetically, began to tidy the room.</p> + +<p>At length, faintly, the girl spoke again: "Aunt Liza!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck turned. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look half +stern and yet half compassionate. "There, my dear, that'll do," she +said. "I think you've talked enough. The doctor said as I was to keep +you very quiet, especially when you began to get back your senses. Shut +your eyes, do, and go to sleep!"</p> + +<p>But Columbine's eyes remained open. "I'm not sleepy," she said. "And I +must speak to you. I want to know—I must know"—she faltered painfully, +but forced herself to continue—"Rufus—did he—did he really come +back—that night?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck's compassion perceptibly diminished and her severity +increased. "Oh, if you want the whole story," she said, "you'd better +have it and have done; that is, so far as I know it myself. There are +certain ins and outs that I don't know even yet, for Rufus can be very +secretive if he likes. Well then, yes, he did come back, and he brought +Mr. Knight with him. They were washed up by a great wave that dropped +'em high and dry near the quay. Mr. Knight was half drowned, and Rufus +left him at Sam Jefferson's cottage and came on here for brandy and hot +milk and such. He wasn't a penny the worse himself, but I suppose you +thought it was his ghost. You behaved like as if you did, anyway. That's +all I can tell you. Mr. Knight he got better in a day or two, and he's +gone, said he'd had enough of it, and I don't blame him neither. Now +that'll do for the present. By and by, when you're stronger, maybe I'll +ask you to tell me something. But the doctor says as I'm not to let you +talk at present."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck took up the empty cup with the words, and turned with decision +to the door.</p> + +<p>Columbine did not attempt to detain her. She had read the doubt in the +good woman's eyes, and she was thankful at that moment for the reprieve +that the doctor's fiat had secured her.</p> + +<p>She lay for a long, long time without moving after Mrs. Peck's +departure. Her brain felt unutterably weary, but it was clear, and she +was able to face the situation in all its grimness. Mr. Knight had +gone. Mr. Knight had had enough of it. Had he really left without a +word? Was she, then, so little to him as that? She, who had clung to +him, had offered him unconditionally and without stint all that was +hers!</p> + +<p>She remembered how he had said that it would not last, that love was +moonshine, love would pass. And how passionately—and withal how +fruitlessly!—had she revolted against that pronouncement of his! She +had declared that such was not love, and he—he had warned her against +loving too well, giving too freely. With cruel distinctness it all came +back to her. She felt again those hot kisses upon brow and lips and +throat. Though he had warned her against giving, he had not been slow to +take. He had revelled in the abandonment of that first free love of +hers. He had drained her of all that she held most precious that he +might drink his fill. And all for what? Again she burned from head to +foot, and, groaning, hid her face. All for the making of a picture that +should bring him world-wide fame! His love for her had been naught but +small change flung liberally enough that he might purchase therewith the +desire of his artist's soul. It had been just a means to an end. No more +than that! No more than that!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Time passed, but she knew naught of its passing. She was in a place of +bitterness very far removed from the ordinary things of life. She shed +no tears. The misery and shame that burned her soul were beyond all +expression or alleviation. She could have laughed over the irony of it +all more easily than she could have wept.</p> + +<p>That she—the proud and dainty, for whom no one had been good +enough—should have fallen thus easily to the careless attraction of a +man to whom she was nothing, nothing but a piece of prettiness to be +bought as cheaply as possible and treasured not at all. Some whim of +inspiration had moved him. He had obeyed his Muse. And he had been +ready—he had been ready—even to offer her life in sacrifice to his +idol. She did not count with him in the smallest degree. He had never +cared—he had never cared!</p> + +<p>She lifted her face at last. The torture was eating into her soul. It +was more than she could bear. All the tender words he had spoken, the +caresses he had lavished upon her, were as burning darts that pierced +her whichever way she turned. Her surrender had been so free, so +absolute, and in return he had left her in the dark. He had gone his +careless way without a single thought for all the fierce devotion she +had poured out to him. It had only appealed to him while the mood +lasted. And now he had had enough of it. He had gone.</p> + +<p>The murmur of the summer sea came to her as she lay, and she thought of +the Death Current. Why—ah, why—had it been cheated of its prey? She +shivered violently as the memory of that awful struggle in deep waters +came to her. She had been saved, how she scarcely realised, though deep +within her she knew—she knew!</p> + +<p>Her burning eyes fell upon the little wild white roses on the shelf. Why +had he brought them to her? Why had he chosen them? She felt as if they +held a message for her, but it was a message she did not dare to read. +And then again she quivered as the dread memory of that night swept over +her anew, and the eyes of flaming blue that had looked into hers.</p> + +<p>Somewhere—somewhere outside herself, it seemed to her—a voice was +speaking, very articulate and persistent, and she could not shut out the +words it uttered. She lacked the strength.</p> + +<p>"I always knew," it said, and it averred it over and over again, "as he +loved you like mad."</p> + +<p>Love! Love! But what was Love? Was any man capable of it? Was it ever +anything more than brutal passion or callous amusement? And hearts were +broken and lives were ruined to bring men sport.</p> + +<p>She clenched her hands, still gazing at the wild white roses with their +orange scent of purity. Why had he sent them? What had moved him to +gather them? He who had bargained with her, had wrung from her +submission to his will as it were at the sword's point! He who had +forced her to promise herself to him! What was love—or the making of +love—to such as he?</p> + +<p>The sweetness of the flowers seemed to pierce her. Ah, if they had only +been Knight's gift, how different—how different—had been all things.</p> + +<p>But they had come from Rufus. And so somehow their message passed her +by. The blackness of utter misery, utter hopelessness, closed in like a +prison-cell around her soul.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h3>CHAPTER XII</h3> + +<h3>THE SAFE HAVEN</h3> + +<br /> +<p>In the days that followed, Mrs. Peck's honest soul was both vexed and +anxious concerning her charge. She found Columbine extraordinarily +reticent. As she herself put it, it was impossible to get any sense out +of her.</p> + +<p>In compliance with the doctor's order and by the exercise of extreme +self-restraint, she refrained from questioning her upon the matter of +her behaviour on the night of the great tide. That Columbine would have +enlightened her had she done so was exceedingly doubtful. But there was +no doubt that something very unusual had taken place. The little white +roses that Rufus presented as a daily offering would have told her that, +apart from any other indications. She would have questioned Rufus, but +something held her back; and Adam, when urged thereto, flatly refused to +interfere.</p> + +<p>Adam, rejuvenated and jubilant, went whistling about his work as of +yore. His boy had come back to him in the flesh, and he was more than +satisfied to leave things as they were.</p> + +<p>"Leave 'em alone, Missus!" was his counsel "Rufus he knows what he's +about. He'll steer a straight course, and he'll bring her into harbour +sooner or later. You leave it to him, and be thankful that curly-topped +chap has sheered off at last!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck had no choice but to obey, but her anxiety regarding Columbine +did not diminish. The girl was so listless, so unlike herself, so +miserable. It was many days before she summoned the energy to dress, and +even then she displayed an almost painful reluctance to go downstairs. +She seemed to live in continual dread of some approaching ordeal.</p> + +<p>"I believe it's Rufus she's afraid of," was Mrs. Peck's verdict.</p> + +<p>But Adam scouted the idea as absurd. "What will you think of next, +woman? Why, any one can see as he's quiet and well-behaved enough for +any lass. She's missing the curly-topped chap a bit maybe. But she'll +get over that. Give her time! Give her time!"</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Peck gave her time and urged her not at all. She was not very +friendly with Columbine in those days. She disapproved of her, and her +manner said as much. She kept all suspicions to herself, but she could +not behave as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>"There's wild blood in her," she said darkly. "I mistrust her."</p> + +<p>And Columbine was fully aware of the fact, but she was too wretched to +resent it. In any case, she would never have turned to Mrs. Peck for +comfort.</p> + +<p>She came downstairs at last one summer evening when Mrs. Peck was busy +in the kitchen and no one was about. She had made no mention of her +intention; perhaps she wanted to be unhampered by observation. It had +been a soft, showery day, and there was the promise of more rain in the +sky.</p> + +<p>She moved wearily, but not without purpose; and soon she was walking +with a hood drawn over her head in the direction of the cliff-edge where +grew the sweet bog-myrtle and the little roses.</p> + +<p>She met no one by the way. It was nearing the hour for the evening meal, +nearing the hour when Mrs. Peck usually entered her room with the daily +offering of flowers that filled it with orange fragrance. Mrs. Peck was +not very fond of that particular task, though she never expressed her +reluctance. Well, she would not have it to accomplish tonight.</p> + +<p>A bare-legged, blue-jerseyed figure was moving in a bent attitude along +the slope that overlooked Rufus's cottage and the Spear Point. The girl +stood a moment gazing out over the curving reef as if she had not seen +it. The pool was smooth as a mirror, and reflecting the drifting clouds. +The tide was out. But, stay! It must be on the turn, for as she stood, +there came the deep, tolling note of the bell-buoy. It sounded like a +knell.</p> + +<p>As it struck solemnly over the water, the man straightened himself, and +in a moment he saw her.</p> + +<p>He did not move to meet her, merely stood motionless, nearly knee-deep +in the bog-myrtle, and waited for her, the white roses in one great, +clenched hand. And she, as if compelled, moved towards him, till at last +she reached and stood before him, white, mute, passive as a prisoner in +iron fetters.</p> + +<p>It was the man who spoke, with an odd jerkiness of tone and demeanour +that might have indicated embarrassment or even possibly some deeper +emotion. "So you've come along at last!" he said.</p> + +<p>She nodded. For an instant her dark eyes were raised, but they flashed +downwards again immediately, almost before they had met his own.</p> + +<p>Abruptly he thrust out to her the flowers he held. "I was getting these +for you."</p> + +<p>She took them in a trembling hand. She bent her face over them to hide +the piteous quivering of her lips. "Why—do you get them?" she whispered +almost inarticulately.</p> + +<p>He did not answer for a moment. Then: "Come down to my place!" he said. +"It's but a step."</p> + +<p>She made a swift gesture that had in it something of recoil, but the +next moment, without a word, she began to walk down the slope.</p> + +<p>He trod through the growth beside her, barefooted, unfaltering. His blue +eyes looked straight before him; they were unwavering and resolute as +the man himself.</p> + +<p>They reached the cottage. He made her enter it before him, and he +followed, but he did not close the door. Instead, he stopped and +deliberately hooked it back.</p> + +<p>Then, with the low call of the sea filling the humble little room, he +turned round to the girl, who stood with her head bent, awaiting his +pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Columbine," he said, and the name came with an unaccustomed softness +from his lips, "I've something to say to you. You've been hiding +yourself from me. I know. I know. And you needn't. Them flowers—I +gathered 'em and I sent 'em up to you every day, because I wanted you to +understand as you've nothing to fear from me. I wanted you to know as +everything is all right, and I mean well by you. I didn't know how to +tell you, and then I saw the roses growing outside the door, and I +thought as maybe they'd do it for me. They made me think of you somehow. +They were so white—and pure."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" The word was a wrung sound, half cry, half sob. His roses fell +suddenly and scattered upon the floor between them. Columbine's hands +covered her face.</p> + +<p>She stood for a second or two in tense silence, then under her breath +she spoke. "You don't believe—that—of me!"</p> + +<p>"I do, then," asserted Rufus, in his deep voice a note that was almost +aggressive.</p> + +<p>She lifted her face suddenly, even fiercely, showing him the shamed +blush that burned there. "You didn't believe it—that night!" she said.</p> + +<p>His eyes met hers with a certain stubbornness. "All right. I didn't," he +said.</p> + +<p>Her look became a challenge. "Then why—how—have you come to change +your mind?"</p> + +<p>He faced her steadily. "Maybe I know you better than I knew you then," +he said slowly.</p> + +<p>She made a sharp gesture as if pierced by an intolerable pain. "And +that—that has made a difference to your—your intentions!"</p> + +<p>He moved also at that. His red brows came together. "You're quite +wrong," he said, his voice very low. "That night—I know—I was beyond +myself, I was mad. But since then I've some to my senses. And—I love +you too much to harm you. That's the truth. I'd love you +anyway—whatever you were. It's just my nature to."</p> + +<p>His hands clenched with the words; he spoke with strong effort; but his +eyes looked deeply into hers, and they held no passion. They were still +and quiet as the summer sea below them.</p> + +<p>Columbine stood facing him as if at bay, but she must have felt the +influence of his restraint, for she showed no fear. "There's no such +thing as love," she said bitterly. "You dress it up and call it that. +But all the time it's something quite different. And I tell you +this"—recklessly she flung the words—"that if it hadn't been for that +tidal wave I'd be just what you took me for that night, what Aunt Liza +thinks I am this minute. I wasn't keeping back—anything, and"—she +uttered a sudden wild laugh—"if I've kept my virtue, I've lost my +innocence. I know—I know now—just what the thing you call love is +worth! And nothing will ever make me forget it!"</p> + +<p>She stopped, quivering from head to foot, passionate protest in every +line.</p> + +<p>But the blue eyes that watched her never wavered. The man's face was +rock-like in its steadfast calm. He did not speak for a full minute +after the utterance of her wild words. Then very steadily, very +forcibly, he answered her. "I'll tell you, shall I, what the thing I +call love is like?" He turned with a sweep of the arm and pointed out to +the harbour beyond the quay. "It's just like that. It's a wall to keep +off the storms. It's a safe haven where nothing hurtful can reach you. +You're not bound to give yourself to it, but once given you're safe."</p> + +<p>"Not bound!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "Not bound—when you made me +promise—"</p> + +<p>He dropped his arm to his side. "I set you free from that promise," he +said.</p> + +<p>Those few words, sombrely spoken, checked her wild outburst as surely as +a hand upon her mouth. She stood gazing at him for a space in utter +amazement, but gradually under his unchanging regard her look began to +fail. She turned at length with a little gasp, and sat down on the old +horsehair sofa, huddling herself together as if she desired to withdraw +herself from his observation.</p> + +<p>He did not stir, and a long, long silence fell between them, broken +only by the ticking of the grandfather-clock in the corner and the +everlasting murmur of the sea.</p> + +<p>The deep, warning note of the bell-buoy floated presently through the +summer silence, and as if in answer to a voice Rufus moved at last and +spoke. "You'd better go, lass. They'll be wondering about you. But don't +be afraid of me after this! I swear—before God—I'll give you no +cause!"</p> + +<p>She started a little at the sound of his voice, but she made no movement +to go. Her face was hidden in her hands. She rocked herself to and fro, +to and fro, as if in pain.</p> + +<p>He stood looking down at her with troubled eyes, but after a while, as +she did not speak, he moved to her side and stood there. At last, slowly +and massively, he stooped and touched her.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!"</p> + +<p>She made no direct response, only suddenly, as if his action had +released in her such a flood of emotion as was utterly beyond her +control, she broke into violent weeping, her head bowed low upon her +knees.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" he said.</p> + +<p>And then—how it came about neither of them ever knew—he was on his +knees beside her, holding her close in his great arms, and she was +sobbing out her agony upon his breast.</p> + +<p>It lasted for many minutes that storm of weeping. All the torment of +humiliation and grief, which till then had found no relief, was poured +out in that burning torrent of tears. She clung to him convulsively as +though she even yet struggled in the deep waters, and he held her +through it all with that sustaining strength that had borne her up +safely against the Death Current on that night of dreadful storm.</p> + +<p>Possibly the firm upholding of his arms brought back the memory of that +former terrible struggle, for it was of that that she first spoke when +speech became possible.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why didn't you leave me to die? Why—why—why?"</p> + +<p>He answered her in a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of the +broad chest that supported her.</p> + +<p>"I wanted you."</p> + +<p>She buried her face deeper that he might not see the cruel burning of +it. "So did he—then."</p> + +<p>"Not he!" The deep voice held unutterable contempt. "He wanted to make +his fortune out of you, that's all. He didn't care whether you lived or +died, the damn' cur!"</p> + +<p>She shrank at the fierce words, and was instantly aware of the jealous +closing of his arms about her.</p> + +<p>"You aren't going to break your heart for a dirty swab like that," he +said, with more of insistence than interrogation in his voice. "Look you +here, Columbine! You're too honest to care for a beast like that. +Why—though I pulled him out of the quicksand and saved him from the +sea—I'd have wrung his neck if he'd stayed another day. I would that."</p> + +<p>She started at the fiery declaration, and raised her head. "Oh, it was +you who sent him away, then?"</p> + +<p>Her look held almost desperate entreaty for a moment, but he met it with +the utmost grimness and it quickly died.</p> + +<p>"I didn't then," he said, with rough simplicity. "He made up his mind +without any help from me. He knew he couldn't face you again. It's not a +mite of good trying to deceive yourself now you know the truth. He's +gone, and he won't come back. Columbine, don't tell me as you want him +to!"</p> + +<p>His expression for the moment was formidable. She caught an ominous +gleam in the stern eyes, but almost immediately they softened. He +uttered a sigh that ended in a groan. "Now I'm being a brute to you, +when there's nothing that I wouldn't do for your sake." His voice shook +a little. "You won't believe it, but it's true—it's true."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I believe it?" she said swiftly. She had begun to tremble +in his hold.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with an odd wistfulness. "Because I'm too big an +oaf—to make you understand," he said.</p> + +<p>"And that is why you have set me free?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>He bent his head, almost as if the sudden question embarrassed him. +"Yes, that," he said after a moment. "And because I care too much about +you to—marry you against your will."</p> + +<p>"And you call that love?" she said.</p> + +<p>He made a slight gesture of surprise. "It is love," he said simply.</p> + +<p>His arms were still around her, but she had only to move to be free. She +did not move, save that she quivered like a vibrating wire, quivered and +hid her face.</p> + +<p>"Rufus!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" His head was bent above hers, but he could only see her black +hair, so completely was her face averted from him.</p> + +<p>Her voice came, tensely whispering. "What if I were—willing to marry +you?"</p> + +<p>Something of her agitation had entered into him. A great quiver went +through him also. But—"You're not," he said quietly, with conviction.</p> + +<p>A trembling hand strayed upwards, feeling over his neck and throat, +groping for his face. "Rufus"—again came the tense whisper—"how do you +know that?"</p> + +<p>He took the wandering hand and pressed it softly against his cheek. +"Because you don't love me, Columbine," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" A low sob escaped her; she lifted her head suddenly; the tears +were running down her face. "But—but—you could teach me, Rufus. You +could teach me what love—true love—is. I want the real thing—the real +thing. Will you give it to me? I want it—more than anything else in +the world." She drew nearer to him with the words, like a frozen +creature seeking warmth, and in a moment her arms were slipping round +his neck. "You are so true—so strong!" she sobbed. "I want to forget—I +want to forget that I ever loved—any one but you."</p> + +<p>His arms were close about her again. He pressed her so hard against his +heart that she felt its strong beating against her own. His eyes gazed +straight into hers, and in them she saw again that deep, deep blue as of +flaming spirit.</p> + +<p>"You mean it?" he said.</p> + +<p>Breathlessly she answered him. "Yes, I mean it."</p> + +<p>"Then"—he bent his great head to her, and for the fraction of a moment +she saw the meteor-like flash of his smile—"yes, I'll teach you, +Columbine," he said.</p> + +<p>With the words he kissed her on the lips, kissed her closely, kissed her +lingeringly, and in that kiss her torn heart found its first balm of +healing.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well, what did I say?" crowed Adam a little later. "Didn't I tell you +if you left 'em alone he'd steer her safe into harbour? Wasn't I right, +missus? Wasn't I right?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not gainsaying it," said Mrs. Peck, with a touch of severity. "And +I'm sure I hope as all will turn out for the best."</p> + +<p>"Turn out for the best? Why, o' course it will!" said Adam, with cheery +confidence. "My son Rufus he may be slow, but he's no fool. And he's a +good man, too, missus, a long sight better than that curly-topped chap. +Him and me's partners, so I ought to know."</p> + +<p>"To be sure you ought," said Mrs. Peck tolerantly. "And it's to be hoped +that Columbine knows it as well."</p> + +<p>And in the solitude of her own room Columbine bent her dainty head and +kissed with reverence the little wild white roses that spoke to her of +the purity of a good man's love.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<a name='The_Magic_Circle'></a><h2>THE MAGIC CIRCLE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The persistent chirping of a sparrow made it almost harder to bear. Lady +Brooke finally rose abruptly from the table, her black brows drawn close +together, and swept to the window to scare the intruder away.</p> + +<p>"I really have not the smallest idea what your objections can be," she +observed, pausing with her back to the room.</p> + +<p>"A little exercise of your imagination might be of some assistance to +you," returned her husband dryly, not troubling to raise his eyes from +his paper.</p> + +<p>He was leaning back in a chair in an attitude of unstudied ease. It was +characteristic of Sir Roland Brooke to make himself physically +comfortable at least, whatever his mental atmosphere. He seldom raised +his voice, and never swore. Yet there was about him a certain amount of +force that made itself felt more by his silence than his speech.</p> + +<p>His young wife, though she shrugged her shoulders and looked +contemptuous, did not venture upon open defiance.</p> + +<p>"I am to decline the invitation, then?" she asked presently, without +turning.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" Sir Roland again made leisurely reply as he scanned the +page before him.</p> + +<p>"And give as an excuse that you are too staunch a Tory to approve of +such an innovation as the waltz?"</p> + +<p>"You may give any excuse that you consider suitable," he returned with +unruffled composure.</p> + +<p>"I know of none," she answered, with a quick vehemence that trembled on +the edge of rebellion.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland turned very slowly in his chair and regarded the delicate +outline of his wife's figure against the window-frame.</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear," he said very deliberately, "let me recommend you once +more to have recourse to your ever romantic imagination!"</p> + +<p>She quivered, and clenched her hands, as if goaded beyond endurance. +"You do not treat me fairly," she murmured under her breath.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland continued to look at her with the air of a naturalist +examining an interesting specimen of his cult. He said nothing till, +driven by his scrutiny, she turned and faced him.</p> + +<p>"What is your complaint?" he asked then.</p> + +<p>She hesitated for an instant. There was doubt—even a hint of +fear—upon her beautiful face. Then, with a certain recklessness, she +spoke:</p> + +<p>"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I never +dreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrifice +this."</p> + +<p>Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat and +passively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached and +waning interest.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage has +ceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you was +ever very strong."</p> + +<p>Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh.</p> + +<p>"It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It is +scarcely surprising that it did not flourish."</p> + +<p>Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from his +face. He looked supremely bored.</p> + +<p>Lady Brooke moved towards the door.</p> + +<p>"It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "A +labourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I."</p> + +<p>"Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "A +labourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten her +spirit, and she is considerably the better for it."</p> + +<p>His wife stood still, very erect and queenly.</p> + +<p>"Not only the better, but the happier," she said very bitterly. "Even a +dog would rather be beaten than kicked to one side."</p> + +<p>Sir Roland lowered his paper again with startling suddenness.</p> + +<p>"Is that your point of view?" he said. "Then I fear I have been +neglecting my duty most outrageously. However, it is an omission easily +remedied. Let me hear no more of this masquerade, Lady Brooke! You have +my orders, and if you transgress them you will be punished in a fashion +scarcely to your liking. Is that clearly understood?"</p> + +<p>He looked straight up at her with cold, smiling eyes that yet seemed to +convey a steely warning.</p> + +<p>She shivered very slightly as she encountered them. "You make a mockery +of everything," she said, her voice very low.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland uttered a quiet laugh.</p> + +<p>"I am nevertheless a man of my word, Naomi," he said. "If you wish to +test me, you have your opportunity."</p> + +<p>He immersed himself finally in his paper as he ended, and she, with a +smile of proud contempt, turned and passed from the room.</p> + +<p>She had married him out of pique, it was true, but life with him had +never seemed intolerable until he had shown her that he knew it.</p> + +<p>She took her invitation with her, and in her own room sat down to read +it once again. It was from a near neighbour, Lady Blythebury, an +acquaintance with whom she was more intimate than was Sir Roland. Lady +Blythebury was a very lively person indeed. She had been on the stage in +her young days, and she had decidedly advanced ideas on the subject of +social entertainment. As a hostess, she was notorious for her +originality and energy, and though some of the county families +disapproved of her, she always knew how to secure as many guests as she +desired. Lady Brooke had known her previous to her own marriage, and she +clung to this friendship, notwithstanding Sir Roland's very obvious lack +of sympathy.</p> + +<p>He knew Lord Blythebury in the hunting-field. Their properties adjoined, +and it was inevitable that certain courtesies should be exchanged. But +he refused so steadily to fall a captive to Lady Blythebury's bow and +spear, that he very speedily aroused her aversion. He soon realised that +her influence over his wife was very far from benevolent towards +himself, but, save that he persisted in declining all social invitations +to Blythebury, he made no attempt to counteract the evil. In fact, it +was not his custom to coerce her. He denied her very little, though with +regard to that little he was as adamant.</p> + +<p>But to Naomi his non-interference was many a time more galling than his +interdiction. It was but seldom that she attempted to oppose him, and, +save that Lady Blythebury's masquerade had been discussed between them +for weeks, she would not have greatly cared for his refusal to attend +it. When Sir Roland asserted himself, it was her habit to yield without +argument.</p> + +<p>But now, for the first time, she asked herself if he were not presuming +upon her wifely submission. He would think more of her if she resisted +him, whispered her hurt pride, recalling the courteous indifference +which it was his custom to mete out to her. But dared she do this +thing?</p> + +<p>She took up the invitation again and read it. It was to be a fancy-dress +ball, and all were to wear masks. The waltz which she had learned to +dance from Lady Blythebury herself and which was only just coming into +vogue in England, was to be one of the greatest features of the evening. +There would be no foolish formality, Lady Blythebury had assured her. +The masks would preclude that. Altogether the whole entertainment +promised to be of so entrancing a nature that she had permitted herself +to look forward to it with considerable pleasure. But she might have +guessed that Sir Roland would refuse to go, she reflected, as she sat in +her dainty room with the invitation before her. Did he ever attend any +function that was not so stiff and dull that she invariably pined to +depart from the moment of arrival?</p> + +<p>Again she read the invitation, recalling Lady Blythebury's gay words +when last they had talked the matter over.</p> + +<p>"If only Una could come without the lion for once!" she had said.</p> + +<p>And she herself had almost echoed the wish. Sir Roland always spoilt +everything.</p> + +<p>Well!—She took up her pen. She supposed she must refuse. A moment it +hovered above the paper. Then, very slowly, it descended and began to +write.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The chatter of many voices and the rhythm of dancing feet, the strains +of a string-band in the distance, and, piercing all, the clear, high +notes of a flute, filled the spring night with wonderful sound. Lady +Blythebury had turned her husband's house into a fairy palace of +delight. She stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her florid face +beaming above her Elizabethan ruffles, looking in upon the gay and +ever-shifting scene which she had called into being.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I had stepped into an Arabian Night," she laughed to one +of her guests, who stood beside her. He was dressed as a court jester, +and carried a wand which he flourished dramatically. He wore a +close-fitting black mask.</p> + +<p>"There is certainly magic abroad," he declared, in a rich, Irish brogue +that Lady Blythebury smiled to hear. For she also was Irish to the +backbone.</p> + +<p>"You know something of the art yourself, Captain Sullivan?" she asked.</p> + +<p>She knew the man for a friend of her husband's. He was more or less +disreputable, she believed, but he was none the less welcome on that +account. It was just such men as he who knew how to make things a +success. She relied upon the disreputable more than she would have +admitted.</p> + +<p>"Egad, I'm no novice in most things!" declared the court jester, waving +his wand bombastically. "But it's the magic of a pretty woman that I'm +after at the present moment. These masks, Lady Blythebury, are uncommon +inconvenient. It's yourself that knows better than to wear one. Sure, +beauty should never go veiled."</p> + +<p>Lady Blythebury laughed indulgently. Though she knew it for what it was, +the fellow's blarney was good to hear.</p> + +<p>"Ah, go and dance!" she said. "I've heard all that before. It never +means anything. Go and dance with the little lady over there in the pink +domino! I give you my word that she is pretty. Her name is Una, but she +is minus the lion on this occasion. I shall tell you no more than that."</p> + +<p>"Egad! It's more than enough!" said the court jester, as he bowed and +moved away.</p> + +<p>The lady indicated stood alone in the curtained embrasure of a +bay-window. She was watching the dancers with an absorbed air, and did +not notice his approach.</p> + +<p>He drew near, walking with a free swagger in time to the haunting +waltz-music. Reaching her, he stopped and executed a sweeping bow, his +hand upon his heart.</p> + +<p>"May I have the pleasure—"</p> + +<p>She looked up with a start. Her eyes shone through her mask with a +momentary irresolution as she bent in response to his bow.</p> + +<p>With scarcely a pause he offered her his arm.</p> + +<p>"You dance the waltz?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a second; then, with an affirmatory murmur, accepted +the proffered arm. The bold stare with which he met her look had in it +something of compulsion.</p> + +<p>He led her instantly away from her retreat, and in a moment his hand was +upon her waist. He guided her into the gay stream of dancers without a +word.</p> + +<p>They began to waltz—a dream—waltz in which she seemed to float without +effort, without conscious volition. Instinctively she responded to his +touch, keenly, vibrantly aware of the arm that supported her, of the +dark, free eyes that persistently sought her own.</p> + +<p>"Faith!" he suddenly said in his soft, Irish voice. "To find Una without +the lion is a piece of good fortune I had scarcely prayed for. And what +was the persuasion that you used at all to keep the monster in his den?"</p> + +<p>She glanced up, half-startled by his speech. What did this man know +about her?</p> + +<p>"If you mean my husband," she said at last, "I did not persuade him. He +never wished or intended to come."</p> + +<p>Her companion laughed as one well pleased.</p> + +<p>"Very generous of him!" he commented, in a tone that sent the blood to +her cheeks.</p> + +<p>He guided her dexterously among the dancers. The girl's breath came +quickly, unevenly, but her feet never faltered.</p> + +<p>"If I were the lion," said her partner daringly, "by the powers, I'd +play the part! I wouldn't be a tame beast, egad! If Una went out to a +fancy ball, my faith, I would go too!"</p> + +<p>Lady Brooke uttered a little, excited laugh. The words caught her +interest.</p> + +<p>"And suppose Una went without your leave?" she said.</p> + +<p>The Irishman looked at her with a humorous twist at one corner of his +mouth.</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking that I'd still go too," he said.</p> + +<p>"But if you didn't know?" She asked the question with a curious +vehemence. Her instinct told her that, however he might profess to +trifle, here at least was a man.</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't happen," he said, with conviction, "if I were the lion."</p> + +<p>The music was quickening to the <i>finale</i>, and she felt the strong arm +grow tense about her.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he said. "We will go into the garden."</p> + +<p>She went with him because it seemed that she must, but deep in her heart +there lurked a certain misgiving. There was an almost arrogant air of +power about this man. She wondered what Sir Roland would say if he knew, +and comforted herself almost immediately with the reflection that he +never could know. He had gone to Scotland, and she did not expect him +back for several weeks.</p> + +<p>So she turned aside with this stranger, and passed out upon his arm into +the dusk of the soft spring night.</p> + +<p>"You know these gardens well?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She came out of her meditations.</p> + +<p>"Not really well. Lady Blythebury and I are friends, but we do not visit +very often."</p> + +<p>"And that but secretly," he laughed, "when the lion is absent?" She did +not answer him, and he continued after a moment: "'Pon my life, the +very mention of him seems to cast a cloud. Let us draw a magic circle, +and exclude him!" He waved his wand. "You knew that I was a magician?"</p> + +<p>There was a hint of something more than banter in his voice. They had +reached the end of the terrace, and were slowly descending the steps. +But at his last words, Lady Brooke stood suddenly still.</p> + +<p>"I only believe in one sort of magic," she said, "and that is beyond the +reach of all but fools."</p> + +<p>Her voice quivered with an almost passionate disdain. She was suddenly +aware of an intense burning misery that seemed to gnaw into her very +soul. Why had she come out with this buffoon, she wondered? Why had she +come to the masquerade at all? She was utterly out of sympathy with its +festive gaiety. A great and overmastering desire for solitude descended +upon her. She turned almost angrily to go.</p> + +<p>But in the same instant the jester's hand caught her own.</p> + +<p>"Even so, lady," he said. "But the magic of fools has led to paradise +before now."</p> + +<p>She laughed out bitterly:</p> + +<p>"A fool's paradise!"</p> + +<p>"Is ever green," he said whimsically. "Faith, it's no place at all for +cynics. Shall we go hand in hand to find it then—in case you miss the +way?"</p> + +<p>She laughed again at the quaint adroitness of his speech. But her lips +were curiously unsteady, and she found the darkness very comforting. +There was no moon, and the sky was veiled. She suffered the strong clasp +of his fingers about her own without protest. What did it matter—for +just one night?</p> + +<p>"Where are we going?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Wait till we get there!" murmured her companion. "We are just within +the magic circle. Una has escaped from the lion."</p> + +<p>She felt turf beneath her feet, and once or twice the brushing of twigs +against her hand. She began to have a faint suspicion as to whither he +was leading her. But she would not ask a second time. She had yielded to +his guidance, and though her heart fluttered strangely she would not +seem to doubt. The dread of Sir Roland's displeasure had receded to the +back of her mind. Surely there was indeed magic abroad that night! It +seemed diffused in the very air she breathed. In silence they moved +along the dim grass path. From far away there came to them fitfully the +sound of music, remote and wonderful, like straying echoes of paradise. +A soft wind stirred above them, lingering secretly among opening leaves. +There was a scent of violets almost intoxicatingly sweet.</p> + +<p>The silence seemed magnetic. It held them like a spell. Through it, +vague and intangible as the night at first, but gradually taking +definite shape, strange thoughts began to rise in the girl's heart.</p> + +<p>She had consented to this adventure from sheer lack of purpose. But +whither was it leading her? She was a married woman, with her shackles +heavy upon her. Yet she walked that night with a stranger, as one who +owned her freedom. The silence between them was intimate and wonderful, +the silence which only kindred spirits can ever know. It possessed her +magically, making her past life seem dim and shadowy, and the present +only real.</p> + +<p>And yet she knew that she was not free. She trespassed on forbidden +ground. She tasted the forbidden fruit, and found it tragically sweet.</p> + +<p>Suddenly and softly he spoke:</p> + +<p>"Does the magic begin to work?"</p> + +<p>She started and tried to stop. Surely it were wiser to go back while she +had the will! But he drew her forward still. The mist overhead was +faintly silver. The moon was rising.</p> + +<p>"We will go to the heart of the tangle," he said. "There is nothing to +fear. The lion himself could not frighten you here."</p> + +<p>Again she yielded to him. There was a suspicion of raillery in his voice +that strangely reassured her. The grasp of his hand was very close.</p> + +<p>"We are in the maze," she said at last, breaking her silence. "Are you +sure of the way?"</p> + +<p>He answered her instantly with complete self-assurance.</p> + +<p>"Like the heart of a woman, it's hard, that it is, to find. But I think +I have the key. And if not, by the saints, I'm near enough now to break +through."</p> + +<p>The words thrilled her inexplicably. Truly the magic was swift and +potent. A few more steps, and she was aware of a widening of the hedge. +They were emerging into the centre of the maze.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said the jester, "I thought I should win through!"</p> + +<p>He led her forward into the shadow of a great tree. The mist was passing +very slowly from the sky. By the silvery light that filtered down from +the hidden moon Naomi made out the strong outline of his shoulders as he +stood before her, and the vague darkness of his mask.</p> + +<p>She put up her free hand and removed her own. The breeze had died down. +The atmosphere was hushed and airless.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the way back?" she asked him, in a voice that sounded +unnatural even to herself.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to go back, then?" he queried keenly.</p> + +<p>There was something in his tone—a subtle something that she had not +detected before. She began to tremble. For the first time, actual fear +took hold of her.</p> + +<p>"You must know the way back!" she exclaimed. "This is folly! They will +be wondering where we are."</p> + +<p>"Faith, Lady Una! It is the fool's paradise," he told her coolly. "They +will not wonder. They know too well that there is no way back."</p> + +<p>His manner terrified her. Its very quietness seemed a menace. +Desperately she tore herself from his hold, and turned to escape. But it +was as though she fled in a nightmare. Whichever way she turned she met +only the impenetrable ramparts of the hedge that surrounded her. She +could find neither entrance nor exit. It was as though the way by which +she had come had been closed behind her.</p> + +<p>But the brightness above was growing. She whispered to herself that she +would soon be able to see, that she could not be a prisoner for long.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she heard her captor close to her, and, turning in terror, she +found him erect and dominating against the hedge. With a tremendous +effort she controlled her rising panic to plead with him.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I must go back!" she said, her voice unsteady, but very urgent. +"I have already stayed too long. You cannot wish to keep me here against +my will?"</p> + +<p>She saw him shrug his shoulders slightly.</p> + +<p>"There is no way back," he said, "or, if there is, I do not know it."</p> + +<p>There was no dismay in his voice, but neither was there exultation. He +simply stated the fact with absolute composure. Her heart gave a wild +throb of misgiving. Was the man wholly sane?</p> + +<p>Again she caught wildly at her failing courage, and drew herself up to +her full height. Perhaps she might awe him, even yet.</p> + +<p>"Sir," she said, "I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. And I—"</p> + +<p>"Egad!" he broke in banteringly, "that was yesterday. You are free +to-day. I have brought you out of bondage. We have found paradise +together, and, my pretty Lady Una, there is no way back."</p> + +<p>"But there is, there is!" she cried desperately. "And I must find it! I +tell you I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. I belong to him. No one can keep +me from him!"</p> + +<p>It was as though she beat upon an iron door.</p> + +<p>"There is no way out of the magic circle," said the jester inexorably.</p> + +<p>A white shaft of light illumined the mist above them, revealing the +girl's pale face, making sinister the man's masked one. He seemed to be +smiling. He bent towards her.</p> + +<p>"You seem amazingly fond of your chains," he said softly. "And yet, from +what I have heard, Sir Roland is no gentle tyrant. How is it, pretty +one? What makes you cling to your bondage so?"</p> + +<p>"He is my husband!" she said, through white lips.</p> + +<p>"Faith, that is no answer," he declared. "Own, now, that you hate him, +that you loathe his presence and shudder at his touch! I told you I was +a magician, Lady Una; but you wouldn't believe me at all."</p> + +<p>She confronted him with a sudden fury that marvellously reinforced her +failing courage.</p> + +<p>"You lie, sir!" she cried, stamping passionately upon the soft earth. "I +do none of these things. I have never hated him. I have never shrunk +from his touch. We have not understood each other, perhaps, but that is +a different matter, and no concern of yours."</p> + +<p>"He has not made you happy," said the jester persistently. "You will +never go back to him now that you are free!"</p> + +<p>"I will go back to him!" she cried stormily. "How dare you say such a +thing to me? How dare you?"</p> + +<p>He came nearer to her.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he said. "It is deliverance that I am offering you. I ask +nothing at all in return, simply to make you happy, and to teach you the +blessed magic which now you scorn. Faith! It's the greatest game in the +world, Lady Una; and it only takes two players, dear, only two players!"</p> + +<p>There was a subtle, caressing quality in his voice. His masked face was +bending close to hers. She felt trapped and helpless, but she forced +herself to stand her ground.</p> + +<p>"You insult me!" she said, her voice quivering, but striving to be calm.</p> + +<p>"Never a bit!" he declared. "Since I am the truest friend you have!"</p> + +<p>She drew away from him with a gesture of repulsion.</p> + +<p>"You insult me!" she said again. "I have my husband, and I need no +other."</p> + +<p>He laughed sneeringly, the insinuating banter all gone from his manner.</p> + +<p>"You know he is nothing to you," he said. "He neglects you. He bullies +you. You married him because you wanted to be a married woman. Be +honest, now! You never loved him. You do not know what love is!"</p> + +<p>"It is false!" she cried. "I will not listen to you. Let me go!"</p> + +<p>He took a sudden step forward.</p> + +<p>"You refuse deliverance?" he questioned harshly.</p> + +<p>She did not retreat this time, but faced him proudly.</p> + +<p>"I do!"</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he said again, and his voice was stern. "Sir Roland Brooke has +returned home. He knows that you have disobeyed him. He knows that you +are here with me. You will not dare to face him. You have gone too far +to return."</p> + +<p>She gasped hysterically, and tottered for an instant, but recovered +herself.</p> + +<p>"I will—I will go back!" she said.</p> + +<p>"He will beat you like a labourer's wife," warned the jester. "He may do +worse."</p> + +<p>She was swaying as she stood.</p> + +<p>"He will do—as he sees fit," she said.</p> + +<p>He stooped a little lower.</p> + +<p>"I would make you happy, Lady Una," he whispered. "I would protect +you—shelter you—love you!"</p> + +<p>She flung out her hands with a wild and desperate gesture. The +magnetism of his presence had become horrible to her.</p> + +<p>"I am going to him—now," she said.</p> + +<p>Behind him she saw, in the brightening moonlight, the opening which she +had vainly sought a few minutes before. She sprang for it, darting past +him like a frightened bird seeking refuge, and in another moment she was +lost in the green labyrinths.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The moonlight had become clear and strong, casting black shadows all +about her. Twice, in her frantic efforts to escape, she ran back into +the centre of the maze. The jester had gone, but she imagined him +lurking behind every corner, and she impotently recalled his words: +"There is no way out of the magic circle."</p> + +<p>At last, panting and exhausted, she knew that she was unwinding the +puzzle. Often as its intricacies baffled her, she kept her head, +rectifying each mistake and pressing on, till the wider curve told her +that she was very near the entrance. She came upon it finally quite +suddenly, and found herself, to her astonishment, close to the terrace +steps.</p> + +<p>She mounted them with trembling limbs, and paused a moment to summon her +composure. Then, outwardly calm, she traversed the terrace and entered +the house.</p> + +<p>Lady Blythebury was dancing, and she felt she could not wait. She +scribbled a few hasty words of farewell, and gave them to a servant as +she entered her carriage. Hers was the first departure, and no one +noted it.</p> + +<p>She sank back at length, thankfully, in the darkness, and closed her +eyes. Whatever lay before her, she had escaped from the nightmare horror +of the shadowy garden.</p> + +<p>But as the brief drive neared its end, her anxiety revived. Had Sir +Roland indeed returned and discovered her absence? Was it possible?</p> + +<p>Her face was white and haggard as she entered the hall at last. Her eyes +were hunted.</p> + +<p>The servant who opened to her looked at her oddly for a moment.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she said nervously.</p> + +<p>"Sir Roland has returned, my lady," he said. "He arrived two hours ago, +and went straight to his room, saying he would not disturb your +ladyship."</p> + +<p>She turned away in silence, and mounted the stairs. Did he know? Had he +guessed? Was it that that had brought him back?</p> + +<p>She entered her room, and dismissed the maid she found awaiting her.</p> + +<p>Swiftly she threw off the pink domino, and began to loosen her hair with +stiff, fumbling fingers, then shook it about her shoulders, and sank +quivering upon a couch. She could not go to bed. The terror that +possessed her was too intense, too overmastering.</p> + +<p>Ah! What was that? Every pulse in her body leaped and stood still at +sound of a low knock at the door. Who could it be? gasped her fainting +heart. Not Sir Roland, surely! He never came to her room now.</p> + +<p>Softly the door opened. It was Sir Roland and none other—Sir Roland +wearing an old velvet smoking—jacket, composed as ever, his grey eyes +very level and inscrutable.</p> + +<p>He paused for a single instant upon the threshold, then came noiselessly +in and closed the door.</p> + +<p>Naomi sat motionless and speechless. She lacked the strength to rise. +Her hands were pressed upon her heart. She thought its beating would +suffocate her.</p> + +<p>He came quietly across the room to her, not seeming to notice her +agitation.</p> + +<p>"I should not have disturbed you at this hour if I had not been sure +that you were awake," he said.</p> + +<p>Reaching her, he bent and touched her white cheek.</p> + +<p>"Why, child, how cold you are!" he said.</p> + +<p>She started violently back, and then, as a sudden memory assailed her, +she caught his hand and held it for an instant.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," she said with an effort. "You—you startled me."</p> + +<p>"You are nervous tonight," said Sir Roland.</p> + +<p>She shrank under his look.</p> + +<p>"You see, I did not expect you," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Evidently not." Sir Roland stood gravely considering her. "I came +back," he said, after a moment, "because it occurred to me that you +might be lonely after all, in spite of your assurance to the contrary. +I did not ask you to accompany me, Naomi. I did not think you would care +to do so. But I regretted it later, and I have come back to remedy the +omission. Will you come with me to Scotland?"</p> + +<p>His tone was quiet and somewhat formal, but there was in it a kindliness +that sent the blood pulsing through her veins in a wave of relief even +greater than her astonishment at his words. He did not know, then. That +was her one all-possessing thought. He could not know, or he had not +spoken to her thus.</p> + +<p>She sat slowly forward, drawing her hair about her shoulders like a +cloak. She felt for the moment an overpowering weakness, and she could +not look up.</p> + +<p>"I will come, of course," she said at last, her voice very low, "if you +wish it."</p> + +<p>Sir Roland did not respond at once. Then, as his silence was beginning +to disquiet her again, he laid a steady hand upon the shadowing hair.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he said gently, "have you no wishes upon the subject?"</p> + +<p>Again she started at his touch, and again, as if to rectify the start, +drew ever so slightly nearer to him. It was many, many days since she +had heard that tone from him.</p> + +<p>"My wishes are yours," she told him faintly.</p> + +<p>His hand was caressing her softly, very softly. Again he was silent for +a while, and into her heart there began to creep a new feeling that +made her gradually forget the immensity of her relief. She sat +motionless, save that her head drooped a little lower, ever a little +lower.</p> + +<p>"Naomi," he said, at last, "I have been thinking a good deal lately. We +seem to have been wandering round and round in a circle. I have been +wondering if we could not by any means find a way out?"</p> + +<p>She made a sharp, involuntary movement. What was this that he was saying +to her?</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand," she murmured.</p> + +<p>His hand pressed a little upon her, and she knew that he was bending +down.</p> + +<p>"You are not happy," he said, with grave conviction.</p> + +<p>She could not contradict him.</p> + +<p>"It is my own fault," she managed to say, without lifting her head.</p> + +<p>"I do not think so," he returned, "at least, not entirely. I know that +there have frequently been times when you have regretted your marriage. +For that you were not to blame." He paused an instant. "Naomi," he said, +a new note in his voice, "I think I am right in believing that, +notwithstanding this regret, you do not in your heart wish to leave me?"</p> + +<p>She quivered, and hid her face in silence.</p> + +<p>He waited a few seconds, and finally went on as if she had answered in +the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"That being so, I have a foundation on which to build. I would not ask +of you anything which you feel unable to grant. But there is only one +way for us to get out of the circle that I can see. Will you take it +with me, Naomi? Shall we go away together, and leave this miserable +estrangement behind us?"</p> + +<p>His voice was low and tender. Yet she felt instinctively that he had not +found it easy to expose his most sacred reserve thus. She moved +convulsively, trying to answer him, trying for several unworthy moments +to accept in silence the shelter his generosity had offered her. But her +efforts failed, for she had not been moulded for deception; and this new +weapon of his had cut her to the heart. Heavy, shaking sobs overcame +her.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" he said. "Hush! I never dreamed you felt it so."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you don't know me!" she whispered. "I—I am not what you think me. +I have disobeyed you, deceived you, cheated you!" Humbled to the earth, +she made piteous, halting confession before her tyrant. "I was at the +masquerade tonight. I waltzed—and afterwards went into the maze—in the +dark—with a stranger—who made love to me. I never—meant you—to +know."</p> + +<p>Silence succeeded her words, and, as she waited for him to rise and +spurn her, she wondered how she had ever brought herself to utter them. +But she would not have recalled them even then. He moved at last, but +not as she had anticipated. He gathered the tumbled hair back from her +face, and, bending over her, he spoke. Even in her agony of +apprehension she noted the curious huskiness of his voice.</p> + +<p>"And yet you told me," he said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>She could not answer him, nor could she raise her face. He was not +angry, she knew now; but yet she felt that she could not meet his eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a short silence, then he spoke again, close to her ear:</p> + +<p>"You need not have told me, Naomi."</p> + +<p>The words amazed her. With a great start of bewilderment she lifted her +head and looked at him. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She thought +she saw a smile hovering about his lips, but it was of a species she had +never seen there before.</p> + +<p>"Because," he explained gently, "I knew."</p> + +<p>She stared at him in wonder, scarcely breathing, the tears all gone from +her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You—knew!" she said slowly, at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I knew," he said. He looked deep into her eyes for seconds, and +then she felt him drawing her irresistibly to him. She yielded herself +as driftwood yields to a racing flood, no longer caring for the +interpretation of the riddle, scarcely remembering its existence; heard +him laugh above her head—a brief, exultant laugh—as he clasped her. +And then came his lips upon her own....</p> + +<p>"You see, dear," he said later, a quiver that was not all laughter in +his voice, "it is not so remarkably wonderful, after all, that I should +know all about it, when you come to consider that I was there—there +with you in the magic circle all the time."</p> + +<p>"You were there!" she echoed, turning in his arms. "But how was it I +never knew? Why did I not see you?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, sweetheart, I think you did!" said Sir Roland. Then, at her +quick cry of amazed understanding: "I wanted to teach you a lesson, but, +sure, I'm thinking it's myself that learned one, after all." And, as she +clung to him, still hardly believing: "We have found our paradise +together, my Lady Una," he whispered softly. "And, love, there is no way +back."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Looker_On'></a><h2>THE LOOKER-ON</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='5%' summary="TOC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right:auto;"><tr> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_I'>I</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_II'>II</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_III'>III</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_IV'>IV</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_V'>V</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_VI'>VI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_VII'>VII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_VIII'>VIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_IX'>IX</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_X'>X</a></td> +</tr></table> + +<a name='Looker_On_I'></a><h3>I</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, I'm going to be Lady Jane Grey," said Charlie Cleveland, balancing +himself on the deck-rail in front of his friends, Mrs. Langdale and +Mollie Erle, with considerable agility. "And, Mollie, I say, will you +lend me a black silk skirt? I saw you were wearing one last night."</p> + +<p>He spoke with complete seriousness. It was this boy's way to infuse into +all his actions an enthusiasm that deprived the most trifling of the +commonplace element. He was the gayest passenger on board—the very life +of the boat. Yet he had few accomplishments to recommend him, his +abundant spirits alone attaining for him the popularity he everywhere +enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Molly Erle, who with Mrs. Langdale was returning home after spending the +winter with some friends at Calcutta, regarded him with a toleration not +wholly devoid of contempt. He apparently deemed it necessary to pay her +a good deal of attention, and Molly was strongly determined to keep him +at a distance—a matter, by the way, that had its difficulties in face +of young Cleveland's romping lack of ceremony.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you may have the skirt," she said with a generosity not wholly +spontaneous, as he waited expectantly for a reply to his request.</p> + +<p>"Ah, good!" he said effusively. "That is a great weight off my mind. And +may I have Number Ten on your programme?"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to dance?" asked Mrs. Langdale, with a half-suppressed +laugh.</p> + +<p>He turned upon her, grinning openly.</p> + +<p>"No. Fisher says I mustn't. I'm going to sit out, dear Mrs. Langdale—a +modest wall-flower for once. I hope you will all be very kind to me. +Have you made a note of Number Ten, Molly—I mean, Miss Erle? No? But +you will, though. Ah! Thanks, awfully! Here comes Fisher! I wish you +would persuade him to do Guildford Dudley. I can't."</p> + +<p>He bounced off the rail and departed, laughing.</p> + +<p>Molly looked after him with slight disapprobation on her pretty face. He +was such a thoroughly nice boy. She wished with almost unreasonable +intensity that he possessed more of that sterling quality, solidity, for +which his travelling companion, Fisher, was chiefly noteworthy.</p> + +<p>Captain Fisher approached them with a casual air as if he had drifted +their way by accident. He was one of those oppressively quiet men who +possess the unhappy knack of appearing wholly out of touch with all +social surroundings. There was a reticence about him which almost all +took for surliness, but which was in reality merely a somewhat +unattractive mixture of awkwardness and laziness.</p> + +<p>He was in the Royal Engineers, and believed to be a very clever man in +his profession. But there was never anything in the least bright or +original in his conversation. Yet, for some vague reason, Molly credited +him with the ability to do great deeds, and was particularly gracious to +him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale, who was lively herself, infinitely preferred Charlie +Cleveland's boisterous company, and on the present occasion she rose to +follow him with great promptitude.</p> + +<p>"I must find out how he has managed the rest of his costume," she said +to Molly. "It is sure to be strikingly original—like himself."</p> + +<p>The contempt deepened a little on Molly's face, contempt and regret—an +odd mixture.</p> + +<p>"He is very funny, no doubt," she said; "but I think one gets a little +tired of his perpetual gaiety. I don't think we should find him so +delightful if a storm came on. I haven't much faith in those people who +can never take anything really seriously. I believe he would die +laughing."</p> + +<p>"All the better," declared Mrs. Langdale, who loved Charlie's impetuous +ways with maternal tolerance. "It is always better to laugh than cry, my +dear; though it isn't always easier by any means."</p> + +<p>She departed with the words, laughing a little to herself at Molly's +critical mood; and Captain Fisher went and sat stolidly down beside +Molly, who turned to him with an instant smile of welcome. She was the +only lady on board who was never bored by this man's quiet society. She +liked him thoroughly, finding the contrast between him and his volatile +friend a great relief.</p> + +<p>Fisher never talked frivolities; indeed, he seldom talked at all. Yet to +Molly the hour he spent beside her on that sunny day in the +Mediterranean passed as pleasantly and easily as she could have desired.</p> + +<p>Captain Fisher might seem heavy to others, but never to her—a fact of +which secretly she was rather proud.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_II'></a><h3>II</h3> + + +<p>"Come up on deck!" whispered Charlie in an eager undertone. "There's no +one there, and the night is divine."</p> + +<p>Molly Erie looked at the strange figure in fancy-dress beside her and +laughed aloud. She had not allowed Charlie a <i>tête-à-tête</i> for many +days, but she felt that he could scarcely attempt to be sentimental in +that costume.</p> + +<p>She went with him, therefore, thinking what a pretty girl he would have +made.</p> + +<p>Charlie led her to the deck-rail. His ridiculous figure was less +obtrusively absurd in the dim light. His laughing voice, lowered +half-confidently, half-reverently, sounded less inconsequent than was +its wont.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he turned to her and spoke with wholly unexpected vehemence.</p> + +<p>"I can't keep it in," he said. "You've got to know it. Molly, I love you +most awfully. You do know it, I believe, without being told. Why do you +always run away and hide when I try to speak?"</p> + +<p>He spoke quickly, jerkily. She glanced at him with a nervous movement as +she drew back. He was not laughing for once, yet she fancied there was +the shadow of a smile quivering about his face. Possibly it was an +illusion. The dim light made everything indefinite. But the suspicion +roused in her in full strength her prejudice against him. She drew back +deliberately, and her anger grew from scorn to cruelty during the +moments that intervened between his question and her answer.</p> + +<p>"You have chosen a very appropriate occasion," she remarked icily at +length. "Do you imagine yourself irresistible when playing the fool, I +wonder?"</p> + +<p>He faced round on her.</p> + +<p>"I have taken the only opportunity I could get," he said. "I am a slave +of circumstance. If I had come to you in rational costume you would not +have consented to sit out with me."</p> + +<p>There was a ring of laughter in his explanation. He did not take her +anger seriously, then. Molly quivered with indignation. She would +speedily show him his mistake.</p> + +<p>"You think, then," she said, "that this buffoonery is too amusing to be +foregone? I am afraid I do not agree with you."</p> + +<p>She paused. Charlie had given a great start of surprise. She could see +the astonishment on his boyish face under the white mantilla he wore.</p> + +<p>"Oh, look here!" he exclaimed impetuously. "You have got the wrong side +of everything. It isn't buffoonery. I don't play with sacred things. +I'm in earnest, Molly. Can't you see it? What do you take me for?"</p> + +<p>She heard the note of honesty in his voice and shifted her batteries.</p> + +<p>"You may be—for a moment," she said, scorn vibrating in every word she +uttered. "But you will soon get over it, you know. By to-morrow, or even +sooner, all danger will be over."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" exclaimed Charlie. For the first time in all her dealings with +him he spoke sternly, as a man might speak, and Molly started at his +tone. "You are making a mistake," he said more quietly. "I am not the +superficial ass you take me for."</p> + +<p>"I have only your word for that," she returned, striking without pity +because for a second he had startled her out of her contemptuous +attitude.</p> + +<p>He looked at her in silence, and again her indignation arose full-armed +against him. How dared he—this clown in woman's clothes—speak to her +at such a moment of that which she rightly held to be the holiest thing +on earth?</p> + +<p>"How can you expect me to believe you?" she demanded. "You tell me you +are in earnest. But you know as well as I do that that is a mere figure +of speech. You are never in earnest. You play all day long. You will do +it all your life. You never do anything worth mentioning. Other people +do the work. You simply skim the surface of things. You are merely a +looker-on."</p> + +<p>"A very intelligent looker-on, though," said Charlie, in a tone she did +not wholly understand.</p> + +<p>"And if I don't do anything worth doing, it is possibly lack of +opportunity, isn't it? I can do many things, from driving engines to +playing skittles. Take a man for what he is, not for what he does! It is +the only fair estimate. Otherwise the blatant fools get all the honey."</p> + +<p>Molly uttered a scornful little laugh.</p> + +<p>"This is paltry," she exclaimed. "A man's actions are the actual man. He +can make his own opportunities. No, Mr. Cleveland. You will never +convince me of your intrinsic worth by talking."</p> + +<p>She paused, as it were, involuntarily. Again that startled feeling of +uncertainty was at her heart. There was a momentary silence. Then +Charlie made her an odd, jerky bow, and without a single word further +turned and left her.</p> + +<p>Quaint as was his attire, ungainly as were his movements, there was in +his withdrawal a touch of dignity, even a hint of the sublime; and Molly +could not understand it.</p> + +<p>She paced the length of the deck and sat down to regain her composure. +The interview had left her considerably ruffled, even ill at ease.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_III'></a><h3>III</h3> + +<p>She had been sitting there for some moments when suddenly, with a great +throb that seemed to vibrate through the whole length of the great +vessel from end to end, the engines ceased. The music in the large +saloon, where the first-class passengers were dancing, came to an abrupt +stop. There was a pause, a thrilling, intense pause; and then the +confusion of voices.</p> + +<p>A man ran quickly by her to the bridge, where she could dimly discern +the first-officer on watch. She sprang up, dreading she knew not what, +and at the same instant Charlie—she knew it was he by the flutter of +the ridiculous garb he wore—leapt off the bridge like a hurricane, and +tore past her.</p> + +<p>He was gone in a second, almost before she had had time to realise his +flying presence; and the next moment passengers were streaming up on +deck, asking questions, uttering surmises, on the verge of panic, yet +trying to ignore the anxiety that tugged at their resolution.</p> + +<p>Molly joined the crowd. She was frightened too, badly frightened; but it +is always better to face fear in company. So at least says human +instinct.</p> + +<p>The passengers collected in a restless mass on the upper deck. The +captain was seen going swiftly to the bridge. After a brief word with +him the first-officer came down to them. He was a pleasant, +easy-tempered man, and did not appear in the least dismayed.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he said, raising his voice. "Please don't be alarmed! +There has been a little accident in the engine-room. The captain hopes +you won't let it interfere with your dancing."</p> + +<p>He placed himself in the thick of the strangely dressed crowd. His +clean-shaven face was perfectly unconcerned.</p> + +<p>"I'll come and join you, if I may," he said. "The captain allows me to +knock off. Will you admit a non-fancy-dresser?"</p> + +<p>He led the way below, calling for the orchestra as he went. The +frightened crowd turned and followed as if in this one man who spoke +with the voice of authority protection could be found. But they hung +back from dancing, and after a pause the first-officer seized a banjo +and proceeded to entertain them with comic songs. He kept it up for a +while, and then Mrs. Langdale went nobly to his assistance and sang some +Irish songs. One or two other volunteers presented themselves, and the +evening's entertainment developed into a concert.</p> + +<p>The tension relaxed considerably as the time slipped by, but it did not +wholly pass. It was noticed that the doctor was absent.</p> + +<p>A reluctance to disperse for the night was very manifestly obvious.</p> + +<p>About two hours after the first alarm the great ship thrilled as if in +answer to some monster touch. The languid roll ceased. The engines +started again firmly, regularly, with gradually rising speed. In less +than a minute all was as it had been.</p> + +<p>A look of intense relief shot across the first-officer's quiet face.</p> + +<p>"That means 'All's well,'" he said, raising his voice a little. "Let us +congratulate ourselves and turn in!"</p> + +<p>"There has been danger, then, Mr. Gresley?" queried Mrs. Granville, a +lady who liked to know everything in detail.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gresley laughed with an indifference perfectly unaffected. "I +believe the engineers thought so," he said. "I must refer you to them +for particulars. Anyhow, it's all right now. I am going to tell the +steward to bring coffee."</p> + +<p>He got up leisurely and strolled away.</p> + +<p>There was a slight commotion on the other side of the door as he opened +it, a giggle that sounded rather hysterical. A moment later Lady Jane +Grey; her head-gear gone, her shorn curls looking absurdly frivolous, +walked mincingly into the saloon and subsided upon the nearest seat. She +was attended by Captain Fisher, who looked anxious.</p> + +<p>"Such a misfortune!" she remarked, in a squeaky voice that sounded, +somehow, a horrible strain. "I have been shut up in the Tower and have +only just escaped. I trust I am not too late for my execution. I'm +afraid I have kept you all waiting."</p> + +<p>All the heaviness of misgiving passed out of the atmosphere in a burst +of merriment.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth have you been hiding?" shouted Major Granville. "I +believe you have been playing the fool with us, you rascal."</p> + +<p>"I!" cried Charlie. "My dear sir, what are you thinking of? If you were +to breathe such a suspicion as that to the captain he would clap me in +irons for the rest of the voyage."</p> + +<p>"You have been in the engine-room for all that," said Mrs. Langdale, +whose powers of observation were very keen. "Look at your skirt!"</p> + +<p>Charlie glanced at the garment in question. It was certainly the worse +for wear. There were some curious patches in the front that had the +appearance of oil stains.</p> + +<p>"That'll be all right!" he said cheerfully. "I had a fright and tumbled +upstairs. Skirts are beastly awkward things to run away in, aren't they, +Mrs. Langdale? Well, good-night all! I'm going to bed."</p> + +<p>He got up with the words, grinned at everyone collectively, picked up +the injured skirt with exaggerated care, and stepped out of the saloon.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale looked after him, half-laughing, yet with a touch of +concern.</p> + +<p>"He looks queer," she remarked to Molly, who was standing by her. "Quite +white and shaky. I believe something has happened to him. He has hurt +himself in some way."</p> + +<p>But Molly was feeling peculiarly indignant at that moment, though not +on account of her ruined skirt.</p> + +<p>"He's a silly poltroon!" she said with emphasis, and walked stiffly +away.</p> + +<p>Charlie Cleveland had recovered from his serious fit even sooner than +she had thought possible; and, though she had made it sufficiently clear +to him that as a serious suitor he was utterly unwelcome, she was +intensely angry with him for having so swiftly resumed his customary gay +spirits.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_IV'></a><h3>IV</h3> + +<p>"Come! What happened last evening? We want to know," said Major +Granville, in his slightly overbearing manner. "I saw you with the +second engineer this morning, Fisher. I'm sure you have ferreted it +out."</p> + +<p>"I am not at liberty to pass on my information," responded Fisher +stolidly. "You wouldn't understand it if I did, Major. There was danger +and there was steam. Two of the engineers had their arms scalded, and +one of the stokers was badly hurt. I can't tell you any more than that."</p> + +<p>"Do you go so far as to say that the ship herself was in danger?" asked +Major Granville. He was talking loudly, as was his wont, across the +smoking saloon.</p> + +<p>"I should say so," said Fisher, without lifting his eyes from the +magazine he was deliberately studying.</p> + +<p>"Where is young Cleveland this morning?" asked the Major abruptly.</p> + +<p>Fisher shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"He was in his bunk when I saw him last. Heaven knows what he may be up +to by now."</p> + +<p>Charlie Cleveland strolled in at this juncture. He had his right arm in +a sling.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" he said. "How are you all? I'm on the sick-list to-day. I +sprained my wrist when I fell up the steps yesterday."</p> + +<p>Fisher glanced at him for a moment over the top of his magazine and +resumed his reading in silence.</p> + +<p>"Look here, my friend!" he said. "You were in the thick of this engine +business. I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>"I was," said Charlie readily. "But for me you would all be at the +bottom of the sea by this time."</p> + +<p>He threw himself into a chair with a broad grin at Major Granville's +contemptuous countenance and took up a book.</p> + +<p>Major Granville looked intensely disgusted. It was scarcely credible +that a passenger could have penetrated to the engine-room and interfered +with the machinery there, yet he more than half believed that this +outrageous thing had actually occurred. He got up after a brief silence +and stalked stiffly from the saloon.</p> + +<p>Charlie banged down his book with a yell of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you, Fisher?" he cried. "He's gone to have a good, +square, face-to-face talk with the captain. But he won't get anything +out of him. I've been there first."</p> + +<p>He went up on deck and found a party of quoit-players. Molly Erle was +among them. Charlie stood and watched, yelling advice and +encouragement.</p> + +<p>"Looking on as usual?" the girl said to him presently, with a bitter +little smile, as she found herself near him.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'm really afraid to speak to you to-day," he said. "Your skirt will +never again bear the light of day."</p> + +<p>"What happened?" she said briefly.</p> + +<p>The game was over, and they strolled away together across the deck.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," he said, with ill-suppressed gaiety in his voice. "We +should all have been blown out of the water last night if it hadn't been +for me. Forgetful of my finery, I went and—looked on. The magic result +was that I saved the situation, and—incidentally, of course—the ship."</p> + +<p>He stopped.</p> + +<p>"You don't believe me?" he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>Her lip curled a little.</p> + +<p>"Do you really expect to be believed?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he said; "I thought it was the usual thing to do between +friends."</p> + +<p>"I was not aware—" began Molly.</p> + +<p>He broke in with a most disarming smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please," he said. "I don't deserve that—anyhow. I'm awfully sorry +about the skirt. I hope you'll let me bear the cost of the damage. I've +got into hot water all round. Nobody will believe I'm seriously sorry, +though it's a fact for all that. Don't be hard on me, Molly, I say!"</p> + +<p>There was a note of genuine pleading in the last words that induced her +to relent a little.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I'll forgive you for the skirt," she said. "I suppose boys +can't help being mischievous, though you are nearly old enough to know +better."</p> + +<p>She looked at him as she said it. His face was comically penitent. +Somehow she could not quarrel with the lurking smile in his merry eyes. +He was certainly a boy. He would never be anything else. But Molly did +not realise this, and she was still too young herself to have +appreciated the gift of perpetual youth had she been aware of its +existence.</p> + +<p>"That's right!" said Charlie cheerily. "And perhaps"—he spoke +cautiously, with a half-deprecatory glance at her bright +face—"perhaps—in time, you know—you will be able to forgive me for +something else as well."</p> + +<p>"I think the less we say about that the better," remarked Molly, tilting +her chin a little.</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Charlie equably. "Only, you know"—his voice was +suddenly grave—"I was—and am—in earnest."</p> + +<p>Molly laughed.</p> + +<p>"So far as in you lies, I suppose?" she said indifferently. "I wonder if +you ever really did anything worth doing in your life, Mr. Cleveland."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would call me Charlie!" he said impulsively. "Yes. I +proposed to you last night. Wasn't that worth doing?"</p> + +<p>She drew her brows together in a quick frown, but she made no reply. +Fisher was drifting towards them. She turned deliberately, her head very +high, and strolled to meet him.</p> + +<p>Charlie glanced over his shoulder, stood a moment irresolute, then +walked away more soberly than usual towards the bridge, where he was a +constant and welcome visitor.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_V'></a><h3>V</h3> + +<p>"There are plenty of fine chaps in the world who aren't to be recognised +as such at first sight," drawled Bertie Richmond to his young cousin, +Molly Erle, who was sitting with her feet on the fender on a very cold +winter evening.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of that," said Mrs. Richmond from the other side of the fire, +with a tender glance at her husband's loosely knit figure. "I never +thought there was an inch of heroism in you, Bertie darling, till that +day when we went punting and we got upset. How brave you were! I've +never forgotten it. It was the beginning of everything."</p> + +<p>"It sounds as if it were nearer being the end," remarked Molly, who +systematically avoided all sentiment. "I don't believe myself that any +man can be actually heroic and yet not betray it somehow."</p> + +<p>"You're wrong," said Bertie.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Molly. She could be quite as obstinate as most +women, and this was a point upon which she was very decided.</p> + +<p>"I'll prove it," said Bertie, with quiet determination. "There's a chap +coming with the crowd of sportsmen to-morrow who is the bravest and, I +think, the best fellow I ever met. I shan't tell you who he is. I'll +leave you to find out—if you can. But I don't believe you will."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure I can tell the difference between a looker-on, a mere +loafer, and a man who does," said Molly, with absolute confidence.</p> + +<p>"Bet you you don't!" murmured Bertie Richmond, smiling at the ceiling. +"I know the woman's theory so jolly well."</p> + +<p>Molly smiled also.</p> + +<p>"I'll take your bet, whatever it is, Bertie," she said.</p> + +<p>Bertie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't bet on a dead cert," he said comfortably. "I'll even tell +you the fellow's heroic deeds, and then you'll never spot him. I met him +first in South Africa. He saved my life twice. Once he carried me nearly +a mile under fire, and got wounded in the process. Another time he sat +all night under fire holding a fellow's artery. Since then he has been +knocking about in odd corners, doing splendid things in the dark, as it +were, for he is horribly modest. The last I heard of him was from my +friend Captain Raglan. He travelled on Raglan's ship from Calcutta, One +night in the Mediterranean something went wrong in the engine-room. Two +of the boat's engineers were badly scalded. They managed to get away, +but a wretched stoker was too hurt to escape, and this fellow—this hero +of mine—went down into a perfect inferno and got him out. Not only +that, he went back afterwards with one of the engineers to direct him, +and worked like a bull till the mischief was put right. There was danger +of an explosion every moment, but he never lost his nerve for an +instant. When it was over everyone concerned was sworn to secrecy, and +not a passenger on board that boat knew what had actually taken place. +As I said before, he is not the sort of chap anyone would credit with +that sort of heroism. I shan't tell you what he is like in other +respects."</p> + +<p>"I probably know," said Molly. "I came home on Captain Raglan's ship in +the autumn."</p> + +<p>"What! You were on board?" exclaimed Bertie. "What a rum go! You will +meet one or two old friends, then. And the hero is probably known to you +already, though I'm sure you have never taken him for such."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're quite wrong!" laughed Molly. "I have known him and detected +his splendid qualities for quite a long while. He is nice, isn't he? I +am glad he is coming."</p> + +<p>She took up her book with slightly heightened colour, and began to turn +over its pages.</p> + +<p>Bertie Richmond stared at her in silence for some moments.</p> + +<p>"Well!" he said at last. "You have got sharper insight than any woman I +know."</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Molly, with an indifferent laugh. "But you are not so +awfully great on that point yourself, are you, Bertie? I should say you +are scarcely a competent judge."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Richmond protested on Bertie's behalf, but without effect. Molly +was slightly vexed with him for imagining that she could be so dull.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_VI'></a><h3>VI</h3> + +<p>The great country house was invaded by a host of guests on the following +day. Portmanteaux and gun-cases were continually in evidence. The place +was filled to overflowing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale, who was Mrs. Richmond's greatest friend, arrived in +excellent spirits, and was delighted to find Molly Erle a fellow-guest.</p> + +<p>"And actually," she said, "Charlie Cleveland and Captain Fisher are +going to swell the throng of sportsmen. We shall imagine ourselves back +in our old board-ship days. Charlie was talking about them and of all +the fun we had only last Saturday. Yes, I have seen him several times +lately. He has been staying in town, waiting for something to turn up, +he says. Funny boy! He is just as gay as ever. And Captain Fisher, whom +he dragged to my flat to tea, is every bit as heavy and uninteresting, +poor dear!"</p> + +<p>"I don't call Captain Fisher uninteresting," remarked Molly. "At least, +I never found him so in the old days."</p> + +<p>"My dear, he is heavy as lead!" declared Mrs. Langdale. "I believe he +only opened his mouth once to speak, and then it was to ask for five +lumps of sugar instead of three. A most wearing person to entertain. I +will never have him at my table without Charlie to raise the gloom. He +and Charlie seemed to have decided to join forces for the present. They +spent Christmas together with Captain Fisher's people. I don't know if +they are as sober as he is. If so, poor dear Charlie must have felt +distinctly out of his element. But his spirits are wonderful. I believe +he would make a tombstone laugh."</p> + +<p>"It will be nice to see him again," said Molly tolerantly. "It is three +months now since we dispersed."</p> + +<p>She made the remark with another thought in her mind. Surely by this +Charlie would have forgotten the folly that had caused her annoyance in +the old days! Constancy was the very last quality with which she +credited him. Or so at least she thought.</p> + +<p>She went for a walk on the rocky shore that afternoon, meeting the +steely north-east blast with a good deal of resolution, if scant +enjoyment. Something in the immediate future she found vaguely +disquieting, something connected with Charlie Cleveland.</p> + +<p>She did not believe that her estimate of this young man was in any way +wide of the mark. And yet the thought of meeting him again had in it a +disturbing element for which she could not account. It worried her a +good deal that wild afternoon in January. Perhaps a suspicion that she +had once done young Cleveland an injustice strengthened the unwelcome +sense of regret, for it felt like regret in her mind.</p> + +<p>Yet as she turned homeward along the windy shore one comforting +reflection came to her and remained with her. She was at least +unfeignedly glad that Captain Fisher was going to be there. She liked +those silent, strong men who did all the hard work and then stood aside +to let the tide of praise and admiration flood past.</p> + +<p>Right well did her cousin's description fit this quiet hero, she told +herself with flushed cheeks.</p> + +<p>She remembered how he had spoken of him as "doing splendid things in the +dark, as it were," as being "horribly modest." Fisher's heavy +personality came before her with the memory. She could detect the +heroism behind the grave exterior with which this man baffled all +others.</p> + +<p>If Charlie had been a hero, too, instead of a frivolous imp of mischief!</p> + +<p>A sigh rose in her heart. Somehow, even though she told herself she had +no interest in the matter, Molly wished that he were something more +valuable than the flippant looker-on she took him to be. How could any +man, who was worth anything, bear to be only that, she wondered?</p> + +<p>She found a large party gathered in the hall at tea on her return. A +laugh she knew fell on her ears as she entered, and an instant later she +was aware of Charlie springing to meet her, his brown face aglow with +the smile of welcome.</p> + +<p>"How awfully good to meet you here, Molly!" he said, with that audacious +use of her Christian name against which no protest of hers seemed to +take any effect.</p> + +<p>She shook hands with him and she tried to do it coldly, but his warm +grasp was close and lingering. She realised with something of a shock +that he really was as glad as he professed to be to see her again.</p> + +<p>She went forward to the group around the fire and shook hands with all +she knew.</p> + +<p>Captain Fisher was the last to receive this attention. He was standing +in the background. He moved forward half a pace to greet her. In his own +peculiar, dumb fashion he also seemed pleased to meet her there.</p> + +<p>He had an untasted cup of tea in his hand which he hastened to pass on +to her.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't accept it if I were you," laughed Mrs. Langdale. "I saw ten +lumps of sugar go into it just now."</p> + +<p>Fisher raised his eyebrows, but made no verbal protest. He never spoke +if a gesture would do as well.</p> + +<p>Molly accepted the cup of tea with a gracious smile, and Fisher found +her a chair and sat silently down beside her.</p> + +<p>Molly had plenty to say at all times. Her companion did not embarrass +her by his lack of responsiveness as he embarrassed most people. She had +a feeling that his reticence did not spring from inattention.</p> + +<p>"I am going to let you have the Silent Fish, as Charlie calls him, for +partner at dinner," her hostess said to her later. "You are a positive +marvel, Molly. He becomes quite genial under your influence."</p> + +<p>Fisher brightened considerably when he found himself allotted to Molly. +He even conversed a little, and went so far as to seek her out in the +drawing-room later.</p> + +<p>Charlie, who was making tracks in the same direction, turned sharply +away when he saw it, and went off to the billiard-room where several of +the rest were collected playing pool. He was in uproarious spirits, and +the whole gathering was speedily infected thereby.</p> + +<p>The evening ended in a boisterous abandonment to childish games, and the +party broke up at midnight, exhausted but still merry. Charlie, after an +animated sponge-fight with half-a-dozen other sportsmen, finally effaced +himself by bolting into Fisher's bedroom and locking himself in.</p> + +<p>To Fisher, who was smoking peacefully by the fire, he made hurried +apology, to which Fisher gruffly responded by requesting him to get out.</p> + +<p>But Charlie, after listening to the babel dying away down the corridor, +turned round with a smile and established himself at comfortable length +on Fisher's bed.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you, dear old fellow," he tenderly remarked. "Can you +spare me a few moments of your valuable time?"</p> + +<p>"Two minutes," said Fisher with brevity.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! What generosity!" ejaculated Charlie, his hands clasped behind +his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "It's rather a delicate matter. +However, here goes! Do you seriously mean business, or don't you? Are +you in sober earnest, or aren't you? Are you badly smitten, or are you +only just beginning to hover round the candle? Pardon my mixture of +similes! The meaning remains intact."</p> + +<p>Silence followed his somewhat involved speech. After a pause Captain +Fisher got up slowly, and turned round to face the boy on his bed.</p> + +<p>"Whatever your meaning may be, I don't fathom it," he said curtly.</p> + +<p>Charlie rolled on to his side to look at him.</p> + +<p>"Dense as a London fog," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go," said Fisher, dropping his cigarette into the fire and +beginning to undress.</p> + +<p>Charlie sat up and watched him with an air of interest. Fisher took no +more notice of him. There was no waste of ceremony between these two.</p> + +<p>Charlie got up at last and laid sudden hands on his friend's square +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I think it wouldn't hurt you to give me a straight answer, old boy," he +said, a flicker of something that was not mischief in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Fisher faced him instantly.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want to know?" he inquired bluntly.</p> + +<p>"This only," Charlie said, with perfect steadiness. "Are you going in +for Miss Erle in solid earnest or are you not? I want to know your +intentions, that's all."</p> + +<p>"I can't enlighten you, then," returned Fisher.</p> + +<p>Charlie laughed without effort.</p> + +<p>"Cautious old duffer!" he said. "Well, tell me this! I've no right to +ask it. Only somehow I've got to know. You care for her, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Fisher looked at him keenly for a moment. "Why do you ask?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's infernal impertinence, of course. I admit that," said Charlie, +his tanned face growing suddenly red. "I suspected it, you see, ages +ago—on board ship, in fact. Is it true, then?"</p> + +<p>Fisher turned abruptly from him, and began to wind his watch with +extreme care. He spoke at length with his back turned on Charlie, who +was waiting with extraordinary patience for his answer.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said deliberately. "It is true."</p> + +<p>"Go on and prosper!" said Charlie with a gay laugh. "You have my +blessing, old chap. Thanks for telling me!"</p> + +<p>He moved up to Fisher and thrust out an immense brown paw.</p> + +<p>"Take a friend's advice, man!" he said. "Ask her soon!"</p> + +<p>Then he bounced out of the room with his usual brisk energy, and shut +the door noisily behind him.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_VII'></a><h3>VII</h3> + +<p>Was it by happy accident or by some kind friend's deliberate provision +that Fisher found himself walking alone with Molly Erle to church on the +following Sunday? Across the frosty park the voices of the other +churchgoers sounded fitfully distinct.</p> + +<p>Charlie Cleveland and another boy called Archie Croft, as hare-brained +as himself, were making Mrs. Langdale slide along the slippery drive. +Mrs. Langdale's laughter could be plainly heard. Molly thought her, +privately, rather childish to suffer herself to be thus carried away.</p> + +<p>Her companion was sauntering very slowly at her side.</p> + +<p>"I think we are late," Molly presently remarked, in a suggestive tone.</p> + +<p>"Are we?" said Fisher. "Does it matter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Molly with decision. "I don't like going in after the +service has begun."</p> + +<p>"We won't," said Fisher.</p> + +<p>She looked at him in some surprise and found him gravely watching her.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we ought to do that," she remarked, smiling a little.</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you to-night," said Fisher, "if you will come with me +now."</p> + +<p>They had come to a path that branched off towards the shore. He stopped +with an air of determination.</p> + +<p>Molly stopped too, looking irresolute. Her heart was beating very fast. +She wished he would turn his eyes away.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he took his hand from his pocket and held it out to her.</p> + +<p>"Come with me, Miss Erle!" he said, in a quiet tone.</p> + +<p>She hesitated momentarily, then as he waited she put her hand in his.</p> + +<p>She glanced up at him as she did so, her face a glow of colour.</p> + +<p>"How far, Captain Fisher?" she said faintly.</p> + +<p>"All the way," said Fisher, with a sudden smile that illuminated his +sombre countenance like a searchlight on a dark sea.</p> + +<p>Molly laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"How far is that?" she said.</p> + +<p>He drew the little hand to his breast and put his free arm round her.</p> + +<p>"Further than we can see, Molly," he said, and his quiet voice suddenly +thrilled. "Side by side through eternity."</p> + +<p>Thus, with no word of love, did Fisher the Silent take to himself the +priceless gift of love. And the girl he wooed loved him the better for +that which he left unuttered.</p> + +<p>They returned home late for lunch, entering sheepishly, and sitting down +as far apart as the length of the table would allow.</p> + +<p>Charlie fell upon Fisher with merciless promptitude.</p> + +<p>"You base defaulter!" he cried. "I'll see you march in front next time. +I was never more scandalised in my life than when I realised that you +and Molly had done a slope."</p> + +<p>Fisher shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and offered no explanation +of his and Molly's defection.</p> + +<p>Charlie kept up a running fire of chaff for some time, to which Fisher, +as was his wont, showed himself to be perfectly indifferent. Lunch over, +Molly disappeared. Charlie saw her go and turned instantly to Fisher.</p> + +<p>"Come and have a single on the asphalt court!" he said. "I haven't tried +it yet. I want to."</p> + +<p>Fisher was reluctant, but yielded to persuasion.</p> + +<p>They went off together, Charlie with an affectionate arm round his +friend's shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I am to congratulate, I suppose?" he asked, as they crossed the garden +to the tennis-court.</p> + +<p>Fisher looked at him gravely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You may, if it gives you any pleasure to do so, my boy," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's good!" said Charlie. "You're a jolly good fellow, old chap. +You'll make her awfully happy."</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best," Fisher said.</p> + +<p>Charlie passed instantly to less serious matters, but the critical look +did not pass entirely from Fisher's face. He seemed to be watching for +something, for some card that Charlie did not appear disposed to play.</p> + +<p>Throughout the hard set that followed, his vigilance did not relax; but +Charlie played with all his customary zest. Tennis was to him for the +time being the only thing worth doing on the face of the earth. In his +enthusiasm he speedily stripped off his coat and rolled his sleeves to +the shoulder as if it had been the hottest summer day.</p> + +<p>At the end of the set, which Charlie won, a couple of spectators who had +come up unseen applauded their energy, and Charlie, swinging round in +flushed triumph, raced up for a word with his host and Molly Erie.</p> + +<p>"I can't stuff over a fire all the afternoon," he said. "But the light +is getting bad, isn't it? Fisher and I will have to knock off. Are you +two going for a walk? We'll come, too, if you are, eh, Fisher?"</p> + +<p>He turned towards Fisher, who had come up, and held out his hand for the +other's racquet.</p> + +<p>Molly uttered a sudden startled exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Why, Charlie," she ejaculated, "what have you done to your arm? What is +the matter with it?"</p> + +<p>Charlie jumped at her startled tone and tore down his shirt-sleeve +hastily.</p> + +<p>"An old wound," he said, with a shame-faced laugh.</p> + +<p>She put her gloved hand swiftly on his to stay his operations.</p> + +<p>"No, tell me!" she said. "What is it—really? How was it done?"</p> + +<p>"You will never get him to tell you that," laughed Bertie Richmond. "You +had better ask Fisher."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rats!" cried Charlie vehemently. "Fisher, I'll break your head with +this racquet if you give my show away. Come along! I believe the moon +has contracted a romantic habit of rising over the sea when the sun +sets. Let's go and——"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Molly," broke in Bertie, linking a firm arm in Charlie's +to keep him quiet. "He can't break his host's head, you know. It's a +scald, eh, Charlie? He got it in the engine-room of the <i>Andover</i> one +night in the autumn. You were on board, you know. Help me to hold him, +Fisher! He's getting restive. But I thought you knew all about it, +Molly. You told me so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know—this!" the girl said. "How could I? I never +guessed—this!"</p> + +<p>Her three listeners were all surprised by the tragic note in her voice. +There was a momentary silence. Then Charlie made a fierce attempt to +wrest himself free.</p> + +<p>"You infernal idiots!" he exclaimed violently. "Fisher, if you interfere +with me any more I—I'll punch your head! Bertie, don't be such a fool!"</p> + +<p>He shook them off with an angry effort. Fisher laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>"You can't always hide your light, my dear fellow," he observed. "If you +will do impossible things, you will have to put up with the penalty of +being occasionally found out."</p> + +<p>"Silly ass!" commented Bertie. "Anyone would think that to save a few +hundred human lives was a thing to be ashamed of. It was the same thing +in South Africa; always slinking off into the background when the work +was done, till everyone took you for nothing but a looker-on—a chap who +ought to wear the V.C., if ever there was one," he ended, thrusting an +arm through Charlie's, as the latter, having put on his coat, turned +once more towards them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are utterly wrong," the boy said forcibly, almost angrily. "If +you judge a man by what he does on impulse you might decorate the +biggest blackguard in the world with the V.C."</p> + +<p>"You're made of impulse, my dear lad," Bertie remarked, walking off with +him. "You're a mass of impulse. That's why you do such idiotic things."</p> + +<p>Charlie yielded, chafing, to the friendly hand.</p> + +<p>"I should like to kick you, Bertie," he said.</p> + +<p>But he went no further than that. Bertie Richmond was his very good +friend, and he was Bertie's. Neither of them was likely to forget that +fact.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_VIII'></a><h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>"Oh, Charlie, here you are! I <i>am</i> glad!"</p> + +<p>Molly entered the smoking-room with an air of resolution. She had just +returned from evening church with Fisher. They were late, and the latter +had gone off to dress forthwith.</p> + +<p>But Molly had glanced into the smoking-room, and, seeing Charlie alone +there, as she had half hoped but scarcely expected, she entered.</p> + +<p>Charlie sprang up instantly, his brown face exceedingly alert.</p> + +<p>"Come to the fire!" he said hospitably.</p> + +<p>Molly went, but did not sit down. She stood facing him on the +hearth-rug. Her young face was very troubled.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you," she said steadily, "how sorry—and grieved—I am +for all the hard things I have said and thought of you. I would like to +retract them all. I was quite wrong. I took you for an idler—a buffoon +almost. I know better now. And I—I should like you to forgive me."</p> + +<p>Her voice suddenly faltered. Her eyes were full of tears she could +neither repress nor conceal.</p> + +<p>Charlie, however, seemed to notice nothing strained in the atmosphere. +He broke into a gay laugh and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," he said briskly. "Shake hands and forget what +those asses said about me! You were quite right, you know. I am a +buffoon. There isn't an inch of heroism anywhere about me. You took my +measure long ago, didn't you? To change the subject, I'm most awfully +pleased to hear that you and old Fisher have come to an understanding. +Congratulate you most heartily. There's solid worth in that chap. He +goes straight ahead and never plays the fool."</p> + +<p>He looked straight at her as he spoke. Not by the flicker of an eyelid +did he seem to recall the fact that he had once asked on his own behalf +that which he apparently so heartily approved of her bestowing upon +another.</p> + +<p>Yet Molly, torn with remorse over what was irrevocable, did a most +outrageous thing.</p> + +<p>"Charlie!" she cried, with a deep ringing passion that would not be +suppressed. "Why have I been deceived like this? Why didn't you tell me? +How could you let me imagine anything so false?" She flung out her other +hand to him and he took it; but still he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, Molly!" he protested. "I did tell you, you know. I told you +the day after it happened. Don't you remember? I had to account for the +skirt."</p> + +<p>She wrenched her hands away from him. The thrill of laughter in his +voice seemed to jar all her nerves. She was, moreover, wearied with the +emotions of the day.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you see," she cried passionately, "how different it might +have been? If you had told me—if you had made me understand! I could +have cared—I did care—only you seemed to me—unworthy. How could I +know? What chance had I?"</p> + +<p>She bowed her head suddenly, and burst into a storm of bitter weeping.</p> + +<p>Charlie turned white to his lips. He stood perfectly motionless till the +anguished sobbing goaded him beyond endurance. Then he flung round with +a jerk.</p> + +<p>"Stop, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed harshly. "I can't bear it. It's +too much—too much."</p> + +<p>He moved close to her, his face twitching, and took her shaking +shoulders between his hands.</p> + +<p>"Molly!" he said almost violently. "You don't know what you said just +now. You didn't mean it. It has always been Fisher—always, from the +very beginning."</p> + +<p>She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing +as in passionate despair.</p> + +<p>And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the +smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over +the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time.</p> + +<p>Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken +stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy +had never seen there before—a look that it was impossible to ignore.</p> + +<p>Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room.</p> + +<p>"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly.</p> + +<p>He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers.</p> + +<p>"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired—upset. There is +nothing really the matter."</p> + +<p>But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip.</p> + +<p>"I will talk to you presently," he said. "You clear out!"</p> + +<p>He pushed past Charlie and went straight to the girl. His jaw was set +with a determination that would have astonished most of his friends.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Molly?" he said, halting close beside her. "What is wrong, +child?"</p> + +<p>But Molly could not tell him. She turned towards him indeed, laying an +imploring hand on his arm; but she kept her face hidden and uttered no +word.</p> + +<p>It was Charlie who plunged recklessly into the opening breach—plunged +with a wholesale gallantry, regardless of everything but the moment's +emergency.</p> + +<p>"It's my doing, Fisher," he declared, his voice shaking a little. "I've +been making an ass of myself. It was, partly your fault, too—yours and +Bertie's. Let her go! I'll explain."</p> + +<p>He was excited and he spoke quickly, but his eyes were very steady.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said, "you go upstairs! You've got to dress, you know, and +you'll be late. I'll make it all right. Don't you worry yourself!"</p> + +<p>Molly lifted a perfectly white face and looked at Fisher. She met his +eyes, struggled with herself a moment, then with quivering lips turned +slowly away. He did not try to stop her. He realised that Charlie must +be disposed of before he attempted to extract an explanation from her.</p> + +<p>Charlie sprang to the door, shut it hastily after her, and turned the +key.</p> + +<p>"Now!" he said, and, wheeling, marched straight back to Fisher and +halted before him. "You want an explanation. You shall have one. You +gave my show away this afternoon. You made her imagine that in taking me +for an ordinary—or perhaps I should say a rather extraordinary—fool +she had done me an injustice. She came in her sweetness and told me she +was sorry. And I—forgot myself, and said things that made her cry. That +is the whole matter."</p> + +<p>"What did you say to her?" demanded Fisher.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to tell you."</p> + +<p>"You shall tell me!" said Fisher.</p> + +<p>He took a step forward, all the hidden force in him risen to the +surface.</p> + +<p>Charlie faced him for a second with his head flung defiantly back, then, +as Fisher laid a powerful hand on his shoulder, he stuck his hands in +his pockets and smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"No, old chap," he said. "I'll apologise to you, if you like. But you +haven't any right to ask for more."</p> + +<p>"I have a right to know why what you said upset her," Fisher said.</p> + +<p>Charlie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Not the smallest," he said. "But I should have thought your imagination +might have accomplished that much. Surely you needn't grudge the tears +of pity a woman wastes over a man she has had to disappoint?"</p> + +<p>He spoke with his eyes on Fisher's face. He was not afraid of Fisher, +yet his look of relief was unmistakable as the hand on his shoulder +relaxed.</p> + +<p>"You care for her, then?" Fisher said.</p> + +<p>Charlie flung impetuously away from him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, need we discuss the thing any further?" he said. "I'm on the wrong +side of the hedge, and that's enough. I hope you won't say any more to +her about it. You will only distress her."</p> + +<p>He walked to the end of the room and came slowly back to Fisher, whose +eyes were sternly fixed upon him. He thrust out his hand impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, old chap!" he said. "After all, I've got the hardest part."</p> + +<p>Fisher's face softened.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, boy," he said, and took the proffered hand.</p> + +<p>"I'll clear out to-morrow," Charlie said. "You'll forget this foolery of +mine?" gripping Fisher's hand hard for a moment.</p> + +<p>Fisher did not answer him. He struck him instead a sounding blow on the +shoulder, and Charlie turned away satisfied. He had played a difficult +game with considerable skill. That it had been a losing game did not at +the moment enter into his calculations. He had not played for his own +stakes.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_IX'></a><h3>IX</h3> + +<p>"Jove! It's a wild night," said Archie Croft comfortably, as he +stretched out his legs to the smoking-room fire. "What's become of +Charlie? He doesn't usually retire early."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he has retired," said Bertie Richmond sleepily. "I saw +him go out something over an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"Out?" said Croft. "What on earth for?"</p> + +<p>"Up to some fool trick or other, no doubt," said Fisher from the +smoking-room sofa.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Fisher! I thought you were asleep," said Bertie. "You ought to +be. It's after midnight. Time we all turned in if we mean to start early +with the guns to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Croft stretched himself and rose leisurely.</p> + +<p>"It's a positively murderous night!" he remarked, strolling to the +window. "There must be a tremendous sea."</p> + +<p>He drew aside the blind, staring at the blackness that seemed to press +against the pane. A moment later, with a sharp exclamation, he ripped +back the blind and flung the window wide open. An icy spout of rain and +snow whirled into the room. Richmond turned round to expostulate, but +was met by a face of such wild excitement that his protest remained +unuttered.</p> + +<p>"I saw a rocket!" Croft declared.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rats!" murmured Fisher.</p> + +<p>"It isn't rats!" he said indignantly. "It's a ship down among those +infernal rocks. I'm off to see what's doing."</p> + +<p>"Hi! Wait a minute!" exclaimed his host, starting up. "You are perfectly +certain, are you, Croft? No humbug? I heard no report."</p> + +<p>"Who could hear anything in a gale like this?" returned Croft +impatiently. "Yes, of course, I am certain. Are you coming?"</p> + +<p>"I must send a man on horseback to the life-boat station," said Bertie, +starting towards the door. "It's two miles round the headland. They may +not know there is anything up."</p> + +<p>He was out of the room with the words. The rest of the men in the +smoking-room followed. Fisher remained to shut the window. He stood a +couple of seconds before it, facing the hurricane. The night was like +pitch. The angry roar of the sea half-a-mile away surged up on the +tearing gale like the voice of a devouring monster. He turned away into +the cosy room and followed the others.</p> + +<p>The whole party went out into the raging night. They groped their way +after Bertie to the stables. A groom was dispatched on horseback to the +life-boat station. Lanterns were then procured, and, with the blast full +in their teeth, they fought their way to the shore.</p> + +<p>Here were darkness and desolation unspeakable. The tide was high. Great +waves, flashing white through the darkness, came smiting through the +rocks as if they would rend the very surface of the earth apart. The +clouds scurrying overhead uncovered a star or two and instantly drew +together in impenetrable darkness.</p> + +<p>Down by the sea-wall that protected the little village nestling between +the cliffs and the sea they found a knot of men and women. A short +distance away in the boiling tumult there shone a shifting light, but +between it and the shore the storm-god held undisputed possession.</p> + +<p>"That's her!" explained one of the men to Bertie Richmond. "She's sunk +right down in them rocks, sir. It's a little schooner. I see her masts +a-stickin' up just now."</p> + +<p>The man was one of his own gardeners. He yelled his information into +Bertie's ear with great enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"Have you sent to the lifeboat chaps?" shouted Bertie.</p> + +<p>"Young gentleman went an hour ago," came the answer. "But they are off +on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to +go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o' +rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit +o' eggshell. There's only three chaps aboard as far as we could see +awhile ago. And not a hundred yards off us. But it's a hundred yards of +death, as you might say. No boat could live through it. It ain't worth +the trying."</p> + +<p>A hundred yards of death and only three little human lives to be gained +by the awful risk of braving that hundred yards!</p> + +<p>Bertie turned away, feeling sick, yet silently agreeing. Who could hope +to pass unharmed through that raging darkness, that tossing nightmare of +great waters? Yet the thought of those three lives beating outward in +agony and terror while he and his friends stood helplessly by took him +by the throat.</p> + +<p>Suddenly through a lull of the tempest there came a great shout.</p> + +<p>The clouds had drifted asunder and a few stars shone vaguely down on the +wild scene. The dim light showed the doomed vessel wedged among the +rocks that stuck up, black and threatening, through the racing foam.</p> + +<p>Nearer at hand, huddled on the stout sea-wall, stood the little group of +watchers, their faces all turned outwards towards the two masts of the +little schooner, which remained faintly discernible through the shifting +gloom.</p> + +<p>It was not more than a hundred yards away, Bertie realised. Yet the +impossibility of rescue was as apparent as if it had been a hundred +miles from land. He fancied he could see a couple of figures half-way up +one of the masts, but the light was elusive. He could not be certain of +this.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a hand gripped his elbow, and he found Archie Croft beside him, +yelling excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Don't let him go!" he bawled. "It's madness—sheer madness!"</p> + +<p>Bertie turned sharply. Close to him, his head bare, and clothed still in +evening dress, stood Charlie Cleveland. A coil of rope lay at his feet. +He had knotted one end firmly round his body.</p> + +<p>"Listen, you fellows!" he cried. "I'm going to have a shot at it. Pay +out the rope as I go. Count up to five hundred, and if it is limp, pull +it in again. If it holds, make it fast! Got me?"</p> + +<p>He turned at once to a flight of iron steps that led off the wall down +into the awful, seething water. But someone, Fisher, sprang suddenly +after him and held him back. Charlie wheeled instantly. The light of a +lantern striking on his face revealed it, unafraid, even laughing.</p> + +<p>"You silly ass!" he cried. "Hang on to the rope instead of behaving like +a fellow's grandmother!"</p> + +<p>"You shan't do it!" Fisher said, holding him fast. "It is certain +death!"</p> + +<p>"All right," Charlie yelled back. "I choose death, then. I prefer it to +sitting still and seeing others die. My life is my own. I choose to risk +it."</p> + +<p>He looked at Fisher closely for a moment, then, with one immense effort, +he wrenched himself away. He went leaping down the steps as a boy going +for a summer-morning dip.</p> + +<p>Fisher turned round and met Bertie Richmond hurrying to help him.</p> + +<p>"Let him go!" Fisher said briefly.</p> + +<p>Thereafter came a terrible interval of waiting. The sky was clearing, +but the tempest did not abate. The rope ran out with jerks and pauses. +Fisher stood and counted at the head of the steps, his eyes on the +tumult that had swallowed up the slight active figure of the one man +among them all who had elected to risk his life against those +overwhelming odds.</p> + +<p>"He must be dashed to pieces!" Bertie Richmond gasped to himself, with a +shudder.</p> + +<p>The rope ceased to run. Fisher had counted four hundred and fifty. He +counted on resolutely to five hundred, then turned and raised his hand +to the men who held the coil. They hauled at the rope. It was limp. Hand +over hand they dragged it in through the foam. Fisher peered downwards. +It came so rapidly that he thought it must have parted among the rocks. +Then he saw a dark object bobbing strangely among the waves. He went +down the steps, that quivered and trembled like cardboard under his +feet.</p> + +<p>Clinging to the iron rail, he reached out a hand and guided the rope to +him. A great sea broke over him and nearly swept him off. He saved +himself by hanging with both hands on to the rope. Thus he was dragged +up the steps to safety, and behind him, buffeted, bleeding, helpless, +came two limp bodies lashed fast together.</p> + +<p>They cut the two asunder by the light of the lanterns, and one of them, +Charlie, staggered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I've got to go back!" he gasped. "You pulled too soon. There are two +others."</p> + +<p>He dashed the blood from his face, seized a pocket flask someone held +out to him, and drained it at a long gulp.</p> + +<p>"That's better!" he said. "That you, Fisher? Good-bye, old chap!"</p> + +<p>The first pale light of a rising moon burst suddenly through the cloud +drift.</p> + +<p>"I'll go myself," Fisher abruptly said.</p> + +<p>Even in that roar of sound they heard the boyish laugh that rang out +upon the words.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" shouted Charlie. "Bless you, dear fellow! But this is my +job—alone. You've got to stay behind—you're wanted."</p> + +<p>He stood a few seconds poising himself on the steps, drawing deep +breaths in preparation for the coming struggle. The moonlight smote upon +him. He lifted his face to it, and seemed to hesitate. Then suddenly he +turned to Fisher and laid impetuous hands upon his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Lookers-on see most of the game," he said. "And I've been one from the +first, though I own I thought at one time I should like to take a hand. +Go on and prosper, old boy! You've played a winning game all along, you +know. You're a better chap than I am, and it's you she really cares +for—always has been. That's how I came to know what I'd got to do. I +find it's easy—thank God!—it's very easy."</p> + +<p>And with that he plunged down again into the breakers. The tide was on +the turn. The worst fury was over. The awful darkness had lifted.</p> + +<p>Those who mutely watched him fancied they heard him laugh as he met the +crested waves.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_X'></a><h3>X</h3> + +<p>Molly had spent a night of feverish restlessness. It was with a feeling +of relief that she answered a tap that came at her door in the early +dusk of the January morning; but she gave a start of surprise when she +saw Mrs. Langdale enter.</p> + +<p>She started up on her elbow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is it? It has been a fearful night. Has something dreadful +happened?" she cried.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale's usually merry face was pale and quiet. She went quickly +to the girl's side and took her hands into a tight clasp.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, "Gerald Fisher asked me to come and tell you. There +has been a wreck in the night. A vessel ran on to the rocks. There were +three men on board. They could not reach them with an ordinary boat, and +the life-boat was not available."</p> + +<p>"Go on!" gasped Molly, her eyes on her friend's face.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale went on, with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Charlie Cleveland—dear fellow—went out to them with a rope. He +reached them, brought one safely back, returned for the +others—and—and—" Her voice failed. Her hands tightened upon Molly's; +they were very cold. "He managed to get to them again," she whispered, +"but—the rope wasn't long enough. He unlashed himself and bound them +together. They pulled them ashore—both living. But—he—was lost!"</p> + +<p>The composure suddenly forsook Mrs. Langdale's face. She hid it on +Molly's pillow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Molly, that darling boy!" she cried, with a burst of tears. "And +they say he went to his death—laughing."</p> + +<p>"He would," Molly said, in a strange voice. "I always knew he would."</p> + +<p>She lay back again. Her face was suddenly pinched and grey, but she felt +not the smallest desire to cry.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why!" she presently said. "How I wonder why!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale recovered herself with an effort. The frozen voice seemed +to give her strength.</p> + +<p>"Have we any right to ask that?" she whispered. "No one on this side can +ever know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think you are wrong," Molly said. "We can't be meant to grope in +outer darkness."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale whispered something about "those the gods love." She was +too broken-down herself to be able to offer any solid comfort.</p> + +<p>After a painful silence she got up and busied herself with reviving +Molly's fire, which had almost gone out. She felt as she had felt only +once before in her life, and that had been ten years previously, when +her only child had died suddenly. She wished passionately that she were +back in Calcutta with her husband. She hated the bleak English winter, +the cruel English seas.</p> + +<p>Molly lay quite still for some time, her young face drawn and stricken.</p> + +<p>At length she got up and went to the window. It was a morning of bleak +winds and shifting clouds. The sea was just visible, very far and dim +and grey. She stood a long while gazing stonily out.</p> + +<p>"Can I get you anything, darling?" said Mrs. Langdale's voice softly +behind her.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," the girl said, without turning. "Please leave me; +that's all!"</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Langdale crept away through the hushed house to her own +apartment, there to lay down her head and cry herself exhausted. Dear, +gallant Charlie! Her heart ached for him. His irrepressible gaiety, his +reckless generosity, these had become the attributes of a hero for ever +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>After a while her hostess came to her, pale and tearful, to beg her, if +she possibly could, to show herself at the breakfast table. Captain +Fisher had repeatedly asked for her, she said; and he seemed very +uneasy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale rose, washed her face, and made an effort to powder away +the evidence of her grief. Then she went bravely down and faced the +silent crowd in the breakfast room. No one was eating anything. The very +air smote chill and cheerless as she entered. As if he had been lying in +wait for her, Fisher pounced upon her on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"I must speak to you for a moment," he said. "Come into the +smoking-room!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale accompanied him without a word.</p> + +<p>"How is she?" he demanded, almost before they entered. "How did she take +it?"</p> + +<p>There was something about Fisher just then with which Mrs. Langdale was +wholly unacquainted. He was alert, impatient, almost feverish. She +answered him with brevity.</p> + +<p>"I think she is stunned by the news."</p> + +<p>He began to pace to and fro with heavy restlessness.</p> + +<p>"Ask her to come to me if she is up!" he said at length. "Tell her—tell +her not to be afraid! Say I am waiting for her. I must see her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale hesitated.</p> + +<p>"She asked me to leave her alone," she said irresolutely.</p> + +<p>Fisher wheeled swiftly round.</p> + +<p>"I don't think she will refuse to see me," he said. "At least try!"</p> + +<p>There was entreaty in his voice, urgent entreaty, which Mrs. Langdale +found herself unable to withstand.</p> + +<p>She departed therefore on her thankless errand and Fisher flung himself +down at the table with his face buried in his hands. In this room but a +few short hours ago Charlie had faced and turned away his anger with all +the courage and sweetness which, combined, had made of him the hero he +was.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Fisher, looking back upon the interview, that the boy had +done a braver thing, had offered a sacrifice more splendid, there, in +that room, than any he had done or offered a little later down on the +howling shore.</p> + +<p>There came a slight sound at the door and Fisher jerked himself upright. +Molly had entered softly. She was standing, looking at him with a +strange species of wonder on her white face. He rose instantly and went +to meet her.</p> + +<p>"I have something to give you, Molly," he said. She raised her eyes +questioningly.</p> + +<p>"It was brought to me," he said, controlling his voice to quietness with +a strong effort, "after Mrs. Langdale went to tell you of—what had +happened. I wish to give it to you myself. And—afterwards to ask you a +question."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Molly asked, with a sudden sharp eagerness.</p> + +<p>"A note," Fisher said, and gave her a folded paper. "It was found on his +dressing-table, addressed to you. His servant brought it to me."</p> + +<p>Molly's hand trembled as she took the missive.</p> + +<p>Fisher turned away from her, and stood before the window in dead +silence. There was a long, quiet pause. Then a sudden sound made him +swing swiftly round and stride to the door to turn the key. The next +moment he was stooping over Molly, who had sunk down on the hearth-rug +and was sobbing terrible, anguished sobs.</p> + +<p>He lifted her to a chair with no fuss of words, and knelt beside her, +stroking her hair, comforting her, with something of a woman's +tenderness.</p> + +<p>Molly suffered him passively, and the first wild agony of her trouble +spent itself unrestrained on his shoulder. Then she grew calmer, and +presently begged him in a whisper to read the message which Charlie had +left behind him.</p> + +<p>For a moment Fisher hesitated; then, as she repeated her desire, he took +up the scrawl and deliberately read it through. It had evidently been +written immediately after his interview with the writer.</p> + +<div class='blkquot'><p>"Dear Molly," the note said, "It's all right with Fisher, so + don't you worry yourself! I clear out to-morrow, so that there + may be no awkwardness, but we haven't quarrelled, he and I. + Forget all about this business! It's been a mistake from start + to finish. I ought to have known that I was only fit to be a + looker-on when I fell at the first fence. You put your money on + Fisher and you'll never lose a halfpenny! I'm nothing but a + humble spectator, and I wish you—and him also—the best of + luck. If I might be permitted, to offer a little, serious, + fatherly advice, it would be this:</p> + +<p> "Don't let yourself get dazzled by the outside shine of any + man's actions! A man isn't necessarily a hero because he + doesn't run away. It is the true-hearted, steady-going chaps + like Fisher who keep the world wagging. They are the solid + material. The others are only a sort of trimming stuck on for + effect and torn off when the time comes for something new. So + marry the man you love, Molly, and forget that anyone else ever + made a fool of himself for your sweet sake!</p> + +<p> "Your friend for ever,</p> + +<p> "Charlie."</p></div> + +<p>Thus ended, with a simplicity sublime, the few words of fatherly advice +which as a legacy this boy had left behind him.</p> + +<p>Fisher laid the note reverently aside and spoke with a great gentleness.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, dear," he said, "will it make it any easier for you if I go +away? If so—you have only to say so."</p> + +<p>The words cost him greater resolution than any he had ever uttered. Yet +he said them without apparent effort.</p> + +<p>Molly did not answer him for many seconds. Her head drooped a little +lower.</p> + +<p>"I have been—dazzled," she said at last, and there was a piteous quiver +in her voice. "I do not know if I shall ever make you understand."</p> + +<p>"You need never attempt it, Molly," he answered very steadily. "I make +no claim upon you. Simply, I am yours to keep or to throw away. Which +are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>He paused for her answer. But she made none. Only in her trouble it +seemed to him that she clung to his support.</p> + +<p>He drew her a little closer to him.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said very tenderly, "do you want me, child? Shall I stay?"</p> + +<p>And at length she answered him, realising that it was to this man, hero +or no hero, she had given her heart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, stay, Gerald!" she whispered earnestly. "I want you."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Perhaps he understood her better than she thought. Perhaps Charlie's +last words to him had taught him a wisdom to which he had not otherwise +attained. Or perhaps his love was large enough to cover and hide all +that might be lacking in that which she offered to him.</p> + +<p>But at least neither then nor later did he ever seek to know how deeply +the glamour of another man's heroism had pierced her heart. She tried to +whisper an explanation, but he hushed the words unuttered.</p> + +<p>"It is all right, child," he said. "I am satisfied. It is only the +lookers-on who are allowed to see all the cards. I think when we meet +him again he will tell us that we played them right."</p> + +<p>There was a deep quiver in his voice as he spoke, but there was no lack +of confidence in his words. Looking upwards, Molly saw that his eyes +were full of tears.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Second_Fiddle'></a><h2>THE SECOND FIDDLE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>A low whistle floated through the slumbrous silence and died softly away +among the sand-dunes.</p> + +<p>The man who sat in the little wooden summer-house that faced the sea +raised his head from his hand and stared outwards. The signal had +scarcely penetrated to his inner consciousness, but it had vaguely +disturbed his train of thought. His eyes were dull and emotionless as he +stared across the blue, smiling water to the long, straight line of the +horizon. They were heavy also as if he had not slept for weeks, and +there were deep lines about his clean-shaven mouth.</p> + +<p>Before him on the rough, wooden table lay a letter—a letter that he +knew by heart, yet carried always with him. The writing upon it was firm +and regular, but unmistakably a woman's. It began: "Dear Hugh," and it +ended: "Yours very sincerely," and it had been written to tell him that +because he was crippled for life the writer could no longer entertain +the idea of sharing hers with him.</p> + +<p>There had been a ring enclosed with the letter, but this he had not +kept. He had dropped it into the heart of a blazing fire on the day +that he had first been able to move without assistance. He had not done +it in anger. Simply the consciousness of possessing it had been a pain +intolerable to him. So he had destroyed it; but the letter he had kept +through all the dreary months that had followed that awful time. It was +all that was left to him of one whom he had loved passionately, blindly, +foolishly, and who had ceased to love him on the day, now nearly a year +ago, when his friends had ceased to call him by the nickname of +Hercules, that had been his from his boyhood.</p> + +<p>And this was her wedding-day—a day of entrancing sunshine, of magic +breezes, of perfect June.</p> + +<p>He was picturing her to himself as he sat there, just as he had pictured +her often—ah, often—in the old days.</p> + +<p>From his place near the altar he watched her coming towards him up the +great, white-decked church. Her eyes were shining with unclouded +happiness. Behind her bridal veil he caught a glimpse of the exquisite +beauty that chained his heart. Straight towards him the vision moved, +and he—he braced himself to meet it.</p> + +<p>A sharp pang of physical pain suddenly wrung his nerves, and in a moment +the vision had passed from his eyes. He groaned and once more covered +his face. Yes, it was her wedding-day. She was there before the altar in +all the splendour of her youth and her loveliness. But he was alone +with his suffering, his broken life, and the long, long, empty years +stretching away before him.</p> + +<p>He awoke to the soft splashing of the summer tide, out beyond the +sand-dunes, and he heard again the clear, low whistle which before had +disturbed his dream.</p> + +<p>He remained motionless, and a dim, detached wonder crossed his mind. He +had thought himself quite alone.</p> + +<p>Again the whistle sounded. It seemed to come from immediately below him. +Slowly and painfully he raised himself.</p> + +<p>The next instant an enormous Newfoundland dog rushed panting into his +retreat and proceeded to search every inch of the place with violent +haste. The man on the bench sat still and watched him, but when the +animal with a sudden, clumsy movement knocked his crutches on to the +floor and out of his reach, he uttered an exclamation of annoyance.</p> + +<p>The dog gave him a startled glance and continued his headlong +investigation. He was very wet, and he left a trail of sea water +wherever he went. Finally he bounded out as hurriedly as he had entered, +and Hugh Durant was left a prisoner, the nearest of his crutches a full +yard away.</p> + +<p>He sat and stared at them with a heavy frown. His helplessness always +oppressed him far more than the pain he had to endure. He cursed the dog +under his breath.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sorry!" a voice said suddenly some seconds later. "Let me get +them for you!"</p> + +<p>Durant looked round sharply. A brown-faced girl in a short, cotton dress +stood in the doorway. Her head was bare and covered with short, black, +curly hair that shone wet in the sunshine. Her eyes were very blue. For +some reason she looked rather ashamed of herself.</p> + +<p>She moved forward barefooted and picked up Durant's crutches.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir," she said again. "I didn't know there was any one here +till I heard Cæsar knock something down."</p> + +<p>She dusted the tops of the crutches with her sleeve and propped them +against the table.</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Durant curtly. He was not feeling sociable—he could not +feel sociable—on that day of all days in his life's record.</p> + +<p>Yet, as if attracted by something, the girl lingered.</p> + +<p>"It's lovely down on the shore," she said half shyly.</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Durant, and again his tone was curt to churlishness.</p> + +<p>Then abruptly he felt that he had been unnecessarily surly, and wondered +if he was getting querulous.</p> + +<p>"Been bathing?" he asked, with a brief glance at her wet hair.</p> + +<p>She gave him a quick, friendly smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she said; and added: "Cæsar and I."</p> + +<p>"Fond of the sea, eh?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>The soft eyes shone, and the man, who had been a sailor, told himself +that they were deep-sea eyes.</p> + +<p>"I love it," the girl said very earnestly.</p> + +<p>Her intensity surprised him a little. He had not expected it in one who, +to judge by her dress, must be a child of the humble fisher-folk. His +interest began to awaken.</p> + +<p>"You live near here?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She pointed a brown hand towards the sand-dunes.</p> + +<p>"On the shore, sir," she said. "We hear the waves all night."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Durant, and his voice was suddenly sharp with a pain he +could not try to silence. "All night and all day."</p> + +<p>She did not seem to notice his tone.</p> + +<p>"You live in the cottage on the cliff?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"I came last week," he said. "I hadn't seen the sea for nearly a year. I +wanted to be alone. And—so I am."</p> + +<p>"All alone?" she queried quickly.</p> + +<p>He nodded again.</p> + +<p>"With my servant," he said. He repeated with a certain doggedness: "I +wanted to be alone."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The girl was standing in the doorway. Her dog was +basking in the sunshine not a yard away. She looked at the cripple with +thoughtful eyes.</p> + +<p>"I live alone, too," she said. "That is—Cæsar and I."</p> + +<p>That successfully aroused Durant's curiosity.</p> + +<p>"You!" he said incredulously.</p> + +<p>She put up her hand with a quick movement and pushed the short curls +back from her forehead.</p> + +<p>"I am used to it," she said, with an odd womanly dignity. "I have been +practically alone all my life."</p> + +<p>Durant looked at her closely. She spoke in a very low voice, but there +were rich notes in it that caught his attention.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that very unusual for a girl of your age?" he said.</p> + +<p>She smiled again without answering. A blue sunbonnet dangled on her arm. +In the silence that followed she put it on. The great dog arose at the +action, stretched himself, and went to her side. She laid her hand on +his head.</p> + +<p>"We play hide-and-seek, Cæsar and I," she said, "among the dunes."</p> + +<p>Durant took his crutches and stumbled with difficulty to his feet. The +lower part of his body was terribly crippled and weak. Only the broad +shoulders of the man testified to the splendid strength that had once +been his, and could never be his again as long as he lived. He saw the +girl turn her head aside as he moved. The sunbonnet completely hid her +face. A sharp spasm of pain set his own like a stone mask.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she looked round.</p> + +<p>"Will you—will you come and see me some day?" she asked him shyly.</p> + +<p>Her tone was rather of request than invitation, and Durant was curiously +touched. He had a feeling that she awaited his reply with eagerness.</p> + +<p>He smiled for the first time.</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," he said courteously, "if the path is easy and the +distance not too great for my powers."</p> + +<p>"It is quite close," she said readily, "hardly a stone's throw from +here—a little wooden cottage—the first you come to."</p> + +<p>"And you live quite alone?" Durant said.</p> + +<p>"I like it best," she assured him.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me your name?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"My name is Molly," she answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else?" said Durant with a puzzled frown.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else, sir," she said, with her air of womanly dignity.</p> + +<p>He made no outward comment, but inwardly he wondered. Was this odd +little, dark-haired creature some nameless waif of the sea brought up on +the charity of the fisher-folk, he asked himself.</p> + +<p>She stood aside for him to pass, drawing Cæsar out of his way. He +stopped a moment to pat the dog's head. And so standing, leaning upon +his crutches, he suddenly and keenly looked into the olive-tinted face +that the sunbonnet shadowed.</p> + +<p>"Sorry for me, eh?" he said, and he uttered a laugh that was short and +very bitter.</p> + +<p>She bent down over the dog.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am sorry," she said, almost under her breath.</p> + +<p>Bending lower, she picked up something that lay on the ground between +them.</p> + +<p>"You dropped this," she said.</p> + +<p>He took it from her with a grim hardening of the mouth. It was the +letter he had received from his <i>fiancée</i> a year ago. But his eyes never +left the face of the girl before him.</p> + +<p>"I wonder—" he said abruptly, and stopped.</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The girl waited, her hand nervously caressing the +Newfoundland's curls. She did not raise her eyes, but the lids fluttered +strangely.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," Durant said, and his voice was suddenly kind, "if I might +ask you to do something for me."</p> + +<p>She gave him a swift glance.</p> + +<p>"Please do!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"This letter," he said, and he held it out to her.</p> + +<p>"I should like it torn up—very small."</p> + +<p>She took the envelope and hesitated. Durant was watching her. There was +unmistakable mastery in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he said briefly.</p> + +<p>And with a quick, startled movement, she obeyed. The letter fluttered +around them both in tiny fragments. Hugh Durant looked on with a hard, +impassive face, as he might have looked on at an execution.</p> + +<p>The girl's hands were shaking. She glanced at him once or twice +uncertainly.</p> + +<p>When the work of destruction was accomplished she made him a nervous +curtsey and turned to go.</p> + +<p>Durant's face softened a second time into a smile.</p> + +<p>"Thank you—Molly," he said, and he put his hand to his hat though she +was not looking at him.</p> + +<p>And afterwards he stood among the fragments of his letter and watched +till both the girl and the dog were out of sight.</p> + +<p>Twenty-four hours later Hugh Durant stood on the sandy shore and tapped +with his crutch on the large, flat stone that was set for a step on the +threshold of the little, wooden cottage behind the sand dunes.</p> + +<p>He had reached the place with much difficulty, persevering with a +doggedness characteristic of him; and there were great drops on his +forehead though the afternoon was cloudy and cool.</p> + +<p>A quick step sounded in answer to his summons, and in a moment his +hostess appeared at the open door.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you come straight in?" she said hospitably.</p> + +<p>She was dressed in lilac print. Her sleeves were turned up to the +elbows, and she wore a big apron with a bib. He noticed that her feet +were no longer bare.</p> + +<p>He took off his hat as he answered.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I might have been tempted to do so," he said, "if I had felt +equal to mounting the step without assistance."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" She pulled down her sleeves hastily. "Will you let me help you?" +she suggested shyly.</p> + +<p>Durant's eyes were slightly drawn with pain. Nevertheless they were very +friendly as he made reply.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you can?" he said.</p> + +<p>She took his hat from him with an anxious smile, and then the crutch +that he held towards her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me exactly what to do!" she said in her sweet, low voice. "I am +very strong."</p> + +<p>"If I may put my arm on your shoulder," Durant said, "I think it can be +managed. But say at once if it is too much for you!"</p> + +<p>Her face was deeply flushed as she bent from the step to give him the +help he needed.</p> + +<p>"Bear harder!" she said, as he leant his weight upon her. "Bear much +harder!"</p> + +<p>There was an odd little quiver in her voice, but, slight as she was, she +supported him with sturdy strength.</p> + +<p>The door opened straight into the tiny cottage parlour. A large wicker +chair, well cushioned, stood in readiness. As Durant lowered himself +into it, he saw that the girl's eyes were brimming with tears.</p> + +<p>"I've hurt you!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she said, and turned quickly away. "You didn't bear nearly +hard enough."</p> + +<p>He laughed a little, though his teeth were clenched.</p> + +<p>"You're a very strong woman, Molly," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am," she answered instantly. "Now shall you be all right while I +go to fetch tea?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said. "Pray don't make a stranger of me!"</p> + +<p>She disappeared into the room at the back of the cottage, and he was +left alone. The great dog came in with stately stride and lay down at +his feet.</p> + +<p>Durant sat and looked about him. There was little to attract the eye in +the simple furnishing of the tiny room. There was a small bookcase in +one corner, but it was covered by a red curtain. Two old-fashioned Dutch +figures stood on the mantelpiece on each side of a cheap little clock +that seemed to tick at him almost resentfully. The walls were tinted +green and bore no pictures or decoration of any sort. There was a plain +white tablecloth on the table, and in the middle stood a handleless jug +filled with pink and white wild roses, freshly gathered. There was no +carpet. The floor was strewn with beach sand.</p> + +<p>All these details Durant took in with keen interest. Nothing could have +exceeded the simplicity of this dwelling by the sea. There had obviously +been no attempt at artistic arrangement. Cleanliness and a neatness +almost severe were its only characteristics.</p> + +<p>"I hope you like toasted scones, sir," said Molly's voice in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>He looked round to see her come forward with the tea-tray.</p> + +<p>"Nothing better," he said lightly, "particularly if you have made them +yourself."</p> + +<p>She set down her tray and smiled at him. Her short, curling hair gave +her an almost elfish look.</p> + +<p>"I've been so busy getting ready," she said childishly. "I've never had +a gentleman to tea before."</p> + +<p>"That is a very great honour for me," said Durant.</p> + +<p>Molly looked delighted.</p> + +<p>"I think the honour is mine," she said in her shy voice. "I am just +going to fetch the wooden chair out of the kitchen."</p> + +<p>She departed hastily as if embarrassed, and Durant smiled to himself. It +was wonderful how the oppression had been lifted from his spirit since +his meeting with this lonely dweller on the shore.</p> + +<p>When Molly reappeared, he saw that she had assumed a dignity worthy of +the occasion. She sat down behind the brown teapot with a serious face. +He waited for her to lead the conversation, and the result was complete +silence for some seconds.</p> + +<p>Then she said suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Have you been sitting in the summer-house again?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Durant.</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," said Molly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it rather a lonely place?" she said.</p> + +<p>He smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>"You know I came here to be lonely, Molly," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; you told me," said Molly, and he fancied that he heard her sigh.</p> + +<p>"Are you never lonely?" he asked in a kindly tone.</p> + +<p>"Often," she said. "Often."</p> + +<p>She was pouring the tea as she spoke. Her head was slightly bent.</p> + +<p>"And so you took pity on me?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>She shook her head suddenly and vigorously.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't that, sir," she said in a very low voice. "I—I +wanted—someone—to speak to."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Durant gently. He added after a moment: "Do you know, I am +glad I chanced to be that someone."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him over the teapot.</p> + +<p>"You weren't pleased—at first," she said. "You were angry. I heard you +saying—"</p> + +<p>"What?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>He looked across at her and laughed naturally, spontaneously, for the +first time.</p> + +<p>Molly had forgotten to be either embarrassed or dignified.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what it was," she said; "I only know what it sounded +like."</p> + +<p>"And that made you want to speak to me?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>The brown face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that +there was sadness in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"It didn't frighten me away," she said.</p> + +<p>"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now," +said Hugh Durant quietly.</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest. +Then, changing her mind, she remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. "Please say it!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head without speaking.</p> + +<p>But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side, +looking down at him.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically.</p> + +<p>He laughed rather drearily.</p> + +<p>"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said.</p> + +<p>And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly +turned the conversation.</p> + +<p>Later, when he took his leave, he stood on her step and looked out to +the long, grey line of sea with a faint, dissatisfied frown on his face.</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid—living here?" he asked her at the last moment.</p> + +<p>"What is there to fear?" said Molly. "I have Cæsar, and there are other +cottages not far away."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," he said. "But at night—when it's dark—"</p> + +<p>A sudden glory shone in the girl's pure eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir," she said. "I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>And he departed, hobbling with difficulty up the long, sandy slope.</p> + +<p>At the top he paused and looked out over the grey, unquiet sea. The +dissatisfaction on his face had given place to perplexity and a faint, +dawning wonder that was like the birth of Hope.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>During the long summer days that followed, that strange friendship, +begun at the moment when Hugh Durant's life had touched its lowest point +of suffering and misery, ripened into a curiously close intimacy.</p> + +<p>The girl was his only visitor—the only friend who penetrated behind the +barrier of loneliness that he had erected for himself. He had sought the +place sick at heart and utterly weary of life, desiring only to be left +alone. And yet, oddly enough, he did not resent the intrusion of this +outsider, who had openly told him that she was sorry.</p> + +<p>She visited him occasionally at his hermitage, but more frequently she +would seek him out in his summer-house and take possession of him there +with a winning enchantment that he made no effort to resist. Sometimes +she brought him tea there; sometimes she persuaded him to return with +her to her cottage on the shore.</p> + +<p>The embarrassment had wholly passed from her manner. She was eager and +ingenuous as a child. And yet there was something in her—a depth of +feeling, a concentration half-revealed—that made him aware of her +womanhood. She was never confidential with him, but yet he felt her +confidence in every word she uttered.</p> + +<p>And the life that had ebbed so low turned in the man's veins and began +to flow with a steady, rising surge of which he was only vaguely +conscious.</p> + +<p>Molly had become his keenest interest. He had ceased to think with +actual pain of the woman who had loved his strength, but had shrunk in +horror from his weakness. His bitterness had seemed to disperse with the +fragments of her torn letter. It was only a memory to him now—scarcely +even that.</p> + +<p>"This place has done me a lot of good," he said to Molly one day. "I +have written to my friend Gregory Mountfort to come and see me. He is my +doctor."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him quickly. She was sitting on her doorstep and the +August sunlight was on her hair. There were wonderful glints of gold +among the dark curls.</p> + +<p>"Shall you go away, then?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I may—soon," he said.</p> + +<p>She was silent, bending over some work that she had taken up. The man +looked down at the bowed head. The old look of perplexity, of wonder, +was in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What shall you do?" he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>She made a startled movement, but did not raise her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I shall just—go on," she said, in a voice that was hardly audible.</p> + +<p>"Not here," he said. "You will be lonely."</p> + +<p>There was an unusual note of mastery in his voice. She glanced up, and +met his eyes resolutely for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I am used to loneliness," she said slowly.</p> + +<p>"But you don't prefer it?" he said.</p> + +<p>She bent her head again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I prefer it," she said.</p> + +<p>There followed a pause. Then abruptly Durant asked a question.</p> + +<p>"Are you still sorry for me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"No," said Molly.</p> + +<p>He bent slightly towards her. Movement had become much easier to him of +late.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said very gently, "that is the kindest thing you have ever +said."</p> + +<p>She laughed in a queer, shaky note over her work.</p> + +<p>He bent nearer.</p> + +<p>"You have done a tremendous lot for me," he said, speaking very softly. +"I wonder if I dare ask of you—one thing more?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer. He put his hand on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said, "will you marry me?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Molly under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "Forgive me for asking!"</p> + +<p>She looked up at him then with that in her eyes which he could not +understand.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Durant," she said, steadily, "I thank you very much, and it +isn't—that. But I can only be your friend."</p> + +<p>"Never anything more, Molly?" he said, and he smiled at her, very +gently, very kindly, but without tenderness.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Molly said in the same steady tone. "Never anything more."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well," said Gregory Mountfort on the following day, "this place has +done wonders for you, Hugh. You're a different man."</p> + +<p>"I believe I am," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>He spoke with his eyes upon a bouquet of poppies and corn that had been +left at his door without any message early that morning. It was eloquent +to him of a friendship that did not mean to be lightly extinguished, but +his heart was heavy notwithstanding. He had begun to desire something +greater than friendship.</p> + +<p>"Physically," said Mountfort, "you are stronger than I ever expected to +see you again. You don't suffer much pain now, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not much," said Durant.</p> + +<p>He turned to stare out of his open window at the sunlit sea. His eyes +were full of weariness.</p> + +<p>"Look here," the doctor said. "You're not an invalid any longer. I +should leave this place if I were you. Go abroad! Go round the world! +Don't stagnate any longer! It isn't worthy of you."</p> + +<p>Hugh Durant shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It's no good trying to float a stranded hulk, dear fellow," he said. +"Don't attempt it! I am better off where I am."</p> + +<p>"You ought to get married," his friend returned brusquely. "You weren't +created for the lonely life."</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry," Durant said quietly.</p> + +<p>And Mountfort was disappointed. He wondered if he were still vexing his +soul over the irrevocable.</p> + +<p>He had motored down from town, and in the afternoon he carried his +patient off for a thirty-mile spin. They went through the depths of the +country, through tiny villages hidden among the hills, through long +stretches of pine woods, over heather-covered uplands. But though it did +him good, Durant was conscious of keenest pleasure when, returning, they +ran into view of the sea. He felt that the shore and the sand-dunes were +his own peculiar heritage.</p> + +<p>Mountfort steered for the village scattered over the top of the cliff. +Durant had persuaded him to remain for the night, and he had to send a +telegram. They puffed up a steep, winding hill to the post-office, and +the doctor got out.</p> + +<p>"Back in thirty seconds," he said, as he walked away.</p> + +<p>Hugh was in no hurry. It was a wonderfully calm evening. The sea looked +like a sheet of silver, motionless, silent, immense. The tide was very +low. The sand-dunes looked mere hummocks from that great height. Myriads +of martens were circling about the edge of the cliff, which was +protected by a crazy wooden railing. He sat and watched them without +much interest. He was thinking chiefly of that one cottage on the shore +a hundred feet below, which he knew so well.</p> + +<p>He wondered if Molly had been to the summer-house to look for him; and +then, chancing to glance up, he caught sight of her coming towards him +from the roadside. At the same instant something jerked in the motor, +and it began to move. It was facing up the hill, and the angle was a +steep one. Very slowly at first the wheels revolved, and the car moved +straight backwards as if pushed by an unseen hand.</p> + +<p>Hugh realised the danger in a moment. The road curved sharply not a +dozen yards behind him, and at that curve was the sheer precipice of the +cliff. He was powerless to apply the brakes, and he could not even throw +himself out. The sudden consciousness of this ran through him piercing +as a sword-blade.</p> + +<p>In every pulse of his being he felt the intense, the paralysing horror +of violent death. For the first awful moment he could not even call for +help. The sensation of falling headlong backwards gripped his throat +and choked his utterance.</p> + +<p>He made a wild, ineffectual movement with his hands. And then he heard a +loud cry. A woman's figure flashed towards him. She seemed to swoop as +the martens swooped along the face of the cliff. The car was running +smoothly towards that awful edge. He felt that it was very +near—horribly near; but he could not turn to look.</p> + +<p>Even as the thought darted through his brain he saw Molly, wide-eyed, +frenzied, clinging to the side of the car. She was in the act of +springing on to it, and that knowledge loosened his tongue.</p> + +<p>He yelled to her hoarsely to keep away. He even tried to thrust her +hands off the woodwork. But she withstood him fiercely, with a strength +that agonised and overcame. In a second she was on the step, where she +swayed perilously, then fell forward on her hands and knees at his feet.</p> + +<p>The car continued to run back. There came a sudden jerk, a crash of +rending wood, a frightful pause. The railing had splintered. They were +on the brink. Hugh bent and tried to take her in his arms.</p> + +<p>He was strung to meet that awful plunge; he was face to face with death; +but—was it by some miracle?—the car was stayed. There, on the very +edge of destruction, with not an inch to spare, it stood suddenly +motionless, as if checked by some mysterious, unseen force.</p> + +<p>As complete understanding returned to him, Hugh saw that the woman at +his feet had thrown herself upon the foot brake and was holding it +pressed down with both her rigid hands.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Yes; but who taught her where to look for the brake?" said Mountfort +two hours later.</p> + +<p>The excitement was over, but the subject fascinated Mountfort. The girl +had sprung away and disappeared down one of the cliff paths directly +Hugh had been extricated from danger. Mountfort was curious about her, +but Hugh was uncommunicative. He had no answer ready to Mountfort's +question. He scarcely seemed to hear it.</p> + +<p>Barely a minute after its utterance he reached for his crutches and got +upon his feet.</p> + +<p>"I am going down to the shore," he said. "I shan't sleep otherwise. +You'll excuse me, old fellow?"</p> + +<p>Mountfort looked at him and nodded. He was very intimate with Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind me!" he said.</p> + +<p>And Hugh went out alone in the summer dusk.</p> + +<p>The night was almost ghostly in its stillness. He went down the winding +path that he knew so well without a halt. Far away the light of a +steamer travelled over the quiet water. The sea murmured drowsily as the +tide rose. It was not quite dark.</p> + +<p>Outside her cottage-door he stopped and tapped upon the stone. The door +stood open, and as he waited he heard a clear, low whistle behind him on +the dunes. She was coming towards him, the great dog Cæsar bounding by +her side. As she drew near he noticed again how slight she was, and +marvelled at her strength.</p> + +<p>She reached him in silence. The light was very dim. He put out his hand +to her, but somehow he could not utter a word.</p> + +<p>"I knew it must be you," she said. "I—I was waiting for you."</p> + +<p>She put her hand into his; but still the man stood mute. No words would +come to him.</p> + +<p>She looked at him uncertainly, almost nervously. Then—</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked, under her breath.</p> + +<p>He spoke at last but not to utter the words she expected.</p> + +<p>"I haven't come to say, 'Thank you,' Molly," he said. "I have come to +ask why."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Molly.</p> + +<p>She was startled, confused, almost scared, by the mastery that underlay +the gentleness of his tone. He kept her hand in his, standing there, +facing her in the dimness; and, cripple as he was, she knew him for a +strong man.</p> + +<p>"I have come to ask," he said—"and I mean to know—why yesterday you +refused to marry me."</p> + +<p>She made a quick movement. His words astounded her. She felt inclined to +run away. But he kept her prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid of me, Molly!" he said half sadly. "You had a reason. +What was it."</p> + +<p>She bit her lip. Her eyes were full of sudden tears.</p> + +<p>"Tell me!" he said.</p> + +<p>And she answered, as if he compelled her:</p> + +<p>"It was because—because you don't love me," she said with difficulty.</p> + +<p>She felt his hand tighten upon hers.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "And that was—the only reason?"</p> + +<p>Molly was trembling.</p> + +<p>"It was the only reason that mattered," she said in a choked voice.</p> + +<p>He leant towards her in the dusk.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said. "Molly, I worship you!"</p> + +<p>She heard the deep quiver in his voice, and it thrilled her from head to +foot. She began to sob, and he drew her towards him.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" she said, "Oh, wait! Come inside, and I'll tell you!"</p> + +<p>He went in with her, leaning on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Sit down!" whispered Molly. "I'm going to tell you something."</p> + +<p>"Don't cry!" he said gently. "It may be something I know already."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it isn't!" she said with conviction.</p> + +<p>She stood before him in the twilight, her hands clasped tightly +together.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember a girl called Mary Fielding?" she said, with a piteous +effort to control her voice. "She used to be the friend of—of—your +<i>fiancée</i>, Lady Maud Belville, long ago, before you had your accident."</p> + +<p>He nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"I remember her," he said.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose you ever noticed her much," the girl continued shakily. +"She was uninteresting, and always in the background."</p> + +<p>"I should know her anywhere," said Durant with confidence.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she protested. "I'm sure you wouldn't. You—you never gave her +a second thought, though she—was foolish enough—idiotic enough—to—to +care whether you did or not."</p> + +<p>"Was she?" he said softly. "Was she? And was that why she came to live +among the sand-dunes and cut off her hair and wore print +dresses—and—and made life taste sweet to me again?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! You know now!" she said, with a sound that was like laughter +through tears.</p> + +<p>He held out his arms to her.</p> + +<p>"My darling," he said. "I knew on the first day I saw you here."</p> + +<p>She knelt down beside him with a quick, impulsive movement.</p> + +<p>"You—knew!" she gasped incredulously.</p> + +<p>He smiled at her with great tenderness.</p> + +<p>"I knew," he said, "and I wondered—how I wondered—what you had come +for!"</p> + +<p>"I only came to be a friend," she broke in hastily, "to—to try to help +you through your bad time."</p> + +<p>"I guessed it must be that," he said softly over her bowed head, "when +you said 'No' to me yesterday."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't tell me you cared," protested Molly.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "I was so horribly afraid that you might take me out of +pity, Molly."</p> + +<p>"And I—I wasn't going to be second fiddle!" said Molly waywardly.</p> + +<p>She resisted him a little as he turned her face upwards, but he had his +way. There was a quiver of laughter in his voice when he spoke again.</p> + +<p>"You could never be that," he said. "You were made to lead the +orchestra. Still, tell me why you did it, darling! Make me understand!"</p> + +<p>And Molly yielded at length with her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"I loved you!" she said passionately. "I loved you!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Woman_of_His_Dream'></a><h2>THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='5%' summary="TOC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right:auto;"><tr> +<td><a href='#Dream_P'>Prologue</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_I'>I</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_II'>II</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_III'>III</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_IV'>IV</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_V'>V</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_VI'>VI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_VII'>VII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_VIII'>VIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_IX'>IX</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_X'>X</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_XI'>XI</a></td> +</tr></table> + +<a name='Dream_P'></a><h3>PROLOGUE</h3> + +<p>It was growing very dark. The decks gleamed wet in the light of the +swinging lamps. The wind howled across the sea like a monster in +torment. It would be a fearful night.</p> + +<p>The man who stood clutching at the slanting deck rail was drenched from +head to foot, but, despite this fact, he had no thought of going below. +Reginald Carey had been for many voyages on many seas, but the +fascination of a storm in the bay attracted him irresistibly still. He +had no sympathy with the uneasy crowd in the saloons. He even exulted in +the wild tumult of wind and sea and blinding rain. He was as one +spellbound in the grip of the tempest.</p> + +<p>Curt and dry of speech, abrupt at times almost to rudeness, he was a man +of whom most people stood in awe, and with whom very few were on terms +of intimacy. Yet in the world of men he had made his mark.</p> + +<p>By camp-fires and on the march, in prison and in hospital, Carey the +journalist had become a byword for coolness and endurance. It was +Carey, caustic of humour, uncompromising of attitude, who sauntered +through a hail of bullets to fill a wounded man's water-tin; Carey who +pushed his way among stampeding mules to rescue sorely needed medical +stores; Carey who had limped beside footsore, jaded men, and whistled +them out of their depression.</p> + +<p>There were two fingers missing from Carey's left hand, and the limp had +become permanent when he sailed home from South Africa at the end of the +war, but he was the personal friend of half the army though there was +not a single man who could boast that he knew him thoroughly well. For +none knew exactly what this man, who scoffed so freely at disaster, +carried in his heart.</p> + +<p>As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel, gazing steadfastly into +the howling darkness, his face was as serene as if he sailed a summer +sea. The great waves that dashed their foam over him as he stood were +powerless to raise fear in his soul! He stood as one apart—a lonely +watcher whom no danger could appal.</p> + +<p>It was growing late, but he took no count of time. More than once he had +been hoarsely advised to go below, but he would not go. He believed +himself to be the only passenger on deck, and he clung to his solitude. +The bare thought of the stuffy saloon was abhorrent to him. He marvelled +that no one else had developed the same distaste.</p> + +<p>And with the thought he turned, breathless from the buffeting spray of a +mighty wave, to find a woman standing near him on the swirling deck.</p> + +<p>She stood poised lightly as a bird prepared for flight, her head bare, +her face upturned to the storm. Her hands were fast gripped upon the +rail, and the gleam of a gold ring caught Carey's eye. He saw that she +was unconscious of his presence. The shifting, uncertain light had not +revealed him. For a space he stood watching her, unperceived, wondering +at the courage that upheld her. Her hair had blown loose in the wind, +and lay in a black mass upon her neck. He could not see her features, +but her bearing was superb.</p> + +<p>And then at length, as if his quiet scrutiny had somehow touched in her +a responsive chord, she turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and +a curious thrill ran tingling through the man's veins. He had never seen +this woman before, but as she looked at him, with wonderful dark eyes +that seemed to hold a passionate exultation in their depths, he suddenly +felt as if he had known her all his life. They were comrades. It was no +hysterical panic that had driven her up from below. Like himself, she +had been drawn by the magic of the storm.</p> + +<p>Impulsively, almost involuntarily, he moved a pace towards her and +stretched out a hand along the dripping rail.</p> + +<p>She gave him her own instantly and confidently, responding to his +action with absolute simplicity. It was a gesture of sympathy, of +fellowship. She bore herself as a queen, but she did not condescend to +him.</p> + +<p>No words passed between them. Both realised the impossibility of speech +in that shrieking tempest. Moreover, there was no need for speech. +Earth's petty conventions had fallen away from them. They were as +children standing hand in hand on the edge of the unknown, hearing the +same thunderous music, bound by the same magic spell.</p> + +<p>Carey wondered later how long a time elapsed whilst they stood thus, +intently watching. It might have been for merely a few minutes, or it +might have been for the greater part of an hour. He never knew.</p> + +<p>The spell broke at length suddenly and terribly, with a grinding crash +that flung them both sideways upon the slippery deck. He went down, +still clinging instinctively to the rail, and the next instant, by its +aid, he was on his feet again, dragging his companion up with him.</p> + +<p>There followed a pause—a shuddering, expectant pause—while wind and +sea raged all around them like beasts of prey. And through it there came +the sound of the engine throbbing impotently spasmodically, like the +heart of a dying man. Quite suddenly it ceased, and there was a +frightful uproar of escaping steam. The deck on which they stood began +to tilt slowly upwards.</p> + +<p>Carey knew what had happened. They had struck a rock in that awful +darkness, and they were going down with frightful rapidity into the +seething, storm-tossed water.</p> + +<p>He had never been shipwrecked before, but, as by instinct, he realised +the madness of remaining where he was. A coil of rope lay almost at his +feet, and he stooped and seized it. There had come a brief lull in the +storm, but he knew that there was not a moment to spare. Still +supporting his companion, he began to bind the rope around them both.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him quickly, and he saw her lips move in protest. She +even set her hands against his breast, as if to resist him. But he +overcame her almost savagely. It was no moment for argument.</p> + +<p>The slope of the deck was becoming every instant more acute. The wind +was racing back across the sea. Above them—very far above them, it +seemed—there was a confusion of figures, but the tumult of wind and +waves drowned all other sound. Carey's feet began to slip on that awful +slant. They were sinking rapidly, rapidly.</p> + +<p>He knotted the rope and gathered himself together. An instant he hung on +the rail, breathing deeply. Then with a jerk he relaxed his grip and +leaped blindly into the howling darkness, hurling himself and the woman +with him far into the raging sea.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was suffocatingly hot. Carey raised his arms with a desperate +movement. He felt as if he were swimming in hot vapour. And he had been +swimming for a long time, too. He was deadly tired. A light flashed in +his eyes, and very far above him—like an object viewed through the +small end of a telescope—he saw a face. Vaguely he heard a voice +speaking, but what it said was beyond his comprehension. It seemed to +utter unintelligible things. For a while he laboured to understand, then +the effort became too much for him. The light faded from his brain.</p> + +<p>Later—much later, it seemed—he awoke to full consciousness, to find +himself in a Breton fisherman's cottage, watched over by a kindly little +French doctor who tended him as though he had been his brother.</p> + +<p>"<i>Monsieur</i> is better, but much better," he was cheerily assured. "And +for <i>madame</i> his wife he need have no inquietude. She is safe and well, +and only concerns herself for <i>monsieur</i>."</p> + +<p>This was reassuring, and Carey accepted it without comment or inquiry. +He knew that there was a misunderstanding somewhere, but he was still +too exhausted to trouble himself about so slight a matter. He thanked +his kindly informant, and again he slept.</p> + +<p>Two days later his interest in life revived. He began to ask questions, +and received from the doctor a full account of what had occurred.</p> + +<p>He had been washed ashore, he was told—he and <i>madame</i> his +wife—lashed fast together. The ship had been wrecked within half a mile +of the land. But the seas had been terrific. There had not been many +survivors.</p> + +<p>Carey digested the news in silence. He had had no friends on board, +having embarked only at Gibraltar.</p> + +<p>At length he looked up with a faint smile at his faithful attendant. +"And where is—<i>madame</i>?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The little doctor hesitated, and spread out his hands deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>monsieur</i>, I regret—I much regret—to have to inform you that she +is already departed for Paris. Her solicitude for you was great, was +pathetic. The first words she speak were: 'My husband, do not let him +know!' as though she feared that you would be distressed for her. And +then she recover quick, quick, and say that she must go—that <i>monsieur</i> +when he know, will understand. And so she depart early in the morning of +yesterday while <i>monsieur</i> is still asleep."</p> + +<p>He was watching Carey with obvious anxiety as he ended, but the +Englishman's face expressed nothing but a somewhat elaborate +indifference.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said, and relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>He made no further reference to the matter, and the doctor discreetly +abstained from asking questions. He presently showed him an English +paper which contained the information that Mr. and Mrs. Carey were among +the rescued.</p> + +<p>"That," he remarked, "will alleviate the anxiety of your friends."</p> + +<p>To which Carey responded, with a curt laugh: "No one knew that we were +on board."</p> + +<p>He left for Paris on the following day, allowing the doctor to infer +that he was on his way to join his wife.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_I'></a><h3>I</h3> + +<p>It was growing dark in the empty class-room, but there was nothing left +to do, and the French mistress, sitting alone at her high desk, made no +move to turn on the light. All the lesson books were packed away out of +sight. There was not so much as a stray pencil trespassing upon that +desert of orderliness. Only the waste-paper basket, standing behind +<i>Mademoiselle</i> Trèves's chair, gave evidence of the tempest of energy +that had preceded this empty calm in the midst of which she sat alone. +It was crammed to overflowing with torn exercise books, and all manner +of schoolgirls' rubbish, and now and then it creaked eerily in the +desolate silence as though at the touch of an invisible hand.</p> + +<p>It was very cold in the great room, for the fire had gone out long ago. +There was no one left to enjoy it except <i>mademoiselle</i>, who apparently +did not count. For most of the pupils had departed in the morning, and +those who were left were collected in the great hall speeding one after +another upon their homeward way. All day the wheels of cabs had crunched +the gravel below the class-room window, but they were not so audible +now, for the ground was thickly covered with snow, which had been +drearily falling throughout the afternoon.</p> + +<p>It lay piled upon the window-sill, casting a ghostly light into the +darkening room, vaguely outlining the slender figure that sat so still +before the high desk.</p> + +<p>Another cab-load of laughing girls was just passing out at the gate. +There could not be many left. The darkness increased, and <i>mademoiselle</i> +drew a quick breath and shivered. She wished the departures were all +over.</p> + +<p>There came a light step in the passage, and a daring whistle, which +broke off short as a hand impetuously opened the class-room door.</p> + +<p>"Why, <i>mademoiselle!</i>" cried a fresh young voice. "Why, <i>chérie!</i>" Warm +arms encircled the lonely figure, and eager lips pressed the cold face. +"Oh, <i>chérie</i>, don't grizzle!" besought the newcomer. "Why, I've never +known you do such a thing before. Have you been here all this time? I've +been looking for you all over the place. I couldn't leave without one +more good-bye. And see here, <i>chérie</i>, you must—you must—come to my +birthday-party on New Year's Eve. If you won't come and stay with me, +which I do think you might, you must come down for that one night. It's +no distance, you know. And it's only a children's show. There won't be +any grown-ups except my cousin Reggie, who is the sweetest man in the +world, and Mummy's Admiral who comes next. Say you will, <i>chérie</i>, for I +shall be sixteen—just think of it!—and I do want you to be there. You +will, won't you? Come, promise!"</p> + +<p>It was hard to refuse this petitioner, so warmly fascinating was she. +<i>Mademoiselle</i>, who, it was well known, never accepted any invitations, +hesitated for the first time—and was lost.</p> + +<p>"If I came just for that one evening then, Gwen, you would not press me +to stay longer?"</p> + +<p>"Bless you, no!" declared Gwen. "I'll drive you to the station myself in +Mummy's car to catch the first train next morning, if you'll come. And +I'll make Reggie come too. You'll just love Reggie, <i>chérie</i>. He's my +exact ideal of what a man ought to be—the best friend I have, next to +you. Well, it's a bargain then, isn't it? You'll come and help dance +with the kids—you promise? That's my own sweet <i>chérie</i>! And now you +mustn't grizzle here in the dark any longer. I believe my cab is at the +door. Come down and see me off, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Yet again she was irresistible. They went out together, hand in hand, +happy child and lonely woman, and the door of the deserted class-room +banged with a desolate echoing behind them.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_II'></a><h3>II</h3> + +<p>It was ten days later, on a foggy evening, in the end of the year, that +Reginald Carey alighted at a small wayside station, and grimly prepared +himself for a five-mile trudge through dark and muddy lanes to his +destination.</p> + +<p>The only conveyance in the station yard was a private motor car, and his +first glance at this convinced him that it was not there to await him. +He paused under the lamp outside to turn up his collar, and, as he did +so, a man of gigantic breadth and stature, wearing goggles, came out of +the station behind him and strode past. He glanced at Carey casually as +he went by, looked again, then suddenly stopped and peered at him.</p> + +<p>"Great Scotland!" he exclaimed abruptly. "I know you—or ought to. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein. +Thought there was something familiar about you the moment I saw you. You +remember me, eh?"</p> + +<p>He turned back his goggles impetuously, and showed Carey his face.</p> + +<p>Yes; Carey remembered him very well indeed, though he was not sure that +the acquaintance was one he desired to improve. He took the proffered +hand with a certain reserve.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I remember you. I don't think I ever heard your name, but that's a +detail. You came out of it all right, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; more or less. Nothing ever hurts me." The big man's laugh had +in it a touch of bitterness. "Where are you bound for? Come along with +me in the car; I'll take you where you want to go." He seized Carey by +the shoulder, impelling him with boisterous cordiality towards the +vehicle. "Jump in, my friend. My name is Coningsby—Major Coningsby, of +Crooklands Manor—mad Coningsby I'm called about here, because I happen +to ride straighter to hounds than most of 'em. A bit of a compliment, +eh? But they're a shocking set of muffs in these parts. You don't live +here?"</p> + +<p>"No; I am down on a visit to my cousin, Lady Emberdale. She lives at +Crooklands Mead. I've come down a day sooner than I was expected, and +the train was two hours late. I'm Reginald Carey." He stopped before the +step of the car. "It's very good of you, but I won't take you out of +your way on such a beastly night. I can quite well walk."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, man! It's no distance, and it isn't out of the way. I've only +just motored down to get an evening paper. You're just in time to dine +with me. I'm all alone, and confoundedly glad to see you. I know Lady +Emberdale well. Come, jump in!"</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Carey yielded, not over-willingly, and took his seat in the +car.</p> + +<p>Directly they started, he knew the reason for his companion's pseudonym, +for they whizzed out of the yard at a speed which must have disquieted +the stoutest nerves.</p> + +<p>It was the maddest ride he had ever experienced, and he wondered by what +instinct Major Coningsby kept a straight course through the darkness. +Their own lamps provided the only light there was, and when they +presently turned sharply at right angles he gathered himself together +instinctively in preparation for a smash.</p> + +<p>But nothing happened. They tore on a little farther in darkness, +travelling along a private road; and then the lights of a house pierced +the gloom.</p> + +<p>Coningsby brought his car to a standstill.</p> + +<p>"Tumble out! The front door is straight ahead. My man will let you in +and look after you. Excuse me a moment while I take the car round!"</p> + +<p>He was gone with the words, leaving Carey to ascend a flight of steps to +the hall door. It opened at once to admit him, and he found himself in a +great hall dimly illumined by firelight. A servant helped him to divest +himself of his overcoat, and silently led the way.</p> + +<p>The room he entered was furnished as a library. He glanced round it as +he stood on the hearth-rug, awaiting his host, and was chiefly struck by +the general atmosphere of dreariness that pervaded it. Its sombre oak +furniture seemed to absorb instead of reflecting the light. There was a +large oil-painting above the fireplace, and after a few seconds he +turned his head and saw it. It was the portrait of a woman.</p> + +<p>Young, beautiful, queenly, the painted face looked down into his own, +and the man's heart gave a sudden, curious throb that was half rapture +and half pain. In a moment the room he had just entered, with all the +circumstances that had taken him there, was blotted from his brain. He +was standing once more on the rocking deck of a steamer, in a tempest of +wind and rain and furious sea, facing the storm, exultant, with a +woman's hand fast gripped in his.</p> + +<p>"Are you looking at that picture?" said a voice. "It's my wife—dead +now—lost—five years ago—at sea!"</p> + +<p>Carey wheeled sharply at the jerky utterance. Coningsby was standing by +his side. He was staring upwards at the portrait, a strange gleam +darting in his eyes—a gleam not wholly sane.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't do her justice," he went on in the same abrupt, headlong +fashion. "But it's better than nothing. She was the only woman who ever +satisfied me. Her loss damaged me badly. I've never been the same since. +There've been others, of course, but she was always first—an easy +first. I shall want her—I shall go on wanting her—till I'm in my +grave." His voice was suddenly husky, as the voice of a man in pain. +"It's like a fiery thirst," he said. "I try to quench it—Heaven knows I +try! But it comes back—it comes back."</p> + +<p>He swung round on his heel and went to the table. There followed the +clink of glasses, but Carey did not turn. His eyes had left the picture, +and were fixed, stern and unwinking, upon the fire that glowed at his +feet.</p> + +<p>Again he seemed to feel the clasp of a woman's hand, free and confiding, +within his own. Again his heart stirred responsively in the quick warmth +of a woman's perfect sympathy.</p> + +<p>And he knew that into his keeping had been given the secret of that +woman's existence. The five years' mystery was solved at last. He +understood, and, understanding, he kept silent faith with her.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_III'></a><h3>III</h3> + +<p>It was two hours later that Carey presented himself at his cousin's +house. He entered unobtrusively, as his manner was, knowing himself to +be a welcome guest.</p> + +<p>The first person to greet him was Gwen, who, accompanied by a college +youth of twenty, was roasting chestnuts in front of the hall fire. She +sprang up at the sound of his voice, and, flushed and eager, rushed to +meet him.</p> + +<p>"Why, Reggie, my dear old boy, who would have thought of seeing you +to-night? Come right in! Aren't you very cold? How did you get here? +Have you dined? This is Charlie Rivers, the Admiral's son. Charlie, you +have heard me speak of my cousin, Mr. Carey."</p> + +<p>Charlie had, several times over, and said so, with a grin, as he made +room for Carey in front of the blaze, taking care to keep himself next +to Gwen.</p> + +<p>Carey considerately fell in with the manoeuvre and, greetings over, they +huddled sociably together over the fire, and fell to discussing the +birthday party which was to be held on the morrow.</p> + +<p>Gwen was a curious blend of excitement and common sense. She had been +busily preparing all day for the coming festivity.</p> + +<p>"There's one visitor I want you both to be very good to," she said, "and +see that she takes plenty of refreshments, whether she wants them or +not."</p> + +<p>Young Rivers grimaced at Carey.</p> + +<p>"You can have my share of this unattractive female," he said generously. +"It's Gwen's schoolmistress, and I'll bet she's as heavy as a sack of +coals."</p> + +<p>"I can't dance. I'm lame," said Carey. "But I don't mind sitting out in +the refreshment room to please Gwen. How old is she, Gwen? About twice +my age?"</p> + +<p>Gwen did not stop to calculate.</p> + +<p>"Older than that, I should think. Her hair is quite grey, and she's very +sad and quiet. I am sure she has had a lot of trouble. Very likely she +won't want to dance either, so there will be a pair of you. Her name is +<i>Mademoiselle</i> Trèves, but she is only half French, and speaks English +better than I do. She never goes anywhere, so I do want her to have a +good time. You will be kind to her, won't you? I'll introduce you to her +as early as possible. We are all going to wear masks till midnight."</p> + +<p>"Stupid things—masks," said Charlie very decidedly. "Don't like 'em."</p> + +<p>Gwen turned upon him.</p> + +<p>"It's much the fairest way. If we didn't wear them, the pretty girls +would get all the best dances."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you wouldn't be left out, anyway," he assured her.</p> + +<p>At which compliment Gwen sniffed contemptuously, and pointedly requested +Carey to give her a few minutes in strict privacy before they parted for +the night.</p> + +<p>He saw that she meant it; and when Charlie had reluctantly taken himself +off he went with his young cousin to her own little sitting-room +upstairs before seeking Lady Emberdale in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Gwen could scarcely wait till the door was closed before she began to +lay her troubles before him.</p> + +<p>"It's Mummy!" she told him very seriously. "You can't think how sick and +disgusted I am. Sit down, Reggie, and I'll tell you all about it! Being +Mummy's trustee, perhaps you will have some influence over her. I have +none. She thinks I'm prejudiced. And I'm not, Reggie. There's nothing to +make me so except that Charlie is a nice boy, and the Admiral a perfect +darling."</p> + +<p>She paused for breath, and Carey patiently waited for further +enlightenment. It came.</p> + +<p>"Of course," she said, seating herself on the arm of his chair, "I've +always known that Mummy would marry again some day or other. She's so +young and pretty; and I haven't minded the idea a bit. Poor, dear Dad +was always such a very, very old man! But I do want her to marry +someone nice now the time has come. All through the summer holidays I +felt sure it was going to be the Admiral, and I was so pleased about it. +Charlie and I used to make bets about its coming off before Christmas. +He was ever so pleased, too, and we'd settled to join together for the +wedding present so as to get something decent. It was all going to be so +jolly. And now," with a great sigh, "everything's spoilt. +There's—there's someone else."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" said Carey. "Who?"</p> + +<p>He had been suppressing a laugh during the greater part of Gwen's +confidence, but this last announcement startled him into sobriety. A +very faint misgiving stirred in his soul. What if—but no; it was +preposterous. He thrust it from him.</p> + +<p>Gwen slid a loving arm about his neck.</p> + +<p>"I like telling you things, Reggie. You always understand, and they +never worry me so much afterwards. For I am—horribly worried. Mummy met +him in the hunting field. He has come to live quite near us—oh, such a +brute he is, loud and coarse and bullying! He rode a horse to death only +a few weeks ago. They say he's mad, and I'm nearly sure he drinks as +well. And he and Mummy have chummed up. They are as thick as thieves, +and he's always coming to the house, dropping in at odd hours. The poor, +dear Admiral hasn't a chance. He's much too gentlemanly to elbow his way +in like—like this horrid Major Coningsby. Oh, Reggie, do you think you +can do anything to stop it? I don't want her to marry him, neither does +Charlie. My, Reggie, what's the matter? You don't know him, do you? You +don't know anything bad about him?"</p> + +<p>Carey was on his feet, pacing slowly to and fro. One hand—the maimed +left hand—was thrust away out of sight, as his habit was in a woman's +presence. The other was clenched hard at his side.</p> + +<p>He did not at once answer Gwen's agitated questioning. She sat and +watched him in some anxiety, wondering at the stern perplexity with +which he reviewed the problem.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stopped in front of her.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know the man," he said. "I knew him years ago in South Africa, +and I met him again to-night. I must think this matter over, and +consider it carefully. You are quite sure of what you say—quite sure he +is attracted by your mother?"</p> + +<p>Gwen nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no doubt of that. He treats her already as if she were his +property. You won't tell her I told you, Reggie? It will simply +precipitate matters if you do."</p> + +<p>"No; I shan't tell her. I never argue with women." Carey spoke almost +savagely. He was staring at something that Gwen could not see.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you will be able to stop it?" she asked him, with a +slightly nervous hesitation.</p> + +<p>His eyes came back to her. He seemed to consider her for a moment. Then, +seeing that she was really troubled, he spoke with sudden kindliness:</p> + +<p>"I think so, yes. But never mind how! Leave it to me and put it out of +your head as much as possible! I quite agree with you that it is an +arrangement that wouldn't do at all. Why on earth couldn't your friend +the Admiral speak before?"</p> + +<p>"I wish he had," said Gwen, from her heart. "And I believe he does, too, +now. But men are so idiotic, Reggie. They always miss their +opportunities."</p> + +<p>"Think so?" said Carey. "Some men never have any, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>And he left her wondering at the bitterness of his speech.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_IV'></a><h3>IV</h3> + +<p>The winter sunlight was streaming into Major Coningsby's gloomy library +when Carey again stood within it. The Major was out riding, he had been +told, but he was expected back ere long; and he had decided to wait for +him.</p> + +<p>And so he stood waiting before the portrait; and closely, critically, he +studied it by the morning light.</p> + +<p>It was the face which for five years now he had carried graven on his +heart. She was the one woman to him—the woman of his dream. Throughout +his wanderings he had cherished the memory of her—a secret and +priceless possession to which he clung day and night, waking and +sleeping. He had made no effort to find her during those years, but +silently, almost in spite of himself, he had kept her in his heart, had +called her to him in his dreams, yearning to her across the +ever-widening gulf, hungering dumbly for the voice he had never heard.</p> + +<p>He knew that he was no favourite with women. All his life his reserve +had been a barrier that none had ever sought to pass till this +woman—the woman who should have been his fate—had been drifted to him +through life's stress and tumult and had laid her hand with perfect +confidence in his. And now it was laid upon him to betray that +confidence. He no longer had the right to keep her secret. He had +protected her once, and it had been as a hidden, sacred bond invisibly +linking them together. But it could do so no longer. The time had come +to wrest that precious link apart.</p> + +<p>Sharply he turned from the picture. The dark eyes tortured him. They +seemed to be pleading with him, entreating him. There came a sudden +clatter without, the tramp of heavy feet, the jingle of spurs. The door +was flung noisily back, and Major Coningsby strode in.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Very good of you to look me up so soon. Sorry I wasn't in to +receive you. Haven't you had a drink yet?"</p> + +<p>He tossed his riding-whip down upon the table, and busied himself with +the glasses.</p> + +<p>Carey drew near; his face was stern.</p> + +<p>"I have something to say to you," he said, "before we drink, if you have +no objection."</p> + +<p>His voice was quiet and very even, but Coningsby looked up with a quick +frown.</p> + +<p>"Confound you, Carey! What are you pulling a long face about this time +of the morning? Better have a drink; it'll make you feel more sociable."</p> + +<p>He spoke with sharp irritation. The hand that held the spirit-decanter +was not over-steady. Carey watched him—coldly critical.</p> + +<p>"That portrait over the mantelpiece," he said; "your wife, I think you +told me?"</p> + +<p>Coningsby swore a deep oath.</p> + +<p>"I may have told you so. I don't often mention the subject. She is +dead."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon; I am forced to mention it." Carey's tone was +deliberate, emotionless, hard. "That lady—the original of that +portrait—is still alive, to the best of my belief. At least, she was +not lost at sea on the occasion of the wreck of the <i>Denver Castle</i> five +years ago."</p> + +<p>"What?" said Coningsby. He turned suddenly white—white to the lips, and +set down the decanter he was still holding as if he had been struck +powerless. "What?" he said again, with starting eyes upon Carey's face.</p> + +<p>"I think you understood me," Carey returned coldly. "I have told you +because, upon consideration, it seemed to me you ought to know."</p> + +<p>The thing was done and past recall, but deep in his heart there lurked a +savage resentment against this man who had forced him to break his +silence. He felt no sympathy with him; he only knew disgust.</p> + +<p>Coningsby moved suddenly with a frantic oath, and gripped him by the +shoulder. The blood was coming back to his face in livid patches; his +eyes were terrible.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he said thickly. "Out with it! Tell me all you know!"</p> + +<p>He towered over Carey. There was violence in his grip, but Carey did +not seem to notice. He faced the giant with absolute composure.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you no more," he said. "I knew she was saved, because I was +saved with her. But she left Brittany while I was still too ill to +move."</p> + +<p>"You must know more than that!" shouted Coningsby, losing all control of +himself, and shaking his informant furiously by the shoulder. "If she +was saved, how did she come to be reported missing?"</p> + +<p>For a single instant Carey hesitated; then, with steady eyes upon the +bloated face above him, he made quiet reply:</p> + +<p>"Her name was among the missing by her own contrivance. Doubtless she +had her reasons."</p> + +<p>Coningsby's face suddenly changed: his eyes shone red.</p> + +<p>"You helped her!" he snarled, and lifted a clenched fist.</p> + +<p>Carey's maimed hand came quietly into view, and closed upon the man's +wrist.</p> + +<p>"It is not my custom," he coldly said, "to refuse help to a woman."</p> + +<p>"Confound you!" stormed Coningsby. "Where is she now? Where? Where?"</p> + +<p>There fell a sudden pause. Carey's eyes were like steel; his grasp never +slackened.</p> + +<p>"If I knew," he said deliberately, at length, "I should not tell you! +You are not fit for the society of any good woman."</p> + +<p>The words fell keen as a whip-lash, and as pitiless. Coningsby glared +into his face like a goaded bull; his look was murderous. And then by +some chance his eyes fell upon the hand that gripped his wrist. He +looked at it closely, attentively, for a few seconds, and finally set +Carey free.</p> + +<p>"You may thank that," he said more quietly, "for getting you out of the +hottest corner you were ever in. I didn't notice it yesterday, though I +remember now that you were wounded. So you parted with half your hand to +drag me out of that hell, did you? It was a rank, bad investment on your +part."</p> + +<p>He flung away abruptly, and helped himself to some brandy. A +considerable pause ensued before he spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Egad!" he said then, with a harsh laugh, "it's a deuced ingenious lie, +this of yours. I suppose you and that imp of mischief, Gwen, hatched it +up between you? I saw she had got her thinking-cap on yesterday. I am +not considered good enough for her lady mother. But, mark you, I'm going +to have her for all that! It isn't good for man to live alone, and I +have taken a fancy to Evelyn Emberdale."</p> + +<p>"You don't believe me?" Carey asked.</p> + +<p>Somehow, though he had been prepared for bluster and even violence, he +had not expected incredulity.</p> + +<p>Coningsby filled and emptied his glass a second time before he answered.</p> + +<p>"No," he said then, with sudden savagery: "I don't believe you! You had +better get out of my house at once, or—I warn you—I may break every +bone in your blackguardly body yet!" He turned on Carey, leaping madness +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>But Carey stood like a rock. "You know the truth," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>Coningsby broke into another wild laugh, and pointed up at the picture +above his head.</p> + +<p>"I shall know it," he declared, "when the sea gives up its dead. Till +that day I am free to console myself in my own way, and no one shall +stop me."</p> + +<p>"You are not free," Carey said. Very steadily he faced the man, very +distinctly he spoke. "And, however you console yourself, it will not be +with my cousin Lady Emberdale."</p> + +<p>Coningsby turned back to the table to fill his glass again. He spilt the +spirit over the cloth as he did it.</p> + +<p>"Man alive," he gibed, "do you think she will believe you if I don't?"</p> + +<p>It was the weak point of his position, and Carey realised it. It was +more than probable that Lady Emberdale would take Coningsby's view of +the matter. If the man really attracted her it was almost a foregone +conclusion. He knew Gwen's mother well—her inconsequent whims, her +obstinacy.</p> + +<p>Yet, even in face of this check, he stood his ground.</p> + +<p>"I may find some means of proving what I have told you," he said, with +unswerving resolution.</p> + +<p>Coningsby drained his glass for the third time, and, with a menacing +sweep of the hand, seized his riding-whip.</p> + +<p>"I don't advise you to come here with your proofs," he snarled. "The +only proof I would look at is the woman herself. Now, sir, I have warned +you fairly. Are you going?"</p> + +<p>His attitude was openly threatening, but Carey's eyes were piercingly +upon him, and, in spite of himself, he paused. So for the passage of +seconds they stood; then slowly Carey turned away.</p> + +<p>"I am going," he said, "to find your wife."</p> + +<p>He did not glance again at the picture as he passed from the room. He +could not bring himself to meet the dark eyes that followed him.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_V'></a><h3>V</h3> + +<p>Yes; he would find her. But how? There was only one course open to him, +and he shrank from that with disgust unutterable. It was useless to +think of advertising. He was convinced that she would never answer an +advertisement.</p> + +<p>The only way to find her was to employ a detective to track her down. He +clenched his hands in impotent revolt. Not only had it been laid upon +him to betray her confidence, but he must follow this up by dragging her +from her hiding-place, and returning her to the bitter bondage from +which he had once helped her to escape.</p> + +<p>That she still lived he was inwardly convinced. He would have given all +he had to have known her dead.</p> + +<p>But, for that day, at least, there was no more to be done, and Gwen must +not have her birthday spoilt by the knowledge of his failure. He decided +to keep out of her way till the evening.</p> + +<p>When he entered the ball-room at the appointed time she pounced upon him +eagerly, but her young guests were nearly all assembled, and it was no +moment for private conversation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie! There you are! How dreadful you look in a mask! This is my +cousin, <i>mademoiselle</i>," turning to a lady in black who accompanied her. +"I've been wanting to introduce him to you. Don't forget that the masks +are not to come off till midnight. We're going to boom the big gong when +the clock strikes twelve."</p> + +<p>She flitted away in her shimmering fairy's dress, closely attended by +Charlie Rivers, to persuade his father to give her a dance. The room was +crowded with masked guests, Lady Emberdale, handsome and brilliant, and +Admiral Rivers, her bluff but faithful admirer, being the only +exceptions to the rule of the evening.</p> + +<p>Carey found himself standing apart with Gwen's particular <i>protégée</i>, +and he realised at once that he could expect no help from Charlie in +this quarter. For, though slim and graceful, <i>Mademoiselle</i> Trèves's +general appearance was undeniably sombre and elderly. The hair that she +wore coiled regally upon her head was silver-grey, and there was a +certain weariness about the mouth that, though it did not rob it of its +sweetness, deprived it of all suggestion of youth.</p> + +<p>"I don't know if I am justified in asking for a dance," Carey said. "My +own dancing days are over."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him, and instantly the weariness vanished. There was magic +in her smile.</p> + +<p>"I am no dancer either, except with the little ones. If you care to sit +out with me, I shall be very pleased."</p> + +<p>Her voice was low and musical. It caught his fancy so that he was aware +of a sudden curiosity to see the face that the black mask concealed.</p> + +<p>"Give me the twelve-o'clock dance," he said, "if you can spare it!"</p> + +<p>She consulted the programme that hung from her wrist. He bent over it as +she held it, and scrawled his initials against the dance in question.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall not stay for that one," she said, with slight +hesitation.</p> + +<p>He glanced up at her.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were here for the night."</p> + +<p>She bent her head.</p> + +<p>"But I may slip away before twelve for all that."</p> + +<p>Carey smiled.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will, not anyhow if I have a voice in the matter. I +am Gwen's lieutenant, you know, specially enrolled to prevent any +deserting. There is a heavy penalty for desertion."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>Carey bent again over the programme.</p> + +<p>"Deserters will be brought back ignominiously and made to dance with +everyone in the room in turn."</p> + +<p>He glanced up again at the sound of her low laugh. There was something +elusively suggestive about her personality.</p> + +<p>"May I have another?" he said. "I hope you don't mind holding the card +for me."</p> + +<p>"You have hurt your hand?" she asked.</p> + +<p>It was thrust away, as usual, in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Some years ago," he told her. "I don't use it more than I can help."</p> + +<p>"How disagreeable for you!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I am used to it. It is worse for others than it is for me. May I have +No. 9? It includes the supper interval. Thanks! And any more you can +spare. I'm only lounging about and seeing that the kids enjoy +themselves. I shall be delighted to sit out with you when you are tired +of dancing."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," she said.</p> + +<p>He made her an abrupt bow.</p> + +<p>"Then I hope you won't snub my efforts by deserting?"</p> + +<p>She laughed again.</p> + +<p>"No, lieutenant, I will not desert. I am going to help you."</p> + +<p>She spoke with a winning and impulsive graciousness that stirred again +within him that curious sense of groping in the dark among objects +familiar but unrecognisable. Surely he had met this stranger somewhere +before—in a crowded thoroughfare, in a train, possibly in a theatre, or +even in a church!</p> + +<p>She looked at him questioningly as he lingered, and with another bow he +turned and left her. Doubtless, when he saw her face he would remember, +or realise that he had been mistaken.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_VI'></a><h3>VI</h3> + +<p>Mademoiselle Trèves kept her word, and wherever the fun was at its +height she was invariably the centre of it. The shy children crowded +about her. She seemed to possess a special charm for them.</p> + +<p>Gwen was delighted, and was obviously enjoying herself to the utmost. In +the absence of her <i>bête noire</i> whom she had courageously omitted to +invite, she rejoiced to see that her mother was being unusually gracious +to her beloved Admiral, who was as merry as a schoolboy in consequence.</p> + +<p>She was shrewdly aware, however, that the welcome change was but +temporary. Incomprehensible though it was to Gwen, she knew that Major +Coningsby's power over her gay and frivolous young mother was absolute. +He ruled her with a rod of iron, and Lady Emberdale actually enjoyed his +tyranny. The rough court he paid her served to turn her head completely, +and she never attempted to resist his influence.</p> + +<p>It was all very distasteful to Gwen, who hated the man with the whole +force of her nature. She was thankful to feel that Carey was enlisted on +her side. She looked upon him as a tower of strength, and, forebodings +notwithstanding, she was able to throw herself heart and soul into the +evening's festivities, and to beam delightedly upon her cousin as she +walked behind him with Charlie to the supper room.</p> + +<p>Carey was escorting the French governess. He found a comfortable corner +for her in the thronged room at a table laid for two.</p> + +<p>"I am bearing in mind your promise to stand by till twelve o'clock," he +said. "It's the only thing that keeps me going, for I have a powerful +longing to remove my mask in defiance of orders. It feels like a porous +plaster. I shall only hold out till midnight with your gallant +assistance."</p> + +<p>He stooped with the words to pick up her fan which she had dropped. He +was obliged to use his left hand, and he knew that she gave a quick +start at sight of it. But she spoke instantly and he admired her ready +self-control.</p> + +<p>"It was rather a rash promise, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>Her voice sounded half shy and wholly sweet, and again he was caught by +that elusive quality about her that had puzzled him before. It was +stronger than ever, so strong that he felt for a moment on the verge of +discovery. But yet again it baffled him, making him all the more +determined to pursue it to its source.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to cry off?" he said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>He saw her flush behind her mask.</p> + +<p>"Only with your permission," she answered.</p> + +<p>He heard the note of pleading in her voice, but he would not notice it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't let you off!" he said lightly. "Gwen would never forgive +me. Besides, I don't want to."</p> + +<p>She said no more, probably realising that he meant to have his way. They +talked upon indifferent topics in the midst of the general buzz of +merriment till, supper over, they separated.</p> + +<p>"I shall come for that midnight dance," were Carey's last words, as he +bowed and left her.</p> + +<p>And during the hour that intervened he kept a sharp eye upon her, lest +her evident reluctance to remain should prove too much for her +integrity. He was half amused at his own tenacity in the matter. Not for +years had a chance acquaintance so excited his curiosity.</p> + +<p>A few minutes before midnight he was standing before her. The last dance +of the evening had just begun. Gwen had decreed that everyone should +stop upon the stroke of twelve, while every mask was removed, after +which the dance was to be continued to the finish.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go upstairs?" suggested Carey.</p> + +<p>To his surprise he felt that the hand she laid upon his arm was +trembling.</p> + +<p>"By all means," she answered. "Let us get away from the crowd!"</p> + +<p>It was an unexpected request, but he showed no surprise. He piloted her +to a secluded spot in the upper regions, and they sat down on a lounge +at the end of a corridor.</p> + +<p>A queer sense of uneasiness had begun to oppress Carey, as strong as it +was inexplicable. He made a resolute effort to ignore it. The music +downstairs was sinking away. He took out his watch.</p> + +<p>"The dramatic moment approaches," he remarked, after a pause. "Are you +ready?"</p> + +<p>She did not speak.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why I want to see you unmask," he said, speaking very +quietly. "It is because there is something about you that reminds me of +someone I know, but the resemblance is so subtle that it has eluded me +all the evening."</p> + +<p>"You do not know me," she said. And he felt that she spoke with an +effort.</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure," he answered. "But in any case—"</p> + +<p>He paused. The music had ceased altogether, and an expectant silence +prevailed. He looked at her intently as he waited, till aware that she +shrank from his scrutiny.</p> + +<p>A long deep note boomed through the house, echoing weirdly through the +intense silence. Carey put up his hand without speaking, and stripped +off his mask. He crumpled it into a ball as the second note struck, and +looked at her. She had not moved. He waited silently.</p> + +<p>At the sixth note she made a sudden, almost passionate gesture and rose. +Carey remained motionless, watching her. Swiftly she turned, and began +to walk away from him. He leaned forward. His eyes were fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>Three more strokes! She stopped abruptly, turning back as if he had +spoken. Moving slowly, and still masked, she came back to him. He met +her under a lamp. His face was very pale, but his eyes were steady and +piercingly keen. He took her hand, bending over it till his lips touched +her glove.</p> + +<p>"I know you now," he said, his voice very low.</p> + +<p>Three more strokes, and silence.</p> + +<p>A ripple of laughter suddenly ran through the house, a gay voice called +for three cheers, and as though a spell had been lifted the merriment +burst out afresh in tune to the lilting dance-music.</p> + +<p>Carey straightened himself slowly, still holding the slender hand in +his. Her mask had gone at last, and he stood face to face with the woman +of his dream—the woman whose hard-won security he had only that morning +pledged himself to shatter.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_VII'></a><h3>VII</h3> + +<p>"You know me," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know you. And I know your secret, too."</p> + +<p>The words sounded stern. He was putting strong restraint upon himself.</p> + +<p>She faced him without flinching, her look as steady as his own. And yet +again it was to Carey as though he stood in the presence of a queen. She +did not say a word.</p> + +<p>"Will you believe me," he said slowly, "when I tell you that I would +give all I have not to know it?"</p> + +<p>She raised her beautiful brows for a moment, but still she said nothing.</p> + +<p>He let her hand go. "I was on the point of searching to the world's end +for you," he said. "But since I have found you here of all places, I am +bound to take advantage of it. Forgive me, if you can!"</p> + +<p>He saw a gleam of apprehension in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want to say to me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He passed the question by.</p> + +<p>"You know me, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>She bent her head.</p> + +<p>"I fancied it was you from the first. When I saw your hand at supper, I +knew."</p> + +<p>"And you tried to avoid me?"</p> + +<p>"When you have something to conceal, it is wise to avoid anyone +connected with it."</p> + +<p>She answered him very quietly, but he knew instinctively that she was +fighting him with her whole strength. It was almost more than he could +bear.</p> + +<p>"Believe me," he said, "I am not a man to wantonly betray a woman's +secret. I have kept yours faithfully for years. But when within the last +few days I came to know who you were, and that your husband, Major +Coningsby, was contemplating making a second marriage, I was in honour +bound to speak."</p> + +<p>"You told him?" She raised her eyes for a single instant, and he read in +them a reproach unutterable.</p> + +<p>His heart smote him. What had she endured, this woman, before taking +that final step to cut herself off from the man whose name she had +borne? But he would not yield an inch. He was goaded by pitiless +necessity.</p> + +<p>"I told him," he answered. "But I had no means of proving what I said. +And he refused to believe me."</p> + +<p>"And now?" she almost whispered.</p> + +<p>He heard the note of tragedy in the words, and he braced himself to meet +her most desperate resistance.</p> + +<p>"Before I go further," he said, "let me tell you this! Slight though you +may consider our acquaintance to be, I have always felt—I have always +known—that you are a good woman."</p> + +<p>She made a quick gesture of protest.</p> + +<p>"Would a good woman have left the man who saved her life lying ill in a +strange land while she escaped with her miserable freedom?"</p> + +<p>He answered her without hesitation, as he had long ago answered himself.</p> + +<p>"No doubt the need was great."</p> + +<p>She turned away from him and sat down, bowing her head upon her hand.</p> + +<p>"It was," she said, her voice very low. "I was nearly mad with trouble. +You had pity then—without knowing. Have you—no pity—now?"</p> + +<p>The appeal went out into silence. Carey neither spoke nor moved. His +face was like a stone mask—the face of a strong man in torture.</p> + +<p>After a pause of seconds she spoke again, her face hidden from him.</p> + +<p>"The first Mrs. Coningsby is dead," she said. "Let it be so! Nothing +will ever bring her back. Geoffrey Coningsby is free to marry—whom he +will."</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely more than a whisper, but they reached and +pierced him to the heart. He drew a step nearer to her, and spoke with +sudden vehemence.</p> + +<p>"I would help you, Heaven knows, if I could! But you will see—you must +see presently—that I have no choice. There is only one thing to be +done, and it has fallen to me to see it through, though it would be +easier for me to die!"</p> + +<p>He broke off. There was strangled passion in his voice. Abruptly he +turned his back upon her, and began to pace up and down. Again there +fell a long pause. The music and the tramp of dancing feet below rose up +in his ears like a shout of mockery. He was fighting the hardest battle +of his life, fighting single-handed and grievously wounded for a victory +that would cripple him for the rest of his days.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stood still and looked at her, though she had not moved, +unless her head with its silvery hair were bowed a little lower than +before. For a single instant he hesitated, then strode impulsively to +her, and knelt down by her side.</p> + +<p>"God help us both!" he said hoarsely.</p> + +<p>His hands were on her shoulders. He drew her to him, taking the bowed +head upon his breast. And so, silently, he held her. When she looked up +at last, he knew that the bitter triumph was his. Her face was deathly, +but her eyes were steadfast. She drew herself very gently out of his +hold.</p> + +<p>"I do not think," she said, "that there is anyone else in the world who +could have done for me what you have done tonight." She paused a moment +looking straight into his eyes, then laid her hands in his without a +quiver. "Years ago," she said, "you saved my life. Tonight—you have +saved something infinitely more precious than that. And I—I am +grateful to you. I will do—whatever you think right."</p> + +<p>It was a free surrender, but it wrung his heart to accept it. Even in +that moment of tragedy there was to him something of that sublime +courage with which she had faced the tumult of a stormy sea with him +five years before. And very poignantly it came home to him that he was +there to destroy and not to deliver. Like a wave of evil, it rushed upon +him, overwhelming him.</p> + +<p>He could not trust himself to speak. The wild words that ran in his +brain were such as he could not utter. And so he only bent his head once +more over the hands that lay so trustingly in his, and with great +reverence he kissed them.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_VIII'></a><h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>It was on a cold, dark evening two days later that Major Coningsby +returned from the first run of the year, and tramped, mud-splashed and +stiff from hard riding, into his gloomy house. A gust of rain blew +swirling after him, and he turned, swearing, and shut the great door +with a bang. It had not been a good day for sport. The ground had been +sodden, and the scent had washed away. He had followed the hounds for +miles to no purpose and had galloped home at last in sheer disgust. To +add to his grievances he had called upon Lady Emberdale on his way back, +and had not found her in. "Gone to tea with her precious Admiral, I +suppose!" he had growled, as he rode away, which, as it chanced, was the +case. The suspicion had not improved his mood, and he was very much out +of humour when he finally reached his own domain. Striding into the +library, he turned on the threshold to curse his servant for not having +lighted the lamp, and the man hastened forward nervously to repair the +omission. This accomplished, he as hastily retired, glancing furtively +over his shoulder as he made his escape.</p> + +<p>Coningsby tramped to the hearth, and stood there, beating his leg +irritably with his riding-whip. There was a heavy frown on his face. He +did not once raise his eyes to the picture above him. He was still +thinking of Lady Emberdale and the Admiral. Finally, with a sudden idea +of refreshing himself, he wheeled towards the table. The next instant, +he stood and stared as if transfixed.</p> + +<p>A woman dressed in black, and thickly veiled, was standing facing him +under the lamp.</p> + +<p>He gazed at her speechlessly for a second or two, then passed his hand +across his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Great heavens!" he said slowly, at last.</p> + +<p>She made a quick movement of the hands that was like a gesture of +shrinking.</p> + +<p>"You don't know me?" she asked, in a voice so low as to be barely +audible.</p> + +<p>For a moment there flashed into his face the curious, listening look +that is seen on the faces of the blind. Then violently he strode +forward.</p> + +<p>"I should know that voice in ten thousand!" he cried, his words sharp +and quivering. "Take off your veil, woman! Show me your face!"</p> + +<p>The hunger in his eyes was terrible to see. He looked like a dying man +reaching out impotent hands for some priceless elixir of life.</p> + +<p>"Your face!" he gasped again hoarsely, brokenly. "Show me your face!"</p> + +<p>Mutely she obeyed him, removed hat and veil with fingers that never +faltered, and turned her sad, calm face towards him. For seconds longer +he stared at her, stared devouringly, fiercely, with the eyes of a +madman. Then, suddenly, with a great cry, he stumbled forward, flinging +himself upon his knees at the table, with his face hidden on his arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know you! I know you!" he sobbed. "You've tortured me like this +before. You've made me think I had only to open my arms to you, and I +should have you close against my heart. It's happened night after night, +night after night! Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!"</p> + +<p>His voice choked, and he became intensely still crouching there before +her in an anguish too great for words.</p> + +<p>For a long time she was motionless too, but at last, as he did not move, +she came a step toward him, pity and repugnance struggling visibly for +the mastery over her. Reluctantly she stooped and touched his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey!" she said, "it is I, myself, this time."</p> + +<p>He started at her touch but did not lift his head.</p> + +<p>She waited, and presently he began to recover himself. At last he +blundered heavily to his feet.</p> + +<p>"It's true, is it?" he said, peering at her uncertainly. "You're +here—in the flesh? You've been having just a ghastly sort of game with +me all these years, have you? Hang it, I didn't deserve quite that! And +so the little newspaper chap spoke the truth, after all."</p> + +<p>He paused; then suddenly flung out his arms to her as he stood.</p> + +<p>"Naomi!" he cried, "come to me, my girl! Don't be afraid. I swear I'll +be good to you, and I'm a man that keeps his oath! Come to me, I say!"</p> + +<p>But she held back from him, her face still white and calm.</p> + +<p>"No, Geoffrey," she said very firmly, "I haven't come back to you for +that. When I left you, I left you for good. And you know why. I never +meant to see your face again. You had made my life with you impossible. +I have only come to-day as—as a matter of principle, because I heard +you were going to marry again."</p> + +<p>The man's arms fell slowly.</p> + +<p>"You were always rather great on principle," he said, in an odd tone.</p> + +<p>He was not angry—that she saw. But the sudden dying away of the +eagerness on his face made him look old and different. This was not the +man whose hurricanes of violence had once overwhelmed her, whose +unrestrained passions had finally driven her from him to take refuge in +a lie.</p> + +<p>"I should not have come," she said, speaking with less assurance, "if it +had not been to prevent a wrong being done to another woman."</p> + +<p>His expression did not change.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said quietly. "Who sent you? Carey?"</p> + +<p>She flushed uncontrollably at the question, though there was no offence +in the tone in which it was uttered.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, after a moment.</p> + +<p>Coningsby turned slowly and looked into the fire.</p> + +<p>"And how did he persuade you?" he asked. "Did he tell you I was going +blind?"</p> + +<p>"No!" There was apprehension as well as surprise in her voice; and he +jerked his head up as though listening to it.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well!" he said. "It doesn't much matter. There is a remedy for all +this world's evils. No doubt I shall take it sooner or later. So you're +going again are you? I'm not to touch you; not to kiss your hand? You +won't have me as husband, slave, or dog! Egad!" He laughed out harshly. +"I used not to be so humble. If you were queen, I was king, and I made +you know it. There! Go! You have done what you came to do, and more +also. Go quickly, before I see your face again! I'm only mortal still, +and there are some things that mortals can't endure—even strong +men—even giants. So—good-bye!"</p> + +<p>He stopped abruptly. He was gripping the high mantelpiece with both +hands. Every bone of them stood out distinctly, and the veins shone +purple in the lamplight. His head was bowed forward upon his chest. He +was fighting fiercely with that demon of unfettered violence to which he +had yielded such complete allegiance all his life.</p> + +<p>Minutes passed. He dared not turn his head to look but he knew that she +had not gone. He waited dumbly, still forcing back the evil impulse +that tore at his heart. But the tension became at last intolerable, and +slowly, still gripping himself with all his waning strength, he stood up +and turned.</p> + +<p>She was standing close to him. The repugnance had all gone out of her +face. It held only the tenderness of a great compassion.</p> + +<p>As he stared at her dumbfounded, she held out her hands to him.</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey," she said, "if you wish it, I will come back to you."</p> + +<p>He stared at her, still wide-eyed and mute, as though a spell were upon +him.</p> + +<p>"Won't you have me, Geoffrey?" she said, a faint quiver in her voice.</p> + +<p>He seized her hands then, seized them, and drew her to him, bowing his +head down upon her shoulder with a great sob.</p> + +<p>"Naomi, Naomi," he whispered huskily, "I will be good to you, my +darling—so help me, God!"</p> + +<p>Her own eyes were full of tears. She yielded herself to him without a +word.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_IX'></a><h3>IX</h3> + +<p>"Can I come in a moment, Reggie?"</p> + +<p>Gwen's bright face peered round the door at him as he sat at the +writing-table in his room, with his head upon his hand. He looked up at +her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, come in, child! What is it?"</p> + +<p>She entered eagerly and went to him.</p> + +<p>"Are you busy, dear old boy? It is horrid that you should be going away +so soon. I only wanted just to tell you something that the dear old +Admiral has just told me."</p> + +<p>She sat down in her favourite position on the arm of his chair, her arm +about his neck. Her eyes were shining. Carey looked up at her.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said. "Has he plucked up courage at last to ask for what he +wants?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he actually has." There was a purr of content in Gwen's voice. +"And it's quite all right, Reggie. Mummy has said 'yes,' as I knew she +would, directly I told her about Major Coningsby finding his wife again. +All she said to that was: 'Dear me! How annoying for poor Major +Coningsby!' I thought it was horrid of her to say that, but I didn't say +so, for I wanted it all to come quite casually. And after that I wrote +to Charlie, and he told the Admiral. And he came straight over only +this morning and asked her. He's been telling me all about it, and he's +so awfully happy! He says he was a big fool not to ask her long ago in +the summer. For what do you think she said, Reggie, when he told her +that he'd been wanting to marry her for ever so long, but couldn't be +quite sure how she felt about it? Why, she said, with that funny little +laugh of hers—you know her way—'My dear Admiral, I was only waiting +to be asked.' The dear old man nearly cried when he told me. And I +kissed him. And he and Charlie are coming over to dine this evening. So +we can all be happy together."</p> + +<p>Gwen paused to breathe, and to give her cousin an ardent hug.</p> + +<p>"You've been a perfect dear about it," she ended with enthusiasm. "It +would never have happened but for you, and—and Mademoiselle Trèves. Do +you think she hated going back to that man very badly?"</p> + +<p>"I think she did," said Carey.</p> + +<p>He was looking, not at Gwen, but straight at the window in front of him. +There were deep lines about his eyes, as if he had not slept of late.</p> + +<p>"But she needn't have stayed," urged Gwen.</p> + +<p>He did not answer. In his pocket there lay a slip of paper containing a +few brief lines in a woman's hand.</p> + +<p>"I have taken up my burden again, and, God helping me, I will carry it +now to the end. You know what it means to me, but I shall always thank +you in my heart, because in the hour of my utter weakness you were +strong.—NAOMI CONINGSBY."</p> + +<p>The splendid courage that underlay those few words had not hidden from +the man the cost of her sacrifice. She had gone voluntarily back into +the bondage that once had crushed her to the earth. And he—and he +only—knew what it meant to her.</p> + +<p>He was brought back to his surroundings by the pressure of Gwen's arm. +He turned and found her looking closely into his face.</p> + +<p>"Reggie," she said, with a touch of shyness, "are you—unhappy—about +something?" He did not answer her at once, and she slipped suddenly down +upon her knees by his side. "Forgive me, dear old boy! Do you know, I +couldn't help guessing a little? You're not vexed?"</p> + +<p>He laid a silencing hand upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind your knowing, dear," he said gently.</p> + +<p>And he stooped, and kissed her forehead. She clung to him closely for a +second. When she rose, her eyes were wet. But, obedient to his unspoken +desire, she did not say another word.</p> + +<p>When she was gone Carey roused himself from his preoccupation, and +concentrated his thoughts upon his correspondence. He was leaving +England in two days, and travelling to the East on a solitary shooting +expedition. He did not review the prospect with much relish, but +inaction had become intolerable to him, and he had an intense longing +to get away. He had arranged to return to town that afternoon.</p> + +<p>It was towards luncheon-time that he left his room, and, descending, +came upon Lady Emberdale in the hall. She turned to meet him, a slight +flush upon her face.</p> + +<p>"No doubt Gwen has told you our piece of news?" she said.</p> + +<p>He held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"It is official, is it? I am very glad. I wish you joy with all my +heart."</p> + +<p>She accepted his congratulations with a gracious smile.</p> + +<p>"I think everyone is pleased, including those absurd children. By the +way, here is a note just come for you, brought by a groom from +Crooklands Manor. I was going to bring it up to you, as he is waiting +for an answer."</p> + +<p>He took it up and opened it hastily, with a murmured excuse. When he +looked up, Lady Emberdale saw at once that there was something wrong. +She began to question him, but he held the note out to her with a quick +gesture, and she took it from him.</p> + +<div class='blkquot'><p>"My husband met with an accident while motoring this morning," + she read. "He has been brought home, terribly injured, and + keeps asking for you. Can you come?</p> + +<p> "N. CONINGSBY."</p></div> + +<p>Glancing up, she saw Carey, pale and stern, waiting to speak.</p> + +<p>"Send back word, 'Yes, at once,'" he said. "And perhaps you can spare me +the car?"</p> + +<p>He turned away without waiting for her reply, and went back to his room, +crushing the note unconsciously in his hand.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_X'></a><h3>X</h3> + +<p>"And the sea—gave up—the dead—that were in it." Haltingly the words +fell through the silence. There was a certain monotony about them, as if +they had been often repeated. The speaker turned his head from side to +side upon the pillow uneasily, as if conscious of restraint, then spoke +again in the tone of one newly awakened. "Why doesn't that fellow come?" +he demanded restlessly. "Did you tell him I couldn't wait?"</p> + +<p>"He is coming," a quiet voice answered at his side. "He will soon be +here."</p> + +<p>He moved his head again at the words, seeming to listen intently.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Naomi, my girl," he said, "you've turned up trumps at last. It +won't have been such a desperate sacrifice after all, eh, dear? It's +wonderful how things get squared. Is that the doctor there? I can't see +very well."</p> + +<p>The doctor bent over him.</p> + +<p>"Are you wanting anything?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—nothing, except that fellow Carey. Why in thunder doesn't he +come? No; there's nothing you can do. I'm pegging out. My time is up. +You can't put back the clock. I wouldn't let you if you could—not as +things are. I have been a blackguard in my time, but I'll take my last +hedge straight. I'll die like a man."</p> + +<p>Again he turned his head, seeming to listen.</p> + +<p>"I thought I heard something. Did someone open the door? It's getting +very dark."</p> + +<p>Yes; the door had opened, but only the dying brain had caught the sound. +As Carey came noiselessly forward only the dying man greeted him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, here you are! Come quite close to me! I want to see you, if I can. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Carey said.</p> + +<p>He sat down by Coningsby's side, facing the light.</p> + +<p>"I was told you wanted me," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I want you to give me a promise." Coningsby spoke rapidly, with +brows drawn together. "I suppose you know I'm a dead man?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe in death," Carey answered very quietly.</p> + +<p>Coningsby's eyes burned with a strange light.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," he said. "Nor I. I've been too near it before now to be afraid. +Also, I've lived too long and too hard to care overmuch for what is +left. But there's one thing I mean to do before I go. And you'll give me +your promise to see it through?"</p> + +<p>He paused, breathing quick and short; then went on hurriedly, as a man +whose time is limited.</p> + +<p>"You'll stick to it, I know, for you're a fellow that speaks the truth. +I nearly thrashed you for it, once. Remember? You said I wasn't fit for +the society of any good woman. And you were right—quite right. I never +have been. Yet you ended by sending me the best woman in the world. What +made you do that, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Carey did not answer. His face was sternly composed. He had not once +glanced at the woman who sat on the other side of Coningsby's bed.</p> + +<p>Coningsby went on unheeding.</p> + +<p>"I drove her away from me, and you—you sent her back. I don't think I +could have done that for the woman I loved. For you do love her, eh, +Carey? I remember seeing it in your face that first night I brought you +here. It comes back to me. You were standing before her portrait in the +library. You didn't know I saw you. I was drunk at the time. But I've +remembered it since."</p> + +<p>Again he paused. His breath was slowing down. It came spasmodically, +with long silences between.</p> + +<p>Carey had listened with his eyes fixed and hard, staring straight before +him, but now slowly at length he turned his head, and looked down at the +man who was dying.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better tell me what it is you want me to do?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Coningsby seemed to rouse himself. "It isn't much, after all," he +said. "I made my will only this morning. It was on my way back that I +had the smash. I was quite sober, only I couldn't see very well, and I +lost control. All my property goes to my wife. That's all settled. But +there's one thing left—one thing left—which I am going to leave you. +It's the only thing I value, but there's no nobility about it, for I +can't take it with me where I'm going. I want you, Carey—when I'm +dead—to marry the woman you love, and give her happiness. Don't wait +for the sake of decency! That consideration never appealed to me. I say +it in her presence, that she may know it is my wish. Marry her, man—you +love each other—did you think I didn't know? And take her away to some +Utopia of your own, and—and—teach her—to forget me."</p> + +<p>His voice shook and ceased. His wife had slipped to her knees by the +bed, hiding her face. Carey sat mute and motionless, but the grim look +had passed from his face. It was almost tender.</p> + +<p>Gaspingly at length Coningsby spoke again: "Are you going to do it, +Carey? Are you going to give me your promise? I shall sleep the easier +for it."</p> + +<p>Carey turned to him and gripped one of the man's powerless hands in his +own. For a moment he did not speak—it almost seemed he could not. Then +at last, very low, but resolute his answer came:</p> + +<p>"I promise to do my part," he said.</p> + +<p>In the silence that followed he rose noiselessly and moved away.</p> + +<p>He left Naomi still kneeling beside the bed, and as he passed out he +heard the dying man speak her name. But what passed between them he +never knew.</p> + +<p>When he saw her again, nearly an hour later, Geoffrey Coningsby was +dead.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_XI'></a><h3>XI</h3> + +<p>It was on a day of frosty sunshine, nearly a fortnight later, that Carey +dismounted before the door of Crooklands Manor, and asked for its +mistress.</p> + +<p>He was shown at once into the library, where he found her seated before +a great oak bureau with a litter of papers all around her.</p> + +<p>She flushed deeply as she rose to greet him. They had not met since the +day of her husband's funeral.</p> + +<p>"I see you're busy," he said, as he came forward.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she assented. "Such stacks of papers that must be examined before +they can be destroyed. It's dreary work, and I have been very thankful +to have Gwen with me. She has just gone out riding."</p> + +<p>"I met her," Carey said. "She was with young Rivers."</p> + +<p>"It is a farewell ride," Naomi told him. "She goes back to school +to-morrow. Dear child! I shall miss her. Please sit down!"</p> + +<p>The colour had ebbed from her face, leaving it very pale. She did not +look at Carey, but began slowly to sort afresh a pile of +correspondence.</p> + +<p>He ignored her request, and stood watching her till at last she laid the +packet down.</p> + +<p>Then somewhat abruptly he spoke: "I've just come in to tell you my +plans."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" She took up an old cheque-book, as if she could not bear to be +idle, and began to look through it, seeming to search for something.</p> + +<p>Again he fell silent, watching her.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" she repeated after a moment, bending a little over the book she +held.</p> + +<p>"They are very simple," he said quietly. "I'm going to a place I know of +in the Himalayas where there is a wonderful river that one can punt +along all day and all night, and never come to an end."</p> + +<p>Again he paused. The fingers that held the memorandum were not quite +steady.</p> + +<p>"And you have come to say good-bye?" she suggested in her deep, sad +voice.</p> + +<p>His eyes were turned gravely upon her, but there was a faint smile at +the corners of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"No," he said in his abrupt fashion. "That isn't in the plan. Good-bye +to the rest of the world if you will, but never again to you!"</p> + +<p>He drew close to her and gently took the cheque-book out of her grasp.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come with me, Naomi," he said very tenderly. "My darling, +will you come? I have wanted you—for years."</p> + +<p>A great quiver went through her, as though every pulse leapt to the +words he uttered. For a second she stood quite still, with her face +lifted to the sunlight. Then she turned, without question or words of +any sort, as she had turned long ago—yet with a difference—and laid +her hand with perfect confidence in his.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Return_Game'></a><h2>THE RETURN GAME</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='5%' summary="TOC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right:auto;"><tr> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_I'>I</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_II'>II</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_III'>III</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_IV'>IV</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_V'>V</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_VI'>VI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_VII'>VII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_VIII'>VIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_IX'>IX</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_X'>X</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XI'>XI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XII'>XII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XIII'>XIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XIV'>XIV</a></td> +</tr></table> + +<a name='Return_Game_I'></a><h3>I</h3> + +<p>"Well played, Hone! Oh, well played indeed!"</p> + +<p>A great roar of applause went up from the polo-ground like the surge and +wash of an Atlantic roller. The regimental hero was distinguishing +himself—a state of affairs by no means unusual, for success always +followed Hone. His luck was proverbial in the regiment, as sure and as +deeply-rooted as his popularity.</p> + +<p>"It's the devil's own concoction," declared Teddy Duncombe, Major Hone's +warmest friend and admirer, who was watching from the great stand near +the refreshment-tent. "It never fails. We call him Achilles because he +always carries all before him."</p> + +<p>"Even Achilles had his vulnerable point," remarked Mrs. Perceval, to +whom the words were addressed.</p> + +<p>She spoke with her dark eyes fixed upon the distant figure. Seen from a +distance, he seemed to be indeed invincible—a magnificent horseman who +rode like a fury, yet checked and wheeled his pony with the skill of a +circus rider. But there was no admiration in Mrs. Perceval's intent +gaze. She looked merely critical.</p> + +<p>"Pat hasn't," replied Duncombe, whose love for Hone was no mean thing, +and who gloried in his Irish major's greatness. "He's a man in ten +thousand—the finest specimen of an imperfect article ever produced."</p> + +<p>His enthusiasm fell on barren ground. Mrs. Perceval was not apparently +bestowing much attention upon him. She was watching the play with brows +slightly drawn.</p> + +<p>Duncombe looked at her with faint surprise. She was not often +unappreciative, and he could not imagine any woman failing to admire +Hone. Besides, Mrs. Perceval and Hone were old friends, as everyone +knew. Was it not Hone who had escorted her to the East seven years ago +when she had left Home to join her elderly husband? By Jove, was it +really seven years since Perceval's beautiful young wife had taken them +all by storm? She looked a mere girl yet, though she had been three +years a widow. Small and dark and very regal was Nina Perceval, with the +hands and feet of a fairy and the carriage of a princess. He had seen +nothing of her during those last three years. She had been living a life +of retirement in the hills. But now she was going back to England and +was visiting her old haunts to bid her friends farewell. And Teddy +Duncombe found her as captivating as ever. She was more than beautiful. +She was positively dazzling.</p> + +<p>What a splendid pair she and Pat would make, Duncombe thought to himself +as he watched her. A man like Major Hone, V.C., ought to find a mate. +Every king should have a queen.</p> + +<p>The thought was still in his mind, possibly in his eyes also, when +abruptly Mrs. Perceval turned her head and caught him.</p> + +<p>"Taking notes, Captain Duncombe?" she asked, with a smile too careless +to be malicious.</p> + +<p>"Playing providence, Mrs. Perceval," he answered without embarrassment.</p> + +<p>He had never been embarrassed in her presence yet. She had a happy knack +of setting her friends at ease.</p> + +<p>"I hope you are preparing a kind fate for me," she said.</p> + +<p>He laughed a little. "What would you call a kind fate?"</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes flashed. She looked for a moment scornful. "Not the usual +woman's Utopia," she said. "I have been through that and come out on the +other side."</p> + +<p>"I can hardly believe it," protested Teddy.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know I am a cynic?" she said, with a little reckless laugh.</p> + +<p>A second wild shout from the spectators on all sides of them swept their +conversation away. On the further side of the ground Hone, with steady +wrist and faultless aim, had just sent the ball whizzing between the +posts.</p> + +<p>It was the end of the match, and Hone was once more the hero of the +hour.</p> + +<p>"Really, I sometimes think the gods are too kind to Major Hone," smiled +Mrs. Chester, the colonel's wife, and Mrs. Perceval's hostess. "It can't +be good for him to be always on the winning side."</p> + +<p>Hone was trotting quietly down the field, laughing all over his +handsome, sunburnt face at the cheers that greeted him. He dismounted +close to Mrs. Perceval, and was instantly seized by Duncombe and thumped +upon the back with all the force of his friend's goodwill.</p> + +<p>"Pat, old fellow, you're the finest sportsman in the Indian Empire. +Those chaps haven't been beaten for years."</p> + +<p>Hone laughed easily and swung himself free. "They've got some knowing +little brutes of ponies, by the powers," he said. "They slip about like +minnows. The Ace of Trumps was furious. Did you hear him squeal?"</p> + +<p>He turned with the words to his own pony and kissed the velvet nose that +was rubbing against his arm.</p> + +<p>"And a shame it is to make him carry a lively five tons," he murmured in +his caressing Irish brogue.</p> + +<p>For Hone was a giant as well as a hero and he carried his inches, as he +bore his honours, like a man.</p> + +<p>Raising his head, he encountered Mrs. Perceval's direct look. She bowed +to him with that regal air of hers that for all its graciousness yet +managed to impart a sense of remoteness to the man she thus honoured.</p> + +<p>"I have been admiring your luck, Major Hone," she said. "I am told you +are always lucky."</p> + +<p>He smiled courteously.</p> + +<p>"Sure, Mrs. Perceval, you can hardly expect me to plead guilty to that."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, you deserved your luck, Pat," declared Duncombe. "You played +superbly."</p> + +<p>"Major Hone excels in all games, I believe," said Mrs. Perceval. "He +seems to possess the secret of success."</p> + +<p>She spoke with obvious indifference; yet an odd look flashed across +Hone's brown face at the words. He almost winced.</p> + +<p>But he was quick to reply. "The secret of success," he said, "is to know +how to make the best of a beating."</p> + +<p>He was still smiling as he spoke. He met Mrs. Perceval's eyes with +baffling good-humour.</p> + +<p>"You speak from experience, of course?" she said. "You have proved it?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, that is another story," laughed Hone, hitching his pony's bridle +on his arm. "We live and learn, Mrs. Perceval. I have learnt it."</p> + +<p>And with that he bowed and passed on, every inch a soldier and to his +finger-tips a gentleman.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_II'></a><h3>II</h3> + +<p>"Hullo, Pat!"</p> + +<p>Teddy Duncombe, airily clad in pyjamas, stood a moment on the verandah +to peer in upon his major, then stepped into the room with the assurance +of one who had never yet found himself unwelcome.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, my son!" responded Hone, who, clad still more airily, was +exercising his great muscles with dumb-bells before plunging into his +morning tub.</p> + +<p>Duncombe seated himself to watch the operations with eyes of keen +appreciation.</p> + +<p>"By Jove," he said admiringly at length, "you are a mighty specimen! I +believe you'll live for ever."</p> + +<p>"Not on this plaguey little planet, let us trust!" said Hone, speaking +through his teeth by reason of his exertions.</p> + +<p>"You ought to marry," said Duncombe, still intently observant. "Giants +like you have no right to remain single in these degenerate days."</p> + +<p>"Faith!" scoffed Hone. "It's an age of feather-weights, and I'm out of +date entirely."</p> + +<p>He thumped down his dumb-bells, and stood up with arms outstretched. He +saw the open admiration in his friend's eyes, and laughed at it.</p> + +<p>But Duncombe remained serious.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you get married, Pat?" he said.</p> + +<p>Hone's arms slowly dropped. His brown face sobered. But the next instant +he smiled again.</p> + +<p>"Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly.</p> + +<p>"I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>"The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is +she young, my son, and lovely?"</p> + +<p>"She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all +sincerity.</p> + +<p>"Faith!" laughed the Irishman. "But that's heartfelt! Why don't you +enter for the prize yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to marry little Lucy Fabian as soon as she will have me," +explained Duncombe. "We settled that ages ago, almost as soon as she +came out. It's not a formal engagement even yet, but she has promised to +bear it in mind. We had a talk last night, and—I believe I haven't much +longer to wait."</p> + +<p>"Good luck to you, dear fellow!" said Hone. "You deserve the best." He +laid his hand for a moment on Duncombe's shoulder. "It's been a good +partnership, Teddy boy," he said. "I shall miss you."</p> + +<p>Teddy gripped the hand hard.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to get married yourself, Pat," he declared urgently. "It +isn't good for man to live alone."</p> + +<p>"And so you are going to provide for my future also," laughed Hone. +"And the lady's name?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's an old friend!" said Duncombe. "Can't you guess?"</p> + +<p>Hone shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine any old friend taking pity on me. Have you sounded her +feelings on the subject? Or perhaps she hasn't got any where I am +concerned."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, she has her feelings about you!" said Duncombe, with +confidence. "But I don't know what they are. She wasn't particularly +communicative on that point."</p> + +<p>"Or you, my son, were not particularly penetrating," suggested Hone.</p> + +<p>"I certainly didn't penetrate far," Duncombe confessed. "It was a case +of 'No admission to outsiders.' Still, I kept my eyes open on your +behalf; and the conclusion I arrived at was that, though reticent where +you were concerned, she was by no means indifferent."</p> + +<p>Hone stooped and picked up his dumb-bells once more.</p> + +<p>"Your conclusions are not always very convincing, Teddy," he remarked.</p> + +<p>Duncombe got to his feet in leisurely preparation for departure.</p> + +<p>"There was no mistake as to her reticence anyhow," he observed. "It was +the more conspicuous, as all the rest of us were yelling ourselves +hoarse in your honour. I was watching her, and she never moved her +lips, never even smiled. But her eyes saw no one else but you."</p> + +<p>Hone grunted a little. He was poising the dumb-bells at the full stretch +of his arms.</p> + +<p>Duncombe still loitered at the open window.</p> + +<p>"And her name is Nina Perceval," he said abruptly, shooting out the +words as though not quite certain of their reception.</p> + +<p>The dumb-bells crashed to the ground. Hone wheeled round. For a single +instant the Irish eyes flamed fiercely; but the next he had himself in +hand.</p> + +<p>"A pretty little plan, by the powers!" he said, forcing himself to speak +lightly. "But it won't work, my lad. I'm deeply grateful all the same."</p> + +<p>"Rats, man! She is sure to marry again." Duncombe spoke with deliberate +carelessness. He would not seem to be aware of that which his friend had +suppressed.</p> + +<p>"That may be," Hone said very quietly. "But she will never marry me. +And—faith, I'll be honest with you, Teddy, for the whole truth told is +better than a half-truth guessed—for her sake I shall never marry +another woman."</p> + +<p>He spoke with absolute steadiness, and he looked Duncombe full in the +eyes as he said it.</p> + +<p>A brief silence followed his statement; then impulsively Duncombe thrust +out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Hone, old chap, forgive me! I'm a headlong, blundering jackass!"</p> + +<p>"And the best friend a man ever had," said Hone gently. "It's an old +story, and I can't tell you all. It was just a game, you know; it began +in jest, but it ended in grim earnest, as some games do. It happened +that time we travelled out together, eight years ago. I was supposed to +be looking after her; but, faith, the monkey tricked me! I was a fool, +you see, Teddy." A faint smile crossed his face. "And she gave me an +elderly spinster to dance attendance upon while she amused herself. She +was only a child in those days. She couldn't have been twenty. I used to +call her the Princess, and I was St. Patrick to her. But the mischief +was that I thought her free, and—I made love to her." He paused a +moment. "Perhaps it's hardly fair to tell you this. But you're in love +yourself; you'll understand."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Duncombe said.</p> + +<p>"And she was such an innocent," Hone went on softly. "Faith, what an +innocent she was! Till one day she saw what had happened to me, and it +nearly broke her heart. For she hadn't meant any harm, bless her. It was +all a game with her, and she thought I was playing, too, till—till she +saw otherwise. Well, it all came to an end at last, and to save her from +grieving I pretended that I had known all along. I pretended that I had +trifled with her from start to finish. She didn't believe me at first, +but I made her—Heaven pity me!—I made her. And then she swore that she +would never forgive me. And she never has."</p> + +<p>Hone turned quietly away, and put the dumb-bells into a corner. Duncombe +remained motionless, watching him.</p> + +<p>"But she will, old chap," he said at last. "She will. Women do, you +know—when they understand."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Hone. "But she never can understand. I tricked her +too thoroughly for that." He faced round again, his grey eyes level and +very steady.</p> + +<p>"It's just my fate, Teddy," he said; "and I've got to put up with it. +However it may appear, the gods are not all-bountiful where I am +concerned. I may win everything in the world I turn my hand to, but I +have lost for ever the only thing I really want!"</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_III'></a><h3>III</h3> + +<p>It was two days later that Mrs. Chester decided to give what she termed +a farewell <i>fête</i> to all Nina Perceval's old friends. Nina had always +been a great favourite with her, and she was determined that the +function should be worthy of the occasion.</p> + +<p>To ensure success, she summoned Hone to her assistance. Hone always +assisted everybody, and it was well known that he invariably succeeded +in that to which he set his hand. And Hone, with native ingenuity, at +once suggested a water expedition by moonlight as far as the ruined +Hindu temple on the edge of the jungle that came down to the river at +that point. There was a spice of adventure about this that at once +caught Mrs. Chester's fancy. It was the very thing, she declared; a +water-picnic was so delightfully informal. They would cut for partners, +and row up the river in couples.</p> + +<p>To Nina Perceval the plan seemed slightly childish, but she veiled her +feelings from her friend as she veiled them from all the world; for very +soon it would be all over, sunk away in that grey, grey past into which +she would never look again. She even joined in conference with Mrs. +Chester and Hone over the details of the expedition, and if now and +then the Irishman's eyes rested upon her as though they read that which +she would fain have hidden, she never suffered herself to be +disconcerted thereby.</p> + +<p>When the party assembled on the eventful evening to settle the question +of partners, Hone was, as usual, in the forefront. The lots were drawn +under his management, not by his own choice, but because Mrs. Chester +insisted upon it. He presided over two packs of cards that had been +reduced to the number of guests. The men drew from one pack, the women +from the other; and thus everyone in the room was bound at length to +pair.</p> + +<p>Hone would have foregone this part of the entertainment, but the +colonel's wife was firm.</p> + +<p>"People never know how to arrange themselves," she declared. "And I +decline any responsibility of that sort. The Fates shall decide for us. +It will be infinitely more satisfactory in the end."</p> + +<p>And Hone could only bow to her ruling.</p> + +<p>Nina Perceval was the first to draw. Her card was the ace of hearts. She +slung it round her neck in accordance with Mrs. Chester's decree, and +sat down to await her destiny.</p> + +<p>It was some time in coming. One after another drew and paired in the +midst of much chaff and merriment; but she sat solitary in her corner +watching the pile of cards diminish while she remained unclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Most unusual!" declared Mrs. Chester. "Whom can the Fates be reserving +for you, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Nina had no answer to make. She sat with her dark eyes fixed upon the +few cards that were left in front of Hone, not uttering a single word. +He sat motionless, too, Teddy Duncombe, who had paired with his hostess, +standing by his side. He was not looking in her direction, but by some +mysterious means she knew that his attention was focussed upon herself. +She was convinced in her secret soul that, though he hid his anxiety, he +was closely watching every card in the hope that he might ultimately +pair with her.</p> + +<p>The last man drew and found his partner. One card only was left in front +of Hone. He laid his hand upon it, paused for an instant, then turned it +up. The ace of hearts!</p> + +<p>She felt herself stiffen involuntarily, and something within her began +to pound and race like the hoofs of a galloping horse. A brief agitation +was hers, which she almost instantly subdued, but which left her +strangely cold.</p> + +<p>Hone had risen from the table. He came quietly to her side. There was no +visible elation about him. His grey eyes were essentially honest, but +they were deliberately emotionless at that moment.</p> + +<p>In the hubbub of voices all about them he bent and spoke.</p> + +<p>"It may not be the fate you would have chosen; but since submit we +must, shall we not make the best of it?"</p> + +<p>She met his look with the aloofness of utter disdain.</p> + +<p>"Your strategy was somewhat too apparent to be ascribed to Fate," she +said. "I cannot imagine why you took the trouble."</p> + +<p>A dark flush mounted under Hone's tan. He straightened himself abruptly, +and she was conscious of a moment's sharp misgiving that was strangely +akin to fear. Then, as he spoke no word, she rose and stood beside him, +erect and regal.</p> + +<p>"I submit," she said quietly; "not because I must, but because I do not +consider it worth while to do otherwise. The matter is too unimportant +for discussion."</p> + +<p>Hone made no rejoinder. He was staring straight before him, stern-eyed +and still.</p> + +<p>But a few moments later, he gravely proffered his arm, and in the midst +of a general move they went out together into the moonlit splendour of +the Indian night.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_IV'></a><h3>IV</h3> + +<p>Slowly the boats slipped through the shallows by the bank.</p> + +<p>Hone sat facing his companion in unbroken silence while he rowed +steadily up the stream. But there was no longer anger in his steady +eyes. The habit of kindness, which was the growth of a lifetime, had +reasserted itself. He had not been created to fulfil a harsh destiny. +The chivalry at his heart condemned sternness towards a woman.</p> + +<p>And Nina Perceval sat in the stern with the moonlight shining in her +eyes and the darkness of a great bitterness in her soul, and waited. +Despite her proud bearing she would have given much to have looked into +his heart at that moment. Notwithstanding all her scorn of him very deep +down in her innermost being she was afraid.</p> + +<p>For this was the man who long ago, when she was scarcely more than a +child, had blinded her, baffled her, beaten her. He had won her trust, +and had used it contemptibly for his own despicable ends. He had turned +an innocent game into tragedy, and had gone his way, leaving her life +bruised and marred and bitter before it had ripened to maturity. He had +put out the sunshine for ever, and now he expected to be forgiven.</p> + +<p>But she would never forgive him. He had wounded her too cruelly, too +wantonly, for forgiveness. He had laid her pride too low. For even yet, +in all her furious hatred of him, she knew herself bound by a chain that +no effort of hers might break. Even yet she thrilled to the sound of +that soft, Irish voice, and was keenly, painfully aware of him when he +drew near.</p> + +<p>He did not know it, so she told herself over and over again. No one +knew, or ever would know. That advantage, at least, was hers, and she +would carry it to her grave. But yet she longed passionately, +vindictively, to punish him for the ruin he had wrought, to humble +him—this faultless knight, this regimental hero, at whose shrine +everybody worshipped—as he had once dared to humble her; to make him +care, if it were ever so little—only to make him care—and then to +trample him ruthlessly underfoot, as he had trampled her.</p> + +<p>She began to wonder how long he meant to maintain that uncompromising +silence. From across the water came the gay voices of their +fellow-guests, but no other boat was very near them. His face was in the +shadow, and she had no clue to his mood.</p> + +<p>For a while longer she endured his silence. Then at length she spoke:</p> + +<p>"Major Hone!"</p> + +<p>He started slightly, as one coming out of deep thought.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you make conversation?" she asked, with a little cynical +twist of the lips. "I thought you had a reputation for being +entertaining."</p> + +<p>"Will it entertain you if I ask for an apology?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>"An apology!" She repeated the words sharply, and then softly laughed. +"Yes, it will, very much."</p> + +<p>"And yet you owe me one," said Hone.</p> + +<p>"I fear I do not always pay my debts," she answered. "But you will find +it difficult to convince me on this occasion that the debt exists."</p> + +<p>"Faith, I shall not try!" he returned, with a doggedness that met and +overrode her scorn. "The game isn't worth the candle. I know you will +think ill of me in either case."</p> + +<p>"Why, Major Hone?"</p> + +<p>He met her eyes in the moonlight, and she felt as if by sheer force he +held them.</p> + +<p>"Because," he said slowly, "I have made it impossible for you to do +otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Surely that is no one's fault but your own?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I blame no one else," said Hone.</p> + +<p>And with that he bent again to his work as though he had been betrayed +into plainer speaking than he deemed advisable, and became silent again.</p> + +<p>Nina Perceval trailed her hand in the water and watched the ripples. +Those few words of his had influenced her strangely. She had almost for +the moment forgotten her enmity. But it returned upon her in the +silence. She began to remember those bitter years that stretched behind +her, the blind regrets with which he had filled her life—this man who +had tricked her, lied to her—ay, and almost broken her heart in those +far-off days of her girlhood, before she had learned to be cynical.</p> + +<p>"And even if I did believe you," she said, "what difference would it +make?"</p> + +<p>Hone was silent for a moment. Then—"Just all the difference in the +world," he said, his voice very low.</p> + +<p>"You value my good opinion so highly?" she laughed. "And yet you will +make no effort to secure it?"</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes upon her again.</p> + +<p>"I would move heaven and earth to win it," he said, and she knew by his +tone that he was putting strong restraint upon himself, "if there were +the smallest chance of my ever doing so. But I know my limitations; I +know it's all no good. Once a blackguard, always a blackguard, eh, Mrs. +Perceval? And I'd be a special sort of fool if I tried to persuade you +otherwise."</p> + +<p>But still she only laughed, in spite of the agitation but half-subdued +in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I would offer to steer," she remarked irrelevantly, "only I don't feel +equal to the responsibility. And since you always get there sooner or +later, my help would be superfluous."</p> + +<p>"You share the popular belief about my luck?" asked Hone.</p> + +<p>"To be sure," she answered gaily. "Even you could scarcely manage to +find fault with it."</p> + +<p>He drew a deep breath. "Not with you in the boat," he said.</p> + +<p>She withdrew her hand from the water, and flicked it in his face.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better slow down? You are getting overheated. I feel as if I +were sitting in front of a huge furnace."</p> + +<p>"And you object to it?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. It's unseasonable. You Irish are so tropical."</p> + +<p>"It's only by contrast," urged Hone. "You will get acclimatised in +time."</p> + +<p>She raised her head with a dainty gesture.</p> + +<p>"You take a good deal for granted, Major Hone."</p> + +<p>"Faith, I know it!" he answered. "It's yourself that has turned my +head."</p> + +<p>Her laugh held more than a hint of scorn.</p> + +<p>"How amusing," she commented, "for both of us!"</p> + +<p>"Does it amuse you?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>The question did not call for a reply, and she made none. Only once more +she gathered up some water out of the magic moonlit ripples, and tossed +it in his face.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_V'></a><h3>V</h3> + +<p>They reached their destination far ahead of any of the others. A thick +belt of jungle stretched down to the river where they landed, enveloping +both banks a little higher up the stream.</p> + +<p>"What an awesome place!" remarked Mrs. Perceval, as she stepped ashore. +"I hope the rest will arrive soon, or I shall develop an attack of +nerves."</p> + +<p>"You've got me to take care of you," suggested Hone.</p> + +<p>She uttered her soft, little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Faith, Major Hone, and I'm not at all sure that it isn't yourself I +want to run away from!"</p> + +<p>Hone was securing the boat, and made no immediate response. But as he +straightened himself, he laughed also.</p> + +<p>"Am I so formidable, then?"</p> + +<p>She flashed a swift glance at him.</p> + +<p>"I haven't quite decided."</p> + +<p>"You have known me long enough," he protested.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders lightly.</p> + +<p>"Have I ever met you before to-night? I have no recollection of it."</p> + +<p>And mutely, with that chivalry which was to him the very air he +breathed, Hone bowed to her ruling. She would have no reference to the +past. It was to be a closed book to them both. So be it, then! For this +night, at least, she would have her way.</p> + +<p>He stepped forward in silence into the chequered shadow of the trees +that surrounded the ruin, and she walked lightly by his side with that +dainty, regal carriage of hers that made him yet in his secret heart +call her his princess.</p> + +<p>The place was very dark and eerie. The shrill cries of flying-foxes, +disturbed by their appearance, came through the magic silence. But no +living thing was to be seen, no other sound to be heard.</p> + +<p>"I'm frightened," said Nina suddenly. "Shall we stop?"</p> + +<p>"Hold my hand!" said Hone.</p> + +<p>"I'm not joking," she protested, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"Nor am I," he said gently.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him sharply, as though she did not quite believe him, +and then unexpectedly and impulsively she laid her hand in his.</p> + +<p>His fingers closed upon it with a friendly, reassuring pressure, and she +never knew how the man's heart leapt and the blood turned to liquid fire +in his veins at her touch.</p> + +<p>She gave a shaky little laugh as though ashamed of her weakness. "We are +coming to an open space," she said. "We shall see the satyrs dancing +directly."</p> + +<p>"Faith, if we do, we'll join them," declared Hone cheerily.</p> + +<p>"They would never admit us," she answered. "They hate mortals. Can't you +feel them glaring at us from every tree? Why, I can breathe hostility in +the very air."</p> + +<p>She missed her footing as she spoke, and stumbled with a sharp cry. Hone +held her up with that steady strength of his that was ever equal to +emergencies, but to his surprise she sprang forward, pulling him with +her, almost before she had fully recovered her balance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, quick, quick!" she gasped. "I trod on something—something +that moved!"</p> + +<p>He went with her, for she would not be denied, and in a few seconds they +emerged into a narrow clearing in the jungle in which stood the ruin of +a small domed temple.</p> + +<p>Nina Perceval was shaking all over in a positive frenzy of fear, and +clinging fast to Hone's arm.</p> + +<p>"What was it?" he asked her, trying gently to disengage himself. "Was it +a snake that scared you?"</p> + +<p>She shuddered violently. "Yes, it must have been. A cobra, I should +think. Oh, what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"It's all right," Hone said soothingly. "You stay here a minute! I've +got some matches. I'll just go back a few yards and investigate."</p> + +<p>But at that she cried out so sharply that he thought for a moment that +something had hurt her. But the next instant he understood, and again +his heart leapt and strained within him like a chained thing.</p> + +<p>"No, Pat! No, no, no! You shall do no such thing!" Incoherently the +words rushed out, and with them the old familiar name, uttered all +unawares. "Do you think I'd let you go? Why, the place may be thronged +with snakes. And you—you have nothing to defend yourself with. How can +you dream of such a thing?"</p> + +<p>He heard her out with absolute patience. His face betrayed no sign of +the tumult within. It remained perfectly courteous and calm. Yet when he +spoke he, too, it seemed, had gone back to the old intimate days that +lay so far behind them.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but, Princess," he said, "what about our pals? If there is any +real danger we can't let them come stumbling into it. We'll have to warn +them."</p> + +<p>She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened. For an +instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something—was +it the expression in the man's steady eyes?—checked her.</p> + +<p>She stood a moment silent. Then, "You're quite right, Pat," she said, +her voice very low. "We'll go straight back to the boat and stop them."</p> + +<p>Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating.</p> + +<p>"You'll let me go first?" he said. "You stay here in the open! I'll come +back for you."</p> + +<p>But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated. "I won't!" she +declared vehemently. "I won't! Don't be so ridiculous! Of course I am +coming with you. Do you suppose I would let you go alone?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>He remembered later that she passed the question by. "We are wasting +time," she said, "Let us go!"</p> + +<p>And so together they went back into the danger that lurked in the +darkness.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_VI'></a><h3>VI</h3> + +<p>They went side by side, for she would not let him take the lead. Her +hand was in his, and he knew by its convulsive pressure something of the +sheer panic that possessed her. And he marvelled at the power that +nerved her, though he held his peace.</p> + +<p>They entered the dense shadow of the strip of jungle that separated them +from the stream, and very soon he paused to strike a match. She stood +very close to him. He was aware that she was trembling in every limb.</p> + +<p>He peered about him, but could see very little beyond the fact that the +path ahead of them lay clear. On both sides of this the undergrowth +baffled all scrutiny. He seemed to hear a small mysterious rustling +sound, but his most minute attention failed to locate it. The match +burned down to his fingers, and he tossed it away.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing between us and the water," he said cheerily. "We'll +make a dash for it."</p> + +<p>"Stay!" she whispered, under her breath. "I heard something!"</p> + +<p>"It's only a bit of a breeze overhead," said Hone. "We won't stop to +listen anyway."</p> + +<p>He caught her hand in his once more, grasping it firmly, and they moved +forward again. They could see the moonlight glimmering on the water +ahead, and in another yard or two the low-growing bush to which Hone had +moored the boat became visible.</p> + +<p>In that instant, with a jerk of terror, Nina stopped short. "Pat! What +is that?"</p> + +<p>Hone stood still. "There! Don't be scared!" he said soothingly. "What +would it be at all? There's nothing but shadow."</p> + +<p>"But there is!" she gasped. "There is! There! On the bank above the +boat! What is it, Pat? What is it?"</p> + +<p>Hone's eyes followed her quivering finger, discerning what appeared to +be a blot of shadow close to the bush above the water.</p> + +<p>"Sure, it's only shadow—" he began.</p> + +<p>But she broke in feverishly. "It's not, Pat! It's not! There's nothing +to cast it. It's in the full moonlight."</p> + +<p>"You stay here!" said Hone. "I'll go and have a look."</p> + +<p>"I won't!" she rejoined in a fierce whisper, holding him fast. "You—you +shan't go a step nearer. We must get away somehow—somehow!" with a +hunted glance around. "Not through the undergrowth, that's certain. +We—we shall have to go back."</p> + +<p>Hone was still staring at the motionless blot in the moonlight. He +resisted her frantic efforts to drag him away.</p> + +<p>"I must go and see," he said at last. "I'm sure there's nothing to alarm +us. We can't run away from shadows, Princess. We should never hold up +our heads again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Pat, you fool!" she exclaimed, almost beside herself. "I tell you +that is no shadow! It's a snake! Do you hear? It's a huge python! And it +was a snake I trod on just now. And they are everywhere—everywhere! The +whole place is rustling with them. They are closing in on us. I can hear +them! I can feel them! I can smell them! Pat, what shall we do? Quick, +quick! Think of something! See now! It's moving—uncoiling! Look, look! +Did you ever see anything so horrible? Pat!"</p> + +<p>Her voice ended in a breathless shriek. She suddenly collapsed against +him, her face hidden on his breast. And Hone, stooping impulsively, +caught her up in his arms.</p> + +<p>"We'll get out of it somehow," he said. "Never fear!"</p> + +<p>But even his eyes had widened with a certain horror, for the blot in the +moonlight was beyond question moving, elongating, quivering, subtly +changing under his gaze.</p> + +<p>He held his companion pressed tightly to his heart. She made no further +attempt to urge him. Only by the tense clinging of her arms about his +neck did he know that she was conscious.</p> + +<p>Again he heard that vague rustling which he had set down to a sudden +draught overhead. It seemed to come from all directions.</p> + +<p>"Ye gods!" he muttered softly to himself. And again, more softly, "Ye +gods!"</p> + +<p>To the woman in his arms he uttered no word whatever. He only pressed +the slender figure ever closer, while the blood surged and sang +tumultuously in his veins. Though he stood in the midst of mortal +danger, he was conscious of an exultation so mad as to be almost +delirious. She was his—his—his!</p> + +<p>Something stirred in the undergrowth close to him, and in a moment his +attention was diverted from the slow-moving monster ahead of him. He +became aware of a dark object, but vaguely discernible, that swayed to +and fro about three feet from the ground seeming to menace him.</p> + +<p>The moment he saw this thing, his brain flashed into sudden +illumination. The shrewdness of the hunted creature entered into him. +Without panic, he became most vividly, most intensely alive to the +ghastly danger that threatened him. He stopped to ascertain nothing +further. Swift as a lightning flash he acted—leapt backwards, leapt +sideways, landed upon something that squirmed and thrashed hideously, +nearly overthrowing him; and the next moment was breaking madly through +the undergrowth, regardless of direction, running blindly through the +jungle, fighting furiously every obstacle—forcing by sheer giant +strength a way for himself and for the woman he carried through the +opposing tangle of vegetation.</p> + +<p>Branches slapped him in the face as he went, clutched at him, tore him, +but could not stay his progress. Many times he stumbled, many times he +recovered himself, dashing wildly on and still on like a man possessed. +A marvellous strength was his. Titan-like, he accomplished that which to +any ordinary man would have been an utter impossibility. Save that he +was in perfect condition, even he must have failed. But that fact was +his salvation, that and the fierce passion that urged him, endowing him +with an endurance more than human.</p> + +<p>Headlong as was his flight, the working of his brain was even swifter, +and very soon, without slackening his speed, he was swerving round again +towards the open. He could see the moonlight gleaming through the trees, +and he made a dash for it, utterly reckless, since caution was of no +avail, but alert for every danger, cunning for every advantage, keen as +the born fighter for every chance that offered.</p> + +<p>And so at last, torn, bleeding, but undismayed, he struggled free from +the undergrowth, and sprang away from that place of horrors, staggering +slightly but running strongly still, till the dark line of jungle fell +away behind him and he reached the river bank once more.</p> + +<p>Here he stopped and loosened his grip upon the slight form he carried. +Her arms dropped from his neck. She had fainted.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds he stared down into her white face, seeing nothing +else, while the fiery heart of him leapt and quivered like a wild thing +in leash. Then, suddenly, from the water a voice hailed him, and he +looked up with a start.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Pat! What on earth is the matter? You have landed the wrong side +of the stream. Is anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>It was Teddy Duncombe in a boat below him. He saw his face of concern in +the moonlight.</p> + +<p>He pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"I was coming to warn you. This infernal jungle is full of snakes. We've +had to run for it, and leave the boat behind."</p> + +<p>"Great Scotland! And Mrs. Perceval?"</p> + +<p>Again Hone's eyes sought the white face on his arm.</p> + +<p>"No, she isn't hurt. It's just a faint. Pull up close, and I'll hand her +down to you!"</p> + +<p>Between them, they lowered her into the boat. Hone followed, and raised +her to lean against his knee.</p> + +<p>Duncombe began to row swiftly across the stream, with an uneasy eye upon +the two in the stern.</p> + +<p>"What in the world made you go wrong, I wonder?" he said. "No one ever +goes that side, not even the natives. They say it's haunted. We all +landed near the old bathing <i>ghat</i>."</p> + +<p>Hone was moistening Nina Perceval's face with his handkerchief. He made +no reply to Teddy's words. He was anxiously watching for some sign of +returning consciousness.</p> + +<p>It came very soon. The dark eyes opened and gazed up at him, at first +uncomprehendingly, then with a dawning wonder.</p> + +<p>"St. Patrick!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Princess!" he whispered back.</p> + +<p>With an effort she raised herself, leaning against him.</p> + +<p>"What happened? Were you hurt? Your face is all bleeding!"</p> + +<p>"It's nothing!" he said jerkily. "It's nothing!"</p> + +<p>She took his handkerchief in her trembling hand and wiped the blood +away. She said no more of any sort. Only when she gave it back to him +her eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>And Hone caught the little hand in passionate, dumb devotion, and +pressed it to his lips.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_VII'></a><h3>VII</h3> + +<p>"I am so sorry, Major Hone, but she is seeing no one. I would ask you to +dine if it would be of any use. But you wouldn't see her if I did."</p> + +<p>So spoke the colonel's wife three days later in a sympathetic undertone; +while Hone paced beside her <i>rickshaw</i> with a gloomy face.</p> + +<p>"She isn't ill?" he asked. "You are sure she isn't ill?"</p> + +<p>"No, not really ill. Her nerves are upset, of course. That was almost +inevitable. But she has determined to start for Bombay on Monday, and +nothing I can say will make her change her purpose."</p> + +<p>"But she can't mean to go without saying good-bye!" he protested.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chester shook her head.</p> + +<p>"She says she doesn't like good-byes. I had the greatest difficulty in +persuading her to come here at all. I am afraid that is exactly what she +does mean to do."</p> + +<p>Hone stood still. His face was suddenly stubborn.</p> + +<p>"I must see her," he said, "with her consent or without it. Will you, of +your goodness, ask me to dine tonight? I will manage the rest for +myself."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chester looked somewhat dubious. Long as she had known Hone, she +was not familiar with this mood.</p> + +<p>He saw her hesitation, and smiled upon her persuasively.</p> + +<p>"You are not going to refuse my petition? It isn't yourself that would +have the heart!"</p> + +<p>She laughed, in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, go away, you wheedling Irishman! Yes, you may dine if you like. The +Gerrards are coming for bridge, and you'll be odd man out. There will be +no one to entertain you."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I can entertain myself," grinned Hone. "And it's truly grateful +that I am to your worshipful ladyship."</p> + +<p>He bowed, with his hand upon his heart, and, turning, went his way.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chester went hers, still vaguely doubtful as to the wisdom of her +action. In common with the rest of mankind, she found Hone well-nigh +impossible to resist.</p> + +<p>When he made his appearance that evening, he presented an absolutely +serene aspect to the world at large. He was the gayest of the party, and +Mrs. Chester's uneasiness speedily evaporated. Nina Perceval was not +present, but this fact apparently did not depress him. He remained in +excellent spirits throughout dinner.</p> + +<p>When it was over, and the bridge players were established on the +veranda, he drifted off to the smoking-room in an aimless, inconsequent +fashion, and his hostess and accomplice saw him no more.</p> + +<p>She would have given a good deal to have witnessed his subsequent +movements, but she would have been considerably disappointed had she +done so, for Hone's methods were disconcertingly direct. All he did when +he found himself alone was to sit down and scribble a brief note.</p> + +<p>"I am waiting to see you" (so ran his message). "Will you come to me +now, or must I follow you to the world's end? One or the other it will +surely be.—Yours, PAT."</p> + +<p>This note he delivered to the <i>khitmutgar</i>, with orders to return to him +with a reply. Then, with a certain massive patience, he resumed his +cigar and settled himself to wait.</p> + +<p>The <i>khitmutgar</i> did not return, but he showed no sign of exasperation. +His eyes stared gravely into space. There was not a shade of anxiety in +them.</p> + +<p>And it was thus that Nina Perceval found him when at last she came +lightly in from the veranda in answer to his message. She entered +without the smallest hesitation, but with that regal air of hers before +which men did involuntary homage. Her shadowy eyes met his without fear +or restraint of any sort, but they held no gladness either. Her +remoteness chilled him.</p> + +<p>"Why did you send me that extraordinary message?" she said. "Wasn't it a +little unnecessary?"</p> + +<p>He had risen to meet her. He paused to lay aside his cigar before he +answered, and in the pause that dogged expression that had surprised +Mrs. Chester descended like a mask and covered the first spontaneous +impulse to welcome her that had dominated him.</p> + +<p>"It was necessary that I should see you," he said.</p> + +<p>"I really don't know why," she returned. "I wrote a note to thank you +for the care you took of me the other night. That was days ago. I +suppose you received it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I received it," said Hone. "I have been trying, without success, +to see you ever since."</p> + +<p>She made a slight impatient movement.</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen any one. I was upset after that horrible adventure. I +shouldn't be seeing you now, only your ridiculous note made me wonder if +there was anything wrong. Is there?"</p> + +<p>She faced him with the direct inquiry. There was a faint frown between +her brows. Her delicate beauty possessed him like a charm. He felt his +blood begin to quicken, but he kept himself in check.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing wrong, Princess," he said steadily. "I am, as ever, +your humble servant, only I've got to come to the point with you before +you go. I've got to make the most of this shred of opportunity which you +have given me against your will. You are not disposed to be generous, I +see; but I appeal to your sense of justice. Is it fair play at all to +fling a man into gaol, and to refuse to let him plead on his own +behalf?"</p> + +<p>The annoyance passed like a shadow from her face. She began to smile.</p> + +<p>"What can you mean?" she said. "Is it a joke—a riddle? Am I supposed to +laugh?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me, no!" he said. "There is only one woman in the world +that I can't trifle with, and that's yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but what an admission!" She laughed at him, softly mocking. "And +I'm so fond of trifling, too. Then what can you possibly want with me? I +suppose you have really called to say good-bye."</p> + +<p>"No," said Hone. He spoke quickly, and, as he spoke, he leaned towards +her. A deep glow had begun to smoulder in his eyes. "It's something else +that I've come to say—something quite different. I've come to tell you +that you are all the world to me, that I love you with all there is of +me, that I have always loved you. Yes, you'll laugh at me. You'll think +me mad. But if I don't take this chance of telling you, I'll never have +another. And even if it makes no difference at all to you, I'm bound to +let you know."</p> + +<p>He ceased. The fire that smouldered in his eyes had leaped to lurid +flame; but still he held himself in check, he subdued the racing madness +in his veins. He was, as ever, her humble servant.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she realized it, for she showed no sign of shrinking as she +stood before him. Her eyes grew a little wider and a little darker, that +was all.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to say to you, Major Hone," she said, after a +moment. "I don't know even what you expect me to say, since you +expressly tell me that you are not trifling."</p> + +<p>"Faith!" he broke in impetuously. "And is it trifling I'd be with the +only woman I ever loved or ever wanted? I'm not asking you to flirt. I'm +asking a bigger thing of you than that. I'm asking you—Princess, I'm +asking you to stay—and be my wife."</p> + +<p>He drew nearer to her, but he made no attempt to touch her. Only the +flame of his passion seemed to reach her, to scorch her, for she made a +slight movement away from him.</p> + +<p>She looked at him doubtfully. "I still don't know what to say," she +said.</p> + +<p>His face altered. With a mighty effort he subdued the fiery impulse that +urged him to override her doubts and fears, to take and hold her in his +arms, to make her his with or without her will.</p> + +<p>He became in a trice the kindly, winning personality that all his world +knew and loved. "Sure then, you're not afraid of me?" he said, as though +he softly cajoled a child. "It wouldn't be yourself at all if you were, +you that could tread me underfoot like a centipede and not be a mite the +worse."</p> + +<p>She smiled a little, smiled and uttered a sudden quick sigh. "Don't you +think you are rather a fool, Pat?" she said. "I gave you credit for more +shrewdness. You certainly had more once."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" There was a sharp note of pain in Hone's voice.</p> + +<p>She moved restlessly across the room and paused with her back to him. +"None but a fool would conclude that because a woman is pretty she must +be good as well," she said, a tremor of bitterness in her voice. "Why do +you take it for granted in this headlong fashion that I am all that man +could desire?"</p> + +<p>"You are all that I want," he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "The woman who lived inside me died long ago," she +said, "and a malicious spirit took her place."</p> + +<p>"None but yourself would ever dare to say that to me," said Hone. "And I +won't listen even to you. Princess—"</p> + +<p>"You are not to call me that!" She rounded upon him suddenly, a fierce +gleam in her eyes. "You must never—never—"</p> + +<p>She broke off. He was close to her, with that on his face that stilled +her protest. He gathered her to him with a tenderness that yet was +irresistible.</p> + +<p>"Sure, then," he whispered, with a whimsical humour that cloaked all +deeper feeling, "you shall be my queen instead, for by the saints I +swear that in some form or other I was created to be your slave."</p> + +<p>And though she averted her face and after a moment withdrew herself from +his arms, she raised no further protest. She suffered him to plant the +flag of his supremacy unhindered.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_VIII'></a><h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>Certainly the colonel's wife was in her element. A wedding in the +regiment, and that the wedding of its idolized hero, was to her an +affair of almost more importance than anything that had happened since +her own. The church had been fully decorated under her directions, and +she had turned it into as elegant a reception room as circumstances +permitted. White favours had been distributed to the dusky warriors +under Hone's command who lined the aisle. All was in readiness, from the +bridegroom, resplendent in scarlet and gold, waiting in the chancel with +Teddy Duncombe, the best man, to the buzzing guests who swarmed in at +the west door to be received by the colonel's wife, who in her capacity +of hostess seemed to be everywhere at once.</p> + +<p>"She was quite ready when I left, and looking sweet," so ran the story +to one after another. "Oh, yes, in her travelling dress, of course. That +had to be. But quite bridal—the palest silver grey. She looks quite +charming, and such a girl. No one would ever think—" and so on, to +innumerable acquaintances, ending where she had begun—"yes, she was +quite ready when I left, and looking sweet!"</p> + +<p>Ready or not, she was undoubtedly late, as is the recognised custom of +brides all the world over. The organist, who had been playing an +impressive selection, was drawing to the end of his resources and +beginning to improvise somewhat spasmodically. The bridegroom betrayed +no impatience, but there was undeniable strain in his attitude. He stood +stiff and motionless as a soldier on parade. The guests were commencing +to peer and wonder. Mrs. Chester made her tenth pilgrimage to the door.</p> + +<p>Ah! The carriage at last! She turned back with a beaming face, and +rustled up the aisle as though she were the heroine of the occasion. A +flutter of expectation went through the church. The organist plunged +abruptly into "The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden."</p> + +<p>Everyone rose. Everyone craned towards the door. The carriage, with its +flying favours, was stopping, had stopped. The colonel was seen +descending.</p> + +<p>He was looking very pale, whispered someone. Could anything be wrong? He +was not wont to suffer from nervousness.</p> + +<p>He did not turn to assist the bride. Surely that was strange! Nor did +she follow him. Surely—surely the carriage behind him was empty!</p> + +<p>Something indeed had happened. She must be ill! A great tremor went +through the waiting crowd. No one was singing, but the music pealed on +and on till some wild rumour of disaster reached the waiting chaplain, +and he stepped across the chancel and touched the organist's shoulder.</p> + +<p>Instantly silence fell—a terrible, nerve-racking silence. Colonel +Chester had entered. He stood just within the door, pale and stern, +whispering to the officer in charge of the men. People stared at him, at +each other, at the bridegroom still standing motionless by the chancel +steps. And then at last the silence broke into a murmur that spread and +spread. Something had happened! Something was wrong! No, the bride was +not ill. But there would be no wedding that day.</p> + +<p>Someone came hurriedly and spoke to Teddy Duncombe, who turned first +crimson, then very white, and finally pulled himself together with a +jerk and went to Hone. Everyone craned to see what would happen—how the +news would affect him, whether he would be deeply shocked, or +whether—whether—ah! A great sigh went through the church. He did not +seem startled or even greatly dismayed. He listened to Duncombe gravely, +but without any visible discomfiture. There could not be anything very +serious the matter, then. A note was put into his hand, which he read +with absolute calmness under the eyes of the multitude.</p> + +<p>When he looked up from it, the colonel had reached his side. They +exchanged a few words, and then Hone, smiling faintly, beckoned to the +chaplain. He rested a hand on his shoulder in his careless, friendly +way, and spoke into his ear.</p> + +<p>The chaplain looked deeply concerned, nodded once or twice, and, +straightening himself, faced the crowd of guests.</p> + +<p>"I am requested to state," he announced in the midst of dead silence, +"that, owing to a most regrettable and unforeseen mischance, the happy +event which we are gathered here to celebrate must be unavoidably +postponed. The bride has just received an urgent summons to England on a +matter of the first importance, which she feels compelled to obey, and +she is already on her way to Bombay in the hope of catching the steamer +which will sail to-morrow. It only remains for me to express deep +sympathy, in which I am sure all present join me, with our friend Major +Hone and his bride-elect on their disappointment, and the sincere hope +that their happy union may not long be deferred."</p> + +<p>He ended with a doubtful glance at Hone, who, standing on the chancel +steps, bowed briefly, and, taking Duncombe by the shoulder, marched with +him into the vestry. He certainly did not look in the least disconcerted +or anxious. It could not be anything really serious. A feeling of relief +lightened the atmosphere. People began to talk, to speculate, even to +enjoy the sensation. Poor Hone! He was not often unlucky. But, of +course, it would be all right. He would probably follow his bride to +England, and they would be married there. Doubtless that was his +intention, or he could not have looked so undismayed.</p> + +<p>So ran the tide of gossip and surmise. And in Hone's pocket lay the +twisted note which the woman he loved had left behind—the note which he +had read with an unmoved countenance under a host of watching eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, St. Patrick! It has been an amusing game, has it not? Do you +remember how you beat me once long ago? I was but a child in those days. +I did not know the rules of the game, and so you had the advantage. But +you could not hope to have it always. It is my turn now, and I think I +may claim the return match for my own. So good-bye, Achilles! Perhaps +the gods will send you better luck next time. Who knows?"</p> + +<p>No eye but Hone's ever read that heartless note, and his but once. Half +an hour after he had received it, it lay in ashes, but every word of it +was graven deep upon his brain.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_IX'></a><h3>IX</h3> + +<p>It was in the early hours of the morning that Nina Perceval reached +Bombay.</p> + +<p>She had sat wide-eyed and motionless all through the night. She had felt +no desire to sleep. An intense horror of her surroundings seemed to +possess her. She was like a hunted creature seeking to escape from a +world of horrors. She would know no rest till she reached the sea, till +she was speeding away over the glittering water, and the land—that land +which had become more hateful to her than any prison—was left far +behind.</p> + +<p>She had played her game, she had sped her shaft, and now panic—sheer, +unreasoning panic—filled her. She was terrified at what she had done, +too terrified yet for coherent thought. She had taken her revenge at +last. She had pierced her conqueror to the heart. As he had once laughed +at her, as he had once, with a smile and a jest, broken and tossed her +aside—so she had done to him. She had gathered up her wounded pride, +and she had smitten him therewith. She was convinced that he would never +laugh at her again.</p> + +<p>He would get over it, of course; men always did. She had known men by +the score who played the same merry game, men who broke hearts for +sport and went their careless ways, unheeding, uncomprehending. It was +the way of the world, this world of countless tragedies. She had +learned, in her piteous cynicism, to look for nothing else. Faithfulness +had become to her a myth. Surely all men loved—they called it love—and +rode away.</p> + +<p>No, she did not flatter herself that she had hurt him very seriously. +She had dealt his pride a blow, that was all.</p> + +<p>She reached Bombay, and secured her berth. The steamer was to sail at +noon. There were not a great many passengers, and she managed to engage +a cabin to herself. But she could not even attempt to rest in that +turmoil of noise and excitement. She went ashore again, and repaired to +a hotel for a meal. She took a private room, and lay down; but sleep +would not come to her, and presently, urged by that gnawing +restlessness, she was pacing up and down, up and down, like a wild +creature newly caged.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she paused at the window to stare down into the busy +thoroughfare below, but she never paused for long. The fever that +consumed her gave her no rest, and again she was pacing to and fro, to +and fro, eternally, counting the leaden minutes that crept by so slowly.</p> + +<p>At last, when flesh and blood could endure no longer, she snatched up +her hat and veil, and prepared to go on board. Standing before a mirror, +she began to adjust these with trembling fingers, but suddenly stopped +dead, gazing speechlessly before her. For her own eyes had inadvertently +met the eyes of the haggard woman in the glass, and dumbly, with a new +horror clutching at her heart, she stared into their wild depths and +read as in a book the tale of torture that they held.</p> + +<p>When she turned away at length, she was shivering from head to foot as +though she had seen a spectre; and so in truth she had. For those eyes +had told her what she had not otherwise begun to realise.</p> + +<p>That which she had believed dead for so long had been, only dormant, and +had sprung to sudden, burning life. The weapon with which she had +thought to pierce her enemy had turned in her grasp and pierced her +also, pierced her with an agony unspeakable—ay, pierced her to the +heart.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_X'></a><h3>X</h3> + +<p>As one in a dream she stood on deck and watched India slipping below the +horizon. Her restlessness was subsiding at last. She was conscious of an +intense weariness, greater than any she had ever known. As soon as that +distant line of land had disappeared she told herself that she would go +and rest. Her fellow passengers had for the most part settled down. They +sat about in groups under the awning. A few, like herself, stood at the +rail and gazed astern, but there was no one very near her. She felt as +if she stood utterly alone in all the world.</p> + +<p>Slowly at last she turned away. Slowly she crossed the deck and began to +descend the companion. A knot of people stood talking at the foot. They +made way for her to pass. She went through them without a glance. She +scarcely even saw them.</p> + +<p>She went to her cabin and lay down, but she knew at once that sleep +would not come to her. Her eyes burned as though weighted with many +scalding tears, but she could not weep. She could only lie staring +vaguely before her, and dumbly endure that suffering which she had +vainly fancied could never again be her portion. She could only +strive—and strive in vain—to shut out the vision of the man she loved +standing alone at the altar waiting for the woman who had played him +false.</p> + +<p>The dinner hour approached. Mechanically she rose and dressed. She did +not shrink from meeting the eyes of strangers. They simply did not exist +for her. She took her place in the great dining saloon, looking neither +to right nor left. The buzz of conversation all around her passed her +by. She might have been sitting in utter solitude. And all the while the +misery gnawed ever deeper into her heart.</p> + +<p>She rose at last, before the meal was ended, and went up to the great +empty deck. She felt as if she would stifle below. But, up above, the +wash of the sea and the immensity of the night soothed her somewhat. She +found a secluded corner, and leaned upon the rail, gazing out over the +black waste of water.</p> + +<p>What was he doing, she wondered. How was he spending this second night +of misery? Had he begun to console himself already? She tried to think +so, but failed—failed utterly.</p> + +<p>Irresistibly the memory of the man swept over her, his gentleness, his +chivalry, his unfailing kindness. She was beginning to see the whole +bitter tragedy by the light of her repentance. He had loved her, surely +he had loved her in those old days when she had tricked him in sheer, +childish gaiety of soul. And, for her sake, that her suffering might be +the briefer, he had masked his love. She had never thought so before, +but she saw it clearly now.</p> + +<p>It had all been a miserable misunderstanding from beginning to end, but +she was sure, now, that he had loved her faithfully for all those years. +And if it were against all reason to think so, if all her experience +told her that men were not moulded thus, had not his chosen friend +declared him to be one in ten thousand, and did not her quivering +woman's heart know him to be such? Ah, what had she done? What had she +done?</p> + +<p>"Oh, Pat!" she sobbed. "Pat! Pat! Pat!"</p> + +<p>The great idol of her pride had fallen at last, and she wept her heart +out up there in the darkness, till physical exhaustion finally overcame +her, and she could weep no more.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XI'></a><h3>XI</h3> + +<p>"Won't you sit down?" a quiet voice said.</p> + +<p>She started out of what was almost a stupor of grief, to find a man's +figure standing close to her. Her eyes were all blinded by weeping, and +she could see him but vaguely in the dimness. She had not heard him +approach. He seemed to appear from nowhere. Or had he, perchance, been +near her all the time?</p> + +<p>Instinctively she drew a little away from him, though in that moment of +utter desolation even the sympathy of a stranger sent a faint warmth of +comfort to her heart.</p> + +<p>"There is a chair here," the quiet voice went on, and as she turned +vaguely, almost as though feeling her way, a steady hand closed upon her +elbow and guided her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was the touch that, like the shock of an electric current, +sent the blood suddenly tingling through her veins, or it may have been +some influence more subtle. She was yielding half-mechanically when +suddenly, piercing her through and through, there came to her such a +flash of revelation as almost deprived her for the moment of her +senses.</p> + +<p>She stood stock still and faced him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, who is it?" she cried piteously. "Who is it?"</p> + +<p>The hand that held her tightened ever so slightly. He did not instantly +reply, but when he did, it was on a note of grimness that she had never +heard from him before.</p> + +<p>"It is I—Pat," he told her. "Have you any objection?"</p> + +<p>She gazed at him speechlessly as one in a dream. He had followed her, +then; he had followed her! But wherefore?</p> + +<p>She began to tremble in the grip of sudden, overmastering fear. This was +the last thing she had anticipated. What could it mean? Had she driven +him demented? Had he pursued her to wreak his vengeance upon her, +perhaps to kill her?</p> + +<p>Compelled by the pressure of his hand, she moved to the dark seat he had +indicated, and sank down.</p> + +<p>He stood beside her, looming large in the gloom. A terrible silence fell +between them. Worn out by sleeplessness and bitter weeping, she cowered +before him dumbly. She had no pride left, no weapon of any sort +wherewith to resist him. She longed, yet dreaded unspeakably, to hear +his voice. He was watching her, she knew, though she did not dare to +raise her head.</p> + +<p>He spoke at last, quietly, without emotion, yet with that in his +deliberate utterance that made her shrink and quiver in every nerve.</p> + +<p>"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't +beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play +to a finish before we decide who scoops the pool."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>He did not answer her, and she thought there was something contemptuous +in his silence.</p> + +<p>She waited a little, summoning her strength, then, rising, with a +desperate courage she faced him.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you. Tell me what you mean!"</p> + +<p>He made a curious gesture as if he would push her from him.</p> + +<p>"I am not good at explaining myself," he said. "But you will understand +me better presently."</p> + +<p>And again inexplicably she shrank. There was that about him which +terrified her more than any uttered menace.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" she said nervously. "Why—why have you +followed me?"</p> + +<p>He answered her in a tone which she deemed scoffing. It was too dark for +her to see his face.</p> + +<p>"You can hardly expect me to show my hand at this stage," he said. "You +never showed me yours."</p> + +<p>It was true, and she found no word to say against it. But none the less, +she was horribly afraid. She felt herself to be utterly at his mercy, +and was instinctively aware that he was in no mood to spare her.</p> + +<p>"I can't go on playing, Pat," she said, after a moment, her voice very +low. "I have no cards left to play."</p> + +<p>"In that case you are beaten," he said, with that doggedness which she +was beginning to know as a part of his fighting equipment. "Do you own +it?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Do you own it?" he insisted sternly.</p> + +<p>And, yielding to a sudden impulse that overwhelmed all reason, she threw +herself unreservedly upon his mercy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I own it."</p> + +<p>He stood silent for several seconds after the admission, while she +waited with a thumping heart. At last, half-grudgingly it seemed to her, +he spoke.</p> + +<p>"You are a wise woman," he said, "even wiser than I took you for, which +is saying much. The game is ended, then. But you will pardon me if I +refuse to surrender my winnings. Such as they are, I value them."</p> + +<p>She bent her head. Her subjection was complete. She was too exhausted, +physically and mentally, to attempt to withstand him, and undoubtedly +the ultimate victory was his. Had he not witnessed those agonizing +tears?</p> + +<p>"You are welcome to anything you can find," she said, smiling wanly. "I +suppose all experience is of value. At least, I used to think so."</p> + +<p>Again for a moment he was silent. Then: "It is the most valuable thing +in the world," he said, "if you know how to turn it to account. But, +sure, that is a lesson that some of us are slow to learn."</p> + +<p>He paused; then, as she remained silent, "You are going below to rest?" +he said. "Don't let me keep you! You have travelled hard, and need it."</p> + +<p>There was a hint of the old kindliness in his tone. She stood listening +to it, longing, yet not daring to avail herself of it and make her peace +with him.</p> + +<p>But, whatever his intentions, it was apparently no part of Hone's plan +to allow himself to be conciliated at that stage, for, after the +briefest pause, he bowed abruptly and stepped aside.</p> + +<p>And Nina Perceval went humbly away, as befitted one who had played a +desperate game, and had been outwitted by the adversary she had dared to +despise.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XII'></a><h3>XII</h3> + +<p>During the whole three weeks of the voyage Hone took no further action.</p> + +<p>Nina saw him every day of those interminable weeks, but he made no sign. +He did not seek her out, neither did he avoid her, but continually he +mystified her by the cheery indifference of his bearing.</p> + +<p>He became—as was almost inevitable—an immense favourite on board. He +was in the thick of every amusement, and no entertainment was complete +without him. No rumour of the extraordinary circumstances that had led +to his undertaking the voyage had reached their fellow passengers. No +one suspected that anything unusual existed between the winning, +frank-faced Irishman and the silent young widow who so seldom looked his +way. No one had heard of the wedding party that had lacked a bride.</p> + +<p>But everyone welcomed Hone, V.C., as a tremendous acquisition, and Hone, +V.C., laughed his humorous, good-tempered laugh, and placed himself +unreservedly and impartially at everyone's disposal.</p> + +<p>Nina never saw him in private. In public he treated her with the kindly +courtesy he extended to every woman on board. There was not in his +manner the faintest hint of anything deeper. He would laugh into her +eyes with absolute friendliness. And yet from the depths of her soul she +feared him. She knew that he was continuing the game that she had +wantonly begun. She knew that there was more to come, that he had not +done with her, that he was merely waiting, as an experienced player +knows how to wait, till the time arrived to play his final card.</p> + +<p>What that final card could be she had not the remotest idea, but she +awaited it with an almost morbid sense of dread. His very forbearance +seemed ominous.</p> + +<p>On the night before their arrival there was a dance on board. Nina, who +had not joined in any of these gaieties for the simple reason that she +had no heart for them, rose from dinner with the intention of going to +her cabin. But as she passed out of the saloon, Hone stepped forward and +intercepted her.</p> + +<p>"Will you give me a dance, Mrs. Perceval?"</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with an effort.</p> + +<p>"I am not dancing," she said.</p> + +<p>"Just one," he pleaded, with that air of gallantry that cloaked she knew +not what.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, and then, almost in spite of herself, with something of +the old regal graciousness, she yielded.</p> + +<p>"Just one, then, Major Hone, since to-morrow it will be good-bye."</p> + +<p>He thanked her with a deep bow, and promptly led her away.</p> + +<p>They danced the first waltz together in unbroken silence. Nina kept her +face studiously turned over her shoulder. Not once did she glance at her +partner, whose quiet dancing and steady arm told her nothing.</p> + +<p>When it was over, he led her to a seat in full view of the other +dancers, and sat down beside her. For a few seconds he maintained his +silence, then quietly he turned and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to stay in London?"</p> + +<p>The direct question surprised her. Somehow, though he had given her +small reason to do so, she had come to expect naught but subtle strategy +from him.</p> + +<p>"I shall spend one night there," she said, after a moment's thought.</p> + +<p>"No longer?"</p> + +<p>She faced him calmly, though her heart had begun to leap and race within +her.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you answer?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>He was smiling faintly, but there was determination in the set of his +jaw.</p> + +<p>"Because," she said slowly, "I am not sure that I want you to know."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Hone. She shook her head in silence. "It's sorry I am to +hear it," he said, after a brief pause. "For if it's to be a game of +hide-and-seek I shall soon run you to earth."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows. Had they been alone together she knew that she +could not have disguised her fear. It had grown upon her marvellously of +late. But the publicity of their intercourse endued her with a certain +courage.</p> + +<p>"What is it that you want of me?" she said.</p> + +<p>He met her eyes with absolute steadiness.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," he said, "the next time we meet."</p> + +<p>She tried to laugh to hide the wild tumult his words stirred up.</p> + +<p>"Is that a promise?"</p> + +<p>"My solemn bond," said Hone.</p> + +<p>She rose.</p> + +<p>"I shall stay at the Seton Ward Hotel for a week," she said. +"Good-night!"</p> + +<p>He rose also; they stood for a moment face to face.</p> + +<p>"Alone?" he asked.</p> + +<p>And again, with a reckless sense of throwing herself upon his mercy, she +made brief reply.</p> + +<p>"I haven't a friend in the world."</p> + +<p>He gave her his arm.</p> + +<p>"Any enemies?" he asked.</p> + +<p>They were at the door before she answered.</p> + +<p>"Yes—one."</p> + +<p>For an instant his arm grew tense, detaining her.</p> + +<p>"And that?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She withdrew her hand sharply.</p> + +<p>"Myself," she said, and swiftly, without another glance, she left him.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XIII'></a><h3>XIII</h3> + +<p>The roar of the London traffic rose muffled through the London fog. It +was a winter afternoon of great murkiness.</p> + +<p>In the private sitting-room of a private hotel Nina Perceval sat alone, +as she had sat for two dragging, intolerable days, and waited. She had +begun to ask herself—she had asked herself many times that day—if she +waited in vain. She would remain for the week, whatever happened, but +the torture of suspense had become such as she scarcely knew how to +endure. Something of the fever of restlessness that had tormented her at +Bombay was upon her now, but with it, subtly mingled, was a misery of +uncertainty that had not gripped her then. She was unspeakably lonely, +and at certain panic-stricken times unspeakably afraid; but whether it +was the possibility of his presence or the certainty of his continued +absence that appalled her, she could not have said.</p> + +<p>A fire burned with a cheery crackling in the room, throwing weird +shadows through the dimness. Yet she shivered from time to time as +though the chill of the London fog penetrated to her bones. Ah! what was +that? She startled violently at the sound of a low knock at the door, +then hastily commanded herself. It was only a waiter with the tea she +had ordered, of course. With her back to the door she bade him enter.</p> + +<p>But, though the door opened and someone entered, there came no jingle of +tea things. She did not turn her head. It was as though she could not. +She was as one turned to stone. She thought that the wild throbbing of +her heart would choke her.</p> + +<p>He came straight to her and stood beside her, not offering to touch so +much as her hand. The red firelight beat upwards on his face. She +ventured a single glance at him, and was oddly shocked by the look he +wore. Something of the red glow on the hearth shone back at her from his +eyes. She did not dare to look again. Yet when he spoke, though he +uttered no greeting, his voice was quite normal, wholly free from +agitation.</p> + +<p>"I should have been here sooner, but I was scouring London for an old +friend. I have found him at last, but, faith, I've had a chase. Do you +remember Jasper Caldicott, the parson who went out with us on the +<i>Scindia</i> eight years ago?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember him." She spoke with a strong effort. Her lips felt +stiff and cold.</p> + +<p>"He has a parish Whitechapel way," said Hone. "I only found him out this +morning. I wanted to bring him to see you."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" At his abrupt pause she moved slightly. "But he wouldn't come?"</p> + +<p>"He will come some day," said Hone. "But he had some scruple about +accompanying me there and then, as I wished. In fact, he wants you to +visit him instead."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" She almost whispered the word. She was holding the mantelpiece +with both hands to steady her trembling limbs.</p> + +<p>"Sure, there's nothing to alarm you at all," Hone said. "It'll soon be +over. He wants you to do him the honour of being married in his church +and there's a taxi below waiting to take you."</p> + +<p>"Now?" She turned and faced him, white to the lips.</p> + +<p>"Yes, now! By special licence." Sternly he made reply, and again she +felt as though the fire in his eyes scorched her.</p> + +<p>"And if I—refuse?" She stood up to her full height, flinging her fear +from her with a royal gesture that was almost a challenge.</p> + +<p>But Hone was ready for her. Hone, the gentle, the kind, the chivalrous, +stepped suddenly forth from his garden of virtues with level lance to +meet her.</p> + +<p>"By the powers," he said, and the words came from between his teeth, "I +wonder you dare to ask me that!"</p> + +<p>She laughed, but her laughter was slightly hysterical, and in an instant +he seized and pressed his advantage.</p> + +<p>"It is the end of the game," he grimly told her. "And you are beaten. +You told me once that you didn't always pay your debts. But, by Heaven, +you shall pay this one!"</p> + +<p>By sheer weight he beat down her resistance. Against her will, in spite +of her utmost effort, she gave way before him.</p> + +<p>A moment she stood in silence. Then, "So be it!" she said, and, turning, +left him.</p> + +<p>When she joined him again she was so thickly veiled that he could not +see her face. She preceded him without a word into the lift, and they +went down in utter silence to the waiting taxi. Then side by side +through the gloom as though they travelled through space, a myriad +lights twinkling all about them, the rush and roar of a universe in +their ears, but they two alone in an atmosphere that none other +breathed.</p> + +<p>It was a journey that neither ever afterwards calculated by time. It was +incalculable as the flight of a meteor. And when at last it came to an +end, for an instant neither moved.</p> + +<p>Then, as though emerging from a dream, Hone rose and alighted, and +turned to give his hand to his companion. A little group of ragged +urchins stood to view upon the muddy pavement. There was no other pomp +to attend the coming of a bride.</p> + +<p>Silently they entered a church that was lighted from end to end for +evening service. They passed up the aisle through a haze of fog. They +halted at the chancel steps....</p> + +<p>The knot of urchins had grown to a considerable crowd when they emerged. +Women and half-grown girls jostled each other for a glimpse of the +bride. But the utmost that any saw was a slender figure wearing a thick +veil that walked a little apart from the bridegroom, and entered the +waiting motor unassisted.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XIV'></a><h3>XIV</h3> + +<p>Back once more in the room where the fire crackled, newly replenished, +and electric light revealed a shining tea-table, Hone turned to the +silent woman beside him.</p> + +<p>"Can I write a message? I promised to send one to Teddy as soon as we +were married."</p> + +<p>She pointed to the writing-table; and moved herself to the fire. There +she stood for a few seconds quite motionless, seeming to listen to the +scratching of his pen.</p> + +<p>He ceased to write, and turned in his chair. For a moment his eyes +rested upon her.</p> + +<p>"Take off your hat!" he said.</p> + +<p>She obeyed him in utter silence. Her hands were stiff and numb with +cold. She stooped, the firelight shining on her hair, and held them to +the blaze.</p> + +<p>Hone rose quietly, and came to her side. He held his message for her to +read, and she did so silently.</p> + +<p>"Just married. All well. Love.—PAT."</p> + +<p>"Will it do?" he said.</p> + +<p>She glanced up at him and shivered.</p> + +<p>"Is all well?" she asked, in a tone that demanded no answer.</p> + +<p>He made none, merely rang the bell and gave orders for the despatch of +the message.</p> + +<p>Then he came quietly back to her. They stood face to face. She was quite +erect, but pale to the lips. She stood before him as a prisoner awaiting +sentence, too proud to ask for mercy.</p> + +<p>Hone paused a few moments, as if to give her time to speak, to challenge +him, to make her defence, or to plead her weakness. Then, as she did +none of these things, he suddenly laid steady hands upon her, drew her +to him, and, bending, looked closely into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"And is there any reason at all why I should not take what is my own?" +he said.</p> + +<p>She did not resist him, but a long shiver went through her.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure it is worth the taking?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Quite sure," he answered quietly. "Shall I tell you how I know?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes sank before his.</p> + +<p>"You will do exactly as you choose."</p> + +<p>He was silent for an instant, still intently searching her white face. +Then:</p> + +<p>"Do you remember that night that you fainted in my arms?" he said. "Do +you remember opening your eyes in the boat? Do you know—can you +guess—what your eyes told me?"</p> + +<p>She was silent; only again from head to foot she shivered.</p> + +<p>He went on very quietly, as one absolutely sure of himself:</p> + +<p>"I looked into your soul that night, and I saw your secret hidden away +in its darkest corner. And I knew it had been there for a long, long +time. I knew from that moment that, hate me as you might, you were mine, +as I have been yours for so long as I have known you."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes suddenly, stiffening in his grasp.</p> + +<p>"And you expect me to believe that of you?" she said, a tremor that was +not of fear, in her voice.</p> + +<p>"You do believe it," he answered with conviction.</p> + +<p>She raised her hands with something of her old imperious grace, and laid +them on his arms, freeing herself with a single gesture.</p> + +<p>"And all those years ago," she said, "when you made me believe you had +been trifling with me—"</p> + +<p>"I lied!" said Hone. "It was the hardest thing I ever did. But something +had to be done. I did it to save you suffering."</p> + +<p>She turned abruptly from him, moving blindly, till groping, she found +the mantelpiece, and leaned upon it. Then, her back to him, she spoke:</p> + +<p>"And you succeeded in breaking my heart."</p> + +<p>A sudden silence fell. Hone stood motionless, his hands fallen to his +sides. The dull roar of the streets beat up through the stillness like +the roar of a distant sea, bringing to mind a night long, long ago when +first he had met his little princess, when first the gay charm of her +personality had been cast upon him.</p> + +<p>With a resolute effort he spoke.</p> + +<p>"But you were scarcely more than a child," he said. "It—sure, it +couldn't have been as bad as that?"</p> + +<p>At the sound of the pain in his voice she slowly turned.</p> + +<p>"It was much worse than that," she said. "While it lasted, it was +intolerable. There were times when I thought it would drive me crazy. +But you—you were always there, and I think the sight of you kept me +sane. I hated you so. I had to show you that I didn't care."</p> + +<p>Again he heard in her voice that tremor that was not of fear.</p> + +<p>"As long as my husband lived," she went on, "I kept up the miserable +farce. As you know, we never loved each other. Then he died, and I found +I couldn't bear it any longer. There was no reason why I should. I went +away. I should never have seen you again, only Mrs. Chester would take +no refusal. And I had put it all away from me by that time. I felt it +did not greatly matter if we did meet. Nothing seemed of much importance +till that day I saw you on the polo ground, carrying all before +you—Achilles triumphant! That day I began to hate you again." A faint +smile drew the corners of her mouth. "I think you suspected it," she +said, "but your suspicions were soon lulled to rest. Did it never cross +your mind to wonder how we came to pair on that night of the river +picnic? I accused you of cheating, do you remember? And you were quite +indignant." A glimmer of the old gay mischief shone for a fleeting +second through her tragedy. "That was the first move in the game," she +said. "At least you never suspected me of that."</p> + +<p>"No; you had me there." There was a ring of sternness in Hone's voice. +"So that was the beginning?" he said.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"And it would have been the end also, if you would have suffered it. For +that very night I ceased to hate you." A faint flush tinged her pale +face. "I would have let you off," she said. "I didn't want to go on. But +you would not have it so. You came after me. You wouldn't leave me +alone, even though I warned you—I warned you that I wasn't worth your +devotion. And so"—again her voice trembled—"you had to have your +lesson after all."</p> + +<p>"And do you know what it has taught me?"</p> + +<p>Again there sounded in his voice that new mastery that had so strangely +overwhelmed her.</p> + +<p>She shrank a little as it reached her, and turned her face aside. "I can +guess," she said.</p> + +<p>"And is it good at guessing that you are?"</p> + +<p>He drew nearer to her with the words, but he did not offer to touch her.</p> + +<p>She stood motionless, her head bent lest he should see, and understand, +the piteous quivering of her lips. With immense effort she made reply:</p> + +<p>"It has taught you to hate and despise me, as—as I deserve."</p> + +<p>"Faith!" he said. "You think that—honestly now?"</p> + +<p>The mastery had all gone out of his voice. It was soft with that +caressing quality she knew of old—that tenderness, half-humorous, +half-persuasive, that had won her heart so long, so long ago. She did +not answer him—for she could not.</p> + +<p>He waited for the space of a score of seconds, standing close to her, +yet still not touching her, looking down in silence at the proud dark +head abased before him.</p> + +<p>At last: "It's myself that'll have to tell you, after all," he said +gently, "for sure it's the only way to make you understand. It's taught +me that we can both be winners, dear, if we play the game squarely, just +as we have both been losers all these weary years. But we will have to +be partners from this day forward. So just put your little hand in mine, +and it'll be all right, mavourneen! Pat'll understand!"</p> + +<p>She moved at that—moved sharply, convulsively, passionately. For a +moment her eyes met his; for a moment she seemed on the verge of amazed +questioning, even of vehement protest.</p> + +<p>But—perhaps the grey eyes that looked straight and steadfast into her +own made speech seem unnecessary—for she only whispered, "St. +Patrick!" in a voice that trembled and broke.</p> + +<p>And "Princess! My Princess!" was all he answered as he took her into his +arms.</p> +<br> +<br> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13553 ***</div> +</body> +</html> 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..3a135af --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #13553 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/13553) diff --git a/old/13553-8.txt b/old/13553-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c067f6c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13553-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10581 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Tidal Wave and Other Stories, by Ethel +May 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 Tidal Wave and Other Stories + +Author: Ethel May Dell + +Release Date: September 29, 2004 [eBook #13553] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Jonathan Niehof, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + +THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +ETHEL M. DELL + +Author of _The Lamp in the Desert_, _The Hundredth Chance_, +_Greatheart_, etc. + +1919 + + + + + + + +BY ETHEL M. DELL + + The Way of an Eagle + The Knave of Diamonds + The Rocks of Valpré + The Swindler + The Keeper of the Door + Bars of Iron + Rosa Mundi + The Hundredth Chance + The Safety Curtain + Greatheart + The Lamp in the Desert + The Tidal Wave + The Top of the World + The Obstacle Race + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT + +Three stories in this volume, "The Magic Circle," "The Woman of his +Dream," and "The Return Game," were first published in The Red Magazine. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE TIDAL WAVE + +THE MAGIC CIRCLE + +THE LOOKER-ON + +THE SECOND FIDDLE + +THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM + +THE RETURN GAME + + + + + + +THE TIDAL WAVE + + + +CHAPTER I + +STILL WATERS + + +Rufus the Red sat on the edge of his boat with his hands clasped between +his knees, staring at nothing. His nets were spread to dry in the sun; +the morning's work was done. Most of the other men had lounged into +their cottages for the midday meal, but the massive red giant sitting on +the shore in the merciless heat of noon did not seem to be thinking of +physical needs. + +His eyes under their shaggy red brows were fixed with apparent +concentration upon his red, hairy legs. Now and then his bare toes +gripped the moist sand almost savagely, digging deep furrows; but for +the most part he sat in solid contemplation. + +There was only one other man within sight along that sunny stretch of +sand--a small, dark man with a shaggy, speckled beard and quick, +twinkling eyes. He was at work upon a tangled length of tarred rope, +pulling and twisting with much energy and deftness to straighten out the +coil, so that it leaped and writhed in his hands like a living thing. + +He whistled over the job cheerily and tunelessly, glancing now and again +with a keen, birdlike intelligence towards the motionless figure twenty +yards away that sat with bent head broiling in the sun. His task seemed +a hopeless one, but he tackled it as if he enjoyed it. His brown hands +worked with a will. He was plainly one to make the best of things, and +not to be lightly discouraged--a man of resolution, as the coxswain of +the Spear Point lifeboat needed to be. + +After ten minutes of unremitting toil he very suddenly ceased to whistle +and sent a brisk hail across the stretch of sand that intervened between +himself and the solitary fisherman on the edge of the boat. + +"Hi--Rufus--Rufus--ahoy!" + +The fiery red head turned in his direction without either alacrity or +interest. The fixed eyes came out of their trance-like study and took in +the blue-jerseyed, energetic figure that worked so actively at the +knotted hemp. There was something rather wonderful about those eyes. +They were of the deep, intense blue of a spirit-fed flame--the blue of +the ocean when a storm broods below the horizon. + +He made no verbal answer to the hail; only after a moment or two he got +slowly to his feet and began leisurely to cross the sand. + +The older man did not watch his progress. His brown, lined face was +bent again over his task. + +Rufus the Red drew near and paused. "Want anything?" + +He spoke from his chest, in a voice like a deep-toned bell. His arms +hung slack at his sides, but the muscles stood out on them like ropes. + +The coxswain of the lifeboat gave his head a brief, upward jerk without +looking at him. "That curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said, +"he came messing round after me this morning, wanted to know would I +take him out with the nets one day. I told him maybe you would." + +"What did you do that for?" said Rufus. + +The coxswain shot him a brief and humorous glance. "I always give you +the plums if I can, my boy," he said. "I said to him, 'Me and my son, +we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with +me, and p'raps a bit better, for he's got the better boat.' So he +sheered off, and said maybe he'd look you up in the evening." + +"Maybe I shan't be there," commented Rufus. + +The coxswain chuckled, and lashed out an end of rope, narrowly missing +his son's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that +chap," he observed. "Not by no manner of means. Do you know what +Columbine thinks of him?" + +"How should I know?" said Rufus. + +He stooped with an abrupt movement that had in it a hint of savagery, +and picked up the end of rope that lay jerking at his feet. + +"Tell you what, Adam," he said. "If that chap values his health he'll +keep clear of me and my boat." + +Everyone called the coxswain Adam, even his son and partner, Rufus the +Red. No two men could have formed a more striking contrast than they, +but their partnership was something more than a business relation. They +were friends--friends on a footing of equality, and had been such ever +since Rufus--the giant baby who had cost his mother her life--had first +closed his resolute fist upon his father's thumb. + +That was five-and-twenty years ago now, and for eighteen of those years +the two had dwelt alone together in their cottage on the cliff in +complete content. Then--seven years back--Adam the coxswain had +unexpectedly tired of his widowed state and taken to himself a second +wife. + +This was Mrs. Peck, of The Ship, a widow herself of some years' +standing, plump, amiable, prosperous, who in marrying Adam would have +gladly opened her doors to Adam's son also had the son been willing to +avail himself of her hospitality. + +But Rufus had preferred independence in the cottage of his birth, and in +this cottage he had lived alone since his father's defection. + +It was a dainty little cottage, perched in an angle of the cliff, well +apart from all the rest and looking straight down upon the great Spear +Point. He tended the strip of garden with scrupulous care, and it made +a bright spot of colour against the brown cliff-side. A rough path, +steep and winding, led up from the beach below, and about half-way up a +small gate, jealously padlocked in the owner's absence, guarded Rufus's +privacy. He never invited any one within that gate. Occasionally his +father would saunter up with his evening pipe and sit in the little +porch of his old home looking through the purple clematis flowers out to +sea while he exchanged a few commonplace remarks with his son, who never +broke his own silence unless he had something to say. But no other +visitor ever intruded there. + +Rufus had acquired the reputation of a hermit, and it kept all the rest +at bay. He had lived his own life for so long that solitude had grown +upon him as moss clings to a stone. He did not seem to feel the need of +human companionship. He lived apart. + +Sometimes, indeed, he would go down to The Ship in the evening and +lounge in the bar with the rest, but even there his solitude still +wrapped him round. He never expanded, however genial the atmosphere. + +The other men treated him with instinctive respect. He was powerful +enough to thrash any two of them, and no one cared to provoke him to +wrath. For Rufus in anger was a veritable mad bull. + +"Leave him alone! He's not safe!" was the general advice and warning of +his fellows, and none but Adam ever interfered with him. + +Just recently, however, Adam had begun to take a somewhat quizzical +interest in the welfare of his son. It had been an established custom +ever since his second marriage that Rufus should eat his Sunday dinner +at the family table down at The Ship. Mrs. Peck--Adam's wife was never +known by any other title, just as the man's own surname had dropped into +such disuse that few so much as knew what it was--had made an especial +point of this, and Rufus had never managed to invent any suitable excuse +for refusing. He never remained long after the meal was eaten. When all +the other fisher-lads were walking the cliffs with their own particular +lasses, Rufus was wont to trudge back to his hermitage and draw his +mantle of solitude about him once more. He had never walked with any +lass. Whether from shyness or surliness, he had held consistently aloof +from such frivolous pastimes. If a girl ever cast a saucy look his way +the brooding blue eyes never seemed aware of it. In speech with +womenkind he was always slow and half-reluctant. That his great +bull-like physique could by any means be an object of admiration was a +possibility that he never seemed to contemplate. In fact, he seemed +expectant of ridicule rather than appreciation. + +In his boyhood he had fought several tough fights with certain lads who +had dared to scoff at his red hair. Sam Jefferson, who lived down on +the quay, still bore the marks of one such battle in the absence of two +front teeth. But he did not take affront from womenkind. He looked over +their heads, and went his way in massive unconcern. + +But lately a change had come into his life--such a change as made Adam's +shrewd dark eyes twinkle whenever they glanced in his son's direction, +comprehending that the days of Rufus's tranquillity were ended. + +A witch had come to live at The Ship, such a witch as had never before +danced along the Spear Point sands. Her name was Maria Peck, and she was +the daughter of Mrs. Peck's late lamented husband's vagabond brother--"a +seafaring man and a wastrel if ever there was one," as Mrs. Peck was +often heard to declare. He had picked up with and eventually married a +Spanish pantomime girl up London way, so Mrs. Peck's information went, +and Maria had been the child of their union. + +No one called her Maria. Her mother had named her Columbine, and +Columbine she had become to all who knew her. Her mother dying when she +was only three, Columbine had been left to the sole care of her wastrel +father. And he, then a skipper of a small cargo steamer plying across +the North Sea, had placed her in the charge of a spinster aunt who kept +an infants' school in a little Kentish village near the coast. Here, up +to the age of seventeen, Columbine had lived and been educated; but the +old schoolmistress had worn out at last, and on her death-bed had sent +for Mrs. Peck, as being the girl's only remaining relative, her father +having drifted out of her ken long since. + +Mrs. Peck had nobly risen to the occasion. She had no daughter of her +own; she could do with a daughter. But when she saw Columbine she sucked +up her breath. + +"My, but she'll be a care!" was her verdict. + +"She don't know--how lovely she is," the dying woman had whispered. +"Don't tell her!" + +And Mrs. Peck had staunchly promised to keep the secret, so far as lay +in her power. + +That had happened six months before, and Columbine was out of mourning +now. She had come into the Spear Point community like a shy bird, a +little slip of a thing, upright as a dart, with a fashion of holding her +head that kept all familiarity at bay. But the shyness had all gone now. +The girlish immaturity was fast vanishing in soft curves and tender +lines. And the beauty of her!--the beauty of her was as the gold of a +summer morning breaking over a pearly sea. + +She was a creature of light and laughter, but there were in her odd +little streaks of unconsidered impulse that testified to a passionate +soul. She would flash into a temper over a mere trifle, and then in a +moment flash back into mirth and amiability. + +"You can't call her bad-tempered," said Mrs. Peck. "But she's +sharp--she's certainly sharp." + +"Ay, and she's got a will of her own," commented Adam. "But she's your +charge, missus, not mine. It's my belief you'll find her a bit of a +handful before you've done. But don't you ask me to interfere! It's none +o' my job." + +"Lor' bless you," chuckled Mrs. Peck, "I'd as soon think of asking +Rufus!" + +Adam grunted at this light reference to his son. "Rufus ain't such a +fool as he looks," he rejoined. + +"Lor' sakes! Whoever said he was?" protested the equable Mrs. Peck. +"I've a great respect for Rufus. It wasn't that I meant--not by any +manner o' means." + +What she had meant did not transpire, and Adam did not pursue the +subject to inquire. He also had a respect for Rufus. + +It was not long after that brief conversation that he began to notice a +change in his son. He made no overtures of friendship to the dainty +witch at The Ship, but he took the trouble to make himself extremely +respectable when he made his weekly appearance there. He kept his shag +of red hair severely cropped. He attired himself in navy serge, and wore +a collar. + +Adam's keen eyes took in the change and twinkled. Columbine's eyes +twinkled too. She had begun by being almost absurdly shy in the presence +of the young fisherman who sat so silently at his father's table, but +that phase had wholly passed away. She treated him now with a kindly +condescension, such as she might have bestowed upon a meek-souled dog. +All the other men--with the exception of Adam, whom she frankly +liked--she overlooked with the utmost indifference. They were plainly +lesser animals than dogs. + +"She'll look high," said Mrs. Peck. "The chaps here ain't none of her +sort." + +And again Adam grunted. + +He was fond of Columbine, took her out in his boat, spun yarns for her, +gave her such treasures from the sea as came his way--played, in fact, a +father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to +assume no authority over her. That responsibility was reserved for Mrs. +Peck, whose kindly personality made the bare idea seem absurd. + +And so to a very great extent Columbine had run wild. But the warm +responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a general rule, and +Mrs. Peck's government was by no means exacting. + +"Thank goodness, she's not one to run after the men!" was her verdict +after the first six months of Columbine's sojourn. + +That the men would have run after her had they received the smallest +encouragement to do so was a fact that not one of them would have +disputed. But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance, and none +had so far attempted to cross the invisible boundary that she had so +decidedly laid down. + +And then with the summer weather had come the stranger--had come Montagu +Knight. Young, handsome, and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one +day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along the coast from +Spearmouth, on the other side of the Point. And the next day he came +again to stay. + +He had been there for nearly three weeks now, and he seemed to have +every intention of remaining. He was an artist, and the sketches he made +were numerous and--like himself--full of decision. He came and went +among the fishermen's little thatched cottages, selecting here, refusing +there, exactly according to fancy. + +They had been inclined to resent his presence at first--it was certainly +no charitable impulse that moved Adam to call him "the curly-topped +chap"--but now they were getting used to him. For there was no +gainsaying the fact that he had a way with him, at least so far as the +women-folk of the community were concerned. + +He could keep Mrs. Peck chuckling for an hour at a time in the evening, +when the day's work was over. And Columbine--Columbine had a trill of +laughter in her voice whenever she spoke to him. He liked to hear her +play the guitar and sing soft songs in the twilight. Adam liked it too. +He was wont to say that it reminded him of a young blackbird learning to +sing. For Columbine was as yet very shy of her own talent. She kept in +the shallows, as it were, in dread of what the deep might hold. + +Knight was very kind to her, but he was never extravagant in his praise. +He was quite unlike any other man of her acquaintance. His touch was +always so sure. He never sought her out, though he was invariably quite +pleased to see her. The dainty barrier of pride that fenced her round +did not exist for him. She did not need to keep him at a distance. He +could be intimate without being familiar. + +And intimate he had become. There was no disputing it. From the first, +with his easy _savoir-faire_, he had waived ceremony, till at length +there was no ceremony left between them. He treated her like a lady. +What more could the most exacting demand? + +And yet Adam continued to call him "the curly-topped chap," and turned +him over to his son Rufus when he requested permission to go out in his +boat. + +And Rufus--Rufus turned with a gesture of disgust after the utterance of +his half-veiled threat, and spat with savage emphasis upon the sand. + +Adam uttered a chuckle that was not wholly unsympathetic, and began +deftly to coil the now disentangled rope. + +"Do you know what I'd do--if I was in your place?" he said. + +Rufus made a sound that was strictly noncommittal. + +Adam's quick eyes flung him a birdlike glance. "Why don't you come along +to The Ship and smoke a pipe with your old father of an evening?" he +said. "Once a week's not enough, not, that is, if you--" He broke off +suddenly, caught by a whistle that could not be resisted. + +Rufus was regarding the horizon with those brooding eyes of vivid blue. + +Abruptly Adam ceased to whistle. "When I was a young chap," he said, "I +didn't keep my courting for Sundays only. I didn't dress up, mind you. +That weren't my way. But I'd go along in my jersey and invite her out +for a bit of a cruise in the old boat. They likes a cruise, Rufus. You +try it, my boy! You try it!" + +The rope lay in an orderly coil at his feet, and he straightened +himself, rubbing his hands on his trousers. His son remained quite +motionless, his eyes still fixed as though he heard not. + +Adam stood up beside him, shrewdly alert. He had never before ventured +to utter words of counsel on this delicate subject. But having started, +he was minded to make a neat job of it. Adam had never been the man to +leave a thing half done. + +"Go to it, Rufus!" he said, dropping his voice confidentially. "Don't be +afraid to show your mettle! Don't be crowded out by that curly-topped +chap! You're worth a dozen of him. Just you let her know it, that's +all!" + +He dug his hands into his trousers pockets with the words, and turned to +go. + +Rufus moved then, moved abruptly as one coming out of a dream. His eyes +swooped down upon the lithe, active figure at his side. They held a +smile--a fiery smile that gleamed meteor-like and passed. + +"All right, Adam," he said in his deep-chested voice. + +And with a sidelong nod Adam wheeled and departed. He had done his +morning's work. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE PASSION-FLOWER + + +"Where's that Columbine?" said Mrs. Peck. + +A gay trill like the call of a blackbird in the dawning answered her. +Columbine, with a pink sun-bonnet over her black hair, was watering the +flowers in the little conservatory that led out of the drawing-room. She +had just come in from the garden, and a gorgeous red rose was pinned +upon her breast. Mrs. Peck stood in the doorway and watched her. + +The face above the red rose was so lovely that even her matter-of-fact +soul had to pause to admire. It was a perpetual wonder to her and a +perpetual fascination. The dark, unawakened eyes, the long, perfect +brows, the deep, rich colouring, all combined to make such a picture as +good Mrs. Peck realised to be superb. + +Again the pure contralto trill came from the red lips, and then, with a +sudden movement that had in it something of the grace of an alighting +bird, Columbine turned, swinging her empty can. + +"I've promised to take Mr. Knight to the Spear Point Caves by +moonlight," she said. "He's doing a moonlight study, and he doesn't +know the lie of the quicksand." + +"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Peck. "What made him ask you? There's Adam +knows every inch of the shore better nor what you do." + +"He didn't ask," said Columbine. "I offered. And I know the shore just +as well as Adam does, Aunt Liza. Adam himself showed me the lie of the +quicksand long ago. I know it like my own hand." + +Mrs. Peck pursed her lips. "I doubt but what you'd better take Adam +along too," she said. "I wouldn't feel easy about you. And there won't +be any moonlight worth speaking of till after ten. It wouldn't do for +you to be traipsing about alone even with Mr. Knight--nice young +gentleman as he be--at that hour." + +"Aunt Liza, I don't traipse!" Momentary indignation shone in the +beautiful eyes and passed like a gleam of light. "Dear Aunt Liza," +laughed Columbine, "aren't you funny?" + +"Not a bit," maintained Mrs. Peck. "I'm just common-sensical, my dear. +And it ain't right--it never were right in my young day--to go walking +out alone with a man after bedtime." + +"A man, Aunt Liza! Oh, but a man! An artist isn't a man--at least, not +an ordinary man." There was a hint of earnestness in Columbine's tone, +notwithstanding its lightness. + +But Mrs. Peck remained firm. "It wouldn't make it right, not if he was +an angel from heaven," she declared. + +Columbine's gay laugh had in it that quality of youth that surmounts all +obstacles. "He's much safer than an angel," she protested, "because he +can't fly. Besides, the Spear Point Caves are all on this side of the +Point. You could watch us all the time if you'd a mind to." + +But Mrs. Peck did not laugh. "I'd rather you didn't go, my dear," she +said. "So let that be the end of it, there's a good girl!" + +"Oh, but I--" began Columbine, and broke off short. "Goodness, how you +made me jump!" she said instead. + +Rufus, his burly form completely blocking the doorway, was standing half +in and half out of the garden, looking at her. + +"Lawks!" said Mrs. Peck. "So you did me! Good evening, Rufus! Are you +wanting Adam?" + +"Not specially," said Rufus. He entered, with massive, lounging +movements. "I suppose I can come in," he remarked. + +"What a question!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck. + +Columbine said nothing. She picked up her empty watering-can and swung +it carelessly on one finger, hunting for invisible weeds in the +geranium-pots the while. + +Mrs. Peck was momentarily at a loss. She was not accustomed to +entertaining Rufus in his father's absence. + +"Have a glass of mulberry wine!" she suggested. + +"Columbine, run and fetch it, dear! It's in the right-hand corner, third +shelf, of the cupboard under the stairs. I'm sure you're very welcome," +she added to Rufus, "but you must excuse me, for I've got to see to Mr. +Knight's dinner." + +"That's all right, Mother," said Rufus. + +He always called her mother; it was a term of deference with him rather +than affection. But Mrs. Peck liked him for it. + +"Sit you down!" she said hospitably. "And mind you make yourself quite +at home! Columbine will look after you. You'll be staying to supper, I +hope?" + +"Thanks!" said Rufus. "I don't know. Where's Adam?" + +"He's chopping a bit of wood in the yard. He don't want any help. You'll +see him presently. You stop and have a chat with Columbine!" said Mrs. +Peck; and with a smile and nod she bustled stoutly away. + +When Columbine returned with the mulberry wine and a glass on a tray the +conservatory was empty. She set down her tray and paused. + +There was a faintly mutinous curve about her soft lips, a gleam of +dancing mischief in her eyes. + +In a moment a step sounded on the path outside, and Rufus reappeared. He +had been out to fill her watering-can, and he deposited it full at her +feet. + +"Don't put it there!" she said, with a touch of sharpness. "I don't want +to tumble over it, do I? Thank you for filling it, but you needn't have +troubled. I've done." + +"Then it'll come in for tomorrow," said Rufus, setting the can +deliberately in a corner. + +Columbine turned to pour out a glass of Mrs. Peck's mulberry wine. + +"Only one glass?" said Rufus. + +She threw him a quizzing smile over her shoulder. "Well, you don't want +two, do you?" + +"No," said Rufus slowly. "But I don't drink--alone." + +She gave a low, gurgling laugh. "You'll be saying you don't smoke alone +next. If you want someone to keep you company, I'd better fetch Adam." + +She turned round to him with the words, offering the glass on the tray. +Her eyes were lowered, but the upward curl of the black lashes somehow +conveyed the impression that she was peeping through them. The tilt of +the red lips, with the pearly teeth just showing in a smile, was of so +alluring an enchantment that the most level-headed of men could scarcely +have failed to pause and admire. + +Rufus paused so long that at last she lifted those glorious eyes of hers +in semi-scornful interrogation. + +"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Don't you want it?" + +He made an odd gesture as of one at a loss to explain himself. "Won't +you drink first?" he said, his voice very low. + +"No, thank you," said Columbine briskly. "I don't like it." + +"Then--I don't like it either," he said. + +"Don't be silly!" she said. "Of course you do! I know you do! Take it, +and don't be ridiculous!" + +But Rufus turned away with solid resolution. "No, thanks," he said. + +Columbine set down the tray again with a hint of exasperation. "You're +just like a child," she said severely. "A great, overgrown boy, that's +what you are!" + +"All right," said Rufus, propping himself against the door-post. + +"It's not all right. It's time you grew up." Columbine picked up the +full glass, and, carrying it daintily, advanced upon him. "I suppose I +shall have to make you take it like medicine," she remarked. + +She stood against the door-post, facing him, upright, slender, exquisite +as an opening flower. + +"Drink, puppy, drink!" she said flippantly, and elevated the glass +towards her guest's somewhat grim lips. + +The sombre blue eyes came down to her with something of a flash. And in +the same moment Rufus's great right hand disengaged itself from his +pocket and grasped the slim wrist of the hand that held the wine. + +"You drink--first!" said Rufus, and guided the glass with unmistakable +resolution to the provocative red lips. + +She jerked back her head to avoid it, but the doorpost against which she +stood checked the backward movement. Before she could prevent it the +wine was in her mouth. + +She flung up her free hand and would have knocked the glass away, but +Rufus could be prompt of action when he chose. He caught it from her and +drained it almost in the same movement. Not a drop was spilt between +them. He set down the glass on a shelf of the conservatory, and propped +himself up once more with his hands in his pockets. + +Columbine's face was burning red; her eyes literally blazed. Her whole +body vibrated as if strung on wires. "How--dare you?" she said, and +showed her white teeth with the words like an angry tigress. + +He looked down at her, a faint smile in his blue eyes. "But I don't +drink--alone," he said in such a tone of gentle explanation as he might +have used to a child. + +She stamped her foot. "I hate you!" she said. "I'll never forgive you!" + +"A joke's a joke," said Rufus, still in the tone of a mild instructor. + +"A joke!" Her wrath enwrapped her like a flame. "It was not a joke! It +was a coarse--and hateful--trick!" + +"All right," said Rufus, as one giving up a hopeless task. + +"It's not all right!" flashed Columbine. "You're a bounder, an oaf, a +brute! I--I'll never speak to you again, unless--you--you--apologise!" + +He was still looking down with that vague hint of amusement in his +eyes--the look of a man who watches the miniature fury of some tiny +creature. + +"I'll do anything you like," he said with slow indulgence. "I didn't +know you'd turn nasty, or I wouldn't have done it." + +"Nasty!" echoed Columbine. And then her wrath went suddenly into a +superb gust of scorn. "Oh, you--you are beyond words!" she said. "You +had better get along to the bar and drink there. You'll find your own +kind there to drink with." + +"I'd rather drink with you," said Rufus. + +She uttered a laugh that was tremulous with anger. "You've done it for +the first and last time, my man," she said. + +With the words she turned like a darting, indignant bird, and left him. + +Someone was entering the drawing-room from the hall with a careless, +melodious whistle--a whistle that ended on a note of surprise as +Columbine sped through the room. The whistler--a tall, bronzed young man +in white flannels--stopped short to regard her. + +His eyes were grey and wary under absolutely level brows. His hair was +dark, with an inclination--sternly repressed--to waviness above the +forehead. He made a decidedly pleasant picture, as even Adam could not +have denied. + +Columbine also checked herself at sight of him, but the red blood was +throbbing at her temples. There was no hiding her agitation. + +"You seem in a hurry," remarked Knight. "I hope there is nothing wrong." + +His chin was modelled on firm lines, but there was a very distinct cleft +in it that imparted to him the look of one who could smile at most +things. His words were kindly, but they did not hold any very deep +concern. + +Columbine came to a stand, gripping the back of a chair to steady +herself. "Oh, I--I have been--insulted!" she panted. + +The straight brows went up a little; the man himself stiffened slightly. +Without further words he moved across to the door into the conservatory +and looked through it. He was in time to see Rufus's great, lounging +figure sauntering away in the direction of the wood-yard. + +Knight stood a moment or two and watched him, then quietly turned and +rejoined the girl. + +She was still leaning upon the chair, but she was gradually recovering +her self-control. As he drew near she made a slight movement as if to +resume her interrupted flight. But some other impulse intervened, and +she remained where she was. + +Knight came up and stood beside her. "What has he been doing to annoy +you?" he asked. + +She made a small, vehement gesture of disgust. "Oh, we won't talk of +him. He is an oaf. I dare say he doesn't know any better, but he'll +never have a chance of doing it again. I don't mix with the riff-raff." + +"He's Adam's son, isn't he?" questioned Knight. + +She nodded. "Yes, the great, hulking lubber! Adam's all right. I like +Adam. But Rufus--well, Rufus is a bounder, and I'll never have anything +more to say to him." + +"I think you are quite right to hold your head up above these fisher +fellows," remarked Knight, his grey eyes watching her with an appraising +expression. "They are as much out of place near you as a bed of bindweed +would be in the neighbourhood of a passion-flower." His glance took in +her still panting bosom. "I think you are something of a +passion-flower," he said, faintly smiling. "I wonder at any man daring +to risk offending you." + +Columbine stood up with the free movement of a disdainful princess. "Oh, +he's just a lout," she said. "He doesn't know any better. It isn't as if +you had done it." + +"That would have been different, would it?" said Knight. + +She smiled, but a sombre light still shone in her eyes. "Quite +different," she said with simplicity. "You see, you're a gentleman. +And--gentlemen--don't do unpleasant things like that." + +He laughed a little. "You make me feel quite nervous. What a shocking +thing it would be if I ever did anything to forfeit your good opinion." + +"You couldn't," said Columbine. + +"Couldn't!" He repeated the word with an odd inflection. + +"It wouldn't be you," she explained with the utmost gravity, as one +stating an irrefutable fact. + +"Thank you," said Knight. + +"Oh, it's not a compliment," she returned. "It's just the truth. There +are some people--a few people--that one knows one can trust through and +through. And you are one of them, that's all." + +"Is that so?" said Knight. "You know, that's rather--a colossal +thing--to say of any one." + +"Then you are colossal," said Columbine, smiling more freely. + +Knight turned aside, and picked up the sketch-book he had laid upon the +table on entering. "Are you sure you are not rash?" he said, rather in +the tone of one making a remark than asking a question. + +"Fairly sure," said Columbine. + +She followed him. Perhaps he had foreseen that she would. She stood by +his side. + +"May I see the latest?" she asked. + +He opened the book and showed her a blank page. "That is the latest," he +said. + +She looked at him interrogatively. + +"I am waiting for my--inspiration," he said. + +"I hope you will find it soon," she said. + +He answered her with steady conviction. "I shall find it tonight by +moonlight at the Spear Point Rock." + +Her face clouded a little. "I believe Adam is going to take you," she +said. + +"What?" said Knight. "You are never going to let me down?" + +She smiled with a touch of irony. "It was the Spear Point you wanted," +she reminded him. + +"And you," said Knight, "to show the way." + +Something in his tone arrested her. Her beautiful eyes sank suddenly to +the blank page he held. "Adam can do that--as well as I can," she said. + +"But you said you would," said Knight. His voice was low; he was looking +full at her. He saw the rich colour rising in her cheeks. "What is it?" +he said. "Won't they let you?" + +She raised her head abruptly, proudly. "I please myself," she said. "No +one has the ordering of me." + +His grey eyes shone a little. "Then it pleases you--to let me down?" he +questioned. + +Her look flashed suddenly up to his. She saw his expression and laughed. +"I didn't think you'd care," she said. "Adam knows the lie of the +quicksand. That's all you really want." + +"Oh, pardon me!" said Knight. "You are quite wrong, if you imagine that +I am indifferent as to who goes with me. Inspiration won't burn in a +cold place." + +She dropped her lids, still looking at him. "Isn't Adam inspiring?" she +asked. + +"He couldn't furnish the particular sort of inspiration I am needing +for my moonlight picture," said Knight. + +He spoke deliberately, but his brows were slightly drawn, belying the +coolness of his speech. + +"What is the sort of inspiration you are wanting?" asked Columbine. + +He smiled with a hint of provocation. "I'll tell you that when we get +there." + +Her answering smile was infinitely more provocative than his. "That will +be very interesting," she said. + +Knight closed his sketch-book. "I am glad to know," he said +thoughtfully, "that you please yourself, Miss Columbine. In doing so, +you have the happy knack of pleasing--others." + +He made her a slight, courtly bow, and turned away. + +He left her still standing at the table, looking after him with +perplexity and gathering resolution in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE MINOTAUR + + +"Not stopping to supper even? Well, you must be a darned looney!" + +Adam sat down astride his wood-block with the words, and looked up at +his son with the aggressive expression of a Scotch terrier daring a +Newfoundland. + +Rufus, with his hands in his pockets, leaned against the woodshed. He +made no reply of any sort to his father's brisk observation. Obviously +it made not the faintest impression upon him. + +After a moment or two he spoke, his pipe in the corner of his mouth. "If +that chap bathes off the Spear Point rocks when the tide's at the spring +he'll get into difficulties." + +"Who says he does?" demanded Adam. + +Rufus jerked his head. "I saw him--from my place--this afternoon. Tide +was going down, or the current would have caught him. Better warn him." + +"I did," responded Adam sharply. "Warned him long ago. Warned him of the +quicksand, too." + +Rufus grunted. "Then he's only himself to thank. Or maybe he doesn't +know a spring tide from a neap." + +"Oh, he's not such a fool as that," said Adam. + +Rufus grunted once again, and relapsed into silence. + +It was at this point that Mrs. Peck showed her portly person at the back +door of The Ship. + +"Why, Rufus," she said, "I thought you was in the front with Columbine." + +Rufus stood up with the deference that he never omitted to pay to Adam's +wife. "So I was," he said. "I came along here after to talk to Adam." + +Mrs. Peck's round eyes gave him a searching look. "Did you have your +mulberry wine?" she asked. + +"Yes, Mother." + +"You were mighty quick about it," commented Mrs. Peck. + +"Yes, he's in a hurry," said Adam, with one of his birdlike glances. +"Can't stop for anything, missus. Wants to get back to his supper." + +"I never!" said Mrs. Peck. "You aren't in that hurry, Rufus, surely! +Just as I was going to ask you to do something to oblige me, too!" + +"What's that?" said Rufus. + +Mrs. Peck descended into the yard with a hint of mystery. "Well, just +this," she said confidentially. "That there Mr. Knight, he's a very nice +young gentleman; but he's an artist, and you know, artists don't look at +things like ordinary folk. He wants to get a moonlight picture of the +Spear Point, and he's got our Columbine to say she'll take him there +tonight. Well, now, I don't think it's right, and I told her so. But, of +course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and +different-like from the rest. Still, I said as I'd rather she didn't, +and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know. It +wouldn't be hardly safe to let him go alone. He's a bit foolhardy too. +But Adam's not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise. So +I thought as how maybe you'd step into the breach and take Mr. Knight +along. Come, you won't refuse?" + +She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the +young fisherman's rugged face. + +Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips +and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole. + +"Yes, you go, Rufus!" he said, as Mrs. Peck paused. "You show him round! +I'd like him to know you." + +"What for?" said Rufus. + +Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a +wink and a grin. "Do you good to go into society," he said. "That's all +right, missus, he'll go. Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants +to start." + +"Wait a bit!" commanded Rufus. + +Mrs. Peck waited. She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as +his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that. +Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men. + +"It comes to this," said Rufus, speaking ponderously. "I'll go if I'm +wanted. But I'm not one for shoving myself in otherwise. Maybe the chap +won't be so keen himself when he knows he can't have Columbine to go +with him. Find that out first!" + +Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile. "Lor', Rufus! You've +got some sense," she said. "But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I +says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back." + +Adam chuckled. "Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I +know," he remarked. + +"Ah! She don't visit her tantrums on you," rejoined his wife. "You can +afford to smile." + +"And I does," said Adam. + +Rufus turned away. There was no smile on his countenance. He said +nothing, but there was that in his demeanour that clearly indicated that +he personally was neither amused nor disconcerted by the tantrums of +Columbine. + +He followed Mrs. Peck indoors, and sat down in the kitchen to await +developments. And Adam, whistling cheerfully, strolled to the bar. + +Mrs. Peck had to dish up the visitor's dinner before she could tackle +him upon the subject in hand. She trotted to and fro upon her task, too +intent for further speech with Rufus, who sat in unbroken silence, +gazing steadily before him with a Sphinx-like immobility that made of +him an impressive figure. + +The beefsteak was already in the dish, and Mrs. Peck was in the act of +pouring the gravy over it when there sounded a light step on the stone +of the passage and Columbine entered. + +She had removed her sun-bonnet and donned a dainty little apron. The +soft dark hair clustered tenderly about her temples. + +"Oh, Aunt Liza," she said, "if I didn't go and forget that Sally was out +tonight! I'm sorry I'm too late to help with the dinner. But I'll take +it in." + +She caught her breath at sight of the massive, silent figure seated +against the wall, but instantly recovered her composure and passed it by +with an upward tilt of the chin. + +"You needn't trouble yourself to do that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Peck, +with a touch of tartness. "I'll wait on Mr. Knight myself. You can lay +the supper in the parlour if you've a mind to be useful. There'll be +four to lay for." + +Columbine turned with something of a pounce. "No, there won't! There'll +be three," she said. "If that--oaf--stays to supper, I go without!" + +"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck. + +Rufus came out of his silence. "That's all right. I'm not staying to +supper," he said. + +"But--lor' sakes!--what's the matter?" questioned Mrs. Peck. "Have you +two been quarrelling?" + +"No, we haven't!" flashed Columbine. "I wouldn't stoop. But I'm not +going to sit down to supper with a man who hasn't learnt manners. I'd +sooner go without--much." + +Rufus remained absolutely unmoved. He made no attempt at +self-justification, though Mrs. Peck was staring from one to the other +in mystified interrogation. + +Columbine turned swiftly and caught up a cover for the savoury dish that +steamed on the table. "You'd better let me take this in before it gets +cold," she said. + +"No; put it on the rack!" commanded Mrs. Peck. "There's a drop of soup +to go in first. And, Columbine, my dear, I don't think it's right of you +to go losing your temper that way. Rufus is Adam's son, remember, and +you can't refuse to sit at table with him." + +"Leave her alone, Mother!" For the second time Rufus intervened. "I've +offended her. My mistake. I'll know better next time." + +His deep voice was wholly devoid of humour. It was, in fact, devoid of +any species of emotion whatever. Yet, oddly enough, the anger died out +of Columbine's face as she heard it. She turned to the tablecloth-press +and began to unwind it in silence. + +Mrs. Peck sniffed, and took up the soup-tureen. + +As she waddled out of the kitchen Columbine withdrew the parlour +tablecloth and turned round. + +"If you're really sorry," she said, "I'll forgive you." + +Rufus regarded her for several seconds in silence, a slow smile dawning +in his eyes. "Thank you," he said finally. + +"You are sorry then?" insisted Columbine. + +He shook his great bull-head, the smile still in his eyes. "I wouldn't +have missed it for anything," he said. + +There was no perceptible familiarity in the remark, and Columbine, after +brief consideration, decided to dismiss it without discussion. "Well, +let it be a lesson to you, and don't you ever do such a thing again!" +she said severely. "For I won't have you or any man lay hands on me--not +even in fun." + +"All right," said Rufus. + +He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if to remove all cause of +offence, and was rewarded by a swift smile from Columbine. The storm had +blown away. + +"I'll lay for four after all," she said, as she whisked out of the room. + +Rufus was still seated in solitary state in the kitchen when Mrs. Peck +returned from the little coffee-room where she had been serving her +guest. + +She peered round with caution ere she came close to him and spoke. + +"It's as you thought. He don't want to go with either you or Adam." + +Rufus's face remained unchanged; it was slightly bovine of expression as +he received the news. "We'll both get to bed in good time then," was his +comment. + +Mrs. Peck's smooth brow drew in momentary exasperation. She had expected +something more dramatic than this. + +"I'm glad you're so easily satisfied," she said. "But let me tell +you--I'm not!" + +She paused to see if this piece of information would take more effect +than the first, but again Rufus proved a disappointment. Neither by word +nor look did he express any sympathy. + +Mrs. Peck continued, it being contrary to her nature to leave anything +to the imagination of her hearers. "If he'd been content to go with one +of you, I wouldn't have given it another thought. Goodness knows, I'm +not of a suspicious turn. But the moment I mention the matter, he turns +round with his sweetest smile and he says, 'Oh, don't you trouble, Mrs. +Peck!' he says. 'I quite understand. Miss Columbine explained it all, +and I quite see your point. It ought to have occurred to me sooner,' he +says, smiling with them nice teeth of his, 'but, if you'll believe me, +it didn't.' And then, when I suggested maybe he'd like you or Adam to go +with him instead, it was, 'No, no, Mrs. Peck. I wouldn't ask it of 'em. +I couldn't drag any man at the chariot-wheels of Art. If I did, she +would see to it that the chariot was empty.' He most always talks like +that," ended Mrs. Peck in an aggrieved tone. "He's that airy in his +ways." + +A sudden trill of laughter from the doorway caused her to straighten +herself sharply and trot to the fireplace with a guilty air. + +Columbine entered, light of foot, her eyes brimful of mirth. "You're +caught, Aunt Liza! Yes, you're caught!" she commented ungenerously. "I +know exactly what you were saying. Shall I tell you? No, p'raps I'd +better not. I'll tell you what you looked like instead, shall I? You +looked exactly like that funny old speckled hen in the yard who always +clucks such a lot. And Rufus"--she threw him a merry glance from which +all resentment had wholly departed--"Rufus looks--and is--just like a +great red ox." + +"Don't you be pert!" said Mrs. Peck, stooping stoutly over the fire. +"Get a duster and dust them plates!" + +Columbine laughed again with her chin in the air. She found a duster and +occupied herself as desired. + +Her eyes were upon her work. Plainly she was not looking at Rufus, not +apparently thinking of him. But--very suddenly--without changing her +attitude, she flashed him a swift glance. He was looking straight at +her, and in his blue eyes was an intense, deep glow as of flaming +spirit. + +Columbine's look shot away from him with the rapidity of a swallow on +the wing. The colour deepened in her cheeks. + +"P'raps he's almost more like a prize bull," she said meditatively. +"Perhaps he's a Minotaur, Aunt Liza. Do you think he is?" + +"My dear, I don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Peck, with +a touch of acidity. + +Columbine laughed a little. "Do you know, Rufus?" she said. + +She did not look at him with the question; there was a quivering dimple +in her red cheek that came and went. + +"I'd like to know," said Rufus with simplicity. + +"Would you, really?" Columbine polished the last plate vigorously and +set it down. "The Minotaur," she said, in the tone of a schoolmistress +delivering a lecture, "was a monster, half-bull, half-man, who lived in +a place like the Spear Point Caves, and devoured young men and maidens. +You live nearer to the Caves than any one else, don't you, Rufus?" + +Again she ventured a darting glance at him. His look was still upon her, +but its fiery quality was less apparent. He met the challenge with his +slow, indulgent smile. + +"Yes, I live there. I don't devour anybody. I'm not--that sort of +monster." + +Columbine shook her head. "I'm not so sure of that," she said. "But I +dare say you'd tame." + +"P'raps you'd like to do it," suggested Rufus. + +It was his first direct overture, and Columbine, who had angled for it, +experienced a thrill of triumph. But she was swift to mask her +satisfaction. She tossed her head, and turned: "Oh, I've no time to +waste that way," she said. "You must do your own taming, Mr. Minotaur. +When you're quite civilised, p'raps I'll talk to you." + +She was gone with the words, carrying her plates with her. + +"She's a deal too pert," observed Mrs. Peck to the saucepan she was +stirring. "It's my belief now that that Mr. Knight's been putting ideas +into her head. She's getting wild; that's what she is." + +Knowing Rufus, she expected no response, and for several seconds none +came. + +Then to her surprise she heard his voice, deep and sonorous as the +bell-buoy that was moored by the Spear Point Reef. + +"Maybe she'd tame," he said. + +And "Goodness gracious unto me!" said Mrs. Peck, as she lifted her +saucepan off the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE RISING TIDE + + +A long dazzling pathway of moonlight stretched over the sea, starting +from the horizon, ending at the great jutting promontory of the Spear +Point. The moon was yet three nights from the full. The tide was rising, +but it would not be high for another two hours. + +The breakers ran in, one behind the other, foaming over the hidden +rocks, splashing wildly against the grim wall of granite that stood +sharp-edged to withstand them. It was curved like a scimitar, that rock, +and within its curve there slept, when the tide was low, a pool. When +the tide rose the waters raged and thundered all around the rock, but +when it sank again the still, deep pool remained, unruffled as a +mountain tarn and as full of mystery. + +Over a tumble of lesser rocks that bounded the pool to shoreward the +wary might find a path to the Spear Point Caves; but the path was +difficult, and there were few who had ever attempted it. For the +quicksand lay like a golden barrier between the outer beach and the +rocks that led thither. + +It was an awesome spot. Many a splinter of wreckage had been tossed in +over the Spear Point as though flung in sport from a giant hand. And +when the water was high there came a hollow groaning from the inner +caves as though imprisoned spirits languished there. + +But on that night of magic moonlight the only sound was the murmurous +splash of the rising waves as they met the first grim rocks of the +Point. Presently they would dash in thunder round the granite blade, and +the sleeping pool would be turned to a smother of foam. + +On the edge of the pool a woman's figure clad in white stood balanced +with outstretched arms. So still was the water, so splendid the +moonlight, that the whole of her light form was mirrored there--a +perfect image of nymph-like grace. She sang a soft, low, trilling song +like the song of a blackbird awaking to the dawn. + +"By Jupiter!" Knight murmured to himself. "If I could get her only +once--only once--as--she--is!" + +The gleam of the hunter was in his look. He stood on the rocks some +yards away from her, gazing with eyes half-shut. + +Suddenly she turned herself, and across the intervening space her voice +came to him, half-mocking, half-alluring, "Have you found your +inspiration yet?" + +"Not yet," he said. + +She raised her shoulders with a humorous gesture, "Hasn't the magic +begun to work?" + +He came towards her, moving slowly and with caution. "Don't move!" he +said. + +She waited for him on the edge of the pool. There was laughter in her +eyes, laughter and the sublime daring of innocence. + +He reached her. They stood together on the same flat rock. He bent to +her, in his eyes the burning worship of beauty. + +"Columbine!" he said. "Witch! Enchantress! Queen!" + +The red blood raced into her face. Her eyes shone into his with a sudden +glory--the glory of the awaking soul. But the woman-instinct in her +checked the first quick impulse of surrender. + +She made a little motion away from him. She laughed and veiled her eyes +from the fiery adoration that flamed upon her. "The magic is +working--evidently," she said. "What a good thing I brought you here!" + +"Yes; it is a good thing," he said, and in his voice she heard the deep +note of a mastery that would not be denied. "Do you know what you have +done to me, you goddess? You have opened the eyes of my heart. I am +dazzled. I am blinded. I believe I am possessed. When I paint my picture +--it will be such as the world has never seen." + +"Hadn't you better begin it?" whispered Columbine. + +He held out his hand to her--a hand that was not wholly steady. "Not +yet," he said. "The vision is too near, too wonderful. How shall I paint +the rapture that I have hardly yet dared to contemplate? Columbine!" + +His voice suddenly pleaded, and as though in answer she laid her hand in +his. But she did not raise her eyes. She palpitated from head to foot +like a captured bird. + +"You are not--afraid?" he whispered. + +"I don't know," she whispered back. "Not of you--not of you!" + +"Ah!" he said. "We are caught in the same net. There is nothing terrible +in that. The same magic is working in us both. Let it work, dear! We +understand each other. Why should there be anything to fear?" + +But still she did not raise her eyes, and still she trembled in his +hold. "I never thought," she faltered, "never dreamed. Oh, is it true?" + +"True that you are the most beautiful creature that this earth +contains?" he said, and his voice throbbed upon the words. "True that +the very sight of you turns my blood to fire? Aphrodite, goddess and +sorceress, do you doubt that? Wait till you see my picture, and then +ask! I have found my inspiration tonight--yes, I have found it--but it +is so immense--so overwhelming--that I cannot grasp it yet. Tonight, +dear, just for tonight--let me worship at your feet! This madness must +have its way. In the morning I shall be sane again. Tonight--tonight I +tread Olympus with the Immortals." + +He was drawing her towards him, and Columbine--Columbine, who suffered +no man's hand upon her--was yielding slowly, but inevitably, to the +persuasion of his touch. Just at the last, indeed, she made a small, +wholly futile attempt to free herself; but the moment she did so his +hold became the hold of the conqueror, and with a faint laugh she flung +aside the instinct that had prompted it. The next instant, freely and +splendidly, she raised her downcast face and abandoned herself utterly +to him. + +To give without stint was the impulse of her passionate, Southern +nature, and she gave freely, royally, that night. The magic that ran in +the veins of both was too compelling to be resisted. The girl, with her +half-awakened soul, the man, with his fiery thirst for beauty, were +caught in the great current that sweeps like a tidal wave around the +world, and it bore them swiftly, swiftly, whither neither he in his +restlessness nor she in her in experience realised or cared. If the +sound of the breakers came to them from afar they heeded it not. They +were too far away to matter as yet, and Knight had steered a safe course +for himself in troubled seas before. As for Columbine, she knew only the +rapture of love triumphant, and tasted perfect safety in the holding of +her lover's arms. He had won her with scarcely a struggle, and she +gloried with an ecstasy that was in its way sublime in the completeness +of her surrender. On such a night as that it seemed to her that the +whole world lay at her feet, and she knew no fear. + +The still pool slept in the moonlight, a lake of silver, unspeakably +calm. Beyond the outstretched blade of rock the great waters rose and +rose. The murmur of them had swelled to a roar. The splash of them +mounted higher and ever higher. Suddenly a crest of foam gleamed like a +tongue of lightning at the point of the curve. The pool stirred as if +awakening. The moonlight on its surface was shivered in a thousand +ripples. They broke in a succession of tiny wavelets against the +encircling rocks. + +Another silver crest appeared, burst in thunder, and in a moment the +pool was flooded with tossing water. + +"Do you see that?" whispered Columbine. "It is like my life." + +They stood together under the frowning cliff and watched the wonder of +the pool's awakening. Knight's arm held her close pressed to his side. +He could feel the beating of her heart. She stood with her face upturned +to his and all the glory of love's surrender shining in her eyes. + +He caught his breath as he looked at her. He stooped and kissed the red, +red lips that gave so generously. "Is my love as the rising tide to you, +sweet?" he murmured. + +"It is more!" she answered passionately. "It is more! It is the tidal +wave that comes so seldom--maybe only once in a lifetime--and carries +all before it." + +He pressed her closer. "My passion-flower!" he said. "My queen!" + +He kissed the throbbing whiteness of her throat, the loose clusters of +her hair. He laid his hot face against her neck, and held it so, not +breathing. Her arms stretched upwards, clasping him. She was +panting--panting as one in deep waters. + +"I love you! I love you!" she whispered tensely. "Oh, how I love you!" + +Again there came the thunder of the surf. The waters of the pool leapt +as if a giant hand had churned them. The foam from beyond the reef +overspread them like snow. The whole world became full of the sound of +surging waters. + +Knight opened his eyes. "The tide is coming up fast," he said. "We must +be getting back." + +She clung closer to him. "I could die with you on a night like this," +she said. + +He crushed her to his heart. "Ah, goddess!" he said. "You couldn't die! +But I am only mortal, and the tide won't wait." + +Again the swirling breakers swept around the Point. Reluctantly she came +to earth. The pool had become a seething whirl of water. + +"Yes," she said, "we must go, and quickly--quickly! It rises so fast +here." + +Sure-footed as a doe over the slippery rocks, she led the way. They left +the magic place and the dazzling tumble of moonlit water, the dark +caves, the enchanted strand. Progress was not easy, but Knight had been +that way before, though only by day. He followed his guide closely, and +when presently they emerged upon level sand, he overtook and walked +beside her. + +She slipped her hand into his. "It's the lie of the quicksand that's +puzzling," she said, "if you don't know it well." + +"I am in thy hands, O Queen," he made light reply. "Lead me whither thou +wilt!" + +She laughed--a low, sweet laugh of sheer happiness. "And if I lead you +astray?" + +"I would follow you down to the nethermost millstone," he vowed. + +Her hand tightened upon his. She paused a moment, looking out over the +stretch of sand that intervened between them and the little +fishing-quay. He had safely negotiated that stretch of sand by daylight, +though even then it had needed an alert eye to detect that slight +ooziness of surface that denoted the presence of the sea-swamp. But by +night, even in that brilliant moonlight, it was barely perceptible. +Columbine herself did not trust to appearances. She had learnt the way +from Adam as a child learns a lesson by heart. He had taught her to know +the danger-spot by the shape of the cliffs above it. + +After a very brief pause to take her bearings, she moved forward with +absolute assurance. Knight accompanied her with unquestioning +confidence. His faith in his own luck was as profound as his faith in +the girl at his side. And the tumult in his veins that night was such as +to make him insensible of danger. The roar of the rising tide +exhilarated him. He walked with the stride of a conqueror, free and +unafraid, his face to the sea. + +Unerringly she led him, but she did not speak again until they had made +the passage and the treacherous morass of sand was left behind. + +Then, with a deep breath, she stopped. "Now we are safe!" + +"Weren't we safe before?" he asked carelessly. + +Her eyes sought his; she gave a little shiver. "Oh, are we ever safe?" +she said. "Especially when we are happy? That quicksand makes one +think." + +"Never spoil the present by thinking of the future!" said Knight +sententiously. + +She took him seriously. "I don't. I want to keep the present just as it +is--just as it is. I would like to stay with you here for ever and ever, +but in another half-hour--in less--the tide will be racing over this +very spot, and we shall be gone." Her voice vibrated; she cast a glance +behind. "One false step," she said, "too sharp a turn, too wide a curve, +and we'd have been in the quicksand! It's like that all over. It's life, +and it's full of danger, whichever way we turn." + +He looked at her curiously. "Why, what has come to you?" he said. + +She caught her breath in a sound that was like a sob. "I don't know," +she said. "It's being so madly happy that has frightened me. It can't +last. It never does last." + +He smiled upon her philosophically. "Then let us make the most of it +while it does!" he said. "Tonight will pass, but--don't forget--there is +tomorrow." + +She answered him feverishly. "The moon may not shine tomorrow." + +He laughed, drawing her to him. "I can do without the moon, queen of my +heart." + +She went into his arms, but she was trembling. "I feel--somehow--as if +someone were watching us," she whispered. + +"Exactly my own idea," he said. "The moon is a bit too intrusive +tonight. I shan't weep if there are a few clouds tomorrow." + +She laughed a little dubiously. "We couldn't cross the quicksand if the +light were bad." + +"We could get down to the Point by the cliff-path," he pointed out. "I +went that way only this afternoon." + +"Ah! But it is very steep, and it passes Rufus's cottage," she murmured. + +"What of it?" he said indifferently. "I'm sure he sleeps like a log." + +She turned from the subject. "Besides, you must have moonlight for your +picture. And the moon won't last." + +"My picture!" He pressed her suddenly closer. "Do you know what my +picture is going to be?" + +"Tell me!" she whispered. + +"Shall I?" He turned gently her face up to his own. "Shall I? Dare I?" + +She opened her eyes wide--those glorious, trusting eyes. "But why +should you be afraid to tell me?" + +He laughed again softly, and kissed her lips. "I will make a rough +sketch in the morning and show it you. It won't be a study--only an +idea. You are going to pose for the study." + +"I?" she said, half-startled. + +"You--yes, you!" His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Haven't you realised +yet that you are my inspiration?" he said. "It is going to be the +picture of my life--'Aphrodite the Beautiful!'" + +She quivered afresh at his words. "Am I really--so beautiful?" she +faltered. "Would you think so if--if you didn't love me?" + +"Would I have loved you if you weren't?" laughed Knight. "My darling, +you are exquisite as a passion-flower grown in Paradise. To worship you +is as natural to me as breathing. You are heaven on earth to me." + +"You love me--because of that?" + +"I love you," he answered, "soul and body, because you are you. There is +no other reason, heart of my heart. When my picture of pictures is +painted, then--perhaps--you will see yourself as I see you--and +understand." + +She uttered a quick sigh, clinging to him with a hold that was almost +convulsive. "Ah, yes! To see myself with your eyes! I want that. I shall +know then--how much you love me." + +"Will you? But will you?" he said, softly derisive. "You will have to +show me yourself and your love--all there is of it--before you can do +that." + +She lifted her head from his shoulder. The fire that he had kindled in +her soul was burning in her eyes. "I am all yours--all yours," she told +him passionately. "All that I have to offer is your own." + +His face changed a little. The tender mockery passed, and an expression +that was oddly out of place there succeeded it. "Ah, you shouldn't tell +me that, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was low and held a touch of +pain. "I might be tempted to take too much--more than I have any right +to take." + +"You have a right to all," she said. + +But he shook his head. "No--no! You are too young." + +"Too young to love?" she said, with quick scorn. + +His arm was close about her. "No," he answered soberly. "Only so young +that you may--possibly--make the mistake of loving too well." + +"What do you mean?" Her voice had a startled note; she pressed nearer to +him. + +He lifted a hand and pointed to the silver pathway on the sea. "I mean +that love is just moonshine--just moonshine; the dream of a night that +passes." + +"Not in a night!" she cried, and there was anguish in the words. + +He bent again swiftly and kissed her lips. "No, not in a night, +sweetheart. Not even in two. But at last--at last--_tout passe_!" + +"Then it isn't love!" she said with conviction. + +He snapped his fingers at the moonlight with a gesture half-humorous, +yet half-defiant. "It is life," he said, "and the irony of life. Don't +be too generous, my queen of the sea! Give me what I ask--of your +graciousness! But--don't offer me more! Perhaps I might take it, and +then--" + +He turned with the words, as if the sentence were ended, and Columbine +went with him, bewildered but too deeply fascinated to feel any serious +misgiving. She did not ask for any further explanation, something about +him restrained her. But she knew no doubt, and when he halted in the +shadow of the deserted quay and took her face once more between his +hands with the one word, "Tomorrow!" she lifted eyes of perfect trust to +his and answered simply, "Yes, tomorrow!" + +And the rapture of his kisses was all-sufficing. She carried away with +her no other memory but that. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MIDSUMMER MORNING + + +It was two mornings later, very early on Midsummer Day, that Rufus the +Red, looking like a Viking in the crystal atmosphere of sky and sea, +rowed the stranger with great, swinging strokes through the fishing +fleet right out into the burning splendour of the sun. Knight had +entered the boat in the belief that he was going to see something of the +raising of the nets. But it became apparent very soon that Rufus had +other plans for his entertainment, for he passed his father by with no +more than a jerk of the head, which Adam evidently interpreted as a sign +of farewell rather than of greeting, and rowed on without a pause. + +Knight, with his sketch-book beside him, sat in the stern. He had never +taken much interest in Rufus before; but now, seated facing him, with +the giant muscles and grim, unresponsive countenance of the man +perpetually before his eyes, the selecting genius in him awoke and began +to appraise. + +Rufus wore a grey flannel shirt, open at the neck, displaying a broad +red chest, immensely powerful, with a bull-like strength that every +swing of the oars brought into prominence. He had not the appearance of +exerting himself unduly, albeit he was pulling in choppy water against +the tide. + +His blue eyes gazed ever straight at the shore he was leaving. He seemed +so withdrawn into himself as to be oblivious of the fact that he was not +alone. Knight watched him, wondering if any thoughts were stirring in +the slow brain behind that massive forehead. Columbine had declared that +the man was an oaf, and he felt inclined to agree with her. And yet +there was something in the intensity of the fellow's eyes that held his +attention, the possibility of the actual existence of an unknown element +that did not fit into that conception of him. They were not the eyes of +a mere animal. There was no vagueness in their utter stillness. Rather +had they the look of a man who waits. + +Curiosity began to stir within him. He wondered if by judicious probing +he could penetrate the wall of aloofness with which his companion seemed +to be surrounded. It would be interesting to know if the fellow really +possessed any individuality. + +Airily he broke the silence. "Are you going to take me straight into the +temple of the sun? I thought I was out to see the fishing." + +The remote blue eyes came back as it were out of the far distance and +found him. There came to Knight an odd, wholly unwonted, sensation of +smallness. He felt curiously like a pigmy disturbing the meditations of +a giant. + +Rufus looked at him for several seconds of uninterrupted rowing before, +in his deep, resounding voice, he spoke. "They won't be taking up the +nets for a goodish while yet. We shall be back in time." + +"The idea is to give me a run for my money first, eh?" inquired Knight +pleasantly. + +He had not anticipated the sudden fall of the red brows that greeted his +words. He felt as if he had inadvertently trodden upon a match. + +"No," said Rufus slowly, speaking with a strangely careful accent, as if +his mind were concentrated upon being absolutely intelligible to his +listener. "That was not my idea." + +The spirit of adventure awoke in Knight. There was something behind this +granite calmness of demeanour then. He determined to draw it forth, even +though he struck further sparks in the process. + +"No?" he said carelessly. "Then why this pleasure trip? Did you bring me +out here just to show me--the 'Pit of the Burning'?" + +His eyes were upon the dazzling glory of the newly risen sun as he threw +the question. Rufus's massive head and shoulders were strongly outlined +against it. He had ceased to row, but the boat still shot forward, +impelled by the last powerful sweep of the oars, the water streaming +past in a rush of foam. + +Slowly, like the hammer-strokes of a deep-toned bell, came Rufus's voice +in answer. "It wasn't to show you anything I brought you here. It was +just to tell you something." + +"Really?" Knight's interest was thoroughly aroused. He became alert to +the finger-tips. There was something in the deliberate utterance that +conveyed a sense of danger. A wary gleam shone in his eyes under their +level brows. It was one of his principles when dealing with an uncertain +situation never to betray surprise. "And what may this valuable piece of +information be?" he inquired, with a smile. + +Rufus shipped his oars steadily, gravely, with purpose. "I saw you cross +the quicksand last night," he said. + +"Indeed!" Knight's voice was of the most casual quality. He was feeling +for his cigarette-case. + +Rufus continued heavily, fatefully, gathering force with every word, as +a loosened rock beginning to roll down a mountain side. "The light was +bad. It was a tomfool thing to do. And Columbine was with you." + +Knight raised his shoulders ever so slightly. "Or rather--I was with +her. Miss Columbine knows the lie of the quicksand. I--do not." + +Rufus went on as if he had not spoken. "There's danger all along that +beach as far as the Spear Point. Adam will tell you the same. When it's +a spring tide there's times when there's such a swell that it's round +the Point and over the pool like a tidal wave. You'll hear the +bell-buoy tolling when there's a swell like that. We call it the Death +Current hereabouts, because there's nothing could live in it, and the +bell always tolls. And once it comes up like that the way to the +cliff-path is under water in less than thirty seconds. And the quicksand +is the only chance left." He paused; it was as if the rock halted for a +moment on the edge of the precipice before plunging finally into the +abyss of silence below. "When there's a ground swell," he said, "the +quicksand will pull a man down quicker than hell. And there's no +one--not Adam himself--can tell the lay of it for certain when the light +is bad." + +His mouth closed upon the words like the snap of a strong spring. Knight +waited for more, but none came. Whatever the thought behind the warning +that he had just uttered it was evident that Rufus had no intention of +giving it expression. He had uttered the girl's name with no more +emotion than that of his father, but it seemed to Knight that by that +very fact he had managed to convey a warning more potent than any that +had followed. Otherwise he would scarcely have taken the trouble to +mention her. The possibility of subtlety in this great, slow-speaking +giant piqued him to a keener interest. He resolved to probe a little +deeper. + +"Miss Columbine is a very reliable guide," he remarked. "If you and Adam +have been her instructors in shore-craft, she does you credit." + +His remark went into utter silence. Rufus, with huge hands loosely +clasped between his knees, appeared to be engrossed in watching the +progress of the boat as she drifted gently on the rising tide. His face +was utterly blank of expression, unless a certain grim fixity could be +described as such. + +Knight became slightly exasperated. Was the fellow no more than the fool +Columbine believed him to be after all? He determined to settle this +question once and for all at a single stroke. + +"I suppose she has all you fellows at Spear Point at her feet?" he said, +with an easy smile. "But I hope you are all too large-minded to grudge a +poor artist the biggest find that has ever come his way." + +There was a pause, but the burning blue eyes were no longer fixed upon +the sparkling ripples through which they had travelled. They were turned +upon Knight's face, searching, piercing, intent. Before he spoke again, +Knight's doubt as to the existence of a brain behind the massive brow +was fully set at rest. + +"There is another thing I have to say," said Rufus. + +Knight's smile broadened encouragingly. "By all means let us hear it!" +he said. + +Rufus proceeded. "You speak of Columbine as if she were just a bit of +amber or such-like as you'd found on the shore and picked up and put in +your pocket. You speak as if she's your property to do what you like +with. That's just what she is not. You're making love to her. I know +it. I seen it. And it's got to stop." + +He spoke with blunt force; his hands were suddenly locked upon each +other in a hard grip. + +Knight lifted his shoulders; his smile had become whimsical. He had +drawn the fellow at last. "I thought you'd seen something," he remarked, +"by your way. But who could help making love to a girl with a face like +that? It would take a heart of stone to resist it. Why, even you"--and +his look challenged Rufus with careless derision--"even you have fallen +to that temptation before now, or I'm much mistaken. But I gather that +your attentions did not meet with a very favourable response." + +He was baiting the animal now, taunting him, with the semi-humorous +malice of the mischievous schoolboy. He had no particular grudge against +Rufus, but he had a lively desire to see him squirm. + +But this desire was not to be gratified. Rufus met the thrust without +the faintest hint of feeling. + +"What you think," he said, in his weighty fashion, "has nothing to do +with me. What you do is all that matters. And I tell you straight"--a +blue flame suddenly leapt up like a volcanic light in the sombre +eyes--"that no man that hasn't honest intentions by her is going to make +love to Columbine." + +"Great Jove!" mocked Knight, with his careless laugh. "And who told you, +most worthy swain, what my intentions were?" + +Rufus leaned towards him slowly, with something of the action of a +crouching beast. "No one told me," he said in a voice that was deeply +menacing. "But--I know." + +Knight made a gesture of supreme indifference. "You are on an entirely +wrong scent," he observed. "But you seem to be enjoying it." He paused +to take out a cigarette. "Have a smoke!" he suggested after a moment, +proffering his case. + +Rufus did not so much as see it. His whole attitude was one of strain, +as if he barely held himself back from springing at the other's throat. + +Knight, however, was elaborately unconscious of any tension. He smiled +and closed his cigarette case. Then with the utmost deliberation he +searched for his matches, found them, and lighted his cigarette. + +Having puffed forth the first deep breath with luxurious enjoyment, he +spoke again. "It is a little difficult to get a man of your stamp to +comprehend the fact that an artist--a true artist--is not one to be +greatly drawn by the grosser things of life, more especially when he is +in ardent pursuit of that elusive flame called inspiration. But you +would hardly grasp a condition in which the body--and the impulses of +the body--are in complete subjection to the aspirations of the mind. +You"--he blew forth a cloud of smoke--"are probably incapable of +realizing that the worship of beauty can be of so purely artistic a +nature as to be practically free from the physical element, certainly +independent of it. I am taking you out of your depth, I know, but it is +hard to make myself clear to an untrained mind. I might try a homely +simile and suggest to you that you go a-fishing, not for love of the +fish, but because it is your profession; but that does not wholly +illustrate my meaning, for I love everything in the way of beauty that +comes my way. I follow beauty like a guiding star. And sometimes--but +seldom, oh, very seldom"--a sudden odd thrill sounded in his voice as if +by accident some hidden string had been struck and set vibrating--"I +fulfil my desire--I realise my dream--I grasp and hold a spark of the +Divine." He paused again, his face to the gold of the dawn and in his +eyes the far-off rapture of one who watches some soaring flight of +fancy. Then abruptly, lightly, he resumed his normal, half-quizzing +demeanour. "Doubtless I weary you," he said. "But you mustn't run away +with the idea that I am in love because I feel myself inspired. It may +sound callous to you, but if Miss Columbine were to lose her exquisite +beauty (which heaven forbid!) I should never voluntarily look upon her +again. That I take it, is the test of love, which, we are told, is blind +to all defects." + +He ceased to speak, and carelessly, yet with obvious enjoyment, he sent +forth another cloud of smoke into the crystal air of the morning. + +He was not looking at Rufus. It was abundantly evident that he had not +realised how near to open violence the young fisherman had been. His +nonchalant explanation was plainly all-sufficing in his own opinion, +and during the very marked silence that followed he displayed no +faintest hint of anxiety or even interest as to the fashion of its +reception. + +The boat was rocking lightly on the swell; the sea all around was +flooded with gold. The great jagged outline of the Spear Point looked +like the castle of a dream. The haze of the newly risen sun had touched +with magic all the world. Knight's eyes were half-closed. He had the +look of a man at peace with himself. + +And Rufus relaxed. The tension went out of his attitude; the volcanic +fires died down. For half a minute or more he sat absolutely passive. +Then slowly, with massive deliberation, he moved, unshipped the oars, +and bent himself to pull. In another ten seconds the boat was rushing +through the water under the compulsion of his powerful strokes, heading +straight for the boats of the fishing fleet that dotted the bay.... + +It must have been fully a quarter of an hour later that Knight, having +finished his cigarette, came out of his reverie. + +"And so, you see," he remarked in the tone of one pleasantly rounding +off a conversation, "until my picture is painted I remain the slave of +my dream. I wonder if I have succeeded at all in making myself +intelligible." + +His eyes opened lazily and met Rufus's sombre gaze; they held a laughing +challenge, the easy challenge of the practised fencer who condescends +to try a bout with ignorance. + +Stolidly Rufus met the look. If he realised the challenge he did not +accept it. He had barred himself in once more behind an impenetrable +wall of unresponsiveness. His gaze was once more obscure and bovine. All +hint of violence was gone from his bearing. Only solid force +remained--the force that drove the boat strongly, unerringly, through +the golden-crested waves. + +"If you're going to do a picture of Columbine," he said slowly, "I hope +it'll be a good one." + +"It will probably be--great," said Knight, and flicked some ash from his +sleeve with the complacent air of a man who has accomplished his +purpose. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MIDSUMMER MOON + + +It was very late that night, just as the first long rays of a full moon +streamed across a dreaming sea, that the door that led out of the +conservatory at The Ship softly opened, and a slim figure, clad in a +long, dark garment, flitted forth. Neither to right nor left did it +glance, but, closing the door without sound, slipped out over the grass +almost as if it moved on wings, and so down to the beach-path that wound +steeply to the shore. + +The tide was rising with the moon; the roar of it swelled and sank like +the mighty breathing of a giant. The waters shone in the gathering light +in a vast silver shimmer almost too dazzling for the eye to endure. In +another hour it would be as light as day. A few dim clouds were floating +over the stars, filmy wisps that had escaped from the ragged edges of a +dark curtain that had veiled the sun before its time. The breeze that +had blown them free wandered far overhead; below, especially on the +shore, it was almost tropically warm, and no breath of air seemed to +stir. + +Swiftly went the flitting figure, like a brown moth drawn by the +glitter of the moonlight. There was no other living thing in sight. + +All the lights of Spear Point village had gone out long since. Rufus's +cottage, with its slip of garden on the shelf of the cliff, was no more +than a faint blur of white against the towering sandstone behind. No +light had shone there all the evening, for the daylight had not died +till ten, and he was often in bed at that hour. The fishing fleet would +be out again with the dawn if the weather held, or even earlier; and the +hours of sleep were precious. + +Down on the rocks on the edge of the sleeping pool a grey shadow lurked +amidst darker shadows. A faint scent of cigarette smoke hung about the +silver beach--a drifting suggestion intangible as the magic of the +night. + +Could it have been this faint, floating fragrance that drew the flitting +brown moth by way of the quicksand, swiftly, swiftly, along the moonlit +shore travelling with mysterious certainty, irresistibly attracted? +There was no pause in its rapid progress, though the course it followed +was tortuous. It pursued, with absolute confidence, an invisible, +winding path. And ever the roar of the sea grew louder and louder. + +Across the pool, carved in the blackness of the outstretched curving +scimitar of rock, there was a ledge, washed smooth by every tide, but a +foot or more above the water when the tide was out. It was inaccessible +save by way of the pool itself, and yet it had the look of a pathway cut +in the face of the Spear Point Rock. The moonlight gleamed upon its wet +surface. In the very centre of the great curving rock there was a deeper +darkness that might have been a cave. + +It must have been after midnight when the little brown figure that had +flitted so securely through the quicksand came with its noiseless feet +over the tumble of rocks that lay about the pool, and the shadow that +lurked in the shadows rose up and became a man. + +They met on the edge of the pool, but there was about the lesser form a +hesitancy of movement, a shyness, almost a wildness, that seemed as if +it would end in flight. + +But the man remained quite motionless, and in a moment or two the +impulse passed or was controlled. Two quivering hands came forth to him +as if in supplication. + +"So you are waiting!" a low voice said. + +He took the hands, bending to her. The moonlight made his eyes gleam +with a strange intensity. + +"I have been waiting a long time," he said. + +Even then she made a small, fluttering movement backward, as if she +would evade him. And then with a sharp sob she conquered her reluctance +again. She gave herself into his arms. + +He held her closely, passionately. He kissed her face, her neck, her +bosom, as if he would devour the sweetness of her in a few mad moments +of utter abandonment. + +But in a little he checked himself. "You are so late, sweetheart. The +tide won't wait for us. There will be time for this--afterwards." + +She lay burning and quivering against his heart. "There is tomorrow," +she whispered, clinging to him. + +He kissed her again. "Yes, there is tomorrow. But who can tell what may +happen then? There will never be such a night as this again, sweet. See +the light against that rock! It is a marvel of black and white, and I +swear that the pool is green. There is magic abroad tonight. Let me +catch it! Let me catch it! Afterwards!--when the tide comes up--we will +drink our fill of love." + +He spoke as if urged by strong excitement, and having spoken his arms +relaxed. But she clung to him still. + +"Oh, darling, I am frightened--I am frightened! I couldn't come sooner. +I had a feeling--of being watched. I nearly--very nearly--didn't come at +all. And now I am here--I feel--I feel--afraid." + +He bent his face to hers again. His hand rested lightly, reassuringly +upon her head. "No, no! There is nothing to frighten you, my +passion-flower. If you had only come to me sooner it would have made it +easier for you. But now there is no time." The soothing note in his +voice sounded oddly strained, as though an undernote of fever throbbed +below it. "You're not going to fail me," he urged softly. "Think how +much it means to you--to me! And there is only half an hour left, dear. +Give me that half-hour to catch the magic! Then--when the tide comes +up"--his voice sank, he whispered deeply into her ear--"I will teach you +the greatest magic this old world knows." + +She thrilled at his words, thrilled through her trembling. She lifted +her face to the moonlight. "I love you!" she said. "Oh, I love you!" + +"And you will do this one thing for me?" he urged. + +She threw her arms wide. "I would die for you," she told him +passionately. + +A moment she stood so, then with a swift movement that had in it +something of fierce surrender she sprang away from him on to the flat +rock above the pool where but two nights before the gates of love's +wonderland had first opened to her. + +Here for a second she stood, motionless it seemed. And then strangely, +amazingly, she moved again. The brown garment slipped from her, and like +a streak of light, she was gone, and the still pool received her with a +rippling splash as of fairy laughter. + +The man on the brink drew a short, hard breath, and put his hand to his +eyes as if dazed. And from beyond the Spear Point there sounded the deep +tolling of the bell-buoy as it rocked on the rising tide. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE DEATH CURRENT + + +The pool was still again, still as a sheet of glass, reflecting the +midnight glory of the moon. It was climbing high in the sky, and the +cloud-wreaths were mounting towards it as incense smoke from an altar. +The thick, black curtain that hung in the west was growing like a +monstrous shadow, threatening to overspread the whole earth. + +Down on the silver beach, crouched on one of the rocks that bordered the +shining pool, Knight worked with fevered intensity to catch the magic of +the hour. The light was wonderful. The pool shone strangely, deeply +green; the rocks about it might have been delicately carved in ivory. +And across the pool, clear-cut against the utter darkness of the Spear +Point Rock, stood Aphrodite the Beautiful, clad in some green +translucent draperies, her black hair loose about her, her white arms +outstretched to the moonlight, her face--exquisite as a flower--upturned +to meet the glory. She was like a dream too wonderful to be true, save +for the passion that lived in her eyes. That was vivid, that was +poignant--the fire of sacrifice burning inwardly. + +The man worked on as one driven by a ruthless force. His teeth were +clenched upon his lower lip. His hands were shaking, and yet he knew +that what he did was too superb for criticism. It was the work of +genius--the driving force within that would not let him pause to listen +to the wild urgings of his heart. That might come after. But this--this +power that compelled was supreme. While it gripped him he was not his +own master. He was, as he himself had said, a slave. + +And while he worked at its behest, watching the wonderful thing that +inspiration was weaving by his hand, scarcely conscious of effort, +though the perspiration was streaming down his face, he whispered over +and over between his clenched teeth the title of the picture that was to +astonish the world--"The Goddess Veiled in Foam." + +There was no foam as yet on the pool, but he remembered how two nights +before he had seen the breaking of the first wave that had turned it +into a seething cauldron of surf. That was what he wanted now--just the +first great wave washing over her exquisite feet and flinging its +garment of spray like a flimsy veil over her perfect form. He wanted +that as he wanted nothing else on earth. And then--then--he would catch +his dream, he would chain for ever the fairy vision that might never be +granted again. + +There came a boom like a distant gunshot on the other side of the Spear +Point Rock, and again, but very far away, there sounded the tolling of +the bell beyond the reef. The man's heart gave a great leap. It was +coming! + +In the same moment the girl's voice came to him across the pool, +mingling with the rushing of great waters. + +"The tide is coming up fast. It won't be safe much longer." + +"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried back almost frantically. "It is +absolutely safe. I will swim across and help you if you are afraid. But +wait--wait just a few moments more!" + +She did not urge him. Her surrender had been too complete. Perhaps his +promise reassured her, or perhaps she did not fully realise the danger. +She waited motionless and the man worked on. + +Again there came that sound that was like the report of a distant gun, +and the roaring of the sea swelled to tumult. + +"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried again. + +But she could not have heard him in the overwhelming rush of the sea. + +There came a sudden dimness. A cloud had drifted over the moon, and +Knight looked up and cursed it with furious impatience. It passed, and +he saw her again--his vision, the goddess of his dream, still as the +rock behind her, yet splendidly alive. He bent himself again to his +work. Would that wave never come to veil her in sparkling raiment of +foam? + +Ah! At last! The peace of the pool was shattered. A shining wave, +curved, green, transparent, gleamed round the corner, ran, swift as a +flame, along the rock, and broke with a thunderous roar in a torrent of +snow-white surf. In a moment the pool was a seething tumult of water, +and in that moment Knight saw his goddess as the artist in him had +yearned to see her, her beauty half-veiled and half-revealed in a +shimmering robe of foam. + +The vision vanished. Another cloud had drifted over the moon. Only the +swirling water remained. + +Again he lifted his head to curse the fate that baffled him, and as he +did so a hand came suddenly from the darkness behind and gripped him by +the shoulder. A voice that was like the angry bellow of a bull roared in +his ear. + +What it said he did not hear; so amazed was he by the utter +unexpectedness of the attack. Before he had time to realise what was +happening, he was shaken with furious force and flung aside. He +fell--and his precious work fell with him--on the very edge of that +swirling pool.... + +Seconds later, when the moon gleamed out again, he was still frantically +groping for it on the stones. The roar of the sea was terrible and +imminent, like the roar of a destroying monster racing upon its prey, +and from the caves there came a hollow groaning as of chained spirits +under the earth. + +The light flashed away again just as he spied his treasure on the brink +of the dashing water. He sprang to save it, intent upon naught else; +but in that instant there came a roar such as he had not heard before--a +sound so compelling, so nerve-shattering, that even he was arrested, +entrapped as it were by a horror of crashing elements that made him +wonder if all the fiends in hell were fighting for his soul. And, as he +paused, the swirl of a great wave caught him in the darkness like the +blow of a concrete thing, nearly flinging him backwards. He staggered, +for the first time stricken with fear, and then in the howling uproar of +that dreadful place there came to him like a searchlight wheeling +inwards the thought of the girl. The water receded from him, leaving him +drenched, almost dazed, but a voice within--an urgent, insistent +voice--clamoured that his safety was at stake, his life a matter of mere +moments if he lingered. This was the Death Current of which Rufus had +warned him only that afternoon. Had not the bell-buoy been tolling to +deaf ears for some time past? The Death Current that came like a tidal +wave! And nothing could live in it. The girl--surely the girl had been +washed off her ledge and overwhelmed in the flood before it had reached +him. Possibly Rufus would manage to save her, for that it was Rufus who +had so savagely sprung upon him he had no doubt; but he himself was +powerless. If he saved his own life it would be by a miracle. Had not +the fellow warned him that retreat by way of the cliff-path would be cut +off in thirty seconds when the tide raced up like that? And if he failed +to reach that, only the quicksand was left--the quicksand that dragged +a man down quicker than hell! + +He set his teeth and turned his face to the cliff. A light was shining +half-way up it--that must come from the window of Rufus's cottage. He +took it as a beacon, and began to stumble through the howling darkness +towards it. He knew the cliff-path. He had come down it only that night +to make sure that there was no one spying upon them. The cottage had +been shut and dark then, the little garden empty. He had concluded that +Rufus had gone early to rest after a long day with the nets, and had +passed on securely to wait for Columbine on the edge of their magic +pool. But what he did not know was exactly where the cliff-path ran out +on to the beach. The opening was close to the Caves and sheltered by +rocks. Could he find it in this infernal darkness? Could he ever make +his way to it in time? With the waves crashing behind him he struggled +desperately towards the blackness of the cliffs. + +The rocks under his feet were wet and slippery. He fought his way over +them, feeling as if a hundred demons were in league to hold him back. +The swirl of the incoming tide sounded in his ears like a monstrous +chant of death. Again and again he slipped and fell, and yet again he +dragged himself up, grimly determined to fight the desperate battle to +the last gasp. The thought of Columbine had gone wholly from him, even +as the thought of his lost treasure. Only the elemental desire of life +gripped him, vital and urgent, forcing him to the greatest physical +effort he had ever made. He went like a goaded animal, savage, stubborn, +fiercely surmounting every obstacle, driven not so much by fear as by a +furious determination to frustrate the fate that menaced him. + +It must have been nearly a minute later that the moon shone forth again, +throwing gleaming streaks of brightness upon the mighty breakers that +had swallowed the magic pool. They were riding in past the Spear Point +in majestic and unending procession, and the rocks that surrounded the +pool were already deeply covered. The surf of one great wave was rushing +over the beach to the Caves, and the spray of it blew over Knight, +drenching him from head to foot. Desperately, by that passing gleam of +moonlight, he searched for the opening of the path, the foam of the +oncoming procession already swirling about his feet. He spied it +suddenly at length, and in the same instant something within him--could +it have been his heart?--dropped abruptly like a loosened weight to the +very depths of his being. The way of escape in that direction was +already cut off. In the darkness he had not taken a straight course, and +it was too late. + +Wildly he turned--like a hunted animal seeking refuge. With great leaps +and gigantic effort, he made for the open beach. He reached it, reached +the loose dry sand so soon to be covered by the roaring tumult of great +waters. His eyes glared out over the level stretch that intervened +between the Spear Point Rock and the harbour quay. The tide would not be +over it yet. + +He flung his last defiance to the fate that relentlessly hunted him as +he took the only alternative, and set himself to traverse the way of the +quicksand--that dragged a man down quicker than hell. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE BOON + + +Someone was mounting the steep cliff-path that led to Rufus's cottage--a +man, square-built and powerful, who carried a burden. The moon shone +dimly upon his progress through a veil of drifting cloud. He was +streaming with water at every step, but he moved as if his drenched +clothing were in no way a hindrance--steadily, strongly, with stubborn +fixity of purpose. The burden he carried hung limply in his arms, and +over his shoulder there drifted a heavy mass of wet, black hair. + +He came at length on his firm, bare feet to the little gate that led to +the lonely cottage, and, without pausing, passed through. The cottage +door was ajar. He pushed it back and entered, closing it, even as he did +so, with a backward fling of the heel. Then, in the tiny living-room, by +the light of the lamp that shone in the window, he laid his burden down. + +White and cold, she lay with closed eyes upon the little sofa, +motionless and beautiful as a statue recumbent upon a tomb, her drenched +draperies clinging about her. He stood for a second looking upon her; +then, still with the absolute steadiness of set purpose, he turned and +went into the inner room. + +He came back with a blanket, and stooping, he lifted the limp form and, +with a certain deftness that seemed a part of his immovable resolution, +he wrapped it in the rough grey folds. + +It was while he was doing this that a sudden sigh came from between the +parted lips, and the closed eyes flashed open. + +They gazed upon him in bewilderment, but he continued his ministrations +with grim persistence and an almost bovine expression of countenance. +Only when two hands came quivering out of the enveloping blanket and +pushed him desperately away did he desist. He straightened himself then +and turned away. + +"You'll be--all right," he said in his deep voice. + +Then Columbine started up on her elbow, clutching wildly at the blanket, +drawing it close about her. The cold stillness of her was gone, as +though a sudden flame had scorched her. Her face, her neck, her whole +body were burning, burning. + +"What--what happened?" she gasped. "You--why have you brought me--here?" + +He did not look at her. + +"It was the nearest place," he said. "The Death Current caught you, and +you were stunned. I got you out." + +"You--got me--out!" she repeated, saying the words slowly as if she +were teaching herself a lesson. + +He nodded his great head. + +"Yes. I came up in time. I saw what would happen. There's often a tidal +wave about now. I thought you knew that--thought Adam would have told +you. He"--his voice suddenly went a tone deeper--"knew it. I told him +this morning." + +"Ah!" She uttered the word upon a swift intake of breath; her startled +eyes suddenly dilated. "Where is he?" she said. + +The man's huge frame stiffened at the question; she saw his hands +clench. But he kept his head turned from her; she could not see his +face. There followed a pause that seemed to her fevered imagination to +have something deadly in it. Then: "I hope he's gone where he belongs," +said Rufus, with terrible deliberation. + +Her cry of agony cut across his last word like the severing of a taut +string. She leapt to her feet, in that moment of anguish supremely +forgetful of self. + +"Rufus!" she cried, and wildly gripped his arm, "You've never--left +him--to be--killed!" + +She felt his muscles harden in grim resistance to her grasp. She saw +that his averted face was set like a stone mask. + +"It's none of my business," he said, speaking through rigid lips. + +She turned from him with a gasp of horror and sprang for the door. But +in an instant he wheeled, thrust out a great arm, and caught her. His +fingers closed upon her bare shoulder. + +"Columbine!" he said. + +She resisted him frantically, bending now this way, now that. But he +held her in spite of it, held her, and slowly brought her nearer to him. + +"Stand still!" he said. + +His voice came upon her like a blow. She flinched at the sound of +it--flinched and obeyed. + +"Let me go!" she gasped out. "He--may be drowning--at this moment!" + +"Let him drown!" said Rufus. + +She lifted her tortured face in frenzied protest, but it died upon her +lips. For in that moment she met his eyes, and the blazing blue of them +made her feel as though spirit had been poured upon her flame, consuming +her. Words failed her utterly. She stood palpitating in his hold, not +breathing--a wild thing trapped. + +Slowly he bent towards her. "Let him drown!" he said again. "Do you +think I'm going to let you throw your life away for a cur like that?" + +There was uncloaked ferocity in the question. His hold was merciless. + +"I saved you," he said. "It wasn't especially easy. But I did it. For +the matter of that, I'd have gone through hell for you. And do you think +I'm going to let you go again--now?" + +She did not answer him. Only her lips moved stiffly, as though they +formed words she could not utter. She could not take her eyes from his, +though his looks seared her through and through. + +He went on, deeply, with gathering force. "He'd have let you be swept +away. He didn't care. All he wanted was to get you for his picture. That +was all he made love to you for. He'd have sacrificed you to the devil +for that. You don't believe me, maybe, but I know--I know!" + +There was savage certainty in the reiterated words, and the girl +recoiled from them, her face like death. But he held her still, +implacably, relentlessly. + +"That's all he wants of you," he said. "To use you for his purpose, and +then--to throw you aside. Why"--and he suddenly showed his clenched +teeth--"he dared--damn him!--he dared to tell me so!" + +"He--told you!" Her lips spoke the words at last, but they seemed to +come from a long way off. + +"Yes." With suppressed violence he answered her. "He didn't put it that +way--being a gentleman! But he took care to make me understand that he +only wanted you for the sake of his accursed picture. That's the only +thing that counts with him, and he's the sort not to care what he does +to get it. He wouldn't have got you--like this--if he hadn't made you +love him first. I know that too--as well as if you'd told me." + +The passion in his voice was rising, and it was as if the heat of it +rekindled her animation. With a jerky movement she flung up both her +hands, grasping tensely the arms that held her so rigidly. + +"Yes, I love him!" she said, and her voice rang wildly. "I love him! I +don't care what he is! Rufus--Rufus--oh, for the love of Heaven, don't +let him drown!" The words rushed out desperately; it was as if her whole +nature, all her pride, all her courage, were flung into that frantic +appeal. She clung to the man with straining entreaty. "Oh, go down and +save him!" she begged. "I'll do anything for you in return--anything you +like to ask! Only do this one thing for me! He may have escaped the +tide. If so, he'll try the quicksand, and he don't know the lie of it! +Rufus, you wouldn't want--your worst enemy--to die like that!" + +She broke off, wildly sobbing, yet still clinging to him in agonised +entreaty. The man's face, with its crude ferocity, the untamed glitter +of its fiery eyes, was still bent to hers, but she no longer shrank from +it. The power that moved her was too immense to be swayed by lesser +things. His attitude no longer affected her, one way or another. It had +ceased to count, so that she only wrenched from him this one great boon. + +And Rufus must have realised the fact, for he stood up sharply and +backed against the door, releasing her. + +"You don't know what you're saying," he said gruffly. + +"I do--I do!" With anguished reiteration she answered him. "I'm not the +sort that offers and then doesn't pay. Oh, don't waste time talking! +Every moment may be his last. Go down--go down to the shore! You're so +strong. Save him--save him!" + +She beat her clasped hands against his broad chest, till abruptly he put +up his own again and held them still. + +"Columbine!" For the second time he uttered her name, and for the second +time the command in his voice caught and compelled her. "Just you listen +a minute!" he said, and as he spoke his look swept her with a mastery +that dominated even her agony. "If I go and save the cur, you've done +with him for ever--you swear that?" + +"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Only go--only go!" + +But he remained square and resolute against the door. "And you'll stay +here--you swear to stay here till I come back?" + +"Yes!" she cried again. + +He bent to her once more; his gaze possessed her. "And--afterwards?" he +said, his voice deep and very low. + +Her eyes had been raised to his; they closed suddenly and sharply, as if +to shut him out. "I will give you--all I have," she said, and shivered, +violently, uncontrollably. + +The next instant his hands were gone from hers, and she was free. + +Trembling, she sank upon the sofa, hiding her face; and even as she did +so the banging of the cottage door told her he was gone. + +Thereafter she sat crouched for a long, long time in the paralysis of a +great fear. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE VISION + + +Down on the howling shore the great waves were hurling themselves in +vast cataracts of snow-white surf that shone, dimly radiant, in the +fitful moonlight. The sky was covered with broken clouds, and a rising +storm-wind blew in gusts along the cliffs. The peace of the night was +utterly shattered, the shining glory had departed. A wild and desolate +grandeur had succeeded it. + +"Shouldn't wonder if there was some trouble tonight," said Adam, awaking +to the tumult. + +"Lor' bless you!" said Mrs. Peck sensibly. "Wait till it comes." + +The hint of impatience that marked her speech was not without reason, +for a gale was to Adam as the sound of a gun to a sporting-dog. It +invariably aroused him, even from the deepest slumber, to a state of +alert expectation that to a woman as hard-working as Mrs. Peck was most +exceptionally trying. When Adam scented disaster at sea there was no +peace for either. As she was wont to remark, being the wife of the +lifeboat coxswain wasn't all jam, not by any manner of means it wasn't. +She knew now, by the way Adam turned, and checked his breathing to +listen, that the final disturbance was not far off. + +She herself feigned sleep, possibly in the hope of provoking him to +consideration for her weariness; but she knew the effort to be quite +futile even as she made it. Adam the coxswain was considerate only for +those who might be in peril. At the next heavy gust that rattled the +windows he flung the bedclothes back without the smallest thought for +his companion's comfort, and tumbled on to his feet. + +"Just going to have a look round," he said. "I'll lay the fire in the +kitchen, and you be ready to light it in a jiffy if wanted!" + +That was so like Adam. He could think of nothing but possible victims of +the storm. Mrs. Peck sniffed, and gathered the bedclothes back about her +in expressive silence. It was quite useless to argue with Adam when he +got the jumps. Experience had taught her that long since. She could only +resume her broken rest and hope that it might not be again disturbed. + +Adam pulled on his clothes with his usual brisk deftness of movement and +went downstairs. The rising storm was calling him, and he could not be +deaf to the call. He had belonged to the lifeboat ever since he had come +to man's estate, and never a storm arose but he held himself ready for +service. + +His first, almost instinctive, action was to take the key of the +lifeboat house from its nail in the kitchen. Then, whistling cheerily +below his breath, he set about laying the fire. The kettles were +already filled. Mrs. Peck always saw to that before retiring. There was +milk in the pantry, brandy in the cupboard. According to invariable +custom, all was in readiness for any possible emergency, and having +satisfied himself that this was the case, he thrust his bare feet into +boots and went to the door. + +It had begun to rain. Great drops pattered down upon him as he emerged, +and he turned back to clap his sou'wester upon his head. Then, without +further preparation, he sallied forth. + +As he went down the road that ran to the quay a terrible streak of +lightning reft the dark sky, and the wild crash of thunder that followed +drowned even the roaring babel of the sea. + +It did not check his progress; he was never one to be easily daunted. It +was contrary to his very nature to seek shelter in a storm. He went +swinging on to the very edge of the quay, and there stood facing the +violence of the waves, the fierce turmoil of striving elements. + +The tide was extraordinarily high--such a tide as he believed he had +never seen before in summer. He stood in the pouring rain and looked +first one way, then the other, with a quick birdlike scrutiny, but as +far as his eyes could pierce he saw only an empty desolation of waters. +There seemed none in need of his help that night. + +"I wonder if Rufus is awake," he speculated to the angry tumult. + +Nearly three miles out from the Spear Point there was a lighthouse with +a revolving light. That light shone towards him now, casting a weird +radiance across the tossing water, and as if in accompaniment to the +warning gleam he heard the deep toll of the bell-buoy that rocked upon +the swell. + +Adam turned about. "I'll go and knock up Rufus," he decided. "It'd be a +shame to miss a night like this." + +Again the lightning rent the sky, and the whole great outline of the +Spear Point was revealed in one awful second of intolerable radiance. +Adam's keen eye chanced to be upon it, and he saw it in such detail as +the strongest sunlight could never have achieved. The brightness +dazzled, almost shocked him, but there was something besides the +brightness that sent an odd sensation through him--a curious, sick +feeling as if he had suddenly received a blow between the shoulders. For +in that fraction of time he had seen something which reason, clamouring +against the evidence of his senses, declared to be the impossible. He +had seen a human figure--the figure of his son--clinging to the naked +face of the rock, hanging between sea and sky where scarcely a bird +could have found foothold, while something--a grey, indistinguishable +burden--hung limp across his shoulder, weighing him down. + +The thunder was still rolling around him when with a great shake Adam +pulled himself together. + +"I'm dreaming!" he told himself angrily. "A man couldn't ever climb the +Spear Point, let alone live on a ledge that wouldn't harbour a sea-gull +if he did. I'll go round to Rufus. I'll go round and knock him up." + +With the words he tramped off through the rushing rain, and leaving the +quay, struck upwards along the cliff in the direction of the narrow path +that ran down to Rufus's dwelling above the Spear Point Caves. + +Despite the spareness of his frame, he climbed the ascent with a +rapidity that made him gasp. The wind also was against him, blowing in +strong gusts, and the raging of the sea below was as the roaring of a +thousand torrents. The great waves boomed against the cliff far beyond +the summer watermark. They had long since covered the quicksand, and he +thought he felt the ground shake with the shock of them. + +He reached at length the gap in the cliff that led down to the cottage, +and here he paused; for the descent was sharp, and the light that still +filtered through the dense storm-clouds was very dim. But in a few +seconds another great flash lit up the whole wild scene. He saw again +the Spear Point Rock standing out, scimitar-like, in the sea. The water +was dashing all around it. It stood up, grim and unapproachable, the +great waves flinging their mighty clouds of spray over its stark summit. +But--possibly because he viewed it from above instead of from below--he +saw naught beside that grand and futile struggle of the elements. + +Reassured, he started in the rain and darkness down the twisting path +that led to his old home. He knew every foot of the way, but even so, he +stumbled once or twice in the gloom. + +The roaring of the sea sounded terribly near when finally he reached the +little garden-gate and caught the ray of the lamp in the window. + +Evidently it had awakened Rufus also. Almost unconsciously he quickened +his pace as he went up the path. + +He reached the door and fumbled for the latch; but ere he found it, it +was flung open, and a strange and tragic figure met him on the +threshold. + +"Ah!" cried a woman's voice. "It is you! Where--where is Rufus?" + +Adam's keen and birdlike eyes nearly leapt from his head. +"Why--Columbine?" he said. + +She was dressed in Rufus's suit of navy serge. It hung about her in +clumsy folds, and over her shoulders and about her snow-white throat her +glorious hair streamed like a black veil, still wet and shining in the +lamplight. + +She flung out her hands to him in piteous appeal. "Oh, Adam!" she said. +"Have you seen them? Have you seen Rufus? He went--he went an hour +ago--to save Mr. Knight from the quicksand!" + +Adam's quick brain leapt to instant activity. The girl's presence +baffled him, but it was no time for explanation. In some way she had +discovered Knight in danger, and had rushed to Rufus for help. +Then--then--that vision of his from the quay--that flash of +revelation--had been no dream, after all! He had seen Rufus indeed--and +probably for the last time in his life. + +He stood, struck dumb for the moment, recalling every detail of the +clinging figure that had hung above the leaping waves. Then the tragedy +in Columbine's face made him pull himself together once more. He took +her trembling hands. + +"It's no good, my girl," he said. "I seen him. Yes, I seen him. I didn't +believe my eyes, but I know now it was true. He was hanging on to a bit +of rock half-way up the Spear Point, and t'other chap was lying across +his shoulder. They've both been washed away by this, for the water's +still coming up. There's not the ghost of a chance for 'em. I say it +'cos I know--not the ghost of a chance!" + +A wild cry broke from the girl's lips. She wrenched her hands free and +beat them upon her breast. Then suddenly a burst of wild tears came to +her. She leaned against the cottage wall and sobbed in an agony that +possessed her, soul and body. + +Adam stood and looked at her. There was something terrible about the +abandonment of her grief. It made him feel that his own was almost +insignificant beside it. He had never seen any woman weep like that +before. The anguish of it went through his heart. + +He moved at length, laid a very gentle hand upon her shaking shoulder. + +"My girl--my girl!" he said. "Don't take on so! I never thought as you +cared a ha'p'orth for poor Rufus, though o' course I always knew as he +loved you like mad." + +She bowed herself lower under his hand. "And now I've killed him!" she +gasped forth inarticulately. "I've killed him!" + +"No, no, no!" protested Adam. "That ain't reasonable. Come, now--you're +distraught! You don't know what you're saying. My Rufus is a fine chap. +He'd take most any risk to save a life. He's got a big heart in him, and +he don't stop to count the cost." + +She uncovered her face sharply and looked at him, so that he clearly saw +the ravages that her distress had wrought. "That wasn't what made him +go," she said. "He wouldn't have gone but for me. It was I as made him +go. But I thought he'd be in time. I hoped he'd be in time." Her voice +rose wildly; she wrung her hands. "Oh, can't you do anything? Can't you +take out the lifeboat? There must be some way--surely there must be some +way--of saving them!" + +But Adam shook his head. "He's past our help," he said. "There's no boat +could live among them rocks in such a tide as this. We couldn't get +anywhere near. No--no, there's nothing we can do. The lad's gone--my +Rufus--finest chap along the shore, if he was my son. Never thought as +he'd go before me--never thought--never thought!" + +The loud roll of the waves filled the bitter silence that followed, but +the battering of the rain upon the cottage roof was decreasing. The +storm was no longer overhead. + +Adam leaned on the back of a chair with his head in his hands. All the +wiry activity seemed to have gone out of him. He looked old and broken. + +The girl stood motionless behind him. A strange impassivity had +succeeded her last fruitless appeal, as though through excess of +suffering her faculties were numbed, animation itself were suspended. +She leaned against the wall, staring with wide, tragic eyes at the flame +of the lamp that stood in the window. Her arms hung stiffly at her +sides, and the hands were clenched. She seemed to be gazing upon +unutterable things. + +There was nothing to be done--nothing to be done! Till the waves had +spent their fury, till that raging sea went down, they were as helpless +as babes to stay the hand of Fate. No boat could live in that fearful +turmoil of water. Adam had said it, and she knew that what he said was +true, knew by the utter dejection of his attitude, the completeness of +his despair. She had never seen Adam in despair before; probably no one +had ever seen him as he was now. He was a man to strain every nerve +while the faintest ray of hope remained. He had faced many a furious +storm, saved many a life that had been given up for lost by other men. +But now he could do nothing, and he crouched there--an old and broken +man--for the first time realising his helplessness. + +A long time passed. The only sound within the cottage was the ticking of +a grandfather-clock in a corner, while without the great sound of the +breaking seas filled all the world. The storm above had passed. Now the +thunder-blast no longer shook the cottage. A faint greyness had begun to +show beyond the lamp in the window. The dawn was drawing near. + +As one awaking from a trance of terrible visions, the girl drew a deep +breath and spoke: + +"Adam!" + +He did not stir. He had not stirred for the greater part of an hour. + +She made a curiously jerky movement, as if she wrenched herself free +from some constricting hold. She went to the bowed, despairing figure. + +"Adam, the day is breaking. The tide must be on the turn. Shan't we go?" + +He stood up with the gesture of an old man. "What's the good?" he said. +"Do you think I want to see my boy's dead body left behind by the sea?" + +She shivered at the question. "But we can't stay here," she urged. "Aunt +Liza, you know--she'll be wondering." + +"Ah!" He passed his hand over his eyes. He was swaying a little as he +stood. She supported his elbow, for he seemed to have lost control of +his limbs. He stared at her in a dazed way. "You'd better go and tell +your Aunt Liza," he said. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Maybe my +boy'll come and talk to me if I'm alone. We're partners, you know, and +we lived here a good many years alone together. He wouldn't leave +me--not for the long voyage--without a word. Yes, you go, my dear, you +go! I'll stay here and wait for him." + +She saw that no persuasion of hers would move him, and it seemed useless +to remain. An intolerable restlessness urged her, moreover, to be gone. +The awful inertia of the past two hours had turned into a fevered desire +for action. It was the swing of the pendulum, and she felt that if she +did not respond to it she would go mad. + +Her knees were still trembling under her, but she controlled them and +turned to the door. As she lifted the latch she looked back and saw Adam +drop heavily into the chair upon which he had leaned for so long. His +attitude was one of almost stubborn patience, but it was evident that +her presence had ceased to count with him. He was waiting--she saw it +clearly in every line of him--waiting to bid his boy Godspeed ere he +fared forth finally on the long voyage from which there is no return. + +A sharp sob rose in her throat. She caught her hand to it, forcing it +back. Then, barefooted, she stepped out into the grey dimness that +veiled all things, and left the door of Rufus's cottage open behind +her. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE LONG VOYAGE + + +She never remembered afterwards how she accomplished the homeward +journey. The rough stones cut her feet again and again, but she never +felt the pain. She went as one who has an urgent mission to perform, +though what that mission was she scarcely knew. + +The night--that night of dreadful tragedy--had changed her. Columbine, +the passionate, the impulsive had turned into a being that was foreign +to herself. All the happy girlhood had been stamped out of her as by the +cruel pressure of a hot iron. She had ceased to feel the agony of it; +somehow she did not think that she ever could feel pain again. The nerve +tissues had been destroyed and all vitality was gone. The creature that +passed like a swift shadow through the twilight of the dawn was an old +and withered woman who had lived beyond her allotted time. + +She reached the old Ship Inn, meeting no one. She entered by the door of +the conservatory through which she had flitted æons and æons before to +meet her lover. She went to her room and changed into her own clothes. +The suit that had belonged to Rufus so long ago she laid away with an +odd reverence, still scarcely knowing what she did, driven as it were by +a mechanism that worked without any volition of hers. + +Then she went to the glass and began to coil up her hair. It was dank +and heavy yet with the seawater, but she wound it about her head without +noticing. The light was growing, and she peered at herself with a +detached sort of curiosity, till something in her own eyes frightened +her, and she turned away. + +She went to the window and opened it wide. The sound of the sea yet +filled the world, but it was not so insistent as it had been. The waves, +though mountainous still, were gradually receding from the shore. It was +as though the dawn had come just in time to prevent the powers of +darkness from triumphing. + +She heard someone moving in the house and turned back into the room. +Aunt Liza must be told. + +Through the spectral dawnlight she went down the stairs and took her way +to the kitchen. The door stood half open; she heard the cheery crackling +of the newly lighted fire before she entered. And hearing it, she was +aware of a great coldness that clung like a chain, fettering her every +movement. + +Someone moved as she pushed open the door. An enormous shadow leaped +upon the wall like a fantastic monster of the deep. She recoiled for a +second, then, as if drawn against her will, she entered. + +By the ruddy glow of the fire she saw a man's broad-chested figure, she +saw the gleam of tawny hair above a thick bull-neck. He was bending +slightly over the fire at her entrance, but, hearing her, he turned. And +in that moment every numbed nerve in Columbine's body was pierced into +quivering life. + +She stood as one transfixed, and he stood motionless also in the +flickering light of the flames, gazing at her with eyes of awful blue +that were as burning spirit. But he spoke not a word--not a word. How +could a dead man speak? + +And as they stood thus, facing each other, the floor between them began +suddenly to heave, became a mass of seething billows that rocked her, +caught her, engulfed her. She went down into them, and as the tossing +darkness received her, her last thought was that Rufus had come back +indeed--not to say farewell, but to take her with him on the long +voyage from which there is no return.... + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DEEP WATERS + + +Wild white roses that grew in the sandy stubble above the shore, little +orange-scented roses that straggled through the grass--they called to +something that ran in Columbine's blood, they spoke to her of the South. +She was sure that she would find those roses all about her feet when she +came to the end of the long voyage. She would see their golden hearts +wide open to the sun. For their fragrance haunted her day by day as she +floated down the long glassy stretches and rocked on the waveless +swells. + +Sometimes she had a curious fancy that she was lying dead, and they had +strewn the sweet flowers all about her. She hoped that they might not be +buried with her; they were too beautiful for that. + +At other times she thought of them as a bridal wreath, purer than the +purest orange-blossom that ever decked a bride. Once, too--this was when +she was nearing the end of the voyage--there came to her a magic whiff +of wet bog-myrtle that made her fancy that she must be a bride indeed. + +At last, just when it seemed to her that her boat was gently grounding +upon the sand where the little white roses grew, she opened her eyes +widely, wonderingly, and realised that the voyage was over. + +She was lying in her own little room at The Ship, and Mrs. Peck, with +motherly kindness writ large on her comely, plump face, was bending over +her with a cup of steaming broth in her hand. + +Columbine gazed at her with a bewildered sense of having slept too long. + +Mrs. Peck nodded at her cheerily. "There, my dear! You're better, I can +see. A fine time you've given us. I thought as I should never see your +bright eyes again." + +Columbine put forth a trembling hand with a curious feeling that it did +not belong to her at all. "Have I been ill?" she said. + +Mrs. Peck nodded again cheerily. "Why, it's more than a week you've been +lying here, and how I have worrited about you! Prostration following +severe shock was what the doctor called it, but it looked to me more +like a touch of brain fever. But there, you're better! Drink this like a +good girl, and you'll feel better still!" + +Meekly, with the docility of great weakness, Columbine swallowed the +proffered nourishment. She wanted to recall all that had happened, but +her brain felt too clogged to serve her. She could only lie and gaze and +gaze at a little vase of wild white roses that faced her upon the +mantelpiece. Somehow those roses seemed to her to play an oddly +important part in her awakening. + +"Where did they come from?" she suddenly asked. + +Mrs. Peck glanced up indifferently. "They're just those little common +things that grow with the pinks on the cliff," she said. + +But that did not satisfy Columbine. "Who brought them in?" she said. +"Who gathered them?" + +Mrs. Peck hesitated momentarily, almost as if she did not want to +answer. Then, half defiantly, "Why, Rufus, to be sure," she said. + +"Rufus!" A great hot wave of crimson suddenly suffused Columbine's +face--a pitiless, burning blush that spread tingling over her whole +body. + +She lay very still while it lasted, and Mrs. Peck set down the cup and, +rising energetically, began to tidy the room. + +At length, faintly, the girl spoke again: "Aunt Liza!" + +Mrs. Peck turned. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look half +stern and yet half compassionate. "There, my dear, that'll do," she +said. "I think you've talked enough. The doctor said as I was to keep +you very quiet, especially when you began to get back your senses. Shut +your eyes, do, and go to sleep!" + +But Columbine's eyes remained open. "I'm not sleepy," she said. "And I +must speak to you. I want to know--I must know"--she faltered painfully, +but forced herself to continue--"Rufus--did he--did he really come +back--that night?" + +Mrs. Peck's compassion perceptibly diminished and her severity +increased. "Oh, if you want the whole story," she said, "you'd better +have it and have done; that is, so far as I know it myself. There are +certain ins and outs that I don't know even yet, for Rufus can be very +secretive if he likes. Well then, yes, he did come back, and he brought +Mr. Knight with him. They were washed up by a great wave that dropped +'em high and dry near the quay. Mr. Knight was half drowned, and Rufus +left him at Sam Jefferson's cottage and came on here for brandy and hot +milk and such. He wasn't a penny the worse himself, but I suppose you +thought it was his ghost. You behaved like as if you did, anyway. That's +all I can tell you. Mr. Knight he got better in a day or two, and he's +gone, said he'd had enough of it, and I don't blame him neither. Now +that'll do for the present. By and by, when you're stronger, maybe I'll +ask you to tell me something. But the doctor says as I'm not to let you +talk at present." + +Mrs. Peck took up the empty cup with the words, and turned with decision +to the door. + +Columbine did not attempt to detain her. She had read the doubt in the +good woman's eyes, and she was thankful at that moment for the reprieve +that the doctor's fiat had secured her. + +She lay for a long, long time without moving after Mrs. Peck's +departure. Her brain felt unutterably weary, but it was clear, and she +was able to face the situation in all its grimness. Mr. Knight had +gone. Mr. Knight had had enough of it. Had he really left without a +word? Was she, then, so little to him as that? She, who had clung to +him, had offered him unconditionally and without stint all that was +hers! + +She remembered how he had said that it would not last, that love was +moonshine, love would pass. And how passionately--and withal how +fruitlessly!--had she revolted against that pronouncement of his! She +had declared that such was not love, and he--he had warned her against +loving too well, giving too freely. With cruel distinctness it all came +back to her. She felt again those hot kisses upon brow and lips and +throat. Though he had warned her against giving, he had not been slow to +take. He had revelled in the abandonment of that first free love of +hers. He had drained her of all that she held most precious that he +might drink his fill. And all for what? Again she burned from head to +foot, and, groaning, hid her face. All for the making of a picture that +should bring him world-wide fame! His love for her had been naught but +small change flung liberally enough that he might purchase therewith the +desire of his artist's soul. It had been just a means to an end. No more +than that! No more than that! + + * * * + +Time passed, but she knew naught of its passing. She was in a place of +bitterness very far removed from the ordinary things of life. She shed +no tears. The misery and shame that burned her soul were beyond all +expression or alleviation. She could have laughed over the irony of it +all more easily than she could have wept. + +That she--the proud and dainty, for whom no one had been good +enough--should have fallen thus easily to the careless attraction of a +man to whom she was nothing, nothing but a piece of prettiness to be +bought as cheaply as possible and treasured not at all. Some whim of +inspiration had moved him. He had obeyed his Muse. And he had been +ready--he had been ready--even to offer her life in sacrifice to his +idol. She did not count with him in the smallest degree. He had never +cared--he had never cared! + +She lifted her face at last. The torture was eating into her soul. It +was more than she could bear. All the tender words he had spoken, the +caresses he had lavished upon her, were as burning darts that pierced +her whichever way she turned. Her surrender had been so free, so +absolute, and in return he had left her in the dark. He had gone his +careless way without a single thought for all the fierce devotion she +had poured out to him. It had only appealed to him while the mood +lasted. And now he had had enough of it. He had gone. + +The murmur of the summer sea came to her as she lay, and she thought of +the Death Current. Why--ah, why--had it been cheated of its prey? She +shivered violently as the memory of that awful struggle in deep waters +came to her. She had been saved, how she scarcely realised, though deep +within her she knew--she knew! + +Her burning eyes fell upon the little wild white roses on the shelf. Why +had he brought them to her? Why had he chosen them? She felt as if they +held a message for her, but it was a message she did not dare to read. +And then again she quivered as the dread memory of that night swept over +her anew, and the eyes of flaming blue that had looked into hers. + +Somewhere--somewhere outside herself, it seemed to her--a voice was +speaking, very articulate and persistent, and she could not shut out the +words it uttered. She lacked the strength. + +"I always knew," it said, and it averred it over and over again, "as he +loved you like mad." + +Love! Love! But what was Love? Was any man capable of it? Was it ever +anything more than brutal passion or callous amusement? And hearts were +broken and lives were ruined to bring men sport. + +She clenched her hands, still gazing at the wild white roses with their +orange scent of purity. Why had he sent them? What had moved him to +gather them? He who had bargained with her, had wrung from her +submission to his will as it were at the sword's point! He who had +forced her to promise herself to him! What was love--or the making of +love--to such as he? + +The sweetness of the flowers seemed to pierce her. Ah, if they had only +been Knight's gift, how different--how different--had been all things. + +But they had come from Rufus. And so somehow their message passed her +by. The blackness of utter misery, utter hopelessness, closed in like a +prison-cell around her soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE SAFE HAVEN + + +In the days that followed, Mrs. Peck's honest soul was both vexed and +anxious concerning her charge. She found Columbine extraordinarily +reticent. As she herself put it, it was impossible to get any sense out +of her. + +In compliance with the doctor's order and by the exercise of extreme +self-restraint, she refrained from questioning her upon the matter of +her behaviour on the night of the great tide. That Columbine would have +enlightened her had she done so was exceedingly doubtful. But there was +no doubt that something very unusual had taken place. The little white +roses that Rufus presented as a daily offering would have told her that, +apart from any other indications. She would have questioned Rufus, but +something held her back; and Adam, when urged thereto, flatly refused to +interfere. + +Adam, rejuvenated and jubilant, went whistling about his work as of +yore. His boy had come back to him in the flesh, and he was more than +satisfied to leave things as they were. + +"Leave 'em alone, Missus!" was his counsel "Rufus he knows what he's +about. He'll steer a straight course, and he'll bring her into harbour +sooner or later. You leave it to him, and be thankful that curly-topped +chap has sheered off at last!" + +Mrs. Peck had no choice but to obey, but her anxiety regarding Columbine +did not diminish. The girl was so listless, so unlike herself, so +miserable. It was many days before she summoned the energy to dress, and +even then she displayed an almost painful reluctance to go downstairs. +She seemed to live in continual dread of some approaching ordeal. + +"I believe it's Rufus she's afraid of," was Mrs. Peck's verdict. + +But Adam scouted the idea as absurd. "What will you think of next, +woman? Why, any one can see as he's quiet and well-behaved enough for +any lass. She's missing the curly-topped chap a bit maybe. But she'll +get over that. Give her time! Give her time!" + +So Mrs. Peck gave her time and urged her not at all. She was not very +friendly with Columbine in those days. She disapproved of her, and her +manner said as much. She kept all suspicions to herself, but she could +not behave as if nothing had happened. + +"There's wild blood in her," she said darkly. "I mistrust her." + +And Columbine was fully aware of the fact, but she was too wretched to +resent it. In any case, she would never have turned to Mrs. Peck for +comfort. + +She came downstairs at last one summer evening when Mrs. Peck was busy +in the kitchen and no one was about. She had made no mention of her +intention; perhaps she wanted to be unhampered by observation. It had +been a soft, showery day, and there was the promise of more rain in the +sky. + +She moved wearily, but not without purpose; and soon she was walking +with a hood drawn over her head in the direction of the cliff-edge where +grew the sweet bog-myrtle and the little roses. + +She met no one by the way. It was nearing the hour for the evening meal, +nearing the hour when Mrs. Peck usually entered her room with the daily +offering of flowers that filled it with orange fragrance. Mrs. Peck was +not very fond of that particular task, though she never expressed her +reluctance. Well, she would not have it to accomplish tonight. + +A bare-legged, blue-jerseyed figure was moving in a bent attitude along +the slope that overlooked Rufus's cottage and the Spear Point. The girl +stood a moment gazing out over the curving reef as if she had not seen +it. The pool was smooth as a mirror, and reflecting the drifting clouds. +The tide was out. But, stay! It must be on the turn, for as she stood, +there came the deep, tolling note of the bell-buoy. It sounded like a +knell. + +As it struck solemnly over the water, the man straightened himself, and +in a moment he saw her. + +He did not move to meet her, merely stood motionless, nearly knee-deep +in the bog-myrtle, and waited for her, the white roses in one great, +clenched hand. And she, as if compelled, moved towards him, till at last +she reached and stood before him, white, mute, passive as a prisoner in +iron fetters. + +It was the man who spoke, with an odd jerkiness of tone and demeanour +that might have indicated embarrassment or even possibly some deeper +emotion. "So you've come along at last!" he said. + +She nodded. For an instant her dark eyes were raised, but they flashed +downwards again immediately, almost before they had met his own. + +Abruptly he thrust out to her the flowers he held. "I was getting these +for you." + +She took them in a trembling hand. She bent her face over them to hide +the piteous quivering of her lips. "Why--do you get them?" she whispered +almost inarticulately. + +He did not answer for a moment. Then: "Come down to my place!" he said. +"It's but a step." + +She made a swift gesture that had in it something of recoil, but the +next moment, without a word, she began to walk down the slope. + +He trod through the growth beside her, barefooted, unfaltering. His blue +eyes looked straight before him; they were unwavering and resolute as +the man himself. + +They reached the cottage. He made her enter it before him, and he +followed, but he did not close the door. Instead, he stopped and +deliberately hooked it back. + +Then, with the low call of the sea filling the humble little room, he +turned round to the girl, who stood with her head bent, awaiting his +pleasure. + +"Columbine," he said, and the name came with an unaccustomed softness +from his lips, "I've something to say to you. You've been hiding +yourself from me. I know. I know. And you needn't. Them flowers--I +gathered 'em and I sent 'em up to you every day, because I wanted you to +understand as you've nothing to fear from me. I wanted you to know as +everything is all right, and I mean well by you. I didn't know how to +tell you, and then I saw the roses growing outside the door, and I +thought as maybe they'd do it for me. They made me think of you somehow. +They were so white--and pure." + +"Ah!" The word was a wrung sound, half cry, half sob. His roses fell +suddenly and scattered upon the floor between them. Columbine's hands +covered her face. + +She stood for a second or two in tense silence, then under her breath +she spoke. "You don't believe--that--of me!" + +"I do, then," asserted Rufus, in his deep voice a note that was almost +aggressive. + +She lifted her face suddenly, even fiercely, showing him the shamed +blush that burned there. "You didn't believe it--that night!" she said. + +His eyes met hers with a certain stubbornness. "All right. I didn't," he +said. + +Her look became a challenge. "Then why--how--have you come to change +your mind?" + +He faced her steadily. "Maybe I know you better than I knew you then," +he said slowly. + +She made a sharp gesture as if pierced by an intolerable pain. "And +that--that has made a difference to your--your intentions!" + +He moved also at that. His red brows came together. "You're quite +wrong," he said, his voice very low. "That night--I know--I was beyond +myself, I was mad. But since then I've some to my senses. And--I love +you too much to harm you. That's the truth. I'd love you +anyway--whatever you were. It's just my nature to." + +His hands clenched with the words; he spoke with strong effort; but his +eyes looked deeply into hers, and they held no passion. They were still +and quiet as the summer sea below them. + +Columbine stood facing him as if at bay, but she must have felt the +influence of his restraint, for she showed no fear. "There's no such +thing as love," she said bitterly. "You dress it up and call it that. +But all the time it's something quite different. And I tell you +this"--recklessly she flung the words--"that if it hadn't been for that +tidal wave I'd be just what you took me for that night, what Aunt Liza +thinks I am this minute. I wasn't keeping back--anything, and"--she +uttered a sudden wild laugh--"if I've kept my virtue, I've lost my +innocence. I know--I know now--just what the thing you call love is +worth! And nothing will ever make me forget it!" + +She stopped, quivering from head to foot, passionate protest in every +line. + +But the blue eyes that watched her never wavered. The man's face was +rock-like in its steadfast calm. He did not speak for a full minute +after the utterance of her wild words. Then very steadily, very +forcibly, he answered her. "I'll tell you, shall I, what the thing I +call love is like?" He turned with a sweep of the arm and pointed out to +the harbour beyond the quay. "It's just like that. It's a wall to keep +off the storms. It's a safe haven where nothing hurtful can reach you. +You're not bound to give yourself to it, but once given you're safe." + +"Not bound!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "Not bound--when you made me +promise--" + +He dropped his arm to his side. "I set you free from that promise," he +said. + +Those few words, sombrely spoken, checked her wild outburst as surely as +a hand upon her mouth. She stood gazing at him for a space in utter +amazement, but gradually under his unchanging regard her look began to +fail. She turned at length with a little gasp, and sat down on the old +horsehair sofa, huddling herself together as if she desired to withdraw +herself from his observation. + +He did not stir, and a long, long silence fell between them, broken +only by the ticking of the grandfather-clock in the corner and the +everlasting murmur of the sea. + +The deep, warning note of the bell-buoy floated presently through the +summer silence, and as if in answer to a voice Rufus moved at last and +spoke. "You'd better go, lass. They'll be wondering about you. But don't +be afraid of me after this! I swear--before God--I'll give you no +cause!" + +She started a little at the sound of his voice, but she made no movement +to go. Her face was hidden in her hands. She rocked herself to and fro, +to and fro, as if in pain. + +He stood looking down at her with troubled eyes, but after a while, as +she did not speak, he moved to her side and stood there. At last, slowly +and massively, he stooped and touched her. + +"Columbine!" + +She made no direct response, only suddenly, as if his action had +released in her such a flood of emotion as was utterly beyond her +control, she broke into violent weeping, her head bowed low upon her +knees. + +"My dear!" he said. + +And then--how it came about neither of them ever knew--he was on his +knees beside her, holding her close in his great arms, and she was +sobbing out her agony upon his breast. + +It lasted for many minutes that storm of weeping. All the torment of +humiliation and grief, which till then had found no relief, was poured +out in that burning torrent of tears. She clung to him convulsively as +though she even yet struggled in the deep waters, and he held her +through it all with that sustaining strength that had borne her up +safely against the Death Current on that night of dreadful storm. + +Possibly the firm upholding of his arms brought back the memory of that +former terrible struggle, for it was of that that she first spoke when +speech became possible. + +"Oh, why didn't you leave me to die? Why--why--why?" + +He answered her in a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of the +broad chest that supported her. + +"I wanted you." + +She buried her face deeper that he might not see the cruel burning of +it. "So did he--then." + +"Not he!" The deep voice held unutterable contempt. "He wanted to make +his fortune out of you, that's all. He didn't care whether you lived or +died, the damn' cur!" + +She shrank at the fierce words, and was instantly aware of the jealous +closing of his arms about her. + +"You aren't going to break your heart for a dirty swab like that," he +said, with more of insistence than interrogation in his voice. "Look you +here, Columbine! You're too honest to care for a beast like that. +Why--though I pulled him out of the quicksand and saved him from the +sea--I'd have wrung his neck if he'd stayed another day. I would that." + +She started at the fiery declaration, and raised her head. "Oh, it was +you who sent him away, then?" + +Her look held almost desperate entreaty for a moment, but he met it with +the utmost grimness and it quickly died. + +"I didn't then," he said, with rough simplicity. "He made up his mind +without any help from me. He knew he couldn't face you again. It's not a +mite of good trying to deceive yourself now you know the truth. He's +gone, and he won't come back. Columbine, don't tell me as you want him +to!" + +His expression for the moment was formidable. She caught an ominous +gleam in the stern eyes, but almost immediately they softened. He +uttered a sigh that ended in a groan. "Now I'm being a brute to you, +when there's nothing that I wouldn't do for your sake." His voice shook +a little. "You won't believe it, but it's true--it's true." + +"Why shouldn't I believe it?" she said swiftly. She had begun to tremble +in his hold. + +He looked at her with an odd wistfulness. "Because I'm too big an +oaf--to make you understand," he said. + +"And that is why you have set me free?" she questioned. + +He bent his head, almost as if the sudden question embarrassed him. +"Yes, that," he said after a moment. "And because I care too much about +you to--marry you against your will." + +"And you call that love?" she said. + +He made a slight gesture of surprise. "It is love," he said simply. + +His arms were still around her, but she had only to move to be free. She +did not move, save that she quivered like a vibrating wire, quivered and +hid her face. + +"Rufus!" she said. + +"Yes?" His head was bent above hers, but he could only see her black +hair, so completely was her face averted from him. + +Her voice came, tensely whispering. "What if I were--willing to marry +you?" + +Something of her agitation had entered into him. A great quiver went +through him also. But--"You're not," he said quietly, with conviction. + +A trembling hand strayed upwards, feeling over his neck and throat, +groping for his face. "Rufus"--again came the tense whisper--"how do you +know that?" + +He took the wandering hand and pressed it softly against his cheek. +"Because you don't love me, Columbine," he said. + +"Ah!" A low sob escaped her; she lifted her head suddenly; the tears +were running down her face. "But--but--you could teach me, Rufus. You +could teach me what love--true love--is. I want the real thing--the real +thing. Will you give it to me? I want it--more than anything else in +the world." She drew nearer to him with the words, like a frozen +creature seeking warmth, and in a moment her arms were slipping round +his neck. "You are so true--so strong!" she sobbed. "I want to forget--I +want to forget that I ever loved--any one but you." + +His arms were close about her again. He pressed her so hard against his +heart that she felt its strong beating against her own. His eyes gazed +straight into hers, and in them she saw again that deep, deep blue as of +flaming spirit. + +"You mean it?" he said. + +Breathlessly she answered him. "Yes, I mean it." + +"Then"--he bent his great head to her, and for the fraction of a moment +she saw the meteor-like flash of his smile--"yes, I'll teach you, +Columbine," he said. + +With the words he kissed her on the lips, kissed her closely, kissed her +lingeringly, and in that kiss her torn heart found its first balm of +healing. + + * * * + +"Well, what did I say?" crowed Adam a little later. "Didn't I tell you +if you left 'em alone he'd steer her safe into harbour? Wasn't I right, +missus? Wasn't I right?" + +"I'm not gainsaying it," said Mrs. Peck, with a touch of severity. "And +I'm sure I hope as all will turn out for the best." + +"Turn out for the best? Why, o' course it will!" said Adam, with cheery +confidence. "My son Rufus he may be slow, but he's no fool. And he's a +good man, too, missus, a long sight better than that curly-topped chap. +Him and me's partners, so I ought to know." + +"To be sure you ought," said Mrs. Peck tolerantly. "And it's to be hoped +that Columbine knows it as well." + +And in the solitude of her own room Columbine bent her dainty head and +kissed with reverence the little wild white roses that spoke to her of +the purity of a good man's love. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE MAGIC CIRCLE + + +The persistent chirping of a sparrow made it almost harder to bear. Lady +Brooke finally rose abruptly from the table, her black brows drawn close +together, and swept to the window to scare the intruder away. + +"I really have not the smallest idea what your objections can be," she +observed, pausing with her back to the room. + +"A little exercise of your imagination might be of some assistance to +you," returned her husband dryly, not troubling to raise his eyes from +his paper. + +He was leaning back in a chair in an attitude of unstudied ease. It was +characteristic of Sir Roland Brooke to make himself physically +comfortable at least, whatever his mental atmosphere. He seldom raised +his voice, and never swore. Yet there was about him a certain amount of +force that made itself felt more by his silence than his speech. + +His young wife, though she shrugged her shoulders and looked +contemptuous, did not venture upon open defiance. + +"I am to decline the invitation, then?" she asked presently, without +turning. + +"Certainly!" Sir Roland again made leisurely reply as he scanned the +page before him. + +"And give as an excuse that you are too staunch a Tory to approve of +such an innovation as the waltz?" + +"You may give any excuse that you consider suitable," he returned with +unruffled composure. + +"I know of none," she answered, with a quick vehemence that trembled on +the edge of rebellion. + +Sir Roland turned very slowly in his chair and regarded the delicate +outline of his wife's figure against the window-frame. + +"Then, my dear," he said very deliberately, "let me recommend you once +more to have recourse to your ever romantic imagination!" + +She quivered, and clenched her hands, as if goaded beyond endurance. +"You do not treat me fairly," she murmured under her breath. + +Sir Roland continued to look at her with the air of a naturalist +examining an interesting specimen of his cult. He said nothing till, +driven by his scrutiny, she turned and faced him. + +"What is your complaint?" he asked then. + +She hesitated for an instant. There was doubt--even a hint of +fear--upon her beautiful face. Then, with a certain recklessness, she +spoke: + +"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I never +dreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrifice +this." + +Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat and +passively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached and +waning interest. + +"I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage has +ceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you was +ever very strong." + +Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh. + +"It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It is +scarcely surprising that it did not flourish." + +Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from his +face. He looked supremely bored. + +Lady Brooke moved towards the door. + +"It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "A +labourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I." + +"Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "A +labourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten her +spirit, and she is considerably the better for it." + +His wife stood still, very erect and queenly. + +"Not only the better, but the happier," she said very bitterly. "Even a +dog would rather be beaten than kicked to one side." + +Sir Roland lowered his paper again with startling suddenness. + +"Is that your point of view?" he said. "Then I fear I have been +neglecting my duty most outrageously. However, it is an omission easily +remedied. Let me hear no more of this masquerade, Lady Brooke! You have +my orders, and if you transgress them you will be punished in a fashion +scarcely to your liking. Is that clearly understood?" + +He looked straight up at her with cold, smiling eyes that yet seemed to +convey a steely warning. + +She shivered very slightly as she encountered them. "You make a mockery +of everything," she said, her voice very low. + +Sir Roland uttered a quiet laugh. + +"I am nevertheless a man of my word, Naomi," he said. "If you wish to +test me, you have your opportunity." + +He immersed himself finally in his paper as he ended, and she, with a +smile of proud contempt, turned and passed from the room. + +She had married him out of pique, it was true, but life with him had +never seemed intolerable until he had shown her that he knew it. + +She took her invitation with her, and in her own room sat down to read +it once again. It was from a near neighbour, Lady Blythebury, an +acquaintance with whom she was more intimate than was Sir Roland. Lady +Blythebury was a very lively person indeed. She had been on the stage in +her young days, and she had decidedly advanced ideas on the subject of +social entertainment. As a hostess, she was notorious for her +originality and energy, and though some of the county families +disapproved of her, she always knew how to secure as many guests as she +desired. Lady Brooke had known her previous to her own marriage, and she +clung to this friendship, notwithstanding Sir Roland's very obvious lack +of sympathy. + +He knew Lord Blythebury in the hunting-field. Their properties adjoined, +and it was inevitable that certain courtesies should be exchanged. But +he refused so steadily to fall a captive to Lady Blythebury's bow and +spear, that he very speedily aroused her aversion. He soon realised that +her influence over his wife was very far from benevolent towards +himself, but, save that he persisted in declining all social invitations +to Blythebury, he made no attempt to counteract the evil. In fact, it +was not his custom to coerce her. He denied her very little, though with +regard to that little he was as adamant. + +But to Naomi his non-interference was many a time more galling than his +interdiction. It was but seldom that she attempted to oppose him, and, +save that Lady Blythebury's masquerade had been discussed between them +for weeks, she would not have greatly cared for his refusal to attend +it. When Sir Roland asserted himself, it was her habit to yield without +argument. + +But now, for the first time, she asked herself if he were not presuming +upon her wifely submission. He would think more of her if she resisted +him, whispered her hurt pride, recalling the courteous indifference +which it was his custom to mete out to her. But dared she do this +thing? + +She took up the invitation again and read it. It was to be a fancy-dress +ball, and all were to wear masks. The waltz which she had learned to +dance from Lady Blythebury herself and which was only just coming into +vogue in England, was to be one of the greatest features of the evening. +There would be no foolish formality, Lady Blythebury had assured her. +The masks would preclude that. Altogether the whole entertainment +promised to be of so entrancing a nature that she had permitted herself +to look forward to it with considerable pleasure. But she might have +guessed that Sir Roland would refuse to go, she reflected, as she sat in +her dainty room with the invitation before her. Did he ever attend any +function that was not so stiff and dull that she invariably pined to +depart from the moment of arrival? + +Again she read the invitation, recalling Lady Blythebury's gay words +when last they had talked the matter over. + +"If only Una could come without the lion for once!" she had said. + +And she herself had almost echoed the wish. Sir Roland always spoilt +everything. + +Well!--She took up her pen. She supposed she must refuse. A moment it +hovered above the paper. Then, very slowly, it descended and began to +write. + + * * * + +The chatter of many voices and the rhythm of dancing feet, the strains +of a string-band in the distance, and, piercing all, the clear, high +notes of a flute, filled the spring night with wonderful sound. Lady +Blythebury had turned her husband's house into a fairy palace of +delight. She stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her florid face +beaming above her Elizabethan ruffles, looking in upon the gay and +ever-shifting scene which she had called into being. + +"I feel as if I had stepped into an Arabian Night," she laughed to one +of her guests, who stood beside her. He was dressed as a court jester, +and carried a wand which he flourished dramatically. He wore a +close-fitting black mask. + +"There is certainly magic abroad," he declared, in a rich, Irish brogue +that Lady Blythebury smiled to hear. For she also was Irish to the +backbone. + +"You know something of the art yourself, Captain Sullivan?" she asked. + +She knew the man for a friend of her husband's. He was more or less +disreputable, she believed, but he was none the less welcome on that +account. It was just such men as he who knew how to make things a +success. She relied upon the disreputable more than she would have +admitted. + +"Egad, I'm no novice in most things!" declared the court jester, waving +his wand bombastically. "But it's the magic of a pretty woman that I'm +after at the present moment. These masks, Lady Blythebury, are uncommon +inconvenient. It's yourself that knows better than to wear one. Sure, +beauty should never go veiled." + +Lady Blythebury laughed indulgently. Though she knew it for what it was, +the fellow's blarney was good to hear. + +"Ah, go and dance!" she said. "I've heard all that before. It never +means anything. Go and dance with the little lady over there in the pink +domino! I give you my word that she is pretty. Her name is Una, but she +is minus the lion on this occasion. I shall tell you no more than that." + +"Egad! It's more than enough!" said the court jester, as he bowed and +moved away. + +The lady indicated stood alone in the curtained embrasure of a +bay-window. She was watching the dancers with an absorbed air, and did +not notice his approach. + +He drew near, walking with a free swagger in time to the haunting +waltz-music. Reaching her, he stopped and executed a sweeping bow, his +hand upon his heart. + +"May I have the pleasure--" + +She looked up with a start. Her eyes shone through her mask with a +momentary irresolution as she bent in response to his bow. + +With scarcely a pause he offered her his arm. + +"You dance the waltz?" + +She hesitated for a second; then, with an affirmatory murmur, accepted +the proffered arm. The bold stare with which he met her look had in it +something of compulsion. + +He led her instantly away from her retreat, and in a moment his hand was +upon her waist. He guided her into the gay stream of dancers without a +word. + +They began to waltz--a dream--waltz in which she seemed to float without +effort, without conscious volition. Instinctively she responded to his +touch, keenly, vibrantly aware of the arm that supported her, of the +dark, free eyes that persistently sought her own. + +"Faith!" he suddenly said in his soft, Irish voice. "To find Una without +the lion is a piece of good fortune I had scarcely prayed for. And what +was the persuasion that you used at all to keep the monster in his den?" + +She glanced up, half-startled by his speech. What did this man know +about her? + +"If you mean my husband," she said at last, "I did not persuade him. He +never wished or intended to come." + +Her companion laughed as one well pleased. + +"Very generous of him!" he commented, in a tone that sent the blood to +her cheeks. + +He guided her dexterously among the dancers. The girl's breath came +quickly, unevenly, but her feet never faltered. + +"If I were the lion," said her partner daringly, "by the powers, I'd +play the part! I wouldn't be a tame beast, egad! If Una went out to a +fancy ball, my faith, I would go too!" + +Lady Brooke uttered a little, excited laugh. The words caught her +interest. + +"And suppose Una went without your leave?" she said. + +The Irishman looked at her with a humorous twist at one corner of his +mouth. + +"I'm thinking that I'd still go too," he said. + +"But if you didn't know?" She asked the question with a curious +vehemence. Her instinct told her that, however he might profess to +trifle, here at least was a man. + +"That wouldn't happen," he said, with conviction, "if I were the lion." + +The music was quickening to the _finale_, and she felt the strong arm +grow tense about her. + +"Come!" he said. "We will go into the garden." + +She went with him because it seemed that she must, but deep in her heart +there lurked a certain misgiving. There was an almost arrogant air of +power about this man. She wondered what Sir Roland would say if he knew, +and comforted herself almost immediately with the reflection that he +never could know. He had gone to Scotland, and she did not expect him +back for several weeks. + +So she turned aside with this stranger, and passed out upon his arm into +the dusk of the soft spring night. + +"You know these gardens well?" he questioned. + +She came out of her meditations. + +"Not really well. Lady Blythebury and I are friends, but we do not visit +very often." + +"And that but secretly," he laughed, "when the lion is absent?" She did +not answer him, and he continued after a moment: "'Pon my life, the +very mention of him seems to cast a cloud. Let us draw a magic circle, +and exclude him!" He waved his wand. "You knew that I was a magician?" + +There was a hint of something more than banter in his voice. They had +reached the end of the terrace, and were slowly descending the steps. +But at his last words, Lady Brooke stood suddenly still. + +"I only believe in one sort of magic," she said, "and that is beyond the +reach of all but fools." + +Her voice quivered with an almost passionate disdain. She was suddenly +aware of an intense burning misery that seemed to gnaw into her very +soul. Why had she come out with this buffoon, she wondered? Why had she +come to the masquerade at all? She was utterly out of sympathy with its +festive gaiety. A great and overmastering desire for solitude descended +upon her. She turned almost angrily to go. + +But in the same instant the jester's hand caught her own. + +"Even so, lady," he said. "But the magic of fools has led to paradise +before now." + +She laughed out bitterly: + +"A fool's paradise!" + +"Is ever green," he said whimsically. "Faith, it's no place at all for +cynics. Shall we go hand in hand to find it then--in case you miss the +way?" + +She laughed again at the quaint adroitness of his speech. But her lips +were curiously unsteady, and she found the darkness very comforting. +There was no moon, and the sky was veiled. She suffered the strong clasp +of his fingers about her own without protest. What did it matter--for +just one night? + +"Where are we going?" she asked. + +"Wait till we get there!" murmured her companion. "We are just within +the magic circle. Una has escaped from the lion." + +She felt turf beneath her feet, and once or twice the brushing of twigs +against her hand. She began to have a faint suspicion as to whither he +was leading her. But she would not ask a second time. She had yielded to +his guidance, and though her heart fluttered strangely she would not +seem to doubt. The dread of Sir Roland's displeasure had receded to the +back of her mind. Surely there was indeed magic abroad that night! It +seemed diffused in the very air she breathed. In silence they moved +along the dim grass path. From far away there came to them fitfully the +sound of music, remote and wonderful, like straying echoes of paradise. +A soft wind stirred above them, lingering secretly among opening leaves. +There was a scent of violets almost intoxicatingly sweet. + +The silence seemed magnetic. It held them like a spell. Through it, +vague and intangible as the night at first, but gradually taking +definite shape, strange thoughts began to rise in the girl's heart. + +She had consented to this adventure from sheer lack of purpose. But +whither was it leading her? She was a married woman, with her shackles +heavy upon her. Yet she walked that night with a stranger, as one who +owned her freedom. The silence between them was intimate and wonderful, +the silence which only kindred spirits can ever know. It possessed her +magically, making her past life seem dim and shadowy, and the present +only real. + +And yet she knew that she was not free. She trespassed on forbidden +ground. She tasted the forbidden fruit, and found it tragically sweet. + +Suddenly and softly he spoke: + +"Does the magic begin to work?" + +She started and tried to stop. Surely it were wiser to go back while she +had the will! But he drew her forward still. The mist overhead was +faintly silver. The moon was rising. + +"We will go to the heart of the tangle," he said. "There is nothing to +fear. The lion himself could not frighten you here." + +Again she yielded to him. There was a suspicion of raillery in his voice +that strangely reassured her. The grasp of his hand was very close. + +"We are in the maze," she said at last, breaking her silence. "Are you +sure of the way?" + +He answered her instantly with complete self-assurance. + +"Like the heart of a woman, it's hard, that it is, to find. But I think +I have the key. And if not, by the saints, I'm near enough now to break +through." + +The words thrilled her inexplicably. Truly the magic was swift and +potent. A few more steps, and she was aware of a widening of the hedge. +They were emerging into the centre of the maze. + +"Ah," said the jester, "I thought I should win through!" + +He led her forward into the shadow of a great tree. The mist was passing +very slowly from the sky. By the silvery light that filtered down from +the hidden moon Naomi made out the strong outline of his shoulders as he +stood before her, and the vague darkness of his mask. + +She put up her free hand and removed her own. The breeze had died down. +The atmosphere was hushed and airless. + +"Do you know the way back?" she asked him, in a voice that sounded +unnatural even to herself. + +"Do you want to go back, then?" he queried keenly. + +There was something in his tone--a subtle something that she had not +detected before. She began to tremble. For the first time, actual fear +took hold of her. + +"You must know the way back!" she exclaimed. "This is folly! They will +be wondering where we are." + +"Faith, Lady Una! It is the fool's paradise," he told her coolly. "They +will not wonder. They know too well that there is no way back." + +His manner terrified her. Its very quietness seemed a menace. +Desperately she tore herself from his hold, and turned to escape. But it +was as though she fled in a nightmare. Whichever way she turned she met +only the impenetrable ramparts of the hedge that surrounded her. She +could find neither entrance nor exit. It was as though the way by which +she had come had been closed behind her. + +But the brightness above was growing. She whispered to herself that she +would soon be able to see, that she could not be a prisoner for long. + +Suddenly she heard her captor close to her, and, turning in terror, she +found him erect and dominating against the hedge. With a tremendous +effort she controlled her rising panic to plead with him. + +"Indeed, I must go back!" she said, her voice unsteady, but very urgent. +"I have already stayed too long. You cannot wish to keep me here against +my will?" + +She saw him shrug his shoulders slightly. + +"There is no way back," he said, "or, if there is, I do not know it." + +There was no dismay in his voice, but neither was there exultation. He +simply stated the fact with absolute composure. Her heart gave a wild +throb of misgiving. Was the man wholly sane? + +Again she caught wildly at her failing courage, and drew herself up to +her full height. Perhaps she might awe him, even yet. + +"Sir," she said, "I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. And I--" + +"Egad!" he broke in banteringly, "that was yesterday. You are free +to-day. I have brought you out of bondage. We have found paradise +together, and, my pretty Lady Una, there is no way back." + +"But there is, there is!" she cried desperately. "And I must find it! I +tell you I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. I belong to him. No one can keep +me from him!" + +It was as though she beat upon an iron door. + +"There is no way out of the magic circle," said the jester inexorably. + +A white shaft of light illumined the mist above them, revealing the +girl's pale face, making sinister the man's masked one. He seemed to be +smiling. He bent towards her. + +"You seem amazingly fond of your chains," he said softly. "And yet, from +what I have heard, Sir Roland is no gentle tyrant. How is it, pretty +one? What makes you cling to your bondage so?" + +"He is my husband!" she said, through white lips. + +"Faith, that is no answer," he declared. "Own, now, that you hate him, +that you loathe his presence and shudder at his touch! I told you I was +a magician, Lady Una; but you wouldn't believe me at all." + +She confronted him with a sudden fury that marvellously reinforced her +failing courage. + +"You lie, sir!" she cried, stamping passionately upon the soft earth. "I +do none of these things. I have never hated him. I have never shrunk +from his touch. We have not understood each other, perhaps, but that is +a different matter, and no concern of yours." + +"He has not made you happy," said the jester persistently. "You will +never go back to him now that you are free!" + +"I will go back to him!" she cried stormily. "How dare you say such a +thing to me? How dare you?" + +He came nearer to her. + +"Listen!" he said. "It is deliverance that I am offering you. I ask +nothing at all in return, simply to make you happy, and to teach you the +blessed magic which now you scorn. Faith! It's the greatest game in the +world, Lady Una; and it only takes two players, dear, only two players!" + +There was a subtle, caressing quality in his voice. His masked face was +bending close to hers. She felt trapped and helpless, but she forced +herself to stand her ground. + +"You insult me!" she said, her voice quivering, but striving to be calm. + +"Never a bit!" he declared. "Since I am the truest friend you have!" + +She drew away from him with a gesture of repulsion. + +"You insult me!" she said again. "I have my husband, and I need no +other." + +He laughed sneeringly, the insinuating banter all gone from his manner. + +"You know he is nothing to you," he said. "He neglects you. He bullies +you. You married him because you wanted to be a married woman. Be +honest, now! You never loved him. You do not know what love is!" + +"It is false!" she cried. "I will not listen to you. Let me go!" + +He took a sudden step forward. + +"You refuse deliverance?" he questioned harshly. + +She did not retreat this time, but faced him proudly. + +"I do!" + +"Listen!" he said again, and his voice was stern. "Sir Roland Brooke has +returned home. He knows that you have disobeyed him. He knows that you +are here with me. You will not dare to face him. You have gone too far +to return." + +She gasped hysterically, and tottered for an instant, but recovered +herself. + +"I will--I will go back!" she said. + +"He will beat you like a labourer's wife," warned the jester. "He may do +worse." + +She was swaying as she stood. + +"He will do--as he sees fit," she said. + +He stooped a little lower. + +"I would make you happy, Lady Una," he whispered. "I would protect +you--shelter you--love you!" + +She flung out her hands with a wild and desperate gesture. The +magnetism of his presence had become horrible to her. + +"I am going to him--now," she said. + +Behind him she saw, in the brightening moonlight, the opening which she +had vainly sought a few minutes before. She sprang for it, darting past +him like a frightened bird seeking refuge, and in another moment she was +lost in the green labyrinths. + + * * * + +The moonlight had become clear and strong, casting black shadows all +about her. Twice, in her frantic efforts to escape, she ran back into +the centre of the maze. The jester had gone, but she imagined him +lurking behind every corner, and she impotently recalled his words: +"There is no way out of the magic circle." + +At last, panting and exhausted, she knew that she was unwinding the +puzzle. Often as its intricacies baffled her, she kept her head, +rectifying each mistake and pressing on, till the wider curve told her +that she was very near the entrance. She came upon it finally quite +suddenly, and found herself, to her astonishment, close to the terrace +steps. + +She mounted them with trembling limbs, and paused a moment to summon her +composure. Then, outwardly calm, she traversed the terrace and entered +the house. + +Lady Blythebury was dancing, and she felt she could not wait. She +scribbled a few hasty words of farewell, and gave them to a servant as +she entered her carriage. Hers was the first departure, and no one +noted it. + +She sank back at length, thankfully, in the darkness, and closed her +eyes. Whatever lay before her, she had escaped from the nightmare horror +of the shadowy garden. + +But as the brief drive neared its end, her anxiety revived. Had Sir +Roland indeed returned and discovered her absence? Was it possible? + +Her face was white and haggard as she entered the hall at last. Her eyes +were hunted. + +The servant who opened to her looked at her oddly for a moment. + +"What is it?" she said nervously. + +"Sir Roland has returned, my lady," he said. "He arrived two hours ago, +and went straight to his room, saying he would not disturb your +ladyship." + +She turned away in silence, and mounted the stairs. Did he know? Had he +guessed? Was it that that had brought him back? + +She entered her room, and dismissed the maid she found awaiting her. + +Swiftly she threw off the pink domino, and began to loosen her hair with +stiff, fumbling fingers, then shook it about her shoulders, and sank +quivering upon a couch. She could not go to bed. The terror that +possessed her was too intense, too overmastering. + +Ah! What was that? Every pulse in her body leaped and stood still at +sound of a low knock at the door. Who could it be? gasped her fainting +heart. Not Sir Roland, surely! He never came to her room now. + +Softly the door opened. It was Sir Roland and none other--Sir Roland +wearing an old velvet smoking--jacket, composed as ever, his grey eyes +very level and inscrutable. + +He paused for a single instant upon the threshold, then came noiselessly +in and closed the door. + +Naomi sat motionless and speechless. She lacked the strength to rise. +Her hands were pressed upon her heart. She thought its beating would +suffocate her. + +He came quietly across the room to her, not seeming to notice her +agitation. + +"I should not have disturbed you at this hour if I had not been sure +that you were awake," he said. + +Reaching her, he bent and touched her white cheek. + +"Why, child, how cold you are!" he said. + +She started violently back, and then, as a sudden memory assailed her, +she caught his hand and held it for an instant. + +"It is nothing," she said with an effort. "You--you startled me." + +"You are nervous tonight," said Sir Roland. + +She shrank under his look. + +"You see, I did not expect you," she murmured. + +"Evidently not." Sir Roland stood gravely considering her. "I came +back," he said, after a moment, "because it occurred to me that you +might be lonely after all, in spite of your assurance to the contrary. +I did not ask you to accompany me, Naomi. I did not think you would care +to do so. But I regretted it later, and I have come back to remedy the +omission. Will you come with me to Scotland?" + +His tone was quiet and somewhat formal, but there was in it a kindliness +that sent the blood pulsing through her veins in a wave of relief even +greater than her astonishment at his words. He did not know, then. That +was her one all-possessing thought. He could not know, or he had not +spoken to her thus. + +She sat slowly forward, drawing her hair about her shoulders like a +cloak. She felt for the moment an overpowering weakness, and she could +not look up. + +"I will come, of course," she said at last, her voice very low, "if you +wish it." + +Sir Roland did not respond at once. Then, as his silence was beginning +to disquiet her again, he laid a steady hand upon the shadowing hair. + +"My dear," he said gently, "have you no wishes upon the subject?" + +Again she started at his touch, and again, as if to rectify the start, +drew ever so slightly nearer to him. It was many, many days since she +had heard that tone from him. + +"My wishes are yours," she told him faintly. + +His hand was caressing her softly, very softly. Again he was silent for +a while, and into her heart there began to creep a new feeling that +made her gradually forget the immensity of her relief. She sat +motionless, save that her head drooped a little lower, ever a little +lower. + +"Naomi," he said, at last, "I have been thinking a good deal lately. We +seem to have been wandering round and round in a circle. I have been +wondering if we could not by any means find a way out?" + +She made a sharp, involuntary movement. What was this that he was saying +to her? + +"I don't quite understand," she murmured. + +His hand pressed a little upon her, and she knew that he was bending +down. + +"You are not happy," he said, with grave conviction. + +She could not contradict him. + +"It is my own fault," she managed to say, without lifting her head. + +"I do not think so," he returned, "at least, not entirely. I know that +there have frequently been times when you have regretted your marriage. +For that you were not to blame." He paused an instant. "Naomi," he said, +a new note in his voice, "I think I am right in believing that, +notwithstanding this regret, you do not in your heart wish to leave me?" + +She quivered, and hid her face in silence. + +He waited a few seconds, and finally went on as if she had answered in +the affirmative. + +"That being so, I have a foundation on which to build. I would not ask +of you anything which you feel unable to grant. But there is only one +way for us to get out of the circle that I can see. Will you take it +with me, Naomi? Shall we go away together, and leave this miserable +estrangement behind us?" + +His voice was low and tender. Yet she felt instinctively that he had not +found it easy to expose his most sacred reserve thus. She moved +convulsively, trying to answer him, trying for several unworthy moments +to accept in silence the shelter his generosity had offered her. But her +efforts failed, for she had not been moulded for deception; and this new +weapon of his had cut her to the heart. Heavy, shaking sobs overcame +her. + +"Hush!" he said. "Hush! I never dreamed you felt it so." + +"Ah, you don't know me!" she whispered. "I--I am not what you think me. +I have disobeyed you, deceived you, cheated you!" Humbled to the earth, +she made piteous, halting confession before her tyrant. "I was at the +masquerade tonight. I waltzed--and afterwards went into the maze--in the +dark--with a stranger--who made love to me. I never--meant you--to +know." + +Silence succeeded her words, and, as she waited for him to rise and +spurn her, she wondered how she had ever brought herself to utter them. +But she would not have recalled them even then. He moved at last, but +not as she had anticipated. He gathered the tumbled hair back from her +face, and, bending over her, he spoke. Even in her agony of +apprehension she noted the curious huskiness of his voice. + +"And yet you told me," he said. "Why?" + +She could not answer him, nor could she raise her face. He was not +angry, she knew now; but yet she felt that she could not meet his eyes. + +There was a short silence, then he spoke again, close to her ear: + +"You need not have told me, Naomi." + +The words amazed her. With a great start of bewilderment she lifted her +head and looked at him. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She thought +she saw a smile hovering about his lips, but it was of a species she had +never seen there before. + +"Because," he explained gently, "I knew." + +She stared at him in wonder, scarcely breathing, the tears all gone from +her eyes. + +"You--knew!" she said slowly, at last. + +"Yes, I knew," he said. He looked deep into her eyes for seconds, and +then she felt him drawing her irresistibly to him. She yielded herself +as driftwood yields to a racing flood, no longer caring for the +interpretation of the riddle, scarcely remembering its existence; heard +him laugh above her head--a brief, exultant laugh--as he clasped her. +And then came his lips upon her own.... + +"You see, dear," he said later, a quiver that was not all laughter in +his voice, "it is not so remarkably wonderful, after all, that I should +know all about it, when you come to consider that I was there--there +with you in the magic circle all the time." + +"You were there!" she echoed, turning in his arms. "But how was it I +never knew? Why did I not see you?" + +"Faith, sweetheart, I think you did!" said Sir Roland. Then, at her +quick cry of amazed understanding: "I wanted to teach you a lesson, but, +sure, I'm thinking it's myself that learned one, after all." And, as she +clung to him, still hardly believing: "We have found our paradise +together, my Lady Una," he whispered softly. "And, love, there is no way +back." + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE LOOKER-ON + + +I + +"Oh, I'm going to be Lady Jane Grey," said Charlie Cleveland, balancing +himself on the deck-rail in front of his friends, Mrs. Langdale and +Mollie Erle, with considerable agility. "And, Mollie, I say, will you +lend me a black silk skirt? I saw you were wearing one last night." + +He spoke with complete seriousness. It was this boy's way to infuse into +all his actions an enthusiasm that deprived the most trifling of the +commonplace element. He was the gayest passenger on board--the very life +of the boat. Yet he had few accomplishments to recommend him, his +abundant spirits alone attaining for him the popularity he everywhere +enjoyed. + +Molly Erle, who with Mrs. Langdale was returning home after spending the +winter with some friends at Calcutta, regarded him with a toleration not +wholly devoid of contempt. He apparently deemed it necessary to pay her +a good deal of attention, and Molly was strongly determined to keep him +at a distance--a matter, by the way, that had its difficulties in face +of young Cleveland's romping lack of ceremony. + +"Yes, you may have the skirt," she said with a generosity not wholly +spontaneous, as he waited expectantly for a reply to his request. + +"Ah, good!" he said effusively. "That is a great weight off my mind. And +may I have Number Ten on your programme?" + +"Are you going to dance?" asked Mrs. Langdale, with a half-suppressed +laugh. + +He turned upon her, grinning openly. + +"No. Fisher says I mustn't. I'm going to sit out, dear Mrs. Langdale--a +modest wall-flower for once. I hope you will all be very kind to me. +Have you made a note of Number Ten, Molly--I mean, Miss Erle? No? But +you will, though. Ah! Thanks, awfully! Here comes Fisher! I wish you +would persuade him to do Guildford Dudley. I can't." + +He bounced off the rail and departed, laughing. + +Molly looked after him with slight disapprobation on her pretty face. He +was such a thoroughly nice boy. She wished with almost unreasonable +intensity that he possessed more of that sterling quality, solidity, for +which his travelling companion, Fisher, was chiefly noteworthy. + +Captain Fisher approached them with a casual air as if he had drifted +their way by accident. He was one of those oppressively quiet men who +possess the unhappy knack of appearing wholly out of touch with all +social surroundings. There was a reticence about him which almost all +took for surliness, but which was in reality merely a somewhat +unattractive mixture of awkwardness and laziness. + +He was in the Royal Engineers, and believed to be a very clever man in +his profession. But there was never anything in the least bright or +original in his conversation. Yet, for some vague reason, Molly credited +him with the ability to do great deeds, and was particularly gracious to +him. + +Mrs. Langdale, who was lively herself, infinitely preferred Charlie +Cleveland's boisterous company, and on the present occasion she rose to +follow him with great promptitude. + +"I must find out how he has managed the rest of his costume," she said +to Molly. "It is sure to be strikingly original--like himself." + +The contempt deepened a little on Molly's face, contempt and regret--an +odd mixture. + +"He is very funny, no doubt," she said; "but I think one gets a little +tired of his perpetual gaiety. I don't think we should find him so +delightful if a storm came on. I haven't much faith in those people who +can never take anything really seriously. I believe he would die +laughing." + +"All the better," declared Mrs. Langdale, who loved Charlie's impetuous +ways with maternal tolerance. "It is always better to laugh than cry, my +dear; though it isn't always easier by any means." + +She departed with the words, laughing a little to herself at Molly's +critical mood; and Captain Fisher went and sat stolidly down beside +Molly, who turned to him with an instant smile of welcome. She was the +only lady on board who was never bored by this man's quiet society. She +liked him thoroughly, finding the contrast between him and his volatile +friend a great relief. + +Fisher never talked frivolities; indeed, he seldom talked at all. Yet to +Molly the hour he spent beside her on that sunny day in the +Mediterranean passed as pleasantly and easily as she could have desired. + +Captain Fisher might seem heavy to others, but never to her--a fact of +which secretly she was rather proud. + + +II + +"Come up on deck!" whispered Charlie in an eager undertone. "There's no +one there, and the night is divine." + +Molly Erie looked at the strange figure in fancy-dress beside her and +laughed aloud. She had not allowed Charlie a _tête-à-tête_ for many +days, but she felt that he could scarcely attempt to be sentimental in +that costume. + +She went with him, therefore, thinking what a pretty girl he would have +made. + +Charlie led her to the deck-rail. His ridiculous figure was less +obtrusively absurd in the dim light. His laughing voice, lowered +half-confidently, half-reverently, sounded less inconsequent than was +its wont. + +Suddenly he turned to her and spoke with wholly unexpected vehemence. + +"I can't keep it in," he said. "You've got to know it. Molly, I love you +most awfully. You do know it, I believe, without being told. Why do you +always run away and hide when I try to speak?" + +He spoke quickly, jerkily. She glanced at him with a nervous movement as +she drew back. He was not laughing for once, yet she fancied there was +the shadow of a smile quivering about his face. Possibly it was an +illusion. The dim light made everything indefinite. But the suspicion +roused in her in full strength her prejudice against him. She drew back +deliberately, and her anger grew from scorn to cruelty during the +moments that intervened between his question and her answer. + +"You have chosen a very appropriate occasion," she remarked icily at +length. "Do you imagine yourself irresistible when playing the fool, I +wonder?" + +He faced round on her. + +"I have taken the only opportunity I could get," he said. "I am a slave +of circumstance. If I had come to you in rational costume you would not +have consented to sit out with me." + +There was a ring of laughter in his explanation. He did not take her +anger seriously, then. Molly quivered with indignation. She would +speedily show him his mistake. + +"You think, then," she said, "that this buffoonery is too amusing to be +foregone? I am afraid I do not agree with you." + +She paused. Charlie had given a great start of surprise. She could see +the astonishment on his boyish face under the white mantilla he wore. + +"Oh, look here!" he exclaimed impetuously. "You have got the wrong side +of everything. It isn't buffoonery. I don't play with sacred things. +I'm in earnest, Molly. Can't you see it? What do you take me for?" + +She heard the note of honesty in his voice and shifted her batteries. + +"You may be--for a moment," she said, scorn vibrating in every word she +uttered. "But you will soon get over it, you know. By to-morrow, or even +sooner, all danger will be over." + +"Stop!" exclaimed Charlie. For the first time in all her dealings with +him he spoke sternly, as a man might speak, and Molly started at his +tone. "You are making a mistake," he said more quietly. "I am not the +superficial ass you take me for." + +"I have only your word for that," she returned, striking without pity +because for a second he had startled her out of her contemptuous +attitude. + +He looked at her in silence, and again her indignation arose full-armed +against him. How dared he--this clown in woman's clothes--speak to her +at such a moment of that which she rightly held to be the holiest thing +on earth? + +"How can you expect me to believe you?" she demanded. "You tell me you +are in earnest. But you know as well as I do that that is a mere figure +of speech. You are never in earnest. You play all day long. You will do +it all your life. You never do anything worth mentioning. Other people +do the work. You simply skim the surface of things. You are merely a +looker-on." + +"A very intelligent looker-on, though," said Charlie, in a tone she did +not wholly understand. + +"And if I don't do anything worth doing, it is possibly lack of +opportunity, isn't it? I can do many things, from driving engines to +playing skittles. Take a man for what he is, not for what he does! It is +the only fair estimate. Otherwise the blatant fools get all the honey." + +Molly uttered a scornful little laugh. + +"This is paltry," she exclaimed. "A man's actions are the actual man. He +can make his own opportunities. No, Mr. Cleveland. You will never +convince me of your intrinsic worth by talking." + +She paused, as it were, involuntarily. Again that startled feeling of +uncertainty was at her heart. There was a momentary silence. Then +Charlie made her an odd, jerky bow, and without a single word further +turned and left her. + +Quaint as was his attire, ungainly as were his movements, there was in +his withdrawal a touch of dignity, even a hint of the sublime; and Molly +could not understand it. + +She paced the length of the deck and sat down to regain her composure. +The interview had left her considerably ruffled, even ill at ease. + + +III + +She had been sitting there for some moments when suddenly, with a great +throb that seemed to vibrate through the whole length of the great +vessel from end to end, the engines ceased. The music in the large +saloon, where the first-class passengers were dancing, came to an abrupt +stop. There was a pause, a thrilling, intense pause; and then the +confusion of voices. + +A man ran quickly by her to the bridge, where she could dimly discern +the first-officer on watch. She sprang up, dreading she knew not what, +and at the same instant Charlie--she knew it was he by the flutter of +the ridiculous garb he wore--leapt off the bridge like a hurricane, and +tore past her. + +He was gone in a second, almost before she had had time to realise his +flying presence; and the next moment passengers were streaming up on +deck, asking questions, uttering surmises, on the verge of panic, yet +trying to ignore the anxiety that tugged at their resolution. + +Molly joined the crowd. She was frightened too, badly frightened; but it +is always better to face fear in company. So at least says human +instinct. + +The passengers collected in a restless mass on the upper deck. The +captain was seen going swiftly to the bridge. After a brief word with +him the first-officer came down to them. He was a pleasant, +easy-tempered man, and did not appear in the least dismayed. + +"It's all right," he said, raising his voice. "Please don't be alarmed! +There has been a little accident in the engine-room. The captain hopes +you won't let it interfere with your dancing." + +He placed himself in the thick of the strangely dressed crowd. His +clean-shaven face was perfectly unconcerned. + +"I'll come and join you, if I may," he said. "The captain allows me to +knock off. Will you admit a non-fancy-dresser?" + +He led the way below, calling for the orchestra as he went. The +frightened crowd turned and followed as if in this one man who spoke +with the voice of authority protection could be found. But they hung +back from dancing, and after a pause the first-officer seized a banjo +and proceeded to entertain them with comic songs. He kept it up for a +while, and then Mrs. Langdale went nobly to his assistance and sang some +Irish songs. One or two other volunteers presented themselves, and the +evening's entertainment developed into a concert. + +The tension relaxed considerably as the time slipped by, but it did not +wholly pass. It was noticed that the doctor was absent. + +A reluctance to disperse for the night was very manifestly obvious. + +About two hours after the first alarm the great ship thrilled as if in +answer to some monster touch. The languid roll ceased. The engines +started again firmly, regularly, with gradually rising speed. In less +than a minute all was as it had been. + +A look of intense relief shot across the first-officer's quiet face. + +"That means 'All's well,'" he said, raising his voice a little. "Let us +congratulate ourselves and turn in!" + +"There has been danger, then, Mr. Gresley?" queried Mrs. Granville, a +lady who liked to know everything in detail. + +Mr. Gresley laughed with an indifference perfectly unaffected. "I +believe the engineers thought so," he said. "I must refer you to them +for particulars. Anyhow, it's all right now. I am going to tell the +steward to bring coffee." + +He got up leisurely and strolled away. + +There was a slight commotion on the other side of the door as he opened +it, a giggle that sounded rather hysterical. A moment later Lady Jane +Grey; her head-gear gone, her shorn curls looking absurdly frivolous, +walked mincingly into the saloon and subsided upon the nearest seat. She +was attended by Captain Fisher, who looked anxious. + +"Such a misfortune!" she remarked, in a squeaky voice that sounded, +somehow, a horrible strain. "I have been shut up in the Tower and have +only just escaped. I trust I am not too late for my execution. I'm +afraid I have kept you all waiting." + +All the heaviness of misgiving passed out of the atmosphere in a burst +of merriment. + +"Where on earth have you been hiding?" shouted Major Granville. "I +believe you have been playing the fool with us, you rascal." + +"I!" cried Charlie. "My dear sir, what are you thinking of? If you were +to breathe such a suspicion as that to the captain he would clap me in +irons for the rest of the voyage." + +"You have been in the engine-room for all that," said Mrs. Langdale, +whose powers of observation were very keen. "Look at your skirt!" + +Charlie glanced at the garment in question. It was certainly the worse +for wear. There were some curious patches in the front that had the +appearance of oil stains. + +"That'll be all right!" he said cheerfully. "I had a fright and tumbled +upstairs. Skirts are beastly awkward things to run away in, aren't they, +Mrs. Langdale? Well, good-night all! I'm going to bed." + +He got up with the words, grinned at everyone collectively, picked up +the injured skirt with exaggerated care, and stepped out of the saloon. + +Mrs. Langdale looked after him, half-laughing, yet with a touch of +concern. + +"He looks queer," she remarked to Molly, who was standing by her. "Quite +white and shaky. I believe something has happened to him. He has hurt +himself in some way." + +But Molly was feeling peculiarly indignant at that moment, though not +on account of her ruined skirt. + +"He's a silly poltroon!" she said with emphasis, and walked stiffly +away. + +Charlie Cleveland had recovered from his serious fit even sooner than +she had thought possible; and, though she had made it sufficiently clear +to him that as a serious suitor he was utterly unwelcome, she was +intensely angry with him for having so swiftly resumed his customary gay +spirits. + + +IV + +"Come! What happened last evening? We want to know," said Major +Granville, in his slightly overbearing manner. "I saw you with the +second engineer this morning, Fisher. I'm sure you have ferreted it +out." + +"I am not at liberty to pass on my information," responded Fisher +stolidly. "You wouldn't understand it if I did, Major. There was danger +and there was steam. Two of the engineers had their arms scalded, and +one of the stokers was badly hurt. I can't tell you any more than that." + +"Do you go so far as to say that the ship herself was in danger?" asked +Major Granville. He was talking loudly, as was his wont, across the +smoking saloon. + +"I should say so," said Fisher, without lifting his eyes from the +magazine he was deliberately studying. + +"Where is young Cleveland this morning?" asked the Major abruptly. + +Fisher shrugged his shoulders. + +"He was in his bunk when I saw him last. Heaven knows what he may be up +to by now." + +Charlie Cleveland strolled in at this juncture. He had his right arm in +a sling. + +"Hullo!" he said. "How are you all? I'm on the sick-list to-day. I +sprained my wrist when I fell up the steps yesterday." + +Fisher glanced at him for a moment over the top of his magazine and +resumed his reading in silence. + +"Look here, my friend!" he said. "You were in the thick of this engine +business. I am sure of it." + +"I was," said Charlie readily. "But for me you would all be at the +bottom of the sea by this time." + +He threw himself into a chair with a broad grin at Major Granville's +contemptuous countenance and took up a book. + +Major Granville looked intensely disgusted. It was scarcely credible +that a passenger could have penetrated to the engine-room and interfered +with the machinery there, yet he more than half believed that this +outrageous thing had actually occurred. He got up after a brief silence +and stalked stiffly from the saloon. + +Charlie banged down his book with a yell of laughter. + +"Didn't I tell you, Fisher?" he cried. "He's gone to have a good, +square, face-to-face talk with the captain. But he won't get anything +out of him. I've been there first." + +He went up on deck and found a party of quoit-players. Molly Erle was +among them. Charlie stood and watched, yelling advice and +encouragement. + +"Looking on as usual?" the girl said to him presently, with a bitter +little smile, as she found herself near him. + +He nodded. + +"I'm really afraid to speak to you to-day," he said. "Your skirt will +never again bear the light of day." + +"What happened?" she said briefly. + +The game was over, and they strolled away together across the deck. + +"I'll tell you," he said, with ill-suppressed gaiety in his voice. "We +should all have been blown out of the water last night if it hadn't been +for me. Forgetful of my finery, I went and--looked on. The magic result +was that I saved the situation, and--incidentally, of course--the ship." + +He stopped. + +"You don't believe me?" he said abruptly. + +Her lip curled a little. + +"Do you really expect to be believed?" she said. + +"I don't know," he said; "I thought it was the usual thing to do between +friends." + +"I was not aware--" began Molly. + +He broke in with a most disarming smile. + +"Oh, please," he said. "I don't deserve that--anyhow. I'm awfully sorry +about the skirt. I hope you'll let me bear the cost of the damage. I've +got into hot water all round. Nobody will believe I'm seriously sorry, +though it's a fact for all that. Don't be hard on me, Molly, I say!" + +There was a note of genuine pleading in the last words that induced her +to relent a little. + +"Oh, well, I'll forgive you for the skirt," she said. "I suppose boys +can't help being mischievous, though you are nearly old enough to know +better." + +She looked at him as she said it. His face was comically penitent. +Somehow she could not quarrel with the lurking smile in his merry eyes. +He was certainly a boy. He would never be anything else. But Molly did +not realise this, and she was still too young herself to have +appreciated the gift of perpetual youth had she been aware of its +existence. + +"That's right!" said Charlie cheerily. "And perhaps"--he spoke +cautiously, with a half-deprecatory glance at her bright +face--"perhaps--in time, you know--you will be able to forgive me for +something else as well." + +"I think the less we say about that the better," remarked Molly, tilting +her chin a little. + +"All right!" said Charlie equably. "Only, you know"--his voice was +suddenly grave--"I was--and am--in earnest." + +Molly laughed. + +"So far as in you lies, I suppose?" she said indifferently. "I wonder if +you ever really did anything worth doing in your life, Mr. Cleveland." + +"I wish you would call me Charlie!" he said impulsively. "Yes. I +proposed to you last night. Wasn't that worth doing?" + +She drew her brows together in a quick frown, but she made no reply. +Fisher was drifting towards them. She turned deliberately, her head very +high, and strolled to meet him. + +Charlie glanced over his shoulder, stood a moment irresolute, then +walked away more soberly than usual towards the bridge, where he was a +constant and welcome visitor. + + +V + +"There are plenty of fine chaps in the world who aren't to be recognised +as such at first sight," drawled Bertie Richmond to his young cousin, +Molly Erle, who was sitting with her feet on the fender on a very cold +winter evening. + +"I'm sure of that," said Mrs. Richmond from the other side of the fire, +with a tender glance at her husband's loosely knit figure. "I never +thought there was an inch of heroism in you, Bertie darling, till that +day when we went punting and we got upset. How brave you were! I've +never forgotten it. It was the beginning of everything." + +"It sounds as if it were nearer being the end," remarked Molly, who +systematically avoided all sentiment. "I don't believe myself that any +man can be actually heroic and yet not betray it somehow." + +"You're wrong," said Bertie. + +"I don't think so," said Molly. She could be quite as obstinate as most +women, and this was a point upon which she was very decided. + +"I'll prove it," said Bertie, with quiet determination. "There's a chap +coming with the crowd of sportsmen to-morrow who is the bravest and, I +think, the best fellow I ever met. I shan't tell you who he is. I'll +leave you to find out--if you can. But I don't believe you will." + +"I am quite sure I can tell the difference between a looker-on, a mere +loafer, and a man who does," said Molly, with absolute confidence. + +"Bet you you don't!" murmured Bertie Richmond, smiling at the ceiling. +"I know the woman's theory so jolly well." + +Molly smiled also. + +"I'll take your bet, whatever it is, Bertie," she said. + +Bertie shook his head. + +"No, I don't bet on a dead cert," he said comfortably. "I'll even tell +you the fellow's heroic deeds, and then you'll never spot him. I met him +first in South Africa. He saved my life twice. Once he carried me nearly +a mile under fire, and got wounded in the process. Another time he sat +all night under fire holding a fellow's artery. Since then he has been +knocking about in odd corners, doing splendid things in the dark, as it +were, for he is horribly modest. The last I heard of him was from my +friend Captain Raglan. He travelled on Raglan's ship from Calcutta, One +night in the Mediterranean something went wrong in the engine-room. Two +of the boat's engineers were badly scalded. They managed to get away, +but a wretched stoker was too hurt to escape, and this fellow--this hero +of mine--went down into a perfect inferno and got him out. Not only +that, he went back afterwards with one of the engineers to direct him, +and worked like a bull till the mischief was put right. There was danger +of an explosion every moment, but he never lost his nerve for an +instant. When it was over everyone concerned was sworn to secrecy, and +not a passenger on board that boat knew what had actually taken place. +As I said before, he is not the sort of chap anyone would credit with +that sort of heroism. I shan't tell you what he is like in other +respects." + +"I probably know," said Molly. "I came home on Captain Raglan's ship in +the autumn." + +"What! You were on board?" exclaimed Bertie. "What a rum go! You will +meet one or two old friends, then. And the hero is probably known to you +already, though I'm sure you have never taken him for such." + +"Oh, you're quite wrong!" laughed Molly. "I have known him and detected +his splendid qualities for quite a long while. He is nice, isn't he? I +am glad he is coming." + +She took up her book with slightly heightened colour, and began to turn +over its pages. + +Bertie Richmond stared at her in silence for some moments. + +"Well!" he said at last. "You have got sharper insight than any woman I +know." + +"Thanks!" said Molly, with an indifferent laugh. "But you are not so +awfully great on that point yourself, are you, Bertie? I should say you +are scarcely a competent judge." + +Mrs. Richmond protested on Bertie's behalf, but without effect. Molly +was slightly vexed with him for imagining that she could be so dull. + + +VI + +The great country house was invaded by a host of guests on the following +day. Portmanteaux and gun-cases were continually in evidence. The place +was filled to overflowing. + +Mrs. Langdale, who was Mrs. Richmond's greatest friend, arrived in +excellent spirits, and was delighted to find Molly Erle a fellow-guest. + +"And actually," she said, "Charlie Cleveland and Captain Fisher are +going to swell the throng of sportsmen. We shall imagine ourselves back +in our old board-ship days. Charlie was talking about them and of all +the fun we had only last Saturday. Yes, I have seen him several times +lately. He has been staying in town, waiting for something to turn up, +he says. Funny boy! He is just as gay as ever. And Captain Fisher, whom +he dragged to my flat to tea, is every bit as heavy and uninteresting, +poor dear!" + +"I don't call Captain Fisher uninteresting," remarked Molly. "At least, +I never found him so in the old days." + +"My dear, he is heavy as lead!" declared Mrs. Langdale. "I believe he +only opened his mouth once to speak, and then it was to ask for five +lumps of sugar instead of three. A most wearing person to entertain. I +will never have him at my table without Charlie to raise the gloom. He +and Charlie seemed to have decided to join forces for the present. They +spent Christmas together with Captain Fisher's people. I don't know if +they are as sober as he is. If so, poor dear Charlie must have felt +distinctly out of his element. But his spirits are wonderful. I believe +he would make a tombstone laugh." + +"It will be nice to see him again," said Molly tolerantly. "It is three +months now since we dispersed." + +She made the remark with another thought in her mind. Surely by this +Charlie would have forgotten the folly that had caused her annoyance in +the old days! Constancy was the very last quality with which she +credited him. Or so at least she thought. + +She went for a walk on the rocky shore that afternoon, meeting the +steely north-east blast with a good deal of resolution, if scant +enjoyment. Something in the immediate future she found vaguely +disquieting, something connected with Charlie Cleveland. + +She did not believe that her estimate of this young man was in any way +wide of the mark. And yet the thought of meeting him again had in it a +disturbing element for which she could not account. It worried her a +good deal that wild afternoon in January. Perhaps a suspicion that she +had once done young Cleveland an injustice strengthened the unwelcome +sense of regret, for it felt like regret in her mind. + +Yet as she turned homeward along the windy shore one comforting +reflection came to her and remained with her. She was at least +unfeignedly glad that Captain Fisher was going to be there. She liked +those silent, strong men who did all the hard work and then stood aside +to let the tide of praise and admiration flood past. + +Right well did her cousin's description fit this quiet hero, she told +herself with flushed cheeks. + +She remembered how he had spoken of him as "doing splendid things in the +dark, as it were," as being "horribly modest." Fisher's heavy +personality came before her with the memory. She could detect the +heroism behind the grave exterior with which this man baffled all +others. + +If Charlie had been a hero, too, instead of a frivolous imp of mischief! + +A sigh rose in her heart. Somehow, even though she told herself she had +no interest in the matter, Molly wished that he were something more +valuable than the flippant looker-on she took him to be. How could any +man, who was worth anything, bear to be only that, she wondered? + +She found a large party gathered in the hall at tea on her return. A +laugh she knew fell on her ears as she entered, and an instant later she +was aware of Charlie springing to meet her, his brown face aglow with +the smile of welcome. + +"How awfully good to meet you here, Molly!" he said, with that audacious +use of her Christian name against which no protest of hers seemed to +take any effect. + +She shook hands with him and she tried to do it coldly, but his warm +grasp was close and lingering. She realised with something of a shock +that he really was as glad as he professed to be to see her again. + +She went forward to the group around the fire and shook hands with all +she knew. + +Captain Fisher was the last to receive this attention. He was standing +in the background. He moved forward half a pace to greet her. In his own +peculiar, dumb fashion he also seemed pleased to meet her there. + +He had an untasted cup of tea in his hand which he hastened to pass on +to her. + +"I shouldn't accept it if I were you," laughed Mrs. Langdale. "I saw ten +lumps of sugar go into it just now." + +Fisher raised his eyebrows, but made no verbal protest. He never spoke +if a gesture would do as well. + +Molly accepted the cup of tea with a gracious smile, and Fisher found +her a chair and sat silently down beside her. + +Molly had plenty to say at all times. Her companion did not embarrass +her by his lack of responsiveness as he embarrassed most people. She had +a feeling that his reticence did not spring from inattention. + +"I am going to let you have the Silent Fish, as Charlie calls him, for +partner at dinner," her hostess said to her later. "You are a positive +marvel, Molly. He becomes quite genial under your influence." + +Fisher brightened considerably when he found himself allotted to Molly. +He even conversed a little, and went so far as to seek her out in the +drawing-room later. + +Charlie, who was making tracks in the same direction, turned sharply +away when he saw it, and went off to the billiard-room where several of +the rest were collected playing pool. He was in uproarious spirits, and +the whole gathering was speedily infected thereby. + +The evening ended in a boisterous abandonment to childish games, and the +party broke up at midnight, exhausted but still merry. Charlie, after an +animated sponge-fight with half-a-dozen other sportsmen, finally effaced +himself by bolting into Fisher's bedroom and locking himself in. + +To Fisher, who was smoking peacefully by the fire, he made hurried +apology, to which Fisher gruffly responded by requesting him to get out. + +But Charlie, after listening to the babel dying away down the corridor, +turned round with a smile and established himself at comfortable length +on Fisher's bed. + +"I want to talk to you, dear old fellow," he tenderly remarked. "Can you +spare me a few moments of your valuable time?" + +"Two minutes," said Fisher with brevity. + +"By Jove! What generosity!" ejaculated Charlie, his hands clasped behind +his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "It's rather a delicate matter. +However, here goes! Do you seriously mean business, or don't you? Are +you in sober earnest, or aren't you? Are you badly smitten, or are you +only just beginning to hover round the candle? Pardon my mixture of +similes! The meaning remains intact." + +Silence followed his somewhat involved speech. After a pause Captain +Fisher got up slowly, and turned round to face the boy on his bed. + +"Whatever your meaning may be, I don't fathom it," he said curtly. + +Charlie rolled on to his side to look at him. + +"Dense as a London fog," he murmured. + +"You'd better go," said Fisher, dropping his cigarette into the fire and +beginning to undress. + +Charlie sat up and watched him with an air of interest. Fisher took no +more notice of him. There was no waste of ceremony between these two. + +Charlie got up at last and laid sudden hands on his friend's square +shoulders. + +"I think it wouldn't hurt you to give me a straight answer, old boy," he +said, a flicker of something that was not mischief in his eyes. + +Fisher faced him instantly. + +"What is it you want to know?" he inquired bluntly. + +"This only," Charlie said, with perfect steadiness. "Are you going in +for Miss Erle in solid earnest or are you not? I want to know your +intentions, that's all." + +"I can't enlighten you, then," returned Fisher. + +Charlie laughed without effort. + +"Cautious old duffer!" he said. "Well, tell me this! I've no right to +ask it. Only somehow I've got to know. You care for her, don't you?" + +Fisher looked at him keenly for a moment. "Why do you ask?" he said. + +"Oh, it's infernal impertinence, of course. I admit that," said Charlie, +his tanned face growing suddenly red. "I suspected it, you see, ages +ago--on board ship, in fact. Is it true, then?" + +Fisher turned abruptly from him, and began to wind his watch with +extreme care. He spoke at length with his back turned on Charlie, who +was waiting with extraordinary patience for his answer. + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "It is true." + +"Go on and prosper!" said Charlie with a gay laugh. "You have my +blessing, old chap. Thanks for telling me!" + +He moved up to Fisher and thrust out an immense brown paw. + +"Take a friend's advice, man!" he said. "Ask her soon!" + +Then he bounced out of the room with his usual brisk energy, and shut +the door noisily behind him. + + +VII + +Was it by happy accident or by some kind friend's deliberate provision +that Fisher found himself walking alone with Molly Erle to church on the +following Sunday? Across the frosty park the voices of the other +churchgoers sounded fitfully distinct. + +Charlie Cleveland and another boy called Archie Croft, as hare-brained +as himself, were making Mrs. Langdale slide along the slippery drive. +Mrs. Langdale's laughter could be plainly heard. Molly thought her, +privately, rather childish to suffer herself to be thus carried away. + +Her companion was sauntering very slowly at her side. + +"I think we are late," Molly presently remarked, in a suggestive tone. + +"Are we?" said Fisher. "Does it matter?" + +"Yes," said Molly with decision. "I don't like going in after the +service has begun." + +"We won't," said Fisher. + +She looked at him in some surprise and found him gravely watching her. + +"I don't think we ought to do that," she remarked, smiling a little. + +"I'll go with you to-night," said Fisher, "if you will come with me +now." + +They had come to a path that branched off towards the shore. He stopped +with an air of determination. + +Molly stopped too, looking irresolute. Her heart was beating very fast. +She wished he would turn his eyes away. + +Suddenly he took his hand from his pocket and held it out to her. + +"Come with me, Miss Erle!" he said, in a quiet tone. + +She hesitated momentarily, then as he waited she put her hand in his. + +She glanced up at him as she did so, her face a glow of colour. + +"How far, Captain Fisher?" she said faintly. + +"All the way," said Fisher, with a sudden smile that illuminated his +sombre countenance like a searchlight on a dark sea. + +Molly laughed softly. + +"How far is that?" she said. + +He drew the little hand to his breast and put his free arm round her. + +"Further than we can see, Molly," he said, and his quiet voice suddenly +thrilled. "Side by side through eternity." + +Thus, with no word of love, did Fisher the Silent take to himself the +priceless gift of love. And the girl he wooed loved him the better for +that which he left unuttered. + +They returned home late for lunch, entering sheepishly, and sitting down +as far apart as the length of the table would allow. + +Charlie fell upon Fisher with merciless promptitude. + +"You base defaulter!" he cried. "I'll see you march in front next time. +I was never more scandalised in my life than when I realised that you +and Molly had done a slope." + +Fisher shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and offered no explanation +of his and Molly's defection. + +Charlie kept up a running fire of chaff for some time, to which Fisher, +as was his wont, showed himself to be perfectly indifferent. Lunch over, +Molly disappeared. Charlie saw her go and turned instantly to Fisher. + +"Come and have a single on the asphalt court!" he said. "I haven't tried +it yet. I want to." + +Fisher was reluctant, but yielded to persuasion. + +They went off together, Charlie with an affectionate arm round his +friend's shoulders. + +"I am to congratulate, I suppose?" he asked, as they crossed the garden +to the tennis-court. + +Fisher looked at him gravely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. + +"You may, if it gives you any pleasure to do so, my boy," he said. + +"Ah, that's good!" said Charlie. "You're a jolly good fellow, old chap. +You'll make her awfully happy." + +"I shall do my best," Fisher said. + +Charlie passed instantly to less serious matters, but the critical look +did not pass entirely from Fisher's face. He seemed to be watching for +something, for some card that Charlie did not appear disposed to play. + +Throughout the hard set that followed, his vigilance did not relax; but +Charlie played with all his customary zest. Tennis was to him for the +time being the only thing worth doing on the face of the earth. In his +enthusiasm he speedily stripped off his coat and rolled his sleeves to +the shoulder as if it had been the hottest summer day. + +At the end of the set, which Charlie won, a couple of spectators who had +come up unseen applauded their energy, and Charlie, swinging round in +flushed triumph, raced up for a word with his host and Molly Erie. + +"I can't stuff over a fire all the afternoon," he said. "But the light +is getting bad, isn't it? Fisher and I will have to knock off. Are you +two going for a walk? We'll come, too, if you are, eh, Fisher?" + +He turned towards Fisher, who had come up, and held out his hand for the +other's racquet. + +Molly uttered a sudden startled exclamation. + +"Why, Charlie," she ejaculated, "what have you done to your arm? What is +the matter with it?" + +Charlie jumped at her startled tone and tore down his shirt-sleeve +hastily. + +"An old wound," he said, with a shame-faced laugh. + +She put her gloved hand swiftly on his to stay his operations. + +"No, tell me!" she said. "What is it--really? How was it done?" + +"You will never get him to tell you that," laughed Bertie Richmond. "You +had better ask Fisher." + +"Oh, rats!" cried Charlie vehemently. "Fisher, I'll break your head with +this racquet if you give my show away. Come along! I believe the moon +has contracted a romantic habit of rising over the sea when the sun +sets. Let's go and----" + +"I'll tell you, Molly," broke in Bertie, linking a firm arm in Charlie's +to keep him quiet. "He can't break his host's head, you know. It's a +scald, eh, Charlie? He got it in the engine-room of the _Andover_ one +night in the autumn. You were on board, you know. Help me to hold him, +Fisher! He's getting restive. But I thought you knew all about it, +Molly. You told me so." + +"Oh, I didn't know--this!" the girl said. "How could I? I never +guessed--this!" + +Her three listeners were all surprised by the tragic note in her voice. +There was a momentary silence. Then Charlie made a fierce attempt to +wrest himself free. + +"You infernal idiots!" he exclaimed violently. "Fisher, if you interfere +with me any more I--I'll punch your head! Bertie, don't be such a fool!" + +He shook them off with an angry effort. Fisher laughed quietly. + +"You can't always hide your light, my dear fellow," he observed. "If you +will do impossible things, you will have to put up with the penalty of +being occasionally found out." + +"Silly ass!" commented Bertie. "Anyone would think that to save a few +hundred human lives was a thing to be ashamed of. It was the same thing +in South Africa; always slinking off into the background when the work +was done, till everyone took you for nothing but a looker-on--a chap who +ought to wear the V.C., if ever there was one," he ended, thrusting an +arm through Charlie's, as the latter, having put on his coat, turned +once more towards them. + +"Oh, you are utterly wrong," the boy said forcibly, almost angrily. "If +you judge a man by what he does on impulse you might decorate the +biggest blackguard in the world with the V.C." + +"You're made of impulse, my dear lad," Bertie remarked, walking off with +him. "You're a mass of impulse. That's why you do such idiotic things." + +Charlie yielded, chafing, to the friendly hand. + +"I should like to kick you, Bertie," he said. + +But he went no further than that. Bertie Richmond was his very good +friend, and he was Bertie's. Neither of them was likely to forget that +fact. + + +VIII + +"Oh, Charlie, here you are! I _am_ glad!" + +Molly entered the smoking-room with an air of resolution. She had just +returned from evening church with Fisher. They were late, and the latter +had gone off to dress forthwith. + +But Molly had glanced into the smoking-room, and, seeing Charlie alone +there, as she had half hoped but scarcely expected, she entered. + +Charlie sprang up instantly, his brown face exceedingly alert. + +"Come to the fire!" he said hospitably. + +Molly went, but did not sit down. She stood facing him on the +hearth-rug. Her young face was very troubled. + +"I want to tell you," she said steadily, "how sorry--and grieved--I am +for all the hard things I have said and thought of you. I would like to +retract them all. I was quite wrong. I took you for an idler--a buffoon +almost. I know better now. And I--I should like you to forgive me." + +Her voice suddenly faltered. Her eyes were full of tears she could +neither repress nor conceal. + +Charlie, however, seemed to notice nothing strained in the atmosphere. +He broke into a gay laugh and held out his hand. + +"Oh, that's all right," he said briskly. "Shake hands and forget what +those asses said about me! You were quite right, you know. I am a +buffoon. There isn't an inch of heroism anywhere about me. You took my +measure long ago, didn't you? To change the subject, I'm most awfully +pleased to hear that you and old Fisher have come to an understanding. +Congratulate you most heartily. There's solid worth in that chap. He +goes straight ahead and never plays the fool." + +He looked straight at her as he spoke. Not by the flicker of an eyelid +did he seem to recall the fact that he had once asked on his own behalf +that which he apparently so heartily approved of her bestowing upon +another. + +Yet Molly, torn with remorse over what was irrevocable, did a most +outrageous thing. + +"Charlie!" she cried, with a deep ringing passion that would not be +suppressed. "Why have I been deceived like this? Why didn't you tell me? +How could you let me imagine anything so false?" She flung out her other +hand to him and he took it; but still he laughed. + +"Oh, come, Molly!" he protested. "I did tell you, you know. I told you +the day after it happened. Don't you remember? I had to account for the +skirt." + +She wrenched her hands away from him. The thrill of laughter in his +voice seemed to jar all her nerves. She was, moreover, wearied with the +emotions of the day. + +"Oh, don't you see," she cried passionately, "how different it might +have been? If you had told me--if you had made me understand! I could +have cared--I did care--only you seemed to me--unworthy. How could I +know? What chance had I?" + +She bowed her head suddenly, and burst into a storm of bitter weeping. + +Charlie turned white to his lips. He stood perfectly motionless till the +anguished sobbing goaded him beyond endurance. Then he flung round with +a jerk. + +"Stop, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed harshly. "I can't bear it. It's +too much--too much." + +He moved close to her, his face twitching, and took her shaking +shoulders between his hands. + +"Molly!" he said almost violently. "You don't know what you said just +now. You didn't mean it. It has always been Fisher--always, from the +very beginning." + +She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing +as in passionate despair. + +And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the +smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over +the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time. + +Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken +stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy +had never seen there before--a look that it was impossible to ignore. + +Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room. + +"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly. + +He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers. + +"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired--upset. There is +nothing really the matter." + +But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip. + +"I will talk to you presently," he said. "You clear out!" + +He pushed past Charlie and went straight to the girl. His jaw was set +with a determination that would have astonished most of his friends. + +"What is it, Molly?" he said, halting close beside her. "What is wrong, +child?" + +But Molly could not tell him. She turned towards him indeed, laying an +imploring hand on his arm; but she kept her face hidden and uttered no +word. + +It was Charlie who plunged recklessly into the opening breach--plunged +with a wholesale gallantry, regardless of everything but the moment's +emergency. + +"It's my doing, Fisher," he declared, his voice shaking a little. "I've +been making an ass of myself. It was, partly your fault, too--yours and +Bertie's. Let her go! I'll explain." + +He was excited and he spoke quickly, but his eyes were very steady. + +"Molly," he said, "you go upstairs! You've got to dress, you know, and +you'll be late. I'll make it all right. Don't you worry yourself!" + +Molly lifted a perfectly white face and looked at Fisher. She met his +eyes, struggled with herself a moment, then with quivering lips turned +slowly away. He did not try to stop her. He realised that Charlie must +be disposed of before he attempted to extract an explanation from her. + +Charlie sprang to the door, shut it hastily after her, and turned the +key. + +"Now!" he said, and, wheeling, marched straight back to Fisher and +halted before him. "You want an explanation. You shall have one. You +gave my show away this afternoon. You made her imagine that in taking me +for an ordinary--or perhaps I should say a rather extraordinary--fool +she had done me an injustice. She came in her sweetness and told me she +was sorry. And I--forgot myself, and said things that made her cry. That +is the whole matter." + +"What did you say to her?" demanded Fisher. + +"I'm not going to tell you." + +"You shall tell me!" said Fisher. + +He took a step forward, all the hidden force in him risen to the +surface. + +Charlie faced him for a second with his head flung defiantly back, then, +as Fisher laid a powerful hand on his shoulder, he stuck his hands in +his pockets and smiled a little. + +"No, old chap," he said. "I'll apologise to you, if you like. But you +haven't any right to ask for more." + +"I have a right to know why what you said upset her," Fisher said. + +Charlie shook his head. + +"Not the smallest," he said. "But I should have thought your imagination +might have accomplished that much. Surely you needn't grudge the tears +of pity a woman wastes over a man she has had to disappoint?" + +He spoke with his eyes on Fisher's face. He was not afraid of Fisher, +yet his look of relief was unmistakable as the hand on his shoulder +relaxed. + +"You care for her, then?" Fisher said. + +Charlie flung impetuously away from him. + +"Oh, need we discuss the thing any further?" he said. "I'm on the wrong +side of the hedge, and that's enough. I hope you won't say any more to +her about it. You will only distress her." + +He walked to the end of the room and came slowly back to Fisher, whose +eyes were sternly fixed upon him. He thrust out his hand impulsively. + +"Forgive me, old chap!" he said. "After all, I've got the hardest part." + +Fisher's face softened. + +"I'm sorry, boy," he said, and took the proffered hand. + +"I'll clear out to-morrow," Charlie said. "You'll forget this foolery of +mine?" gripping Fisher's hand hard for a moment. + +Fisher did not answer him. He struck him instead a sounding blow on the +shoulder, and Charlie turned away satisfied. He had played a difficult +game with considerable skill. That it had been a losing game did not at +the moment enter into his calculations. He had not played for his own +stakes. + + +IX + +"Jove! It's a wild night," said Archie Croft comfortably, as he +stretched out his legs to the smoking-room fire. "What's become of +Charlie? He doesn't usually retire early." + +"I don't believe he has retired," said Bertie Richmond sleepily. "I saw +him go out something over an hour ago." + +"Out?" said Croft. "What on earth for?" + +"Up to some fool trick or other, no doubt," said Fisher from the +smoking-room sofa. + +"Hullo, Fisher! I thought you were asleep," said Bertie. "You ought to +be. It's after midnight. Time we all turned in if we mean to start early +with the guns to-morrow." + +Croft stretched himself and rose leisurely. + +"It's a positively murderous night!" he remarked, strolling to the +window. "There must be a tremendous sea." + +He drew aside the blind, staring at the blackness that seemed to press +against the pane. A moment later, with a sharp exclamation, he ripped +back the blind and flung the window wide open. An icy spout of rain and +snow whirled into the room. Richmond turned round to expostulate, but +was met by a face of such wild excitement that his protest remained +unuttered. + +"I saw a rocket!" Croft declared. + +"Oh, rats!" murmured Fisher. + +"It isn't rats!" he said indignantly. "It's a ship down among those +infernal rocks. I'm off to see what's doing." + +"Hi! Wait a minute!" exclaimed his host, starting up. "You are perfectly +certain, are you, Croft? No humbug? I heard no report." + +"Who could hear anything in a gale like this?" returned Croft +impatiently. "Yes, of course, I am certain. Are you coming?" + +"I must send a man on horseback to the life-boat station," said Bertie, +starting towards the door. "It's two miles round the headland. They may +not know there is anything up." + +He was out of the room with the words. The rest of the men in the +smoking-room followed. Fisher remained to shut the window. He stood a +couple of seconds before it, facing the hurricane. The night was like +pitch. The angry roar of the sea half-a-mile away surged up on the +tearing gale like the voice of a devouring monster. He turned away into +the cosy room and followed the others. + +The whole party went out into the raging night. They groped their way +after Bertie to the stables. A groom was dispatched on horseback to the +life-boat station. Lanterns were then procured, and, with the blast full +in their teeth, they fought their way to the shore. + +Here were darkness and desolation unspeakable. The tide was high. Great +waves, flashing white through the darkness, came smiting through the +rocks as if they would rend the very surface of the earth apart. The +clouds scurrying overhead uncovered a star or two and instantly drew +together in impenetrable darkness. + +Down by the sea-wall that protected the little village nestling between +the cliffs and the sea they found a knot of men and women. A short +distance away in the boiling tumult there shone a shifting light, but +between it and the shore the storm-god held undisputed possession. + +"That's her!" explained one of the men to Bertie Richmond. "She's sunk +right down in them rocks, sir. It's a little schooner. I see her masts +a-stickin' up just now." + +The man was one of his own gardeners. He yelled his information into +Bertie's ear with great enjoyment. + +"Have you sent to the lifeboat chaps?" shouted Bertie. + +"Young gentleman went an hour ago," came the answer. "But they are off +on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to +go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o' +rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit +o' eggshell. There's only three chaps aboard as far as we could see +awhile ago. And not a hundred yards off us. But it's a hundred yards of +death, as you might say. No boat could live through it. It ain't worth +the trying." + +A hundred yards of death and only three little human lives to be gained +by the awful risk of braving that hundred yards! + +Bertie turned away, feeling sick, yet silently agreeing. Who could hope +to pass unharmed through that raging darkness, that tossing nightmare of +great waters? Yet the thought of those three lives beating outward in +agony and terror while he and his friends stood helplessly by took him +by the throat. + +Suddenly through a lull of the tempest there came a great shout. + +The clouds had drifted asunder and a few stars shone vaguely down on the +wild scene. The dim light showed the doomed vessel wedged among the +rocks that stuck up, black and threatening, through the racing foam. + +Nearer at hand, huddled on the stout sea-wall, stood the little group of +watchers, their faces all turned outwards towards the two masts of the +little schooner, which remained faintly discernible through the shifting +gloom. + +It was not more than a hundred yards away, Bertie realised. Yet the +impossibility of rescue was as apparent as if it had been a hundred +miles from land. He fancied he could see a couple of figures half-way up +one of the masts, but the light was elusive. He could not be certain of +this. + +Suddenly a hand gripped his elbow, and he found Archie Croft beside him, +yelling excitedly. + +"Don't let him go!" he bawled. "It's madness--sheer madness!" + +Bertie turned sharply. Close to him, his head bare, and clothed still in +evening dress, stood Charlie Cleveland. A coil of rope lay at his feet. +He had knotted one end firmly round his body. + +"Listen, you fellows!" he cried. "I'm going to have a shot at it. Pay +out the rope as I go. Count up to five hundred, and if it is limp, pull +it in again. If it holds, make it fast! Got me?" + +He turned at once to a flight of iron steps that led off the wall down +into the awful, seething water. But someone, Fisher, sprang suddenly +after him and held him back. Charlie wheeled instantly. The light of a +lantern striking on his face revealed it, unafraid, even laughing. + +"You silly ass!" he cried. "Hang on to the rope instead of behaving like +a fellow's grandmother!" + +"You shan't do it!" Fisher said, holding him fast. "It is certain +death!" + +"All right," Charlie yelled back. "I choose death, then. I prefer it to +sitting still and seeing others die. My life is my own. I choose to risk +it." + +He looked at Fisher closely for a moment, then, with one immense effort, +he wrenched himself away. He went leaping down the steps as a boy going +for a summer-morning dip. + +Fisher turned round and met Bertie Richmond hurrying to help him. + +"Let him go!" Fisher said briefly. + +Thereafter came a terrible interval of waiting. The sky was clearing, +but the tempest did not abate. The rope ran out with jerks and pauses. +Fisher stood and counted at the head of the steps, his eyes on the +tumult that had swallowed up the slight active figure of the one man +among them all who had elected to risk his life against those +overwhelming odds. + +"He must be dashed to pieces!" Bertie Richmond gasped to himself, with a +shudder. + +The rope ceased to run. Fisher had counted four hundred and fifty. He +counted on resolutely to five hundred, then turned and raised his hand +to the men who held the coil. They hauled at the rope. It was limp. Hand +over hand they dragged it in through the foam. Fisher peered downwards. +It came so rapidly that he thought it must have parted among the rocks. +Then he saw a dark object bobbing strangely among the waves. He went +down the steps, that quivered and trembled like cardboard under his +feet. + +Clinging to the iron rail, he reached out a hand and guided the rope to +him. A great sea broke over him and nearly swept him off. He saved +himself by hanging with both hands on to the rope. Thus he was dragged +up the steps to safety, and behind him, buffeted, bleeding, helpless, +came two limp bodies lashed fast together. + +They cut the two asunder by the light of the lanterns, and one of them, +Charlie, staggered to his feet. + +"I've got to go back!" he gasped. "You pulled too soon. There are two +others." + +He dashed the blood from his face, seized a pocket flask someone held +out to him, and drained it at a long gulp. + +"That's better!" he said. "That you, Fisher? Good-bye, old chap!" + +The first pale light of a rising moon burst suddenly through the cloud +drift. + +"I'll go myself," Fisher abruptly said. + +Even in that roar of sound they heard the boyish laugh that rang out +upon the words. + +"No, no, no!" shouted Charlie. "Bless you, dear fellow! But this is my +job--alone. You've got to stay behind--you're wanted." + +He stood a few seconds poising himself on the steps, drawing deep +breaths in preparation for the coming struggle. The moonlight smote upon +him. He lifted his face to it, and seemed to hesitate. Then suddenly he +turned to Fisher and laid impetuous hands upon his shoulders. + +"Lookers-on see most of the game," he said. "And I've been one from the +first, though I own I thought at one time I should like to take a hand. +Go on and prosper, old boy! You've played a winning game all along, you +know. You're a better chap than I am, and it's you she really cares +for--always has been. That's how I came to know what I'd got to do. I +find it's easy--thank God!--it's very easy." + +And with that he plunged down again into the breakers. The tide was on +the turn. The worst fury was over. The awful darkness had lifted. + +Those who mutely watched him fancied they heard him laugh as he met the +crested waves. + + +X + +Molly had spent a night of feverish restlessness. It was with a feeling +of relief that she answered a tap that came at her door in the early +dusk of the January morning; but she gave a start of surprise when she +saw Mrs. Langdale enter. + +She started up on her elbow. + +"Oh, what is it? It has been a fearful night. Has something dreadful +happened?" she cried. + +Mrs. Langdale's usually merry face was pale and quiet. She went quickly +to the girl's side and took her hands into a tight clasp. + +"My dear," she said, "Gerald Fisher asked me to come and tell you. There +has been a wreck in the night. A vessel ran on to the rocks. There were +three men on board. They could not reach them with an ordinary boat, and +the life-boat was not available." + +"Go on!" gasped Molly, her eyes on her friend's face. + +Mrs. Langdale went on, with an effort. + +"Charlie Cleveland--dear fellow--went out to them with a rope. He +reached them, brought one safely back, returned for the +others--and--and--" Her voice failed. Her hands tightened upon Molly's; +they were very cold. "He managed to get to them again," she whispered, +"but--the rope wasn't long enough. He unlashed himself and bound them +together. They pulled them ashore--both living. But--he--was lost!" + +The composure suddenly forsook Mrs. Langdale's face. She hid it on +Molly's pillow. + +"Oh, Molly, that darling boy!" she cried, with a burst of tears. "And +they say he went to his death--laughing." + +"He would," Molly said, in a strange voice. "I always knew he would." + +She lay back again. Her face was suddenly pinched and grey, but she felt +not the smallest desire to cry. + +"I wonder why!" she presently said. "How I wonder why!" + +Mrs. Langdale recovered herself with an effort. The frozen voice seemed +to give her strength. + +"Have we any right to ask that?" she whispered. "No one on this side can +ever know." + +"Oh, I think you are wrong," Molly said. "We can't be meant to grope in +outer darkness." + +Mrs. Langdale whispered something about "those the gods love." She was +too broken-down herself to be able to offer any solid comfort. + +After a painful silence she got up and busied herself with reviving +Molly's fire, which had almost gone out. She felt as she had felt only +once before in her life, and that had been ten years previously, when +her only child had died suddenly. She wished passionately that she were +back in Calcutta with her husband. She hated the bleak English winter, +the cruel English seas. + +Molly lay quite still for some time, her young face drawn and stricken. + +At length she got up and went to the window. It was a morning of bleak +winds and shifting clouds. The sea was just visible, very far and dim +and grey. She stood a long while gazing stonily out. + +"Can I get you anything, darling?" said Mrs. Langdale's voice softly +behind her. + +"No, thank you," the girl said, without turning. "Please leave me; +that's all!" + +And Mrs. Langdale crept away through the hushed house to her own +apartment, there to lay down her head and cry herself exhausted. Dear, +gallant Charlie! Her heart ached for him. His irrepressible gaiety, his +reckless generosity, these had become the attributes of a hero for ever +in her eyes. + +After a while her hostess came to her, pale and tearful, to beg her, if +she possibly could, to show herself at the breakfast table. Captain +Fisher had repeatedly asked for her, she said; and he seemed very +uneasy. + +Mrs. Langdale rose, washed her face, and made an effort to powder away +the evidence of her grief. Then she went bravely down and faced the +silent crowd in the breakfast room. No one was eating anything. The very +air smote chill and cheerless as she entered. As if he had been lying in +wait for her, Fisher pounced upon her on the threshold. + +"I must speak to you for a moment," he said. "Come into the +smoking-room!" + +Mrs. Langdale accompanied him without a word. + +"How is she?" he demanded, almost before they entered. "How did she take +it?" + +There was something about Fisher just then with which Mrs. Langdale was +wholly unacquainted. He was alert, impatient, almost feverish. She +answered him with brevity. + +"I think she is stunned by the news." + +He began to pace to and fro with heavy restlessness. + +"Ask her to come to me if she is up!" he said at length. "Tell her--tell +her not to be afraid! Say I am waiting for her. I must see her." + +Mrs. Langdale hesitated. + +"She asked me to leave her alone," she said irresolutely. + +Fisher wheeled swiftly round. + +"I don't think she will refuse to see me," he said. "At least try!" + +There was entreaty in his voice, urgent entreaty, which Mrs. Langdale +found herself unable to withstand. + +She departed therefore on her thankless errand and Fisher flung himself +down at the table with his face buried in his hands. In this room but a +few short hours ago Charlie had faced and turned away his anger with all +the courage and sweetness which, combined, had made of him the hero he +was. + +It seemed to Fisher, looking back upon the interview, that the boy had +done a braver thing, had offered a sacrifice more splendid, there, in +that room, than any he had done or offered a little later down on the +howling shore. + +There came a slight sound at the door and Fisher jerked himself upright. +Molly had entered softly. She was standing, looking at him with a +strange species of wonder on her white face. He rose instantly and went +to meet her. + +"I have something to give you, Molly," he said. She raised her eyes +questioningly. + +"It was brought to me," he said, controlling his voice to quietness with +a strong effort, "after Mrs. Langdale went to tell you of--what had +happened. I wish to give it to you myself. And--afterwards to ask you a +question." + +"What is it?" Molly asked, with a sudden sharp eagerness. + +"A note," Fisher said, and gave her a folded paper. "It was found on his +dressing-table, addressed to you. His servant brought it to me." + +Molly's hand trembled as she took the missive. + +Fisher turned away from her, and stood before the window in dead +silence. There was a long, quiet pause. Then a sudden sound made him +swing swiftly round and stride to the door to turn the key. The next +moment he was stooping over Molly, who had sunk down on the hearth-rug +and was sobbing terrible, anguished sobs. + +He lifted her to a chair with no fuss of words, and knelt beside her, +stroking her hair, comforting her, with something of a woman's +tenderness. + +Molly suffered him passively, and the first wild agony of her trouble +spent itself unrestrained on his shoulder. Then she grew calmer, and +presently begged him in a whisper to read the message which Charlie had +left behind him. + +For a moment Fisher hesitated; then, as she repeated her desire, he took +up the scrawl and deliberately read it through. It had evidently been +written immediately after his interview with the writer. + + "Dear Molly," the note said, "It's all right with Fisher, so + don't you worry yourself! I clear out to-morrow, so that there + may be no awkwardness, but we haven't quarrelled, he and I. + Forget all about this business! It's been a mistake from start + to finish. I ought to have known that I was only fit to be a + looker-on when I fell at the first fence. You put your money on + Fisher and you'll never lose a halfpenny! I'm nothing but a + humble spectator, and I wish you--and him also--the best of + luck. If I might be permitted, to offer a little, serious, + fatherly advice, it would be this: + + "Don't let yourself get dazzled by the outside shine of any + man's actions! A man isn't necessarily a hero because he + doesn't run away. It is the true-hearted, steady-going chaps + like Fisher who keep the world wagging. They are the solid + material. The others are only a sort of trimming stuck on for + effect and torn off when the time comes for something new. So + marry the man you love, Molly, and forget that anyone else ever + made a fool of himself for your sweet sake! + + "Your friend for ever, + + "Charlie." + +Thus ended, with a simplicity sublime, the few words of fatherly advice +which as a legacy this boy had left behind him. + +Fisher laid the note reverently aside and spoke with a great gentleness. + +"Tell me, dear," he said, "will it make it any easier for you if I go +away? If so--you have only to say so." + +The words cost him greater resolution than any he had ever uttered. Yet +he said them without apparent effort. + +Molly did not answer him for many seconds. Her head drooped a little +lower. + +"I have been--dazzled," she said at last, and there was a piteous quiver +in her voice. "I do not know if I shall ever make you understand." + +"You need never attempt it, Molly," he answered very steadily. "I make +no claim upon you. Simply, I am yours to keep or to throw away. Which +are you going to do?" + +He paused for her answer. But she made none. Only in her trouble it +seemed to him that she clung to his support. + +He drew her a little closer to him. + +"Molly," he said very tenderly, "do you want me, child? Shall I stay?" + +And at length she answered him, realising that it was to this man, hero +or no hero, she had given her heart. + +"Yes, stay, Gerald!" she whispered earnestly. "I want you." + + * * * + +Perhaps he understood her better than she thought. Perhaps Charlie's +last words to him had taught him a wisdom to which he had not otherwise +attained. Or perhaps his love was large enough to cover and hide all +that might be lacking in that which she offered to him. + +But at least neither then nor later did he ever seek to know how deeply +the glamour of another man's heroism had pierced her heart. She tried to +whisper an explanation, but he hushed the words unuttered. + +"It is all right, child," he said. "I am satisfied. It is only the +lookers-on who are allowed to see all the cards. I think when we meet +him again he will tell us that we played them right." + +There was a deep quiver in his voice as he spoke, but there was no lack +of confidence in his words. Looking upwards, Molly saw that his eyes +were full of tears. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE SECOND FIDDLE + + +A low whistle floated through the slumbrous silence and died softly away +among the sand-dunes. + +The man who sat in the little wooden summer-house that faced the sea +raised his head from his hand and stared outwards. The signal had +scarcely penetrated to his inner consciousness, but it had vaguely +disturbed his train of thought. His eyes were dull and emotionless as he +stared across the blue, smiling water to the long, straight line of the +horizon. They were heavy also as if he had not slept for weeks, and +there were deep lines about his clean-shaven mouth. + +Before him on the rough, wooden table lay a letter--a letter that he +knew by heart, yet carried always with him. The writing upon it was firm +and regular, but unmistakably a woman's. It began: "Dear Hugh," and it +ended: "Yours very sincerely," and it had been written to tell him that +because he was crippled for life the writer could no longer entertain +the idea of sharing hers with him. + +There had been a ring enclosed with the letter, but this he had not +kept. He had dropped it into the heart of a blazing fire on the day +that he had first been able to move without assistance. He had not done +it in anger. Simply the consciousness of possessing it had been a pain +intolerable to him. So he had destroyed it; but the letter he had kept +through all the dreary months that had followed that awful time. It was +all that was left to him of one whom he had loved passionately, blindly, +foolishly, and who had ceased to love him on the day, now nearly a year +ago, when his friends had ceased to call him by the nickname of +Hercules, that had been his from his boyhood. + +And this was her wedding-day--a day of entrancing sunshine, of magic +breezes, of perfect June. + +He was picturing her to himself as he sat there, just as he had pictured +her often--ah, often--in the old days. + +From his place near the altar he watched her coming towards him up the +great, white-decked church. Her eyes were shining with unclouded +happiness. Behind her bridal veil he caught a glimpse of the exquisite +beauty that chained his heart. Straight towards him the vision moved, +and he--he braced himself to meet it. + +A sharp pang of physical pain suddenly wrung his nerves, and in a moment +the vision had passed from his eyes. He groaned and once more covered +his face. Yes, it was her wedding-day. She was there before the altar in +all the splendour of her youth and her loveliness. But he was alone +with his suffering, his broken life, and the long, long, empty years +stretching away before him. + +He awoke to the soft splashing of the summer tide, out beyond the +sand-dunes, and he heard again the clear, low whistle which before had +disturbed his dream. + +He remained motionless, and a dim, detached wonder crossed his mind. He +had thought himself quite alone. + +Again the whistle sounded. It seemed to come from immediately below him. +Slowly and painfully he raised himself. + +The next instant an enormous Newfoundland dog rushed panting into his +retreat and proceeded to search every inch of the place with violent +haste. The man on the bench sat still and watched him, but when the +animal with a sudden, clumsy movement knocked his crutches on to the +floor and out of his reach, he uttered an exclamation of annoyance. + +The dog gave him a startled glance and continued his headlong +investigation. He was very wet, and he left a trail of sea water +wherever he went. Finally he bounded out as hurriedly as he had entered, +and Hugh Durant was left a prisoner, the nearest of his crutches a full +yard away. + +He sat and stared at them with a heavy frown. His helplessness always +oppressed him far more than the pain he had to endure. He cursed the dog +under his breath. + +"Oh, I am sorry!" a voice said suddenly some seconds later. "Let me get +them for you!" + +Durant looked round sharply. A brown-faced girl in a short, cotton dress +stood in the doorway. Her head was bare and covered with short, black, +curly hair that shone wet in the sunshine. Her eyes were very blue. For +some reason she looked rather ashamed of herself. + +She moved forward barefooted and picked up Durant's crutches. + +"I'm sorry, sir," she said again. "I didn't know there was any one here +till I heard Cæsar knock something down." + +She dusted the tops of the crutches with her sleeve and propped them +against the table. + +"Thanks!" said Durant curtly. He was not feeling sociable--he could not +feel sociable--on that day of all days in his life's record. + +Yet, as if attracted by something, the girl lingered. + +"It's lovely down on the shore," she said half shyly. + +"No doubt," said Durant, and again his tone was curt to churlishness. + +Then abruptly he felt that he had been unnecessarily surly, and wondered +if he was getting querulous. + +"Been bathing?" he asked, with a brief glance at her wet hair. + +She gave him a quick, friendly smile. + +"Yes, sir," she said; and added: "Cæsar and I." + +"Fond of the sea, eh?" said Durant. + +The soft eyes shone, and the man, who had been a sailor, told himself +that they were deep-sea eyes. + +"I love it," the girl said very earnestly. + +Her intensity surprised him a little. He had not expected it in one who, +to judge by her dress, must be a child of the humble fisher-folk. His +interest began to awaken. + +"You live near here?" he questioned. + +She pointed a brown hand towards the sand-dunes. + +"On the shore, sir," she said. "We hear the waves all night." + +"So do I," said Durant, and his voice was suddenly sharp with a pain he +could not try to silence. "All night and all day." + +She did not seem to notice his tone. + +"You live in the cottage on the cliff?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"I came last week," he said. "I hadn't seen the sea for nearly a year. I +wanted to be alone. And--so I am." + +"All alone?" she queried quickly. + +He nodded again. + +"With my servant," he said. He repeated with a certain doggedness: "I +wanted to be alone." + +There was a pause. The girl was standing in the doorway. Her dog was +basking in the sunshine not a yard away. She looked at the cripple with +thoughtful eyes. + +"I live alone, too," she said. "That is--Cæsar and I." + +That successfully aroused Durant's curiosity. + +"You!" he said incredulously. + +She put up her hand with a quick movement and pushed the short curls +back from her forehead. + +"I am used to it," she said, with an odd womanly dignity. "I have been +practically alone all my life." + +Durant looked at her closely. She spoke in a very low voice, but there +were rich notes in it that caught his attention. + +"Isn't that very unusual for a girl of your age?" he said. + +She smiled again without answering. A blue sunbonnet dangled on her arm. +In the silence that followed she put it on. The great dog arose at the +action, stretched himself, and went to her side. She laid her hand on +his head. + +"We play hide-and-seek, Cæsar and I," she said, "among the dunes." + +Durant took his crutches and stumbled with difficulty to his feet. The +lower part of his body was terribly crippled and weak. Only the broad +shoulders of the man testified to the splendid strength that had once +been his, and could never be his again as long as he lived. He saw the +girl turn her head aside as he moved. The sunbonnet completely hid her +face. A sharp spasm of pain set his own like a stone mask. + +Suddenly she looked round. + +"Will you--will you come and see me some day?" she asked him shyly. + +Her tone was rather of request than invitation, and Durant was curiously +touched. He had a feeling that she awaited his reply with eagerness. + +He smiled for the first time. + +"With pleasure," he said courteously, "if the path is easy and the +distance not too great for my powers." + +"It is quite close," she said readily, "hardly a stone's throw from +here--a little wooden cottage--the first you come to." + +"And you live quite alone?" Durant said. + +"I like it best," she assured him. + +"Will you tell me your name?" he asked. + +"My name is Molly," she answered quietly. + +"Nothing else?" said Durant with a puzzled frown. + +"Nothing else, sir," she said, with her air of womanly dignity. + +He made no outward comment, but inwardly he wondered. Was this odd +little, dark-haired creature some nameless waif of the sea brought up on +the charity of the fisher-folk, he asked himself. + +She stood aside for him to pass, drawing Cæsar out of his way. He +stopped a moment to pat the dog's head. And so standing, leaning upon +his crutches, he suddenly and keenly looked into the olive-tinted face +that the sunbonnet shadowed. + +"Sorry for me, eh?" he said, and he uttered a laugh that was short and +very bitter. + +She bent down over the dog. + +"Yes, I am sorry," she said, almost under her breath. + +Bending lower, she picked up something that lay on the ground between +them. + +"You dropped this," she said. + +He took it from her with a grim hardening of the mouth. It was the +letter he had received from his _fiancée_ a year ago. But his eyes never +left the face of the girl before him. + +"I wonder--" he said abruptly, and stopped. + +There was a pause. The girl waited, her hand nervously caressing the +Newfoundland's curls. She did not raise her eyes, but the lids fluttered +strangely. + +"I wonder," Durant said, and his voice was suddenly kind, "if I might +ask you to do something for me." + +She gave him a swift glance. + +"Please do!" she murmured. + +"This letter," he said, and he held it out to her. + +"I should like it torn up--very small." + +She took the envelope and hesitated. Durant was watching her. There was +unmistakable mastery in his eyes. + +"Go on!" he said briefly. + +And with a quick, startled movement, she obeyed. The letter fluttered +around them both in tiny fragments. Hugh Durant looked on with a hard, +impassive face, as he might have looked on at an execution. + +The girl's hands were shaking. She glanced at him once or twice +uncertainly. + +When the work of destruction was accomplished she made him a nervous +curtsey and turned to go. + +Durant's face softened a second time into a smile. + +"Thank you--Molly," he said, and he put his hand to his hat though she +was not looking at him. + +And afterwards he stood among the fragments of his letter and watched +till both the girl and the dog were out of sight. + +Twenty-four hours later Hugh Durant stood on the sandy shore and tapped +with his crutch on the large, flat stone that was set for a step on the +threshold of the little, wooden cottage behind the sand dunes. + +He had reached the place with much difficulty, persevering with a +doggedness characteristic of him; and there were great drops on his +forehead though the afternoon was cloudy and cool. + +A quick step sounded in answer to his summons, and in a moment his +hostess appeared at the open door. + +"Why didn't you come straight in?" she said hospitably. + +She was dressed in lilac print. Her sleeves were turned up to the +elbows, and she wore a big apron with a bib. He noticed that her feet +were no longer bare. + +He took off his hat as he answered. + +"Perhaps I might have been tempted to do so," he said, "if I had felt +equal to mounting the step without assistance." + +"Oh!" She pulled down her sleeves hastily. "Will you let me help you?" +she suggested shyly. + +Durant's eyes were slightly drawn with pain. Nevertheless they were very +friendly as he made reply. + +"Do you think you can?" he said. + +She took his hat from him with an anxious smile, and then the crutch +that he held towards her. + +"Tell me exactly what to do!" she said in her sweet, low voice. "I am +very strong." + +"If I may put my arm on your shoulder," Durant said, "I think it can be +managed. But say at once if it is too much for you!" + +Her face was deeply flushed as she bent from the step to give him the +help he needed. + +"Bear harder!" she said, as he leant his weight upon her. "Bear much +harder!" + +There was an odd little quiver in her voice, but, slight as she was, she +supported him with sturdy strength. + +The door opened straight into the tiny cottage parlour. A large wicker +chair, well cushioned, stood in readiness. As Durant lowered himself +into it, he saw that the girl's eyes were brimming with tears. + +"I've hurt you!" he exclaimed. + +"No, no!" she said, and turned quickly away. "You didn't bear nearly +hard enough." + +He laughed a little, though his teeth were clenched. + +"You're a very strong woman, Molly," he said. + +"Oh, I am," she answered instantly. "Now shall you be all right while I +go to fetch tea?" + +"Of course," he said. "Pray don't make a stranger of me!" + +She disappeared into the room at the back of the cottage, and he was +left alone. The great dog came in with stately stride and lay down at +his feet. + +Durant sat and looked about him. There was little to attract the eye in +the simple furnishing of the tiny room. There was a small bookcase in +one corner, but it was covered by a red curtain. Two old-fashioned Dutch +figures stood on the mantelpiece on each side of a cheap little clock +that seemed to tick at him almost resentfully. The walls were tinted +green and bore no pictures or decoration of any sort. There was a plain +white tablecloth on the table, and in the middle stood a handleless jug +filled with pink and white wild roses, freshly gathered. There was no +carpet. The floor was strewn with beach sand. + +All these details Durant took in with keen interest. Nothing could have +exceeded the simplicity of this dwelling by the sea. There had obviously +been no attempt at artistic arrangement. Cleanliness and a neatness +almost severe were its only characteristics. + +"I hope you like toasted scones, sir," said Molly's voice in the +doorway. + +He looked round to see her come forward with the tea-tray. + +"Nothing better," he said lightly, "particularly if you have made them +yourself." + +She set down her tray and smiled at him. Her short, curling hair gave +her an almost elfish look. + +"I've been so busy getting ready," she said childishly. "I've never had +a gentleman to tea before." + +"That is a very great honour for me," said Durant. + +Molly looked delighted. + +"I think the honour is mine," she said in her shy voice. "I am just +going to fetch the wooden chair out of the kitchen." + +She departed hastily as if embarrassed, and Durant smiled to himself. It +was wonderful how the oppression had been lifted from his spirit since +his meeting with this lonely dweller on the shore. + +When Molly reappeared, he saw that she had assumed a dignity worthy of +the occasion. She sat down behind the brown teapot with a serious face. +He waited for her to lead the conversation, and the result was complete +silence for some seconds. + +Then she said suddenly: + +"Have you been sitting in the summer-house again?" + +"No," said Durant. + +"I am glad of that," said Molly. + +"Why?" he asked. + +She hesitated. + +"Isn't it rather a lonely place?" she said. + +He smiled faintly. + +"You know I came here to be lonely, Molly," he said. + +"Yes; you told me," said Molly, and he fancied that he heard her sigh. + +"Are you never lonely?" he asked in a kindly tone. + +"Often," she said. "Often." + +She was pouring the tea as she spoke. Her head was slightly bent. + +"And so you took pity on me?" said Durant. + +She shook her head suddenly and vigorously. + +"It wasn't that, sir," she said in a very low voice. "I--I +wanted--someone--to speak to." + +"I see," said Durant gently. He added after a moment: "Do you know, I am +glad I chanced to be that someone." + +She smiled at him over the teapot. + +"You weren't pleased--at first," she said. "You were angry. I heard you +saying--" + +"What?" said Durant. + +He looked across at her and laughed naturally, spontaneously, for the +first time. + +Molly had forgotten to be either embarrassed or dignified. + +"I don't know what it was," she said; "I only know what it sounded +like." + +"And that made you want to speak to me?" said Durant. + +The brown face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that +there was sadness in her eyes. + +"It didn't frighten me away," she said. + +"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now," +said Hugh Durant quietly. + +She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest. +Then, changing her mind, she remained silent. + +"Yes," he said. "Please say it!" + +She shook her head without speaking. + +But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity. + +"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked. + +She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side, +looking down at him. + +"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically. + +He laughed rather drearily. + +"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said. + +And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly +turned the conversation. + +Later, when he took his leave, he stood on her step and looked out to +the long, grey line of sea with a faint, dissatisfied frown on his face. + +"You're not afraid--living here?" he asked her at the last moment. + +"What is there to fear?" said Molly. "I have Cæsar, and there are other +cottages not far away." + +"Yes, I know," he said. "But at night--when it's dark--" + +A sudden glory shone in the girl's pure eyes. + +"Oh, no, sir," she said. "I am not afraid." + +And he departed, hobbling with difficulty up the long, sandy slope. + +At the top he paused and looked out over the grey, unquiet sea. The +dissatisfaction on his face had given place to perplexity and a faint, +dawning wonder that was like the birth of Hope. + + * * * + +During the long summer days that followed, that strange friendship, +begun at the moment when Hugh Durant's life had touched its lowest point +of suffering and misery, ripened into a curiously close intimacy. + +The girl was his only visitor--the only friend who penetrated behind the +barrier of loneliness that he had erected for himself. He had sought the +place sick at heart and utterly weary of life, desiring only to be left +alone. And yet, oddly enough, he did not resent the intrusion of this +outsider, who had openly told him that she was sorry. + +She visited him occasionally at his hermitage, but more frequently she +would seek him out in his summer-house and take possession of him there +with a winning enchantment that he made no effort to resist. Sometimes +she brought him tea there; sometimes she persuaded him to return with +her to her cottage on the shore. + +The embarrassment had wholly passed from her manner. She was eager and +ingenuous as a child. And yet there was something in her--a depth of +feeling, a concentration half-revealed--that made him aware of her +womanhood. She was never confidential with him, but yet he felt her +confidence in every word she uttered. + +And the life that had ebbed so low turned in the man's veins and began +to flow with a steady, rising surge of which he was only vaguely +conscious. + +Molly had become his keenest interest. He had ceased to think with +actual pain of the woman who had loved his strength, but had shrunk in +horror from his weakness. His bitterness had seemed to disperse with the +fragments of her torn letter. It was only a memory to him now--scarcely +even that. + +"This place has done me a lot of good," he said to Molly one day. "I +have written to my friend Gregory Mountfort to come and see me. He is my +doctor." + +She looked up at him quickly. She was sitting on her doorstep and the +August sunlight was on her hair. There were wonderful glints of gold +among the dark curls. + +"Shall you go away, then?" she asked. + +"I may--soon," he said. + +She was silent, bending over some work that she had taken up. The man +looked down at the bowed head. The old look of perplexity, of wonder, +was in his eyes. + +"What shall you do?" he said abruptly. + +She made a startled movement, but did not raise her eyes. + +"I shall just--go on," she said, in a voice that was hardly audible. + +"Not here," he said. "You will be lonely." + +There was an unusual note of mastery in his voice. She glanced up, and +met his eyes resolutely for a moment. + +"I am used to loneliness," she said slowly. + +"But you don't prefer it?" he said. + +She bent her head again. + +"Yes, I prefer it," she said. + +There followed a pause. Then abruptly Durant asked a question. + +"Are you still sorry for me?" he said. + +"No," said Molly. + +He bent slightly towards her. Movement had become much easier to him of +late. + +"Molly," he said very gently, "that is the kindest thing you have ever +said." + +She laughed in a queer, shaky note over her work. + +He bent nearer. + +"You have done a tremendous lot for me," he said, speaking very softly. +"I wonder if I dare ask of you--one thing more?" + +She did not answer. He put his hand on her shoulder. + +"Molly," he said, "will you marry me?" + +"No," said Molly under her breath. + +"Ah!" he said. "Forgive me for asking!" + +She looked up at him then with that in her eyes which he could not +understand. + +"Mr. Durant," she said, steadily, "I thank you very much, and it +isn't--that. But I can only be your friend." + +"Never anything more, Molly?" he said, and he smiled at her, very +gently, very kindly, but without tenderness. + +"No, sir," Molly said in the same steady tone. "Never anything more." + + * * * + +"Well," said Gregory Mountfort on the following day, "this place has +done wonders for you, Hugh. You're a different man." + +"I believe I am," said Hugh. + +He spoke with his eyes upon a bouquet of poppies and corn that had been +left at his door without any message early that morning. It was eloquent +to him of a friendship that did not mean to be lightly extinguished, but +his heart was heavy notwithstanding. He had begun to desire something +greater than friendship. + +"Physically," said Mountfort, "you are stronger than I ever expected to +see you again. You don't suffer much pain now, do you?" + +"No, not much," said Durant. + +He turned to stare out of his open window at the sunlit sea. His eyes +were full of weariness. + +"Look here," the doctor said. "You're not an invalid any longer. I +should leave this place if I were you. Go abroad! Go round the world! +Don't stagnate any longer! It isn't worthy of you." + +Hugh Durant shook his head. + +"It's no good trying to float a stranded hulk, dear fellow," he said. +"Don't attempt it! I am better off where I am." + +"You ought to get married," his friend returned brusquely. "You weren't +created for the lonely life." + +"I shall never marry," Durant said quietly. + +And Mountfort was disappointed. He wondered if he were still vexing his +soul over the irrevocable. + +He had motored down from town, and in the afternoon he carried his +patient off for a thirty-mile spin. They went through the depths of the +country, through tiny villages hidden among the hills, through long +stretches of pine woods, over heather-covered uplands. But though it did +him good, Durant was conscious of keenest pleasure when, returning, they +ran into view of the sea. He felt that the shore and the sand-dunes were +his own peculiar heritage. + +Mountfort steered for the village scattered over the top of the cliff. +Durant had persuaded him to remain for the night, and he had to send a +telegram. They puffed up a steep, winding hill to the post-office, and +the doctor got out. + +"Back in thirty seconds," he said, as he walked away. + +Hugh was in no hurry. It was a wonderfully calm evening. The sea looked +like a sheet of silver, motionless, silent, immense. The tide was very +low. The sand-dunes looked mere hummocks from that great height. Myriads +of martens were circling about the edge of the cliff, which was +protected by a crazy wooden railing. He sat and watched them without +much interest. He was thinking chiefly of that one cottage on the shore +a hundred feet below, which he knew so well. + +He wondered if Molly had been to the summer-house to look for him; and +then, chancing to glance up, he caught sight of her coming towards him +from the roadside. At the same instant something jerked in the motor, +and it began to move. It was facing up the hill, and the angle was a +steep one. Very slowly at first the wheels revolved, and the car moved +straight backwards as if pushed by an unseen hand. + +Hugh realised the danger in a moment. The road curved sharply not a +dozen yards behind him, and at that curve was the sheer precipice of the +cliff. He was powerless to apply the brakes, and he could not even throw +himself out. The sudden consciousness of this ran through him piercing +as a sword-blade. + +In every pulse of his being he felt the intense, the paralysing horror +of violent death. For the first awful moment he could not even call for +help. The sensation of falling headlong backwards gripped his throat +and choked his utterance. + +He made a wild, ineffectual movement with his hands. And then he heard a +loud cry. A woman's figure flashed towards him. She seemed to swoop as +the martens swooped along the face of the cliff. The car was running +smoothly towards that awful edge. He felt that it was very +near--horribly near; but he could not turn to look. + +Even as the thought darted through his brain he saw Molly, wide-eyed, +frenzied, clinging to the side of the car. She was in the act of +springing on to it, and that knowledge loosened his tongue. + +He yelled to her hoarsely to keep away. He even tried to thrust her +hands off the woodwork. But she withstood him fiercely, with a strength +that agonised and overcame. In a second she was on the step, where she +swayed perilously, then fell forward on her hands and knees at his feet. + +The car continued to run back. There came a sudden jerk, a crash of +rending wood, a frightful pause. The railing had splintered. They were +on the brink. Hugh bent and tried to take her in his arms. + +He was strung to meet that awful plunge; he was face to face with death; +but--was it by some miracle?--the car was stayed. There, on the very +edge of destruction, with not an inch to spare, it stood suddenly +motionless, as if checked by some mysterious, unseen force. + +As complete understanding returned to him, Hugh saw that the woman at +his feet had thrown herself upon the foot brake and was holding it +pressed down with both her rigid hands. + + * * * + +"Yes; but who taught her where to look for the brake?" said Mountfort +two hours later. + +The excitement was over, but the subject fascinated Mountfort. The girl +had sprung away and disappeared down one of the cliff paths directly +Hugh had been extricated from danger. Mountfort was curious about her, +but Hugh was uncommunicative. He had no answer ready to Mountfort's +question. He scarcely seemed to hear it. + +Barely a minute after its utterance he reached for his crutches and got +upon his feet. + +"I am going down to the shore," he said. "I shan't sleep otherwise. +You'll excuse me, old fellow?" + +Mountfort looked at him and nodded. He was very intimate with Hugh. + +"Don't mind me!" he said. + +And Hugh went out alone in the summer dusk. + +The night was almost ghostly in its stillness. He went down the winding +path that he knew so well without a halt. Far away the light of a +steamer travelled over the quiet water. The sea murmured drowsily as the +tide rose. It was not quite dark. + +Outside her cottage-door he stopped and tapped upon the stone. The door +stood open, and as he waited he heard a clear, low whistle behind him on +the dunes. She was coming towards him, the great dog Cæsar bounding by +her side. As she drew near he noticed again how slight she was, and +marvelled at her strength. + +She reached him in silence. The light was very dim. He put out his hand +to her, but somehow he could not utter a word. + +"I knew it must be you," she said. "I--I was waiting for you." + +She put her hand into his; but still the man stood mute. No words would +come to him. + +She looked at him uncertainly, almost nervously. Then-- + +"What is it?" she asked, under her breath. + +He spoke at last but not to utter the words she expected. + +"I haven't come to say, 'Thank you,' Molly," he said. "I have come to +ask why." + +"Oh!" said Molly. + +She was startled, confused, almost scared, by the mastery that underlay +the gentleness of his tone. He kept her hand in his, standing there, +facing her in the dimness; and, cripple as he was, she knew him for a +strong man. + +"I have come to ask," he said--"and I mean to know--why yesterday you +refused to marry me." + +She made a quick movement. His words astounded her. She felt inclined to +run away. But he kept her prisoner. + +"Don't be afraid of me, Molly!" he said half sadly. "You had a reason. +What was it." + +She bit her lip. Her eyes were full of sudden tears. + +"Tell me!" he said. + +And she answered, as if he compelled her: + +"It was because--because you don't love me," she said with difficulty. + +She felt his hand tighten upon hers. + +"Ah!" he said. "And that was--the only reason?" + +Molly was trembling. + +"It was the only reason that mattered," she said in a choked voice. + +He leant towards her in the dusk. + +"Molly," he said. "Molly, I worship you!" + +She heard the deep quiver in his voice, and it thrilled her from head to +foot. She began to sob, and he drew her towards him. + +"Wait!" she said, "Oh, wait! Come inside, and I'll tell you!" + +He went in with her, leaning on her shoulder. + +"Sit down!" whispered Molly. "I'm going to tell you something." + +"Don't cry!" he said gently. "It may be something I know already." + +"Oh, no, it isn't!" she said with conviction. + +She stood before him in the twilight, her hands clasped tightly +together. + +"Do you remember a girl called Mary Fielding?" she said, with a piteous +effort to control her voice. "She used to be the friend of--of--your +_fiancée_, Lady Maud Belville, long ago, before you had your accident." + +He nodded gravely. + +"I remember her," he said. + +"I don't suppose you ever noticed her much," the girl continued shakily. +"She was uninteresting, and always in the background." + +"I should know her anywhere," said Durant with confidence. + +"No, no," she protested. "I'm sure you wouldn't. You--you never gave her +a second thought, though she--was foolish enough--idiotic enough--to--to +care whether you did or not." + +"Was she?" he said softly. "Was she? And was that why she came to live +among the sand-dunes and cut off her hair and wore print +dresses--and--and made life taste sweet to me again?" + +"Ah! You know now!" she said, with a sound that was like laughter +through tears. + +He held out his arms to her. + +"My darling," he said. "I knew on the first day I saw you here." + +She knelt down beside him with a quick, impulsive movement. + +"You--knew!" she gasped incredulously. + +He smiled at her with great tenderness. + +"I knew," he said, "and I wondered--how I wondered--what you had come +for!" + +"I only came to be a friend," she broke in hastily, "to--to try to help +you through your bad time." + +"I guessed it must be that," he said softly over her bowed head, "when +you said 'No' to me yesterday." + +"But you didn't tell me you cared," protested Molly. + +"No," he said. "I was so horribly afraid that you might take me out of +pity, Molly." + +"And I--I wasn't going to be second fiddle!" said Molly waywardly. + +She resisted him a little as he turned her face upwards, but he had his +way. There was a quiver of laughter in his voice when he spoke again. + +"You could never be that," he said. "You were made to lead the +orchestra. Still, tell me why you did it, darling! Make me understand!" + +And Molly yielded at length with her arms about his neck. + +"I loved you!" she said passionately. "I loved you!" + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM + +PROLOGUE + + +It was growing very dark. The decks gleamed wet in the light of the +swinging lamps. The wind howled across the sea like a monster in +torment. It would be a fearful night. + +The man who stood clutching at the slanting deck rail was drenched from +head to foot, but, despite this fact, he had no thought of going below. +Reginald Carey had been for many voyages on many seas, but the +fascination of a storm in the bay attracted him irresistibly still. He +had no sympathy with the uneasy crowd in the saloons. He even exulted in +the wild tumult of wind and sea and blinding rain. He was as one +spellbound in the grip of the tempest. + +Curt and dry of speech, abrupt at times almost to rudeness, he was a man +of whom most people stood in awe, and with whom very few were on terms +of intimacy. Yet in the world of men he had made his mark. + +By camp-fires and on the march, in prison and in hospital, Carey the +journalist had become a byword for coolness and endurance. It was +Carey, caustic of humour, uncompromising of attitude, who sauntered +through a hail of bullets to fill a wounded man's water-tin; Carey who +pushed his way among stampeding mules to rescue sorely needed medical +stores; Carey who had limped beside footsore, jaded men, and whistled +them out of their depression. + +There were two fingers missing from Carey's left hand, and the limp had +become permanent when he sailed home from South Africa at the end of the +war, but he was the personal friend of half the army though there was +not a single man who could boast that he knew him thoroughly well. For +none knew exactly what this man, who scoffed so freely at disaster, +carried in his heart. + +As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel, gazing steadfastly into +the howling darkness, his face was as serene as if he sailed a summer +sea. The great waves that dashed their foam over him as he stood were +powerless to raise fear in his soul! He stood as one apart--a lonely +watcher whom no danger could appal. + +It was growing late, but he took no count of time. More than once he had +been hoarsely advised to go below, but he would not go. He believed +himself to be the only passenger on deck, and he clung to his solitude. +The bare thought of the stuffy saloon was abhorrent to him. He marvelled +that no one else had developed the same distaste. + +And with the thought he turned, breathless from the buffeting spray of a +mighty wave, to find a woman standing near him on the swirling deck. + +She stood poised lightly as a bird prepared for flight, her head bare, +her face upturned to the storm. Her hands were fast gripped upon the +rail, and the gleam of a gold ring caught Carey's eye. He saw that she +was unconscious of his presence. The shifting, uncertain light had not +revealed him. For a space he stood watching her, unperceived, wondering +at the courage that upheld her. Her hair had blown loose in the wind, +and lay in a black mass upon her neck. He could not see her features, +but her bearing was superb. + +And then at length, as if his quiet scrutiny had somehow touched in her +a responsive chord, she turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and +a curious thrill ran tingling through the man's veins. He had never seen +this woman before, but as she looked at him, with wonderful dark eyes +that seemed to hold a passionate exultation in their depths, he suddenly +felt as if he had known her all his life. They were comrades. It was no +hysterical panic that had driven her up from below. Like himself, she +had been drawn by the magic of the storm. + +Impulsively, almost involuntarily, he moved a pace towards her and +stretched out a hand along the dripping rail. + +She gave him her own instantly and confidently, responding to his +action with absolute simplicity. It was a gesture of sympathy, of +fellowship. She bore herself as a queen, but she did not condescend to +him. + +No words passed between them. Both realised the impossibility of speech +in that shrieking tempest. Moreover, there was no need for speech. +Earth's petty conventions had fallen away from them. They were as +children standing hand in hand on the edge of the unknown, hearing the +same thunderous music, bound by the same magic spell. + +Carey wondered later how long a time elapsed whilst they stood thus, +intently watching. It might have been for merely a few minutes, or it +might have been for the greater part of an hour. He never knew. + +The spell broke at length suddenly and terribly, with a grinding crash +that flung them both sideways upon the slippery deck. He went down, +still clinging instinctively to the rail, and the next instant, by its +aid, he was on his feet again, dragging his companion up with him. + +There followed a pause--a shuddering, expectant pause--while wind and +sea raged all around them like beasts of prey. And through it there came +the sound of the engine throbbing impotently spasmodically, like the +heart of a dying man. Quite suddenly it ceased, and there was a +frightful uproar of escaping steam. The deck on which they stood began +to tilt slowly upwards. + +Carey knew what had happened. They had struck a rock in that awful +darkness, and they were going down with frightful rapidity into the +seething, storm-tossed water. + +He had never been shipwrecked before, but, as by instinct, he realised +the madness of remaining where he was. A coil of rope lay almost at his +feet, and he stooped and seized it. There had come a brief lull in the +storm, but he knew that there was not a moment to spare. Still +supporting his companion, he began to bind the rope around them both. + +She looked up at him quickly, and he saw her lips move in protest. She +even set her hands against his breast, as if to resist him. But he +overcame her almost savagely. It was no moment for argument. + +The slope of the deck was becoming every instant more acute. The wind +was racing back across the sea. Above them--very far above them, it +seemed--there was a confusion of figures, but the tumult of wind and +waves drowned all other sound. Carey's feet began to slip on that awful +slant. They were sinking rapidly, rapidly. + +He knotted the rope and gathered himself together. An instant he hung on +the rail, breathing deeply. Then with a jerk he relaxed his grip and +leaped blindly into the howling darkness, hurling himself and the woman +with him far into the raging sea. + + * * * + +It was suffocatingly hot. Carey raised his arms with a desperate +movement. He felt as if he were swimming in hot vapour. And he had been +swimming for a long time, too. He was deadly tired. A light flashed in +his eyes, and very far above him--like an object viewed through the +small end of a telescope--he saw a face. Vaguely he heard a voice +speaking, but what it said was beyond his comprehension. It seemed to +utter unintelligible things. For a while he laboured to understand, then +the effort became too much for him. The light faded from his brain. + +Later--much later, it seemed--he awoke to full consciousness, to find +himself in a Breton fisherman's cottage, watched over by a kindly little +French doctor who tended him as though he had been his brother. + +"_Monsieur_ is better, but much better," he was cheerily assured. "And +for _madame_ his wife he need have no inquietude. She is safe and well, +and only concerns herself for _monsieur_." + +This was reassuring, and Carey accepted it without comment or inquiry. +He knew that there was a misunderstanding somewhere, but he was still +too exhausted to trouble himself about so slight a matter. He thanked +his kindly informant, and again he slept. + +Two days later his interest in life revived. He began to ask questions, +and received from the doctor a full account of what had occurred. + +He had been washed ashore, he was told--he and _madame_ his +wife--lashed fast together. The ship had been wrecked within half a mile +of the land. But the seas had been terrific. There had not been many +survivors. + +Carey digested the news in silence. He had had no friends on board, +having embarked only at Gibraltar. + +At length he looked up with a faint smile at his faithful attendant. +"And where is--_madame_?" he asked. + +The little doctor hesitated, and spread out his hands deprecatingly. + +"Oh, _monsieur_, I regret--I much regret--to have to inform you that she +is already departed for Paris. Her solicitude for you was great, was +pathetic. The first words she speak were: 'My husband, do not let him +know!' as though she feared that you would be distressed for her. And +then she recover quick, quick, and say that she must go--that _monsieur_ +when he know, will understand. And so she depart early in the morning of +yesterday while _monsieur_ is still asleep." + +He was watching Carey with obvious anxiety as he ended, but the +Englishman's face expressed nothing but a somewhat elaborate +indifference. + +"I see," he said, and relapsed into silence. + +He made no further reference to the matter, and the doctor discreetly +abstained from asking questions. He presently showed him an English +paper which contained the information that Mr. and Mrs. Carey were among +the rescued. + +"That," he remarked, "will alleviate the anxiety of your friends." + +To which Carey responded, with a curt laugh: "No one knew that we were +on board." + +He left for Paris on the following day, allowing the doctor to infer +that he was on his way to join his wife. + + +I + +It was growing dark in the empty class-room, but there was nothing left +to do, and the French mistress, sitting alone at her high desk, made no +move to turn on the light. All the lesson books were packed away out of +sight. There was not so much as a stray pencil trespassing upon that +desert of orderliness. Only the waste-paper basket, standing behind +_Mademoiselle_ Trèves's chair, gave evidence of the tempest of energy +that had preceded this empty calm in the midst of which she sat alone. +It was crammed to overflowing with torn exercise books, and all manner +of schoolgirls' rubbish, and now and then it creaked eerily in the +desolate silence as though at the touch of an invisible hand. + +It was very cold in the great room, for the fire had gone out long ago. +There was no one left to enjoy it except _mademoiselle_, who apparently +did not count. For most of the pupils had departed in the morning, and +those who were left were collected in the great hall speeding one after +another upon their homeward way. All day the wheels of cabs had crunched +the gravel below the class-room window, but they were not so audible +now, for the ground was thickly covered with snow, which had been +drearily falling throughout the afternoon. + +It lay piled upon the window-sill, casting a ghostly light into the +darkening room, vaguely outlining the slender figure that sat so still +before the high desk. + +Another cab-load of laughing girls was just passing out at the gate. +There could not be many left. The darkness increased, and _mademoiselle_ +drew a quick breath and shivered. She wished the departures were all +over. + +There came a light step in the passage, and a daring whistle, which +broke off short as a hand impetuously opened the class-room door. + +"Why, _mademoiselle!_" cried a fresh young voice. "Why, _chérie!_" Warm +arms encircled the lonely figure, and eager lips pressed the cold face. +"Oh, _chérie_, don't grizzle!" besought the newcomer. "Why, I've never +known you do such a thing before. Have you been here all this time? I've +been looking for you all over the place. I couldn't leave without one +more good-bye. And see here, _chérie_, you must--you must--come to my +birthday-party on New Year's Eve. If you won't come and stay with me, +which I do think you might, you must come down for that one night. It's +no distance, you know. And it's only a children's show. There won't be +any grown-ups except my cousin Reggie, who is the sweetest man in the +world, and Mummy's Admiral who comes next. Say you will, _chérie_, for I +shall be sixteen--just think of it!--and I do want you to be there. You +will, won't you? Come, promise!" + +It was hard to refuse this petitioner, so warmly fascinating was she. +_Mademoiselle_, who, it was well known, never accepted any invitations, +hesitated for the first time--and was lost. + +"If I came just for that one evening then, Gwen, you would not press me +to stay longer?" + +"Bless you, no!" declared Gwen. "I'll drive you to the station myself in +Mummy's car to catch the first train next morning, if you'll come. And +I'll make Reggie come too. You'll just love Reggie, _chérie_. He's my +exact ideal of what a man ought to be--the best friend I have, next to +you. Well, it's a bargain then, isn't it? You'll come and help dance +with the kids--you promise? That's my own sweet _chérie_! And now you +mustn't grizzle here in the dark any longer. I believe my cab is at the +door. Come down and see me off, won't you?" + +Yet again she was irresistible. They went out together, hand in hand, +happy child and lonely woman, and the door of the deserted class-room +banged with a desolate echoing behind them. + + +II + +It was ten days later, on a foggy evening, in the end of the year, that +Reginald Carey alighted at a small wayside station, and grimly prepared +himself for a five-mile trudge through dark and muddy lanes to his +destination. + +The only conveyance in the station yard was a private motor car, and his +first glance at this convinced him that it was not there to await him. +He paused under the lamp outside to turn up his collar, and, as he did +so, a man of gigantic breadth and stature, wearing goggles, came out of +the station behind him and strode past. He glanced at Carey casually as +he went by, looked again, then suddenly stopped and peered at him. + +"Great Scotland!" he exclaimed abruptly. "I know you--or ought to. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein. +Thought there was something familiar about you the moment I saw you. You +remember me, eh?" + +He turned back his goggles impetuously, and showed Carey his face. + +Yes; Carey remembered him very well indeed, though he was not sure that +the acquaintance was one he desired to improve. He took the proffered +hand with a certain reserve. + +"Yes; I remember you. I don't think I ever heard your name, but that's a +detail. You came out of it all right, then?" + +"Oh, yes; more or less. Nothing ever hurts me." The big man's laugh had +in it a touch of bitterness. "Where are you bound for? Come along with +me in the car; I'll take you where you want to go." He seized Carey by +the shoulder, impelling him with boisterous cordiality towards the +vehicle. "Jump in, my friend. My name is Coningsby--Major Coningsby, of +Crooklands Manor--mad Coningsby I'm called about here, because I happen +to ride straighter to hounds than most of 'em. A bit of a compliment, +eh? But they're a shocking set of muffs in these parts. You don't live +here?" + +"No; I am down on a visit to my cousin, Lady Emberdale. She lives at +Crooklands Mead. I've come down a day sooner than I was expected, and +the train was two hours late. I'm Reginald Carey." He stopped before the +step of the car. "It's very good of you, but I won't take you out of +your way on such a beastly night. I can quite well walk." + +"Nonsense, man! It's no distance, and it isn't out of the way. I've only +just motored down to get an evening paper. You're just in time to dine +with me. I'm all alone, and confoundedly glad to see you. I know Lady +Emberdale well. Come, jump in!" + +Thus urged, Carey yielded, not over-willingly, and took his seat in the +car. + +Directly they started, he knew the reason for his companion's pseudonym, +for they whizzed out of the yard at a speed which must have disquieted +the stoutest nerves. + +It was the maddest ride he had ever experienced, and he wondered by what +instinct Major Coningsby kept a straight course through the darkness. +Their own lamps provided the only light there was, and when they +presently turned sharply at right angles he gathered himself together +instinctively in preparation for a smash. + +But nothing happened. They tore on a little farther in darkness, +travelling along a private road; and then the lights of a house pierced +the gloom. + +Coningsby brought his car to a standstill. + +"Tumble out! The front door is straight ahead. My man will let you in +and look after you. Excuse me a moment while I take the car round!" + +He was gone with the words, leaving Carey to ascend a flight of steps to +the hall door. It opened at once to admit him, and he found himself in a +great hall dimly illumined by firelight. A servant helped him to divest +himself of his overcoat, and silently led the way. + +The room he entered was furnished as a library. He glanced round it as +he stood on the hearth-rug, awaiting his host, and was chiefly struck by +the general atmosphere of dreariness that pervaded it. Its sombre oak +furniture seemed to absorb instead of reflecting the light. There was a +large oil-painting above the fireplace, and after a few seconds he +turned his head and saw it. It was the portrait of a woman. + +Young, beautiful, queenly, the painted face looked down into his own, +and the man's heart gave a sudden, curious throb that was half rapture +and half pain. In a moment the room he had just entered, with all the +circumstances that had taken him there, was blotted from his brain. He +was standing once more on the rocking deck of a steamer, in a tempest of +wind and rain and furious sea, facing the storm, exultant, with a +woman's hand fast gripped in his. + +"Are you looking at that picture?" said a voice. "It's my wife--dead +now--lost--five years ago--at sea!" + +Carey wheeled sharply at the jerky utterance. Coningsby was standing by +his side. He was staring upwards at the portrait, a strange gleam +darting in his eyes--a gleam not wholly sane. + +"It doesn't do her justice," he went on in the same abrupt, headlong +fashion. "But it's better than nothing. She was the only woman who ever +satisfied me. Her loss damaged me badly. I've never been the same since. +There've been others, of course, but she was always first--an easy +first. I shall want her--I shall go on wanting her--till I'm in my +grave." His voice was suddenly husky, as the voice of a man in pain. +"It's like a fiery thirst," he said. "I try to quench it--Heaven knows I +try! But it comes back--it comes back." + +He swung round on his heel and went to the table. There followed the +clink of glasses, but Carey did not turn. His eyes had left the picture, +and were fixed, stern and unwinking, upon the fire that glowed at his +feet. + +Again he seemed to feel the clasp of a woman's hand, free and confiding, +within his own. Again his heart stirred responsively in the quick warmth +of a woman's perfect sympathy. + +And he knew that into his keeping had been given the secret of that +woman's existence. The five years' mystery was solved at last. He +understood, and, understanding, he kept silent faith with her. + + +III + +It was two hours later that Carey presented himself at his cousin's +house. He entered unobtrusively, as his manner was, knowing himself to +be a welcome guest. + +The first person to greet him was Gwen, who, accompanied by a college +youth of twenty, was roasting chestnuts in front of the hall fire. She +sprang up at the sound of his voice, and, flushed and eager, rushed to +meet him. + +"Why, Reggie, my dear old boy, who would have thought of seeing you +to-night? Come right in! Aren't you very cold? How did you get here? +Have you dined? This is Charlie Rivers, the Admiral's son. Charlie, you +have heard me speak of my cousin, Mr. Carey." + +Charlie had, several times over, and said so, with a grin, as he made +room for Carey in front of the blaze, taking care to keep himself next +to Gwen. + +Carey considerately fell in with the manoeuvre and, greetings over, they +huddled sociably together over the fire, and fell to discussing the +birthday party which was to be held on the morrow. + +Gwen was a curious blend of excitement and common sense. She had been +busily preparing all day for the coming festivity. + +"There's one visitor I want you both to be very good to," she said, "and +see that she takes plenty of refreshments, whether she wants them or +not." + +Young Rivers grimaced at Carey. + +"You can have my share of this unattractive female," he said generously. +"It's Gwen's schoolmistress, and I'll bet she's as heavy as a sack of +coals." + +"I can't dance. I'm lame," said Carey. "But I don't mind sitting out in +the refreshment room to please Gwen. How old is she, Gwen? About twice +my age?" + +Gwen did not stop to calculate. + +"Older than that, I should think. Her hair is quite grey, and she's very +sad and quiet. I am sure she has had a lot of trouble. Very likely she +won't want to dance either, so there will be a pair of you. Her name is +_Mademoiselle_ Trèves, but she is only half French, and speaks English +better than I do. She never goes anywhere, so I do want her to have a +good time. You will be kind to her, won't you? I'll introduce you to her +as early as possible. We are all going to wear masks till midnight." + +"Stupid things--masks," said Charlie very decidedly. "Don't like 'em." + +Gwen turned upon him. + +"It's much the fairest way. If we didn't wear them, the pretty girls +would get all the best dances." + +"Oh, well, you wouldn't be left out, anyway," he assured her. + +At which compliment Gwen sniffed contemptuously, and pointedly requested +Carey to give her a few minutes in strict privacy before they parted for +the night. + +He saw that she meant it; and when Charlie had reluctantly taken himself +off he went with his young cousin to her own little sitting-room +upstairs before seeking Lady Emberdale in the drawing-room. + +Gwen could scarcely wait till the door was closed before she began to +lay her troubles before him. + +"It's Mummy!" she told him very seriously. "You can't think how sick and +disgusted I am. Sit down, Reggie, and I'll tell you all about it! Being +Mummy's trustee, perhaps you will have some influence over her. I have +none. She thinks I'm prejudiced. And I'm not, Reggie. There's nothing to +make me so except that Charlie is a nice boy, and the Admiral a perfect +darling." + +She paused for breath, and Carey patiently waited for further +enlightenment. It came. + +"Of course," she said, seating herself on the arm of his chair, "I've +always known that Mummy would marry again some day or other. She's so +young and pretty; and I haven't minded the idea a bit. Poor, dear Dad +was always such a very, very old man! But I do want her to marry +someone nice now the time has come. All through the summer holidays I +felt sure it was going to be the Admiral, and I was so pleased about it. +Charlie and I used to make bets about its coming off before Christmas. +He was ever so pleased, too, and we'd settled to join together for the +wedding present so as to get something decent. It was all going to be so +jolly. And now," with a great sigh, "everything's spoilt. +There's--there's someone else." + +"Good heavens!" said Carey. "Who?" + +He had been suppressing a laugh during the greater part of Gwen's +confidence, but this last announcement startled him into sobriety. A +very faint misgiving stirred in his soul. What if--but no; it was +preposterous. He thrust it from him. + +Gwen slid a loving arm about his neck. + +"I like telling you things, Reggie. You always understand, and they +never worry me so much afterwards. For I am--horribly worried. Mummy met +him in the hunting field. He has come to live quite near us--oh, such a +brute he is, loud and coarse and bullying! He rode a horse to death only +a few weeks ago. They say he's mad, and I'm nearly sure he drinks as +well. And he and Mummy have chummed up. They are as thick as thieves, +and he's always coming to the house, dropping in at odd hours. The poor, +dear Admiral hasn't a chance. He's much too gentlemanly to elbow his way +in like--like this horrid Major Coningsby. Oh, Reggie, do you think you +can do anything to stop it? I don't want her to marry him, neither does +Charlie. My, Reggie, what's the matter? You don't know him, do you? You +don't know anything bad about him?" + +Carey was on his feet, pacing slowly to and fro. One hand--the maimed +left hand--was thrust away out of sight, as his habit was in a woman's +presence. The other was clenched hard at his side. + +He did not at once answer Gwen's agitated questioning. She sat and +watched him in some anxiety, wondering at the stern perplexity with +which he reviewed the problem. + +Suddenly he stopped in front of her. + +"Yes; I know the man," he said. "I knew him years ago in South Africa, +and I met him again to-night. I must think this matter over, and +consider it carefully. You are quite sure of what you say--quite sure he +is attracted by your mother?" + +Gwen nodded. + +"Oh, there's no doubt of that. He treats her already as if she were his +property. You won't tell her I told you, Reggie? It will simply +precipitate matters if you do." + +"No; I shan't tell her. I never argue with women." Carey spoke almost +savagely. He was staring at something that Gwen could not see. + +"Do you think you will be able to stop it?" she asked him, with a +slightly nervous hesitation. + +His eyes came back to her. He seemed to consider her for a moment. Then, +seeing that she was really troubled, he spoke with sudden kindliness: + +"I think so, yes. But never mind how! Leave it to me and put it out of +your head as much as possible! I quite agree with you that it is an +arrangement that wouldn't do at all. Why on earth couldn't your friend +the Admiral speak before?" + +"I wish he had," said Gwen, from her heart. "And I believe he does, too, +now. But men are so idiotic, Reggie. They always miss their +opportunities." + +"Think so?" said Carey. "Some men never have any, it seems to me." + +And he left her wondering at the bitterness of his speech. + + +IV + +The winter sunlight was streaming into Major Coningsby's gloomy library +when Carey again stood within it. The Major was out riding, he had been +told, but he was expected back ere long; and he had decided to wait for +him. + +And so he stood waiting before the portrait; and closely, critically, he +studied it by the morning light. + +It was the face which for five years now he had carried graven on his +heart. She was the one woman to him--the woman of his dream. Throughout +his wanderings he had cherished the memory of her--a secret and +priceless possession to which he clung day and night, waking and +sleeping. He had made no effort to find her during those years, but +silently, almost in spite of himself, he had kept her in his heart, had +called her to him in his dreams, yearning to her across the +ever-widening gulf, hungering dumbly for the voice he had never heard. + +He knew that he was no favourite with women. All his life his reserve +had been a barrier that none had ever sought to pass till this +woman--the woman who should have been his fate--had been drifted to him +through life's stress and tumult and had laid her hand with perfect +confidence in his. And now it was laid upon him to betray that +confidence. He no longer had the right to keep her secret. He had +protected her once, and it had been as a hidden, sacred bond invisibly +linking them together. But it could do so no longer. The time had come +to wrest that precious link apart. + +Sharply he turned from the picture. The dark eyes tortured him. They +seemed to be pleading with him, entreating him. There came a sudden +clatter without, the tramp of heavy feet, the jingle of spurs. The door +was flung noisily back, and Major Coningsby strode in. + +"Hullo! Very good of you to look me up so soon. Sorry I wasn't in to +receive you. Haven't you had a drink yet?" + +He tossed his riding-whip down upon the table, and busied himself with +the glasses. + +Carey drew near; his face was stern. + +"I have something to say to you," he said, "before we drink, if you have +no objection." + +His voice was quiet and very even, but Coningsby looked up with a quick +frown. + +"Confound you, Carey! What are you pulling a long face about this time +of the morning? Better have a drink; it'll make you feel more sociable." + +He spoke with sharp irritation. The hand that held the spirit-decanter +was not over-steady. Carey watched him--coldly critical. + +"That portrait over the mantelpiece," he said; "your wife, I think you +told me?" + +Coningsby swore a deep oath. + +"I may have told you so. I don't often mention the subject. She is +dead." + +"I beg your pardon; I am forced to mention it." Carey's tone was +deliberate, emotionless, hard. "That lady--the original of that +portrait--is still alive, to the best of my belief. At least, she was +not lost at sea on the occasion of the wreck of the _Denver Castle_ five +years ago." + +"What?" said Coningsby. He turned suddenly white--white to the lips, and +set down the decanter he was still holding as if he had been struck +powerless. "What?" he said again, with starting eyes upon Carey's face. + +"I think you understood me," Carey returned coldly. "I have told you +because, upon consideration, it seemed to me you ought to know." + +The thing was done and past recall, but deep in his heart there lurked a +savage resentment against this man who had forced him to break his +silence. He felt no sympathy with him; he only knew disgust. + +Coningsby moved suddenly with a frantic oath, and gripped him by the +shoulder. The blood was coming back to his face in livid patches; his +eyes were terrible. + +"Go on!" he said thickly. "Out with it! Tell me all you know!" + +He towered over Carey. There was violence in his grip, but Carey did +not seem to notice. He faced the giant with absolute composure. + +"I can tell you no more," he said. "I knew she was saved, because I was +saved with her. But she left Brittany while I was still too ill to +move." + +"You must know more than that!" shouted Coningsby, losing all control of +himself, and shaking his informant furiously by the shoulder. "If she +was saved, how did she come to be reported missing?" + +For a single instant Carey hesitated; then, with steady eyes upon the +bloated face above him, he made quiet reply: + +"Her name was among the missing by her own contrivance. Doubtless she +had her reasons." + +Coningsby's face suddenly changed: his eyes shone red. + +"You helped her!" he snarled, and lifted a clenched fist. + +Carey's maimed hand came quietly into view, and closed upon the man's +wrist. + +"It is not my custom," he coldly said, "to refuse help to a woman." + +"Confound you!" stormed Coningsby. "Where is she now? Where? Where?" + +There fell a sudden pause. Carey's eyes were like steel; his grasp never +slackened. + +"If I knew," he said deliberately, at length, "I should not tell you! +You are not fit for the society of any good woman." + +The words fell keen as a whip-lash, and as pitiless. Coningsby glared +into his face like a goaded bull; his look was murderous. And then by +some chance his eyes fell upon the hand that gripped his wrist. He +looked at it closely, attentively, for a few seconds, and finally set +Carey free. + +"You may thank that," he said more quietly, "for getting you out of the +hottest corner you were ever in. I didn't notice it yesterday, though I +remember now that you were wounded. So you parted with half your hand to +drag me out of that hell, did you? It was a rank, bad investment on your +part." + +He flung away abruptly, and helped himself to some brandy. A +considerable pause ensued before he spoke again. + +"Egad!" he said then, with a harsh laugh, "it's a deuced ingenious lie, +this of yours. I suppose you and that imp of mischief, Gwen, hatched it +up between you? I saw she had got her thinking-cap on yesterday. I am +not considered good enough for her lady mother. But, mark you, I'm going +to have her for all that! It isn't good for man to live alone, and I +have taken a fancy to Evelyn Emberdale." + +"You don't believe me?" Carey asked. + +Somehow, though he had been prepared for bluster and even violence, he +had not expected incredulity. + +Coningsby filled and emptied his glass a second time before he answered. + +"No," he said then, with sudden savagery: "I don't believe you! You had +better get out of my house at once, or--I warn you--I may break every +bone in your blackguardly body yet!" He turned on Carey, leaping madness +in his eyes. + +But Carey stood like a rock. "You know the truth," he said quietly. + +Coningsby broke into another wild laugh, and pointed up at the picture +above his head. + +"I shall know it," he declared, "when the sea gives up its dead. Till +that day I am free to console myself in my own way, and no one shall +stop me." + +"You are not free," Carey said. Very steadily he faced the man, very +distinctly he spoke. "And, however you console yourself, it will not be +with my cousin Lady Emberdale." + +Coningsby turned back to the table to fill his glass again. He spilt the +spirit over the cloth as he did it. + +"Man alive," he gibed, "do you think she will believe you if I don't?" + +It was the weak point of his position, and Carey realised it. It was +more than probable that Lady Emberdale would take Coningsby's view of +the matter. If the man really attracted her it was almost a foregone +conclusion. He knew Gwen's mother well--her inconsequent whims, her +obstinacy. + +Yet, even in face of this check, he stood his ground. + +"I may find some means of proving what I have told you," he said, with +unswerving resolution. + +Coningsby drained his glass for the third time, and, with a menacing +sweep of the hand, seized his riding-whip. + +"I don't advise you to come here with your proofs," he snarled. "The +only proof I would look at is the woman herself. Now, sir, I have warned +you fairly. Are you going?" + +His attitude was openly threatening, but Carey's eyes were piercingly +upon him, and, in spite of himself, he paused. So for the passage of +seconds they stood; then slowly Carey turned away. + +"I am going," he said, "to find your wife." + +He did not glance again at the picture as he passed from the room. He +could not bring himself to meet the dark eyes that followed him. + + +V + +Yes; he would find her. But how? There was only one course open to him, +and he shrank from that with disgust unutterable. It was useless to +think of advertising. He was convinced that she would never answer an +advertisement. + +The only way to find her was to employ a detective to track her down. He +clenched his hands in impotent revolt. Not only had it been laid upon +him to betray her confidence, but he must follow this up by dragging her +from her hiding-place, and returning her to the bitter bondage from +which he had once helped her to escape. + +That she still lived he was inwardly convinced. He would have given all +he had to have known her dead. + +But, for that day, at least, there was no more to be done, and Gwen must +not have her birthday spoilt by the knowledge of his failure. He decided +to keep out of her way till the evening. + +When he entered the ball-room at the appointed time she pounced upon him +eagerly, but her young guests were nearly all assembled, and it was no +moment for private conversation. + +"Oh, Reggie! There you are! How dreadful you look in a mask! This is my +cousin, _mademoiselle_," turning to a lady in black who accompanied her. +"I've been wanting to introduce him to you. Don't forget that the masks +are not to come off till midnight. We're going to boom the big gong when +the clock strikes twelve." + +She flitted away in her shimmering fairy's dress, closely attended by +Charlie Rivers, to persuade his father to give her a dance. The room was +crowded with masked guests, Lady Emberdale, handsome and brilliant, and +Admiral Rivers, her bluff but faithful admirer, being the only +exceptions to the rule of the evening. + +Carey found himself standing apart with Gwen's particular _protégée_, +and he realised at once that he could expect no help from Charlie in +this quarter. For, though slim and graceful, _Mademoiselle_ Trèves's +general appearance was undeniably sombre and elderly. The hair that she +wore coiled regally upon her head was silver-grey, and there was a +certain weariness about the mouth that, though it did not rob it of its +sweetness, deprived it of all suggestion of youth. + +"I don't know if I am justified in asking for a dance," Carey said. "My +own dancing days are over." + +She smiled at him, and instantly the weariness vanished. There was magic +in her smile. + +"I am no dancer either, except with the little ones. If you care to sit +out with me, I shall be very pleased." + +Her voice was low and musical. It caught his fancy so that he was aware +of a sudden curiosity to see the face that the black mask concealed. + +"Give me the twelve-o'clock dance," he said, "if you can spare it!" + +She consulted the programme that hung from her wrist. He bent over it as +she held it, and scrawled his initials against the dance in question. + +"Perhaps I shall not stay for that one," she said, with slight +hesitation. + +He glanced up at her. + +"I thought you were here for the night." + +She bent her head. + +"But I may slip away before twelve for all that." + +Carey smiled. + +"I don't think you will, not anyhow if I have a voice in the matter. I +am Gwen's lieutenant, you know, specially enrolled to prevent any +deserting. There is a heavy penalty for desertion." + +"What is it?" + +Carey bent again over the programme. + +"Deserters will be brought back ignominiously and made to dance with +everyone in the room in turn." + +He glanced up again at the sound of her low laugh. There was something +elusively suggestive about her personality. + +"May I have another?" he said. "I hope you don't mind holding the card +for me." + +"You have hurt your hand?" she asked. + +It was thrust away, as usual, in his pocket. + +"Some years ago," he told her. "I don't use it more than I can help." + +"How disagreeable for you!" she murmured. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am used to it. It is worse for others than it is for me. May I have +No. 9? It includes the supper interval. Thanks! And any more you can +spare. I'm only lounging about and seeing that the kids enjoy +themselves. I shall be delighted to sit out with you when you are tired +of dancing." + +"You are very kind," she said. + +He made her an abrupt bow. + +"Then I hope you won't snub my efforts by deserting?" + +She laughed again. + +"No, lieutenant, I will not desert. I am going to help you." + +She spoke with a winning and impulsive graciousness that stirred again +within him that curious sense of groping in the dark among objects +familiar but unrecognisable. Surely he had met this stranger somewhere +before--in a crowded thoroughfare, in a train, possibly in a theatre, or +even in a church! + +She looked at him questioningly as he lingered, and with another bow he +turned and left her. Doubtless, when he saw her face he would remember, +or realise that he had been mistaken. + + +VI + +Mademoiselle Trèves kept her word, and wherever the fun was at its +height she was invariably the centre of it. The shy children crowded +about her. She seemed to possess a special charm for them. + +Gwen was delighted, and was obviously enjoying herself to the utmost. In +the absence of her _bête noire_ whom she had courageously omitted to +invite, she rejoiced to see that her mother was being unusually gracious +to her beloved Admiral, who was as merry as a schoolboy in consequence. + +She was shrewdly aware, however, that the welcome change was but +temporary. Incomprehensible though it was to Gwen, she knew that Major +Coningsby's power over her gay and frivolous young mother was absolute. +He ruled her with a rod of iron, and Lady Emberdale actually enjoyed his +tyranny. The rough court he paid her served to turn her head completely, +and she never attempted to resist his influence. + +It was all very distasteful to Gwen, who hated the man with the whole +force of her nature. She was thankful to feel that Carey was enlisted on +her side. She looked upon him as a tower of strength, and, forebodings +notwithstanding, she was able to throw herself heart and soul into the +evening's festivities, and to beam delightedly upon her cousin as she +walked behind him with Charlie to the supper room. + +Carey was escorting the French governess. He found a comfortable corner +for her in the thronged room at a table laid for two. + +"I am bearing in mind your promise to stand by till twelve o'clock," he +said. "It's the only thing that keeps me going, for I have a powerful +longing to remove my mask in defiance of orders. It feels like a porous +plaster. I shall only hold out till midnight with your gallant +assistance." + +He stooped with the words to pick up her fan which she had dropped. He +was obliged to use his left hand, and he knew that she gave a quick +start at sight of it. But she spoke instantly and he admired her ready +self-control. + +"It was rather a rash promise, I am afraid." + +Her voice sounded half shy and wholly sweet, and again he was caught by +that elusive quality about her that had puzzled him before. It was +stronger than ever, so strong that he felt for a moment on the verge of +discovery. But yet again it baffled him, making him all the more +determined to pursue it to its source. + +"You're not going to cry off?" he said, with a smile. + +He saw her flush behind her mask. + +"Only with your permission," she answered. + +He heard the note of pleading in her voice, but he would not notice it. + +"Oh, I can't let you off!" he said lightly. "Gwen would never forgive +me. Besides, I don't want to." + +She said no more, probably realising that he meant to have his way. They +talked upon indifferent topics in the midst of the general buzz of +merriment till, supper over, they separated. + +"I shall come for that midnight dance," were Carey's last words, as he +bowed and left her. + +And during the hour that intervened he kept a sharp eye upon her, lest +her evident reluctance to remain should prove too much for her +integrity. He was half amused at his own tenacity in the matter. Not for +years had a chance acquaintance so excited his curiosity. + +A few minutes before midnight he was standing before her. The last dance +of the evening had just begun. Gwen had decreed that everyone should +stop upon the stroke of twelve, while every mask was removed, after +which the dance was to be continued to the finish. + +"Shall we go upstairs?" suggested Carey. + +To his surprise he felt that the hand she laid upon his arm was +trembling. + +"By all means," she answered. "Let us get away from the crowd!" + +It was an unexpected request, but he showed no surprise. He piloted her +to a secluded spot in the upper regions, and they sat down on a lounge +at the end of a corridor. + +A queer sense of uneasiness had begun to oppress Carey, as strong as it +was inexplicable. He made a resolute effort to ignore it. The music +downstairs was sinking away. He took out his watch. + +"The dramatic moment approaches," he remarked, after a pause. "Are you +ready?" + +She did not speak. + +"I'll tell you why I want to see you unmask," he said, speaking very +quietly. "It is because there is something about you that reminds me of +someone I know, but the resemblance is so subtle that it has eluded me +all the evening." + +"You do not know me," she said. And he felt that she spoke with an +effort. + +"I am not so sure," he answered. "But in any case--" + +He paused. The music had ceased altogether, and an expectant silence +prevailed. He looked at her intently as he waited, till aware that she +shrank from his scrutiny. + +A long deep note boomed through the house, echoing weirdly through the +intense silence. Carey put up his hand without speaking, and stripped +off his mask. He crumpled it into a ball as the second note struck, and +looked at her. She had not moved. He waited silently. + +At the sixth note she made a sudden, almost passionate gesture and rose. +Carey remained motionless, watching her. Swiftly she turned, and began +to walk away from him. He leaned forward. His eyes were fixed upon her. + +Three more strokes! She stopped abruptly, turning back as if he had +spoken. Moving slowly, and still masked, she came back to him. He met +her under a lamp. His face was very pale, but his eyes were steady and +piercingly keen. He took her hand, bending over it till his lips touched +her glove. + +"I know you now," he said, his voice very low. + +Three more strokes, and silence. + +A ripple of laughter suddenly ran through the house, a gay voice called +for three cheers, and as though a spell had been lifted the merriment +burst out afresh in tune to the lilting dance-music. + +Carey straightened himself slowly, still holding the slender hand in +his. Her mask had gone at last, and he stood face to face with the woman +of his dream--the woman whose hard-won security he had only that morning +pledged himself to shatter. + + +VII + +"You know me," she said. + +"Yes; I know you. And I know your secret, too." + +The words sounded stern. He was putting strong restraint upon himself. + +She faced him without flinching, her look as steady as his own. And yet +again it was to Carey as though he stood in the presence of a queen. She +did not say a word. + +"Will you believe me," he said slowly, "when I tell you that I would +give all I have not to know it?" + +She raised her beautiful brows for a moment, but still she said nothing. + +He let her hand go. "I was on the point of searching to the world's end +for you," he said. "But since I have found you here of all places, I am +bound to take advantage of it. Forgive me, if you can!" + +He saw a gleam of apprehension in her eyes. + +"What is it you want to say to me?" she asked. + +He passed the question by. + +"You know me, I suppose?" + +She bent her head. + +"I fancied it was you from the first. When I saw your hand at supper, I +knew." + +"And you tried to avoid me?" + +"When you have something to conceal, it is wise to avoid anyone +connected with it." + +She answered him very quietly, but he knew instinctively that she was +fighting him with her whole strength. It was almost more than he could +bear. + +"Believe me," he said, "I am not a man to wantonly betray a woman's +secret. I have kept yours faithfully for years. But when within the last +few days I came to know who you were, and that your husband, Major +Coningsby, was contemplating making a second marriage, I was in honour +bound to speak." + +"You told him?" She raised her eyes for a single instant, and he read in +them a reproach unutterable. + +His heart smote him. What had she endured, this woman, before taking +that final step to cut herself off from the man whose name she had +borne? But he would not yield an inch. He was goaded by pitiless +necessity. + +"I told him," he answered. "But I had no means of proving what I said. +And he refused to believe me." + +"And now?" she almost whispered. + +He heard the note of tragedy in the words, and he braced himself to meet +her most desperate resistance. + +"Before I go further," he said, "let me tell you this! Slight though you +may consider our acquaintance to be, I have always felt--I have always +known--that you are a good woman." + +She made a quick gesture of protest. + +"Would a good woman have left the man who saved her life lying ill in a +strange land while she escaped with her miserable freedom?" + +He answered her without hesitation, as he had long ago answered himself. + +"No doubt the need was great." + +She turned away from him and sat down, bowing her head upon her hand. + +"It was," she said, her voice very low. "I was nearly mad with trouble. +You had pity then--without knowing. Have you--no pity--now?" + +The appeal went out into silence. Carey neither spoke nor moved. His +face was like a stone mask--the face of a strong man in torture. + +After a pause of seconds she spoke again, her face hidden from him. + +"The first Mrs. Coningsby is dead," she said. "Let it be so! Nothing +will ever bring her back. Geoffrey Coningsby is free to marry--whom he +will." + +The words were scarcely more than a whisper, but they reached and +pierced him to the heart. He drew a step nearer to her, and spoke with +sudden vehemence. + +"I would help you, Heaven knows, if I could! But you will see--you must +see presently--that I have no choice. There is only one thing to be +done, and it has fallen to me to see it through, though it would be +easier for me to die!" + +He broke off. There was strangled passion in his voice. Abruptly he +turned his back upon her, and began to pace up and down. Again there +fell a long pause. The music and the tramp of dancing feet below rose up +in his ears like a shout of mockery. He was fighting the hardest battle +of his life, fighting single-handed and grievously wounded for a victory +that would cripple him for the rest of his days. + +Suddenly he stood still and looked at her, though she had not moved, +unless her head with its silvery hair were bowed a little lower than +before. For a single instant he hesitated, then strode impulsively to +her, and knelt down by her side. + +"God help us both!" he said hoarsely. + +His hands were on her shoulders. He drew her to him, taking the bowed +head upon his breast. And so, silently, he held her. When she looked up +at last, he knew that the bitter triumph was his. Her face was deathly, +but her eyes were steadfast. She drew herself very gently out of his +hold. + +"I do not think," she said, "that there is anyone else in the world who +could have done for me what you have done tonight." She paused a moment +looking straight into his eyes, then laid her hands in his without a +quiver. "Years ago," she said, "you saved my life. Tonight--you have +saved something infinitely more precious than that. And I--I am +grateful to you. I will do--whatever you think right." + +It was a free surrender, but it wrung his heart to accept it. Even in +that moment of tragedy there was to him something of that sublime +courage with which she had faced the tumult of a stormy sea with him +five years before. And very poignantly it came home to him that he was +there to destroy and not to deliver. Like a wave of evil, it rushed upon +him, overwhelming him. + +He could not trust himself to speak. The wild words that ran in his +brain were such as he could not utter. And so he only bent his head once +more over the hands that lay so trustingly in his, and with great +reverence he kissed them. + + +VIII + +It was on a cold, dark evening two days later that Major Coningsby +returned from the first run of the year, and tramped, mud-splashed and +stiff from hard riding, into his gloomy house. A gust of rain blew +swirling after him, and he turned, swearing, and shut the great door +with a bang. It had not been a good day for sport. The ground had been +sodden, and the scent had washed away. He had followed the hounds for +miles to no purpose and had galloped home at last in sheer disgust. To +add to his grievances he had called upon Lady Emberdale on his way back, +and had not found her in. "Gone to tea with her precious Admiral, I +suppose!" he had growled, as he rode away, which, as it chanced, was the +case. The suspicion had not improved his mood, and he was very much out +of humour when he finally reached his own domain. Striding into the +library, he turned on the threshold to curse his servant for not having +lighted the lamp, and the man hastened forward nervously to repair the +omission. This accomplished, he as hastily retired, glancing furtively +over his shoulder as he made his escape. + +Coningsby tramped to the hearth, and stood there, beating his leg +irritably with his riding-whip. There was a heavy frown on his face. He +did not once raise his eyes to the picture above him. He was still +thinking of Lady Emberdale and the Admiral. Finally, with a sudden idea +of refreshing himself, he wheeled towards the table. The next instant, +he stood and stared as if transfixed. + +A woman dressed in black, and thickly veiled, was standing facing him +under the lamp. + +He gazed at her speechlessly for a second or two, then passed his hand +across his eyes. + +"Great heavens!" he said slowly, at last. + +She made a quick movement of the hands that was like a gesture of +shrinking. + +"You don't know me?" she asked, in a voice so low as to be barely +audible. + +For a moment there flashed into his face the curious, listening look +that is seen on the faces of the blind. Then violently he strode +forward. + +"I should know that voice in ten thousand!" he cried, his words sharp +and quivering. "Take off your veil, woman! Show me your face!" + +The hunger in his eyes was terrible to see. He looked like a dying man +reaching out impotent hands for some priceless elixir of life. + +"Your face!" he gasped again hoarsely, brokenly. "Show me your face!" + +Mutely she obeyed him, removed hat and veil with fingers that never +faltered, and turned her sad, calm face towards him. For seconds longer +he stared at her, stared devouringly, fiercely, with the eyes of a +madman. Then, suddenly, with a great cry, he stumbled forward, flinging +himself upon his knees at the table, with his face hidden on his arms. + +"Oh, I know you! I know you!" he sobbed. "You've tortured me like this +before. You've made me think I had only to open my arms to you, and I +should have you close against my heart. It's happened night after night, +night after night! Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!" + +His voice choked, and he became intensely still crouching there before +her in an anguish too great for words. + +For a long time she was motionless too, but at last, as he did not move, +she came a step toward him, pity and repugnance struggling visibly for +the mastery over her. Reluctantly she stooped and touched his shoulder. + +"Geoffrey!" she said, "it is I, myself, this time." + +He started at her touch but did not lift his head. + +She waited, and presently he began to recover himself. At last he +blundered heavily to his feet. + +"It's true, is it?" he said, peering at her uncertainly. "You're +here--in the flesh? You've been having just a ghastly sort of game with +me all these years, have you? Hang it, I didn't deserve quite that! And +so the little newspaper chap spoke the truth, after all." + +He paused; then suddenly flung out his arms to her as he stood. + +"Naomi!" he cried, "come to me, my girl! Don't be afraid. I swear I'll +be good to you, and I'm a man that keeps his oath! Come to me, I say!" + +But she held back from him, her face still white and calm. + +"No, Geoffrey," she said very firmly, "I haven't come back to you for +that. When I left you, I left you for good. And you know why. I never +meant to see your face again. You had made my life with you impossible. +I have only come to-day as--as a matter of principle, because I heard +you were going to marry again." + +The man's arms fell slowly. + +"You were always rather great on principle," he said, in an odd tone. + +He was not angry--that she saw. But the sudden dying away of the +eagerness on his face made him look old and different. This was not the +man whose hurricanes of violence had once overwhelmed her, whose +unrestrained passions had finally driven her from him to take refuge in +a lie. + +"I should not have come," she said, speaking with less assurance, "if it +had not been to prevent a wrong being done to another woman." + +His expression did not change. + +"I see," he said quietly. "Who sent you? Carey?" + +She flushed uncontrollably at the question, though there was no offence +in the tone in which it was uttered. + +"Yes," she answered, after a moment. + +Coningsby turned slowly and looked into the fire. + +"And how did he persuade you?" he asked. "Did he tell you I was going +blind?" + +"No!" There was apprehension as well as surprise in her voice; and he +jerked his head up as though listening to it. + +"Ah, well!" he said. "It doesn't much matter. There is a remedy for all +this world's evils. No doubt I shall take it sooner or later. So you're +going again are you? I'm not to touch you; not to kiss your hand? You +won't have me as husband, slave, or dog! Egad!" He laughed out harshly. +"I used not to be so humble. If you were queen, I was king, and I made +you know it. There! Go! You have done what you came to do, and more +also. Go quickly, before I see your face again! I'm only mortal still, +and there are some things that mortals can't endure--even strong +men--even giants. So--good-bye!" + +He stopped abruptly. He was gripping the high mantelpiece with both +hands. Every bone of them stood out distinctly, and the veins shone +purple in the lamplight. His head was bowed forward upon his chest. He +was fighting fiercely with that demon of unfettered violence to which he +had yielded such complete allegiance all his life. + +Minutes passed. He dared not turn his head to look but he knew that she +had not gone. He waited dumbly, still forcing back the evil impulse +that tore at his heart. But the tension became at last intolerable, and +slowly, still gripping himself with all his waning strength, he stood up +and turned. + +She was standing close to him. The repugnance had all gone out of her +face. It held only the tenderness of a great compassion. + +As he stared at her dumbfounded, she held out her hands to him. + +"Geoffrey," she said, "if you wish it, I will come back to you." + +He stared at her, still wide-eyed and mute, as though a spell were upon +him. + +"Won't you have me, Geoffrey?" she said, a faint quiver in her voice. + +He seized her hands then, seized them, and drew her to him, bowing his +head down upon her shoulder with a great sob. + +"Naomi, Naomi," he whispered huskily, "I will be good to you, my +darling--so help me, God!" + +Her own eyes were full of tears. She yielded herself to him without a +word. + + +IX + +"Can I come in a moment, Reggie?" + +Gwen's bright face peered round the door at him as he sat at the +writing-table in his room, with his head upon his hand. He looked up at +her. + +"Yes, come in, child! What is it?" + +She entered eagerly and went to him. + +"Are you busy, dear old boy? It is horrid that you should be going away +so soon. I only wanted just to tell you something that the dear old +Admiral has just told me." + +She sat down in her favourite position on the arm of his chair, her arm +about his neck. Her eyes were shining. Carey looked up at her. + +"Well?" he said. "Has he plucked up courage at last to ask for what he +wants?" + +"Yes; he actually has." There was a purr of content in Gwen's voice. +"And it's quite all right, Reggie. Mummy has said 'yes,' as I knew she +would, directly I told her about Major Coningsby finding his wife again. +All she said to that was: 'Dear me! How annoying for poor Major +Coningsby!' I thought it was horrid of her to say that, but I didn't say +so, for I wanted it all to come quite casually. And after that I wrote +to Charlie, and he told the Admiral. And he came straight over only +this morning and asked her. He's been telling me all about it, and he's +so awfully happy! He says he was a big fool not to ask her long ago in +the summer. For what do you think she said, Reggie, when he told her +that he'd been wanting to marry her for ever so long, but couldn't be +quite sure how she felt about it? Why, she said, with that funny little +laugh of hers--you know her way--'My dear Admiral, I was only waiting +to be asked.' The dear old man nearly cried when he told me. And I +kissed him. And he and Charlie are coming over to dine this evening. So +we can all be happy together." + +Gwen paused to breathe, and to give her cousin an ardent hug. + +"You've been a perfect dear about it," she ended with enthusiasm. "It +would never have happened but for you, and--and Mademoiselle Trèves. Do +you think she hated going back to that man very badly?" + +"I think she did," said Carey. + +He was looking, not at Gwen, but straight at the window in front of him. +There were deep lines about his eyes, as if he had not slept of late. + +"But she needn't have stayed," urged Gwen. + +He did not answer. In his pocket there lay a slip of paper containing a +few brief lines in a woman's hand. + +"I have taken up my burden again, and, God helping me, I will carry it +now to the end. You know what it means to me, but I shall always thank +you in my heart, because in the hour of my utter weakness you were +strong.--NAOMI CONINGSBY." + +The splendid courage that underlay those few words had not hidden from +the man the cost of her sacrifice. She had gone voluntarily back into +the bondage that once had crushed her to the earth. And he--and he +only--knew what it meant to her. + +He was brought back to his surroundings by the pressure of Gwen's arm. +He turned and found her looking closely into his face. + +"Reggie," she said, with a touch of shyness, "are you--unhappy--about +something?" He did not answer her at once, and she slipped suddenly down +upon her knees by his side. "Forgive me, dear old boy! Do you know, I +couldn't help guessing a little? You're not vexed?" + +He laid a silencing hand upon her shoulder. + +"I don't mind your knowing, dear," he said gently. + +And he stooped, and kissed her forehead. She clung to him closely for a +second. When she rose, her eyes were wet. But, obedient to his unspoken +desire, she did not say another word. + +When she was gone Carey roused himself from his preoccupation, and +concentrated his thoughts upon his correspondence. He was leaving +England in two days, and travelling to the East on a solitary shooting +expedition. He did not review the prospect with much relish, but +inaction had become intolerable to him, and he had an intense longing +to get away. He had arranged to return to town that afternoon. + +It was towards luncheon-time that he left his room, and, descending, +came upon Lady Emberdale in the hall. She turned to meet him, a slight +flush upon her face. + +"No doubt Gwen has told you our piece of news?" she said. + +He held out his hand. + +"It is official, is it? I am very glad. I wish you joy with all my +heart." + +She accepted his congratulations with a gracious smile. + +"I think everyone is pleased, including those absurd children. By the +way, here is a note just come for you, brought by a groom from +Crooklands Manor. I was going to bring it up to you, as he is waiting +for an answer." + +He took it up and opened it hastily, with a murmured excuse. When he +looked up, Lady Emberdale saw at once that there was something wrong. +She began to question him, but he held the note out to her with a quick +gesture, and she took it from him. + + "My husband met with an accident while motoring this morning," + she read. "He has been brought home, terribly injured, and + keeps asking for you. Can you come? + + "N. CONINGSBY." + +Glancing up, she saw Carey, pale and stern, waiting to speak. + +"Send back word, 'Yes, at once,'" he said. "And perhaps you can spare me +the car?" + +He turned away without waiting for her reply, and went back to his room, +crushing the note unconsciously in his hand. + + +X + +"And the sea--gave up--the dead--that were in it." Haltingly the words +fell through the silence. There was a certain monotony about them, as if +they had been often repeated. The speaker turned his head from side to +side upon the pillow uneasily, as if conscious of restraint, then spoke +again in the tone of one newly awakened. "Why doesn't that fellow come?" +he demanded restlessly. "Did you tell him I couldn't wait?" + +"He is coming," a quiet voice answered at his side. "He will soon be +here." + +He moved his head again at the words, seeming to listen intently. + +"Ah, Naomi, my girl," he said, "you've turned up trumps at last. It +won't have been such a desperate sacrifice after all, eh, dear? It's +wonderful how things get squared. Is that the doctor there? I can't see +very well." + +The doctor bent over him. + +"Are you wanting anything?" + +"Nothing--nothing, except that fellow Carey. Why in thunder doesn't he +come? No; there's nothing you can do. I'm pegging out. My time is up. +You can't put back the clock. I wouldn't let you if you could--not as +things are. I have been a blackguard in my time, but I'll take my last +hedge straight. I'll die like a man." + +Again he turned his head, seeming to listen. + +"I thought I heard something. Did someone open the door? It's getting +very dark." + +Yes; the door had opened, but only the dying brain had caught the sound. +As Carey came noiselessly forward only the dying man greeted him. + +"Ah, here you are! Come quite close to me! I want to see you, if I can. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein?" + +"Yes," Carey said. + +He sat down by Coningsby's side, facing the light. + +"I was told you wanted me," he said. + +"Yes; I want you to give me a promise." Coningsby spoke rapidly, with +brows drawn together. "I suppose you know I'm a dead man?" + +"I don't believe in death," Carey answered very quietly. + +Coningsby's eyes burned with a strange light. + +"Nor I," he said. "Nor I. I've been too near it before now to be afraid. +Also, I've lived too long and too hard to care overmuch for what is +left. But there's one thing I mean to do before I go. And you'll give me +your promise to see it through?" + +He paused, breathing quick and short; then went on hurriedly, as a man +whose time is limited. + +"You'll stick to it, I know, for you're a fellow that speaks the truth. +I nearly thrashed you for it, once. Remember? You said I wasn't fit for +the society of any good woman. And you were right--quite right. I never +have been. Yet you ended by sending me the best woman in the world. What +made you do that, I wonder?" + +Carey did not answer. His face was sternly composed. He had not once +glanced at the woman who sat on the other side of Coningsby's bed. + +Coningsby went on unheeding. + +"I drove her away from me, and you--you sent her back. I don't think I +could have done that for the woman I loved. For you do love her, eh, +Carey? I remember seeing it in your face that first night I brought you +here. It comes back to me. You were standing before her portrait in the +library. You didn't know I saw you. I was drunk at the time. But I've +remembered it since." + +Again he paused. His breath was slowing down. It came spasmodically, +with long silences between. + +Carey had listened with his eyes fixed and hard, staring straight before +him, but now slowly at length he turned his head, and looked down at the +man who was dying. + +"Hadn't you better tell me what it is you want me to do?" he said. + +"Ah!" Coningsby seemed to rouse himself. "It isn't much, after all," he +said. "I made my will only this morning. It was on my way back that I +had the smash. I was quite sober, only I couldn't see very well, and I +lost control. All my property goes to my wife. That's all settled. But +there's one thing left--one thing left--which I am going to leave you. +It's the only thing I value, but there's no nobility about it, for I +can't take it with me where I'm going. I want you, Carey--when I'm +dead--to marry the woman you love, and give her happiness. Don't wait +for the sake of decency! That consideration never appealed to me. I say +it in her presence, that she may know it is my wish. Marry her, man--you +love each other--did you think I didn't know? And take her away to some +Utopia of your own, and--and--teach her--to forget me." + +His voice shook and ceased. His wife had slipped to her knees by the +bed, hiding her face. Carey sat mute and motionless, but the grim look +had passed from his face. It was almost tender. + +Gaspingly at length Coningsby spoke again: "Are you going to do it, +Carey? Are you going to give me your promise? I shall sleep the easier +for it." + +Carey turned to him and gripped one of the man's powerless hands in his +own. For a moment he did not speak--it almost seemed he could not. Then +at last, very low, but resolute his answer came: + +"I promise to do my part," he said. + +In the silence that followed he rose noiselessly and moved away. + +He left Naomi still kneeling beside the bed, and as he passed out he +heard the dying man speak her name. But what passed between them he +never knew. + +When he saw her again, nearly an hour later, Geoffrey Coningsby was +dead. + + +XI + +It was on a day of frosty sunshine, nearly a fortnight later, that Carey +dismounted before the door of Crooklands Manor, and asked for its +mistress. + +He was shown at once into the library, where he found her seated before +a great oak bureau with a litter of papers all around her. + +She flushed deeply as she rose to greet him. They had not met since the +day of her husband's funeral. + +"I see you're busy," he said, as he came forward. + +"Yes," she assented. "Such stacks of papers that must be examined before +they can be destroyed. It's dreary work, and I have been very thankful +to have Gwen with me. She has just gone out riding." + +"I met her," Carey said. "She was with young Rivers." + +"It is a farewell ride," Naomi told him. "She goes back to school +to-morrow. Dear child! I shall miss her. Please sit down!" + +The colour had ebbed from her face, leaving it very pale. She did not +look at Carey, but began slowly to sort afresh a pile of +correspondence. + +He ignored her request, and stood watching her till at last she laid the +packet down. + +Then somewhat abruptly he spoke: "I've just come in to tell you my +plans." + +"Yes?" She took up an old cheque-book, as if she could not bear to be +idle, and began to look through it, seeming to search for something. + +Again he fell silent, watching her. + +"Yes?" she repeated after a moment, bending a little over the book she +held. + +"They are very simple," he said quietly. "I'm going to a place I know of +in the Himalayas where there is a wonderful river that one can punt +along all day and all night, and never come to an end." + +Again he paused. The fingers that held the memorandum were not quite +steady. + +"And you have come to say good-bye?" she suggested in her deep, sad +voice. + +His eyes were turned gravely upon her, but there was a faint smile at +the corners of his mouth. + +"No," he said in his abrupt fashion. "That isn't in the plan. Good-bye +to the rest of the world if you will, but never again to you!" + +He drew close to her and gently took the cheque-book out of her grasp. + +"I want you to come with me, Naomi," he said very tenderly. "My darling, +will you come? I have wanted you--for years." + +A great quiver went through her, as though every pulse leapt to the +words he uttered. For a second she stood quite still, with her face +lifted to the sunlight. Then she turned, without question or words of +any sort, as she had turned long ago--yet with a difference--and laid +her hand with perfect confidence in his. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE RETURN GAME + + +I + +"Well played, Hone! Oh, well played indeed!" + +A great roar of applause went up from the polo-ground like the surge and +wash of an Atlantic roller. The regimental hero was distinguishing +himself--a state of affairs by no means unusual, for success always +followed Hone. His luck was proverbial in the regiment, as sure and as +deeply-rooted as his popularity. + +"It's the devil's own concoction," declared Teddy Duncombe, Major Hone's +warmest friend and admirer, who was watching from the great stand near +the refreshment-tent. "It never fails. We call him Achilles because he +always carries all before him." + +"Even Achilles had his vulnerable point," remarked Mrs. Perceval, to +whom the words were addressed. + +She spoke with her dark eyes fixed upon the distant figure. Seen from a +distance, he seemed to be indeed invincible--a magnificent horseman who +rode like a fury, yet checked and wheeled his pony with the skill of a +circus rider. But there was no admiration in Mrs. Perceval's intent +gaze. She looked merely critical. + +"Pat hasn't," replied Duncombe, whose love for Hone was no mean thing, +and who gloried in his Irish major's greatness. "He's a man in ten +thousand--the finest specimen of an imperfect article ever produced." + +His enthusiasm fell on barren ground. Mrs. Perceval was not apparently +bestowing much attention upon him. She was watching the play with brows +slightly drawn. + +Duncombe looked at her with faint surprise. She was not often +unappreciative, and he could not imagine any woman failing to admire +Hone. Besides, Mrs. Perceval and Hone were old friends, as everyone +knew. Was it not Hone who had escorted her to the East seven years ago +when she had left Home to join her elderly husband? By Jove, was it +really seven years since Perceval's beautiful young wife had taken them +all by storm? She looked a mere girl yet, though she had been three +years a widow. Small and dark and very regal was Nina Perceval, with the +hands and feet of a fairy and the carriage of a princess. He had seen +nothing of her during those last three years. She had been living a life +of retirement in the hills. But now she was going back to England and +was visiting her old haunts to bid her friends farewell. And Teddy +Duncombe found her as captivating as ever. She was more than beautiful. +She was positively dazzling. + +What a splendid pair she and Pat would make, Duncombe thought to himself +as he watched her. A man like Major Hone, V.C., ought to find a mate. +Every king should have a queen. + +The thought was still in his mind, possibly in his eyes also, when +abruptly Mrs. Perceval turned her head and caught him. + +"Taking notes, Captain Duncombe?" she asked, with a smile too careless +to be malicious. + +"Playing providence, Mrs. Perceval," he answered without embarrassment. + +He had never been embarrassed in her presence yet. She had a happy knack +of setting her friends at ease. + +"I hope you are preparing a kind fate for me," she said. + +He laughed a little. "What would you call a kind fate?" + +Her dark eyes flashed. She looked for a moment scornful. "Not the usual +woman's Utopia," she said. "I have been through that and come out on the +other side." + +"I can hardly believe it," protested Teddy. + +"Don't you know I am a cynic?" she said, with a little reckless laugh. + +A second wild shout from the spectators on all sides of them swept their +conversation away. On the further side of the ground Hone, with steady +wrist and faultless aim, had just sent the ball whizzing between the +posts. + +It was the end of the match, and Hone was once more the hero of the +hour. + +"Really, I sometimes think the gods are too kind to Major Hone," smiled +Mrs. Chester, the colonel's wife, and Mrs. Perceval's hostess. "It can't +be good for him to be always on the winning side." + +Hone was trotting quietly down the field, laughing all over his +handsome, sunburnt face at the cheers that greeted him. He dismounted +close to Mrs. Perceval, and was instantly seized by Duncombe and thumped +upon the back with all the force of his friend's goodwill. + +"Pat, old fellow, you're the finest sportsman in the Indian Empire. +Those chaps haven't been beaten for years." + +Hone laughed easily and swung himself free. "They've got some knowing +little brutes of ponies, by the powers," he said. "They slip about like +minnows. The Ace of Trumps was furious. Did you hear him squeal?" + +He turned with the words to his own pony and kissed the velvet nose that +was rubbing against his arm. + +"And a shame it is to make him carry a lively five tons," he murmured in +his caressing Irish brogue. + +For Hone was a giant as well as a hero and he carried his inches, as he +bore his honours, like a man. + +Raising his head, he encountered Mrs. Perceval's direct look. She bowed +to him with that regal air of hers that for all its graciousness yet +managed to impart a sense of remoteness to the man she thus honoured. + +"I have been admiring your luck, Major Hone," she said. "I am told you +are always lucky." + +He smiled courteously. + +"Sure, Mrs. Perceval, you can hardly expect me to plead guilty to that." + +"Anyway, you deserved your luck, Pat," declared Duncombe. "You played +superbly." + +"Major Hone excels in all games, I believe," said Mrs. Perceval. "He +seems to possess the secret of success." + +She spoke with obvious indifference; yet an odd look flashed across +Hone's brown face at the words. He almost winced. + +But he was quick to reply. "The secret of success," he said, "is to know +how to make the best of a beating." + +He was still smiling as he spoke. He met Mrs. Perceval's eyes with +baffling good-humour. + +"You speak from experience, of course?" she said. "You have proved it?" + +"Faith, that is another story," laughed Hone, hitching his pony's bridle +on his arm. "We live and learn, Mrs. Perceval. I have learnt it." + +And with that he bowed and passed on, every inch a soldier and to his +finger-tips a gentleman. + + +II + +"Hullo, Pat!" + +Teddy Duncombe, airily clad in pyjamas, stood a moment on the verandah +to peer in upon his major, then stepped into the room with the assurance +of one who had never yet found himself unwelcome. + +"Hullo, my son!" responded Hone, who, clad still more airily, was +exercising his great muscles with dumb-bells before plunging into his +morning tub. + +Duncombe seated himself to watch the operations with eyes of keen +appreciation. + +"By Jove," he said admiringly at length, "you are a mighty specimen! I +believe you'll live for ever." + +"Not on this plaguey little planet, let us trust!" said Hone, speaking +through his teeth by reason of his exertions. + +"You ought to marry," said Duncombe, still intently observant. "Giants +like you have no right to remain single in these degenerate days." + +"Faith!" scoffed Hone. "It's an age of feather-weights, and I'm out of +date entirely." + +He thumped down his dumb-bells, and stood up with arms outstretched. He +saw the open admiration in his friend's eyes, and laughed at it. + +But Duncombe remained serious. + +"Why don't you get married, Pat?" he said. + +Hone's arms slowly dropped. His brown face sobered. But the next instant +he smiled again. + +"Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly. + +"I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly. + +"The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is +she young, my son, and lovely?" + +"She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all +sincerity. + +"Faith!" laughed the Irishman. "But that's heartfelt! Why don't you +enter for the prize yourself?" + +"I'm going to marry little Lucy Fabian as soon as she will have me," +explained Duncombe. "We settled that ages ago, almost as soon as she +came out. It's not a formal engagement even yet, but she has promised to +bear it in mind. We had a talk last night, and--I believe I haven't much +longer to wait." + +"Good luck to you, dear fellow!" said Hone. "You deserve the best." He +laid his hand for a moment on Duncombe's shoulder. "It's been a good +partnership, Teddy boy," he said. "I shall miss you." + +Teddy gripped the hand hard. + +"You'll have to get married yourself, Pat," he declared urgently. "It +isn't good for man to live alone." + +"And so you are going to provide for my future also," laughed Hone. +"And the lady's name?" + +"Oh, she's an old friend!" said Duncombe. "Can't you guess?" + +Hone shook his head. + +"I can't imagine any old friend taking pity on me. Have you sounded her +feelings on the subject? Or perhaps she hasn't got any where I am +concerned." + +"Oh, yes, she has her feelings about you!" said Duncombe, with +confidence. "But I don't know what they are. She wasn't particularly +communicative on that point." + +"Or you, my son, were not particularly penetrating," suggested Hone. + +"I certainly didn't penetrate far," Duncombe confessed. "It was a case +of 'No admission to outsiders.' Still, I kept my eyes open on your +behalf; and the conclusion I arrived at was that, though reticent where +you were concerned, she was by no means indifferent." + +Hone stooped and picked up his dumb-bells once more. + +"Your conclusions are not always very convincing, Teddy," he remarked. + +Duncombe got to his feet in leisurely preparation for departure. + +"There was no mistake as to her reticence anyhow," he observed. "It was +the more conspicuous, as all the rest of us were yelling ourselves +hoarse in your honour. I was watching her, and she never moved her +lips, never even smiled. But her eyes saw no one else but you." + +Hone grunted a little. He was poising the dumb-bells at the full stretch +of his arms. + +Duncombe still loitered at the open window. + +"And her name is Nina Perceval," he said abruptly, shooting out the +words as though not quite certain of their reception. + +The dumb-bells crashed to the ground. Hone wheeled round. For a single +instant the Irish eyes flamed fiercely; but the next he had himself in +hand. + +"A pretty little plan, by the powers!" he said, forcing himself to speak +lightly. "But it won't work, my lad. I'm deeply grateful all the same." + +"Rats, man! She is sure to marry again." Duncombe spoke with deliberate +carelessness. He would not seem to be aware of that which his friend had +suppressed. + +"That may be," Hone said very quietly. "But she will never marry me. +And--faith, I'll be honest with you, Teddy, for the whole truth told is +better than a half-truth guessed--for her sake I shall never marry +another woman." + +He spoke with absolute steadiness, and he looked Duncombe full in the +eyes as he said it. + +A brief silence followed his statement; then impulsively Duncombe thrust +out his hand. + +"Hone, old chap, forgive me! I'm a headlong, blundering jackass!" + +"And the best friend a man ever had," said Hone gently. "It's an old +story, and I can't tell you all. It was just a game, you know; it began +in jest, but it ended in grim earnest, as some games do. It happened +that time we travelled out together, eight years ago. I was supposed to +be looking after her; but, faith, the monkey tricked me! I was a fool, +you see, Teddy." A faint smile crossed his face. "And she gave me an +elderly spinster to dance attendance upon while she amused herself. She +was only a child in those days. She couldn't have been twenty. I used to +call her the Princess, and I was St. Patrick to her. But the mischief +was that I thought her free, and--I made love to her." He paused a +moment. "Perhaps it's hardly fair to tell you this. But you're in love +yourself; you'll understand." + +"I understand," Duncombe said. + +"And she was such an innocent," Hone went on softly. "Faith, what an +innocent she was! Till one day she saw what had happened to me, and it +nearly broke her heart. For she hadn't meant any harm, bless her. It was +all a game with her, and she thought I was playing, too, till--till she +saw otherwise. Well, it all came to an end at last, and to save her from +grieving I pretended that I had known all along. I pretended that I had +trifled with her from start to finish. She didn't believe me at first, +but I made her--Heaven pity me!--I made her. And then she swore that she +would never forgive me. And she never has." + +Hone turned quietly away, and put the dumb-bells into a corner. Duncombe +remained motionless, watching him. + +"But she will, old chap," he said at last. "She will. Women do, you +know--when they understand." + +"Yes, I know," said Hone. "But she never can understand. I tricked her +too thoroughly for that." He faced round again, his grey eyes level and +very steady. + +"It's just my fate, Teddy," he said; "and I've got to put up with it. +However it may appear, the gods are not all-bountiful where I am +concerned. I may win everything in the world I turn my hand to, but I +have lost for ever the only thing I really want!" + + +III + +It was two days later that Mrs. Chester decided to give what she termed +a farewell _fête_ to all Nina Perceval's old friends. Nina had always +been a great favourite with her, and she was determined that the +function should be worthy of the occasion. + +To ensure success, she summoned Hone to her assistance. Hone always +assisted everybody, and it was well known that he invariably succeeded +in that to which he set his hand. And Hone, with native ingenuity, at +once suggested a water expedition by moonlight as far as the ruined +Hindu temple on the edge of the jungle that came down to the river at +that point. There was a spice of adventure about this that at once +caught Mrs. Chester's fancy. It was the very thing, she declared; a +water-picnic was so delightfully informal. They would cut for partners, +and row up the river in couples. + +To Nina Perceval the plan seemed slightly childish, but she veiled her +feelings from her friend as she veiled them from all the world; for very +soon it would be all over, sunk away in that grey, grey past into which +she would never look again. She even joined in conference with Mrs. +Chester and Hone over the details of the expedition, and if now and +then the Irishman's eyes rested upon her as though they read that which +she would fain have hidden, she never suffered herself to be +disconcerted thereby. + +When the party assembled on the eventful evening to settle the question +of partners, Hone was, as usual, in the forefront. The lots were drawn +under his management, not by his own choice, but because Mrs. Chester +insisted upon it. He presided over two packs of cards that had been +reduced to the number of guests. The men drew from one pack, the women +from the other; and thus everyone in the room was bound at length to +pair. + +Hone would have foregone this part of the entertainment, but the +colonel's wife was firm. + +"People never know how to arrange themselves," she declared. "And I +decline any responsibility of that sort. The Fates shall decide for us. +It will be infinitely more satisfactory in the end." + +And Hone could only bow to her ruling. + +Nina Perceval was the first to draw. Her card was the ace of hearts. She +slung it round her neck in accordance with Mrs. Chester's decree, and +sat down to await her destiny. + +It was some time in coming. One after another drew and paired in the +midst of much chaff and merriment; but she sat solitary in her corner +watching the pile of cards diminish while she remained unclaimed. + +"Most unusual!" declared Mrs. Chester. "Whom can the Fates be reserving +for you, I wonder?" + +Nina had no answer to make. She sat with her dark eyes fixed upon the +few cards that were left in front of Hone, not uttering a single word. +He sat motionless, too, Teddy Duncombe, who had paired with his hostess, +standing by his side. He was not looking in her direction, but by some +mysterious means she knew that his attention was focussed upon herself. +She was convinced in her secret soul that, though he hid his anxiety, he +was closely watching every card in the hope that he might ultimately +pair with her. + +The last man drew and found his partner. One card only was left in front +of Hone. He laid his hand upon it, paused for an instant, then turned it +up. The ace of hearts! + +She felt herself stiffen involuntarily, and something within her began +to pound and race like the hoofs of a galloping horse. A brief agitation +was hers, which she almost instantly subdued, but which left her +strangely cold. + +Hone had risen from the table. He came quietly to her side. There was no +visible elation about him. His grey eyes were essentially honest, but +they were deliberately emotionless at that moment. + +In the hubbub of voices all about them he bent and spoke. + +"It may not be the fate you would have chosen; but since submit we +must, shall we not make the best of it?" + +She met his look with the aloofness of utter disdain. + +"Your strategy was somewhat too apparent to be ascribed to Fate," she +said. "I cannot imagine why you took the trouble." + +A dark flush mounted under Hone's tan. He straightened himself abruptly, +and she was conscious of a moment's sharp misgiving that was strangely +akin to fear. Then, as he spoke no word, she rose and stood beside him, +erect and regal. + +"I submit," she said quietly; "not because I must, but because I do not +consider it worth while to do otherwise. The matter is too unimportant +for discussion." + +Hone made no rejoinder. He was staring straight before him, stern-eyed +and still. + +But a few moments later, he gravely proffered his arm, and in the midst +of a general move they went out together into the moonlit splendour of +the Indian night. + + +IV + +Slowly the boats slipped through the shallows by the bank. + +Hone sat facing his companion in unbroken silence while he rowed +steadily up the stream. But there was no longer anger in his steady +eyes. The habit of kindness, which was the growth of a lifetime, had +reasserted itself. He had not been created to fulfil a harsh destiny. +The chivalry at his heart condemned sternness towards a woman. + +And Nina Perceval sat in the stern with the moonlight shining in her +eyes and the darkness of a great bitterness in her soul, and waited. +Despite her proud bearing she would have given much to have looked into +his heart at that moment. Notwithstanding all her scorn of him very deep +down in her innermost being she was afraid. + +For this was the man who long ago, when she was scarcely more than a +child, had blinded her, baffled her, beaten her. He had won her trust, +and had used it contemptibly for his own despicable ends. He had turned +an innocent game into tragedy, and had gone his way, leaving her life +bruised and marred and bitter before it had ripened to maturity. He had +put out the sunshine for ever, and now he expected to be forgiven. + +But she would never forgive him. He had wounded her too cruelly, too +wantonly, for forgiveness. He had laid her pride too low. For even yet, +in all her furious hatred of him, she knew herself bound by a chain that +no effort of hers might break. Even yet she thrilled to the sound of +that soft, Irish voice, and was keenly, painfully aware of him when he +drew near. + +He did not know it, so she told herself over and over again. No one +knew, or ever would know. That advantage, at least, was hers, and she +would carry it to her grave. But yet she longed passionately, +vindictively, to punish him for the ruin he had wrought, to humble +him--this faultless knight, this regimental hero, at whose shrine +everybody worshipped--as he had once dared to humble her; to make him +care, if it were ever so little--only to make him care--and then to +trample him ruthlessly underfoot, as he had trampled her. + +She began to wonder how long he meant to maintain that uncompromising +silence. From across the water came the gay voices of their +fellow-guests, but no other boat was very near them. His face was in the +shadow, and she had no clue to his mood. + +For a while longer she endured his silence. Then at length she spoke: + +"Major Hone!" + +He started slightly, as one coming out of deep thought. + +"Why don't you make conversation?" she asked, with a little cynical +twist of the lips. "I thought you had a reputation for being +entertaining." + +"Will it entertain you if I ask for an apology?" said Hone. + +"An apology!" She repeated the words sharply, and then softly laughed. +"Yes, it will, very much." + +"And yet you owe me one," said Hone. + +"I fear I do not always pay my debts," she answered. "But you will find +it difficult to convince me on this occasion that the debt exists." + +"Faith, I shall not try!" he returned, with a doggedness that met and +overrode her scorn. "The game isn't worth the candle. I know you will +think ill of me in either case." + +"Why, Major Hone?" + +He met her eyes in the moonlight, and she felt as if by sheer force he +held them. + +"Because," he said slowly, "I have made it impossible for you to do +otherwise." + +"Surely that is no one's fault but your own?" she said. + +"I blame no one else," said Hone. + +And with that he bent again to his work as though he had been betrayed +into plainer speaking than he deemed advisable, and became silent again. + +Nina Perceval trailed her hand in the water and watched the ripples. +Those few words of his had influenced her strangely. She had almost for +the moment forgotten her enmity. But it returned upon her in the +silence. She began to remember those bitter years that stretched behind +her, the blind regrets with which he had filled her life--this man who +had tricked her, lied to her--ay, and almost broken her heart in those +far-off days of her girlhood, before she had learned to be cynical. + +"And even if I did believe you," she said, "what difference would it +make?" + +Hone was silent for a moment. Then--"Just all the difference in the +world," he said, his voice very low. + +"You value my good opinion so highly?" she laughed. "And yet you will +make no effort to secure it?" + +He turned his eyes upon her again. + +"I would move heaven and earth to win it," he said, and she knew by his +tone that he was putting strong restraint upon himself, "if there were +the smallest chance of my ever doing so. But I know my limitations; I +know it's all no good. Once a blackguard, always a blackguard, eh, Mrs. +Perceval? And I'd be a special sort of fool if I tried to persuade you +otherwise." + +But still she only laughed, in spite of the agitation but half-subdued +in his voice. + +"I would offer to steer," she remarked irrelevantly, "only I don't feel +equal to the responsibility. And since you always get there sooner or +later, my help would be superfluous." + +"You share the popular belief about my luck?" asked Hone. + +"To be sure," she answered gaily. "Even you could scarcely manage to +find fault with it." + +He drew a deep breath. "Not with you in the boat," he said. + +She withdrew her hand from the water, and flicked it in his face. + +"Hadn't you better slow down? You are getting overheated. I feel as if I +were sitting in front of a huge furnace." + +"And you object to it?" said Hone. + +"Of course I do. It's unseasonable. You Irish are so tropical." + +"It's only by contrast," urged Hone. "You will get acclimatised in +time." + +She raised her head with a dainty gesture. + +"You take a good deal for granted, Major Hone." + +"Faith, I know it!" he answered. "It's yourself that has turned my +head." + +Her laugh held more than a hint of scorn. + +"How amusing," she commented, "for both of us!" + +"Does it amuse you?" said Hone. + +The question did not call for a reply, and she made none. Only once more +she gathered up some water out of the magic moonlit ripples, and tossed +it in his face. + + +V + +They reached their destination far ahead of any of the others. A thick +belt of jungle stretched down to the river where they landed, enveloping +both banks a little higher up the stream. + +"What an awesome place!" remarked Mrs. Perceval, as she stepped ashore. +"I hope the rest will arrive soon, or I shall develop an attack of +nerves." + +"You've got me to take care of you," suggested Hone. + +She uttered her soft, little laugh. + +"Faith, Major Hone, and I'm not at all sure that it isn't yourself I +want to run away from!" + +Hone was securing the boat, and made no immediate response. But as he +straightened himself, he laughed also. + +"Am I so formidable, then?" + +She flashed a swift glance at him. + +"I haven't quite decided." + +"You have known me long enough," he protested. + +She shrugged her shoulders lightly. + +"Have I ever met you before to-night? I have no recollection of it." + +And mutely, with that chivalry which was to him the very air he +breathed, Hone bowed to her ruling. She would have no reference to the +past. It was to be a closed book to them both. So be it, then! For this +night, at least, she would have her way. + +He stepped forward in silence into the chequered shadow of the trees +that surrounded the ruin, and she walked lightly by his side with that +dainty, regal carriage of hers that made him yet in his secret heart +call her his princess. + +The place was very dark and eerie. The shrill cries of flying-foxes, +disturbed by their appearance, came through the magic silence. But no +living thing was to be seen, no other sound to be heard. + +"I'm frightened," said Nina suddenly. "Shall we stop?" + +"Hold my hand!" said Hone. + +"I'm not joking," she protested, with a shudder. + +"Nor am I," he said gently. + +She looked up at him sharply, as though she did not quite believe him, +and then unexpectedly and impulsively she laid her hand in his. + +His fingers closed upon it with a friendly, reassuring pressure, and she +never knew how the man's heart leapt and the blood turned to liquid fire +in his veins at her touch. + +She gave a shaky little laugh as though ashamed of her weakness. "We are +coming to an open space," she said. "We shall see the satyrs dancing +directly." + +"Faith, if we do, we'll join them," declared Hone cheerily. + +"They would never admit us," she answered. "They hate mortals. Can't you +feel them glaring at us from every tree? Why, I can breathe hostility in +the very air." + +She missed her footing as she spoke, and stumbled with a sharp cry. Hone +held her up with that steady strength of his that was ever equal to +emergencies, but to his surprise she sprang forward, pulling him with +her, almost before she had fully recovered her balance. + +"Oh, come, quick, quick!" she gasped. "I trod on something--something +that moved!" + +He went with her, for she would not be denied, and in a few seconds they +emerged into a narrow clearing in the jungle in which stood the ruin of +a small domed temple. + +Nina Perceval was shaking all over in a positive frenzy of fear, and +clinging fast to Hone's arm. + +"What was it?" he asked her, trying gently to disengage himself. "Was it +a snake that scared you?" + +She shuddered violently. "Yes, it must have been. A cobra, I should +think. Oh, what are you going to do?" + +"It's all right," Hone said soothingly. "You stay here a minute! I've +got some matches. I'll just go back a few yards and investigate." + +But at that she cried out so sharply that he thought for a moment that +something had hurt her. But the next instant he understood, and again +his heart leapt and strained within him like a chained thing. + +"No, Pat! No, no, no! You shall do no such thing!" Incoherently the +words rushed out, and with them the old familiar name, uttered all +unawares. "Do you think I'd let you go? Why, the place may be thronged +with snakes. And you--you have nothing to defend yourself with. How can +you dream of such a thing?" + +He heard her out with absolute patience. His face betrayed no sign of +the tumult within. It remained perfectly courteous and calm. Yet when he +spoke he, too, it seemed, had gone back to the old intimate days that +lay so far behind them. + +"Yes, but, Princess," he said, "what about our pals? If there is any +real danger we can't let them come stumbling into it. We'll have to warn +them." + +She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened. For an +instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something--was +it the expression in the man's steady eyes?--checked her. + +She stood a moment silent. Then, "You're quite right, Pat," she said, +her voice very low. "We'll go straight back to the boat and stop them." + +Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating. + +"You'll let me go first?" he said. "You stay here in the open! I'll come +back for you." + +But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated. "I won't!" she +declared vehemently. "I won't! Don't be so ridiculous! Of course I am +coming with you. Do you suppose I would let you go alone?" + +"Why not?" said Hone. + +He remembered later that she passed the question by. "We are wasting +time," she said, "Let us go!" + +And so together they went back into the danger that lurked in the +darkness. + + +VI + +They went side by side, for she would not let him take the lead. Her +hand was in his, and he knew by its convulsive pressure something of the +sheer panic that possessed her. And he marvelled at the power that +nerved her, though he held his peace. + +They entered the dense shadow of the strip of jungle that separated them +from the stream, and very soon he paused to strike a match. She stood +very close to him. He was aware that she was trembling in every limb. + +He peered about him, but could see very little beyond the fact that the +path ahead of them lay clear. On both sides of this the undergrowth +baffled all scrutiny. He seemed to hear a small mysterious rustling +sound, but his most minute attention failed to locate it. The match +burned down to his fingers, and he tossed it away. + +"There's nothing between us and the water," he said cheerily. "We'll +make a dash for it." + +"Stay!" she whispered, under her breath. "I heard something!" + +"It's only a bit of a breeze overhead," said Hone. "We won't stop to +listen anyway." + +He caught her hand in his once more, grasping it firmly, and they moved +forward again. They could see the moonlight glimmering on the water +ahead, and in another yard or two the low-growing bush to which Hone had +moored the boat became visible. + +In that instant, with a jerk of terror, Nina stopped short. "Pat! What +is that?" + +Hone stood still. "There! Don't be scared!" he said soothingly. "What +would it be at all? There's nothing but shadow." + +"But there is!" she gasped. "There is! There! On the bank above the +boat! What is it, Pat? What is it?" + +Hone's eyes followed her quivering finger, discerning what appeared to +be a blot of shadow close to the bush above the water. + +"Sure, it's only shadow--" he began. + +But she broke in feverishly. "It's not, Pat! It's not! There's nothing +to cast it. It's in the full moonlight." + +"You stay here!" said Hone. "I'll go and have a look." + +"I won't!" she rejoined in a fierce whisper, holding him fast. "You--you +shan't go a step nearer. We must get away somehow--somehow!" with a +hunted glance around. "Not through the undergrowth, that's certain. +We--we shall have to go back." + +Hone was still staring at the motionless blot in the moonlight. He +resisted her frantic efforts to drag him away. + +"I must go and see," he said at last. "I'm sure there's nothing to alarm +us. We can't run away from shadows, Princess. We should never hold up +our heads again." + +"Oh, Pat, you fool!" she exclaimed, almost beside herself. "I tell you +that is no shadow! It's a snake! Do you hear? It's a huge python! And it +was a snake I trod on just now. And they are everywhere--everywhere! The +whole place is rustling with them. They are closing in on us. I can hear +them! I can feel them! I can smell them! Pat, what shall we do? Quick, +quick! Think of something! See now! It's moving--uncoiling! Look, look! +Did you ever see anything so horrible? Pat!" + +Her voice ended in a breathless shriek. She suddenly collapsed against +him, her face hidden on his breast. And Hone, stooping impulsively, +caught her up in his arms. + +"We'll get out of it somehow," he said. "Never fear!" + +But even his eyes had widened with a certain horror, for the blot in the +moonlight was beyond question moving, elongating, quivering, subtly +changing under his gaze. + +He held his companion pressed tightly to his heart. She made no further +attempt to urge him. Only by the tense clinging of her arms about his +neck did he know that she was conscious. + +Again he heard that vague rustling which he had set down to a sudden +draught overhead. It seemed to come from all directions. + +"Ye gods!" he muttered softly to himself. And again, more softly, "Ye +gods!" + +To the woman in his arms he uttered no word whatever. He only pressed +the slender figure ever closer, while the blood surged and sang +tumultuously in his veins. Though he stood in the midst of mortal +danger, he was conscious of an exultation so mad as to be almost +delirious. She was his--his--his! + +Something stirred in the undergrowth close to him, and in a moment his +attention was diverted from the slow-moving monster ahead of him. He +became aware of a dark object, but vaguely discernible, that swayed to +and fro about three feet from the ground seeming to menace him. + +The moment he saw this thing, his brain flashed into sudden +illumination. The shrewdness of the hunted creature entered into him. +Without panic, he became most vividly, most intensely alive to the +ghastly danger that threatened him. He stopped to ascertain nothing +further. Swift as a lightning flash he acted--leapt backwards, leapt +sideways, landed upon something that squirmed and thrashed hideously, +nearly overthrowing him; and the next moment was breaking madly through +the undergrowth, regardless of direction, running blindly through the +jungle, fighting furiously every obstacle--forcing by sheer giant +strength a way for himself and for the woman he carried through the +opposing tangle of vegetation. + +Branches slapped him in the face as he went, clutched at him, tore him, +but could not stay his progress. Many times he stumbled, many times he +recovered himself, dashing wildly on and still on like a man possessed. +A marvellous strength was his. Titan-like, he accomplished that which to +any ordinary man would have been an utter impossibility. Save that he +was in perfect condition, even he must have failed. But that fact was +his salvation, that and the fierce passion that urged him, endowing him +with an endurance more than human. + +Headlong as was his flight, the working of his brain was even swifter, +and very soon, without slackening his speed, he was swerving round again +towards the open. He could see the moonlight gleaming through the trees, +and he made a dash for it, utterly reckless, since caution was of no +avail, but alert for every danger, cunning for every advantage, keen as +the born fighter for every chance that offered. + +And so at last, torn, bleeding, but undismayed, he struggled free from +the undergrowth, and sprang away from that place of horrors, staggering +slightly but running strongly still, till the dark line of jungle fell +away behind him and he reached the river bank once more. + +Here he stopped and loosened his grip upon the slight form he carried. +Her arms dropped from his neck. She had fainted. + +For a few seconds he stared down into her white face, seeing nothing +else, while the fiery heart of him leapt and quivered like a wild thing +in leash. Then, suddenly, from the water a voice hailed him, and he +looked up with a start. + +"Hullo, Pat! What on earth is the matter? You have landed the wrong side +of the stream. Is anything wrong?" + +It was Teddy Duncombe in a boat below him. He saw his face of concern in +the moonlight. + +He pulled himself together. + +"I was coming to warn you. This infernal jungle is full of snakes. We've +had to run for it, and leave the boat behind." + +"Great Scotland! And Mrs. Perceval?" + +Again Hone's eyes sought the white face on his arm. + +"No, she isn't hurt. It's just a faint. Pull up close, and I'll hand her +down to you!" + +Between them, they lowered her into the boat. Hone followed, and raised +her to lean against his knee. + +Duncombe began to row swiftly across the stream, with an uneasy eye upon +the two in the stern. + +"What in the world made you go wrong, I wonder?" he said. "No one ever +goes that side, not even the natives. They say it's haunted. We all +landed near the old bathing _ghat_." + +Hone was moistening Nina Perceval's face with his handkerchief. He made +no reply to Teddy's words. He was anxiously watching for some sign of +returning consciousness. + +It came very soon. The dark eyes opened and gazed up at him, at first +uncomprehendingly, then with a dawning wonder. + +"St. Patrick!" she whispered. + +"Princess!" he whispered back. + +With an effort she raised herself, leaning against him. + +"What happened? Were you hurt? Your face is all bleeding!" + +"It's nothing!" he said jerkily. "It's nothing!" + +She took his handkerchief in her trembling hand and wiped the blood +away. She said no more of any sort. Only when she gave it back to him +her eyes were full of tears. + +And Hone caught the little hand in passionate, dumb devotion, and +pressed it to his lips. + + +VII + +"I am so sorry, Major Hone, but she is seeing no one. I would ask you to +dine if it would be of any use. But you wouldn't see her if I did." + +So spoke the colonel's wife three days later in a sympathetic undertone; +while Hone paced beside her _rickshaw_ with a gloomy face. + +"She isn't ill?" he asked. "You are sure she isn't ill?" + +"No, not really ill. Her nerves are upset, of course. That was almost +inevitable. But she has determined to start for Bombay on Monday, and +nothing I can say will make her change her purpose." + +"But she can't mean to go without saying good-bye!" he protested. + +Mrs. Chester shook her head. + +"She says she doesn't like good-byes. I had the greatest difficulty in +persuading her to come here at all. I am afraid that is exactly what she +does mean to do." + +Hone stood still. His face was suddenly stubborn. + +"I must see her," he said, "with her consent or without it. Will you, of +your goodness, ask me to dine tonight? I will manage the rest for +myself." + +Mrs. Chester looked somewhat dubious. Long as she had known Hone, she +was not familiar with this mood. + +He saw her hesitation, and smiled upon her persuasively. + +"You are not going to refuse my petition? It isn't yourself that would +have the heart!" + +She laughed, in spite of herself. + +"Oh, go away, you wheedling Irishman! Yes, you may dine if you like. The +Gerrards are coming for bridge, and you'll be odd man out. There will be +no one to entertain you." + +"Sure, I can entertain myself," grinned Hone. "And it's truly grateful +that I am to your worshipful ladyship." + +He bowed, with his hand upon his heart, and, turning, went his way. + +Mrs. Chester went hers, still vaguely doubtful as to the wisdom of her +action. In common with the rest of mankind, she found Hone well-nigh +impossible to resist. + +When he made his appearance that evening, he presented an absolutely +serene aspect to the world at large. He was the gayest of the party, and +Mrs. Chester's uneasiness speedily evaporated. Nina Perceval was not +present, but this fact apparently did not depress him. He remained in +excellent spirits throughout dinner. + +When it was over, and the bridge players were established on the +veranda, he drifted off to the smoking-room in an aimless, inconsequent +fashion, and his hostess and accomplice saw him no more. + +She would have given a good deal to have witnessed his subsequent +movements, but she would have been considerably disappointed had she +done so, for Hone's methods were disconcertingly direct. All he did when +he found himself alone was to sit down and scribble a brief note. + +"I am waiting to see you" (so ran his message). "Will you come to me +now, or must I follow you to the world's end? One or the other it will +surely be.--Yours, PAT." + +This note he delivered to the _khitmutgar_, with orders to return to him +with a reply. Then, with a certain massive patience, he resumed his +cigar and settled himself to wait. + +The _khitmutgar_ did not return, but he showed no sign of exasperation. +His eyes stared gravely into space. There was not a shade of anxiety in +them. + +And it was thus that Nina Perceval found him when at last she came +lightly in from the veranda in answer to his message. She entered +without the smallest hesitation, but with that regal air of hers before +which men did involuntary homage. Her shadowy eyes met his without fear +or restraint of any sort, but they held no gladness either. Her +remoteness chilled him. + +"Why did you send me that extraordinary message?" she said. "Wasn't it a +little unnecessary?" + +He had risen to meet her. He paused to lay aside his cigar before he +answered, and in the pause that dogged expression that had surprised +Mrs. Chester descended like a mask and covered the first spontaneous +impulse to welcome her that had dominated him. + +"It was necessary that I should see you," he said. + +"I really don't know why," she returned. "I wrote a note to thank you +for the care you took of me the other night. That was days ago. I +suppose you received it?" + +"Yes, I received it," said Hone. "I have been trying, without success, +to see you ever since." + +She made a slight impatient movement. + +"I haven't seen any one. I was upset after that horrible adventure. I +shouldn't be seeing you now, only your ridiculous note made me wonder if +there was anything wrong. Is there?" + +She faced him with the direct inquiry. There was a faint frown between +her brows. Her delicate beauty possessed him like a charm. He felt his +blood begin to quicken, but he kept himself in check. + +"There is nothing wrong, Princess," he said steadily. "I am, as ever, +your humble servant, only I've got to come to the point with you before +you go. I've got to make the most of this shred of opportunity which you +have given me against your will. You are not disposed to be generous, I +see; but I appeal to your sense of justice. Is it fair play at all to +fling a man into gaol, and to refuse to let him plead on his own +behalf?" + +The annoyance passed like a shadow from her face. She began to smile. + +"What can you mean?" she said. "Is it a joke--a riddle? Am I supposed to +laugh?" + +"Heaven help me, no!" he said. "There is only one woman in the world +that I can't trifle with, and that's yourself." + +"Oh, but what an admission!" She laughed at him, softly mocking. "And +I'm so fond of trifling, too. Then what can you possibly want with me? I +suppose you have really called to say good-bye." + +"No," said Hone. He spoke quickly, and, as he spoke, he leaned towards +her. A deep glow had begun to smoulder in his eyes. "It's something else +that I've come to say--something quite different. I've come to tell you +that you are all the world to me, that I love you with all there is of +me, that I have always loved you. Yes, you'll laugh at me. You'll think +me mad. But if I don't take this chance of telling you, I'll never have +another. And even if it makes no difference at all to you, I'm bound to +let you know." + +He ceased. The fire that smouldered in his eyes had leaped to lurid +flame; but still he held himself in check, he subdued the racing madness +in his veins. He was, as ever, her humble servant. + +Perhaps she realized it, for she showed no sign of shrinking as she +stood before him. Her eyes grew a little wider and a little darker, that +was all. + +"I don't know what to say to you, Major Hone," she said, after a +moment. "I don't know even what you expect me to say, since you +expressly tell me that you are not trifling." + +"Faith!" he broke in impetuously. "And is it trifling I'd be with the +only woman I ever loved or ever wanted? I'm not asking you to flirt. I'm +asking a bigger thing of you than that. I'm asking you--Princess, I'm +asking you to stay--and be my wife." + +He drew nearer to her, but he made no attempt to touch her. Only the +flame of his passion seemed to reach her, to scorch her, for she made a +slight movement away from him. + +She looked at him doubtfully. "I still don't know what to say," she +said. + +His face altered. With a mighty effort he subdued the fiery impulse that +urged him to override her doubts and fears, to take and hold her in his +arms, to make her his with or without her will. + +He became in a trice the kindly, winning personality that all his world +knew and loved. "Sure then, you're not afraid of me?" he said, as though +he softly cajoled a child. "It wouldn't be yourself at all if you were, +you that could tread me underfoot like a centipede and not be a mite the +worse." + +She smiled a little, smiled and uttered a sudden quick sigh. "Don't you +think you are rather a fool, Pat?" she said. "I gave you credit for more +shrewdness. You certainly had more once." + +"What do you mean?" There was a sharp note of pain in Hone's voice. + +She moved restlessly across the room and paused with her back to him. +"None but a fool would conclude that because a woman is pretty she must +be good as well," she said, a tremor of bitterness in her voice. "Why do +you take it for granted in this headlong fashion that I am all that man +could desire?" + +"You are all that I want," he said. + +She shook her head. "The woman who lived inside me died long ago," she +said, "and a malicious spirit took her place." + +"None but yourself would ever dare to say that to me," said Hone. "And I +won't listen even to you. Princess--" + +"You are not to call me that!" She rounded upon him suddenly, a fierce +gleam in her eyes. "You must never--never--" + +She broke off. He was close to her, with that on his face that stilled +her protest. He gathered her to him with a tenderness that yet was +irresistible. + +"Sure, then," he whispered, with a whimsical humour that cloaked all +deeper feeling, "you shall be my queen instead, for by the saints I +swear that in some form or other I was created to be your slave." + +And though she averted her face and after a moment withdrew herself from +his arms, she raised no further protest. She suffered him to plant the +flag of his supremacy unhindered. + + +VIII + +Certainly the colonel's wife was in her element. A wedding in the +regiment, and that the wedding of its idolized hero, was to her an +affair of almost more importance than anything that had happened since +her own. The church had been fully decorated under her directions, and +she had turned it into as elegant a reception room as circumstances +permitted. White favours had been distributed to the dusky warriors +under Hone's command who lined the aisle. All was in readiness, from the +bridegroom, resplendent in scarlet and gold, waiting in the chancel with +Teddy Duncombe, the best man, to the buzzing guests who swarmed in at +the west door to be received by the colonel's wife, who in her capacity +of hostess seemed to be everywhere at once. + +"She was quite ready when I left, and looking sweet," so ran the story +to one after another. "Oh, yes, in her travelling dress, of course. That +had to be. But quite bridal--the palest silver grey. She looks quite +charming, and such a girl. No one would ever think--" and so on, to +innumerable acquaintances, ending where she had begun--"yes, she was +quite ready when I left, and looking sweet!" + +Ready or not, she was undoubtedly late, as is the recognised custom of +brides all the world over. The organist, who had been playing an +impressive selection, was drawing to the end of his resources and +beginning to improvise somewhat spasmodically. The bridegroom betrayed +no impatience, but there was undeniable strain in his attitude. He stood +stiff and motionless as a soldier on parade. The guests were commencing +to peer and wonder. Mrs. Chester made her tenth pilgrimage to the door. + +Ah! The carriage at last! She turned back with a beaming face, and +rustled up the aisle as though she were the heroine of the occasion. A +flutter of expectation went through the church. The organist plunged +abruptly into "The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden." + +Everyone rose. Everyone craned towards the door. The carriage, with its +flying favours, was stopping, had stopped. The colonel was seen +descending. + +He was looking very pale, whispered someone. Could anything be wrong? He +was not wont to suffer from nervousness. + +He did not turn to assist the bride. Surely that was strange! Nor did +she follow him. Surely--surely the carriage behind him was empty! + +Something indeed had happened. She must be ill! A great tremor went +through the waiting crowd. No one was singing, but the music pealed on +and on till some wild rumour of disaster reached the waiting chaplain, +and he stepped across the chancel and touched the organist's shoulder. + +Instantly silence fell--a terrible, nerve-racking silence. Colonel +Chester had entered. He stood just within the door, pale and stern, +whispering to the officer in charge of the men. People stared at him, at +each other, at the bridegroom still standing motionless by the chancel +steps. And then at last the silence broke into a murmur that spread and +spread. Something had happened! Something was wrong! No, the bride was +not ill. But there would be no wedding that day. + +Someone came hurriedly and spoke to Teddy Duncombe, who turned first +crimson, then very white, and finally pulled himself together with a +jerk and went to Hone. Everyone craned to see what would happen--how the +news would affect him, whether he would be deeply shocked, or +whether--whether--ah! A great sigh went through the church. He did not +seem startled or even greatly dismayed. He listened to Duncombe gravely, +but without any visible discomfiture. There could not be anything very +serious the matter, then. A note was put into his hand, which he read +with absolute calmness under the eyes of the multitude. + +When he looked up from it, the colonel had reached his side. They +exchanged a few words, and then Hone, smiling faintly, beckoned to the +chaplain. He rested a hand on his shoulder in his careless, friendly +way, and spoke into his ear. + +The chaplain looked deeply concerned, nodded once or twice, and, +straightening himself, faced the crowd of guests. + +"I am requested to state," he announced in the midst of dead silence, +"that, owing to a most regrettable and unforeseen mischance, the happy +event which we are gathered here to celebrate must be unavoidably +postponed. The bride has just received an urgent summons to England on a +matter of the first importance, which she feels compelled to obey, and +she is already on her way to Bombay in the hope of catching the steamer +which will sail to-morrow. It only remains for me to express deep +sympathy, in which I am sure all present join me, with our friend Major +Hone and his bride-elect on their disappointment, and the sincere hope +that their happy union may not long be deferred." + +He ended with a doubtful glance at Hone, who, standing on the chancel +steps, bowed briefly, and, taking Duncombe by the shoulder, marched with +him into the vestry. He certainly did not look in the least disconcerted +or anxious. It could not be anything really serious. A feeling of relief +lightened the atmosphere. People began to talk, to speculate, even to +enjoy the sensation. Poor Hone! He was not often unlucky. But, of +course, it would be all right. He would probably follow his bride to +England, and they would be married there. Doubtless that was his +intention, or he could not have looked so undismayed. + +So ran the tide of gossip and surmise. And in Hone's pocket lay the +twisted note which the woman he loved had left behind--the note which he +had read with an unmoved countenance under a host of watching eyes. + +"Good-bye, St. Patrick! It has been an amusing game, has it not? Do you +remember how you beat me once long ago? I was but a child in those days. +I did not know the rules of the game, and so you had the advantage. But +you could not hope to have it always. It is my turn now, and I think I +may claim the return match for my own. So good-bye, Achilles! Perhaps +the gods will send you better luck next time. Who knows?" + +No eye but Hone's ever read that heartless note, and his but once. Half +an hour after he had received it, it lay in ashes, but every word of it +was graven deep upon his brain. + + +IX + +It was in the early hours of the morning that Nina Perceval reached +Bombay. + +She had sat wide-eyed and motionless all through the night. She had felt +no desire to sleep. An intense horror of her surroundings seemed to +possess her. She was like a hunted creature seeking to escape from a +world of horrors. She would know no rest till she reached the sea, till +she was speeding away over the glittering water, and the land--that land +which had become more hateful to her than any prison--was left far +behind. + +She had played her game, she had sped her shaft, and now panic--sheer, +unreasoning panic--filled her. She was terrified at what she had done, +too terrified yet for coherent thought. She had taken her revenge at +last. She had pierced her conqueror to the heart. As he had once laughed +at her, as he had once, with a smile and a jest, broken and tossed her +aside--so she had done to him. She had gathered up her wounded pride, +and she had smitten him therewith. She was convinced that he would never +laugh at her again. + +He would get over it, of course; men always did. She had known men by +the score who played the same merry game, men who broke hearts for +sport and went their careless ways, unheeding, uncomprehending. It was +the way of the world, this world of countless tragedies. She had +learned, in her piteous cynicism, to look for nothing else. Faithfulness +had become to her a myth. Surely all men loved--they called it love--and +rode away. + +No, she did not flatter herself that she had hurt him very seriously. +She had dealt his pride a blow, that was all. + +She reached Bombay, and secured her berth. The steamer was to sail at +noon. There were not a great many passengers, and she managed to engage +a cabin to herself. But she could not even attempt to rest in that +turmoil of noise and excitement. She went ashore again, and repaired to +a hotel for a meal. She took a private room, and lay down; but sleep +would not come to her, and presently, urged by that gnawing +restlessness, she was pacing up and down, up and down, like a wild +creature newly caged. + +Sometimes she paused at the window to stare down into the busy +thoroughfare below, but she never paused for long. The fever that +consumed her gave her no rest, and again she was pacing to and fro, to +and fro, eternally, counting the leaden minutes that crept by so slowly. + +At last, when flesh and blood could endure no longer, she snatched up +her hat and veil, and prepared to go on board. Standing before a mirror, +she began to adjust these with trembling fingers, but suddenly stopped +dead, gazing speechlessly before her. For her own eyes had inadvertently +met the eyes of the haggard woman in the glass, and dumbly, with a new +horror clutching at her heart, she stared into their wild depths and +read as in a book the tale of torture that they held. + +When she turned away at length, she was shivering from head to foot as +though she had seen a spectre; and so in truth she had. For those eyes +had told her what she had not otherwise begun to realise. + +That which she had believed dead for so long had been, only dormant, and +had sprung to sudden, burning life. The weapon with which she had +thought to pierce her enemy had turned in her grasp and pierced her +also, pierced her with an agony unspeakable--ay, pierced her to the +heart. + + +X + +As one in a dream she stood on deck and watched India slipping below the +horizon. Her restlessness was subsiding at last. She was conscious of an +intense weariness, greater than any she had ever known. As soon as that +distant line of land had disappeared she told herself that she would go +and rest. Her fellow passengers had for the most part settled down. They +sat about in groups under the awning. A few, like herself, stood at the +rail and gazed astern, but there was no one very near her. She felt as +if she stood utterly alone in all the world. + +Slowly at last she turned away. Slowly she crossed the deck and began to +descend the companion. A knot of people stood talking at the foot. They +made way for her to pass. She went through them without a glance. She +scarcely even saw them. + +She went to her cabin and lay down, but she knew at once that sleep +would not come to her. Her eyes burned as though weighted with many +scalding tears, but she could not weep. She could only lie staring +vaguely before her, and dumbly endure that suffering which she had +vainly fancied could never again be her portion. She could only +strive--and strive in vain--to shut out the vision of the man she loved +standing alone at the altar waiting for the woman who had played him +false. + +The dinner hour approached. Mechanically she rose and dressed. She did +not shrink from meeting the eyes of strangers. They simply did not exist +for her. She took her place in the great dining saloon, looking neither +to right nor left. The buzz of conversation all around her passed her +by. She might have been sitting in utter solitude. And all the while the +misery gnawed ever deeper into her heart. + +She rose at last, before the meal was ended, and went up to the great +empty deck. She felt as if she would stifle below. But, up above, the +wash of the sea and the immensity of the night soothed her somewhat. She +found a secluded corner, and leaned upon the rail, gazing out over the +black waste of water. + +What was he doing, she wondered. How was he spending this second night +of misery? Had he begun to console himself already? She tried to think +so, but failed--failed utterly. + +Irresistibly the memory of the man swept over her, his gentleness, his +chivalry, his unfailing kindness. She was beginning to see the whole +bitter tragedy by the light of her repentance. He had loved her, surely +he had loved her in those old days when she had tricked him in sheer, +childish gaiety of soul. And, for her sake, that her suffering might be +the briefer, he had masked his love. She had never thought so before, +but she saw it clearly now. + +It had all been a miserable misunderstanding from beginning to end, but +she was sure, now, that he had loved her faithfully for all those years. +And if it were against all reason to think so, if all her experience +told her that men were not moulded thus, had not his chosen friend +declared him to be one in ten thousand, and did not her quivering +woman's heart know him to be such? Ah, what had she done? What had she +done? + +"Oh, Pat!" she sobbed. "Pat! Pat! Pat!" + +The great idol of her pride had fallen at last, and she wept her heart +out up there in the darkness, till physical exhaustion finally overcame +her, and she could weep no more. + + +XI + +"Won't you sit down?" a quiet voice said. + +She started out of what was almost a stupor of grief, to find a man's +figure standing close to her. Her eyes were all blinded by weeping, and +she could see him but vaguely in the dimness. She had not heard him +approach. He seemed to appear from nowhere. Or had he, perchance, been +near her all the time? + +Instinctively she drew a little away from him, though in that moment of +utter desolation even the sympathy of a stranger sent a faint warmth of +comfort to her heart. + +"There is a chair here," the quiet voice went on, and as she turned +vaguely, almost as though feeling her way, a steady hand closed upon her +elbow and guided her. + +Perhaps it was the touch that, like the shock of an electric current, +sent the blood suddenly tingling through her veins, or it may have been +some influence more subtle. She was yielding half-mechanically when +suddenly, piercing her through and through, there came to her such a +flash of revelation as almost deprived her for the moment of her +senses. + +She stood stock still and faced him. + +"Oh, who is it?" she cried piteously. "Who is it?" + +The hand that held her tightened ever so slightly. He did not instantly +reply, but when he did, it was on a note of grimness that she had never +heard from him before. + +"It is I--Pat," he told her. "Have you any objection?" + +She gazed at him speechlessly as one in a dream. He had followed her, +then; he had followed her! But wherefore? + +She began to tremble in the grip of sudden, overmastering fear. This was +the last thing she had anticipated. What could it mean? Had she driven +him demented? Had he pursued her to wreak his vengeance upon her, +perhaps to kill her? + +Compelled by the pressure of his hand, she moved to the dark seat he had +indicated, and sank down. + +He stood beside her, looming large in the gloom. A terrible silence fell +between them. Worn out by sleeplessness and bitter weeping, she cowered +before him dumbly. She had no pride left, no weapon of any sort +wherewith to resist him. She longed, yet dreaded unspeakably, to hear +his voice. He was watching her, she knew, though she did not dare to +raise her head. + +He spoke at last, quietly, without emotion, yet with that in his +deliberate utterance that made her shrink and quiver in every nerve. + +"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't +beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play +to a finish before we decide who scoops the pool." + +"What do you mean?" she whispered. + +He did not answer her, and she thought there was something contemptuous +in his silence. + +She waited a little, summoning her strength, then, rising, with a +desperate courage she faced him. + +"I don't understand you. Tell me what you mean!" + +He made a curious gesture as if he would push her from him. + +"I am not good at explaining myself," he said. "But you will understand +me better presently." + +And again inexplicably she shrank. There was that about him which +terrified her more than any uttered menace. + +"What are you going to do?" she said nervously. "Why--why have you +followed me?" + +He answered her in a tone which she deemed scoffing. It was too dark for +her to see his face. + +"You can hardly expect me to show my hand at this stage," he said. "You +never showed me yours." + +It was true, and she found no word to say against it. But none the less, +she was horribly afraid. She felt herself to be utterly at his mercy, +and was instinctively aware that he was in no mood to spare her. + +"I can't go on playing, Pat," she said, after a moment, her voice very +low. "I have no cards left to play." + +"In that case you are beaten," he said, with that doggedness which she +was beginning to know as a part of his fighting equipment. "Do you own +it?" + +She hesitated. + +"Do you own it?" he insisted sternly. + +And, yielding to a sudden impulse that overwhelmed all reason, she threw +herself unreservedly upon his mercy. + +"Yes, I own it." + +He stood silent for several seconds after the admission, while she +waited with a thumping heart. At last, half-grudgingly it seemed to her, +he spoke. + +"You are a wise woman," he said, "even wiser than I took you for, which +is saying much. The game is ended, then. But you will pardon me if I +refuse to surrender my winnings. Such as they are, I value them." + +She bent her head. Her subjection was complete. She was too exhausted, +physically and mentally, to attempt to withstand him, and undoubtedly +the ultimate victory was his. Had he not witnessed those agonizing +tears? + +"You are welcome to anything you can find," she said, smiling wanly. "I +suppose all experience is of value. At least, I used to think so." + +Again for a moment he was silent. Then: "It is the most valuable thing +in the world," he said, "if you know how to turn it to account. But, +sure, that is a lesson that some of us are slow to learn." + +He paused; then, as she remained silent, "You are going below to rest?" +he said. "Don't let me keep you! You have travelled hard, and need it." + +There was a hint of the old kindliness in his tone. She stood listening +to it, longing, yet not daring to avail herself of it and make her peace +with him. + +But, whatever his intentions, it was apparently no part of Hone's plan +to allow himself to be conciliated at that stage, for, after the +briefest pause, he bowed abruptly and stepped aside. + +And Nina Perceval went humbly away, as befitted one who had played a +desperate game, and had been outwitted by the adversary she had dared to +despise. + + +XII + +During the whole three weeks of the voyage Hone took no further action. + +Nina saw him every day of those interminable weeks, but he made no sign. +He did not seek her out, neither did he avoid her, but continually he +mystified her by the cheery indifference of his bearing. + +He became--as was almost inevitable--an immense favourite on board. He +was in the thick of every amusement, and no entertainment was complete +without him. No rumour of the extraordinary circumstances that had led +to his undertaking the voyage had reached their fellow passengers. No +one suspected that anything unusual existed between the winning, +frank-faced Irishman and the silent young widow who so seldom looked his +way. No one had heard of the wedding party that had lacked a bride. + +But everyone welcomed Hone, V.C., as a tremendous acquisition, and Hone, +V.C., laughed his humorous, good-tempered laugh, and placed himself +unreservedly and impartially at everyone's disposal. + +Nina never saw him in private. In public he treated her with the kindly +courtesy he extended to every woman on board. There was not in his +manner the faintest hint of anything deeper. He would laugh into her +eyes with absolute friendliness. And yet from the depths of her soul she +feared him. She knew that he was continuing the game that she had +wantonly begun. She knew that there was more to come, that he had not +done with her, that he was merely waiting, as an experienced player +knows how to wait, till the time arrived to play his final card. + +What that final card could be she had not the remotest idea, but she +awaited it with an almost morbid sense of dread. His very forbearance +seemed ominous. + +On the night before their arrival there was a dance on board. Nina, who +had not joined in any of these gaieties for the simple reason that she +had no heart for them, rose from dinner with the intention of going to +her cabin. But as she passed out of the saloon, Hone stepped forward and +intercepted her. + +"Will you give me a dance, Mrs. Perceval?" + +She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with an effort. + +"I am not dancing," she said. + +"Just one," he pleaded, with that air of gallantry that cloaked she knew +not what. + +She hesitated, and then, almost in spite of herself, with something of +the old regal graciousness, she yielded. + +"Just one, then, Major Hone, since to-morrow it will be good-bye." + +He thanked her with a deep bow, and promptly led her away. + +They danced the first waltz together in unbroken silence. Nina kept her +face studiously turned over her shoulder. Not once did she glance at her +partner, whose quiet dancing and steady arm told her nothing. + +When it was over, he led her to a seat in full view of the other +dancers, and sat down beside her. For a few seconds he maintained his +silence, then quietly he turned and spoke. + +"Are you going to stay in London?" + +The direct question surprised her. Somehow, though he had given her +small reason to do so, she had come to expect naught but subtle strategy +from him. + +"I shall spend one night there," she said, after a moment's thought. + +"No longer?" + +She faced him calmly, though her heart had begun to leap and race within +her. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Why don't you answer?" said Hone. + +He was smiling faintly, but there was determination in the set of his +jaw. + +"Because," she said slowly, "I am not sure that I want you to know." + +"Why not?" said Hone. She shook her head in silence. "It's sorry I am to +hear it," he said, after a brief pause. "For if it's to be a game of +hide-and-seek I shall soon run you to earth." + +She raised her eyebrows. Had they been alone together she knew that she +could not have disguised her fear. It had grown upon her marvellously of +late. But the publicity of their intercourse endued her with a certain +courage. + +"What is it that you want of me?" she said. + +He met her eyes with absolute steadiness. + +"I will tell you," he said, "the next time we meet." + +She tried to laugh to hide the wild tumult his words stirred up. + +"Is that a promise?" + +"My solemn bond," said Hone. + +She rose. + +"I shall stay at the Seton Ward Hotel for a week," she said. +"Good-night!" + +He rose also; they stood for a moment face to face. + +"Alone?" he asked. + +And again, with a reckless sense of throwing herself upon his mercy, she +made brief reply. + +"I haven't a friend in the world." + +He gave her his arm. + +"Any enemies?" he asked. + +They were at the door before she answered. + +"Yes--one." + +For an instant his arm grew tense, detaining her. + +"And that?" he questioned. + +She withdrew her hand sharply. + +"Myself," she said, and swiftly, without another glance, she left him. + + +XIII + +The roar of the London traffic rose muffled through the London fog. It +was a winter afternoon of great murkiness. + +In the private sitting-room of a private hotel Nina Perceval sat alone, +as she had sat for two dragging, intolerable days, and waited. She had +begun to ask herself--she had asked herself many times that day--if she +waited in vain. She would remain for the week, whatever happened, but +the torture of suspense had become such as she scarcely knew how to +endure. Something of the fever of restlessness that had tormented her at +Bombay was upon her now, but with it, subtly mingled, was a misery of +uncertainty that had not gripped her then. She was unspeakably lonely, +and at certain panic-stricken times unspeakably afraid; but whether it +was the possibility of his presence or the certainty of his continued +absence that appalled her, she could not have said. + +A fire burned with a cheery crackling in the room, throwing weird +shadows through the dimness. Yet she shivered from time to time as +though the chill of the London fog penetrated to her bones. Ah! what was +that? She startled violently at the sound of a low knock at the door, +then hastily commanded herself. It was only a waiter with the tea she +had ordered, of course. With her back to the door she bade him enter. + +But, though the door opened and someone entered, there came no jingle of +tea things. She did not turn her head. It was as though she could not. +She was as one turned to stone. She thought that the wild throbbing of +her heart would choke her. + +He came straight to her and stood beside her, not offering to touch so +much as her hand. The red firelight beat upwards on his face. She +ventured a single glance at him, and was oddly shocked by the look he +wore. Something of the red glow on the hearth shone back at her from his +eyes. She did not dare to look again. Yet when he spoke, though he +uttered no greeting, his voice was quite normal, wholly free from +agitation. + +"I should have been here sooner, but I was scouring London for an old +friend. I have found him at last, but, faith, I've had a chase. Do you +remember Jasper Caldicott, the parson who went out with us on the +_Scindia_ eight years ago?" + +"Yes, I remember him." She spoke with a strong effort. Her lips felt +stiff and cold. + +"He has a parish Whitechapel way," said Hone. "I only found him out this +morning. I wanted to bring him to see you." + +"Yes?" At his abrupt pause she moved slightly. "But he wouldn't come?" + +"He will come some day," said Hone. "But he had some scruple about +accompanying me there and then, as I wished. In fact, he wants you to +visit him instead." + +"Yes?" She almost whispered the word. She was holding the mantelpiece +with both hands to steady her trembling limbs. + +"Sure, there's nothing to alarm you at all," Hone said. "It'll soon be +over. He wants you to do him the honour of being married in his church +and there's a taxi below waiting to take you." + +"Now?" She turned and faced him, white to the lips. + +"Yes, now! By special licence." Sternly he made reply, and again she +felt as though the fire in his eyes scorched her. + +"And if I--refuse?" She stood up to her full height, flinging her fear +from her with a royal gesture that was almost a challenge. + +But Hone was ready for her. Hone, the gentle, the kind, the chivalrous, +stepped suddenly forth from his garden of virtues with level lance to +meet her. + +"By the powers," he said, and the words came from between his teeth, "I +wonder you dare to ask me that!" + +She laughed, but her laughter was slightly hysterical, and in an instant +he seized and pressed his advantage. + +"It is the end of the game," he grimly told her. "And you are beaten. +You told me once that you didn't always pay your debts. But, by Heaven, +you shall pay this one!" + +By sheer weight he beat down her resistance. Against her will, in spite +of her utmost effort, she gave way before him. + +A moment she stood in silence. Then, "So be it!" she said, and, turning, +left him. + +When she joined him again she was so thickly veiled that he could not +see her face. She preceded him without a word into the lift, and they +went down in utter silence to the waiting taxi. Then side by side +through the gloom as though they travelled through space, a myriad +lights twinkling all about them, the rush and roar of a universe in +their ears, but they two alone in an atmosphere that none other +breathed. + +It was a journey that neither ever afterwards calculated by time. It was +incalculable as the flight of a meteor. And when at last it came to an +end, for an instant neither moved. + +Then, as though emerging from a dream, Hone rose and alighted, and +turned to give his hand to his companion. A little group of ragged +urchins stood to view upon the muddy pavement. There was no other pomp +to attend the coming of a bride. + +Silently they entered a church that was lighted from end to end for +evening service. They passed up the aisle through a haze of fog. They +halted at the chancel steps.... + +The knot of urchins had grown to a considerable crowd when they emerged. +Women and half-grown girls jostled each other for a glimpse of the +bride. But the utmost that any saw was a slender figure wearing a thick +veil that walked a little apart from the bridegroom, and entered the +waiting motor unassisted. + + +XIV + +Back once more in the room where the fire crackled, newly replenished, +and electric light revealed a shining tea-table, Hone turned to the +silent woman beside him. + +"Can I write a message? I promised to send one to Teddy as soon as we +were married." + +She pointed to the writing-table; and moved herself to the fire. There +she stood for a few seconds quite motionless, seeming to listen to the +scratching of his pen. + +He ceased to write, and turned in his chair. For a moment his eyes +rested upon her. + +"Take off your hat!" he said. + +She obeyed him in utter silence. Her hands were stiff and numb with +cold. She stooped, the firelight shining on her hair, and held them to +the blaze. + +Hone rose quietly, and came to her side. He held his message for her to +read, and she did so silently. + +"Just married. All well. Love.--PAT." + +"Will it do?" he said. + +She glanced up at him and shivered. + +"Is all well?" she asked, in a tone that demanded no answer. + +He made none, merely rang the bell and gave orders for the despatch of +the message. + +Then he came quietly back to her. They stood face to face. She was quite +erect, but pale to the lips. She stood before him as a prisoner awaiting +sentence, too proud to ask for mercy. + +Hone paused a few moments, as if to give her time to speak, to challenge +him, to make her defence, or to plead her weakness. Then, as she did +none of these things, he suddenly laid steady hands upon her, drew her +to him, and, bending, looked closely into her eyes. + +"And is there any reason at all why I should not take what is my own?" +he said. + +She did not resist him, but a long shiver went through her. + +"Are you sure it is worth the taking?" she said. + +"Quite sure," he answered quietly. "Shall I tell you how I know?" + +Her eyes sank before his. + +"You will do exactly as you choose." + +He was silent for an instant, still intently searching her white face. +Then: + +"Do you remember that night that you fainted in my arms?" he said. "Do +you remember opening your eyes in the boat? Do you know--can you +guess--what your eyes told me?" + +She was silent; only again from head to foot she shivered. + +He went on very quietly, as one absolutely sure of himself: + +"I looked into your soul that night, and I saw your secret hidden away +in its darkest corner. And I knew it had been there for a long, long +time. I knew from that moment that, hate me as you might, you were mine, +as I have been yours for so long as I have known you." + +She raised her eyes suddenly, stiffening in his grasp. + +"And you expect me to believe that of you?" she said, a tremor that was +not of fear, in her voice. + +"You do believe it," he answered with conviction. + +She raised her hands with something of her old imperious grace, and laid +them on his arms, freeing herself with a single gesture. + +"And all those years ago," she said, "when you made me believe you had +been trifling with me--" + +"I lied!" said Hone. "It was the hardest thing I ever did. But something +had to be done. I did it to save you suffering." + +She turned abruptly from him, moving blindly, till groping, she found +the mantelpiece, and leaned upon it. Then, her back to him, she spoke: + +"And you succeeded in breaking my heart." + +A sudden silence fell. Hone stood motionless, his hands fallen to his +sides. The dull roar of the streets beat up through the stillness like +the roar of a distant sea, bringing to mind a night long, long ago when +first he had met his little princess, when first the gay charm of her +personality had been cast upon him. + +With a resolute effort he spoke. + +"But you were scarcely more than a child," he said. "It--sure, it +couldn't have been as bad as that?" + +At the sound of the pain in his voice she slowly turned. + +"It was much worse than that," she said. "While it lasted, it was +intolerable. There were times when I thought it would drive me crazy. +But you--you were always there, and I think the sight of you kept me +sane. I hated you so. I had to show you that I didn't care." + +Again he heard in her voice that tremor that was not of fear. + +"As long as my husband lived," she went on, "I kept up the miserable +farce. As you know, we never loved each other. Then he died, and I found +I couldn't bear it any longer. There was no reason why I should. I went +away. I should never have seen you again, only Mrs. Chester would take +no refusal. And I had put it all away from me by that time. I felt it +did not greatly matter if we did meet. Nothing seemed of much importance +till that day I saw you on the polo ground, carrying all before +you--Achilles triumphant! That day I began to hate you again." A faint +smile drew the corners of her mouth. "I think you suspected it," she +said, "but your suspicions were soon lulled to rest. Did it never cross +your mind to wonder how we came to pair on that night of the river +picnic? I accused you of cheating, do you remember? And you were quite +indignant." A glimmer of the old gay mischief shone for a fleeting +second through her tragedy. "That was the first move in the game," she +said. "At least you never suspected me of that." + +"No; you had me there." There was a ring of sternness in Hone's voice. +"So that was the beginning?" he said. + +She nodded. + +"And it would have been the end also, if you would have suffered it. For +that very night I ceased to hate you." A faint flush tinged her pale +face. "I would have let you off," she said. "I didn't want to go on. But +you would not have it so. You came after me. You wouldn't leave me +alone, even though I warned you--I warned you that I wasn't worth your +devotion. And so"--again her voice trembled--"you had to have your +lesson after all." + +"And do you know what it has taught me?" + +Again there sounded in his voice that new mastery that had so strangely +overwhelmed her. + +She shrank a little as it reached her, and turned her face aside. "I can +guess," she said. + +"And is it good at guessing that you are?" + +He drew nearer to her with the words, but he did not offer to touch her. + +She stood motionless, her head bent lest he should see, and understand, +the piteous quivering of her lips. With immense effort she made reply: + +"It has taught you to hate and despise me, as--as I deserve." + +"Faith!" he said. "You think that--honestly now?" + +The mastery had all gone out of his voice. It was soft with that +caressing quality she knew of old--that tenderness, half-humorous, +half-persuasive, that had won her heart so long, so long ago. She did +not answer him--for she could not. + +He waited for the space of a score of seconds, standing close to her, +yet still not touching her, looking down in silence at the proud dark +head abased before him. + +At last: "It's myself that'll have to tell you, after all," he said +gently, "for sure it's the only way to make you understand. It's taught +me that we can both be winners, dear, if we play the game squarely, just +as we have both been losers all these weary years. But we will have to +be partners from this day forward. So just put your little hand in mine, +and it'll be all right, mavourneen! Pat'll understand!" + +She moved at that--moved sharply, convulsively, passionately. For a +moment her eyes met his; for a moment she seemed on the verge of amazed +questioning, even of vehement protest. + +But--perhaps the grey eyes that looked straight and steadfast into her +own made speech seem unnecessary--for she only whispered, "St. +Patrick!" in a voice that trembled and broke. + +And "Princess! My Princess!" was all he answered as he took her into his +arms. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 13553-8.txt or 13553-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/5/5/13553 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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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 <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: The Tidal Wave and Other Stories</p> +<p>Author: Ethel May Dell</p> +<p>Release Date: September 29, 2004 [eBook #13553]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<br><br><h3>E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell,<br> + Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects,<br> + Jonathan Niehof,<br> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team</h3><br><br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>THE +TIDAL WAVE +AND OTHER STORIES</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>ETHEL M. DELL</h2> + +<h6>AUTHOR OF +THE LAMP IN THE DESERT, +THE HUNDREDTH CHANCE, +GREATHEART, ETC.</h6> +<br /> + +<h6>1919</h6> +<br /> + + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>BY ETHEL M. DELL +</p> +<br /> + +<ul style="list-style-type: none;"><li>The Way of an Eagle</li> +<li>The Knave of Diamonds</li> +<li>The Rocks of Valpré</li> +<li>The Swindler</li> +<li>The Keeper of the Door</li> +<li>Bars of Iron</li> +<li>Rosa Mundi</li> +<li>The Hundredth Chance</li> +<li>The Safety Curtain</li> +<li>Greatheart</li> +<li>The Lamp in the Desert</li> +<li>The Tidal Wave</li> +<li>The Top of the World</li> +<li>The Obstacle Race</li></ul> +<br /> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + +<p>ACKNOWLEDGMENT</p> + +<p>Three stories in this volume, "The Magic Circle," "The Woman of his +Dream," and "The Return Game," were first published in The Red Magazine, +and are reprinted by permission of the Editor.</p> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<a href='#The_Tidal_Wave'>THE TIDAL WAVE</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Magic_Circle'>THE MAGIC CIRCLE</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Looker_On'>THE LOOKER-ON</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Second_Fiddle'>THE SECOND FIDDLE</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Woman_of_His_Dream'>THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM</a><br /> +<br /> +<a href='#The_Return_Game'>THE RETURN GAME</a><br /> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='The_Tidal_Wave'></a><h2>THE TIDAL WAVE</h2> + + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<ol style="list-style-type: upper-roman"> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_I'>Still Waters</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_II'>The Passion-Flower</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_III'>The Minotaur</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_IV'>The Rising Tide</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_V'>Midsummer Morning</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_VI'>The Midsummer Moon</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_VII'>The Death Current</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'>The Boon</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_IX'>The Vision</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_X'>The Long Voyage</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_XI'>Deep Waters</a></li> +<li><a href='#CHAPTER_XII'>The Safe Haven</a></li> +</ol> + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_I'></a><h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<h3>STILL WATERS</h3> + +<br /> + +<p>Rufus the Red sat on the edge of his boat with his hands clasped between +his knees, staring at nothing. His nets were spread to dry in the sun; +the morning's work was done. Most of the other men had lounged into +their cottages for the midday meal, but the massive red giant sitting on +the shore in the merciless heat of noon did not seem to be thinking of +physical needs.</p> + +<p>His eyes under their shaggy red brows were fixed with apparent +concentration upon his red, hairy legs. Now and then his bare toes +gripped the moist sand almost savagely, digging deep furrows; but for +the most part he sat in solid contemplation.</p> + +<p>There was only one other man within sight along that sunny stretch of +sand—a small, dark man with a shaggy, speckled beard and quick, +twinkling eyes. He was at work upon a tangled length of tarred rope, +pulling and twisting with much energy and deftness to straighten out the +coil, so that it leaped and writhed in his hands like a living thing.</p> + +<p>He whistled over the job cheerily and tunelessly, glancing now and again +with a keen, birdlike intelligence towards the motionless figure twenty +yards away that sat with bent head broiling in the sun. His task seemed +a hopeless one, but he tackled it as if he enjoyed it. His brown hands +worked with a will. He was plainly one to make the best of things, and +not to be lightly discouraged—a man of resolution, as the coxswain of +the Spear Point lifeboat needed to be.</p> + +<p>After ten minutes of unremitting toil he very suddenly ceased to whistle +and sent a brisk hail across the stretch of sand that intervened between +himself and the solitary fisherman on the edge of the boat.</p> + +<p>"Hi—Rufus—Rufus—ahoy!"</p> + +<p>The fiery red head turned in his direction without either alacrity or +interest. The fixed eyes came out of their trance-like study and took in +the blue-jerseyed, energetic figure that worked so actively at the +knotted hemp. There was something rather wonderful about those eyes. +They were of the deep, intense blue of a spirit-fed flame—the blue of +the ocean when a storm broods below the horizon.</p> + +<p>He made no verbal answer to the hail; only after a moment or two he got +slowly to his feet and began leisurely to cross the sand.</p> + +<p>The older man did not watch his progress. His brown, lined face was +bent again over his task.</p> + +<p>Rufus the Red drew near and paused. "Want anything?"</p> + +<p>He spoke from his chest, in a voice like a deep-toned bell. His arms +hung slack at his sides, but the muscles stood out on them like ropes.</p> + +<p>The coxswain of the lifeboat gave his head a brief, upward jerk without +looking at him. "That curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said, +"he came messing round after me this morning, wanted to know would I +take him out with the nets one day. I told him maybe you would."</p> + +<p>"What did you do that for?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>The coxswain shot him a brief and humorous glance. "I always give you +the plums if I can, my boy," he said. "I said to him, 'Me and my son, +we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with +me, and p'raps a bit better, for he's got the better boat.' So he +sheered off, and said maybe he'd look you up in the evening."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I shan't be there," commented Rufus.</p> + +<p>The coxswain chuckled, and lashed out an end of rope, narrowly missing +his son's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that +chap," he observed. "Not by no manner of means. Do you know what +Columbine thinks of him?"</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>He stooped with an abrupt movement that had in it a hint of savagery, +and picked up the end of rope that lay jerking at his feet.</p> + +<p>"Tell you what, Adam," he said. "If that chap values his health he'll +keep clear of me and my boat."</p> + +<p>Everyone called the coxswain Adam, even his son and partner, Rufus the +Red. No two men could have formed a more striking contrast than they, +but their partnership was something more than a business relation. They +were friends—friends on a footing of equality, and had been such ever +since Rufus—the giant baby who had cost his mother her life—had first +closed his resolute fist upon his father's thumb.</p> + +<p>That was five-and-twenty years ago now, and for eighteen of those years +the two had dwelt alone together in their cottage on the cliff in +complete content. Then—seven years back—Adam the coxswain had +unexpectedly tired of his widowed state and taken to himself a second +wife.</p> + +<p>This was Mrs. Peck, of The Ship, a widow herself of some years' +standing, plump, amiable, prosperous, who in marrying Adam would have +gladly opened her doors to Adam's son also had the son been willing to +avail himself of her hospitality.</p> + +<p>But Rufus had preferred independence in the cottage of his birth, and in +this cottage he had lived alone since his father's defection.</p> + +<p>It was a dainty little cottage, perched in an angle of the cliff, well +apart from all the rest and looking straight down upon the great Spear +Point. He tended the strip of garden with scrupulous care, and it made +a bright spot of colour against the brown cliff-side. A rough path, +steep and winding, led up from the beach below, and about half-way up a +small gate, jealously padlocked in the owner's absence, guarded Rufus's +privacy. He never invited any one within that gate. Occasionally his +father would saunter up with his evening pipe and sit in the little +porch of his old home looking through the purple clematis flowers out to +sea while he exchanged a few commonplace remarks with his son, who never +broke his own silence unless he had something to say. But no other +visitor ever intruded there.</p> + +<p>Rufus had acquired the reputation of a hermit, and it kept all the rest +at bay. He had lived his own life for so long that solitude had grown +upon him as moss clings to a stone. He did not seem to feel the need of +human companionship. He lived apart.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, indeed, he would go down to The Ship in the evening and +lounge in the bar with the rest, but even there his solitude still +wrapped him round. He never expanded, however genial the atmosphere.</p> + +<p>The other men treated him with instinctive respect. He was powerful +enough to thrash any two of them, and no one cared to provoke him to +wrath. For Rufus in anger was a veritable mad bull.</p> + +<p>"Leave him alone! He's not safe!" was the general advice and warning of +his fellows, and none but Adam ever interfered with him.</p> + +<p>Just recently, however, Adam had begun to take a somewhat quizzical +interest in the welfare of his son. It had been an established custom +ever since his second marriage that Rufus should eat his Sunday dinner +at the family table down at The Ship. Mrs. Peck—Adam's wife was never +known by any other title, just as the man's own surname had dropped into +such disuse that few so much as knew what it was—had made an especial +point of this, and Rufus had never managed to invent any suitable excuse +for refusing. He never remained long after the meal was eaten. When all +the other fisher-lads were walking the cliffs with their own particular +lasses, Rufus was wont to trudge back to his hermitage and draw his +mantle of solitude about him once more. He had never walked with any +lass. Whether from shyness or surliness, he had held consistently aloof +from such frivolous pastimes. If a girl ever cast a saucy look his way +the brooding blue eyes never seemed aware of it. In speech with +womenkind he was always slow and half-reluctant. That his great +bull-like physique could by any means be an object of admiration was a +possibility that he never seemed to contemplate. In fact, he seemed +expectant of ridicule rather than appreciation.</p> + +<p>In his boyhood he had fought several tough fights with certain lads who +had dared to scoff at his red hair. Sam Jefferson, who lived down on +the quay, still bore the marks of one such battle in the absence of two +front teeth. But he did not take affront from womenkind. He looked over +their heads, and went his way in massive unconcern.</p> + +<p>But lately a change had come into his life—such a change as made Adam's +shrewd dark eyes twinkle whenever they glanced in his son's direction, +comprehending that the days of Rufus's tranquillity were ended.</p> + +<p>A witch had come to live at The Ship, such a witch as had never before +danced along the Spear Point sands. Her name was Maria Peck, and she was +the daughter of Mrs. Peck's late lamented husband's vagabond brother—"a +seafaring man and a wastrel if ever there was one," as Mrs. Peck was +often heard to declare. He had picked up with and eventually married a +Spanish pantomime girl up London way, so Mrs. Peck's information went, +and Maria had been the child of their union.</p> + +<p>No one called her Maria. Her mother had named her Columbine, and +Columbine she had become to all who knew her. Her mother dying when she +was only three, Columbine had been left to the sole care of her wastrel +father. And he, then a skipper of a small cargo steamer plying across +the North Sea, had placed her in the charge of a spinster aunt who kept +an infants' school in a little Kentish village near the coast. Here, up +to the age of seventeen, Columbine had lived and been educated; but the +old schoolmistress had worn out at last, and on her death-bed had sent +for Mrs. Peck, as being the girl's only remaining relative, her father +having drifted out of her ken long since.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck had nobly risen to the occasion. She had no daughter of her +own; she could do with a daughter. But when she saw Columbine she sucked +up her breath.</p> + +<p>"My, but she'll be a care!" was her verdict.</p> + +<p>"She don't know—how lovely she is," the dying woman had whispered. +"Don't tell her!"</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Peck had staunchly promised to keep the secret, so far as lay +in her power.</p> + +<p>That had happened six months before, and Columbine was out of mourning +now. She had come into the Spear Point community like a shy bird, a +little slip of a thing, upright as a dart, with a fashion of holding her +head that kept all familiarity at bay. But the shyness had all gone now. +The girlish immaturity was fast vanishing in soft curves and tender +lines. And the beauty of her!—the beauty of her was as the gold of a +summer morning breaking over a pearly sea.</p> + +<p>She was a creature of light and laughter, but there were in her odd +little streaks of unconsidered impulse that testified to a passionate +soul. She would flash into a temper over a mere trifle, and then in a +moment flash back into mirth and amiability.</p> + +<p>"You can't call her bad-tempered," said Mrs. Peck. "But she's +sharp—she's certainly sharp."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and she's got a will of her own," commented Adam. "But she's your +charge, missus, not mine. It's my belief you'll find her a bit of a +handful before you've done. But don't you ask me to interfere! It's none +o' my job."</p> + +<p>"Lor' bless you," chuckled Mrs. Peck, "I'd as soon think of asking +Rufus!"</p> + +<p>Adam grunted at this light reference to his son. "Rufus ain't such a +fool as he looks," he rejoined.</p> + +<p>"Lor' sakes! Whoever said he was?" protested the equable Mrs. Peck. +"I've a great respect for Rufus. It wasn't that I meant—not by any +manner o' means."</p> + +<p>What she had meant did not transpire, and Adam did not pursue the +subject to inquire. He also had a respect for Rufus.</p> + +<p>It was not long after that brief conversation that he began to notice a +change in his son. He made no overtures of friendship to the dainty +witch at The Ship, but he took the trouble to make himself extremely +respectable when he made his weekly appearance there. He kept his shag +of red hair severely cropped. He attired himself in navy serge, and wore +a collar.</p> + +<p>Adam's keen eyes took in the change and twinkled. Columbine's eyes +twinkled too. She had begun by being almost absurdly shy in the presence +of the young fisherman who sat so silently at his father's table, but +that phase had wholly passed away. She treated him now with a kindly +condescension, such as she might have bestowed upon a meek-souled dog. +All the other men—with the exception of Adam, whom she frankly +liked—she overlooked with the utmost indifference. They were plainly +lesser animals than dogs.</p> + +<p>"She'll look high," said Mrs. Peck. "The chaps here ain't none of her +sort."</p> + +<p>And again Adam grunted.</p> + +<p>He was fond of Columbine, took her out in his boat, spun yarns for her, +gave her such treasures from the sea as came his way—played, in fact, a +father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to +assume no authority over her. That responsibility was reserved for Mrs. +Peck, whose kindly personality made the bare idea seem absurd.</p> + +<p>And so to a very great extent Columbine had run wild. But the warm +responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a general rule, and +Mrs. Peck's government was by no means exacting.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness, she's not one to run after the men!" was her verdict +after the first six months of Columbine's sojourn.</p> + +<p>That the men would have run after her had they received the smallest +encouragement to do so was a fact that not one of them would have +disputed. But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance, and none +had so far attempted to cross the invisible boundary that she had so +decidedly laid down.</p> + +<p>And then with the summer weather had come the stranger—had come Montagu +Knight. Young, handsome, and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one +day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along the coast from +Spearmouth, on the other side of the Point. And the next day he came +again to stay.</p> + +<p>He had been there for nearly three weeks now, and he seemed to have +every intention of remaining. He was an artist, and the sketches he made +were numerous and—like himself—full of decision. He came and went +among the fishermen's little thatched cottages, selecting here, refusing +there, exactly according to fancy.</p> + +<p>They had been inclined to resent his presence at first—it was certainly +no charitable impulse that moved Adam to call him "the curly-topped +chap"—but now they were getting used to him. For there was no +gainsaying the fact that he had a way with him, at least so far as the +women-folk of the community were concerned.</p> + +<p>He could keep Mrs. Peck chuckling for an hour at a time in the evening, +when the day's work was over. And Columbine—Columbine had a trill of +laughter in her voice whenever she spoke to him. He liked to hear her +play the guitar and sing soft songs in the twilight. Adam liked it too. +He was wont to say that it reminded him of a young blackbird learning to +sing. For Columbine was as yet very shy of her own talent. She kept in +the shallows, as it were, in dread of what the deep might hold.</p> + +<p>Knight was very kind to her, but he was never extravagant in his praise. +He was quite unlike any other man of her acquaintance. His touch was +always so sure. He never sought her out, though he was invariably quite +pleased to see her. The dainty barrier of pride that fenced her round +did not exist for him. She did not need to keep him at a distance. He +could be intimate without being familiar.</p> + +<p>And intimate he had become. There was no disputing it. From the first, +with his easy <i>savoir-faire</i>, he had waived ceremony, till at length +there was no ceremony left between them. He treated her like a lady. +What more could the most exacting demand?</p> + +<p>And yet Adam continued to call him "the curly-topped chap," and turned +him over to his son Rufus when he requested permission to go out in his +boat.</p> + +<p>And Rufus—Rufus turned with a gesture of disgust after the utterance of +his half-veiled threat, and spat with savage emphasis upon the sand.</p> + +<p>Adam uttered a chuckle that was not wholly unsympathetic, and began +deftly to coil the now disentangled rope.</p> + +<p>"Do you know what I'd do—if I was in your place?" he said.</p> + +<p>Rufus made a sound that was strictly noncommittal.</p> + +<p>Adam's quick eyes flung him a birdlike glance. "Why don't you come along +to The Ship and smoke a pipe with your old father of an evening?" he +said. "Once a week's not enough, not, that is, if you—" He broke off +suddenly, caught by a whistle that could not be resisted.</p> + +<p>Rufus was regarding the horizon with those brooding eyes of vivid blue.</p> + +<p>Abruptly Adam ceased to whistle. "When I was a young chap," he said, "I +didn't keep my courting for Sundays only. I didn't dress up, mind you. +That weren't my way. But I'd go along in my jersey and invite her out +for a bit of a cruise in the old boat. They likes a cruise, Rufus. You +try it, my boy! You try it!"</p> + +<p>The rope lay in an orderly coil at his feet, and he straightened +himself, rubbing his hands on his trousers. His son remained quite +motionless, his eyes still fixed as though he heard not.</p> + +<p>Adam stood up beside him, shrewdly alert. He had never before ventured +to utter words of counsel on this delicate subject. But having started, +he was minded to make a neat job of it. Adam had never been the man to +leave a thing half done.</p> + +<p>"Go to it, Rufus!" he said, dropping his voice confidentially. "Don't be +afraid to show your mettle! Don't be crowded out by that curly-topped +chap! You're worth a dozen of him. Just you let her know it, that's +all!"</p> + +<p>He dug his hands into his trousers pockets with the words, and turned to +go.</p> + +<p>Rufus moved then, moved abruptly as one coming out of a dream. His eyes +swooped down upon the lithe, active figure at his side. They held a +smile—a fiery smile that gleamed meteor-like and passed.</p> + +<p>"All right, Adam," he said in his deep-chested voice.</p> + +<p>And with a sidelong nod Adam wheeled and departed. He had done his +morning's work.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_II'></a><h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<h3>THE PASSION-FLOWER</h3> + +<br /> + +<p>"Where's that Columbine?" said Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>A gay trill like the call of a blackbird in the dawning answered her. +Columbine, with a pink sun-bonnet over her black hair, was watering the +flowers in the little conservatory that led out of the drawing-room. She +had just come in from the garden, and a gorgeous red rose was pinned +upon her breast. Mrs. Peck stood in the doorway and watched her.</p> + +<p>The face above the red rose was so lovely that even her matter-of-fact +soul had to pause to admire. It was a perpetual wonder to her and a +perpetual fascination. The dark, unawakened eyes, the long, perfect +brows, the deep, rich colouring, all combined to make such a picture as +good Mrs. Peck realised to be superb.</p> + +<p>Again the pure contralto trill came from the red lips, and then, with a +sudden movement that had in it something of the grace of an alighting +bird, Columbine turned, swinging her empty can.</p> + +<p>"I've promised to take Mr. Knight to the Spear Point Caves by +moonlight," she said. "He's doing a moonlight study, and he doesn't +know the lie of the quicksand."</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Peck. "What made him ask you? There's Adam +knows every inch of the shore better nor what you do."</p> + +<p>"He didn't ask," said Columbine. "I offered. And I know the shore just +as well as Adam does, Aunt Liza. Adam himself showed me the lie of the +quicksand long ago. I know it like my own hand."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck pursed her lips. "I doubt but what you'd better take Adam +along too," she said. "I wouldn't feel easy about you. And there won't +be any moonlight worth speaking of till after ten. It wouldn't do for +you to be traipsing about alone even with Mr. Knight—nice young +gentleman as he be—at that hour."</p> + +<p>"Aunt Liza, I don't traipse!" Momentary indignation shone in the +beautiful eyes and passed like a gleam of light. "Dear Aunt Liza," +laughed Columbine, "aren't you funny?"</p> + +<p>"Not a bit," maintained Mrs. Peck. "I'm just common-sensical, my dear. +And it ain't right—it never were right in my young day—to go walking +out alone with a man after bedtime."</p> + +<p>"A man, Aunt Liza! Oh, but a man! An artist isn't a man—at least, not +an ordinary man." There was a hint of earnestness in Columbine's tone, +notwithstanding its lightness.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Peck remained firm. "It wouldn't make it right, not if he was +an angel from heaven," she declared.</p> + +<p>Columbine's gay laugh had in it that quality of youth that surmounts all +obstacles. "He's much safer than an angel," she protested, "because he +can't fly. Besides, the Spear Point Caves are all on this side of the +Point. You could watch us all the time if you'd a mind to."</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Peck did not laugh. "I'd rather you didn't go, my dear," she +said. "So let that be the end of it, there's a good girl!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I—" began Columbine, and broke off short. "Goodness, how you +made me jump!" she said instead.</p> + +<p>Rufus, his burly form completely blocking the doorway, was standing half +in and half out of the garden, looking at her.</p> + +<p>"Lawks!" said Mrs. Peck. "So you did me! Good evening, Rufus! Are you +wanting Adam?"</p> + +<p>"Not specially," said Rufus. He entered, with massive, lounging +movements. "I suppose I can come in," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"What a question!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>Columbine said nothing. She picked up her empty watering-can and swung +it carelessly on one finger, hunting for invisible weeds in the +geranium-pots the while.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck was momentarily at a loss. She was not accustomed to +entertaining Rufus in his father's absence.</p> + +<p>"Have a glass of mulberry wine!" she suggested.</p> + +<p>"Columbine, run and fetch it, dear! It's in the right-hand corner, third +shelf, of the cupboard under the stairs. I'm sure you're very welcome," +she added to Rufus, "but you must excuse me, for I've got to see to Mr. +Knight's dinner."</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Mother," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>He always called her mother; it was a term of deference with him rather +than affection. But Mrs. Peck liked him for it.</p> + +<p>"Sit you down!" she said hospitably. "And mind you make yourself quite +at home! Columbine will look after you. You'll be staying to supper, I +hope?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Rufus. "I don't know. Where's Adam?"</p> + +<p>"He's chopping a bit of wood in the yard. He don't want any help. You'll +see him presently. You stop and have a chat with Columbine!" said Mrs. +Peck; and with a smile and nod she bustled stoutly away.</p> + +<p>When Columbine returned with the mulberry wine and a glass on a tray the +conservatory was empty. She set down her tray and paused.</p> + +<p>There was a faintly mutinous curve about her soft lips, a gleam of +dancing mischief in her eyes.</p> + +<p>In a moment a step sounded on the path outside, and Rufus reappeared. He +had been out to fill her watering-can, and he deposited it full at her +feet.</p> + +<p>"Don't put it there!" she said, with a touch of sharpness. "I don't want +to tumble over it, do I? Thank you for filling it, but you needn't have +troubled. I've done."</p> + +<p>"Then it'll come in for tomorrow," said Rufus, setting the can +deliberately in a corner.</p> + +<p>Columbine turned to pour out a glass of Mrs. Peck's mulberry wine.</p> + +<p>"Only one glass?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>She threw him a quizzing smile over her shoulder. "Well, you don't want +two, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Rufus slowly. "But I don't drink—alone."</p> + +<p>She gave a low, gurgling laugh. "You'll be saying you don't smoke alone +next. If you want someone to keep you company, I'd better fetch Adam."</p> + +<p>She turned round to him with the words, offering the glass on the tray. +Her eyes were lowered, but the upward curl of the black lashes somehow +conveyed the impression that she was peeping through them. The tilt of +the red lips, with the pearly teeth just showing in a smile, was of so +alluring an enchantment that the most level-headed of men could scarcely +have failed to pause and admire.</p> + +<p>Rufus paused so long that at last she lifted those glorious eyes of hers +in semi-scornful interrogation.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Don't you want it?"</p> + +<p>He made an odd gesture as of one at a loss to explain himself. "Won't +you drink first?" he said, his voice very low.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said Columbine briskly. "I don't like it."</p> + +<p>"Then—I don't like it either," he said.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly!" she said. "Of course you do! I know you do! Take it, +and don't be ridiculous!"</p> + +<p>But Rufus turned away with solid resolution. "No, thanks," he said.</p> + +<p>Columbine set down the tray again with a hint of exasperation. "You're +just like a child," she said severely. "A great, overgrown boy, that's +what you are!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said Rufus, propping himself against the door-post.</p> + +<p>"It's not all right. It's time you grew up." Columbine picked up the +full glass, and, carrying it daintily, advanced upon him. "I suppose I +shall have to make you take it like medicine," she remarked.</p> + +<p>She stood against the door-post, facing him, upright, slender, exquisite +as an opening flower.</p> + +<p>"Drink, puppy, drink!" she said flippantly, and elevated the glass +towards her guest's somewhat grim lips.</p> + +<p>The sombre blue eyes came down to her with something of a flash. And in +the same moment Rufus's great right hand disengaged itself from his +pocket and grasped the slim wrist of the hand that held the wine.</p> + +<p>"You drink—first!" said Rufus, and guided the glass with unmistakable +resolution to the provocative red lips.</p> + +<p>She jerked back her head to avoid it, but the doorpost against which she +stood checked the backward movement. Before she could prevent it the +wine was in her mouth.</p> + +<p>She flung up her free hand and would have knocked the glass away, but +Rufus could be prompt of action when he chose. He caught it from her and +drained it almost in the same movement. Not a drop was spilt between +them. He set down the glass on a shelf of the conservatory, and propped +himself up once more with his hands in his pockets.</p> + +<p>Columbine's face was burning red; her eyes literally blazed. Her whole +body vibrated as if strung on wires. "How—dare you?" she said, and +showed her white teeth with the words like an angry tigress.</p> + +<p>He looked down at her, a faint smile in his blue eyes. "But I don't +drink—alone," he said in such a tone of gentle explanation as he might +have used to a child.</p> + +<p>She stamped her foot. "I hate you!" she said. "I'll never forgive you!"</p> + +<p>"A joke's a joke," said Rufus, still in the tone of a mild instructor.</p> + +<p>"A joke!" Her wrath enwrapped her like a flame. "It was not a joke! It +was a coarse—and hateful—trick!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said Rufus, as one giving up a hopeless task.</p> + +<p>"It's not all right!" flashed Columbine. "You're a bounder, an oaf, a +brute! I—I'll never speak to you again, unless—you—you—apologise!"</p> + +<p>He was still looking down with that vague hint of amusement in his +eyes—the look of a man who watches the miniature fury of some tiny +creature.</p> + +<p>"I'll do anything you like," he said with slow indulgence. "I didn't +know you'd turn nasty, or I wouldn't have done it."</p> + +<p>"Nasty!" echoed Columbine. And then her wrath went suddenly into a +superb gust of scorn. "Oh, you—you are beyond words!" she said. "You +had better get along to the bar and drink there. You'll find your own +kind there to drink with."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather drink with you," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>She uttered a laugh that was tremulous with anger. "You've done it for +the first and last time, my man," she said.</p> + +<p>With the words she turned like a darting, indignant bird, and left him.</p> + +<p>Someone was entering the drawing-room from the hall with a careless, +melodious whistle—a whistle that ended on a note of surprise as +Columbine sped through the room. The whistler—a tall, bronzed young man +in white flannels—stopped short to regard her.</p> + +<p>His eyes were grey and wary under absolutely level brows. His hair was +dark, with an inclination—sternly repressed—to waviness above the +forehead. He made a decidedly pleasant picture, as even Adam could not +have denied.</p> + +<p>Columbine also checked herself at sight of him, but the red blood was +throbbing at her temples. There was no hiding her agitation.</p> + +<p>"You seem in a hurry," remarked Knight. "I hope there is nothing wrong."</p> + +<p>His chin was modelled on firm lines, but there was a very distinct cleft +in it that imparted to him the look of one who could smile at most +things. His words were kindly, but they did not hold any very deep +concern.</p> + +<p>Columbine came to a stand, gripping the back of a chair to steady +herself. "Oh, I—I have been—insulted!" she panted.</p> + +<p>The straight brows went up a little; the man himself stiffened slightly. +Without further words he moved across to the door into the conservatory +and looked through it. He was in time to see Rufus's great, lounging +figure sauntering away in the direction of the wood-yard.</p> + +<p>Knight stood a moment or two and watched him, then quietly turned and +rejoined the girl.</p> + +<p>She was still leaning upon the chair, but she was gradually recovering +her self-control. As he drew near she made a slight movement as if to +resume her interrupted flight. But some other impulse intervened, and +she remained where she was.</p> + +<p>Knight came up and stood beside her. "What has he been doing to annoy +you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She made a small, vehement gesture of disgust. "Oh, we won't talk of +him. He is an oaf. I dare say he doesn't know any better, but he'll +never have a chance of doing it again. I don't mix with the riff-raff."</p> + +<p>"He's Adam's son, isn't he?" questioned Knight.</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Yes, the great, hulking lubber! Adam's all right. I like +Adam. But Rufus—well, Rufus is a bounder, and I'll never have anything +more to say to him."</p> + +<p>"I think you are quite right to hold your head up above these fisher +fellows," remarked Knight, his grey eyes watching her with an appraising +expression. "They are as much out of place near you as a bed of bindweed +would be in the neighbourhood of a passion-flower." His glance took in +her still panting bosom. "I think you are something of a +passion-flower," he said, faintly smiling. "I wonder at any man daring +to risk offending you."</p> + +<p>Columbine stood up with the free movement of a disdainful princess. "Oh, +he's just a lout," she said. "He doesn't know any better. It isn't as if +you had done it."</p> + +<p>"That would have been different, would it?" said Knight.</p> + +<p>She smiled, but a sombre light still shone in her eyes. "Quite +different," she said with simplicity. "You see, you're a gentleman. +And—gentlemen—don't do unpleasant things like that."</p> + +<p>He laughed a little. "You make me feel quite nervous. What a shocking +thing it would be if I ever did anything to forfeit your good opinion."</p> + +<p>"You couldn't," said Columbine.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't!" He repeated the word with an odd inflection.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be you," she explained with the utmost gravity, as one +stating an irrefutable fact.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Knight.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's not a compliment," she returned. "It's just the truth. There +are some people—a few people—that one knows one can trust through and +through. And you are one of them, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" said Knight. "You know, that's rather—a colossal +thing—to say of any one."</p> + +<p>"Then you are colossal," said Columbine, smiling more freely.</p> + +<p>Knight turned aside, and picked up the sketch-book he had laid upon the +table on entering. "Are you sure you are not rash?" he said, rather in +the tone of one making a remark than asking a question.</p> + +<p>"Fairly sure," said Columbine.</p> + +<p>She followed him. Perhaps he had foreseen that she would. She stood by +his side.</p> + +<p>"May I see the latest?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He opened the book and showed her a blank page. "That is the latest," he +said.</p> + +<p>She looked at him interrogatively.</p> + +<p>"I am waiting for my—inspiration," he said.</p> + +<p>"I hope you will find it soon," she said.</p> + +<p>He answered her with steady conviction. "I shall find it tonight by +moonlight at the Spear Point Rock."</p> + +<p>Her face clouded a little. "I believe Adam is going to take you," she +said.</p> + +<p>"What?" said Knight. "You are never going to let me down?"</p> + +<p>She smiled with a touch of irony. "It was the Spear Point you wanted," +she reminded him.</p> + +<p>"And you," said Knight, "to show the way."</p> + +<p>Something in his tone arrested her. Her beautiful eyes sank suddenly to +the blank page he held. "Adam can do that—as well as I can," she said.</p> + +<p>"But you said you would," said Knight. His voice was low; he was looking +full at her. He saw the rich colour rising in her cheeks. "What is it?" +he said. "Won't they let you?"</p> + +<p>She raised her head abruptly, proudly. "I please myself," she said. "No +one has the ordering of me."</p> + +<p>His grey eyes shone a little. "Then it pleases you—to let me down?" he +questioned.</p> + +<p>Her look flashed suddenly up to his. She saw his expression and laughed. +"I didn't think you'd care," she said. "Adam knows the lie of the +quicksand. That's all you really want."</p> + +<p>"Oh, pardon me!" said Knight. "You are quite wrong, if you imagine that +I am indifferent as to who goes with me. Inspiration won't burn in a +cold place."</p> + +<p>She dropped her lids, still looking at him. "Isn't Adam inspiring?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"He couldn't furnish the particular sort of inspiration I am needing +for my moonlight picture," said Knight.</p> + +<p>He spoke deliberately, but his brows were slightly drawn, belying the +coolness of his speech.</p> + +<p>"What is the sort of inspiration you are wanting?" asked Columbine.</p> + +<p>He smiled with a hint of provocation. "I'll tell you that when we get +there."</p> + +<p>Her answering smile was infinitely more provocative than his. "That will +be very interesting," she said.</p> + +<p>Knight closed his sketch-book. "I am glad to know," he said +thoughtfully, "that you please yourself, Miss Columbine. In doing so, +you have the happy knack of pleasing—others."</p> + +<p>He made her a slight, courtly bow, and turned away.</p> + +<p>He left her still standing at the table, looking after him with +perplexity and gathering resolution in her eyes.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_III'></a><h3>CHAPTER III</h3> + +<h3>THE MINOTAUR</h3> + +<br /> +<p>"Not stopping to supper even? Well, you must be a darned looney!"</p> + +<p>Adam sat down astride his wood-block with the words, and looked up at +his son with the aggressive expression of a Scotch terrier daring a +Newfoundland.</p> + +<p>Rufus, with his hands in his pockets, leaned against the woodshed. He +made no reply of any sort to his father's brisk observation. Obviously +it made not the faintest impression upon him.</p> + +<p>After a moment or two he spoke, his pipe in the corner of his mouth. "If +that chap bathes off the Spear Point rocks when the tide's at the spring +he'll get into difficulties."</p> + +<p>"Who says he does?" demanded Adam.</p> + +<p>Rufus jerked his head. "I saw him—from my place—this afternoon. Tide +was going down, or the current would have caught him. Better warn him."</p> + +<p>"I did," responded Adam sharply. "Warned him long ago. Warned him of the +quicksand, too."</p> + +<p>Rufus grunted. "Then he's only himself to thank. Or maybe he doesn't +know a spring tide from a neap."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's not such a fool as that," said Adam.</p> + +<p>Rufus grunted once again, and relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>It was at this point that Mrs. Peck showed her portly person at the back +door of The Ship.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rufus," she said, "I thought you was in the front with Columbine."</p> + +<p>Rufus stood up with the deference that he never omitted to pay to Adam's +wife. "So I was," he said. "I came along here after to talk to Adam."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck's round eyes gave him a searching look. "Did you have your +mulberry wine?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mother."</p> + +<p>"You were mighty quick about it," commented Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's in a hurry," said Adam, with one of his birdlike glances. +"Can't stop for anything, missus. Wants to get back to his supper."</p> + +<p>"I never!" said Mrs. Peck. "You aren't in that hurry, Rufus, surely! +Just as I was going to ask you to do something to oblige me, too!"</p> + +<p>"What's that?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck descended into the yard with a hint of mystery. "Well, just +this," she said confidentially. "That there Mr. Knight, he's a very nice +young gentleman; but he's an artist, and you know, artists don't look at +things like ordinary folk. He wants to get a moonlight picture of the +Spear Point, and he's got our Columbine to say she'll take him there +tonight. Well, now, I don't think it's right, and I told her so. But, of +course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and +different-like from the rest. Still, I said as I'd rather she didn't, +and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know. It +wouldn't be hardly safe to let him go alone. He's a bit foolhardy too. +But Adam's not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise. So +I thought as how maybe you'd step into the breach and take Mr. Knight +along. Come, you won't refuse?"</p> + +<p>She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the +young fisherman's rugged face.</p> + +<p>Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips +and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you go, Rufus!" he said, as Mrs. Peck paused. "You show him round! +I'd like him to know you."</p> + +<p>"What for?" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a +wink and a grin. "Do you good to go into society," he said. "That's all +right, missus, he'll go. Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants +to start."</p> + +<p>"Wait a bit!" commanded Rufus.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck waited. She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as +his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that. +Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men.</p> + +<p>"It comes to this," said Rufus, speaking ponderously. "I'll go if I'm +wanted. But I'm not one for shoving myself in otherwise. Maybe the chap +won't be so keen himself when he knows he can't have Columbine to go +with him. Find that out first!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile. "Lor', Rufus! You've +got some sense," she said. "But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I +says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back."</p> + +<p>Adam chuckled. "Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I +know," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"Ah! She don't visit her tantrums on you," rejoined his wife. "You can +afford to smile."</p> + +<p>"And I does," said Adam.</p> + +<p>Rufus turned away. There was no smile on his countenance. He said +nothing, but there was that in his demeanour that clearly indicated that +he personally was neither amused nor disconcerted by the tantrums of +Columbine.</p> + +<p>He followed Mrs. Peck indoors, and sat down in the kitchen to await +developments. And Adam, whistling cheerfully, strolled to the bar.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck had to dish up the visitor's dinner before she could tackle +him upon the subject in hand. She trotted to and fro upon her task, too +intent for further speech with Rufus, who sat in unbroken silence, +gazing steadily before him with a Sphinx-like immobility that made of +him an impressive figure.</p> + +<p>The beefsteak was already in the dish, and Mrs. Peck was in the act of +pouring the gravy over it when there sounded a light step on the stone +of the passage and Columbine entered.</p> + +<p>She had removed her sun-bonnet and donned a dainty little apron. The +soft dark hair clustered tenderly about her temples.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aunt Liza," she said, "if I didn't go and forget that Sally was out +tonight! I'm sorry I'm too late to help with the dinner. But I'll take +it in."</p> + +<p>She caught her breath at sight of the massive, silent figure seated +against the wall, but instantly recovered her composure and passed it by +with an upward tilt of the chin.</p> + +<p>"You needn't trouble yourself to do that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Peck, +with a touch of tartness. "I'll wait on Mr. Knight myself. You can lay +the supper in the parlour if you've a mind to be useful. There'll be +four to lay for."</p> + +<p>Columbine turned with something of a pounce. "No, there won't! There'll +be three," she said. "If that—oaf—stays to supper, I go without!"</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck.</p> + +<p>Rufus came out of his silence. "That's all right. I'm not staying to +supper," he said.</p> + +<p>"But—lor' sakes!—what's the matter?" questioned Mrs. Peck. "Have you +two been quarrelling?"</p> + +<p>"No, we haven't!" flashed Columbine. "I wouldn't stoop. But I'm not +going to sit down to supper with a man who hasn't learnt manners. I'd +sooner go without—much."</p> + +<p>Rufus remained absolutely unmoved. He made no attempt at +self-justification, though Mrs. Peck was staring from one to the other +in mystified interrogation.</p> + +<p>Columbine turned swiftly and caught up a cover for the savoury dish that +steamed on the table. "You'd better let me take this in before it gets +cold," she said.</p> + +<p>"No; put it on the rack!" commanded Mrs. Peck. "There's a drop of soup +to go in first. And, Columbine, my dear, I don't think it's right of you +to go losing your temper that way. Rufus is Adam's son, remember, and +you can't refuse to sit at table with him."</p> + +<p>"Leave her alone, Mother!" For the second time Rufus intervened. "I've +offended her. My mistake. I'll know better next time."</p> + +<p>His deep voice was wholly devoid of humour. It was, in fact, devoid of +any species of emotion whatever. Yet, oddly enough, the anger died out +of Columbine's face as she heard it. She turned to the tablecloth-press +and began to unwind it in silence.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck sniffed, and took up the soup-tureen.</p> + +<p>As she waddled out of the kitchen Columbine withdrew the parlour +tablecloth and turned round.</p> + +<p>"If you're really sorry," she said, "I'll forgive you."</p> + +<p>Rufus regarded her for several seconds in silence, a slow smile dawning +in his eyes. "Thank you," he said finally.</p> + +<p>"You are sorry then?" insisted Columbine.</p> + +<p>He shook his great bull-head, the smile still in his eyes. "I wouldn't +have missed it for anything," he said.</p> + +<p>There was no perceptible familiarity in the remark, and Columbine, after +brief consideration, decided to dismiss it without discussion. "Well, +let it be a lesson to you, and don't you ever do such a thing again!" +she said severely. "For I won't have you or any man lay hands on me—not +even in fun."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if to remove all cause of +offence, and was rewarded by a swift smile from Columbine. The storm had +blown away.</p> + +<p>"I'll lay for four after all," she said, as she whisked out of the room.</p> + +<p>Rufus was still seated in solitary state in the kitchen when Mrs. Peck +returned from the little coffee-room where she had been serving her +guest.</p> + +<p>She peered round with caution ere she came close to him and spoke.</p> + +<p>"It's as you thought. He don't want to go with either you or Adam."</p> + +<p>Rufus's face remained unchanged; it was slightly bovine of expression as +he received the news. "We'll both get to bed in good time then," was his +comment.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck's smooth brow drew in momentary exasperation. She had expected +something more dramatic than this.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're so easily satisfied," she said. "But let me tell +you—I'm not!"</p> + +<p>She paused to see if this piece of information would take more effect +than the first, but again Rufus proved a disappointment. Neither by word +nor look did he express any sympathy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck continued, it being contrary to her nature to leave anything +to the imagination of her hearers. "If he'd been content to go with one +of you, I wouldn't have given it another thought. Goodness knows, I'm +not of a suspicious turn. But the moment I mention the matter, he turns +round with his sweetest smile and he says, 'Oh, don't you trouble, Mrs. +Peck!' he says. 'I quite understand. Miss Columbine explained it all, +and I quite see your point. It ought to have occurred to me sooner,' he +says, smiling with them nice teeth of his, 'but, if you'll believe me, +it didn't.' And then, when I suggested maybe he'd like you or Adam to go +with him instead, it was, 'No, no, Mrs. Peck. I wouldn't ask it of 'em. +I couldn't drag any man at the chariot-wheels of Art. If I did, she +would see to it that the chariot was empty.' He most always talks like +that," ended Mrs. Peck in an aggrieved tone. "He's that airy in his +ways."</p> + +<p>A sudden trill of laughter from the doorway caused her to straighten +herself sharply and trot to the fireplace with a guilty air.</p> + +<p>Columbine entered, light of foot, her eyes brimful of mirth. "You're +caught, Aunt Liza! Yes, you're caught!" she commented ungenerously. "I +know exactly what you were saying. Shall I tell you? No, p'raps I'd +better not. I'll tell you what you looked like instead, shall I? You +looked exactly like that funny old speckled hen in the yard who always +clucks such a lot. And Rufus"—she threw him a merry glance from which +all resentment had wholly departed—"Rufus looks—and is—just like a +great red ox."</p> + +<p>"Don't you be pert!" said Mrs. Peck, stooping stoutly over the fire. +"Get a duster and dust them plates!"</p> + +<p>Columbine laughed again with her chin in the air. She found a duster and +occupied herself as desired.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were upon her work. Plainly she was not looking at Rufus, not +apparently thinking of him. But—very suddenly—without changing her +attitude, she flashed him a swift glance. He was looking straight at +her, and in his blue eyes was an intense, deep glow as of flaming +spirit.</p> + +<p>Columbine's look shot away from him with the rapidity of a swallow on +the wing. The colour deepened in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>"P'raps he's almost more like a prize bull," she said meditatively. +"Perhaps he's a Minotaur, Aunt Liza. Do you think he is?"</p> + +<p>"My dear, I don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Peck, with +a touch of acidity.</p> + +<p>Columbine laughed a little. "Do you know, Rufus?" she said.</p> + +<p>She did not look at him with the question; there was a quivering dimple +in her red cheek that came and went.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know," said Rufus with simplicity.</p> + +<p>"Would you, really?" Columbine polished the last plate vigorously and +set it down. "The Minotaur," she said, in the tone of a schoolmistress +delivering a lecture, "was a monster, half-bull, half-man, who lived in +a place like the Spear Point Caves, and devoured young men and maidens. +You live nearer to the Caves than any one else, don't you, Rufus?"</p> + +<p>Again she ventured a darting glance at him. His look was still upon her, +but its fiery quality was less apparent. He met the challenge with his +slow, indulgent smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I live there. I don't devour anybody. I'm not—that sort of +monster."</p> + +<p>Columbine shook her head. "I'm not so sure of that," she said. "But I +dare say you'd tame."</p> + +<p>"P'raps you'd like to do it," suggested Rufus.</p> + +<p>It was his first direct overture, and Columbine, who had angled for it, +experienced a thrill of triumph. But she was swift to mask her +satisfaction. She tossed her head, and turned: "Oh, I've no time to +waste that way," she said. "You must do your own taming, Mr. Minotaur. +When you're quite civilised, p'raps I'll talk to you."</p> + +<p>She was gone with the words, carrying her plates with her.</p> + +<p>"She's a deal too pert," observed Mrs. Peck to the saucepan she was +stirring. "It's my belief now that that Mr. Knight's been putting ideas +into her head. She's getting wild; that's what she is."</p> + +<p>Knowing Rufus, she expected no response, and for several seconds none +came.</p> + +<p>Then to her surprise she heard his voice, deep and sonorous as the +bell-buoy that was moored by the Spear Point Reef.</p> + +<p>"Maybe she'd tame," he said.</p> + +<p>And "Goodness gracious unto me!" said Mrs. Peck, as she lifted her +saucepan off the fire.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV'></a><h3>CHAPTER IV</h3> + +<h3>THE RISING TIDE</h3> + +<br /> +<p>A long dazzling pathway of moonlight stretched over the sea, starting +from the horizon, ending at the great jutting promontory of the Spear +Point. The moon was yet three nights from the full. The tide was rising, +but it would not be high for another two hours.</p> + +<p>The breakers ran in, one behind the other, foaming over the hidden +rocks, splashing wildly against the grim wall of granite that stood +sharp-edged to withstand them. It was curved like a scimitar, that rock, +and within its curve there slept, when the tide was low, a pool. When +the tide rose the waters raged and thundered all around the rock, but +when it sank again the still, deep pool remained, unruffled as a +mountain tarn and as full of mystery.</p> + +<p>Over a tumble of lesser rocks that bounded the pool to shoreward the +wary might find a path to the Spear Point Caves; but the path was +difficult, and there were few who had ever attempted it. For the +quicksand lay like a golden barrier between the outer beach and the +rocks that led thither.</p> + +<p>It was an awesome spot. Many a splinter of wreckage had been tossed in +over the Spear Point as though flung in sport from a giant hand. And +when the water was high there came a hollow groaning from the inner +caves as though imprisoned spirits languished there.</p> + +<p>But on that night of magic moonlight the only sound was the murmurous +splash of the rising waves as they met the first grim rocks of the +Point. Presently they would dash in thunder round the granite blade, and +the sleeping pool would be turned to a smother of foam.</p> + +<p>On the edge of the pool a woman's figure clad in white stood balanced +with outstretched arms. So still was the water, so splendid the +moonlight, that the whole of her light form was mirrored there—a +perfect image of nymph-like grace. She sang a soft, low, trilling song +like the song of a blackbird awaking to the dawn.</p> + +<p>"By Jupiter!" Knight murmured to himself. "If I could get her only +once—only once—as—she—is!"</p> + +<p>The gleam of the hunter was in his look. He stood on the rocks some +yards away from her, gazing with eyes half-shut.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she turned herself, and across the intervening space her voice +came to him, half-mocking, half-alluring, "Have you found your +inspiration yet?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet," he said.</p> + +<p>She raised her shoulders with a humorous gesture, "Hasn't the magic +begun to work?"</p> + +<p>He came towards her, moving slowly and with caution. "Don't move!" he +said.</p> + +<p>She waited for him on the edge of the pool. There was laughter in her +eyes, laughter and the sublime daring of innocence.</p> + +<p>He reached her. They stood together on the same flat rock. He bent to +her, in his eyes the burning worship of beauty.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!" he said. "Witch! Enchantress! Queen!"</p> + +<p>The red blood raced into her face. Her eyes shone into his with a sudden +glory—the glory of the awaking soul. But the woman-instinct in her +checked the first quick impulse of surrender.</p> + +<p>She made a little motion away from him. She laughed and veiled her eyes +from the fiery adoration that flamed upon her. "The magic is +working—evidently," she said. "What a good thing I brought you here!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; it is a good thing," he said, and in his voice she heard the deep +note of a mastery that would not be denied. "Do you know what you have +done to me, you goddess? You have opened the eyes of my heart. I am +dazzled. I am blinded. I believe I am possessed. When I paint my picture +—it will be such as the world has never seen."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better begin it?" whispered Columbine.</p> + +<p>He held out his hand to her—a hand that was not wholly steady. "Not +yet," he said. "The vision is too near, too wonderful. How shall I paint +the rapture that I have hardly yet dared to contemplate? Columbine!"</p> + +<p>His voice suddenly pleaded, and as though in answer she laid her hand in +his. But she did not raise her eyes. She palpitated from head to foot +like a captured bird.</p> + +<p>"You are not—afraid?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," she whispered back. "Not of you—not of you!"</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "We are caught in the same net. There is nothing terrible +in that. The same magic is working in us both. Let it work, dear! We +understand each other. Why should there be anything to fear?"</p> + +<p>But still she did not raise her eyes, and still she trembled in his +hold. "I never thought," she faltered, "never dreamed. Oh, is it true?"</p> + +<p>"True that you are the most beautiful creature that this earth +contains?" he said, and his voice throbbed upon the words. "True that +the very sight of you turns my blood to fire? Aphrodite, goddess and +sorceress, do you doubt that? Wait till you see my picture, and then +ask! I have found my inspiration tonight—yes, I have found it—but it +is so immense—so overwhelming—that I cannot grasp it yet. Tonight, +dear, just for tonight—let me worship at your feet! This madness must +have its way. In the morning I shall be sane again. Tonight—tonight I +tread Olympus with the Immortals."</p> + +<p>He was drawing her towards him, and Columbine—Columbine, who suffered +no man's hand upon her—was yielding slowly, but inevitably, to the +persuasion of his touch. Just at the last, indeed, she made a small, +wholly futile attempt to free herself; but the moment she did so his +hold became the hold of the conqueror, and with a faint laugh she flung +aside the instinct that had prompted it. The next instant, freely and +splendidly, she raised her downcast face and abandoned herself utterly +to him.</p> + +<p>To give without stint was the impulse of her passionate, Southern +nature, and she gave freely, royally, that night. The magic that ran in +the veins of both was too compelling to be resisted. The girl, with her +half-awakened soul, the man, with his fiery thirst for beauty, were +caught in the great current that sweeps like a tidal wave around the +world, and it bore them swiftly, swiftly, whither neither he in his +restlessness nor she in her in experience realised or cared. If the +sound of the breakers came to them from afar they heeded it not. They +were too far away to matter as yet, and Knight had steered a safe course +for himself in troubled seas before. As for Columbine, she knew only the +rapture of love triumphant, and tasted perfect safety in the holding of +her lover's arms. He had won her with scarcely a struggle, and she +gloried with an ecstasy that was in its way sublime in the completeness +of her surrender. On such a night as that it seemed to her that the +whole world lay at her feet, and she knew no fear.</p> + +<p>The still pool slept in the moonlight, a lake of silver, unspeakably +calm. Beyond the outstretched blade of rock the great waters rose and +rose. The murmur of them had swelled to a roar. The splash of them +mounted higher and ever higher. Suddenly a crest of foam gleamed like a +tongue of lightning at the point of the curve. The pool stirred as if +awakening. The moonlight on its surface was shivered in a thousand +ripples. They broke in a succession of tiny wavelets against the +encircling rocks.</p> + +<p>Another silver crest appeared, burst in thunder, and in a moment the +pool was flooded with tossing water.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that?" whispered Columbine. "It is like my life."</p> + +<p>They stood together under the frowning cliff and watched the wonder of +the pool's awakening. Knight's arm held her close pressed to his side. +He could feel the beating of her heart. She stood with her face upturned +to his and all the glory of love's surrender shining in her eyes.</p> + +<p>He caught his breath as he looked at her. He stooped and kissed the red, +red lips that gave so generously. "Is my love as the rising tide to you, +sweet?" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"It is more!" she answered passionately. "It is more! It is the tidal +wave that comes so seldom—maybe only once in a lifetime—and carries +all before it."</p> + +<p>He pressed her closer. "My passion-flower!" he said. "My queen!"</p> + +<p>He kissed the throbbing whiteness of her throat, the loose clusters of +her hair. He laid his hot face against her neck, and held it so, not +breathing. Her arms stretched upwards, clasping him. She was +panting—panting as one in deep waters.</p> + +<p>"I love you! I love you!" she whispered tensely. "Oh, how I love you!"</p> + +<p>Again there came the thunder of the surf. The waters of the pool leapt +as if a giant hand had churned them. The foam from beyond the reef +overspread them like snow. The whole world became full of the sound of +surging waters.</p> + +<p>Knight opened his eyes. "The tide is coming up fast," he said. "We must +be getting back."</p> + +<p>She clung closer to him. "I could die with you on a night like this," +she said.</p> + +<p>He crushed her to his heart. "Ah, goddess!" he said. "You couldn't die! +But I am only mortal, and the tide won't wait."</p> + +<p>Again the swirling breakers swept around the Point. Reluctantly she came +to earth. The pool had become a seething whirl of water.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "we must go, and quickly—quickly! It rises so fast +here."</p> + +<p>Sure-footed as a doe over the slippery rocks, she led the way. They left +the magic place and the dazzling tumble of moonlit water, the dark +caves, the enchanted strand. Progress was not easy, but Knight had been +that way before, though only by day. He followed his guide closely, and +when presently they emerged upon level sand, he overtook and walked +beside her.</p> + +<p>She slipped her hand into his. "It's the lie of the quicksand that's +puzzling," she said, "if you don't know it well."</p> + +<p>"I am in thy hands, O Queen," he made light reply. "Lead me whither thou +wilt!"</p> + +<p>She laughed—a low, sweet laugh of sheer happiness. "And if I lead you +astray?"</p> + +<p>"I would follow you down to the nethermost millstone," he vowed.</p> + +<p>Her hand tightened upon his. She paused a moment, looking out over the +stretch of sand that intervened between them and the little +fishing-quay. He had safely negotiated that stretch of sand by daylight, +though even then it had needed an alert eye to detect that slight +ooziness of surface that denoted the presence of the sea-swamp. But by +night, even in that brilliant moonlight, it was barely perceptible. +Columbine herself did not trust to appearances. She had learnt the way +from Adam as a child learns a lesson by heart. He had taught her to know +the danger-spot by the shape of the cliffs above it.</p> + +<p>After a very brief pause to take her bearings, she moved forward with +absolute assurance. Knight accompanied her with unquestioning +confidence. His faith in his own luck was as profound as his faith in +the girl at his side. And the tumult in his veins that night was such as +to make him insensible of danger. The roar of the rising tide +exhilarated him. He walked with the stride of a conqueror, free and +unafraid, his face to the sea.</p> + +<p>Unerringly she led him, but she did not speak again until they had made +the passage and the treacherous morass of sand was left behind.</p> + +<p>Then, with a deep breath, she stopped. "Now we are safe!"</p> + +<p>"Weren't we safe before?" he asked carelessly.</p> + +<p>Her eyes sought his; she gave a little shiver. "Oh, are we ever safe?" +she said. "Especially when we are happy? That quicksand makes one +think."</p> + +<p>"Never spoil the present by thinking of the future!" said Knight +sententiously.</p> + +<p>She took him seriously. "I don't. I want to keep the present just as it +is—just as it is. I would like to stay with you here for ever and ever, +but in another half-hour—in less—the tide will be racing over this +very spot, and we shall be gone." Her voice vibrated; she cast a glance +behind. "One false step," she said, "too sharp a turn, too wide a curve, +and we'd have been in the quicksand! It's like that all over. It's life, +and it's full of danger, whichever way we turn."</p> + +<p>He looked at her curiously. "Why, what has come to you?" he said.</p> + +<p>She caught her breath in a sound that was like a sob. "I don't know," +she said. "It's being so madly happy that has frightened me. It can't +last. It never does last."</p> + +<p>He smiled upon her philosophically. "Then let us make the most of it +while it does!" he said. "Tonight will pass, but—don't forget—there is +tomorrow."</p> + +<p>She answered him feverishly. "The moon may not shine tomorrow."</p> + +<p>He laughed, drawing her to him. "I can do without the moon, queen of my +heart."</p> + +<p>She went into his arms, but she was trembling. "I feel—somehow—as if +someone were watching us," she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Exactly my own idea," he said. "The moon is a bit too intrusive +tonight. I shan't weep if there are a few clouds tomorrow."</p> + +<p>She laughed a little dubiously. "We couldn't cross the quicksand if the +light were bad."</p> + +<p>"We could get down to the Point by the cliff-path," he pointed out. "I +went that way only this afternoon."</p> + +<p>"Ah! But it is very steep, and it passes Rufus's cottage," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"What of it?" he said indifferently. "I'm sure he sleeps like a log."</p> + +<p>She turned from the subject. "Besides, you must have moonlight for your +picture. And the moon won't last."</p> + +<p>"My picture!" He pressed her suddenly closer. "Do you know what my +picture is going to be?"</p> + +<p>"Tell me!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Shall I?" He turned gently her face up to his own. "Shall I? Dare I?"</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes wide—those glorious, trusting eyes. "But why +should you be afraid to tell me?"</p> + +<p>He laughed again softly, and kissed her lips. "I will make a rough +sketch in the morning and show it you. It won't be a study—only an +idea. You are going to pose for the study."</p> + +<p>"I?" she said, half-startled.</p> + +<p>"You—yes, you!" His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Haven't you realised +yet that you are my inspiration?" he said. "It is going to be the +picture of my life—'Aphrodite the Beautiful!'"</p> + +<p>She quivered afresh at his words. "Am I really—so beautiful?" she +faltered. "Would you think so if—if you didn't love me?"</p> + +<p>"Would I have loved you if you weren't?" laughed Knight. "My darling, +you are exquisite as a passion-flower grown in Paradise. To worship you +is as natural to me as breathing. You are heaven on earth to me."</p> + +<p>"You love me—because of that?"</p> + +<p>"I love you," he answered, "soul and body, because you are you. There is +no other reason, heart of my heart. When my picture of pictures is +painted, then—perhaps—you will see yourself as I see you—and +understand."</p> + +<p>She uttered a quick sigh, clinging to him with a hold that was almost +convulsive. "Ah, yes! To see myself with your eyes! I want that. I shall +know then—how much you love me."</p> + +<p>"Will you? But will you?" he said, softly derisive. "You will have to +show me yourself and your love—all there is of it—before you can do +that."</p> + +<p>She lifted her head from his shoulder. The fire that he had kindled in +her soul was burning in her eyes. "I am all yours—all yours," she told +him passionately. "All that I have to offer is your own."</p> + +<p>His face changed a little. The tender mockery passed, and an expression +that was oddly out of place there succeeded it. "Ah, you shouldn't tell +me that, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was low and held a touch of +pain. "I might be tempted to take too much—more than I have any right +to take."</p> + +<p>"You have a right to all," she said.</p> + +<p>But he shook his head. "No—no! You are too young."</p> + +<p>"Too young to love?" she said, with quick scorn.</p> + +<p>His arm was close about her. "No," he answered soberly. "Only so young +that you may—possibly—make the mistake of loving too well."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Her voice had a startled note; she pressed nearer to +him.</p> + +<p>He lifted a hand and pointed to the silver pathway on the sea. "I mean +that love is just moonshine—just moonshine; the dream of a night that +passes."</p> + +<p>"Not in a night!" she cried, and there was anguish in the words.</p> + +<p>He bent again swiftly and kissed her lips. "No, not in a night, +sweetheart. Not even in two. But at last—at last—<i>tout passe</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Then it isn't love!" she said with conviction.</p> + +<p>He snapped his fingers at the moonlight with a gesture half-humorous, +yet half-defiant. "It is life," he said, "and the irony of life. Don't +be too generous, my queen of the sea! Give me what I ask—of your +graciousness! But—don't offer me more! Perhaps I might take it, and +then—"</p> + +<p>He turned with the words, as if the sentence were ended, and Columbine +went with him, bewildered but too deeply fascinated to feel any serious +misgiving. She did not ask for any further explanation, something about +him restrained her. But she knew no doubt, and when he halted in the +shadow of the deserted quay and took her face once more between his +hands with the one word, "Tomorrow!" she lifted eyes of perfect trust to +his and answered simply, "Yes, tomorrow!"</p> + +<p>And the rapture of his kisses was all-sufficing. She carried away with +her no other memory but that.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_V'></a><h3>CHAPTER V</h3> + +<h3>MIDSUMMER MORNING</h3> + +<br /> +<p>It was two mornings later, very early on Midsummer Day, that Rufus the +Red, looking like a Viking in the crystal atmosphere of sky and sea, +rowed the stranger with great, swinging strokes through the fishing +fleet right out into the burning splendour of the sun. Knight had +entered the boat in the belief that he was going to see something of the +raising of the nets. But it became apparent very soon that Rufus had +other plans for his entertainment, for he passed his father by with no +more than a jerk of the head, which Adam evidently interpreted as a sign +of farewell rather than of greeting, and rowed on without a pause.</p> + +<p>Knight, with his sketch-book beside him, sat in the stern. He had never +taken much interest in Rufus before; but now, seated facing him, with +the giant muscles and grim, unresponsive countenance of the man +perpetually before his eyes, the selecting genius in him awoke and began +to appraise.</p> + +<p>Rufus wore a grey flannel shirt, open at the neck, displaying a broad +red chest, immensely powerful, with a bull-like strength that every +swing of the oars brought into prominence. He had not the appearance of +exerting himself unduly, albeit he was pulling in choppy water against +the tide.</p> + +<p>His blue eyes gazed ever straight at the shore he was leaving. He seemed +so withdrawn into himself as to be oblivious of the fact that he was not +alone. Knight watched him, wondering if any thoughts were stirring in +the slow brain behind that massive forehead. Columbine had declared that +the man was an oaf, and he felt inclined to agree with her. And yet +there was something in the intensity of the fellow's eyes that held his +attention, the possibility of the actual existence of an unknown element +that did not fit into that conception of him. They were not the eyes of +a mere animal. There was no vagueness in their utter stillness. Rather +had they the look of a man who waits.</p> + +<p>Curiosity began to stir within him. He wondered if by judicious probing +he could penetrate the wall of aloofness with which his companion seemed +to be surrounded. It would be interesting to know if the fellow really +possessed any individuality.</p> + +<p>Airily he broke the silence. "Are you going to take me straight into the +temple of the sun? I thought I was out to see the fishing."</p> + +<p>The remote blue eyes came back as it were out of the far distance and +found him. There came to Knight an odd, wholly unwonted, sensation of +smallness. He felt curiously like a pigmy disturbing the meditations of +a giant.</p> + +<p>Rufus looked at him for several seconds of uninterrupted rowing before, +in his deep, resounding voice, he spoke. "They won't be taking up the +nets for a goodish while yet. We shall be back in time."</p> + +<p>"The idea is to give me a run for my money first, eh?" inquired Knight +pleasantly.</p> + +<p>He had not anticipated the sudden fall of the red brows that greeted his +words. He felt as if he had inadvertently trodden upon a match.</p> + +<p>"No," said Rufus slowly, speaking with a strangely careful accent, as if +his mind were concentrated upon being absolutely intelligible to his +listener. "That was not my idea."</p> + +<p>The spirit of adventure awoke in Knight. There was something behind this +granite calmness of demeanour then. He determined to draw it forth, even +though he struck further sparks in the process.</p> + +<p>"No?" he said carelessly. "Then why this pleasure trip? Did you bring me +out here just to show me—the 'Pit of the Burning'?"</p> + +<p>His eyes were upon the dazzling glory of the newly risen sun as he threw +the question. Rufus's massive head and shoulders were strongly outlined +against it. He had ceased to row, but the boat still shot forward, +impelled by the last powerful sweep of the oars, the water streaming +past in a rush of foam.</p> + +<p>Slowly, like the hammer-strokes of a deep-toned bell, came Rufus's voice +in answer. "It wasn't to show you anything I brought you here. It was +just to tell you something."</p> + +<p>"Really?" Knight's interest was thoroughly aroused. He became alert to +the finger-tips. There was something in the deliberate utterance that +conveyed a sense of danger. A wary gleam shone in his eyes under their +level brows. It was one of his principles when dealing with an uncertain +situation never to betray surprise. "And what may this valuable piece of +information be?" he inquired, with a smile.</p> + +<p>Rufus shipped his oars steadily, gravely, with purpose. "I saw you cross +the quicksand last night," he said.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" Knight's voice was of the most casual quality. He was feeling +for his cigarette-case.</p> + +<p>Rufus continued heavily, fatefully, gathering force with every word, as +a loosened rock beginning to roll down a mountain side. "The light was +bad. It was a tomfool thing to do. And Columbine was with you."</p> + +<p>Knight raised his shoulders ever so slightly. "Or rather—I was with +her. Miss Columbine knows the lie of the quicksand. I—do not."</p> + +<p>Rufus went on as if he had not spoken. "There's danger all along that +beach as far as the Spear Point. Adam will tell you the same. When it's +a spring tide there's times when there's such a swell that it's round +the Point and over the pool like a tidal wave. You'll hear the +bell-buoy tolling when there's a swell like that. We call it the Death +Current hereabouts, because there's nothing could live in it, and the +bell always tolls. And once it comes up like that the way to the +cliff-path is under water in less than thirty seconds. And the quicksand +is the only chance left." He paused; it was as if the rock halted for a +moment on the edge of the precipice before plunging finally into the +abyss of silence below. "When there's a ground swell," he said, "the +quicksand will pull a man down quicker than hell. And there's no +one—not Adam himself—can tell the lay of it for certain when the light +is bad."</p> + +<p>His mouth closed upon the words like the snap of a strong spring. Knight +waited for more, but none came. Whatever the thought behind the warning +that he had just uttered it was evident that Rufus had no intention of +giving it expression. He had uttered the girl's name with no more +emotion than that of his father, but it seemed to Knight that by that +very fact he had managed to convey a warning more potent than any that +had followed. Otherwise he would scarcely have taken the trouble to +mention her. The possibility of subtlety in this great, slow-speaking +giant piqued him to a keener interest. He resolved to probe a little +deeper.</p> + +<p>"Miss Columbine is a very reliable guide," he remarked. "If you and Adam +have been her instructors in shore-craft, she does you credit."</p> + +<p>His remark went into utter silence. Rufus, with huge hands loosely +clasped between his knees, appeared to be engrossed in watching the +progress of the boat as she drifted gently on the rising tide. His face +was utterly blank of expression, unless a certain grim fixity could be +described as such.</p> + +<p>Knight became slightly exasperated. Was the fellow no more than the fool +Columbine believed him to be after all? He determined to settle this +question once and for all at a single stroke.</p> + +<p>"I suppose she has all you fellows at Spear Point at her feet?" he said, +with an easy smile. "But I hope you are all too large-minded to grudge a +poor artist the biggest find that has ever come his way."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, but the burning blue eyes were no longer fixed upon +the sparkling ripples through which they had travelled. They were turned +upon Knight's face, searching, piercing, intent. Before he spoke again, +Knight's doubt as to the existence of a brain behind the massive brow +was fully set at rest.</p> + +<p>"There is another thing I have to say," said Rufus.</p> + +<p>Knight's smile broadened encouragingly. "By all means let us hear it!" +he said.</p> + +<p>Rufus proceeded. "You speak of Columbine as if she were just a bit of +amber or such-like as you'd found on the shore and picked up and put in +your pocket. You speak as if she's your property to do what you like +with. That's just what she is not. You're making love to her. I know +it. I seen it. And it's got to stop."</p> + +<p>He spoke with blunt force; his hands were suddenly locked upon each +other in a hard grip.</p> + +<p>Knight lifted his shoulders; his smile had become whimsical. He had +drawn the fellow at last. "I thought you'd seen something," he remarked, +"by your way. But who could help making love to a girl with a face like +that? It would take a heart of stone to resist it. Why, even you"—and +his look challenged Rufus with careless derision—"even you have fallen +to that temptation before now, or I'm much mistaken. But I gather that +your attentions did not meet with a very favourable response."</p> + +<p>He was baiting the animal now, taunting him, with the semi-humorous +malice of the mischievous schoolboy. He had no particular grudge against +Rufus, but he had a lively desire to see him squirm.</p> + +<p>But this desire was not to be gratified. Rufus met the thrust without +the faintest hint of feeling.</p> + +<p>"What you think," he said, in his weighty fashion, "has nothing to do +with me. What you do is all that matters. And I tell you straight"—a +blue flame suddenly leapt up like a volcanic light in the sombre +eyes—"that no man that hasn't honest intentions by her is going to make +love to Columbine."</p> + +<p>"Great Jove!" mocked Knight, with his careless laugh. "And who told you, +most worthy swain, what my intentions were?"</p> + +<p>Rufus leaned towards him slowly, with something of the action of a +crouching beast. "No one told me," he said in a voice that was deeply +menacing. "But—I know."</p> + +<p>Knight made a gesture of supreme indifference. "You are on an entirely +wrong scent," he observed. "But you seem to be enjoying it." He paused +to take out a cigarette. "Have a smoke!" he suggested after a moment, +proffering his case.</p> + +<p>Rufus did not so much as see it. His whole attitude was one of strain, +as if he barely held himself back from springing at the other's throat.</p> + +<p>Knight, however, was elaborately unconscious of any tension. He smiled +and closed his cigarette case. Then with the utmost deliberation he +searched for his matches, found them, and lighted his cigarette.</p> + +<p>Having puffed forth the first deep breath with luxurious enjoyment, he +spoke again. "It is a little difficult to get a man of your stamp to +comprehend the fact that an artist—a true artist—is not one to be +greatly drawn by the grosser things of life, more especially when he is +in ardent pursuit of that elusive flame called inspiration. But you +would hardly grasp a condition in which the body—and the impulses of +the body—are in complete subjection to the aspirations of the mind. +You"—he blew forth a cloud of smoke—"are probably incapable of +realizing that the worship of beauty can be of so purely artistic a +nature as to be practically free from the physical element, certainly +independent of it. I am taking you out of your depth, I know, but it is +hard to make myself clear to an untrained mind. I might try a homely +simile and suggest to you that you go a-fishing, not for love of the +fish, but because it is your profession; but that does not wholly +illustrate my meaning, for I love everything in the way of beauty that +comes my way. I follow beauty like a guiding star. And sometimes—but +seldom, oh, very seldom"—a sudden odd thrill sounded in his voice as if +by accident some hidden string had been struck and set vibrating—"I +fulfil my desire—I realise my dream—I grasp and hold a spark of the +Divine." He paused again, his face to the gold of the dawn and in his +eyes the far-off rapture of one who watches some soaring flight of +fancy. Then abruptly, lightly, he resumed his normal, half-quizzing +demeanour. "Doubtless I weary you," he said. "But you mustn't run away +with the idea that I am in love because I feel myself inspired. It may +sound callous to you, but if Miss Columbine were to lose her exquisite +beauty (which heaven forbid!) I should never voluntarily look upon her +again. That I take it, is the test of love, which, we are told, is blind +to all defects."</p> + +<p>He ceased to speak, and carelessly, yet with obvious enjoyment, he sent +forth another cloud of smoke into the crystal air of the morning.</p> + +<p>He was not looking at Rufus. It was abundantly evident that he had not +realised how near to open violence the young fisherman had been. His +nonchalant explanation was plainly all-sufficing in his own opinion, +and during the very marked silence that followed he displayed no +faintest hint of anxiety or even interest as to the fashion of its +reception.</p> + +<p>The boat was rocking lightly on the swell; the sea all around was +flooded with gold. The great jagged outline of the Spear Point looked +like the castle of a dream. The haze of the newly risen sun had touched +with magic all the world. Knight's eyes were half-closed. He had the +look of a man at peace with himself.</p> + +<p>And Rufus relaxed. The tension went out of his attitude; the volcanic +fires died down. For half a minute or more he sat absolutely passive. +Then slowly, with massive deliberation, he moved, unshipped the oars, +and bent himself to pull. In another ten seconds the boat was rushing +through the water under the compulsion of his powerful strokes, heading +straight for the boats of the fishing fleet that dotted the bay....</p> + +<p>It must have been fully a quarter of an hour later that Knight, having +finished his cigarette, came out of his reverie.</p> + +<p>"And so, you see," he remarked in the tone of one pleasantly rounding +off a conversation, "until my picture is painted I remain the slave of +my dream. I wonder if I have succeeded at all in making myself +intelligible."</p> + +<p>His eyes opened lazily and met Rufus's sombre gaze; they held a laughing +challenge, the easy challenge of the practised fencer who condescends +to try a bout with ignorance.</p> + +<p>Stolidly Rufus met the look. If he realised the challenge he did not +accept it. He had barred himself in once more behind an impenetrable +wall of unresponsiveness. His gaze was once more obscure and bovine. All +hint of violence was gone from his bearing. Only solid force +remained—the force that drove the boat strongly, unerringly, through +the golden-crested waves.</p> + +<p>"If you're going to do a picture of Columbine," he said slowly, "I hope +it'll be a good one."</p> + +<p>"It will probably be—great," said Knight, and flicked some ash from his +sleeve with the complacent air of a man who has accomplished his +purpose.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI'></a><h3>CHAPTER VI</h3> + +<h3>THE MIDSUMMER MOON</h3> + +<br /> +<p>It was very late that night, just as the first long rays of a full moon +streamed across a dreaming sea, that the door that led out of the +conservatory at The Ship softly opened, and a slim figure, clad in a +long, dark garment, flitted forth. Neither to right nor left did it +glance, but, closing the door without sound, slipped out over the grass +almost as if it moved on wings, and so down to the beach-path that wound +steeply to the shore.</p> + +<p>The tide was rising with the moon; the roar of it swelled and sank like +the mighty breathing of a giant. The waters shone in the gathering light +in a vast silver shimmer almost too dazzling for the eye to endure. In +another hour it would be as light as day. A few dim clouds were floating +over the stars, filmy wisps that had escaped from the ragged edges of a +dark curtain that had veiled the sun before its time. The breeze that +had blown them free wandered far overhead; below, especially on the +shore, it was almost tropically warm, and no breath of air seemed to +stir.</p> + +<p>Swiftly went the flitting figure, like a brown moth drawn by the +glitter of the moonlight. There was no other living thing in sight.</p> + +<p>All the lights of Spear Point village had gone out long since. Rufus's +cottage, with its slip of garden on the shelf of the cliff, was no more +than a faint blur of white against the towering sandstone behind. No +light had shone there all the evening, for the daylight had not died +till ten, and he was often in bed at that hour. The fishing fleet would +be out again with the dawn if the weather held, or even earlier; and the +hours of sleep were precious.</p> + +<p>Down on the rocks on the edge of the sleeping pool a grey shadow lurked +amidst darker shadows. A faint scent of cigarette smoke hung about the +silver beach—a drifting suggestion intangible as the magic of the +night.</p> + +<p>Could it have been this faint, floating fragrance that drew the flitting +brown moth by way of the quicksand, swiftly, swiftly, along the moonlit +shore travelling with mysterious certainty, irresistibly attracted? +There was no pause in its rapid progress, though the course it followed +was tortuous. It pursued, with absolute confidence, an invisible, +winding path. And ever the roar of the sea grew louder and louder.</p> + +<p>Across the pool, carved in the blackness of the outstretched curving +scimitar of rock, there was a ledge, washed smooth by every tide, but a +foot or more above the water when the tide was out. It was inaccessible +save by way of the pool itself, and yet it had the look of a pathway cut +in the face of the Spear Point Rock. The moonlight gleamed upon its wet +surface. In the very centre of the great curving rock there was a deeper +darkness that might have been a cave.</p> + +<p>It must have been after midnight when the little brown figure that had +flitted so securely through the quicksand came with its noiseless feet +over the tumble of rocks that lay about the pool, and the shadow that +lurked in the shadows rose up and became a man.</p> + +<p>They met on the edge of the pool, but there was about the lesser form a +hesitancy of movement, a shyness, almost a wildness, that seemed as if +it would end in flight.</p> + +<p>But the man remained quite motionless, and in a moment or two the +impulse passed or was controlled. Two quivering hands came forth to him +as if in supplication.</p> + +<p>"So you are waiting!" a low voice said.</p> + +<p>He took the hands, bending to her. The moonlight made his eyes gleam +with a strange intensity.</p> + +<p>"I have been waiting a long time," he said.</p> + +<p>Even then she made a small, fluttering movement backward, as if she +would evade him. And then with a sharp sob she conquered her reluctance +again. She gave herself into his arms.</p> + +<p>He held her closely, passionately. He kissed her face, her neck, her +bosom, as if he would devour the sweetness of her in a few mad moments +of utter abandonment.</p> + +<p>But in a little he checked himself. "You are so late, sweetheart. The +tide won't wait for us. There will be time for this—afterwards."</p> + +<p>She lay burning and quivering against his heart. "There is tomorrow," +she whispered, clinging to him.</p> + +<p>He kissed her again. "Yes, there is tomorrow. But who can tell what may +happen then? There will never be such a night as this again, sweet. See +the light against that rock! It is a marvel of black and white, and I +swear that the pool is green. There is magic abroad tonight. Let me +catch it! Let me catch it! Afterwards!—when the tide comes up—we will +drink our fill of love."</p> + +<p>He spoke as if urged by strong excitement, and having spoken his arms +relaxed. But she clung to him still.</p> + +<p>"Oh, darling, I am frightened—I am frightened! I couldn't come sooner. +I had a feeling—of being watched. I nearly—very nearly—didn't come at +all. And now I am here—I feel—I feel—afraid."</p> + +<p>He bent his face to hers again. His hand rested lightly, reassuringly +upon her head. "No, no! There is nothing to frighten you, my +passion-flower. If you had only come to me sooner it would have made it +easier for you. But now there is no time." The soothing note in his +voice sounded oddly strained, as though an undernote of fever throbbed +below it. "You're not going to fail me," he urged softly. "Think how +much it means to you—to me! And there is only half an hour left, dear. +Give me that half-hour to catch the magic! Then—when the tide comes +up"—his voice sank, he whispered deeply into her ear—"I will teach you +the greatest magic this old world knows."</p> + +<p>She thrilled at his words, thrilled through her trembling. She lifted +her face to the moonlight. "I love you!" she said. "Oh, I love you!"</p> + +<p>"And you will do this one thing for me?" he urged.</p> + +<p>She threw her arms wide. "I would die for you," she told him +passionately.</p> + +<p>A moment she stood so, then with a swift movement that had in it +something of fierce surrender she sprang away from him on to the flat +rock above the pool where but two nights before the gates of love's +wonderland had first opened to her.</p> + +<p>Here for a second she stood, motionless it seemed. And then strangely, +amazingly, she moved again. The brown garment slipped from her, and like +a streak of light, she was gone, and the still pool received her with a +rippling splash as of fairy laughter.</p> + +<p>The man on the brink drew a short, hard breath, and put his hand to his +eyes as if dazed. And from beyond the Spear Point there sounded the deep +tolling of the bell-buoy as it rocked on the rising tide.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VII</h3> + +<h3>THE DEATH CURRENT</h3> + +<br /> +<p>The pool was still again, still as a sheet of glass, reflecting the +midnight glory of the moon. It was climbing high in the sky, and the +cloud-wreaths were mounting towards it as incense smoke from an altar. +The thick, black curtain that hung in the west was growing like a +monstrous shadow, threatening to overspread the whole earth.</p> + +<p>Down on the silver beach, crouched on one of the rocks that bordered the +shining pool, Knight worked with fevered intensity to catch the magic of +the hour. The light was wonderful. The pool shone strangely, deeply +green; the rocks about it might have been delicately carved in ivory. +And across the pool, clear-cut against the utter darkness of the Spear +Point Rock, stood Aphrodite the Beautiful, clad in some green +translucent draperies, her black hair loose about her, her white arms +outstretched to the moonlight, her face—exquisite as a flower—upturned +to meet the glory. She was like a dream too wonderful to be true, save +for the passion that lived in her eyes. That was vivid, that was +poignant—the fire of sacrifice burning inwardly.</p> + +<p>The man worked on as one driven by a ruthless force. His teeth were +clenched upon his lower lip. His hands were shaking, and yet he knew +that what he did was too superb for criticism. It was the work of +genius—the driving force within that would not let him pause to listen +to the wild urgings of his heart. That might come after. But this—this +power that compelled was supreme. While it gripped him he was not his +own master. He was, as he himself had said, a slave.</p> + +<p>And while he worked at its behest, watching the wonderful thing that +inspiration was weaving by his hand, scarcely conscious of effort, +though the perspiration was streaming down his face, he whispered over +and over between his clenched teeth the title of the picture that was to +astonish the world—"The Goddess Veiled in Foam."</p> + +<p>There was no foam as yet on the pool, but he remembered how two nights +before he had seen the breaking of the first wave that had turned it +into a seething cauldron of surf. That was what he wanted now—just the +first great wave washing over her exquisite feet and flinging its +garment of spray like a flimsy veil over her perfect form. He wanted +that as he wanted nothing else on earth. And then—then—he would catch +his dream, he would chain for ever the fairy vision that might never be +granted again.</p> + +<p>There came a boom like a distant gunshot on the other side of the Spear +Point Rock, and again, but very far away, there sounded the tolling of +the bell beyond the reef. The man's heart gave a great leap. It was +coming!</p> + +<p>In the same moment the girl's voice came to him across the pool, +mingling with the rushing of great waters.</p> + +<p>"The tide is coming up fast. It won't be safe much longer."</p> + +<p>"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried back almost frantically. "It is +absolutely safe. I will swim across and help you if you are afraid. But +wait—wait just a few moments more!"</p> + +<p>She did not urge him. Her surrender had been too complete. Perhaps his +promise reassured her, or perhaps she did not fully realise the danger. +She waited motionless and the man worked on.</p> + +<p>Again there came that sound that was like the report of a distant gun, +and the roaring of the sea swelled to tumult.</p> + +<p>"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried again.</p> + +<p>But she could not have heard him in the overwhelming rush of the sea.</p> + +<p>There came a sudden dimness. A cloud had drifted over the moon, and +Knight looked up and cursed it with furious impatience. It passed, and +he saw her again—his vision, the goddess of his dream, still as the +rock behind her, yet splendidly alive. He bent himself again to his +work. Would that wave never come to veil her in sparkling raiment of +foam?</p> + +<p>Ah! At last! The peace of the pool was shattered. A shining wave, +curved, green, transparent, gleamed round the corner, ran, swift as a +flame, along the rock, and broke with a thunderous roar in a torrent of +snow-white surf. In a moment the pool was a seething tumult of water, +and in that moment Knight saw his goddess as the artist in him had +yearned to see her, her beauty half-veiled and half-revealed in a +shimmering robe of foam.</p> + +<p>The vision vanished. Another cloud had drifted over the moon. Only the +swirling water remained.</p> + +<p>Again he lifted his head to curse the fate that baffled him, and as he +did so a hand came suddenly from the darkness behind and gripped him by +the shoulder. A voice that was like the angry bellow of a bull roared in +his ear.</p> + +<p>What it said he did not hear; so amazed was he by the utter +unexpectedness of the attack. Before he had time to realise what was +happening, he was shaken with furious force and flung aside. He +fell—and his precious work fell with him—on the very edge of that +swirling pool....</p> + +<p>Seconds later, when the moon gleamed out again, he was still frantically +groping for it on the stones. The roar of the sea was terrible and +imminent, like the roar of a destroying monster racing upon its prey, +and from the caves there came a hollow groaning as of chained spirits +under the earth.</p> + +<p>The light flashed away again just as he spied his treasure on the brink +of the dashing water. He sprang to save it, intent upon naught else; +but in that instant there came a roar such as he had not heard before—a +sound so compelling, so nerve-shattering, that even he was arrested, +entrapped as it were by a horror of crashing elements that made him +wonder if all the fiends in hell were fighting for his soul. And, as he +paused, the swirl of a great wave caught him in the darkness like the +blow of a concrete thing, nearly flinging him backwards. He staggered, +for the first time stricken with fear, and then in the howling uproar of +that dreadful place there came to him like a searchlight wheeling +inwards the thought of the girl. The water receded from him, leaving him +drenched, almost dazed, but a voice within—an urgent, insistent +voice—clamoured that his safety was at stake, his life a matter of mere +moments if he lingered. This was the Death Current of which Rufus had +warned him only that afternoon. Had not the bell-buoy been tolling to +deaf ears for some time past? The Death Current that came like a tidal +wave! And nothing could live in it. The girl—surely the girl had been +washed off her ledge and overwhelmed in the flood before it had reached +him. Possibly Rufus would manage to save her, for that it was Rufus who +had so savagely sprung upon him he had no doubt; but he himself was +powerless. If he saved his own life it would be by a miracle. Had not +the fellow warned him that retreat by way of the cliff-path would be cut +off in thirty seconds when the tide raced up like that? And if he failed +to reach that, only the quicksand was left—the quicksand that dragged +a man down quicker than hell!</p> + +<p>He set his teeth and turned his face to the cliff. A light was shining +half-way up it—that must come from the window of Rufus's cottage. He +took it as a beacon, and began to stumble through the howling darkness +towards it. He knew the cliff-path. He had come down it only that night +to make sure that there was no one spying upon them. The cottage had +been shut and dark then, the little garden empty. He had concluded that +Rufus had gone early to rest after a long day with the nets, and had +passed on securely to wait for Columbine on the edge of their magic +pool. But what he did not know was exactly where the cliff-path ran out +on to the beach. The opening was close to the Caves and sheltered by +rocks. Could he find it in this infernal darkness? Could he ever make +his way to it in time? With the waves crashing behind him he struggled +desperately towards the blackness of the cliffs.</p> + +<p>The rocks under his feet were wet and slippery. He fought his way over +them, feeling as if a hundred demons were in league to hold him back. +The swirl of the incoming tide sounded in his ears like a monstrous +chant of death. Again and again he slipped and fell, and yet again he +dragged himself up, grimly determined to fight the desperate battle to +the last gasp. The thought of Columbine had gone wholly from him, even +as the thought of his lost treasure. Only the elemental desire of life +gripped him, vital and urgent, forcing him to the greatest physical +effort he had ever made. He went like a goaded animal, savage, stubborn, +fiercely surmounting every obstacle, driven not so much by fear as by a +furious determination to frustrate the fate that menaced him.</p> + +<p>It must have been nearly a minute later that the moon shone forth again, +throwing gleaming streaks of brightness upon the mighty breakers that +had swallowed the magic pool. They were riding in past the Spear Point +in majestic and unending procession, and the rocks that surrounded the +pool were already deeply covered. The surf of one great wave was rushing +over the beach to the Caves, and the spray of it blew over Knight, +drenching him from head to foot. Desperately, by that passing gleam of +moonlight, he searched for the opening of the path, the foam of the +oncoming procession already swirling about his feet. He spied it +suddenly at length, and in the same instant something within him—could +it have been his heart?—dropped abruptly like a loosened weight to the +very depths of his being. The way of escape in that direction was +already cut off. In the darkness he had not taken a straight course, and +it was too late.</p> + +<p>Wildly he turned—like a hunted animal seeking refuge. With great leaps +and gigantic effort, he made for the open beach. He reached it, reached +the loose dry sand so soon to be covered by the roaring tumult of great +waters. His eyes glared out over the level stretch that intervened +between the Spear Point Rock and the harbour quay. The tide would not be +over it yet.</p> + +<p>He flung his last defiance to the fate that relentlessly hunted him as +he took the only alternative, and set himself to traverse the way of the +quicksand—that dragged a man down quicker than hell.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a><h3>CHAPTER VIII</h3> + +<h3>THE BOON</h3> + +<br /> +<p>Someone was mounting the steep cliff-path that led to Rufus's cottage—a +man, square-built and powerful, who carried a burden. The moon shone +dimly upon his progress through a veil of drifting cloud. He was +streaming with water at every step, but he moved as if his drenched +clothing were in no way a hindrance—steadily, strongly, with stubborn +fixity of purpose. The burden he carried hung limply in his arms, and +over his shoulder there drifted a heavy mass of wet, black hair.</p> + +<p>He came at length on his firm, bare feet to the little gate that led to +the lonely cottage, and, without pausing, passed through. The cottage +door was ajar. He pushed it back and entered, closing it, even as he did +so, with a backward fling of the heel. Then, in the tiny living-room, by +the light of the lamp that shone in the window, he laid his burden down.</p> + +<p>White and cold, she lay with closed eyes upon the little sofa, +motionless and beautiful as a statue recumbent upon a tomb, her drenched +draperies clinging about her. He stood for a second looking upon her; +then, still with the absolute steadiness of set purpose, he turned and +went into the inner room.</p> + +<p>He came back with a blanket, and stooping, he lifted the limp form and, +with a certain deftness that seemed a part of his immovable resolution, +he wrapped it in the rough grey folds.</p> + +<p>It was while he was doing this that a sudden sigh came from between the +parted lips, and the closed eyes flashed open.</p> + +<p>They gazed upon him in bewilderment, but he continued his ministrations +with grim persistence and an almost bovine expression of countenance. +Only when two hands came quivering out of the enveloping blanket and +pushed him desperately away did he desist. He straightened himself then +and turned away.</p> + +<p>"You'll be—all right," he said in his deep voice.</p> + +<p>Then Columbine started up on her elbow, clutching wildly at the blanket, +drawing it close about her. The cold stillness of her was gone, as +though a sudden flame had scorched her. Her face, her neck, her whole +body were burning, burning.</p> + +<p>"What—what happened?" she gasped. "You—why have you brought me—here?"</p> + +<p>He did not look at her.</p> + +<p>"It was the nearest place," he said. "The Death Current caught you, and +you were stunned. I got you out."</p> + +<p>"You—got me—out!" she repeated, saying the words slowly as if she +were teaching herself a lesson.</p> + +<p>He nodded his great head.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I came up in time. I saw what would happen. There's often a tidal +wave about now. I thought you knew that—thought Adam would have told +you. He"—his voice suddenly went a tone deeper—"knew it. I told him +this morning."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" She uttered the word upon a swift intake of breath; her startled +eyes suddenly dilated. "Where is he?" she said.</p> + +<p>The man's huge frame stiffened at the question; she saw his hands +clench. But he kept his head turned from her; she could not see his +face. There followed a pause that seemed to her fevered imagination to +have something deadly in it. Then: "I hope he's gone where he belongs," +said Rufus, with terrible deliberation.</p> + +<p>Her cry of agony cut across his last word like the severing of a taut +string. She leapt to her feet, in that moment of anguish supremely +forgetful of self.</p> + +<p>"Rufus!" she cried, and wildly gripped his arm, "You've never—left +him—to be—killed!"</p> + +<p>She felt his muscles harden in grim resistance to her grasp. She saw +that his averted face was set like a stone mask.</p> + +<p>"It's none of my business," he said, speaking through rigid lips.</p> + +<p>She turned from him with a gasp of horror and sprang for the door. But +in an instant he wheeled, thrust out a great arm, and caught her. His +fingers closed upon her bare shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!" he said.</p> + +<p>She resisted him frantically, bending now this way, now that. But he +held her in spite of it, held her, and slowly brought her nearer to him.</p> + +<p>"Stand still!" he said.</p> + +<p>His voice came upon her like a blow. She flinched at the sound of +it—flinched and obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" she gasped out. "He—may be drowning—at this moment!"</p> + +<p>"Let him drown!" said Rufus.</p> + +<p>She lifted her tortured face in frenzied protest, but it died upon her +lips. For in that moment she met his eyes, and the blazing blue of them +made her feel as though spirit had been poured upon her flame, consuming +her. Words failed her utterly. She stood palpitating in his hold, not +breathing—a wild thing trapped.</p> + +<p>Slowly he bent towards her. "Let him drown!" he said again. "Do you +think I'm going to let you throw your life away for a cur like that?"</p> + +<p>There was uncloaked ferocity in the question. His hold was merciless.</p> + +<p>"I saved you," he said. "It wasn't especially easy. But I did it. For +the matter of that, I'd have gone through hell for you. And do you think +I'm going to let you go again—now?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer him. Only her lips moved stiffly, as though they +formed words she could not utter. She could not take her eyes from his, +though his looks seared her through and through.</p> + +<p>He went on, deeply, with gathering force. "He'd have let you be swept +away. He didn't care. All he wanted was to get you for his picture. That +was all he made love to you for. He'd have sacrificed you to the devil +for that. You don't believe me, maybe, but I know—I know!"</p> + +<p>There was savage certainty in the reiterated words, and the girl +recoiled from them, her face like death. But he held her still, +implacably, relentlessly.</p> + +<p>"That's all he wants of you," he said. "To use you for his purpose, and +then—to throw you aside. Why"—and he suddenly showed his clenched +teeth—"he dared—damn him!—he dared to tell me so!"</p> + +<p>"He—told you!" Her lips spoke the words at last, but they seemed to +come from a long way off.</p> + +<p>"Yes." With suppressed violence he answered her. "He didn't put it that +way—being a gentleman! But he took care to make me understand that he +only wanted you for the sake of his accursed picture. That's the only +thing that counts with him, and he's the sort not to care what he does +to get it. He wouldn't have got you—like this—if he hadn't made you +love him first. I know that too—as well as if you'd told me."</p> + +<p>The passion in his voice was rising, and it was as if the heat of it +rekindled her animation. With a jerky movement she flung up both her +hands, grasping tensely the arms that held her so rigidly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I love him!" she said, and her voice rang wildly. "I love him! I +don't care what he is! Rufus—Rufus—oh, for the love of Heaven, don't +let him drown!" The words rushed out desperately; it was as if her whole +nature, all her pride, all her courage, were flung into that frantic +appeal. She clung to the man with straining entreaty. "Oh, go down and +save him!" she begged. "I'll do anything for you in return—anything you +like to ask! Only do this one thing for me! He may have escaped the +tide. If so, he'll try the quicksand, and he don't know the lie of it! +Rufus, you wouldn't want—your worst enemy—to die like that!"</p> + +<p>She broke off, wildly sobbing, yet still clinging to him in agonised +entreaty. The man's face, with its crude ferocity, the untamed glitter +of its fiery eyes, was still bent to hers, but she no longer shrank from +it. The power that moved her was too immense to be swayed by lesser +things. His attitude no longer affected her, one way or another. It had +ceased to count, so that she only wrenched from him this one great boon.</p> + +<p>And Rufus must have realised the fact, for he stood up sharply and +backed against the door, releasing her.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what you're saying," he said gruffly.</p> + +<p>"I do—I do!" With anguished reiteration she answered him. "I'm not the +sort that offers and then doesn't pay. Oh, don't waste time talking! +Every moment may be his last. Go down—go down to the shore! You're so +strong. Save him—save him!"</p> + +<p>She beat her clasped hands against his broad chest, till abruptly he put +up his own again and held them still.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!" For the second time he uttered her name, and for the second +time the command in his voice caught and compelled her. "Just you listen +a minute!" he said, and as he spoke his look swept her with a mastery +that dominated even her agony. "If I go and save the cur, you've done +with him for ever—you swear that?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Only go—only go!"</p> + +<p>But he remained square and resolute against the door. "And you'll stay +here—you swear to stay here till I come back?"</p> + +<p>"Yes!" she cried again.</p> + +<p>He bent to her once more; his gaze possessed her. "And—afterwards?" he +said, his voice deep and very low.</p> + +<p>Her eyes had been raised to his; they closed suddenly and sharply, as if +to shut him out. "I will give you—all I have," she said, and shivered, +violently, uncontrollably.</p> + +<p>The next instant his hands were gone from hers, and she was free.</p> + +<p>Trembling, she sank upon the sofa, hiding her face; and even as she did +so the banging of the cottage door told her he was gone.</p> + +<p>Thereafter she sat crouched for a long, long time in the paralysis of a +great fear.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX'></a><h3>CHAPTER IX</h3> + +<h3>THE VISION</h3> + +<br /> +<p>Down on the howling shore the great waves were hurling themselves in +vast cataracts of snow-white surf that shone, dimly radiant, in the +fitful moonlight. The sky was covered with broken clouds, and a rising +storm-wind blew in gusts along the cliffs. The peace of the night was +utterly shattered, the shining glory had departed. A wild and desolate +grandeur had succeeded it.</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder if there was some trouble tonight," said Adam, awaking +to the tumult.</p> + +<p>"Lor' bless you!" said Mrs. Peck sensibly. "Wait till it comes."</p> + +<p>The hint of impatience that marked her speech was not without reason, +for a gale was to Adam as the sound of a gun to a sporting-dog. It +invariably aroused him, even from the deepest slumber, to a state of +alert expectation that to a woman as hard-working as Mrs. Peck was most +exceptionally trying. When Adam scented disaster at sea there was no +peace for either. As she was wont to remark, being the wife of the +lifeboat coxswain wasn't all jam, not by any manner of means it wasn't. +She knew now, by the way Adam turned, and checked his breathing to +listen, that the final disturbance was not far off.</p> + +<p>She herself feigned sleep, possibly in the hope of provoking him to +consideration for her weariness; but she knew the effort to be quite +futile even as she made it. Adam the coxswain was considerate only for +those who might be in peril. At the next heavy gust that rattled the +windows he flung the bedclothes back without the smallest thought for +his companion's comfort, and tumbled on to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Just going to have a look round," he said. "I'll lay the fire in the +kitchen, and you be ready to light it in a jiffy if wanted!"</p> + +<p>That was so like Adam. He could think of nothing but possible victims of +the storm. Mrs. Peck sniffed, and gathered the bedclothes back about her +in expressive silence. It was quite useless to argue with Adam when he +got the jumps. Experience had taught her that long since. She could only +resume her broken rest and hope that it might not be again disturbed.</p> + +<p>Adam pulled on his clothes with his usual brisk deftness of movement and +went downstairs. The rising storm was calling him, and he could not be +deaf to the call. He had belonged to the lifeboat ever since he had come +to man's estate, and never a storm arose but he held himself ready for +service.</p> + +<p>His first, almost instinctive, action was to take the key of the +lifeboat house from its nail in the kitchen. Then, whistling cheerily +below his breath, he set about laying the fire. The kettles were +already filled. Mrs. Peck always saw to that before retiring. There was +milk in the pantry, brandy in the cupboard. According to invariable +custom, all was in readiness for any possible emergency, and having +satisfied himself that this was the case, he thrust his bare feet into +boots and went to the door.</p> + +<p>It had begun to rain. Great drops pattered down upon him as he emerged, +and he turned back to clap his sou'wester upon his head. Then, without +further preparation, he sallied forth.</p> + +<p>As he went down the road that ran to the quay a terrible streak of +lightning reft the dark sky, and the wild crash of thunder that followed +drowned even the roaring babel of the sea.</p> + +<p>It did not check his progress; he was never one to be easily daunted. It +was contrary to his very nature to seek shelter in a storm. He went +swinging on to the very edge of the quay, and there stood facing the +violence of the waves, the fierce turmoil of striving elements.</p> + +<p>The tide was extraordinarily high—such a tide as he believed he had +never seen before in summer. He stood in the pouring rain and looked +first one way, then the other, with a quick birdlike scrutiny, but as +far as his eyes could pierce he saw only an empty desolation of waters. +There seemed none in need of his help that night.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if Rufus is awake," he speculated to the angry tumult.</p> + +<p>Nearly three miles out from the Spear Point there was a lighthouse with +a revolving light. That light shone towards him now, casting a weird +radiance across the tossing water, and as if in accompaniment to the +warning gleam he heard the deep toll of the bell-buoy that rocked upon +the swell.</p> + +<p>Adam turned about. "I'll go and knock up Rufus," he decided. "It'd be a +shame to miss a night like this."</p> + +<p>Again the lightning rent the sky, and the whole great outline of the +Spear Point was revealed in one awful second of intolerable radiance. +Adam's keen eye chanced to be upon it, and he saw it in such detail as +the strongest sunlight could never have achieved. The brightness +dazzled, almost shocked him, but there was something besides the +brightness that sent an odd sensation through him—a curious, sick +feeling as if he had suddenly received a blow between the shoulders. For +in that fraction of time he had seen something which reason, clamouring +against the evidence of his senses, declared to be the impossible. He +had seen a human figure—the figure of his son—clinging to the naked +face of the rock, hanging between sea and sky where scarcely a bird +could have found foothold, while something—a grey, indistinguishable +burden—hung limp across his shoulder, weighing him down.</p> + +<p>The thunder was still rolling around him when with a great shake Adam +pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"I'm dreaming!" he told himself angrily. "A man couldn't ever climb the +Spear Point, let alone live on a ledge that wouldn't harbour a sea-gull +if he did. I'll go round to Rufus. I'll go round and knock him up."</p> + +<p>With the words he tramped off through the rushing rain, and leaving the +quay, struck upwards along the cliff in the direction of the narrow path +that ran down to Rufus's dwelling above the Spear Point Caves.</p> + +<p>Despite the spareness of his frame, he climbed the ascent with a +rapidity that made him gasp. The wind also was against him, blowing in +strong gusts, and the raging of the sea below was as the roaring of a +thousand torrents. The great waves boomed against the cliff far beyond +the summer watermark. They had long since covered the quicksand, and he +thought he felt the ground shake with the shock of them.</p> + +<p>He reached at length the gap in the cliff that led down to the cottage, +and here he paused; for the descent was sharp, and the light that still +filtered through the dense storm-clouds was very dim. But in a few +seconds another great flash lit up the whole wild scene. He saw again +the Spear Point Rock standing out, scimitar-like, in the sea. The water +was dashing all around it. It stood up, grim and unapproachable, the +great waves flinging their mighty clouds of spray over its stark summit. +But—possibly because he viewed it from above instead of from below—he +saw naught beside that grand and futile struggle of the elements.</p> + +<p>Reassured, he started in the rain and darkness down the twisting path +that led to his old home. He knew every foot of the way, but even so, he +stumbled once or twice in the gloom.</p> + +<p>The roaring of the sea sounded terribly near when finally he reached the +little garden-gate and caught the ray of the lamp in the window.</p> + +<p>Evidently it had awakened Rufus also. Almost unconsciously he quickened +his pace as he went up the path.</p> + +<p>He reached the door and fumbled for the latch; but ere he found it, it +was flung open, and a strange and tragic figure met him on the +threshold.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" cried a woman's voice. "It is you! Where—where is Rufus?"</p> + +<p>Adam's keen and birdlike eyes nearly leapt from his head. +"Why—Columbine?" he said.</p> + +<p>She was dressed in Rufus's suit of navy serge. It hung about her in +clumsy folds, and over her shoulders and about her snow-white throat her +glorious hair streamed like a black veil, still wet and shining in the +lamplight.</p> + +<p>She flung out her hands to him in piteous appeal. "Oh, Adam!" she said. +"Have you seen them? Have you seen Rufus? He went—he went an hour +ago—to save Mr. Knight from the quicksand!"</p> + +<p>Adam's quick brain leapt to instant activity. The girl's presence +baffled him, but it was no time for explanation. In some way she had +discovered Knight in danger, and had rushed to Rufus for help. +Then—then—that vision of his from the quay—that flash of +revelation—had been no dream, after all! He had seen Rufus indeed—and +probably for the last time in his life.</p> + +<p>He stood, struck dumb for the moment, recalling every detail of the +clinging figure that had hung above the leaping waves. Then the tragedy +in Columbine's face made him pull himself together once more. He took +her trembling hands.</p> + +<p>"It's no good, my girl," he said. "I seen him. Yes, I seen him. I didn't +believe my eyes, but I know now it was true. He was hanging on to a bit +of rock half-way up the Spear Point, and t'other chap was lying across +his shoulder. They've both been washed away by this, for the water's +still coming up. There's not the ghost of a chance for 'em. I say it +'cos I know—not the ghost of a chance!"</p> + +<p>A wild cry broke from the girl's lips. She wrenched her hands free and +beat them upon her breast. Then suddenly a burst of wild tears came to +her. She leaned against the cottage wall and sobbed in an agony that +possessed her, soul and body.</p> + +<p>Adam stood and looked at her. There was something terrible about the +abandonment of her grief. It made him feel that his own was almost +insignificant beside it. He had never seen any woman weep like that +before. The anguish of it went through his heart.</p> + +<p>He moved at length, laid a very gentle hand upon her shaking shoulder.</p> + +<p>"My girl—my girl!" he said. "Don't take on so! I never thought as you +cared a ha'p'orth for poor Rufus, though o' course I always knew as he +loved you like mad."</p> + +<p>She bowed herself lower under his hand. "And now I've killed him!" she +gasped forth inarticulately. "I've killed him!"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" protested Adam. "That ain't reasonable. Come, now—you're +distraught! You don't know what you're saying. My Rufus is a fine chap. +He'd take most any risk to save a life. He's got a big heart in him, and +he don't stop to count the cost."</p> + +<p>She uncovered her face sharply and looked at him, so that he clearly saw +the ravages that her distress had wrought. "That wasn't what made him +go," she said. "He wouldn't have gone but for me. It was I as made him +go. But I thought he'd be in time. I hoped he'd be in time." Her voice +rose wildly; she wrung her hands. "Oh, can't you do anything? Can't you +take out the lifeboat? There must be some way—surely there must be some +way—of saving them!"</p> + +<p>But Adam shook his head. "He's past our help," he said. "There's no boat +could live among them rocks in such a tide as this. We couldn't get +anywhere near. No—no, there's nothing we can do. The lad's gone—my +Rufus—finest chap along the shore, if he was my son. Never thought as +he'd go before me—never thought—never thought!"</p> + +<p>The loud roll of the waves filled the bitter silence that followed, but +the battering of the rain upon the cottage roof was decreasing. The +storm was no longer overhead.</p> + +<p>Adam leaned on the back of a chair with his head in his hands. All the +wiry activity seemed to have gone out of him. He looked old and broken.</p> + +<p>The girl stood motionless behind him. A strange impassivity had +succeeded her last fruitless appeal, as though through excess of +suffering her faculties were numbed, animation itself were suspended. +She leaned against the wall, staring with wide, tragic eyes at the flame +of the lamp that stood in the window. Her arms hung stiffly at her +sides, and the hands were clenched. She seemed to be gazing upon +unutterable things.</p> + +<p>There was nothing to be done—nothing to be done! Till the waves had +spent their fury, till that raging sea went down, they were as helpless +as babes to stay the hand of Fate. No boat could live in that fearful +turmoil of water. Adam had said it, and she knew that what he said was +true, knew by the utter dejection of his attitude, the completeness of +his despair. She had never seen Adam in despair before; probably no one +had ever seen him as he was now. He was a man to strain every nerve +while the faintest ray of hope remained. He had faced many a furious +storm, saved many a life that had been given up for lost by other men. +But now he could do nothing, and he crouched there—an old and broken +man—for the first time realising his helplessness.</p> + +<p>A long time passed. The only sound within the cottage was the ticking of +a grandfather-clock in a corner, while without the great sound of the +breaking seas filled all the world. The storm above had passed. Now the +thunder-blast no longer shook the cottage. A faint greyness had begun to +show beyond the lamp in the window. The dawn was drawing near.</p> + +<p>As one awaking from a trance of terrible visions, the girl drew a deep +breath and spoke:</p> + +<p>"Adam!"</p> + +<p>He did not stir. He had not stirred for the greater part of an hour.</p> + +<p>She made a curiously jerky movement, as if she wrenched herself free +from some constricting hold. She went to the bowed, despairing figure.</p> + +<p>"Adam, the day is breaking. The tide must be on the turn. Shan't we go?"</p> + +<p>He stood up with the gesture of an old man. "What's the good?" he said. +"Do you think I want to see my boy's dead body left behind by the sea?"</p> + +<p>She shivered at the question. "But we can't stay here," she urged. "Aunt +Liza, you know—she'll be wondering."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" He passed his hand over his eyes. He was swaying a little as he +stood. She supported his elbow, for he seemed to have lost control of +his limbs. He stared at her in a dazed way. "You'd better go and tell +your Aunt Liza," he said. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Maybe my +boy'll come and talk to me if I'm alone. We're partners, you know, and +we lived here a good many years alone together. He wouldn't leave +me—not for the long voyage—without a word. Yes, you go, my dear, you +go! I'll stay here and wait for him."</p> + +<p>She saw that no persuasion of hers would move him, and it seemed useless +to remain. An intolerable restlessness urged her, moreover, to be gone. +The awful inertia of the past two hours had turned into a fevered desire +for action. It was the swing of the pendulum, and she felt that if she +did not respond to it she would go mad.</p> + +<p>Her knees were still trembling under her, but she controlled them and +turned to the door. As she lifted the latch she looked back and saw Adam +drop heavily into the chair upon which he had leaned for so long. His +attitude was one of almost stubborn patience, but it was evident that +her presence had ceased to count with him. He was waiting—she saw it +clearly in every line of him—waiting to bid his boy Godspeed ere he +fared forth finally on the long voyage from which there is no return.</p> + +<p>A sharp sob rose in her throat. She caught her hand to it, forcing it +back. Then, barefooted, she stepped out into the grey dimness that +veiled all things, and left the door of Rufus's cottage open behind +her.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_X'></a><h3>CHAPTER X</h3> + +<h3>THE LONG VOYAGE</h3> + +<br /> +<p>She never remembered afterwards how she accomplished the homeward +journey. The rough stones cut her feet again and again, but she never +felt the pain. She went as one who has an urgent mission to perform, +though what that mission was she scarcely knew.</p> + +<p>The night—that night of dreadful tragedy—had changed her. Columbine, +the passionate, the impulsive had turned into a being that was foreign +to herself. All the happy girlhood had been stamped out of her as by the +cruel pressure of a hot iron. She had ceased to feel the agony of it; +somehow she did not think that she ever could feel pain again. The nerve +tissues had been destroyed and all vitality was gone. The creature that +passed like a swift shadow through the twilight of the dawn was an old +and withered woman who had lived beyond her allotted time.</p> + +<p>She reached the old Ship Inn, meeting no one. She entered by the door of +the conservatory through which she had flitted æons and æons before to +meet her lover. She went to her room and changed into her own clothes. +The suit that had belonged to Rufus so long ago she laid away with an +odd reverence, still scarcely knowing what she did, driven as it were by +a mechanism that worked without any volition of hers.</p> + +<p>Then she went to the glass and began to coil up her hair. It was dank +and heavy yet with the seawater, but she wound it about her head without +noticing. The light was growing, and she peered at herself with a +detached sort of curiosity, till something in her own eyes frightened +her, and she turned away.</p> + +<p>She went to the window and opened it wide. The sound of the sea yet +filled the world, but it was not so insistent as it had been. The waves, +though mountainous still, were gradually receding from the shore. It was +as though the dawn had come just in time to prevent the powers of +darkness from triumphing.</p> + +<p>She heard someone moving in the house and turned back into the room. +Aunt Liza must be told.</p> + +<p>Through the spectral dawnlight she went down the stairs and took her way +to the kitchen. The door stood half open; she heard the cheery crackling +of the newly lighted fire before she entered. And hearing it, she was +aware of a great coldness that clung like a chain, fettering her every +movement.</p> + +<p>Someone moved as she pushed open the door. An enormous shadow leaped +upon the wall like a fantastic monster of the deep. She recoiled for a +second, then, as if drawn against her will, she entered.</p> + +<p>By the ruddy glow of the fire she saw a man's broad-chested figure, she +saw the gleam of tawny hair above a thick bull-neck. He was bending +slightly over the fire at her entrance, but, hearing her, he turned. And +in that moment every numbed nerve in Columbine's body was pierced into +quivering life.</p> + +<p>She stood as one transfixed, and he stood motionless also in the +flickering light of the flames, gazing at her with eyes of awful blue +that were as burning spirit. But he spoke not a word—not a word. How +could a dead man speak?</p> + +<p>And as they stood thus, facing each other, the floor between them began +suddenly to heave, became a mass of seething billows that rocked her, +caught her, engulfed her. She went down into them, and as the tossing +darkness received her, her last thought was that Rufus had come back +indeed—not to say farewell, but to take her with him on the long +voyage from which there is no return....</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI'></a><h3>CHAPTER XI</h3> + +<h3>DEEP WATERS</h3> + +<br /> +<p>Wild white roses that grew in the sandy stubble above the shore, little +orange-scented roses that straggled through the grass—they called to +something that ran in Columbine's blood, they spoke to her of the South. +She was sure that she would find those roses all about her feet when she +came to the end of the long voyage. She would see their golden hearts +wide open to the sun. For their fragrance haunted her day by day as she +floated down the long glassy stretches and rocked on the waveless +swells.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she had a curious fancy that she was lying dead, and they had +strewn the sweet flowers all about her. She hoped that they might not be +buried with her; they were too beautiful for that.</p> + +<p>At other times she thought of them as a bridal wreath, purer than the +purest orange-blossom that ever decked a bride. Once, too—this was when +she was nearing the end of the voyage—there came to her a magic whiff +of wet bog-myrtle that made her fancy that she must be a bride indeed.</p> + +<p>At last, just when it seemed to her that her boat was gently grounding +upon the sand where the little white roses grew, she opened her eyes +widely, wonderingly, and realised that the voyage was over.</p> + +<p>She was lying in her own little room at The Ship, and Mrs. Peck, with +motherly kindness writ large on her comely, plump face, was bending over +her with a cup of steaming broth in her hand.</p> + +<p>Columbine gazed at her with a bewildered sense of having slept too long.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck nodded at her cheerily. "There, my dear! You're better, I can +see. A fine time you've given us. I thought as I should never see your +bright eyes again."</p> + +<p>Columbine put forth a trembling hand with a curious feeling that it did +not belong to her at all. "Have I been ill?" she said.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck nodded again cheerily. "Why, it's more than a week you've been +lying here, and how I have worrited about you! Prostration following +severe shock was what the doctor called it, but it looked to me more +like a touch of brain fever. But there, you're better! Drink this like a +good girl, and you'll feel better still!"</p> + +<p>Meekly, with the docility of great weakness, Columbine swallowed the +proffered nourishment. She wanted to recall all that had happened, but +her brain felt too clogged to serve her. She could only lie and gaze and +gaze at a little vase of wild white roses that faced her upon the +mantelpiece. Somehow those roses seemed to her to play an oddly +important part in her awakening.</p> + +<p>"Where did they come from?" she suddenly asked.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck glanced up indifferently. "They're just those little common +things that grow with the pinks on the cliff," she said.</p> + +<p>But that did not satisfy Columbine. "Who brought them in?" she said. +"Who gathered them?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck hesitated momentarily, almost as if she did not want to +answer. Then, half defiantly, "Why, Rufus, to be sure," she said.</p> + +<p>"Rufus!" A great hot wave of crimson suddenly suffused Columbine's +face—a pitiless, burning blush that spread tingling over her whole +body.</p> + +<p>She lay very still while it lasted, and Mrs. Peck set down the cup and, +rising energetically, began to tidy the room.</p> + +<p>At length, faintly, the girl spoke again: "Aunt Liza!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck turned. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look half +stern and yet half compassionate. "There, my dear, that'll do," she +said. "I think you've talked enough. The doctor said as I was to keep +you very quiet, especially when you began to get back your senses. Shut +your eyes, do, and go to sleep!"</p> + +<p>But Columbine's eyes remained open. "I'm not sleepy," she said. "And I +must speak to you. I want to know—I must know"—she faltered painfully, +but forced herself to continue—"Rufus—did he—did he really come +back—that night?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck's compassion perceptibly diminished and her severity +increased. "Oh, if you want the whole story," she said, "you'd better +have it and have done; that is, so far as I know it myself. There are +certain ins and outs that I don't know even yet, for Rufus can be very +secretive if he likes. Well then, yes, he did come back, and he brought +Mr. Knight with him. They were washed up by a great wave that dropped +'em high and dry near the quay. Mr. Knight was half drowned, and Rufus +left him at Sam Jefferson's cottage and came on here for brandy and hot +milk and such. He wasn't a penny the worse himself, but I suppose you +thought it was his ghost. You behaved like as if you did, anyway. That's +all I can tell you. Mr. Knight he got better in a day or two, and he's +gone, said he'd had enough of it, and I don't blame him neither. Now +that'll do for the present. By and by, when you're stronger, maybe I'll +ask you to tell me something. But the doctor says as I'm not to let you +talk at present."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck took up the empty cup with the words, and turned with decision +to the door.</p> + +<p>Columbine did not attempt to detain her. She had read the doubt in the +good woman's eyes, and she was thankful at that moment for the reprieve +that the doctor's fiat had secured her.</p> + +<p>She lay for a long, long time without moving after Mrs. Peck's +departure. Her brain felt unutterably weary, but it was clear, and she +was able to face the situation in all its grimness. Mr. Knight had +gone. Mr. Knight had had enough of it. Had he really left without a +word? Was she, then, so little to him as that? She, who had clung to +him, had offered him unconditionally and without stint all that was +hers!</p> + +<p>She remembered how he had said that it would not last, that love was +moonshine, love would pass. And how passionately—and withal how +fruitlessly!—had she revolted against that pronouncement of his! She +had declared that such was not love, and he—he had warned her against +loving too well, giving too freely. With cruel distinctness it all came +back to her. She felt again those hot kisses upon brow and lips and +throat. Though he had warned her against giving, he had not been slow to +take. He had revelled in the abandonment of that first free love of +hers. He had drained her of all that she held most precious that he +might drink his fill. And all for what? Again she burned from head to +foot, and, groaning, hid her face. All for the making of a picture that +should bring him world-wide fame! His love for her had been naught but +small change flung liberally enough that he might purchase therewith the +desire of his artist's soul. It had been just a means to an end. No more +than that! No more than that!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Time passed, but she knew naught of its passing. She was in a place of +bitterness very far removed from the ordinary things of life. She shed +no tears. The misery and shame that burned her soul were beyond all +expression or alleviation. She could have laughed over the irony of it +all more easily than she could have wept.</p> + +<p>That she—the proud and dainty, for whom no one had been good +enough—should have fallen thus easily to the careless attraction of a +man to whom she was nothing, nothing but a piece of prettiness to be +bought as cheaply as possible and treasured not at all. Some whim of +inspiration had moved him. He had obeyed his Muse. And he had been +ready—he had been ready—even to offer her life in sacrifice to his +idol. She did not count with him in the smallest degree. He had never +cared—he had never cared!</p> + +<p>She lifted her face at last. The torture was eating into her soul. It +was more than she could bear. All the tender words he had spoken, the +caresses he had lavished upon her, were as burning darts that pierced +her whichever way she turned. Her surrender had been so free, so +absolute, and in return he had left her in the dark. He had gone his +careless way without a single thought for all the fierce devotion she +had poured out to him. It had only appealed to him while the mood +lasted. And now he had had enough of it. He had gone.</p> + +<p>The murmur of the summer sea came to her as she lay, and she thought of +the Death Current. Why—ah, why—had it been cheated of its prey? She +shivered violently as the memory of that awful struggle in deep waters +came to her. She had been saved, how she scarcely realised, though deep +within her she knew—she knew!</p> + +<p>Her burning eyes fell upon the little wild white roses on the shelf. Why +had he brought them to her? Why had he chosen them? She felt as if they +held a message for her, but it was a message she did not dare to read. +And then again she quivered as the dread memory of that night swept over +her anew, and the eyes of flaming blue that had looked into hers.</p> + +<p>Somewhere—somewhere outside herself, it seemed to her—a voice was +speaking, very articulate and persistent, and she could not shut out the +words it uttered. She lacked the strength.</p> + +<p>"I always knew," it said, and it averred it over and over again, "as he +loved you like mad."</p> + +<p>Love! Love! But what was Love? Was any man capable of it? Was it ever +anything more than brutal passion or callous amusement? And hearts were +broken and lives were ruined to bring men sport.</p> + +<p>She clenched her hands, still gazing at the wild white roses with their +orange scent of purity. Why had he sent them? What had moved him to +gather them? He who had bargained with her, had wrung from her +submission to his will as it were at the sword's point! He who had +forced her to promise herself to him! What was love—or the making of +love—to such as he?</p> + +<p>The sweetness of the flowers seemed to pierce her. Ah, if they had only +been Knight's gift, how different—how different—had been all things.</p> + +<p>But they had come from Rufus. And so somehow their message passed her +by. The blackness of utter misery, utter hopelessness, closed in like a +prison-cell around her soul.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII'></a><h3>CHAPTER XII</h3> + +<h3>THE SAFE HAVEN</h3> + +<br /> +<p>In the days that followed, Mrs. Peck's honest soul was both vexed and +anxious concerning her charge. She found Columbine extraordinarily +reticent. As she herself put it, it was impossible to get any sense out +of her.</p> + +<p>In compliance with the doctor's order and by the exercise of extreme +self-restraint, she refrained from questioning her upon the matter of +her behaviour on the night of the great tide. That Columbine would have +enlightened her had she done so was exceedingly doubtful. But there was +no doubt that something very unusual had taken place. The little white +roses that Rufus presented as a daily offering would have told her that, +apart from any other indications. She would have questioned Rufus, but +something held her back; and Adam, when urged thereto, flatly refused to +interfere.</p> + +<p>Adam, rejuvenated and jubilant, went whistling about his work as of +yore. His boy had come back to him in the flesh, and he was more than +satisfied to leave things as they were.</p> + +<p>"Leave 'em alone, Missus!" was his counsel "Rufus he knows what he's +about. He'll steer a straight course, and he'll bring her into harbour +sooner or later. You leave it to him, and be thankful that curly-topped +chap has sheered off at last!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Peck had no choice but to obey, but her anxiety regarding Columbine +did not diminish. The girl was so listless, so unlike herself, so +miserable. It was many days before she summoned the energy to dress, and +even then she displayed an almost painful reluctance to go downstairs. +She seemed to live in continual dread of some approaching ordeal.</p> + +<p>"I believe it's Rufus she's afraid of," was Mrs. Peck's verdict.</p> + +<p>But Adam scouted the idea as absurd. "What will you think of next, +woman? Why, any one can see as he's quiet and well-behaved enough for +any lass. She's missing the curly-topped chap a bit maybe. But she'll +get over that. Give her time! Give her time!"</p> + +<p>So Mrs. Peck gave her time and urged her not at all. She was not very +friendly with Columbine in those days. She disapproved of her, and her +manner said as much. She kept all suspicions to herself, but she could +not behave as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>"There's wild blood in her," she said darkly. "I mistrust her."</p> + +<p>And Columbine was fully aware of the fact, but she was too wretched to +resent it. In any case, she would never have turned to Mrs. Peck for +comfort.</p> + +<p>She came downstairs at last one summer evening when Mrs. Peck was busy +in the kitchen and no one was about. She had made no mention of her +intention; perhaps she wanted to be unhampered by observation. It had +been a soft, showery day, and there was the promise of more rain in the +sky.</p> + +<p>She moved wearily, but not without purpose; and soon she was walking +with a hood drawn over her head in the direction of the cliff-edge where +grew the sweet bog-myrtle and the little roses.</p> + +<p>She met no one by the way. It was nearing the hour for the evening meal, +nearing the hour when Mrs. Peck usually entered her room with the daily +offering of flowers that filled it with orange fragrance. Mrs. Peck was +not very fond of that particular task, though she never expressed her +reluctance. Well, she would not have it to accomplish tonight.</p> + +<p>A bare-legged, blue-jerseyed figure was moving in a bent attitude along +the slope that overlooked Rufus's cottage and the Spear Point. The girl +stood a moment gazing out over the curving reef as if she had not seen +it. The pool was smooth as a mirror, and reflecting the drifting clouds. +The tide was out. But, stay! It must be on the turn, for as she stood, +there came the deep, tolling note of the bell-buoy. It sounded like a +knell.</p> + +<p>As it struck solemnly over the water, the man straightened himself, and +in a moment he saw her.</p> + +<p>He did not move to meet her, merely stood motionless, nearly knee-deep +in the bog-myrtle, and waited for her, the white roses in one great, +clenched hand. And she, as if compelled, moved towards him, till at last +she reached and stood before him, white, mute, passive as a prisoner in +iron fetters.</p> + +<p>It was the man who spoke, with an odd jerkiness of tone and demeanour +that might have indicated embarrassment or even possibly some deeper +emotion. "So you've come along at last!" he said.</p> + +<p>She nodded. For an instant her dark eyes were raised, but they flashed +downwards again immediately, almost before they had met his own.</p> + +<p>Abruptly he thrust out to her the flowers he held. "I was getting these +for you."</p> + +<p>She took them in a trembling hand. She bent her face over them to hide +the piteous quivering of her lips. "Why—do you get them?" she whispered +almost inarticulately.</p> + +<p>He did not answer for a moment. Then: "Come down to my place!" he said. +"It's but a step."</p> + +<p>She made a swift gesture that had in it something of recoil, but the +next moment, without a word, she began to walk down the slope.</p> + +<p>He trod through the growth beside her, barefooted, unfaltering. His blue +eyes looked straight before him; they were unwavering and resolute as +the man himself.</p> + +<p>They reached the cottage. He made her enter it before him, and he +followed, but he did not close the door. Instead, he stopped and +deliberately hooked it back.</p> + +<p>Then, with the low call of the sea filling the humble little room, he +turned round to the girl, who stood with her head bent, awaiting his +pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Columbine," he said, and the name came with an unaccustomed softness +from his lips, "I've something to say to you. You've been hiding +yourself from me. I know. I know. And you needn't. Them flowers—I +gathered 'em and I sent 'em up to you every day, because I wanted you to +understand as you've nothing to fear from me. I wanted you to know as +everything is all right, and I mean well by you. I didn't know how to +tell you, and then I saw the roses growing outside the door, and I +thought as maybe they'd do it for me. They made me think of you somehow. +They were so white—and pure."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" The word was a wrung sound, half cry, half sob. His roses fell +suddenly and scattered upon the floor between them. Columbine's hands +covered her face.</p> + +<p>She stood for a second or two in tense silence, then under her breath +she spoke. "You don't believe—that—of me!"</p> + +<p>"I do, then," asserted Rufus, in his deep voice a note that was almost +aggressive.</p> + +<p>She lifted her face suddenly, even fiercely, showing him the shamed +blush that burned there. "You didn't believe it—that night!" she said.</p> + +<p>His eyes met hers with a certain stubbornness. "All right. I didn't," he +said.</p> + +<p>Her look became a challenge. "Then why—how—have you come to change +your mind?"</p> + +<p>He faced her steadily. "Maybe I know you better than I knew you then," +he said slowly.</p> + +<p>She made a sharp gesture as if pierced by an intolerable pain. "And +that—that has made a difference to your—your intentions!"</p> + +<p>He moved also at that. His red brows came together. "You're quite +wrong," he said, his voice very low. "That night—I know—I was beyond +myself, I was mad. But since then I've some to my senses. And—I love +you too much to harm you. That's the truth. I'd love you +anyway—whatever you were. It's just my nature to."</p> + +<p>His hands clenched with the words; he spoke with strong effort; but his +eyes looked deeply into hers, and they held no passion. They were still +and quiet as the summer sea below them.</p> + +<p>Columbine stood facing him as if at bay, but she must have felt the +influence of his restraint, for she showed no fear. "There's no such +thing as love," she said bitterly. "You dress it up and call it that. +But all the time it's something quite different. And I tell you +this"—recklessly she flung the words—"that if it hadn't been for that +tidal wave I'd be just what you took me for that night, what Aunt Liza +thinks I am this minute. I wasn't keeping back—anything, and"—she +uttered a sudden wild laugh—"if I've kept my virtue, I've lost my +innocence. I know—I know now—just what the thing you call love is +worth! And nothing will ever make me forget it!"</p> + +<p>She stopped, quivering from head to foot, passionate protest in every +line.</p> + +<p>But the blue eyes that watched her never wavered. The man's face was +rock-like in its steadfast calm. He did not speak for a full minute +after the utterance of her wild words. Then very steadily, very +forcibly, he answered her. "I'll tell you, shall I, what the thing I +call love is like?" He turned with a sweep of the arm and pointed out to +the harbour beyond the quay. "It's just like that. It's a wall to keep +off the storms. It's a safe haven where nothing hurtful can reach you. +You're not bound to give yourself to it, but once given you're safe."</p> + +<p>"Not bound!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "Not bound—when you made me +promise—"</p> + +<p>He dropped his arm to his side. "I set you free from that promise," he +said.</p> + +<p>Those few words, sombrely spoken, checked her wild outburst as surely as +a hand upon her mouth. She stood gazing at him for a space in utter +amazement, but gradually under his unchanging regard her look began to +fail. She turned at length with a little gasp, and sat down on the old +horsehair sofa, huddling herself together as if she desired to withdraw +herself from his observation.</p> + +<p>He did not stir, and a long, long silence fell between them, broken +only by the ticking of the grandfather-clock in the corner and the +everlasting murmur of the sea.</p> + +<p>The deep, warning note of the bell-buoy floated presently through the +summer silence, and as if in answer to a voice Rufus moved at last and +spoke. "You'd better go, lass. They'll be wondering about you. But don't +be afraid of me after this! I swear—before God—I'll give you no +cause!"</p> + +<p>She started a little at the sound of his voice, but she made no movement +to go. Her face was hidden in her hands. She rocked herself to and fro, +to and fro, as if in pain.</p> + +<p>He stood looking down at her with troubled eyes, but after a while, as +she did not speak, he moved to her side and stood there. At last, slowly +and massively, he stooped and touched her.</p> + +<p>"Columbine!"</p> + +<p>She made no direct response, only suddenly, as if his action had +released in her such a flood of emotion as was utterly beyond her +control, she broke into violent weeping, her head bowed low upon her +knees.</p> + +<p>"My dear!" he said.</p> + +<p>And then—how it came about neither of them ever knew—he was on his +knees beside her, holding her close in his great arms, and she was +sobbing out her agony upon his breast.</p> + +<p>It lasted for many minutes that storm of weeping. All the torment of +humiliation and grief, which till then had found no relief, was poured +out in that burning torrent of tears. She clung to him convulsively as +though she even yet struggled in the deep waters, and he held her +through it all with that sustaining strength that had borne her up +safely against the Death Current on that night of dreadful storm.</p> + +<p>Possibly the firm upholding of his arms brought back the memory of that +former terrible struggle, for it was of that that she first spoke when +speech became possible.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why didn't you leave me to die? Why—why—why?"</p> + +<p>He answered her in a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of the +broad chest that supported her.</p> + +<p>"I wanted you."</p> + +<p>She buried her face deeper that he might not see the cruel burning of +it. "So did he—then."</p> + +<p>"Not he!" The deep voice held unutterable contempt. "He wanted to make +his fortune out of you, that's all. He didn't care whether you lived or +died, the damn' cur!"</p> + +<p>She shrank at the fierce words, and was instantly aware of the jealous +closing of his arms about her.</p> + +<p>"You aren't going to break your heart for a dirty swab like that," he +said, with more of insistence than interrogation in his voice. "Look you +here, Columbine! You're too honest to care for a beast like that. +Why—though I pulled him out of the quicksand and saved him from the +sea—I'd have wrung his neck if he'd stayed another day. I would that."</p> + +<p>She started at the fiery declaration, and raised her head. "Oh, it was +you who sent him away, then?"</p> + +<p>Her look held almost desperate entreaty for a moment, but he met it with +the utmost grimness and it quickly died.</p> + +<p>"I didn't then," he said, with rough simplicity. "He made up his mind +without any help from me. He knew he couldn't face you again. It's not a +mite of good trying to deceive yourself now you know the truth. He's +gone, and he won't come back. Columbine, don't tell me as you want him +to!"</p> + +<p>His expression for the moment was formidable. She caught an ominous +gleam in the stern eyes, but almost immediately they softened. He +uttered a sigh that ended in a groan. "Now I'm being a brute to you, +when there's nothing that I wouldn't do for your sake." His voice shook +a little. "You won't believe it, but it's true—it's true."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't I believe it?" she said swiftly. She had begun to tremble +in his hold.</p> + +<p>He looked at her with an odd wistfulness. "Because I'm too big an +oaf—to make you understand," he said.</p> + +<p>"And that is why you have set me free?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>He bent his head, almost as if the sudden question embarrassed him. +"Yes, that," he said after a moment. "And because I care too much about +you to—marry you against your will."</p> + +<p>"And you call that love?" she said.</p> + +<p>He made a slight gesture of surprise. "It is love," he said simply.</p> + +<p>His arms were still around her, but she had only to move to be free. She +did not move, save that she quivered like a vibrating wire, quivered and +hid her face.</p> + +<p>"Rufus!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" His head was bent above hers, but he could only see her black +hair, so completely was her face averted from him.</p> + +<p>Her voice came, tensely whispering. "What if I were—willing to marry +you?"</p> + +<p>Something of her agitation had entered into him. A great quiver went +through him also. But—"You're not," he said quietly, with conviction.</p> + +<p>A trembling hand strayed upwards, feeling over his neck and throat, +groping for his face. "Rufus"—again came the tense whisper—"how do you +know that?"</p> + +<p>He took the wandering hand and pressed it softly against his cheek. +"Because you don't love me, Columbine," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" A low sob escaped her; she lifted her head suddenly; the tears +were running down her face. "But—but—you could teach me, Rufus. You +could teach me what love—true love—is. I want the real thing—the real +thing. Will you give it to me? I want it—more than anything else in +the world." She drew nearer to him with the words, like a frozen +creature seeking warmth, and in a moment her arms were slipping round +his neck. "You are so true—so strong!" she sobbed. "I want to forget—I +want to forget that I ever loved—any one but you."</p> + +<p>His arms were close about her again. He pressed her so hard against his +heart that she felt its strong beating against her own. His eyes gazed +straight into hers, and in them she saw again that deep, deep blue as of +flaming spirit.</p> + +<p>"You mean it?" he said.</p> + +<p>Breathlessly she answered him. "Yes, I mean it."</p> + +<p>"Then"—he bent his great head to her, and for the fraction of a moment +she saw the meteor-like flash of his smile—"yes, I'll teach you, +Columbine," he said.</p> + +<p>With the words he kissed her on the lips, kissed her closely, kissed her +lingeringly, and in that kiss her torn heart found its first balm of +healing.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well, what did I say?" crowed Adam a little later. "Didn't I tell you +if you left 'em alone he'd steer her safe into harbour? Wasn't I right, +missus? Wasn't I right?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not gainsaying it," said Mrs. Peck, with a touch of severity. "And +I'm sure I hope as all will turn out for the best."</p> + +<p>"Turn out for the best? Why, o' course it will!" said Adam, with cheery +confidence. "My son Rufus he may be slow, but he's no fool. And he's a +good man, too, missus, a long sight better than that curly-topped chap. +Him and me's partners, so I ought to know."</p> + +<p>"To be sure you ought," said Mrs. Peck tolerantly. "And it's to be hoped +that Columbine knows it as well."</p> + +<p>And in the solitude of her own room Columbine bent her dainty head and +kissed with reverence the little wild white roses that spoke to her of +the purity of a good man's love.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<a name='The_Magic_Circle'></a><h2>THE MAGIC CIRCLE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>The persistent chirping of a sparrow made it almost harder to bear. Lady +Brooke finally rose abruptly from the table, her black brows drawn close +together, and swept to the window to scare the intruder away.</p> + +<p>"I really have not the smallest idea what your objections can be," she +observed, pausing with her back to the room.</p> + +<p>"A little exercise of your imagination might be of some assistance to +you," returned her husband dryly, not troubling to raise his eyes from +his paper.</p> + +<p>He was leaning back in a chair in an attitude of unstudied ease. It was +characteristic of Sir Roland Brooke to make himself physically +comfortable at least, whatever his mental atmosphere. He seldom raised +his voice, and never swore. Yet there was about him a certain amount of +force that made itself felt more by his silence than his speech.</p> + +<p>His young wife, though she shrugged her shoulders and looked +contemptuous, did not venture upon open defiance.</p> + +<p>"I am to decline the invitation, then?" she asked presently, without +turning.</p> + +<p>"Certainly!" Sir Roland again made leisurely reply as he scanned the +page before him.</p> + +<p>"And give as an excuse that you are too staunch a Tory to approve of +such an innovation as the waltz?"</p> + +<p>"You may give any excuse that you consider suitable," he returned with +unruffled composure.</p> + +<p>"I know of none," she answered, with a quick vehemence that trembled on +the edge of rebellion.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland turned very slowly in his chair and regarded the delicate +outline of his wife's figure against the window-frame.</p> + +<p>"Then, my dear," he said very deliberately, "let me recommend you once +more to have recourse to your ever romantic imagination!"</p> + +<p>She quivered, and clenched her hands, as if goaded beyond endurance. +"You do not treat me fairly," she murmured under her breath.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland continued to look at her with the air of a naturalist +examining an interesting specimen of his cult. He said nothing till, +driven by his scrutiny, she turned and faced him.</p> + +<p>"What is your complaint?" he asked then.</p> + +<p>She hesitated for an instant. There was doubt—even a hint of +fear—upon her beautiful face. Then, with a certain recklessness, she +spoke:</p> + +<p>"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I never +dreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrifice +this."</p> + +<p>Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat and +passively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached and +waning interest.</p> + +<p>"I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage has +ceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you was +ever very strong."</p> + +<p>Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh.</p> + +<p>"It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It is +scarcely surprising that it did not flourish."</p> + +<p>Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from his +face. He looked supremely bored.</p> + +<p>Lady Brooke moved towards the door.</p> + +<p>"It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "A +labourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I."</p> + +<p>"Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "A +labourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten her +spirit, and she is considerably the better for it."</p> + +<p>His wife stood still, very erect and queenly.</p> + +<p>"Not only the better, but the happier," she said very bitterly. "Even a +dog would rather be beaten than kicked to one side."</p> + +<p>Sir Roland lowered his paper again with startling suddenness.</p> + +<p>"Is that your point of view?" he said. "Then I fear I have been +neglecting my duty most outrageously. However, it is an omission easily +remedied. Let me hear no more of this masquerade, Lady Brooke! You have +my orders, and if you transgress them you will be punished in a fashion +scarcely to your liking. Is that clearly understood?"</p> + +<p>He looked straight up at her with cold, smiling eyes that yet seemed to +convey a steely warning.</p> + +<p>She shivered very slightly as she encountered them. "You make a mockery +of everything," she said, her voice very low.</p> + +<p>Sir Roland uttered a quiet laugh.</p> + +<p>"I am nevertheless a man of my word, Naomi," he said. "If you wish to +test me, you have your opportunity."</p> + +<p>He immersed himself finally in his paper as he ended, and she, with a +smile of proud contempt, turned and passed from the room.</p> + +<p>She had married him out of pique, it was true, but life with him had +never seemed intolerable until he had shown her that he knew it.</p> + +<p>She took her invitation with her, and in her own room sat down to read +it once again. It was from a near neighbour, Lady Blythebury, an +acquaintance with whom she was more intimate than was Sir Roland. Lady +Blythebury was a very lively person indeed. She had been on the stage in +her young days, and she had decidedly advanced ideas on the subject of +social entertainment. As a hostess, she was notorious for her +originality and energy, and though some of the county families +disapproved of her, she always knew how to secure as many guests as she +desired. Lady Brooke had known her previous to her own marriage, and she +clung to this friendship, notwithstanding Sir Roland's very obvious lack +of sympathy.</p> + +<p>He knew Lord Blythebury in the hunting-field. Their properties adjoined, +and it was inevitable that certain courtesies should be exchanged. But +he refused so steadily to fall a captive to Lady Blythebury's bow and +spear, that he very speedily aroused her aversion. He soon realised that +her influence over his wife was very far from benevolent towards +himself, but, save that he persisted in declining all social invitations +to Blythebury, he made no attempt to counteract the evil. In fact, it +was not his custom to coerce her. He denied her very little, though with +regard to that little he was as adamant.</p> + +<p>But to Naomi his non-interference was many a time more galling than his +interdiction. It was but seldom that she attempted to oppose him, and, +save that Lady Blythebury's masquerade had been discussed between them +for weeks, she would not have greatly cared for his refusal to attend +it. When Sir Roland asserted himself, it was her habit to yield without +argument.</p> + +<p>But now, for the first time, she asked herself if he were not presuming +upon her wifely submission. He would think more of her if she resisted +him, whispered her hurt pride, recalling the courteous indifference +which it was his custom to mete out to her. But dared she do this +thing?</p> + +<p>She took up the invitation again and read it. It was to be a fancy-dress +ball, and all were to wear masks. The waltz which she had learned to +dance from Lady Blythebury herself and which was only just coming into +vogue in England, was to be one of the greatest features of the evening. +There would be no foolish formality, Lady Blythebury had assured her. +The masks would preclude that. Altogether the whole entertainment +promised to be of so entrancing a nature that she had permitted herself +to look forward to it with considerable pleasure. But she might have +guessed that Sir Roland would refuse to go, she reflected, as she sat in +her dainty room with the invitation before her. Did he ever attend any +function that was not so stiff and dull that she invariably pined to +depart from the moment of arrival?</p> + +<p>Again she read the invitation, recalling Lady Blythebury's gay words +when last they had talked the matter over.</p> + +<p>"If only Una could come without the lion for once!" she had said.</p> + +<p>And she herself had almost echoed the wish. Sir Roland always spoilt +everything.</p> + +<p>Well!—She took up her pen. She supposed she must refuse. A moment it +hovered above the paper. Then, very slowly, it descended and began to +write.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The chatter of many voices and the rhythm of dancing feet, the strains +of a string-band in the distance, and, piercing all, the clear, high +notes of a flute, filled the spring night with wonderful sound. Lady +Blythebury had turned her husband's house into a fairy palace of +delight. She stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her florid face +beaming above her Elizabethan ruffles, looking in upon the gay and +ever-shifting scene which she had called into being.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if I had stepped into an Arabian Night," she laughed to one +of her guests, who stood beside her. He was dressed as a court jester, +and carried a wand which he flourished dramatically. He wore a +close-fitting black mask.</p> + +<p>"There is certainly magic abroad," he declared, in a rich, Irish brogue +that Lady Blythebury smiled to hear. For she also was Irish to the +backbone.</p> + +<p>"You know something of the art yourself, Captain Sullivan?" she asked.</p> + +<p>She knew the man for a friend of her husband's. He was more or less +disreputable, she believed, but he was none the less welcome on that +account. It was just such men as he who knew how to make things a +success. She relied upon the disreputable more than she would have +admitted.</p> + +<p>"Egad, I'm no novice in most things!" declared the court jester, waving +his wand bombastically. "But it's the magic of a pretty woman that I'm +after at the present moment. These masks, Lady Blythebury, are uncommon +inconvenient. It's yourself that knows better than to wear one. Sure, +beauty should never go veiled."</p> + +<p>Lady Blythebury laughed indulgently. Though she knew it for what it was, +the fellow's blarney was good to hear.</p> + +<p>"Ah, go and dance!" she said. "I've heard all that before. It never +means anything. Go and dance with the little lady over there in the pink +domino! I give you my word that she is pretty. Her name is Una, but she +is minus the lion on this occasion. I shall tell you no more than that."</p> + +<p>"Egad! It's more than enough!" said the court jester, as he bowed and +moved away.</p> + +<p>The lady indicated stood alone in the curtained embrasure of a +bay-window. She was watching the dancers with an absorbed air, and did +not notice his approach.</p> + +<p>He drew near, walking with a free swagger in time to the haunting +waltz-music. Reaching her, he stopped and executed a sweeping bow, his +hand upon his heart.</p> + +<p>"May I have the pleasure—"</p> + +<p>She looked up with a start. Her eyes shone through her mask with a +momentary irresolution as she bent in response to his bow.</p> + +<p>With scarcely a pause he offered her his arm.</p> + +<p>"You dance the waltz?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated for a second; then, with an affirmatory murmur, accepted +the proffered arm. The bold stare with which he met her look had in it +something of compulsion.</p> + +<p>He led her instantly away from her retreat, and in a moment his hand was +upon her waist. He guided her into the gay stream of dancers without a +word.</p> + +<p>They began to waltz—a dream—waltz in which she seemed to float without +effort, without conscious volition. Instinctively she responded to his +touch, keenly, vibrantly aware of the arm that supported her, of the +dark, free eyes that persistently sought her own.</p> + +<p>"Faith!" he suddenly said in his soft, Irish voice. "To find Una without +the lion is a piece of good fortune I had scarcely prayed for. And what +was the persuasion that you used at all to keep the monster in his den?"</p> + +<p>She glanced up, half-startled by his speech. What did this man know +about her?</p> + +<p>"If you mean my husband," she said at last, "I did not persuade him. He +never wished or intended to come."</p> + +<p>Her companion laughed as one well pleased.</p> + +<p>"Very generous of him!" he commented, in a tone that sent the blood to +her cheeks.</p> + +<p>He guided her dexterously among the dancers. The girl's breath came +quickly, unevenly, but her feet never faltered.</p> + +<p>"If I were the lion," said her partner daringly, "by the powers, I'd +play the part! I wouldn't be a tame beast, egad! If Una went out to a +fancy ball, my faith, I would go too!"</p> + +<p>Lady Brooke uttered a little, excited laugh. The words caught her +interest.</p> + +<p>"And suppose Una went without your leave?" she said.</p> + +<p>The Irishman looked at her with a humorous twist at one corner of his +mouth.</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking that I'd still go too," he said.</p> + +<p>"But if you didn't know?" She asked the question with a curious +vehemence. Her instinct told her that, however he might profess to +trifle, here at least was a man.</p> + +<p>"That wouldn't happen," he said, with conviction, "if I were the lion."</p> + +<p>The music was quickening to the <i>finale</i>, and she felt the strong arm +grow tense about her.</p> + +<p>"Come!" he said. "We will go into the garden."</p> + +<p>She went with him because it seemed that she must, but deep in her heart +there lurked a certain misgiving. There was an almost arrogant air of +power about this man. She wondered what Sir Roland would say if he knew, +and comforted herself almost immediately with the reflection that he +never could know. He had gone to Scotland, and she did not expect him +back for several weeks.</p> + +<p>So she turned aside with this stranger, and passed out upon his arm into +the dusk of the soft spring night.</p> + +<p>"You know these gardens well?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She came out of her meditations.</p> + +<p>"Not really well. Lady Blythebury and I are friends, but we do not visit +very often."</p> + +<p>"And that but secretly," he laughed, "when the lion is absent?" She did +not answer him, and he continued after a moment: "'Pon my life, the +very mention of him seems to cast a cloud. Let us draw a magic circle, +and exclude him!" He waved his wand. "You knew that I was a magician?"</p> + +<p>There was a hint of something more than banter in his voice. They had +reached the end of the terrace, and were slowly descending the steps. +But at his last words, Lady Brooke stood suddenly still.</p> + +<p>"I only believe in one sort of magic," she said, "and that is beyond the +reach of all but fools."</p> + +<p>Her voice quivered with an almost passionate disdain. She was suddenly +aware of an intense burning misery that seemed to gnaw into her very +soul. Why had she come out with this buffoon, she wondered? Why had she +come to the masquerade at all? She was utterly out of sympathy with its +festive gaiety. A great and overmastering desire for solitude descended +upon her. She turned almost angrily to go.</p> + +<p>But in the same instant the jester's hand caught her own.</p> + +<p>"Even so, lady," he said. "But the magic of fools has led to paradise +before now."</p> + +<p>She laughed out bitterly:</p> + +<p>"A fool's paradise!"</p> + +<p>"Is ever green," he said whimsically. "Faith, it's no place at all for +cynics. Shall we go hand in hand to find it then—in case you miss the +way?"</p> + +<p>She laughed again at the quaint adroitness of his speech. But her lips +were curiously unsteady, and she found the darkness very comforting. +There was no moon, and the sky was veiled. She suffered the strong clasp +of his fingers about her own without protest. What did it matter—for +just one night?</p> + +<p>"Where are we going?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Wait till we get there!" murmured her companion. "We are just within +the magic circle. Una has escaped from the lion."</p> + +<p>She felt turf beneath her feet, and once or twice the brushing of twigs +against her hand. She began to have a faint suspicion as to whither he +was leading her. But she would not ask a second time. She had yielded to +his guidance, and though her heart fluttered strangely she would not +seem to doubt. The dread of Sir Roland's displeasure had receded to the +back of her mind. Surely there was indeed magic abroad that night! It +seemed diffused in the very air she breathed. In silence they moved +along the dim grass path. From far away there came to them fitfully the +sound of music, remote and wonderful, like straying echoes of paradise. +A soft wind stirred above them, lingering secretly among opening leaves. +There was a scent of violets almost intoxicatingly sweet.</p> + +<p>The silence seemed magnetic. It held them like a spell. Through it, +vague and intangible as the night at first, but gradually taking +definite shape, strange thoughts began to rise in the girl's heart.</p> + +<p>She had consented to this adventure from sheer lack of purpose. But +whither was it leading her? She was a married woman, with her shackles +heavy upon her. Yet she walked that night with a stranger, as one who +owned her freedom. The silence between them was intimate and wonderful, +the silence which only kindred spirits can ever know. It possessed her +magically, making her past life seem dim and shadowy, and the present +only real.</p> + +<p>And yet she knew that she was not free. She trespassed on forbidden +ground. She tasted the forbidden fruit, and found it tragically sweet.</p> + +<p>Suddenly and softly he spoke:</p> + +<p>"Does the magic begin to work?"</p> + +<p>She started and tried to stop. Surely it were wiser to go back while she +had the will! But he drew her forward still. The mist overhead was +faintly silver. The moon was rising.</p> + +<p>"We will go to the heart of the tangle," he said. "There is nothing to +fear. The lion himself could not frighten you here."</p> + +<p>Again she yielded to him. There was a suspicion of raillery in his voice +that strangely reassured her. The grasp of his hand was very close.</p> + +<p>"We are in the maze," she said at last, breaking her silence. "Are you +sure of the way?"</p> + +<p>He answered her instantly with complete self-assurance.</p> + +<p>"Like the heart of a woman, it's hard, that it is, to find. But I think +I have the key. And if not, by the saints, I'm near enough now to break +through."</p> + +<p>The words thrilled her inexplicably. Truly the magic was swift and +potent. A few more steps, and she was aware of a widening of the hedge. +They were emerging into the centre of the maze.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said the jester, "I thought I should win through!"</p> + +<p>He led her forward into the shadow of a great tree. The mist was passing +very slowly from the sky. By the silvery light that filtered down from +the hidden moon Naomi made out the strong outline of his shoulders as he +stood before her, and the vague darkness of his mask.</p> + +<p>She put up her free hand and removed her own. The breeze had died down. +The atmosphere was hushed and airless.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the way back?" she asked him, in a voice that sounded +unnatural even to herself.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to go back, then?" he queried keenly.</p> + +<p>There was something in his tone—a subtle something that she had not +detected before. She began to tremble. For the first time, actual fear +took hold of her.</p> + +<p>"You must know the way back!" she exclaimed. "This is folly! They will +be wondering where we are."</p> + +<p>"Faith, Lady Una! It is the fool's paradise," he told her coolly. "They +will not wonder. They know too well that there is no way back."</p> + +<p>His manner terrified her. Its very quietness seemed a menace. +Desperately she tore herself from his hold, and turned to escape. But it +was as though she fled in a nightmare. Whichever way she turned she met +only the impenetrable ramparts of the hedge that surrounded her. She +could find neither entrance nor exit. It was as though the way by which +she had come had been closed behind her.</p> + +<p>But the brightness above was growing. She whispered to herself that she +would soon be able to see, that she could not be a prisoner for long.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she heard her captor close to her, and, turning in terror, she +found him erect and dominating against the hedge. With a tremendous +effort she controlled her rising panic to plead with him.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I must go back!" she said, her voice unsteady, but very urgent. +"I have already stayed too long. You cannot wish to keep me here against +my will?"</p> + +<p>She saw him shrug his shoulders slightly.</p> + +<p>"There is no way back," he said, "or, if there is, I do not know it."</p> + +<p>There was no dismay in his voice, but neither was there exultation. He +simply stated the fact with absolute composure. Her heart gave a wild +throb of misgiving. Was the man wholly sane?</p> + +<p>Again she caught wildly at her failing courage, and drew herself up to +her full height. Perhaps she might awe him, even yet.</p> + +<p>"Sir," she said, "I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. And I—"</p> + +<p>"Egad!" he broke in banteringly, "that was yesterday. You are free +to-day. I have brought you out of bondage. We have found paradise +together, and, my pretty Lady Una, there is no way back."</p> + +<p>"But there is, there is!" she cried desperately. "And I must find it! I +tell you I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. I belong to him. No one can keep +me from him!"</p> + +<p>It was as though she beat upon an iron door.</p> + +<p>"There is no way out of the magic circle," said the jester inexorably.</p> + +<p>A white shaft of light illumined the mist above them, revealing the +girl's pale face, making sinister the man's masked one. He seemed to be +smiling. He bent towards her.</p> + +<p>"You seem amazingly fond of your chains," he said softly. "And yet, from +what I have heard, Sir Roland is no gentle tyrant. How is it, pretty +one? What makes you cling to your bondage so?"</p> + +<p>"He is my husband!" she said, through white lips.</p> + +<p>"Faith, that is no answer," he declared. "Own, now, that you hate him, +that you loathe his presence and shudder at his touch! I told you I was +a magician, Lady Una; but you wouldn't believe me at all."</p> + +<p>She confronted him with a sudden fury that marvellously reinforced her +failing courage.</p> + +<p>"You lie, sir!" she cried, stamping passionately upon the soft earth. "I +do none of these things. I have never hated him. I have never shrunk +from his touch. We have not understood each other, perhaps, but that is +a different matter, and no concern of yours."</p> + +<p>"He has not made you happy," said the jester persistently. "You will +never go back to him now that you are free!"</p> + +<p>"I will go back to him!" she cried stormily. "How dare you say such a +thing to me? How dare you?"</p> + +<p>He came nearer to her.</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he said. "It is deliverance that I am offering you. I ask +nothing at all in return, simply to make you happy, and to teach you the +blessed magic which now you scorn. Faith! It's the greatest game in the +world, Lady Una; and it only takes two players, dear, only two players!"</p> + +<p>There was a subtle, caressing quality in his voice. His masked face was +bending close to hers. She felt trapped and helpless, but she forced +herself to stand her ground.</p> + +<p>"You insult me!" she said, her voice quivering, but striving to be calm.</p> + +<p>"Never a bit!" he declared. "Since I am the truest friend you have!"</p> + +<p>She drew away from him with a gesture of repulsion.</p> + +<p>"You insult me!" she said again. "I have my husband, and I need no +other."</p> + +<p>He laughed sneeringly, the insinuating banter all gone from his manner.</p> + +<p>"You know he is nothing to you," he said. "He neglects you. He bullies +you. You married him because you wanted to be a married woman. Be +honest, now! You never loved him. You do not know what love is!"</p> + +<p>"It is false!" she cried. "I will not listen to you. Let me go!"</p> + +<p>He took a sudden step forward.</p> + +<p>"You refuse deliverance?" he questioned harshly.</p> + +<p>She did not retreat this time, but faced him proudly.</p> + +<p>"I do!"</p> + +<p>"Listen!" he said again, and his voice was stern. "Sir Roland Brooke has +returned home. He knows that you have disobeyed him. He knows that you +are here with me. You will not dare to face him. You have gone too far +to return."</p> + +<p>She gasped hysterically, and tottered for an instant, but recovered +herself.</p> + +<p>"I will—I will go back!" she said.</p> + +<p>"He will beat you like a labourer's wife," warned the jester. "He may do +worse."</p> + +<p>She was swaying as she stood.</p> + +<p>"He will do—as he sees fit," she said.</p> + +<p>He stooped a little lower.</p> + +<p>"I would make you happy, Lady Una," he whispered. "I would protect +you—shelter you—love you!"</p> + +<p>She flung out her hands with a wild and desperate gesture. The +magnetism of his presence had become horrible to her.</p> + +<p>"I am going to him—now," she said.</p> + +<p>Behind him she saw, in the brightening moonlight, the opening which she +had vainly sought a few minutes before. She sprang for it, darting past +him like a frightened bird seeking refuge, and in another moment she was +lost in the green labyrinths.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The moonlight had become clear and strong, casting black shadows all +about her. Twice, in her frantic efforts to escape, she ran back into +the centre of the maze. The jester had gone, but she imagined him +lurking behind every corner, and she impotently recalled his words: +"There is no way out of the magic circle."</p> + +<p>At last, panting and exhausted, she knew that she was unwinding the +puzzle. Often as its intricacies baffled her, she kept her head, +rectifying each mistake and pressing on, till the wider curve told her +that she was very near the entrance. She came upon it finally quite +suddenly, and found herself, to her astonishment, close to the terrace +steps.</p> + +<p>She mounted them with trembling limbs, and paused a moment to summon her +composure. Then, outwardly calm, she traversed the terrace and entered +the house.</p> + +<p>Lady Blythebury was dancing, and she felt she could not wait. She +scribbled a few hasty words of farewell, and gave them to a servant as +she entered her carriage. Hers was the first departure, and no one +noted it.</p> + +<p>She sank back at length, thankfully, in the darkness, and closed her +eyes. Whatever lay before her, she had escaped from the nightmare horror +of the shadowy garden.</p> + +<p>But as the brief drive neared its end, her anxiety revived. Had Sir +Roland indeed returned and discovered her absence? Was it possible?</p> + +<p>Her face was white and haggard as she entered the hall at last. Her eyes +were hunted.</p> + +<p>The servant who opened to her looked at her oddly for a moment.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she said nervously.</p> + +<p>"Sir Roland has returned, my lady," he said. "He arrived two hours ago, +and went straight to his room, saying he would not disturb your +ladyship."</p> + +<p>She turned away in silence, and mounted the stairs. Did he know? Had he +guessed? Was it that that had brought him back?</p> + +<p>She entered her room, and dismissed the maid she found awaiting her.</p> + +<p>Swiftly she threw off the pink domino, and began to loosen her hair with +stiff, fumbling fingers, then shook it about her shoulders, and sank +quivering upon a couch. She could not go to bed. The terror that +possessed her was too intense, too overmastering.</p> + +<p>Ah! What was that? Every pulse in her body leaped and stood still at +sound of a low knock at the door. Who could it be? gasped her fainting +heart. Not Sir Roland, surely! He never came to her room now.</p> + +<p>Softly the door opened. It was Sir Roland and none other—Sir Roland +wearing an old velvet smoking—jacket, composed as ever, his grey eyes +very level and inscrutable.</p> + +<p>He paused for a single instant upon the threshold, then came noiselessly +in and closed the door.</p> + +<p>Naomi sat motionless and speechless. She lacked the strength to rise. +Her hands were pressed upon her heart. She thought its beating would +suffocate her.</p> + +<p>He came quietly across the room to her, not seeming to notice her +agitation.</p> + +<p>"I should not have disturbed you at this hour if I had not been sure +that you were awake," he said.</p> + +<p>Reaching her, he bent and touched her white cheek.</p> + +<p>"Why, child, how cold you are!" he said.</p> + +<p>She started violently back, and then, as a sudden memory assailed her, +she caught his hand and held it for an instant.</p> + +<p>"It is nothing," she said with an effort. "You—you startled me."</p> + +<p>"You are nervous tonight," said Sir Roland.</p> + +<p>She shrank under his look.</p> + +<p>"You see, I did not expect you," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Evidently not." Sir Roland stood gravely considering her. "I came +back," he said, after a moment, "because it occurred to me that you +might be lonely after all, in spite of your assurance to the contrary. +I did not ask you to accompany me, Naomi. I did not think you would care +to do so. But I regretted it later, and I have come back to remedy the +omission. Will you come with me to Scotland?"</p> + +<p>His tone was quiet and somewhat formal, but there was in it a kindliness +that sent the blood pulsing through her veins in a wave of relief even +greater than her astonishment at his words. He did not know, then. That +was her one all-possessing thought. He could not know, or he had not +spoken to her thus.</p> + +<p>She sat slowly forward, drawing her hair about her shoulders like a +cloak. She felt for the moment an overpowering weakness, and she could +not look up.</p> + +<p>"I will come, of course," she said at last, her voice very low, "if you +wish it."</p> + +<p>Sir Roland did not respond at once. Then, as his silence was beginning +to disquiet her again, he laid a steady hand upon the shadowing hair.</p> + +<p>"My dear," he said gently, "have you no wishes upon the subject?"</p> + +<p>Again she started at his touch, and again, as if to rectify the start, +drew ever so slightly nearer to him. It was many, many days since she +had heard that tone from him.</p> + +<p>"My wishes are yours," she told him faintly.</p> + +<p>His hand was caressing her softly, very softly. Again he was silent for +a while, and into her heart there began to creep a new feeling that +made her gradually forget the immensity of her relief. She sat +motionless, save that her head drooped a little lower, ever a little +lower.</p> + +<p>"Naomi," he said, at last, "I have been thinking a good deal lately. We +seem to have been wandering round and round in a circle. I have been +wondering if we could not by any means find a way out?"</p> + +<p>She made a sharp, involuntary movement. What was this that he was saying +to her?</p> + +<p>"I don't quite understand," she murmured.</p> + +<p>His hand pressed a little upon her, and she knew that he was bending +down.</p> + +<p>"You are not happy," he said, with grave conviction.</p> + +<p>She could not contradict him.</p> + +<p>"It is my own fault," she managed to say, without lifting her head.</p> + +<p>"I do not think so," he returned, "at least, not entirely. I know that +there have frequently been times when you have regretted your marriage. +For that you were not to blame." He paused an instant. "Naomi," he said, +a new note in his voice, "I think I am right in believing that, +notwithstanding this regret, you do not in your heart wish to leave me?"</p> + +<p>She quivered, and hid her face in silence.</p> + +<p>He waited a few seconds, and finally went on as if she had answered in +the affirmative.</p> + +<p>"That being so, I have a foundation on which to build. I would not ask +of you anything which you feel unable to grant. But there is only one +way for us to get out of the circle that I can see. Will you take it +with me, Naomi? Shall we go away together, and leave this miserable +estrangement behind us?"</p> + +<p>His voice was low and tender. Yet she felt instinctively that he had not +found it easy to expose his most sacred reserve thus. She moved +convulsively, trying to answer him, trying for several unworthy moments +to accept in silence the shelter his generosity had offered her. But her +efforts failed, for she had not been moulded for deception; and this new +weapon of his had cut her to the heart. Heavy, shaking sobs overcame +her.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" he said. "Hush! I never dreamed you felt it so."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you don't know me!" she whispered. "I—I am not what you think me. +I have disobeyed you, deceived you, cheated you!" Humbled to the earth, +she made piteous, halting confession before her tyrant. "I was at the +masquerade tonight. I waltzed—and afterwards went into the maze—in the +dark—with a stranger—who made love to me. I never—meant you—to +know."</p> + +<p>Silence succeeded her words, and, as she waited for him to rise and +spurn her, she wondered how she had ever brought herself to utter them. +But she would not have recalled them even then. He moved at last, but +not as she had anticipated. He gathered the tumbled hair back from her +face, and, bending over her, he spoke. Even in her agony of +apprehension she noted the curious huskiness of his voice.</p> + +<p>"And yet you told me," he said. "Why?"</p> + +<p>She could not answer him, nor could she raise her face. He was not +angry, she knew now; but yet she felt that she could not meet his eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a short silence, then he spoke again, close to her ear:</p> + +<p>"You need not have told me, Naomi."</p> + +<p>The words amazed her. With a great start of bewilderment she lifted her +head and looked at him. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She thought +she saw a smile hovering about his lips, but it was of a species she had +never seen there before.</p> + +<p>"Because," he explained gently, "I knew."</p> + +<p>She stared at him in wonder, scarcely breathing, the tears all gone from +her eyes.</p> + +<p>"You—knew!" she said slowly, at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I knew," he said. He looked deep into her eyes for seconds, and +then she felt him drawing her irresistibly to him. She yielded herself +as driftwood yields to a racing flood, no longer caring for the +interpretation of the riddle, scarcely remembering its existence; heard +him laugh above her head—a brief, exultant laugh—as he clasped her. +And then came his lips upon her own....</p> + +<p>"You see, dear," he said later, a quiver that was not all laughter in +his voice, "it is not so remarkably wonderful, after all, that I should +know all about it, when you come to consider that I was there—there +with you in the magic circle all the time."</p> + +<p>"You were there!" she echoed, turning in his arms. "But how was it I +never knew? Why did I not see you?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, sweetheart, I think you did!" said Sir Roland. Then, at her +quick cry of amazed understanding: "I wanted to teach you a lesson, but, +sure, I'm thinking it's myself that learned one, after all." And, as she +clung to him, still hardly believing: "We have found our paradise +together, my Lady Una," he whispered softly. "And, love, there is no way +back."</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Looker_On'></a><h2>THE LOOKER-ON</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='5%' summary="TOC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right:auto;"><tr> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_I'>I</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_II'>II</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_III'>III</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_IV'>IV</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_V'>V</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_VI'>VI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_VII'>VII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_VIII'>VIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_IX'>IX</a></td> +<td><a href='#Looker_On_X'>X</a></td> +</tr></table> + +<a name='Looker_On_I'></a><h3>I</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, I'm going to be Lady Jane Grey," said Charlie Cleveland, balancing +himself on the deck-rail in front of his friends, Mrs. Langdale and +Mollie Erle, with considerable agility. "And, Mollie, I say, will you +lend me a black silk skirt? I saw you were wearing one last night."</p> + +<p>He spoke with complete seriousness. It was this boy's way to infuse into +all his actions an enthusiasm that deprived the most trifling of the +commonplace element. He was the gayest passenger on board—the very life +of the boat. Yet he had few accomplishments to recommend him, his +abundant spirits alone attaining for him the popularity he everywhere +enjoyed.</p> + +<p>Molly Erle, who with Mrs. Langdale was returning home after spending the +winter with some friends at Calcutta, regarded him with a toleration not +wholly devoid of contempt. He apparently deemed it necessary to pay her +a good deal of attention, and Molly was strongly determined to keep him +at a distance—a matter, by the way, that had its difficulties in face +of young Cleveland's romping lack of ceremony.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you may have the skirt," she said with a generosity not wholly +spontaneous, as he waited expectantly for a reply to his request.</p> + +<p>"Ah, good!" he said effusively. "That is a great weight off my mind. And +may I have Number Ten on your programme?"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to dance?" asked Mrs. Langdale, with a half-suppressed +laugh.</p> + +<p>He turned upon her, grinning openly.</p> + +<p>"No. Fisher says I mustn't. I'm going to sit out, dear Mrs. Langdale—a +modest wall-flower for once. I hope you will all be very kind to me. +Have you made a note of Number Ten, Molly—I mean, Miss Erle? No? But +you will, though. Ah! Thanks, awfully! Here comes Fisher! I wish you +would persuade him to do Guildford Dudley. I can't."</p> + +<p>He bounced off the rail and departed, laughing.</p> + +<p>Molly looked after him with slight disapprobation on her pretty face. He +was such a thoroughly nice boy. She wished with almost unreasonable +intensity that he possessed more of that sterling quality, solidity, for +which his travelling companion, Fisher, was chiefly noteworthy.</p> + +<p>Captain Fisher approached them with a casual air as if he had drifted +their way by accident. He was one of those oppressively quiet men who +possess the unhappy knack of appearing wholly out of touch with all +social surroundings. There was a reticence about him which almost all +took for surliness, but which was in reality merely a somewhat +unattractive mixture of awkwardness and laziness.</p> + +<p>He was in the Royal Engineers, and believed to be a very clever man in +his profession. But there was never anything in the least bright or +original in his conversation. Yet, for some vague reason, Molly credited +him with the ability to do great deeds, and was particularly gracious to +him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale, who was lively herself, infinitely preferred Charlie +Cleveland's boisterous company, and on the present occasion she rose to +follow him with great promptitude.</p> + +<p>"I must find out how he has managed the rest of his costume," she said +to Molly. "It is sure to be strikingly original—like himself."</p> + +<p>The contempt deepened a little on Molly's face, contempt and regret—an +odd mixture.</p> + +<p>"He is very funny, no doubt," she said; "but I think one gets a little +tired of his perpetual gaiety. I don't think we should find him so +delightful if a storm came on. I haven't much faith in those people who +can never take anything really seriously. I believe he would die +laughing."</p> + +<p>"All the better," declared Mrs. Langdale, who loved Charlie's impetuous +ways with maternal tolerance. "It is always better to laugh than cry, my +dear; though it isn't always easier by any means."</p> + +<p>She departed with the words, laughing a little to herself at Molly's +critical mood; and Captain Fisher went and sat stolidly down beside +Molly, who turned to him with an instant smile of welcome. She was the +only lady on board who was never bored by this man's quiet society. She +liked him thoroughly, finding the contrast between him and his volatile +friend a great relief.</p> + +<p>Fisher never talked frivolities; indeed, he seldom talked at all. Yet to +Molly the hour he spent beside her on that sunny day in the +Mediterranean passed as pleasantly and easily as she could have desired.</p> + +<p>Captain Fisher might seem heavy to others, but never to her—a fact of +which secretly she was rather proud.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_II'></a><h3>II</h3> + + +<p>"Come up on deck!" whispered Charlie in an eager undertone. "There's no +one there, and the night is divine."</p> + +<p>Molly Erie looked at the strange figure in fancy-dress beside her and +laughed aloud. She had not allowed Charlie a <i>tête-à-tête</i> for many +days, but she felt that he could scarcely attempt to be sentimental in +that costume.</p> + +<p>She went with him, therefore, thinking what a pretty girl he would have +made.</p> + +<p>Charlie led her to the deck-rail. His ridiculous figure was less +obtrusively absurd in the dim light. His laughing voice, lowered +half-confidently, half-reverently, sounded less inconsequent than was +its wont.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he turned to her and spoke with wholly unexpected vehemence.</p> + +<p>"I can't keep it in," he said. "You've got to know it. Molly, I love you +most awfully. You do know it, I believe, without being told. Why do you +always run away and hide when I try to speak?"</p> + +<p>He spoke quickly, jerkily. She glanced at him with a nervous movement as +she drew back. He was not laughing for once, yet she fancied there was +the shadow of a smile quivering about his face. Possibly it was an +illusion. The dim light made everything indefinite. But the suspicion +roused in her in full strength her prejudice against him. She drew back +deliberately, and her anger grew from scorn to cruelty during the +moments that intervened between his question and her answer.</p> + +<p>"You have chosen a very appropriate occasion," she remarked icily at +length. "Do you imagine yourself irresistible when playing the fool, I +wonder?"</p> + +<p>He faced round on her.</p> + +<p>"I have taken the only opportunity I could get," he said. "I am a slave +of circumstance. If I had come to you in rational costume you would not +have consented to sit out with me."</p> + +<p>There was a ring of laughter in his explanation. He did not take her +anger seriously, then. Molly quivered with indignation. She would +speedily show him his mistake.</p> + +<p>"You think, then," she said, "that this buffoonery is too amusing to be +foregone? I am afraid I do not agree with you."</p> + +<p>She paused. Charlie had given a great start of surprise. She could see +the astonishment on his boyish face under the white mantilla he wore.</p> + +<p>"Oh, look here!" he exclaimed impetuously. "You have got the wrong side +of everything. It isn't buffoonery. I don't play with sacred things. +I'm in earnest, Molly. Can't you see it? What do you take me for?"</p> + +<p>She heard the note of honesty in his voice and shifted her batteries.</p> + +<p>"You may be—for a moment," she said, scorn vibrating in every word she +uttered. "But you will soon get over it, you know. By to-morrow, or even +sooner, all danger will be over."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" exclaimed Charlie. For the first time in all her dealings with +him he spoke sternly, as a man might speak, and Molly started at his +tone. "You are making a mistake," he said more quietly. "I am not the +superficial ass you take me for."</p> + +<p>"I have only your word for that," she returned, striking without pity +because for a second he had startled her out of her contemptuous +attitude.</p> + +<p>He looked at her in silence, and again her indignation arose full-armed +against him. How dared he—this clown in woman's clothes—speak to her +at such a moment of that which she rightly held to be the holiest thing +on earth?</p> + +<p>"How can you expect me to believe you?" she demanded. "You tell me you +are in earnest. But you know as well as I do that that is a mere figure +of speech. You are never in earnest. You play all day long. You will do +it all your life. You never do anything worth mentioning. Other people +do the work. You simply skim the surface of things. You are merely a +looker-on."</p> + +<p>"A very intelligent looker-on, though," said Charlie, in a tone she did +not wholly understand.</p> + +<p>"And if I don't do anything worth doing, it is possibly lack of +opportunity, isn't it? I can do many things, from driving engines to +playing skittles. Take a man for what he is, not for what he does! It is +the only fair estimate. Otherwise the blatant fools get all the honey."</p> + +<p>Molly uttered a scornful little laugh.</p> + +<p>"This is paltry," she exclaimed. "A man's actions are the actual man. He +can make his own opportunities. No, Mr. Cleveland. You will never +convince me of your intrinsic worth by talking."</p> + +<p>She paused, as it were, involuntarily. Again that startled feeling of +uncertainty was at her heart. There was a momentary silence. Then +Charlie made her an odd, jerky bow, and without a single word further +turned and left her.</p> + +<p>Quaint as was his attire, ungainly as were his movements, there was in +his withdrawal a touch of dignity, even a hint of the sublime; and Molly +could not understand it.</p> + +<p>She paced the length of the deck and sat down to regain her composure. +The interview had left her considerably ruffled, even ill at ease.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_III'></a><h3>III</h3> + +<p>She had been sitting there for some moments when suddenly, with a great +throb that seemed to vibrate through the whole length of the great +vessel from end to end, the engines ceased. The music in the large +saloon, where the first-class passengers were dancing, came to an abrupt +stop. There was a pause, a thrilling, intense pause; and then the +confusion of voices.</p> + +<p>A man ran quickly by her to the bridge, where she could dimly discern +the first-officer on watch. She sprang up, dreading she knew not what, +and at the same instant Charlie—she knew it was he by the flutter of +the ridiculous garb he wore—leapt off the bridge like a hurricane, and +tore past her.</p> + +<p>He was gone in a second, almost before she had had time to realise his +flying presence; and the next moment passengers were streaming up on +deck, asking questions, uttering surmises, on the verge of panic, yet +trying to ignore the anxiety that tugged at their resolution.</p> + +<p>Molly joined the crowd. She was frightened too, badly frightened; but it +is always better to face fear in company. So at least says human +instinct.</p> + +<p>The passengers collected in a restless mass on the upper deck. The +captain was seen going swiftly to the bridge. After a brief word with +him the first-officer came down to them. He was a pleasant, +easy-tempered man, and did not appear in the least dismayed.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he said, raising his voice. "Please don't be alarmed! +There has been a little accident in the engine-room. The captain hopes +you won't let it interfere with your dancing."</p> + +<p>He placed himself in the thick of the strangely dressed crowd. His +clean-shaven face was perfectly unconcerned.</p> + +<p>"I'll come and join you, if I may," he said. "The captain allows me to +knock off. Will you admit a non-fancy-dresser?"</p> + +<p>He led the way below, calling for the orchestra as he went. The +frightened crowd turned and followed as if in this one man who spoke +with the voice of authority protection could be found. But they hung +back from dancing, and after a pause the first-officer seized a banjo +and proceeded to entertain them with comic songs. He kept it up for a +while, and then Mrs. Langdale went nobly to his assistance and sang some +Irish songs. One or two other volunteers presented themselves, and the +evening's entertainment developed into a concert.</p> + +<p>The tension relaxed considerably as the time slipped by, but it did not +wholly pass. It was noticed that the doctor was absent.</p> + +<p>A reluctance to disperse for the night was very manifestly obvious.</p> + +<p>About two hours after the first alarm the great ship thrilled as if in +answer to some monster touch. The languid roll ceased. The engines +started again firmly, regularly, with gradually rising speed. In less +than a minute all was as it had been.</p> + +<p>A look of intense relief shot across the first-officer's quiet face.</p> + +<p>"That means 'All's well,'" he said, raising his voice a little. "Let us +congratulate ourselves and turn in!"</p> + +<p>"There has been danger, then, Mr. Gresley?" queried Mrs. Granville, a +lady who liked to know everything in detail.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gresley laughed with an indifference perfectly unaffected. "I +believe the engineers thought so," he said. "I must refer you to them +for particulars. Anyhow, it's all right now. I am going to tell the +steward to bring coffee."</p> + +<p>He got up leisurely and strolled away.</p> + +<p>There was a slight commotion on the other side of the door as he opened +it, a giggle that sounded rather hysterical. A moment later Lady Jane +Grey; her head-gear gone, her shorn curls looking absurdly frivolous, +walked mincingly into the saloon and subsided upon the nearest seat. She +was attended by Captain Fisher, who looked anxious.</p> + +<p>"Such a misfortune!" she remarked, in a squeaky voice that sounded, +somehow, a horrible strain. "I have been shut up in the Tower and have +only just escaped. I trust I am not too late for my execution. I'm +afraid I have kept you all waiting."</p> + +<p>All the heaviness of misgiving passed out of the atmosphere in a burst +of merriment.</p> + +<p>"Where on earth have you been hiding?" shouted Major Granville. "I +believe you have been playing the fool with us, you rascal."</p> + +<p>"I!" cried Charlie. "My dear sir, what are you thinking of? If you were +to breathe such a suspicion as that to the captain he would clap me in +irons for the rest of the voyage."</p> + +<p>"You have been in the engine-room for all that," said Mrs. Langdale, +whose powers of observation were very keen. "Look at your skirt!"</p> + +<p>Charlie glanced at the garment in question. It was certainly the worse +for wear. There were some curious patches in the front that had the +appearance of oil stains.</p> + +<p>"That'll be all right!" he said cheerfully. "I had a fright and tumbled +upstairs. Skirts are beastly awkward things to run away in, aren't they, +Mrs. Langdale? Well, good-night all! I'm going to bed."</p> + +<p>He got up with the words, grinned at everyone collectively, picked up +the injured skirt with exaggerated care, and stepped out of the saloon.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale looked after him, half-laughing, yet with a touch of +concern.</p> + +<p>"He looks queer," she remarked to Molly, who was standing by her. "Quite +white and shaky. I believe something has happened to him. He has hurt +himself in some way."</p> + +<p>But Molly was feeling peculiarly indignant at that moment, though not +on account of her ruined skirt.</p> + +<p>"He's a silly poltroon!" she said with emphasis, and walked stiffly +away.</p> + +<p>Charlie Cleveland had recovered from his serious fit even sooner than +she had thought possible; and, though she had made it sufficiently clear +to him that as a serious suitor he was utterly unwelcome, she was +intensely angry with him for having so swiftly resumed his customary gay +spirits.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_IV'></a><h3>IV</h3> + +<p>"Come! What happened last evening? We want to know," said Major +Granville, in his slightly overbearing manner. "I saw you with the +second engineer this morning, Fisher. I'm sure you have ferreted it +out."</p> + +<p>"I am not at liberty to pass on my information," responded Fisher +stolidly. "You wouldn't understand it if I did, Major. There was danger +and there was steam. Two of the engineers had their arms scalded, and +one of the stokers was badly hurt. I can't tell you any more than that."</p> + +<p>"Do you go so far as to say that the ship herself was in danger?" asked +Major Granville. He was talking loudly, as was his wont, across the +smoking saloon.</p> + +<p>"I should say so," said Fisher, without lifting his eyes from the +magazine he was deliberately studying.</p> + +<p>"Where is young Cleveland this morning?" asked the Major abruptly.</p> + +<p>Fisher shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"He was in his bunk when I saw him last. Heaven knows what he may be up +to by now."</p> + +<p>Charlie Cleveland strolled in at this juncture. He had his right arm in +a sling.</p> + +<p>"Hullo!" he said. "How are you all? I'm on the sick-list to-day. I +sprained my wrist when I fell up the steps yesterday."</p> + +<p>Fisher glanced at him for a moment over the top of his magazine and +resumed his reading in silence.</p> + +<p>"Look here, my friend!" he said. "You were in the thick of this engine +business. I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>"I was," said Charlie readily. "But for me you would all be at the +bottom of the sea by this time."</p> + +<p>He threw himself into a chair with a broad grin at Major Granville's +contemptuous countenance and took up a book.</p> + +<p>Major Granville looked intensely disgusted. It was scarcely credible +that a passenger could have penetrated to the engine-room and interfered +with the machinery there, yet he more than half believed that this +outrageous thing had actually occurred. He got up after a brief silence +and stalked stiffly from the saloon.</p> + +<p>Charlie banged down his book with a yell of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you, Fisher?" he cried. "He's gone to have a good, +square, face-to-face talk with the captain. But he won't get anything +out of him. I've been there first."</p> + +<p>He went up on deck and found a party of quoit-players. Molly Erle was +among them. Charlie stood and watched, yelling advice and +encouragement.</p> + +<p>"Looking on as usual?" the girl said to him presently, with a bitter +little smile, as she found herself near him.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"I'm really afraid to speak to you to-day," he said. "Your skirt will +never again bear the light of day."</p> + +<p>"What happened?" she said briefly.</p> + +<p>The game was over, and they strolled away together across the deck.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you," he said, with ill-suppressed gaiety in his voice. "We +should all have been blown out of the water last night if it hadn't been +for me. Forgetful of my finery, I went and—looked on. The magic result +was that I saved the situation, and—incidentally, of course—the ship."</p> + +<p>He stopped.</p> + +<p>"You don't believe me?" he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>Her lip curled a little.</p> + +<p>"Do you really expect to be believed?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he said; "I thought it was the usual thing to do between +friends."</p> + +<p>"I was not aware—" began Molly.</p> + +<p>He broke in with a most disarming smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please," he said. "I don't deserve that—anyhow. I'm awfully sorry +about the skirt. I hope you'll let me bear the cost of the damage. I've +got into hot water all round. Nobody will believe I'm seriously sorry, +though it's a fact for all that. Don't be hard on me, Molly, I say!"</p> + +<p>There was a note of genuine pleading in the last words that induced her +to relent a little.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I'll forgive you for the skirt," she said. "I suppose boys +can't help being mischievous, though you are nearly old enough to know +better."</p> + +<p>She looked at him as she said it. His face was comically penitent. +Somehow she could not quarrel with the lurking smile in his merry eyes. +He was certainly a boy. He would never be anything else. But Molly did +not realise this, and she was still too young herself to have +appreciated the gift of perpetual youth had she been aware of its +existence.</p> + +<p>"That's right!" said Charlie cheerily. "And perhaps"—he spoke +cautiously, with a half-deprecatory glance at her bright +face—"perhaps—in time, you know—you will be able to forgive me for +something else as well."</p> + +<p>"I think the less we say about that the better," remarked Molly, tilting +her chin a little.</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Charlie equably. "Only, you know"—his voice was +suddenly grave—"I was—and am—in earnest."</p> + +<p>Molly laughed.</p> + +<p>"So far as in you lies, I suppose?" she said indifferently. "I wonder if +you ever really did anything worth doing in your life, Mr. Cleveland."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would call me Charlie!" he said impulsively. "Yes. I +proposed to you last night. Wasn't that worth doing?"</p> + +<p>She drew her brows together in a quick frown, but she made no reply. +Fisher was drifting towards them. She turned deliberately, her head very +high, and strolled to meet him.</p> + +<p>Charlie glanced over his shoulder, stood a moment irresolute, then +walked away more soberly than usual towards the bridge, where he was a +constant and welcome visitor.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_V'></a><h3>V</h3> + +<p>"There are plenty of fine chaps in the world who aren't to be recognised +as such at first sight," drawled Bertie Richmond to his young cousin, +Molly Erle, who was sitting with her feet on the fender on a very cold +winter evening.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of that," said Mrs. Richmond from the other side of the fire, +with a tender glance at her husband's loosely knit figure. "I never +thought there was an inch of heroism in you, Bertie darling, till that +day when we went punting and we got upset. How brave you were! I've +never forgotten it. It was the beginning of everything."</p> + +<p>"It sounds as if it were nearer being the end," remarked Molly, who +systematically avoided all sentiment. "I don't believe myself that any +man can be actually heroic and yet not betray it somehow."</p> + +<p>"You're wrong," said Bertie.</p> + +<p>"I don't think so," said Molly. She could be quite as obstinate as most +women, and this was a point upon which she was very decided.</p> + +<p>"I'll prove it," said Bertie, with quiet determination. "There's a chap +coming with the crowd of sportsmen to-morrow who is the bravest and, I +think, the best fellow I ever met. I shan't tell you who he is. I'll +leave you to find out—if you can. But I don't believe you will."</p> + +<p>"I am quite sure I can tell the difference between a looker-on, a mere +loafer, and a man who does," said Molly, with absolute confidence.</p> + +<p>"Bet you you don't!" murmured Bertie Richmond, smiling at the ceiling. +"I know the woman's theory so jolly well."</p> + +<p>Molly smiled also.</p> + +<p>"I'll take your bet, whatever it is, Bertie," she said.</p> + +<p>Bertie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't bet on a dead cert," he said comfortably. "I'll even tell +you the fellow's heroic deeds, and then you'll never spot him. I met him +first in South Africa. He saved my life twice. Once he carried me nearly +a mile under fire, and got wounded in the process. Another time he sat +all night under fire holding a fellow's artery. Since then he has been +knocking about in odd corners, doing splendid things in the dark, as it +were, for he is horribly modest. The last I heard of him was from my +friend Captain Raglan. He travelled on Raglan's ship from Calcutta, One +night in the Mediterranean something went wrong in the engine-room. Two +of the boat's engineers were badly scalded. They managed to get away, +but a wretched stoker was too hurt to escape, and this fellow—this hero +of mine—went down into a perfect inferno and got him out. Not only +that, he went back afterwards with one of the engineers to direct him, +and worked like a bull till the mischief was put right. There was danger +of an explosion every moment, but he never lost his nerve for an +instant. When it was over everyone concerned was sworn to secrecy, and +not a passenger on board that boat knew what had actually taken place. +As I said before, he is not the sort of chap anyone would credit with +that sort of heroism. I shan't tell you what he is like in other +respects."</p> + +<p>"I probably know," said Molly. "I came home on Captain Raglan's ship in +the autumn."</p> + +<p>"What! You were on board?" exclaimed Bertie. "What a rum go! You will +meet one or two old friends, then. And the hero is probably known to you +already, though I'm sure you have never taken him for such."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you're quite wrong!" laughed Molly. "I have known him and detected +his splendid qualities for quite a long while. He is nice, isn't he? I +am glad he is coming."</p> + +<p>She took up her book with slightly heightened colour, and began to turn +over its pages.</p> + +<p>Bertie Richmond stared at her in silence for some moments.</p> + +<p>"Well!" he said at last. "You have got sharper insight than any woman I +know."</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Molly, with an indifferent laugh. "But you are not so +awfully great on that point yourself, are you, Bertie? I should say you +are scarcely a competent judge."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Richmond protested on Bertie's behalf, but without effect. Molly +was slightly vexed with him for imagining that she could be so dull.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_VI'></a><h3>VI</h3> + +<p>The great country house was invaded by a host of guests on the following +day. Portmanteaux and gun-cases were continually in evidence. The place +was filled to overflowing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale, who was Mrs. Richmond's greatest friend, arrived in +excellent spirits, and was delighted to find Molly Erle a fellow-guest.</p> + +<p>"And actually," she said, "Charlie Cleveland and Captain Fisher are +going to swell the throng of sportsmen. We shall imagine ourselves back +in our old board-ship days. Charlie was talking about them and of all +the fun we had only last Saturday. Yes, I have seen him several times +lately. He has been staying in town, waiting for something to turn up, +he says. Funny boy! He is just as gay as ever. And Captain Fisher, whom +he dragged to my flat to tea, is every bit as heavy and uninteresting, +poor dear!"</p> + +<p>"I don't call Captain Fisher uninteresting," remarked Molly. "At least, +I never found him so in the old days."</p> + +<p>"My dear, he is heavy as lead!" declared Mrs. Langdale. "I believe he +only opened his mouth once to speak, and then it was to ask for five +lumps of sugar instead of three. A most wearing person to entertain. I +will never have him at my table without Charlie to raise the gloom. He +and Charlie seemed to have decided to join forces for the present. They +spent Christmas together with Captain Fisher's people. I don't know if +they are as sober as he is. If so, poor dear Charlie must have felt +distinctly out of his element. But his spirits are wonderful. I believe +he would make a tombstone laugh."</p> + +<p>"It will be nice to see him again," said Molly tolerantly. "It is three +months now since we dispersed."</p> + +<p>She made the remark with another thought in her mind. Surely by this +Charlie would have forgotten the folly that had caused her annoyance in +the old days! Constancy was the very last quality with which she +credited him. Or so at least she thought.</p> + +<p>She went for a walk on the rocky shore that afternoon, meeting the +steely north-east blast with a good deal of resolution, if scant +enjoyment. Something in the immediate future she found vaguely +disquieting, something connected with Charlie Cleveland.</p> + +<p>She did not believe that her estimate of this young man was in any way +wide of the mark. And yet the thought of meeting him again had in it a +disturbing element for which she could not account. It worried her a +good deal that wild afternoon in January. Perhaps a suspicion that she +had once done young Cleveland an injustice strengthened the unwelcome +sense of regret, for it felt like regret in her mind.</p> + +<p>Yet as she turned homeward along the windy shore one comforting +reflection came to her and remained with her. She was at least +unfeignedly glad that Captain Fisher was going to be there. She liked +those silent, strong men who did all the hard work and then stood aside +to let the tide of praise and admiration flood past.</p> + +<p>Right well did her cousin's description fit this quiet hero, she told +herself with flushed cheeks.</p> + +<p>She remembered how he had spoken of him as "doing splendid things in the +dark, as it were," as being "horribly modest." Fisher's heavy +personality came before her with the memory. She could detect the +heroism behind the grave exterior with which this man baffled all +others.</p> + +<p>If Charlie had been a hero, too, instead of a frivolous imp of mischief!</p> + +<p>A sigh rose in her heart. Somehow, even though she told herself she had +no interest in the matter, Molly wished that he were something more +valuable than the flippant looker-on she took him to be. How could any +man, who was worth anything, bear to be only that, she wondered?</p> + +<p>She found a large party gathered in the hall at tea on her return. A +laugh she knew fell on her ears as she entered, and an instant later she +was aware of Charlie springing to meet her, his brown face aglow with +the smile of welcome.</p> + +<p>"How awfully good to meet you here, Molly!" he said, with that audacious +use of her Christian name against which no protest of hers seemed to +take any effect.</p> + +<p>She shook hands with him and she tried to do it coldly, but his warm +grasp was close and lingering. She realised with something of a shock +that he really was as glad as he professed to be to see her again.</p> + +<p>She went forward to the group around the fire and shook hands with all +she knew.</p> + +<p>Captain Fisher was the last to receive this attention. He was standing +in the background. He moved forward half a pace to greet her. In his own +peculiar, dumb fashion he also seemed pleased to meet her there.</p> + +<p>He had an untasted cup of tea in his hand which he hastened to pass on +to her.</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't accept it if I were you," laughed Mrs. Langdale. "I saw ten +lumps of sugar go into it just now."</p> + +<p>Fisher raised his eyebrows, but made no verbal protest. He never spoke +if a gesture would do as well.</p> + +<p>Molly accepted the cup of tea with a gracious smile, and Fisher found +her a chair and sat silently down beside her.</p> + +<p>Molly had plenty to say at all times. Her companion did not embarrass +her by his lack of responsiveness as he embarrassed most people. She had +a feeling that his reticence did not spring from inattention.</p> + +<p>"I am going to let you have the Silent Fish, as Charlie calls him, for +partner at dinner," her hostess said to her later. "You are a positive +marvel, Molly. He becomes quite genial under your influence."</p> + +<p>Fisher brightened considerably when he found himself allotted to Molly. +He even conversed a little, and went so far as to seek her out in the +drawing-room later.</p> + +<p>Charlie, who was making tracks in the same direction, turned sharply +away when he saw it, and went off to the billiard-room where several of +the rest were collected playing pool. He was in uproarious spirits, and +the whole gathering was speedily infected thereby.</p> + +<p>The evening ended in a boisterous abandonment to childish games, and the +party broke up at midnight, exhausted but still merry. Charlie, after an +animated sponge-fight with half-a-dozen other sportsmen, finally effaced +himself by bolting into Fisher's bedroom and locking himself in.</p> + +<p>To Fisher, who was smoking peacefully by the fire, he made hurried +apology, to which Fisher gruffly responded by requesting him to get out.</p> + +<p>But Charlie, after listening to the babel dying away down the corridor, +turned round with a smile and established himself at comfortable length +on Fisher's bed.</p> + +<p>"I want to talk to you, dear old fellow," he tenderly remarked. "Can you +spare me a few moments of your valuable time?"</p> + +<p>"Two minutes," said Fisher with brevity.</p> + +<p>"By Jove! What generosity!" ejaculated Charlie, his hands clasped behind +his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "It's rather a delicate matter. +However, here goes! Do you seriously mean business, or don't you? Are +you in sober earnest, or aren't you? Are you badly smitten, or are you +only just beginning to hover round the candle? Pardon my mixture of +similes! The meaning remains intact."</p> + +<p>Silence followed his somewhat involved speech. After a pause Captain +Fisher got up slowly, and turned round to face the boy on his bed.</p> + +<p>"Whatever your meaning may be, I don't fathom it," he said curtly.</p> + +<p>Charlie rolled on to his side to look at him.</p> + +<p>"Dense as a London fog," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"You'd better go," said Fisher, dropping his cigarette into the fire and +beginning to undress.</p> + +<p>Charlie sat up and watched him with an air of interest. Fisher took no +more notice of him. There was no waste of ceremony between these two.</p> + +<p>Charlie got up at last and laid sudden hands on his friend's square +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I think it wouldn't hurt you to give me a straight answer, old boy," he +said, a flicker of something that was not mischief in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Fisher faced him instantly.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want to know?" he inquired bluntly.</p> + +<p>"This only," Charlie said, with perfect steadiness. "Are you going in +for Miss Erle in solid earnest or are you not? I want to know your +intentions, that's all."</p> + +<p>"I can't enlighten you, then," returned Fisher.</p> + +<p>Charlie laughed without effort.</p> + +<p>"Cautious old duffer!" he said. "Well, tell me this! I've no right to +ask it. Only somehow I've got to know. You care for her, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Fisher looked at him keenly for a moment. "Why do you ask?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's infernal impertinence, of course. I admit that," said Charlie, +his tanned face growing suddenly red. "I suspected it, you see, ages +ago—on board ship, in fact. Is it true, then?"</p> + +<p>Fisher turned abruptly from him, and began to wind his watch with +extreme care. He spoke at length with his back turned on Charlie, who +was waiting with extraordinary patience for his answer.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said deliberately. "It is true."</p> + +<p>"Go on and prosper!" said Charlie with a gay laugh. "You have my +blessing, old chap. Thanks for telling me!"</p> + +<p>He moved up to Fisher and thrust out an immense brown paw.</p> + +<p>"Take a friend's advice, man!" he said. "Ask her soon!"</p> + +<p>Then he bounced out of the room with his usual brisk energy, and shut +the door noisily behind him.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_VII'></a><h3>VII</h3> + +<p>Was it by happy accident or by some kind friend's deliberate provision +that Fisher found himself walking alone with Molly Erle to church on the +following Sunday? Across the frosty park the voices of the other +churchgoers sounded fitfully distinct.</p> + +<p>Charlie Cleveland and another boy called Archie Croft, as hare-brained +as himself, were making Mrs. Langdale slide along the slippery drive. +Mrs. Langdale's laughter could be plainly heard. Molly thought her, +privately, rather childish to suffer herself to be thus carried away.</p> + +<p>Her companion was sauntering very slowly at her side.</p> + +<p>"I think we are late," Molly presently remarked, in a suggestive tone.</p> + +<p>"Are we?" said Fisher. "Does it matter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Molly with decision. "I don't like going in after the +service has begun."</p> + +<p>"We won't," said Fisher.</p> + +<p>She looked at him in some surprise and found him gravely watching her.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we ought to do that," she remarked, smiling a little.</p> + +<p>"I'll go with you to-night," said Fisher, "if you will come with me +now."</p> + +<p>They had come to a path that branched off towards the shore. He stopped +with an air of determination.</p> + +<p>Molly stopped too, looking irresolute. Her heart was beating very fast. +She wished he would turn his eyes away.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he took his hand from his pocket and held it out to her.</p> + +<p>"Come with me, Miss Erle!" he said, in a quiet tone.</p> + +<p>She hesitated momentarily, then as he waited she put her hand in his.</p> + +<p>She glanced up at him as she did so, her face a glow of colour.</p> + +<p>"How far, Captain Fisher?" she said faintly.</p> + +<p>"All the way," said Fisher, with a sudden smile that illuminated his +sombre countenance like a searchlight on a dark sea.</p> + +<p>Molly laughed softly.</p> + +<p>"How far is that?" she said.</p> + +<p>He drew the little hand to his breast and put his free arm round her.</p> + +<p>"Further than we can see, Molly," he said, and his quiet voice suddenly +thrilled. "Side by side through eternity."</p> + +<p>Thus, with no word of love, did Fisher the Silent take to himself the +priceless gift of love. And the girl he wooed loved him the better for +that which he left unuttered.</p> + +<p>They returned home late for lunch, entering sheepishly, and sitting down +as far apart as the length of the table would allow.</p> + +<p>Charlie fell upon Fisher with merciless promptitude.</p> + +<p>"You base defaulter!" he cried. "I'll see you march in front next time. +I was never more scandalised in my life than when I realised that you +and Molly had done a slope."</p> + +<p>Fisher shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and offered no explanation +of his and Molly's defection.</p> + +<p>Charlie kept up a running fire of chaff for some time, to which Fisher, +as was his wont, showed himself to be perfectly indifferent. Lunch over, +Molly disappeared. Charlie saw her go and turned instantly to Fisher.</p> + +<p>"Come and have a single on the asphalt court!" he said. "I haven't tried +it yet. I want to."</p> + +<p>Fisher was reluctant, but yielded to persuasion.</p> + +<p>They went off together, Charlie with an affectionate arm round his +friend's shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I am to congratulate, I suppose?" he asked, as they crossed the garden +to the tennis-court.</p> + +<p>Fisher looked at him gravely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You may, if it gives you any pleasure to do so, my boy," he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's good!" said Charlie. "You're a jolly good fellow, old chap. +You'll make her awfully happy."</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best," Fisher said.</p> + +<p>Charlie passed instantly to less serious matters, but the critical look +did not pass entirely from Fisher's face. He seemed to be watching for +something, for some card that Charlie did not appear disposed to play.</p> + +<p>Throughout the hard set that followed, his vigilance did not relax; but +Charlie played with all his customary zest. Tennis was to him for the +time being the only thing worth doing on the face of the earth. In his +enthusiasm he speedily stripped off his coat and rolled his sleeves to +the shoulder as if it had been the hottest summer day.</p> + +<p>At the end of the set, which Charlie won, a couple of spectators who had +come up unseen applauded their energy, and Charlie, swinging round in +flushed triumph, raced up for a word with his host and Molly Erie.</p> + +<p>"I can't stuff over a fire all the afternoon," he said. "But the light +is getting bad, isn't it? Fisher and I will have to knock off. Are you +two going for a walk? We'll come, too, if you are, eh, Fisher?"</p> + +<p>He turned towards Fisher, who had come up, and held out his hand for the +other's racquet.</p> + +<p>Molly uttered a sudden startled exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Why, Charlie," she ejaculated, "what have you done to your arm? What is +the matter with it?"</p> + +<p>Charlie jumped at her startled tone and tore down his shirt-sleeve +hastily.</p> + +<p>"An old wound," he said, with a shame-faced laugh.</p> + +<p>She put her gloved hand swiftly on his to stay his operations.</p> + +<p>"No, tell me!" she said. "What is it—really? How was it done?"</p> + +<p>"You will never get him to tell you that," laughed Bertie Richmond. "You +had better ask Fisher."</p> + +<p>"Oh, rats!" cried Charlie vehemently. "Fisher, I'll break your head with +this racquet if you give my show away. Come along! I believe the moon +has contracted a romantic habit of rising over the sea when the sun +sets. Let's go and——"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you, Molly," broke in Bertie, linking a firm arm in Charlie's +to keep him quiet. "He can't break his host's head, you know. It's a +scald, eh, Charlie? He got it in the engine-room of the <i>Andover</i> one +night in the autumn. You were on board, you know. Help me to hold him, +Fisher! He's getting restive. But I thought you knew all about it, +Molly. You told me so."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know—this!" the girl said. "How could I? I never +guessed—this!"</p> + +<p>Her three listeners were all surprised by the tragic note in her voice. +There was a momentary silence. Then Charlie made a fierce attempt to +wrest himself free.</p> + +<p>"You infernal idiots!" he exclaimed violently. "Fisher, if you interfere +with me any more I—I'll punch your head! Bertie, don't be such a fool!"</p> + +<p>He shook them off with an angry effort. Fisher laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>"You can't always hide your light, my dear fellow," he observed. "If you +will do impossible things, you will have to put up with the penalty of +being occasionally found out."</p> + +<p>"Silly ass!" commented Bertie. "Anyone would think that to save a few +hundred human lives was a thing to be ashamed of. It was the same thing +in South Africa; always slinking off into the background when the work +was done, till everyone took you for nothing but a looker-on—a chap who +ought to wear the V.C., if ever there was one," he ended, thrusting an +arm through Charlie's, as the latter, having put on his coat, turned +once more towards them.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are utterly wrong," the boy said forcibly, almost angrily. "If +you judge a man by what he does on impulse you might decorate the +biggest blackguard in the world with the V.C."</p> + +<p>"You're made of impulse, my dear lad," Bertie remarked, walking off with +him. "You're a mass of impulse. That's why you do such idiotic things."</p> + +<p>Charlie yielded, chafing, to the friendly hand.</p> + +<p>"I should like to kick you, Bertie," he said.</p> + +<p>But he went no further than that. Bertie Richmond was his very good +friend, and he was Bertie's. Neither of them was likely to forget that +fact.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_VIII'></a><h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>"Oh, Charlie, here you are! I <i>am</i> glad!"</p> + +<p>Molly entered the smoking-room with an air of resolution. She had just +returned from evening church with Fisher. They were late, and the latter +had gone off to dress forthwith.</p> + +<p>But Molly had glanced into the smoking-room, and, seeing Charlie alone +there, as she had half hoped but scarcely expected, she entered.</p> + +<p>Charlie sprang up instantly, his brown face exceedingly alert.</p> + +<p>"Come to the fire!" he said hospitably.</p> + +<p>Molly went, but did not sit down. She stood facing him on the +hearth-rug. Her young face was very troubled.</p> + +<p>"I want to tell you," she said steadily, "how sorry—and grieved—I am +for all the hard things I have said and thought of you. I would like to +retract them all. I was quite wrong. I took you for an idler—a buffoon +almost. I know better now. And I—I should like you to forgive me."</p> + +<p>Her voice suddenly faltered. Her eyes were full of tears she could +neither repress nor conceal.</p> + +<p>Charlie, however, seemed to notice nothing strained in the atmosphere. +He broke into a gay laugh and held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all right," he said briskly. "Shake hands and forget what +those asses said about me! You were quite right, you know. I am a +buffoon. There isn't an inch of heroism anywhere about me. You took my +measure long ago, didn't you? To change the subject, I'm most awfully +pleased to hear that you and old Fisher have come to an understanding. +Congratulate you most heartily. There's solid worth in that chap. He +goes straight ahead and never plays the fool."</p> + +<p>He looked straight at her as he spoke. Not by the flicker of an eyelid +did he seem to recall the fact that he had once asked on his own behalf +that which he apparently so heartily approved of her bestowing upon +another.</p> + +<p>Yet Molly, torn with remorse over what was irrevocable, did a most +outrageous thing.</p> + +<p>"Charlie!" she cried, with a deep ringing passion that would not be +suppressed. "Why have I been deceived like this? Why didn't you tell me? +How could you let me imagine anything so false?" She flung out her other +hand to him and he took it; but still he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, Molly!" he protested. "I did tell you, you know. I told you +the day after it happened. Don't you remember? I had to account for the +skirt."</p> + +<p>She wrenched her hands away from him. The thrill of laughter in his +voice seemed to jar all her nerves. She was, moreover, wearied with the +emotions of the day.</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't you see," she cried passionately, "how different it might +have been? If you had told me—if you had made me understand! I could +have cared—I did care—only you seemed to me—unworthy. How could I +know? What chance had I?"</p> + +<p>She bowed her head suddenly, and burst into a storm of bitter weeping.</p> + +<p>Charlie turned white to his lips. He stood perfectly motionless till the +anguished sobbing goaded him beyond endurance. Then he flung round with +a jerk.</p> + +<p>"Stop, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed harshly. "I can't bear it. It's +too much—too much."</p> + +<p>He moved close to her, his face twitching, and took her shaking +shoulders between his hands.</p> + +<p>"Molly!" he said almost violently. "You don't know what you said just +now. You didn't mean it. It has always been Fisher—always, from the +very beginning."</p> + +<p>She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing +as in passionate despair.</p> + +<p>And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the +smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over +the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time.</p> + +<p>Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken +stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy +had never seen there before—a look that it was impossible to ignore.</p> + +<p>Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room.</p> + +<p>"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly.</p> + +<p>He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers.</p> + +<p>"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired—upset. There is +nothing really the matter."</p> + +<p>But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip.</p> + +<p>"I will talk to you presently," he said. "You clear out!"</p> + +<p>He pushed past Charlie and went straight to the girl. His jaw was set +with a determination that would have astonished most of his friends.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Molly?" he said, halting close beside her. "What is wrong, +child?"</p> + +<p>But Molly could not tell him. She turned towards him indeed, laying an +imploring hand on his arm; but she kept her face hidden and uttered no +word.</p> + +<p>It was Charlie who plunged recklessly into the opening breach—plunged +with a wholesale gallantry, regardless of everything but the moment's +emergency.</p> + +<p>"It's my doing, Fisher," he declared, his voice shaking a little. "I've +been making an ass of myself. It was, partly your fault, too—yours and +Bertie's. Let her go! I'll explain."</p> + +<p>He was excited and he spoke quickly, but his eyes were very steady.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said, "you go upstairs! You've got to dress, you know, and +you'll be late. I'll make it all right. Don't you worry yourself!"</p> + +<p>Molly lifted a perfectly white face and looked at Fisher. She met his +eyes, struggled with herself a moment, then with quivering lips turned +slowly away. He did not try to stop her. He realised that Charlie must +be disposed of before he attempted to extract an explanation from her.</p> + +<p>Charlie sprang to the door, shut it hastily after her, and turned the +key.</p> + +<p>"Now!" he said, and, wheeling, marched straight back to Fisher and +halted before him. "You want an explanation. You shall have one. You +gave my show away this afternoon. You made her imagine that in taking me +for an ordinary—or perhaps I should say a rather extraordinary—fool +she had done me an injustice. She came in her sweetness and told me she +was sorry. And I—forgot myself, and said things that made her cry. That +is the whole matter."</p> + +<p>"What did you say to her?" demanded Fisher.</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to tell you."</p> + +<p>"You shall tell me!" said Fisher.</p> + +<p>He took a step forward, all the hidden force in him risen to the +surface.</p> + +<p>Charlie faced him for a second with his head flung defiantly back, then, +as Fisher laid a powerful hand on his shoulder, he stuck his hands in +his pockets and smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"No, old chap," he said. "I'll apologise to you, if you like. But you +haven't any right to ask for more."</p> + +<p>"I have a right to know why what you said upset her," Fisher said.</p> + +<p>Charlie shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Not the smallest," he said. "But I should have thought your imagination +might have accomplished that much. Surely you needn't grudge the tears +of pity a woman wastes over a man she has had to disappoint?"</p> + +<p>He spoke with his eyes on Fisher's face. He was not afraid of Fisher, +yet his look of relief was unmistakable as the hand on his shoulder +relaxed.</p> + +<p>"You care for her, then?" Fisher said.</p> + +<p>Charlie flung impetuously away from him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, need we discuss the thing any further?" he said. "I'm on the wrong +side of the hedge, and that's enough. I hope you won't say any more to +her about it. You will only distress her."</p> + +<p>He walked to the end of the room and came slowly back to Fisher, whose +eyes were sternly fixed upon him. He thrust out his hand impulsively.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, old chap!" he said. "After all, I've got the hardest part."</p> + +<p>Fisher's face softened.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, boy," he said, and took the proffered hand.</p> + +<p>"I'll clear out to-morrow," Charlie said. "You'll forget this foolery of +mine?" gripping Fisher's hand hard for a moment.</p> + +<p>Fisher did not answer him. He struck him instead a sounding blow on the +shoulder, and Charlie turned away satisfied. He had played a difficult +game with considerable skill. That it had been a losing game did not at +the moment enter into his calculations. He had not played for his own +stakes.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_IX'></a><h3>IX</h3> + +<p>"Jove! It's a wild night," said Archie Croft comfortably, as he +stretched out his legs to the smoking-room fire. "What's become of +Charlie? He doesn't usually retire early."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe he has retired," said Bertie Richmond sleepily. "I saw +him go out something over an hour ago."</p> + +<p>"Out?" said Croft. "What on earth for?"</p> + +<p>"Up to some fool trick or other, no doubt," said Fisher from the +smoking-room sofa.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Fisher! I thought you were asleep," said Bertie. "You ought to +be. It's after midnight. Time we all turned in if we mean to start early +with the guns to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Croft stretched himself and rose leisurely.</p> + +<p>"It's a positively murderous night!" he remarked, strolling to the +window. "There must be a tremendous sea."</p> + +<p>He drew aside the blind, staring at the blackness that seemed to press +against the pane. A moment later, with a sharp exclamation, he ripped +back the blind and flung the window wide open. An icy spout of rain and +snow whirled into the room. Richmond turned round to expostulate, but +was met by a face of such wild excitement that his protest remained +unuttered.</p> + +<p>"I saw a rocket!" Croft declared.</p> + +<p>"Oh, rats!" murmured Fisher.</p> + +<p>"It isn't rats!" he said indignantly. "It's a ship down among those +infernal rocks. I'm off to see what's doing."</p> + +<p>"Hi! Wait a minute!" exclaimed his host, starting up. "You are perfectly +certain, are you, Croft? No humbug? I heard no report."</p> + +<p>"Who could hear anything in a gale like this?" returned Croft +impatiently. "Yes, of course, I am certain. Are you coming?"</p> + +<p>"I must send a man on horseback to the life-boat station," said Bertie, +starting towards the door. "It's two miles round the headland. They may +not know there is anything up."</p> + +<p>He was out of the room with the words. The rest of the men in the +smoking-room followed. Fisher remained to shut the window. He stood a +couple of seconds before it, facing the hurricane. The night was like +pitch. The angry roar of the sea half-a-mile away surged up on the +tearing gale like the voice of a devouring monster. He turned away into +the cosy room and followed the others.</p> + +<p>The whole party went out into the raging night. They groped their way +after Bertie to the stables. A groom was dispatched on horseback to the +life-boat station. Lanterns were then procured, and, with the blast full +in their teeth, they fought their way to the shore.</p> + +<p>Here were darkness and desolation unspeakable. The tide was high. Great +waves, flashing white through the darkness, came smiting through the +rocks as if they would rend the very surface of the earth apart. The +clouds scurrying overhead uncovered a star or two and instantly drew +together in impenetrable darkness.</p> + +<p>Down by the sea-wall that protected the little village nestling between +the cliffs and the sea they found a knot of men and women. A short +distance away in the boiling tumult there shone a shifting light, but +between it and the shore the storm-god held undisputed possession.</p> + +<p>"That's her!" explained one of the men to Bertie Richmond. "She's sunk +right down in them rocks, sir. It's a little schooner. I see her masts +a-stickin' up just now."</p> + +<p>The man was one of his own gardeners. He yelled his information into +Bertie's ear with great enjoyment.</p> + +<p>"Have you sent to the lifeboat chaps?" shouted Bertie.</p> + +<p>"Young gentleman went an hour ago," came the answer. "But they are off +on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to +go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o' +rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit +o' eggshell. There's only three chaps aboard as far as we could see +awhile ago. And not a hundred yards off us. But it's a hundred yards of +death, as you might say. No boat could live through it. It ain't worth +the trying."</p> + +<p>A hundred yards of death and only three little human lives to be gained +by the awful risk of braving that hundred yards!</p> + +<p>Bertie turned away, feeling sick, yet silently agreeing. Who could hope +to pass unharmed through that raging darkness, that tossing nightmare of +great waters? Yet the thought of those three lives beating outward in +agony and terror while he and his friends stood helplessly by took him +by the throat.</p> + +<p>Suddenly through a lull of the tempest there came a great shout.</p> + +<p>The clouds had drifted asunder and a few stars shone vaguely down on the +wild scene. The dim light showed the doomed vessel wedged among the +rocks that stuck up, black and threatening, through the racing foam.</p> + +<p>Nearer at hand, huddled on the stout sea-wall, stood the little group of +watchers, their faces all turned outwards towards the two masts of the +little schooner, which remained faintly discernible through the shifting +gloom.</p> + +<p>It was not more than a hundred yards away, Bertie realised. Yet the +impossibility of rescue was as apparent as if it had been a hundred +miles from land. He fancied he could see a couple of figures half-way up +one of the masts, but the light was elusive. He could not be certain of +this.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a hand gripped his elbow, and he found Archie Croft beside him, +yelling excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Don't let him go!" he bawled. "It's madness—sheer madness!"</p> + +<p>Bertie turned sharply. Close to him, his head bare, and clothed still in +evening dress, stood Charlie Cleveland. A coil of rope lay at his feet. +He had knotted one end firmly round his body.</p> + +<p>"Listen, you fellows!" he cried. "I'm going to have a shot at it. Pay +out the rope as I go. Count up to five hundred, and if it is limp, pull +it in again. If it holds, make it fast! Got me?"</p> + +<p>He turned at once to a flight of iron steps that led off the wall down +into the awful, seething water. But someone, Fisher, sprang suddenly +after him and held him back. Charlie wheeled instantly. The light of a +lantern striking on his face revealed it, unafraid, even laughing.</p> + +<p>"You silly ass!" he cried. "Hang on to the rope instead of behaving like +a fellow's grandmother!"</p> + +<p>"You shan't do it!" Fisher said, holding him fast. "It is certain +death!"</p> + +<p>"All right," Charlie yelled back. "I choose death, then. I prefer it to +sitting still and seeing others die. My life is my own. I choose to risk +it."</p> + +<p>He looked at Fisher closely for a moment, then, with one immense effort, +he wrenched himself away. He went leaping down the steps as a boy going +for a summer-morning dip.</p> + +<p>Fisher turned round and met Bertie Richmond hurrying to help him.</p> + +<p>"Let him go!" Fisher said briefly.</p> + +<p>Thereafter came a terrible interval of waiting. The sky was clearing, +but the tempest did not abate. The rope ran out with jerks and pauses. +Fisher stood and counted at the head of the steps, his eyes on the +tumult that had swallowed up the slight active figure of the one man +among them all who had elected to risk his life against those +overwhelming odds.</p> + +<p>"He must be dashed to pieces!" Bertie Richmond gasped to himself, with a +shudder.</p> + +<p>The rope ceased to run. Fisher had counted four hundred and fifty. He +counted on resolutely to five hundred, then turned and raised his hand +to the men who held the coil. They hauled at the rope. It was limp. Hand +over hand they dragged it in through the foam. Fisher peered downwards. +It came so rapidly that he thought it must have parted among the rocks. +Then he saw a dark object bobbing strangely among the waves. He went +down the steps, that quivered and trembled like cardboard under his +feet.</p> + +<p>Clinging to the iron rail, he reached out a hand and guided the rope to +him. A great sea broke over him and nearly swept him off. He saved +himself by hanging with both hands on to the rope. Thus he was dragged +up the steps to safety, and behind him, buffeted, bleeding, helpless, +came two limp bodies lashed fast together.</p> + +<p>They cut the two asunder by the light of the lanterns, and one of them, +Charlie, staggered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"I've got to go back!" he gasped. "You pulled too soon. There are two +others."</p> + +<p>He dashed the blood from his face, seized a pocket flask someone held +out to him, and drained it at a long gulp.</p> + +<p>"That's better!" he said. "That you, Fisher? Good-bye, old chap!"</p> + +<p>The first pale light of a rising moon burst suddenly through the cloud +drift.</p> + +<p>"I'll go myself," Fisher abruptly said.</p> + +<p>Even in that roar of sound they heard the boyish laugh that rang out +upon the words.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" shouted Charlie. "Bless you, dear fellow! But this is my +job—alone. You've got to stay behind—you're wanted."</p> + +<p>He stood a few seconds poising himself on the steps, drawing deep +breaths in preparation for the coming struggle. The moonlight smote upon +him. He lifted his face to it, and seemed to hesitate. Then suddenly he +turned to Fisher and laid impetuous hands upon his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Lookers-on see most of the game," he said. "And I've been one from the +first, though I own I thought at one time I should like to take a hand. +Go on and prosper, old boy! You've played a winning game all along, you +know. You're a better chap than I am, and it's you she really cares +for—always has been. That's how I came to know what I'd got to do. I +find it's easy—thank God!—it's very easy."</p> + +<p>And with that he plunged down again into the breakers. The tide was on +the turn. The worst fury was over. The awful darkness had lifted.</p> + +<p>Those who mutely watched him fancied they heard him laugh as he met the +crested waves.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Looker_On_X'></a><h3>X</h3> + +<p>Molly had spent a night of feverish restlessness. It was with a feeling +of relief that she answered a tap that came at her door in the early +dusk of the January morning; but she gave a start of surprise when she +saw Mrs. Langdale enter.</p> + +<p>She started up on her elbow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, what is it? It has been a fearful night. Has something dreadful +happened?" she cried.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale's usually merry face was pale and quiet. She went quickly +to the girl's side and took her hands into a tight clasp.</p> + +<p>"My dear," she said, "Gerald Fisher asked me to come and tell you. There +has been a wreck in the night. A vessel ran on to the rocks. There were +three men on board. They could not reach them with an ordinary boat, and +the life-boat was not available."</p> + +<p>"Go on!" gasped Molly, her eyes on her friend's face.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale went on, with an effort.</p> + +<p>"Charlie Cleveland—dear fellow—went out to them with a rope. He +reached them, brought one safely back, returned for the +others—and—and—" Her voice failed. Her hands tightened upon Molly's; +they were very cold. "He managed to get to them again," she whispered, +"but—the rope wasn't long enough. He unlashed himself and bound them +together. They pulled them ashore—both living. But—he—was lost!"</p> + +<p>The composure suddenly forsook Mrs. Langdale's face. She hid it on +Molly's pillow.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Molly, that darling boy!" she cried, with a burst of tears. "And +they say he went to his death—laughing."</p> + +<p>"He would," Molly said, in a strange voice. "I always knew he would."</p> + +<p>She lay back again. Her face was suddenly pinched and grey, but she felt +not the smallest desire to cry.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why!" she presently said. "How I wonder why!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale recovered herself with an effort. The frozen voice seemed +to give her strength.</p> + +<p>"Have we any right to ask that?" she whispered. "No one on this side can +ever know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I think you are wrong," Molly said. "We can't be meant to grope in +outer darkness."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale whispered something about "those the gods love." She was +too broken-down herself to be able to offer any solid comfort.</p> + +<p>After a painful silence she got up and busied herself with reviving +Molly's fire, which had almost gone out. She felt as she had felt only +once before in her life, and that had been ten years previously, when +her only child had died suddenly. She wished passionately that she were +back in Calcutta with her husband. She hated the bleak English winter, +the cruel English seas.</p> + +<p>Molly lay quite still for some time, her young face drawn and stricken.</p> + +<p>At length she got up and went to the window. It was a morning of bleak +winds and shifting clouds. The sea was just visible, very far and dim +and grey. She stood a long while gazing stonily out.</p> + +<p>"Can I get you anything, darling?" said Mrs. Langdale's voice softly +behind her.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," the girl said, without turning. "Please leave me; +that's all!"</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Langdale crept away through the hushed house to her own +apartment, there to lay down her head and cry herself exhausted. Dear, +gallant Charlie! Her heart ached for him. His irrepressible gaiety, his +reckless generosity, these had become the attributes of a hero for ever +in her eyes.</p> + +<p>After a while her hostess came to her, pale and tearful, to beg her, if +she possibly could, to show herself at the breakfast table. Captain +Fisher had repeatedly asked for her, she said; and he seemed very +uneasy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale rose, washed her face, and made an effort to powder away +the evidence of her grief. Then she went bravely down and faced the +silent crowd in the breakfast room. No one was eating anything. The very +air smote chill and cheerless as she entered. As if he had been lying in +wait for her, Fisher pounced upon her on the threshold.</p> + +<p>"I must speak to you for a moment," he said. "Come into the +smoking-room!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale accompanied him without a word.</p> + +<p>"How is she?" he demanded, almost before they entered. "How did she take +it?"</p> + +<p>There was something about Fisher just then with which Mrs. Langdale was +wholly unacquainted. He was alert, impatient, almost feverish. She +answered him with brevity.</p> + +<p>"I think she is stunned by the news."</p> + +<p>He began to pace to and fro with heavy restlessness.</p> + +<p>"Ask her to come to me if she is up!" he said at length. "Tell her—tell +her not to be afraid! Say I am waiting for her. I must see her."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Langdale hesitated.</p> + +<p>"She asked me to leave her alone," she said irresolutely.</p> + +<p>Fisher wheeled swiftly round.</p> + +<p>"I don't think she will refuse to see me," he said. "At least try!"</p> + +<p>There was entreaty in his voice, urgent entreaty, which Mrs. Langdale +found herself unable to withstand.</p> + +<p>She departed therefore on her thankless errand and Fisher flung himself +down at the table with his face buried in his hands. In this room but a +few short hours ago Charlie had faced and turned away his anger with all +the courage and sweetness which, combined, had made of him the hero he +was.</p> + +<p>It seemed to Fisher, looking back upon the interview, that the boy had +done a braver thing, had offered a sacrifice more splendid, there, in +that room, than any he had done or offered a little later down on the +howling shore.</p> + +<p>There came a slight sound at the door and Fisher jerked himself upright. +Molly had entered softly. She was standing, looking at him with a +strange species of wonder on her white face. He rose instantly and went +to meet her.</p> + +<p>"I have something to give you, Molly," he said. She raised her eyes +questioningly.</p> + +<p>"It was brought to me," he said, controlling his voice to quietness with +a strong effort, "after Mrs. Langdale went to tell you of—what had +happened. I wish to give it to you myself. And—afterwards to ask you a +question."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Molly asked, with a sudden sharp eagerness.</p> + +<p>"A note," Fisher said, and gave her a folded paper. "It was found on his +dressing-table, addressed to you. His servant brought it to me."</p> + +<p>Molly's hand trembled as she took the missive.</p> + +<p>Fisher turned away from her, and stood before the window in dead +silence. There was a long, quiet pause. Then a sudden sound made him +swing swiftly round and stride to the door to turn the key. The next +moment he was stooping over Molly, who had sunk down on the hearth-rug +and was sobbing terrible, anguished sobs.</p> + +<p>He lifted her to a chair with no fuss of words, and knelt beside her, +stroking her hair, comforting her, with something of a woman's +tenderness.</p> + +<p>Molly suffered him passively, and the first wild agony of her trouble +spent itself unrestrained on his shoulder. Then she grew calmer, and +presently begged him in a whisper to read the message which Charlie had +left behind him.</p> + +<p>For a moment Fisher hesitated; then, as she repeated her desire, he took +up the scrawl and deliberately read it through. It had evidently been +written immediately after his interview with the writer.</p> + +<div class='blkquot'><p>"Dear Molly," the note said, "It's all right with Fisher, so + don't you worry yourself! I clear out to-morrow, so that there + may be no awkwardness, but we haven't quarrelled, he and I. + Forget all about this business! It's been a mistake from start + to finish. I ought to have known that I was only fit to be a + looker-on when I fell at the first fence. You put your money on + Fisher and you'll never lose a halfpenny! I'm nothing but a + humble spectator, and I wish you—and him also—the best of + luck. If I might be permitted, to offer a little, serious, + fatherly advice, it would be this:</p> + +<p> "Don't let yourself get dazzled by the outside shine of any + man's actions! A man isn't necessarily a hero because he + doesn't run away. It is the true-hearted, steady-going chaps + like Fisher who keep the world wagging. They are the solid + material. The others are only a sort of trimming stuck on for + effect and torn off when the time comes for something new. So + marry the man you love, Molly, and forget that anyone else ever + made a fool of himself for your sweet sake!</p> + +<p> "Your friend for ever,</p> + +<p> "Charlie."</p></div> + +<p>Thus ended, with a simplicity sublime, the few words of fatherly advice +which as a legacy this boy had left behind him.</p> + +<p>Fisher laid the note reverently aside and spoke with a great gentleness.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, dear," he said, "will it make it any easier for you if I go +away? If so—you have only to say so."</p> + +<p>The words cost him greater resolution than any he had ever uttered. Yet +he said them without apparent effort.</p> + +<p>Molly did not answer him for many seconds. Her head drooped a little +lower.</p> + +<p>"I have been—dazzled," she said at last, and there was a piteous quiver +in her voice. "I do not know if I shall ever make you understand."</p> + +<p>"You need never attempt it, Molly," he answered very steadily. "I make +no claim upon you. Simply, I am yours to keep or to throw away. Which +are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>He paused for her answer. But she made none. Only in her trouble it +seemed to him that she clung to his support.</p> + +<p>He drew her a little closer to him.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said very tenderly, "do you want me, child? Shall I stay?"</p> + +<p>And at length she answered him, realising that it was to this man, hero +or no hero, she had given her heart.</p> + +<p>"Yes, stay, Gerald!" she whispered earnestly. "I want you."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Perhaps he understood her better than she thought. Perhaps Charlie's +last words to him had taught him a wisdom to which he had not otherwise +attained. Or perhaps his love was large enough to cover and hide all +that might be lacking in that which she offered to him.</p> + +<p>But at least neither then nor later did he ever seek to know how deeply +the glamour of another man's heroism had pierced her heart. She tried to +whisper an explanation, but he hushed the words unuttered.</p> + +<p>"It is all right, child," he said. "I am satisfied. It is only the +lookers-on who are allowed to see all the cards. I think when we meet +him again he will tell us that we played them right."</p> + +<p>There was a deep quiver in his voice as he spoke, but there was no lack +of confidence in his words. Looking upwards, Molly saw that his eyes +were full of tears.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Second_Fiddle'></a><h2>THE SECOND FIDDLE</h2> +<br /> + +<p>A low whistle floated through the slumbrous silence and died softly away +among the sand-dunes.</p> + +<p>The man who sat in the little wooden summer-house that faced the sea +raised his head from his hand and stared outwards. The signal had +scarcely penetrated to his inner consciousness, but it had vaguely +disturbed his train of thought. His eyes were dull and emotionless as he +stared across the blue, smiling water to the long, straight line of the +horizon. They were heavy also as if he had not slept for weeks, and +there were deep lines about his clean-shaven mouth.</p> + +<p>Before him on the rough, wooden table lay a letter—a letter that he +knew by heart, yet carried always with him. The writing upon it was firm +and regular, but unmistakably a woman's. It began: "Dear Hugh," and it +ended: "Yours very sincerely," and it had been written to tell him that +because he was crippled for life the writer could no longer entertain +the idea of sharing hers with him.</p> + +<p>There had been a ring enclosed with the letter, but this he had not +kept. He had dropped it into the heart of a blazing fire on the day +that he had first been able to move without assistance. He had not done +it in anger. Simply the consciousness of possessing it had been a pain +intolerable to him. So he had destroyed it; but the letter he had kept +through all the dreary months that had followed that awful time. It was +all that was left to him of one whom he had loved passionately, blindly, +foolishly, and who had ceased to love him on the day, now nearly a year +ago, when his friends had ceased to call him by the nickname of +Hercules, that had been his from his boyhood.</p> + +<p>And this was her wedding-day—a day of entrancing sunshine, of magic +breezes, of perfect June.</p> + +<p>He was picturing her to himself as he sat there, just as he had pictured +her often—ah, often—in the old days.</p> + +<p>From his place near the altar he watched her coming towards him up the +great, white-decked church. Her eyes were shining with unclouded +happiness. Behind her bridal veil he caught a glimpse of the exquisite +beauty that chained his heart. Straight towards him the vision moved, +and he—he braced himself to meet it.</p> + +<p>A sharp pang of physical pain suddenly wrung his nerves, and in a moment +the vision had passed from his eyes. He groaned and once more covered +his face. Yes, it was her wedding-day. She was there before the altar in +all the splendour of her youth and her loveliness. But he was alone +with his suffering, his broken life, and the long, long, empty years +stretching away before him.</p> + +<p>He awoke to the soft splashing of the summer tide, out beyond the +sand-dunes, and he heard again the clear, low whistle which before had +disturbed his dream.</p> + +<p>He remained motionless, and a dim, detached wonder crossed his mind. He +had thought himself quite alone.</p> + +<p>Again the whistle sounded. It seemed to come from immediately below him. +Slowly and painfully he raised himself.</p> + +<p>The next instant an enormous Newfoundland dog rushed panting into his +retreat and proceeded to search every inch of the place with violent +haste. The man on the bench sat still and watched him, but when the +animal with a sudden, clumsy movement knocked his crutches on to the +floor and out of his reach, he uttered an exclamation of annoyance.</p> + +<p>The dog gave him a startled glance and continued his headlong +investigation. He was very wet, and he left a trail of sea water +wherever he went. Finally he bounded out as hurriedly as he had entered, +and Hugh Durant was left a prisoner, the nearest of his crutches a full +yard away.</p> + +<p>He sat and stared at them with a heavy frown. His helplessness always +oppressed him far more than the pain he had to endure. He cursed the dog +under his breath.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sorry!" a voice said suddenly some seconds later. "Let me get +them for you!"</p> + +<p>Durant looked round sharply. A brown-faced girl in a short, cotton dress +stood in the doorway. Her head was bare and covered with short, black, +curly hair that shone wet in the sunshine. Her eyes were very blue. For +some reason she looked rather ashamed of herself.</p> + +<p>She moved forward barefooted and picked up Durant's crutches.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, sir," she said again. "I didn't know there was any one here +till I heard Cæsar knock something down."</p> + +<p>She dusted the tops of the crutches with her sleeve and propped them +against the table.</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" said Durant curtly. He was not feeling sociable—he could not +feel sociable—on that day of all days in his life's record.</p> + +<p>Yet, as if attracted by something, the girl lingered.</p> + +<p>"It's lovely down on the shore," she said half shyly.</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Durant, and again his tone was curt to churlishness.</p> + +<p>Then abruptly he felt that he had been unnecessarily surly, and wondered +if he was getting querulous.</p> + +<p>"Been bathing?" he asked, with a brief glance at her wet hair.</p> + +<p>She gave him a quick, friendly smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she said; and added: "Cæsar and I."</p> + +<p>"Fond of the sea, eh?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>The soft eyes shone, and the man, who had been a sailor, told himself +that they were deep-sea eyes.</p> + +<p>"I love it," the girl said very earnestly.</p> + +<p>Her intensity surprised him a little. He had not expected it in one who, +to judge by her dress, must be a child of the humble fisher-folk. His +interest began to awaken.</p> + +<p>"You live near here?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She pointed a brown hand towards the sand-dunes.</p> + +<p>"On the shore, sir," she said. "We hear the waves all night."</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Durant, and his voice was suddenly sharp with a pain he +could not try to silence. "All night and all day."</p> + +<p>She did not seem to notice his tone.</p> + +<p>"You live in the cottage on the cliff?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"I came last week," he said. "I hadn't seen the sea for nearly a year. I +wanted to be alone. And—so I am."</p> + +<p>"All alone?" she queried quickly.</p> + +<p>He nodded again.</p> + +<p>"With my servant," he said. He repeated with a certain doggedness: "I +wanted to be alone."</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The girl was standing in the doorway. Her dog was +basking in the sunshine not a yard away. She looked at the cripple with +thoughtful eyes.</p> + +<p>"I live alone, too," she said. "That is—Cæsar and I."</p> + +<p>That successfully aroused Durant's curiosity.</p> + +<p>"You!" he said incredulously.</p> + +<p>She put up her hand with a quick movement and pushed the short curls +back from her forehead.</p> + +<p>"I am used to it," she said, with an odd womanly dignity. "I have been +practically alone all my life."</p> + +<p>Durant looked at her closely. She spoke in a very low voice, but there +were rich notes in it that caught his attention.</p> + +<p>"Isn't that very unusual for a girl of your age?" he said.</p> + +<p>She smiled again without answering. A blue sunbonnet dangled on her arm. +In the silence that followed she put it on. The great dog arose at the +action, stretched himself, and went to her side. She laid her hand on +his head.</p> + +<p>"We play hide-and-seek, Cæsar and I," she said, "among the dunes."</p> + +<p>Durant took his crutches and stumbled with difficulty to his feet. The +lower part of his body was terribly crippled and weak. Only the broad +shoulders of the man testified to the splendid strength that had once +been his, and could never be his again as long as he lived. He saw the +girl turn her head aside as he moved. The sunbonnet completely hid her +face. A sharp spasm of pain set his own like a stone mask.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she looked round.</p> + +<p>"Will you—will you come and see me some day?" she asked him shyly.</p> + +<p>Her tone was rather of request than invitation, and Durant was curiously +touched. He had a feeling that she awaited his reply with eagerness.</p> + +<p>He smiled for the first time.</p> + +<p>"With pleasure," he said courteously, "if the path is easy and the +distance not too great for my powers."</p> + +<p>"It is quite close," she said readily, "hardly a stone's throw from +here—a little wooden cottage—the first you come to."</p> + +<p>"And you live quite alone?" Durant said.</p> + +<p>"I like it best," she assured him.</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me your name?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"My name is Molly," she answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else?" said Durant with a puzzled frown.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else, sir," she said, with her air of womanly dignity.</p> + +<p>He made no outward comment, but inwardly he wondered. Was this odd +little, dark-haired creature some nameless waif of the sea brought up on +the charity of the fisher-folk, he asked himself.</p> + +<p>She stood aside for him to pass, drawing Cæsar out of his way. He +stopped a moment to pat the dog's head. And so standing, leaning upon +his crutches, he suddenly and keenly looked into the olive-tinted face +that the sunbonnet shadowed.</p> + +<p>"Sorry for me, eh?" he said, and he uttered a laugh that was short and +very bitter.</p> + +<p>She bent down over the dog.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am sorry," she said, almost under her breath.</p> + +<p>Bending lower, she picked up something that lay on the ground between +them.</p> + +<p>"You dropped this," she said.</p> + +<p>He took it from her with a grim hardening of the mouth. It was the +letter he had received from his <i>fiancée</i> a year ago. But his eyes never +left the face of the girl before him.</p> + +<p>"I wonder—" he said abruptly, and stopped.</p> + +<p>There was a pause. The girl waited, her hand nervously caressing the +Newfoundland's curls. She did not raise her eyes, but the lids fluttered +strangely.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," Durant said, and his voice was suddenly kind, "if I might +ask you to do something for me."</p> + +<p>She gave him a swift glance.</p> + +<p>"Please do!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>"This letter," he said, and he held it out to her.</p> + +<p>"I should like it torn up—very small."</p> + +<p>She took the envelope and hesitated. Durant was watching her. There was +unmistakable mastery in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he said briefly.</p> + +<p>And with a quick, startled movement, she obeyed. The letter fluttered +around them both in tiny fragments. Hugh Durant looked on with a hard, +impassive face, as he might have looked on at an execution.</p> + +<p>The girl's hands were shaking. She glanced at him once or twice +uncertainly.</p> + +<p>When the work of destruction was accomplished she made him a nervous +curtsey and turned to go.</p> + +<p>Durant's face softened a second time into a smile.</p> + +<p>"Thank you—Molly," he said, and he put his hand to his hat though she +was not looking at him.</p> + +<p>And afterwards he stood among the fragments of his letter and watched +till both the girl and the dog were out of sight.</p> + +<p>Twenty-four hours later Hugh Durant stood on the sandy shore and tapped +with his crutch on the large, flat stone that was set for a step on the +threshold of the little, wooden cottage behind the sand dunes.</p> + +<p>He had reached the place with much difficulty, persevering with a +doggedness characteristic of him; and there were great drops on his +forehead though the afternoon was cloudy and cool.</p> + +<p>A quick step sounded in answer to his summons, and in a moment his +hostess appeared at the open door.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you come straight in?" she said hospitably.</p> + +<p>She was dressed in lilac print. Her sleeves were turned up to the +elbows, and she wore a big apron with a bib. He noticed that her feet +were no longer bare.</p> + +<p>He took off his hat as he answered.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I might have been tempted to do so," he said, "if I had felt +equal to mounting the step without assistance."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" She pulled down her sleeves hastily. "Will you let me help you?" +she suggested shyly.</p> + +<p>Durant's eyes were slightly drawn with pain. Nevertheless they were very +friendly as he made reply.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you can?" he said.</p> + +<p>She took his hat from him with an anxious smile, and then the crutch +that he held towards her.</p> + +<p>"Tell me exactly what to do!" she said in her sweet, low voice. "I am +very strong."</p> + +<p>"If I may put my arm on your shoulder," Durant said, "I think it can be +managed. But say at once if it is too much for you!"</p> + +<p>Her face was deeply flushed as she bent from the step to give him the +help he needed.</p> + +<p>"Bear harder!" she said, as he leant his weight upon her. "Bear much +harder!"</p> + +<p>There was an odd little quiver in her voice, but, slight as she was, she +supported him with sturdy strength.</p> + +<p>The door opened straight into the tiny cottage parlour. A large wicker +chair, well cushioned, stood in readiness. As Durant lowered himself +into it, he saw that the girl's eyes were brimming with tears.</p> + +<p>"I've hurt you!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"No, no!" she said, and turned quickly away. "You didn't bear nearly +hard enough."</p> + +<p>He laughed a little, though his teeth were clenched.</p> + +<p>"You're a very strong woman, Molly," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am," she answered instantly. "Now shall you be all right while I +go to fetch tea?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said. "Pray don't make a stranger of me!"</p> + +<p>She disappeared into the room at the back of the cottage, and he was +left alone. The great dog came in with stately stride and lay down at +his feet.</p> + +<p>Durant sat and looked about him. There was little to attract the eye in +the simple furnishing of the tiny room. There was a small bookcase in +one corner, but it was covered by a red curtain. Two old-fashioned Dutch +figures stood on the mantelpiece on each side of a cheap little clock +that seemed to tick at him almost resentfully. The walls were tinted +green and bore no pictures or decoration of any sort. There was a plain +white tablecloth on the table, and in the middle stood a handleless jug +filled with pink and white wild roses, freshly gathered. There was no +carpet. The floor was strewn with beach sand.</p> + +<p>All these details Durant took in with keen interest. Nothing could have +exceeded the simplicity of this dwelling by the sea. There had obviously +been no attempt at artistic arrangement. Cleanliness and a neatness +almost severe were its only characteristics.</p> + +<p>"I hope you like toasted scones, sir," said Molly's voice in the +doorway.</p> + +<p>He looked round to see her come forward with the tea-tray.</p> + +<p>"Nothing better," he said lightly, "particularly if you have made them +yourself."</p> + +<p>She set down her tray and smiled at him. Her short, curling hair gave +her an almost elfish look.</p> + +<p>"I've been so busy getting ready," she said childishly. "I've never had +a gentleman to tea before."</p> + +<p>"That is a very great honour for me," said Durant.</p> + +<p>Molly looked delighted.</p> + +<p>"I think the honour is mine," she said in her shy voice. "I am just +going to fetch the wooden chair out of the kitchen."</p> + +<p>She departed hastily as if embarrassed, and Durant smiled to himself. It +was wonderful how the oppression had been lifted from his spirit since +his meeting with this lonely dweller on the shore.</p> + +<p>When Molly reappeared, he saw that she had assumed a dignity worthy of +the occasion. She sat down behind the brown teapot with a serious face. +He waited for her to lead the conversation, and the result was complete +silence for some seconds.</p> + +<p>Then she said suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Have you been sitting in the summer-house again?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Durant.</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," said Molly.</p> + +<p>"Why?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it rather a lonely place?" she said.</p> + +<p>He smiled faintly.</p> + +<p>"You know I came here to be lonely, Molly," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; you told me," said Molly, and he fancied that he heard her sigh.</p> + +<p>"Are you never lonely?" he asked in a kindly tone.</p> + +<p>"Often," she said. "Often."</p> + +<p>She was pouring the tea as she spoke. Her head was slightly bent.</p> + +<p>"And so you took pity on me?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>She shook her head suddenly and vigorously.</p> + +<p>"It wasn't that, sir," she said in a very low voice. "I—I +wanted—someone—to speak to."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Durant gently. He added after a moment: "Do you know, I am +glad I chanced to be that someone."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him over the teapot.</p> + +<p>"You weren't pleased—at first," she said. "You were angry. I heard you +saying—"</p> + +<p>"What?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>He looked across at her and laughed naturally, spontaneously, for the +first time.</p> + +<p>Molly had forgotten to be either embarrassed or dignified.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what it was," she said; "I only know what it sounded +like."</p> + +<p>"And that made you want to speak to me?" said Durant.</p> + +<p>The brown face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that +there was sadness in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"It didn't frighten me away," she said.</p> + +<p>"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now," +said Hugh Durant quietly.</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest. +Then, changing her mind, she remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said. "Please say it!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head without speaking.</p> + +<p>But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked.</p> + +<p>She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side, +looking down at him.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically.</p> + +<p>He laughed rather drearily.</p> + +<p>"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said.</p> + +<p>And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly +turned the conversation.</p> + +<p>Later, when he took his leave, he stood on her step and looked out to +the long, grey line of sea with a faint, dissatisfied frown on his face.</p> + +<p>"You're not afraid—living here?" he asked her at the last moment.</p> + +<p>"What is there to fear?" said Molly. "I have Cæsar, and there are other +cottages not far away."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," he said. "But at night—when it's dark—"</p> + +<p>A sudden glory shone in the girl's pure eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, sir," she said. "I am not afraid."</p> + +<p>And he departed, hobbling with difficulty up the long, sandy slope.</p> + +<p>At the top he paused and looked out over the grey, unquiet sea. The +dissatisfaction on his face had given place to perplexity and a faint, +dawning wonder that was like the birth of Hope.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>During the long summer days that followed, that strange friendship, +begun at the moment when Hugh Durant's life had touched its lowest point +of suffering and misery, ripened into a curiously close intimacy.</p> + +<p>The girl was his only visitor—the only friend who penetrated behind the +barrier of loneliness that he had erected for himself. He had sought the +place sick at heart and utterly weary of life, desiring only to be left +alone. And yet, oddly enough, he did not resent the intrusion of this +outsider, who had openly told him that she was sorry.</p> + +<p>She visited him occasionally at his hermitage, but more frequently she +would seek him out in his summer-house and take possession of him there +with a winning enchantment that he made no effort to resist. Sometimes +she brought him tea there; sometimes she persuaded him to return with +her to her cottage on the shore.</p> + +<p>The embarrassment had wholly passed from her manner. She was eager and +ingenuous as a child. And yet there was something in her—a depth of +feeling, a concentration half-revealed—that made him aware of her +womanhood. She was never confidential with him, but yet he felt her +confidence in every word she uttered.</p> + +<p>And the life that had ebbed so low turned in the man's veins and began +to flow with a steady, rising surge of which he was only vaguely +conscious.</p> + +<p>Molly had become his keenest interest. He had ceased to think with +actual pain of the woman who had loved his strength, but had shrunk in +horror from his weakness. His bitterness had seemed to disperse with the +fragments of her torn letter. It was only a memory to him now—scarcely +even that.</p> + +<p>"This place has done me a lot of good," he said to Molly one day. "I +have written to my friend Gregory Mountfort to come and see me. He is my +doctor."</p> + +<p>She looked up at him quickly. She was sitting on her doorstep and the +August sunlight was on her hair. There were wonderful glints of gold +among the dark curls.</p> + +<p>"Shall you go away, then?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I may—soon," he said.</p> + +<p>She was silent, bending over some work that she had taken up. The man +looked down at the bowed head. The old look of perplexity, of wonder, +was in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"What shall you do?" he said abruptly.</p> + +<p>She made a startled movement, but did not raise her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I shall just—go on," she said, in a voice that was hardly audible.</p> + +<p>"Not here," he said. "You will be lonely."</p> + +<p>There was an unusual note of mastery in his voice. She glanced up, and +met his eyes resolutely for a moment.</p> + +<p>"I am used to loneliness," she said slowly.</p> + +<p>"But you don't prefer it?" he said.</p> + +<p>She bent her head again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I prefer it," she said.</p> + +<p>There followed a pause. Then abruptly Durant asked a question.</p> + +<p>"Are you still sorry for me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"No," said Molly.</p> + +<p>He bent slightly towards her. Movement had become much easier to him of +late.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said very gently, "that is the kindest thing you have ever +said."</p> + +<p>She laughed in a queer, shaky note over her work.</p> + +<p>He bent nearer.</p> + +<p>"You have done a tremendous lot for me," he said, speaking very softly. +"I wonder if I dare ask of you—one thing more?"</p> + +<p>She did not answer. He put his hand on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said, "will you marry me?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Molly under her breath.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "Forgive me for asking!"</p> + +<p>She looked up at him then with that in her eyes which he could not +understand.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Durant," she said, steadily, "I thank you very much, and it +isn't—that. But I can only be your friend."</p> + +<p>"Never anything more, Molly?" he said, and he smiled at her, very +gently, very kindly, but without tenderness.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," Molly said in the same steady tone. "Never anything more."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Well," said Gregory Mountfort on the following day, "this place has +done wonders for you, Hugh. You're a different man."</p> + +<p>"I believe I am," said Hugh.</p> + +<p>He spoke with his eyes upon a bouquet of poppies and corn that had been +left at his door without any message early that morning. It was eloquent +to him of a friendship that did not mean to be lightly extinguished, but +his heart was heavy notwithstanding. He had begun to desire something +greater than friendship.</p> + +<p>"Physically," said Mountfort, "you are stronger than I ever expected to +see you again. You don't suffer much pain now, do you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not much," said Durant.</p> + +<p>He turned to stare out of his open window at the sunlit sea. His eyes +were full of weariness.</p> + +<p>"Look here," the doctor said. "You're not an invalid any longer. I +should leave this place if I were you. Go abroad! Go round the world! +Don't stagnate any longer! It isn't worthy of you."</p> + +<p>Hugh Durant shook his head.</p> + +<p>"It's no good trying to float a stranded hulk, dear fellow," he said. +"Don't attempt it! I am better off where I am."</p> + +<p>"You ought to get married," his friend returned brusquely. "You weren't +created for the lonely life."</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry," Durant said quietly.</p> + +<p>And Mountfort was disappointed. He wondered if he were still vexing his +soul over the irrevocable.</p> + +<p>He had motored down from town, and in the afternoon he carried his +patient off for a thirty-mile spin. They went through the depths of the +country, through tiny villages hidden among the hills, through long +stretches of pine woods, over heather-covered uplands. But though it did +him good, Durant was conscious of keenest pleasure when, returning, they +ran into view of the sea. He felt that the shore and the sand-dunes were +his own peculiar heritage.</p> + +<p>Mountfort steered for the village scattered over the top of the cliff. +Durant had persuaded him to remain for the night, and he had to send a +telegram. They puffed up a steep, winding hill to the post-office, and +the doctor got out.</p> + +<p>"Back in thirty seconds," he said, as he walked away.</p> + +<p>Hugh was in no hurry. It was a wonderfully calm evening. The sea looked +like a sheet of silver, motionless, silent, immense. The tide was very +low. The sand-dunes looked mere hummocks from that great height. Myriads +of martens were circling about the edge of the cliff, which was +protected by a crazy wooden railing. He sat and watched them without +much interest. He was thinking chiefly of that one cottage on the shore +a hundred feet below, which he knew so well.</p> + +<p>He wondered if Molly had been to the summer-house to look for him; and +then, chancing to glance up, he caught sight of her coming towards him +from the roadside. At the same instant something jerked in the motor, +and it began to move. It was facing up the hill, and the angle was a +steep one. Very slowly at first the wheels revolved, and the car moved +straight backwards as if pushed by an unseen hand.</p> + +<p>Hugh realised the danger in a moment. The road curved sharply not a +dozen yards behind him, and at that curve was the sheer precipice of the +cliff. He was powerless to apply the brakes, and he could not even throw +himself out. The sudden consciousness of this ran through him piercing +as a sword-blade.</p> + +<p>In every pulse of his being he felt the intense, the paralysing horror +of violent death. For the first awful moment he could not even call for +help. The sensation of falling headlong backwards gripped his throat +and choked his utterance.</p> + +<p>He made a wild, ineffectual movement with his hands. And then he heard a +loud cry. A woman's figure flashed towards him. She seemed to swoop as +the martens swooped along the face of the cliff. The car was running +smoothly towards that awful edge. He felt that it was very +near—horribly near; but he could not turn to look.</p> + +<p>Even as the thought darted through his brain he saw Molly, wide-eyed, +frenzied, clinging to the side of the car. She was in the act of +springing on to it, and that knowledge loosened his tongue.</p> + +<p>He yelled to her hoarsely to keep away. He even tried to thrust her +hands off the woodwork. But she withstood him fiercely, with a strength +that agonised and overcame. In a second she was on the step, where she +swayed perilously, then fell forward on her hands and knees at his feet.</p> + +<p>The car continued to run back. There came a sudden jerk, a crash of +rending wood, a frightful pause. The railing had splintered. They were +on the brink. Hugh bent and tried to take her in his arms.</p> + +<p>He was strung to meet that awful plunge; he was face to face with death; +but—was it by some miracle?—the car was stayed. There, on the very +edge of destruction, with not an inch to spare, it stood suddenly +motionless, as if checked by some mysterious, unseen force.</p> + +<p>As complete understanding returned to him, Hugh saw that the woman at +his feet had thrown herself upon the foot brake and was holding it +pressed down with both her rigid hands.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Yes; but who taught her where to look for the brake?" said Mountfort +two hours later.</p> + +<p>The excitement was over, but the subject fascinated Mountfort. The girl +had sprung away and disappeared down one of the cliff paths directly +Hugh had been extricated from danger. Mountfort was curious about her, +but Hugh was uncommunicative. He had no answer ready to Mountfort's +question. He scarcely seemed to hear it.</p> + +<p>Barely a minute after its utterance he reached for his crutches and got +upon his feet.</p> + +<p>"I am going down to the shore," he said. "I shan't sleep otherwise. +You'll excuse me, old fellow?"</p> + +<p>Mountfort looked at him and nodded. He was very intimate with Hugh.</p> + +<p>"Don't mind me!" he said.</p> + +<p>And Hugh went out alone in the summer dusk.</p> + +<p>The night was almost ghostly in its stillness. He went down the winding +path that he knew so well without a halt. Far away the light of a +steamer travelled over the quiet water. The sea murmured drowsily as the +tide rose. It was not quite dark.</p> + +<p>Outside her cottage-door he stopped and tapped upon the stone. The door +stood open, and as he waited he heard a clear, low whistle behind him on +the dunes. She was coming towards him, the great dog Cæsar bounding by +her side. As she drew near he noticed again how slight she was, and +marvelled at her strength.</p> + +<p>She reached him in silence. The light was very dim. He put out his hand +to her, but somehow he could not utter a word.</p> + +<p>"I knew it must be you," she said. "I—I was waiting for you."</p> + +<p>She put her hand into his; but still the man stood mute. No words would +come to him.</p> + +<p>She looked at him uncertainly, almost nervously. Then—</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she asked, under her breath.</p> + +<p>He spoke at last but not to utter the words she expected.</p> + +<p>"I haven't come to say, 'Thank you,' Molly," he said. "I have come to +ask why."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Molly.</p> + +<p>She was startled, confused, almost scared, by the mastery that underlay +the gentleness of his tone. He kept her hand in his, standing there, +facing her in the dimness; and, cripple as he was, she knew him for a +strong man.</p> + +<p>"I have come to ask," he said—"and I mean to know—why yesterday you +refused to marry me."</p> + +<p>She made a quick movement. His words astounded her. She felt inclined to +run away. But he kept her prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid of me, Molly!" he said half sadly. "You had a reason. +What was it."</p> + +<p>She bit her lip. Her eyes were full of sudden tears.</p> + +<p>"Tell me!" he said.</p> + +<p>And she answered, as if he compelled her:</p> + +<p>"It was because—because you don't love me," she said with difficulty.</p> + +<p>She felt his hand tighten upon hers.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" he said. "And that was—the only reason?"</p> + +<p>Molly was trembling.</p> + +<p>"It was the only reason that mattered," she said in a choked voice.</p> + +<p>He leant towards her in the dusk.</p> + +<p>"Molly," he said. "Molly, I worship you!"</p> + +<p>She heard the deep quiver in his voice, and it thrilled her from head to +foot. She began to sob, and he drew her towards him.</p> + +<p>"Wait!" she said, "Oh, wait! Come inside, and I'll tell you!"</p> + +<p>He went in with her, leaning on her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Sit down!" whispered Molly. "I'm going to tell you something."</p> + +<p>"Don't cry!" he said gently. "It may be something I know already."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it isn't!" she said with conviction.</p> + +<p>She stood before him in the twilight, her hands clasped tightly +together.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember a girl called Mary Fielding?" she said, with a piteous +effort to control her voice. "She used to be the friend of—of—your +<i>fiancée</i>, Lady Maud Belville, long ago, before you had your accident."</p> + +<p>He nodded gravely.</p> + +<p>"I remember her," he said.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose you ever noticed her much," the girl continued shakily. +"She was uninteresting, and always in the background."</p> + +<p>"I should know her anywhere," said Durant with confidence.</p> + +<p>"No, no," she protested. "I'm sure you wouldn't. You—you never gave her +a second thought, though she—was foolish enough—idiotic enough—to—to +care whether you did or not."</p> + +<p>"Was she?" he said softly. "Was she? And was that why she came to live +among the sand-dunes and cut off her hair and wore print +dresses—and—and made life taste sweet to me again?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! You know now!" she said, with a sound that was like laughter +through tears.</p> + +<p>He held out his arms to her.</p> + +<p>"My darling," he said. "I knew on the first day I saw you here."</p> + +<p>She knelt down beside him with a quick, impulsive movement.</p> + +<p>"You—knew!" she gasped incredulously.</p> + +<p>He smiled at her with great tenderness.</p> + +<p>"I knew," he said, "and I wondered—how I wondered—what you had come +for!"</p> + +<p>"I only came to be a friend," she broke in hastily, "to—to try to help +you through your bad time."</p> + +<p>"I guessed it must be that," he said softly over her bowed head, "when +you said 'No' to me yesterday."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't tell me you cared," protested Molly.</p> + +<p>"No," he said. "I was so horribly afraid that you might take me out of +pity, Molly."</p> + +<p>"And I—I wasn't going to be second fiddle!" said Molly waywardly.</p> + +<p>She resisted him a little as he turned her face upwards, but he had his +way. There was a quiver of laughter in his voice when he spoke again.</p> + +<p>"You could never be that," he said. "You were made to lead the +orchestra. Still, tell me why you did it, darling! Make me understand!"</p> + +<p>And Molly yielded at length with her arms about his neck.</p> + +<p>"I loved you!" she said passionately. "I loved you!"</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Woman_of_His_Dream'></a><h2>THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='5%' summary="TOC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right:auto;"><tr> +<td><a href='#Dream_P'>Prologue</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_I'>I</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_II'>II</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_III'>III</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_IV'>IV</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_V'>V</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_VI'>VI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_VII'>VII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_VIII'>VIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_IX'>IX</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_X'>X</a></td> +<td><a href='#Dream_XI'>XI</a></td> +</tr></table> + +<a name='Dream_P'></a><h3>PROLOGUE</h3> + +<p>It was growing very dark. The decks gleamed wet in the light of the +swinging lamps. The wind howled across the sea like a monster in +torment. It would be a fearful night.</p> + +<p>The man who stood clutching at the slanting deck rail was drenched from +head to foot, but, despite this fact, he had no thought of going below. +Reginald Carey had been for many voyages on many seas, but the +fascination of a storm in the bay attracted him irresistibly still. He +had no sympathy with the uneasy crowd in the saloons. He even exulted in +the wild tumult of wind and sea and blinding rain. He was as one +spellbound in the grip of the tempest.</p> + +<p>Curt and dry of speech, abrupt at times almost to rudeness, he was a man +of whom most people stood in awe, and with whom very few were on terms +of intimacy. Yet in the world of men he had made his mark.</p> + +<p>By camp-fires and on the march, in prison and in hospital, Carey the +journalist had become a byword for coolness and endurance. It was +Carey, caustic of humour, uncompromising of attitude, who sauntered +through a hail of bullets to fill a wounded man's water-tin; Carey who +pushed his way among stampeding mules to rescue sorely needed medical +stores; Carey who had limped beside footsore, jaded men, and whistled +them out of their depression.</p> + +<p>There were two fingers missing from Carey's left hand, and the limp had +become permanent when he sailed home from South Africa at the end of the +war, but he was the personal friend of half the army though there was +not a single man who could boast that he knew him thoroughly well. For +none knew exactly what this man, who scoffed so freely at disaster, +carried in his heart.</p> + +<p>As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel, gazing steadfastly into +the howling darkness, his face was as serene as if he sailed a summer +sea. The great waves that dashed their foam over him as he stood were +powerless to raise fear in his soul! He stood as one apart—a lonely +watcher whom no danger could appal.</p> + +<p>It was growing late, but he took no count of time. More than once he had +been hoarsely advised to go below, but he would not go. He believed +himself to be the only passenger on deck, and he clung to his solitude. +The bare thought of the stuffy saloon was abhorrent to him. He marvelled +that no one else had developed the same distaste.</p> + +<p>And with the thought he turned, breathless from the buffeting spray of a +mighty wave, to find a woman standing near him on the swirling deck.</p> + +<p>She stood poised lightly as a bird prepared for flight, her head bare, +her face upturned to the storm. Her hands were fast gripped upon the +rail, and the gleam of a gold ring caught Carey's eye. He saw that she +was unconscious of his presence. The shifting, uncertain light had not +revealed him. For a space he stood watching her, unperceived, wondering +at the courage that upheld her. Her hair had blown loose in the wind, +and lay in a black mass upon her neck. He could not see her features, +but her bearing was superb.</p> + +<p>And then at length, as if his quiet scrutiny had somehow touched in her +a responsive chord, she turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and +a curious thrill ran tingling through the man's veins. He had never seen +this woman before, but as she looked at him, with wonderful dark eyes +that seemed to hold a passionate exultation in their depths, he suddenly +felt as if he had known her all his life. They were comrades. It was no +hysterical panic that had driven her up from below. Like himself, she +had been drawn by the magic of the storm.</p> + +<p>Impulsively, almost involuntarily, he moved a pace towards her and +stretched out a hand along the dripping rail.</p> + +<p>She gave him her own instantly and confidently, responding to his +action with absolute simplicity. It was a gesture of sympathy, of +fellowship. She bore herself as a queen, but she did not condescend to +him.</p> + +<p>No words passed between them. Both realised the impossibility of speech +in that shrieking tempest. Moreover, there was no need for speech. +Earth's petty conventions had fallen away from them. They were as +children standing hand in hand on the edge of the unknown, hearing the +same thunderous music, bound by the same magic spell.</p> + +<p>Carey wondered later how long a time elapsed whilst they stood thus, +intently watching. It might have been for merely a few minutes, or it +might have been for the greater part of an hour. He never knew.</p> + +<p>The spell broke at length suddenly and terribly, with a grinding crash +that flung them both sideways upon the slippery deck. He went down, +still clinging instinctively to the rail, and the next instant, by its +aid, he was on his feet again, dragging his companion up with him.</p> + +<p>There followed a pause—a shuddering, expectant pause—while wind and +sea raged all around them like beasts of prey. And through it there came +the sound of the engine throbbing impotently spasmodically, like the +heart of a dying man. Quite suddenly it ceased, and there was a +frightful uproar of escaping steam. The deck on which they stood began +to tilt slowly upwards.</p> + +<p>Carey knew what had happened. They had struck a rock in that awful +darkness, and they were going down with frightful rapidity into the +seething, storm-tossed water.</p> + +<p>He had never been shipwrecked before, but, as by instinct, he realised +the madness of remaining where he was. A coil of rope lay almost at his +feet, and he stooped and seized it. There had come a brief lull in the +storm, but he knew that there was not a moment to spare. Still +supporting his companion, he began to bind the rope around them both.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him quickly, and he saw her lips move in protest. She +even set her hands against his breast, as if to resist him. But he +overcame her almost savagely. It was no moment for argument.</p> + +<p>The slope of the deck was becoming every instant more acute. The wind +was racing back across the sea. Above them—very far above them, it +seemed—there was a confusion of figures, but the tumult of wind and +waves drowned all other sound. Carey's feet began to slip on that awful +slant. They were sinking rapidly, rapidly.</p> + +<p>He knotted the rope and gathered himself together. An instant he hung on +the rail, breathing deeply. Then with a jerk he relaxed his grip and +leaped blindly into the howling darkness, hurling himself and the woman +with him far into the raging sea.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was suffocatingly hot. Carey raised his arms with a desperate +movement. He felt as if he were swimming in hot vapour. And he had been +swimming for a long time, too. He was deadly tired. A light flashed in +his eyes, and very far above him—like an object viewed through the +small end of a telescope—he saw a face. Vaguely he heard a voice +speaking, but what it said was beyond his comprehension. It seemed to +utter unintelligible things. For a while he laboured to understand, then +the effort became too much for him. The light faded from his brain.</p> + +<p>Later—much later, it seemed—he awoke to full consciousness, to find +himself in a Breton fisherman's cottage, watched over by a kindly little +French doctor who tended him as though he had been his brother.</p> + +<p>"<i>Monsieur</i> is better, but much better," he was cheerily assured. "And +for <i>madame</i> his wife he need have no inquietude. She is safe and well, +and only concerns herself for <i>monsieur</i>."</p> + +<p>This was reassuring, and Carey accepted it without comment or inquiry. +He knew that there was a misunderstanding somewhere, but he was still +too exhausted to trouble himself about so slight a matter. He thanked +his kindly informant, and again he slept.</p> + +<p>Two days later his interest in life revived. He began to ask questions, +and received from the doctor a full account of what had occurred.</p> + +<p>He had been washed ashore, he was told—he and <i>madame</i> his +wife—lashed fast together. The ship had been wrecked within half a mile +of the land. But the seas had been terrific. There had not been many +survivors.</p> + +<p>Carey digested the news in silence. He had had no friends on board, +having embarked only at Gibraltar.</p> + +<p>At length he looked up with a faint smile at his faithful attendant. +"And where is—<i>madame</i>?" he asked.</p> + +<p>The little doctor hesitated, and spread out his hands deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>monsieur</i>, I regret—I much regret—to have to inform you that she +is already departed for Paris. Her solicitude for you was great, was +pathetic. The first words she speak were: 'My husband, do not let him +know!' as though she feared that you would be distressed for her. And +then she recover quick, quick, and say that she must go—that <i>monsieur</i> +when he know, will understand. And so she depart early in the morning of +yesterday while <i>monsieur</i> is still asleep."</p> + +<p>He was watching Carey with obvious anxiety as he ended, but the +Englishman's face expressed nothing but a somewhat elaborate +indifference.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said, and relapsed into silence.</p> + +<p>He made no further reference to the matter, and the doctor discreetly +abstained from asking questions. He presently showed him an English +paper which contained the information that Mr. and Mrs. Carey were among +the rescued.</p> + +<p>"That," he remarked, "will alleviate the anxiety of your friends."</p> + +<p>To which Carey responded, with a curt laugh: "No one knew that we were +on board."</p> + +<p>He left for Paris on the following day, allowing the doctor to infer +that he was on his way to join his wife.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_I'></a><h3>I</h3> + +<p>It was growing dark in the empty class-room, but there was nothing left +to do, and the French mistress, sitting alone at her high desk, made no +move to turn on the light. All the lesson books were packed away out of +sight. There was not so much as a stray pencil trespassing upon that +desert of orderliness. Only the waste-paper basket, standing behind +<i>Mademoiselle</i> Trèves's chair, gave evidence of the tempest of energy +that had preceded this empty calm in the midst of which she sat alone. +It was crammed to overflowing with torn exercise books, and all manner +of schoolgirls' rubbish, and now and then it creaked eerily in the +desolate silence as though at the touch of an invisible hand.</p> + +<p>It was very cold in the great room, for the fire had gone out long ago. +There was no one left to enjoy it except <i>mademoiselle</i>, who apparently +did not count. For most of the pupils had departed in the morning, and +those who were left were collected in the great hall speeding one after +another upon their homeward way. All day the wheels of cabs had crunched +the gravel below the class-room window, but they were not so audible +now, for the ground was thickly covered with snow, which had been +drearily falling throughout the afternoon.</p> + +<p>It lay piled upon the window-sill, casting a ghostly light into the +darkening room, vaguely outlining the slender figure that sat so still +before the high desk.</p> + +<p>Another cab-load of laughing girls was just passing out at the gate. +There could not be many left. The darkness increased, and <i>mademoiselle</i> +drew a quick breath and shivered. She wished the departures were all +over.</p> + +<p>There came a light step in the passage, and a daring whistle, which +broke off short as a hand impetuously opened the class-room door.</p> + +<p>"Why, <i>mademoiselle!</i>" cried a fresh young voice. "Why, <i>chérie!</i>" Warm +arms encircled the lonely figure, and eager lips pressed the cold face. +"Oh, <i>chérie</i>, don't grizzle!" besought the newcomer. "Why, I've never +known you do such a thing before. Have you been here all this time? I've +been looking for you all over the place. I couldn't leave without one +more good-bye. And see here, <i>chérie</i>, you must—you must—come to my +birthday-party on New Year's Eve. If you won't come and stay with me, +which I do think you might, you must come down for that one night. It's +no distance, you know. And it's only a children's show. There won't be +any grown-ups except my cousin Reggie, who is the sweetest man in the +world, and Mummy's Admiral who comes next. Say you will, <i>chérie</i>, for I +shall be sixteen—just think of it!—and I do want you to be there. You +will, won't you? Come, promise!"</p> + +<p>It was hard to refuse this petitioner, so warmly fascinating was she. +<i>Mademoiselle</i>, who, it was well known, never accepted any invitations, +hesitated for the first time—and was lost.</p> + +<p>"If I came just for that one evening then, Gwen, you would not press me +to stay longer?"</p> + +<p>"Bless you, no!" declared Gwen. "I'll drive you to the station myself in +Mummy's car to catch the first train next morning, if you'll come. And +I'll make Reggie come too. You'll just love Reggie, <i>chérie</i>. He's my +exact ideal of what a man ought to be—the best friend I have, next to +you. Well, it's a bargain then, isn't it? You'll come and help dance +with the kids—you promise? That's my own sweet <i>chérie</i>! And now you +mustn't grizzle here in the dark any longer. I believe my cab is at the +door. Come down and see me off, won't you?"</p> + +<p>Yet again she was irresistible. They went out together, hand in hand, +happy child and lonely woman, and the door of the deserted class-room +banged with a desolate echoing behind them.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_II'></a><h3>II</h3> + +<p>It was ten days later, on a foggy evening, in the end of the year, that +Reginald Carey alighted at a small wayside station, and grimly prepared +himself for a five-mile trudge through dark and muddy lanes to his +destination.</p> + +<p>The only conveyance in the station yard was a private motor car, and his +first glance at this convinced him that it was not there to await him. +He paused under the lamp outside to turn up his collar, and, as he did +so, a man of gigantic breadth and stature, wearing goggles, came out of +the station behind him and strode past. He glanced at Carey casually as +he went by, looked again, then suddenly stopped and peered at him.</p> + +<p>"Great Scotland!" he exclaimed abruptly. "I know you—or ought to. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein. +Thought there was something familiar about you the moment I saw you. You +remember me, eh?"</p> + +<p>He turned back his goggles impetuously, and showed Carey his face.</p> + +<p>Yes; Carey remembered him very well indeed, though he was not sure that +the acquaintance was one he desired to improve. He took the proffered +hand with a certain reserve.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I remember you. I don't think I ever heard your name, but that's a +detail. You came out of it all right, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; more or less. Nothing ever hurts me." The big man's laugh had +in it a touch of bitterness. "Where are you bound for? Come along with +me in the car; I'll take you where you want to go." He seized Carey by +the shoulder, impelling him with boisterous cordiality towards the +vehicle. "Jump in, my friend. My name is Coningsby—Major Coningsby, of +Crooklands Manor—mad Coningsby I'm called about here, because I happen +to ride straighter to hounds than most of 'em. A bit of a compliment, +eh? But they're a shocking set of muffs in these parts. You don't live +here?"</p> + +<p>"No; I am down on a visit to my cousin, Lady Emberdale. She lives at +Crooklands Mead. I've come down a day sooner than I was expected, and +the train was two hours late. I'm Reginald Carey." He stopped before the +step of the car. "It's very good of you, but I won't take you out of +your way on such a beastly night. I can quite well walk."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, man! It's no distance, and it isn't out of the way. I've only +just motored down to get an evening paper. You're just in time to dine +with me. I'm all alone, and confoundedly glad to see you. I know Lady +Emberdale well. Come, jump in!"</p> + +<p>Thus urged, Carey yielded, not over-willingly, and took his seat in the +car.</p> + +<p>Directly they started, he knew the reason for his companion's pseudonym, +for they whizzed out of the yard at a speed which must have disquieted +the stoutest nerves.</p> + +<p>It was the maddest ride he had ever experienced, and he wondered by what +instinct Major Coningsby kept a straight course through the darkness. +Their own lamps provided the only light there was, and when they +presently turned sharply at right angles he gathered himself together +instinctively in preparation for a smash.</p> + +<p>But nothing happened. They tore on a little farther in darkness, +travelling along a private road; and then the lights of a house pierced +the gloom.</p> + +<p>Coningsby brought his car to a standstill.</p> + +<p>"Tumble out! The front door is straight ahead. My man will let you in +and look after you. Excuse me a moment while I take the car round!"</p> + +<p>He was gone with the words, leaving Carey to ascend a flight of steps to +the hall door. It opened at once to admit him, and he found himself in a +great hall dimly illumined by firelight. A servant helped him to divest +himself of his overcoat, and silently led the way.</p> + +<p>The room he entered was furnished as a library. He glanced round it as +he stood on the hearth-rug, awaiting his host, and was chiefly struck by +the general atmosphere of dreariness that pervaded it. Its sombre oak +furniture seemed to absorb instead of reflecting the light. There was a +large oil-painting above the fireplace, and after a few seconds he +turned his head and saw it. It was the portrait of a woman.</p> + +<p>Young, beautiful, queenly, the painted face looked down into his own, +and the man's heart gave a sudden, curious throb that was half rapture +and half pain. In a moment the room he had just entered, with all the +circumstances that had taken him there, was blotted from his brain. He +was standing once more on the rocking deck of a steamer, in a tempest of +wind and rain and furious sea, facing the storm, exultant, with a +woman's hand fast gripped in his.</p> + +<p>"Are you looking at that picture?" said a voice. "It's my wife—dead +now—lost—five years ago—at sea!"</p> + +<p>Carey wheeled sharply at the jerky utterance. Coningsby was standing by +his side. He was staring upwards at the portrait, a strange gleam +darting in his eyes—a gleam not wholly sane.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't do her justice," he went on in the same abrupt, headlong +fashion. "But it's better than nothing. She was the only woman who ever +satisfied me. Her loss damaged me badly. I've never been the same since. +There've been others, of course, but she was always first—an easy +first. I shall want her—I shall go on wanting her—till I'm in my +grave." His voice was suddenly husky, as the voice of a man in pain. +"It's like a fiery thirst," he said. "I try to quench it—Heaven knows I +try! But it comes back—it comes back."</p> + +<p>He swung round on his heel and went to the table. There followed the +clink of glasses, but Carey did not turn. His eyes had left the picture, +and were fixed, stern and unwinking, upon the fire that glowed at his +feet.</p> + +<p>Again he seemed to feel the clasp of a woman's hand, free and confiding, +within his own. Again his heart stirred responsively in the quick warmth +of a woman's perfect sympathy.</p> + +<p>And he knew that into his keeping had been given the secret of that +woman's existence. The five years' mystery was solved at last. He +understood, and, understanding, he kept silent faith with her.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_III'></a><h3>III</h3> + +<p>It was two hours later that Carey presented himself at his cousin's +house. He entered unobtrusively, as his manner was, knowing himself to +be a welcome guest.</p> + +<p>The first person to greet him was Gwen, who, accompanied by a college +youth of twenty, was roasting chestnuts in front of the hall fire. She +sprang up at the sound of his voice, and, flushed and eager, rushed to +meet him.</p> + +<p>"Why, Reggie, my dear old boy, who would have thought of seeing you +to-night? Come right in! Aren't you very cold? How did you get here? +Have you dined? This is Charlie Rivers, the Admiral's son. Charlie, you +have heard me speak of my cousin, Mr. Carey."</p> + +<p>Charlie had, several times over, and said so, with a grin, as he made +room for Carey in front of the blaze, taking care to keep himself next +to Gwen.</p> + +<p>Carey considerately fell in with the manoeuvre and, greetings over, they +huddled sociably together over the fire, and fell to discussing the +birthday party which was to be held on the morrow.</p> + +<p>Gwen was a curious blend of excitement and common sense. She had been +busily preparing all day for the coming festivity.</p> + +<p>"There's one visitor I want you both to be very good to," she said, "and +see that she takes plenty of refreshments, whether she wants them or +not."</p> + +<p>Young Rivers grimaced at Carey.</p> + +<p>"You can have my share of this unattractive female," he said generously. +"It's Gwen's schoolmistress, and I'll bet she's as heavy as a sack of +coals."</p> + +<p>"I can't dance. I'm lame," said Carey. "But I don't mind sitting out in +the refreshment room to please Gwen. How old is she, Gwen? About twice +my age?"</p> + +<p>Gwen did not stop to calculate.</p> + +<p>"Older than that, I should think. Her hair is quite grey, and she's very +sad and quiet. I am sure she has had a lot of trouble. Very likely she +won't want to dance either, so there will be a pair of you. Her name is +<i>Mademoiselle</i> Trèves, but she is only half French, and speaks English +better than I do. She never goes anywhere, so I do want her to have a +good time. You will be kind to her, won't you? I'll introduce you to her +as early as possible. We are all going to wear masks till midnight."</p> + +<p>"Stupid things—masks," said Charlie very decidedly. "Don't like 'em."</p> + +<p>Gwen turned upon him.</p> + +<p>"It's much the fairest way. If we didn't wear them, the pretty girls +would get all the best dances."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you wouldn't be left out, anyway," he assured her.</p> + +<p>At which compliment Gwen sniffed contemptuously, and pointedly requested +Carey to give her a few minutes in strict privacy before they parted for +the night.</p> + +<p>He saw that she meant it; and when Charlie had reluctantly taken himself +off he went with his young cousin to her own little sitting-room +upstairs before seeking Lady Emberdale in the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>Gwen could scarcely wait till the door was closed before she began to +lay her troubles before him.</p> + +<p>"It's Mummy!" she told him very seriously. "You can't think how sick and +disgusted I am. Sit down, Reggie, and I'll tell you all about it! Being +Mummy's trustee, perhaps you will have some influence over her. I have +none. She thinks I'm prejudiced. And I'm not, Reggie. There's nothing to +make me so except that Charlie is a nice boy, and the Admiral a perfect +darling."</p> + +<p>She paused for breath, and Carey patiently waited for further +enlightenment. It came.</p> + +<p>"Of course," she said, seating herself on the arm of his chair, "I've +always known that Mummy would marry again some day or other. She's so +young and pretty; and I haven't minded the idea a bit. Poor, dear Dad +was always such a very, very old man! But I do want her to marry +someone nice now the time has come. All through the summer holidays I +felt sure it was going to be the Admiral, and I was so pleased about it. +Charlie and I used to make bets about its coming off before Christmas. +He was ever so pleased, too, and we'd settled to join together for the +wedding present so as to get something decent. It was all going to be so +jolly. And now," with a great sigh, "everything's spoilt. +There's—there's someone else."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" said Carey. "Who?"</p> + +<p>He had been suppressing a laugh during the greater part of Gwen's +confidence, but this last announcement startled him into sobriety. A +very faint misgiving stirred in his soul. What if—but no; it was +preposterous. He thrust it from him.</p> + +<p>Gwen slid a loving arm about his neck.</p> + +<p>"I like telling you things, Reggie. You always understand, and they +never worry me so much afterwards. For I am—horribly worried. Mummy met +him in the hunting field. He has come to live quite near us—oh, such a +brute he is, loud and coarse and bullying! He rode a horse to death only +a few weeks ago. They say he's mad, and I'm nearly sure he drinks as +well. And he and Mummy have chummed up. They are as thick as thieves, +and he's always coming to the house, dropping in at odd hours. The poor, +dear Admiral hasn't a chance. He's much too gentlemanly to elbow his way +in like—like this horrid Major Coningsby. Oh, Reggie, do you think you +can do anything to stop it? I don't want her to marry him, neither does +Charlie. My, Reggie, what's the matter? You don't know him, do you? You +don't know anything bad about him?"</p> + +<p>Carey was on his feet, pacing slowly to and fro. One hand—the maimed +left hand—was thrust away out of sight, as his habit was in a woman's +presence. The other was clenched hard at his side.</p> + +<p>He did not at once answer Gwen's agitated questioning. She sat and +watched him in some anxiety, wondering at the stern perplexity with +which he reviewed the problem.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stopped in front of her.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know the man," he said. "I knew him years ago in South Africa, +and I met him again to-night. I must think this matter over, and +consider it carefully. You are quite sure of what you say—quite sure he +is attracted by your mother?"</p> + +<p>Gwen nodded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there's no doubt of that. He treats her already as if she were his +property. You won't tell her I told you, Reggie? It will simply +precipitate matters if you do."</p> + +<p>"No; I shan't tell her. I never argue with women." Carey spoke almost +savagely. He was staring at something that Gwen could not see.</p> + +<p>"Do you think you will be able to stop it?" she asked him, with a +slightly nervous hesitation.</p> + +<p>His eyes came back to her. He seemed to consider her for a moment. Then, +seeing that she was really troubled, he spoke with sudden kindliness:</p> + +<p>"I think so, yes. But never mind how! Leave it to me and put it out of +your head as much as possible! I quite agree with you that it is an +arrangement that wouldn't do at all. Why on earth couldn't your friend +the Admiral speak before?"</p> + +<p>"I wish he had," said Gwen, from her heart. "And I believe he does, too, +now. But men are so idiotic, Reggie. They always miss their +opportunities."</p> + +<p>"Think so?" said Carey. "Some men never have any, it seems to me."</p> + +<p>And he left her wondering at the bitterness of his speech.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_IV'></a><h3>IV</h3> + +<p>The winter sunlight was streaming into Major Coningsby's gloomy library +when Carey again stood within it. The Major was out riding, he had been +told, but he was expected back ere long; and he had decided to wait for +him.</p> + +<p>And so he stood waiting before the portrait; and closely, critically, he +studied it by the morning light.</p> + +<p>It was the face which for five years now he had carried graven on his +heart. She was the one woman to him—the woman of his dream. Throughout +his wanderings he had cherished the memory of her—a secret and +priceless possession to which he clung day and night, waking and +sleeping. He had made no effort to find her during those years, but +silently, almost in spite of himself, he had kept her in his heart, had +called her to him in his dreams, yearning to her across the +ever-widening gulf, hungering dumbly for the voice he had never heard.</p> + +<p>He knew that he was no favourite with women. All his life his reserve +had been a barrier that none had ever sought to pass till this +woman—the woman who should have been his fate—had been drifted to him +through life's stress and tumult and had laid her hand with perfect +confidence in his. And now it was laid upon him to betray that +confidence. He no longer had the right to keep her secret. He had +protected her once, and it had been as a hidden, sacred bond invisibly +linking them together. But it could do so no longer. The time had come +to wrest that precious link apart.</p> + +<p>Sharply he turned from the picture. The dark eyes tortured him. They +seemed to be pleading with him, entreating him. There came a sudden +clatter without, the tramp of heavy feet, the jingle of spurs. The door +was flung noisily back, and Major Coningsby strode in.</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Very good of you to look me up so soon. Sorry I wasn't in to +receive you. Haven't you had a drink yet?"</p> + +<p>He tossed his riding-whip down upon the table, and busied himself with +the glasses.</p> + +<p>Carey drew near; his face was stern.</p> + +<p>"I have something to say to you," he said, "before we drink, if you have +no objection."</p> + +<p>His voice was quiet and very even, but Coningsby looked up with a quick +frown.</p> + +<p>"Confound you, Carey! What are you pulling a long face about this time +of the morning? Better have a drink; it'll make you feel more sociable."</p> + +<p>He spoke with sharp irritation. The hand that held the spirit-decanter +was not over-steady. Carey watched him—coldly critical.</p> + +<p>"That portrait over the mantelpiece," he said; "your wife, I think you +told me?"</p> + +<p>Coningsby swore a deep oath.</p> + +<p>"I may have told you so. I don't often mention the subject. She is +dead."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon; I am forced to mention it." Carey's tone was +deliberate, emotionless, hard. "That lady—the original of that +portrait—is still alive, to the best of my belief. At least, she was +not lost at sea on the occasion of the wreck of the <i>Denver Castle</i> five +years ago."</p> + +<p>"What?" said Coningsby. He turned suddenly white—white to the lips, and +set down the decanter he was still holding as if he had been struck +powerless. "What?" he said again, with starting eyes upon Carey's face.</p> + +<p>"I think you understood me," Carey returned coldly. "I have told you +because, upon consideration, it seemed to me you ought to know."</p> + +<p>The thing was done and past recall, but deep in his heart there lurked a +savage resentment against this man who had forced him to break his +silence. He felt no sympathy with him; he only knew disgust.</p> + +<p>Coningsby moved suddenly with a frantic oath, and gripped him by the +shoulder. The blood was coming back to his face in livid patches; his +eyes were terrible.</p> + +<p>"Go on!" he said thickly. "Out with it! Tell me all you know!"</p> + +<p>He towered over Carey. There was violence in his grip, but Carey did +not seem to notice. He faced the giant with absolute composure.</p> + +<p>"I can tell you no more," he said. "I knew she was saved, because I was +saved with her. But she left Brittany while I was still too ill to +move."</p> + +<p>"You must know more than that!" shouted Coningsby, losing all control of +himself, and shaking his informant furiously by the shoulder. "If she +was saved, how did she come to be reported missing?"</p> + +<p>For a single instant Carey hesitated; then, with steady eyes upon the +bloated face above him, he made quiet reply:</p> + +<p>"Her name was among the missing by her own contrivance. Doubtless she +had her reasons."</p> + +<p>Coningsby's face suddenly changed: his eyes shone red.</p> + +<p>"You helped her!" he snarled, and lifted a clenched fist.</p> + +<p>Carey's maimed hand came quietly into view, and closed upon the man's +wrist.</p> + +<p>"It is not my custom," he coldly said, "to refuse help to a woman."</p> + +<p>"Confound you!" stormed Coningsby. "Where is she now? Where? Where?"</p> + +<p>There fell a sudden pause. Carey's eyes were like steel; his grasp never +slackened.</p> + +<p>"If I knew," he said deliberately, at length, "I should not tell you! +You are not fit for the society of any good woman."</p> + +<p>The words fell keen as a whip-lash, and as pitiless. Coningsby glared +into his face like a goaded bull; his look was murderous. And then by +some chance his eyes fell upon the hand that gripped his wrist. He +looked at it closely, attentively, for a few seconds, and finally set +Carey free.</p> + +<p>"You may thank that," he said more quietly, "for getting you out of the +hottest corner you were ever in. I didn't notice it yesterday, though I +remember now that you were wounded. So you parted with half your hand to +drag me out of that hell, did you? It was a rank, bad investment on your +part."</p> + +<p>He flung away abruptly, and helped himself to some brandy. A +considerable pause ensued before he spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Egad!" he said then, with a harsh laugh, "it's a deuced ingenious lie, +this of yours. I suppose you and that imp of mischief, Gwen, hatched it +up between you? I saw she had got her thinking-cap on yesterday. I am +not considered good enough for her lady mother. But, mark you, I'm going +to have her for all that! It isn't good for man to live alone, and I +have taken a fancy to Evelyn Emberdale."</p> + +<p>"You don't believe me?" Carey asked.</p> + +<p>Somehow, though he had been prepared for bluster and even violence, he +had not expected incredulity.</p> + +<p>Coningsby filled and emptied his glass a second time before he answered.</p> + +<p>"No," he said then, with sudden savagery: "I don't believe you! You had +better get out of my house at once, or—I warn you—I may break every +bone in your blackguardly body yet!" He turned on Carey, leaping madness +in his eyes.</p> + +<p>But Carey stood like a rock. "You know the truth," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>Coningsby broke into another wild laugh, and pointed up at the picture +above his head.</p> + +<p>"I shall know it," he declared, "when the sea gives up its dead. Till +that day I am free to console myself in my own way, and no one shall +stop me."</p> + +<p>"You are not free," Carey said. Very steadily he faced the man, very +distinctly he spoke. "And, however you console yourself, it will not be +with my cousin Lady Emberdale."</p> + +<p>Coningsby turned back to the table to fill his glass again. He spilt the +spirit over the cloth as he did it.</p> + +<p>"Man alive," he gibed, "do you think she will believe you if I don't?"</p> + +<p>It was the weak point of his position, and Carey realised it. It was +more than probable that Lady Emberdale would take Coningsby's view of +the matter. If the man really attracted her it was almost a foregone +conclusion. He knew Gwen's mother well—her inconsequent whims, her +obstinacy.</p> + +<p>Yet, even in face of this check, he stood his ground.</p> + +<p>"I may find some means of proving what I have told you," he said, with +unswerving resolution.</p> + +<p>Coningsby drained his glass for the third time, and, with a menacing +sweep of the hand, seized his riding-whip.</p> + +<p>"I don't advise you to come here with your proofs," he snarled. "The +only proof I would look at is the woman herself. Now, sir, I have warned +you fairly. Are you going?"</p> + +<p>His attitude was openly threatening, but Carey's eyes were piercingly +upon him, and, in spite of himself, he paused. So for the passage of +seconds they stood; then slowly Carey turned away.</p> + +<p>"I am going," he said, "to find your wife."</p> + +<p>He did not glance again at the picture as he passed from the room. He +could not bring himself to meet the dark eyes that followed him.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_V'></a><h3>V</h3> + +<p>Yes; he would find her. But how? There was only one course open to him, +and he shrank from that with disgust unutterable. It was useless to +think of advertising. He was convinced that she would never answer an +advertisement.</p> + +<p>The only way to find her was to employ a detective to track her down. He +clenched his hands in impotent revolt. Not only had it been laid upon +him to betray her confidence, but he must follow this up by dragging her +from her hiding-place, and returning her to the bitter bondage from +which he had once helped her to escape.</p> + +<p>That she still lived he was inwardly convinced. He would have given all +he had to have known her dead.</p> + +<p>But, for that day, at least, there was no more to be done, and Gwen must +not have her birthday spoilt by the knowledge of his failure. He decided +to keep out of her way till the evening.</p> + +<p>When he entered the ball-room at the appointed time she pounced upon him +eagerly, but her young guests were nearly all assembled, and it was no +moment for private conversation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reggie! There you are! How dreadful you look in a mask! This is my +cousin, <i>mademoiselle</i>," turning to a lady in black who accompanied her. +"I've been wanting to introduce him to you. Don't forget that the masks +are not to come off till midnight. We're going to boom the big gong when +the clock strikes twelve."</p> + +<p>She flitted away in her shimmering fairy's dress, closely attended by +Charlie Rivers, to persuade his father to give her a dance. The room was +crowded with masked guests, Lady Emberdale, handsome and brilliant, and +Admiral Rivers, her bluff but faithful admirer, being the only +exceptions to the rule of the evening.</p> + +<p>Carey found himself standing apart with Gwen's particular <i>protégée</i>, +and he realised at once that he could expect no help from Charlie in +this quarter. For, though slim and graceful, <i>Mademoiselle</i> Trèves's +general appearance was undeniably sombre and elderly. The hair that she +wore coiled regally upon her head was silver-grey, and there was a +certain weariness about the mouth that, though it did not rob it of its +sweetness, deprived it of all suggestion of youth.</p> + +<p>"I don't know if I am justified in asking for a dance," Carey said. "My +own dancing days are over."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him, and instantly the weariness vanished. There was magic +in her smile.</p> + +<p>"I am no dancer either, except with the little ones. If you care to sit +out with me, I shall be very pleased."</p> + +<p>Her voice was low and musical. It caught his fancy so that he was aware +of a sudden curiosity to see the face that the black mask concealed.</p> + +<p>"Give me the twelve-o'clock dance," he said, "if you can spare it!"</p> + +<p>She consulted the programme that hung from her wrist. He bent over it as +she held it, and scrawled his initials against the dance in question.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps I shall not stay for that one," she said, with slight +hesitation.</p> + +<p>He glanced up at her.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were here for the night."</p> + +<p>She bent her head.</p> + +<p>"But I may slip away before twelve for all that."</p> + +<p>Carey smiled.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will, not anyhow if I have a voice in the matter. I +am Gwen's lieutenant, you know, specially enrolled to prevent any +deserting. There is a heavy penalty for desertion."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>Carey bent again over the programme.</p> + +<p>"Deserters will be brought back ignominiously and made to dance with +everyone in the room in turn."</p> + +<p>He glanced up again at the sound of her low laugh. There was something +elusively suggestive about her personality.</p> + +<p>"May I have another?" he said. "I hope you don't mind holding the card +for me."</p> + +<p>"You have hurt your hand?" she asked.</p> + +<p>It was thrust away, as usual, in his pocket.</p> + +<p>"Some years ago," he told her. "I don't use it more than I can help."</p> + +<p>"How disagreeable for you!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I am used to it. It is worse for others than it is for me. May I have +No. 9? It includes the supper interval. Thanks! And any more you can +spare. I'm only lounging about and seeing that the kids enjoy +themselves. I shall be delighted to sit out with you when you are tired +of dancing."</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," she said.</p> + +<p>He made her an abrupt bow.</p> + +<p>"Then I hope you won't snub my efforts by deserting?"</p> + +<p>She laughed again.</p> + +<p>"No, lieutenant, I will not desert. I am going to help you."</p> + +<p>She spoke with a winning and impulsive graciousness that stirred again +within him that curious sense of groping in the dark among objects +familiar but unrecognisable. Surely he had met this stranger somewhere +before—in a crowded thoroughfare, in a train, possibly in a theatre, or +even in a church!</p> + +<p>She looked at him questioningly as he lingered, and with another bow he +turned and left her. Doubtless, when he saw her face he would remember, +or realise that he had been mistaken.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_VI'></a><h3>VI</h3> + +<p>Mademoiselle Trèves kept her word, and wherever the fun was at its +height she was invariably the centre of it. The shy children crowded +about her. She seemed to possess a special charm for them.</p> + +<p>Gwen was delighted, and was obviously enjoying herself to the utmost. In +the absence of her <i>bête noire</i> whom she had courageously omitted to +invite, she rejoiced to see that her mother was being unusually gracious +to her beloved Admiral, who was as merry as a schoolboy in consequence.</p> + +<p>She was shrewdly aware, however, that the welcome change was but +temporary. Incomprehensible though it was to Gwen, she knew that Major +Coningsby's power over her gay and frivolous young mother was absolute. +He ruled her with a rod of iron, and Lady Emberdale actually enjoyed his +tyranny. The rough court he paid her served to turn her head completely, +and she never attempted to resist his influence.</p> + +<p>It was all very distasteful to Gwen, who hated the man with the whole +force of her nature. She was thankful to feel that Carey was enlisted on +her side. She looked upon him as a tower of strength, and, forebodings +notwithstanding, she was able to throw herself heart and soul into the +evening's festivities, and to beam delightedly upon her cousin as she +walked behind him with Charlie to the supper room.</p> + +<p>Carey was escorting the French governess. He found a comfortable corner +for her in the thronged room at a table laid for two.</p> + +<p>"I am bearing in mind your promise to stand by till twelve o'clock," he +said. "It's the only thing that keeps me going, for I have a powerful +longing to remove my mask in defiance of orders. It feels like a porous +plaster. I shall only hold out till midnight with your gallant +assistance."</p> + +<p>He stooped with the words to pick up her fan which she had dropped. He +was obliged to use his left hand, and he knew that she gave a quick +start at sight of it. But she spoke instantly and he admired her ready +self-control.</p> + +<p>"It was rather a rash promise, I am afraid."</p> + +<p>Her voice sounded half shy and wholly sweet, and again he was caught by +that elusive quality about her that had puzzled him before. It was +stronger than ever, so strong that he felt for a moment on the verge of +discovery. But yet again it baffled him, making him all the more +determined to pursue it to its source.</p> + +<p>"You're not going to cry off?" he said, with a smile.</p> + +<p>He saw her flush behind her mask.</p> + +<p>"Only with your permission," she answered.</p> + +<p>He heard the note of pleading in her voice, but he would not notice it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't let you off!" he said lightly. "Gwen would never forgive +me. Besides, I don't want to."</p> + +<p>She said no more, probably realising that he meant to have his way. They +talked upon indifferent topics in the midst of the general buzz of +merriment till, supper over, they separated.</p> + +<p>"I shall come for that midnight dance," were Carey's last words, as he +bowed and left her.</p> + +<p>And during the hour that intervened he kept a sharp eye upon her, lest +her evident reluctance to remain should prove too much for her +integrity. He was half amused at his own tenacity in the matter. Not for +years had a chance acquaintance so excited his curiosity.</p> + +<p>A few minutes before midnight he was standing before her. The last dance +of the evening had just begun. Gwen had decreed that everyone should +stop upon the stroke of twelve, while every mask was removed, after +which the dance was to be continued to the finish.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go upstairs?" suggested Carey.</p> + +<p>To his surprise he felt that the hand she laid upon his arm was +trembling.</p> + +<p>"By all means," she answered. "Let us get away from the crowd!"</p> + +<p>It was an unexpected request, but he showed no surprise. He piloted her +to a secluded spot in the upper regions, and they sat down on a lounge +at the end of a corridor.</p> + +<p>A queer sense of uneasiness had begun to oppress Carey, as strong as it +was inexplicable. He made a resolute effort to ignore it. The music +downstairs was sinking away. He took out his watch.</p> + +<p>"The dramatic moment approaches," he remarked, after a pause. "Are you +ready?"</p> + +<p>She did not speak.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you why I want to see you unmask," he said, speaking very +quietly. "It is because there is something about you that reminds me of +someone I know, but the resemblance is so subtle that it has eluded me +all the evening."</p> + +<p>"You do not know me," she said. And he felt that she spoke with an +effort.</p> + +<p>"I am not so sure," he answered. "But in any case—"</p> + +<p>He paused. The music had ceased altogether, and an expectant silence +prevailed. He looked at her intently as he waited, till aware that she +shrank from his scrutiny.</p> + +<p>A long deep note boomed through the house, echoing weirdly through the +intense silence. Carey put up his hand without speaking, and stripped +off his mask. He crumpled it into a ball as the second note struck, and +looked at her. She had not moved. He waited silently.</p> + +<p>At the sixth note she made a sudden, almost passionate gesture and rose. +Carey remained motionless, watching her. Swiftly she turned, and began +to walk away from him. He leaned forward. His eyes were fixed upon her.</p> + +<p>Three more strokes! She stopped abruptly, turning back as if he had +spoken. Moving slowly, and still masked, she came back to him. He met +her under a lamp. His face was very pale, but his eyes were steady and +piercingly keen. He took her hand, bending over it till his lips touched +her glove.</p> + +<p>"I know you now," he said, his voice very low.</p> + +<p>Three more strokes, and silence.</p> + +<p>A ripple of laughter suddenly ran through the house, a gay voice called +for three cheers, and as though a spell had been lifted the merriment +burst out afresh in tune to the lilting dance-music.</p> + +<p>Carey straightened himself slowly, still holding the slender hand in +his. Her mask had gone at last, and he stood face to face with the woman +of his dream—the woman whose hard-won security he had only that morning +pledged himself to shatter.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_VII'></a><h3>VII</h3> + +<p>"You know me," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I know you. And I know your secret, too."</p> + +<p>The words sounded stern. He was putting strong restraint upon himself.</p> + +<p>She faced him without flinching, her look as steady as his own. And yet +again it was to Carey as though he stood in the presence of a queen. She +did not say a word.</p> + +<p>"Will you believe me," he said slowly, "when I tell you that I would +give all I have not to know it?"</p> + +<p>She raised her beautiful brows for a moment, but still she said nothing.</p> + +<p>He let her hand go. "I was on the point of searching to the world's end +for you," he said. "But since I have found you here of all places, I am +bound to take advantage of it. Forgive me, if you can!"</p> + +<p>He saw a gleam of apprehension in her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What is it you want to say to me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>He passed the question by.</p> + +<p>"You know me, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>She bent her head.</p> + +<p>"I fancied it was you from the first. When I saw your hand at supper, I +knew."</p> + +<p>"And you tried to avoid me?"</p> + +<p>"When you have something to conceal, it is wise to avoid anyone +connected with it."</p> + +<p>She answered him very quietly, but he knew instinctively that she was +fighting him with her whole strength. It was almost more than he could +bear.</p> + +<p>"Believe me," he said, "I am not a man to wantonly betray a woman's +secret. I have kept yours faithfully for years. But when within the last +few days I came to know who you were, and that your husband, Major +Coningsby, was contemplating making a second marriage, I was in honour +bound to speak."</p> + +<p>"You told him?" She raised her eyes for a single instant, and he read in +them a reproach unutterable.</p> + +<p>His heart smote him. What had she endured, this woman, before taking +that final step to cut herself off from the man whose name she had +borne? But he would not yield an inch. He was goaded by pitiless +necessity.</p> + +<p>"I told him," he answered. "But I had no means of proving what I said. +And he refused to believe me."</p> + +<p>"And now?" she almost whispered.</p> + +<p>He heard the note of tragedy in the words, and he braced himself to meet +her most desperate resistance.</p> + +<p>"Before I go further," he said, "let me tell you this! Slight though you +may consider our acquaintance to be, I have always felt—I have always +known—that you are a good woman."</p> + +<p>She made a quick gesture of protest.</p> + +<p>"Would a good woman have left the man who saved her life lying ill in a +strange land while she escaped with her miserable freedom?"</p> + +<p>He answered her without hesitation, as he had long ago answered himself.</p> + +<p>"No doubt the need was great."</p> + +<p>She turned away from him and sat down, bowing her head upon her hand.</p> + +<p>"It was," she said, her voice very low. "I was nearly mad with trouble. +You had pity then—without knowing. Have you—no pity—now?"</p> + +<p>The appeal went out into silence. Carey neither spoke nor moved. His +face was like a stone mask—the face of a strong man in torture.</p> + +<p>After a pause of seconds she spoke again, her face hidden from him.</p> + +<p>"The first Mrs. Coningsby is dead," she said. "Let it be so! Nothing +will ever bring her back. Geoffrey Coningsby is free to marry—whom he +will."</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely more than a whisper, but they reached and +pierced him to the heart. He drew a step nearer to her, and spoke with +sudden vehemence.</p> + +<p>"I would help you, Heaven knows, if I could! But you will see—you must +see presently—that I have no choice. There is only one thing to be +done, and it has fallen to me to see it through, though it would be +easier for me to die!"</p> + +<p>He broke off. There was strangled passion in his voice. Abruptly he +turned his back upon her, and began to pace up and down. Again there +fell a long pause. The music and the tramp of dancing feet below rose up +in his ears like a shout of mockery. He was fighting the hardest battle +of his life, fighting single-handed and grievously wounded for a victory +that would cripple him for the rest of his days.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he stood still and looked at her, though she had not moved, +unless her head with its silvery hair were bowed a little lower than +before. For a single instant he hesitated, then strode impulsively to +her, and knelt down by her side.</p> + +<p>"God help us both!" he said hoarsely.</p> + +<p>His hands were on her shoulders. He drew her to him, taking the bowed +head upon his breast. And so, silently, he held her. When she looked up +at last, he knew that the bitter triumph was his. Her face was deathly, +but her eyes were steadfast. She drew herself very gently out of his +hold.</p> + +<p>"I do not think," she said, "that there is anyone else in the world who +could have done for me what you have done tonight." She paused a moment +looking straight into his eyes, then laid her hands in his without a +quiver. "Years ago," she said, "you saved my life. Tonight—you have +saved something infinitely more precious than that. And I—I am +grateful to you. I will do—whatever you think right."</p> + +<p>It was a free surrender, but it wrung his heart to accept it. Even in +that moment of tragedy there was to him something of that sublime +courage with which she had faced the tumult of a stormy sea with him +five years before. And very poignantly it came home to him that he was +there to destroy and not to deliver. Like a wave of evil, it rushed upon +him, overwhelming him.</p> + +<p>He could not trust himself to speak. The wild words that ran in his +brain were such as he could not utter. And so he only bent his head once +more over the hands that lay so trustingly in his, and with great +reverence he kissed them.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_VIII'></a><h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>It was on a cold, dark evening two days later that Major Coningsby +returned from the first run of the year, and tramped, mud-splashed and +stiff from hard riding, into his gloomy house. A gust of rain blew +swirling after him, and he turned, swearing, and shut the great door +with a bang. It had not been a good day for sport. The ground had been +sodden, and the scent had washed away. He had followed the hounds for +miles to no purpose and had galloped home at last in sheer disgust. To +add to his grievances he had called upon Lady Emberdale on his way back, +and had not found her in. "Gone to tea with her precious Admiral, I +suppose!" he had growled, as he rode away, which, as it chanced, was the +case. The suspicion had not improved his mood, and he was very much out +of humour when he finally reached his own domain. Striding into the +library, he turned on the threshold to curse his servant for not having +lighted the lamp, and the man hastened forward nervously to repair the +omission. This accomplished, he as hastily retired, glancing furtively +over his shoulder as he made his escape.</p> + +<p>Coningsby tramped to the hearth, and stood there, beating his leg +irritably with his riding-whip. There was a heavy frown on his face. He +did not once raise his eyes to the picture above him. He was still +thinking of Lady Emberdale and the Admiral. Finally, with a sudden idea +of refreshing himself, he wheeled towards the table. The next instant, +he stood and stared as if transfixed.</p> + +<p>A woman dressed in black, and thickly veiled, was standing facing him +under the lamp.</p> + +<p>He gazed at her speechlessly for a second or two, then passed his hand +across his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Great heavens!" he said slowly, at last.</p> + +<p>She made a quick movement of the hands that was like a gesture of +shrinking.</p> + +<p>"You don't know me?" she asked, in a voice so low as to be barely +audible.</p> + +<p>For a moment there flashed into his face the curious, listening look +that is seen on the faces of the blind. Then violently he strode +forward.</p> + +<p>"I should know that voice in ten thousand!" he cried, his words sharp +and quivering. "Take off your veil, woman! Show me your face!"</p> + +<p>The hunger in his eyes was terrible to see. He looked like a dying man +reaching out impotent hands for some priceless elixir of life.</p> + +<p>"Your face!" he gasped again hoarsely, brokenly. "Show me your face!"</p> + +<p>Mutely she obeyed him, removed hat and veil with fingers that never +faltered, and turned her sad, calm face towards him. For seconds longer +he stared at her, stared devouringly, fiercely, with the eyes of a +madman. Then, suddenly, with a great cry, he stumbled forward, flinging +himself upon his knees at the table, with his face hidden on his arms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know you! I know you!" he sobbed. "You've tortured me like this +before. You've made me think I had only to open my arms to you, and I +should have you close against my heart. It's happened night after night, +night after night! Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!"</p> + +<p>His voice choked, and he became intensely still crouching there before +her in an anguish too great for words.</p> + +<p>For a long time she was motionless too, but at last, as he did not move, +she came a step toward him, pity and repugnance struggling visibly for +the mastery over her. Reluctantly she stooped and touched his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey!" she said, "it is I, myself, this time."</p> + +<p>He started at her touch but did not lift his head.</p> + +<p>She waited, and presently he began to recover himself. At last he +blundered heavily to his feet.</p> + +<p>"It's true, is it?" he said, peering at her uncertainly. "You're +here—in the flesh? You've been having just a ghastly sort of game with +me all these years, have you? Hang it, I didn't deserve quite that! And +so the little newspaper chap spoke the truth, after all."</p> + +<p>He paused; then suddenly flung out his arms to her as he stood.</p> + +<p>"Naomi!" he cried, "come to me, my girl! Don't be afraid. I swear I'll +be good to you, and I'm a man that keeps his oath! Come to me, I say!"</p> + +<p>But she held back from him, her face still white and calm.</p> + +<p>"No, Geoffrey," she said very firmly, "I haven't come back to you for +that. When I left you, I left you for good. And you know why. I never +meant to see your face again. You had made my life with you impossible. +I have only come to-day as—as a matter of principle, because I heard +you were going to marry again."</p> + +<p>The man's arms fell slowly.</p> + +<p>"You were always rather great on principle," he said, in an odd tone.</p> + +<p>He was not angry—that she saw. But the sudden dying away of the +eagerness on his face made him look old and different. This was not the +man whose hurricanes of violence had once overwhelmed her, whose +unrestrained passions had finally driven her from him to take refuge in +a lie.</p> + +<p>"I should not have come," she said, speaking with less assurance, "if it +had not been to prevent a wrong being done to another woman."</p> + +<p>His expression did not change.</p> + +<p>"I see," he said quietly. "Who sent you? Carey?"</p> + +<p>She flushed uncontrollably at the question, though there was no offence +in the tone in which it was uttered.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she answered, after a moment.</p> + +<p>Coningsby turned slowly and looked into the fire.</p> + +<p>"And how did he persuade you?" he asked. "Did he tell you I was going +blind?"</p> + +<p>"No!" There was apprehension as well as surprise in her voice; and he +jerked his head up as though listening to it.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well!" he said. "It doesn't much matter. There is a remedy for all +this world's evils. No doubt I shall take it sooner or later. So you're +going again are you? I'm not to touch you; not to kiss your hand? You +won't have me as husband, slave, or dog! Egad!" He laughed out harshly. +"I used not to be so humble. If you were queen, I was king, and I made +you know it. There! Go! You have done what you came to do, and more +also. Go quickly, before I see your face again! I'm only mortal still, +and there are some things that mortals can't endure—even strong +men—even giants. So—good-bye!"</p> + +<p>He stopped abruptly. He was gripping the high mantelpiece with both +hands. Every bone of them stood out distinctly, and the veins shone +purple in the lamplight. His head was bowed forward upon his chest. He +was fighting fiercely with that demon of unfettered violence to which he +had yielded such complete allegiance all his life.</p> + +<p>Minutes passed. He dared not turn his head to look but he knew that she +had not gone. He waited dumbly, still forcing back the evil impulse +that tore at his heart. But the tension became at last intolerable, and +slowly, still gripping himself with all his waning strength, he stood up +and turned.</p> + +<p>She was standing close to him. The repugnance had all gone out of her +face. It held only the tenderness of a great compassion.</p> + +<p>As he stared at her dumbfounded, she held out her hands to him.</p> + +<p>"Geoffrey," she said, "if you wish it, I will come back to you."</p> + +<p>He stared at her, still wide-eyed and mute, as though a spell were upon +him.</p> + +<p>"Won't you have me, Geoffrey?" she said, a faint quiver in her voice.</p> + +<p>He seized her hands then, seized them, and drew her to him, bowing his +head down upon her shoulder with a great sob.</p> + +<p>"Naomi, Naomi," he whispered huskily, "I will be good to you, my +darling—so help me, God!"</p> + +<p>Her own eyes were full of tears. She yielded herself to him without a +word.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_IX'></a><h3>IX</h3> + +<p>"Can I come in a moment, Reggie?"</p> + +<p>Gwen's bright face peered round the door at him as he sat at the +writing-table in his room, with his head upon his hand. He looked up at +her.</p> + +<p>"Yes, come in, child! What is it?"</p> + +<p>She entered eagerly and went to him.</p> + +<p>"Are you busy, dear old boy? It is horrid that you should be going away +so soon. I only wanted just to tell you something that the dear old +Admiral has just told me."</p> + +<p>She sat down in her favourite position on the arm of his chair, her arm +about his neck. Her eyes were shining. Carey looked up at her.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said. "Has he plucked up courage at last to ask for what he +wants?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; he actually has." There was a purr of content in Gwen's voice. +"And it's quite all right, Reggie. Mummy has said 'yes,' as I knew she +would, directly I told her about Major Coningsby finding his wife again. +All she said to that was: 'Dear me! How annoying for poor Major +Coningsby!' I thought it was horrid of her to say that, but I didn't say +so, for I wanted it all to come quite casually. And after that I wrote +to Charlie, and he told the Admiral. And he came straight over only +this morning and asked her. He's been telling me all about it, and he's +so awfully happy! He says he was a big fool not to ask her long ago in +the summer. For what do you think she said, Reggie, when he told her +that he'd been wanting to marry her for ever so long, but couldn't be +quite sure how she felt about it? Why, she said, with that funny little +laugh of hers—you know her way—'My dear Admiral, I was only waiting +to be asked.' The dear old man nearly cried when he told me. And I +kissed him. And he and Charlie are coming over to dine this evening. So +we can all be happy together."</p> + +<p>Gwen paused to breathe, and to give her cousin an ardent hug.</p> + +<p>"You've been a perfect dear about it," she ended with enthusiasm. "It +would never have happened but for you, and—and Mademoiselle Trèves. Do +you think she hated going back to that man very badly?"</p> + +<p>"I think she did," said Carey.</p> + +<p>He was looking, not at Gwen, but straight at the window in front of him. +There were deep lines about his eyes, as if he had not slept of late.</p> + +<p>"But she needn't have stayed," urged Gwen.</p> + +<p>He did not answer. In his pocket there lay a slip of paper containing a +few brief lines in a woman's hand.</p> + +<p>"I have taken up my burden again, and, God helping me, I will carry it +now to the end. You know what it means to me, but I shall always thank +you in my heart, because in the hour of my utter weakness you were +strong.—NAOMI CONINGSBY."</p> + +<p>The splendid courage that underlay those few words had not hidden from +the man the cost of her sacrifice. She had gone voluntarily back into +the bondage that once had crushed her to the earth. And he—and he +only—knew what it meant to her.</p> + +<p>He was brought back to his surroundings by the pressure of Gwen's arm. +He turned and found her looking closely into his face.</p> + +<p>"Reggie," she said, with a touch of shyness, "are you—unhappy—about +something?" He did not answer her at once, and she slipped suddenly down +upon her knees by his side. "Forgive me, dear old boy! Do you know, I +couldn't help guessing a little? You're not vexed?"</p> + +<p>He laid a silencing hand upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I don't mind your knowing, dear," he said gently.</p> + +<p>And he stooped, and kissed her forehead. She clung to him closely for a +second. When she rose, her eyes were wet. But, obedient to his unspoken +desire, she did not say another word.</p> + +<p>When she was gone Carey roused himself from his preoccupation, and +concentrated his thoughts upon his correspondence. He was leaving +England in two days, and travelling to the East on a solitary shooting +expedition. He did not review the prospect with much relish, but +inaction had become intolerable to him, and he had an intense longing +to get away. He had arranged to return to town that afternoon.</p> + +<p>It was towards luncheon-time that he left his room, and, descending, +came upon Lady Emberdale in the hall. She turned to meet him, a slight +flush upon her face.</p> + +<p>"No doubt Gwen has told you our piece of news?" she said.</p> + +<p>He held out his hand.</p> + +<p>"It is official, is it? I am very glad. I wish you joy with all my +heart."</p> + +<p>She accepted his congratulations with a gracious smile.</p> + +<p>"I think everyone is pleased, including those absurd children. By the +way, here is a note just come for you, brought by a groom from +Crooklands Manor. I was going to bring it up to you, as he is waiting +for an answer."</p> + +<p>He took it up and opened it hastily, with a murmured excuse. When he +looked up, Lady Emberdale saw at once that there was something wrong. +She began to question him, but he held the note out to her with a quick +gesture, and she took it from him.</p> + +<div class='blkquot'><p>"My husband met with an accident while motoring this morning," + she read. "He has been brought home, terribly injured, and + keeps asking for you. Can you come?</p> + +<p> "N. CONINGSBY."</p></div> + +<p>Glancing up, she saw Carey, pale and stern, waiting to speak.</p> + +<p>"Send back word, 'Yes, at once,'" he said. "And perhaps you can spare me +the car?"</p> + +<p>He turned away without waiting for her reply, and went back to his room, +crushing the note unconsciously in his hand.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_X'></a><h3>X</h3> + +<p>"And the sea—gave up—the dead—that were in it." Haltingly the words +fell through the silence. There was a certain monotony about them, as if +they had been often repeated. The speaker turned his head from side to +side upon the pillow uneasily, as if conscious of restraint, then spoke +again in the tone of one newly awakened. "Why doesn't that fellow come?" +he demanded restlessly. "Did you tell him I couldn't wait?"</p> + +<p>"He is coming," a quiet voice answered at his side. "He will soon be +here."</p> + +<p>He moved his head again at the words, seeming to listen intently.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Naomi, my girl," he said, "you've turned up trumps at last. It +won't have been such a desperate sacrifice after all, eh, dear? It's +wonderful how things get squared. Is that the doctor there? I can't see +very well."</p> + +<p>The doctor bent over him.</p> + +<p>"Are you wanting anything?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing—nothing, except that fellow Carey. Why in thunder doesn't he +come? No; there's nothing you can do. I'm pegging out. My time is up. +You can't put back the clock. I wouldn't let you if you could—not as +things are. I have been a blackguard in my time, but I'll take my last +hedge straight. I'll die like a man."</p> + +<p>Again he turned his head, seeming to listen.</p> + +<p>"I thought I heard something. Did someone open the door? It's getting +very dark."</p> + +<p>Yes; the door had opened, but only the dying brain had caught the sound. +As Carey came noiselessly forward only the dying man greeted him.</p> + +<p>"Ah, here you are! Come quite close to me! I want to see you, if I can. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Carey said.</p> + +<p>He sat down by Coningsby's side, facing the light.</p> + +<p>"I was told you wanted me," he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I want you to give me a promise." Coningsby spoke rapidly, with +brows drawn together. "I suppose you know I'm a dead man?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe in death," Carey answered very quietly.</p> + +<p>Coningsby's eyes burned with a strange light.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," he said. "Nor I. I've been too near it before now to be afraid. +Also, I've lived too long and too hard to care overmuch for what is +left. But there's one thing I mean to do before I go. And you'll give me +your promise to see it through?"</p> + +<p>He paused, breathing quick and short; then went on hurriedly, as a man +whose time is limited.</p> + +<p>"You'll stick to it, I know, for you're a fellow that speaks the truth. +I nearly thrashed you for it, once. Remember? You said I wasn't fit for +the society of any good woman. And you were right—quite right. I never +have been. Yet you ended by sending me the best woman in the world. What +made you do that, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Carey did not answer. His face was sternly composed. He had not once +glanced at the woman who sat on the other side of Coningsby's bed.</p> + +<p>Coningsby went on unheeding.</p> + +<p>"I drove her away from me, and you—you sent her back. I don't think I +could have done that for the woman I loved. For you do love her, eh, +Carey? I remember seeing it in your face that first night I brought you +here. It comes back to me. You were standing before her portrait in the +library. You didn't know I saw you. I was drunk at the time. But I've +remembered it since."</p> + +<p>Again he paused. His breath was slowing down. It came spasmodically, +with long silences between.</p> + +<p>Carey had listened with his eyes fixed and hard, staring straight before +him, but now slowly at length he turned his head, and looked down at the +man who was dying.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better tell me what it is you want me to do?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Coningsby seemed to rouse himself. "It isn't much, after all," he +said. "I made my will only this morning. It was on my way back that I +had the smash. I was quite sober, only I couldn't see very well, and I +lost control. All my property goes to my wife. That's all settled. But +there's one thing left—one thing left—which I am going to leave you. +It's the only thing I value, but there's no nobility about it, for I +can't take it with me where I'm going. I want you, Carey—when I'm +dead—to marry the woman you love, and give her happiness. Don't wait +for the sake of decency! That consideration never appealed to me. I say +it in her presence, that she may know it is my wish. Marry her, man—you +love each other—did you think I didn't know? And take her away to some +Utopia of your own, and—and—teach her—to forget me."</p> + +<p>His voice shook and ceased. His wife had slipped to her knees by the +bed, hiding her face. Carey sat mute and motionless, but the grim look +had passed from his face. It was almost tender.</p> + +<p>Gaspingly at length Coningsby spoke again: "Are you going to do it, +Carey? Are you going to give me your promise? I shall sleep the easier +for it."</p> + +<p>Carey turned to him and gripped one of the man's powerless hands in his +own. For a moment he did not speak—it almost seemed he could not. Then +at last, very low, but resolute his answer came:</p> + +<p>"I promise to do my part," he said.</p> + +<p>In the silence that followed he rose noiselessly and moved away.</p> + +<p>He left Naomi still kneeling beside the bed, and as he passed out he +heard the dying man speak her name. But what passed between them he +never knew.</p> + +<p>When he saw her again, nearly an hour later, Geoffrey Coningsby was +dead.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Dream_XI'></a><h3>XI</h3> + +<p>It was on a day of frosty sunshine, nearly a fortnight later, that Carey +dismounted before the door of Crooklands Manor, and asked for its +mistress.</p> + +<p>He was shown at once into the library, where he found her seated before +a great oak bureau with a litter of papers all around her.</p> + +<p>She flushed deeply as she rose to greet him. They had not met since the +day of her husband's funeral.</p> + +<p>"I see you're busy," he said, as he came forward.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she assented. "Such stacks of papers that must be examined before +they can be destroyed. It's dreary work, and I have been very thankful +to have Gwen with me. She has just gone out riding."</p> + +<p>"I met her," Carey said. "She was with young Rivers."</p> + +<p>"It is a farewell ride," Naomi told him. "She goes back to school +to-morrow. Dear child! I shall miss her. Please sit down!"</p> + +<p>The colour had ebbed from her face, leaving it very pale. She did not +look at Carey, but began slowly to sort afresh a pile of +correspondence.</p> + +<p>He ignored her request, and stood watching her till at last she laid the +packet down.</p> + +<p>Then somewhat abruptly he spoke: "I've just come in to tell you my +plans."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" She took up an old cheque-book, as if she could not bear to be +idle, and began to look through it, seeming to search for something.</p> + +<p>Again he fell silent, watching her.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" she repeated after a moment, bending a little over the book she +held.</p> + +<p>"They are very simple," he said quietly. "I'm going to a place I know of +in the Himalayas where there is a wonderful river that one can punt +along all day and all night, and never come to an end."</p> + +<p>Again he paused. The fingers that held the memorandum were not quite +steady.</p> + +<p>"And you have come to say good-bye?" she suggested in her deep, sad +voice.</p> + +<p>His eyes were turned gravely upon her, but there was a faint smile at +the corners of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"No," he said in his abrupt fashion. "That isn't in the plan. Good-bye +to the rest of the world if you will, but never again to you!"</p> + +<p>He drew close to her and gently took the cheque-book out of her grasp.</p> + +<p>"I want you to come with me, Naomi," he said very tenderly. "My darling, +will you come? I have wanted you—for years."</p> + +<p>A great quiver went through her, as though every pulse leapt to the +words he uttered. For a second she stood quite still, with her face +lifted to the sunlight. Then she turned, without question or words of +any sort, as she had turned long ago—yet with a difference—and laid +her hand with perfect confidence in his.</p> + + + +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> +<hr style='width: 80%;' /> + +<a name='The_Return_Game'></a><h2>THE RETURN GAME</h2> +<table border='0' cellpadding='5%' summary="TOC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right:auto;"><tr> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_I'>I</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_II'>II</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_III'>III</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_IV'>IV</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_V'>V</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_VI'>VI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_VII'>VII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_VIII'>VIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_IX'>IX</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_X'>X</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XI'>XI</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XII'>XII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XIII'>XIII</a></td> +<td><a href='#Return_Game_XIV'>XIV</a></td> +</tr></table> + +<a name='Return_Game_I'></a><h3>I</h3> + +<p>"Well played, Hone! Oh, well played indeed!"</p> + +<p>A great roar of applause went up from the polo-ground like the surge and +wash of an Atlantic roller. The regimental hero was distinguishing +himself—a state of affairs by no means unusual, for success always +followed Hone. His luck was proverbial in the regiment, as sure and as +deeply-rooted as his popularity.</p> + +<p>"It's the devil's own concoction," declared Teddy Duncombe, Major Hone's +warmest friend and admirer, who was watching from the great stand near +the refreshment-tent. "It never fails. We call him Achilles because he +always carries all before him."</p> + +<p>"Even Achilles had his vulnerable point," remarked Mrs. Perceval, to +whom the words were addressed.</p> + +<p>She spoke with her dark eyes fixed upon the distant figure. Seen from a +distance, he seemed to be indeed invincible—a magnificent horseman who +rode like a fury, yet checked and wheeled his pony with the skill of a +circus rider. But there was no admiration in Mrs. Perceval's intent +gaze. She looked merely critical.</p> + +<p>"Pat hasn't," replied Duncombe, whose love for Hone was no mean thing, +and who gloried in his Irish major's greatness. "He's a man in ten +thousand—the finest specimen of an imperfect article ever produced."</p> + +<p>His enthusiasm fell on barren ground. Mrs. Perceval was not apparently +bestowing much attention upon him. She was watching the play with brows +slightly drawn.</p> + +<p>Duncombe looked at her with faint surprise. She was not often +unappreciative, and he could not imagine any woman failing to admire +Hone. Besides, Mrs. Perceval and Hone were old friends, as everyone +knew. Was it not Hone who had escorted her to the East seven years ago +when she had left Home to join her elderly husband? By Jove, was it +really seven years since Perceval's beautiful young wife had taken them +all by storm? She looked a mere girl yet, though she had been three +years a widow. Small and dark and very regal was Nina Perceval, with the +hands and feet of a fairy and the carriage of a princess. He had seen +nothing of her during those last three years. She had been living a life +of retirement in the hills. But now she was going back to England and +was visiting her old haunts to bid her friends farewell. And Teddy +Duncombe found her as captivating as ever. She was more than beautiful. +She was positively dazzling.</p> + +<p>What a splendid pair she and Pat would make, Duncombe thought to himself +as he watched her. A man like Major Hone, V.C., ought to find a mate. +Every king should have a queen.</p> + +<p>The thought was still in his mind, possibly in his eyes also, when +abruptly Mrs. Perceval turned her head and caught him.</p> + +<p>"Taking notes, Captain Duncombe?" she asked, with a smile too careless +to be malicious.</p> + +<p>"Playing providence, Mrs. Perceval," he answered without embarrassment.</p> + +<p>He had never been embarrassed in her presence yet. She had a happy knack +of setting her friends at ease.</p> + +<p>"I hope you are preparing a kind fate for me," she said.</p> + +<p>He laughed a little. "What would you call a kind fate?"</p> + +<p>Her dark eyes flashed. She looked for a moment scornful. "Not the usual +woman's Utopia," she said. "I have been through that and come out on the +other side."</p> + +<p>"I can hardly believe it," protested Teddy.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know I am a cynic?" she said, with a little reckless laugh.</p> + +<p>A second wild shout from the spectators on all sides of them swept their +conversation away. On the further side of the ground Hone, with steady +wrist and faultless aim, had just sent the ball whizzing between the +posts.</p> + +<p>It was the end of the match, and Hone was once more the hero of the +hour.</p> + +<p>"Really, I sometimes think the gods are too kind to Major Hone," smiled +Mrs. Chester, the colonel's wife, and Mrs. Perceval's hostess. "It can't +be good for him to be always on the winning side."</p> + +<p>Hone was trotting quietly down the field, laughing all over his +handsome, sunburnt face at the cheers that greeted him. He dismounted +close to Mrs. Perceval, and was instantly seized by Duncombe and thumped +upon the back with all the force of his friend's goodwill.</p> + +<p>"Pat, old fellow, you're the finest sportsman in the Indian Empire. +Those chaps haven't been beaten for years."</p> + +<p>Hone laughed easily and swung himself free. "They've got some knowing +little brutes of ponies, by the powers," he said. "They slip about like +minnows. The Ace of Trumps was furious. Did you hear him squeal?"</p> + +<p>He turned with the words to his own pony and kissed the velvet nose that +was rubbing against his arm.</p> + +<p>"And a shame it is to make him carry a lively five tons," he murmured in +his caressing Irish brogue.</p> + +<p>For Hone was a giant as well as a hero and he carried his inches, as he +bore his honours, like a man.</p> + +<p>Raising his head, he encountered Mrs. Perceval's direct look. She bowed +to him with that regal air of hers that for all its graciousness yet +managed to impart a sense of remoteness to the man she thus honoured.</p> + +<p>"I have been admiring your luck, Major Hone," she said. "I am told you +are always lucky."</p> + +<p>He smiled courteously.</p> + +<p>"Sure, Mrs. Perceval, you can hardly expect me to plead guilty to that."</p> + +<p>"Anyway, you deserved your luck, Pat," declared Duncombe. "You played +superbly."</p> + +<p>"Major Hone excels in all games, I believe," said Mrs. Perceval. "He +seems to possess the secret of success."</p> + +<p>She spoke with obvious indifference; yet an odd look flashed across +Hone's brown face at the words. He almost winced.</p> + +<p>But he was quick to reply. "The secret of success," he said, "is to know +how to make the best of a beating."</p> + +<p>He was still smiling as he spoke. He met Mrs. Perceval's eyes with +baffling good-humour.</p> + +<p>"You speak from experience, of course?" she said. "You have proved it?"</p> + +<p>"Faith, that is another story," laughed Hone, hitching his pony's bridle +on his arm. "We live and learn, Mrs. Perceval. I have learnt it."</p> + +<p>And with that he bowed and passed on, every inch a soldier and to his +finger-tips a gentleman.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_II'></a><h3>II</h3> + +<p>"Hullo, Pat!"</p> + +<p>Teddy Duncombe, airily clad in pyjamas, stood a moment on the verandah +to peer in upon his major, then stepped into the room with the assurance +of one who had never yet found himself unwelcome.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, my son!" responded Hone, who, clad still more airily, was +exercising his great muscles with dumb-bells before plunging into his +morning tub.</p> + +<p>Duncombe seated himself to watch the operations with eyes of keen +appreciation.</p> + +<p>"By Jove," he said admiringly at length, "you are a mighty specimen! I +believe you'll live for ever."</p> + +<p>"Not on this plaguey little planet, let us trust!" said Hone, speaking +through his teeth by reason of his exertions.</p> + +<p>"You ought to marry," said Duncombe, still intently observant. "Giants +like you have no right to remain single in these degenerate days."</p> + +<p>"Faith!" scoffed Hone. "It's an age of feather-weights, and I'm out of +date entirely."</p> + +<p>He thumped down his dumb-bells, and stood up with arms outstretched. He +saw the open admiration in his friend's eyes, and laughed at it.</p> + +<p>But Duncombe remained serious.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you get married, Pat?" he said.</p> + +<p>Hone's arms slowly dropped. His brown face sobered. But the next instant +he smiled again.</p> + +<p>"Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly.</p> + +<p>"I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly.</p> + +<p>"The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is +she young, my son, and lovely?"</p> + +<p>"She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all +sincerity.</p> + +<p>"Faith!" laughed the Irishman. "But that's heartfelt! Why don't you +enter for the prize yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to marry little Lucy Fabian as soon as she will have me," +explained Duncombe. "We settled that ages ago, almost as soon as she +came out. It's not a formal engagement even yet, but she has promised to +bear it in mind. We had a talk last night, and—I believe I haven't much +longer to wait."</p> + +<p>"Good luck to you, dear fellow!" said Hone. "You deserve the best." He +laid his hand for a moment on Duncombe's shoulder. "It's been a good +partnership, Teddy boy," he said. "I shall miss you."</p> + +<p>Teddy gripped the hand hard.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to get married yourself, Pat," he declared urgently. "It +isn't good for man to live alone."</p> + +<p>"And so you are going to provide for my future also," laughed Hone. +"And the lady's name?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, she's an old friend!" said Duncombe. "Can't you guess?"</p> + +<p>Hone shook his head.</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine any old friend taking pity on me. Have you sounded her +feelings on the subject? Or perhaps she hasn't got any where I am +concerned."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, she has her feelings about you!" said Duncombe, with +confidence. "But I don't know what they are. She wasn't particularly +communicative on that point."</p> + +<p>"Or you, my son, were not particularly penetrating," suggested Hone.</p> + +<p>"I certainly didn't penetrate far," Duncombe confessed. "It was a case +of 'No admission to outsiders.' Still, I kept my eyes open on your +behalf; and the conclusion I arrived at was that, though reticent where +you were concerned, she was by no means indifferent."</p> + +<p>Hone stooped and picked up his dumb-bells once more.</p> + +<p>"Your conclusions are not always very convincing, Teddy," he remarked.</p> + +<p>Duncombe got to his feet in leisurely preparation for departure.</p> + +<p>"There was no mistake as to her reticence anyhow," he observed. "It was +the more conspicuous, as all the rest of us were yelling ourselves +hoarse in your honour. I was watching her, and she never moved her +lips, never even smiled. But her eyes saw no one else but you."</p> + +<p>Hone grunted a little. He was poising the dumb-bells at the full stretch +of his arms.</p> + +<p>Duncombe still loitered at the open window.</p> + +<p>"And her name is Nina Perceval," he said abruptly, shooting out the +words as though not quite certain of their reception.</p> + +<p>The dumb-bells crashed to the ground. Hone wheeled round. For a single +instant the Irish eyes flamed fiercely; but the next he had himself in +hand.</p> + +<p>"A pretty little plan, by the powers!" he said, forcing himself to speak +lightly. "But it won't work, my lad. I'm deeply grateful all the same."</p> + +<p>"Rats, man! She is sure to marry again." Duncombe spoke with deliberate +carelessness. He would not seem to be aware of that which his friend had +suppressed.</p> + +<p>"That may be," Hone said very quietly. "But she will never marry me. +And—faith, I'll be honest with you, Teddy, for the whole truth told is +better than a half-truth guessed—for her sake I shall never marry +another woman."</p> + +<p>He spoke with absolute steadiness, and he looked Duncombe full in the +eyes as he said it.</p> + +<p>A brief silence followed his statement; then impulsively Duncombe thrust +out his hand.</p> + +<p>"Hone, old chap, forgive me! I'm a headlong, blundering jackass!"</p> + +<p>"And the best friend a man ever had," said Hone gently. "It's an old +story, and I can't tell you all. It was just a game, you know; it began +in jest, but it ended in grim earnest, as some games do. It happened +that time we travelled out together, eight years ago. I was supposed to +be looking after her; but, faith, the monkey tricked me! I was a fool, +you see, Teddy." A faint smile crossed his face. "And she gave me an +elderly spinster to dance attendance upon while she amused herself. She +was only a child in those days. She couldn't have been twenty. I used to +call her the Princess, and I was St. Patrick to her. But the mischief +was that I thought her free, and—I made love to her." He paused a +moment. "Perhaps it's hardly fair to tell you this. But you're in love +yourself; you'll understand."</p> + +<p>"I understand," Duncombe said.</p> + +<p>"And she was such an innocent," Hone went on softly. "Faith, what an +innocent she was! Till one day she saw what had happened to me, and it +nearly broke her heart. For she hadn't meant any harm, bless her. It was +all a game with her, and she thought I was playing, too, till—till she +saw otherwise. Well, it all came to an end at last, and to save her from +grieving I pretended that I had known all along. I pretended that I had +trifled with her from start to finish. She didn't believe me at first, +but I made her—Heaven pity me!—I made her. And then she swore that she +would never forgive me. And she never has."</p> + +<p>Hone turned quietly away, and put the dumb-bells into a corner. Duncombe +remained motionless, watching him.</p> + +<p>"But she will, old chap," he said at last. "She will. Women do, you +know—when they understand."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," said Hone. "But she never can understand. I tricked her +too thoroughly for that." He faced round again, his grey eyes level and +very steady.</p> + +<p>"It's just my fate, Teddy," he said; "and I've got to put up with it. +However it may appear, the gods are not all-bountiful where I am +concerned. I may win everything in the world I turn my hand to, but I +have lost for ever the only thing I really want!"</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_III'></a><h3>III</h3> + +<p>It was two days later that Mrs. Chester decided to give what she termed +a farewell <i>fête</i> to all Nina Perceval's old friends. Nina had always +been a great favourite with her, and she was determined that the +function should be worthy of the occasion.</p> + +<p>To ensure success, she summoned Hone to her assistance. Hone always +assisted everybody, and it was well known that he invariably succeeded +in that to which he set his hand. And Hone, with native ingenuity, at +once suggested a water expedition by moonlight as far as the ruined +Hindu temple on the edge of the jungle that came down to the river at +that point. There was a spice of adventure about this that at once +caught Mrs. Chester's fancy. It was the very thing, she declared; a +water-picnic was so delightfully informal. They would cut for partners, +and row up the river in couples.</p> + +<p>To Nina Perceval the plan seemed slightly childish, but she veiled her +feelings from her friend as she veiled them from all the world; for very +soon it would be all over, sunk away in that grey, grey past into which +she would never look again. She even joined in conference with Mrs. +Chester and Hone over the details of the expedition, and if now and +then the Irishman's eyes rested upon her as though they read that which +she would fain have hidden, she never suffered herself to be +disconcerted thereby.</p> + +<p>When the party assembled on the eventful evening to settle the question +of partners, Hone was, as usual, in the forefront. The lots were drawn +under his management, not by his own choice, but because Mrs. Chester +insisted upon it. He presided over two packs of cards that had been +reduced to the number of guests. The men drew from one pack, the women +from the other; and thus everyone in the room was bound at length to +pair.</p> + +<p>Hone would have foregone this part of the entertainment, but the +colonel's wife was firm.</p> + +<p>"People never know how to arrange themselves," she declared. "And I +decline any responsibility of that sort. The Fates shall decide for us. +It will be infinitely more satisfactory in the end."</p> + +<p>And Hone could only bow to her ruling.</p> + +<p>Nina Perceval was the first to draw. Her card was the ace of hearts. She +slung it round her neck in accordance with Mrs. Chester's decree, and +sat down to await her destiny.</p> + +<p>It was some time in coming. One after another drew and paired in the +midst of much chaff and merriment; but she sat solitary in her corner +watching the pile of cards diminish while she remained unclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Most unusual!" declared Mrs. Chester. "Whom can the Fates be reserving +for you, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>Nina had no answer to make. She sat with her dark eyes fixed upon the +few cards that were left in front of Hone, not uttering a single word. +He sat motionless, too, Teddy Duncombe, who had paired with his hostess, +standing by his side. He was not looking in her direction, but by some +mysterious means she knew that his attention was focussed upon herself. +She was convinced in her secret soul that, though he hid his anxiety, he +was closely watching every card in the hope that he might ultimately +pair with her.</p> + +<p>The last man drew and found his partner. One card only was left in front +of Hone. He laid his hand upon it, paused for an instant, then turned it +up. The ace of hearts!</p> + +<p>She felt herself stiffen involuntarily, and something within her began +to pound and race like the hoofs of a galloping horse. A brief agitation +was hers, which she almost instantly subdued, but which left her +strangely cold.</p> + +<p>Hone had risen from the table. He came quietly to her side. There was no +visible elation about him. His grey eyes were essentially honest, but +they were deliberately emotionless at that moment.</p> + +<p>In the hubbub of voices all about them he bent and spoke.</p> + +<p>"It may not be the fate you would have chosen; but since submit we +must, shall we not make the best of it?"</p> + +<p>She met his look with the aloofness of utter disdain.</p> + +<p>"Your strategy was somewhat too apparent to be ascribed to Fate," she +said. "I cannot imagine why you took the trouble."</p> + +<p>A dark flush mounted under Hone's tan. He straightened himself abruptly, +and she was conscious of a moment's sharp misgiving that was strangely +akin to fear. Then, as he spoke no word, she rose and stood beside him, +erect and regal.</p> + +<p>"I submit," she said quietly; "not because I must, but because I do not +consider it worth while to do otherwise. The matter is too unimportant +for discussion."</p> + +<p>Hone made no rejoinder. He was staring straight before him, stern-eyed +and still.</p> + +<p>But a few moments later, he gravely proffered his arm, and in the midst +of a general move they went out together into the moonlit splendour of +the Indian night.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_IV'></a><h3>IV</h3> + +<p>Slowly the boats slipped through the shallows by the bank.</p> + +<p>Hone sat facing his companion in unbroken silence while he rowed +steadily up the stream. But there was no longer anger in his steady +eyes. The habit of kindness, which was the growth of a lifetime, had +reasserted itself. He had not been created to fulfil a harsh destiny. +The chivalry at his heart condemned sternness towards a woman.</p> + +<p>And Nina Perceval sat in the stern with the moonlight shining in her +eyes and the darkness of a great bitterness in her soul, and waited. +Despite her proud bearing she would have given much to have looked into +his heart at that moment. Notwithstanding all her scorn of him very deep +down in her innermost being she was afraid.</p> + +<p>For this was the man who long ago, when she was scarcely more than a +child, had blinded her, baffled her, beaten her. He had won her trust, +and had used it contemptibly for his own despicable ends. He had turned +an innocent game into tragedy, and had gone his way, leaving her life +bruised and marred and bitter before it had ripened to maturity. He had +put out the sunshine for ever, and now he expected to be forgiven.</p> + +<p>But she would never forgive him. He had wounded her too cruelly, too +wantonly, for forgiveness. He had laid her pride too low. For even yet, +in all her furious hatred of him, she knew herself bound by a chain that +no effort of hers might break. Even yet she thrilled to the sound of +that soft, Irish voice, and was keenly, painfully aware of him when he +drew near.</p> + +<p>He did not know it, so she told herself over and over again. No one +knew, or ever would know. That advantage, at least, was hers, and she +would carry it to her grave. But yet she longed passionately, +vindictively, to punish him for the ruin he had wrought, to humble +him—this faultless knight, this regimental hero, at whose shrine +everybody worshipped—as he had once dared to humble her; to make him +care, if it were ever so little—only to make him care—and then to +trample him ruthlessly underfoot, as he had trampled her.</p> + +<p>She began to wonder how long he meant to maintain that uncompromising +silence. From across the water came the gay voices of their +fellow-guests, but no other boat was very near them. His face was in the +shadow, and she had no clue to his mood.</p> + +<p>For a while longer she endured his silence. Then at length she spoke:</p> + +<p>"Major Hone!"</p> + +<p>He started slightly, as one coming out of deep thought.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you make conversation?" she asked, with a little cynical +twist of the lips. "I thought you had a reputation for being +entertaining."</p> + +<p>"Will it entertain you if I ask for an apology?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>"An apology!" She repeated the words sharply, and then softly laughed. +"Yes, it will, very much."</p> + +<p>"And yet you owe me one," said Hone.</p> + +<p>"I fear I do not always pay my debts," she answered. "But you will find +it difficult to convince me on this occasion that the debt exists."</p> + +<p>"Faith, I shall not try!" he returned, with a doggedness that met and +overrode her scorn. "The game isn't worth the candle. I know you will +think ill of me in either case."</p> + +<p>"Why, Major Hone?"</p> + +<p>He met her eyes in the moonlight, and she felt as if by sheer force he +held them.</p> + +<p>"Because," he said slowly, "I have made it impossible for you to do +otherwise."</p> + +<p>"Surely that is no one's fault but your own?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I blame no one else," said Hone.</p> + +<p>And with that he bent again to his work as though he had been betrayed +into plainer speaking than he deemed advisable, and became silent again.</p> + +<p>Nina Perceval trailed her hand in the water and watched the ripples. +Those few words of his had influenced her strangely. She had almost for +the moment forgotten her enmity. But it returned upon her in the +silence. She began to remember those bitter years that stretched behind +her, the blind regrets with which he had filled her life—this man who +had tricked her, lied to her—ay, and almost broken her heart in those +far-off days of her girlhood, before she had learned to be cynical.</p> + +<p>"And even if I did believe you," she said, "what difference would it +make?"</p> + +<p>Hone was silent for a moment. Then—"Just all the difference in the +world," he said, his voice very low.</p> + +<p>"You value my good opinion so highly?" she laughed. "And yet you will +make no effort to secure it?"</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes upon her again.</p> + +<p>"I would move heaven and earth to win it," he said, and she knew by his +tone that he was putting strong restraint upon himself, "if there were +the smallest chance of my ever doing so. But I know my limitations; I +know it's all no good. Once a blackguard, always a blackguard, eh, Mrs. +Perceval? And I'd be a special sort of fool if I tried to persuade you +otherwise."</p> + +<p>But still she only laughed, in spite of the agitation but half-subdued +in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I would offer to steer," she remarked irrelevantly, "only I don't feel +equal to the responsibility. And since you always get there sooner or +later, my help would be superfluous."</p> + +<p>"You share the popular belief about my luck?" asked Hone.</p> + +<p>"To be sure," she answered gaily. "Even you could scarcely manage to +find fault with it."</p> + +<p>He drew a deep breath. "Not with you in the boat," he said.</p> + +<p>She withdrew her hand from the water, and flicked it in his face.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't you better slow down? You are getting overheated. I feel as if I +were sitting in front of a huge furnace."</p> + +<p>"And you object to it?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. It's unseasonable. You Irish are so tropical."</p> + +<p>"It's only by contrast," urged Hone. "You will get acclimatised in +time."</p> + +<p>She raised her head with a dainty gesture.</p> + +<p>"You take a good deal for granted, Major Hone."</p> + +<p>"Faith, I know it!" he answered. "It's yourself that has turned my +head."</p> + +<p>Her laugh held more than a hint of scorn.</p> + +<p>"How amusing," she commented, "for both of us!"</p> + +<p>"Does it amuse you?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>The question did not call for a reply, and she made none. Only once more +she gathered up some water out of the magic moonlit ripples, and tossed +it in his face.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_V'></a><h3>V</h3> + +<p>They reached their destination far ahead of any of the others. A thick +belt of jungle stretched down to the river where they landed, enveloping +both banks a little higher up the stream.</p> + +<p>"What an awesome place!" remarked Mrs. Perceval, as she stepped ashore. +"I hope the rest will arrive soon, or I shall develop an attack of +nerves."</p> + +<p>"You've got me to take care of you," suggested Hone.</p> + +<p>She uttered her soft, little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Faith, Major Hone, and I'm not at all sure that it isn't yourself I +want to run away from!"</p> + +<p>Hone was securing the boat, and made no immediate response. But as he +straightened himself, he laughed also.</p> + +<p>"Am I so formidable, then?"</p> + +<p>She flashed a swift glance at him.</p> + +<p>"I haven't quite decided."</p> + +<p>"You have known me long enough," he protested.</p> + +<p>She shrugged her shoulders lightly.</p> + +<p>"Have I ever met you before to-night? I have no recollection of it."</p> + +<p>And mutely, with that chivalry which was to him the very air he +breathed, Hone bowed to her ruling. She would have no reference to the +past. It was to be a closed book to them both. So be it, then! For this +night, at least, she would have her way.</p> + +<p>He stepped forward in silence into the chequered shadow of the trees +that surrounded the ruin, and she walked lightly by his side with that +dainty, regal carriage of hers that made him yet in his secret heart +call her his princess.</p> + +<p>The place was very dark and eerie. The shrill cries of flying-foxes, +disturbed by their appearance, came through the magic silence. But no +living thing was to be seen, no other sound to be heard.</p> + +<p>"I'm frightened," said Nina suddenly. "Shall we stop?"</p> + +<p>"Hold my hand!" said Hone.</p> + +<p>"I'm not joking," she protested, with a shudder.</p> + +<p>"Nor am I," he said gently.</p> + +<p>She looked up at him sharply, as though she did not quite believe him, +and then unexpectedly and impulsively she laid her hand in his.</p> + +<p>His fingers closed upon it with a friendly, reassuring pressure, and she +never knew how the man's heart leapt and the blood turned to liquid fire +in his veins at her touch.</p> + +<p>She gave a shaky little laugh as though ashamed of her weakness. "We are +coming to an open space," she said. "We shall see the satyrs dancing +directly."</p> + +<p>"Faith, if we do, we'll join them," declared Hone cheerily.</p> + +<p>"They would never admit us," she answered. "They hate mortals. Can't you +feel them glaring at us from every tree? Why, I can breathe hostility in +the very air."</p> + +<p>She missed her footing as she spoke, and stumbled with a sharp cry. Hone +held her up with that steady strength of his that was ever equal to +emergencies, but to his surprise she sprang forward, pulling him with +her, almost before she had fully recovered her balance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, quick, quick!" she gasped. "I trod on something—something +that moved!"</p> + +<p>He went with her, for she would not be denied, and in a few seconds they +emerged into a narrow clearing in the jungle in which stood the ruin of +a small domed temple.</p> + +<p>Nina Perceval was shaking all over in a positive frenzy of fear, and +clinging fast to Hone's arm.</p> + +<p>"What was it?" he asked her, trying gently to disengage himself. "Was it +a snake that scared you?"</p> + +<p>She shuddered violently. "Yes, it must have been. A cobra, I should +think. Oh, what are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>"It's all right," Hone said soothingly. "You stay here a minute! I've +got some matches. I'll just go back a few yards and investigate."</p> + +<p>But at that she cried out so sharply that he thought for a moment that +something had hurt her. But the next instant he understood, and again +his heart leapt and strained within him like a chained thing.</p> + +<p>"No, Pat! No, no, no! You shall do no such thing!" Incoherently the +words rushed out, and with them the old familiar name, uttered all +unawares. "Do you think I'd let you go? Why, the place may be thronged +with snakes. And you—you have nothing to defend yourself with. How can +you dream of such a thing?"</p> + +<p>He heard her out with absolute patience. His face betrayed no sign of +the tumult within. It remained perfectly courteous and calm. Yet when he +spoke he, too, it seemed, had gone back to the old intimate days that +lay so far behind them.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but, Princess," he said, "what about our pals? If there is any +real danger we can't let them come stumbling into it. We'll have to warn +them."</p> + +<p>She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened. For an +instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something—was +it the expression in the man's steady eyes?—checked her.</p> + +<p>She stood a moment silent. Then, "You're quite right, Pat," she said, +her voice very low. "We'll go straight back to the boat and stop them."</p> + +<p>Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating.</p> + +<p>"You'll let me go first?" he said. "You stay here in the open! I'll come +back for you."</p> + +<p>But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated. "I won't!" she +declared vehemently. "I won't! Don't be so ridiculous! Of course I am +coming with you. Do you suppose I would let you go alone?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>He remembered later that she passed the question by. "We are wasting +time," she said, "Let us go!"</p> + +<p>And so together they went back into the danger that lurked in the +darkness.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_VI'></a><h3>VI</h3> + +<p>They went side by side, for she would not let him take the lead. Her +hand was in his, and he knew by its convulsive pressure something of the +sheer panic that possessed her. And he marvelled at the power that +nerved her, though he held his peace.</p> + +<p>They entered the dense shadow of the strip of jungle that separated them +from the stream, and very soon he paused to strike a match. She stood +very close to him. He was aware that she was trembling in every limb.</p> + +<p>He peered about him, but could see very little beyond the fact that the +path ahead of them lay clear. On both sides of this the undergrowth +baffled all scrutiny. He seemed to hear a small mysterious rustling +sound, but his most minute attention failed to locate it. The match +burned down to his fingers, and he tossed it away.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing between us and the water," he said cheerily. "We'll +make a dash for it."</p> + +<p>"Stay!" she whispered, under her breath. "I heard something!"</p> + +<p>"It's only a bit of a breeze overhead," said Hone. "We won't stop to +listen anyway."</p> + +<p>He caught her hand in his once more, grasping it firmly, and they moved +forward again. They could see the moonlight glimmering on the water +ahead, and in another yard or two the low-growing bush to which Hone had +moored the boat became visible.</p> + +<p>In that instant, with a jerk of terror, Nina stopped short. "Pat! What +is that?"</p> + +<p>Hone stood still. "There! Don't be scared!" he said soothingly. "What +would it be at all? There's nothing but shadow."</p> + +<p>"But there is!" she gasped. "There is! There! On the bank above the +boat! What is it, Pat? What is it?"</p> + +<p>Hone's eyes followed her quivering finger, discerning what appeared to +be a blot of shadow close to the bush above the water.</p> + +<p>"Sure, it's only shadow—" he began.</p> + +<p>But she broke in feverishly. "It's not, Pat! It's not! There's nothing +to cast it. It's in the full moonlight."</p> + +<p>"You stay here!" said Hone. "I'll go and have a look."</p> + +<p>"I won't!" she rejoined in a fierce whisper, holding him fast. "You—you +shan't go a step nearer. We must get away somehow—somehow!" with a +hunted glance around. "Not through the undergrowth, that's certain. +We—we shall have to go back."</p> + +<p>Hone was still staring at the motionless blot in the moonlight. He +resisted her frantic efforts to drag him away.</p> + +<p>"I must go and see," he said at last. "I'm sure there's nothing to alarm +us. We can't run away from shadows, Princess. We should never hold up +our heads again."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Pat, you fool!" she exclaimed, almost beside herself. "I tell you +that is no shadow! It's a snake! Do you hear? It's a huge python! And it +was a snake I trod on just now. And they are everywhere—everywhere! The +whole place is rustling with them. They are closing in on us. I can hear +them! I can feel them! I can smell them! Pat, what shall we do? Quick, +quick! Think of something! See now! It's moving—uncoiling! Look, look! +Did you ever see anything so horrible? Pat!"</p> + +<p>Her voice ended in a breathless shriek. She suddenly collapsed against +him, her face hidden on his breast. And Hone, stooping impulsively, +caught her up in his arms.</p> + +<p>"We'll get out of it somehow," he said. "Never fear!"</p> + +<p>But even his eyes had widened with a certain horror, for the blot in the +moonlight was beyond question moving, elongating, quivering, subtly +changing under his gaze.</p> + +<p>He held his companion pressed tightly to his heart. She made no further +attempt to urge him. Only by the tense clinging of her arms about his +neck did he know that she was conscious.</p> + +<p>Again he heard that vague rustling which he had set down to a sudden +draught overhead. It seemed to come from all directions.</p> + +<p>"Ye gods!" he muttered softly to himself. And again, more softly, "Ye +gods!"</p> + +<p>To the woman in his arms he uttered no word whatever. He only pressed +the slender figure ever closer, while the blood surged and sang +tumultuously in his veins. Though he stood in the midst of mortal +danger, he was conscious of an exultation so mad as to be almost +delirious. She was his—his—his!</p> + +<p>Something stirred in the undergrowth close to him, and in a moment his +attention was diverted from the slow-moving monster ahead of him. He +became aware of a dark object, but vaguely discernible, that swayed to +and fro about three feet from the ground seeming to menace him.</p> + +<p>The moment he saw this thing, his brain flashed into sudden +illumination. The shrewdness of the hunted creature entered into him. +Without panic, he became most vividly, most intensely alive to the +ghastly danger that threatened him. He stopped to ascertain nothing +further. Swift as a lightning flash he acted—leapt backwards, leapt +sideways, landed upon something that squirmed and thrashed hideously, +nearly overthrowing him; and the next moment was breaking madly through +the undergrowth, regardless of direction, running blindly through the +jungle, fighting furiously every obstacle—forcing by sheer giant +strength a way for himself and for the woman he carried through the +opposing tangle of vegetation.</p> + +<p>Branches slapped him in the face as he went, clutched at him, tore him, +but could not stay his progress. Many times he stumbled, many times he +recovered himself, dashing wildly on and still on like a man possessed. +A marvellous strength was his. Titan-like, he accomplished that which to +any ordinary man would have been an utter impossibility. Save that he +was in perfect condition, even he must have failed. But that fact was +his salvation, that and the fierce passion that urged him, endowing him +with an endurance more than human.</p> + +<p>Headlong as was his flight, the working of his brain was even swifter, +and very soon, without slackening his speed, he was swerving round again +towards the open. He could see the moonlight gleaming through the trees, +and he made a dash for it, utterly reckless, since caution was of no +avail, but alert for every danger, cunning for every advantage, keen as +the born fighter for every chance that offered.</p> + +<p>And so at last, torn, bleeding, but undismayed, he struggled free from +the undergrowth, and sprang away from that place of horrors, staggering +slightly but running strongly still, till the dark line of jungle fell +away behind him and he reached the river bank once more.</p> + +<p>Here he stopped and loosened his grip upon the slight form he carried. +Her arms dropped from his neck. She had fainted.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds he stared down into her white face, seeing nothing +else, while the fiery heart of him leapt and quivered like a wild thing +in leash. Then, suddenly, from the water a voice hailed him, and he +looked up with a start.</p> + +<p>"Hullo, Pat! What on earth is the matter? You have landed the wrong side +of the stream. Is anything wrong?"</p> + +<p>It was Teddy Duncombe in a boat below him. He saw his face of concern in +the moonlight.</p> + +<p>He pulled himself together.</p> + +<p>"I was coming to warn you. This infernal jungle is full of snakes. We've +had to run for it, and leave the boat behind."</p> + +<p>"Great Scotland! And Mrs. Perceval?"</p> + +<p>Again Hone's eyes sought the white face on his arm.</p> + +<p>"No, she isn't hurt. It's just a faint. Pull up close, and I'll hand her +down to you!"</p> + +<p>Between them, they lowered her into the boat. Hone followed, and raised +her to lean against his knee.</p> + +<p>Duncombe began to row swiftly across the stream, with an uneasy eye upon +the two in the stern.</p> + +<p>"What in the world made you go wrong, I wonder?" he said. "No one ever +goes that side, not even the natives. They say it's haunted. We all +landed near the old bathing <i>ghat</i>."</p> + +<p>Hone was moistening Nina Perceval's face with his handkerchief. He made +no reply to Teddy's words. He was anxiously watching for some sign of +returning consciousness.</p> + +<p>It came very soon. The dark eyes opened and gazed up at him, at first +uncomprehendingly, then with a dawning wonder.</p> + +<p>"St. Patrick!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>"Princess!" he whispered back.</p> + +<p>With an effort she raised herself, leaning against him.</p> + +<p>"What happened? Were you hurt? Your face is all bleeding!"</p> + +<p>"It's nothing!" he said jerkily. "It's nothing!"</p> + +<p>She took his handkerchief in her trembling hand and wiped the blood +away. She said no more of any sort. Only when she gave it back to him +her eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>And Hone caught the little hand in passionate, dumb devotion, and +pressed it to his lips.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_VII'></a><h3>VII</h3> + +<p>"I am so sorry, Major Hone, but she is seeing no one. I would ask you to +dine if it would be of any use. But you wouldn't see her if I did."</p> + +<p>So spoke the colonel's wife three days later in a sympathetic undertone; +while Hone paced beside her <i>rickshaw</i> with a gloomy face.</p> + +<p>"She isn't ill?" he asked. "You are sure she isn't ill?"</p> + +<p>"No, not really ill. Her nerves are upset, of course. That was almost +inevitable. But she has determined to start for Bombay on Monday, and +nothing I can say will make her change her purpose."</p> + +<p>"But she can't mean to go without saying good-bye!" he protested.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chester shook her head.</p> + +<p>"She says she doesn't like good-byes. I had the greatest difficulty in +persuading her to come here at all. I am afraid that is exactly what she +does mean to do."</p> + +<p>Hone stood still. His face was suddenly stubborn.</p> + +<p>"I must see her," he said, "with her consent or without it. Will you, of +your goodness, ask me to dine tonight? I will manage the rest for +myself."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chester looked somewhat dubious. Long as she had known Hone, she +was not familiar with this mood.</p> + +<p>He saw her hesitation, and smiled upon her persuasively.</p> + +<p>"You are not going to refuse my petition? It isn't yourself that would +have the heart!"</p> + +<p>She laughed, in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, go away, you wheedling Irishman! Yes, you may dine if you like. The +Gerrards are coming for bridge, and you'll be odd man out. There will be +no one to entertain you."</p> + +<p>"Sure, I can entertain myself," grinned Hone. "And it's truly grateful +that I am to your worshipful ladyship."</p> + +<p>He bowed, with his hand upon his heart, and, turning, went his way.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Chester went hers, still vaguely doubtful as to the wisdom of her +action. In common with the rest of mankind, she found Hone well-nigh +impossible to resist.</p> + +<p>When he made his appearance that evening, he presented an absolutely +serene aspect to the world at large. He was the gayest of the party, and +Mrs. Chester's uneasiness speedily evaporated. Nina Perceval was not +present, but this fact apparently did not depress him. He remained in +excellent spirits throughout dinner.</p> + +<p>When it was over, and the bridge players were established on the +veranda, he drifted off to the smoking-room in an aimless, inconsequent +fashion, and his hostess and accomplice saw him no more.</p> + +<p>She would have given a good deal to have witnessed his subsequent +movements, but she would have been considerably disappointed had she +done so, for Hone's methods were disconcertingly direct. All he did when +he found himself alone was to sit down and scribble a brief note.</p> + +<p>"I am waiting to see you" (so ran his message). "Will you come to me +now, or must I follow you to the world's end? One or the other it will +surely be.—Yours, PAT."</p> + +<p>This note he delivered to the <i>khitmutgar</i>, with orders to return to him +with a reply. Then, with a certain massive patience, he resumed his +cigar and settled himself to wait.</p> + +<p>The <i>khitmutgar</i> did not return, but he showed no sign of exasperation. +His eyes stared gravely into space. There was not a shade of anxiety in +them.</p> + +<p>And it was thus that Nina Perceval found him when at last she came +lightly in from the veranda in answer to his message. She entered +without the smallest hesitation, but with that regal air of hers before +which men did involuntary homage. Her shadowy eyes met his without fear +or restraint of any sort, but they held no gladness either. Her +remoteness chilled him.</p> + +<p>"Why did you send me that extraordinary message?" she said. "Wasn't it a +little unnecessary?"</p> + +<p>He had risen to meet her. He paused to lay aside his cigar before he +answered, and in the pause that dogged expression that had surprised +Mrs. Chester descended like a mask and covered the first spontaneous +impulse to welcome her that had dominated him.</p> + +<p>"It was necessary that I should see you," he said.</p> + +<p>"I really don't know why," she returned. "I wrote a note to thank you +for the care you took of me the other night. That was days ago. I +suppose you received it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I received it," said Hone. "I have been trying, without success, +to see you ever since."</p> + +<p>She made a slight impatient movement.</p> + +<p>"I haven't seen any one. I was upset after that horrible adventure. I +shouldn't be seeing you now, only your ridiculous note made me wonder if +there was anything wrong. Is there?"</p> + +<p>She faced him with the direct inquiry. There was a faint frown between +her brows. Her delicate beauty possessed him like a charm. He felt his +blood begin to quicken, but he kept himself in check.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing wrong, Princess," he said steadily. "I am, as ever, +your humble servant, only I've got to come to the point with you before +you go. I've got to make the most of this shred of opportunity which you +have given me against your will. You are not disposed to be generous, I +see; but I appeal to your sense of justice. Is it fair play at all to +fling a man into gaol, and to refuse to let him plead on his own +behalf?"</p> + +<p>The annoyance passed like a shadow from her face. She began to smile.</p> + +<p>"What can you mean?" she said. "Is it a joke—a riddle? Am I supposed to +laugh?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven help me, no!" he said. "There is only one woman in the world +that I can't trifle with, and that's yourself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but what an admission!" She laughed at him, softly mocking. "And +I'm so fond of trifling, too. Then what can you possibly want with me? I +suppose you have really called to say good-bye."</p> + +<p>"No," said Hone. He spoke quickly, and, as he spoke, he leaned towards +her. A deep glow had begun to smoulder in his eyes. "It's something else +that I've come to say—something quite different. I've come to tell you +that you are all the world to me, that I love you with all there is of +me, that I have always loved you. Yes, you'll laugh at me. You'll think +me mad. But if I don't take this chance of telling you, I'll never have +another. And even if it makes no difference at all to you, I'm bound to +let you know."</p> + +<p>He ceased. The fire that smouldered in his eyes had leaped to lurid +flame; but still he held himself in check, he subdued the racing madness +in his veins. He was, as ever, her humble servant.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she realized it, for she showed no sign of shrinking as she +stood before him. Her eyes grew a little wider and a little darker, that +was all.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to say to you, Major Hone," she said, after a +moment. "I don't know even what you expect me to say, since you +expressly tell me that you are not trifling."</p> + +<p>"Faith!" he broke in impetuously. "And is it trifling I'd be with the +only woman I ever loved or ever wanted? I'm not asking you to flirt. I'm +asking a bigger thing of you than that. I'm asking you—Princess, I'm +asking you to stay—and be my wife."</p> + +<p>He drew nearer to her, but he made no attempt to touch her. Only the +flame of his passion seemed to reach her, to scorch her, for she made a +slight movement away from him.</p> + +<p>She looked at him doubtfully. "I still don't know what to say," she +said.</p> + +<p>His face altered. With a mighty effort he subdued the fiery impulse that +urged him to override her doubts and fears, to take and hold her in his +arms, to make her his with or without her will.</p> + +<p>He became in a trice the kindly, winning personality that all his world +knew and loved. "Sure then, you're not afraid of me?" he said, as though +he softly cajoled a child. "It wouldn't be yourself at all if you were, +you that could tread me underfoot like a centipede and not be a mite the +worse."</p> + +<p>She smiled a little, smiled and uttered a sudden quick sigh. "Don't you +think you are rather a fool, Pat?" she said. "I gave you credit for more +shrewdness. You certainly had more once."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" There was a sharp note of pain in Hone's voice.</p> + +<p>She moved restlessly across the room and paused with her back to him. +"None but a fool would conclude that because a woman is pretty she must +be good as well," she said, a tremor of bitterness in her voice. "Why do +you take it for granted in this headlong fashion that I am all that man +could desire?"</p> + +<p>"You are all that I want," he said.</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "The woman who lived inside me died long ago," she +said, "and a malicious spirit took her place."</p> + +<p>"None but yourself would ever dare to say that to me," said Hone. "And I +won't listen even to you. Princess—"</p> + +<p>"You are not to call me that!" She rounded upon him suddenly, a fierce +gleam in her eyes. "You must never—never—"</p> + +<p>She broke off. He was close to her, with that on his face that stilled +her protest. He gathered her to him with a tenderness that yet was +irresistible.</p> + +<p>"Sure, then," he whispered, with a whimsical humour that cloaked all +deeper feeling, "you shall be my queen instead, for by the saints I +swear that in some form or other I was created to be your slave."</p> + +<p>And though she averted her face and after a moment withdrew herself from +his arms, she raised no further protest. She suffered him to plant the +flag of his supremacy unhindered.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_VIII'></a><h3>VIII</h3> + +<p>Certainly the colonel's wife was in her element. A wedding in the +regiment, and that the wedding of its idolized hero, was to her an +affair of almost more importance than anything that had happened since +her own. The church had been fully decorated under her directions, and +she had turned it into as elegant a reception room as circumstances +permitted. White favours had been distributed to the dusky warriors +under Hone's command who lined the aisle. All was in readiness, from the +bridegroom, resplendent in scarlet and gold, waiting in the chancel with +Teddy Duncombe, the best man, to the buzzing guests who swarmed in at +the west door to be received by the colonel's wife, who in her capacity +of hostess seemed to be everywhere at once.</p> + +<p>"She was quite ready when I left, and looking sweet," so ran the story +to one after another. "Oh, yes, in her travelling dress, of course. That +had to be. But quite bridal—the palest silver grey. She looks quite +charming, and such a girl. No one would ever think—" and so on, to +innumerable acquaintances, ending where she had begun—"yes, she was +quite ready when I left, and looking sweet!"</p> + +<p>Ready or not, she was undoubtedly late, as is the recognised custom of +brides all the world over. The organist, who had been playing an +impressive selection, was drawing to the end of his resources and +beginning to improvise somewhat spasmodically. The bridegroom betrayed +no impatience, but there was undeniable strain in his attitude. He stood +stiff and motionless as a soldier on parade. The guests were commencing +to peer and wonder. Mrs. Chester made her tenth pilgrimage to the door.</p> + +<p>Ah! The carriage at last! She turned back with a beaming face, and +rustled up the aisle as though she were the heroine of the occasion. A +flutter of expectation went through the church. The organist plunged +abruptly into "The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden."</p> + +<p>Everyone rose. Everyone craned towards the door. The carriage, with its +flying favours, was stopping, had stopped. The colonel was seen +descending.</p> + +<p>He was looking very pale, whispered someone. Could anything be wrong? He +was not wont to suffer from nervousness.</p> + +<p>He did not turn to assist the bride. Surely that was strange! Nor did +she follow him. Surely—surely the carriage behind him was empty!</p> + +<p>Something indeed had happened. She must be ill! A great tremor went +through the waiting crowd. No one was singing, but the music pealed on +and on till some wild rumour of disaster reached the waiting chaplain, +and he stepped across the chancel and touched the organist's shoulder.</p> + +<p>Instantly silence fell—a terrible, nerve-racking silence. Colonel +Chester had entered. He stood just within the door, pale and stern, +whispering to the officer in charge of the men. People stared at him, at +each other, at the bridegroom still standing motionless by the chancel +steps. And then at last the silence broke into a murmur that spread and +spread. Something had happened! Something was wrong! No, the bride was +not ill. But there would be no wedding that day.</p> + +<p>Someone came hurriedly and spoke to Teddy Duncombe, who turned first +crimson, then very white, and finally pulled himself together with a +jerk and went to Hone. Everyone craned to see what would happen—how the +news would affect him, whether he would be deeply shocked, or +whether—whether—ah! A great sigh went through the church. He did not +seem startled or even greatly dismayed. He listened to Duncombe gravely, +but without any visible discomfiture. There could not be anything very +serious the matter, then. A note was put into his hand, which he read +with absolute calmness under the eyes of the multitude.</p> + +<p>When he looked up from it, the colonel had reached his side. They +exchanged a few words, and then Hone, smiling faintly, beckoned to the +chaplain. He rested a hand on his shoulder in his careless, friendly +way, and spoke into his ear.</p> + +<p>The chaplain looked deeply concerned, nodded once or twice, and, +straightening himself, faced the crowd of guests.</p> + +<p>"I am requested to state," he announced in the midst of dead silence, +"that, owing to a most regrettable and unforeseen mischance, the happy +event which we are gathered here to celebrate must be unavoidably +postponed. The bride has just received an urgent summons to England on a +matter of the first importance, which she feels compelled to obey, and +she is already on her way to Bombay in the hope of catching the steamer +which will sail to-morrow. It only remains for me to express deep +sympathy, in which I am sure all present join me, with our friend Major +Hone and his bride-elect on their disappointment, and the sincere hope +that their happy union may not long be deferred."</p> + +<p>He ended with a doubtful glance at Hone, who, standing on the chancel +steps, bowed briefly, and, taking Duncombe by the shoulder, marched with +him into the vestry. He certainly did not look in the least disconcerted +or anxious. It could not be anything really serious. A feeling of relief +lightened the atmosphere. People began to talk, to speculate, even to +enjoy the sensation. Poor Hone! He was not often unlucky. But, of +course, it would be all right. He would probably follow his bride to +England, and they would be married there. Doubtless that was his +intention, or he could not have looked so undismayed.</p> + +<p>So ran the tide of gossip and surmise. And in Hone's pocket lay the +twisted note which the woman he loved had left behind—the note which he +had read with an unmoved countenance under a host of watching eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, St. Patrick! It has been an amusing game, has it not? Do you +remember how you beat me once long ago? I was but a child in those days. +I did not know the rules of the game, and so you had the advantage. But +you could not hope to have it always. It is my turn now, and I think I +may claim the return match for my own. So good-bye, Achilles! Perhaps +the gods will send you better luck next time. Who knows?"</p> + +<p>No eye but Hone's ever read that heartless note, and his but once. Half +an hour after he had received it, it lay in ashes, but every word of it +was graven deep upon his brain.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_IX'></a><h3>IX</h3> + +<p>It was in the early hours of the morning that Nina Perceval reached +Bombay.</p> + +<p>She had sat wide-eyed and motionless all through the night. She had felt +no desire to sleep. An intense horror of her surroundings seemed to +possess her. She was like a hunted creature seeking to escape from a +world of horrors. She would know no rest till she reached the sea, till +she was speeding away over the glittering water, and the land—that land +which had become more hateful to her than any prison—was left far +behind.</p> + +<p>She had played her game, she had sped her shaft, and now panic—sheer, +unreasoning panic—filled her. She was terrified at what she had done, +too terrified yet for coherent thought. She had taken her revenge at +last. She had pierced her conqueror to the heart. As he had once laughed +at her, as he had once, with a smile and a jest, broken and tossed her +aside—so she had done to him. She had gathered up her wounded pride, +and she had smitten him therewith. She was convinced that he would never +laugh at her again.</p> + +<p>He would get over it, of course; men always did. She had known men by +the score who played the same merry game, men who broke hearts for +sport and went their careless ways, unheeding, uncomprehending. It was +the way of the world, this world of countless tragedies. She had +learned, in her piteous cynicism, to look for nothing else. Faithfulness +had become to her a myth. Surely all men loved—they called it love—and +rode away.</p> + +<p>No, she did not flatter herself that she had hurt him very seriously. +She had dealt his pride a blow, that was all.</p> + +<p>She reached Bombay, and secured her berth. The steamer was to sail at +noon. There were not a great many passengers, and she managed to engage +a cabin to herself. But she could not even attempt to rest in that +turmoil of noise and excitement. She went ashore again, and repaired to +a hotel for a meal. She took a private room, and lay down; but sleep +would not come to her, and presently, urged by that gnawing +restlessness, she was pacing up and down, up and down, like a wild +creature newly caged.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she paused at the window to stare down into the busy +thoroughfare below, but she never paused for long. The fever that +consumed her gave her no rest, and again she was pacing to and fro, to +and fro, eternally, counting the leaden minutes that crept by so slowly.</p> + +<p>At last, when flesh and blood could endure no longer, she snatched up +her hat and veil, and prepared to go on board. Standing before a mirror, +she began to adjust these with trembling fingers, but suddenly stopped +dead, gazing speechlessly before her. For her own eyes had inadvertently +met the eyes of the haggard woman in the glass, and dumbly, with a new +horror clutching at her heart, she stared into their wild depths and +read as in a book the tale of torture that they held.</p> + +<p>When she turned away at length, she was shivering from head to foot as +though she had seen a spectre; and so in truth she had. For those eyes +had told her what she had not otherwise begun to realise.</p> + +<p>That which she had believed dead for so long had been, only dormant, and +had sprung to sudden, burning life. The weapon with which she had +thought to pierce her enemy had turned in her grasp and pierced her +also, pierced her with an agony unspeakable—ay, pierced her to the +heart.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_X'></a><h3>X</h3> + +<p>As one in a dream she stood on deck and watched India slipping below the +horizon. Her restlessness was subsiding at last. She was conscious of an +intense weariness, greater than any she had ever known. As soon as that +distant line of land had disappeared she told herself that she would go +and rest. Her fellow passengers had for the most part settled down. They +sat about in groups under the awning. A few, like herself, stood at the +rail and gazed astern, but there was no one very near her. She felt as +if she stood utterly alone in all the world.</p> + +<p>Slowly at last she turned away. Slowly she crossed the deck and began to +descend the companion. A knot of people stood talking at the foot. They +made way for her to pass. She went through them without a glance. She +scarcely even saw them.</p> + +<p>She went to her cabin and lay down, but she knew at once that sleep +would not come to her. Her eyes burned as though weighted with many +scalding tears, but she could not weep. She could only lie staring +vaguely before her, and dumbly endure that suffering which she had +vainly fancied could never again be her portion. She could only +strive—and strive in vain—to shut out the vision of the man she loved +standing alone at the altar waiting for the woman who had played him +false.</p> + +<p>The dinner hour approached. Mechanically she rose and dressed. She did +not shrink from meeting the eyes of strangers. They simply did not exist +for her. She took her place in the great dining saloon, looking neither +to right nor left. The buzz of conversation all around her passed her +by. She might have been sitting in utter solitude. And all the while the +misery gnawed ever deeper into her heart.</p> + +<p>She rose at last, before the meal was ended, and went up to the great +empty deck. She felt as if she would stifle below. But, up above, the +wash of the sea and the immensity of the night soothed her somewhat. She +found a secluded corner, and leaned upon the rail, gazing out over the +black waste of water.</p> + +<p>What was he doing, she wondered. How was he spending this second night +of misery? Had he begun to console himself already? She tried to think +so, but failed—failed utterly.</p> + +<p>Irresistibly the memory of the man swept over her, his gentleness, his +chivalry, his unfailing kindness. She was beginning to see the whole +bitter tragedy by the light of her repentance. He had loved her, surely +he had loved her in those old days when she had tricked him in sheer, +childish gaiety of soul. And, for her sake, that her suffering might be +the briefer, he had masked his love. She had never thought so before, +but she saw it clearly now.</p> + +<p>It had all been a miserable misunderstanding from beginning to end, but +she was sure, now, that he had loved her faithfully for all those years. +And if it were against all reason to think so, if all her experience +told her that men were not moulded thus, had not his chosen friend +declared him to be one in ten thousand, and did not her quivering +woman's heart know him to be such? Ah, what had she done? What had she +done?</p> + +<p>"Oh, Pat!" she sobbed. "Pat! Pat! Pat!"</p> + +<p>The great idol of her pride had fallen at last, and she wept her heart +out up there in the darkness, till physical exhaustion finally overcame +her, and she could weep no more.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XI'></a><h3>XI</h3> + +<p>"Won't you sit down?" a quiet voice said.</p> + +<p>She started out of what was almost a stupor of grief, to find a man's +figure standing close to her. Her eyes were all blinded by weeping, and +she could see him but vaguely in the dimness. She had not heard him +approach. He seemed to appear from nowhere. Or had he, perchance, been +near her all the time?</p> + +<p>Instinctively she drew a little away from him, though in that moment of +utter desolation even the sympathy of a stranger sent a faint warmth of +comfort to her heart.</p> + +<p>"There is a chair here," the quiet voice went on, and as she turned +vaguely, almost as though feeling her way, a steady hand closed upon her +elbow and guided her.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was the touch that, like the shock of an electric current, +sent the blood suddenly tingling through her veins, or it may have been +some influence more subtle. She was yielding half-mechanically when +suddenly, piercing her through and through, there came to her such a +flash of revelation as almost deprived her for the moment of her +senses.</p> + +<p>She stood stock still and faced him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, who is it?" she cried piteously. "Who is it?"</p> + +<p>The hand that held her tightened ever so slightly. He did not instantly +reply, but when he did, it was on a note of grimness that she had never +heard from him before.</p> + +<p>"It is I—Pat," he told her. "Have you any objection?"</p> + +<p>She gazed at him speechlessly as one in a dream. He had followed her, +then; he had followed her! But wherefore?</p> + +<p>She began to tremble in the grip of sudden, overmastering fear. This was +the last thing she had anticipated. What could it mean? Had she driven +him demented? Had he pursued her to wreak his vengeance upon her, +perhaps to kill her?</p> + +<p>Compelled by the pressure of his hand, she moved to the dark seat he had +indicated, and sank down.</p> + +<p>He stood beside her, looming large in the gloom. A terrible silence fell +between them. Worn out by sleeplessness and bitter weeping, she cowered +before him dumbly. She had no pride left, no weapon of any sort +wherewith to resist him. She longed, yet dreaded unspeakably, to hear +his voice. He was watching her, she knew, though she did not dare to +raise her head.</p> + +<p>He spoke at last, quietly, without emotion, yet with that in his +deliberate utterance that made her shrink and quiver in every nerve.</p> + +<p>"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't +beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play +to a finish before we decide who scoops the pool."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" she whispered.</p> + +<p>He did not answer her, and she thought there was something contemptuous +in his silence.</p> + +<p>She waited a little, summoning her strength, then, rising, with a +desperate courage she faced him.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you. Tell me what you mean!"</p> + +<p>He made a curious gesture as if he would push her from him.</p> + +<p>"I am not good at explaining myself," he said. "But you will understand +me better presently."</p> + +<p>And again inexplicably she shrank. There was that about him which +terrified her more than any uttered menace.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" she said nervously. "Why—why have you +followed me?"</p> + +<p>He answered her in a tone which she deemed scoffing. It was too dark for +her to see his face.</p> + +<p>"You can hardly expect me to show my hand at this stage," he said. "You +never showed me yours."</p> + +<p>It was true, and she found no word to say against it. But none the less, +she was horribly afraid. She felt herself to be utterly at his mercy, +and was instinctively aware that he was in no mood to spare her.</p> + +<p>"I can't go on playing, Pat," she said, after a moment, her voice very +low. "I have no cards left to play."</p> + +<p>"In that case you are beaten," he said, with that doggedness which she +was beginning to know as a part of his fighting equipment. "Do you own +it?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Do you own it?" he insisted sternly.</p> + +<p>And, yielding to a sudden impulse that overwhelmed all reason, she threw +herself unreservedly upon his mercy.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I own it."</p> + +<p>He stood silent for several seconds after the admission, while she +waited with a thumping heart. At last, half-grudgingly it seemed to her, +he spoke.</p> + +<p>"You are a wise woman," he said, "even wiser than I took you for, which +is saying much. The game is ended, then. But you will pardon me if I +refuse to surrender my winnings. Such as they are, I value them."</p> + +<p>She bent her head. Her subjection was complete. She was too exhausted, +physically and mentally, to attempt to withstand him, and undoubtedly +the ultimate victory was his. Had he not witnessed those agonizing +tears?</p> + +<p>"You are welcome to anything you can find," she said, smiling wanly. "I +suppose all experience is of value. At least, I used to think so."</p> + +<p>Again for a moment he was silent. Then: "It is the most valuable thing +in the world," he said, "if you know how to turn it to account. But, +sure, that is a lesson that some of us are slow to learn."</p> + +<p>He paused; then, as she remained silent, "You are going below to rest?" +he said. "Don't let me keep you! You have travelled hard, and need it."</p> + +<p>There was a hint of the old kindliness in his tone. She stood listening +to it, longing, yet not daring to avail herself of it and make her peace +with him.</p> + +<p>But, whatever his intentions, it was apparently no part of Hone's plan +to allow himself to be conciliated at that stage, for, after the +briefest pause, he bowed abruptly and stepped aside.</p> + +<p>And Nina Perceval went humbly away, as befitted one who had played a +desperate game, and had been outwitted by the adversary she had dared to +despise.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XII'></a><h3>XII</h3> + +<p>During the whole three weeks of the voyage Hone took no further action.</p> + +<p>Nina saw him every day of those interminable weeks, but he made no sign. +He did not seek her out, neither did he avoid her, but continually he +mystified her by the cheery indifference of his bearing.</p> + +<p>He became—as was almost inevitable—an immense favourite on board. He +was in the thick of every amusement, and no entertainment was complete +without him. No rumour of the extraordinary circumstances that had led +to his undertaking the voyage had reached their fellow passengers. No +one suspected that anything unusual existed between the winning, +frank-faced Irishman and the silent young widow who so seldom looked his +way. No one had heard of the wedding party that had lacked a bride.</p> + +<p>But everyone welcomed Hone, V.C., as a tremendous acquisition, and Hone, +V.C., laughed his humorous, good-tempered laugh, and placed himself +unreservedly and impartially at everyone's disposal.</p> + +<p>Nina never saw him in private. In public he treated her with the kindly +courtesy he extended to every woman on board. There was not in his +manner the faintest hint of anything deeper. He would laugh into her +eyes with absolute friendliness. And yet from the depths of her soul she +feared him. She knew that he was continuing the game that she had +wantonly begun. She knew that there was more to come, that he had not +done with her, that he was merely waiting, as an experienced player +knows how to wait, till the time arrived to play his final card.</p> + +<p>What that final card could be she had not the remotest idea, but she +awaited it with an almost morbid sense of dread. His very forbearance +seemed ominous.</p> + +<p>On the night before their arrival there was a dance on board. Nina, who +had not joined in any of these gaieties for the simple reason that she +had no heart for them, rose from dinner with the intention of going to +her cabin. But as she passed out of the saloon, Hone stepped forward and +intercepted her.</p> + +<p>"Will you give me a dance, Mrs. Perceval?"</p> + +<p>She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with an effort.</p> + +<p>"I am not dancing," she said.</p> + +<p>"Just one," he pleaded, with that air of gallantry that cloaked she knew +not what.</p> + +<p>She hesitated, and then, almost in spite of herself, with something of +the old regal graciousness, she yielded.</p> + +<p>"Just one, then, Major Hone, since to-morrow it will be good-bye."</p> + +<p>He thanked her with a deep bow, and promptly led her away.</p> + +<p>They danced the first waltz together in unbroken silence. Nina kept her +face studiously turned over her shoulder. Not once did she glance at her +partner, whose quiet dancing and steady arm told her nothing.</p> + +<p>When it was over, he led her to a seat in full view of the other +dancers, and sat down beside her. For a few seconds he maintained his +silence, then quietly he turned and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to stay in London?"</p> + +<p>The direct question surprised her. Somehow, though he had given her +small reason to do so, she had come to expect naught but subtle strategy +from him.</p> + +<p>"I shall spend one night there," she said, after a moment's thought.</p> + +<p>"No longer?"</p> + +<p>She faced him calmly, though her heart had begun to leap and race within +her.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask?"</p> + +<p>"Why don't you answer?" said Hone.</p> + +<p>He was smiling faintly, but there was determination in the set of his +jaw.</p> + +<p>"Because," she said slowly, "I am not sure that I want you to know."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said Hone. She shook her head in silence. "It's sorry I am to +hear it," he said, after a brief pause. "For if it's to be a game of +hide-and-seek I shall soon run you to earth."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyebrows. Had they been alone together she knew that she +could not have disguised her fear. It had grown upon her marvellously of +late. But the publicity of their intercourse endued her with a certain +courage.</p> + +<p>"What is it that you want of me?" she said.</p> + +<p>He met her eyes with absolute steadiness.</p> + +<p>"I will tell you," he said, "the next time we meet."</p> + +<p>She tried to laugh to hide the wild tumult his words stirred up.</p> + +<p>"Is that a promise?"</p> + +<p>"My solemn bond," said Hone.</p> + +<p>She rose.</p> + +<p>"I shall stay at the Seton Ward Hotel for a week," she said. +"Good-night!"</p> + +<p>He rose also; they stood for a moment face to face.</p> + +<p>"Alone?" he asked.</p> + +<p>And again, with a reckless sense of throwing herself upon his mercy, she +made brief reply.</p> + +<p>"I haven't a friend in the world."</p> + +<p>He gave her his arm.</p> + +<p>"Any enemies?" he asked.</p> + +<p>They were at the door before she answered.</p> + +<p>"Yes—one."</p> + +<p>For an instant his arm grew tense, detaining her.</p> + +<p>"And that?" he questioned.</p> + +<p>She withdrew her hand sharply.</p> + +<p>"Myself," she said, and swiftly, without another glance, she left him.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XIII'></a><h3>XIII</h3> + +<p>The roar of the London traffic rose muffled through the London fog. It +was a winter afternoon of great murkiness.</p> + +<p>In the private sitting-room of a private hotel Nina Perceval sat alone, +as she had sat for two dragging, intolerable days, and waited. She had +begun to ask herself—she had asked herself many times that day—if she +waited in vain. She would remain for the week, whatever happened, but +the torture of suspense had become such as she scarcely knew how to +endure. Something of the fever of restlessness that had tormented her at +Bombay was upon her now, but with it, subtly mingled, was a misery of +uncertainty that had not gripped her then. She was unspeakably lonely, +and at certain panic-stricken times unspeakably afraid; but whether it +was the possibility of his presence or the certainty of his continued +absence that appalled her, she could not have said.</p> + +<p>A fire burned with a cheery crackling in the room, throwing weird +shadows through the dimness. Yet she shivered from time to time as +though the chill of the London fog penetrated to her bones. Ah! what was +that? She startled violently at the sound of a low knock at the door, +then hastily commanded herself. It was only a waiter with the tea she +had ordered, of course. With her back to the door she bade him enter.</p> + +<p>But, though the door opened and someone entered, there came no jingle of +tea things. She did not turn her head. It was as though she could not. +She was as one turned to stone. She thought that the wild throbbing of +her heart would choke her.</p> + +<p>He came straight to her and stood beside her, not offering to touch so +much as her hand. The red firelight beat upwards on his face. She +ventured a single glance at him, and was oddly shocked by the look he +wore. Something of the red glow on the hearth shone back at her from his +eyes. She did not dare to look again. Yet when he spoke, though he +uttered no greeting, his voice was quite normal, wholly free from +agitation.</p> + +<p>"I should have been here sooner, but I was scouring London for an old +friend. I have found him at last, but, faith, I've had a chase. Do you +remember Jasper Caldicott, the parson who went out with us on the +<i>Scindia</i> eight years ago?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember him." She spoke with a strong effort. Her lips felt +stiff and cold.</p> + +<p>"He has a parish Whitechapel way," said Hone. "I only found him out this +morning. I wanted to bring him to see you."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" At his abrupt pause she moved slightly. "But he wouldn't come?"</p> + +<p>"He will come some day," said Hone. "But he had some scruple about +accompanying me there and then, as I wished. In fact, he wants you to +visit him instead."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" She almost whispered the word. She was holding the mantelpiece +with both hands to steady her trembling limbs.</p> + +<p>"Sure, there's nothing to alarm you at all," Hone said. "It'll soon be +over. He wants you to do him the honour of being married in his church +and there's a taxi below waiting to take you."</p> + +<p>"Now?" She turned and faced him, white to the lips.</p> + +<p>"Yes, now! By special licence." Sternly he made reply, and again she +felt as though the fire in his eyes scorched her.</p> + +<p>"And if I—refuse?" She stood up to her full height, flinging her fear +from her with a royal gesture that was almost a challenge.</p> + +<p>But Hone was ready for her. Hone, the gentle, the kind, the chivalrous, +stepped suddenly forth from his garden of virtues with level lance to +meet her.</p> + +<p>"By the powers," he said, and the words came from between his teeth, "I +wonder you dare to ask me that!"</p> + +<p>She laughed, but her laughter was slightly hysterical, and in an instant +he seized and pressed his advantage.</p> + +<p>"It is the end of the game," he grimly told her. "And you are beaten. +You told me once that you didn't always pay your debts. But, by Heaven, +you shall pay this one!"</p> + +<p>By sheer weight he beat down her resistance. Against her will, in spite +of her utmost effort, she gave way before him.</p> + +<p>A moment she stood in silence. Then, "So be it!" she said, and, turning, +left him.</p> + +<p>When she joined him again she was so thickly veiled that he could not +see her face. She preceded him without a word into the lift, and they +went down in utter silence to the waiting taxi. Then side by side +through the gloom as though they travelled through space, a myriad +lights twinkling all about them, the rush and roar of a universe in +their ears, but they two alone in an atmosphere that none other +breathed.</p> + +<p>It was a journey that neither ever afterwards calculated by time. It was +incalculable as the flight of a meteor. And when at last it came to an +end, for an instant neither moved.</p> + +<p>Then, as though emerging from a dream, Hone rose and alighted, and +turned to give his hand to his companion. A little group of ragged +urchins stood to view upon the muddy pavement. There was no other pomp +to attend the coming of a bride.</p> + +<p>Silently they entered a church that was lighted from end to end for +evening service. They passed up the aisle through a haze of fog. They +halted at the chancel steps....</p> + +<p>The knot of urchins had grown to a considerable crowd when they emerged. +Women and half-grown girls jostled each other for a glimpse of the +bride. But the utmost that any saw was a slender figure wearing a thick +veil that walked a little apart from the bridegroom, and entered the +waiting motor unassisted.</p> +<br /> + +<a name='Return_Game_XIV'></a><h3>XIV</h3> + +<p>Back once more in the room where the fire crackled, newly replenished, +and electric light revealed a shining tea-table, Hone turned to the +silent woman beside him.</p> + +<p>"Can I write a message? I promised to send one to Teddy as soon as we +were married."</p> + +<p>She pointed to the writing-table; and moved herself to the fire. There +she stood for a few seconds quite motionless, seeming to listen to the +scratching of his pen.</p> + +<p>He ceased to write, and turned in his chair. For a moment his eyes +rested upon her.</p> + +<p>"Take off your hat!" he said.</p> + +<p>She obeyed him in utter silence. Her hands were stiff and numb with +cold. She stooped, the firelight shining on her hair, and held them to +the blaze.</p> + +<p>Hone rose quietly, and came to her side. He held his message for her to +read, and she did so silently.</p> + +<p>"Just married. All well. Love.—PAT."</p> + +<p>"Will it do?" he said.</p> + +<p>She glanced up at him and shivered.</p> + +<p>"Is all well?" she asked, in a tone that demanded no answer.</p> + +<p>He made none, merely rang the bell and gave orders for the despatch of +the message.</p> + +<p>Then he came quietly back to her. They stood face to face. She was quite +erect, but pale to the lips. She stood before him as a prisoner awaiting +sentence, too proud to ask for mercy.</p> + +<p>Hone paused a few moments, as if to give her time to speak, to challenge +him, to make her defence, or to plead her weakness. Then, as she did +none of these things, he suddenly laid steady hands upon her, drew her +to him, and, bending, looked closely into her eyes.</p> + +<p>"And is there any reason at all why I should not take what is my own?" +he said.</p> + +<p>She did not resist him, but a long shiver went through her.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure it is worth the taking?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Quite sure," he answered quietly. "Shall I tell you how I know?"</p> + +<p>Her eyes sank before his.</p> + +<p>"You will do exactly as you choose."</p> + +<p>He was silent for an instant, still intently searching her white face. +Then:</p> + +<p>"Do you remember that night that you fainted in my arms?" he said. "Do +you remember opening your eyes in the boat? Do you know—can you +guess—what your eyes told me?"</p> + +<p>She was silent; only again from head to foot she shivered.</p> + +<p>He went on very quietly, as one absolutely sure of himself:</p> + +<p>"I looked into your soul that night, and I saw your secret hidden away +in its darkest corner. And I knew it had been there for a long, long +time. I knew from that moment that, hate me as you might, you were mine, +as I have been yours for so long as I have known you."</p> + +<p>She raised her eyes suddenly, stiffening in his grasp.</p> + +<p>"And you expect me to believe that of you?" she said, a tremor that was +not of fear, in her voice.</p> + +<p>"You do believe it," he answered with conviction.</p> + +<p>She raised her hands with something of her old imperious grace, and laid +them on his arms, freeing herself with a single gesture.</p> + +<p>"And all those years ago," she said, "when you made me believe you had +been trifling with me—"</p> + +<p>"I lied!" said Hone. "It was the hardest thing I ever did. But something +had to be done. I did it to save you suffering."</p> + +<p>She turned abruptly from him, moving blindly, till groping, she found +the mantelpiece, and leaned upon it. Then, her back to him, she spoke:</p> + +<p>"And you succeeded in breaking my heart."</p> + +<p>A sudden silence fell. Hone stood motionless, his hands fallen to his +sides. The dull roar of the streets beat up through the stillness like +the roar of a distant sea, bringing to mind a night long, long ago when +first he had met his little princess, when first the gay charm of her +personality had been cast upon him.</p> + +<p>With a resolute effort he spoke.</p> + +<p>"But you were scarcely more than a child," he said. "It—sure, it +couldn't have been as bad as that?"</p> + +<p>At the sound of the pain in his voice she slowly turned.</p> + +<p>"It was much worse than that," she said. "While it lasted, it was +intolerable. There were times when I thought it would drive me crazy. +But you—you were always there, and I think the sight of you kept me +sane. I hated you so. I had to show you that I didn't care."</p> + +<p>Again he heard in her voice that tremor that was not of fear.</p> + +<p>"As long as my husband lived," she went on, "I kept up the miserable +farce. As you know, we never loved each other. Then he died, and I found +I couldn't bear it any longer. There was no reason why I should. I went +away. I should never have seen you again, only Mrs. Chester would take +no refusal. And I had put it all away from me by that time. I felt it +did not greatly matter if we did meet. Nothing seemed of much importance +till that day I saw you on the polo ground, carrying all before +you—Achilles triumphant! That day I began to hate you again." A faint +smile drew the corners of her mouth. "I think you suspected it," she +said, "but your suspicions were soon lulled to rest. Did it never cross +your mind to wonder how we came to pair on that night of the river +picnic? I accused you of cheating, do you remember? And you were quite +indignant." A glimmer of the old gay mischief shone for a fleeting +second through her tragedy. "That was the first move in the game," she +said. "At least you never suspected me of that."</p> + +<p>"No; you had me there." There was a ring of sternness in Hone's voice. +"So that was the beginning?" he said.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"And it would have been the end also, if you would have suffered it. For +that very night I ceased to hate you." A faint flush tinged her pale +face. "I would have let you off," she said. "I didn't want to go on. But +you would not have it so. You came after me. You wouldn't leave me +alone, even though I warned you—I warned you that I wasn't worth your +devotion. And so"—again her voice trembled—"you had to have your +lesson after all."</p> + +<p>"And do you know what it has taught me?"</p> + +<p>Again there sounded in his voice that new mastery that had so strangely +overwhelmed her.</p> + +<p>She shrank a little as it reached her, and turned her face aside. "I can +guess," she said.</p> + +<p>"And is it good at guessing that you are?"</p> + +<p>He drew nearer to her with the words, but he did not offer to touch her.</p> + +<p>She stood motionless, her head bent lest he should see, and understand, +the piteous quivering of her lips. With immense effort she made reply:</p> + +<p>"It has taught you to hate and despise me, as—as I deserve."</p> + +<p>"Faith!" he said. "You think that—honestly now?"</p> + +<p>The mastery had all gone out of his voice. It was soft with that +caressing quality she knew of old—that tenderness, half-humorous, +half-persuasive, that had won her heart so long, so long ago. She did +not answer him—for she could not.</p> + +<p>He waited for the space of a score of seconds, standing close to her, +yet still not touching her, looking down in silence at the proud dark +head abased before him.</p> + +<p>At last: "It's myself that'll have to tell you, after all," he said +gently, "for sure it's the only way to make you understand. It's taught +me that we can both be winners, dear, if we play the game squarely, just +as we have both been losers all these weary years. But we will have to +be partners from this day forward. So just put your little hand in mine, +and it'll be all right, mavourneen! Pat'll understand!"</p> + +<p>She moved at that—moved sharply, convulsively, passionately. For a +moment her eyes met his; for a moment she seemed on the verge of amazed +questioning, even of vehement protest.</p> + +<p>But—perhaps the grey eyes that looked straight and steadfast into her +own made speech seem unnecessary—for she only whispered, "St. +Patrick!" in a voice that trembled and broke.</p> + +<p>And "Princess! My Princess!" was all he answered as he took her into his +arms.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr class="full" noshade> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 13553-h.txt or 13553-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/5/5/13553">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/5/5/13553</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/old/13553.txt b/old/13553.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1be0119 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13553.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10581 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Tidal Wave and Other Stories, by Ethel +May 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 Tidal Wave and Other Stories + +Author: Ethel May Dell + +Release Date: September 29, 2004 [eBook #13553] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Project Gutenberg Beginners Projects, +Jonathan Niehof, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading +Team + + + +THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES + +by + +ETHEL M. DELL + +Author of _The Lamp in the Desert_, _The Hundredth Chance_, +_Greatheart_, etc. + +1919 + + + + + + + +BY ETHEL M. DELL + + The Way of an Eagle + The Knave of Diamonds + The Rocks of Valpre + The Swindler + The Keeper of the Door + Bars of Iron + Rosa Mundi + The Hundredth Chance + The Safety Curtain + Greatheart + The Lamp in the Desert + The Tidal Wave + The Top of the World + The Obstacle Race + + + + +ACKNOWLEDGMENT + +Three stories in this volume, "The Magic Circle," "The Woman of his +Dream," and "The Return Game," were first published in The Red Magazine. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +THE TIDAL WAVE + +THE MAGIC CIRCLE + +THE LOOKER-ON + +THE SECOND FIDDLE + +THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM + +THE RETURN GAME + + + + + + +THE TIDAL WAVE + + + +CHAPTER I + +STILL WATERS + + +Rufus the Red sat on the edge of his boat with his hands clasped between +his knees, staring at nothing. His nets were spread to dry in the sun; +the morning's work was done. Most of the other men had lounged into +their cottages for the midday meal, but the massive red giant sitting on +the shore in the merciless heat of noon did not seem to be thinking of +physical needs. + +His eyes under their shaggy red brows were fixed with apparent +concentration upon his red, hairy legs. Now and then his bare toes +gripped the moist sand almost savagely, digging deep furrows; but for +the most part he sat in solid contemplation. + +There was only one other man within sight along that sunny stretch of +sand--a small, dark man with a shaggy, speckled beard and quick, +twinkling eyes. He was at work upon a tangled length of tarred rope, +pulling and twisting with much energy and deftness to straighten out the +coil, so that it leaped and writhed in his hands like a living thing. + +He whistled over the job cheerily and tunelessly, glancing now and again +with a keen, birdlike intelligence towards the motionless figure twenty +yards away that sat with bent head broiling in the sun. His task seemed +a hopeless one, but he tackled it as if he enjoyed it. His brown hands +worked with a will. He was plainly one to make the best of things, and +not to be lightly discouraged--a man of resolution, as the coxswain of +the Spear Point lifeboat needed to be. + +After ten minutes of unremitting toil he very suddenly ceased to whistle +and sent a brisk hail across the stretch of sand that intervened between +himself and the solitary fisherman on the edge of the boat. + +"Hi--Rufus--Rufus--ahoy!" + +The fiery red head turned in his direction without either alacrity or +interest. The fixed eyes came out of their trance-like study and took in +the blue-jerseyed, energetic figure that worked so actively at the +knotted hemp. There was something rather wonderful about those eyes. +They were of the deep, intense blue of a spirit-fed flame--the blue of +the ocean when a storm broods below the horizon. + +He made no verbal answer to the hail; only after a moment or two he got +slowly to his feet and began leisurely to cross the sand. + +The older man did not watch his progress. His brown, lined face was +bent again over his task. + +Rufus the Red drew near and paused. "Want anything?" + +He spoke from his chest, in a voice like a deep-toned bell. His arms +hung slack at his sides, but the muscles stood out on them like ropes. + +The coxswain of the lifeboat gave his head a brief, upward jerk without +looking at him. "That curly-topped chap staying at The Ship," he said, +"he came messing round after me this morning, wanted to know would I +take him out with the nets one day. I told him maybe you would." + +"What did you do that for?" said Rufus. + +The coxswain shot him a brief and humorous glance. "I always give you +the plums if I can, my boy," he said. "I said to him, 'Me and my son, +we're partners. Going out with him is just the same as going out with +me, and p'raps a bit better, for he's got the better boat.' So he +sheered off, and said maybe he'd look you up in the evening." + +"Maybe I shan't be there," commented Rufus. + +The coxswain chuckled, and lashed out an end of rope, narrowly missing +his son's brawny legs. "He's not such a soft one as he looks, that +chap," he observed. "Not by no manner of means. Do you know what +Columbine thinks of him?" + +"How should I know?" said Rufus. + +He stooped with an abrupt movement that had in it a hint of savagery, +and picked up the end of rope that lay jerking at his feet. + +"Tell you what, Adam," he said. "If that chap values his health he'll +keep clear of me and my boat." + +Everyone called the coxswain Adam, even his son and partner, Rufus the +Red. No two men could have formed a more striking contrast than they, +but their partnership was something more than a business relation. They +were friends--friends on a footing of equality, and had been such ever +since Rufus--the giant baby who had cost his mother her life--had first +closed his resolute fist upon his father's thumb. + +That was five-and-twenty years ago now, and for eighteen of those years +the two had dwelt alone together in their cottage on the cliff in +complete content. Then--seven years back--Adam the coxswain had +unexpectedly tired of his widowed state and taken to himself a second +wife. + +This was Mrs. Peck, of The Ship, a widow herself of some years' +standing, plump, amiable, prosperous, who in marrying Adam would have +gladly opened her doors to Adam's son also had the son been willing to +avail himself of her hospitality. + +But Rufus had preferred independence in the cottage of his birth, and in +this cottage he had lived alone since his father's defection. + +It was a dainty little cottage, perched in an angle of the cliff, well +apart from all the rest and looking straight down upon the great Spear +Point. He tended the strip of garden with scrupulous care, and it made +a bright spot of colour against the brown cliff-side. A rough path, +steep and winding, led up from the beach below, and about half-way up a +small gate, jealously padlocked in the owner's absence, guarded Rufus's +privacy. He never invited any one within that gate. Occasionally his +father would saunter up with his evening pipe and sit in the little +porch of his old home looking through the purple clematis flowers out to +sea while he exchanged a few commonplace remarks with his son, who never +broke his own silence unless he had something to say. But no other +visitor ever intruded there. + +Rufus had acquired the reputation of a hermit, and it kept all the rest +at bay. He had lived his own life for so long that solitude had grown +upon him as moss clings to a stone. He did not seem to feel the need of +human companionship. He lived apart. + +Sometimes, indeed, he would go down to The Ship in the evening and +lounge in the bar with the rest, but even there his solitude still +wrapped him round. He never expanded, however genial the atmosphere. + +The other men treated him with instinctive respect. He was powerful +enough to thrash any two of them, and no one cared to provoke him to +wrath. For Rufus in anger was a veritable mad bull. + +"Leave him alone! He's not safe!" was the general advice and warning of +his fellows, and none but Adam ever interfered with him. + +Just recently, however, Adam had begun to take a somewhat quizzical +interest in the welfare of his son. It had been an established custom +ever since his second marriage that Rufus should eat his Sunday dinner +at the family table down at The Ship. Mrs. Peck--Adam's wife was never +known by any other title, just as the man's own surname had dropped into +such disuse that few so much as knew what it was--had made an especial +point of this, and Rufus had never managed to invent any suitable excuse +for refusing. He never remained long after the meal was eaten. When all +the other fisher-lads were walking the cliffs with their own particular +lasses, Rufus was wont to trudge back to his hermitage and draw his +mantle of solitude about him once more. He had never walked with any +lass. Whether from shyness or surliness, he had held consistently aloof +from such frivolous pastimes. If a girl ever cast a saucy look his way +the brooding blue eyes never seemed aware of it. In speech with +womenkind he was always slow and half-reluctant. That his great +bull-like physique could by any means be an object of admiration was a +possibility that he never seemed to contemplate. In fact, he seemed +expectant of ridicule rather than appreciation. + +In his boyhood he had fought several tough fights with certain lads who +had dared to scoff at his red hair. Sam Jefferson, who lived down on +the quay, still bore the marks of one such battle in the absence of two +front teeth. But he did not take affront from womenkind. He looked over +their heads, and went his way in massive unconcern. + +But lately a change had come into his life--such a change as made Adam's +shrewd dark eyes twinkle whenever they glanced in his son's direction, +comprehending that the days of Rufus's tranquillity were ended. + +A witch had come to live at The Ship, such a witch as had never before +danced along the Spear Point sands. Her name was Maria Peck, and she was +the daughter of Mrs. Peck's late lamented husband's vagabond brother--"a +seafaring man and a wastrel if ever there was one," as Mrs. Peck was +often heard to declare. He had picked up with and eventually married a +Spanish pantomime girl up London way, so Mrs. Peck's information went, +and Maria had been the child of their union. + +No one called her Maria. Her mother had named her Columbine, and +Columbine she had become to all who knew her. Her mother dying when she +was only three, Columbine had been left to the sole care of her wastrel +father. And he, then a skipper of a small cargo steamer plying across +the North Sea, had placed her in the charge of a spinster aunt who kept +an infants' school in a little Kentish village near the coast. Here, up +to the age of seventeen, Columbine had lived and been educated; but the +old schoolmistress had worn out at last, and on her death-bed had sent +for Mrs. Peck, as being the girl's only remaining relative, her father +having drifted out of her ken long since. + +Mrs. Peck had nobly risen to the occasion. She had no daughter of her +own; she could do with a daughter. But when she saw Columbine she sucked +up her breath. + +"My, but she'll be a care!" was her verdict. + +"She don't know--how lovely she is," the dying woman had whispered. +"Don't tell her!" + +And Mrs. Peck had staunchly promised to keep the secret, so far as lay +in her power. + +That had happened six months before, and Columbine was out of mourning +now. She had come into the Spear Point community like a shy bird, a +little slip of a thing, upright as a dart, with a fashion of holding her +head that kept all familiarity at bay. But the shyness had all gone now. +The girlish immaturity was fast vanishing in soft curves and tender +lines. And the beauty of her!--the beauty of her was as the gold of a +summer morning breaking over a pearly sea. + +She was a creature of light and laughter, but there were in her odd +little streaks of unconsidered impulse that testified to a passionate +soul. She would flash into a temper over a mere trifle, and then in a +moment flash back into mirth and amiability. + +"You can't call her bad-tempered," said Mrs. Peck. "But she's +sharp--she's certainly sharp." + +"Ay, and she's got a will of her own," commented Adam. "But she's your +charge, missus, not mine. It's my belief you'll find her a bit of a +handful before you've done. But don't you ask me to interfere! It's none +o' my job." + +"Lor' bless you," chuckled Mrs. Peck, "I'd as soon think of asking +Rufus!" + +Adam grunted at this light reference to his son. "Rufus ain't such a +fool as he looks," he rejoined. + +"Lor' sakes! Whoever said he was?" protested the equable Mrs. Peck. +"I've a great respect for Rufus. It wasn't that I meant--not by any +manner o' means." + +What she had meant did not transpire, and Adam did not pursue the +subject to inquire. He also had a respect for Rufus. + +It was not long after that brief conversation that he began to notice a +change in his son. He made no overtures of friendship to the dainty +witch at The Ship, but he took the trouble to make himself extremely +respectable when he made his weekly appearance there. He kept his shag +of red hair severely cropped. He attired himself in navy serge, and wore +a collar. + +Adam's keen eyes took in the change and twinkled. Columbine's eyes +twinkled too. She had begun by being almost absurdly shy in the presence +of the young fisherman who sat so silently at his father's table, but +that phase had wholly passed away. She treated him now with a kindly +condescension, such as she might have bestowed upon a meek-souled dog. +All the other men--with the exception of Adam, whom she frankly +liked--she overlooked with the utmost indifference. They were plainly +lesser animals than dogs. + +"She'll look high," said Mrs. Peck. "The chaps here ain't none of her +sort." + +And again Adam grunted. + +He was fond of Columbine, took her out in his boat, spun yarns for her, +gave her such treasures from the sea as came his way--played, in fact, a +father's part, save that from the very outset he was very careful to +assume no authority over her. That responsibility was reserved for Mrs. +Peck, whose kindly personality made the bare idea seem absurd. + +And so to a very great extent Columbine had run wild. But the warm +responsiveness of her made her easy to manage as a general rule, and +Mrs. Peck's government was by no means exacting. + +"Thank goodness, she's not one to run after the men!" was her verdict +after the first six months of Columbine's sojourn. + +That the men would have run after her had they received the smallest +encouragement to do so was a fact that not one of them would have +disputed. But with dainty pride she kept them at a distance, and none +had so far attempted to cross the invisible boundary that she had so +decidedly laid down. + +And then with the summer weather had come the stranger--had come Montagu +Knight. Young, handsome, and self-assured, he strolled into The Ship one +day for tea, having tramped twelve miles along the coast from +Spearmouth, on the other side of the Point. And the next day he came +again to stay. + +He had been there for nearly three weeks now, and he seemed to have +every intention of remaining. He was an artist, and the sketches he made +were numerous and--like himself--full of decision. He came and went +among the fishermen's little thatched cottages, selecting here, refusing +there, exactly according to fancy. + +They had been inclined to resent his presence at first--it was certainly +no charitable impulse that moved Adam to call him "the curly-topped +chap"--but now they were getting used to him. For there was no +gainsaying the fact that he had a way with him, at least so far as the +women-folk of the community were concerned. + +He could keep Mrs. Peck chuckling for an hour at a time in the evening, +when the day's work was over. And Columbine--Columbine had a trill of +laughter in her voice whenever she spoke to him. He liked to hear her +play the guitar and sing soft songs in the twilight. Adam liked it too. +He was wont to say that it reminded him of a young blackbird learning to +sing. For Columbine was as yet very shy of her own talent. She kept in +the shallows, as it were, in dread of what the deep might hold. + +Knight was very kind to her, but he was never extravagant in his praise. +He was quite unlike any other man of her acquaintance. His touch was +always so sure. He never sought her out, though he was invariably quite +pleased to see her. The dainty barrier of pride that fenced her round +did not exist for him. She did not need to keep him at a distance. He +could be intimate without being familiar. + +And intimate he had become. There was no disputing it. From the first, +with his easy _savoir-faire_, he had waived ceremony, till at length +there was no ceremony left between them. He treated her like a lady. +What more could the most exacting demand? + +And yet Adam continued to call him "the curly-topped chap," and turned +him over to his son Rufus when he requested permission to go out in his +boat. + +And Rufus--Rufus turned with a gesture of disgust after the utterance of +his half-veiled threat, and spat with savage emphasis upon the sand. + +Adam uttered a chuckle that was not wholly unsympathetic, and began +deftly to coil the now disentangled rope. + +"Do you know what I'd do--if I was in your place?" he said. + +Rufus made a sound that was strictly noncommittal. + +Adam's quick eyes flung him a birdlike glance. "Why don't you come along +to The Ship and smoke a pipe with your old father of an evening?" he +said. "Once a week's not enough, not, that is, if you--" He broke off +suddenly, caught by a whistle that could not be resisted. + +Rufus was regarding the horizon with those brooding eyes of vivid blue. + +Abruptly Adam ceased to whistle. "When I was a young chap," he said, "I +didn't keep my courting for Sundays only. I didn't dress up, mind you. +That weren't my way. But I'd go along in my jersey and invite her out +for a bit of a cruise in the old boat. They likes a cruise, Rufus. You +try it, my boy! You try it!" + +The rope lay in an orderly coil at his feet, and he straightened +himself, rubbing his hands on his trousers. His son remained quite +motionless, his eyes still fixed as though he heard not. + +Adam stood up beside him, shrewdly alert. He had never before ventured +to utter words of counsel on this delicate subject. But having started, +he was minded to make a neat job of it. Adam had never been the man to +leave a thing half done. + +"Go to it, Rufus!" he said, dropping his voice confidentially. "Don't be +afraid to show your mettle! Don't be crowded out by that curly-topped +chap! You're worth a dozen of him. Just you let her know it, that's +all!" + +He dug his hands into his trousers pockets with the words, and turned to +go. + +Rufus moved then, moved abruptly as one coming out of a dream. His eyes +swooped down upon the lithe, active figure at his side. They held a +smile--a fiery smile that gleamed meteor-like and passed. + +"All right, Adam," he said in his deep-chested voice. + +And with a sidelong nod Adam wheeled and departed. He had done his +morning's work. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE PASSION-FLOWER + + +"Where's that Columbine?" said Mrs. Peck. + +A gay trill like the call of a blackbird in the dawning answered her. +Columbine, with a pink sun-bonnet over her black hair, was watering the +flowers in the little conservatory that led out of the drawing-room. She +had just come in from the garden, and a gorgeous red rose was pinned +upon her breast. Mrs. Peck stood in the doorway and watched her. + +The face above the red rose was so lovely that even her matter-of-fact +soul had to pause to admire. It was a perpetual wonder to her and a +perpetual fascination. The dark, unawakened eyes, the long, perfect +brows, the deep, rich colouring, all combined to make such a picture as +good Mrs. Peck realised to be superb. + +Again the pure contralto trill came from the red lips, and then, with a +sudden movement that had in it something of the grace of an alighting +bird, Columbine turned, swinging her empty can. + +"I've promised to take Mr. Knight to the Spear Point Caves by +moonlight," she said. "He's doing a moonlight study, and he doesn't +know the lie of the quicksand." + +"Sakes alive!" said Mrs. Peck. "What made him ask you? There's Adam +knows every inch of the shore better nor what you do." + +"He didn't ask," said Columbine. "I offered. And I know the shore just +as well as Adam does, Aunt Liza. Adam himself showed me the lie of the +quicksand long ago. I know it like my own hand." + +Mrs. Peck pursed her lips. "I doubt but what you'd better take Adam +along too," she said. "I wouldn't feel easy about you. And there won't +be any moonlight worth speaking of till after ten. It wouldn't do for +you to be traipsing about alone even with Mr. Knight--nice young +gentleman as he be--at that hour." + +"Aunt Liza, I don't traipse!" Momentary indignation shone in the +beautiful eyes and passed like a gleam of light. "Dear Aunt Liza," +laughed Columbine, "aren't you funny?" + +"Not a bit," maintained Mrs. Peck. "I'm just common-sensical, my dear. +And it ain't right--it never were right in my young day--to go walking +out alone with a man after bedtime." + +"A man, Aunt Liza! Oh, but a man! An artist isn't a man--at least, not +an ordinary man." There was a hint of earnestness in Columbine's tone, +notwithstanding its lightness. + +But Mrs. Peck remained firm. "It wouldn't make it right, not if he was +an angel from heaven," she declared. + +Columbine's gay laugh had in it that quality of youth that surmounts all +obstacles. "He's much safer than an angel," she protested, "because he +can't fly. Besides, the Spear Point Caves are all on this side of the +Point. You could watch us all the time if you'd a mind to." + +But Mrs. Peck did not laugh. "I'd rather you didn't go, my dear," she +said. "So let that be the end of it, there's a good girl!" + +"Oh, but I--" began Columbine, and broke off short. "Goodness, how you +made me jump!" she said instead. + +Rufus, his burly form completely blocking the doorway, was standing half +in and half out of the garden, looking at her. + +"Lawks!" said Mrs. Peck. "So you did me! Good evening, Rufus! Are you +wanting Adam?" + +"Not specially," said Rufus. He entered, with massive, lounging +movements. "I suppose I can come in," he remarked. + +"What a question!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck. + +Columbine said nothing. She picked up her empty watering-can and swung +it carelessly on one finger, hunting for invisible weeds in the +geranium-pots the while. + +Mrs. Peck was momentarily at a loss. She was not accustomed to +entertaining Rufus in his father's absence. + +"Have a glass of mulberry wine!" she suggested. + +"Columbine, run and fetch it, dear! It's in the right-hand corner, third +shelf, of the cupboard under the stairs. I'm sure you're very welcome," +she added to Rufus, "but you must excuse me, for I've got to see to Mr. +Knight's dinner." + +"That's all right, Mother," said Rufus. + +He always called her mother; it was a term of deference with him rather +than affection. But Mrs. Peck liked him for it. + +"Sit you down!" she said hospitably. "And mind you make yourself quite +at home! Columbine will look after you. You'll be staying to supper, I +hope?" + +"Thanks!" said Rufus. "I don't know. Where's Adam?" + +"He's chopping a bit of wood in the yard. He don't want any help. You'll +see him presently. You stop and have a chat with Columbine!" said Mrs. +Peck; and with a smile and nod she bustled stoutly away. + +When Columbine returned with the mulberry wine and a glass on a tray the +conservatory was empty. She set down her tray and paused. + +There was a faintly mutinous curve about her soft lips, a gleam of +dancing mischief in her eyes. + +In a moment a step sounded on the path outside, and Rufus reappeared. He +had been out to fill her watering-can, and he deposited it full at her +feet. + +"Don't put it there!" she said, with a touch of sharpness. "I don't want +to tumble over it, do I? Thank you for filling it, but you needn't have +troubled. I've done." + +"Then it'll come in for tomorrow," said Rufus, setting the can +deliberately in a corner. + +Columbine turned to pour out a glass of Mrs. Peck's mulberry wine. + +"Only one glass?" said Rufus. + +She threw him a quizzing smile over her shoulder. "Well, you don't want +two, do you?" + +"No," said Rufus slowly. "But I don't drink--alone." + +She gave a low, gurgling laugh. "You'll be saying you don't smoke alone +next. If you want someone to keep you company, I'd better fetch Adam." + +She turned round to him with the words, offering the glass on the tray. +Her eyes were lowered, but the upward curl of the black lashes somehow +conveyed the impression that she was peeping through them. The tilt of +the red lips, with the pearly teeth just showing in a smile, was of so +alluring an enchantment that the most level-headed of men could scarcely +have failed to pause and admire. + +Rufus paused so long that at last she lifted those glorious eyes of hers +in semi-scornful interrogation. + +"What's the matter?" she inquired. "Don't you want it?" + +He made an odd gesture as of one at a loss to explain himself. "Won't +you drink first?" he said, his voice very low. + +"No, thank you," said Columbine briskly. "I don't like it." + +"Then--I don't like it either," he said. + +"Don't be silly!" she said. "Of course you do! I know you do! Take it, +and don't be ridiculous!" + +But Rufus turned away with solid resolution. "No, thanks," he said. + +Columbine set down the tray again with a hint of exasperation. "You're +just like a child," she said severely. "A great, overgrown boy, that's +what you are!" + +"All right," said Rufus, propping himself against the door-post. + +"It's not all right. It's time you grew up." Columbine picked up the +full glass, and, carrying it daintily, advanced upon him. "I suppose I +shall have to make you take it like medicine," she remarked. + +She stood against the door-post, facing him, upright, slender, exquisite +as an opening flower. + +"Drink, puppy, drink!" she said flippantly, and elevated the glass +towards her guest's somewhat grim lips. + +The sombre blue eyes came down to her with something of a flash. And in +the same moment Rufus's great right hand disengaged itself from his +pocket and grasped the slim wrist of the hand that held the wine. + +"You drink--first!" said Rufus, and guided the glass with unmistakable +resolution to the provocative red lips. + +She jerked back her head to avoid it, but the doorpost against which she +stood checked the backward movement. Before she could prevent it the +wine was in her mouth. + +She flung up her free hand and would have knocked the glass away, but +Rufus could be prompt of action when he chose. He caught it from her and +drained it almost in the same movement. Not a drop was spilt between +them. He set down the glass on a shelf of the conservatory, and propped +himself up once more with his hands in his pockets. + +Columbine's face was burning red; her eyes literally blazed. Her whole +body vibrated as if strung on wires. "How--dare you?" she said, and +showed her white teeth with the words like an angry tigress. + +He looked down at her, a faint smile in his blue eyes. "But I don't +drink--alone," he said in such a tone of gentle explanation as he might +have used to a child. + +She stamped her foot. "I hate you!" she said. "I'll never forgive you!" + +"A joke's a joke," said Rufus, still in the tone of a mild instructor. + +"A joke!" Her wrath enwrapped her like a flame. "It was not a joke! It +was a coarse--and hateful--trick!" + +"All right," said Rufus, as one giving up a hopeless task. + +"It's not all right!" flashed Columbine. "You're a bounder, an oaf, a +brute! I--I'll never speak to you again, unless--you--you--apologise!" + +He was still looking down with that vague hint of amusement in his +eyes--the look of a man who watches the miniature fury of some tiny +creature. + +"I'll do anything you like," he said with slow indulgence. "I didn't +know you'd turn nasty, or I wouldn't have done it." + +"Nasty!" echoed Columbine. And then her wrath went suddenly into a +superb gust of scorn. "Oh, you--you are beyond words!" she said. "You +had better get along to the bar and drink there. You'll find your own +kind there to drink with." + +"I'd rather drink with you," said Rufus. + +She uttered a laugh that was tremulous with anger. "You've done it for +the first and last time, my man," she said. + +With the words she turned like a darting, indignant bird, and left him. + +Someone was entering the drawing-room from the hall with a careless, +melodious whistle--a whistle that ended on a note of surprise as +Columbine sped through the room. The whistler--a tall, bronzed young man +in white flannels--stopped short to regard her. + +His eyes were grey and wary under absolutely level brows. His hair was +dark, with an inclination--sternly repressed--to waviness above the +forehead. He made a decidedly pleasant picture, as even Adam could not +have denied. + +Columbine also checked herself at sight of him, but the red blood was +throbbing at her temples. There was no hiding her agitation. + +"You seem in a hurry," remarked Knight. "I hope there is nothing wrong." + +His chin was modelled on firm lines, but there was a very distinct cleft +in it that imparted to him the look of one who could smile at most +things. His words were kindly, but they did not hold any very deep +concern. + +Columbine came to a stand, gripping the back of a chair to steady +herself. "Oh, I--I have been--insulted!" she panted. + +The straight brows went up a little; the man himself stiffened slightly. +Without further words he moved across to the door into the conservatory +and looked through it. He was in time to see Rufus's great, lounging +figure sauntering away in the direction of the wood-yard. + +Knight stood a moment or two and watched him, then quietly turned and +rejoined the girl. + +She was still leaning upon the chair, but she was gradually recovering +her self-control. As he drew near she made a slight movement as if to +resume her interrupted flight. But some other impulse intervened, and +she remained where she was. + +Knight came up and stood beside her. "What has he been doing to annoy +you?" he asked. + +She made a small, vehement gesture of disgust. "Oh, we won't talk of +him. He is an oaf. I dare say he doesn't know any better, but he'll +never have a chance of doing it again. I don't mix with the riff-raff." + +"He's Adam's son, isn't he?" questioned Knight. + +She nodded. "Yes, the great, hulking lubber! Adam's all right. I like +Adam. But Rufus--well, Rufus is a bounder, and I'll never have anything +more to say to him." + +"I think you are quite right to hold your head up above these fisher +fellows," remarked Knight, his grey eyes watching her with an appraising +expression. "They are as much out of place near you as a bed of bindweed +would be in the neighbourhood of a passion-flower." His glance took in +her still panting bosom. "I think you are something of a +passion-flower," he said, faintly smiling. "I wonder at any man daring +to risk offending you." + +Columbine stood up with the free movement of a disdainful princess. "Oh, +he's just a lout," she said. "He doesn't know any better. It isn't as if +you had done it." + +"That would have been different, would it?" said Knight. + +She smiled, but a sombre light still shone in her eyes. "Quite +different," she said with simplicity. "You see, you're a gentleman. +And--gentlemen--don't do unpleasant things like that." + +He laughed a little. "You make me feel quite nervous. What a shocking +thing it would be if I ever did anything to forfeit your good opinion." + +"You couldn't," said Columbine. + +"Couldn't!" He repeated the word with an odd inflection. + +"It wouldn't be you," she explained with the utmost gravity, as one +stating an irrefutable fact. + +"Thank you," said Knight. + +"Oh, it's not a compliment," she returned. "It's just the truth. There +are some people--a few people--that one knows one can trust through and +through. And you are one of them, that's all." + +"Is that so?" said Knight. "You know, that's rather--a colossal +thing--to say of any one." + +"Then you are colossal," said Columbine, smiling more freely. + +Knight turned aside, and picked up the sketch-book he had laid upon the +table on entering. "Are you sure you are not rash?" he said, rather in +the tone of one making a remark than asking a question. + +"Fairly sure," said Columbine. + +She followed him. Perhaps he had foreseen that she would. She stood by +his side. + +"May I see the latest?" she asked. + +He opened the book and showed her a blank page. "That is the latest," he +said. + +She looked at him interrogatively. + +"I am waiting for my--inspiration," he said. + +"I hope you will find it soon," she said. + +He answered her with steady conviction. "I shall find it tonight by +moonlight at the Spear Point Rock." + +Her face clouded a little. "I believe Adam is going to take you," she +said. + +"What?" said Knight. "You are never going to let me down?" + +She smiled with a touch of irony. "It was the Spear Point you wanted," +she reminded him. + +"And you," said Knight, "to show the way." + +Something in his tone arrested her. Her beautiful eyes sank suddenly to +the blank page he held. "Adam can do that--as well as I can," she said. + +"But you said you would," said Knight. His voice was low; he was looking +full at her. He saw the rich colour rising in her cheeks. "What is it?" +he said. "Won't they let you?" + +She raised her head abruptly, proudly. "I please myself," she said. "No +one has the ordering of me." + +His grey eyes shone a little. "Then it pleases you--to let me down?" he +questioned. + +Her look flashed suddenly up to his. She saw his expression and laughed. +"I didn't think you'd care," she said. "Adam knows the lie of the +quicksand. That's all you really want." + +"Oh, pardon me!" said Knight. "You are quite wrong, if you imagine that +I am indifferent as to who goes with me. Inspiration won't burn in a +cold place." + +She dropped her lids, still looking at him. "Isn't Adam inspiring?" she +asked. + +"He couldn't furnish the particular sort of inspiration I am needing +for my moonlight picture," said Knight. + +He spoke deliberately, but his brows were slightly drawn, belying the +coolness of his speech. + +"What is the sort of inspiration you are wanting?" asked Columbine. + +He smiled with a hint of provocation. "I'll tell you that when we get +there." + +Her answering smile was infinitely more provocative than his. "That will +be very interesting," she said. + +Knight closed his sketch-book. "I am glad to know," he said +thoughtfully, "that you please yourself, Miss Columbine. In doing so, +you have the happy knack of pleasing--others." + +He made her a slight, courtly bow, and turned away. + +He left her still standing at the table, looking after him with +perplexity and gathering resolution in her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +THE MINOTAUR + + +"Not stopping to supper even? Well, you must be a darned looney!" + +Adam sat down astride his wood-block with the words, and looked up at +his son with the aggressive expression of a Scotch terrier daring a +Newfoundland. + +Rufus, with his hands in his pockets, leaned against the woodshed. He +made no reply of any sort to his father's brisk observation. Obviously +it made not the faintest impression upon him. + +After a moment or two he spoke, his pipe in the corner of his mouth. "If +that chap bathes off the Spear Point rocks when the tide's at the spring +he'll get into difficulties." + +"Who says he does?" demanded Adam. + +Rufus jerked his head. "I saw him--from my place--this afternoon. Tide +was going down, or the current would have caught him. Better warn him." + +"I did," responded Adam sharply. "Warned him long ago. Warned him of the +quicksand, too." + +Rufus grunted. "Then he's only himself to thank. Or maybe he doesn't +know a spring tide from a neap." + +"Oh, he's not such a fool as that," said Adam. + +Rufus grunted once again, and relapsed into silence. + +It was at this point that Mrs. Peck showed her portly person at the back +door of The Ship. + +"Why, Rufus," she said, "I thought you was in the front with Columbine." + +Rufus stood up with the deference that he never omitted to pay to Adam's +wife. "So I was," he said. "I came along here after to talk to Adam." + +Mrs. Peck's round eyes gave him a searching look. "Did you have your +mulberry wine?" she asked. + +"Yes, Mother." + +"You were mighty quick about it," commented Mrs. Peck. + +"Yes, he's in a hurry," said Adam, with one of his birdlike glances. +"Can't stop for anything, missus. Wants to get back to his supper." + +"I never!" said Mrs. Peck. "You aren't in that hurry, Rufus, surely! +Just as I was going to ask you to do something to oblige me, too!" + +"What's that?" said Rufus. + +Mrs. Peck descended into the yard with a hint of mystery. "Well, just +this," she said confidentially. "That there Mr. Knight, he's a very nice +young gentleman; but he's an artist, and you know, artists don't look at +things like ordinary folk. He wants to get a moonlight picture of the +Spear Point, and he's got our Columbine to say she'll take him there +tonight. Well, now, I don't think it's right, and I told her so. But, of +course, she come out as pat as anything with him being an artist and +different-like from the rest. Still, I said as I'd rather she didn't, +and Adam had better take him, because of the quicksand, you know. It +wouldn't be hardly safe to let him go alone. He's a bit foolhardy too. +But Adam's not so young as you, Rufus, and he was out before sunrise. So +I thought as how maybe you'd step into the breach and take Mr. Knight +along. Come, you won't refuse?" + +She spoke the last words coaxingly, aware of a certain hardening of the +young fisherman's rugged face. + +Adam had got off his chopping-block, and was listening with pursed lips +and something of the expression of a terrier at a rat-hole. + +"Yes, you go, Rufus!" he said, as Mrs. Peck paused. "You show him round! +I'd like him to know you." + +"What for?" said Rufus. + +Adam contorted one side of his face into something that was between a +wink and a grin. "Do you good to go into society," he said. "That's all +right, missus, he'll go. Better go and ask Mr. Knight what time he wants +to start." + +"Wait a bit!" commanded Rufus. + +Mrs. Peck waited. She knew that her stepson was as slow of speech as +his father was prompt, but she thought none the less of him for that. +Rufus was solid, and she respected solid men. + +"It comes to this," said Rufus, speaking ponderously. "I'll go if I'm +wanted. But I'm not one for shoving myself in otherwise. Maybe the chap +won't be so keen himself when he knows he can't have Columbine to go +with him. Find that out first!" + +Mrs. Peck looked at him with an approving smile. "Lor', Rufus! You've +got some sense," she said. "But I wonder how Columbine will take it if I +says anything to Mr. Knight behind her back." + +Adam chuckled. "Columbine in a tantrum is one of the best sights I +know," he remarked. + +"Ah! She don't visit her tantrums on you," rejoined his wife. "You can +afford to smile." + +"And I does," said Adam. + +Rufus turned away. There was no smile on his countenance. He said +nothing, but there was that in his demeanour that clearly indicated that +he personally was neither amused nor disconcerted by the tantrums of +Columbine. + +He followed Mrs. Peck indoors, and sat down in the kitchen to await +developments. And Adam, whistling cheerfully, strolled to the bar. + +Mrs. Peck had to dish up the visitor's dinner before she could tackle +him upon the subject in hand. She trotted to and fro upon her task, too +intent for further speech with Rufus, who sat in unbroken silence, +gazing steadily before him with a Sphinx-like immobility that made of +him an impressive figure. + +The beefsteak was already in the dish, and Mrs. Peck was in the act of +pouring the gravy over it when there sounded a light step on the stone +of the passage and Columbine entered. + +She had removed her sun-bonnet and donned a dainty little apron. The +soft dark hair clustered tenderly about her temples. + +"Oh, Aunt Liza," she said, "if I didn't go and forget that Sally was out +tonight! I'm sorry I'm too late to help with the dinner. But I'll take +it in." + +She caught her breath at sight of the massive, silent figure seated +against the wall, but instantly recovered her composure and passed it by +with an upward tilt of the chin. + +"You needn't trouble yourself to do that, my dear," rejoined Mrs. Peck, +with a touch of tartness. "I'll wait on Mr. Knight myself. You can lay +the supper in the parlour if you've a mind to be useful. There'll be +four to lay for." + +Columbine turned with something of a pounce. "No, there won't! There'll +be three," she said. "If that--oaf--stays to supper, I go without!" + +"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Peck. + +Rufus came out of his silence. "That's all right. I'm not staying to +supper," he said. + +"But--lor' sakes!--what's the matter?" questioned Mrs. Peck. "Have you +two been quarrelling?" + +"No, we haven't!" flashed Columbine. "I wouldn't stoop. But I'm not +going to sit down to supper with a man who hasn't learnt manners. I'd +sooner go without--much." + +Rufus remained absolutely unmoved. He made no attempt at +self-justification, though Mrs. Peck was staring from one to the other +in mystified interrogation. + +Columbine turned swiftly and caught up a cover for the savoury dish that +steamed on the table. "You'd better let me take this in before it gets +cold," she said. + +"No; put it on the rack!" commanded Mrs. Peck. "There's a drop of soup +to go in first. And, Columbine, my dear, I don't think it's right of you +to go losing your temper that way. Rufus is Adam's son, remember, and +you can't refuse to sit at table with him." + +"Leave her alone, Mother!" For the second time Rufus intervened. "I've +offended her. My mistake. I'll know better next time." + +His deep voice was wholly devoid of humour. It was, in fact, devoid of +any species of emotion whatever. Yet, oddly enough, the anger died out +of Columbine's face as she heard it. She turned to the tablecloth-press +and began to unwind it in silence. + +Mrs. Peck sniffed, and took up the soup-tureen. + +As she waddled out of the kitchen Columbine withdrew the parlour +tablecloth and turned round. + +"If you're really sorry," she said, "I'll forgive you." + +Rufus regarded her for several seconds in silence, a slow smile dawning +in his eyes. "Thank you," he said finally. + +"You are sorry then?" insisted Columbine. + +He shook his great bull-head, the smile still in his eyes. "I wouldn't +have missed it for anything," he said. + +There was no perceptible familiarity in the remark, and Columbine, after +brief consideration, decided to dismiss it without discussion. "Well, +let it be a lesson to you, and don't you ever do such a thing again!" +she said severely. "For I won't have you or any man lay hands on me--not +even in fun." + +"All right," said Rufus. + +He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as if to remove all cause of +offence, and was rewarded by a swift smile from Columbine. The storm had +blown away. + +"I'll lay for four after all," she said, as she whisked out of the room. + +Rufus was still seated in solitary state in the kitchen when Mrs. Peck +returned from the little coffee-room where she had been serving her +guest. + +She peered round with caution ere she came close to him and spoke. + +"It's as you thought. He don't want to go with either you or Adam." + +Rufus's face remained unchanged; it was slightly bovine of expression as +he received the news. "We'll both get to bed in good time then," was his +comment. + +Mrs. Peck's smooth brow drew in momentary exasperation. She had expected +something more dramatic than this. + +"I'm glad you're so easily satisfied," she said. "But let me tell +you--I'm not!" + +She paused to see if this piece of information would take more effect +than the first, but again Rufus proved a disappointment. Neither by word +nor look did he express any sympathy. + +Mrs. Peck continued, it being contrary to her nature to leave anything +to the imagination of her hearers. "If he'd been content to go with one +of you, I wouldn't have given it another thought. Goodness knows, I'm +not of a suspicious turn. But the moment I mention the matter, he turns +round with his sweetest smile and he says, 'Oh, don't you trouble, Mrs. +Peck!' he says. 'I quite understand. Miss Columbine explained it all, +and I quite see your point. It ought to have occurred to me sooner,' he +says, smiling with them nice teeth of his, 'but, if you'll believe me, +it didn't.' And then, when I suggested maybe he'd like you or Adam to go +with him instead, it was, 'No, no, Mrs. Peck. I wouldn't ask it of 'em. +I couldn't drag any man at the chariot-wheels of Art. If I did, she +would see to it that the chariot was empty.' He most always talks like +that," ended Mrs. Peck in an aggrieved tone. "He's that airy in his +ways." + +A sudden trill of laughter from the doorway caused her to straighten +herself sharply and trot to the fireplace with a guilty air. + +Columbine entered, light of foot, her eyes brimful of mirth. "You're +caught, Aunt Liza! Yes, you're caught!" she commented ungenerously. "I +know exactly what you were saying. Shall I tell you? No, p'raps I'd +better not. I'll tell you what you looked like instead, shall I? You +looked exactly like that funny old speckled hen in the yard who always +clucks such a lot. And Rufus"--she threw him a merry glance from which +all resentment had wholly departed--"Rufus looks--and is--just like a +great red ox." + +"Don't you be pert!" said Mrs. Peck, stooping stoutly over the fire. +"Get a duster and dust them plates!" + +Columbine laughed again with her chin in the air. She found a duster and +occupied herself as desired. + +Her eyes were upon her work. Plainly she was not looking at Rufus, not +apparently thinking of him. But--very suddenly--without changing her +attitude, she flashed him a swift glance. He was looking straight at +her, and in his blue eyes was an intense, deep glow as of flaming +spirit. + +Columbine's look shot away from him with the rapidity of a swallow on +the wing. The colour deepened in her cheeks. + +"P'raps he's almost more like a prize bull," she said meditatively. +"Perhaps he's a Minotaur, Aunt Liza. Do you think he is?" + +"My dear, I don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Peck, with +a touch of acidity. + +Columbine laughed a little. "Do you know, Rufus?" she said. + +She did not look at him with the question; there was a quivering dimple +in her red cheek that came and went. + +"I'd like to know," said Rufus with simplicity. + +"Would you, really?" Columbine polished the last plate vigorously and +set it down. "The Minotaur," she said, in the tone of a schoolmistress +delivering a lecture, "was a monster, half-bull, half-man, who lived in +a place like the Spear Point Caves, and devoured young men and maidens. +You live nearer to the Caves than any one else, don't you, Rufus?" + +Again she ventured a darting glance at him. His look was still upon her, +but its fiery quality was less apparent. He met the challenge with his +slow, indulgent smile. + +"Yes, I live there. I don't devour anybody. I'm not--that sort of +monster." + +Columbine shook her head. "I'm not so sure of that," she said. "But I +dare say you'd tame." + +"P'raps you'd like to do it," suggested Rufus. + +It was his first direct overture, and Columbine, who had angled for it, +experienced a thrill of triumph. But she was swift to mask her +satisfaction. She tossed her head, and turned: "Oh, I've no time to +waste that way," she said. "You must do your own taming, Mr. Minotaur. +When you're quite civilised, p'raps I'll talk to you." + +She was gone with the words, carrying her plates with her. + +"She's a deal too pert," observed Mrs. Peck to the saucepan she was +stirring. "It's my belief now that that Mr. Knight's been putting ideas +into her head. She's getting wild; that's what she is." + +Knowing Rufus, she expected no response, and for several seconds none +came. + +Then to her surprise she heard his voice, deep and sonorous as the +bell-buoy that was moored by the Spear Point Reef. + +"Maybe she'd tame," he said. + +And "Goodness gracious unto me!" said Mrs. Peck, as she lifted her +saucepan off the fire. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE RISING TIDE + + +A long dazzling pathway of moonlight stretched over the sea, starting +from the horizon, ending at the great jutting promontory of the Spear +Point. The moon was yet three nights from the full. The tide was rising, +but it would not be high for another two hours. + +The breakers ran in, one behind the other, foaming over the hidden +rocks, splashing wildly against the grim wall of granite that stood +sharp-edged to withstand them. It was curved like a scimitar, that rock, +and within its curve there slept, when the tide was low, a pool. When +the tide rose the waters raged and thundered all around the rock, but +when it sank again the still, deep pool remained, unruffled as a +mountain tarn and as full of mystery. + +Over a tumble of lesser rocks that bounded the pool to shoreward the +wary might find a path to the Spear Point Caves; but the path was +difficult, and there were few who had ever attempted it. For the +quicksand lay like a golden barrier between the outer beach and the +rocks that led thither. + +It was an awesome spot. Many a splinter of wreckage had been tossed in +over the Spear Point as though flung in sport from a giant hand. And +when the water was high there came a hollow groaning from the inner +caves as though imprisoned spirits languished there. + +But on that night of magic moonlight the only sound was the murmurous +splash of the rising waves as they met the first grim rocks of the +Point. Presently they would dash in thunder round the granite blade, and +the sleeping pool would be turned to a smother of foam. + +On the edge of the pool a woman's figure clad in white stood balanced +with outstretched arms. So still was the water, so splendid the +moonlight, that the whole of her light form was mirrored there--a +perfect image of nymph-like grace. She sang a soft, low, trilling song +like the song of a blackbird awaking to the dawn. + +"By Jupiter!" Knight murmured to himself. "If I could get her only +once--only once--as--she--is!" + +The gleam of the hunter was in his look. He stood on the rocks some +yards away from her, gazing with eyes half-shut. + +Suddenly she turned herself, and across the intervening space her voice +came to him, half-mocking, half-alluring, "Have you found your +inspiration yet?" + +"Not yet," he said. + +She raised her shoulders with a humorous gesture, "Hasn't the magic +begun to work?" + +He came towards her, moving slowly and with caution. "Don't move!" he +said. + +She waited for him on the edge of the pool. There was laughter in her +eyes, laughter and the sublime daring of innocence. + +He reached her. They stood together on the same flat rock. He bent to +her, in his eyes the burning worship of beauty. + +"Columbine!" he said. "Witch! Enchantress! Queen!" + +The red blood raced into her face. Her eyes shone into his with a sudden +glory--the glory of the awaking soul. But the woman-instinct in her +checked the first quick impulse of surrender. + +She made a little motion away from him. She laughed and veiled her eyes +from the fiery adoration that flamed upon her. "The magic is +working--evidently," she said. "What a good thing I brought you here!" + +"Yes; it is a good thing," he said, and in his voice she heard the deep +note of a mastery that would not be denied. "Do you know what you have +done to me, you goddess? You have opened the eyes of my heart. I am +dazzled. I am blinded. I believe I am possessed. When I paint my picture +--it will be such as the world has never seen." + +"Hadn't you better begin it?" whispered Columbine. + +He held out his hand to her--a hand that was not wholly steady. "Not +yet," he said. "The vision is too near, too wonderful. How shall I paint +the rapture that I have hardly yet dared to contemplate? Columbine!" + +His voice suddenly pleaded, and as though in answer she laid her hand in +his. But she did not raise her eyes. She palpitated from head to foot +like a captured bird. + +"You are not--afraid?" he whispered. + +"I don't know," she whispered back. "Not of you--not of you!" + +"Ah!" he said. "We are caught in the same net. There is nothing terrible +in that. The same magic is working in us both. Let it work, dear! We +understand each other. Why should there be anything to fear?" + +But still she did not raise her eyes, and still she trembled in his +hold. "I never thought," she faltered, "never dreamed. Oh, is it true?" + +"True that you are the most beautiful creature that this earth +contains?" he said, and his voice throbbed upon the words. "True that +the very sight of you turns my blood to fire? Aphrodite, goddess and +sorceress, do you doubt that? Wait till you see my picture, and then +ask! I have found my inspiration tonight--yes, I have found it--but it +is so immense--so overwhelming--that I cannot grasp it yet. Tonight, +dear, just for tonight--let me worship at your feet! This madness must +have its way. In the morning I shall be sane again. Tonight--tonight I +tread Olympus with the Immortals." + +He was drawing her towards him, and Columbine--Columbine, who suffered +no man's hand upon her--was yielding slowly, but inevitably, to the +persuasion of his touch. Just at the last, indeed, she made a small, +wholly futile attempt to free herself; but the moment she did so his +hold became the hold of the conqueror, and with a faint laugh she flung +aside the instinct that had prompted it. The next instant, freely and +splendidly, she raised her downcast face and abandoned herself utterly +to him. + +To give without stint was the impulse of her passionate, Southern +nature, and she gave freely, royally, that night. The magic that ran in +the veins of both was too compelling to be resisted. The girl, with her +half-awakened soul, the man, with his fiery thirst for beauty, were +caught in the great current that sweeps like a tidal wave around the +world, and it bore them swiftly, swiftly, whither neither he in his +restlessness nor she in her in experience realised or cared. If the +sound of the breakers came to them from afar they heeded it not. They +were too far away to matter as yet, and Knight had steered a safe course +for himself in troubled seas before. As for Columbine, she knew only the +rapture of love triumphant, and tasted perfect safety in the holding of +her lover's arms. He had won her with scarcely a struggle, and she +gloried with an ecstasy that was in its way sublime in the completeness +of her surrender. On such a night as that it seemed to her that the +whole world lay at her feet, and she knew no fear. + +The still pool slept in the moonlight, a lake of silver, unspeakably +calm. Beyond the outstretched blade of rock the great waters rose and +rose. The murmur of them had swelled to a roar. The splash of them +mounted higher and ever higher. Suddenly a crest of foam gleamed like a +tongue of lightning at the point of the curve. The pool stirred as if +awakening. The moonlight on its surface was shivered in a thousand +ripples. They broke in a succession of tiny wavelets against the +encircling rocks. + +Another silver crest appeared, burst in thunder, and in a moment the +pool was flooded with tossing water. + +"Do you see that?" whispered Columbine. "It is like my life." + +They stood together under the frowning cliff and watched the wonder of +the pool's awakening. Knight's arm held her close pressed to his side. +He could feel the beating of her heart. She stood with her face upturned +to his and all the glory of love's surrender shining in her eyes. + +He caught his breath as he looked at her. He stooped and kissed the red, +red lips that gave so generously. "Is my love as the rising tide to you, +sweet?" he murmured. + +"It is more!" she answered passionately. "It is more! It is the tidal +wave that comes so seldom--maybe only once in a lifetime--and carries +all before it." + +He pressed her closer. "My passion-flower!" he said. "My queen!" + +He kissed the throbbing whiteness of her throat, the loose clusters of +her hair. He laid his hot face against her neck, and held it so, not +breathing. Her arms stretched upwards, clasping him. She was +panting--panting as one in deep waters. + +"I love you! I love you!" she whispered tensely. "Oh, how I love you!" + +Again there came the thunder of the surf. The waters of the pool leapt +as if a giant hand had churned them. The foam from beyond the reef +overspread them like snow. The whole world became full of the sound of +surging waters. + +Knight opened his eyes. "The tide is coming up fast," he said. "We must +be getting back." + +She clung closer to him. "I could die with you on a night like this," +she said. + +He crushed her to his heart. "Ah, goddess!" he said. "You couldn't die! +But I am only mortal, and the tide won't wait." + +Again the swirling breakers swept around the Point. Reluctantly she came +to earth. The pool had become a seething whirl of water. + +"Yes," she said, "we must go, and quickly--quickly! It rises so fast +here." + +Sure-footed as a doe over the slippery rocks, she led the way. They left +the magic place and the dazzling tumble of moonlit water, the dark +caves, the enchanted strand. Progress was not easy, but Knight had been +that way before, though only by day. He followed his guide closely, and +when presently they emerged upon level sand, he overtook and walked +beside her. + +She slipped her hand into his. "It's the lie of the quicksand that's +puzzling," she said, "if you don't know it well." + +"I am in thy hands, O Queen," he made light reply. "Lead me whither thou +wilt!" + +She laughed--a low, sweet laugh of sheer happiness. "And if I lead you +astray?" + +"I would follow you down to the nethermost millstone," he vowed. + +Her hand tightened upon his. She paused a moment, looking out over the +stretch of sand that intervened between them and the little +fishing-quay. He had safely negotiated that stretch of sand by daylight, +though even then it had needed an alert eye to detect that slight +ooziness of surface that denoted the presence of the sea-swamp. But by +night, even in that brilliant moonlight, it was barely perceptible. +Columbine herself did not trust to appearances. She had learnt the way +from Adam as a child learns a lesson by heart. He had taught her to know +the danger-spot by the shape of the cliffs above it. + +After a very brief pause to take her bearings, she moved forward with +absolute assurance. Knight accompanied her with unquestioning +confidence. His faith in his own luck was as profound as his faith in +the girl at his side. And the tumult in his veins that night was such as +to make him insensible of danger. The roar of the rising tide +exhilarated him. He walked with the stride of a conqueror, free and +unafraid, his face to the sea. + +Unerringly she led him, but she did not speak again until they had made +the passage and the treacherous morass of sand was left behind. + +Then, with a deep breath, she stopped. "Now we are safe!" + +"Weren't we safe before?" he asked carelessly. + +Her eyes sought his; she gave a little shiver. "Oh, are we ever safe?" +she said. "Especially when we are happy? That quicksand makes one +think." + +"Never spoil the present by thinking of the future!" said Knight +sententiously. + +She took him seriously. "I don't. I want to keep the present just as it +is--just as it is. I would like to stay with you here for ever and ever, +but in another half-hour--in less--the tide will be racing over this +very spot, and we shall be gone." Her voice vibrated; she cast a glance +behind. "One false step," she said, "too sharp a turn, too wide a curve, +and we'd have been in the quicksand! It's like that all over. It's life, +and it's full of danger, whichever way we turn." + +He looked at her curiously. "Why, what has come to you?" he said. + +She caught her breath in a sound that was like a sob. "I don't know," +she said. "It's being so madly happy that has frightened me. It can't +last. It never does last." + +He smiled upon her philosophically. "Then let us make the most of it +while it does!" he said. "Tonight will pass, but--don't forget--there is +tomorrow." + +She answered him feverishly. "The moon may not shine tomorrow." + +He laughed, drawing her to him. "I can do without the moon, queen of my +heart." + +She went into his arms, but she was trembling. "I feel--somehow--as if +someone were watching us," she whispered. + +"Exactly my own idea," he said. "The moon is a bit too intrusive +tonight. I shan't weep if there are a few clouds tomorrow." + +She laughed a little dubiously. "We couldn't cross the quicksand if the +light were bad." + +"We could get down to the Point by the cliff-path," he pointed out. "I +went that way only this afternoon." + +"Ah! But it is very steep, and it passes Rufus's cottage," she murmured. + +"What of it?" he said indifferently. "I'm sure he sleeps like a log." + +She turned from the subject. "Besides, you must have moonlight for your +picture. And the moon won't last." + +"My picture!" He pressed her suddenly closer. "Do you know what my +picture is going to be?" + +"Tell me!" she whispered. + +"Shall I?" He turned gently her face up to his own. "Shall I? Dare I?" + +She opened her eyes wide--those glorious, trusting eyes. "But why +should you be afraid to tell me?" + +He laughed again softly, and kissed her lips. "I will make a rough +sketch in the morning and show it you. It won't be a study--only an +idea. You are going to pose for the study." + +"I?" she said, half-startled. + +"You--yes, you!" His eyes looked deeply into hers. "Haven't you realised +yet that you are my inspiration?" he said. "It is going to be the +picture of my life--'Aphrodite the Beautiful!'" + +She quivered afresh at his words. "Am I really--so beautiful?" she +faltered. "Would you think so if--if you didn't love me?" + +"Would I have loved you if you weren't?" laughed Knight. "My darling, +you are exquisite as a passion-flower grown in Paradise. To worship you +is as natural to me as breathing. You are heaven on earth to me." + +"You love me--because of that?" + +"I love you," he answered, "soul and body, because you are you. There is +no other reason, heart of my heart. When my picture of pictures is +painted, then--perhaps--you will see yourself as I see you--and +understand." + +She uttered a quick sigh, clinging to him with a hold that was almost +convulsive. "Ah, yes! To see myself with your eyes! I want that. I shall +know then--how much you love me." + +"Will you? But will you?" he said, softly derisive. "You will have to +show me yourself and your love--all there is of it--before you can do +that." + +She lifted her head from his shoulder. The fire that he had kindled in +her soul was burning in her eyes. "I am all yours--all yours," she told +him passionately. "All that I have to offer is your own." + +His face changed a little. The tender mockery passed, and an expression +that was oddly out of place there succeeded it. "Ah, you shouldn't tell +me that, sweetheart," he said, and his voice was low and held a touch of +pain. "I might be tempted to take too much--more than I have any right +to take." + +"You have a right to all," she said. + +But he shook his head. "No--no! You are too young." + +"Too young to love?" she said, with quick scorn. + +His arm was close about her. "No," he answered soberly. "Only so young +that you may--possibly--make the mistake of loving too well." + +"What do you mean?" Her voice had a startled note; she pressed nearer to +him. + +He lifted a hand and pointed to the silver pathway on the sea. "I mean +that love is just moonshine--just moonshine; the dream of a night that +passes." + +"Not in a night!" she cried, and there was anguish in the words. + +He bent again swiftly and kissed her lips. "No, not in a night, +sweetheart. Not even in two. But at last--at last--_tout passe_!" + +"Then it isn't love!" she said with conviction. + +He snapped his fingers at the moonlight with a gesture half-humorous, +yet half-defiant. "It is life," he said, "and the irony of life. Don't +be too generous, my queen of the sea! Give me what I ask--of your +graciousness! But--don't offer me more! Perhaps I might take it, and +then--" + +He turned with the words, as if the sentence were ended, and Columbine +went with him, bewildered but too deeply fascinated to feel any serious +misgiving. She did not ask for any further explanation, something about +him restrained her. But she knew no doubt, and when he halted in the +shadow of the deserted quay and took her face once more between his +hands with the one word, "Tomorrow!" she lifted eyes of perfect trust to +his and answered simply, "Yes, tomorrow!" + +And the rapture of his kisses was all-sufficing. She carried away with +her no other memory but that. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +MIDSUMMER MORNING + + +It was two mornings later, very early on Midsummer Day, that Rufus the +Red, looking like a Viking in the crystal atmosphere of sky and sea, +rowed the stranger with great, swinging strokes through the fishing +fleet right out into the burning splendour of the sun. Knight had +entered the boat in the belief that he was going to see something of the +raising of the nets. But it became apparent very soon that Rufus had +other plans for his entertainment, for he passed his father by with no +more than a jerk of the head, which Adam evidently interpreted as a sign +of farewell rather than of greeting, and rowed on without a pause. + +Knight, with his sketch-book beside him, sat in the stern. He had never +taken much interest in Rufus before; but now, seated facing him, with +the giant muscles and grim, unresponsive countenance of the man +perpetually before his eyes, the selecting genius in him awoke and began +to appraise. + +Rufus wore a grey flannel shirt, open at the neck, displaying a broad +red chest, immensely powerful, with a bull-like strength that every +swing of the oars brought into prominence. He had not the appearance of +exerting himself unduly, albeit he was pulling in choppy water against +the tide. + +His blue eyes gazed ever straight at the shore he was leaving. He seemed +so withdrawn into himself as to be oblivious of the fact that he was not +alone. Knight watched him, wondering if any thoughts were stirring in +the slow brain behind that massive forehead. Columbine had declared that +the man was an oaf, and he felt inclined to agree with her. And yet +there was something in the intensity of the fellow's eyes that held his +attention, the possibility of the actual existence of an unknown element +that did not fit into that conception of him. They were not the eyes of +a mere animal. There was no vagueness in their utter stillness. Rather +had they the look of a man who waits. + +Curiosity began to stir within him. He wondered if by judicious probing +he could penetrate the wall of aloofness with which his companion seemed +to be surrounded. It would be interesting to know if the fellow really +possessed any individuality. + +Airily he broke the silence. "Are you going to take me straight into the +temple of the sun? I thought I was out to see the fishing." + +The remote blue eyes came back as it were out of the far distance and +found him. There came to Knight an odd, wholly unwonted, sensation of +smallness. He felt curiously like a pigmy disturbing the meditations of +a giant. + +Rufus looked at him for several seconds of uninterrupted rowing before, +in his deep, resounding voice, he spoke. "They won't be taking up the +nets for a goodish while yet. We shall be back in time." + +"The idea is to give me a run for my money first, eh?" inquired Knight +pleasantly. + +He had not anticipated the sudden fall of the red brows that greeted his +words. He felt as if he had inadvertently trodden upon a match. + +"No," said Rufus slowly, speaking with a strangely careful accent, as if +his mind were concentrated upon being absolutely intelligible to his +listener. "That was not my idea." + +The spirit of adventure awoke in Knight. There was something behind this +granite calmness of demeanour then. He determined to draw it forth, even +though he struck further sparks in the process. + +"No?" he said carelessly. "Then why this pleasure trip? Did you bring me +out here just to show me--the 'Pit of the Burning'?" + +His eyes were upon the dazzling glory of the newly risen sun as he threw +the question. Rufus's massive head and shoulders were strongly outlined +against it. He had ceased to row, but the boat still shot forward, +impelled by the last powerful sweep of the oars, the water streaming +past in a rush of foam. + +Slowly, like the hammer-strokes of a deep-toned bell, came Rufus's voice +in answer. "It wasn't to show you anything I brought you here. It was +just to tell you something." + +"Really?" Knight's interest was thoroughly aroused. He became alert to +the finger-tips. There was something in the deliberate utterance that +conveyed a sense of danger. A wary gleam shone in his eyes under their +level brows. It was one of his principles when dealing with an uncertain +situation never to betray surprise. "And what may this valuable piece of +information be?" he inquired, with a smile. + +Rufus shipped his oars steadily, gravely, with purpose. "I saw you cross +the quicksand last night," he said. + +"Indeed!" Knight's voice was of the most casual quality. He was feeling +for his cigarette-case. + +Rufus continued heavily, fatefully, gathering force with every word, as +a loosened rock beginning to roll down a mountain side. "The light was +bad. It was a tomfool thing to do. And Columbine was with you." + +Knight raised his shoulders ever so slightly. "Or rather--I was with +her. Miss Columbine knows the lie of the quicksand. I--do not." + +Rufus went on as if he had not spoken. "There's danger all along that +beach as far as the Spear Point. Adam will tell you the same. When it's +a spring tide there's times when there's such a swell that it's round +the Point and over the pool like a tidal wave. You'll hear the +bell-buoy tolling when there's a swell like that. We call it the Death +Current hereabouts, because there's nothing could live in it, and the +bell always tolls. And once it comes up like that the way to the +cliff-path is under water in less than thirty seconds. And the quicksand +is the only chance left." He paused; it was as if the rock halted for a +moment on the edge of the precipice before plunging finally into the +abyss of silence below. "When there's a ground swell," he said, "the +quicksand will pull a man down quicker than hell. And there's no +one--not Adam himself--can tell the lay of it for certain when the light +is bad." + +His mouth closed upon the words like the snap of a strong spring. Knight +waited for more, but none came. Whatever the thought behind the warning +that he had just uttered it was evident that Rufus had no intention of +giving it expression. He had uttered the girl's name with no more +emotion than that of his father, but it seemed to Knight that by that +very fact he had managed to convey a warning more potent than any that +had followed. Otherwise he would scarcely have taken the trouble to +mention her. The possibility of subtlety in this great, slow-speaking +giant piqued him to a keener interest. He resolved to probe a little +deeper. + +"Miss Columbine is a very reliable guide," he remarked. "If you and Adam +have been her instructors in shore-craft, she does you credit." + +His remark went into utter silence. Rufus, with huge hands loosely +clasped between his knees, appeared to be engrossed in watching the +progress of the boat as she drifted gently on the rising tide. His face +was utterly blank of expression, unless a certain grim fixity could be +described as such. + +Knight became slightly exasperated. Was the fellow no more than the fool +Columbine believed him to be after all? He determined to settle this +question once and for all at a single stroke. + +"I suppose she has all you fellows at Spear Point at her feet?" he said, +with an easy smile. "But I hope you are all too large-minded to grudge a +poor artist the biggest find that has ever come his way." + +There was a pause, but the burning blue eyes were no longer fixed upon +the sparkling ripples through which they had travelled. They were turned +upon Knight's face, searching, piercing, intent. Before he spoke again, +Knight's doubt as to the existence of a brain behind the massive brow +was fully set at rest. + +"There is another thing I have to say," said Rufus. + +Knight's smile broadened encouragingly. "By all means let us hear it!" +he said. + +Rufus proceeded. "You speak of Columbine as if she were just a bit of +amber or such-like as you'd found on the shore and picked up and put in +your pocket. You speak as if she's your property to do what you like +with. That's just what she is not. You're making love to her. I know +it. I seen it. And it's got to stop." + +He spoke with blunt force; his hands were suddenly locked upon each +other in a hard grip. + +Knight lifted his shoulders; his smile had become whimsical. He had +drawn the fellow at last. "I thought you'd seen something," he remarked, +"by your way. But who could help making love to a girl with a face like +that? It would take a heart of stone to resist it. Why, even you"--and +his look challenged Rufus with careless derision--"even you have fallen +to that temptation before now, or I'm much mistaken. But I gather that +your attentions did not meet with a very favourable response." + +He was baiting the animal now, taunting him, with the semi-humorous +malice of the mischievous schoolboy. He had no particular grudge against +Rufus, but he had a lively desire to see him squirm. + +But this desire was not to be gratified. Rufus met the thrust without +the faintest hint of feeling. + +"What you think," he said, in his weighty fashion, "has nothing to do +with me. What you do is all that matters. And I tell you straight"--a +blue flame suddenly leapt up like a volcanic light in the sombre +eyes--"that no man that hasn't honest intentions by her is going to make +love to Columbine." + +"Great Jove!" mocked Knight, with his careless laugh. "And who told you, +most worthy swain, what my intentions were?" + +Rufus leaned towards him slowly, with something of the action of a +crouching beast. "No one told me," he said in a voice that was deeply +menacing. "But--I know." + +Knight made a gesture of supreme indifference. "You are on an entirely +wrong scent," he observed. "But you seem to be enjoying it." He paused +to take out a cigarette. "Have a smoke!" he suggested after a moment, +proffering his case. + +Rufus did not so much as see it. His whole attitude was one of strain, +as if he barely held himself back from springing at the other's throat. + +Knight, however, was elaborately unconscious of any tension. He smiled +and closed his cigarette case. Then with the utmost deliberation he +searched for his matches, found them, and lighted his cigarette. + +Having puffed forth the first deep breath with luxurious enjoyment, he +spoke again. "It is a little difficult to get a man of your stamp to +comprehend the fact that an artist--a true artist--is not one to be +greatly drawn by the grosser things of life, more especially when he is +in ardent pursuit of that elusive flame called inspiration. But you +would hardly grasp a condition in which the body--and the impulses of +the body--are in complete subjection to the aspirations of the mind. +You"--he blew forth a cloud of smoke--"are probably incapable of +realizing that the worship of beauty can be of so purely artistic a +nature as to be practically free from the physical element, certainly +independent of it. I am taking you out of your depth, I know, but it is +hard to make myself clear to an untrained mind. I might try a homely +simile and suggest to you that you go a-fishing, not for love of the +fish, but because it is your profession; but that does not wholly +illustrate my meaning, for I love everything in the way of beauty that +comes my way. I follow beauty like a guiding star. And sometimes--but +seldom, oh, very seldom"--a sudden odd thrill sounded in his voice as if +by accident some hidden string had been struck and set vibrating--"I +fulfil my desire--I realise my dream--I grasp and hold a spark of the +Divine." He paused again, his face to the gold of the dawn and in his +eyes the far-off rapture of one who watches some soaring flight of +fancy. Then abruptly, lightly, he resumed his normal, half-quizzing +demeanour. "Doubtless I weary you," he said. "But you mustn't run away +with the idea that I am in love because I feel myself inspired. It may +sound callous to you, but if Miss Columbine were to lose her exquisite +beauty (which heaven forbid!) I should never voluntarily look upon her +again. That I take it, is the test of love, which, we are told, is blind +to all defects." + +He ceased to speak, and carelessly, yet with obvious enjoyment, he sent +forth another cloud of smoke into the crystal air of the morning. + +He was not looking at Rufus. It was abundantly evident that he had not +realised how near to open violence the young fisherman had been. His +nonchalant explanation was plainly all-sufficing in his own opinion, +and during the very marked silence that followed he displayed no +faintest hint of anxiety or even interest as to the fashion of its +reception. + +The boat was rocking lightly on the swell; the sea all around was +flooded with gold. The great jagged outline of the Spear Point looked +like the castle of a dream. The haze of the newly risen sun had touched +with magic all the world. Knight's eyes were half-closed. He had the +look of a man at peace with himself. + +And Rufus relaxed. The tension went out of his attitude; the volcanic +fires died down. For half a minute or more he sat absolutely passive. +Then slowly, with massive deliberation, he moved, unshipped the oars, +and bent himself to pull. In another ten seconds the boat was rushing +through the water under the compulsion of his powerful strokes, heading +straight for the boats of the fishing fleet that dotted the bay.... + +It must have been fully a quarter of an hour later that Knight, having +finished his cigarette, came out of his reverie. + +"And so, you see," he remarked in the tone of one pleasantly rounding +off a conversation, "until my picture is painted I remain the slave of +my dream. I wonder if I have succeeded at all in making myself +intelligible." + +His eyes opened lazily and met Rufus's sombre gaze; they held a laughing +challenge, the easy challenge of the practised fencer who condescends +to try a bout with ignorance. + +Stolidly Rufus met the look. If he realised the challenge he did not +accept it. He had barred himself in once more behind an impenetrable +wall of unresponsiveness. His gaze was once more obscure and bovine. All +hint of violence was gone from his bearing. Only solid force +remained--the force that drove the boat strongly, unerringly, through +the golden-crested waves. + +"If you're going to do a picture of Columbine," he said slowly, "I hope +it'll be a good one." + +"It will probably be--great," said Knight, and flicked some ash from his +sleeve with the complacent air of a man who has accomplished his +purpose. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE MIDSUMMER MOON + + +It was very late that night, just as the first long rays of a full moon +streamed across a dreaming sea, that the door that led out of the +conservatory at The Ship softly opened, and a slim figure, clad in a +long, dark garment, flitted forth. Neither to right nor left did it +glance, but, closing the door without sound, slipped out over the grass +almost as if it moved on wings, and so down to the beach-path that wound +steeply to the shore. + +The tide was rising with the moon; the roar of it swelled and sank like +the mighty breathing of a giant. The waters shone in the gathering light +in a vast silver shimmer almost too dazzling for the eye to endure. In +another hour it would be as light as day. A few dim clouds were floating +over the stars, filmy wisps that had escaped from the ragged edges of a +dark curtain that had veiled the sun before its time. The breeze that +had blown them free wandered far overhead; below, especially on the +shore, it was almost tropically warm, and no breath of air seemed to +stir. + +Swiftly went the flitting figure, like a brown moth drawn by the +glitter of the moonlight. There was no other living thing in sight. + +All the lights of Spear Point village had gone out long since. Rufus's +cottage, with its slip of garden on the shelf of the cliff, was no more +than a faint blur of white against the towering sandstone behind. No +light had shone there all the evening, for the daylight had not died +till ten, and he was often in bed at that hour. The fishing fleet would +be out again with the dawn if the weather held, or even earlier; and the +hours of sleep were precious. + +Down on the rocks on the edge of the sleeping pool a grey shadow lurked +amidst darker shadows. A faint scent of cigarette smoke hung about the +silver beach--a drifting suggestion intangible as the magic of the +night. + +Could it have been this faint, floating fragrance that drew the flitting +brown moth by way of the quicksand, swiftly, swiftly, along the moonlit +shore travelling with mysterious certainty, irresistibly attracted? +There was no pause in its rapid progress, though the course it followed +was tortuous. It pursued, with absolute confidence, an invisible, +winding path. And ever the roar of the sea grew louder and louder. + +Across the pool, carved in the blackness of the outstretched curving +scimitar of rock, there was a ledge, washed smooth by every tide, but a +foot or more above the water when the tide was out. It was inaccessible +save by way of the pool itself, and yet it had the look of a pathway cut +in the face of the Spear Point Rock. The moonlight gleamed upon its wet +surface. In the very centre of the great curving rock there was a deeper +darkness that might have been a cave. + +It must have been after midnight when the little brown figure that had +flitted so securely through the quicksand came with its noiseless feet +over the tumble of rocks that lay about the pool, and the shadow that +lurked in the shadows rose up and became a man. + +They met on the edge of the pool, but there was about the lesser form a +hesitancy of movement, a shyness, almost a wildness, that seemed as if +it would end in flight. + +But the man remained quite motionless, and in a moment or two the +impulse passed or was controlled. Two quivering hands came forth to him +as if in supplication. + +"So you are waiting!" a low voice said. + +He took the hands, bending to her. The moonlight made his eyes gleam +with a strange intensity. + +"I have been waiting a long time," he said. + +Even then she made a small, fluttering movement backward, as if she +would evade him. And then with a sharp sob she conquered her reluctance +again. She gave herself into his arms. + +He held her closely, passionately. He kissed her face, her neck, her +bosom, as if he would devour the sweetness of her in a few mad moments +of utter abandonment. + +But in a little he checked himself. "You are so late, sweetheart. The +tide won't wait for us. There will be time for this--afterwards." + +She lay burning and quivering against his heart. "There is tomorrow," +she whispered, clinging to him. + +He kissed her again. "Yes, there is tomorrow. But who can tell what may +happen then? There will never be such a night as this again, sweet. See +the light against that rock! It is a marvel of black and white, and I +swear that the pool is green. There is magic abroad tonight. Let me +catch it! Let me catch it! Afterwards!--when the tide comes up--we will +drink our fill of love." + +He spoke as if urged by strong excitement, and having spoken his arms +relaxed. But she clung to him still. + +"Oh, darling, I am frightened--I am frightened! I couldn't come sooner. +I had a feeling--of being watched. I nearly--very nearly--didn't come at +all. And now I am here--I feel--I feel--afraid." + +He bent his face to hers again. His hand rested lightly, reassuringly +upon her head. "No, no! There is nothing to frighten you, my +passion-flower. If you had only come to me sooner it would have made it +easier for you. But now there is no time." The soothing note in his +voice sounded oddly strained, as though an undernote of fever throbbed +below it. "You're not going to fail me," he urged softly. "Think how +much it means to you--to me! And there is only half an hour left, dear. +Give me that half-hour to catch the magic! Then--when the tide comes +up"--his voice sank, he whispered deeply into her ear--"I will teach you +the greatest magic this old world knows." + +She thrilled at his words, thrilled through her trembling. She lifted +her face to the moonlight. "I love you!" she said. "Oh, I love you!" + +"And you will do this one thing for me?" he urged. + +She threw her arms wide. "I would die for you," she told him +passionately. + +A moment she stood so, then with a swift movement that had in it +something of fierce surrender she sprang away from him on to the flat +rock above the pool where but two nights before the gates of love's +wonderland had first opened to her. + +Here for a second she stood, motionless it seemed. And then strangely, +amazingly, she moved again. The brown garment slipped from her, and like +a streak of light, she was gone, and the still pool received her with a +rippling splash as of fairy laughter. + +The man on the brink drew a short, hard breath, and put his hand to his +eyes as if dazed. And from beyond the Spear Point there sounded the deep +tolling of the bell-buoy as it rocked on the rising tide. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE DEATH CURRENT + + +The pool was still again, still as a sheet of glass, reflecting the +midnight glory of the moon. It was climbing high in the sky, and the +cloud-wreaths were mounting towards it as incense smoke from an altar. +The thick, black curtain that hung in the west was growing like a +monstrous shadow, threatening to overspread the whole earth. + +Down on the silver beach, crouched on one of the rocks that bordered the +shining pool, Knight worked with fevered intensity to catch the magic of +the hour. The light was wonderful. The pool shone strangely, deeply +green; the rocks about it might have been delicately carved in ivory. +And across the pool, clear-cut against the utter darkness of the Spear +Point Rock, stood Aphrodite the Beautiful, clad in some green +translucent draperies, her black hair loose about her, her white arms +outstretched to the moonlight, her face--exquisite as a flower--upturned +to meet the glory. She was like a dream too wonderful to be true, save +for the passion that lived in her eyes. That was vivid, that was +poignant--the fire of sacrifice burning inwardly. + +The man worked on as one driven by a ruthless force. His teeth were +clenched upon his lower lip. His hands were shaking, and yet he knew +that what he did was too superb for criticism. It was the work of +genius--the driving force within that would not let him pause to listen +to the wild urgings of his heart. That might come after. But this--this +power that compelled was supreme. While it gripped him he was not his +own master. He was, as he himself had said, a slave. + +And while he worked at its behest, watching the wonderful thing that +inspiration was weaving by his hand, scarcely conscious of effort, +though the perspiration was streaming down his face, he whispered over +and over between his clenched teeth the title of the picture that was to +astonish the world--"The Goddess Veiled in Foam." + +There was no foam as yet on the pool, but he remembered how two nights +before he had seen the breaking of the first wave that had turned it +into a seething cauldron of surf. That was what he wanted now--just the +first great wave washing over her exquisite feet and flinging its +garment of spray like a flimsy veil over her perfect form. He wanted +that as he wanted nothing else on earth. And then--then--he would catch +his dream, he would chain for ever the fairy vision that might never be +granted again. + +There came a boom like a distant gunshot on the other side of the Spear +Point Rock, and again, but very far away, there sounded the tolling of +the bell beyond the reef. The man's heart gave a great leap. It was +coming! + +In the same moment the girl's voice came to him across the pool, +mingling with the rushing of great waters. + +"The tide is coming up fast. It won't be safe much longer." + +"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried back almost frantically. "It is +absolutely safe. I will swim across and help you if you are afraid. But +wait--wait just a few moments more!" + +She did not urge him. Her surrender had been too complete. Perhaps his +promise reassured her, or perhaps she did not fully realise the danger. +She waited motionless and the man worked on. + +Again there came that sound that was like the report of a distant gun, +and the roaring of the sea swelled to tumult. + +"Don't move! Don't move!" he cried again. + +But she could not have heard him in the overwhelming rush of the sea. + +There came a sudden dimness. A cloud had drifted over the moon, and +Knight looked up and cursed it with furious impatience. It passed, and +he saw her again--his vision, the goddess of his dream, still as the +rock behind her, yet splendidly alive. He bent himself again to his +work. Would that wave never come to veil her in sparkling raiment of +foam? + +Ah! At last! The peace of the pool was shattered. A shining wave, +curved, green, transparent, gleamed round the corner, ran, swift as a +flame, along the rock, and broke with a thunderous roar in a torrent of +snow-white surf. In a moment the pool was a seething tumult of water, +and in that moment Knight saw his goddess as the artist in him had +yearned to see her, her beauty half-veiled and half-revealed in a +shimmering robe of foam. + +The vision vanished. Another cloud had drifted over the moon. Only the +swirling water remained. + +Again he lifted his head to curse the fate that baffled him, and as he +did so a hand came suddenly from the darkness behind and gripped him by +the shoulder. A voice that was like the angry bellow of a bull roared in +his ear. + +What it said he did not hear; so amazed was he by the utter +unexpectedness of the attack. Before he had time to realise what was +happening, he was shaken with furious force and flung aside. He +fell--and his precious work fell with him--on the very edge of that +swirling pool.... + +Seconds later, when the moon gleamed out again, he was still frantically +groping for it on the stones. The roar of the sea was terrible and +imminent, like the roar of a destroying monster racing upon its prey, +and from the caves there came a hollow groaning as of chained spirits +under the earth. + +The light flashed away again just as he spied his treasure on the brink +of the dashing water. He sprang to save it, intent upon naught else; +but in that instant there came a roar such as he had not heard before--a +sound so compelling, so nerve-shattering, that even he was arrested, +entrapped as it were by a horror of crashing elements that made him +wonder if all the fiends in hell were fighting for his soul. And, as he +paused, the swirl of a great wave caught him in the darkness like the +blow of a concrete thing, nearly flinging him backwards. He staggered, +for the first time stricken with fear, and then in the howling uproar of +that dreadful place there came to him like a searchlight wheeling +inwards the thought of the girl. The water receded from him, leaving him +drenched, almost dazed, but a voice within--an urgent, insistent +voice--clamoured that his safety was at stake, his life a matter of mere +moments if he lingered. This was the Death Current of which Rufus had +warned him only that afternoon. Had not the bell-buoy been tolling to +deaf ears for some time past? The Death Current that came like a tidal +wave! And nothing could live in it. The girl--surely the girl had been +washed off her ledge and overwhelmed in the flood before it had reached +him. Possibly Rufus would manage to save her, for that it was Rufus who +had so savagely sprung upon him he had no doubt; but he himself was +powerless. If he saved his own life it would be by a miracle. Had not +the fellow warned him that retreat by way of the cliff-path would be cut +off in thirty seconds when the tide raced up like that? And if he failed +to reach that, only the quicksand was left--the quicksand that dragged +a man down quicker than hell! + +He set his teeth and turned his face to the cliff. A light was shining +half-way up it--that must come from the window of Rufus's cottage. He +took it as a beacon, and began to stumble through the howling darkness +towards it. He knew the cliff-path. He had come down it only that night +to make sure that there was no one spying upon them. The cottage had +been shut and dark then, the little garden empty. He had concluded that +Rufus had gone early to rest after a long day with the nets, and had +passed on securely to wait for Columbine on the edge of their magic +pool. But what he did not know was exactly where the cliff-path ran out +on to the beach. The opening was close to the Caves and sheltered by +rocks. Could he find it in this infernal darkness? Could he ever make +his way to it in time? With the waves crashing behind him he struggled +desperately towards the blackness of the cliffs. + +The rocks under his feet were wet and slippery. He fought his way over +them, feeling as if a hundred demons were in league to hold him back. +The swirl of the incoming tide sounded in his ears like a monstrous +chant of death. Again and again he slipped and fell, and yet again he +dragged himself up, grimly determined to fight the desperate battle to +the last gasp. The thought of Columbine had gone wholly from him, even +as the thought of his lost treasure. Only the elemental desire of life +gripped him, vital and urgent, forcing him to the greatest physical +effort he had ever made. He went like a goaded animal, savage, stubborn, +fiercely surmounting every obstacle, driven not so much by fear as by a +furious determination to frustrate the fate that menaced him. + +It must have been nearly a minute later that the moon shone forth again, +throwing gleaming streaks of brightness upon the mighty breakers that +had swallowed the magic pool. They were riding in past the Spear Point +in majestic and unending procession, and the rocks that surrounded the +pool were already deeply covered. The surf of one great wave was rushing +over the beach to the Caves, and the spray of it blew over Knight, +drenching him from head to foot. Desperately, by that passing gleam of +moonlight, he searched for the opening of the path, the foam of the +oncoming procession already swirling about his feet. He spied it +suddenly at length, and in the same instant something within him--could +it have been his heart?--dropped abruptly like a loosened weight to the +very depths of his being. The way of escape in that direction was +already cut off. In the darkness he had not taken a straight course, and +it was too late. + +Wildly he turned--like a hunted animal seeking refuge. With great leaps +and gigantic effort, he made for the open beach. He reached it, reached +the loose dry sand so soon to be covered by the roaring tumult of great +waters. His eyes glared out over the level stretch that intervened +between the Spear Point Rock and the harbour quay. The tide would not be +over it yet. + +He flung his last defiance to the fate that relentlessly hunted him as +he took the only alternative, and set himself to traverse the way of the +quicksand--that dragged a man down quicker than hell. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE BOON + + +Someone was mounting the steep cliff-path that led to Rufus's cottage--a +man, square-built and powerful, who carried a burden. The moon shone +dimly upon his progress through a veil of drifting cloud. He was +streaming with water at every step, but he moved as if his drenched +clothing were in no way a hindrance--steadily, strongly, with stubborn +fixity of purpose. The burden he carried hung limply in his arms, and +over his shoulder there drifted a heavy mass of wet, black hair. + +He came at length on his firm, bare feet to the little gate that led to +the lonely cottage, and, without pausing, passed through. The cottage +door was ajar. He pushed it back and entered, closing it, even as he did +so, with a backward fling of the heel. Then, in the tiny living-room, by +the light of the lamp that shone in the window, he laid his burden down. + +White and cold, she lay with closed eyes upon the little sofa, +motionless and beautiful as a statue recumbent upon a tomb, her drenched +draperies clinging about her. He stood for a second looking upon her; +then, still with the absolute steadiness of set purpose, he turned and +went into the inner room. + +He came back with a blanket, and stooping, he lifted the limp form and, +with a certain deftness that seemed a part of his immovable resolution, +he wrapped it in the rough grey folds. + +It was while he was doing this that a sudden sigh came from between the +parted lips, and the closed eyes flashed open. + +They gazed upon him in bewilderment, but he continued his ministrations +with grim persistence and an almost bovine expression of countenance. +Only when two hands came quivering out of the enveloping blanket and +pushed him desperately away did he desist. He straightened himself then +and turned away. + +"You'll be--all right," he said in his deep voice. + +Then Columbine started up on her elbow, clutching wildly at the blanket, +drawing it close about her. The cold stillness of her was gone, as +though a sudden flame had scorched her. Her face, her neck, her whole +body were burning, burning. + +"What--what happened?" she gasped. "You--why have you brought me--here?" + +He did not look at her. + +"It was the nearest place," he said. "The Death Current caught you, and +you were stunned. I got you out." + +"You--got me--out!" she repeated, saying the words slowly as if she +were teaching herself a lesson. + +He nodded his great head. + +"Yes. I came up in time. I saw what would happen. There's often a tidal +wave about now. I thought you knew that--thought Adam would have told +you. He"--his voice suddenly went a tone deeper--"knew it. I told him +this morning." + +"Ah!" She uttered the word upon a swift intake of breath; her startled +eyes suddenly dilated. "Where is he?" she said. + +The man's huge frame stiffened at the question; she saw his hands +clench. But he kept his head turned from her; she could not see his +face. There followed a pause that seemed to her fevered imagination to +have something deadly in it. Then: "I hope he's gone where he belongs," +said Rufus, with terrible deliberation. + +Her cry of agony cut across his last word like the severing of a taut +string. She leapt to her feet, in that moment of anguish supremely +forgetful of self. + +"Rufus!" she cried, and wildly gripped his arm, "You've never--left +him--to be--killed!" + +She felt his muscles harden in grim resistance to her grasp. She saw +that his averted face was set like a stone mask. + +"It's none of my business," he said, speaking through rigid lips. + +She turned from him with a gasp of horror and sprang for the door. But +in an instant he wheeled, thrust out a great arm, and caught her. His +fingers closed upon her bare shoulder. + +"Columbine!" he said. + +She resisted him frantically, bending now this way, now that. But he +held her in spite of it, held her, and slowly brought her nearer to him. + +"Stand still!" he said. + +His voice came upon her like a blow. She flinched at the sound of +it--flinched and obeyed. + +"Let me go!" she gasped out. "He--may be drowning--at this moment!" + +"Let him drown!" said Rufus. + +She lifted her tortured face in frenzied protest, but it died upon her +lips. For in that moment she met his eyes, and the blazing blue of them +made her feel as though spirit had been poured upon her flame, consuming +her. Words failed her utterly. She stood palpitating in his hold, not +breathing--a wild thing trapped. + +Slowly he bent towards her. "Let him drown!" he said again. "Do you +think I'm going to let you throw your life away for a cur like that?" + +There was uncloaked ferocity in the question. His hold was merciless. + +"I saved you," he said. "It wasn't especially easy. But I did it. For +the matter of that, I'd have gone through hell for you. And do you think +I'm going to let you go again--now?" + +She did not answer him. Only her lips moved stiffly, as though they +formed words she could not utter. She could not take her eyes from his, +though his looks seared her through and through. + +He went on, deeply, with gathering force. "He'd have let you be swept +away. He didn't care. All he wanted was to get you for his picture. That +was all he made love to you for. He'd have sacrificed you to the devil +for that. You don't believe me, maybe, but I know--I know!" + +There was savage certainty in the reiterated words, and the girl +recoiled from them, her face like death. But he held her still, +implacably, relentlessly. + +"That's all he wants of you," he said. "To use you for his purpose, and +then--to throw you aside. Why"--and he suddenly showed his clenched +teeth--"he dared--damn him!--he dared to tell me so!" + +"He--told you!" Her lips spoke the words at last, but they seemed to +come from a long way off. + +"Yes." With suppressed violence he answered her. "He didn't put it that +way--being a gentleman! But he took care to make me understand that he +only wanted you for the sake of his accursed picture. That's the only +thing that counts with him, and he's the sort not to care what he does +to get it. He wouldn't have got you--like this--if he hadn't made you +love him first. I know that too--as well as if you'd told me." + +The passion in his voice was rising, and it was as if the heat of it +rekindled her animation. With a jerky movement she flung up both her +hands, grasping tensely the arms that held her so rigidly. + +"Yes, I love him!" she said, and her voice rang wildly. "I love him! I +don't care what he is! Rufus--Rufus--oh, for the love of Heaven, don't +let him drown!" The words rushed out desperately; it was as if her whole +nature, all her pride, all her courage, were flung into that frantic +appeal. She clung to the man with straining entreaty. "Oh, go down and +save him!" she begged. "I'll do anything for you in return--anything you +like to ask! Only do this one thing for me! He may have escaped the +tide. If so, he'll try the quicksand, and he don't know the lie of it! +Rufus, you wouldn't want--your worst enemy--to die like that!" + +She broke off, wildly sobbing, yet still clinging to him in agonised +entreaty. The man's face, with its crude ferocity, the untamed glitter +of its fiery eyes, was still bent to hers, but she no longer shrank from +it. The power that moved her was too immense to be swayed by lesser +things. His attitude no longer affected her, one way or another. It had +ceased to count, so that she only wrenched from him this one great boon. + +And Rufus must have realised the fact, for he stood up sharply and +backed against the door, releasing her. + +"You don't know what you're saying," he said gruffly. + +"I do--I do!" With anguished reiteration she answered him. "I'm not the +sort that offers and then doesn't pay. Oh, don't waste time talking! +Every moment may be his last. Go down--go down to the shore! You're so +strong. Save him--save him!" + +She beat her clasped hands against his broad chest, till abruptly he put +up his own again and held them still. + +"Columbine!" For the second time he uttered her name, and for the second +time the command in his voice caught and compelled her. "Just you listen +a minute!" he said, and as he spoke his look swept her with a mastery +that dominated even her agony. "If I go and save the cur, you've done +with him for ever--you swear that?" + +"Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Only go--only go!" + +But he remained square and resolute against the door. "And you'll stay +here--you swear to stay here till I come back?" + +"Yes!" she cried again. + +He bent to her once more; his gaze possessed her. "And--afterwards?" he +said, his voice deep and very low. + +Her eyes had been raised to his; they closed suddenly and sharply, as if +to shut him out. "I will give you--all I have," she said, and shivered, +violently, uncontrollably. + +The next instant his hands were gone from hers, and she was free. + +Trembling, she sank upon the sofa, hiding her face; and even as she did +so the banging of the cottage door told her he was gone. + +Thereafter she sat crouched for a long, long time in the paralysis of a +great fear. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE VISION + + +Down on the howling shore the great waves were hurling themselves in +vast cataracts of snow-white surf that shone, dimly radiant, in the +fitful moonlight. The sky was covered with broken clouds, and a rising +storm-wind blew in gusts along the cliffs. The peace of the night was +utterly shattered, the shining glory had departed. A wild and desolate +grandeur had succeeded it. + +"Shouldn't wonder if there was some trouble tonight," said Adam, awaking +to the tumult. + +"Lor' bless you!" said Mrs. Peck sensibly. "Wait till it comes." + +The hint of impatience that marked her speech was not without reason, +for a gale was to Adam as the sound of a gun to a sporting-dog. It +invariably aroused him, even from the deepest slumber, to a state of +alert expectation that to a woman as hard-working as Mrs. Peck was most +exceptionally trying. When Adam scented disaster at sea there was no +peace for either. As she was wont to remark, being the wife of the +lifeboat coxswain wasn't all jam, not by any manner of means it wasn't. +She knew now, by the way Adam turned, and checked his breathing to +listen, that the final disturbance was not far off. + +She herself feigned sleep, possibly in the hope of provoking him to +consideration for her weariness; but she knew the effort to be quite +futile even as she made it. Adam the coxswain was considerate only for +those who might be in peril. At the next heavy gust that rattled the +windows he flung the bedclothes back without the smallest thought for +his companion's comfort, and tumbled on to his feet. + +"Just going to have a look round," he said. "I'll lay the fire in the +kitchen, and you be ready to light it in a jiffy if wanted!" + +That was so like Adam. He could think of nothing but possible victims of +the storm. Mrs. Peck sniffed, and gathered the bedclothes back about her +in expressive silence. It was quite useless to argue with Adam when he +got the jumps. Experience had taught her that long since. She could only +resume her broken rest and hope that it might not be again disturbed. + +Adam pulled on his clothes with his usual brisk deftness of movement and +went downstairs. The rising storm was calling him, and he could not be +deaf to the call. He had belonged to the lifeboat ever since he had come +to man's estate, and never a storm arose but he held himself ready for +service. + +His first, almost instinctive, action was to take the key of the +lifeboat house from its nail in the kitchen. Then, whistling cheerily +below his breath, he set about laying the fire. The kettles were +already filled. Mrs. Peck always saw to that before retiring. There was +milk in the pantry, brandy in the cupboard. According to invariable +custom, all was in readiness for any possible emergency, and having +satisfied himself that this was the case, he thrust his bare feet into +boots and went to the door. + +It had begun to rain. Great drops pattered down upon him as he emerged, +and he turned back to clap his sou'wester upon his head. Then, without +further preparation, he sallied forth. + +As he went down the road that ran to the quay a terrible streak of +lightning reft the dark sky, and the wild crash of thunder that followed +drowned even the roaring babel of the sea. + +It did not check his progress; he was never one to be easily daunted. It +was contrary to his very nature to seek shelter in a storm. He went +swinging on to the very edge of the quay, and there stood facing the +violence of the waves, the fierce turmoil of striving elements. + +The tide was extraordinarily high--such a tide as he believed he had +never seen before in summer. He stood in the pouring rain and looked +first one way, then the other, with a quick birdlike scrutiny, but as +far as his eyes could pierce he saw only an empty desolation of waters. +There seemed none in need of his help that night. + +"I wonder if Rufus is awake," he speculated to the angry tumult. + +Nearly three miles out from the Spear Point there was a lighthouse with +a revolving light. That light shone towards him now, casting a weird +radiance across the tossing water, and as if in accompaniment to the +warning gleam he heard the deep toll of the bell-buoy that rocked upon +the swell. + +Adam turned about. "I'll go and knock up Rufus," he decided. "It'd be a +shame to miss a night like this." + +Again the lightning rent the sky, and the whole great outline of the +Spear Point was revealed in one awful second of intolerable radiance. +Adam's keen eye chanced to be upon it, and he saw it in such detail as +the strongest sunlight could never have achieved. The brightness +dazzled, almost shocked him, but there was something besides the +brightness that sent an odd sensation through him--a curious, sick +feeling as if he had suddenly received a blow between the shoulders. For +in that fraction of time he had seen something which reason, clamouring +against the evidence of his senses, declared to be the impossible. He +had seen a human figure--the figure of his son--clinging to the naked +face of the rock, hanging between sea and sky where scarcely a bird +could have found foothold, while something--a grey, indistinguishable +burden--hung limp across his shoulder, weighing him down. + +The thunder was still rolling around him when with a great shake Adam +pulled himself together. + +"I'm dreaming!" he told himself angrily. "A man couldn't ever climb the +Spear Point, let alone live on a ledge that wouldn't harbour a sea-gull +if he did. I'll go round to Rufus. I'll go round and knock him up." + +With the words he tramped off through the rushing rain, and leaving the +quay, struck upwards along the cliff in the direction of the narrow path +that ran down to Rufus's dwelling above the Spear Point Caves. + +Despite the spareness of his frame, he climbed the ascent with a +rapidity that made him gasp. The wind also was against him, blowing in +strong gusts, and the raging of the sea below was as the roaring of a +thousand torrents. The great waves boomed against the cliff far beyond +the summer watermark. They had long since covered the quicksand, and he +thought he felt the ground shake with the shock of them. + +He reached at length the gap in the cliff that led down to the cottage, +and here he paused; for the descent was sharp, and the light that still +filtered through the dense storm-clouds was very dim. But in a few +seconds another great flash lit up the whole wild scene. He saw again +the Spear Point Rock standing out, scimitar-like, in the sea. The water +was dashing all around it. It stood up, grim and unapproachable, the +great waves flinging their mighty clouds of spray over its stark summit. +But--possibly because he viewed it from above instead of from below--he +saw naught beside that grand and futile struggle of the elements. + +Reassured, he started in the rain and darkness down the twisting path +that led to his old home. He knew every foot of the way, but even so, he +stumbled once or twice in the gloom. + +The roaring of the sea sounded terribly near when finally he reached the +little garden-gate and caught the ray of the lamp in the window. + +Evidently it had awakened Rufus also. Almost unconsciously he quickened +his pace as he went up the path. + +He reached the door and fumbled for the latch; but ere he found it, it +was flung open, and a strange and tragic figure met him on the +threshold. + +"Ah!" cried a woman's voice. "It is you! Where--where is Rufus?" + +Adam's keen and birdlike eyes nearly leapt from his head. +"Why--Columbine?" he said. + +She was dressed in Rufus's suit of navy serge. It hung about her in +clumsy folds, and over her shoulders and about her snow-white throat her +glorious hair streamed like a black veil, still wet and shining in the +lamplight. + +She flung out her hands to him in piteous appeal. "Oh, Adam!" she said. +"Have you seen them? Have you seen Rufus? He went--he went an hour +ago--to save Mr. Knight from the quicksand!" + +Adam's quick brain leapt to instant activity. The girl's presence +baffled him, but it was no time for explanation. In some way she had +discovered Knight in danger, and had rushed to Rufus for help. +Then--then--that vision of his from the quay--that flash of +revelation--had been no dream, after all! He had seen Rufus indeed--and +probably for the last time in his life. + +He stood, struck dumb for the moment, recalling every detail of the +clinging figure that had hung above the leaping waves. Then the tragedy +in Columbine's face made him pull himself together once more. He took +her trembling hands. + +"It's no good, my girl," he said. "I seen him. Yes, I seen him. I didn't +believe my eyes, but I know now it was true. He was hanging on to a bit +of rock half-way up the Spear Point, and t'other chap was lying across +his shoulder. They've both been washed away by this, for the water's +still coming up. There's not the ghost of a chance for 'em. I say it +'cos I know--not the ghost of a chance!" + +A wild cry broke from the girl's lips. She wrenched her hands free and +beat them upon her breast. Then suddenly a burst of wild tears came to +her. She leaned against the cottage wall and sobbed in an agony that +possessed her, soul and body. + +Adam stood and looked at her. There was something terrible about the +abandonment of her grief. It made him feel that his own was almost +insignificant beside it. He had never seen any woman weep like that +before. The anguish of it went through his heart. + +He moved at length, laid a very gentle hand upon her shaking shoulder. + +"My girl--my girl!" he said. "Don't take on so! I never thought as you +cared a ha'p'orth for poor Rufus, though o' course I always knew as he +loved you like mad." + +She bowed herself lower under his hand. "And now I've killed him!" she +gasped forth inarticulately. "I've killed him!" + +"No, no, no!" protested Adam. "That ain't reasonable. Come, now--you're +distraught! You don't know what you're saying. My Rufus is a fine chap. +He'd take most any risk to save a life. He's got a big heart in him, and +he don't stop to count the cost." + +She uncovered her face sharply and looked at him, so that he clearly saw +the ravages that her distress had wrought. "That wasn't what made him +go," she said. "He wouldn't have gone but for me. It was I as made him +go. But I thought he'd be in time. I hoped he'd be in time." Her voice +rose wildly; she wrung her hands. "Oh, can't you do anything? Can't you +take out the lifeboat? There must be some way--surely there must be some +way--of saving them!" + +But Adam shook his head. "He's past our help," he said. "There's no boat +could live among them rocks in such a tide as this. We couldn't get +anywhere near. No--no, there's nothing we can do. The lad's gone--my +Rufus--finest chap along the shore, if he was my son. Never thought as +he'd go before me--never thought--never thought!" + +The loud roll of the waves filled the bitter silence that followed, but +the battering of the rain upon the cottage roof was decreasing. The +storm was no longer overhead. + +Adam leaned on the back of a chair with his head in his hands. All the +wiry activity seemed to have gone out of him. He looked old and broken. + +The girl stood motionless behind him. A strange impassivity had +succeeded her last fruitless appeal, as though through excess of +suffering her faculties were numbed, animation itself were suspended. +She leaned against the wall, staring with wide, tragic eyes at the flame +of the lamp that stood in the window. Her arms hung stiffly at her +sides, and the hands were clenched. She seemed to be gazing upon +unutterable things. + +There was nothing to be done--nothing to be done! Till the waves had +spent their fury, till that raging sea went down, they were as helpless +as babes to stay the hand of Fate. No boat could live in that fearful +turmoil of water. Adam had said it, and she knew that what he said was +true, knew by the utter dejection of his attitude, the completeness of +his despair. She had never seen Adam in despair before; probably no one +had ever seen him as he was now. He was a man to strain every nerve +while the faintest ray of hope remained. He had faced many a furious +storm, saved many a life that had been given up for lost by other men. +But now he could do nothing, and he crouched there--an old and broken +man--for the first time realising his helplessness. + +A long time passed. The only sound within the cottage was the ticking of +a grandfather-clock in a corner, while without the great sound of the +breaking seas filled all the world. The storm above had passed. Now the +thunder-blast no longer shook the cottage. A faint greyness had begun to +show beyond the lamp in the window. The dawn was drawing near. + +As one awaking from a trance of terrible visions, the girl drew a deep +breath and spoke: + +"Adam!" + +He did not stir. He had not stirred for the greater part of an hour. + +She made a curiously jerky movement, as if she wrenched herself free +from some constricting hold. She went to the bowed, despairing figure. + +"Adam, the day is breaking. The tide must be on the turn. Shan't we go?" + +He stood up with the gesture of an old man. "What's the good?" he said. +"Do you think I want to see my boy's dead body left behind by the sea?" + +She shivered at the question. "But we can't stay here," she urged. "Aunt +Liza, you know--she'll be wondering." + +"Ah!" He passed his hand over his eyes. He was swaying a little as he +stood. She supported his elbow, for he seemed to have lost control of +his limbs. He stared at her in a dazed way. "You'd better go and tell +your Aunt Liza," he said. "I think I'll stay here a bit longer. Maybe my +boy'll come and talk to me if I'm alone. We're partners, you know, and +we lived here a good many years alone together. He wouldn't leave +me--not for the long voyage--without a word. Yes, you go, my dear, you +go! I'll stay here and wait for him." + +She saw that no persuasion of hers would move him, and it seemed useless +to remain. An intolerable restlessness urged her, moreover, to be gone. +The awful inertia of the past two hours had turned into a fevered desire +for action. It was the swing of the pendulum, and she felt that if she +did not respond to it she would go mad. + +Her knees were still trembling under her, but she controlled them and +turned to the door. As she lifted the latch she looked back and saw Adam +drop heavily into the chair upon which he had leaned for so long. His +attitude was one of almost stubborn patience, but it was evident that +her presence had ceased to count with him. He was waiting--she saw it +clearly in every line of him--waiting to bid his boy Godspeed ere he +fared forth finally on the long voyage from which there is no return. + +A sharp sob rose in her throat. She caught her hand to it, forcing it +back. Then, barefooted, she stepped out into the grey dimness that +veiled all things, and left the door of Rufus's cottage open behind +her. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE LONG VOYAGE + + +She never remembered afterwards how she accomplished the homeward +journey. The rough stones cut her feet again and again, but she never +felt the pain. She went as one who has an urgent mission to perform, +though what that mission was she scarcely knew. + +The night--that night of dreadful tragedy--had changed her. Columbine, +the passionate, the impulsive had turned into a being that was foreign +to herself. All the happy girlhood had been stamped out of her as by the +cruel pressure of a hot iron. She had ceased to feel the agony of it; +somehow she did not think that she ever could feel pain again. The nerve +tissues had been destroyed and all vitality was gone. The creature that +passed like a swift shadow through the twilight of the dawn was an old +and withered woman who had lived beyond her allotted time. + +She reached the old Ship Inn, meeting no one. She entered by the door of +the conservatory through which she had flitted aeons and aeons before to +meet her lover. She went to her room and changed into her own clothes. +The suit that had belonged to Rufus so long ago she laid away with an +odd reverence, still scarcely knowing what she did, driven as it were by +a mechanism that worked without any volition of hers. + +Then she went to the glass and began to coil up her hair. It was dank +and heavy yet with the seawater, but she wound it about her head without +noticing. The light was growing, and she peered at herself with a +detached sort of curiosity, till something in her own eyes frightened +her, and she turned away. + +She went to the window and opened it wide. The sound of the sea yet +filled the world, but it was not so insistent as it had been. The waves, +though mountainous still, were gradually receding from the shore. It was +as though the dawn had come just in time to prevent the powers of +darkness from triumphing. + +She heard someone moving in the house and turned back into the room. +Aunt Liza must be told. + +Through the spectral dawnlight she went down the stairs and took her way +to the kitchen. The door stood half open; she heard the cheery crackling +of the newly lighted fire before she entered. And hearing it, she was +aware of a great coldness that clung like a chain, fettering her every +movement. + +Someone moved as she pushed open the door. An enormous shadow leaped +upon the wall like a fantastic monster of the deep. She recoiled for a +second, then, as if drawn against her will, she entered. + +By the ruddy glow of the fire she saw a man's broad-chested figure, she +saw the gleam of tawny hair above a thick bull-neck. He was bending +slightly over the fire at her entrance, but, hearing her, he turned. And +in that moment every numbed nerve in Columbine's body was pierced into +quivering life. + +She stood as one transfixed, and he stood motionless also in the +flickering light of the flames, gazing at her with eyes of awful blue +that were as burning spirit. But he spoke not a word--not a word. How +could a dead man speak? + +And as they stood thus, facing each other, the floor between them began +suddenly to heave, became a mass of seething billows that rocked her, +caught her, engulfed her. She went down into them, and as the tossing +darkness received her, her last thought was that Rufus had come back +indeed--not to say farewell, but to take her with him on the long +voyage from which there is no return.... + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DEEP WATERS + + +Wild white roses that grew in the sandy stubble above the shore, little +orange-scented roses that straggled through the grass--they called to +something that ran in Columbine's blood, they spoke to her of the South. +She was sure that she would find those roses all about her feet when she +came to the end of the long voyage. She would see their golden hearts +wide open to the sun. For their fragrance haunted her day by day as she +floated down the long glassy stretches and rocked on the waveless +swells. + +Sometimes she had a curious fancy that she was lying dead, and they had +strewn the sweet flowers all about her. She hoped that they might not be +buried with her; they were too beautiful for that. + +At other times she thought of them as a bridal wreath, purer than the +purest orange-blossom that ever decked a bride. Once, too--this was when +she was nearing the end of the voyage--there came to her a magic whiff +of wet bog-myrtle that made her fancy that she must be a bride indeed. + +At last, just when it seemed to her that her boat was gently grounding +upon the sand where the little white roses grew, she opened her eyes +widely, wonderingly, and realised that the voyage was over. + +She was lying in her own little room at The Ship, and Mrs. Peck, with +motherly kindness writ large on her comely, plump face, was bending over +her with a cup of steaming broth in her hand. + +Columbine gazed at her with a bewildered sense of having slept too long. + +Mrs. Peck nodded at her cheerily. "There, my dear! You're better, I can +see. A fine time you've given us. I thought as I should never see your +bright eyes again." + +Columbine put forth a trembling hand with a curious feeling that it did +not belong to her at all. "Have I been ill?" she said. + +Mrs. Peck nodded again cheerily. "Why, it's more than a week you've been +lying here, and how I have worrited about you! Prostration following +severe shock was what the doctor called it, but it looked to me more +like a touch of brain fever. But there, you're better! Drink this like a +good girl, and you'll feel better still!" + +Meekly, with the docility of great weakness, Columbine swallowed the +proffered nourishment. She wanted to recall all that had happened, but +her brain felt too clogged to serve her. She could only lie and gaze and +gaze at a little vase of wild white roses that faced her upon the +mantelpiece. Somehow those roses seemed to her to play an oddly +important part in her awakening. + +"Where did they come from?" she suddenly asked. + +Mrs. Peck glanced up indifferently. "They're just those little common +things that grow with the pinks on the cliff," she said. + +But that did not satisfy Columbine. "Who brought them in?" she said. +"Who gathered them?" + +Mrs. Peck hesitated momentarily, almost as if she did not want to +answer. Then, half defiantly, "Why, Rufus, to be sure," she said. + +"Rufus!" A great hot wave of crimson suddenly suffused Columbine's +face--a pitiless, burning blush that spread tingling over her whole +body. + +She lay very still while it lasted, and Mrs. Peck set down the cup and, +rising energetically, began to tidy the room. + +At length, faintly, the girl spoke again: "Aunt Liza!" + +Mrs. Peck turned. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look half +stern and yet half compassionate. "There, my dear, that'll do," she +said. "I think you've talked enough. The doctor said as I was to keep +you very quiet, especially when you began to get back your senses. Shut +your eyes, do, and go to sleep!" + +But Columbine's eyes remained open. "I'm not sleepy," she said. "And I +must speak to you. I want to know--I must know"--she faltered painfully, +but forced herself to continue--"Rufus--did he--did he really come +back--that night?" + +Mrs. Peck's compassion perceptibly diminished and her severity +increased. "Oh, if you want the whole story," she said, "you'd better +have it and have done; that is, so far as I know it myself. There are +certain ins and outs that I don't know even yet, for Rufus can be very +secretive if he likes. Well then, yes, he did come back, and he brought +Mr. Knight with him. They were washed up by a great wave that dropped +'em high and dry near the quay. Mr. Knight was half drowned, and Rufus +left him at Sam Jefferson's cottage and came on here for brandy and hot +milk and such. He wasn't a penny the worse himself, but I suppose you +thought it was his ghost. You behaved like as if you did, anyway. That's +all I can tell you. Mr. Knight he got better in a day or two, and he's +gone, said he'd had enough of it, and I don't blame him neither. Now +that'll do for the present. By and by, when you're stronger, maybe I'll +ask you to tell me something. But the doctor says as I'm not to let you +talk at present." + +Mrs. Peck took up the empty cup with the words, and turned with decision +to the door. + +Columbine did not attempt to detain her. She had read the doubt in the +good woman's eyes, and she was thankful at that moment for the reprieve +that the doctor's fiat had secured her. + +She lay for a long, long time without moving after Mrs. Peck's +departure. Her brain felt unutterably weary, but it was clear, and she +was able to face the situation in all its grimness. Mr. Knight had +gone. Mr. Knight had had enough of it. Had he really left without a +word? Was she, then, so little to him as that? She, who had clung to +him, had offered him unconditionally and without stint all that was +hers! + +She remembered how he had said that it would not last, that love was +moonshine, love would pass. And how passionately--and withal how +fruitlessly!--had she revolted against that pronouncement of his! She +had declared that such was not love, and he--he had warned her against +loving too well, giving too freely. With cruel distinctness it all came +back to her. She felt again those hot kisses upon brow and lips and +throat. Though he had warned her against giving, he had not been slow to +take. He had revelled in the abandonment of that first free love of +hers. He had drained her of all that she held most precious that he +might drink his fill. And all for what? Again she burned from head to +foot, and, groaning, hid her face. All for the making of a picture that +should bring him world-wide fame! His love for her had been naught but +small change flung liberally enough that he might purchase therewith the +desire of his artist's soul. It had been just a means to an end. No more +than that! No more than that! + + * * * + +Time passed, but she knew naught of its passing. She was in a place of +bitterness very far removed from the ordinary things of life. She shed +no tears. The misery and shame that burned her soul were beyond all +expression or alleviation. She could have laughed over the irony of it +all more easily than she could have wept. + +That she--the proud and dainty, for whom no one had been good +enough--should have fallen thus easily to the careless attraction of a +man to whom she was nothing, nothing but a piece of prettiness to be +bought as cheaply as possible and treasured not at all. Some whim of +inspiration had moved him. He had obeyed his Muse. And he had been +ready--he had been ready--even to offer her life in sacrifice to his +idol. She did not count with him in the smallest degree. He had never +cared--he had never cared! + +She lifted her face at last. The torture was eating into her soul. It +was more than she could bear. All the tender words he had spoken, the +caresses he had lavished upon her, were as burning darts that pierced +her whichever way she turned. Her surrender had been so free, so +absolute, and in return he had left her in the dark. He had gone his +careless way without a single thought for all the fierce devotion she +had poured out to him. It had only appealed to him while the mood +lasted. And now he had had enough of it. He had gone. + +The murmur of the summer sea came to her as she lay, and she thought of +the Death Current. Why--ah, why--had it been cheated of its prey? She +shivered violently as the memory of that awful struggle in deep waters +came to her. She had been saved, how she scarcely realised, though deep +within her she knew--she knew! + +Her burning eyes fell upon the little wild white roses on the shelf. Why +had he brought them to her? Why had he chosen them? She felt as if they +held a message for her, but it was a message she did not dare to read. +And then again she quivered as the dread memory of that night swept over +her anew, and the eyes of flaming blue that had looked into hers. + +Somewhere--somewhere outside herself, it seemed to her--a voice was +speaking, very articulate and persistent, and she could not shut out the +words it uttered. She lacked the strength. + +"I always knew," it said, and it averred it over and over again, "as he +loved you like mad." + +Love! Love! But what was Love? Was any man capable of it? Was it ever +anything more than brutal passion or callous amusement? And hearts were +broken and lives were ruined to bring men sport. + +She clenched her hands, still gazing at the wild white roses with their +orange scent of purity. Why had he sent them? What had moved him to +gather them? He who had bargained with her, had wrung from her +submission to his will as it were at the sword's point! He who had +forced her to promise herself to him! What was love--or the making of +love--to such as he? + +The sweetness of the flowers seemed to pierce her. Ah, if they had only +been Knight's gift, how different--how different--had been all things. + +But they had come from Rufus. And so somehow their message passed her +by. The blackness of utter misery, utter hopelessness, closed in like a +prison-cell around her soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE SAFE HAVEN + + +In the days that followed, Mrs. Peck's honest soul was both vexed and +anxious concerning her charge. She found Columbine extraordinarily +reticent. As she herself put it, it was impossible to get any sense out +of her. + +In compliance with the doctor's order and by the exercise of extreme +self-restraint, she refrained from questioning her upon the matter of +her behaviour on the night of the great tide. That Columbine would have +enlightened her had she done so was exceedingly doubtful. But there was +no doubt that something very unusual had taken place. The little white +roses that Rufus presented as a daily offering would have told her that, +apart from any other indications. She would have questioned Rufus, but +something held her back; and Adam, when urged thereto, flatly refused to +interfere. + +Adam, rejuvenated and jubilant, went whistling about his work as of +yore. His boy had come back to him in the flesh, and he was more than +satisfied to leave things as they were. + +"Leave 'em alone, Missus!" was his counsel "Rufus he knows what he's +about. He'll steer a straight course, and he'll bring her into harbour +sooner or later. You leave it to him, and be thankful that curly-topped +chap has sheered off at last!" + +Mrs. Peck had no choice but to obey, but her anxiety regarding Columbine +did not diminish. The girl was so listless, so unlike herself, so +miserable. It was many days before she summoned the energy to dress, and +even then she displayed an almost painful reluctance to go downstairs. +She seemed to live in continual dread of some approaching ordeal. + +"I believe it's Rufus she's afraid of," was Mrs. Peck's verdict. + +But Adam scouted the idea as absurd. "What will you think of next, +woman? Why, any one can see as he's quiet and well-behaved enough for +any lass. She's missing the curly-topped chap a bit maybe. But she'll +get over that. Give her time! Give her time!" + +So Mrs. Peck gave her time and urged her not at all. She was not very +friendly with Columbine in those days. She disapproved of her, and her +manner said as much. She kept all suspicions to herself, but she could +not behave as if nothing had happened. + +"There's wild blood in her," she said darkly. "I mistrust her." + +And Columbine was fully aware of the fact, but she was too wretched to +resent it. In any case, she would never have turned to Mrs. Peck for +comfort. + +She came downstairs at last one summer evening when Mrs. Peck was busy +in the kitchen and no one was about. She had made no mention of her +intention; perhaps she wanted to be unhampered by observation. It had +been a soft, showery day, and there was the promise of more rain in the +sky. + +She moved wearily, but not without purpose; and soon she was walking +with a hood drawn over her head in the direction of the cliff-edge where +grew the sweet bog-myrtle and the little roses. + +She met no one by the way. It was nearing the hour for the evening meal, +nearing the hour when Mrs. Peck usually entered her room with the daily +offering of flowers that filled it with orange fragrance. Mrs. Peck was +not very fond of that particular task, though she never expressed her +reluctance. Well, she would not have it to accomplish tonight. + +A bare-legged, blue-jerseyed figure was moving in a bent attitude along +the slope that overlooked Rufus's cottage and the Spear Point. The girl +stood a moment gazing out over the curving reef as if she had not seen +it. The pool was smooth as a mirror, and reflecting the drifting clouds. +The tide was out. But, stay! It must be on the turn, for as she stood, +there came the deep, tolling note of the bell-buoy. It sounded like a +knell. + +As it struck solemnly over the water, the man straightened himself, and +in a moment he saw her. + +He did not move to meet her, merely stood motionless, nearly knee-deep +in the bog-myrtle, and waited for her, the white roses in one great, +clenched hand. And she, as if compelled, moved towards him, till at last +she reached and stood before him, white, mute, passive as a prisoner in +iron fetters. + +It was the man who spoke, with an odd jerkiness of tone and demeanour +that might have indicated embarrassment or even possibly some deeper +emotion. "So you've come along at last!" he said. + +She nodded. For an instant her dark eyes were raised, but they flashed +downwards again immediately, almost before they had met his own. + +Abruptly he thrust out to her the flowers he held. "I was getting these +for you." + +She took them in a trembling hand. She bent her face over them to hide +the piteous quivering of her lips. "Why--do you get them?" she whispered +almost inarticulately. + +He did not answer for a moment. Then: "Come down to my place!" he said. +"It's but a step." + +She made a swift gesture that had in it something of recoil, but the +next moment, without a word, she began to walk down the slope. + +He trod through the growth beside her, barefooted, unfaltering. His blue +eyes looked straight before him; they were unwavering and resolute as +the man himself. + +They reached the cottage. He made her enter it before him, and he +followed, but he did not close the door. Instead, he stopped and +deliberately hooked it back. + +Then, with the low call of the sea filling the humble little room, he +turned round to the girl, who stood with her head bent, awaiting his +pleasure. + +"Columbine," he said, and the name came with an unaccustomed softness +from his lips, "I've something to say to you. You've been hiding +yourself from me. I know. I know. And you needn't. Them flowers--I +gathered 'em and I sent 'em up to you every day, because I wanted you to +understand as you've nothing to fear from me. I wanted you to know as +everything is all right, and I mean well by you. I didn't know how to +tell you, and then I saw the roses growing outside the door, and I +thought as maybe they'd do it for me. They made me think of you somehow. +They were so white--and pure." + +"Ah!" The word was a wrung sound, half cry, half sob. His roses fell +suddenly and scattered upon the floor between them. Columbine's hands +covered her face. + +She stood for a second or two in tense silence, then under her breath +she spoke. "You don't believe--that--of me!" + +"I do, then," asserted Rufus, in his deep voice a note that was almost +aggressive. + +She lifted her face suddenly, even fiercely, showing him the shamed +blush that burned there. "You didn't believe it--that night!" she said. + +His eyes met hers with a certain stubbornness. "All right. I didn't," he +said. + +Her look became a challenge. "Then why--how--have you come to change +your mind?" + +He faced her steadily. "Maybe I know you better than I knew you then," +he said slowly. + +She made a sharp gesture as if pierced by an intolerable pain. "And +that--that has made a difference to your--your intentions!" + +He moved also at that. His red brows came together. "You're quite +wrong," he said, his voice very low. "That night--I know--I was beyond +myself, I was mad. But since then I've some to my senses. And--I love +you too much to harm you. That's the truth. I'd love you +anyway--whatever you were. It's just my nature to." + +His hands clenched with the words; he spoke with strong effort; but his +eyes looked deeply into hers, and they held no passion. They were still +and quiet as the summer sea below them. + +Columbine stood facing him as if at bay, but she must have felt the +influence of his restraint, for she showed no fear. "There's no such +thing as love," she said bitterly. "You dress it up and call it that. +But all the time it's something quite different. And I tell you +this"--recklessly she flung the words--"that if it hadn't been for that +tidal wave I'd be just what you took me for that night, what Aunt Liza +thinks I am this minute. I wasn't keeping back--anything, and"--she +uttered a sudden wild laugh--"if I've kept my virtue, I've lost my +innocence. I know--I know now--just what the thing you call love is +worth! And nothing will ever make me forget it!" + +She stopped, quivering from head to foot, passionate protest in every +line. + +But the blue eyes that watched her never wavered. The man's face was +rock-like in its steadfast calm. He did not speak for a full minute +after the utterance of her wild words. Then very steadily, very +forcibly, he answered her. "I'll tell you, shall I, what the thing I +call love is like?" He turned with a sweep of the arm and pointed out to +the harbour beyond the quay. "It's just like that. It's a wall to keep +off the storms. It's a safe haven where nothing hurtful can reach you. +You're not bound to give yourself to it, but once given you're safe." + +"Not bound!" Sharply she broke in upon him. "Not bound--when you made me +promise--" + +He dropped his arm to his side. "I set you free from that promise," he +said. + +Those few words, sombrely spoken, checked her wild outburst as surely as +a hand upon her mouth. She stood gazing at him for a space in utter +amazement, but gradually under his unchanging regard her look began to +fail. She turned at length with a little gasp, and sat down on the old +horsehair sofa, huddling herself together as if she desired to withdraw +herself from his observation. + +He did not stir, and a long, long silence fell between them, broken +only by the ticking of the grandfather-clock in the corner and the +everlasting murmur of the sea. + +The deep, warning note of the bell-buoy floated presently through the +summer silence, and as if in answer to a voice Rufus moved at last and +spoke. "You'd better go, lass. They'll be wondering about you. But don't +be afraid of me after this! I swear--before God--I'll give you no +cause!" + +She started a little at the sound of his voice, but she made no movement +to go. Her face was hidden in her hands. She rocked herself to and fro, +to and fro, as if in pain. + +He stood looking down at her with troubled eyes, but after a while, as +she did not speak, he moved to her side and stood there. At last, slowly +and massively, he stooped and touched her. + +"Columbine!" + +She made no direct response, only suddenly, as if his action had +released in her such a flood of emotion as was utterly beyond her +control, she broke into violent weeping, her head bowed low upon her +knees. + +"My dear!" he said. + +And then--how it came about neither of them ever knew--he was on his +knees beside her, holding her close in his great arms, and she was +sobbing out her agony upon his breast. + +It lasted for many minutes that storm of weeping. All the torment of +humiliation and grief, which till then had found no relief, was poured +out in that burning torrent of tears. She clung to him convulsively as +though she even yet struggled in the deep waters, and he held her +through it all with that sustaining strength that had borne her up +safely against the Death Current on that night of dreadful storm. + +Possibly the firm upholding of his arms brought back the memory of that +former terrible struggle, for it was of that that she first spoke when +speech became possible. + +"Oh, why didn't you leave me to die? Why--why--why?" + +He answered her in a voice that seemed to rise from the depths of the +broad chest that supported her. + +"I wanted you." + +She buried her face deeper that he might not see the cruel burning of +it. "So did he--then." + +"Not he!" The deep voice held unutterable contempt. "He wanted to make +his fortune out of you, that's all. He didn't care whether you lived or +died, the damn' cur!" + +She shrank at the fierce words, and was instantly aware of the jealous +closing of his arms about her. + +"You aren't going to break your heart for a dirty swab like that," he +said, with more of insistence than interrogation in his voice. "Look you +here, Columbine! You're too honest to care for a beast like that. +Why--though I pulled him out of the quicksand and saved him from the +sea--I'd have wrung his neck if he'd stayed another day. I would that." + +She started at the fiery declaration, and raised her head. "Oh, it was +you who sent him away, then?" + +Her look held almost desperate entreaty for a moment, but he met it with +the utmost grimness and it quickly died. + +"I didn't then," he said, with rough simplicity. "He made up his mind +without any help from me. He knew he couldn't face you again. It's not a +mite of good trying to deceive yourself now you know the truth. He's +gone, and he won't come back. Columbine, don't tell me as you want him +to!" + +His expression for the moment was formidable. She caught an ominous +gleam in the stern eyes, but almost immediately they softened. He +uttered a sigh that ended in a groan. "Now I'm being a brute to you, +when there's nothing that I wouldn't do for your sake." His voice shook +a little. "You won't believe it, but it's true--it's true." + +"Why shouldn't I believe it?" she said swiftly. She had begun to tremble +in his hold. + +He looked at her with an odd wistfulness. "Because I'm too big an +oaf--to make you understand," he said. + +"And that is why you have set me free?" she questioned. + +He bent his head, almost as if the sudden question embarrassed him. +"Yes, that," he said after a moment. "And because I care too much about +you to--marry you against your will." + +"And you call that love?" she said. + +He made a slight gesture of surprise. "It is love," he said simply. + +His arms were still around her, but she had only to move to be free. She +did not move, save that she quivered like a vibrating wire, quivered and +hid her face. + +"Rufus!" she said. + +"Yes?" His head was bent above hers, but he could only see her black +hair, so completely was her face averted from him. + +Her voice came, tensely whispering. "What if I were--willing to marry +you?" + +Something of her agitation had entered into him. A great quiver went +through him also. But--"You're not," he said quietly, with conviction. + +A trembling hand strayed upwards, feeling over his neck and throat, +groping for his face. "Rufus"--again came the tense whisper--"how do you +know that?" + +He took the wandering hand and pressed it softly against his cheek. +"Because you don't love me, Columbine," he said. + +"Ah!" A low sob escaped her; she lifted her head suddenly; the tears +were running down her face. "But--but--you could teach me, Rufus. You +could teach me what love--true love--is. I want the real thing--the real +thing. Will you give it to me? I want it--more than anything else in +the world." She drew nearer to him with the words, like a frozen +creature seeking warmth, and in a moment her arms were slipping round +his neck. "You are so true--so strong!" she sobbed. "I want to forget--I +want to forget that I ever loved--any one but you." + +His arms were close about her again. He pressed her so hard against his +heart that she felt its strong beating against her own. His eyes gazed +straight into hers, and in them she saw again that deep, deep blue as of +flaming spirit. + +"You mean it?" he said. + +Breathlessly she answered him. "Yes, I mean it." + +"Then"--he bent his great head to her, and for the fraction of a moment +she saw the meteor-like flash of his smile--"yes, I'll teach you, +Columbine," he said. + +With the words he kissed her on the lips, kissed her closely, kissed her +lingeringly, and in that kiss her torn heart found its first balm of +healing. + + * * * + +"Well, what did I say?" crowed Adam a little later. "Didn't I tell you +if you left 'em alone he'd steer her safe into harbour? Wasn't I right, +missus? Wasn't I right?" + +"I'm not gainsaying it," said Mrs. Peck, with a touch of severity. "And +I'm sure I hope as all will turn out for the best." + +"Turn out for the best? Why, o' course it will!" said Adam, with cheery +confidence. "My son Rufus he may be slow, but he's no fool. And he's a +good man, too, missus, a long sight better than that curly-topped chap. +Him and me's partners, so I ought to know." + +"To be sure you ought," said Mrs. Peck tolerantly. "And it's to be hoped +that Columbine knows it as well." + +And in the solitude of her own room Columbine bent her dainty head and +kissed with reverence the little wild white roses that spoke to her of +the purity of a good man's love. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE MAGIC CIRCLE + + +The persistent chirping of a sparrow made it almost harder to bear. Lady +Brooke finally rose abruptly from the table, her black brows drawn close +together, and swept to the window to scare the intruder away. + +"I really have not the smallest idea what your objections can be," she +observed, pausing with her back to the room. + +"A little exercise of your imagination might be of some assistance to +you," returned her husband dryly, not troubling to raise his eyes from +his paper. + +He was leaning back in a chair in an attitude of unstudied ease. It was +characteristic of Sir Roland Brooke to make himself physically +comfortable at least, whatever his mental atmosphere. He seldom raised +his voice, and never swore. Yet there was about him a certain amount of +force that made itself felt more by his silence than his speech. + +His young wife, though she shrugged her shoulders and looked +contemptuous, did not venture upon open defiance. + +"I am to decline the invitation, then?" she asked presently, without +turning. + +"Certainly!" Sir Roland again made leisurely reply as he scanned the +page before him. + +"And give as an excuse that you are too staunch a Tory to approve of +such an innovation as the waltz?" + +"You may give any excuse that you consider suitable," he returned with +unruffled composure. + +"I know of none," she answered, with a quick vehemence that trembled on +the edge of rebellion. + +Sir Roland turned very slowly in his chair and regarded the delicate +outline of his wife's figure against the window-frame. + +"Then, my dear," he said very deliberately, "let me recommend you once +more to have recourse to your ever romantic imagination!" + +She quivered, and clenched her hands, as if goaded beyond endurance. +"You do not treat me fairly," she murmured under her breath. + +Sir Roland continued to look at her with the air of a naturalist +examining an interesting specimen of his cult. He said nothing till, +driven by his scrutiny, she turned and faced him. + +"What is your complaint?" he asked then. + +She hesitated for an instant. There was doubt--even a hint of +fear--upon her beautiful face. Then, with a certain recklessness, she +spoke: + +"I have been accustomed to freedom of action all my life. I never +dreamed, when I married you, that I should be called upon to sacrifice +this." + +Her voice quivered. She would not meet his eyes. Sir Roland sat and +passively regarded her. His face expressed no more than a detached and +waning interest. + +"I am sorry," he said finally, "that the romance of your marriage has +ceased to attract you. But I was not aware that its hold upon you was +ever very strong." + +Lady Brooke made a quick movement, and broke into a light laugh. + +"It certainly did not fall upon very fruitful ground," she said. "It is +scarcely surprising that it did not flourish." + +Sir Roland made no response. The interest had faded entirely from his +face. He looked supremely bored. + +Lady Brooke moved towards the door. + +"It seems to be your pleasure to thwart me at every turn," she said. "A +labourer's wife has more variety in her existence than I." + +"Infinitely more," said Sir Roland, returning to his paper. "A +labourer's wife, my dear, has an occasional beating to chasten her +spirit, and she is considerably the better for it." + +His wife stood still, very erect and queenly. + +"Not only the better, but the happier," she said very bitterly. "Even a +dog would rather be beaten than kicked to one side." + +Sir Roland lowered his paper again with startling suddenness. + +"Is that your point of view?" he said. "Then I fear I have been +neglecting my duty most outrageously. However, it is an omission easily +remedied. Let me hear no more of this masquerade, Lady Brooke! You have +my orders, and if you transgress them you will be punished in a fashion +scarcely to your liking. Is that clearly understood?" + +He looked straight up at her with cold, smiling eyes that yet seemed to +convey a steely warning. + +She shivered very slightly as she encountered them. "You make a mockery +of everything," she said, her voice very low. + +Sir Roland uttered a quiet laugh. + +"I am nevertheless a man of my word, Naomi," he said. "If you wish to +test me, you have your opportunity." + +He immersed himself finally in his paper as he ended, and she, with a +smile of proud contempt, turned and passed from the room. + +She had married him out of pique, it was true, but life with him had +never seemed intolerable until he had shown her that he knew it. + +She took her invitation with her, and in her own room sat down to read +it once again. It was from a near neighbour, Lady Blythebury, an +acquaintance with whom she was more intimate than was Sir Roland. Lady +Blythebury was a very lively person indeed. She had been on the stage in +her young days, and she had decidedly advanced ideas on the subject of +social entertainment. As a hostess, she was notorious for her +originality and energy, and though some of the county families +disapproved of her, she always knew how to secure as many guests as she +desired. Lady Brooke had known her previous to her own marriage, and she +clung to this friendship, notwithstanding Sir Roland's very obvious lack +of sympathy. + +He knew Lord Blythebury in the hunting-field. Their properties adjoined, +and it was inevitable that certain courtesies should be exchanged. But +he refused so steadily to fall a captive to Lady Blythebury's bow and +spear, that he very speedily aroused her aversion. He soon realised that +her influence over his wife was very far from benevolent towards +himself, but, save that he persisted in declining all social invitations +to Blythebury, he made no attempt to counteract the evil. In fact, it +was not his custom to coerce her. He denied her very little, though with +regard to that little he was as adamant. + +But to Naomi his non-interference was many a time more galling than his +interdiction. It was but seldom that she attempted to oppose him, and, +save that Lady Blythebury's masquerade had been discussed between them +for weeks, she would not have greatly cared for his refusal to attend +it. When Sir Roland asserted himself, it was her habit to yield without +argument. + +But now, for the first time, she asked herself if he were not presuming +upon her wifely submission. He would think more of her if she resisted +him, whispered her hurt pride, recalling the courteous indifference +which it was his custom to mete out to her. But dared she do this +thing? + +She took up the invitation again and read it. It was to be a fancy-dress +ball, and all were to wear masks. The waltz which she had learned to +dance from Lady Blythebury herself and which was only just coming into +vogue in England, was to be one of the greatest features of the evening. +There would be no foolish formality, Lady Blythebury had assured her. +The masks would preclude that. Altogether the whole entertainment +promised to be of so entrancing a nature that she had permitted herself +to look forward to it with considerable pleasure. But she might have +guessed that Sir Roland would refuse to go, she reflected, as she sat in +her dainty room with the invitation before her. Did he ever attend any +function that was not so stiff and dull that she invariably pined to +depart from the moment of arrival? + +Again she read the invitation, recalling Lady Blythebury's gay words +when last they had talked the matter over. + +"If only Una could come without the lion for once!" she had said. + +And she herself had almost echoed the wish. Sir Roland always spoilt +everything. + +Well!--She took up her pen. She supposed she must refuse. A moment it +hovered above the paper. Then, very slowly, it descended and began to +write. + + * * * + +The chatter of many voices and the rhythm of dancing feet, the strains +of a string-band in the distance, and, piercing all, the clear, high +notes of a flute, filled the spring night with wonderful sound. Lady +Blythebury had turned her husband's house into a fairy palace of +delight. She stood in the doorway of the ballroom, her florid face +beaming above her Elizabethan ruffles, looking in upon the gay and +ever-shifting scene which she had called into being. + +"I feel as if I had stepped into an Arabian Night," she laughed to one +of her guests, who stood beside her. He was dressed as a court jester, +and carried a wand which he flourished dramatically. He wore a +close-fitting black mask. + +"There is certainly magic abroad," he declared, in a rich, Irish brogue +that Lady Blythebury smiled to hear. For she also was Irish to the +backbone. + +"You know something of the art yourself, Captain Sullivan?" she asked. + +She knew the man for a friend of her husband's. He was more or less +disreputable, she believed, but he was none the less welcome on that +account. It was just such men as he who knew how to make things a +success. She relied upon the disreputable more than she would have +admitted. + +"Egad, I'm no novice in most things!" declared the court jester, waving +his wand bombastically. "But it's the magic of a pretty woman that I'm +after at the present moment. These masks, Lady Blythebury, are uncommon +inconvenient. It's yourself that knows better than to wear one. Sure, +beauty should never go veiled." + +Lady Blythebury laughed indulgently. Though she knew it for what it was, +the fellow's blarney was good to hear. + +"Ah, go and dance!" she said. "I've heard all that before. It never +means anything. Go and dance with the little lady over there in the pink +domino! I give you my word that she is pretty. Her name is Una, but she +is minus the lion on this occasion. I shall tell you no more than that." + +"Egad! It's more than enough!" said the court jester, as he bowed and +moved away. + +The lady indicated stood alone in the curtained embrasure of a +bay-window. She was watching the dancers with an absorbed air, and did +not notice his approach. + +He drew near, walking with a free swagger in time to the haunting +waltz-music. Reaching her, he stopped and executed a sweeping bow, his +hand upon his heart. + +"May I have the pleasure--" + +She looked up with a start. Her eyes shone through her mask with a +momentary irresolution as she bent in response to his bow. + +With scarcely a pause he offered her his arm. + +"You dance the waltz?" + +She hesitated for a second; then, with an affirmatory murmur, accepted +the proffered arm. The bold stare with which he met her look had in it +something of compulsion. + +He led her instantly away from her retreat, and in a moment his hand was +upon her waist. He guided her into the gay stream of dancers without a +word. + +They began to waltz--a dream--waltz in which she seemed to float without +effort, without conscious volition. Instinctively she responded to his +touch, keenly, vibrantly aware of the arm that supported her, of the +dark, free eyes that persistently sought her own. + +"Faith!" he suddenly said in his soft, Irish voice. "To find Una without +the lion is a piece of good fortune I had scarcely prayed for. And what +was the persuasion that you used at all to keep the monster in his den?" + +She glanced up, half-startled by his speech. What did this man know +about her? + +"If you mean my husband," she said at last, "I did not persuade him. He +never wished or intended to come." + +Her companion laughed as one well pleased. + +"Very generous of him!" he commented, in a tone that sent the blood to +her cheeks. + +He guided her dexterously among the dancers. The girl's breath came +quickly, unevenly, but her feet never faltered. + +"If I were the lion," said her partner daringly, "by the powers, I'd +play the part! I wouldn't be a tame beast, egad! If Una went out to a +fancy ball, my faith, I would go too!" + +Lady Brooke uttered a little, excited laugh. The words caught her +interest. + +"And suppose Una went without your leave?" she said. + +The Irishman looked at her with a humorous twist at one corner of his +mouth. + +"I'm thinking that I'd still go too," he said. + +"But if you didn't know?" She asked the question with a curious +vehemence. Her instinct told her that, however he might profess to +trifle, here at least was a man. + +"That wouldn't happen," he said, with conviction, "if I were the lion." + +The music was quickening to the _finale_, and she felt the strong arm +grow tense about her. + +"Come!" he said. "We will go into the garden." + +She went with him because it seemed that she must, but deep in her heart +there lurked a certain misgiving. There was an almost arrogant air of +power about this man. She wondered what Sir Roland would say if he knew, +and comforted herself almost immediately with the reflection that he +never could know. He had gone to Scotland, and she did not expect him +back for several weeks. + +So she turned aside with this stranger, and passed out upon his arm into +the dusk of the soft spring night. + +"You know these gardens well?" he questioned. + +She came out of her meditations. + +"Not really well. Lady Blythebury and I are friends, but we do not visit +very often." + +"And that but secretly," he laughed, "when the lion is absent?" She did +not answer him, and he continued after a moment: "'Pon my life, the +very mention of him seems to cast a cloud. Let us draw a magic circle, +and exclude him!" He waved his wand. "You knew that I was a magician?" + +There was a hint of something more than banter in his voice. They had +reached the end of the terrace, and were slowly descending the steps. +But at his last words, Lady Brooke stood suddenly still. + +"I only believe in one sort of magic," she said, "and that is beyond the +reach of all but fools." + +Her voice quivered with an almost passionate disdain. She was suddenly +aware of an intense burning misery that seemed to gnaw into her very +soul. Why had she come out with this buffoon, she wondered? Why had she +come to the masquerade at all? She was utterly out of sympathy with its +festive gaiety. A great and overmastering desire for solitude descended +upon her. She turned almost angrily to go. + +But in the same instant the jester's hand caught her own. + +"Even so, lady," he said. "But the magic of fools has led to paradise +before now." + +She laughed out bitterly: + +"A fool's paradise!" + +"Is ever green," he said whimsically. "Faith, it's no place at all for +cynics. Shall we go hand in hand to find it then--in case you miss the +way?" + +She laughed again at the quaint adroitness of his speech. But her lips +were curiously unsteady, and she found the darkness very comforting. +There was no moon, and the sky was veiled. She suffered the strong clasp +of his fingers about her own without protest. What did it matter--for +just one night? + +"Where are we going?" she asked. + +"Wait till we get there!" murmured her companion. "We are just within +the magic circle. Una has escaped from the lion." + +She felt turf beneath her feet, and once or twice the brushing of twigs +against her hand. She began to have a faint suspicion as to whither he +was leading her. But she would not ask a second time. She had yielded to +his guidance, and though her heart fluttered strangely she would not +seem to doubt. The dread of Sir Roland's displeasure had receded to the +back of her mind. Surely there was indeed magic abroad that night! It +seemed diffused in the very air she breathed. In silence they moved +along the dim grass path. From far away there came to them fitfully the +sound of music, remote and wonderful, like straying echoes of paradise. +A soft wind stirred above them, lingering secretly among opening leaves. +There was a scent of violets almost intoxicatingly sweet. + +The silence seemed magnetic. It held them like a spell. Through it, +vague and intangible as the night at first, but gradually taking +definite shape, strange thoughts began to rise in the girl's heart. + +She had consented to this adventure from sheer lack of purpose. But +whither was it leading her? She was a married woman, with her shackles +heavy upon her. Yet she walked that night with a stranger, as one who +owned her freedom. The silence between them was intimate and wonderful, +the silence which only kindred spirits can ever know. It possessed her +magically, making her past life seem dim and shadowy, and the present +only real. + +And yet she knew that she was not free. She trespassed on forbidden +ground. She tasted the forbidden fruit, and found it tragically sweet. + +Suddenly and softly he spoke: + +"Does the magic begin to work?" + +She started and tried to stop. Surely it were wiser to go back while she +had the will! But he drew her forward still. The mist overhead was +faintly silver. The moon was rising. + +"We will go to the heart of the tangle," he said. "There is nothing to +fear. The lion himself could not frighten you here." + +Again she yielded to him. There was a suspicion of raillery in his voice +that strangely reassured her. The grasp of his hand was very close. + +"We are in the maze," she said at last, breaking her silence. "Are you +sure of the way?" + +He answered her instantly with complete self-assurance. + +"Like the heart of a woman, it's hard, that it is, to find. But I think +I have the key. And if not, by the saints, I'm near enough now to break +through." + +The words thrilled her inexplicably. Truly the magic was swift and +potent. A few more steps, and she was aware of a widening of the hedge. +They were emerging into the centre of the maze. + +"Ah," said the jester, "I thought I should win through!" + +He led her forward into the shadow of a great tree. The mist was passing +very slowly from the sky. By the silvery light that filtered down from +the hidden moon Naomi made out the strong outline of his shoulders as he +stood before her, and the vague darkness of his mask. + +She put up her free hand and removed her own. The breeze had died down. +The atmosphere was hushed and airless. + +"Do you know the way back?" she asked him, in a voice that sounded +unnatural even to herself. + +"Do you want to go back, then?" he queried keenly. + +There was something in his tone--a subtle something that she had not +detected before. She began to tremble. For the first time, actual fear +took hold of her. + +"You must know the way back!" she exclaimed. "This is folly! They will +be wondering where we are." + +"Faith, Lady Una! It is the fool's paradise," he told her coolly. "They +will not wonder. They know too well that there is no way back." + +His manner terrified her. Its very quietness seemed a menace. +Desperately she tore herself from his hold, and turned to escape. But it +was as though she fled in a nightmare. Whichever way she turned she met +only the impenetrable ramparts of the hedge that surrounded her. She +could find neither entrance nor exit. It was as though the way by which +she had come had been closed behind her. + +But the brightness above was growing. She whispered to herself that she +would soon be able to see, that she could not be a prisoner for long. + +Suddenly she heard her captor close to her, and, turning in terror, she +found him erect and dominating against the hedge. With a tremendous +effort she controlled her rising panic to plead with him. + +"Indeed, I must go back!" she said, her voice unsteady, but very urgent. +"I have already stayed too long. You cannot wish to keep me here against +my will?" + +She saw him shrug his shoulders slightly. + +"There is no way back," he said, "or, if there is, I do not know it." + +There was no dismay in his voice, but neither was there exultation. He +simply stated the fact with absolute composure. Her heart gave a wild +throb of misgiving. Was the man wholly sane? + +Again she caught wildly at her failing courage, and drew herself up to +her full height. Perhaps she might awe him, even yet. + +"Sir," she said, "I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. And I--" + +"Egad!" he broke in banteringly, "that was yesterday. You are free +to-day. I have brought you out of bondage. We have found paradise +together, and, my pretty Lady Una, there is no way back." + +"But there is, there is!" she cried desperately. "And I must find it! I +tell you I am Sir Roland Brooke's wife. I belong to him. No one can keep +me from him!" + +It was as though she beat upon an iron door. + +"There is no way out of the magic circle," said the jester inexorably. + +A white shaft of light illumined the mist above them, revealing the +girl's pale face, making sinister the man's masked one. He seemed to be +smiling. He bent towards her. + +"You seem amazingly fond of your chains," he said softly. "And yet, from +what I have heard, Sir Roland is no gentle tyrant. How is it, pretty +one? What makes you cling to your bondage so?" + +"He is my husband!" she said, through white lips. + +"Faith, that is no answer," he declared. "Own, now, that you hate him, +that you loathe his presence and shudder at his touch! I told you I was +a magician, Lady Una; but you wouldn't believe me at all." + +She confronted him with a sudden fury that marvellously reinforced her +failing courage. + +"You lie, sir!" she cried, stamping passionately upon the soft earth. "I +do none of these things. I have never hated him. I have never shrunk +from his touch. We have not understood each other, perhaps, but that is +a different matter, and no concern of yours." + +"He has not made you happy," said the jester persistently. "You will +never go back to him now that you are free!" + +"I will go back to him!" she cried stormily. "How dare you say such a +thing to me? How dare you?" + +He came nearer to her. + +"Listen!" he said. "It is deliverance that I am offering you. I ask +nothing at all in return, simply to make you happy, and to teach you the +blessed magic which now you scorn. Faith! It's the greatest game in the +world, Lady Una; and it only takes two players, dear, only two players!" + +There was a subtle, caressing quality in his voice. His masked face was +bending close to hers. She felt trapped and helpless, but she forced +herself to stand her ground. + +"You insult me!" she said, her voice quivering, but striving to be calm. + +"Never a bit!" he declared. "Since I am the truest friend you have!" + +She drew away from him with a gesture of repulsion. + +"You insult me!" she said again. "I have my husband, and I need no +other." + +He laughed sneeringly, the insinuating banter all gone from his manner. + +"You know he is nothing to you," he said. "He neglects you. He bullies +you. You married him because you wanted to be a married woman. Be +honest, now! You never loved him. You do not know what love is!" + +"It is false!" she cried. "I will not listen to you. Let me go!" + +He took a sudden step forward. + +"You refuse deliverance?" he questioned harshly. + +She did not retreat this time, but faced him proudly. + +"I do!" + +"Listen!" he said again, and his voice was stern. "Sir Roland Brooke has +returned home. He knows that you have disobeyed him. He knows that you +are here with me. You will not dare to face him. You have gone too far +to return." + +She gasped hysterically, and tottered for an instant, but recovered +herself. + +"I will--I will go back!" she said. + +"He will beat you like a labourer's wife," warned the jester. "He may do +worse." + +She was swaying as she stood. + +"He will do--as he sees fit," she said. + +He stooped a little lower. + +"I would make you happy, Lady Una," he whispered. "I would protect +you--shelter you--love you!" + +She flung out her hands with a wild and desperate gesture. The +magnetism of his presence had become horrible to her. + +"I am going to him--now," she said. + +Behind him she saw, in the brightening moonlight, the opening which she +had vainly sought a few minutes before. She sprang for it, darting past +him like a frightened bird seeking refuge, and in another moment she was +lost in the green labyrinths. + + * * * + +The moonlight had become clear and strong, casting black shadows all +about her. Twice, in her frantic efforts to escape, she ran back into +the centre of the maze. The jester had gone, but she imagined him +lurking behind every corner, and she impotently recalled his words: +"There is no way out of the magic circle." + +At last, panting and exhausted, she knew that she was unwinding the +puzzle. Often as its intricacies baffled her, she kept her head, +rectifying each mistake and pressing on, till the wider curve told her +that she was very near the entrance. She came upon it finally quite +suddenly, and found herself, to her astonishment, close to the terrace +steps. + +She mounted them with trembling limbs, and paused a moment to summon her +composure. Then, outwardly calm, she traversed the terrace and entered +the house. + +Lady Blythebury was dancing, and she felt she could not wait. She +scribbled a few hasty words of farewell, and gave them to a servant as +she entered her carriage. Hers was the first departure, and no one +noted it. + +She sank back at length, thankfully, in the darkness, and closed her +eyes. Whatever lay before her, she had escaped from the nightmare horror +of the shadowy garden. + +But as the brief drive neared its end, her anxiety revived. Had Sir +Roland indeed returned and discovered her absence? Was it possible? + +Her face was white and haggard as she entered the hall at last. Her eyes +were hunted. + +The servant who opened to her looked at her oddly for a moment. + +"What is it?" she said nervously. + +"Sir Roland has returned, my lady," he said. "He arrived two hours ago, +and went straight to his room, saying he would not disturb your +ladyship." + +She turned away in silence, and mounted the stairs. Did he know? Had he +guessed? Was it that that had brought him back? + +She entered her room, and dismissed the maid she found awaiting her. + +Swiftly she threw off the pink domino, and began to loosen her hair with +stiff, fumbling fingers, then shook it about her shoulders, and sank +quivering upon a couch. She could not go to bed. The terror that +possessed her was too intense, too overmastering. + +Ah! What was that? Every pulse in her body leaped and stood still at +sound of a low knock at the door. Who could it be? gasped her fainting +heart. Not Sir Roland, surely! He never came to her room now. + +Softly the door opened. It was Sir Roland and none other--Sir Roland +wearing an old velvet smoking--jacket, composed as ever, his grey eyes +very level and inscrutable. + +He paused for a single instant upon the threshold, then came noiselessly +in and closed the door. + +Naomi sat motionless and speechless. She lacked the strength to rise. +Her hands were pressed upon her heart. She thought its beating would +suffocate her. + +He came quietly across the room to her, not seeming to notice her +agitation. + +"I should not have disturbed you at this hour if I had not been sure +that you were awake," he said. + +Reaching her, he bent and touched her white cheek. + +"Why, child, how cold you are!" he said. + +She started violently back, and then, as a sudden memory assailed her, +she caught his hand and held it for an instant. + +"It is nothing," she said with an effort. "You--you startled me." + +"You are nervous tonight," said Sir Roland. + +She shrank under his look. + +"You see, I did not expect you," she murmured. + +"Evidently not." Sir Roland stood gravely considering her. "I came +back," he said, after a moment, "because it occurred to me that you +might be lonely after all, in spite of your assurance to the contrary. +I did not ask you to accompany me, Naomi. I did not think you would care +to do so. But I regretted it later, and I have come back to remedy the +omission. Will you come with me to Scotland?" + +His tone was quiet and somewhat formal, but there was in it a kindliness +that sent the blood pulsing through her veins in a wave of relief even +greater than her astonishment at his words. He did not know, then. That +was her one all-possessing thought. He could not know, or he had not +spoken to her thus. + +She sat slowly forward, drawing her hair about her shoulders like a +cloak. She felt for the moment an overpowering weakness, and she could +not look up. + +"I will come, of course," she said at last, her voice very low, "if you +wish it." + +Sir Roland did not respond at once. Then, as his silence was beginning +to disquiet her again, he laid a steady hand upon the shadowing hair. + +"My dear," he said gently, "have you no wishes upon the subject?" + +Again she started at his touch, and again, as if to rectify the start, +drew ever so slightly nearer to him. It was many, many days since she +had heard that tone from him. + +"My wishes are yours," she told him faintly. + +His hand was caressing her softly, very softly. Again he was silent for +a while, and into her heart there began to creep a new feeling that +made her gradually forget the immensity of her relief. She sat +motionless, save that her head drooped a little lower, ever a little +lower. + +"Naomi," he said, at last, "I have been thinking a good deal lately. We +seem to have been wandering round and round in a circle. I have been +wondering if we could not by any means find a way out?" + +She made a sharp, involuntary movement. What was this that he was saying +to her? + +"I don't quite understand," she murmured. + +His hand pressed a little upon her, and she knew that he was bending +down. + +"You are not happy," he said, with grave conviction. + +She could not contradict him. + +"It is my own fault," she managed to say, without lifting her head. + +"I do not think so," he returned, "at least, not entirely. I know that +there have frequently been times when you have regretted your marriage. +For that you were not to blame." He paused an instant. "Naomi," he said, +a new note in his voice, "I think I am right in believing that, +notwithstanding this regret, you do not in your heart wish to leave me?" + +She quivered, and hid her face in silence. + +He waited a few seconds, and finally went on as if she had answered in +the affirmative. + +"That being so, I have a foundation on which to build. I would not ask +of you anything which you feel unable to grant. But there is only one +way for us to get out of the circle that I can see. Will you take it +with me, Naomi? Shall we go away together, and leave this miserable +estrangement behind us?" + +His voice was low and tender. Yet she felt instinctively that he had not +found it easy to expose his most sacred reserve thus. She moved +convulsively, trying to answer him, trying for several unworthy moments +to accept in silence the shelter his generosity had offered her. But her +efforts failed, for she had not been moulded for deception; and this new +weapon of his had cut her to the heart. Heavy, shaking sobs overcame +her. + +"Hush!" he said. "Hush! I never dreamed you felt it so." + +"Ah, you don't know me!" she whispered. "I--I am not what you think me. +I have disobeyed you, deceived you, cheated you!" Humbled to the earth, +she made piteous, halting confession before her tyrant. "I was at the +masquerade tonight. I waltzed--and afterwards went into the maze--in the +dark--with a stranger--who made love to me. I never--meant you--to +know." + +Silence succeeded her words, and, as she waited for him to rise and +spurn her, she wondered how she had ever brought herself to utter them. +But she would not have recalled them even then. He moved at last, but +not as she had anticipated. He gathered the tumbled hair back from her +face, and, bending over her, he spoke. Even in her agony of +apprehension she noted the curious huskiness of his voice. + +"And yet you told me," he said. "Why?" + +She could not answer him, nor could she raise her face. He was not +angry, she knew now; but yet she felt that she could not meet his eyes. + +There was a short silence, then he spoke again, close to her ear: + +"You need not have told me, Naomi." + +The words amazed her. With a great start of bewilderment she lifted her +head and looked at him. He put his hands upon her shoulders. She thought +she saw a smile hovering about his lips, but it was of a species she had +never seen there before. + +"Because," he explained gently, "I knew." + +She stared at him in wonder, scarcely breathing, the tears all gone from +her eyes. + +"You--knew!" she said slowly, at last. + +"Yes, I knew," he said. He looked deep into her eyes for seconds, and +then she felt him drawing her irresistibly to him. She yielded herself +as driftwood yields to a racing flood, no longer caring for the +interpretation of the riddle, scarcely remembering its existence; heard +him laugh above her head--a brief, exultant laugh--as he clasped her. +And then came his lips upon her own.... + +"You see, dear," he said later, a quiver that was not all laughter in +his voice, "it is not so remarkably wonderful, after all, that I should +know all about it, when you come to consider that I was there--there +with you in the magic circle all the time." + +"You were there!" she echoed, turning in his arms. "But how was it I +never knew? Why did I not see you?" + +"Faith, sweetheart, I think you did!" said Sir Roland. Then, at her +quick cry of amazed understanding: "I wanted to teach you a lesson, but, +sure, I'm thinking it's myself that learned one, after all." And, as she +clung to him, still hardly believing: "We have found our paradise +together, my Lady Una," he whispered softly. "And, love, there is no way +back." + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE LOOKER-ON + + +I + +"Oh, I'm going to be Lady Jane Grey," said Charlie Cleveland, balancing +himself on the deck-rail in front of his friends, Mrs. Langdale and +Mollie Erle, with considerable agility. "And, Mollie, I say, will you +lend me a black silk skirt? I saw you were wearing one last night." + +He spoke with complete seriousness. It was this boy's way to infuse into +all his actions an enthusiasm that deprived the most trifling of the +commonplace element. He was the gayest passenger on board--the very life +of the boat. Yet he had few accomplishments to recommend him, his +abundant spirits alone attaining for him the popularity he everywhere +enjoyed. + +Molly Erle, who with Mrs. Langdale was returning home after spending the +winter with some friends at Calcutta, regarded him with a toleration not +wholly devoid of contempt. He apparently deemed it necessary to pay her +a good deal of attention, and Molly was strongly determined to keep him +at a distance--a matter, by the way, that had its difficulties in face +of young Cleveland's romping lack of ceremony. + +"Yes, you may have the skirt," she said with a generosity not wholly +spontaneous, as he waited expectantly for a reply to his request. + +"Ah, good!" he said effusively. "That is a great weight off my mind. And +may I have Number Ten on your programme?" + +"Are you going to dance?" asked Mrs. Langdale, with a half-suppressed +laugh. + +He turned upon her, grinning openly. + +"No. Fisher says I mustn't. I'm going to sit out, dear Mrs. Langdale--a +modest wall-flower for once. I hope you will all be very kind to me. +Have you made a note of Number Ten, Molly--I mean, Miss Erle? No? But +you will, though. Ah! Thanks, awfully! Here comes Fisher! I wish you +would persuade him to do Guildford Dudley. I can't." + +He bounced off the rail and departed, laughing. + +Molly looked after him with slight disapprobation on her pretty face. He +was such a thoroughly nice boy. She wished with almost unreasonable +intensity that he possessed more of that sterling quality, solidity, for +which his travelling companion, Fisher, was chiefly noteworthy. + +Captain Fisher approached them with a casual air as if he had drifted +their way by accident. He was one of those oppressively quiet men who +possess the unhappy knack of appearing wholly out of touch with all +social surroundings. There was a reticence about him which almost all +took for surliness, but which was in reality merely a somewhat +unattractive mixture of awkwardness and laziness. + +He was in the Royal Engineers, and believed to be a very clever man in +his profession. But there was never anything in the least bright or +original in his conversation. Yet, for some vague reason, Molly credited +him with the ability to do great deeds, and was particularly gracious to +him. + +Mrs. Langdale, who was lively herself, infinitely preferred Charlie +Cleveland's boisterous company, and on the present occasion she rose to +follow him with great promptitude. + +"I must find out how he has managed the rest of his costume," she said +to Molly. "It is sure to be strikingly original--like himself." + +The contempt deepened a little on Molly's face, contempt and regret--an +odd mixture. + +"He is very funny, no doubt," she said; "but I think one gets a little +tired of his perpetual gaiety. I don't think we should find him so +delightful if a storm came on. I haven't much faith in those people who +can never take anything really seriously. I believe he would die +laughing." + +"All the better," declared Mrs. Langdale, who loved Charlie's impetuous +ways with maternal tolerance. "It is always better to laugh than cry, my +dear; though it isn't always easier by any means." + +She departed with the words, laughing a little to herself at Molly's +critical mood; and Captain Fisher went and sat stolidly down beside +Molly, who turned to him with an instant smile of welcome. She was the +only lady on board who was never bored by this man's quiet society. She +liked him thoroughly, finding the contrast between him and his volatile +friend a great relief. + +Fisher never talked frivolities; indeed, he seldom talked at all. Yet to +Molly the hour he spent beside her on that sunny day in the +Mediterranean passed as pleasantly and easily as she could have desired. + +Captain Fisher might seem heavy to others, but never to her--a fact of +which secretly she was rather proud. + + +II + +"Come up on deck!" whispered Charlie in an eager undertone. "There's no +one there, and the night is divine." + +Molly Erie looked at the strange figure in fancy-dress beside her and +laughed aloud. She had not allowed Charlie a _tete-a-tete_ for many +days, but she felt that he could scarcely attempt to be sentimental in +that costume. + +She went with him, therefore, thinking what a pretty girl he would have +made. + +Charlie led her to the deck-rail. His ridiculous figure was less +obtrusively absurd in the dim light. His laughing voice, lowered +half-confidently, half-reverently, sounded less inconsequent than was +its wont. + +Suddenly he turned to her and spoke with wholly unexpected vehemence. + +"I can't keep it in," he said. "You've got to know it. Molly, I love you +most awfully. You do know it, I believe, without being told. Why do you +always run away and hide when I try to speak?" + +He spoke quickly, jerkily. She glanced at him with a nervous movement as +she drew back. He was not laughing for once, yet she fancied there was +the shadow of a smile quivering about his face. Possibly it was an +illusion. The dim light made everything indefinite. But the suspicion +roused in her in full strength her prejudice against him. She drew back +deliberately, and her anger grew from scorn to cruelty during the +moments that intervened between his question and her answer. + +"You have chosen a very appropriate occasion," she remarked icily at +length. "Do you imagine yourself irresistible when playing the fool, I +wonder?" + +He faced round on her. + +"I have taken the only opportunity I could get," he said. "I am a slave +of circumstance. If I had come to you in rational costume you would not +have consented to sit out with me." + +There was a ring of laughter in his explanation. He did not take her +anger seriously, then. Molly quivered with indignation. She would +speedily show him his mistake. + +"You think, then," she said, "that this buffoonery is too amusing to be +foregone? I am afraid I do not agree with you." + +She paused. Charlie had given a great start of surprise. She could see +the astonishment on his boyish face under the white mantilla he wore. + +"Oh, look here!" he exclaimed impetuously. "You have got the wrong side +of everything. It isn't buffoonery. I don't play with sacred things. +I'm in earnest, Molly. Can't you see it? What do you take me for?" + +She heard the note of honesty in his voice and shifted her batteries. + +"You may be--for a moment," she said, scorn vibrating in every word she +uttered. "But you will soon get over it, you know. By to-morrow, or even +sooner, all danger will be over." + +"Stop!" exclaimed Charlie. For the first time in all her dealings with +him he spoke sternly, as a man might speak, and Molly started at his +tone. "You are making a mistake," he said more quietly. "I am not the +superficial ass you take me for." + +"I have only your word for that," she returned, striking without pity +because for a second he had startled her out of her contemptuous +attitude. + +He looked at her in silence, and again her indignation arose full-armed +against him. How dared he--this clown in woman's clothes--speak to her +at such a moment of that which she rightly held to be the holiest thing +on earth? + +"How can you expect me to believe you?" she demanded. "You tell me you +are in earnest. But you know as well as I do that that is a mere figure +of speech. You are never in earnest. You play all day long. You will do +it all your life. You never do anything worth mentioning. Other people +do the work. You simply skim the surface of things. You are merely a +looker-on." + +"A very intelligent looker-on, though," said Charlie, in a tone she did +not wholly understand. + +"And if I don't do anything worth doing, it is possibly lack of +opportunity, isn't it? I can do many things, from driving engines to +playing skittles. Take a man for what he is, not for what he does! It is +the only fair estimate. Otherwise the blatant fools get all the honey." + +Molly uttered a scornful little laugh. + +"This is paltry," she exclaimed. "A man's actions are the actual man. He +can make his own opportunities. No, Mr. Cleveland. You will never +convince me of your intrinsic worth by talking." + +She paused, as it were, involuntarily. Again that startled feeling of +uncertainty was at her heart. There was a momentary silence. Then +Charlie made her an odd, jerky bow, and without a single word further +turned and left her. + +Quaint as was his attire, ungainly as were his movements, there was in +his withdrawal a touch of dignity, even a hint of the sublime; and Molly +could not understand it. + +She paced the length of the deck and sat down to regain her composure. +The interview had left her considerably ruffled, even ill at ease. + + +III + +She had been sitting there for some moments when suddenly, with a great +throb that seemed to vibrate through the whole length of the great +vessel from end to end, the engines ceased. The music in the large +saloon, where the first-class passengers were dancing, came to an abrupt +stop. There was a pause, a thrilling, intense pause; and then the +confusion of voices. + +A man ran quickly by her to the bridge, where she could dimly discern +the first-officer on watch. She sprang up, dreading she knew not what, +and at the same instant Charlie--she knew it was he by the flutter of +the ridiculous garb he wore--leapt off the bridge like a hurricane, and +tore past her. + +He was gone in a second, almost before she had had time to realise his +flying presence; and the next moment passengers were streaming up on +deck, asking questions, uttering surmises, on the verge of panic, yet +trying to ignore the anxiety that tugged at their resolution. + +Molly joined the crowd. She was frightened too, badly frightened; but it +is always better to face fear in company. So at least says human +instinct. + +The passengers collected in a restless mass on the upper deck. The +captain was seen going swiftly to the bridge. After a brief word with +him the first-officer came down to them. He was a pleasant, +easy-tempered man, and did not appear in the least dismayed. + +"It's all right," he said, raising his voice. "Please don't be alarmed! +There has been a little accident in the engine-room. The captain hopes +you won't let it interfere with your dancing." + +He placed himself in the thick of the strangely dressed crowd. His +clean-shaven face was perfectly unconcerned. + +"I'll come and join you, if I may," he said. "The captain allows me to +knock off. Will you admit a non-fancy-dresser?" + +He led the way below, calling for the orchestra as he went. The +frightened crowd turned and followed as if in this one man who spoke +with the voice of authority protection could be found. But they hung +back from dancing, and after a pause the first-officer seized a banjo +and proceeded to entertain them with comic songs. He kept it up for a +while, and then Mrs. Langdale went nobly to his assistance and sang some +Irish songs. One or two other volunteers presented themselves, and the +evening's entertainment developed into a concert. + +The tension relaxed considerably as the time slipped by, but it did not +wholly pass. It was noticed that the doctor was absent. + +A reluctance to disperse for the night was very manifestly obvious. + +About two hours after the first alarm the great ship thrilled as if in +answer to some monster touch. The languid roll ceased. The engines +started again firmly, regularly, with gradually rising speed. In less +than a minute all was as it had been. + +A look of intense relief shot across the first-officer's quiet face. + +"That means 'All's well,'" he said, raising his voice a little. "Let us +congratulate ourselves and turn in!" + +"There has been danger, then, Mr. Gresley?" queried Mrs. Granville, a +lady who liked to know everything in detail. + +Mr. Gresley laughed with an indifference perfectly unaffected. "I +believe the engineers thought so," he said. "I must refer you to them +for particulars. Anyhow, it's all right now. I am going to tell the +steward to bring coffee." + +He got up leisurely and strolled away. + +There was a slight commotion on the other side of the door as he opened +it, a giggle that sounded rather hysterical. A moment later Lady Jane +Grey; her head-gear gone, her shorn curls looking absurdly frivolous, +walked mincingly into the saloon and subsided upon the nearest seat. She +was attended by Captain Fisher, who looked anxious. + +"Such a misfortune!" she remarked, in a squeaky voice that sounded, +somehow, a horrible strain. "I have been shut up in the Tower and have +only just escaped. I trust I am not too late for my execution. I'm +afraid I have kept you all waiting." + +All the heaviness of misgiving passed out of the atmosphere in a burst +of merriment. + +"Where on earth have you been hiding?" shouted Major Granville. "I +believe you have been playing the fool with us, you rascal." + +"I!" cried Charlie. "My dear sir, what are you thinking of? If you were +to breathe such a suspicion as that to the captain he would clap me in +irons for the rest of the voyage." + +"You have been in the engine-room for all that," said Mrs. Langdale, +whose powers of observation were very keen. "Look at your skirt!" + +Charlie glanced at the garment in question. It was certainly the worse +for wear. There were some curious patches in the front that had the +appearance of oil stains. + +"That'll be all right!" he said cheerfully. "I had a fright and tumbled +upstairs. Skirts are beastly awkward things to run away in, aren't they, +Mrs. Langdale? Well, good-night all! I'm going to bed." + +He got up with the words, grinned at everyone collectively, picked up +the injured skirt with exaggerated care, and stepped out of the saloon. + +Mrs. Langdale looked after him, half-laughing, yet with a touch of +concern. + +"He looks queer," she remarked to Molly, who was standing by her. "Quite +white and shaky. I believe something has happened to him. He has hurt +himself in some way." + +But Molly was feeling peculiarly indignant at that moment, though not +on account of her ruined skirt. + +"He's a silly poltroon!" she said with emphasis, and walked stiffly +away. + +Charlie Cleveland had recovered from his serious fit even sooner than +she had thought possible; and, though she had made it sufficiently clear +to him that as a serious suitor he was utterly unwelcome, she was +intensely angry with him for having so swiftly resumed his customary gay +spirits. + + +IV + +"Come! What happened last evening? We want to know," said Major +Granville, in his slightly overbearing manner. "I saw you with the +second engineer this morning, Fisher. I'm sure you have ferreted it +out." + +"I am not at liberty to pass on my information," responded Fisher +stolidly. "You wouldn't understand it if I did, Major. There was danger +and there was steam. Two of the engineers had their arms scalded, and +one of the stokers was badly hurt. I can't tell you any more than that." + +"Do you go so far as to say that the ship herself was in danger?" asked +Major Granville. He was talking loudly, as was his wont, across the +smoking saloon. + +"I should say so," said Fisher, without lifting his eyes from the +magazine he was deliberately studying. + +"Where is young Cleveland this morning?" asked the Major abruptly. + +Fisher shrugged his shoulders. + +"He was in his bunk when I saw him last. Heaven knows what he may be up +to by now." + +Charlie Cleveland strolled in at this juncture. He had his right arm in +a sling. + +"Hullo!" he said. "How are you all? I'm on the sick-list to-day. I +sprained my wrist when I fell up the steps yesterday." + +Fisher glanced at him for a moment over the top of his magazine and +resumed his reading in silence. + +"Look here, my friend!" he said. "You were in the thick of this engine +business. I am sure of it." + +"I was," said Charlie readily. "But for me you would all be at the +bottom of the sea by this time." + +He threw himself into a chair with a broad grin at Major Granville's +contemptuous countenance and took up a book. + +Major Granville looked intensely disgusted. It was scarcely credible +that a passenger could have penetrated to the engine-room and interfered +with the machinery there, yet he more than half believed that this +outrageous thing had actually occurred. He got up after a brief silence +and stalked stiffly from the saloon. + +Charlie banged down his book with a yell of laughter. + +"Didn't I tell you, Fisher?" he cried. "He's gone to have a good, +square, face-to-face talk with the captain. But he won't get anything +out of him. I've been there first." + +He went up on deck and found a party of quoit-players. Molly Erle was +among them. Charlie stood and watched, yelling advice and +encouragement. + +"Looking on as usual?" the girl said to him presently, with a bitter +little smile, as she found herself near him. + +He nodded. + +"I'm really afraid to speak to you to-day," he said. "Your skirt will +never again bear the light of day." + +"What happened?" she said briefly. + +The game was over, and they strolled away together across the deck. + +"I'll tell you," he said, with ill-suppressed gaiety in his voice. "We +should all have been blown out of the water last night if it hadn't been +for me. Forgetful of my finery, I went and--looked on. The magic result +was that I saved the situation, and--incidentally, of course--the ship." + +He stopped. + +"You don't believe me?" he said abruptly. + +Her lip curled a little. + +"Do you really expect to be believed?" she said. + +"I don't know," he said; "I thought it was the usual thing to do between +friends." + +"I was not aware--" began Molly. + +He broke in with a most disarming smile. + +"Oh, please," he said. "I don't deserve that--anyhow. I'm awfully sorry +about the skirt. I hope you'll let me bear the cost of the damage. I've +got into hot water all round. Nobody will believe I'm seriously sorry, +though it's a fact for all that. Don't be hard on me, Molly, I say!" + +There was a note of genuine pleading in the last words that induced her +to relent a little. + +"Oh, well, I'll forgive you for the skirt," she said. "I suppose boys +can't help being mischievous, though you are nearly old enough to know +better." + +She looked at him as she said it. His face was comically penitent. +Somehow she could not quarrel with the lurking smile in his merry eyes. +He was certainly a boy. He would never be anything else. But Molly did +not realise this, and she was still too young herself to have +appreciated the gift of perpetual youth had she been aware of its +existence. + +"That's right!" said Charlie cheerily. "And perhaps"--he spoke +cautiously, with a half-deprecatory glance at her bright +face--"perhaps--in time, you know--you will be able to forgive me for +something else as well." + +"I think the less we say about that the better," remarked Molly, tilting +her chin a little. + +"All right!" said Charlie equably. "Only, you know"--his voice was +suddenly grave--"I was--and am--in earnest." + +Molly laughed. + +"So far as in you lies, I suppose?" she said indifferently. "I wonder if +you ever really did anything worth doing in your life, Mr. Cleveland." + +"I wish you would call me Charlie!" he said impulsively. "Yes. I +proposed to you last night. Wasn't that worth doing?" + +She drew her brows together in a quick frown, but she made no reply. +Fisher was drifting towards them. She turned deliberately, her head very +high, and strolled to meet him. + +Charlie glanced over his shoulder, stood a moment irresolute, then +walked away more soberly than usual towards the bridge, where he was a +constant and welcome visitor. + + +V + +"There are plenty of fine chaps in the world who aren't to be recognised +as such at first sight," drawled Bertie Richmond to his young cousin, +Molly Erle, who was sitting with her feet on the fender on a very cold +winter evening. + +"I'm sure of that," said Mrs. Richmond from the other side of the fire, +with a tender glance at her husband's loosely knit figure. "I never +thought there was an inch of heroism in you, Bertie darling, till that +day when we went punting and we got upset. How brave you were! I've +never forgotten it. It was the beginning of everything." + +"It sounds as if it were nearer being the end," remarked Molly, who +systematically avoided all sentiment. "I don't believe myself that any +man can be actually heroic and yet not betray it somehow." + +"You're wrong," said Bertie. + +"I don't think so," said Molly. She could be quite as obstinate as most +women, and this was a point upon which she was very decided. + +"I'll prove it," said Bertie, with quiet determination. "There's a chap +coming with the crowd of sportsmen to-morrow who is the bravest and, I +think, the best fellow I ever met. I shan't tell you who he is. I'll +leave you to find out--if you can. But I don't believe you will." + +"I am quite sure I can tell the difference between a looker-on, a mere +loafer, and a man who does," said Molly, with absolute confidence. + +"Bet you you don't!" murmured Bertie Richmond, smiling at the ceiling. +"I know the woman's theory so jolly well." + +Molly smiled also. + +"I'll take your bet, whatever it is, Bertie," she said. + +Bertie shook his head. + +"No, I don't bet on a dead cert," he said comfortably. "I'll even tell +you the fellow's heroic deeds, and then you'll never spot him. I met him +first in South Africa. He saved my life twice. Once he carried me nearly +a mile under fire, and got wounded in the process. Another time he sat +all night under fire holding a fellow's artery. Since then he has been +knocking about in odd corners, doing splendid things in the dark, as it +were, for he is horribly modest. The last I heard of him was from my +friend Captain Raglan. He travelled on Raglan's ship from Calcutta, One +night in the Mediterranean something went wrong in the engine-room. Two +of the boat's engineers were badly scalded. They managed to get away, +but a wretched stoker was too hurt to escape, and this fellow--this hero +of mine--went down into a perfect inferno and got him out. Not only +that, he went back afterwards with one of the engineers to direct him, +and worked like a bull till the mischief was put right. There was danger +of an explosion every moment, but he never lost his nerve for an +instant. When it was over everyone concerned was sworn to secrecy, and +not a passenger on board that boat knew what had actually taken place. +As I said before, he is not the sort of chap anyone would credit with +that sort of heroism. I shan't tell you what he is like in other +respects." + +"I probably know," said Molly. "I came home on Captain Raglan's ship in +the autumn." + +"What! You were on board?" exclaimed Bertie. "What a rum go! You will +meet one or two old friends, then. And the hero is probably known to you +already, though I'm sure you have never taken him for such." + +"Oh, you're quite wrong!" laughed Molly. "I have known him and detected +his splendid qualities for quite a long while. He is nice, isn't he? I +am glad he is coming." + +She took up her book with slightly heightened colour, and began to turn +over its pages. + +Bertie Richmond stared at her in silence for some moments. + +"Well!" he said at last. "You have got sharper insight than any woman I +know." + +"Thanks!" said Molly, with an indifferent laugh. "But you are not so +awfully great on that point yourself, are you, Bertie? I should say you +are scarcely a competent judge." + +Mrs. Richmond protested on Bertie's behalf, but without effect. Molly +was slightly vexed with him for imagining that she could be so dull. + + +VI + +The great country house was invaded by a host of guests on the following +day. Portmanteaux and gun-cases were continually in evidence. The place +was filled to overflowing. + +Mrs. Langdale, who was Mrs. Richmond's greatest friend, arrived in +excellent spirits, and was delighted to find Molly Erle a fellow-guest. + +"And actually," she said, "Charlie Cleveland and Captain Fisher are +going to swell the throng of sportsmen. We shall imagine ourselves back +in our old board-ship days. Charlie was talking about them and of all +the fun we had only last Saturday. Yes, I have seen him several times +lately. He has been staying in town, waiting for something to turn up, +he says. Funny boy! He is just as gay as ever. And Captain Fisher, whom +he dragged to my flat to tea, is every bit as heavy and uninteresting, +poor dear!" + +"I don't call Captain Fisher uninteresting," remarked Molly. "At least, +I never found him so in the old days." + +"My dear, he is heavy as lead!" declared Mrs. Langdale. "I believe he +only opened his mouth once to speak, and then it was to ask for five +lumps of sugar instead of three. A most wearing person to entertain. I +will never have him at my table without Charlie to raise the gloom. He +and Charlie seemed to have decided to join forces for the present. They +spent Christmas together with Captain Fisher's people. I don't know if +they are as sober as he is. If so, poor dear Charlie must have felt +distinctly out of his element. But his spirits are wonderful. I believe +he would make a tombstone laugh." + +"It will be nice to see him again," said Molly tolerantly. "It is three +months now since we dispersed." + +She made the remark with another thought in her mind. Surely by this +Charlie would have forgotten the folly that had caused her annoyance in +the old days! Constancy was the very last quality with which she +credited him. Or so at least she thought. + +She went for a walk on the rocky shore that afternoon, meeting the +steely north-east blast with a good deal of resolution, if scant +enjoyment. Something in the immediate future she found vaguely +disquieting, something connected with Charlie Cleveland. + +She did not believe that her estimate of this young man was in any way +wide of the mark. And yet the thought of meeting him again had in it a +disturbing element for which she could not account. It worried her a +good deal that wild afternoon in January. Perhaps a suspicion that she +had once done young Cleveland an injustice strengthened the unwelcome +sense of regret, for it felt like regret in her mind. + +Yet as she turned homeward along the windy shore one comforting +reflection came to her and remained with her. She was at least +unfeignedly glad that Captain Fisher was going to be there. She liked +those silent, strong men who did all the hard work and then stood aside +to let the tide of praise and admiration flood past. + +Right well did her cousin's description fit this quiet hero, she told +herself with flushed cheeks. + +She remembered how he had spoken of him as "doing splendid things in the +dark, as it were," as being "horribly modest." Fisher's heavy +personality came before her with the memory. She could detect the +heroism behind the grave exterior with which this man baffled all +others. + +If Charlie had been a hero, too, instead of a frivolous imp of mischief! + +A sigh rose in her heart. Somehow, even though she told herself she had +no interest in the matter, Molly wished that he were something more +valuable than the flippant looker-on she took him to be. How could any +man, who was worth anything, bear to be only that, she wondered? + +She found a large party gathered in the hall at tea on her return. A +laugh she knew fell on her ears as she entered, and an instant later she +was aware of Charlie springing to meet her, his brown face aglow with +the smile of welcome. + +"How awfully good to meet you here, Molly!" he said, with that audacious +use of her Christian name against which no protest of hers seemed to +take any effect. + +She shook hands with him and she tried to do it coldly, but his warm +grasp was close and lingering. She realised with something of a shock +that he really was as glad as he professed to be to see her again. + +She went forward to the group around the fire and shook hands with all +she knew. + +Captain Fisher was the last to receive this attention. He was standing +in the background. He moved forward half a pace to greet her. In his own +peculiar, dumb fashion he also seemed pleased to meet her there. + +He had an untasted cup of tea in his hand which he hastened to pass on +to her. + +"I shouldn't accept it if I were you," laughed Mrs. Langdale. "I saw ten +lumps of sugar go into it just now." + +Fisher raised his eyebrows, but made no verbal protest. He never spoke +if a gesture would do as well. + +Molly accepted the cup of tea with a gracious smile, and Fisher found +her a chair and sat silently down beside her. + +Molly had plenty to say at all times. Her companion did not embarrass +her by his lack of responsiveness as he embarrassed most people. She had +a feeling that his reticence did not spring from inattention. + +"I am going to let you have the Silent Fish, as Charlie calls him, for +partner at dinner," her hostess said to her later. "You are a positive +marvel, Molly. He becomes quite genial under your influence." + +Fisher brightened considerably when he found himself allotted to Molly. +He even conversed a little, and went so far as to seek her out in the +drawing-room later. + +Charlie, who was making tracks in the same direction, turned sharply +away when he saw it, and went off to the billiard-room where several of +the rest were collected playing pool. He was in uproarious spirits, and +the whole gathering was speedily infected thereby. + +The evening ended in a boisterous abandonment to childish games, and the +party broke up at midnight, exhausted but still merry. Charlie, after an +animated sponge-fight with half-a-dozen other sportsmen, finally effaced +himself by bolting into Fisher's bedroom and locking himself in. + +To Fisher, who was smoking peacefully by the fire, he made hurried +apology, to which Fisher gruffly responded by requesting him to get out. + +But Charlie, after listening to the babel dying away down the corridor, +turned round with a smile and established himself at comfortable length +on Fisher's bed. + +"I want to talk to you, dear old fellow," he tenderly remarked. "Can you +spare me a few moments of your valuable time?" + +"Two minutes," said Fisher with brevity. + +"By Jove! What generosity!" ejaculated Charlie, his hands clasped behind +his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "It's rather a delicate matter. +However, here goes! Do you seriously mean business, or don't you? Are +you in sober earnest, or aren't you? Are you badly smitten, or are you +only just beginning to hover round the candle? Pardon my mixture of +similes! The meaning remains intact." + +Silence followed his somewhat involved speech. After a pause Captain +Fisher got up slowly, and turned round to face the boy on his bed. + +"Whatever your meaning may be, I don't fathom it," he said curtly. + +Charlie rolled on to his side to look at him. + +"Dense as a London fog," he murmured. + +"You'd better go," said Fisher, dropping his cigarette into the fire and +beginning to undress. + +Charlie sat up and watched him with an air of interest. Fisher took no +more notice of him. There was no waste of ceremony between these two. + +Charlie got up at last and laid sudden hands on his friend's square +shoulders. + +"I think it wouldn't hurt you to give me a straight answer, old boy," he +said, a flicker of something that was not mischief in his eyes. + +Fisher faced him instantly. + +"What is it you want to know?" he inquired bluntly. + +"This only," Charlie said, with perfect steadiness. "Are you going in +for Miss Erle in solid earnest or are you not? I want to know your +intentions, that's all." + +"I can't enlighten you, then," returned Fisher. + +Charlie laughed without effort. + +"Cautious old duffer!" he said. "Well, tell me this! I've no right to +ask it. Only somehow I've got to know. You care for her, don't you?" + +Fisher looked at him keenly for a moment. "Why do you ask?" he said. + +"Oh, it's infernal impertinence, of course. I admit that," said Charlie, +his tanned face growing suddenly red. "I suspected it, you see, ages +ago--on board ship, in fact. Is it true, then?" + +Fisher turned abruptly from him, and began to wind his watch with +extreme care. He spoke at length with his back turned on Charlie, who +was waiting with extraordinary patience for his answer. + +"Yes," he said deliberately. "It is true." + +"Go on and prosper!" said Charlie with a gay laugh. "You have my +blessing, old chap. Thanks for telling me!" + +He moved up to Fisher and thrust out an immense brown paw. + +"Take a friend's advice, man!" he said. "Ask her soon!" + +Then he bounced out of the room with his usual brisk energy, and shut +the door noisily behind him. + + +VII + +Was it by happy accident or by some kind friend's deliberate provision +that Fisher found himself walking alone with Molly Erle to church on the +following Sunday? Across the frosty park the voices of the other +churchgoers sounded fitfully distinct. + +Charlie Cleveland and another boy called Archie Croft, as hare-brained +as himself, were making Mrs. Langdale slide along the slippery drive. +Mrs. Langdale's laughter could be plainly heard. Molly thought her, +privately, rather childish to suffer herself to be thus carried away. + +Her companion was sauntering very slowly at her side. + +"I think we are late," Molly presently remarked, in a suggestive tone. + +"Are we?" said Fisher. "Does it matter?" + +"Yes," said Molly with decision. "I don't like going in after the +service has begun." + +"We won't," said Fisher. + +She looked at him in some surprise and found him gravely watching her. + +"I don't think we ought to do that," she remarked, smiling a little. + +"I'll go with you to-night," said Fisher, "if you will come with me +now." + +They had come to a path that branched off towards the shore. He stopped +with an air of determination. + +Molly stopped too, looking irresolute. Her heart was beating very fast. +She wished he would turn his eyes away. + +Suddenly he took his hand from his pocket and held it out to her. + +"Come with me, Miss Erle!" he said, in a quiet tone. + +She hesitated momentarily, then as he waited she put her hand in his. + +She glanced up at him as she did so, her face a glow of colour. + +"How far, Captain Fisher?" she said faintly. + +"All the way," said Fisher, with a sudden smile that illuminated his +sombre countenance like a searchlight on a dark sea. + +Molly laughed softly. + +"How far is that?" she said. + +He drew the little hand to his breast and put his free arm round her. + +"Further than we can see, Molly," he said, and his quiet voice suddenly +thrilled. "Side by side through eternity." + +Thus, with no word of love, did Fisher the Silent take to himself the +priceless gift of love. And the girl he wooed loved him the better for +that which he left unuttered. + +They returned home late for lunch, entering sheepishly, and sitting down +as far apart as the length of the table would allow. + +Charlie fell upon Fisher with merciless promptitude. + +"You base defaulter!" he cried. "I'll see you march in front next time. +I was never more scandalised in my life than when I realised that you +and Molly had done a slope." + +Fisher shrugged the shoulder nearest to him and offered no explanation +of his and Molly's defection. + +Charlie kept up a running fire of chaff for some time, to which Fisher, +as was his wont, showed himself to be perfectly indifferent. Lunch over, +Molly disappeared. Charlie saw her go and turned instantly to Fisher. + +"Come and have a single on the asphalt court!" he said. "I haven't tried +it yet. I want to." + +Fisher was reluctant, but yielded to persuasion. + +They went off together, Charlie with an affectionate arm round his +friend's shoulders. + +"I am to congratulate, I suppose?" he asked, as they crossed the garden +to the tennis-court. + +Fisher looked at him gravely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. + +"You may, if it gives you any pleasure to do so, my boy," he said. + +"Ah, that's good!" said Charlie. "You're a jolly good fellow, old chap. +You'll make her awfully happy." + +"I shall do my best," Fisher said. + +Charlie passed instantly to less serious matters, but the critical look +did not pass entirely from Fisher's face. He seemed to be watching for +something, for some card that Charlie did not appear disposed to play. + +Throughout the hard set that followed, his vigilance did not relax; but +Charlie played with all his customary zest. Tennis was to him for the +time being the only thing worth doing on the face of the earth. In his +enthusiasm he speedily stripped off his coat and rolled his sleeves to +the shoulder as if it had been the hottest summer day. + +At the end of the set, which Charlie won, a couple of spectators who had +come up unseen applauded their energy, and Charlie, swinging round in +flushed triumph, raced up for a word with his host and Molly Erie. + +"I can't stuff over a fire all the afternoon," he said. "But the light +is getting bad, isn't it? Fisher and I will have to knock off. Are you +two going for a walk? We'll come, too, if you are, eh, Fisher?" + +He turned towards Fisher, who had come up, and held out his hand for the +other's racquet. + +Molly uttered a sudden startled exclamation. + +"Why, Charlie," she ejaculated, "what have you done to your arm? What is +the matter with it?" + +Charlie jumped at her startled tone and tore down his shirt-sleeve +hastily. + +"An old wound," he said, with a shame-faced laugh. + +She put her gloved hand swiftly on his to stay his operations. + +"No, tell me!" she said. "What is it--really? How was it done?" + +"You will never get him to tell you that," laughed Bertie Richmond. "You +had better ask Fisher." + +"Oh, rats!" cried Charlie vehemently. "Fisher, I'll break your head with +this racquet if you give my show away. Come along! I believe the moon +has contracted a romantic habit of rising over the sea when the sun +sets. Let's go and----" + +"I'll tell you, Molly," broke in Bertie, linking a firm arm in Charlie's +to keep him quiet. "He can't break his host's head, you know. It's a +scald, eh, Charlie? He got it in the engine-room of the _Andover_ one +night in the autumn. You were on board, you know. Help me to hold him, +Fisher! He's getting restive. But I thought you knew all about it, +Molly. You told me so." + +"Oh, I didn't know--this!" the girl said. "How could I? I never +guessed--this!" + +Her three listeners were all surprised by the tragic note in her voice. +There was a momentary silence. Then Charlie made a fierce attempt to +wrest himself free. + +"You infernal idiots!" he exclaimed violently. "Fisher, if you interfere +with me any more I--I'll punch your head! Bertie, don't be such a fool!" + +He shook them off with an angry effort. Fisher laughed quietly. + +"You can't always hide your light, my dear fellow," he observed. "If you +will do impossible things, you will have to put up with the penalty of +being occasionally found out." + +"Silly ass!" commented Bertie. "Anyone would think that to save a few +hundred human lives was a thing to be ashamed of. It was the same thing +in South Africa; always slinking off into the background when the work +was done, till everyone took you for nothing but a looker-on--a chap who +ought to wear the V.C., if ever there was one," he ended, thrusting an +arm through Charlie's, as the latter, having put on his coat, turned +once more towards them. + +"Oh, you are utterly wrong," the boy said forcibly, almost angrily. "If +you judge a man by what he does on impulse you might decorate the +biggest blackguard in the world with the V.C." + +"You're made of impulse, my dear lad," Bertie remarked, walking off with +him. "You're a mass of impulse. That's why you do such idiotic things." + +Charlie yielded, chafing, to the friendly hand. + +"I should like to kick you, Bertie," he said. + +But he went no further than that. Bertie Richmond was his very good +friend, and he was Bertie's. Neither of them was likely to forget that +fact. + + +VIII + +"Oh, Charlie, here you are! I _am_ glad!" + +Molly entered the smoking-room with an air of resolution. She had just +returned from evening church with Fisher. They were late, and the latter +had gone off to dress forthwith. + +But Molly had glanced into the smoking-room, and, seeing Charlie alone +there, as she had half hoped but scarcely expected, she entered. + +Charlie sprang up instantly, his brown face exceedingly alert. + +"Come to the fire!" he said hospitably. + +Molly went, but did not sit down. She stood facing him on the +hearth-rug. Her young face was very troubled. + +"I want to tell you," she said steadily, "how sorry--and grieved--I am +for all the hard things I have said and thought of you. I would like to +retract them all. I was quite wrong. I took you for an idler--a buffoon +almost. I know better now. And I--I should like you to forgive me." + +Her voice suddenly faltered. Her eyes were full of tears she could +neither repress nor conceal. + +Charlie, however, seemed to notice nothing strained in the atmosphere. +He broke into a gay laugh and held out his hand. + +"Oh, that's all right," he said briskly. "Shake hands and forget what +those asses said about me! You were quite right, you know. I am a +buffoon. There isn't an inch of heroism anywhere about me. You took my +measure long ago, didn't you? To change the subject, I'm most awfully +pleased to hear that you and old Fisher have come to an understanding. +Congratulate you most heartily. There's solid worth in that chap. He +goes straight ahead and never plays the fool." + +He looked straight at her as he spoke. Not by the flicker of an eyelid +did he seem to recall the fact that he had once asked on his own behalf +that which he apparently so heartily approved of her bestowing upon +another. + +Yet Molly, torn with remorse over what was irrevocable, did a most +outrageous thing. + +"Charlie!" she cried, with a deep ringing passion that would not be +suppressed. "Why have I been deceived like this? Why didn't you tell me? +How could you let me imagine anything so false?" She flung out her other +hand to him and he took it; but still he laughed. + +"Oh, come, Molly!" he protested. "I did tell you, you know. I told you +the day after it happened. Don't you remember? I had to account for the +skirt." + +She wrenched her hands away from him. The thrill of laughter in his +voice seemed to jar all her nerves. She was, moreover, wearied with the +emotions of the day. + +"Oh, don't you see," she cried passionately, "how different it might +have been? If you had told me--if you had made me understand! I could +have cared--I did care--only you seemed to me--unworthy. How could I +know? What chance had I?" + +She bowed her head suddenly, and burst into a storm of bitter weeping. + +Charlie turned white to his lips. He stood perfectly motionless till the +anguished sobbing goaded him beyond endurance. Then he flung round with +a jerk. + +"Stop, for Heaven's sake!" he exclaimed harshly. "I can't bear it. It's +too much--too much." + +He moved close to her, his face twitching, and took her shaking +shoulders between his hands. + +"Molly!" he said almost violently. "You don't know what you said just +now. You didn't mean it. It has always been Fisher--always, from the +very beginning." + +She did not contradict him. She did not even answer him. She was sobbing +as in passionate despair. + +And it was that moment which Fisher chose for poking his head into the +smoking-room in search of Charlie, whom he expected to find dozing over +the fire, ignorant of the fact that it was close upon dinner-time. + +Charlie leapt round at the opening of the door, but Fisher had taken +stock of the situation. He entered with that in his face which the boy +had never seen there before--a look that it was impossible to ignore. + +Charlie met Fisher half-way across the room. + +"Come into the billiard-room!" he said hurriedly. + +He seized Fisher's arms with muscular fingers. + +"Not here," he whispered urgently. "She is tired--upset. There is +nothing really the matter." + +But Fisher resisted the impulsive grip. + +"I will talk to you presently," he said. "You clear out!" + +He pushed past Charlie and went straight to the girl. His jaw was set +with a determination that would have astonished most of his friends. + +"What is it, Molly?" he said, halting close beside her. "What is wrong, +child?" + +But Molly could not tell him. She turned towards him indeed, laying an +imploring hand on his arm; but she kept her face hidden and uttered no +word. + +It was Charlie who plunged recklessly into the opening breach--plunged +with a wholesale gallantry, regardless of everything but the moment's +emergency. + +"It's my doing, Fisher," he declared, his voice shaking a little. "I've +been making an ass of myself. It was, partly your fault, too--yours and +Bertie's. Let her go! I'll explain." + +He was excited and he spoke quickly, but his eyes were very steady. + +"Molly," he said, "you go upstairs! You've got to dress, you know, and +you'll be late. I'll make it all right. Don't you worry yourself!" + +Molly lifted a perfectly white face and looked at Fisher. She met his +eyes, struggled with herself a moment, then with quivering lips turned +slowly away. He did not try to stop her. He realised that Charlie must +be disposed of before he attempted to extract an explanation from her. + +Charlie sprang to the door, shut it hastily after her, and turned the +key. + +"Now!" he said, and, wheeling, marched straight back to Fisher and +halted before him. "You want an explanation. You shall have one. You +gave my show away this afternoon. You made her imagine that in taking me +for an ordinary--or perhaps I should say a rather extraordinary--fool +she had done me an injustice. She came in her sweetness and told me she +was sorry. And I--forgot myself, and said things that made her cry. That +is the whole matter." + +"What did you say to her?" demanded Fisher. + +"I'm not going to tell you." + +"You shall tell me!" said Fisher. + +He took a step forward, all the hidden force in him risen to the +surface. + +Charlie faced him for a second with his head flung defiantly back, then, +as Fisher laid a powerful hand on his shoulder, he stuck his hands in +his pockets and smiled a little. + +"No, old chap," he said. "I'll apologise to you, if you like. But you +haven't any right to ask for more." + +"I have a right to know why what you said upset her," Fisher said. + +Charlie shook his head. + +"Not the smallest," he said. "But I should have thought your imagination +might have accomplished that much. Surely you needn't grudge the tears +of pity a woman wastes over a man she has had to disappoint?" + +He spoke with his eyes on Fisher's face. He was not afraid of Fisher, +yet his look of relief was unmistakable as the hand on his shoulder +relaxed. + +"You care for her, then?" Fisher said. + +Charlie flung impetuously away from him. + +"Oh, need we discuss the thing any further?" he said. "I'm on the wrong +side of the hedge, and that's enough. I hope you won't say any more to +her about it. You will only distress her." + +He walked to the end of the room and came slowly back to Fisher, whose +eyes were sternly fixed upon him. He thrust out his hand impulsively. + +"Forgive me, old chap!" he said. "After all, I've got the hardest part." + +Fisher's face softened. + +"I'm sorry, boy," he said, and took the proffered hand. + +"I'll clear out to-morrow," Charlie said. "You'll forget this foolery of +mine?" gripping Fisher's hand hard for a moment. + +Fisher did not answer him. He struck him instead a sounding blow on the +shoulder, and Charlie turned away satisfied. He had played a difficult +game with considerable skill. That it had been a losing game did not at +the moment enter into his calculations. He had not played for his own +stakes. + + +IX + +"Jove! It's a wild night," said Archie Croft comfortably, as he +stretched out his legs to the smoking-room fire. "What's become of +Charlie? He doesn't usually retire early." + +"I don't believe he has retired," said Bertie Richmond sleepily. "I saw +him go out something over an hour ago." + +"Out?" said Croft. "What on earth for?" + +"Up to some fool trick or other, no doubt," said Fisher from the +smoking-room sofa. + +"Hullo, Fisher! I thought you were asleep," said Bertie. "You ought to +be. It's after midnight. Time we all turned in if we mean to start early +with the guns to-morrow." + +Croft stretched himself and rose leisurely. + +"It's a positively murderous night!" he remarked, strolling to the +window. "There must be a tremendous sea." + +He drew aside the blind, staring at the blackness that seemed to press +against the pane. A moment later, with a sharp exclamation, he ripped +back the blind and flung the window wide open. An icy spout of rain and +snow whirled into the room. Richmond turned round to expostulate, but +was met by a face of such wild excitement that his protest remained +unuttered. + +"I saw a rocket!" Croft declared. + +"Oh, rats!" murmured Fisher. + +"It isn't rats!" he said indignantly. "It's a ship down among those +infernal rocks. I'm off to see what's doing." + +"Hi! Wait a minute!" exclaimed his host, starting up. "You are perfectly +certain, are you, Croft? No humbug? I heard no report." + +"Who could hear anything in a gale like this?" returned Croft +impatiently. "Yes, of course, I am certain. Are you coming?" + +"I must send a man on horseback to the life-boat station," said Bertie, +starting towards the door. "It's two miles round the headland. They may +not know there is anything up." + +He was out of the room with the words. The rest of the men in the +smoking-room followed. Fisher remained to shut the window. He stood a +couple of seconds before it, facing the hurricane. The night was like +pitch. The angry roar of the sea half-a-mile away surged up on the +tearing gale like the voice of a devouring monster. He turned away into +the cosy room and followed the others. + +The whole party went out into the raging night. They groped their way +after Bertie to the stables. A groom was dispatched on horseback to the +life-boat station. Lanterns were then procured, and, with the blast full +in their teeth, they fought their way to the shore. + +Here were darkness and desolation unspeakable. The tide was high. Great +waves, flashing white through the darkness, came smiting through the +rocks as if they would rend the very surface of the earth apart. The +clouds scurrying overhead uncovered a star or two and instantly drew +together in impenetrable darkness. + +Down by the sea-wall that protected the little village nestling between +the cliffs and the sea they found a knot of men and women. A short +distance away in the boiling tumult there shone a shifting light, but +between it and the shore the storm-god held undisputed possession. + +"That's her!" explained one of the men to Bertie Richmond. "She's sunk +right down in them rocks, sir. It's a little schooner. I see her masts +a-stickin' up just now." + +The man was one of his own gardeners. He yelled his information into +Bertie's ear with great enjoyment. + +"Have you sent to the lifeboat chaps?" shouted Bertie. + +"Young gentleman went an hour ago," came the answer. "But they are off +on another job to Mulworth, t'other side of the station. He wanted us to +go out in a fishing-boat. But no one 'ud go. He be gone for a bit o' +rope now. You see, sir, them rocks 'ud dash a boat to pieces like a bit +o' eggshell. There's only three chaps aboard as far as we could see +awhile ago. And not a hundred yards off us. But it's a hundred yards of +death, as you might say. No boat could live through it. It ain't worth +the trying." + +A hundred yards of death and only three little human lives to be gained +by the awful risk of braving that hundred yards! + +Bertie turned away, feeling sick, yet silently agreeing. Who could hope +to pass unharmed through that raging darkness, that tossing nightmare of +great waters? Yet the thought of those three lives beating outward in +agony and terror while he and his friends stood helplessly by took him +by the throat. + +Suddenly through a lull of the tempest there came a great shout. + +The clouds had drifted asunder and a few stars shone vaguely down on the +wild scene. The dim light showed the doomed vessel wedged among the +rocks that stuck up, black and threatening, through the racing foam. + +Nearer at hand, huddled on the stout sea-wall, stood the little group of +watchers, their faces all turned outwards towards the two masts of the +little schooner, which remained faintly discernible through the shifting +gloom. + +It was not more than a hundred yards away, Bertie realised. Yet the +impossibility of rescue was as apparent as if it had been a hundred +miles from land. He fancied he could see a couple of figures half-way up +one of the masts, but the light was elusive. He could not be certain of +this. + +Suddenly a hand gripped his elbow, and he found Archie Croft beside him, +yelling excitedly. + +"Don't let him go!" he bawled. "It's madness--sheer madness!" + +Bertie turned sharply. Close to him, his head bare, and clothed still in +evening dress, stood Charlie Cleveland. A coil of rope lay at his feet. +He had knotted one end firmly round his body. + +"Listen, you fellows!" he cried. "I'm going to have a shot at it. Pay +out the rope as I go. Count up to five hundred, and if it is limp, pull +it in again. If it holds, make it fast! Got me?" + +He turned at once to a flight of iron steps that led off the wall down +into the awful, seething water. But someone, Fisher, sprang suddenly +after him and held him back. Charlie wheeled instantly. The light of a +lantern striking on his face revealed it, unafraid, even laughing. + +"You silly ass!" he cried. "Hang on to the rope instead of behaving like +a fellow's grandmother!" + +"You shan't do it!" Fisher said, holding him fast. "It is certain +death!" + +"All right," Charlie yelled back. "I choose death, then. I prefer it to +sitting still and seeing others die. My life is my own. I choose to risk +it." + +He looked at Fisher closely for a moment, then, with one immense effort, +he wrenched himself away. He went leaping down the steps as a boy going +for a summer-morning dip. + +Fisher turned round and met Bertie Richmond hurrying to help him. + +"Let him go!" Fisher said briefly. + +Thereafter came a terrible interval of waiting. The sky was clearing, +but the tempest did not abate. The rope ran out with jerks and pauses. +Fisher stood and counted at the head of the steps, his eyes on the +tumult that had swallowed up the slight active figure of the one man +among them all who had elected to risk his life against those +overwhelming odds. + +"He must be dashed to pieces!" Bertie Richmond gasped to himself, with a +shudder. + +The rope ceased to run. Fisher had counted four hundred and fifty. He +counted on resolutely to five hundred, then turned and raised his hand +to the men who held the coil. They hauled at the rope. It was limp. Hand +over hand they dragged it in through the foam. Fisher peered downwards. +It came so rapidly that he thought it must have parted among the rocks. +Then he saw a dark object bobbing strangely among the waves. He went +down the steps, that quivered and trembled like cardboard under his +feet. + +Clinging to the iron rail, he reached out a hand and guided the rope to +him. A great sea broke over him and nearly swept him off. He saved +himself by hanging with both hands on to the rope. Thus he was dragged +up the steps to safety, and behind him, buffeted, bleeding, helpless, +came two limp bodies lashed fast together. + +They cut the two asunder by the light of the lanterns, and one of them, +Charlie, staggered to his feet. + +"I've got to go back!" he gasped. "You pulled too soon. There are two +others." + +He dashed the blood from his face, seized a pocket flask someone held +out to him, and drained it at a long gulp. + +"That's better!" he said. "That you, Fisher? Good-bye, old chap!" + +The first pale light of a rising moon burst suddenly through the cloud +drift. + +"I'll go myself," Fisher abruptly said. + +Even in that roar of sound they heard the boyish laugh that rang out +upon the words. + +"No, no, no!" shouted Charlie. "Bless you, dear fellow! But this is my +job--alone. You've got to stay behind--you're wanted." + +He stood a few seconds poising himself on the steps, drawing deep +breaths in preparation for the coming struggle. The moonlight smote upon +him. He lifted his face to it, and seemed to hesitate. Then suddenly he +turned to Fisher and laid impetuous hands upon his shoulders. + +"Lookers-on see most of the game," he said. "And I've been one from the +first, though I own I thought at one time I should like to take a hand. +Go on and prosper, old boy! You've played a winning game all along, you +know. You're a better chap than I am, and it's you she really cares +for--always has been. That's how I came to know what I'd got to do. I +find it's easy--thank God!--it's very easy." + +And with that he plunged down again into the breakers. The tide was on +the turn. The worst fury was over. The awful darkness had lifted. + +Those who mutely watched him fancied they heard him laugh as he met the +crested waves. + + +X + +Molly had spent a night of feverish restlessness. It was with a feeling +of relief that she answered a tap that came at her door in the early +dusk of the January morning; but she gave a start of surprise when she +saw Mrs. Langdale enter. + +She started up on her elbow. + +"Oh, what is it? It has been a fearful night. Has something dreadful +happened?" she cried. + +Mrs. Langdale's usually merry face was pale and quiet. She went quickly +to the girl's side and took her hands into a tight clasp. + +"My dear," she said, "Gerald Fisher asked me to come and tell you. There +has been a wreck in the night. A vessel ran on to the rocks. There were +three men on board. They could not reach them with an ordinary boat, and +the life-boat was not available." + +"Go on!" gasped Molly, her eyes on her friend's face. + +Mrs. Langdale went on, with an effort. + +"Charlie Cleveland--dear fellow--went out to them with a rope. He +reached them, brought one safely back, returned for the +others--and--and--" Her voice failed. Her hands tightened upon Molly's; +they were very cold. "He managed to get to them again," she whispered, +"but--the rope wasn't long enough. He unlashed himself and bound them +together. They pulled them ashore--both living. But--he--was lost!" + +The composure suddenly forsook Mrs. Langdale's face. She hid it on +Molly's pillow. + +"Oh, Molly, that darling boy!" she cried, with a burst of tears. "And +they say he went to his death--laughing." + +"He would," Molly said, in a strange voice. "I always knew he would." + +She lay back again. Her face was suddenly pinched and grey, but she felt +not the smallest desire to cry. + +"I wonder why!" she presently said. "How I wonder why!" + +Mrs. Langdale recovered herself with an effort. The frozen voice seemed +to give her strength. + +"Have we any right to ask that?" she whispered. "No one on this side can +ever know." + +"Oh, I think you are wrong," Molly said. "We can't be meant to grope in +outer darkness." + +Mrs. Langdale whispered something about "those the gods love." She was +too broken-down herself to be able to offer any solid comfort. + +After a painful silence she got up and busied herself with reviving +Molly's fire, which had almost gone out. She felt as she had felt only +once before in her life, and that had been ten years previously, when +her only child had died suddenly. She wished passionately that she were +back in Calcutta with her husband. She hated the bleak English winter, +the cruel English seas. + +Molly lay quite still for some time, her young face drawn and stricken. + +At length she got up and went to the window. It was a morning of bleak +winds and shifting clouds. The sea was just visible, very far and dim +and grey. She stood a long while gazing stonily out. + +"Can I get you anything, darling?" said Mrs. Langdale's voice softly +behind her. + +"No, thank you," the girl said, without turning. "Please leave me; +that's all!" + +And Mrs. Langdale crept away through the hushed house to her own +apartment, there to lay down her head and cry herself exhausted. Dear, +gallant Charlie! Her heart ached for him. His irrepressible gaiety, his +reckless generosity, these had become the attributes of a hero for ever +in her eyes. + +After a while her hostess came to her, pale and tearful, to beg her, if +she possibly could, to show herself at the breakfast table. Captain +Fisher had repeatedly asked for her, she said; and he seemed very +uneasy. + +Mrs. Langdale rose, washed her face, and made an effort to powder away +the evidence of her grief. Then she went bravely down and faced the +silent crowd in the breakfast room. No one was eating anything. The very +air smote chill and cheerless as she entered. As if he had been lying in +wait for her, Fisher pounced upon her on the threshold. + +"I must speak to you for a moment," he said. "Come into the +smoking-room!" + +Mrs. Langdale accompanied him without a word. + +"How is she?" he demanded, almost before they entered. "How did she take +it?" + +There was something about Fisher just then with which Mrs. Langdale was +wholly unacquainted. He was alert, impatient, almost feverish. She +answered him with brevity. + +"I think she is stunned by the news." + +He began to pace to and fro with heavy restlessness. + +"Ask her to come to me if she is up!" he said at length. "Tell her--tell +her not to be afraid! Say I am waiting for her. I must see her." + +Mrs. Langdale hesitated. + +"She asked me to leave her alone," she said irresolutely. + +Fisher wheeled swiftly round. + +"I don't think she will refuse to see me," he said. "At least try!" + +There was entreaty in his voice, urgent entreaty, which Mrs. Langdale +found herself unable to withstand. + +She departed therefore on her thankless errand and Fisher flung himself +down at the table with his face buried in his hands. In this room but a +few short hours ago Charlie had faced and turned away his anger with all +the courage and sweetness which, combined, had made of him the hero he +was. + +It seemed to Fisher, looking back upon the interview, that the boy had +done a braver thing, had offered a sacrifice more splendid, there, in +that room, than any he had done or offered a little later down on the +howling shore. + +There came a slight sound at the door and Fisher jerked himself upright. +Molly had entered softly. She was standing, looking at him with a +strange species of wonder on her white face. He rose instantly and went +to meet her. + +"I have something to give you, Molly," he said. She raised her eyes +questioningly. + +"It was brought to me," he said, controlling his voice to quietness with +a strong effort, "after Mrs. Langdale went to tell you of--what had +happened. I wish to give it to you myself. And--afterwards to ask you a +question." + +"What is it?" Molly asked, with a sudden sharp eagerness. + +"A note," Fisher said, and gave her a folded paper. "It was found on his +dressing-table, addressed to you. His servant brought it to me." + +Molly's hand trembled as she took the missive. + +Fisher turned away from her, and stood before the window in dead +silence. There was a long, quiet pause. Then a sudden sound made him +swing swiftly round and stride to the door to turn the key. The next +moment he was stooping over Molly, who had sunk down on the hearth-rug +and was sobbing terrible, anguished sobs. + +He lifted her to a chair with no fuss of words, and knelt beside her, +stroking her hair, comforting her, with something of a woman's +tenderness. + +Molly suffered him passively, and the first wild agony of her trouble +spent itself unrestrained on his shoulder. Then she grew calmer, and +presently begged him in a whisper to read the message which Charlie had +left behind him. + +For a moment Fisher hesitated; then, as she repeated her desire, he took +up the scrawl and deliberately read it through. It had evidently been +written immediately after his interview with the writer. + + "Dear Molly," the note said, "It's all right with Fisher, so + don't you worry yourself! I clear out to-morrow, so that there + may be no awkwardness, but we haven't quarrelled, he and I. + Forget all about this business! It's been a mistake from start + to finish. I ought to have known that I was only fit to be a + looker-on when I fell at the first fence. You put your money on + Fisher and you'll never lose a halfpenny! I'm nothing but a + humble spectator, and I wish you--and him also--the best of + luck. If I might be permitted, to offer a little, serious, + fatherly advice, it would be this: + + "Don't let yourself get dazzled by the outside shine of any + man's actions! A man isn't necessarily a hero because he + doesn't run away. It is the true-hearted, steady-going chaps + like Fisher who keep the world wagging. They are the solid + material. The others are only a sort of trimming stuck on for + effect and torn off when the time comes for something new. So + marry the man you love, Molly, and forget that anyone else ever + made a fool of himself for your sweet sake! + + "Your friend for ever, + + "Charlie." + +Thus ended, with a simplicity sublime, the few words of fatherly advice +which as a legacy this boy had left behind him. + +Fisher laid the note reverently aside and spoke with a great gentleness. + +"Tell me, dear," he said, "will it make it any easier for you if I go +away? If so--you have only to say so." + +The words cost him greater resolution than any he had ever uttered. Yet +he said them without apparent effort. + +Molly did not answer him for many seconds. Her head drooped a little +lower. + +"I have been--dazzled," she said at last, and there was a piteous quiver +in her voice. "I do not know if I shall ever make you understand." + +"You need never attempt it, Molly," he answered very steadily. "I make +no claim upon you. Simply, I am yours to keep or to throw away. Which +are you going to do?" + +He paused for her answer. But she made none. Only in her trouble it +seemed to him that she clung to his support. + +He drew her a little closer to him. + +"Molly," he said very tenderly, "do you want me, child? Shall I stay?" + +And at length she answered him, realising that it was to this man, hero +or no hero, she had given her heart. + +"Yes, stay, Gerald!" she whispered earnestly. "I want you." + + * * * + +Perhaps he understood her better than she thought. Perhaps Charlie's +last words to him had taught him a wisdom to which he had not otherwise +attained. Or perhaps his love was large enough to cover and hide all +that might be lacking in that which she offered to him. + +But at least neither then nor later did he ever seek to know how deeply +the glamour of another man's heroism had pierced her heart. She tried to +whisper an explanation, but he hushed the words unuttered. + +"It is all right, child," he said. "I am satisfied. It is only the +lookers-on who are allowed to see all the cards. I think when we meet +him again he will tell us that we played them right." + +There was a deep quiver in his voice as he spoke, but there was no lack +of confidence in his words. Looking upwards, Molly saw that his eyes +were full of tears. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE SECOND FIDDLE + + +A low whistle floated through the slumbrous silence and died softly away +among the sand-dunes. + +The man who sat in the little wooden summer-house that faced the sea +raised his head from his hand and stared outwards. The signal had +scarcely penetrated to his inner consciousness, but it had vaguely +disturbed his train of thought. His eyes were dull and emotionless as he +stared across the blue, smiling water to the long, straight line of the +horizon. They were heavy also as if he had not slept for weeks, and +there were deep lines about his clean-shaven mouth. + +Before him on the rough, wooden table lay a letter--a letter that he +knew by heart, yet carried always with him. The writing upon it was firm +and regular, but unmistakably a woman's. It began: "Dear Hugh," and it +ended: "Yours very sincerely," and it had been written to tell him that +because he was crippled for life the writer could no longer entertain +the idea of sharing hers with him. + +There had been a ring enclosed with the letter, but this he had not +kept. He had dropped it into the heart of a blazing fire on the day +that he had first been able to move without assistance. He had not done +it in anger. Simply the consciousness of possessing it had been a pain +intolerable to him. So he had destroyed it; but the letter he had kept +through all the dreary months that had followed that awful time. It was +all that was left to him of one whom he had loved passionately, blindly, +foolishly, and who had ceased to love him on the day, now nearly a year +ago, when his friends had ceased to call him by the nickname of +Hercules, that had been his from his boyhood. + +And this was her wedding-day--a day of entrancing sunshine, of magic +breezes, of perfect June. + +He was picturing her to himself as he sat there, just as he had pictured +her often--ah, often--in the old days. + +From his place near the altar he watched her coming towards him up the +great, white-decked church. Her eyes were shining with unclouded +happiness. Behind her bridal veil he caught a glimpse of the exquisite +beauty that chained his heart. Straight towards him the vision moved, +and he--he braced himself to meet it. + +A sharp pang of physical pain suddenly wrung his nerves, and in a moment +the vision had passed from his eyes. He groaned and once more covered +his face. Yes, it was her wedding-day. She was there before the altar in +all the splendour of her youth and her loveliness. But he was alone +with his suffering, his broken life, and the long, long, empty years +stretching away before him. + +He awoke to the soft splashing of the summer tide, out beyond the +sand-dunes, and he heard again the clear, low whistle which before had +disturbed his dream. + +He remained motionless, and a dim, detached wonder crossed his mind. He +had thought himself quite alone. + +Again the whistle sounded. It seemed to come from immediately below him. +Slowly and painfully he raised himself. + +The next instant an enormous Newfoundland dog rushed panting into his +retreat and proceeded to search every inch of the place with violent +haste. The man on the bench sat still and watched him, but when the +animal with a sudden, clumsy movement knocked his crutches on to the +floor and out of his reach, he uttered an exclamation of annoyance. + +The dog gave him a startled glance and continued his headlong +investigation. He was very wet, and he left a trail of sea water +wherever he went. Finally he bounded out as hurriedly as he had entered, +and Hugh Durant was left a prisoner, the nearest of his crutches a full +yard away. + +He sat and stared at them with a heavy frown. His helplessness always +oppressed him far more than the pain he had to endure. He cursed the dog +under his breath. + +"Oh, I am sorry!" a voice said suddenly some seconds later. "Let me get +them for you!" + +Durant looked round sharply. A brown-faced girl in a short, cotton dress +stood in the doorway. Her head was bare and covered with short, black, +curly hair that shone wet in the sunshine. Her eyes were very blue. For +some reason she looked rather ashamed of herself. + +She moved forward barefooted and picked up Durant's crutches. + +"I'm sorry, sir," she said again. "I didn't know there was any one here +till I heard Caesar knock something down." + +She dusted the tops of the crutches with her sleeve and propped them +against the table. + +"Thanks!" said Durant curtly. He was not feeling sociable--he could not +feel sociable--on that day of all days in his life's record. + +Yet, as if attracted by something, the girl lingered. + +"It's lovely down on the shore," she said half shyly. + +"No doubt," said Durant, and again his tone was curt to churlishness. + +Then abruptly he felt that he had been unnecessarily surly, and wondered +if he was getting querulous. + +"Been bathing?" he asked, with a brief glance at her wet hair. + +She gave him a quick, friendly smile. + +"Yes, sir," she said; and added: "Caesar and I." + +"Fond of the sea, eh?" said Durant. + +The soft eyes shone, and the man, who had been a sailor, told himself +that they were deep-sea eyes. + +"I love it," the girl said very earnestly. + +Her intensity surprised him a little. He had not expected it in one who, +to judge by her dress, must be a child of the humble fisher-folk. His +interest began to awaken. + +"You live near here?" he questioned. + +She pointed a brown hand towards the sand-dunes. + +"On the shore, sir," she said. "We hear the waves all night." + +"So do I," said Durant, and his voice was suddenly sharp with a pain he +could not try to silence. "All night and all day." + +She did not seem to notice his tone. + +"You live in the cottage on the cliff?" she asked. + +He nodded. + +"I came last week," he said. "I hadn't seen the sea for nearly a year. I +wanted to be alone. And--so I am." + +"All alone?" she queried quickly. + +He nodded again. + +"With my servant," he said. He repeated with a certain doggedness: "I +wanted to be alone." + +There was a pause. The girl was standing in the doorway. Her dog was +basking in the sunshine not a yard away. She looked at the cripple with +thoughtful eyes. + +"I live alone, too," she said. "That is--Caesar and I." + +That successfully aroused Durant's curiosity. + +"You!" he said incredulously. + +She put up her hand with a quick movement and pushed the short curls +back from her forehead. + +"I am used to it," she said, with an odd womanly dignity. "I have been +practically alone all my life." + +Durant looked at her closely. She spoke in a very low voice, but there +were rich notes in it that caught his attention. + +"Isn't that very unusual for a girl of your age?" he said. + +She smiled again without answering. A blue sunbonnet dangled on her arm. +In the silence that followed she put it on. The great dog arose at the +action, stretched himself, and went to her side. She laid her hand on +his head. + +"We play hide-and-seek, Caesar and I," she said, "among the dunes." + +Durant took his crutches and stumbled with difficulty to his feet. The +lower part of his body was terribly crippled and weak. Only the broad +shoulders of the man testified to the splendid strength that had once +been his, and could never be his again as long as he lived. He saw the +girl turn her head aside as he moved. The sunbonnet completely hid her +face. A sharp spasm of pain set his own like a stone mask. + +Suddenly she looked round. + +"Will you--will you come and see me some day?" she asked him shyly. + +Her tone was rather of request than invitation, and Durant was curiously +touched. He had a feeling that she awaited his reply with eagerness. + +He smiled for the first time. + +"With pleasure," he said courteously, "if the path is easy and the +distance not too great for my powers." + +"It is quite close," she said readily, "hardly a stone's throw from +here--a little wooden cottage--the first you come to." + +"And you live quite alone?" Durant said. + +"I like it best," she assured him. + +"Will you tell me your name?" he asked. + +"My name is Molly," she answered quietly. + +"Nothing else?" said Durant with a puzzled frown. + +"Nothing else, sir," she said, with her air of womanly dignity. + +He made no outward comment, but inwardly he wondered. Was this odd +little, dark-haired creature some nameless waif of the sea brought up on +the charity of the fisher-folk, he asked himself. + +She stood aside for him to pass, drawing Caesar out of his way. He +stopped a moment to pat the dog's head. And so standing, leaning upon +his crutches, he suddenly and keenly looked into the olive-tinted face +that the sunbonnet shadowed. + +"Sorry for me, eh?" he said, and he uttered a laugh that was short and +very bitter. + +She bent down over the dog. + +"Yes, I am sorry," she said, almost under her breath. + +Bending lower, she picked up something that lay on the ground between +them. + +"You dropped this," she said. + +He took it from her with a grim hardening of the mouth. It was the +letter he had received from his _fiancee_ a year ago. But his eyes never +left the face of the girl before him. + +"I wonder--" he said abruptly, and stopped. + +There was a pause. The girl waited, her hand nervously caressing the +Newfoundland's curls. She did not raise her eyes, but the lids fluttered +strangely. + +"I wonder," Durant said, and his voice was suddenly kind, "if I might +ask you to do something for me." + +She gave him a swift glance. + +"Please do!" she murmured. + +"This letter," he said, and he held it out to her. + +"I should like it torn up--very small." + +She took the envelope and hesitated. Durant was watching her. There was +unmistakable mastery in his eyes. + +"Go on!" he said briefly. + +And with a quick, startled movement, she obeyed. The letter fluttered +around them both in tiny fragments. Hugh Durant looked on with a hard, +impassive face, as he might have looked on at an execution. + +The girl's hands were shaking. She glanced at him once or twice +uncertainly. + +When the work of destruction was accomplished she made him a nervous +curtsey and turned to go. + +Durant's face softened a second time into a smile. + +"Thank you--Molly," he said, and he put his hand to his hat though she +was not looking at him. + +And afterwards he stood among the fragments of his letter and watched +till both the girl and the dog were out of sight. + +Twenty-four hours later Hugh Durant stood on the sandy shore and tapped +with his crutch on the large, flat stone that was set for a step on the +threshold of the little, wooden cottage behind the sand dunes. + +He had reached the place with much difficulty, persevering with a +doggedness characteristic of him; and there were great drops on his +forehead though the afternoon was cloudy and cool. + +A quick step sounded in answer to his summons, and in a moment his +hostess appeared at the open door. + +"Why didn't you come straight in?" she said hospitably. + +She was dressed in lilac print. Her sleeves were turned up to the +elbows, and she wore a big apron with a bib. He noticed that her feet +were no longer bare. + +He took off his hat as he answered. + +"Perhaps I might have been tempted to do so," he said, "if I had felt +equal to mounting the step without assistance." + +"Oh!" She pulled down her sleeves hastily. "Will you let me help you?" +she suggested shyly. + +Durant's eyes were slightly drawn with pain. Nevertheless they were very +friendly as he made reply. + +"Do you think you can?" he said. + +She took his hat from him with an anxious smile, and then the crutch +that he held towards her. + +"Tell me exactly what to do!" she said in her sweet, low voice. "I am +very strong." + +"If I may put my arm on your shoulder," Durant said, "I think it can be +managed. But say at once if it is too much for you!" + +Her face was deeply flushed as she bent from the step to give him the +help he needed. + +"Bear harder!" she said, as he leant his weight upon her. "Bear much +harder!" + +There was an odd little quiver in her voice, but, slight as she was, she +supported him with sturdy strength. + +The door opened straight into the tiny cottage parlour. A large wicker +chair, well cushioned, stood in readiness. As Durant lowered himself +into it, he saw that the girl's eyes were brimming with tears. + +"I've hurt you!" he exclaimed. + +"No, no!" she said, and turned quickly away. "You didn't bear nearly +hard enough." + +He laughed a little, though his teeth were clenched. + +"You're a very strong woman, Molly," he said. + +"Oh, I am," she answered instantly. "Now shall you be all right while I +go to fetch tea?" + +"Of course," he said. "Pray don't make a stranger of me!" + +She disappeared into the room at the back of the cottage, and he was +left alone. The great dog came in with stately stride and lay down at +his feet. + +Durant sat and looked about him. There was little to attract the eye in +the simple furnishing of the tiny room. There was a small bookcase in +one corner, but it was covered by a red curtain. Two old-fashioned Dutch +figures stood on the mantelpiece on each side of a cheap little clock +that seemed to tick at him almost resentfully. The walls were tinted +green and bore no pictures or decoration of any sort. There was a plain +white tablecloth on the table, and in the middle stood a handleless jug +filled with pink and white wild roses, freshly gathered. There was no +carpet. The floor was strewn with beach sand. + +All these details Durant took in with keen interest. Nothing could have +exceeded the simplicity of this dwelling by the sea. There had obviously +been no attempt at artistic arrangement. Cleanliness and a neatness +almost severe were its only characteristics. + +"I hope you like toasted scones, sir," said Molly's voice in the +doorway. + +He looked round to see her come forward with the tea-tray. + +"Nothing better," he said lightly, "particularly if you have made them +yourself." + +She set down her tray and smiled at him. Her short, curling hair gave +her an almost elfish look. + +"I've been so busy getting ready," she said childishly. "I've never had +a gentleman to tea before." + +"That is a very great honour for me," said Durant. + +Molly looked delighted. + +"I think the honour is mine," she said in her shy voice. "I am just +going to fetch the wooden chair out of the kitchen." + +She departed hastily as if embarrassed, and Durant smiled to himself. It +was wonderful how the oppression had been lifted from his spirit since +his meeting with this lonely dweller on the shore. + +When Molly reappeared, he saw that she had assumed a dignity worthy of +the occasion. She sat down behind the brown teapot with a serious face. +He waited for her to lead the conversation, and the result was complete +silence for some seconds. + +Then she said suddenly: + +"Have you been sitting in the summer-house again?" + +"No," said Durant. + +"I am glad of that," said Molly. + +"Why?" he asked. + +She hesitated. + +"Isn't it rather a lonely place?" she said. + +He smiled faintly. + +"You know I came here to be lonely, Molly," he said. + +"Yes; you told me," said Molly, and he fancied that he heard her sigh. + +"Are you never lonely?" he asked in a kindly tone. + +"Often," she said. "Often." + +She was pouring the tea as she spoke. Her head was slightly bent. + +"And so you took pity on me?" said Durant. + +She shook her head suddenly and vigorously. + +"It wasn't that, sir," she said in a very low voice. "I--I +wanted--someone--to speak to." + +"I see," said Durant gently. He added after a moment: "Do you know, I am +glad I chanced to be that someone." + +She smiled at him over the teapot. + +"You weren't pleased--at first," she said. "You were angry. I heard you +saying--" + +"What?" said Durant. + +He looked across at her and laughed naturally, spontaneously, for the +first time. + +Molly had forgotten to be either embarrassed or dignified. + +"I don't know what it was," she said; "I only know what it sounded +like." + +"And that made you want to speak to me?" said Durant. + +The brown face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that +there was sadness in her eyes. + +"It didn't frighten me away," she said. + +"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now," +said Hugh Durant quietly. + +She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest. +Then, changing her mind, she remained silent. + +"Yes," he said. "Please say it!" + +She shook her head without speaking. + +But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity. + +"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked. + +She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side, +looking down at him. + +"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically. + +He laughed rather drearily. + +"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said. + +And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly +turned the conversation. + +Later, when he took his leave, he stood on her step and looked out to +the long, grey line of sea with a faint, dissatisfied frown on his face. + +"You're not afraid--living here?" he asked her at the last moment. + +"What is there to fear?" said Molly. "I have Caesar, and there are other +cottages not far away." + +"Yes, I know," he said. "But at night--when it's dark--" + +A sudden glory shone in the girl's pure eyes. + +"Oh, no, sir," she said. "I am not afraid." + +And he departed, hobbling with difficulty up the long, sandy slope. + +At the top he paused and looked out over the grey, unquiet sea. The +dissatisfaction on his face had given place to perplexity and a faint, +dawning wonder that was like the birth of Hope. + + * * * + +During the long summer days that followed, that strange friendship, +begun at the moment when Hugh Durant's life had touched its lowest point +of suffering and misery, ripened into a curiously close intimacy. + +The girl was his only visitor--the only friend who penetrated behind the +barrier of loneliness that he had erected for himself. He had sought the +place sick at heart and utterly weary of life, desiring only to be left +alone. And yet, oddly enough, he did not resent the intrusion of this +outsider, who had openly told him that she was sorry. + +She visited him occasionally at his hermitage, but more frequently she +would seek him out in his summer-house and take possession of him there +with a winning enchantment that he made no effort to resist. Sometimes +she brought him tea there; sometimes she persuaded him to return with +her to her cottage on the shore. + +The embarrassment had wholly passed from her manner. She was eager and +ingenuous as a child. And yet there was something in her--a depth of +feeling, a concentration half-revealed--that made him aware of her +womanhood. She was never confidential with him, but yet he felt her +confidence in every word she uttered. + +And the life that had ebbed so low turned in the man's veins and began +to flow with a steady, rising surge of which he was only vaguely +conscious. + +Molly had become his keenest interest. He had ceased to think with +actual pain of the woman who had loved his strength, but had shrunk in +horror from his weakness. His bitterness had seemed to disperse with the +fragments of her torn letter. It was only a memory to him now--scarcely +even that. + +"This place has done me a lot of good," he said to Molly one day. "I +have written to my friend Gregory Mountfort to come and see me. He is my +doctor." + +She looked up at him quickly. She was sitting on her doorstep and the +August sunlight was on her hair. There were wonderful glints of gold +among the dark curls. + +"Shall you go away, then?" she asked. + +"I may--soon," he said. + +She was silent, bending over some work that she had taken up. The man +looked down at the bowed head. The old look of perplexity, of wonder, +was in his eyes. + +"What shall you do?" he said abruptly. + +She made a startled movement, but did not raise her eyes. + +"I shall just--go on," she said, in a voice that was hardly audible. + +"Not here," he said. "You will be lonely." + +There was an unusual note of mastery in his voice. She glanced up, and +met his eyes resolutely for a moment. + +"I am used to loneliness," she said slowly. + +"But you don't prefer it?" he said. + +She bent her head again. + +"Yes, I prefer it," she said. + +There followed a pause. Then abruptly Durant asked a question. + +"Are you still sorry for me?" he said. + +"No," said Molly. + +He bent slightly towards her. Movement had become much easier to him of +late. + +"Molly," he said very gently, "that is the kindest thing you have ever +said." + +She laughed in a queer, shaky note over her work. + +He bent nearer. + +"You have done a tremendous lot for me," he said, speaking very softly. +"I wonder if I dare ask of you--one thing more?" + +She did not answer. He put his hand on her shoulder. + +"Molly," he said, "will you marry me?" + +"No," said Molly under her breath. + +"Ah!" he said. "Forgive me for asking!" + +She looked up at him then with that in her eyes which he could not +understand. + +"Mr. Durant," she said, steadily, "I thank you very much, and it +isn't--that. But I can only be your friend." + +"Never anything more, Molly?" he said, and he smiled at her, very +gently, very kindly, but without tenderness. + +"No, sir," Molly said in the same steady tone. "Never anything more." + + * * * + +"Well," said Gregory Mountfort on the following day, "this place has +done wonders for you, Hugh. You're a different man." + +"I believe I am," said Hugh. + +He spoke with his eyes upon a bouquet of poppies and corn that had been +left at his door without any message early that morning. It was eloquent +to him of a friendship that did not mean to be lightly extinguished, but +his heart was heavy notwithstanding. He had begun to desire something +greater than friendship. + +"Physically," said Mountfort, "you are stronger than I ever expected to +see you again. You don't suffer much pain now, do you?" + +"No, not much," said Durant. + +He turned to stare out of his open window at the sunlit sea. His eyes +were full of weariness. + +"Look here," the doctor said. "You're not an invalid any longer. I +should leave this place if I were you. Go abroad! Go round the world! +Don't stagnate any longer! It isn't worthy of you." + +Hugh Durant shook his head. + +"It's no good trying to float a stranded hulk, dear fellow," he said. +"Don't attempt it! I am better off where I am." + +"You ought to get married," his friend returned brusquely. "You weren't +created for the lonely life." + +"I shall never marry," Durant said quietly. + +And Mountfort was disappointed. He wondered if he were still vexing his +soul over the irrevocable. + +He had motored down from town, and in the afternoon he carried his +patient off for a thirty-mile spin. They went through the depths of the +country, through tiny villages hidden among the hills, through long +stretches of pine woods, over heather-covered uplands. But though it did +him good, Durant was conscious of keenest pleasure when, returning, they +ran into view of the sea. He felt that the shore and the sand-dunes were +his own peculiar heritage. + +Mountfort steered for the village scattered over the top of the cliff. +Durant had persuaded him to remain for the night, and he had to send a +telegram. They puffed up a steep, winding hill to the post-office, and +the doctor got out. + +"Back in thirty seconds," he said, as he walked away. + +Hugh was in no hurry. It was a wonderfully calm evening. The sea looked +like a sheet of silver, motionless, silent, immense. The tide was very +low. The sand-dunes looked mere hummocks from that great height. Myriads +of martens were circling about the edge of the cliff, which was +protected by a crazy wooden railing. He sat and watched them without +much interest. He was thinking chiefly of that one cottage on the shore +a hundred feet below, which he knew so well. + +He wondered if Molly had been to the summer-house to look for him; and +then, chancing to glance up, he caught sight of her coming towards him +from the roadside. At the same instant something jerked in the motor, +and it began to move. It was facing up the hill, and the angle was a +steep one. Very slowly at first the wheels revolved, and the car moved +straight backwards as if pushed by an unseen hand. + +Hugh realised the danger in a moment. The road curved sharply not a +dozen yards behind him, and at that curve was the sheer precipice of the +cliff. He was powerless to apply the brakes, and he could not even throw +himself out. The sudden consciousness of this ran through him piercing +as a sword-blade. + +In every pulse of his being he felt the intense, the paralysing horror +of violent death. For the first awful moment he could not even call for +help. The sensation of falling headlong backwards gripped his throat +and choked his utterance. + +He made a wild, ineffectual movement with his hands. And then he heard a +loud cry. A woman's figure flashed towards him. She seemed to swoop as +the martens swooped along the face of the cliff. The car was running +smoothly towards that awful edge. He felt that it was very +near--horribly near; but he could not turn to look. + +Even as the thought darted through his brain he saw Molly, wide-eyed, +frenzied, clinging to the side of the car. She was in the act of +springing on to it, and that knowledge loosened his tongue. + +He yelled to her hoarsely to keep away. He even tried to thrust her +hands off the woodwork. But she withstood him fiercely, with a strength +that agonised and overcame. In a second she was on the step, where she +swayed perilously, then fell forward on her hands and knees at his feet. + +The car continued to run back. There came a sudden jerk, a crash of +rending wood, a frightful pause. The railing had splintered. They were +on the brink. Hugh bent and tried to take her in his arms. + +He was strung to meet that awful plunge; he was face to face with death; +but--was it by some miracle?--the car was stayed. There, on the very +edge of destruction, with not an inch to spare, it stood suddenly +motionless, as if checked by some mysterious, unseen force. + +As complete understanding returned to him, Hugh saw that the woman at +his feet had thrown herself upon the foot brake and was holding it +pressed down with both her rigid hands. + + * * * + +"Yes; but who taught her where to look for the brake?" said Mountfort +two hours later. + +The excitement was over, but the subject fascinated Mountfort. The girl +had sprung away and disappeared down one of the cliff paths directly +Hugh had been extricated from danger. Mountfort was curious about her, +but Hugh was uncommunicative. He had no answer ready to Mountfort's +question. He scarcely seemed to hear it. + +Barely a minute after its utterance he reached for his crutches and got +upon his feet. + +"I am going down to the shore," he said. "I shan't sleep otherwise. +You'll excuse me, old fellow?" + +Mountfort looked at him and nodded. He was very intimate with Hugh. + +"Don't mind me!" he said. + +And Hugh went out alone in the summer dusk. + +The night was almost ghostly in its stillness. He went down the winding +path that he knew so well without a halt. Far away the light of a +steamer travelled over the quiet water. The sea murmured drowsily as the +tide rose. It was not quite dark. + +Outside her cottage-door he stopped and tapped upon the stone. The door +stood open, and as he waited he heard a clear, low whistle behind him on +the dunes. She was coming towards him, the great dog Caesar bounding by +her side. As she drew near he noticed again how slight she was, and +marvelled at her strength. + +She reached him in silence. The light was very dim. He put out his hand +to her, but somehow he could not utter a word. + +"I knew it must be you," she said. "I--I was waiting for you." + +She put her hand into his; but still the man stood mute. No words would +come to him. + +She looked at him uncertainly, almost nervously. Then-- + +"What is it?" she asked, under her breath. + +He spoke at last but not to utter the words she expected. + +"I haven't come to say, 'Thank you,' Molly," he said. "I have come to +ask why." + +"Oh!" said Molly. + +She was startled, confused, almost scared, by the mastery that underlay +the gentleness of his tone. He kept her hand in his, standing there, +facing her in the dimness; and, cripple as he was, she knew him for a +strong man. + +"I have come to ask," he said--"and I mean to know--why yesterday you +refused to marry me." + +She made a quick movement. His words astounded her. She felt inclined to +run away. But he kept her prisoner. + +"Don't be afraid of me, Molly!" he said half sadly. "You had a reason. +What was it." + +She bit her lip. Her eyes were full of sudden tears. + +"Tell me!" he said. + +And she answered, as if he compelled her: + +"It was because--because you don't love me," she said with difficulty. + +She felt his hand tighten upon hers. + +"Ah!" he said. "And that was--the only reason?" + +Molly was trembling. + +"It was the only reason that mattered," she said in a choked voice. + +He leant towards her in the dusk. + +"Molly," he said. "Molly, I worship you!" + +She heard the deep quiver in his voice, and it thrilled her from head to +foot. She began to sob, and he drew her towards him. + +"Wait!" she said, "Oh, wait! Come inside, and I'll tell you!" + +He went in with her, leaning on her shoulder. + +"Sit down!" whispered Molly. "I'm going to tell you something." + +"Don't cry!" he said gently. "It may be something I know already." + +"Oh, no, it isn't!" she said with conviction. + +She stood before him in the twilight, her hands clasped tightly +together. + +"Do you remember a girl called Mary Fielding?" she said, with a piteous +effort to control her voice. "She used to be the friend of--of--your +_fiancee_, Lady Maud Belville, long ago, before you had your accident." + +He nodded gravely. + +"I remember her," he said. + +"I don't suppose you ever noticed her much," the girl continued shakily. +"She was uninteresting, and always in the background." + +"I should know her anywhere," said Durant with confidence. + +"No, no," she protested. "I'm sure you wouldn't. You--you never gave her +a second thought, though she--was foolish enough--idiotic enough--to--to +care whether you did or not." + +"Was she?" he said softly. "Was she? And was that why she came to live +among the sand-dunes and cut off her hair and wore print +dresses--and--and made life taste sweet to me again?" + +"Ah! You know now!" she said, with a sound that was like laughter +through tears. + +He held out his arms to her. + +"My darling," he said. "I knew on the first day I saw you here." + +She knelt down beside him with a quick, impulsive movement. + +"You--knew!" she gasped incredulously. + +He smiled at her with great tenderness. + +"I knew," he said, "and I wondered--how I wondered--what you had come +for!" + +"I only came to be a friend," she broke in hastily, "to--to try to help +you through your bad time." + +"I guessed it must be that," he said softly over her bowed head, "when +you said 'No' to me yesterday." + +"But you didn't tell me you cared," protested Molly. + +"No," he said. "I was so horribly afraid that you might take me out of +pity, Molly." + +"And I--I wasn't going to be second fiddle!" said Molly waywardly. + +She resisted him a little as he turned her face upwards, but he had his +way. There was a quiver of laughter in his voice when he spoke again. + +"You could never be that," he said. "You were made to lead the +orchestra. Still, tell me why you did it, darling! Make me understand!" + +And Molly yielded at length with her arms about his neck. + +"I loved you!" she said passionately. "I loved you!" + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE WOMAN OF HIS DREAM + +PROLOGUE + + +It was growing very dark. The decks gleamed wet in the light of the +swinging lamps. The wind howled across the sea like a monster in +torment. It would be a fearful night. + +The man who stood clutching at the slanting deck rail was drenched from +head to foot, but, despite this fact, he had no thought of going below. +Reginald Carey had been for many voyages on many seas, but the +fascination of a storm in the bay attracted him irresistibly still. He +had no sympathy with the uneasy crowd in the saloons. He even exulted in +the wild tumult of wind and sea and blinding rain. He was as one +spellbound in the grip of the tempest. + +Curt and dry of speech, abrupt at times almost to rudeness, he was a man +of whom most people stood in awe, and with whom very few were on terms +of intimacy. Yet in the world of men he had made his mark. + +By camp-fires and on the march, in prison and in hospital, Carey the +journalist had become a byword for coolness and endurance. It was +Carey, caustic of humour, uncompromising of attitude, who sauntered +through a hail of bullets to fill a wounded man's water-tin; Carey who +pushed his way among stampeding mules to rescue sorely needed medical +stores; Carey who had limped beside footsore, jaded men, and whistled +them out of their depression. + +There were two fingers missing from Carey's left hand, and the limp had +become permanent when he sailed home from South Africa at the end of the +war, but he was the personal friend of half the army though there was +not a single man who could boast that he knew him thoroughly well. For +none knew exactly what this man, who scoffed so freely at disaster, +carried in his heart. + +As he leaned on the rail of the tossing vessel, gazing steadfastly into +the howling darkness, his face was as serene as if he sailed a summer +sea. The great waves that dashed their foam over him as he stood were +powerless to raise fear in his soul! He stood as one apart--a lonely +watcher whom no danger could appal. + +It was growing late, but he took no count of time. More than once he had +been hoarsely advised to go below, but he would not go. He believed +himself to be the only passenger on deck, and he clung to his solitude. +The bare thought of the stuffy saloon was abhorrent to him. He marvelled +that no one else had developed the same distaste. + +And with the thought he turned, breathless from the buffeting spray of a +mighty wave, to find a woman standing near him on the swirling deck. + +She stood poised lightly as a bird prepared for flight, her head bare, +her face upturned to the storm. Her hands were fast gripped upon the +rail, and the gleam of a gold ring caught Carey's eye. He saw that she +was unconscious of his presence. The shifting, uncertain light had not +revealed him. For a space he stood watching her, unperceived, wondering +at the courage that upheld her. Her hair had blown loose in the wind, +and lay in a black mass upon her neck. He could not see her features, +but her bearing was superb. + +And then at length, as if his quiet scrutiny had somehow touched in her +a responsive chord, she turned her head and saw him. Their eyes met, and +a curious thrill ran tingling through the man's veins. He had never seen +this woman before, but as she looked at him, with wonderful dark eyes +that seemed to hold a passionate exultation in their depths, he suddenly +felt as if he had known her all his life. They were comrades. It was no +hysterical panic that had driven her up from below. Like himself, she +had been drawn by the magic of the storm. + +Impulsively, almost involuntarily, he moved a pace towards her and +stretched out a hand along the dripping rail. + +She gave him her own instantly and confidently, responding to his +action with absolute simplicity. It was a gesture of sympathy, of +fellowship. She bore herself as a queen, but she did not condescend to +him. + +No words passed between them. Both realised the impossibility of speech +in that shrieking tempest. Moreover, there was no need for speech. +Earth's petty conventions had fallen away from them. They were as +children standing hand in hand on the edge of the unknown, hearing the +same thunderous music, bound by the same magic spell. + +Carey wondered later how long a time elapsed whilst they stood thus, +intently watching. It might have been for merely a few minutes, or it +might have been for the greater part of an hour. He never knew. + +The spell broke at length suddenly and terribly, with a grinding crash +that flung them both sideways upon the slippery deck. He went down, +still clinging instinctively to the rail, and the next instant, by its +aid, he was on his feet again, dragging his companion up with him. + +There followed a pause--a shuddering, expectant pause--while wind and +sea raged all around them like beasts of prey. And through it there came +the sound of the engine throbbing impotently spasmodically, like the +heart of a dying man. Quite suddenly it ceased, and there was a +frightful uproar of escaping steam. The deck on which they stood began +to tilt slowly upwards. + +Carey knew what had happened. They had struck a rock in that awful +darkness, and they were going down with frightful rapidity into the +seething, storm-tossed water. + +He had never been shipwrecked before, but, as by instinct, he realised +the madness of remaining where he was. A coil of rope lay almost at his +feet, and he stooped and seized it. There had come a brief lull in the +storm, but he knew that there was not a moment to spare. Still +supporting his companion, he began to bind the rope around them both. + +She looked up at him quickly, and he saw her lips move in protest. She +even set her hands against his breast, as if to resist him. But he +overcame her almost savagely. It was no moment for argument. + +The slope of the deck was becoming every instant more acute. The wind +was racing back across the sea. Above them--very far above them, it +seemed--there was a confusion of figures, but the tumult of wind and +waves drowned all other sound. Carey's feet began to slip on that awful +slant. They were sinking rapidly, rapidly. + +He knotted the rope and gathered himself together. An instant he hung on +the rail, breathing deeply. Then with a jerk he relaxed his grip and +leaped blindly into the howling darkness, hurling himself and the woman +with him far into the raging sea. + + * * * + +It was suffocatingly hot. Carey raised his arms with a desperate +movement. He felt as if he were swimming in hot vapour. And he had been +swimming for a long time, too. He was deadly tired. A light flashed in +his eyes, and very far above him--like an object viewed through the +small end of a telescope--he saw a face. Vaguely he heard a voice +speaking, but what it said was beyond his comprehension. It seemed to +utter unintelligible things. For a while he laboured to understand, then +the effort became too much for him. The light faded from his brain. + +Later--much later, it seemed--he awoke to full consciousness, to find +himself in a Breton fisherman's cottage, watched over by a kindly little +French doctor who tended him as though he had been his brother. + +"_Monsieur_ is better, but much better," he was cheerily assured. "And +for _madame_ his wife he need have no inquietude. She is safe and well, +and only concerns herself for _monsieur_." + +This was reassuring, and Carey accepted it without comment or inquiry. +He knew that there was a misunderstanding somewhere, but he was still +too exhausted to trouble himself about so slight a matter. He thanked +his kindly informant, and again he slept. + +Two days later his interest in life revived. He began to ask questions, +and received from the doctor a full account of what had occurred. + +He had been washed ashore, he was told--he and _madame_ his +wife--lashed fast together. The ship had been wrecked within half a mile +of the land. But the seas had been terrific. There had not been many +survivors. + +Carey digested the news in silence. He had had no friends on board, +having embarked only at Gibraltar. + +At length he looked up with a faint smile at his faithful attendant. +"And where is--_madame_?" he asked. + +The little doctor hesitated, and spread out his hands deprecatingly. + +"Oh, _monsieur_, I regret--I much regret--to have to inform you that she +is already departed for Paris. Her solicitude for you was great, was +pathetic. The first words she speak were: 'My husband, do not let him +know!' as though she feared that you would be distressed for her. And +then she recover quick, quick, and say that she must go--that _monsieur_ +when he know, will understand. And so she depart early in the morning of +yesterday while _monsieur_ is still asleep." + +He was watching Carey with obvious anxiety as he ended, but the +Englishman's face expressed nothing but a somewhat elaborate +indifference. + +"I see," he said, and relapsed into silence. + +He made no further reference to the matter, and the doctor discreetly +abstained from asking questions. He presently showed him an English +paper which contained the information that Mr. and Mrs. Carey were among +the rescued. + +"That," he remarked, "will alleviate the anxiety of your friends." + +To which Carey responded, with a curt laugh: "No one knew that we were +on board." + +He left for Paris on the following day, allowing the doctor to infer +that he was on his way to join his wife. + + +I + +It was growing dark in the empty class-room, but there was nothing left +to do, and the French mistress, sitting alone at her high desk, made no +move to turn on the light. All the lesson books were packed away out of +sight. There was not so much as a stray pencil trespassing upon that +desert of orderliness. Only the waste-paper basket, standing behind +_Mademoiselle_ Treves's chair, gave evidence of the tempest of energy +that had preceded this empty calm in the midst of which she sat alone. +It was crammed to overflowing with torn exercise books, and all manner +of schoolgirls' rubbish, and now and then it creaked eerily in the +desolate silence as though at the touch of an invisible hand. + +It was very cold in the great room, for the fire had gone out long ago. +There was no one left to enjoy it except _mademoiselle_, who apparently +did not count. For most of the pupils had departed in the morning, and +those who were left were collected in the great hall speeding one after +another upon their homeward way. All day the wheels of cabs had crunched +the gravel below the class-room window, but they were not so audible +now, for the ground was thickly covered with snow, which had been +drearily falling throughout the afternoon. + +It lay piled upon the window-sill, casting a ghostly light into the +darkening room, vaguely outlining the slender figure that sat so still +before the high desk. + +Another cab-load of laughing girls was just passing out at the gate. +There could not be many left. The darkness increased, and _mademoiselle_ +drew a quick breath and shivered. She wished the departures were all +over. + +There came a light step in the passage, and a daring whistle, which +broke off short as a hand impetuously opened the class-room door. + +"Why, _mademoiselle!_" cried a fresh young voice. "Why, _cherie!_" Warm +arms encircled the lonely figure, and eager lips pressed the cold face. +"Oh, _cherie_, don't grizzle!" besought the newcomer. "Why, I've never +known you do such a thing before. Have you been here all this time? I've +been looking for you all over the place. I couldn't leave without one +more good-bye. And see here, _cherie_, you must--you must--come to my +birthday-party on New Year's Eve. If you won't come and stay with me, +which I do think you might, you must come down for that one night. It's +no distance, you know. And it's only a children's show. There won't be +any grown-ups except my cousin Reggie, who is the sweetest man in the +world, and Mummy's Admiral who comes next. Say you will, _cherie_, for I +shall be sixteen--just think of it!--and I do want you to be there. You +will, won't you? Come, promise!" + +It was hard to refuse this petitioner, so warmly fascinating was she. +_Mademoiselle_, who, it was well known, never accepted any invitations, +hesitated for the first time--and was lost. + +"If I came just for that one evening then, Gwen, you would not press me +to stay longer?" + +"Bless you, no!" declared Gwen. "I'll drive you to the station myself in +Mummy's car to catch the first train next morning, if you'll come. And +I'll make Reggie come too. You'll just love Reggie, _cherie_. He's my +exact ideal of what a man ought to be--the best friend I have, next to +you. Well, it's a bargain then, isn't it? You'll come and help dance +with the kids--you promise? That's my own sweet _cherie_! And now you +mustn't grizzle here in the dark any longer. I believe my cab is at the +door. Come down and see me off, won't you?" + +Yet again she was irresistible. They went out together, hand in hand, +happy child and lonely woman, and the door of the deserted class-room +banged with a desolate echoing behind them. + + +II + +It was ten days later, on a foggy evening, in the end of the year, that +Reginald Carey alighted at a small wayside station, and grimly prepared +himself for a five-mile trudge through dark and muddy lanes to his +destination. + +The only conveyance in the station yard was a private motor car, and his +first glance at this convinced him that it was not there to await him. +He paused under the lamp outside to turn up his collar, and, as he did +so, a man of gigantic breadth and stature, wearing goggles, came out of +the station behind him and strode past. He glanced at Carey casually as +he went by, looked again, then suddenly stopped and peered at him. + +"Great Scotland!" he exclaimed abruptly. "I know you--or ought to. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein. +Thought there was something familiar about you the moment I saw you. You +remember me, eh?" + +He turned back his goggles impetuously, and showed Carey his face. + +Yes; Carey remembered him very well indeed, though he was not sure that +the acquaintance was one he desired to improve. He took the proffered +hand with a certain reserve. + +"Yes; I remember you. I don't think I ever heard your name, but that's a +detail. You came out of it all right, then?" + +"Oh, yes; more or less. Nothing ever hurts me." The big man's laugh had +in it a touch of bitterness. "Where are you bound for? Come along with +me in the car; I'll take you where you want to go." He seized Carey by +the shoulder, impelling him with boisterous cordiality towards the +vehicle. "Jump in, my friend. My name is Coningsby--Major Coningsby, of +Crooklands Manor--mad Coningsby I'm called about here, because I happen +to ride straighter to hounds than most of 'em. A bit of a compliment, +eh? But they're a shocking set of muffs in these parts. You don't live +here?" + +"No; I am down on a visit to my cousin, Lady Emberdale. She lives at +Crooklands Mead. I've come down a day sooner than I was expected, and +the train was two hours late. I'm Reginald Carey." He stopped before the +step of the car. "It's very good of you, but I won't take you out of +your way on such a beastly night. I can quite well walk." + +"Nonsense, man! It's no distance, and it isn't out of the way. I've only +just motored down to get an evening paper. You're just in time to dine +with me. I'm all alone, and confoundedly glad to see you. I know Lady +Emberdale well. Come, jump in!" + +Thus urged, Carey yielded, not over-willingly, and took his seat in the +car. + +Directly they started, he knew the reason for his companion's pseudonym, +for they whizzed out of the yard at a speed which must have disquieted +the stoutest nerves. + +It was the maddest ride he had ever experienced, and he wondered by what +instinct Major Coningsby kept a straight course through the darkness. +Their own lamps provided the only light there was, and when they +presently turned sharply at right angles he gathered himself together +instinctively in preparation for a smash. + +But nothing happened. They tore on a little farther in darkness, +travelling along a private road; and then the lights of a house pierced +the gloom. + +Coningsby brought his car to a standstill. + +"Tumble out! The front door is straight ahead. My man will let you in +and look after you. Excuse me a moment while I take the car round!" + +He was gone with the words, leaving Carey to ascend a flight of steps to +the hall door. It opened at once to admit him, and he found himself in a +great hall dimly illumined by firelight. A servant helped him to divest +himself of his overcoat, and silently led the way. + +The room he entered was furnished as a library. He glanced round it as +he stood on the hearth-rug, awaiting his host, and was chiefly struck by +the general atmosphere of dreariness that pervaded it. Its sombre oak +furniture seemed to absorb instead of reflecting the light. There was a +large oil-painting above the fireplace, and after a few seconds he +turned his head and saw it. It was the portrait of a woman. + +Young, beautiful, queenly, the painted face looked down into his own, +and the man's heart gave a sudden, curious throb that was half rapture +and half pain. In a moment the room he had just entered, with all the +circumstances that had taken him there, was blotted from his brain. He +was standing once more on the rocking deck of a steamer, in a tempest of +wind and rain and furious sea, facing the storm, exultant, with a +woman's hand fast gripped in his. + +"Are you looking at that picture?" said a voice. "It's my wife--dead +now--lost--five years ago--at sea!" + +Carey wheeled sharply at the jerky utterance. Coningsby was standing by +his side. He was staring upwards at the portrait, a strange gleam +darting in his eyes--a gleam not wholly sane. + +"It doesn't do her justice," he went on in the same abrupt, headlong +fashion. "But it's better than nothing. She was the only woman who ever +satisfied me. Her loss damaged me badly. I've never been the same since. +There've been others, of course, but she was always first--an easy +first. I shall want her--I shall go on wanting her--till I'm in my +grave." His voice was suddenly husky, as the voice of a man in pain. +"It's like a fiery thirst," he said. "I try to quench it--Heaven knows I +try! But it comes back--it comes back." + +He swung round on his heel and went to the table. There followed the +clink of glasses, but Carey did not turn. His eyes had left the picture, +and were fixed, stern and unwinking, upon the fire that glowed at his +feet. + +Again he seemed to feel the clasp of a woman's hand, free and confiding, +within his own. Again his heart stirred responsively in the quick warmth +of a woman's perfect sympathy. + +And he knew that into his keeping had been given the secret of that +woman's existence. The five years' mystery was solved at last. He +understood, and, understanding, he kept silent faith with her. + + +III + +It was two hours later that Carey presented himself at his cousin's +house. He entered unobtrusively, as his manner was, knowing himself to +be a welcome guest. + +The first person to greet him was Gwen, who, accompanied by a college +youth of twenty, was roasting chestnuts in front of the hall fire. She +sprang up at the sound of his voice, and, flushed and eager, rushed to +meet him. + +"Why, Reggie, my dear old boy, who would have thought of seeing you +to-night? Come right in! Aren't you very cold? How did you get here? +Have you dined? This is Charlie Rivers, the Admiral's son. Charlie, you +have heard me speak of my cousin, Mr. Carey." + +Charlie had, several times over, and said so, with a grin, as he made +room for Carey in front of the blaze, taking care to keep himself next +to Gwen. + +Carey considerately fell in with the manoeuvre and, greetings over, they +huddled sociably together over the fire, and fell to discussing the +birthday party which was to be held on the morrow. + +Gwen was a curious blend of excitement and common sense. She had been +busily preparing all day for the coming festivity. + +"There's one visitor I want you both to be very good to," she said, "and +see that she takes plenty of refreshments, whether she wants them or +not." + +Young Rivers grimaced at Carey. + +"You can have my share of this unattractive female," he said generously. +"It's Gwen's schoolmistress, and I'll bet she's as heavy as a sack of +coals." + +"I can't dance. I'm lame," said Carey. "But I don't mind sitting out in +the refreshment room to please Gwen. How old is she, Gwen? About twice +my age?" + +Gwen did not stop to calculate. + +"Older than that, I should think. Her hair is quite grey, and she's very +sad and quiet. I am sure she has had a lot of trouble. Very likely she +won't want to dance either, so there will be a pair of you. Her name is +_Mademoiselle_ Treves, but she is only half French, and speaks English +better than I do. She never goes anywhere, so I do want her to have a +good time. You will be kind to her, won't you? I'll introduce you to her +as early as possible. We are all going to wear masks till midnight." + +"Stupid things--masks," said Charlie very decidedly. "Don't like 'em." + +Gwen turned upon him. + +"It's much the fairest way. If we didn't wear them, the pretty girls +would get all the best dances." + +"Oh, well, you wouldn't be left out, anyway," he assured her. + +At which compliment Gwen sniffed contemptuously, and pointedly requested +Carey to give her a few minutes in strict privacy before they parted for +the night. + +He saw that she meant it; and when Charlie had reluctantly taken himself +off he went with his young cousin to her own little sitting-room +upstairs before seeking Lady Emberdale in the drawing-room. + +Gwen could scarcely wait till the door was closed before she began to +lay her troubles before him. + +"It's Mummy!" she told him very seriously. "You can't think how sick and +disgusted I am. Sit down, Reggie, and I'll tell you all about it! Being +Mummy's trustee, perhaps you will have some influence over her. I have +none. She thinks I'm prejudiced. And I'm not, Reggie. There's nothing to +make me so except that Charlie is a nice boy, and the Admiral a perfect +darling." + +She paused for breath, and Carey patiently waited for further +enlightenment. It came. + +"Of course," she said, seating herself on the arm of his chair, "I've +always known that Mummy would marry again some day or other. She's so +young and pretty; and I haven't minded the idea a bit. Poor, dear Dad +was always such a very, very old man! But I do want her to marry +someone nice now the time has come. All through the summer holidays I +felt sure it was going to be the Admiral, and I was so pleased about it. +Charlie and I used to make bets about its coming off before Christmas. +He was ever so pleased, too, and we'd settled to join together for the +wedding present so as to get something decent. It was all going to be so +jolly. And now," with a great sigh, "everything's spoilt. +There's--there's someone else." + +"Good heavens!" said Carey. "Who?" + +He had been suppressing a laugh during the greater part of Gwen's +confidence, but this last announcement startled him into sobriety. A +very faint misgiving stirred in his soul. What if--but no; it was +preposterous. He thrust it from him. + +Gwen slid a loving arm about his neck. + +"I like telling you things, Reggie. You always understand, and they +never worry me so much afterwards. For I am--horribly worried. Mummy met +him in the hunting field. He has come to live quite near us--oh, such a +brute he is, loud and coarse and bullying! He rode a horse to death only +a few weeks ago. They say he's mad, and I'm nearly sure he drinks as +well. And he and Mummy have chummed up. They are as thick as thieves, +and he's always coming to the house, dropping in at odd hours. The poor, +dear Admiral hasn't a chance. He's much too gentlemanly to elbow his way +in like--like this horrid Major Coningsby. Oh, Reggie, do you think you +can do anything to stop it? I don't want her to marry him, neither does +Charlie. My, Reggie, what's the matter? You don't know him, do you? You +don't know anything bad about him?" + +Carey was on his feet, pacing slowly to and fro. One hand--the maimed +left hand--was thrust away out of sight, as his habit was in a woman's +presence. The other was clenched hard at his side. + +He did not at once answer Gwen's agitated questioning. She sat and +watched him in some anxiety, wondering at the stern perplexity with +which he reviewed the problem. + +Suddenly he stopped in front of her. + +"Yes; I know the man," he said. "I knew him years ago in South Africa, +and I met him again to-night. I must think this matter over, and +consider it carefully. You are quite sure of what you say--quite sure he +is attracted by your mother?" + +Gwen nodded. + +"Oh, there's no doubt of that. He treats her already as if she were his +property. You won't tell her I told you, Reggie? It will simply +precipitate matters if you do." + +"No; I shan't tell her. I never argue with women." Carey spoke almost +savagely. He was staring at something that Gwen could not see. + +"Do you think you will be able to stop it?" she asked him, with a +slightly nervous hesitation. + +His eyes came back to her. He seemed to consider her for a moment. Then, +seeing that she was really troubled, he spoke with sudden kindliness: + +"I think so, yes. But never mind how! Leave it to me and put it out of +your head as much as possible! I quite agree with you that it is an +arrangement that wouldn't do at all. Why on earth couldn't your friend +the Admiral speak before?" + +"I wish he had," said Gwen, from her heart. "And I believe he does, too, +now. But men are so idiotic, Reggie. They always miss their +opportunities." + +"Think so?" said Carey. "Some men never have any, it seems to me." + +And he left her wondering at the bitterness of his speech. + + +IV + +The winter sunlight was streaming into Major Coningsby's gloomy library +when Carey again stood within it. The Major was out riding, he had been +told, but he was expected back ere long; and he had decided to wait for +him. + +And so he stood waiting before the portrait; and closely, critically, he +studied it by the morning light. + +It was the face which for five years now he had carried graven on his +heart. She was the one woman to him--the woman of his dream. Throughout +his wanderings he had cherished the memory of her--a secret and +priceless possession to which he clung day and night, waking and +sleeping. He had made no effort to find her during those years, but +silently, almost in spite of himself, he had kept her in his heart, had +called her to him in his dreams, yearning to her across the +ever-widening gulf, hungering dumbly for the voice he had never heard. + +He knew that he was no favourite with women. All his life his reserve +had been a barrier that none had ever sought to pass till this +woman--the woman who should have been his fate--had been drifted to him +through life's stress and tumult and had laid her hand with perfect +confidence in his. And now it was laid upon him to betray that +confidence. He no longer had the right to keep her secret. He had +protected her once, and it had been as a hidden, sacred bond invisibly +linking them together. But it could do so no longer. The time had come +to wrest that precious link apart. + +Sharply he turned from the picture. The dark eyes tortured him. They +seemed to be pleading with him, entreating him. There came a sudden +clatter without, the tramp of heavy feet, the jingle of spurs. The door +was flung noisily back, and Major Coningsby strode in. + +"Hullo! Very good of you to look me up so soon. Sorry I wasn't in to +receive you. Haven't you had a drink yet?" + +He tossed his riding-whip down upon the table, and busied himself with +the glasses. + +Carey drew near; his face was stern. + +"I have something to say to you," he said, "before we drink, if you have +no objection." + +His voice was quiet and very even, but Coningsby looked up with a quick +frown. + +"Confound you, Carey! What are you pulling a long face about this time +of the morning? Better have a drink; it'll make you feel more sociable." + +He spoke with sharp irritation. The hand that held the spirit-decanter +was not over-steady. Carey watched him--coldly critical. + +"That portrait over the mantelpiece," he said; "your wife, I think you +told me?" + +Coningsby swore a deep oath. + +"I may have told you so. I don't often mention the subject. She is +dead." + +"I beg your pardon; I am forced to mention it." Carey's tone was +deliberate, emotionless, hard. "That lady--the original of that +portrait--is still alive, to the best of my belief. At least, she was +not lost at sea on the occasion of the wreck of the _Denver Castle_ five +years ago." + +"What?" said Coningsby. He turned suddenly white--white to the lips, and +set down the decanter he was still holding as if he had been struck +powerless. "What?" he said again, with starting eyes upon Carey's face. + +"I think you understood me," Carey returned coldly. "I have told you +because, upon consideration, it seemed to me you ought to know." + +The thing was done and past recall, but deep in his heart there lurked a +savage resentment against this man who had forced him to break his +silence. He felt no sympathy with him; he only knew disgust. + +Coningsby moved suddenly with a frantic oath, and gripped him by the +shoulder. The blood was coming back to his face in livid patches; his +eyes were terrible. + +"Go on!" he said thickly. "Out with it! Tell me all you know!" + +He towered over Carey. There was violence in his grip, but Carey did +not seem to notice. He faced the giant with absolute composure. + +"I can tell you no more," he said. "I knew she was saved, because I was +saved with her. But she left Brittany while I was still too ill to +move." + +"You must know more than that!" shouted Coningsby, losing all control of +himself, and shaking his informant furiously by the shoulder. "If she +was saved, how did she come to be reported missing?" + +For a single instant Carey hesitated; then, with steady eyes upon the +bloated face above him, he made quiet reply: + +"Her name was among the missing by her own contrivance. Doubtless she +had her reasons." + +Coningsby's face suddenly changed: his eyes shone red. + +"You helped her!" he snarled, and lifted a clenched fist. + +Carey's maimed hand came quietly into view, and closed upon the man's +wrist. + +"It is not my custom," he coldly said, "to refuse help to a woman." + +"Confound you!" stormed Coningsby. "Where is she now? Where? Where?" + +There fell a sudden pause. Carey's eyes were like steel; his grasp never +slackened. + +"If I knew," he said deliberately, at length, "I should not tell you! +You are not fit for the society of any good woman." + +The words fell keen as a whip-lash, and as pitiless. Coningsby glared +into his face like a goaded bull; his look was murderous. And then by +some chance his eyes fell upon the hand that gripped his wrist. He +looked at it closely, attentively, for a few seconds, and finally set +Carey free. + +"You may thank that," he said more quietly, "for getting you out of the +hottest corner you were ever in. I didn't notice it yesterday, though I +remember now that you were wounded. So you parted with half your hand to +drag me out of that hell, did you? It was a rank, bad investment on your +part." + +He flung away abruptly, and helped himself to some brandy. A +considerable pause ensued before he spoke again. + +"Egad!" he said then, with a harsh laugh, "it's a deuced ingenious lie, +this of yours. I suppose you and that imp of mischief, Gwen, hatched it +up between you? I saw she had got her thinking-cap on yesterday. I am +not considered good enough for her lady mother. But, mark you, I'm going +to have her for all that! It isn't good for man to live alone, and I +have taken a fancy to Evelyn Emberdale." + +"You don't believe me?" Carey asked. + +Somehow, though he had been prepared for bluster and even violence, he +had not expected incredulity. + +Coningsby filled and emptied his glass a second time before he answered. + +"No," he said then, with sudden savagery: "I don't believe you! You had +better get out of my house at once, or--I warn you--I may break every +bone in your blackguardly body yet!" He turned on Carey, leaping madness +in his eyes. + +But Carey stood like a rock. "You know the truth," he said quietly. + +Coningsby broke into another wild laugh, and pointed up at the picture +above his head. + +"I shall know it," he declared, "when the sea gives up its dead. Till +that day I am free to console myself in my own way, and no one shall +stop me." + +"You are not free," Carey said. Very steadily he faced the man, very +distinctly he spoke. "And, however you console yourself, it will not be +with my cousin Lady Emberdale." + +Coningsby turned back to the table to fill his glass again. He spilt the +spirit over the cloth as he did it. + +"Man alive," he gibed, "do you think she will believe you if I don't?" + +It was the weak point of his position, and Carey realised it. It was +more than probable that Lady Emberdale would take Coningsby's view of +the matter. If the man really attracted her it was almost a foregone +conclusion. He knew Gwen's mother well--her inconsequent whims, her +obstinacy. + +Yet, even in face of this check, he stood his ground. + +"I may find some means of proving what I have told you," he said, with +unswerving resolution. + +Coningsby drained his glass for the third time, and, with a menacing +sweep of the hand, seized his riding-whip. + +"I don't advise you to come here with your proofs," he snarled. "The +only proof I would look at is the woman herself. Now, sir, I have warned +you fairly. Are you going?" + +His attitude was openly threatening, but Carey's eyes were piercingly +upon him, and, in spite of himself, he paused. So for the passage of +seconds they stood; then slowly Carey turned away. + +"I am going," he said, "to find your wife." + +He did not glance again at the picture as he passed from the room. He +could not bring himself to meet the dark eyes that followed him. + + +V + +Yes; he would find her. But how? There was only one course open to him, +and he shrank from that with disgust unutterable. It was useless to +think of advertising. He was convinced that she would never answer an +advertisement. + +The only way to find her was to employ a detective to track her down. He +clenched his hands in impotent revolt. Not only had it been laid upon +him to betray her confidence, but he must follow this up by dragging her +from her hiding-place, and returning her to the bitter bondage from +which he had once helped her to escape. + +That she still lived he was inwardly convinced. He would have given all +he had to have known her dead. + +But, for that day, at least, there was no more to be done, and Gwen must +not have her birthday spoilt by the knowledge of his failure. He decided +to keep out of her way till the evening. + +When he entered the ball-room at the appointed time she pounced upon him +eagerly, but her young guests were nearly all assembled, and it was no +moment for private conversation. + +"Oh, Reggie! There you are! How dreadful you look in a mask! This is my +cousin, _mademoiselle_," turning to a lady in black who accompanied her. +"I've been wanting to introduce him to you. Don't forget that the masks +are not to come off till midnight. We're going to boom the big gong when +the clock strikes twelve." + +She flitted away in her shimmering fairy's dress, closely attended by +Charlie Rivers, to persuade his father to give her a dance. The room was +crowded with masked guests, Lady Emberdale, handsome and brilliant, and +Admiral Rivers, her bluff but faithful admirer, being the only +exceptions to the rule of the evening. + +Carey found himself standing apart with Gwen's particular _protegee_, +and he realised at once that he could expect no help from Charlie in +this quarter. For, though slim and graceful, _Mademoiselle_ Treves's +general appearance was undeniably sombre and elderly. The hair that she +wore coiled regally upon her head was silver-grey, and there was a +certain weariness about the mouth that, though it did not rob it of its +sweetness, deprived it of all suggestion of youth. + +"I don't know if I am justified in asking for a dance," Carey said. "My +own dancing days are over." + +She smiled at him, and instantly the weariness vanished. There was magic +in her smile. + +"I am no dancer either, except with the little ones. If you care to sit +out with me, I shall be very pleased." + +Her voice was low and musical. It caught his fancy so that he was aware +of a sudden curiosity to see the face that the black mask concealed. + +"Give me the twelve-o'clock dance," he said, "if you can spare it!" + +She consulted the programme that hung from her wrist. He bent over it as +she held it, and scrawled his initials against the dance in question. + +"Perhaps I shall not stay for that one," she said, with slight +hesitation. + +He glanced up at her. + +"I thought you were here for the night." + +She bent her head. + +"But I may slip away before twelve for all that." + +Carey smiled. + +"I don't think you will, not anyhow if I have a voice in the matter. I +am Gwen's lieutenant, you know, specially enrolled to prevent any +deserting. There is a heavy penalty for desertion." + +"What is it?" + +Carey bent again over the programme. + +"Deserters will be brought back ignominiously and made to dance with +everyone in the room in turn." + +He glanced up again at the sound of her low laugh. There was something +elusively suggestive about her personality. + +"May I have another?" he said. "I hope you don't mind holding the card +for me." + +"You have hurt your hand?" she asked. + +It was thrust away, as usual, in his pocket. + +"Some years ago," he told her. "I don't use it more than I can help." + +"How disagreeable for you!" she murmured. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"I am used to it. It is worse for others than it is for me. May I have +No. 9? It includes the supper interval. Thanks! And any more you can +spare. I'm only lounging about and seeing that the kids enjoy +themselves. I shall be delighted to sit out with you when you are tired +of dancing." + +"You are very kind," she said. + +He made her an abrupt bow. + +"Then I hope you won't snub my efforts by deserting?" + +She laughed again. + +"No, lieutenant, I will not desert. I am going to help you." + +She spoke with a winning and impulsive graciousness that stirred again +within him that curious sense of groping in the dark among objects +familiar but unrecognisable. Surely he had met this stranger somewhere +before--in a crowded thoroughfare, in a train, possibly in a theatre, or +even in a church! + +She looked at him questioningly as he lingered, and with another bow he +turned and left her. Doubtless, when he saw her face he would remember, +or realise that he had been mistaken. + + +VI + +Mademoiselle Treves kept her word, and wherever the fun was at its +height she was invariably the centre of it. The shy children crowded +about her. She seemed to possess a special charm for them. + +Gwen was delighted, and was obviously enjoying herself to the utmost. In +the absence of her _bete noire_ whom she had courageously omitted to +invite, she rejoiced to see that her mother was being unusually gracious +to her beloved Admiral, who was as merry as a schoolboy in consequence. + +She was shrewdly aware, however, that the welcome change was but +temporary. Incomprehensible though it was to Gwen, she knew that Major +Coningsby's power over her gay and frivolous young mother was absolute. +He ruled her with a rod of iron, and Lady Emberdale actually enjoyed his +tyranny. The rough court he paid her served to turn her head completely, +and she never attempted to resist his influence. + +It was all very distasteful to Gwen, who hated the man with the whole +force of her nature. She was thankful to feel that Carey was enlisted on +her side. She looked upon him as a tower of strength, and, forebodings +notwithstanding, she was able to throw herself heart and soul into the +evening's festivities, and to beam delightedly upon her cousin as she +walked behind him with Charlie to the supper room. + +Carey was escorting the French governess. He found a comfortable corner +for her in the thronged room at a table laid for two. + +"I am bearing in mind your promise to stand by till twelve o'clock," he +said. "It's the only thing that keeps me going, for I have a powerful +longing to remove my mask in defiance of orders. It feels like a porous +plaster. I shall only hold out till midnight with your gallant +assistance." + +He stooped with the words to pick up her fan which she had dropped. He +was obliged to use his left hand, and he knew that she gave a quick +start at sight of it. But she spoke instantly and he admired her ready +self-control. + +"It was rather a rash promise, I am afraid." + +Her voice sounded half shy and wholly sweet, and again he was caught by +that elusive quality about her that had puzzled him before. It was +stronger than ever, so strong that he felt for a moment on the verge of +discovery. But yet again it baffled him, making him all the more +determined to pursue it to its source. + +"You're not going to cry off?" he said, with a smile. + +He saw her flush behind her mask. + +"Only with your permission," she answered. + +He heard the note of pleading in her voice, but he would not notice it. + +"Oh, I can't let you off!" he said lightly. "Gwen would never forgive +me. Besides, I don't want to." + +She said no more, probably realising that he meant to have his way. They +talked upon indifferent topics in the midst of the general buzz of +merriment till, supper over, they separated. + +"I shall come for that midnight dance," were Carey's last words, as he +bowed and left her. + +And during the hour that intervened he kept a sharp eye upon her, lest +her evident reluctance to remain should prove too much for her +integrity. He was half amused at his own tenacity in the matter. Not for +years had a chance acquaintance so excited his curiosity. + +A few minutes before midnight he was standing before her. The last dance +of the evening had just begun. Gwen had decreed that everyone should +stop upon the stroke of twelve, while every mask was removed, after +which the dance was to be continued to the finish. + +"Shall we go upstairs?" suggested Carey. + +To his surprise he felt that the hand she laid upon his arm was +trembling. + +"By all means," she answered. "Let us get away from the crowd!" + +It was an unexpected request, but he showed no surprise. He piloted her +to a secluded spot in the upper regions, and they sat down on a lounge +at the end of a corridor. + +A queer sense of uneasiness had begun to oppress Carey, as strong as it +was inexplicable. He made a resolute effort to ignore it. The music +downstairs was sinking away. He took out his watch. + +"The dramatic moment approaches," he remarked, after a pause. "Are you +ready?" + +She did not speak. + +"I'll tell you why I want to see you unmask," he said, speaking very +quietly. "It is because there is something about you that reminds me of +someone I know, but the resemblance is so subtle that it has eluded me +all the evening." + +"You do not know me," she said. And he felt that she spoke with an +effort. + +"I am not so sure," he answered. "But in any case--" + +He paused. The music had ceased altogether, and an expectant silence +prevailed. He looked at her intently as he waited, till aware that she +shrank from his scrutiny. + +A long deep note boomed through the house, echoing weirdly through the +intense silence. Carey put up his hand without speaking, and stripped +off his mask. He crumpled it into a ball as the second note struck, and +looked at her. She had not moved. He waited silently. + +At the sixth note she made a sudden, almost passionate gesture and rose. +Carey remained motionless, watching her. Swiftly she turned, and began +to walk away from him. He leaned forward. His eyes were fixed upon her. + +Three more strokes! She stopped abruptly, turning back as if he had +spoken. Moving slowly, and still masked, she came back to him. He met +her under a lamp. His face was very pale, but his eyes were steady and +piercingly keen. He took her hand, bending over it till his lips touched +her glove. + +"I know you now," he said, his voice very low. + +Three more strokes, and silence. + +A ripple of laughter suddenly ran through the house, a gay voice called +for three cheers, and as though a spell had been lifted the merriment +burst out afresh in tune to the lilting dance-music. + +Carey straightened himself slowly, still holding the slender hand in +his. Her mask had gone at last, and he stood face to face with the woman +of his dream--the woman whose hard-won security he had only that morning +pledged himself to shatter. + + +VII + +"You know me," she said. + +"Yes; I know you. And I know your secret, too." + +The words sounded stern. He was putting strong restraint upon himself. + +She faced him without flinching, her look as steady as his own. And yet +again it was to Carey as though he stood in the presence of a queen. She +did not say a word. + +"Will you believe me," he said slowly, "when I tell you that I would +give all I have not to know it?" + +She raised her beautiful brows for a moment, but still she said nothing. + +He let her hand go. "I was on the point of searching to the world's end +for you," he said. "But since I have found you here of all places, I am +bound to take advantage of it. Forgive me, if you can!" + +He saw a gleam of apprehension in her eyes. + +"What is it you want to say to me?" she asked. + +He passed the question by. + +"You know me, I suppose?" + +She bent her head. + +"I fancied it was you from the first. When I saw your hand at supper, I +knew." + +"And you tried to avoid me?" + +"When you have something to conceal, it is wise to avoid anyone +connected with it." + +She answered him very quietly, but he knew instinctively that she was +fighting him with her whole strength. It was almost more than he could +bear. + +"Believe me," he said, "I am not a man to wantonly betray a woman's +secret. I have kept yours faithfully for years. But when within the last +few days I came to know who you were, and that your husband, Major +Coningsby, was contemplating making a second marriage, I was in honour +bound to speak." + +"You told him?" She raised her eyes for a single instant, and he read in +them a reproach unutterable. + +His heart smote him. What had she endured, this woman, before taking +that final step to cut herself off from the man whose name she had +borne? But he would not yield an inch. He was goaded by pitiless +necessity. + +"I told him," he answered. "But I had no means of proving what I said. +And he refused to believe me." + +"And now?" she almost whispered. + +He heard the note of tragedy in the words, and he braced himself to meet +her most desperate resistance. + +"Before I go further," he said, "let me tell you this! Slight though you +may consider our acquaintance to be, I have always felt--I have always +known--that you are a good woman." + +She made a quick gesture of protest. + +"Would a good woman have left the man who saved her life lying ill in a +strange land while she escaped with her miserable freedom?" + +He answered her without hesitation, as he had long ago answered himself. + +"No doubt the need was great." + +She turned away from him and sat down, bowing her head upon her hand. + +"It was," she said, her voice very low. "I was nearly mad with trouble. +You had pity then--without knowing. Have you--no pity--now?" + +The appeal went out into silence. Carey neither spoke nor moved. His +face was like a stone mask--the face of a strong man in torture. + +After a pause of seconds she spoke again, her face hidden from him. + +"The first Mrs. Coningsby is dead," she said. "Let it be so! Nothing +will ever bring her back. Geoffrey Coningsby is free to marry--whom he +will." + +The words were scarcely more than a whisper, but they reached and +pierced him to the heart. He drew a step nearer to her, and spoke with +sudden vehemence. + +"I would help you, Heaven knows, if I could! But you will see--you must +see presently--that I have no choice. There is only one thing to be +done, and it has fallen to me to see it through, though it would be +easier for me to die!" + +He broke off. There was strangled passion in his voice. Abruptly he +turned his back upon her, and began to pace up and down. Again there +fell a long pause. The music and the tramp of dancing feet below rose up +in his ears like a shout of mockery. He was fighting the hardest battle +of his life, fighting single-handed and grievously wounded for a victory +that would cripple him for the rest of his days. + +Suddenly he stood still and looked at her, though she had not moved, +unless her head with its silvery hair were bowed a little lower than +before. For a single instant he hesitated, then strode impulsively to +her, and knelt down by her side. + +"God help us both!" he said hoarsely. + +His hands were on her shoulders. He drew her to him, taking the bowed +head upon his breast. And so, silently, he held her. When she looked up +at last, he knew that the bitter triumph was his. Her face was deathly, +but her eyes were steadfast. She drew herself very gently out of his +hold. + +"I do not think," she said, "that there is anyone else in the world who +could have done for me what you have done tonight." She paused a moment +looking straight into his eyes, then laid her hands in his without a +quiver. "Years ago," she said, "you saved my life. Tonight--you have +saved something infinitely more precious than that. And I--I am +grateful to you. I will do--whatever you think right." + +It was a free surrender, but it wrung his heart to accept it. Even in +that moment of tragedy there was to him something of that sublime +courage with which she had faced the tumult of a stormy sea with him +five years before. And very poignantly it came home to him that he was +there to destroy and not to deliver. Like a wave of evil, it rushed upon +him, overwhelming him. + +He could not trust himself to speak. The wild words that ran in his +brain were such as he could not utter. And so he only bent his head once +more over the hands that lay so trustingly in his, and with great +reverence he kissed them. + + +VIII + +It was on a cold, dark evening two days later that Major Coningsby +returned from the first run of the year, and tramped, mud-splashed and +stiff from hard riding, into his gloomy house. A gust of rain blew +swirling after him, and he turned, swearing, and shut the great door +with a bang. It had not been a good day for sport. The ground had been +sodden, and the scent had washed away. He had followed the hounds for +miles to no purpose and had galloped home at last in sheer disgust. To +add to his grievances he had called upon Lady Emberdale on his way back, +and had not found her in. "Gone to tea with her precious Admiral, I +suppose!" he had growled, as he rode away, which, as it chanced, was the +case. The suspicion had not improved his mood, and he was very much out +of humour when he finally reached his own domain. Striding into the +library, he turned on the threshold to curse his servant for not having +lighted the lamp, and the man hastened forward nervously to repair the +omission. This accomplished, he as hastily retired, glancing furtively +over his shoulder as he made his escape. + +Coningsby tramped to the hearth, and stood there, beating his leg +irritably with his riding-whip. There was a heavy frown on his face. He +did not once raise his eyes to the picture above him. He was still +thinking of Lady Emberdale and the Admiral. Finally, with a sudden idea +of refreshing himself, he wheeled towards the table. The next instant, +he stood and stared as if transfixed. + +A woman dressed in black, and thickly veiled, was standing facing him +under the lamp. + +He gazed at her speechlessly for a second or two, then passed his hand +across his eyes. + +"Great heavens!" he said slowly, at last. + +She made a quick movement of the hands that was like a gesture of +shrinking. + +"You don't know me?" she asked, in a voice so low as to be barely +audible. + +For a moment there flashed into his face the curious, listening look +that is seen on the faces of the blind. Then violently he strode +forward. + +"I should know that voice in ten thousand!" he cried, his words sharp +and quivering. "Take off your veil, woman! Show me your face!" + +The hunger in his eyes was terrible to see. He looked like a dying man +reaching out impotent hands for some priceless elixir of life. + +"Your face!" he gasped again hoarsely, brokenly. "Show me your face!" + +Mutely she obeyed him, removed hat and veil with fingers that never +faltered, and turned her sad, calm face towards him. For seconds longer +he stared at her, stared devouringly, fiercely, with the eyes of a +madman. Then, suddenly, with a great cry, he stumbled forward, flinging +himself upon his knees at the table, with his face hidden on his arms. + +"Oh, I know you! I know you!" he sobbed. "You've tortured me like this +before. You've made me think I had only to open my arms to you, and I +should have you close against my heart. It's happened night after night, +night after night! Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!" + +His voice choked, and he became intensely still crouching there before +her in an anguish too great for words. + +For a long time she was motionless too, but at last, as he did not move, +she came a step toward him, pity and repugnance struggling visibly for +the mastery over her. Reluctantly she stooped and touched his shoulder. + +"Geoffrey!" she said, "it is I, myself, this time." + +He started at her touch but did not lift his head. + +She waited, and presently he began to recover himself. At last he +blundered heavily to his feet. + +"It's true, is it?" he said, peering at her uncertainly. "You're +here--in the flesh? You've been having just a ghastly sort of game with +me all these years, have you? Hang it, I didn't deserve quite that! And +so the little newspaper chap spoke the truth, after all." + +He paused; then suddenly flung out his arms to her as he stood. + +"Naomi!" he cried, "come to me, my girl! Don't be afraid. I swear I'll +be good to you, and I'm a man that keeps his oath! Come to me, I say!" + +But she held back from him, her face still white and calm. + +"No, Geoffrey," she said very firmly, "I haven't come back to you for +that. When I left you, I left you for good. And you know why. I never +meant to see your face again. You had made my life with you impossible. +I have only come to-day as--as a matter of principle, because I heard +you were going to marry again." + +The man's arms fell slowly. + +"You were always rather great on principle," he said, in an odd tone. + +He was not angry--that she saw. But the sudden dying away of the +eagerness on his face made him look old and different. This was not the +man whose hurricanes of violence had once overwhelmed her, whose +unrestrained passions had finally driven her from him to take refuge in +a lie. + +"I should not have come," she said, speaking with less assurance, "if it +had not been to prevent a wrong being done to another woman." + +His expression did not change. + +"I see," he said quietly. "Who sent you? Carey?" + +She flushed uncontrollably at the question, though there was no offence +in the tone in which it was uttered. + +"Yes," she answered, after a moment. + +Coningsby turned slowly and looked into the fire. + +"And how did he persuade you?" he asked. "Did he tell you I was going +blind?" + +"No!" There was apprehension as well as surprise in her voice; and he +jerked his head up as though listening to it. + +"Ah, well!" he said. "It doesn't much matter. There is a remedy for all +this world's evils. No doubt I shall take it sooner or later. So you're +going again are you? I'm not to touch you; not to kiss your hand? You +won't have me as husband, slave, or dog! Egad!" He laughed out harshly. +"I used not to be so humble. If you were queen, I was king, and I made +you know it. There! Go! You have done what you came to do, and more +also. Go quickly, before I see your face again! I'm only mortal still, +and there are some things that mortals can't endure--even strong +men--even giants. So--good-bye!" + +He stopped abruptly. He was gripping the high mantelpiece with both +hands. Every bone of them stood out distinctly, and the veins shone +purple in the lamplight. His head was bowed forward upon his chest. He +was fighting fiercely with that demon of unfettered violence to which he +had yielded such complete allegiance all his life. + +Minutes passed. He dared not turn his head to look but he knew that she +had not gone. He waited dumbly, still forcing back the evil impulse +that tore at his heart. But the tension became at last intolerable, and +slowly, still gripping himself with all his waning strength, he stood up +and turned. + +She was standing close to him. The repugnance had all gone out of her +face. It held only the tenderness of a great compassion. + +As he stared at her dumbfounded, she held out her hands to him. + +"Geoffrey," she said, "if you wish it, I will come back to you." + +He stared at her, still wide-eyed and mute, as though a spell were upon +him. + +"Won't you have me, Geoffrey?" she said, a faint quiver in her voice. + +He seized her hands then, seized them, and drew her to him, bowing his +head down upon her shoulder with a great sob. + +"Naomi, Naomi," he whispered huskily, "I will be good to you, my +darling--so help me, God!" + +Her own eyes were full of tears. She yielded herself to him without a +word. + + +IX + +"Can I come in a moment, Reggie?" + +Gwen's bright face peered round the door at him as he sat at the +writing-table in his room, with his head upon his hand. He looked up at +her. + +"Yes, come in, child! What is it?" + +She entered eagerly and went to him. + +"Are you busy, dear old boy? It is horrid that you should be going away +so soon. I only wanted just to tell you something that the dear old +Admiral has just told me." + +She sat down in her favourite position on the arm of his chair, her arm +about his neck. Her eyes were shining. Carey looked up at her. + +"Well?" he said. "Has he plucked up courage at last to ask for what he +wants?" + +"Yes; he actually has." There was a purr of content in Gwen's voice. +"And it's quite all right, Reggie. Mummy has said 'yes,' as I knew she +would, directly I told her about Major Coningsby finding his wife again. +All she said to that was: 'Dear me! How annoying for poor Major +Coningsby!' I thought it was horrid of her to say that, but I didn't say +so, for I wanted it all to come quite casually. And after that I wrote +to Charlie, and he told the Admiral. And he came straight over only +this morning and asked her. He's been telling me all about it, and he's +so awfully happy! He says he was a big fool not to ask her long ago in +the summer. For what do you think she said, Reggie, when he told her +that he'd been wanting to marry her for ever so long, but couldn't be +quite sure how she felt about it? Why, she said, with that funny little +laugh of hers--you know her way--'My dear Admiral, I was only waiting +to be asked.' The dear old man nearly cried when he told me. And I +kissed him. And he and Charlie are coming over to dine this evening. So +we can all be happy together." + +Gwen paused to breathe, and to give her cousin an ardent hug. + +"You've been a perfect dear about it," she ended with enthusiasm. "It +would never have happened but for you, and--and Mademoiselle Treves. Do +you think she hated going back to that man very badly?" + +"I think she did," said Carey. + +He was looking, not at Gwen, but straight at the window in front of him. +There were deep lines about his eyes, as if he had not slept of late. + +"But she needn't have stayed," urged Gwen. + +He did not answer. In his pocket there lay a slip of paper containing a +few brief lines in a woman's hand. + +"I have taken up my burden again, and, God helping me, I will carry it +now to the end. You know what it means to me, but I shall always thank +you in my heart, because in the hour of my utter weakness you were +strong.--NAOMI CONINGSBY." + +The splendid courage that underlay those few words had not hidden from +the man the cost of her sacrifice. She had gone voluntarily back into +the bondage that once had crushed her to the earth. And he--and he +only--knew what it meant to her. + +He was brought back to his surroundings by the pressure of Gwen's arm. +He turned and found her looking closely into his face. + +"Reggie," she said, with a touch of shyness, "are you--unhappy--about +something?" He did not answer her at once, and she slipped suddenly down +upon her knees by his side. "Forgive me, dear old boy! Do you know, I +couldn't help guessing a little? You're not vexed?" + +He laid a silencing hand upon her shoulder. + +"I don't mind your knowing, dear," he said gently. + +And he stooped, and kissed her forehead. She clung to him closely for a +second. When she rose, her eyes were wet. But, obedient to his unspoken +desire, she did not say another word. + +When she was gone Carey roused himself from his preoccupation, and +concentrated his thoughts upon his correspondence. He was leaving +England in two days, and travelling to the East on a solitary shooting +expedition. He did not review the prospect with much relish, but +inaction had become intolerable to him, and he had an intense longing +to get away. He had arranged to return to town that afternoon. + +It was towards luncheon-time that he left his room, and, descending, +came upon Lady Emberdale in the hall. She turned to meet him, a slight +flush upon her face. + +"No doubt Gwen has told you our piece of news?" she said. + +He held out his hand. + +"It is official, is it? I am very glad. I wish you joy with all my +heart." + +She accepted his congratulations with a gracious smile. + +"I think everyone is pleased, including those absurd children. By the +way, here is a note just come for you, brought by a groom from +Crooklands Manor. I was going to bring it up to you, as he is waiting +for an answer." + +He took it up and opened it hastily, with a murmured excuse. When he +looked up, Lady Emberdale saw at once that there was something wrong. +She began to question him, but he held the note out to her with a quick +gesture, and she took it from him. + + "My husband met with an accident while motoring this morning," + she read. "He has been brought home, terribly injured, and + keeps asking for you. Can you come? + + "N. CONINGSBY." + +Glancing up, she saw Carey, pale and stern, waiting to speak. + +"Send back word, 'Yes, at once,'" he said. "And perhaps you can spare me +the car?" + +He turned away without waiting for her reply, and went back to his room, +crushing the note unconsciously in his hand. + + +X + +"And the sea--gave up--the dead--that were in it." Haltingly the words +fell through the silence. There was a certain monotony about them, as if +they had been often repeated. The speaker turned his head from side to +side upon the pillow uneasily, as if conscious of restraint, then spoke +again in the tone of one newly awakened. "Why doesn't that fellow come?" +he demanded restlessly. "Did you tell him I couldn't wait?" + +"He is coming," a quiet voice answered at his side. "He will soon be +here." + +He moved his head again at the words, seeming to listen intently. + +"Ah, Naomi, my girl," he said, "you've turned up trumps at last. It +won't have been such a desperate sacrifice after all, eh, dear? It's +wonderful how things get squared. Is that the doctor there? I can't see +very well." + +The doctor bent over him. + +"Are you wanting anything?" + +"Nothing--nothing, except that fellow Carey. Why in thunder doesn't he +come? No; there's nothing you can do. I'm pegging out. My time is up. +You can't put back the clock. I wouldn't let you if you could--not as +things are. I have been a blackguard in my time, but I'll take my last +hedge straight. I'll die like a man." + +Again he turned his head, seeming to listen. + +"I thought I heard something. Did someone open the door? It's getting +very dark." + +Yes; the door had opened, but only the dying brain had caught the sound. +As Carey came noiselessly forward only the dying man greeted him. + +"Ah, here you are! Come quite close to me! I want to see you, if I can. +You're the little newspaper chap who saved my life at Magersfontein?" + +"Yes," Carey said. + +He sat down by Coningsby's side, facing the light. + +"I was told you wanted me," he said. + +"Yes; I want you to give me a promise." Coningsby spoke rapidly, with +brows drawn together. "I suppose you know I'm a dead man?" + +"I don't believe in death," Carey answered very quietly. + +Coningsby's eyes burned with a strange light. + +"Nor I," he said. "Nor I. I've been too near it before now to be afraid. +Also, I've lived too long and too hard to care overmuch for what is +left. But there's one thing I mean to do before I go. And you'll give me +your promise to see it through?" + +He paused, breathing quick and short; then went on hurriedly, as a man +whose time is limited. + +"You'll stick to it, I know, for you're a fellow that speaks the truth. +I nearly thrashed you for it, once. Remember? You said I wasn't fit for +the society of any good woman. And you were right--quite right. I never +have been. Yet you ended by sending me the best woman in the world. What +made you do that, I wonder?" + +Carey did not answer. His face was sternly composed. He had not once +glanced at the woman who sat on the other side of Coningsby's bed. + +Coningsby went on unheeding. + +"I drove her away from me, and you--you sent her back. I don't think I +could have done that for the woman I loved. For you do love her, eh, +Carey? I remember seeing it in your face that first night I brought you +here. It comes back to me. You were standing before her portrait in the +library. You didn't know I saw you. I was drunk at the time. But I've +remembered it since." + +Again he paused. His breath was slowing down. It came spasmodically, +with long silences between. + +Carey had listened with his eyes fixed and hard, staring straight before +him, but now slowly at length he turned his head, and looked down at the +man who was dying. + +"Hadn't you better tell me what it is you want me to do?" he said. + +"Ah!" Coningsby seemed to rouse himself. "It isn't much, after all," he +said. "I made my will only this morning. It was on my way back that I +had the smash. I was quite sober, only I couldn't see very well, and I +lost control. All my property goes to my wife. That's all settled. But +there's one thing left--one thing left--which I am going to leave you. +It's the only thing I value, but there's no nobility about it, for I +can't take it with me where I'm going. I want you, Carey--when I'm +dead--to marry the woman you love, and give her happiness. Don't wait +for the sake of decency! That consideration never appealed to me. I say +it in her presence, that she may know it is my wish. Marry her, man--you +love each other--did you think I didn't know? And take her away to some +Utopia of your own, and--and--teach her--to forget me." + +His voice shook and ceased. His wife had slipped to her knees by the +bed, hiding her face. Carey sat mute and motionless, but the grim look +had passed from his face. It was almost tender. + +Gaspingly at length Coningsby spoke again: "Are you going to do it, +Carey? Are you going to give me your promise? I shall sleep the easier +for it." + +Carey turned to him and gripped one of the man's powerless hands in his +own. For a moment he did not speak--it almost seemed he could not. Then +at last, very low, but resolute his answer came: + +"I promise to do my part," he said. + +In the silence that followed he rose noiselessly and moved away. + +He left Naomi still kneeling beside the bed, and as he passed out he +heard the dying man speak her name. But what passed between them he +never knew. + +When he saw her again, nearly an hour later, Geoffrey Coningsby was +dead. + + +XI + +It was on a day of frosty sunshine, nearly a fortnight later, that Carey +dismounted before the door of Crooklands Manor, and asked for its +mistress. + +He was shown at once into the library, where he found her seated before +a great oak bureau with a litter of papers all around her. + +She flushed deeply as she rose to greet him. They had not met since the +day of her husband's funeral. + +"I see you're busy," he said, as he came forward. + +"Yes," she assented. "Such stacks of papers that must be examined before +they can be destroyed. It's dreary work, and I have been very thankful +to have Gwen with me. She has just gone out riding." + +"I met her," Carey said. "She was with young Rivers." + +"It is a farewell ride," Naomi told him. "She goes back to school +to-morrow. Dear child! I shall miss her. Please sit down!" + +The colour had ebbed from her face, leaving it very pale. She did not +look at Carey, but began slowly to sort afresh a pile of +correspondence. + +He ignored her request, and stood watching her till at last she laid the +packet down. + +Then somewhat abruptly he spoke: "I've just come in to tell you my +plans." + +"Yes?" She took up an old cheque-book, as if she could not bear to be +idle, and began to look through it, seeming to search for something. + +Again he fell silent, watching her. + +"Yes?" she repeated after a moment, bending a little over the book she +held. + +"They are very simple," he said quietly. "I'm going to a place I know of +in the Himalayas where there is a wonderful river that one can punt +along all day and all night, and never come to an end." + +Again he paused. The fingers that held the memorandum were not quite +steady. + +"And you have come to say good-bye?" she suggested in her deep, sad +voice. + +His eyes were turned gravely upon her, but there was a faint smile at +the corners of his mouth. + +"No," he said in his abrupt fashion. "That isn't in the plan. Good-bye +to the rest of the world if you will, but never again to you!" + +He drew close to her and gently took the cheque-book out of her grasp. + +"I want you to come with me, Naomi," he said very tenderly. "My darling, +will you come? I have wanted you--for years." + +A great quiver went through her, as though every pulse leapt to the +words he uttered. For a second she stood quite still, with her face +lifted to the sunlight. Then she turned, without question or words of +any sort, as she had turned long ago--yet with a difference--and laid +her hand with perfect confidence in his. + + + + + * * * * * + + +THE RETURN GAME + + +I + +"Well played, Hone! Oh, well played indeed!" + +A great roar of applause went up from the polo-ground like the surge and +wash of an Atlantic roller. The regimental hero was distinguishing +himself--a state of affairs by no means unusual, for success always +followed Hone. His luck was proverbial in the regiment, as sure and as +deeply-rooted as his popularity. + +"It's the devil's own concoction," declared Teddy Duncombe, Major Hone's +warmest friend and admirer, who was watching from the great stand near +the refreshment-tent. "It never fails. We call him Achilles because he +always carries all before him." + +"Even Achilles had his vulnerable point," remarked Mrs. Perceval, to +whom the words were addressed. + +She spoke with her dark eyes fixed upon the distant figure. Seen from a +distance, he seemed to be indeed invincible--a magnificent horseman who +rode like a fury, yet checked and wheeled his pony with the skill of a +circus rider. But there was no admiration in Mrs. Perceval's intent +gaze. She looked merely critical. + +"Pat hasn't," replied Duncombe, whose love for Hone was no mean thing, +and who gloried in his Irish major's greatness. "He's a man in ten +thousand--the finest specimen of an imperfect article ever produced." + +His enthusiasm fell on barren ground. Mrs. Perceval was not apparently +bestowing much attention upon him. She was watching the play with brows +slightly drawn. + +Duncombe looked at her with faint surprise. She was not often +unappreciative, and he could not imagine any woman failing to admire +Hone. Besides, Mrs. Perceval and Hone were old friends, as everyone +knew. Was it not Hone who had escorted her to the East seven years ago +when she had left Home to join her elderly husband? By Jove, was it +really seven years since Perceval's beautiful young wife had taken them +all by storm? She looked a mere girl yet, though she had been three +years a widow. Small and dark and very regal was Nina Perceval, with the +hands and feet of a fairy and the carriage of a princess. He had seen +nothing of her during those last three years. She had been living a life +of retirement in the hills. But now she was going back to England and +was visiting her old haunts to bid her friends farewell. And Teddy +Duncombe found her as captivating as ever. She was more than beautiful. +She was positively dazzling. + +What a splendid pair she and Pat would make, Duncombe thought to himself +as he watched her. A man like Major Hone, V.C., ought to find a mate. +Every king should have a queen. + +The thought was still in his mind, possibly in his eyes also, when +abruptly Mrs. Perceval turned her head and caught him. + +"Taking notes, Captain Duncombe?" she asked, with a smile too careless +to be malicious. + +"Playing providence, Mrs. Perceval," he answered without embarrassment. + +He had never been embarrassed in her presence yet. She had a happy knack +of setting her friends at ease. + +"I hope you are preparing a kind fate for me," she said. + +He laughed a little. "What would you call a kind fate?" + +Her dark eyes flashed. She looked for a moment scornful. "Not the usual +woman's Utopia," she said. "I have been through that and come out on the +other side." + +"I can hardly believe it," protested Teddy. + +"Don't you know I am a cynic?" she said, with a little reckless laugh. + +A second wild shout from the spectators on all sides of them swept their +conversation away. On the further side of the ground Hone, with steady +wrist and faultless aim, had just sent the ball whizzing between the +posts. + +It was the end of the match, and Hone was once more the hero of the +hour. + +"Really, I sometimes think the gods are too kind to Major Hone," smiled +Mrs. Chester, the colonel's wife, and Mrs. Perceval's hostess. "It can't +be good for him to be always on the winning side." + +Hone was trotting quietly down the field, laughing all over his +handsome, sunburnt face at the cheers that greeted him. He dismounted +close to Mrs. Perceval, and was instantly seized by Duncombe and thumped +upon the back with all the force of his friend's goodwill. + +"Pat, old fellow, you're the finest sportsman in the Indian Empire. +Those chaps haven't been beaten for years." + +Hone laughed easily and swung himself free. "They've got some knowing +little brutes of ponies, by the powers," he said. "They slip about like +minnows. The Ace of Trumps was furious. Did you hear him squeal?" + +He turned with the words to his own pony and kissed the velvet nose that +was rubbing against his arm. + +"And a shame it is to make him carry a lively five tons," he murmured in +his caressing Irish brogue. + +For Hone was a giant as well as a hero and he carried his inches, as he +bore his honours, like a man. + +Raising his head, he encountered Mrs. Perceval's direct look. She bowed +to him with that regal air of hers that for all its graciousness yet +managed to impart a sense of remoteness to the man she thus honoured. + +"I have been admiring your luck, Major Hone," she said. "I am told you +are always lucky." + +He smiled courteously. + +"Sure, Mrs. Perceval, you can hardly expect me to plead guilty to that." + +"Anyway, you deserved your luck, Pat," declared Duncombe. "You played +superbly." + +"Major Hone excels in all games, I believe," said Mrs. Perceval. "He +seems to possess the secret of success." + +She spoke with obvious indifference; yet an odd look flashed across +Hone's brown face at the words. He almost winced. + +But he was quick to reply. "The secret of success," he said, "is to know +how to make the best of a beating." + +He was still smiling as he spoke. He met Mrs. Perceval's eyes with +baffling good-humour. + +"You speak from experience, of course?" she said. "You have proved it?" + +"Faith, that is another story," laughed Hone, hitching his pony's bridle +on his arm. "We live and learn, Mrs. Perceval. I have learnt it." + +And with that he bowed and passed on, every inch a soldier and to his +finger-tips a gentleman. + + +II + +"Hullo, Pat!" + +Teddy Duncombe, airily clad in pyjamas, stood a moment on the verandah +to peer in upon his major, then stepped into the room with the assurance +of one who had never yet found himself unwelcome. + +"Hullo, my son!" responded Hone, who, clad still more airily, was +exercising his great muscles with dumb-bells before plunging into his +morning tub. + +Duncombe seated himself to watch the operations with eyes of keen +appreciation. + +"By Jove," he said admiringly at length, "you are a mighty specimen! I +believe you'll live for ever." + +"Not on this plaguey little planet, let us trust!" said Hone, speaking +through his teeth by reason of his exertions. + +"You ought to marry," said Duncombe, still intently observant. "Giants +like you have no right to remain single in these degenerate days." + +"Faith!" scoffed Hone. "It's an age of feather-weights, and I'm out of +date entirely." + +He thumped down his dumb-bells, and stood up with arms outstretched. He +saw the open admiration in his friend's eyes, and laughed at it. + +But Duncombe remained serious. + +"Why don't you get married, Pat?" he said. + +Hone's arms slowly dropped. His brown face sobered. But the next instant +he smiled again. + +"Find the woman, Teddy!" he said lightly. + +"I've found her," said Teddy unexpectedly. + +"The deuce you have!" said Hone. "Sure, and it's truly grateful I am! Is +she young, my son, and lovely?" + +"She is the loveliest woman I know," said Teddy Duncombe, with all +sincerity. + +"Faith!" laughed the Irishman. "But that's heartfelt! Why don't you +enter for the prize yourself?" + +"I'm going to marry little Lucy Fabian as soon as she will have me," +explained Duncombe. "We settled that ages ago, almost as soon as she +came out. It's not a formal engagement even yet, but she has promised to +bear it in mind. We had a talk last night, and--I believe I haven't much +longer to wait." + +"Good luck to you, dear fellow!" said Hone. "You deserve the best." He +laid his hand for a moment on Duncombe's shoulder. "It's been a good +partnership, Teddy boy," he said. "I shall miss you." + +Teddy gripped the hand hard. + +"You'll have to get married yourself, Pat," he declared urgently. "It +isn't good for man to live alone." + +"And so you are going to provide for my future also," laughed Hone. +"And the lady's name?" + +"Oh, she's an old friend!" said Duncombe. "Can't you guess?" + +Hone shook his head. + +"I can't imagine any old friend taking pity on me. Have you sounded her +feelings on the subject? Or perhaps she hasn't got any where I am +concerned." + +"Oh, yes, she has her feelings about you!" said Duncombe, with +confidence. "But I don't know what they are. She wasn't particularly +communicative on that point." + +"Or you, my son, were not particularly penetrating," suggested Hone. + +"I certainly didn't penetrate far," Duncombe confessed. "It was a case +of 'No admission to outsiders.' Still, I kept my eyes open on your +behalf; and the conclusion I arrived at was that, though reticent where +you were concerned, she was by no means indifferent." + +Hone stooped and picked up his dumb-bells once more. + +"Your conclusions are not always very convincing, Teddy," he remarked. + +Duncombe got to his feet in leisurely preparation for departure. + +"There was no mistake as to her reticence anyhow," he observed. "It was +the more conspicuous, as all the rest of us were yelling ourselves +hoarse in your honour. I was watching her, and she never moved her +lips, never even smiled. But her eyes saw no one else but you." + +Hone grunted a little. He was poising the dumb-bells at the full stretch +of his arms. + +Duncombe still loitered at the open window. + +"And her name is Nina Perceval," he said abruptly, shooting out the +words as though not quite certain of their reception. + +The dumb-bells crashed to the ground. Hone wheeled round. For a single +instant the Irish eyes flamed fiercely; but the next he had himself in +hand. + +"A pretty little plan, by the powers!" he said, forcing himself to speak +lightly. "But it won't work, my lad. I'm deeply grateful all the same." + +"Rats, man! She is sure to marry again." Duncombe spoke with deliberate +carelessness. He would not seem to be aware of that which his friend had +suppressed. + +"That may be," Hone said very quietly. "But she will never marry me. +And--faith, I'll be honest with you, Teddy, for the whole truth told is +better than a half-truth guessed--for her sake I shall never marry +another woman." + +He spoke with absolute steadiness, and he looked Duncombe full in the +eyes as he said it. + +A brief silence followed his statement; then impulsively Duncombe thrust +out his hand. + +"Hone, old chap, forgive me! I'm a headlong, blundering jackass!" + +"And the best friend a man ever had," said Hone gently. "It's an old +story, and I can't tell you all. It was just a game, you know; it began +in jest, but it ended in grim earnest, as some games do. It happened +that time we travelled out together, eight years ago. I was supposed to +be looking after her; but, faith, the monkey tricked me! I was a fool, +you see, Teddy." A faint smile crossed his face. "And she gave me an +elderly spinster to dance attendance upon while she amused herself. She +was only a child in those days. She couldn't have been twenty. I used to +call her the Princess, and I was St. Patrick to her. But the mischief +was that I thought her free, and--I made love to her." He paused a +moment. "Perhaps it's hardly fair to tell you this. But you're in love +yourself; you'll understand." + +"I understand," Duncombe said. + +"And she was such an innocent," Hone went on softly. "Faith, what an +innocent she was! Till one day she saw what had happened to me, and it +nearly broke her heart. For she hadn't meant any harm, bless her. It was +all a game with her, and she thought I was playing, too, till--till she +saw otherwise. Well, it all came to an end at last, and to save her from +grieving I pretended that I had known all along. I pretended that I had +trifled with her from start to finish. She didn't believe me at first, +but I made her--Heaven pity me!--I made her. And then she swore that she +would never forgive me. And she never has." + +Hone turned quietly away, and put the dumb-bells into a corner. Duncombe +remained motionless, watching him. + +"But she will, old chap," he said at last. "She will. Women do, you +know--when they understand." + +"Yes, I know," said Hone. "But she never can understand. I tricked her +too thoroughly for that." He faced round again, his grey eyes level and +very steady. + +"It's just my fate, Teddy," he said; "and I've got to put up with it. +However it may appear, the gods are not all-bountiful where I am +concerned. I may win everything in the world I turn my hand to, but I +have lost for ever the only thing I really want!" + + +III + +It was two days later that Mrs. Chester decided to give what she termed +a farewell _fete_ to all Nina Perceval's old friends. Nina had always +been a great favourite with her, and she was determined that the +function should be worthy of the occasion. + +To ensure success, she summoned Hone to her assistance. Hone always +assisted everybody, and it was well known that he invariably succeeded +in that to which he set his hand. And Hone, with native ingenuity, at +once suggested a water expedition by moonlight as far as the ruined +Hindu temple on the edge of the jungle that came down to the river at +that point. There was a spice of adventure about this that at once +caught Mrs. Chester's fancy. It was the very thing, she declared; a +water-picnic was so delightfully informal. They would cut for partners, +and row up the river in couples. + +To Nina Perceval the plan seemed slightly childish, but she veiled her +feelings from her friend as she veiled them from all the world; for very +soon it would be all over, sunk away in that grey, grey past into which +she would never look again. She even joined in conference with Mrs. +Chester and Hone over the details of the expedition, and if now and +then the Irishman's eyes rested upon her as though they read that which +she would fain have hidden, she never suffered herself to be +disconcerted thereby. + +When the party assembled on the eventful evening to settle the question +of partners, Hone was, as usual, in the forefront. The lots were drawn +under his management, not by his own choice, but because Mrs. Chester +insisted upon it. He presided over two packs of cards that had been +reduced to the number of guests. The men drew from one pack, the women +from the other; and thus everyone in the room was bound at length to +pair. + +Hone would have foregone this part of the entertainment, but the +colonel's wife was firm. + +"People never know how to arrange themselves," she declared. "And I +decline any responsibility of that sort. The Fates shall decide for us. +It will be infinitely more satisfactory in the end." + +And Hone could only bow to her ruling. + +Nina Perceval was the first to draw. Her card was the ace of hearts. She +slung it round her neck in accordance with Mrs. Chester's decree, and +sat down to await her destiny. + +It was some time in coming. One after another drew and paired in the +midst of much chaff and merriment; but she sat solitary in her corner +watching the pile of cards diminish while she remained unclaimed. + +"Most unusual!" declared Mrs. Chester. "Whom can the Fates be reserving +for you, I wonder?" + +Nina had no answer to make. She sat with her dark eyes fixed upon the +few cards that were left in front of Hone, not uttering a single word. +He sat motionless, too, Teddy Duncombe, who had paired with his hostess, +standing by his side. He was not looking in her direction, but by some +mysterious means she knew that his attention was focussed upon herself. +She was convinced in her secret soul that, though he hid his anxiety, he +was closely watching every card in the hope that he might ultimately +pair with her. + +The last man drew and found his partner. One card only was left in front +of Hone. He laid his hand upon it, paused for an instant, then turned it +up. The ace of hearts! + +She felt herself stiffen involuntarily, and something within her began +to pound and race like the hoofs of a galloping horse. A brief agitation +was hers, which she almost instantly subdued, but which left her +strangely cold. + +Hone had risen from the table. He came quietly to her side. There was no +visible elation about him. His grey eyes were essentially honest, but +they were deliberately emotionless at that moment. + +In the hubbub of voices all about them he bent and spoke. + +"It may not be the fate you would have chosen; but since submit we +must, shall we not make the best of it?" + +She met his look with the aloofness of utter disdain. + +"Your strategy was somewhat too apparent to be ascribed to Fate," she +said. "I cannot imagine why you took the trouble." + +A dark flush mounted under Hone's tan. He straightened himself abruptly, +and she was conscious of a moment's sharp misgiving that was strangely +akin to fear. Then, as he spoke no word, she rose and stood beside him, +erect and regal. + +"I submit," she said quietly; "not because I must, but because I do not +consider it worth while to do otherwise. The matter is too unimportant +for discussion." + +Hone made no rejoinder. He was staring straight before him, stern-eyed +and still. + +But a few moments later, he gravely proffered his arm, and in the midst +of a general move they went out together into the moonlit splendour of +the Indian night. + + +IV + +Slowly the boats slipped through the shallows by the bank. + +Hone sat facing his companion in unbroken silence while he rowed +steadily up the stream. But there was no longer anger in his steady +eyes. The habit of kindness, which was the growth of a lifetime, had +reasserted itself. He had not been created to fulfil a harsh destiny. +The chivalry at his heart condemned sternness towards a woman. + +And Nina Perceval sat in the stern with the moonlight shining in her +eyes and the darkness of a great bitterness in her soul, and waited. +Despite her proud bearing she would have given much to have looked into +his heart at that moment. Notwithstanding all her scorn of him very deep +down in her innermost being she was afraid. + +For this was the man who long ago, when she was scarcely more than a +child, had blinded her, baffled her, beaten her. He had won her trust, +and had used it contemptibly for his own despicable ends. He had turned +an innocent game into tragedy, and had gone his way, leaving her life +bruised and marred and bitter before it had ripened to maturity. He had +put out the sunshine for ever, and now he expected to be forgiven. + +But she would never forgive him. He had wounded her too cruelly, too +wantonly, for forgiveness. He had laid her pride too low. For even yet, +in all her furious hatred of him, she knew herself bound by a chain that +no effort of hers might break. Even yet she thrilled to the sound of +that soft, Irish voice, and was keenly, painfully aware of him when he +drew near. + +He did not know it, so she told herself over and over again. No one +knew, or ever would know. That advantage, at least, was hers, and she +would carry it to her grave. But yet she longed passionately, +vindictively, to punish him for the ruin he had wrought, to humble +him--this faultless knight, this regimental hero, at whose shrine +everybody worshipped--as he had once dared to humble her; to make him +care, if it were ever so little--only to make him care--and then to +trample him ruthlessly underfoot, as he had trampled her. + +She began to wonder how long he meant to maintain that uncompromising +silence. From across the water came the gay voices of their +fellow-guests, but no other boat was very near them. His face was in the +shadow, and she had no clue to his mood. + +For a while longer she endured his silence. Then at length she spoke: + +"Major Hone!" + +He started slightly, as one coming out of deep thought. + +"Why don't you make conversation?" she asked, with a little cynical +twist of the lips. "I thought you had a reputation for being +entertaining." + +"Will it entertain you if I ask for an apology?" said Hone. + +"An apology!" She repeated the words sharply, and then softly laughed. +"Yes, it will, very much." + +"And yet you owe me one," said Hone. + +"I fear I do not always pay my debts," she answered. "But you will find +it difficult to convince me on this occasion that the debt exists." + +"Faith, I shall not try!" he returned, with a doggedness that met and +overrode her scorn. "The game isn't worth the candle. I know you will +think ill of me in either case." + +"Why, Major Hone?" + +He met her eyes in the moonlight, and she felt as if by sheer force he +held them. + +"Because," he said slowly, "I have made it impossible for you to do +otherwise." + +"Surely that is no one's fault but your own?" she said. + +"I blame no one else," said Hone. + +And with that he bent again to his work as though he had been betrayed +into plainer speaking than he deemed advisable, and became silent again. + +Nina Perceval trailed her hand in the water and watched the ripples. +Those few words of his had influenced her strangely. She had almost for +the moment forgotten her enmity. But it returned upon her in the +silence. She began to remember those bitter years that stretched behind +her, the blind regrets with which he had filled her life--this man who +had tricked her, lied to her--ay, and almost broken her heart in those +far-off days of her girlhood, before she had learned to be cynical. + +"And even if I did believe you," she said, "what difference would it +make?" + +Hone was silent for a moment. Then--"Just all the difference in the +world," he said, his voice very low. + +"You value my good opinion so highly?" she laughed. "And yet you will +make no effort to secure it?" + +He turned his eyes upon her again. + +"I would move heaven and earth to win it," he said, and she knew by his +tone that he was putting strong restraint upon himself, "if there were +the smallest chance of my ever doing so. But I know my limitations; I +know it's all no good. Once a blackguard, always a blackguard, eh, Mrs. +Perceval? And I'd be a special sort of fool if I tried to persuade you +otherwise." + +But still she only laughed, in spite of the agitation but half-subdued +in his voice. + +"I would offer to steer," she remarked irrelevantly, "only I don't feel +equal to the responsibility. And since you always get there sooner or +later, my help would be superfluous." + +"You share the popular belief about my luck?" asked Hone. + +"To be sure," she answered gaily. "Even you could scarcely manage to +find fault with it." + +He drew a deep breath. "Not with you in the boat," he said. + +She withdrew her hand from the water, and flicked it in his face. + +"Hadn't you better slow down? You are getting overheated. I feel as if I +were sitting in front of a huge furnace." + +"And you object to it?" said Hone. + +"Of course I do. It's unseasonable. You Irish are so tropical." + +"It's only by contrast," urged Hone. "You will get acclimatised in +time." + +She raised her head with a dainty gesture. + +"You take a good deal for granted, Major Hone." + +"Faith, I know it!" he answered. "It's yourself that has turned my +head." + +Her laugh held more than a hint of scorn. + +"How amusing," she commented, "for both of us!" + +"Does it amuse you?" said Hone. + +The question did not call for a reply, and she made none. Only once more +she gathered up some water out of the magic moonlit ripples, and tossed +it in his face. + + +V + +They reached their destination far ahead of any of the others. A thick +belt of jungle stretched down to the river where they landed, enveloping +both banks a little higher up the stream. + +"What an awesome place!" remarked Mrs. Perceval, as she stepped ashore. +"I hope the rest will arrive soon, or I shall develop an attack of +nerves." + +"You've got me to take care of you," suggested Hone. + +She uttered her soft, little laugh. + +"Faith, Major Hone, and I'm not at all sure that it isn't yourself I +want to run away from!" + +Hone was securing the boat, and made no immediate response. But as he +straightened himself, he laughed also. + +"Am I so formidable, then?" + +She flashed a swift glance at him. + +"I haven't quite decided." + +"You have known me long enough," he protested. + +She shrugged her shoulders lightly. + +"Have I ever met you before to-night? I have no recollection of it." + +And mutely, with that chivalry which was to him the very air he +breathed, Hone bowed to her ruling. She would have no reference to the +past. It was to be a closed book to them both. So be it, then! For this +night, at least, she would have her way. + +He stepped forward in silence into the chequered shadow of the trees +that surrounded the ruin, and she walked lightly by his side with that +dainty, regal carriage of hers that made him yet in his secret heart +call her his princess. + +The place was very dark and eerie. The shrill cries of flying-foxes, +disturbed by their appearance, came through the magic silence. But no +living thing was to be seen, no other sound to be heard. + +"I'm frightened," said Nina suddenly. "Shall we stop?" + +"Hold my hand!" said Hone. + +"I'm not joking," she protested, with a shudder. + +"Nor am I," he said gently. + +She looked up at him sharply, as though she did not quite believe him, +and then unexpectedly and impulsively she laid her hand in his. + +His fingers closed upon it with a friendly, reassuring pressure, and she +never knew how the man's heart leapt and the blood turned to liquid fire +in his veins at her touch. + +She gave a shaky little laugh as though ashamed of her weakness. "We are +coming to an open space," she said. "We shall see the satyrs dancing +directly." + +"Faith, if we do, we'll join them," declared Hone cheerily. + +"They would never admit us," she answered. "They hate mortals. Can't you +feel them glaring at us from every tree? Why, I can breathe hostility in +the very air." + +She missed her footing as she spoke, and stumbled with a sharp cry. Hone +held her up with that steady strength of his that was ever equal to +emergencies, but to his surprise she sprang forward, pulling him with +her, almost before she had fully recovered her balance. + +"Oh, come, quick, quick!" she gasped. "I trod on something--something +that moved!" + +He went with her, for she would not be denied, and in a few seconds they +emerged into a narrow clearing in the jungle in which stood the ruin of +a small domed temple. + +Nina Perceval was shaking all over in a positive frenzy of fear, and +clinging fast to Hone's arm. + +"What was it?" he asked her, trying gently to disengage himself. "Was it +a snake that scared you?" + +She shuddered violently. "Yes, it must have been. A cobra, I should +think. Oh, what are you going to do?" + +"It's all right," Hone said soothingly. "You stay here a minute! I've +got some matches. I'll just go back a few yards and investigate." + +But at that she cried out so sharply that he thought for a moment that +something had hurt her. But the next instant he understood, and again +his heart leapt and strained within him like a chained thing. + +"No, Pat! No, no, no! You shall do no such thing!" Incoherently the +words rushed out, and with them the old familiar name, uttered all +unawares. "Do you think I'd let you go? Why, the place may be thronged +with snakes. And you--you have nothing to defend yourself with. How can +you dream of such a thing?" + +He heard her out with absolute patience. His face betrayed no sign of +the tumult within. It remained perfectly courteous and calm. Yet when he +spoke he, too, it seemed, had gone back to the old intimate days that +lay so far behind them. + +"Yes, but, Princess," he said, "what about our pals? If there is any +real danger we can't let them come stumbling into it. We'll have to warn +them." + +She was still clinging to his arm, and her hands tightened. For an +instant she seemed about to renew her wild protest, but something--was +it the expression in the man's steady eyes?--checked her. + +She stood a moment silent. Then, "You're quite right, Pat," she said, +her voice very low. "We'll go straight back to the boat and stop them." + +Her hands relaxed and fell from his arm, but Hone stood hesitating. + +"You'll let me go first?" he said. "You stay here in the open! I'll come +back for you." + +But at that her new-found docility at once evaporated. "I won't!" she +declared vehemently. "I won't! Don't be so ridiculous! Of course I am +coming with you. Do you suppose I would let you go alone?" + +"Why not?" said Hone. + +He remembered later that she passed the question by. "We are wasting +time," she said, "Let us go!" + +And so together they went back into the danger that lurked in the +darkness. + + +VI + +They went side by side, for she would not let him take the lead. Her +hand was in his, and he knew by its convulsive pressure something of the +sheer panic that possessed her. And he marvelled at the power that +nerved her, though he held his peace. + +They entered the dense shadow of the strip of jungle that separated them +from the stream, and very soon he paused to strike a match. She stood +very close to him. He was aware that she was trembling in every limb. + +He peered about him, but could see very little beyond the fact that the +path ahead of them lay clear. On both sides of this the undergrowth +baffled all scrutiny. He seemed to hear a small mysterious rustling +sound, but his most minute attention failed to locate it. The match +burned down to his fingers, and he tossed it away. + +"There's nothing between us and the water," he said cheerily. "We'll +make a dash for it." + +"Stay!" she whispered, under her breath. "I heard something!" + +"It's only a bit of a breeze overhead," said Hone. "We won't stop to +listen anyway." + +He caught her hand in his once more, grasping it firmly, and they moved +forward again. They could see the moonlight glimmering on the water +ahead, and in another yard or two the low-growing bush to which Hone had +moored the boat became visible. + +In that instant, with a jerk of terror, Nina stopped short. "Pat! What +is that?" + +Hone stood still. "There! Don't be scared!" he said soothingly. "What +would it be at all? There's nothing but shadow." + +"But there is!" she gasped. "There is! There! On the bank above the +boat! What is it, Pat? What is it?" + +Hone's eyes followed her quivering finger, discerning what appeared to +be a blot of shadow close to the bush above the water. + +"Sure, it's only shadow--" he began. + +But she broke in feverishly. "It's not, Pat! It's not! There's nothing +to cast it. It's in the full moonlight." + +"You stay here!" said Hone. "I'll go and have a look." + +"I won't!" she rejoined in a fierce whisper, holding him fast. "You--you +shan't go a step nearer. We must get away somehow--somehow!" with a +hunted glance around. "Not through the undergrowth, that's certain. +We--we shall have to go back." + +Hone was still staring at the motionless blot in the moonlight. He +resisted her frantic efforts to drag him away. + +"I must go and see," he said at last. "I'm sure there's nothing to alarm +us. We can't run away from shadows, Princess. We should never hold up +our heads again." + +"Oh, Pat, you fool!" she exclaimed, almost beside herself. "I tell you +that is no shadow! It's a snake! Do you hear? It's a huge python! And it +was a snake I trod on just now. And they are everywhere--everywhere! The +whole place is rustling with them. They are closing in on us. I can hear +them! I can feel them! I can smell them! Pat, what shall we do? Quick, +quick! Think of something! See now! It's moving--uncoiling! Look, look! +Did you ever see anything so horrible? Pat!" + +Her voice ended in a breathless shriek. She suddenly collapsed against +him, her face hidden on his breast. And Hone, stooping impulsively, +caught her up in his arms. + +"We'll get out of it somehow," he said. "Never fear!" + +But even his eyes had widened with a certain horror, for the blot in the +moonlight was beyond question moving, elongating, quivering, subtly +changing under his gaze. + +He held his companion pressed tightly to his heart. She made no further +attempt to urge him. Only by the tense clinging of her arms about his +neck did he know that she was conscious. + +Again he heard that vague rustling which he had set down to a sudden +draught overhead. It seemed to come from all directions. + +"Ye gods!" he muttered softly to himself. And again, more softly, "Ye +gods!" + +To the woman in his arms he uttered no word whatever. He only pressed +the slender figure ever closer, while the blood surged and sang +tumultuously in his veins. Though he stood in the midst of mortal +danger, he was conscious of an exultation so mad as to be almost +delirious. She was his--his--his! + +Something stirred in the undergrowth close to him, and in a moment his +attention was diverted from the slow-moving monster ahead of him. He +became aware of a dark object, but vaguely discernible, that swayed to +and fro about three feet from the ground seeming to menace him. + +The moment he saw this thing, his brain flashed into sudden +illumination. The shrewdness of the hunted creature entered into him. +Without panic, he became most vividly, most intensely alive to the +ghastly danger that threatened him. He stopped to ascertain nothing +further. Swift as a lightning flash he acted--leapt backwards, leapt +sideways, landed upon something that squirmed and thrashed hideously, +nearly overthrowing him; and the next moment was breaking madly through +the undergrowth, regardless of direction, running blindly through the +jungle, fighting furiously every obstacle--forcing by sheer giant +strength a way for himself and for the woman he carried through the +opposing tangle of vegetation. + +Branches slapped him in the face as he went, clutched at him, tore him, +but could not stay his progress. Many times he stumbled, many times he +recovered himself, dashing wildly on and still on like a man possessed. +A marvellous strength was his. Titan-like, he accomplished that which to +any ordinary man would have been an utter impossibility. Save that he +was in perfect condition, even he must have failed. But that fact was +his salvation, that and the fierce passion that urged him, endowing him +with an endurance more than human. + +Headlong as was his flight, the working of his brain was even swifter, +and very soon, without slackening his speed, he was swerving round again +towards the open. He could see the moonlight gleaming through the trees, +and he made a dash for it, utterly reckless, since caution was of no +avail, but alert for every danger, cunning for every advantage, keen as +the born fighter for every chance that offered. + +And so at last, torn, bleeding, but undismayed, he struggled free from +the undergrowth, and sprang away from that place of horrors, staggering +slightly but running strongly still, till the dark line of jungle fell +away behind him and he reached the river bank once more. + +Here he stopped and loosened his grip upon the slight form he carried. +Her arms dropped from his neck. She had fainted. + +For a few seconds he stared down into her white face, seeing nothing +else, while the fiery heart of him leapt and quivered like a wild thing +in leash. Then, suddenly, from the water a voice hailed him, and he +looked up with a start. + +"Hullo, Pat! What on earth is the matter? You have landed the wrong side +of the stream. Is anything wrong?" + +It was Teddy Duncombe in a boat below him. He saw his face of concern in +the moonlight. + +He pulled himself together. + +"I was coming to warn you. This infernal jungle is full of snakes. We've +had to run for it, and leave the boat behind." + +"Great Scotland! And Mrs. Perceval?" + +Again Hone's eyes sought the white face on his arm. + +"No, she isn't hurt. It's just a faint. Pull up close, and I'll hand her +down to you!" + +Between them, they lowered her into the boat. Hone followed, and raised +her to lean against his knee. + +Duncombe began to row swiftly across the stream, with an uneasy eye upon +the two in the stern. + +"What in the world made you go wrong, I wonder?" he said. "No one ever +goes that side, not even the natives. They say it's haunted. We all +landed near the old bathing _ghat_." + +Hone was moistening Nina Perceval's face with his handkerchief. He made +no reply to Teddy's words. He was anxiously watching for some sign of +returning consciousness. + +It came very soon. The dark eyes opened and gazed up at him, at first +uncomprehendingly, then with a dawning wonder. + +"St. Patrick!" she whispered. + +"Princess!" he whispered back. + +With an effort she raised herself, leaning against him. + +"What happened? Were you hurt? Your face is all bleeding!" + +"It's nothing!" he said jerkily. "It's nothing!" + +She took his handkerchief in her trembling hand and wiped the blood +away. She said no more of any sort. Only when she gave it back to him +her eyes were full of tears. + +And Hone caught the little hand in passionate, dumb devotion, and +pressed it to his lips. + + +VII + +"I am so sorry, Major Hone, but she is seeing no one. I would ask you to +dine if it would be of any use. But you wouldn't see her if I did." + +So spoke the colonel's wife three days later in a sympathetic undertone; +while Hone paced beside her _rickshaw_ with a gloomy face. + +"She isn't ill?" he asked. "You are sure she isn't ill?" + +"No, not really ill. Her nerves are upset, of course. That was almost +inevitable. But she has determined to start for Bombay on Monday, and +nothing I can say will make her change her purpose." + +"But she can't mean to go without saying good-bye!" he protested. + +Mrs. Chester shook her head. + +"She says she doesn't like good-byes. I had the greatest difficulty in +persuading her to come here at all. I am afraid that is exactly what she +does mean to do." + +Hone stood still. His face was suddenly stubborn. + +"I must see her," he said, "with her consent or without it. Will you, of +your goodness, ask me to dine tonight? I will manage the rest for +myself." + +Mrs. Chester looked somewhat dubious. Long as she had known Hone, she +was not familiar with this mood. + +He saw her hesitation, and smiled upon her persuasively. + +"You are not going to refuse my petition? It isn't yourself that would +have the heart!" + +She laughed, in spite of herself. + +"Oh, go away, you wheedling Irishman! Yes, you may dine if you like. The +Gerrards are coming for bridge, and you'll be odd man out. There will be +no one to entertain you." + +"Sure, I can entertain myself," grinned Hone. "And it's truly grateful +that I am to your worshipful ladyship." + +He bowed, with his hand upon his heart, and, turning, went his way. + +Mrs. Chester went hers, still vaguely doubtful as to the wisdom of her +action. In common with the rest of mankind, she found Hone well-nigh +impossible to resist. + +When he made his appearance that evening, he presented an absolutely +serene aspect to the world at large. He was the gayest of the party, and +Mrs. Chester's uneasiness speedily evaporated. Nina Perceval was not +present, but this fact apparently did not depress him. He remained in +excellent spirits throughout dinner. + +When it was over, and the bridge players were established on the +veranda, he drifted off to the smoking-room in an aimless, inconsequent +fashion, and his hostess and accomplice saw him no more. + +She would have given a good deal to have witnessed his subsequent +movements, but she would have been considerably disappointed had she +done so, for Hone's methods were disconcertingly direct. All he did when +he found himself alone was to sit down and scribble a brief note. + +"I am waiting to see you" (so ran his message). "Will you come to me +now, or must I follow you to the world's end? One or the other it will +surely be.--Yours, PAT." + +This note he delivered to the _khitmutgar_, with orders to return to him +with a reply. Then, with a certain massive patience, he resumed his +cigar and settled himself to wait. + +The _khitmutgar_ did not return, but he showed no sign of exasperation. +His eyes stared gravely into space. There was not a shade of anxiety in +them. + +And it was thus that Nina Perceval found him when at last she came +lightly in from the veranda in answer to his message. She entered +without the smallest hesitation, but with that regal air of hers before +which men did involuntary homage. Her shadowy eyes met his without fear +or restraint of any sort, but they held no gladness either. Her +remoteness chilled him. + +"Why did you send me that extraordinary message?" she said. "Wasn't it a +little unnecessary?" + +He had risen to meet her. He paused to lay aside his cigar before he +answered, and in the pause that dogged expression that had surprised +Mrs. Chester descended like a mask and covered the first spontaneous +impulse to welcome her that had dominated him. + +"It was necessary that I should see you," he said. + +"I really don't know why," she returned. "I wrote a note to thank you +for the care you took of me the other night. That was days ago. I +suppose you received it?" + +"Yes, I received it," said Hone. "I have been trying, without success, +to see you ever since." + +She made a slight impatient movement. + +"I haven't seen any one. I was upset after that horrible adventure. I +shouldn't be seeing you now, only your ridiculous note made me wonder if +there was anything wrong. Is there?" + +She faced him with the direct inquiry. There was a faint frown between +her brows. Her delicate beauty possessed him like a charm. He felt his +blood begin to quicken, but he kept himself in check. + +"There is nothing wrong, Princess," he said steadily. "I am, as ever, +your humble servant, only I've got to come to the point with you before +you go. I've got to make the most of this shred of opportunity which you +have given me against your will. You are not disposed to be generous, I +see; but I appeal to your sense of justice. Is it fair play at all to +fling a man into gaol, and to refuse to let him plead on his own +behalf?" + +The annoyance passed like a shadow from her face. She began to smile. + +"What can you mean?" she said. "Is it a joke--a riddle? Am I supposed to +laugh?" + +"Heaven help me, no!" he said. "There is only one woman in the world +that I can't trifle with, and that's yourself." + +"Oh, but what an admission!" She laughed at him, softly mocking. "And +I'm so fond of trifling, too. Then what can you possibly want with me? I +suppose you have really called to say good-bye." + +"No," said Hone. He spoke quickly, and, as he spoke, he leaned towards +her. A deep glow had begun to smoulder in his eyes. "It's something else +that I've come to say--something quite different. I've come to tell you +that you are all the world to me, that I love you with all there is of +me, that I have always loved you. Yes, you'll laugh at me. You'll think +me mad. But if I don't take this chance of telling you, I'll never have +another. And even if it makes no difference at all to you, I'm bound to +let you know." + +He ceased. The fire that smouldered in his eyes had leaped to lurid +flame; but still he held himself in check, he subdued the racing madness +in his veins. He was, as ever, her humble servant. + +Perhaps she realized it, for she showed no sign of shrinking as she +stood before him. Her eyes grew a little wider and a little darker, that +was all. + +"I don't know what to say to you, Major Hone," she said, after a +moment. "I don't know even what you expect me to say, since you +expressly tell me that you are not trifling." + +"Faith!" he broke in impetuously. "And is it trifling I'd be with the +only woman I ever loved or ever wanted? I'm not asking you to flirt. I'm +asking a bigger thing of you than that. I'm asking you--Princess, I'm +asking you to stay--and be my wife." + +He drew nearer to her, but he made no attempt to touch her. Only the +flame of his passion seemed to reach her, to scorch her, for she made a +slight movement away from him. + +She looked at him doubtfully. "I still don't know what to say," she +said. + +His face altered. With a mighty effort he subdued the fiery impulse that +urged him to override her doubts and fears, to take and hold her in his +arms, to make her his with or without her will. + +He became in a trice the kindly, winning personality that all his world +knew and loved. "Sure then, you're not afraid of me?" he said, as though +he softly cajoled a child. "It wouldn't be yourself at all if you were, +you that could tread me underfoot like a centipede and not be a mite the +worse." + +She smiled a little, smiled and uttered a sudden quick sigh. "Don't you +think you are rather a fool, Pat?" she said. "I gave you credit for more +shrewdness. You certainly had more once." + +"What do you mean?" There was a sharp note of pain in Hone's voice. + +She moved restlessly across the room and paused with her back to him. +"None but a fool would conclude that because a woman is pretty she must +be good as well," she said, a tremor of bitterness in her voice. "Why do +you take it for granted in this headlong fashion that I am all that man +could desire?" + +"You are all that I want," he said. + +She shook her head. "The woman who lived inside me died long ago," she +said, "and a malicious spirit took her place." + +"None but yourself would ever dare to say that to me," said Hone. "And I +won't listen even to you. Princess--" + +"You are not to call me that!" She rounded upon him suddenly, a fierce +gleam in her eyes. "You must never--never--" + +She broke off. He was close to her, with that on his face that stilled +her protest. He gathered her to him with a tenderness that yet was +irresistible. + +"Sure, then," he whispered, with a whimsical humour that cloaked all +deeper feeling, "you shall be my queen instead, for by the saints I +swear that in some form or other I was created to be your slave." + +And though she averted her face and after a moment withdrew herself from +his arms, she raised no further protest. She suffered him to plant the +flag of his supremacy unhindered. + + +VIII + +Certainly the colonel's wife was in her element. A wedding in the +regiment, and that the wedding of its idolized hero, was to her an +affair of almost more importance than anything that had happened since +her own. The church had been fully decorated under her directions, and +she had turned it into as elegant a reception room as circumstances +permitted. White favours had been distributed to the dusky warriors +under Hone's command who lined the aisle. All was in readiness, from the +bridegroom, resplendent in scarlet and gold, waiting in the chancel with +Teddy Duncombe, the best man, to the buzzing guests who swarmed in at +the west door to be received by the colonel's wife, who in her capacity +of hostess seemed to be everywhere at once. + +"She was quite ready when I left, and looking sweet," so ran the story +to one after another. "Oh, yes, in her travelling dress, of course. That +had to be. But quite bridal--the palest silver grey. She looks quite +charming, and such a girl. No one would ever think--" and so on, to +innumerable acquaintances, ending where she had begun--"yes, she was +quite ready when I left, and looking sweet!" + +Ready or not, she was undoubtedly late, as is the recognised custom of +brides all the world over. The organist, who had been playing an +impressive selection, was drawing to the end of his resources and +beginning to improvise somewhat spasmodically. The bridegroom betrayed +no impatience, but there was undeniable strain in his attitude. He stood +stiff and motionless as a soldier on parade. The guests were commencing +to peer and wonder. Mrs. Chester made her tenth pilgrimage to the door. + +Ah! The carriage at last! She turned back with a beaming face, and +rustled up the aisle as though she were the heroine of the occasion. A +flutter of expectation went through the church. The organist plunged +abruptly into "The Voice that Breathed o'er Eden." + +Everyone rose. Everyone craned towards the door. The carriage, with its +flying favours, was stopping, had stopped. The colonel was seen +descending. + +He was looking very pale, whispered someone. Could anything be wrong? He +was not wont to suffer from nervousness. + +He did not turn to assist the bride. Surely that was strange! Nor did +she follow him. Surely--surely the carriage behind him was empty! + +Something indeed had happened. She must be ill! A great tremor went +through the waiting crowd. No one was singing, but the music pealed on +and on till some wild rumour of disaster reached the waiting chaplain, +and he stepped across the chancel and touched the organist's shoulder. + +Instantly silence fell--a terrible, nerve-racking silence. Colonel +Chester had entered. He stood just within the door, pale and stern, +whispering to the officer in charge of the men. People stared at him, at +each other, at the bridegroom still standing motionless by the chancel +steps. And then at last the silence broke into a murmur that spread and +spread. Something had happened! Something was wrong! No, the bride was +not ill. But there would be no wedding that day. + +Someone came hurriedly and spoke to Teddy Duncombe, who turned first +crimson, then very white, and finally pulled himself together with a +jerk and went to Hone. Everyone craned to see what would happen--how the +news would affect him, whether he would be deeply shocked, or +whether--whether--ah! A great sigh went through the church. He did not +seem startled or even greatly dismayed. He listened to Duncombe gravely, +but without any visible discomfiture. There could not be anything very +serious the matter, then. A note was put into his hand, which he read +with absolute calmness under the eyes of the multitude. + +When he looked up from it, the colonel had reached his side. They +exchanged a few words, and then Hone, smiling faintly, beckoned to the +chaplain. He rested a hand on his shoulder in his careless, friendly +way, and spoke into his ear. + +The chaplain looked deeply concerned, nodded once or twice, and, +straightening himself, faced the crowd of guests. + +"I am requested to state," he announced in the midst of dead silence, +"that, owing to a most regrettable and unforeseen mischance, the happy +event which we are gathered here to celebrate must be unavoidably +postponed. The bride has just received an urgent summons to England on a +matter of the first importance, which she feels compelled to obey, and +she is already on her way to Bombay in the hope of catching the steamer +which will sail to-morrow. It only remains for me to express deep +sympathy, in which I am sure all present join me, with our friend Major +Hone and his bride-elect on their disappointment, and the sincere hope +that their happy union may not long be deferred." + +He ended with a doubtful glance at Hone, who, standing on the chancel +steps, bowed briefly, and, taking Duncombe by the shoulder, marched with +him into the vestry. He certainly did not look in the least disconcerted +or anxious. It could not be anything really serious. A feeling of relief +lightened the atmosphere. People began to talk, to speculate, even to +enjoy the sensation. Poor Hone! He was not often unlucky. But, of +course, it would be all right. He would probably follow his bride to +England, and they would be married there. Doubtless that was his +intention, or he could not have looked so undismayed. + +So ran the tide of gossip and surmise. And in Hone's pocket lay the +twisted note which the woman he loved had left behind--the note which he +had read with an unmoved countenance under a host of watching eyes. + +"Good-bye, St. Patrick! It has been an amusing game, has it not? Do you +remember how you beat me once long ago? I was but a child in those days. +I did not know the rules of the game, and so you had the advantage. But +you could not hope to have it always. It is my turn now, and I think I +may claim the return match for my own. So good-bye, Achilles! Perhaps +the gods will send you better luck next time. Who knows?" + +No eye but Hone's ever read that heartless note, and his but once. Half +an hour after he had received it, it lay in ashes, but every word of it +was graven deep upon his brain. + + +IX + +It was in the early hours of the morning that Nina Perceval reached +Bombay. + +She had sat wide-eyed and motionless all through the night. She had felt +no desire to sleep. An intense horror of her surroundings seemed to +possess her. She was like a hunted creature seeking to escape from a +world of horrors. She would know no rest till she reached the sea, till +she was speeding away over the glittering water, and the land--that land +which had become more hateful to her than any prison--was left far +behind. + +She had played her game, she had sped her shaft, and now panic--sheer, +unreasoning panic--filled her. She was terrified at what she had done, +too terrified yet for coherent thought. She had taken her revenge at +last. She had pierced her conqueror to the heart. As he had once laughed +at her, as he had once, with a smile and a jest, broken and tossed her +aside--so she had done to him. She had gathered up her wounded pride, +and she had smitten him therewith. She was convinced that he would never +laugh at her again. + +He would get over it, of course; men always did. She had known men by +the score who played the same merry game, men who broke hearts for +sport and went their careless ways, unheeding, uncomprehending. It was +the way of the world, this world of countless tragedies. She had +learned, in her piteous cynicism, to look for nothing else. Faithfulness +had become to her a myth. Surely all men loved--they called it love--and +rode away. + +No, she did not flatter herself that she had hurt him very seriously. +She had dealt his pride a blow, that was all. + +She reached Bombay, and secured her berth. The steamer was to sail at +noon. There were not a great many passengers, and she managed to engage +a cabin to herself. But she could not even attempt to rest in that +turmoil of noise and excitement. She went ashore again, and repaired to +a hotel for a meal. She took a private room, and lay down; but sleep +would not come to her, and presently, urged by that gnawing +restlessness, she was pacing up and down, up and down, like a wild +creature newly caged. + +Sometimes she paused at the window to stare down into the busy +thoroughfare below, but she never paused for long. The fever that +consumed her gave her no rest, and again she was pacing to and fro, to +and fro, eternally, counting the leaden minutes that crept by so slowly. + +At last, when flesh and blood could endure no longer, she snatched up +her hat and veil, and prepared to go on board. Standing before a mirror, +she began to adjust these with trembling fingers, but suddenly stopped +dead, gazing speechlessly before her. For her own eyes had inadvertently +met the eyes of the haggard woman in the glass, and dumbly, with a new +horror clutching at her heart, she stared into their wild depths and +read as in a book the tale of torture that they held. + +When she turned away at length, she was shivering from head to foot as +though she had seen a spectre; and so in truth she had. For those eyes +had told her what she had not otherwise begun to realise. + +That which she had believed dead for so long had been, only dormant, and +had sprung to sudden, burning life. The weapon with which she had +thought to pierce her enemy had turned in her grasp and pierced her +also, pierced her with an agony unspeakable--ay, pierced her to the +heart. + + +X + +As one in a dream she stood on deck and watched India slipping below the +horizon. Her restlessness was subsiding at last. She was conscious of an +intense weariness, greater than any she had ever known. As soon as that +distant line of land had disappeared she told herself that she would go +and rest. Her fellow passengers had for the most part settled down. They +sat about in groups under the awning. A few, like herself, stood at the +rail and gazed astern, but there was no one very near her. She felt as +if she stood utterly alone in all the world. + +Slowly at last she turned away. Slowly she crossed the deck and began to +descend the companion. A knot of people stood talking at the foot. They +made way for her to pass. She went through them without a glance. She +scarcely even saw them. + +She went to her cabin and lay down, but she knew at once that sleep +would not come to her. Her eyes burned as though weighted with many +scalding tears, but she could not weep. She could only lie staring +vaguely before her, and dumbly endure that suffering which she had +vainly fancied could never again be her portion. She could only +strive--and strive in vain--to shut out the vision of the man she loved +standing alone at the altar waiting for the woman who had played him +false. + +The dinner hour approached. Mechanically she rose and dressed. She did +not shrink from meeting the eyes of strangers. They simply did not exist +for her. She took her place in the great dining saloon, looking neither +to right nor left. The buzz of conversation all around her passed her +by. She might have been sitting in utter solitude. And all the while the +misery gnawed ever deeper into her heart. + +She rose at last, before the meal was ended, and went up to the great +empty deck. She felt as if she would stifle below. But, up above, the +wash of the sea and the immensity of the night soothed her somewhat. She +found a secluded corner, and leaned upon the rail, gazing out over the +black waste of water. + +What was he doing, she wondered. How was he spending this second night +of misery? Had he begun to console himself already? She tried to think +so, but failed--failed utterly. + +Irresistibly the memory of the man swept over her, his gentleness, his +chivalry, his unfailing kindness. She was beginning to see the whole +bitter tragedy by the light of her repentance. He had loved her, surely +he had loved her in those old days when she had tricked him in sheer, +childish gaiety of soul. And, for her sake, that her suffering might be +the briefer, he had masked his love. She had never thought so before, +but she saw it clearly now. + +It had all been a miserable misunderstanding from beginning to end, but +she was sure, now, that he had loved her faithfully for all those years. +And if it were against all reason to think so, if all her experience +told her that men were not moulded thus, had not his chosen friend +declared him to be one in ten thousand, and did not her quivering +woman's heart know him to be such? Ah, what had she done? What had she +done? + +"Oh, Pat!" she sobbed. "Pat! Pat! Pat!" + +The great idol of her pride had fallen at last, and she wept her heart +out up there in the darkness, till physical exhaustion finally overcame +her, and she could weep no more. + + +XI + +"Won't you sit down?" a quiet voice said. + +She started out of what was almost a stupor of grief, to find a man's +figure standing close to her. Her eyes were all blinded by weeping, and +she could see him but vaguely in the dimness. She had not heard him +approach. He seemed to appear from nowhere. Or had he, perchance, been +near her all the time? + +Instinctively she drew a little away from him, though in that moment of +utter desolation even the sympathy of a stranger sent a faint warmth of +comfort to her heart. + +"There is a chair here," the quiet voice went on, and as she turned +vaguely, almost as though feeling her way, a steady hand closed upon her +elbow and guided her. + +Perhaps it was the touch that, like the shock of an electric current, +sent the blood suddenly tingling through her veins, or it may have been +some influence more subtle. She was yielding half-mechanically when +suddenly, piercing her through and through, there came to her such a +flash of revelation as almost deprived her for the moment of her +senses. + +She stood stock still and faced him. + +"Oh, who is it?" she cried piteously. "Who is it?" + +The hand that held her tightened ever so slightly. He did not instantly +reply, but when he did, it was on a note of grimness that she had never +heard from him before. + +"It is I--Pat," he told her. "Have you any objection?" + +She gazed at him speechlessly as one in a dream. He had followed her, +then; he had followed her! But wherefore? + +She began to tremble in the grip of sudden, overmastering fear. This was +the last thing she had anticipated. What could it mean? Had she driven +him demented? Had he pursued her to wreak his vengeance upon her, +perhaps to kill her? + +Compelled by the pressure of his hand, she moved to the dark seat he had +indicated, and sank down. + +He stood beside her, looming large in the gloom. A terrible silence fell +between them. Worn out by sleeplessness and bitter weeping, she cowered +before him dumbly. She had no pride left, no weapon of any sort +wherewith to resist him. She longed, yet dreaded unspeakably, to hear +his voice. He was watching her, she knew, though she did not dare to +raise her head. + +He spoke at last, quietly, without emotion, yet with that in his +deliberate utterance that made her shrink and quiver in every nerve. + +"Faith," he said, "it's been an amusing game entirely, but you haven't +beaten me yet. I must trouble you to take up your cards again and play +to a finish before we decide who scoops the pool." + +"What do you mean?" she whispered. + +He did not answer her, and she thought there was something contemptuous +in his silence. + +She waited a little, summoning her strength, then, rising, with a +desperate courage she faced him. + +"I don't understand you. Tell me what you mean!" + +He made a curious gesture as if he would push her from him. + +"I am not good at explaining myself," he said. "But you will understand +me better presently." + +And again inexplicably she shrank. There was that about him which +terrified her more than any uttered menace. + +"What are you going to do?" she said nervously. "Why--why have you +followed me?" + +He answered her in a tone which she deemed scoffing. It was too dark for +her to see his face. + +"You can hardly expect me to show my hand at this stage," he said. "You +never showed me yours." + +It was true, and she found no word to say against it. But none the less, +she was horribly afraid. She felt herself to be utterly at his mercy, +and was instinctively aware that he was in no mood to spare her. + +"I can't go on playing, Pat," she said, after a moment, her voice very +low. "I have no cards left to play." + +"In that case you are beaten," he said, with that doggedness which she +was beginning to know as a part of his fighting equipment. "Do you own +it?" + +She hesitated. + +"Do you own it?" he insisted sternly. + +And, yielding to a sudden impulse that overwhelmed all reason, she threw +herself unreservedly upon his mercy. + +"Yes, I own it." + +He stood silent for several seconds after the admission, while she +waited with a thumping heart. At last, half-grudgingly it seemed to her, +he spoke. + +"You are a wise woman," he said, "even wiser than I took you for, which +is saying much. The game is ended, then. But you will pardon me if I +refuse to surrender my winnings. Such as they are, I value them." + +She bent her head. Her subjection was complete. She was too exhausted, +physically and mentally, to attempt to withstand him, and undoubtedly +the ultimate victory was his. Had he not witnessed those agonizing +tears? + +"You are welcome to anything you can find," she said, smiling wanly. "I +suppose all experience is of value. At least, I used to think so." + +Again for a moment he was silent. Then: "It is the most valuable thing +in the world," he said, "if you know how to turn it to account. But, +sure, that is a lesson that some of us are slow to learn." + +He paused; then, as she remained silent, "You are going below to rest?" +he said. "Don't let me keep you! You have travelled hard, and need it." + +There was a hint of the old kindliness in his tone. She stood listening +to it, longing, yet not daring to avail herself of it and make her peace +with him. + +But, whatever his intentions, it was apparently no part of Hone's plan +to allow himself to be conciliated at that stage, for, after the +briefest pause, he bowed abruptly and stepped aside. + +And Nina Perceval went humbly away, as befitted one who had played a +desperate game, and had been outwitted by the adversary she had dared to +despise. + + +XII + +During the whole three weeks of the voyage Hone took no further action. + +Nina saw him every day of those interminable weeks, but he made no sign. +He did not seek her out, neither did he avoid her, but continually he +mystified her by the cheery indifference of his bearing. + +He became--as was almost inevitable--an immense favourite on board. He +was in the thick of every amusement, and no entertainment was complete +without him. No rumour of the extraordinary circumstances that had led +to his undertaking the voyage had reached their fellow passengers. No +one suspected that anything unusual existed between the winning, +frank-faced Irishman and the silent young widow who so seldom looked his +way. No one had heard of the wedding party that had lacked a bride. + +But everyone welcomed Hone, V.C., as a tremendous acquisition, and Hone, +V.C., laughed his humorous, good-tempered laugh, and placed himself +unreservedly and impartially at everyone's disposal. + +Nina never saw him in private. In public he treated her with the kindly +courtesy he extended to every woman on board. There was not in his +manner the faintest hint of anything deeper. He would laugh into her +eyes with absolute friendliness. And yet from the depths of her soul she +feared him. She knew that he was continuing the game that she had +wantonly begun. She knew that there was more to come, that he had not +done with her, that he was merely waiting, as an experienced player +knows how to wait, till the time arrived to play his final card. + +What that final card could be she had not the remotest idea, but she +awaited it with an almost morbid sense of dread. His very forbearance +seemed ominous. + +On the night before their arrival there was a dance on board. Nina, who +had not joined in any of these gaieties for the simple reason that she +had no heart for them, rose from dinner with the intention of going to +her cabin. But as she passed out of the saloon, Hone stepped forward and +intercepted her. + +"Will you give me a dance, Mrs. Perceval?" + +She looked up at him, meeting his eyes with an effort. + +"I am not dancing," she said. + +"Just one," he pleaded, with that air of gallantry that cloaked she knew +not what. + +She hesitated, and then, almost in spite of herself, with something of +the old regal graciousness, she yielded. + +"Just one, then, Major Hone, since to-morrow it will be good-bye." + +He thanked her with a deep bow, and promptly led her away. + +They danced the first waltz together in unbroken silence. Nina kept her +face studiously turned over her shoulder. Not once did she glance at her +partner, whose quiet dancing and steady arm told her nothing. + +When it was over, he led her to a seat in full view of the other +dancers, and sat down beside her. For a few seconds he maintained his +silence, then quietly he turned and spoke. + +"Are you going to stay in London?" + +The direct question surprised her. Somehow, though he had given her +small reason to do so, she had come to expect naught but subtle strategy +from him. + +"I shall spend one night there," she said, after a moment's thought. + +"No longer?" + +She faced him calmly, though her heart had begun to leap and race within +her. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Why don't you answer?" said Hone. + +He was smiling faintly, but there was determination in the set of his +jaw. + +"Because," she said slowly, "I am not sure that I want you to know." + +"Why not?" said Hone. She shook her head in silence. "It's sorry I am to +hear it," he said, after a brief pause. "For if it's to be a game of +hide-and-seek I shall soon run you to earth." + +She raised her eyebrows. Had they been alone together she knew that she +could not have disguised her fear. It had grown upon her marvellously of +late. But the publicity of their intercourse endued her with a certain +courage. + +"What is it that you want of me?" she said. + +He met her eyes with absolute steadiness. + +"I will tell you," he said, "the next time we meet." + +She tried to laugh to hide the wild tumult his words stirred up. + +"Is that a promise?" + +"My solemn bond," said Hone. + +She rose. + +"I shall stay at the Seton Ward Hotel for a week," she said. +"Good-night!" + +He rose also; they stood for a moment face to face. + +"Alone?" he asked. + +And again, with a reckless sense of throwing herself upon his mercy, she +made brief reply. + +"I haven't a friend in the world." + +He gave her his arm. + +"Any enemies?" he asked. + +They were at the door before she answered. + +"Yes--one." + +For an instant his arm grew tense, detaining her. + +"And that?" he questioned. + +She withdrew her hand sharply. + +"Myself," she said, and swiftly, without another glance, she left him. + + +XIII + +The roar of the London traffic rose muffled through the London fog. It +was a winter afternoon of great murkiness. + +In the private sitting-room of a private hotel Nina Perceval sat alone, +as she had sat for two dragging, intolerable days, and waited. She had +begun to ask herself--she had asked herself many times that day--if she +waited in vain. She would remain for the week, whatever happened, but +the torture of suspense had become such as she scarcely knew how to +endure. Something of the fever of restlessness that had tormented her at +Bombay was upon her now, but with it, subtly mingled, was a misery of +uncertainty that had not gripped her then. She was unspeakably lonely, +and at certain panic-stricken times unspeakably afraid; but whether it +was the possibility of his presence or the certainty of his continued +absence that appalled her, she could not have said. + +A fire burned with a cheery crackling in the room, throwing weird +shadows through the dimness. Yet she shivered from time to time as +though the chill of the London fog penetrated to her bones. Ah! what was +that? She startled violently at the sound of a low knock at the door, +then hastily commanded herself. It was only a waiter with the tea she +had ordered, of course. With her back to the door she bade him enter. + +But, though the door opened and someone entered, there came no jingle of +tea things. She did not turn her head. It was as though she could not. +She was as one turned to stone. She thought that the wild throbbing of +her heart would choke her. + +He came straight to her and stood beside her, not offering to touch so +much as her hand. The red firelight beat upwards on his face. She +ventured a single glance at him, and was oddly shocked by the look he +wore. Something of the red glow on the hearth shone back at her from his +eyes. She did not dare to look again. Yet when he spoke, though he +uttered no greeting, his voice was quite normal, wholly free from +agitation. + +"I should have been here sooner, but I was scouring London for an old +friend. I have found him at last, but, faith, I've had a chase. Do you +remember Jasper Caldicott, the parson who went out with us on the +_Scindia_ eight years ago?" + +"Yes, I remember him." She spoke with a strong effort. Her lips felt +stiff and cold. + +"He has a parish Whitechapel way," said Hone. "I only found him out this +morning. I wanted to bring him to see you." + +"Yes?" At his abrupt pause she moved slightly. "But he wouldn't come?" + +"He will come some day," said Hone. "But he had some scruple about +accompanying me there and then, as I wished. In fact, he wants you to +visit him instead." + +"Yes?" She almost whispered the word. She was holding the mantelpiece +with both hands to steady her trembling limbs. + +"Sure, there's nothing to alarm you at all," Hone said. "It'll soon be +over. He wants you to do him the honour of being married in his church +and there's a taxi below waiting to take you." + +"Now?" She turned and faced him, white to the lips. + +"Yes, now! By special licence." Sternly he made reply, and again she +felt as though the fire in his eyes scorched her. + +"And if I--refuse?" She stood up to her full height, flinging her fear +from her with a royal gesture that was almost a challenge. + +But Hone was ready for her. Hone, the gentle, the kind, the chivalrous, +stepped suddenly forth from his garden of virtues with level lance to +meet her. + +"By the powers," he said, and the words came from between his teeth, "I +wonder you dare to ask me that!" + +She laughed, but her laughter was slightly hysterical, and in an instant +he seized and pressed his advantage. + +"It is the end of the game," he grimly told her. "And you are beaten. +You told me once that you didn't always pay your debts. But, by Heaven, +you shall pay this one!" + +By sheer weight he beat down her resistance. Against her will, in spite +of her utmost effort, she gave way before him. + +A moment she stood in silence. Then, "So be it!" she said, and, turning, +left him. + +When she joined him again she was so thickly veiled that he could not +see her face. She preceded him without a word into the lift, and they +went down in utter silence to the waiting taxi. Then side by side +through the gloom as though they travelled through space, a myriad +lights twinkling all about them, the rush and roar of a universe in +their ears, but they two alone in an atmosphere that none other +breathed. + +It was a journey that neither ever afterwards calculated by time. It was +incalculable as the flight of a meteor. And when at last it came to an +end, for an instant neither moved. + +Then, as though emerging from a dream, Hone rose and alighted, and +turned to give his hand to his companion. A little group of ragged +urchins stood to view upon the muddy pavement. There was no other pomp +to attend the coming of a bride. + +Silently they entered a church that was lighted from end to end for +evening service. They passed up the aisle through a haze of fog. They +halted at the chancel steps.... + +The knot of urchins had grown to a considerable crowd when they emerged. +Women and half-grown girls jostled each other for a glimpse of the +bride. But the utmost that any saw was a slender figure wearing a thick +veil that walked a little apart from the bridegroom, and entered the +waiting motor unassisted. + + +XIV + +Back once more in the room where the fire crackled, newly replenished, +and electric light revealed a shining tea-table, Hone turned to the +silent woman beside him. + +"Can I write a message? I promised to send one to Teddy as soon as we +were married." + +She pointed to the writing-table; and moved herself to the fire. There +she stood for a few seconds quite motionless, seeming to listen to the +scratching of his pen. + +He ceased to write, and turned in his chair. For a moment his eyes +rested upon her. + +"Take off your hat!" he said. + +She obeyed him in utter silence. Her hands were stiff and numb with +cold. She stooped, the firelight shining on her hair, and held them to +the blaze. + +Hone rose quietly, and came to her side. He held his message for her to +read, and she did so silently. + +"Just married. All well. Love.--PAT." + +"Will it do?" he said. + +She glanced up at him and shivered. + +"Is all well?" she asked, in a tone that demanded no answer. + +He made none, merely rang the bell and gave orders for the despatch of +the message. + +Then he came quietly back to her. They stood face to face. She was quite +erect, but pale to the lips. She stood before him as a prisoner awaiting +sentence, too proud to ask for mercy. + +Hone paused a few moments, as if to give her time to speak, to challenge +him, to make her defence, or to plead her weakness. Then, as she did +none of these things, he suddenly laid steady hands upon her, drew her +to him, and, bending, looked closely into her eyes. + +"And is there any reason at all why I should not take what is my own?" +he said. + +She did not resist him, but a long shiver went through her. + +"Are you sure it is worth the taking?" she said. + +"Quite sure," he answered quietly. "Shall I tell you how I know?" + +Her eyes sank before his. + +"You will do exactly as you choose." + +He was silent for an instant, still intently searching her white face. +Then: + +"Do you remember that night that you fainted in my arms?" he said. "Do +you remember opening your eyes in the boat? Do you know--can you +guess--what your eyes told me?" + +She was silent; only again from head to foot she shivered. + +He went on very quietly, as one absolutely sure of himself: + +"I looked into your soul that night, and I saw your secret hidden away +in its darkest corner. And I knew it had been there for a long, long +time. I knew from that moment that, hate me as you might, you were mine, +as I have been yours for so long as I have known you." + +She raised her eyes suddenly, stiffening in his grasp. + +"And you expect me to believe that of you?" she said, a tremor that was +not of fear, in her voice. + +"You do believe it," he answered with conviction. + +She raised her hands with something of her old imperious grace, and laid +them on his arms, freeing herself with a single gesture. + +"And all those years ago," she said, "when you made me believe you had +been trifling with me--" + +"I lied!" said Hone. "It was the hardest thing I ever did. But something +had to be done. I did it to save you suffering." + +She turned abruptly from him, moving blindly, till groping, she found +the mantelpiece, and leaned upon it. Then, her back to him, she spoke: + +"And you succeeded in breaking my heart." + +A sudden silence fell. Hone stood motionless, his hands fallen to his +sides. The dull roar of the streets beat up through the stillness like +the roar of a distant sea, bringing to mind a night long, long ago when +first he had met his little princess, when first the gay charm of her +personality had been cast upon him. + +With a resolute effort he spoke. + +"But you were scarcely more than a child," he said. "It--sure, it +couldn't have been as bad as that?" + +At the sound of the pain in his voice she slowly turned. + +"It was much worse than that," she said. "While it lasted, it was +intolerable. There were times when I thought it would drive me crazy. +But you--you were always there, and I think the sight of you kept me +sane. I hated you so. I had to show you that I didn't care." + +Again he heard in her voice that tremor that was not of fear. + +"As long as my husband lived," she went on, "I kept up the miserable +farce. As you know, we never loved each other. Then he died, and I found +I couldn't bear it any longer. There was no reason why I should. I went +away. I should never have seen you again, only Mrs. Chester would take +no refusal. And I had put it all away from me by that time. I felt it +did not greatly matter if we did meet. Nothing seemed of much importance +till that day I saw you on the polo ground, carrying all before +you--Achilles triumphant! That day I began to hate you again." A faint +smile drew the corners of her mouth. "I think you suspected it," she +said, "but your suspicions were soon lulled to rest. Did it never cross +your mind to wonder how we came to pair on that night of the river +picnic? I accused you of cheating, do you remember? And you were quite +indignant." A glimmer of the old gay mischief shone for a fleeting +second through her tragedy. "That was the first move in the game," she +said. "At least you never suspected me of that." + +"No; you had me there." There was a ring of sternness in Hone's voice. +"So that was the beginning?" he said. + +She nodded. + +"And it would have been the end also, if you would have suffered it. For +that very night I ceased to hate you." A faint flush tinged her pale +face. "I would have let you off," she said. "I didn't want to go on. But +you would not have it so. You came after me. You wouldn't leave me +alone, even though I warned you--I warned you that I wasn't worth your +devotion. And so"--again her voice trembled--"you had to have your +lesson after all." + +"And do you know what it has taught me?" + +Again there sounded in his voice that new mastery that had so strangely +overwhelmed her. + +She shrank a little as it reached her, and turned her face aside. "I can +guess," she said. + +"And is it good at guessing that you are?" + +He drew nearer to her with the words, but he did not offer to touch her. + +She stood motionless, her head bent lest he should see, and understand, +the piteous quivering of her lips. With immense effort she made reply: + +"It has taught you to hate and despise me, as--as I deserve." + +"Faith!" he said. "You think that--honestly now?" + +The mastery had all gone out of his voice. It was soft with that +caressing quality she knew of old--that tenderness, half-humorous, +half-persuasive, that had won her heart so long, so long ago. She did +not answer him--for she could not. + +He waited for the space of a score of seconds, standing close to her, +yet still not touching her, looking down in silence at the proud dark +head abased before him. + +At last: "It's myself that'll have to tell you, after all," he said +gently, "for sure it's the only way to make you understand. It's taught +me that we can both be winners, dear, if we play the game squarely, just +as we have both been losers all these weary years. But we will have to +be partners from this day forward. So just put your little hand in mine, +and it'll be all right, mavourneen! Pat'll understand!" + +She moved at that--moved sharply, convulsively, passionately. For a +moment her eyes met his; for a moment she seemed on the verge of amazed +questioning, even of vehement protest. + +But--perhaps the grey eyes that looked straight and steadfast into her +own made speech seem unnecessary--for she only whispered, "St. +Patrick!" in a voice that trembled and broke. + +And "Princess! My Princess!" was all he answered as he took her into his +arms. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TIDAL WAVE AND OTHER STORIES*** + + +******* This file should be named 13553.txt or 13553.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/5/5/13553 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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